Where were all of you when this happened?!!!??

Officials are searching for three individuals who allegedly stole a truck loaded with 20-thousand dollars in perfume samples yesterday and kidnapped the truck driver and his 11-year-old son. Todd Brunson says he had just loaded his truck with pallets of perfume at a Hollywood warehouse and was pulling away from the dock when a man came up with a gun. He says two more men jumped into the truck, blindfolded him and tied his wrists with duct tape. The men kept him and his son Cody in the passenger cab of the truck while driving to another location. Brunson says when they arrived he heard the cargo being unloaded. He and his son were later left in the truck at another spot. Authorities have since recovered the perfume in Miami-Dade. A possible scent for the thieves: Eau de Prison.

I know every single of one of you are thinking the exact same thing… wonder what perfume samples were in that truck? 

Today’s post is a joint review of sample scents from the line Novaya Zarya, of Moscow, which Marina of Perfume-Smellin’ Things sent us. The only one I’d smelled before is Russian Forest, which is a wonderful woody-balsamy fragrance.

Check out this link to their ordering source, cosmeticbag.com – these things are cheap, cheap, cheap! They are also light, which is perfect for this time of year. Be prepared to slap on a fair amount. Fragrance notes listed below are from the cosmeticbag.com website.

In no particular order, here are our reactions:

Ambre Dore or Golden Amber - Eau de Parfum Spray - 1.7 oz / 50ml $12.00. Warm Fragrance Head Notes: Violet Petals. Heart Notes: Rose, Patchouli, Coriander. Base: Amber and Oak Moss.

March: I’m not the queen of Amber, unless it’s buried in some floriental. This one is a Wearable Amber along the lines of iPdF Ambra de Nepal (another amber for non-amber lovers.) I probably wouldn’t run out and buy it (even for $12) but it’s light and pretty, with a little pleasant musk-anise note to keep it from being cloying.

Patty: A soft amber. Very nice and clean smelling. Amber is another note (along with patchouli and muguet, see below) that aren’t my faves as the prominent note, but this one is done very nicely. It smells like gramma’s drawers, soft and sweet and seasoned, nostalgic.

March: Uh, P. Gramma’s drawers? As Katie says, *snerk*

Arome Musque or Aroma Musk - Eau de Parfum Spray - 1.7 oz-50 ml $12.00. A delightfully light and fresh signature scent with sensuous undertones of golden musk. This provocative fragrance has a gently powdery body with subtle elements of woodsy florals.

March: Um. Next? (later) Okay, too light to be a scrubber, but there’s something in there that strays into mildew territory. (even later) Hey, the mildew’s growing on me. Figuratively speaking. Sort of candied mildew. Actually, I like it.

Patty: I tend to not be much of a musk fan normally, but this one is certainly pretty and is a nice combination to soften the musk and keep it from being overpowering. Sexy and flirty, it’s a musk I could wear.

Melody of Flowers - Iris - Perfume Splash 1.7 oz / 50 ml $10.00 (no info on notes)

March: OMG. Cat pee. I know Patty loves this, so I won’t say anything more.

Patty: I *adore* this scent. Iris and some happy little citrussy notes create this bubble iris cloud that is intoxicating. It is pretty linear, but I’m absolutely okay with that since I don’t want it to change at all. I need gallons of this — lasting power is a little short, but fresh applications are great. It screams Summer Scent. At $10 for 50 ml, I can buy gallons and not feel guilty. Can you bathe in this stuff? Seriously?

Green Vetiver – EDT Spray - 3.4 oz $12.00. Vetiver is a blend of fresh green notes in the woody family. Head notes: Orange, Mandarine, Verbena. Heart of Cedarwood and Flower. Base of Oakmoss and Amber.

March: Who doesn’t like vetiver? Well, I don’t. Or, more precisely, vetiver doesn’t like me – it goes off in the direction of cat pee or feet, or, if things are really dire, both. One of the reasons I’m behind on sampling men’s fragrances is I’m always terrified vetiver is lurking in there somewhere, waiting to jump out and scare me. But this! This is wonderful, what I imagine vetiver to be like on vetiver-lovers. A green, glass-like scent with a faint sweetness and a hint of woods. And maybe the REAL reason I like it is … if you look carefully at the notes listed, it contains “verbena,� which has a green, lemon-y scent I’m fond of in the garden, but there’s no vetiver listed. Well, there you go. I probably love this Vetiver because it contains … no vetiver.

Patty: Very green with some wood chips throw in. The orange and mandarine make it a little sweeter than most green scents are, but the verbena tends to overpower that pretty quickly. Nothing not to like here, but it fades too quickly, and the base notes don’t have enough ooomph to keep my interest.

Carnation - Eau de Cologne Body Splash - 3 oz $3.00! (no info on notes)

March: My favorite of the bunch, along with Russian Forest. I can’t believe this thing is three bucks. Less spicy than Floris Malmaison and less heady than Lorenzo Villoresi Garofano, this is a straightforward, light, breezy carnation that’s perfect for summer.

Patty: Spicy, reminds me a little of the Floris Malmaison, though this one has a little different base in it. I like it because I like carnation scents in general, but it’s pretty straightforward and light.

Muguet- Eau de Cologne Body Splash - 3 oz $3.00 (no info on notes)

March: Weird. I tried this one three times, and all three times I got nothing resembling muguet. Instead it’s a creamy musk with a little green and (ruh-roh!) just a squidge of Play-Doh. It’s not offensive, exactly, but it’s not a screaming buy, either. If I attach my nose to my skin and huff, it’s floral, sort of. I’ll pass on this one.

Patty: Muguet is usually not my bag, and this isn’t changing my mind to get a new bag. This smells like plastic bag — could it be the one I’ve got over my head to block that smell. Gack, the only scrubber of the bunch.

Russian Forest - Eau de Cologne Body Splash - 3 oz $3.00 – no info on notes

March: I’m doing a special head-to-head with Coty Wild Woods! Russian Forest is … very light and sweeter, more perfume-y. Definitely something floral in there. When they say splash they mean it, this one is extremely light. A mildly salty note I also really like. Coty Wild Woods is a stronger, more conventional woody scent with a leather-musk note and a mild green twist that I wish stuck around longer.

Patty: reviewed this way back in our blind fragrance swap and called it very nice, with a Guerlain feel to it, almost Mitsouko-ish. Which is a fair assessment; I think I get less of the spices than she does.

PS Aromascope, Perfume-Smellin’ Things and Scentzilla are also posting on these fragrances today.  And here’s a link to an interesting post that Boisdejasmin did about the fragrance Krasnaya Moskva (Red Moscow) from the same line.

Marlen at PerfumeCritic just did a review of Montale Jasmin Full earlier this month, but in the comments to one of March’s posts recently, two people chimed in about it being an awesome jasmine. So I -had- to get it. You people (yes, I’m looking at all of you) are responsible for my kids’ college education winding up spread around the world in some perfumer’s coffers.  Again, Suravionline came to my rescue with a sample of the swoonworthy Jasmin Full. 

 A blend of jasmine, orange blossom and honeysuckle, this is definitely not one for the floral hatahs. I happen to love heady florals, especially jasmine, orange blossom and honeysuckle, so as you might imagine, spritzing this on made my eyes roll back in my head in bliss. 

Many years ago, I used to have a great big Newfie, Crosby, and he was just a joy and a love, but he was also about 150 pounds and destroyed my backyard, which was quite small. Cros had a heart defect and died when he was 2.  My dad died about four months later, right before Christmas, of congestive heart failure.  Once I had my backyard again, I decided to make a fragrant oasis in memory of my dad. I didn’t want pretty flowers, though they would be welcome, I just wanted smelly ones, the kind that he and I both loved.  

An inch of dirt and weeds had to be scraped first just to start cultivating. Then the planting started — the hardy survived, the ones that did not thrive on benign neglect just died or got taken over by something else. Did you know that in a fair fight a swamp rose will take a wisteria?  Surprised me too. I planted a sprig of honeysuckle by the back door, next to the Swamp Rose, and they loved each other and grew happily alongside. Allegedly in Colorado there’s some bug that keeps getting into the honeysuckle and destroying it, but I think that bug doesn’t like me because my honeysuckle grew when it shouldn’t have, was just this huge bushy thing filled with blossoms.  Every spring I would  bring out the pots of Star and Arabian Jasmine that I had sheltered all winter.  Growing and keeping jasmine in Colorado is really not for the faint of heart.  It can be done, but at great personal labor, which I am normally averse to, and I did give up on keeping them going last year.  Before I got lazy, the jasmine would be out in the late spring in pots, with the honeysuckle and carnations nearby, and the cool of early morning and early evening would have the most magical perfumed smell.  No orange blossom available, but I can say absolutely that Montale Jasmin Full is the closest I’ve gotten to that beautiful smell in nature. So thanks to Marlen and Ina, and any others that chimed in on the praises of this lovely creation, this is my new favorite jasmine perfume.  Just 1000% gorgeous.  All jasmine lovers need this in their perfume wardrobe.

Several of you have asked for Buddy snaps, and I do try to convince Buddy to get his picture taken, but he spazzes out every time we try. He’s a little camera shy and lays down, turns away and has been known to crawl under the chair and hide. Sneaking up on him when he’s been sleeping is really the only way to catch him, but even then, he’s still pissed, and no picture I have taken of him captures his joy, and even less so when he’s slunking off hiding from the camera (all three pictures there on the left were him just barely tolerating the picture-taking).  I have no idea why picture-taking upsets him so much, but it does, he hates it with a slobbery passion.  But I hate people chomping on food when we are on the telephone, so I figger he’s entitled to this eccentricity. This is the most joyous, happy dog on the face of the planet, but cameras and wind and light sabers (not wimpy light sabers, the good ones that light up and make the noises – love these things, we have light saber fights daily in my house) do the same thing to him — turn him into a hiding, shivering goober.  I love him, though.  Has anyone read Marley and Me?  I read it last week, and Marley was another yellow lab that really was rotten – rotten like Buddy is –just a thieving, exhuberant, shedding, drooling mess of yellow fur.  Reading that book made me appreciate all that Buddy has taught me in the two years I have had him. 

Buddy went to doggie boot camp a year ago because he was even a worse misbehaved mess, and they did a great job with him — he walks on a leash great, heels, stays, etc.  They also taught Buddy about barriers, that he has to stay out of places or in places unless he gets the okay, and he does all right with this most of the time. Cats can go by, he stays put.  Cats come up to the door to the office and tease him, and he whines and keeps pouncing at them, but he stays on the right side of the line.  One of my sons or my husband walk into his line of sight, he vooms over that line like it never existed, leaping and bounding and butt wiggling and panting and smiling… even though he knows I am going to Bad Dog him in about 2 seconds when I get aholt of him. He doesn’t care, it was worth it, he got to say hi to his beloveds.  He is simply willing to do the time for the crime.

This is how I feel about perfume. I can behave myself about most everything else in my life, but give me a beautiful perfume, and my butt is wiggling, I’m panting and leaping and bounding for my credit card, like for Jasmine Full.  On this point, Buddy and I understand each other. 

I have my guilty pleasures, fragrance-wise. I own and wear some things I probably shouldn’t admit to publicly. Things like Coty Sand & Sable, yours for only $3.99 on the drugstore desperation display rack before the holidays (and locked behind glass in larger $18 bottles the rest of the year. Don’t over-apply or you’ll be heading for the shower quicker than you can say Walgreens.) It’s like Bobbi Brown Beach, only better — suntan oil, surf, sand, heat, musk and boardwalk in a bottle, without Bobbi’s off-putting hairspray note. I’m also fond of Coty Wild Woods, online for $10 or less, a woody unisex cologne that smells much, much more expensive. Just do what Colombina the Terrible and I do and call it “Bois Sauvage.” I liked some of those Gap scents (yuzu, peony, orange blossom) but I guess nobody else did, because they were discontinued pretty quickly.

So today I’m going to fess up about another embarrassing fragrance I’m loving: Doulton by Royal Doulton. Yes, that’s Royal Doulton of the wretched porcelain milkmaids. I hate tchotchkes in general, and the ones from Royal Doulton make Lladro look edgy. I wound up with a bottle of Doulton because I thought I was buying an empty perfume atomizer at a church bazaar for a dollar – and come on, it’s a pretty bottle, admit it. I could only see the top part, though, in the box. I didn’t realize it already had a fragrance in it.

Still, I had to spray it on immediately, a potentially dangerous move since I was away from home and any quick fragrance removal products. My money was on something insipid in either a musk variety or possibly a gag-inducing white floral, since the design seemed too dated for the more au courant gag-inducing fruity-florals.

The notes online on this one are (surprise, surprise!) basically non-existent: I came up with “Launched by the design house of Royal Doulton in 1998, DOULTON EDP by Royal Doulton is classified as a flowery fragrance. This feminine scent posesses a blend of: soft spicy notes of orange flowers and sparkling aldehydes. It is recommended for casual wear.” – fragrancesupplier.com

So. It’s an orange blossom. But what I love about it is – whoa ho! – it’s pleasantly dirty. I didn’t have a fragrance that really played up the indolic potential of the orange blossom until I found this one. I have some tolerance for the soapy aspect that frequently rears its head in orange fragrances (hello, LT Fiori d’Arancio!) but it’s completely absent here. Instead it’s a straightforward, minimal-development orange blossom with a hint of some other slightly rotten fruit, and a rich, moderately skanky finish. It’s also, interestingly, somehow wearable in this heat, although I wouldn’t describe it as light. Sure, it sounds disgusting. And if you like your summer fragrances clean, skip this one. But if you’re a naughty girl (or boy) this might be just your thing.

Today’s giveaway (did anyone read this far?) is another partial bottle — of Givenchy Ysatis Iris (Mandarin, Jasmine, Rose, Violet, Iris, Tuberose, Patchouli, Vanilla). It’s a beautiful, summery fragrance without any detectable skank. If you win I’ll throw in a sample vile (uh, vial) of Doulton if you’d like. Anyway, if you want the Ysatis, leave a comment below letting me know.

Any guilty perfume pleasures you’re willing to admit to?

The absolutely wonderful, efficient and amazing Vijay at Suravi Online included lots of great samples in my last order of Montale, and two of them were Dia and Gold from Amouage.

This is a line I had heard about for a long time and had wanted to try since I first saw that bottle. To…die…for.  Dia is billed as a day perfume, where its sister, Gold, is definitely an evening perfume. Trying ever so gently NOT to be biased by that gorgeous bottle, Dia has notes of Aldehydes, Cyclamen, Bergamot Calabria, Violet leaves, Fig, Sage, Tarragon. Heart Notes: Bush Peach Blossoms, Rose Oil Turkey, Orange Flower, Peony, Orris. Base: Gaiac Wood, Cedarwood, Sandalwood, Incense, Vanilla, Heliotrope, White Musk. That’s a lotta ingredients, y’all.

When it first goes on, it is way too big on me, too rich, too – just too.  One commenter said that this smelled like a trophy wife perfume.   Ayup, that’s my first impression as well.   As it dried down, the big floral part of it gives way to the base of gaiac wood, cedarwood, sandalwood, incense and musk. The drydown is very much more to my liking, woody and incensey, with the floral bouquet providing a thin gossamer cover to it. It isn’t heavy at all, and I revised my opinion on it being too much — it’s pretty much just right. This can be worn during the day, but give it about an hour or two to settle in before you head out the door. Now, it is uber-expensive, and this constrains me from getting a full bottle at present, but if you love stunning perfume bottles and care not how much you spend on perfume, this is a terrific perfume in the drydown, and I’d buy it in a second if cost were of no concern. 

Gold by Amouage, on the other hand, is a Perfume of the Night. One little tiny spritz on my shoulder, and this perfume blooms big and gloriously rich.  Not a trophy wife, this is the real deal – old money, boarding schools in Switzerland, furs, diamond cocktail rings, organizing sales of artwork for the Museum and Bentleys lined up in the driveway.  Top notes of rock rose, lily of the valley, silver frankincense.  Heart notes of myrrh, orris, jasmine. Base notes of ambergris, civet, musk, cedarwood and sandalwood.  The civet, musk and woods keep this thing from being too garish – it is earthy and rich and suitable only for night and your best dress, and get a fur or a fake fur to go with it and white gloves, for pete’s sake, but the garters or a lacy thong will feel right at home in Gold’s company.

Given that my idea of an evening out is a new rental from Netflix, I think I’d never have anywhere to wear this, but for those that have lots of ritzy evenings and need a perfume that smells like Old Money, this is it. In your high end perfume, it’s a better bargain than most. One spritz will take you through an entire night and keep you company at a late brunch.   

Now y’all can start throwing stones. Yes, they are high priced, but I’ve never been averse to paying a stupid amount of money for a perfume that I want and love. Nothing can replace the experience of opening a package all the way from Guerlain in Paris, pulling out the samples, the pretty bee bottle, or opening that gorgeous and simple crystal Caron bottle with the stopper.

The Amouages are high octane like Patou 1000 is high octane.  They also fit what they are designed to be quite well — a perfume experience in an exquisite bottle that smells rich and luxurious.  

Awhile ago, Luca Turin did this great post on which 10 fragrances he’d grab to take with him on the rescue spaceship (or whatever) right before the Earth was destroyed by a giant meteor. Maybe there’ll be a swap program on the planet you’re going to, but the idea was these were the scents you couldn’t live without, knowing that they might have to tide you over for the rest of your life.

I nosed around in my closet recently and came up with my list, which, okay, you’ll notice contains 12 scents. You’ll also be shocked, shocked to see that it contains several Guerlains. Oh, well. There were fragrances I’m still debating — 100% Love, Ormonde Jayne Sampaquita, and Musc Ravageur spring to mind immediately — but at some point I needed to quit fiddling and pack my bags.

1. Guerlain Mitsouko – my first weird love. My first Guerlain. My introduction into the whole wide world of fragrance addiction.
2. Guerlain Jicky – weirder, in my opinion, than Mitsouko. Citrus and civet. Love it or hate it. When I wear the parfum, I Am The Queen.
3. L’Artisan Tea for Two – my ultimate winter comfort scent when it’s rainy and crappy and I need that leather armchair, lapsang tea smell. Heaven.
4. Annick Goutal Petite Cherie – yeah, it turns rancid. It smells like pears on me. It’s perfect. As far as I’m concerned, she made this one for me.
5. Annick Goutal Mandragore – grapefruit and bergamot. What is not to love?
6. Guerlain Philtre d’Amour – I paid some stupid money for the 1999 version. I don’t care. One of the very few fragrances I said: cost be damned, you’re mine.
7. Desprez Bal a Versailles – go ahead, I dare you. Buy one of those dinky bottles on eBay for eight bucks (make sure it’s at least the EDP). Pour some on. Oh, how sweet! Sort of a Necco-candy smell and … and … what in the HELL is THAT?!?! An incense base so dark, dirty and delicious it should be illegal. I laugh out loud in pure pleasure every single time. This stuff is insane.
8. Guerlain Apres L’Ondee – I wept with joy the first time I smelled it. I’ll let you in on a little secret – I like the EDT better than the parfum. Yes, it’s gone in 30 minutes but, oh! that dazzle, like a sparkler on a summer night.
9. L’Artisan Tilleuls au Vent – linden, tea, liquid sunshine. This one should be called “Joy.� If it doesn’t brighten your day, nothing will.
10. L’Artisan Passage d’Enfer – to layer with other stuff. To wear on its own. To freshen a room. To wear when nothing else will do.
11. Armani Prive Bois d’Encens – I took awhile to appreciate this one. It is a stark, cold, uncompromising incense. It … frightened me. I love incense probably more than any other single note in winter, and this one is magnificent.
12. Malle En Passant – yeah, yeah, I know – the lilac, the bread, the cucumber, the rain … if you are tired of reading about it but still haven’t smelled it, buy a decant already. Make sure it’s an atomizer. Spray it on. Walk the walk. I have smelled this a hundred times or more and, like my four-year-olds, I never, ever get tired of the story.

What would your list be?

The winner of last week’s Oilily Papillon drawing was… Karen! Email me your address via the Contact Us button at left.

image of meteor strike: www.batse.msfc.nasa.gov

Lord, it’s rainy in Houston. 

Whenever I travel, there is the inevitable process of picking out what fragrances to take with me.  Ever since an unfortunate baggage handling incident on a trip to Sanibel with an almost full bottle of Eau de Merveilles which I had purchased for full price at Neiman-Marcus — purchased before I believed discount perfumers on the internet were actually selling the same, exact perfume — I now carry just decants or minis.  But which ones to take?

 This trip to Houston I started musing about it as I was doing my usual last-minute pack-and-run to the airport, wondering what significance my picks might have. Finally I decided not much except they were my favorite of the week or already in a decant.  Just FWIW, here’s what I brought with me, and please ignore that I’m only staying two days and am taking this many perfumes — it’s a little embarrassing:

• Rose Ikebana
• Vetiver Tonka
• Delices
• Caron Montaigne
• Spritzed on the absolutely stunning Mille et Une Roses for the plane trip (this one has great sillage and keeps me sniffing happily for hours and hours, it just sticks, but isn’t too loud)

Then I cheated and threw in the whole  box of the Parfumerie Generale second chapter set of samples.  What?!?!  I needed something to write about, and I’ve already waxed as poetic as is possible about the ones I wanted to take with me.  Without fail, though, for the last many months, Rose Ikebana and Vetiver Tonka almost always come with me whenever I travel.  They are light enough to wear in groups, they give me some propping up when I have to speak to large groups — and I hate public speaking with a forlorn passion, and more so on this trip since I can’t even get some general information about what to expect, the size of the audience — 50 or 300? — the questions our panel will be getting (and at least one of the other people on the panel hates me and has refused to speak to me for about ten years), if we are to do a longer speech before questions, if my handouts are appropriate for what they want us to talk about, I’m beyond miffed and toying with the idea of boycotting until someone responds to my requests, and this is why I hate public speaking! 

Deep cleansing breaths.

Now that I have some time in the hotel, I spritzed on Parfumerie Generale Ilang Ivohibe, a woody floral vanilla.  Notes of Madagascan ylang-ylang, California orange (as opposed to what? huh? Sorry, snarky habits die hard) and Egyptian jasmine, and I’m omitting the rest of the drivel, which really isn’t all that bad compared to some of the PG descriptions I’ve read.  This is one I like a lot from this line, tart in the beginning, drying down to a creamy vanilla, some note in the middle is not good for me, but once I get past that, the drydown is really gorgeous, creamy and smokey goodness.

On my other arm went Jardins de Kerylos, a woody green musk, with notes of fresh figs and sycamore wood.  I like fig generally, but have always found most fig perfumes to be too sweet (i.e. L’Artisan’s Premier Figuer). This one remedies that, the woody notes keep it grounded and earthy.  I really do like this one quite a lot, probably the most likable for me of the four I have tested so far, but I keep wishing it had something else in it, but I can’t decide what exactly.  Anything I think of would make it less than what it is or more than what it should be. As an earthy fig perfume, it is excellent, and I’m still toying with whether I am in need of more.  I’m leaning to a yes on that just because it fits an empty hole in my perfume wardrobe.

What perfumes do you always pack to take with you when you travel?

They’ve announced the designers for Project Runway 3

and a new season starts July 12!

Oh, how I long for the dulcet tones of Tim Gunn, “Make it work,” “come on, people” and “Hmmm,” along with the finger on the lips and the furrowed brow. This cast is looking a little too attractive. You don’t suppose that this season may be more about what looks good on tv than on the odd characters with true genius intereacting with the lovable Tim Gunn every day?  I hope not. It was so fun to hate the characters like Santino and marvel at how Marla got on the show. 

And Heidi Klum and Seal are expecting another baby!  Such a cute couple.

What I found in my fragrance closet — Boucheron Jaipur Saphir.  A floral amber introduced in 1999, it has notes of peach, cardamom, tangerine, yuzu, magnolia, stephanotis, jasmine, heliotrope, karmir wood, amber, sandalwood, cinnamon wood, resin and vanilla. 

I got this one shortly after it came out and instantly fell in love, forsook all my other perfumes and cleaved only to this for about a month.  My sister smelled it and had the same reaction.  Putting it on again, after I had not worn it in so long, I remember why I fell in love with it.  It had a great beginning, sweet fruit and flowers just tumbling out of the bottle, but the drydown to the woody base is just lovely. It still remains one of my favorites, though in my head I think I thought it was better than it actually is?  Maybe my nose is changing or this bottle is ancient and lots a couple of notes.

Best and one of the most expensive pre-tan lotions is California Tan CT7.  Put this on before you head outdoors, spend 10 minutes in the rays, and it really does help move along your tan and keeps your skin soft and moisturized.  Now, I know I shouldn’t, but I skip the SPF since I only go out for my 10 minutes every other day. Yes, you can yell at me now, briefly, but only for three words, like “you idiot” or something.  The CT7 also smells unbelievably wonderful, I want someone to bottle that as a perfume. You can get it from the California Tan website for the outrageous price of $90 or at the place (and others, just google it) I linked above for $44 or so.  Available in plain or in bronzing accelerator.  Is it worth it?  Yeah, I think so.  It does work, and it puts a ton of vitamans and conditioners back in the skin.  Did I mention the smell? 

I had read Cait’s wonderful review of Dzing! some time back and kept thinking… circus scent?  

Yup, yuk, gag, okay. But when a bottle appeared on eBay for a great price, I snapped it up on a whim, to have something to laugh at when it turned into circus scat and peanuts on me.  From L’Artisan’s description:

“Possesses all of the distinguished fragrances of this wonderful universe: saddle leather, sawdust from the ring and the caramelised smell of candy. A perfume that reveals itself completely on the skin.”

Bois de Jasmin also has a great review of it here.  This is such a strange, addictive little scent, and it absolutely is the smell of the circus carnival.  Barnyard but Better.  An amalgam of smells that shouldn’t belong in a perfume or on a person that is, nevertheless, wearable and wonderful. Genius.

Much of my misspent youth played out at the carnival, walking down the midway in those lazy days of summer with the short shorts, flirting with the cute boys, holding hands, girly gossip and scary carnival rides — the ones we got sometimes used masking tape to hold the Octopus together, so the scary part was just hoping your Octopus arm did not go spinning off into the wheatfield – with the smells of the animals there for 4-H livestock judging and the rodeo wafting around, pink cotton candy tendrils swirling lazily.  Dzing! has animalic notes, the warm fuzzy ones, the sweat, like the smell you get when you nuzzle a horse’s neck after a ride.  This is Rat Money Smell at its best – innocent and without guile. 

I need to amend my Scents of Summer because somehow I forgot the Dzing! does have leather in it and is absolutely a wonderful Summer Scent.

There was a perfuming accident early this week, and I need help to (a) avoid it in the future or (b) know what to do should it happen again. My wonderful Guerlain Sous Le Vent bottle is the Vega style, the apothecary type round thing with a top on it that is glass on glass, and it has six sides to the glass lid, which makes it rough on the hands to turn, especailly small, stubby hands like mine. They are always hard to get open to begin with, but somehow the lid got a leetle wedged. I tried pliers, those big adjustable ones, first just on the top, then one on the lid and one on the bottom to hold it steady, and this thing did not budge, just made the whole bottle twirl around.  Well, I don’t have a lot of patience for this thing (approx 5 minutes), and I finally took the big pliers to it, broke the top and redecanted the remainder into 10 ml bottles (only about 25 ml left, so it wasn’t a lot that needed a new home, and the spillage from the redecant went all over me, and I smell soooooo good!).

Question then is, how do I prevent the wedging in the future on another bottle?  And if it does get wedged, is there a good way to get it loose?

We joined the Coutorture community a couple of weeks ago.  It is a great site that collects blog posts from the fashion, beauty and perfuming community.  A wonderful place to check daily for great writing and information and also to  find some wonderful new blogs.

And the winner for the drawing from last week is…. Twibbet! Just hit the Contact Us button over there on the left and send me you address and which samples you’d like, and I’ll get them out to you! 

Continuing my Chicago Smell-o-Rama:

In Nordstrom on Michigan Avenue we tried a number of the Amouage fragrances, which are known for their fine ingredients and high prices. They’re on the Great Wall of Fragrances, this big niche area off the general fragrance section, where they keep the niche/high-end product (although other things like Victor & Rolf’s F-Bomb are, inexplicably, in there next to the Guerlain). The SAs circle in droves on the floor but, for reasons we’re not clear on, pretty much won’t go in the Great Wall area; you’d think it had an electrified fence — which suited us fine. Anyway, sampling Amouage was fun for me, because I’ve tried a couple of dab-on samples but it’s not really the same. Well, if I’d taken better notes I could say which ones I tried (I believe Gold, Dia and Ciel – Ina might remember) and they were all … very expensive smelling, but as you can see I didn’t like any of them enough to actually write it down, which surprised me. They are, somehow, just not my thing.

Then Ina handed me a squat, homely bottle and said, here, try this, I think you’ll like it. And so I tried it, purely (sorry, Ina) out of politeness, because I was pretty sure there was nothing in that ugly little tub I’d fancy. And I was wrong. Because Jil Sander No. 4 EDP is – get ready – a Gold-Medal winner, and if you like florientals, do yourself a favor and try this one, because it’s … perfect. It is perfectly balanced. It’s floral, but not heady or cloying. It’s oriental, but not too spicy or challenging. It is rich and well-rounded, but not overpowering. My fragrance wardrobe is full of many special things that, in truth, I have to be in precisely the right mood for. Even my beloved Mitsouko has turned on me occasionally. Jil Sander No. 4 is a classic, beautifully worked scent that will never be wrong, but won’t bore you either, and that’s something I could use in the lineup. To my nose it smells just the tiniest bit amber-y, which is not my favorite note but works quite nicely here, prompting me to label this one a flamboriental. (Floramberental?) FWIW I looked it up on Basenotes, and every single review is positive, which I don’t see often, so I’m not alone in my affections on this one. (rose, geranium, plum, galbanum, violets, jasmine, rose, tuberose, heliotrope, ylang ylang, carnation, tarragon, myrrh, ambergris, oakmoss, vanilla, sandalwood, patchouli, musk).

The following day I took a stroll with my Chicago galfriend on Halstead Street in Lincoln Park, which has Fresh, Bluemercury and Endo-Exo Apothecary close to each other. In Endo-Exo I discovered that Norma Kamali has a fragrance line. The names are cutesy – Baby was meh, Olive You was – well, it smelled like olive oil. ‘nuff said. The Zagara was too sharp, and the Jazmine and the Tea were just okay. But… the Ceremony, a unisex woody incense, was a worthwhile discovery. There’s not much development – wood and incense and a little smoke are the whole story start to finish – but it had excellent lasting power and was rich without being too much for a warmish summer day, which is more than I can say for most of my incense fragrances. It’s stronger than Passage d’Enfer, but certainly lighter in spirit than, say, CdG Avignon or the Armani Prive. It’s distinctive enough to be worth trying on its own merits, if you love incense (and I do.)

At bluemercury we tried the Christiane Celle Calypso line. They were pretty enough, although not especially imaginative. The Mimosa, which is the signature scent, was probably my least favorite. The Jasmin I’d be writing a rave about right here, because it was indolic enough to smell deliciously dirty, but not enough to frighten anyone. However, it gets some sort of Reverse Genius award for disappearing entirely in, say, five minutes on my skin. Weird. I went back and re-sprayed. Same thing. You’d think something with that much skank out of the bottle might last to the point of overstaying its welcome. But no.

And finally, my Big Reversal – I’d ragged a little on the Donna Karan Essences recently, saying I needed the wenge (which the SA pronounced “wen-geeâ€? with a hard g, I wonder…) and labdanum, but the lavender and jasmine I could live without. Well, I can’t live without the Jasmine, which isn’t really indolic enough but, Lord, it is lovely. Again, this illustrates perfectly the fatal flaw in sampling from vials – dabbing these on is nothing like spraying them with an atomizer. The three layered together are The Bomb (the SA asserted that was Donna’s favorite combo). You can still keep the lavender, which is something I prefer to smell on my bed linens and in my garden. FWIW, I am not about to pay $165 per bottle for these. I bought a 4-pack sampler on eBay for $12 and I’m perfectly happy. I did re-sample Black Cashmere, and if you’d like the best of what the Essences has to offer, maybe that’s your cheap ticket — a wildly underrated fragrance, in my opinion, although a bit much for summer in my neck of the woods.

So. It’s hot as heck here, and I need to clear some more stuff off my shelves. Today’s giveaway is Oilily Papillon – look how cute that bottle is! It’s light, not overly sweet, and perfect for sultry summer weather, and I’m giving away a mostly full bottle. Notes are roses, white lilies, tart cherry. Be advised: it has a note that smells rather pear-ish to me, like AG Petite Cherie. If the mere thought makes you dry-heave, take a pass on this one. Otherwise leave a comment below that you want the bottle, and I’ll enter you in the drawing.

 

These are just a few of our favorite scents of summer: 

These are just a few of our favorite scents of summer: 

Fave summer floral

March picks Guerlain Meteorites. We both agree on Annick Goutal Petite Cherie, L’artisan Tilleuls au Vent (room spray, who knew, it rocks) and Ormonde Jayne Sampaquita.  Patty picks Ormonde Jayne Frangipani Absolute and L’Artisan Fleur D’Oranger and…and…. criminy, I have a hundred.   

Fave summer citrus

March picks Floris Summer Limes, Santa Maria Novella Zagara and Guerlain Fleurs de Cedrat. We both agree on Santa Maria Novella Eva. Patty picks 06130 Yuzu Rouge.

Fave summer amber 

March picks nothing here, too damn hot. Patty picks Boucheron Jaipur.

Fave summer green

March picks Annick Goutal Mandragore. We both agree on Bvlgari the Vert.  Patty picks Gobin Daude Sous le Buis

Fave summer spices 

March picks YSL Opium Fleur Imperial and Malle Noir Epices (just a teensy dab). Patty agrees on nothing here because she won’t wear spice in the summer.

Fave summer leather

March says not in my climate, honey.  Patty picks any of them as long as it’s a leathery-smelling cabana boy fanning me by an ocean.

Fave summer gourmand 

March picks Etro Anice and Caswell & Massey Cucumber (so sue me). We both agree on Bvlgari Au the Blanc and L’Artisan Fleur de Carotte.  Patty picks Delices de Cartier.

Fave summer musk

March has no pick and much ewwing and gagging thinking about musk in summer. Patty picks L’Artisan Mure et Musc Extreme and Gucci EDP.

Fave summer incense

March picks Santa Maria Novella Citta di Kyoto.  We both agree on Passage D’Enfer. Patty picks Armani Bois D’Encens because it’s one incense that is better in the heat.

We also both would like to nominate L’Artisan Tea for Two as a staple for summer weather.

Summer Scent Favorites will be popping up this week at other blogs!

Aromascope .  Legerdenz .  Perfume Critic .  Perfume-Smellin’ Things .  Scented Salamander .  Scentzilla .  Victoria’s Own

 

What are your favorite Scents of Summer?

 

My father died almost ten years ago, and he took up so much space in my life and all the lives around him, we all just felt like we had a gaping hole next to us where he was supposed to be. Even after ten years, I have an ache when I think of him, wishing I could see his infectious smile or hear his booming laugh just one more time. 

After my dad died, mom had two weird encounters that we had to attribute to his sliding a message back through from the other side.  First was for about 30 days right after he died, the electric meter stopped. He always complained loudly about the theives at the electric company, especially during the winter (and this was in January), and then just as suddenly as it stopped, the electric meter started whirring ’round again.  The other incident was odder.  About two weeks after his death, my mom was sitting in the living room one night and looked up at the ceiling, and there was this great big brown watermark on it from leaking.  She made a mental note to pick up some patching materials and find that leak on the roof.  She fixed the leak, and that next night she looked back up at the ceiling, and that great big brown water mark was completely gone. It was never there.

Knowing my Dad, if he were given a couple of things he could do to let us know he was all right on the other side life’s great divide, these are the two things he would pick, both of them directed at looking out for my mom, his bride, the woman he loved with a passion for 40+ years and apparently beyond. 

I had a million other reasons to love him, but adoring my mother was the thing that made him 100 feet tall in my eyes.

 Happy Father’s Day, daddy, wherever you are.

 

You guys slay me. I am … well, I’m just touched. Thank you.

So here’s the favorite chocolate cake Chez Marchlion, which we made today. It’s called Chocolate Dump-It cake, and its chief advantages are ease and deliciousness. It is a rich, moist, very chocolate-y cake. The original recipe is from the New York Times.

Chocolate Dump-It Cake

1 cup milk
1 tsp cider vinegar
2 cups sugar
4 squares unsweetened chocolate
1 stick butter
1 cup water
2 cups flour
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix the milk and the vinegar in a small bowl and set aside to curdle (urp.)

Put the sugar, chocolate, butter and water in a big pot on the stove and stir until the chocolate is melted. Let it cool a little. Dump in the rest of the stuff, stirring it in. Add the curdled milk. Mix with a whisk or an electric mixer.

Bake in a greased, floured Bundt pan for 30 – 35 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes before removing from pan.

Note: I have made this with the emergency unsweetened Hershey’s cocoa and oil (instructions on the back of the Hershey’s cocoa box) and it is just dandy. If you do that, all you need to melt is the butter, and use 1/2 cup of water.

It’s moist enough I like it plain, or dusted with powdered sugar. If you want to gild the lily, you can add some buttercream frosting.

Aromascope, Legerdenz, Perfume Critic, Perfume-Smellin’ Things, Scented Salamander, Scentzilla, Victoria’s Own will be reviewing their favorite Scents of Summer next week.

 

Photo from art.com, provided by Aromascope

Wish her a happy birthday, ‘kay?  Don’t tell her I told you.

Probably not going to be a totally trashy Friday, all the babies in the celebrity world make me yawn. I love babies, and I wish all the new parents the very best, but I really detest the fuss they make over babies of celebrities. They didn’t do anything special, and too many babies  and children go through the day not knowing if anyone in the world loves them. Though I’ve got to say this report of TomKat already planning for baby No. 2 makes me oogie a little.

I’m not buying any magazine this week with celebrity babies in it as my protest, and I’m sending an extra few bucks to Modest Needs instead.  And I wish they’d stop with the baby issues soon so I can go back to my favorite shameful indulgence.  Let me just do my pitch for my favorite charity. I believe often the charity that helps the most is the smallest, the little things, the things that people need that will just tide them over a tough patch and keep them in their home, get them their medication for that week or a piece of medical equipment for their kid. My parents were always great for giving us the pinch hit when we needed it, but a lot of people in the world don’t have family or friends that can or will help them.

That’s what Modest Needs does. They take applications for the small things that people need — $150 to make up the difference in the mortgage payment because one of the parents was off work for too many days that month with pneumonia, the $60 for a prescription that ’s so needed, but paying for that will put them way short on groceries for the week, $87 for the light bill.  Most people can manage their life pretty well most of the time, but live so close to the edge that having an unexpected expense or loss of a couple of days work may mean they are out of their home. It is the smallest acts of love and help of individuals that sometimes make the biggest difference.

 

Got a sample of Montale Black Oud in my Caron decant order because it just sounds so deliciously dark. It goes on pretty medicinal, but that don’t scare me none, I love Tubeurese Criminelle’s pungent open like I love my own children.  Give the Oud a few minutes, and the oudishness starts seeping out past the medicinal smell, and the black one is just rich and dark. If you aren’t a fan of ouds, you will hate this with a passion. If you like the ouds, then you should love all the oudishness in this.  There’s some rose hidden in there that you do get in the drydown, but it’s a rose on fire and smoldering smoky hot in the embers.  Throw in some leather and sandalwood on this one, and it’s a dark perfume to love.  I’m still not sure I’ll ever wear it, but, lord, I do love to sniff it, so I’m sure spritzing it wildly about isn’t far behind. If Aomassai was a kegger in the woods, Black Oud is falling in the bonfire with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of Wild Turkey in the other.  Please don’t let me buy my own bottle, ‘kay?  If you are inclined to get a bottle, Suravi Online has it at a great discount. 

The next Parfumerie Generale I sniffed from the sampler pack is one I weep when I contemplate putting on again, but I have to just to refresh and confirm my first impression.  Iris Taizo is an Iris Woody Balsamic, which sounds like something I would adore, so I was quite anxious to sniff it. Notes of Guatemalan cardamom, iris, jinkoh wood, fig-tree honey and precious unguents infused with the warmth of the sun.  Go on, please. So we laid the ingredients out to dry to infuse them with the sun warmth?   When I first put this on –and I need to type quick because I haven’t got much time before I have to go scrub it off – it smells wonderful!!!  Iris is out in the woods and happy and a little dark, but just soaring.  Then that damn honey pours over the iris, and the iris, she wilts and gets smothered, and there is no reviving the joy for me.  Now, at a distance and objectively, I can be okay with this perfume, but on me, smelling it for more than 15-20 minutes, I feel like I just got shut in a room full of snakes – either me or the snakes on my arm have to go.  Okay, be back in a sec, my time has run out on this one, needs scrubbing, that’s all I can smell now. (Note: even scrubbing does not get this off completely. It took a thorough spritzing of Bvlgari Au the Blanc to make me breathe easy again).

New favorite room spray — Geodesis Black Tea, available here. Right now the whole Geodesis line is making me happy.

Giveaway for this week will be two samples from any of the Hermessence or Hermes perfumes that I’ve got.  I have all but the Poivre Samarkande of the Hermessences, (Rose Ikebana, Osmanthe Yunnan, Vetiver Tonka and Ambre Narguile) or from the regular line - Eau de Merveilles, Hiris, Un jardin Sur le Nil, Un Jardin Mediterannee, 24 Faubourg, Bel Ami or Rocabar (Miss March’s brief review had me hitting the “buy” button).  If you want to be entered in the drawing, just drop a note in comments with a smiley face at the bottom of the comment.

I love Chicago. If I go to heaven, it’ll look something like the perfume section of all the stores I visited last week on and off Michigan Avenue, including Nordstrom, Saks, NM, Barneys, C. O. Bigelow, Sephora, Hermes, Bluemercury, Lalique … you get the idea.

This was also a special trip for me because it was the first time I had the chance to spend an entire day sniffing with another fragrance lover – Ina from Aromascope – rather than my typical solo ventures. As much fun as solo sniffage is, sniffing with a compadre is even better – we could laugh, compare notes, sneer, gab with SAs, etc. Ina has, as we used to say in Santa Fe, a “great vibeâ€? — she’s as lovely, funny, smart and well-spoken as you’d guess from her blog.

So I’ve perused my notes, and I’ve decided that anyone else reading them would conclude that they were jotted by a happy maniac – they have that addled, opaque enthusiasm, but maybe it was all the fragrance alcohol getting to my brain. Anyway, in as much order as I can muster, here are some thoughts, highlights, and winners:

I found my Carons. Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows how poorly Caron and I get along. Turned out I just needed to cross the border into the men’s department – L’Anarchiste (Orange Blossom, Mandarin, Leaves, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Cedarwood, Musk) and Third Man (Le 3me Homme — Lavender, Rosemary, Anise, Bergamot, Geranium, Jasmin, Rose, Fern, Carnation, Amber, Musk, Moss, Cedarwood, Patchouli, Tonka, Vanilla) were both just stunning. Le 3me Homme was sharper at the top, probably the lavender and herbs – shocking but not unpleasant, drying down into dark woody/musky wonderment. L’Anarchiste I am incapable of describing other than weirdly sexy, a musky, dirty skin scent. So there. I am now unsure whether it’s the ladies’ Caron base I hate, and these were built differently, or maybe I actually like the Caron base, just without all the frills.

Lalique. I had never smelled any of them, but visited the Lalique boutique. Considering the other goods the boutique is carrying, the fragrances are quite reasonably priced ($67 for the EDT). I found the original Lalique for women (Chinese gardenia, Sicilian mandarin, blackberry, magnolia, Tunisian orange blossom, peony, Bulgarian rose, ylang-ylang, vanilla, cedarwood, sandalwood, Tibetan musk, amber, oakmoss) very pretty but a bit, uh, baroque – a very ornate floral, quite nice if you like a lot going on. The Eau de Lalique is a green unisex (Mandarin, Cardamom, Citron, Bergamot, Dill, Freesia, Hibiscus, Cinnamon, Amyris Wood, Sandalwood, Benzoin, White Musk, Guaiac wood) and quite lovely but gone too quickly on me. The Flora Bella (Mandarin, Bergamot, Baie Rose, Daphne Flower, Frangipani Blossom, Vanilla, Sweet Almond, Amber, Vanilla, White Musk) is a fresh white flower and almond confection, and whatever went on in the drydown was even more endearing.

Comme de Garcons. At Barneys I smelled the supremely weird 2, 3 and White, and no, I can’t describe any of them, and I wouldn’t recommend buying them unsniffed, but they’re not dull, are they? I finally got to smell the entire longed-for Incense series – okay, Avignon was empty, it’s apparently the most popular, but I’ve already smelled (and loved) that one. A must-try for incense lovers. My favorites: Zagorsk and Oarzazate (go ahead, try to say it) but I’d take any or all of them, gladly.

Hermes – what a pleasure it was to try all the Hermessences in a row. (News Flash: Vetiver Tonka is still my nemesis.) My favorite, I have decided, is Rose Ikebana – a rose of such ethereal delicacy even a non-rose fan like me can swoon. Then we got the friendly SA to Dig Around in the Secret Hermes Drawer and produce: Amazone, a green, unisex oddity that made me think of both iris and bamboo; and Doblis, the hideously expensive LE which is, I guess, a leathery chypre? It combines the elegant glove-leather of Hermes with a soft powdery floral into a vaguely Mitsouko-esque deal, but it dries down a little off. Honestly, it was pretty in an interesting way, but the earth didn’t come anywhere close to moving, and at its price point ($600?) I ought to be screaming like Meg Ryan in whatchamacallit … moving on, in my quest for a sexy men’s skin fragrance for the Big Cheese I tried Bel Ami, which was sharp citrus and good; Equipage, a leathery, balsam-y carnation which was even better; and my new love – Rocabar, which I’m still scratching my head over because the notes sound like wood-chip hell in a bottle (Juniper Berry, Cedar Needles, Lavender, Nutmeg, Cinnamon, Cypress, Atlas Cedar, Virginia Cedar, Basalm, Vanilla) – I mean, ugh, cedar is a complete train wreck on my skin. But this was a winner. Elegant on my skin, and the scent lingering hours later on my sweater made my knees weak with desire. My only sadness was that the Secret Hermes Drawer did not include samples. Rocabar was delicious, and much more arousing of the senses than anything at…

Marilyn Miglin. Of Pheromone fame. How does this place stay in business? No, seriously. It’s awful. All of it. Maybe the shop is some sort of front for mob money? I sniffed through the whole gamut (okay, as much as I could stand), including the new collection of 7 Deadly Scents … no, that’s not right, it’s the Seven Sacred Oils. How were they? God, they were just crap. The 7 Sinful Scents at Sephora are crap too, but at least they’re cheap.

Diptyque Eau de Lierre – meh. Smells like, I don’t know, ivy? It’s green. It’s barely there. Olivia Giacobetti, did they fail to follow your instructions? I love your light hand, but where’s the rest of it, girlfriend? It makes me long for Diptyque’s most vile and offensive fragrances, two of which I own and (urp) wear. No, not that damn vinegar one. The other two vile ones.

L’Artisan Fou d’Absinthe – knocked me on my fanny. You know what? Fragrances like this are why I love L’Artisan. With a couple of exceptions, you may love them or hate them, but they are not boring or insipid. I will never improve on Bois de Jasmin’s elegant review of this. Absinthe is too pugnacious for me – but it really is wonderful. Fans of green meanies like Vent Vert and nightclub lunacies like Velvet Rope and VIP Room should give it a whirl.

Tired? Need a rest? Stop at Sarah’s Pastries and Candies, at 11 East Oak Street (I think we were near Barneys, this link goes to their online store — danger, danger!). I know a thing or three about sweets, and this place is Nirvana. Tastes homemade, but only if Mom was a really, really good baker, or maybe a pastry chef. Have the black and white cupcake, you’ll thank me. Buy some of their candy for later — those milk chocolate Royaltines are unbelievable.

Okay, that’s it for this post. Stay tuned for: Chicago: Part Deux, in which I reveal My New Undiscovered Incense, do a big, fat backpedal on something I ragged previously, stumble across a designer frag I just lurve, and take a sniffage stroll in Lincoln Park …

credits: fragrance notes, basenotes.net; cupcakes, Sarahscandies.com

Winner for last week’s Guerlain (or some other choice of Guerlain or Frederic Malle samples) is BBLISS!!!  Hit the Contact us button over there on the left and send me your address and let me know which two you want. 

 

 

Aomassai, an oriental Woody bitter.  The promotional bit:

“Redolent of many-coloured wood, inspired by Southern Africa and the art of the Baoule tribe, with a surprising fusion of tangy and luscious notes in the heat of a ritual flame… A fiery breath of caramel and toasted hazelnuts, enriched with spices, fans the flames of vetiver, balsam wood and bitter orange.  Bewitching spirals of incense, mingled with liquorice, surround a blazing core of fragrant Wengue wood, dried grasses and resin.”

Huh.  Patty’s briefer ad copy: “I’ve been crawling through a muddy forest after a night of jumping over the bonfire at a kegger.”  (Not that I have any personal experience with that) But I really do NOT mean that in a bad way. This is woody goodness. I don’t get much of the caramel and toasted hazelnuts throughout, though I get a little whiff of that in the early notes. It’s just roots and wood and twig and leaves, and it is an addictive little thing.  Do I love it? Yes, yes, I do think I do!  I’m going to give it a run of the man-units in the house and see what they think (oh, no, no go there, it’s all MINE!!!).  You can get this at the Parfumerie Generale website for 75 Euros for a 50 ml bottle or 125 Euros for a 100 ml bottle.

After I crawled through the forest and was scraping the mud from my shoes and picking the leaves from my teeth, I saw a beautiful store on the lake with the sun setting behind it (well, it was a street and maybe a fountain instead of a lake), and that store was Caron Montaigne.  Launched in 1986, with notes of mandarin, bitter orange, cassis, jasmine, narcissus and mimosa, spices and vanilla, she is elegant and perfect.  If you do not like that Caron base, this is probably the least Caronish base of the Carons and may work, and it really is exceptional. Now I just have to patiently drum my fingers until Caron has its sale, hopefully soon, except this looks like it is only available in Paris?  No!  Cuuuurap, I don’t speak French, I can’t go to Paris!  I got my decant from the always wonderful Diane at Dragonfly Scent Me, who carries all of the Carons, I believe.

What shall we give away this week? Suggestions in the comments, please.

I just got back from Chicago, with tons of notes, some samples and a day of excellent sniffage with Ina of Aromascope. But that post isn’t ready yet, so instead I’m going to tell a little story …

I ordered (among other things) two climbing roses from Heirloom Roses last spring. Heirloom sells old, hardy and unusual roses, including some highly fragrant ones. I chose Summer Wine (pictured here from their website) because they were beautiful, highly rated for their perfume, and because they’re continuous bloomers. I planned to plant one on either side of the steps of our screened back porch, so that their glory and fragrance would be nearby for most of the summer.

I am probably not the first person to open the shipping box when it arrives, revealing puny, 6-inch sticks, and think, puh-lease. It’ll be two years before those babies are big enough to climb onto anything. After all, I learned to garden in the high desert of the Southwest, where a lack of moisture guarantees plants that grow a lot more slowly. So I dutifully followed the meticulous planting instructions, dug giant holes (in my case, with a pickaxe and a lot of cursing), planted them in good organic material, and then more or less forgot about them except for the occasional watering.

I got the first inkling of the flaw in my thinking in April, when Number One Son came in shrieking with a huge rose thorn broken off in the sole of his foot (and what a slice of heaven that was to remove, let me tell you.) At that point it was hard to miss the fact that the climbers had shot themselves, oh, eight feet skyward, and then, having discovered that the Gardening Slag failed to give them anything to climb onto, flopped over unceremoniously onto the lawn, where they were making plans to extend their empire into the neighbors’ yard.

It was clear to me that the two adorable fan trellises I’d bought for them were not going to do the job staked into the ground. So I came up with the genius plan to mount the trellises off the ground, bolted to the back porch in an elevated position. Of course, the only tiny flaw in this plan was that I had to climb basically into the rose bushes to mount the trellises.

I started early in the morning, figuring I had an hour or two of hard work ahead of me. I put on my sturdy gardening gloves and my doofy garden togs (maximum sun coverage) and stupid hat, got out the wire, the brackets, the screws, etc., and dove in.

As the day wore on into the afternoon, I began to wish for something a little sturdier than my regular gardening outfit — something more along the lines of, say, the outfits worn by the French Riot Police, complete with helmet, face mask, mace and possibly a truncheon. I had to stop periodically to try, delicately, to disengage myself from countless thorns digging into me from various canes, to the point that I could no longer move. I’d suck the blood off various body parts and take deep cleansing breaths and remind myself that, really, this was a good idea and I shouldn’t cut those sumbitches right down to the ground and go have a beer instead.

After five hours, my efforts were rewarded. The canes, already heavily budding, were more or less subdued, twined upright in beautiful, arching bunches in the general vicinity of the trellises. I took a victory shower, dabbed my wounds, and had that beer, admiring my handiwork.

Now, several weeks later, they greet me every morning with a fresh display at eye-level when I come out with my coffee. I have no idea where they think they’re going, and at this rate they’ll eat the back of the house, and maybe a kid or two, but man, they are a sight to behold.

WARNING — this post will likely mention wimmin stuff.  If you are too delicate to read about things like menopause, wrinkles and menses, you should click that Back button now.

About a year ago, I started to experience the wonders of menopause. It’s all stop and start still, but it’s there, it’s happening, and I was horrified.  Mother Nature, that unrelenting bitch, was releasing the viney clutch of mommyhood pangs and replacing it with… what?  Those “I must reproduce again” attacks had been stepping up in intensity since I hit 40, and now it was just fading, more wistful regret that my active mommy years were winding down than a real active drive to have more children.  That feeling was freeing and, well, frightening. What in the world would take the place of that hormone-driven freight train I’d been on since I was 13?  (Painting is by Judy Somerville, her Elderly People series)

Mother Nature plants a time bomb in you, set to go off between 40 and 60, and its detonation feels pretty catastrophic some days.  My metabolism has slowed to a crawl, a good night’s sleep is a memory, which is good because I can’t remember shit. So far I’ve avoided the biting anger (well, something beyond my normal snappishness) depression and hot flashes, but since I’m still technically perimenopausal, the best may be right around that corner marked Age 47. And I keep thinking I’m pretty young to be doing this since the average age of onset is 52, and I’ve got six more years yet — cheated! So now what?  (Painting is by Judy Benson, Mother Nature)

Part of me was thrilled.  That monthly visitor was not coming back, or at least was coming round with less frequency, but as annoying as that could be, I just wasn’t ready to get old in that way you have in your head. That picture at the top of the Old Woman and the Frog? That’s how I pictured old age to be. The dwindling of youth and the coming of my aunts’ wrinkly old knees, the faded, wilted flower that was left too long in the vase.  The sweet bloom of youth not only gone, but pretty much rotted into a stinking, putrid mess.

Cheerful?  Not, not really, and it is taking me a long time to come to terms with the larger meaning of it, that my life is now playing on the B side. 

How do I want to slide into the B Side of my life?  I’ve seen a lot of bad examples and some good ones.  There was a book I read years and years ago, and I wish I could recall the author or the name of the book so I could give correct attribution. It expressed the metaphor of the Old Fashioned being the perfect drink for a good life.  Bourbon, sugar and bitters — the richness of life, the sweet and the sorrow.  This is how I want my life’s shape – full of all that is rich and sweet, always tempered by the sorrow that is left when you have set down the worst of your grief by the side of the road because it has been too heavy to keep carrying. Careening ’round the corner to the end stretch, I shall be a well-lived-in shell with a whiskey voice and a loud laugh.

Now, an Old Fashioned generally has a little bit of fruit on top too, a cherry in particular, and somehow this all brings me to Delices de Cartier.  While in Neiman-Marcus months ago, I whiffed it, found the EDT to be nice enough, though too ordinary  The parfum was very rich and wonderful, but not something to buy at $160 for 1 measly ounce, so I did not dally long with it. Since then, I have obsessed about it, tossed and turned, swearing I would never pay that much for an ounce of perfume, but in the end a particularly good sale at Scentiments was what let me cave ($109 for the parfum!!! Woot!! ).

Notes of pink pepper, cherry, Sicilian bergamot, freesia, violet, pink, white and yellow jasmines, tonka bean, amber, sandalwood. If you don’t care for fruity perfumes generally, but might like one good one, the parfum of Delices could be the one. Disclaimer, I do generally like fruity florals, at least the ones done well. This goes on just a little tart and spicy, with the bergamot and pink pepper. You can smell the cherry behind the top notes, but barely when it first goes on.  As it dries down, the cherry comes out rich, shooting through all the floral notes, but never overtaking it or being too sweet or cloying. It is blended perfectly.  (Note: I’m a freak for tonka bean, this is clearly my perfume crack note that I’d huff on all day long if not taken from me, so remember that anything with tonka biases me in that crack whore kind of way).  It is the tonka, amber and sandalwood that fill this perfume out, coloring in the places between the lines, giving it character and depth, steering this perfume away from being just a flibbertygibbet fruity floral and make it perfection.  This is a perfume that has dragged the sweetness of its youth over and plays them on the B Side.

My menopausal craving for cherries in a perfume is sated.  Like the Old Fashioned, this has all the richness in it with the tonka and sandalwood, the sweetness of the jasmines, freesia and violet, the bitter of the bergamot and amber, and it is all topped off with a cherry floating through it. 

A great Old Fashioned recipe can be found here. 

Almost forgot the Banana Cake recipe. We made this this weekend and promptly inhaled it.  Just delicious.

Banana Cake

1 3/4 cups sifted cake flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon soda

1/2 cup shortening (I used butter)

1 1/2 cups sugar

2 eggs

1/4 cup buttermilk or soured milk

1 cup mashed bananas (2 or 3 bananas)

1 teaspoon vanilla

Sift flour once, measure and resift twice with the salt, baking powder and soda.  Cream shortening, ad