Thursday, May 28, 2026

Scenting a Book Fair, Part 2

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Queen of Dreams: The Pastry Problem

At first, I thought creating a scent inspired by Savage Gourmand would be the harder challenge. After all, Killer Sillage revolves around Lycoctonum, a fictional perfume composed of dark roses, damp green things, and leather. Surely the fragrance world already contained at least one dramatic, vaguely poisonous rose chypre I could point to and say, “There. That’s close enough.”

Meanwhile, Savage Gourmand features a recurring fragrance called Queen of Dreams, a scent inspired by kouign-amann, the caramelized Breton pastry made from extra buttery, laminated yeast dough and sugar. While modern perfumery is absolutely drowning in gourmands at the moment, most of them smell less like actual pastry and more like cupcakes. Also marshmallows, frosting, and straight-up sugar. Sometimes a sweet coffee drink. Rarely, if ever, bread.

What I needed was something that smelled of yeast. Kouign-amann is not merely sweet. It is caramelized and deeply buttery, yes, but also almost savory around the edges, with crisp browned layers and a distinct suggestion of bread beneath all the sugar. This sent me on a quest involving many orders of perfume decants, leading to an alarming number of blotters scattered across my desk.

I thought I had a breakthrough when I found a couple of Etsy sellers offering pastry-scented perfumes. I ordered several samples from one, and while they all had the right vibe and appropriate yeasty notes, they also smelled very... inexpensive. There's a note like wet cardboard in low-quality perfumery ingredients that I cannot not smell, and it ruins things for me. Yet, when I saw another seller's fragrance called simply, Butter Croissant, I ordered it anyway. And it was... perfect. At least as far as the bread component is concerned. It smelled of salted butter and yeast, not exactly like a croissant, but close enough. Much like grape soda doesn't taste of actual grapes, but we still recognize it as such. (And no wet cardboard!)

Another fragrance called Asian Bakery, by a company called Mochiglow, instantly transported me into the bakeries I haunt in my adopted home-away-from-home, Manhattan's Koreatown: warm milk bread, lightly sweet dough, tender pastries. Not super sweet, and thankfully not artificial. Just... bread. Beautiful bread. (Personally, I love bread so much I would marry it if I wasn't already married.) 

Butter Croissant layered with Asian Bakery fulfilled the essential bready aspect of kouign-amann. But I still needed a subtle sweet note. Something caramelized. 

Suzy Nightingale of the On the Scent podcast had suggested that I look into Demeter Pretzel, which honestly was almost perfect on its own. But I really wanted additional yeasty notes that it was lacking. It also has the vaguest cinnamon sugar vibe that's not quite right. When I placed that order, I also added their Sticky Toffee Pudding. That was a flash of genius on my part, as it turned out to be the missing piece of the puzzle that added the proper caramelized sweetness to my buttery pastry base. Since Demeter fragrances have the longevity of a fart in a windstorm, I ordered the oil formulation, which serves to anchor the concoction to my paper blotters and makes the scent last quite a long time. Weeks, actually.

Suddenly, there it was.

Not a literal kouign-amann, perhaps. No perfume can truly replicate the experience of standing in a bakery and taking a big bite out of a flaky pastry. But close enough that someone picking up a blotter at a book fair might immediately think: “Wow. That smells delicious.”

Which, frankly, is exactly the reaction I am hoping for.

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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.

Friday, April 24, 2026

Scenting a Book Fair, Part 1

There’s a book fair for local authors coming up in May, and I’ll be there with stacks of my cozy mysteries, Killer Sillage and Savage Gourmand. Since my stories are set in a perfume store, I thought I'd bring a bit of that atmosphere to the table. And no, I’m not going to attack people with atomizers. I’m thinking smaller: pre-sprayed blotters that a customer can pick up and sniff, or not.

I thought that finding a scent for Killer Sillage would be the easy part. The central fragrance, Lycoctonum, is all dark roses, damp green things, and a bit of leather. It’s moody, elegant, and solvable. There has to be something out there already that would fit the bill. Right? Right?

Savage Gourmand seemed like it could be far more difficult to scent. Not that there's any shortage of gourmand fragrances on the market at the moment, but I wanted something specific. In the book, there’s a recurring scent called Queen of Dreams, which is supposed to evoke kouign-amann, that buttery, caramelized crown of laminated dough originally from Breton. In my thirty-ish years of fragrance collecting experience, I've encountered few gourmand scents that actually smell like pastry. Oh, sure, there are plenty of vanilla cupcake and roasted marshmallow clones out there in perfume-world, but how many of them also have the essential bready, yeasty quality that actual pastries possess? Um, none? At least none that I've encountered.

While I already have a ridiculous collection of perfumes and samples, including those with the rose, leather, green, and gourmand notes I would need to create my book fair scents, I thought I would also ask for expert opinions. First, I wrote to Sean Colbert, founder and perfumer of Buchart Colbert, a US-based fragrance house that has six very lovely fragrances (which I wrote about here). He responded that while gourmands weren't his field of expertise, he did have some suggestions for Lycoctonum

I also requested a perfume prescription from the lovely fragrance mavens from the On the Scent podcast, Suzy Nightingale and Nicola Bonn. They quickly put together a list of candidates for both Queen of Dreams and Lycoctonum

Once I had their lists, I ordered samples from Scent Split and Surrender to Chance, and a couple of roll-on perfume oils from Demeter. 
 
This was going to be easy. Right? 

Stay tuned!
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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.

Wednesday, March 11, 2026

Regrets, I Have a Few

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Many of my perfume regrets have one thing in common: I never smelled them first. I trusted the people who wrote the descriptions. I believed the copy, the reviews, the poetic shorthand that promised restraint, balance, or “just enough sweetness.” I assumed that when multiple experienced noses agreed on how something behaved, it would behave that way on me.  It turns out that trust was often misplaced, and my shelves are littered with the ghosts of blind buys that arrived sounding beautiful and left me disappointed.

Blind buys aren't the only perfume purchases I have bemoaned. Regret comes in many forms, including the heartbreak of lost or leaked bottles, the exasperation of customer-service nightmares, or simply the fading of excitement over time, as well as the betrayal of advertising copy.

Balmain Ambre Gris is Exhibit A in my shrine of blind-buy horrors. When it launched in 2008, it was spoken of as a salty amber, mysterious and coveted. I managed to snag a bottle from a discounter for about $60, a minor miracle, but the victory was short-lived. On my skin, Ambre Gris didn’t whisper elegance. It screamed bad breath. I’m talking the kind of olfactory assault that makes you imagine the scent of someone who forgot to brush, floss, and maybe even rinse for a week.

What I do not regret is selling that bottle on eBay for $250. The market may be irrational, but at least my nose is safe from smelling that smell on my skin again. Ambre Gris taught me two things: first, that blind-buy hubris can backfire spectacularly, and second, that capitalism has a sense of humor. (And, I must admit, that nearly 20 years later, the scent improved considerably, though not enough to keep it.) 

Eau de Boujee Verdant is Exhibit B. I am a sucker for green fragrances that are lush, leafy, and fresh, but I had completely forgotten that the “cactus” note in Verdant was actually crafted with Calone, a chemical I personally find horrid. The real reason I bought it? FOMO. I’d heard the On the Scent Podcast hosts raving about this British brand and felt like I needed to own something from Eau de Boujee. Shipping from the UK was $50, so I decided to go big: a full bottle of Verdant, travel sprays of the other three scents, and a candle. I wanted a taste of the hype, but what I got was a punch of synthetic cucumber and the faint, mocking laughter of my own impulses. (Two of the other scents remain in my collection, as does the candle, so all was not lost.)

Slice Society Snif is Exhibit C, and it broke my heart. The promise? Pizza. A fragrance that would summon mozzarella, dough, tomato sauce... all the comforting, greasy magic of a proper slice. What arrived instead was a cruel joke. For about ten glorious seconds, it hinted at tomato sauce, a fleeting whisper of what might have been. Then came a yeasty note that smelled far more like beer than bread, as if some sad tavern ghost had wandered into my bottle. And then, just when I thought it might recover, BAM! Tart blackcurrants hit, merciless and uninvited, leaving not a trace of pizza behind. I wore it once and never touched it again. Now I'm even afraid to try fragrances with a prominent blackcurrant note.

Akro Awake is Exhibit D, the coffee fragrance that should have awakened my senses but instead gave me nothing but regret. It’s technically accurate: the promised coffee, cardamom, and lemon notes are all present, but the vetiver dominates with the subtlety of a jackhammer. Wearing it felt like enduring a caffeine headache trapped in a glass bottle. It was sharp, spiky, and totally relentless. Every inhale reminded me that just because a fragrance hits all the right notes on paper doesn’t mean your nose will agree. I sampled it, thought I liked it, bought it, and realized my nose had been playing a joke on me.

Guerlain Spiritueuse Double Vanille is Exhibit E, a regret of the heartbreakingly subtle variety. I adored this smoky, rich vanilla so much that I treated it like a treasure: kept it in its original box, stored carefully in a plastic bin alongside other fragrances, and decanted in tiny amounts into a smaller bottle to use at will. But eventually, life got busy, and I didn’t touch it for a while. When I was ready to decant a little more, I discovered the horror. The screw cap had betrayed me and the liquid had leaked, leaving nothing but a smear of residue in the bottle. Years of love, care, and obsessive rationing, gone! (Yes, I cried.) 

I thought this fragrance was expensive when I bought it, but it now costs twice as much. Sadly, it will never again be part of my collection--unless some rich benefactor comes my way.

Ormonde Jayne Ambre Royal is Exhibit F, and its regret lies not in the scent itself but in the Kafkaesque nightmare of getting it. I had smelled the line years ago and remembered loving Ambre Royal, so when a coupon made a 30ml bottle affordable, I snapped it up. Shipping from the UK was fast, but my excitement curdled the moment I opened the package and found that they sent the wrong fragrance.

The website promised a smooth exchange if I notified them within 14 days. I emailed the same day. Five days later, nothing. I emailed again. Five more days later, the message had been read but ignored. Third email. A few days after that, I finally got a reply. They’d agree to exchange it. Around the same time, Black Friday sales started, and I realized 50ml of Ambre Royal was now $30 cheaper than the 30ml I had not yet received. I tried negotiating a creative solution: send me the 50ml plus another fragrance at the sale price, bill me the difference.

By the time the correct order arrived, about a month and a half later, after approximately 18 emails, I no longer wanted it. I haven’t even worn it. Ambre Royal remains, unopened, a trophy of bureaucracy and lost enthusiasm.

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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.

Wednesday, February 25, 2026

Good News! Sorta...

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When I was in New York in January, I noticed that Macy's not only had a Guerlain counter, but a Guerlain counter that offered their super pricey L'Art & la Matière collection. As I wandered, I noticed other high-end brands like Byredo, Acqua di Parma, and Balmain. I was impressed.

Then I spoke to the sales associates.

At the Guerlain counter, I asked if they had any Eau de Coton, from the Les Matières Confidentielles line. The SA looked confused. Scanned the bottles on display. Opened a few drawers and had me look inside them. "Do you see it?" She pointed to a couple bottle of Les Colognes that were tucked away. "Are these it?"

No. They weren't it.

At the Acqua di Parma counter, I was excited to finally try Buongiorno, a bright herbal-citrus scent. The SA was excited to have a customer, so he kept offering to spray different scents on blotters for me. (Note to SAs everywhere--most of us are perfectly capable of doing that ourselves.) Unfortunately, I had no idea what he was spraying, because he butchered the pronunciation of every single one of them.

Annoyed, I drifted off and spotted Balmain. I had already sniffed their scents at Bergdorf Goodman last summer, but thought I'd give them another go. 

I asked the SA if Balmain was part of the store's expansion of high-end brands, or if they had brought them in because Balmain Beauty was part of the Estee Lauder empire. He didn't know that Balmain Beauty was an EL company and waved that off as "some new gossip going around." (The collaboration between the two companies started in 2022.) He also didn't know that Ivoire had originally been launched in 1979. Sadly, the Ivoire launched in 2024 in no way resembles the original. The same is true of Vent Vert, which now opens with an almost rotten-smelling vegetal note, which may just be how my nose interprets the chemical Calypsone. (Which, according to Frangrantica, "smells ozonic, like sea breeze, with fruity watermelon nuances." Sounds like Calone to me, and we all know how much I like that one. [puking emoji])

I walked out of Macy’s irritated, not dazzled. Yes, it’s impressive that they’re carrying luxury fragrance now, at least at the New York flagship, but it’s hard to take the effort seriously when no one behind the counter seems to know what they’re selling.

High-end perfume isn’t just a price tag and a glossy display. If Macy’s wants to play in the luxury space, they need to do more than stock expensive bottles and hope for the best. Train your sales associates. Teach them the names, the lines, the legacies. Otherwise, this isn’t a luxury experience. It’s just a very expensive scavenger hunt, staffed by people who don’t know what they’re looking for either.

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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.

Monday, February 2, 2026

The Year in Perfume: 2025

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Looking back at 2025 through the fragrances I wore feels a little like reading a diary written in scent. I tracked every spray, sample, decant, and layering combination and was surprised to find which scents I reached for most often. Not surprisingly--as I tend to wear warmer scents in the winter and lighter ones in summer--some weeks were vanilla and warm, others bright, green, and a bit tomato-y. 

What was most interesting to me was that my most-grabbed scents were all purchased in 2025. Byredo Gypsy Water (15 wears) was my number one scent of the year, followed by 1907 Vanilla Dry and Liis Ethereal Wave (12 wears each), and Chanel Paris-Edimbourg and Escentric Molecules Molecule 01+Mandarin (8 wears each). These kept showing up, week after week, season after season. They were comforting, reliable companions, and both Paris-Edimbourg and Molecule 01+Mandarin layer fabulously. 

Amusingly, I didn't even like Vanilla Dry or Ethereal Wave when I first tried them. One sample test each and they were rejected. Months later, I gave them second tries and fell in love. Funny how that happens.

I also flirted a lot. Some perfumes I wore only a couple of times: Marissa Zappas Annabel’s Birthday Cake, Lush Turmeric Latte, Bond No.9 Andy Warhol Silver Factory. Not because I don't love them. I recently purchased the Zappas scent and plan to wear it more in the winter. I bought the Lush scent just before Spring and found it too rich to wear in warm weather. I tucked it away with my holiday-appropriate fragrances and realized in December that it will be perfect to wear in the upcoming months. As for the Bond scent, well, I fall in love with it every time I put it on. I just don't know why that doesn't happen particularly frequently. 

And then there was layering. The early months of the year were almost ridiculous, thanks to ChatGPT offering some surprisingly good (and occasionally disastrous) suggestions. Poivre Piquant over Trudon Revolution and Indult Rêve en Cuir? Definitely…a lot.

Seasonally, my rotation tells its own story. Winter was vanilla, amber, and gourmands, for that cozy and comforting feel. Spring brought florals, lighter musks, and a bit of freshness. Summer smelled of citrus, green, and light woody scents. Fall really marked the transition between the warmer temperatures of September and the chill of December. 

Looking at it all together, I realized that perfume doesn't just decorate life, it marks time, mood, and memory. Some weeks were vanilla and warm, some bright and citrusy, some layered beyond reason, but all of them were uniquely mine. Perfume didn’t tell the whole story of 2025, but it told a quieter, smellier one—and sometimes that’s the one I prefer.
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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.

Monday, January 26, 2026

A Favorite: Chanel Les Exclusifs No. 18

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Chanel Les Exclusifs No. 18
Ambrette (Musk Mallow), Iris, Rose, Geranium, White Musk

I have to admit, Chanel No. 18 isn’t a fragrance that comes up in everyday conversation. It’s one of those Les Exclusifs gems that hides in plain sight. It's less famous than No. 5, Coco, or No. 19, but quietly brilliant. And after spending some serious time with it over the last several years, I can see why.

No. 18 is a musky, aromatic, slightly metallic fragrance that feels both classic and modern. It’s perfect for anyone who likes their perfume refined, intimate, and a little unexpected. This scent is built around ambrette seed, a musky, slightly carrot-y ingredient that smells clean, luminous, and very skin-like. Add iris, and you get this cool, slightly metallic shimmer that lifts the musk without softening it too much. The result is a fragrance that is cold, clean, entirely unisex, and never feels like it’s trying too hard. 

What’s most striking about No. 18 is its subtlety. It’s never loud or flashy. If it was a color, it would be a silvery grey. It’s the type of scent that rewards close attention, an intimate fragrance that you don’t notice across the room, but when you do, it lingers in your memory. Some people even call it “like freshly washed skin,” and I’d argue that’s not far off. But it’s also luminous, and just a little mysterious.

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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.

Thursday, January 15, 2026

2025 Purchases

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If you’re on TikTok, you’ve probably seen those end-of-month videos where fragrance lovers confess everything they bought in the last thirty days. I didn’t make that many perfume purchases in 2025, so instead of monthly reckonings, here’s one full accounting of the year.

All told, I added 29 fragrances to my collection. I’m not counting anything I bought for my husband, and I’m also excluding samples and travel sprays--this list is full bottles only. Paying full retail isn’t really my thing, so most of these came from discounters, coupon codes, or overseas vendors (at least before the de minimis exemption met its untimely demise). There were seven purchases made at a brick-and-mortar boutiques where retail prices were unavoidable, but the rest were bought at a discount.

Here’s the damage:

  • 1907 Vanilla Dry — $136.89

  • 4160 Tuesdays Rhubarb & Custard — $180

  • Al-Rehab French Coffee — $7.99

  • Buchart Colbert Faison D'Or — $148

  • Byredo Gypsy Water — $174.99

  • Calvin Klein Obsession — $19.19

  • Chanel Paris-Edimbourg — $123

  • Dolce & Gabbana The Only One EDP Intense — $62.99

  • D.S. & Durga Wear at Maximum Volume — $250

  • Diptyque L’Eau Papier — $102.66

  • Gallagher Mists of Time — $115

  • Heeley Palm — $156.60

  • Hellenist Les Bras de Morphée — $48

  • Henrik Vibskov L’Eau Rouge Nature — $127

  • Hermès Barénia — $73.38

  • J-Scent On a Cloud — $79.50

  • Kerosene Winter of ’99 — $164

  • Liis Ethereal Wave — $175

  • Marissa Zappas Annabel’s Birthday Cake — $131.25

  • Memo Eau de Memo — $99.70

  • Miller et Bertaux Tulsivivah! — $124.20

  • Nasomatto Absinth — $89.99

  • Odin 01 Sundara — $165

  • Oriza L. Legrand Empire des Indes — $178.50

  • Escentric Molecules Molecule 01 + Mandarin — $129.19

  • Perfumer H Rain Wood — $146.66

  • Pineward Tome — $80

  • Sarah Baker Peach’s Revenge — $265

  • Trudon Bruma — $205.33

The total comes to approximately $3,759, assuming I didn’t fat-finger the calculator (entirely possible). That may sound like a lot, but I know people who spend that in a single month. I will not be naming names.

There’s another side to this ledger, though. In 2025, I sold 25 rare and discontinued fragrances on eBay, grossing just over $5,000. After taxes, shipping, and fees took their cut, the actual payout landed at $3,453. If I treat that resale income as my fragrance budget, then my out-of-pocket cost for all those new bottles was just $306.

By that math, I did pretty well in 2025.

Unfortunately, this particular trick won’t work again in 2026. I’ve already sold off just about every bottle in my collection that anyone might reasonably want to pay serious money for. Which means next year’s tally, if there is one, will look very different.

And probably much more painful. 

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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.

Monday, January 5, 2026

Sorry and Sorry

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I want to apologize to my readers for neglecting this blog in the second half of 2025. 

One reason is that I've been very busy with my new side hustle as novelist. Since June of 2025, I have written nearly 140,000 words, which includes two complete novels and a novella. The first book, Killer Sillage, came out in September, and is available in both paperback and Kindle format. The second book, Savage Gourmand, is slated to be released in April, though I have not yet listed it for pre-order. The novella, Season's Greedy, was serialized on my author Substack, LaGue's Clues. I am also currently plotting book three in the Good Scents series of cozy mysteries. The hope is that A Murderous Accord will be published in September of 2026.

(You see what I did there with the titles, don't you? The protagonists in this series run a perfume shop in the Fells Point neighborhood of Baltimore, Maryland. If you're into fragrance--and you might be if you're reading this blog--you might enjoy them.)

Another reason is less fun to talk about. The current political climate has caused me to withdraw from things like social media. I still participate in Instagram and Facebook, but not to the extent I once did. I’ve unfollowed everything that reliably pisses me off. (And yet, I joined TikTok. Apart from a couple of fellow perfume lovers, Angie and Lois, pretty much everything about that platform also pisses me off.)

As I get older, I’ve realized I don’t want to be angry all the time. I don’t want to argue with strangers or marinate in outrage. Avoiding potential triggers feels less like disengagement and more like self-preservation. While my blogs are fully under my control, and contentious comments are rare, I still found myself avoiding them.

Maybe it's not healthy that I've retreated into my own fictional world of perfume shop owners and dead bodies, but it sure beats the realization that I can no longer order perfumes from Nose or Jovoy in Paris and 50-ML in Milan, or supplies for my jewelry business from China, because of tariffs. 

So if Minxstinks went a little quiet, consider this my apology—and my explanation. I haven’t fallen out of love with perfume; I’ve just been hiding in it. Stepping back wasn’t about disengaging so much as choosing what deserves my attention. Perfume still does. Writing does too. And this blog, when I let it be a place of pleasure rather than pressure, does as well. Thank you for sticking around and for coming back when I do.

Here's to a happy 2026 (fingers crossed).

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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.

Thursday, January 1, 2026

What I've Been Wearing in 2025 - September through December

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I thought it would be fun (and a little nerdy) to keep counting what I actually wore as the year wound down. From September through December, I surprised to see that I wore 88 different fragrances, 22 more than the prior period. As usual, plenty of those were one-offs, samples, or brief flirtations. But a few scents clearly wanted more time on my skin, and one in particular made a convincing case for emotional-support status.

J-Scent On a Cloud, worn seven times, was the clear standout. It's soft, milky, and quietly comforting. It's not flashy, not seasonal cosplay, just consistently right. Close behind was Trudon Bruma, with four wears, a peppery, warm iris that is an excellent bridge between seasons. After all, the word bruma refers to the winter solstice in Latin.

A small group of fragrances showed up three times each, quietly anchoring the season: Guerlain's new Shalimar L’Essence, Buchart Colbert Faison D'Or, Celine Saint-Germain-des-Pres, Acqua di Parma Mandorlo di Sicilia, Chanel Paris-EdimbourgMolecule 01 + Mandarin, Ellis Brooklyn Salt, and Miller et Bertaux Tulsivivah! These neatly sum up my fall preferences, balancing classic warmth, gentle sweetness, and aromatic depth.

Several others earned repeat appearances (two wears apiece), including Liis Ethereal Wave, Memo Eau de Memo, Sana Jardin Air of Aquarius, Estee Lauder Azuree Soleil, Buchart Colbert Le Bain de Lulu, Lubin Idole, 1907 Vanilla Dry, Bruno Acampora Musc, Une Nuit Nomade Sugar Leather, Guerlain Eau Secrète, Frapin 1270, Lush Turmeric Latte, ELDO Noël au Balcon, Marissa Zappas Annabel’s Birthday Cake, Chabaud Lait et Chocolat, Bamford Gray, Maison Louis Marie Bois de Balincourt, and Pineward White Fir. Everything else in the log made a single appearance.

There was a definite seasonal arc. 

September leaned light and citrussy, with airy woods, aromatics, and transparent musks. These were fragrances that lifted off the skin rather than hugged it: Hermes Jardin sur le Nil, Laboratorio Olfattivo Pampelmo, 19-69 Capri, alongside Escentric Molecules Molecule 01 + Mandarin, Byredo Gypsy Water, and Maison Louis Marie Bois de Balincourt. Even when warmth appeared, it was sunlit rather than cozy. 

October acted as a hinge month, holding onto freshness while introducing amber, spice, and soft vanilla as texture rather than dessert. I did more layering in this month, too. By November, the log shows a clear turn toward resins, musks, ambers, and spiced woods.

December was definitely all about the holidays. Several fragrances evoked the season explicitly. Pineward White Fir, worn on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, balances evergreen, spice, and a touch of orange. It's festive without being a novelty scent. ELDO Noël au Balcon shares some of that DNA but is quieter, honeyed and spiced, missing the evergreen. The spicy-gourmand department is rounded out by two scents that make me think of gingerbread: my old favorite, Fendi Theorema (classic, spicy gingerbread) and a new one, Kerosene Winter of 99, which is molasses-forward, rich and nostalgic.

Even On a Cloud, my most-worn scent, fits neatly into this palette: peppermint meringue, airy and sweet, like candy canes rather than cake. It's light, festive, cozy, but needs to be layered with something like Bath & Body Works Twisted Peppermint body cream to extend the wear.
 
As we move into the new year, I’m curious whether this cozy, festive streak will deepen or loosen its grip. Will On a Cloud keep its crown? (Though it evokes candy canes, I think peppermint might be nice in January, too.) Or will a surprise fragrance break through? Either way, I’ll be counting, and I hope you'll be here to read.

Happy 2026!

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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.

Monday, November 3, 2025

October Sample Haul

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I test a lot of samples, so I thought I'd give you some brief impressions on a monthly basis.

d'Annam Japanese Whiskey
Whiskey, Clary Sage, Oak, Barley, Chestnut, Sandalwood
I've tried Japanese whiskey--Suntori--but it was a while ago and I don't remember what it smells like. Maybe it smells like clary sage and barley with a slightly creamy sandalwood nuttiness? It's nice, but I'll echo the main complaint: nobody needs 150ml at $380. 

D.S. & Durga Cognac Reign
Caramelized Bergamot, Orris Absolute, Orris Concrete, Cognac, Tonka, Cognac Barrel Accord
Somewhat boozy, lightly sweet iris and tonka scent with a woody backdrop. It's delicious, and a full bottle is in my future.

Regime des Fleurs 
I hadn't tried any by this company before, but these two intrigued me. I preferred Green Vanille over Blood Spider Orchids, but not enough to shell out $275 for 75ml.

Green Vanille
Chamomile, Hazelnut, Almond Milk, Vanilla, Coriander, Benzoin, Atlas Cedar, Sandalwood, 
Haitian Vetiver
Normally I stay away from scents with a hazelnut note because I have found several of them rather sickening. This one, however, is quite nice and rather short lived. The rest of the opening is great, a bit green, some coziness, and a smell not unlike the very addictive Carmex lip balm. It dries down to a balsamic vanilla with some woods and spice. I wish I had a spray instead of a dabber of this; dabbing makes it wear too close to the skin and I practically had to snort my wrist to get a whiff. Pretty nice, but out of my price range. 

Blood Spider Orchids
Cinnamon, Clove, Tonka Bean, Frankincense, Benzoin, Jasmine, Nutmeg, Patchouli, Cedarwood
This reminds me of stepping into the old hippie candle/incense/mineral shop that used to be on Read Street in Baltimore. It smelled of perfumed incense--those little burnable cones or sticks of stuff that smelled of jasmine or spices, not actual frankincense. It also smells a bit like apple pie. It's pleasant, somewhat Christmassy, but there's a dusty powderiness that I'm not loving. Not as fantastic as the name would imply.

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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.

Monday, October 27, 2025

Still More Unpopular Opinions: Why Fragrance Collecting Isn’t a Sport

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Your nose is not a scoreboard. Smell what you love, not what impresses Instagram.

It’s Not a Competition.
Scrolling through Instagram accounts of fragrance collectors, I sometimes feel like I’ve stumbled into the Olympics of Perfume Ownership. “I have this rare bottle!” “I have that one too!” Cool story, bro, but… why are we racing to see who can hoard the most scents? Perfume should delight the senses, not fuel a flexing contest.

“Smellmaxxing” is for children, and kind of rude. Seriously, why would a grown adult want to announce their presence like a foghorn of fragrance? I don’t want to smell you before I see you. I don’t want your perfume following me around like a persistent shadow. Smelling more (not better) than the next person shouldn’t be a sport

Top 5 lists are nonsense. When a blogger declares “The 5 Best Fragrances for Women/Men/Everyone,” just remember: what’s best for them isn’t necessarily best for you. Our noses are wildly subjective. Some people are anosmic to specific notes; others may find a beloved note unbearable. Personal taste trumps algorithmic approval every time.

Example: “After hearing about this perfume for years, I finally got a sample. Everyone said it was amazing, captivating, unique. What did I get? Sweet alcohol. I almost blind-bought it, and I’m so glad I didn’t.”

Perfume should be fun, personal, and guilt-free. It's not a competition, a weapon, or a checklist. Enjoy what you love, and leave the scoreboard at the door. Having 200 bottles doesn’t make your collection twice as good as someone’s 100. It just makes your storage situation worse. (Ask me how I know.)

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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.

Monday, October 20, 2025

Another Unpopular Opinion: Smell for Yourself

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Why I Test Perfume the Way I Do

I overheard a conversation recently that made me a little sad. The speakers were all knowledgeable, talented writers and content creators who, when testing a perfume for the first time, admitted that their first thought is usually, “How can I use this in my content?” before even considering whether they personally like the fragrance. One even said they rarely think, “Do I like it? Would I wear it?” The tone implied these questions were trite, or worse, slightly problematic.

Call me shallow, but when I test a new fragrance, “Do I like it?” is the first and most important thought in my head. Unless I’ve chosen to write about a perfume, which, 99% of the time, I already own, I don’t overthink it. I don’t analyze it, study the backstory, or marvel at how gorgeous the bottle would look on my bureau. I focus on the juice itself.

Buckets of Fragrance
Sure, I ask a few follow-up questions: What do I like about it? What don’t I like? Maybe I’ll think: If I don’t like it now, could I like it in the future? (Summer is rough on sweet gourmands. Sometimes they literally make me gag. But in December? Magic.) Then the fragrance lands in one of three buckets:

  • Like

  • Could Like

  • Hate, Get This Far Away From Me

Life’s Too Short
I’m turning 60 this year and have been seriously collecting fragrances for over 20 years. Life is too short to waste on challenging myself to like something just because it’s “classic” or trendy. I’m in this hobby for me.

And in my opinion, the only people who might reasonably challenge themselves are those who make or sell perfume for a living: perfumers and fragrance professionals. They benefit directly from the fragrances. Writers, bloggers, enthusiasts? Not so much.

The Humorous Side of Flowery Descriptions
Even when I do write about a fragrance, I rarely dive into its historical significance or the perfumer’s biography. That doesn't affect how I feel about a scent.

And I don’t indulge in flowery, over-the-top imagery like, “This fragrance smells like a young English woman in white lace, resting languorously in a hammock on vacation in Majorca.”
For someone like me who has never worn lace, never relaxed in a hammock, never been to a beach outside Ocean City, Maryland, that description means… what exactly? (Sweat and dead fish? Close enough.)

A Personal Hobby
Fragrance collecting and wearing is a personal hobby. It’s delightful if others like the same scents, fine if they don’t. But ultimately, I could not care less about other people’s opinions on what I wear.

What does matter is this: if someone is making a list of “Best Fragrances That Smell Like European Beaches,” shouldn’t they at least briefly consider whether they like the scent themselves? Otherwise, how is it “the best”? (We all know that’s just a way to project authority in a completely subjective space. Huge dislike.)

Smell First, Think Later
So yes, call me shallow. But in the world of fragrance, I smell first, think later. And I like it that way.

Because fragrance collecting is about what you love, not what everyone else tells you to.

Plain and Not-So-Plain Vanilla

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Vanilla is a real crowd-pleaser, both as a flavor and a fragrance. A study a few years ago even claimed the scent of vanilla was a major turn-on for men. Women love it too, so it’s no surprise that vanilla turns up in many, if not most, perfumes. It’s warm, grounding, and beautifully neutral. Vanilla can be sweet or dry, take center stage or linger quietly in the background.

Below are a few of my favorite (and not-so-favorite) explorations of vanilla in perfume.

BDK Parfums Vanilla Leather
Violet, Pink Pepper, Tuberose, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Vanilla, Orris, Leather, Benzoin, Oak, Patchouli
This is a lovely fragrance, but honestly, I don’t think there’s enough leather here to justify the name. Your mileage may vary, of course. On my skin, the floral notes, especially tuberose and jasmine, take the lead, slowly wrapped in a cloud of vanilla warmth. “Vanilla Tuberose” might’ve been a more accurate name, actually. It’s pretty, it’s soft, and that’s about it. Definitely tuberose, probably vanilla. The end.

Electimuss Vanilla Edesia
Bergamot, Mandarin, Bitter Almond, Heliotrope, Pink Pepper, Frankincense, Ceylon Cinnamon, Cumin, Coriander, Rose Centifolia Absolute, Gurjum Balsam, Ylang-Ylang, Creamy/Milky Notes, Vanilla Absolute, Patchouli, Cypriol, Haitian Vetiver, Sandalwood, Virginia Cedar, Amber Woods, White Musks
Vanilla Edesia is a challenging scent. It’s not gourmand at all, and it’s certainly not dominated by the vanilla in its name. Instead, it throws a lot at you—rose, citrus, cumin, coriander, pink pepper—all appearing in rapid succession. The rose and cumin linger, joined by an ashy, scratchy dryness I’m blaming on incense and woods. The result is a bit overwhelming, making it hard to find the vanilla here.

There’s a trace of warm sweetness (maybe that’s it?), but the cumin sticks around longest, thankfully without crossing into “dirty underpants” territory. It adds interest, if not comfort. I can’t decide if I like it… actually, no, I don’t. But it’s intriguing enough to include in a vanilla roundup. Worth a sniff, at least once.

Guerlain Spiritueuse Double Vanille
Incense, Pink Pepper, Bergamot, Cedar, Ylang-Ylang, Bulgarian Rose, Jasmine, Vanilla, Benzoin
This has long been my holy grail vanilla. It was love at first sniff during a breakfast presentation at Bergdorf’s one Sniffapalooza weekend. Back then, Guerlain’s L’Art et la Matière collection was pricey (~$200), but I had a generous perfume patron who’d just given me funds specifically for fragrance shopping.

For a while, SDV was the most expensive perfume I owned, and I babied it, decanting a few milliliters at a time into a travel spray so I wouldn’t risk breaking the bottle. I used maybe 30ml before tragedy struck: despite being stored properly, the box fell sideways, and about 98% of the remaining perfume leaked out. I didn’t even smell it at first, just found the bottle nearly empty and my heart utterly broken.

It’s $440 now (gulp), which is about $250 more than I’m willing to pay for a replacement. But oh, that scent… dark, rich, spicy, smoky, and sexy. Boozy and intoxicating. A vanilla for grown-ups. It's not shy, not sugary, just gloriously decadent.

Apparently it’s been reformulated, and newer reviews call it “plain vanilla” or “weak.” If true, that’s a damn shame. The original 2007 version was truly special. I haven’t dared revisit it (why torture myself with something I can’t afford?), but I’ll keep hoping the naysayers are just missing its magic.

Obvious Parfums Une Vanille
Tonka, Madagascar Vanilla, Musk
Some vanilla perfumes can be tooth-achingly sweet, but Une Vanille isn’t one of them. Like most of Obvious’s early scents, it’s quite linear. What you smell at first spray is what you get until it fades. On my skin, that’s until bath time.

It’s a lightly musky, powdery vanilla with a generous dose of tonka, warm and cozy but never cloying. It’s one of the few vanillas I can comfortably wear in warmer weather.

I also own Un Patchouli and Un Musc, and I’ll likely buy more from the brand. I love their ethics: minimal, eco-friendly packaging, recyclable glass, no unnecessary cellophane, and corks sourced from wine industry byproducts. Ostentatious packaging for no good reason drives me up the wall, and I’ll be ranting about that in an upcoming post.

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Posted by theminx on Minxstinks

Monday, September 22, 2025

What I've Been Wearing So Far in 2025: May through August

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I thought it would be fun (and a little nerdy) to keep track of what I’ve actually been wearing this year. Back in the first few months, I clocked 101 different scents (yes, really). For May through August, things calmed down a bit: just 65 perfumes made it onto my skin.

Some were one-offs or samples (31 of them, to be exact), but a handful of fragrances became steady companions. Two, in fact, I wore ten times each. That's like a long-term relationship for a promiscuous perfumista like me:
  • Liis Ethereal Wave--started as a humble sample, graduated to a decant, and finally earned its full-bottle crown.
  • 1907 Vanilla Dry--a real plot twist. I didn’t even like it when I first sniffed it last fall. But this spring? Instant love. It’s vanilla cushioned with coconut, though it never tips into “beachy cocktail.” To my nose it’s firmly vanilla, and somehow it never feels cloying, even in hot weather.
Other scents pulled me back again and again: Heeley Palm (nine times—watery, tropical, green, very coconut-forward), Byredo Gypsy Water (eight times—my most-worn of the year so far, with twelve total wears), and Escentric Molecules Molecule 01 + Mandarin (seven times, easy to wear solo but great for layering).

And because I like to rotate in some old favorites, I reached for Fresh Hesperides Grapefruit (six times, still such a loss that it’s discontinued) and Hermès Jardin Sur le Nil (four times—more love than it’s had in years).

This was also a season of new arrivals. Some snuck in under the wire from Europe before the de minimis exemption disappeared: Vanilla Dry, Palm, Trudon Bruma, and Miller et Bertaux Tulsivivah!. Closer to home, I picked up Molecule 01 + Mandarin, Memo Eau de Memo, Vibiskov Eau Nature Rouge, and Ellis Brooklyn Salt (not worn during the period of study, but worn 2x since).

Now that fall is easing into the mid-Atlantic, I’m still spritzing my summer darlings, but the cozy fragrances are calling. I’m curious to see which bottles I lean on as the weather shifts. Will I keep stretching summer, or finally dive into autumn? Either way, I’ll be counting.

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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.

Monday, September 15, 2025

Killer Sillage is Now Available!

I'm so excited! My first work of fiction, a cozy mystery titled Killer Sillage, is now available for purchase on Amazon! It's currently only available as a Kindle ebook, but in the coming months it will be released in paperback format and will be found at other online book shops as well.
Clare Buchowski wanted to be a perfumer when she grew up, but after an accident altered her sense of smell, she did the next best thing: open a perfume shop in her hometown of Baltimore. A death following the launch party for an independent perfumer's latest release has Clare following a trail of secrets, rivalries, and one unforgettable scent. In a city steeped in history and ambition, this fragrance left a killer scent trail, and Clare’s about to track it to the source.
Subscribe to my Substack: LaGue’s Clues, part behind-the-scenes, part fragrance chat. All New Subscribers will receive a FREE bonus origin story. You'll also find out when the next book in the series, Savage Gourmand, will be released.

Visit my new website: katlague.com, where all the book news will live.

And, of course, Killer Sillage

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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.

Monday, September 8, 2025

Rosy & Earnest

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Rosy & Earnest is a fragrance brand with a mission: to produce fine perfumes that are as luxurious and complex as traditional scents, but worry-free for your health. The founders started paying attention to ingredient lists and realized that the generic term “fragrance” could hide thousands of chemicals, some linked to hormone disruption, cancer risks, or environmental concerns. 

Determined to bring “cleaner” alternatives to the market, they partnered with an independent lab in France and the award-winning perfumer Nathalie Feistauer to create the first eaux de parfum ever to earn EWG certification in Canada, and the second in the US.

The brand also cares about sustainability, using recyclable, minimalist packaging, and donates 1% of profits to the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics.

Personally, I’m a bit skeptical of EWG—they sometimes overstate risks—but I love that Rosy & Earnest is thoughtful about ingredients. IFRA already does a good job regulating allergens, so this isn’t about shaming anyone for their choices. It’s about offering an option for those who want it.

Be Rosy
Clementine, Pear, Carrot, Bergamot, Lemon, Blackberry, Black Tea CO2, Orris Butter, Rose, Osmanthus, Ambrox, Cedar, Musk
The pear in the opening is photorealistic, sparkling and joyful. Light, musky, and happy—like a glass of champagne with a slight sweet lift. The black tea adds a gentle smokiness that keeps it from being one-dimensional. Truly uplifting and perfect for a sunny morning.

Be Earnest
Rhubarb, Apple, Hedione, Balsam Fir, Virginia Cedar, Amyris, Musk
The opening is like biting into a tart Granny Smith apple in an herb garden. Realistic, green, and effervescent. Tomato leaves? Basil? Though they're not listed, I smell them or a similar greenness. The woody notes ground the scent beautifully, and the musky drydown adds a creamy, wearable lift. A scent that works all year round—one I bought a full bottle of immediately.

Pistachio Delight
Bergamot, Pink Berries, Roasted Pistachio Chips, Pistacia Lentiscus Oil, Intense Woods, Vanilla, Gourmand Notes, Musk
Bergamot and berries shine at first, and the roasted pistachio is delightful—but the gourmand and woody accords quickly take over. Too much is happening for me; the original nutty charm gets lost in the pastry-like sweetness. Still, your mileage may vary.

Vanilla Rum Royal
Bergamot, Pink Pepper, White Wine Lees, Rum CO2 extract, Oak, Sugar Cane, Vanilla, Labdanum, Musk
Opening is crazy sweet, a mix of vanilla and rum with a dollop of plastic-y weirdness. The rum is surprisingly weak, so it never really becomes a boozy vanilla. It’s certainly different from the more familiar vanilla fragrances, but it's not one I’d reach for.

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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.

Tuesday, September 2, 2025

Confession: I’m Not a Rose Person… Or Am I?

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I’m going to come right out and say it: I am not a fan of rose-based perfumes.

But here’s the twist: I have owned, worn, and genuinely enjoyed rose-based perfumes. So, what gives? It turns out, it’s all about the amount of rose, the type of rose, and what it’s paired with. And really, the same can be said for my favorite notes like sandalwood, vanilla, and iris: too much or the wrong blend, and it can veer from cozy to overwhelming.

Many of the roses in my collection are unapologetically upfront. They dominate the fragrance from the first spritz to the lingering drydown. But when a rose is balanced, say, with peony, vanilla, musk, or amber, it becomes something truly magical.

Take two of my current favorites: Hayley Kiyoko Hue and ELDO Eau de Protection. Both are rose fragrances I love. Hue pairs rose with peony and musk, creating a soft, playful floral. Eau de Protection takes a different approach: no peony, no musk, just a whole lot of patchouli. And somehow, it works beautifully.

Then there’s the brighter, sunshiny side of rose. Stella McCartney (the eponymous fragrance) is full of citrus, peony, and amber. Gorgeous, uplifting, and sadly discontinued. Bond No. 9 West Side follows a similar formula, peony and amber with a hint of vanilla instead of citrus—warm, sexy, slightly sweet, and a touch too loud, but still a favorite. And Giorgio Armani’s Onde Mystere? A rose that leans into vanilla, amber, and incense, creating a mysterious, smoky floral that I miss dearly.

Other roses I adore:

  • Les Parfums de Rosine Viva La Mariée – Neroli, litchi, bergamot, rose, peony, jasmine sambac, magnolia, orange blossom, peach, freesia, vanilla, praline, tonka bean, cedar, musk, sandalwood, patchouli. A complex, whimsical floral that never overstays its welcome. Though the rose has a lot of company in this scent, it is still unmistakably a rose fragrance.

  • Ormonde Jayne Ta’if – Pink pepper, saffron, dates, Taif rose, freesia, jasmine, orange blossom, amber, broom. A spicy, elegant rose that feels both modern and timeless, with a generous dose of the company's lovely OrmondeJayne-enade.

  • Penhaligon’s Elisabethan Rose – Hazelnut, tangerine, almond, cinnamon, May rose, rose oil, black currant, geranium, red lily, plum, musk, woody notes, violet, vetiver, orris root. A beautiful soft rose that has no rough edges.

  • Penhaligon's Luna – Lemon, bergamot, bitter orange, rose, juniper berries, jasmine, balsam fir, musk, ambergris. A crisp, green rose that flirts with the forest more than the garden.

  • Tokyo Milk Parfumerie Curiositie Gin & Rosewater – Citrus, mimosa, mandarin orange, rosewood. I still don’t understand how this evokes gin and rosewater at the same time, but somehow it does, and I love it. Truly an alchemical miracle.

So, maybe I’m not strictly anti-rose after all. Maybe I’m just a rose snob. Or maybe, like so many fragrances, it’s all about the blend, and knowing when a rose is allowed to shine and when it needs a little company.

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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.

Monday, August 25, 2025

Perfume Math, But Make It Cute

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Sometimes I feel a little guilty about buying perfume. (Okay, more than a little. At this point, I own enough bottles to scent several lifetimes.) But here’s the thing: my tastes have shifted over the years. Fragrances I once swooned over now sit gathering dust. And that’s not a moral failing, it’s just life with perfume.

The good news? I don’t have to drown in a sea of neglected bottles. Last year I had a revelation: eBay.

Turns out, plenty of people are thrilled to take my unloved scents off my hands. Even partial bottles! Since I baby my perfumes by storing them in their boxes in a dark, cool space, they’re usually in excellent shape. Before listing anything, I spritz-test to make sure it hasn’t gone off. (The sting of receiving a ruined bottle is real. Looking at you, GAP Om, which turned into swamp water. And yes, original Victoria from Victoria’s Secret, you’re on that list too.)

Some of my no-longer-worn perfumes have been discontinued, which means they’re suddenly hot commodities. And yes, that translates into more cash, which makes the letting-go process surprisingly painless.

Over the past year, I’ve listed about twenty bottles and made thousands of dollars. That money has almost entirely funded my new perfume habit. Case in point: since May 1st, 2025, I’ve picked up nine beauties: 1907 Vanilla Dry, Heeley Palm, Trudon Bruma, Liis Ethereal Wave, Vibiskov L’eau Rouge Nature, Molecule 01 + Mandarin, Miller et Bertaux Tulsivivah, Memo Eau de Memo, and a travel spray of Ellis Brooklyn Salt. Retail value? $1,656. What I actually paid? $1,235.

And because my eBay sales during that same stretch totaled $1,243, I technically came out $8 ahead.

Yes, I am officially justifying my perfume habit with math. And I’m not even sorry.

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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.

Monday, August 11, 2025

How I Accidentally Wrote a Cozy Mystery (and Loved Every Minute)


Some people impulse-buy shoes; I impulse-wrote a murder.

In early June, I got a bee in my bonnet and decided out of nowhere to write a cozy mystery. And it just…poured out of me. Like it had been bottled up forever, even though I’d never really given fiction much thought before. That’s my husband’s department. Fiction is his thing.

I guess I wanted a change. A challenge. And, well, I found one. Turns out, it was fun. The kind of fun that makes you want to do it again and again. And so, without further ado, I present my first work of fiction: Killer Sillage. And as you may have inferred from the title, perfume is involved. In fact, the lead character, Clare, owns a perfume shop in her (and my) hometown of Baltimore, Maryland.

What I didn’t realize—rookie mistake—is that after you finish writing a book, there’s a lot of other stuff to do. I’ve written three other books with my husband, Neal (aka Mr. Minx), all non-fiction and food-related. They were professionally published, so even though Globe Pequot was hardly a marketing powerhouse, at least they handled things like getting the books into stores.

Self-publishing? Whole different animal. Suddenly, I’m not just the writer, I’m the editor, formatter, cover designer, production manager, and distribution department. Right now, Killer Sillage will launch as a Kindle ebook, but once I get my act together, there will be a paperback version and wider availability.

Oh, and apparently I also need a mailing list and a website. So, in true “let’s-build-the-plane-while-flying-it” fashion, I’ve started both: a Substack for my pen name, Kat LaGue, and a brand-new website.

If you’d like to follow along as I launch Killer Sillage into the world (and get sneak peeks at my next cozy mystery), you can: 

Subscribe to my Substack: LaGue’s Clues, part behind-the-scenes, part fragrance chat. All New Subscribers will receive a FREE bonus origin story. 

Visit my new website: katlague.com, where all the book news will live.

And, of course, pre-order Killer Sillage

Come for the murder, stay for the perfume.

P.S. If you know anyone who loves cozy mysteries, perfume, or just a good story with a twist, please send them my way! Sharing this post is the best way to help a new author like me find her readers. Thanks a million!

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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.

Monday, June 30, 2025

Fragrance Discounters

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I have always hated paying retail prices--especially with my own money--whether it be for clothes, shoes, most things. Especially for perfume. I loooove perfume. I have a lot of it and always want something new. But I can't be tossing hundreds of dollars around just to feed my habit, so I either rely on sales or on discounters. And if I have to pay full retail, I try to use a gift card earned from credit card points to cover at least part of the cost. 

As I reside in the US, I can only confirm the reliability of the companies that are based here and with which I have experience; those are marked with an asterisk (*). I have received recommendations, however, from folks outside the States who have made successful purchases from fragrance discounters in the UK, EU, and Canada. 

I will endeavor to update this list when I find new places to add. It will eventually become a page, linked on the left sidebar. <-------- If you have any additions for the list, please leave a comment and I'll add it.

US


Beautyhouse.com sells a little bit of everything--designer, niche, and celebrity scents. They also have a decent selection of Arabian fragrances.

*Fragrancenet is my favorite discounter; I've made dozens of purchases from them, all of which arrived quickly and safely. They stock the gamut, from cheapie celebrity scents to expensive niche brands I've never heard of. They sell testers and purse spray decants as well as full bottles, plus beauty products and cosmetics. I discovered Monotheme Venezia's great and inexpensive fragrances on Fragrancenet, and I've purchased most of the ten Serge Lutens frags in my collection from them. It's a good place for blind buys in that they have so many choices. It's a bad place for blind buys in that they have so many choices. PRO TIP: their catalog of niche brands is listed under the "gifts" header. They're in random order, unfortunately, but you can always select a brand to see all the fragrances from that brand that they generally have in stock. Also, some niche frags aren't actually discounted. Essential Parfums, for example, are more expensive on Fragrancenet. 

*Fragrancex is practically identical to Perfume.com. They send out similar sale emails on the same day, and carry a lot of the same brands. They have a single page directory of the brands they carry, which is great when you're in the mood for a blind buy and have a company in mind. 

*Jomashop is like a high-end discount department store. They have clothes, shoes, sunglasses, jewelry, and watches from brands like Burberry, Cartier, Tag Heuer, Ferragamo, and more. And perfume. They have lots of brands, both inexpensive and high end. Shipping took a bit longer than I'm used to, but my purchase arrived securely packed. (I bought the normally $300 100ml bottle of D.S. & Durga Pistachio on sale for $125.)

*Perfume.com is practically identical to FragranceX. They have a vast inventory of goods at great prices, and they have a single page directory of all the brands they carry. One problem with Perfume.com is that fragrances I want might be listed, but they are usually out of stock. 

Venba sells a limited selection of popular expensive designer and niche brands like Creed, Amouage, Parfums de Marly, Nishane, Maison Crivelli. While prices are still quite high, they are definitely lower than full retail. 




UK & EU







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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.