TAR
A perfume of self-hatred.
For those in any way S+M inclined, or have a gimp, leather, or torture fetish, and have spent a lifetime searching for a corresponding scent, look no further.
This perfume is tar, this is rubber; your face pounded into asphalt and the apparatus waiting; for a night of complex, breathless and painful autoasphyxiation.
I myself wouldn’t touch this in any circumstances, but as a concept, from bottle to scent, and as a just about wearable anti-perfume, it is the best of its type.
Just spray it on the PVC and wait.
Notes: town gas, vapours of bitumen, opoponax, grilled cigarettes, pyrogenics.
GARAGE
But you took it too far. Those exhaust fumes, the car oil, the vehicle grease for lube…
And then the rafters. Even you knew there were limits. And so your quest for a very particular kind of gratification ended in tears. Especially for your bewildered relatives, who found you hanging, smeared in diesel; naked, and pitiful.
Notes: vetiver acetate, plastic florals, car seat leather, kerosene.
DRY CLEAN
And so they went to work. Through your drawers, your pockets, your bedroom, as they carved up your loot. And from your daytime clothes, your presentable office work wear, were salvaged some more respectable garments. Which went to the dry cleaners and were treated duly with death-smelling chemicals to de-accentuate the memory of the same.
But you weren’t there for any of this, so it really doesn’t matter.
Probably the foulest perfume I have ever smelled: one that could literally make me vomit.
A product that dries out the oesophagus: shudders your innards.
Notes: ozone, nail polish, bay leaf, metallic incense, dissolvent vapours.
(not one for brides)
The Black Narcissus 
uuuurrghhhh! Shudder! For some reason this review has made me think of licking an iron drainpipe, misted with the cold sweat of riotous dancers in a packed and boozy cellar bar…why this has come to mind I don’t know. I have an uneasy feeling it may actually be a memory of a drunken night…I am seeing white t-shirts in pec-heavy bodies and a general reddy glow and a synthetic smell of rank gagging boy aftershave…yes, I think this may actually be a drunken memory and I may have actually licked the iron pipe…ugh!
I can’t believe I failed to reply to this the first time. Unbelievably vivid N
Why? There is no why to such nights, there just ‘is’…
Reblogged this on The Black Narcissus.
Oh dear. Ick. 😉
Hideous. Je suis d’accord.
where do I sign up? 😉
Nice reply! But I don’t know, actually, unless you are already on WordPress. Can anyone else advise?
Thanks for stopping by.
These are not perfumes to be worn. These are odors to be endured when encountered in the usual places such as an asphalt plant, gas station, dive bar, or nail parlor.
I think so too, totally, though I am for the anti- establishment aroma- terrorist principle at least in theory.,However, in practice……nah.
Yes, I like that perfumers and perfume wearers are free to blend and apply whatever they desire. That is part of the art of perfumery. I am just old- fashioned about what constitutes a pleasurable aroma. And, I’ll admit that I’m curious about some of the fragrances that qualify as anti-perfume such as Secretions Magnifique. When I first discovered that it existed I was astonished. A person actually wants to smell like blood, semen, and breast milk? I am a nurse and have smelled some extremely FOUL odors so the punk aspect of the anti-perfume doesn’t attract me. I just can’t take it too seriously. It’s as though the perfumers (and the wearers) are playing at “real life,” or something.
Interesting. But if you do actually smell Secretions, there is nothing organic or human-like about it in reality; it smells extremely chemical actually, so although it HINTS at what it says it will smell of (and I personally find it repugnant), it will not take you back to the olfactory horrors of the hospital.
No doubt we will eventually be able to buy perfumes for our dogs that smell like dead squirrels and other choice rolling material. I have often mocked TF’s Black Orchid for smelling like compost, but hey, at least that’s a healthy natural smell compared to vapors of bitumen. I am quite interested to find out that a perfumer has bottled the worst of the petrochemical industry and expects to make a profit from it. There seems to be a subset of the population that instantaneously translates “bizarre” to “chic and highly desirable.” Fortunately, we have the highly articulate Ginza to help us have fun with the Emperor’s new perfumes.
Thanks: this post has been immensely unpopular, but I stick by it. I am not afraid of the dark side, and will cover the whole emotional spectrum. These perfumes are FOUL: I still feel compelled to write about them.
The number of followers even went down! I do, however, have an extremely strong middle finger in my brain ( some might call it self- sabotage, others just childish ‘rebelliousness’ – there’s a reason I worship Madonna Ciccone you know) so who knows what I shall be writing next. It was never my intention to be like Laura Ashley.
no Neil something is wrong as I was automatically “unfollowed” from this blog and am not sure why??????? and I would not want you to be Laura Ashley…I love you just the way you are….
Billy, arigato
I will await with interest. I appreciate that you feel able to write about the loathesome as well as the attractive and the merely meh. After all, the icky scents are being sold in commercial bottles at hefty prices, and there is no reason why they should be immune to review.
Thank you. I can’t resist a good, full on slagging off sometimes.
Thank you. I can’t resist a good, full on slagging off sometimes.
Thank you. I can’t resist a good, full on slagging off sometimes.
Thank you. I can’t resist a good, full on slagging off sometimes.
Those. Sound. Awful. You didn’t actually smell them, did you?
Oh yes, oh lordy on the skin and everything. Hence the monstrousness of the reviews!
Jesus. You are a brave man, Neil. I could not have done that.
I mean, ‘grilled cigarettes’? It has comic value, but ugh to smell of that….
I am surprised to not see burnt/burning hair on the list of notes too . . .
( laughing in the teacher’s room, where I should NOT be using my iPhone!¥
Hee hee!
I just started laughing in the middle of teaching because of you. Burning hair.
BAD BACON BISCUIT
and I am laughing hysterically right now in my office having read this entire conversation between two of my favorite people…Neil and Daisy…you are both hilarious and thank you for allowing me to start my horrible work week on such a comical note!!!
No seriously, that ‘burning hair’ thing set something off it me…….
You know that whole burning hair thing just brought something to the forefront of my memory…I was in an opera at the Met (the name of the opera completely escapes me right now) and all of us little choristers were standing in two lines holding real candles and singing…in the middle of our piece another youngster behind me was tapping furiously on my back and I just ignored this (the consummate professional that I was)….when we headed backstage I was informed that her candle accidentally lit my hair on fire and she was frantically trying to put it out and luckily succeeded! How did I not smell this?
Wow, that’s artistic dedication. I’m glad she succeeded. When I grew up in Louisiana, we would lose power for days after hurricanes. It was awful for the adults, but I’m afraid that for we children it was quite a lark. At least it was until I fell asleep while reading by candlelight and singed my hair. The really bad part is that after that I was no longer allowed to read by candlelight. Then it wasn’t a lark anymore, just a bore. That is not a memory that I want to relive, and so I will not test any frags that have “burning hair” as a note.
Bring on the tales of burning hair, I say.
I had a party on the night we got our final results at Cambridge, and one of my friends, a fine bush of curls, was dancing right by a candle…..
yes, the smoke was rising from her barnet, but I witnessed the singed locks just in time and thrust her head under the shower (with a conditioner we called ‘Vanessa’ for some reason), and a tragedy was averted.
Another true story from my absurd life is when we had a disco called Voodoo, during which there was an earthquake, and the candles at one point started to set fire to the decorations…a true disco inferno. Which, undoubtedly, Comme Des Garcons would see fit to release as an ‘avant garden’ perfume called Human Barbecue or whatever. Top notes of incinerated sequin and eyelash, basenotes of charred booty.
Ginza, my guess is that Comme Des Garcons will make the perfume and Demeter will make the cologne, for when you want just the lightest hint of tragically charred bodies. Do you know that Demeter makes a cologne that smells like boiled lobster? True story.I haven’t smelled it but I’ve seen it on their website.
Only a maniac would!
I must I enjoyed re-reading this blog again and am still laughing about the burning hair (although it truly is no laughing matter). Thanks for the laughs!
god we need them at the moment.