Crap, sorry guys!  I got busy on another project this afternoon that kept going and going and going, I just looked up to see that it’s 11, and I got, well, really, nothing.  I have to say, working with graphics on a Mac can really suck you in.

My major new find that I’m playing with – yes, another new foundation.  Well, how many are too many?  The problem with foundations is you get them, they look good for a season or a while, then eventually something just doesn’t fit quite right anymore. Sorta like my relationships.  This newest one has some promise. Koh Gen Do Moisture Foundation in 023.  It’s a little tube of color, and when I put it on, it really does look like I’m photoshopping my face.

Now, what usually happens is the foundation goes on great, I’m loving it, thinking I’ve shaved a year or two off my 52-year-old face, and then one day I’m outside or in the car, glance in the rearview mirror, and I think my face looks like a mask.  My face has really tiny pores, which is a blessing, but it also means that foundation of any type can sit on the top of my face and turn into, yes, that’s right, a mask..

But this one shows some promise – three days and still no signs of mask-like behavior.  It gives this glowy tint to my face – my skin, but better.  Sephora has it, as does Barney’s and others.  I looked at the KGD website, and they seem to have little trial sets of their makeup for $20, which is awesome!!  Then you don’t have to spend a fortune to find out if it works for you or not.

Of course I still love many of my other foundations – the Metier one is always in heavy rotation, despite it having been chewed on by Vinnie the Bulldog after one of his cat accomplices knocked it off the bathroom counter.    This KGD thing just seems, I dunno, better coverage, but looks like less.  Digging it.  I like it well enough that I think I need to investigate some of their skin care, which gets pretty good raves with a quick clickety-clicking around the internets.

Fragrance?  Got ahold of that new Comme des Garcons thing.  Notes – aldehydes, hawthorn, lilac, flower oxides, industrial glue, brown scotch (packing) tape, musk and styrax. Freaky on the open with all that  sparkly glue and tape,  it smells like school, getting dangerously close to the mimeograph paper smell – no, not quite there, but I start yearning for it by sniffing this.  It’s funky and completely Industrial CdG,  never unwearable, which I think is a real gift, to be that freaky and weird and sorta hot.  Long into the drydown, there’s a real beauty to it that’s not very freakish.  It’s pretty great. I think I have about a sample I can squeeze out from the spray sample I have left. So drop a comment telling me about your foundation saga or how to cook a goose.  Yes, we’re going all Bob Crachett this year and doing goose for Christmas. I know the fat thing is a problem and requires some special care, but I love goose!  Help!

Patty

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.

I had a visit with a real estate agent friend of mine yesterday, and she was telling me how she was getting ready to go on her “March Break” (what spring break is referred to here in Canada) trip to California with her husband and 10 year-old son. They’re flying into San Francisco, driving down the coast to San Diego, and heading back from there. I would love to take that trip one day; the Pacific Coast Highway is one of the most scenic – not to mention nerve wracking – roads I’ve ever driven; albeit only from SF to to the Monterrey peninsula. I especially love the town of Carmel, not because one of my all-time favourite movies takes place there (Play Misty for Me), but because it is so beautiful. I saw one of the most spectacular sunsets ever on the beach at Carmel, and I happen to think that region is one of the most beautiful in all of North America.

My friend’s upcoming trip got me thinking about the giant redwoods and sequoias, and also bougainvillea flowers. I love them, but they’re impossible to grow outside of a temperate climate. They’re all over California, like those massive trees. Don’t get me wrong; Canada has some fabulous landscapes, but there’s just something about California that you don’t find anywhere else. I’m talking nature – not the rest of it.

After a disappointing sniff around my trusty Shoppers Drug Mart: Marc Jacobs Daisy Eau So Fresh – nice, but eau so unnecessary, Vera Wang Preppy Princess – love the bottle but not the preponderance of patchouli, and Beyonce Heat Rush – a little lighter on the unwashed ladyparts, but still way too heavy on the fruit, I went looking within for inspiration.

Sequoia and Palisander are two scents from the Comme des Garçons Red Series. I’ve always loved CdG for their originality, especially their earlier “Series” scents; I wrote about the Incense Series a couple of weeks ago, and in my opinion, those are some of the best incense scents available. Even though these two are named after majestic trees, they are not single-note wood fragrances. They’re more complex than that, and as hauntingly beautiful as a Carmel sunset.

Sequoia is comprised of California redwood, red rum, oppoponax, kara-karounde, Chinese agarwood and mahogany. According to LuckyScent, kara-karounde is similar to jasmine. It does give the scent a bit of a floral edge, but not indolic in any way. It’s slightly powdery (the oppoponax, I’m guessing), but it’s woody and slightly boozy. There’s a faint vegetal quality to it that reminds me of the smell of my sleepaway camp cabin, but in a good way. If you’re into woody, slightly musty and evocative, this one is a keeper.

Palisander is the more exotic of the two, and more feminine in my opinion. Some reviews I read mentioned that Palisander is a tad too masculine, but for the life of me, I can’t smell that. The notes are Brazilian palisander wood, Virginian red cedar, Japanese red chili peppers, saffron and myrrh. On me, I get heavy saffron and myrrh, which is why I’m describing it as “feminine”, and lots of dry cedar in the background to balance out the sweetness of myrrh.

After considering these scents and comparing them to the new ones I smelled the other day, I got to thinking: when we wear scent, are we looking to conjure old memories, create new ones, or both? I’ve been thinking about summer camp, Carmel and the first time I ever tasted something made with saffron. Those are old memories conjured by things that you have to go looking pretty hard for. The things I smelled in Shoppers are all as common as it gets. Which is more pleasing: what’s in-your-face and familiar, or haunting and memorable? I’m going with haunting and memorable.

Your turn: Do you have any scents in your collection that remind you of trips, places, or regions you admire?

Disclosure: The scents I wrote about are part of my (diminished) collection.

Sorry for the “punt” last week. I was in a haze of exhaustion from schlepping boxes and unpacking. Now, it’s all over, save for my 3 boxes of DVDs that have yet to find a home outside of their cardboard confines.

For those of you who read my post, In Memoriam, from last November, I have an update: My furniture, my clothing, and most of my belongings have been returned, save for the balance of my perfume collection. My aunt has chosen to hold my bottles hostage; why I don’t know, and I really can’t be bothered to call her attorney to find out. I don’t want this to turn into the “airing of grievances”, but I never in my life thought that perfume could be used as a bargaining chip. Jewelry, yes; art and antiquities, absolutely; but perfume? Come on. As Patty said yesterday, “Life happens”, and I’ve sure as hell had a lot of it happen to me lately. So, “Auntie”: enjoy my ‘fumes. I’m sure they smelled a hell of a lot nicer on me than they will on you. Oh, wait! You don’t wear perfume. Well, if onions and garlic count; that’s about as subjective as Mitsouko and Chanel No. 5.

Moving on…The bottles I do have in my possession include the 5 Comme des Garçons Incense Series scents. I’ve been finding a lot of comfort in incense lately, and for the past week I’ve been bathing in Jaisalmer, Avignon and Ouarzazate. They’re all spicy, dry and slightly sweet; just what the doctor ordered. I’ve also been cooking up a storm with curry, tofu, vegetables and rice, so I’m guessing my food cravings have caught up to my scent cravings. My three choices draw their inspiration from Morocco, India and France, so at some point, I’m going to have to find a good steak frites somewhere.

What is it about incense that captivates me so? I’m not a Roman Catholic, so the answer is not “because it reminds me of church”. It’s the warmth and calm it brings, not to mention its exoticism. I read a post on Facebook yesterday that said something to the effect of, “Oud is the new vanilla”. I must admit, I’m not particularly fond of oud; it suffocates me, and in my current digs, I’ve had the window open in -10C weather. Yes, I am sans thermostat in this place, and I can already tell that my scent choices (such as they are) will be affected by that. I’m not looking for any big bear hugs as I once did; now it’s all about gentle envelopment. Incense certainly does the trick on that count. When I was 24, I didn’t mind not having a thermostat; 20 years later, I mind. I don’t think I have to explain why.

I’m glad I still have these precious bottles in my possession. Incense is an underrated ingredient in fragrances, and usually, you can barely tell it’s there. I’m referring to the mainstream concoctions we’re all so fond of slamming. I think Sarah Jessica Parker’s Lovely paid a nice homage to incense, but try finding a bottle of it now. Estee Lauder Sensuous has a wee bit of it, but nothing to get too excited about. No, you have to go searching in “nicheland” to find all the really good incense scents, and I’m fine with that. Like oud, it’s not for everyone, but when you love it, you really fall for it. I’m content to let oud have its 15 minutes; maybe next year, I’ll read that incense is the new oud.

I’ll be residing here every Friday from now on. Please plan accordingly.

Do you like incense? If so, which ones are your faves?

Disclosure: The scents mentioned are from my own (diminished) collection.

Hello, darlings!   As you know, there are some fragrances of which one whiff is enough to make you want to vomit (EldO’s Secretions Magnifique springs immediately to mind.)  There are other fragrances that are, in some way, reminiscent of actual vomit.  (Oh, look, it must be March posting today…) For me, as many of you know, one such fragrance is the ubiquitous Angel, which is redolent of the smell of upchuck after your kid’s eaten a little too much of the Easter Basket.  I think that choco-vanilla-patch combo is one of the most disgusting smells ever concocted by a legit perfumer, and Angel’s vast popularity continues to baffle me.  (Angel lovers, don’t bother flaming me.  Look, I love Light Blue.  And Dior Addict.  Obviously I have no taste at all.)

Another category of sick-making fragrances is typified by the spice-market scents, and I happen to be quite fond of those.  Those of you who aren’t fond of them really, really hate them – they are, I suppose, The Souk Threw Up On Me.  Get Melissa started on Laura Mercier’s fall LE, Minuit Enchante, which she found anything but enchanting.  She couldn’t get that thing off her fast enough, although, unfortunately, Minuit Enchante isn’t in any hurry to leave.  It would be a fantastic/terrible scrubber.  I bought a bottle.  I looooove eeeeet.   I love that screechy agarwood at the bottom, and all those yummy spices at the top.  Everyone stayed far, far away from it at my perfume party.  Melissa probably begged them not to touch it.

Daphne, the new fragrance by Daphne Guinness (who I am pretty sure is an heir to the Guinness fortune, yes?) was done by Antoine Lie for Comme des Garcons. Notes are bitter orange, incense, saffron, Centifolia rose, Tunisian jasmine, tuberose, iris, patchouli, aoud, amber and vanilla.  It is decidedly in the spice-market category, where there is no such thing as Too Much (and correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s sort of the impression I get of ol’ Daphne.)  At $150 for 50 ml it is expensive-ish, but since you’re not talking about real money any more until you hit $250, I guess it’s not ridiculously priced.  Also, is it just me, or does reading someone described as a “muse” make your eyes roll back in your head reflexively?

Melissa gave me her sample vial, with her blessings and strict orders never to spray it anywhere near her again.

Two sprays of Daphne is probably one spray too much, this thing is huge.  And for the first thirty minutes, it’s nothing but love – it reminded me quite a bit of Bal a Versailles, the parfum, overlayed with something containing even more candied sweetness.  I thought it was kind of a riot, although – WARNING – then I went through a ten-minute phase in there of almost total anosmia, but it’s there, people!  Please, for the love of God and other humans, don’t reapply!  I was in touch with Daphne then, I was digging her, I was feeling her hippy-dippy Morocco vibe.  I was sort of channeling that other heiress who used to swan around Marrakesh all the time in her fabulous caftans … Talitha Getty?

And then things started to come apart, and then turn ugly, in a way that was fascinating but I can’t quite bear to repeat.  Daphne got bigger and bigger and bigger, like a Macy’s parade float, while at the same time it stretched and stretched until all the interesting bits – the candied part, the bitter orange, a great leather-glove note, the white florals that gave it some lift – fell away, and I was left being slowly strangled by this web of terrible, bedizened bitterness – saffrochouloud, I guess, all sour and raspy and hateful and strange. It was expensive and awful, like those evening dresses at Neiman Marcus that look like they’ve been attacked by a psychopath armed with a BeDazzler.  Daphne combines the subtlety of Liberace with the warmth of Darth Vader.  It is oversized and grim and have I mentioned bitter?

Which is weird, because I swear, hasn’t everyone been complaining about how the sweetness was killing them?  Like the unbearable gagging sweetness of those giant faux party-balloon dog sculptures by (crazy-like-a-fox) Jeff Koons?  Man, I hate those things.  And those sliced up cows and sharks in formaldehyde by that other wanker  – and good luck unloading those pieces of dreck in the current art market, suckas!  But where was I?  (Sorry, we switched over to the modern art screed channel briefly).

So.  Good news: I killed off all the sweetness in Daphne.  Bad news:  I was left with the blanket of bitter tears of saffron, patch and oud that forced me to come home, scrub my arms with Liquid Dawn and change my sweater while trying not to breathe through my nose.  After which I applied a healing, head-clearing balm of Annick Goutal Mandragore.  (And later: Gucci Rush, my adorable new mini!  It dribbles just the right amount, no overspray.  See, I told you I had no taste!)

Any of the rest of you tried this thing?  How do you feel about spice-heavy scents?  Isn’t Malle’s Noir Epices the most fabulous thing you ever smelled?  (hehehe)  Go ahead, ’tis the season, hate on it.   Or tell me your favorites, what if I’ve missed one?  I love DSH’s a lot, by the way — Cimabue, Mahjoun, Sienna…

image: Daphne Guinness, British Vogue, March 2008

March