It is that time of year, when we all turn our noses to look at what has passed by them in 2009 and decide what we loved the most.  We all put our little heads together and tried to come to some agreement.  We didn’t all love them all. Some of them we hated,  some we loved, some of us equally hated and loved the same perfume at the same time, but these are the standouts of the year.

Perfumer of 2009 – Bertrand Duchafour.  His work, whether you like the perfumes personallyor not, for L’Artisan and Comme des Garcons in the past and his new entriees this year for them, as well as Penhaligon’s Amaranthine are great perfumes, diverse and interesting.

New House of the 2009 – Maison Francis Kurkdjian.  Excellent entries from top to bottom.  Interesting, well-made, but all having Kurkdjian’s stamp on them.

Then, without further comment since most of these have been reviewed on this blog, sometimes more than once, these are our Top 20 of 2009:

1. Amouage Tribute Attar
2. Apothia Pearl
3. By Kilian Pure Oud
4. Carol’s Daughter’s Pearls
5. Cartier – L’heure Mysteriuese, L’Heure Brilliante, and La Treizieme Heure
6. Creed Windsor
7. Kenzo UFO
8. L’Artisan al Oudh
9. L’Artisan Havana Vanille
10. La Perla Life Threads
11. Lolita Lempicka Si Lolita Lempicka
12. Natori EDP
13. Parfums DelRae Mythique
14. Penhaligon’s Amaranthine
15. Prada L’Eau Ambree
16. Strange Invisible Perfumes Fire and Cream
17. Soihvohle Oudh Lacquer
18. Soihvohle Love Speaks Primeval
19. Tom Ford Grey Vetiver
20. Van Cleef & Arpels Orchidee Vanille, Bois d’Iris and Muguet Blanc

That’s our list. What’s on yours for 2009?  I’m sure we forgot something or several somethings.

Patty

Alrighty then.  So Monday we tackled most of La Collection; today we’re doing Magie.  And forgive the sporadic posting and response, I’ve got work projects that need to be done in 2009, and the kids are underfoot.  We’ve all had a little too much time together, between the holiday break and the unscheduled snow days, and the twins are turning feral, so that periodically I have to go assess the situation when, for instance, Buckethead gets aggravated with Hecate’s fencing proficiency on the Wii and smacks her upside the head with the controller.

Magie was humorous because first of all, I couldn’t get the stopper out of the bottle.  So I used Melissa and Louise’s trick of placing the bottle in the freezer for a few minutes, et … voila.  It came right out.  So there’s a handy piece of information for you.

Then I broke up another squabble, had some lunch, and threw on a generous amount of Magie.  Notes are jasmine, violets, musk and amber, sorry, that seems a bit short but that’s the most complete list I can find.

Magie is powdery at the top, and sweet – the jasmine is very slightly indolic, but nothing too scary.  Just as I was settling in the house started to shake, and then Amberzilla stomped through the room in a truly terrifying way, and one of these days, so help me God, I’ll learn not to stick my wrist up to my nose right after I’ve put something new on.   That heavy, sweet amber singed all my nose-hairs right off and then it stomped around some more.  And okay, I get it, some of you are true amber lovers.  And I appreciate amber in the abstract, I see the attraction, it can (theoretically) be very comforting.  Alas, I like my amber buried behind a heavy, restraining hand of a bunch of other notes, and this was TOO TOO MUCH.  I lasted about 30 minutes before, tears running from my eyes, I sprinted upstairs and grabbed my uber-skank atomizer of Bal a Versailles EdC – y’all know the one, you twisted perfumistas – that particular version of Bal that smells like they read the recipe wrong and put in twice as much butt as was called for.   Anyhow, a couple of sprays of that pulled Amberzilla’s fangs right out of my wrist.  Then I went off to Trader Joe’s smelling like I’d just ridden in from the Winter Bal Masque, having stepped in something barnyard-y while dismounting my stallion, and oh well.  I tried the whole experiment again today, because apparently I am a slow learner, and same results, only this time I threw some Demeter Bonfire on there to take the edge off. That was nice.  You know what would be really great on top?  Something dark and leathery.

As it stands, then, Magie is the only one of these I probably won’t be wearing.  I may be the sweet-eater but I am the amber-magnifier, and I end up feeling like I’m drowning in a vat of syrup.

Climat, on the other hand, after a few more test drives, has emerged as the surprising front runner.  I just can’t get enough of its weird development – that split personality it has, all green and fizzy and armed-with-a-shiv up top, with those sweet, creamy white florals underneath.  It’s so stunning I keep putting it on over and over, just for the ride.  I can’t even say that I particularly love it, I don’t think it’s “me” at all – and thank heavens it’s in a dabber, this is some serious sillage, I wouldn’t want to dump this bottle on myself accidentally.  But it’s so arrestingly beautiful I want to wear it again and again.

By the way, I dug around, here’s a link to the page where you can download Luca Turin’s original blog posts via a PDF.  “The Lost Chord,” where he tells the story of searching many years later for the mystery perfume he smelled on a girl while on a trip to Spain, is on page 386.  Page 426 is the update, where he begins to focus his search, with the names Je Reviens and Climat emerging.  I’m annoyed that I can’t seem to find the final post (maybe it was on NZZ?) where he reveals that after sampling around, it was Climat he’d been searching for.

I found the Lost Chord posts (and many of the others on his defunct blog) wildly entertaining, and the comments are lively.  And no, I’ve never met the man, and no, his opinions don’t bother me.  I’ve always been baffled by the complaint that his perfume reviews (or Chandler Burr’s, or – hey – mine) are “opinion.”  Well, of course they’re opinion, folks!  Criticism, informed and otherwise, whether of art, music, literature, and perfume, is at some level opinion.  When LT and I agree – hey, he’s spot on.  The man’s a genius.  When we disagree, well … he’s wrong, isn’t he?  It’s nothing to cry over.  If someone can direct me to Luca’s big reveal and discussion of Climat (was it in one of his books?) I’ll publish the link.

March

Sorry, the scheduling piece of the blog decided to sleep in this morning.

Did everyone who celebrates it have a nice Christmas?  Mine was lovely and quiet and weird. But those are the best kind.

Speaking of weird. Well, not really weird, weirdly interesting.  I got a teensy drop of the Amouage Al Shomukh Attar.

For those of you that like your ouds to smoke – pitch, tar, leather, vetiver, burning souls, pitchforks, demons and other things that go bump in the night – well, hurry up and get some before they break the first four seals and the Four Horsemen show up.

It does settle into a pretty hot smoky leather after 30 minutes or so, but that only smooths out some of the rough edges and makes it run a little hotter.  The Davana takes it  out of all smoke and leather, which is a nice, light touch in an otherwise fairly outspoken scent.  The musk in it is fairly animalic, but with the strong smokiness, it doesn’t feel quite as bloomer’ish as it could, but you certainly do notice that you are discharging some Grade-A smuttiness as you move through space.

Out of all the Amouage attars, it’s not my favorite to wear regularly, but it’s incredibly interesting and has been my favorite just to sniff for all the changes and angles it has.  Tribute is taking all the love for me as my go-to uber-expensive attar.  Al Shomukh doesn’t seem as loud as Tribute in terms of sillage. Tribute leaves a devastating wake as you walk.  Shomukh just keeps telling you you’re already in the handbasket, you might as well have a good time on the trip down.

Patty

I had a heckuva Christmas weekend playing with the new Wii Sports whatever, and Nok-Hockey, and various other toys.  Buckethead got a totally inappropriate rocket that flies up a gazillion feet that’s powered with some sort of explosive device, which the Big Cheese assembled.  And then we all put our boots on and trudged down to the ballfield to set it off, and what a riot.  I can’t believe how high it flies, and then the parachute floats it back down.  Of course my entire downstairs now smells like cordite, because God forbid we leave that thing outside on the porch.  The Cheese is going to have to trudge back out to Guns, Ammo ‘n Lionel Trains (no, seriously, and how American is that?) to get some more incendiary devices.  Tonight we took advantage of the melting snow and brief bout of warmish, non-rainy weather to go see the local light display at Brookside Gardens.

So this post is a little sketchy, but I thought I’d review what I got — Lancome La Collection — for Christmas.  I remember seeing the individual fragrances on the Lancome counters for about, oh, six minutes when they were released a few years ago, and the Lancome ladies always acted like they were ashamed of them.  They kept stashing them behind the counter.  Anyhow, I remember thinking nice! And then poof, they were gone, and I never got to smell them again.  The four in the set were supposed to be re-releases from the Lancome back catalog, although I’ve never smelled the originals, so I can’t speak to their vintage accuracy – if anyone else would like to do so, please do.

Here’s some notes from Perfumania: “Magie, an Amber Floral scent featuring Jasmine, Violet and Musk is from 1950. Climat, a Green Floral fragrance featuring Lily of the Valley, Narcissus, Heliotrope and Vetiver was launched in 1967. Sikkim, an Oriental Floral scent with Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Oakmoss and Galbanum came out in 1971 and Sagamore, for men, is a Fresh Woody scent that was launched in 1985.”

At least right this second, Perfumania is running a buy one, get the second for 50% off deal, so you can get two sets of them for $105 total if you want to organize a split or keep one to give as a gift.   Each pretty stoppered flacon is half an ounce of EdP (so I think that totals 60ml per set if I’m doing the math right, for $50ish), and someone on the DC perfumista board mentioned that she thought the set originally retailed for $150, so that’s a great deal.

While I’m rambling, I may as well add here that there were several other (LE?) scents re-released that aren’t in this particular set, and maybe not part of La Collection, but were in the same gorgeous stoppered bottles, including Cuir, a makeup-powder-glove leather which I adore (and bought a bottle of) but which bitterly disappointed fans of the original, much more leathery scent.  There was Mille & Une Roses, a rose scent which several of you liked very much, and … that other one that bored the crap out of me.  Peut-Etre, which all I got was powder.  Someone chime in here and tell me how great it is.

I dove right in to my gift set with Sikkim, which is the one I remembered liking best.  You know I love me some heavy-handed floriental.  It’s – oh, wait, BACKTRACKING -

The GREATEST thing about this set of fragrances is the monumental whiff of “old lady” I get when I pop the top of the box off.  You know … that mixture of galbanum, musk, oakmoss, castoreum and god-knows-what that makes Britney fans throw up a little in their mouths.  Just taking the top off the set and smelling the miasma is a delight.

So. Sikkim.  Here’s a more complete list of notes cribbed from The Perfumed Court: aldehydes, ylang ylang, bergamot, galbanum, gardenia, thujone, carnation, jasmine, narcissus, orris, rose, amber, castoreum, leather, moss, patchouli and vetiver.  Big opening, a poke right between the eyes with the sharp stick of galbanum and all those creamy white florals.  Then this wonderfully sweaty part comes out on me, which I think must be the castoreum, maybe aided by the narcissus, and that is love love love. I wish the dirty bits lasted longer – it’s missing from the drydown, at least to my nose, which is sort of when you expect some of those intensely animalic notes to appear.   Once the jasmine and ylang settle, this is definitely more bitter than sweet – you can smell the wormwood and leather for sure.  I think this would smell great on a man.  It’s a really interesting fragrance, probably not everyone’s cup of tea, feels very old-fashioned without being dull.  It does go a bit powdery on me eventually but not frighteningly so.  Drydown could last a little longer (I got maybe four hours, but I applied pretty lightly).  Two thumbs up.  I probably wouldn’t wear this to the office, it’s the sort of scent I can really see getting on a fragrance-hater’s nerves in the next cubicle over.

Sagamore is the men’s offering (I think some of the original La Collection gift sets had Mille & Une Roses in its place).  Again, I have no way to compare it to the original 1985 scent.  Here’s a more extensive list of notes cribbed from Fragrantica: “lavender, clary sage, petit grain, bergamot and lemon; middle notes are carnation, ginger, cinnamon, jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, rose and geranium; base notes are sandalwood, amber, patchouli, musk, benzoin, vanilla and styrax.”

Can I just say?  Yum.  At the top you gotcher lavender, yer petitgrain and citrus blah blah – but (and I’m thinking it’s the benzoin/vanilla end of those notes) in my opinion a woman could wear this and it doesn’t smell like you’re wearing a Generic Guy Cologne.  It was spicy, powdery, woody and sweet on me, and I thought the lavender was lovely and I don’t even care for lavender particularly.  I don’t see too many reviews of this, and the few on Basenotes are kind of meh.  But I think it’s well worth smelling.  One review on Basenotes calls it a “masculine floral” and that’s the perfect description – not an attenuated, butched-up feminine, but a reasonably flowery scent that is woody as well.  Again – regular readers know I am in total support of switching it up – in fact I love really “feminine” scents like Fracas on guys, and vice versa.  I’m just saying that, within the confines of some of the notes that in modern perfumery signal man-scent, this manages to be both interesting and beautiful.

Climat was the one I was dubious about, and what an idiot I am.  First off I am pretty sure Climat is the one that Luca Turin told the great story about hunting down (on his now-defunct personal blog) along with the help, I think, of Octavian.  And apparently there was an interim period when the Climat version being made was terrible.  But according to The Guide it was properly resurrected for La Collection, and LT gives it four stars and calls it an “abstract floral” and “excellent.”  Here’s a more extensive list of notes from Fragrantica: violet, peach, jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, bergamot, rose and narcissus; middle notes are aldehydes, rosemary and tuberose; base notes are sandalwood, tonka bean, amber, musk, civet, bamboo and vetiver.

Anyway, I was a bit afraid of Climat.  I’m not a huge fan of super-dry aldehydes, which on me are too aloof and uncompromising, and I feel the same way about intensely green scents (particularly ones with LOTV), which I find interesting but unwearable.  Climat is something else entirely.  I feel as if I’m smelling two perfumes at once – the soaring, verdant, aldehydic/grassy top (think something like Cristalle) and a stunning, waxy-rich gardenia-ish floral down low which makes the whole thing work, at least on me.  I understand how the smell of this fragrance might have haunted Luca Turin for years (decades?) until he put the call out on his blog to try to identify the fragrance.  The drydown, once the aldehydes and green notes fade, is spectacularly lovely, like honey with its sweetness cut with vetiver.  I think this would be wonderful on a man, by the way.  I’m going to guess that aldehyde and green freaks might find it a disappointment, particularly if your skin really brings out the sweet, but I think it’s a monumental fragrance.  In terms of the idea of how a great fragrance can move you to a new place, a place that you didn’t know existed, this is it.

Magie I haven’t tried yet and will probably review on Wednesday, this is long enough already.

I would describe these scents as classic and elegant, in the manner of, say, Chanel.  Taken together they’re much different (and much more appealing to me) than the rest of the offerings of the Lancome perfume lineup, many of which smell peculiar to me and several of which I loathe.  So if you’re put off by the Lancome name, fear not.  If you’re a fan as I am of “old lady” scents and didn’t get around to trying these during their brief appearance, you might want to consider a set (and no, I’m not making money off anyone selling them.  I just think they’re great.)  If you fall in love with one of them, it looks like they can all be found individually from various discounters.

illustration (although the long box is nice too): lancomespain.com.  The bottles are small, simple, elegant stoppered flacons with a nice weight to them.

March

So this is one of Those Posts.  You know, the March Is Oversharing ones.  But not too much, I hope.

As many of you know, because I’ve blogged about it before, I had kind of a mixed-bag relationship with my mom, who died a long time ago.  When I was a kid, though – one great time of year was Christmas.  My mom poured her heart and soul into it.  She loved Christmas, and Christmas loved her right back.  For years, I shopped for a special ornament for her to hang on our tree.  After she was gone, this time of year often made me sad.

But the great thing about time is it gives you perspective.  Once I was able to consider my mother from the point of view of adulthood in my 30s and 40s, rather than the anxious-to-please 10-year-old that I’d once been, I could see that my mother did the best she knew how, gave the very best she had to offer, for us at all times.  I could appreciate her frustrations with her adult life, in which she was unhappy in large part because she’d found her own options so limited.  I understood how she must have felt, and how her anger and sadness were really directed at herself, and her life, rather than at us.

This holiday season has a lot of ups and downs for everyone.  But as we decorate the tree and listen to Christmas music and bake cookies and cope with the snow and make (and unmake) various plans for the holidays, I find myself blessed with a great deal of happiness and peace, as much as I’m likely to find in this world, anyway.

The perfumes of this season are for me the most festive ones, that go with the smells of the holiday.  It’s not quite time yet for the massive comfort fixes – the vanillas and soft musks of January and February, like a downy pillow.  Instead this is the time to bust out the new Annick Goutal Noel roomspray, with its smell of a holiday florist shop – camphor, greenery, and chilled florals (I somehow missed Kevin’s great review on NST, here’s a link.)  It’s the time for that wee bottle of the wonderful, discontinued Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Winter Delice (notes: Ginger, Norway Pine, labdanum Rock Rose, Vanilla, Gingerbread, Incense), and its tupenic cousin Serge Lutens Fille en Aiguilles.  Yves Saint Laurent Nu, which I mentioned in comments recently, seems like the perfect holiday incense, not too churchy and with a faint hint of sweetness.

For parties and cocktails — and, what the hey, sledding and trips to the grocery store in the snow – there’s the big guns: Mitsouko, vintage Femme, Cinnabar parfum, and a teeny, thumbnail sized bottle of vintage Youth Dew Bath Oil that has lasted me forever because you only need a toothpick-sized drop.  The Youth Dew was not love at first sniff – if I recall correctly, I went something like, ew, what the hell is that?   But that funny oil has emerged as a holiday front runner.  It speaks in a deep voice and it says EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE JUST FINE, and it says it like that, in all caps, because there’s nothing shy or indecisive about Youth Dew Bath Oil.  And finally, there’s the rich, honeyed embrace of Teo Cabanel Alahine, and Serge Lutens (no-cedar) Cedre.  All of these with a touch of red lipstick, of course, even if it’s only for a trip to the mailbox.  At night, wearing Barbara Bui to bed is always a good choice (like putting on a pair of flannel pajamas), and then there are the last bits of my sample of CB I Hate Perfumes’ Winter 1972, with its magical touch of metallic coldness, and the damp of wet mittens, and frozen earth.

What are your scents of the season?  Are you getting any special perfume gifts?   I know I’ve got Lancome’s La Collection under the tree… what do I wish Santa would bring me?  A bottle of Ormonde Jayne Champaca, or a bottle of Serge Lutens Miel de Bois.

March