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?

March

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 Lancà´me´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.?

Patty

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.

March

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.

Patty