I’m sorry to tell you, I’m sick. A sinus infection that had me drive three hours home today in a state of semi-delirium/dubnium/Deuteronomy. You see my problem? So, to save my throbbing grey matter, I’m going to list ten things I love the smell of – or that I’m longing to smell soon – when spring finally gets sprung and rolls into glorious summer. You do the same please.

1. A plate of olive oil seared (and home grown, of course) pimientos de Padron, sprinkled with sea salt and consumed rapidamente.

2. Pavements/sidewalks drying oh too quickly after a late summer downpour.

3. The earth I scrape from under my nails after digging/ planting/sowing.

4. Sliced jalapenos.

5. Basmati rice, simmering.

6. Monsooned Malabar coffee beans, poured into the grinder. Or sitting on the seat next to me in my car, on the way home from the store.

7. Dogs’ paws. Any dogs’, though some are better than others.

8. Daphne bholua ‘Jaqueline Postill’, at its best right now, that sits by the front door and hits you with its intense voluptuousness on arrival home.

9. Matt. Anywhere. Anytime.

10. The scent of expectation.

Your turn please.

Photo of Daphne courtesy of the oh so wonderful Cambridge Botanic Gardens, UK.

Sorry this is late today, I forgot to set it to Publish! 

I had planned on talking about DKNY Men today, but, bleah.  Typical men’s cologne, and I don’t really have anything bad to say about it, but I don’t have anything good either.  It just smells like everything else.

Is anyone else a Geek Girl like me and has their tickets for The Watchmen on opening day, March 6?  If so, you can share your showtime with me in comments - major love for anyone that’s doing a midnight showing.  It’s my most anticipated movie this year, along with The Soloist, with yummy Robert Downey Jr who seems to get ridiculously more good looking every time I see him, and Sunshine Cleaning Company.

Instead of DKNY Men, I’m plunging into the more difficult area of perfume to describe, and that’s ouds.  Ouds tend to smell somewhat the same. They’re oudish and usually have some rose or vanilla or jasmine or all of the above.  Calling them dark and exotic is the starting point for all oud reviews.  If you like ouds, you can almost not go wrong with any of them.  If you only like a few ouds, then I have the one for you.

Arabian Oud Shah Gold is the women’s side of a dual perfume experience, and my favorite of the two.  The set is ridiculously expensive, but like most oud oils, you really do need just a drop to perfume you mightily. so on a cost per drop basis, it’s only very slightly less costly.  Now, Shah Gold is the one I briefly mentioned in our Paris adventures that Shirley put on, and we all kept burying our noses in her neck.  It has notes of 1,000 flowers, jasmine, myrrh, white musk, cardamon, sandalwood, cedarwood.  I’ve never been quite sure what 1,000 flowers is exactly, but I suspect it’s the perky floral note you get on the open that’s very bright and lends a sunny aura to all those other notes.  The incense, woods and spices are really perfectly balance in this so your nose can smell all those aspects, but none of them overpower the other.  Mahmoud told us when we were there that traditionally they way you are supposed to perfume yourself is you start with incense and you hold your robes over it and let the incense smoke permeate your clothes.  Then you use several different oud oils so when people smell you, you will never smell like just one thing, you will always smell unique and richly fragrant.  I can tell you absolutely that when we came out of Arabian Oud, we must have stunk to high heaven, but in a good way.  Shah Gold is the best single oud oil that captures that profusion of smells.  The drydown is so mellow and slightly florally sweet, with just enough oud sharpness so you remember it’s an oud, I’d love to have this smell all over my pillow every night. It’s become my favorite oud oil ever, and I guard jealouslyl the teensy drops of it that I have.  For those of you who want that very sharp, distinct oud scent, this one isn’t the one for you.

You know what we need?  We need a break from March’s ponderous explorations of 80s big-hair scents and her other navel-gazing posts, complete with lint.  Well, thanks to a mercy box from someone (not naming any names) March can pull her head out of her Poison and report on the first hopeful signs of spring.

1) Snowdrops all over the neighbor’s yard.

2) These three new Kenzo Eau de Fleur dealies.  You know what a Kenzo gal I am, right?  (And no, they do not send me this crap to review as their BFF, although frankly they should.)  According to their website, “Kenzo flower waters are picked from Japanese trees.” {Note from me: one assumes this is not literal.}  “Each eau de toilette in the collection evokes a delicate trail of tree blossom. Three new fragrances made of natural, clear and streamlined floral notes. Every year, Kenzo will enrich this collection by picking another flower.” 

Let me point out (courtesy of NST) that the perfumers are: Jean Jacques (Soie), Aurelien Guichard (Tea), and Francis Kurkdjian (Magnolia), which might slow down any instantaneous dismissal of these as duty-free dreck.

So, we have:

Eau de Fleur de Soie Silk – look, they do the Franglish translamation from the Japanese for you right there on the label!  Fleur de Soie’s “shameless allure conceals its secret charm: a crimson floral note with a tender, fruity heart.”  As far as I can tell it’s an impression of Silk Tree mimosa (Albizia julibrissin, not to be confused with regular mimosa) with some watery notes and slightly tart fruit.   In Japan, silk tree is used for bonsai.  If you google you get gardening sites of people begging you not to plant silk tree mimosas – lovely as they are, they reseed rapidly and are considered an invasive exotic throughout much of the U.S.

Eau de Fleur de The Tea – “special edition.  Musky green floral. A white cowbell with a heart of gold. Sheltered under its leaves, the tea flower diffuses a floral concoction with notes of green tea and a hint of musk.”  Um… okaaay.  This is a floral tea.  It’s delicious.  This made me so happy because I had to grab several tea scents at random to compare, and what is more sprightly and happy and evocative of warmer weather than tea?  Anyhow, this Eau de Fleur is: less sweet than Nicolai Fig-Tea; not as weirdly rubbery/black as the Speziali Fiorentini (which is $24 and rocks at BE, here’s the link); kinda sorta in the direction of Bvlgari White without the herbs; heavier than L’Artisan The Pour un Ete.  I’m not sure I’ll run out and buy a bottle, since I have a lot of tea scents already, but if it appeared on my dresser I’d wear it.

Eau de Fleur de Magnolia – “Perched on their branches, magnolia flowers flaunt their dignified and willowy allure. A radiant floral bouquet, bursting with hesperidian notes, dances beneath a cloak of petals.”  A citrusy floral with a slightly funky undertone, which makes sense – magnolias smell weirdly lemony/mushroomy.  In my opinion. 

What did I think of these?  I thought they were a nicely done, in a cheerful, Kenzo-esque way.  If you think Kenzo is an inexplicable waste of time, these aren’t going to change your mind.  If you appreciate Kenzo’s lighter scents and slightly offbeat whimsy, they’re worth sampling (they’re on the Nordstrom website, not yet in my local store, but I assume they will be.)   Magnolia was my least favorite, the drydown being slightly murky-woody.  I found the Silk Flower surprisingly wearable – it’s less sweet than you’d guess and lasts decently without becoming cloying or edible, although please note that I was dabbing.  The Tea was my hands-down favorite.  It has an attractive musky base and doesn’t do any of the odd things tea scents can do on the skin (too sweet/sour/bitter/dank).

Kenzo bottle image: Nordstrom

P.S.: if you’re dying to feel the vintage YSL Paris love all over again – I bought an older bottle on eBay, please look carefully at this image at left.  I don’t know when they changed the box, but the newer ones are all pink, whereas the older ones have that wide black stripe down the middle and across the bottom of the box.  They show up pretty regularly on eBay, be sure to ask about the box if they’re using a stock photo.  I’m not sure whether there’s anything about the bottle that’s different, but this is definitely the box I remember.

My new, vintage EDT was the same nuclear blast from the past I remembered, and I couldn’t be happier.   The ones currently stocked in stores with the all-pink box are wan dupes of old Paris, and shame on them.

One of my favorite new websites, This is Why You’re Fat.  Ponder the Turbaconucken, which is chicken inside a duck inside a turkey, covered in bacon.  Seems maringally more healthy than the deep fried s’more on a stick.

Evody Parfums  is a perfume shop in Paris near the Odeon Metro stop.  They sell niche perfumes, but have also developed their own line.  At 60 euros for what I think is 50 mls (it doesn’t say on their website), it’s at least at a halfway decent price point.  Funny how my concept of that has changed over the last five years.

But are they any good? Let’s start with Reve d’Anthala.  Their website lists nots of tropical flowers, orchid and tiare, Madagascar vanilla, jasmine, musk and benzoin.  This is a nicely made tropical gourmand, if you’re a fan of that.  The vanilla is not too sweet, somewhere between Indult Tihota and L’ann-ael maybe?  The musk and benzoin give it a nice base to sit on and keeps it on the mild and not overpowering side of the perfume fence.  It has a nice, soft drydown that seems like a soft tropical summer night.

Pomme d’Or has notes of lime, oak and juniper, and it is light and brisk and refreshing and right in SMN Eva territory.  Just a sparkling, happy brew that would work for men or women.  Its best season would be spring and summer, but just wearing it any time for a pick-me up would work for me.

Note de Luxe has notes of bergamot, white flowers, iris, woods, spices and balms.  It’s not exactly an oriental and not really a wood. It has a sharpish note in with the floral,  a little rooty iris. It starts to go a little soapish early on, but the bitter note pulls it back into a really interesting drydown that wound up being the one I kept returning to to sniff over and over again, trying to figure out the interplay.

Bois Secret is a powdery woodsy scent.  It has a little of a Bois des Iles feel too it, with a more sharpish woods note.  They do describe it as powdery, but I don’t find it drifting off in that direction too much, it stays very nicely woodsy and refreshing.  This is one you could spray on with abandon, it’s not overpowering, and it’s just a well-rounded, nice scent

Ambre Intense is incense, flowers, balms and woods.  This is a really nicely done amber that stays fairly dry and has a nice play between the amber and incense, some tang to it, and then some sweet. Sorta like when you sit down to eat potato chips, and they get too salty, so you eat a chocolate, and then your mouth is too sweet, so you eat another couple potato chips.  It has that kind of balance to it.  It’s not overly amberish, and for me, I mean that in good way.  Some ambers are just tooooooo much and I can’t seem to shake them off my nose once I smell them. This one is really just rght.

All five of these scents would work for men or women, except maybe the first one, the d’Anthala, it leans probably more feminine early on, but I don’t think that femine aspect lasts long enough to be of concern.  The entire line is well done, has a decent price point, you can order directly from them, so they’re not trying to be all haughty and exclusive. The nicest thing is, after putting on all five?  I really adore the smell of all of them together.

Let’s do a drawing for a couple of sample sets of all five of these since I still have some left in my little sample bottles. Just drop a comment, and you’ll be entered in the drawing!

One of the hallmarks of a fragrance obsessive is to obsess, right?  Which I’ve been doing, weaving several threads together in my mind.

Nancy generously gave me a bottle of the original Estee Lauder Azuree, and I was thrilled.  (Aldehydes, bergamot, gardenia, jasmine, cyclamen, ylang, orris, patchouli, oakmoss, amber, leather, musk.)  She laughed and pointed out that she’d given it to two people previously, both of whom had given it back in disgust.  I can see that.  I love Azuree now, but it would have repelled me two years ago.  Like learning to love oysters, I’ve worked my way up to that kind of heavily aromatic fragrance bomb.  Still Too Much: Clinique Aromatics Elixir, which I admire rather than enjoy.  (How did I love Mitsouko from first sniff?  I still have no idea, except to say that I think it smells really good on my skin.)

At the other end of the spectrum are fragrances I swooned over at the first sniff which now make me almost physically ill, and (unlike, say, a bad plate of oysters) they’re not associated with some terrible experience or person.  Exhibit A:  S-Perfumes’ 100% Love.  It still has a lot of fans.  I still think Sophia Grojsman’s combination of chocolate, labdanum and rose is daring.  I still can’t believe I wore this.  I wouldn’t last 15 minutes now before scrubbing.

Then there’s the annoying pool of fragrances I can never make my mind up about.  Case in point: Yves Saint Laurent’s Cinema EdP, which is wafting at me from my left arm as I type this.  Cinema is a floriental created by Jacques Cavallier in 2004 that smells like YSL’s entry into the gourmand marketplace.  Notes are: clementine, almond blossom, cyclamen, jasmine, peony, amaryllis, amber, musk, benzoin and vanilla. The opening smells a little fresh and soapy; then we reach a point ten minutes later when I think, yes, creamy, I need this.  It’s somewhere between Organza Indecence and Armani Code, and as comforting as a creamsicle.  Then I sniff it some more and it seems sour; maybe the musk?  On the other hand, isn’t the fact that I’ve worked through three sample atomizers indicative of something besides my inability to make up my mind?  I just … don’t know.

I don’t have this kind of shifting relationship with anything else in my life — not with clothing, not with food.  Sure, I may get temporarily tired of a favorite food if I eat too much of it, but I don’t get up one day and say, I never want to eat mint chocolate chip ice cream again in my life, what was I thinking?!?!.   And while I recognize some of my past fashion decisions as … unfortunate with the benefit of hindsight, I never pull on a beloved shirt one morning and think, ugh, I hate this.  This is hideous.   Nor do I run into stores and embrace previously despised fashion looks (hammer pants, 5-inch heels, blue eyeliner) as suddenly “me.”  Although … actually … my red lipstick obsession feels sort of like my fragrance obsession.

How do our feelings change about fragrance?  The only piece that seems obvious and natural to me is developing a tolerance for “difficult” fragrances through repeated exposure.  But how to explain the sudden infatuation with, say, vanilla scents that prompted sneers of disgust the previous month?   How to understand the sudden discarding of a beloved scent as vile, or merely dull?   How to come to terms with an inability to decide how to feel about a particular fragrance?

So.  Eliminate, please, from your thoughts all the fragrances that have been tainted by some terrible mental association, or redeemed by some positive connection.   Have you changed your mind about some previously loved or loathed scent?  And why?   Is there any scent you simply can’t decide about, and why do you think that is?

image: www.annetaintor.com, I love her quips

Here are links to two interesting articles in today’s New York Times spring fashion magazine supplement:

Message in a Bottle, regarding the iconic Chanel No. 5 flacon;

and Chandler Burr’s article on the Reg Vardy Gallery’s recent show, If There Ever Was: An Exhibition of Extinct and Impossible Smells,  — “as eerie, terrifying and enchanting as it was ingenious. The curator, Robert Blackson, an American then at the School of Arts, Design and Media at the University of Sunderland, had become interested in synthetic scent materials, which were first introduced in the late 1800s. A specialist in contemporary art, he came to understand that the modern perfumer’s appetite for the abstract and unexplainable, like a painter’s, is what ‘‘binds the world of contemporary fragrances to contemporary art.’’   I’d be scared to smell several of the contributions like those by Christophe Laudameil and Mark Buxton, but I’d love to smell Bertrand Duchaufour’s.

Indulge me in a bit of whining here: I am so tired of mainstream fragrance flankers that I want to take them all and…and…and… Honestly, what could I possibly do with them? Fragrances containing alcohol are highly flammable, so starting a giant bonfire is out of the question. Having a weenie roast in the stadium parking lot is one thing, but feeding beer to the fire is not an option. The bottles are glass, so theoretically they can be recycled. But really, how many bud vases does one person need? It’s like trying to come up with alternate uses for a hockey puck; besides the obvious, and using it as a paperweight, what additional purpose does it serve?

Essence Narciso Rodriguez isn’t exactly a flanker to his previous scents, but it is in the same floral/musk family. I am not a fan of NR for Her eau de toilette or eau de parfum (too much chypre in that one for me), and I am completely anosmic to Musc Oil for Her. But, when I sampled Essence from the tester in Saks a few weeks ago, I liked it. I kept sniffing the inside of my arm for the rest of the day thinking I would love a full bottle of this; it’s just the right blend of musk – nicely earthy and politely skanky, with hints of clean floral. Unfortunately, what I got from the sample atomizer was completely different: it started with a sharp burst of iris, rose and (gasp!) powder; A LOT of powder. Where was the powder in the tester? And why did it smell so differently in the sample atomizer? Has this ever happened to anyone else, or is my sense of smell still in crisis?

When sample Essence finally settled down, it morphed into…Philosophy Amazing Grace. I pulled out my bottle of Grace, sprayed some, and yup, Essence is pretty near a dead-ringer for it. Grace is decidedly cleaner and better behaved in the drydown, but the two are remarkably similar; like how NR for Her Eau de Toilette and Lovely Sarah Jessica Parker are for the most part, identical. Maybe I should have started off by stating, “I am so tired of smelling scents that remind me of…”

According to Now Smell This, Essence’s notes consist of iris, rose, benzoin and musk; a very pedestrian blend as far as I’m concerned, but if you can withstand the initial blast of powdery flowers, what remains is quite pleasant. The bottle is a simple silvery flask, very much in keeping with the unfussy sophistication of Rodriguez’s clothing.

As of this posting, there is no information on Essence on Rodriguez’s own website, or any of the department store sites, although it is in stock at the Saks nearest to me. I believe 100 ml is $95.00 and there is a 50 ml size for sale as well. I tried in vain to find out what the exact notes are for Philosophy’s Amazing Grace, but I fear that Grace’s formula is keeping company in the same vault with the secret blend of eleven herbs and spices used to make Kentucky Fried Chicken. There is just nothing out there. There are listings of notes for Pure and Baby Graces on Sephora.com, but none listed for Amazing and Inner. By the way, Inner Grace is another SJP Lovely/NR for Her doppelganger. I’ll stop now, since this is turning into a “Six Degrees of Separation” scenario; a worthwhile idea for a future post, perhaps?

Y’all tuned in here this week to read about perfume, didn’t you?  No Joy in Perfumeville again today on that count.  I’m about three weeks into a End of Winter Malaise. I’m not depressed or unhappy, just seem to have arrived at one of those Brightly Beaconed Turning Points in life where I’ve sat down in the road and punted on life for a while.  I don’t really feel like I have to do or choose something – it feels more like I’ve been remaking my life for the last year now, and I’m just a little exhausted from all the changes and need a big, deep cleansing breath and assimilation before I start back in sorting, discarding and embracing new things.  There’s a lot of my real job stresses going on as well (not TPC - that’s a joy - my other real job).  This post is going to be more personal, so those of you just wanting your perfume news/reviews delivered without personal junk, this is a bad day to be reading here.

Looking back over this year, for those of you that aren’t aware, I’ve gone through a divorce, now have both of my sons gone from the nest, and I’m in my home alone, figuring out the New Plan since the Old Plan was an Epic Fail.  I do have a question, for those of you that have gone through this, can you really remain friends with your ex? I already have another ex, but he’s the father of my sons, so we’ve always been civil, just not best buddies.  This ex was a great friend for the last two decades of my life, even though he has been at many points a really shitty human being, so I’m a little more invested in getting this to a great friendship.  Can people live with the tenson of liking and hating a person at the same time?  I’ve been working on this for a year now and still not found an answer that feels comfortable, nor has the duality of my feelings changed where he is concerned. Maybe I’ll never find an answer that feels comfortable, and maybe I never should.  Life may be best lived in tension without the safety net of certainty. I know I work much better on that edge than anywhere else.

The life I’ve created now is one I love. It is full of friends and fun and joy.  I’ve gotten all healthy with yoga and juices and horseback riding.  I’m free to travel to the places I want to go after so many years of only going the places other people wanted to go.  I’m truly happy in a way I never thought possible.  I am truly living a life I don’t deserve and never for one second am unaware of how fortunate I am.

So I’m not sure if I’m at the big inhale or the big exhale in life, but I sure wish it would pass.  I’ve gotten used to being out and doing things and attacking life, and I just want to shake this malaise off.  I’ve got a couple of perfume choices that I keep thinking should help, but haven’t so far. The new Vanille Galante is just wonderful, and I’m one of the Feminite du Bois parfum partakers, as well – what a deliciously smooth skanky thing that is!  I’ve thought about breaking out the Apres L’Ondee or En Passant, but even though they fill me with hope, there is too much melancholy in there for where I am right now.  Ideas on something to shake me out of this perfume-wise, or just advise-wise?  Or if you’ve been through major life upheavals successfully, just tell me what’s normal so I won’t worry that I’m in some weird place now.

Until y’all give me the answers to perfume and life, I’m just going to content myself with Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies right from the freezer.

Oh! You can also help cheer me up by friending me on Facebook. Once you friend me, you can friend March and Lee, an I have a lits of tons of perfumistas that you can just keeping adding! I’ve got this strange thrill about having a lot of friends on FB, it’s a weird little obsession, but I’m just going with it for now since it seems harmless.

This is Buckethead, who I figure deserves equal time on the blog.  Buckethead is a nester.  When he’s sad, or sick, or otherwise feeling low, he collects all the soft blankety things (coats etc.) in the vicinity and piles them up on a chair or sofa.  Then he goes to sleep on them.  In this photo, he is asleep on top of: a) Diva’s blue fleece bathrobe; b) Enigma’s velour Washington Redskins throw; and some pillows.  On top of him is his beloved, disintegrating security blanket.

Meanwhile I was watching Beverly Hills Cop (what a great movie) which reminded me: who’s coming to ScentBar to play with us on the 14^th of March?  10 a.m.?  Franco needs a count so he knows how much stuff to buy.  Attendance is free!  You have three ways to rsvp:  contact Violetnoir on MUA; contact the Perfume Posse group on Facebook (some of you have already done this, I’ll email you to confirm); or Contact Us on the blog is my last choice as it then has to be sorted and forwarded.  I am so excited about this trip.  By the way, according to Beverly Hills Cop, if I want to be chic in LA I need either a three-piece suit (male attire) or a blond spiral perm and a denim jumpsuit.  Which is just that much funnier given that one of this month’s fashion rags (Vogue?) is full of similar jumpsuits, a look I never thought we’d see again.  I’m not buying the hammer pants either.

So.  That’s it. I am completely punting this post today perfume-review-wise.  Instead I am asking a question:  have your perfume-buying habits changed at all in the current economic meltdown?   If that question is too depressing to ponder, answer this one: is there a particular fragrance or makeup item you are coveting for now or this spring?   I am lusting heartily for this entire Barielle nail polish collection (okay, maybe not the yellow) and I also want something from Shiseido’s new Dick Page lipstick collection, as well as the drop-dead gorgeous Dolce & Gabbana lipstick in Dahlia, although these are deliberately, heavily scented and I am not sure how I feel about that.  Also, I’m on a spring crème nail polish jag – I just got China Glaze Secret Peri-winkle and Agent Lavender (squeee! so perfectly pale!) as well as Color Club Blue Light, another gorgeous pale blue.  Misa Jasmine is a lovely medium violet, but CG Shower Together was darker than I expected.  I’m thinking I need For Audrey, even if it is a little warmer blue than the Tiffany box (and it is.)  Any other pale blue, gray or green crème recs for us cool-toned gals?  Also, I’m as afraid of pink polish as I am of rose perfume, and do I need to get over myself?  I feel like most pink polishes just magnify the pink tones in my skin, which is why I don’t wear pink clothes either.  Is there a really flattering pink crème that doesn’t look … I dunno … too Barbie or too dull?  

I finally scored one of those cute vintage bottles of Shocking Schiaparelli on eBay. You know the one, in the glass case, the woman’s partial figure with flowers at the neck.  Notes on one site list hyacinth, bergamot, narcissus, and ylang-ylang; a middle note of rose, lily of the valley, jasmine, and peach; and a bottom note of sandalwood, patchouli, amber-musk and honey.  The one on the left is the reissued bottle from Roja Dove, I believe, but it looks pretty close to the vintage bottle I have.  The notes above are listed for?  I’m not sure if it’s the reissue or the original.  You go through the normal vintage thing when you put it in, some destroyed top notes,  some lily of the valley and narcissus - lots of narcissus.  The civet heats up that vintage odor that I read some reviews as saying reminding them of their spinster aunt’s closet (huh?  we all need more hot spinster aunts like that).  It’s floral and loud and  definitely of its era, when women could smell, well, a little weird and people interpreted that as forward and, well, shocking and kinda hot.   In the long drydown, it’s a really lovely, slightly dirty floral, which for its day may have made it more shocking that we perceive it today.  I think it’s lovely and am glad Roja Dove brought back the original.  Hopefully I’ll get to sniff it at some point to see how close it is.

 I can think of more shocking perfumes in vintage than Shocking, but I have to wonder if some of the civet is just gone from too much time in te bottle. I get a little of the dirty bits from it, but not on the scale that makes me what to fan myself.  For full-on over-the-top bitch-evil narcissus wear, Caron’s Narcisse Noir will always be my go-to favorite.  This is like Narcisse Noir Lite for the refined lady not quite ready to show her drawers.

Anyone else smelled this in either the vintage or reformulation, and I guess I quantify that as the Roja Dove reformulation and the other more mainstream edt reformulation.  Of all the vintage things you are worn or sniffed, which one do you find to be the most overtly erotic for women?

Happy Valentine’s day, everyone!   I got Feminite du Bois in the parfum concentration.  It is outstanding – the focus more on the plum than on the woods, although I find it layers beautifully with the original FdB eau de parfum.  It’s also exceedingly rich, and a little dab’ll do ya.  For anyone who wants to try it in extrait and can’t quite stomach the price – eBay sometimes has little purse parfum pens (“parfum stylo”) on there, 1.8ml, so you can try it out for less than an arm and a leg.  Maybe just a finger.  The Perfumed Court has it as well.

Please tell me – what delicious things did you get for Valentine’s Day?

Also, before I forget, here’s a link to Chandler Burr’s favorable coverage of several DSH scents – congratulations, Dawn!  And thanks for the heads up, Posse reader Pikake (here’s a link to her new blog on natural perfumery).

So.  On to perfume.

I got to thinking about Yves Saint Laurent’s iconic 80’s scent, Paris, after Olfacta’s thoughtful post on rose fragrances and how she decided they weren’t all horrors after all.  (Certainly a Rosine might change one’s mind about rose.)   Paris seemed like a good fragrance to revisit this time of year.  The notes (from Michael Edwards’ Perfume Legends) are mimosa, geranium, bergamot, mayflower, hawthorn, juniper, Damascus rose, May rose, violet, sandalwood, iris, amber and musk.

In Perfume Legends Sophia Grosjman, the nose behind Paris, talked about her fascination with rose scents and the still relatively new damascones she jammed into her initial draft of Paris for YSL – yet another argument supporting idea that many great perfumes are driven by an overdose of one ingredient.

Love it or loathe it, there’s no mistaking Paris for something else.  You might not be able to name it in a blind test, but if someone stuck it under your nose and said Paris, you’d say, of course!!  It doesn’t smell particularly like any other rose fragrance. There’s an enormous Phil Spector-esque wall of smell: tart, sharp, green and woody notes that draw attention from the rose without totally obscuring it.  It wasn’t until recently in my perfume obsession that I realized Paris was a rose fragrance.  (Interesting aside from Edwards’ book: in France the fragrance was marketed around the imagery of Paris itself, whereas the US rolled it out as a rose fragrance with less than optimal results, because I’m not the only person afraid of rose.)

Browsing The Guide recently, I came across a review by Tania Sanchez of Annick Goutal Rose Absolue that summed up brilliantly my problem — and apparently Tania’s problem — with many rose scents:  “I’m always disappointed by rose soliflores; the material seems impressively complex but too sour to enjoy, like those wines that taste like they’d rather be vinegar.”  Elsewhere (Caron Rose) she says, “all expensive rose soliflores boast of sourcing only the best natural rose essences to capture the beauty of the flower, but somehow they all tend to smell a bit like this: part lemon soap, part wine vinegar, part green (as in boiled vegetables).”  Well, amen, sister.   The roses I can tolerate get busy doing something else – they get weirder (Serge Lutens’ Rose de Nuit), manlier (Rosine’s Rose d’Homme) or at the other end of the spectrum they become delicate and ethereal rather than liquor-like (MDCI Rose de Siwa.)  Paris worked for me not due to less rose, but the sheer volume of the other notes.  It’s like standing right in front of the orchestra.

So off I went to try it – first at Nordstrom where they told me it was discontinued and tried to sell me their last shower gel (discontinued being SA-speak for “I’m terribly sorry, we no longer stock Paris, perhaps you might try Macy’s down the corridor.”)   They carry Paris at Sephora and Macy’s, which has the EDT and the EDP as well as some ancillary products like lotion.  I picked up the bottle and sprayed a little on, waiting for the scent I loved and remembered.

Which brings me to the wistful, sad part of my post, because … maybe we won’t always have Paris after all.  Has anyone tried Paris recently?  Maybe it’s my nose.  Or my skin.  Or old bottles of juice killed off under the lights.  But my first thought upon smelling the EDT at Sephora was, where’s the rest of it?  A test of the second and third bottles at Macy’s produced the same results.  I’m sure I wore the EDT, which is all I could have afforded, and in any case the EDP is a different animal – rosier and more vanillic. (The current EDP’s got an interesting, slightly animalic incense-y drydown, and I’m trying to decide if I could stagger through the first half hour for the payoff.)

Paris today feels thin and muted, like someone took out a restraining order on all the towering, tart florals and woods that made it unique.  Eventually I gave up and went on a grocery run to Trader Joe’s.  At that point I was wearing five test sprays from four bottles of Paris and realized (apologies to my fellow patrons) that’s several sprays too many.  The weird thing was, while it smelled horrible on my skin, I kept getting the occasional waft of the old familiar around me.  The next day I woke up, walked into my closet, and — boom, Paris! on the jacket I’d been wearing, although it was gone entirely from my skin — my skin, which soaks up scent like a sponge.  I asked Robin at Now Smell This and she said the current version smelled mighty thin to her too (here’s her review of Paris.)

I cannot, no matter how I try, separate Paris the fragrance from the time I wore it.  Paris owned the mid-1980s.  It went so well with Christian Lacroix bubble dresses and the champagne excesses that seem oh-so-sadly-familiar two decades later, particularly now that we’ve run off the cliff like Wile E. Coyote and it’s just a matter of seeing how far it is to the bottom.

In Perfume Legends, Grojsman cites Apres l’Ondee as an influence on her design – “the skeleton of a very creamy violet note.  Then I worked on the rose to put with it.”   I have always found Paris a wistful fragrance, and not just because of my nostalgia regarding it.  Roughly 25 years after its introduction, I can smell it again and appreciate both its strange, transcendent beauty and the feeling it leaves me with – a slight melancholy sense of unfulfilled dreams.

image: 6-year-old Hecate in the outfit she picked to wear for her Valentine’s Day parties.  She is a lovely, funny, quirky kid and she is definitely my valentine. (btw for recent alarmed readers: Hecate is her nom de blog.  I did not actually saddle my daughter with the name Hecate.  She shares her real name with a gorgeous fragrance, though.)

My memory dances and shimmies – I can’t trust its movements. In childhood, winter was a time of snow, outdoor adventures and breathing out ghosts over my face. On the walk to school, we’d shiver and stay warm by pulling lengthy icicles from gates and signposts, playing first Musketeers and then later, when I was all of 8, Kenobi vs. Vader. There’d be sheer pools of black ice on the pavement, and skids would end in success – a monumental speeding up across land that was no such thing, with a stumble back to terra firma – or failure – a bruised posterior whose tenderness would be an echoing reminder of the laughter we’d shared in the days to follow.

But these are highlights, moments that my memory has inked in luminous yellow and pink so brightly that the rest of my childhood text disappears under their dayglo brilliance. They’ve become posed portraits of my experience, rather than representative snapshots, and that’s why trust and memory, for me, are awkward companions.

In adulthood, winter disappeared somehow. No real snow, and a handful of frosts throughout the entire period that would melt before the day was halfway through. Instead, winter became a season of browns, umbers and dull greens, soggy underfoot, smelling of mushrooms and old leaves.

This year however, we’ve had more winter than I thought possible now, given our increasingly temperate conditions. Snow storms that have halted journeys. Last week, I had to turn home after my car decided the route I was taking along the road would be made more interesting by diagonal sliding. This weekend, floods have covered much of the countryside surrounding me, so that back routes are cut off and I’m in a land of lakes. I want log cabins to materialise beofre my eyes. They haven’t yet. Most rivers and streams have burst their banks, and the ditchwater dirge of the water is made glorious in the morning by winter’s etching on its surface. And, on a handful of days, the frosts or snow have lasted for more than a day. It’s actually been cold. Cold for here.

But the variability, the shifting from one unexpected element to another – snow storm, flood, snow storm, sunny ice day, mild dullness with lowering cloud, fog, sudden mists – is too much. It makes me yearn for simplicity: perhaps the endlessly democratic sunshine of southern California, or the true winter of the Sami inside the Arctic circle. And this yearning for simplicity is reflected in my daily habits too – what I am eating, what I am wearing (clothes), what I am wearing (scent).

In perfume, I’m generally a lover of the baroque, the bizarre, the scent that leads to olfactory shock, pleasure brought about by the unexpected. For every modern minimalist number in my collection, I have ten heavy syrups of kohl-lidded decadence.  Though today, I’m tired of those. I want clean. I want pure. I want constancy.

I’ve been wearing the marvellous Eau de Cartier, a summer favourite. Its parma violet hush is surrounded by the glitter of citrus (a glitter I could live without quite frankly, but fortunately it doesn’t last). If it could preserve only the middle notes as an elongated chord, it would perfectly capture my mood – green violet wood that whispers of its tranquility. Unfortunately, the drydown isn’t such perfection – a perfumey melange of musks and woods that nudges into a powdered thickness when what I want is something ‘like gold to aery thinness beat’. Still, it’s as close as I can get right now.

What do you turn to when simplicity calls? And can you recommend anything else? I’m guessing the new Vanille Galante might just fit the bill.

WINNERS! Expect an email from me, if I don’t hear from you first.

Voleur de Roses stolen by Pantera Lily.

Rocabar rocks out with pyramus.

Dzing! sings for hongkongmom.

Vetyver roots out Tommasina.

Bois d’Ombrie gets wood for Christine L.

Somehow my day just completely got away from me, and now I have to go to yoga class, won’t get back until late, and no time to do any sort of proper review to anything.  I am so sorry!

First, the winners of the last drawing I had for the sample of the Bond No. 9 Brooklyn are:  Arwen, pavlova, Amanda, Maitrey, Cheryl, dogloverinnm, and Joe.  Just hit the contact Us button over on the left and remind me that it’s a sample of Brooklyn that you’ve won.

I’m waiting for that Serge Cellophane thing to show up and the Hermessence Vanille Galant, so I sorta have my nose out of joint waiting for some things to sniff, and nothing else seems to jump out at me to even try and do a quick review on, and I can’t wear anything to yoga and report back later.

What I am doing is gardening shopping. I’ve got my new roses picked out for the revamped backyard, some old vintage roses with strong, overpowering scents.  I’ve ordered a Wisteria tree. Who knew?  I don’t want the vine, which kills everything in its path, but the tree looks promising.  Check back with me next year, and I’ll tell you if my fence is still intact.  Also got carpets of lavender coming and a ton of big old bearded iris from Schreiner, who has the most beautiful irises I’ve ever seen. All of those are planted around the pond/waterfall.

It just seems almost like spring, doesn’t it?  So please chime in on what are your spring perfume plans or other scented garden plans.  And if you comment, you’ll go in the draw for a sample of the new Hermessence Vanille Galante. I may even do a few entries.  It’s my very contrite apology for my very poor planning!

Thanks to all of you for participating last week in the Dawn Spencer Hurwitz Q&A post, she was thrilled with the feedback.  In the meantime we’re in our annual House of Ill (I’ve had sick kids home since last Tuesday) so here’s a quickie on my new DSH favorite comfort scents, which are certainly getting the workout right now. (“Skin” scents mean they wear extremely close to the skin on me with minimum sillage.)  Notes courtesy of DSH website. 

Lumiere (Holiday 2007) – Bergamot, Cardamom Absolute, Cinnamon Leaf, Coriander Seed, Nutmeg, Almond Milk (accord), Hazelnut, Rhum, Sweet Cream, Amber, Australian Sandalwood, Coffee Absolute, Oppopanax, Peru Balsam.  A soft, seamlessly blended fragrance that on my skin is milky spiced coffee without being sweet or gourmand – the balsam and sandalwood keep it comfort rather than foody.  A skin scent on me.

Special Formula X-treme (oil essence, there’s also a regular SFX) – another skin scent, this is DSH’s blend she uses to gauge your skin chemistry.  Enough customers liked the test fragrance itself that she sells it on its own.  Perfect on its own when you want a light, musky skin scent for layering to unsweeten something or give it a little more body.

Sensual Spice – Again, an extremely simple scent – notes are honey, nutmeg, vanilla, and that’s just what it smells like, although I’d have guessed a little clean musk at the base. 

Toast – “an ambery oriental that is warm, delicious and fun.”  Cinnamon bark, amber, moss, vanilla.   It must be the moss because the fun here involves the interesting base that keeps the fragrance from being cloying.  I’d have named this one Sensual Spice by the way – there’s something sexy about it.

Lush Honey – Bitter Almond, Muguet, Violet, Hazelnut, Honey, Honey Beeswax,, Ambergris, French Vanilla, Heliotrope, Musk, Tonka Bean.  This should probably come with a warning label.  It is intensely sweet the way honey is sweet, and fairly heady, and on the wrong day it’s a little Play-Doh on me (hey there, heliotrope!)  On the right day it’s like burying my face in some sort of dessert featuring nuts, phyllo and honey, without the caloric damage.  Delicious.  If all that sounds horrifying let me recommend instead…

Sweet Honey – Honey, French beeswax, musk.  A lighter, less cloying, charming honeyed musk that is a great skin scent.

Previous DSH favorites of mine in regular rotation:  Sienna, Mahjoun, Fete Nouvelle (an interesting almond/hay skin scent that is what I wanted L’Artisan Jour de Fete to be as opposed to the Play-Doh horror it actually is).  Of all I’ve listed, Mahjoun is probably the heaviest.   Blond Suede is a great sweet leather.  Finally, no post on DSH should fail to mention Cimabue, possibly her best known fragrance that is big and bold, and I know several of you mentioned DSH Piment et Chocolat and Tamarind/Paprika as favorites.

Finally, having read about Serge Lutens’ new scent on Grain de Musc, I think I want to try it!  Here’s hoping The Perfumed Court has a bottle on the way…

image: Avalon Spa, Portland OR, howstuffworks.com

      “Excuse me while I kiss the sky.” 

So! A random thread at Basenotes got me thinking – does anyone really need a 1 liter bottle of perfume for 8-9k U.S.? I thought I’d come here and ask a few thousand of my closest friends.

It is parfum concentration and has notes of orange blossom, jasmine, bitter almond, wood, vanilla and musk. It was created by Sylvaine Delacourt and Randa Hammani.  And I did love Quand Vient la Pluie and am so glad I worked out the split for that so I could sniff it and enjoy it. Worth it if the bottle could be split?  How many of you would be interested in that?  Price, including in decanting costs, bottle costs, shipping, etc., would probably run about $9-11 a ml, selling in splits of 8 ml, 15 ml or 30 ml.  If there’s enough interest so most of this bottle could be paid for, I think it could get done.  So jump in on comments if you would seriously be in and for how much and feel free to pass it on to anyone you think might be interested.  I just hate to have one of these 60-some bottles not out there for those who want to to sniff it.  The cost would wind up being about the same or a little less than Guerlain charges for an ounce of any of their pure parfums, about 300-330 per ounce.

A more than generous friend sent me the Soivohle Violets and Rainwater. It is pretty much straight up what’s in the title, beautiful, subtle violets and fresh rainwater.  It’s like crystal rain droplets with the sun hitting it. I can see why this is such a favorite.  It’s what I hope my weather turns out to be one day when it stops going from 10 degrees to 70 degrees.

Purple Love Smoke from Soivohle, on the other hand, is not as straightforward.  Violet, violet leaf and earth.  Wow, it is all darkness where Violets and Rainwater is light.  A rich, pulsing purple, I’m sorta thinking a decadent king - plush and overripe and slightly decayed – living in the 1970s with strobe lights and blotter acid. Between the two?  I can’t decide. PLS is perfect for your dark, poetic days when you want to lock yourself up with a tragic novel, a forbidden love and your inner sorrow.  V&R is perfect for the days when all is bright and lovely and no sadness can touch you.

Two great violet offerings. 

This weekend I finally watched Jane Eyre.  I didn’t expect to like it in the least.  All my life, I’ve just heard how overwrought the Bronte sisters are, so I avoided both of them, and I still need to read the book, but the movie captured beautifully the story, and I was enchanted.  So do I need to read the book, or can I just stop with the series?

Warning, if I seem a wee bit cranky over the next three days, I blame it on my juice fast. I’m trying this three-day vegetable and juice fast because?  Well, I don’t know, but I just feel the need for spring cleaning of several different varieties.

Purple haze all in my eyes, uhh
Dont know if its day or night
You got me blowin, blowin my mind
Is it tomorrow, or just the end of time?

In The Guide review of Patricia de Nicolai’s glorious fragrance New York, Luca Turin makes a comment that Guerlain ought to “buy Parfums de Nicolai, add PdN’s range to theirs, trash fifteen or so of their own laggard fragrances” and hire de Nicolai, a granddaughter of Pierre Guerlain, as their in-house perfumer.  Nothing would make me happier, particularly in light of Guerlain’s latest release.  On the other hand, maybe the curse of lameness that seems to have descended on Guerlain would contaminate PdN and we’d have nothing.

While we wait for Guerlain to get its act together, learning that Parfums MDCI hired de Nicolai to design two of their four new releases thrills me.  De Nicolai has done the as-yet-unnamed PN1 and PN2 (which is still being tinkered with); MDCI has already released Péché Cardinal, a heady peach-floral which has just appeared on LuckyScent, and the fourth, Riche Oriente, a green spicy floriental, is I believe coming along later in the spring.

I’ve been corresponding with Claude Marchal, the man behind MDCI, about these scents and other things – a possible lower-cost flacon among them – and before I go any further I feel I should point out MDCI’s sample set of generous decants of their first five fragrances for 55 euros (including tax and shipping and refundable with a bottle purchase) as one of the great deals of perfume sampling, in my opinion.   Regardless of whether any of the MDCIs is to your personal taste (although it’s hard to imagine you wouldn’t find something to love) it’s a joy to smell fragrances that seem born of a simple desire to turn costly ingredients into beautiful scents.  On the one hand the MDCI fragrances do not smell ambitious in the sense of boundary-pushing or rule-breaking.  On the other, you show me a set of five fragrances from one house in the last ten years that could stand up to these in terms of classic, over-the-top gorgeousness and wearability.  Les Exclusifs, but what else?

The notes of de Nicolai’s first fragrance for MDCI, the as-yet-unnamed PN1 are, courtesy of Claude Marchal himself:

Head notes: fine orange essence, pineapple, galbanum
Heart notes: ylang ylang , tuberose, orange blossom absolute, incense.
Bottom notes: ambergris, vanilla and musc.

Those notes on paper do not induce a mouth-watering desire in me.  Pineapple and galbanum?  Eh, no thanks.  I’ll pass.  But as it turns out, PN1 is stellar.  I’d put it in third place in the line in terms of my personal favorites, behind the gloriously indolic Enlevement au Serail and the woody-sexy Invasion Barbare, although Promesse de l’Aube is suddenly giving Enlevement a run for its money on my arm.

If if if.   If the orange in PN1 were any soapier/stronger.  If the pineapple were any sweeter.  If the galbanum were any greener/bigger.  If any of these these notes stuck out like a misfit puzzle piece then the whole top would fall apart like bad tulle on prom night.  As it stands, it’s like your first taste of some unfamiliar cocktail that leaves you thinking, that combination is genius!  Orange, galbanum and pineapple ought to show up for the Superbowl together, they make such a great team, and while they’re at it, they need to bring incense, because he’s holding his end up in the background.

PN1 leaves me temporarily handicapped because I walk around with my hand glued to my nose like some loon, compulsively sniffing while people take five steps out of their way to avoid me. The galbanum becomes almost grassy.  The incense is slightly peppery, the whole fragrance shifting subtly from fruits to flowers while maintaining that incredible sustained top note that goes on and on and on without ever becoming tiresome or shrill.  I would love to know how they pulled that off.

This smells very de Nicolai.  In general, her perfumes are not sweet.  I’m fonder of some of the PdNs than others, but they’re mostly grand, and having her work with Claude Marchal is a win-win for everyone as far as I’m concerned.

Claude wears PN1 all the time these days.  As he said in his email, an interesting and beautiful composition, with incredible turns, openings, undertones… I just cannot have enough of it.  Me neither.

* * *

For those who’ve been following the debate regarding the name Peche Cardinal, I have here from the house:  it is Péché (sin), my guess is Lucky can’t drop the correct accents in their headlines.  (I can’t type it either, FWIW — I had to cut and paste from elsewhere.)  Further, check out Mr. Marchal’s interesting explanation of the name:

 ”The jest here, for there is one (or at least an attempt) is a bit more than a play of words between “Péché” (sin) and Pêcher (peachtree).  The effect in French comes from the contradiction between “péché”, (sin), and “cardinal”: in French, when we talk of a “vertu cardinale” it means one of the four fundamental (hence cardinal, from the latin cardo which means “hinge”) Christian virtues: la prudence (prudence), la tempérance (temperance), la force (strength) et la justice (..justice!), which are completed by the three virtues, la foi ( faith), l’espérance (hope) et la charité (charity).

Here, ”cardinal” instead of being associated to ”very important, key, fundamental major”  virtues, is associated with…..SIN! (péché, which in french sounds like pêcher, or peachtree…).  So here we have a sin that one MUST commit! And the scent does contains some peach…

I don’t know if this works outside France, but to us it has a double, or triple meaning.”

image: MDCI website, illustrating the process of making the crystal bottle stoppers

Wander onto any discount fragrance website and you will find myriad choices of scents named Perry Ellis “something-or-other”. The one I’m writing about is the most recent simply titled release, and as far as I can tell, the only Perry Ellis scent available in the department stores. Don’t take my word for it; there could be various bottles hiding under counters and fetched from storerooms upon request, but when I went to Macy’s last week to check it out, there were no other Perry Ellises to be found.

The story of Perry Ellis the designer is a very interesting one. He started out in the mid-70s designing those horrid double-knit pantsuits my mother owned in every color imaginable. He then went on to start his wildly successful Portfolio line along with an equally popular menswear line. Accessories and of course, fragrances, followed soon after.

While I can’t say I wore any Perry Ellis clothing or fragrances in the early to mid 80s, I do confess to being cognizant of his existence. Even during my most hardcore grubby denim jacket-concert t-shirt-jeans-and-sneakers days, I was aware of his name courtesy of all the ads in the popular magazines. What I didn’t realize until recently was just how successful the Perry Ellis brand became posthumously: He died in May 1986 at age 46, and since then, his name has been kept alive in the industry via the eponymous award given out yearly to emerging men’s and women’s designers. Some of today’s most successful American designers got their start at the house of Perry Ellis: Isaac Mizrahi, Marc Jacobs (I actually forgot all about his infamous grunge collection for the brand in the early 90s), and Tom Ford. Today, there are about 40 Perry Ellis International stores in upscale outlet shopping locales, and there have been several additional attempts in recent years to revive the line with ready-to-wear collections, although those have not been well-received. On the perryellis.com website, there are few apparel choices for women; most of the available items are on clearance, and a wide variety on the men’s side. There is also a link to a corporate apparel site. As for fragrances, the new scent’s male counterpart is available as well as Perry Ellis 18, 360, 360 Blue and 360 White. For women, 18, 360 Red, Blue and White are for sale in addition to the newest scent.

Despite the dizzying array of Perry Ellis fragrances that have been released over the years, I’ll admit this new eau is the first one that ever piqued my interest. The older ones never grabbed me since they were mostly fruity/floral mishmashes, and there always seemed to be a Liz Claiborne scent lurking somewhere in the vicinity that smelled much more intriguing. When I entered the workforce in the late 80s, Liz Claiborne was my work wardrobe of choice, and so were her scents; maybe because my mother was generously footing the bill, or because I was secretly embarrassed by her love of those double-knit pantsuits of yesteryear.

When I smelled the PE scent strip in February’s issue of Allure, there was an appealing woodiness to it that I never found in any of the previous PE scents. Chalk it up to what I believe is the new trend of “friendly” woods in mainstream fragrances, thanks to Estee Lauder’s Sensuous. While Sensuous has some serious woods, it is also much sweeter and more complex. It hasn’t been sitting well with me lately because of its sweetness, and right now, I prefer PE primarily because it lacks the sweetness of Sensuous. According to Now Smell This, the notes are plum, apple, mandarin, muguet, white jasmine, gardenia, musk, amber and vanilla. I cannot identify any of these notes individually, but in concert, the scent starts out crisp, a little sharp, and almost refreshing. The woodiness begins to develop about an hour or so after application and warms up the scent considerably. If I had to guess, there is some sandalwood somewhere in the composition, because I absolutely do not get any amber or vanilla. The scent remains “clean” throughout, which typically does not happen when amber and vanilla are present. It is perfectly serviceable and easy to wear, and definitely falls into the inoffensive no-brainer category for me.

Perry Ellis Eau de Parfum is available now at Macy’s and macys.com. 50ml is $50.00, and 100 ml, $65.00; quite the bargain considering the exorbitant price tags on some of the newer, more upscale and niche releases. In addition, if you order from macys.com, the promotion code, SWEETIE, will get you free shipping and a Valentine fragrance goody bag with a $75.00 fragrance purchase.

 Notes are cardamom, geranium leaves, cedarwood. graperfruit, juniper leaves. South American guaiacwood and leather.  It’s got a nice, slightly discordant open with the cardamom and geranium, definintely veering more masculine in the spicy woods drydown, but not butch.  The leather is a is nice touch, keeping it interesting in the contrast between it and the wood notes.  It’s definitely different from a lot of the Bond scents – not amped up with patch, and there’s zero floral in this.  It’s not hefty, but the wood and leather gives it weight and substance, just not overpowering.  It wears nicely on me, but I think this would be great on a guy.  A little disclaimer, I think my mystery alcohol note is in this – there’s one little area of this scent that smells of alcohol, it could be the guaiac, though – there’s just a gray area that I can’t sniff into.  I applaud the departure, as I did with the Andy Warhol Silver Factory scent, but I’m still not sure this is worth that amount of money, though the bottle is pretty darn cute.

Winners of the PdN #1 and Riche Orient samples are:  Natalie and Jan V.  Just click on the contact us button over on the left, remind me what it is you’ve won, and I’ll get the samples out to you.

Bond sent me some of the Brooklyn to sample, so I’d like to give away samples of that as well.  I probably have about 7 samples in this little bottle. So drop a comment, and I’ll draw for seven people to win a sample of the new Bond Brooklyn to try.

I know many of you are fans of Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, as I am.  I love her comfort scents in particular, and I have reviewed a number of her fragrances on here.  Dawn emailed me recently and we got to chatting back and forth and one thing led to another and … thus today’s post.

Dawn will be stopping by during the day to check out your comments and add her own responses, so this is your chance to ask her questions!  Also please note her request for your input on streamlining her site and her line.  She knows she has some hardcore fans on the Posse and values your opinions.

Finally, Dawn offers us a permanent discount: 10% off DSH purchases online with the code posse (yay!)  I had a wee bit of difficulty pasting her Q&A in due to formatting errors on my end, so apologizing in advance if I have to go back and edit something to correct it if she points it out to me.  Here’s the link to her website.

 * * *

Q: Which fragrance in your extensive line are you most proud of, and/or which would you most like to draw attention to as possibly an overlooked gem?

A: That’s a REALLY difficult question to answer.  In terms of ‘most proud’, I’m not sure (It’s kind of like choosing a favorite child) but I can name some scents that I really love and wear often: Rose Vert, Cafe Noir, Tamarind/Paprika, Arome d’Egypte, Minuit, Ambre and Menthe Moderne. Of course I’m also very proud of the aroma-colors.  I love this exploration and creating perfumes that are multi-sensory. In terms of hidden gems, I would have to mention:  Parfum de Grasse (which is such an elegant, classical floral), blue-green: Arnica (one of the most unusual refreshing green scents I’ve ever worn), Violetta di Murano (a violet Chypre perfume based on an unusual violet flower I found on the island of Murano), Essenza dell’Ibisco (an incredibly sexy, full-grown woman’s floral bouquet) and Umber: bois de rose (an earthy, ’stormy rose garden’ scent based on my own eglantine rose).  These are perfumes that seem to have a more eclectic appeal but I think are wonderful.

Q: Among perfume fans, you’re admired for your work with roses, spices and comfort scents.  (I also like that your comfort scents aren’t super sweet bakery items.)  Do you feel you have a particular affinity for these?

A:  I am not sure if I feel a specific affinity for comfort scents but I do love the concept of perfumes being influenced by foods/drinks.  Not only do many foods have wonderful aromas that would be great to experience anytime in a perfume, they can be really complex and interesting.  Also, foods carry the notion of comfort; aromas we are used to and love; that make us feel good.  In terms of designing gourmand (usually where comfort scents would be found) scents, I prefer a bittersweet approach or a just touch of cream, sweetness or syrup; hints of foody items but not really a full blown ‘cake scent’ per se.  That’s just my taste.

Coffee is one of my favorite gourmand notes and so I created “Cafe Noir” back in 1997 (before the trend really took off) based on it.  I think it was my first gourmand perfume, actually.   It has an authentic warmth, depth and richness from the coffee absolute but wears like a perfume with added balsam, spice and floral notes.  It’s a sexy, smoky and wonderfully sophisticated bittersweet gourmand.  I guess you could say it’s ‘my’ comfort scent.  I’m also truly delighted to know that many of my clients feel comforted by a scent I have made; it makes doing this work all the more meaningful.

Q: I find your simpler scents layer quite nicely.  Do you ever layer scents, or recommend layering? Any suggestions?

A: Yes, I do recommend it and even encourage my clients to experiment and feel creative with perfume layering.  The DSH New Creations collection was designed with this concept in mind and even comes with a layering chart to help with making decisions of what to layer to good effect.  I have been considering creating a master layering chart that would incorporate every scent possibility, even among different collections.  It’s a pretty large undertaking, so I’ll have to get busy!

I have two recommendations to any one who wants to get into layering but doesn’t feel confident as to how to start:

1) layer a simple scent with something more complex.  Two complex perfumes together have more chances to clash, but shifting or accentuating a note in a complex perfume has a way of feeling different without making a ‘mess’.  (for example: add a layer of bergamot to freshen a deeper scent, sandalwood to add some richness or a light musk to soften a stronger scent).

2) layer a brighter scent with a deeper/warmer scent.  These two styles tend to balance well with each other instead of too much of one thing or another.

Q: You also do dupes/interpretations of some classic scents, in addition to your own vintage-style creations.  Was this driven by your own interest in vintage scent styles, or customer demand?  To you, what smells “vintage?”

A:  Both customer demand as well as my personal interest.  Many of my clients have found me, I think, because I have always offered chypres, animalics and orientals, even when the trends in commercial perfumes were moving away from them.  Back when I had the Essense perfumery in Boston, we sold some “designer dupes” in oil format to accommodate our local clients and tourists looking for their scent in an oil or a better bath/body care option.  We also offered reformulations of cherished discontinued scents.  That is how it started; with just a few options.  Since then, I have added a number of interpretations of classic perfumes, especially from perfumers that I greatly admire, such as Jacques Guerlain, Francois Coty, Ernest Beaux and Edmond Roudnitska.   It’s as close to walking in their shoes and thinking like them that I can get.  This process has spawned a full blown passion for vintage scents to the extent that I am currently working on a Perfume Museum so that I can foster further interest in vintage styles of perfume design and greater awareness of the history and art form of perfumery.

There is another aspect to my interest in vintage perfumes: they are designs with larger proportions of naturals, including natural animalic notes, combined with selected synthetics. I feel that they represent a better balance than many of today’s commercial perfumes in terms of their beauty, complexity, artistry and allure.

To me, there is an inherent warmth associated with these older perfume styles that make them smell ‘vintage’.   They have an ambery, balsamic, sometimes mossy and animalic accord in the drydown that is pretty consistent in most vintage perfumes.  There is also a tendency toward an aldehydic topnote and a sweet, powdery feel in the drydown that can be considered ‘vintage’ as well, such as Chanel no.5, Arpege, Chypre, l’Origan or one of my faves, Fleeting Moment by Balenciaga.

Q: Your website is really extensive — some would say intimidating, due to the sheer number of scents.  If you could ask the Posse Blog readership for input, what would you want to know?

A: Well, it’s true; I have heard to my dismay that the site is overwhelming.  I have an insatiable need to create but I might have created a monster!   So, I have been contemplating what perfumes/notes I should cut and which to keep so that I can ‘prune the site’ into something more manageable and enjoyable.  I guess that my question to readers would be which scents should I NEVER consider discontinuing?  There are some beloved scents that may not always make the highest sales numbers but I don’t want to get rid of any scent that is cherished.  Is there anything you wouldn’t miss at all? {March asks: do y’all find the website confusing, or is it just me?  Of course the longer I’m on there the less confusing it is.  Has anyone used the search feature?  How did you like it?}

Q: Finally, can you tell me more about your “X” scent?  I found it really fascinating.  On me it goes through phases of being something like a drugstore musk, only its perfect, idealized version — with alternating whiffs of what I’d describe as sweaty male armpit, only in a really good, sexy way.  What do you learn about perception and skin chemistry from X?

A: Formula X developed out of working directly with clients; creating custom signature scents.  As a part of a scent development, I would analyze the reactivity of my client’s skin by trying different notes and judging the shift and then I realized that some materials I had been working with tended to do this better than others while some would actually amplify the scent of a person’s skin.  These notes (I never tell which they are) were used to create Formula X.  It is, in fact, the shift that tells the most about the wearer’s skin and how that chemistry can affect a perfume, any perfume.

Your skin, from your description, sounds to me like you have ‘musky skin’.  This means that scents tend to seem stronger on your skin than another’s and that if there is musk in the design that it will be more noticeable.  It also means that I would recommend that you stay away from the ozone/marine family as they will be too strong. I recommend warm, soft chypres; soft florals and spicy perfumes that aren’t too intense as possibly your best families.  {March says:  was that ever spot on.  Dawn, have you been browsing in my closet?!?}

I should also say that I released Formula X as a possible product/scent to wear since many of my clients said that they just loved the way it smelled on their skin; just as is.  it really is the perfect ‘non-scent’ perfume, when you just want a little something but you aren’t into being really ’scented’, if you know what I mean.

* * *

Thanks very much for your time, Dawn, and for offering to drop by here during the day to check on comments.  Readers, Dawn’s in Boulder and thus on Mountain time.  Finally, look for my reviews of some new-to-me DSH comfort scents in the next couple weeks, thanks to all your input on comfort scents posts I have found some winners!

image: DSH’s cool-looking studio in Boulder, dshperfumes.com

 Okay, give it a minute for the page to load, LOTS of pictures!

You knew this day was coming – it’s Patty’s Pets Day!!! Well, I will have a couple of review and a draw as well.  Hey, I won’t inflict pain without giving back.  Ready?    Oh, come on, you know you want to!

 That’s Buddy, my almost 5-year-old lab, who thinks the camera steals his soul.  Even at the distance I took this picture, he is jittery, but he’s in his chair, what could go wrong?  Lynus, the baby kitten, right out of the picture, who rolls through and ousts Buddy out of his chair about 30 seconds later. I’ve never seen a 3-pound cat so able to terrify and unseat a 70-pound dog from his very own comfy chair.  Yes, my furry friends are spoiled beyond belief.

Boo, my big, black cat, refused to participate in pictures this time and for the previous 9 years of his existence.  He does exist and sleeps right next to my nose every night. He waits until I go to sleep to take that position, which leaves me waking up about 10 times in the night either peeling Lynus off my head or moving Boo from my breathing airways so I don’t suffocate.

This is Rex the Magnificent, formerly Tyrannosaurus Rex Kitty as he was single-handedly wrecking my house when he was a kitten.  He is my perfect and beautiful Toyger, and if you ever put even one finger on his fur, you would know why he is magnificent. There is nothing in the world that I have felt as soft as Rex, and that includes my uber-soft blankets that everyone that comes into my house fawns over.  His personality is what makes him one of the coolest cats I have ever known.  Indifferent, affectionate, maddening. I, of course, adore him.

Lynus and Vinnie, inseparable. Lynus won’t get in pictures by himself, unless it was the pictures he let me take when he was an ornament on the Christmas tree (in my Facebook pictures).  This is the most hardcore cat I’ve ever run across.  All animals back down to Lynus, and he’s only about five months old.  He’s my youngest son’s cat, who I “temporarily” am keeping as they all decided they really shouldn’t have a cat in the dorms.  Wherever there is trouble in this house, Lynus is nearby.  I don’t know how Lynus can ever leave now – he’s wormed his way deeply into my heart and Rex’s and Vinnie’s so completely, he can’t ever leave.  Boo and Buddy would happily pack his cat toys and escort him to the door today, however.

Vinnnniiiieeee Barbarino!!!!!!!!!  Look at that chest and those wrinkles.  His breeder wants to evaluate him as a show dog when he’s six months – he was pick of a really great litter. And while I’m laughing about becoming one of those Best in Show people ( she needs the Busy BEEEE!!!!!) , he is a natural ham, outgoing, social, and outrageously funny.  I know now why people fall in love with English Bulldogs.  

 Now, nobody get offended at the caption. When Vinnie comes in from outside, he muscles around the house, looking for his kittehs and just gets all discombobulated and grumped if they’re napping and nowhere to be found. 

Vinnie also kisses. When you pick him up, he hugs you with his paws and kisses you by putting his flat little mouth and nose right on yours.  There’s nothing quite like a grunting, groaning bulldog wriggling around in your arms.

That’s the Perfume Posse Pet Parade for this Tuesday.  Perfume? Oh, yeah!  Let’s talk about and do a give-away on two more of the new MDCIs.  I don’t have notes for the Riche Orient, which I believe is going to be the name of the perfume, but it is a simply gorgeous spicy oriental.  I mean, yeah, it’s been done before, but it’s like the best of all of the big orientals, then tamped down so they don’t swallow you whole, and it comes out this great, elegant, hot oriental.

MDCI’s PDN #1, which is the working title for that perfume until it gets a name has top notes of fine orange essence, pineapple, galbanum; heart notes are ylang ylang , tuberose, orange blossom absolute, incense; base notes are ambergris, vanilla and musc.  This one takes a while to develop, so be patient with it.  It’s very much all orangey on the open, but the ambergris and musc show up pretty quickly, along with the incense notes, to heave it into a much more interesting direction than breakfast fruit.  I’m not sure any description I can write will do justice to this.  It is soft and heady and has a luminous quality that seems to just make it glow. When I first smelled this in Paris, and I admit to not having put it on since, my attention was distracted so completely by Peche Cardinal and Riche Orient that I didn’t quite get a focus on this.  Rectifying that today, I am completely enchanted - it is gorgeous, understated, and it wraps around your nose and brain slowly,  and it’s a scent I could easily sink into regularly.

But let’s let a couple of you find out for yourself. Drop a comment in, and I’ll give away  a couple of sets of samples of these two.

Winner of the Liz Zorn sample set of Grand Canyon, Underworld and Tobacco & Tulle is:  JAntoinette.  Just click on the Contact Us Button on the left, make sure to remind me what it is you’ve won so I get you the right thing!

Thanks to everyone for playing.  Now,  back to pets.  How many pets do you have?  Dogs/cats/gerbils/birds/snakes?  How many are too many?  I’m pretty sure at 3 cats and 2 dogs, I’ve hit capacity just to juggle animals until the babies are more grown, but for some reason, the more I have, the less work it seems (except cleaning the catbox and buying cat and dog food), they all just seem to amuse each other more and provide me with hours of entertainment.