Fall continues to unroll in my neighborhood like an endless, crimson magic carpet. We are fully into our October leaf display — a month late. I can never remember what alchemy of temperature and moisture is supposed to produce the best fall color on our maples, oaks and walnuts, but surely something went right earlier this year.

In late November the outdoors here is normally gray and brown, a reminder that winter is definitely just around the corner. I like all this color around me even if it´s a bit odd. And although we´ve had a few light freezes, my roses are still blooming like mad. Their late, optimistic buds and fragrant blossoms are decorating my Thanksgiving table today. Yesterday I clipped the last of the lavender, still blooming along the side of the house, to tuck into my linen closet.

I am thankful. I am thankful for all of you. I hope you have a lovely day today. I plan to indulge in our magnificent holiday ritual – baking pies this morning, consuming 4,000 calories this afternoon, and falling asleep in front of the television, my eyes levered shut by massive doses of turkey and assorted carbohydrates.

On Monday I´ll be reviewing some of the other things I´m thankful for, returned to me in my Weird Bottle Swap. I hope to see you then.

fall leaves: naturemoms.com

March

… is the name of the new fragrance by little known Portuguese house Para errar e humano, and I was lucky enough to score a sample by first pimping my body to the highest bidder, then abseiling from the Houses of Parliament, and finally parading naked from John O’Groats to Land’s End, wearing nothing more than multicoloured nipple tassles with motorised twirling action and a codpiece in the shape (though not size – tiny stopper!) of a Serge Lutens bell bottle (later surgically removed).

Enough about me, what about the perfume? Well, never have I come across a less apposite moniker. Said to be designed around the idea of a flag shaped pyramid with a dodecahedronal nature, top notes of bassoon, Guadalajara and emery board waaaay too quickly give way to midnotes of vintage clothes-rack, durian and tarte au citron with the first traces of mould. Within 15 minutes of the first spray (Patience has ‘a patent pending spray device that has to be seen to be believed, combining rustic chic with the evanescence of contemporaneity: we call it “Esguinchar mim!”‘) a mere hint of these notes is left – all that remains is the base notes: ‘a breeze on Saturday afternoon in Oporto, 1963, essence of Lord Beaverbrook and Japanese windchimes’. We found it truly wonderful and although it has all the tenacity in one’s memory of a drunken fumble on the dance floor back when one was young, foolish and unhappy, it would be worth buying if it wasn’t for the price. Setting a new standard for niches, a 5ml bottle of pure parfum (‘in a delectable apothecary bottle, hand etched by virginal spinsters in the hills of Bali-Hai’, though it looks like one you could buy in Walmart), will set you back $450. You’ll also have to visit their boutique in Neverneverland, On a Green Hill Far Away – no phone orders. I’ll satisfy myself with my non-existent decant.

Sorry, I’m being sillly. Though not too far off the mark given the claptrap us scentaholics have to swallow from far too many companies these days. I’m convinced Patty’s budget for her Perfumed Court business must be heading towards the GNP of a country like Bhutan, given the exponential rise in perfume prices now that – and oh, ain’t we lucky kids! – luxury is back. Anyway, I seem determined to continue to digress. Enough!
I’m writing this because, as we approach holiday season (I do so hope you have lots of social engagements for what some silly Brits label ‘Party Season’ over here – daft arses), I’m waiting on packages that normally fly across the Atlantic in three days but have been slowed down by Thanksgiving sluggishness. I blame all those marshmallows served with sweet potatoes. They’re called sweet potatoes for a reason folks! Ease up a little wouldja?!! Anyway, I have no patience, and their lack of arrival is DOING MY HEAD IN! For one thing, I have nothing, nada, zilcharoonie to review.

Patience is a virtue

Virtue is a grace

Grace is a little girl

Who didn’t wash her face.

My gran, in all her wisdom, was able to debunk millennia of Judaeo-Christian doctrine in a teensy weensy quatrain. Don’t get me wrong, I think Patience is a long way from over-rated. I’m a (sometimes) patient listener, teacher, partner, lover, gardener, cook, walker, thinker, tinker, tailor, soldier, spy, but i draw the line at patience for perfume. If I’ve fallen in love, I whine at the door like a dog in heat. I rush home from work each day, hoping to find at least a note saying ‘We tried to deliver your perfume of delight that will change your life forever, make the stars sparkle more brightly, give hope where there was once despair, etc., etc., etc.,’ but as yet the doormat has only bills, junkmail, Christmas catalogues (Boden x4 is currently the record winner, closely followed by the Cotswold Company), and bank statements (which I long ago requested to be online only – as you can tell, I’m a zealous crusader against climate change…). I dream of delayed smell and wake up pining, empty nasal cavity matching empty wallet.
I don’t know what to do about it. Suggestions please. Alternatively, maybe you could do a little dance of ‘postal delivery for Lee’ (I imagine the moves would work well with a disco number like ‘Young Hearts, Run Free’ by Candi Staton) chez toi, and I might get lucky. I’m a dirty materialist, but I’m happy for very silly superstitions to work in my favour…

Even more alternatively, if Lack of Patience (and avarice – let’s not go there) are my perfume sins, what are yours? Share – we’re in this together, folks, and I’ll tell no-one. No-one, you hear?

Lee

I’m always hesitant to post and I don’t know why. Everyone in the blogosphere, with the odd exception…ahem, is unbelievably kind, overlooking the occasional misspelled word, or stupid rant. And yet I hesitate. I hereby commend my latest few rants/reviews to all who would feign interest.

I have titled this, “the hunt,” because I want to reach out here. How many of us are after that perfect tuberose (or leather, or violet) and we truly know, I mean absolutely KNOW that it isn’t even the notion of finding the holy grail, but the quest for the ultimate perfume that enthralls? I confess I have obsessed about the new Diors (the “particulieres”) since I first saw mention on Now Smell This. I have no idea what they will smell like, but I have the collection on the way as soon as they hit the boutiques. Yes, I adore Galliano and all he has done for the magnificent house. But do I truly have any idea what his art will manifest in his scented world?….I know he is a mere collaborator, but I’m sure he was involved heavily in their creation. I saw “tuberose”, “exclusive” and “Dior” and that was all she wrote. Please, anyone out there relate?? What’s a hunter to do?

On to some raves and randoms. I have a fabulous new friend at the Prada Beverly Hills boutique and I’m going to shamelessly plug him. His name is Joa and he has been nothing but kind and generous with his time/attention. I live in the middle of the freakin’ midwest and of course have to do much shopping over the internet and phone. This gentleman has emailed pictures and spent so much time on the phone with me describing everything from jackets to, you guessed it, the single note scents. I must tell you the new ones (Myrrhe, Opoponex, and benjoin) will be mine as soon as they too hit the store! The Oeillet, et al (referred to as numbers 1-7) are magnificently minimalist and gorgeous. I have been layering the tubereuse and the narcisse with the iris for quite some time and have never failed to at least garner a “what are you wearing??!! from someone.

I have enjoyed Angel since it’s debut. I can appreciate the power of the scent/packaging/advertising. I don’t share Luca’s seeming obsession with the chemicals involved, but what do I know. I’ll tell you. The newest incarnation is “La part des Anges.” Everone knows this of course. The jus is drop dead gorgeous. Much more woodsy and rich, but not too sweet. I would buy more if I hadn’t already promised my bank account to Dior.

How about I send a fabulous little something (I promise it will go out right away!!) to a random two people. It will be a combination of the few things mentioned. I’ll tack on the winners’ names to one of my fabulous blogmates’ post…..Happy Thanksgiving and God Bless you and yours.

Every now and again, browsing websites like LuckyScent and BeautyHabit, I play a game in my head: if I were to choose a signature scent based solely on the image a fragrance projects via the bottle, marketing, name, perfumer, what have you – anything except the notes – what would I go with? I might go with Solange Azagury-Partridge´s Stoned. I can´t help myself. I like her detailed, occasionally over-the-top jewelry, the bottle looks interesting, and I´d love to tell people I was wearing Stoned. The name´s obviously a play on her work as a jeweler, but it´s also humorous (stoned, as in high) and even dangerous (like being stoned for your sins). I´d get busy and learn how to pronounce Solange´s full name without sounding like a goober. But I never actually smelled Stoned, because what if: a) I love it, and then ack! – it´s just one more thing to covet; or b) I hate it, and then it can´t be my imaginary friend any more. I wound up with a sample recently, and I decided it was time to discover the truth.

I was heartened by the number of reviews of this fragrance on LuckyScent containing the words “old lady,” a sure sign that it might be love. The opening, all face-powder, was a bitter disappointment. Come on — look at that bottle! I wasn´t expecting that kind of old lady! My disappointment lasted approximately 20 seconds, when the muff-bomb exploded and I got my first clue what those reviewers were complaining about.

Let us detour (briefly) to the Victoria´s Secret scents. I have smelled a few, and they can be pleasant. They play at sexy, with their jasminillamber accords, but they are cupcake fragrances. They are “sexy” with a smile and a wink. If the Victoria´s Secret line is a sexy little kitten, then Stoned is a panther, with cold, glittering eyes and hot, dangerous breath. The first few minutes of Stoned is deliciously dirty. It´s a barnyard musk somewhere between JAR´s Ferme Tes Yeux and Miller Harris´ L’Air de Rien, cut with a generous dollop of Bal a Versailles´ black-hearted lollipop. If I had to guess the magic in this witches´ brew it would be labdanum; its resin-y ambergris/leather smell mimics the off-kilter sparkle and prickly heft of Azagury-Partridge´s anglerfish ring pictured here (which I would love, if Santa´s reading this. Or Satan, which is what I originally typed. There must be a soul around here somewhere I could sell…) The flowers gradually emerge, but they’re dark and dusky, adding a lover’s warmth to the scent rather than any overt sweetness. Once you get past the opening it’s a relatively linear fragrance; love it or hate it, there’s not a lot of middle ground. It doesn’t smell like Bal a Versailles (which in my opinion is the superior scent) but it’s got some of that inky allure, that sweet whiff of incense and decay you get in cold, dank stone rooms. The drydown eventually loses its magic and becomes a sensual, rather conventional musk; for something that comes on as hot to trot as Stoned does, it rolls over and goes to sleep faster than, say, vintage Femme or Bal. Am I going to pay $285 for this? Nope. But it sure was a fun roll in the hay.

Notes are: Italian bergamot, classic rose, jasmine absolute, labdanum, tree moss, musk and vanilla bourbon.

bottle image: luckyscent; ring from Azagury-Partridge’s website

March

Word of advice — never go out of town when there is a Posse Scent Club coming up that you have to write for, and at least one of the scents on the list is something you detest that has some fierce fans, because your “friends” will stick you with the one scent you don’t ever want to write about again.

So…. let’s start somewhere else in hopes of keeping the yelling down when I get to Arabie.  Serge Lutens Rahat Loukhoum is one of those scents that I could stick my nose in the bottle and sniff all day and be happy. Put it on my skin?  Not so much.  Notes of fresh white almond, crushed cherry pits, hawthorn, heliotrope, Turkish rose, balsam, tonka bean, aldehydes, white honey, musk and vanilla.   I’m not sure what goes wrong on me, and it doesn’t always, but I’m blaming the honey.  Inspired by the thick, jellied candy, which I’ve never smelled… maybe?  It’s not that white stuff with the jelly chunks inside it that Brachs makes and sells in the Pick-a-Mix bins?  Listen, my culture just isn’t that polished, shoot me — oh, wait, the Arabie fans will do that later, never mind.  The open of Rahat is sweet and cherry and just lovely, but the longer it’s on me, it turns into kind of a blobby mess. I’m not sure if it does that on everyone, but because of the way it dries down, this for me will always remain in my “leave it in the bottle to sniff” category of perfumes, but any time I am almost out of it, I have to make sure I have at least a couple of ml around always to sniff because smelling it makes me very happy, for reasons I just can’t explain.

Guerlain’s Iris Ganache I’ve reviewed in the past, and I’ve not changed my mind on how much I love this since my previous review.  The notes are  bergamot, iris butter, white chocolate, floral notes, cinnamon, patchouli, white musks, cedarwood and vanilla. It sounds like a mess, but it so works, never going too sweet or into the sweet gourmand territory.  Wasser balanced this one perfectly, as the drydown veers off into a dry territory that is a shadow of sweetness, just a whisper.  In fact, the longer I smell this one, the more I adore it.

 Listen, when I get done with this next one, I should just move before the Arabie lovers show up at my door, throw a gunny sack over my head and take me out and throw me in the river.  What they were thinking when they made this perfume potage is a mystery.  A commenter said yesterday that they wanted to eat Arabie, not wear it, and that’s pretty much where I fall.  Notes of Cedar, sandalwood, candied mandarin peel, dried figs, dates, cumin, nutmeg, clove, balsamic resins, Tonka bean, Siamese benzoin, myrrh reads like a shopping list for King Soopers instead of a perfume.  It’s just tooooooo much – too cuminy, too much spice, too, yes, FOODY!  Gak, gah, erp, yuk, I hate this stuff on me with the passion of a thousand burning coals. I will never change my mind, no, not ever.   Pardon me, I need to salt and pepper my Arabie hand and eat it now.  ::: shudder ::::

Whether gourmand or foody, I do always find myself fascinated with the more “eaty” scents, even though I wear very few of them. Iris Ganache is one of the ones I do wear.  When you do try gourmand perfumes, are you someone that wears them or just likes to sniff them in the bottle?  Out of the six scents that we picked for this Posse Scent Club, which did you like the most? Which did you think was the best made, even if it wasn’t your favorite? And why?

Also — the sample set is now up on The Perfumed Court, and you can get 30% off with code POSSE — make sure to hit the arrow to the right of the code after you put it in to apply it. I can’t do the individual samples with that discount anymore, though, sorry!

Patty