Fragrances -Yves Saint Laurent - Opium Fleur de Shanghai
MelissaM 9/7/2007 11:53:00 AM
What a wonderful interpretation of Opium! I like this variation because long after the drydown, the florals linger, giving Shanghai and edge that the others do not have. It definitely weilds the power of the exotic; smelling this fragrance makes me feel far removed from the American and European fragrance tradition; it does strongly evoke the type of scent one might expect to find indigenous to Shanghai. (Nice touch, YSL!) You cannot get away from the strong powderiness intrinsic to Opium and all of its variants, however, which is why I would not personally purchase this again. But I can see how it would be lovely on other people.
I recently purchased Pure Poison Perfumed Deoderant Natural Spray and was pleasantly surprised by the relative mellowness of this scent compared to the rest of the Poison line. It has a very distinct powdery/soapy note that made me immediately identify it as a scent that I'd smelled on numerous other women before - and rather liked. However, I don't like this scent on myself; it simply is not "me." It's more of a personality thing, not a comment about the perfume itself, which is very lovely and unique. I've decided to use the Pure Poison as a room spray and forgo actually wearing it. Only one spray, and the enture room smells very nice. Great staying power on this one.
One thousand overly-ripe roses shriek in the middle of the night. Bizarre formaldehyde overtones, oddly reminiscent of Paloma Picasso. Sooooo 80's. My apologies, but I don't get the appeal of Rose de Nuit.
Fragrances -Yves Saint Laurent - Opium Orchidee de Chine
MelissaM 8/21/2007 2:37:00 PM
I can't complain too loudly about Orchiee de Chine, as I went into this purchase knowing that i wasn't an Opium fan. The original actively repulses me, and honestly? You really *must* love Opium to truly "enjoy" this fragrance. The florals come out in the first two or three minutes after application, giving the Orchidee a nice rare edge ... then it dries down into a soft powdery Opium Lite. Okay, to be fair, it you press your nose up against your skin, some of the floralness remains. But from a distance, it's not detectable. Orchidee reminds of the sexless, older-market, powdery-sweet fragrances I used to sample in my grandmother's family drugstore. It's not disgusting, but I wouldn't wear it often, and I certainly wouldn't wear it out to dinner (too powdery-sweet).
Fragrances -Unlisted Brand - Profumum - Acqua di Sale
MelissaM 8/7/2007 2:50:00 PM
This is a really pretty scent. Opens with a truly unique marine note that is spot on, then fades to .... ack! Tanning lotion? Not tanning lotion of the American/Coppertone variety, but expensive European tanning lotion. The kind that sells for many francs at a chi-chi boutique somewhere in Paris. But tanning lotion all the same. The nice marine note disappears entirely. Something in this blend smells like musk. I would purchase this in a heartbeat if it were 75% off, but I can't justify the cost. Like most of the Profumums I've tried, it's just not that unique.
A fragrance for a mature gentleman. Opens with a beautiful blast of ozoney goodness (hence the name, perhaps?), but dries down to something musty and powdery and old-fashioned. I definitely get the old man's closet note going; this is a fragrance that a man might have worn at the turn of the century. It has a very "dated" smell, sort of like the Hoyt's Colognes did way back when. Not very sexy to me. Whatever you do, don't buy sight unsmelled when it comes to this one - the name is very misleading. I nearly purchased first, and am so glad that I didn't - I would have been out a lot of $$$!
Fragrances -Unlisted Brand - miller et bertaux 1 parfum trouve for you
MelissaM 4/22/2007 7:58:00 PM
I can't seem to go wrong with Miller et Bertaux fragrances. Strangely enough, I waited until Trouve For You was on sale before purchasing due to the fact that when I sampled it against Spiritus, the Spiritus came out the clear victor. My nose can discern the rose, but paired up with those yummy spices, what I get is a very exotic, smoky carnation-like scent; the rose itself lingers as an afternote, barely whispering. On my skin, the curried fruit is nowhere, which is perhaps a good thing, now that it's spring. Like all Miller et Bertaux fragrances, this transports the wearer to a very specific mood. Trouve is beautiful, dark, and romantic, very goth lite ... and at the same time, it evokes a beautiful, melancholy sadness, as though one is looking at memento mori of a dead child. I cannot believe I waited this long to purchase.
I find myself sharing trinity's experience. Temperare 01 is nothing like I expected; in fact, it was more! I get predominantly pear and cardamom - sweet, but not overtly so. I also detect a smooth, velvety white chocolate note, nothing dark or moody about this chocolate at all (if one wanted to boost the chocolate, I suppose layering it with something like CSP Amour de Caocao would do the trick). This is a very happy, pleasant scent that's not overtly "perfumey" and not overtly "foody" - it's really something in between, just a nice, friendly, wearable scent. Lasts about 5-6 hours on me. Winner!
This is a perfect summer day in a bottle - but not just any summer day, a summer day from my childhood, when my older cousins used to babysit. I'm so young, I can barely even remember. They'd put their towels down in the backyard and slather on the Coppertone. The smell of the lotion and the sprinklers - a whisk of cool water -- created a wonderful perfume. Add the rays of a cheery June sun, and there you have it. At the Beach 1966. I challenge anyone to be unhappy while wearing this scent.
Even if Christopher Brosius didn't have a website describing the inspirational moments behind his various creations, you'd know that Winter 1972 is a memory specific only to him; it has that personal, confidential quality that almost makes you feel as though the two of you are good pals. Good enough to share with you a moment in time that harkens back to a stage of innocence and purity. Winter 1972 is more of a personal essence or an aura rather than perfume, per se, which makes it almost impossible to ascertain specific notes. According to the web site, Winter 1972 is, "... a field of untouched new fallen snow, hand knit woolen mittens covered with frost, a hint of frozen forest & sleeping earth." Only heaven - and Mr. Brosius - really know what's in it, but to my nose, it doesn't have the coolness he describes. It's a clean, warm, comfortable, cuddly scent - Eau de First Boyfriend. If a fragrance can have a genuinely naive quality, this one owns. Unlike most commerical fragrances, with their layers and layers of mystery, it cannot tell a lie. It's the smell of freshly-washed sheets stretched out over a bunkbed, a new wool sweater pulled over your head, playing Monopoly in a cozy rumpus room, a sleepover with all the girls giggling over their secret crushes. This fragrance is very close to the skin and stands alone very well without layering; in fact, it would be a crime to layer it. I would want to sleep very close to someone wearing Winter 1972.
White Petals has been my biggest disappointment from Keiko Mecheri. This fragrance is not in any way remotely like the white flowers one might typically expect unless it's a huge horkin' full bloomin' magnolia shoved right in your nose. Very lemony in an oddly floral way, too, like magnolias tend to be, very brash and in-your-face. Yet at the same time, something about this fragrance seems incomplete, as though the perfumeur constructed White Flowers as a base for something else to build on. Alone, it is far too harsh and acidic to be totally wearable. It might have possibility if layered with another fragrance (gardenia? jasmine?), or perhaps to tame a too-cloying white floral scent.
Just when I thought that there was no smoke fragrance to surpass Chergui, enter Fumerie Turque, Chergui's dashing, older brother, the one with the high cheekbones and long, gypsy-black hair who has spent the past decade traveling the world and collecting plenty of experiences. I won't go into the notes in detail, as other reviewers have covered that base. FT has been compared to Chergui a lot, and while there are distinct similarities (distinct tobacco smoke/tobacco notes), FT is hotter and dryer, conveying a worldliness sophistication that Chergui lacks. FT has a definite story to tell - many stories, in fact. Personally? I smell the essence of Cairo, the lobby of the Shepherd Hotel, the small bazaars where spearmint tea is served in tiny silver cups. If there were a scent made to capture the scent of the Sahara in the dead of night, FT would be it. I would love to smell this on a man.
First, this is clearly a man's scent. It couldn't be more obvious if I doused myself in Aqua Velva. But if you're a lady who can carry it off, more power to you. Even I, with my odd skin that turns everything sweet, smell like a gussied-up sailor on shore leave. This scent has a depressing retro-aftershave quality that I can't get past, like something men might have wore in the 1950's. Something very cheap, available at every drugstore in every small town. My nose picks out one or two of the notes, but in the final analysis, there is just too much going on in this fragrance, thus rendering it rather innocuous, a sad, generic little scent striving to live up to its Uber-hyped perfume house's reputation. Fou d'Absinthe might work best if it were more transparent - it would also loose a lot of its generic aftershavey quality, too. I wouldn't like smelling this on men my own age, and I would never EVER give this to any man under the age of retirement. The lasting power on this stuff is insane. I wish it would go away. I think I might have to shower before I feel compelled to wander into a corner barbershop and start shooting the breeze. Ugh. What a disappointment from L'Artisan.
Alas, I have to spoil the Kisu appreciation party, but I am not picking up any of the notes that the rest of the reviewers are picking up. Kisu smells like "perfume" - common, generic perfume, the kind sold in 10-cent bottles back in the 1940's, e.g., Hoyt's Cologne. A mish-mash of everything synthetic and harsh, with no discernible notes other than pure aldehydes. The sample I purchased from Luckyscent lasted all day, which was way too long for me. One lippie for extraordinary lasting power.
This scent brings about a lot of negative memories for me, but that said, I must be objective. This is not the scary, intense incense a la Messe de Minuit, or the dancing at Woodstock hippy-child incense of Passage d'Enfer or NK Incense. Incensi is a very direct, straight-laced churchy incense that's refined in every way, perfect for first dates, office parties, and even a night wedding. I'm not smelling green, I'm not getting sweet. The cinnamon - difficult to pick out - is very dry and woody. The ginger is austere. On my skin, the basenotes pop; I can practically smell the varnished wood of the church pew and the starch in the priest's robes. Incensi is ceremonial in the way that only people who've sat through many a Catholic ceremony understand. This reminds me of my first burial rite - the smell of the church, the incense, the atmosphere it evoked for me as a child, which was fear and sorrow. For primarily this reason - and my perception that something about LV scents are a bit overly-composed to the point of anal retentive - I won't be purchasing a whole bottle. But it is a very glorious scent, perfect for those who want their incense with training wheels.