Fragrance Reviews by Sunnyfunny

This one is warmer and spicier than I remember, and deeper, too. I definitely get patchouli, more so than in Chance; and while Chance blooms in the heat, Coco Mlle. is a little stifling. In the end, it is a mildly sweet fruity floral, and my skin probably doesn't do it justice. It's too heavy for me to want to wear in the heat, and not dark or rich enough for me to place it with my cooler weather orientals.

There's lots of jasmine in the opening of this one, ans ass it begins tosettle something a little bitter comes out. It dances with the jasmine, rarely taking the lead, often just on the precipice of perception, but always there. It is the complex flower that dominates, beautiful, sweet, and strong. Joy is beauty amidst darkness, and I'm reminded of where, how, and why this perfume came to be. I feel knowing its full story is integral to the full appreciation of Joy. I feel beautiful in this perfume.

This is not the first time I've had to eat my words regarding a perfume I tried years ago. I wasn't into it then. Today it is beautiful; soft and powdery, sweet, spicy, and floral, refined, elegant, and assertive. This one is special. I don't see this as an everyday scent, either. It is also very strong, something that out me off it those years ago, but that I love about it now, that I have learned to fear no sillage!

Let me first say that I had an experience with this one today-- I smelled something unfamiliar and terribly lovely, only to happily realize, "Oh, that's me!" In the crook of my elbow, it has lasted a generous amount of time. I feel I could wear this anywhere this summer.

Un Jardin Apres La Mousson evokes just that-- a lush, wet garden. But it does so in the lightest, most transparent of manners! It opens smoothly aquatic, then delivers a peppery burst, settling down into a fresh, but never sharp, green with a soft, cool melon note dancing in the background. The pepperiness lingers, somehow cooling the fragrance, as if providing a reminder that there are still clouds overhead that could once again open up and drench the green at any time.

I don't get the name in conjunction with what Silver Rain actually smells like. It isn't evocative of anything fresh or sparkling. The fruit and the anise fight with each other, and the flowers linger, barely perceptible, in the background. I can see the anise and patchouli plausibly working (the transition from one to the other was the most seamless in this composition), but patch is a difficult note for me to begin with, and in the context of the rest of the perfume, it is dischordant. It all feels like a mishmash of notes, not in harmony with each other...at least, not on my skin.

Red Door behaves demurely on my skin, neither strong nor sickly. It reminds me of old candles-- the ones in the textured colored glass jars. I had one such candle in my room for a while growing up. I'm not sure where it came from or how old it was, but and its fragrance had *almost* faded, but there were light, perceptable white flowers and ever-present waxiness. So it is with Red Door. It is a bit of a nostalgic throwback, which probably wasn't its creators' intention. It's novel, to me, but not something I'll wear again.

Heaven is a bouquet of clean, freshly picked white flowers tied together with a strip of blue gingham cloth. It is as lighthearted as a barefooted romp through an open field.

It is described as a pure white bouquet, headlined by jasmine, which I have come to learn I like very much. It stays true, but it doesn't last much over two hours. This isn't a huge issue, though, because refreshing with that opening blast is cool and lovely.

I dabbed on a little Pink Sugar before bed last night, thinking it would be a fun, sweet little scent to fall asleep to. And I was right! It isn't the sparkly, princess-y, completely over-the-top sugar bomb I expected. It is sweet, to be sure, but the bergamot 'grows it up' a bit. I love the idea of spritzing some Pink Sugar onto my pillowcase at night. It does conjure up fluffy pink images, but those of sliding out of some soft, fluffy slippers, into silky pjs, slipping under a plush comforter and sinking into a cool pillow.
A cheerful, happy winner in my book!

I'd have never known there are peaches in Mitsouko if it weren't written in the notes and if that wasn't one of the reasons people like it so much. It is all oakmoss on me, very much like the Caron base, but richer and more sustaining. I love it because it is so deep without being overly formal or melancholy. It is beautiful, easy to wear and suits whatever mood I'm in.

My skin has a way of rendering Serge Lutens fragrances unspectacular at best.  And so, as I applied FdB this morning, it said something like "Oop-- this just turned into a Serge!  You lose!"  and proceeded to completely destroy this so highly praised fragrance.  I immediately got cumin.  Yes, cumin, and so unwilling was this cumin to share the stage of my inner wrist with its fellow accords that I was grateful for its complete lack of sillage.

I should say here that I am very much a fan of a 'clean' fragrance. Cumin at any point renders a fragrance unwearable to me, even if it is providing a bed for fragrant, sensuous flowers, as it does in Kingdom. For this particular fragrance to turn so sweaty on me was very surprising, especially since for its duration, that was all I got; singular cumin.

FdB stayed very close to my skin and then *poof* it was gone before the four hour mark by which I judge a fragrance as being worthy.
A little bummed and unsated, I reapplied when I got home, and this time it was a little bit very soft fruit and incense. That dirty little cumin note was still there, but had learned to share during the course of the day. My husband smelled pine tree hanging from a rear view mirror, the first time woods even entered the equation. And this time....the stuff didn't last an hour.

The only things worse about this fragrance than its name are its sillage and longevity. Too bad, because it really is quite pretty.
I get a little mustiness at the very beginning, then it's very faint frankincence and myrrh which I have to strain to smell into its second hour.

Can this house do no wrong?I'm not convinced this is supposed to be a skin fragrance, mostly due to reports of zero longevity.  Indeed, Royal Bain de Caron lasted all of 15 minutes on my skin.  But what a beautiful 15 minutes it was!  Sweet and floral, slightly powdery and spicy, with that delectable Caron signature.  I love the idea of a few drops of this in the bath water.

What a funny little fragrance this is.  It reminds me of the fair, whether it means to or not.  I don't know if it's that honey and hay imagery getting the best of my senses, but I am reminded of a hot summer day at a country carnival; clad in sandals and a sundress, walking atop asphalt and dirt strewn with hay.  Games surround, with their bright colors and flashing lights, the occasional bll ringing, indicating a winner; ferris wheel rising above the background, screams from the rollercoaster, and the smells of cotton candy and elephant ears made less sweet by bitter hot asphalt and the sharpness of stacked haybales.Chergui doesn't last long on me, five hours at best.  I did not wish it to come back.  It is fun enough, out of the ordinary, but for me, maybe a little too virtual reality.  It shares a note with Aomassai that is sharply medicinal and burns my nostrils.  Maybe it is the hay?  Chergui is sweeter through and through, though, which tempers the hay and makes it more wearable for me than Aomassai. 

Deci Dela shares a synthetic, high-end jelly candy quality that's present in another I've tried recently, Mukhallat, but without the exoticism, richness, and imagination. But those qualities don't appear to be the aim of this perfume, anyway.
DD opens with a blast of maraschino cherries. It then settles into some very clean flowers, surprising me by not being as sweet as the opening implies. The maraschino note comes creeping back in and holds steady for the next couple hours.
DD strikes me as a very young perfume, and reminds me of Shirley Temple singing "On the Good Ship Lollipop."

Patchouli? Where? I don't smell any patch. I didn't smell any chocolate in Borneo 1834. How funny.

Anyway.

Angel went terribly, horribly wrong on me but smells so intriguing in the vial that I kept trying to make it work. A*Men smells similar in the vial, but not in a good way, so I really wasn't excited to try it. Well, now that I've tried A*Men, I can safely pass on my Angel samp.
Angel is all red berries and bergamot on me, and A*Men is all chocolate. Of the perfumes I've tried stating chocolate as an accord, this is the only one that has delivered. It's fun, bittersweet, devils food cake chocolate, and I kind of like it! A*Men definitely won't go into my regular rotation, at least not any time soon, but I will hold on to this sample and wear it when I feel a chocolate craving coming on.

I very much like and appreciate jenson's review because I can indeed see a different side of Mukhallat.
I don't like it on me. It is saccharine sweet and a bit medicinal. And after learning how to appreciate it, I don't think it's an easy one to wear. On someone exotic this could be a very intriguing scent...intriguing on a woman, but even more so on a man.
I give it one star for how it smells on me. But I give it a thumbs up for its possibilities, and how it has opened my mind.

This one opened up really sweet, a fruit note that didn't smell like lemon to me. Then it dries down into very soft, powdery lemons and the only real fault I can find with it is that it flits in and out of perceptibility.

My experience with this one is vastly different from those who describe Aomassai as sweet, warm, or inviting. I expected this to be like a richer, more nuanced Tutti Dolci Creme Brulee, and it was, for a couple minutes at the beginning. Then Aomassai became coolly medicinal, burning my nostrils like a camphor or a menthol. (Maybe that's the celery? or the woods? both?) This persisted for nine hours. Underneath that heavy, chilly blanket slept something vaguely resembling a gourmand. The idea of this one is intriguing, and it probably is, on someone who wears it well. But I don't wear it well.

I've been so excited to try this one, and I'm glad I have.  The opening blast reminds me of one of the local monastery's fruitcakes, freshly soaked in rum.  This is very much a good thing, and intriguing, too.  After those settled down, I alternately smelled what must be the bitter chocolate and the patchouli.  Eventually the patch takes over and turns a little sour on my skin.  Sillage is non-existent for three hours, then, as the patch aserts its dominance, sillage becomes apparent.  The funny thing is, I was intrigued by Borneo 1834 during the first couple hours.  I kept sniffing my wrist, thinking, 'It's not pretty, but it is interesting...and kind of cool.'  I was hoping the chocolate would share the stage a little bit.  But this upsurge of patch is a little too sharp for me.

This one is okay.  I was pleasantly surprised, as I don't like Hanae Mori on a blotter and I don't like it on the gal at work who wears too much on occasion.  Whatever it is that makes it smell like vanilla is smooth, easier on my nose than the sharp vanilla in Dior Addict. Its light, tropical fruits are blended in a way that makes it a little more sophisticated than the dessert scents it seems to want to be grouped with. It is a little bit refined despite itself. Hanae Mori is definitely at its best when applied sparingly. It is still just too sweet for me, though.

This one seems pretty enough, but has NO sillage and NO lasting power on me. I wish I had takemyhusbandplz's experience of incense, spice, and woods, but I didn't. The citrusy top notes were the strongest. It wears like soft, watered down rose and vanilla on me. I couldn't discern much else because it was so weak.

I like and agree with Tvlampboy's review! There's not much else I can add.
As far as gourmands go, this is the most elegant one I've yet tried.
It's very sweet burnt sugar and that lovely, musky rose that's a little bit creamy. Four hours in, it becomes powdery and on the verge of being too sweet but *something* keeps it from becoming so, and that is also what makes this fragrance interesting and outside the norm.
I would totally pay $25 for this!

The first thing I thought of whe I smelled this was 'Hey, this smells like Tresor!' Maybe a little sweeter, and less musky. Mind you, I haven't worn Tresor for years, but Magnifique smells similar to my memory.
The saffron top note is my favorite part, and it doesn't last near long enough. Then it becomes really, really sweet berries. I don't think it's horrible, either-- it's just not something I'd ever wear again.

I got the bergamot right out of the vial. Then Allure Sensuelle morphed from something I wasn't to ointerested in to something really full and warm. Its name is fitting, as it smells creamy, soft, and sensual, both in the harmony of its drydown and in the exact combination of its notes. Maybe it's all in that 'sensual note' (whatever that is.)
I got mild vanilla at what I thought was the end, and I was a little disappointed in the longevity. It didn't end there after all, though. There is a quiet spot right after the flowers and the vanilla, which gently ushers in the spicy and somewhat surprising amber, patch, and frankincense. The flowers and vanilla are my favorite part.
If I was going to wear a perfume for others, if I wanted something safe with which I might fetch compliments, I'd choose Allure Sensuelle. It is easy on the nose.

This is a review of Maja lotion. Having never smelled the original formulation, I think this Maja is just fine! It is spicy, floral, and a little bit soapy, in good harmony. I don't know that I would ever wear the perfume, but this lotion is one of the best perfumed creams I've ever used, especially for the price. No complaints here!

The opening blast was turpentine-y to me, too, but it doesn't last.  It's gone as soon as it dries, within seconds.  Then it's soft, sparkling peaches, and very faint rose, and...cumin?  I got a faint but detectable, and unfortunate, cumin note when I sniffed my wrist.  That, too, disappears, within half an hour, and it is all soft peach with what I take to be light grass taming it and keeping it from becoming too sweet.   It's really light and upon reading that it is a scent meant for children, I understand it better.  All in all, it wears fairly well on me and its lightness and lightheartedness is a surprisingly pleasant repast from my regular rotation.

I read somewhere that Ambre Narguile is an amber for amber haters. I've tried three amber scents now and I have to say that it's true, in my case. It is sweet. It smells like gingerbread, honey, pumpkin pie spices, all things warm and delicious about fall. The amber keeps me from wanting to classify it as a gourmand because it contributes something that makes it not quite edible.

And about that amber....It mingles just beautifully with the sweetness and the spices, a seamless ensemble where you are just enough aware of its biggest star. There were no longevity problems here, either. Lucky me, no? Its phases are distinct and each one quieter than the one before, winding down from the business of a sunny autumn day into a relaxing evening eating something delicious and drinking something warm, to falling into softly perfumed sheets into a peaceful slumber. This last phase was surprising and delightful-- soft flowers gently wrapped in the delicate creaminess of the amber. That, I think, is what separates this amber from others that I've tried-- the soft creaminess from something I had since known to be spicy and sharp.
Ambre Narguile is just beautiful.

The thing with this perfume is that I was given a .5 oz bottle of edp as a wedding shower gift four years ago by an older family friend of my husbamd's and had absolutely no interest in it until I saw it in a discount cataloga year or so ago. I recognized the name and wondered if it was the same as the small bottle I had stashed in the back of a drawer, which it was. I looked it up on here and, upon finding tis review page, decided that maybe I'd give it a try, which is exactly what I did, today.

Anyway, down to business. The opening blast was really alcohol-y , and I remembered why I never wanted to actully wear it. But that burns off soon enough and it becomes really flowery. I don't know if it's some sort of lily that dominates it or what, but if this scent were an actual bouquet, it would be fine. But it is not something I care to wear on my skin again.

I wondered if this was a fragrance the lady who gifted it wears, or wore at one time and wanted to share. At any rate, I respect whatever intention she had in giving it, but, sorry, it is just not for me.

As far as this gal goes, Fleurs is way too light. But I love the aldehydes and the fact that, unlike another certain aldehydic floral, it neither gives me a headache nor turns into baby lotion on me. I can wear this one-- not for long, five hours at best-- but it works on me. That isn't to say it suits my personality, but I can wear it, and that is pleasing.

I know aldehydes can be intimidating to some, but I think the lightness, subtlety, and utter prettiness of Fleurs would make it a good fragrance for a gal who isn't that into perfume.

So carnation, eh? That must be the black pepper thing I got. Carnations do smell kind of peppery, come to think of it. My husband detected cinnamon. I don't know where or why or how I would ever wear this one, but I appreciate that the right person could rock it. And, as it turns out, it lasted, like, an hour on me.

This one is a little on the quiet side for me, too (okay, maybe a lot on the quiet side), but it's just so darned pretty that I can't help but like it. That thought sent me into a very slight emotional tailspin, as I couldn't understand why my heady, oriental-gourmand-woodsy-heavy incense-y loving self would actually like how softly and demurely Parfum Sacre played out on my skin. I go back and forth on this one-- at times it feels proper and refined. Then it somehow becomes terribly romantic.

Does this really smell like Christmas or is it all in the name? I get all these beautiful Christmas visions in my head when I wear this. I get the citrus in the beginning (oranges in stockings), soft, warm flowers (lighted candles), subtle woods (the tree, of course!), and cinnamon. I think this is one of the prettiest scents I've ever worn.

This was one of those "Oh, let's just get this over with" tests. I've got a growing wish list over at TPC that I pulled this from, having initially learned about it here. It looked intriguing at first, but then the prospect of a really cumin-y fragrance that I probably wouldn't like began to pale in light of all these Carons, SL's, Guerlains, etc. that apparently must be experienced. I began to grow afraid of it, feeling I am just not brave enough for this sort of fragrance. So as I ordered, I was like, "FINE. Let's just do this." No perfume is going to tell me what to do! : )
I did NOT risk wearing this one to work, despite how utterly pretty it smells in the vial. I thought about wearing it to church. (What's an hour, even if I did smell like... umm.....cumin?) Rather, here I sit, husband watching tv, cat on my lap, clad in my most comfy clothes. The cumin came out as soon as the fragrance hit my skin. It 's blended really nicely with its flowers and the whole thing really is beautiful, if you ask me. I think it is just lovely on my skin, and one of the most intensely feminine scents I have experienced. The cumin makes it a little too risque for me to be wearing it out anywhere (especially houses of worship... : } ) but I think it is more at home in the boudoir, anyway.

WOW. ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! This makes the second sample in a row I've tested at work and then felt the need to apologize for. (I think I might be developing a rep for being stinky.) This is not soft, creamy, or warm. I'm sure it smells exactly like it is supposed to, but neither my nez nor my skin interprets it kindly. I don't think I would like this on anyone. Maybe a man would wear it better, but my husband isn't going to appease me. I just got a decant of Amber Sultan, and right out of the vial it smelled better than this one. Time will tell if AS placated me only because Extreme smells so bad, and I truly do not like amber, or if it's just, as someone else put it, solo amber that turns me. I'm waiting on Ambre Narguile, which I understand is an amber for amber haters. In the meantime, I think I will layer Extreme with Addict and see if they temper each other enough for me to actually enjoy them.

I wasn't ever going to try this one. I heard Lolita Lempicka (which I love and wear) compared to it, and not in a very attractive way. Mildly outraged, I thought, But Angel is just so unfashionably...popular! And teenagers wear it! A lot! Say it isn't so. I sprayed it on a test strip at Macy's just to ease my mind. I got pungent and peppery, mostly bergamot, none of the sweet, and none of the softness of my lovely Lolita. Yet I perceived a similarity.
My hairstylist was wearing Angel when I went in last Saturday, and on her it was spice and caramel. This isn't my idea of what I want to smell like, but she wore it very well, and I was curious to find out what my skin would do to it. So off to Nordstrom I went, trolling for samples. After much deliberation, I decided to test it on a work day. My husband's first reaction: "AUGHHH!!! WASH IT OFF!!" Then my cat started licking my wrist. I didn't take that as a good sign. It started out chocolate cake and spice, then turned into berries and spice. But not really the natural scents-- more like chocolate and berry esters, the ones you make in high school chem lab and turn into lollipops. I concluded before we left the house that I in fact smelled like the high schooler whose parents could afford to buy her a Coach bag, while the rest of the girls languished in Fantasy and Old Navy fare (not that there's anything wrong with Old Navy.) I sort of relished the idea of someone commenting on the smell, to which I would gleefully respond, "I know, isn't it horrible?" I actually apologized to my coworkers for wearing such an offensive fragrance to work and promised not to do it again. I smelled Angel throughout the day, with nary a hint of caramel, or even vanilla. Just berries and bergamot, which apparently turns peppery on me. For the better part of the day, I would catch a whiff and think ,Yep, Angel.. Is this peppery-berry thing ever going to go away? Then it happened. Hours later, during one of the busiest parts of the day, I caught a whiff and thought, That smells like Lolita.
WTF!!!
So I pondered to myself, WHY??!? The components aren't even remotely similar! I don't even like this one (in theory)! Why do they smell so similar now???
I came home and applied Lolita to one wrist and Angel to the other (one big difference-- Angel lasts about three hours less on me.) So let's get down to business. Somehow, the structures of each play out very similarly on my skin. But Angel's chocolate and caramel are perceivable next to Lolita's anise seed and licorice. The flower and greenery in Lolita make this one softer, warmer, more inviting. Angel is sharper, colder, and darn it if it isn't because of those esters! All that being said, Angel isn't....really.......uhhh.........that bad. There. I said it.
How strange individual chemistry is....

Addict. I keep hearing that this one bears more than a passing resemblance to Hypnotic Poison, which I LOVE. But it doesn't, not to my nose, or my husband's. He is not okay with this scent at all. This would be my first scrubber, but I'm wearing it through for educational purposes. It started out questionably musky and kind of medicinal. No orange blossom here! I started to get this back of the head head-ache, which graciously has subsided now. Two hours in, that notoriously heavy vanilla rears its head, with a little sandalwood in the background. Wait a sec, I usually like both of these scents! What's up with this? So I pondered it some, and have come to the conclusion that I like vanilla and sandalwood tempered, in an ensemble rather than the leading roles. They're too sharp, sweet, and in my nez when left to their own devices.
There are, as I'm learning, different kinds of sweet; gourmand and gourmand/oriental are pretty broad terms. Addict isn't sweet like Angel. Definitely not Pink Sugar sweet. I link Addict's sweetness closest to Lolita Lempicka, not because of the notes, but because of the kind of sweetness I perceive(no offense to LL, which is one of my very favorites and wears much better on me.)
Hypnotic Poison it is NOT.

I've now tried No. 22 in pure parfum and edt. The parfum was beautiful, more subtle incence, softer, and a little powdery on me. But the edt....It had me at the aldehydes. Then, 10 hours of incense. 10 hours!!! I was giddy, like I couldn't wait to get home and write about it. I tried to fight the emotion, tried to tell myself that I've only worn it once, that I need time to let the relationship develop, time to see if it is a passing fancy or if 22 really is right for me. But I've given in. I'm not going to fight it anymore. I...I've never felt this way about a fragrance before.... : )

Ah Chanel No. 5...I so much wanted to hate this, to just pan it, give it a great big thumbs down. Chanel is just so boring. I knew this fragrance wouldn't suit me from the get go, knew this innately before I ever even smelled it. Ergo, this is my first review of something I sampled that I knew just had no possibility of ever being in my wardrobe.
I brought a decant of EdP home last night, and as my husband and I smelled it straight from the vial, we were both reminded of every octogenarian's home we'd ever been in.
I applied it to my skin for the first time this morning.
I'll start by mentioning the aldehydes, which I actually kind of like. They're kind of cool and interesting, and I was disappointed when they left and their replacements gave me a headache for half an hour. Even so, this headache-inducing middle is pretty. There's this thing I couldn't put my finger on, kept sniffing my wrist trying to get it and irritated that it was eluding me, when it hit me-- soap. Just like everyone else got. Not bad soap, but soap, nonetheless. Why? Why does this legendary, classic, timeless work of art in a bottle smell like soap??!? Please.
It lasted two and a half hours at best on my skin, but I can't say I hated it. It was fine. Headache not withstanding, it is pleasant and pretty. Second application of the day conjures up that pink Johnson & Johnson baby lotion. Nice, clean, unobtrusive, uninteresting. And I have to ask-- if it wasn't Chanel, would anyone care?

I love this rebel child of the Chanel fragrance family!  Chance was the first fragrance my husband ever bought me and I have worn it for almost five years, but have not been inspired enough to write about it.  Until today.  I was at the Chanel counter waiting for the gal to make me a decant of No. 5 (which I'd never tried) and smelling the different scents-- No. 5, Allure, Coco in their various incarnations...then I picked up the tester of Chance.
WOW!!! If I didn't know any better, if the bottle didn't CLEARLY state otherwise, I'd have thought it misplaced. It was a rough, sharp staccato of a fragrance next to all that warm, classic, blended creaminess. And so I now have a brand new appreciation for this Chance I knew I liked for some reason. Chance has broken free the mold and managed to be edgy despite its parentage.
Oh, and now that I have had an encounter with the ever-so-timeless classic...I bet if you like Chance you aren't crazy about No. 5. Just a hunch.

This is my first attempt at actually analyzing a fragrance, so here goes. I think this one has what is called sillage; at least on me it does. I've always liked the way Ralph smells but have never tried it on myself, until this evening. It is somewhere in the mid 30s outside, and that being said, this will be a fun one to wear in the summer. It reminds me of flowy skirts and flowers tucked behind one ear. It is initially very strong on me. I can definitely smell the fruit in the top notes, which quickly dries into a boquet of heady, sweet flowers, dominated by magnolia and freesia, and I think I may have overapplied it. The freesia is dominant three hours into it. Now four hours later that's all I smell.
This is lovely! Bath and Body Works used to make two different fragrances, Freesia and Magnolia Blossom, both of which have been discontinued. This combines the best of those two and perfects it. Ralph to me is pretty, uncomplicated (a plus in one's first actual analysis), and sunny.
And I'm almost 30. Rules are made for breaking. : )

I thought Velvet Tuberose had potential at first sniff and took the hand cream home without testing it. I was looking for something to ease my disappointment over Magnolia Blossom being discontinued and this one appeared promising. But when I put it on I found I was sorely mistaken. Not that this is a bad scent--
I have a girlfriend who is very picky about fragrance and loves it. On me it smells like nostril-flaringly detergent-y fabric softener.
Well, I'm loth to ever throw a full bottle of anything out, so I wear this around the house and on lazy days off when I don't want to put on makeup. Over time we have gotten used to each other and VT doesn't claw at my olfactories if I don't pay it the mind. I give it a neutral because I respect my friend's opinion and I kind of like the more complex direction Bath & Body Works scents have been taking. However, I am finally almost out and am going to go searching for Magnolia Blossom on ebay.

Magnolia Blossom is my fragrance that I think smells higher end than it really is : )  Unfortunately it isn't in production anymore.  I went in to Bath & Body Works a few weeks ago, for the first time in over a year because I really wanted my Magnolia Blossom hand cream again, only to find that it is unavailable on their website, as well!  I have always liked sandalwood and amber, and honeysuckle too. I wonder if it is the magnolia in this that is so heady? Well then, I like that a lot, too. It is to me elegant, warm, and complex, easy to wear in the most casual of situations when I still want to smell pretty.

I can't believe the good reviews this has gotten!  They sound more sentimental than anything.  I first saw a tv commercial for Emeraude the beginning of my 8th grade year.  I thought it looked so elegant I couldn't imagine it smelling anything but lovely.  I was also excited about being able to put a full-size bottle alongside my Dune and Liz Claiborne minis.  With no tester to lead my nose, I purchased a bottle, confident of what was inside and so taken with the name and the gem-shaped bottle.  Well, the stuff was horrid, sort of a pine-y, acrid, synthetic hodgepodge reminiscent of cleaning fluid.  But I would have never admitted this to anyone.  This, I learned, is what I got for buying drugstore fragrance and it was the last time I ever did so.  I tried so hard to love it, to even just sort of like it, that I powered my way through half the bottle before admitting defeat.  I just couldn't pretend anymore.  

My husband bought me this to wear for our wedding. It is his favorite. I would have chosen something more classic and demure that I had no connection with and would have never worn again, like Vera Wang or Beautiful. I felt extravagant in it then and seldom feel dressed up enough for it now. It feels cold in winter and ostentatious in summer. It has a sort of Ice Queen quality and is a little self-possessed. It is neither elegant nor charming, but perhaps coolly exotic and somewhat unapproachable. When I wear it, I feel like the only girl in the room. My husband says it fits me. He must smell something different. : )

This was the first "grown-up" fragrance I ever wore.  I bought myself a mini when I was 12 and LOVED it.  Maybe it was sandalwood I perceived; maybe it was the amber; whatever I smelled in it was dramatic and complex, and to my adolescent nose, was unlike anything I had ever smelled before.  I was aware of its power, though, and stopped wearing it by high school, feeling I was too young to be wearing high-end fragrance.  I adopted the scented lotion.  Now I'm almost 30 and recently, purely by chance, came across a tester and remembered, excited to once again experience the fragrance that captivated me so as a girl. I sniffed the atomizer and could not bring myself to apply such a synthetic, incense-y, altogether nose-hair curling potion to my skin. Blech. What a difference 18 years make.

This is a beautiful fragrance, smells nice on my skin, and has staying power on me. I got a sample and used it all, but every opportunity I've had to buy it I have not. While it is beautiful, it isn't really intriguing and I have nothing to wear it with, unless I wore it ostentatiously with jeans. But I have Pure Poison for that. Besides, it smells a little uppity to me, and not much fun. Maybe I'll revisit it when I'm 40. Maybe.

My husband and I found this one while searching for my wedding fragrance. Pure Poison won, (more elegant) but this one haunted me for three years, until I opened a bottle this Christmas! It smells like nothing else out there, and I was not too surprised to find that its creator also did my other favorite, Hypnotic Poison. LL reminds me of a mid-summer night's dream-- sultry, heady, a little otherworldly. It will be my warmer weather counterpart to the wintry Hypnotic. I thoroughly enjoy wearing both.

I keep reading how similar it is to Angel. I've only smelled Angel on a test strip, not interested enough to put it on my skin, actually compelled not to. For their similarities, and there are some, Angel smells powdery and peppery, and lacks the warmth of LL.

My two faves-- Hypnotic Poison and Lolita Lempicka original-- smell like nothing else out there. I wore this briefly in my early 20s and have come back to it almost 10 years later. It adds je ne sais quoi to my work wardrobe as well as jeans. Comfortingly sexy, warm, distinctive. Definitely a cool weather scent. A spray on each wrist lasts a good 8 hours-- lucky me!

This smells pretty and romantic. I gave minis to my bridesmaids to wear for my wedding while I was ostentatious in Pure Poison.  (But that's sort of the point, right?)  One of my sisters loved it and bought the full size.  I had a mini left over so I wore it to work and was complimented on it.  It is uncomplicated and subtle, pretty, best worn when feeling demure.  I don't feel demure very often.