By March

I ate all the pumpkin pie.  It’s time to get into the candy, isn’t it?

After reading Joe’s beguiling review of L’Occitane’s new Immortelle de Corse EDP, I took a trip to the mall to smell it.  Immortelle and honey are two of my fave fragrance notes.  And … well… okay, I got the honey, although it didn’t hang around too long.   I got no immortelle at all.   Sadface.  Instead it became an odd bread-like thing on my skin, sort of like L’Artisan Bois Farine only sweeter, and then vamoosed shortly thereafter.  I’ll stick with my wonderful imported-from-Europe bottle of Honey & Vanilla LE they did last year.  I still miss their Honey & Lemon.  And there’s always Miel de Bois.

While I was there I tried the L’Occitane Labdanum EDP (both this and the Immortelle are part of their Voyage en Mediterranee collection).  This got raves on their website.  Gah.  AMBER AMBER AMBER.  The online reviews say “spicy and not too sweet,” but, man, was it sweeeet on me.  Like any other potential scrubber, of course this one lasted for hours.  But I’m clearly in the minority on this one.  The men were loving it (for themselves.)

The Different Company de Bachmakov came out a million years ago (2009? 2010?) and I sniffed it then and thought it was kind of a snooze, and forgot all about it.  I’ve been playing with it recently; notes are cedar, bergamot, shiso leaves, coriander leaves, freesia, nutmeg and craie douce.  It’s kind of a cold tea fragrance.  It should be right up my alley but I hate the top – that coriander/herb combo reaches out and strangles, for about ten minutes it smells like peppered urine on me.  And I don’t mean in a good way, either.  Then it settles down into a really pretty scent – dry spicy tea.  I think of it at that point as somewhat in the same vein as Prada Infusion d’Iris – an office-appropriate background fragrance that doesn’t bore the crap out of me.  For something fairly subtle, it’s tenacious.  I got a full eight hours out of it.

The next two were in my package from Neil Morris, I have no idea what the notes are and I’m going to amuse myself by not finding out.

The Darkness of Trees reminded me of why it’s always good to give a NM scent time to set itself up on the skin.  I sprayed it expecting a fir forest, got something entirely different and strange, thought ugh, and waited.  Then I spent 45 minutes trying to place the smell.  I found it.  It is the exact smell of the inside of a summer cabin at sleep-away camp in the mid-1970s.  It’s mostly fresh-sawn lumber and forest (not pine forest, just the woods) with a hint of dirt and old cotton mattresses.  If I’d custom-ordered this from CB I Hate Perfumes, CB himself couldn’t have done it better, and it would be called Summer Cabin 1973.  I highly doubt this is what Neil was dreaming of, and it’s wonderful.

Finally, Tea House – hehehe, I know why you perfumistas are loving this one.  Tea, hay, and a hint of leathery barnyard, like the barnyard JAR scent or that vile Miller Harris Jane Birkin thing, dialed way down.  I have zero interest in smelling it on myself.  On a man, however, I would be on that like a duck on a junebug.

Neil Morris notes for those of you who can’t find these on his site – “Midnight Shadows is available now, even though it’s not yet on our site. If someone wants a sample all they have to do is go to our VAULT section and order ANY vault sample. Then in the comments section at checkout, write that you’d really want Midnight Shadows. The same for FB’s. Order any VAULT FB and tell us in the comments section you want MS instead. That’s it! We’ll hopefully be adding it soon but till then this works fairly easily.”

And for those of you who might have missed it in Thanksgiving travels, I posted on Neil’s Midnight Shadows last Weds.

Samples: the mall for L’Occitane, Neil Morris, and Anita for de Bachmakov.

March

by Musette

The notion of degrees of virginity has always mystified me – imo,  you either are or you aren’t although apparently I am Jurassic  on that one.  I get a giggle with olive oil descriptors, too, imagining that the olives in extra virgin olive oil aren’t even touched by human hands (or other parts)! let alone relieved of their oil.  Instead the Archangel Olive  comes down and poof! The Immaculate Pressing.  Yeah, I know…but it is funny.  Oh, c’mon…

So I was disappointed when I met with The Different Company’s Pure Virgin.   I was hoping for a way more interesting name (or at least an olive note).   Celine Ellena is supposedly leaving the company and this is her swan song.  It’s such a departure from the line’s original trend that, at first, I thought she might’ve been mad at them – the equivalent of my friend peeing in her husband’s Aramis when she found out he’d cheated on her.  Then I got a little scrab of de Bachmakov  which to me feels totally different from the early scents so I started rethinking the motivation for PV.  Perhaps deBachmakov signals a different direction for the House and Pure Virgin is simply the next step.  March and I discussed the early scents – Rose Poivree is magnificent, smelling like (according to March) butt (she’s right).  Sublime Balkiss took the fresh/fruity genre and crunched it up with that marine note, like blackberries packed in kosher salt with a touch of vinegar.  Charmes and Leaves hews to the silver/green motif, combining the bracing freshness of mint with that greeny/slimy galbanum thing – all of those are a bit weird and definitely not for everybody but there’s no mistaking  the spare elegance that I equate with The Different Company.

Pure Virgin?  No weird or strange going on there.  It’s a pretty, sweet, powdery scent, like a sugared-up vintage 22.  It’s selling briskly, much to the delight of those SAs who make their living selling perfume and probably have to hump to sell some of the other, stranger offerings (and can you blame them?).  Notes are: Evanescent Musc, Light Wind, Linen Flower,White Rose Cedarwood, Calisson

alrighty!  we’re going to stomp right on past the “Light Wind’, eyes averted, and head straight to Calisson. According to Wikipedia Calissons are a traditional French candy consisting of a smooth, pale yellow, homogeneous paste of candied fruit (especially melons and oranges) and ground almonds topped with a thin layer of royal icing. Calissons have a texture not unlike that of marzipan, but with a fruitier, distinctly melon-like flavor.

And you know what?  That’s Pure Virgin in a candy-coated nutshell!   It has a pale yellow-white feel to it, like sunshine through dotted swiss curtains. I don’t get much melon but I do get the crystalline sweetness of powdered sugar.   I was going to snark on it because it’s not all complicated and philosophical but it’s not supposed to be.  It’s a powdery, sweet, skin scent done well.  I’m just surprised it’s come out of The Different Company.   I would classify it as a less terrifying Teinte de Neige.  And impure virgins can wear it, too!  Just not this impure virgin.

So…have any of you tried this?  What’s your opinion of powdery scents?  I like mine to have a whiff of rotting meat, myself.  Others go the route of the funnel cake.  What say you?

I spritzed this at Barneys where, after 3 days of sniffage, they were heartily sick of me!

by Musette

When we were in our 20s (back in the Jefferson administration)  my galpals and I  fantasized about our married coworkers’ lives -a permanent partner for Chinese food and Friday Movies, sex every night, total validation on Valentine’s Day…and the cessation of the ignominy of the Blind Date.  One by one, we entered into couplehood, thinking our problems were all behind us, especially the Blind Date.

Then came an even scarier Event: Couples Blind Dating.   When you’re single, blind dating is weird enough – but usually it’s just between you and the date.   But once you are a couple, you end up occasionally dating other couples – folks you Might Not Know But Your Partner Does.   And the stakes are often higher.  Is this an old pal? A friend from work? A Business Connection?  What a pain.  Now try it when you’re older than dirt, you’ve worked all day and you are NOT in the mood.  What do you wear?  I struggled with this in the 20 minutes I had to throw on some lipstick and a heavier jacket  (it was a night to stay in with a hot cocoa and a good book, not go gallivanting off to dinner with strangers).  I toyed with the idea of my new love, Diaghilev but  if the night sucked CheezWhiz  I would be stuck with the association.  Mitsouko was out of the question – I’m working on softening my mien, not ramping up the terror quotient.   I needed a comfy scent that would remind me of me, in case I hated every aspect of them, but a perfume I could kick to the curb for awhile if the association was too tiresome.

I chose Bas de Soie. Just so ya know, this is NOT a review of Bas de Soie.   I think I’ve already reviewed it but in case I didn’t, here it is, in a nutshell:  I like it.  It’s got a facet that I find compelling/slightly irritating (which is the compelling part, I think)…but even though I really like it, I have no emotional attachment to it.  Vi-ola!   A perfect ‘sacrifice’ scent.  I threw it on, it was great – nobody sneezed or threw up and it kept me engaged through the whole evening, which turned out just fine, btw – they’re nice people and I liked them enough to hope they thought I was nice people, too.  But if it had icked out I could’ve shelved Bas de Soie for a few months with nary a tear.

On the way home  I started wondering ‘what scents would I be willing to sacrifice, should a particular occasion blow up in my face?’   Not throwaway scents; these sacrifices would be scents you like/love that you could rely upon to get you through a potentially challenging situation but if it turned ugly it wouldn’t kill you to retire that scent for a long time (this is of particular importance for those of you who have scent/memory issues ).   I thought about the following situations and here is a random list of what might/did/could work for me:

Cold Customer Meeting: Hermes Caleche. It’s confident and ladylike, with a coolness that gives pause…but its very aloofness means I could box it on the way-back shelf if that cold customer broke my day. Ask Caleche if it cares.  It doesn’t.

New Mother in Law: Fracas (I can’t believe I might throw Fracas under the bus; then again, I’ve had great luck with mothers in law – besides, NOBODY can keep Fracas down.  She would be back, like the Terminator)

Job Interview:  TDC Charmes and Leaves. It’s lovely.  I love it.  But it’s innocuous.  Innocuous has a way of being expendable for the time it takes to get my guts back.

Amicable divorce lawyer meeting : Calyx. It was his fave.  If it got nasty, oh well.  If not, it’s a nice memory of a nice ending.  I got lucky on that one, both with the ex and the perfume. I still wear it now and then, 20 yrs later.

Wedding of someone you adore who is Not Marrying You: Shalimar perfume/extrait. It can take the hit and Lord knows, if you put enough on and  wrangle even a quick hug, the wedding night will have ‘you’ all over it.  Grab a slow dance and your aura might stick around through the honeymoon.  Not that I would know anything about that kinda thing…

Lunch with an old rival: Cartier Brillante. It makes me feel thinner and slightly richer…but if it turns out that the shrike is still richer and thinner than you it can go back in its red leatherette box for a Season.  Next time you take it out maybe you will have laid off the chocolate cake!  And you’re in fundages again.  Birkin-level fundages!  It could happen!

What are your challenging occasions?  And what scents would you be willing to sacrifice if the  scent association gods demanded?

photo:  Morning Glory/flower sacrifice

BTW, someone asked how to tell who writes what posts just so they can have context, and we do have the little icons at the bottom, but I think it may be much easier to put the name at the top just for ease of knowing who is writing before you start reading.

Today I’m going to get peaches fresh from the orchard.  There’s only one month each year you can get them, and this is the month, and I can’ t begin to tell you how my stomach is flipping around in joy and my tastebuds are already salivating at a pace it’s difficult to keep up with.  We have a recipe that’s been passed down for ages in my family for Honey Cream Peach Pie. I have no idea where it originally came from. Could have been Ladies Home Journal for all I know, but we have been making it faithfully every year with Colorado fresh peaches for about 100 years.  I’ll be making mine this weekend – like 3 pies worth.  Wearing Mitsouko, I think.

The Different Company de Bachmakov, released in July 2010, was created by Celine Ellena. Notes of Cedar, coriander leaf, bergamot, white freesia, shiso leaves, nutmeg.  I could bathe in this. The Iunx Blanche on one side of me and this on the other, and would I really ever need anything else?  de Bachmakov is crisp, refreshing, slightly woody, warmed with nutmeg like the sun barely hitting an iceberg – never melting it, just making it feel cozy as its time on your skin lengthens.  The Freesia in the list of notes was scary, I was thinking this was give it a mortal overdose of sweet, but nope.  There is something really remotely candied that the freesia brings, but I can’t pin it down any more than that.  Not sweet, just another angle in that reflects instead of absorbs.

March needs to wear this while reading her Scandinavian novels.

Really gorgeous and elegantly easy to wear all day and night.  I had a little 2.5 ml spray of it, and I already spritzed through most of it, but I smell great doing it.  Robin’s review is Here, and Octavian’s review is here.  I think there is a close to uninanimous love vibe going ’round on this.

Now for my pie. Mmmmmm, pieeeee.  But I have an open mind if anyone wants to share their peach pie recipe or any other recipes for peaches.

Patty

Hello darlings!  You’re stuck with ol’ Musette again, as Mistress March wings her way to GayP.  I promise she’ll be back soon.  I promise.

Spring, where is thy sting?  I was going to complain about still  being caught in winter, then I realized this IS Spring.  Last week it was  cold, then rainy and warm, then sunny and hot (60F!  Alert the media!), now it’s back to blustery/chilly/sunny/cloudy/ohlook!there’s a robin!/snow-showery??  not a flower in sight/crap! it’s hot!/I’m freeeezing!! – in short, Spring in the Midwest.

This weird transitional time  challenges my perfume choices.  The beautiful Diorissimo is just too fragile for these mercurial days – in the time it’s taken me to type that sentence the sun has come and gone at least 5 times  and my go-to aldehydes are shivering in their boxes.  Big Floral goes all Suzanne Sugarbaker in this .  Funny how this wet, muddy cold wreaks more havoc than icy temps.

For me, this time calls for dirt.  Wet dirt.  And violets and the sharp edge of mint.  The wet dirt is obvious -  every single square inch from here to Nebraska is a sucking maw of mud but the goats are dropping their kids and I’m seeing chickens dropping eggs in the neighbor’s yard.  I pay homage to it with Liz Zorn’s Violets and Rainwater (like you all weren’t expecting that) – I likened it to finding an overturned pot of violets and daffodils on wet, windy Lexington Avenue but it works just as well in a muddy  field.  What you guys aren’t expecting from my anosmic self  is another smash hit for this transitional weather:  Le Labo Iris 39.  Ha!  Gotcha!  This is not only one of the only irises I can smell, it’s one of the only irises I actually ‘get’  – and definitely the ONLY iris I love.  And I love this stuff because it doesn’t actually smell like orris to me (not that I would know all that much since I usually can’t smell it).  I get ‘wet, muddy, windy Spring’ – dirt and violets and crocuses and a touch of wet leather – my bike jacket smells like this when I get caught in the rain.  Is that orris?  I wouldn’t know.  But it smells yum, pulling off the insane trick of smelling both complex and uncomplicated.

Mint is one of those herbs that always signifies early Spring to me -nevermind that I won’t actually get any blooming mint until  late June – but this is the time for hot, honeyed-mint tea, after taking the boys for a brisk walk  up Bullycow Hill to see the calves.  Too late in the season for hot chocolate, too early for lemonade, mint tea is the perfect seasonal bridge – and my beloved Charmes et Feuilles (The Different Company) is the epitome of a blustery Spring day. This one is green but not the warm green of Vent Vert.  Charmes et Feuilles is a tinkling sterling silver windchime in a mossy, rain-swept  knot-garden.  I’m trying not to wear a hole in my split (wait, that sounds..uh..) but I think I will just Shut Up and get the big ol’ silvery green bottle one of these days.  Oooh!  I almost forgot Geranium Pour Monsieur! I love so many of the Malles but this one has a special place in my heart.  It’s minty, which I love, without smelling like and the hint of scented geranium leaf is, like the leaves themselves, elusive.  I need to give this one a lot more love – it’s very deserving.

I’m hoping we’ll have this weather for awhile.  It’s a novel departure from our typical zero to 70F.   The bluebells and lilacs might stand a chance and I can play with these transitional scents a little while longer.

What’s up in your perfume and weather neck of the woods?

source:  all my stuff