Favorite Perfumes

Perfumes that I love and use

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Perfume Shelf Life

For a while I was collecting DVD. My rule was to buy only those movies that I watched, liked and wanted to have in my collection. What I noticed over time: once a movie got on the shelf I would rarely watch it again. I would still like the movie, think it is great and even watch a big chunk of it if I would catch it while switching TV channels, but whenever choosing what to watch, I would almost never go for a DVD I own.

My DVDs

Recently I came across an interesting project – Found in Translation. A graphic designer Anjana Ilyer creates posters to illustrate words in other languages with no direct English equivalent. One of the words that grabbed my attention is similar in spirit but describes a different medium: Tsundoku – a Japanese word that means “the act of leaving a book unread after buying it, typically piling it up together with other such unread books.” I’m guilty of that behavior with the only difference: the books I buy and plan to read go directly on a shelf in my bookcase.

Tsundoku

Why should it be different when it comes to perfumes, right? I have a number of bottles in my collection that weren’t impulse buys – I tried them, liked and even hunted some of them; I didn’t get tired of them and do not consider them albatrosses – and still whenever choosing what to wear I pass them by and they spend most of the time just sitting on one of the perfume shelves in my closet.

Amarige Harvest Mimosa 2007 by Givenchy is one of those “tsundoku” perfumes. I tried it first at some duty-free store at the airport and liked it. I got a sample and as it was nearing the end I liked it more and more. By the time I decided I wanted Amarige Harvest Mimosa, being a limited edition, it was gone. But I was persistent and eventually a very reasonably priced bottle joined my collection. I still think it’s great and I’m glad I have it but the last time I wore it was while writing the post about mimosa-centric perfumes… three years ago. Since then it has been safely stored all the way back on the perfume shelf. For notes and actual review read The Non-Blonde.

Rusty and Amarige Mimosa 2007

It must be something with shelves in my house…

 

Images: poster by Anjana Ilyer; two other – my own.

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Mission: Impossible Iris

She is tall and slender, with very feminine forms, humanoid face and unmistakably alien head with tentacle-like protrusions. She walks a little strange, balancing from side to side. With her light blue skin, navy lips and black nails there’s nothing human in her appearance. She looks cold, emotionless and reserved. She’s a monster. But then she starts singing and everything changes: she warms up, becomes alive and you just can’t stop watching her facial expressions and moves of her hands while she performs the composition in [almost*] humanly impossible ranges. She seems really beautiful and almost human.

Diva Plavalaguna

Impossible Iris is a great name for a perfume. How does one live up to such a name? Ramon Monegal found a perfect solution: his Iris Impossible isn’t about iris. Of course, iris is present but not only it is not in its expected and well-recognized earthy-root-y facet but it is also so well blended with other notes (according to Fragrantica – mimosa, raspberry, Ylang-ylang, jasmine and Virginian cedar) that regular people (the ones without a super-nose or a list of notes) wouldn’t be able to identify what they smell. Reviewers are all over the place describing which notes they smell the most prominently in this perfume. I declare my inability to pick out any of them – even though I think I know how those notes are supposed to smell.

Impossible Iris starts strange and a little aloof (especially if worn in the colder weather). It smells… the word “artificial” has a negative connotation, which isn’t my intent, but I don’t know how to describe this perfume better. It smells not natural – similar to how Mugler‘s Angel smells not natural (though I’m not trying to compare scents themselves). I do not recognize the scent of any of the listed elements but the composition smells good. As time goes by, Impossible Iris warms up, loses its otherworldliness and becomes more familiar and approachable. It sings on skin and it is beautiful.

Ramon Monegal Impossible Iris

Impossible Iris for me is that Diva Plavalaguna of the Perfumeland. I got the first sample because I liked the name. When I applied the perfume for the first time, it wasn’t what I expected or wanted it to be. But it was weird and interesting. And captivating. And I couldn’t stop sniffing my wrist – all the way through a couple of samples to a bottle in my collection.

I don’t know what it is with me, iris perfumes and aliens: it’s the second time I drew that type of association (the previous time it was Alien wears Prada Infusion d’Iris). If you haven’t seen it yet (or don’t remember it well), watch the clip and tell me if you see what I see:

 

Images: Diva Plavalaguna – from the video; perfume – my own

* IMDB trivia on this movie mentions that the singer, Inva Mula, commented to the composer that “some of the notes written were not humanly possible to achieve because the human voice cannot change notes that fast” so she performed those notes in isolation – one by one, and they were edited into the aria. Since then there were at least several claims by different singers of performing the same composition live. You can easily find their clips online but I don’t know either if those are really unedited recordings or if they actually are doing it exactly to the original (my abilities are not good enough to hear that).

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Unfashionable me: Past, Present and Future

Last week Natalie of Another Perfume Blog dedicated to me one of her RSP (Runway, Sidewalk, Perfume) posts. She depicted me much better than I am in the real life – so you should go and read it if you haven’t done it yet! (UPD: APB is closed now)

Natalie’s post sent me sorting not only through my closet to streamlining my wardrobe but also through my memories.

I grew up in a fashion-challenged country: there were almost no fashion magazines, no advertising of any kind, runway TV shows or even sales catalogs. Still somehow everybody knew what was in fashion at any given time. And most women tried to follow that fashion. So the whole country would be wearing miniskirts, maxi skirts, banana pants, leg warmers, turtlenecks or wedges. Well, maybe not the whole country but inhabitants of big cities definitely would.

I don’t know how they (we) did it: light industry wasn’t the country’s strong suit (I haven’t decided if to consider that a pun); you couldn’t just go to a department store and buy nice clothes – you had to either come across new arrivals and stand in line for a couple of hours or “know somebody” (a sale assistant or a store manager). There was a third option – engaging in the hand-to-hand sale. The problem with the latter was that it was illegal and very expensive: a pair of fashionable boots, for example, could cost a monthly salary of a school teacher. Nevertheless, many women of all ages managed to get the desirable item into their wardrobe. Peculiarly you could unmistakably tell that year’s “it” from just walking the streets or riding a subway. Interestingly, when it came to fashion, looking like everybody else was considered a good thing.

Soviet Fashion in 60s

For the first several years after I moved to the U.S. I thought I was in heaven: not because of the abundance of nice clothes for almost any price range but because it seemed nobody cared for fashion. Most people around wore whatever they felt like wearing, in many cases just jeans and tops – comfortable clothes. Comfort has never been a priority for me (or my ex-countrymen) but what I actually enjoyed was the newly found freedom to wear what I wanted without the pressure to follow the trend or be like everybody.

Of course later I realized that fashion agnosticism that I, following my previous experience, projected on the whole country, was rather a reflection of the area where I lived: soccer moms and computer geeks are not much into hot couture or even just fashion trends.

I still do not care much for what is in or out of fashion. I like beautiful things and would wear something I like without thinking twice if others might think of it as dated. My taste and wardrobe changed a little over the years but I’m still more on the classic and conservative than modern and hip side. And, most likely, I’ll stay that way. If you want to know more, I touched upon my present attitude towards clothes (including a bizarre classification of things I wear) in the last year’s post For Every Occasion: Jul et Mad Amour de Palazzo.

As for the future, what I’m trying to change about my clothes is what I do already, more successfully, with perfumes: I think I will be happier with twice or even three times fewer items bought for the same money. I like variety but I don’t get as much joy from five $40 mainstream perfumes from a discount store as I would get from one even full price bottle of niche perfume of my choice. Two more issues I’m working on: overcoming my preconception that, borrowing from Mr. H. Ford, shoes might be in any color as long as they are black (an aftermath of having just one or two pairs at a time, which had to go with everything) and almost physical handicap preventing me from buying and wearing anything white, especially pants and skirts (I’m still not sure how people do that while using public transportation!).

I also decide to try my hand at making a fashion collage to pair with one of my favorite perfumes – Ormonde Jayne Ta’if (if you missed it, I told the story of this perfume in this year’s anniversary post Down the Rabbit Hole through the Looking-Glass).

Ormonde Jayne Ta'if Collage

Images: Soviet fashion, shoes and clutch for the collage – borrowed somewhere (can’t find owners), necklace, dress and perfume in collage – my own.

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How Do You Take Your Amber?

We had a really strange winter this year*: it has never actually got cold. When I say “cold” I mean, of course, our Californian cold – something like 10C/50F. Instead of it the average high temperature in February, for example, was 16C/60F. I’m not really complaining especially after hearing about record levels of snow and cold weather all over the world. After all, no matter how much I realize that warm weather in absence of rain makes our drought situation even worse, objectively if feels nice.

But there was one serious negative consequence for me: this past winter I couldn’t wear almost any of my favorite amber perfumes. Even though I do not do a conscious season rotation of perfumes, my wearing habits gravitate towards the commonly accepted practice of lighter scents in summer and heavier members of my collection in winter. So the only amber I wear in hot weather is my amber necklace.

Amber Necklace

As winter approached I was eager to start wearing my favorite ambers again. The first disappointment came when I put on Ambre Russe by Parfum d’Empire. This perfume was on my “to buy” list for a couple of years so I decided to finish the sample I had and finally buy a bottle. Actually, I would have bought it not waiting for the last drop to leave the sample vial if it weren’t for an unavailability of more reasonable 50 ml bottles. Now I think that maybe it was a sign: the last time I wore it from the sample I felt almost like washing it off. Now I’m not sure any more if I even want it.

After that I was very careful approaching the rest of the usual suspects: Ambre Sultan by Serge Lutens, Ambre Fetishe by Annick Gotal, Amber Absolute by Tom Ford and Mitzah by Dior – each got just one wear, if that. I didn’t dislike them but I didn’t get the same warm feeling I used to get from them before. Even L’eau d’Ambre Extreme by L’Artisan Parfumeur felt too heavy for the weather.

There were just a couple of ambers that worked better and didn’t scare me. Unexpectedly, two of those were Ambre Orient by Armani Prive and Amber Oud from By Kilian. I am surprised because both have agarwood – the note that is difficult for me. But this time amber + agarwood combination seemed exactly what I needed. One more perfume that suddenly came into favor was Calamity J by Juliette Has A Gun. After I deplete the decant I will consider adding a bottle to my collection.

Despite all that I had more amber in my life this winter than ever before: last New Year I’ve got a gift from my vSO – Black Orchid Diffuser Set from my favorite designer Michael Aram. I’ve never had a diffuser before but was glad to get this one since I have some other items from this collection. Official notes are citrus, floral notes, tropical fruits, cedar, sandalwood and musk but for my nose it smells like a light amber perfume. And for a while, until I realized from where that wonderful scent was coming, I tried to figure out which of my perfumes left those traces and, which was even more important, where?!

Michael Aram Black Orchid Diffuser

So this year I take my amber light or very light. And, it seems, with agarwood. But I really hope that next year I’ll be able to enjoy the “heavy hitters” (© Olfactoria, Queen of Amber) again.

 

How do you take your amber nowadays?

* Ines recently started her post with the exact phrase but I swear I had this part already written by the time I read her post.

 

Images: my own

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Know-how [not to]: Freshen up a linen closet

In the past I said more than once that I wouldn’t mind paying more per milliliter for a perfume released by a brand in a smaller bottle (and I prompted brands to do so every chance I got). And I haven’t changed my mind since: many brands put a lot of efforts into each small detail of their creations, and I would love to have perfumes I want to use as a “full package” – with an original bottle and even a box. What I didn’t take into the consideration was a situation when I actually do not like the “big” bottle itself.

When I thought of getting Le Labo‘s Rose 31 perfume, I immediately decided against 100 ml (and even 50 ml) bottles since not only I didn’t need that amount of any perfume, I didn’t like Le Labo’s bottles at all. Their apothecary style with scientific labels just doesn’t appeal to me. 15 ml bottle would be a perfect size regardless of how the bottle looks (it’s not worse than a plain decanting atomizer, right?) – but with the price of a ml of Rose 31 from a small bottle being almost three times higher than the price of the same ml from the biggest bottle and two times higher if you calculate it based on the 100 ml bottle, I decided to go for a decant.

It was the second split in which I’d ever participated, and my collection was much smaller then, so I waited for it very anxiously. It arrived crashed – and so would have been my enthusiasm for splits if it weren’t for the very nice person who hosted the split: she offered to replace it and even absorbed the cost.

Rose31 Leaked Decant

It all happened so fast – my excitement from getting the package, disappointment from seeing its content gone, and the relief after the great communication with the host of the split – that I felt a little exhausted and, without thinking straight, just sealed the remains of the decant bottle in the same envelope it came in and took it home. Later I realized I didn’t need it but a thick envelop soaked with 10 ml of potent Rose 31 smelled so good that instead of throwing it away I decided to put it into my linen closet.

Envelope with Rose 31 Leaked Decant

My replacement decant arrived soon after that and joined the growing collection of perfumes. I wore Rose 31 once in a while and enjoyed it. Meanwhile the improvised freshener in my linen closet kept its smell for over a year – and I kept being amazed by that every time I would open the door… And then I noticed that choosing what to wear I would pass this perfume over thinking “I don’t feel like it today” and realized that it was happening because coming from the linen closet the scent became so mundane and unvarying that I didn’t envisage it as a personal perfume any longer.

Recently I came across an advice on making your linen closet smell fresh:

All you have to do is spray or dip cotton balls in your favorite scent and place them on the shelves of your storage space or linen closet.

This is a nifty little way to make sure your soft goods stay fresh. Plus, you’ll never have to place expensive air fresheners in the closet.

I chuckled at that “economical” advice calculating how many “expensive air fresheners” I could have bought for the price of Rose 31 decant – or any of “my favorite scents” to that matter. And that is not even counting punitive damages in the form of me not wearing that perfume.

SF Rose Garden

Now, two years later, I enjoy Rose 31 again. I’m amazed that I liked it in the first place since both cumin and agarwood are the notes that rarely play nicely on my skin but somehow the combination of all the components in this perfume was just right. And the staying power of Rose 31 is amazing not only in the closed space of a linen closet.  But something tells me I shouldn’t try Le Labo’s Laundry Detergent they offer in this scent.

Lorraine (Dear Scent Diary) has described Le Labo Rose 31 really close to how I smell it so if you haven’t tried it yet read her review.

Images: my own

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Chasing Daphne

I have a brown thumb. I know it is so because once I killed ivy – and it wasn’t even my intent! It doesn’t upset me too much since I never felt like growing anything. But despite that I’ve just adopted a plant. I wanted to do it for a while but for the last several years something would come up in January-February – the only two months when Daphne Odora (Winter Daphne) blooms. And knowing my “abilities” I wanted to get at least the first bloom.

Apollo and Daphne by Gian Lorenzo Bernini

Apollo and Daphne, by Gian Lorenzo Bernini

I found Daphne many years ago while walking in the park next to the office. I smelled something wonderful in the air – and just methodically sniffed every flower I could see around until I found it. Then it took me another year to figure out the name of that plant and then several more years to finally get it.

Daphne’s flowers aren’t that impressive: pale pink with darker center. They resemble many others flowering shrubs’ blooms. But the scent is heavenly. I thought how to describe Daphne’s aroma when serendipitously a couple of days ago I saw Ineke Ruhland’s Facebook post about that plant and I figured out that she was better qualified to give you an idea of how it smells – in case you haven’t smelled it before.

I would say it’s a must-have plant for gardeners who like scented plants or for perfume lovers. I’ve heard many gardeners rave about the scent, which I would describe as orange flower + lemon + honey + molasses. It’s sweet but not cloying. […] When you run across one with loads of blooms, it’s a real wafter.

Daphne odora

Since I smelled Daphne for the first time I wanted to have perfume with that scent. “Daphne odora” was my standard answer to questions in different polls as to which note/scent you want created in a perfume form. From what I read, all parts of Daphne plant are poisonous so I don’t think there will ever be an actual Daphne note in any perfume but I’m fine with a recreation – as long as it smells close.

The first (and so far the only) perfume I ever saw listing Daphne as a note was Eau de Tommy Sooni II by Tommy Sooni (it’s not the most imaginative name, is it?). I read Victoria’s (EauMG) glowing review and it was an immediate lemming. You should read it too if you haven’t tried this perfume yet. I don’t think I can describe it better.

Does it smell like Daphne? It doesn’t the way Carnal Flower smells of tuberose, Diorissimo of lily-of-the-valley or Miss Charming of roses. When I smell it on its own, my mind doesn’t conjure Daphne immediately. But when I do a side-by-side sniffing of the real flower and Eau de Tommi Sooni II, I can “see” the resemblance. It might be that this perfume has one of the many other types of Daphne, not Daphne odora that I like.

I think that Eau de Tommi Sooni II is one of those perfumes praising which one does it a disservice: since this perfume doesn’t wow you from the first sniff telling you how wonderful it smells might create wrong expectations and cause a disappointment. But I can say that it is interesting: once I applied it I wanted to smell it again and again, it captivated me. When I finished the first sample I thought that I’d need a decant. By the time the second sample was half-gone I decided to get a bottle and see if I could make the plant last as long as 100 ml of the perfume. I hope that Daphne plant doesn’t run away from me in terror or turn into a nymph.

So despite the not inspiring name and an objectionable bottle size (brands, be reasonable! Why make only 100 ml bottles??!) Eau de Tommi Sooni II has joined my collection as this year birthday perfume bottle.

Eau de Tommi Sooni II

Images: Apollo and Daphne – from here, the last two my own

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Short Conversations About Perfume: Like a Stranger

 

Kiss me
I want you to kiss me like a stranger once again
Kiss me like a stranger once again…

It’s a warm sunny winter day. My vSO and I are driving along the coast. It’s my birthday and he’s taking me on a short [almost] surprise vacation to the beautiful ocean view hotel. Tom Waits’ voice from the speakers – I gave that Bad as Me CD to my vSO for his birthday a while ago but I haven’t heard it until now:

You wear the same kind of perfume
You wore when we met
I suppose there’s something comforting
In knowing what to expect
But when you brushed up against me
Before I knew your name
Everything was thrilling
‘Cause nothin’ was the same

I (turning to my vSO):  You know, I actually am wearing today the same perfume as I wore when we met.
He: Oh, really?
I: Yeah, it’s my favorite Climat. It felt right for the occasion.

Monterey

The next day on the way back I find the same song. My vSO: Are you listening to it again because of the perfume?
I: Yes. And because it’s a very romantic song.
He: It is.
(after a pause)
I: Could you recognize any of my perfumes?
He: (with a sigh) No, I can’t say that I could…

It doesn’t upset me: he never did. So for me “…there’s something comforting in knowing what to expect…” And for him? At least my perfume every time is not the same. “Like a stranger…”

 

 

Image: my own

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Down the Rabbit Hole through the Looking-Glass

 

I don’t like changes and there have always been many constants in my life. Today, on the third anniversary of Undina’s Looking Glass, I want to write about two things I liked for almost as long as I can remember myself: perfumes and storytelling.

At six, my mother and I had a ritual: she would read me a chapter from Alice in Wonderland before bed time, and the next day I would tell it in front of my group in a kindergarten. I think our teacher just appreciated 10-15 minutes of the calm time while she didn’t have to entertain us but I felt very proud to stand in front of the other 12-15 kids and tell the next part of the story.

Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There I read already on my own when I was nine. I don’t remember if I shared that book with anybody at the time but clearly it imprinted in my mind and many years later transformed into the idea behind the idea of this blog’s name.

Alice in NY

It has been long time since I was a kid but I still like telling stories: not fiction but rather something I’ve read, heard or experienced. And since I have the perfect audience (thank you, my friends and readers!), here’s the next chapter of my perfumed story for you.

Even though perfumes were always in my life, until recently I was mostly familiar with the mass market variety. Over the years I’ve approached the proverbial rabbit hole a couple of times without realizing it (several harder to find or niche perfumes made it into my collection without me knowing the significance of that) but every time I would return to the safe ground of mainstream perfumes.

Four years ago, I had a small collection of perfumes, arrogant notion that I knew about most of new releases (my world was limited by local Macy’s, Nordstrom and Sephora) and a firm belief that everything smells like everything else. I still loved and wore perfumes that I owned but I felt apathetic about new releases and didn’t expect to find anything interesting and worth my attention.

In summer 2010, my vSO and I spent four days in London. The trip didn’t start well: due to an oversight we ended up staying in a tiny and extremely hot mansard room. 12 m2 for everything, including a bathroom and the advertised “kitchenette.” It was so tight that the bed was the only place one could spend time on while being inside. So we tried to spend as much time in the city as we could to get back after dark when the temperature inside would become more tolerable.

London Apartment

The idea to visit Harrods came from my vSO: he read about it in the guide book and thought it would be interesting to see the biggest department store in Europe. We were walking there as in a museum for a while before we came across the perfume department – the regular one, I hadn’t even heard about Roja Dove’s Haute Parfumerie until after we returned from that trip.

I wasn’t looking for a new perfume; I was just leisurely browsing the selection when a new perfume found me. An SA almost forced a scented paper strip on me. I knew nothing about the brand. I had never seen their perfumes before. But it was easier just to take that blotter… The brand was Ormonde Jayne. And the perfume was Ta’if.

I liked it so much that I was seriously considering an on-the-spot purchase but remembering an unpleasant experience described in My First Scrubber I decided that I needed to give it some skin time first. Shall we say, the whole 15-20 minutes? I sprayed my wrist, put the blotter in my purse and we went to the next department – just to wait for Ta’if to develop.

That next department happened to be a Jewelry Department. I was looking for anything in that department even less than for new perfume… You know where the story is heading, right? I found a perfect ring that I just had to have. And the more I smelled my wrist the more I liked that perfume. And the store was closing, so I had to decide quickly what I should get. I knew that once you pass on a jewelry you like, it would be almost impossible to find it again. And with perfumes you should be able to find anything online and even cheaper (yeah, I told you I was a little arrogant). I left Harrods with a ring.

Shaun Leane Cherry Blossom Ring

Ta’if had transferred in my purse from the blotter to my phone and stuck to it for days (who knew about that property of gorilla glass?!) haunting me but at the same time making my evenings at that shoebox of a room a little better.

I came home, started looking for Ormonde Jayne, realized it wasn’t available in the U.S., and while at it I discovered The Perfumed Court, perfume blogs and the whole world of niche and indie perfumes.

Ta’if by Ormonde Jayne is my White Rabbit following whom I started my adventures in the Perfumeland. Had I been more spontaneous (which I’m still not), I would have gotten that bottle right then and there and who knows when or even if I would have come to where I am now. But it took me a couple of months to find a decant, a couple of years to get a travel bottle of Ta’if EdP and another year to add a bottle of Ta’if parfum to my collection. It took me three years and 240 posts to write my down-the-rabbit-hole story.

Ormonde Jayne Ta'if Parfum

There are many reviews of Ta’if EdP out there, so I won’t even attempt to do a review. But I’ll share the opinion on the difference between the two versions – eau de perfume and parfum. They are very similar; the latter is a little smoother and has a slightly better longevity but all that isn’t worth an almost 2.5 difference in price ($126 vs. $300). Ta’if is gorgeous perfume, and if you like it go for the eau de perfume concentration.

So this is the story of Ta’if, one of my top three all-time favorite perfumes with the other two being Climat by Lancôme, the story of which started this blog three years ago, and Ubar by Amouage, a story of which I’ll probably tell one day.

 

Images: my own

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My First Creed: Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie

 

For a very long time I haven’t approached Creed. There were several reasons for that.

First, when I didn’t know anything about the brand, its line-up in Neiman Marcus looked so unapproachable that I would keep passing the Creed’s counter long after NM itself stopped being intimidating (though it’s still too expensive for me to shop there).

Later, when I already knew about Creed, in my mind it was closely connected to the testosterone overdose coming from the certain forum and some Facebook groups: all those batch numbers and bottles parts’ details were just making me nauseous and didn’t inspire the exploration.

I was bored. There was absolutely nothing new for me to sniff at the local Neiman Marcus. Because of my previous success with gardenia perfumes – Guerlain Cruel Gardenia and Ineke Hothouse Flower – I was mildly curious about the new Creed’s Fleurs de Gardenia. They didn’t have it yet but it was too late: I “left myself open” and a Creed’s SA, who looked like she also was quite bored, decided it was her chance.

For the next fifteen minutes she was enticing me with different scents on paper strips, names and notes. I decided not to fight back and compliantly stood there nodding. I must have fulfilled my part of the SA-potential client dance, so she easily agreed to make a sample of the perfume that I liked the most – Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie.

Creed Jasmin Imperatrice Eugenie

I wonder how Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie smelled 160 (one hundred and sixty!) years ago when, according to the official legend, it was created by Henry Creed II for the wife of Napoleon III, Empress Eugenie? I suspect it had been reformulated multiple times even before its public release in 1989 and definitely more than once since. But I’ve never smelled any of previous Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie reincarnations so no regrets here.

Official list of notes includes bergamot, Bulgarian rose, ambergris, Italian jasmine, vanilla and sandalwood. For a while I didn’t smell jasmine in Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie – until I tried it in parallel with Dior‘s Grand Bal. Now I can clearly detect it. But still for me this perfume isn’t about jasmine. This perfume is jasmine wrapped into and creamy sandalwood with just a hint of vanilla. I can’t detect rose but I’m not too good with that note when it’s not in a leading role. Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie is very smooth and well-blended. It has a good projection so it’s not one of those perfumes in which you can bathe. It stays on my skin for about 8 hours during which it doesn’t change much to my nose (though I’m positive that at least a couple of my readers would be able to parse out more distinct stages). I like this perfume very much.

Rusty and Creed Jasmin Imperatrice Eugenie

My vSO also likes Jasmin Impératrice Eugénie. I know that not because he gave it to me as a New Year gift (I had a hand in it) but because he complimented me on three separate occasions (which doesn’t happen too often) without knowing what I was wearing (which does happen a lot).

Do you have a favorite Creed perfume?

 

Images: my own

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Entertaining Statistics: 2013 Year Round-up

 

There were no major developments in my life in 2013 and though there were some minor disappointments it was a good year for me overall. I got to smell linden in Kharkov, Vienna and Paris. I met Birgit (Olfactoria’s Travels), Sandra (guest writer at Olfactoria’s Travels), Vanessa (Bonkers About Perfume) and Natalie (Another Perfume Blog). I tried several new fruits during our Hawaiian vacation. And I had great winter holidays. So I’m thankful to 2013 but I’m ready for the new, hopefully rainier 2014.

Perfume-wise 2013 also wasn’t a bad year (numbers in parentheses are from 2012, for comparison).

 

Perfume Testing

Even though I haven’t tried many of the big new releases and out of those that I have tried I didn’t like many that made others’ “top 2013” lists but I did a lot of testing. I tested1 321 (356) perfumes from 107 (114) brands on 461 (572) occasions. Many of these perfumes weren’t new and of some I own a bottle or a decant but I might have done a parallel testing with some new perfume or for my Single Note Exploration posts. But there were 185 (245) perfumes that I’ve tried for the first time in 2013. The number of new perfumes2 I test declines every year but I think it happens not because of my diminished interest in testing new things but just because of time and skin RE limitations since I often re-visit those that I’ve previously tested.

New Perfumes Tested 2011 - 2013

 

Perfume Wearing

Once my collection (bottles and decants) got to the certain size I decided that I shouldn’t sacrifice my favorite perfumes for testing new ones – especially since I test mostly not for reviews. I wore3 perfumes from my collection almost every day: 142 (138) perfumes from 54 (50) brands on 355 (348) occasions.

Stats 2013 Brands Tested

Nine out of twelve brands I wore the most this year are the same as the last year. Guerlain got to the first place which is a little strange since I still don’t consider myself that brand’s fan.

I wear a different perfume every day and try to give all of my favorites at least some skin time so I do not use each perfume too often. In 2013 my top five (actually, seven since the last three got the equal attention) were: Keiko Mecheri Johana, Giorgio Armani  La Femme Bleue, Neela Vermeire Creations Bombay Bling!, Guerlain Encens Mythique d’Orient, Ormonde Jayne Ta’if, Diptyque Volutes and Yves Rocher Nature.

 

Perfume Statistics

During 2013 I did statistics posts on the perfumes bought by the launch year, dependency of my enjoyment of perfumes and a type of the bottle it came in, quarter to quarter perfume usage comparison, frequency of the same perfumes usage, perfumes by country of origin, reaction to perfumes dependent on weather conditions, perfume application spots, favorite fruits in perfumes, giving perfumes as gifts and spontaneity in perfumes acquisition. Many of this posts were based on answers from my readers – thank you!

 

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Will I find more angles of perfumes counting to keep up my Entertaining Statistics posts in 2014? I hope with your help I will.

 

Images: my own

 

1 For the testing I apply a perfume to one area on my arms easily available for the repetitive sniffing. But, most likely, I’m the only one who can smell it. I can test two, sometimes even more perfumes at the same time.

2 “New perfumes” refers to perfumes that I haven’t tried before, not the current year’s releases.

3 When I wear a perfume I apply it to at least three-four points and usually I plan to spend at least 4-8 hours with the same scent so I’m prepared to re-apply if the original application wears off.