There’s a pun here, because it opens with a breath of incense, like a burning vanilla bean–
Then it settles to the skin with a sheer dry cedar-y vanilla warmed by amber, and slowly fades to nothing.
I wish it had better performance–I’d love it on the artist with rough hands who eats from bowls they’ve made and has a houseful of rescue dogs.
Here’s more Vanille, with Follow the Sun.
This is what you wind up smelling like when you’ve been attacked in Bath & BodyWorks by the associate wielding Warm Vanilla Sugar, and you try to wash it off in their dinky sink with something that promises to be perfume-free but isn’t.
Here’s another “Skin.” Much sweeter, and twice as sultry.
Opens with caramel cubes and sweet flower water in a blast of candy store goodness, then snacks on marshmallow fluff on toast, the crusts cut off, pretty please?
The sugar rush is loud but cute, and lasts three-quarters of an hour.
This was my favorite song when I was little:
A fruity failed sobriety test.
Opens with party-girl peaches, so alcoholic they need rehab. Once they dry up, they give off morning after fumes of vanilla and stale sandalwood breath.
Oddly, it’s very enjoyable on clothes–a splash of apricot brandy musk that lasts til laundry day–but on my skin it’s soured pear custard, so I’ll keep it for a scarf scent.
My little mini was from the first release in 1995. (The name changed to plain Burberry on the next pressing.) Edwyn Collins came out with A Girl Like You the same year. I like this updated reggae femme version a lot.
Bingo hall piña coladas.
Peppery amber ashtrays, coconut and pineapple daiquiri mix, sandalwood sawdust on the floor, and plastic flower musk underneath.
It’s kind of awesome in a retro chichi skirt way, though I was sort of hoping for some melting clocks, or waves that went on for eternity. Doesn’t last long, but finishes on a lovely patchouli tinged vanilla.
This song was also released in Spain in 1991– the title track of Vicente Amigo’s first album.
Big alpha leather with a lemon creme center.
This guy shows up at the party in work boots, carrying a box of chocolates. He appreciates your top shelf liquor cabinet, but doesn’t stay long.
I like him.
Ievan Polkka–also known as the Leekspin song to Bleach fans–by the Finnish group Loituma, is awesome.
I get dolls heads, when they break down and become sticky, flowery vanilla and non-dairy creamer.
There’s a naughty age-inappropriate edge to it–the nursery nanny in the push-up bra–but it doesn’t do more than flirt for a while.