For anyone interested, Chandler Burr wrote a hilarious/fascinating article about civet in the style supplement to last Sunday’s New York Times, which contains an anecdote about civet cream that’s so disgusting I’m not even going to quote it here. He also reviewed three fragrances with civet: YSL Kouros (two stars for smelling like “a French trucker’s Jockey shorts”); Malle Musc Ravageur (three stars, “animalic yet crystalline… the body odor of a beautiful stranger”); and TDC’s Rose Poivree, which receives the rare and coveted five stars for smelling “mesmerizing … akin to breathing in the warm, slightly fetid breath of some immense, fur-covered animal.” I don’t always agree with Burr, but I think that’s a magnificent description of a fragrance I adore.
On to today’s topic:
Not long ago I posted my adventures in the land of honey, having discovered that Miel de Bois is actually wearable.
I got together a few more honey scents:
Ginestet Botrytis (notes: honey, candied fruits, quince, pain d´epice, white flowers). All I remember was something wine-y when I tried it a year or so ago, so I thought I´d retry it. I´m glad I did so at home, because it was the first honest-to-God run-to-the-sink scrubber I´ve had in some time. It starts off promising – a really amped-up honey with that furzy beeswax note – and then goes deeply, desperately wrong on me in some way I´m unwilling to revisit without therapy. Or possibly an exorcist. A combination of wine, mold and … ack, nooooooo. I felt repulsed by this the way some people feel repulsed by CB Musk. I had high hopes; my apologies to all of you who worship this scent.
Demeter Honey – My hopes for this were pretty low; I figured it would smell synthetic and/or too sweet, like honey-flavored jelly beans or something. I was delighted to find a pure honey-like note with just that perfect touch of pollen and beeswax to keep it from being dull. And it lasted for five hours on me, which I loved. Not cloying, not fakey, just rich golden honey with a tiny little dusting of pollen funkiness to keep things interesting. Perfect.
Santa Maria Novella Acqua di Cuba – honey and boyjuice. No, I am not insane; a couple other commenters got the same thing. I have no idea what the problem is, but our relationship is not going to work out.
Speziali Fiorentini Te Nero Body Mist – I´m sticking this in here because it´s a possible alternative for those of you who keep trying to love honey but hate that weird, waxy/furry part. The body mist starts off black tea and honey (very nice); then a suede note chimes in (still very nice); then the tea and the suede drop out and I´m pretty much left with honey – for several hours. And the stuff´s dirt cheap – maybe $20?
I’m off on a preschool field trip to the apple orchard this morning with Hecate and Buckethead; I’ll see you this afternoon.
Illustration from Slovenly Betsy, by Heinrich Hoffman, Illustrated by Walter Hayn, gutenburg.org