Packing up perfume

I packed up most of my personal perfume. The small box will come with us in the van I'll be driving down to Devon. There's just no way my small-but-choice selection of fragrances could go into storage.

I've used up a number of bottles of beloveds recently and not replaced them on the basis that I'd just have to move them. Better to wait until we're settled to invest.

So, what's in the box?

There's ...

*an almost empty bottle of Tauer Perfumes' limited edition from several years ago, Orris. I've got around a half inch of juice left. It's an astonishing loamy, rooty iris fragrance which still manages to be lush. When I first got my bottle, I recall being stuck wrist-to-nose for several hours.

*a one-ounce bottle of pre-reformulation Mitsouko perfume, which is half full. Gorgeous stuff, which has developed a lovely anise aspect over time.

*Theo Fennell Scent, a saffron-animalic that is oh so womanly.

*a small bit of Dior Hypnotic Poison, with its wonderful almond-vanilla unctuousness. Great for late autumn/winter, but way too much for warmer weather.

*a bell jar of Serge Lutens Rose de Nuit. A femme fatale of a fragrance: full-blown-animalic rose with enough apricot to make it mouth-watering. (Need to make a decant for a friend in Michigan, so hasn't yet been packed.)

*a smallish bottle of the birch-tar-intensive Le Labo Patchouli 24. I 'patchouli' barely got whispered at this dry, leathery concoction.

*a decant of Dior Eau Noire. Dark, dense, syrupy, with a cumin kick.

*a handful of beloved small decants and samples.

What will I be jonesing for after once we're settled? Maybe I'll be lucky enough to get all of this over a couple of years.

Sooner purchases:

*Tauer Perfumes L'Air du Desert Marocain (yes, I know I sell this, but I still have to pay for it).

Later purchases:

*Tauer Perfumes Carillon pour un Ange.
*Guerlain Shalimar in perfume (I'm getting me a proper ounce of perfume with that awesome bottle).

Ongoing desires that will be sated over time (and mostly in decants):

*bottle of L'Artisan Parfumeur Nuit de Tubereuse.
*small Thierry Muglier Angel star bottle.

decants of:

*Penhaligon Amaranthine
*Carthusia Aria di Capri
*Bond No 9 Chinatown
*Serge Lutens Arabie
*Van Cleef & Arpels First (actually a small sample of the perfume)
*Kenzo Ca Sent Beau

There's actually not that much out there I really desire (there was an interesting post on Grain de Musc recently about how much dreck gets launced and how saddening that is). There's one other fragrance I really desire, but I can't even think about it until late autumn [look for a blog post around the first week in December -- that's a teaser for you :)].

One day off, one day on

A decent portion of the packing of the house for the move to Devon has been accomplished: most of my bedroom, most of the man-cub's room, the CDs and DVDS, and the books. Monday, though, not a great deal got done as it was an errand day (sent off the VAT form, the box to the winner of the Carillon give-away, get a binder for the man-cub's Pokemon cards, etc). Biggest errand was looking at modular bed-desk combos for the man-cub. His current Ikea bed gets scrapped this Sunday and dumped in the neighbourhood skip (which is around next Monday). This is turning into a rather momentous occasion.

I expect the kitchen stuff (hard graft packing dishes, etc) will take me a good three days of off and on. I infinitely prefer packing perfume and doing samples.

My garden is looking very good and lush. Alas, the people moving into the house will get the benefit of the over-active honeysuckle and the lavender. The honeysuckle fragrance is truly gorgeous. Sitting out there with a coffee I finally understand that it must be very hard indeed to capture that sort of delicate lushness without veering into the artificial sweetness realm. Honeysuckle is such an adult smell it confounds me that it gets called 'innocent'.

This past Sunday we visited the pick-your-own farm in Enfield, coming away with strawberries, raspberries and french beans (those are string beans for the US readers). The place is smells nirvana. It had rained a bit that morning, but not enough for things to be a mud-fest. Rather, we were able to wander along the trough-grown strawberry plants (these are raised above ground by around 3 feet, making easy picking for anyone but the smaller children). There were loads of beautiful, fragrant red berries hanging over the edges of the troughs. Quick work to get the basket loaded up.

Then, the beans, which are close to the ground, so less fun to pick. The super sprinklers were on across the patch from us, which was fascinating for the man-cub ("how do they know which way to go? Is there a computer inside it somewhere?").

Loads of ladybird bugs hanging around (I don't know if the farm believes in use of natural predators).

The corn in the next plot over was half-way to picking height, so we'll miss that, as it will probably be ready at the end of August (still, I expect Devon has corn...).

The veg area is very green and smells of various veg plus sap and sandy dirt.

Finally, on to the raspberries, easily picked off whatever height the picker. Big, juicy red berries almost falling off. We made quick work of the smaller basket (as the raspberries are more fragile than the strawberries and don't last as long).

Jan, our companion, got triple the raspberries we did, as she planned to make jam (we had been gifted with a jar of her output several years ago -- truly truly scrumptious -- no store-bought stuff comes near it).

Now, the raspberry rows smell intoxicating and though I've never really been a fruity fragrance girl I could very much see smelling of that almost overly rich sweet-heady fragrance, especially combined with some sort of loamy-dirty note and something salty, like, perhaps, chamomile. Definitely the other side of the spectrum from Estee Lauder Pleasures. And fragrant food for thought.

Fizzy snow?

I have an ongoing contemplation: why do people (well, mostly women) gravitate towards 'clean' fragrances? It's an off-on discussion, too, that I have with a friend who got into fragrances three or four years ago. We pick up the thread of the discussion every once in a while and invariably she comments that it seems an American thing, this running from skank. Being American by birth, I 'ummmm...' and 'welllll...' a bit, because to some extent I think she's right, but still that doesn't provide an explanation. Rather, it's simply an opinion and commentary.

Then, I was perusing the reviews in the newer edition of The Guide and -- aha moment -- there it was: in a review of Estee Lauder Pleasures (which I must have passed over when I went through the first edition of The Guide), Luca Turin presented it on a plate.

He labels it (with one of those great two worders common to The Guide) as a "snowy floral". Yes, indeed, you got it. He comments that it marked a turning point (he says, a bit more aptly, "a tipping point") away from the huge, heady perfumes popular in the 1980s to something altogether softer and more refined, closer to the bone. A reaction to excess.

Released in 1995, to me, this sits poised at a perfect point between soap and perfume, that clean vibe clearly evident. But, this is decidedly perfume and however teetery towards the soap end of things it gets, the fragrance still veers back to high perfume in the end.

Turin makes two points about pleasures and its followers that really got my attention. First, he commented on the use of aldehydes. The second, however, was the advent of snowy musks with an aldehydic feel. Yes, indeed, here we go. To me, while this seems sort of antithetical to how musk actually acted in perfumery. It is a fascinating idea: to take an ingredient that is animalic by nature and denude, almost deconstruct, it while still retaining its original purpose.

I wonder about the atmosphere in the lab when whoever chemist came up with this. Did he or she have a eureka moment? Did they have a sense they'd come up with something truly significant? And the perfumers when presented with this as a new aromachemical: ooooh, playtime!

The advertising campaign for Pleasures seems to me a departure too, as well as a bit of an irony. It featured Elizabeth Hurley and a puppy sitting amidst a load of flowers. The implication being fresh, understated, sweet, wholesome. Now knowing a bit more of EH's extracurricular activities (than Estee Lauder probably knew at the time) explains that secret smile.

A brief notes list includes lily, lilac, peony, rose (loads of it), sandalwood and patchouli.

On me, it did that soapy rose thing almost the whole way through. Tremendous staying power: still lingered in late evening after having sprayed it in the AM.  

(Small aside here: after smelling this for a few days, it occurred to me that this completely lacks a sense of humour -- if you can get your head round the idea of a fragrance having one -- which many of the big '80s perfumes had in abundance.)

On paper, it was less soapy, more floral as in rose-lilac-peony -- and I do mean really really lilac. After having the blotter on my desk for almost a week, it still absolutely wafts -- and the centre of the waft has become incredibly strong, almost neon, soapy lilac.

I could never see myself wearing this -- even for a lark on a day I felt contrary regarding my other fragrances. So, I see no need to have even a sample in hand.

Still, I'm glad to have tried it after the fulsome review in The Guide. And, then, it's always good to try something waywayway out of one's comfort zone -- if only to confirm the rightness of one's tastes.

A winner ... and the coming weeks

The winner of the Carillon pour un Ange draw is london (I have your email addie and will contact). Congrats! As with all past draws on this blog, the winner was picked at random by the man-cub (ie, I gave him a number range between 1 and X [with X being the last entry] and he shot back a number).

I will be back with a perfume post on Monday. After that, posting will be up and down depending on packing (the boxes have arrived!) and activities.

A reminder that there will be another give-away on the site during the week of 9 August, which is moving week. Things should, I hope, return to regularity posting-wise from 16 August.

Have a wonderful weekend!

A very special give-away

As promised in the Summer Solstice newsletter and hinted at in earlier posts here, this week sees one very special post and give-away. This will be the extent of my blogging for this week, running from today through Friday, with the winner posted on Saturday, 24 July.

In concert with Tauer Perfumes, Scent-and-Sensibility Perfume is giving away one bottle of the currently limited release (only available at Lucky Scent in the US or through the Tauer Perfumes website) lily of the valley-centred fragrance Carillon pour un Ange.

I am deeply deeply excited and pleased to be able to do this. I've had a small sample of this for several months (if you are a follower of Andy Tauer's blog, the working name for this was Gabriel). It is a very beautiful and unusual green floral, with a dusky drydown.

Importantly, along with the limited release Andy is doing rather special charity event. This is an ebook about lily of the valley (I am having trouble with the pdf -- if you would like a copy, email info@scent-and-sensibility.co.uk with Tauer LOTV in the subject line and I'll send it along) called A Moment with Lily of the Valley , and you are invited to send in items for inclusion. Per Tauer Perfumes, "Anything goes: You write us a poem, draw us a picture, or write us a story". As long as it is about LOTV.

The project coincides with the five-year anniversary of Andy's blog and the re-launch of the Tauer Perfumes site (www.tauerperfumes.com).

Submissions can either be emailed (LOV@tauerperfumes.com) or mailed (TAUER GmbH, Re: LOV, Limmattalstrasse 63, 8049 Zurich, Switzerland).

SEND US YOUR CONTRIBUTION

Send this statement together with your contribution ” I confirm that I have full copyright on my contribution. It is my original work and not copyright protected anywhere. I agree to pass on my copyrights on the contribution to Tauer and Luckyscent for later publication of my contribution in print, ebook, or both. Tauer and Luckyscent may publish my NAME and my WEBSITE together with my contribution in print, ebook or both and for communicating on my contribution. Tauer and Luckyscent may use my e-mail and personal information to contact me about my contribution and its publication.”

YOUR NAME for publication: __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
YOUR WEBSITE for publication: __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

The statement noted in green must be included with your submission. 

The bottle of Carillon pour un Ange is 15ml in size. Partial notes list is as follows: rose, ylang ylang, lilac, LOTV, jasmine, leather, moss and woody notes.

As is the case with all past give-aways on the blog, this is available for shipping within the UK only.

So. If you would like to be entered in the give-away please leave a comment as follows: 1) say you would like to be entered and 2) tell us something about lily of the valley (doesn't have to be scientific -- just something you feel about the flower, an association, a memory, etc).

Last entry by midnight on Friday, 23 July.

Jasmine in the air

If you've read yesterday's post you'll know we are moving in around five weeks. I live in a rather special little pocket of north-west London, in a conservation area of small terraced houses built in the late 19th century by the Midland Railway for its workers. If you google 'railway terraces' you're reasonably likely to land on a link to this place.

It's a beautiful little area, with lawns stretching between the backs of two of the streets of houses. A section of lawn is deeded to each house (ie, these aren't owned communally -- rather, each plot is owned by a house-holder, but the land has remained joined up for many many years). Great place for young children, as they can play on the lawn and various parents sort of take turns making sure no one strays out of the gates at either end of the terrace. I've loved living here, as has the man-cub, but he's reaching the age where he wants to venture farther afield etc so it's the perfect time for both of us to be moving on. The buyers of my house have a young family. I expect this situation will suit them very well.

Anyway, growing within this contained area of three single lane streets (plus some small cross streets) is a lot of jasmine -- and I do mean a lot. I have written about my lovely, pongy jasmine (which is finally happy and growing again after a shock from this winter's cold weather). It actually was birthed from a tendril I took from a bush a few terraces over.  My next door neighbour to the right has a huge jasmine which is covered in bloom. This one is a more soapy variety, with smaller, darker green leaves. Each time I leave my garden gate I get a waft of it -- a soft, lush fragrance almost lilting over (this neighbour is one of the few things I won't miss about living here: the woman of the house is a screamer, and when she loses her temper everyone else gets to have the experience too).

Now, around to the terrace lawn itself, a few summers ago, I planted another type of jasmine against one of the walls. It's finally come into its own this summer. This is a soapy, small-leafed one as well. It sits next to a winter blooming honeysuckle, so there is fragrance in that part of the terrace mid-summer through December.

I have said before that jasmine is one of my most beloved smells, though I find it difficult, as a note, to find fragrances I can wear.

I wore Patou Joy many years ago, but my chemistry really brought out the rose in that. It was definitely a skanky fragrance on my skin, but more skanky hot summer rose than full blown jasmine. I had a go at Serge Lutens A La Nuit, but it was too floral and not enough skank. Jasmine to me isn't a 'pretty' flower -- rather, somewhat dark and very carnal. I've worked my way through various other rose-jasmine combos and jasmine soliflores and just found mostly this is a note that doesn't work that well on my chemistry.

So, I've sort of set to wondering what combo in a fragrance would work on my skin. I wouldn't want to crowd the jasmine, which would be the main point, so here is a notes grouping I think might be worked into something I wouldn't turn sour: a top of something camphorous (like you find in SL Tuberose Criminelle), which could move into a heart of jasmine, orange flower and a whisper of unsweet vanilla (lush skank?), finishing with a very unsweet drydown of amber and leather (ie, birch tar?).

Tell me, is there something out there like this already and I've just missed it?

I'm planning on rooting a tendril of my jasmine this week. Wouldn't want to lose that wonderful skank.

Scent of change?

Change is in the air? Yeah, well, we'll pitch for cliches today.

Thing is, big change is afoot for me, the man-cub, and Scent-and-Sensibility Perfume. And this means the blog will be a bit hither and thither over the next five-six weeks.

You see, we'll be moving -- from London to Devon -- in five weeks.

What does this mean? you ask.

*Well, key for the site, it will mean more room for perfume stock (watch this space in the autumn).

*It shouldn't change shipment timing at all.

*Regarding Scent Gatherings, it will mean access if you live in the South-West and a bit farther afield, potentially somewhat eastward (to Portsmouth way) and up to Bristol. I will continue to do Gatherings in London on a regular basis (probably every couple of months).  

I will definitely be doing blog entries over this period, but not on the mostly regular basis of the past year and a bit. Things will slot back into place in late August.

A few things to take note of:

1) There will be only one blog entry for the week of 19 July. This will be a give-away -- and a rather enchanting and interesting surprise.

2) Another give-away is planned for the week of 9 August.

So, please don't stop visiting and definitely have a look on the weeks mentioned above.

Two more manic weeks of school and then the packing starts. Wish me luck!

Another beautiful game ... and the smells of summer

No, I'm not talking football. Rather, a post on NowSmellThis dredged this up.

We're talking baseball here, one of the key sports of the Americas and Canada. Even though I've lived in the UK for over ten years, enjoy cricket, and did watch quite a few of this year's World Cup matches, my sports heart is owned by baseball.

My ex-husband, who is British but who I met in the US, liked baseball a great deal even though he called it 'sophisticated rounders'. In fact, we bonded over our mutual love for the game. We met and became an item over the summer of 1987, which was the year the New York Mets, the team both of us supported, made it into the World Series. The Mets won the Series in a grouping of games that were historically awesome. Truly magical.

Now, baseball is all about ritual, so it's no wonder I like it so much. And, if this piques your interest, there are a number of very good films that are worth seeking out: Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, Eight Men Out, Major League, and A League of Their Own (which even has Madonna in it).

The great American poet Walt Whitman liked baseball apparently.

It's also worth knowing about the two leagues (at least in my humble opinion): the American and the National.

The Mets are in the National League. The other New York team, the Yankees, are in the American.

We do not like the American League, specifically because of something called the 'designated hitter'. You see, in the National League the pitcher (equivalent position to a bowler) has to take turns at bat just like all the other players. In the American League, another player is 'designated' to bat in place of the pitcher. Complete pants. Cop out. Whathaveyou.

Anyway. Baseball stadiums are cathedrals and like all such institutions have their own smell (no incense here, though). The baseball season is spring, through summer, into autumn. New York summers are generally hot, so you get a wonderful swirling fragrance mixture of hot dogs, beer, popcorn and big chewy pretzels (the big ones that you have with mustard). Plus sweat and the green of New York humid heated air. Add in tangible excitement and what a combo. Electric.

I don't miss that much about living in the US beyond people (well, also cheaper clothes shopping, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Detroit Institute of Art, and really good Mexican, Chinese, Italian, and Japanese food plus amazing pizza, among some other things) -- I live here now. Most of our visits back to the States seem to have taken place during the colder months (the man-cub is obsessed with experiencing a real snowstorm).

But, every once in a while I get wistful specifically for baseball:

*the anticipation of and the walk into the stadium;
*the yell of 'play ball' that comes right on the heels of the national anthem (not even a second of quiet: straight after the last word of The Star Spangled Banner ['brave'] is sung 'play ball' is yelled out);
*the seventh inning stretch and singing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game';and
*yes, those smells, those singular, enchanted smells.

Sniffing with Bee ... plus, finally, a comment on L'Artisan Nuit de Tubereuse

I met up with Bee of Pitshanger Books (a customer, a Scent Gathering organiser, generally a wonderful woman, and the provider of what is the most perfect lippie shade for me, Clinique's High Impact in Very Currant) for sniffing at Liberty and then lunch at Bea's of Bloomsbury.

(I've posted a couple of times in the past about sniffing trips with others. While I do most of my sniffing alone, I really enjoy the non-solo jaunts for a number of reasons, not least of which is the challenge of having to verbalize one's impressions immediately after having them. Good practice.)

What total fun -- and useful too because Bee runs a small business, knows a hell of a lot about lots of things I need to learn about, and imparts info in a user-friendly, ever-so-slightly-ironic way. And she tells loads of wonderful stories as well.

So. We hooked up in Liberty's fragrance hall and started working our way around.

We began with the new L'Artisan, Nuit de Tubereuse, which I've been wanting to sample for an age (more on that below); worked our way through Goutal Ninfeo Mio (green, green, green); commented on the awfulness of the bottle for Van Cleef & Arpel Oriens (didn't even get near the juice, which I have read is a refined fruity-floral); Bee did Etro Messe de Minuit on skin to check out whether it filled that churchy requirement; we noted the interesting glass bells near the Kurkdjian fragrances; worked our way over towards the Byredos and Malles on the glass counter (which is near a round table covered in deeply discounted stuff -- see Andy Tauer's comments on his blog about a similar setup at Harrods currently), pausing for a sniff of the new Byredo, Palermo (bitter orange marmalade -- if you're into that sort of thing); commented, ironically, on the shelves of masculines in the corner -- "giving the boys some guidance" (tried Piguet Cravache -- didn't leave a strong impression, but we agreed it was certainly a scent a male could be let out of the house wearing); visited with the Comme des Garcons Incense series and Harissa from the Red series (hot, really hot on paper -- and really interesting -- will have to revisit); and wound up back at the L'Artisans, so I did Nuit de Tubereuse on skin.

This is arresting stuff indeed. Starts out with a serious vegetal note, which lasts a good half hour on my skin -- and is deeply quirkily beautiful. Now, if the fragrance kept that aspect for several hours, it would be love -- because it is that enchanting. Instead, it shifts over into a more orthodox, buttery tuberose from there on, which is very lovely, but nowhere near as astonishing as that first half hour.

The fragrance has very good lasting power on me for a L'Artisan: still there after seven hours. If you're a tuberose addict, I think is a must-try.

Anyway, onward. The Messe de Minuit had started with a very strong frankincense aspect on Bee. So, we ignored it for a while and checked out some outrageous feather fascinators.

Then, we went off on the 55 bus to Bea's for lunch.

Two small mixed salad plates later, we were ranging round subjects from hither to thither. Places lived in the UK; good old-fashioned customer service; one fragrance vs a 'fragrance wardrobe'; buying in stock (books vs perfume); naturals vs aromachemicals in perfume (we're both on the side of better living through chemistry).

The zucchini (not courgette) cakes were pretty nice. The composed salads were beautifully composed, with both containing fruit (mine had strawberries).

We got round, after lingering over the lunch plates, to a raspberry fairy cake for Bee and a strawberry tart for me.

Then, (what felt like) all of a sudden it was time to go and we made for the Central Line at Chancery Lane. On the way, a last sniff of Messe de Minuit, which had calmed down into a deep proper incense. Into the heat of the station, on to the stifling train, parting at Tottenham Court Road, where I got the Northern Line.

All in, a seriously wonderful few hours -- definitely to be done again (many times).

Mixing the soup

I am working on a big post that will go up at some point over the weekend.

So, in the meantime...

It is still gloriously hot here, meaning the under-achieving jasmine has finally got its groove on and the honeysuckle is over-achieving for the first year. My little garden looks on the edge of explosion -- and smells rather extraordinary. Out there at midday is an incredible melange of fragrance: the lush, sweet animalics ever-so-slightly tempered by the more herbal lavender -- and throw in the loamy fruitiness of the man-cub's strawberries too.

If April is the cruelest month (I don't agree with this, by the way) July this year looks to be the maddest. I took down the wall calendar to show the man-cub what he and I would be up to for the next four weeks, together and separately. He just stood there, his mouth opening in one of the oh-so-sweet "ohhhhs" you sometimes see on gob-smacked children.

Now, onward. The third segment of the Twilight series has been released as a film. This is Eclipse. I have read a review and am afraid I will definitely be seeing this (film number 1 was reasonable; apparently number 2 was rubbish). As no one is ever likely to transition my current vampire reading to the big screen (or even the small) I need to get my visual fix somewhere.

Oh, and my suggestion for the day is a visit to Andy Tauer's blog to read about rabbits (really, you've got to do this) -- so, go here: www.tauerperfumes.com and click on the blog link.

So. Just because I'm curious:

*Anything non-perfume you are lemming (not a term I use that much in this blog, but it's big on the boards -- means have a big desire for)?
*Anything perfume you are aching to try?
*Next film you want to see?
*The music that has been on or in your head recently?

Me:
*Besides something really big, which I'll talk about in a month, I want a pair of Le Canadienne flat boots. Yes, I know it's summer here but I've seen these and they've stuck.
*Well, I finally managed to sample the L'Artisan Nuit de Tubereuse and it's def all that too. See the big weekend post referred to above.
*I did say it, but I'm afraid I'll be at an afternoon showing of Eclipse some time soon.
*A few weeks ago, Rich was mucking about showing me YouTube clips of the aria that appears at the start of the film Diva. So, that's hung around in my brain, interspersed with a rather odd new vesion of American Woman which I found on the Pink Manhattan blog.