Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, May 28, and it’s the start of the Memorial Day weekend here in the US! I don’t have any big plans but wow, it’s such a relief to have so many of us fully vaccinated so we CAN make plans. What a contrast to Memorial Day last year, when the pandemic was really accelerating and little was known about prevention or treatment. This Memorial Day, I will be remembering the many Americans and others who died from COVID-19, as well as those who have died in the military service of our country, the original purpose of our Memorial Day.
On a more cheerful note, today I am testing one of Chanel’s Eaux: Paris-Venise. I like it a lot so far! Have you tried any of the Eaux? I know Undina has, including the newest one, Paris-Edimbourg. (It feels so weird to spell Edinburgh that way). Or, what else are you sampling this weekend?
I’m not much for cocktails. My tipple is usually a glass of wine; two years ago, I was introduced to the Aperol Spritz, and that’s my “fancy summer drink”, though I also like sangria (basically wine with fruit). However, on a couple of trips to Northern Ireland and Ireland in recent years, my husband and I were introduced to small-batch artisan gin. We had previously enjoyed Hendrick’s Gin and I even made up a cocktail that combined it with Fentiman’s Rose Lemonade (here’s the recipe), because my husband does like a good gin-and-tonic in the summer, and I wanted some variety.
Imagine my delight, then, when I found out that 4160 Tuesdays had created a fragrance called Scenthusiasm, based on the botanicals found in Hendrick’s Gin, for a special event by that brand! I didn’t really expect to get my hands on a bottle, but the opportunity arose after I wrote that post in 2018, and I seized it. After all, my little mini of Penhaligon’s Juniper Sling wasn’t going to last forever!
I also have a purse spray of Commodity’s Gin, and I’ve been wanting to compare the two. So today, I sprayed Gin on one hand, and Scenthusiasm on the other. They actually go quite well together as adjacent scents (not layered one on the other). Of the two, no surprise, I prefer Scenthusiasm. It doesn’t smell like gin; it smells like the floral and herbal notes in Hendrick’s, with natural orris (iris) butter, rose absolute, lemon and orange essential oils, cucumber extract, juniper absolute (of course) and coriander essential oil with musk, fresh air and white wood note synthetics. As perfumer Sarah McCartney says: “It’s inspired by gin, and has gin notes but mostly it’s a floral at heart: rose and iris, with the herbs dancing around it.” Just my cup of tea, to mix my metaphors! To my nose, the dominant floral note is the orris root; here, the rose is uncharacteristically cast as a supporting performer. The cucumber and juniper berries led the middle phase an astringent greenness, while the orris root carries through from start to finish.
Commodity’s Gin, on the other hand smells more masculine, aromatic, and woody to me. Commodity has closed down, but its fragrances are still to be found online and sometimes at discounters like T.J. Maxx and Marshall’s. Gin‘s top notes are Juniper Berries, Grapefruit and Lime; middle notes are Ginger Leaf, Labdanum and Freesia; base notes are Oak, Musk, Smoke and Patchouli, according to Fragrantica. As soon as I spray it, there’s a strong pop of lime and juniper, both aromatic scents I quite like. They do smell like a traditional, aromatic men’s cologne to my nose, an association I can’t shake even though Gin is truly unisex. The opening is really intriguing, with its burst of lime and juniper, together with the citrus essential oils. The heart phase smells mostly gingery to me, with an early entrance from both oak and smoke., followed pretty soon by patchouli. I don’t smell freesia at all. Both the opening and heart stages dry down pretty quickly, leaving a combination of oak, musk, smoke and patchouli that smells like the wood-paneled interior of an old-fashioned room like a library or study, where gin cocktails might be served before dinner and where family members and guests might be allowed to smoke occasionally.
How do you feel about gin? Boozy scents? Aromatic florals?
P.S. 4160 Tuesdays is having a “Tidying Up Sale” to make room, and Scenthusiasm is marked down in its smaller sizes (50 ml and below), by 50%! If I didn’t already own a lot of it, I’d be jumping on that.
Cheerful and amusing are the two words that come to my mind upon trying Tocadilly, by Rochas. Who could fail to be amused by its ridiculous bottle, a purple and green version of the quirky Tocade bottle for the same house? And Tocadilly is undeniably cheerful. Created by perfumer Christopher Sheldrake and launched in 1997, it is a light green, summery floral that doesn’t change much over time. (I’ve seen other information saying it was created by Maurice Roucel, who definitely created Tocade, but the sources that seem more authoritative credit Sheldrake).
Its short list of notes is: top notes of cucumber and lilac; heart notes of hyacinth, jasmine, and coconut; base of sandalwood and white musk. However, I’ve seen other notes lists that add glycine, rose, vetiver to those. When I first spray Tocadilly, I get a burst of something light green, but I can’t really say that it is cucumber. I guess I would say it is “cucumberish”. After having experienced so many Ellena scents, I might more accurately say that I smell a greenish melon-like top note, since to many of us, the scents of cucumber and melon overlap somewhat (they are members of the same plant family, the Cucurbitae). It is more like honeydew than cantaloupe. I smell a vague hint of lilac, but if you are seeking a lilac-focused fragrance, this isn’t it (at least, not to my nose). The melonish opening dies down after 15-20 minutes, though there is still a hint of it during the heart phase.
Similarly, although I first sought out Tocadilly because other commenters said it smelled of hyacinth, I only get a vaguely hyacinth note in the heart phase. I do smell a pleasant blend of a lightly floral coconut and light jasmine, neither of them overwhelming. To my nose, Tocadilly smells fresh, light, youthful, summery. Really, it’s another bargain beauty which you can still find online for very affordable prices (<$30 for 100 ml on some sites). It is one of the few fragrances for which I would recommend NOT buying a tester if the small cost difference between that and a regular bottle doesn’t matter to you, because the testers will mostly come without the funny cap, which is part of Tocadilly‘s charm.
As it dries down, Tocadilly‘s floral notes fade until what is left is a warm, soft, white musk. While this fragrance won’t set hearts aflame or imaginations afire, it is a charming, cheerful fragrance that works well in warm weather and would be fine to wear in most workplaces. It lasts for a few hours on my skin, and it’s inexpensive enough that one doesn’t feel extravagant just reapplying it as desired.
A brand whose fragrances I tend to enjoy is Penhaligon’s. As befits a venerable English brand, with warrants from the late Duke of Edinburgh and the Prince of Wales, they have a very English sensibility and they make both lovely floral scents and elegant men’s fragrances. Ellenisia aligns with their other floral fragrances in being soft, pretty, feminine. The brand website says:
Full-bodied, feminine, and oh so seductive. Vanilla and violet show Ellenesia’s sweet side, but there’s more to discover in this eau de parfum. After all, tuberose only blooms at night…
Ellenisia‘s top notes are Violet Leaf and Mandarin Orange; middle notes are Gardenia, Tuberose, Jasmine and Rose; base notes are Plum and Vanilla. I love the opening — the combination of green violet leaf with juicy mandarin orange is lively and appealing. The white flowers at the heart of Ellenisia quickly step forward: to my nose, the strongest one are gardenia and tuberose, followed by jasmine. I can’t say that I smell any rose.
I’m not a huge lover of tuberose; I have to be in the mood for it, and even then, there are several other floral notes, classics in perfumery, that I prefer. But this is a soft, sweet-but-not-too-sweet tuberose, and it’s very appealing. Be warned, though — if you just don’t like white flower fragrances, you probably won’t like Ellenisia. It reminds me a bit of Dior’s 1985 blockbuster Poison, with a lighter touch. As it dries down, the tuberose and gardenia are still going strong, with an undertone of plums. Some commenters find it “soapy”, and I can understand that. It’s not very soapy to my nose, but there are certainly many soaps that smell of white flowers, and that creates a strong impression.
I think the opening few minutes of Ellenisia are different and special, but they fade quickly, in favor of the tuberose and gardenia. I have one 50 ml bottle of Ellenisia, and that’s plenty for me.
How do you get along with tuberose in fragrances? Do you have any favorites? Or any favorite Penhaligon’s fragrances?
So I just blogged about Modest Mimosa and decided that mimosa, while nice, is not really the note for me. Reader, I may have been wrong. Today, I wore JD Mimosa Mixte, which I wrote about last fall, and I’m loving it. JD is one of the lines created by Jeffrey Dame, of Jeffrey Dame Perfumery, and it contains several bargain beauties. I have really enjoyed Vanille Farfelue and I love JD Duality.
See what I did there? I’m so pleased with myself for that headline. But in fact, my SOTD today is Vilhelm Parfumerie’s Modest Mimosa, from another sample kindly given to me. Aside from the marvelous alliteration, I like it a lot. It won’t be a top love for me because I’ve realized that mimosa isn’t one of my favorite notes; there are other blossoms I prefer, although I’ve enjoyed mimosa-based scents like Brocard’s Mechta. Jerome Epinette created Modest Mimosa in 2016. It has a fairly short list of notes: top: Neroli and Carrot; middle: Mimosa and Violet; base: Musk and Leather.
I smell the mimosa and violet right from the start, with some carrot, but very little neroli. The violet is quite powdery and very discernible, which is probably why some Fragrantica readers have said it reminds them of Apres L’Ondee. But mimosa is front and center, and it’s not modest at all. This isn’t an overpowering scent, not at all, but the mimosa announces herself at the very beginning and takes up residence at center stage.
To my nose, Modest Mimosa doesn’t evolve or change very much over time. Luckily, it smells very nice indeed. Powdery yellow floral describes it perfectly. Its list retail price is quite high, looking at LuckyScent’s website; I would not pay that much for it, but if you are a lover of mimosa and can find this at a better price, it might be just the ticket. Undina, at Undina’s Looking Glass, has several suggestions, in a number of posts about her search for the perfect mimosa.
Do you like mimosa fragrances? Or have you ever gone in search of a perfect floral note in a perfume?
When I first began to engage in “perfume tourism”, in 2015, I was lucky enough to be able to tag along with my husband on one of his business trips to London. I spent every day roaming London, visiting gardens and discovering perfumeries. One of them was Les Senteurs, a deservedly legendary perfume boutique that sells many niche fragrances. (If you ever get the chance to visit their store on Elizabeth Street, I highly recommend that you do! The staff are really nice, friendly, and knowledgeable, and the neighborhood is beautiful — plus, Jo Loves is right up the block!).
On that first visit, I told the helpful sales associate that I was interested in smelling some rose fragrances, as I had spent so much time in rose gardens that week. He showed me several and kindly offered samples, too. One in particular that he recommended was Tobacco Rose, launched just the year before, from Papillon Perfumery. He knew quite a bit about its founder, Liz Moores, whom he had met, and told me what a nice person she was! I follow Liz on Instagram — what an interesting person she is, and I love her photos of her pet owl, Ghost.
I own full bottles of a couple of her fragrances, Dryadand Bengale Rouge, but not Tobacco Rose. Sadly, as I exited Les Senteurs’ shop in their other location (now closed) that day, I took a terrible fall and broke my shoulder. True story. I had planned to live with the sample for a day and night, and return the next day to buy a full bottle if I loved it. The best-laid plans of perfumistas … Instead of buying perfume, I found myself in a NHS emergency room being x-rayed, after having taken a double-decker bus across London to get to my husband’s office. Yes, I was probably in shock.
That summer, the summer of 2015, was when I learned how to use WordPress and launched my blogs, as I was stranded at home all summer. I guess I was an early adopter of working remotely, lol! But back to Tobacco Rose. I enjoyed my sample, and later bought a sample set of several Papillon fragrances. My favorite so far is Dryad, and I love Bengale Rouge, but I’m always tempted by Angelique. I do enjoy Tobacco Rose. The website says:
A sensual blend of Bulgarian rose, geranium and Rose de Mai form an opulent backdrop of velvety rose notes set against a luxuriously rich and smoky base of French hay and earthy oakmoss. Soft animalic touches of ambergris and beeswax have been suspended in a sumptuous blend of musks, creating an enigmatic, alluring and unmistakable perfum.
That pretty much says it all. Tobacco Rose starts out right away with a smokiness that continues through its entire development. It is not heavy or overwhelming, it is more like tendrils of smoke that entwine a lush red rose. I don’t believe there is actual tobacco in the fragrance, I think the gentle smokiness comes from the hay, oakmoss and ambergris. Liz Moores has written that she wanted to avoid creating a “sweet, old-fashioned, pretty” rose, she wanted to create a scent that felt “as though one were breathing in not only the fading petals but the rich earth from which a rose grows.” She included mineral notes to achieve that effect, and they are discernible, although not listed elsewhere, especially during the drydown. They lend a dryness to Tobacco Rose that really appeals to me.
The oakmoss is also discernible but it is included with a light touch. It blends beautifully with the rose, ambergris, and musks. Tobacco Rose really is one of the best rose fragrances available; it was a finalist for the Fragrance Foundation Awards in the category of Best New Independent Fragrance.
Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, May 21, and I’ve just picked the first ripe tomato in my garden! If you’re thinking, that’s very early, you are right — it’s a variety called “Early Girl”, and I also bought a mostly grown plant, as opposed to the usual seedlings, just to get a headstart on the tomato season. There is just nothing like a fresh, homegrown tomato, which is why I persevere in spite of marauding birds and chipmunks. Have you ever heard of a book called “The $64 Tomato”? That’s me.
You may wonder why I’m carrying on about tomatoes here — yesterday’s May Melange Marathon scent was Eve, by St. Clair Scents, and it has a prominent note of tomato leaf. Perfumer Diane St. Clair also used tomato leaf to great effect in one of her first scents, Gardener’s Glove. No surprise — I’m a fan.
What scents are you wearing these days, as we transition from spring to summer?
One of the joys of this fragrance hobby is discovering independent perfumers and their work. One of my favorites is Diane St. Clair, of St. Clair Scents. I’ve loved her earliest creations, like Gardener’s Glove and First Cut. My SOTD is Eve, one of the “Audacious Innocence” collection, which was a finalist for the 2020 Art & Olfaction Awards in the artisan/independent category.
The other fragrance in the collection, Pandora, is a “sister” to Eve. According to the brand’s website, they share most of the same notes, but Pandora shows a darker side, with added base notes of labdanum and opoponax. Eve‘s notes, without those added base notes, are: Top notes of Lemon, Tomato Leaf, Apple, Bergamot and Mandarin Orange; middle notes of Orris, Lilac, Bulgarian Rose, Turkish Rose, Ylang-Ylang, Carrot Seeds and Jasmine Sambac; base notes of Oakmoss, Tonka Bean, Woods, Vetiver, Musk. Both scents come in a parfum extrait concentration of 35%.
Pandora, by John William Waterhouse
Diane St. Clair sees Eve and Pandora as similar:
The stories of Pandora and Eve, who reached for the forbidden apple, have much in common. Both came to symbolize women who were punished for disobeying orders and acting on their impulses towards curiosity. We believe that women who challenge the rules and follow their curiosity are striving towards creativity, innovation and independence.
The opening of Eve is as lush as the painting that inspired it, above. It smells of all the fruits listed as top notes, bound together by the astringent greenness of tomato leaf and bergamot. This seems so appropriate, since the Garden of Eden, where Eve was tempted to eat the apple, was more of an orchard than a garden. (In fact, I’ve learned that the word “paradise”, often used to refer to the Garden of Eden, comes from an ancient Persian word that means a walled orchard garden). I love green scents, so the tomato leaf especially appeals to me. A good thing, since it is quite strong! As the top notes retreat, the scent becomes more and more floral, with orris taking the lead, though ylang-ylang and roses are right behind it. This stage is rich and lush — almost creamy, but not gourmand at all.
I smell the oakmoss almost from the start, and certainly in the “heart” phase. This is some serious oakmoss, friends. It evokes the shadowy, green darkness under the dense branches of trees. That impression only grows stronger as the floral notes fade away and the other base notes anchor the whole scent to the earth, with their woods, musk, vetiver. I can’t say that I smell tonka much at all. Eve lasts a long time on my skin, several hours.
Sillage is moderate, as one would expect from an extrait, but I would say that a little goes a long way! I dabbed tiny spots of Eve on my wrists, and their scent carries easily and clearly up to my nose. Longevity is excellent. Eve just feels like a high-quality perfume all around; one senses the quality of the ingredients right from the start. Even though it is supposed to be the “yin” scent to Pandora‘s darker “yang”, this is not a light or frivolous fragrance. It is not to be trifled with! Which is why I used the gorgeous Pre-Raphaelite painting as this post’s featured image; it shows Lilith, said in Jewish folklore to have been the first wife of Adam (yes, that Adam), who was replaced by Eve because she was too rebellious. The painting beautifully captures a lush, flowering garden, and I think that’s a perfume bottle by the mirror!
Lady Lilith, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Have you had the chance to try any of St. Clair Scents’ fragrances? Do you have any favorite artisan or independent perfumers?
Serenity Now Scents and Sensibilities 