Category Archives: Voyeur

the gimmies

 

 

 

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Aaagggh! My friend Joan just, or a few hours ago, out of the blue, or I only just noticed it because I was too absorbed in Downton Abbey, sends me a message, and a picture attached, saying

 

 

 

‘fancy any of these?’

 

 

 

GrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrI need to be there, where it is (it looks like Shinagawa flea market, which recently has yielded absolutely nothing), NOW, barter a little bit; hoover it all up. All the Shalimars, maybe even the Jade Jagger redesigned bottle, if it is cheap enough, even if I don’t quite like the juice as much.  I need those refills though so I can just spray wantonly. Carelessly. And I have just spotted a Must Parfum ( isn’t it? or you tell me, is it the edt? ) which I don’t have a full bottle of and WANT. Real treasure. Gorgeous. Those original Chanel No 19 EDPs in the silver square bottles, also, particularly, which I remember with great fondness from my university days and have never  personally used (I always remember it being sharper, crisper, more irisey and green. AAAAAAAAGGGH I WANT THEM.)

 

 

 

And isn’t that Guerlain’s Winter Delice at the back, on the left? I need it! Only the other day, while vacuuming, D unearthed my miniature of this delicious and strange sweet frankincense delight, which is down at most, now, to two Christmas Day helpings (when I really like to wear it). The full bottle I once had, and cherished, he once used in some performance piece or other (almost choking the audience to death) and it somehow got lost. God knows how. I was really disappointed. It is one of those singular, unrepeatable fragrances that have ‘acquired taste’ written all over them, and how fantastic it would be to have a brand new bottle again. A weird coincidence. And people, what is the Allegoria at the front with the pink ribbon? Don’t I need it? Can you identify it? I have a great fondness for the Allegorias. I have a dream of one day coming across a bottle of the gorgeous Lys Soleia. Could it possibly be that?

 

 

 

Looking more intently, to the back, it’s true that I already have a bottle of Boudoir, which I love to wear on occasion –   it totally suits me, oddly enough –  but bizarrely, I gave my bottle of Vivienne Westwood Sin Garden, the flanker, to Duncan to give to a Dominatrix Mistress of Tokyo only yesterday, for her ‘Haunted Carnival’ rope tying party last night (I wasn’t up to going, but she had recently sent me get well flowers and I wanted to return the favour, and who doesn’t like being given an unexpected bottle of perfume? ) He promised he would try to get me another bottle if he ever came across one again – and here one is ( or is it, in fact, another Westwood perfume that I rather like:  : : :  Libertine?)

 

 

 

What else do we espy among the plastic wrapped semi-detritus selection of fine ‘vintage’ perfume splayed out on a blanket at the flea market? Eau Sauvage Extreme; love it, but my one bottle is quite enough ( I wear it on occasion and remember my delicate youth) ; Dolce Vita – want; Poison – want (that is Burning Bush’s true signature scent now) ; Tresor – want; and that isn’t that Gucci Eau De Parfum, is it, the thing at the front, that orange blossom heliotrope delight that is so cuddly and comforting ? WANT. Hypnotic Poison? Want. . And I am not right in thinking that we can see a vintage, probably parfum, of that increasingly endangered species, the incredible spice animal that is Yves Saint Laurent’s original, unreformulated, Opium?  WANT.

 

 

 

 

 

In short.

 

 

 

 

Is there anything I fancy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pretty much the whole damn lot.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Bric-a-brac, Catastrophe, neurotic meltdowns, pigs, Psychodrama, Slinky, Uncategorized, Voyeur

L E T IT N O T H APPE N

 

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Filed under Bitch, Fruity Floral, groping motherfuckers, Prune, religious hatred and death, Republican, Urine, Voyeur

POUDRE DE RIZ by HUITIEME ART (2012)

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I love a perfume with a good story line, and the powdery, illicit backdrop of Poudre De Riz is a good one. It is a tawdry tale with a double dose of sensorial voyeurism, inspired by the French novel Inferno (1908) by Henri Barbusse: a man spying on a frantic adulterous couple in the boarding room next door through a crack in the wall; witnessing, and smelling their aromas; her bath, the splashes of heavy, sweet perfumes to cover up the scent of heat-coupled flesh; and, then, her last-minute attempts to make up her face with lipstick and powders, a disgruntled varnish to mask her true feelings before the arrival of her husband….

But he does of course notice:

“The air in the room was filled with heavy scents….soap, face powder, and the pungent smell of an eau de cologne…..” and the perfume, proficiently blended by Pierre Guillaume, is thus an attempt to capture this coagulation of emotion: of sex, concealment, passion (guilt?) and of the perfected and more preened face that we must present to the world..

Though I sometimes bore myself to tears with my own predictability (tiare monoï oil; coconut; vanilla, benzoin…..surely I am bound to like this perfume?) I really do: it is quite gorgeous and I just can’t help myself, the ‘rice powder’ of the name a pearlescent dust of sheen wavering over a sensual, but controlled and delicate, effluvium of aphrodisia that has none of the stinginess or bitter, ‘avant-garde’ snarl of some niche scents.

Poudre De Riz in fact immediately reminded me of a number of sweet, oriental perfumes that I have worn over the years, while remaining individual enough to merit a full bottle. The beautiful note of Damascena roses shining through slews of animalic, almonded musks comes straight from Louve; the soft, linty, vellutinous white powder Teint De Neige; and the ambered, cinnamony goodness a throw-back to my beloved Obsession For Men before it got spayed by reformulation; (the tolu over cedar and sandalwood note in the base also strangely took me back to that ribald old tropico-classic, Nuits Indiennes by Louis Scherrer…)

Still, the perfume works on its own terms, and all the notes are blended in such a way that despite the story and gourmand overdose, the perfume is never claustrophobic: my own skin always brings out the heavier, vanillic angle of a scent, but I can imagine on certain women that this could smell almost angelic….

 

 

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Filed under Orientals, Perfume Reviews, Powder, Rice, Rose, Voyeur