As you probably already know if you read Monday´s post, I dug up my bottle of Van Cleef & Arpels First when I was rooting around looking for fragrances that reminded me in some way of the new Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss.  I enjoyed my revisit of First so much that I thought it deserved its own day, because my sense is it´s one of those classics that has fallen through the cracks and doesn´t get the attention it deserves from the perfume community.

I do go on and on today, so in case you can´t read much further than this: in a larger sense, this post is about my experience of falling in love with a fragrance I didn´t much care for initially.  Many of us have learned the hard lesson that some of the scents we dislike at the outset (although there´s often something compelling about them, as opposed to craptastic) end up being scents we come to treasure.  So if a fragrance you´ve smelled haunts you, even if you hated it: do yourself a favor and don´t give up just yet.

According to Michael Edwards´ Perfume Legends, a reference book I love which I hear is now out of print, sadly — there´s one used on Amazon for $340, God help us… where were we?  Oh, yes. First was created for Van Cleef & Arpels in 1976, and done by Jean-Claude Ellena  — his second major perfume commission (the first being Sisley´s Eau de Campagne in 1974).  The idea of a jeweler doing a perfume was something of a radical idea, apparently, with detractors saying it would never sell.

Notes via Perfume Legends are bergamot, blackcurrant buds, mandarin, jasmine, narcissus, aldehydes, Turkish rose, ylang-ylang, cloves, sandalwood, vanilla, musk, tonka bean, amber.

First is a difficult fragrance for me to appreciate.  I have trouble with aldehydes; they can seem either too powdery or too sour (or both.)  Going back and looking at my mini-review from some time ago, I was amused to see that I repeated the same idea in Monday´s comments – the initial blast of First smells like a glammed-up disco fragrance, something that is very much not me at all – too dressy and too louche, simultaneously.

So why did I fall in love with First?  When I look at my notes jotted down over several sessions, I kept coming back to the overall idea of the sun coming out from behind ominous clouds.   The first ten or twenty minutes are sharply aldehydic and formal to me, and my guess is any number of folks who are not fans of aldehydes or green notes have taken a whiff of that and promptly given up.  But hang in there, people!  (Hey, if you like the top, so much the better.)  Watching the opaque sharpness of First´s opening notes give way to the jasmine in its heart is, in my opinion, one of the most glorious transitions in perfumery.  There´s a point in the shift from the top to the heart notes that´s particularly moving; it smells like champaca to me, both floral and resiny.  Even knowing how it unfolds doesn´t dim my sense of being in the throes of a revelation.  The sweet florals of the heart linger, cradled by the sandalwood, musk and amber of the base.  The drydown is stunning, with the spicy sandalwood offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and amber.

Jasmine lovers — take note.  “First is about jasmine,” says Ellena in Perfume Legends.  He goes on to talk about its importance to him (“Compare Sophia Grojsman´s work with roses; she´s into roses, I´m into jasmine.”)  So why does the sun come out in First?  Ellena jammed in a huge amount of Hedione, or methyl dihydrojasmonate, derived from a molecule found in jasmine absolute and patented by Firmenich in 1962.  Ellena reports that Hedione was used in much smaller quantities in Eau Sauvage in 1966, and that he put ten times the amount into First.  Hedione has a sort of solar effect on fragrances; Victoria of Bois de Jasmin in her review of First describes Hedione as “a material which has a subtle scent on its own, but in combination with flower notes, especially jasmine, its dazzling qualities are brought to life. The flowers kissed by Hedione unfold in translucent layers, with the composition preserving its clarity, while attaining wonderful complexity.”

Ellena had the center of the fragrance but kept trying to extend its boundaries, ultimately stretching it in two directions – he upped the dosage of the bitter narcissus/cassis/mandarin at the top, and the musk and amber at the bottom, to give the scent the longevity that his clients wanted.   Quoting from Perfume Legends, Ellena said he was told, “Make something very nice.  Afterwards we´ll talk about the price.”  Ellena talks about how much this freedom meant to him; apparently there´s not much of that going around these days.

Fans of JCE´s less baroque scents for Hermes, particularly the Hermessences, might find a sniff of First informative.   First feels as deliberately constructed and ornate as a Faberge egg, and it would be tempting to dismiss it as something very much of its time and, as such, a little dated.  The soft, surreal radiance of the heart of First pretty much ends that line of thinking.  In Perfume Legends, Ellena says First has become an archetype – “People say, this fragrance smells like First, or it came from First.”

I have the EDT, which can be found ridiculously cheap (under $30 online.)  I´m really thinking I should spring for the EDP, and I bet the parfum is stunning.  There are also a number of flankers (First Love, First Pour l´Ete, etc.) none of which sound interesting to me except possibly First Jasmin de Chine.  Has anyone tried any of these?  Finally, I´m looking forward to the Collection Extraordinaire, although … do those bottles remind anyone of another collection?  Yeah, me too.

March

Okay, I finally have the little devils in my hands.  I’m not sure why I always rush for the Guerlain new releases so quickly. Hope maybe?  Hope that they’ll hit something magical again like Double Vanille or Bois d’Armenie or even – Yes, I know, I’m crazy – another Jicky or Mitsouko.

As far as the bottle size. I look at this two ways, and can’t decide which is worse or better. Though the price is in the neighborhood of the La Matiere line, $200′ish, at least you get 200 mls in the bottle instead of 75.  The other way I look at it is that they could have put them in a 75 ml bottle for $100, but more likely is that they would have put them in a 75 ml bottle for $150.  Hermes does this crap too.  100 ml bottle is $120. 200 ml bottle is $200.  I mean, seriously?  Oh, well, they clearly are marching to the beat of their own marketing people with these choices.

Marina reviewed these on Monday.  I spritzed New York first, just based on Miss Marina’s thinking it was the most interesting.  Notes are narcissus, roses, daffodils, plum blossom, cherry blossom; fir cinnamon, cardamom, vanilla and orange.  This is a wearable Winter Delices for me. The florals balance out all of the spices and fir, which are so over the top in Winter Delices, and it renders them soft and warm instead of whacking you in the face with a fir tree and a cinnamon stick. It definitely has a nice smoky leather note that is enchanting and just about right for those of you that like leather, but don’t want to smell like you’re outfitted head to toe in rawhide.  I definitely do like this one and will happily wear it on those days I don’t want to be a dominatrix, which is most days, kinda.

Moscou has notes of fir, white musk, mimosa, lilac, incense, rum, saffron, fruits (cranberry, redcurrant, raisins, plum), bergamot, lemon,  absinthe, almonds, chocolate, vanilla and  tonka bean.  Marina thought it was Flowerbomb lite. I sorta get that because it leans sweetish, but they added in a lot of gourmand notes to make this a great floral gourmand, and on my skin it veers way off into a lovely gourmand territory instead of sweet flowers.  I seriously do like this one.  It’s got the perfect balance of a gourmand – rich enough, but not so sweet that you’re gaining weight smelling it.  The saffron, I think, really saves it on all counts.  This is my favorite of the three, hands down. Not because I like the notes so much better, but I think they did a great job ot blending them and rendering it a compulsive sniff on my hand.  My nose has been glued there since I put it on, it’s just charmingly gourmand.

Tokyo has notes of jasmine, violet, Hinoki cedar and green tea.  It’s a great floral woody tea.  It’s my least favorite of the three. Not because it ‘s a bad scent, but I just don’t think it’s very memorable.  I like it well enough, it’s well executed, and it’s a fairly perfect spring/summer scent or just a scent you’d like to wear to an office or wedding when you don’t want your scent to wear you.  I don’t get much jasmine in it, it’s way heavier on the wood and tea.  It is fresh without having that “fresh” nasty smell at all. So I do give them props for that. At least Guerlain knows how to make an open, fresh perfume without resorting to the tampax fresh accord that is prevalent in every nook and cranny of the world.

I do have enough in my sample set to do a giveaway of one set of samples to a commenter.  So of all the new Guerlains in the last 10 years that they have released, which are your favorites?    Or which do you believe to be the most Guerlain-esque, if any, or do you think the whole house has just crumbled into ridiculous?

Patty

I´m not sure exactly what I was expecting when I sniffed the new Estee Lauder Private Collection Jasmine White Moss, but it wasn´t what came out of the bottle and landed on my arm.  I scuttled home and did some online research, which made things clearer – the scent is (allegedly, I take all this with a grain of salt) an unfinished formula of Estee Lauder herself from the 1980s, completed by granddaughter Aerin – and can´t you just see her huddled there, over the beakers?!?  Anyway, once I had this info, things started to fall into place.

Upon my first sniff of Jasmine White Moss, I thought:  hello, Azuree! (The 1969 original, not the new Soleil one.)  I dug some of that up, but that´s not quite it.   The opening notes of Jasmine White Moss are closer, I think, to the original Chanel Cristalle EDT.

Notes are mandarin, blackcurrant bud, galbanum, bergamot, jasmine sambac, violet, orange flower, orris, ylang-ylang, patchouli, vetiver and white moss mist (a Lauder exclusive) and it’s categorized as a green floral chypre.  If “white moss mist” is the Lauder secret sauce that´s going to replace bad old oakmoss, hey – it´s gorgeous.  Congratulations, chemists hidden behind door number three!

The opening of Jasmine White Moss is astringent and dry, dry, dry, reminding me both of Cristalle and Azuree´s drydown.  Like the other fragrances I´ve named, it makes me think of an elegant woman smoking a cigarette (did Estee smoke?  Coco did.  A lot of their classic scents go great with cigarettes).  Then I dug up my Van Cleef & Arpels First, and while Jasmine White Moss doesn´t have quite the same everything-but-the-kitchen-sink feel to it, I definitely get the same balance between the mossy elements and the sweet ones.  Indeed, a quick check of First reveals many of the same notes as Jasmine White Moss – although, what isn´t in First?  Also, First is spicier and sharper and … wow, people, someone stage an intervention, because First is really growing on me.  First is the sort of big-shouldered 1970´s Statement Fragrance I have admired rather than wanted to wear.  Until now, I guess.  (Six hours later: my goodness, First’s drydown is gorgeous,  it needs its own review.)

Which leads us back to Jasmine White Moss and my ultimate lack of enthusiasm.  As it dries down, I lose most of the moss, galbanum, patch and anything else that would evoke a green chypre. The jasmine (which is very clean), orange flower and ylang dominate the drydown, which is soft and sweet and, I´m afraid, a little tepid for me.  It smells “modern” in that peculiar, safe way mainstream perfumery does – a little spicy, some sweet florals, a slightly sour finish that makes me wonder if their Lauder musk is lurking in there.  It´s also, and this is weird, the teensiest bit edible – orange almond shortbread?

EDIT IN AFTER THIS WAS POSTED, PROMPTED BY COMMENTS:  in theory this should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway — we perfume freaks are clearly the target market for this scent, and I for one am incredibly grateful (and a little surprised) that something this “mature” was even made.  My daughters backed away from me in the car when I waved my arm at them the first time I tried it, which is an excellent sign; why the hell should everything smell like it was made for high school girls?   I hope the thing sells like hotcakes, and fake oakmoss (fauxmoss?) becomes the new pink pepper, although I’m not holding my breath.  Anyway, Estee Lauder — thanks for the pleasant surprise I received when I sprayed it on my arm.

In the end, it´s my head-to-head (arm-to-arm? nose to nose?) comparison to good ol´ Azuree, Cristalle and First that leaves me shrugging my shoulders at Jasmine White Moss.  Whether you tilt your tastes towards aldehydes, galbanum or oakmoss, this particular vein of beloved old-lady fragrances has a signature, and that signature, ladies and gentlemen, is moxie.  It is assertiveness.  It is trouble on the hoof. It is take-no-prisoners, stiletto-heeled attitude.  Starting off smelling like Liquid Danger and then drying down to a cross between Mariah Carey M and a plastic scented My Little Pony reeks mostly of disappointment.  I bet you can get Azuree and/or First online for less than fifty bucks.  Or how about some Norell?  Or the original Private Collection, or Jacomo Silences?  Feel free to name your own additions, but any of these scents have more personality and interest than the Lauder after the first half hour.  It´s not that the Jasmine White Moss is terrible.  It´s just been done, and done better, elsewhere, for less money, in my opinion.   No offense to those of you who’ve found a new love; remember, I really liked Amber Ylang, which most everyone thought was a snooze.

Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss is slated for release in July, but is already at Nordstrom and I assume will pop up at Saks and wherever else they´re selling the other two scents in the Private Collection.

PS Lipstick Freaks — come play on yesterday’s pink lipstick post, In the Pink!

March

We´ve done our part to promote Red Lipstick Love on this blog.  I think a post on the fabulousness of pink lipstick is overdue.

Pink can be harder to pull off than red lipstick; the wrong pink is aging, or juvenile.  I’m old enough I avoid pink frosts and glitter like the plague.  When I say “pink,” I´m referring  to the dimension between red and the browny-pinky-taupey lippies we refer to as YLBB (your lips but better.)  YLBBs brighten your complexion, and the lipstick may be visually detectable, but the effect is lipcolored, whether it´s your actual lipcolor or not.  I and others use YLBBs to correct our liptones a little – my lips are really blue, and not in a good way.  A very slightly warm YLBB diminishes my been-in-cold-water-too-long blues.  Other women with washed-out no-colored lips (your lips may lose color as you age) use YLBBs to bring their lips back into proper perspective.  It doesn´t have to be YLBB lipstick, either.  I know ladies who use YLBB pencils and liners, alone or over lipgloss (pencils can be drying) to get the same effect.

The way coloring (lip and face) affects the appearance of a lippie can´t be overstated.  I was fascinated when Friend A, a fair-skinned blonde with brown-toned natural lips, picked up a new tube of her “regular standby” pink she wears all the time.  On her lips it´s a soft, friendly shade – sort of a pale bubblegum pink without being too girly.  In the tube?  It´s a hot pink, like NARS Schiap.  On me with my blue lips, it´s a laughably lurid fuchsia, the sort of shade I´d wear if I were … I don´t know, 19 years old and wearing a rubber dress to a sex party at Hef´s house?  My point being, try before you buy, and don’t be surprised if the effect on your lips is totally different than someone else’s, even if you consider your skin tones to be kind of similar.

I am going for a soft look when I wear pink, I don´t use any liner (pink, taupe or otherwise) with these, I think pink lined lips can look … hard (cheap? Maybe that´s the word I´m looking for).  Whereas lined red lips look finished.  Feel free to argue with me, I´m not a makeup artist or expert.

Also, if you ever feel like your lipstick’s too pink, apply a quick swipe of taupey-nude lippie or pencil on top to tone it down.  Bobbi Brown gloss in White is also excellent for this purpose, I always have a tube for emergencies (it´s called White 1, and it dials down the wattage on pinks and reds nicely).  More than one makeup artist has said to me that they pretty much never use one shade of lipstick, so have fun experimenting with layering.  If it´s awful you can wipe it off!

Finally, those of you who bought lipstick during the Red Lip Feeding Frenzy on here and have now shoved those tubes into the back of the drawer until the first frost – red lips are still all over the fashion rags, even for summer.  A heavy red lip doesn´t work so well in face-melting heat, but if you use your finger as an applicator, you can lightly dab your red lipstick onto clean, buffed (use a washcloth or your toothbrush) lips, add a little gloss et voila – a soft, pretty popsicle pink-red perfect for summer.

So here´s a random list of some of my favorite pinks, with the stipulation outlined above that my lip/face coloring (fair skinned, pink undertones, blue-ish lips) affects the results.  Your Mileage May Vary.   Be sure to mention your coloring and favorites in comments, along with anything else you’d like to say about pink lips!

I lost my pink lip virginity with Bobbi Brown Peony lip sheer, a soft pale pinky-brown shade that is clearly pink rather than YLBB and of course appears to be discontinued (welcome to the world of lipstick!)  Bobbi puts brown in most (all?) of her pinks, which makes the line a nice place to start if you´re looking for something less bold, although some people find them too drying.  FYI – I just checked and Peony is in their Rose Lip Quad with three other great-looking shades, no glitter(? pictured at left, Peony’s in the upper left corner, the one on the right might be shimmer) and not too girly, I might have to check it out, looks like a good starter set for pink lipstick virgins if the tones work on you.  The pink quad looks a little girly to me, at least in the online images.

Poppy King´s Lipstick Queen Rose Sinner is too dry, even for me, but my gosh it´s a gorgeous color – a matte, dark rose petal pink that catches the eye of men who dig lipstick (and believe me, they´re out there.)  I wear it to parties and get hit on, but it´s less of a statement than red.  I apply over lip balm and check my lips after an hour to make sure it hasn´t caked.  Extraordinary lasting and lip-staining power, even over balm.  Saint Pink is my sheerest pink, emollient and close to a pink-toned lip balm.  Nice on its own (tones down my blue) or slicked over a darker shade. Saint Rose is a stunning, glossy dark neutral toned rose with good coverage, very moist but doesn´t travel.  Finally, I rebought Lipstick Queen Medieval after sending it back during my red binge.  No, it´s not bright; it´s a soft cherry popsicle red stain that I´ve taken to slicking over my other lippies in the car when the color needs shine and refreshing.

The newish Shiseido lipstick range by Dick Paige has some fantastic colors.  I can´t pull off the Cerise, but those of you who like megawatt pinks should check it out, it looks gorgeous on darker skin tones.  Bubblegum is also a slammin´ shade if you like a fun pink.  Their formula is super-moisturizing and looks great on.

Finally, as several of you know, months ago I fell in love with the images of the Dahlia lipstick from the new Dolce & Gabbana makeup line.  Dahlia´s a dark plum color that looked amazing on the pale-skinned models.  Unfortunately, on my blue-toned lips Dahlia does the full Morticia Addams and is not the effect I´m looking for outside of Halloween.  The D&G makeup artist steered me toward Bahia, a slightly lighter, pinker color that I never would have tried on my own.  It´s the darkest lipstick shade I think I could pull off and satisfies a long-held craving of mine for a deep pink that is vampy against my pale skin but not Morticia.  At the same time I bought Splendid, a retro pink that looks better (softer, less of a statement) on my lips than Shiseido Bubblegum.  This is a slightly warm tone and would probably look great on you warm-toned ladies.  As far as I´m concerned the D&G lippies live up to the hype – they´re moist but they also last, and for anyone worried about the rose scent, it´s there but not overpowering.  The gold case is a little flashy (yeah, big surprise) but not unattractive.

I’ll wrap this up by saying that if you think you can’t wear pink lips, you just haven’t found the right pink.  Suggestions and direction from a good makeup artist are so useful; several of these lippies I certainly wouldn’t have tried if they hadn’t been recommended to me.  It’s impossible to judge the color, coverage or saturation in the tube.  Pink lips are fun and less of a precision commitment than red.  I can’t imagine my life without them now.  I’d love to hear your thoughts!

pink lips erotic poster, popartuk.com

March

Finally; words typed on a keyboard into a PC on soil north of the 49th parallel. They look the same, they sound the same, but they are different. I am different. I am Canadian.

 I know I´m making much more out of this than I probably should, but I cannot seem to help myself. I keep thinking of Aaron Arkaway, the ancillary character in “The Sopranos” who was Janice Soprano´s short-lived evangelical boyfriend. He kept asking anyone and everyone, “Have you heard the good news?” His response was “He has risen”; my response is, “I am Canadian”. And, just like Aaron, I find myself telling anyone and everyone. Sooner or later, someone will answer me, “Yeah, I know, you told me.”

 I arrived here last Friday with only two fragrances. My aunt and a close friend of mine have pretty significant sensitivities to fragrances, so I didn´t want to bring any scents that would cause problems for them. I packed my hot weather standby, Philosophy Pure Grace, and their newest scent, Unconditional Love. It wasn´t until a few days ago that I realized these scents are significant not only for their subtlety and understatement, but for their names as well. Times have been difficult for me in addition to the Canadian border fiasco, and I won´t pretend that I haven´t had a few meltdowns over the course of the past couple of years. I did, but I had them in the privacy of my home and not with cameras rolling and people gawking, the way so many meltdowns seem to happen these days. And even if someone offered me major dollars to have an on-camera Oscar calibre breakdown, I´d refuse. It´s nobody´s business but my own. Wasn´t that the title of a song back in the 80s?

 I´ve never been particularly graceful physically; I can be a bit of a bull in a china shop, and I´m not sure if I believe that human beings are capable of unconditional love. However, there is a graciousness inherent in all of us, and it will reveal itself when we least expect it. My aunt and uncle have been gracious to a fault during this rather difficult period in my life and I don´t know if I will ever be able to repay them for their support and generosity.  Perhaps it is time for me to reveal my inner graciousness and embrace the upheaval and change that have become the permanent landscape of my life. Maybe, just maybe, it is time to start believing in unconditional love. And, as always, smelling good doesn´t hurt, as long as no one starts sneezing. So far, so good.

Lily has chosen: After much coaxing with yummy treats, I managed to get Lily out from under the bed in my aunt´s spare bedroom, so she could choose the three winners of the Carol´s Daughter Pearls samples. They are: Janet in CA, Bev and Linda. Ladies, please e-mail your info via “Contact Us” at the top of the page. And thanks to everyone for your interest in this wonderful scent.