Pure Lily-of-the-Valley, first released in 1920.
The first notes are clean lemony florals, then the tune centers on delicate sweet white flowers with a creme fraiche texture.
Settles into gentle soap aldehydes at the end.
This might be a soliflore, but I get a tiny hit of orange blossom that curbs the usual green edge under the lily bells.
Lasts a pretty two hours close to the skin.
Another Lily-of-the-Vally.
Flowery jasmine pear for a few moments.
(I don’t get the chocolate.)
Rose and something minty that turns pleasantly bubblegummy for a while.
(Maybe there’s some chocolate in a peppermint chip ice cream way?)
Later a bit of sandalwood and amber tinged vanilla that WANTS to be chocolate–
(I probably shouldn’t test scents when I’m hungry.)
Yummy, but this one feels like a scent for a birthday party, rather than a person.
Best party song ever.
Lovely rosy cranberries, fresh and juicy at first hello.
Then it gets brilliant with an unusual spicy-sweet, warm floral–
Karo-karounde is an African bush related to coffee, with rich blooms said by the Perfume Society to smell like jasmine and chocolate. L’Artisan Parfumeur features it at the heart of Timbuktu.
–I get a lot of pink pepper and curry-plant from it, maybe even nutmeg.
The guy says it smells like cilantro.
I think he’s catching the green edge of the lily-of-the-valley, and maybe some of the sandalwood at the base.
Doesn’t project as much as the other Estee Lauder foghorns I’ve tried. Misty florals stay within personal space, with sweet spicy roses on the skin, for most of the day.
Pleasures came out in 1995, and Joan Osborne released One of Us. Prince covered it best.
Rhinestones rather than diamonds, but still fun to wear.
The tropical fruit salad opening has an orange edge that hits the back of the throat and unfortunately keeps the pear from sparkling, but it fades quickly to jasmine and warm musk on the skin for hours.
I’m a bit conflicted about the marketing. I went off a bit about philosophy’s “Nude Rose,” for using the same color scheme.
This song has all the color, cut and clarity.
TokyoMilk #15
Clementines and waxy white flowers and vetiver–but sadly dry, not a tongue-crazy kiss on the Eiffel Tower at all.
I’d love this as a linen spray on chaste nights, a goodnight sweetness rather than un baiser amoureux.
A cute little song sung by the former first lady of France–
There’s a high-end bridal shop dressing room vibe from this one–jasmine and chrome with infinite good taste.
Airy white flowers, with enough sandalwood on the bottom to make it shiny smooth.
The wet violet note (water violet is actually a type of aquatic primrose0 on the bottom lingers longest, into the late afternoon.
Mirror Lover is kind of shiny and smooth, too.
I get berry lemonade at first, then a mild iced jasmine tea. Two hours later there’s a trace of sweet patchy citrus musk on my skin.
Cleopatra is pretty, but a bit thin for the name–the Queen of the Nile conjures power and seduction, not summer drinks.
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:
TokyoMilk #09
Cake and lemon sorbet syrup–and waxy sweet flowers that are probably poisonous to cats–hover a foot off the skin for an hour, then settle to sour fruity sugar.
I like it, but aside from the jasmine-scented pancake make-up note, I get no sense of Japanese theater.
A Swedish jazz group mash up with traditional Hogaku instruments.
Nice rose oil by Kai, supported by magnolia and a mess of tuber-lily-of-the-jasmine. Lasts a pretty hour, then fades soapy-clean into the skin, with no residue.
I bet it would be great as a hair mist or deodorant, or even a moisture barrier to hold another scent to the skin–but it doesn’t say much on its own.
This song doesn’t say much either, but it’s pretty.
kira a. gold 