A spritzing blitz in London with Tara and Undina: Day 1 - Bloom Perfumery, a fried food frenzy, and a trickyHotel

Langley Court, home to Bloom Perfumery

Tara of A Bottled Rose and Val's daughter Hannah, aka the Blondeswunder, recently posted about their meet up in London earlier this month, including a sniffing, skincare and make up spree, some tasty street food, and a tour round Highgate Cemetery (not including George Michael's grave, as the guide was at pains to point out). For health reasons I wasn't able to make it down to join them for 'the graveyard shift', as it were, and though I was very sorry to miss Val, I had the opportunity to hook up with Tara last Sunday, along with Undina of Undina's Looking Glass and her vSO, whom I had not seen since our 2013 rendez-vous in Paris. They were spending a whole week in the capital, so it seemed like a golden opportunity to see them, given that they live over 5000 miles away in California.

Now I usually manage to pack quite discreetly for my trips, but Truffle happened to catch me in the act of fetching a case out from the cupboard under the stairs, whereupon the human's intentions were out of the bag, swiftly followed by my clothes going into it.

'I know those triangular things with clothes on, and they don't bode well.'

I think she also smelt a metaphorical rat at the sight of outfit contenders hung over the bed rail, and might reasonably have inferred I was going away for a week rather than one night. Hence her 'hangdog' look in the photo below. I've got all the animal metaphors going on, it would seem!

According to my time-honoured tradition - and despite considering myself a seasoned traveller - I forgot several things this time: antihistamine tablets, shampoo, and plasters (beyond the prophylactic ones I was stood up in - that were on my heels, I mean - which I knew would not survive a good wetting in the shower).

The journey to London was supremely slow, for on a Sunday the train wends it circuitous way through the little known outposts of Northamptonshire. I mean, whoever heard of Long Buckby, never mind wanted to go there any day of the week?

Tara and Undina had already got a few hours' sniffing under their belts and had lunch before I joined them around 4pm, though not before making a detour to my so-called easyHotel to check in. They were about to put me in a room on the ground floor when I reminded them that I had asked for an upper floor in the 'Special Requests' box, explaining that with the ground floor there is a risk people in the street might walk past your window and look in, possibly as you are getting dressed. So the hotel promptly put me in a room without a window instead, which I did not see coming. 'No chance of her being overlooked there', I bet they thought.

'The key to an easy night's sleep'...hohoho!

And not only did my room have no window, but it also lacked any furniture whatsoever apart from a bed - nor did it have any hangers, a bin, or a bedside light. Moreover, you had to choose between 'having the benefit of electrical current', as the estate agents say, and an unrelenting electrical hum. More on this anon, along with the geographical shortcomings of the electrical sockets. So yes, I am renaming the chain: 'reallyquitetrickyHotels'. And it is not as though I haven't stayed in this chain before, for example in Berlin last December, but the hotel in Old Street raised the bar in its testing of the customer's resourcefulness in the face of such compact and minimalist accommodation.

Having quickly freshened up (after a fashion ;) ), I made my way to Covent Garden, where I was due to meet Tara, Undina and her vSO in Bloom Perfumery. I was early, and popped into a nearby branch of MAC cosmetics to gaze in awe at the myriad shades of lipsticks that spanned several perspex display boards. I was drawn as ever to the pinky brown nudes of which I already own half a dozen variants, and accosted several young people eyeing up the same fixture to ask them to read the shade names that were in tiny lettering on the underside, before being momentarily sidetracked by two rows of astonishing Smartie-like colourways in purple and mauve, magenta and blue. I certainly did not need to know their names.

After a quick swoop on Holland & Barrett, where I picked up a bargain pack of sesame sticks and succumbed to an explosive piece of crystallized ginger they were giving away free at the till, I assumed a lookout position on the corner of Long Acre and Langley Court, the little alleyway in which the Bloom store lies tucked away. People-watching in London is as rewarding in my book as visiting any of the official tourist attractions the city has to offer, and even a ten minute stint didn't disappoint. I noted an emerging fashion trend for cut off bell bottoms-cum-sailor's trousers, while the sleeve style du jour that I can best sum up as an 'arm peplum' was also in evidence. And then all of a sudden Tara & co were there! Of course they arrived from the Floral Street end, so I didn't see them coming either...

Once in Bloom - notable for its open glass displays, exposed brick walls, and steel 'customer ladder' for reaching the uppermost shelves - Undina scoped the fixtures for brands that were either on her hit list or otherwise caught her eye, and got stuck straight in. My own MO was more desultory and haphazard, reflecting perhaps my current plateau phase in this hobby. I was genuinely curious about the Zoologist line, however, and tried a handful from that, including the upcoming addition, Camel. With a name like that it surely has to be a tobacco scent - as one of the others may be able to confirm. I do remember that my erstwhile nemesis Civet was surprisingly approachable, while 'floral fruity gourmand' Hummingbird by Shelley Waddington was a standout favourite.

Tara, looking winsome in 'Little Mermaid' pose

Later in the trip Undina rightly pulled me up for writing the name of a perfume on the same end of the blotter that I had sprayed with the tester. (Let me say right off the bat that I LOVE being 'straightened out' by Undina - she could do so all day long as far as I am concerned, with her uniquely endearing blend of common sense and motherliness.) Then additionally I see that I sometimes write on the opposite end to where I have sprayed, but then my writing may get jumbled up with the logo of the perfume house or store in question, such that I can barely make out the name later on. And occasionally, I do both ie spray and write on the end that already has writing on it.

We also had a browse through the Imaginary Authors range, whose bottles with their vintage scrapbook-like labels appealed to me, along with one or two of the admittedly quite straightforward - and inexpensive! - scents, though I am blowed if I can remember which ones now. I remember being intrigued by a perfume whose ingredients included 'the month of May', and marvelling at how they had managed to fit the whole of May in the same size bottle as the rest of the range. February might have been marginally less ambitious.

Then predictably the Beaufort range, which we briefly sniffed from the nozzle, only made me squeal ever louder with each one I tried. I am guessing their target audience is not lovers of dreamy summer florals like Songes. We also dabbled in the Dusitas, and I was quite taken with Issara, though I don't remember it reading as a fresh fougere, particularly. I also found myself muttering darkly over and over again that the sumptuously feminine floral, Melodie de l'Amour (featuring gardenia, tuberose, honey, peach and jasmine, to name some of the more punch-packing notes), would most likely give me a headache. 'Ooh, that would give me a headache....definitely give me a headache...oh yes, headache...mmm, headache...', and more of me banging on in that general throbbing, cerebral vein.

It was at that point that we spied a wrench** lying on the work surface, which is not something you see every day, least of all in a perfumery.

After about an hour Undina's vSO - who had peeled off to check out the menswear stores in the immediate vicinity - rejoined us, and we set off in an easterly direction in a bid to avoid the worst of the tourist crowds and find a quiet spot for a proper cup of tea (and coffee). Patisserie Valerie came up trumps, even though they expressly barred us from sitting at the far end of the cafe, for reasons none of us could fathom. Some kind of technical explanation was proffered - that involved opening a window, I think - but there were vital connecting bits of information missing such that whatever it was that they said simply didn't compute.

With the working week looming, Tara headed home after tea, while I led Undina and her vSO somewhat erratically on a walking tour of Holborn and Soho (the Holborn bit was accidental!), before we finally lit upon an inviting looking tapas restaurant just off Regent Street, where we had dinner. There was much ribaldry about my inadvertent menu choices, which turned out to be resolutely fried, from the chicken to the courgette to the cabbage and the parsnip fries.

A piece of fried chicken too far

And because our order as a whole was delayed, the management threw in some complimentary patatas fritas with that, which turned out to be...ahem...more fried food, clearly applying my pinky brown nude lipstick principle to Spanish cuisine.

'Have some fries with that, why don't you?'

After the meal, we said goodbye at Oxford Circus station, and went our separate ways until the morning. Back at my evermorechallengingHotel, I had the difficult call to make of whether to charge my phones overnight and put up with the electrical hum, or have a silent night and dead appliances in the morning. In the end I went with a compromise: silence till 5am, then I put my phones on charge and my ear plugs in. I was too perturbed by the claustrophobic concept of a windowless hotel room to sleep much anyway - in vain did I try to pretend I was on a ship!


Editor's note: I have just been informed by my bathroom handyman that these are in fact 'waterpump pliers'.

To be continued...

Guest Post On Bois De Jasmin - Touring London Perfumeries: A Bonkers Bike Ride

The Diamond Jubilee celebrations are in full swing in London this long weekend, and to mark the occasion, I have a guest post up on Bois de Jasmin today! - link here.

You see, last month my friend Alberto and I had the idea to see if we could get round some of my favourite London perfumeries using the city's (almost free!) cycle hire scheme. This is the account of that day, together with some suggestions as to how our itinerary could be adapted to suit a more relaxed schedule - or even a completely different mode of transport! Yes, it was a bit of a madcap exercise to get around on bikes, but my verdict is a resounding thumbs up. "Two wheels good"? I'd say so...

I would like to thank Victoria for the invitation to contribute to Bois de Jasmin, and to wish British readers of Bonkers a bunting-bedecked Happy Jubilee Weekend. Too bad about the weather, eh...? : - (

In The Sillage Of The Titanic: A Bonkers Sniffathon With Donna From Belfast

As some readers already know, one of my party tricks is to speak German in a Belfast accent. Another is to speak French in a Belfast accent. I can also twiddle my thumbs in opposite directions and have an uncanny knack for remembering the birthdays of people I only met once, up to 40 years ago - a knack which, I might tell you, has been seriously undermined lately by Facebook's notification system.

And the reason I can speak in a Belfast accent - also in English! - is because I am in fact from the city, whose more famous offspring include footballer George Best, singer Van Morrison and a certain ill-fated ship. I lived in Belfast till I was 23, which - for an all-too brief moment - equated to half my life. That fraction has now dropped back to c43% and sadly continues to fall.

Last week I was delighted to be heading back to "Norn Iron" (as we locals call it) for a long weekend, in which I visited old friends and favourite haunts, and also fitted in a work meeting - well, more of a networking meeting really - but the word "networking" has "work" in it at least, which I take as an encouraging sign.

As soon as I got in from the airport last Saturday, I dumped my bags at my hotel and headed out (we Ulster folk do a lot of "heading", I should point out, with and without attendant prepositions) on a blind sniffing date with Donna255 of Basenotes. Since starting Bonkers, I haven't been on the Basenotes forum for an embarassingly long time - well, in fairness the site has been down a lot lately due to a sustained onslaught by hackers - but back in the day I used to make the forum part of my daily routine, and it was there that I "met" Donna, and entered into an email exchange about our common roots.

And now here we were, sitting in a branch of Caffè Nero in the Cathedral Quarter of Belfast, exchanging sample bags and nattering away 19 to the dozen - or possibly 23, as we were both pretty excited! - about our respective descents into perfumistadom, and how Belfast has changed beyond recognition since I left in 1982. I learnt one particularly curious and inexplicable nugget of information about the city, namely that it boasts not one but three Molton Brown outlets - two stand-alone, and one concession. Now why would that be?

Having fortified ourselves with cake and biscuits for the sniffing session to come, and after a quick scope of the lean perfume pickings in T K Maxx, Donna and I headed over (there we go again) to House of Fraser. Built after my time, the store is in the Victoria Square shopping centre (also new to me), prompting a constant stream of exclamations on my part like: "Oh look, that's where there used to be a stationer's / school outfitter's / C & A / Arnott's...OR (insert name of several other notable and long defunct department stores).

The other thing that made me go "Ooh!" and "Aah!" at regular intervals on our wanderings was catching a whiff of Donna's SOTD, Annick Goutal's Myrrhe Ardente. This is a scent that was not really on my radar, along with its three stablemates in the Orientalistes collection, Ambre Fétiche, Musc Nomade and Encens Flamboyant. Now although Donna and I have a fair bit of crossover - we both love iris scents, for example - Donna's taste in general leans more to the darker, woodier, spicier, fruitier, incense-ier and animalic-ier side than mine, for she can handle the dank gloom of Etro Messe de Minuit and the spicy Rumtopf that is Serge Lutens Arabie with equal aplomb. Moreover SL Tubéreuse Criminelle holds no fear for her, nor does the most forbidding green chypre.

So the fact that Donna was wearing Myrrhe Ardente did not surprise me, but I didn't think for a minute that I would be so taken with the scent myself - or of Donna wearing it, shall we say, for I can't be sure it would have smelt as nice on me!

In House of Fraser we had a quick and rather dismissive sniff of the new Plum Blossom fragrance from Jo Malone. I am sorry to say it, but one or two of the recent releases from this line have reminded me rather of those Herbal Essence shampoos - ie big abstract, airy numbers - and Plum Blossom was no exception.

No...the highlight of our visit to House of Fraser has to be talking to Donna's friend Jackie, one of the most highly qualified and knowledgeable sales assistants you could wish to meet, who scored an impressive mark in her Fragrance Foundation exams - more impressive even than Donna remembered, until Jackie teasingly put her right on the exact percentage! : - ) Oh, and one of the most generous too, for she offered us a bag of samples completely unprompted.

And I was struck by the fact that in common with most Ulster people - and in stark contrast to many sales assistants at perfume counters - Jackie was super chatty and friendly. In my four day stay in the province, I lost count of the number of times someone went out of their way to be helpful: a clerk in the Post Office offering to take my rubbish off me, a barman giving me a Pepsi for free because it was slightly warm, a shop assistant giving me a £3 bag of crisps for 99p because they had run out of the 99p bags, a hotel receptionist asking if I wanted "a wee receipt with that" and proffering tips on places to eat.

Pause for two seconds in the middle of the street to consult the complimentary map the hotel had pressed upon me, and someone would always come over to ask if you were lost or needed help with directions. Complete strangers said "Hello" as I made my woozy way back to my hotel on Saturday at kebab-o-clock in the morning, and there wasn't the slightest air of menace about the streets even at that late hour. Oh, and let's not forget the man in the bar on Saturday night who told my friend he was really really in love with me. He was additionally really really drunk, it must be said, but I couldn't help but smile... : - )

But back to Donna and me and our episodic afternoon. In truth, we did more talking than sniffing looking back, but there was no harm in that! I did have a "wee" whiff of Prada Infusion d'Iris Intense (which smelt just as the name suggests!), and the Eau Provocateur version of L'Agent (weaker, yet not all that recognisable).

Then, after a "wee" detour to The Titanic memorial garden - a new addition to the grounds of the City Hall - we headed across to Space NK, where Donna drew my attention to the store's own perfume release, In Peace, a floral woody musk we thought was in the style of Cashmere Mist (Donna) / Sensuous Nude (me).

Notes: pimento, freesia, mimosa, suede, white musk, sandalwood and tonka bean.

A percentage of the proceeds of In Peace goes to fund the work of Women for Women International, an organization that helps women survivors of war to rebuild their lives, so that is all very commendable. Next up, I sampled the new 34 Boulevard Germain from Diptyque.

Notes: blackcurrant, fig leaves, pink pepper, citrus, clove, cinnamon, cardamom, rose, geranium, iris, tuberose, violet, woods, and balsamic notes.

The latest Diptyque scent was distinctly spicy, but in a soft and subtle way, and the sales assistants (Caroline and Tracey, as I have since learnt) said it was "flying out the door". I would have liked a sample, but with regret the girls explained that they didn't have any. In fact I will remember the charming duo of SAs at Space NK most of all for their copious apologies: they didn't have Nars Babe Lip Gloss, for example, and were sorry about that, and were also quite contrite for failing to stock Shu Uemura brow pencils - I had been thinking of swapping my softer pencil for the hard one that can be carved into a paddle.

Then out of nowhere, I had the idea to explore a make up category that is under-represented in my collection, namely blusher. Without hesitation, Donna and the raven-haired Tracey had between them picked out a Nars blush called Orgasm, and before I knew it Donna was applying it to the apples of my cheeks with a sample brush placed within handy reach for just such impromptu makeovers. Orgasm did noticeably brighten up my cheeks whilst managing not to deposit an excess of age-inappropriate glitter, and in a trice Donna had jokingly called for Tracey to "get me an Orgasm" - as in a pristine product from her drawer, of course.

Well, put like that, it was tough to refuse, and I have since learnt that this is an iconic product beloved of make-up artists and consumers alike. That said, not everyone is a fan of its integral glitter, though NARS likes to position this as "accents of golden shimmer". The idea of glitter certainly troubled me, but I have to say that the actual execution of this blusher on skin is subtle, and the overall effect more of a healthy gleam on my yellow-toned skin. Now...ahem...it may not have totally lived up to its name, but I wore Orgasm out on the night the chap in the bar fell in love with me, while the friend I was with described me as "blooming"...

So after our warm reception at Space NK, we headed back to another cafe close to where we had started the afternoon for another drink and a final natter, before going our separate ways at around 5 o'clock. I really enjoyed meeting Donna ("it was a quare geg"), and it was also interesting to see my home town at last through perfumista eyes. And most of all I basked in the friendliness of the people. Yes, unlike the era when I lived there at the height of The Troubles, Belfast is a city where today - with or without the help of a pop of cheek colour - a person can truly bloom...

All photos my own

Bonkers "On Tour" In Germany: April Aromatics At KaDeWe, Berlin, And Thoughts On "Tuning Out"

Saturday 21st April found me in Berlin, with my merch selling duties acquitted and a free day stretching ahead until a late evening flight home. I had plans to go sniffing in at least three different outlets, but in the end only managed a flying foray to KaDeWe, an upmarket department store with a large selection of designer and niche scents, which I also visited on my previous trip to Berlin a year ago that week.

And in KaDeWe I only sniffed scents from one brand: April Aromatics from Berlin-based artisanal perfumer, Tanja Bochnig. April Aromatics is a range I had been curious to try ever since reading Asali's glowing review of Unter Den Linden on All I Am A Redhead. And now here I was in Berlin in April - not exactly ON Unter den Linden, even though it is on the long side as boulevards go - or UNDER linden trees on any street, even, but just being in Berlin felt quite fitting!

The sales assistant in KaDeWe encouraged me to sniff the pre-prepared fragrance strips for all eight scents in the range, and said I could keep any I liked. No samples were available, which is perhaps not surprising given that the perfume oils I tested cost a whopping 70 euros for the 10ml size, while the EDP is 189 euros for 30ml. However, these scents are an all-natural line, so one would expect to pay top euro.

April Aromatics sums up its ethos on the company's website:

"Working only with natural extracts enables us to experience the true soul of a plant and April Aromatics captures these essences in its perfumes."

Well, the topic of whether plants do in fact have a soul is perhaps moot, and best left for another time. The brand also proudly states that it doesn't use "animal derived ingredients that involve the killing and torturing of animals". Now I didn't think any perfumery ingredients were sourced by killing or torturing animals nowadays, though please do leave a comment if you know otherwise. But there again, if plants have a soul, by the same token they may well also have a body that isn't too keen on being slathered in grease and having the living daylights pressed out of it. Or being scalded in a hot alembic or whatever. You can't have it both ways, surely?! Okay, so I was being facetious there, but selective anthropomorphism when it suits your purpose strikes me as a bit cheeky. : - )

But on to my testing of the range - all eight on paper, then I sprayed my two favourites on skin.

BOHEMIAN SPICE

Notes: orange, sandalwood, patchouli, incense, vetiver, vanilla

"Very spicy" was my rather terse verdict on this one. I know that isn't much to go on, but the subtext will be that it smelt more like the jumbled contents of a kitchen spice rack than a perfume you might care to wear.

JASMINA

Notes: jasmine flowers, ylang-ylang, pink grapefruit

Jasmine in 3D - this was seriously indolic to my nose. I was reminded of Gorilla Lust, which also features a vampy ylang-ylang note.

ROSE L'ORANGE

Notes: rosa centifolia, rose otto, neroli, mandarin, vanilla

"Weird, spicy, sour" is all you're getting on that one!

PRECIOUS WOODS

Notes: sandalwood, cedarwood, vetiver, buddha wood, cistus

All I have written is "very woody". Even the sales assistant apologised for the extreme woodiness of this scent, saying that it might appeal to men. Or extreme wood-loving women, obviously. An 8 out of 10 on the "trapped in a tea chest" / "planky" scale.

NECTAR OF LOVE

Notes: tuberose, neroli, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, yuzu

"Spicy, honeyed, a bit like Amoureuse?" As anyone who knows me will realise, a comparison with Amoureuse is not a good thing, the DeRae scent in question being a sticky, indolic, veritable Venus Fly Trap of a scent as far as I am concerned. Or was concerned in 2008 when I last tried it. I may be feeling a shade braver now, you never know.

ROSENLUST

Notes: rosa damascena, rose absolute, orris root, tonka bean

"Very true rose" is my bald comment on Rosenlust, my second favourite. They definitely "expressed" the souls of the petals in this one - in every sense of the term!

LIQUID DREAMS

Notes: lemon peel, narcissus flowers, osmanthus petals

This one was "very light, almost aquatic", and would have made a pretty day scent, but it didn't move me particularly, or smell recognisably niche.

UNTER DEN LINDEN

Notes: lindenblossom, mimosa, honey, bergamot, gardenia

My favourite of all - the linden note was very pretty, with a slightly indolic aspect that was well within my comfort zone. I was reminded of Ajne Printemps and its dewy, bright, photo-realistic linden and gardenia notes. Just a minute though - I thought that gardenia couldn't be directly captured in natural perfumery, but only evoked through cunningly circuitous routes? Presumably Tanja Bochnig combined natural extracts of other flowers to create the illusion of gardenia - a fusion of other white floral "souls", if you will. Yes, I think that must be it, for here is a telling commment on the Ajne website:

"Printemps is a complex, soft floral reminiscent of the blossom-filled Parisian air after spring rain. Jane began with subtle top notes that mimic soft gardenia, followed by deeper heart notes of intoxicating flowering lime."

Well, I would say that that description applies pretty well to the Unter den Linden scent too, if we substitute a windy, sunny yet rainy day in Berlin - just like the weather I experienced that Saturday.

So how come all I achieved in a whole day in Berlin was the testing of eight scents from a single range? Well, in KaDeWe I think I wasn't in the mood for the massive selection on offer, especially as photos were not permitted and the prospect of attempting to jot down the content of the fixtures was daunting. And whether I had managed to document the brands carried or not - which I hoped I might have partly covered already in my earlier KaDeWe post - I simply wasn't up for trying a bunch of things I had never heard of - that would have been too random. And generally I felt a bit dazed by the noise and the bright lights and the Saturday afternoon crowds, so I headed out again after as little as 10 minutes, even though it had taken me a good half an hour to get there!

Does anyone else have those days when you don't feel like shopping (of any kind), though there are things you need and you find yourself in a place that is the perfect hunting ground? When the term "retail therapy" is a misnomer and the "therapeutic" course of action is to be outside pounding the pavements?

Well, I guess that was how it was for me that day, though I felt suitably guilty for "wasting" a perfectly good sniffing opportunity in a major European city. But having spent a lot of that week on trains or sitting at a table in a gloomy venue, I just fancied being out in the fresh, damp air, kicking the blossoms strewn on the pavement by the blustery winds. And though I set off in the direction of one more store - independent perfumery, The Different Scent - I developed a sudden urge to track down a secondhand clothes shop where I had scored some bargains last year. I did eventually find the place but it was shut, so, having blown my chances of making it to The Different Scent before closing time, I wandered along the Berlin wall instead, taking photographs and pausing every now and then to watch the world go by.

And at the airport later, as I was reflecting on the day's activities and the conspicuous lack of perfume content, I mused on whether there was more to it than my not being in the mood on this occasion. I had after all spent the week immersed in sound, not scent, so perhaps I was stuck in a different sensory "groove"? I had also devoted myself to a new and unusual task, and my world had pretty much shrunk to the merch table in each venue.

And in my world I was preoccupied with such important matters as rubber band stocks for the posters, ensuring that I correctly distinguished between one euro coins and the twos!, and that the sizes and designs of T-shirts sold were correctly logged, along with any requests for vinyl. I had all but tuned out to the rest of my life with its sundry other roles and personae, interests and concerns. I was "Head of Merch etc, Germany" and that was that.

Also, I had gained a fair bit of satisfaction from doing what was essentially a favour to the band. I was being useful, and felt appreciated. They even presented me with a gift of a travel pepper mill, because I had previously complained that when you ask for black pepper in Germany you mostly get given white pepper and a weary look. Pepper mills are even a bit hit and miss in Italian restaurants, though those are undoubtedly your best bet. Well, speaking for the calibre of restaurant I frequent, certainly.

So it did occur to me to wonder if I was feeling sufficiently good about myself on account of a job well done that I didn't have any need for perfume as a mood enhancer? Not that I am suggesting that perfume's primary function in my life hitherto had been to act as olfactory Prozac. However, given that my discovery of fragrance coincided with the onset of middle age and its attendant insecurities, there may be some kind of connection there. Has anyone else noted an inverse correlation between high levels of happiness and low levels of perfume usage? : - ) I know that when I am very stressed I don't feel like wearing perfume either, so it could be that for me, extreme emotions of any kind are less compatible with fragrance. Like the "soul" issue above, this is rather a big question to lob in so casually at the end of a post, but I am curious to learn if it strikes a chord with anyone reading. Though it may of course have been a one-off in my own case anyway.

I will give the last word to the band - from the same track ("On my balcony") that contained the gratuitous perfume reference noted in my merch selling post.

For it just so happens that a few of the lines later in the song tie in rather neatly with my Berlin sniffing experience, such as it was...

"Imperious linden, saplings in tow
Nobody knows if she will ever see them grow
And I'm too weak to want to know
Yes, I understand, there's no rush"

No, there's no rush...I will be back in Berlin some day, with my sniffing head on next time, hopefully...?

Bonkers "On Tour" In Germany: The Perfume Bit Proper - Part 1: Mußler Beauty, Stuttgart

Back in January I received a request from a fellow blogger for tips on perfumeries in several countries which I routinely visit for work. I was able to help out up to a point, but explained that Germany itself was more regional in nature and that I lacked a complete overview.

"Frankfurt, Cologne(!), Stuttgart, Leipzig, Kassel, Dortmund and Bonn are uncharted territory for me as far as perfume goes..."

Fast forward three months and where should I find myself but in Stuttgart, with a free day and no clue what high end sniffing options the city might harbour! The thought flitted through my mind to contact the blogger and inquire whether they had visited the city in the interim and could advise me on where to go. : - )

But email exchanges take time, so in the end I decided to walk a bit and follow my nose. I figured I could start with a decent department store and take it from there. I had a back up plan of making inquiries at the tourist office or in upmarket dress shops, but none of that was necessary. For after a cursory scope of Galeria Kaufhof - where I sampled Casmir by Chopard on skin and concluded that its amber-y vanilla warmth might bother me in a bit - I hadn't wandered more than a few yards when I struck gold in the form of Mußler Beauty, at Hirschstrasse 22.

That is something to watch out for in Europe in fact - shops that from the outside may just look like a beauty salon or a cosmetics store often carry a fine selection of perfume brands as well. And so it proved with Mußler Beauty, one of a franchise comprising five outlets: three Perfumery & Beauty Lounges (of which the branch I visited was one), and two stand-alone perfumeries, all within the greater Stuttgart area. Two more branches are scheduled to open later this year.

Inside, I more or less tuned out to the cosmetics and body care side of things - notwithstanding my newfound love of luxury lippies! - so overawed was I by the incredible range of niche scents, including several brands I knew but had never come across in store, plus a few complete unknowns.

Here's the list of niche brands I jotted down, which may not be comprehensive: Farmacia SS Annunziata, Carner Barcelona, Tann Rokka, Tocca, Atelier Cologne, Korres, Memo, Bond No 9, Organic Glam (Citron & Oud), Bois 1920, Heely, Vero Profumo (extrait and EDP!), Serge Lutens, Etro, Ineke, Creed, Les Parfums de Rosine, Linari, Il Profumo and a better than average selection of Mugler.

So given this cornucopia of scents, what did I actually sniff? Well, I reacquainted myself with Il Profumo Nuda, which Birgit and I sniffed in Vienna, for the first time in my case. The 50ml bottle was going for half price at 47 euros, and I nearly texted Birgit to see if she fancied going halves, before realising that I didn't have her mobile number in my new phone. Are you by any chance getting the impression that this was a day of "nearly" doing things? : - )

Here is Birgit's review of Nuda, with which I agree completely - it is not the fruity musky number it might appear from the note list, but a delicate, silky, cosseting wisp of a thing.

I also tried Vaniglia de Madagascar from Farmazia SS Annunziata, and it was a very fine quality vanilla, but nothing groundbreaking - in similar vein to Sublime Vanille from Creed, maybe, ie not as "hardcore poddy" as Mona di Orio Vanille or that CB I hate Perfume one the Candy Perfume Boy kindly sent me recently - 7 Billion Hearts - yes, that's the one.

And then I sampled Atelier's Vanille Insensée, which was exactly as I imagined from the reviews, and not really my thing. Too rich and too butch basically. Stylistically, I would describe it as the vanilla equivalent of PG Cozé.

The only other scents I tested on skin were Vero Profumo's Rubj and Onda, in extrait this time. The Rubj wasn't vastly different from the EDP I will have tried with Tara in January in Harrod's - a bit more heady and intense maybe - but the Onda was an altogether different proposition. As in beast, even. Seriously animalic and oily and generally terrifying is about the size of it. It was only dabbed on one knuckle, but like Green Lantern's Power Ring it packed a radiant punch that left me feeling a bit sick for the rest of the day, and worried that I might repel potential punters at the merch table that night. So between the Casimir, whose sickly hum was gathering momentum at this point, and the "tidal wave" of civet in Onda, I wasn't feeling particularly inclined to test any more scents, and instead got chatting to an older sales lady in the store (or possibly the proprietor - I didn't find out her name).

This SA spritzed a couple of the Memos optimistically in my direction - her two personal favourites of Moon Safari and Sundance - but my tolerance was seriously impaired by now, and I was beginning to visibly recoil at the sight of a tester bottle. So I countered by taking some photographs of the interior, which the lady gave me permission to do. I had explained about being a blogger, and how I travel a lot and feature foreign perfumeries on my blog. To which she replied: "I understand exactly where you are coming from. You like to keep abreast of the newest things, to try them and write about them. It's all publicity for us at the end of the day, isn't it?"

And somehow we also got onto the subject of perfumes going off, and the SA said how to her mind scents on the turn smelt of the herb "Liebstöckel", which I now know to be lovage, though I am not sure if I have ever sniffed it.

Sadly, not all the SA's colleagues shared her enlightened view of bloggers, and a little while later she came up to me again and said that the others didn't like me taking photos and that she was sorry, but that that was enough now. And this despite the fact that there was only one other customer in the store at the time, who was browsing in the beauty section before moving towards the till, and never came near me. Which also tells me that this lady was probably not the proprietor after all, to have had to tell me to desist in such unequivocal terms. I felt I had outstayed my welcome and didn't therefore ask for a sample of anything to take away (which she had previously offered). Nor did I buy the bargain bottle of Nuda on an impulse in case Birgit had fancied a split after all...Sorry, B!

So I scurried out and headed back towards the main shopping area, though not without first taking a photo of the exterior, over which they had no jurisdiction. In the next hour I ambled in and out of a couple of branches of Douglas, the department store Müller and I think also Globus, but the Onda in particular had well and truly done my nose in for the day, and I just wanted to get back to my hotel and scrub it off. Yes, sadly I could not summon up any more lovage for my favourite hobby, or not for the rest of that afternoon, anyway...

Instead I stopped by Zara, where I bought a fine pair of black jeans, which I am happy to say smelt of nothing at all.

Photo of Zara jeans from myfashioninspiration.com (because mine are in the wash), other photos my own

Bonkers "In Edinburgh": An Easter Saturday Sniffathon With Anna - "Hello", "Cheerio", And The Bit In Between

In her recent tour de force of a post on content theft, "Phantoms in the Fumosphere", Tarleisio wrote (and once again, I swear I am not scraping, but quoting!):

"In Internet social interaction, it is a general rule of thumb that 90% of any given group in any given setting will enjoy the online content they have access to. They will enjoy it, they may even share it with each other. That’s all they do. Nine percent more will comment and interact with…the one percent who actually provide that content..."

As many of you know, Anna in Edinburgh is one of those nine percent, who follows a number of perfume blogs and interacts with their writers by leaving a comment on nigh on every post she reads, or that is my impression. A delightfully whimsical, pun-rich, alliterative and witty comment to boot. In short, Anna is a blogger's dream reader, and I was lucky enough to finally get to meet her in Edinburgh last Saturday.

Mindful of the fact that I had had trouble spotting Tara outside Harrods in January - who said she would be wearing a "dark grey wool coat" (of which I only retained the word "grey"), so that when, at the exact moment of our appointed meeting, a dozen grey-coated women didn't hove into view, I was royally flummoxed - Anna thought she would leave no margin for error, and donned a cream mac adorned with red poppies atop black stems. Armed with this titbit of sartorial intelligence, and the additional info that Anna was short, with brown hair tied back in a pony tail and glasses, I was confident that my sister-in-law Hazel and I would have no bother picking her out at the main entrance to Jenners (Edinburgh's most famous department store, now owned by the House of Fraser group). Well, that was always assuming we had correctly identified which WAS the main entrance....we had, and Anna's coat, with its cheery splashes of colour, was unmistakable.

Introductions over, we headed for the perfume section, where the assistants let us browse at our own pace, and even allowed me take a few photos - contrary to the store's policy - so a big thumbs up to them for that!

We loitered happily at the fixtures for some time, and had as much fun joking about the names and presentation of some of the scents on display as we did actually sniffing them. Hazel in particular, who is still only just the wrong side of "normal" in terms of her own budding interest in perfume, brought a refreshingly down to earth perspective to the topic.

"'Forbidden Euphoria'? 'Euphoria' will always be a shrub to me."

"'Eternity Moment'? That's a contradiction in terms!"

"You like Esprit d'Oscar? Sorry - I just get marzipan...yes, it is channelling Battenberg cake."

Then thanks to Anna, we also identified yet another "perfume delivery system" to add to the list that Tara and I compiled on our visit to Harrods. For when she tested the indeterminate fruity pink floral that Signorina by Ferragamo turned out to be, she sprayed the tester in the air, stepped back for a second, before leaning into the fragrant cloud.

We also discussed Jean Paul Gaultier, which I have gone on record as saying is the house which could put me off perfume for ever if I was condemned only to wear fragances from its range. Whereupon Anna revealed that she had "dithered about Fragile", strangely drawn to its kitschy snow globe presentation. Basenotes members may recognise Anna's screen name over there of Kitsch!

Then we had a bit of a snigger about Kokorico, with its strange, un-PC black head bottle in a Le Creuset casserole tin. Anna held the bottle side on for me to photograph, demonstrating that it does indeed look like the trademark JPG torso (of Classique) from this angle.

Next up, I found myself reeled in by the make up counters, and Anna and Hazel kindly withdrew to one side while I had a lipstick makeover at the Bobbi Brown counter (Nude Rose topped with Rose Gold gloss). Well, I say lipstick makeover...having done my lips, the SA muttered something about my cheeks needing a bit of colour, and just as she was about to apply blusher, reached first for some kind of primer and foundation "to even it all out a bit", meaning the skin on my cheeks, I expect. Oh dear, I thought. The SA probably felt uncomfortable letting me walk out with even these minor touch ups, and was probably itching to slather me in full coverage foundation, building it up to at least three coats, before popping me in a kiln dryer for half an hour or so.

While I was gone, Anna and Hazel got talking about their mutual love of knitting and wool. It turns out that all three of us collect wool, and enjoy fondling it both in shops and at home - a practice for which Hazel coined the term "wool worrying". It was agreed that a "wool worrying session" would broadly equate to the yarn version of a "sniffathon".

From Jenners we went to Harvey Nichols, and tested their exclusive range of unisex colognes from Gandini 1896 Maestri Profumieri. Released in 2010, it is positioned as a more affordable alternative to Jo Malone that lends itself to layering. Gandini even supplies an Olfactory Menu for this very purpose, though we didn't get that far in our own investigations of the line. Here are the perfumes:

Lime and Basil (sounds familiar to anyone?)
Red Roses and Peach
Blue Musk
Lavender and Gold Amber
Teak wood
Grapefruit and Citrus
Pomegranate and Incense
Orange Blossom and Leaves

I tried all of these on card, and the last two (my favourites) on skin. The Orange Blossom and Leaves was promisingly bright and juicy to start with, but went a bit sharp and indolic later on. The Pomegranate and Incense was reminiscent of JM Pomegranate Noir, and while pleasant, didn't blow me away.

Next door to the Gandini counter was Armani, where we sampled the new Armani Privé release, Figuier Eden. The SA told us that it contained notes of papaya, melon and fig, yet it managed to smell rather like Philosykos and was generally extremely soft and subtle. More so than PG Bois Naufragé, say, so on balance far too quiet to warrant the high price tag. According to Now Smell This, the notes are as follows (which I could much more readily believe!):

Notes: bergamot, mandarin, pink pepper, tea accord, green fig accord, iris and amber.

We were also informed somewhat tantalisingly that the next fragrance release would be "a gold one" (top? bottle?), but the SA didn't have any other details as to its style/notes.

By this point, we were sorely in need of refreshments, and decided to call it a day as far as the in-store sniffing part was concerned. At Hazel's suggestion, we decamped to the cafe of the National Portrait Gallery, where we stayed put for some two and a half hours, on just one round of drinks and a cheese scone! I must say I was tempted by the "hot cross scones", which would have nicely compensated for the previous day's "hot crossless buns" (only kidding, Hazel! : - ) ), but I can never pass up a savoury scone, especially one featuring intriguing speckly bits of green matter.

In the cafe, I upended the contents of my travel bags onto the table, which took up most of the available space, so Anna progressively fished out interesting novelties for us to try from the capacious depths of her mauve vanity case.

Here is a brief summary of what we sniffed from Anna's stash and what we all thought of it.

TAUER

Green - "green Radox" (Anna)
White - "sugared almond" (Anna)
Auburn - "big whoosh of air from a dryer in a launderette" (Anna) / "bubble gum" (me)
Zeta - "hmmm...abrasive" (Hazel)

ALOHATHERAPY (a Hawaiian company specialising in perfume oils)

China Rain - instant love all round, though I am blowed if I can call any specifics to mind now! (Can't find any information on this one - Anna can perhaps confirm if it is discontinued.)

Plumeria - as above (a really pretty floral and the stand out highlight of the day!) This was all I could find by way of a description of the oil on the Alohatherapy website:

"The first plumeria plant was brought to Hawaii in 1860 by the famous botanist Hillebrand. Hawaii’s best loved flower overflows with an irresistibly sweet and enticing fragrance."

CORINNE COBSON

Love etc - "cedar overlaid with fugitive raspberry" (Hazel) / "carrot cake" (Anna)

In case it is not obvious, this was a big hit.

TSI-LA ORGANICS RANGE

Fiori d'arancio - lush orange blossom scent

Additionally, Anna kindly let me pick out a handful of scents to take away and try at more leisure from a vegan range called Dolma, based in Nottingham. I was particularly taken with the florals in their broad selection, notably Andromeda, Anahita, Keltina and Calista, and may well report on these separately, as I haven't had a chance to retest them yet. You may well ask what ingredients are omitted in a vegan scent, given that animal-derived musks have largely been supplanted by synthetics. Anna cited beeswax as one example, while the leaflet accompanying the discovery set takes adds that animal substances such as ambergris, castoreum, civet and musk are strenuously avoided, pointing out that some expensive perfumes still use these in low concentrations.

By 5pm or so, Anna and I were both sniffed out, and we walked back together to a bus stop close to my B & B, from where she could catch a bus home. (Hazel had left us mid-way through the cafe session, having done well to have stayed the course as long as she did in the company of two hardcore fumeheads!)

After a parting hug, I set off across the road and realised that in our final exchange Anna and I had said what a good time we had had, and maybe the word "Goodbye" had even been uttered - I can't be sure now. Crucially, however, I forgot to ask Anna point blank if she would grace my ear with her signature sign off of "Cheerio".

Later that evening, I received a lovely email from her, entitled "Happy Easter, and travel safely back to Bonks central", and which ends on that immortal word:

"cheerio (which I forgot to say!)

Anna"

And look - the "in Edinburgh" is missing for the first time! But not to worry, for now I have met this most charming and supportive of blog-reading perfumistas, I shan't forget her exact location - or the fun afternoon the three of us spent together - any time soon...

Photo of Armani scent from Fragrantica, other photos my own