Today I weigh less than a shadow on the wall, just one more whisper of a voice unheard.

Scent Spotlight on EnVoyage Perfumes L’Emblem Rouge and Giveaway

Shelley Waddington, perfumer of the EnVoyage Perfumes lines, reached out to me recently with an intriguing new offering. Like any good 'fumie, I jumped at the chance to review it.

EnVoyage Perfumes L’Emblem Rouge is part of the Rubicon Collection. This 100% natural scent is a "Deep, Lightly Spiced Rose Soliflor" and is described as follows:

The many meanings that cluster around rose – friendship, passion, love – are fulfilled in L’Emblem Rouge. It incorporates the full scentual and spiritual significance of the rose. Sensual rose set in soft woods, balsam and amber. A modern classic with a timely message. 

Top Notes: Cassie, Mace, Cinnamon, Bitter Orange, Juicy Grapefruit, Green Pepper, Iranian galbanum, Violet, and Cistus Heart Notes: Organic Iranian Rose Otto, Ylang-Ylang, Heliotrope, French Jasmine sambac, Violet, and Honey Base Notes: Guaiacwood, Sandalwood, Copaiba, Vetiver, Cedarwood Virginia, Tolu Balsam, Benzoin Siam, Tonka, Vanilla and Ambergris.

Did anyone call for a spicy rose? Because here it is with emphasis on the woods and spices. I get a lot of wood in the opening, which is a new aspect of roses for me, and I've got a lot of roses. Tonka and cedarwood provide a strong, gently sweet base that comes immediately upon application and feels almost like a dry chocolate powder dusted over rose petals. After a few minutes I also get some bitter orange and grapefruit, which was a unique twist on spicy rose. Over time, L’Emblem Rouge becomes a gently sweet, slightly edible, spice mix with what feels like a rose base.  Despite being a soliflor, the rose here seems less the focus but more the lead partner in an intricate dance.

I tried it next to Teo Cabanel Oha, Juliette Has a Gun Lady Vengeance, DSH Perfumes Dirty Rose, DSH Perfumes Beach Roses, and DSH Perfumes American Beauty, and it was nothing like those . However, as I dug back through my bag of perfumey tricks, I did find a scent it reminded me of, and I think provides an interesting contrast - Tauer Perfumes Une Rose Chyree.

Une Rose Chypree, on me, is a hot sticky (but lovely) mess of cinnamon, labdanum, and patchouli. L’Emblem Rouge has more sweet foodie citrus and wood. "Lightly spiced" is a good description because the spice aspect is gentle and less aggressive than Une Rose Chypree. Now while I love and admire Une Rose Chypree as I do most Tauer Scents, the truth is the gentleness of L’Emblem Rouge makes it infinitely more wearable by the average person. It's a strong, bold, and yet surprisingly accessible scent. Given my choice between a bottle of the each, I would have a difficult time choosing, but think I'd probably go for L’Emblem Rouge.

For any one who has ever thought all naturals were weak and fleeting, lacking both the oomph and staying power of synthetics and mixed ingredient scents, I offer EnVoyage Perfumes L’Emblem Rouge as counter-exhibit A. Beautiful blooming on the skin, moderate to high sillage, and long lasting, L’Emblem Rouge is proof positive that all natural scents can have long lives; a dose from a wand sample lasted on me in excess of six hours, though it stayed relatively close to the skin after about three and a half. Still, in a sprayer? Probably a scent I'd still be catching hints of after a long day at work.

On the whole, I find L’Emblem Rouge artfully composed, and well worth a try. It can be found here.

A beautiful scent alone is a wonderful thing, but L’Emblem Rouge is particularly special because of the generosity of the fine folks at EnVoyage Perfumes. A lifetime gift of five percent of all L’Emblem Rouge proceeds are donated to Broadway Cares, a leading nonprofit AIDS fundraising and grant-making organization.

I am old enough to remember HIV/AIDS at the height of its prominence in terrorizing the American psyche. I came of age in the late 80s/early 90s, and I have crystal clear memories of the incredible effort put into educating my generation about safer sex practices. I am not HIV+, but I have known and cared greatly for people who were, a few of whom lost their lives to AIDS or AIDS-related complications.

Because of this personal connection, I am incredibly touched by Shelley's efforts. Any time I am having a bad day, it heartens me to be able to look around and think of all the kindnesses we do for one another that aren't necessarily required of us, kindnesses given freely to strangers who will never know us, who will perhaps never meet us, but whose lives are improved by the goodness inherent in our deeds. It is proof that human beings are probably capable of ending most of the strife and pain in the world if we can gather our collective will and marry it to our compassion and ingenuity. In this respect, we are truly and profoundly miraculous.

I can think of a lot of issues that need this kind of collective miracle, but the HIV crisis in Africa would be high on my list of problems that could be solved if we wanted. Yes, there are practical problems: trying to devise distribution chains for medication in remote locations; teaching people all across a continent from a panoply of cultures that are not slaves to time or regiment how to deal with a drug cocktail that requires a consistent routine; overcoming cultural barriers to learning preventative care and safer sex practices; even the basic difficulty of maintaining peace in order to make delivery of materials. These are just a few of the challenges.

Just looking at the meager list I have propounded, I acknowledge: it's a logistical nightmare of epic proportions. But so is the crisis. Too many people -- young and old, men, women, and children -- are dying every day from a disease that the western world has engineered out of terminal status and into a condition treated more as a chronic illness.

Those of us on top have this strange self-delusion that we will always be here. That unearned and unrealistic certainty has been called a lot of things in human history: manifest destiny, American exceptionalism, to name a couple. A good student of history realizes that the circumstances that make up the differences, though, could be reversed on us. Eventually, even Rome fell.  A significant earthquake along the West Coast, a biological agent released widely, or hell, a complete and extended lack of confidence in the market, could cripple an already limping country, and the hysteria and fear that followed could reduce our once great nation, frankly, to so much anarchic dust. In that circumstance, would we really want those with the ability to provide us aid and assistance in our darkest hour to decide that reaching out would be too logistically difficult to bother?

The concept of the veil of ignorance is a simple one: wherever souls come from, the part of you that is your consciousness was born into a particular time and place. That makes some of us inherently safer, healthier, and better off from the moment of inception by sheer dumb luck. That privilege isn't something that was earned, and it could have easily been someone else far less fortunate in your shoes and you in theirs. So imagine, for one moment, that just before your personal die was cast, you had the opportunity to distribute wealth and access and resources and education. Maybe you wouldn't make it exactly equal everywhere, but you'd probably at least ensure that the minimal needs of every person next to be born were met because you could not know which of those people would be you.

Americans are hard-working, but we are also lucky. We have innovated a lot of technology, particularly pharmaceutical advances. We owe it to those born into crippling poverty and resource inequality to meet the challenges that stand between them and basic necessities like food, clean water, shelter, safety, and health care. Not just in this country, but anywhere there are people in the world willing to accept it. I'm not saying we must force other cultures to conform to modernity or western thought to accomplish this; I'm not into naked paternalism or cultural colonization. I am saying, though, that we have a moral obligation to offer some of what we have and to assist those who need and want our help. And that we carry the burnt of that logistical weight, for surely their burden is already more than enough.

But enough politics and philosophy; back to the perfume.

Shelley Waddington has generously provided me a 1ml sample of  L’Emblem Rouge and a mini spray flacon of L’Eau de Emblem Rouge, the hydrosol distilled from the parfum reviewed above, to give away to one lucky winner. I'm adding a CD to the mix to entice you; and this won't be a one of the monthly mixes, but a specially made CD reflecting on the theme of the value and beauty of life and good health we so often take for granted.

Open to all readers anywhere. To enter please post below by: 12:01AM, Friday, September 23, 2011 Pacific Standard Time.

"Tomorrow leave the windows open
As fear grows please hold me in your arms
Won't you help me if you can to shake this anger
I need your gentle hands to keep me calm...
I can't believe you love me
I never thought you'd come
I guess I misjudged love
Between a father and his son.
- "The Last Song," Elton John

Ribbon image courtesy of freizeit.  Chart from the United Nations World Health Organization. Other images from creative commons.

And she was lying in the grass, and she could hear the highway breathing.

Scent Spotlight: Demeter Fragrance Libary Grass, also PRIZE DRAW and head-to-head scent delivery method comparison.

In case you missed it, we've been experiencing some technical difficulties here at Feminine Things, which are hopefully now resolved. Also, life has been crazy, with the moving twice and being short staffed at work. But enough about the bad; let's focus on the good in life. And in my world? That means the perfume.

I bring you a strange challenge today. I was talking on twitter to Victoria and Carrie (and I think Gaia as well) about Demeter Fragrance line. I love the CB I Hate Perfume line, and Demeter is Christopher Brosius' former employer. I had never tried Demeter scents and, given the low price point, asked what people thought before I went nuts about bought 10-15 of them unsniffed. The general response from the tubes – great scents but not terribly long lasting, better suited for room sprays than perfumes.

Considering my purchases and related powers of acquisition, I noticed in my dithering of do-I-or-don’t-I that Demeter added a perfume oil version available in a rollerball. Would a perfume oil last longer, as advertised, and fix the major criticism of the line? Or perhaps the alcohol based spray or splash was fine, but needed the spray-until-wet technique I learned from Mals at Muse in Wooden Shoes? Only one way to find out.

So I did exactly what any truly insane perfumista would do – bought the same scent twice in both forms.

Yes, that’s right. I couldn’t buy two different scents because I wouldn’t truly be able to tell if the scent lasted longer because it was stronger or I noticed it more or the method of scent delivery (oil roll on vs. alcohol spray) was the better choice. Nope, the only option was two buy two bottles of the same scent. I managed to pick up a 15ml cologne splash for $6 and the 8.8ml roll-on for $10, so for a whopping $16 plus shipping, I got my mad wish, though I admit that the entire over-the-top endeavor is probably inspired by my most recent Top Gear binge.

Random thoughts about grass...

After scrolling through the extensive list of Demeter scents and considering everything from Basil to Birthday Cake to Salt Air to Mulled Cider, I finally settled on, of all things, Demeter Grass. FN1. Yes, Grass. What can I say? It’s summer and I love a good freshly mowed lawn. The description, which is lengthy, is as follows:

Playing in it.......lying on it......or even mowing it....Grass smells wonderful. Centipede grass, the most widely used lawn grass in the southeast United States, has something of a romantic history. Around 1918, the U.S. Department of Agriculture sent a Dr. Meyer, a plant explorer, to China in search of plants that might be economically useful. Tragically, before his return home Chinese bandits killed Dr. Meyer. His suitcases arrived in the U.S. where a collection of seeds was found, including a packet of Chinese centipede grass seeds. That packet of seed was sent to a USDA experimental station near Savannah, Georgia. In the early 1920's, Jack Renfroe took four sprigs of the grass to his father, Mr. Riley Renfroe, who had a 400 acre farm near Quitman. Three of those sprigs survived and were planted in a pasture. In 1950, Ray Jensen, a soil scientist for the USDA, visited the Renfroe farm to make a soil survey. Although 96 years old, Mr. Riley Renfroe wanted to accompany Jensen on the survey. That evening the two settled down to a wonderful southern dinner and that is when the story of the centipede grass on the Renfroe farm was told. Ray Jensen had just finished building his home on 20th Street in Tifton, Georgia. Mr. Renfroe insisted he take a pickup load home with him for his yard, where Jensen planted all the grass. The following year Jensen contracted Mr. Renfroe to produce centipede seed from the 40 acre pasture he had developed from just three live sprigs of the Chinese grass. Ray Jensen had a vision to produce and sell this wonderful grass and seed and offer it as a foundation to southern homes and businesses. From China to Washington, DC, to Savannah to Quitman to Tifton, to the entire southeast and beyond, from one small packet of seed and three live sprigs, today centipede grass can be found on lawns and ornamental turf areas around the world. In Demeter’s Grass Pick-Me-Up Cologne, we have captured the freshness and sweetness of a lush green grass pasture, much like the pasture that Mr. Riley Renfroe planted with centipede grass from those three live springs over 80 years ago.

...contained in footnotes below.

First let’s talk about the scent. I grew up playing and lazying about on those fabled lawns of the American South and I know that smell, so familiar it plays on repeat in the memory of summer when I think about my life. As a ‘grass’ scent, let me say this – the scent itself is wonderful. It does smell like fresh cut grass, but less like the real deal spread between the fingers of your outstretched hand and more like an intense sculpture of grass, or like a wild Van Gogh-esque painting of fresh grass. It is a very sweet grass, and almost has a little bit of a soapy edge, but is really quite beautiful. My friend, Kate, said she thought it was more like clover, and I can see that.  For someone who wasn’t sure if they liked scent, or thought all scents were too “perfumey” this might make a good offering, though I can also see some critique of the scent reminding folks of a clothes detergent, as I suspect that this is what they’re always aiming for when they aim for grass or nature scents. I also want to say that this isn't so much real grass as the intense experience of grass, like grass as one might imagine experiencing it on a perception altering substance. FN2. I give the scent itself a solid 3.5 to 4 nods for originality and closeness to reality.

But to the more important question, in a head-to-head scent off, which lasts longer – perfume oil or alcohol splash, and how long is that, exactly? Here are my totally subjective findings.

The cologne splash lasted longer than the perfume oil on me, though when I first applied them, the oil was stronger on my skin. The dry down between the two, at least for Grass, was virtually identical, so you’re going to get the same ride either way. The cologne splash lasted a little over five hours in the slightest lingering, slightly longer than others warned me. The oil lasted even less than that, only about three and a half hours, which really surprised me, particularly when it started out so much stronger. Either way, a disappointingly short skin life.

Hmmm... grass...

Just to give it a last run, I took the splash and stuck some in a sprayer, then sprayed until wet, and that got me to almost seven hours, though it was very weak by then, and you’d go through a bottle pretty fast to use that much. Plus, it sprays on so wet you’d need to apply it before getting dressed so it didn’t run all into your clothes. In other words, it takes work to make it last, and even then it’s not a scent you'll still be catching whiffs of at the end of a full day.

So is it worth it? Well, I guess that depends. On the one hand, the scents aren’t going to last long in any iteration. On the other hand – so cheap and so many options! And on the gripping hand, some days you don’t want to wear the same scent for your morning and your evening plans, and in those cases this is a fine option. For a mere $18 you could go through three scents in one day. I don’t recommend the line for those looking for a ‘signature scent,’ but for those who like to play with scent wardrobe, for the price of one $60 scent, you can have ten completely different ones here. That makes them not only a fun addition to my extensive collection, but a great source for assuaging impulse shopping and stocking stuffers.

Which brings me, finally, to this: Your August prize draw. A bit late, sure, but here nonetheless. Winner gets my extra roller ball of Demeter Grass, a $10 gift certificate to Demeter Fragrances which is almost enough to buy you a 15ml cologne splash of your choosing and cover shipping within the U.S. (sorry, international readers, you’ll have to pay a little more for the shipping) and of course, a mix CD made by yours truly.

To enter, go to the Demeter Fragrance site (which is not AT ALL attractive, but at least appeals to the utilitarian in me), look through the list, and tell me what you might buy if you win!

Open to all readers anywhere, and very excited to hear your thoughts.

To enter please post by: 12:01AM, Monday, August 22, 2011 Pacific Standard Time.

"And she was drifting through the backyard...
And she was taking off her dress...
And she was moving very slowly...
Rising up above the earth...
Moving into the universe, and she's
Drifting this way and that...
Not touching ground at all, and she's
Up above the yard...
and she was."
"And She Was," Talking Heads

______________________________
FN1. I actually changed my mind so many times that I would have sworn to you with the delivered box unopened and in hand that I'd bought Salt Air, because I love going to the beach and do that a lot during the summers here, but apparently I changed my mind at the last minute. I think I decided I had a lot of 'beachy' scents already. I honestly don't remember. Now that I've been convinced it was coming, though, I want it. And I did just get paid today...

FN2. Not that I would know anything about that. It just seems that way, like when you look at a Van Gogh and you think, "Whatever he was on must have been wonderful!" or look at a HR Giger and think, "Holy Jesus, keep whatever he was taking away from me!"

I bet David Lynch could even make this
creepy...oh, wait! He did! In Blue Velvet!

FN3. I just want to make a note that there are a creepily large number of photos that turn up when you google image search "girl laying on grass" or even "person laying on grass" and you can make out the individual's identity in every one. Apparently artsy shots of obscured human figures on grass are not common, and now that I think about it, would probably come out looking sinister in a Lynch-esque way.

FN4. The Demeter description reminded me. I had this friend once who did her thesis on the history of the American lawn and how it's basically an environmental catastrophe as well as a socio-cultural catastrophe since its inception in the 1950s, single family homes destroying urban centers, creating horrible gridlock, and social isolation for women of the Feminine Mystique variety. It made sense, but also made me a little sad. In the way I tend to festishize small town Americana, I do love a good village green...

FN5. Does anyone else think the invention of astroturf was basically a one of the plastics/petroleum industry's most horrible ideas? Like terrible bad?

FN6. Ditto for golf courses? Does anyone else start ranting about how much they hate golf courses every time they drive by one?

FN7. Who knew I had so many thoughts about grass, lawns, and grass/lawn-related things?

You got your demons. You got desires. Well, I got a few of my own.

Scent Spotlight: By Kilian Incense Oud

As I have mentioned before, I am new to the world of oud. The only one I’ve tried so far is L'Artisan Al Oudh. I welcome any and all oud challengers, because, frankly, new is also awesome for me when it comes to scents. So when I was offered the chance to review By Kilian’s scent, Incense Oud created by Sidonie Lancesseur I jumped at the opportunity. This 2011 contribution is the third contribution to Arabian Nights Collection, after Pure Oud and Rose Oud. I have not tried either of those, so you’ll have to take this review from the Oud-newb context from which it comes.
The notes are as follows:

Oud is an extremely rare and precious oil found in Agarwood, the resinous heartwood of the Aquilaria tree from southeast Asia. The oil itself is dark in coloration and has a complex scent, being warm and woody, yet strongly animalistic at the same time. In many Middle Eastern countries, Oud is believed to be worth more than its weight in gold. To echo this belief, the Kilian bottle has a gold plaque engraved with the name of the perfume and the box is decorated with a gold plaque on the top. 

Notes: Guatemala cardamom, pink pepper, Turkish rose, Egyptian geranium, methyl pamplemousse, Virginia cedarwood, Indonesian patchouli, Indian papyrus, Somalia incense (oil and absolute), sandalwood, Macedonian oakmoss, Spanish cistus labdanum, musks.

The rose is very apparent in this for me. In fact, it reminded me, in my mind’s eye, of Tauer Incense Rosé. So I threw them on together for a side by side. Incense Oud is more soft and sandalwood in comparison to the Tauer. Where Incense Rosé and Insense Oud diverge is around the twenty minute mark, at which point you’d hardly believed they began at a similar place when the ending is different enough to be the differing ends of Frost’s divergent road not taken.

 It’s a very gentle scent that lacks any of the medicinal qualities I get from Al Oudh. I get very little labdanum. I do get the musk, but only gently. The sandalwood/moss/cedarwood makes for a nice balanced scent. It is a soft touch scent, like cool smooth fabric against the skin. The rose seems to have disappeared by the fifteen minute mark, but that’s okay. I enjoy what I find in its wake.

Incense Oud would work well on a man or a woman. It has low to moderate sillage and good lasting power (4-6 hours on me).  I also think it is the rare incense scent that would work very nice in hot weather, so it makes for a great summer oud scent. A respectable 3.5 of 5 nods.

You can buy Incense Oud direct from the perfumer, at Luckyscent, or even Amazon, so if you want it, you can find it. Be forewarned, though: it's pricey.

"One of these nights,
one of these crazy old nights,
we're gonna find out, pretty mama,
What turns on your lights.
The full moon is calling.
The fever is high,
and the wicked wind whispers and moans...
I've been searching for the daughter of the devil himself.
I've been searching for an angel in white.
I've been waiting for a woman
who's a little of both,
and I can feel her
but she's nowhere in sight."
- "One of These Nights," The Eagles

Want more? Try...
~ a review from Perfume-Smellin' Things
~ a review from The Smell of Bliss
~ a review from Perfume Shrine
~ a review from Ca Fleure Bon
~ a review from The Scented Salamander
~ a review from scentsate

In the interest of full disclosure, By Kilian Incense Oud was provided to me by the perfumer for review.

Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart?

Scent Spotlight: L'Artisan Bois Farine EdT

As promised, this year as I sprint through five scents a week, I promised to pause on occasion to sing high praises for the occasional show stopper.  The first of these is inspired by that most commerical of lover's holiday -- Valentine's Day.

Here's what L'Artisan has to say about Bois Farine, a 2003 release:

Created by Jean-Claude Ellena, perfume composer of great talent and international fame, Bois Farine (Wood Flour) is the product of his encounter with a magic tree in the Reunion Islands. Here, in a forest known as the coloured wood forest, surrounded by evocatively named trees , red wood, yellow wood, iron wood and milk wood, he unexpectedly discovered the fragrant white tree - a rare and nowadays protected species, reputed to have magical powers. This tree is specific to Reunion Island and its red flower smells like flour.

Bois Farine is a single and unique fragrance, a magical union between witch wood and flower powder … As rich and fresh as flour rain.

Notes: white cedar, gaiacwood and sandalwood, white iris, farine flower, fennel seed

A ton of reviewers comment on an initial encounter with what they describe as a "peanut butter" note. My pretties, I am getting none of that, and I like peanut butter enough that you could probably still list a well-made  PB and J among my favorite foods, so I admit it was weirdly disappointing.

Instead I was bombarding my a fleeting litany of imagery I can only describe as Valentine-esque. I was so stunned by  the experience I actually set Bois Farine aside expressly for a very special February spotlight.  I'm on try four now, just to confirm my prior impressions, and if I were going to say that any scent seemed stereotypically Valentine's Day like to me, this would be it.  Here's what I get:

Slide 1: A little girl, light brown curls and cupid's bow lips, cutting a string of paper hearts from cheap red construction paper so faded it actually looks kind of sickly
Slide 2: A thin, almost severe looking woman with black hair tied into a bun in a black satin night gown before a large oval mirror on a dressing table, looking at her hollowed cheeks with an air of discerning judgement, then hitting herself smack in the face with a huge and overloaded powder puff
Slide 3: Tiny hands very carefully gluing, with WAY TOO MUCH glue, hearts cut from paper doilies onto purple paper with "HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY" printed very carefully across the top
Slide 4: A young woman exclaiming in cartoonesque excitment over flower delivery of completely silk flowers straight from the factory
Slide 5: a pre-teen flopping down on a bed, giant "Princess Leia" esque headphone on as she carefully writes out the tracks on the inside lines of a casette tape in smearing pastel glitter pens
Slide 6: A shower of red hots falling onto a glass bowl sitting on a well-floured surface, then pink frosted cupcakes being pressed, frosting down, into them until they are coated with red hots

I could go on.  My initial notes, which are really my immediate, unfiltered, stream-of-consciousness impressions read as follows:

Baby powder and lipstick, silk flowers and red hots.  If I were going to say that any scent seemed stereotypically Valentine's Day , this would be it.

Here I am three weeks and several tries later and I stand by it.  It's woody, but not in a pencil shaving way or an incense-y way like so many others.  It's sweet, but not overly so. I don't think of it as foodie, even though the immediate thought I have every time is red-laquered nails digging in a bin of  waxy holiday candy.  I think I keep getting red hots because it's cinnamon-flavored candies I keep thinking I'm smelling, and I don't think I've ever thought I smelled that in a scent before.  It's not precisely floral, either, but it still has a vaguely sweet floral scent.

So the big question: do I like it?  Bois Farine is a controversial scent when you look through other reviews. People either love it or hate it or cannot decide enough to say, which says a lot for its not smelling like anything else, and that alone is no mean feat.  Bois Farine was the first in the Far Away Travels line, and I have to appreciate the strange pace it set for what followed.  when it comes to the "Far Away Travels" series, which I personally either psychotically love (Timbuktu, Dzongkha) or find really disappointing (Havana Vanille). FN1  This one I'm putting tentatively  into the love category, which surprises me.  I do really like it, though, perhaps because of, instead of in spite of, its weirdness.  It's definitely a "try before you buy" scent; hell, you should probably try it twice.  Like Robin, I wish I could get it in a 15ml sprayer.  I think I'd wear it, but not often enough to merit 50ml.  15ml would be about perfect.  That, or I need to find another Bois Farine loving weirdo to do a split with me.

You can buy Bois Farine direct from the perfumer, as well as at Luckyscent, Beauty Encounter, Beauty Habit and I'm sure a ton of other places. The price? 50 ml for $95 and 100ml for $135, which let me tell you is a downright reasonable price point if this melts your butter.

"O-o-old habits die hard when you got,
when you got a sentimental heart .
Piece of the puzzle, you're my missing part.
Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart?"
"Sentimental Heart," She & Him

Want more? Try...
~ a rare reconsideration from Robin at Now Smell This!
~ a review from Bois de Jasmine
~ a review from Aromascope
~ a review from Pere de Pierre
~ a review from Olfactoria's Travels, who looks like she started back in October and has a pretty good thing going

________________________
FN1 Yeah, yeah, yeah, you all love it.  You seriously question my taste if I don't. Etc. Etc. Let the stoning begin.

Photo, and all attendant rights related to it: kristelyoneda.