It’s been a long while since we did Trashy Friday, and since I seem to manage about one episode of Nawt every other week, and it’s summer, and I just can’t seem to get serious about anything, let’s comb through our trashy culture this week and see what’s new.

Amanda Lepore is looking to get into beauty products — could a perfume be around the corner. All my dreams of smelling like botox, silicone and rubber could come true!

Britney may have served her mom with a restraining order.

Paris is out of jail, has gotten religion, but can’t pick a favorite bible verse, and vows to reform her life.  Do you believe her?  Do you care?

Do we think Lindsay’s rehab is taking this time? Given that she’s extending her stay in rehab… maybe?  And is it really possible that she may get the starring role as Paris Hilton on a movie of Paris’ life?  Isn’t Paris like 22?  Can you even have lived enough to have a movie made on your life?  With Britney doing the soundtrack to the movie… *rolls eyes* 

You’re getting some Christian Bale eye candy just because… he’s gorgeous, even when no, especially when he’s all scruffy.  I never loved Batman until he slipped into the rubber suit.

Favorite self-tanners this year.  On the more inexpensive side, you cannot beat L’Oreal Sublime Glow daily moisturizer. Goes on great, has a nice color, not orange, blends easily, doesn’t turn into a mess with multiple applications, which was the problem I ran into with the Jergens one.  The more expensive favorite is Lancome Flash Bronzer glow “n Wear.  It has more of a tint in it, so you get an immediate nice tan bronzey color, but you have to be a little more careful on application to make sure it blends and covers.  Both have a pretty glow to them.  Favorite face bronzer is the Lancome Flash Bronzer, the companion to the Flash Bronzer Glow ‘N Wear.

My favorite reality guilty pleasure of the summer, besides the upcoming Big brother, is PirateMaster.  I hate that show, honest, it’s a train wreck with almost no likable characters, but every week I’m back watching Those Pirate Wannabes make asses out of themselves.  Best reality so far this summer is So You Think You Can Dance. Great dancers this year, it’s hard to pick less than five favorites. But if they do not toss Cedric this week, then they need new judges. Lovely young man with a good dance skill, but this contest does not fit his kind of dancing at all.

Chef shows — I have to watch both Top Chef and Hell’s Kitchen. Gordon Ramsey makes them cry, and Top Chef actually has people who can cook, so I’m less guilty watching that Top Chef, but they both amuse me mightily for different reasons.  Micah leaving on Top Chef was beyond welcome. What a whiney cook.   She would go on and on about missing her daughter when she was doing poorly and was silent on that when things were going good.  There IS no crying or whining in cooking.  Criminy!

Finally got ’round to reading the last Harry Potter book, the Half-Blood Prince. Yes, I know, I’m slow, but I needed to get it done before the new movie and book comes out in July.

Okay, admit it, you missed Trashy Friday, the post you can miss… but why when it takes so little brain power to read? Have a great weekend! 

Patty

Hey, everybody! Theoretically I am in Bangkok today, and if I can figure out what time it is, and what day it is, I’ll be responding to comments.

We got a question recently about layering fragrances — what are some of our favorite scent combinations? Any recommendations on approach? Etc.

I think Lee and I both responded that we tend to layer scents by accident (this is what happens when you sample six or more fragrances a day). I don’t layer much on purpose. But I know a lot of you do, and over the course of the last year you’ve left many, many individual comments about layering on different posts.

Today I’m inviting you to list your favorite layering combinations of fragrances, so they’ll all be in one place, as well as any advice you have on the topic. And any questions — you all are great at carrying on conversational threads!

My two cents (scents? har):

Fendi Theorema layered with Donna Karan Chaos. Off the top of my head, this is the only layering combo I can think of that I do fairly regularly (albeit in winter.) Regular readers know that Theorema and Chaos are two of my favorite fragrances. Theorema’s base has a Chaos-like note, and the two of them together is every bit as stunning as they are individually.

CB Musk Reinvention with your favorite jasmine. The skank of CB Musk + the indoles of jasmine = nirvana. Would probably work great with any big white floral fragrance.

All-purpose fragrance improver — if I’m bored, if it’s insipid, if it’s fading, if it needs more base — a spritz of L’Artisan’s Passage d’Enfer fixes many, many fragrances.

Okay — your turn!

About the photos: remember awhile back I wrote about my marathon wrestling match to get the Summer Wine climbing roses I’d planted trellised to the back of the house before they ate the children and the dog? Here’s what they look like this summer; it’s hard to tell from the photo but the top of the roses are about 12 feet off the ground. That’s my lavender just getting ready to bloom under the roses, and my oenothera (evening primrose) blooming pink all across the bottom. Not bad for a three year-old flower bed, eh?

March

There’s a Miller Harris winner to receive the vials of all twenty scents and purty box. Name at the end. First, on with business.

You know something – I’ve been unfair to Miller Harris and given them an inappropriate amount of short shrift (can one do such a thing?), probably because I couldn’t look beyond the sharp ‘perfumeyness’ of the first few I ever sniffed. As my nose has matured, I’ve realised that there is a quality to some chypres and a few aldehydic fragrances that I classify as ‘perfumey’ and haven’t, at least until recently, wished to go any deeper. Call it the MUA grandma syndrome, if you wish. There’s been, for me at least, too big an area to explore elsewhere. But now, I’ve been sated temporarily in exploring the outer fringes of the niche world and perhaps should give myself a few lessons in back-to-basics. This doesn’t mean I’ll ever learn to love Eau de Soir or Baghari though.

On with the Miller Harrises. Twenty scents – too many to hold in your head, too many to be fair with in your appraisal. Tough luck, buddy. In no particular order (with the binomial MH scent description in parentheses):

Tangerine Vert (gentle citrus) – like so few fragrances, matches its name exactly in the first five minutes, then becomes an orange blossom whine and then possibly an invisible musk. Fleeting as a wink from a stranger. And less exciting.

Jasmin Vert (elegant floral) – jasmine weaves in and out of a broad brushstroke floral bouquet, with no poop nearby, unfortunately. Very pretty.

l’air de rien (sensual oriental) – so innocuous on paper, like its ee cummings styled name; on skin, you become sweet, salty, post-coital.

Fleur Oriental (sensual floral) – loud as a teenager-in-tantrums before, thirty minutes in, becoming a powdered caress from a favourite aunt. I know that’s an inappropriate image – somehow it feels right. Sorry. Blame l’air de rien.

Feuilles de Tabac (rich woods) – I thought I loved this. I was wrong. A spicy yet clean sweetness tempers the tobacco and makes it, in the end, too pale, too mild for me. I like a bit of rough. I’ll go for full on Vintage Tabarome or the elegant dominatrix Tabac Blond before this wan wonder.

Terre de Bois (woody classic) – my latest favourite. Opens with the crispness of verbena before developing a straightforward but still novel cologne quality, without losing a delightful woody/soapy focus. It smells like an old-school French fragrance for men, reformulated to make it better. I’d love a bottle for autumn please.

Geranium Bourbon (elegant floral) – I imagine this will be lovely commenter Elle’s nightmare fragrance, because it does smell very much like high quality Bourbon geranium oil, fancied up a lot. Multi-faceted in its rosy sparkle, it has an almost air freshener quality to it and to my mind would work best as a luxurious bath oil or candle.

Terre d’Hiris (light chypre) – an à¼ber-woman scent. She means business. High-pitched, clipcloppy heels. No messing. A ‘perfumey’ perfume for the first ten minutes, before becoming more raspy and interesting. But not how I like my iris buttered.

Coeur d’à‰té (innocent floral) – what’s innocent about a big banana, cos that’s where this starts off. However, aside from that, this is a light, playful, clean and remarkably inoffensive fruity floral, though more floral and less fruit over time.

Cuir d’Oranger (luxurious leather) – with that name, it sounds like it should be like Lutens’s Cuir Mauresque, in style, execution and development. But it isn’t, much. It’s very neroli to start with (too much for this occasional blossomphobe), but then, as it transforms into a mossy madam, invitingly slapping her leathery britches, there’s a magic to its ugly-beautifulness. Of all MH’s limited editions, this one strikes me as the finest. I admire it very much; I think I could love it. Whether it could replace the aforementioned Serge in my heart though…

En Sens de Bois (sensual wood) – less sensual, more anti-social. A quiet, reflective scent of smoke and faded greenery. A bonfire melds its final embers with the damp autumnal mists. A Keatsian scent poem where grey replaces sepia.

Piment des Baies (fresh spicy) – I should love this and in fact with every test I’ve wanted to sniff it more and more and more… It’s a glutton’s fragrance with its nutmeggy roundness; rich, but somehow clear and clean. However, there’s a little something in there – I can’t define it – that brings out the Quease Factor in me. Something too delicious like the final slice of cake that hurts, even as you scoff it? And, though my brain says, ‘Oh please mister, we want more’ (it’s the little people living there who talk in a chorus of pleading approval), my guts roll and boil and say, ‘We’re shutting you down!’

Coeur de Fleur (delicate floral) – how nice to rhyme, especially in French. The heart of this floral feat is supposedly sweet pea, a flower I know very well. But I get lots of rose withsome fruity sweetness underneath. A rounded perfume, nonetheless, without the rose’s sometimes acid yelp.

Vetiver Bourbon (classic vetiver) – Vetiver Extraordinaire is this chap’s country cousin, or perhaps how he appears when he’s off Bunburying. Back in the city, he’s polished his shoes, put on his fancypants and donned a cravat to match his smoking jacket. I’m not sure I can ‘do’ the earthy side of vetiver that well, but if you like it, this sophisticated take on the genre is excellently rendered.

Figue Amere (salty figs) – muted fig leaves made savoury and nutty by salt. I only have room for one fig in my heart, and the use of cedar and coconut in Giacobetti’s inspired Philosykos violently elbows this more muted green to one side.

Fleurs de Sel (sensual earthy) – Miss C. Sage goes to visit holistic uncle Sam Salt at the seaside for some shoulder salve.

Eau de Vert (green cologne) – herbal, truly delightful, but wildly expensive (£95) for a fleeting cologne. This starts vibrantly green in an artemisia style before becoming a musky mossy whisper of a scent.

Fleur du Matin (green fresh floral – the binomial system of classification has collapsed – this must be a cultivar… pathetic horticultural joke: apologies) – Fresh (a favoured word amongst perfume copywriters and the less nasally experienced, but here, true), crisp, sparkling. Like a l’Eau de l’Artisan where honeysuckle replaces grass.

Citron Citron (vibrant citrus) – actually quite sweet for a few minutes before developing a unpindownable hesperidic accord – lime and lemon and orange all at once. Grapefruit is generally my favourite citrus scent note, and this doesn’t have that bitter edge that I need in such a fragrance. Still, it’s high quality and long-lasting, whilst not holding my interest. A great summer easywear scent, like jogging pants and a T-shirt.

Noix de Tubéreuse (exotic tuberose) – winner alert! Bryan, have you smelled this? Lyn Harris makes great claims for its butteriness, but boy, is she right. So rich, rounded and creamy it seems edible. Sensual by default. Gourmand raunch (but it’s by no means a foodie scent). Probably too much for summer, too much for more than a couple of drops, but this beauty has given me the metaphorical horn. And they say men don’t like tuberose scents. Hubba hubba…

In summary, these aren’t the shrill, sharp old school terrors I associate with my primary school teacher (so fierce, she’d melt your face if she stared at you), but a varied and interesting range of worthy and sometimes exciting perfumes. And although the line isn’t exactly what I normally look for in scent, there are two bottleworthy numbers here (i.e. worth parting with my rapidly decreasing perfume cash for): Terre de Bois for me, and Noix de Tubéreuse for a woman with suitably buttery cleavage. Yoohoo! Chaya! I want to spray between your boobiedoos…

Ahem. The winner of this collection of 2ml vials (which I now wish I was keeping) is Elve. Who says the early bird catches the worm? Elve, I’m mailing you!

Lee

But First! (Yes, it is almost Big Brother season and the ubiquitous Julie Chen “But First!” I fly my Freak Flag proudly on what a big fan I am of this show.  About one more week before it starts, yeah!!! )  The winner from the last drawing I had, which was a sample set of CB Greenbriar 1968, I am a Dandelion, Eternal Return; Memoire Liquide Fleur de Tabac, Vetiver, Liaison Secrete; Micallef Black Sea; Opium parfum, and I’ll probably throw in a sample of CB’s Wild Hunt and Arbor absolute. That post had the highest number of comments ever…. 190!!! Yoiks!  In celebration, let’s do two sample sets. See, it pays to comment, better chances.  Winners are… Chelsey and Gina!  Hit that contact Us button over there and shoot me your address. I’m still waiting on more Black Sea to show up this week.

So, those of you that are old hands, do you miss the days when you were a beginning perfumista?  Everything you smelled was new and fresh, especially as you ventured into the whole niche arena. It’s like discovering Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” or Leonard Cohen for the first time. Your nose, while young and inexperienced, is smelling something not like anything else.  Well, I do.   It’s not that there aren’t a lot of great old and new scents out there still to be discovered, but I sometimes think I rushed through smelling so many things so fast, I should have paused and taken longer to run through them, enjoyed them a little more, savored them.

For those that have gone through a lot of perfume sniffing, what would be your Five Year Plan for Perfumistas just starting out or just one suggestion for that plan?  I hope to collect these and hopefully make them into another post. What would you do differently if you were to start your perfume journey all over again?

How, I don’t do poetry or Haiku or other verse of any sort, so this is my summary of the rest of the Bruno Acamporas in short, nonsensical, random nonverse — pretty much how I write all the time, but abbreviated:

Sballo — Hay, you sage-covered bale, come sit next to me and waft…. :::sniiiiifff::::

Seplasia — Salty flowers, fresh and green; see my wallet scream? 

Jasmin — Indolic and plastic with rubber feet standing in Blvgari Black and SMN Nostalgia, but without their grace. Age makes her beautiful, but not unique

Blu — Blue tuberose, say it ain’t so!  Not smell so good.  (Bertha warming up on stage)… “meh, meh, meh, meh meeehhhhhh”

Prima T — Wow, pretty! And Deep! Probably not pretty enough to get that deep into my wallet

Iranzol – Twisted Barbie porn filmed in a field of Jasmine.  I think I kinda like it, but shhhhh, don’t tell anyone.

Maybe it’s me, but so many oils smell like plastic. Is that true for anyone else?  Perhaps you shouldn’t take my word for all of these.  Sballo and Seplasia, maybe Prima T might be worth having.  Don’t forget my question up above!

Patty

Today we´re on a plane, I hope – first to JFK and then on Royal Thai Air to Bangkok. So I won´t be responding. I´ve put my big girl pants on and here we go.

In Bangkok, I hope to:

Take a long-tail boat tour of the Chao Phraya River and the khlongs (side-river-streets);

Visit Siam Square and the Central World Plaza for shopping (Central is 5.9 million square feet vs. Mall of America´s 4.2 million), or maybe the Emporium, which looks the most upscale (perfume!);

See the most revered Buddha, the Emerald Buddha, in the Grand Palace;

Get together with Posse commenter Noy, who lives in Bangkok, to eat some durian and, if I don´t embarrass myself, some farty veggies and maybe even the extra farty veggies (I have noooo idea);

Not die in the heat;

Not lose any children (I´m planning to label them with a return address);

Not freak out in the crowds. Small duh moment looking online: wow, there are eight million people in Bangkok! Have I mentioned how crowds freak me out? How we leave our local mall by noon-ish before the hordes descend? I´m the gal who ducked out of the Vatican tour early, when we got to the Leonardo da Vinci room or whatever it was, when everyone was staring up ooohing and aahing and all I could do was breathe and think, get. Me. Out. Of. Here. So. I´ll have to be the adult. Wish me luck.

Today I´m blogging about L´Artisan L´Eau de Jatamansi. But I need to back up a few months and say how bitterly disappointed I was about their Dzongkha. It was supposed to be perfect for me; it was everything I wanted in a fragrance. I wanted to be the mysterious woman wearing Dzongkha; I wanted it to cleave to me; I lusted obscenely and insanely after the idea that I, whitebread girl extraordinaire, would be worthy of the magic of Bhutan. I wanted friends to ask me what that extraordinary fragrance was that I was wearing, so I could say, with a knowing smile, Dzongkha. Instead all I got was a muddy, spiced-orange mess. I took it as some personal failure on my part.

So my hopes were pretty low for Jatamansi, the Sanskrit name for Himalayan spikenard, with additional notes of grapefruit, cardamom, clary sage, bergamot, tea, Turkish rose, ylang ylang, patchouli, gaà¯ac, sandalwood, papyrus and incense. Cribbing from LuckyScent: “The essential oil (extracted from the rhizome by steam distillation) has been used for centuries in Indian Ayurvedic medicine. It is known for its uplifting effects, and for harmonising the emotions and favouring inner peace.”

Jatamansi starts off with a burst of grapefruit that comes and goes within minutes; following close behind are the herbaceous notes (I love clary sage, even though it´s obnoxious in my garden and reseeds vigorously), and at that point it´s a ringer for the sharp, almost medicinal smell you get when you walk into an Aveda store. The florals then appear, adding the merest hint of sweetness, and the incense kicks in, along with a perfect measure of woody spiciness, courtesy of the cardamom and gaiac. The drydown features a fair amount of sandalwood and manages to be strongly woody but not obnoxious in the heat. It´s refreshing but not insipid. It´s more dry in the style of, say, Terre d´Hermes, although it doesn´t smell like TdH at all.

I find it enchanting. It´s clearly a summer fragrance; it is easy to wear but not dull. I enjoy it both on its own merits and because it doesn´t remind me of anything else I own. It retains a herbal-medicinal quality that is refreshing and appealing and interesting, not some sort of Herbal-Essence generic greenness.

I´ve read complaints about its brief lasting power. It´s designed to be a refreshing spray, not a tenacious one, and whether that concept appeals is up to you. I will note that lasting power wasn´t an issue on me or the one person (a male friend) I tried it on; I got the better part of a day out of it, although it´s not wafting any huge sillage, which was fine with me, particularly in our hot, humid climate. On the other hand, most scents are famously tenacious on my skin. My one complaint (maybe yours, too) is that it comes in a whopping 250ml bottle for $145, which would, according to my calculations, last me several lifetimes. I´m sure the idea is that I can apply repeatedly and ayurvedically with abandon, but even so, 100ml would be more than enough. Enthusiasm for Jatamansi among the perfume nuts seems to be pretty muted. Maybe that´s a reaction to the bottle size, or maybe (like Serge Lutens´ Chypre Rouge) I´m part of a really small fan club. And that´s okay, too.

image: 100-foot-long reclining Buddha, Wat Pho, Bangkok; nighttime Bangkok, indodaman.com

March