There is Candy at the end of this post. But first there is Trouble.

On Saturday I smelled trouble. In our house I often smell trouble rather than hear it, because trouble is preternaturally quiet; in fact, the absence of the usual level of screaming is a good sign in itself that trouble is on the hoof.

I figured out the nature of Saturday’s trouble well before I entered the twins’ bedroom. A visual inspection confirmed the worst: they’d located a long-forgotten economy-sized tube of petroleum-based diaper rash salve, which they’d managed to squeeze and smear over various parts of the room and themselves. Two baby-shampoos of the girl-child’s hair failed to put a dent in the gunk, which is why I’ve been shampooing her long tresses in the backyard three times a day with Dawn dishwashing liquid while she stands there naked. Her hair is extremely well-conditioned right now. I am assuming the room will eventually absorb all the salve I couldn’t remove.

The twins are almost four, and they are Trouble. The boy-child of the pair (let’s call him Buckethead, which is, in fact, what we call him, among other things) generally confines his trouble to more limited collateral damage, content to hurl Barney videocassettes into the empty fireplace until they break, or toss his used cereal bowl into our farmhouse sink for the satisfying sound of crockery shattering.

The girl-child (let’s call her Hecate) is more of a visionary. She prefers her trouble Installation-Style — the sort of Trouble that takes creativity, planning, and effort to execute, and leaves a lasting impression, like Christo and his miles of fabric. She was the force behind the Sharpie Fiasco, Water Damage On The Ceiling (I and II), and the Toothpaste Debacle. She hears the siren call of Trouble and answers, which is why visitors to our house can’t lay their hands easily on staples like pens, liquid soap, scissors, tape, and (for awhile) toilet paper.

Their two greatest Trouble Achievements are easily recollected — indeed, I will probably never forget them. The first was the nap-time installation of Poopfest (they were still in diapers,) the horrifying details of which I will leave to your imagination. The second was another nap-time installation I will call Rash-Salve I, which involved an industrial-size tub of Balmex, a jumbo bottle of baby powder, and every reachable surface in their room and on their persons. I was so stunned by the sheer magnitude of the mess that I beat a hasty retreat and called my sister-in-law to talk me down before I Went Back In. That marked the official end of naptime.

I have two older girls, who at the twins’ age were the sort of friendly, compliant children who allowed me to sneer at folks whose kids were pitching tantrums in Wal-Mart or being escorted around on leashes, which I viewed as borderline child abuse. The Twins and their Trouble have given me the gift of a complete re-evaluation of my assumptions about parenting, along with a higher degree of tolerance for chaos, plans gone awry, and human foibles. It has taken me almost 40 years to relinquish my control-freak persona and accept the bumper-sticker truism that Shit Happens, in my house on a daily basis.

So I am crossing the days off on my calendar until the twins start pre-school in the fall. I have carefully selected a nurturing, stimulating environment staffed by seasoned educators who’ve seen enough rough road to be prepared for Hecate and Buckethead. These women have eyes in the backs of their heads, and the perimeter seems secure, which is more than I can say for our house. In fact, Shit is Happening right now. In the time it’s taken me to write this the twins have dumped all their books on the floor, scribbled on the wall with a contraband crayon (probably smuggled illicitly in a Pull-Up) and tugged all the potty wipes out of the container, just for grins. They are outside, rearranging the landscaping, and I suppose I will get a cup of coffee and go join them.

Now, the Candy:

Dorissima Goldmund — tonka beans, vanilla, iris root, rose, powdery carnation, benzoin, sandalwood, soft musk, balsam notes, Peru balsam, allspice. Ina, I am really trying with this one. I know, everyone is wild for this, and I went back and re-read your post and Marlen’s review on Now Smell This, and all I am thinking is, skin chemistry? It is difficult to believe this is what you and Marlen are raving about as a comfort scent and/or infatuating. I think it’s the combination of iris and tonka (or maybe just the benzoin?) doing something very mercurochrome-ish on me. It is medicinal to the point of smelling like an antibacterial agent, and nothing else. How sad is that?

Divine by Divine. This one is breaking my heart. Notes: peach, coriander, gardenia, Indian tuberose, May rose, oak moss, musk, vanilla, spice. Not a timid fragrance, with the gardenia/tuberose sillage ranking somewhere between Fracas and Carnal Flower. The peach is there but not overt, and there’s a wicked sashay of animalic skank running around naked in the middle, although it gets dressed and leaves during the drydown. With those top notes you’d think it would be insanely cloying, but that oakmoss base holds it together. Ina, I Kneel At Your Feet. Logic says this white-floral bomb should fall outside my general parameters of adoration, but adore it I must. You know what I want to layer this with? DK Wenge. Or Montale Jasmin Full. Do you think my arm would run off, looking for a more exciting life? Only complaint: on a scale of 1 to 10 in the Fragrance Olympics, the first five minutes of this are a perfect 10. But then it amps itself down to maybe an 8.5 and I’m disappointed. Which seems so unfair and churlish of me, given the opening; I really need to try this in an atomizer, in cooler weather.

Parfumerie Generale Ilang Ivohibe — Pierre, mon ami, my French is pretty much nonexistent. I am perpetually mixing up words like eau and au. But this is far, far worse. I have to study the label like it’s Sanskrit. But I forgive you and give you, mwah! mwah! the cheeky French kiss, because your fragrances are so unlike anything else I have ever smelled. No, I do not love them all. But I do love Ilang Ivohibe, in spite of its name. Madagascan ylang-ylang, Californian orange and Egyptian jasmine. Here, let me post the translation from www.ausliebezumduft.de: “Parfumerie of generals – Ilang Ivohibe EDT is a florale smell creation with a Zitrusakkord. Romantically, feminine and exotically fruchtig. White blooms form the heart note and with a vanilla note on the basis are softly fitted with springs.” I’m not so sure about the exotic fruchtig, getting mostly zitrusakkord and the strange green clang of ylang, sans the fitted springs. I think the reviews have been meh on this, but I am smitten — it’s not anywhere as sweet as you’d think, given the notes — much greener and denser, and a little peculiar, in a very good PG way.

PG Grand Siecle — this is a classic cologne, and there is nothing unconventional about it, so if that holds no appeal, don’t bother. For those of us who love classic cologne, however — from 4711 to Guerlain du Coq — another option is always welcome. Lovely as it is, for the money (I assume it’s priced the same as the rest of the PG line) I’d pick something else. So far, what I’d pick would probably be Iris Taizo, Ilang, or …

PG Hyperessence Matale. Citrus, jasmine, black Matale tea, cedar leaves, musk, pepper. Everyone else loved the Harmatan Noir, which smells like sweet, soapy hell on me. This, on the other hand, is a glorious woody tea — with the faint smoky-tarry note I love so much in lapsang. The really cool part is that it pings back and forth between that somewhat peppery, very fine-smelling lapsang and something like Dior Cologne Blanche holding a chainsaw. The Matale refers to tea rather than metal, but I’m sorry, I smell what I smell — it has a sharp edge that reminds me in the best possible way of that compelling wet-metal-fence note in En Passant. I get essentially no jasmine, which is fine, because the rest of it is so captivating.

A note here: Having smelled most of the second chapter of PG fragrances, I am joining Patty’s Impressed as All Hell club regarding the Parfumerie Generale line. Even the ones I don’t like are very interesting. In my own personal, eccentric mental filing system I have placed them somewhere between L’Artisan and Serge Lutens. They are richer, more complex, and stronger than L’Artisan (and I mean no disrespect to L’Artisan, which contains some of my favorite scents.) They are not quite so dense as, and less challenging than, Serge Lutens (and I mean no disrespect to SL, either.) To me they combine L’Artisan’s overall accessibility with Serge Lutens’ excellent lasting power, and that is no small feat.

image: Hecate in her favorite hat. Look at her. Isn’t she adorable? Cute as a button! Do you know what she is thinking? She is thinking, tonight I’m going to get up at 3:47 a.m., turn on the overhead light and wake my brother up by singing the ABC song really LOUD until mommy staggers down the hall and tells me to knock it off…

March

I have this post all ready to go, but — okay, has anyone noticed the nose-picking dude on the right frame area of our blog? The Decant City ad? I keep trying to decide if it’s some sort of elaborate practical joke. If the senior-level management of this highly regarded blog weren’t in the Outer Banks right now, doing Jell-O shots off her husband’s belly and blowing off her emails, I’d consult her. Check it out — you can buy a decant of Chupa Chups. And a whole ton of other bizarre stuff. What do you think? Real? Or some sort of post-ironic joke I’m too dumb to get? Check out the description of Delirivm — I mean, that has to be a joke, right? Right? No, seriously, what do you think? Also that image is starting to freak me out a little, along with the yellow snow quote.

Anyway, the mantle of Trashy Friday has fallen on me, and I don´t watch TV. Well, I watch a little. I’m pretty up to date on all the episodes of Bob the Builder and Higglytown Heroes. And I can offer you a link to the excellent Boohbah interactive — make them dance! They change colors! You can play weird, pointless games with them … hey, do you think this show’s creators spent a little too much time going to raves?

… but I digress. You know how you´re googling around, looking for that particular picture of Kevin Federline that gives you those delicious heebie-jeebies, and you click through some blog you´ve never seen before, and then you click on a link to another blog, and then you´re reading something really funny and/or weird, and you can´t even remember how you got there?

No?

Well, first there´s that picture of K-Fed. Here it is.

I have to google it periodically and look at it, for no good reason, really, other than my own freaky amusement. (And now you´re looking at it! Hah hah! Eyeworm! You´re infected!) I mean à¢â‚¬¦ what is that? Is it the braids? The shades? The overall Skeeve Factor that´s probably burning a hole in your retinas right now? I just Cannot. Get. Enough. Of that picture. I want to give Britney a hug and say, hon, look at you — you’re, what, 22?! You can pop that new baby out and get your cute figure back in nothing flat! So do yourself a big ol’ favor and Call Your Lawyers. Don’t worry, you and Pimp Daddy can work something out, just get out the checkbook. I bet he already has a number in mind. Just, please, for the love of all that’s good and holy, change the locks and stop having sex with that loser! That K-Fed photo is like looking at a train wreck.

Or Jerusalem crickets. Lord, I love those crickets! They look like big-eyed, bald-headed, hand-sized flesh-eating alien babies, only uglier! I remember the day Number One Daughter, still a toddler, brought me one of those babies cradled in the plastic shovel, straight from her sandbox, and showed it to me proudly — look, mommy, one of Satan´s Minions! Of course, I was still heavy into my cool-Santa-Fe-earth-mommy phase, so I said something like, wow! That´s really interesting! Meanwhile I´m thinking, oh à¢â‚¬¦ my à¢â‚¬¦ God — getthatthingawaaaaaaaaayyyyfrommerightNOW! I dropped Satan´s baby into a baggie (it was dead) and took it to the local ag extension office, where they ID´d it for me. The locals called them Children of the Earth (in Spanish), which sounds so much more mellifluous than what I was calling themà¢â‚¬¦

But I digress. Again. Here´s a link to a post about tearing up those credit card applications that I´m going to share it with you. I guess I found it particularly interesting because we get, like, five of these a day à¢â‚¬” enough so that all three girls have toy wallets full of those fake Platinum Cards. After I read this we went out and bought a shredder.

Anyway, happy Friday! Remember, don´t touch the crickets! They bite! Oh, the winner of L’Artisan is Carol; I’ll grab your email address from the dashboard and contact you for your address, since Patty’s out of town…

March

 

 I’m not really writing this on vacation, I’m writing this before I leave.  Did I fool you? 

This is one of those vacations with a bunch of other friends. We rented a huge mansion-type house with six or seven bedrooms, a swimming pool, game room, and 100 yards from the ocean.  Since we did this the first time a few years back, it has become our summer vacation staple.  Nothing is better than spending seven days with sun/water/friends/booze, not necessarily in that order.  I highly recommend it.

While I was packing for vacation and picking out my scents to take with, I wondered, if I were granted two perfumes in the whole world that I could protect forever and make sure it was always available, never subject to discontinuation, which two would it be?  What I decided is it wouldn’t necessarily be my two favorite perfumes, but two that I thought should always be in this world to sniff.

Do I have an answer yet? No, I don’t, but I’m going to contemplate that on the beach with a rum punch in my hand and a good book, and I’ll have an answer when I come back. Which two perfumes do you think should always be in this world and never discontinued?

Patty

For those of you who´ve been following along, recently (in a fit of madness) I constructed for Marina of Perfume-Smellin´ Things three samples of her potential Holy Grail fragrance, with varying degrees of success. Marina has since invited me to propose my own Holy Grail, for her construction. While I do not have the poetry of Marina or Katie, I am going to take her up on her offer.

Today´s post is devoted to her assignment, followed by a dip into the Candy box and a giveaway.

What I am looking for is something I will call The Golden Pearl. Mitsouko is a pearl to me à¢â‚¬” it is luminous, it is haunting. But it is a baroque pearl à¢â‚¬” it is not something I wear easily, or often, as much as I love it. Guerlain´s Plus Que Jamais is a different pearl à¢â‚¬” ladylike on me, but not anywhere near enough of whatever it is I´m looking for. The two scents that probably come closest in terms of golden luminosity are Hermes´ 24, Faubourg and Jil Sander No. 4. But Faubourg, a supremely elegant scent, lacks the comfort and warmth I am looking for. Jil Sander I am completely in love with but, while it has the comfort and warmth, it is missing the depth and resonance of The Golden Pearl. My recent discovery, Houbigant Apercu, is perfect on its own, but it is too much itself, and not enough me, to be the Golden Pearl.

I have a little bottle of Frankincense essential oil. I am not a big layer-er of fragrances, but occasionally I try dabbing on a drop or two of that oil with one of my florientals, looking for that incense-y base. I am looking for a warm incense, that resinous quality, rather than, say, the cold austerity of Armani´s Bois d´Encens. But all I wind up with is X plus the frankincense, which is always too much. In winter I wear Diptyque´s profoundly strange and incense-y L´Eau Trois, which has the warmth I am looking for, but none of the floral aspect. I have also layered Ines de la Fressange´s signature fragrance with Passage d´Enfer with some success. But it is too sweet and summery and delicate to be The Golden Pearl.

So. I guess I am looking for a rotund floriental with a stronger, more interesting base? Incense. Some skank, possibly. Perhaps leather. Perhaps (I quake writing this) even some amber, which in large doses nauseates me the way big blasts of vanilla make me queasy, but I see amber in a small dose as perhaps complementing the resinous quality of incense.

I am not looking for a gourmand note. No coffee, chocolate, vanilla (please, no vanilla!) And I would like it to be wearable à¢â‚¬” on the Fragrance Challenge index, if Mitsouko is a 10, and Jil Sander No. 4 is a 5, then I´m looking for a 7. I want it to be alluring but not so strange. Dark, but not so fickle. Rich, but not cloying.

Okay, Marina. That´s the best I can do. Let me know if you have any questions.

Moving on to the Candy:

Yatagan by Caron: notes are Lavender, Wormwood, Petitgrain, Artemisia, Geranium, Pine Needles, Vetiver, Patchouli, Leather, Castoreum, Styrax (basenotes.net) Bloglifting directly from Colombina the Terrible´s excellent review: à¢â‚¬Å“Named after a Turkish saber with a curved blade, Yatagan smells of grass, moss, earth, leather and hot, hungry, cruel bodies.à¢â‚¬? Ha! I, March the Maleficent, decree: à¢â‚¬Å“Bring me my whip and cower before me, sultry peasant boys! Tonight we ride for the far hills, where the drinking of fermented beverages and carousing will commence!à¢â‚¬? Shortly after putting this on I ran upstairs and pounced on the Big Cheese. What you do after smelling it is your lookout, but don´t say I didn´t warn you. Colombina, how can I repay you for this one?

à¢â‚¬¦ where was I? Oh, yeah. Candy. How about à¢â‚¬¦ this one? Paestum Rose by Eau d´Italie. I am not a lover of rose soliflores, preferring that they share the stage with some other note, like Rosine´s sea-salt Ecume. Here, cribbing from Aedes: à¢â‚¬Å“The silky petals of rose are touched with the sweetness of myrrh and the resinous warmth of black pepper, while the transparent floral nuances of osmanthus and peony contrast with the sensual darkness of cedar and wenge woods…à¢â‚¬? I can´t see how I´m going to top that, so I´ll just add that on me it´s a dark rose, spicy rather than sweet (the pepper, probably), balanced beautifully by the warm, resinous smell of myrrh and wenge. The drydown is particularly lovely. If you love rose scents, you should try this. If you don´t love rose scents, you should try this. Here’s another review over on Aromascope, after which you may be making an unsniffed purchase.

YSL Nu à¢â‚¬” created by Tom Ford, 2001. Clearly I had better get my act together and smell every thing Basenotes lists under YSL, because I keep falling for their more obscure gems like Yvresse, Vice Versa and now this. Notes: bergamot, white orchid, black pepper, incense, woody notes, spicy notes, vetiver (basenotes.net) It´s gorgeous à¢â‚¬” the sharp, sweet ping of the orchid in the opening, followed by the perfect balance of woods, spice and incense, with the floral playing a very minor role after 10 minutes à¢â‚¬” a man could wear this easily. All you incense addicts à¢â‚¬” smell this.

Today´s sample giveaway: L´Artisan! They´re reproducing in a dark corner of the candy box. No, I don´t know which fragrances, but they´re L´Artisan, so there´s not a dud in the bunch. If you want some new, carded samples, leave a comment below saying so and I´ll do a drawing.

A note on the painting: Gustav Klimt’s sublime Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, the center of a long legal fight between the Austrian government and her heirs, from whom the painting had been stolen by the Nazis. The heirs won the court battle, and the painting was sold in June for $183 million, the highest recorded price ever paid for a painting. It was bought by cosmetics king Robert Lauder, and if we’re very, very lucky, it will hang in Lauder’s Neue Galerie in Manhattan. image: abc.net

March

Makeup counters can be scary places.  Full of products without visible price tags.  Lots of colors, each one in matte, gloss, shine. You look at your face and don’t know where to start, what looks good.

Tentatively you approach one of the immacutely made-up ladies behind the counter to get advice and help.  She asks you if you have a minute for her to do your face. You look at your watch, think what the hell, and say yes.  Before you know it, she has you sat down in a chair and is working her magic on your face, asking you some questions. You protest a couple of the colors because you know they don’t look good on you, but she forges ahead.  15 minutes later, she beams smugly, says you look just gorgeous, gives you a mirror and says, “What do you think?”

You look like Bozo the Hooker. 

Not wanting to hurt her feelings, you buy a few of the recommended products, take them home, trying to assure yourself that you can apply them better so it will be okay… really.  Off you go one morning with your new foundation, look in the rearview mirror on your way to work (the only good testing place for eyebrow pluckage prowess and foundation matching) and see the need to call in a helicoptor rescue squad to save your face from visible foundation line.  You promptly throw the whole kit and kaboodle in your drawer when you get home and never wear them again. I’ve been there many times. Years ago, I used to be shy and got bossed around by salespeople. It’s not certain when that changed, but over the last two decades, I’ve become known as ”The Bitch.”  My friends and family ask me to make phone calls for them to obstinate businesses who aren’t playing fair with them. The key phrase in dealing with difficult people is “Listen, this is what I need you to do.” Use that whenever that salesperson is getting pushy with you, it is a big ole Stop Sign and reverses the pushing process. Needless to say, my experiences at the makeup counters are all positive now because I do not put up with crap products being pushed on me. It’s my money, I worked hard for it, and I’m willing to part with large chunks of it for the right thing, but I won’t spend a dime on something that won’t work for me. One well-placed scowl at the SA when she is pushing product, followed by a gracious smile when she reverses course and asks you what you’re thinking might work, usually does the trick.  Never be afraid to just walk away. It’s hard to do the first time, but gets easier with practice.  The makeup Counter is not a place where you want to practice seeing through a glass darkly.

 

 How do you become a Product Girl at the makeup counter?  I’m going to do a series of makeup tips in different areas to help those who are a little skeered by those ladies behind the counter so you can get what you want or at least know what to ask for.   

 How do you become a Product Girl at the makeup counter?  I’m going to do a series of makeup tips in different areas to help those who are a little skeered by those ladies behind the counter so you can get what you want or at least know what to ask for.   

We’ll start with the Rules for Buying Foundation:

• Don’t try and save money here. You can get the cheap eyeshadows and eyeliners and other things, but foundation is the one thing that needs to be right, if you’re going to bother wearing it.  The difference in quality between a $10 foundation and a $45 foundation is huge, and $35 is just not a big deal in the big scheme of things.  I have heard the claim they are the same, and, I’m sorry, but I’ve slapped on the Cover Girl and then put on my favorite obscenely expensive foundation, and there is no comparison — one looks cheap and tacky on me (not saying people with great skin can’t pull off any foundation, but they probably are young or really don’t need foundation to begin with so anything looks good), and the other makes my aging skin glow.  There are some great foundations out there, my favorite is the Giorgio Armani Luminous Silk foundation. You can never go wrong with this one, it sticks to you and comes in great shades that melt into your face and give a pretty glow to any skin. Cle de peau and Chanel make great foundations too. There are other good ones in several lines, these are just the ones I am most familiar with, having tried probably 50 foundations over the last ten years and settled on  the GA as the best I’ve tried.
• Use a foundation brush (Giorgio Armani has a great one, as does Prescriptives).  There is a big difference in how your foundation looks with the proper application. Get two brushes and wash them after each use. Tip — eBay has the Armani foundation brush for cheap, and I’m fairly certain they are fakes, but they are great fakes and work as well as the geniune article.
• Get a sample of the foundation to take home and try in a couple of shades. Do not EVER buy right there in the store. If they don’t have a sample or claim they can’t make one up, go to the next counter. The lighting at department store counters is crappy, and you have to do the rearview mirror test before you buy. This will tell you if your foundation matches or not.  Pluck your eyebrows while you’re checking the foundation. I may be the only person in the world that has my trusty Tweezermans in the glove box in the car.
• If you tan in the summer, change your foundation color to a shade or two darker or switch to just a tinted lotion or tinted primer during the summer months.  Just please don’t go out with a lighter face than your body…. yuk!!!!
• Apply a moisturizer first, then a foundation primer.  Smashbox primer and La Prairie Cellular Treatment Rose Illusion are both good.  Primers get your face ready for foundation and keep it from flaking.
• Don’t let an SA or MA bully you into buying anything just on her opinion. You’re the one that has to wear this, and it’s your hard-earned money.
• If you have beautifuly, glowy, even skin, um… what are you reading this for?  Please don’t muck up great skin with foundation.  Foundation is for us with imperfect skin. 

Patty