Le Labo is a new perfumery in NYC. Robin at NST posted about their opening a week or so ago. With the noses they have working for them, these had to be great things, so I ordered the small bottles of Ciste 18, Fleur D’Oranger 27, Vetiver 46, and they sent me a sample of the Rose 31.

Fleur D’Oranger 27 — Orange blossom, musk, bergamot, petit grain and lemon are the notes. My nose has pronounced it absolutely gorgeous. A great orange blossom, as good as L’Artisan’s solifore, but with a little more depth and magic to it. This one is a true keeper, just heavenly. If you aren’t a fan of orange flower, this one probably won’t change your mind, but it is a nice earthy orange blossom, definitely not too sweet, so it might be one that works for you.

Vetiver 46 — Notes of Haitian vetiver, pepper, gaiac, labdanum, cedar, and olibanum. This is for a man, but it sounded gorgeous from the notes. It may be my skin, but it just doesn’t work for me at all. Just tangy pungent medicinal smell, not me at all. If I don’t put my nose down too close to it, it’s not as horrible as I think it is, but put the nose close, and it’s just, well, not me. I’m sparing any unkind words only because I’m thinking at this point it’s just a reaction to my skin or my nose and this really isn’t this unlovely.

Rose 31 – Grasse rose, cumin, olibanum, cedar, amber, gaiac wood, cistus and animalic notes. Sniffing this out of the bottle, what a stunner it should be. Put it on, perfectly gorgeous. Then something bad happened after about 15 minutes. I was sent twirling back through the space/time continuum and landed in Dr. Heisterman’s office, looking at the cheap little rings and wailing inconsolably while he gave me a very hated shot. How in the heck did that happen? The rose wilted, and it was just Eau de Doctor’s Office.
Okay, this can’t be right at all. So we are trying it again, but this time we shook up the little tester to make sure it was all mixed up properly, and now we have a beautiful, cedary rose that would be great for a guy (this is intended for guys). It’s not sweet, but it is rosy in an elegant, understated way. I do think mixing is key, so turn the tube a few times before you apply on some of these, or you may wind up in the wrong spot in your life weeping copiously.

Ciste 18 – oriental notes, with animal intonations of civet and castoreum. I have no idea why I ordered this one. I’m not a skank girl. I mean, I can be a skanky girl, but I generally like my skank cleaned up a little. This ain’t bad as your skank goes (sorry, in Nashville, they’re rubbing off on me. I’m afixin to get Southern by the end of today). For those of you that like your perfume to show up in peek-a-boo pnaties, you’ll like this one. I like it, even though it’s not my normal style. I agree with Marina that it has a very definite Musc Ravageur likeness. And it sticks like glue. I woke up this morning with just that one remaining all over everything.

So out of the four, the Ciste and the Fleur D’Oranger are definite winners. As long as the doctor’s office doesn’t show up in the Rose 31 one again, I could learn to really love that one too. The Vetiver just wasn’t me. I don’t know who it would be, and I don’t think I want to know who it would be or meet them ever in a dark alley or anywhere there isn’t a priest present, and I hope I just got a bad mix.

Now I very much want to try some others in the line. They are planning on offering a sampler pack in the next month or so.
Anyone read Spanish? I got this really cool Magiff nail thing that gives my nails a clear polish shine without the polish, but the directions are in Spanish? I think I know what to do from the demonstration, but I would so like to be sure.

Patty

Visiting the Perfume Counter is sometimes like entering another plane of existence. Either they completely ignore you while busy with the CCX customer or talk on the phone with their BFF Jodee, or they pounce on you like raw meat that just got tossed into the lion’s cage.

There used to be a great SA at my local Sak’s perfume counter, Mi, but of course, they bumped her upstairs to Armani women’s clothing because she was so good, and her replacement is, well, entertaining and a little manic. Every time I go to that counter now, she doesn’t exactly pounce, but she just starts whirling around the counter like someone just wound her up and set her to spinning. She picks up a scent card, brings out some random scent, and sprays it and tosses it at me, moves on to the next one, card, spray, toss. I get dizzy watching her, and the feedback she gets from me does not impact her movement much, except like when you poke your finger at a top, it may change direction a bit, but that is all. My usual, “I have that, I’ve tried that, I hate that, no, not that crap again, please put down the card and the sprayer and step away from the counter” just fall like raindrops in the desert — quickly absorbed, with no meaninful impact.

She blithely continues whirling and tossing, and I just decide which I want to sample on my skin (this whole card thing just baffles me — how do you know if you will buy something from a scented card? This is just one step up from buying from a magazine sniff strip) and I wait until she has fluttered past in a slowing frenzy and ask her to please ring up whatever it is I’ve decided on, or I just slink away while she continues the dance like a ballerina in a slowing music box. (image from Unesco)

Why is it you can’t buy makeup with your husband? My husband is a great shopper, hardly ever complains, actually likes to shop for most things, but once we get to the mascara and blush and other potions, his eyes glaze over, I feel the pressure and cannot relax and just enjoy the whole makeup-buying experience at all. Do they just not want to know? He won’t watch me put on makeup either. These are the things that trouble my peaceful existence.

Frederic Malle Noir Epices — I know there are some huge fans of this Malle, but I don’t know if the spices got too dark or what. I’ve wanted to love it, but I put this on and in 10 minutes my head hurts, all I can smell is the darkness in this perfume and no spice at all. But what a name!! The name makes me think of long, spice-scented nights in the desert.

Le Labo — I got three of these today in the mail, Ciste 18, Fleur D’Oranger 27, Vetiver 46 and a sample of Rose 31. Lord, these are cuteness in a bottle. Two are stunners right out of the bottle, and the other two I’m not sure of yet.

But now it is time for a trip to Nashville, yeehawww!

Patty

L’Artisan was the first niche line I fell for. Here are brief notes on some of the less common L’Artisans worth exploring:

Fleur de Carotte — baby carrot, cucumber, tarragon, lettuce, apricot, ginger. I burst out laughing the first time I smelled this. Yes, it smells like a carrot and it is gorgeous. If you think of the smell of a carrot in terms of its delicate, vegetal sweetness, and add a bit of green from the garden, and a thin slice of fresh ginger, you’re there. This deserves to be more popular. Buy some so they don’t discontinue it. My decant is gone. How do I get Patty to buy this so I can get my hands on some more? Hmmmm….

Un Zest D’Ete — lemon rind, orange bergamot, grapefruit and lemon blossom, is, as the name suggests, geared toward summer, released in 2003 and still available online. I’d pegged this one as my favorite. I love things sharp and citrusy, and grapefruit and lemon blossom suit me perfectly. This one is stronger than you might expect, easily the strongest of the four, and unfortunately the bergamot basically buries all the other notes on me, except for a hint of grapefruit. However, if you are a big fan of bergamot, you might want to try this one. I would re-name this Bergamot Extreme.

Oeillet Sauvage (Wild carnation) — pink berries and pepper, rose, ylang ylang, lily, gillyflower, vanilla. This is the somewhat sweeter, more multifloral but still very pretty cousin to Floris Malmaison. I like the Malmaison better. However, if it struck you as a bit too linear but you loved the idea of carnation, you might want to give this a go. But hurry up, rumor has it it’s being discontinued, which is a damn shame.

Jacinthe des Bois (Hyacinth of the Woods) — tulip, galbanum, sap, narcissus, broom, beeswax, mate and melilot. Sap scents tend to register as a weird, mothball-like note on me, and this is no exception. But the mothball fades after the first 15 minutes and leaves me with an arrangement of fresh flowers as haunting as Giacobettis ethereal En Passant for Frederic Malle, only less melancholy. I don’t see hyacinth listed in the notes (!) but as far as I’m concerned this is a realistic representation of the hyacinth and broom blooming right now in the garden next door. Also being discontinued.

Note: samples of these L’Artisan scents are available at Lusciouscargo.com.

Finally, let us change direction and look briefly at Marc Jacobs’ new line of splash colognes (10 oz., $65 at Nordstrom), Grass, Cotton and Rain. The bottles are lovely and clean-looking, although they look, um, a little familiar (Jo Malone, call your lawyers!) Unfortunately, their appearance is the extent of their charms. The Grass was not greener, I didn’t cotton to Cotton, and Rain distinguishes itself only by its level of relative sweetness. Yes, I understand these are splashes, and yes, they’re supposed to be light. But please. These are pathetic. I could buy something more distinctive at Crabtree & Evelyn for one-third the price. You gave us the stellar Blush, and then you stooped to this?

March

My sister and her daughter were out this last weekend, and we just had a blast shopping and watching Pride and Prejudice and being sisters, as we always do. For those of you that have sisters you are close to, you know what I’m talking about, there is nothing like a sister you love unabashedly who shares your history and gets all of your stupid jokes. My niece is a senior in high school, so this was the last prom dress shopping that will ever be done for her, so it was a little poignant, and I was just so darn happy to get to go for the first time! I have two boys, so there hasn’t been and never will be any prom dress shopping for me. Well, there could be, I guess, but my boys haven’t taken up cross-dressing so far.

For so many years, my sister and I have shared our love of perfume. I’d get some new things and head out to Kansas to visit, and she’d paw through my suitcase to see what I had and find some new things to love and convince me to get her for her next birthday.

About eight months ago, Shirley (my sister) had a bad sinus infection, and her sense of smell just was pretty warped and twisted for a long time. Anything that smelled great now smelled awful. Anything that smelled awful now was tolerable. She knew when a perfume was really good because it made her nose ache. After a few doctors, some bad and some good, she has finally gotten recently what looks to be a good course of treatment to help right her wrecked sense of smell, and it is slowly coming back. There are some notes that still stink to high heaven for her, like sandalwood and patchouli. How hard it has been these last few months because we couldn’t share that love of perfume. She would just be sad, and I didn’t want to make her feel bad, so it is good that we are getting back to sharing again, this weekend was just fun to go sniffing away like we used to. It’s been interesting to watch the process and see how one note can ruin what is a great concoction for her still. It makes me wonder what receptor that one note is hitting that still is inflamed to make it so wretched.

Smell as a whole is a strange mystery to me anyway. I don’t know why it is so powerful, but so hard to pin down. I know lots of people are good at picking out notes, but how can they do that? It is just some little tiny molecules floating in the air. I find it a wondrous thing and a great miracle that we can enjoy something so much that is, basically, nothing. And through my sister, I can now empathize with the pain people feel when it is taken away from them. It is a hard sense to do without.

I was fortunate enough recently to get a great deal on The Bay for the whole little Frederic Malle Sampler pack. There are many I have not tried in here and a few that I wanted to try again, and one that I hated twice, swapped or gave away that has re-entered my life. Malle has been a slow love. There are a few I loved instantly, but most just didn’t do it for me right out of the bottle, but that is how Serge was.

Musc Ravageur — Wicked little perfume. This was to be my third and last time with this scent. There is something about it that is so decadent and hot, like your Sunday morning bed after an amazing Saturday night date. It is a little musky and a little sweet, and I’ve managed to fall in love with it finally. This isn’t a scent I can wear most days, but on the days when it works, I get why it has all the fans that it does. It is ideal for meeting some hot, inappropriately young Latin guy in a bad part of town, or at least thinking that’s what you should do when you wear it.

Lys Mediterranee — I love Serge Lutens’ Un Lys, but this one is lighter, not as likely to annoy your neighbor on an airplane. While I love lillies with a passion, they can be overbearing in their fragrance, but this one is a beauty and incredibly wearable even for those who aren’t big lilly fans.

I intend to go through the rest of my little sampler pack of Frederic Malles over the next couple of weeks. There’s some losers in there too, but these two just leaped out as two that will join Carnal Flower, Iris Poudre and Lipstick Rose of Malles that I love.

Patty

My #1 daughter was yearning for her first bottle of perfume, one she’d choose, not one of the gazillions of samples, decants and bottles I’ve provided for her gratis. (She mostly wears the Clean line, graciously provided by Patty). I told her I’d entertain the idea but was making no promises, and off we headed to the department store and Sephora. She wanted to smell DKNY Be Delicious, because her grrrl hero Emma Watson (of Harry Potter fame) wears it, but she wanted to try things on before making her decision. She joins me on my perfume forays because I love the way things smell on her; her skin is slightly oily and she almost always brings out the best a fragrance has to offer. One unexpected but fun result of all this is that she’s developed a spot-on nose, and frequently points out some element I might have missed.

In Sephora we found a patient, young SA who understood the assignment and we got busy. We tried on DKNY Be Delicious and Red Delicious, but both were really too old for her, a realization which caused me to reassess them in terms of their deceptive simplicity. Be has the refreshing bitterness of a tart green apple without (and this is the interesting part) actually smelling like a green apple, and the Red is both less sweet and more juicy/spicy than I first realized. We tried on the new Lacoste Touch of Pink, which smelled nice but way too musky on my young teenager. We’d already dismissed the Escada summer scents (are there really four of them now? Ibiza something, Island mmmph, Rockin’ Rio, and, uh, the new one, Grumpy? Doc?) because she finds them too sweet (!) and on her they are peculiarly short-lived for something so aggressive out of the bottle.

The Stilas were all wrong for her, although I love their makeup. She tried on something else (she couldn’t remember what), sniffed, and said ‘it smells like Play-Doh.’ I sniffed it skeptically and, yup, precisely. I was forced to revisit Britney Spears Curious and Fantasy (she loved that bottle!) and, again, to concede that, while I am at least 20 years older than their target audience, those are both legitimate, thought-out fragrances, as opposed to, say, Jessica Simpsons Dessert line, which is such crap it should be illegal. (There. I’ve said it. That stuff is so nasty my 8-year-old won’t touch it.) I admit I was quietly relieved that she failed to fall in love with any of the J. Lo fragrances, even though (God, shoot me now) two of them, Live and Love at First Glow (ack!) were reasonable contenders.

She wound up with a bottle of Ralph: ‘sparkling green apple leaves, zesty orange mandarin, charismatic pink magnolia, seductive purple freesia, and soft blue musk that explodes into a colorful floral fragrance.’  Sephora. With its chunky bottle, bright color and clean, bold graphics, Ralph (along with Ralph Hot and Ralph Cool) appear to be aimed at a younger demographic. Ralph is the apple-green scent she clearly liked in Be Delicious, rendered in a softer, less sophisticated, more floral way. I can’t imagine anyone much past high school wanting it, but it’s perfect for her right now.

Finally, at Sephora I sampled yet another new, dull spring Guerlain  I can’t even find it online. They must have a giant vat of unmemorable, fruity-floral juice they just keep decanting into an endless stream of bottles with girly pink logos and equally insipid names based around the words ‘precious,’ ‘heart,’ and ‘love.’

At Nordstrom I was thrilled to discover some new spring scents that are departures from the endless parade of summer-type simple florals. Armani Code for Women EDP (orange flower, fresh ginger, honey, sandalwood), has a gorgeous slender blue bottle with a black lace pattern embossed on it. The juice itself is curiously spring-fallish; the SA described it as more ‘sensual’ but I’m not sure I’m going there. What it has is the bright weightlessness of a summer fragrance but the dark seriousness of a fall fragrance, and it’s quite a winning effect. I get very little orange on me, it’s spicy ginger, sweet honey and dry sandalwood. It has decent lasting power.

Vertigo by Vertigo (Californian lemon, Brazilian orange, spices, roses, jasmine absolute, tuberose, ylang ylang, sandalwood and white cedar) is a fresh, light summery fragrance that is primarily citrus and cedar on me, although the jasmine and tuberose assert themselves a bit more in the drydown. It manages to be feminine without being insipid. My only quibble is the name, which makes me think of Gucci Rush and would be appropriate for something racier. This girly little number should be called something like: Tulle. Taffeta?

While I won’t go so far as to say that I think Code for Women and Vertigo are brilliant, they differentiate themselves from most of the mid-range department store fragrances in that I’d actually wear either one of them cheerfully if someone gave me a bottle. Would I buy one for myself? Hmmmmm, the Vertigo, no, but the Code is a definite possibility. Both are available at Nordstrom.com and probably plenty of other places.

March