I Smell Funny, Part 2

Here I bring you Part Two of my post on the white floral perfumes that have been irrationally possessing me of late. I think it's sort of a magical thinking effect -- if I wear the summery smells, summer will arise. Because Style Spy does not like the cold, my friends, despite it providing her with the opportunities to wear her large collection of gloves and boots and vintage velvet coats & jackets. Sure, I love the cashmere and the suede, but at heart I'm a summertime gal.

And apparently, my strategy is working -- it was in the mid-70's today! Hooray! For all those wishing for a white Christmas here in Austin, I do apologize. Actually, I don't. I moved to Texas so I wouldn't have to deal with the white stuff anymore. And all those wishing for a white Christmas in Austin are deluded souls, anyway, 'cause that just ain't gonna happen.

But back to sniffage...

Jasmin de Nuit by The Different Company

I have two very beloved jasmine plants on the balcony of my apartment. One is a Maid of Orleans jasmine and one is a confederate jasmine. They are both gorgeous and intoxicating, and the smells of their blooms are wildly different. Confederate jasmine is spicy and licorice-y, and that's what we have in this perfume because of the hefty doses of anise & cardamom that blend with the flower, all resting on a nice cozy bed of amber. This is olfactory comfort food for me -- a soft, spicy, delicious floral that is almost tangible in its warmth. The days that I wear this I find myself spraying it compulsively -- going back to my dresser again & again just to get another hit, maaaaaaan. Hypnotic, addictive, and yet somehow familiar & comforting. Bliss.

A La Nuit by Serge Lutens

Jasmine. Jasmine, jasmine, jasmine, and more jasmine. This is what perfumistas call a "soliflore;" the focus of this composition is a single type of flower. This is the Maid of Orleans jasmine -- a high, keening, slightly green laser of a scent. True jasmine in full bloom has a sweetness so piercing that it verges on plastic -- it's off the scale, the olfactory equivalent of dog-whistle territory. I've smelled a lot of jasmine perfumes in my time, but none come anywhere close to replicating the smell of the actual plant like this one. This isn't a "rendition" or a "version" of jasmine -- it IS jasmine. A rich, sexy, lay-you-out, drop-dead gorgeous bomb of white flower and it requires more than a little bit of spine to carry it off. You've never heard the expression "shrinking jasmine," have you? There's a reason for that.

Un Lys by Serge Lutens

Being as this is the third Lutens fragrance I've talked about, I feel I should tell you that M. Lutens is not actually the nose, or composer, of the perfumes that bear his name. That title belongs to a genius named Christopher Sheldrake, who is the magician behind these wonders. Sheldrake is... well, a lot of his fragrances are downright eccentric and a few of them I would not wear for love nor money (Miel du Bois, anyone? ::shudder::). Serge Lutens is a legendary figure from the world of cosmetics, famously connected to the Japanese company Shiseido, which is the corporate parent of all these little beauties, and of Lutens' own carefully edited and obscenely expensive line of cosmetics. (The mascara is 60 bucks. Seriously.) That being said, Un Lys is one of Sheldrake's most accessible fragrances. It's just... pretty. It's lovely floral-print chiffon frock at a tea party pretty. Another soliflore, this one lily, it is light, quite green and has definite lilac notes, with a soft hint of non-sugary vanilla in the drydown. No one could argue with this perfume -- it is everything light and feminine and good without being unctuous or childish.

Amoureuse by Parfums DelRae

My HG floral. (That's "holy grail," for all you non-perfumistas.) It's a massive white floral: tuberose, jasmine, and lily juiced up with a tiny bit of tangerine and deepened to almost obscene sexiness with a warm rich honey basenote that suffers from none of some honey notes' unfortunate tendencies. (Honey notes often bear a remarkable resemblance to urine. Not pretty. Phenyl acetates, which are the chemical compounds most often used to represent honey in perfumes, are also present in the composition of human urine, and can smell like either thing depending on how they're handled and what their concentration is. There. I sneaked a little chemistry into today's lesson!) There's also a cardamom note throwing a rich spiciness into the mix. (I do loooove me some cardamom in fragrance.) The perfume is supposed to smell like the lindens, or box trees, that grow in San Francisco, where the company is based. I dunno if it smells like box trees or not, but I adore this stuff. I'm not alone in this, although in the interest of full disclosure it is a bit much for some folks. It is extremely potent, I have to be very careful how much I spritz. But if I know I'm going to be at home by myself all day, I'll really douse myself and revel in it. It's intoxicating, this perfume -- a great high with no hangover. One of my Top Three. (Perfumistas often play our version of the professional chef's Last Supper game: if you had to narrow your collection down to three, or five, or ten, which would they be?)

So that's how I've been smelling lately. I don't think it's likely to change soon, since I've just received my new decant of Chanel Gardenia from The Perfumed Court, so I'm about to begin a whole new love affair with a whole new white flower. What perfumes are you wearing lately? What perfumes are you hoping to receive for Christmas?

Tell ya what. Since it's the holidays and all that, let's do a giveaway! Leave me your name in the comments section and this weekend I'll draw one. Winner receives samples of A La Nuit, Carnal Flower, Amoureuse, and Bergamot 22!! Happy sniffing!

Photos: Luckyscent.com, Barneys.com, BeautyHabit.com

I Smell Funny

I have S.A.D., I've decided.

Seasonal Aromatic Disorder.

All I want to wear lately, perfume-wise, are big honkin' white florals. This made sense a couple of weeks ago when it was still getting into the 80's every day, but the last week or so it's been close to freezing every night and still pretty cool (for Austin) during the day. Plus, the light is definitely wintry, and we've had lots & lots of rain & drizzle & mizzle & other unpleasantness. By rights, I should be hunkering down with my musks and spices and ambers. Instead, I've been waltzing around smelling like a tropical veranda underneath my cashmere sweater.

I'm not someone who adheres to the seasonal theory of smell with super-strictness. Living where I do, and being as great a fan as I am of big orientals and ambers, I've learned to appreciate them in the warmer weather as well as the cooler. (Wearing a deep, rich, dark oriental like Tolu in the heat will bring out qualities in the fragrance that you might not notice when it's chillier, so it's well worth the experiment.) But I do typically crave the heavier perfumes once it gets cool.

But lately, it's all about the flowers & sunshine. Here's some that have been capturing me. If you're interested in trying any or all of these, click on the photos to be taken to The Perfumed Court, the interweb's best resource for samples & decants of high-end fragrances. (Note their banner down the side of my blog. Click on that any time you need a Frag Fix.) Besides selling individual scents, the lovely ladies there can put together sample packs based on a particular note you'd like to explore -- jasmine, for example, or tuberose. Pretty brilliant.

Bergamote 22 by Le Labo

Sunshine in a bottle. I'm not usually a fan of lemon-based scents, mostly because they're often all sugared up, and lemon seems to be the default go-to note for fragrances when the creators want it to be "inoffensive" and generally pleasing to the widest range of people. Most lemony perfumes bore me to tears. On the other hand, I adore bergamot -- it's got spunk. Bergamot is lemon's much sassier cousin. This is additionally punked up with some grapefruit notes (another favorite of mine -- add lime and it's my citrus trifecta), but the thing that really makes it work for me is a really beautiful smooth musk at the bottom of the composition that makes it cling to my in skin a way that's bright and warm and yet sexy at the same time. Like a beautiful blonde girl with a husky voice. Delicious stuff -- I was hooked from the first time I sniffed it. I'm wearing it now. I smell great.

Lys Méditeranée by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle

I love lily. Not everyone does. It's a big smell, intense and heady and for people who are aroma-phobic, it can be overwhelming. I have a good friend who loathes the smell of lilies because it reminds her of her beloved mother's funeral (a very good reason to dislike it and further proof of the incredibly powerful associations smell can have with memories). I try to remember to never wear any of my lily perfumes around her, and it eliminates several of my favorites, including this one. Since I can't have fresh lilies in my house, despite my love for them (they are incredibly toxic to cats -- consuming even a small amount can be deadly), I'm even happier when I find perfumes that give me good lily-osity. This is a big, bright, pure lily, with a touch of orange blossom. Heady & wonderful.

Tubereuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens

One of the weirdest fragrances I have ever met, and I am positively addicted to it. This is one of the Lutens non-exports, meaning the only way to acquire a bottle is to get it from the boutique in the Palais Royal in Paris, or get someone to pick one up for you. Did I get some when I was in Paris last month? No, I did not. Do I hate myself for that now? Yes. Yes, I do. The opening of this perfume is a strange and hilarious blast of some sort of mentholated leather -- some people say gasoline. It's impossible to describe and, to be honest, a lot of folks loathe it. Not me. After the initial wacky depravity of the opening, it dries down to what is, on me, actually a fairly demure tuberose, sweetly feminine with just the tiniest edge of... something else. Something a little risky.

Carnal Flower by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle

King Hell Champeen of All the Tubeys, despite what all you Fracaddicts say. I've talked about this fragrance here before, so I'll spare you the raves. I will say, however, that the last several months I've noticed that this scent is being flogged mercilessly in all the fashion magazines' perfume sections, and this makes me a little sad. The company seems determined to raise its profile in the American market, and this perfume seems to be what they consider their way in. (This and a bland little number that they're offering exclusively at Barney's which was tremendously disappointing on several levels.) Perfume Snob I finds this a little disheartening -- I like the idea of being the only person I know wearing this. Not that they're wrong to rave, goodness knows, it's a magnificent fragrance.

I'll give you a break from the sniffer chat now and be back in a day or two to finish up this post with a few more of my favorite frags. Happy sniffing!

Photos: Barneys.com, salons-shiseido.com

Perfume Moment -- January 15

What I'm wearing today:

(Serge Lutens Ambre Sultan. Wonderful. One of the sexiest 'fumes known to man. But you don't have to take my word for it.)

What I feel I should be wearing with it:

(Hermés F/W 2006. I wanted just about every single thing that came down the runway in this collection. Stunning. Having the adorable Jean Paul Gaultier design this house is a stroke of genius -- I often like his work for Hermés even better than what he does for his own line. Which I like plenty.)

I love the gorgeous dichotomy of this dress: it's made of leather, which is traditionally a tough-girl signifier, slightly kinky & perverse; but it's obviously such a soft & luxurious leather that it would be impossible to resist the impulse to stroke it. I feel that way about Ambre Sultan, too. Dry and smoky, it's not the least bit girly but entirely feminine in a warm-rumpled-sheets kind of way. It's cold & icy here today -- which hardly ever happens in central Texas. Wearing this perfume is a guaranteed way to make myself feel warmer, although in all honesty I wear it year 'round. (If I didn't wear my perfumes that many consider "cold-weather scents" when it was a little warm, half of my collection would only be available to me about three months of the year. I'm an amber gal who lives in a semi-tropical environment, go figure.) Ambre Sultan is enigmatic, deep, at home in a Paul Bowles novel or a Patricia Barber song. Close to the skin I can smell a tiny hint of vanilla, but the sillage is all smoke and spice. It's an exotic fragrance that somehow smells exactly right on me, the least exotic of creatures. When I wear this I feel I should rim my eyes with kohl and speak in a husky voice. It's my favorite amber (and I've smelled a few), and definitely in my Top Five Fragrances. Happily, it is available in the States, so I won't have to panic or run away with a Bedouin prince when my bottle begins to run low.

What are you wearing today? Is it helping you to stay warm?