Bonkers about Perfume

Doorstepping Nick Gilbert At The New Les Senteurs Store, And My Mona Di Orio Epiphany

2012-02-03T16:19:00.004Z

The morning after the Perfume Lovers London event covered in my last post - well, more like lunchtime in fact by the time I had got my arse into gear - I doorstepped Nick briefly at the new branch of Les Senteurs. I have "previous" for doorstepping perfume people: there was that time with MyBeautyBlog in November, for example. Though in fairness Nick was half expecting me to turn up at some point.

The new branch of Les Senteurs is in a quiet Georgian street just a hop and a skip from Marble Arch tube station. It looks almost identical from the outside to the store in Belgravia on account of its regulation "Les Senteurs Blue" paint and potted bay trees. The colour is a rich petrol blue / teal, a few pantones down from Barclays Blue. Come to think of it, I have never seen petrol or the duck in question in that exact shade, but no matter.

Nick had a client with him for the first part of my visit, so I hovered on the sidelines for a while, before it became apparent that this gentleman was a regular customer, who was quite happy to chat and even allow himself to be sniffed at one point, while wearing PG Eau Guerrière.

First off I bought a bottle of Fracas for a friend with an upcoming milestone birthday, which I was glad to do, for my high ratio of sniffing to actual shopping does trouble me periodically. Business out of the way, I got down to a bit of sniffing, though I was mindful that I needed to leave some nostril capacity free for my Big Harrods Blitz with Tara straight afterwards, so I didn't go overboard.

Most scents were tested on card (where the usual massive caveats apply, especially following the incident with Dior Bois d'Argent, which turned out to be a totally different animal on skin vs card), but Nick kindly gave me samples of Mona di Orio Ambre and Tubéreuse to test at my leisure, along with Huitième Art Myrrhiad.

Right, so for what it is worth here is the low-down from my whistlestop testing:

Andy Tauer Pentachords

I didn't expect to get on with these at all for some reason, and in the event I didn't dislike them, but - a bit like the Andrea Maack range I tested in Basel - they were curious without striking me as being something I would want to wear. They don't have the trademark "Tauerade" medicinal wire wool vibe going on, so from that standpoint alone they were off to a flying start. I remember Verdant as unexpectedly minty, and Auburn as an offbeat spicy number, which put me vaguely in mind of DSH Nouroz (the Scent Formerly Known As Tamarind Paprika), and then White I can't bring to mind at all. Sorry - complete "white out". The fragrance strip smells sort of gourmand and reminiscent of JM Blue Agava & Cacao, but that could be the high quality paper used by Parfumerie Générale (to avert any confusion, I am not slavish about coordinating my blotter brands with the scent being tested!)

So those impressions - I won't even dignify them with the term mini-reviews - are highly suspect, but the non-Tauerade aspect should encourage anyone to try them who is not a fan of the usual Tauer style.

Then I had quite a strong reaction to the nozzles of a couple of scents, which I am sure would have been confirmed by a skin trial.

Les Parfums d'Empire Fougère Bengale - urinous curried straw (sorry, Dee, I know you rock this one, so you may have even more magic skin than Birgit, which is saying something!)

Mona di Orio Cuir - like the inside flap of a cheap leather satchel, only much worse

But hold on a minute, I said this post was about my Mona di Orio epiphany, right? Epiphanies are not supposed to be bad. Well indeed, and my 180 on this line - coming to appreciate it now that the post-traumatic stress of my Nuit Noire necklacing assault in Paris has at last subsided - started well before my visit to Les Senteurs in fact. For Birgit of Olfactorias Travels had given me a starter kit with several samples from Les Nombres d'Or, and I was already very taken with Musc. Then Nick sent me some more samples in January, including Vanille and Oud. The former struck me as a "true" vanilla ie with a slightly granular, burnt sugar smell, but not cloyingly so, while the latter was a wonderfully ethereal oud, perfect for someone as rampantly oud-averse as I am. The L'Artisan Timbuktu of ouds, if you will.

And now, with my sampling of Ambre and Tubéreuse - partly in store and later at home - the epiphany was confirmed and complete. I now LOVE five of the seven scents in the Les Nombres d'Or range. The vetiver one is also fine as it goes, but I am just not big on the note.

Mona di Orio Ambre

Like Oud, Ambre is a minimalist scent: a creamy woody amber with faintly spicy notes. The opening was a little potent, mind, and almost leathery to my nose, which broadsided me a little! In fact the amber note isn't very pronounced at all, not if your yardstick is Ambre Sultan or Ambre Russe. It is more in the ballpark of a very quiet Guerlain Bois d'Arménie - which I love, yet which seems quite rough and loud by comparison. Hmm, maybe the love child of Bois d'Arménie and Marc Jacobs Amber Splash, then diluted loads more and dusted with spice. The mental images I have of this scent is of the sun streaming into a room full of dusty wooden furniture and of a lump of mica glinting in the sun.

Notes: cedar, ylang ylang, benzoin, tolu, vanilla

Mona di Orio Tubéreuse

Dewy, fresh and green like Carnal Flower, but more citrus-y and with none of the oppressiveness that I get with that scent - and which I get in an even more marked way with By Kilian Beyond Love. I find Beyond Love positively suffocating (the tuberose knocks you out and as you sit there stunned, someone finishes you off by whacking you over the head with a coconut). Tubéreuse, meanwhile, could turn out to be my Holy Grail tuberose scent, and I never thought I would ever want one, never mind find one. So yes, I think I may be having a bit of a tuberose epiphany along the way as well, notwithstanding the heliotrope note I have just noticed in the list! Who'd have thought that Mona di Orio would be the perfumer to bring about such a transformation in my tastes? And it sounds as though Olfactoria did a bit of a U-turn of her own as a result of smelling Mona's collection - or was nudged a bit further in this new direction, say.

Notes: Pink Peppercorn, Bergamot, Absolute Tubéreuse from India, Benzoin, Casmeran, Heliotrope

I did smell one or two other scents briefly (nozzle or card), including a couple of bracing Heeleys (Verveine & Sel Marin), the new Glam Rose from Les Parfums de Rosine (not unlike Lipstick Rose), and PG Tonkamande (not a whole lot going on with this one - it was the tonka equivalent of those high pitched whistles only Alsatians and teenagers can hear).

Huitième Art Myrrhiad

I also tried Huitième Art Myrrhiad on a blotter in store and later on skin, and it is louder on my skin: licorice-y vanilla, reminiscent of Lolita Lempicka and Diptyque Eau Duelle with added licorice - or maybe even a toned down, much more minimalist version of Kenzo Jungle L'Eléphant. Myrrhiad was quite pleasant, but I kept wishing there was less licorice in there (or none, preferably). Let's just say that this is as nice as a perfume can smell with licorice in it!

I have only just googled the notes, and am pleased to confirm that my nose is on the right track - that really was licorice - ha!

Notes: myrrh, leather, black tea, vanilla and licorice

And then before I knew it, it was time to say goodbye to Nick till the next Perfume Lovers London event later this month, and head off to Harrods to meet Tara, where we embarked on a sniffing and makeup-ogling session of epic proportions...

Photo of Mona di Orio Ambre from cafleurebon.com, photo of Mona di Orio from basenotes.net, other photos my own

Perfume Lovers London's Maiden Meet-Up: Nick Gilbert - A Voyage Round My Collection

2012-01-31T16:00:00.000Z

Last Thursday saw the inaugural meet-up of Perfume Lovers London, a non-profit making social group for fragrance fans founded by Lila Das Gupta of Olfactory Events. "Inaugural" is rather a grand term to use perhaps, but the session was held at the New Cavendish Club off Oxford Street, a renowned private members' club which has the facilities and ambience of a gentlemen's club, but which I learn in Wiki was originally in fact for ladies only!

Well, on the evening of Nick's talk there was a respectable smattering of men at a quick eyeball, helped no doubt by the fact that Olfactory Events is associated with Basenotes. Grant Osborne was there, multi-tasking as official photographer, court (as in Twitter) reporter and wine waiter. And very nice wine it was too.

For readers not familiar with Nick on Facebook, Twitter, his own blog G & T & That, or the one he co-writes with Lila and the Candy Perfume Boy, Fragrant Reviews, Nick spent 10 years in fragrance sales at a branch of Boot's in his home town of Bristol, before landing a plum job with niche perfumery Les Senteurs in London last August, since when he hasn't looked back.

And before I get into my account of the talk proper, a word about the name of the event may be in order: "A Voyage Round My Collection". For it struck me that a lot of people in Perfume Land are on voyages of some kind at the moment: there's Olfactoria's Travels, while the byline of Bloody Frida's blog is "a perfume journey". And the Candy Perfume Boy recently wrote about "10 Things I Have Learnt On My Scented Journey". So you know, quite a few journeys all told. And of course I do a fair bit of travelling myself. But even factoring that in, the current traffic patterns are still well below American Idol levels.

Nick had set out his bottle collection on a table in the corner, and he and Lila sat in front of the imposing fireplace and adopted a sort of chat show format, with Lila in the role of host. Nick talked through each of the fragrances he had selected: how he came to find it and at what point in his life, a bit about the notes and the nose who created it, and also what associations it conjured up for him. It was a very informal affair - with interjections and questions from the floor, including a lot of ribald free assocation: "It's the citrus that keeps on giving", "it smells like a boudoir-y temple" etc, which was a source of much merriment.

So here in brief are the "stops" on Nick's tour of his collection, based on my scribbled notes, so apologies in advance for any material inaccuracies!

CK BE

Bought by Nick's mum for him at the tender age of 11, because he had seen Paula Yates describe it in glowing terms on The Big Breakfast. Comments ranged from "soapy fougere" to "freshly washed man" (which isn't actually much of a range come to think of it!), and there was speculation as to whether the formulation might have been changed since Be was launched - I remember it as being more citrus-y, but I could be wrong.

YSL M7

This was the scent which tipped Nick from regular cologne-wearer into raging perfumista. It was one of the first perfumes to feature oud, and was accompanied by a very raunchy press campaign. Whipping out his iPad, Grant stepped up to yet another role (props / special effects) and googled an example of a poster ad for M7 with a reclining male nude, whose focal point was nicely showcased, let's just say. Why was I not surprised to learn that there are 165 positive reviews of M7 on Basenotes? : - ) Okay, I jest, for it was a pretty ground-breaking scent at the time. One audience member described it as "borderline between chemist and sweet shop", and "cherry lips" (a confectionery line that may only resonate with British nationals over the age of 40) were also mentioned, but not in a bad way.

ESTEE LAUDER BEYOND PARADISE

Nick considered Beyond Paradise to be one of the best feminines to have come out at the time (2003). Created by Calice Becker, it is characterised by an accord called "Eden's Mist", after the Eden Project in Cornwall, the largest indoor rain forest in the world. For Nick, Beyond Paradise conjured up a tropical island with a waterfall (think Herbal Essences shampoo adverts), and smelt of hairspray and violets. Nicola Pozzani, the Synesthetic Provocateur who led the Le Labo workshop I attended last year (though he now has his own company, SSENSE), pointed out that Beyond Paradise was Estée Lauder's "anti-J'Adore" release, while Luca Turin describes it in Perfumes: The Guide as a "balanced abstraction" rather than a representation of a tropical flower. I wasn't too sure about it myself - I think I prefer Lalique Flora Bella as balanced abstractions go - but I could see where they were coming from.

COMME DES GARÇONS MAN 2

This was the "boudoir-y" or "sexy temple" alluded to above. Created by Mark Buxton, who is also the nose behind Le Labo's Vetiver 46, it has notes of incense, vetiver and mahogany, and if my scribbles serve me, Nick's interest in this scent arose out of his liking for the original Gucci pour Homme with its combo of incense and cedar. This was pronounced (I think by Nick) to be "smoke on the skin", and it was the perfume I chose as my free sample at the end of the night, along with the one of Escentric Molecules 01 which we all received, courtesy of Lila.

GUERLAIN HOMME

Created in 2008 by Thierry Wasser - his first scent in his role as Guerlain's in-house perfumer - Guerlain Homme reminds Nick of a holiday in Australia, specifically Bondi Beach, and marked the start of his love affair with mint. To give you an idea, he is a born again fan of FM Geranium pour Monsieur. With one or two exceptions, the general view of Guerlain Homme was favourable, not least because the mint note is not of toothpaste proportions. "It's controlled mint!" piped up Tanya from the front row. With the help of Grant's iPad, we looked at yet another raunchy ad, this time a TV spot for Guerlain Homme. It bore the tag line "For the animal in you" and starred the obligatory hunky, pec-rippling male model and a full complement of big game animals.

GUERLAIN VOL DE NUIT EXTRAIT

One of Nick's Ebay bargains, two blotters sprayed with the parfum version of this classic scent from 1933 were reverentially passed around. It was not to everyone's taste (a bit dense, a bit aldehydic, a bit dark maybe), and we agreed that you need to be in a kick ass mood to wear it, but it spoke hauntingly to us of a bygone era of glamour and formality - and who knows, maybe someone had wafted it in the very function room in which we were sitting, at some point in the last 80 years...

CHANEL NO 19 EXTRAIT

We smelt the actual bottle top of this one, and the fact that I haven't taken any notes about it except the phrase "recent formulation" says to me that there wasn't a lot of discussion on the subject. I recall it as smelling like No 19, only more so. Hey, what do I know? I'm a Poudré girl, so shoot me!

CUIR DE LANCÔME

I introduced Nick to this one, to which he kindly made reference: we did a swap when he was still in Bristol and in return I got my hands on a sizeable decant of Diptyque Eau Duelle, which has now grown into a full bottle! Nick described Cuir de Lancôme as having "plummy leather" and "powdery amber" facets, and it was news to some of us that a leather note in perfumes is created by boiling birch tar - obvious, when you know how! Nick placed Cuir as somewhere between chorizo (this is not good) and luxury leather, and I would agree. It is quite full-on and slightly rough round the edges but I do love it myself, and would have chosen it as my free sample if I didn't already own a bottle (with annoying wobbly top).

GUERLAIN SPIRITUEUSE DOUBLE VANILLE

This was a Christmas present from Nick to himself, as he is a lover of vanilla in fragrance. Now I too think of myself as a bit of a "vanilla ho", not least because my less offensive nickname at school was Vanilla Mutton, however, I realised from testing this scent that I prefer my vanille to be single - or "simple" as the French might say. Or maybe I could tolerate it at double strength, but not with boozy notes thrown into the mix. Saying that, Tara tested this the following day on skin in Harrods and it wasn't half bad on her, but on the whole I give alcohol in fragrance a wide berth - of the beverage variety, I mean, as opposite to its important carrier role.

Although it didn't figure in the talk as such, we did also chat a bit about the nature of Iso E Super in our Escentric Molecules Molecule 01 sample. Tanya (who's proving to be a bit of a wag!) described it as the aromachemical equivalent of a "woofer", because it enhanced other components in a formulation (assuming there are any, which is famously not the case with Molecule 01). Neville went a step further by dubbing it "the monosodium glutamate of perfume", which had us all in fits of laughter.

After the session, Grant topped up our glasses and we milled around, chatting to other members and inquiring about their own "scented journeys". By a strange coincidence, I found someone with the same thyroid condition as me, and we had a good old chin wag about symptoms, dosages and pill chopping tactics. It was nearly 11pm by the time the last of us rolled out of the club - and in my case, straight into KFC. (Note to self to insist on breast next time.)

So yes, a great night was had by all and thanks are due to Nick, Lila, Grant and Escentual, who stumped up some free testers. Was this "olfactory event" worth the voyage from Stafford? You bet it was, and I have already booked to come down for the next one...

Photo of the New Cavendish Club from whoseview.co.uk, photo of Eden Project from Karen Roe on Flickr, photo of leather ornament from TheWristbandit on Flickr, photo of monosodium glutamate from dltq on Flickr, other photos my own.

When Continents Collide: Sampling The Le Labo City Exclusives In London, And My Shamefully Suggestible Schnoz

2012-01-29T01:19:00.002Z

I have just come back from two days in London. No, that is not strictly correct - it was 29 hours in London - but it felt like two full days and more, as I packed a lot in. The night I arrived I attended Nick Gilbert's talk: "Voyage Around My Collection" (the first event of the newly formed group, Perfume Lovers London), then the next day I popped into Seymour Place to check out the new branch of Les Senteurs and watch Nick at work, before meeting Tara of Olfactorias Travels for a most enjoyable four hour sniffathon in Harrods and Harvey Nichols.

And before the talk on Thursday I swung by Liberty's, where I managed to fit in a fairly businesslike romp through some of the Le Labo range with which I wasn't familiar, including most of the City Exclusives. Poivre 23, the London one, was clearly displayed on the counter on its own, and when I inquired of the sales assistant if I had missed the window of opportunity when the full set was available in the capital, he said that I had, then promptly whipped out the testers in question from a drawer against the wall (see photo). Yay!

I would like to stress that I smelt these scents (except for Vanille 44 and Baie Rose 26) "exclusively" on card, and didn't even stop to note down my thoughts as I sometimes do, but am relying on my short term memory to conjure them up again in my mind. Moreover, though I kept the blotters carefully segregated in a clear film wallet, I can't truthfully say that most of them have retained enough of their scent to act as an aide-memoire today. And obviously that was the first port of call on my London visit, and I have smelt a TON of stuff since... So please take these mini-reviews as impressionistic jottings that give you a rough indication of whether a particular fragrance was a thumbs up, a thumbs down or a maybe.

Aldehyde 44 (Dallas, Texas)

Notes: aldehydes, neroli, tuberose absolute, narcissus absolute, jasmine sambac, vanilla, musks and woods

A bath bomb of sparkling, granular aldehydes up each nostril - nay, the aldehydic equivalent of an Apollo mission blasted off inside your nose. I did not hang around for the drydown, so I don't know how this went on, however, the general consensus in the blogosphere seems to be fairly positive. The sales assistant told me that Aldehyde 44 was inspired by the perfumer's vision of Dallas as an ultra-modern, glitzy city built on oil wealth, whose citizens are confident, sassy go-getters groomed to within an inch of their life (my paraphrase).

Vanille 44 (Paris - France, not Texas!)

Notes: natural bergamot, incense, mandarin, gaiac, vanille bourbon, muscenone, pipol, hedione

Okay - hold on a minute - how come this has the same number as Aldehyde 44...? That doesn't seem right. Anyway, being the "card-carrying vanilla ho" that I am, I gave this some prime arm space and liked it from the word go all the way to the far drydown, not that it developed much. It reminded me very much of Diptyque Eau Duelle ie a soft, mysterious, woody vanilla that treads that fine line between cheap bath product or foody vanilla and rich, boozy "70% cocoa solids" vanilla for hardcore vanilla lovers (where the cocoa is purely metaphorical, you understand). Yes, this was very nice, very easy to wear, but I don't need it as I already have Eau Duelle and a sample of Creed Sublime Vanille and a decant of Annick Goutal Vanille Exquise - in short, I have all the main congenial vanilla bases covered.

Poivre 23 (London - England, not the one in Kimble County, Texas again!)

Notes: pepper, cistus labdanum, incense, sandalwood, patchouli, vanilla, gaiac and styrax

Now you will never hear me complain about the presence of pepper in a perfume, whether black, pink, white or blue. I am very partial to the stuff, cliche'd or not. My initial impression was of a strong jolt of pepper, mixed with woods and incense and tingly spice. The overall effect was soft and rather quirky in a luxe pot pourri kind of a way, and I was suprised that I liked it even during this very brisk opening. The fragrance strip does have a lingering note of vanilla on it even now, and I suspect that the rounding and grounding duo of patchouli and vanilla lends this scent its particular charm for me. I wouldn't mind a sample of Poivre 23 in fact, but didn't bother to ask, as in my experience Le Labo are not noted for their largesse in this regard.

(On a side note, as it is not a City Exclusive, I even surprised myself by not hating Patchouli 24, a five star Luca Turin scent I had not dared to try, ever since LT likened it in "Perfumes: The Guide" to the smell of decaying books and chemicals in a lab at Moscow State University. I can totally see where he is coming from with this description, as the opening is very medicinal. The SA said he likes to spray Patchouli 24 on his scarf before he goes to bed, so that it is at the optimum stage of wearability when he gets up the following morning. And sure enough it is as odd as three, but by no means ghastly as I expected - more hauntingly weird. Definitely a dusty library vibe going on, in fact I would go so far as to say that - to adapt Tarleisio's phrase - this is an "intergalactic musty library" scent, if such an image is not too preposterous in itself. But Patchouli 24 is pretty out there, it must be said.)

Gaiac 10 (Tokyo)

Notes: olibanum, gaiac wood, cedar absolute, musk

I was interrupted by my phone going off as I was testing this one, so probably didn't give it my full attention. The opening was woody in a slightly sharp way: I do like gaiac wood as a rule, though it is teamed with cedar wood here, which may account for the initial roughness. Gaiac 10 didn't seem to have any distinctive qualities to it, though I daresay it probably softened down nicely if I had had a chance to revisit the strip much later in its drydown, instead of being on my second glass of white at Nick's talk by that point. The blotter does actually smell quite sheer and pellucid now, which is a pleasant surprise.

Baie Rose 26 (Chicago)

Notes: allspice berries, pink pepper, aldehydes, ambrox, clove, pepper, rose, musk, cedar

Now I have sniffed this scent in Chicago with Notes from the Ledge, and remembered it as being a not terribly remarkable peppery, spicy, woody rose. Mindful on the other hand of Olfactoria's recent acquisition of Tubereuse 40 when she was in New York in November, I was curious to try it. I asked the SA if he also had a tester of "the Tubereuse", and he heard "Baie Rose" and proferred a fragrance strip presprayed with the Chicago Exclusive instead!

Oh my goodness - I am ashamed to report that in my nose's eye, believing that I was actually smelling Tubereuse 40, for a few seconds I actually DID smell a languid hothouse floral scent - the sort of warm, heady, moist air that assails your nostirls as you enter the tropical house of a botanical gardens. Now this may not bear any resemblance to the real Tubereuse 40 - a quick glance at Olfactoria's review of this one suggests not - but it was a "genuine false" olfactory impression that was very vivid until the SA dispelled my illusion by explaining that he didn't have a Tubereuse tester and that I was in fact smelling Baie Rose 26...whereupon a whoosh of pepper and wood kicked in!

I was suddenly transported back to the Belle Dope phantom incense moment with Katie Puckrik in California, which in turn echoed the famous pistachio ice cream incident of my youth, where the waiter brought pistachio ice cream instead of lime, and my father proceeded to make me believe it really was lime to save waste. And it actually did taste of lime as I was eating it, my dad being the Svengali that he was.

So not only is my nose a bit of a blunt instrument at the best of times to start with, but to compound matters it is clearly highly suggestible. Now if I am a typical punter this may go a long way towards explaining why consumers buy a fragrance because - in the heat of the moment and the smartness of the store - they succumb to the persuasive patter of the SA who is describing it in seductively lyrical terms. For that brief window between "spritz on blotter and take bottle to till", that is the customer's olfactory reality.

It's just a little bit scary, don't you think?

And have I missed any more City Exclusive cities that are also in Texas? : - )

Photo of Liberty's from ell brown on Flickr, photo of Dallas from rkrichardson on Flickr, photo of vanilla from JosAclito Tirados on Flickr, photo of pepper from ralph and jenny on Flickr, photo of arch from matt hutchinson on Flickr, photo of pistachio ice cream from kusine on Flickr, Le Labo photo my own

Lenthéric Tweed: Am I Fabric-ating False Memories Of My Mother?

2012-01-26T11:46:00.000Z

My mother would have been 92 this year. That is old, but by no means unusual these days: my aunt is 91 and my dad's cousin just turned 92, and celebrated by selling her life's work of paintings in one go (76 at the last count!).

But sadly, my mother died 13 years ago today, when she was 78. She had really hoped to make it to 80, but it was not to be. I miss her as keenly now as if it were yesterday. In a post in 2010 on Bonkers, I wrote about my mother's death and reflected back on her "scented past" - pretty threadbare basically - and not helped by a thoughtless Christmas gift of Rochas Byzance from me. I thought it worth linking back to it on this, her "anniversary", as Bonkers was even smaller back then, and some readers may have missed it. Apart from anything, it is notable for being a rare example of a Bonkers post written in a sombre and largely unfacetious tone.

Since I wrote it, I sought out a purse spray of Lenthéric Tweed, which is the perfume I think she wore of her own accord. I certainly remember seeing a chequered tin of the talcum powder, and had a notion that my mother also owned the perfume. I am not sure of the exact vintage of the one I managed to find on Ebay - it may not be quite old enough - but it certainly doesn't smell contemporary. It has that forbidding, rather manly, chypre quality to it of its Lenthéric stable mate, Style, or perhaps of Cabochard. I say "chypre" - Fragrantica describe the base as "oriental" - and looking at the notes it does seem to have a foot in both camps. I couldn't find a single "proper" review of Tweed, which in itself may be significant.

Top notes - bergamot, cinnamon and geranium
Middle notes - ylang-ylang, jasmine, lavender and orange flower
Basenotes - oakmoss, patchouli, sandalwood, benzoin, vanilla and vetiver

Hmm, the notes do look a bit austere to me. I was going to say "dog's breakfast", but that might sound disrespectful. I sprayed it on last night and again this morning, and it wasn't for me. I could imagine it being the signature scent of a very strict maths mistress with her hair scraped back into a bun, if she wore any perfume at all. Though that wasn't my mother at all - quite the opposite. I don't mean she couldn't count or anything - I am talking about the severity aspect. There again, Tweed does smell outdoorsy and a little masculine, and my mother loved the rugged scenery, rough fabrics and sludgy colours of the West of Ireland, which I think it does rather conjure up. And I am probably being unfair to it - Tweed is just of its time, and that style was simply too green / sharp / mossy for my taste.

So I don't really want to associate Tweed with my mum after all. Or maybe just the talcum powder, which I think was innocuous enough. And nor do I want to associate her with Rochas Byzance particularly. And when I cleared out her house I also found a bottle of Opium, which still smells good today. How did she come by that? I will never know.

So I guess I will just have to accept that I have this passionate perfume interest now, and I also have many happy memories of my mother. However, good - and genuine - perfume memories of her may forever elude me.

Photo of tweed fabric from harristweedshop.ocm, other photos my own

KLOUT: A Force To Be Reckoned With Or Kommercial Klaptrap Koncealed As Kudos?

2012-01-24T02:16:00.001Z

I used to do Pilates. Then in December, my instructor upped and emigrated to New Zealand, and I haven't done any exercise since. December was probably also the last time I did any "klouting" to speak of. For anyone not familiar with Klout, it is the latest social media craze. Unlike Facebook and Twitter, where you can have actual conversations (after a fashion) with other members, the way you interact on Klout is by awarding...well, klouts...to other people whom you consider to be influential in a chosen field, be they journalists, TV presenters, bloggers or whoever. A klout is like a token of approval, a recognition of merit, and the more you receive, the higher your ranking on an index that runs between 0 and 100.

But awarding klouts to other people is just one way in which your overall Klout score is calculated. A raft of variables is taken into account, including numbers of @mentions, retweets, likes, and comments.

As Klout explains on its website:

"The Klout Score measures influence based on your ability to drive action. Every time you create content or engage you influence others. The Klout Score uses data from social networks in order to measure:

True Reach: How many people you influence

Amplification: How much you influence them

Network Impact: The influence of your network"

Note the phrase "drive action"...It is significant and I shall come back to it later.

I just checked and my own score has gone up 3 points (to 50) since I last looked. Yes, people have kindly carried on klouting me while I stopped dead in my tracks six weeks ago. So why did I do that? Well, partly because I was travelling most of that month, but also because I started to doubt the meaningfulness of the whole Klout system.

For starters, my fields of expertise or influence include Perfume and Travel & Tourism (which are fair enough, given the focus of Bonkers), but also Chocolate, Weddings, War, and to a lesser extent Hot Chocolate, Toolbar and Cougar. Okay, weddings...hmmm...that might be something to do with my posts on Kate Middleton's wedding scent, Illuminum White Gardenia Petals. But war? And hot chocolate? And toolbar??? It is baffling.

So that was one thing, and another flaw as I saw it is that it is considered good form to klout back people kind enough to klout you, so to a certain extent the mutual klouting cancels itself out, like when you retweet somebody's blog post and they return the favour. Ironically therefore, my being paralysed with indecision lately and failing to klout anyone in return may explain why my score has risen in the interim.

But the main reason why my confidence in the Klout system faltered is the fact that notable blogs, personalities or organisations such as Now Smell This, Katie Puckrik, Chandler Burr and Roja Dove, Andy Tauer and Ormonde Jayne, IFRA North America and the Fragrance Foundation (to name but a few) - none of whom were registered members, but who had managed to clock up Klout scores anyway - had rankings that were behind my own. That's like saying a marathon runner isn't a sports person because they've never entered a 1 km fun run wearing fancy dress. As a measure of influence - even confined to social media - Klout's net was surely way too narrow.

And then, out of the blue, right around the time I was having my dark night of the soul about the fallibility of Klout's measurement methods, I received an email from Katie Puckrik herself, congratulating me on my ranking and explaining that she had just signed up, having read about Klout in a "well-placed article" in the NY Times. However, her early enthusiasm was already tempered by a reservation about which social media were being analysed, Katie being of course famous in particular for her blog and her YouTube perfume reviews.

Katie: "...unless I'm mistaken, they only seem to take Twitter/Facebook into account, at least judging from the stats they pull up. I have a sneaking feeling that my YouTube activities aren't factored into my ranking."

So I wrote back, explaining my own misgivings, and a Klout-centric "Perfume Pen Pals" exchange ensued. Katie sent me the link to the article in the NY Times, which further confirmed my surprise that I had such a high score - a score that would gain me admittance to exclusive society bashes in Manhattan, no less - which seemed a very silly state of affairs, given the relative nobody I actually am.

Vanessa: "Well, I found that NYT article really quite surprising - in a strange Emperor's new clothes kind of a way. At 47 (my Klout score at the time, not my age), I might just be admitted to those velvet rope do's - seems quite topsy turvy really."

Katie, meanwhile, wrote to Klout, inquiring about the basis of the rankings, specifically whether her YouTube and Blogger presence was factored into her overall score.

It sounds almost too good to be true, but the person who replied to her email was called Kameron (with a "K"!) Maybe all the staff have to kloutify their Christian names as a condition of working there... : - )

Hi Katie

I apologize for the delay.

At this time, the only networks that contribute to your Klout score is Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Foursquare and Google+. The other networks that you can connect for your Klout profile, we are still testing.

Please let me know if you have any additional questions.

Thank you,
Kameron

So far, so lopsided. I had not even heard of Foursquare, for instance, so how influential can that be? And Google+ is pretty new.

Vanessa: "...YouTube is absolutely massive - think of the reach and impact of those viral clips of cats playing the piano etc that are seen and circulated by millions. How is that not influence? And what about the luminaries who are very influential, but do not engage with social media particularly - like Luca Turin? At least I don't think he does, whereas I have seen photos of Andy Tauer's hotel rooms in London and Chicago, and one of a chicken in his oven."

And then I started wondering about what Klout is trying to achieve at the end of the day, and have a feeling it might be something to do with linking up influential people (as determined by Klout) and brand owners.

"Free Stuff

Klout Perks are exclusive products or experiences that you earn based on your influence. Influencers have earned sweet Perks like laptops and airline tickets."

Sweet perks, eh?

"Don't Stress

You have no obligation to talk about the product. You're
welcome to tell the world you love it, you dislike it, or say nothing at all."

No worries - I had no intention of stressing!

Then in the FAQs on Perks we learn more about how their location is determined:

"Often companies are interested in giving Perks to influencers in a specific neighborhood. For instance, pizzerias in North Beach don't care how influential you are if you live in NYC. We look at a collection of data to determine your location, including the zip code that you put in your Klout profile, your Facebook location and your Twitter location (don't worry, we never share our data)."

Well, hold on a minute...the Klout people don't appear to have determined my location very closely. The only perk I have earned so far is a $10 voucher off an online sports gear company that I have never heard of, and which I can confirm is nowhere near where I live and exert my all-important influence... ; - )

And finally, when you click on the "Business" tab of the Klout website, the full purpose of the scheme becomes apparent.

"Klout measures influence based on the ability to drive action, not potentially misleading metrics like follower or friend count."

"Drive action" is the key phrase here - it isn't about driving action for its own sake but ultimately - or so it seems to me - about driving consumer purchases.

"Klout has analyzed over 85 million people on major social networks, and is used by over 3000 brands and applications."

And now for the bottom line:

Your customers don't trust advertising, they trust their peers and influencers. Get your product into the right hands and let them do the talking for you.

So by engaging with social media generally and by busily klouting one another and increasing our scores, we are grooming ourselves to become better brand ambassadors for a host of consumer products, like self-fattening farm animals.

Katie: "There I was thinking it was a simple aggregator, ranking influence in a social stock market kind of way, when in fact it exists primarily to make Klout bigger. And in such a clever way, because here we are scrambling around to get Klout to acknowledge us, while all they are interested in is that we acknowledge it."

So tell me, are you bothered about "doing the talking" for a pizzeria in North Beach or wherever you may live? And if consumers don't trust advertising, having seen how we may be being used as brand "mules", do you still trust Klout?

Now I gather that HR Managers are starting to look at Klout rankings as a measure of what sort of "mover and shaker" a job candidate might be. Perhaps they are the new gap year or Duke of Edinburgh award. So I am not saying that an individual might not benefit in terms of career advancement or admission to fashion shows and the like on the strength of his or her Klout score. However, fundamentally it smacks to me of a peer network marketing scheme built on vanity.

In fact, on an impulse I just googled "Klout" and "vanity", and found an article describing it as the "ultimate vanity metric". So there you go - there's an actual term for it!

And to everyone who has klouted me up to this point, thanks for that, as I know it was done in good faith and I appreciate the support. Only now I am not so sure that Klout has all the klout it's kracked up to have. And neither does Katie, despite having a "K" in her name...

Photo of Klout screen from offthegrid-pr.com, photo of graph from ubergizmo.com, photo of chocolate from en.wikipedia.org, photo of Katie from beauty-video-tutorial.com, photo of Katie Puckrik Smells from handpickedmedia.co.uk, photo of velvet rope from howtobeamoneymagnet.com, photo of cat playing the piano from curezone.com, photo of pizza restaurant from foodhoe.com, photo of Klout logo from level343.com

The Top Sniffs - And Nasty Niffs - of 2011!

2012-01-19T18:35:00.078Z

This is my third "Top Sniffs and Nasty Niffs" post on Bonkers, and I note that I am a little earlier with it this year - I just snuck my 2010 list in at the end of January last time.

I will follow more or less the same format, and as ever the same caveats apply:

I haven't smelt most of the 2011 releases

Yes, once again I've looked back at the Bible which is Now Smell This's compilation of releases, and there are loads of fragrances I haven't tried in both the niche and designer categories. There are simply too many perfumes coming out each year to track. And even though I try to be quite focused in my approach, I still can't keep up with the new launches. For example, there has been a lot of excitement on the blogs this year about Aftelier Secret Garden and DSH Pandora, neither of which has crossed my path (not that I think they would appeal particularly, but still).

And I was in Zurich twice this year - including in Andy Tauer's mate's shop(!) - but there was neither sight nor sound of The Pentachords. Nor did I manage to catch up with Sonoma Scent Fig Tree, Atelier Cologne Vanille Insensée or Ambre Nue, Myrrhiad from the Huitième Art range, Blask from Humiecki & Graef (though the name alone is reeling me in), Byredo Seven Veils (another teaser name!), Neela Vermeire's fun trio or the Agonist line, to name but a few.

On the other hand, I was fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to sniff the 2011 ranges from Blood Concept, Olfactive Studio and Andrea Maack, as well as the latest launches by Parfumerie Générale, Miller Harris, Armani Privé and Hermès. Moreover, thanks to the good offices of fellow bloggers, I was sent samples of some other hard to come by scents like Diane von Furstenberg Diane and Cartier L'Heure Fougueuse (thanks, Natalie and Suzanne!) So I haven't done too badly all things considered, greatly helped by my peripatetic job.

It is only my opinion

It is always worth repeating - especially when I get to the "Nasty Niffs" section - that this list is based on my own highly subjective and somewhat shy and retiring taste. If readers have an idea of the fragrance styles which appeal to me, they may find these assessments (or flippant nuggets, as many of them are) helpful in the overall mix of views, to compare against those of bloggers with markedly different taste from mine.

WARNING - "BEST OF" LIST REGURGITATION ALERT!

Yes, I am sorry - it is not intentional, and I deliberately haven't looked at any "Best of" round up posts since they came out (which is a while ago now), but inevitably there will be major crossover - if not quite complete congruence! - with other bloggers' top scents. So apologies in advance for any sense of "déjà lu" readers may experience.

OVERALL TOP SNIFF OF 2011

If I confine myself to scents actually released in 2011, once again it is a dead heat between two contenders, this time a niche and a designer one...(You didn't shoot me last year for indecision, but feel free to take a pot shot now!)

Amouage Honour Woman

A heartbreaking white floral blend showcasing a prettily sexy tuberose note, balanced with an astringent dash of rhubarb, and seguing into a moody incense and vetiver base. Guaranteed to make the wearer feel pert, alert and a shameless flirt. What's not to love?!

Prada Candy

In her review of Prada Candy on Grain de Musc, Denyse Beaulieu quotes Marian Bendeth, the global fragrance expert, explaining the rationale behind the scent: "It's for women in their 40s who are freakin' out!" Denyse goes on to add her own take: "a few grams of sweetness in a brutal world are nothing to sniff at", and I couldn't agree more. Trust me, I've tested it and Candy also works a treat for the over 50's.

Between the caramel and vanilla it has a sweet and girlish facet that may well represent lost youth (apart from anything, we children of the 60s ate far too many sweets, as evidenced by our amalgam smiles forty years on). Meanwhile, the fluffy benzoin serves as - no, I'm not going to say an angora sweater or a cashmere stole - Candy is more enveloping and protective than that. It's a flak jacket or a 13 tog duvet to wrap yourself in on the sofa while watching Desperate Housewives. For you are insulated from the ills of the world while wearing Candy, even the dispiriting realisation that it is downhill from here - dermatologically and in most ways, really - all the way to the free bus pass (assuming that that perk, like pensions, is not deferred till we are dead).

TOP SNIFFS OF 2011 (NICHE)

Amouage Honour Woman (see above)

Hermès Santal Massoia (ghostly milky sandalwood - blink and you'll miss it)

Armani Privé La Femme Bleue (not enough chocolate, but the gleaming bluebottle's bottom of a bottle cuts it a lot of slack)

Penhaligon's Juniper Sling (thirst aid for a heatwave)

By Kilian Sweet Redemption (the tail end of an Indian summer)

Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet (the carnation version of Bas de Soie, and I don't even like carnation)

TOP SNIFFS OF 2011 (DESIGNER)

Prada Candy (as above)

Bottega Veneta EDP (apricot suede mist - how Daim Blond should have smelt instead of being "suede-scented white noise")

I bought Mrs Bonkers Senior Bottega Veneta for Christmas, taking her full bottle collection to three: Coco Chanel, Burberry Original Woman, and this one. Now it so happens that Michel Almairac, the nose behind Bottega Veneta, also created Burberry Woman. How many other people can claim that two thirds of their perfume collection is by Michel Almairac?

Tom Ford Violet Blonde (more a case of Iris & Jasmine Blonde, but that's fine by me)

Cartier Baiser Volé (lipstick, powder and lilies in HD, 3D and any other "D" that is well-defined - "DD"?)

L'Agent Provocateur L'Agent (Betty Boo in chaps)

Balenciaga Paris L'Essence (cut glass & green violets)

Thierry Mugler Alien Le Goût du Parfum (anything crossed with Butterkist is likely to be an improvement on the original)

Oscar de La Renta L'Esprit d'Oscar (fizzy orange marmalade)

Elie Saab EDP (radiant, relentlessly girly and happy clappy - the Alpha Movement of modern chypres)

Estée Lauder Wood Mystique (entry level oud)

Diane Von Furstenberg EDP (broadly in Violet Blonde vein, but without the gilded bird cage-cum-retro radiator-cum-hand bell bottle)

Chanel No 19 Poudré (No 19 for wimps - thank you, Chanel!)

It is interesting to see that more of my favourite releases fall into the designer category, whereas last year things were pretty evenly balanced. In the perfumista community, I am probably one of the bloggers with most time for designer scents generally, and my list will inevitably reflect that. However, my selection is even more skewed towards the mainstream launches this time, because frankly they just happened to be very good in 2011.

TOP VALUE SCENT OF 2011 AND POSSIBLY ALL TIME!

Lidl Suddenly Madame Glamour (superb Coco Mademoiselle dupe - weaker, but at 1/15 the price it would be churlish to complain)

FAVOURITE NEW DISCOVERIES FROM PAST YEARS

Christian Dior 1947 New Look (Birgit, bottled)

Had I discovered this in 2010, it would have pipped Eau Duelle off its perch to tie for joint first place with PG Bois Naufragé. Elegant, cool and poised, with a tangy hint of ylang ylang infusing a layer of cold cream.

Puredistance1 (luxe fruity musk - plush yet airy - truly a "1" off)

Cartier L'Heure Promise (the wispiest iris scent, ever)

Stephen Burlingham Truly (a luxe fruity green musk)

Carner D600 (dark, woody gourmand)

Guerlain Cologne No 68 (powdery iris and citrus - and 66 other things, obviously!)

Lostmarc'h L'Eau de L'Hermine (scintillating lemon musk)

Lostmarc'h Ael-Mat (Brittany, bottled)

Amouage Lyric (I take back - take away? - my previous curry slur)

L'Artisan Parfumeur Mon Numero No 8 (scrubbed up iris)

Mona di Orio Musc (another sparkling musk, with a subtly animalic base)

OUTRIGHT NASTY NIFFS OF 2011

Chanel Jersey (being poked up the nostril with a pointy sprig of lavender)

L'Artisan Batacuda (barracuda?)

Annick Goutal Mon Parfum Chéri (patchouli squared, with a bit more added for luck)

Love Chloé, Eau Intense (Chloé + Intense = Tautology)

Most if not all of the Blood Concepts.

(Now I am not above a gimmick - hey, I like the free toy in the box of cereal as much as the next regressive 50-something - but puh-lease! If I wanted to smell of my own blood, I would take up self-harming.)

The more metallic end of the Andrea Maack spectrum. (I clearly have issues with metal.)

RELEASES I DIDN'T CARE FOR PARTICULARLY

As in past years, here are some of the (mostly niche) releases from 2011 that I didn't like as much as I expected to, or as much as other people did, or both.

Tom Ford Santal Blush (90% santal, 10% blush)

Parfumerie Générale Indochine (Posh Spice with a weedy voice - sorry, Victoria!)

Serge Lutens Jeux de Peau (games involving jam-smeared bread boards will only end in baby wipes)

All of the Olfactive Studio range.

(These may in fact have been nasty niffs, but my recall is a bit fuzzy, so I am giving them the benefit of the doubt and upgrading my reaction to mere indifference.)

The other Andrea Maacks that didn't feature a prominent metal note.

RELEASES I THINK I MIGHT HAVE LIKED IF I COULD HAVE GOT MY MITTS ON THEM

Atelier Cologne Vanille Insensée (If you can have such a person as a "card-carrying vanilla ho", that would be me, so this is a must-sniff)

Atelier Cologne Ambre Nue ("naked" sounds so much more promising than "sumptuous, rich, treacly amber with a weird herbal note")

RELEASES I DOUBT I WOULD HAVE LIKED BUT AM CURIOUS TO TRY ANYWAY

Serge Lutens De Profundis (sometimes you should stare into the abyss)

DSH Pandora (I may regret opening the box, but I'd do it)

Vero Kern Onda (epic old school chypre by all accounts)

Aftelier Secret Garden (I appear to be one of the few not in on the secret)

RELEASES I BET I WOULDN'T HAVE LIKED AND HAVE NO CURIOSITY ABOUT WHATSOEVER

Far too many to mention, but they cover the whole spectrum from "kitchen sink" niche scents to Hello Kitty Noir and Benefit Ring My Bella.

Actually, I take it back - that bottle is knock-out!

HAVE I MISSED ANYTHING? LET ME KNOW!

Photo of I Love Candy from purpleibis2.spreadshirt.net, photo of Glut book from kaboodle.com, photo of repetition poster from nhsdesigns.com, photo of Amouage Honour Woman from parfumsraffy.com, photo of Prada Candy from ftape.com, photo of Hermès Santal Massoia from makeuptalk.com, photo of Juniper Sling from popsop.com, photo of Bottega Veneta from le-citydeluxe.com, photo of L'Agent perfume from agentprovocateur.com, photo of Esprit d'Oscar from amazon.com, photo of Chanel No 19 Poudré from fragrancesandbeauty.com, photo of Lidl perfume from hellocotton.com, photo of Dior New Look 1947 from fragrantica, photo of Chanel Jersey from herworldplus.com, photo of Atelier Cologne Vanille Insensée from ateliercologne.com, photo of Aftelier Secret Garden from fragrantica.com

2012: My Bonkers List Of Perfume Resolutions And Why Nobody Needs Two Daisy Bottle Tops

2012-01-17T19:08:00.066Z

So if Twentieth Night was on Saturday, that must make today Twenty-Third Day, which you could say is a bit late to be making New Year's Resolutions, perfume-related or otherwise - I have almost certainly broken a few before they are even made. Ah, but it is only 17th January though, which doesn't sound so far behind the curve of resolve.

I am very boring when it comes to resolutions in my offline life. Every year I recycle the same old suspects, knowing full well that I probably won't keep any of them much beyond the end of the week. I am attached to this particular set of goals, not least because several have synonyms that rhyme:

Drink more (not alcohol, ideally) - hydrate

Use that body brush from two Christmases ago - exfoliate

Floss more - extricate

Cook more dishes from scratch - marinate and gratinate

Stop pretending to be an American by farting about on the computer till 2am, and get to bed at a sensible time, preferably on the same day as I got up - stay up less late

Eat more fish - eg skate and whitebait

The only resolution I have adhered to from this list is the one about eating more fish (though not the regul-at-ory varieties, admittedly - more your cod and salmon).

So given my dismal failure rate with run-of-the-mill New Year's Resolutions, you would think I could do no worse by setting myself some perfume related ones, so here goes:

Grow my nails

I am an inveterate nail biter, and find it increasingly difficult to prise off the stoppers on 1ml plastic vials. (Apart from which, I have two pots of Chanel Particulière and one of Paradoxal that are about six shades behind the current fashion because I haven't had a complete set of nails of the requisite length since 2009.)

Give up 2.5ml glass atomisers as a bad job

The problems I have had with this particular atomiser style and its so-called "snap fit" mechanism have been well documented elsewhere on Bonkers. Recent retrials have been just as messy and hopeless, and it is time to admit defeat. I know that it is all about the knack - hey, I have the knack - and still it doesn't work two times out of three.

Keep the office tidy

What's that got to do with perfume, you may ask? Well, a clear desk would be conducive to work, and if I don't work I shan't be able to support my perfume habit in all its manifestations, from financing new bottle purchases to decanting supplies and perfumista meet-ups. Today I started the big tidying operation in earnest, proceeding inch by inch, like police conducting a fingertip search or archaeologists on a dig. Intriguingly, amongst the effluvium of printed matter of every kind, I found laminated visitor badges from factories in Slovenia and Poland that I must have forgotten to return on my way out.

And in case anyone is curious, the Slovenian for "visitor" would appear to be:

OBISKOVALEC

Buy what I like, and deal with it

I have given up all resolutions along the lines of: "You must drain all your samples before you buy a full bottle", or "you must wait three months from the onset of the lemming before acting on it, in case it goes away again" - or even the "no list-skipping rule" whereby you buy the bottle you had in mind to buy, and don't allow yourself to snap up something else that you have only just taken a shine to, which then jumps to the top of the queue. All these rules are so easy to break that I will not restrain my spending, just live with the guilt that will inevitably follow. In practice, I am buying far fewer full bottles than I did in the first two years of my hobby - maybe not more than one a quarter? - and have of course largely perfected the art of the "fondle and replace manoeuvre".

NB Perfume sample travel bags are one exception to the above licence to spend. I am the Imelda Marcos of the perfume sample bag, owning at least seven or eight of the things, yet I only ever take one with me on even the longest of trips. Perhaps we perfumistas crave an endless variety of these bags instead of shoes or handbags, but personally I don't think I should be encouraged. Verdict: Stay out of T K Maxx!

Plough through my pending pile of perfume books

You know how it is - nice "literary" books pile up on the bedside table, like Lisa Chaney's biography of Coco Chanel: An Intimate Life, Damage Control by Denise Hamilton or Le Parfum by J-C Ellena, and then on an impulse I will go and buy the latest Kathy Reichs with "bones" in the title, and all my good intentions to read these more worthy tomes go out the window. In fairness, I have actually read Le Parfum now (it was slimmer than a Mills & Boon, luckily), so I may be able to make short work of The Alchemy of Scent, with which I understand it has a large amount of overlap.

Don't keep a scent diary

Okay, so this is more a case of letting go of a resolution previously held. For I did make a note of my SOTD up until April 2011 - quite religiously in fact - and have scarcely been back to see what I wore on "this day last year", type of thing. Nor can I be bothered to count the number of times I wore x, y and z scents, to see what styles or individual perfumes I am particularly drawn to. It isn't that I wouldn't find such information interesting - I would, and I admire the likes of Undina for her detailed analysis of her own scent behaviour - but I just don't have the energy to crunch the numbers.

Lose the nose bag

On the shelf above my head is a brown paper bag that looks like a nose bag. It contains a jumble of un- or once-tested scents waiting for another trial and review of their long term category status. It is the perfume sample equivalent of Guantanamo Bay or a prison wing full of lifers on appeal, and this unfortunate state of limbo mustn't be allowed to go on another year.

Don't keep perfume boxes in the fridge

Cardboard is hygroscopic - those wavy boxes with blurry lettering and tide marks are trying to tell you something.

Next up: the "YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A USE FOR THIS - SO WHY ARE YOU KEEPING IT?" series:

Empty manufacturers' sample cards

There used to be a vial of perfume in there, but it has either been used up or transferred to a travel bag, where the card would be a bulky inconvenience. Once a bulky inconvenience, always a bulky inconvenience. Verdict: chuck!

The innards of Serge Lutens boxes

Serge Lutens boxes have particularly complex internal architecture, on account of the fact that they come with both screw top and interchangeable atomiser. If the innards of the box have managed to strike out on their own, it is time to set them free.

Empty atomisers impregnated with a particular scent

Wash or let go? I decided - against all my instincts - to try washing the more expensive atomisers in this motley collection of empty perfume decants. Will let you know if it works. They may be soaking some time...

Futile funnels

Narrow, with a short stubby neck that is neither use nor ornament. I'd be better off throwing away these pointless funnels and using that nice plastic bag for something else...

Multiple bottle tops

There is a reason for how I came to have two tops for the same bottle. See if anyone can guess - it can be like one of those lateral thinking puzzles, you know, the ones involving a chair, a noose and a block of ice, or where a man cuts off his arm and sends it to another man in the post.... : - )

Upping the ante further, I appear to have about 14? atomiser tops to fit just one remaining bottom in this spiral 10ml size. How on earth did that happen? And why am I hanging on to the other 13...?

Photo of shopaholic from glamriah.com, other photos my own

Twentieth Night: Taking The Christmas Tree Down And A Tale Of Two Festive Perfume Cards

2012-01-15T15:10:00.059Z

So I just finished my project late on Friday night, and yesterday I was a whirling - well, maybe more of a slowly twirling - dervish of activity: dishes washed and tumble drier emptied from Tuesday, plants watered, a load of washing on, prescription collected and....Xmas tree and decorations finally taken down(!). Not the one in the living room window facing the street, I hasten to add, which Mr Bonkers had already consigned to the garage in a timely manner. No, I mean the less conspicuous one in the conservatory at the back of the house, which hopefully only a handful of neighbours will have noticed after its due date for removal...

"That's shockingly slack of you!" I hear you cry, and it's fair comment. I may even have just heaped a year's worth of bad luck on my head by this failure to follow the tradition of taking down the tree and its trappings on Twelfth rather than Twentieth Night. But orderly routine and compliance with social convention (on any front!) - while not exactly strangers to Bonkers Towers - are certainly not seen there on more than an occasional pop-in basis.

And given that the paraphernalia of Christmas is still fresh in my mind, I will take this opportunity to post some pictures of my presents from Mr Bonkers this year: a corporate Christmas card from Chanel (sent to one of its staff, who - as we learnt in post-purchase correspondence - has since left and had the foresight to stick it on Ebay!), and a Christmas tree-shaped perfume card, also from Chanel.

Following a brisk bidding war, the Christmas card - with its pretty dangly gold charms of snowflakes, perfume bottles and the intertwined "C"s of the Chanel logo - ended up costing Mr Bonkers as much as a bottle of Coco Mademoiselle. However, it is a much more desirable object in my eyes, not least because I am of course already sorted on the Coco Mademoiselle front with a couple of bottles of Lidl Suddenly Madame Glamour. : - )

So yes, the card will come out every year and take pride of place on the mantlepiece, and I shall continue to puzzle over who the signatory may be...If anyone can make out that name and knows who they are, I would be most curious to know!

Then the second card - shaped like a Christmas tree, and fashioned out of a collage of bottles of No 5, No 19, Coco and Allure - is very small by comparison at 4.25 inches tall. This is because it is in fact a rather elaborate fragrance blotter. I am so used to the ubiquitous long white blank ones, that I forget that there are also these more colourful preprinted ones in assorted shapes and sizes.

A quick scurry through the Interwebs has revealed that perfume cards date from the late 1800s and were originally impregnated with the fragrance, though this one is not very old. Well, not older than Allure at least, which places it in the mid-90s onwards.

Funnily enough, I recently came across the Versace Yellow Diamond blotter pictured below, and kept it because it struck me as rather impressive - more so than the fragrance, certainly - but by and large I don't tend to encounter anything more patterned than the normal white strips, with at most the name of the perfume house or the store printed on them.

Now it turns out that the seller of the perfume card is a journalist and published author called Kathy Flood, who has another book coming out shortly on the subject of faces in jewellery*. Kathy lives in the mid-West, but has also spent time in Europe, where she studied French like me. Her Ebay store is also mostly devoted to vintage jewellery. So she sounds an all-round interesting character, and we have got into a bit of an email exchange since the tree card arrived, which is a nice spin off of the gift itself. Kathy reckons it is quite rare, and I have certainly not managed to google anything similar on collectors' sites.

For yes, there seems to be a thriving special interest based around collecting these speciality blotters, as well as perfume-themed postcards and other promotional bits and bobs.

And in terms of actual samples of perfume, as opposed to unfragranced blotters or other printed matter, I have now learnt that "liquitouch" is the correct term for those credit card-sized plasticky samples, which include a small amount of perfume encased by a thin film. Then of course there are the peel-back fragrance strips you get in magazine ads, while somehow I have also managed to acquire a "blister pack" of DKNY Delicious Night (which looks for all the world like one of those plastic bubbles disposable contact lens come in). So when you think about it, there is a whole host of promotional perfume delivery systems of which I am only vaguely aware, being so focused on getting my mitts on a proper sample vial!

Hmm...I do hope I haven't suddenly uncovered another rabbit hole down which to fall, having so far largely managed to tune out to the twin allure of vintage and extrait versions of scents. I note that one of the books Kathy has written is about the whole business of collecting. Called Things, it features a chapter on fragrance! As for our perfume cards, there is even a name for people who collect such things - or there is in French at least - and I daresay the English is the same word:

OLFCARTOPHILE

I tried googling it, mind, and all I got was "olfactophilia", a type of fetish into which I shall leave you to make your own inquiries... : - )

UPDATE: Following a suggestion from Cymbaline in the oomments below, I contacted noted wordsmith Pyramus via his blog, Cephalogenic, about the origins of the word "olfcartophile", and on Monday (16.1) he kindly devoted a whole post entitled "Card Games" to his reply!

So, I have to ask - and I know I am rather backward in coming forward when it comes to asking readers questions...

Are you already - or do you reckon you have you the potential to become - an olfcartophile?

What promotional perfume delivery systems have you encountered, and what are their relative merits?

Do you come across many of these fancier perfume blotters, and if so, did any of them smell?

Could a more striking style of perfume blotter ever boost sales of a given scent, or is it just a bit of harmless point of sale fun?

PS The other three cards pictured were extras that came with my Chanel tree!

**The Jewelry Face Book of Pins & Pendants: Vintage Visages

Bleary-Nosed Sniffing At Birmingham Airport: "Eyeing" Candy, Molton Brown Perfumes, And Floris Mahon Leather & Sirena

2012-01-12T17:55:00.056Z

I went out to Germany and back yesterday for one meeting. I don't recommend it - I was up and abroad (quite literally!) before I was properly awake. And that is such a quick turnaround that you are never quite “in” the foreign country in question. There is a slightly unreal quality to the day’s events, which started for me when the alarm went off at 5.20am - a time which is just as much a foreign country to me as where I was headed...

And it seems hard to credit that I was wandering around the duty free perfume hall of Birmingham airport at 7.30am! That’s a full hour before I normally think of opening my eyes – and sometimes even when I do, I promptly think better of it again.

All of which is just to explain that I was in a bit of a daze yesterday as I cruised the fragrance fixtures on auto-pilot. Yes, I can say with authority that I have no interest in testing perfume, or giving it much thought at all, before the "nine o’clock watershed" – a.m., I mean. Yet even in my dopey state I couldn’t fail to spot a very good deal on a set of Prada Candy perfume and body lotion, and on cue I did that picking up and fondling routine again before putting the box back on the shelf. It wasn’t so much the price as the weight I baulked at, given that I was going to be on foot all day. Also, this week I have already treated myself to a hot pink and black satin Candy iPhone holder(!).

This irresistible and impractical accessory was a GWP on a large bottle of Candy that was going for a whopping 89 euros at Schiphol airport last weekend. I wrestled that lemming to the ground and beat the life out of it with my boarding pass, but the hankering - for the free gift at least - remained, and I didn’t hesitate when I saw it for sale separately on Ebay the other day for just £14 delivered. So that is my fix of Candy for this week. Now it won’t protect my iPhone against any impact stronger than a stray hair or bit of lint, but I will of course put it in a case first before putting it in this pretty pink padded apology for one – what my late father would have dismissed as a “frivolous fabric frippery”. (And before you ask, my penchant for alliteration is genetic.)

UPDATE - the iPhone doesn't fit! I shall have to use this frivolous fabric frippery flop as a soft glasses case instead. My specs are black, so they match at least...

Going back to my meanderings in the fragrance aisles, as on my last visit I skirted round the Chanel Les Exclusifs counter, keen to dodge another close encounter with Jersey. Then, directly opposite the Chanel section on a prime “end of gondola” position, a new range of perfumes from bath & body brand Molton Brown suddenly caught my eye. Five squat, rectangular, stippled glass bottles, not unlike a dumpier version of Boss Orange For Men.

Behind the bottles was a line of trumpet-shaped flowers made of wood, with a wooden pole-cum-stamen poking out from inside each one. As my visit to IUNX Parfums was still fresh in my mind, I immediately picked up the first wooden flower and stuck my nose in it. It didn’t smell of anything. Feeling a little foolish, I went and grabbed a load of fragrance strips from the Escada counter and set about testing the Molton Browns from the testers instead. First impressions - based purely on the presentation, and also factoring in the self-consciously quirky names – were that this was going to be a me-too exercise in Tom Ford PC / Armani Privé territory, just as the latest D & G numbered collection always struck me as a very poor rip off of Chanel Les Exclusifs. In its own product segment of bath and bodycare products Molton Brown is pretty high end. However, as I stood in front of the fixture armed with a fistful of fresh blotters, I couldn't get my head around the notion of Molton Brown as a credible perfume brand, any more than I would a scent from Bayliss & Harding, though I would be happy to receive a gift of liquid hand wash by either brand.

So I embarked on my sniffing session in a somewhat cynical frame of mind, compounding my general lethargy and desperate wish to be back in bed. Of the five scents in the Molton Brown range, I quite liked one, disliked one a lot, and could take or leave the other three. That said, I could see them appealing to some people, even in perfumista circles. So please do take these mini-reviews of the range with a big handful of salt, as the sampling circumstances were massively stacked against it!

SINGOSARI

Soft, peppery spice – a homoepathic version of Marc Jacobs Bang – busy, without enough going on, if that is not a contradiction in terms.

IUNU

Woody scent with an offbeat vegetal note – a bit like PG Papyrus de Ciane, but not as bleak.

ROGART

Woody, fruity, leathery number. (My second “favourite”.)

APULDRE

Incense? and flagstones overgrown with miscellaneous herbaceous matter from the contents of a counter top compost bin. This one reminded me a bit of the cool dead stoniness of Pierre de Lune by Armani Privé, with added vegetation and more fight in it.

LIJIANG

A light, vaguely fruity floral. It had stylistic echoes of Xerjoff Lua ie pretty, but not original enough to be in keeping with the other scents in the range.

UPDATE - I wrote up my impressions of the Molton Brown scents over a beer and another exceptionally creamy bowl of soup(!) at Frankfurt airport. I didn't get a chance to google them till I got home, whereupon I discovered that the collection is in fact called Navigations Through Scent, and has a whole story behind it comparable in its complexity and detail to the Scents of Time range.

Yes, turns out each scent has its own geographical associations and "mood board" of sorts: here is the one for Apuldre, which represents LONDON VIA KENT, and was the one I actively disliked:

May Contain Mischief

"Twilight on a summer's day in the garden of England. Picnic blankets on fresh cut grass. Fizz and gin. Irreverent. Cheeky and a bit mad."

Notes: juniper berries, wormwood, cedar wood, violet leaf absolute, modern leather accord, styrax absolute.

I'll give 'em a bit mad! Look at those notes - with wormwood, styrax and leather it was never going to be my glass of G & T. And Juniper Sling it ain't neither, but it gets brownie points for weirdness. In fact it is not unlike that scent I once likened to "sticks of celery peeping coyly through a freshly creosoted fence" - Unicorn Spell by Les Nez, that's the one.

I have also since come across proper reviews of two more from the line (Lijiang and Iunu) on Candyperfumeboy here.

Now I don't know if my reaction to these scents would have been more positive had I known IN ADVANCE about the idea behind the collection and the theme for each of the five scents. The Molton Brown website sums the range up as follows:

A brief history of perfume,
told through five distinct fragrances.
From lost worlds,
along ancient silk and spice routes
to a brave New World.

Hmm, quite possibly, as the colourful imagery in the press material and the exotic associations with the four other countries - China (Lijiang), Egypt (Iunu), Canada (Rogart) and Indonesia (Singosari) - do rather get you in the mood for an olfactory adventure. And to their credit most of them smell original. But they still weren't for me - not at that time of the morning, and probably not ever.

Additionally, I sniffed two new Florises.

FLORIS MAHON LEATHER

Too "Rawhide" and chaps. I know I wasn't at my best, and it is a masculine, but the opening seemed a bit rough.

FLORIS SIRENA

Watery floral with top notes of peony and rose, and a heart of yawn-yawn. Sirena it may be, but it most certainly isn't calling my name.

On the way home, I spent four hours hanging around Frankfurt airport. It wasn't so hard to do, as they make the travelling perfumista feel right at home!

Photo of Rogart bottle and poster from Molton Brown, photo of Floris perfumes from Fragrantica, other photos my own

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: More Tales Of The Unexpected...

2012-01-08T18:38:00.068Z

My recent spate of work trips leading up to Christmas has spawned a phenomenal number of travel posts. I realise it is a good while since I wrote a straight up review of a perfume, or anything approaching what passes for a "normal post" on Bonkers. The travel posts have all been scent-related at least, while this one is not, so click away if you are after my 2012 resolutions, "Top Sniffs And Nasty Niffs" of 2011 list, or something else appropriate to the time of year.

I will get to some more seasonal topics soon, but next up - as is becoming something of a tradition - here is the latest motley collection of oddities and mishaps from the six-country tour.

Santas behaving strangely

There is something deeply incongruous - and in this particular case, faintly sinister - about a Santa in blue shades.

And you don't come across a pedestrian zone littered with a clatter of Santas in apparent death throes every day either, not even in December.

A disco in a shower

I know this sounds unlikely, but on the first bleary-eyed morning of Trip 1, I was astonished to find that when I turned on the shower, as it dutifully gushed forth, the showerhead lit up alternately blue and green. For all I know, there may be top of the range models that also play Bee Gees numbers, but I was startled enough as it was by the disco light display.

Subsequent Internet research has come up with the proper name for this funky new bathroom fixture: a "Lichtdusche" or "light shower".

For Wuppertal, just read "weird"

Along similar lines to the disco in a shower idea, an art gallery in a lift was just one of the quirky features of a hotel I stayed in in Wuppertal, which was housed in a converted factory. For example, just inside the main entrance was a mannequin in a (very skinny) bird cage wearing goggles.

Then next to reception was a Darth Vader coat stand, while my room had every amenity, including a leopard camouflaged as a chair.

A didactic rev counter

Cruise control was one of the earliest inventions along the development path towards cars that drive themselves. This has since been joined by other useful driver aids such as parking sensors, warning beeps when you leave your lights on or your seat belt off, and a system that registers if you are driving erratically and vibrates to wake you up. For it assumes you have nodded off and aren't just drunk or merely uncoordinated. The full name for this clever invention is the snappy "Nap Alarm Driver Fatigue Vibration Device".

To the growing list of driver assistance gizmos I must now add the "didactic rev counter", for every time I was a bit slow off the mark changing up - though interestingly, not DOWN - a gear, an upwards pointing arrow would suddenly appear. It now turns out that I was driving a Ford Fiesta Econetic model, and that the little arrow on my "nanny dashboard" was in fact helping me optimise fuel consumption, not just avoid knackering the clutch as I at first assumed.

Drinks that are not what they seem...

I love pumpkin soup - it is a seasonal favourite when travelling in German-speaking countries between Hallowe'en and Christmas, and I would happily order it several nights on the trot. I can confidently say that I would never have got tired of it, but the chef in one restaurant in Rudesheim - aiming off for the possibility that I might be sick of pumpkin soup by now - decided to serve it in a most unexpected receptacle.

"Pumpkin capuccino" it said on the menu, aka "cup-a-soup" - but not as we know it.

And here is a cruet, masquerading as two half-bottles of red wine - ideally sized for the lone diner who needs a drink after the shock of the soup surprise.

Stealth creaming

The novel soup presentation above leads me neatly on to the topic of stealth creaming, which I shared on Facebook at the time. For over the course of December, there appeared to be a campaign by German chefs to get calories down me by the shortest route possible. I put on 3lb last month, so I'd say it worked.

The stealth creaming took the form not only of generous gobs of cream floating on top of soups (though goodness knows there were a lot of those), but also starters of bread and goose fat, salads sozzled in mayo, jacket spuds lost under a giant mound of sour cream as big as my fist - or the potato itself. Most bizarre of all was the molten butter simmering on a little table-top stove, ready for you to drizzle over your fish that was already awash with the molten butter they had slathered on it in the first place, topped off by mayonnaise overspray from the salad.

"Ginger cream soup" (with extra cream)

Contaminated cold cuts

Well, I use the term "contaminated" advisedly, but it seems as though you have to stay in a three star hotel or higher to be sure that the cold meats and cheeses will be segregated in the breakfast buffet. The same level of hotel, in fact, as the one where you know instinctively that the bottle of mineral water on the table in your room costs 4 euros, instead of the 40 cents it would set you back if you could only be arsed to toddle down to Lidl. So it is swings and roundabouts, I suppose... Now I am not a vegetarian, but any serious vegetarian of my acquaintance would rather go hungry than eat cheese that has been cosying up to mountain ham or mortadella under the same perspex dome.

Stealth salting - and heating

Related to the hotel ploy mentioned above of leaving a bottle of overpriced mineral water in your room, is the tendency of hotel chefs to oversalt dishes, so that you are sure to develop a raging thirst in the night and - your reserves of bargain Lidl water by now exhausted - be forced to crack open the 4 euro bottle in desperation at 3am. Also playing into this whole scenario are radiators with no - or malfunctioning - manual controls. These will typically blaze away all night, exacerbating your thirst and further boosting sales of in-room water. That said, the hotel's profits on the drinks front may be seriously eroded by the extra utility bills, but the management may choose to ignore this in their eagerness to peddle incidentals.

Xenophobic wifi

Now that title may also look strange, but bear with me. For you see, although I have enjoyed free Internet access in branches of McDonald's in Switzerland, Slovenia and Hungary, when I was in Germany recently I was unable to access the network because I couldn't register on the portal using a German-based mobile phone. Given the international popularity of the chain and the amount of passing trade they must do from overseas visitors like myself, I am surprised that they should discriminate between foreign and domestic customers in this way. So, Ronald McDonald, you need to know that it is never going to be a Happy Meal if I can't get my emails...

By the same token, I tried to buy a metro ticket from a machine in Amsterdam last night. Not only did it not accept coins or notes, but the only plastic it would take was a Maestro card, whatever that is when it is at home - which it clearly is in Holland.

Impotent tea bags

On these trips I was struck by how often the tea bag I was offered in cafes and at hotel breakfast tables turned out to be Darjeeling. Out of the tea bag trinity of Darjeeling, Ceylon and Assam, Darjeeling is possibly the weakest. On a forum of English expats living in Switzerland, one member wrote: "Whenever I seem to make a cup it's as pale as a heroin junkie and as weak too...". The classic blend of English Breakfast is a mix of Ceylon and Assam and Kenyan teas, I believe, and is better suited to the British palate. As another forum member replied in the same thread: "If you like mashed, stewed and spoon dissolving tea, then you can get English Breakfast and others over here too." Well great, but where? Now there's an idea for a phone app..."Strong Brew Finder", maybe?

I tried letting the feeble Darjeeling tea bag infuse for longer. I tried squeezing the life out of it with my spoon. It was still weak, but nastily metallic. Now I know what you are thinking: "When in Rome..." and all that jazz, but tea is one of the fundamental components to my day. So if no one comes up with that app I may just have to ramp up my emergency tea bag stocks...

Encoded chips

On one of my flights, the stewardess brought round complimentary soft drinks and a choice of snack. "Sweet or savoury?" she inquired of everyone, as she passed down the aisle. What kind of silly question is that? That is a clear case of NEI (aka "Not Enough Information"). Why, "sweet" could cover the whole spectrum of offerings from a boiled sweet to a three tier Black Forest Gateau, while savoury could encompass a full roast dinner all the way down to a tiny bag of pretzels. So of course I had to ask what exactly the options were within those broad food groups, to which the answer came: "cookies or chips", arguably shorter words to say in the first place. Ah well, I suppose I might have guessed that really. They'd have struggled to fit a chicken into one of the steel drawers on their trolley, and short of strapping it to the back of one of the engines in the line of thrust, I am not quite sure how they would have contrived to cook it.

And of course no round up of travel silliness would be complete without a picture of something strange on a pole...yes, it's another Chupa Chups water tower!

And here is also a cute one of a cat. He's got the hang of the Buddha squat, but isn't quite in the zone mentally, I sense. The ears are a dead giveaway...

Photo of shower from lifestyle-bunny.de, photo of rev counter from parkers.co.uk, photo of ham and cheese from tripadvisor.com, photo of squirrel from ullocal.wlky.com, photo of wifi from McDonald's website, photo of tea from darjeelingcuppa.com, photo of chips from everydayshouldbesaturday.com, other photos my own.

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: No 3 (Austria & The Czech Republic) - Meeting The Olfactorias And "A Puffa Of Perfumistas"

2012-01-05T20:00:00.044Z

Back in the summer, I was lucky enough to be working in Austria and met Olfactoria (aka Birgit) for the first time, in her home town of Vienna. We spent a very enjoyable afternoon in several high end perfumeries, sniffing the latest releases and generally chewing the cud about matters scent-related. Fast forward four months and I found myself back in the area, this time not far from the country bolthole where Olfactoria and her family spend most weekends.

And so it was that we arranged to meet again on the Saturday before Christmas in Sankt Pölten, which turned out to be Mr O's home town, and was fairly close to their cottage. The contrast between the weather this time and in August could not have been more stark: 35C plays -2C. In the summer I had been concerned about my sticky, creased skirt and glistening forehead, whereas the main priority on this occasion was to retain a full complement of fingers by the end of the morning.

I had had the foresight to bring along my good coat - which is lightweight, but as warm as one of those high tech sleeping bags favoured by bivouacing climbers. The Olfactorias were all similarly swaddled in down coats: Birgit's was a very stylish fitted design in matt black (photo is approximate), cinched in at the waist by an integral belt, while the children had anoraks with fur trimmed hoods. There should be a collective noun really for a gathering of quilted outerwear on this scale - a "wadding" perhaps? A "padding"? Or a "puffa"?

So having rendez-vous'ed at the train station, our puffa party set off in search of a cafe for elevenses. Olfactoria's younger son, Niki, who has just turned two I believe!, had a push chair at his disposal but preferred to toddle on ahead, pausing every few yards to hurl himself on the ground, much like a rock star stage-diving or a stuntman perfecting his "freshly-shot-in-the-chest" manoeuvre. Even though we attracted a few concerned glances from members of the public, Olfactoria and her husband remained calm and unfazed, for they knew that Niki would get up from his prone position moments later, only to start his toddle and deck-hitting routine all over again a few yards further on.

We had some difficulty finding a tea room with enough space to accommodate our party, but following a tip off from a passing relative of Mr O, finally secured a large table in a basement cafe in Sankt Pölten's main shopping plaza. Once we were all sitting down, I presented the boys with some chocolate money and a couple of soft toys (a German-speaking chicken and a teddy in a skiing outfit from Utah). I explained that both toys were unhappy in England, and had heard that there were two nice little boys in Austria who might consider giving them a home. I am not sure that Pauli, the elder son, bought this anthropomorphic emigration line I was spinning for one minute, but he graciously accepted the bear, while Niki took custody of the chicken - or he may do in a year or so when he has outgrown the potential hazards of the bird's beady eyes. : - )

Once all our drinks had arrived, Olfactoria and I discreetly exchanged perfume swap parcels, the focal point of which was a small decant of the discontinued Guerlain Plus Que Jamais (for B) in return for a large one(!) of Après l'Ondée for me. Additionally, I received a "starter kit" of Mono di Orio scents, while I introduced Birgit to Roja Dove Scandal and Damien Bash Lucifer #3, as well as rehoming a dirty amber. I also sniffed Olfactoria wearing her new love of Angélique Noir, which Lady Jane Grey had given her when they met up earlier that week. Now, I tried Angélique Noir in 2008 or so and remember it as being a hot, treacly mess on me, while it was spectacular on Birgit. At this point, Mr O leaned in and announced portentously: "Ah, but of course Birgit has 'magic skin'".

Now if Birgit has magic skin, young Niki would appear to have a magic gullet, for in addition to pavement-diving, he showed us his special party trick of finishing not just his own drink (like the well behaved little boy that he is), but also everyone else's. With such a prodigious capacity for fluid consumption, I could see him downing a yard of ale in one well before he is of school age.

After our pitstop in the shopping plaza, Mr O kindly took the children off to look round the Christmas market, giving Olfactoria and me an hour to ourselves. We spent it notionally sniffing in the Sankt Pölten branch of the beauty salon and perfumery chain, Nägele & Strubell. To be truthful, the store's name is the best thing about it, for the selection of niche brands there was quite limited; though I am sure they were more, I can only actually recall Annick Goutal and Ligne St Barth. Birgit introduced me to the Annick Goutal room spray range, notably the seasonal scent Noël, and I enjoyed walking into a generous ambient spritz of that.

Notes: lemon, bitter orange, mandarin and Siberian pine

You know, it truly didn't matter that Olfactoria and I spent as long as we did standing in front of the fixture without spotting anything worthy of our attention. Speaking for myself, we could have stood at a shelf of hosiery, hardware or baby food, and I feel sure the conversation would still have flowed. Perfume was never far from our minds, and yet it seemed less of a lynchpin in our budding acquaintance than at our first meeting.

Soon it was time to rejoin the rest of the family, and head over to a Japanese restaurant for a buffet lunch, to which the Olfactorias kindly insisted on treating me. For one so young, I was impressed at Pauli's adventurous taste in food: he cheerfully despatched dim sum and sushi with equal gusto. Niki slept through lunch in his buggy, flaked out after his earlier exertions, and thereby missing the opportunity to minesweep the last few mouthfuls of his mother's Diet Coke and my own "Apfelsaft, gespritzt", as I learnt to call the Austrian version of sparkling apple juice.

Lunch over, it was the parting of the ways, as the Olfactorias went off in search of a live Christmas tree to serve as a festive backdrop to their al fresco barbecue that night. "Very fresco", I hear you say. They'll be needing their padded coats, that's for sure...!

I wandered meanwhile round the shops a bit more, before ambling back to my hotel. Well, I say "ambling" - it was more of a limp actually, for five minutes after the Olfactorias had gone, I was suddenly aware of a pricking sensation in one of my feet, and discovered a nail protruding inside the lining of one shoe - it was the first time I had worn them since having them resoled. There was a splodge of blood in the shoe and another one staining my sock.

So there you have it - the ultimate sign of a good time with a fellow perfumista is immunity from pain....in one foot at least. Had I been bleeding from both feet I might just have noticed, however much fun we were having... : - )

Photos of Sankt Pölten from pbase.com (Tibor Pospisil), photo of coat from moncler-jackets-uk-sale.co.uk, pefume shop logo from the company's website, other photos my own

New Year Update

2012-01-02T10:54:00.006Z

This is just a quick line to say that the posts I had lined up for the early New Year may appear a little later than planned. Yesterday I received the sad news that the friend in Holland with whom I spent last New Year has passed away, and I am flying out for the funeral at the weekend. A relative is also seriously ill in hospital at the moment, and I have additionally come down with the communal cold that is doing the rounds here. In view of my looming work deadline, I am hoping I will be able to knock it into submission with industrial quantities of Vitamin C and positive thinking.

So although 2012 has not got off to a great start in this corner, I would like to take this opportunity to thank all my readers for their interest in - and comments on - Bonkers about Perfume in 2011, and to wish you all a Happy New Year!

Next up will be an account of my meeting with The Olfactorias in Austria, but meanwhile, here is a link to my New Year's post from last year, and happier times...

Photo of Spakenburg harbour from Wikipedia

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: No 2 (Belgium & France) - A "Drowned And Out In Paris" Sniffathon: IUNX Parfums Revisited

2011-12-30T18:12:00.048Z

I have been back at work for three days, and am keenly aware that this is the season of "Best Fragrances Of 2011" retrospectives, while I am still have a backlog of (mostly scent-related) posts to write up from my recent work trips. I have enjoyed reading about other bloggers' top perfumes from this year, and have spotted a number of personal favourites amongst them. My own "Top Sniffs And Nasty Niffs" round up will be along shortly, however a chronological imperative(!) compels me to finish my travel posts first, starting with the final instalment of the Paris sniffathon, when I popped into the IUNX shop at the very end of the afternoon.

This was my second visit to the IUNX boutique, which is located next door to Hotel Costes at 239, rue Saint Honoré. I first discovered IUNX back in June 2009, around the time of my 50th birthday, when I enjoyed three gloriously warm days of solo sniffing in Paris. While JAR Parfums has just TWO points of sale in the world, IUNX is even more exclusive, for its dimly lit, dark red boudoir of a store is the ONLY place where you can buy their fragrance line.

The original visit - or visits rather, as I went back to make a purchase later that day! - predates Bonkers, but even then I kept records of sampling forays, and found these snippets about the IUNX experience:

"Had a great chat with the man at IUNX, who was from Donegal but insisted on speaking in French both times. This may have helped him forget I was from Belfast."

"I bought Eau Frappée, which smells like lemon sorbet and yellow rose petals. Opening is exquisite but fairly evanescent. Mutes down to a gentle musky rose. Bottle is 150ml @ 103 euros, and looks like Luke Skywalker's lightsaber. Comes in a black neoprene tubular case like a policeman's truncheon, topped off with a neoprene bow tie!"

I still have about 20ml? left of my humungous tube, which proved highly swappable on MUA on account of its rarity, and on that Tuesday I had no intentions of making another purchase, not least on size grounds. There simply isn't the room in either of my perfume fridges for one thing! But I did fancy catching up with the latest releases, and on spotting the same sales chap through the store window, put my head round the door and said hello - in English this time - as our French-speaking routine, however it arose last time, was too silly for words! : - )

"Hey," I added by way of an ice-breaker: "Aren't you the fella from Donegal?"

"Mayo!" he replied with mock-indignation, and we were off. Ron - as I now found out he was called - remembered my purchase from 2009 and invited me to resniff the other fragrances in their strange Plexiglas trumpets, which wafted the scents by means of a motorised fan. I was especially interested to try Eau Baptiste, which was a new addition to the range since last time. Meanwhile, Ron went back to sorting out a pile of thin white tubes that were mostly on the floor, with a few stuck vertically in the window display. I glanced across and inquired:

"What's with the straws, then? It looks like a game of Pick Up Sticks!"

"You are the second person to call those straws!! Those are NOT straws, they are....he mentioned a word I have forgotten, but which began with a "d", I think. Anyway, it turned out that these little straw-like tubes are a light reflecting window dressing accessory. I found an unrelated picture in Google images that nicely illustrates the general idea.

Going back to Eau Baptiste, it was a very "photo-realistic" perfume, to mix sensory terms for a moment. It had notes of wheat, orange blossom and acacia honey, all of which were clearly delineated, and it also smelt green and sappy, like the stem of a rose. It was beautiful and distinctive, but not necessarily what I would want to smell of.

While he carried on creating his straw installation, I asked Ron about his own early scent CV, and quick as a flash he listed his past love perfumes in date order: Azzaro, Eau Sauvage, Polo, Safari and Shiseido Basala.

I had not heard of Basala, and have just fetched it up on Google. Interestingly, while the note list has way more going on with it than your average IUNX scent, the bottle is red like the interior of the store....

Here is my quick take on the other scents in the line, created by Olivia Giacobetti, Queen of The Barely There style of scent to which I am generally so drawn myself.

SPLASH FORTE

Notes: red cedar, bay rum, peppered mint (sic), and Jamaican pimento/pepper

This was moderately spicy, but sadly I didn't care for the combination of notes at all. It was in the same vein as JM Pomegranate Noir, ie reminiscent of a Christmas candle or spicy potpourri. Also, I don't like alcohol in perfumes as a rule - as a note, I mean! - and don't even care for rum as a drink, except in Mojitos. A perfume that smelt like a Mojito I would in fact cross the street to try!

EAU BLANCHE

Notes: white linen, iris butter and teak wood

This smelt much as you might imagine from the notes - it was okay, but didn't have the wow factor for me.

L'ETHER

Notes: myrrh, white incense, sandalwood and rose essence

I didn't dislike this one, but it was rather too indistinct - the myrrh may have blurred it over in some way.

EAU SENTO

Notes: driftwood, cedar leaves, cypress and red algae

Now, as a huge fan of Parfumerie Générale's Bois Naufragé (a partial bottle of which came my way this Christmas, courtesy of the very generous Lovethescents!), I would have thought I would have liked this one, but it had a dank, discordant aspect to it. Oh well.

So I will just enjoy the rest of my Eau Frappée lightsaber, I think, though Eau Baptiste was most striking in a "lovely-but-not-really-a-perfume" kind of a way. The highlight of the visit this time was shooting the breeze with Ron about our respective childhoods growing up in Ireland. A beach ball bought in Salthill, a rag doll in Bundoran (on my side), versus Ron's memories of crashing the parental car. : - )

I also inquired about Ines' and Asali's recent visit. "Two fellow bloggers came by the other day - do you remember them? One had a red coat. And red hair. They may both have had red hair. No, don't quote me on that."

I have checked back and Asali is in fact a brunette, which is a good thing in hindsight, as the IUNX store needs all the colour contrast it can get. : - )

For some reason, I still didn't bother trying the Costes perfumes that are sold alongside the IUNX brand. It was the end of the day, and I had got it into my head that they wouldn't be my cup of tea, which may be totally unjustified. On the plus side, it gives me a reason to revisit IUNX next time I am passing. I will remember Ron is from Mayo next time...

Photo of Hotel Costes from tripadvisor.co.uk, photo of bottle from hotelcostes.com, photo of fibreglass trumpets from cafleurebon.com, photo of light straws from designut.org, photo of Shiseido Basala from fragrantica.com

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: No 2 (Belgium & France) - A "Drowned And Out In Paris" Sniffathon: JAR Parfums

2011-12-27T14:34:00.052Z

I hope everyone had a good Christmas - the festivities passed off without incident here - well, apart from Mrs Bonkers Senior's and my failed attempts to saw off the turkey's legs with a paring knife mid-way through the roasting time. I am pleased to report that the bird did cook in the end, despite its semi-severed and floppily obstructive limbs, and Charlie Bonkers enjoyed the twin seasonal treats of cold turkey on demand and a warm slate floor in the conservatory. Unfortunately, the husband of one of the dinner guests was ill with the most virulent form of man flu on Christmas Day, so this morning - in my capacity as a one-woman "Soupe Sans Frontières" - I drove over to their house with a tupperware of leftover turkey and sinus-clearing spicy soup.

Now I feel as though the holiday is barely underway, but reluctantly I have to go back to work tomorrow. So I thought I would write up the penultimate instalment of the sodden Parisian sniffing report while the going is good...

JAR PARFUMS

After my chance discovery of the Fragonard Museum, I decided to seek out the Paris branch of JAR Parfums, the super-exclusive line founded by jeweller Joel Arthur Rosenthal in 1986. I was aware that Olfactoria had sniffed the range on her recent trip to New York, and as there are only two bricks and mortar sales outlets in the world, felt that I shouldn't miss the chance to try these perfumes myself, especially as JAR is widely considered to have created the "reference gardenia" scent.

I had jotted down the name of the street (though crucially not the number) from Denyse's walking guide to Paris, and clocked that it was just off the Place Vendôme. I headed for Rue Castiglione, and walked the entire length of it without spotting the store. So I popped into a shop called Valmont at No 8, which sold a Swiss brand of anti-aging cosmetics and the Il Profumo line of perfumes. I asked them if they knew where JAR was, and though the store was only a few doors down at No 14, they directed me to the Maison Kurkdjian boutique a couple of streets away, who promptly sent me back to the street I had just come from.

The reason I missed the JAR store is quite simply because it doesn't look like a shop. On close inspection you can just make out a single perfume bottle on display in the window, but it is small and easy to overlook. And then the plush, softly lit interior looks like a cross between a small salon at Versailles and the Sistine Chapel (the ceiling was covered in a large fresco of the sky shot through by a bolt of lightning). There was no till, no counter, no desk to speak of or shelf fixtures. The main items of furniture were a table in the centre of the room and a few ornate Louis XIV-style chairs (or one of the Louis's, certainly). On the table were a half dozen or so glass cloches arranged in a circle, and under each cloche was a scrunched up chamois leather impregnated with one of the JAR scents.

As I entered the store - or "perfume induction room" as it should perhaps more properly be known - a tall man got up from his chair at the back of the room and greeted me. I decided to come clean right away and explained that I was a blogger and that I was curious to try the line and take advantage of the fact that I happened to be passing one of JAR Parfums' only two branches anywhere!

"The gentleman" (I will call him that as I couldn't possibly refer to him as a sales assistant - his demeanour was more akin to that of a museum curator) invited me to sit down and take part in this highly ritualistic perfume sampling experience... He lifted each cloche in turn and I would trustingly stick my nose right inside it. In one or two instances he deliberately held the cloche further away from my nose, warning me that it might be too overpowering at close quarters. JAR famously doesn't publish the notes for its scents, and the gentleman remained pokerfaced as I wittered on regardless, telling him what I thought I was smelling. Most unexpectedly, he complimented me on my French. I thanked him, wanting to add that my French was really rather rusty at the moment, but didn't, because I could only think of the German word for "rusty" ("eingerostet"). : - )

NB I had deliberately not re-read Olfactoria's impressions of the range, so I really did enter into the experience with no preconceptions, other than an expectation that one scent would smell mindblowingly like gardenia... : - )

My off the cuff comments on the day are as follows:

FERME TES YEUX

"Dark", "sinister". It conjured up dank, disused cupboards and mould.

Verdict - Not A Perfume

JARLING

"Luxury soap."

BOLT OF LIGHTNING (as per the painting on the ceiling!)

"Carnal Flower, end of."

SHADOW

"Refined spices."

JARDENIA

"Blue cheese!!!" "Bleu des Causses!" "Bleu d'Auvergne!" "All the Bleu d'-type cheeses!"

At the moment of smelling this one, I had no idea that it was in fact the famous gardenia replica, while all I got was blue cheese. The gentleman was fascinated by this, because in his experience only the French get a cheese note here, while other nationalities of visitor do "read" this as a floral. Well, I studied French at uni, lived on The Riviera for a year as a student and used to work in a cheese shop, so maybe that predisposes my nose to have a Gallic take on Jardenia. : - )

Verdict - Not A Perfume

GOLCONDA (the original JAR perfume)

"The dentist!" "Evil clove!"

Verdict - Not A Perfume

DIAMOND WATER

"Falling into a bed of roses and being scratched by thorns." "FM Noir Epices".

And now that I have committed my thoughts to paper, I can afford to google a few reviews by others to see if they chime with my own reactions, and it seems I am in good company...first up is Luca Turin writing in the NZZ Folio:

"Gossip led me to expect something weird, and weird is what I got. JAR fragrances are uniquely shocking..."

And here's Robin of NST on Ferme Tes Yeux, the first perfume I tried, albeit I never got beyond the opening in this "ambient cloche environment":

"The top notes are downright unpleasant; it does improve as it dries down, but I found wearing it a somewhat disturbing experience."

And now finally I have been back to Olfactoria's New York report to see what she made of the line. Overall, she is much more positive, but then as we established at our recent meeting in Austria, she has "magic skin". Which presumably also applies to the skin on the tip and interior of her nose, given that she was also just sticking it inside the cloche and not testing on the usual sites of wrist and hand.

"My favorite was called Diamond Water, I also liked Shadow and Jarling. Golconda (Joey’s favorite) and Ferme tes Yeux were very interesting and I’m sure, given the chance to get them to know better, I’d love them too. I didn’t particularly care for Jardenia and the nameless, symbol only, one..." (Bolt of Lightning)

In looking for images to illustrate this post, I stumbled upon a fan page of JAR Parfums on Facebook, which quoted Rosenthal speaking of his distribution strategy:

"Part of the pleasure of perfume is where it comes from - literally the shop it comes from. If you can buy something anywhere in the world, as is almost always the case today, the pleasure and mystery of the source of the thing is gone."

Well, I agree with that up to a point - a very little point - not up to a two-sales-points-in-the-world point", for sure. But what troubles me more than the rights and wrongs of creating such an aura and mystique around its range in a bid to justify the high price tag**, is the stumbling block of the JAR range being so uncommercial in the first place. There's distinctive and original, and then there's downright weird. For me, at least three of the seven fall into the latter category and I only vaguely cared for two (Jarling and Bolt of Lightning), but I readily admit to not having a particularly discerning nose, plus I didn't try them on skin.

I do like the look of their jewellery though - which if anything is even more ultra-exclusive and -expensive. I spotted some nice pieces in the shape of a butterfly, an iris and lilac blossoms, but also this curious zebra, which on reflection sums up the JAR range for me.

(**I believe it is in the region of 320 euros per ounce for the pure parfum - the gentleman and I didn't broach anything as vulgar as the topic of price tags! Why, I did't even notice any bottles in the room, though there must have been some tucked away somewhere).

Photo of Rue Castiglione from flickr, photos of JAR store from yelp.com, Facebook and francescocatalano.it, photo of JAR bottle from boomerank.com, photo of cheese from keldelice.com, photo of JAR poster from thelondonseason.com, photo of JAR butterfly from culture24.org.co.uk, photo of zebra from tumblr.

Happy Christmas!

2011-12-24T09:06:00.023Z

My mother used to say that Christmas is only one day, though to look at my shopping trolley - or trolleys, as I went on three separate expeditions yesterday to Asda, Asda again and Tesco - you would think I was laying in enough food for the Siege of Leningrad, a nuclear winter...or a very long caravan holiday, certainly. Instead of which it is pretty mild weather here at the moment and the supermarkets are all open again on Boxing Day.

But in my defence I have been away three weeks out of the last four, so the cupboard truly was bare. If a recipe calls for "fresh thyme" I am hardly going to have that in - a small bag of flour that hadn't already expired 12 months ago would be as far as my pantry staples might run to usually. So I was chuffed to note this year that I do - most remarkably - have a jar of fresh nutmeg, still in date. And a Christmas pudding that we didn't get to last year. My friend Clare said that they last for "years", which is good as she is coming to us and may be eating it...

In past years I have got myself into a right tizz worrying about the correct way to cook the turkey, as the advice on the Interwebs is so very contradictory, from the temperature you cook it at to whether or not to brine, erect a foil tent, stuff it, lay it on its tummy, buy a ready-cooked chicken, give up and have a bag of crisps down the pub instead etc.

But after years of angst-ridden experimentation, I think I have got the method more or less down to - not a fine art exactly - but a way that is more likely to work than not, say. Which doesn't meant that I shan't be taking other precautions, like laying in some emergency gravy and an emergency vegetarian alternative in case my nut loaf for the veggie guests is a little "slack".

Well, I guess I ought to sally forth again in search of said gravy (before it is gone!) and some other bits that I couldn't find yesterday, as you do. I always find myself in this headless chicken mode in the run up to Christmas, but I guess it is preferable to being a headless turkey at such a time.

And then I will be posting about the rest of the Paris visit (when I followed in the footsteps of Ines and Asali!), my meeting with Olfactoria and her family in Austria, as well as featuring the usual round up of silly travel-related nonsense, but for now, for anyone who missed it, here is a link to my Christmas post on Cafleurebon last year, a topic of perennial relevance, I sense!

Boxing Day 'BAH HUMBUG'! and A Glut Of Gift Giving Gaffes

Happy Christmas to everyone in Perfumeland and may all your fragrant gifts be lemmings, not turkeys!

Photo of red perfume bottle from 100christmastrees.blogspot.com, photo of green perfume bottle from giveawayshow.com, photo of fallen Christmas tree from Google images

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: No 2 (Belgium & France) - A "Drowned And Out In Paris" Sniffathon: Fragonard Museum

2011-12-22T15:23:00.035Z

The next stop on my semi-random itinerary in Paris was the Musée Fragonard (9, rue Scribe), which I just happened to walk past as I headed towards Place Vendôme. I didn’t know Fragonard had a museum, and if I had, I would have expected it only to be in Grasse. It was in an elegant old townhouse. and as I walked into the empty foyer I was warmly greeted by the lady on the reception desk, who asked if I wanted to take a tour. There was no charge, for as later became apparent, the tour ends in a bit of a sales pitch in the shop downstairs. Several people came in just behind me and the receptionist performed a quick triage between those who wanted an English-speaking guide and those who preferred a French one. In my case, I was happy to take the next tour in either language, as my feet were starting to hurt by this point! Within 5-10 minutes the French guide, a willowy girl who could easily have given up tour guiding and applied to enter France’s Next Top Model, hove into view and escorted our small group of four upstairs, where the museum occupied a handful of rooms.

Cameras were not allowed, but I have found a few snaps on the Internet taken by bolder visitors than me. The first room housed some splendid alembics and other perfume-making paraphernalia. As we were given a quick run-down of the various methods of extracting essential oils such as steam distillation, maceration and enfleurage (for delicate flowers like jasmine and tuberose that can’t stand the heat apparently – much like my friend Geraldine, I thought fondly), I couldn’t help but think of Tarleisio, and her blog, The Alembicated Genie.

The guide went on to relate how Fragonard brings out a new release every year showcasing a particular note. Last year it was mimosa, this year fleurs d’oranger, while violet is up next in 2012. We also learnt that Fragonard doesn’t export its perfumes and its bricks and mortar presence is confined to in-house shops in Paris, Grasse and Eze. This sounded to me like an exclusivity policy akin to that of Puredistance in its early days, but I must say I don’t have Fragonard down as a luxury brand.

In the second room we were shown displays of perfume bottles through the ages, from early, tapering glass ones that women used to tuck coyly into their corsages, to later models in porcelain from Germany and the UK. The guide explained that the bottles Fragonard uses for the parfum version of its scents are made of stainless steel to maximise their shelf life. I was reminded of Montale and Comptoir Sud Pacifique’s similar use of steel, but had always assumed this was for aesthetic reasons unrelated to longevity.

The next exhibit on our tour was a perfumer’s “organ”, containing a couple of hundred different materials in little brown apothecary-style bottles, though apparently a “top of the range” organ might run to 1000 bottles! According to the guide, "noses" only work for a maximum of 20 years while they are in their prime, and as well as ensuring that they eat a balanced diet (no stinking hot curries, I inferred), don’t drink or smoke either so as not to compromise the sensitivity of their precision sniffer. I kept trying to remember the time I met Bertrand Duchaufour at the Penhaligon’s launch of Amaranthine. I could have sworn he had a glass of cava, but maybe not… : - )

In the final room we took a smelling test to see how good we were at recognising different odours. We were each assigned a spot at a long bench, and given a dozen or so bottles containing unnamed scented waxes, which we had to place on the picture corresponding to the note we were smelling. Examples of notes were cinnamon, mint, lavender, strawberry, pineapple, licorice and rose. It was a fun but relatively easy exercise, and all four of us got them all right! I think we would probably have managed to get most of them even without the picture clues, though the fruits were a bit tricky.

The talk over, the guide led us down to the shop, where she gave us a “tour” of the Fragonard parfum strength scents, available to buy individually or in sets of 3 or more for a greatly reduced price. Because we would be paying factory gate prices, even the starting price for a single 5ml mini of a parfum struck me as quite reasonable at 26 euros, and this price also fell sharply if you were willing to buy a humungous canister of 250ml, or whatever the biggest size was. The guide even whipped out a calculator to stress just how significant a percentage saving we would make if we opted for a bulk or multiple bottle purchase. She was veritably the Carol Vorderman of fragrance SAs!

The parfums I tested on card were:

ETOILE – overly sharp citrus bouquet

Notes: "lemon, apple, bergamot, ginger, gardenia, lily of the valley, jasmine, cedar, amber and musk"

EMILIE – overly sharp floral, despite the rather appealing note list below!

Notes: orange blossom, rose, jasmine, violet, lily of the valley, amber and sandalwood

BELLE DE NUIT – Fragonard's best selling feminine, recommended by the guide as the safe choice for buying as a gift for someone, and I would agree - it struck me as a pleasant, but mainstream light floral oriental.

Notes: mirabilis, violet, geranium, rose, plum, woods and musks.

DIAMANT – softly spicy gourmand oriental – initial impression was of something a little discordant, but this grew on me, and I wish I had tested it on skin.

Notes: mandarin, orange, pepper, rose, jasmine, plum, patchouli, vanilla, musk and caramel.

CAPUCINE – surprisingly sweet oriental given the note listing: very potent and powdery going on (with all the muzzy force of EL Knowing, if that makes any sense), but the far drydown was yummy in a Prada Candy kind of way, and I regretted not buying at least 5ml of the parfum.

Notes: green tea, bergamot, rose, jasmine, musk, winter woods

BELLE CHERIE – not yet released, but we were treated to a sneak preview. A fruity gourmand scent, again with a slight discordant aspect that didn’t go away, unlike Diamant. The lone reviewer of this scent on Makeupalley detected a "whacking great whallop of ethyl maltol", which probably gives it its sweetie shop character.

Notes: tangerine, star fruit, jasmine, heliotrope, lily of the valley, sandalwood, tonka bean and vanilla.

So in the end I came away empty handed, though Capucine and Diamant definitely merit a retrial. Seems like I will have to wait till I am back in Paris for that.

I would be interested to get anybody else’s take on the Fragonard range, namely views about the company's low key sales strategy, and whether the brand feels exclusive to you or not. Despite having taken the tour of the museum, I haven't changed my view of the brand, I must say, but I can't quite put my finger on why I don't quite consider Fragonard "a serious player".

Photo of museum entrance from france-for-visitors.com, photo of perfume-making equipment from inthemo.com, photo of perfumer's organ from whattoseeinparis.com, photo of Fragonard products from the company's website, photo of the shop from tripadvisor.co.uk

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: No 2 (Belgium & France) - A "Drowned And Out In Paris" Sniffathon: Printemps & Guerlain

2011-12-17T13:50:00.078Z

I am still "coming down" from the excitement of meeting Olfactoria again yesterday - together with her family this time - but Bonkers is nothing if not chronological, so I will carry on this account of my latest series of work trips with a report from Belgium and France. Nothing much happened in Brussels, except for a major bus-taking coup to my appointment, saving some 55 euros on taxis, which I promptly went and blew on a bottle of Tom Ford Violet Blonde later in the week. Oh, and the fact that within the space of 24 hours I was kerb crawled AND had a teenager give up her seat for me on the Metro. This prompted me to speculate whether I am now on that finely balanced cusp between cougar and care home... ; - )

Then last Tuesday found me in Paris. The day got off to an inauspicious start: I had to get up preternaturally early (for me) and caught a train out to a gritty and rainswept suburb north of the city centre. By 8.40am I was queuing outside a branch of McDonald's waiting for them to open. I was cold and wet to the bone (umbrellas being a liability in the prevailing high winds), and the day had barely begun. At 9am, the drive-by hatch opened (though unfortunately not the seating area), and I enjoyed the freshest egg McMuffin ever made, washed down by a piping hot cup of tea (for McDonald's!). I could even overlook the lack of milk just to have something warm to wrap my hands around.

By 1pm, things were definitely looking up. My meeting over, I was in position in the area around the Gare Saint-Lazare, home to the upmarket department store Printemps, with several more cups of tea inside me and a grim determination not to let the truly diabolical weather get in the way of a good sniffing session. It turned out to be an episodic day - or a "sodding epic" day, to borrow Mr Bonkers' robust phrase - and here are the highlights...

I had visited Printemps on my last visit to Paris in 2009, and remembered that it offered a good selection of niche scents in a compact area within the main perfume hall known as the Scent Room. To be honest, given the rather fluid floor plan, I couldn't quite work out the demarcation between the Scent Room and the rest of the perfume counters, not that it really mattered.

I decided to be quite focused in my approach and spent most of my visit split between the Jo Malone, Dior, L'Artisan Parfumeur and Etat Libre d'Orange counters.

JO MALONE

The tea range was nowhere to be seen, and the assistant was tied up with a "proper customer"(!), so I couldn't even blag a sample of Wild Bluebell (to replace the grapefruit one I was given in error in Germany!); instead I contented myself with having a quick and ginger sniff of a couple of the Intense Colognes.

Iris & White Musk

Does what it says on the bottle - pleasant enough, but forgettable.

Rose Water & Vanilla

Thick and throat catching, a bit like one of those treacly Guerlains.

I steered clear of Amber & Patchouli and Oud & Bergamot, as patchouli and oud are not my favourite notes at the best of times, never mind amplified by an "intense cologne" effect!

DIOR LA COLLECTION PRIVÉE

I asked to try a few of the Collection Privée range of which I had read favourable reviews, and the sales assistant also suggested one or two others for me to try.

New Look 1947

I already know and love this one, and cherish my small decant. I picked up the cylindrical 125ml bottle with its clunky magnetic top, fondled it for a bit and put it back again. I don't need 125ml of any perfume, though 150 euros was a reasonable price to pay, ml for ml. I shall wait to see if the lemming gets the better of me, in which case I can always pick it up in London for the slightly lower price of £120. I gladly accepted the sales assistant's offer to perfume me generously around my neck area. In this way she was able to mark her territory and hopefully reel me in to make a purchase later in the day. "With an EDP or EDT you'll find that if you really love it, you will use it up." And despite my collection of bottles now topping the 70 mark, I almost....almost...believed her.

Ambre Nuit

Soft, sheer, barely there, faintly spicy oriental. Very elegant - my next favourite after New Look 1947. I only tried it on card but liked it enough to look up the notes:

Pink Pepper, Bergamot, Spices, Turkish Rose, Amber, Balsamy (sic) Notes, Cedar, Patchouli, Gaiac Wood

Mitzah

Didn't get beyond a tentative sniff of the nozzle with this one. Heavy, spicy ambery, boozy fright wig of a scent. For all I know, the drydown might be spectacular, but I am not sure I could last the course to find out!

Bois d'Argent

A pantomime horse with Juniper Sling at the front end - with the merest hint of Craft, the most metallic scent from Andrea Maack - and Chanel No 19 Poudré at the back end. A very stylish and wearable unisex scent. "Pantomime" is in no way meant as a criticism.

UPDATE: I have now been given a generous decant of this by Tara, and it smells nothing like the scent I smelt in Paris. As a check, I have just sprayed Bois d'Argent on card, which clears up the discrepancy - it is a totally different animal on card, on initial spraying, certainly - then it becomes more like the decant version. On skin this is the faintest leather and honeyed vanilla, while on card the opening was bright and citrus-y with the iris peeking through. How weird!

Granville

As I think I said in a comment over on Olfactoria's review of Granville, this scent is forever destined to remind me of a local wine bar with the same name. That aside, it smelt just as I imagined, if not better: that MH Fleur de Sel-like, bracing, aromatic, seaside vibe. Not a genre that is really "me", but extremely well done.

Milly-la-Forêt

A ho-hum fruity floral not worthy of inclusion in the range, imho.

L'ARTISAN PARFUMEUR MON NUMÉRO COLLECTION

Having torn myself away from a purchase of New Look 1947, I headed over to the L'Artisan counter to check out more of the Mon Numéro Collection, being only familiar with Nos 6 and 8 to date. No 6 was an unfortunate mix of Fleur de Liane crossed with PG Papyrus de Ciane (beware of scents ending in -iane is the clear learning point here!), while No 8 was the pretty iris skin scent I remembered. The assistant tried to nudge me towards a purchase by playing the scarcity card: "This is the one developed for the Japanese market, you know, and when it is gone it is gone. No 10 has already gone, for example."

In fact, the only other ones left to try were Nos 3 and 4, both of which were resolutely not my thing. According to the SA, No 3 contained notes of lavender, vetiver and patchouli, while No 4 had notes of lavender, carnation, spices and muscat. The only useful comment I can add to that is "Yeek!"

ETAT LIBRE D'ORANGE

Moving on swiftly, I had a quick test of a couple of scents in the neighbouring Etat Libre d'Orange fixture: Sécrétions Magnifiques (which I had managed to dodge up to now: in hindsight - or in "nethersmell" - with good reason!), and Bendelirious, of which I had just read a review by the Candy Perfume Boy that day, so it was top of mind at the time - and very much the ditzy, va-va-voom floral he described.

Pausing briefly in the Hermès concession to cadge a sample of Santal Massoïa for Olfactoria (using my tried and tested "boyfriend with upcoming birthday" ruse), I started to wander vaguely in the direction of Place Vendôme. In view of the weather, I more or less gave up trying to navigate, but still managed to pass entirely at random a Maître Parfumeur Gantier outlet, two Guerlain boutiques, one of Annick Goutal, one of Comme des Garcons and one of Maison Kurkdjian.

GUERLAIN BOUTIQUES (and ongoing forensic inquiries about Plus Que Jamais)

I only actually went into the Guerlain boutiques, because I was either familiar with the ranges of the others, or didn't care for them in the main. Well, the former reason also applies to Guerlain, but I was on a continuing mission to find out what became of Plus Que Jamais - or Plus Jamais , as it should now be known since it was discontinued. In both stores the assistants tried to find me a substitute - namely Nuit d'Amour and (most oddly), Jardins de Bagatelle.

Try as I might, I couldn't seem to convey the fact that I only wanted this particular scent, or if I couldn't have it, I wanted to know why it had been axed. One assistant had heard that a specific ingredient in it was now on the prohibited list, so rather than reformulate the scent, they had decided to knock it on the head completely.

I find this terribly sad... If I get a moment, I might ring up the people at No 68 (which I didn't have a chance to visit this time) to see if they can confirm the truth of this. I would also like to know what the offending ingredient might have been that led to the premature demise of Plus Que Jamais, and whether they had had any inkling of the rule change. I sense not, for they can't have recovered their development costs during the scent's all too short lifespan.

Time to dive into another cafe for more tea and homemade creme caramel...

Coming up in Part 2 - the Fragonard Museum, JAR, and IUNX revisited (hard on the heels of Ines and Asali!)

Photo of Printemps exterior from routard.com, photo of Printemps display from parisdeuxieme.com, photo of Jo Malone Rose and Vanilla Intense Cologne, L'Artisan Mon Numéro No 8 and Guerlain Plus Que Jamais from fragrantica.com, photo of Dior Ambre Nuit from aufeminin.com, photo of Place Vendôme by night from destinationsperfected.com - no photos my own on account of the rain!

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: No 1 (Germany & Switzerland) - Parfümerie Bauer, Rüdesheim

2011-12-10T23:50:00.046Z

Apart from the duty free fragrance section at Birmingham airport on my outward journey, I didn’t expect to have any other sniffing opportunities on this trip - my itinerary mostly took me to rural areas, where you would struggle to find a McDonald’s (my go-to tea, toilet and wifi pitstop), never mind a quality department store or an independent niche perfumery. What I could count on though were Christmas markets – or Weihnachtsmärkte as they are known here. I encountered no fewer than three in fact: in Rüdesheim, Heidelberg and Rottenburg am Neckar. I wouldn’t say I am “marketed out” now, but let’s just say that if I see another pair of olive wood salad servers, felt wrist warmers, chunky candles in every shade of lurid, guardian angels fashioned out of wire and wisps of fluff, and stalls selling Glühwein and currywurst, I will scream.

Imagine my delight then to discover – tucked away behind the serried ranks of wooden huts lining the Rhine promenade in Rüdesheim – a perfumery called Parfümerie Bauer carrying an eclectic selection of niche and designer scents.

When I say eclectic, I mean things like the Les Notes Gourmandes range from Reminiscence, which I have only ever come across in Budapest. There it was, in all its pastel finery, next to the more usual suspects like Creed and Serge Lutens.

But what caught my eye immediately on entering the store was the enormous collection of miniatures, and I mean enormous. I have never seen so many gathered together in one place, and it took me a full forty minutes to get the measure of the selection, and to realise it is high time I got myself some reading glasses, for the labelling on some of these bottles was minuscule.

And at the risk of blowing my own trumpet, I might also point out that the proprietor, Herr Bauer, complimented me on my competent handling of the glass fronts to the display cabinets, saying that I slid them back and forth "like a pro", and would be welcome to work there. : - )

Herr Bauer also asked me if I was by any chance related to the German perfume company called Mouson. I said I didn’t think so, and on seeing a poster for this brand at the back of the shop I realised that Mouson was spelled differently, though my name is pronounced just like that in German, with a round “u”, so I could see why Herr Bauer should think to inquire. I have since found a listing of the company's scent launches, starting around the turn of the last century.

Herr Bauer pointed out another curio in the shop, namely part of a collection of scent bottles belonging to Hugh Parsons, a British perfume house known better overseas than in its home markets – the fragrance equivalent of Beefeater Gin, if you will, which is another well known export brand.

A lone bottle of Amouage in a glass case on a plinth was another talking point, and I learnt that Parfümerie Bauer has some very exclusive customers in the Middle East and Africa, amongst them royalty and other dignatories. Herr Bauer drew my attention to a group photo in which he is posing – in some form of ceremonial dress - alongside his distinguished clientèle.

Things were getting more surprising by the minute! I also learnt that Parfümerie Bauer is one of only eight stockists in Germany of Lancôme Climat. By my reckoning that equates to one for approximately every 10 million inhabitants. Now is that a reasonable ratio, do you think? I have not tried Climat (I didn’t spot a tester), but it certainly sounds on the light side to me...

Oh, and I also did that picking up and fondling routine with a bottle of Après L’Ondée, but at 99 euros for 100ml (the only bottle size, sadly), that is more than I wanted to spend, and more perfume than I could ever use.

Finally, after much peering, I ended up buying minis of Private Collection parfum(!), Knowing parfum(!) and vintage YSL Paris EDT (I wanted to give those violent violets another crack of the whip, as it were). In return, Herr Bauer showered me with an assortment of unexpected gifts with purchase: a box of chocolates, a pen shaped like a lipstick bearing the name of the shop, a mini of Dior J’Adore, and a clutch of other designer samples.

So that was another example of "scent-related serendipity" on my travels... Oh, and on my way back through the market stalls, I succumbed (to the cold as much as the sales pressure!) and bought some wrist warmers too...

Photo of Lancôme Climat from fragrantica.com, all other photos my own.

A Trio of Bonkers Trips: No 1 (Germany & Switzerland) – Doorstepping myBeautyBlog in Lüneburg

2011-12-08T12:50:00.030Z

In everyone’s circle of friends, there is supposedly at least one person you could ring up in the middle of the night if you had to, say if you were having a personal crisis of some kind. I believe I have at least a couple of friends like that, but I trust I will never be in such dire straits as to feel the need to take them up on their kind offer. If I were them, I wouldn’t particularly relish being roused at bleary o’clock to lend a listening ear or some more practical form of help.

And then there are the friends you can disturb during the day – by just turning up unannounced, pretty much – and know (or be confident at least) that they will be pleased to see you at virtually no notice.

MyBeautyBlog is such a friend. She is both perfumista and make up blogger, The Non-Blonde of the German-speaking world, if you will - or “DACH-Gebiet”, as it is known in business circles (the acronym DACH being composed of the country abbreviations for Germany, Austria and Switzerland respectively). There may well be others, but I have only come across one other perfume blogger writing in her native German, namely Lena Brombacher of Olfactorialist – well, in both English and German in fact, for there are two versions of her blog. For of course the other well known blogger from that neck of the woods, Olfactoria of Olfactorias Travels, has opted to write in English, giving her blog international reach far beyond her home turf of Central Europe.

But for perfume lovers in the DACH-Gebiet who prefer to interact in their mother tongue, myBeautyBlog (real name Andreea) fills an important role, and her proudly advert-free blog is still going strong after six years. Andreea is in her early thirties but looks as young as Ari of Scents of Self actually is, though she doesn’t look her age either…! : - )

MyBeautyBlog and I “met” on Now Smell This, the mother ship of blogs where a number of my early fumehead friendships were forged. We first met in person in spring 2009 on a blind sniffing date in Hamburg, and then again in April of this year. We took a sightseeing tour of Andreea's home town of Lüneburg and enjoyed a memorable al fresco meal by the river in the company of her fiancé and his best man-to-be. And then in August it was thanks to a timely text exchange with Andreea that I discovered the Königsparfümerie in Dresden.

And so to the latest bonkers trip… After my first appointment near Hamburg at the start of my itinerary, I called Andreea on my mobile and asked her to guess where I was. “Er, round the corner?” she replied, sussing my game immediately. “Nearly – I am about 16km away. I know it is cheeky to call you out of the blue like this, but would you have time for a cup of tea?”

And so it was that some 40 minutes later, myBeautyBlog met me outside the university where she works. After a quick peep in her office, we adjourned to the canteen for that much needed cup of tea (on my side), and had a good old catch up on news, notably how the plans were going for her imminent winter wedding (now just over a week away!) To preempt reader inquiries the groom is predicted to wear Guerlain Cologne No 68, and the bride is hoping to be surprised with a wedding scent gift on the day. Well, I use the word “surprised” advisedly – I think the groom has been given some fairly heavy – and named – hints, including Parfum d'Empire Eau Suave and Kelly Calèche Extrait if my memory serves me.

At some point obviously we needed to sniff one another’s scent of the day: Andreea had applied hers to the nape of her neck, which made for some comical and ostentatious craning on my part, but if they did happen to notice, no one in the canteen appeared to be remotely fazed by this strange friendship ritual. I correctly guessed that Andreea was wearing a cunning mélange of Jardin sur le Nil and Jardin sur le Toit, while my own SOTD of Dior New Look 1947 had her foxed, but that was fair enough given that she had never smelt it.

After a pleasant hour or so of shooting the breeze, we said goodbye back at my car, but not before I had extracted my vial of Hermès Santal Massoia for Andreea (a big Hermès fan, as you may have gathered) to try right there on the spot, for those 4ml tubes do not lend themselves to being shared. We stood in the dark and cold for a couple of minutes as Andreea huffed her wrists – she liked what she smelt, but in no time at all the scent seemed to disappear, a phenomenon which she lamented as happening to her more and more often lately.

And I thought how curious we might appear to anyone passing by, two women standing by an open car boot, barely acquaintances really - from different countries and different generations - both intently sniffing the same pair of wrists, united by our passionate shared interest.

And then it was my turn to disappear, off to my next port of call…

Have a wonderful wedding next week, myBeautyBlog! And if and when you have a moment, do let us know what you wore on the day!

UPDATE: MyBeautyBlog's wedding report is now up on her blog here. It is in German, admittedly, but even for non-German speakers it is well worth checking out this and an earlier post for the lovely photos of Andreea's dress, makeup and bouquet.

Photo of Lüneburg from bach-cantatas.com, photo of myBeautyBlog from her website, photo of Leuphana university from ffb.uni-leuneburg.de, photo of Hermès Santal Massoia from stylelist.com

A Trio Of Bonkers Trips: No 1 (Germany & Switzerland) - More Sniffing At Birmingham Airport

2011-12-03T16:40:00.042Z

Just when I think I have got this travelling lark down to a fine art, St Christopher throws me a curved ball... (I think I mean St Christopher - St Nicholas is Christmas, right?). For the journey to the airport on this, the first of my three work trips, was more than usually fraught, starting with impromptu roadworks on all the main roads leading into Stafford town centre. Traffic was at a standstill, but luckily the taxi driver had already fallen foul of the gridlock with his previous fare, so we wove a circuitous route via the back roads and I made my train with minutes to spare. I was glad I had thought to reserve a seat, because the coaches were so full that in the absence of seats - or even standing room - some passengers had wedged themselves into the luggage racks, quite literally "stowing" themselves away...

On reaching the airport, I thought I would soothe my frazzled nerves with some stodgy comfort food, but the gristly grey sludge that passed for the filling of a Cornish pasty only served to put me more on edge. "Never mind", I said to myself: "The duty free section is always good for a spot of perfume therapy."

I had travelled through Birmingham only last August, so didn't expect a great deal to have changed in the fragrance section. I gave the Chanel Les Exclusifs counter a wide berth this time, for fear that an assistant would waft a blotter with Jersey on it under my nose. I could see the large size tester prominently displayed on top of the fixture and shuddered as I scuttled past, training my eyes on the Dior lipsticks straight ahead.

I did get nobbled by one sales assistant, who urged me to try Kenzo Flower Tag of all things. As it was one of the few scents in the line I had not sampled, I relented, though not before I had warned the SA that I wasn't exactly the target demographic for Tag and fully expected not to like it. The SA looked a bit taken aback, then downright puzzled as I added: "This is just in the spirit of scientific inquiry, you understand". In the event Tag reminded me of a weedier, more watery version of Hugo Boss Deep Red.

"It's got rhubarb", remarked the SA helpfully. I was impressed by her powers of intuition, for it so happens that I will cut a "rhubarb-forward" perfume a lot of slack, though in the case of Tag, it still wasn't enough. "I know", I replied, "but the overall effect isn't doing it for me."

"What about Kenzo Amour? That's nice - would you like to try that?"

"No, I do know that one, but I blow hot and cold with heliotrope, I'm afraid."

"Do like heliotrope, then?"

Which was my cue to melt into the nearby Tom Ford fixture, where I managed for the umpteenth time to pick up a bottle of Violet Blonde and put it down again. I went through a similar charade with both Bottega Veneta and Prada Candy - somehow the mere act of picking up the pack and fondling the smooth cellophane in my hand for a moment seemed to miraculously assuage some of my spenderlust.

So what did I actually sniff, apart from Tag? Here are some mini - or even micro nuggetlet - reviews of a few scents that were either new to me or which I was retesting:

Balenciaga Paris L'Essence

Green cut-glass violets

YSL Paris

Violent violets - as opposed to Parisienne, its younger cousin, which is (as I have said before) merely disgruntled purple talc. I didn't get the rose very much, though maybe it was busy stoking the furious violet furnace. Wasn't it Luca Turin who called this one "roaring rose"?

Chloe EDP Intense

Tautology

Estée Lauder Sensuous Nude (reprise)

Burnt hazelnuts (still), but smoother on skin than on the blotter when I last tried it in August. More of a cold cream and truffle feel to it as opposed to sharp fragments of shell.

Vivienne Westwood Cheeky Alice

Floral oxymoron

Supposedly the "sexier older sister" of Naughty Alice, you just know from the sales blurb below (courtesy of Now Smell This) that this simply cannot be so...

"At the heart of this cheeky and delightful fragrance is a fresh and floral bouquet that perfectly captures Alice’s femininity and impertinence. The delicacy of the lily of the valley catches your attention and subtly leads you to a voluptuous and noble fragrance of fresh peony mixed with a touch of rose, eternal symbol of womanhood."

Even allowing for the touch of rose, "voluptuous and noble fresh peony" is patently a contradiction in terms. Trust me on this - the musky, peppery, Kenzo Amour Indian Holi-esque Naughty Alice is the cheekier of the two, and frankly it is no more cheeky than a slightly upturned nose.

And d'you know what? - after about six hours they all smelt quite pleasant, even Chloé Intense (just about : - ) ).

Photo of Birmingham airport from bhxflightguide.blogspot.com, photo of pasties from flickr.com, photo of Kenzo Flower Tag from feelunique.com, photo of Chloé EDP Intense from comparestoreprices.co.uk, photo of Chloé EDP Intense from perfumediary.com

Bonkers Is Off Again...!

2011-11-27T10:03:00.012Z

Just a quick word before I shoot off on the next work trip to Germany and Switzerland. I would firstly like to thank my 90th follower for rounding the total up to a nice number, and presumably squaring up the edges of the avatar mosaic. I intend to hold a prize draw (cash in on those bingo searches, why not?!) if and when I hit 100.

I am going to be away almost the whole time between now and Christmas, with short and fairly frantic pitstops at home between trips, so posting will doubtless become "spotty" (I believe this is the correct technical term). Or even spottier than of late, say, for the last two weeks have been largely taken up with appointment-making and travel plans. For anyone who follows me on Facebook I will probably manage to maintain some kind of tenuous stream of drivel over there, though the jury is out as to whether that is a good thing.

While I am away, Mr Bonkers has been instructed to keep a watchful eye on the plants and on Charlie Bonkers, whose incipient incontinence issues gave me cause for concern this weekend, spectacularly derailing my progress through the "to do" list.

Which reminds me - what shall I do with the three parsnips in the fridge?

Photo of Stafford station from flickr.com

Google's "Go-Faster-To" Perfume Blogs: Play The Predictive Search Results Game!

2011-11-25T18:48:00.064Z

Things have been a bit hectic here lately with preparations for a series of back-to-back, multi-modal(!) trips to half a dozen countries (ie the usual bonkers fare : - ) ). This week I also learnt that the electrical signals in my heart are taking a cheeky shortcut which needs further investigation, while my blood is showing signs of intolerance to alcohol entirely disproportionate to my intake! This corpuscular phenomenon needs me to knock back (as in reduce, not swig) my nightly tippling for a while and see if that makes a difference. And then as any Facebook followers may have clocked, Mr Bonkers and I argued live on my wall about which of us needlessly put a Tupperware of mixed nuts in the fridge. Looking back, I am just grateful I didn't have to cook a full turkey dinner as well.

Although I haven't had time to do much blogging recently, I did want to fit in a quick post before I go off on Sunday, and decided to take an aspect of what could loosely be called "social media rankings" as my theme, not least because - as will become apparent - it is the sort of piece that quite literally writes itself... ; - )

In a previous post I puzzled over my involuntary classification in Wikio's Beauty Blog league table. Another possible indicator of a blogger's cyberspace status relates to predictive search results, ie how quickly Google anticipates the particular phrase for which you are searching, in this case a blog title.

According to an article in The Daily Mail, Google discovered that the average search request takes nine seconds to type, then on average users spend a further 15 seconds deciding which result to pick.

Here Google sings the praises of its 'Instant' facility, launched in 2010: "'Instant' takes what you have typed already, predicts the most likely completion and streams results in real-time for those predictions - yielding a smarter and faster search that is interactive, predictive and powerful."

Well, I would have predicted that it is predictive, if it is predicting predictions, but no matter...

This new technology allegedly saves the user between two and five seconds, collectively equating to eleven hours of user time every second!

As for my own blog, I have noticed lately that when you type in "Bonkers about" - on my computer at least - "perfume" is the second suggestion after "babies", quickly followed by "bingo" and "buttons", ie the name is slowly climbing to the top of the predictive tree, though babies will be very tough to topple.

However, if you only type in "bonkers" you get "bonkers beds", "bonkers lyrics" and "bonkers Swindon" in that order - which is odd, as I used to live in Swindon! If on the other hand you go as far as "bonkers about p", you get "perfume" first (yay!) and "parties" second. Now I suspect that my blog is higher up the rankings on my own computer than it would be on someone else's, so if anyone fancies inputting any of these bonkers combinations and seeing how much lower I am ranked on their system, I would be curious to know if my theory is correct.

But having one's blog title readily suggested by the searchbots is only half the story, for it all depends how unusual your name is in the first place. The more common the terminology in the title, the longer it will take Google to come up with it, while blogs like "Cafleurebon", "Persolaise", "Olfactarama" and " Olfactorias" (before you even get to the "travels" bit) are pretty much googlewhacks. Now it doesn't mean that those unusual names were chosen by the blog owners for that specific reason, though in the case of "Cafleurebon" I'd put money on it, as they are very SEO-savvy.

And then just the other day Tarleisio changed the name of her blog from "Scentless Sensibilities" to the more esoteric title of "The Alembicated Genie": while the "The" doesn't get us much further than a clutch of British newspapers ("The Sun", "The Guardian"), "Alembicated" is a direct hit!

So for a laugh I played around with a handful well-known perfume blog names and present the more amusing results below. Note that this list is by no means exhaustive, plus there may be a UK or European bias, so if anyone comes up with other entertaining alternatives in their corner of the Interweb, do let us know!

Bloody Frida (keyword "bloody")

Bloody Mary
Bloody Sunday
Bloody disgusting
Bloody Mary recipe

A cocktail of violence...!

Redolent of Spices (keyword "redolent")

Redolent definition
Redolent synonym
Redolent in a sentence

People are clearly struggling with the meaning of the word "redolent"...

Undina's Looking Glass (keyword "Undina")

Undina
Undinal
Undina yacht for sale
Undina for sale

More a yacht than not, it would seem.

Scents of Self (keyword "scents")

Scentsy
Scentsy
Scentsations
Scentsational

Bad pun central!

Candy Perfume Boy (keyword "candy")

Candy
Candy bar
Candystand
Candy bar girls

Confectionery, billiards and a TV show about a famous lesbian bar in Soho - something for everyone there, I sense!

Now Smell This (keyword "now")

Now
Now 79
Now magazine
Now that's what I call music

Now that's what I call a perfume blog!

Katie Puckik Smells (keyword "Katie")

Katie Price
Katie Price Twitter
Katie Waissel
Katie Melua

Pipped by big jugs and vocal chords!

Beauty On The Outside (keyword "beauty o", because the first result with added "o" was so great)

Beauty of annihilation
Beauty outlet
Beauty of Bath

And finally, I am pleased to say that in the case of its own predictive search service, Google doesn't deliberately skew the results in its favour. I put "Instant" in and got:

Instant display
Instant payday loans
Instant loans
Instant messaging

For yes, in the grand scheme of things - and particularly in these recessionary times - "instant loans" are much more important than saving yourself a couple of seconds...

Photo of babies from pixdaus.com, photo of bingo from tutor2u.net, photo of face made of buttons from lisakokin.com, photo of Bloody Mary from like-a-boss.org, photo of Undina yacht from britishclassicyachtclub.org, photo of the Candy Bar from flickr, photo of Katie Price from theprivateplatecompany.com

Long Term Perfume Loves - Er....No - Just This T-Shirt Dress!

2011-11-20T14:44:00.035Z

When I met Jan Evoud Vos, the founder of Puredistance, in Holland last September, I asked him what colognes he had worn before creating his own range of perfumes. I remember being struck by his answer, namely that he had worn Chanel Antaeus for the past 30 years, and currently toggles between that and his own scent, M. 30 years? Antaeus must be impressive stuff to inspire such unswerving loyalty. And 30 years is such a very long time compared to the paltry three years of my own interest in perfume - serious interest I mean, as opposed to my fairly indifferent, casually monogamous relationship with fragrance down the years.

So I decided to write a retrospective post, examining my chequered perfume-wearing past prior to my epiphany in January 2008. I shall look for any patterns in the fragrance styles I was drawn to, or reasons at least for why I wore what I wore. There is certainly no long term perfume love to mention, and I have owned so few bottles between the ages of 18 and 48 that it is possible to call each and every one of them to mind. I will group these scents by "reason for acquisition" rather than listing them in chronological order, though that would have been easy enough.

Unsolicited presents from boyfriends

Nina Ricci L'Air du Temps
Halston Woman
Chanel No 5

SA-driven impulse buys at airports

Lancôme Trésor
Thierry Mugler Angel
Estée Lauder Intuition

Purchases prompted by a wish to be vaguely in tune with the Zeitgeist

Cacherel Loulou
CK Eternity

Purchase prompted by a wish to emulate my very cool lodger, Caroline

Givenchy Ysatis

Purchase prompted by a wish to enhance my pulling powers during a decade of peak opportunity

Lancôme Magie Noire

And that is it!! Magie Noire is probably the only purchase I made without reference to outside influences, and the only scent that truly "spoke to me", and which I wore because it made me feel fantastically alluring. This is doubly curious(!) because of the presence of civet in the composition. Although I have recently come round to animalic notes a bit, it surprises me that I should have liked Magie Noire in my youth - or Ysatis for that matter. I have managed to acquire vintage samples of both scents and the civet note is quite pronounced. They will have of course been reformulated since, however, so maybe it is the more modern synthetic musks that my nose finds disagreeable.

Are there any discernible patterns in my "scent cv"?

I think not, though the position is slightly skewed by three of them having been gifts. That said, my two favourites - Magie Noire and Intuition - were both orientals, my hands-down favourite fragrance category today.

Do I own any full bottles of these today?

Yes, I rebought Intuition at the start of my hobby, the 2001 bottle having long since gone rancid on the bedroom windowsill. I felt that a fresh one should serve as the cornerstone of my new hobby, for this was the only scent I owned when sudden onset perfume mania struck. I should point out, however, that I now count this purchase amongst my early mistakes: I liked Intuition because I had virtually no other reference points in terms of oriental scents, but I find it a bit annoying now, like Stella spoilt with an overdose of grapefruit.

Apart from Intuition, which others do I not like very much anymore?

Probably all but Ysatis and Magie Noire, notwithstanding the presence of civet in both. Trésor and Angel might be all right from a great distance. L'Air du Temps is a "lesser worse" carnation scent, but the note leaves me cold. Loulou is a migraine-inducing abomination, No 5 too aldehydic and sweet, and Halston I have no recollection of at all, though nothing I have read about it in reviews suggests that I would have liked it much, though I was very fond of its donor.

So I am curious to know whether anyone out there has worn a particular scent for 30 years - or since they were a teenager, say, so as not to exclude people on ageist grounds.

And for those of you who only discovered perfume relatively recently - and I know there are a few of us - is there any rhyme or reason to what you used to wear before your conversion to full-blown perfumista?

And finally, I may not have a long term perfume love, but I do have this T-shirt dress - photographed down the ages by three different boyfriends, rather fittingly in Greece on each occasion! I loved it so much that I have been known to wear it all day, go out to dinner in it in the evening, sleep in it, and get up the next day and repeat the procedure. You may be pleased to know that my long term T-shirt dress love is about to be slung...

Top photo - Santorini (1987)

Nisyros (1992)

Tilos (1996) - am hoping you can't see the cellulite at this resolution!

Bedtime wear only (2011)

Photo of Halston Woman from yesterdaysperfume.typepad.com, photo of Magie Noire from ebay.co.uk, photo of Intuition from perfumela.com, other photos my own

The Little Book Of Perfumes - The 100 Classics: My Unclassic Taste, And Judging A Book By Its Cover

2011-11-18T15:49:00.048Z

I have had The Little Book of Perfumes for some time now, and a number of excellent blog posts about it have already appeared on the likes of Olfactarama, Perfume Shrine and Now Smell This. Additionally, Robin of NST hosted a readers' Q & A session with authors Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez, which made fascinating reading, even though my own - admittedly rather trivial - question wasn't featured(!), of which more anon.

So given that there are a number of reviews of The Little Book of Perfumes in circulation, most people will have caught up with the fact that this compilation of 100 classic scents is a sample of previous reviews featured in Perfumes: The Guide, and has not been revised to include any new five star perfumes which may have impressed the authors since, which I suppose I had half hoped it would. Turin and Sanchez weren't given any "additional advances or royalties" apparently to produce The Little Book of Perfumes, though I assume they will get royalties of some kind for this latest reworking. I am sure the new publication will do very well for them: it is such a slim and attractively produced volume that I can see it making a perfect stocking filler for perfumistas and "regular" perfume wearers alike.

In her introduction to the book, Sanchez explains the premise on which the featured fragrances were selected:

"The fragrances reviewed in this book are not the greatest of all time - instead, they are those that struck us as far above their peers in quality, inventiveness, or straightforward beauty..."

In addition to the introduction, the extra content includes a few new lists, such as Turin and Sanchez's ten "Desert Island" scents, plus lists called "Best bang for your bucks" and "Best big ticket splurges". I wish! (And instead of star ratings - for these perfumes are of course already the crème de la crème - there are handy $$$ codings to indicate price bracket, like the ones you might find in a restaurant guide.) Then there is a chapter on The Osmothèque museum, together with reviews of four extinct and much lamented scents that the authors would love to see revived, and a chapter on how to beg, borrow or buy perfume samples prior to taking the full bottle plunge, complete with useful names of sources like Luckyscent and The Perfumed Court.

But the main difference between the presentation of reviews in Perfumes: The Guide and in The Little Book of Perfumes is that the wicked humour is confined to some of the updates on reformulations, which have been added beneath a good third of the reviews. So for anyone missing the glorious trademark vitriol of Perfumes: The Guide, they will still find the odd gem in here:

"It's not Joy, but it's not sadness either."

Plus there is Sanchez's dissenting view of Etat Libre d'Orange's notorious Sécrétions Magnifiques, which she would have excluded from the book, but was overruled by her other half(!):

"...absolutely revolting, like a drop of J'Adore on an oyster you know you shouldn't eat".

For the most part, though, the tone of The Little Book of Perfumes is appreciative, and the authors do in fact consider some of the reformulations to have been a change for the better; then with other scents they feel that the perfumers in question have done a good job of "damage limitation" in difficult circumstances (ie working within the constraints of the IFRA restrictions). And in some cases the fragrance may have been radically - and on balance regrettably - altered, yet Turin and Sanchez judge the new version still to have considerable merit.

So as you can imagine the market researcher in me couldn't resist totting up the scents in The Little Book of Perfumes to see to what extent I have "classic" taste. First of all, I had to take out the 15 perfumes I have never tried, and the four included in the Osmothèque section, which obviously I couldn't have tried either, which left 81. Of these, I like just 26 (c32%), split equally between "like a lot" and "actively like but am not that wowed by".

Now I know there are quite a lot of men's fragrances in here, but still... This means that out of the universe of scents I know, I only love 16% of the ones Turin and Sanchez do, which isn't a very high number for someone purporting to be a perfumista. And of only one of them do I own a full bottle (Bvlgari Black). But I am not troubled by this - I like what I like, and there it is.

For what it's worth, here is my "like a lot" list (which is not totally set in stone and also includes one or two perfumes that I probably "admire a lot" rather than love as such):

Bvlgari Black
Chanel 31 rue Cambon
Chanel Bois des Iles
Chanel Cristalle
Chanel Cuir de Russie
Chanel pour Monsieur (on a man)
Dior Homme (on a man)
Guerlain Apres L'Ondée
Guerlain Chamade
L'Artisan Dzing!
Ormonde Jayne Woman
Parfums MDCI Promesse de L'Aube
Tauer L'Air du Désert Marocain

And finally there is the matter of my unanswered question over on Now Smell This, which relates to the covers: they are different in the US and UK editions, plus the lining paper inside the cover is lime green in the UK version and hot pink in the American one.

"What was the thinking behind the two covers/liners then? Why would two versions be necessary? Was this focus grouped in advance? : - ) "

This question continues to puzzle me - did someone take a stylistic decision that Americans would prefer the dotty design, while Europeans would appreciate the gold squiggles and etchings of perfume bottles? Are Americans more drawn to shocking pink than acid green? The most likely answer is simply the fact that the publishers are different: Penguin US and Profile UK respectively, so perhaps each house wanted to "leave its stamp" by differentiating its version of the book from that of the other company.

Would the authors have preferred a uniform "livery", or didn't they have any strong feelings on the matter? I have to say that both designs look attractive, though I prefer the European version. My promised complimentary copy from Penguin US never made it through, so I haven't been able to take close up photos of the alternative design.

Also, what was the thinking behind cutting the paper of the book on the bias (which I assume happened with both editions)? The paper is shaped like a sort of trapezium, which I have never seen before. Is this a random mould-breaking act? Does it perhaps connote Incan temples and associated notions of worship and gods, as befits these classic, "best of" fragrances? Or did the chappy at the printer's operating the guillotine (in both continents) simply have a wonky eye, much like the proof reader who failed to spot "DAZZINGLY" in the quote from India Knight on the UK cover?

Question time....

So for those of you who have a copy of The Little Book of Perfumes already, what % of scents that you know do you like/love? Which are they?

And for anyone reading, which design of the book do you prefer? Is it the one available in your part of the world, or do you have intercontinental leanings?

Photo of US copy of The Little Book of Perfumes and photo of Bvlgari Black both from Amazon, photo of Sécrétions Magnifiques logo from faconalmode.blogspot.com, other photos my own.

David Beckham: A Premier Division Perfumer Right Under Our Noses!

2011-11-15T18:40:00.029Z

A friend has just sent me a link to a remarkable scoop on the UK online satirical news site, Newsbiscuit, dubbed Britain's answer to The Onion by the Laugh Lines Blog of The New York Times. In this article, international soccer superstar and sometime underwear model David Beckham talks about the intensive training he has put in over the years to become a top nose...to go with his killer right foot, "impeccable pecs" and Goldenballs.

I am kicking myself that I managed to miss this before...

And he even mentions civet!

"Speaking to industry journal Heaven Scent, the tabloid favourite exclusively revealed: ‘People think it’s easy...they don’t realise the backbreaking hours of work you have to put in to get this good. The years I spent elbow-deep in civet, coming home stinking of musk and lavender, awash with essential oils. Those were tough days for a young man.’"

Here is a link to the full article. Having now learnt of Beckham's years of dedication to his fragrant craft, I shall certainly upgrade my view of the for Him stable of Intimately Beckham Men, Intimately Beckham Night Men, Instinct, Instinct after Dark, Instinct Ice, Instinct Intense, Pure Instinct, Basic Instinct (I may have made that one up), and a couple of others that boldly broke with the tradition of having names that consistently include the words "Instinct" or "Intimately", typically in a nocturnal setting.

Speaking of instincts...on a whim I looked up my diary entry for the day David Beckham was born: May 2nd, 1975.

The bits I can make out are as follows:

"Moving averages. More scansion. Coal. German conversation instead of German. Mum scalded herself on hot toffee. Vicky wrote in my autograph book."

Should "coal" in fact read "goal"? Could it possibly be a strangely garbled prediction of England's 5-1 win over Germany in 2001, a side captained by David Beckham? And does the reference to my autograph book herald the fact that one day Victoria Beckham, former Spice Girl, fashion designer, mum-of-four and wife of Goldenballs, would launch her own perfume range, including the tellingly named Signature for Her? And might the unfortunate incident involving my mother and a boiling can of sweetened condensed milk presage a future flanker from our husband and wife duo featuring a caramel note?

About as likely as the next Beckham baby being called John, I'd say...

Photo of David Beckham from newsbiscuit.com, photo of Signature for Her from fragrantica.com

Garnier Miracle Skin Perfector Daily All-In-One B.B Blemish Balm Cream Review - A Palate-Cleansing Scentless Post

2011-11-13T18:19:00.036Z

In a comment on my previous post, Katie Puckrik teased me about the ambitious scope of my two hour speed romp through Zurich's finest perfume outlets:

"Judging from the amount of perfumes covered in this post, you have fully lived up to your Flittersniffer moniker. I'm wondering if your Miller Harris ennui had something to do with the fact that you'd already given the best of your love to the 79 fragrances previously sniffed."

I realise that my sniffathon in swish Swiss shops was the perfume equivalent of a supermarket trolley dash, but that is the thing about living in the sticks, as I do most of the time: when you are lucky to find yourself in one of Europe's scent meccas, you want to pack as much in as possible. But between the afternoon in Zurich, the session in Parfumerie Hyazinth in Basel, and the cafe grab-fest that preceded it, I guess I am feeling a bit sniffed out now, while readers' heads may also be spinning. And so I decided to take a break from perfume and write a palate-cleansing post about a beauty product instead.

This is also a cynical move on my part to boost my flagging Wikio Beauty Blog ranking, given that I managed to acquire this mysterious categorisation in the first place. And ideally, I guess I should be taking a chocolate-based beauty product as my subject matter, the better to bolster my emerging Klout reputation for chocolate-themed writing. Quite by chance, I did once feature such a product following my initiation into eyebrow waxing, but you can't pull a stunt like that off every day.

So in the meantime I would like to sing the praises of a new all-purpose beauty product that is getting rave reviews in the media, and of which I received three complimentary samples at the time of its launch: Garnier Miracle Skin Perfector Daily All-In-One B.B Blemish Balm Cream. The name of this cream is a bit of a mouthful to put it mildly, but then this is a multi-tasking product with a lot of benefits to convey!

In a nutshell, Garnier B.B Cream (as I will call it for short) is a light foundation and moisturiser combined that hydrates the skin, evens out blemishes (thanks to its mineral pigments), and gives reasonable yet sheer coverage. It has SPF 15 sun protection and is ideal for people like me who dislike the faff of a multi-stage beauty routine.

Here's the official blurb on this product:

"B.B. creams (short for Blemish Balm) are hybrid products which combine the benefits of skincare and make-up in one.

Initially developed by a German dermatologist in the 1950s to soothe skin and provide coverage, B.B. Creams were made famous in South Korea by an actress famed for her beautiful skin."

Now as a rosacea sufferer, I have been loyal lately to the very wonderful (leaving aside the matter of the missing "u") Revlon Colorstay 04 foundation in Sand Beige, which is just a foundation, but covers redness brilliantly and stays put - and stays matte - all day long and all night, should your lifestyle happen to be a tad more exciting than mine.

Given my usual levels of spot outbreaks and ruddy complexion, I wouldn't have touched this product with a bargepole, for I can no more entertain a product offering merely "sheer coverage" than I could wear a diaphanous blouse without a camisole underneath. As it happens though, the launch of Garnier B.B Cream coincided with my skin being in a very good phase (for me). And so, sold on the convenience of a foundation and moisturiser combined, I did not hesitate to apply for my trial pack of three samples, and tested Garnier B.B Cream every day for about a week. I applied it all over my face instead of just to my nose and chin, as I do with the Revlon foundation to avoid too heavy and mask-like a look.

Well, the first thing to say about the Garnier product is that a little of this goes a very long way, and I got about three days' coverage out of a single sachet. I can only imagine that some users have Very Large Heads and/or a worse distribution of blemishes than even me on a really bad day.

The second thing to say is that Garnier B.B Cream goes on beautifully smoothly and does indeed "melt into the skin" as the sales bumf claims.

"Feel the sensation of the light texture that instantly melts into your skin."

It genuinely is a lovely feeling, doubtless due to the moisturising component of the formulation.

You can build up a bit of coverage in key areas, and Garnier B.B Cream does even out skin tone up to a point, but I don't suppose it would conceal my bad outbreaks of spots or redness - it would be hard to top Revlon Colorstay on that score.

And yes, my skin does feel very soft to the touch with the blemish balm on - "luminous" might be stretching a point, indeed it looks a little greasy if anything, at least initially - but the sensation on the skin once the cream has been on for a while is luxuriantly smooth. So my oily skin does present a bit of a challenge, but I patted powder on top and that takes away most of the greasy aspect. That is the only negative point I can think of really, and for anyone with dry skin Garnier B.B Cream could be just what it is crying out for.

So whilst I wouldn't wear this product on a bad skin day, on a good skin day it is a jolly useful all-in-one product. Like those lipsticks known as YLBB ("your lips but better"), this tinted moisturiser or hydrating foundation or whatever you want to call it in the end is YSBB ("your skin but better"). I shall certainly be buying a tube when I have used up my samples.

UNPHOTOSHOPPED SCARY CLOSE UP ALERT!!!

Just to clarify, in all three photos this is Garnier B.B. cream immediately after I put it on and before applying foundation (ie when at its most shiny!)

And hold on a minute - I just applied some Garnier B.B Cream to the back of my hand to watch the seamless blending in action again, and something prompted me to sniff it. I can report that the blemish balm does in fact smell (very faintly) of something, which I hadn't really noticed before: a vaguely lemongrassy, spa product-type fragrance. A less herbal, more lemony Clarins Eau Ressourcante maybe - something in that ballpark anyway. Now I see that Clarins Eau Ressourcante includes notes of sarsparillia, robinia and longan, and am frankly none the wiser.

Photo of B.B cream from Superdrug blog and Garnier campaign, photo of Lycon wax from Ebay, other photos my own

Solo Sniffing In Zurich: Armani Privé La Femme Bleue, Hermès Santal Massoia, BLOOD Concept, And The Sample-Scoring Power Of A Good Coat

2011-11-09T22:06:00.044Z

After meeting my perfumista friends in Basel, I headed for Zurich, and spent a couple of hours in the Bahnhofstrasse (Zurich's "Golden Mile" in perfume terms). I retraced the steps of my ill-fated sniffathon with Potiron last summer, when I was suffering from a humdinger of a migraine aggravated by the blistering August heat. On this occasion it was a perfectly crisp autumn day with a slight nip in the air, and my head was as clear as the blue sky above me.

I only had a couple of hours before continuing my journey to St Gallen, so I was pretty focused in my sniffing tactics, deffing out the less upmarket options, and targeting instead the smarter department stores (Globus and Jelmoli), along with the niche perfumery Osswald and the Hermès boutique.

GLOBUS

As soon as I entered the cool slate-grey interior of the store, I had vivid memories of being violently sick in the ladies' toilets on my previous visit. As it happens, I had occasion to use the facilities this time, and revelled in how well I felt by comparison!

Fending off the sales assistant who did her damnedest to sell me a boxed set of Valentino Valentina, I had a quick whiff of Annick Goutal Mon Parfum Chéri, par Camille. I don't know if it was the EDT or the EDP, but it was a patchouli-fest that I felt had the potential to trigger another headache, something I was determined to avoid at all costs.

Moving on, my eye was soon distracted by the new Limited Edition release from Armani Privé, La Femme Bleue... Its polished gleaming flacon stood in splendid isolation on a plinth, like an ancient rune crossed with a bluebottle. The blue theme is linked to Armani's Spring/Summer Fashion Collection, which is inspired in turn by "the Tuareg woman, a blue nomad crossing the desert". What between this and Vivienne Westwood's Anglomania, I seem to be bumping into a number of scents aimed at the travelling woman, even if my wardrobe is somewhat lighter on navy ensembles than your average Tuareg.

The sales assistant explained that the production of this perfume has been limited to 1000 numbered bottles for "1000 exceptional women" - exceptional no doubt, because any woman who wouldn't flinch at dropping 400 euros on one of these bottles clearly has money to burn. I must say I spotted a fair few likely candidates cruising the Bahnhofstrasse.

Note listings vary for this scent: the SA mentioned iris and chocolate, while Perfume Shrine also lists woodsy notes, incense and vanilla. The overall vibe of La Femme Bleue is of an elegant, soft powdery oriental: I liked the teaming of the cooler, more severe iris with the warmer, cosier gourmand notes of the chocolate and vanilla. In hindsight it seems fitting that I should be featuring this and Valentina in the space of a week. For it appears that while my Wikio Beauty Blog rating may be languishing in the lower quartiles, I now have an up and coming chocolate Klout reputation to maintain!

The other notable fragrance I sampled in Globus was Prescriptives Calyx. I made a point of reminding myself how this scent smelt because of a chance remark by a reader of my Illuminum White Gardenia Petals Review:

"My bottle that I bought in late April must be from the second 'duff' batch, and I actually like it much better. I described it at the time as being like Prescriptives' Calyx, and as not smelling of gardenia at all."

Well, the opening of Calyx reminded me very much of the official version of White Gardenia Petals - the same tangy, green, airy and almost watery vibe. I wouldn't say I got gardenia in the opening particularly, but there was a definite similarity in the tart, metallic, juicy greenness. Then blow me if the later stages didn't remind me equally markedly of the wrong version of the Illuminum fragrance! - the more softly floral, musky variant. So that was all very strange, and now I would like to get my hands on a sample of Calyx to try the side-by-side comparison at more leisure.

JELMOLI

After Globus, I popped into Jelmoli, the Harvey Nicks to Globus's Selfridges. I whizzed through the niche area, quickly testing Guerlain 04 London, the latest in the Les Voyages Olfactifs Series.

Notes: sheer rose, violet, warm cardamom with sour gourmand nuances of rhubarb.

The SA mentioned the rhubarb note and also tea, those two quintessentially British food- and drinkstuffs...! (Well, I'll given them the tea.) When I sampled it on card I thought I got a huge and offputting whoosh of grapefruit, but maybe it was the "sour gourmand nuances" of the rhubarb. :- ) Incredibly tart, certainly. Despite the SA's best efforts to woo me with a complimentary bottle-engraving option, I moved on to the Tom Ford counter and tried Jasmin Rouge on a card. It was a rich, spicy floral, not really my thing, but better than expected. For some reason I thought it might be an animalic monster like Rochas Femme.

Next up was the Jo Malone counter, where I really liked the new Wild Bluebell cologne. It had all the soft fragrance of the flower without the sharp tinny quality of the Penhaligon's version, the only other bluebell scent I know.

Notes: clove, jasmine, bluebell, lily of the valley, persimmon, eglantine, amber and musk.

Working my good coat for the first time, I boldly requested a sample and the sales assistant opened her drawer without demur. Imagine my disappointment to realise later that she had given me a sample of Grapefruit cologne (presumably in error). Grapefruit, of all things! (Note to self to read the name on the vial before leaving the store...)

Still in Jelmoli, and on a sample-scoring roll, I went across to the Chanel sales assistant and played my "on a mission for a friend who is keen to try this scent and lives in a remote rural area" card, in a bid to wangle a sample of Chanel No 19 Poudré. I was passed over to two other SAs before the drawer magically opened again, but this time I was in luck and got Poudré and not Idylle or Mademoiselle.

In another part of the Guerlain area I was lured over by the curious spectacle of the SA fluttering a clutch of oversized feathers in garish colours that put me in mind of a burlesque dancer. Moments later, I was myself peeping coyly out from behind a feather pre-sprayed with Nuit d'Amour, a rather lightweight floral oriental.

Notes: pink pepper, lychee, rose, violet, rose, iris, sandalwood, musk

Nuit d'Amour was launched as an Exclusive just a year after my - and now also Olfactoria's! - beloved Plus Que Jamais. Sadly, given that Plus Que Jamais has been discontinued, Nuit d'Amour doesn't share the former's affecting Guerlinade base, but has more of a contemporary musky drydown. It was pleasant but not particularly memorable, and went a bit soapy in its later stages. As we were playing the dance of the giant feathers, the SA explained that Nuit d'Amour was partly inspired by a Klimt painting depicting a redheaded lady and a boa. This unexpected variant of the fragrance blotter suddenly made a lot more sense!

I also had a sniff of Liu while I was there (oh, dear me, no!), and clocked the sparkly Christmas edition of Vol de Nuit Shimmer Powder with a gimmick-hardened eye, before briefly scoping the designer fixtures. Here I was mildly intrigued by Givenchy's Dahlia Noir, mainly because of its film noir connotations, but the SA was unable to tell me anything about it or its key notes. "We have so many perfumes on the shelves", she sighed, with a dismissive sweep of one arm, adding helpfully: "You could look it up on the Internet?" So I did, and can report that the notes are nice enough if not groundbreaking.

Notes: mandarin, pink pepper, mimosa, rose, iris, patchouli, sandalwood, vanilla and tonka bean.

I don't remember Dahlia Noir very well except as a pleasantly smooth modern chypre of some kind. Significantly though it lacked the plasticky note that spoils a lot of Givenchys for me, and that alone made me sit up and take notice. Here is a good example of the "least worst syndrome" in action which we were discussing the other day! Well, that is not quite fair, as I did actually like Dahlia Noir, so you could say that my favourable response was amplified to "like a lot", as opposed to mere indifference being upgraded to "like".

HERMES

My next port of call was the Hermès boutique, scene of my finest moment of working the good coat in pursuit of samples, in this case the newest addition to the Hermessences range, Santal Massoia. I played the same "friend in remote location" card, giving it a further twist of "with upcoming birthday", and the ploy worked better than my wildest dreams. For the assistant popped not one but TWO 4ml vials into one of those little orange holders, so that I wouldn't have to go without a sample myself. How thoughtful of her! And what a shameless display of low cunning on my part!

I couldn't find a definitive note listing for Santal Massoia, but there is sandalwood and massoia in here, obviously, and beyond that we have this description of the scent from Jean-Claude Ellena himself.

"There are linear, vertical woods like cedar, and others that are horizontal, round, supple and velvet-smooth, such as sandalwood and massoia. With this understanding in mind, I composed this enigmatic, inviting yet distant perfume of milky woods, with its unusual, pungent hints of resin and dried fruit, and familiar smells of dulce de leche and flowers."

Well, having tried Santal Massoia on skin now several times, I don't think I need to add anything more to Ellena's description, for this surely is "enigmatic" and nuanced milky woods. There's a slightly darker, spicy edge to it, but none of that "trapped in a tea chest" vibe you sometimes get when you put two types of woods together in a fragrance, especially if one of them is cedar, which can come off as quite rough and scratchy. Texturally, Santal Massoia reminds me a bit of Etro Etra, which has pepper and sandalwood and is also very smooth. Much as I love Etra, Santal Massoia smells more subtle and "luxe".

Now I did find that Santal Massoia doesn't last very long on me, but I rarely mark a perfume down for that, and will be happy to reapply it from me and my imaginary friend's generous vial allocation, which more than paid for the hideously expensive left luggage lockers at the station...

OSSWALD

Rather foolishly - a bit like our MO in Basel - I left the most prestigious perfume store to the end, by which time I had used up most of the prime skin sites, and damn near exhausted both nose and brain. So my sniffing in Osswald was more perfunctory than it should have been, and I kicked myself for not heading there first.

I noticed on this visit that Osswald now carries the full range of Illuminum scents, and had a quick check of White Gardenia Petals (correct, greener version!). I also sniffed the four scents in the BLOOD Concept range, which is founded on the rather offbeat notion of choosing scents to match your blood type. However, I gather that crossover is by no means discouraged, as people may be drawn to the characteristics of a different type.

Well, I have no clue what blood type I am, but I only remotely cared for O, the original blood group. (This was once again very much on a "least worst" basis, I should make clear!) As for the official description of O by Giovanni Castelli and Antonia Zuddas, the innovative duo behind BLOOD Concept - why, I certainly didn't see that one coming... : - ) They might as well have called this scent The Marquise Of O!

"It had to be the most intense and wild compared to the whole range. We wanted roots, cuir and wild berries, a carnal and sexual composition of raw elements. When getting into its whiff, people should think of sex, raw and instinctual sex."

Notes: thyme, raspberry, cyperus esculentus, rose hips, leather, birch, cedar wood, metallic notes

Hmm, I wonder if I actually am O... If you read the potted history of blood group evolution on Fragrantica, I sound more like A or B really, as a vegetable-eating person who toggles between a travelling and sedentary lifestyle.

"(After O) Then comes A, when people started to eat vegetables and get more sedentary. Then B, when people started to travel and mix habits and foods."

For descriptions of all four scents, check out BLOOD Concept's Facebook page. As I say, I really didn't like any of the others - they were just too weird and disagreeable. So if you ask me - and as it proved with the Andrea Maack range - this range is another example of a quirky concept taking precedence over wearability. And coincidentally, like a couple of the Maack scents, all four of the BLOOD Concept scents contain metallic notes, though that is no more than you would expect really, given what they are! : - )

In Osswald I also tried the new Miller Harris La Fumée and La Pluie (which smelt much as their names suggest, but didn't wow me particularly), and had a quick sniff of the nozzles of the Olfactive Studio range, which weren't my thing at all. However, I quite liked one of the bafflingly various Biehl Kunstwerke range, a pretty white floral called mb01 (I always have time for another take on tuberose gardenia, or any loose variation on that theme).

Notes: bergamot, mimosa, blackcurrant, tuberose, gardenia, champaca, jasmine, amber, musk, sandalwood.

Then I couldn't help liking the ultra-cute packaging of Swiss range YsUzac (though the four scents left my - admittedly by now deeply jaded - nose unmoved). All in all though, it was a good couple of hours' work, what with the samples of Santal Massoia and Chanel No 19 Poudré, after discounting the Wild Bluebell wild card sample that wasn't. Sadly that is all the time I had, having lost a good 20 minutes out of my schedule when I got sidetracked by a large branch of Zara. I ended up trying on an armful of trousers, which collectively failed to fit in every way imaginable. There was also a set of Zara fragrances I could have investigated, but on such a day that would have been above and beyond the call of duty.

Photo of the Bahnhofstrasse from sengers.ch, photo of Globus from buildingtechnologies.siemens.com, photo of La Femme Bleue from giorgioarmanibeauty.com, photo of Calyx, 04 London and Biehl Kunstwerke mb01 from fragrantica.com, photo of Wild Bluebell advert from jomalone.co.uk, photo of Klimt painting from canvasreplicas.com, photo of Dahlia Noir advert from blog.purentonline.com, photo of Hermès store from global-blue.com, photo of Hermès bottle from the company website, photo of Osswald perfumerie from abelerbro.com, photo of BLOOD Concept logo from artnectar.com, other photo my own (taken by hotel receptionist whose hand could have been a bit more steady).

Meeting The Swiss Perfumistas (Again!): Part Two - Parfumerie Hyazinth, Andrea Maack Perfumes, And The Man With 20 Bottles Of His Favourite Scent

2011-11-06T12:50:00.054Z

This might be a relatively short post (as my scented travelogues go), simply because the present-opening ceremony and perfume grab-fest at the Roter Engel cafe had left all our noses completely sated. But no visit to Basel would be complete without at least a token sniffing session at Parfumerie Hyazinth, a short stroll from the Marktplatz.

Given that half the store's compact interior is already allocated to cosmetics, Hyazinth is all the more remarkable for the extensive range of niche lines carried, including two of my favourite discoveries from 2011, Carner Barcelona and Puredistance. The shelves are stacked literally from floor to ceiling, and on any given section of the fixture there will be at least three niche fragrance ranges below shin height that are all too easy to miss. One of these was Odin: thinking that Potiron might like a couple of scents from this house, I inquired of the sales assistant if they carried the brand, only to find the complete range just north of my left ankle. Potiron was in fact quite taken with 01 Nomad, so my hunch proved correct.

I decided that my nose was too jaded for me to adopt a scattergun approach in my sampling, so I pretty much focused on one range, Andrea Maack, and left it at that. This artist and founder of Iceland's first perfume house has been on my radar for a while and I was intrigued by the blunt monosyllabic names of the individual scents, that match the dour, craggy (and collapsed bank- and ash cloud-overhung) image I have of Iceland.

Additionally, their quirky ring seemed ideally suited to the homeland of Björk, to whom I am often compared. Not for my song writing or singing ability, obviously, but for my looks and occasional propensity to wear outlandish outfits. Several Facebook friends have been egging me on to replicate the famous swan costume, but my progress is slow on the feather gathering front. You wouldn't credit how many of my old pillows appear to be polyester.

So I started out sniffing these Andrea Maack scents predisposed to like them, not least for their pleasing white granite tops, reminiscent of the better end of Magnet fitted kitchens.

Here are my mini-reviews, which should be taken with a pinch of volcanic dust, because my nose was severely challenged by this stage. Moreover, these are no ordinary perfumes, but were created as olfactory interpretations of a series of drawings, as stated on the perfume house's website:

"...the challenge for the perfumers was to reflect on Maack's intricate pencil drawings and turn them into
olfactory experience, making only one version of each."

In an interview last year with Jill Singer of Sight Unseen magazine, Maack explains (somewhat tellingly) that she never set out to be a perfume house per se, adding:

“The next step is to do something more with the drawings, perhaps turn them into textiles. The point is to take my artwork and mass distribute it. It doesn’t really matter what the product is.”

For each of the scents therefore, in addition to listing the fragrance notes, I will extract or paraphrase parts of the website copy about the premise or concept behind it.

SMART

Premise: Smart started with a delicate pencil drawing and was developed for an art exhibition - its inspiration comes from an empty white gallery space.

Notes: Violet leaf, jasmine, sandalwood, vanilla, white musk, buckskin.

I see exactly where Maack is going with this "empty white gallery space" idea. This scent was so light and gentle as almost to defy my nasal receptors. I thought no scent could be too subtle for my tastes, but this one was quiet to the point of mute. I'll call it "soft violets smelt from outer space on a cloudy day".

CRAFT

Premise: Craft stands for Couture Art and "was created for a museum show to enhance the experience of a unique work of art, a hand made sculptural dress made from original pencil drawings". I'll skip the description of this as "a godlike scent" for a "once in a lifetime experience".

Notes: Aldehydes, elemi, cold metal, ice, cedar wood, patchouli.

Craft smelt unpleasantly metallic and cold. Verdict: resoundingly Not A Perfume, though I realise that these scents are not supposed to conform to most people's idea of what a "normal fragrance" should smell like.

SILK

Premise: "The idea of Silk is to enhance the feeling of wearing a perfume - its powdery, airy, earthy, leathery aura makes you imagine a silky smoothness caressing your neck."

Notes: Violet leaves, freesia, lime tree, linen, magnolia, Spanish cistus, earth (ground), papyrus, vanilla, amber.

Well, Silk does more or less deliver on the smooth texture front, however, the consensus of our party was that Silk smelt like a cheaper make of perfume than one would expect for the £85 price tag. Alicka61 was reminded of an Avon scent, which pretty much killed this one stone dead.

DARK

Premise: Dark is "a take on the classic rose note, a bloody, flowery, leathery, seductive perfume with a purpose".

Notes: Yellow mandarin, pink bays (berries), petitgrain, lemon tree, aldehydes, rose, metal, green apple, ambergris, orange blossom, Virginia cedarwood.

I didn't care for Dark, which seemed a confused mix of different scent styles. My notes on the day state: "sharp metallic floral citrus", and both the notes and the website blurb confirm the presence of a "heavy" metallic note which brings an "unexpected surprise". Well, I am sorry but I am not a fan of heavy metal in fragrance as in music, and this dark galvanised rose scent is no exception.

SHARP

Premise: "Sharp was made for an art exhibition to accompany an artisanal dress with drawings carved into the material, creating a repetitive signature pattern."

Notes: Orange blossom, angel skin (pardon?), sweet vanilla, white musk, soothing softness (you are kidding, right?).

Notwithstanding the patently silly note list, this is the scent out of the five which a) I could clearly smell, b) contained no discernible metal note and c) most resembled a "normal" perfume that cost a bob or two. Now it is perhaps wrong of me to look to these "olfactory exhibits" for a fragrance to which I can personally relate, but I can't help thinking whenever I sniff ANY scent, however avant-garde its origin: "Do I like this and would I wear it?"

With Sharp the answer to both questions is yes, and I am pleased to report that it isn't the least bit sharp. Ha - there's another "unexpected surprise"! Sharp is a sweet vanilla and orange scent, and we all thought we had smelt something similar before, but couldn't put our fingers on it. I think it may have reminded me of a less spicy Fendi Theorama, or Ajne Bloom de Nuit or quite possibly Givenchy Organza - it had that "thick" vanilla oriental quality to it.

So in summary, the Andrea Maack perfume range was not an unqualified hit with any of us, though I do admire the concept behind the project of creating scented versions of art works in other media. Yes, I really want to buy into the names of these scents, the bleakly atmospheric backdrop of Iceland's lava fields, the geological packaging - and the quirky Spirograph prints and spiky paper dresses which inspired the range - but I just don't want to smell like most of them.

Finally, this latest visit to Hyazinth was notable for a chance encounter with an American customer, who was standing in the middle of the store regaling a group of friends with a tale of how he loved a particular men's cologne so much that he went and bought a further 20 bottles of it! Well, clearly I couldn't let the matter rest there, and - after first excusing myself for my involuntary eavesdropping - asked him what this extraordinary scent was which had prompted such a stockpiling frenzy. Remarkably it turned out to be a mainstream men's scent, Zino by Davidoff. I made a point of trying this scent when I spotted it a couple of days later in a department store in St Gallen, and have to report that it was a fairly generic woody spicy number, somewhere between Marc Jacobs Bang and D & G By Man. Ah well - serves me right for asking...

Photo of Parfumerie Hyazinth from stoffe.ch, photo of Iceland's lava fields from boddie.org.uk, photo of Björk from gawker.com, photo of Andrea Maack range from the company's website, photo of girls in Andrea Maack dresses from whats-wrong-with-the-zoo.com and trendhunter.com, photo of knives from jayfisher.com, photo of orange and vanilla from hookah-shisha.com, Andrea Maack publicity shot from grapevine.is, photo of Zino perfume from beneash.com, other photo my own.

Meeting The Swiss Perfumistas (Again!): Part One - Caldey Island Gifts And Another Perfume Vial "Grab-Fest"

2011-11-03T11:20:00.067Z

So last week I treated myself to a mini-break in Switzerland, which I split across two centres (Basel and St Gallen), with an afternoon's sniffing in Zurich in between. Basel was the first stop, where that week perfumista friend Potiron was celebrating what is known in German as a "round birthday". Meanwhile, my other fumie friend Alicka61 had celebrated a "round birthday" of her own last summer (there's a clue in her name...). So we decided to get together for a joint birthday bash with added perfume sniffing. Conspicuously missing from our party was the former Swiss resident, Wordbird, who "migrated" back to Wales a year ago. She was with us in spirit though, and had also engaged my mail mule services to send on a gift for Potiron that equated to half her body weight at a guess, a worthy second to her being here in person! : - )

We met at our usual tram stop in the Marktplatz, and after a quick hug and mutual clocking of hair colour changes (Alicka61 darker, me lighter), we repaired to the Roter Engel cafe, where we had sat outside in June of last year, though the weather was a bit too nippy for that on this occasion. The Roter Engel is noted for its outlandishly HUGE tea cups, its ability to serve up a small portion of cold milk on the side without batting an eyelid, and its fine selection of fruit tarts.

I actually opted for a croissant myself, because the Swiss know how to make them properly and they couldn't be further removed from the lumpen yeasty parodies you get in Germany. I suggested we sit at the largest trestle table at the back, thinking that we would need all the space we could annexe for the present-opening ceremony and the subsequent pooling of samples. As you can see from the photo of our "on-table vial jumble", the biggest available surface was a good call.

The session kicked off with Potiron opening her presents, including my gift of an OJ Tiare decant and a few other items loosely connected to perfume storage and reporting - all of them (quite fortuitously) black in colour. And then there was the enormous box from Wordbird, containing a host of goodies, notably several perfumes and chocolate from the Caldey Island range, and some decants and samples from Fragonard, Molinard and Ava Luxe (or Ava Luxard as she is properly known).

I am something of a lavender-phobe as a rule (Ava Luxe No 23 being a shining exception to this rule), and didn't really care for one of Potiron's gifts, the classic Caldey Island Lavender scent, which Luca Turin famously gave five stars, and which is one of the 100 classic fragrances featured in "The Little Book of Perfumes".

The highlight of the Caldey Island range for me was a cute little 5ml mini of the "Number One" perfume from its skin scent range, a very soft and barely there fragrance that I have now got on order myself. : - ) On the company's website the only notes listed are jasmine and rose, and I would be hard pushed to say that they were or they weren't in it, because the scent is so very light and fresh - and frankly ineffable!

Another item from Wordbird's package to which we all took an immediate shine was a sample of Ava Luxe Johri, a crisp, citrusy-green scent which I have since found out has fig in it, though we didn't spot that at the time. It is showing as temporarily out of stock on the Ava Luxe website, but I will be checking back in to see if it reappears - what's not to love about those notes?!

NOTES: Green Fig, Sicilian Lemon, Chinese Pepper Blossom, Galbanum, Coconut Milk, Cedar Virginia, Sandalwood, Tonka, Bourbon Vanilla, White Musk

After the present opening, it was time to toss all our spare samples in a heap in the middle of the table, and take what we fancied, employing the same method as on our first meeting, which I described as follows:

"It was like a leisurely version of supermarket sweep, or perhaps like a swinger's party - where (I believe) you toss your car keys into a bowl. On balance, going away with a clutch of new scents rather than someone else's husband probably offered less potential for emotional discombobulation."

Out of the three of us, I think I may have come off best, for here is my personal grab-fest haul:

GINESTET BOTRYTIS

The Luckyscent website describes this as a "lush autumnal fragrance" and I would agree with that. It pushes the boundaries of my liking for gourmand scents, but never quite strays into that Serge Lutens house style which Abigail of I Smell Therefore I Am so brilliantly dubbed "icky stewed things". It is not as spicy as Aomassai, for example, and has a dusty smoky character to it offsetting the sweetness. It isn't quite me, but I will enjoy dallying with it as the weather gets colder.

Notes: honey, candied fruits, quince, pain d’epice, white flowers.

The name of the scent derives from a type of fungus (or "noble rot") used in wine-making, as I have now learnt in Wikipedia:

"..the fungus removes water from the grapes, leaving behind a higher percent of solids, such as sugars, fruit acids and minerals. This results in a more intense, concentrated final product. The wine is often said to have an aroma of honeysuckle and a bitter finish on the palate."

(Photo of Botrytis cinerea growing on a plate with a ring of visible sclerotia (dark brown balls)!)

VINTAGE CALECHE

Potiron made both me and Alicka61 a decant of this - I look forward to trying it when I am in an aldehydic mood.

PERLES DE LALIQUE

Classic "fuzzy sweater" scent that will be good in winter when my tolerance of powder peaks.

JIL SANDER SENSATIONS

Alicka61 is a fan of Jil Sander (who is much bigger on the continent than over here). Sensations is a warm yet sheer oriental dominated by a sweet, orangey accord. Again it is very modern in feel and reminds me a bit of EL Intuition without the grapefruit (mercifully).

JIL SANDER STYLE

Notes: freesia, mango, cardamom, pink pepper, iris, jasmine, magnolia, woody notes, vanilla, amber and musk

Those notes look very pretty to me (even allowing for the mango), and it is nicer than Valentina on a retrial, but with the same resolutely modern, slightly synthetic feel to it also found in CK Beauty and Caroline Herrera 212.

AMOUAGE LYRIC WOMAN

For when I am feeling braver and have got over my memories of the curry note from the last sampling.

LE FEU D'ISSEY BY ISSEY MIYAKE

A discontinued lactonic ambery woody treasure recently reviewed by Candy Perfume Boy here. I was delighted to pick up a sample of this in our grab pile!

MOLINARD FLEUR DE FIGUIER

Grabbed on the strength of the name alone and it doesn't disappoint. Neither juicy and fruity like PG Jardins de Kerylos nor woody and dry like Philosykos (both of which I also like), it has more of an in-between greenness about it. L'Artisan's Premier Figuier might be the nearest to it though even that is more woody, I think, and also boasts a phantom coconut matting note entirely absent here.

MOLINARD NIRMALA

Keep thinking this is called Nirvana and hoping it will send me there. Alicka61 explained that it has been compared to Angel. There is an enormous peach note in the opening, and am currently waiting for chocolate and candyfloss to join it.

ANDY TAUER ORANGE STAR

Briefly tried at the perfume store to which I so badly want to add a definite article but which is in fact called Scent Bar. In the fog of war (aka my extensive sniffing session with fellow perfumista Qwendy), I recall being pleasantly struck by the complete absence of Tauerade in this one, but it was a fleeting impression so a retrial is indicated!

NINA RICCI LOVE IN PARIS

Someone in Perfumeland likes this one very much - it may be my friend Farah or possibly even Wordbird herself. So I will keep an open mind, even if the name doesn't particularly endear this scent to me. Couldn't resist a quick spritz and the opening strikes me as pretty and feminine. And I note that the nose behind Love in Paris is the extremely personable Aurelien Guichard. Definitely now added to my list of easy to wear daytime scents.

Notes: bergamot, star anise, apricot, jasmine, peony, rose, crystal musk, woodsy notes, vanilla.

VIVIENNE WESTWOOD ANGLOMANIA

As the only Brit in our party I was urged to take this one. And on the card it actually says: “The bewitching empire of the senses for a modern nomad, mixing British eccentricity and Asian intensity to express extrovert femininity.”

“You should take it”, my friends said: “You’re a modern nomad with all your trips and you’ve got the Asian eyes too!”

Not convinced I have the extrovert femininity to go with this one, but I'll gladly give it a whirl.

LIZ CLAIBORNE CURVE

Liz Claiborne is one of those famous US mainstream houses I have heard of but never tried, being woefully behind the curve. : - ) I think it is at the more downmarket end of designer, and the notes are a little sparse - did the budget only run to three? - but it smells all right actually, a sort of clunkily yoked together aquatic woody floral. The wood has quite a kick to it and is faintly spicy:

Notes: citrus, water lily, and sandalwood

REALM FOR WOMEN

And last but not least, in terms of the concept certainly, if not the scent itself, we have Realm for Women perfume, from Erox Corporation. It proudly describes itself on the card that came with the sample as: "the only fragrance with a synthesized human pheromone component. Only Realm adds that extra dimension of human pleasure." I thought there were more perfumes made with pheromones nowadays, but then maybe that sample is quite old. Anyway, Alicka61 was giving it away, and there was some lively debate as to who was the most deserving recipient. In the end it fell to me: as the eldest in our party I could use all the hormones I can lay my hands on at the moment. Realm for Women is a deep and disconcerting shade of orange and smells like a rich oriental of some description. Aha, just found the notes:

Notes: mandarin, water lily, sandalwood, vanilla and honey.

Well, as we know, some men are attracted to vanilla perfumes. So even if I don't particularly care to wear Realm (which has an annoyingly tingly spice in it somewhere), the addition of a synthesized human pheromone component may tip the opposite sex completely over the edge. Sometimes you have to suffer to be beautiful.

Up next - sniffing in Parfumerie Hyazinth...

Photo of Basel Marktplatz from switzerland-traveling.com, photo of Caldey Island Lavender from roullierwhite.com, photo of noble rot from Wikipedia, photo of Jil Sander Style from gimahot.de, photo of fig tree from figtrees.net, photo of Realm perfume from 99perfume.com, other photos my own

Manchester Airport Sniffing: Reviews Of Estée Lauder Sensuous Nude, Valentino Valentina & Versace Yellow Diamond

2011-11-01T11:34:00.049Z

The more I travel, the more I adjust my expectations of the duty free perfume ranges at airports. Birmingham, with its new Chanel Les Exclusifs concession, was a very pleasant exception to this, but mostly you see the same old mainstream brands. There's always a bargain display plonked right inside the entrance and featuring the drossier end of designer brands like Joop! and Escada, which you wouldn't ever wish to buy if the prices were in fact bargains, which they never are. They are simply 10% off their prevous levels of impudent robdoggery.

Then there are invariably a few sales assistants loitering with intent in a major thoroughfare between the perfume section and the adjacent fixtures of confectionery and alcohol. Before you can say "giant Toblerone ingot" you will have been intercepted - and if you are very unlucky - bludgeoned into trying Jimmy Choo. No, sorry, that was a previous trip.

This time round the big push seemed to be on Oh Lola! No Lola!, more like - keep that VIBRANT FLIRTATIOUS LIGHT HEARTED "effervescent raspberry" number in its disturbingy bendy and fetishistic Georgia O'Keeffe flacon far from me, please...

So where is this jaded diatribe leading, you may ask? So did I do any sniffing at Manchester airport or what?

Oh okay, just a bit...

ESTEE LAUDER SENSUOUS NUDE

Yes, I tried the new Sensuous Nude flanker at last, having scoped the Estée Lauder fixture for months now to no avail. It really surprised me, for it didn't conform to my expectations of a nude scent at all. I thought it would be like Stella Nude or Il Profvmo Nuda (that I came across in Vienna - mini-review here). You know, a silky whisper of a scent evocative of cold cream and flimsy lingerie.

But no, the overriding impression of Sensuous Nude was of a dark woody vibe or even perhaps some kind of burnt nut. Now as it happens, I did scoff 100g of hot chestnuts in Zurich the other day and can confirm that it wasn't that kind of nut, even if it had been properly cremated rather than just the shell getting a bit scorched in the process. And I don't think I mean popcorn, but definitely a nut. I'll say hazelnut for now, but I am not sure really. Let's see if the notes give us a clue:

Notes: bergamot, mandarin, black and pink pepper, jasmine petals and lily of the valley, coconut water and sweetened honey, sandalwood, vanilla, amber, heliotrope and woody notes

Well, all right, there is sandalwood and miscellaneous other woodiness, and two types of pepper - which my amateur nose might also read as "a bit woody" - and then there is coconut water, which is crucially related to a nut. Though it sounds more like those bottles of nutriceutical water Madonna and Gwynnie et al are wont to swig after a work out, as opposed to the truly burnt nuttiness I get from Sensuous Nude.

Anotherperfumeblog has a much more favourable take on Sensuous Nude, and I am beginning to think I missed a whole lot by only spraying on card, which of course is also related to wood, and may have amplified the overally woody/nutty vibe. So given that I own Sensuous and liked Sensuous Noir much more than I expected, I think this one deserves a more considered retrial.

VALENTINO VALENTINA

Valentino is a line I can mostly take or leave, though I have a bit of time for the original V, a pleasant casual scent with notes that include rose, something orangey, fig and amber. Their latest release is called Valentina and comes in a very, very pretty bottle. Taking its cue from the new Prada Candy bottle cap with integrated nozzle, Valentina also sprays out of its pea-shaped top. The bottle is unashamedly girly and fussily ornate and almost worth having for its ornamental value alone. Its colour scheme evokes Neapolitan ice cream: pink and white "ceramic" flowers are stuck on the side of the round glass bottle, while the top is black enamel. It reminds me vividly of the baroque cathedral I visited at the weekend in St Gallen, which was a veritable stucco frenzy.

Notes: Calabrian bergamot, white truffles from Alba, jasmine, orange blossom from Amalfi, tuberose, strawberry, wood notes, cedar, and amber.

Now Perfume Shrine has done a thorough review of Valentina here, so I will just add a few sketchy impressions - I have a sample of this so am able to try it on skin. And I will say right off the bat that it smells not unlike a wan, toned down version of Elie Saab that has been "white chocolatified". Valentina also has that utterly contemporary, slightly synthetic but well blended musky floral quality of Caroline Herrera 212, Jil Sander Style or CK Beauty, all of which I like and would probably like even more had I not come across the world of niche.

Valentina is slightly sweet, which might be the strawberry?, but not excessively so; I have to say that it is relentlessly mainstream in its overall vibe and doesn't live up to the artsy bottle. I see that the perfumers behind Valentina are Olivier Cresp (of Juniper Sling fame!) and Alberto Morillas, who is master of what I can best describe as the "fuzzy modern genre": Bvlgari Omnia Crystalline, the Kenzo Flowers, Armani Sensi - and I see he also did 212 - of which I had no idea till I just looked him up.

As Valentina wears on, the sweetness fades a little, and there is a definite Nestle's Milky Bar quality to it. For sometimes you don't want forbidding, high cocoa solid scents like SL Borneo 1834 - or even your poncy Green & Blacks or Hotel Chocolat slabs studded with goji berries and macadamia nuts - no, sometimes you just fancy the fragrance equivalent of bog standard white chocolate...and Valentina is a girly version of that. The scent gets progressively softer and more wispy, and the sweetness fades, but retains that creamy dessert quality throughout, faintly rounded out by the amber, like the crunchy toffee topping on a creme brulée.

VERSACE YELLOW DIAMOND

Let's face it, it is hard to take a fragrance line seriously when its bottles are adorned by tacky, outsize crystal pebbles like the top of a dolmen. The fact that Donatella Versace has been seriously tango'ed doesn't help matters either. Now before people leap to the defence of Versace's bottles, saying: "It's a diamond, not a crystal!" let me just clarify that I do know this really, having done studies in the diamond industry myself. However, if it was a real diamond it would be worth more than Manchester Airport cost to build. And between you and me, I think yellow diamonds are a bit naff, possibly because they look like less precious precious stones such as citrine, topaz (or the yellow topazes, anyway ; - ) ), and the rather wonderfully named "rutilated quartz". Curiously, I don't consider the brown variety - so-called "chocolate diamonds" - to be naff, and I wouldn't flick the deep blue Hope Diamond off the duvet either if it happened to land on my bed.

So enough of this gemstone snobbery, how does Yellow Diamond smell?

Notes: citron from diamante (is that a note, or a description of the top?), pear sorbet, bergamot, neroli, orange blossom, freesia, mimosa, nymphea, amber, palo santo (sounds like the location of a start up company in the Bay Area) wood and musk.

Well, I did smell this on card at least, and I got a very watery pear note, a bit of orange, and some powdery, vaguely sherbety mimosa. It didn't amount to much of anything though, and I am tempted to borrow Times Journalist Caitlin Moran's incomparable description of polenta as: "a certain amount of matter on a plate". Well, then that would make Yellow Diamond "a certain amount of fragrant matter on a paper strip". And I have just clocked that Yellow Diamond is also Alberto Morillas's work. Smells like the perfume equivalent of a "Friday afternoon car". No, that is unfair - he may have had an incredibly watered down, feebly fruity brief to fulfil. Moving on.

Yes, in closing I must just mention something that happened on the way out to Zurich. When announcing the imminent passage through the aisles of the duty free cart, the flight attendant said: "We do carry a wide selection of ladies' fragrances from brands such as Paco Rabanne and Calvin Klein." "We do carry?" Have you noticed that airline announcers always "do do" everything they do, as in: "We do know that you have a choice of airline, and we do thank you for choosing Cheapo Wings and we do hope to have the pleasure of your company on board again." But going back to the duty free selection, funny that Paco Rabanne and CK should be singled out for special mention. And take it from me, the in-flight duty free range was not chock full of bargains either...

And lastly, I will leave you with the new sexed up word for "cup-a-soup" I learnt from the Bistro Menu Card: "IN-CUP SOUP" - by analogy, we must infer, with in-line skating or in-store promotions. Sadly, a fellow passenger in my row quickly turned my "beverage" into "in-lap" and "on-trouser-leg" soup, as he clapped my table up in his haste to get to the toilet. whither I followed him shortly afterwards, to do some urgent in-toilet sponging.

Photo of Manchester airport from viewpictures.co.uk, photo of lily from projects.accessatlanta.com, photo of Sensuous Nude from fragrantica.com, photo of Madonna from oneresult.com, photo of Valentina from feelunique.com, photo of Milky Bar from goodtoknow.co.uk, photo of Versace Yellow Diamond from femaletrend.com, photo of Donatella Versace from people.famouswhy.com, photo of a dolmen from wikipedia.com, photo of cathedral my own.

Results Of The Bottega Veneta EDP Sample Giveaway!

2011-10-31T12:31:00.007Z

The deadline for the Bottega Veneta perfume giveaway has passed! And so, shortly after midday today, the draw for these two samples took place using my tried and tested method of the "Mr Bonkers Random Number Generator". This completely impartial method of winner selection works as follows: I wrote down the names of all the commenters who had expressed an interest in acquiring a sample of this scent and assigned them each a number. Then I asked Mr Bonkers (who obviously did not have sight of the list of names) to call out two random numbers within that range.

I have pleasure in announcing that the winners are:

NANCY (yes, he picked you!!)

and

LINDALOO (another deserving winner)

Could you please both drop me a line via Facebook or to flittersniffer@gmail.com over the course of the next few days to claim your prize? Let me have your address and I will pop your sample in the post without delay!

Photo from sniffapalooza.com

Bonkers Is Two This Week! (And Giving Away Two Samples of Bottega Veneta EDP)

2011-10-28T10:18:00.016+01:00

Yes, a quick look at the archives reveals that Tuesday 25th was the second anniversary of Bonkers about Perfume. When I tentatively wrote my very first post here, I little thought that there would be another 262 along to join it.

I had toyed with the idea of writing some kind of thoughtful retrospective piece to mark the occasion, but when Tuesday came I was mad busy getting tax stuff together for my accountant and packing to come away to Switzerland for a few days, so that idea went out the window - for the moment at least. So here I am instead three days later, writing this from a Starbuck’s in Basel, one of those rare establishments offering a uniquely appealing combination of tea made to my exacting prescription (because they leave you to make it yourself, basically) and complimentary Internet access. Actually, I haven’t quite trained the staff here to leave room for milk, but that is a small point.

Come to think of it, I did celebrate my second anniversary – though it wasn’t planned that way – by buying another fridge for my perfumes. A suitable one came up on Ebay last week within easy pick up distance, and I knew I had to move fast. Before I left I just had time to spread my collection between the two fridges in a very loose “summer / winter” sort of a way, and there was an audible sight of relief (no, not just the new fridge whirring, really) from the bottles as they found themselves with room to breathe – and to flex their bows and ribbons where applicable.

I will also celebrate the two year mark by offering a sample of Bottega Veneta (which I reviewed the other week) to two readers drawn at random out of suitable receptacle. Their names, I mean, not the readers themselves. And you can live anywhere to be eligible! Just leave a comment (with the exception of those persistent spammers on whose annoying account I have had to bring back the captcha rigmarole) to be entered in the draw, which will close at noon GMT on Monday 31st. A comment about anything really – why you are keen to try Bottega Veneta, what you would like to see on Bonkers in the coming year, whether you still don’t mind my not being as overtly interactive as other bloggers (now there’s a mouthful!), whether you would like to see a thoughtful retrospective at some point, haha - anything really.

Coming up next - airport sniffing and meeting the Swiss perfumistas (again!)

Photo of Bottega Veneta advertisement from fragrantica.com, other photo my own

The Travalo: Trending Travel Tackle aka More Things On Poles

2011-10-23T13:14:00.040+01:00

The Travalo seems to be everywhere these days. I hesitate to speak of it in the plural, because "Travalos" without an apostrophe sounds like a budget hotel chain (or its Greek equivalent). Now as some readers know, such is the vehemence of my opposition to the deployment of the grocer's apostrophe in plural nouns, as in: "it's raining cat's and dog's", that I will see how far I get without cracking and plumping for "Travalo's" after all. And while we are on the subject of grammar, I am not entirely comfortable with "trending" as a word, but it is a descriptor for topics on Twitter, so it is probably here to stay.

Back to the gizmo in question, a new take on the concept of a refillable perfume atomiser. Here is the description from the company's website:

•pocket sized perfume spray bottle that refills in seconds directly from a big fragrance spray bottle.
•no funnel, no spills, requires no skill
•over 65 sprays

As I observed at the top of the post, the Travalo seems to have taken the market by storm recently - in terms of its distribution at least - I can't speak for the sales side. I first came across one last May at Fascination perfumery - Lynn, the proprietor, let me sample Elie Saab from a pink Travalo she had filled up with the fragrance at the Esxence show in Milan. Then in the summer Penhaligon's kindly sent me 4ml of Juniper Sling in a pretty silver Travalo, and in between times I have spotted them by the till in various department stores and other perfume outlets, and also clocked ads for them in the duty free section of several in-flight magazines.

I have since invested in a pack of four of these refillable fragrance atomisers (there - I think I got away with it!), and plan to use them as travel-sized / purse sprays of a few of my favourite fragrances. For that is the first downside of the Travalo: you can't reuse it, any more than you can reuse a plastic or (I would argue), a glass atomiser. It will be impregnated with your chosen scent forever.

And unlike a conventional atomiser that you can unscrew to fill - such that if you had a number of smaller samples of a perfume you could consolidate them all in the one container - the Travalo only works with a full bottle of perfume. Consequently, when my Juniper Sling Travalo is empty, I can't top it up with my one remaining carded sample of the scent, because there is no way of opening the Travalo to pour the vial in.

No, the way the Travalo works is that it has a hole in the bottom, which you place over the "stem" - or "pole", as it seems to me - of the bottle's atomiser mechanism before pumping away to fill it. (Miraculously, the perfume doesn't then fall out of the hole again, which as far as I can tell is "open" at all times.) So basically, the Travalo is no better than any other pretty brushed metal atomiser except for the fact that you don't need a funnel to fill it. For a seasoned decanter this is no big deal, though I don't doubt that this is a major part of its appeal to the public at large.

As for the pumping action itself, it is straightforward enough. At the outset, I had doubts about whether all the bottles in my collection would really prove to have Travalo-friendly tops. I did my first "pumped decant" with a bottle of L'Agent (modelled below by Mr Bonkers) and that worked a treat. I knew it must also work with Penhaligon's bottles, of which I have four - though crucially not Juniper Sling - so if I want to reuse my Travalo of that I will have to bite the silver bullet it resembles and buy myself a full bottle for that specific purpose.

Right, so I will just go and take a random selection of bottles out of my fridge and report back which ones have "easily flirt-offable tops".

Well, I am happy to say that very nearly all of them passed the test, even Ajne Calypso, in its atypical Bohemian filigree bottle. The tip to remember is to be assertive and assume the top WILL come off. If you are a bit of a wimp about it you may find the top resists, as happened to me intially with one of the Jo Malones.

The only top to cock a complete snook at the Travalo mechanism was my humungous bottle of IUNX Eau Frappée, which - let's face it - is more light sabre or police truncheon than perfume bottle.

So that was a happy discovery, though so far I have still only filled up the pink one with L'Agent. For the most significant thing about the Travalo - given its relatively high unit cost versus a conventional atomiser bought in bulk - is not the mere fact that it is a handy travel format. No, the Travalo's key function is to force you to decide which scents really are your favourites, and worth dedicating one of these refillable sprays to.

Which may be why the other three are still empty.

Would be interested to hear people's thoughts on this apparent trend.

Have you taken the Travalo plunge?

If not, are you *pumped up* to try it?

If so, what scents did you consider "TW" or "Travalo Worthy"?

And do you own any bottle with a non-compliant atomiser mechanism like my IUNX?

Over time I am standing by to compile a list of Travalo Refusenik bottles on this post - though maybe the IUNX bottle was a case apart.

And finally, seeing as the stem of the atomiser sticking up reminds me of a little pole, here again are the other things of poles I saw on my travels lately.

Photo of Travelodge from www2.travelodge.co.uk, other photos my own.

How Do You Make Tom Ford Santal Blush? Slap On A Bit Of Jasmin Rouge...!

2011-10-20T13:59:00.061+01:00

Blink and you miss it.

You know how it is when people call you over to see a beautiful sunset (in this case, the view from my hotel room in Italy - the one with the rectangular toilet!), and by the time you get there the egg yolk orb of the sun is just dipping below the horizon, suffusing the sky with a delicate pink, which soon fades to grey? Well, I am sorry to say that that appears to be the problem with Tom Ford's new release, Santal Blush, of which I had the highest hopes, not least because of its evocative name. The choice of the French word "santal" is always a good start: two syllables are easier on the ear than the three in "sandalwood". Follow that with a wistful descriptor like "blush" and you've got a scent name dream team...

Then "Blush" is in fact the shade of wool I am knitting a cardigan with for a fumehead friend's baby; it also makes me think of pastel pink Cadbury's mini-eggs - and it is of course the colour of the scent itself! Hmm, thinking about that pink juice, you could be forgiven for mistaking Santal Blush for a high class Zinfandel - that's until you tried an experimental spritz down the old hatch. Which, after my incident with the 2.5ml glass atomiser, I wouldn't recommend.

So how does Santal Blush smell exactly and what's with the sunset analogy?

Notes: ylang ylang, cumin, cinnamon bark, carrot seed, jasmine, rose, cedarwood, Australian sandalwood, oud, musk and benzoin.

Okay, so for a full fifteen minutes, Santal Blush lived up to my expectations. The opening is woody in a faintly raw, packing-case-splinter kind of way, which is doubtless due to the cedar wood, which I always find more rufty tufty than the smooth operating sandalwood with which it is paired. I get a slight dusting of spice and something that I would characterise as vaguely "rosy". Thanks to my synaesthetic training at the Le Labo workship earlier this year, I can most definitely declare this smell to be pink!

On reflection, it's a bit like FM Portrait of a Lady for wimps. And it turns out there is also oud in there, though goodness knows the composition doesn't need any more types of wood - even the cinnamon is described as "bark"...; - ) The beleaguered rose note is woefully lacking in staying power and in no time at all it is like that disappearing sunset or some poor consumptive in a Bronte novel, fading away before your very nostrils.

I could also liken it to those "hint of" fruit drinks that are 99.3% carbonated water, but declare pomegranate and blueberry prominently on the label, which is - annoyingly - perfectly legal. I know, because I challenged Schweppes on this very point. But at least with those kind of drinks you can taste the ingredients in question at all times. In Santal Blush - in addition to this issue of the vanishing rose note - if ylang-ylang (a favourite note of mine) and jasmine did show up, I swear they were hiding behind a tree (and there's enough to chose from).

Which is such a shame, because in terms of its texture, once it gets going Santal Blush is as smooth as the drydown of Violet Blonde, if not smoother. And to achieve that whilst using not one but three woody notes, which can so easily veer into scratchiness in my experience, is quite masterly on the part of Yann Vasnier, the nose behind both fragrances.

Yes, I am afraid that apart from the first quarter of an hour, Santal Blush is merely a milky woody bass line, in need of a rosy melody. As well as being a bit like a pared down version of Portrait of a Lady, it also strikes me as a buffed up, sanded down version of Diptyque's Tam Dao (my original "trapped in a tea chest" scent), with a side order of cream.

Now I have gone on record many times as saying that no perfume could be too minimalist to appeal to me. "Send all your bland monotone scents in my direction", I have commented on blogs, "I'll give 'em a loving home." I am now going to have to eat my words, because there simply isn't enough going on with Santal Blush for me: the note pyramid is too bottom heavy, the rose too elusive and evanescent.

I am aware that it may well be my skin which is at fault, for I have a hunch that it amplifies wood notes to the exclusion of all else, especially cedar. In complete contrast, Octavian of 1000 Fragrances raves about Santal Blush, and his nose picks out all sorts of nuances and activity. I could easily believe that it is a combination of wayward skin and amateurish nose that prevents me from discerning the complexity of this fragrance, but that is just the way it goes!

So...in summary then, top marks for a flawlessly smooth foundation, but in my view Santal Blush seriously needs some colour in its cheeks to mitigate its woody pallor - now where's my pot of Bourjois?

Photo of Santal Blush from coolspotters.com, photo of Blush Eco Baby wool from modernknitting.co.uk, photo of Zinfandel from corkingwines.com, photo of model from Bourjois.co.uk, photo of blusher from montpellier-beauty.co.uk, sunset photo my own.

Tom Ford Violet Blonde Review: Violets And Fizzle - Without The Swizzel

2011-10-18T09:03:00.035+01:00

I have a fair bit of time for Tom Ford. What's not to like about a tall, dark, be-sunglassed man in a sharp suit? Or do I mean smooth? Simultaneously smooth and sharp, even. I also have time for some of his fragrances, though the Private Blends are horribly overpriced and tend to stray into "confusing Stella flanker" territory with their collection of musk scents and those ones with "oud" or "wood" or "bois" in the name - not forgetting the various "noir" things. It wouldn't surprise me to find an "Oud Wood Noir" in there too.

Now I did cop for a bottle of White Suede on Ebay, a steal at £50, and I'd happily pull a similar stunt on Neroli Portofino if the opportunity arose. I have yet to try Santal Blush, but the omens are good, not least because of its beguiling New-England-clapboard-house-paint-shade name.

The standard line is more affordable though, and had I not discovered Black Orchid Voile de Fleur so late in the day, I might have bought that one - you know, in an actual shop. As it is, I traded some Plum with Mals86 for a sizeable decant. I am still not sure about regular Black Orchid, though it gets brownie points for being one of the few perfumes to showcase Quorn.

Then White Patchouli is quite ghostly and atmospheric if a little high pitched, and of course we mustn't forget Velvet Gardenia, which deserves its own post if I ever get my hands on a sample again. I remember it as being a tour de force of loucheness and decay that evoked imagery of those dodgy "Eyes Wide Shut"-type parties in The Magus.

And the bottles in the standard range are also sleek and ultra-stylish. Simultaneously reminiscent of hand bells, salvage yard radiators and ribbed hot water bottles, they are beautiful and tactile, as I don't doubt Mr Ford would be if I were ever fortunate enough to get up that close. (To my chagrin, I missed his promotional appearance in Selfridges one time by just five minutes.)

So on to Violet Blonde... Here are the notes, for starters:

Notes: violet leaf absolute, orris, sambac jasmine, mandarin, pink peppercorn, benzoin, cedar wood, Haitian vetiver absolute, musk, suede leather.

On first applying Violet Blonde I got a strong burst of tingling iris, with violet just behind it, and I was not too sure initially where this was going to go and whether it would be for me. It reminded me of the slightly austere opening of 31 Rue Cambon, which is my least favourite part of that otherwise wonderful scent. It also made me think I should retry Annick Goutal Heure Exquise, as that was also ringing a small hand bell. There was a goodly amount of pepper, which may be a relative Johnny Come Lately in the grand scheme of perfumery notes, but feels like an old friend these days - or a friend you are forever bumping into in town, certainly.

Now the opening tingle must be due to the aldehydes, but they are not as pronounced as in Balenciaga Le Dix, which is the other fragrance that springs to mind if you say "violets" and "aldehydes" to me. Le Dix is like Violet Blonde doing a handstand, with all the aldehydes rushing to its head. I don't have a bottle of Violet Blonde yet, so will have to improvise with Le Dix instead. Let's see if I can coax my bottle to do a handstand too. Okay, we'll settle for the cheat's method in a deckchair, but you get the drift. Lovely as Le Dix is, it is way more of an aldehyde sneezefest to be much of an analogy. For me Le Dix is 80% fizz and 20% "violet and everything else" - and violet may not even be listed, but then again there are no aldheydes listed in Violet Blonde, but we'll pay no attention to that either. Violet Blonde, meanwhile, is 40-20% aldehydes and 60-80% "violet and everything else" (depending on when you catch it in its trajectory).

Apart from the creamy woods of the base, the jasmine is the only other thing I can detect, especially as the perfume wears on, and the drydown is spectacular. The texture becomes smooth as satin, and the violet-iris-jasmine trio is very quiet and heartbreakingly pretty. If I were to compare the vibe of the drydown to the beating of a bird's wing then it would have to be the gentle buzz of a humming bird. As opposed to what exactly?, you might well ask, as the needle on your Purple-prose-mograph gives a sudden lurch. Er...the raucous flap of a crow's wing?, I reply, clutching at metaphorical straws and racking my brain for a really loud violet scent. Insolence? One of those muddling "Aimez" ones from Caron? No, my mind's a blank. But anyway, let's skip the bird's wing analogy, violet-themed scent or not, and I'll just stick with smooth as satin for now; with the best will in the world it seems to be impossible to avoid cliches altogether.

Going back to the jasmine, it dominates the drydown for me, and has a juicy bite to it that is nicely counterbalanced by the primer (as in "more prim", as opposed to a basic textbook or that mysterious layer you are meant to put on under foundation) notes of violet and iris. I don't believe I have ever smelt a violet OR iris scent which is this smooth - maybe SL Bas de Soie, if you judge your moment, or Chanel La Pausa. To achieve that texture with both those potentially dusty/earthy/powdery notes in there is a masterstroke on the part of Yann Vasnier, whom I will forever associate with this scent now, along with his recent series of holiday snaps on Facebook. (At least I think that is what they were - everything flashes past so fast there...)

And what of the violets? In his own review of Violet Blonde, Candy Perfume Boy - who kindly thought to send me this sample - stated that the ones in this fragrance are not like those old-fashioned violet scents worn by the sort of grandma he wouldn't wish to have, namely "the dowdy kind that smells of Parma Violets". This got me thinking back to that childish "sweetie shop" style of violet associated with this retro confectionery line. I do find that the iris (in concert with the aldehydes, jasmine and the vetiver that I don't actually smell in its own right) manages to lift the violet note and makes it much more grown up and not remotely cloying or twee.

This talk of Parma Violets had piqued my curiosity now, so I had to go and buy a packet, didn't I, to see how they are today. Still made by Swizzels Matlow, in a factory tucked away in the heart of the Peak District, and costing a bargain 30p. They double up nicely as breath fresheners if, like me, you don't chew gum or care for the glacial blast of a Mint Imperial and its ilk.

Right, I am sucking on one now, and I have to say it is milder and less violet-y than I expected. Most confectionery - chocolate limes, wine gums, the chew formerly known as Opal Fruits etc - are now more outrageously artificial and strong-tasting these day, unless it is just my palate that has changed with age, though I don't think so. But I can report that Parma Violets today are not as sickly as I remember. That said, they don't resemble the violet note in Violet Blonde either, and still wouldn't be right for a perfume, but I think I have definitely found a successor to a TicTac, not to mention yet another Christmas list lemming...

PS If anyone knows of a violet scent with a rough, crow's wing-like feel to it, I would be glad to hear your suggestions!

Photo of Violet Blonde bottle from fragrantica.com, photo of Tom Ford from askmen.com, photo of bell from brosamersbells.com, photo of Parma violets from bestbritishsweets.co.uk, photo of hair model from hji.co.uk, Le Dix photo my own.

Bottega Veneta EDP Review: Cashmere Mist Goes To Finishing School

2011-10-16T10:18:00.055+01:00

Not long after "sudden onset perfume mania" struck in early 2008, I progressed from printing out sheaves of fragrance pyramids of individual scents from Osmoz to setting about acquiring samples to try. The very first of these was a twin pack of DKNY Delicious Night and Cashmere Mist. The steel wool and Ribena disaster that is the former nearly put me off my nascent hobby for ever, while the latter appealed to me primarily on account of the name. Back then, I wouldn't have been able to tell benzoin from a bento box or Benny Hill.

I wore the spray vial of Cashmere Mist on the first day of a long work trip, to meetings with shoe factories on the Dutch/German border. It was a grey, damp, mizzly kind of day that makes you feel cold to your bones, and the perfume acted as a cosy scarf. I shan't say cashmere, because it was a bit rougher than that - let's go with mohair for now, but that is really a bit too far along the scratchy spectrum.

Notes: bergamot, jasmine, lily of the valley, suede, sandalwood, vanilla, amber, musk and cashmere

And before long I discovered the swap scene, and thanks to lovethescents Cashmere Mist became my first full bottle of perfume (if you discount the seven year old bottle of EL Intuition, which had gone quietly rancid on my bedroom windowsill at some point between 2001 and 2008).

Fast forward three and a half years to the launch of Bottega Veneta EDP. I have now looked this house up and clocked that it is a luxury Italian brand of leather goods. I rather like the look of the ones with a basket weave effect. The name is a bit of a mouthful, mind. The word "Bottega" made me think of "bodega", which in turn makes me think of Spanish wine bars and that place in Northern California where they shot The Birds.

With mounting interest, I read Denyse of Grain de Musc's account of her visit to Paris to meet the perfumer, Michel Almairac, at the launch event - also attended by Katie Puckrik - and each subsequent review I have come across has served to fuel my anticipation further.

Katie sums up this scent in a tweet as: "a secret leather accord femmed up with jasmine". I realise that I am drawn to perfumes with a secret accord of any kind - it is becoming clear to me that I like a hint of mystery in a fragrance... It was Katie indeed who pointed out the secret leather accord in another recent love of mine, L'Agent by Agent Provocateur, and I am pleased to report that I have finally detected it! I'd say that Ormonde Jayne's Ta'if smells mysterious too, though I couldn't put my finger on why exactly. Secret date accord? Accord for a secret date, more like. : - )

Anyway, back to Bottega Veneta and its link to Cashmere Mist. Here is the leatherless note list:

Notes: "bergamot, pink pepper, jasmine, plum, patchouli, benzoin and oakmoss"

The overall vibe of Bottega Veneta is very soft and tender. It's quite rich and fruity initially - possibly the pepper and plum, or maybe even the patchouli? peeking through - but this fades fast. The benzoin gives it that vanillic, fuzzy aspect, but it is less fuzzy and more refined than in Cashmere Mist, which has a slightly synthetic feel if I am honest. Yes, this is Cashmere Mist that has gone to finishing school. The leather note in Bottega Veneta is suede-y rather than leathery, as Olfactoria also found, dubbing it "graceful suede". Cashmere Mist has suede too, but it is quite muted and I get more benzoin than leather of any kind.

Bottega Veneta is also reminiscent of Daim Blond, another fuzzy scent that was sadly raspy on me - in my review I described it as "suede-scented white noise". And then there is a peachy/apricoty note in Bottega Veneta which isn't in Cashmere Mist and which - dare I say it - makes me think of YSL Belle d'Opium. And that also ties back to Daim Blond, which is fuzzy, suede-y AND apricot-y, though not in a good way. And of course apricots have a slightly furry texture, and that is about the level of "nap" we are speaking of in Bottega Veneta.

Notes: "Leather, Iris, Apricot Kernel, Musk, Hawthorn, Jasmine, Cardamom, Heliotrope"

Crucially, there is no apricot or peach listed in Bottega Veneta, and I am struggling to spot the jasmine: it's plum, apricot, patchouli, suede and benzoin for me, but way smoother than those notes connote!

So anyway, between those three fragrances, I think I have covered off the other scents Bottega Veneta reminds me of...Okay, maybe also a teeny bit of Indult Isvaraya (jasmine, plum patchouli), but that is heavier and darker by comparison. Good winter choice, though, while Bottega Veneta fits this time of year perfectly.

In summary then, Bottega Veneta is a sophisticated Cashmere Mist with added fruit and a more pronounced suede note. So nothing like it then, I hear you cry, but it was an inspirational starting point, so that counts! I guess Bottega Veneta also deserves a more ethereal name, if DKNY's more mainstream offering gets one. Hmm, something like "Suede Mist", say. Yes, that is perfect.

The day I tried Bottega Veneta for the first time, I met up with a friend at pilates, who had stopped wearing perfume - distracted by the needs of her growing family - but is keen to experiment now. I surprised her with one of my carded samples (I bought a few, in lieu of a bottle), and she thanked me. "It's very soft and soothing", I said, "so I thought it might be a good place for you to start."

"Oh great!" she replied. "I've got a big day tomorrow, with loads of people coming to an event that I have organised. So I might just wear your perfume then, as I need to stay calm."

I inquired where this event was taking place, and it turned out to be IN A LEATHER MUSEUM...My friend could have just done with that nice statement bag and she'd have been all set.

As for me, given my well-documented penchant for all things quiet and understated, I feel as though I have "come home" with Bottega Veneta. It's early days of course, and I should factor in my Flittersniffer Flibbertygibbet persona, but Bottega Veneta may have all the credentials to be that alien construct of a signature scent, were I ever so self-denying as to assign myself such a thing. Yes, if any perfume could whip me into scent monogamy submission, this floral leather chypre might just be the one.

Photo of Bottega Veneta from the company's website, photo of Cashmere Mist from kissandmakeup.tv, photo of bag from purseblog.com, photo of gloves from sweetspot.ca, photo of gaiters from the leather museum's website.

Illuminum White Gardenia Petals Review: Update

2011-10-14T20:23:00.041+01:00

Back in early May, I reviewed Illuminum White Gardenia Petals, the perfume worn by the Duchess of Cambridge on her wedding day. My review was based on a carded sample supplied by Roullier White, the single UK stockist.

In July I received a complimentary bottle of White Gardenia Petals, and was startled and disappointed to find that it seemed to bear little or no resemblance to the sample I already owned. I enlisted the help of Olfactoria of Olfactoria's Travels, who had herself purchased a full bottle around the time of the wedding, and together we were able to compare old and new versions, and were both convinced that the two scents were not the same.

As a first step, I sent my bottle and the original sample back to Roullier White, asking them to investigate this curious discrepancy. The store referred my query to Illuminum's PR company, with whom I have kept in regular touch over the past few months. They agree that there is a clear difference between the two versions of the scent and inquiries into the matter are ongoing. So far the version reviewed by Olfactoria and me (and quite possibly by others) has been traced to a small production batch - the second one made.

So if the soapy, musky "demure white floral in a veil" which I reviewed here is not White Gardenia Petals, how does the correct version of the scent smell?

For reference, here are the notes again:

Notes: gardenia, lily, ylang ylang, muguet, jasmine, amber woods.

Well, I am sorry to report that on my skin official White Gardenia Petals is a sharper, greener, more metallic scent. I do detect a gardenia note in the opening, but it is not veiled and softened by powdery musk as is the case with my original sample. Instead, it comes off as a tad strident and indolic. The early sample of White Gardenia Petals sits on my wrist like a muzzy, soapy cloud with a pretty floral bouquet at its heart, while the correct version of White Gardenia Petals feels more sheer and airy somehow. I see a slight crossover with Annick Goutal's Un Matin d'Orage, but it does not share that scent's limpid, dewy facet, and is at times reminiscent of a functional fragrance like fabric softener. Of the two, I will say that the correct version of White Gardenia Petals smells more like gardenias, possibly because the floral notes are not hidden behind a musky haze, or maybe because there weren't any gardenias in the erroneous batch of this scent anyway. Time will perhaps tell, but meanwhile I just wanted to draw readers' attention to the fact that my review - like that of Olfactoria - is based on the same fragrance, which is not, however, the official version of White Gardenia Petals available to buy today.

Photo of The Duchess of Cambridge from rumahaini.com, photo of gardenias from mgonline.com