Showing posts with label lilacs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lilacs. Show all posts

A peek inside Jo Malone's garden on the first day of Spring! [PLEASE SEE FOOTNOTE FOR CLARIFICATION]

My own pictures from my yard.

Happy Spring!
It's finally here, groundhogs be damned. In fact, it's been Spring for a week already in Virginia, if you go by the weather and not the calendar. In my yard, the crocus blooms have already faded and fallen, the daffodils are wilting, and the tulips are pushing their way up to the front of the garden. The delicate blossoms of our plum tree have already dotted the lawn like snow, and the horrid Bradford Pears* are in bloom. Phlox creeps across the neighbor's yard, crawling with pink and purple petals, and forsythia waves cheerfully from its long, skinny stalks.

Like many perfumistas, I insist that I do not wear perfumes seasonally - I love them all and wear them when the mood strikes.

Lies!
Of course I wear perfumes seasonally. Just because I don't pack up the Winter ones and tuck the lot of them in a box in the back of the closet doesn't mean I wear my heavy oriental scents all year long. Let's get real: not every scent is meant for every season.

When the temperature starts to rise and the clothes start to lighten up, so do my perfumes. There's a brief window at this time of year where I start to become A Floral Girl. Straight-up, hardcore, all-flowers all of the time. That's right - Bad. Ass.

Or pretty. Actually, I like pretty flowers in the Spring.

Enter stage left: Ms. Jo Malone1.



Jo Malone1, she of the transparent, layerable scents has shown us pictures of her own garden. Olfactory pictures. And they're quite lovely!

I usually find Jo Malone's1 a bit too light and a little too temporary for my tastes. Hey, what can I say? I like power ambers and intense leathers and dirty, earthy skank. 

But the trio of gorgeous florals in London Blooms really got to me. I have been lucky enough to sample all three thanks to the wonderful generosity of my friend Adrienne of Best Things in Beauty.

The three - Iris & Lady Moore, White Lilac & Rhubarb, and Peony & Moss - are limited edition and they have the prettiest silk-screened bottles that just make me giggle.


Let's start with the one I was least interested in: Iris & Lady Moore.  I am not totally about the iris. It's a lovely flower - I would love a bed full of them! But the scent, at least in perfumes, doesn't rock my world. There are a few pretty iris perfumes, but I don't really feel a need to try them all and certainly don't need to own them all*.

But this one is pretty. Iris & Lady Moore was designed to be a play on ethereal iris and earthy geranium. The florals sit on a bed of cool, dry vetiver.

Iris & Lady Moore is an olfactory pressed white blouse. If I needed an office scent, I'd grab this one. It's also great for a bit of backbone -a spritz of liquid courage. I find a lot of iris scents to be bracing in that way. This perfume is an excellent choice for women who a) love iris, b) want a pretty but non-offensive scent, or c) want to smell clean but dislike the scent of clean musks.

Notes: tangerine, geranium, marigold, iris, orange blossom, sandalwood and vetiver. 

*Famous last words. Every time I say something like that, I end up eating my own words. Watch for an "I Love Iris" post soon. 


I think I have said before, my favorite Spring smell is lilac. I have a lovely lilac perfume made by Elizabeth W. I have sampled a few others (see some reviews here) and prefer En Passant above all others - there's just something about the yeasty note and the watery nuances that makes me smile. So, do I need another?

Well, maybe I do. Maybe White Lilac & Rhubarb is the prettiest, freshest lilac I have sampled in quite awhile. It's incredibly soft, ladylike, Spring-y, and pretty. It's even got a little hint of spice that makes it stand out just a bit from other lilac soliflores. That said, I don't really pick up rhubarb. More's the pity.

Notes: violet leaves, rhubarb, white lilac, rose, amber, musk, heliotrope.



 

So now it's time for my favorite. I think. Peony & White Moss.

It opens with a kick, which I love. It's a blast of berry, flowers, and greenness. Does it smell just like a peony? Well, not any peony I've smelled personally, but there's a peony-ness about it, if you get my meaning.

This scent keeps me coming back. I'm not 100% certain that's a good thing. I really can't pin down whether I'm drawn to it because it's beautiful or if I'm drawn to it because something is "off". Or maybe something is beautifully off?

Peony &  White Moss is Spring-y. It's pretty. It's maybe just the slightest bit tart. The moss is familiar - not oakmoss, please understand. It's very similar to the moss in Estee Lauder's Jasmine and White Moss, which I do enjoy.

So, I really, really can't tell if I like this one or not. But the result is I'm draining this juice at an alarming rate - and from Jo Malone's1 perspective, isn't that the point?

Notes: green sap, blackcurrant, jasmine, peony, rose, ivy, moss.


End the verdict, people, is this: these are pretty. Are they groundbreaking? No. Are they lovely additions to a perfume cabinet? Yes, especially if you're in need of pretty florals. And keep an eye on that iris one! ;)




1 Wow. I was finally noticed by Estee Lauder PR!! Sadly, it was to ask me to please clarify that "Jo Malone" is a person and she is no longer related to her former brand, which is "Jo Malone London". Basically, we all know that, but I must clarify anyway, lest you become confused.

And I guess this is where I point out that when I cheekily refer to "Jo Malone's Garden" it's not really Jo Malone's garden (duh!), it's some PR desk in a corporate office building and Jo Malone wasn't there. When I say "enter stage left: Jo Malone" she's not really there, just a figment of my imagination. When I say "she of the transparent, layerable..." it's just me babbling and I'm just trying to confuse you. Also, I will point out that when I say "I usually find Jo Malone's too light and temporary" I mean I find Jo Malone London's scents too light and temporary and I have no opinion at all on the weight or longevity of Jo Malone, the woman.

So, please re-read this whole article and mentally remind yourself that the real-life woman Jo Malone had nothing to do with these scents or my review and then, going forward, make sure you refer to the line as "Jo Malone London" - and everyone you know will give you a raised eyebrow because no one calls the line that. Except Estee Lauder. 

Happy Spring! Seven Lilacs (perfume reviews)


Lilacs are my favorite part of Spring. As mentioned before, I'm a bit of an idiot because even though I am riotously allergic to them, I sniff them constantly when they're in bloom! When I am near a large lilac bush, I happily clip big bunches of the blossoms and display them all over the house. And take a lot of antihistamines!

The lovelies over at Basenotes did another sample pass (remember the 30 Roses?), this time with lilac perfumes. Did I want in? And how!!

I reviewed 5 scents from that pass and added two others here from my own collection.



  • Highland Lilac of Rochester - pretty damn authentic lilac. A bit of greenness, maybe a a bit of spice? Smells closest to the real deal.

  • French Lilac (Pacifica)- strong lilac. Dabbed it's much more subtle - sprayed it's heady, intense, easily overdone. I have a spray bottle and it's best sprayed and walked through in my opinion, though I enjoyed it dabbed- maybe I'll decant some. Confession: I spray this on my curtain sheers when the window is open!

    Notes: Lilac, Magnolia Leaves, Heliotrope, Ylang Ylang, Hyacinth and subtle notes of Nectarine.
  • After My Own Heart (Ineke) - Soapy lilac and...? It's light and airy. I don't get "raspberry" but this is a slightly fruitier lilac than the others. A little more shrill than the others and turned a bit sour after awhile.
    Notes: bergamot, raspberry, green foliage, lilac, sandalwood, heliotrope and musk.

  • Lilac (Demeter) - like the Pacifica, but softer and a bit more rounded; pretty darned good!

  • Lilas (Cote Bastide) - this one is pretty soft unless really layered on. I wonder if that changes if you spray it (vs. dabbing from tester)? When applied fairly heavily, a somewhat spicy, sultry nuance is apparent. A dirty lilac? Who would have guessed?!

  • Lilac (Elizabeth W) - sour lilac; green underthing. Green fades to bring a more authentic lilac forward. A higher pitched scent than the others, though.
    Notes: A single note from boughs of springtime lilacs brightened with subtle hints of jasmine, neroli, and freesia.

  • En Passant (Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle) - soft and fresh lilac with a watery nuance and a bit of yeasty depth. Not bread, really. Yeast. It opens the scent up and makes it light and airy. (My earlier review)
    Notes: lilac, orange leaves, cucumber and absolute wheat.
    Perfumer: Olivia Giacobetti



Final Thoughts:

The En Passant is definitely my favorite. I find that I tire fairly quickly of a straight-up soliflore of any kind. Adding a little something (that yeasty note and wet, open feeling in EP, the spice and darkness in Lilas) seems to be the key in my opinion. The Demeter was my favorite straight-up lilac, and the Highland Lilac was the most authentic. I may try to find the Lilas somewhere and add it to the collection; the En Passant is a sure thing. It's one of those "stays on your mind" perfumes for me.

Do you like lilacs? Which is your fave?
How do you feel about soliflores?
Which is your favorite flower (perfume or real)?


Note: The pictures on this post are of my lilac, which is young and small (they grow so slowly) and not quite in bloom yet.

Disclosure: the Elizabeth W scent was a bottle provided to me by the company
a few years ago for my other blog (here's the review I did at the time);
the En Passant was a sample vial purchased by me;
the other samples are part of the swap and were consequently
mailed to another Basenotes member after I finished sniffing them.

Perfume Review: En Passant (Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle)

Lilacs in Window

I'm a little insane. Despite being viciously allergic to lilacs, I look forward to their blooms every Spring. And as soon as I see them, I pace impatiently until they open up and release their scent. Maybe pacing for a few days, which is exhausting, explains what happens next. Maybe not.

As soon as possible, once the sweet and high-pitched scent of lilac is released, I stick my face in the blooms and inhale repeatedly. Dizzy from the smell, I stagger towards the house with armsful of blooms as the histamines start their assault. It's a blissful mess of a week. I should a) have my head examined, b) invest in Kleenex, and c) get more vases - it's almost lilac season!

It might be smarter to invest in lilac perfumes. I never said I was smart. However, I have now identified a(nother) lilac-prominent scent to add to my perfume wardrobe. The first was Lilac, by Elizabeth W, and I'll review it another time. Today, I want to discuss En Passant, one of the Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle.

When I first inhale En Passant, I am surprised by the wet, fresh lilac scent. It's not so much dew-laden blooms as lilacs blooming near a fountain.

As the initial indolic 1 blast softens, a fresh and light aspect merges with the lilacs and water. While I don't smell straight-up cucumber, learning that the note is present makes me nod my head in understanding. This is no fake-y cucumber à la a cheap body lotion, though. It reminds me more of the ice cold "cucumber water" served at a local spa. Recipe: slices of cucumber get tossed in water; pour. Simple, cool, refreshing, and light.

lilacs by the window

One of my main complaints with other lilac scents, aside from an overly synthetic and plastic scent, is a cloying, overbearing sweetness. There's none of that here thanks in part to the cucumber and water notes, but also to the "wheat note".

Malle's staff told scent critic Chandler Burr that this perfume was "born in the instant that Giacobetti somewhere on a street in her native Italy passed a bakery and a florist and got pastry, flowers, and street all at once." 2 True or not, it explains the wheat.


balloon, edited
Some people smell bread in En Passant. I do not. However, I do feel that the lilac, water and cucumber is somewhat anchored by a slightly yeasty note that both expands and holds the composition. I'm currently imagining a lilac balloon tied to a weight. It's kind of like that: the scent is weighted slightly bit still allowed to move and drift, nearly weightless.

After the initial blast, the lilac seems as almost distant. To me, it's more like smelling the blooms through sheers in a window or from across the room. Distinct, but not in-yer-face. As much as I love lilacs, I'm OK with that distance. The heady smell of lilacs can tire a nose quickly. Here, it wafts gently, allowing you to smell it during the entire progression of the perfume.


En Passant is fairly linear, but multifaceted. In other words, it has different nuances but doesn't  evolve or change much over time.

Unfortunately, a balloon eventually loses it's buoyancy, and blooms fade and die. En Passant doesn't droop or wilt, but instead softly fades off and away, as if the balloon were released from its anchor. Sadly, this happens too soon - about 2 1/2 or 3 hours after application. It's worth reapplying, in my book, and I look forward to adding this unique perfume to my collection permanently.

Until then, you can find me pacing in front of the lilac bushes.





Fragrance: En Passant
House: Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle
Nose: Olivia Giacobetti
Released: 2000
Notes: white lilac, orange leaves, cucumber, absolute wheat, watery notes
(via NST, Basenotes)

Sample: dabbed from a sample vial

Final word:
Spring in a bottle.




The Purple Balloon