The adorable bottle opens with that ambrosia fruit salad made with orange jello and canned peaches and marshmallows that your gran always made for parties, then turns into handfuls of powdery Smarties for a few hours.
Lasts longer on clothes than skin, a deeper dry down of vanilla sweet resin, infused with peach cordial.
Weird and flirty and so fun.
I love it.
This was a big hit in 1994, when Deci Dela came out. Also sweet and funky and fun.
Wild flowers and rose, in a gorgeous high fashion editorial.
Sweet powdery mimosa at the opening, roses from top to bottom, and ending with a breath of organic green musk.
Lasts minutes on skin and hours on clothes. I really like it, but it might be too posh for me.
Azzaro Couture was first released in 1974, then re-launched in 2008 for a boutique show.
Here’s another sweet-and-lovely claimed by the next generation.
Have you ever opened a box of old vintage sewing patterns at a rummage sale, and gotten transported back in time–before you were born, even–just from the smell?
Sortilège whispers vintage lily-of-the-valley out of the bottle, then powdery peachy aldehydes a la Chanel No. 5 trample the flowers to dust. More try to bloom, some feeble jasmine, whimpering mimosa–the rose survives, bolstered by iris, but then they are bowled over by great gobs of amber with vetiver musk in the wake.
This makes me want a wasp-waisted dress with piping and a built-in crinoline, and wrist gloves with matching bows.
Le Galion released Sortilège in 1937, when Fred Astaire was hanging out at The Stork Club, famous for singing Gershwin. I prefer Lady Day’s cover.
Violet, vanilla and sandalwood in equal doses.
It’s quite nice–I’m impressed with this whole line–powdery soft and sweet, but with a little bite.
I do miss the ivy and licorice notes that add the depth to Lolita Lempicka’s Au Masculin–this is like the drier, autumn version.
Lasts a few hours close to the skin–a good one for dancing on Halloween.
Here’s a disturbingly happy cover of Nirvana’s Lithium.
(Paillettes are spangles, the dangling sequins on shimmering gowns.)
Fairy dust potion. Seriously, this is what Tinkerbell sprays all over folks so they can fly.
My favorite L.L. bottle ever, filled with the most magical, silky, pink frosted liquid, scented with a light powdery version of the original.
This came out in 2001, but it’s worth nabbing second hand. The scent is lovely, of course–violets and aniseed and sheer musk–but the body shimmer feels and looks so amazing on the skin. (Especially dark skin! The only time I ever broke my no-perfume-in-costume rule was for the actress who introduced me to this beauty. She looked incredible under the stage-lights.)
I was the only kid who loved getting Good & Plenty licorice candy while trick-or-treating. Lolita Lempicka smells like they taste, so maybe that why I enjoy it so much.