Every so often, and not as often as I would like, I order a small batch of perfume samples, usually via Lucky Scent. Today, we have new perfume samples.
The wonderful thing about loving smells in general is that it opens up whole vistas of what might be interesting notes in a perfume. Therefore, a perfume with notes like ozone, soil, dandelion, and rice sounds like it might actually be a good idea. Sometimes the idea is interesting in theory, but not in practice. Sometimes it is interesting, but not nice. Sometimes it would be nice on someone else. And sometimes, it’s exactly what you hoped it was, or even better.
With the expanded palette of possible notes found in niche perfumes, one can come up with a perfume that evokes almost anything. And yes, that means anything (“Secretions Magnifiques” immediately comes to mind, and maybe…maybe you should look up reviews on that one before you order it, OK?) We live in a wondrous time where acquiring and ordering stuff is so much easier than it ever has been, and where the creation of these scents is so much easier as well. O brave new world, that has such perfumes in ‘t.
Thing about niche perfumes is that you can try things, random things, little perfume works of art, and sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t, but it’s usually interesting. And sometimes you find something YOU MUST OWN A BOTTLE OF. Unfortunately, many niche fragrances are more expensive, for a myriad of reasons (mostly to do with ingredients, believe it.) Nothing like falling in love with a scent that costs roughly as much as your grocery budget for the month. At which point you may seriously be considering how much you really need to eat, because you can feast your nose on delicious, delicious scents. I’m looking right at you, Fort and Manlé’s Charlatan, you beautiful rose-chocolate-pear-truffle and rather dear vixen, you.
Moving right along…I have a nice wee batch here, which I’m going to test. Here’s the list, with notes. The house is in parentheses:
Salt Caramel (Shay & Blue): caramel, sea salt, tonka bean, sandalwood
Atropa Belladonna (Shay & Blue): Blackcurrant, narcissus, jasmine, patchouli, bourbon vanilla
Sundrunk (Imaginary Authors): Neroli, rhubarb, honeysuckle, rose water, orange zest, first kiss
My Own Private Teahupo’o (A Lab On Fire): Sea salt, ozone, frangipani, salicylates, Tahitian vanilla bean, Amber Xtreme
Eau My Soul (4160 Tuesdays): Bergamot, lavender, honey, frankincense, cognac, sandalwood, rose, jasmine, orris, myrrh, tobacco, amber, oakmoss, vanilla, benzoin, musk, patchouli, vetiver
Kasbah (19-69): Sweet Orange, Lime, White Honey, Geranium, Amber, Patchouli, Vanilla, Tonka Beans, Guaiac Wood, Leather Accord, Sandalwood
And three chosen by the seller, so these were a surprise:
Fleurs de Citronnier (Serge Lutens): Lemon blossom, neroli, tuberose, musk
Functional Fragrance (The Nue Company): Green cardamom, iris, cilantro, palo santo
Lust In Paradise (Ex Nihilo): Pink pepper, white peony, lychee, white cedar, musk, amber
First, a note about my own tastes and idiosyncrasies: I really love gourmands. I don’t care who judges me on that, either. When I mentioned rice as a note up there, I wasn’t kidding. Give me a fragrance redolent of cooking rice or hot milk, and I’m over the moon (and by the by, those notes can be had in perfumes. l’Artisan’s Safran Troublant smells like rice pudding with saffron, and their Amour Nocturne is mostly hot milk and gunpowder, so I’m just saying. These are exciting times for noses.) I can look at the notes in Salt Caramel and tell you that’s likely a keeper. I’m also a total sucker for orange blossom in any form. Or any part of the orange tree: blossom, fruit, petitgrain. We are so fortunate orange trees exist, as far as I’m concerned. I know that musk always smells very good on me. I know that vetiver always smells like machine oil on me. Sometimes that industrial 3-in-1 Oil note actually works, sometimes it’s horrifying, and it’s never predictable. Patchouli tends to go dirty hippie on me, unsurprisingly, but it’s a pretty cool dirty hippie. Costus is right out: it’s totally fecal. Much to my relief, we’ve no costus listed here, because I really can’t with a poo perfume.
So tonight, having just received these, and having carefully washed the dirty-hippie patchouli and fruit of Ellis Brooklyn’s Raven off my arms (it’s hippie yet cool), I have tested two: Salt Caramel and Eau My Soul. These are my first impressions.
Salt Caramel is exactly what it says it is. The salt note in perfumery is a very likeable note to me; I can taste it on my teeth, and while it doesn’t necessarily smell noticeable to anyone but the wearer and is almost a backbeat rather than a note, it’s a fun sensory experience. The caramel goes rather strongly a dark vanilla after an hour. This will require more experimentation, possibly a full review. This is exactly the kind of thing I sometimes get cravings for.
Eau My Soul is a much more perfume perfume. Unfortunately, I’m not getting much in the way of the floral notes or the fruit (I love a good bergamot): what I get is strongly myrrh, frankincense, sandalwood, and amber. It’s very incense-like. I admit that I have a love/hate relationship with amber in particular: it’s a pleasing, round, yellow note, but I also associate it with a decorative yet pompous and neurotic goth boy I dated in my 20s who liked to wear amber oil, and liked to write strange, mawkish, heavily decorated notes which he would then put a few drops of it on. I’m just going to tell you that it didn’t really go well, that dating experience. He was not very pleasant, even if he smelled good. Anyway, I’m trying NOT to associate amber with this dude, but sometimes, sometimes…it’s a losing battle. OK, I need to stop fixating on THAT; talking about it is almost as tedious as dating that guy was. Seriously, this is downright opulent in a lowkey way, and deserves a much deeper examination. I love Eau My Soul, and as a Soulie myself, I so appreciate this, so it will take a few more wearings for me to decide how exactly this will unfold, but this is a fine scent indeed.
More later…
Maryam Payne, Writer & Editor 