Smelliness I Actually Enjoy!

My brother-in-law is one classy guy. He's a fancy-shmancy magazine editor, and travels all over the world on a constant basis, and loves my sister very much and takes care of her every need and wish and desire. And when he found out that I was going to be alone on Christmas, he insisted that I come spend the day with them, even though (a) his very-high-maintenance mother was visiting for a week and (b) I would be arriving at 2 a.m.

He and my sister then proceeded to shower me with more books than I could carry (they're both editors -- they get sent ten advance copies of things every day, and will never actually read all that stuff), plus she gave me some yarn and he gave me a gorgeous bottle of Jo Malone perfume.

Now, I am an unscented gal, for the most part. You probably know this about me. And I never buy perfume for myself because I have never been one to have money lying around for those little luxuries (when I do, I try to pay a little extra on my student loans). I've found precisely two perfumes in my entire life that I could tolerate. One was Cover Girl's Navy, and I was about ten years old, and I held my little sample vial of Navy very dear because my mother forbid me to wear perfume at such a young age (I recently found the vial while I was cleaning out my bathroom drawer in my parents' house last month -- it was fully evaporated, and I was sad). The other perfume I have ever really liked is Bare Escentuals' now-discontinued-in-spray-form Perfect Black Dress, which my sister gave me a few years ago and I rarely wear, but I did bond with another woman who eventually introduced me to my husband, because we both love Perfect Black Dress. I occasionally try Givenchy's Very Irresistible (also a gift from my sister) because I really do like the scent, but it always ends up being overpowering -- I get overwhelmed in the car driving to whatever event we're attending, and my husband hates it and gets angry that I smell different, so I just don't wear it very much.

Back to Christmas... I unwrapped this present from my brother-in-law, saw that it was a very generously-sized bottle of expensive perfume -- and perfume is such a personal gift, you really have to know your recipient's tastes like you know your own -- and was both overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness and a little bit apprehensive about having to wear a scent I might not like. I sprayed a little on my wrist right there under the Christmas tree... and to my surprise and delight, I love love love this scent. And through the whole day, I continued to love it. (Even better, my husband likes it too: he mostly doesn't notice it, which is just as good considering that he doesn't like anything that makes me smell not-like-me, but when I asked him directly, he said that yes, he doesn't hate it.)

The scent is Jo Malone's White Jasmine and Mint, which the website claims is a "light green floral" fragrance. I've always tried to steer away from florals because they tend to be too cloying to my nose. Not that I wear much perfume, like I said, but I think of myself as a person who likes the spicy spectrum of scents (and maybe a bit of citrus in the morning, but not if it's going to last later into the day). The White Jasmine and Mint has floral notes, obviously, but has woody and spicy notes as well (coriander and cardamom on top, cedar wood and vetiver underneath). And the mint is so subtle as to be almost unrecognizable at first sniff. I looked at the label after I spritzed it on and thought "really? there's mint in here?" But it becomes apparent -- in a really good, not overpowering way -- after a few seconds. And be sure to Discover the Story of this fragrance, because this is one "sensorial journey" definitely worth discovering!

This stuff is expensive. I would never buy it for myself, but I do so love having such a beautiful bottle sitting on my shelf, and I love wearing it. (Last Friday I wore it to a work dinner and I kept trying to smell my wrists -- through my gloves -- while driving. Not safe! But Mmmm! I smelled good! And it's great for daytime wear, too; I felt so grown-up and professional wearing it to work this week.) And if I ever come across another free sample vial, I will hoard it like the ten-year-old I used to be, in preparation for the day that I use up the giant bottle sitting in my bathroom cabinet.

Why hate perfume?

I first heard of CB I Hate Perfume through a friend about a year ago and was intrigued right from the start.

CB's angle on fragrance is that so many people do it wrong, why not do it right? "Right" in his book means perfume that is an artisanal product, carefully blended, subtle and powerful instead of brash and overwhelming, stylish and eccentric. The rather clunky name of CB I Hate Perfume is explained in the perfumer's manifesto.

The names and descriptions of the unconventional scents made my ears water and were music to my mouth. "Under the Arbor"? Yes please, in Tuscany, please! And "In the Summer Kitchen"? Just let me slip into my sundress! "Russian Caravan Tea"? Oh, Большое спасибо! Finally, I followed my Francophile heart and bought "Mr. Hulot's Holiday" online.

The next week, I was immediately a little disappointed upon opening the package. Inside was a sort of flimsy cardboard tube containing a squat little chemistry class bottle. I was silly to be disappointed, since Luckyscent clearly displays what you're going to get. CB says that he believes perfume shouldn't be about packaging, but for me, design is as much a spice of life as scent. Even rougher, more artisanal would have been great; slicker and more commercial would have worked, too. But to my taste, CB's design was an unhappy medium between the two.

When I applied the perfume, I was shocked and even more disappointed. My immediate reaction was, "God. Damn. This smells like one of those bright blue scented candles called 'Air' or 'Ocean Fresh' that you see at the supermarket!" Over the next 20 minutes, I calmed down a bit as the scent matured and became slightly more nuanced. It never got as complex as I had wanted it to. I never could manage to smell the "driftwood, seaweed-covered rocks, well-traveled leather suitcases and salty Mediterranean breeze" promised to me in the description. After wearing it a few times and feeling bitter about the $55 I had squandered, I got rid of it. (In fact, I confess that I regifted it to a friend of a friend! Bad form, Natasha!)

I am for sure one of those over-read, hiply-square girls. One of those young women who appreciates oddballs and rejoices in individuality, to the point that she has a bit of trouble reminding herself that individuality can be just as much of a selling point as conformity, and being "indie" is...well...pretty mainstream. One of those young women who, I am positive, make up a huge percentage of CB's clientele. But I don't think I'll fall for the flowery prose and the "feeling unique" again. Fragrance is poetry, to be sure, but poetry is not fragrance.

I'm going to stick the the world of perfumes as they are: some outrageously bad, some screamingly good. CB's attitude reminds me too much of a pretentious media artist I once knew who claimed there were only two coffee shops to get decent espresso in the United States. When I want a more unusual fragrance, I'll head to Demeter, the company CB used to work for. There I can get my dandelions, musty libraries and grape leaves on for a much more affordable price.

Besides: I kind of welcome the occasional obnoxious perfume. When I was 22, I wore Anna Sui's eau de toilette, a scent I think of now as truly horrible, way too stickily sweet. But I love catching a whiff of it to this day because I think of dumb, young me in my skivvies, holding my then boyfriend on his too-small bed.

If you want to give CB I Hate Perfume a try, then sample, sample, sample. Reviews on Luckyscent and several other websites will show you how divided people are about this line. Make sure you take your own word for it by sampling at the CB I Hate Perfume studio in Brooklyn or through the website.

Fragrance Rx

A million years ago, intrepid reader poetloverrebelspy left a comment for a post wherein I gifted myself some Lanvin perfume. She wondered aloud what perfume I thought she might like. "How fun!" I thought to myself. "Like an advice column with no real problems to solve...a doctor without a sickness to treat...A matchmaker with no heartbreak!"

So I asked her to email me three likes and dislikes and I would try to come up with some perfumes to try.

Her likes:

semiprecious stones, old photographs, citrus, cinnamon, bergamot


Her dislikes:

leather pants (on anybody :), loud noises, Plax, heavy floral, chemical fruit scents (grape, apple, raspberry)


With these tidbits of preference I went thinking and smelling about, and came up with three suggestions sure to be winners. Here they are.


1.) Fleurs d'Oranger by Serge Lutens

I first learned of Serge Lutens perfumes years ago when I was a student in Paris. I was browsing the best department store in continental Europe and fell into conversation with a sales rep for Lutens's perfumes after smelling a number of paper samples. She had a rather complicated description of how his perfumes are so pure and refined and like silk on your skin, etc. etc. I listened politely and complimented the collection, but of course everything was way too pricey.

If I was a fine-perfume-and-fine-wine collecting type of girl and had a decent job, I would happily pick up something from this line. Whether or not you like a particular scent here, you'd be forced to agree that they are exceptionally well blended and thoughtfully balanced. Furthermore, the bottles are quite elegant, even if the type is slightly too frou-frou.

Assuming, dear Poet, that you are up for a splurge, do try Orange Flowers! It is incredibly warm and enveloping for a citrus scent (a good mix of the cinnamon and citrus you say you like). This perfume also starts out with a floral burst that quickly settles down into the rest of the mix, like with Rumeur. It is feminine without being the least bit cloying, like a perfectly tailored A-line dress. Go and read this lovely review by fellow perfume-loving blog, Perfume and Tea Make Me Happy (me, too!). It might well convince you that this hundred dollar treat for the senses is worth it.



2.) Bulgari's Thé Rouge

This perfume wins major points from me for daring to be different. It's a pretty ballsy little thing, don't be fooled by that delicate leaf decoration on the front of the bottle. Inside is a perplexing and original combination of fragrance notes: Pink Pepper, Orange, Bergamot, Red Tea Accord, Fig Pulp, Walnut, and Musk per Sephora's website. No strong floral overtones here.

I think Poet will like it because it's a little earthy and a lot eccentric, with a splash of bergamot to top it all off. At half the price of Fleurs d'Oranger, it suddenly looks like a bargain, right?






3. Heather by Demeter Fragrance

I. Love. Demeter. Nowhere else can you indulge your perfume whims for such a reasonable price. It's important to know that these perfumes are not the kind that will linger on into the evening; they have an alcohol base that fades quickly. You'll need to reapply somewhat frequently, but on the upside, you'll never reek. And luckily, their bottles are small enough to fit into a normal-sized purse or bag.

When I think semiprecious stones, quiet and old photographs, I think of Yorkshire. The moors, covered in heather. Ever-changing weather, a distant, beloved brooder and a lady's flushed cheeks. Gothic romance, in short! Perhaps you'll want to put a little bit of all that on your wrists.



There you go! By all means, Poet, write back and let me know exactly what you think of these perfumes if you decide to give them a sniff!

I'd be happy to do other prescriptions: just drop me a line with three of your likes and dislikes at pufferyblog@yahoo.com.

Perfume review: YSL's "Elle"

It's officially Christmastime in Paris! Well, according to the commercial sector, at least. I don't know who tipped the French off to the "anything goes after Halloween" rule, but tinsel and candy canes started appearing in stores promptly on November 1, just as they do in the USA.

All of the Sephoras and their equivalents have begun pushing the new perfumes introduced this fall. And I mean pushing. There are a ton of gift package combinations on sale. Testers not only sit neatly in line on the shelves as usual, but are also strewn around the stores like hand grenades on all sorts of makeshift pedestals. Scent advertising has been plastered all over the TV and the métro for the last couple of weeks, too. Spritzkrieg!

All of this perfume abundance prompted me to test drive Yves Saint Laurent's Elle, a new scent introduced this October. Elle (which you all know means "she" in French) also has her own website, where the fragrance is described as "floral and woody." Apparently the head note is composed of citron, litchi and peony, the middle of freesia, jasmine and "pink berries" (Pinkberry???), and the base of "vetiver, amber and patchouli."

Do you know what I smelled when I spritzed it on my wrist? Well, if I had to transcribe it, it would be like this:

SCREEEECH! EEEEEOOOWWWWEEEEEEEEE! FREESIAFREESIAFREESIAFREESIA EEEEEEEEE! PEONY/MUSKY! PEONY/MUSKY! SWEET. SWEET. SWEET. MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSK.

I actually sneezed after sniffing myself.

No hint of woodsiness, which was disappointing. I like a good deal of woodsy. Instead, the perfume was a clash between sharp, acidic teenager and heavy, claustrophobic rich-lady CEO that (curiously) didn't have much staying power.

I truly want to like YSL perfumes. I love the goth-y, luxurious, subtly tailored, urbane look of their clothing, Parisian to the hilt. I wish I could find a scent in their offerings that captured that look and transformed it into a smell. Alas, I always have the same problem: to me, YSL perfumes smell like mutton dressed as lamb. And I can't think of anything less alluring and edgy than smelling like a rich woman of 67. Elle is no exception.

Although I've decided that this perfume is a Do Not Want, I must compliment whoever was in charge of its marketing. It perfectly captures the aggressivity, the shrillness, and the bombastic qualities of this scent. (Side note for architecture dorks: the commercial is filmed inside Jean Nouvel's Institut du Monde Arabe!)

Anyone looking for a nice cocktail of scent "infusions" and "complementary tones" should look elsewhere. With the pink bottle and elongated shape, Elle may be posing as a Cosmo but she's really a vodka shot of some flavor of Absolut. With a Red Bull chaser.

As if that analogy weren't enough, I made a little diagram for you. I love perfume and I love diagrams, so this will be the way I end all of my reviews--so much more informative than 1-5 stars, don't you think? So behold, these are what I think of as the perfect wearers of YSL Elle:

Christmas!

In what is already shaping up to be an awful week, there have been 2 bright spots and both are related to Christmas.

1. We purchased our plane tickets to go home for the holidays.


2. Bob and is back! Along with all of its other holidays-only treats, LUSH has reintroduced Bob!

It's spice-y and citrus-y all at once. I love cinnamon/clove mixed with fruit. It smells great on me. It's a weird shade of green mixed with orange that will turn your shower water a dirty brown but! It smells so lovely and leaves you nice and clean. (And the little bits of gold glitter will not stick to you.)

It's time to make a trip to Georgetown and stock up for the year ahead.

Also check out the champagne snow showers. Very yummy. I love that it's out in a solid perfume. Still wintery, but a lighter fragrance than my normal Chanel No. 5, which is a little heavy for day wear.

I love the fragrance and this was only out in shower jelly last year. Those are weird because why would you want to keep something in your fridge? I'm sorry, but am I the only person who's refrigerator is at the opposite end of the house from the shower? But whose bed is really close to the shower? When I'm all clean, the last thing I want to do is trudge back downstairs to put my shower gel back in the shower. I want to curl up in bed.