Richard Luscher Britos 38 N 16 E - Calabria or 38N16E Review

Richard Luscher Britos is a house that focuses of terroir perfumes, which are scents that paint an olfactory landscape of a geographical location (hence the coordinates in the names of the creations).  Each scent uses a single plant native to the area.  Through emphasizing the selected ingredient, they attempt to capture the society, feel, and environment of that location.  I find this very appealing.   In my wanderings I've always tied a scent to a region, and though many are represented over and over again some are forgotten.   I'm looking forward to this line expanding to include future locations and how these areas can be sculpted from regional notes.

I purchased the sample set from Luckyscent and it is adorable!  There are 5 folded squares with the title of each scent, and as you unfold each square you are treated to further description and collage-style art illustrating the notes and feel of the scent.  The backside of the square is like a collage bandana once it's completely unfolded.  I am a sucker for nice packaging and it's very original.

38 N 16 E (and I'm sorry, I was too lazy to dig around on my keyboard combinations to find how to type in degree markings) is the location of Calabria, Italy.  This region is known for bergamot production.  Bergamot has always been a favorite of mine.  I started drinking Earl Grey tea from a young age and the citrus steam cloud that used to waft out of the cup with cause me to inhale deeply over and over again until the tea was lukewarm.  There was a brief period in the 90s when The Body Shop had a bergamot shower gel.  It was amazing, smelling exactly like my cups of childhood tea.  Granted, in perfumery bergamot is usually used as a top note to the same effect, keeping you interested until it allows the heart notes to come through, but I was very excited to try a bergamot centered scent.

On first spray, I get a citrus blast similar to Acqua Di Parma Colonia.  There's a sweet citrus powder effect that I attribute to that scent, and it's lovely and summery.  The bergamot, however, sets this apart from the ADP.  It's a bit more pronounced and smells almost candied, not it a cloying manner but in a hazy heat way.  At first it distracts a bit from the bergamot, making you wonder if it's really bergamot that you're smelling or some other fruits that are combined to give the mere impression.  However, the scent has other plans for you......the bergamot's green exterior rounds out and becomes ripe and heavy on the branch.  A bit of juice and peel establish a permanent hold in the experience and it does remind me of a grove of citrus trees in dry morning sunlight.  The scent and effect of bright puckered fruit intensifies rather than recedes, and becomes slightly powdery again.  A light touch of pure white orange blossom is here,  and this sweetness with the pungency of rind is pleasant and welcoming.  The sugar in the opening has mellowed to honey, capturing the warmth of the region in a single golden drop.  Its addition is very appropriate.  This scent is not necessarily reminiscent of
a cup of tea, but just as in a cup of tea, the honey manages to enhance the flavor of the main note.  Suddenly, the juxtaposition of sweet vs sour allows the citrus tang to be more evident.   

Impressively, the citrus lingers for quite awhile.  My past experiences with bergamot in fragrances is that it can be relatively fleeting, but here, it continues to stand tall in the composition.  The pungency does tone down a bit but it's still very recognizable and makes the orange blossom seem more orange than blossom.  It's a great balance, allowing neither element to dominate in the mid stages.

The presence of sandalwood adds the barest hint of twig and formality and a very light spiced (but not spicey) incense arrives just when your mind starts becoming overly accustomed to the scent and captures your attention yet again.  The sandalwood feels a bit buttoned-up, the citizens are not heading out in shorts and tee shirts....they take the time to find a pressed shirt, which is put on after a cooling shower.  We are now headed to the center of town and through the whirl of activity, the breeze still carries the scent of citrus trees, never letting you forget where you really are.  The steady presence of bergamot remains and the mild zip of sandalwood keeps you energized without crossing the into distraction.  After the heat slowly fades with the sun,  the cooling evening air descends and scent of an airy incense retains the memory of warmth from the day.    

This fragrance took me a bit by surprise.  When I initially read that it was centered around bergamot I figured it would be like any number of short lived summer colognes,  but it's a bit more concentrated than that.   It has a longer life than the majority of these types of scents, and though it has all the right traditional element it also holds a twist of modern life existing in a long-held standard.  It's unisex and I can't think of anyone who couldn't wear it beautifully.

I love that this scent did indeed transport me mentally to an infinitely more pleasant climate in the middle of winter.  It's an elegant casual fragrance that had me yearning for wine on a patio overlooking a warm and dry landscape, and that always appeals. 

Zoologist Perfumes - Panda review.

Panda is part of a trio of scents from niche house Zoologist Perfumes.  The creative mind behind the house is Victor Wong, a scent enthusiast who decided to take his love of animals and create a line of scents that captured the animals' interesting and sometimes playful behavior.  Panda along with the other scents from the collection Rhinoceros and Beaver,  have all made quite a stir on the perfume scene, and I am really happy to say that they've all made quite an impression on me as well.  It's not very often that a scent feels 'new' to me, but maybe that's the beauty of having a scent created by a working 'mortal'.  There are no hard rules to follow or previous lessons in scent cluttering the creative process, and sometimes that results in the most intriguing and pleasant works of olfactive art.

Panda opens up in a gorgeous blast of a very cold green tea note and the light sweet green of bamboo. There's a plate of a sliced, very cold, fresh from the garden cucumber which may be the zisu leaves.  I usually hate cucumber, so I'm suspecting that this surprisingly beautiful impression is being created by zisu......and I love that it's part of the opening.  Zisu, also knows as perilla, is an herb typically used as a culinary spice or medicinal herb in China, Korea, and Japan.   Here,  it adds a cool, herbal , almost water-like mint tone.  I definitely get the sensation of a dense bamboo thicket by a cool stream, with a light spring breeze blowing through the upper leaves.  Nothing else is visible for awhile through the thick greenery and you sit, calmly waiting while being surrounded by serenity.

In a short while, a citrus notes glows through the stalks.  It's quiet and peaceful and slightly warms the fragrance so that it feels like a delicate aura.  I get the sichuan pepper,  adding its bite to the cool notes.  The feeling is akin to the sharp sensation of biting into a raw green pepper....you're momentarily taken aback until your senses get used to it, then you find it pleasant and return to experience that same small initial rush, until it becomes enough a part of the composition to be a faint reminder of spice.  The florals in this scent start blooming early on,  but are slow to build as they slowly unfurl through the layers of other notes.  They take their time so that when they're fully apparent it takes you a minute to realize they were there all along, seducing you slowly with their fragrant white petals.  A hint of mimosa is apparent and orange blossom adds an ethereally sweet thread.  The osmanthus lends a lovely, bitter black tea feel and the impression of fuzzy apricot skins.  There's no smoke or spices in this teapot, it's an almost perfect rendition of how loose, unadulterated, dry black tea smells, and i'm enjoying the dry cold aspect that it lends to the composition.  It feel cool and put together, yet refreshing and approachable.  It's a beautiful foil to the green and balances the sweeter floral element perfectly. 

Now the tea element increases in intensity while the dirt fades.  The leafy enclosure opens up a bit and invites a mild touch of wood and grassy vetiver to join the notes.  I feel like it adds a buoying effect to the relatively strong top notes which are still very present.  It's a great reflection of the entire bamboo plant itself, and how the root systems of bamboo are so thick that it gives the effect of walking on a system of wooden springs.  There's a slight 'leather' element, I attribute this to the osmanthus.  I"m grateful that the cedar is this scent is relatively subdued.  Cedar can really overtake a scent but here is is a quiet whisper threading through the base.  The extension of this fragrance over the next few hours is a gorgeous swirl of osmanthus, greenery and a soil-like musk that lasts and lasts.

Panda is a great name for this scent.....I feel like it represents the panda perfectly.  And what I love is how I become the panda in this scent rather than someone standing by as an observer.  I want to be in the bamboo grove, chewing on leaves and taking advantage of the shaded haven and the forest lives on outside of my hiding spot. 

I have been looking for a scent like this for awhile.  I love the scent of tea, but most 'tea scents' and spiced and sweetened and made into something I would get as part of a dessert.  Much of the world enjoys their tea at all meals and without spices and sugar.  This scent is exactly that.....a palate-cleanser that cuts through all of the excess perfume noise in my closet.  It's a 'reset' scent, one that is detectable but restrained and takes me back to a beautifully composed center.  It's highly original and absolutely one that I want to purchase.  Thank you, Victor Wong, for created such a beautiful, tangible scent space.

Reviewed from my own sample which I purchased myself.

The Bargain Bin Monday Series: Eau De Cartier Zeste De Soleil Review

When I started on my perfume journeys, I was haunted by the overspraying and pervasiveness of 'commercial' scents, so when I got 'serious' about perfume (whatever that may mean), I was very insistent on only wearing niche and hard-to-come-by fragrances.  However, there were scents that always lingered on the periphery that I recalled being rather nice, but somehow I felt that to wear them was to fold to commercial pressure.

Wrong.

Over the years I have hit a nice balance of niche, luxury, indie, and department-store scents.  I love that there are scents available for low prices online at many perfume discounters, and in some cases you can get some really good deals on niche lines as well.  So, with the knowledge that many aspiring and exisiting perfumistas are on a limited budget,  I'm embarking on a new little project.  Today I'm going to start a series that will repeat every Monday, covering fragrances that are readily available at prices more suited to a limited budget.  I've purchased these fragrances from either online discounters or brick-and-mortar discount stores like TJ Maxx.  I realized that it's important to wear what you like.  I like fragrances from all types of sources.....I can appreciate the odd or purely artistic, but sometimes I just want to wear something that smells nice, no matter where it came from.  So, onward we go!

A recent acquisition of mine is Eau de Cartier Zeste De Soleil.  I tend to like Cartier fragrances, and when I saw that this scent features a passion fruit note, I decided to blind buy a tester bottle (28.00!  How could I go wrong?).  Additional notes listed are yuzu and mint, which sounded alright to me.....I had a little bit of trepidation with the yuzu.  A few years ago, around 2006, everyone went yuzu crazy and an extremely sharp yuzu fragrance oil was showing up in a myriad of handcrafted bath products.  It used to grate on my nerves and was so strong it made my toes curl.  But, this being Cartier, I had faith that it would be done with a light hand.

The opening of Zeste de Soleil prominently features a very tangy passionfruit, unsweeted, and a dash of yuzu.  Having traveled to the tropics multiple times I've had many experiences with passion fruit, both when ripe and unripe.  This passion fruit is the fruit just before it sweetens.  The white rind is still firm and the pulp is a little hard to remove from the pith, and when you taste it your senses are overwhelmed with a slightly sweaty and sour sensation that is oddly appealing and just this side of sweet.  I'm surprised at the lack of sweetness in the opening.  With all the fruity florals running around the world right now I expected a slap of fruit punch, but instead I got fresh-off-the-tree tropical breakfast.  It feels very much like standing in a sunbeam, slowly warming to your skin and allowing your body to add its own twist to the fragrance.

There is an herbal element that now becomes apparent.  Is it mint?  Not in the traditional sense.  This is the mint leaf that you pick off the plant and chew.  It's a bit more green than cold, and it feels restrained and (should I say this?) spa-like.  The top notes blend with this green creating a wholly unisex scent.  It's a bit like a tropical Cristalle EDT,  dry and balanced.  I can see someone getting off a private jet in the Caribbean and spraying this on to refresh themselves as soon as they were enveloped by the heat and humidity of the tropics. 

The yuzu fades a bit but the passion fruit and mint continue their journey.  No other notes are listed for the scent on any site, but I get the impression of white sand and perhaps a hint of breeze through a palm tree.   There may be a touch of wood at the base but it's faint.  I like the linear quality of this scent for summer, I don't have to worry about the fragrance morphing unexpectedly in the heat.  What I spray on is very close to what will remain a couple of hours later.  This is a quirky, tangy little scent.  I'm really glad that it doesn't incorporate anything floral, sometimes I want my juice freshly squeezed, containing bits of pulp and the slight bitterness of seeds and stem.   Zeste de Soleil achieves this experience.  It's not incredibly long lasting but is does have a bit of staying power, 4 hours or so.  For an Eau, that's not unusual on my skin.  Is it a masterpiece?  Nope.  But it's really a nice fragrance and for the price you really can't lose. 

*****If I don't post for the next few days, I'll be back.  We are currently dealing with the vicious flu in my house and with the way I feel today, looks like I'm next.  If I can't get Tamiflu I'll be out for the count for a few days.  I'll try to put together something from my backlogged notes file, but if not I'll be back in a week or so.  Thanks for reading!

Volnay Fragrances Perlerette

Part 3 of Volnay reviews....you can read part 1 here  and here.  
In my reviews of Volnay scents I saved this one for last because it required a few different wearings to figure it out.  Of the 5, this is the one that gave me the most mental churn.  Did I like it?  At first I didn't know.  When I first applied it, I got a very doughy, almost bitter iris, and ambrette, which I am typically not a fan of.  I like iris but there are some iris fragrances that I have never been able to tolerate.  This immediate note recalled that same unsettling feeling for me.

Powering through, I waited a few minutes and there was my reward.  The dough in the iris faded and allowed a lovely pale purple bloom to come through.  This effect was further enhanced by an airy lilac note that wasn't too sweet, rather recalling the bud instead of the bloom.  Pink pepper and orange blossom further flavored the bouquet and spring suddenly was surrounding my arm.  The dough was a little wisp of memory floating around it but it worked quite well and the ambrette, to me, recalled the sword shaped leaves of the iris.  Very feminine and balanced, this reminded me of a tailored,  lavender colored linen dress. 

As the fragrance progresses we get a hint of a woody violet, and a lovely fluffy vanilla musk comes out.  Not dessert-like in the least, but like a halo of light powder, enhanced by the 4092 base.  It's  a bit like the drydown of Nirmal by Laboratorio Olfattivo.....veil like and long-wearing.  It gives me the impression of walking on a cloud, surrounded by beauty.  I wore this on a day where the weather was turning towards the warm and was aware of little hints of purple-colored spring flowers and vanilla powder all day. A surprising little fragrances, because the opening stage was my least favorite, however, I found it to be a gem.

All in all, I really do love all the Volnay fragrances.  My favorites would be Yapana and Perlerette, simply because I gravitate to a well-done hyper-feminine scent.  However, every single one is beautifully composed.  The lasting power is amazing, some were obvious over 10 hours after application, and was evident still after 10 hours and a shower.  This house is most definitely worth checking out.

Volnay Fragrances: Brume D'Hiver & Yapana Review

Today is part 2 of my Volnay reviews.  You can view part 1 here:

Brume D'Hiver has an absoutely divine, cool opening of tea-like bergamot and a touch of juniper.  The clarity of the top notes in this allows notes of jasmine and rose to come through.  This is an ethereal rose, very light......like the impression of a white rose as opposed to a red.  Fitting, for a perfume meant to give the impression of a winter breeze.   The herbs play with the flower, elevating the sense of freshness and perhaps the first hints of springtime, apparent in the use of violet.  Every winter here we are treated to baskets of violets in early springtime, one of the first blooming spots of color, and the late February air is always redolent of juniper bark and the sharp purple green of early flowers.  This scent captures that impression of lengthening daylight and a clearing of the mind, yet retaining the cool detachment of wind and snow.   The use of heliotrope also serves to temper the violet and for an brief period of time I am mildly reminded of Apres L'Ondee.  However, this is a winter fragrance and the spring-like feel quickly dissipates, as if reminding you that it's still winter.   Oud and incense make their introduction at this point, toning down the bright elements and adding a smooth internal sense of warmth.  Once again, these notes are not obviously recognizable.  It's as if the feeling is one of familiarity but,  if pressed for explanation, the note would be on the tip of your tongue,...however, the recollection of what it was would be just out of reach.  For the duration of the development, we are left with a bed of rich, dry and bright green wood effect.  The powder and spice Volnay base is made definitively unisex here due to the use of a lovely dry green vetiver and touch of labdanum, which adds further depth and definition.   Very enjoyable and would smell great on a man, but a woman could definitely wear it as well.

The next fragrance is Yapana, which takes us to the completely opposite landscape...... described as "an odyssey of mysterious and captivating notes, a magical and sensual embrace'.  I can immediately tell on the opening that this is one I love.  The impression I get upon spraying is white chocolate and a note mildly reminiscent of licorice, followed immediately by underpinnings of sweet ylang and lashings of vanilla orchids and amber.  It feels vaguely tropical,  and a bit gourmand without being overly sugary or obvious.  I like the use of the base here....it's used as a heart note and mellows the sweetness somewhat but it has a whole different feel and character from the other Volnay scents.   This one is a pleasant diversion from the theme, a bit like a very high-quality Angel (don't yell at me!) without the patchouli punch...there is patchouli here, but it stays in the far back corners of the scent simply providing some strength to the vanilla while simultaneously keeping it from overwhelming.  The powder is turned down, and the whole composition is given a twist with helional, adding a pale white/green freshness, but in no way does it feel aquatic.  It just adds a touch of humidity to the atmosphere,  allowing the florals to exude their scent to maximum effect.  The clove in the base is apparent here, enhanced by the amber, and gives the impression of sweet rum without being boozy.  It's the sugar that is left after the alcohol evaporates from the spirit, leaving you with pleasant associations of evening. 
This is the Islands at their best, beautiful and sweet and holding more than a bit of mystery. 

Tomorrow I will review the last of the Volnay scents,  Perlerette.   So far we're 4 for 4 as far as beauty goes.......looking forward to my last sample!

All samples purchased by me, so to ensure honest reviewing.

Volnay Fragrances : Etoile D'or and Objet Celeste

Volnay is a house that came to my attention about 6 months ago.  Apparently they've been around  since the early 20th century and was created by a couple who met on an ocean crossing.  Rene Leon Jean Duval was the commercial director for Coty, and Germaine Madeline was returning home from living overseas for 8 years.  They created their first series of scents in 1920 for Henry Bendel and 2 for department stored in Paris.  The Volnay fragrances were known for a base created by Duval at the inception of the brand.  Base 4092, as they called in, consisted of a powdery notes combined with  vanilla, rose,  and clove.  The current Volnay lineup consists of 5 fragrances originally created in the early 1920's.  All have been reformulated by Amelie Bourgeois and were reintroduced in 2013.

I started my sampling with Etoile D'Or.  Etoile D'Or is described as a sophisticated scent calling to mind an earlier era in perfumery.  It's described on the website as being a light scent but also 'intoxicating' and 'reassuring'.  It opens with a  very prominent bergamot and fusty lavender opening and its referral back to a previous yet remembered time is obvious....there's a little dusty and vintage feeling right out of the gate.  It's a pale orange scent, a little like a fizzy powdery orange lozenge which leaves a mild aftertaste.   A very soft, dry rose and lavender joins the bergamot and works with a circular effect for awhile......just as the citrus makes itself known, the lavender takes it to the earth and the rose grounds it, but the citrus then elevates the rose and the cycle repeats again.

Jasmine is not very apparent but there is a mild sweetness that I cannot attribute to the rose.  Suede is noted, giving the mental image of the inside of an expensive purse.  The residual scent of high-end cosmetics becomes a part of the bag's personality, and this very strong image takes me to the impression of a 50s style fragrance, all tailored pencil skirt and clutch with a coral-lipstick scent.  The bright citrus fades about a third of a way through the scent's life but leaves the pastille effect with the florals.  It's a scent that you can taste.    The suede asserts itself through the rose once the citrus has worn off, and the lavender leaves an herbal, dry impression that never allows the composition to go completely floral.  Eventually the suede element  sweetens,  emphasizing the entrance of the benzoin and tonka.  The suede makes a seamless transition to oakmoss as they slowly blend together to become indistinguishable.  The allows the suede to continue to add a soft element while the oakmoss slowly intensifies, holding the sweetness of powder, vanilla, and benzoin.  The interplay between a lightly herb-spiced powder, suede, and softly sweet base notes continues for hours.  Nice fragrance, not quite 'me' but I can definitely appreciate it.  Well done and worth trying if you like vintage powder scents.

Objet Celeste gives an entirely different experience.  Opening with a pulpy splash of pure yellow grapefruit,  it makes itself immediately known as a bright, almost vibrating presence.   Meant to represent nighttime fireworks in Paris, it definitely starts with the impression of bright sparks on a deeper nocturnal element.  I like the use of clary sage in this scent.....clary sage is used now and again in perfumery, usually falling seamlessly into the mix.   However,  in this scent I can actually pick the note out.  It's wonderful with the grapefruit and the effect it gives is almost that of violet.  It feels like a muted magenta scent, a little vibrant but not overdone.  Once again, jasmine comes into the picture and makes it seem spring-like and further enhances the sense of violets without grabbing the majority of the attention, and the Volnay base (that they refer to as base 4092) is the board onto which all the notes are pinned.  The base truly acts as a scaffold, continuously coming through any gaps that exist in the upper notes.  However, whereas in Etoile D'Or there is a suede effect that gives the base a vintage feel, here it lends a (very) vaguely gourmand effect due to the use of almond.  It's not a pastry or cherry like almond but just lends an interesting twist to the bottom of the scent, not taking away but enhancing the mild grapefruit rind present throughout the life of the perfume.  The light use of patchouli is perfect in this.  I have always found patchouli to be a wonderful counterpoint to grapefruit and here it is used to elevate the citrus by giving it a slight woodsy accord to anchor into.  I appreciate Etoile D'Or......but I like Objet Celeste better because it seems more versatile.  It's not a light scent, but can be used in a casual space.  It's not a formal scent but could be warm for a formal evening event in warmer months. 

The remaining 3 will be reviewed tomorrow with conclusions!

Isabey La Route d'Emeraude Review

The Emerald Route refers to and area across southeast Asia containing a multitude of gem mines, and I believe this scent was created to recapture the travels made by early explorers and the many discoveries and sensations that they would have experienced during the journey.  That's all I'm saying about that because frankly I have no idea what the scent has to do with the description, except that it's opulent and extravagant.

The opening of this fragrance screams 'very big floral' with a touch of grape candy.  I've gotten this grape element before both from fragrances containing Moroccan jasmine and orange blossom, so the presence of both of these leaves me with 10 minutes of purple sugar before it stops completely filling my nose and I can focus on the rest of the scent.  I can already tell that the one dab I applied to my wrist is enough to fill the immediate area with scent, treading carefully, I continue with my assessment.

There is a very apparent burst of orange blossom after the fruity effect disappears.  I find it more that a bit mind blowing when combined with the sambac and absolute.  It's very very feminine, and feels like one of those 'in your face' perfumes.  If this were earlier on in my love-of-perfume life, I would be running to scrub it off, but if I've learned anything in this journey of fragrance discovery it is that patience can really pay off.  Luckily, it's pretty, so I don't mind it too much.  I wait about ten minutes or so in a bit of discomfort in it as the unrelenting linear feel of the opening marches on.

Thankfully, the floral explorers finally come to a halt.  A wonderfully creamy tuberose decides to start parting the jasmine waters and opens, full bloom, surrounding itself with a mere drizzle of the delicate white petals of the previous ambrosia-filled tenants.  It adds heft to the fragrance, supporting the swirling cloud of floral syrup.   It continues in a steady hum of tuberose and I get the same sense of calm dignity and underlying sensuality that I get from many vintage scents.  It's a style that I don't see much nowadays and I find myself appreciating the obvious nature of it.  

The heat and humid feel of the tuberose eventually leads the remaining jasmine and orange blossoms upwards into the stratosphere,  leaving them to float above the surface.  There is a languid pace to this fragrance and its takes its time as it blossoms on the skin.  Slowly,  layers of floral start peeling back.  A glimmer of amber is revealed, and an essence of cinnamon is mildly apparent in the distance.  There is a solidity here,  encouraging the base to to develop further.  It's very rich and I finally find the benzoin weaving through the base and giving a boost to a veil of vanilla.  It's a welcome relief and adds depth to the flowers, adding fullness and acting as a touchstone for all the other notes to gravitate towards a central point of focus.

This is a very pretty, elegant fragrance.  It definitely holds a vintage appeal and I can't imagine that it can avoid the 'old lady fragrance' stigma, if only because it holds that sense of traditional perfumery and the lavish sense of the riches of the East.  However, I am at an age where I can wear anything without worrying about age perceptions.  If I can pull off a 'mature' fragrance, it's because I've earned it, and if I wear this fragrance I will do so proudly, because it means that my character has the strength to carry it.

Olfactive Studio Ombre Indigo Review

I love blue.  I spent one year in my twenties in which I wore something blue every day.  The color grounds me and when I'm dealing with a bit of stress or anxiety I always don a piece of clothing in that range, whether aqua or azure, and let its calming color soothe my reactions, so any perfume with reference to blue is one that I will try.  Some have been disappointing, and some have simply not worked, but occasionally I find one that embodies the calming effect that blue has on my psyche.

Ombre Indigo is a very fitting name for this latest introduction by Olfactive Studio.  In my opinion, their line tends to invoke very extreme reactions from me, I either really like their scents or I don't enjoy them at all.  Ombre Indigo was unusual in the sense that it left me in a sort of limbo in the beginning and played with my indecision a bit.  I was forced to study it and eventually question and come to terms with my preference for the color.  In a sense, it indeed fits the definition of a meditative scent.

© Hupeng | Dreamstime.com - Camel Caravan In The Desert Dawn Photo

The fragrance opens with an dark, oiled leather and nighttime scent.  It's both cool and enveloping, and smells a bit like a luxury leather boutique.  Here the is touch of smoke from vetiver  and there, a sweetness from petitgrain.  The leather gives the impression of ink on paper and the dryness of a papyrus note is heightened by an air of incense.  This is indeed a blue scent and wraps you in quiet blanket of sophistication.  Tuberose here is shy and I suspect a bit rubbery.....it's reminiscent of the tuberose I found in Mona Di Orio's Tubereuse....green, and vaguely oily, which may be the aspect I'm translating from the leather.  It's slightly sweet but acting more as a binding agent than an obvious floral.  When I put my nose to my wrist, i am surrounded by the leather and dry scents, but the second I pull away I am left with the after-image of incense and deep floral.  It's a little like someone walking by you wearing leather, but the minute you lean in you get the perfume and expensive hair product that they put on earlier in the day, and you want to lean in and inhale deeply.  There is an inherent indigo-ness about this.....like the time of day considered the 'gloaming' period....when the sky hits that intense blue purple, just after twilight but before dark.  L'Heure de Nuit and L'Heure Bleue focused on this time as well, but whereas the plush softness of those bring to mind a lady strolling by the river on her way to an elegant party in France, the edginess of this exemplifies a group of urban wealthy professionals in Dubai going to the latest high end club, with the almost visible energy of controlled expectations of the evening ahead.

The scent continues on its journey, and I get frankincense, which is a favorite of mine.  I love how it translates as incense when mixed with this particular tuberose.  It's not sweet per se, but gives the impression of being sweet.  The leather and ink fades but the paper quality still holds, turning it into a weathered parchment.  There is barely a tickle of saffron which adds the slight gilded edge but never becomes obvious.  I have a bottle of benzoin, so I recognize its sandy vanillic resinous sweetness, but it's only to serve as a decorative element to enhance the base of vaguely animalic yet dry musk in the bottom notes.  This base serves both as a boost for the spices and sensory contradiction for the papyrus.  The whole composition is a study in contrasts, an inky blue cold shadow with an unlikely
golden aura.   In the end, you are left with the lingering image of desert cold.....all the heat of the day has dissipated, but the cool evening allows for your focus to shift from the dust of the day to the other hidden scents of the surrounding environment.  The professionals have left the club and are regrouping at the edge of the desert, where the sand leads to an impermeable darkness and the ambiguous nature of night.

I wrote off this scent in the beginning but after one day, I started thinking about it again and couldn't really get it off my mind.  It was both disturbing and intriguing.  I tried it again.  And again.  And with each wearing I found something new to be examined and appreciated.  It's the person that you would usually stay away from but their mystery and aloof manner holds an undeniable pull and sensuality that simultaneously repels and attracts.  And isn't that what keeps us all interested on some primal level?

Maria Candida Gentile Kitrea Review - a Kodak moment.....

I wrote a review yesterday on Maria Candida Gentile's Leuco, and today I am reviewing Kitrea, another of her new line inspired by The Flight Of The Bumblebee.  I have to say that I am amazed by what came out of this review.  Keep going......

I took notes and wrote the following before I looked at the listed notes.  This is crazy.

Kitrea opens with a mouthwatering punch of absinthe and lemon.  It's breezy and cold and the absinthe fills your senses, like when you sip Pernod over ice in the middle of summer.  In a few seconds I am reminded of time spent at my best friend's house, her parents were from Greece, and somehow this scent reminds me of their home.  Her mother cooked frequently with lemons and there was always an aura of lemon rind and something vaguely minty that I associate with them.  It's comforting and cool, and has an appealing density.  It sweetens and I realize that this is the honey/beeswax element again,  adding a solid background.  It's the honeycomb that you eat a small piece of, and after the sugary amber taste resides there is a pleasant waxiness left in your senses that recalls the sweetness.

I am getting a very strong feel of environment here.  It's smooth and gray and green.  It feels coastal, like standing in a grove of trees and cypress, breathing the cold breeze and pushing down with your hands into the pockets of your coat.  The ground is wet and cold and the underbrush and grass are damp, but rather that running from the coolness you are embracing it.  It's reminiscent of standing on a rocky cliff and looking down at the rough waves below, crashing into the tiny sliver of beach.  There is lemon rind, not lemon juice, which adds to the effect of breeze and wind.  It's all stones and and dirt and breeze and I find it quite beautiful in a wild, cold way.

The absinthe weaves in and out with the barest hint of the honey and lemon, and I finally realize why it reminds me so much of my friend's house.  Her mother used to give us spoonfuls of a Greek treat, it was a thick, sweet paste that came in a jar and tasted vaguely of mint.  I looked it up and found a recipe that indicated that this paste is made from mastic,  which is a resin made from the mastic tree.  Apparently in some parts of Greece this resin is known as "Tears of Chios" and has a pine or cedar like flavor.  This sweet but cooling treat was the culmination of fun afternoons outside and left a pleasant aftertaste that lingered.  This fragrance does that same trick of the senses.  When you think it may be fading, it suddenly returns in a sensational rush that returns you to those early springtime woods by a stormy beach.

OK, now keep in mind that I wrote that before I read this:
"Kitrea is the union of the citruses and the sea, the dream of an island full of lemons, the yellow of the sun that makes their peel shine from afar and the wind that carries the smell of the unlimited, salty horizon. It's the freedom of the waves and the inviting taste of the south, an invitation to life, unconditioned."

I'd say Maria Candida Gentile is a master.  To be able to capture a picture like that in a fragrance and actually have a wearer sense that same picture without even knowing the intent is truly incredible.  Her scents have become some of the most loved in my collection and each one has the ability to affect my mood in a manner that most scents have not.  I'll be reaching for this scent at moments when I'm overwhelmed with the day to day rhythm of my life and feel the need to embrace the wild and unknown.

Maria Candida Gentile Leuco Review, aka Audrey has a Recollection

I wasn't sure if I would like Leuco by Maria Candida Gentile.  Every time I see 'honey' in a notes list, I get a little uncomfortable.  I don't really like the scent of honey in perfumes when it's a heavy, dark resin-like scent, as it tends to overpower everything else.  However, I have yet to meet a Gentile scent that I don't like, all of them tend to be so well blended and beautiful, that I folded and purchased a mini bottle each of Leuco and Kitrea.  Today I'll be focusing on Leuco.

Leuco opens with a fun spray of citrus and black pepper.  It's sweet and pretty yet holds an edge of sexiness and I get some lily in here.  There's an element of beeswax but no dark honey that I can see, which is a huge relief......I get no tuberose at all.  This scent is bright, yet seems contemplative and calm.  It's the kind of scent that I would spray on after an hour long massage when I'm feeling very relaxed and a little lazy, and just want to be surrounded by warmth and comfort.  The pepper is not anything that would make you uncomfortable, it takes on the element of a slightly warm incense.  It's almost like a pomander sniffed in the summer air.

The spice and floral continue to braid together and the citrus holds it all aloft, never heavy but very present.  The notes never seem to fade but organize themselves into a definitive structure.  You can practically see the pyramid of notes, but they all exist as a whole and the removal of one would destabilize the entire construction.  This stage holds its strength for a very long time and becomes rather clean smelling.....wait......what?  It's my mom!

This fragrance smells very, very similar to Maja by Myrurgia (the original scent) with an overlay of citrus.

Fragrance has more power to trigger memory than any other sense.  Babies and children bond to their mother instinctively by scent, so the scent of your mother is will typically become an incredibly appealing fragrance to you with its ability to make you feel warm, happy, and loved. 

My mother was a huge fan of Maja by Myrurgia soap.  She always had a box of three lingering around and it was a 'luxury soap'.  As a child I found it a little nose-tickly but nice enough, and I recall sniffing the box with pleasure, fascinated by the beautiful design of the box and wondering how I could make a flamenco-style dress for my paper dolls.  Since then, I have always associated the scent of Maja with my mom in her glamorous mood.  She wasn't one to dress up but she always had a splash of cologne, at the very least, and citrus scents will always remind me of the Dominican side of my family, all of whom were big fans of 4711.  My best childhood memories are heavily laced with those turquoise and gold bottles and the scent of clean adults in the humidity, radiating the warmth of that cologne. 

Leuco is beautiful, clean, warm, vibrant, and a little sexy.  And it is bringing memories back in a tidal wave of my mother's bedroom and its dark green rug, her grey beige dresser with the seventies TV propped up the corner and her sewing machine on the other end.  She is dressed for a tennis lesson and is directing me to put on my sandals.  And I am very, very happy because she smells like sunshine, 4711 and pretty soap.

Once I make that connection I can't let it go.  I am huffing my arm and holding on to this memory.  The scent continues to develop and the citruses eventually, after a long period of time, let go of the scent allowing the florals and spice to take over.  At this point the tuberose is vaguely recognizable but it's the lily that gets my focus.  Is this a honey scent?  No....but it holds the lovely beeswax element adding that incense feel to the pepper and retains that scent the whole time, similar to the beeswax that I find in Seville a L'Aube.  During its very last stages the scent seems to sweeten a bit further (never cloying) retaining the barest memory of the lily and tuberose.  It remains there, strong, steady and happy, for over 10 hours on my skin.

This is a scent to be worn and treasured, and it's a scent that I want my children to associate with me, so they can share the memory of the scent of my mother through me.....sunshine, citrus cologne and pretty soap is Leuco.

Terry de Gunzburg Reve Opulent Review

op·u·lence 

1. Wealth; affluence.

2. Great abundance or extravagance.

Reve Opulent is supposed to be the gardenia scent of Terry de Gunzburg's line of fragrances.  This was not a house that I was familiar with and until I read some reviews wasn't convinced that I wanted to try them.....but the notes on their fragrances seemed enticing enough.  Reve Opulent is the first I've tried....it's been awhile since I've worn a gardenia scent and figured I could smell it with a fresh approach, since I don't have any gardenia fragrances stuck in my mind in which to compare.  Opulence implies to me an elaborate use of ingredients, and I was expecting a big gardenia scent.  I took my sample and sprayed.....

Reve Opulent opens on a tide of honey, jasmine and sweet, ripe peaches.  These peaches are heavy with juice, just past tangy to full on sweet, and ready to fall off the tree.  One of the areas where I lived is known for its orchards and fruit picking.  Luckily we knew quite a few orchardists and throughout the season, they would allow friends to come to the orchards and grab 'floor fruit'....basically, fruit that had fallen off the tree recently that was relatively unmarred and ready to be eaten.  The peach in this scent reminds me of those fruits......so sweet that it was like sucking peach syrup when you got past the fuzzy red and yellow skin, almost a peach wine.  The honey is a light clover honey, no beeswax or richness, just a light scent as if a spoonful was diluted in a glass of warm water.  The jasmine is pretty and prominent, along with a pop of gardenia (there it is!), fully bloomed and without any surrounding leaves.

A pretty plum joins us, peeled and sliced to get the full effect of the red-tinged fruit, as well as a touch of cinnamon.  It also adds to the effect of an end of summer ambrosia, with the fruits of the season ready to vanish until the following season, and the sense of spice in the air that embodies the approach of fall and the comforts of a warm blanket.  There is a velvety yellow rose, adding some soft brightness.  The syrupy sweetness of the scent continues to develop, without turning overly sharp, but removing any juiciness from the peach and turning it into a candied scent, like fruit covered in a layer of sugar crystals.  The gardenia is present throughout this stage but as a supporting actor to the fruits which play a starring role.

When the vanilla enters, it does so gradually and in the polite manner of a vanilla orchid.  There is no baked good element here but the effect of a vanilla powder, enhanced by a cloud of white musk.  Thankfully, the white musk (though pleasant) never dominates the drydown, which is a powder puff of peach and vanilla sugar.

Note from my husband:  "It's ok.  I like it.  It makes me think of hummingbirds....you know, what they drink?"  Ambrosia, dear.

When I was young, I really used to like Fun Dip Candy.  They still make it.....it's a paper package with 3 compartments that hold different flavors of flavored candy powder.  To eat it, you open a separate compartment that contains a white candy stick that tasted of powdered vanilla sugar.  The taste of that candy will stay with me forever.  My mother wouldn't let me have much candy, and if I wanted any I would have to buy it with my 2.00 allowance....what a bargain it was to buy Fun Dip and have it last for three days!  This scent for some reason reminds me of a packet of peach flavored Fun Dip.  I don't find it extravagant but comforting and a little bit childlike.  I think it would be a great crossover to niche for a young woman, or a fun summer scent for a lady, but I don't view it as a grand dame sort of experience.  If you like a true fruity floral, please try this one.  If you don't like sweetness, stay away.

Juliette Has a Gun Oil Fiction Review

I'm going to start this by saying that I don't have a lot of love for Juliette Has a Gun fragrances.  It's nothing personal....there is no long-standing grudge per say,  they never have done anything to hurt me (except try to charge a lot of money for a diluted aromachemical, but they're not the first nor will they be the last).  I've just always found their scents to be a little.......meh.  I've tried......I wore a Romantina sample for three days.  I bought a bottle of Lady Vengeance extreme unsniffed (let's just say that she did have vengeance on my arm...not for me).  I've gone through various samples and none have made it past a couple of hours without me washing it off and saying 'next'!  Now, if you love Juliette Has a Gun and it works magic with you, then please, keep wearing their fragrances!  But for my own personal use?  No, it's just not happening for whatever reason.

That being said, I got a little excited when I saw they had two new(ish) fragrances with notes I could get behind.  I decided to try Oil Fiction because traditionally the notes have all been ones that I have an affinity for......bergamot, amber, tuberose, ylang ylang, iris, saffron (SAFFRON!!! yessssss), labdanum, patchouli, vanilla, sandalwood, and papyrus oil?  Yes please! And also because it was created with an "Arabian Nights" theme in mind.  No oud?  Great.  I'm definitely on the ragged edge of being sick of oud and I need a break from it.   I tried it first thing in the morning when my nose couldn't be distracted or misguided by anything else like coffee or six year olds.

I do get the bergamot and some florals and a mild tinge of dust (not bad dust but good dust...patchouli dust.).   The bergamot fades out within 5 minutes, while the floral and amber notes fuse into a steady state and start to fall into position.  I'm struck by the fact this this smell somewhat familiar to me.  So far,  it's definitely the best first impression I've had from a JHAG scent, but I'm not immediately in the throes of a great big crush......it's just like the fragrance is someone I've made eye contact with (OK, you're there....I see you and acknowledge you).  It is somewhat pretty, but like a male model pretty......one step away from feminine, but not unabashedly so.  There's tuberose here, and it is not yelling at me. The tuberose is of the mild rubbery variety and sweetened by the ylang.  The iris and saffron serve as chaperones to the other sweet notes that are involved in some sort of fragrance samba on my arm.  They're wearing a little bit of suntan lotion and have clearly been flirting with each other all day, and are now working all their best moves to try to get to know each other, but the iris and saffron keep laying a soft hand on their shoulder saying 'take it down, buddy'.  And like any dance, every so often one of them sits to the side while everyone else is still working it on the floor.  Halfway through this, some notes start jarring for position and decide to have a dance-off.  It gets a little aggressive and patchouli and labdanum start throwing their muscle around.  The florals decide that things are getting a little out of control, so as they get either tired or lucky, they leave and the bouncers take over.  In the end I'm hanging with the heavy duty diehards.......sweetened woodsy patchouli/vanilla and a great big dose of ambroxan, which disappoints me.  I feel like in this composition they've decided to use ambroxan to stand in for oud and it comes across as masculine and a little grating.


After wearing this for awhile I realized what it reminds me of.......my bottle of Humiecki and Graf Clemency.  This is a slightly sweeter, like a winter version of that scent (if you read my review on that one, it's like that cold mom, but this is her husband and he's happily drunk and trying to hug everyone).  This fragrance is long lasting.  All of it finally recedes into the background with a steady hum of ambroxan powering through for hours.  If the first two stages lasted longer it would be a more satisfying experience but in the end that final note just drowns everything out and makes me absolutely certain that I could get much better fragrances for 285.00.  I do get a mildly Middle Eastern style from this but sadly it doesn't do anything for me.  I think it would smell better on a man once it gets past the florals, and maybe that would be the element that I feel like this scent is missing.

So as with any perfume, here's the big question.....do I like it and would I buy it?  Yes, I do like it....but it's not love, and I find the copy from the Juliette Has A Gun website to be quite ambitious.  Is this really highly sought after?  I don't know,  it's months later and the limited edition bottles seem to be available at a few online fragrance retailers.  Original?  Nah.  A 'royal elixir' with a 'wild nature'....really?  No.  Sophisticated and elegant yet also wild and animal?  OK, come on.....  With all those opposing characteristics I guess they've hit the nail on the head.  It's an expensive 'meh'.  Pretty, but to me, not worth the price tag. 

Strange Invisible Perfumes Emerald Moss Review

I don't have a great relationship with natural perfumes.  Whether it's my nose, or my skin which has been exposed to chemicals for 43 years so when it sees something natural immediately eats it, they tend to be lacking something in boldness or strength.  Now and again I will be inspired to try something new, and I am a sucker for greens and blues and anything that recalls a forest, so when I saw a posting for the new Strange Invisible Perfumes Reserve Series Emerald Moss, I immediately became obsessed with the lovely dark green juice.  I like moss, but sometimes I find it too elemental....but the hypnotic forest hued liquid convinced me that I had to have at least a sample.

My sample arrived and yes, it was a lovely vibrant green.  I eagerly tried it right away, and my arm was suddenly awash in a bright lime (which is not in the notes listed but hey, it's what I got) and clean, misty floral wave of scent.  The lime was sweet rather than sour, and the florals were light.  Strong and beautiful, I sat back to await my mossy adventure.

Fifteen minutes later I still didn't have my moss, but the scent took on a water vibe....this is running water, and burbling brook complete with rocks, with a cool breeze behind it.  Not in any way an aquatic, but in a woods-after-a-spring-rain way........delightful.  Except for the lime, no note was immediately distinguishable.  This is not to insinuate anything bad, only to imply that the blending is impeccable.  It was beginning to give me the sensation of a bright green layer of spring moss on a rock, when it is absolutely vibrant and almost neon in intensity in contrast to the cool green of the trees around it.

After we hazily existed in this stage for awhile, getting to know each other and having a figurative waterside picnic, the fragrance abruptly changed and led me into the deep woods.  The moss suddenly becomes mysterious and dark, shedding the brightness of the beginning and becoming a little brooding.  As you venture deeper, a true emerald carpet appears on every exposed surface, and the moss is hanging from the trees in soft green swaths.  This moss is sweet and true, so beautiful that it actually evokes emotion from me, wrapping me in its arms of green and night and fresh sweetness.  It's laced with the memory of sunshine and flowers and breathes their scent out into the cool night air.  The texture is rich and I can sense some vetiver and mounds of soft living vegetation,  but there is so distinguishable smoke here, just the perfect image of moss on fallen trees.  This beautiful stage lasts for about 4 hours, which was pretty shocking to me.  This may be due to the mate used in the scent which tends to anchor fragrance, or the khus oil.  I have never had a natural fragrance last for that amount of time so I have to say I'm impressed by its longevity.  

I am rarely moved to breathlessness by a scent.  This one touched me somehow, and brought me to a realm of fairies and wood nymphs and beauty.  I don't know if I could ever afford the bottle, but it may bring out in me the desire to save for one.  I will say that it reminded me vaguely of the final stages of Bel Respiro, but with a much deeper, darker quality......that is not to say that they are redundant, only that if you like Bel Respiro, you will likely love this scent.   It is an absolute pleasure.

Notes per Strange Invisible Perfumes :  mate, ginger, temple mandarin, lavender, khus, and rose essence.

Gin and Vanilla - A Comparison of Arquiste The Architects Club and 4160 Tuesdays The Sexiest Scent on the Planet (IMHO)

Side by side comparison time!  I haven't seen a comparison of these two done yet, but the notes were so similar that I was really curious to see how the slightest shift could change the feel of a composition.  The Architect's Club by Arquiste's notes are as follows: 

Juniper berry oil, Angelica root, Lemon peel oil, Bitter Orange, Pepperwood, Guaiac wood,  Oakwood, Vanilla Absolute and Amber.  Compare to 4160 Tuesdays' The Sexiest Scent on the Planet (IMHO).....gin, bergamot, vanilla, woods, musk, & ambergris.  The characteristic flavor of gin comes from juniper berries, bergamot is very similar to lemon peel and bitter orange.  The woods and vanilla line up, and the use of amber in one and combination of musk and ambergris in the other can potentially give the same feel to a fragrance.  So let's go!

The architect's club opens with a party feel:  bright, bergamot laced gin and a light transparent vanilla feel airy and somewhat festive.  It's a bit exciting....I want to be at this get together.  Similar to when you take a sip of gin, it gets past your nose and suddenly you are hit with the impact of the spirit....the gin gains strength and loses its fizz.  I swear I get a mild whiff of olive……astringent and tart with a hint of brine, and a bite of black peppercorns when they are freshly ground.  Though it sounds off putting it works here, and is relatively unmistakable to my nose.  It's an interesting melange of sensations.....cold fizzy drink, the zing of olive, the light sparkly vanilla dancing around it.  This stage is masculine in feel but a woman can wear it.  I get the sense of the architect's aesthetic: clean cut and sharp edges, almost cold lines, metallic, but leads your eye to where the artist wants you to go.   Very slowly the fragrance loses a bit of that vinegar edge……a smoke-of-the-guaiac-variety joins the party which is pleasant. If this fragrance was an event, this stage would feel like this: the just-bordering-on-raucous evening starts winding down.  The acquaintances have left and the people who remain are well fed, a touch inebriated, and perhaps a bit drowsy.  One by one the attendees drift into the night and the ones that remain are the old, dependable and true friends....in this case a lightly sweet vanilla which becomes deeper and even more well rounded over time, a hazy hint of guaiac and perhaps a bit of barrel oak. I really enjoyed every stage of this fragrance, it is truly original and made a great transition from cool to warm, and I feel like it's a great reflection of the architect's philosophy.

4160 Tuesday's The Sexiest Scent on The Planet (IMHO) also opens with a gin and tonic vibe, although this one is being enjoyed on a bright summer evening with more emphases on the citrus.  The bergamot is very apparent and the gin actually feels carbonated.  The vanilla is already apparent and at an equal level with the bergamot and gin. It's a scent that brings to mind a *fun* party.  You may not know everyone, but nobody cares....it's a summer afternoon and we're outside!

This scent moves faster through its progression.  The vanilla increases in intensity but it's joined by a drier and sweeter wood note.  The wood and vanilla work well together, and musk also joins in.  Happily, the bergamot adds a lime peel facet that doesn't dissipate quickly and holds it all together until the end.  The life of this fragrance fairly quick, but it is pleasant.  Is it the sexiest scent?  Not IMHO.  But it is fun and maybe enough to consider for a one night stand.  And being married, a fragrance one night stand is just about all I'm willing to do.

In all, whereas The Architects Club is a martini, IMHO is a gin and tonic. The are similar enough that if the Arquiste scent is out of your budget the 4160 Tuesdays is a good alternative.  I myself prefer the drydown of The Architects Club better, and the longevity makes it more appealing to me as well, but I have a bottle of the 4160 Tuesdays and I'm sure I'll be revisiting it since I don't feel bad applying it with abandon.

Reviewed from my decant of The Architects Club and my bottle of 4160 Tuesday of The Sexiest Scent on the Planet (IMHO), both of which I purchased myself.

Profumum Tagete - To Take a Picture

Here in the high desert, winter can be very difficult.  We'll transition from frigidly cold days when the streets are almost impassible and you need to have a fire burning in the fireplace in addition to blasting the heat indoors, to having days that are relatively temperate which give you a hint of the spring to come.  The air is dry and cold, but most of the time when you look up, the sky is blue and the sun in shining, even when you can't feel you feet in your boots.  At this time of year, I yearn for warmth and the smell of grass and flowers.

Yesterday I reached for my sample of Tagete from Profumum out curiosity.  I had specifically ordered this sample from Luckyscent because I was intrigued.  Who would make a perfume named Tagete?  I've never smelled a marigold that was particularly interesting to me, and calendula can have a piercing thin scent that has never appealed.  Yet during this miserable series of cold and snow, a scent based on a summer bloom gave me something to consider.

Profumum scents tend to be very strong on me, so I used one drop on the scent and it immediately revved into high gear.  Tagete starts with very, very sweet jasmine, and a vaguely citrus-tinged marigold.  Initially this stage has a creamy element, which disappears in a snap.  The impression is of pale yellow light.  Very feminine in character, the florals become warmer,  and gain a honeyed aspect which almost gives it a fuzzy edge.  When the sweetness starts to veer into potentially overwhelming territory, a touch of relief comes in the form of that creamy note again, just outside of your periphery, similar to how on a warm day with a clear sky, you can start to feel the potential for a late day storm.  This is a  drowsy Summer scent, wearing an airy dress and walking barefoot,  closing your eyes and listening to bees buzzing nearby.   IT's a tactile scent and gives the mental image of crushing a yellow dandelion…you are left with crushed gold and the vaguest memory of milky sap and stems.  Oddly, as the scent progresses, I find it also reminiscent of real honeysuckle, on the vine.  It's slightly wild and untamed, and can take over all the other nearby plants if not kept in check.    

A few hours in, the roundess of the scent takes a backseat.....still warm and yellow and sweet, it takes on the additional character of a light herbal tea underscoring the wild nature of the garden.....the jasmine becomes less evident and scent starts to take on the image of a gold and orange marigold.  The tentrils of a green note start threading through the florals, but it is not an obvious green.  It is a mere further tempering of the sweetness with a little dusting of seedlings growing at the base of your plants.  I can't really identify vetiver in here, and if it's the moss I'm sensing, it's adding an appealing, vaguely dewy scentsation that encourages balance in the scent.  I am now getting a sense of the plant as a whole rather than a picture of the single bloom.  It also hits a very brief period of an almost acrid edge, but thankfully this stage only lasts a few minutes and we settle back into the white and gold feel of the composition.

As the fragrance settles to it final stages, the camera is now pulled back to include the garden. I finally sense the balance of moss and floral, leaving me with the sense of a lovely gold and green silk on my skin.

Frankly, I have never smelled anything like this fragrance.  To me, that’s a good thing....I didn't find it challenging but interesting.   To some, it may be too focused and somewhat distracting...it is most definitely for spring and summer, or days in which you need a dose of sunshine.  It's quite clean-smelling yet not soapy.  Due to the strength of this perfume I could never imagine spraying it on, and a bottle would last forever.   It almost has the character and strength of an oil....a little goes a very long way.  I found myself using this scent again today and I must say, I really enjoy it.  It's going to make this winter a little more tolerable.

Agonist Dark Saphir Review

Sapphires have an interesting history.  Mined from many different regions, they can be a variety of colors depending on the trace elements present in the stone.  The most common color is blue, which is where my mind immediately went when I heard the name...but the stone can come in various reds, blues, and even orange...the rarest being the Padparadscha, which is an orange or orange-pink sapphire that comes by its color naturally and was originally mined in Sri Lanka.  The sapphire was thought to bring blessings from the heavens in the middle ages, and has been used for purposes of protection, spiritual enlightenment, and peace as well as being conducive to clairvoyance and astral projection.  A gem with such high power and expectation would have to have a scent that could reflect the strength of the stone.

Dark Saphir opens with a burst of violet leaf and citrus which gets quickly tempered by a filter of oud.  This is the oud that is vaguely medicinal but not of the "band aid" variety.   A plum note, brimming with juicy pulp, mixes with the citrus and violet giving the scent a purple feel.  At this point, the scent gives the feel of warm sunlight in an exotic locale.  Here is the fruit of the market, there are some trinkets made of wood, and in the distance you can smell the fragrant stall brimming with bowls of spice, waiting to be measured and weighed.

The scent sweetens somewhat, and now a slight leather peeks out as well as a light dose of incense.  There are florals weaving their way through the composition as well.  However, they are so well blended that at no point does this become a floral scent.  It's as if you are surrounded by a floral-scented air that has become so much a part of the environment that you don't sense it until you walk back outside, where it hits you with a wave of light, ethereal sweetness.  Although the fragrance sweetens at this stage, at no point does it become anything but unisex.  With the appearance of leather and incense, this now becomes a scent that starts suggesting an ethnic market in modern, urban landscape.  The smoke evokes a cooling effect while the plum continues to add a brightness....cold, but not unwelcoming.  The whole effect, once again, is that of an indigo-purple rather than blue and I would almost refer to it as a meditative stage if not for the transparent overlay of fruit.  It reminds me of a better balanced version of Indult Isvaraya, structured to be more attractive to a wider audience.

The scent does a beautiful gradual dip into its final stage.  The scent becomes a sophisticated incense-like scent that never goes churchy or overly commercial.  When I read the notes for this fragrance I quickly found my bottles of copaiba and labdanum, and tried to figure out what was so appealing to me.  A veil of smoke, a smattering of herb, the sense of a blue evening right as the air cools....the lingering hint of sweetness from fruit and flowers.  In investigating my bottles of copaiba, labdanum and peru balsam,  I can safely say that the base of this fragrance holds elements of all....the smoke imbued leather holding them together must be the nagarmotha. 

I love this scent for the personality it brings.  Upon reading more about sapphires, I find this scent to be very representative of the stone itself.  Like a beautiful silk sari in vibrant colors, this scent is a shapeshifter and gives the dual experience of warm color and cool fabric, rich and shimmering and somewhat tactile in its lush softness.  This is a scent of strength in identity.  It's the embodiment of this generation of cultures blending in cityscapes that when taken in terms of sections can be very unique, but when viewed as a whole creates a whole new environment in which the elements complement one another rather than any piece being greater than the others.  

Agonist is a line that has rocketed to one of the top positions of my Favorite Perfume Houses list.   The inital line, for me, had some hits and some misses, but each subsequent release has proven to be better than the previous.  In the beginning, there seemed to be a period of both scorn and admiration for this house stemming from the the original highly priced releases, with people overlooking the fact that the initial releases were only available in one of a kind glass flacons which is what drove the prices so high..... yet when they were release in the regular bottles, people seemed less impressed with the juice;  whether it was due to reformulation or the increased availability I could not tell you.   I, however, had never tried the scents in the original bottles so i never could compare.....therefore my enjoyment of the scents was never potentially swayed by the price paid.   Does perfume smell better when it comes encased in a work of art?  Perhaps....we are always convinced that we are getting something special when we spend more.....but in this case, I say the art is in the scent rather than the bottle.

Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums En Passant

I used to live in a house that had 2 enormous lilac bushes in the backyard.  One had purple blossoms with white trim, another had purple.  Being the in Pacific Northwest,  we would be inundated with rain from October to May and the fairly temperate climate would allow bulbs and flowers to start blooming as early as February.  It was hard to gauge when summer was on its way but I quickly learned that when the lilacs bloomed, it meant winter was truly almost over, so I looked forward to those beautiful amethyst blossoms every year.  I would cut  branches off to prune them, then fill some crystal vases in my house with the gorgeous blooms which would then fill my home with a light, lovely lilac.   However, the scent in the house was never quite the same as smelling them outside as they were blooming in the cool rain under a gray sky, with the grass a vibrant carpet beside it, exuding its own powerful green and earthy scent. 

 

En Passant is a fragrance that has been reviewed to death, however, it is one of my favorites and I wear it frequently.  I find it to be the most realistic portrayal of those blooms in my old backyard.  The initial spray is a veritable blast of cool air and lilac and it feels as if a breeze has traveled across my arm, surrounding me in the wraps of early April.  The scent feels calming yet anticipatory, as if there’s something waiting behind the breeze and flowers, and holds the wearer in suspense for a time, until it unveils a hint of loam and rain.  But then, much like the flower in the spring, it blooms further to reveal the full lilac blossom, loads and loads of them, surrounding you with the sure promise of the upcoming sunshine. 

I had  one more lilac  in a very different environment, the High Desert, where it grew in my front yard with the help of an extensive irrigation system.  This lilac was much smaller, with its constant struggle to retain moisture, and we would get fewer blooms, but what a welcome respite it was from the endless terrain of juniper and sage surrounding our house…..these lilac blooms were fleeting, and only produced a single quick round of blossoms, and had their own character.  They smelled sweeter and drier, the effects of the low humidity keeping their scent closer to the bloom itself,  and infused with a dry warmth.  As En Passant further progresses,  I am treated to these lilacs.  The scent is slightly sweeter but you can now feel the sun that has burned through the clouds, and the spring is a sweet memory, but the summer has brought joy and the sweet, dry air with it.  For hours I am held in that beautiful scented desert air, surrounded by a cool mist of lilac, until it gently fades, much like the lilac bloom itself.

I save my En Passant for days when the winter seems infinite.  At times where I am walking around in the snow, doing my mundane errands and glaring at the gray sky, this lovely lilac serves to remind me that in a few short weeks, the cold air will begin to give way to that unmistakable spring aura, and we’ll be seeing the blooms once again.    Another beautiful, beautiful scent in the Editions de Parfums series, and another winner by Olivia Giacobetti.

Reviewed from my own bottle of En Passant.

Antonio Alessandria Nacre Blanche

Sometimes it's interesting to try a perfume before you've ever read the marketing materials.  I love the Chandler Burr Untitled series for that reason, so I've been trying to stay away from promotional information and just going into trying a scent to see what I think about it.

What interested me initially in the Antonio Alessandria line were the bottles.  They are absolutely beautiful, and who doesn't want a pretty piece of art that contains great scent besides?  And with each scent interpreting a color, I was hooked.  I ordered the samples, and at this point, I have tried all three in his line.  They all have a unique character that appeals to different seasons and moods.  The Noir is Christmas-y and feels like winter.  The Rouge is bright and fiery, and the Blanche is for a more reflective mood.

Nacre Blanche is one that I initially envisioned to be light and airy, with perhaps some creaminess to it.  A scent with pearl in the name should be absolutely elegant and soft.  It's the stone that is not quite a stone, but a condensation of beauty surrounding a simple grain of sand.  I think pearls are absolutely beautiful...to me, they almost look like silk that has been infused with light.

Nacre Blanche opens sweet and somewhat suprisingly, heavy.  My mind interprets the initial stage as a combination of nag champa and the sweet tuberose that sometimes gets mistaken for gardenia.  I sense some petigrain as well, keeping the florals from becoming too much, and the nag champa quality is actually very attention getting....it's very high end headshop, which may not appeal to some but for me brings back wonderful memories.  The citrus is all but absent in the top notes on my skin.

The scent then takes a complete turn to the tropical.  The frangipani aspect blends with a scent that is reminiscent of coconut milk and a touch of ylang, the jasmine is also apparent, when all of a sudden something green comes in to add a cooling veil to the heat all that floral power is generating.  I suspect this is the coriander, which smells very much like the Kiehl's coriander.  The impression is of being at a tropical beach after dark....it's humid and sweet and all the night blooming flowers have blossomed, releasing their perfume into the night air.  The surrounding leaves and dark earth are just out of your sensory reach, but you know they are there.  I could bask in this stage for a long time, and as this scenario solidifies for me, the coconut milk subsides to a light breeze holding the florals aloft.

In the later stages, vanilla and benzoin become apparent, replacing and adding a nice echo of the nag champa feel in the opening.  Musk and Sandalwood, which is the other element of nag champa, becomes more apparent than the frangipani of the duo.  You are left with a wonderful white floral incense that lasts for hours.

I was surprised by the marketing copy when I read it....in the end, this scent reminds me not of a young maiden at the window waiting for her world of night romance, but of a great hippie retreat in the tropics.  Is it evocative of a pearl?  Maybe.  Pearls have so many layers and you can sense the depth in the stone,  and the scent holds that same fascination.

I will be buying this one.  It's perfect for summer evenings when you're tired of fruit or light florals.