Psst!!! For you Eau de Merveilles Parfum lovers, Imagination Perfumery has the 1 oz refill size back in stock for 99.99. Hurry, I may have got the last one. (Hangs head and looks guilty) Sorry, I went and looked again, and it now says sold out, I DID get the last one, but only because I’ve been bird-dogging that forever. But they do have the .25 refill for $55.99. If you’re wanting the deal of the century on that 1 oz, just keep checking back every day, they tend to get small amounts in, and they disappear fast. And if you’re any fan of Eau de Merveilles, the parfum is just a whole other level — richer, smoother, deeper.

Is it me, or does Coco smell a little bit like Youth Dew Amber Nude early on? I spritzed some in Saks and was driving to Petsmart after and kept smelling YDAN, until I figured out that it must be the Coco. They smell completely different in the drydown, but right in the first hour, they seemed similarish. So odd.

Speaking of Coco, I have to rat myself out. I thought I would try one of those great deals on eBay for Coco 3.4 oz EDP for $29.99 (stop laughing, I should know better, and I don’t know what came over me that allowed me to push the Buy it Now button). Got it, the bottom had a label that peeled off, the Coco label on the front was slightly crooked, plastic cap instead of glass, and it smelled a little like Coco, but my EDT was way stronger than this. Sent it back for a refund. She said they sent me a money order, which is weird since I paid with PayPal, but money all spends the same. The seller had 99.6% positive feedback, so I’m not worried. What shows up today under that item? User is no longer registered. Damnit, they are NARU!!!! Then I look more, and this seller has only been registered since the end of September of this year and somehow amassed 1400 feedbacks. Well, I”m sure they’ll open up shop under another name soon. So… Don’t Buy Chanel Perfumes on the Cheap on Ebay.

Sparkly mascara — Giorgio Armani has one. I tried it on in the store, and with their crappy lighting, couldn’t see sparkle one. Off to the truck, drove into light, and, voila! super-sparkling trashy eyelashes — love ‘em!!!! Now I need to call back down and have him send me some. I knew that would happen. You only see the sparkles after you leave the store if you don’t buy it. Also, the sparkly hairspray from Frederic Fekkai is awesome, too.

You know who has a great candle store on the internet? Candledelirium, that’s who. They have free shipping and gift wrapping for orders over $75. I sent in my order this afternoon and had a UPS tracking number within 10 minutes. Now, I have more candles than any sane person should have, but I could not resist the Voluspa Makassar Ebony and Peach candle or the Archipelago Havana candle (bergamot, tobacco leaf and Ylang Ylang) or the True Wheat candle, which sounds super-freaky –”organic garden notes with green tomato leaf, Bibb lettuce and Bradford cucumber, then layers them with grain and grass for an earthy clean blend” — but, hell, I never have been able to lay off the green tomato leaf and grain. I’m hoping for En Passant with tomato leaf tucked behind its ear instead of a sprig of lilac. Anyway, these guys have a great collection of candles. If they would just add Skeem candles to their list, I could shop here for everything candley.

Was I sleeping in class the day that everyone was told Annayake Miyako was a limited edition that was about gone before I bought it? It’s just a stunning incense scent, and I refuse to be addicted to it. It goes on with some freaky note that makes my nose wrinkle up, but in about 15 minutes, the drydown is this warm, enveloping incense smell that almost makes me cry. Hey, you, Miyako, go stand in the corner with the Gobin-Daudes.

Can we talk about Pilates? I finally broke down in my old age, because of the creaky joints and what feels like just a loss of strength, and signed up for private lessons with the most awesome Pilates instructor ever, Chris. I’ve tried these on my own over the years and got nowhere, just bored, didn’t keep it up, but there is a lot to be said by someone personally motivating you — in other words, making you do it. I’ve now switched over to the reformer classes, and I am just loving it, which is saying a lot for me. I got by forever with doing nothing. I grew up on a farm and had muscles layered on muscles, and they saved me a ton of pounds over 40 years because muscles burn so many more calories, so I ate pretty much whatever I wanted and dieted after babies and just didn’t worry about it too much, even if I had an extra 20 pounds, It wore well with that much muscle, and I was always just strong as an ox. Well, something about getting past 40 and then 45 really destroyed that safety net muscly calorie burner. Now I need to rebuild my muscle so I can go back to having ice cream every now and then. Ben & Jerry miss me and think I’m cheating on them. Pilates really does work, I can feel my old natural strength coming back with just a few classes.

Speaking of that, best diet book I’ve read is You on a Diet. I’ve got a ton of these books, especially since I hit 40, and this one is written by doctors, the ones that wrote You, the Owner’s Manual (also excellent), and they explain your body’s reaction to food and appetite and what triggers it in a way that isn’t dumbed down, but is completely understandable. Their explanation for why walking 30 minutes a day is vital really made a believer out of me, and I’ve been on my treadmill faithfully every day for a couple of weeks now (just one more week to make it a habit). Besides, I’m slowly working my way through the Battlestar Galactica series — one episode a day on my video iPod while on the treadmill (I’m flying my geeky freak flag proudly now). So when the Holidays are over, and you are looking at that extra 10 pounds, remember that book. I’m getting a headstart on y’all. I’m aiming to get back my much more youthful figger. Never aim too low.

Patty

In case you´ve been worried that, based on recent posts, I´ve grown a little too disciplined and refined in my fragrance sampling, don´t worry – I´ve been slutting around in the candy. In fact, the last week or two brought a shameful number of samples. Not that I´m ashamed …

Tocca – three fragrances: Touch, Stella, and Florence. I´m not a candle queen, and my research is a little … half-assed, but I gather that two of these EDPs (Stella and Florence) were based on Tocca candle scents. Stella is my favorite at the outset; notes are blood orange, aquatic notes, lily, orchid, freesia, sandalwood, musk. Stella makes me think of a creamsicle – but one from your favorite nouvelle cuisine spot, made by the dessert chef using a simple syrup of blood oranges and her grandmother´s closely-guarded recipe for vanilla gelato. I get nothing aquatic (thankfully). It´s a very nice fragrance, but I´m not sure I like it any more than the new one from L´Occitane, although the Tocca bottle has an appealing, old-fashioned charm. My drydown favorite ended up being Touch (Pomegranate, Peach flower, Tiare Flower, Jasmine, Gardenia, Egyptian Balsam, Sandalwood), with the tart opening giving way to the sweetness of the jasmine and gardenia. Looking at that list of notes doesn´t excite me, but somehow on me Touch ends up being better than it sounds – I get quite a bit of resin-y sandalwood in the drydown, which turns out to be a great foil for its white-floral headiness. Finally, Florence sounded interesting (Bergamot, Drenched Green Pear, Apple, Ivory Gardenia, Jasmine Petals, Tuberose, Iris, White Musk, Spiced Woods); I expected it to be rather green. I knew something was wrong as soon as it hit my skin; while it was morphing into a scrubber I did some further online research and discovered the following at La Crà¨me: “Florence is the sophisticated essence of the old European garden rose known as Centifolias or cabbage´ rose. Bred in the 16th and 17th centuries by the Dutch, Centifolias are noted for their highly fragrant blooms as well as their one hundred (cento) petals…” In other words, despite the notes listed, Florence is pretty much a rose fragrance. Ugh. Yes, I know that´s completely unfair and useless. You rose fans will have to do your own research.

Les Nez - I tackled L´Antimatiere on Monday. Today I´ll cover the other two. Let Me Play the Lion - I´m pretty sure I´m the last person to review this, and I want to say one word: cedar. Les Nez doesn´t publish their fragrance notes, and I know everyone else was over the moon on this one. But mostly what I smell is cedar, and I am sad to say that, like the princess with the pea, cedar is a note I don´t love in quantity. Any normal person would be entranced by its woods, its smoke and its warmth, like being wrapped inside a thick wool blanket. But instead I am left with the brutal B.O. of the locker room after a grueling session at my hot yoga studio. I am still mourning my loss.

Les Nez The Unicorn Spell starts off, as Legerdenez described so well, with a perfect green bean note, and then slowly unfolds into an early spring violet. Unicorn has been described with the words frosty, chilled, cold, dark; but to me it has the vegetal warmth of damp earth, like CB Black March. It also bears some resemblance to Annick Goutal Violette, a sharp, earthy spring violet which (for all I know) might also have been created by Doyen, since she´s done a lot of work for AG. Anyone who´s looking for a violet but can´t stand the candied aspect should consider Unicorn, my favorite of the line.

Next, we have Nemo by Cacharel, a men´s cologne with lots of positive feedback on the fragrance boards. It´s been discontinued; it was also recommended to me by a regular commenter who shares the same tastes (not naming any names, Dusan). Notes are: Hinoki, betel leaf, incense, cedarwood, cardamom. I bought it unsniffed when I ran across a discounted bottle at a local retailer and – hey, look – there´s cedarwood in there! And this is a fatal flaw (see Let Me Play the Lion above), morphing the fragrance from an Incense/Woods dream into the daft but terrifying nightmare of the Grim Reaper, post work-out and pre-shower, carrying one of those little bags of cedar shavings for your gerbil cage. On you, however, it probably smells lovely.

Finally, let us all bow our heads in prayer for Andy Tauer´s soul, which he must have sold to the Devil in exchange for the ability to create one gratifyingly quixotic scent after another. I spent two days sniffing the unnamed lavender mod he´s fiddling with right now, on the heels of the spectacular Orris. I like lavender – I grow it all over my garden – but I tend to shy away from wearing anything that smells strongly of lavender. It´s too much like a sachet or laundry spray, and lavender has been sadly overworked in that department. Anyhow, if Serge Lutens´ masterful Encens et Lavande captures the exquisite mournfulness of the blooms perfuming a gentle rain in the cathedral graveyard, Andy´s lavender renders a dusty country lane in the shimmering heat of midsummer, the shade of oak trees, and the smell of the lavender field over the next ancient hill. By the way, I accidentally layered it with Lonestar Memories (you know how these things happen), a mistake well worth repeating.

Today´s giveaway: My Loss, Your Gain! Yes, believe it or not, I have one barely-used, boxed bottle of Cacharel Nemo! If you like woodsy incense, and men´s fragrances (and cedar) don´t scare you – really, it is quite nice. If you´d like to be included in the drawing, say so in the comments below.

tocca bottles: sephora.com

March

WHEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For all you lovers of Caron’s Violette Precieuse, Diane at Caron NYC has ordered some bottles for April of next year. If you want your name on a bottle, dhaska@alesgroup.com can take care of that for you.

Patty

Before we get to perfumes, did you guys read this, Pammie Anderson and Kid Rock divorcing. So soon after Reese and Ryan, and considering they just got married in July, it’s disheartening — even for Hollywood. They are both so odd, they almost seemed perfect for each other. A shame.

Winter always turns my ever-forgetful mind to Caron. It’s inevitable. First snow hits in September or October — you snowbirds just stop that snickering, we don’t always get snow in September, and the sun is out the next day, and it’s not real snow like they get in Chicago or Buffalo — and my mind starts thinking… Caron. Doesn’t necessarily matter which one, though I have my favorites, but something about Caron whispers cozy and winter and warm hugs.

Since we’ve been organizing bottles splits recently, I’ve decided to devote one day a week through December to my great love, Caron, and especially the urn perfumes, though I do have a couple of others that I love as well. BTW, if anyone in Paris runs across the new Violette Precieuse at the French Sephora, please, please, please snag me a bottle or two, I will gladly pay for them and be your best friend forever and ever. I’ve even gone so far as to try and set up a French Sephora account, but they won’t let me set it up with a U.S. address.

I think they’re being a mite too particular on this rule. I’m about to say some especially bad words because it is so close (meaning online), but I can’t get it shipped to me. Tantalus’ fruit and water had nothing on this Sephoran evil torture.

Recently I’ve been contemplating what a horrible world it would be if the Caron urns passed out of it. Love them or hate them, they are unique and special in a world full of Curious by Britney Spears and Paris Hilton’s Whoress Heiress. Daltroff must be rolling over in his beautifully scented grave thinking of those two having their names on a bottle of perfume available at practically every 7-Eleven while the Caron urns are harder and harder to get. Too many perfumes are made now for the money, especially the celebrity scents, as we all keep lamenting. Made from cheaper and cheaper ingredients, more sugar and vanilla thrown in to cover up the cheapness of the raw materials, they remind me of the “low fat” things you find in the grocery store — they took out everything good to taste and good for you and put in more sugar to fool you into thinking it really wasn’t cardboard covered in sugar.

Many of Caron’s perfumes are not classically beautiful, though many were, but they held tight to that Caron base that is slightly revolting when you put it on instead of throwing some frilly top notes in the bottle so the casual sniffer would buy it on a top-note whim and be horrified when they found a very dark, randy narcissus in the bottle later. They didn’t sacrifice what they knew would sell well for what they knew to be a unique and beautiful perfume. Now, March can’t wear Caron, the base is just awful on her sweet-eating skin. I don’t know why. For me, the base is awful, for about ten minutes, and then it warms to my skin and turns any Caron into a thing of beauty.

Caron Parfum Sacre EDP — notes of Myrrh, musk, vanilla, rose, Jasmine, pepper, cinnamon and coriander. If this is not the ultimate snuggly blanket scent, I don’t know what is. This perfume is like the perfect Courtesan, nothing harsh, loud or jarring, but all smooth corners and soft embraces. What makes me so terribly sad is that the extrait of this is gone… hopefully not forever. If there is one thing Caron could bring back into existence — after Violette Precieuse in every 7-Eleven — that would be it. Victoria described the extrait here. I’ve never smelled it, but if it is more potent than the EDP, it is a smaller, less interesting world with the extrait gone. The best thing about Parfum Sacre is you can pick it up for a great price. This is the one I reach for when my head is all fuzzy and I’m stressed and I just need to feel like someone loves me.

Caron Coup de Fouet — The EDT of the much more potent, but quiet Poivre. Notes of red pepper, black pepper, carnation, ylang,ylang, opoponax, sandalwood, vetiver, oakmoss and giroflore. I have already waxed on eloquently about Coup de Fouet last year about this time (told you my Caron obsession is cyclical). It is a great introduction to the urns, and it is much lighter and frivolous, but no less lovely, than Poivre. This is the one that I spritz on with abandon and find it lingering on my coats and sweaters for weeks. If the whole urn thing has you nervous, especially the price, the Coup is a great place to dip your toes in.

Next week — Poivre and Nuit de Noel.

Patty

I joked with Marina that I was going to do a “review” of stuff like the canned air you clean your keyboard with, but I´d do it straight and see if anyone called me on the joke. Then I got bored with the whole concept, but at the core of my joke is a kernel of truth – in my visiting (and revisiting) of fragrances, inevitably I´ve run into a few things that, basically, (how do I put this delicately?) … I can´t smell at all.

I´m not talking about staying power issues – the summer colognes and florals (and teas) that are gone in 30 minutes, leaving you wondering whether reapplying is worth the effort. You can at least smell the stuff when you put it on. No, I´m talking about fragrances that for some/many/most people don´t smell like anything from the get-go. Confession: Narciso Rodriguez is like that for me – sometimes it´s strong (usually on other people); on a scent strip it´s often barely there. (An aside for you NR fans – the most stunning application I ever smelled was at a cocktail party, and the woman was wearing Narciso EDP over Nars Monoi oil. Yes, I asked. To do so I had to shove my way through the wall of men hovering around her; she smelled like something you´d definitely want a taste of.)

I find perfume anosmia fascinating. Christopher Brosius had Patty and I smell a vial when we were in New York, and we couldn´t smell a thing. It turned out to be labeled “wet sheep” (apparently it smells like wet wool) and is an example of gender-based anosmia – most men can smell it, most women can´t. There are all kinds of synthetic musks, and any number of people can´t smell particular ones among them. Anecdotal evidence on the fragrance boards suggests that a number of people can´t smell Narciso and SJP Lovely, while to some other people they´re fairly strong.

Anyway, all this was rolling around in my head at Art With Flowers when I smelled the new Miller et Bertaux, “Close Your Eyes and ….” Notes (courtesy of Luscious) are: Sicilian Lemon, Mandarin de Calabre, Fresh Jasmine Petals, Antique Roses from Turkey, Bois de Gaiac, Crisp Pear, Cinnamon Tree, Heliotrope, Almond. Yeah, whatever – here´s a hint of citrus, a breath of gaiac, but how could this smell so … tenuous? It´s a fragrance for someone who wants to wear fragrance but not smell it. Like Gertrude Stein´s fruitless search for her childhood home, there is no there there.

However, Close Your Eyes wears like Bandit next to my next nominee – Les Nez L’Antimatiere, which is the smell of having your leg pulled by Isabelle Doyen. It is the fragrance equivalent of The Emperor´s New Clothes; I don´t care how pedigreed it is, or that she’s been working on it for a decade – dude, you are naked. I kept my nose away from it for the first five minutes to avoid the alcohol somebody (Patty?) complained about. Then I thought, wow, it smells like a grape popsicle – weird! Only that turned out to be the popsicle stick sitting on the table next to me. I gave it two trials, two hours each, and a little aerobic activity to help it bloom. I get something – just the faintest whiff of wood shavings, and then something that smells like a cross between Escentric Molecule 01 and Chaos after 5 days – and that´s not a bad thing, is it? But I could soak my head in this (I practically did soak my head in this) hoping for one of those cool stealth perfume presences, but … nothing. I´ve read comments on other blogs describing the way this smelled, and some people are just wild for it, so I guess I´ll chalk it up to Wet Sheep.

Fragrance preferences also seem to be cultural to some degree. I´ve always heard (although I don´t know if it´s true) that Japanese women prefer much, much lighter scents and wouldn´t be caught dead in anything musky or animalic. Certainly Issey Miyake and the Kenzos support this argument, along with the mainstream Shiseidos (although some of their non-exports are weird and very strong.) Anyway, here in stuffy D.C., wafting big sillage is frowned upon unless you´re the wife of the French ambassador or some other exotic diplomatic bird. In my social circle, your fragrance should be chic and subtle, and should not convey the sentiment that you´d like to jump anyone’s husband. Which brings me to my favorite stealth fragrance – Armani Prive Cuir Amethyste. It´s pretty clear that I´m anosmic to some aspect of this – I sense it rather than smell it strongly, and I have to be careful not to overapply. I tend to wear it to cocktail parties. To the women in the room, it doesn´t seem to register as much of anything. But the men! Men looooove this stuff. The men are definitely getting the signal, so maybe this is another gender-anosmic scent. It´s just violet and leather, but it´s got some weird vibratory hum. I feel powerful when I wear it, as odd as that sounds. When I run out of my sample, I may have to suck it up and buy a bottle.

I´d nominate Hermes Eau des Merveilles as another example of something that is both subtle and powerful. It took me forever to come around to Merveilles. I fell for the rest of the line, one by one (Hiris! Sur le Nil!! Rocabar!!! etc.) but Merveilles was always that light, boring one. So there I was at Saks one day recently, and the SA wanted me to revisit Merveilles. I was about to say, meh, whatever, but she already had the bottle in her hand, so I stuck my arm out. And for once, I didn´t run off and bury it under some Dior in a fit of boredom five minutes later. Instead, I waited. After an hour, I was hooked. It´s here, it´s there, it´s everywhere – I can spray it all over myself, I can smell it the next day, it pleases me insanely. If an alchemist cooked up Seville orange marmalade, cumin and the ocean, with the musky smell of a sleeping child, you´d have Merveilles. There are people who dislike Merveilles; there is nothing sweet in its watery strangeness, and there´s an undercurrent of something a little like sweat. But I love to catch glimpses of it over the course of a day (it has surprising lasting powers) and it seems perfect to me right now. When I re-read Robin´s lovely review after falling for Merveilles, I found myself nodding in agreement.

Okay, now it´s your turn. What are your nominations for fragrances that smell like nothing? Which ones do you find to be stealth fragrances – deceptively light but a vital part of your wardrobe? Can you smell L’Antimatiere?

March