A bright, peppy, fresh rose, with a hint of greenery and soapy musk, and a slightly sweet woody drydown. Blows your granny's roses right out of the water. A new contender (closely following Sa Majesté La Rose) for the title of my favourite rose fragrance.
Updated 21st November 2009 at 05:09 AM by kopah
Weird pairing, I know. But they're what's left!
Cherry Blossom (Parfum) – This is a remarkably sheer, refreshing, faintly sweet floral fragrance that seems tailor-made for summer. Apparently this is the kind of scent that’s a big hit in the Asian market (particularly Japan), since they prefer much lighter scents; I guess this explains Osmanthe Yunnan (Hermès is incredibly popular with Japanese women). Personally I can’t see how this would even be detectable by anyone other than trained
Updated 21st November 2009 at 05:10 AM by kopah
Nahéma (Parfum) – A rose-scented boot stamping on a human face; or, what Armageddon would smell like if nuclear bombs were fuelled with roses instead of plutonium. This is no kind of delicate or discreet. This is the Attack of the 50-Foot Rose Chypre. Miranda Priestly might have found it a bit overbearing.
Vol de Nuit (Parfum) – I can definitely see how people consider this a unisex fragrance. It’s woodier than I remember it being from
I’m feeling laconic today, and testing these mid-to-late 20th-century Guerlains is tiresome. Tomorrow is going to be L’Heure Bleue and Vol de Nuit, just because I need to love again.
Chamade (EDT) – Unless I’m mistaken, it’s another rose chypre. It smells rather like Nahéma, except less powdery. Would make a decent Rose Barbare substitute for the budget-conscious.
[Sidebar: Could someone please explain to me why bloggers
Updated 21st November 2009 at 05:11 AM by kopah
Attrape-Coeur – What is it about sandalwood that leaves me cold? Okay, fine, it’s nice. It’s a perfectly decent, harmless note (except in Lutens’ hands, where it turns into some kind of Indian-cooking monstrosity). But my reaction to Attrape-Coeur is the same as to Chanel’s Bois des Îles (EDT): meh. Maybe if I were to smell Bois des Îles in vintage parfum (hint hint), I could appreciate the beauty of real, natural Indian sandalwood that everybody always raves about. As it is, I’m not going to tax