The Isabel Trail: a spontaneously circuitous sillage-seeking cycle ride

Source: visitstafford.org

There's no more news to report of the war on Tootsie...well, other than the fact that I have swapped the positions of Truffle's water and food bowls around - so the food bowl is now by the entrance to the dining room, and hence that bit further for an incorrigible cat burglar to venture in pursuit of kibble contraband. Truffle seems mightily perplexed by the switch, and has taken to staking out her water bowl, lounging pointedly just in front of it and shooting me disapproving glances over one shoulder, even as I crouch a few feet away, rattling the contents of her newly relocated food station. Oh, and I also had occasion to chase Tootsie out of the garden and down the service road by the side of my house at 2.20am on Saturday morning, Anti-Cat in hand. He hunkered down under a white van for a while, before sprinting towards a garden wall on his own street and leaping over it to safety, so nary a squirt was fired. If there are any major developments, however, I will be sure to report back!

Source: Stafford Borough Council

Meanwhile, I have decided to get off my backside this summer and do some exercise. No, really. I know I include some variant of the 'exercise more!' imperative in my New Year's post with monotonous regularity - albeit it was couched as generating 'teeming neurons' this year - but you may be sure it is the  same hoary old resolution chestnut that is safe to disregard, just as I do. But a July resolution smacks of something more serious. Various things have conspired to make me feel like shaking a leg a bit more: I had my bike fixed recently, which set me back £75 for a new tyre and two inner tubes, so I feel I should get my money's worth from that repair; also Val the Cookie Queen of APJ has been bigging up the health benefits of squats recently, such that I have even started to do some sets every time I reheat my tea in the microwave (which is quite often!). Then on Sunday I also happened to take some promo photos of ex-Mr Bonkers, posing with a new gig bag he's bought - they are to be included in his application to the manufacturer to be one of their product 'endorsers'. As a thank you he offered to give me back the home gym I had given him some 17 years ago(!), which he has not used in all that time. I had in fact been thinking lately that even though I barely do exercise of any kind myself at the moment - apart from a fairly fitful attendance at a Pilates class - I do even less of anything resembling weight training, so I jumped at his offer.

Source: productreview.com.au

With all these good intentions whirring round in my brain, I leapt out of bed this morning and got dressed to go for a jog. Only to find that the soles of both my trainers were hanging off and will need professional gluing by a cobbler. Okay, it's a bike ride then! Accordingly, I found myself uncharacteristically cycling the length and length (it's not very broad) of the Isabel Trail, a cycle path that weaves its way between the industrial estates of Stafford, from the northern perimeter of the town down to somewhere south of the middle. The path is overhung in places by a canopy of trees, and if it weren't for the intermittent cacophony of industrial noises emanating from factory units left and right, you could easily fancy yourself in the country!

Source: Google Sites

Occasionally I would overtake a jogger, or a walker on the path, including at one point a mature lady dressed in what I took to be the uniform of the Royal Voluntary Service, though I wouldn't swear to that. She wore a bottle green skirt and a button down white blouse, topped off with a lanyard, and seemed set on walking to the very end of the path. As I went up and down the trail, revelling in the faux-rural feel in the midst of an urban area, I passed this lady from both directions, When I came up from behind I could distinctly smell her perfume, though not when I cycled past her going the other way. Intrigued by her pleasantly powdery sillage, I made a point of cycling up and down even more(!) to catch further whiffs of whatever it was she was wearing. Eventually, it struck me that she might be a little alarmed by my repeated overtaking manoeuvres, so I decided to come clean the next time I approached, and ask her straight out what she was wearing.

A little side path I also rode down ~ Source: Jim Fogarty

"Kenzo Flowers!" the lady replied cheerily, to which I replied that I had the Oriental version, and that she smelt lovely in the original. "What a good start to a Monday!" I added, as much to apologise for my weird stalking as to compliment her on her choice of scent. She beamed back at me, and I was glad we had had that little exchange: my curiosity was satisfied and her morale boosted, or so it seemed - in short a win-win, as they say.

Once home, I went straight to the cupboard under the stairs and fished out my vial of Flower by Kenzo (to give it its official name) from a little plastic bag where it has been languishing for all of 8 years at a guess. I sprayed it on, and whilst I still prefer its darker and more edgy Oriental sibling, I can see why Tania Sanchez gave it a generous four stars, and why my go-to review resource of Bois de Jasmin (from whom I have pinched the notes) upped that to five.

Notes: "Wild hawthorn, Bulgarian rose, Parma violet, cassia, hedione, cyclosal, opoponax, white musk, vanilla."

In her review, Tania Sanchez mentions how Luca Turin spotted the striking resemblance between Flower by Kenzo and Caron's Royal Bain de Champagne, the bubble bath version of which I was kindly given by my friend Rachael Potts. I can totally see that connection, albeit Flower has more overt notes of rose and violet as far as I can recall, spiked with shafts of jasmine, like the sun dappling the path this morning through the tangle of trees. But that whole tender, expansive, vanilla / opoponax baby powder thing?...both scents have got it going on big style.

What is also interesting about this morning's events, apart from the Caron similarity which had hitherto passed me by, and for which I have the lady in green indirectly to thank, is that I could immediately visualise in which little polythene bag in which box my sample was lurking, even though I hadn't gone near it in years. Which got me wondering if anyone else reckons they have a photographic memory of their collection. I must say I surprised myself that I could drill down to the very plastic bag in question!

So...getting a bit of fresh air and exercise, and bonding with a Kenzo scent whose charms I had largely overlooked, was indeed a great way to kick off the week. I even sat at my desk with my feet on a spiky massage ball for a bit this morning.

Wherever will it all end? Doubled up in bed groaning? Yes, maybe...!

Diss your worst! Share your scent slur similes in a perfume putdown throwdown. (Featuring a 'subject to availability' fragrance flingaway, and other prize options)

Photo by Tom Haroldson of MLive.com - just add creosote

I love a good perfume simile - or metaphor for that matter. I don't stand on figure of speech ceremony, me. And I'll be honest that I sometimes enjoy the negative imagery more than the positive, even though there is less of it about. Not least because there are still lots of hackneyed tropes flying about the blogosphere like the dreaded 'cosy as a cashmere stole', for which I keep meaning to start a swear box. With 'sitting on my pipe-smoking grandfather's knee' and 'billowing fresh laundry on the line' following closely behind. With and without accents of mown grass and roses growing round the back door. Of the grandfather's house, indeed. There is arguably mileage in a whole post devoted to perfume writing cliches, but that is for another time.

There isn't that much negativity in perfume reviews, as I say, people in our community being by and large of the 'if you can't think of anything nice to blog, don't blog anything' persuasion, to slightly adapt all our mothers' adage for these social media-savvy times. I will qualify that though. I don't like swingeing critiques of perfumes from smaller houses, as they feel more personal somehow, a bit like mugging your neighbour and nicking their wallet rather than shoplifting in T K Maxx, if you get my drift - or not taking back the extra fiver you were mistakenly given in your change in John Lewis. Not that I would condone these activities either, obviously. So in my view there is a time and a place - and a sliding scale of appropriate targets - for wicked perfume putdowns.

Luca Turin is of course the master of these, though he has occasionally strayed into 'neighbour mugging' territory, most controversially in his dissing of Mona di Orio's original range. There is still much to savour in 'Perfumes: The Guide' without feeling you are rubbernecking at said mugging. Also, I would contend, if you disagree with his views, as I frequently do.

Two of my all-time favourite quotes from The Guide have to be:

"Like getting lemon juice in a paper cut" (Caroline Herrera 212)

Why, I don't mind this one at all!

"Powerfully cloying and nauseating. Trails for miles. Frightens horses. Gets worse." (EL Spellbound)

Ooh, I totally agree with him here, also his sub-heading for that one of "medicated treacle".

Then I am sure Turin had another corker about a perfume that smelt of molten plastic bottles floating down river, but I am blowed if I can find it.

I was actually moved to write this post by a chance comment of my brother's on Facebook the other day. He was reporting on a dream he'd had, in which someone was offended by another person's perfume, likening it to "last Friday night's spectacle cleaner". Now I know the subconscious is noted for its kaleidoscopically random firings, but the originality of this phrase is as startling as it is enigmatic. I don't know about you, but I tend to clean my glasses with a little slippery cloth from Sunglass Hut et al. What are these pungent cleaning products on which I am missing out? And is Friday night typically a time to make whoopee, as it were, with one's spectacle cleaning regime? And how long ago was Friday, in this particular instance? Also, does spectacle cleaner have a poor shelf life such that once opened, it deteriorates at an alarming rate - like flat tonic water, the dreaded occupational hazard of committed gin drinkers, only smellier? Who would have thought five words could be so gloriously baffling?

Source: Boots

Then I thought back to some of my own perfume putdowns - mostly (but not all) from back when I was VM I hate civet on Basenotes eight years ago or so, and lived in terror of any scent that was remotely animalic or overly spicy. For the record, I don't suppose I would still endorse these images, but they will serve to get the ball rolling.

"Sticks of celery coyly peeping over a freshly creosoted fence" (LesNez The Unicorn Spell)

"Like being trapped in a tea chest" (SL Tam Dao)

"Vintage embalming fluid" (Dioressence)

"Tuberose fright wig" (Givenchy Amarige) I stand by this one!

So today's 'Hunting the Snark' challenge is: hit me with your favourite perfume putdowns - your own, or favourite ones by other writers.

Then after the customary time has elapsed - say a week from today - I will hold a draw from those who have entered, and offer the winner a choice of prize:

- Cite a perfume that is a pet dislike of yours, and if I happen to have any of it in the house, I will ceremoniously throw away a sample of it in your name(!). ;)

- OR I will send the sample to a friend of your choice who you think might like it. Not out of mischief, obviously.

- OR I will consult with the winner as to their favourite styles / houses, and devise a decant prize that would appeal.

- OR (for anyone who has enough perfume in their life) there is the option of a notebook in which to record your perfume wearings / musings / smart one-liners!

NB I will gladly ship within the UK, while Undina of Undina's Looking Glass has kindly offered to post the winner's item within the US, thanks to the good offices of an associate who regularly shuttles across the pond. It might delay the delivery a little until we can coordinate with his next visit to England, but it won't get me into trouble with the customs authorities again.

And I would also be most interested to hear whether you think there is enough negativity / frankness in perfume reviews - or too much - and/or whether it is more about how the criticism is conveyed rather than whether or not a negative view is expressed. Though wishy-washy comments like: "It doesn't work on my skin, sadly" (of which I am as guilty as the next man) are surely the equivalent of having your boyfriend break up with you by saying: "It's not you, it's me", or "You will make some guy very happy one day".

Source: Fragrantica

Editor's note: I happen to agree with LT's assessment of Mona di Orio's Nuit Noire - or I did in my civet-averse days at least. I even had a pop at it myself, so I will put my hand up and say that I am by no means squeaky clean myself on the mugging front. By way of defence, my main issue at the time was with the amount of the scent with which I was forcibly sprayed by the sales assistant, though I suspect I wouldn't have cared for it back then anyway.  I really like a number of her later creations, mind, notably Tubereuse, Musc and Vanille.

Luca Turin hosts Saturday Classics on BBC Radio 3, presenting a selection of music that conjures up some of his favourite scents

Quick interim post to pass on a tip off I received last night from my friend Jessica - she of the apparently still ongoing rose scent quest! - about a marvellous two hour programme on BBC Radio 3. It was on air yesterday afternoon, but is still available online for 28 days at the time of writing. Luca Turin hosts the entire programme, talking about some of his favourite scents and playing pieces of music which capture the essence / structure / character / 'timbre' of each, including quite a few I had never heard of, or had no clue as to what they were like, such as Diorama. To be truthful, I couldn't quite make out the names of one or two, and he didn't always cite the perfume house concerned, so if anyone was able to compile a complete list of the fragrances covered, I would be most interested to see it!

Oh, and being Radio 3, the music featured is mostly classical, and as well as enjoying Luca Turin's eloquent commentary on the link between each scent and its paired piece of music, I am indebted to him for introducing me to the stirring composition Lento, by Howard Skempton. I was also pleased to see contemporary jazz guitarist Ralph Towner on his playlist, who was part of my musical education during my time with Mr Bonkers, and whom I have even seen in concert once!

I must admit I skipped through some of the classical pieces, as they weren't quite my thing, but I can't recommend the broadcast highly enough for Luca Turin's fascinating descriptions of his chosen perfumes.

Here is the link - catch it while (and if!) you can:

Luca Turin hosts Saturday Classics on Radio 3

Apologies for the fact that I can't seem to embed the link in a directly clickable way - I just did a screenshot of my computer as a rather poor second!

However, I can give you a link to Lento, which is something. Blow me if I can't recall which perfume was associated with it - all the more reason to listen to the programme again, which I was minded to do anyway...;)

Beyond Hate: By Kilian Beyond Love, Prohibited, and my Love and Tears Janus moment!

Source: Hayley Armagost on Pinterest

Hate...it's a strong word. There are very few people in the world, if any, whom I would say I have ever hated. Oh, maybe the former colleague who slammed the door in my face after I had pulled an all-nighter at the office. I'd been editing a report that was chock full of someone else's typos, for which I took the rap, even though the person in question was knocking on thirty at the time and perfectly capable of proofing his own work. So yes, I probably wouldn't rush to meet her again.

As for my reaction to the By Kilian line, every blogger who has ever posted about their perfumes has probably had a comment from yours truly bemoaning the headache-inducing 'house fug acccord' that killed this range for me. Liaisons Dangereuses - which I would liken to Poison for the Noughties - was the worst offender, but I remember having 'fug issues' during my brief encounters with Love, Beyond Love and one or two others. Interestingly, I have experienced no such problem with later releases, such as Love and Tears or Sweet Redemption, to name but two, so I can only assume it is a stylistic hallmark of the early years. By a similar token, the early Mona di Orios were all kinds of wrong on  me - I still shudder at the memory of my Nuit Noire 'necklacing' incident - but I went on to love several of the Nombres d'Or collection.

The other slightly annoying thing about this brand - apart from the price and the preposterous promo shots of a snake-draped Kilian Hennessey - is the opaque packaging. Very unhelpful for anyone attempting to sell a partial bottle at a later date. Though props to the brand for its tassles. Yet overall I have largely tuned out to By Kilian, and though I was recently in Augsburg, where the niche perfumery Naegele has a whole wall devoted to the line, I didn't make any effort to go there this time - and didn't even point it out to Val, though we passed close by. 'Friends before perfume'...? Well, before By Kilian perfume, for sure.

NO, IT ISN'T!!!!

But two things happened recently to prompt me to revisit this brand. Firstly, not so long ago, Tara was sending me some bits and bobs, and enclosed a packet of my own By Kilian samples which I vaguely remembered having given to someone. Not to Tara, as it transpired, but to Holly Cranmer at the time of her visit in August, and now she was giving them back, having presumably also had a poor hit rate with the line. So for a while the little bag of vials, with their distinctive calligraphic script, sat on my desk, awaiting transferral to long term storage / purgatory. But before I got round to doing that, a chance reference to the tuberose note in Carnal Flower during the German tour - which was greeted by a chorus of 'Oh, tuberose, that's a nice scent' - made me think to tentatively retry the (to me, still) very scary tuberose perfume in the By Kilian stable, Beyond Love, Prohibited.

Source: havenessence.com

And guess what? It wasn't scary. There was no discernable fug. No headache ensued. But rather, I fell hard for this heady, coconut-tinged, almost gourmand tuberose soliflore, which Luca Turin dubbed 'tuberose tuberose' in Perfumes The Guide, citing it as the greatest example of the note.

"Calice Becker has composed a straight-up tuberose using the best absolute from India, with touches of other notes (magnolia iris) used only to narrow the gap between the extract and the fresh flower. The result is the best tuberose soliflore on earth."

Notes: coconut accord, Egyptian jasmine absolute, tuberose concrete, tuberose absolute, green tuberose, tuberose petals accord, ambergris, tonkin musk.

Um...would you like a side of tuberose with that? ;)

Source: vroma.org

Yes, it was creamy, in an oozing patisserie kind of a way. I pictured a cream slice, but with white custard. To my mind's eye, this is a very white, yet warm and enveloping scent. Evocative of a tropical beach holiday, so arguably not the best fit for a rainswept night in Bristol, which is where I decided to give my sample its first ever public outing.

Then I remembered that Caryne had asked me to wear Love and Tears, its jasmine-foward counterpart, at a gig some time, so she could gauge whether that was the intensity of jasmine she was looking for on her own, vegan jasmine perfume quest. (Ongoing, and a bit of a tall order it seems.) So anyway, Janus-like, I decided to wear Love and Tears on the back of my neck, and Beyond Love everywhere else. I sense that there may be a piquant psychological metaphor in the near juxtaposition of these two scents, but I can't quite put my finger on it. It certainly made for some comedy moments in the pre-gig milling as I proffered both the front and nape of my neck for interested parties to sniff. Both perfumes got the thumbs up, with Beyond Love deemed more suitable for evening wear.

Mazzie and Simon

I resniffed the same fans who had attended one of the Berlin gigs wearing Chanel pour Monsieur and Aromatics Elixir respectively. This time Simon was in Clinique Chemistry - which I thought was a wind up, but it turns out to be its real name! - while Mazzie was in a peppery poppy perfume from the Body Shop, which smelt delightful on her. Caryne herself was wearing a sample of a patchouli scent from L'Erbolario, purchased at the same time as my bottle of Méharées.

The next day, on a whim, I morphed into a reverse Janus, wearing Beyond Love on the back of my neck and Love and Tears everywhere else. ;) Oh, after further reading on the Interwebs I have just realised that these two are part a collection of love themed perfumes, which comprises: Prelude to Love, Invitation, Love, Don't be shy, Beyond Love, Prohibited, and Love and Tears, Surrender. Me being me, I appear to have skipped the preamble and jumped into this series just as it gets interesting...;)

So yes, beyond hate lay a surprise love for this tuberose beauty. I don't anticipate that there will be a 'beyond Beyond Love' phase, but I will soon have finished my sample at this rate, so - given the prices and general hoo-hah surrounding this brand - there will imminently be a 'Beyond Wearing' phase.  And possibly a few tears about that...

Source: fragrantica

Bonus tassle pic specially for Tara!

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

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

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

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.

Lalique Flora Bella: A Four Star Sleeper Bought With Eyes Wide Shut...

In the very early days of Bonkers, I wrote a review of Jasper Conran Woman, a super cheap citrussy chypre of which you can still pick up gift sets (with body lotion!) for under a tenner in UK supermarkets. Tania Sanchez gave it four stars in Perfumes: The Guide, and likened it to Chanel pour Monsieur, yet it remains lost in obscurity and condemned to a slow death languishing in the bargain bins of Asda.

While I was over in Berlin recently, I had a good old chat with the male sales assistant at Sahling best of beauty in Galeries Lafayette, whose unbridled enthusiasm for Lalique Flora Bella (which he didn't stock, sadly) made a major impression on me. It prompted him to dream of a tropical paradise, where a handsome, raven-haired surfer dude with violet eyes crests the waves and flits in and out of view like a tantalising chimera.

You won't therefore be surprised to learn that one of the first things I did when I got home from Germany (after the usual suspects of unpacking, washing, emergency plant rescue and placating the cat, who always pretends not to recognise me if I have been away for more than a couple of days), was to get onto the Cheapsmells website and snag a bottle of this for under £17, including shipping. As I said in my Berlin Sniffathon report, it was well worth that amount just to see what all the fuss was about - or wasn't...And of course Flora Bella was created by Bertrand Duchaufour, who surely must be incapable of having an off day and creating a duffer.

Now I haven't blind bought anything for a very long time - in fact, I can't remember what the last bottle was, it is so long ago - but sometimes the thrill of the gamble is worth the risk, and if you do end up liking the scent in question, you really are quids in. Well, I have now worn Flora Bella a few times and what can I say? I thought I had smelt it all...but then this lactonic beauty came along. Hmm, I can't seem to find two note listings that agree, but here are a couple to kick us off:

BASENOTES

Top Notes: mandarin, bergamot, baie rose

Middle Notes: Daphne flower, frangipani blossom, vanilla, sweet almond

Base Notes: amber, vanilla, white musk

FRAGRANTICA

Notes: mandarin, bergamot, rose, violet, frangipani, freesia, cassia flower, mimosa, tuberose, carnation, orchid, tiare flower, white musk, vanilla and spices

I had to google Daphne flower and came across an authoritative article on the subject by Octavian of 1000 Fragrances, of which this extract seemed the most relevant:

"Daphne mezereum is maybe the best known type, but there are other scented Daphne flowers like Daphne alpina, Daphne cneorum, Daphne striata, Daphne philippi, Daphne blagayana, Daphne laureola, etc. They are all scented, covering many types of notes: rather strong, heavy, vanilla-like around an aromatic spicy concept, and there is even one that has a violet note."

That's assuming there is Daphne flower in here, of course, and the lack of congruence in note listings suggests that the jury is not only "out", but has long since dispersed and toddled off home. I have just googled a few more note lists and found sporadic additional references to lilac and blackcurrant! What an olfactory shapeshifter this scent is turning out to be...it definitely has a "pick your own" style of note list, so I am going to keep Daphne flower for starters.

A word on the packaging next: for example, the box is a rather nasty shade of mauve - I say nasty, though that is in fact the colour of the bedroom carpet in the spare room, which is also picked out in the curtains, so I must have liked it at one point. As for the bottle, it has those pleasingly square and chunky Lalique "house" contours, with hobnail studs on the edges, not unlike a musician's flight case, or the milk jug pictured further down. (I will come back presently to these twin themes of metal rivets and dairy products...)

Now here's another shapeshifting dimension to this scent - if you google pictures of the bottle, 90% of the images you find show the juice to be blue or mauve! How mad is that? I found just one or two where the perfume looks its actual colour, which is in fact a sort of washed out plum. Why should that be, I wonder?

On to the smell of the fragrance - not before time, I hear you clamour! The first thing that struck me is its lush, enveloping warmth. Texturally, I was reminded of Puredistance 1, another ambery-musky scent, but this struck me as a much airier version - and I said Puredistance 1 was airy in my recent review of it!

And I am of course assuming that Flora Bella does have amber in it, which it seems to to me, so I'm going to appropriate amber too in my pick 'n' mix note list. Oh and on my friend at the weekend - who also fell in love with this one and has probably bought her own bottle by now from the same site - it smelt remarkably similar to DKNY Gold. Once again it seemed lighter and airier than Gold, while still managing to be potent and lush. Now for sure, that is a clever stunt to pull all right - to be simultaneously full-bodied and airy - but Flora Bella is that contradictory chameleon!

DKNY GOLD

Notes: patchouli, balsam, acacia flowers, jasmine, Casablanca lily, clove, amber

Okay, so those notes looks nothing like Flora Bella on paper, but they share a beguiling sensuality, and even in the absence of lily in Flora Bella, the similarity was compelling on my friend's arm. I don't get any particular development with Flora Bella, just this initial big whoosh of gorgeous sweet florals, suspended in an airy, milky cloud over a musky, amber base. And for the record, my friend doesn't care for overtly vanilla-y scents, so this manages to be milky without straying into Yankee vanilla candle territory.

In a Facebook exchange, Olenska of Parfumieren drew my attention to the fact that Tania Sanchez also gives this scent four stars in Perfumes: The Guide. Which was an additional source of "post-purchase cognitive assonance", not that any was needed by this point, as I was well and truly smitten.

Tania's overall caption for this scent is "milky metallic", and she goes on to speak of its "dreamy, dense, milky note, which reminds me of a Filipino dessert of sweetened condensed milk poured over shaved ice", later summing Flora Bella up as "Silver, chilled cream, and a far-reaching transparent glow: it should have been called Luna Piena instead".

So now of course I had to google "Luna Piena", whose preeminent incarnation in Google seems to be an Italian restaurant in Whitby. I don't suppose Tania had that in mind at all. I have now quickly consulted an online dictionary and confirmed that this phrase is simply the Italian for "full moon". : - )

I had already formed my thoughts before reading this review, but I totally agree with the dessert-y aspect. And there is definitely a steely, flinty edge to Flora Bella too (cue rivets and milk jug!). Alain in Sahling spoke of a saltiness counterbalancing the lush tropical flowers, but it may well be this helional-"sucked spoon" note Luca Turin has identified, and to which Tania makes reference in her review.

Olenska picks up the lunar theme in her own review of Flora Bella, describing it as: "truly a lunar phenomenon, unsettling and alien."

Now that I have lived with Flora Bella for a while, I can totally see why Alain the SA is captivated by it, and why it is his favourite scent of all. I would also urge anyone who normally shies away from blind buys to take the plunge on this one. It is dreamy and creamy, and it is a bit metallic, though I personally find it warm rather than chilled. Maybe it's my age - a lot of things feel warm to me these days!

But anyway, my advice is simple: "There's a full moon, so do something a little lunar/loony - close your eyes and hit "Add to cart"...




Photo of island from capacitacionvirtual.net, photo of surfer from blog.holidayparkhols.co.uk, photo of Daphne flower from slice-heaven.com, photo of flight case from ranedj0.co.cc, photo of jug from trocadero.com, photo of Flora Bella bottle (blue) from perfumezilla.com, photo of full moon over water from chicks-beach.com, other photo my own