A short review, perhaps to get me out of my slump. Perfume Review: #6 Mandarin and Ginger Lily (Trish McEvoy)

original image via

Quick Recipe:
Spinach + slices of strawberries +
a handful of blueberries +
some mandarin oranges + almonds +
balsamic vinegar=
Refreshing Summer Salad

I have An Issue with mandarin oranges. I love them. Clementines are lovely, of course, but there's something about the uber-juicy mandarin orange slices "fresh" from a can. Especially if those slices are chilled... Mmmmm.

via

image is my own

Naturally, citrus is a go-to refreshing zing in hot weather (hello, lemonade?!). Not just limited to gustatory chilling, citrus is utilized in a ton of Fresh, Light, and cologne-style scents.

Exhibit A: #6 Mandarin and Ginger Lily. This perfume is part of the line of scents by makeup guru Trish McEvoy (she of the clever makeup binder). It's not new, but new-to-me.

My initial thoughts? I really, really want to love this! I would love a dozen fresh, light citrus scents based on lime, lemon, orange, grapefruit, and mandarin.

I know citrus burns off quickly, relegating its use to top notes. I'm at peace with that (for now).

I spritz Mandarin & Ginger Lily with wild abandon every time, and it smells like everything I'd hoped! Zingy! Clean! Juicy! Mandarintastic!

One that delightful mandarin chill disappears, we're at the Ginger Lily phase, one assumes. What does Ginger Lily smell like? I had pondered this question as I looked at the (exquisite!) bottle the first time.

Lily, Ginger

via

Well, if anyone knows, please tell me. On me (everyone?) the mandarin is followed by the distinct scent of... Nothing.

Once the zip is gone, I get zilch. Air. Skin. Not a "skin scent", friends: skin. Mine. Nuthin' but nothing.

I'll still burn through this bottle, though, using Mandarin and Ginger Lily as a cologne-style freshener. Each spritz and happy mandarin snuffling is laced with a twinge o' sadness, however, because I'm just left wanting more.

Do you have a favorite citrus? Citrus perfume? Do you have any idea what a ginger lily smells like? Have you tried any of Trish's other scents (or this one)? Do you keep your makeup in a binder? Why are canned mandarin oranges so damned good?




Disclosure: This perfume was provided -for consideration only- as a press sample.
That fact did not influence me at all when writing or forming my opinion.

Perfume Review: High Line (Bond No. 9). And the search for A Big Floral.

via

I am looking for A Big Floral. Well, ok, if you want to be picky: another big floral.

I don't want a rose. I don't want elegant white flowers. I want pretty. Colorful. Happy! I want to douse myself in floral joy (but not the floral, Joy.)

I have Paris (YSL, vintage), so rose + violet is covered. Amaranthine (Penhaligon's) is a huge favorite. Her ylang-ylang, orange blossom and jasmine with a kick of milky banana (better than it sounds) have my tropical needs covered. I adore Chinatown (Bond No. 9) which is a mixed floral over patchouli and sandalwood that, on me, is mostly patchouli. Still lovely, but not it's not hitting the spot I'm aiming for.

Also tried: Amouage Gold, regal, glorious, spendy!; Joy (Patou), vintage and modern so, so lovely but not The One; Chamade (Guerlain), I adore it, but it's not the happy colorful scent I'm craving; Daisy (Marc Jacobs), I like it, but it's not for me; Ralph Lauren Romance, used to be my "signature scent" long ago - too clean, too pretty, too been-there-done-that; Flowerbomb (Viktor & Rolf ), too foody to be my floral; Chanel No. 5, just isn't me.

There are others, but I won't bore you with the longer list. I love quite a few florals and wear them happily, but...

via

I want A Floral ! Bright, pretty, colorful, happy flowers. I want bottled cheer. White florals are great; I own a few. Tropicals are dreamy, but not what I'm talking about here. I want a riot of different flowers. Tumbling, smiling, happy flowers.

It's one of those "I'll know it when I find it" things.

Which brings us to Bond No. 9's High Line.

A floral. "A scent that conveys a whiff of urban wildflowers... An androgenous floral-marine bouquet..." (from the company's spiel). The bottle looks promising: the familiar Bond No. 9 star silkscreened with bright yellow-green grass and contrasting fuchsia tulips.

via

via

Quick background on the name of this perfume

The High Line is actually an elevated neighborhood in New York City. Elevated. As in not on the ground.

In the 1930's, a large area of train rail was lifted above Manhattan, a nifty 30 feet above the hustle and bustle of the industry and crowds below. The trains carried food and manufactured goods across the 13 miles of track through the city (sometimes with trains going directly into buildings!).

Trains stopped running on the High Line in the early 80's and the line was scheduled to be demolished in the 90's. A group of activists formed Friends of the High Line, which -to make a long story short- converted a portion of the tracks into an elevated park that is 1.45 miles long. The High Line Park is owned by the City of New York. It runs above the Meatpacking District, West Chelsea and Hell's Kitchen.

via

According to the Bond No. 9 blog, the High Line park "literally hums with over 210 species of perennials, grasses, shrubs, and trees."

210 species. That's a lot of plantlife!  During the 20-some years the tracks lay abandoned, grasses naturally developed along the strip. The High Line park has been planted with those grasses and some other species native to the area.

This scent could go anywhere! Wildflowers! Grasses! The scent of the meatpacking district of yore! Er...

So what did Bond No. 9 go with? What did they do to celebrate this clever concept and urban park?

They say it's bergamot, purple love grass, Indian rhubarb, red leaf rose, orange flower water, tulip, grape hyacinth, sea moss, teakwood, musk and bur oak. In reality...

They made a very synthetic grass and water perfume.

High Line is inexplicably sodden. Water-logged. And not in that fresh dew glistening on the flower petals kinda way. Nope. High Line is wet in a quite fake, synthetic way. I think the aromachemical used here (with a heavy hand) is called Calone. It's used to make a Fresh and Aquatic nuance. Here, it overlays a

via

comic book version of grass.

Mix the in-your-face fresh water with plastic grass and some unidentifiable flowers and Voila! High Line!

Or, as I like to imagine: Florist Barbie in a snowglobe.

Yes, it's a harsh critique, and I know High Line has its fans. Great! It's just that for $145 for 50ml, I expected more. Especially considering how fun the concept of the High Line park project is.








 
House: Bond No. 9
Perfume: High Line
Perfumer: Laurent Le Guernec
Notes: bergamot, purple love grass, Indian rhubarb, red leaf rose, orange flower water, tulip, grape hyacinth, sea moss, teakwood, musk and bur oak.
Released: 2010
Sample: press samlle provided by brand

Final Word: Barbie's Dream Scent!!

So, I'm still looking for that cheerful, in yer face floral.
Got any favorites?

Perfume Review: Jimmy Choo

Let's just start here, for lack of a better place: I do not own any Jimmy Choo products. Not shoes, not handbags, and definitely not the Uggs.

I'm aware of the legacy of Jimmy Choo, and I admire Tamara Mellon for being a savvy and successful business woman.

Mellon and Choo certainly have a great understanding of the luxury market! I clearly do not have a great understanding of the luxury market. I wear Skechers. I own numerous t-shirts, none of which cost more than $15. My "handbag" is from Target. Much of my jewelry is hand-crafted by artisans (I like craft shows), but doesn't really have a lot of value. Let's just say Lindsey won't bother stealing any of my stuff.

Tamara enjoys it...

The only luxury items I own are cosmetics and perfume. The former I know a lot about, and the latter I'm learning.

Mellon, who also poses in the ads, is apparently "into" perfumes. She's been wanting to create one for 15 years, the press releases assure.

Reviews of Jimmmy Choo's first perfume are mixed. It seems to be the kneejerk reaction to assume new, mass-merchandised scents are bad. Some are. Some aren't. But is this one...?



Let me describe it, first. The opening is a musky peachy citrus blend on my skin. Not sharp, plastic, or fake. We're off to a good start! It quickly adds a floral aspect that's a bit harsh (like the spike of a high heel?) at first, then slowly rounds out a bit. The lower notes of Jimmy Choo perfume are a gourmand-inflected patchouli. Not foody, but somewhat caramelized.

It wears well, with a presence. Sillage is moderate-to-strong; lasting power was medicore (fading on my skin in about 4 hours).


This is a people-pleaser scent, in a way, but also somewhat more complex than most of the recent launches I've smelled at Nordstrom and Saks. It's got the fruity bit that's so common popular right now (and I think it does it well). It's got that woody (not oud-y) bit that's so common popular right now (and I think it does it well). It also has that sugary bit all the kids like (and I think it does it well). It's a little of everything and as slippery to pin down as JELL-O. It's kind of like some of the Jimmy Choo shoes which, to me, appear to have a lot going on even when providing fairly minimal coverage.

I like Jimmy Choo perfume. I enjoyed the various phases. I also like that, thanks to the aldehydes present, this seems like a Perfume (Big 'P') rather than simply a perfume. Dressy. "Night-time". I'm a bit cavalier about wearing perfumes whenever the heck I want to, but many may consider this a scent to pair with A Big Girl Dress... and Jimmy Choo slingbacks, of course!

That said, I still don't own anything marked with the Jimmy Choo label. While I found this perfume interesting and pleasant (and will use the rest of the sample eventually) I prefer the floral-patchouli of Flowerbomb (Viktor & Rolf) and Chinatown (Bond No. 9) to the genre of "fruitchoulis" or neo-chypres or however one might label this perfume. Still, I wouldn't say no to a free bottle. Tamara?

House: Jimmy Choo
Fragrance: Jimmy Choo
Perfumer: Olivier Polge
Released: 2010
Notes: green notes, pear nectar, sweet orange from Italy, Tiger Orchid, caramel, Indonesian patchouli.
Sample: obtained at Saks; also liberally spritzed from tester.

Final Word: pretty.






Other reviews of Jimmy Choo: 

• 1000fragrances: Jimmy Choo eponymous perfume - new fragrance review
• Perfume Posse: Jimmy Choo perfume
• The Scented Salamander:  Jimmy Choo, The Perfume (2011): Mix and Match Like a Fashionable Cameleon {Fragrance Review}
• On Basenotes 
• On Fragrantica 
• On Makeup Alley

Speed review: Chelsea Flowers (Bond No. 9)

This is a soapy, clean floral. It's not terribly realistic, but is fairly pretty. It reminds me a bit of the generic bouquets we used to make when I worked at a florist: ordinary flowers mixed in a fairly easy "recipe" that were pleasing but didn't make a statement. Even the bottle is a yawn.

Fragrance: Chelsea Flowers
House: Bond No. 9
Perfumer: Laurent Le Guernec
Notes: white peony, mimosa, French tulip, white hyacinth, magnolia, rose, musk, sandalwood, vetiver, tree moss
Released: 1999
Sample: PR sample

Final Word: I've already forgotten about it.

Perfume Review: Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune (Guerlain)

I do not want to smell like a grapefruit.

In fact, I do not want to eat a grapefruit. I think they are evil. A twisted joke on the tastebuds.

Why on earth would anyone want to smell like a grapefruit?

Not me.

When I went back to Sephora to purchase my Figue-Iris, I wanted to sample the other Guerlain Aqua Allegoria offerings on the shelf. I got Pamplelune (and a few others). Pamplelune is grapefruit.

What? She said it was the best seller in the group. (I'm easy)

When you look at the fragrance pyramid, you'll see that Pamplelune is grapefruit A LOT:

Sure, but does it have any grapefruit?

I don't want to smell like a grapefruit.

When I spritzed, I winced in some kind of protective reflex. You know what, though? It wasn't so bad. In fact, I kind of liked it.

via

The next day, I tried again: a nice wide spritz on one forearm, which I gently brushed against the other arm.

Not bad! In fact, kinda awesome. I can see where this would be a refreshing scent on a hot summer morning.

via

It's all grapefruit, for sure. Sour. Nearly tart. Not at all sweet. If there are flowers in there, they're off sulking in the corner, 'cause I don't smell them.

Like Figue-Iris, this perfume is light (though more intense than the fig). It opens brightly, then softens and pulls in closer to the body. There it stays.

The drydown on this seems shorter than Figue-Iris. I feel like there's some vetiver there, along with the vanilla and patchouli and "delicious grapefruit". The drydown leans slightly masculine, kind of cologne-y, but I don't think women should hesitate to wear it if they're into grapefruit.

Even this Pamplelune won't eat grapefruit.                                                  via

It's got a lot of grapefruit.

Worst.  Job. Ever.       via

In taking my notes, sometimes I respritz on clean skin to make sure I didn't miss anything worth mentioning. Imagine my shock when all of the sudden there was a fairly distinct sweaty armpit stink radiating from my arms! I think some of the respritz landed on the skin where I had originally sprayed and the top notes overlapped the basenotes. Well, all I can say is apparently:
Acidulous Grapefruit + Delicious Grapefruit = Body Odor.^[1]




I don't want to smell like body odor. Especially on a hot Summer day!

That said, I really like this perfume! (Sick, right?) I'm going to play with my sample a bit more as the weather warms up, but I've gotta say I can see myself wearing this - but only one spritz and no reapplication! As I've said before, that's no big deal to me, because I like to change my perfume during the day. Besides, I bet this would layer well with orange and lemon scents... unless they make more BO. I'm not good at math.

Fragrance: Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune

House: Guerlain
Perfumer: Mathilde Laurent
Notes: Acidulous grapefruit, flowers from Provenence, grapefruit, delicious grapefruit, patchouli, vanilla
Released: 1999
Sample: requested at Sephora.

Final Word: I want to smell like grapefruit!



So... do you want to smell like grapefruit? Do you prefer Oreos or pamplelunes?

Other reviews of Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune (Guerlain):

Legerdenez: Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune
Pere De Pierre: Pamplelune (Guerlain)
The Scented Salamander: Perfume Review & Musings: Pamplelune by Guerlain (1998)
On Basenotes
On Fragrantica
On Makeup Alley

[1] Apparently some people also pick up the charming scent of "cat pee" from Pamplelune. Awesome.

Perfume Review: Aqua Allegoria Figue-Iris (Guerlain)

I like heavy Oriental perfumes. Bring on the spice, deep flavors, and heavy moods!

The problem is, Spring is Springing... My preferred genre is Too Much in warmer weather.  I need lighter, brighter options or I need to move to Siberia. I'd rather not move.

green. very, very green.         via

I have been interested in perfumes with fig notes. I have tried a few, but none were what I wanted.

Maybe I don't like fig in perfumes. Maybe I don't "get" fig in perfumes. Seems to me everyone likes green fig notes that are representative of the fig tree. As in: tree, bark, sap, sticks, unripe figs.

Not me. I want ripe figs. Purple figs. Dessert.

Walking through my Sephora two weeks ago, I noticed the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria bottles. So pretty. The golden netting around the top, in a honeycomb pattern! The little bee on the button top! The graceful shape of the bottle itself...

I looked more closely... one of the packages had a fig on it. Out came a blotter. Spritz. A tentative sniff.

Interrrrrresting.... A ripe fig. A touch of citrus (just an eensy bit). Vanilla. (Of course. It is Guerlain, after all.) Verrry interrrrrresting...

I asked for a sample.

The Aqua Allegoria line was a concept deployed by Jean-Paul Guerlain, intended to create watercolor-style impressions of natural notes.

Figue-Iris, the bottle that caught my eye, was created by Jean-Paul Guerlain himself, and released in 2008. Notes, besides the fig and iris, include bergamot, grapefruit, violet, "milky notes", woods, vetiver and vanilla.

Let me jump to the end of the story, then backtrack: the sample was used. Emptied, in fact. I now own a full-sized bottle.




What sold me? The bright opening, lightly citrus-tinged with the promise of vanilla. The fig note, ripe and milky and sweet and luscious. The delicate floral blend of iris and violet, both subtle, that create a bridge from fig to base. The Guerlainade-Lite drydown, which sticks around for hours, a lightweight, pulsating, vanilla woods.

Figue-Iris is not green, does not have a strong or long-lasting heart, and is not very Iris-y. But it is light, comfortable, close-to-the-skin, and lovely. It is perfect. It is Spring.

Which perfumes do you like in the Spring? Are you a fan of figs? If so, the greener the better, or dessert-y like me? What do you think of the Aqua Allegoria line?




Fragrance: Aqua Allegoria Figue-Iris
House: Guerlain
Perfumer: Jean-Paul Guerlain
Notes: Fig, iris, bergamot, grapefruit, violet, milku notes, woods, vetiver, vanilla
Released: 2008
Sample: requested at Sephora. Then I bought a bottle.

Final Word: Figgy and fresh, and a perfect Spring scent.

via

Other reviews of Aqua Allegoria Figue-Iris (Guerlain):

Bois de Jasmin: Guerlain Laurier Reglisse and Figue Iris : Aqua Allegoria Perfume Review
EauMG: Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Figue-Iris
Now Smell This: Guerlain Figue Iris & Laurier Reglisse, the 2008 Aqua Allegorias ~ perfume review
On Basenotes
On Fragrantica
On Makeup Alley

Perfume Review: New Haarlem (Bond No. 9)

I can't "do" mornings without my coffee. It's crucial. The aroma as it brews, the warmth and weight of my favorite mug, the ritual of making and drinking it... All of these things reassure me and make me feel like my day has officially begun on a good note.

via

I had no idea until recently that there was such a thing as a coffee note in perfumery. Sure, I've smelled coffee candles and such, but they didn't move me. I'd rather fire up a pot and experience the real deal.

To say I was skeptical about coffee in perfume is an understatement. What I didn't want: an artificial smell, plastic tones, randomness, and pandering. In other words, if you're going to put coffee in a perfume, it had better smell good and be artistic- it must make sense.

Enter Bond No. 9 and their popular New Haarlem.

Northbound with the A-train to cabaret-jazz club-central... a scent so brazen it was barely captured in a bottle. Molten, liquified swank with androgynous appeal, to wear after midnight in -and on- hot-spots.

I wasn't too sure what to expect from New Haarlem, but what I did know is that many folks raved! Detractors mostly seemed put off by the concept of smelling like food or drink, or by the price. ^[1]

I obtained a sample, spritzed, and waited...

via

...of course, I didn't have to wait long! This scent starts with an eye-opening blast of black coffee with a double-shot of espresso. It's sharp and it's bracing. And it's good!

Just as a piping hot cuppa cools, so does the opening intensity of New Haarlem. Bond No. 9 isn't done, though. Not by a long shot.

friggin' adorable. via

Next up is a shot of something green and a dose of a lovely lavender. The combination takes the coffee note to an almost licorice-like place that some people seem to read as "burnt" or "caramelized". The green and lavender aspects cut the sharpness and  freshen the scent.

The green notes fade after about ten minutes and a slightly vanilla tone replaces it. ^[2]

Smells like a coffee break with this guy.

It's at this point where I'm no longer sipping my first mugful of coffee in the morning. Now I'm sitting next to an older jazz musician on his break, chatting over takeout coffee in styrofoam containers. I can smell his cologne, a nice fougere with lavender, vanilla and a bit of patchouli. New Haarlem, by the way, is marketed as "unisex" and I would agree: it's neither feminine nor masculine... just good.

Just like the best jazz clubs, New Haarlem's music never stops. This perfume goes and goes and goes and goes, always with a distinct coffee note. I can get at least 24 hours out of one little spray, with significant throw and sillage. Great for me, because I adore this perfume, but if you don't like it it's bad news! ^[3]

In fact, if I had to complain about New Haarlem it would be about the longevity. I love this perfume, but it's so intense and persistent that it's there for the day - and I like to switch scents midday. Still, as complaints go, that's fairly minor.
 

 

Fragrance: New Haarlem
House: Bond No. 9
Perfumer: Maurice Roucel
Notes:  patchouli, lavender, vanilla, coffee, cedar and bergamot
Released: 2003

Sample: provided by Bond No. 9 PR

Final Word: It's like enjoying the perfect cup of coffee all day long!

via

Other Bond No. 9 New Haarlem reviews:

Bois de Jasmin: New Haarlem by Bond no. 9: Fragrance Review ::
Now Smell This: Bond no. 9 New Haarlem ~ fragrance review
One Thousand Scents: Big Money: Bond No. 9 Wall Street and New HaarlemEiderdownpress: Bond No. 9 New Haarlem
Basenotes reviews
Fragrantica: reviews

Makeupalley reviews 

 

[1] Bond No. 9 scents run for about $215 for 100ml; $150 for 50ml; and $45 for a 7ml "bon-bon".
[2] There are moments in New Haarlem's development where -and Perfumista's please don't shoot me for this!- I'm reminded of Jicky (Guerlain). It's the vanilla + lavender + patchouli blend.
[3] By the way, it's so tenacious it takes a good deal of scrubbing to remove. Try washing the skin with Tide (yes, really).

Perfume Review: Le Mimosa (Annick Goutal)

Here's how I could do this whole review, were I succinct and a little more artsy...

Annick Goutal's new, limited edition Spring scent, Le Mimosa smells like this:

via

The End.

*****************************

Sadly, Lucky for you, I'm not at all comfortable with verbal brevity. For your entertainment, a more wordy review follows.

via

Le Mimosa is "a soliflore". To save you other Newbies some Google Time, I've done some legwork. A soliflore focuses on a single flower. There's a catch, though. In the words of the esteemable Angela of Now Smell This, a "soliflore is a perfumer's vision, an interpretation of the scent of a flower". ^[1]

In the much less eloquent words of yours truly, a soliflore is a flower or bloom as seen sniffed through the eyes nose of a perfumer. Some rose soliflores play up the honeyed nuances of the bloom, others the spice, while others include green stemmy aspects. It can be said that when it comes to perfumery a rose is a rose is a rose but all roses are not created equal... or something.

OK, so let's get back to Le Mimosa, shall we? It's (wait for it...) a mimosa soliflore.

I don't know too much about mimosa. I've heard of the drink, which is a one part champagne, one part orange juice cocktail. And we have invasive trees here in Virginia called "Mimosas" which look like the these:

silk trees aka  "junk trees"
via

But I'm pretty sure they're also called "silk trees" and aren't what the Annick Goutal folk were referencing. I'm certain they were after the big golden fluffies in the other pictures - a harbinger of Spring to folks all over the world ^[2] and a cousin to the ones near my home ^[3].

What does the yellow fluffy mimosa smell like? I can't speak from personal experience, because even though I think the fernlike fronds and happy puffball blooms are pretty, around here silk trees are usually found along roads and lining ditches, earning the classification as  "junk trees" according to my husband. And they probably don't smell like the yellow ones, anyway. Sigh.

Smooth mango goodness.
via

We already know putting words to scents is tricky business. What little I've been able to find describing the scent of mimosa tends to involve these words: sweet; slightly fruity; honey; mango; cucumber. ^[4]
By the way, can we all say "mango smoothie"? Um, yum!

I suppose what's important is what Camille Goutal and Isabelle Doyen think a mimosa smells like, since they created this perfume. Here's what they have to say:

^{Built around a mimosa absolute from Grasse, with sweet floral hues punctuated by soft green, Florentine iris and anise are added to enhance the flower's natural facets with their powdery strength. At the heart of the composition a peach, with sweet undertones of sun-drenched flesh, using its fruity curves as though to adorn the mimosa with unprecedented radiance. Then the white musk makes its entrance, draped over a light sandalwood frame, to carefully wrap the wake of this soft single flower perfume in a silky, milky and deliciously addictive blanket.}

What do I think it smells like? Heaven! To elaborate: a peachy honeyed musk. For you synesthetics: I don't picture yellow when I try to pin a color association on this perfume. Instead, I see the color of the flesh of a ripe mango. And there just may be a mango facet to this scent (just sayin').


While a soliflore, Le Mimosa is neither linear nor "one-note". It's as complex as any bloom, and shows several faces as the fragrance develops.


I do detect a slight flirtation with anise in the opening, and if you're an anise-phobe like myself please know that it's amazingly delightful here: soft, necessary, fleeting.

Is this a peach scent? No. While there is peach present, I'd say this perfume is peach-toned. Just as a peachy streak enhances a gorgeous sunset, but a sunset isn't only orange, so this perfume contains peach without being a peachy perfume. Sometimes I think I only make sense to myself, but what I'm getting at is the peachy tones enhance the scent without for even one millisecond resembling an artificial peach perfume.

Do I pick up the iris, though? Not really. Maybe a tad as the heart folds softly into the drydown. Speaking of the drydown, can we talk about how lovely a softly powdered & musky, vanilla'd sandalwood sounds?! Delish.

What happens when you Google "baby kitten peach"
via

On me, the peach honey phase is not long enough, but lasts a good hour or two. The drydown is still perceptible on my skin eons later (like, the next morning). My dab-on sample doesn't have a lot of presence or sillage; not sure how spraying would change this, but I suspect it might. If I remember, once I buy my bottle(s) I'll update you.


If I were asked to describe the scent via nose picture, I'd be concocting some visual metaphor involving kittens and peaches and the soft smell of a baby's head. But that would be weird. Instead I'll do a word association: soft; cuddly; fresh; happy; yellow velvet; fluffy; comforting; delicious; soothing; Spring.

In case you're looking for me this Spring and early Summer, you'll find me climbing mimosa trees along the highway, pressing my nose into the fluffy blooms and wearing Annick Goutal's Le Mimosa - just so ya know.







Fragrance: Le Mimosa
House: Annick Goutal
Nose: Isabelle Doyen
Release: March 1, 2011 as a limited edition
Notes: Anise, Florentine iris, sun-drenched peach, white musks, sandalwood and mimosa
Sample: Annick Goutal website ~ I asked for a sample.

Final Word: Full bottle-worthy plus a backup.









[1] I was going to go through this whole "each artist paints a subject differently" thing, but since Now Smell This beat me to it, read the metaphor here. (warning: all links to other blogs may inspire lemmings).
[2] By "all over the world" I mean "lotsa places". I'm not interested in the specifics because research is difficult with my nose stuck to my wrist.
[3] Several sources I found vaguely state that there are over 400 species of mimosa.
[4] Loved this link which answers the question "what does mimosa smell like" with the answer saying, essentially, "I don't know, but probably good." Ah, the internet...

More reading on mimosa:
The Grumpy Gardener: Mimosa -- The Wonderful Awful Weed
Henry Holland's Six Scent Fragrance Smells Like...Sex
CASSIE ABSOLUTE (Mimosa Absolute)

Other Le Mimosa reviews:
Bois de Jasmin ~ Annick Goutal Le Mimosa : Fragrance Review 
1000 Fragrances ~ Mimosa (Annick Goutal) - new fragrance review
Perfume Shrine ~ Annick Goutal Mimosa: New Fragrance

Other mimosa-centric scents:
Aqua Allegoria Tiare Mimosa (Guerlain)
Calèche Fleurs de Méditerranée (Hermes)
Eau de Charlotte (Annick Goutal)
Farnesiana (Caron)
Mimosaique (Patricia de Nicolai)
Mimosa pour Moi (L'Artisan Parfumeur)
Mimosa (Czech & Speake)
Note: I'm sure there are more and I haven't smelled any of them, including the ones I listed. Share your favorite in the comments!

via