I'm going back someday, come what may...

Well look what happened there. I promised you a week of New Orleans-themed posts, and then I disappeared. Sorry about that. Chalk it up to a recent unpleasant ongoing ability to keep my head above water. (No pun intended.) Now, shall we get back to NOLA scents as promised?

Yes. I think so.

So let's talk a little more about Lagniappe Oak Perfumery. Though Jazzelle is my favorite, it only barely beats out a few other scents in the line that I feel deserve a little Gulf Coast love.

One is from the Renaissance Florals set. Sweet Olive is described as "Southern magestic [sic] charm" is described as follows: "This ancient floral is a mystical mélange of Gardenia, Honeysuckle and Magnolia with a dash of Apricot."

First of all, I love the use of the word mélange. I don't know why. It just rolls off the tongue nicely. Say it: Mélange. FN1.

Sweet Olive is a sweet floral, but not overly fruity. I do get a little apricot, but on me the note isn't overly strong. I've tried it several times, now,, and this scent seems particularly weather sensitive. There are days where Sweet Olive lies on my skin like a kind of edible flowers and fruit flesh flavored candy (usually on cooler days), but on hot days like today it has a supple green quality, like fat glossy leaves and velvety flower petals reminiscent of the touch and feel of both gardenias and magnolias. The honeysuckle takes a backseat to those two big white flower notes, which sort of duke it out for prominence when the thermometer hits 80+ F. Don't let that fool you, though, there is a nice green note that arises from the interplay that is vaguely olive to me, though more toward the olive grove than to the edible olive end of the spectrum. On the whole, quite charming, and I think feels light and youthful.

Another fav, this one from the Heirloom Collection, is Lilac and Lace. A "romantic floral of yesteryear," Lilac and Lace is described as follows: "Known as the 'Blue Persian Jasmine' for its spicy, ethereal perfume of the past. Lilac represents the first emotion of love in the Victorian language of flowers."

Do you like a good soap lilac? How about one that smells like your at a spa, and you just finished a mud bath so you have this vague scent of rich mud still hanging around you, and now you're getting a massage in a room lightly scented with lilac oil while you occasionally sip at a thick espresso with just a hit of chocolate overtones? If that sounds good to you, then you've hit the jackpot with this Lilac and Lace.

My only complaint about these two is that the EdT on both is on the weaker end in terms of length of time on the skin, capping out at four hours. If I were going to purchase either, I'd probably splurge and go for the parfum spray.

Books & Movies

Dear reader, if you haven't read Chris Rose's 1 Dead in Attic, you are missing out one of the most heartwrenchingly beautiful pieces of nonfiction writing in the last decade. Seriously. This is the insider's account of Katrina, the before, middle, and hope for an after. I've read it twice, and I could read it again and still find new ways to be both heartbroken and hopeful.

In the same theme, I'm going to recommend Trouble the Water, the 2008 documentary film produced and directed by Tia Lessin and Carl Deal. It is a truly moving insider's look at Hurricane Katrina, and won the grand jury prize for best documentary at the Sundance Film Festival.

For an almost overwhelming, but more completist view of Katrina, its aftermath, and the opinions of those deeply involved, the history of the levees and more, you can't beat Spike Lee's When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts. At 255 minutes run time in four parts, it is best viewed over a few weeks. I saw it as part of a lunch series hosted over 5 weeks at my law school, followed by a discussion of the ways in which the law had failed the people of Louisiana and how we might be able to help use the law to make the region whole.

For a documentary that focuses more on the environmental devastation, I recommend Hurricane on the Bayou, a 2006 documentary film that focuses on the wetlands of Louisiana before and after Hurricane Katrina, and demonstrates why wetland restoration is needed for the survival of every living thing in the region.

And last, but perhaps most tear jerking, a documentary about the untold story of animals facing Hurricane Katrina, Dark Water Rising: Hurricane Katrina Animal Rescues. Whether we are talking about terrible wildfires burning trapped herds of cattle alive in the west, or the abandoned and neglected pets in the wake of the housing crisis, we should never forget that suffering isn't limited to humans in times of catastrophe. FN1.

NOLA songs of the day

Two personal favorites. First, "Blue Bayou," by Roy Orbison. (I also really love the Linda Ronstadt rendition.)

Second, in honor of Lilac and Lace, I offer you Nina Simone's "Lilac Wine." Like "Blue Bayou," it doesn't reference NOLA in specific, but in my mind, or more appropriately, in my heart, both belong there, notes winding their way along the back streets with the smell of warm white flowers blooming, unseen, but everywhere.

Keep checking back for more scents related to sweet New Orleans, along with music, movies, and a drawing in this homage to that sweet city that dwells in the warm lowlands of my heart.

Until then, laissez les bon temps rouler!

____________________________________

FN1. Are you saying it? Good. Now we're both talking to ourselves, and I have company in my insanity.

FN2. My cat, Papaya, a frequent model on this site, was a rescue from Riverside, California during the housing crunch. When I adopted her, she was the size and weight of a 5 week old cat at 10 weeks of age, had a bad chest infection, and was so severely dehydrated she could not cry. She was part of a litter from a mother cat who had been abandoned by her owners when they lost their home, and as the runt, Papaya simply was not getting enough to survive. I am pleased to report she is now a healthy, happy two year old and possibly the most spoiled cat I have ever owned.

And I dream of magnolias in June, and I'm wishing I was there...

A week of scents, music and movies in honor of New Orleans

Speaking of smells, let's talk about some NOLA-ish scents, shall we? Some of these scents merely remind me of NOLA, some are from perfumeries based in NOLA proper, and some are scents created by perfumers inspired by NOLA.

First up, I'd like to talk a little about Lagniappe Oaks Perfumery, sold via the website of sister company Bourbon French Parfums. Bourbon French Parfums has a shop located on Royal in the French Quarter, originally established in 1845 by August Dussan. The LOP line, sold there, focuses on scents that capture the spirit of the region.

There are three separate sample set you can order from: Jazz Ensemble, Heirloom Collection, and Renaissance Florals, which provides you, for ~$40 a set, a purse roller (~10ml) of the EdT formulation of each scent in the collection. FN1.

Rather than review every single scent in the collection now, I'm going to highlight a little something of each collection.

From the Jazz Ensemble set, Jazzelle is described as follows:

 Provocative & Passionate, Jazzell is orange blossom and rose hips, dusted with cinnamon and then drenched in Belgium chocolate.

I love Jazzelle. Of all the Lagniappe Oaks scents I've tried, this is in heavy running for my favorite. You know how sometimes a scent can be astonishing? How it can surprise you when you think you've smelled it all in some form or another? Jazzelle is like that. Jazelle has heavy food notes, and yet does not read as foodie at all. The chocolate is a thick coating of dry warm dust mingled with warmed cinnamon reminiscent of the exterior of a rich truffle, and when joined to the light floral aspects, becomes ethereal. Jazelle is sweet but not powerfully so. It has an open air quality, as though you are wandering through a market and catches snatches of the notes until they blend together at the edge of your olfactory understanding.

When I wear Jazzelle I feel like I am bring surrounded by a suit of armor made of a spun sugar frame and filled in with tiny flowers. I feel it around me. It has a presence, and it seems to swirl invisibly in the air around me, being large and palpable, but without being intimidating or necessarily powerful. It's not an aggressive scent; that's what is so impressive. It has a looming presence, but in the way faint light can soften and deepen darkness, or or the way a soft whisper can be louder and more profound than a scream. It is the memory of a soft caress, soft puffs of sweets floating into your French Quarter garden from the bakery across the street. Proof that big is not the only kind of beautiful, that sometimes less is really more.

In a single word: beautiful.

Jazzelle has low to moderate sillage and lingers on my skin about six hours.

You can get an entire ounce of Jazelle parfum for a mere $41.00. For $61.50, you can get the bath gel, powder, lotion and 1.3 ounces of EdT. For those of you who like solid perfumes, Jazelle is also available in that form as well, though this review is of the EdT.

In a world where marketing makes up the cost of most commercial scents and you can wind up with a lot less value for your money, this is a true winner. Buy Jazelle direct from the perfumer here.

Book and film recommendations

Starting with the realm of young adult world, I have not one but TWO recommendations for you, dear reader. The first is the Beautiful Creatures series by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. Now, these books are not technically set in Lousiana. They're set in Gatlin, Georgia. BUT! The film adapation of the first book is currently being filmed, and it is being done in and around New Orleans. The books are some of my very favorites in the YA genre. The world of Beautiful Creatures is peopled with complicated and interesting characters, and the cast for the film is sure to bear that out. (Two words: EMMA THOMPSON. Also, Alden Ehrenreich, Alice Englert, Viola Davis, Jeremy Irons, Emma Thompson, and Emmy Rossum.) If you love any/all things southern gothic, I really recommend the books. The last in the series of four, Beautiful Redemption, releases October 23, and the first film is anticipated in Spring 2013.

The second book is a riskier, darker effort in many ways, particularly for lovers of New Orleans. Darkness Becomes Her (Gods & Monsters, #1) by Kelly Keaton envisions a future where a post-disaster New Orleans has been abandoned by the United States, and exists as a place beyond our borders. New 2 is a town without a country, a land that rules itself. Filled with magic and mystery, New 2 holds many secrets, including the secret behind Ari's personal history.  Dark as futures for NOLA go, but truly, also an interesting dystopian possibility.

NOLA songs of the day

I have two songs today, both representations of the ongoing difficulties the area has had struggling to survive circumstances of geography in the face of an often indifferent and deeply bureaucratic world. the second, sadly, will not embed, but I encourage you to head on over to youtube to take a listen.

First Up: Randy' Newman's "Louisiana 1927"


I love this song, not because it is positive, but because when I hear it, I have *ALLTHEFEELINGS.* If art is meant to move you, than this song is art. There is so much sadness and resignation, so much weariness. If you can imagine people feeling down-trodden, this song will speak to you.

Emmylou Harris - New Orleans

This song is sort of the flipside of the first. It is a defiant, hopeful song. In the face of people who would see NOLA and her people fail and fall, some people remain defiant. This song is for them, and for their indomitable spirit.

My Lord how the rains came down.
The waters made a mighty sound,
when the levees broke that day
washin' all those souls away[...]

Bring it all, fire and flood.
Fill the rivers up with mud.
To cut and run, ain't in our blood.
We are New Orleans.

So, baby, let the life roll on.
The blues were made to make us strong.
We're walkin' in a brighter day,
And nothin' can get in our way.

The whole world stood to watch us drown
but we took it to a higher ground.

It takes more than a hurricane
to empty out the Pontachatrain.
Long ago we broke the chains,
in New Orleans, New Orleans.

When Brother Bill and Sister Nell
are singing like a ringing bell,
then you'll know all is well
in New Orleans, New Orleans.

Keep checking back for more scents related to sweet New Orleans, along with music, movies, and a drawing in this homage to that sweet city that dwells in the warm lowlands of my heart.

Until then, laissez les bon temps rouler!

_____________________

FN1. For those of you new to perfume math, it goes like this: 4 scents, 10 ml a scent, is 40ml of perfume for $40, which breaks down to ~$1/ml. This is better than you'll find in most sampling programs ($3-4/ml), and gives you a variety of scents to keep, gift, or swap, depending on how they land. That's a pretty good deal, 'fume speaking.

The feeling's getting stronger each day I stay away...

A week of scents, music and movies in honor of New Orleans

(Ed. note: I had already been working on this series, but in light of Hurricane Isaac pummeling NOLA today, on the seventh anniversary of one of the worst disasters in American history, I'm moving forward with it beginning today.)

I've been thinking a lot about New Orleans lately.

Okay, that's a lie. I think about New Orleans all the time. Is it strange to long for a place you knew only once and briefly, like a love affair that last only a few hours but has stayed with me all my life? That's how I feel about New Orleans.

 When I hear a singer croon, "Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans, and miss her each night and day?" I have to say, with an emphatic breathless strain, "Oh yes!" Maybe stems from my Gulf-focused upbringing which included so many trips to Bolivar Peninsula and the small moss-covered towns of deep East Texas I lost count. Maybe it is that the smell of those waters and trees haunt my dreams, thick and pungent, like a veil draped across each memory. Maybe it is that New Orleans has become a symbol for everything good, bad, and ugly about growing up in those wooded swamps, and the older I get, the easier it is to focus more on the rich history and music and food and less on the visceral experiences of living there, which was mostly bad for me. Whatever the reason, Naw'leans, ya'll, it calls to me -- the siren song of a lost love, the lingering regret of the road not taken.

I recognize not everyone feels like this. Over lunch a few weeks ago, someone I know was criticizing my beloved City of Saints, and I balked. He complained it was a crime-ridden, cramped, hot, damp, nightmare, with mind-boggling roads full of strip clubs and drunks. As far as he was concerned, the only thing worth having in sweet NOLA was the food.

"I think a lot depends on who you go with and what they're interested in," I said with strained diplomacy.

"Oh," he said frowning. "I was there with a bunch of surgeons."

She dreams of NOLA, too.

While I waxed on in eager poetry about the beautiful architecture of the buildings and cemeteries, the region's rich history, soul-filling music, and hidden mysteries, I watched him push food around his plate. "It's the only place I've ever been robbed," he muttered into his pad thai.

And there it is. He will never love New Orleans, or if he does, it will be a long hard battle. Whereas, you would have to beat the love for the place out of me through of each and every one of my pores. Every time I hear a little Zydeco or eat a hot beignet or see an image of Spanish moss hanging from a live oak tree, I am seized with particular ache. And because I am lowland swamp born and bred, I have an inherent sense of certain barometric drops in pressure (which believe it or not, have a distinctive smell) and of a season that doesn't exist outside the region. We are deep in the heart of hurricane season, and I meet it each year with a sense of deep trepidation for those living in the path of potential destruction, and a perverse longing to join them in their stand against the threatening tides both real and socio-political.

I cannot go right now, not physically. It's a sad, practical reality. But in my dreams, I stroll along the muddy banks of the Lake Pontchartrain, breathing in the smell of brackish water and knotty pines, live oaks and magnolias and moss and salt and sticky air until they cling to my hot skin, clothing me in their shimmer and gleam, and I am home.

Keep checking this week for more posts related to sweet New Orleans!  Perfumes both from and inspired by New Orleans will be highlighted, along with music, movies, and a drawing in this homage to that sweet city that dwells in the warm lowlands of my heart.