Sad rose yogurt.
The citrus opens too tart–soured by the sandalwood, maybe–but then berries and a bit of spice get stirred in, sweetened with floral syrup.
The moody violet/cassis finish on the skin is nice, after the first disappointing hour–the start seems like something you’d taste in the dairy aisle at the happy-hippy food co-op, rather than a fragrance.
*
The most melancholy song ever–
Soft solid that goes on with sugared grapefruit and sinks into the skin with lovely green forest woods. The cedar pushes it to the masculine end of unisex, but the musk at the end is sweet.
Lasts a good three hours an inch off the hands.
Comforting and friendly. A great one to give as a gift.
*
My favorite art inspired song.
A gorgeous balm scent that feels so lovely–I put it on my elbows, my knees, the back of my hands–anywhere the skin is rough in the winter.
The stick goes on like velvet, warming up peachy sweet with a hint of citrus, and stays a few inches above the skin for several hours. Finally soaks in with sugared iris and some rosy sandalwood.
Would make a nice first perfume for a kidling.
This piece is comforting and sweet, too.
Vanilla musk on the skin that turns into really enjoyable leather and peaches, hot nutmeg and herbal incense–
This Le Soft is perfectly soft butch–sweet and rough, spice and smoke–held close.
I like her quiet confidence.
Pair with a watch or wallet chain and other marvelous cliches.
Here’s my other favorite gender-bendy-Frenchie at the moment–
Starts harsh but finishes mellow.
Cardamom bombs the opening, the same throat closing assault when entering any truck stop store outside Paris, Appalachia–menthol cigarette ash and candy bars–but then it slowly melts into the skin with tobacco and vanilla a la Tom Ford.
Not many people realize Tom Waits actually wrote this one–also harsh and mellow.
(I’m falling in love with these solid perfumes. Airplane friendly and moisturizing!)
Zazou–surprisingly, given the twee packaging–is a sophisticated little neroli limeade spiked with aqvavit.
It opens fresh, a zing of citrus as it warms up on the skin, then relaxes and turns floral with an herbal undercurrent.
Sits just above the skin for hours until sinking under into warm green woods.
The Zazou subculture in France most likely took their name from Cab Calloway’s scat riff “Zaz, zuh, zah!”
Sweet, slightly peachy, and gone in seconds.
Edit – 10/4/21
This one was disappointing–the performance is just so bad–and the canister has sat on a shelf for three years. I don’t know anyone in the 5-8 year old range (old enough not to lick it, but young enough to pretend it has any scent) who might enjoy playing dress-up.
This evening I scooped out the solid with a butter-knife (it has the consistency of ChapStick) and smushed it all into a tealight.
After 90 minutes of burning, my hallway lav smells nicely of sweet, slightly scorched peaches.
I’ve paid more for lesser candles, so no complaints.
*
Another angel, with better projection.
kira a. gold 