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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GINESTET BOTRYTIS

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

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

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

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

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

VINTAGE CALECHE

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

PERLES DE LALIQUE

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

JIL SANDER SENSATIONS

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

JIL SANDER STYLE

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

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

AMOUAGE LYRIC WOMAN

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

LE FEU D'ISSEY BY ISSEY MIYAKE

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

MOLINARD FLEUR DE FIGUIER

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

MOLINARD NIRMALA

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

ANDY TAUER ORANGE STAR

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

NINA RICCI LOVE IN PARIS

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

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

VIVIENNE WESTWOOD ANGLOMANIA

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

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

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

LIZ CLAIBORNE CURVE

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

Notes: citrus, water lily, and sandalwood

REALM FOR WOMEN

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

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

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

Up next - sniffing in Parfumerie Hyazinth...


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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh okay, just a bit...

ESTEE LAUDER SENSUOUS NUDE

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

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

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

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

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

VALENTINO VALENTINA

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

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

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

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

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

VERSACE YELLOW DIAMOND

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Results Of The Bottega Veneta EDP Sample Giveaway!

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

I have pleasure in announcing that the winners are:

NANCY (yes, he picked you!!)

and

LINDALOO (another deserving winner)

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


Photo from sniffapalooza.com

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

The Travalo: Trending Travel Tackle aka More Things On Poles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which may be why the other three are still empty.



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

Have you taken the Travalo plunge?

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

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

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

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

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







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

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

Blink and you miss it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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