Favourite - and least favourite - perfume *bottles* in your collection

 

This is a blog post theme with which I have been toying for some time. I have seen features discussing which perfume bottles on the market people consider to be the most beautiful - or the least attractive - but decided to confine the question to bottles I own. Within this finite category I would venture to say that aesthetic considerations have come into my acquisition decisions down the years, but not to any great extent.

So I had a little rummage in the several boxes housing my collection, and started to draw up a list of possible candidates for either title.

Before going any further, I should mention that the twin pack of flacons above are not mine, but rather are from the little perfume museum in Barcelona I have in fact visited (though I can't say I remember them, as there were so many strange and wonderful specimens to take in). The set belonged to Marie Antoinette no less, and is therefore quite long in the tooth. In view of the unfortunate fate of their owner, we should perhaps be impressed they managed to keep their tops all these years...!

 

For the most beautiful bottle, I initially thought of going with this 15ml bottle-ette of Calypso from natural perfumery Ajne in California. It is one of the smallest perfume receptacles that could feasibly be counted as full-sized, as well as being the most expensive I have ever bought. I reviewed the scent in question many years ago here, and am pleased to report that I still have some of this sultry tropical number left, and that it hasn't turned. The problem with the bottle is - if I am perfectly honest - that the metal filigree work is tacky and cheap-looking: the gold is too gold, if you know what I mean, while silver - or any silverish alloy for that matter - would have been more refined. It is so easy to get gold-type metals wrong. See how much better this cheap tea light holder looks next to it? Hmm...actually, the gold filigree doesn't look too bad in my photo, but trust me that it does in real life - and light!

 

Source: amara.com

Indeed I made that very mistake again recently with some make up bags and purses from a company called Elizabeth Scarlett. Several people reading this so nearly got one for Christmas(!), but luckily for them I sent the whole lot back due to the cheap and gaudy-looking fastenings - and made sure to tell the company so. Actually, the pouches were also very creased, and even though I have greatly relaxed my high ironing standards during lockdown, the extremely wrinkly state of the fabric was troubling. Which is a shame as the designs were gorgeous. So yes, it only takes a little slip on one aspect of a product's design to compromise the whole shebang. Going back to Calypso, it also didn't make the cut because its spray mechanism has given up the ghost, so you have to unscrew the whole caboodle and anoint yourself with the rather sharp and pointy end of the little white tube-y thing. Meaning Calypso is out of the frame on two counts. And I swear I am not dismissing it because I felt the shop in Carmel stood me up when I tried to visit. ;)

Now there was a clue to my favourite bottle in the image above of the Elizabeth Scarlett pouch, which has quite fortuitously been styled next to a (bizarrely empty) Annick Goutal bottle. I own three AG perfumes: Grand Amour, Le Chevrefeuille, and Songes, and the prettiest of all is....Le Chevrefeuille! How much do I love that egg yolk yellow ribbon, which nicely sets off the elegant fluted oval-shaped bottle. It is not unlike a boiled egg that has been given a good hard squeeze, something I daresay we Brits are all looking forward to come June, hehe.

 

Then honourable mention should go to DKNY Gold, even though my bottle is scratched and battered.

 

I love its 'beaten' gold panels (in an acceptable shade of gold ;) ) and chunky square wooden top, with a soupcon of a nod toward Brutalist architecture.

Source: news.artnet.com

And what about my least favourite? Well, there was a lively jockeying for position amongst the shortlist: a hot contender was the overblown and space-guzzling Oscar de la Renta, with its floral excrescence of a top, which makes it difficult to store. It is such an awkward beggar in fact that it also refuses to have its image rotated.

 

Then I do like the graceful arch of my Flower by Kenzo Oriental, but it towers above the other bottles, and invariably ends up lying on top of them like a stagediving pop star. But no, the accolade of 'least favourite' has to go to Olfactive Studio's Lumiere Blanche. What a plain, functional, dull, rectangular non-entity it is! I have seen more seductive half bottles of cheap vodka or maple syrup. 

 

Plus my olive oil bottles are all without exception more winsome than this lumpen thing. In the spirit of full disclosure, I must say I didn't actually buy the Lumiere Blanche - it was a kind hand-me-down from a fellow fumehead. And I speculate that my aesthetic sense would have been sufficiently offended to have put me off a purchase even if I had been lusting after the scent. Which is saying something, because the juice usually trumps all.

Finally, another pic of the winner, topped off by its bright and luxuriantly bouffant bow! Spring is not quite here, but how cheering is this sight?

 

And now I would be interested to hear about your own bottle awards, based on your personal perfume wardrobe.

 

(Photo of perfume bottles at the top of the post from Wikimedia Commons via Marta Muntada Artiles; photo of palmier pouch from amara.com; photo of church in Berlin from art.news.com - other photos my own)

My Funny Valentine's Days, And Rose Scents For Rebels & Singletons

For the longest time, I used to receive two cards on Valentine's Day: one from Mr Bonkers and one from the cat. Then last year I left Mr Bonkers and put the cat to sleep, so realistically I have only myself to blame for the conspicuous lack of cards this year.

Historically, I have always been pretty into Valentine's Day as a celebration - well, more on the card sending than the dining in overpriced restaurants front to be fair. Indeed, I am not sure that a boyfriend has ever taken me out for a meal on Valentine's Day itself. And if they had volunteered, I would probably have told them to save their money. Same script with flowers really. Mr Bonkers did once send me roses on the day - in 1996 it was. He was in Switzerland at the time, playing with a blues band in one of the classier ski resorts. What he didn't know, however, was that I wasn't around to receive them, because on a whim I had decided to surprise him by flying out to join him for the Valentine's weekend. This involved one terrifyingly bumpy plane that nearly didn't take off at all - on which the stewardesses remained strapped to their seats throughout the journey - followed by three trains, before I toiled the final mile or so up a steep hill in a blizzard. I must have looked like Scott of the Antarctic crossed with a yeti when I finally walked into the foyer of Mr B's hotel on the Friday afternoon, dripping and covered in snowflakes. I explained who I was to the receptionist, who lured Mr B down from his room by saying that a fax had arrived for him ... (How impossibly quaint that sounds now!).

I guess that as someone who likes to write, Valentine's cards have been a constant theme of my romantic past.   When I was about 13 I wrote a love poem in Latin, and sent it in a card to a boy I had met on holiday the previous year - I may even have signed it.  Not surprisingly, I never heard from him again.

Other odd Valentine's Days I recall include the one where I had just had all my wisdom teeth out: I was so beaten up-looking, with a black eye, sundry other bruises and a beak like a budgerigar, that my BF walked straight past the bed and out of the ward, never to return. I was so unrecognisable he thought he'd got the wrong hospital.  For some reason he never thought to check.

But what of today? Well, I think I shall keep my head down and ride out the annual onslaught of rose petal-bedecked tablecloths, tasteless teddies and saccharine greetings.   I shan't be taking up the special offer at my local Indian, for example, even though the headline price of £12.95 for four courses caught my eye. Though hold on a minute - since when has rice or nan constituted "a course"?

Another Valentine's advert that made me smile was from a breakdown cover company, entitled: "Use your car as part of the romantic day". Apparently the way to a woman's heart is through a full tank of fuel and a dusted dashboard.

"For the best chance of charming your partner this Valentine's Day, GEM advises on beginning under the bonnet". (I think they are still speaking of the car at this point.)

"They say love is blind, but make sure visibility is 100% when it comes to the car windows."

Other tips for romancing your loved one include:

"Make sure oil and washer fluid levels are topped up"

"Clear out clutter from the interior"

"Add sweet smelling air freshener" (not sure about this one, or only under strict supervision)

The article concludes with a flourish:

"Offering a pleasant and romantic environment from the very start could mean the beginning of a beautiful journey together, rather than the end of the road for you and your partner".

Well, it is food for thought. Perhaps romance IS found after all in an empty ashtray and a hoovered floor mat.

Which rather long and rambling preamble brings me finally to my own scent choice for Valentine's Day. For a singleton like me with a bit of a rebellious streak it should combine a nod towards convention (so rose to the fore), but with a hint of mischief. I think the sprightly and spiky L'Artisan Safran Troublant might hit the spot, or Juliette Has A Gun Lady Vengeance - if I hadn't given away my sample. Or maybe Agent Provocateur Strip with its unexpected geranium note, though the name is a little tacky. Kenzo Amour Indian Holi is another contender - it is girly and flirty with lashings of pepper, just the way I like it. Or its darker patch-fest cousin, Flower Oriental. Or I could simply default to one of my favourite offbeat gourmand roses, Brulure de Rose, thereby covering off the traditional chocolate note associated with such occasions... : - )  Now I am sure there are way more kickass "rebel rose"-type perfumes out there than I have suggested, but as regular readers know, I mainly like accessible, fairly mimsy scents, so there was always going to have to be a bit of stylistic compromise here!

What scent are you going with today, and does it reflect your own take on the whole Valentine's Day shebang...which is what?

Did you ever pull a romantic Valentine's Day stunt like my Swiss escapade?

And I would be curious to learn if anyone has actually received a Valentine's gift of perfume. That would be the very ticket... and with any luck, something to keep in your nice clean glove compartment... ; - )


Photos of hearts on a blue and white background, metallic hearts and hearts on trees from Wikimedia Commons via Renata Kincaid, Hans Jorn Storgaard Andersen and johntex respectively, photo of L'Artisan Safran Troublant from rougecoromandel.ch, photo of dessert and of light display in Portugal my own

Carner Barcelona Rima XI Review: Misty Over You - With Both Rhyme And Good Reason

Carner Barcelona is a perfume house that first came to my attention thanks to its brooding, spicy iris scent, D600, reviewed here. Well, I'd say it manages to be brooding and upbeat if that is possible, and the Carner website does describe it as inspired by "the urban lifestyle and the Mediterranean spirit of Barcelona", with an added "touch of mystery". Now that I have walked up and down the bustling thoroughfare of La Rambla for myself, I can relate to the tie-in between D600 and the rhythm of Barcelona's daily life, with its kaleidoscope of sights, sounds and scents.

I have also tested the other perfumes in the Carner stable, namely Tardes, Cuirs and Rima XI. Tardes was a bit heavy on the almond for my (admittedly almond- and heliotrope-averse) tastes and reminded me a bit of Miller Harris Fleur Oriental, with which I never got on; Cuirs was too leather-forward, though it can hardly be blamed for that, while Rima XI - a sample of which has just arrived from the Carner press office in response to my request - is Another Matter Entirely. I tried it briefly on skin during my recent trip to Spain, and have been giving it my undivided attention today.

Rima XI was created by Sara Carner in collaboration with Sonia Constant, the perfumer behind Cuirs. In my opinion, Rima XI tops D600 for mystery. It is much lighter and more attenuated. Woody orientals are my favourite category of oriental, and this may turn out to be my favourite of them all, because it has been given that wan, wistful treatment I so admire in a scent, which is a pretty nifty stunt to pull on a fragrance with a fair few spices in it.

Top notes:
Guatemalan Cardamom, Madagascan Black Pepper, Moroccan Nanah Mint, Saffron

Mid notes:
Ceylon Cinnamon, Indonesian Nutmeg, Indian Jasmine Sambac, Coriander

Base notes:
Virginian Cedar Wood, Australian Sandal Wood, Madagascan Vanilla Absolute, Benzoin from Laos, Soft Amber, Musk

If you like DKNY Black Cashmere, but wish it could be more vanillic and less austere, if you like Penhaligon's Elixir but find it a wee bit arid and dusty, or Kenzo's Flower Oriental but you are not always in the mood for such an in-your-face whallop of patchouli, this could be the spicy oriental for you.

Rima XI is a gauzy web of spices backlit by a soft, sheer glow. It is pale and interesting, with a warm hum from its amber and vanilla base. It should be worn by heroines of romantic novels draped languidly on chaises longues, though never in a dead faint. I am so affected by the wan yet robust beauty of Rima XI that I feel myself most uncharacteristically waxing lyrical, turning purple and generally coming over all Mills & Boon.

Which is my cue to introduce the background to the perfume, a much finer work of literature by one Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer, a postromantic writer most famous for his anthology of poems and stories called the Rimas & Leyendas (Rhymes & Legends). The scent takes its name from poem No XI. So just in case you were asking yourself: "Does it go up to eleven?", the collection most certainly does, and well beyond in fact. But we won't go there, not least because No XII appears to be a bit rude (in a Georgia O'Keeffe kind of a way, if you know what I mean...)!

And it is a single verse of Rima XI the rhyme which Carner cites as the inspiration behind Rima XI the perfume. I shan't include the original Spanish, but it is readily google-able for any Hispanic speakers reading who would prefer to appreciate the original text. That said, even my fairly remedial Spanish can confirm that it is a pretty literal rendering, with little if any of the atmosphere or emotional charge lost in translation.

"I am a dream, an impossible
vain ghost of mist and light
I am bodiless, I am untouchable
I cannot love you.
Oh come, you come?!"

On its website Carner also provides a summary of the ethos of the perfume - it could relate equally to the will-o-the-wisp scent itself or the siren-like charm of its wearer:

"Mysterious and sensual, with a hidden power of destruction under her radiant innocence, captivating and unforgettable, impossible to conquer..."

So as with D600, Rima XI is intended to be a double-edged fragrance, with a darker side to its beauty, presumably because the woman in question - though feel free to subsitute a Lorelei-type man if you prefer (I'm sure we all have one in our cupboard of crushes, even if it is only the ghost of David Cassidy, and I've got him as well : - ) ) - is emotionally unavailable. Hey, those are some of the best relationships - you don't stand to get hurt if the unrequited goalposts are clearly established at the outset!

Now to be honest I don't really get this undercurrent in Rima XI - it is just plain beautiful to me, with no kind of "iron fist in a velvet glove" vibe going on. D600 is more edgy in that way in my view. At the end of the day, Rima XI is a delicately nuanced, barely there, warm caress of spices on my skin. Yep, it's the Bonkers-friendly Woody Oriental scent from Central Casting, and my latest heartbreaker of a lemming...


Photo of Rima XI from pinterest.com, photo of male siren from mangaslife.centerblog.net, photo of G A Bécquer from Wikipedia, "The Ghost Of A Skeleton" photo of Brighton West Pier from Wikimedia Commons via Robin Webster