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Mr. & Mrs. Tom Ford Noir

Tom Ford Noir released three years ago got mixed reviews (which perfume didn’t?) but since back then I was trying to test all new releases, to which I could get access, and I was a big fan of Tom Ford’s perfumes, I got a sample as soon as I saw the perfume on the counter. After that I don’t remember anything. Either I tried it then, didn’t write down my impressions and completely forgot about it or I just forgot to test it before putting the sample away.

Tom Ford is still one of my favorite brands but after the recent disappointment with Velvet Orchid I somehow missed even the fact of one more perfume being released, which didn’t stop me from asking for a sample as soon as an SA cheerfully shared with me the news. I am glad I did.

Since now I had both samples, I decided to make it up to the one I neglected. So first I tested TF Noir on my skin. Out of the cornucopia of notes mentioned on Fragrantica, I can smell some spices, citrus, vetiver, leather and vanilla. Then I persuaded my vSO to give it a try – just to check if it smelled better on him. It is a nice perfume; I have absolutely nothing bad to say about it and I welcome it as a great addition to the mainstream perfumes stable. Moreover, I would recommend it to “civilians” of both genders before most other modern offerings. Unfortunately, it’s so… unremarkable that I can’t imagine circumstances, under which I would want my vSO to wear TF Noir instead of my other favorite Tom Ford’s perfumes – Tuscan Leather, Oud Wood or Tobacco Vanille.

Tom Ford Noir Pour Femme, on the other hand, was a pleasant surprise. For a perfume that hadn’t even gotten its own name (I couldn’t help the feeling that she was referred to by her married name), it’s very self-reliant. Many hours into the drydown I can smell some similarities between two perfumes – probably the way long-married couples come to resemble each other, but out of the two Mrs. Noir… I mean, Tom Ford Noir Pour Femme is the real killer who deserves the “noir” part of the name. It’s sweet and smooth and captivating. And though I do not need any more perfumes, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist the fatal attraction of the 30 ml bottle…

Mr and Mrs Tom Ford Noir

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WASH ‘EM CLEAN

Long Live Fluffy Towel
And Toothpowder
And Fragrant Soap
And Fine-toothed Comb!
Let’s wash and slosh,
Bathe, dive and tumble
In basins, in bathtubs,
In ocean and river,
Always and everywhere
Hurray for Water!

As an epigraph I used loosely translated closing verses of Moydodyr – the poem for children by Russian poet Korney Chukovsky published in 1923. Moydodyr (Wash’em’clean) is an anthropomorphic washstand, a self-proclaimed commander of other washstands and sponges, who teaches an untidy boy (and the readers) “the virtue of hygiene“.

Mojdodyir

I doubt that in my childhood there were too many kids who didn’t read that poem or watched the cartoon. As Wikipedia correctly states, “Moydodyr character became a symbol of cleanliness.” But I must say that for the country, several generations of which grew up on this poem, we were quite unwashed masses. I’ll spare you horror stories about hygiene norms and routines from those times: hopefully, many of those are left in the past. But I want to share some of the less detestable but rather peculiar memories. Soaps.

I don’t know how it was in early 20s when the poem was written, but by 80s books were probably the only source of fragrant soap. Soap produced in the USSR was mostly functional but not something that would bring joy to any of your senses: usually it was a rectangular bar of some undefined light color and, if you were lucky, a faint unpleasant scent. I suspect that my dislike of natural/organic/handmade soaps has a root in those childhood memories.

Soviet Fir Soap

In today’s economy whenever I read in a product’s description “Imported”, I immediately assume that it’s a euphemism for “Made in China” so in my mind it’s a disparaging attribute: had it been a “respectable” producer, it would have been named specifically – “Made in Germany/France/Italy/the U.S./etc.” Faceless “imported” usually means “a country where labor is cheap and quality is corresponding.” But when I was growing up that property had the opposite effect: it would immediately raise the status of the item. “Imported X” was universally considered of a better quality and more desirable than locally produced X. “Imported shoes”, “imported furniture” and “imported soap” are just a few examples. Usually it didn’t even matter from where those were imported (unless it was perfume, in which case it had to be French).

If anybody was lucky enough to get them, those fragrant, perfectly molded and beautifully packaged representatives of remote civilizations “imported” soaps would usually lead a life of leisure surrounded by the finest things… in underwear drawers staying there for years – until finally making a guest appearance in the bathroom. I mean, appearance for some special guests – and only after that fulfilling their utilitarian destiny.

The situation with soaps (and other imports) had significantly improved even before I left for the U.S. Camay, Palmolive, Nivea and dozens of other soap bar brands came into our lives and became something mundane and ordinary – just like it should be. And since I haven’t lived there for a long time, I don’t know if the next spiral of craziness (all-natural, artisan and such) has reached them already.

But even now and here it’s hard to get rid of old habits: almost three years have passed from the time Rusty and I demonstrated to you the wonderful linden-scented bar until I let the first drop of water touch it. It still smells nice but I think it dried out a little while waiting for its show time.

Linden Soap And Rusty

Amouage Dia soap ended up in my stash by chance: there was a closeout sale at the online store and I just couldn’t pass on a great deal. For the last couple of years I was trying to decide when the time would be right to start using it: it’s so luxurious that it felt wasteful to open it without a special occasion. Well… It’s still in its original cellophane.

Rusty and Amouage Dia

I wanted to see what Rusty thought of the Dia soap’s scent. I’m not positive but does it look to you like he’s trying to show me the proper way of cleaning myself without a soap?

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Small Things that Brighten Life: The Beautiful Duck(ling)

Since most of my readers were there for the first post in this series, I won’t repeat the detailed explanation of the idea behind (if you missed it, you can quickly scant the first couple of paragraphs here). I just want to mention that today I fight the negativity bias with a non-perfume-related post.

Not far from where I live there is an artificial pond. Despite it being a man-made body of water, many wild birds made it into their habitat. There are stilts, mallards, Canada geese and today I even saw four pelicans. I don’t know what they all find to eat in that pond but it looks like they feel quite happy.

Six or seven months ago I noticed an unusual group of three ducks: a couple of mallards (male and female) and a white domestic duck. There are more mallards in the pond and they all keep more or less close. But this trio is almost always together. I didn’t know in which relationships these three were (Are they of the same age? Or was it a case of a mistaken egg identity?), so my vSO and I just came up with a story that this white duck ran away from a farm where he would be raised for meat and joined the free flock. He seems content with his choice.

Three Friends

Every day, as I drive by on my way to work, I try to spot them because seeing that white domestic duck “in the wild”, completely out-of-place but happy, feels strangely comforting: everybody might get a chance to find the right place for themselves, the right surroundings – no matter how incongruous it might seem for those looking from the passing car.

 

Image: my own

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In the Search for the Perfect Lavender

Because of the perfume, war clearly was on my mind that day.

When in my office’s vestibule I almost ran into a guy carrying a long box, my thoughts immediately went to the mall scene from Terminator 2:

I’d never seen him in our building before so I was suspicious:

– I hope it’s not a shotgun in there…
– ???
– In the box…
– Oh, no. Those are just fluorescent light tubes.
– Ah, I see. That’s reassuring.

We smiled at each other and, as I passed him, he dropped casually:

– Nice perfume!
– Thank you!

I was wearing Lieber Gustav 14 by Krigler. You might wonder how the perfume, notes of which include lavender, black tea, tonka bean, geranium, leather and sandalwood, prompted those violent thoughts.

I could have told you that it was because the perfumer created Lieber Gustav in memory of his daughter’s fiancé who had been killed in WWI.

Or I could have drawn a complex association “Lieber Gustav” -> “Ach, du lieber Augustin” song that in the war mythology with which I grew up stereotyped fascists played on their harmonicas during WWII. Or…

But everything was much simpler: I chose Lieber Gustav as a perfume for the NTS’s Gender Wars Friday community project.

Krigler Lieber Gustav

While in the U.S. lavender is one of the most ubiquitous scents used in … everything (alongside with lemon/citrus, strawberry and rose), it wasn’t cultivated or widely used where I lived as a child. So until I moved to the U.S. in my late 20s the only thing I knew about lavender was the word itself. I’m not sure if that played any significant role in my affection towards lavender. Or maybe it was thanks to Yves Rocher‘s lavender oil that I used on pulse points when I or my vSO couldn’t sleep – and it seemed to help. Or was it a wonderful gift from a friend – “Do not Disturb” Lavender Spa Relaxation Heat Wrap* – that over years soothed many of my pains and left me feeling warm about that scent? Whatever it was, I like the smell of lavender – in body products, sachets and even food. I was surprised when I realized that I also enjoy lavender in perfumes.

Rusty and Krigler Lieber Gustav

In perfumes that I like lavender can’t be too “simple”: both Yves Rocher’s and Demeter‘s lavender scents went directly to the linen closet.

For a while I thought I liked Brin de Réglisse from the Hermessense collection. I even bought a travel bottle. Unfortunately the first couple of hours of licorice are killing it for me since I strongly dislike licorice in any form. By the time it subsides enough for me to tolerate it (or maybe I just get used to it), like most perfumes from this line it’s barely noticeable on my skin. I should probably consider Brin de Réglisse as my first official “albatross” (© Olfactoria).

Before I tried Lieber Gustav 14, I didn’t know anything about either that perfume or that brand. I didn’t know the perfume had lavender as one of the main notes. A friend of mine gave me a sample and offered a bigger decant later from her bottle if I liked it, in which she wasn’t sure since Lieber Gustav isn’t too popular in the Perfumeland. It was love at the first sniff! I decided not even to go through that illogical stage of getting a decant but saving the last couple of drops and not using it up completely and at the same time not buying a bottle because decant hasn’t been finished yet.

With just the right combination of lavender, leather and woodsy notes Lieber Gustav is a truly unisex perfume. Leather in this perfume isn’t harsh or strong but it’s definitely leather, not suede. Lavender is aromatic but not medicinal. It’s the second perfume in my collection that I equally love on me and on my vSO (I haven’t tried it on Rusty).

Rusty and Krigler Lieber Gustav

Serge Lutens‘ Gris Clair is another lavender perfume that I like. In several reviews (both positive and negative) Gris Clair was called cool or even cold, which was very surprising to me because it wasn’t how I perceived this perfume. It smelled like lavender and heated… heated… but what? Not soil or grass or road – something cleaner. For a long time it bothered me that I could distinctively smell a certain note but even though the recognition was on the tip of my tongue (nose?) it kept slipping away. And then I found and re-read Christos’ (Memory of Scent) review of Gris Clair. He called it “hot iron note.” Of course! It’s exactly what I smell. And since I like ironing (yes, I know how strange it sounds for most people), I’m not surprised my small decant is almost empty. I’m not sure though what to do next: I recently tried another Luten’s lavender perfume – Fourreau Noir – and liked it even more than I like Gris Clair. And since it’s a bell jar perfume, I should probably save my lavender-allocated budget for it and get my hot iron note directly from the source.

Serge Lutens Fourreau Noir

Do you like lavender? Do you wear lavender-centered perfumes?

Images: all but the special edition Fourreau Noir – my own

* Do not Disturb wrap on the pictures is the “second generation”: after I wore out the first one I bought a new one here (I’m not affiliated).

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lebaB fo rewoT or Found in Translation

Not knowing a language usually creates difficulties in many aspects of life: doing business, traveling or trying to appreciate not visual forms of art. But sometimes the confusion of tongues produces amusing results.

A couple of months ago Vanessa (Bonkers about Perfume) in one of her travel reports shared a joke:

We didn’t encounter any ‘Geisterfahrer’ on tour though – so-called ‘ghost drivers’ who drive the wrong way down the motorway, causing a major risk to other traffic. Oh, and the bass player remarked that for a long time he had thought ‘Ausfahrt’ was a major city in Germany, as so many roads seemed to lead to it…

It reminded me of my own road-signs-related confusions. One of them also involved German language. The first time I was in Vienna, for a good five minutes I stood next to a street name sign on a building trying to put a mental “You’re here” on the map in my hands. Finally I willed together all the shreds of my year-and-half of the German technical translation course and had an epiphany: it wasn’t a street name!

Einbahnstrasse sign

When I moved to the U.S., the first time I saw a road sign “$1000 FINE FOR LITTERING”, it enthralled me: I didn’t realize it was a regular road sign. I thought it was a custom-made board by clever city officials who chose that sarcastic way of fighting against garbage on the road to their city. You see: I didn’t know the “penalty” meaning of the word “fine.” So in my head I read it as a short version of: “If you have extra $1000, go ahead, make all the mess you want – it’s gonna be just fine!”

1000 dollar fine for littering sign

But sometimes foreign language might play tricks even with well-known words. As I was descending down the rabbit hole I kept reading about Lush/Gorilla perfumes but there were no shops close to where I lived and buying Amouage or Tauer‘s samples seemed like a better idea. But one day, while on a vacation, I spotted a LUSH shop.

Have you been to a Lush store? In my opinion, it’s an offense on the olfactory system (Body Shop and Body Works are in the same boat) and I try to pass those stores while holding my breath. But I really wanted to try their perfumes – so I braced myself and went in. I don’t remember much. I think at the time they had five perfumes – The Smell Of Freedom, Tuca Tuca, Orange Blossom, Lust and … Breath of Dog. At least that was how I read it back then. And while it didn’t surprise me much (what else would you expect from Gorilla Perfume?), I wasn’t in the mood to subject my nose to that experiment on top of everything that was going on scent-wise in the store. So after quickly trying the other four I left.

It wasn’t until a couple of years later that I realized my mistake. But the damage had been done: I could never bring myself to testing that perfume. I see that it’s still (well, again) in production though new packaging looks beyond cheap and doesn’t inspire me to overcome my preconception.

Lush Breath Of Dog perfume

But as I have recently discovered, when it comes to perfumes and their names, someone’s native language can also be the culprit.

I realize how hard it is to come up with a name for a new perfume and maybe I’m being too partial when it comes to perfumes based on Russian culture or references (remember my rants about Swan Princess or Russian Tea?) but the name of the latest perfume from Suleko (a brand reflecting strong Russian heritage of its creator) – Baba Yaga – makes me shake my head every time I see it: What were they thinking?!!

On the brand’s site they tried to give it a spin: “Baba Yaga is the terrifying witch, which appears in the Russian tales. Since our childhood, she lives deep inside us and represents this dark force, which encompasses all our fears, our doubts, our anxieties. This force gradually grows upon our head and will get so powerful one day that we will have no other choice but to face it if we want to live instead of survive.” It’s such hogwash! (Should I have said “hagwash”?) Unlike the English word “witch”, which can bring any associations from the Hansel and Gretel‘s hag to the sexy trio from The Witches of Eastwick (and for which in Russian there is another word with the similar plenitude of meanings), “Baba Yaga” means one thing – “a hag who lived in the woods in a house on chickens legs. She would often ride through the forest on a mortar, sweeping away her tracks with a broom.” Together with the description of the bottle –“Two eyes are coming out of the wood, they watch you and challenge you, and Baba Yaga’s tortuous hands appear on one side; she is gradually coming out of the bark of the tree which one can feel with its coars [sic] and rugged touch.”- it makes me think of some bizarre hybrid of LOTR’s Gollum (psychobabble about living inside us) and Fangorn (the appearance).

Sand Baba Yaga

Baba Yaga on the picture above was made from the sand but it’s a good depiction of what comes to mind when a Russian-speaking person of any age hears that name. Would you like to wear this old lady perfume (literally!)?

Speaking of perfume, I can’t say it’s bad. It doesn’t smell cheap or artificial. But I didn’t find it interesting or appealing to me. And then again, that name…

Have you ever misjudged perfume or decided not to test it based on its name? If yes, which perfume was it and why?

Images: the first sign from here; the second sign from here; BOG – from Fragrantica (edited by me); Baba Yaga – my own.

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Rusty has chosen the Winner

It took me a while to get results for the draw I offered in my 300th post. Not that I expected more people to respond (I rarely get any comments after 3-4 days) or didn’t have time to write this post (I am busy but not that busy). The challenge was to prepare everything for the draw itself: even though we’re now at the longest days in the year and I come home when it’s still daylight, the lighting in my house at that time isn’t good enough to take pictures of a quickly moving cat. And during a weekend something else came up and I couldn’t do it either.

But today I had a day off, so finally everything’s come together and Rusty and I did it:

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And the winner is …

Surprise Draw Winner

Abigail, please send me your shipping address and I’ll try my best in guessing 5 perfumes you haven’t tried yet.

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Small Things that Brighten Life: Improbable Package

Either intuitively or from reading articles on the topic, we all know that negative emotions are stronger than positive ones and stay with us for longer.

The brain handles positive and negative information in different hemispheres […]. Negative emotions generally involve more thinking, and the information is processed more thoroughly than positive ones […]. Thus, we tend to ruminate more about unpleasant events — and use stronger words to describe them — than happy ones.

I decided to fight the negativity bias in my life by highlighting from time to time small things that make my life better regardless of the negative things that might be present. “Small Things that Brighten Life” is planned as a series of occasional posts: I’ll write them as I find anything worth writing. I will not limit this series by the topic of perfumes but it just happens to be a theme of the series’ pilot. It seems very appropriate.

*

Two months ago I unexpectedly won an anniversary blog draw at All I am – a Redhead. I say “unexpectedly” because when I left my congratulations I meant to say the traditional “DNEM” but just forgot. The main reason I planned to skip the draw was because I thought something along the line: “We all are testing more or less the same perfumes, why to make Ines to try looking for something that I haven’t tried?” But when I won I couldn’t refuse my luck – especially since there was chocolate involved.

I got busy and didn’t write to Ines, she didn’t write to me either and I figured she was busy as well and we would exchange letters at some point. Last week our office assistant (the same guy who sent me a link to Mermaids Past Their Prime a couple of years ago) got a call from a receptionist from the office building in which our company had a lease before moving to the current location: there was a package with my name delivered there.

We moved from that building more than two years ago and though on a few occasions I picked up packages from there, I was surprised that somebody still remembered me. But I was glad they did and I promptly retrieved the package.

When I got home and opened the package, I was delighted and very pleasantly surprised: not only it contained a box of chocolates but also there were six perfume samples, five of which I’ve never tried (or even heard of) before. Think of it: how improbable would it be for you to send a fellow-perfumista five perfumes new to her/him without any prearrangement?

Improbable Package

Let’s see! I’ll ask Rusty to choose one of those who comments on this post and will try to guess and send five samples that the winner hadn’t try on skin before (I’m not ambitious enough to go for the “never heard of” part). And some chocolates.

Thank you, Ines, for that wonderful double-improbable package! It did brighten my life.

 

Image: my own

P.S. After hitting “Publish” I discovered that this was my 300th post. I take it as one more positive token. The negativity bias, here I come!

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Thinking outside the Box

Several years ago I read a post on Olfactarama blog about bottles collectors*. The following paragraph made me thinking:

Even as a young girl I hoped to someday have a vanity, on which there would be a mirrored tray, full of fine perfumes in their beautiful bottles. The bottles atop my cabinet now — Agent Provacateur comes to mind, in its pink ceramic egg crowned by a plain metal spray nozzle — aren’t the most appealing ones. Those are stashed safely in the dark interior.

As I was reading that passage, I realized that from an early age my idea of storing perfumes was somewhere in the dark – a cupboard, a dresser or a cabinet. A mirrored tray hadn’t been a part of our culture: usually there was not enough space in the bedroom to have that tray and nothing to put on it. Since perfumes were rare and expensive women tended to store them in the original packaging. Opening a box, getting a bottle out and sparingly applying a perfume – all these were parts of a ritual.

After moving to the U.S., for years, while coming across perfume bottles in my friends’ bathrooms and on their dressers, I would wince. I never offered any unsolicited advice but it felt like a sacrilege to leave unprotected perfume out in the open. But over time I came up with a rationale why it was an acceptable MO: with those 2-3 bottles that my friends owned they were much more likely to run out of perfume than have perfume running out on them (through evaporation or turning bad).

While I think it is fine for “civilians” to store and use their perfumes as they pleased – be it even on a windowsill or in a glove compartment – I still get distressed every time somebody demonstrates pictures of their poorly protected collections in perfume-related FB groups. I do not comment but I feel bad about those bottles. And I do not buy partial bottles without a box any more.

My Perfume Storage

The picture above shows how my collection is stored. In the walk-in closet, away from direct light, covered by a curtain from a blackout fabric (the cat-Christmas-themed towel on top is for decorative purposes only) and in their original boxes. And, as I recently commented on Vanessa’s post on a similar topic (Through the keyhole…a peek at some of my friends’ perfume collections…), in summer for those couple of days when it gets especially hot I turn AC on during the day to keep my perfumes safe. It’s interesting because Rusty doesn’t mind hot weather and it’s much cooler in the room where he spends most of his time while we’re away working.

After this substantial preamble I want to admit that for a while now I’ve been thinking how unfair it was that I get to see those beautiful bottles that I have in my collection so rarely and how great it would be to have some of them out on my dresser. After all, many of the bottles are beautiful and unusual – unlike most boxes, I must say.

As much as I would love to see my collection more often, there is no way I could put perfumes I love “in the harm’s way.” First I decided I would buy several perfumes just to use bottles. I didn’t want to spend too much on this project but I thought of a couple of brands that were perfect candidates: I liked the bottles and didn’t like those perfumes. First I bought Van Cleef & Arpels‘ Feerie EdT. Feerie EdP (a beautiful dark-blue bottle) was next on my list and I even found it for an extremely good price… It was too good to be true: the seller was confused and sent me the second bottle of EdT, which I returned. Then I was too busy to keep looking for it. The second brand I wanted to use for the purpose of displaying was Salvador Dali. But even though many of their perfumes are sold at discounters online, I don’t remember when I saw any of the bottles last so I was afraid that by now they might look really cheap. So I kept postponing the purchase hoping to come across them one day somewhere. And I had the same problem with a mirrored tray: while there were many online offerings, I just couldn’t buy any of them without actually looking at them: there are so many cheap-looking objects produced nowadays.

Perfume Bottles on my Dresser

In the end I decided – at least for now – to use what I already have:

  • Instead of a tray I put on my dresser a decorative plate “J’adore Parfum – I Love Perfume” that I got as a gift with purchase.
  • Mentioned above bottle of Feerie EdT
  • Two empty bottles: Annick Goutal‘s Petite Cherie (I used up this one but couldn’t throw it because I like these colored AG’s bottles) and Salvador Dali’s Laguna (20 years ago I got it from my friend after she finished it: I liked the bottle but not enough to splurge on the perfume)
  • Two partial bottles (perfume gone bad): Les Parfums de Rosine‘s Roseberry and Yves Rocher‘s Nature (it’s one of my old favorites so I have another bottle with good perfume but I like this leaf design and kept this bottle for no good reason – probably for this project
  • Vintage mini-bottle of Chamade by Guerlain that I bought at a thrift store (perfume is marginally usable but I prefer a modern version).

I like my arrangement. It looks nice on my dresser and I think for now I scratched that itch. But those Dali bottles and Feeri EdP…

Do you buy unboxed bottles? Do you have any bottles on display?

Images: my own

* I cannot give you a link to that post because there’s something funky going on with that blog, it has some strange redirect happening and I suspect malware.

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In the Search for the Perfect Berry: Raspberry

I picked up a large jar of raspberry preserves at a local ethnic food store. It has been a while since we had any so the moment we opened that jar it sent my vSO and me down memory lane.

In our childhood there were no mass-produced fruit preserves or jams. The only way to get those was to make them during summer when fruit and berries were in season. City dwellers had a limited access to any produce so each family would make just a few jars. Usually those preserves were saved for winter, when you couldn’t get almost any fresh fruit.

Raspberry

In mental hierarchy of preserves those made from raspberries were probably on the top. Not just for their taste or because raspberries were more expensive than some other berries, but also because raspberry preserves were believed to serve as a natural cold remedy. So even in winter we normally didn’t get to eat raspberry preserves “just because.” But once you got cold, the sacred jar would be summoned from the depths of the storage cabinet and you’d be treated with (and to) a cup of hot tea with several tea spoons of raspberry preserves in it. I’m not sure if it worked or not but it was the best part of being sick. Well, after not going to school, of course. And getting to finish preserves in the open jar after you got better.

I remember that distinct aroma of raspberry coming from the cup. It was so strong that it would get through the worst nasal congestion, which I cannot say about the content of the jar I bought recently. I don’t know what torture those strawberries went through but they had completely given up their identity: with my nose almost pressed against the opening of the jar all I can get is a faint smell resembling raspberry. My vSO couldn’t smell anything at all. We didn’t test it on Rusty since all he has for the point of comparison is a raw raspberry.

Rusty and Berries

I could keep looking for better preserves/jam (and I might still do it) but meanwhile I decided to concentrate on perfumes featuring raspberry note.

When I read notes for Russian Tea, created by Julien Rasquinet for Masque in 2014 (mint, black pepper, raspberry, black tea, magnolia, immortelle, leather, incense, birch and labdanum), I was excited, partially because of that association with tea and raspberry preserves. I even bought a sample! Isn’t that a recipe for a disappointment more often than not? Russian Tea starts promising: I can smell a little bit of black tea and even some mint. But that’s it. I can’t smell raspberry at all. The rest of the perfume development is mostly birch tar and smoke. Since I do not plan to do a post on this perfume, I want to use this chance to say that I find the whole story for the perfume bizarre: Russia has never been known for its tea and there is no special significance for either this product or tradition of drinking it. OK, maybe using samovars in the past can be considered a distinct and distinguishable tradition but still 5 o’clock tea it’s not. The only association I get when I hear “Russian tea” is Kustodiev‘s painting Merchant’s Wife (the original name in Russian is something like “merchant’s wife drinking tea”).

Kustodiev Merchant's Wife

In the first post of this berries series – the one about strawberries – two people mentioned Ambre a Sade by Nez a Nez and one of them – Susan from now closed FineFragrants – even sent me a sample to try. While strawberry note is the most prominent berry in that perfume, raspberry is also noticeable and, in general, it’s a very interesting and quirky perfume. Too bad it seems to be discontinued. If you haven’t tried it, you can read Suzanne’s (Eiderdown Press) post Ambre à Sade by Nez à Nez: Berry Unexpected to see what you’ve missed (and to learn what Marquis de Sade’s wife would bring him to sweeten his time in prison).

Birgit (Olfactoria’s Travels) attracted my attention to Parfumerie Generale‘s Brûlure de Rose almost four years ago (if you haven’t tried the perfume yet, you should read her review… on the second thought, even if you tried the perfume, read her review anyway). I got a sample, tried it several times, liked it – and completely forgot about it. I tried it again several days ago and was amazed by how much I liked it. It’s beautiful on all stages – from the lemony rose in the opening to the warm ambered drydown. I’m not sure I’d recognize raspberry in Brûlure de Rose without reading the notes (Brazilian rosewood, amber, musk, raspberry, vanilla, cacao and rose) but the berry part in this perfume is a very mature one. And since my sample is empty, I think Brûlure de Rose will be added to my “to buy” list.

My absolutely favorite raspberry perfume – the one that isn’t ashamed of its association with raspberry – is Une Rose Vermeille by Tauer Perfumes. It is so powerful that sometimes I choose to wear it from a dab vial – even though I own a bottle, which is a little ironic knowing Andy Tauer‘s views on the importance of “the flacon, the packaging, the hand written note” for the complete perfume experience (for those few who weren’t around a couple of years ago, more on the topic in my old post Perfume Bottle Splitters: Friends or Foes?). I can’t say that I love Une Rose Vermeille but I like it very much and it’s one of my mostly complimented perfumes.

Rusty and Une Rose Vermeire

I’ve tried several more perfumes that feature raspberry note. Courtesan by Worth is nice but I’m not sure I’d recognize it if I smelled it even a couple of hours after I wore it. If raspberry is in there, it contributes to the general “fruitiness” and sweetness. By Kilian‘s Back to Black definitely has raspberry but, as many other perfumes from the line, is unpleasant on my skin. And Rose Oud by Parfums De Nicolai, for my nose, doesn’t have any raspberry and is very unpleasant on my skin.

Do you have any favorite perfumes with prominent raspberry note? Do you have any favorite raspberry preserves/jam brand?

 

Images: Merchant’s Wife from Wikipedia; the rest are my own.

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Orchids That Never Wither

After telling you the story of my fascination with orchids and unrequited love to them, I kept thinking that there were many aspects that I haven’t touched but which would have added more proofs to how I feel about these flowers. Not that it would matter to them. In human interactions that would definitely have the opposite effect and could even be classified as stalking but I don’t expect a restraining order from these majestic flowers so let me share with you how I deal with my orchid fixation.

Before I went down the proverbial rabbit hole and started stocking up on bottles, decants and samples on a SABLE scale (Stash Above and Beyond Life Expectancy ©Vanessa’s SIL), for a while I was into a costume jewelry. I liked and wore different pendants, necklaces and rings before that period and do it now, but for several years I was in the phase of the initial accumulation of costume jewelry to match things in my wardrobe.

There are some one-off, rare, vintage as well as “cheap thrills” pieces in my jewelry collection, but the same way as it often happens with perfume collections, when you end up with multiple bottles from the brand you like, my jewelry box (both real and proverbial) accumulated multiple creations by artists or brands that I like. But even that cannot explain why I own not two or even three but four (!) necklaces depicting orchids. I didn’t realize it until I was writing that first orchid post. Let me show you my orchids. And, unlike their living prototypes, they never wilt on me!

When I fell in love with Michael Michaud‘s botanical jewelry, it was mostly available from art galleries, boutiques and just a couple of online retailers. Now search returns pages and pages of sites where you can buy these beautiful creations.

Michael Michaud White Orchid Neckklace

This white orchid necklace made from patinaed bronze with a pearl was one of the first pieces by the artist I bought. I can’t say that I liked it the most of what was available then (he constantly changes the range introducing new items and retiring older ones) but it was a good price… So was the second orchid necklace (bronze with hand-applied patina and enamel) that I bought last year: I saw it on eBay right before my Hawaiian vacation and just couldn’t pass.

Michael Michaud Banana Split Orchid Neckklace

Chico’s clothing has never been my thing but for a while I was fascinated with the jewelry selection in the local store. Since then I found several Chico’s necklaces I liked and bought. They are not extremely elegant or subtle but I like them and they get me more compliments than my more sophisticated pieces (didn’t we all had similar experiences with mainstream perfumes in our collections?). One of these necklaces just happened to be another orchid (metal with enamel). And it seems Rusty likes it as well.

Rusty and Chico's Orange Orchid Necklace

My most favorite of all orchid necklaces is the one by Franz Collection (I’ve previously features another necklace from the same brand – an iris one – in my In the Search for the Perfect Iris post). It’s made of porcelain and it looks exactly like it does on the picture below (I took a picture myself but then decided to use an official one because mine wasn’t doing the necklace justice).

Franz Design Green Orchid Necklace

Finally, I’d like to play my own “LUST – MUST” game (I hope you’re familiar with the concept).

There’s a new Orchid jewelry line from my favorite designer Michael Aram. I don’t think I’ll be buying any of these but I enjoy looking at them.

Michael Aram Orchid Jewelry

While Aram’s jewelry is outside of my purchasing comfort zone, his home collection is much more approachable. A couple of years ago my vSO gave me a diffuser from Aram’s Black Orchid collection as a New Year gift (I showed the picture of it in the post How Do You Take Your Amber?). And for the last New Year I got from him a candle from the same collection. I haven’t tried lighting it yet but unlit it smells nice.

Michael Aram Black Orchid Candle

Do you own any botanical jewelry?

 

Images: white orchid necklace, Chico’s necklace and black orchid candle are my own; the rest – official pictures.