Drawing mannequin (his name is Fred, pleased to meet you) posing with a color block push tube of “Artist” by Le Soft Perfume.

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.


UmabelA 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.

Macadam Paz

macadam paz
Light blue cardboard push-up stick printed with Albrecht Dürer’s 15th century woodcut drawing of a rhinoceros.

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–

Eu Vent de Vous

eu vent de vousStarts 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.


Zazou(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!”