There is no home like the one you've got...

Updates from Rwanda, Part 3

You know that scene in Almost Famous, where William Miller is getting further and further into life with the band and farther away from his home and life before he got the gig with Rolling Stone Magazine?

 He's on the bus, and he's freaking out because he is sort of feeling the last of his normalcy slipping away, and he turns to Penny Lane and says, “I need to go home!”

 And then Penny smiles, slow and wide, holds up her empty palm and pretends to blow something out of it into his face, waggles her fingers, and says, “You are home!”

That is what the last few days have felt like.

The ex-pats here keep trying to get me to stay longer...or permanently. They keep proposing options, both ridiculous and realistic. They have offered to pass me around as a live-in counselor and cook. They have suggested I teach at one of the local tech schools, and even offered to get me a tour. One particularly alcohol-soaked night, it was suggested I learn to distill vodka from potatoes on the internet, and then start Kigali's first distillery. I even have a backing offer.

I've only been here about twelve days, but strangely, I could see it. Of all the things I thought I could imagine when I not only left home for the first time, but of all places, went to Africa, I did not imagine liking it enough to be able to imagine myself living here.

And yet...I could see it. I could imagine taking in generation after generation of Peace Corps. volunteers who wanted a safe place to live with hot running water. I could imagine working here, living here, even driving here, which has to be one of the scariest endeavors available. Kigali, for all its problems, is beautiful. It's decently well-organized. It's relatively safe.

There are things I would miss: easily accessible and wide varieties of cheese, for one. Any hope of decent internet. Western healthcare. American television. Obviously I would need to find a way to get my perfume collection here in one piece.

But there are so many things here I can already see myself missing when I go back: fresh and plentiful fruit juices, glass after glass. The beautiful countryside with its lakes and mountains, which I am only just starting to explore. The art, the music, the dancing, the textiles. The flowers that grow everywhere, in more kinds than I have seen outside botanical gardens, all fragrant and bright. And I'll tell you this: I eat a helluva lot better in Africa than I ever do in the U.S.

I knew that coming here was going to be an adventure. And that was good. I needed a little adventure in my life. A smidgen of upheaval. Some mild shakubuku. 2014, the year of doing things I never imagined I'd do.  It seemed like a theme worth embracing.

I did not expect to come here, look around, and think, “Yes, I could live here. I could be okay with getting my own electricity and water. I could adjust to the less than reliable internet. I could be happy here. I could learn French, and even a some Ikinyarwanda. I could live this life.”

I realize a huge part of my feelings about this have to do with the relative safety of Kigali, my high amounts of contact with other Americans, and the general high quality of life I'm experiencing here. Nonetheless, I did not expect to find myself thinking, “Yes, I could like and even love living in Africa.”

I miss my friends back home, but I don't miss home itself in the way I expected. It's an interesting, discovering new things about myself.  It's nice to know that even well into my thirties, I am not done growing, changing, becoming who I am supposed to be.  Any reports of my death have been exaggerated, even in my own mind;  I am still, very much, alive.

And this feeling of fitting, of being bigger than I thought I was, more capable of embracing newness, chaos, change -- it's wonderful. It reminds me again how often we live our lives small, thinking we are only capable of navigating a thimble worth of experience, when inside we are vast oceans of being. At the end of the day, our boundaries are defined more often by our fear than by our own capacity.

I would like, very much, to be less afraid.

Today I am wearing Lavanila Laboratories Vanilla Grapefruit. Available at Sephora, Vanilla Grapefruit is described as follows:

An uplifting citrus, this addictive blend of juicy pink grapefruit, fresh lime, crisp cedarwood, and warm Madagascar vanilla is fresh and inviting. Kissed by sunshine, this unique scent lifts the spirits.

Each fragrance starts with a warm base of Madagascar vanilla and layers on a unique blend of pure essential oils for an exquisite expression of nature that captures a mood, a memory, or a moment in time. Hailed as the world’s first healthy fragrance, natural technology infuses organic sugar cane alcohol with skin-saving botanicals and antioxidants for a modern twist on the classic art of perfumery.

Notes: Pink Grapefruit, Lime, Bergamot, Orange, Cedarwood, Madagascar Vanilla.

Sephora describes Vanilla Grapefruit's style as “Exotic. Sensual. Addictive.” Maybe that's why I keep respraying it. On application, the grapefruit note is strong, but fades quickly into a mixture of grapefruit, vanilla, and lime that smells more like those chewable fruit candies than actual fruit to me. That isn't a knock, by the way. I love those things. I just wouldn't reach for this one looking for a realistic fruit scent.

After about an hour, a lot of that candied smell burns off and Vanilla Grapefruit settles into a scent that is more woody and powdery than foodie or floral. The bergamot is very faint on me, but I get a nice balance of cedar and a vanilla that reminds me of the big tins of puff powder with giant pink powder puffs I used to get as holiday gifts when I was a little girl. Those things only ever smelled like one of two things: roses or vanilla. (Honestly, it's a wonder I love both notes so much. I guess I figure I'm spicy enough on my own that adding a little sweet certainly can't hurt.)

Vanilla Grapefruit is decently long lasting. I can still smell it faintly over six hours along. In terms of sillage? Moderate. I wouldn't take a bath in it, but if you're a careful sprayer, you can wear it without giving anyone around you a toothache.

I'm sure all this sugar is going to make everyone who sniff this feel like Vanilla Grapefruit is the province of fifteen year old girls.  Well let me tell you, I am no teenager, and I get a lot of compliments on it, so don't right off it's light, fizzy fun as too youthful for you without trying it out first.

Vanilla Grapefruit is available from Sephora in a 75ml spray for $58. I feel like this is a pretty good price for what you're getting. As always, I recommend trying before you buy.

I could only find one other review from Musing of a Muse.  Too bad for you fumies out there.  Vanilla Grapefruit is a nice little scent and I will always remember it as part of my trip to Rwanda.

I have got so much to give.
I swear, I do.
I may not have nine lives,
but this one feels brand new.
Yes I've lived a good one.
I have tried to be true.
There are some things I never realized
'til I met you.
How the wind feels on my cheeks
When I'm barkin' at the moon!
There is no home like the one you've got
'cause that home belongs to you!
~ “Barking at the Moon,” Jenny Lewis

It’s not hard, not far to reach; we can hitch a ride to rockaway beach.

A Review of Creed Virgin Island Water

Most of the time, my perfume collection is a blessing to me. I'm having a bad day, I feel lost or sad or angry or let down, and I spend a little time with my perfume and I feel a little better. But lately, I've been frustrated. Disappointed. I get up, I get dressed, I got to my perfume cabinet, and then I just....

….stand there.

And I stare.

 And then I stare some more.

Everything seems wrong, somehow. Too floral. Too foodie. Too sweet, far too sweet, even my spicier scents. The one thing I keep wanting, Demeter Salt Air, which is basically nothing but a light aquatic, salt explosion, I can't find. This has never happened to me, dear reader, not in my almost six years of collecting. I want to write to you, and tell of you the wonderful scents out there, but in truth?

I have olfactory ennui.

I didn't even know such an unholy malediction was possible! I mean, of course I've seen other people blog about boredom or frustration or how everything seems to smell the same, but this seems...different, somehow. This is more of a spiritual scent emptiness, a vast chasm of faith momentarily lost that has shaken me.

My hope is that it will change soon. The weather is changing; that usually helps. It's getting hot here, almost oppressively hot. Too soon to be so hot. But I digress...

In honor of this hot weather, and my general state of perfume unhappy, I am taking the olfactory fast forward and jumping into the summer wardrobe with Creed Virgin Island Water.

According to the Creed website:

Virgin Island Water was awarded four out of five stars in a review by The New York Times.

Classification: Citrus / Fresh

Characteristics: Virgin Island Water captures the tropical splendor of scents carried in the trade winds of Sir Francis Drake Channel near Ginger Island in the Caribbean.

Top Note: Essence of copra (the white inner portion of the coconut); lime of the Antilles; white bergamot and mandarin orange from Sicily.
Middle Note: Hibiscus, ginger, ylang-ylang and Indian jasmine.
Bottom Note: Sugar cane and white rum of the Antilles, musk from Tonkin.

Virgin Island Water shows up on a lot of “best of” lists for summer scents and beachy scents. I can see why. On me the overall scent tilts toward the powdery flowers, Tonkin musk, and coconut milk. A little liquor sweetness and lime are in there for the few few minutes, but afterwards the fade into the background, as a hint of something that has past but might yet come round again. For something relatively floral and sweet, Virgin Island Water is very light on me. I can imagine keeping this one in a fridge to spray on before bed or after a cooling shower and feeling like I was scented without the scent wearing me. The sillage is moderate to low, and the staying power peters out around the four hour mark, which is on the short side. Normally I'd complain, but in the summer putting something on early in the day that disappears before the relentless heat descends can be a blessing.

Virgin Island Water is different from a lot of beach scents I've tried. It's less aggressively floral than Annick Goutal Songes. It's decidedly and delightfully more complex than Salt Air. It is less traditionally American beach fun than say, CB I Hate Perfume At the Beach 1966, or even Estee Lauder Bronze Goddess. The group of scents it mentally reminds me of most is the Un Jardin collection from Hermès. I can see it fitting right alongside Un Jardin Sur Le Nil and Un Jardin En Mediterranee. Delicate, sophisticate, and downright pretty, I highly recommend trying this one as you consider summer scent purchases.

The prices for Creed Virgin Island Water vary wildly; I saw 2.5oz for only $100. Retail is a bit higher, so shopping around on the internet for this one is worth the time if you want it. I got my sample from The Perfumed Court, but you should also check your local Nordstrom, as some stores are now carrying Creed.

Til next week, my lovelies!

Chewing out a rhythm on my bubble gum.
The sun is out and I want some.
It’s not hard, not far to reach.
We can hitch a ride
to rockaway beach.
~ "Rockaway Beach," The Ramones

Notes from the Plague Den, Part 4: The Plague Continues!

A Review of Aftelier Perfumes Trèvert EdP

Yes, here we are again, dear reader. One girl, one bed, one persistent flu virus that will not vacate the premises. But! We have cats now. Cats, a wide variety of high quality teas, and all the internet provided video entertainment you could want, plus my extensive DVD collection. Also, clean clothes. After living on campus for many years and suffering the trials and tribulations of the communal laundry room, I really appreciate my washer and dryer.

And speaking of things that make me happy even in my plaguey misery, let's talk some more about Aftelier Perfumes! Today we're going to talk about Aftelier Perfumes Trèvert, which is described as:

Verdant pine absolute, leafy flouve absolute, and ambery clary sage contribute to this "very green" eau de parfum. All shades of leafy green aromas, wrapped around a tuberose heart that lends warmth and roundness to the gorgeous smell of pine needles.

Featured Notes:
Top: grand fir, tarragon.
Heart: tuberose, clary sage.
Base: pine needle absolute, flouve.

Trèvert's opening is so green! It is bright, tangy, and so super green! On me, Trèvert smells strongly of sage with highlights of firs in the opening. I wish this aspect lasted a little longer because it is really delightful. Then Trèvert quickly slides into a dry hay-like note. The tuberose is extremely reigned in here, so don't let that scare you off if it isn't your favorite note. In fact, if you ever wanted to try a tuberose that wasn't all about tuberose, Trèvert is a great selection.

Trèvert's middle and end is more toward that sweet hay-like note mixed with a healthy dose of mint and grasses. The overall effect of Trèvert reminds me of a hike across a lovely fresh cut park with rolling hills and framed with pines and firs in the distance, their scent gently wafting toward you in the warmth of summer.

As with Candide, Trèvert is so, so pretty. It might be one of the most gorgeous green scents I've ever tried. It avoids all your greenery-related traps: it isn't overly Christmasy, it isn't like a cleanser or a cheap scented paper tree hanging in your car, it has nothing in common with a bar of Irish Spring. It isn't overly strong. It doesn't bite at the nose. But...

...it really doesn't last very long for me! I am so sad about it. SO UTTERLY SAD. I can't justify purchasing it for myself when I spray and spray and it's faded to almost imperceptible on me with two hours. Sadly, Trèvert isn't available in a parfum, so for me–and it breaks my heart to say this–I have to pass on this one. Not because it isn't a unique, lovely tour de force of a green scent, but because my perfume budget has its limits, and I can't justify it for myself. You should try it, though. It's really terrific. I wish it didn't die on my skin so quickly.

I give the scent itself a full 4 to 4.5 stars; due to the longevity, however, I have to give the overall experience – for me, at least – only a very respectable 3.5. If I had more money, the uniqueness of the scent might be worth it despite the short life on my skin. Heck, if I had the money, I'd practically bath in the stuff and swan about my house smelling terrific, then two hours later, do it again.

The only review I could find of Trèvert was this lovely endorsement from Monica at Perfume Pharmer.

Trèvert EdP is available direct from Aftelier Perfumes in a 1ml sample for $60. 30ml will run you $170.

Tune in again tomorrow, when I talk some more about, well, frankly? How much I love Mandy Aftel.


In the interest of full disclosure, the perfume sample above was provided by the perfumer.

Notes from the Plague Den, Part 3: Left Coast Edition!

A Review of Aftelier Perfumes Candide EdP

Hello dear reader! I come to you once again from my plague den. Different location, same tenacious disease! 

At least I am home now. Home comes with certain comforts not even an expense account and endless delivery Chinese soup can provide – namely, CATS! No, they don't talk back, but when even maid service stopped coming to my room and I went for entire days without seeing another human being in Boston, the comforting sounds of my roommates downstairs and cats meowing and general catly liveliness has been really comforting. I feel much less like I'm living a terrible missed chapter of World War Z or some other weird post-apocalyptic tale where all the world has ended but because the cable keeps playing I don't realize I'm the only one alive for miles.

But if I had to be the last living person in the state of Massachusetts, at least I would have gone out smelling AWESOME. That's right, dear reader. I have my priorities in line. If I die, let me die peacefully in my sleep with dignity and not eaten by zombies or wild dogs or wild zombie dogs. But if it must be zombie dogs, at least let those survivors who find scrapes of clothing as the only trace of my remains think, “This mysterious dead woman smelled beautiful even to her tragic and grisly end.”

Wow. That was weird and dark. Blame the fever brain. That's what I'm going to do.

Moving on to the event you've all been waiting for – the perfume! Let me start out by telling you about the joys Aftelier Perfumes Candide. Candide is described thusly:

Bright, uplifting floral, expressing its theme of optimism through sublime jasmine and age-old frankincense. Recent research in the Journal of Biological Chemistry finds that the scent of jasmine is better than Valium at calming and soothing. The sunny color comes from the orange shades of jasmine, pink grapefruit, and blood orange essences. The smell of jasmine is uplifting and cheerful in a sexy way – the perfect blend of high and low, sweet and dirty. The pink grapefruit is juicy and sweet; the blood orange smells of mouth-watering orange mixed with raspberries. The name is an homage to the great novel from Voltaire, with its theme of optimism.

Featured Notes:
Top: black pepper, blood orange, pink grapefruit.
Heart: jasmine grandiflorum, Moroccan rose absolute.
Base: frankincense, oppopanax absolute, myrrh.

Okay, for you literary types, let me say up front: this is not what I imagine Candide would smell like. That said, it's such an interesting scent! The black pepper is really prominent on me in the opening, and it gives the citrus a sharp, tangy edge. It's not foodie but it's not the light girlie note citruses so often come across as in scent. When I talk to people about the gendering of scent, I always like to use citruses as an example of the ways we tend to gender scents in silly ways. FN1. Candide is a perfect example of a scent with a strong citrus top note that would work well on a woman but doesn't necessarily come across as girlish or feminine. I think this is in part because the opening on me is medicinal and a little green, which I'm crediting to the rich base notes.

While there are hints of rose here, jasmine is the primary floral note for me, but it is well-balanced against the incense and citrus to the point that I honestly think it's probably 40%/30%/30% on me. It works beautifully together in a kind of harmony. As for the base, Victoria of Bois de Jasmin describes “the effect of opoponax is glowing and sensual” in perfumery, and I get that in Candide. There is a sensual glow to Candide, but it isn't overwhelming. I'd say it's sexy in a way that isn't obvious or overtly self-aware. It's a sexy scent that isn't trying to be sexy, that doesn't necessarily know it's sexy...and yet, it is. In that way, it is a perfect scent for the scent lover of any age.

A lot of people found the scent to be spiritual. Reviewers comment on the “Happy Buddha” or the “cathedral” aspects of Candide. FN2. I don't find it a particularly religious experience as scents go, but then, that may be due to my particular array of religious experiences.

There are also a lot of reviews that cheer the scent for being happy and joyous. I can see that, certainly, but I don't think that really does Candide justice. A lot of citrus-oriented scents get tagged with “happy,” and while Candide does have an element of that, I'd argue that it ultimately rejects any hint of a kind of Polly Anna glass-half-full-ness. It's a tempered optimism, an appreciation that only comes with the knowledge of the bitter. As Brian says in Vanilla Sky, “You can do whatever you want with your life, but one day you'll know what love truly is. It's the sour and the sweet. And I know sour, which allows me to appreciate the sweet.” I'm reminded of that quote when I smell Candide. It knows enough of sour to appreciate the sweet. I like that.

My only complaint is that the longevity, on me, was on the short side. The sillage is moderate at first, but becomes quieter and quieter until it just...dies on my skin. This is a real surprise to me because I'm one of those people who usually get a lot of life out of...everything. I'm the girl who gets four to six hours out of almost any scent that hits my skin. And with Candide, six hours is the absolute max for me, and I have to hunt with nose pressed to arm to find it. Normally I wouldn't find this a huge drawback except....at this price point, it is a real struggle for me to balance the truly beautiful scent against the longevity against the cost. Because of this, I strongly recommend a sample first of this scent, because not everyone who tries it has this problem. I'm wondering, upon reflection, if the decision to get the EdP version of Candide was where I went wrong (which I will dutifully correct with my wallet forthwith).

The scent itself is very well-done; in the 4 to 5 star range. However, due to the short skin life of the EdP on me, I have to give the overall experience 3.5 stars.  Upon reflection, though, I keep going back to what the lovely Martha said regarding the Aftelier Perfumes line in a comment on this blog a few weeks ago:

I wish that I could find what Henry Mitchell (my favorite garden writer) had to say about the question of long-blooming flowers, but the gist of it was that a peony or a once-blooming rose is often beautiful enough to be worth far more than many sturdy flowers that bloom all summer. The three days that they bloom before being torn apart by the last spring storm, gone until next year, is ample payment for the space that they occupy. 

The same is true for Cepes & Tuberose, and Honey Blossom, and most of the Aftelier scents that I've tried; even if they did only last an hour, they'd be worth it. And you don't even have to wait until next year to smell them again.

I have to agree with this statement.  Everything I have tried from Aftelier Perfumes is so singular an experience, I am tempted to say hang the expense.  I leave that debate to you and your wallet, dear reader.  It's going to depend a lot on how much longevity factors into your personal evaluations, and whether you think great scent -- at any length -- is worth it.

Candide EdP is available direct from Aftelier Perfumes. A 1ml sample of the EdP or .25ml of the pure parfum will run you $6. A 30ml bottle of EdP is $170. A 2ml mini of the parfum runs $50.

Okay. Back to watching a little mind-numbing TV while I wait for the sleepy meds to kick in. Tune in tomorrow for more reviews of Aftelier Perfumes! Now for one last cat picture before I go...

Want more reviews of Candide? Try…
~ a review from Robin at Now Smell This!
~ a review from Olfactoria's Travels
~ a review from Perfume-Smellin' Things
~ a review from EauMG
~ a review from The Non-Blonde
~ a review from Scent-and-Sensibility
~ a review from Katie Puckrik Smells
~ a review from CaFleureBon
~ a review from Scent Less Sensibilities

__________
FN1. I usually use leather, oranges, and vanilla to point out to people that when we encounter these elements in their real world expressions – a vanilla bean pod, a horse saddle, a luggage store, a grapefruit or an orange – we don't immediately think “girlie!” or “dude!” or “unisex!” We only assign these items a gender when we are lead by societal norming/commercialism to do so. I implore you – DO NOT FALL FOR THIS. As Admiral Ackbar would say, “It's a trap!”

FN2. I have to say that the “cathedral” review from Marina is my favorite of Candide as a reader of perfume-inspired writing. I encourage you to read it, especially if you're a lit/philosophy type. I really like the way she ties the scent to its literary namesake.


In the interest of full disclosure, the perfume sample above was provided by the perfumer.

We're one, but we're not the same.

Coeur d'Esprit Natural Perfumes Ele-Metal Alchemy/One

Here we are again, dear reader, exploring the wonderful world of Air. I'd like to pause briefly and say, now that we are on day 5 of 6 days of Air, that one of the most interesting challenges in reviewing the Primordial Scent Project: Air Set is that there are a lot of different ways to interpret Air.

I loved each and every one of the Water scents, but there was a a thread I could discern running between them. Each take on water was, in some deeply fundamental way, always water. Air, however, has been all over the map, scent wise. And that is good, I think. It's forced me to broaden my impression of what Air might mean.

Each scent has taken the concept of the word and stretched it, tweaked it, made it more than I'd imagined before I'd opened the tiny tin with the yellow label. For that I'm grateful. It's always nice to be challenged. It's nice to take the moment to reconsider. And nothing has challenged me more in this set than Coeur d'Esprit Natural Perfumes Ele-Metal Alchemy .

Ele-Metal Alchemy is described by perfumer Lyn E. Ayre as follows:

This five-layer fragrance was born in the Earth, forged in the Fire, cooled in the Water, and dried in the Air. Then it was blessed by Spirit with the number Three, the Infinity symbol, colour & crystals, toning, and a prayer that it be worn for the highest good of the wearer. It now lives in the Ether around the wearer, balancing and harmonizing the inner and outer elements.

The perfume plays out backwards to how it was created. We detect the first whiffs of scent through the ether. It brings up images of airy clouds in the light blue sky and the ethereal whiffs of pine and spruce bent over from the ocean winds; the honeybee winging from flower to flower; and the green leaves, hanging by a thread and flittering in the wind.From Crown Chakra to Third Eye, to Throat, then Heart down to Sacral up to Solar Plexus down to Root up, it spirals in Fibonacci fashion.

Crown – the dream is given through Clair-gnosis, as I sleep.
Third Eye –the vision is inwardly viewed and constructed before pen goes to paper or a bottle is even opened. Accords are what is needed for this project.
Heart –The Air accord of pine and mints refreshes the senses and opens them up to the water experience.
Sacral –The Water accord of Ocean tincture (sand, shells, seaweed, sea grass in alcohol), Ambergris, and aqueous White Flowers such as Frangipani, Blue, Pink, & White Lotus, Jasmine sambac, and Neroli remind us of our birth place in the deep primordial oceans of time.
Solar Plexus –The Fire accord of hot spices and balsams burn in the heat of our passion to be more of who we are meant to be.
Root –The Earth layer of Vetiver, Cedar, Hyraceum, Frankincense grounds the wearer into Gaia.
Throat –Ether: This perfume breathes the concept of ‘ONE’ – organized network of energy; It lives the notion of ‘I AM’ – it all matters; it tones the theory of the ‘OM’ – only me. In essence, it says, ‘I am only one but I am one, and only I can take responsibility for my life’s path, and the ultimate ensuing, journey until my last exhale.

This scent is complex. The opening has a kind of zing to it that reminds me of the taste of fresh horseradish mixed with mint, which slides into a lot of warm spice and wood within about a minute of application. This is the place Ele-Metal Alchemy lives on my skin the longest - in a woody, minty, warm spice area. It also has a strong rubber note at times, that at other times reminds me of Cheerwine?

Ele-Metal Alchemy is an unusual scent. It doesn't remind my of anything else I've tried, which is impressive, and it seems a little different every time I wear it. Maybe that means it is really reactive to whateveer is going on with my skin chemistry right now, but it could also be that, at different points when I wear it, I'm in need of various parts of the spiral Lynn describes.

I've tried Ele-Metal Alchemy a couple of times and it is an interesting Air indeed. It bubbles, it fizzles, it pops. It's pretty, but that's not all it is. It's also warm and sizzling and layered. And yes, pretty. But pretty seems like a bonus in the midst of all this interesting substance. On the whole, a curious scent worth further exploration. If you're into perfume and feeling like you never try anything new, I encourage you to try Ele-Metal Alchemy. It's an awakening all its own.

Ele-Metal Alchemy is available direct from the perfumer in a 10ml atomizer for $37.20. Please note that when the Primordial Scent Project is complete, this scent will simply be called "One."

You can buy the entire Primordial Scent Project: Air Set for $28.00 here.

For more reviews of the Primordial Scent Project: Air Scents, try: Perfume-Smellin' Things; The Perfume Critic; John Reasinger, writing for Perfume Pharmer; Indieperfumes; Donna Hathaway, writing for Perfumer Pharmer.

One life,
but we're not the same.
We get to carry each other...
One.
"One," U2

Perfume photos taken by me. Photo of Cheerwine taken from NYTimes. All Rights Reserved.

Of cloudless climes and starry skies...

Neil Morris Fragrances Spirit of Air

Once upon a time I had an enormous crush on a woman because she always smelled good.

Don't get me wrong. She was a generally lovely woman. Attractive, funny, good-hearted, bright minded, sweet. There was a lot to like about her. But at the time, what I liked about her was that she smelled so good.

The best thing about it was she didn't smell good because of a particular shampoo or perfume or body wash. She wasn't really into fragrance. She didn't consistently use particular hair and body products. She just smelled good. It wasn't her clothes of soap or hair spray.  It was her. The essence of her. She carried this loveliness around her like an aura, floating in the air around her, a cloud of beauty. Like the famous Lord Byron poem, she walked in beauty.

I never could properly describe her scent, but I still remember her loveliness. Though we were never more than friends, I will always remember her and the way her scent made her that much more beautiful.

And speaking of the air of beauty, let's talk about our third Primordial Scent Project: Air Set offering, shall we?

Neil Morris Fragrances Spirit Of Air is described as

part of a quartet of perfumes honoring the 4 elements. This scent is the second in Morris' series, after Spirit of Water. Spirit Of Air has notes of "Lemon Verbena, Linden Blossom, Plum Blossom, Lily of the Valley, Sunflower, Light Musk, White Amber, Ozone Notes.

This is a lovely, gently sweet floral. In a world of artful takes on air, this is very wearable, which is quite an accomplishment. Sometimes scent is art and sometimes scent is accent and occasionally, very occasionally, you find a scent that works as both. If Spirit of Air is an essence of air, it is the essence of air captured in the hair of your beloved, the way it smells when you bury your face against their head or at the nape of the neck.

This air is the air of romance.  It reminds me of that lovely woman, whom I assume is still out there, somewhere.  I have no doubt that where she walks, she takes that inherent beauty with her, not unlike this scent.

To purchase, go directly to the Neil Morris Fragrances site, choose any of the Vault fragrances and then request Spirit of Air at checkout. And if you're interested, don't delay. Until November 5, Neil Morris Fragrances are available at 10% off and free shopping for orders over $70.00.

You can buy the entire Primordial Scent Project: Air Set for $28.00 here.

For more reviews of the Primordial Scent Project: Air Scents, try: Perfume-Smellin' Things; The Perfume Critic; John Reasinger, writing for Perfume Pharmer; Indieperfumes; Donna Hathaway, writing for Perfumer Pharmer.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
~ "She Walks in Beauty," Lord Byron


Photo of perfume taken by me.  Photo of woman walking courtesy of the Library of Congress, all rights reserved.

It flutters like soft wings in flight...

Velvet & Sweet Pea's Purrfumery Honey

Dear reader:

Despite my obsessive fantasies of travel, I have only been out of the country one time. It was less than a year ago. My friend LillieMae and I went to Victoria, B.C.

While we were there, we had some plans: we were going to go see a castle (turned out to be a big mansion, but hey, it was still historic and cool), have high tea (delicious!), and go to the Butterfly Gardens. FN1. Though it took a long, bumpy (and in Lillie's case moderate car-sickness-inducing) bus ride to get there, the gardens were worth the trip. In fact, they were pretty amazing. FN2.

There were so many beautiful winged beasties, both minuscule and enormous, and the air scent was a mixture of the cool, wet mist pumped through the space to keep the leaves of all the tropical plants green and flowering and the sweetness of the copious sugar water feeders hanging everywhere to keep the butterflies fat and happ. After the long ride in the massive heat, it was a great respite in an active day. Despite the summer crowd, it felt kind of magical to wander in the dewy air under hanging vines, among huge fronds, and  twisting around trees with fat leaves, supple and heavy with life, while all around you tiny iridescent creatures in more hues than the rainbow has colors swooped and dove through the air.

When I smell Velvet & Sweet Pea's Purrfumery Honey by perfumer Laurie Stern, I think of that place. Honey is described as follows:

Notes: All hail to the queen bee! This regal, opulent composition of French orange blossom, and Moroccan and Bulgarian roses sits on a throne of deep vetiver, Madagascar vanilla, honey, beeswax from the Purrfumery’s bees and my bee guru’s propolis. It is crowned with rare antique clove, pomegranate and pink grapefruit. This royal blend is set in a rich base of sandalwood and vanilla infused alcohol.

Honied and sweet, this scent is the Air of Spring. It has clarity and openness like light glinting on water, like the brush of butterfly wings against skin. I get quite a bit of beeswax, and the floral, fruit, and vanilla sweetnesses blend smoothly, like the warmth flow of poured honey.  As a lover of honey scents, I tend to like these scents, and this one is unique in that it seems less foodie in its honey essence and more the idea of being surrounded by pure honey atomized into the air.

Honey, as the name implies, is a rather sweet scent, but it is truly lovely. Though the opening is quite strong, about 45 minutes in it lightens considerably, so if you like sweet scents on the lighter side, this might be a good scent for you if you can give it a bit. It's an intense experience at first, much like the deep darker wings of butterflies hiding in shadows;  the lingering effect, however, is the image of pale-winged Lepidoptera Papilionoidea soaring through a bright sun overhead, light gleaming through their iridescent skin.

As Laurie Stern states, "honey liquid perfume makes a royal gift, bottled in an elegant Brosse crystal stopper bottle and tucked into an enchanting dupioni silk purse with its own Victorian scent card." It is available direct from the perfumer in three sizes: 8 ml for $185; 15 ml for $325; 1 oz for $550.

Editor's note: Honey is also available in an EdP at 6ml for $75.00 and a solid crème perfume at 10ml for $225.00. Thanks to Monica for the note.

You can buy the entire Primordial Scent Project: Air Set for $28.00 here.

For more reviews of the Primordial Scent Project: Air Scents, try: Perfume-Smellin' Things; The Perfume Critic; John Reasinger, writing for Perfume Pharmer; Indieperfumes; Donna Hathaway, writing for Perfumer Pharmer.

I feel it when you're with me,
It happens when you kiss me,
that rare and gentle feeling that I feel inside.
Your touch is soft and gentle.
Your kiss is warm and tender.
Whenever I am with you I think of butterflies.
~ "Love is Like a Butterfly," Dolly Parton

_____________

FN1. We decided to pass on Butchart Gardens for a number of reasons: expense, time, my allergy to bees, etc.

FN2. Next time, Lil, we will either take the car or rent one. I promise. While the public transit system in Victoria is very easy to use and all the bus drivers were really nice, it was really not worth the additional illness, especially given...the ferry.


Perfume photos taken by me. Awesome butterfly photos taken by LillieMae Stone, 2011. Used with permission. All rights reserved.

Blackberry winter in a little white church...

Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay

You know what I love, dear reader?

A fancy 'do. I don't mean a fancy hairdo (though those are nice, too), I mean a fancy schmancy party. Doubly nice? Perfume release parties. Seriously. They are the height of indulgence. Nice food and drinks, nice smells, nice people -- the best of all.

Now I know that a lot of people have middling feelings about Jo Malone scents, particularly among the those who are run perfume blogs. I personally find their scent line to have a lot of scents that hit a pleasing note that isn't aggressive or hard to deal with, just pretty and fun and easy in a thoughtless way, which frankly, has been kind of nice given my stress levels of late. I have quite a few of their scents and I know my local reps at the downtown Nordstrom by name, so when they have events, I tend to get invited. I finally managed to make it to the release party for their newest fragrance, Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay. Say what you will about the fine people of Jo Malone, but know this: they do throw a pretty lovely perfume release party.

The event started with the group of attendees being provided blackberry lemonade for sipping and personal blackberry tarts in to-go boxes  and little jars of blackberry jam for us to enjoy at our leisure. We sat in a small group, talking about early remembrances of scent and our experience of the line under the coordinated prompting of the regional training specialist. We were given different scents in the line to try along with a brief description of Jo Malone's history as a company. When they finally came around to producing the scent we were there to meet, they started by passing out fresh blackberries to the crowd along with fresh bay leaves. We were asked to crush the berries on our tongue and describe the way the fruit tasted, then to tear the bay leaf, and after a few sniffs, do the same.

Then out came Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay, which Jo Malone describes the scent as follows:

Vibrant. Verdant. New Blackberry & Bay. Inspired by childhood memories of blackberry picking. A burst of deep, tart blackberry juice, blending with the freshness of just-gathered bay and brambly woods. A scent of innocence. An irresistible collection to savour.

The immediate opening of Blackberry & Bay is more bay leaf than blackberry. The immediate berry aspects coming through is the tart aspects of the berry crushed immediately on the tongue. This part of the scent is interesting. it's fresh without being too light or overly fruity like so many more mainstream scent takes would be on a similar perfume effort. Unfortunately, it doesn't stay in this tart, fresh place as long as I'd like it to. Like the real fruit, it bursts into sweet fruit, and while still slightly tart and green thanks to the bay leaf note, those aspects become side players in the scent, the kind of character actors you wish would come back to steal the story from the supposed stars.

Now don't let me undersell you on the fruity part, because it is very nice. I just wish the tart and green bits were stronger. My biggest beef with the middle to end of the scent is the musky base. It is a little distracting, like the sound of a low radio from another room. Which is too bad, because the fruit part is lovely. As fruity scents go, I can attest that it is surprisingly realistic. The scent is realistic, robust, dare I even say, supple? Go back a moment to the experiment from the experiment from the scent release event -- berry crushed on tongue while torn bay leaves waves under the nose. Honestly? Thanks to the immediate fruit-in-mouth to scent-on-arm comparison, I can tell you they did a pretty good job.

On the whole? I really like Blackberry & Bay. But more than that, I needed it. Fall is late coming here in Oregon. It's been hot, dry, and sunny for far too long for my tastes. I was out watering the lawn today, trying to keep my plants alive, and could not believe it was already October. October! It is the time of leaf peeping and corn mazes and caramel apples and carving pumpkins. It should not feel like summer as the leaves begin to change, but it does. The last golden light of summer. And while I crave a scent that says "Fall," it needs to be a whisper. It needs to evoke Fall without invoking cashmere sweaters or very hot drinks or crackling fireplaces. I needed something that said Fall in the same way that Dar Williams "End of Summer" is about both endings and transitions into something new.

So if you, like me dear reader, think the best time of year for rebirth is the season of 'death,' the moment that gold goes down to grey, then I submit Blackberry & Bay as a terrific scent for this liminal moment of transition. Me? I bought a bottle.

My frequently mentioned partner in crime, the Kate, decided on a whim to come with me to the event, and it was nice to have someone there who wasn't a 'perfume' person because it provided me some additional perspective on these events. I asked Kate to give me a little feedback on how she found the event as someone largely unfamiliar with perfume and with Jo Malone as a line. Her general response?

OMG. I'm eating a pastry that I smell like. I may not be a perfumista, but I endorse this lifestyle.

And as for you, dear reader, I have not forgotten you. I did not tell you this story of fancy food and drink and perfume to show you all I have that you cannot. Nope. I believe that good things should be shared. And while I can't make the delicious lemonade and berry tart appear at your home, I can provide a sample of Blackberry & Bay and a CD for you to enjoy.

She remembers the nights he’d come calling,
his yellow silk tie.
In love, she saw him falling for her in the fire of July.
Then one day as the nights grew longer,
blackberry winter in a little white church
stood a young pretty bride...
~ "Forever Changed," Carrie Underwood

So! Leave a comment to enter, any comment at all, and I will pick TWO WINNERS! That's right, two winners. Twice as nice.

Winners will receive a copy of my Fall 2012 Mix CD and a sample of Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay (and probably a couple of other scents). Comment by Monday, October 8, 2011, 11:59 PM PST! Open to U.S. and International readers.

Jen says.

Short Fiction Inspired by & A Review of Demeter Fragrance Library Dregs

Jen is standing on the trunk of Cal’s car, and he is really pissed about it. Jen doesn’t care. Three sheets to the wind on some of the foulest red wine I have ever had the misfortune to taste, Jen needs a platform for her latest magnum opus, a free form poem entitled, “Why Rivers Cuomo is a Total Douche.”

Jen says Rivers is a sexist pig, and if you don’t believe her you can read that Sady Doyle piece that proves it. Jen says she already knew everything Sady said, like way before Sady did, but that’s okay, Jen still loves her anyway.

Jen says she can see the skepticism on my face, and I try hard not to roll my eyes at her as she stumbled over to point to the exact location of said skepticism. Jen says it’s somewhere around my eyebrows. Cal tries to persuade Jen to come down, but she isn’t fooled by his faux concern that she might fall and knock her teeth out.

“Stop crying about your car,” Jen says, and Cal winces as the broad trunk of his ’69 Pontiac GTO, which he spent most of the summer and every penny he made mowing lawns painstakingly restoring, flexes under her weight as she stomps around. “You’re such a materialistic bastard,” Jen says, cackling. “This is no longer a symbolic representation of your masculinity! I appropriate this giant phallic instrument in the name of the oppressed! This is the Peoples’ car!”

Cal stares at the ground, really regretting that he agreed to buy us booze with his fake ID. I can’t say I blame him.

Jen shakes the bottle in my direction, offering me more of the foul wine. I can see crap floating around in the bottom of the bottle, and I shake my head at her with a grimace. Shrugging, Jen throws her head back and drinks deeply from the bottle. When she pulls it from her lips, her mouth is red ringed, like a kid with a grape popsicle.

All the sudden, I see a flashlight moving fast in our direction. Cal panics, and tells Jen he knew he shouldn’t have listened to her when she suggested we drink in the high school parking lot because it’s the last place anyone would think to look.

Jen says Cal shouldn’t be so uptight as she launches herself at him, half-jumping and half-falling off the trunk. Cal catches her right before she hits the ground to prevent her from landing, as expected, face first. Cal pulls her upright and suddenly they are almost kissing. I blush and turn away, wishing I wasn’t there.

A voice calls out “Hey you!" and we all recognize it as the old school security guard, Stan. "Stan the Man," Jen says giggling, and pulls away from Cal, who stands frozen in place, arms still wrapped around the space Jen occupied. The fog is so thick it creates a barrier between Cal’s car and Stan, but as soon as he sees the distinctive Pontiac, we’re all doomed and we know it.

Jen says, “Come on, Cal,” throwing open the passenger side door and flinging herself into the back seat. Cal and I spring into action on her command, running for the open door. He jumps in and slides across the seat and I follow, barely pulling the door shut when he guns the engine, tires squealing against the asphalt as we pull away.

“Do you think he saw us?” Cal asks, and I shrug. If so, I know we’re screwed. Cal is a nice guy, but he’ll fold like a house of cards if they ask him who was with him tonight. It’s too bad, too. If he was the type to lie, Jen probably would have kissed him.

Jen says nice guys finish last, and with her, she means it.

Jen wraps her arms around my neck from the backseat, and I pat at them as she sticks her head over the seat between us. An old Jane’s Addiction song comes on the radio, and Jen mumbles along, making up her own lyrics to make the song about her. I laugh as she sings loudly in my ear, ignoring the off-key parts and the nonsensical words she adds because she’s too drunk to think of real rhymes.

“You’re the best, you know that?” Jen says, planting a wet kiss on my cheek. Cal can barely keep his eyes on the road. Waves of jealousy reverberate off him and into me and I feel angry at Jen because she always says that, and I know she doesn’t really mean it. Not with Cal; not with me.

“I love you,” Jen whispers, resting her head sleepily on my shoulder and closing her eyes. I can feel her breath against my cheek, and the foul wine smell on her breath should repulse me, but it doesn’t. Like everything else about Jen, I think it’s weirdly beautiful.

“I love you, too,” I mutter, resting my cheek against her forehead.

Jen doesn’t say anything.

I wish she would.

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.

Yesterday away from you, it froze me deep inside.

CB I Hate Perfume In The Summer Kitchen and Wild Pansy

I have a couple of job interviews coming up. I'm nervous, and...cautiously optimistic. I'd like to think one of them is going to help me find some direction soon, but I don't know for sure.

I've always been a driven person. Always known what I wanted, always preparing for the next step even as I'm finish up the one I'm on. These last few months I've read through every professional guidance book I can find, met with two difference career guidance offices more than once, and yet here I am, still struggling to make the next step, to commit to a path. It was easier without anyone else to consider, but I'm older now. I've got a partner to think of, and four cats who I love a great deal and who I would never abandon after saving them from a life without love or a home. From youth's perspective, so much of adulthood looks like self-betrayal and compromise.

From my now more middling age, I see that it's not about compromise. It's about choice. You make choices, every day, about what's important to you. I could get in my car tomorrow and walk away, but I choose not to. Because I love. Because I have a home and a family now, and I don't always have to be running, all the time. I choose to be anchored. And once you recognize that, you become more at ease with the in-between spaces. So for now, I live in-between and I explore my options, especially the ones that allow me time to enjoy being with my family.

For someone who scores off the charts as risk avoidant on personality tests that assess risk aversion, it's a strange and sometimes anxious place to be.

Now, on to the perfume.

You better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone...

DSH Perfumes Festive

Despite this being part of DSH's holiday scent line, and despite my happiness at the arrival of Spring here in the PNW, it got cold and wet again today, so I drove back into my inter samples to get a few more in before it seemed seasonally inappropriate.

Festive is a 2000 Holiday Fragrance from Dawn Spencer Horowitz's Parfums des Beaux Arts. According to the Parfums des Beaux Arts website,

This spicy green scent will put you in the Holiday mood! This not-too-heavy holiday fragrance is warm and sexy enough for parties, but is light enough for daily use…to make any day a holiday.

Composition -- Top notes: Spice Notes; Middle notes: Fir Needle, Spruce; Base notes: Incense Notes, Sandalwood.

I really enjoyed Festive. My immediate impression is of the smell that unscented, melted candle way smells. It has this slightly sweet, oily smell, that I find deeply pleasant, but then I was the kid who liked playing with candle wax whenever a strong thunder storm and attendant high winds knocked out the power. As I struggled to put my finger what I found unique and desirable about Festive, the first two comparable scents that came to mind were CB I Hate Perfumes In the Library and CB I Hate Perfumes Fire From Heaven. Comparing them to one another, Festive is slightly sweeter and has more medicinal and fir tree qualities than In the Library. Compared to Fire from Heaven, Festive is more fleshy in quality than fiery/smokey. It's sweeter, in a warm and yet floral way, than Fire from Heaven. Fire from Heaven, by comparison, is more acrid, making Festive far more comparable to In the Library, despite the similar flame-y themes.

Around the two hour mark, where In the Library smells light beige, like the faded pages of a book, Festive smells...blue. Light blue. I don't know how else to describe it. It's like the flame natural gas makes when it burns...blue and sort of cold looking, but it isn't cold, it's warm, and lovely and still sort of sweet in a way that In the Library isn't. Blue like a blue spruces are blue, light an undercoating of blue that is salty like sea salt and clean like nuzzling a well-soaped neck. Around the three hour mark, In the Library and Festive are still distinguishable, but less so. I'd say at this point they are more similar than different, which I think is a good thing.

This is a beautiful scent. If Fire From Heaven reminds me of the incense they use on Catholic High Holy Days, then Festive reminds me of the smell of taper wax that I've held and smelt and prayed over at so many events marking days of celebration, sadness, or remembrance -- from funerals to holiday celebrations to protests to vigils for sexual assault survivors or Iraq war veterans or soldiers and civilians that died in war or hundreds of other heartfelt/breaking causes. So when I smell this scent it reminds me of all the times I've stood in prayer and solidarity with other activists. Maybe not a "festive" mental image per say, but definitely a heartfelt one.

And I have to say, it's strange to write this review just days after the establishment of what is arguably the largest and most comprehensive entitlement program since the New Deal. While I have mixed feelings about the way this all went down, and tend to agree with those feminists and activists who feel that this step forward comes at the cost of a huge step backward for reproductive freedom particularly for poor women, I am nonetheless pleased that domestic violence victims will no longer be denied coverage, that children, who make up the largest segment of the uninsured population in this country, will have expanded access to health care, that lifetime caps will be illegal, that preventative care will not require a co-pay, and a host of other improvements will now be law. So my joy is tempered with some sadness, and the hope that feminists will see this as a call to put their representatives on notice that we expect to see the repeal of the Hyde amendment and other efforts to make abortion prohibitively expensive end in our lifetime.

While I am pleased that pregnant women who chose to carry their pregnancies to term will have greater access to health care for themselves and their children, I don't believe that creating an environment where someone has to carry a child to term because they cannot afford to terminate (particularly when financial hardship might be the very reason they are seeking to end the pregnancy) is any kind of choice. I also have to say that I was sadly unsurprised that House Rep. Neugebauer, who yelled "baby killer" at Rep. Stupak as he voted Yea on the bill, was from Texas. One more reason to be thrilled I no longer live there and one more sad moment of commentary on the state of discourse regarding reproductive freedom in America. Whatever my feelings toward Rep. Stupak are, and trust me when I say that he fills me with ill will, he doesn't deserve that. But then, that's my point, really. No one deserves it, particularly not women making the hardest decision they've ever had to make. But I digress...

Also, there are a number of ways this isn't a completely comprehensive bill, which I think is worth noting only so we can keep in mind that there are still improvements to be made. Again, all that nay-saying aside, I really am thrilled about the bill passing. It's a huge accomplishment, particularly for Democratic Party leadership, who have been working on a comprehensive health care solution for decades. It's proof positive that times really are changing.

Wow, that got all unexpectedly feminist. Guess I can't help myself. <grin>

You can buy Festive from DSH perfumes in a variety of forms -- EdP, perfume oil in a pulse roller, and in a shea body butter.

"Come senators, congressmen,
please heed the call.
Don't stand in the doorway.
Don't block up the hall.
For he that gets hurt,
will be he who has stalled.
There's a battle outside
and it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
and rattle your walls,
for the times they are a-changin'."
- "The Times They Are A-Changin'," Bob Dylan (You can listen to the song here)

Want more reviews? Try...
~ A review from All I Am - A Redhead

And when she's pressed, she will undress, and then she's boxing clever...

Washington Tremlett Black Tie

Things have been busy this week here on the Hill. I guest lectured yesterday at a local University on “Feminist Jurisprudence and Reproductive Rights,” which went pretty well. Last night a birthday party for Kate, today a wedding open house at a local vender with another friend, doctor’s appointment, and then the aforementioned presentation with Angela from Now Smell This! at the Lewis & Clark Gender Symposium. I’m also swamped with job application stuff, which seems to all be due this week or in about 10 days. I really hope something comes of all this, because I am so ready to go back to work.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking perfume all day. In fact, I’ve been working on our presentation today in between appointments and applications, so I’ve got lots of perfume-y thought rolling around up there. In fact, I’m so focused right now, I’ve got David thinking about perfume in the shower. Also, at the party last night, Jill told me, after I sprayed her with Etat Libre d'Orange Jasmin et Cigarettes the other day, she wants to buy it now. < taps fingers together Dr. Evil style > Ah, exxxxxxxxxxxxcellent.

So, on to more perfume conversion efforts.

I pulled the following descriptions of Washington Tremlett Black Tie, from First-in-Fragrance and Luckyscent:

Black Tie. A bloomy bouquet, which rises in a heartnote, to perpetuate in a rich basenote of precious woods.

Washington Tremlett is the company famous for inventing the seven fold tie and for being the official supplier of Duke of Windsor, and so it is very fitting that they would create a fragrance honoring the timeless elegance of their designs. However, don’t expect Black Tie to be a conservatively traditional composition. In fact, it is wonderfully modern, if not avant-garde. Lovers of saffron in perfume, prepare to be wowed! The note is without a doubt the most prominent player in the composition and it is rich, sweetly-spicy, absolutely exquisite. The rest of the notes serve as an elegant background worthy of the precious star ingredient. Galbanum and geranium highlight the brightly aromatic aspect of saffron, whereas rose, tuberose, patchouli and vanilla make the note luxuriously soft, serving as a counterbalance to the mouthwatering sharpness of the spice. The base of woods, patchouli and vanilla, with lingering traces of golden piquancy of saffron is the most delectable skin-scent we have ever encountered.

Composition: Description -- Head: Saffron, Nutmeg, Galbanum, Sage; Heart: Rose, Geranium, Tuberose; Base: Sandalwood, Vanilla, Patchouly, Musk

Immediately I get nutmeg and rose, then the geranium comes in, giving this an interesting water-y smell. I don't mean aquatic in the sense of the perfume family. I mean that I've traveled and lived all over the US, and while the taste of cold clean fresh water is a little different from place to place, there's this unifying taste of freshness, and that's what I get some of here. It also reminds of the smell of high quality scentless lotion. Even scent free items always seem to have some scent, and this captures that for a moment in a weird way. It would be wrong to say it smells like nothing; it's not an absence of smell. Instead it smells like...purity. It smells the way ivory wedding dresses with no sequins, beads, bows, or bedazzling are supposed to convey love, or the way a perfect white rose petal would feel brushed against your face. But with this little astringent edge. I get basically none of the base yet, but it's only been about 30 minutes. Eventually, like hours later eventually, I got a little bit of sandalwood, but Black Tie didn't change much over time. Overall, though, it's a nice effort. Robin at Now Smell This! recommends it for warm weather wear; I'll have to try it again this summer. Also, I see lots of blogs mentioning "saffron" in their reviews, and maybe it is because I am too used to saffron in a cooking context, but I just don't see it. I hear this one was designed as a masculine. I think it would wear well either way.

You can buy Washington Tremlett Black Tie at the aforementioned Luckyscent or First-in-Fragrance for in 100ml for $160. It's a nice scent, one I'd enjoy having but don't know that I *need* to own (unlike Royal Heroes, which still smells sort of like banana bread and spices to me and thus makes me really want it). It's really lovely though, and if I happen to land a job that pays me super well over the next year, it could certainly end up in my collection. If you wanted something with rose in it that isn't super rose heavy, this might be a nice one to try.

"A friend in need's a friend indeed.
A friend who bleeds is better.
My friend confessed she passed the test
and we will never sever.
Day's dawning...skin's crawling...
Pure morning... pure. morning."
- "Pure Morning," Placebo (You can listen to the song here)

Want more reviews? Try...
~ A review from Robin at Now Smell This!
~ A review from Sorcery of Scent
~ A positive mention from Perfume-Smellin' Things
~ A review from Would Smell As Sweet

And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China...

L'Artisan Fleur d'Oranger 2007

Fleur d'Oranger is part of L'Artisan's limited edition Harvest Series. Released in 2005 and then again in 2007, L'Artisan describes it as follows:

Once upon a spring, the flower of the orange tree blossomed as never before in the fresh, green, honeyed atmosphere of the Nabeul orchards.

A suave, delicate perfume, with very feminine tones, reminiscent of the intoxicating scent of the orchard at the end of a day's harvest and the almond sweetness of oriental pastries.

Fleur d'Oranger is beautiful and strange. The citrus is so light it seems evanescent. It's more about spice and a bitter edge, like an orange rind that has been cured in salt and pepper. What is so interesting is that this isn't sweet or spicy in the way most scents are. It isn't overtly masculine or feminine. It doesn't smell like anything else. I've tried it several times, in different seasons over the course of a year, and this one still baffles me. Other reviewers have used words like "light," "airy," "gauzy," and "almost ethereal." I'd say all of those are right on the money. When I first tried this, I really had no use for it. Now, a year later, it seems...more complex. It's like being able to see subtle differences in color or taste subtle differences in food that one couldn't when we were younger or less experienced of the world. After about half an hour I get more citrus from it, but it still floats above the skin for me, separate, apart, chaste and beautiful. The sweetness gives it a little hint of tea like notes on me, but very gently.

I see the beauty and complexity of it, and while I appreciate having tried it, and would probably appreciate a small sprayer of it (say 8-10ml decant), I am truly flummoxed for when I would wear it. Quite honestly, none of my daily goings on seem appropriate for this. Marie-Helene said in her review for The Scented Salamander

This is a fragrance for aesthets, people who like rare perfumes and appreciate the idea of wearing a vintage. In final analysis, buying it might constitute more of a powerful vote for a way of life than for the scent itself, which is more like a subtle trace, since it is not a perfume centered on the wearer and meant to magnify him or her but rather meant to celebrate the beauty of orange blossom captured from a field in Nabeul.

I think this might be dead-on. This definitely is a scent that seems like artistic endeavor, and I applaud it as a unique effort. Certainly if I found myself in a "lottery winner" type situation, I'd buy a bottle just for the sake of having one.

You can only buy Fleur d'Oranger in 100ml for a whooping $295. Luckily, if you want it, despite being an LE, you can still get it all over: direct from the perfumer, high end departments stores, and online from Luckyscent, Beauty Encounter, and Beauty Habit. But if you can't handle the cha-ching and still want to try it, you can get samples from Luckyscent and The Perfumed Court, as well as larger decants from The Perfumed Court.

"Now, Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river.
She is wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters.
And the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour.
And she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers.
There are heroes in the seaweed. There are children in the morning.
They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever..."
- "Suzanne," Leonard Cohen (you listen to the song here)

Want more reviews? Tons available for this one. Try...
~ A review from Robin at Now Smell This! (note: review is of the 2005 edition)
~ A review from Bois de Jasmin
~ A review from Perfume-Smellin' Things
~ A review from The Scented Salamander
~ A review from Sakecat's Scent Project
~ A review from He Smells, She Smells
~ A review from Fragrantica
~ A review from Sakecat's Scent Project
~ A review from Pink Manhattan
~ A review from Perfume Shrine (note: 2005 edition)
~ A review from Scent of Abricots
~ A review from Invisible Magnet