Let the only sound be the overflow.

Ane Walsh's Essaouira EDP

Dear reader:

Here's another weird, formative experience water story.  I met my second boyfriend, with whom I had a whopping total of one date in our whole six-ish months of "we go to different high schools and only talk on the phone" dating, at a water park. FN1. Jim, last name now long lost to the annual of time, I remember only four things clearly about: he was cute; he was a football player (only one I ever dated); he had thick southern accent; and he chose me out of a passel of girls I would have bet good money at the time were all prettier, more interesting, nicer, and better with boys than I was.

This last fact might be the most remarkable, dear reader, because that was the summer that I turned, seemingly overnight, from a pauper to a princess. Seriously. I don’t think a single boy had ever so much as glanced in my direction before that summer. FN2. Then, all the sudden, it was like someone had done a makeover montage set to music, waved a fairy wand over my head, and Bam! Instant acknowledgement.

This was a strange experience, especially for a girl whose mom had decided to take a powder two years earlier, right when I was actually starting to need a mom to explain things to me.  I had no idea what to do.  It took me totally by surprise. I mean, I was the little girl who would give her fourth grade crush a valentine at school only to find it torn up and left on my desk in a clear sign of the boy’s rejection and utter disgust. And if I will remember Jim after all these intervening years, that trip to the now defunct Six Flags: Waterworld will always stand out in my mind as a time I discovered, to no one's greater surprise than my own, that I was...pretty.  Desirable. For that, and for the extreme wedgies those really steep water slides gave me, I'll always remember, and be (at least for the slide part) grateful.

Day four of water world, scent edition, over here.  Today, I am thrilled to bring you a scent from Ane Walsh, Essaouira. The notes include "sweet orange, grapefruit, lemon, lavender, blue chamomile, saffron, coconut, Khao Yao oud, and Atlas cedar."

This is the one who smells the most like a drink of water straight from the glass to me. It is dry, which you might think is a strange descriptor for a water scent, but hey, we use the same word to describe wines all the time, and it is perfectly apt here. Dry, lovely, and really impressively realistic.

It smells almost like dried grasses or wheat, which for me means the saffron and cedar are the strongest notes, with hints of coconut and oud sweetening and deepening the scent. The sweetest notes are truly in the top here, citrus burning off within the first twenty to thirty minutes, until all that is left is the taste of really cold water dancing in my nose.

It feels so fundamental to me, it's hard to imagine wearing Essaouira for a special occasion, but I could easily imagine reaching for it over and over again during the nine months of cool, dark, wet that blesses each Pacific Northwestern winter here. Sillage is low to moderate, but the longevity is good.

If you'd like to try the entire Primordial Scent Project Water set, it's available here for $25.00.

For more reviews of the primordial water scents, try: EauMG; The Perfume Critic; Fragrantica.

Time it took us
to where the water was.
That's what the water gave me.
And time goes quicker
between the two of us.
Oh, my love, don't forsake me.
Take what the water gave me.
~ "What the Water Gave Me," Florence + the Machine
_________________
FN1. We were both too young to drive.

FN2. Okay,  I think there was one little boy in first grade, but that’s another story for another day.

I disappear in your name, but you must wait for me.

A little fiction, a birthday reflection, a giveaway, & a review of EnVoyage Perfumes Go Ask Alice

First: The Fiction

"It's tough being an Alice.

Being an Alice is about being something more. People think there's no magic in the naming of things, but those people are wrong. Plainly, dumbly wrong. Alice is more than a name. Being an Alice means something.

Some people call it a curse. Some people call it 'a touch of destiny.' Some think the name chooses you, because the universe can see the spark inside you. Some think it's the name that brings you to it, challenges you to greatness.

Me? I think asking that question is like asking what came first: the chicken or the egg? The darkness or the light? The music or the misery? 


There's no point in it. Am I an Alice because I rose to the occasion of the name, or was I christened Alice because, from the moment eyes fell on me, there was no denying that's what I was?

It doesn't matter. Either way, I am one of them. Another girl in the world, one of the strange motley army of Alices, each of us a destiny, a point of fiery potential energy burning against the bleak emptiness of time and space.

No, for me it's not so much a question being an Alice as much as it is, what kind? 


Even the plainest Alice isn't normal. She isn't average. She can't hide in the shadows or fly under the radar.  She's no wallflower or shrinking violet.  It's all there in the name. I say, you hear: Alice. Then world thinks what it wants of me: saint, sinner, madonna, whore. 


I'll never be just me. I'll always be an Alice, some extreme version of the self. The human imagination is obsessed with us, archetypically speaking. Drink me to be tall. Eat me to be small. Either way, I fall out of proportion, my dimensions at odds with the world around me.

Will I be a naive and inquisitive Alice, chasing rabbits? Will I singing songs with the mothering, mean, menacing flowers and be surprised by my own revolutionary acts? Will the powers of the world call for my seemingly none-too-bright head?

Alternately, there's psycho Alice, a more recently embraced archetype. Will I be blood-thirsty and wield kitchen cutlery like accessories, their blades agleam with the reflection of my wild eyes? Will I try be strong and fight against those that would abuse or harm me and, in turn, be thought of as callous, murderous, a fiend?

And still, there are more choices: 

•  Alice, the innocent, respectable and strangely silent in her woodcuts? She faces the unknown with her hands clasped demurely behind her back, as though she cannot forego the social grace demanded of her station enough to prepare for what might come next? 

• Alice, the increasingly lost sensualist, a strange girl led down a bad road by a confusing drug trip, an escapist lost too soon who is only trying to feed her own head? 

• Alice, the Lolita, too big for her tiny girl clothes and the object of inappropriately-aged lust and affection? The kind that inspires her own mythology more because of the perceived effect she has on a man than who she is as a person?

• Alice, the warrior, her hardness offset by the creature she holds, implying both protection and threat? Is she here to help the rabbit, or help herself to rabbit stew?

When you're an Alice, the world will tell you which roles you get to play. It doesn't matter that the only Alice you want to be is you. The name says everything. 

 So you tell me: who do I get to be today? You kidnapped me, stuck a bag over my head, dragged me here. Now you claim its just for an introduction, but you knew who I was when you came for me. You already knew everything there was to know.

After all,  you knew my name."




~ ~ ~

The Review: EnVoyage Perfumes Go Ask Alice EDP

First, to the perfume. Then to the ranting:

Go Ask Alice is a wonderful scent, particularly for the Spring days growing warmer here. If you like patchouli, I cannot imagine you won't like this scent. If you think you don't like patchouli (I didn't when I first got into perfume), I challenge you to try this one. I'm still a little on the shy side when it comes to the mean green patch, and consequently I sometimes weed out scents that list it as a strong note.  Go Ask Alice is a unusual take on patchouli and one that challenges (me, at least) to reconsider where a focus on patchouli might lead to scent love.  Go Ask Alice was also the first-place winner of the prestigious Martha’s Vineyard Islander’s Choice Award, so you can feel confident it's not just my nose that loves it!

Shelley Waddington, perfumer extraordinaire, describes Go Ask Alice as a "unisex oriental-amber."  Go Ask Alice "con-temporizes the theme of the 1967 Summer of Love, a time when young Americans protested the Vietnam War, sold flowers, smoked pot, and trailed clouds of patchouli, and raises it to the level of a classy, wearable, and versatile perfume.” 

It has top notes of California orange peel, bitter orange Caribe, bergamot from Calabria, Sri Lankan black pepper, and orange flower laced with fresh raspberry and strawberry; heart notes of patchouli leaf tincture, mimosa blossoms, and rose absolue; and base notes of vintage patchouli Sumatra, sandalwood deux, cocoa, vanille, tonka, labdanum Spain, balsam Peru France, and beach-washed ambergris.

What I like most about Go Ask Alice is that, thanks to the patchouli-centered event it was developed for, it isn't an overly sweet or spicy "oriental-amber." It smells of amber, sure, but it also manages to be fresh and green, mildly herbal, pretty and softly sweet. Though it is a unisex and could be worn well by anyone, I find it deeply feminine. Donna at Perfume-Smellin' Things called it "silky smooth" and I agree with that assessment. Moderate sillage, so it was work safe for me and go lasting strength (~6 hours.) You can get .5oz of the EDP for $45.00 or .25oz of the parfum for $65.00 direct from the perfumer.

The mood of the scent is intended to be one of "joyous adventure," and I can certainly say that Go Ask Alice makes me feel pretty damned happy when I smell it. And that's good, because it's been a tough, sad few weeks here at Camp Wienergard. FN1. Which brings me to Part 3 of this post....

~ ~ ~

The Ranting

Sometimes life has a way of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it. Some days are great. The sun shines, the birds caw, you sit in the warmth, feel the soft grass and warm sand under your bare feet and you think, "Things are going to be okay."

Other days are not like that. Other days you recognize, with a chilling clarity, that there is a good chance this is all there may ever be, just varying degrees of this, sun up to sun down, until there isn't another day.

If you're lucky, that is. If you're not, then someone may slut shame you in the national press for talking about birth control as hormone therapy. Because in case you've been living under a rock in the last two weeks, then the word you are most likely to associate with Georgetown Law student Sandra Fluke is "slut." Rush Limbaugh led the charge against Ms. Fluke, calling her a slut and a prostitute as he stated plainly that she merely wanted "you and me and the taxpayers to pay her to have sex." Then he suggested Ms. Fluke could repay the debt by posting pornographic videos online.

Despite this intense harassment and shaming, Ms. Fluke says she'd do it again. She'd stand alone, the only woman allowed to testify before Congress on the issue of whether religious charities and schools should be required to provide insurance coverage for birth control pills along side things like Viagra, if only so a woman's voice could be heard in the tizzying din that is the discussion of our bodies.

“It can be overwhelming at times,” Ms. Fluke told TIME from Los Angeles, “but what I am trying to focus on is my main goal in the situation, and that is continuing to advocate on behalf of women affected by the contraception regulation and making sure that policy is implemented in a strong way.”

Sandra Fluke makes me feel proud to be a feminist, an activist, and a fellow law school survivor.  I fronted a statewide choice campaign while I was a 1L to beat back a parental notification bill here in Oregon (we won), and the reactions I received to my own abortion story being (literally) front page news pales wildly in comparison to the horrible crap being slung at Ms. Fluke.  She has my deepest respect and admiration.  She is, in my view, a kind of superhero.

How does this relate to Shelley's amazing perfume or the fictional monologue I started with?

I've been trying Go Ask Alice scent over and over in the last few weeks, and it is impossible to try the scent without thinking about the pop culture calls to its name.  There's the Jefferson Airplane song, "White Rabbit."  There's also the popular work of fiction (though initially presented as a real diary) Go Ask Alice.  Both are inspired by Lewis Caroll's Alice in Wonderland, which has inspired other songs as well as film adaptations and video games.


As I was trying the scent, I kept trying to decide which of many representations of Alice it most reminded me. While I was wandering around, ruminating on the various and sundry Alices, people vying to be the leaders of my country were seriously debating whether or not women's contraception should be legal.  And, because I'm me, this all became intensely intertwined in my feminist brain.

When I think about the Alices, it is hard not to draw parallels between their fictional variations and the archetypes the world is most comfortable with for women.  The most recent Alice in Wonderland remake by Tim Burton tries very hard to create an Alice whom, by her nature, means to confound expectations.  She is wildly different from the original Alice of celluloid, whom Disney made a revolutionary by virtue of accident, not intent.  My personal favorite is American McGee's Alice from the incredibly dark video game, a girl so twisted by the dark things that have happened in her life she makes it all the way through a return to Wonderland only to find the evil she seeks to destroy is the darkness in herself.

Awesome and brave
reproductive rights protester
at the Virginia State capitol.

But despite all these Alices to choose from, I never really found one I could relate to the scent.  When I asked myself why, I realized it was because I loved Go Ask Alice enough that I wanted to wear it myself. And I am not a two-dimensional character. I am a real woman, flesh and blood. I'm not a protagonist.  I'm no heroine. I didn't want to associate the scent with one of the Fabled Alices because I feel the scent is some  wearable part of me, and that isn't a cultural archetype.  It's a real person.

And as a real person, lately I've just been overwhelmingly preoccupied by how you have to pretty much be a G-D superhero to be a woman in the world at all, even if you don't feel like one.  Just to take it - the threats, the smears, the snears, the violence that is both dangerously outright and insidiously implicit - and still feel any sense of self-worth or pride? It is a miracle.  Every day.

To be slut shamed for talking about reproductive rights and insurance coverage for BCP as though it is an important part of healthcare for over fifty-one percent of the world's population, and probably ought to be covered accordingly. To accept that your elected officials want doctors to be able to lie to you about birth defects in the fetus growing inside you.  That if you get pregnant when someone rapes you, you should just "make the best of a bad situation," and no, that doesn't mean terminating the pregnancy.

As Libba Bray succinctly put it today: "Seriously, ladies, we better get our shit together and mobilize. The war on women is not just a catch phrase." Or to quote the lovely and talented Beth Revis: "I am continuously boggled by how what I often perceive to be equal rights is labeled as radical feminism."

A War on Women is happening right now, and all I could think about was how we, like the Alices, are an army.  We won't be stopped.  We won't be silenced.  And we are going to take and maintain control of our bodies, ourselves, whether you like it or not.

The Drawing

So who wants to try some Go Ask Alice? In honor of my birthday, which is today, I'm giving a sample away because I had two and I'm ordering some, as well as a few other samples.  Winners will also receive: a couple of mixed CDs of music that helps me feel strong, an issue of Bitch Magazine, of which I am a proud member of the Board of Directors, maybe a feminist button, general feminist-y whatnot.


To enter:  post here by 12:01 AM PST, Friday March 16, 2012. Say anything you like.  Open to everyone, both domestic and international.

________________
FN1. When my husband and I were planning to get married, Wienergard was the joint name highly recommended joint last name meld suggestion from my students at my old job. They even threatened to crash my reception wearing t-shirts that said, "Reconsider Wienergard." These would have been the follow-up to the first round of shirts that said, "I Heart My Wiener" with a photo of me on them. I still have one.

I said, Doctor, is there nothing I can take?

Perfume Challenge Week 38: Monday, 10/3/11 to Friday, 10/7/11

This week I bring you five scents from Amanda at Esscentual Alchemy Natural Perfumery, a line of scents that are 100% natural with modest sillage and longevity. She describes her line as follows:

When I create a perfume I do so intentionally. Being mindful of putting myself in a positive and loving, and uplifting emotional place. So that the perfume is positive, loving and uplifting emotionally as well. Each one blessed with good thoughts and wishes for the wearer.

Good thoughts and wishes? Sign me up.

First up, Queen of Punk - The Queen of Punk is a dirty girl. A dirty, dirty girl. Notes: Civet, Tobacco, Patchouli, Amber, Cognac, Rose, Coffee, Linden Blossom, Bitter Orange, Black Pepper, Mimosa.

In my life, I've known two kinds of punk girls. I've known fairly butch punk girls and I've known these surprisingly feminine punk girls who would smile sweetly at you while the ripped the nose ring right out of your face. Queen of Punk belongs to the latter. Queen of Punk is a surprisingly light 'dirty' scent. I get a healthy dose of fat wet patchouli leaves in the opening, but they are not too heavy, which makes this scent a nice surprise in the world of patchouli scents, which tend use a heavier patchouli. The civet is subtle, blending seamlessly with the cognac and coffee. I don't get a lot of the floral aspects beyond the linden blossom, and the black pepper kicks me in the nose like an aftertaste. A very pretty, decidedly feminine scent for such typically heavy notes, which is indivicative of how well made it is. 3.5 of 5 nods.

Mint Ginger Truffle - Chocolate Mint Ginger asks you to drizzle on some Chocolate Mint, and then later sniff again, and you've found the Ginger Center! Mmm...a little scented truffle for your nose. Notes: Chocolate, Mint, Ginger.

A very light gourmand, just insanely light for the spunky mixture of notes. The chocolate is faint and powdery on me, putting the mint and ginger to the fore. The ginger is tangy, as though you were sucking on fresh ginger root shavings. The mint provides a freshness to the scent without making it all about the mint or reading as some terrible mint-flavored gum or syrup mess. If you like desserts that aren't overly sweet or foodie and tend toward the fresh or spicy, I recommend this. 3 of 5 nods.

Lumberjack Man - This sultry cologne combines smoky tobacco, leathery labdanum, musky agarwood, sensual ylang ylang, spicy ginger, fresh lime, bitter wormwood, savory saffron, zesty black pepper, warm and floral rosewood, blend into a rich, and warm, yet crisp cologne, that is loved by both men and women. Notes: Tobacco, Labdanum, Agarwood, Ylang ylang, Ginger, Lime, Wormwood, Saffron, Black Pepper, Rosewood.

Dear reader, if I said Lumberjack smelled like a lumbar yard, would you think I was wimping out on you? It does though. And also vaguely of Home Depot, but minus the chemical fertilizer smell. In other words, if you like wood scents, you'll like this. Lumberjack is a strong, spicy wood with strong ladbanum aspects, it reminds me of what I would expect the Log Lady in Twin Peaks to smell like when she's chewing her pitch gum. 3 of 5 nods.

Autumn Spice - Woody myrrh, sweet sandalwood, earthy patchouli, the sweet spices of cinnamon and nutmeg, freshly floral lavender, the rich citrus of a blood orange, and the sparkle of bergamot are all arranged in this perfume with a delicate touch. Notes: Myrrh, Sandalwood, Patchouli, Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Lavender, Blood Orange, Bergamot.

Autumn Spices wears on me like a comforting friend. Mostly showing up as a sandalwood and spice blend, it has manages to be autumnal without feeling like a rehashing of the 'holiday' scented candles you find everywhere this time of year. One of the ways Autumn Spice manages is this is by using an unexpected base. Instead of going to the old autmunal stand-bys of heavy woods, smokey tobaccos, or sweet vanillas, it flourishes in a lavender and bergamot base, giving the scent an unexpected undercoating that reminds me of the scent of old books. If fall to you means back to school and late nights in a library cramming for tests and researching papers while drinkking gallons of herbal tea, this will smell *exactly* like those memories. 4 of 5 nods.

Fun fact: Autumn Spices is worn by Camryn Manheim, star of The Practice, a show demonstrating some heinously unscrupulous lawyering in thepursuit of roller coaster dramatic storytelling. I watched it for the latter, and still cringe at the memory of the former. Manheim is really talented and terrific in The Practice as Ellenor Frutt, though. She was also on The L Word and is now back on law t.v. in Harry's Law. I heart her.

Lime in the Coconut - This lime and coconut perfume might make you hungry...This smells like a delectable cream pie, and everytime I smell it, it makes me hungry first, and then makes me want to bake pies! Notes: Key Lime Hydrosol, Toasted Coconut Tincture, Lime essential oil

"You put the lime in the coconut, and drink'em both together, put the lime in the coconut, and then you feel better..." Sorry, had to get that out there. Love the song (even have the t-shirt), love the scent. A wonderful and realistic lime with a warm gently sweet coconut base.  What is so impressive is that I've tried coconut heavy scents and lime heavy scents and this is the most realist scent I've never had.  It's a unique and interesting blend of notes I've ever encountered in scent.  My only wish is that the sillage was larger, but I could definitely wear it in my scent sensitive workplace, so if you need light scents, this is a great one. 4.5 of 5 nods.

She put the lime in the coconut, she drank 'em both up
Put the lime in the coconut, she called the doctor, woke him up, and said
Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take, I said
Doctor, to relieve this bellyache, I said
Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take, I said
Doctor, to relieve this bellyache
~ "Coconut," Harry Nilsson

Scents generously provided by the perfumer. Images from Esscentual Alchemy except for the t-shirt, which is from Zeusandhera thanks to Creative Commons.

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.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Bellatrix Perfumes Titania

Bellatrix Perfumes Titania

The first Midsummer scent I bring you comes from the lovely Ankica Milic of Bellatrix Perfumes.

She provided me the following to reflect on as I sampled her scent, Titania:

Out of this wood do not desire to go:
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state;
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I’ll gve thee fairies to attend on thee,
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

Notes: Rosewood, Pink Pepper, Mentha peperita, Tuberose, Rose damascene abs., Neroli, Iris, Labdanum, Violet leaf, Orris butter, Sandal album, Angelica root, Ambrette, Oak moss, Patchouli.

What a lovely choice of words for an artistic meditation. I believe, on this passage alone, I could plan an entire lovely summer wedding. Titania’s woods are in many ways like love itself – once ensnared, it is a place one not only cannot leave, but does not wish to flee, for how sweet are its tender entrapments!

The scent, then, to me is less a mediation on the Queen of Fae herself, than on that blessed and magickal place that lives in our hearts, the haze of love that feels like the moment between sleeping and wakefulness. A drowsing dreamy state, where one might feel the gentle press of hands and gentler kiss of brow and cheek, and even in that unconsciousness, sigh for the happiness of it.

In that respect, Ankica has done her material a turn considerably more than fair. The scent is one that eyes closed and listening to Shakespeare’s words, might conjure in one’s mind images of the characters venturing into the woods that fateful night.

I cannot say that it is much like anything else I have tried, though I see some similarity to both strongly woody scents and some nerolis. The opening is full of pepper and menthe, which quickly retreats and folds strongly toward rosewood, oak moss, and patchouli. Violet leaf lurks, and rose as well. I give Ankica true credit for managing such a gentle patchouli. Usually it is a note so overwhelming I have to struggle to catch anything else. I do not get any iris, sadly, but I do not find it a loss here.

To give a sense of the scent beyond my own expression, let me give some other comparisons. It has some in common with Dana English Leather, but it less sharp featured and masculine than this cousin. Compared to Jo Malone Orange Blossom, Ankica's scent is less flowery and sweet and more of smooth wood, more inclined toward Fair Titania's hidden home than she herself. It is not so green as to share any relation to Roxana Illuminated Perfumes GreenWitch, though the Queen of Fae be both green and bewitching. It is very lovely, and makes a truly sweet scent for this project.

I hope Ankica will make it available when she chooses to launch her line. I’d like to own it. It fills a hole in my collection I did not know existed until I smelled the scent. And in this respect, it is quite like finding love when for love one seeks least.

That may be Titania and Oberon’s greatest trick here, and it is a good one.

To see more visit A Midsummer Night's Dream: A Perfume Event, running June 14-24, 2011.

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.

And when you kiss me, I'm happy enough to die.

Jo Malone Orange Blossom

Let me say right now how good it is to be open-minded when it comes to perfume. For example, after trying L’Artisan’s Fleur d'Oranger 2007 and not finding it all that fascinating, I just didn't think I'd be that into orange blossom/neroli scents. Nice, but nothing I was wild about.

Then I was in the mall the other day and, on a whim, I got a generous 2.5ml sprayer sample of Jo Malone Orange Blossom. Jo Malone describes Orange Blossom as follows:

The scent of clementine leaves in the morning dew sparkles above a heart of orange blossom and water lily, transporting the wearer to a garden oasis.

In the intervening ten days, I’ve used up the whole sample. This is remarkable for a number of reasons. One, I have hundreds of samples, so it’s rare to reach for the same sample more than one use at a time. Two, it hasn’t been all that hot here, and I generally think of orange blossom as a warmer weather scent. Three, I honestly did not think I liked orange blossom scents at all.

And yet, I am so taken with Jo Malone’s Orange Blossom. The initial application is just as lemony bitter little thing, it quickly grows sweeter in an orangey way, which is so delightful! Where Fleur d'Oranger 2007 is this wispy, faint scent that seems more about being an embodiment of aesthetic than a real scent, Orange Blossom amplifies all its good qualities to become this wonderful presentation of flowers on orange trees, gentle and sweet and warm and light and a little bitter, but strong enough to be real and yet simultaneously complimentary to the wearer. Its both orangey and lemon-limey, but not in a fake cola way, and less bitter or salt and peppery than Fleur d’Oranger 2007. It both stands alone and warps to accentuate the wearer at the same time, and wears well at both low 60 degree weather and high 80 degree weather. I can imagine it being worn equally by a young woman in a polo uniform, cap, pony tail, and knee high black riding boots on her champion pony and by a young woman wearing a red and white checked shirt with rolled sleeves, Wranglers, and well-worn cowboy boots who washes down stalls as part of her weekly chores. It seems to flexible to fit any kind of woman, from high class to working class, and yet is just strong enough to stand on its own.

Even now, as I write this while sniffing at what is left of my sample on my hand, I still am truly shocked by how much I like it. I mean, Jo Malone, while well-made, is really not supposed to outshine a L’Artisan limited edition scent, particularly one that costs a 3x the price. But Jo Malone has won my heart. It’s true. And though I honestly thought I wasn’t all that into anything orange blossom based, here I am clamoring for a bottle. And this, dear readers, is a great reminder that you should never rule out a scent based on what you’ve thought of others with similar notes. It might be the one that wins you over. In my case, it certainly opened the door to more experiences with neroli/orange blossom scents.

"There’s a ghost in my lungs
and it talks in my sleep,
wraps itself around my tongue
as it softly speaks.
Then in walks, then in walks,
then in walks with my legs
to fall, to fall
to fall at your feet."
- "I’m Not Calling You a Liar," Florence + the Machine
(You can listen to the song here)

Want more reviews? Try...
~ a review from Ayala at SmellyBlog
~ a mention from EauMG

And the world spins madly on...

Jo Malone Pomegranate Noir

I've started making a list of all the things I have to do/do every day in an effort to remind myself that I am actually getting a lot of stuff done. It's easy to feel, when you are unemployed, like you are just spinning in place all the time. This list is an attempt in my own tiny way to ensure that I, in the immortal words of General "Vinegar Joe" Stilwell, "don't let the Bastards grind [me] down." (FN1) Today that included consoling a friend and giving a girl from China a driving lesson. Tomorrow...taxes.

A big thank you, first off, to Ines at All I Am - A Redhead for the sample of Pomegranate Noir, the first of my Jo Malone scents. According to Jo Malone,

This sophisticated scent was inspired by a red silk dress and the intriguing character of pomegranate. Pomegranate Noir combines the sweet fruity notes of raspberry, plum, pink pepper and pomegranate with patchouli, frankincense and spicy woods to create a scent that’s sensual, totally sophisticated and utterly compelling.

"Utterly compelling." I could say a lot for Pomegranate Noir, because it's really beautiful, but "utterly compelling" really says it all. One of the most remarkable things about Pomegranate Noir is its tartness, which I find very appealing and equally rare in my perfume travels. It is delectable in a realistically juicy way, and the patchouli notes give it a green earthiness that make it seem like fresh fruit right off the tree. I've tried it several times now, and I just can't get enough of it. It's so good I'm sort of fixated. I suspect Spring 2010 will forever be imprinted in my mind with Pomegranate Noir.

In the world of pomegranates, this is probably pretty close to my ideal. This is one of those times where, now knowing that one scent exists, you can't, in good conscious, recommend a scent with similar notes. In a world where Jo Malone Pomegranate Noir exists, why would anyone wear CK Euphoria? Pomegranate Noir is fruitier and louder and less soft, powdery and pink, so I guess that could be a reason. And I can see how if you liked one and it wasn't quite right, you might try the other. That said, as pomegranate scents go, Jo Malone's is vastly superior. It has clarity and focus. It's clean and accessible. CK Euphoria becomes a muddle mash; Pomegranate Noir stays strong throughout. That said, if you like pomegranate but don't like tang or dirt, then you might prefer CK Euphoria. Euphoria certainly smells less girl next door, ironically, and more hip girl in a suede sweater dress. But then, I guess I'm more of an every-girl type.

You can buy Pomegranate Noir in 30ml for $55 or 100ml for $100 direct from the perfumer, Neiman Marcus, Bloomingdales (which also currently includes your choice of a sample of either Jo Malone Orange Blossom or Nectarine Blossom), and Bergdorf Goodman. Bergdorf also has a lovely Jo Malone sample box that includes 9ml of Pomegranate Noir and would make, I think, a lovely gift for anyone with an interest in perfume, from newb nose to expert fumehead. Pomegranate Noir is also available in a variety of forms, including bath oil, body creme, body lotion, shower gel, and various candle products.

"I let the day go by.
I always say goodbye.
I watch the stars from my window sill.
The whole world is moving and I'm standing still.
Woke up and wished that I was dead,
with an aching in my head.
I lay motionless in bed.
The night is here and the day is gone
and the world spins madly on..."
- "World Spins Madly On," The Weepies
(You can listen to the song here)

Want more reviews? Try...
~ a review from Robin at Now Smell This!
~ a review from Perfume-Smellin' Things
~ a review from the Scented Salamander
~ a review from Bois de Jasmin
~ a review from Indie Perfumes
~ a mention in Chandler Burr's essay, "The unbearable lightness of scent"
~ a review from Sweet Diva
~ a review from Heapnose
~ a bevy of user reviews from Fragrantica

________________________________________________
FN1 Though I was originally familiar with the phrase from the chorus of one of my favorite U2 songs, "Acrobat." Bono cites the track as one of his favorite U2 songs, too. [Stokes, Niall (1996). Into The Heart: The Stories Behind Every U2 Song. Harper Collins Publishers. ISBN 0-7322-6036-1]

Maybe we make a deal. Maybe together we can get somewhere...

Leslie Blodgett Perfume Diaries Bare Skin EdP

I was wandering around Sephora the other day while a friend, Jill from Pearl Sugar, was looking for new make-up. While browsing around the standard perfume choices (and schooling one of the employees on their own offerings) when I stumbled across the first offering from Leslie Blodgett's Perfume Diaries line, Bare Skin. I liked the packaging and description and was intrigued, so I sampled away.

Here's what Sephora has to say about Bare Skin:

Imagine you're on a beach. The warm rays are beating down on you. There is nothing on the agenda for days, save for sunbathing and sleeping in. Leslie Blodgett has captured the ultimate vacation th rough fragrance with this intoxicating blend of creamy sensuality, dreamy florals and sexy musks. Glowing, gorgeous sun-kissed skin that just begs to be touched is at the heart of this limited-edition scent, created exclusively for Sephora.

Notes:(top)Black Pepper, Freesia, Anise, (mid)Iris, Vanilla Orchid, Plumeria, Patchouli; (bot)Sandalwood, Labdanum, Musk.

The first thing I thought when I tried this was, "Wow, this is surprisingly complex...and good!" It stars sweet and spicy, then it balances with a bit of pepper and oil, like the smell of a supple and well-oiled leather seats of an expensive sports car with the windows rolled down and the smell of vanilla and flowers in the air. After the dry down I get the sandalwood and labdanum, but faintly at first, then growing stronger. Mostly I get a lovely spice and oil mix that reminds me a bit of Caron Tabac Blond.

This scent would make an excellent scent for a man or a woman. When I smell it, I think of something much more expensive than you'd think for the price point. I get a mental picture of a very expensive car speeding along the beautiful cliffs of the 101, walls rising up from the merciless slams of the ocean, twisting and turning dangerously. I imagine driving too fast along the curves, windows down, music up, sunglasses reflecting the setting sun as the smells of the ocean, the leather seats, the flowers that climb the cliffs all in bloom dancing on the wind as it whips through the car. And I don't care if you're a man or a woman, that is a lovely smell and wondrous experience.

You can buy Bare Skin EdP for a mere $55 for 1.7oz from Sephora, Amazon, and other equally accessible locales. It is also available in a solid perfume and and body cream for equally low prices.

"You got a fast car
but is it fast enough so we can fly away?
We gotta make a decision.
We leave tonight or live and die this way.
I remember when we were driving, driving in your car.
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk.
City lights lay out before us
and your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder.
And I had a feeling that I belonged.
And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone."
- "Fast Car," Tracy Chapman

Want more reviews? Try...
~ a review from Beauty Junkies Unite
~ a review from Bella Sugar
~ a review from Laughing Lindsay

This could be the very minute I'm aware I'm alive

Il Profumo Chocolat EDP


I love chocolate. I do. I adore chocolate possibly more than any other consumable item on Earth. I'm not picky about the form it comes in, either. Cake, brownie, fudge, frosting, bar, chip, liquid, I love it all. I love it in all flavors -- white, dark, milk, medium dark, swirl. I love it mixed with everything, too. Fruit, nuts, spices, peanut butter, nougat, carmel, milk, graham crackers, peppermint sticks... Hell, I even love chocolate beer.

When it comes to lovely cold weather, though, I love hot chocolate. Delicious, lovely, cuddly hot chocolate. I especially love Mexican hot chocolate, which marries spices like chili powder, vanilla, cinnamon, and almonds with dark chocolate to create spicy liquid love right there in your mug. Good Mexican hot chocolate is difficult to make; I cannot even imagine how much harder it is to make a perfume that captures it's delightful scent. Luckily, Il Profumo is out there to do it for me.

According to Luckyscent, Il Profumo Chocolat EDP

is dark and sweetened with candied fruit and cocoa...think more Jailia more than Serendipitous. Spiced cocoa, opulent fruits and dark vanilla, its darkly sweet charms lie in the smooth, honey-like chocolate depths. Both dangerously seductive and eye-battingly coy, Chocolat will get you noticed, but only by those very close (in other words, those special people you want to notice).

Notes: mandarin, nutmeg, sandalwood, galbanum, cocoa, plum, jasmine, yellow rose, vanilla

Il Profumo Chocolat is a spicy, nutmeggy cocoa on application. It's got a dryness to it like cocoa powder rather than melted bar chocolate, with powdery hints of vanilla, cinnamon, and chili powder like Mexican hot chocolate. As it dries down it becomes less spicy and more balanced, improving the mixture further. This is a perfect scent for bundling up in wintry weather. It's like it was designed for the pretty kiddies in those fabulous wintry GAP ads I've always loved.



You can buy Il Profumo Chocolat EDP at Luckyscent.

"You're the only thing that I love.
It scares me more every day.
On my knees, I think clearer.
Goodness knows I saw it coming,
or at least I'll claim I did,
but in truth I'm lost for words..."
- "Chocolate," Snow Patrol

The only reviews I could find were the customer reviews at Luckyscent.

Images from Chocoholic.com featuring the wonderful chocolates from Portland, Oregon-based chocolatier Moonstruck, Azienda Infiera and Taza Chocolate.

What a knack there is to that acting like a born aristocrat...

L'Artisan La Haie Fleurie du Hameau


How do you define elegance? In the musical Hello, Dolly!, two small town yokels, Cornelius and Barnaby, from Yonkers head to the big city of New York, New York and convince a successful milliner and her assistant that they are refined gentlemen worthy of a date. When the ladies begin to doubt, Cornelius and Barnaby sing a song called “Elegance” to convince them that the boys are true gentlemen. It’s a hilarious and sweet song, but it raises an interesting question: how do we define “elegance?”

Perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena created L'Artisan La Haie Fleurie du Hameau in 1982. L’Artisan describes La Haie Fleurie as follows:

At once sublimely refined and wonderfully wild, La Haie Fleurie is a perfume of classic proportions and timeless elegance. This ode to jasmine is an exuberant and graceful bouquet, a vivid dream of a garden in full bloom. Accentuated by the white floral notes of orange blossom, narcissus and ylang-ylang, the aroma of jasmine in La Haie Fleurie is amazingly realistic. Rich, sophisticated and exuberant, a true classic!

Notes: jasmine, orange blossom, narcissus, ylang-ylang

I love this! The jasmine is so lovely in its dryness and the orange blossom balances it so nicely. You only get little hints of the orange blossom, but it's there and it is wonderful. La Haie Fleurie is this dry, and yet somehow also oily, sophisticated yet accessible. It's the perfume equivalent of the perfectly formed 'sloppy' updo, the kind with lovely little pieces hanging all around the crown, one that can be worn to a sophisticated wedding, with a little black dress and bare feet as you walk on the beach at the end of a very long, very good date, or even to a high school prom. I even think it would make a nice scent for a man, honestly. It's just so...elegant.

I'm glad I got to try it. I was a little girl when it came out, and it's been out there waiting for me for over twenty years. I'm glad it's still out there. La Haie Fleurie is proof that there are wonderful things in the world to experience, and not all of them are new. Some are just waiting to be newly discovered.

You can buy La Haie Fleurie in 100ml for $135 from Luckyscent and a number of other locations.

“We got elegance.
If you ain't got elegance,
you can never ever carry it off...”
- “Elegance,” from Hello, Dolly!

Want more? Try...
~ A review from AromaX
~ A mention from Bois de Jasmine in a nice Spring Bouquet piece
~ A little bit of love from Perfume Posse

Images from The Blushing Hostess , Doug Fahl, and L’Artisan.

Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana...

Washington Tremlett Royals Heroes 1805

Washington Tremlett, was once a famous shirt tailor and inventor of the tie in 1870s Paris. Now the name fronts for a small perfume house. Washington Tremlett Royals Heroes 1805, a scent designed by the perfumer for men, is described as "a strong, definite and authentic burst of dark bergamot with exotic deep spices, precious cedar, a hint of dark patchouli and mild tonka to create a surprising blend." Like the house name, the scent is given a historical spin as Washington Tremlett says its intended to “remind of Horatio Nelson and his "Bootnecks." For those in need of a little history lesson, the perfumer says,

Horatio Nelson had a passionate belief in his ability to become a hero. His famous naval career began in 1771 when he was only 12 years old, and ended with his death at the Battle of Trafalgar on 21 October 1805. His victories and great courage caught the public imagination, and he was indeed considered a hero, both in his own lifetime and in the Victorian period following his death.

The notes given for Royals Heroes 1805 are mandarin, bergamot, clove, anise, cedarwood, patchouli, tonka.

LuckyScent says that Royals Heroes "makes us dream of old libraries in titled English mansions, of fire burning cozily in big fireplaces, of whiskey and cigars." My Royals Heroes-colored dreams are less English nobility and more warm and delicious smells I associate with southern kitchens. On me, the anise is very strong at first but within the first few minutes quickly balances itself against the sweetness of the tonka and the spiciness of the clove. All together, the effect reminds of me of the smell of banana bread loaded with sweet spices, baking. It’s a smell I have loved since I was a little girl, one that I associate along with a few other dishes as the key to comfort in sickness or in health.

You might think it's weird to want to smell like a southern sweet bread made with the ripest bananas you can find, but it's not foodie in the way you think. It's not foodie in the way that gourmands are foodie; I don't really think of it as gourmand. But it has a lovely comforting quality to it that banana bread evokes in me, while at the same time manages to be far more sophisticated than I could ever really call a gourmand. That's no knock on gourmands. I love foodie scents. But it is rare to find a scent that smells like a comforting dessert food that anyone raised by the knee of a woman in a southern kitchen can replicate and at the same time seems appropriate to wear to a black tie event. I think Royals Heroes 1805 is a lovely scent for a woman and the kind of scent that a guy like Chuck Bass wears with sincerity and a man like George Clooney wears with a wry smile and and a dash of irony. Either way, it's a lovely experience.

To buy Royals Heroes 1805, which comes in 3.3oz/100ml bottles for $160, shop BeautyEncounter, LuckyScent, and First in Fragrance.

Work all night on a drink of rum!
Daylight come and me wan' go home.
Stock banana till de mornin' come!
Daylight come and me wan' go home.
- "Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)," Harry Belafonte

Want more reviews? Try...
~ This review from Perfume-Smellin' Things.

Images courtesy of Washington Tremlett.

A Summer of Irises: Prada Infusion d’Iris

For several weeks I've been swapping back and forth between three irises. The first, L'Artisan's Iris Pallida, I wrote about almost a month ago now. (Sidebar: Work has kept me so busy!) The second, and far more readily available, is Prada's Infusion d’Iris.

Prada describes Infusion d’Iris as follows:

As elusive and unique as the precious ingredient from which it takes its name, Infusion d’Iris fuses tradition with idealism, heritage moulded to modernity, classicism reinterpreted through originality.

Infusion d’Iris is like a dream, an Italian voyage, an ambiance, the smell of soap, the clean scent of crisp linen sheets, and naked skin. It combines classic, exceptional quality ingredients from Italy such as the Iris Pallida from Florence and the warm top note glow of Sicilian mandarin. It expresses itself through its contrast between a great freshness and apparent lightness and a type of tender veil, sensual, and strong, that envelops the body and the clothing of the woman who wears the fragrance.

Infusion d’Iris evokes an ultra feminine experience set within a world of luxury and Possibility—quintessential Prada universe.

The notes of Prada Infusion d’Iris include mandarin, orange blossom, galbanum, iris, incense, benzoin, cedar, lentisc and vetiver. The Eau de Parfum can be found at Neiman Marcus.

On me, Infusion d’Iris begins with a little bit of a back of the throat twinge, but one different from Iris Pallida. This is a tickle, as if, upon thrusting one's face into a bouquet of irises, one breathed in a little pollen and suddenly found themselves powdered as well. It is a tiny bit peppery, rooty, and even a little waxy.

On dry down, this saucy number softens a bit on me to about half its original umph. Still a little spiced, it becomes less rooty and earthy, and more sweet. It reminds me a little of the taste of candied ginger or spiced candied nuts.

Infusion d’Iris is not the indulgent, tragic super-sophisticate that is Iris Pallida, but that does not seem to matter. This effort is so entirely different it almost seems a different flower, related but nonetheless singular. To me, it is like the difference between the bored way a young woman, full of life and ignorant of her own mortality, mentally drifts away to more pleasant pursuits at a Spring funeral, while the elder widow looks at her spouse and finds herself rooted to the receding vistas of her own invincible youth. Where Iris Pallida demands gravitas, Infusion d’Iris is vivacious and lively. Certainly, everyone has room in life for both kinds of moments.

But don't take my word for it -- here's Robin's review from Now Smell This! and a review from Bois de Jasmin. Prada Infusion d’Iris is available at Neiman Marcus and also from discounters (I'd check the discounters first).