… after several weeks of study in my perfume-cation, that:
Although I appreciate Andy Tauer’s Vetiver Dance, it is too strange and sour for me.
His Zeta is not for me either. I can’t smell it (much).
But Reverie au Jardin continues to intrigue and delight. I now have full bottle, no regrets.
Sonoma Scent Studio’s Wood Voilet smells hideous to me.
And I find SSS’s Jour Ensoleille too sharp and piney. I really wanted to like this one, and I did at first. Darn.
I like Champagne de Bois, so why don’t I wear it more often? I don’t know.
Hermès’ Kelly Caleche is starting to smell like fly-spray on me. I keep a sample vial in my sponge bag as a fall-back fragrance when I’m travelling. I have never used it for that purpose even once. As I packed my bag this afternoon for Melbourne, I looked at it and thought – nope. I think you are history.
It’s a pity but also a relief to finally admit that some fragrances I thought I liked, I just don’t. But there are plenty I still do like.
Such as the now discontinued Femme Jolie, from SSS. It’s better I think in winter, when the cool air subdues the sticky fruit and brings out the cedar.
My summer is not complete without Olympic Orchids’ A Midsummer Day’s Dream, Kenzo’s Eau de Fleur de Magnolia, and Givenchy’s Eau de Givenchy. Funny to think that Eau de Givenchy came out in 1980 and had to jostle for attention with the Godzilla fragrances of that era. If it had been released fourteen years later as a unisex it might have given cK One a run for its money.
Speaking of department store standards, Christian Dior’s Dune is wonderful, and comforting, in a weird way. However, unlike Eau de Givenchy, which I discovered in 1996, Dune is new to me. I wonder how it will behave in really hot weather?
Elie Saab Le Parfum is probably too high-pitched and bright for me. Strangely, I seem to like it, sometimes.
I am trying not to fall in love with Bottega Veneta. I look away every time I pass the tester in my local department store.
Shoot me down in flames, but Chanel No 19 Poudre suits me. It does not dethrone the incomparable original, but it works well on my skin as an easy, elegant veil of scent. (There, I’ve said it. Where do I hand in my perfumista card?) Still, I do admit that Poudre has very little going on in the base section. It is all violins, flutes and oboes, and not much throaty grunt from the double basses, or oompah from the trombones. Even Eau de Givenchy has more oompah than this, but it has (or had) oakmoss in it. So does (did) cK One, even.
I’m to Melbourne tomorrow on my eatin’, drinkin’, shoppin’ & sniffin’ trip, for eight days. I don’t have a laptop, iPad, or iPhone, so will rely on the computer at my friends’ house. I will answer comments, but perhaps irregularly.
Bye for now!