Gotta luv White Elephant gift exchanges.
I traded fuzzy socks for this.
Safe for tweens–a tropical peony that fades to a drip of melted mango mochi on the school uniform–with a performance modest enough for the strictest parental approval.
My feet are sad.
*
XOXO is an American fast fashion brand owned by the umbrella company Kellwood out of Hong Kong (that also owns Baby Phat and Rebecca Taylor.)
Another teenage XOXO–Canadian-Korean artist Jeon Somi put this album out this year.
Lattafa Perfumes (out of the United Arab Emirates) can be found fairly easily online or in the beauty section of import shops at great prices–Qaa’ed cost me less than a tub of pistachio halva.
And while the eau doesn’t exactly smell rich, there’s some good spiced leather packed in the glitzy bottle.
Opens with a big dose of amber cinnamon sweetened with vanilla, then five minutes in cardamom carries in the leather–new work boots with rubber soles and saffron suede car coats lined with polyester–a bit synthetic, but made to last.
And the woods on the bottom do last, even through a hot bath, spicy oud and buckskin still sweet the next day.
Could be an affordable alternative to Bvlgari Black, especially in autumn–the cool florals replaced with warmth.
*
Love this collaboration from these two Dubai based musicians.
Now this is what a Halloween fragrance should be–weird, earthy, evocative, and tricky sweet.
TokyoMilk Dark #17 lists Absinthe, Vanilla Salt, Cut Greens, and Crushed Fennel on the bottle–and Arsenic lives up to that, and more.
Wormwood out of the bottle, a satisfying poison green, with a bit of dusty white frosting, both edible and stand-offish.
A twitch of licorice keeps it fresh and fun for several hours at the edge of social distance, and then slides down to intimate space with intoxicating herbal green woods and mineral salts–the the kind that smell a bit sour and glitter when the light hits them right–until the next morning.
The sweeter top notes linger longer on hair and silk, and the bottom blooms brilliantly in a steaming bath (or cauldron.)
Compelling and sexy.
Leans to the warlock section of the spell-book.
*
Cheap, and smells it–thin watery flowers that turn pale violet, then get sad and cloying with generic musk and vanilla.
If this were a costume it would be a Disney knockoff from the Dollar $tore with a vinyl cape and hard plastic mask.
A scent named after the best holiday ever should be exciting and mysterious. Maybe a little weird, a bit earthy, or candy sweet and spicy.
And it doesn’t have to be expensive–Lolita Lempicka is perfect for the occasion (with much better violet vanilla musk), Coriandre is a brilliant witchy scent, Dead Sexy is spooky fun–or get creative and give that adorable homemade Snow White a dab of apple candy flavoring oil on her cuffs.
Stay safe, and have fun.
*
One of my seasonal favorites:
Cherry vanilla ice cream, artificially flavored and freezer burnt, and awesome.
Opens with a room filling puff of mimosa and ylang-ylang, but with just enough herbal citrus to keep from slipping into banana peel territory.
Fifteen minutes later and the heliotrope takes over with powdery synthetic almonds, musk and vanilla, worthy of a Lolita Lempicka flanker if it were faceted rather than creamy.
Melts to the skin after three hours, and stays there with dusty soft-serve woods through the evening.
Cheap and chic but sweet and nostalgia inducing, like a slow club remix of a favorite song.
*
Dimond Saints do some amazing mixes.
Is Tom Ford trying to be the Timothy Leary of perfumery?
Seems like his best stuff is all-about-the-experience-man, and Bitter Peach is a mescaline trip.
First spray goes on with a swirly peach milkshake, but with the sugar turned down and spiked with amaretto–not for children and kind of amazing, for a quarter hour or so.
Then it gets down to business, a sour mash fruity Mandelbrot set that could be edged with almonds, cigarettes, cinnamon, and more, (but is really just intoxicated florals)–mixed with a few paranoid minutes of nauseating pizza and sour milk vomit–which is how you know the drugs have kicked in, right?
Then everything mellows out and turns dreamy and sexy, the peaches held a few inches above the skin with patchi sandalwood and made creamy with vanilla and benzoin for the rest of the evening.
Chaotic and fun.
Please use responsibly.
*
This slowed down cover of the Beatles’ hit draws out the psychedelics but is no less frenetic.
Spooky Tooth released The Last Puff in 1970–their I Am the Walrus was used in the (hopefully not) last episode of the brilliant show Watchmen.
Cher’s first fragrance is as loud, sexy, ageless and gorgeous as she is.
Opens with aldehydic citrus dirtied up nicely with tobacco, in a lounge act vibe that shimmers with heliotrope sequins and ylang-ylang fringe, and completely fills the room with contralto vanilla.
The set lasts all night, on a stage of soft woods, fairly linear with some dark synth sweetness flickering in and out, just to keep it interesting.
Uninhibited came out in the late eighties, and now seems a little retro, like a good torch-song should, nostalgic and boozy-bluesy–yet it doesn’t seem dated.
Imagine Chanel No. 5‘s aldehyde and ylang-ylang sampled into Tom Ford’s Tobacco Vanille, in Met Gala gear.
Bottles can still be found on-line or secondhand. If you spot a gently used bottle for a reasonable price, snatch it up with an “I’ve Got You, Babe.”
*
Cher’s covers are brilliant–this is one of my favorites.
“Eighth Day” seems rather dated at first–big myrrh out of the bottle with apple cider spices, and some sandalwood and rose–like she’s stuck in a1990’s soundtrack.
But as it settles to the skin, the mix-tape gets sweet with honey, and there are some good tunes in there, ylang-ylang with some long lasting vanilla that is too good to go out of style.
Nice for autumn, and an easy one to find, if you’re into retro vintages and cinnamon.
My mini seems to have aged well–no “off” notes and the juice juice is still clear–possibly because the stopper is ridiculously tight. The cap went flying when I finally got it out, and I splashed quite a bit on my couch.
So I can confirm that this does, in fact, linger for eight days.
*
8e Jour came out in 1993, along with this classic.
The ad says a lot of pretty things involving fancy car interiors and the Roman countryside, but I get old diner next to a truck stop–chocolate ice cream sundaes, chrome and red leather bar stools, cigarette smoke and Trident gum–in the best way.
Brash and loud at the start, then melting into sweetness, the leather is almost edible, but for the marvelous hit of car-exhaust labdanum.
I can find the tomato leaf after I know to look for it, a twang of green with a metallic discord, but it fades after the first hour, drowning in the syrupy resins at the bottom of the dish. I wish it lasted longer–the sharpness is interesting, and cuts through the vanilla.
The benzoin and myrrh stay half the day on skin, and whisper the next morning on cotton.
Lots of fun.
*
Chuck Berry’s “You Can Never Tell” is a diner jukebox staple–
I never really thought of Shamrock Shakes as sexy, but daaamn–this is a guy’s gourmand done right.
A milky mint confection spiked with orange flavored gin–(Tanqueray Flor de Sevilla is a pretty nice one)–that elevates it out of after school detours for fast food and into high end pastry shops with a liquor license.
Lolita Lempicka’s trademark syrupy-yet-powdery vanilla musk, here turned into sweet green teasing shadows, drifts in and out of intimate space all day, whispering invitations to drinks and dessert.
Yum.
*
kira a. gold 