We are off to Kansas to play with the prairie dogs and rattlesnakes in the wheatfields while the tornadoes, wicked witches and cowboys gallivant past.

I’ve had the request to pack up a suitcase of perfumes for my sister and Kelly to sniff, and I have. It’s so difficult to know what to take, so I just start throwing things in, hoping they will be fun.

And a question, which if you answer in comments, you’ll get an entry into a drawing for… let’s see… a set of JAR samples, yes! And some other goodies, which will be surprises. I have my sillage monster favorites, like Clive Christian No. 1, 24, Faubourg, Jil Sander No. 4, Poivre, Or et Noir — those perfumes that just leave an oustanding wake of scent as you walk by. What are your favorite sillage monsters? This is an important question because I want to put together a sample pack of sillage monsters from your recommendations. I won’t use all of them, just the most frequently mentioned. Think about it, I’ll leave this post open for a while to take entries

Also, the winner of last week’s grabbag full of samples is…. Camille! Just hit the contact us button over there and shoot me your address, and I’ll stuff this bulging bag of samples into an envelope and send them on their way.

Everyone, have a great and safe Labor Day weekend. Where did the summer go? I’m always happy to see it end now, fall truly is my favorite time of year, right up until Jan 2, and then I want spring back…

Patty

This is going to be a brief post, because we´re heading into Labor Day Weekend, and yesterday I got my XXL September Vogue in the mail (squeeeee!!!) and I´ll be busy propping that up in my lap for perusal for the next few days. I read online that it weighs 4 lbs. 5 ozs. without the advertising supplement. Between that and the endless odd-smelling envelopes, my postman probably wishes I would move somewhere else. Anyway, here are some random thoughts:

1) I have some fragrance samples that are a year or two old that appear to have turned. I´m talking specifically about the ones in the plastic atomizers. And I don´t mean the top notes have gone off; I´m not a chemist, but it seems to me like the plastic is literally dissolving, and they smell terrible. A bunch of extra airspace in the atomizer probably isn´t doing the scent any favors either. If you have a plastic atomizer of some rare, much-loved juice you´d like to hang onto so you can take it out and sniff it every now and again, I´d seriously consider moving it into the smallest airtight glass container it can fit into.

2) If I ever win the lottery I´m going to track down Victoire Gobin-Daude and throw money at her until she reopens her shop, brings back her original line and creates some new ones. You can thank me later. My 1ml vials of Nuit au Desert and Sous le Buis are almost gone, and I am pretty torn up about that.

3) If you´ve tried a specific fragrance, particularly one that you really thought would work on you, and it was all wrong, please try again. And by “try again,” I mean: get some from a completely different source and try again. Let´s face it: stuff happens. Bottles go bad sitting on counters under the light and heat. Samples get mixed up and contaminated. Patty and I have both had instances (we shared a nasty vial of Iris Silver Mist once, and thank God she eventually got another one) where it was clear that there´d been some problem with the first go-round. I´m not talking about your nose coming around to something eventually; that happens too, of course. But I´ve done enough re-sampling at this point to feel pretty confident that sometimes you get a bum steer. No fault, no blame. But please don´t write a fragrance off forever based on a sample of one.

4) For those of you suckered into buying Kenzo Jungle Elephant based on my review, and/or other folks who are still trying to figure out how to “ride the Elephant” through the first intensely sweet hour to the mother lode of spicy goodness – I discovered through happy accident that it layers beautifully with the original Comme des Garcons parfum (which I think is actually an EDP? with notes of Cardamom, Coriander, Geranium, Nutmeg, Cinnamon Bark, Clove, Labdanum, Styrax, Cedarwood, Cut Hay, Olibanum, Black Pepper, Sandalwood, Rose, Honey). The CdG spices smother the gooey candied opening of the Elephant. For any of you who haven’t tried that CdG (created in 1994 by Marc Buxton)… well, what the heck are you waiting for?! Look at those notes!!!!!! If they hold any appeal at all, you owe yourself a sniff. I’m really looking forward to wearing it this fall.

Well, that´s all my little pearls of perfume wisdom for the moment. Feel free to share your own pearls in the comments below. Otherwise, have a great Labor Day weekend. Don´t forget your sunscreen! Drink plenty of hydrating, ice-cold alcoholic beverages from a can! See you in September!

image: allposters.uk.net

March

For today’s group experience we’re reviewing two scents from Montale, a company with a pretty extensive inventory — Basenotes lists 36 fragrances, a lot for a company that’s been in business since 2001. Montale’s fragrances are considered unisex by the company. How did your Posse pals feel about Montale Aoud Roses Petals and the opposite end of the spectrum, Aoud Cuir D’Arabie?

Aoud Roses Petals has notes of rose, geranium, amber, cedarwood, teakwood, oud.

Bryan: I have only come across a couple fragrances that (or is it which?) send me screaming to the sink to scrub skin away from bone. MPG Fleur d’Iris is the first…blech! Aoud Roses Petals is now the second. I have dissed some fragrances in the past, only to return to the blog, head held down in shame, to eat the words I spewed all over the laptop. Ether de Lilas by PG comes to mind…Ahem…This will NOT happen here. I gave it all night….cringing the entire time. From start to miserable finish, it was like a bleach/ammonia/rose nightmare! I enjoy Roses…I love Frederic Malle’s Une Rose. I love the Parfums de Rosine line. Well, most of them. This I just don’t get. I crave Tubereuse Criminelle, so I don’t shy away from the odd blasts of cool notes….This however is completely unforgiveable. Just unforgiveable.

Lee: I thought we were doing Aoud Flowers? Oh well…. (runs off to test this one. Waits four hours. Returns). More than virtually any other scents, these Montale Aouds are entirely different from start to finish. You can’t get an real impression of them in the first ten minutes, and if I did take that impression, I’d hate them. I was a very healthy pre-teen, but a very sickly teen, affected inexplicably by ENT disasters. These aouds are unpleasantly medicinal memory trips for me, enough to make me back away and feel a creeping sense of light-headedness and wan fever. But this scent changes. I don’t do roses very comfortably, but there’s nothing mosquito-pitched about this one – it’s a heady and dark tea rose scent of a very high quality. I can appreciate it, but not want to wear it.

Patty: You guys are wimps! It’s oud, for cry-yi-yi! Anyway… it is a little strong, but I like the contrast of the strong, strong medicine and those delicate little rose petals fighting for their lives in a vat of pitch. I can’t wear many of the ouds for very long, they are fierce and overpowering sometimes, but I still like them for what they are.

March: Lee, yeah, I know — she sent us this one instead. How strong is Aoud Roses Petals? Without opening the package, I could smell a 1ml, unleaking vial sealed in bubblewrap inside a plastic shipping pouch. Just to give you an idea. It’s not the sort of thing you’d want to spill on your upholstery. I applied four drops to my inner arm; two or three healthy sprays of this would likely kill me. It’s pretty much roses, geranium and oud, and you know how much I love rose in fragrance (not much). So I am surprised to report that I kind of like this. The geranium and oud do a great job of cutting the migraine-inducing plastic sweetness I dislike in rose. It’s spicy and deep and a little smoky, moving in the general direction of, say, OJ Ta’if — rose is only part of the story. After half an hour, the rose falls back even further and I’m left with an oud-amber-rose-geranium, in that order. I’d never buy this, but I might wear it again, the way I wear really strong fragrances — I apply a drop or two in the general vicinity of my navel, and enjoy catching hints of it as I go through the day.

Aoud Cuir D’Arabie has notes of tobacco, leather, oud and burnt wood.

Lee: In my early twenties, one of my best friends was friends with a 50something stoner biker. He had a grey whiskery beard, a receding hairline, and a permanently nicotine stained pony tail. He wore shirts with small dope burns all over them – these allowed his wiry chest hair to perform curlicues on the cotton. On his lower half, he always seemed to wear the same leather trousers. If I could imagine inhaling the buttock section of these pantaloons, that would be the first few minutes of Cuir d’Arabie. It really is that powerful. I don’t get oud here, just the entire process of leather manufacture, with all the smells of flesh, decay and render that entails. It’s the most accurate depiction of leather-in-action I’ve ever sniffed. It makes me feel like animal hide, which I guess in one way or another, I am. I just don’t want to be flailed quite yet, thank you very much.

Patty: Lee’s description is pretty spot on for the open, though I never smelled his best friend’s butt-end of his leather pants – not asking to, either. This thing is just rank on the open, but in a very pungent, interesting way. I do get a little oud in there, it’s slightly medicinal behind all that leather. But in a few minutes, it’s Saddle me Up, Cowboy! I adore this… just hand me my hairshirt and start flailing.

Bryan: Thank you Lee for the mental. If I’m ever feeling a bit “randy” at an awkward place, I’ll recall that image and go immediately from flushed to ice cold. I do however agree with the description. (Damn, I wish I could write like that). I don’t really hate this as much as the other Montale. I just wouldn’t ever, ever reach for it. I am knocked over the head with dirty leather…and not dirty in the skank, delicious way. I mean the Pleather wearin’ in the summertime trashy way. I really wanted to enjoy the Montales, but I am like 0 for 6…though that does leave 30 more, right? (Crystal Flowers is a joke and the Tiare is ok, but it’s better elsewhere). Here I just get ripe leather and some smoke (maybe that’s the oud). Missed again Montale…(stolen from Will and Grace…)

March: I thought what Lee was writing was complimentary, even up to and through the buttock/animal hide parts, so I guess I’m a little slow on the uptake. I also thought Cuir D’Arabie was sort of yummy. It comes right up to the skank line for me but doesn’t cross it the way, say, Miller Harris’ L’Air de Rien does. (Actually, Rien doesn’t cross the line so much as stomp it into the dust with its hobnail boots and sprint away.) Then the buttcrack accord backs off a bit and it’s a rich, deep, dirty (as in dirt) leather, like Tauer’s Lonestar Memories only with more motor oil and possibly some roadkill, like an armadillo or something, waaaaay off there in the distance. Now I’m off to assume another identity, since I used “dirt,” “buttcrack accord” and “roadkill” in a review of something I called “yummy.” I wouldn’t buy a bottle of this either, but I’d wear it to … something. Not sure what. Mucking stalls? Bridge night at a leather bar?

March: (later) hey, why not go for it? Roses Petals layers nicely with Cuir, which smothers the rose element pretty decisively, and you get the leather without so much of Cuir’s animal skin dirtiness. Either that or my nose broke. Also … Cuir and CB Musk Reinvention together are a smell to behold. The musky sweetness of Reinvention on top of the peat-y leather of Cuir morphs them both into a sultry thing that you hardcore skank lovers might appreciate.

Patty: You are right! I wonder what Rien and Musk and Arabie would do to each other after all the nekkid mechanic wrasslin in the horse corral? Maybe we should do that next Fourplay.

Lee: steady on, you freaks!

March

As promised, I’m reviewing a couple of Parfums de Nicolai today, a perfume house truly deserving of more love.   I’m getting a little distracted by the Montale Cuir d’Arabie thing sitting over on a corner of my hand, but I’ll just keep ignoring that bit of… well, more on Wednesday when it’s up in the Fourplay.

Balle de Match –   Incense and citrus.  The top is the tartest grapefruit I can remember smelling.  Mouth-scrunching tart perfection underpinned with a beautiful, understated incense. It never truly loses that tartness of the citrus through the drydown, which is pretty rare for but a few perfumes, the lasting power is very nice, and it is utterly charming, balanced between the incense and the tart. Surprising that someone could pull this off, it’s a tricky balance on me, sometimes almost veering off into a bad direction.  Thinking this doesn’t work on everyone, but glad it’s working for me! 

Cococabana – Notes of coconut, bitter oranges, ylang-ylang, tuberose, cedar wood and palm. Given the notes, and how much I despise coconut and island tropical fruity scents in general, this really doesn’t work for me personally.  However, out of the islandy scents I’ve smelled and hated, which is most of them, this really isn’t that bad.  Those that like island fragrances and don’t mind coconut will find a lot to like here.  If it didn’t have the coconut, the palm and cedar in the base would make it work, adding enough to the ylang and tuberose so it wasn’t completely over the top with white lushness.  If you don’t care for coconut, this isn’t going to work for you, and you can join me over on the “no” side. The Coconut fades, but true hatahs will smell it down to the last drop.  I don’t think it’s one of the best things they’ve done, but it’s nice for what it is.

Number one – the first fragrance from the line, has notes of Egyptian jasmine, Indian tuberose, orange blossom absolute, cassis, rose, iris. It’s all floral, and mostly white, but just saying that really doesn’t describe it well enough.  It’s not a white floral like Marc Jacobs, which I find to be too much most of the time — it is understated and classy with a casual elegance that would work for day or night. Don’t make the mistake I did of spritzing some Montale Oud Cuir d’Arabie over the top of it, thinking that could liven things up.  Mis-take.  Oh, wait, but the brakes on that dis!!!!!!!!   The Number One/Arabie is getting really interesting as we go along.   Kind of like when Secretariat won the Kentucky Derby and had that floral blanket put on in the winner’s circle, but they subbed jasmine and tuberose for the roses.  Hey, don’t scoff, it’s a great contrast.

What’s your favorite Parfums de Nicolai? And a PSA for a deserving series that is coming back this fall. They have Friday Night Lights out on DVD for $19.  Truly the best series  I’ve seen on regular TV, and if you missed it last year, you can catch up on DVD and join the rest of us that are begging for this Little Show that Could to make it this season.

Patty

I´m supposed to be reviewing Elternhaus´ Moslbuddjewthing today, the scent which according to their website is “directed against limited partisan political and religious thinking, which always produces violence. For this reason, the Elternhaus perfume object may be understood politically, but if it had to be categorized, it would be, at the most, cosmopolitan.” You can achieve all that at $300 for a 50ml bottle (from Luckyscent.) Knock yourself out. If you haven´t had your daily fill of fatuous, high-art bloviation after reading that excerpt, here´s the link.

Marc Buxton created it. I mean, I guess he did. His name´s on the website, anyway, but who can tell? Maybe “Marc Buxton” is the name of their dog, along with that dog named Jesus they talk about. All I know is, I’m not going back in there without my waders on.

Sure, it´s a fine fragrance. I mean, look at the notes (cassis, basilic, marioana base, mate, immortelle, labdanum, olibanum, rose, gaiac, black pepper, vetiver, sandalwood, cedar wood, patchouli, musk, amber.) Unless you upped the rose or the cedar to some sort of thermonuclear proportions, you´d have trouble producing something I hate. I don´t get any cassis in the opening and for the first three minutes it´s rich and woody and I found myself thinking, Christ – what if I fall in love with this? But then Christ answered my prayers and trotted in a somewhat bitter, herbaceous smell (is marioana like marijuana?) which wasn´t terrible, but unless you love the smell of dope it wasn´t fabulous either. I can´t really detect the immortelle, which makes me sad but would make some of you happy. The sandalwood and vetiver kick in, the dope note fades after half an hour or so, and the drydown is one of those powerful, seamless, creamy wood fragrances where no notes stick out particularly. It´s like a giant, smoothly sanded wooden ball. Did I love it so much that I´m going to buy a bottle? No. But I´m not going to judge you if you buy it.

What´s an incense that achieves world peace for me? Well … that´s a pretty high bar, frankly. I went up and stared at my collection for awhile, trying to figure out where I wanted to go with this review, and here´s the rough segue:

Point A: I have a lot of incense and woods fragrances, because those notes are arguably my favorite in perfumery.

Point B: (follow along here, this gets twisty, do you need to go get another cup of coffee first?) I can conjure up pretty effortlessly in my mind the smell of many of my greatest perfume rides – from Mitsouko through En Passant and Carnal Flower and right on out to the weird wings (Jicky parfum. Bal. Le Labo Vetiver.) If I think of them, I can smell them in my mind.

Point C: I´ve been in a period of fascination with fragrances with low sillage/high longevity – the sort of stuff that vibrates in the background for a long, long time.

If I do a diagram of those mental tangents as applied to me personally – and why not, it can´t be any stupider than the diagram on the Elternhaus site – I come up with a sample of one – L´Artisan´s Passage d´Enfer.

I have always been amused that a fragrance name that allegedly translates to “the gates of Hell” can provide me with such happiness. There´s no brimstone there. It´s the all-purpose fragrance improver. I have sprayed Passage on top of more insipid florals and dull musks than I care to remember. Olivia Giacobetti did it, and it´s genius – fragrance as a personal transporter. This is not church or cathedral. There´s a delicate floralcy (Luckyscent says lily) that emerges slowly from the frankincense, a luminous glow, an other-ness that gives me the same kind of thrill I get from meandering alone at dusk down an interesting rain-damp street in some city I love.

The thing that really blows me away about Passage, having given it a whole day of attention recently, is I never remember what it smells like. I remember maybe 75% of the scent – the silhouette of the fragrance – but my mind fails to capture the rest of it – the part that rises like smoke and hugs me like mist, all at the same time. Melancholy and joy. No matter how many times I wear it, I never quite remember just how beautiful it is until I put it on.

So, here´s my earnest, multi-faith prayer for you – if you´ve got some long-neglected fragrance sitting up there on your shelf, because you´re always catting around with the new samples on the block, go put some on right now – or tonight or tomorrow – and give that scent the love it deserves.

Photo: Campanile di San Marco, Venice: Jim Richardson, apertureprofessional.com. If you didn’t really look at the photo, you might want to scroll back up there, it’s striking.

March