Wunderkammen

I’ve fallen in love at first sniff. I’m as surprised as anyone that it turned out to be a vanilla scent. I haven’t been able to tolerate vanilla fragrances since my ex-husband use to enjoy my adolescent self drenched in Vanilla Fields. The artificial smell of vanilla sends shudders down my spine and can repel me to the farthest corner of a well-ventilated room. Guerlain’s Spiritueuse Double Vanille has changed everything.

I bought a decant because I’d heard such great reviews but my expectation was low. How could it top the fleeting scent of vanilla extract, boozy and rich, that I used to dab behind my ears? Turns out at first spray, it transports me to that exact scent. Alcohol drenched vanilla, dark and loaded as though the vanilla was still in the pod soaking up alcohol and oozing its earthy flavor. Then, as it starts to dry pink pepper and incense that almost smells like dry tobacco leaves comes through. Not quite a perfume that tells a story, this is instead a seductive straightforward scent. It smells like a beautiful woman unafraid of the press of a crowd because no one is going to touch her that she hasn’t invited to come closer and there are many who are waiting, still, for an invitation. I find myself confident when I have it on. It makes me feel beautiful. I am the woman who found the magic elixir.

In the drydown, Double Vanille becomes tender and soft, almost like falling into a mound of pillows. It becomes a haze of itself, the frankencense and vanilla allowing something warm, woody and slightly floral to peek through, becoming delicate and warm. This is a fragrance that would carry from evening to bed, where you’re bound to be cuddled by your partner, or you may just be ready to be alone because you only require yourself and your cool, smooth sheets.

Unfortunately this is a limited edition scent and it’s harder to find now. I’m hoarding decants as though the end were near. The Perfumed Court carries it so if you’re interested head on over there. I bought myself a second decant after blowing through the first one as a holiday gift.

Notes: Vanilla, Benzoin, Frankincense, Spices, Cedar, Pink Pepper, Bergamot, Bulgarian Rose and Ylang-ylang,

Posted by Kisha at 08:17 PM ∗ Comments (0)

I am a perfume decant lover. I love decants so much that when eBay caved to pressure from companies and banned users from selling decants, I stop using the site entirely. Now, I spend my time browsing The Perfumed Court and adding things to my wishlist for later purchase.

My interest in perfume started simply enough; I was entranced by the idea of capturing moments, forever to be remembered through smell. I collected scratch and sniff stickers and placed them, meticulously, in a homemade construction paper scrapbook. My favorites were the ones that smelled the most convincing: bananas, pineapple, root beer. Then there was being able to send my mind away from whatever was happening to me by thinking about the green smell of watermelon rind and the cold, crisp indescribable scent of the fruit itself. Scents could be like words; capable of saving and transforming, creative and personal. I loved Maude’s contraption that allowed for Smell-o-Vision and wished I could have been there to try it out, too. I watch Harold and Maude over and over, partly because of that scene.

All of those decant purchases now stem from that exact same desire for something intangible and visceral: pleasurable transportation. I get the opportunity to try many scents without breaking my bank. The only two full bottles of perfume I’ve bought are Hermés Ambre Narguile and Idole de Lubin.

Idole de Lubin is the first perfume from the house of Lubin of this century and it was crafted by Olivia Giacobetti, who is a simply brilliant perfumer. At first spray, the smell of dark rum is immediate and almost overpowering. Then, suddenly the smell thickens and grows sweeter, smokier. Sugar cane is up next, and the scent takes on an almost gourmand quality, except there’s something warm underneath. Familiar. It smells like damp, clean skin. The cumin note comes off for some people as sexual, dirty. In my experience here it smells more of the human press of the dance floor, bodies sliding apart and meeting again. It’s a subtle note but there it is, reminding me of humidity and rhythm all at the same time. It’s the way that I’d want my lover to smell; or, more likely, how I’d like for them to smell me.

Somewhere in the drydown of the scent, it changes again and becomes muskier. Now I can smell the saffron note fading into the background and the smell teeters between masculine and unisex with its injection of leather, never quite falling either way. Still sweet, still rum without the booze aftertaste, still gorgeous, it’s now muted and quiet. Like a drive home after a party. It could also be the moment after you’ve kissed someone for the first time and your heart stops hammering. This is a smell I love, and one I use judiciously so I won’t ever grow tired of it.

Top notes: Rum Absolute, Saffron, Bitter Orange Peel, Black Cumin
Middle notes: Doum Palm, Smoked Ebony, Sugar Cane
Base notes: Leather and Red Sandalwood

Idole de Lubin can be purchased here.

Posted by Kisha at 05:44 PM ∗ Comments (0)

Tuberose, usually waxy and pungent, is a love/hate note for me when it comes to perfume. Done well, it’s fleshy and warm. Done poorly, it’s clingy and saccharine; the stereotype of ladies who lunch (and behave) feminity. The scents I love that include tuberose (usually Gardenia since the two flowers share similarities) use it subtly, drawing out other florals and emphasizing their beauty with tuberose as an accent. Until recently.

Frédéric Malle’s Carnal Flower, created by Dominique Ropion has changed my mind. There’s no getting away from the tuberose in this scent. It pushes at you, dares you to turn away from it and reminds you that underneath the delicate petals of its bloom, it has a sinewy quality that reinforces life in a way you can’t ignore. Reportedly, this perfume contains the highest concentration of the flower on the market today.

The first blast once dabbed on is a heady menthol; cool, sharp and almost medicinal. Then the tuberose slides in and you feel the heat of it before the smell even hits your nose. I’m here, it announces and wraps itself around you. As it starts to drydown, the smell shifts again and suddenly there’s a faint trace of melon that wasn’t noticible before. A watery honeydew maybe. Barely perceptible beside the even lighter coconut note. It gives it a tender, sweet touch. It’s dense, and opulent without being overwhelming. Beautiful. Unapologetically sexy; never fragile.

The first time I ever saw a woman I wanted to be desperately it was Dorothy Dandridge playing Carmen in her now famous film Carmen Jones. There she was, fire and ice, passion and steely gaze, willing to say anything she thought and unwilling to compromise — unless she was protecting her freedom. The way she’d tilt her chin and focus those eyes on you for the longest moment. I sat breathless in awe of her and wanted to become her all at once.

When I wear this scent, I think of Carmen and Dorothy herself. Ready to be bloodied for being who she was, but she’d take you with her. In her good time.

Posted by Kisha at 01:18 AM ∗ Comments (0)