by Nava

I think everybody knows what a sucker I am for Donna Karan Cashmere Mist, so of course I’m going to try every flanker of the scent, including the newest one, Liquid Nude. Big surprise; I love it. I’ve never been a fan of wearing Cashmere Mist in warm weather, even though it’s supposed to evoke the feeling of a “second skin”. Liquid Nude to me, is the perfect combination of orange blossom, with the tenacity of the original Cashmere Mist base, so it’s lighter and slightly fresher, but still manages to hang around without suffocating. It also passes the “aunt” test because the sample I’ve been wearing all week hasn’t raised any hackles or caused any headaches. It dries down with the same warm muskiness of the original, but the freshness of the orange blossom stays strong throughout. Dare I say, this might be the perfect orange blossom scent, since the warmer notes act as an anchor, preventing it from disappearing. I’ve always had that problem with orange blossom, but here, it hangs around and then some.

My discovery of Liquid Nude got me thinking about the concept of “nude” scents. That got me nostalgic for Bonne Bell Skin Musk and Alyssa Ashley Musk; also Body Time’s China Rain and that scent Dawn Spencer-Hurwitz did that was supposed to be an anti-perfume. March, help me out here, I know you know which one I’m talking about. Then Robin at Now Smell This posted yesterday about the latest Juliette Has a Gun fragrance, Not a Perfume, which is another one of those pure Ambrox scents (like Escentric Molecule 02), which I cannot smell. So, I’m wondering, why wear nude when you want to smell, well, nude?

For me, “nude” always meant musk. I don’t think of musk the same way other fragrance aficionados do. Unless we’re talking about the old barnyard monster, Muscs Koublai Khan, my favourite interpretation is more of a white musk that’s slightly floral, but that I must be able to smell. I cannot smell Narciso Rodriguez Musc for Her or any other type of Egyptian musk, but a clean smelling, slightly floral musk is something I can really get into now and again. I had a 1/4 oz. bottle of that DSH oil, but I cannot seem to locate it. Currently, I have one other “nude” in my collection, my bottle of Memoire Liquide Nudité Absolue, which I’m showing a lot of love to right now – it’s nude with a woody, slightly patchouli-tinged base that’s been mixing well with my Liquid Nude samples.

I was a bad girl last Saturday when I ventured over to the Murale store here in Toronto looking for June Jacobs sunblock (yes, they have June Jacobs!), which they did not carry, and instead walked out with a bottle of Nudité Intense, which I was even more shocked to find. This one is very close to the China Rain type floral musk that I love, and for $48.00, I thought, hey – practically free, right? These types of scents smell so right to me, that I just can’t get enough of them. Last year, my transitional fave was a spicy floral. This year, it’s clean musk. I’m waiting for just a bit more of a chill in the air before I break out my vial of Bruno Acampora Musk, which is almost as dirty as MKK, but not nearly as temperamental. Gee, now that I see it all on paper, I guess I am pretty well-stocked in the musk department.

It must be the onset of autumn, and spending time with my family during the Jewish holidays that has me nostalgic for these types of scents. After last week’s matzo ball and brisket extravaganza, I was once again feeling very blessed to be here in my favourite city, with my wonderfully nutty family, plus my little freelance writing business that’s chugging along with a few belches of smoke now and again. Life in my little corner of the world is pretty not bad. Oh, and I did manage to finagle payment out of my pain-in-the-rear-end client. Crisis averted; until next time.

For all of you who giggled and guffawed through the tale of my cousin Jessica’s colonoscopy two weeks ago, her results were clean as a whistle.

Now for some sharing: Tell me your favourite “clean” musky type scents.

Disclosure: Samples of Donna Karan Cashmere Mist Liquid Nude were obtained at The Bay. Memoire Liquide Nudité Absolue and Nudité Intense are from my personal collection.

Using a random number generator to pick the comment number to win the Andy Tauer bottle, the winner is – Nancy C! Click on the Contact Us over on the left, send me your address, and tell me which flavor of bottle you would like, and I’ll forward that on to Andy to send to you.  Thanks to everyone for playing.

After a few days on a boat at Lake Powell to close out the summer, I think I’m finally ready to dive my nose back into perfume.  It occurs to me that every summer, the same thing happens for me, and I think for not just a few of you, we take a vacation from our passions, which is a good thing, they always need a rest to keep them fresh.  When the nights turn cool, it occurs to me that sniffing new perfumes is a good thing.

Does that mean I’ve done that? Um, no.  But I have targeted a couple of things that I would like to sit down and sniff, but you guys get to pick it.  I’ve got two Dorins we grabbed at Roja Dove in London in July – Fullah and Taif Rose.  I’m sorta remembering the Fullah as a little skanky.  I’ve also got three Made in Italy scents that were exclusive at Harvey Nick’s in London. I seem to vaguely recall that one or two of them are pretty skanky as well, and were surprisingly well made for what appeared – by name and presentation – to be an uninspired theme, names of cities in Italy.  Or I’ve got samples from Luckyscent of the new Mona di Orio scents, the leather and a couple of more things.

So you can vote in comments about what you most would like to have a review description of, and whatever gets the most votes, I’ll do next Tuesday. If something else is really getting to you that you’d like me to try and hunt down and sniff for you, let me know that in comments too! Well, except Boxeuse, which I’m as impatiently waiting for like y’all!

Patty

Awhile ago I blogged about how much I like Gucci Envy for Men, which features a lot of ginger, an unexpected (and for me, quite welcome) note in a scent.   Musette, in one of our chatty email exchanges recently, asked me what I actually wear when I’m not test-driving something new.  I admitted that I probably wear Gucci Rush more than is decent.  I still can’t find the line in The Guide where Luca Turin describes a scent as (paraphrasing here) “making vulgarity seem like a richly-deserved vacation from good taste,” but I could certainly apply that to Rush, a milky-sweet thing that is both art and trash, like those big, shiny Jeff Koons balloon dogs.  Gucci Flora was okay, and while I ragged in passing on Gucci Guilty on Monday, it’s … perfectly fine.  It’s a very current, office-friendly floral-amber that I wouldn’t object to putting on my body, in theory.  But as I don’t work in an office, and it’s a little too floral to be a wallpaper scent for me, I’d rather wear something else.  Leading me, in roundabout fashion, to the top of today’s review: Gucci Envy.

Envy came out in 1997, when I had a toddler, a baby, and a more-than-full-time corporate job that involved travel.  Whatever marketing message they were sending out with Envy, I missed it. I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve walked by a bottle of Envy without once picking it (or any of its spawn) up for a sniff.  I’d be able to buy one of those MDCIs and an Amouage, or maybe I’d dial up the Roja Dove boutique instead and see if they have any of that discontinued Les Larmes Sacrees de Thebes under the counter… anyway, how it is I’ve gotten to this point in my life and in perfumery without a hint of Envy I have no idea, but there you have it.  It’s pretty hard to dig up a list of notes, here’s one cobbled together from Osmoz that seems plausible: bergamot, freesia, peach, hyacinth, magnolia, lily of the valley, rose, jasmine, cedar, sandalwood, orris, musk.   The fragrance was done by Maurice Roucel.  I had no idea.  Maybe I’d have tried it sooner.

Envy is, if nothing else, an interesting study in how tastes have changed in mass-market perfumery.   It’s a green floral, and a big one – one of those goes-with-cigarettes scents like Estee Lauder Azuree the original, Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss, and Issey Miyake A Scent, although there’s no oakmoss finish to Envy.  The first five minutes are sweet and fruity, rather synthetically so, like the hairspray top notes of the Rush bottle next door crept in.  It feels a bit dated in a fun way, as if I’d oversprayed Chanel Cristalle and suddenly time-tripped back to 1984 for a pineapple daiquiri and a cigarette on the outside patio of the local watering hole.   Then the top fades and it’s both green/metallic (hyacinth and the LOTV) and watery – I get a lot of magnolia – and as it drifts toward the drydown it becomes progressively more musky/woody.  The florals aren’t identifiable individually to me beyond the touch of rose.  Envy’s got the velvety curves of muguet rather than the sharpness of galbanum, and it’s never as dry or sharp (or grown-up) as, say, Azuree, but it’s quite pretty.  It seems far more sophisticated than most of the new mass-market scents I run into.

People are still making green florals – there’s the Jasmine White Moss and A Scent right there on my list – but those seem more exclusive, or niche-ier, in terms of demographic.  What’s Gucci making now to lure the huddled masses?  Flora and Guilty, two fragrances that fit in seamlessly, scent-wise, with the newer offerings on the shelf at Macy’s and Sephora.  The idea of releasing a scent that smells like Envy to the same market (18 to 30 year olds?) it was aimed at fifteen years ago seems absurd to me.   It must have been the Obsession (or the Poison) of its day, right?  For the party-going 20-somethings? These days it’s Gwen Stefani and Coach, cupcakes and light musk, nothing that’s going to pull a groin muscle.

I’ve enjoy my continuing journey through the powerhouse scents of the 1980s and 1990s, most of which I missed, not really being into perfume at the time.  There’s always another surprise out there, no matter how assiduously I sniff.   Envy is stirring my faint memories of green scents with LOTV … does anyone out there remember Sung?  How about Fidji?  Wow, that’s much older, from the 60′s.  I knew a lot of women wearing it in the 80′s.   Who wore Envy back in the day, raise your hand?  How did you feel about it?  How do you feel about it now?

March

It’s right below this one.  It was invisible to some people on Friday — The Must-Have.  I think Patty’s away — if you CAN’T see what he’s written, leave a comment here and I’ll fiddle with it some more.  I might have to delete the image if there’s a problem (insert sadface here.)

I’ll be here tomorrow with a gen-u-wine perfume review!

(I’m reprinting this for Lee (Patty is) since it didn’t show up for many of you on Friday)  – And March just got on here and cleared formatting because it still isn’t showing, wah wah

and guess what?  It STILL isn’t showing – ain’t that weird?  xo &gt

By Lee

On Wednesday, the Lovely Lady March led us merrily into the world of simulacra – the perfumes you’d list as must-sniffs in terms of their representations of the real. And what great work you folks did in suggestions, recommendations and thoughts.

I had this post planned before I knew what March would be writing. Honest. It’s just synchronicity, innit.

I’m 42 next week. And a bell is ringing on my fragrance array, as loudly as the one saying ‘you’re in middle-age, dude’. These markers in life make me respond in what some might say are extreme ways.

A protestant work ethic minimalist at heart (if not in practice), the perfumes in my collection/hoard have long been bothering me. Not all of them, but the majority. You see, I just don’t wear them. A collection is just not necessarily a set of things you wear I guess – it’s more a personal choice of highlights from the plethora of perfumes in existence or dead, as well as a map of the perfume landcape that you’ve shaped for yourself in some way. But… I’m tired of all that land. I love how the hills and valleys and glades look, but perhaps all I need is a small plot to call my own, that suits me best. A picket fence and a neat little house. One or two hills and a shady vale. Perhaps a dark forbidding wood. But not much more. Under a hundred acres, not a continent. I can always visit that continent if I want, but I don’t have to call it mine.

I’m ruthless with clothes. There are those items I keep because I wear them and they’re vintage and wonderful. And there are those more transient garments that wear out from overwear (tautological? Me?), or are just no longer right. They go – the former to the bin or the garden store (dusters, rags, paint drip collectors); the latter to charidee. And I stop wearing some items altogether – denim jeans for example. I’d love to, but I’m farcical in young and funky, and depressed in old and fogey.

The same with perfume. I have samples for those that I need to sniff, but now, if I don’t wear em, they’re gone. Last year I reduced from 120ish to 60ish. This year, I’m going for thirty or under. So, in the Lee-is-brutal rules of perfume ownership, I’m only keeping those that I know I wear regularly, or I know I might not now, but I will again soon. What follows is my ‘you-are-so-totally-owned’ list. It’s a long way from completist and you might think ‘hey, he needs X or Y to sit alongside those’ . By all means tell me if you think the need is there, and I might respond. I’m just under 30 – I have room for one more. Maybe.

Christian Dior

Dior Homme – only 10mls left. I won’t rebuy it. I overwore it and like skinny trousers, it doesn’t really fit now.

Bois d’Argent – a forever love. If nothing else works, I can rely on a trip to the silvery woods (where money grows on trees) to make me smile.

Eau Sauvage – forever crisp white shirt suitable.

Yves Saint Laurent

M7 Fresh – another one that’s running low, and won’t be replaced. But I have affection for it, simply because it’s my man’s favourite.

Rive Gauche pour Homme – the best fougere for me. Barbershop soap and salt. I’m not sure it actually is salty, but it works that way.

Cartier

Eau de Cartier – high pitched violets and crispness. A summer essential.

Declaration – spicy translucence.

Bulgari

Bulgari pour Homme – another summer no-brainer. Nothing special, for those nothing special happening days. I’m surprised the bottle isn’t nearly empty.

Editions de Parfum

Geranium pour Monsieur – it makes me want to put creases in my shorts, tuck my shirt in neatly, and buy boat shoes. And I hate boat shoes.

Nicolai

Balle de Match

Eau d’Ete

Eau Exotique – all three are Nicolai’s cheap and cheerful summer smells, rather than the Guerlainesque richness she’s more rightly known for. You can happily never OD in spraying the final of the three, but a little of the first two goes a long way. Grapefruit richness and fresh musk can easily be overdone. But I only have 30 ml bottles of both – great for my work bag on hot days.

Hermes

Terre d’Hermes – in parfum, to replace my empty edt bottle. A necessity for me.

Ambre Narguile – when I’m in a scarfed up, brr it’s cold and I need stodge, I’ll probably go for the Nazgul before I go for cake.

Poivre Samarkande – anyone who doesn’t get this, and then get it, is crazy. Perfection in pepper.

Different Company

Sel de Vetiver – my favourite summer fragrance.

Parfumerie Generale

Coze – the best of outdoors in a bottle.

Divine

L’homme de Coeur – spring refinement.

Guerlain

Jicky – in parfum de toilette. I did have it in parfum, and will again. Of all the great classics, it’s this I’m most loyal to.

Vetiver – see Eau Sauvage.

Eau de Guerlain – for when you need the sun to shine.

L’Artisan Parfumeur

Timbuktu – my second favourite incense, plus extra oddity.

Le Labo

Poivre 23 – a phenomenal oriental.

Patchouli 24 – I guess Dr Jekyll is renting lab space in the basement of my neat little house. I’m glad of it.

Serge Lutens

Encens et Lavande – my favourite incense. My most meditative scent.

Santal de Mysore – rich sweet spicy.

Arabie – and again, but different enough to justify both. One is more main course than dessert, but they share plenty of flavours. They are winter favourites.

Muscs Koublai Khan – the only ‘real’ musk I wear.

Borneo 1834 – grey suit., white shirt, leather briefcase. Glasses. Serious face. Adds mystery to the mundane. Quixotic to the quotidian. Dash to the drear. Etc.

And there’s one more I didn’t mention. A 30ml bottle of Mitsouko parfum. It’s preformulation, oakmossy wonderfulness but I NEVER wear it. Therefore, it breaks my rules. Somehow it feels like I have to keep it. But I’d swap it in an instant for some Jicky parfum.

So, if you had to reduce your collection to just 30 (and don’t worry folks, I’m only in charge of crazy old me, and not the rest of the world…), what would definitely be in, based on MY RULES? And if you have under 30 in your collection, what would you like to add in to round up that there number?

March

(I’m reprinting this for Lee (Patty is) since it didn’t show up for many of you on Friday)  – And March just got on here and cleared formatting because it still isn’t showing, wah wah

By Lee

On Wednesday, the Lovely Lady March led us merrily into the world of simulacra – the perfumes you’d list as must-sniffs in terms of their representations of the real. And what great work you folks did in suggestions, recommendations and thoughts.

I had this post planned before I knew what March would be writing. Honest. It’s just synchronicity, innit.

I’m 42 next week. And a bell is ringing on my fragrance array, as loudly as the one saying ‘you’re in middle-age, dude’. These markers in life make me respond in what some might say are extreme ways.

A protestant work ethic minimalist at heart (if not in practice), the perfumes in my collection/hoard have long been bothering me. Not all of them, but the majority. You see, I just don’t wear them. A collection is just not necessarily a set of things you wear I guess – it’s more a personal choice of highlights from the plethora of perfumes in existence or dead, as well as a map of the perfume landcape that you’ve shaped for yourself in some way. But… I’m tired of all that land. I love how the hills and valleys and glades look, but perhaps all I need is a small plot to call my own, that suits me best. A picket fence and a neat little house. One or two hills and a shady vale. Perhaps a dark forbidding wood. But not much more. Under a hundred acres, not a continent. I can always visit that continent if I want, but I don’t have to call it mine.

I’m ruthless with clothes. There are those items I keep because I wear them and they’re vintage and wonderful. And there are those more transient garments that wear out from overwear (tautological? Me?), or are just no longer right. They go – the former to the bin or the garden store (dusters, rags, paint drip collectors); the latter to charidee. And I stop wearing some items altogether – denim jeans for example. I’d love to, but I’m farcical in young and funky, and depressed in old and fogey.

The same with perfume. I have samples for those that I need to sniff, but now, if I don’t wear em, they’re gone. Last year I reduced from 120ish to 60ish. This year, I’m going for thirty or under. So, in the Lee-is-brutal rules of perfume ownership, I’m only keeping those that I know I wear regularly, or I know I might not now, but I will again soon. What follows is my ‘you-are-so-totally-owned’ list. It’s a long way from completist and you might think ‘hey, he needs X or Y to sit alongside those’ . By all means tell me if you think the need is there, and I might respond. I’m just under 30 – I have room for one more. Maybe.

Christian Dior

Dior Homme – only 10mls left. I won’t rebuy it. I overwore it and like skinny trousers, it doesn’t really fit now.

Bois d’Argent – a forever love. If nothing else works, I can rely on a trip to the silvery woods (where money grows on trees) to make me smile.

Eau Sauvage – forever crisp white shirt suitable.

Yves Saint Laurent

M7 Fresh – another one that’s running low, and won’t be replaced. But I have affection for it, simply because it’s my man’s favourite.

Rive Gauche pour Homme – the best fougere for me. Barbershop soap and salt. I’m not sure it actually is salty, but it works that way.

Cartier

Eau de Cartier – high pitched violets and crispness. A summer essential.

Declaration – spicy translucence.

Bulgari

Bulgari pour Homme – another summer no-brainer. Nothing special, for those nothing special happening days. I’m surprised the bottle isn’t nearly empty.

Editions de Parfum

Geranium pour Monsieur – it makes me want to put creases in my shorts, tuck my shirt in neatly, and buy boat shoes. And I hate boat shoes.

Nicolai

Balle de Match

Eau d’Ete

Eau Exotique – all three are Nicolai’s cheap and cheerful summer smells, rather than the Guerlainesque richness she’s more rightly known for. You can happily never OD in spraying the final of the three, but a little of the first two goes a long way. Grapefruit richness and fresh musk can easily be overdone. But I only have 30 ml bottles of both – great for my work bag on hot days.

Hermes

Terre d’Hermes – in parfum, to replace my empty edt bottle. A necessity for me.

Ambre Narguile – when I’m in a scarfed up, brr it’s cold and I need stodge, I’ll probably go for the Nazgul before I go for cake.

Poivre Samarkande – anyone who doesn’t get this, and then get it, is crazy. Perfection in pepper.

Different Company

Sel de Vetiver – my favourite summer fragrance.

Parfumerie Generale

Coze – the best of outdoors in a bottle.

Divine

L’homme de Coeur – spring refinement.

Guerlain

Jicky – in parfum de toilette. I did have it in parfum, and will again. Of all the great classics, it’s this I’m most loyal to.

Vetiver – see Eau Sauvage.

Eau de Guerlain – for when you need the sun to shine.

L’Artisan Parfumeur

Timbuktu – my second favourite incense, plus extra oddity.

Le Labo

Poivre 23 – a phenomenal oriental.

Patchouli 24 – I guess Dr Jekyll is renting lab space in the basement of my neat little house. I’m glad of it.

Serge Lutens

Encens et Lavande – my favourite incense. My most meditative scent.

Santal de Mysore – rich sweet spicy.

Arabie – and again, but different enough to justify both. One is more main course than dessert, but they share plenty of flavours. They are winter favourites.

Muscs Koublai Khan – the only ‘real’ musk I wear.

Borneo 1834 – grey suit., white shirt, leather briefcase. Glasses. Serious face. Adds mystery to the mundane. Quixotic to the quotidian. Dash to the drear. Etc.

And there’s one more I didn’t mention. A 30ml bottle of Mitsouko parfum. It’s preformulation, oakmossy wonderfulness but I NEVER wear it. Therefore, it breaks my rules. Somehow it feels like I have to keep it. But I’d swap it in an instant for some Jicky parfum.

So, if you had to reduce your collection to just 30 (and don’t worry folks, I’m only in charge of crazy old me, and not the rest of the world…), what would definitely be in, based on MY RULES? And if you have under 30 in your collection, what would you like to add in to round up that there number?

Lee