After reading all your amazing stories here, I’ve reached the realisation that I’m no longer a proper perfume addict. What in some ways might induce melancholia, also brings relief: I no longer worry too much about trying everything, EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING, godammit, and can count on one hand (I think) the number of new releases I’ve sniffed this year. At least, that’s what my ‘convince yourself it’s true’ mind tells me.

Hell, I’ve even gone a couple of weeks without wearing perfume. Partly that’s the fault of oinking swine flu, which came and went with two days of fever, aches and soul-weariness, followed by a tail of coughing, headaches and wheezing. I was lucky: one of the kids next door followed it up with croup and pneumonia. He’s fine now though (very mild pneumonia – when I saw him last, he’d just spent the night in hospital and was running around imagining he was a doctor, coughing that deep pneumonic cough as he attempted resusciation -or something – on a teddy in the hallway). Back on topic, please.

But also, the not-wearing-perfume thing is part of my usual summer malaise where my obsession slots get taken up with my other interests (growing stuff and home improvement, seeing as you asked. What I can’t paint, wallpaper, or plant I have no interest in. And armchairs, fabrics and blankets currently make me delirious in an entirely non-flu like way).

However, in spite of all this, I still have a list of things to sniff on a post-it on the desktop of my laptop, which I’m currently typing on in my sitting room on the oak table with Queen Anne legs on the wool carpet which we’re planning to change after I’ve painted the ceilings down to the picture rail an off-white, the walls a tertiary green and wallpapered the alcoves on either side of the chimney. Then I’ll move onto the study – French grays, sofabed cunningly concealed as an old fashioned couch, oak ladder desk, winged French armchairs, rug. See, I’m off again.

So the list. Here it is.

Fourreau Noir – even though it has the dreaded dihydromyrcenol (think nasty modern men’s stuff – for me, the throat-choker chemical) according to the ever-sagacious Carmencanada of Grain de Musc, old Serge remains a must-test for me, even though I detested Serge Noire and continue to vacillate over El Attarine. Though sheaths are new, I’m very bored of Noir in perfumes. Thrill me, Sergy, please.

Fille en Aiguilles – a sample will shortly be winging its way to me. Now this sounds lovely, from what I’ve read elsewhere (Happily, Hellenic Helg raved over at Perfume Shrine). Yes please.

Wazamba – I wonder, I wonder. Hilarious name. We had a drink in the UK in the 80s called Um Bongo, and this perfume name reminds me of the same facile and colonialist attempt to speak for all of Africa in one word, and get it wrong enough to be very bad indeed. But, at the same time, it does sound funny. And the ingredients – incense, fir, cypress (and apple. wtf?) – pique my interest.

CDG Laurel – I know nothing about this other than it makes me think of cooking and Caesar.
L’Artisan for Scent Bar/Lucky Scent and Havane Vanille – what’s happened to the Scent Bar release by Bertrand Duchaufour that’s supposed to smell of the LA hills? Wasn’t it due for release in October last year? Who’s fallen asleep at the wheel? And why didn’t Liberty send me a sample of Havane Vanille when all I’ve heard from Sniffa folk is ‘Oh it’s so lovely’, ‘Gosh, darn it, it’s the best vanilla ever’, ‘Streuth (an Australian, I imagine), it’s a beaut’, ‘Strikealight, sugarplum, it’s got me multi-orgasmic’. And I’ve bought from Liberty for years too. Snarl, snarl, and whimper.

The Different Company Oriental Lounge – another quiet one, but it’s Celine Ellena and seeing as I swear by her Sel de Vetiver, admire her Sublime Bal(l)kiss(ing), and am captivated by her jasmine at night, this ‘un should also be good, even if that name is a little too 90s chillout for my tastes.

Fahrenheit Absolute – I wore the original as though my existence depended on it back when I though secondhand suits with desert boots and braces was the best look evah!, and therefore this ‘need-to-test’ combines the best bits of nostalgia (saudade if you want to get Portuguese or pretentious about it) with the driving need of the reformed sniffaholic.

Oh, and a late addition. Patricia de Nicolai is releasing  Patchouli Homme in September. O.M.Freakin’.G. That might just be a blind buy. Read about it here. And let’s end with a few of that wonderful woman’s words:

‘I’m a bit fed up with the whole “100%-natural” thing. If some people want to go back to Marie-Antoinette’s perfumery, fine, it’s up to them. But as far as I’m concerned, I don’t believe in 100%-natural haute perfumery. We absolutely must need to change the way we look at synthetic molecules; journalists need to be brave enough to talk about them, to break the taboo. Way back in 1952, Ernest Beaux said, “Perfumery’s future lies in chemistry”…’

So, what’s on your list.? Share one, share all.

The image is of a random list found on the internet. I quite enjoy trying to make sense of it.

Some of you may know I’ve been doing rolfing the last few month.  We’re getting near the end of the series, which is all the neck, shoulder, back, head work. Every time I go in, I have headaches for the next 3-4 days. This is one of those days.  It’s well worth it, but just a lot of lactic acid builds up in those areas. It was much easier to deal with when it was my legs or arms aching for those few days.

It’s not been a good day to sniff, so I’m going to do some cleanup on giveaways and let you know about a couple more Roja Dove splits going on.

Winners of the Creed Acqua Fiorentina sample:  Tammy, sheo, Scott, KathyT, Masha, Jill S, maitreyi, dagney, Linda and Amy K.

Byredo Bal d’Afrique sample winners:  pyramus and Ojeda.  Thanks to all of you for playing.

Just click on Contact Us on the left and remind me what you won so I can send you the correct thing.

So an unnamed, but reliable, person, is organizing some more Roja Dove semi-bespoke fragrance splits.  These run about $7 a ml in a split. I smelled all of these, I believe, and there wasn’t one I wouldn’t happily have, and I plan to get in on all of these splits.  If you are interested, click on the Contact Us, tell me which split you are interested in. Minimum splitting is 15 mls, so please tell me the amount as well. I realize these are unsniffed, but I can’t imagine that any of them wouldn’t be superbly swappable if it just doesn’t work out.

3 – bergamot, lavender, rose, jasmine, cedar, vetiver, vanilla, civet (lighter civet than the skanky fabulous 7).  The notes I got on it were that it was Jicky, but less lavendery. I have to note here that the person sniffing it doesn’t read civet heavily, so it could lean to the skanky.

4 – bergamot, orange, rose, jasmine, orris, musk, sandalwood.  Her notes were that it was more soft, like a Guerlain than hard-edged like a Chanel.  Her favorite perfume is Vol de Nuit, so this has a very classic feel to it.  A little like MDCI Enlevement au Serail’ish?

6 – bergamot, orange, ros, jasmine, orris, opoponax, musk.  Her notes are that this is all opoponax. So if you don’t like the ‘pop, you are gonna despise this. Opoponax lovers will adore it. She said it is very potent and her strip she sprayed it on is going strong after 4 days.

So some more very special splits, if y’all are interested! Sorry about the lack of anything resembling a review today, but I did sniff the new Divine briefly and am enchanted.  They sent a bunch of samples, so I’ll be doing a give-away on that next week.

Not too long ago, one of our perfumista buddies on here bid on a bottle of something on eBay, only to realize after she won that the price was listed in British pounds rather than dollars.  Oops.   So she wrote me in a welter, and I promptly reassured her.  First off, the price she paid was still worth it, IMO.  Second, hey – at least it wasn’t the old 2/1 exchange rate!  Finally, I don’t feel you can be a true member of our cult unless you’ve messed up an eBay purchase or three.

What does it mean to be a perfume addict?  Last week on the blog, there was a great comment from Pyramus I’m going to quote here:  “On a visit to Toronto in the year Yohji Homme was launched, on the day I was leaving, I sprayed some on my wrist at Holt Renfrew, went to a movie and got there about half an hour before the movie was ready to start because that’s what I do, sniffed my wrist compulsively, realized I would not have time to go back to HR after the movie, left the theatre, ran back to HR, bought the stuff, and then ran back to the theatre. That’s how desperately I realized I needed it.”

Now that is textbook perfume fetishist behavior.  Hmmm…. Sit in this movie theater, or go back to HR right now and get me some? I think we can all agree that Pyramus made the obvious choice.

So today I’m inviting anyone who’d like to air an anecdote from your own Perfume Journey (or walk of shame) to do so.  Whether it’s some amazing deal you got, or hoops you jumped through, or a purchase gone hilariously wrong – I’d love to hear about it.  You can achieve two righteous goals simultaneously: serve as a cautionary take for the  lurkers out there and allow us to laugh at you (or sigh in envy.  Inviting those of you who bought the $20 Gobin Daudes on clearance at Tak a couple years ago to come out and gloat).

Off the top of my head – I think the most ridiculous effort I made to score a bottle was the Tan Giudicelli Annam I found on this wack French swap site (I couldn’t simply pay cash for it).  I managed to drag in a whole slew of innocent victims to help me with that one, including Patty, Louise and Carmencanada, since I don’t, you know, actually speak French (and the swapper didn’t speak English, and nobody wanted to ship it through the bs French postal system.)  I traded it for a bottle of YSL Cinema that I had shipped to Carmen from a British seller blah blah blah nutjob blah blah obsessive freak blah.  If you’re curious about the gory details, click here for my post.

My funniest eBay purchase, which some of you already know, was the screaming deal I got on a bottle of the difficult-to-find Floris Summer Limes on a German website.   Unfortunately what I’d actually bid on was a postcard of Summer Limes, presumably left over from some ad campaign.  As we say in German, dummass.  And I’ve gotten more than one empty bottle bidding on foreign auctions, although sometimes US sellers dump out the bottle contents before shipping or fail to adequately seal it, so you receive a great-smelling package with no juice remaining.  Some eBay sellers are used to dealing with us, but it’s always good to let random sellers know you want to wear the fragrances.  Funny as it may seem, many of them have difficulty grasping that you’re interested in the perfume itself.  Also, a special shoutout to Louise – if you read this post on your travels, please tell your Coke bottle story!  (Louise is still swanning around Yurrup – go ahead, make me jealous!)

Alrighty then.  Cozy up to your keyboard and tell me your perfume stories.  I won’t laugh nervously and back away.  Unlike your other friends.

Creed’s newest release is Acqua Fiorentina.  It has notes of plum, roses, carnation, bergamot orange, lemon, cedar, and sandalwood.  Prices are $130 for 1 ounce, $230 for 2.5 ounces and $350 for 8.4 ounces.

Did Creed’s prices go up?  A lot?

It opens fairly aquatic with a typical Creed base, but don’t get worried, it loses that watery feel and turns much more plummy and floral.  It’s not a sweet plum, not heavy on any of the fruitish notes at all.  Very fresh and springlike floral with cedary underpinnings.  It’s done well and doesn’t fall into the Creed side of the fence of scents I hate.  It falls on the much sparser side of Creed scents I like.  It’s very nice, though I like Love in Black a lot more, it’s just more my kind of scent.

But the pricing?  I mean, the $350 for 8.4 ounces is darn reasonable.  It’s good that they are offering it in a 1 ounce size, but $130?  Which brings me to my question of the day, what is a reasonable price for perfume in this year’s astronomical pricing?  Hard to believe we are in a recession with the hikes that have been going on just in the last three quarters. Ideas  on what marketing strategy is at play here?

Let’s give away some samples of this since I got some for my review.  10 winners will get a sample of this. Just drop your name in comments, and I’ll do a drawing.

It still hasn’t gotten very hot here (upper 80s) which by DC standards is moderate.  In fact I think we’ve broken 90 only four or five days this summer.  We’ll see what August brings.

So I’ve gotten to try one of those perfumista cult perfumes – Cher’s Uninhibited, thanks to Melissa!   I love the bottle, isn’t that a gas?  I had a heckuva time finding a decent image.  This is allegedly a factice, which I think looks like the parfum bottle, with a frosted glass (crystal?) half moon stopper.  The stopper on the EdT bottles is silver toned.

I personally would expect Cher’s fragrance to suck, only because so many celeb fragrances do.  According to Basenotes, Uninhibited was inspired by two fragrances Cher wore together: Charles of the Ritz and Jean Laporte Vanilla. Since I don’t have either of those I can’t say, but Uninhibited has been discontinued for some time and fetches premium prices online.  It shows up on eBay and it appears to be available at a couple other sites.

Notes are lily, peony, dried fruits, ylang, orris, magnolia, vanilla, heliotrope, musk. I’m finding that list a little suspect, only because Uninhibited doesn’t smell as sweet as that list would suggest.  In fact, the opening smells like aldehydes to me; for the first few seconds you could be smelling some chilly Chanel.  It’s a dry cocktail of a thing at that point.  Then the fragrance opens up and sweetens on my skin, but never gets all that sweet.  It’s powdery the way orris can be powdery, and the heliotrope isn’t overwhelming.  The drydown’s really nice, a slightly tart musk that manages to convey both sensuality and aloofness.

I think Cher Uninhibited fits in nicely with Cher’s image of the time – it’s fierce and strong and yet retains a sense of humor.  It also has that pre-gourmand vibe when “sexy” smelled like musk and patch and civet instead of like baked goods.  I’m not sure I’d go to the ends of the earth to get my hands on a bottle, but if some comes your way it’s worth a sniff.

Sephora/OPI continues to rock my world.  Thanks to Anita for this tipoff, via their Beauty Insiders newsletter:

“Sephora by OPI DARK ROOM is a dangerously deep, gorgeous, green nail color that will make you a scene stealer this autumn. Embrace an air of seductive mystery that will keep your audience at the edge of their seats.”

I am a huge fan of green polishes, particularly matte colors.  This looks like it could be a decent substitute for the coveted, elusive NARS Zulu, maybe a hair lighter?  Which suits me, it’s less likely to fade to black in dim lighting.  Anyone tried this yet?  It’s on their website for Beauty Insiders only right now…

It’s not like we really had much summer so far, but I’m looking forward to my cool weather polishes.  This summer I got a ton of pedicure mileage out of Sephora/OPI Queen of Everything, a gold/silver that is neutral, lasts well, and doesn’t show chips.  I also got a ton of compliments on my China Glaze Secret Peri-wink-le mani, although the polish does the weirdest thing — over a few days it literally fades off my nails.  Even under a Seche topcoat.  I wonder if my bottle’s defective.  Anybody ever have something like that happen?

What is a moldy old picture of Clint Eastwood doing here on the Posse? Well, I was thinking about explaining the lure of foody/gourmand fragrances as a “fatal attraction”, but then I remembered I own a DVD copy of Play Misty for Me, the 1971, pre-Dirty Harry Clint Eastwood gem that scares the bejeezus out of me about a thousand times worse than Fatal Attraction ever has. If you can get your hands on a copy of this, do me the favor of watching it late at night, either alone or when everyone in your household is sound asleep, and tell me this isn’t one of the most terrifyingly blood curdling cautionary tales ever told. Glenn Close ain’t got nuthin’ on Jessica Walter. And Eastwood’s swaggering jazz DJ Dave Garver is off-the-chart sexy-nasty in ways Michael Douglas could never be.

Now onto the topic at hand: foody/gourmand scents. I know a lot of us have a love/hate relationship with this category of fragrance, but there is bound to be at least one scent in this genre that everyone here will fess up to wearing. As for what degree of foody/gourmand you’re into, that is a personal preference. There was a time when for me, the foodier a scent was, the more I loved it. I had no qualms about smelling like apple pie, pumpkin pie, candy corn, cinnamon buns, chocolate babka, pancakes, waffles, French toast, melting marshmallows…I could go on for hours if not days. That phase has passed, and I am now drawn to scents that are, shall we say, a bit more grown up? Sophisticated? Less provincial? Oh hell, call it whatever you want. I no longer want to smell like breakfast food. There; I said it.

This past May I reviewed the Acorelle line of organic fragrances, brought to us by Susan Anapol, the North American distributor of Comptoir Sud Pacifique. When I met up with her at Art with Flowers in Tyson’s Corner Galleria, she told me that her next import was going to be the reissued line of Les Senteurs Gourmandes by Laurence Dumont.

Some of you may recall that these scents were sold at Sephora stores for a time, then yanked from their shelves and website. The line has since been reintroduced in new packaging with some new scents, and some of the old ones discontinued. The current lineup now consists of Vanille Bourbon, Vanille Chocolat, Vanille Frangipanier, Vanille Monoi, Vanille Orientale, Vanille Patchouli, and Vanille Violette. In addition to these, Figue Sauvage, Musc Blanc and Tendre Madeleine are brand new to the line.

Let me start by saying that these are not your children’s vanillas. These are exactly what you want when you don’t want to smell like cookie dough or, ahem, breakfast. The Laurence Dumont stable of vanillas are earthy, warm and sexy. If you’re in the market for a sexy floral with warmth only vanilla can provide, then Violette, Monoi and Frangipanier are worth checking out. Violette is reminiscent of Lancôme’s Tresor, but Monoi and Frangipanier are stunning choices for all you tropical floral scent-lovers.

I immediately zeroed in on Tendre Madeleine; Yes, I have morphed into an unabashed almond whore and I am not ashamed to admit it. It has nothing to do with Marcel Proust, or the fact that I consumed vast quantities of marzipan as a child. Almond done right is heavenly, and Tendre Madeleine is right up there with Carol’s Daughter Almond Cookie.

Tendre Madeleine has a sparkly bit of bergamot at the beginning and an even warmer mix of cinnamon, vanilla and woods as it dries down. This, along with Acorelle Amande de Blé, Dior Escale à Portofino and Almond Cookie are now my favorite almond scents.

Fig is another note I have a hard time passing up, and is also one that can be hard to get right. The pinnacle of fig is of course L’Artisan’s Premier Figuer, but Figue Sauvage  gives it a pretty good run for the money. Dumont’s fig is spicier, though not as creamy as Premier Figuer; the addition of vanilla and sandalwood to the base makes it warmer and more fig-a-licious. Did I just say “fig-a-licious”? I am not well.

As for the rest of the vanillas, again, it’s all about personal preference. Bourbon is the sweetest, but will not give you a toothache; Chocolat has a bit of an Angel vibe to it, and Orientale and Patchouli are the dead-sexiest of the bunch.

These reincarnated Dumonts are $59 for 100 ml of eau de parfum. You can find them at Art with Flowers in the DC area; also at Henri Bendel in NYC and at Plumm in the Americana in Manhasset NY (my old stomping grounds). Online, they’re at lushoasis.com.

 OK, now it’s time for you, dear loyal Posse reader, to fess up: What is your favorite foody/gourmand scent? Go ahead, make my day.

This is my last area of major lovage this week. Considering the huge price hike in perfumes in the last two years, the Prada exclusive parfums start to look almost reasonable at under 200 U.S. for 30 mls of parfum. Guerlain pure parfums are around $300 per ounce for an ounce of pure parfum.  Chanel is around the same, I think?  It is my assumption these are parfum strength. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’ll fix the post.

Prada centered their pure parfum editions around soliflores, which is pretty much why I wasn’t that interested in them.  I like soliflores well enough, but not enough to spend $200 for a bottle normally. While they do center them around one note, these are so much more complex, at least the ones I have tried.  Now Smell This has the notes for the Prada Exclusives.

Opoponax is dark, leathery and musky, it’s not one I’d wear unless I were stepping out for the evening or intending to bag my man at the grocery store.  It’s a little Frederic Malle Musc Ravageur, but smokier, not as sweet.

Tubereuse is not a heavy tuberose, made lighter by the neroli, but grounded into heat with the musk.

Iris, well, swoon me runnin’.  It’s rooty incense.  This is lovely.

Carnation is a major love of mine normally, and they get it right with Oeillet.  Clove, heliotrope, rose, iris, musk.  Spicy, earthy floral.  Like Caron’s Poivre with a musk base.  I have a few exclamation marks to put after this, but don’t want to look like a Prada fangirl.

Violette is the last one I’ve tried so far, though we sniffed a few more in London.  Leather and galbanum mixed in with violet.  Violet grabbed her whip and scared me, but it’s so darn great.

Best part of the ones I’ve tried, I tested them all, and everyone in a great big room said the same thing, what did you spray?  Well, all of them, which may be the best result of all. At least these ones together are a stunning scent when combined.

Now, if any of you have tried others, let me know what you think.  I did sniff Myrrhe and Benjoin, and I didn’t spend that much time with them and thinking maybe I should have. I didn’t think I liked it with just a few minutes. I’ve heard good things about the Cuir Ambre, but haven’t sniffed it yet.

As far as availability, I know they are all over London, Liberty for sure, which is where I sniffed and bought.  I know Bergdorf has some of them. Allegedly the Prada boutique in NYC and L.A. has them, but I called months and months ago one of the Prada boutiques in NYC, and they  never did call me back with what they had.  Grrrr.  Other places in the U.S.?

Yes, it’s true – I went into the woods for more than a week, beyond the reach of cell phone or computer, and yet … I took along three perfumes.  What else would one expect?

They were simple and unobtrusive and felt right – Origins’ ginger roll-on, Caron’s Eau de Reglisse, and Prada Infusion d’Iris.

The Prada came out two years ago (how is this possible?) and my initial reaction was muted.  I had trouble smelling it.  Then I could smell it, but it wasn’t interesting to me.  Then it reinserted itself into my awareness when it became a favorite scent of the train commuters in my area, a pleasant surprise after room-hoggers like Angel.

For something rather subtle, Infusion d’Iris is quite distinctive.  (Notes include mandarin, galbanum, orange blossom, iris, cedar, vetiver, incense and benzoin.)  I have read more than one comment describing it as smelling like very expensive soap.  That’s meant as a compliment in context, and I understand it: it’s not really like soap, but there is something soothing about its slightly spicy seamlessness.  My favorite bit is the benzoin-rich drydown that has a habit of wandering off and magically reappearing when I think it’s all gone away.

Having accumulated several sample vials, I took to wearing it on occasion and was surprised to receive compliments almost every time.  Maybe I put it on with too heavy a hand (I still think I am partly anosmic to it) but I am surprised to discover, two years later, that there are days when nothing else will do.

I’m going to link to Robin’s review, which I rediscovered when noodling with this post, because it’s spot on in my opinion.  (And I’m going to leave that sentence as is, with a giggle, because I notice I appear to be aping Robin’s writing style tonight, consciously or not.  I’m not going to fight it.)  For a fragrance that seemed so tenuous and disappointing to me at first (and third and tenth) sniff, it has surprising tenacity on the skin and on fabric – I find ghosts of it a week or two later on my sweaters, and it’s never an unpleasant surprise. It also turns out to be one of my favorite irises because it’s easy and it never goes monstrous – not too powdery, not too rooty.  Lutens’ Iris Silver Mist is a glorious thing, but I don’t throw it on without considering the consequences; I’d say the same for Hiris and even the annoyingly short-lived 28 La Pausa (on the wrong day it’s slightly metallic, like sucking on a dime.)

In the end I think I fell in love with Infusion d’Iris because it isn’t trying to do or be too much; it is lovely without being either conventional or hip.  It is elegant but not snobbish, dry but not austere, sweet but not girly.  A man could (and should) wear it with aplomb.

In contrast, let’s look at the new Carolina Herrera CH which just showed up at my Nordstrom, although I believe it appeared at roughly the same time as Prada Infusion d’Iris – mid 2007.   Notes are bergamot, orange, pomelo, melon, rose, jasmine, praline, cinnamon, woody notes.

I’ve always loved Carolina Herrera’s clothing but been a little baffled by Herrera’s fragrances.  They were never my thing, although I know several women who wear Chic enthusiastically, and her scents are at least age appropriate if inoffensive.  The new bottle for CH is gorgeous, the sort of thing I think Coach should have done, wrapped in (okay, probably faux) red leather and very stylish.   It would look great on your dresser, and I’ve just hit the highlight, because if I were you I wouldn’t try wearing the actual fragrance.

The first, overwhelming impression is sweeeeet, subcategory gourmand, to the point that I tried reflexively to step away from my own arm after applying it.  Why they trotted this out in midsummer is beyond me.  The words plastic melon drilled themselves into my brain, thus adding to my appreciation of Chandler Burr’s review of it while I was incommunicado (among other things, he mentions Splenda and Saran Wrap.)  Sprinkle a little pumpkin pie spice on top before you pop it in the microwave and Bob’s your uncle.  The fragrance on a paper strip two weeks later is surprisingly offputting – an acrid, woody base smothered in the olfactory equivalent of cinnamon Cool Whip.   Grabbing from Burr’s review: “Every time I say a perfume is cheap, the perfumers (in this case Olivier Cresp and Rosendo Mateu) protest that the materials are, in fact, expensive. O.K. This smells incredibly cheap.” It’s been awhile but I’m trotting out the Mr. Yuck logo for this one.

In contrast to the Prada, CH is trying to do and be all the wrong things – younger, hipper, sexier – and it fails at all of them miserably.  It’s too sweet, too plasticky, much too strong and feels dated in the worst way – the uber-gourmandy thing of two or three years ago rather than, say, the iconic giant fragrances of the 70s that have been out of fashion so long they feel wonderfully fresh.   I can only assume this was the brand’s attempt to lure a younger audience and, with all due respect, good luck with that.  In fact, if Carolina Herrera youths the brand up before I’m old and rich enough to wear those glorious clothes, I’m going to be cross.

I had smelled Byredo’s Bal d’Afrique briefly in L.A. back in April or so, but too much sniffage didn’t allow me to get more than a “mmmm, nice” thought formed about it.  In London, I got a longer turn with it.  Notes of Bergamot, Lemon, Neroli, African marigold, Bucchu, Violet, Jasmin petals, Cyclamen, Black Amber, Musk, Vetiver, and Moroccan cedarwood.

The open of bergamot, lemon and neroli is fairly briefl, just enough to perk you up and put you in a great mood, though it lingers as just a sparkly shadow through the drydown.  Marigolds and bucchu arrive to give a slightly bitter feel, slightly sensuous sweat smell.  A little like an “after-the-exertion” note.  You know, right?  The  florals sweeten it up, while the base notes lay in an earthy, sexy backdrop.  All together?  Sexy as hell and addictive as crack.

Byredo’s Gypsy Water has the same feel for me. Not the same notes, but that addictive, comforting  composition.  My dad always had a pillow on the couch, and he’d come in from the fields and lay down for a nap, and the little bit of sweat would just seep into the pillow.  When he wasn’t around, I would just bury my face in that pillow, and I felt like I was wrapped in a place where nothing could ever hurt me.  He had the sweetest sweat smell.   Bal d’Afrique and Gypsy Water is like that for me  – compulsive, addictive, sweet and bitter, earthy, sexy, and incredibly comforting.  It’s like burrowing my nose in my favorite sweater that I’ve worn for years.

It may be too earlly to call this, but I think Byredo has some staying power as a line and, along with Kilian, has been the best new line introduction of the last couple of years.  They’ve both done interesting things that are unconventional, while also making perfumes that are compulsively wearable.

Of course I’ll do a drawing for a couple of samples of this.  Liberty was super-nice when we were there and passed out 1 ounce bottles to all Sniffa attendees.

Winners of the Kilian Pure Oud sample:  Momlady and Eric. Just click on Contact Us and remind me what you’ve won and your address.

It’s been a weird year, sparking some odd reflection which landed me in Vintage Village.  I started rolling around in the old Cotys from my mother’s day and in doing so I found some incredible gems.   All the extant-vintage favorites are achingly beautiful, with an aura that speaks of years of careful crafting. I thought they took forever to create and were few in number.  Then looked at the Coty timeline (and I had to hunt to find it – thank you PerfumeProjects!!  The lame-o Coty website would have you think all Francois did was make  two or three perfumes, buy a building and eat potato chips) – anyhoo, then I looked at the Coty timeline  and there is NO space between scents.  From La Rose Jacqueminot* in 1904 through the 50s they come fast and furious – at least one a year – it’s a staggering list .  So why do they smell so complex and interesting?  Scary ingredients?  No focus groups in t-shirts?  What?  But there are so many Cotys during Francois’s reign alone! – I’d love to know which ones died ignoble deaths.  Somewhere out there is a chest with Every. Single. Coty that Francois made – I just know it.  And it has my name on it.  Somewhere.

* La Rose J:  I’m not going there.  What little vintage there is costs the Earth.  Fugeddaboutit.   Right?  Right?

My mother wore the 60s Coty triumverate:  L’Aimant, L’Origan and Emeraude colognes, preferring them to more expensive scents because …well, never mind about the whorehouse.  I’m glad it took me forever – and the Posse-  to revisit – who knew there were vintage Coty perfumes, so divine, so worthy of my adoration.  I now have 3 vintage L’Origans, each bustin’ a cap in my psyche every time I undo their little Bakelite lids. Oh, baby.   As you can imagine, they’re all different but they all have that balanced complexity.  A melange of clove-y carnation, violets and heliotrope – there’s iris in there, too, but I can’t smell it (if I ever get mugged it will be by an iris).  It is supposedly the model upon which L’Heure Bleu was formed and if so, they couldn’t have chosen a more reflective, beautifully melancholic scent.  It sighs of Debussy and crumbly sables and phonographs and soft Parisian rain.  Vintage Emeraude perfume (a cheapo find) is of such lushness, like an emerald green-and-gold cashmere swing coat , exquisitely tailored, with tortoiseshell buttons.  It’s not an iron fist in a velvet glove; though it has extreme power, it’s all seduction, no shrieking aggression.   It’s more like a vampire in a velvet gown.  You’re in it before you know it – and you’re Hers. Vintage ONLY.  Go near the new stuff and it’ll blow your heart out with a napalm-filled slug. 

We can’t even get into the sparkling fabulosity that is L’Aimant, lest I start dancing the Mamooshka. Suffice to say, it’s an aldehyde junkie’s dream, to me, a little more easygoing than No. 5. I yarked about it on the Top 10 last week in my boneheaded way – but I do love it so.  I’m so sure M. Coty is spinning in his elegant grave, hearing me liken it to really good root beer.  But ya know….really good root beer is really good!

Don’t forget the vintage caveat:  YBMV.  And don’t come sobbing to me if you spritz the current drugstore swill.  Don’t do it.  None of it.  I’m tellin’ ya.

Oh! Before you leave:  Balmain, my darling Pierre, so smart to hire La Cellier.  Such a revelation.  I worried through an impulse buy -  a Heart Attack in a Bottle, mid-era Jolie Madame parfum that is so beautiful and so precise that the breath caught in my throat, as I was thrown into an alternate total recall universe where every memory was perfect, if only for that moment.  Funny thing is, I never wore Jolie Madame. I wore Vent Vert because it was green, just like me but now, as gorgeous as the vintage is, it seems not quite right? on me, like wearing tube socks and a short, pleated skirt.   Jolie Madame now seems perfect, like she was just waiting, all this time, for me to grow the hell up.  Well here I am, Madame.  Old as dirt.  Dang.  But what a way to slide into that ‘certain age’. 

Btw, I’ll bet people were scared to death of Mme G-is-for-Genius.  Smart move.  Anybody who can create Vent Vert, JMadame AND Fracas is worthy of serious respect – if not outright fear!

I would write about more vintage revelations but this is getting way long.  And a neighbor’s dog just got skunked, poor thing – and now the whole block stinks and all the perfume in the Universe can’t beat a pissed-off skunk.  You are off the hook.  Go sniff some vintage.  Tell me all about it.  You can thank the skunk later.

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Lee normally posts today, but he let me know that he’s been diagnosed with Swine Flu!!!!!!  Yikes x3!!!  So send all your best wishes/prayers/karmic love his way that he recovers soon.

Since I hadn’t really planned anything for today,  let’s go through some drawing winners that I managed to forget about.  But first, some fun. This is the most darling shower cap I’ve ever seen.  I picked it up at Fortnum & Mason, and I reallly should try and put on some makeup or something before I get it in my head to take these pictures for a blog  post. Apologies for the unfluffed face.  Is that just adorable or what? I don’t ever use a shower cap, but I’m trying to think of ways I can use it, but until I do, I just wear it ’round the house from time to time just to enjoy it.

So what is your favorite goofy thing you’ve picked up that you have absolutely no use for and have to make up reasons to use it?  Perfume is acceptable!

I completely forget to draw a winner in the Perricone Cosmeceuticals giveaway. The winner of that is:  fountaingirl. Just click on contact us on the left, remind me of what you’ve won, give me your address, I’ll forward it on to the Perricone people, and they’ll ship it to you directly.

Winner of the Boadicea samples:  Carter and Blonde.  Just click on the contact us on the left, remind me what you won, give me your address, and I’ll zip them off to you.

Just so you don’t have to guess how I feel.  I love it, adore it, need it, must have it.  Yes, yes, this is what oud perfumes should be, so everyone else should pay attention.  Now, the price has me shuddering - about 400 for 50 mls, though the refills once you go through the first 50 mls should be much less spendy.  Since you’ll only buy this if you love it, you should plow through 50 mls in a hurry.  This is one of the rare times when I will say it’s worth every last cent.  Sure, I’d like it to be cheaper, but I have no qualms about the price.

Grain de Musc reviews it here, and Octavian reviews it here.  Leathery, tobacco, dark, civety, saffron, Immortelle.  What’s not to love? Well, if you like your perfumes bright, cheerful and flowery, please don’t go near this, you’ll hate it because it’s none of those things.  This is moody and difficult, warm and embracing.  So many oud perfumes are muscled by the oud and get all sharp and shrill and make my head hurt. This has the oud, but it’s a base, a complement to the other notes.  Denyse and Octavian mention an inkiness, and that’s exactly it.  Dry ink, dusty, slightly musty, nestled into leather.  This is the melancholy letter you write at the end of the affair with the person you wrongly thought was the love of your life.   This is the first By Kilian perfume I’ve smelled that belongs absolutely in that cunning little enameled black box with the black ribbon and the key, and the addition of the gold plate on top with a big K on it.  The juice inside it matches all of the externals - it is the darkness that you covet. 

This shit rocks.  

I’ve got a couple of other things I’ll talk about next week that have made me scream “Oh, God” a couple of times in a frenzy like this one has.  It’s been a pretty great perfme summer for me so far.  How about you?

Oh, yeah, yeah, of course I’ll give away a couple of samples of The Preeeecioussss.  Drop a comment and you’ll be entered in the drawing.

Sometimes, a big city can be welcoming, and sometimes it can wallop you with an urban blight that impacts you so profoundly, it makes you scratch your head and wonder why you love that particular place so much to begin with.

When I crossed the border into Ontario for the first time since my enemy radical status was rescinded, I couldn’t wait for that first glimpse of the CN Tower that reveals itself from across Lake Ontario as you drive along on the Queen Elizabeth Way, somewhere between St. Catharines and Hamilton. It almost reminds me of seeing Manhattan from mid-span on the Verrazano Narrows Bridge between Staten Island and Brooklyn, only the distance from St. Catharines to Toronto is much greater. As you view either metropolis from those vantage points, you can’t help but be filled with hope and anticipation of experiencing all each city has to offer, until you see them up close and discover appearances aren’t always what they seem.

Two days into my visit, municipal employees declared war on the city of Toronto and many relied upon services were casualties of their declaration. Their work stoppage has affected city-run daycare centers, community swimming pools, public parks and other essential city services. The most obvious and frankly disgusting casualty has been the cessation of garbage, recycling and compost collections, which have caused unsightly mountains of refuse to pile up all over the landscape. It looks awful and smells even worse. To add insult to psychological, visual and olfactory injuries, striking workers have blockaded garbage transfer stations and temporary drop-off sites and will periodically not allow tax-paying citizens to dispose of their refuse. When they do allow individuals to unburden themselves of their trash, they restrict entry into these stations or drop sites by allowing access to only one vehicle at a time in 15 minute intervals. I don’t know which part of this surprises me more: the fact that they are able to do that, or that people are willing to wait in line for hours at a time to drop off their garbage. As of this posting, there is no end in sight to this strike and negotiations are progressing at a snail’s pace.

So what does the cynical perfumista do in order to stave off the offensive stench of rotting garbage? Head indoors to the fragrance counters in order to get some relief.

I’ve been very reticent to go downtown since the garbage situation has been affecting the tourist areas the most. Instead, I went over to the Yorkdale mall and perused the fragrance counters at The Bay and Holt Renfrew. At Holt Renfrew I discovered two new Italian fragrances that for the life of me I cannot remember which house made them, or what their names were. All I know is that they both smelled amazing and cost $180.00 a bottle. I lamented to Henni, one of the Beauty Advisors, that right now, they were way too rich for my pocketbook.

I noticed the complete range of Bond No. 9 scents with Brooklyn and Astor Place front and center. Kilian Hennessy’s By Kilian scents were nearby, but my interest was piqued by the newest Creed scent, Acqua Fiorentina. It is packaged in the same bottle as Love in White and Love in Black, the major difference being the color of the juice. Nabi, the Creed counter manager told me this was the first pink-toned Creed scent, and that the company will be making donations to breast cancer charities during Breast Cancer Awareness month in October. I haven’t been that crazy about a lot of the more recent Creed scents (with the exception of Virgin Island Water), but Acqua Fiorentina has a lovely, tart plum note that blends well with Calabrian lemon, carnation, rose, sandalwood and cedar. This is a tad fruity, but not in the ubiquitous celebrity scent way; the fruitiness of the plum and the dry cedar are reminiscent of a Serge Lutens creation, but it is a cinch to wear. If you like Spring Flower, you’ll like this one; it is really well done.

Speaking of Serge, the last time I ventured into The Bay at Yorkdale, there was a fairly comprehensive selection of the export fragrances. This time, they were nowhere to be found. I was rather surprised, but I have enough Serge to keep me occupied for a while. Honestly, The Bay at Yorkdale was a bit disappointing; however, they did have the reissued Givenchys, including a stockpile of Organza Indecence. Paging March: your favorite “sexy cupcake” scent is alive and well here in T.O. It smelled a bit boozier than the bottle I’ve got, but you’d be splitting hairs trying to tell them apart. Escada Incredible Me was interesting, and very reminiscent of Collection. I was tempted by it, but I’m glad I passed because it now smells a tad too perfumey on the blotter paper.

No sniffing expedition would be complete without a visit to my favorite haunt, Shoppers Drug Mart. There I discovered Kate Moss Velvet Hour, which I fell for completely. It’s an eau de toilette concentration and the notes of blue pepper, freesia, cashmere incense, patchouli, nutmeg sandalwood and amber are light enough to wear in warmer weather. It has a nice bit of “skank” appeal and I really had to force myself to walk away from it. I rationalized that the bottle was something of a deal-breaker with its dark blue flying saucer-ish shape that really doesn’t do the scent justice. This potion would be much more at home in a Dianne Brill/Fifi Chachnil/Agent Provocateur-type vessel. That way, you know what you’re getting.

The other scent I zeroed in on was Lise Watier’s Désirable. Now that I’m officially in the club, I really want to like a perfume from a Canadian cosmetics and fragrance house, but sadly, none of Ms. Watier’s scents are remotely appealing to me. Désirable is as potent as a genetically modified fruit salad and way too over-the-top for my liking. Her Neiges scent is another that, much as I’d like to, I just can’t wrap my nose around. Brutal Canadian winters notwithstanding, what could be better than to smell clean and pure as the driven… well, you know the rest. Sorry, no can do. Fans of Lorenzo Villoresi’s Teint de Neige would like this; the two are practically interchangeable.

I’d like to give a shout-out to Angela over at “Now Smell This”. I read her entry from this past Monday, “Lament of a Penniless Perfumista”, and it really struck a chord with me. As I gazed wistfully at all the shiny bottles, I was thinking exactly what Angela so eloquently wrote: “It’s challenging times like these that remind me to slow down and appreciate what I already have.” I couldn’t have said it any better. Being reunited with my family and friends and knowing they are there to support me through anything warms my heart much more than a bottle of fragrance ever could. And, like Angela, I have more than enough of those to tide me over. Now, if only my aunt could get rid of all her smelly garbage and compost…

I’m heading back to my US abode today, so I will read and respond to comments tomorrow.

Have you ever, on the long road through life, just looked around you and thought:  I really need to edit my life?  I do from time to time, even though I usually don’t let my life get too cluttered.  Sometimes you just notice that you have some things/people in your life that are redundant or really have no purpose.  Does that sound cold?  I guess I think that life is too short, and if you can’t find a reason, just one, for keeping something in your life, you really need to edit it out. Gently, kindly, but it should go.

Hey, what does that have to do with Boadicea?  It’s a line that seriously needed a heavy-handed editor.  There are some good/great/interesting perfumes in the line, but there are many that are so similar that you can’t sort through them.  Some seem a little unfinished or lacking in purpose.  Can I tell you which ones they are?  Um, no. I smelled 28 of them in one sitting. I can’t remember!  This could have been and still could be a great line if they edited it down to about 8 perfumes.  Combine some, add some components to another, and then expand it from there.  And the names!  Get some more creative juice behind the names. They’re unmemorable names that blend together and make it impossible to remember which one you really loved.

Noble, Divine and Delicate are the three that Michele Obama bought when she was in London, and all three of those are quite good.  The price point is a little high, 130 pounds for 100 mls, but the bottles with all the pewter is gorgeous.  Complex got a lot of raves around the table when we sniffed it, t’s pretty fierce.  One spray was wafting everywhere. Smidge of violet, all the rest labdanum, leather, musk and civet – yeah, I just saw 100 of you recoil and another 100 drool.  Intricate was also a big hit and a big, fierce perfume, but it’s one of the aoud perfumes and runs 450 pounds for 100 mls.  Ouch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I believe they also call it Ethereal.  The names keep changing on some of these, and they had one name at Selfridges and one name at Harrod’s.  Is problem that also needs editing.

So I’m not going to review any of these because I honestly, beyond those that I pointed out, plus Seductive, which is fir and patchouli, ambergris, musk and rosemary, can’t tell you what I think is really good.  I had several others I liked, but just gave up. I think Warrior and Warrioress, the two Selfridges exclusives, are quite good.  I personally prefer the Warrior to the Warrioress (notes of lemon, rose, cassis, coriander, tonka bean and patchouli for the Warrior). The Warrioress was good, but seemed close to the Complex and Vibrant.  So if you smell one of those three and love it, you may like the others or find them redundant and unnecessary.

Do I think the line is worth checking out?  Yes, I do. There’s some good stuff in there, but I think it could be better with fewer scents, better clarity on what each is intended to be.  I’ve got Divine on one hand, and I’m just smitten with it.   Aldehydes, jasmine, violet, styrax and sandalwood.  One of the other hyperexpensive aoud perfumes was love too, Elegant, but, again, that 450 pounds price tag scared me off, which is saying a lot for someone who is tough to scare on perfume pricing.  It has notes of lemon, rose, jasmine, nutmeg, agarwood, guaiacwood and ambergris.  Really fetching stuff.

I’ll help y’all out and give out two sets of samples of the noble, divine, delicate and complex. Just drop a comment and tell me what you need to edit out of your life or would like to,and you’ll be entered in the drawing.

Now, we have something else to discuss, but we need to keep it on the down low.  Some of you may know that Roja Dove does private collection perfumes. They are limited to 50 persons per perfume, runs $1600 for 250 mls, and once you buy it, you are entitled to buy it forever.  It just begs for splitting. Two scents were split when we were there, No 11 and No. 9.  No. 9 is a gorgeous aldhehydic perfume that just made me cry, it was so beautiful.  I have way more in my split than I can wear in a lifetime, so if anyone is interested in a half ounce, let me know.  There was one other perfume that three of us would split, but I couldn’t commit to it because it’s just too much for three people to split.  No. 7 is a skankfest on the order of Bal a Versailles and Party in Manhattan. It’s all glorious civety beauty with a drydown that lasts for a day.  The problem is, nobody bought it, so there’s no way to smell it, you’d have to commit to it unsniffed.  But having smelled the perfume, there are not just a few skank lovers out there that would take it off your hands if you hated it. If you’re interested in going in the split for 7, you know what to do.  You can also do the math, but it’s about 6.40 per ml, plus any fees, postage, bottle costs, etc.

How do I know I’m getting old?  I don’t recognize half the celebrity faces on the new Dolce & Gabbana D&G Anthology line of five fragrances.

Le Bateleur 1 (Tyson Ballou) – aromatic and aquatic notes, cedar, vetiver, and kill.me.now.   If you menfolken would like to freak out everyone around you with the mother lode of fresh aquatics, featuring a mouth-puckering sour musky finish, here’s your scent.  On second thought, put the bottle down and back away slowly.

L’Imperatrice 3 (Naomi Campbell) – watermelon, kiwi, pink cyclamen, musk.  Smells like teen spirit and Runts.  The teen girls liked this but said they couldn’t imagine a grownup wearing it.

L’Amoureaux 6 (Noah Mills) – spices, juniper berries, bergamot, pink pepper, cardamom, birch leaf, iris root, wood and musk.  Your standard-issue woody guy fragrance.  I love a woody guy as much as the rest of you, but … eh.

La Roue de la Fortune 10 (Eva Herzigova and Fernando Fernandes) -  tuberose, gardenia, jasmine, benzoin and patchouli.  As bona fide a “chypre floral” as Coco Mad (heh, although Coco Mad’s grown on me as a fun, loud trashy scent).  I guess if you held a gun to my head… it feels thin, though.  And the drydown is a surprisingly bitter/sour unwashed laundry smell.

La Lune 18 (Claudia Schiffer)- lily, tuberose, sandalwood, musk, iris root and leather.  I like this one the best – big surprise, given the list of notes, eh?  Again, too thin, just like all the supermodels these days, but at least it has a nice juxtaposition of slightly gourmand sweetness and spicy suede duskiness.

All fragrances will be available in 100ml (3.4 oz) EdT bottles.  Here’s a link to Kevin’s review on NST for comparison purposes, I don’t think he’s rushing out to buy any of these either.

Okey dokey, peeps!  I’m off to the Great Wild Woods of Maine until next week (I am hoping the weather has improved.)  No cel or computer, Nava and Musette are covering my days.  Let’s open this thread up and I’ll read all the comments when I get back, I promise –

• I have an open order at TPC, is there anything you wish I’d hurry up and review already?
• What are you looking forward to, release-wise?
• Has anyone else noticed how Gold Bond powder smells a little like Necco wafers, in particular the ones (clove? anise?) that smell like … well, Gold Bond powder?  Which is your favorite Necco, and what would the world be like without Necco?
• Is there anything worse than Chocolate Axe?  How about strawberry-peanut butter M&Ms?  Where is the FDA when you need them to prevent crimes like this?  What about the Geneva Convention, for the love of Pete?
• Why do we say “for the love of Pete?”  Or “Bob’s your uncle?”  Okay, maybe you don’t say these things, but I do.

Everyone: do me a favor and have a nice week, okay?   Smell good.

Yessirree, it’s time for our annual Top 10 Summer Scents!   The weather’s been a little freaky (too hot?  too cold?) for many of us, but that’s not slowing us down any when it comes to this post.  What are we craving this summer?  Read on.

Anita/Musette:   My first selection is Agraria Bitter Orange.  So cool and refreshing, with that kicky hint of spice.   In a 2007 review Book of Joe calls it “The Official Antidepressant Scent of bookofjoe” It has a distinctly urban feel to it and for me it’s the scent version of the epitome of summer: Constant Comment iced tea, sipped under an umbrella at an alfresco table in upper 80s Manhattan on a Saturday afternoon.    It has weight-loss properties, too:  I’m 10 years younger, about 30 lbs lighter, lots of disposable cash and having a (good) Sex in the City afternoon, complete with shopping montage and soundtrack.  As a bonus (in this scent-infused fantasy) I’m wearing a kicky little sundress and stiletto thong sandals – and my feet wouldn’t DARE swell in the heat of a Midtown summer afternoon.  Yeah, it really is that delightful.  I swear!  Y’all need to give it some love.   Not too much orange or too much clove but if you’re not into the clove-y spice of it all, a lovely alternative is Frederic Malle Bigarade Concentree – JCE hit it out of the park with this one.  Juicy, bitter orange, with the leaves and stems thrown in to give it that ‘eau’ edge so desperately needed in the sweltering heat.  It lasts about 32 seconds but so what!  It’s absolutely refreshing.  When I’m feeling truly louche (or it’s hitting triple digits) I layer them.  Both are great to spritz on fans and/or hankies.   What?  You don’t carry either?  Well, get with the program. You’re welcome.

My other selection: Vintage Coty L’Aimant.  This is a ultra-classic, fizzy aldehyde, perfect in the heat of a Midwestern summer. It’s complex but unfussy and it keeps its cool while other, more modern fragrances are losing it in the blast furnace of 90F temps.   I read somewhere that this was Coty’s answer to Chanel No 5 and I can certainly see that – but L’Aimant is a bit more charming in its fizziness, like  – okay, here’s what it’s like:  you really want an icy-cold root beer, but all your gal-pals are swanning around with martinis and you don’t want to look like a dork.  So you order a martini – but lo! and behold….it tastes just. like. that icy-cold rootbeer.  Whoo-hoo!  Eat that cake and have it, too, bay-bee!

Vintage ONLY, mind you.  The current iteration smells like gingerale and cat piss and it makes horses sneeze, not the best thing when you’re smooching a 2000-lb Percheron.  So stick with the vintage – they like the vintage.

Lee: I’ve already said it – I’m wearing Sel de Vetiver and Geranium pour Monsieur most of all (with a splash of Nicolai’s Eau Exotique, some Eau de Guerlain and a little dibble of Declaration – but I’m not allowed to mention those as I have to stick to two, right?). {March: yeah, Lee, because we are all about following the rules here at the Posse.}  Anyways, Sel de Vetiver cuts through the stinky sweatbomb I become in heat to make me refined and sparkling, like moisture on the side of an iced drink. Make mine a mojito, wouldja? Vetiver, cardamom, grapefruit, salt. Exquisite. And Geranium pour Monsieur – you doubting Thomases, naysayers and gloommongerers are missing out. It’s genius how this turns from mint and geranium bright but austere cleanliness to a musk tinged damp incense. That’s all there is to say on the matter. And March – notice how I’m keeping things short nowadays.

March:  I’m going with Ormonde Jayne Champaca, which I’ve been wearing the heck out of this summer (neroli, pink pepper, bamboo, champaca, freesia, basmati, myrrh, green tea, musk) and probably at this point would be on my Desert Island Top 20 list.  OJ Champaca is never wrong, the perfect balance between sweet, spicy, cool and dusky, rice-y without being edible.  Divine.  For my other choice, I’m categorizing:  Dairy Queen scents.  Seriously, it doesn’t always have to be highbrow.  Sometimes, don’t you just want the fragrance equivalent of a Soft-Serv cone with sprinkles?  You know you do.  Summer is perfect for Estee Lauder Bronze Goddess, Coty Sand & Sable, Dior Addict Eau Fraiche, or (high-concept lowbrow) Creed Virgin Island Water.

Nava: One of my selections is an automatic: Philosophy Pure Grace. This is my default, no brainer, non-nausea, non headache inducing summer stand-by and for me, it is enduring and timeless. My skin seems to be pulling a lot of orange blossom out of it these days, and I’m not even sure if orange blossom is in it. Must be the residue of my other current summer fave, Dior Escale à Portofino. So far this summer, orange blossom and almond are standouts that I can’t seem to get enough of, despite the fact that I’ve been missing high summer on the Beltway.  Even my kitschy summer favorites, Creed Virgin Island Water among them, haven’t gotten any love so far. Bond No. 9 Coney Island didn’t make the trip, but I miss it terribly since I’m dealing with the bona-fide stench of garbage courtesy of a local city workers strike. And it reeks far worse than the actual Coney Island ever did.

Patty: (nursing a pint of Guinness, surrounded by shopping bags from Harrods) “Eh?”

For other Top Ten lists, check out Now Smell This, Perfume-Smellin’ Things, Bois de Jasmin and Grain de Musc.

Still a great trip, but we had a surprise!  When we got to Liberty’s on Tuesday, there on the table — I’m getting ahead of myself.  Liberty’s is really an amazing store and my favorite of the department stores we’ve gone to so far.  Gracious, relaxed, interesting selection. They were all simply lovely with all of the traditional British hospitality that it’s easy to get used to.  The store is gorgeous, original building.  Anyway, when you get to London one day, make sure you go to Liberty’s, you will be completely charmed.

Back to the surprise.  We get to the area Liberty’s had arranged for us, and there on the table of newish release is a brand spanking new L’Artisan that none of us had even heard of.  Havana Vanilla.  The twittering around the room was electric as as well anticipated getting a bottle. But, sadly, no. It was an advance bottle, it won’t be released until October.  It’s gorgeous. A somewhat rummy vanilla that feels like it has pineapple and coconut in it, but doesn’t, which is a good thing. It’s not sweet, but you perceive a beach and sun and hot young men with glistening pecs, wonderful drinks with umbrellas and heavy lidded eyes soaked with relaxation.  I loved it.  It worried me a bit because it seemed to disappear for a while, but it’s a sleeper.  It went through a quiet phase and then re-emerged in about an hour. So when you finally get, don’t get discouraged if you think it goes away for a while.  Not sure it does that for everyone.  I don’t have it on now, so details are sketchy and can only give you my impressions from yesterday.  I’m looking forward to its release.

Tuesday was also Miller Harris and Ormonde Jayne.  I’m familiar with both of the lines, so nothing new for me, but, again, the hospitality of both places was above and beyond.  I did snag a Citrone Citron (Citron Citrone?) parfum for me and Louise to split.  Great citrus, and the parfum really stuck.

Today is Roja Dov an Al Quarashi, theater (seeing Wicked) tonight.  This is exhausting, but I’ll sleep when I get back, right?

Miss you all, xoxo!

Only on the Posse could I do a post about petting bees and have commenters come out of the woodwork and admit to being bee-strokers yourselves.  Y’all are freaky, and you know I love you.

In the meantime, all the buzz around MAC’s two new honey scents, Naked Honey and Africanimal, had me driving to the mall toting my two teenage girls, who are probably closer to MAC’s demographic target than I am. (Aside: has anyone ever tried their other fragrances?)  The only comprehensive list of notes I could find was Vika’s on Bois de Jasmin, so acknowledging my thievery here with a link to her informative review (she much preferred Naked Honey.)  Note: there’s also a quickie lipstick update at the end of this post.

I adore honey scents, although they’re kind of an acquired taste. They can be musky or urine-y on the skin, and if you don’t like them, I can’t blame you.  Naked Honey I know has gotten a lot of positive attention; notes are freesia, orange blossom, nigella, honey, honeysuckle, vanilla orchid, woods.

I love the name Naked Honey, but I don’t think it’s the perfect honey scent.   I think it’s the perfect linden scent, which is funny because we were just yarking on the Posse about how it’s quasi-impossible to capture linden (aka tilleul) perfectly.  Part of that is what I label the Atmospheric Conundrum – certain sillage-heavy plant smells (e.g., rose, lilac, linden) take place in my fantasies in a larger environmental context.  The smell of “lilac” in a fragrance often ends up feeling too … static, too dead, because when I get a whiff of my Miss Kim or a great old French lilac outside, I’ve got the whole air/green/grass thing vibrating in my nose as well.  Lilac in a bottle ends up smelling like Glade, which is probably why I like En Passant so much – it’s lilac in some kind of context.

Okay, hauling myself frantically back on topic – you linden lovers tune in, because I’d love your thoughts on Naked Honey.  (Is MAC available in Europe?  I know a lot of our readers across the pond are linden fans.)  I went through a linden jag a couple of years ago, and I think Naked Honey has it all.  Let me quote Dinazad from the Posse recently regarding linden:  linden fragrances tend to be light and airy, but when you’re near a tree, the smell is very tactile, like green-gold velvet. Sometimes I feel I could cut it in tiny, transparent slivers, and those would be very heavy for their size… So.  Naked Honey has both the atmospheric quality of linden – the sense of the tree in a larger green space, like a park – and that heavy, tactile green-gold velvet quality.  The orange blossom and the musky/feety smell reminiscent of hawthorne wander in and out, along with a liquid-green stemmy note.  Lasting power is decent.  It’s not the most complicated scent, but it’s really pretty.  The girls didn’t care for it much, but I think people with a higher tolerance for linden would love it.

In another take, Kevin of Now Smell This finds Naked Honey strongly evocative of black locust trees in his review and recommends layering the two MAC honey scents (dang, I wish I’d tried that.)

Africanimal I don’t think has gotten as much love on the perfume boards. Notes are bergamot, freesia, pink pepper, honey, jasmine, orange blossom, black pepper, oud, patchouli, sandalwood, amber, frankincense, vanilla.  The girls liked Africanimal much better of the two, which makes sense – to me it’s a pleasant, if generic, woody-musk “oriental” with a gourmand note, and I think is a ringer for either Betsey Johnson or Hilary Duff, but to be honest I couldn’t bring myself to try either in this weather.  So if you liked those you would probably like Africanimal.

I’m devoting a separate small paragraph to Africanimal on my 12-year-old.  If you would like to smell a scent at its best, spray it on her and she’ll bring out its maximum performance.  While my other kid and I get Betsey Duff out of Africanimal, my 12-year-old’s skin renders it as dark honey with a dusky, toasted aspect, as if the honeycomb were included and the whole deal had been slightly caramelized and smoked, which also brings out an intensely musky base. It’s stunning on her, and lasted until bedtime.  If I got what she got, I’d own a bottle.  As it is, I’m getting one for her, she really liked it.

The bottles are small and dirt cheap ($25 for 20ml online) and as far as I know they’re a limited edition.

For my other honey-scent reviews on the Posse, see Doctor Strangebuzz and Satan’s Beehive.

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Lipstick Quickie — I popped by the NARS counter to look at some lippies that came up in comments in my recent pink lipstick post.   The surprise hit was Funny Face, which in theory is waaaaay too pink and flashy (it’s a microshimmer duochrome) and I’d need to be in the right mood for it, but somehow it worked and gosh, it’s a fun color.  Thanks, Carter, for the recommendation!  I’m still trying to figure out why it works better than Schiap on me.

Have you all seen the NARS Lip Lacquer?!?  Holy Moley!!!  Why did I not know about this?  It is such a cool product!!  I’m not big on glosses (too sticky with my long hair), and besides, who the hell wants to stick a finger in an ooky lip pot in Sephora while Swine Flu is still making the rounds?  But I’m feeling immortal (due to watching too much True Blood, no doubt) so I slapped on HotWired, here’s a swatch.   It is densely pigmented — almost a lipstick in a pot — no shimmer, not particularly sticky once you get it on and it settles, and the color is simply lovely — a bright neutral pink on Diva’s warm-toned skin, a deeper (but not too blue) pink on me.  It’s interesting – as pink as it gets without wandering into Trampville, intense without being Too Much Look.  Red lip fiends: check out the equally gorgeous, candy-apple Diablo, which is redder in reality than the brown-looking online swatch.

They have several other shades, but some of them are very pale and/or shimmer and Not My Thing.  However — shout-out to Carter and other hot pink gals — if you’re feeling adventurous and the color looks right, try layering HotWired on top of Funny Face for a pink that was bold and flattering yet wasn’t aging on my forty-something face.

I’m really impressed with the Lip Lacquer texture — for something so moist and easy to apply, it is tenacious, lasting through lunch and most of the afternoon with a minor touch-up to even out the color; it functions more like a lip stain with shine but not stickiness.  (It comes in a pot rather than a tube applicator).  My only caveat would be that with color this dense, you need a tissue for your fingertip after applying.  I suppose you could use a brush or applicator but the look might not be as soft.

Greetings from London, y’all!

We all arrived on Sunday, which dictated that we fly on the 4th.  Yeah, like that.  Pile little kids on airplanes on top of just the normal European flights, and it was really sleepy by the time my plane got into London at 8:30 in the morning.  After a long wait for the bus to the hotel, we all got here, reinvigorated with coffee.

But we are talking about perfume/shopping ladies, so that would be a lazy day if we stopped there.  After a quick lunch of fish and chips, we had to investigate Harrod’s, which is in the middle of their summer sale.  I have never in my life seen perfumes and cosmetics on sale at 40 and 50% off. Not all of them, but a goodly amount.  The place was packed, and the bargains were amazing.  Some, but not all, Amouages at 50% off.  Diptyques at 50% off. Some Piguets at 50% off.  But!  It was wall to wall people. You could not even move half the time.  Okay, I’m going back later this week to try it with fewer people.

Then it was off to meet Sylvia and Nicola at Wolesley’s (sp) for afternoon tea.  It’s next to the Ritz on Picadilly, and is the most charming place.  I knew Sylvia and Nicola would be lovely since I’ve chatted them both up via comments and mail, but they are both truly delightful companions.  We chatted about everything, compared perfumes, Nicola pulled out some vintage Magie Noire Sylvia had given her.  Of course there was spritzing!\

Update for Monday: This is going to be short.   Long day, lots of perfumes, mostly centered around Boadicea (sp) the Victorious, which they have at Selfridges and Harrod’s (Selfridge’s was putting on the presentation). This is the line that Michelle Obama bought three of when she was on London for the G20.  Okay, there are 28 perfumes in a line that is 7 months old.  Color me overwhelemed. I’m still sorting them out in my head and will be talking more about them on Thursday or later, as I get time to spend with them.  It’s an interesting line, but I haven’t made up my mind on them yet.  28?!?!?

So far, this has been a great trip.  Wonderful people, perfectly organized by the Karens, and just a blast.  If my internet would behave in my room, I’d write more, but since I’m in the basement of this lovely hotel typing on an inadequate keyboard AND I’ve had three glasses of wine, this is as far as I get for the night. More later, mwah, xoxo!