Sherapop

Let us begin by setting the record straight regarding the question of cloves in Lorenzo Villoresi GAROFANO. Luca's rib must have mixed up her samples of Caron BELLODGIA and Lorenzo Villoresi GAROFANO, which she decries as unwearable and clove heavy. Carnation contains naturally occurring eugenol, but as far I can tell, there is not extra clove note in GAROFANO, as there certainly is in BELLODGIA.

GAROFANO is my first foray into the house of Lorenzo Villoresi derisively dismissed in The Holey[sic] Book, along with the perfumes of Mona di Orio, as essentially a product of perfumic fraud. (Talk about the pot calling the kettle black...)

I had to see why in the world an entire set of haute niche perfumes should receive ratings on a par with those conferred upon the offerings of the illustrious "house" of Paris Hilton, so to satisfy my curiosity, I ordered several house-carded samples. I have discovered that a grave injustice was done to this house, along with Mona di Orio, I might add, and my best guess is that the reviewers have serious issues with expensive Italian perfumes. Perhaps there is some sort of family vendetta which goes back centuries? Who knows? All I know for sure is that these perfumes are rich elixirs which merit the discerning perfumista's consideration.

GAROFANO opens bitterly, and this may put some sniffers off. Added to the fact that the carnation is not rose or jasmine or iris or violet or any of the other more popular flowers featured in perfumes, and one may conclude upon application that this creation is "not for me". In fact, as the perfume develops, it becomes more and more enticing. This is not a "buy at the counter" or "review from a paper strip" perfume. GAROFANO requires a bit of patience in order to reap the beauty found within. By the drydown, I'm definitely a believer. Carnation perfumes are few and far between, and this one is a slightly woody and utterly gorgeous soliflore with big sillage and excellent longevity. GAROFANO is embellished with several other notes, none of which is clove, to which I am inordinately sensitive, and which makes BELLODGIA a tough wear for me.

If I did not already own Guerlain TERRACOTTA VOILE D'ETE, also a fine carnation creation, I might consider adding this one to my collection.

Soap and Paper Factory all-natural fragrances and body products were a discovery which I made at Anthropologie. This particular eau de parfum, TUBEROSE, offers equal doses of strong tuberose and indolic jasmine. This is serious flower power, especially since it's all natural.

The jasmine in this composition smells like a cross between Creed JASMAL and Lush LUST, so despite the fact that Soap and Paper Factory is a decidedly budget-niche operation (a 100ml bottle costs $32 at MSRP!), there is some serious jasmine in this bottle. Despite the name, it's not really a tuberose soliflore, I've finally decided--although I must confess that it hits me in different ways on different days. Today, this is a duoflore: tuberose + jasmine!

If you dislike either tuberose or jasmine, you'll hate this because it's basically tuberose and jasmine cubed! Watch out--there's a real danger of white flower headache from this potent potion! (Again: think Lush LUST...) The good news is that because TUBEROSE (AND JASMINE!) is both strong and economical, it would make a great addition to a bath or as a mixer with plain lotion or wherever flowers seem to be deficient. TUBEROSE could be added to any number of no- or low-flower compositions to make them more complex--and floral! It's also nice to wear all alone, provided that it is sparingly applied.

I am confused by Phaedon PLUIE DE SOLEIL, and if the provenance of my sample were not the dependable Guusjes, I'd suspect a decanting error. Why? Because this perfume is to my nose an average fruity-floral composition of the Coty Prestige kind. This could easily have been the juice inside one of the GMO-modified insect bottles from Marc Jacobs.

I confess to not being fond of pineapple and strawberry as perfume notes, and my understanding is that fruits are always synthetically mimicked, which implies that any creation this fruity is bound to have a synthetic cast. I'm sure that PLUIE DE SOLEIL would work for anyone who enjoys wearing mainstream designer fruit-heavy abstract fragrances. But why pay niche prices for this? Abstract freesia? Canned fruits in light syrup?

Needless to say: not for me.

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January 19, 2015 update: I found another vial of this fragrance while moving. My opinion has not improved in the least. Could just as well be a Marc Jacobs flanker in a garish bottle. Désolée.

I am tossing the rest of this vial--a rarity, I assure you...

FLEUR DE BAMBU is my first foray into the offerings of the house of Il Profvmo, which I have often wondered about but somehow never encountered. Guusjes was kind enough to send me a generous sample of this perfume, which I have now tested a couple of different times.

Initially I thought that I did not like FLEUR DE BAMBU, because it seems somewhat aquatic and therefore not really my kind of thing. However, after a couple tries, I have decided that this composition really is quite nice for what it is. Believe it or not, this creation evokes memories in my mind of rural Japan. The wet, glistening grass of rice paddies is the precise image before my mind's eye. The scent is both green and wet, so it's more like grass after a rain. Or rice paddies in rural Japan!

I'm not sure what bamboo is supposed to smell like, although I've certainly smelled bamboo sprouts while preparing or eating various kinds of cuisine. The watery, greenish quality of this perfume seems to match the pale yellowish-green of bamboo sprouts. There is also a watery floral facet to this perfume--probably the water lily and lotus listed among the notes.

Overall, this is still more aquatic than green to my nose, but it smells calm and serene rather than aggressive and angst-ridden, which is my typical reaction to calone-heavy aquatic fragrances. Probably if I overapplied FLEUR DE BAMBU, I'd experience those feelings again, but sparingly applied this is an appealing atmospheric scent.

For some reason peony perfumes do not usually sit well with me. A couple of them I swapped away to get them out of my house because they were impossible to wear. My problem is not the scent of peony, which strikes me as perfectly innocuous, if not very exciting. My peony problem involves whatever is used to mimic the scent of peony in the vast majority of mainstream peony perfumes.

Given my checkered peony past, I was happy to discover that C.O. Bigelow WINTER PETAL NO 1315 is a perfectly pleasant peony perfume, and entirely wearable by me. The bad news is that it has been discontinued! The good news is that the bottle in my collection will serve all of my peony needs for the foreseeable future, since peony is not my favorite floral scent. This composition is light and fuzzy with only a touch of fruitiness, so I'd call it a true peony soliflore, rather than a fruity-floral fragrance, which has been most often the case with the peony compositions I've encountered before. It may be that freesia is contributing to the fuzziness, but mainly this smells like peony to me.

I'm not sure why WINTER PETALS is called "winter" petals. The peony seems like a perfect springtime flower, and while this perfume is certainly wearable year round, it lacks the sort of richness and complexity which I tend to favor during wintertime. All in all, it's a perfect all-occasion fragrance for donning before dashing out the door to the library--or anywhere--without having to worry whether it may offend anyone in my environs. WINTER PETALS is an excellent example of the office-ready inoffensive fruity-floral frag--except that this one has less fruit than most and is perfectly wearable by me.