This hit me with pruned roses in a vase, overly sugared lemonade, then amaretto non-dairy creamer–gorgeous wild things tamed and tempered to be generic.
I felt the need to mind my dirty mouth, to check my shirt buttons for too much cleavage.
Then the guy said, “You smell like my mother.
So that’s that.
I’m not often one for acapella, but this is kind of amazing.
This one is fruit syrup made from Italian plums and fresh picked raspberries, purple flowers and vanilla underneath, but with a hint of metal, like that sourness of sucking on a penny.
The amber musk base gives it enough gravitas to take a high school girl into college, and it lasts for days on skin and weeks on clothes.
It’s a rather brilliant note in Britney Spear’s collection–a teenage lipstick fashionista graduating magna cum laude with advanced studies in sociology.
One of my guilty pleasure songs–
Charonge–carrion–sounds prettier in French.
Also, ew.
Edit – 10/21/21
Yep, this is as gross as I remember.
Starts out with white funeral flowers, then devolves into rotted meat and fecal smearing, with some vanilla on the bottom to make it even more disgusting.
*
A song about carrion crows–
Muzzy nut candy.
Opens clear yet cloyingly sweet, a fizzy cream soda with a hint of almond and pistachio flavoring–then gets murky as it warms into a nasty yet kind of enjoyably sweaty honey amber.
Edit – 4/7/22
This one is still in production–not a bad buy for a light gourmand with acceptable performance.
The candle has a lot more nuts.
*
I love this old school new generation blues!
This is amazing.
Opens up with glorious daddy issues of pipe tobacco and bourbon, then dresses in a chocolate velvet vest with a watch chain and takes me out to the lesbian billiards bar.
I drink vanilla shots until I’m cut off for spilling one and we go home to empty cabinets except for that fruitcake I re-gifted and got back two years later.
It’s delicious. Best date ever.
Filthiest song ever.
Dior’s Hypnotic Poison is the femme fatale in the upscale mall who laces the gourmet sweets with cyanide.
It took over my house and punched me in the teeth and made me watch movies about international intrigue.
Jordan Almonds and loud vanilla sex, this stuff.
Morcheeba, a trip-hop R&B band, has been going strong since the mid nineties, too. This song has some of the same lethal sweetness.
“Lemon leather,” “vanilla vinyl,” “rubber baby powder flowers,” and “amber sandalwood,” are all tongue twisters.
Black is equally confounding, made up of all those seemingly discordant syllables, yet somehow is absolutely marvelous.
Yes, it smells like WD-40* and tires–but they’re not Goodyear treads baking in the summer sun at a smoky track, they’re Victorian bicycle tyres ridden by gentlefolk on jasmine lined lanes in the spring.
And no, I’m not going to wear it–but I’ve read quite a few romances that feature a mechanic who cleans up nice, and in my head they smell just like this.
* (Have you ever looked at the ingredients list on the can? There’s a hefty gob of vanillin in that silicone oil.)
*
Brilliant busty bubblegum and bisexual bananas.
Edit – 10/19/21
Truth or Dare was the first movie I ever saw where on-screen homosexuality wasn’t portrayed as a hardship, flaw or deviance.
I still think about that sometimes.
*
And this how you change the standards of the entertainment industry:
Vanillary smells like that $70 candle you scored for $6 at TJMaxx–a little chipped at the edges but still classy and delicious AF.
It’s a big cloud of ice cream cupcake, though a bit dirty, as if it had been picked up from the floor within the 5 second rule.
This song also came out in 2009. Smooth and sweet with some dirty bass–one of my all time favorites.
kira a. gold 