Parfumerie Generale; Aomassai

Notes: caramel, toasted hazelnuts, licorice, bitter orange, spices, wenge wood, vetiver, balsam wood, incense, dried grasses, resins

This write-up is a bit of  a continuation of my previous Parfumerie Generale post but, unlike Coze, Aomassai could never be mistaken for anything other than a gourmand. In fact, Aomassai is the most unabashedly foodie fragrance I’ve yet come across. The opening note is  sweet, sweet caramel. The sweetness isn’t sticky or sickly, but pure sugar. It isn’t heavy, syrupy, or overbearing. Aomassai settles in with toasty cinnamon-y notes, making me dream of fluffy french toast. This definitely isn’t a fragrance to wear on an empty stomach.

I wanted to do this write-up after Coze because there’s an undercurrent of that same bone-dry woodiness here. It’s as though Pierre Guillaume wanted to use Coze as a base and see what new directions he could take it in. The grassy, woody notes weave in and out of the fragrance, adding some depth and intrigue without ever completely taking over. This isn’t a retread of Coze, but a re-imagining.

Aomassai is deliriously sugary, but with a dry edge.  You might think the sweetness means this is a feminine scent, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true. I’d love to smell this on a man. This isn’t the loudest, strongest perfume out there (indeed, it’s only an EdT), but it’s quite distinctive. This is a must-try if you’re into gourmands. And even if not, even if you’re just in the mood to smell like the most intriguing dessert ever imagined, go ahead and give Aomassai a shot.

Pafumerie Generale; Aomassai: $105 for 50 ml. Samples & full bottles available from Luckyscent.

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Parfumerie Generale; Coze

Notes: canapa sativa seed oil, pepper, pimento, coffee, ebony wood, chocolate, bourbon vanilla pods

I’ve spent this entire winter living in dry, woody, smokey fragrances, and Coze is one of the samples I kept returning to again and again. Parfumerie Generale’s Coze is unapologetic about what it is: a dry, dark, carnal scent. The opening is actually a bit harsh on me. It’s like a strong cup of coffee infused with dry dark wood, and I can practically see the smoke swirling in a coffee cup. My first impression was: interesting, but do I want to wear this?

If you’ve looked at the notes you can see there are several food notes in this composition. In addition to coffee, there’s chocolate and some boozy vanilla, but Coze isn’t a foodie fragrance. There is a sweetness here, but it’s not  yummy and sugary. It’s a rather heavy, dark sweetness. A sweetness that feels somehow dangerous. It’s disarming. It’s unexpected, and you wonder if it’s really supposed to be there.

Coze remains dry throughout, but it blooms into a relative richness after a few hours of wear. That initial coffee note gives way to something salty, dry, and animalic. This is the truly dirty, carnal aspect to Coze. There’s a heat to it, but it is not warm and cozy. There’s something about the dryness that keeps Coze at arm’s length. It’s intimate, but, at the same time, there’s something about this fragrance that remains unknowable, unreachable, fleeting, until it finally fades away.

Pierre Guillaume named his fragrance line Parfumerie Generale as a play on his initials, and he’s made these foodie fragrances with a twist into a specialty. Coze is a fragrance that defies classification. It has these gourmand notes but is not something you’d want to eat. It’s dry, but sumptuous. It’s reminiscent of sex, but is not exactly sexy. It has masculine overtones, but I enjoy wearing this and I think it’s an amazing fragrance for a woman.

I wouldn’t wear Coze everyday. In fact, I’m not sure exactly what occasion is appropriate for this perfume. But I’ve found that my original question of do I want to wear this? is almost irrelevant here. Coze is intoxicating. I would recommend getting a sample and letting it speak to you.

Parfumerie Generale, Coze: $120 for 50 ml. Samples and full bottles available from Luckyscent.

And if we’re talking about the Hot Perfumeur Sweepstakes, Pierre Guillaume is definitely in the running:

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Sunny Weather Fragrances

I haven’t posted in a week, and it isn’t because I fell off the face of the internet. Rather, a freak change in weather has had me perplexed about what perfume to wear. It reached 85 degrees here yesterday, which is extremely unusual. I’m pretty sure that we were battling snow at this time last year. My clothing wardrobe and my fragrance wardrobe have been completely thrown off by this sudden heat. I’ve been digging around my stash of samples and bottles this week, and this is what I’ve come up with to wear:

L’Artisan Parfumeur; Timbuktu: This opens with a splash of sharp green mango, so sharp that it’s almost limey. I normally don’t go in for anything so evidently fruity, but the fruit is quickly balanced by a warm woodiness coming from the papyrus wood heartnote. I view this fragrance as a version of Un Jardin sur le Nil with a bit more oomph. The fruity green topnotes are sheer enough for warm weather, but the basenotes of wood, myrrh, and vetiver anchor this scent and ensure that it’s long-lasting. The wood gives off a strange kind of sweaty vibe in the drydown but, what can I say? Sweating L’Artisan appeals to me. I loved my sample so much, I sprung for a full bottle of this.

{Timbuktu: $100 for 50 ML, $145 for 100 ml}

HEELEY; Menthe Fraiche: As you might expect, this one begins with a blast of mint that’s so strong, it’s almost medicinal. Menthe Fraiche develops into quite the herbal composition, with notes of green tea and some bergamot creeping in. Again, no surprises, but this is quite a cool, icy scent. Once you know the name of this fragrance, it performs pretty much exactly as you’d expect. This is an incredibly refreshing mint with herbal undertones. Menthe Fraiche gives the sensation of  briefly cracking the freezer open on a warm day. I wore this one on St Patrick’s Day and it served me well all day.

{Menthe Fraiche: $136 for 100 ml}

Parfums de Nicolai; L’Eau Mixte: This offering definitely leans masculine, as the citrus is abrasive and astringent at first sniff, and remains detectible all throughout wear time. However, I love wearing it on truly hot days. Not every office building/shop/restaurant has turned on air conditioning yet, and this is the perfect fragrance to cut right through the humidity. There’s a fizzy effervescence here that’s really appealing. Jasmine and musk anchor this and keep it from smelling too much like a sparkling orange juice cocktail. I get around 6 hours of wear time out of this, which is quite good for a cologne.

{L’Eau Mixte: $45 for 30 ml, $115 for $100 ml}

All three of these fragrances are available from Luckyscent.

Do you change your fragrance wardrobe according to the season? What are some of your warm weather favorites?

Image: The Open Window, Collioure; Henri Matisse; 1905

By Kilian; A Taste of Heaven

Notes:  bergamot, orange blossom, absinthe, geranium, lavender, rose, costus, patchouli, oakmoss, amber, tonka bean, and vanilla.

It takes a certain kind of confidence to name a perfume A Taste of Heaven but, if any perfumer could tackle the challenge of bottling heaven, it’s the creative and thoughtful Kilian Hennessy.  According to this fragrance, Hennessy’s vision of heaven is a pleasantly weird absinthe-fueled fantasy. A Taste of Heaven takes you on a journey from the bracing opening note of cool lavender; to a lush and very green herbal garden; to a surprisingly cozy vanilla drydown. There’s a funny sort of fizzy quality to a Taste of Heaven that leaves me with the (not unwelcome) sensation of drinking an absinthe flavored cream soda.

Best of all, this fragrance lasts and lasts (easily 10 hours) on my skin, giving me the opportunity to revel in this weird lavender/absinthe creation for as long as I like. This was the first By Kilian scent I tried (and it was actually the first sample I ever ordered!) and it was a great introduction to the line. This fragrance is an odd one (not everyone wants  to smell like absinthe) but I wouldn’t say it’s an intimidating fragrance. It’s potent, but not a scent that will scare anyone away. I see it as easily unisex–although others may disagree because of that lavender!

I own the travel bottle of A Taste of Heaven, which is not quite as luxurious as the full bottle, but is still lovely. The bottlecap is magnetized so it pops back on in the right place every time. Three refills are included in addition to the travel bottle, so you get quite a lot of juice out of it. I recommend going this route if you’re not quite ready to drop $200+ on a bottle of perfume.

The bottom line is, A Taste of Heaven is a delicious fragrance. It evokes a heavenly fantasy that is utterly unique. If you’ve got some disposable cash and want to indulge yourself, you can hardly do better than By Kilian.

By Kilian; A Taste of Heaven: $225 for 50 ml // $135 travel set.  Samples are available from both Luckyscent and The Perfumed Court.

And I can’t let this write-up go without posting a picture of Kilian Hennessy himself.

No further comment necessary.

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Parfums MDCI; Invasion Barbare

Notes: Grapefruit, bergamot, violet leaves, white thyme, cardamom, lavender, ginger, cedarwood, vanilla and musk

When I saw reviewers at Luckyscent and Basenotes comparing Invasion Barbare to Jicky, I marked it immediately as something to try. And it’s true, the sharp citrus opening here definitely recalls the famous Guerlain fragrance. I actually wish the spicy/astringent opening notes lasted longer. It’s an intoxicating blend of citrus notes with ginger and cardamom. But within a few minutes, Invasion Barbare transforms into a smooth blend of lavender, cedar and vanilla. Seriously, I cannot emphasize enough how smooth this composition is. I would drink it if I could.

But the really striking thing about this scent for me is the texture. If a perfume can feel like something, this one is like crushed velvet. This is a soft, somewhat sheer fragrance that wears close to the skin. But don’t worry, it’s definitely persistent. The lavender note lingers long into wear time, adding a little kick to the cedar & vanilla.  Invasion Barbare has a confidence about it, a quiet resolve. The Napoleonic bust on the bottle is no accident. This is the fragrance to wear while sitting on a velvet throne, surveying your empire.

Parfums MDCI pushes Invasion Barbare as a masculine scent and, while I can see why they would (that dry lavender and cedar), I love wearing it for myself. Gendered fragrance is kind of a silly idea to me anyway. It really comes down to skin chemistry and personal taste, not marketing, right? Regardless, I see Invasion Barbare as perfectly wearable for a woman.

Parfums MDCI is a pricey brand, there’s no getting around it. The bottles with the resin busts go as high as $600. Clearly these perfumes are not something you would impulse-buy. Knowing this, Parfums MDCI offers a sampling program on their website. It’s noteworthy that their sample bottles are 12 ml, allowing for plenty of opportunities to test each fragrance. Luckyscent also offers a sample package of eight of Parfums MDCI’s offerings.

Invasion Barbare is a gorgeous, regal scent. It’s something that’s definitely worth experiencing. I can’t say I’m ready to shell out for the big fancy bottle myself just yet, but I’ll definitely be ordering another sample to keep on hand. You know, just in case I need to smell nice while sitting on my throne.

Invasion Barbare: $250 for 60 ml //$375 for the resin bust edition

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Let’s Talk Chanel!

This won’t come across as at all original or unique, but it’s the truth: I have an obsession with all things Chanel. From the glamorous Grande Dame herself, to the storied history of the house, to the quilted leather handbags, to Karl Lagerfeld’s eccentricities, I just can’t get enough. With one exception: Chanel’s fragrances.

Possibly the most famous fragrance of all time, Chanel No. 5, just does not work for me. And I feel strangely guilty about it! Every time I’m out shopping at Sephora or Nordstrom, I feel compelled to try a spritz. It will be different this time! I convince myself. But I only ever end up with the same result: the scent of stale baby powder. I have no problem with powdery scents, and I don’t mind smelling a little ‘old lady’ either (I know some cool older ladies). The fact is, No. 5 just doesn’t smell *right* on me.

I’ve gotten similar results from Coco Mademoiselle  and No. 19. The only mainstream Chanel fragrance that semi-works for me is Allure and even that isn’t a *love it* experience for me.

Enter: Les Exclusifs de Chanel. It took me an embarrassingly long time to discover Chanel’s Exclusifs line and I’ve only begun exploring it in earnest in the past several months. Based on my own scent preferences, I singled out Sycomore as my first Exclusifs sample.

Notes: vetiver, sandalwood, cypress, juniper, pink pepper.

Considering the name, it’s no surprise that Sycomore is all about doing an elegant woody fragrance. Vetiver is definitely the star of the show, evoking roots and forest undergrowth. There’s a considerable amount of dry smokiness here too.  The entire effect is delicate, not dirty. It reminds me of a piece of bark peeling off a tree trunk.

It also has fabulous staying power on me. I recently wore it to my favorite French restaurant, which is a small affair with an open kitchen. I fully expected Sycomore to be obliterated by the cooking smells, but I was happy to note that it was still going strong on my wrist at the end of the night.

So, Sycomore is the first Chanel I’ve really fallen for. I’m currently experimenting with Cuir de Russie, and I have Coromandel and Bois des Iles on my to-try list. I’m hoping that Chanel fragrances & I can finally start getting along.

What are your experiences with Chanel? I’d love to hear from people who really enjoy No. 5, how does it work for you?

Sycomore: $110 for 2.5 fl. oz. // $210 for 6.8 fl. oz. available online from Chanel. I ordered my sample from The Perfumed Court.

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Miller Harris; L’Air de Rien

Notes: French oak moss, Tunisian neroli, sweet musk, amber and vanilla

I initially approached L’Air de Rien with some trepidation. Lyn Harris created this fragrance specifically for Jane Birkin, and I feared I could never live up to Birkin’s inherent, effortless cool. And then there’s the fact that Luca Turin has referred to L’Air as ‘one of the filthiest fragrances of all time’  in Perfumes: the A-Z Guide. Well. After reading that, how could I not try it? If only to see what all the fuss is about.

Imagine my surprise then, when I first sampled L’Air de Rien and discovered that it goes on as smooth as ever. I was reminded of Parfumerie Generale’s Cadjmere, in that the texture here is soft and enveloping. In the beginning, I get sweet hay and powdered sugar. It’s pleasant and extremely wearable. Confused, I double checked my sample. Surely I had dabbed on something else by mistake! This lovely creation couldn’t possibly be the famous skank-monster, could it?

Ah, but the beginning is not everything! L’Air de Rien works sort of in reverse on my skin, in that it begins in a muted fashion, but warms up after a couple hours of wear. This is when the oakmoss and musk really blend together to work their magic. The mustiness of an old library peeks through, along with something a little bit sweaty. I was expecting something animalic, like the civet in Jicky, but that’s not what’s happens here. No, this fragrance isn’t animalic to me, it’s human. L’Air gives me the sensation of smelling perfume on someone else’s skin. It’s positively unnerving, yet I can’t stop sniffing my wrist.

L’Air de Rien never reaches ‘filthiest fragrance ever’ heights on me, but it does feel somehow indecent. It exudes such a strong sense of intimacy. I feel like I’m peering into someone else’s life: wandering through their slightly decayed house, wiping the dust off of bookshelves, opening long-since locked doors, trying on a favorite perfume. If it’s possible to have a voyeuristic perfume, this is it.

And then there’s the name to consider: L’Air de Rien or the air of nothing. Surely un petit jeu by Lyn Harris, since this scent conjures up a flood of images. However, it is true that most of the associations L’Air evokes are more to do with memories or abstractions than any concrete object. But really, the sense of old memories only makes this fragrance more compelling. L’Air is utterly unmissable, just for the experience of it. The question is: is this really something I want to smell like everyday? No. But I’ll be saving my L’Air de Rien sample for those moments when I’m feeling pensive, and am ready once again to explore the story told by this strange perfume.

And if you’d like to read more about L’Air de Rien, Gaia of The Non-Blonde has an excellent write-up here.

L’Air de Rien: $160 for 100 ml; samples and full bottles are available from Luckyscent. If you live in the UK you’ll probably have an easier time hunting down a bottle in person than those of us in the US.

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