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Saturday Question: What Was The Last Perfume You Gave As A Gift?

Following great tradition started by two wonderful bloggers, Birgit (Olfactoria’s Travels) and Portia (Australian Perfume Junkies), once a week I or one of the guest writers will keep the lights on in this virtual leaving room, but I hope that you, my friends and readers, will engage in conversation not only with me or the other host, but also with each other.

 

Saturday Question on Undina's Looking Glass

 

Saturday Question #27:

What Was The Last Perfume You Gave As A Gift?

We all know that it’s hard to buy perfumes for others, and, as much as we all wish sometimes for a perfume faerie or gravitating bottles, in reality unprompted gifts are rarely “hits.” But with our love to perfume we are still trying to spread joy and recruit others into our fragrant circle.

So, do you buy perfumes as gifts? Who to? Do you consult the recipient, or do you do it as a surprise? What was the last perfume you bought for somebody else? Did they like it?

My Answer

I buy perfumes for others left and right – parents, friends, not to mention my vSO. I’m coming from the time and country where giving any perfume (and especially a “French” one) as a gift was genuinely appreciated and welcomed, regardless of the scent. Of course, as time and surroundings changed, I usually stick to either buying something that I know the person likes (a version of perfume they already use or the one they happened to like in the past), or buy it as a variation on a department store’s gift card (include a sample to try and a gift receipt for the bottle with a blessing to exchange it for something else my friend might like more).

It wasn’t the first perfume I bought for my goddaughter: several years ago we went perfume shopping and ended up getting her Armani Prive Pivoine Suzhou. She wears it nicely and still likes it. Last year we wanted to do another shopping trip, but it was a hectic year for both of us, and we kept postponing it. At some point I decided to give her several samples, not necessarily of perfumes that were readily available from the surrounding stores, that she could test at her own pace.

In the process, she found one more new perfume love – JHAG‘s Miss Charming. But we agreed that even a struggling postgraduate student could afford that one from a discounter or subscription site. So, we tried to figure out something more substantial. In the end she told me that she wanted to get… Amouage Dia. It wasn’t one of the samples I prepared for her. Instead, she liked the scent from the Dia soap I gave her once as a Christmas present. So, a year after the birthday for which it was supposed to be a gift, she received from me a set of perfume and body lotion. Not to repeat the exercise, this year her gift wasn’t perfume-related.

I’m wearing my Dia today: it is beautiful. Hopefully, she’ll enjoy wearing it years to come, and I’ll make sure not to wear it to the same occasions – luckily, I have more than enough perfumes not to play “twinsies” (Did you know that was a word?!) or “Who wore it best?” (not that I would expect anyone in our circle to notice it).

 

Amouage Dia Gift Set

 

What Was The Last Perfume You Gave As A Gift?

 

Disclaimer: this blog doesn’t use any affiliated links or benefit from any of the G-d awful ads that some of you might see inserted tastelessly by the WP engine inside the post and/or between comments. Encouraging readers to post more comments does not serve any purpose other then getting pleasure from communicating with people who share same interests.
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Portia’s Gucci Timeline

Hey ULG Crew, What the hell is a Gucci timeline? I have long loved the word Gucci. Next year, 2021, Gucci is 100 years old! As I was growing up in the 1970/80s it was a fashion leader and the style magazines were full of it. Though the brand had survived to the 1980s it didn’t hold the same cachet and while I studied fashion it was held up as a “what NOT to do with your company.” They released Gucci No 3 and it never registered with me. Around 1988, my mate was working as a squirt bitch in town, putting himself through uni (University was still free in Australia at the time but he kept himself). While buying a bottle of CHANEL Antaeus from him he slipped a full tester bottle of Gucci No 3 in as a GWP! Well, my mind was officially blown. This was my first inkling that scent is totally unisex, even though I’d been nicking Mum’s Shalimar, No 5 and Samsara while living at home this felt different. A step towards something. My partner at the time and I drained that bottle. It also put Gucci back on my radar.

Through the late 1980s and early 1990s Gucci became a laughing stock. They lost their seat at the table and went into rapid decline. It seemed like they were chasing fashion, not creating it.

In the 1990s Tom Ford jumped into their womens fashion, then fashion director, then in 1994 he took over as Creative Director of Gucci. By 1994 we were already taking notice of the changes there. They still made fabulous shoes. My pair of 1995, bought in Rome, loafers are still going strong two half sole replacements later. They are comfortable, sturdy, beautiful and still hold pride of place on my shoe wall. I wore them non-stop for 15 years, they were my walking, dancing, business, travelling shoes of choice. Nothing said change like the release of Gucci Envy in 1997 and then in 1998 Gucci Envy Men. This was, and still is, one of the best ever mens fragrances. We all went absolutely apeshit for it. The clubs, malls, streets and restaurants were a coruscating mass of gorgeous people wearing this spicy woody oriental. WOW! Suddenly Kouros, Jazz, Le Male and Armani Pour Homme were so old fashioned and dated. You’ll notice I have a BNIC 100ml in the photo. I went through 100ml really quickly, then during another 50ml it got DCd. I panic bought this 100ml and haven’t had the heart to open it. I have also gone through another couple of bought from FB Sale Docs 50mls.

There were some other fine releases during this time. Who can forget the bottle and BWFness of Gucci Rush from 1999. What a perfume, so many happy memories. I also owned a bottle of Gucci Pour Homme, from 2003 with the brown juice, but it rarely got worn. I moved it on to someone who was really sad that they’d DCd it. He was grateful.

In 2007 Gucci by Gucci was released and I have loved its honeyed white floral fruitchouli wafts ever since. I went through a bottle but its replacement never got worn. In 2008 Gucci by Gucci Homme came out and flopped. I buy it for my business friends. It’s tobacco, pine and violet is unusual enough to be interesting but not overpowering or show pony-ish. It can be had for a song at the discounters nowadays and suits everyone I’ve given it to.

I have a bottle of 2010 Gucci Guilty. It was given to me by a friend who thought she was going to love it but it gave her headaches. Jasmine and lilacs set in a fruitchouli/vanillic amber diva of a fragrance. It’s a solid perfume, nothing earth shattering but pleasant and lasts all day into the night. Every time I wear it though people notice my fragrance and go out of their way to tell me how good I smell. Really good pick me up for blue days.

Gucci has been slowly diminishing again. It’s become a deplorable fashion circus and for years it released safe mainstream platitudes instead of perfume. I had given them up as an expensive, poorly timed joke and then in 2017 they release Gucci Guilty Absolute! Like, WTAF! Where did this cutting edge, niche like, behemoth of a fragrance come from. WOW! The 2018 Gucci Guilty Absolute pour Femme version is awesome too, grab some, it will blow your mind. Also in 2017, can we please have a chat about Gucci Bloom. SO GOOD! The bottle, the scent, even the flankers are clever and fun. Tuberose in myriad forms is always going to be a winner for me. Did someone at Gucci remember how to creative direct a perfume? YAY!

Now they’ve released their modern, aqueous, expensive line of cash grab elitist crap and I’m yawning. They’re not all awful but after suddenly getting back into the scent game so splendidly I was expecting a lot more. Loads of people love them, have at it I say.

You will also notice in my photo there is an Eau de Gucci Concentree from the early 1980s. I bought this not long ago from eBay. It’s an aldehydic floral leaning towards green bulbs, quite light compared to other offerings of its day but rich and tapestried like very little of today. So beautiful. WAY too precious to wear very much but I love it.

So that’s my love affair with Gucci in a rambling, ranty nutshell.
Which ones have you loved or loathed?
Portia xx

 

 

 

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Saturday Question: What Is Your Favorite Fruity Perfume?

Following great tradition started by two wonderful bloggers, Birgit (Olfactoria’s Travels) and Portia (Australian Perfume Junkies), once a week I or one of the guest writers will keep the lights on in this virtual leaving room, but I hope that you, my friends and readers, will engage in conversation not only with me or the other host, but also with each other.

 

Saturday Question on Undina's Looking Glass

 

Saturday Question #26:

What Is Your Favorite Fruity Perfume?

Fruity perfumes have not the best reputation. Mature perfumistas usually associate themselves with chypres or orientals, concession might be made to gourmands and maybe florals (especially those big and white), but fruity? The confession is usually framed with: “Normally, I’m not a fan of fruity perfumes, but…” So, my question is: do you have a name to finish that sentence? Are there any fruity perfumes that you enjoy wearing?

Bonus questions: How much fruit do you eat daily? What are your favorites?

My Answer

As if whatever is happening with the pandemic weren’t enough, in different parts of the world more human-made and natural disasters keep unfolding.

Following extremely hot weather, about which I complained in the last week’s Saturday Question, last Sunday we had a night-long dry thunderstorm in our area. It resulted in multiple wildfires all around SF Bay Area. My town is safe, but the air quality goes from moderate to unhealthy and back dependent on the wind. And we all feel (and smell!) it. The fires devastate large areas, significant number of people have been evacuated, and firefighters, while doing their best, still cannot contain most of the fires.

But since I cannot do anything to change the situation, I choose to talk about things that do not really matter on a big scale, but without them brightening my life everything that’s happening would have been even more intolerable – perfumes, fruit and Rusty.

As someone who is admittedly a floral perfume fan, I’m just one step away from embracing my penchant for fruit in perfumery. There are several perfumes with prominent fruity notes that I enjoy wearing, but since my favorite fruit is mango, for my answer today I’ll go with Neela Vermeire Creations Bombay Bling!, a bottle of which I got in Paris (when we were still traveling abroad).

 

Rusty and NVC Bombay Bling

 

Speaking of mango… Having missed most of this summer seasonal fruit (farmers markets were closed first and then or heavily restricted, while selection in stores was subpar and 50%-100% more expensive than a year before), I really look forward to getting my favorite Keitt (not to be mixed with Kent) mangoes in the next 2-4 weeks. Meanwhile, my daily ration includes a plum or nectarine and an apple or two. I like fruit and would have eaten more if I weren’t trying to limit my food intake (I just can’t call it a diet – but I’m trying to do something).

 

What Is Your Favorite Fruity Perfume?

 

Disclaimer: this blog doesn’t use any affiliated links or benefit from any of the G-d awful ads that some of you might see inserted tastelessly by the WP engine inside the post and/or between comments. Encouraging readers to post more comments does not serve any purpose other then getting pleasure from communicating with people who share same interests.
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Review by Narth: Penhalgion’s Belgravia Chypre

I hoped that after a while everybody gets used to seeing posts written by my guest-cum-co-bloggers Narth and Portia, but a couple of times recently when Narths posts were mistaken for mine, I decided for a while to add her name to the titles (and Portia is doing something along the line already) – at least until everyone learns to check the By line (Undina).

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I’ve always been someone who likes strong flavours. If a flavour must be delicate, it should be a work of art to make up for its delicacy. I was raised on robustness; mega garlic and onions, chillies, the darkest of pumpernickels. Food was praised in my childhood for how much of a flavour bomb it was. I didn’t eat sliced white bread until I was at least 15 as this was regarded as poison by one parent and pointless by the other. Why would you eat this when you could eat rye with caraway? Don’t people realize white flour is stripped of all its nutrients?

The last time I was travelling, I had a revelation as I sat in the hostel kitchen and ate my free breakfast. A slice of white toast, spread with margarine (an abomination) and some thin, sugary strawberry jam. At home I would have used butter, and my jam would have been either an expensive brand or, more likely, made by myself and intensely flavourful. Here, drinking some over stewed black coffee and munching away at this testament to blandness, I shocked myself by appreciating the very blandness itself. It wasn’t about beautiful simplicity in food, it was a sudden shift in my thinking from an almost religious belief that all food had to be purposefully wonderful. Now you could say this enjoyment of blandness was a byproduct of travelling, we all know that the McDonald’s breakfast you have at 5am in the airport is the best McDonald’s breakfast you’ll ever have. But it was more than that, and since returning home I’ve found myself enjoying food in a different way. Perhaps, the last snobbery of my upbringing has finally dropped off, or maybe I’m just a lame-o hipster. And of course, I’m still overthinking everything, but that’s what perfume people do. So, has this played out in perfume for me? Not as readily as with food, but there have been a few times my hostel breakfast has come to mind as I enjoy a scent.

Penhaligon’s Belgravia Chypre, a limited edition now making rounds of the discounters, has at its very heart a strange staleness. It’s pretty, clean and patchouli minty. A thin rose, it smells like old musk sticks left in the bottom of a paper bag. Musk sticks for the non-Antipodeans are pink, musk flavoured sweets that people are either delighted by or grimace at the sight of. Found in the corner shops for a few cents each, many an Australian childhood included buying this cheap candy and eating it out of little paper bags. Musk is a strange thing to use as a flavour if you haven’t grown up with it. In my perfume swapping days, I would often include some Musk flavoured Lifesavers as the “extras” in an overseas swap because it is such a surprising thing to try if you’ve never had it before. Belgravia Chypre dries down to a stale paper bag infused with the flattest of musks, and I absolutely love it. It’s become my favourite evening simple scent, when I want to wind down. It often makes me laugh because of that not very good musk note, and I would not wish it any other way. I think they were going for a sheer musk, but if they had achieved that, it would have lost all its personality for me and been just another musky rose.

Do you have any scents you appreciate for their failure to be exceptional?

 

Penhaligon's Belgravia Chypre

 

Penhalgion’s Belgravia Chypre (Fabrice Pellegrin, 2018)

Top Notes: Raspberry, Pink Pepper
Middle Notes: May Rose, Mate
Base Notes: Patchouli, Cistus labdanum

 

Image: my own

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Saturday Question: Is it Ever Too Hot To Wear Perfume?

Following great tradition started by two wonderful bloggers, Birgit (Olfactoria’s Travels) and Portia (Australian Perfume Junkies), once a week I or one of the guest writers will keep the lights on in this virtual leaving room, but I hope that you, my friends and readers, will engage in conversation not only with me or the other host, but also with each other.

 

Saturday Question on Undina's Looking Glass

 

Saturday Question #25:

Is it Ever Too Hot To Wear Perfume?

There are perfumes we choose to wear in winter. There are perfumes that suit summer heat better. Sometimes we like to mix it up and wear crisp citruses in the dead of winter or heavy orientals in the dog days of summer. But for you personally: is it ever too hot to wear perfume?

My Answer

I rarely skip wearing (or at least testing) perfumes because of any reason. Maybe if I’m not feeling well. Or sometimes I might be too busy to apply perfume in the morning – but I’ll still get to it later in the day. But until recently I would have probably answered to this Saturday Question: No, heat influences my perfume choice but not my desire to wear it or not.

We had heatwaves in previous years. I wore perfumes during my trips to Hawaii, New Orleans and other hot places. But today, working from home after a very warm night, while the peak temperature outside reached 38 C / 100 F, I realized that I didn’t feel like applying any perfume in any form or amount. It was just too unpleasant – even though it was relatively nice inside because we’re lucky to have an A/C (not something usual in place where we live since we rarely have temperatures that require any aids in cooling our homes), and because we were double-lucky because we weren’t affected by power outage or state’s imposed rolling blackouts. And I’m happy to report that it has never got to 24 C in the closet where I store my perfumes (I have a thermometer that monitors temperature on the shelves).

 

2020-08-14 Weather

 

It was still 31 C / 88 F outside at 9 in the evening when we went for a walk. Before going out, I put on Atelier Cologne Jasmin Angélique (from a sample – I’m still trying to decide if I want to get any). It didn’t feel right, so I might skip wearing perfume tomorrow if it doesn’t cool off. How about you?

 

Is it Ever Too Hot To Wear Perfume?

 

Disclaimer: this blog doesn’t use any affiliated links or benefit from any of the G-d awful ads that some of you might see inserted tastelessly by the WP engine inside the post and/or between comments. Encouraging readers to post more comments does not serve any purpose other then getting pleasure from communicating with people who share same interests.
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Rusty the Cat: On Boxes

As someone whose watch lists on different streaming services mostly consist of police procedural shows, I have to concede that this post, being the third after Rusty the Cat: On Food and Treats and Rusty the Cat: On Comfort Temperatures, moved the topic over the threshold when it definitely qualifies as serial… I mean, series.

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Do you know that cats love cardboard boxes?

Even though my grandparents had cats with whom I spent my summer breaks in the same house, and despite of the fact that my vSO and I had a cat once (I told this story many years ago – Orange Cats in My Life – Part I: Found and Lost), somehow I had never been privy to that cats’ trait.

I’m not sure why that was: either those particular cats that I observed were not adventurous; or maybe breeds of cats in my native country had different inclinations; or can it be that back then we didn’t have that many boxes in general, and those that we were rarely getting weren’t left out for pets to play?

Whatever it was, the first time I realized that it was “a thing” with cats was when many years ago a friend told me about the famous Japanese cat Maru and shared a couple of YouTube videos of him packing into different boxes, including the tiniest ones (it was years before he was certified by Guinness World Records as the most viewed single animal on YouTube).

And then we got Rusty, who over the years demonstrated to us how much cats love boxes.

Whenever a new box only gets in our house (which these days happens even more frequent than before), Rusty immediately plops himself on top of them. He notably likes wine boxes – probably because they are very steady and safe to jump on and off.

 

 

All other boxes are also fair game, especially once they are emptied. Rusty would pack himself into almost any box – be it large, small, tall or shallow.

 

 

Usually he stays in a new box for a while, probably until he impregnates it with his scent. After that he loses interest. But there are two boxes that we keep (replacing them from time to time on the same spot), and he uses them for years: one is a box to where he runs and hides when I yell at him for doing something he isn’t supposed to do (like trying to steal meat from a hot frying pan); and the second one is a “Greeting box,” as we call it: it stands facing an entrance door from the garage, and Rusty sits in it when we’re returning home from somewhere (on a picture below it’s a shallower box to the right from the temporary Rusty’s toy).

 

Rusty in a Box

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Portia’s Theory of Fragrant Relativity

Hi there, ULG Perfume Buddies. I have a theory. Well, I’ve called it a theory, but that’s because I suffer delusions of grandeur. It’s just a thing that’s been rattling around in my brain for a while. It didn’t really have much fom till I mentioned it to some mates, and they all piled on with thoughts and japes. It was kind of out-of control. What came out of it was a crystallising of my thoughts, and then I thought it might be fun to discuss it with you all.

In 20-40 years time, the perfumistas will be reminiscing about their love for perfumes from Juicy Couture, Jessica Simpson, Agent Provocateur, Lady Gaga and Benefit.

They will dream of fruitchoulis, calone and rose/oud combos like we do about oak moss and musks.

The prices of these scents will skyrocket on the future equivalent of eBay, and we will finally get our long lost fougere, chypre and galbanum rich beauties for next to nothing.

Now, I also have a confession.

When I heard that Agent Provocateur had gone bust, I went straight to FragranceNet and bought two 100ml of three from their range. Maitress, Lace Noir and Blue Silk. Then I went searching high and low for their original Agent Provocateur EdP, found two bottles of that for quite good prices and am awaiting their arrival. Finally, I saw Fatale Intense in my local chemist and snaffled that too.

NOW I have to find somewhere to put the damn things…

Also, have you noticed Jessica Simpson frags getting harder to find? I might have panic bought some of them too.

 

 

The only bottles already in my collection were original Agent Provocateur EdP and Jessica Simpson Fancy Nights (not pictured). They have been long standing regular use perfumes in collection, and I’ll be sad to not have them. So, buying them makes sense, right? Backing up your disappearing beauties is a perfumistas stock in trade. Everything else, though, is a freaked out blind buy. There is no rhyme or reason to this. Suddenly the urge was upon me, the hunt was on, my cart full, checked out and sent. It’s like all my impulse control goes flying out the window.

Do you ever panic buy stuff just because it’s going, going, gone? What do you think of my Theory of Fragrant Relativity? What will you want to hoard?

Portia xx

 

Image: my own

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Saturday Question: Have You Ever Bought Perfume Just For Its Bottle?

Following great tradition started by two wonderful bloggers, Birgit (Olfactoria’s Travels) and Portia (Australian Perfume Junkies), once a week I or one of the guest writers will keep the lights on in this virtual leaving room, but I hope that you, my friends and readers, will engage in conversation not only with me or the other host, but also with each other.

 

Saturday Question on Undina's Looking Glass

 

Saturday Question #24:

Have You Ever Bought Perfume Just For Its Bottle?

We discussed it more than once, and most perfumistas agree: while a nice packaging matters (more or less for different people), perfume itself is much more important. But this question isn’t about it. Have you ever spent money on getting perfume that you hadn’t smelled before or didn’t like but just wanted to get a bottle?

My Answer

While I have in my collection several perfumes purchase of which was partially influenced by my liking bottles – otherwise, I would have probably gone for a decant, there is one bottle that I bought not intending to wear: Van Cleef & Arpels Feerie EdT. I got it five years ago for my Thinking outside the Box project. I’m still glad I bought it, I enjoy looking at it and regret not buying the EdP bottle of the same perfume when they were much more affordable.

 

Van Cleef & Arpels Feerie EdT

 

But that’s not all. Recently I started thinking about getting a classic Shalimar bottle (not the newer spray bottles, but the original urn bottle with a stopper). It’s bizarre because after years of trying, I still do not like this perfume and doubt I’ll ever change my mind about it. But that bottle… It is so beautiful that I want to have it. Maybe I should buy an empty vintage bottle and pour something into it – just to put it on a display?

 

Have You Ever Bought Perfume Just For Its Bottle?

 

Disclaimer: this blog doesn’t use any affiliated links or benefit from any of the G-d awful ads that some of you might see inserted tastelessly by the WP engine inside the post and/or between comments. Encouraging readers to post more comments does not serve any purpose other then getting pleasure from communicating with people who share same interests.
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In the Search for the Perfect Mimosa, Take 6

Even if you were new to my blog (which not too many of my current readers are), just from the post’s title you could guess that I like mimosa in perfumes. Correction: I like mimosa. Period.

Mimosa

My perfumista friends clearly made that connection, and in the last couple of years I’ve been getting different mimosa-related gifts from them.

Previously, I wrote about the shower gel Cotton Flower & Mimosa (Yves Rocher) that my perfume twin Lucas (Chemist in the Bottle) sent to me when it wasn’t yet available in the U.S. and Elizabeth Arden’s Green Tea Mimosa perfume that hajusuury, my other perfume sibling, gifted to me.

Last year in London, Tara (A Bottled Rose) gave me a beautiful Mimosa soap by Molinard that she brought back from her trip to France. It smells so wonderful that I did something I haven’t done before but remembered from decades back – a custom from my childhood to keep fragrant soaps in a drawer to scent lingerie. But I plan to start using it soon, before it loses its aroma.

Molinard Mimosa Soap

Then last Christmas I got another unexpected gift from Lucas: Mimosa perfume by Monotheme Fine Fragrances Venezia. Before then I had never heard about that brand, though Fragrantica has 72 (!) perfumes listed for it. Even without it being a gift from a friend, Mimosa is quite nice. Simple, uncomplicated but nice and surprisingly wearable.

Rusty and Monotheme Mimosa

But this is not all the “damage” Lucas has done recently: first he shared with me a sample of Amouage Love Mimosa, and later he found a bottle at a great price, and he, hajusuri and I split it. If you haven’t tried Love Mimosa yet, read Lucas’s great review.

Amouage Shop in London

The picture above is from my last year’s trip to London. [Un]fortunately, that day the store was closed – or I could have left it with a full-price bottle of Love Mimosa. I didn’t get that cute yellow bottle, but I got more than enough perfume to wear for the next many upcoming mimosa seasons, especially considering all other great mimosa perfumes that I accumulated over the years and previous five takes on this single note exploration. I like, own and wear Jo Malone Mimosa & Cardamom, Givenchy Amarige Mimosa, Sonoma Scent Studio Bee’s Bliss, Frederic Malle Une Fleur de Cassie, Atelier Cologne Mimosa Indigo and Elizabeth Arden Green Tea Mimosa. And I’m extremely close to needing a replacement for the decant of Prada Infusion de Mimosa.

Images: my own

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Zoologist Bee

Have you ever had a perfume note that was never center stage enough for you? A supporting note that warms, cools or brightens the star of the fragrance. You talk about how much you love the inclusion of that note, how wonderfully it is used! But the more you wear it the more you think: why can’t this note be the star? Always the bridesmaid, never the bride! In Zoologist Bee the main player is honey sodden beeswax, and all the floral attributes serve only to praise and fete the delightful waxiness.

I’ve found beeswax to be an elusive note in fragrance, I can remember only a few times being absolutely delighted by its presence. BPAL and Arcana perfume oils have scents with a beeswax note, but even while smearing on a generous amount of oil, I’ve always wanted it to be more intense. Penhalgion’s Sartorial has a waxy note designed to evoke the wax blocks used with thread by tailors, and I’ve huffed my arm trying to focus on those waxy, wonderful moments. I’ve found many honey perfumes are just sweetness without the wax, which doesn’t work for me. If you eat really excellent cold pressed honey, that wax note will be there.

When I was a child, my Dad would often bring home honeycomb, and I’d sit at the table spooning up great gobs of it, chewing away at the wax until only a tiny bit was left. Sometimes there was even a bee in the honeycomb! It was a far cry from squeezy bottles shaped like bears full of sugar syrup. Zoologist Bee is truly all about the bee and his creations. The floral notes capture that mouthwatering moment you try some fresh from the hive honey and marvel at how many flavours you can taste in it. Orange blossom, pollen, a resinous goodness, honey is a work of art. I’m honestly astonished to find all these beautiful tastes so vividly portrayed in this scent.

 

Zoologist Bee

 

Zoologist Bee (Cristiano Canali, 2019)

Top Notes: Orange, Ginger Syrup, Royal Jelly Accord

Middle Notes: Broom, Heliotrope, Mimosa, Orange Flower

Base Notes: Benzoin, Labdanum, Musks, Sandalwood, Tonka, Vanilla

Bee is quite linear. Potency gradually softening is the extent of the journey. And potent it is, no delicate wafting breeze here. This is a wonderful thing when beeswax is often only a bit player in a vanillic drydown. Is it too sweet? Is excellent honey too sweet? There’s your answer. It’s too sweet because it’s supposed to be. The only thing holding me back from acquiring a bottle is that I have yet to try Hiram Green‘s Slow Dive, another true beeswax and honey scent according to reviews. I’ve sniffed it once, and I suspect it is richer, while Bee is simpler. Both are very appealing, but I probably do not need two intensive honey and beeswax scents. I’m looking forward to our lockdown being over, someday, and being able to take myself off to the perfume shop and have a Slow Dive sniff.

And here’s an odd tidbit about Zoologist Bee. I have accidentally eaten some of this fragrance, and it tastes just like it smells! I honestly think you could make this into a liqueur or a gelato flavouring. This is not the first time I’ve accidentally eaten perfume, and usually it is a vile experience, so I was quite surprised.

 

Image: my own