Rose Flash

A yellow long stemmed rose balanced on a signature Tauerville bottle–a cube with a navy and white graphic label–filled with dark amber extrait.

Rose Flash has a lot of ties with my beloved Slumberhouse S├ądanne, another psychedelic fruity rose wine with woods at the bottom, but instead of the Scandinavian seashore, the Tauer version is set in a Persian garden.

Vibrant roses, heady and lush, edged with green.
They take a lemon curd turn–piquant, a bit balsamic, sweetened with honey–projecting into living space for most of the day, while a bit of cinnamon spice sits close to the skin.
Resinous wood gives structure, support for berry canes and ripening rose-hips, that lasts til next morning.

There’s something wild and carnal about it–like the roses in Eden lost their innocence along with Adam and Eve–that is addictive.
Luckily, Tauerville is one of the most affordable niche lines out there–about a third of the price of Slumberhouse.

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Ananda Shankar was an Indian sound artist who fused traditional music from all over the world with jazz, funk, and synth.

Fruitchouli Flash

Sugar coated peach gummy candy and a bottle with a black and white “F” Tauerville label.

A spontaneous date in a bottle that starts flirty and sweet, and ends dirty (in the best way.)

Comes in with a two pound bag of Haribo peach gummies and an armload of white roses that soon get rogered up by earthy patchouli.
Brash and loud, it gives you a laughing good time, and hangs out til the next morning.

And I’d call it “genderful” rather than “unisex,” sliding all over the spectrum–from sugary feminine florals to blunt masculine woods–rather than staying in some safe place in between.

Fun.

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A genderful song that’s not by Cher or Bowie:

Tuberose Flash

Tauerville black and white label bottle, casting prism shadows. I wish this one came in larger amounts–I’d buy it by the quart.

Tank Battle’s older sibling who drinks too much and swears a lot, and I’m obsessed.

A shot of benzoin bourbon out of the bottle and a heavy draw of labdanum smoke, and then slides easy into creamy tuberose. Sweet and lazy, it lingers close for the evening, a faint breath of patchouli keeping it just a little dirty.

Sexy as hell.

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The opening of this is fun–I love when musicians tune onstage.