You can just picture it.
“Wow, you smell divine.
What is that?”
“It’s called ‘Death and decay”.
Simon Constantine’s floral provocation for the always intriguing Gorilla Perfumes is a glowing, creamy white hypnosis of soap and mothball lilies, not quite as indolic as I anticipated, given the scent’s premise of purposefully stretching the funeral palls’s cusp of rot and fullness to breaking point (though in truth I didn’t quite dare to spray it on the skin to find out); effulgent, floating, and luminous.
Death And Decay smells like a woman in Pure Distance’s Opardu crying tears at a funeral parlour; a spray of convalescent lilies, an air-conditioned ambience, and a set of freshly scrubbed undertaker’s hands. Beguiling if a touch creepy, this is a blend that draws me in ( to a certain extent ), with its cool, pungent allure, if ultimately, in truth I prefer warmer, more spiced…
View original post 129 more words
I do not understand this perfume.
Please enlighten me.
A strange thing has happened to me. I have gone off vanilla. And although I think I can trace the moment this happened (and some of you were there with me), it still kind of shocks me, having spent the most beautiful holiday of my life two summer ago on a vanilla plantation in Java, swooning with vanilla suffocation in the upstairs drying room as the beans gave off their woozy, heady smell, gazing at awe at the vines; and more than half a lifetime of being swathed in vanilla-based, sweet and orientalic perfumes. (me sneaking out at dawn with a shaky iPhone, to take a short video of the exquisite environs of our little cabin (Duncan is curled up asleep inside) : Durian fruit, coffee trees, and papaya – which you can’t see – but most of all snaking vanilla vines climbing up trees; workers in fields, and me…
View original post 1,417 more words
Izia, a recent release, is a nice, fullish, lemonish rose for cool-headed, discerning adults by the pleasingly unprolific house of Sisley. Solidly made and well turned out, I have to say that it nevertheless does not really inspire me ( I have perhaps been spoiled by my recent discovery of Sonoma Scent Studio’s far more sublime fragrance Velvet Rose), merely reminding me essentially of another Sisley rose perfume – Soir De Lune, just without all the shadowy ( and sexier ) aspects of oakmoss and patchouli.
Perhaps Sisley were just playing it safe. Their previous release, the curious Eau D’Ikar, was more daring. A new departure. Odd. Disturbing.
Risk-taking, in perfumery however, as we all know now, does not necessarily bring in the Euros.
Last of the hospital travel series, but in reality, no travel adventure or holiday has ever come close to our time spent in Indonesia.
It was like magic.
It has been over five weeks since I wrote anything new on the Black Narcissus, and three since we returned from Java.
This is not intentional. Rather than lassitude, a paucity of ideas, or some kind of general slump leading me to take a break from my usual flow of writing, it’s more a case of the reverse: so flushed, inundated with sensory overload, olfactory and otherwise, that despite the rush of ideas that I was having for this blog the whole time I was in Indonesia, with words rising up in me constantly, they were always instantaneously crushed, almost pleasingly so, by the sheer living vividness of the experience, my brain and senses wanting to just be and imbibe, smell and listen, rather than translate or transcribe each moment in…
View original post 1,263 more words
because the view from my window is boring
What perfumes to bring on a holiday in Vietnam?
It is hot.
The first two days we were here were possibly cooler than Tokyo, which can get truly unbearable at the height of August with its shimmering heat islands, glass, and gleaming, roiling synthetic surfaces, but these last two hot and steaming days in Hanoi it has got to that searing, ant-under-a-magnifying-glass hotness that prevents you from walking too long in it directly, yearning for some airconditioning (something I hate intensely usually, when it is misused and overused), but which here seems really like a necessity, especially for short, grateful spells in museums and the entrance of the hotel.
D has been dousing his handkerchiefs, and mopping his brow with Agua De Colonia Concentrada by Alverez Gomez, a Spanish cologne (to which I have craftily, typically, added 30ml of extra lemon essential oil to get it how I want it…
View original post 2,055 more words