First, winners from last week of the Caron L’Accord 119 – mary and cheesegan.  Click on the Contact Us over there on the left, give me your address and remind me what you’ve won, and I’ll get it mailed out to you!

The last half of this year has brought on some of the worst flibbertygibbet OCD I’ve had in a while.  I’ve gone from stained glass (which I used to do) to fused glass to burning out material to researching perfume-making again to making spangly caftans – my lastest fascination, sorta like those on the left.  Well, pretty much exactly like the Camilla Franks one on the left.  I fell in love with caftans in Morocco and brought back a few of them, one of them this gorgeous nighttime jade green spangly thing that’s pretty amazing.  I should have taken a picture.  So then I find a couple of Antik Batik caftan shirts, and it dawns on me that these are the easiest thing in the world to make unless you get fancy with them. Found a vintage pattern that’s almost exactly like the Antik Batik one, found places on line for sparklies and how to get them on the fabric permanently, and now I just need to find some material that I love.

I’m guessing there’s about 3,000 steps I’m missing. It’s been decades since I sewed, and I’ll be working with silks and more sheer fabrics for this, which can be more difficult than doing a nice cotton dress or tea towel. Oh, I’m kidding, I did more complicated stuff than that. But I’m feeling vaguely like I might wind up bedazzling my caftans.  But if the seamstresses out there – and I know there are some because our darling readers are incredibly talented at so many things – want to throw me a tip or two before I ruin expensie  material, beading, crystals, etc, I’d be grateful!  I do know how to sew, I swear, I’m just an impatient sewer.

Annick Goutal Mon Parfum Cheri, Par Camille.  I’ve got the EDP version, which isn’t being distributed in the U.S.  The non-blond goes over the differences in her post. I haven’t smelled the EDT, but now I want to.

The scent is patchouli, plum, iris, violet, heliotrope, and if you’re thinking you’ll be getting a darker Mandragore or Hadrien or one of the other Goutal scents, well.  no.  not at all. If you think more along the lines of Eau du Fier, you’ll be closer.  It is rooty smoky plum. Iris root is there all the way through, giving the scent its depth, embedding itself into the earth.  And, as Denyse says, it is purple.  Given the mainstream public’s tastes, it would surprise me if this were a big seller.

I’d be surprised if even the perfumista crowd loved it in droves.  It’s a highly individual perfume taste thing. I love it because it is different and unafraid and uncompromising.  It is Film Noir Woman interesting – when women wore tight sweaters with pointy bras and pencil skirts and aprons and pearls over it – but not of that time, just glancing backwards at the scents women wore that were interesting.

It won’t be for everyone, and if you don’t like the edp, it sounds like the edt might work.  I’m fully in support of it as an effort by a mainstream’s perfume line to go in the direction they want – following their own purple drumbeat.

Hey, let’s do a draw for 3 samples of this to 3 commenters – well, one sample apiece. And it’s my birthday!  And my birthday present to myself is two tattoos, which I’ll unveil next week or the week after if they are healing slowly.  So drop a comment to be entered in the drawing!  You can talk about whatever you want – how you’re coping with the holiday season so far or the cold (brr!  here after almost a week of off and on snow and frigid temps) or birthdays in general.

Patty

by Tom

Then off to Saks where I saw Guerlain Mayotte, which I hadn’t tried.  Apparenly this was called Mahora back in the day.  The Saks website reads “limited edition” in big red letters and admonishes that one can only order 6 in a 30 day period.  Which begs the question, who would need a big gulp of this every month?  Testing it I had the answer: anyone who would want to maintain it’s wholly wonderful, full throated ylang-ylangy ode to the islands.  I think some people would think of it as rather old-lady with its jasmine, vetiver, tuberose and sandalwood.  The opening makes me want to let loose my inner Dorothy Lamour.  The drydown calms down quite a lot, but I discreetly dabbed.  I might have to make a trip back and be a little less discreet; it may be my birthday present to myself.  $235 for 4.2 oz at Saks, where I dabbed.

By the Gang

I hope it’s Spring wherever you are, my dearests. To the north, there are daffodils struggling in the slushy snow.   Where I am, in the lower GI of Illinois, it’s Spring, alrighty, with temps swinging from 38 to 84 then down to the 50s with tornadoes.  Ah, Spring – the Bipolar Season(s)…

But Musette digresses, as usual.  It’s time for the Top 10 of Spring though I’m not feeling it right now, as I sit shivering in my flannels and fleece, praying that Glinda doesn’t have plans for me.  I’ve been craving Big White Flowers, Big Pink Flowers.  Big Flowers. Little white flowers.   Lots of love for Diorissimo. Nothing says spring quite like Roudnitska’s Easter bonnet of Perfection.   Little known fact about Diorissimo:  it is a great weight-loss aid.  It is impossible to eat a Mallomar whilst wearing Diorissimo.  I know!  I’ve tried, many times.  How can something so soft and simple be so sublimely elegant?  If you don’t know the vintage, don’t despair. The contemp’s not quite the same but it’s still beautiful, 55 years later.

This last month has been some really freaky weather – blasting, Santa Ana-type winds and the barometric pressure wielding a sledgehammer to my sinuses…I have been choking the life out of everybody with Fracas.  Vintage.  Contemporary. Shower gel.  Body lotion. Dusting powder (vintage, with the pink feather puff).   All at once.   Go ‘head.  Say sumpin’ I dare you …Fracas has a big sprayer and she’s not afraid to use it!

March says:  it’s the topsy-turvy weather of spring that’s both delightful and annoying, although I’m not complaining, since the midwest has been slammed by terrible weather recently.  Anyhow, from my regular stable of go-to scents, I’ve been drawn to two ends of the spectrum: the bitter-green-citrus Annick Goutals Eau de Ciel and Eau du Sud, both of which are designed for bike-riding and kite-flying on windy spring days, or perhaps a walk along the beach while it’s still too cold to swim.  They smell pretty great in summer, too.  On the other hand, I’m still wearing and loving my Majmua Attar, which I mix up with jojoba oil in small batches.  It’s such a foreign-place smell, it reminds me of our trip to Thailand.  I noticed recently that Tigerflag, where I got these attars, has closed down, but I think White Lotus has them. Any of you attar freaks, feel free to recommend another source.  I’ve heard that some of the cheap-cheap ones aren’t authentic, but don’t know that for sure.

Tom sez: Since spring has sprung I find myself reaching for some of the lighter fragrances in my stash- for day Commes des Garçons Series 1 Lily, a grassy Lily of the Valley that’s almost oversaturated with technicolor summeriness.  For evening I’ve been going back to an old favorite that people don’t mention much anymore L’Antimatiere by LezNez, which dances between clean and carnal and is as comforting as wearing your boyfriend’s cashmere sweater, after.

Patty says: Complete dittoes on Diorissimo and all Lily of the Valley scents, including the Van Cleef  Muguet Blanc that has a more frozen cold approach, which works so well while spring is flirting between winter and warm and I keep doing the OpentheWindow/ClosetheWindow daily shuffle, either too cold or too hot.  And my Daphne out in front of my house that everyone gets so tired of hearing about every year. The good news is, I’m getting  a Linden tree for my front yard, so I’ll add that to my springtime smell yammering.

Nava says: I’m obsessed with finding an air conditioner to fit the casement window of my apartment. That said, I’m forgoing spring this year and preparing for summer; even though as of yesterday, the heat is still pumping in this frickin’ building. In the meantime, I’m quite content with Peace Love and Juicy Couture, which features the lemon note I’m so into lately, along with some honeysuckle, linden and a bit of musk. When I reviewed it, I said it reminded me of Cristalle. That was in cold weather. Now that it’s warmer, the scent is standing on its own a bit more. Plus, I totally dig that bottle.  My other go-to (which I am running out of) is Givenchy’s Ange ou Demon Le Secret. How can you go wrong with cranberry, green tea, citrus and jasmine?

For more Top Ten lists, please visit Bois de Jasmin, Grain de Musc, Now Smell This, and Perfume-Smellin’ Things.

By March

Over Easter weekend we did that classic mid-Atlantic bump from the rainy mid-50s to the sunny mid-80s in a single day.  I was on the eastern shore of Maryland to stay with the country cousins, during which I ate more food than I have in the last three months – steamed spiced shrimp (with Old Bay seasoning, natch), fried chicken, grilled lamb, a baked ham, Brussels sprouts and asparagus, new potatoes, on and on and on.  And white rolls and sweet potato biscuits, of course.  If there’s a heaven, and I get there, the menu will look something like that.

So it seemed like time to test-drive the five new Jo Malone tea scents, about which I’ve read somewhat mixed reviews.  I went to Bloomingdales to try them – you know, now that it’s warmed up enough in D.C. to put away the wool sweaters – and they are … sold out already, Jo Malone apparently having caught the Limited Edition bug in a bad way.  They’ve still got the Assam/grapefruit, the mint, and the cucumber ones online; the lemon and sweet milk ones are already gone — or, more precisely, being scalped on eBay.  The lemon one sounded dreadful (pineapple and peach? bleargh) but I was looking forward to the others.  Twenty dollars says they’ll be reissued in a year or two, like her wildly popular Kohdo wood collection.  In the meantime, today I raise my porcelain teacup in a toast to the perfume I took to the shore with me, which is Annick Goutal Duel.

Remember Duel?   No, not the maple-syrup one, that’s Sables.  Duel’s the maté-tea one.  Lasts for 92 seconds?  That’s the big complaint – Duel is great, but unless you’re going to wear some constant-delivery system, maybe a bottle built into your sunhat, what’s the point?  Even the Goutal website refers to it as a “skin scent.”  Well, I don’t know if what’s changed is the formula or my nose, but recently my spritzes of Duel seem to last the entire day.  Notes are petitgrain, absinthe, maté tea, heather, iris, leather, musk, tobacco.

Wait, I have to paste this hilarious blather from Nordstrom in: “Duel is a fragrance designed for men who wish they could go back in time to fight in a duel to defend one’s honor and love. Duel is a fresh woody fragrance with a hint of leather musk and tobacco.” Who gets drunk and writes this stuff?  I’m going to fight to defend Duel’s honor myself by pointing out that it’s unisex (rather than “masculine”) and there’s nothing retro about it.

Like a lot of Goutals, Duel is a little sharp at the top – the rootiness of iris, some sour green citrus notes, and then there’s the maté tea, in this case a red-brown smell that registers between oolong and roiboos, a little grassy, with a hint of carrots.  The drydown is very smooth: a wisp of tobacco, and no perceptible leather.  In other words, despite that list of notes, this is really more of a summer-tea scent than anything else, closer to the Bulgari teas (but more complex) or maybe de Nicolai’s Fig-Tea (only much less sweet.)  It’s as refreshing as the big glass of unsweetened herbal-mint and black tea I had before my bike ride in the heat, before my nap and some more fried chicken.

Duel, like Sables, seems to vary pretty widely in its distribution in the U.S. – sometimes it’s there at places like Saks, sometimes not.  If you like tea scents, it’s well worth seeking out.  I’d love to hear from anyone who’s tried it recently whether I’m nuts about the lasting power being so much better now.

Sample source:  private samples from two different sources, both alleged to be of recent vintage, plus a travel bottle of uncertain age.

Finally, here’s some feedback on Tauer Zeta from Francesca, i.e., someone who’s smelled actual linden (and who won a sample on our draw):  “It’s very very true to the fragrance of real linden blossoms. And perhaps even to the smell of linden blossom honey. Now, I have to say, I’m not usually a big fan of linden or honey notes in fragrances, but this one is just so true. There’s quite a blast of citrus right at the beginning, but that goes away in moments. And I’m getting a bit of that Tauer, what is it, creosote? which really enhances the linden. It’s dried down into great subtlety…. As delicately as it dried down, it was still noticeable after three handwashings.  I used to collect lindenflowers from the park and dry them out, and then make tea with lindenflower honey, which is just—lindorama. Zeta is really the best linden scent I’ve sniffed.” Thanks, Francesca!

March