Lately, it’s all I can do to keep my laptop from melting, between the heat and the constant use, but the one thing I have on ice right now are those Humiecki and Graef samples I’ve been meaning to review. I still haven’t had the opportunity to give them more than a cursory sniff, and I really want to do them justice.

While I hear the east coast of the US is definitely getting walloped with the heat (would you people prefer MORE snow?), it’s pretty steamy here as well. I’ve got a limited rotation of scents in use that, at this point, I’m barely tolerating. They are Dior’s Escale à Portofino, Hermessence Rose Ikebana, and Prada Infusion d’Iris. There are worse trios out there (The Jonas Brothers, anyone?), so considering the climate, I don’t think I’m doing too badly.

The surprising element to all three of my choices is that they’re hanging around pretty impressively. In the past, all three never ceased to amaze me with their lack of tenacity, but now, they hang on for dear life. Here I sit, almost 9 hours after blasting myself with Infusion, and I’m still rockin’ it. Same with Rose and Escale of late; what gives? I could make a fried egg for dinner using the grease on my face – that’s to be expected, but these three hanging around? Never woulda thought it was possible. I’m almost tempted to re-test Brin de Reglisse, since the last time I tried it, it was gone in 60 seconds.

I hate to cut things short today, but work is calling. Actually, “work” is a pleasant euphemism for my pain-in-the-ass colleague who tortures me all day long via Yahoo Messenger. A copy writer’s work is never done, as I am quickly learning. But, really, it’s a labour of love. Don’t let all my kvetching fool you.

Disclosure: That is Lily, my cat, and those are my bottles.

I’m going to beg off today on a post, and my apologies.  Traveling back always takes a lot more out of me than I think it will, and I can barely keep my poor eyes open.

I do promise pictures of the scarves on Tuesday!

What perfumes perk you up when you are just dog tired? Or can perfume even do that?

Patty

Let’s do the draw first, which I know everyone wants.  The winners of the two bottles of Tauer Perfumes’ new Carillon pour un ange, selected via random.org are:  Akimon and Dinazad. Congratulations!  I’ll email you for your mailing addresses, and LuckyScent will send the bottles.  To the rest of you – hey, I never win these things either.  On to today’s review.

In all my white-flower nattering recently, several people left comments asking: had I tried LesNez’ Manoumalia?  And what did I think?

LesNez has done some interesting scents – my favorite is probably the violet-green-bean Unicorn Spell – and they also get props for not flooding the market with a new fragrance every six weeks.  Look on LuckyScent and there’s a total of five – a model of restraint, these days.  Turtle Vetiver’s on there, an interesting project with a series of mods, and while I didn’t try it, not being a huge fan of vetiver as the main event, my understanding is that it’s been a huge hit with vetiver freaks and … well, it’s now sold out, isn’t it?

In Manoumalia, and I’m going to crib from LuckyScent’s blurb here, “Sandrine Videault spent time on the tiny South Pacific island of Wallis immersed in its scents: the exotic fragrea flower used for necklaces and bracelets, the sandalwood powder used to dye hair, and the aromas of tiare, vetiver, and ylang ylang that permeate the island’s evenings.”  The list of notes — fragrea, vetiver, tiare, ylang ylang, amber, sandalwood – tell the same story and give a sense of the exoticism the perfumer was striving for.   In The Guide, Luca Turin gives it four stars and a generous half-page review, waxing enthusiastic about the perfumer’s ability to create an impression of the flowers by creative composition, as Roudnitska did with lily of the valley in Diorissimo.  As far as I know, this glowing reception of Manoumalia is duplicated on blogs everywhere; I may have missed it, but I can’t recall seeing a single review of it that was less than positive.

Which is why I find myself sitting here, staring thoughtfully at the screen as I type this, wondering how much longer I can put off getting to my point.  I loathe Manoumalia.  It combines the smothering powderiness of Lorenzo Villoresi Teint de Neige with the nausea-inducing aquamelon of Annick Goutal Un Matin d’Orage, with a drydown that manages to remind me simultaneously of drain cleaner, rubber bands, and ashtray.  To call it a “scrubber” doesn’t do my feelings justice.  Now I remember why I can’t find my sample from the last time I tried it –surely I buried it in the graveyard under a full moon, wrapped in a sealed Ziploc bag, after driving a stake through its heart and shooting it with a silver bullet.  Just in case.

I would rather wear Teint de Neige, Angel, Pink Sugar and Borneo than Manoumalia.  Hell, I’d rather wear all of them at the same time. While stuffed into the trunk of a Mini Cooper on a hot day in July.  What are you people smelling?  Are you insane?

No.  No, you are not insane.  Forgive me … I was overcome for a moment.  It’s not a skin issue – I feel the same way about Manoumalia in the air and on paper.  The tissue I sprayed it on had to be removed from the house and placed outside in the trash.   It’s a grim reaper of a smell to me, but I can’t help but be fascinated by it, because I really, truly believe that I am smelling what you are smelling.  It’s just that, like some people never acquire a taste for pickles, or mid-century Danish modern furniture, I don’t think I’m going to acquire a taste for fragrea, if this is what it smells like.  Although I was under the vague impression that fragrea smelled rather like gardenia, and I love gardenia.

I hesitate to write things like this, because I know that somewhere out there I’ve just hurt feelings, and I wish I hadn’t.  First off, who cares what I think?  Second, I’m in a tiny minority on this one.  But I forged ahead because it’s such an interesting scent.  It’s not a barn-door-size target like the deliberately disgusting Secretions Magnifiques – I have no trouble whatsoever believing that the world is full of people who find Manoumalia magnificent.  I sniff at the tissue until I begin to go queasy, which happens in fifteen or twenty minutes, and wonder why I feel this way.  I can think of a handful of scents that might – literally – induce vomiting in large enough doses on me, including Matin d’Orage, SM, Delrae Emotionelle, and the Hermes that frightened me so much I’ve a mental block – Mousson.  (Hmm … are you sensing a trend?)

So, I turn the floor over to you.  Do you find Manoumalia powdery?  Since people were bringing it up in relation to (I think) Amaranthine and Nuit de Tubereuse, which characteristics of those scents does it share, to you?  Do you find it dirty?  Sultry?  On paper I can smell the sandalwood eventually, that bit’s nice.  But not nice enough.  Do you think it smells strange, or familiar in a tuberose-y way?  What fragrances have you buried in the graveyard with a stake through the heart, hoping they’ll never rise to plague you again?

fragrea image: davesgarden.com

my Manoumalia sample: private source

March

It’s our last day in London, and we go home tomorrow, and I am sad and happy. At the end of every trip is the time when it is almost over and you think of all the things you have seen and done, but you also yearn for home. For me, it is right at the two-week mark when I’m just done, time to wrap it up and find a plane to take me back to my kids, my dogs, my cats, my family, my comfy bed.

Apologies in advance for typos and grammar corrections I should make, but we are about to head out for the touristy part of our London visit today, so this has to be done in a hurry since I was so tired last night, I couldn’t type a sentence.

I’m not sure where I left off – I think where I was weary of the group aspect of group travel.  On Friday in Grasse, we were invited to Molinard, and it was amazing.  They were the most gracious hosts I think I’ve ever experienced. They took us through their operation, let us shop, took us to the special room they set up with 50 essences at each table and let us make perfume.  We didn’t get the essences that are necessary for making the perfumes we like, such as civet, castoreum, labdanum — well, you know.  So I did the best I could and made a perfume with heliotrope, jasmine, gardenia mostly.  After we finished making zee perfume, we saw another room across the way they use for perfume-making courses.  That room.  Oh, yes, it was full of the stuff I really needed in my perfume, and we couldn’t stay in there, unfortunately, or I would have just moved my suitcase in and camped out on the floor.

After an incredible lunch, we got the factory tour of Fragonard as well.  Did I know how good some of these Fragonards were? there’s a Men’s fragrance called F that’s made for men but belongs on women too.  More about that next week.

Saturday we  arrived in London late, with enough time to run to Liberty and buy scarves and perfumes and other stuff.  I don’t know why this happens every time I’m in Liberty, but they have a beautiful scarf department, and there are always about 2-4 scarves that cry for me as I walk by. This year I gave in and gave two of them new homes..  I totally neglected to finalize plans with Lee for Sunday because we just weren’t sure what we were doing exactly and how tired we were, which on a scale of 1-10, my exhaustion is hitting a 9 right now, so I missed seeing him because he just had the one day.  Missed Sylvia and Nicola too because we’ve had very spotty internet, and I didn’t get their e-mail until late last night. Okay, my profuse apologies. I will plan better next time. And there will be a next time!

I love London. I hate the crowds at Harrod’s, and it is such a distasteful task to plunge into that mess to try and find the sales, and it just makes me cranky. That’s how we wound up spending all of Sunday, though we finally finished just in time to get to Fortnum & Mason to do tea, which is the one thing we promised to do almost every day – have formal’ish tea.  So far, we’ve done it!  Couple of things we found that we had no idea were coming out. Jo Malone has four new ones – Iris & White Musk, Amber & Patchouli, Oud & Bergamot and Rose Water & Vanilla. They are Cologne Intense – not sure what that means exactly, I guess a step up from cologne.  They are nice, very Jo Malone’ish. More on those next week.

Monday we met up with Diane from London (she comments on here) for tea at the Berkeley.  The is the pret-a-porter tea, and it is tied to the latest season in fashion. We ate cookies shaped like Chanel shoes.  We ate a Anya Hindmarch handbag. It is really adorable, posh and lovely. If you ever pick one tea to do in London, do this one. It’s pricey, but I think so worth it.

We were supposed to just go to Harvey Nichols and then spend the afternoon after tea at the Victoria & Albert Museum, but instead we elected to go back to Harvey Nichols – a department store you can easily spend a day in, without the frenetic Harrod’s thing.  Another scarf had cried for me there as I walked by, a gorgeous Alexander McQueen. Yes, yes, I gave it a home!

And we are at today, the tourist part of our stay. The London Tower this morning, then the rest of the day for the Victoria & Albert Musuem, which has a Grace Kelly special exhibit. And tomorrow it is an early flight home. Thanks for letting me share my trip with you.  Oh, yes, as a thank you, I will do a draw for a couple of sample sets of those four new Jo Malones.  Just drop a comment to be entered.

Patty

Hey, everyone.  I think I’ve caught up on responding to comments and questions therein, particularly on the attars.  Also here’s a tip my friends already know: if you don’t get a response to a question, just bug me again in the comments, they feed into my email inbox.  I have a terrible habit of putting off a response because I want to look some detail up for my answer, and then I don’t answer at all.  Yes, that’s bad, and please don’t take it personally.  Okay, on to the post. — March.

We’re doing something fun and different today!  Tauer Perfumes and LuckyScent are giving away two bottles of Andy Tauer’s new scent, Carillon pour un ange, right here on the Posse.  So leave a comment below (ONE COMMENT per person, please, I’ll delete others.) and we’ll choose two lucky winners via random.org and I’ll announce them Wednesday. LuckyScent will be shipping the bottles directly to the winners.  UPDATE:  WINNERS HAVE BEEN SELECTED AND DRAWING IS CLOSED.

In conjunction with this, and I’ll get to the fragrance review in a minute, Andy’s inviting you all and anyone else who wants to participate in an e-book charity project, link here with details. The topic is: “A MOMENT WITH LILY OF THE VALLEY.   Anything goes: You write a poem, draw us a picture, or write us a story.”  All you LOTV fans, here’s your chance to shine!

You can either email it to them or mail it to them (instructions below and at the bottom of the link).   They’ll publish a selection of the submissions in an e-book, with the proceeds donated to charities chosen by a vote on his blog.  Direct quote from Andy: “I see an environmental, a human development and a charity devoted to push forward peace as the selection for the vote.”  Also, today is coincidentally the fifth anniverary of Andy’s blog, if you want to drop by and say hi and check out the new site design he’s just unveiled.

Important note for eBook: “your submission, whether via email or by mail, must be original and must not contain any copyrighted material.  Please do not copy any content from other sources such as pictures from websites. You must grant us the rights to publish and confirm the originality of your work. You do so by sending these sentences together with your work:

I confirm that I have full copyright on my contribution. It is my original work and not copyright protected anywhere. I agree to pass on my copyrights on the contribution to Tauer and Luckyscent for later publication of my contribution in print, ebook, or both. Tauer and Luckyscent may publish my NAME and my WEBSITE together with my contribution in print, ebook or both and for communicating on my contribution. Tauer and Luckyscent may use my e-mail and personal information to contact me about my contribution and its publication.”

Include YOUR NAME for publication and YOUR WEBSITE for publication (if applicable.)  Send by e-mail to LOV@tauerperfumes dot com or by regular mail to : TAUER GmbH, Re: LOV, Limmattalstrasse 63, 8049 Zurich, Switzerland.

* * *

Alrighty, then.  On to the perfume:  LuckyScent quotes Andy as describing Carillon pour un ange as “a green choir of flowers.”  Notes listed are rose, ylang, lilac, lily of the valley, jasmine, leather, ambergris, moss, woods.  Andy also says on Lucky: “smelling lily of the valley is always a joy for me. I love the idea that you cannot buy a natural concentrate of lily of the valley, that the flowers resist to any large scale concentration of their fragrant soul.”

I, on the other hand, as some of you already know, am not the Queen o’ Muguet.  I am the person to whom a friend offered some vintage Diorissimo recently – a generous decant.  For free.   And I tried it one more time and said … no, thanks.  Because it’s wasted on me.  It should go to someone who loves it, yes?  Someone who will appreciate it.   Part of my particular problem is that I’m scarred by the ubiquity (at least in the past, before laundry-musk took over the world) of lily-of-the-valley-scented household items, bath soaps and candles and linen sprays and what have you – a green-sour-soapy miasma I associate more with the dreaded Aisle of Glade in our Safeway than with the actual, dollhouse-scaled flower.  I think many of us can point to the same issue with rose and hyacinth.  If you’re traumatized by enough “spring bouquet” bathroom sprays scents, those notes will haunt you forever.

But Carillon doesn’t go anywhere near the Aisle of Glade.  The top notes on my skin, or a squirt of the scent in the air, yields his choir of flowers – a spring green and a hazy purple that I’d have guessed was galbanum, muguet, hyacinth and something bright and grassy but not rooty at all.  For those lucky few who tried it, I detect (and Andy confirmed) a faint echo of Hyacinth and the Mechanic, his experimental mod.  There’s something sweet and earnest and genuine about it.  I close my eyes and it’s as if I’m holding a bouquet of flowers, freshly picked, with bits of crushed grass in there, pressed against palm of my hand.

Then there’s the base.   Shall we talk about the base?  Andy told me the base is “rich in ambergris, then there is a bit of vetiverol (woody, vetiver like note without the dirty  earthiness), some oakmoss fitting with EU regulators, a hint of a sandalwood note to fix things, and a fine styrax line that again fixes things, adds a hint of leather, sets an accent…“   It’s not the civetty skank of Diorissimo, but it is mossy for sure, lightly woody and resiny, balancing an intense liquid-ambery sweetness that I’m assuming is the result of a honking dose of  ambergris.  It is also (sillage monster alert) intensely powerful.  I set my smallish, capped spray sample down on the kitchen counter at one point, came back later, and realized I could smell it from several feet away.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  I don’t find Tauer scents to be timid, tenuous things in general; even by those standards it’s strong stuff.  A light spritz is just right, and I wouldn’t want to overspray.

I turned Andy’s question on himself: do you have any thoughts or associations about lily of the valley that you’d like to share with us?

His answer: “When you say lily of the valley to me, I can see a green natural scent forming in my head. It is there, in me, imprinted in my scent memory after sniffing on thousands of little white bells. I simply cannot pass by a lily of the valley without bending and sniffing. The scent is so much more and larger than the tiny little flower would make you think. Contrary to jasmine or orange blossom, where little flowers surprise by their powerful fragrance that sends you into fecal territory, there is a purity going with it lily of the valley. It is a clean scent, contrasting to the rich forest soil where it blooms: In the climate of my home village it blooms in May. There where it thrives in May, the soil is damp, covered with moss and soaked with the fragrance of fungus breaking down the beech leaves of last year, the vibrant incense and ambra of fir brushwood in the spring sun. For me, lily of the valley is spring, and spring’s explosion of fragrances and colors after winter’s suffocating icy grip.

Lily of the valley is my mother, wearing Diorissimo.  Lily of the valley is my partner (the W.-factor on my blog), testing my fragrances since years, and passionately discovering lily of the valley over and over again.”

So there you have it.  Andy says he’s “clueless” regarding his creations, but reading his email, I think I’ve sorted it out.  Carillon pour un ange is a handwritten mash note, a valentine delivered in July, when you’re not expecting it, when the heat makes everything a bit interesting.  Not that there’s any wrong season for love.

my sample: courtesy of LuckyScent

March