Whoa, looks like the posts on perfume (reviews and the short feature on
"Singapore" fakes) have become the most popular on this blog! No
kidding.
It's late winter and I've been doing a lot of sniffing, wish-listing and
occasional buying. Just for fun, here are more fragrance reviews, which I
originally posted on the perfume website / on-line community Fragrantica. Take
them with a grain of salt -- each person's skin is different, experiences are
unique, and no two persons have exactly the same repertoire when it comes to
description.
More reviews available on my
Fragrantica.com profile page.
Kenzo Jungle L'Elephant Kenzo
One of the spiciest, most exotic scents I have ever sampled. I smelled
plum, cloves (a ton of cloves!) and what I thought was cinnamon (turned out to
be cardamom) in the first moments. It opens with a pleasant medicinal-gourmand
odor, and in its warmth I am reminded of Chopard Casmir, albeit less vanillic.
A friend keeps a mini in her guest bathroom, and one day she let me dab it on:
it could be smelled all around the table as we sat down to dinner, a big bully
of a side dish that threatened to take over the main course. What a bottle, and
what a name! I suppose the reference must be to Indian elephants with their
neat ears, their jewel-encrusted saddles and their sinuous movements as they
haul teak logs through the jungle. However, it’s the African elephant that
comes to my mind – a perfume that rushes straight at you, all ivory tusks and
huge flapping ears as it trumpets its presence.
***
Maroussia Slava Zaitsev
I admit half of the draw was that this is a perfume by a Russian designer.
The bottle is irresistible in the photo and looks even more beautiful in your
hand, like a jewel. The scent is of another era, or belongs to a more mature
and elegant woman than I am. It's a dress-up scent, for special occasions, and
would work better in fall-winter. I can detect the civet note, which actually
makes it exciting, if odd. But there are no discernible floral notes, just a
dark hovering bouquet, as though ten thousand flowers were massed up in a
chapel. Maroussia is a strong and distinctive animalic fragrance, so I
recommend spraying into the air and walking into it, rather than
direct-spraying on your person or clothing.
***
Sweet Honesty Avon
I got this in a little bunny rabbit bottle for my 10th birthday (which
always seems to fall around Easter) way back in 1979. It is quite an unusual
scent, girlish and feminine, the young Jessica Lange, Olivia Newton-John,
something a kid never forgets. Recently I received the contemporary version in
a swap with another community member and friend. On first application, the
scents were virtually identical, and so I relaxed and thought, A rare one
indeed, an undisturbed classic. Immediately, things fell apart, the streak on
my forearm turning to pure weightless powder, the ghost of that beautiful,
distinct personage from way back. Something is missing from today’s Sweet
Honesty… my nose seeks out the sparkly nip of what was probably aldehydes, and
maybe a smidge of sandalwood or perhaps oakmoss. (I’m not looking at the
reviews or the posted notes as I write this, just going on the scent and
memories.) Today’s young uns are missing out on a lot.
***
Lovely Blossom Armand Basi
The opening skish is very fruity, like a melon-laced drink you order at a
tropical resort. A moment later comes the girl herself – yes, this perfume has
an airy pink feminine presence -- sweet like flowers on a breeze and sweet like
the layer of sugar at the bottom of that drink. I thought the flowers might be
honeysuckle, but the notes tell me otherwise. The scent does have that
agreeable nature of syrupy fruit, candied but “lite.” It’s young but ageless,
playing not to a demographic, but to a mood. It’s a bottle of shimmery
early-summer. Total congruence between scent, bottle design and name.
***
Ambar Jesus Del Pozo
Starts off with blurry, non-astringent citrus that persists for several
hours. Beneath that, I can isolate what must be the amber accord (a
synthesized, fictional accord, as true amber from prehistoric resin has no
smell). It is exotic, slightly woody and resinous, non-vanilla, and there is a
similar facet to Sarah Jessica Parker’s “Twilight”, although Twilight and Ambar
have a radically different effect. If I spray Ambar (I love that name!) on
before bedtime, by morning it has become a pleasant and rather unisex
skin-scent, the citrus and amber melded into one.
I still have to road-test it in tropical heat, but in winter in northern Europe, the scent so far has been dry (non-sweet), non-floral, unobtrusive, the perfect backdrop for, say, writing a thesis. The scent goes fast, since I need two or three sprays to really feel its presence. The bottle, full or otherwise, is a true gem, and suggests something far more medieval or mystical than the scent itself.
I still have to road-test it in tropical heat, but in winter in northern Europe, the scent so far has been dry (non-sweet), non-floral, unobtrusive, the perfect backdrop for, say, writing a thesis. The scent goes fast, since I need two or three sprays to really feel its presence. The bottle, full or otherwise, is a true gem, and suggests something far more medieval or mystical than the scent itself.
***
Fraicheur
Vegetale Cedre Bleu Yves Rocher
It’s not foresty so much as woody – the clean honest smell of cedar planks,
or the inside of a chest or cupboard. A bare cedar, separated from the pure air
and verdant foliage of its origins, and already prepared for domestic use.
There is a touch of vanilla, or the benzoin that, to many, registers as
vanilla. When I wear it, it’s not the color blue that comes to mind, but a warm
beige: a masculine beige, as this is a warm, rather masculine cologne. And
although I’m a woman that suits me just fine.
This is a cologne I will reach for when I know I’ll be working alone, no people to please or impress, just me and my keyboard and my thoughts. The bottle is sleek yet unprepossessing, and it’s all of 125 ml, meaning I can use it (1 burst from the sprayer is strong enough) without worrying I’ll run out.
This is a cologne I will reach for when I know I’ll be working alone, no people to please or impress, just me and my keyboard and my thoughts. The bottle is sleek yet unprepossessing, and it’s all of 125 ml, meaning I can use it (1 burst from the sprayer is strong enough) without worrying I’ll run out.
***
Omnia Bvlgari
I love this perfume. It’s my go-to fragrance when I’m teaching. I’m a
foreign language instructor and it serves me well to appear friendly,
culture-savvy, and a bit androgynous. I see a lot of spices listed in the
notes, but to me this is a straight-up woody fragrance, a la Yves Rocher Nature
Millenaire (for women). It opens faintly and citrusy and this is probably the
reason why so many people express disappointment in it. Don’t let the opening fool
you: the scent strengthens, whether you’ve sprayed it on skin or clothing, the
sort of elegant, discreet, rather masculine lacquered-armoire vibe that I
really love.
If you were hoping primarily for a spicy gourmand, misled by the well-publicized white chocolate note, you’ll be disappointed. The note does appear, albeit elusively as the perfume plays mind games with you: now you catch the white chocolate, now (frowning in perplexity) it’s the same note but it smells balmy… no, woody… no, like benzoin maybe. This is great in winter, misted all over a wool sweater.
If you were hoping primarily for a spicy gourmand, misled by the well-publicized white chocolate note, you’ll be disappointed. The note does appear, albeit elusively as the perfume plays mind games with you: now you catch the white chocolate, now (frowning in perplexity) it’s the same note but it smells balmy… no, woody… no, like benzoin maybe. This is great in winter, misted all over a wool sweater.
***
Je Reviens Worth
When I first sprayed it on, I had to run to my computer and check the notes
for ylang-ylang, and sure enough, there it was. The opener is all ylang-ylang,
coupled with a chemical sharpness. (The aldehydes?) The scent of this lovely
yellow flower shades off into that of daffodils and something odd and burnt, as
though the various blossoms making up the fragrance had been singed at their
hearts. I had to apply more than I usually do, as for all its classic
undercurrents, the current formulation of Je Reviens does seem rather weak and
watered down.
Here is something macabre: when I was six years old, my grandfather died, and as he lay in his casket, us cousins took turns peering past the glass at his gray slack face. Candles dripped and occasionally smoked over our heads. There was a pervasive odor of wilting tropical flowers. To allay our tension and fears, we gathered ylang-ylang blooms fallen from the trees across the street, and stuffed them in amber-colored bottles filled with water and sealed with wax, to make “agua.” I am perturbed that after putting on Je Reviens it is this memory that welters up, after more than 30 years.
Here is something macabre: when I was six years old, my grandfather died, and as he lay in his casket, us cousins took turns peering past the glass at his gray slack face. Candles dripped and occasionally smoked over our heads. There was a pervasive odor of wilting tropical flowers. To allay our tension and fears, we gathered ylang-ylang blooms fallen from the trees across the street, and stuffed them in amber-colored bottles filled with water and sealed with wax, to make “agua.” I am perturbed that after putting on Je Reviens it is this memory that welters up, after more than 30 years.
***
Moringa The Body Shop
I fell in
love with this fragrance the moment I tested it last year. It’s available in
body butter format, so I got that for Christmas. Moringa refers to a genus of
tropical plants; the Philippine type is called malunggay. I have smelled the
living flowers, which are surprisingly sweet (albeit light), such glamour for
such a humble plant.
I don’t know which species the Body Shop’s essences were extracted from, but man, this scent is STRONG. It is lush, creamy and sensual, of the same intensity as tuberose but of different character. No wood, no astringency, no green.
One application of the body butter will defeat any other “nice” scent you may happen to be wearing. I have found it is best on its own, as it won’t make friends with rose, iris, incense, cedar or tea. Would probably get along well with orange blossom, tuberose or gardenia, but I haven’t dared. That would be the equivalent of a lunch table of glammed-up fashion editors in the first, garrulous stages of intoxication.
I don’t know which species the Body Shop’s essences were extracted from, but man, this scent is STRONG. It is lush, creamy and sensual, of the same intensity as tuberose but of different character. No wood, no astringency, no green.
One application of the body butter will defeat any other “nice” scent you may happen to be wearing. I have found it is best on its own, as it won’t make friends with rose, iris, incense, cedar or tea. Would probably get along well with orange blossom, tuberose or gardenia, but I haven’t dared. That would be the equivalent of a lunch table of glammed-up fashion editors in the first, garrulous stages of intoxication.
