The last few weeks in Oregon, before moving to Texas, lay somewhere between Purgatory and Lake of Fire on my Dante-meter; while in one sense I’d like to move on and never think back on them again, I’d be leaving out the small bits of joy that found their way into the inferno: care packages from two of my favorite fragrant fairy-godmothers.
From Fragrant-Fairy-Godmother Birgit:
Amouage Honour Man: Mr. Howe insists that it smells like chocolate. I insist that it smells woody.
Serge Lutens Douce Amére: reminded me of Amaranthine + black licorice + a slight buttery facet. Neat!
Yves Rocher Coconut: For scientific purposes, it has been confirmed (once again) that men love coconut. This is a really lovely, “spray with abandon, all ye who enter here” kind of scent 😉
Guerlain Gourmand Coquin: chocolately-ganache, SWEET, and delicious. Naff lasting power, and just a little too much. Kind of like eating that second truffle: it looked so good, but you feel a little nauseous afterward (you knew better!).
Illuminum White Gardenia Petals: had a dabber vial before, but gave it a full spray wearing before jumping on the treadmill. Running requires a different kind of scent, and WGP held up surprisingly well—the hot, sweaty skin gave it lift-off that it lacked while I was just bumbling around the house, and creating an imaginary, idllyic setting.
Piguet Bandit: Leather!
From Fragrant-Fairy-Godmother Tara:
Dior Eau Noir: Masala curry cologne, where have you been all my life? Sweet and spicy, then dry and spicy, I would not be opposed to one of those giant bottles sitting on my desk. The Dior collection continues to surprise and delight, and I’d be happy to own a full bottle of each of the ones I’ve tried (even New Look, which shouldn’t be my thing at all!).
PG Psychotrope: which came with the following note, “as you deal with scary scents better than me!” If that doesn’t pique ones interest, what could?? Cannabis smells vaguely of hippies, as it happens.
Dior Granville: windswept greenery and sex. Wonderful.
Ormonde Jane Ta’if: which I will finally be able to wear with abandon— when I was still unsure how I felt about Amouage Lyric Woman, Ta’if swept me away. It’s a terrifically sophisticated rose, and belongs in the collection of every rose-ho.
These fragrant treasures lifted my mood, but even more than their ephemeral beauty, the friendship that inspired their arrival warms my heart most. Thank you lovely ladies!