Patch Test Bunny reporting for duty! 2011 Summer of Patchouli Love.

I am so totally loving being a Patch Test Bunny! Not only am I getting to try some amazing natural perfumes, but I'm falling in love with patchouli all over again!

I'm going to review most of the scents here, but first I want to tell you which I've selected as my Top Three!

Remember: each Patch Test Bunny (bloggers, experts, famous friends) got 13 un-numbered samples of natural perfumes constructed around a minimum of 25% patchouli. Each perfume is 100% natural. Otherwise, it was up to each perfumer to decide where to go with their scent. Some buried the patch in light, bright florals, while others reveled in the patchouli and honored its darker side. 

In my opinion, each and every one is bottle-worthy (no, really!), but I had to pick 3 favorites. They were...

Here are a few notes about them:

#11 - My first place choice, though it was an intense struggle to choose. This one opens strong and tough, but then pulls me in close and hugs me, just like I like it! I didn't immediately notice the leathery aspect until Nathan Branch (one of my imaginary BFFs) pointed out, but indeed there is a nuance of leather. I enjoy a bit of badass in my perfumes, so this doesn't surprise me too much. But I also love the wafts of florals and mellow patch. I'm really diverse and this scent works for all of my sides!

#2 - I love the meatiness of this one. Not like a side of beef. More like deep and complex. Over time a bit of a smoky vibe starts to come out, which adds to the complexity, richness and beauty of the scent. There is a little bit of a flirtation with the gourmand here - something vanilla? Maybe chocolate? Is that anise? Wait, it's gone. I can't wait to read the notes in this one - you know my baby, newbie nose isn't great at this game!

#3 - You know how sheer curtains catch in the breeze, billowing out nice and full and then pulling back in, tight? That's kind of how this perfume moves. It's light much of the time, with a hidden darker base tinged with spices. There's coconut in there, I'm sure of it, and even though I wouldn't call this "tropical" its lightness and simply pretty presence is going to be with me at the beach on vacation!

One thing all of my top choices have is noticeable patchouli. Well, there's 25% in there, right? Not so fast! Not all of the 13 placed the patchouli out there, front and center. Some had hidden the patchouli pretty well, which is fine, but I love the patch and want to smell it.

Most of the testers have returned their ballots and many have shared some thoughts on the scents they enjoyed most. As soon as all of the votes are in, Monica will announce the three winners (most overall votes) and share the scent breakdowns. Then we can all buy the ones we love, just in time for late Summer-early Fall (my favorite time to wear patchouli).

Stay tuned for more Summer of Patchouli Love.

Peace, Love and Patchouli (PLAP)!

* jen

Get up-to-speed on all of the PLAP happenings here, on Perfume Pharmer.

Visit the thirteen genius perfumers at their sites:

• Liz Zorn,
• Dawn Spencer Hurwitz
• Jane Cate
• Rodney Hughes
• Shelly Waddington
• Alfredo Dupetit
• Ambrosia Jones
• Amanda Feeley
• JoAnne Bassett
• Lyn Ayre
• Charna Ethier
• Kedra Hart
• Tanja Bochnig

Got info? No. 4711 Geranium Rose Eau De Cologne Mystery...

A few of you may have seen me post about this on Facebook a few weeks back. This adorable bottle of No. 4711 Geranium Rose Eau de Cologne came home with my husband one day. I had never heard of it before. Apparently, neither had anyone I talked to. Well, turns out even the 4711 company knows nothing about it!  Here's what they told me...

"XXXXX XXXXXX forwarded me your e-mail. Unfortunately we do not have any information on the Geranium-Rose series. We only know that there also was a soap under that name and that it probably dates from the mid 1960s. But I could not find it in any of the catalogues or price lists. "


How cool, odd, and awesome is that? I have a truly rare bottle of perfume! And completely on accident. I knew it was atypical when he called me and read the bottle label to me. "Buy!" I yelled, like a Wallstreet trader. $2 later, it was ours.


Have any of you ever heard of it? Had a neat vintage find?

PS: How does it smell? Like burning acetone at first, followed by a sweet lemon-rose. It's short-lived, as I expected. Very pretty and sweet.

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.

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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

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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.

A rut?

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When I go to a restaurant, I have a tendency to order the same dish over and over. When I find a shirt I like -and this is especially true with pants and jeans!- I buy several colors.  I know which beach I like for Summer vacation and I don't want to try new ones, thank you very much.

On the other hand, I'm always up to try a new restaurant,  travel to a new place, or try something new.* I'm not shy, not afraid of strangers or strange places, and not so self-centered as to say that things familiar to me are the only way to do things.

But I do like my comfort. The familiar. When I enjoy something, I like to snuggle into it and revel.

Lately, I've been in a perfume rut. I think the tumbleweeds blowing through this blog are a pretty substantial hint that perhaps I am not feeling inspired. So... I thought I'd write about it!

As a budding perfumista I have ordered aproximately one bajillion perfume samples. One vial often leads to the next, like one web page takes you somewhere new, then another, and another...  The blogs stir my curiousity, too. A rave review, and evocative description, even a flaming rant can all send me off in search of a sniff.

I'm brave. I'm curious. I'm pretty fearless about trying new samples (but haven't had the nerve for Secretions Manifique, yet!).

But then -is it olfactory self-preservation against the onslaught of New?- my need to burrow kicks in. I find one, maybe two new favorites and stick with them. I order them up daily, like a favorite dish at a familiar restaurant.

Most recently, I've been sticking close to these amazing scents:

• Citizen Queen (Juliette Has a Gun)**
• Gold Woman (Amouage)
• Lyric Woman (Amouage)
• Ubar (Amouage)
• Mitsouko (Guerlain)
• Musc Ravageur (Malle)
• Gris Clair (Serge Lutens)

The truth is, these are amazing, stellar scents and I don't feel at all ready to give my impressions on them. Most of them are legitimate masterpieces, in my opinion. I am not worthy!

While I have no desire for "a signature scent", I find this pattern of exploration and monogamy suits both sides of me.

Do you go through exploratory periods? Get in long ruts? Or are you pretty balanced?


*As long as it doesn't involve long (read: painful for me) plane ride,
extreme heights, or spiders and large bugs!
**funny- my early Spring found me running to JHAG's Calamity J.

Lily of the Valley, May Day, and more!

OK, here's the thing... I had no idea that May Day (the 1st of May) (today) was related to the Lily of the Valley. See also: I didn't even know that "Muguet" is the same thing as Lily of the Valley. It's the French, you see. I didn't take it. I took Spanish. See also: I do not know any Spanish which became clear when I insisted on having icecream* added to my sodas on my honeymoon in Oaxaca.

*I meant "ice". Whoops.

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So, as a new perfumista, I felt it my duty to figure out this whole Lily of the Valley-Muguet thing.

My quest for information sent me down various roads, most of which were boring if you, like me, snooze when historical info starts getting tossed about. The thing that kept me awake were the cool pictures, so I'll share some of those, too. It all starts with May Day...

What is May Day?

No, not "mayday" as in "the plane is going down!". May Day - the first of May. It's celebrated in many countries around the world and has been for many centuries. I learned the following:

1. May Day is also known as Labour Day or International Workers Day in many places. In the US, we do that holiday at the beginning of September, so I'm confused at the very start. The tradition started in Australia to celebrate the fight for an 8-hour workday (huzzah!).
   

   

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2. For some, the day is a commemoration of the Haymarket Affair. Historical stuff... blah, blah, blah. Upshot: People hanged after being tried for shenanigans during a protest as part of a labor strike. Nasty stuff. Read more here.
   

   

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3. NeoPagans celebrate Beltane on May 1st. This holiday has ancient roots and was therefore squashed by the Christians who squashed every traditional holiday or festival by pretending it had something to do with Christianity. Beltane is originally Celtic (woot! shoutout to the ancestors!) and is a "cross-quarter day, celebrating the halfway mark between the Spring equinox and Summer Solstice. It's also a Wiccan Sabbat; Blessed Be. Cool info on Beltane can be found here as a starting point.
   

   

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4. Romans used to celebrate the Spring with the festival of Flora (or Floralia), the goddess of flowers. Sounds like a good idea to me!
   

   

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5. Bonfires are lit (and sometimes danced around - maybe naked) to celebrate May Day. This goes back to the Celts and also to Germans, who celebrated Walpurgis Night (Walpurgisnacht). May 1st is when Saint Walpurga was cannonized. And so we dance...  ???? I don't get it either, but hey, any reason to dance around a bonfire seems like a good one. Clothes on for me, folks - this is a family show.
   

   

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6. Everybody and their mother seemed to celebrate May Day not just with large fires, but also with ribbons wrapped around a tall pole or a tree. Since this May Pole custom seems to show up all over the place, I am not clear who can claim that they started the whole deal. Regardless, I wish they still did May Poles here in the States. I never got a chance to do it, but my Mom did when she was a kid.
   

   

   Are we having fun yet?
   
   

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7. In Germany, you might have at some point received a tree wrapped in ribbons or streamers. It would show up in your yard overnight as some kind of tree flirtation tool. Pray the streamers weren't white, which meant someone didn't like you. Oh, snap!
   

   

   If this... er, whatever it is, shows up on my doorstep I'm calling the cops.

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8. Another little tradition I'd like to see rejuvenated would be May Baskets: pretty little baskets filled with flowers and treats. They were left on a doorstep or tied to a fence or doorknob, secretly. If you caught whomever dropped off your basket you were due a kiss!
   

   

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9. My mother speaks of her desire to be Queen of the May. The May Queen got to walk at the front of the May Day parade (parades! bring those back, too!). Let's please let Mom have her dream and not tell her that British folk used to say the Queen of the May would be put to death after the festivities wrapped up. That would just bum her out.
   

   

   Not my mother.
   

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10. Christianity appropriated most of these non-Christian traditions and made it all about Mary, she of the virgin birth, Mother of Jesus and so forth. That's fine and all, she deserves her day, too, but does that mean we can't have parades and baskets full of perfume flowers?
    

    

    Mary is sad because she didn't get a parade.
    Madonna in Sorrow (Sassoferrato) via

And that's about all I've got in me on May Day. Let's take a break and look at a pretty wedding bouquet you may have seen the other day. It belongs to the Duchess of Cambridge (we used to call her Kate Middleton).

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The Duchess' bouquet had only flowers grown in England and Lily of the Valley were prominent. Very pretty. It's the "shield" shape, which I read somewhere and didn't know was A Thing.

I suppose it's important to figure out what Lily of the Valley has to do with anything May Day related. Let's Keep Calm and Carry On...

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Lily of the Valley. Muguet. Our Lady's Tears. May lily. May bells. Ladder to Heaven.


This beautiful woodland flower, whichever name you choose to use, has broad, beautiful green leaves, a slender stalk, and drips tiny white bells. I love the sweet delicate counterpoint of the blooms which contrast so nicely with the strong and sturdy greenery!

As pretty as the Lily of the Valley may be, it's 100% poisonous, from root to leaf to flower. Even the red berries that show up are toxic. Note to self: don't snack on Kate Middleton's bouquet.

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Our Lady's Tears? Strange name for this plant. It apparently came from Mary's tears as she wept over her son (The Son) as he hung on the cross. Her tears dropped and bloomed as this flower. Or... maybe they were from Eve's tears as she wept her way out of the Garden of Eden. Religious myths differ, as they often do.


The Lily of the Valley's scientific name, majalis or maialis, means "of May".¹   Maybe this explain why the French sell muguet on the first of May? 


Here's a fun little snippet on a blog about the French and the selling of the muguet. Also on this blog you can find out how to pronounce muguet, which I must admit I was butchering in my mind (but thankfully hadn't said out loud).

Which brings us to a fairly reasonable tie-in between May Day and Lilly of the Valley. Whew!

Selling LotV in France on May Day. It's a French thing. You wouldn't understand.

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What does it smell like?
Here's the ellaborate answer, as far as I could dig up: sweet and floral. Illuminating. I personally haven't smelled "wild" Lily of the Valley. Perfumeshrine describes the scent as "a green floral with rosy-lemony nuance." Further, it instructs, the Lily of the Valley is used in perfumery to "open up" a fragrance.²

If you can share more details on the sweet floral scent of muguet, please chime in comment-wise!

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On the hunt for Lily of the Valley scent...

I have tried only a few LotV perfumes ("LotV" is perfumista shorthand for the flower being discussed - see how "with it" I am?).

Today, I wore Floris' Lily of the Valley. I pretty much had this thought process: Nice. Sweet. Floral. It smelled familiar. I liked the nice lemon-and-green opening of this perfume, and then the whole thing faded to a soft and soapy floral aura. Light. Not something I'd wear, but certainly pretty.

I also recently tried Andy Tauer's Carillon Pour Un Ange, which is his LotV scent. I hate to admit this, but I really didn't care for it. It's the only "fail" I've experienced in the line so far, which tempts me to try it again, soon. Maybe tomorrow. To my nose, Carillon Pour Un Ange was no sweet waltz, it was a clunky Elaine dance. Well, they can't all be winners.
PS: It's not you, it's me. See a zillion raving reviews of Carillon Pour Un Ange here.

A few of my favorite perfumes, while not LotV soliflores, do have the note listed. For example: Chamade (Guerlain), No. 19 (Chanel), Miss Dior (Dior). Who knew?

Lucky for me, there are 292 scents listed in the Basenotes directory that have Lily of the Valley listed as a note. Surely they aren't all soliflores, but maybe comparing a few will give me more of a sense of familiarity with the note.

Suggested Lily of the Valley-centric scents:

• Diorissimo (Dior), the primo LotV perfume, created by Edmound Roudnitska in 1956.
  Notes: greens, bergamot, lily of the valley, ylang ylang, rosewood, amaryllis, boronia, jasmine, and sandalwood, and civet.
• Muget des Bois (Coty)
• Muguet (Guerlain), which is released once a year only on May 1st. This years bottle apparently cost $500. You can read about it on PurfumeShrine.
• le Muguet (Annick Goutal)
• Jessica McClintock
• Lily of the Valley (Penhaligon's)

There's also a lovely list of LotV perfumes on PerfumeShrine.

So, do you May Day? Partake in the naked bonfire dancing? Buy muguet on May 1st? Have a favorite Lily of the Valley scent? 

I confess, most of my interest in the day stems from the birth of my second daughter, Lulu, on May 1st two years ago! She is my Queen of the May!

See also: May Day

Happy Earth Day, you dirty hippie! (A discourse on patchouli)

It's Earth Day! I thought it would be a great day to talk about a nice earthy perfume ingredient. I hope you enjoy reading it. Happy Earth Day!

Patchouli.

What do you think of when I say the word?

For years and years, when I heard the word "patchouli" I would cringe. If you asked me, it was one of the worst scents I'd ever encountered, second only to (and in my mind not dissimilar to) the smell of something wet and rotting.

My experiences with this stench went pretty much like you'd expect: I smelled it on hippie wannabes and in New Age shops.

I studied Fine Arts in college. I'm fairly certain part of the curriculum was donning long skirts and bell-laden anklets and listening to The Grateful Dead. I'm not sure that was in the course book, but I can't say with certainty because those years are kinda foggy.

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Yes, I saw Jerry perform. Several times. What an experience Dead shows were! I almost preferred to go hang out in the parking lot to actually going into the arena. In part, this was because the real fun happened out there in the lot: people watching, shopping, meeting interesting characters, watching people dance with ribbons or fire, the friendlines and warm feelings... Definitely worth the price of getting onto the grounds with no ticket! Besides, by the time I got to Jerry he was forgetting his own lyrics. The songs were no longer nearly-endless due to the band blissfully losing themselves in the rhythm. Rather, Jerry and the boys seemed to get stuck in a song with no idea how to get out, like a needle in a record groove.




This aimlessness that seemed to only suit those who tripped their way into the show simply wasn't my thing. As sad as the decay of a once strong band was to me, worse was the stench of rumpled tie-dyed shirts as they ambled past. Each time one of those long-haired and vacant-eyed girls would spin, she'd kick up a cloud of rank and oily nastiness. I imagined the reason most of them twirled with their eyes shut was to stop them from tearing at their own stink.

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To me, this was patchouli. Oily, high-pitched, shrill, and not smelling like any natural thing I'd ever smelled. This patchouli lay restlessly over unwashed skin, co-mingled with goodness-knows-what kind of cheap, synthetic musk oils, and rose in clouds that merged with cheap pot and incense sticks.


Patchouli. I wasn't a fan.

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I seem to be rambling worse than Jerry in 1991, so let's flip the calendar a few years. Setting: 2008. I'm just starting to get "into" perfumes. Not a full-fledged perfumista yet, but writing a beauty blog has exposed me to new fragrances. The power of Google enabled me to quickly learn more about these pretty bottles coming my way.

I also searched for the notes on favorite perfumes I'd worn in the past. Imagine my surprise when a certain note kept coming up! What grounded the fruity blast of Belle en Rykiel (Sonia Rykiel), the peachy florals in Chinatown (Bond No. 9), the fresh explosion of my longtime love Colors de Benetton? Patchouli. What resided in the base of the oh-so-swoonworthy cologne wafting from most guys I knew in high school (I'm talking about Drakkar Noir, of course)? Patchouli.

In fact, patchouli is in quite a few perfumes. As in, a zillion. Many. Maybe even most! It's an essential piece of the chypre formula. It's in many perfumes in the oriental family of scents. It's earthy qualities pair well with florals and add a solid counterpoint to sweet scents.

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Patchouli is an herb. A mint. The bush grows to two or three feet tall and sports small light pink blooms. Native to Asia, it's now cultivated in China, Indonesia, India, the Philippines, Vietnam and West Africa.

Patchouli, or "patch" as it's sometimes fondly called, was used long ago as a moth and bug repellant, tucked in-between cloth exported from India. In aromatherapy, it's used for balancing, mind clarification, and as an antidepressant. It may perform as an antifungal, cell rejuvenator, antiseptic, appetite-suppressant, and headache reliever.

Patchouli oil is extracted by steam distillation from either the dry leaves or from fresh. As the oil ages, it mellows and becomes more rounded, smoother. The scent profile for patchouli has been described beautifully on the blog Perfume by Nature, so I'll share it with you here:

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Dark woody, sweet amber, earthy, musty with a touch of fruit and spice  (lighter in iron free version). Aged Patchouli is softer than fresh, which can have a sharp, biting by note to it.

So, what this all boils down to is an imense eye-opener for me! Patchouli doesn't have to evoke sweaty, bearded men who slather the oil into their dreadlocks. It doesn't belong only to those channeling the 60's or dancing under the influence of LSD dreams.

Flip the calender a few mote times and patchouli is present in my perfume collection in a prominent way.

My next bottle purchase will be Calamity J, a smooth patchouli + iris, amber, musk, and "vanilla infusion" by Juliette Has a Gun. I've torn through 3 samples and it's still bewitching me; I use it to de-stress and relax. I also adore patchouli in Chinatown, which is going to show up in my house as a bottle once my seemingly endless stash of Bond's "bonbon" samples is gone. 

Similarly, I'm repeatedly reaching for my vials of a few others:

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1. Coromandel* (Chanel) - clean and elegant patch
2. Borneo 1834* (Serge Lutens) - dirty patch with cocoa
3. Patchouli Patch (L'Artisan) - velvety patch
4. Voleur de Roses* (L'Artisan) - thick and fluffy patch wrapped around a red rose
5. Karma (Lush) - orange and spicy patch, somewhat of a throwback headshop scent, updated (I prefer the soap but the solid is nice, too)
6. Patchouli 24 (Le Labo) - Leathery patch
7. Angel (Thierry Mugler) - chocolate-dipped praline patch
   
   *full bottle-worthy

It's also in these favorites: Dune (Christian Dior), Miss Dior (Christian Dior), Jicky (Guerlain), Enjoy (Jean Patou), Prada (the original), Musks Kublai Khan (Lutens), Flowerbomb (Viktor and Rolf), and countless others.

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Am I showing too much New Age-y touchy feeliness when I say that a well-executed perfume with a creamy, aged patchouli really speaks to me? Am I a having a flashback when I nuzzle my wrist to get another sniff of an earthy, clod-of-dirt-bearing patch? Is it the munchies making me crave more of patchouli's chocolatey facet? I don't know the answer, but as long as the patchouli isn't that cheap crap that I remember (and can still be found in some New Age or "health food" shops), well, sign me up! I dream of trying an aged patchouli oil.

Jerry Garcia has moved on to the great big gig in the sky, and I'm long past my flirtation with the hippie way of life. What I have now, though, is an affinity for deep, earthy scents; mellow music; tie-dye; and long-winded rambling. And, apparently, patchouli.

Do you patchouli? Which are your favorites? Which should I try next? What's your favorite Dead song?

header image via; Dead montage image sources: peace hippie, hippie hands, proud hippie, love hippies, The Dead.

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Trésor by Lancome: Treasure or Tragedy? (a perfume review)

Trésor has been around a long time. I've been around longer, so how come I've never tried it?

I have no good answer for that, but at least now I've rectified the situation.

Despite never having spritzed this well-known scent, it turns out I was quite familiar with it! I must be the only woman I know who didn't partake at the Lancôme counter. At first sample I was struck by that "oh, that's what I was smelling" feeling. There's no specific woman on whom I can pin this scent. More likely it's the scent of the masses - those faceless women you pass in crowds, stand next to in the elevator, and hold the door for at the mall.

That's not a rant, by the way. Familiarity doesn't equal "bad" -  at least not all the time. I mean, many of us recognize Chanel No. 5 and Shalimar when they walk by, and those perfumes aren't exactly shlubs.

Back to Trésor... On me, it's mostly two phases. The first is an apricot-peach layered over rose. This lasts an hour or so. The next phase is a powdered peachy amber, which is a lot better than it sounds.

How does it wear, you ask? Long and hard! If you spray heavily, you will find yourself surrounded by people suffering 90's flashbacks. Injuries may be incurred. Sillage is formidable at these higher doses, and not too shabby when Trésor is administered judiciously. Tenacity ranks in the "eons" range.

I am a fan of powdery ambers, and the peachy nuance is a nice twist compared to others in my collection. My sample was of the modern Trésor, which is apparently not nearly as nice as the vintage. What is?

If I had to pinpoint a mood for Trésor , I'd probably use the trite label "romantic". Personally, I look forward to wearing it on my next antique-hunting date with hubby. It feels lighthearted and flirty to me, though I'm sure the powdery aspect (with rose, no less) gets this one the dreaded (and stupid) Old Lady label from some. Meh - their loss!
 

Do you treasure Trésor? What are your feelings about peach notes and ambery drydowns? Do you like peach cobbler?

House: Lancôme
Perfume: Trésor
Perfumer: Sophia Grojsman
Notes: apricot blossom, rose, lilac, iris, peach, amber, sandalwood, musk, vanilla
Released: 1990
Sample: sample provided by friend

Final Word: A real peach.

images: a; b

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.

Going green!!!! Vert pour Madame (Dawn Spencer Hurwitz: Parfums des Beaux Arts

I won a dram bottle of DSH's newest (limited edition) scent Vert pour Madame. It's green. It's a chypre. It's stunningly gorgeous!

Galbanum opens the show but hyacinth steps in too. The rest of the florals are, to my nose, well-blended to the point that I can't distinguish each note. Not that I'm trying yet; I'm still enjoying our introduction.

Lower and later: sandalwood, moss. Fresh, earthy and natural. Surprise late-game players are musk and civet which add a lovely nuance to the drydown. This earthy muskiness brings Vert pour Madame into my skin, melting.
 
Vert pour Madame is as striking as most green chypres I've tried, but she's a bit more sexy. Her galbanum is never shrill or pushy, even when at it's peak. Nor is it icy, bitter, or terribly grassy.

This madame may have started the night in an elegant and formal LBD, but by the end of the evening she's shaken out her chignon, ditched the heels, and slipped into something a little more comfortable. She's a natural beauty made all the more gorgeous by being oblivious to her own power.

Inspired by the utterly chic and sophisticated style of the late 1970's and early 1980's classic green floral chypre, Vert pour Madame has power but more than that, she has depth. She's achieved it. As well, Vert pour Madame is the perfect harbinger of Spring with notes of hyacinth, jonquil and lily of the valley sewn into the earth with cedarwood, patchouli and moss.

Are you a fan of green chypres? DSH? I am (of both) so this prize has made me a happy girl. Which are your favorite chypres? Green scents? DSH scents? What would you like to see next from DSH?

  

PS: A special thank you to DSH, not only for the contest and great perfume, but also for the sweet handwritten card, a few samples, and the replacement sample of The Afternoon (definitely getting a bigger size of this sweet, happy, casual floral with the amazing mimosa note!).