Bête Noire

Perfumes I strongly dislike (but for whatever reason decided to write about)

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Saturday Question: Have You Had a Change of Heart About Any of Your Perfumes Recently?

After a series of “favorite perfume” Saturday Questions, let’s do the opposite.

Saturday Question on Undina's Looking Glass

Saturday Question #172:

Have You Had a Change of Heart About Any of Your Perfumes Recently?

We’re not talking about perfumes that never worked for you or those that you never got because you weren’t sure if you cared for them. The question is about perfume that you used to like and still have in your collection but no longer feel attracted to.

A bonus question: Do you plan to keep it?

My Answer

For many years, I don’t remember significantly changing my mind about my perfumes: once I got any into my collection, I would feel attached to it and happily wear it occasionally. But in the last year, something has changed, and I periodically surprise myself with the realization that I don’t enjoy any longer perfume I just put on.

The most recent disappointment was Penhaligon’s Ostara. It has never been my top favorite, but I liked wearing it in Spring. I sprayed it a couple of weeks ago and almost immediately regretted it. It wasn’t awful, but for some reason that day, it felt “off,” and I could barely wait for it to dissipate.

I don’t plan to do anything about Ostara for now: I’ll try it again next year to see if I would like it again. Since it had been discontinued and can’t be repurchased, I don’t want to regret later parting with it on a whim.

 

How about you?

Have You Had a Change of Heart About Any of Your Perfumes Recently?

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Second Sunday Samples: Creed Aventus for Her and Floralie

Not much changed since I told a story of my first Creed perfume – Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie: I haven’t tried any new perfumes from the brand and haven’t got into my collection any more of those few that I’ve tried before. Mostly, for the same reasons that I’d explained in the above-linked post.

What is even stranger, I don’t think I’ve ever tried probably the most famous of their masculine perfumes – Aventus. Mostly, because I felt some type of a resentment towards the crowd of the fans of this perfume.

I wouldn’t have probably tried any of the two perfumes I’m covering in today’s post, but they were a part of the epic GWP, about which I wrote recently. So, here we are. For the explanation about the ratings, see Sea Star Ratings.

 

Three and Half Sea Stars

Aventus for Her was created in 2016 by Olivier Creed. Official notes (from the brand’s site): apple, pink pepper, patchouli, bergamot, rose, sandalwood, styrax, musk, peach, black currant, amber and Ylang Ylang.

Despite its “for her” designation, in my opinion, it is as feminine as a boyfriend shirt on a woman (but less sexy). It develops better on a warmed skin (on sunny afternoon), and that’s when I can clearly smell the promised apple and black currant – both of the “perfume-y” artificial type, not too realistic (reminds me of Parfums de Marley’s creations). On a “cold skin” (in the morning), I can mostly smell patchouli and some spices. It smells like a modern perfume: more artificial than natural, spicy and sweet. I can’t say that it smells cheap, but it doesn’t strike me as extremely luxurious either.

 

Two Sea Stars

Floralie was created in 2018, also by Olivier Creed. Notes (from the brand’s site): marigold, Bulgarian rose, tuberose, lilac, lily of the valley, amber, cedarwood, amber and musk rose.

Unlike Aventus for Her, Floralie smells better when it’s cooler: it opens with a pleasant floral bouquet. And then it goes into bitterly green territory (and when it’s hot, it jumps directly to that phase without any discernible flowers). I do not like Floralie and would not wear it, but at the same time I think that it is a better perfume than Aventus for Her.

Creed Aventus for Her and Floralie Samples

Image: my own

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Saturday Question: Which Perfume is Your Archenemy?

I waited for a while before asking this question: there is so much negativity in our daily life that I didn’t want to extend any negativity into this Saturday Question space. But I figures that the whole last week was about perfumes we love, starting with the previous Saturday Question “What Are Your Top N Perfumes?”, followed by the post about Puredistance Rubikona, a new love for me (just a reminder – all giveaways are open until the end of Sunday), and crowned by “Which 20 Would Portia Keep?” And this is not even counting preceding Vanessa’s and Tara’s posts and then trailing post by Ines.    So, I figures that with all this perfume love going around, we can talk about perfumes that are wrong for us with the capital “W.”

 

Saturday Question on Undina's Looking Glass

 

Saturday Question #35:

Which Perfume is Your Archenemy?

In our hobby we come across many different perfumes – those that we love, like, tolerate, dislike or even hate. But this question is about perfumes that we wanted to like for one reason or other but just cannot. Is there perfume that you know is good and loved by others, that you’d love to love and approached it more than once hoping to get a different outcome – and still, it is not for you?

My Answer

There is more than one perfume that fits that fir this question, but today I want to mention Guerlain Shalimar. It was a busy week for me, so I didn’t have time to do any statistical analysis of perfumes named by all the bloggers and commenters on those posts mentioned above, but I know that Shalimar was mentioned by at least four people (maybe more). But it is not the only reason I thought of it.

For a while now I’ve been tempted to by Shalimar parfum in the limited edition Baccarat bottle. For me that bottle is the epitome of perfect perfume representation. I stop myself because it is insane to buy an expensive bottle of something that I won’t be wearing. But I want it to (I know, sacrilege) display it on my dresser.

As to perfume itself, even before I got that bizarre idea of buying Shalimar for its bottle, I approached it dozen of times in hope that my tastes changed. Still no. But that bottle…

 

Guerlain Shalimar

 

Which Perfume is Your Archenemy?

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Narth’s Musings: Perfume’s Power

I’m sure we’ve all talked about this before, but it’s been on my mind of late: negative scent associations that mean a perfume will never work for us. Sometimes it’s obvious, a person we found difficult drenched themselves in a scent, and now we don’t care for it. But often it’s a more subtle and layered experience.

The sight of the black Lanvin Arpege bottle with its gold embossed mother and child will always make me feel a combination of guilt, sadness and anxiety. My mother wore Arpege, and this bottle has an almost claustrophobic effect on me. I prefer my perfume to be, at its very worst, dreadfully dull. I do not like it when perfume triggers a horrible flashback of feelings, a sudden reminder that yes, you have these feelings, and here they are in a big feeling vomit, enjoy! Many years ago, I bought a bottle of Lanvin Arpege after convincing myself I would redeem it, and it would be only about good associations. Sadly, the mother and child motif was too much, and when I finally swapped it away, I was relieved. I think if you had a great relationship with your mom, and she wore this scent the bottle would be the sweetest thing! Maybe you can’t bottle maternal love, but for myself personally Lanvin Arpege mockingly bottles the absence of it. I do not have a rational relationship with this perfume.

Another Odor Horribilis for me is anything with a whiff of campfire. I like my smoke scents to smell like an ashtray left rotting under the couch in a sharehouse. The moment we trek out into the woods with a bonfire burning I shut down hard. Having lived through several bushfires and known beautiful folk who didn’t make it, I absolutely cannot abide this smell, this burning, burning smell. It will never be a scent of pleasure again. I do remember a time in my childhood when it was one of those “best smells ever” and all about camping, singing and eating too much sugar… But that’s another Narth. There is a Naomi Goodsir fragrance I’ve never tried because of the bonfire note. As the SA was enthusiastically listing the notes, I said “NO” rather too firmly and then sheepishly mentioned bushfires. She immediately understood, and we moved on to something happily floral.

Perfume is powerful stuff. I’ve had several long perfume breaks where I stopped thinking about it at all, but negative associations would still throw themselves at me against my will. Smell, the sense most people value the least, has been busy building a personal history with us all our lives.

I’d love to hear your own associations, if you want to share, of scents you would rather not revisit.

Bushfire Smoke AZ

Photo by me, during our long summer of bushfire smoke. This was reality for many weeks and the smell filled the house.

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Fun in the Car with Youth Dew

Even though there were at least a couple of guest writers on Undina’s Looking Glass, over the last couple of years I was a sole contributor, so for a while I will be reminding my readers to look at the By line (Undina).

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“You’re a perfume snob”. So said my friend as we drove to lunch together. I was quite taken aback, “What, no! I’m not!” but my friend continued on seemingly enjoying herself. “Oh yes, you are, you are absolutely a perfume snob!”

This was hard to take, especially so as I was asphyxiating under a roiling cloud of Estee Lauder‘s Youth Dew, my friend’s favourite perfume. I had given her a bottle as a gift, even though I feared being in just this situation, trapped in a car full of Youth Dew, which I very much disliked. Neither youthful nor dewy to my nose, I thought it did not suit my friend at all but she loved it.

Trying to prove my lack of snobbery I informed her that I was wearing Britney Spears Curious in Control (a pleasant apple custard scent), so therefore I could not possibly be a snob. She laughed, “Oh, you’re 100% a snob!” Ugh, this was getting uncomfortable. I started worrying that offering up Britney as an example of my willingness to embrace  the cheapest celebuscent was actually proof of my snobbery, “Some of my best friends are celbuscents!” But then I got a grip and realized I didn’t have to prove myself to anyone. The word my friend was probably looking for was aficianado aka someone who knows too much and talks too much on a topic other people don’t deem worthy of a conversation. Sometimes (who am I kidding, most of the time) it’s better to just agree that Youth Dew is enchanting without harping on about oakmoss. It’s straight back to my childhood when I thought spouting facts about krill was a good response to a kid saying “penguins are nice”.

I love perfume and I love smells, some days it feels like I love every single smell in the world. I try to appear a little less of a weirdo, to pocket the leaf or cheese rind or odd flinty rock and not inhale them deeply in front of people. I think many of us who started out on this perfume journey because something smelled pretty have ended up here. Nose deep in a stout thinking about oud. Analyzing funk and and oils and laughing when connections are made. Once your brain and your nose start having deep and meaningfuls, there’s no going back.

So I must declare I am not a snob. I am just someone with too many facts and too many opinions on too many topics and one of them is perfume.

 

Gold Plated Bathroom

 

Photo is of my GOLD PLATED BATHROOM. Not really, but did you know that pure gold has no smell of its own?

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Spreading the Negative Word-of-Mouth: Perfumarie

First thing first: if you ever decide to buy anything from Perfumarie, do it at your own risk. I will never do it again.

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A couple of months ago I shared with you how I talked myself into buying perfume when I learned that the brand was going out of business. I was so excited to find one of the last bottles of DelRae’s Coup de Founre out there! I didn’t even think about waiting for a sale or a discount for the fear of missing on it altogether. I should have.

I could have written a couple of pages describing in details how it went on, but I’ll give you a cliff notes version. Perfumarie sent me a brand-new bottle of rancid perfume, refused to deal with it and, when confronted via PayPal conflict resolution center, pretended to respond long enough to satisfy formal requirements but had never addressed the actual issue. PayPal’s resolution was that they couldn’t conclude that the “product was significantly not as described,” so I couldn’t use their “buyer protection.” And since I was leaving for my long trip, I just didn’t have any energy or time left to see if my credit card would be more reasonable. As the result, I’m out of $150 and acquired a bottle that isn’t that nice to use it even on my bottle display.

So, all I can do is to leave a word out there: in my opinion, Perfumarie behaved dishonestly. They didn’t argue that the product was fine (I offered to send it so that they could see it themselves – and they, positioning themselves as a “Discovery studio,” should have been able to tell that my bottle was off), they didn’t suggest any remedy to the situation. They chose a one-time profit over potential long-term relationship with me as a customer. So be warned.

 

Rusty and DelRae Coup de Foundre

 

In addition to plainly getting my hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of negative publicity to Perfumarie (I realize, I’m a tiny blogger but karma, you know…), I wanted to discuss the situation in principle to see what you think, and whether you agree with my arguments.

We all had our share of perfumes that turned while in our possession, as well as vintage “finds” on eBay or estate sales that weren’t what we expected them to be. But buying vintage perfumes and hoping for the best, we acknowledge the risk and are prepared to write off the losses. But what about getting a full-priced brand-new bottle from a real store (either with just online or, especially, with both B&M and online presence)?

What I tried to argue both with Perfumarie and PayPal: while I understand a general return policy for beauty and personal care products, and I, for one, wouldn’t want to buy any product opened and returned (though, in this particular case, I even suggested to Perfumarie that I would take an open tester if they still had it and thought that it was fine), the policy shouldn’t apply to the case of a spoiled product since after being returned that product should not be sold to anyone – be it opened or sealed. And since to determine that this type of a product is spoiled one must open and try it, doing so, logically, cannot void warranty/right to return the product if it cannot be used as intended.

It is impossible to determine that a sealed product without an expiration date printed on it is spoiled. And we all know that some perfumes stay stable for decades, so it’s hard to predict when any of them would go off. So, I understand that, in general, a store cannot really know that they are selling something that is past its prime. But a consumer has even less information to go on by: a store would at least know when they got a batch, how they stored it, and whether there were any other complaints about that batch or that brand. All-in-all, while it is a loss, I would expect it to be a store’s loss, not an individual buyer’s one.

On a separate point, as much as I am against what IFRA does to perfume industry and would prefer it (and similar agencies) to stay away from regulating what can go into perfumes (bar really dangerous ingredients), I would love if one of them would protect our rights by making beauty, cosmetics and perfume companies put production dates on packaging – as Givenchy did with one of my favorite LE perfumes (by the way, it’s still fine, 12 years later).

 

Givenchy Amarige Mimosa 2007

 

Images: my own

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Yuzu Overload

I came across Demeter Fragrance Library more than 10 years ago while searching for a linden perfume. First I was inspired by the number of different perfumes they offered (as I was researching the brand online) and then completely disappointed by the simplicity of their creations, once I tried some of them at Sephora. Since then I tried several of them, even bought a couple (they were $5/30 ml at TJ Max, so I couldn’t resist but I use them as a room spray), but since then I never considered that brand again for personal perfume.

I’ve never been a huge marmalade fan. Most likely, because those that I tried were too over-processed to the degree where it was just sugar syrup soured by citric acid. But also because it was so far from what I used to love as a child. When I was growing up, lemons were scarce: as with a lot of other things and produce, one had to be in the right place at the right time to buy some. So, of course, nobody would be buying just one or two lemons if they were to happen upon them. But since lemons did not keep well for too long, I remember my grandmother slicing them, mixing with sugar and storing in a jar. And since no heat was involved into creating these preserves, they still smelled and tasted very natural.

 

Citrus and Honey Tea

 

So when a friend offered something that was called Yuzu Hot & Cold Tea and looked like most citrus store-bought marmalade I’d tried before, I was skeptical, but being a polite guest I got a couple of spoons… WOW. I’ve never eaten or smelled a real yuzu fruit before, so I have no comparison point, but that Yuzu “tea” was so fragrant that I wasn’t sure whether I should eat it or slather over my pulse points.

Since then couple of times my friend managed to get me that “tea” from some San Francisco store, but we don’t see each other often enough to make it a steady delivery channel, so I tried to find it around where I live first and then online – without much luck. I don’t remember how exactly I came across Yuzu Marmalade on Amazon, but I decided to give it a try – even though it was a different jar (much smaller) and it wasn’t “tea.” Luckily for me, it was exactly the same taste and aroma. So now I keep ordering it online, even though $11-12 for a 10oz (300g) jar seems a little steep.

Recently, while running a search to see if any other online retailers had it cheaper or in a bigger jar, I discovered that Demeter had perfume called Yuzu Marmalade. Of course I wanted to try it! While I was thinking of checking if Sephora still carried the line, a kind NST’er offered to send me her small spray bottle of this perfume, with which she wasn’t that enamored. From her I got also the idea of the post title, as she wrote in her note:

Not my favorite frag, but I like the experiment of yuzu marmalade overload–in fragrance and on toast.

Despite not that glowing recommendation, I had high hopes: not because Demeter makes great perfumes, but because how hard could it be to create an artificial citrus scent representing just one note, right? Demeter did it so many times to other notes, often relatively convincing even if not the most naturally smelling. I’m surprised to report that Demeter failed miserably: not only Yuzu Marmalade wasn’t even close to that zesty and aromatic marmalade that I had in my mind’s nose, but it barely might be classified as a citrus scent. All I can smell is that over-processed orange marmalade’s flat sweetness. Extremely disappointing.

I’m not even sure if I really want to wear yuzu soliflore, but I would love to find perfume where it’s recognizable. Any recommendations?

 

 

Images: Lemons from my friend’s recipe, (if you’re into cooking, I highly recommend looking through her blog); the rest – my own

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Second Sunday Samples: Berdoues Collection Grands Crus

Until recently I was familiar with Parfums Berdoues only from a couple of samples graciously sent to me by hajusuuri and Lucas’s (The Chemist in the Bottle) review. I haven’t seen this brand in any of the stores around or come across it during my recent European trip.

I didn’t know about their history, and, to tell you the truth, I don’t believe all that “since 1902 family owned” PR BS. I mean, I have no doubts that the brand was something owned by the family since whatever year it says but I doubt it was any perfume-related successful business before the current parent company decided they needed a “legitimate” niche brand under their wing. Not that it means anything to me one way or the other. It’s just a little curious how many brands with a century history started appearing in the recent years once the perfume industry started booming.

Anyway, this brand could have stayed just a record in my database if it weren’t for chocolatemarzipan, who mentioned how much she loved perfumes from Berdoues… just several dozen of times on NST, my blog and other places. So when I saw that Sephora online had that extremely appealing Discovery Set, I gave in.

Berdoues Perfumes Sampler

(see my new Sea Star Ratings explanation here)

Assam of India

The first time I tried it I immediately thought of one of my favorites – Jo Malone Assam & Grapefruit, which isn’t too surprising looking at the list of notes (here and going forward I dropped geographical descriptors): lemon, tea and sandalwood (Assam of India) vs. grapefruit, rhubarb, violet, Assam, cardamom, rose, almond, musk and patchouli (Assam & Grapefruit).

I tested them in parallel several times, and can confirm that they do smell similar, especially in the opening. Many years ago when I got Assam & Grapefruit as a gift, I wasn’t super-thrilled with it. Since then I changed my mind, and enjoy wearing it from time to time. So while I have it, I won’t need Assam of India. But since Jo Malone’s perfume was a limited edition, once my bottle is finished (or spoils), I won’t grieve much since Berdoues offers a perfect replacement – and Assam of India is priced much more reasonably.

Three and Half Sea Stars
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Somei Yoshino

I didn’t care for this perfume at all: it smells either nice but too simple or overly sweet and even unpleasant. Somei Yoshino might work better for you, so do not take my word – try it if you get a chance.

Official notes: shiso, patchouli and jasmine

One and Half Sea Stars
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Arz El-Rab

As it happens often, smelling perfume with a prominent note one immediately thinks of another perfume known for the same note. So while trying Arz El-Rab, I started drawing parallels between it and Diptyque Tam Dao. But since I own the latter, the next time I tested Arz El-Rab, I ran a wrist-by-wrist testing. And how it usually happens, being tested together, perfumes reveal both similarities and individuality. Arz El-Rab has an extra citrus in the opening (though it’s not mentioned in the short list of notes), has less oily cedar in the development and is sweeter in the drydown. I cannot smell iris, so those notes are clearly just for the general idea about perfume. It’s not bad at all – if you like cedar wood-centered perfumes.

Official notes: cedar, iris and ginger.

Three and Half Sea Stars
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Oud Al Sahraa

Since I rarely like agarwood perfumes, I tried Oud Al Sahraa mostly because I wanted to go through the complete set. I was pleasantly surprised: I liked it. It means that, most likely, Oud Al Sahraa’s agarwood isn’t real, which is a plus in my book. I do not smell anything citrus-y in this perfume though an Italian mandarin is declared as one of three revealed notes, and I think that I can smell what they call myrrh. I could wear Oud Al Sahraa myself and wouldn’t mind smelling it on my vSO, but I’m not sure it interests me enough to actually pursue it.

Three Sea Stars
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Rusty and Berdoues Sampler

Scorza di Sicilia

It smells not bad, though completely not what I expected looking at the box: it is very flowery when I thought it would be all citrus-y. It is sweeter than I wanted it to be and reminds me a little of air freshener. I retested Scorza di Sicilia three times, and I’m positive that I wouldn’t want to wear it beyond this testing.

Official notes: citron, cedar and vetiver.

One and Half Sea Stars
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Selva Do Brazil

First of all, I like the bottle (on the picture) and the box, in which my sample came: I think I have a shirt with a similar print. Selva Do Brazil starts green, even grassy with a hint of citrus. It settles down to a pleasant slightly woody skin scent. It is not “interesting,” “challenging” or any other epithet to similar effect one might use describing perfume. But if it works for you in its simplicity, you’ll unexplainably like it. Or it will seem too boring – so no blind buys, please.

You have to read this short but sweet review of Selva Do Brazil at Perfume Shrine!

Official notes: petit grain, gaiac wood and tonka bean.

Four Sea Stars
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Vanira Moorea

I can’t help it: Vanira Moorea reminds me of a tooth paste from my childhood so I cannot think of it as of a perfume. Our tooth pastes weren’t that great, I’m sure Vanira Moorea has much nicer ingredients but… In drydown it becomes just a vanilla perfume – not too great but not too bad either.

Official notes: orange, petit grain and vanilla.

Two Sea Stars
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Russkaya Kozha

Since a lot of leather perfumes are not my cup of tea, I didn’t expect much from this one but, I think, the sheer style of the Collection Grands Crus helped: despite its name, Russkaya Kozha (Russian Leather) doesn’t have that concentrated birch tar scent that is used to represent leather in many perfumes but it still evokes leather. Later in development it becomes sweeter (but not too much). It stays on my skin for hours – sheer, slightly smoky and with a hint of sweetness. Russkaya Kozha is one of those perfumes that are “office-safe” in a good way: it doesn’t project much to be offensive for others while it is not completely boring for the wearer.

I liked Russkaya Kozha very much, and I expect it to join my collection soon.

Official notes: juniper, cardamom and benzoin.

Four and Half Sea Stars
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In general, I liked this collection and think it’s a good addition to the perfume world. I can’t say one way or the other based on what I smell, but I do not believe that they are using natural ingredients – because of the price of perfumes and them insisting on listing just three notes while naming those with the location markers (e.g., oud wood from Malaysia). Does it matter to me? Not at that price. I think that this collection is a nice alternative to overpriced Jo Malone and Atelier Cologne perfumes – even though I like both brands. What Berdoues should do, in my opinion, is to produce smaller bottles (15-30 ml) keeping the same bottle and box design: I would gladly pay $35-$40 for a 30 ml bottle of at least two more perfumes in this collection while it’s hard for me to justify adding another 200 ml of perfumes to my wardrobe.

Rusty and Berdoues Sampler

Images: my own

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Second Sunday Samples: Grossmith Diamond Jubilee Bouquet and Amouage Blossom Love

Grossmith is another brand, with which I wasn’t familiar other than knowing the name. I’m not sure how I feel about old houses resurrection: usually the “nose” is different, old perfumes – even if the formulas survived – cannot be recreated exactly as they were because of the new regulations, and the packaging is also new. So, I’m not sure what exactly is being restored other than the name. Since this brand re-appeared recently, it hasn’t been represented widely in the U.S., and I probably wouldn’t have tested it if it weren’t for my trial subscription to ScentTrunk a couple of years ago.

Diamond Jubilee Bouquet starts with a very prominent iris, not carrot-y but rather powdery. In about 10 minutes iris gets weaker, and I get distinct carnation note. After that for hours it is just a really creamy and muted floral bouquet (which is quite fitting given the name) plus musk and maybe vanilla. The complete list – just in case you’re curious, and your nose is better than my: narcissus, lily-of-the-valley, citruses, carnation, iris, jasmine, rose, violet, vetiver, musk, amber, tonka bean, vanilla and hawthorn.

Diamond Jubilee Bouquet is very charming and pleasant. It is not perfume to fall in love with but I can hardly imagine anybody disliking it. As you can also get from the name, Grossmith created that perfume in 2012 to commemorate the event. “Limited Edition of 500 – available in UK only” was proudly stated on the brand’s site and repeated (without the “UK” part) on sites of several online stores that still carry the remaining stock of those “limited 500.” So either Grossmith keeps producing that “limited” perfume or they are still selling the five-year-old stock. It is not a bad perfume but I think it is just too expensive for what it is – a nice quiet office-friendly scent.

Rusty and Amouage Blossom Love and Grossmith Diamond Jubilee Bouquet

There is nothing subdued about the second perfume I tested. Amouage Blossom Love is bright and loud. If I weren’t looking at the sample, I would have never been able to recognize it as Amouage perfume. It is not a scent of a blossom. It is neither airy enough for the light spring floral scent nor opulent enough for Amouage fame. Blossom Love is very straightforward, simple and artificial, which isn’t surprising when you look at the list of notes: cherry blossom nectar, rose liquor, ylang ylang, Amaretto accord, vanilla, tonka bean, cashmeran.

I know that tastes differ a lot but I find nauseating everything about this perfume: from the stupid pink bottle to the sickly sweet and boozy scent to Christopher Chong’s description of it:

Blossom Love is inspired by the sassy nature and loyal heart of the vivacious modern woman. She defies conventions as she unabashedly lives for love, romance and new adventure

Can you imagine reading something like that but with the word “man” used instead? Ughh!

I hate the fact that, instead of setting the bar high(er) for the industry and consumers, a great brand starts catering to the lowest denominator. And I just can’t believe that at $360 for 100 ml Amouage could not afford better ingredients or a perfumer who doesn’t produce more than one (mostly middle-tier mainstream) perfume per month.

Rusty in the backyard

As you might have already guessed, this Amouage won’t be joining my collection – even though I suspect it’ll be available at a heavy discount soon. But for those of you in the U.S. who would like to try it or do not share my impression of the scent and want to wear it for a while, I would suggest checking it on the ScentBird site: for $14.95 (that includes S&H) you can get a 8 ml decant of Blossom Love (and some other recent Amouage scents). If you used to be a subscriber, login to your old account, and they’ll offer you to re-subscribe at a discount (you can unsubscribe at any time). If you have never subscribed to their service, you can use this link, and both you and I will get the second month free subscription, which means that for $14.95 you can get 2 x 8 ml of Amouage perfumes (there are some other nice options there now – that’s why I re-subscribed a couple of days ago).

 

Images: my own

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If it didn’t work the first time…

I read that this perfume was about to be released. I’m a little surprised to see it on the counter already, but since it’s there, of course I want to try it. I do not expect much but, against all odds, I still have a faint hope that it will be good…

“It’s a great new perfume featuring … “<here goes a list of notes> – announces an SA materializing at my side, –“It’s not available yet, you know. It’ll release next month. But I can pre-order it for you…”

I’ve heard a variation of this line a dozen of times. And every time I feel baffled: why?!! Why would I possibly want to pre-order the scent that I just smelled for the first time? It’s not something exclusive or limited. They do not offer any type of deal or a discount. So why to pre-order now if in a couple of weeks it’ll be in all the stores for me to buy on the spot or to spray in abundance and think until the next holidays if I want it?

My standard reply usually is: “I’ll think about it, but meanwhile could I get a sample of this great new perfume?” Not a single time I left without it.

Jo Malone Basil & Neroli is a typical Jo Malone perfume: it’s not unpleasant, not complicated, and becomes a skin scent within a couple of hours, leaving you free to choose whatever you want to wear next. I think it’s rather appealing for the opening five minutes: it’s juicy, moderately sweet and very uplifting. But then it gets just flat on my skin.

While Basil & Neroli still might be considered a unisex perfume, at least initially it is more feminine then Jo Malone’s staple and “a modern classic” (even if they say so themselves) Lime Basil & Mandarin, which is strange, if you think about it: shouldn’t the fruit (mandarin) be sweater than blossom oil? But 30-40 minutes into the development I’m not sure I can really tell them apart unless I smell them side by side.

Speaking of Lime Basil & Mandarin, being a Jo Malone fan, for years I tried that perfume again and again hoping I’d change my mind but kept on strongly disliking it – until I got Lime Basil & Mandarin soap as a part of a GWP. I simply love it! The combination that felt too masculine as perfume is just perfect for daily washing rituals. A couple of months ago I got anxious that there would be soon just a sliver left from my current then bar of LB&M – and hurried up to buy a replacement bar. Today I’m still using that first bar, and from the way it looks, there is another month or two in it. So if you were to wait for one of the brand site’s good deals, which happen from time to time (like 3 samples or, even better, a 9 ml travel bottle with any purchase), with free S&H that soap might be the best $20 spent.

Rusty and Jo Malone Lime Basil & Mandarin Soap

As for Basil & Neroli, I can’t think of a reason to even try it – unless you’re looking for a citrus piece for your perfume wardrobe, or find yourself in a store or an airport’s Duty Free with absolutely nothing else interesting to test.

 

Image: my own