A Favorite: Trudon Bruma

created with Ideogram AI and Adobe Photoshop
What I really wanted to do was fairly complex, involving a suede purse tipped on its side on the grass, with a lipstick and a tin of pastilles spilled out of it. Behind it would be irises, violets, jasmine, peonies.
Unfortunately, Ideogram wouldn't give me the purse I wanted, or it made some bizarre mutant purse with straps coming out of odd places, with far more things spilling out than I asked for. So I gave up and generated something far more simple. I still had to Photoshop the heck out of it. 

Trudon Bruma

Galbanum, Black Pepper, Lavender, Iris Flower, Violet, Peony, Jasmine, Vetiver, Labdanum, Tonka

During a visit to the Trudon boutique in SoHo, I scored a travel spray of Bruma. It was given as a thank you for attending the Spring Sniffapalooza event in 2024--a very generous gift. I had sniffed it before, during an online master class with Trudon and BeautyHabit, but it didn't stick in my mind. Rather, I was too taken with the sublimely smoky Revolution to pay attention to the other scents in the collection. (This goes to show that perfumes may need to be tried multiple times before they hit the right spot.) At the boutique, I was given a choice of two or three fragrances; I chose Bruma because it was presented as an iris scent, which is right up my alley. But to me, Bruma does not smell particularly of iris. I mean, yes, there's iris, but it isn't what I'd call a primarily iris fragrance. It smells of too many other things. It's green. It's floral. It's powdery. It's peppery. It's aromatic. It has an old-fashioned vibe. It's quite perfume-y. It's warm, but also cool. It's cozy. It's musky. It's one of those fragrances that can fit any occasion, be worn in any temperature, and has become something I reach for when I really don't know what I feel like wearing. Bruma is subtle, sophisticated, balanced, velvety and a bit mysterious. It is always perfect. I honestly adore it. 

It starts out soft and girly, and a bit old-fashioned, with definite iris and violet but also the dry warmth of pepper and a whisper of leather. It's like rummaging through a suede purse and pulling out a lipstick. It's also green and floral in turn, as if that purse was outdoors, in a garden. For a moment, there's also something vaguely candied about it, though it's not sweet. As if that lipstick has become pastilles instead, but are still living in that purse. 

Sometimes, when I wear this, I get a whiff of something clean wafting up from my shirt. It's basically the same floral/lightly green scent, but in a different form. A shift from powdery to soapy. Actually, Bruma isn't really powdery, but rather coated in a gauzy floral veil that's airy rather than heady.

If you're into unusual floral scents that seem to veer a bit old-fashioned (yet don't smell vintage), give Bruma a try. 

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Jacques Fath Le Loden

created with Ideogram AI and Adobe Photoshop.
I always wanted to star in fragrance ad.

Jacques Fath Fath's Essentials Le Loden

Haitian Vetiver, Ginger, Pink Pepper, Green Mandarin, Bourbon Vetiver, Juniper Berries, Bourbon Geranium, Raspberry Leaf, Java vetiver oil, Tobacco, Patchouli, Ylang-Ylang

I used to think that I disliked vetiver, but I may have been mistaken. There are some fragrances that I cannot abide that have a vetiver note listed, so I have assumed that's what makes the scent unwearable to me. Yet, I am finding more and more vetiver scents that make me happy. I definitely can now recognize the somewhat watery-but-also-smoky grassiness of proper vetiver. I enjoy Tom Ford's Grey Vetiver, and I simply adore Bamford Gray (though that seems more spicy than vetiver-y). A new favorite, Fath Le Loden, was a love-at-first-sniff sorta thing; it includes three different vetivers.

What? There's actually a vetiver scent I love? Sometimes I don't recognize myself. 

I first encountered Le Loden via a sample included in a goodie bag from my friend Angie. She and I have very different tastes in fragrance and I was not having much luck finding something I liked among her generous selection. When I got to Le Loden, my first thought was, "Jacques Fath is making new perfumes?" I of course was familiar with Iris Gris (1946) and Fath de Fath (1953), but had no idea that the house had been creating newer scents since the 1990s, including the Fath's Essentials series. My second thought was, "wow!"

Some have compared Le Loden to Lalique Encre Noire; while they both have prominent vetiver notes, that's where the similarity ends. It's like comparing Hermes Hiris to Houbigant Iris de Champs. Yes, they are both primarily iris scents, but are otherwise quite different. Overall, Encre Noire is a cold and wet scent, as befitting the name "black ink." I owned it at one point, but found it to be too chilly and dark. It's too "moody vampire" for me (but if you like vetiver, def check it out). Le Loden is also a scent that lives up to its name. While it contains potentially excessive amounts of vetiver, it's a bit wooly, almost snuggly. The leatheriness of the Javanese vetiver and the sweet almost licorice-like quality of the Bourbon vetiver give the fragrance body and warmth. The patchouli is pretty prominent as well, adding a pleasing earthy quality.

For whatever reason, sniffing Le Loden conjures up a feeling of nostalgia, but for memories that aren't actually mine. It makes me think of being outside on a rainy winter day, perhaps walking through the countryside, while wearing a cozy coat. Indeed, the name itself refers to the sturdy, waterproof, 100% wool outerwear that originated in the Tyrol region of Austria. Loden also refers to the traditional olive green of said coats, though modern iterations come in many styles and colors. 

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Calvin Klein Obsession

created with Ideogram AI and Adobe Photoshop
No, this is not an actual image of me from the late 80s, though I did own
rainbow suspenders and pleated tartan trousers.

Calvin Klein Obsession

Fragrantica: Basil, Bergamot, Mandarin Orange, Green Notes, Peach, Lemon, Spices, Sandalwood, Coriander, Oakmoss, Cedar, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Rose, Amber, Incense, Vanilla, Civet, Musk, Vetiver

Basenotes: Lemon, Mandarin, Bergamot, Peach, Jasmine, Rose, Orange Blossom, Rosewood, Coriander, Marigold, Armoise (mugwort), Ylang Ylang, Cedar, Sandalwood, Amber, Oakmoss, Vanilla, Musk, Civet

Obsession was something I wore regularly in the late 80s, along with the even spicier Karl Lagerfeld fragrance, KL. (Floral fragrances were grody and gagged me with a spoon, but ambers were like totally bitchin'.) These perfumes scented my days of lugging a heavy brown pleather portfolio from Art History to Life Drawing and Children's Book Illustration to Computer Graphics (where we learned how to draw shapes on a tiny black and white Mac Classic--this was the Stone Age of personal computers) at the Maryland Institute College of Art. I never wore Big Hair, but I did wear Big Perfume and even bigger earrings. 

While writing my post about Must de Cartier, I came upon more than a few comments and reviews that compared Must to Obsession. I didn't remember it being that similar, but it had been a while since I owned a fresh bottle of Calvin Klein's now classic fragrance. Fragrancenet.com had it on clearance, which allowed me to score 50ml for $23.

I was immediately disappointed with my new purchase. The original opaque poop-brown cap with the gold border had been replaced with a cheaper translucent cap in a darker shade. Did the juice change, too? I spritzed a tester strip and immediately got a flash of the past, though it wasn't as strong and nostalgic as I thought it would be. Damn if the opening doesn't smell a lot like Must de Cartier, with a strong galbanum-like dark green sensation, though it doesn't last as long as Must's. Obsession also has a fairly prominent animalic quality that comes out early and persists for a bit. This is possibly the civet, but could also be indolic jasmine. Cinnamon and a pinch of clove swirl around, with some fruitiness, oakmoss, and of course a lot of ambery-style notes. The drydown is fairly musky and includes quite a bit of vanilla, but not as much as I remember.

I'm not sure why they bothered creating an Obsession for Men, because there's nothing particularly feminine about the original. There's definitely a similarity between the two, though the masculine has even more cinnamon and vanilla and seems softer. It's been my husband's signature cold-weather scent for over 25 years now, and he always smells glorious. Frankly, I think I prefer the men's version to the original, at least in its current formulation. (I'm not saying it's been reformulated, but considering how old this scent is, I think it's likely). 

IMHO, Obsession doesn't smell at all dated. It's a spicy amber fragrance that is just as good as--or better--than many of the newer perfumes in the same style. It's not particularly sweet, nor is it overpoweringly strong unless one oversprays. It's much less-expensive than most new perfumes, only $100 for 100ml if purchased directly from Calvin Klein, and even less than that at discounters. Fans of amber-style scents should definitely look into trying this 1980's classic.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

1907 Vanilla Dry

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1907 Vanilla Dry

Ylang-Ylang, Orange, Mandarin Orange, Tiare Flower, Jasmine, Lily-of-the-Valley, Vanilla, Coconut, Sandalwood, White Musk

In April of 2024, I requested a "perfume prescription" from Suzy and Nicola of the On the Scent podcast and posted the results here. If you don't want to go back and read, here's a synopsis: I had tried Matiere Premier Vanilla Powder multiple times and was repelled by a stabby mystery note. Hubby seemed to enjoy it though, so I requested a dry woody scent with a background of amber or vanilla that could be similar. Three vanilla-based scents were recommended: TF Tobacco Vanille; Maya Njie Vanilj; and 1907 Vanilla Dry.

I was able to sniff the first two pretty easily, but I couldn't source a reasonably priced sample of the third scent in the US. And then I met Angie, of @angiesmellstheroses on Tiktok and IG. She happened to have a bottle of Vanilla Dry and sent me a small decant. Rather than a being the requested woodsy vanilla, Vanilla Dry is quite floral. Additionally, there was something oddly mentholated about it that displeased me, so the sample was banished to a bag of similarly rejected vials that were to be shared with others. One day not long ago, I was sorting my bag of disliked samples to pack some up for a friend. I decided to try Vanilla Dry again, as it had been 6 months since the first attempt. Surprise! The second time, I liked it. And the third time, a few days later, I loved it. The fourth time, the sample was all gone and I had to buy a bottle. I found it at Jovoy, a Parisian perfume purveyor with great prices (though not a discounter), and added it to my cart with a bunch of samples from unfamiliar brands, a backup bottle of Essential Parfums Orange x Santal for hubby, and a bottle of Trudon Bruma for me. (One needs to purchase €400 to get free shipping. €45 is a little steep for postage, the equivalent of 10 samples or a partial bottle, heck, a decent dinner with a glass of wine, even a latte at the Towson Town Center Starbucks. I was going to buy the other two scents eventually, so why not now?) 

I'm not sure why I had such an about-face with this scent. The first time I smelled it was in the fall, and the second time in the spring, so the temperatures weren't all that different. I will admit that I find vanilla-heavy scents a bit disgusting in the heat, but that wasn't the case here. While jasmine isn't a favorite note, I actually do like ylang-ylang and lily-of-the-valley and generally have no issue with tiare. In fact, I've recently been looking for a tropical coconut scent in the same family as Azuree Soleil/Bronze Goddess but lighter, perhaps with some green notes (Heeley Palm, formerly Cocobello, is a contender). Oddly, despite the tiare and coconut, Vanilla Dry doesn't come off as a tropical scent at all. Apart from the gentle yellow floralcy in the early stages of the fragrance, it's a vanilla scent from start to finish. For me, the coconut is more of a texture than an actual smell. Imagine a jar of coconut grated so finely that it's nearly a dry dust, and nestled within are a couple of vanilla beans. The vanilla perfumes the coconut, and the coconut keeps the sweetness of the vanilla within acceptable levels (for me). I really don't get the orange notes at the opening, and find the sandalwood and musk to be pretty subtle, but I'm really fine with what's left. Now, I don't know if Vanilla Dry is indeed dry enough to wear in the summer, but it's worked nicely so far this spring in temperatures up to the mid-70s.

One thing I don't like about 1907 Vanilla Dry isn't about the fragrance at all--it's the cap. It's a heavy metal sphere that is a bit awkward to remove. The first time I pulled it off the bottle, I wasn't prepared for the weight. It bounced out of my hand and across the room, narrowly missing the window (which it would have cracked, I'm sure), and clattered noisily across the bathroom tile. Now, I'm all for a sturdy bottle situation, but I'd rather have a hollow plastic cap than one that could be used as a weapon. Other than that, it's good stuff, and I am so glad I gave it a second chance.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

A Favorite: Must de Cartier

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Cartier Must de Cartier

Galbanum, Brazilian Rosewood, Aldehydes, Bergamot, Lemon, Green Mandarin, Peach, Pineapple, Leather, Carnation, Vetiver, Orris Root, Musk, Ylang-Ylang, Yellow Narcissus, Neroli, Rose, Jasmine, Orchid, Amber, Vanilla, Sandalwood, Tonka Bean, Civet, Vetiver

Must, released in 1981, was Cartier's first fragrance. Scents from that decade tend to be stereotyped as brash, suitable as a finishing touch for women who favor big shoulder pads, big earrings, even bigger hair, and lots of blusher. That may have been true of Giorgio and Poison. Must, however, seems much more from the era of classical fragrance that preceded it, containing a complex cocktail of numerous notes that are so well-blended that few stand out, apart from the unusual combination of top notes. 

I'm pretty sure I first encountered Must in the early 90s, which would have been after it was reformulated. I received my bottle as a gift in the early 2000s, and its scent seems to have always been this way to me. In those days--before I understood fragrance notes and the way they were supposed to smell--rather than perceiving greenness in Must's galbanum top note, I felt it smelled...brown. The peculiar combination of earthy galbanum with some citrus and fizzy aldehydes, backed up with pineapple and lots of flowers somehow evoked chocolate. It's like a whiff of an open can of cocoa powder, a bit bitter and somewhat dusty, but recognizably chocolate. Though I now know that galbanum is considered a green note, Must is still far more brown in character, especially as the tapestry of floral notes is rather dusty and mingled with hints of leather, powder, and civet in the base.

I have read comparisons to other scents of the time, particularly Calvin Klein's Obsession. While they share similar bones (citrus, sandalwood, musky drydown), they are entirely different fragrances. I wore Obsession in the 80s, in college, and it seems far more fun and youthful with its vanilla and spice overtones, while Must is far more grown-up. Though this is said from a distance; I haven't owned both fragrances at the same time. (That's about to change--thanks, Fragrancenet!) In any case, Must de Cartier is a beautiful classic fragrance that deserves to be discovered and worn today and beyond.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Remembering Mom

created with Ideogram AI and Adobe Photoshop

I lost my Mom on February 12, 2001, when I was 35 years old. She had suffered with Rheumatoid Arthritis and Lupus for many years, but her death was still a huge shock. I had gotten married only 4 months prior and was barely settled in my new life and my new home when my world was shattered. Though my Dad--with whom I had always gotten along and loved very much--was still alive, with the death of my mother, I considered myself an orphan.

Mom was my best friend when I was a kid, but after I became an adult, we didn't always get along. I was out and about, living my life, seldom considering that she must have been in constant pain. It didn't help that she expected us to be mind-readers rather than communicating her needs, but I should have been more sensitive. Still, I had led a rather sheltered life, preferring books and music to activities with friends, when suddenly, in my late 20s, I had become Miss Popularity. Rather than spending time with Mom, re-re-watching our favorite movies--Evil Under the Sun and The 12 Chairs among them--I was going to multiple parties every weekend, hanging out with newfound friends (some of whom turned out not to be friends at all). What's the big deal? you're probably wondering. Everybody goes through this. That might be true. It's more than fine for able-bodied parents who have supportive spouses and friends to lose their children to their own adulthood. But Mom really only had my brother and me. And I could have done better.

Mom liked perfume, but she wasn't into it nearly as much as I was. She didn't wear it every day, except in the summer when she'd have a splash from the giant bottle of Jean Nate that she kept on the top of the toilet tank. If she went out anywhere nice--which was very rare--she'd apply some Wind Song. She kept its charming crown-shaped bottle among the various toiletries and bath products in a drawer at the bottom of the linen closet. Once in a while I'd dig through the treasures and pull out the small round orbs filled with multicolored bath oils, occasionally squashing one through my fingers and making a greasy mess. I also liked playing with the little rose-shaped guest soaps, though I thought they stank. Actually, I thought all of it stank, especially the strong-smelling stuff in the curvy pale blue bottle: Youth Dew, which I called "Youth Pee-yew" or "Youth DooDoo." But as the cliché goes, "the apple doesn't far from the tree." Little did I know that similar spicy amber scents like Obsession and KL would become my signatures in my 20s. I particularly loved Germaine Monteil Bakir, which I discovered in a catalog offering discount beauty products. Mom and I would pore through those mailings and order a bunch of various necessities, like lipsticks that changed color depending on one's pH, bars of Magno black soap, and vintage perfumes like Jean Couturier Coriandre and the aforementioned Bakir. 

Later in life, Mom gave up on her old fragrances and started to wear different things. Back in the early 1990s, when grown-ups wore Victoria's Secret lingerie, they released their first fragrance--Victoria. That was my mother's name, so it called to her. It came in a classy and expensive-looking fluted bottle with a blue faux gemstone on the cap and smelled gently of raspberry and rose and other things that I no longer recall. After the success of Victoria, Mom tried their next scent, Rapture, a floral amber that was a bit sweet. I hated it, referring to it as "Rupture." Mom didn't like it as well as Victoria, but she wore it anyway. Around that time, she also discovered Guerlain Jardins de Bagatelle, a heady white floral from the 80s. I have never been a fan of gardenia, tuberose, or jasmine, but somehow I liked this one, especially on my mother. She called it "Bagels," because she thought calling it by the French name was pretentious. One of my cousins gave her a fresh bottle of JdB every Christmas, though she didn't wear the scent frequently enough to use a bottle a year. After Mom died, I found three unopened bottles in her closet, and I regret now that I sold all of them on eBay. For a time, Mom also wore Gap Heaven, a light white floral musk. I wore it too, and we both thought the juice in her bottle smelled better on me, though both bottles were of the same vintage. I still have them, but I would rather have Mom.

I got my hands on new bottles of Jean Nate and Wind Song and have reviewed them below. A couple years back I bought a used bottle of Victoria on eBay, knowing that there was a very good chance that the scent had turned. It had, and not just the top notes. The only thing salvageable is the pretty fluted bottle. From what I remember, this fragrance smelled lightly of raspberry and more strongly of rose, but that could be a false memory. As for Jardins de Bagatelle, I only remember it being a bold white floral, elegant and complex, and like nothing else. It's a little spendy for a blind buy (for me...I try to stick to $50 and under if I'm throwing my money away), but I might try to get a sample or decant in the future and write about it.

Revlon Jean Nate After Bath Splash

Lemon, Bergamot, Lavender, Geranium, Spicy Notes, Rose, Lily-of-the-Valley, Jasmine, Musk, Sandalwood, Virginia Cedar, Tonka Bean

This doesn't smell anything like I remember. Back in the 70s, to my nose, it was an in-your-face kinda citrus fragrance with some lavender. It's much more subdued these days, still citrussy, and far more soapy than I recall, even a tad spicy. Something about it smells stale and dusty, but only briefly, like a ghost of fragrances past. And then, surprisingly, the dry-down is musky and a little sandalwood-y and quite pleasant. If this stuff were only the drydown, I might love it. I wish I had been able to try the cologne as well as the much lighter and more fleeting "after bath splash" concentration--what Mom always wore--to see if there's a difference, but I'm not curious enough to hunt down a bottle.

Prince Matchabelli Wind Song

Coriander, Tarragon, Neroli, Orange Leaf, Bergamot, Mandarin Orange, Lemon, Carnation, Cloves, Ylang-Ylang, Rose, Brazilian Rosewood, Orris Root, Jasmine, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Cedar, Musk, Benzoin, Amber

I really had no recollection of the smell of Wind Song, only the memory of disliking it. Going by the notes, I should love this stuff: a spicy citrus-forward floral with a musky amber drydown. The opening is quite mid-century vintage-y, cold-cream-like, with lots of smooth, not sharp, citrus notes mingled with muted florals. It's far more pleasant than I remember, but I'm sure what I disliked about it so much was the soapiness. I enjoy a rooty iris note these days, and there are glimpses of  that in Wind Song, along with a good amount of spicy, clove-like carnation. The drydown is gently woodsy, with persistent carnation and orris. While I can't say my mother smelled exactly like this scent during my childhood, Wind Song is definitely the smell of a mother from my parents' generation. And if one is into vintage-style scents, this one is still well done and totally wearable.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

What I've Been Wearing So Far in 2025

created with Ideogram AI and lots of Adobe Photoshop

Though my desk is a messy disaster most of the time, I am pretty organized. I like lists, and I am forever updating various Google My Maps with places I plan to visit along with directions on how to get to those places. In 2020, I started a spreadsheet of daily dinners so I would be able to keep track of leftovers and be better able to plan meals (plus we were locked down; there wasn't much else to do). And in January of 2025, I started a SOTD spreadsheet to see which of my many fragrances I wear more often or none at all. 

I don't quite have enough scents to be able to wear a different one every day for 365 days, and I vow never to get near that many. I currently have 200-ish bottles and around two dozen travel sprays (at least according to my Fragrantica wardrobe), so I would have a good part of the year covered. Some scents, however, I might not wear for a few years in a row. Others--usually newer additions to the collection--I will wear more frequently. Until, of course, some new purchases usurp their places in my cold black heart--a regular occurrence. 

In the first third of this year, the 120-day period between January 1 and April 30, 2025, I wore 101 different fragrances. Thirteen of those were samples, only one of which I have since purchased (Perfumer H Rain Wood). On eleven separate days, I layered 2 or more fragrances, and on thirteen others, I wore 2 scents on the same day but at different times. (When I say "wore," I mean applied to my décolletage area, where I normally wear scent. I don't count those I sampled on my forearms or backs of hands, which would raise the number of total scents by several dozen.)

The fragrance I wore most often was D.S. & Durga Pistachio, four times on its own and twice layered with another scent (once each with 4160 Tuesdays Rhubarb & Custard and Sarah Baker Peach's Revenge). Tied for second place were Byredo Gypsy Water and Celine Saint-Germain-Des-Pres, with four wears each.

Several scents I wore thrice (Buchart Colbert Le Bain de Lulu, Maison Louis Marie Bois de Balincourt, Peach's Revenge, A.N. Other WD/18, Gallagher Mists of Time, D.S. & Durga Wear at Maximum Volume, Perfumer H Rain Wood, Profumum Roma Battito D'Ali, Hermes Barenia, and Chanel Paris-Edimbourg). Sixty-five different scents were only worn once, either by themselves, layered, or applied later in the day after my first fragrance faded/I got tired of smelling it. And of course the rest were worn twice. 

Does this info surprise me? Not really. I already knew that I'm pretty fickle when it comes to fragrance, and that I could never be a "signature scent" kinda gal. I don't even really understand why someone would want to smell like the same thing every day forever. I rarely want to smell like the same thing two days in a row, and didn't in the first four months of 2025. What I do find somewhat interesting is that I wore 88 different scents from my collection of just under 230, or about a third, over a third of a year. I highly doubt I'll go through the remaining 2/3 of my collection this year. Several things no longer interest me and should probably be re-homed. Some other perfumes have been discontinued and I'm in no hurry to use up the precious few drops I have left. Seven fragrances I consider "holiday" scents, and will likely rotate only those during the month of December. But we'll see. I think I will repeat this exercise again in early September and then again around January 1, 2026. 

Do you wear a different scent every day? How many do you think you wear over the course of four months? Would love to chat about it in the comments.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

A Favorite: Diptyque Tempo

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Diptyque Tempo 

Patchouli, Mate, Clary Sage, Pink Pepper, Violet Leaf, Bergamot

Lured by the promise of gifts with purchase, I visited the Diptyque Grand Tour pop-up in New York's Meatpacking District in the Fall of 2021. I had recently participated in a Sniffapalooza master class that introduced me to the two new limited-edition Diptyque "Grand Tour" scents, Kyoto and Venise. I was intrigued by the strong greenness of Venise. It came only as a set of three travel sprays--which made it actually affordable--so I bought it. The delicious Paris candle (which I would love as an EDP, hint hint) also went home with me. Almost as a reward for schlepping myself to an area of town I don't visit particularly often, I received the best "gift with purchase" ever: a branded canvas tote, a poster of an early Diptyque design, a box of long matches, and a travel spray of Tempo. Patchouli-heavy fragrances have never been my favorites, but I thought this was one I could wear. To be totally honest, it was love at first sniff. And as a travel spray, I could take it with me on solo trips and avoid comments from my famously patchouli-averse husband.

I have read that perfumer Olivier Pescheux used three varieties of Indonesian patchouli when he created Tempo. I can only identify two: a chocolate-y patch (like the patch in Les Nereides Patchouli Antique); and a sharper/brighter, almost ozonic, woodsy one (like the one in Dior Gris Dior). The only other style of patchouli that I can think of is what I think of as "dirty hippy" patchouli, and I'm not detecting that in Tempo. But what do I know? The first several hours of Tempo is more chocolate-y, a little herbaceous, and somewhat dusty. The long drydown has more of the brighter patchouli, and this is when I love this fragrance most. I feel strong, confident, and very much in-the-know when I wear Tempo. I would buy a large full bottle if I could wear it more often. But like Chanel Coromandel, Mr Minx definitely notices when I wear this one, and not in a good way. Still, Tempo is one of my favorite fragrances and I hope never to be without some in my life.
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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

My "Spring Edit"

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You spot your new crush/love/infatuation across the crowded sales floor. You sniff it, you spray it, you NEED it. And then you buy it. Come on, this happens to all of us except those with strong willpower and tight wallets. It happens to me on the regular. I find myself sampling new fragrances on almost a daily basis and every once in a while--ok, at least once a month--there's something new that I can't live without. So I buy it. Believe me, I've been trying to be better about spending money on perfume, so I've been going for travel sizes, if available. There are so many great scents in my collection, some purchased a decade or more ago, that I don't need to buy anything new. But still...I do.

I think of my collection as having ages. There's the Stone Age, comprising scents that I purchased 15 or more years ago. The Modern Age includes all the stuff I've bought since 2020. And the Middle Age (duh) scents are all the frags I bought between 2010 and the start of the COVID pandemic in 2020. Surprisingly, the Modern Age seems to be the biggest cohort. I blame it on the podcasts I've discovered over the last couple years, and Instagram, and the various perfume Substacks to which I subscribe. They have introduced me to scents I otherwise wouldn't have known existed. 

My goal for this season is to wear scents I've been neglecting. So far, my Spring Edit contains five fragrances I purchased prior to 2025, plus new additions Byredo Gypsy Water and Diptyque L'Eau Papier. 

Armani Prive Orangerie Venise  

Bitter Orange, Citruses, Bergamot, Neroli, Buchu, Ambroxan, Moss, Cedar

This mossy bitter orange scent was one of my fairly rare love-at-first-sniff situations. It was on a table near the up escalator on the Beauty Floor, where Bergdorf Goodman occasionally displays new items. I can't resist a scent that has any part of an orange tree in it, so I gave myself a spritz. My nose was glued to my wrist for the rest of that day. I don't normally visit BG two days in a row, but I made an exception this time because I needed this scent. It has all the orange-y parts that I love, but the moss takes it into a chypre-esque direction that I find so lovely and refreshing in warmer months. I have usually kept this one in circulation through the summer and might do the same this year.

ELDO Don't Get Me Wrong, Baby

Lily-of-the-Valley, Jasmine, African Orange Flower, Marshmallow, Musk, Aldehydes, Cacao, Patchouli, Amber

Quite a few of the floral perfumes I like contain lily-of-the-valley, therefore I must like lily-of-the valley. (This needs more study. Also, I'm going to refer to it as muguet, since that requires less punctuation and fewer words.) Don't Get Me Wrong, Baby (the original, which is a little different from the sequel, Yes, I Do) is a lovely muguet-and-jasmine scent, fairly innocent, a bit sweet, slightly fizzy with aldehydes (making it a touch old-fashioned). I get more of the musk and marshmallow on paper than I do on my skin, and none of the cacao, patch, or amber--so I am totally puzzled at why I like this one so much. In any case, I plan to wear it more this Spring and probably into the Summer.

Fragonard Lilas  

Linden Blossom, Black Currant, Lemon, Lilac, Heliotrope, Hawthorn, Cloves, Musk, Violet, Vanilla

This is a new scent--it came out in 2024--but I only wore it once last year. I discovered I like the smell of lilacs only recently and blind bought this one because it was: 1) inexpensive; 2) created by hottie Aurelien Guichard. Despite the preponderance of other notes, this smells like sticking one's nose directly into a lilac bush (a magical one that's not swarming with bees). A little green, a little spicy, so lovely. And well-priced at less than $50 for 50ml.

Houbigant Iris des Champs  

Lily-of-the-Valley, Bergamot, Pink Pepper, Pear, Rose, Iris, Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Musk, Woody Notes, Sandalwood, Vanilla, Amber

This might have iris in the name, but I wouldn't call it primarily an iris scent. There's definitely a nice bit of muguet and jasmine in this as well. I've seen this called "powdery," but powdery is more a sensation than a scent to me. Iris des Champs is more baby lotion-y in that it's sweetish and creamy. It's vaguely old-fashioned but should appeal to younger folks if they just gave it a try. It was a blind buy for me (from a discounter, 10-ish years ago, probably cost <$60) back when I was eager to add more iris scents to my collection, and definitely a good bet.

L'Occitane Iris Bleu & Iris Blanc

Black Currant, Citruses, White Iris, Iris, Peach, Fig Nectar, Ylang-Ylang, White Musk, Cedar

The iris is right up front in this scent, blended with what smells more like pear than any of the notes listed--certainly not berries, peach, or fig. It's cool and watery, light but not weak, and dries down to a more musky iris. When I sniff my shirt a few hours after applying this, damned if I don't get a bit of peach. I like this one enough that I'm on my second bottle, though I'd say I haven't worn it for at least 5 years. That is changing right now.

Van Cleef & Arpels Gardenia Petale

Gardenia, White Flowers, Jasmine, Green Notes, Lily-of-the-Valley, Citruses

This is a weird one for me. All of the scents that I've tried from Van Cleef & Arpels Collection Extraordinaire are indeed extraordinary, so maybe that's it. California Reverie is my favorite from the collection, also Bois D'Iris and Moonlight Patchouli. This one I got in a trade, and I was totally surprised to love it. As I've mentioned before, I'm not big on jasmine and gardenia can be a bit much for me. But the proportions of both in Gardenia Petale are just perfect, with jasmine taking over by a hair. Overall, the scent is fresh and dewy, gentle and not too heady, and it's not particularly sweet. And I don't particularly care for sweet scents on a warm day. This one is my perfect gardenia perfume. Probably because it's not very gardenia-y.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

What is "Niche?"

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The world of fragrance and fragrance collectors has morphed quite a bit over the years, particularly the 20 or so that I've been heavily into scent. Trends can create shifts in styles and preferences, as can the addition of younger and younger consumers to the hobby. Sweet, fluffy, fruity, and youthful fragrances currently reign supreme at the moment, but something else might be more en vogue next year (god, I hope so). Not only do tastes change, however, but also things that seem like they should be immutable. For instance, the definition of the word "niche," as it pertains to perfumery. 

Back when I started collecting, in the mid-00s, fragrances were sorted into three general categories: mainstream/mass-market, niche, and indie. These designations referred to the number of "doors" or individual shops in which those scents were sold. Mainstream scents could be found in the many hundreds of mall department stores with a fragrance counter (for example, Estee Lauder White Linen) and others, like Revlon's Charlie, were sold in thousands of drug stores. Niche perfumes, on the other hand, were sold in very few shops, including expensive department stores like Bergdorf Goodman or Henri Bendel of which only a handful existed, online stores like Beautyhabit.com, and perfume boutiques like Scent Bar. Finally, "indie," or independent fragrances, were sold by the perfumers themselves on their own websites or shops. 

These days, online discussions still refer to three categories of fragrance, though the term "designer" seems to have replaced mainstream. As the word suggests, designer fragrances are created by companies associated with a fashion designer, like Calvin Klein, and can include both mass-market and "luxury" or "prestige" lines. Independent scents are still mostly sold by the perfumers themselves, though occasionally they can be found at specialized perfume boutiques. But niche has picked up a new definition: fragrances from companies that make nothing but perfume. I've been in arguments with Redditors who will die on that cross and (virtually) scream me down over my assertion that the word niche simply refers to where the scents are sold. Period. Full Stop. 

I want to insert one of my (many) unpopular opinions here because it works with the theme of this post: designer fragrances can also be niche. Let's look at Chanel. Chanel Chance is sold everywhere, from department stores to Sephora and Ulta Beauty, and unlike most Chanel fragrances, can be found at online discounters. It is a mainstream fragrance. But Chanel's Les Exclusifs line is sold only in high-end department stores and Chanel boutiques. Because the number of doors is small, that makes Les Exclusifs niche. Disagree? Let's do my word-geek thing and look at the dictionary definition of the word niche. Pay attention to 2 d.

According to Merriam-Webster: 

1 a : a recess in a wall especially for a statue

   b : something (such as a sheltered or private space) that resembles a recess in a wall

2 a : a place, employment, status, or activity for which a person or thing is best fitted

   finally found her niche

   b : a habitat supplying the factors necessary for the existence of an organism or species

   c : the ecological role of an organism in a community especially in regard to food consumption

   d : a specialized market

Ah. "A specialized market." The word "Market" doesn't only refer to the actual shop in which the product is sold, but also to the group of consumers who would be interested in the product itself. It doesn't matter one bit that the name on this product--in this case, a perfume--is a designer who also makes shoes, watches, and suits. Or that they also sell fragrances that can be purchased at thousands of shops world-wide. The market for Chanel Les Exclusifs is the relatively small group of people who want a well-crafted fragrance created by an in-house perfumer using high quality ingredients and are willing to pay high prices for the privilege. 

In other words, it is the market that creates the designation, not the amount of other stuff that the name on the label does or does not produce. 

Let's make things a little more complicated. Are all the fragrances that we might consider to be niche actually niche? How about Kilian Paris? The company only makes perfume, so it fits the modern internet/social media-favored definition of the term. However, while Kilian fragrances are not sold in Macy's (yet), they are available at Nordstrom and Sephora, which together equal roughly 2000 stores in the US alone. That makes them mainstream--at least the individual Kilian scents that are sold in those places. One can say the same for Tom Ford fragrances. His Private Blend collection--which as a designer luxury line once fit my criterion for niche, as it was sold in few shops--is no longer particularly private. They, too, are available at not only Nordie's and Sephora, but also Macy's, of which there are currently 500-ish locations. (I wouldn't be surprised to see Tobacco Vanille on the shelves at Rite Aid in the future.) Tom's definitely in mainstream category now, despite the ridiculous price tag.

There are probably other examples that don't fit the formula exactly. Celebrity scents that are distributed by companies that only make fragrance products--mainstream or niche? Michelle Pfeiffer's fragrance line Henry Rose--niche or indie? I'm sure there are people who can argue one way or the other, and maybe I would, too. But that's another post for another day.

Have an opinion on the subject? Please leave a comment!

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Bohoboco Polish Potatoes

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 Bohoboco Polish Potatoes

Beetroot, Leather, Wheat, Pine, Grass, Potato, Clove, Rose, Heliotrope, Earthy Notes, Soil Tincture, Patchouli, Amber, Benzoin, Vanilla, Oud, Honey, Birch, Hay, Labdanum

As a second-generation Polish American, I was intrigued by the idea of a fragrance that smelled of potato. I wasn't sure how it would work, but I did know that it was likely to be patchouli-forward, as patchouli can smell very much of damp earth, much as potatoes do. I toyed briefly with blind buying Bohoboco Polish Potatoes, but after watching a rather enthusiastic IG video by Blu Blazer Guy in which he extolled the scent's virtues but also warned that it was rather on the strong side, it seemed more prudent to obtain a sample first. And whew, it is powerful, definitely heading into #beastmode territory if more than a couple of gentle spritzes are applied. That's not necessarily a bad thing if you like patchouli (me) but it's horrifying for those who don't (my husband). 

There are a lot of notes listed for this fragrance, but the vast majority of them don't request your attention. It's predominately a patchouli fragrance, bolstered by additional soil-like notes. I'd call it a dirt patchouli, but not a dirty patchouli. It has a clean earthiness, like a chocolate-y patchouli, but with all the warm cocoa-y aspects removed.

Now to answer the most essential question: does this actually smell like potatoes? Yes! But only for about 20 seconds. Within the plethora of dirt-like notes (the beet in addition to "earthy notes," and "soil tincture") there's a moment early on when a noticeable mushroomy/mildewy something peeks out, smelling very much like a raw, freshly cut, potato. Then it disappears, to be replaced by a somewhat similar, cool and dusty leather note. Interestingly, another type of potato-y scent comes in later in the drydown when vanilla makes an appearance. Did you know that vanillin, the chemical that makes vanilla smell so delicious and, well, vanilla-y, is found in potato peels? (This explains why baking jacket potatoes smells so wonderful.) The vanilla is mingled with ambery notes, making Polish Potatoes a bit softer and (a bit) less about the patchouli. 

Polish Potatoes is actually pretty nice and kinda cozy It's nowhere near as weird as it could be, but I'm also going to say it's not as wearable as it should be. Were it a bit less obnoxiously loud, I think I could get away with wearing this on a cold day. Patchouli + vanilla is never a bad thing. If this came in an EDT formulation, I'd buy it, but as it comes currently, it's a bit too #scentmaxxing.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

One Brand Forever

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Let's play a little game in which each of us are limited to wearing fragrances from a single brand--forever. What company would you choose?

Without thinking about it for very long, I'd pick Chanel.

Perhaps at one time I would have gone with Guerlain. There are 16 Guerlain scents in my collection today, including a few from the Aqua Allegoria line, multiple Shalimar flankers, and three from L’Art & La Matière collection. Guerlain releases 3-4 new scents per year, so I'd always have plenty to choose from. But to be very honest, I have found the newer releases to be less and less interesting and certainly not worth all the $ (to me). Of course, if I limited myself to one fragrance company for the rest of my life, the price would not be as much of an issue as it is currently, what with my promiscuous perfume-buying tendencies and all. Still, it would be nice if they put out a well-priced scent once in a while, one that's not an Aqua Allegoria. It seems that they're stuck on cranking out expensive L'Art & La Matière scents and La Petit Robe Noir clones (over 30 so far). They do like flankers, to be sure. 

Why Chanel? While they don't offer quite as many fragrance choices as Guerlain, overall their scents are more to my taste. I own 6 of their creations so far: No. 18; No. 5 Eau Premiere; Cristalle Eau Verte; Coco EDT; Coromandel; and Paris-Edimbourg. And that handful has all the seasons covered. Cristalle Eau Verte is perfect for the heat of summer while Coromandel has all the cozy winter vibes. No. 18, Eau Premiere, and Paris-Edimbourg work in all seasons. And Coco has been my out-on-the-town evening scent for decades. Two others that I have owned and used up but haven't yet replaced are Allure Sensuelle and Eau de Cologne. I feel that the Cologne is among the very best.

I would be happy to add most of the rest of the Paris-City series (though Paris-Paris is a snooze), La Pausa, 31 Rue Cambon, 1957, Sycomore, and Le Lion to my collection. So far, I haven't fallen in love with anything from the Chance line; it's quite commercial and I have fairly niche body chemistry. It's possible, however, that the next release, or the one after that, would be more to my liking. And while Comète was vaguely disappointing, there are bound to be future additions to the Les Exclusifs line that will turn my head.

Perhaps if I allowed myself to investigate some of the niche brands with more than a handful of fragrances in their inventory--Xerjoff, Diptyque, Ex Nihilo, Micallef, Montale, Mizensir--I might find another house that offers scents that fit all my moods. Other than Hermes, I'd probably stay away from designer brands. It seems that so many of the newer fragrance companies rely on overloading their perfumes with synthetic aromachemicals like cashmeran, hedione, caramel furanone, ethyl maltol, etc.--ones that intend to create more of a vibe than to reproduce a scent that exists in nature. To my nose, these scents are boring, sweet, and smell like at least 10 others already on the market. If you like 'em, fantastic. They're just not my bag--and believe me, I've tried a lot of them. Right now, I am going to stick with Chanel.

What house would you pick to be your number one forever?

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

One Note

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Why am I so obsessed with certain notes that I own multiple variations of a similar scent? For instance, orange blossom/neroli. (Yes, I understand that they are two different perfumery notes, but I'm going to group them together. They are inanimate, so not likely to get their feelings hurt if I do so.) Orange blossom and neroli both come from the flowers of the bitter orange tree. Orange blossom tends to be sweeter and creamier and is extracted from the flower by solvent extraction or enfleurage. Neroli, on the other hand, is fresher and greener, and primarily obtained through steam distillation. Though they have differences, they are alike enough for me to consider them as a single fragrance category. For the duration of this post, I'm just going to refer to both scents as "orange blossom," so please don't get your panties in a twist. I'm not a perfumer or a scientist, just someone who likes to smell good.

I've always been a bit of a collector. Over the years, I've been into Matchbox cars, Barbie dolls, baseball cards, teddy bears, Native American jewelry, cookbooks, and various collectibles related to mermaids, Frida Kahlo, and chile peppers. Currently my sickness includes scented candles and perfumes. I own 16 orange blossom fragrances and am always lusting after another. Among the orange blossom and neroli scents in my collection are Armani Prive Orangerie Venise, Celine Saint-Germain-des-Pres, Clean Blossom, Chanel Eau de Cologne, Elie Saab Essence No. 7 Neroli, ELDO Divin'Enfant, ELDO Une Amourette, Essential Parfums Neroli Botanica, Guerlain Eau Secrete, Guerlain La Cologne du Parfumeur, Lush Orange Blossom, Memoire Liquide Soleil Liquide, Minois Paris Minois, Monotheme Venezia Zagara, Profumum Roma Battito d'Ali, Serge Lutens Fleurs d'Oranger, Tom Ford Neroli Portofino, and Van Cleef & Arpels California Reverie, and I'm sure I will fall in love with and purchase other vaguely similar perfumes in the months and years to come.

I'm not saying that all perfumes with a focus on orange blossom are similar. Well, they do actually share a similarity, but they are not the same. Even if multiple of them claimed to have the same notes, the actual aromachemicals involved can be very different, as well as the amounts of each that are used to create the overall perfume. And of course every perfumer has his or her own style. Still, there are probably more similarities within the family of orange blossom fragrances than between the vast number of rose fragrances. Some rose perfumes I love, others I hate; most I find uninteresting at best. But when I smell a primarily orange blossom fragrance, I am immediately attracted. But why?

It's possible that orange blossom is connected to an early scent memory of mine, but that's doubtful. It's true that I received a set of Tinkerbell floral fragrances when I was about 8 or 9 years old. It included small bottles of rose, lily of the valley, and apple blossom scents, and perhaps honeysuckle, but I do not recall orange blossom specifically. It took a long time for me to get into any sort of floral perfumes, so at that young age I wasn't fond of any of them. Living in Maryland didn't put me anywhere near fresh orange blossoms of any sort. Neither my mother nor my grandmother wore orange blossom, so it's not maternal nostalgia. It's just...I don't know what it is. (We're allowed to not understand things from time to time. Even about ourselves.)

While I'm trying to figure things out, let me tell you about a few of my favorites. (Three of them have already been mentioned on this blog and are linked above.)

Elie Saab Essence No. 7 Neroli 

Neroli, Orange Blossom, Musk, Cloves, White Cedar Extract

I think of this sparkling beauty as a more "grown-up" orange blossom fragrance. The greenish neroli notes make this somewhat dry and chypre-esque, definitely indolic, while the orange blossom warms it up just a little bit. The clove both adds to the warmth but also causes a tiny frisson of coolness. I love to wear this in the evening, on a night out, all year 'round, but I will also wear it on a winter's day.

Guerlain La Cologne du Parfumeur

African Orange Flower, Citruses, Amalfi Lemon, Rosemary, Lavender, Mint, White Musk

I am a big fan of cologne-style fragrances, those fresh citrus bombs that are so deliciously cooling in the sweaty summer. I first encountered La Cologne du Parfumeur at a Sniffapalooza breakfast at Bergdorf Goodman some years ago. There was something special about the orange blossom and herb combination that knocked my socks off; as soon as the breakfast concluded, I was on my way to the Guerlain counter to make a purchase. Few fragrances hook me in such an immediate way, so I had to have it. 

Van Cleef & Arpels California Reverie

Neroli, Mandarin Orange, Jasmine Sambac, Frangipani, Beeswax, Vanilla

Sadly, I cannot remember what fragrance I wore for my own wedding, but I can tell you what I wore as Matron of Honor for my BFF Andree's 2021 nuptials. She wore the fluffy, marshmallow-y, orange blossom scent By Kilian Love Don't Be Shy. I thought California Reverie would be a nice companion scent, similar because of the neroli, but much less sweet. I didn't want to out-smell the bride. Some might argue that this is more about jasmine than orange blossom, and that might be true. I've never been drawn to a straight-up jasmine fragrance, indolic or not. However, the lovely neroli/orange opening drew me in and keeps me wearing this lovely scent.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Fragrance Layering

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I have a confession: though I've collected perfumes for at least 30 years now, I am still brand new to the concept of layering fragrances. 

I always felt that scents should be allowed to stand on their own. But then I kept buying more and more (and more) bottles and at this point have about 250 fragrances in my collection. If I wore a different fragrance every day of the year, I would only cycle through my full collection about 1.5 times every 12 months. As an introvert, I'm not fond of attracting attention to myself, nor do I want to offend anyone, so I'm fairly circumspect about my fragrance application. Let's say a 50ml bottle holds about 600 sprays, and I use 4 per application = 150 applications per bottle x 250 bottles = 37,500 applications of fragrance. That's just shy of 103 years worth of daily use! I'm going to be 60 this year and will be lucky to have another 20 years in me (scary to think that). That said, some of the perfumes in my collection are in the form of travel sprays, but at least half are 100ml bottles, so my estimate of 37K applications is probably on the low side. Yes, I should probably stop buying new bottles of perfume, but what's the fun in that? Perfume collecting is a hobby that brings me great joy. And I've found that selling some of my discontinued perfumes brings in pretty good money. However, I think it would be nice to use up my collection a bit more rapidly than is my wont. I have started using a heavier hand in application, especially with scents I particularly love (D.S. & Durga Pistachio is in this category) and with lighter summertime frags (about half my collection). 

I've also started layering fragrances. The concept was a bit scary at first. How does it work? What if I get it wrong? (The answer to that is to take a shower.) A good rule of thumb is that one should layer fragrances that have complementary or like ingredients. Vanilla, for example, can complement any number of other notes--florals like rose and orange blossom, fruity notes, and various woody accords. Predominately citrus or vetiver scents also layer nicely and can add an aspect that might be missing from the original composition. Obvious is a good label to check out, as they offer several soliflore-style fragrances that cry out to be layered with other scents in the brand or with totally unrelated perfumes. Be warned, however. Scents that might seem to be perfect together could turn into a nightmare. For example, Sarah Baker Perfumes Peach's Revenge + Heretic Dirty Peach = "a photorealistic fart," according to my friend Angie (@angiesmellstheroses on IG and TikTok). 

To make things easier, you can input a list of the fragrances you own into ChatGPT and ask it to "suggest layering combinations." You can refine your question, too, asking for scents that would be good for a night on the town, be it going to the club or a romantic dinner, or suggestions for workplace fragrance combos. Not all of them are going to work, of course. Chat GPT doesn't get the notes right for all the fragrances I've listed, despite all of them being found on Fragrantica. For instance, it seems to think that Imaginary Authors Blend No. 83 is all about antique books and the smell of paper and ink, when it's actually a boozy coffee gourmand, and that Diptyque Venise is either a white musk scent or a woody floral, when it's super green and vegetal. But some of the combinations sound right on. 

One of the more complex suggestions I tried was L'Artisan Parfumeur Poivre Piquant + Trudon Revolution + Indult Reve en Cuir. According to Chat GPT, "this feels like stepping into a hidden, smoky jazz lounge where the air is thick with leather, spice, and mystery." It ain't wrong. It's also a bit much. Revolution is quite assertive; even a double application of Poivre Piquant (first and last) is obliterated by the smoke. Interestingly, the Reve en Cuir made an appearance many hours after application, once Revolution calmed it's ass down. Still, not a combo I'll try again, though I'm determined to find something that will work with Revolution.

A much more successful suggestion was layering L'Artisan Tea for Two over Guerlain Tonka Imperiale. The result was a creamy almondmilk chai that was quite nice. Obvious Un Musc + Maison Louis Marie No.04 Bois de Balincourt was another success, with the muskiness of the former bumping up the cozy factor of the latter at least another notch. 

One of my favorites was Comme des Garçons Kyoto + Ormonde Jayne Isfarkand. The dry woody incense blended so well with the citrusy vetiver, they smelled like they belonged together. Another combo that I liked was D. S. & Durga Wear at Maximum Volume + Tom Ford Grey Vetiver. The DS&D scent already has a lot going on, but the addition of dry, green, and somewhat smoky vetiver made it seem simpler overall and much easier to wear on a warmer day.

I have also come up with some successful layering combinations of my own. Bois de Balincourt and Chanel Paris-Edimbourg is a match made in olfactory heaven. Because neither of them are particularly heavy, I think they'll layer quite well in many combinations. Additionally, I recently obtained a bottle of Diptyque L'Eau Papier and feel that its muskiness will make it a layering hero in my scent wardrobe.

Are you a fan of layering fragrances? Tell me your favorite combos!

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Chopard Casmir

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Casmir
Peach, Coconut, Mango, Bergamot, Fruits, Geranium, Jasmine, Floral Notes, Lily-of-the-Valley, Vanilla, Amber, Sandalwood, Musk, Patchouli, Woodsy Notes

I bought my first bottle of Chopard Casmir not long after it was released in 1991 (Fragrantica says 1992). Back then, I was into sweeter scents; Casmir is definitely sweet, though nowhere near as sugary as many of the perfumes that are popular today. These days--more than 30 years after discovering this beauty--I am much less interested in the sugary stuff, yet Casmir is still one of my all time favorites. Over time, I've gone through at least 8 bottles and will continue buying it for years to come.

Some might describe Casmir as a "fruity vanilla," but I think of it more of an amber scent that happens to have a good dose of vanilla and a bit of peach. Fruity fragrances are all the rage right now and are made to be deliberately and obviously fruity. But the fruit notes in Casmir are just a part of the whole lovely composition, much like the geranium, jasmine, and muguet, none of which stand out to me. It opens with a bit of gentle peachiness mixed with a resinous amber. The scent gets a bit more vanilla-ish as it dries down, but Casmir is otherwise pretty linear. And gorgeous from beginning to end.

I am now going to take a brief moment to nerd out on language. Feel free to skip this part, as it's mostly indicative of the way my chaotic brain works and also my regret that I did not pursue linguistics when I was younger.

The spelling of this perfume's name, C-A-S-M-I-R, signifies a male name of Polish origin. According to Ancestry.com, it:

...holds deep historical significance as it symbolizes the role of a peace keeper. The name is derived from the Slavic elements kaziti and mir, meaning to destroy and peace respectively.

However, the more probable origin of the perfume's name is KASHMIR, a region on the Asian Subcontinent that has been a center for many world religions, such as Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, and Islam. In 1949, Kashmir was partitioned between India and Pakistan. Currently, India controls about half the land area, Pakistan controls about 1/3, and China controls the rest. And there are still territorial skirmishes. 

The etymology of the name Kashmir itself is uncertain, though it's believed to have come from the Sanskrit meaning "to dry up water," relating to the Kashmir Valley having possibly been under water thousands of years ago. [1] 

However, the founder of Chopard was a French-speaking Swiss watchmaker. The French word for Kashmir is Cachemire, not Casmir. Was the spelling of the perfume's name deliberately chosen to reflect the conflict of the region and suggest the fragrance could bring peace?

Or did it just seem like a good name for an "oriental" fragrance? 

And now the bottle.

While Casmir's bottle is lovely, I have to question why Chopard chose to use a pointed dome shape for the cap and arched doorway motif for the container itself. Those elements can be found in buildings like the Taj Mahal, which I suppose immediately springs to mind when considering the architecture of India. It would appear, however, that Kashmiri architecture is not necessarily "typical" of the region. While Google images is in no way a comprehensive means of doing research, my query for "Kashmir architecture" did pull up a couple of rounded silhouettes; none were a similar pointed dome that we think of as an "onion" shape. Overall, I felt the examples of Kashmiri architecture I was able to find more resembled that of East Asia, and the temples indeed were more in the Buddhist pagoda style. As I am an unpaid blogger with a day job, I am not going to do a deeper dive into the architectural styles of the Asian Subcontinent. I am just going to assume that the bottle was made in what Westerners might consider an appropriate shape for a product appearing to be named for a part of that region. 

1. Snedden, Christopher (2015), Understanding Kashmir and Kashmiris, Oxford University Press, pp. 22–,  

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Blind Buy: SJP Covet

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Covet

Sicilian Lemon, Lavender, Dark Chocolate, Pelargonium Leaf, Lily-of-the-Valley, Honeysuckle, Magnolia, Musk, Cashmere Wood, Teak Wood, Vetiver, Amber

I have heard the word "weird" used to describe Covet on several occasions. My opinion is that after it dries down, the scent is as innocent and gentle as Johnson's Baby Lotion. However, it doesn't start out that way. The opening has lemon and floral notes, and something green that I'm thinking is the pelargonium (geranium). I don't feel it actually smells like geranium, which--unless it's a scented geranium--smells like metallic green soil. My grandmother had a variety that had thick twisty stems that almost resembled palm tree trunks, large leaves, and tiny pink flowers. It reeked. That smell has always been what comes to mind when I see a geranium note listed in a fragrance. Thank heavens that's not what it actually smells like. 

There's also something minty there too, and yeah, ok, that's a little odd next to the lily-of-the-valley and honeysuckle and lavender. It evokes the scent of the well-used purse of a mature woman, all Wrigley's wrappers and spilled powder. My mom's purse. But that sensation is fairly fleeting. The musk and amber come in to cozy things up a bit, and that's when it becomes baby lotion. Not a complaint--Covet smells really good on me. I wish I got more of the wood and vetiver, but I'm not crying about it. 

Now, just because Covet was a successful blind buy for me, doesn't mean it will be for you. Fragrancenet currently has it for $35, so it won't break the bank if you do give it a shot.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

Infiniment COTY

created with Ideogram AI and Adobe Photoshop

For over 100 years, Coty has scented the world. Francois Coty's Chypre (1917)--the first chypre-style perfume--is legendary, as are L'Origan (1907), Emeraude (1921), and L'Aimant (1927). They're also famous for drugstore cheapies like Wild Musk (1972), Sand & Sable (1981), Stetson (1981), Ex'cla-ma'tion (1988), Vanilla Fields (1993), and does anyone else remember Smitty (1976)? Coty is also the company behind designer brands like Burberry, Philosophy, Marc Jacobs, Hugo Boss, Gucci, Etro, Chloe, and Calvin Klein. And now they've launched their own prestige brand, Infiniment COTY. 

To learn more about this line, don't go to the Infiniment COTY site, which is big on photos but rather skimpy with introductory text. The following comes from the Jovoy Paris website.  

I am a molecule, I am an aura

The language of INFINIMENT COTY PARIS is that of “augmented” nature, supported by avant-garde science and the noblest ingredients in perfumery. Proudly conveying their messages, the highly concentrated compositions incorporate innovative technology that preserves and amplifies the fragrance’s power and evocative charm, like a prism diffracting light.

It is called Molecular Aura, patent-pending technology that controls the evaporation of precious olfactory molecules, extending the fragrance’s signature up to 30 hours, and transcending the ephemeral aspect of top and heart notes that have dictated fragrance expression up until now.

When fragrance is transcended, emotion is revealed

The 14 fragrances of INFINIMENT COTY PARIS cover the main families of positive human emotions. Each fragrance is linked to a specific emotion proven and measured by neuroscience, acting as an emotion generator. These families include sensuality, pleasure, tenderness, self-esteem and more.

Minimal packaging, maximal performance

Created and designed by Nicolas, the bottle stands as an ode to minimalism. In an extremely complex feat of asymmetry, it reveals a perfectly flat face on one side and boldly pronounced facets on another, single-handedly epitomizing the spirit of the entire collection. In it is the strength of opposites; rounded femininity and vertical masculinity; generous forms and materials; the immaculate white of a blank page from which everything begins.

By virtue of the spherical cap sitting atop the bottle, it also reprises the graphic aspect of the letter “i”. This “i” stands for “I am,” evoking the singularity of each of us that underpins this collection.

It's all rather artsy-fartsy (and possibly AI-generated) isn't it? I suppose that at $290 for 75ml, it has to seem worth the dough. I wish I could find more information on which scent was linked to which specific emotion, but I cannot. And since I'm not being paid for my time here, I'm only willing to dig so deep. In any case, I got my hands on samples of 5 of the 14 scents, courtesy of @angiesmellstheroses (Instagram & TikTok).

None of these are groundbreaking, but boy, are they nice.

Après L'Amour

Tobacco, Labdanum, Ginger

This doesn't smell anything like I expected, but then, I've never been a smoker. My Dad smoked a pipe, so when I see the word "tobacco," I think of the delicious-smelling sweet stuff he regularly puffed. Not cigarettes. And the only experience I have with cigarettes is the disgusting smell of them being smoked. Fortunately, the tobacco in Après L'Amour is virgin tobacco, as yet unsullied by either a paper wrapper or a match. To me, this scent smells like a leather pouch filled with tobacco. At first it's bone-dry, but as it dries down, there's a hint of spicy sweetness. Though one might think a scent like this would lean masculine, there are faint undertones of powdery cosmetics, so the leather tobacco pouch would be just as comfortable residing in a woman's purse as in a man's jacket pocket. 

Aristo Chypre

Patchouli, Chypre Notes, Rose

Chypres are not what they used to be, what with all the IFRA regulations on the use of oakmoss. That said, I've smelled many a modern chypre that wears the category with honor. Aristo Chypre is really more of a dirty rose scent with aspirations of chypre-tude. It's an unwashed panties kind of dirty, especially when first applied. As it settles in, it gets much cleaner, almost soapy. There are some other floral notes in this, maybe something fresh and fruity as well (apple comes to mind). 

Encore Une Fois

Vanilla Planifolia, Bourbon Vanilla, Peru Balsam

This is a lovely, grown-up, vanilla. It smells a bit like straight alcohol at first, but that mellows into more of a booziness that is somehow powdery at the same time. This scent is sexy, without being overt, like a hint of lacy camisole peeking out from under a blouse. Encore Une Fois is not very sweet and has a definite woodiness, and the long drydown has a powdery almost-rootbeer thing going on. I've seen it compared to Guerlain Spiriteuese Double Vanille; they're in the same family, I suppose, but SDV is sweeter, boozier, stronger, and more complex, and I prefer it. Still, Encore is quite nice and I would definitely wear it if someone gave me a bottle.

Or de Moi

Tuberose, Moss, Chypre Notes

My first thoughts at sniffing Or de Moi were "oh!" followed by "1980 power perfume." This is most definitely a tuberose fragrance, but a surprisingly subtle, non-screechy one. It's somewhat powdery, and even rather staid. Yet at the same time, while the tuberose itself is (somewhat) restrained, the entirety of the scent took me straight back to the loud and over-the-top days of giant room-filling perfumes: the1980s. There are ghosts of Giorgio and Prescriptives Calyx haunting this, along with big hair and suits with shoulder pads. 

Soleil d'Ikosim

Orange Blossom, Neroli, Vetiver

I'm crazy for orange blossom/neroli fragrances, and this one is lovely. It has both candied orange blossom and green neroli, anchored by an earthy and somewhat leathery vetiver. But I'm not sure if the Molecular Aura is working properly with this scent. Four hours in and it's faded quite a bit; I seriously doubt it will be at all noticeable in 12 hours, much less 30. And my skin is good at holding onto scent. This one is my favorite of the five, and I look forward to trying the other 9 at some point. There is a new Infiniment COTY boutique in NY, up near the Met, that seems worth a visit at some point unless Bergdorf's or Saks starts carrying the line.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.

No, That's MINE!

created with Ideogram AI and Adobe Photoshop

Gatekeeping is a selfish, childish, needlessly exclusionary practice that has been a recent subject in Facebook fragrance groups and elsewhere. For those who don't know what I'm talking about, answer these questions:

1. If someone asks what fragrance you're wearing, do you:

A) Tell them

B) Lie

2. What are your feelings about encountering a person who is wearing the same fragrance that you are wearing?  

A) They have great taste!

B) They're encroaching on my territory!

What about if that person is wearing your fragrance because YOU recommended it to them? Still feel possessive? 

I don't get that. At all. 

My answer to both questions is A. If someone asks what I am wearing, I tell them. And If I run into someone who happens to be wearing the same scent that I sprayed on myself that day, I'm going to think that person has good taste. Clearly, because they like something I like--and my taste is impeccable. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I am not trendy. I'm not going to be wearing the designer top sellers, the Good Girls, Libres, Paradoxes, Donnas, and Goddesses. And probably not any niche and niche-adjacent superstars like Baccarat Rouge 540 (definitely not), Delina, or Vanilla Candy Rock Sugar. (Not that anything is wrong with any of them, they're just not my thing.) Many of my favorite scents have been discontinued, so the likelihood of my running into someone who is wearing Iris Prima, Theorema, or Odori Iris is close to nil. I'd be gobsmacked if I met someone wearing 10 Corso Como, Battito d'Ali, or Bapteme du Feu--but if I did, I'd think that person was pretty darn special.  

In other words, it's totally fine for someone to wear the same scent I am wearing at the same time. I don't understand the folks who get all up in arms about it. The choice B people.

A while back, I overheard a conversation between multiple people who took umbrage over smelling what they considered their fragrance on another person. None of them were people who have a "signature scent," but perfume packrats just like me who own dozens or hundreds of bottles of different fragrances. Heaven forbid any of these greedy goblins are wearing Baccarat Rouge 540 or Santal 33 while walking through the streets of New York City. Their heads would explode at the sheer number of others wearing the same. 

There are one or two circumstances in which I can understand (somewhat) the selfishness. Ok, one. The case of the Signature Scent. An example: I mentioned a former co-worker, Michele, in a past post. Her signature scent, the only perfume she ever wore, was Giorgio Red, and she smelled fabulous. We worked for a very small company, in extremely tight quarters, and she would have noticed if I adopted her fragrance for myself. But why would I? Even back then, there were hundreds of other fragrances I could choose to wear, so I did. I have always been a promiscuous perfumista, seldom wearing the same scent two days in a row. I didn't even try Red on my own skin until recently, a full 30 years later. 

Another friend with whom I worked wore Clinique Happy every day, and smelled amazing. Sadly, it was like hot garbage on my skin. But even had it worked with my body chemistry, I wouldn't have worn it. Especially not to work. To be honest, I don't know how either Ms Red or Ms Happy would have reacted had I shown up at the office wearing their signature scent. I have a feeling that neither would have cared much, but I would have understood had they been upset. 

Another circumstance in which it's ok to be selfish about a fragrance is....

Hmm...well, I can't come up with another example. I think that's pretty much the only time someone shouldn't wear the same fragrance as someone else: when they are in close proximity to the original wearer on a regular basis, and that's the original wearer's "signature." Otherwise, wear what you want when you want to wear it. And if someone doesn't like it, that's just too damn bad.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks
Note: this post is my opinion. I am not affiliated with the companies mentioned in this post or any other companies.