In the summer it’s eye-watering: all the hot sauces at the taqueria–tabasco, nopales salsa verde, pico jalapeño–uncorked and spilled over the table.
In the winter it cools down, becomes herbal, sweet bell peppers with a touch of rose on a base of cedar and metallic musk, but it’s no less potent.
Xeryus Rouge came out in in the mid nineties, along with this sweet spicy tune from Cuba.
A big mouthful of Buttered Popcorn flavored Jellybelly beans, sticky sweet and stuck in the teeth for hours.
Later, powdered sugar and clove dusted gingerbread crumbs cling to shirt cuffs.
Fun, like that holiday party at the boss’s house that you weren’t expecting to enjoy–but I’d do better with it as a candle. It’s too sweet for me to wear on my skin.
By the Weather Girls, who brought you It’s Raining Men:
Sophisticated and warm–leans to the yang rather than the yin–it’s got outward force, this stuff.
Sweet spice at the opening, with a hint of rose, that settles into resinous green incense, heavy on the vetiver. Soft patchouli projection for half the day, with honey cardamom on the skin.
Has really nice organic alpha notes, with none of the usual chemical musks–for days when you need a little more power in the flesh.
Ginger and peppercorns that sweeten to ground spices, powdered cardamom and nutmeg, drier than dry toast, to the point that it makes me thirsty–almost itchy.
Half an hour in, the almonds warm up, and it gets creamier. A bit of floral musk makes it more palatable, and then the dry down is lovely, sandalwood with a hint of sweetness.
Stays politely in personal space for most of the day. Pair with a two liter drinking bottle.
Vintage Calycanthus.
Opens sharp and sweet, like peaches, then settles into soft green forest floor leaves with a cinnamon/curry melange–calycanthus is also called “spice-bush” and “sweet-shrub” in the US–and ends with ferns with cardamom spoor.
Interesting and unusual.
Released in 1970 as part of Bosari’s Library of Fragrance, but I don’t know if it was sold apart from the reference set.
It’s a spicy scent–reminds me of the curry-plants the herb guy at the farmer’s market sells.
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I’ve always liked this one.
Santa Maria Novella’s site calls Calicantus “a bouquet of fruity floral notes,” which makes it sound like every Victoria’s Secret bottle in the last two decades, and this is quite special.
It’s marketed to women, but has terrific bay notes usually found in seventies aftershaves, and I’d enjoy huffing it on a guy, too.
Opens soapy clean, with citrus blossoms that soon settle into calycanthus flowers–with the sweet clove/anise of carnation, but with a little more nectar on top, and the earthier base of honey on the bottom–and some woody support.
The dry down is quick yet unexpectedly sweet, the fruity notes in the description–peachy with an almond/sour cherry bite and a drop of amber.
Lasts on silk forever.
Calicantus came out in Florence in 1999, when Anna Oxo hit it big with Senza Pietà–Without Mercy.
Artsy bubblegum and I’m here for it.
The champagne and cardamom combination keeps it from being gooey, and the jasmine sweetens the sandalwood the perfect amount.
Sillage at arms length for an hour, and close to the skin for three more.
I wish I’d bought the big bottle.
Joan Jett is pretty remarkable.
A trip to India, for spices and Darjeeling and marigolds.
Opens with big bright lemon and brash cardamom–heaping handfuls still in their green pods.
There’s an interesting warm-and-cool, push-pull to the top notes that keeps it from settling down–and it stays that way, fresh from the citrus, yet powdery with the spice–for several hours at arms length.
Eventually green tea musk slides in, soothing it down and pulling the sillage in. Finishes with a breath of woody flowers on the skin.
A lovely scent for summer daytime wear.
Stromae is a Belgian musician who also manages to be both dry and refreshing (and stylish–his design line, Mosaert, is gorgeous!) His first hit came out in 2010, the same time as the fragrance.
Sweet and evil.
Lolita Lempicka Minuit Noir will always be my witching hour perfume–my house reeks of it on Halloween.
Sugar spells and dark iris magic, wicked candy licorice and violet patchouli brew.
It’s nicely powdery, keeping the juice intriguing–fey dust rather than cloying syrup.
Lasts all Samhain and charms sleeves for days after.
Fate for Women is the queen in an urban fantasy who reads your palm with a handshake and leaves you wondering if you’re going to be invited for a bedtime snack, or eaten in a stew.
Opens with cinnamon and pepper–almost itchy–then sweet incense flares with a breath of rose for an hour. Eventually the most gorgeous benzoin melts with vanilla into leather and lingers all night.
Incredible on silk scarves.
This cover of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins is spicy-smoky-amazing.
kira a. gold 