Rectangular bottle with gold cap and double sided label printed with songbirds.
TokyoMilk #57 lists Hyacinth, Iris, Citrus Zest and Crisp Greens on the bottle, and there’s no false advertising there, aside from the “blue.”
This is a green scent, and cheerful.
A splash of green leaves, almost bamboo sweet, with a tiny hit of bergamot rind, and hyacinth–which comes across rather lilac–and a faint smear of petroleum jelly. Lasts an hour with six-foot sillage, then fades to the skin with a light summery-lawn musk.
Good for socially distant outdoor concerts.
*
A pretty summer song. Not the best recording, but I like it.
Fuchsia capped rollerball bottle on mound of turbinado sugar. The eau de toilette is quite viscous, as syrupy as honey.
One of everything in a pay-by-the-pound candy store stuffed into a bottle.
Aquolina’s best seller is one of the most accessible gourmand fragrances out there. Cheap and available, and marketed with childish sweet-shoppe vibes, Pink Sugar is the Candy Crush Saga of perfumes.
And I’ve finally recovered from my daughter’s teenage obsession with Bath & Body Works’ Warm Vanilla Sugar, (the only way to exorcise that stuff from the house is to paint the walls–seriously, there isn’t enough sage in the world) to sniff this without instinctively reaching for aspirin.
Opens with screaming marshmallows and raspberry gum-drops and orange Pixy-Stix, loud as elementary school recess. The rush soon melts into huge clouds of cotton candy nicely dirtied up with a little licorice. A bit more grown up, a little flirty, red heart-shaped lolly-pops get passed like notes in the cafeteria. At the bottom is caramel, with just enough musk to keep it from being completely cloying, chewy vanilla that lasts all day and sticks to clothes like toffee.
And yes, the stuff is mind-numbingly sweet, but it’s also fun, and I can see why so many bottles peek out of the purses of grown women, too.
*
I saw her in concert when I was 14. She was amazing.
Coreterno sample card and spray, with some artsy marketing swag featuring Baroque boys in tights.
One to wear with ratty Converse All Stars, sucking down an Orange Julius–while you’re shopping at Tiffany’s. Like there’s a comfortable I-don’t-give-two-shits vibe, but it’s really high end.
Marshmallow citrus at the start, a bit of rose meringue in the middle, creamy vanilla and salty musk at the base. Rather than being sticky, the sugar is airy and light, yet also very rich.
Stays inside the clothes for half the day, and leaves a faint sweet funk on the cuffs ’til evening. If I could actually afford to shop at Tiffany’s, I’d bathe in the stuff.
Large 4711 flask–the glass is the palest amber–in a puddle of sunlight and water, with a seashell.
This is quite nice.
Opens with subtle wet fruit (the ad copy says watermelon and star anise, and I get it, after knowing what to look for) and sweet frangipani. Coconut ebbs in with vanilla in a sheer musky suntan lotion that lasts an extraordinary long time for 4711–the “Acqua Colonia Intense” wears like good eau de toilette–three hours with arm’s length sillage. I don’t get much of the woods on the dry-down, maybe a hint on my cotton cuffs, but there’s an unexpected smudge of caramel on the skin that I like.
Definitely unisex, but on masculine types this would come across as very luxe, a Tom Ford-ish Soleil for a tenth of the price.
YSL Black Opium mini bottle–an asphalt surfaced redux of the original flask–with a pink porthole window. And half a pear.
I remember first hearing about this–I hoped for a noir version of YSL’s original Opium, à la Lolita Lempicka Midnight, taking the heady spicy notes even deeper, more mysterious–but they took it to a confectionery, instead.
The opening breath is fresh sliced pears, but then it goes syrup sweet, the garnish on a marzipan tart–but soon honey florals hit the back of the throat, until it dries down to patchi woods with a pleasant grit of coffee-pot grounds, as if to wash down all the sugar.
So many people get a different dessert note, with it’s own particular vibe. I’ve seen descriptions of a relaxing cafe latte, a black pepper licorice twist, narcotic vanilla, sticky candied fruits– I get the whole damned sweet shoppe, and while I love a good gourmand, this one just left me with sour caffeine breath and a desperate need to go brush my teeth.
*
Miley covered the Arctic Monkeys in 2014, the same year Black Opium came out.
Cut glass cologne bottle with pale green and gold label, and box with green tea illustration.
I’m really enjoying this one from 4711’s Limited Tea edition.
Soft and sweet green tea over milky tropical florals in a soothing cologne with surprising projection and staying power. Usually 4711 Acqua Colonias are gone in ten minutes with almost no sillage at all–and that’s part of their charm, a secret personal pick-me-up–but this floats around the body for a good half hour with matcha mochi coolness, and the frangipani lingers on silk all day.
Leans to the feminine in a fluttery skirts way. Also brilliant on bath towels.
*
This song always soothes my soul. A lot of folks have covered it, but Eva Cassidy’s version is my favorite.
Clear ice-cube shaped bottle with tall gold cap, and black and white and red packaging.
Kimberly New York’s site lists Asian pear and Fiji apple, Jamaican rose apple, and champagne.
I’m not discerning enough to sniff out which apple is which, but they’re lovely and crisp, with that marvelous boozy-floral note that fresh red peel has. There’s a powdery wax accord, almost like taffy with a hint of violets–recognizable if you’ve ever gone to a pick-your-own orchard–the dusty rime an apple produces naturally, that I just love.
Artsy–Kimberly Walker’s flagship fragrance–has the same candied apples at its heart. In Diaspora they’re the full body and soul, not just a note but the whole song. I get gourmet wine gums at the bottom, a little younger vibe than bubbly, but equally as fun.
Like Indigo Love, my skin gobbles this up, so I have to reapply often (no hardship at all, because it feels delicious) but it lasts much longer in my hair, and forever on cotton.
kira a. gold 