This isn’t the post I’d planned, but it’s the one you’re getting.

After Louise left Paris, Angie and I spent a fair amount of time on our long walks those last few days talking about what we were bringing home from the trip.  And by “bringing home,” we meant ideas, new points of view or reference – those sorts of intangibles that can extend the joy of a vacation forward (and onward) into the lives we lead regularly.  I talked, I think, mainly about my garden – which I’d pulled out right before the trip.  Don’t worry, ecstatic green-thumb neighbors came over at my listserv invitation and dug the shrubs and plants up and took them.  Now I’m left with mostly nothing out front and various ideas about how it might become more formal, more restrained.

I only bought one perfume as a token of the trip – from the Parfums de Nicolai store on the Rue Grenelle near the Bon Marche, and I recommend this as a must-do for anyone who wants to drink deep from the chalice of PdN.  I think Louise and Angela both made purchases, and the extremely knowledgeable and gracious sales associate (Rebecca? Deborah?) was a joy to spend an hour with.  Anyhow, I bought the last-ish bottle of their discontinued LE parfum d’ambience called Parfum de Fete, about which I know nothing except that it’s going to be reissued as part of their regular room spray collection, with a different name (perhaps to avoid being confused with Temps d’Une Fete).  On me – yes, of course I’m wearing it on my skin – it’s all warm pipe smoke and honey, drying down to honey honey honey, with a  spice-wood note like that of CdG Palisander bringing some good cheer along for the ride.   I also put on Odalisque in the shop as a joke; it seemed so very much not me with all of its muguet-soap top fading to a powdery floral, and kill.me.now (notes: LOTV, jasmine, iris).  Only fate laughs at me for the fool that I am, and I can’t stop thinking about the drydown, sweet candied jasmine with a hint of skank; it’s the only non-purchase I regret.  But that’s remedied easily enough online here in the U.S., and PdN makes those great small bottles.

But I won’t be buying Odalisque, not this week.  Because events collided oddly.  I wanted so much to hold on to that wonderful sense of peace and place I bring home from a vacation.  Time stepping out of my “normal” life is clearly part of maintaining my sanity.  But bit by bit it was slipping away, back into Angry Suburban Idiot Mom mode – plus there was Hecate with her intractable night-time cough; and my brief but nasty personal bout of what I think was food poisoning last weekend.  And the dog, our sub-standard poodle, Kai, who’s sick with something and the vet’s not sure and he’s 11 and … well, you never know.  I, who complain sometimes about that damn dog breathing my air, have been getting up every night with him, on my knees in front of him, holding a small bowl so he’ll drink some chicken broth.  I don’t know.  He seems a little better.  He kept some soup down today, but he’s weak.  Nobody’s getting enough sleep.  The Big Cheese is leaving for China on Thursday for an extended trip, and you know what?  I don’t have dog dies scheduled anywhere on my calendar, so he better not.  No freaking way.  No dying.

So then I pitched a fit – one of those crap-related fits about the creeping loads of crap that pile up all over the house, I hate disorder (yeah, which is why I had four kids, deep thinker that I am) – piles and drifts of clothes and plastic and toy parts and we did a purge and still.  It drifts in.  So I started this conversation on FaceBook and I’m bringing it on here and laying it down.  You don’t have to pick it up if you don’t want to, it’s my little experiment.  But if you want to play – starting today, Wednesday, for the next week you will limit your purchases to only the most basic necessities  – and no b.s.’ing yourself about what a “necessity” is. I’m talking simple food (no, you don’t need the $5 pint of kiwi-mango gelato), gas, stuff like that.  No mall runs, emergency lipstick, drunken eBay bids on Dioressence extrait at 1 a.m. – no Starbucks, people!   No movies!   You can go ahead and do things you’ve already bought tickets for, but no goodies at halftime (or intermission.)  No online shopping.  No no no. Ask yourself, when your eye/heart starts to drift: do I really need that?  And then back away.

Can I do this for a week?  Eh.  I’m not sure.  But I’m curious enough to try.  I need more possessions like I need a third eye.  So far I got through today with nothing more than taking Hecate (finally) to the pediatrician about the Nighttime Cough From Hell, which will abate eventually whether we do anything or not, our annual springtime allergy ritual.  Turned down therapeutic coffee at Sbux (sad face).  Stayed off eBay.  Worked.  Also I thought I’d up the ante by quitting drinking coffee altogether, I haven’t had any since the Saturday food poisoning episode.  I’ve had this massively irregular heartbeat recently, and I’m wondering if all the Sudafed/caffeine’s the culprit.  (Filed under: duh.) Let’s find out.  Sure, it’ll be miserable, but I’m like that – why not take away the coffee, decongestant, booze (yes, it’s true!) and retail therapy all at the same time? Maybe my head will cave in and life as I know it will be over, but I doubt it.

So.  Your turn at the microphone.  Are you going to join in, and check back with us next week on how your Week of Consumer Abstinence went?  Patty’s accepted my challenge, she’s playing as well, and we’ll blog on it!  Do you think I am an idiot?  A killjoy?  Do you have specific questions for us to debate (or possibly mock) regarding what constitutes a necessity in your world?   What’s your favorite Parfums de Nicolai scent, anyway?  Is Odalisque really All That?  What is wrong with me that after several attempts I have failed to fall in love properly with PdN Sacrebleu – some glitch in the planetary alignment?   Do you feel consumed by the desire to consume?  And PS – yeah, I know, I hardly invented this concept.  Oh!  I should mention that the straw that put the camel’s MasterCard on temporary lockdown was my sitting down last night, a quiet time-out in the living room post-snit, and reading an article in the Sunday NY Times about Annie Leonard and the (warning! anti-consumerist!) Story of Stuff.

March

Winner of the bottle of Andy Tauer’s new Orange star is – Janell.  Please hit the contact us link on the left, let me know your name, address, and I’ll send that on to Luckyscent, who will send you your bottle. Congrats!!!

Because Carter gave the best case for why she needs something happy, I’m going to share some of my sample with her. So re-send me your address, dear, and I’ll send you part of mine.

Canturi perfume is available exclusively at Bergdorf Goodman, introduced by an Australian jewelry brand I’ve never heard of.  Created by perfumer Kevin Verspoor, it has notes of bergamot, mandarin leaves, neroli, rose damascene, night-blooming jasmine, iris, lily of the valley, white pepper, cardamom, patchouli, red cedar, oakmoss, amber, musk and vanilla.

Canturi is really lovely.  For the winter or fall.  This makes some sense if I remember that it’s Australia and this is going into their fall and winter, yes?  It is a rich, spicy floral, very oriental.  It makes me think of Cinnabar and Opium and Poison, full of rich, warm, spicy florals, with a lush vanilla backdrop. It’s not as heavy as those, which is nice, and I could probably even wear it through May, but after that, I’m thinking a big no.  Shame.  So when fall hits and you’re wanting something new in the floriental category that is beautifully  made and warm, Canturi is it. There’s nothing groundbreaking or new here, but it’s certainly a nice entry into the oriental category. The bottle is nice as well. $140 for 100 mls at Bergdorf Goodman.

Since we could only do one winner of the Tauer bottle, let’s give away 3 samples of this to commenters.  So drop a note with whatever you’re wearing at the moment (fragrance-wise, perverts, not clothing!) and loving or hating.

Patty

Paris was full of surprises for me – things I’d not seen or done or noticed on previous trips.  One day Angie and I took the Metro up to the canals which are I think in the northeast part of the city.   We walked along them for awhile, enjoying the sunny day, before having an excellent lunch at a café recommended by a friend of Angie’s.  On another day (several days, actually) I accomplished my goal, weather permitting, of simply stopping somewhere in the Jardin du Luxembourg, which was very near our apartment, for some lolling about.  Folks go on vacations – group, family, single; luxury or budget– with all sorts of agendas, and mine is never the see-it-all, military-precision checklist that my parents had.   No, on my trips I have to stop and smell the roses – or the grappa, the Sancerre, the local boar sausage, the cheeses, the specialty coffee, or whatever else might be on offer, preferably in a café with strategic people-watching advantages.

In Paris, as you know, you can visit the sacred groves of Serge, the valley of the IUNXen, worship with the priestesses of de Nicolai, etc.  This is no surprise.  You know what is a surprise?  Or at least, it was to me – the phenomenal range of things, some of which I never see in stores in the U.S., available at Sephora and Marionnaud.

Everyone in the U.S. knows Sephora, right?   Light Blue and Lola on the left, Polo Black and Dior Homme on the right, MAC and Stila in the middle.  (Skincare in the back.)   I visited two Sephoras in Paris – one on the Champs-Elysees, right next door to Guerlain, and the second on the Rue Rivoli, and the contrast was striking in terms of inventory.

First off, those stores are huge – maybe three times the size of the Sephoras in my city.  I mostly bypassed the makup, which – I assume owing to the exchange rate – seemed much pricier in Paris.  For instance, OPI was roughly $20 a bottle.  Instead, I wandered up and down the perfumed periphery, admiring the jaw-dropping selection.

Sure, they have the usual crap found at standard Sephoras, arranged mostly in alphabetical order.  Stroll along, though,  and what else do you find?  Well, how about most of the Serge Lutens export line?  (I watched women apply them — three or four generous sprays seems to be the norm.)   Oh, look – and here, stacked up like cordwood, are the Van Cleef & Arpels Extraordinaire fragrances.    Yes, they have plenty of Mugler Angel – but they also have the Mugler Miroirs collection, which I only saw in one place in the US – the Saks in New York.

Dior, Dior, Dior – oh, look, here’s Addict and J’Adore and all the Poisons and — holy cow, they have JULES!!!  70 euros for 100ml!  Just sitting there like it’s a bottle of Azzaro Chrome.  They have enough Givenchy Amarige in a single store to kill all the residents of Paris, but they also have Les Mythiques – Le De, Vetyver and the rest, including one I’d not even seen before, Extravagance de Amarige.  No, seriously – what is up with that?  Is that for the people for whom Amarige the original is not quite strangly enough?  That’s like needing the Poison extrait.  (Oh, btw, I asked after Poison extrait at Bon Marche, and we’ll get to that in another installment on the Dior extraits, but she laughed at me.  My Poison Esprit d’Parfum is apparently as far as Dior was willing to go.)  Anyhow, I sprayed on Extravagance and waited for death, but it didn’t come – if anything it seemed like a more fruital variation of the original.   Special note on Organza Indecence, in case you’re bored with stalking vintage bottles on eBay – the Mythiques version of OI seems slightly less intensely vanillic than my older bottle, and the Mythiques has a somewhat richer, (likely faux) sandalwoody base; it’s hard to compare old and new, but if it’s been tweaked, I thought it was gorgeous.  I still can’t decide how I feel about Givenchy Insense, but Angie liked it.

The new Prada infusions I wrote about already.  Their hugely popular things in-store were the new, ghastly fruital Ricci Ricci in the red bow bottle which I think just won a FiFi award?, and go on, it’s all yours, you can have it.   The number one seller in Sephora, and perhaps all over Paris, is the brand new Dior Eau Demoiselle, a familiar fruity musk with a very sweet top.  I’ve smelled worse, it reminds me of a cross between something like Miss Dior Cherie and D&G The One, and really – it’s not that it’s terrible, but you could do so much better, right there in that store.

The Van Cleef Oriens is a not terribly interesting fruitchouli-musk, not overly sweet, and I admit my inner magpie is deeply covetous of the bottle.  Again, my apologies for no images on here – but if you google it that giant gemstone thing on the top is in fact the cap and weighs a ton and in its own odd, luminous kitch way is kind of fabulous.

What else do they have?  Well, how about Chloe, new and old, right next to each other?   Or all the Cacharels I never see on a shelf (Anais Anais, Lou Lou, etc.)  The John Galliano I didn’t even know about.  I’m a huge fan of the bizarre Diptyque room spray with his name on it, and I was a bit disappointed in his fragrance, a much more conventional woody-spicy with what I think was rose.

I visited several Marionnauds, which I’ve seen elsewhere in Europe.  I’m not sure we have an equivalent store here; they’re smaller than Sephora and less splashy, and they tend to be tucked into the odd corner here and there in downtown areas.  Even those stores, though, are full of treasures I have never seen on a shelf in a “regular” perfume store in the U.S. – how about some Rochas Femme, Madame, or Eau? Remember Guy Laroche Fidji?  We were just talking about it on the Posse a couple weeks ago.  It may not be what it once was, I couldn’t say, but it still smelled gorgeous, a green floral.   One of the stores had the Ego Factos, which were fun to sample – Poopoo Pidoo never quite lived up to my rice-steam expectations (I wonder if I’m anosmic?) but I liked Sacré Coeur, with Chablis, leather, citrus and patchouli.  The L´Eau d´Issey Fleur de Bois (LE?), “where wood and water meet,” was the predicably aquatic nightmare on my skin, fun in a kind of horror-show way, like drowning in an endless sea of watery mimosa, although the bottle is very pretty.

The two biggest revelations for me of this extended browse?   The first is Eau de Rochas, thanks to Angie, who got it down and sprayed it.  Here’s a link to her review, and she’s right – it’s a great cologne and I think she totally hits it in her description.  While it’s plenty citrusy and tart up top, it has a musky warmth at the bottom, a “soft landing” as she describes it, that makes it stand out.

The second, in the how-have-I-missed-this department, was Dior Dune, demonstrating that no matter how hard you sample the perfumes, there’s always a new/old discovery just around the corner.  I’m hardly unaware of Dune, and how LT describes it as something like massively depressing (which tantalizes me) and then gives it five stars.  In fact, I am certain I must have picked up Dune and sprayed it on at some point.  But the Paris Marionnaud was perhaps the first time that (the Ego Factos having been something of a simple-smell flop) I put it on and really paid attention.

Dune’s a floriental with notes of bergamot, mandarin, palisander, aldehyde, peony, broom, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, lily, wallflower, lichen, vanilla, patchouli, benzoin, sandalwood, amber, oakmoss, and musk.  I didn’t find it menacing, although I agree with “dissonant but interesting” from The Guide.   It was like seeing a lady on the street who is so eccentrically dressed I can’t stop staring.   The top was sharp and resiny/green on my skin, leading to a drydown that was warm and rich and unfamiliar and more than a little strange.  I only got that one shot at it, but  I came home and bought what I think is a vintage bottle on eBay.  I’ll let you know how it turns out.

March

Yeah, I know; I should be tied to a tree and pelted mercilessly with rotten eggs. Haven´t we already established that SJP NYC is just another addition to the vast pile of fruity floral bombs that doesn´t need any more editorializing? Well, I just can´t help myself.

When Sarah Jessica Parker released Lovely, her first scent post Sex and the City, I was intrigued. I liked Lovely, but it was very reminiscent of Narciso Rodriguez´s eponymous scent, and I could take it or leave it. For me, the best part about it was the bottle.

Then, I read Chandler Burr´s opus, The Perfect Scent, which described in detail how hands-on SJP was in the creation of her first fragrance. If his account is accurate, Ms. Parker was involved in every aspect from the creation of the juice to its marketing and advertising. Reading that, and knowing she favoured off the beaten path scents – I believe her signature concoction is a blend of West Village street musk oil, Comme des Garà§ons Incense Avignon and Bonne Bell Skin Musk – made me view her creation in a different light.  Lovely is no Britney Spears teeth rotting, Steel Magnolia/cupcake mash-up; and, I have to admit that I admire SJP for putting a bit of her real self out there for the masses to judge. And judge we did.

Her follow-up to Lovely, Covet, and its flanker, Covet Pure Bloom, were not as well received. I happened to like Covet – with its lemony, earthy geranium and chocolate vibe, but Pure Bloom was as vile as a $5 bodega bouquet. Then came The Lovely Collection; a trio of scents named Dawn, Endless and Twilight.

Unfortunately, SJP´s foray into the celebrity scent arena has been hugely disappointing. Lovely is getting harder to find, Covet and Covet Pure Bloom are nowhere to be found, and the Lovely Collection of scents has been banished to the bottom shelves in places like Ulta and Shoppers Drug Mart. It´s interesting that this modern style icon struck out so badly in the scent category, and I think I know why: she attempted to peddle scents that were unappealing to the masses. She took a major brand (Coty) along for the ride, and it didn´t turn out to be the cash cow everyone was expecting; hence her latest offering.

I won´t pretend to have the inside scoop about why SJP NYC is a total departure from her previous scents, but I think I can flesh out the reasons, based on my wealth of inherent cynicism: SJP most likely owed Coty one more go-round on the fragrance ride, and since the latest Sex and the City movie is due to be released next month, they decided to take advantage of the pink elephant in the room, Parker´s alter ego, Carrie Bradshaw. In the interest of not unleashing yet another commercial stink bomb, they decided to tie it in with the film release, and refer to the scent as “something Carrie Bradshaw would wear”. Really? The fictional character who owned every Fendi handbag ever created and made Manolo Blahnik a household name now traipses around Manhattan in 6 inch platform Christian Louboutins smelling for all the world like a strawberry Lip Smacker? Come on! If you believe that, I´ve got a bridge to sell you.

I used to be a huge fan of the series Sex and the City. I own the DVDs. I watch them on occasion, when I find myself missing New York. Growing up in Brooklyn and working in Manhattan in my 20s, I sometimes wish that Carrie Bradshaw´s Manhattan was my Manhattan back in the day. When I worked at 51^st Street and 6^th Avenue, the coolest thing about it was the Sam Goody store on the ground floor of my building and the TGI Fridays down the street. There was no Today Show studio and the GE building wasn´t referred to as “30 Rock”. Saks Fifth Avenue was just another department store (that none of us could afford to shop in), and Bergdorf Goodman had about half a dozen cosmetic counters on its main floor.  The best lunches could be had at the employee cafeteria in the McGraw Hill building, and after work, we went out for beers and Blue Whales at Houlihans, and scoffed at all the tourists having their pre-theatre dinners.  Not exactly the life of a hip and trendy New Yorker, but I´ve made my peace with it and moved on.

Sadly, the legacy of Sex and the City the series has nothing valuable to offer; unless you happen to consider over-the-top consumerism valuable. However, you can take a Sex and the City Manhattan bus tour that stops at places like Magnolia Bakery and Pastis, where Carrie ate cupcakes and oysters, and of course, the Manolo Blahnik store, where she bought her legendary $400 strappy sandals. The real life struggles of single women in Manhattan all boil down to where you eat, which purse you carry, and who designed your shoes. I know that sounds terribly reductionist, but we all knew someone who wanted to be Carrie, Samantha, Miranda or Charlotte, drank Cosmopolitans and wished for a wealthy investment banker to get down on bended knee and propose.

As for SJP NYC, it really does smell like a strawberry Lip Smacker. That´s not necessarily a bad thing. If it had some grapefruit, it would be Marc Jacobs Daisy.

Will I go see Sex and the City 2? Hell yes… You can take the girl out of New York, but you can never take New York out of the girl.

Some of you may remember a couple of years ago, I decided to do eyelash extensions.  I have plenty of eyelashes, they’re long enough and thick enough, but they are blond and fine. If I don’t throw on some kind of liner or mascara, I have no eyes.

That first round of extensions took 2 1/2 hours to put on, and they started coming out in a week, heavily on one side that I slept on.  Given the cost and having to refill every three weeks with lashes coming out quite a lot in between, it got crossed off of things I wanted to maintain.

Until now.  I tried again with someone else, someone that does almost exclusively lashes, and that’s it.  The first time I had them done by someone who did fine, but it was just an extra service they did.  It makes all the difference.  Mandy put on my lashes in an hour, I’ve had them a week, and I haven’t noticed any lashes coming out, they look as good today as they did a week ago.  This is what I wanted.  I wake up every morning with my eyes on. I just run an eyelash comb through them to separate, and I can go out the door and do nothing else to my face and get through the day.

The cost is still a big drawback.  $250 for the initial install and then $70 every three weeks or so for maintenance.  Worth it?  This time, yeah, with this aesthetician.  It makes all the difference. So if you’ve tried them before with someone who didn’t do pretty much exclusively lashes and weren’t that happy, you might try again.  She was more expensive for the initial application, but to be this happy with the results makes it completely worth it.

I have my Tauer Orange Star sample!  It’s been a training week at my real job, so I’ve had zero time to spend time with it, but it’s definitely Tauer richness, interesting.   Because I haven’t had enough time to do more than just sniff at it and go ah, yum!  I’m not going to review it until I can.  Also, I didn’t choose a winner yet for the Orange Star bottle courtesy of Andy and Luckyscent because we’re still getting comments on that post, but I will pick the winner via random number draw next Tuesday!

Patty