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Dark, brooding rose
I hardly expected to find love on the tube in London...but my heart missed a beat!
The tube is a good place to encounter smells, but usually they are not the pleasant kind....this time I got lucky! A striking, long-limbed, beautiful black woman was sitting not far from me. She was captivatingly beautiful in an androgenous, artsy, Shoreditch way.
I was deep in conversation with my boyfriend when my head snapped round, my nose on full twitch... a stunning deep, treacly, oud rose with a woodsy twist filled my nostrils. The dark bottle she was holding was unmistakably Tom Ford.....but which??!! Poor girl. I hope I didn't come across as too much of a perfume psycho.
I received a beautiful bottle of Noir de Noir this birthday - some love from my love. To me this is a scent of real, deep love. Not first love or infatuation, not maternal love, nor passionate love, but intense, romantic love. Beautiful. Timeless.
The scent is blended to perfection & smells like liquid gold pouring over molten woods & love letters scattered with the darkest of rose petals. The oud is present, but not over-powering & the deep, ambery sweetness is tempered by some patch-love & an earthy herbal twist. I am an oriental-lover & chypres can sometimes turn my stomach, but when they are done well I tend to adore them. Noir is mixed perfectly.
Great sillage & lasting power - but not to the point of vulgarity. Just enough evolution & interest to keep you on your toes but not so much as to be loud, unclassy or confused. Inky black with a touch of scarlet, flecked with gold leaf. “The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.”
A dark beauty & a real heart-stealer.
The tube is a good place to encounter smells, but usually they are not the pleasant kind....this time I got lucky! A striking, long-limbed, beautiful black woman was sitting not far from me. She was captivatingly beautiful in an androgenous, artsy, Shoreditch way.
I was deep in conversation with my boyfriend when my head snapped round, my nose on full twitch... a stunning deep, treacly, oud rose with a woodsy twist filled my nostrils. The dark bottle she was holding was unmistakably Tom Ford.....but which??!! Poor girl. I hope I didn't come across as too much of a perfume psycho.
I received a beautiful bottle of Noir de Noir this birthday - some love from my love. To me this is a scent of real, deep love. Not first love or infatuation, not maternal love, nor passionate love, but intense, romantic love. Beautiful. Timeless.
The scent is blended to perfection & smells like liquid gold pouring over molten woods & love letters scattered with the darkest of rose petals. The oud is present, but not over-powering & the deep, ambery sweetness is tempered by some patch-love & an earthy herbal twist. I am an oriental-lover & chypres can sometimes turn my stomach, but when they are done well I tend to adore them. Noir is mixed perfectly.
Great sillage & lasting power - but not to the point of vulgarity. Just enough evolution & interest to keep you on your toes but not so much as to be loud, unclassy or confused. Inky black with a touch of scarlet, flecked with gold leaf. “The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.”
A dark beauty & a real heart-stealer.
3 Comments
berry battle in a bottle
I guess throwing in the word "enchanted" entitles your forest to smell any darn way you want it to - but I could find no woodsy magic spells to hypnotise this nose.
The opening is very tricky. I love cats but I do not want to be mistaken for the mad lady with 37 pusses who smells of cat-wee. Grapefruit has often been a cat-wee culprit for me, but here it must be the mix of aldehydes, blackcurrent leaf & citrus peel. It's a car-crash on my wrist - I don't want to but I keep going back for another sniff "just to be sure"...ooof!
Luckily, the scent swiftly skips on to a more mainstream vibe: juicy, fruity, boozy, blackcurrent. Ribena, blackcurrent sours, cassis, boiled sweets - put them in a vat & mix them up to make a sour & syrupy tipple. I can't say I find it very classy but at least it is unapologetic in its stance (think snakebite-&-black rather than kir-royale). The projection at this point is bold, to say the least, so your friends may think you have a creme-de-cassis habit.
Half an hour in & the patient perfumista will be rewarded with the best phase of this scent. Gone is the cat-wee. The cocktail has been diluted. Enter a rich & thick powder. Like a fog it creeps over pond water, pine needles & moss & adds a warmth to the increasingly boozey-bitter scent. I'm not a fan of fruity scents but this part is very pleasant - well-mannered & a little intriguing.
Then in a puff it is gone! A trace of powder on pine, a stain of the sticky liqueur, sweet & soft.
I'm left confused. Who is this scent aimed at? The picky-perfumistas or the pound-payers? Too adult & tricky to be mainstream or teen. Too pleasant & not tricky enough to intrigue a more seasoned nose. It seems too much of a compromise to deliver the punch I had hoped. Yes, it is an ode to blackcurrent - but a sanitised, Disney plant. Where is the earth falling from this enchanted plant? The dark woods? The decaying leaves? The mists, magic & mystery?
Billed as an ode to blackcurrent - if you adore the plant & berry you may well adore this rich & fruity autumn gem. Alas. The concept was good, but, for me, the delivery fell a little short of the mark.
The opening is very tricky. I love cats but I do not want to be mistaken for the mad lady with 37 pusses who smells of cat-wee. Grapefruit has often been a cat-wee culprit for me, but here it must be the mix of aldehydes, blackcurrent leaf & citrus peel. It's a car-crash on my wrist - I don't want to but I keep going back for another sniff "just to be sure"...ooof!
Luckily, the scent swiftly skips on to a more mainstream vibe: juicy, fruity, boozy, blackcurrent. Ribena, blackcurrent sours, cassis, boiled sweets - put them in a vat & mix them up to make a sour & syrupy tipple. I can't say I find it very classy but at least it is unapologetic in its stance (think snakebite-&-black rather than kir-royale). The projection at this point is bold, to say the least, so your friends may think you have a creme-de-cassis habit.
Half an hour in & the patient perfumista will be rewarded with the best phase of this scent. Gone is the cat-wee. The cocktail has been diluted. Enter a rich & thick powder. Like a fog it creeps over pond water, pine needles & moss & adds a warmth to the increasingly boozey-bitter scent. I'm not a fan of fruity scents but this part is very pleasant - well-mannered & a little intriguing.
Then in a puff it is gone! A trace of powder on pine, a stain of the sticky liqueur, sweet & soft.
I'm left confused. Who is this scent aimed at? The picky-perfumistas or the pound-payers? Too adult & tricky to be mainstream or teen. Too pleasant & not tricky enough to intrigue a more seasoned nose. It seems too much of a compromise to deliver the punch I had hoped. Yes, it is an ode to blackcurrent - but a sanitised, Disney plant. Where is the earth falling from this enchanted plant? The dark woods? The decaying leaves? The mists, magic & mystery?
Billed as an ode to blackcurrent - if you adore the plant & berry you may well adore this rich & fruity autumn gem. Alas. The concept was good, but, for me, the delivery fell a little short of the mark.
1 Comment
A raunchy wood-fest in an indian restaurant
What a strange beast of a fragrance...with a little latent beauty.
The bottle is wonderful. The scent is intriguing, strange, savoury & at some points difficult, stomach-churning & disturbing. Overall, I like it. I respect it for its unusual, uncompromising & artistic take but I feel sure I could never comfortably wear it.
I find the start a little tricky. It is suprisingly sensual for a perfume that is all about the bitter spice - perhaps even verging on "dirty". I have never before tried a perfume that starts out so completely like an indian dish. Warm, citrus, vegetal, & heavily dosed with dry, unsalted spices....& then the HUGE cumin monster eneters. I can actually taste the bitter perfumed food in my mouth if I sniff too hard. There is also plenty of timber to be found. Combine this with a dank, metallic-blood note it is a veritable wood-fest. Warmth, depth, dry cumin...cloaks & daggers, midnight chimes, the witching hour & lascivious looks. This part is slightly uncomfy for this innocent wearer.
Luckily, as Kingdom settles the ride gets easier - it mellows & warms, the sillage increases & the cumin reaches a more wearable level. I get a nice amount of dusty old roses & jasmine with a thick, cosy feel. There is a masculine soapy note that gives Kingdom an old fashioned regal appeal - like walking into a wood-panelled room filled with hand-bound books, old leather chairs, dusty persian rugs, shaveing cream & bristle brush standing next to a wash stand & bowl. Odd, but classic.
I never got the body odour whiff that others declared - although it did go through a stage of harsh soap & stale indian restaurant curtains that was deeply unappealing. On my skin it developed a bit of 'ash-tray' in the dry-down, but I never found it to be a complete scrubber.
Wear this to stand out without resorting to glam, glitz, glitter or shock tactics. It is completely sexless (male, female & anyone inbetween could wear it if they possess the right attitude) & yet Kingdom is rather full of sexual innuendo & a taint of the night before.
WARNING: Cumin-haters - run fast & keep running. It's coming to get you!
The bottle is wonderful. The scent is intriguing, strange, savoury & at some points difficult, stomach-churning & disturbing. Overall, I like it. I respect it for its unusual, uncompromising & artistic take but I feel sure I could never comfortably wear it.
I find the start a little tricky. It is suprisingly sensual for a perfume that is all about the bitter spice - perhaps even verging on "dirty". I have never before tried a perfume that starts out so completely like an indian dish. Warm, citrus, vegetal, & heavily dosed with dry, unsalted spices....& then the HUGE cumin monster eneters. I can actually taste the bitter perfumed food in my mouth if I sniff too hard. There is also plenty of timber to be found. Combine this with a dank, metallic-blood note it is a veritable wood-fest. Warmth, depth, dry cumin...cloaks & daggers, midnight chimes, the witching hour & lascivious looks. This part is slightly uncomfy for this innocent wearer.
Luckily, as Kingdom settles the ride gets easier - it mellows & warms, the sillage increases & the cumin reaches a more wearable level. I get a nice amount of dusty old roses & jasmine with a thick, cosy feel. There is a masculine soapy note that gives Kingdom an old fashioned regal appeal - like walking into a wood-panelled room filled with hand-bound books, old leather chairs, dusty persian rugs, shaveing cream & bristle brush standing next to a wash stand & bowl. Odd, but classic.
I never got the body odour whiff that others declared - although it did go through a stage of harsh soap & stale indian restaurant curtains that was deeply unappealing. On my skin it developed a bit of 'ash-tray' in the dry-down, but I never found it to be a complete scrubber.
Wear this to stand out without resorting to glam, glitz, glitter or shock tactics. It is completely sexless (male, female & anyone inbetween could wear it if they possess the right attitude) & yet Kingdom is rather full of sexual innuendo & a taint of the night before.
WARNING: Cumin-haters - run fast & keep running. It's coming to get you!
3 Comments
Would you like some jasmine on your toast?
Borderline schizophrenic.
Where to start....
My boy-cat had smelly paws. They didn't smell cheesey or dirty, & they weren't even unpleasant to sniff, per se. I would often awake to find a large, black pad hovering above my lips, trying to steal my breath. My velvet theif had feet that smelt of clean, dusty fur, dry, pale biscuits, aga-toasted breadcrumbs & aged candle-wax. My feline friend also had a penchant for padding across window cills & shelves, knocking treasures onto the floor with his furry plus-fours & fancy tail, much to my chagrin.
On first sniff, Miroir des Envies is a black cat, sat alone licking its paws in a beautiful french renaissance bedroom. The room is ransacked, the Duchess lies dead. Confusion reigns around the little furry island of calm. What? Why? How?
The mirror tells a tale...pad, pad, pad. Smash! A bowl of toasted, sugared hazelnuts & almonds shatters. Bang! A tea tray of brown toast spread with honeycomb hits the floor. Crash! The jasmine plant is upended & the waxy buds scatter. Thud! A full bottle of Alien parfum falls heavily onto the sleeping beauty's head. Pad, pad, pad...
M des E is a twisted little scent dressed up as sweetness & light. It has many facets & yet it does not give up its secrets easily. No matter how much you may love & hate it (& you will, with equal measure) you will be compelled to keep sniffing, searching for its breadcrumb trails as it pads across your skin.
For me, it is not a scent I would comfortably wear even though I like loud, oddball perfumes....& yet I keep re-visiting my sample. I simply can't keep my paws off it.
M des E = Mad as a bag of cats - one to sample for curiosity & kicks.
Where to start....
My boy-cat had smelly paws. They didn't smell cheesey or dirty, & they weren't even unpleasant to sniff, per se. I would often awake to find a large, black pad hovering above my lips, trying to steal my breath. My velvet theif had feet that smelt of clean, dusty fur, dry, pale biscuits, aga-toasted breadcrumbs & aged candle-wax. My feline friend also had a penchant for padding across window cills & shelves, knocking treasures onto the floor with his furry plus-fours & fancy tail, much to my chagrin.
On first sniff, Miroir des Envies is a black cat, sat alone licking its paws in a beautiful french renaissance bedroom. The room is ransacked, the Duchess lies dead. Confusion reigns around the little furry island of calm. What? Why? How?
The mirror tells a tale...pad, pad, pad. Smash! A bowl of toasted, sugared hazelnuts & almonds shatters. Bang! A tea tray of brown toast spread with honeycomb hits the floor. Crash! The jasmine plant is upended & the waxy buds scatter. Thud! A full bottle of Alien parfum falls heavily onto the sleeping beauty's head. Pad, pad, pad...
M des E is a twisted little scent dressed up as sweetness & light. It has many facets & yet it does not give up its secrets easily. No matter how much you may love & hate it (& you will, with equal measure) you will be compelled to keep sniffing, searching for its breadcrumb trails as it pads across your skin.
For me, it is not a scent I would comfortably wear even though I like loud, oddball perfumes....& yet I keep re-visiting my sample. I simply can't keep my paws off it.
M des E = Mad as a bag of cats - one to sample for curiosity & kicks.
Nearly, but not quite. Watery ghost of a rose.
A young, innocent, fresh & fruity modern take on rose......that almost delivers.
In the garden, the rose bud opens as the summer morning begins. A young "English Rose" skips down the garden, barefoot, tresses tumbling around her shoulders. She stoops to sniff the rose...& then her boiled-sweet-sucking breath swamps the poor flower with sticky candy warmth. Her sticky mitts grab the bloom & pull it rudely from the plant, petals scattering onto the lawn. She tuts & discards the ruined rose, picks up her plastic mug of juice & skips up back to the house. Modern is not necessarily better.
The opener is a pale pink rose bud, refreshed by bergamot & drenched not in sparkling morning dew but dripping with the nectar from a ripe, juicy tangerine & a touch of bitter pulp. As the scent warms to the skin it becomes sweeter, more fruity, a little fizzy. The lasting power is average & the sillage polite. The drydown is a clean, sweet musk.
I can't help but wish for a fresher & more rosey version of Rose Fraiche - more sap & stem & musty earth! As much as I adore Rose Absolu for its sticky, jammy rose I can't help but think this Earl-grey-tea-meets-rose-scented-orange-squash needs a few thorns to awaken the senses & raise it above the average young rose frag.
Nice. Pretty. Sweet. Not innocent enough - I still search for my rosey summer-stunner.
In the garden, the rose bud opens as the summer morning begins. A young "English Rose" skips down the garden, barefoot, tresses tumbling around her shoulders. She stoops to sniff the rose...& then her boiled-sweet-sucking breath swamps the poor flower with sticky candy warmth. Her sticky mitts grab the bloom & pull it rudely from the plant, petals scattering onto the lawn. She tuts & discards the ruined rose, picks up her plastic mug of juice & skips up back to the house. Modern is not necessarily better.
The opener is a pale pink rose bud, refreshed by bergamot & drenched not in sparkling morning dew but dripping with the nectar from a ripe, juicy tangerine & a touch of bitter pulp. As the scent warms to the skin it becomes sweeter, more fruity, a little fizzy. The lasting power is average & the sillage polite. The drydown is a clean, sweet musk.
I can't help but wish for a fresher & more rosey version of Rose Fraiche - more sap & stem & musty earth! As much as I adore Rose Absolu for its sticky, jammy rose I can't help but think this Earl-grey-tea-meets-rose-scented-orange-squash needs a few thorns to awaken the senses & raise it above the average young rose frag.
Nice. Pretty. Sweet. Not innocent enough - I still search for my rosey summer-stunner.
