Tuberose Cubed: Neela Vermeire Eshal and Rogue Champs Lunaires (plus two)

So I finally got off my butt and went to ScentBar.

You would think that this was as if I was going to Wyoming instead of a mile or so down Beverly Boulevard. Wyoming, on foot. In the snow. But I guess I am one of those people that Covid just changed the habits of. During Covid obviously all retail was closed and the almost eerie lack of traffic in Los Angeles (and me “needing” to drive to charge the car’s battery) led to some epic “covid cruises” that took me far and wide. With the return to “normalcy” (and traffic) the cruises sort of stopped, but the retail portion of the program really didn’t start up again. Stores that I used to haunt like the ghost of shoppers past were no longer on the radar and I looked at a trip to the mall with the fond expectation I usually reserve for the dentist. Surrender to Chance and eBay became the orders of the day.

Then Neela Vermeire did a tuberose.

Now, the Posse is no stranger to her creations. Portia has long been on the forefront of reviewing her wares and I am afraid that in the interest of repeating I haven’t reviewed them myself. Because writing “what Portia said” isn’t really a review. But tuberose. And someone said something about New York.

Now I love Tuberose. I don’t wear it, much, but I love it. I think I love it for the reason that the people that hate it hate it. It can be BIG. All-enveloping. Overpowering. In-your-face. None of which, of course, shy, self-effacing little me is. (and if you have a different opinion on this, I’d keep it to myself, bub.) So of course I braved the wilds of the Fairfax district to try it, and while I was there was recommended Champs Lunaires by Rogue. For comparison I pulled out my bottle of Fracas, perhaps the reference tuberose scent. The scent that launched 1000 perfume bans, and Uncle Serge’s Tubereuse Criminelle, his post-modern take on the flower. Fracas is all Barbara Stanwyck in furs: hot blooded under that cool exterior. Whether she’s going to kiss you or plug you you never know. Probably both. TC is the post-modern Fracas: Uma Thurman in “Kill Bill” to Barbara in “Double Indemnity.” The slightly bizarre opening of rubber and gasoline do kind of refer to some of the qualities of the tuberose, which is almost, but not quite, a karate-kick of white flower.

Champs Lunaires is almost shy in it’s initial opening. I got a blast (well that might be too strong a word) of fresh from the pool skin and citrus (must be the listed pomelo) before the tuberose kicks in. The blurb on Luckyscent reads that the perfumer was inspired by both Fracas and TC (and who wouldn’t be) but decided I think to dial it back. A wise choice. This one is a magic trick: a more “wearable” and “approachable” tuberose that still has the shades of Uma and Barbara lurking right around every corner. At $85 for 30ML I think this could easily become necessary.

Eshal starts so blamelessly innocent you could be forgiven in thinking (especially after the latter three) that it might not even be a tuberose. It starts off with mandarin and bitter orange, lime, and a zing of petitgrain that reminds me of Eau Sauvage. The tuberose starts to come in sly, on little cinnamon feet and a dry rustle of turmeric. The tuberose does come out, peeping out from the corners, lulling you into a false sense of security. Then you’re hooked. If  Fracas is “Double Indemnity” and TC is “Kill Bill” then Eshal is Joan Fontaine in “Born to be Bad”: a Hitchcock blonde innocent who’ll steal your heart and your stock portfolio and leave you reeling while she drives off, her Cadillac full of furs, off for fresh game. $385 for 60ML ain’t cheap, but neither was Chrisabel Caine..

Have you tried these? Does Tuberose scare you, or is it your jam? Discuss in the comments.

I asked for and received samples from ScentBar. The bottles of Fracas and TC are my own.

Photos: my iPhone, Pexels, Wikimedia Commons