Vacation

Friends, my apologies for no Reader's Journal post today. I am overwhelmed by projects at work and home, and so I have decided that rather than ping you with "Sorry, no sample" posts over the next week, I am going to take a short break. I will return to regular posting the Tuesday after Labor Day. Have a wonderful week and a terrific holiday, and I will see you soon!

Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier Secrete Datura

Not to give this perfume short shrift, but my post will be brief tonight. I must tell you, I feel as though I've hit some sort of scent jackpot this week--at least that's one way to look at it. Another way to look at it is discovering more perfumes to crowd my already overflowing wish list. I know that at times I still have all the unbridled enthusiasm of the perfume novice. I'm like the drunk person at a party who wants to hug everyone. But I have the gut feeling that this is real treasure, and my nose is not playing tricks.

Secrete Datura has notes of leafy green, orange blossom, heliotrope, neroli, jasmine, hyacinth, ambergris, musk, vetiver, and cedar. sometimes when I find a scent that really wows me, I find myself at a loss for words. How can I describe my experience? I find this very close in spirit to Iris Poudre, although more powdery, softer, and slightly brighter in spirit because of the orange blossom and neroli. This scent is youthful without being young, soft as a cashmere sweater (yet works in the heat), and simply has an aromatically calming effect on me that I haven't found with other perfumes. Work has been a complete hellhole this week, but I've remained calm, focused, and uncomplaining. I feel sure the deep beauty of Secrete Datura has something to do with this.

*image from Luckyscent

Miller Harris Coeur d'Été

I seem to be mostly recovered from my summer cold, so I thought I would circle back and sample the things I picked out what now seems like weeks ago. One of the scents I chose was Miller Harris Coeur d'Ete, and while we are now on the backside of summer's said coeur, I think the scent is still perfectly fitting.

Everywhere, I'm reading that people are ready for fall, and I am no exception. Although I wore light and summery scents last week to counteract the heat (and my cranky disposition), mentally I wanted something more. I had planned to wear Miel de Bois and ended up with Eau d'Hadrien instead. It was all very light and refreshing, but as soon as I realized my nose had recovered, I went straight back to my sample of Coeur d'Été, which I'd worn for several days before I got sick.

Something tells me that if I owned a bottle of this, I would wear it non-stop through late summer and into early fall. With notes of chocolate bean, licorice, lemon, grapefruit, tangerine, banana, white pear, lilac, cassie, heliotrope, sandalwood, benzoin, and vanilla and fruity musk, this scent may sound either too fruity or too sweet to be borne in the heat. It made me think of this, from The Secret History: "Trees creaking with apples, fallen apples red on the grass beneath, the heavy sweet smell of them rotting on the ground and the steady thrumming of wasps around them. Commons clock tower: ivied brick, white spire, spellbound in the hazy distance."

I don't know that I'll ever be able to let go of the idea of back to school and how promising it always felt. I hope I never do let go, because that must be the key to thinking of fall as a beginning rather than an ending. The turning of leaves, a hint of crispness in the air, the changing light, all of these things are evoked for me in this fragrance. To me this scent is both melancholy and uplifting, because it has an overripe quality that speaks of decay, and beneath it a depth that's dark yet comforting. The sandalwood and chocolate bean come through even in the top, tempering the sweetness. The lilac and heliotrope both serve to deepen the scent of the fruit, and I think they actually lend a bit to the dark quality. There's nothing sharp here--the edges are smooth, like finely sanded wood.

Apparently Lyn Harris created this scent while she was pregnant, so it seems odd to speak of decay or darkness. But heightened senses must be some part of embracing the larger part of life, or the cycle of life, I suppose. That may seem a bit over the top, but this time of year always makes me feel a bit more pensive. I wonder if it wouldn't have been more apt to call this scent Fin d'Été, but the heart reference speaks of the depths found here.

*image from Luckyscent

Reader's Journal: What's Next?

This has been a terrible week for blogging. I haven't been sampling, haven't been reading. (GASP! I know!) I did finish my Martha Grimes book, and then my book club was canceled. Oh well, at least I can say now that I've read another mystery writer, one that I enjoyed, even.

I sort of lied...I have been reading The Big House, but only a few pages here and there, so it doesn't really count. Even though it's engaging and well-written, I have to admit: my mind is on what to read next. I have no less than five different choices:

The Murder Room, by PD James. This is my next book club book. I'm tempted to read it and get it over with. No offense to the book or my friend who picked it--book club reading can sometimes feel like an assignment to be got out of the way so I can get to the other things on my list, like...




Special Topics in Calamity Physics, by Marisha Pessl. I've been dying to read this since it came out last year. Description from Powell's: "Special Topics in Calamity Physics is a darkly hilarious coming-of-age novel and a richly plotted suspense tale told through the distinctive voice of its heroine, Blue van Meer. After a childhood moving from one academic outpost to another with her father (a man prone to aphorisms and meteoric affairs), Blue is clever, deadpan, and possessed of a vast lexicon of literary, political, philosophical, and scientific knowledge — and is quite the cineaste to boot. In her final year of high school at the elite (and unusual) St. Gallway School in Stockton, North Carolina, Blue falls in with a charismatic group of friends and their captivating teacher, Hannah Schneider. But when the drowning of one of Hannah's friends and the shocking death of Hannah herself lead to a confluence of mysteries, Blue is left to make sense of it all with only her gimlet-eyed instincts and cultural references to guide — or misguide — her." Of course, I've also seen it get what to me is the highest order of praise: It's as good as The Secret History, by Donna Tartt, one of my favorite books. But then I have that great apprehension one gets before going on a date with someone who seems to good to be true: What if I don't like it?

Bel Canto, by Ann Patchett. This would be a re-read, first round. I've been thinking about it for months. I remember it being wholly engaging and beautifully written. I need some inspiration. This might be the place to get it. Plus, I like to re-read authors when I hear they have a new book coming out. Geeky, I know, but it's what I do. Her new novel, currently titled Run, will hopefully be out soon.

The Ballad of the Sad Cafe and Other Stories, by Carson McCullers. I've read Member of the Wedding and The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, but I've never read McCullers short stories. I've had this book for no less than twelve years and never read it. Think it's about time? (Also, apparently there's a new critical version of this that Harold Bloom put together, if you're into that sort of thing--and if you can find it.)

The Wind Up Bird Chronicle, by Haruki Murakami. Technically, I'd be finishing this one, as I got halfway through it last year and then started a new job. Right after I started said new job, the holidays arrived, and so on and so forth until I forgot about it. Except I haven't really forgotten about it, because trust me, once you've started it, it's hard to forget. I just wonder how much I'll have to re-read. My guess is not much--it's so vivid and well told, it sticks.

I could go on and on listing choices, but I think I've narrowed it down to these five. Obviously the first one is non-negotiable, as it's for book club, and there's nothing more annoying than trying to talk about the book when only a couple of people have read it.

What's next on your pile, readers? Anything I should add to my list? *wink*

*images from Powell's

Thanks for Playing!

Thanks to all of you who shared your perfume choice of the day on Thursday! I myself wore Apres L'Ondee, and it was a perfect choice for another day in the sweltering South. These temperatures lately are hot for Atlanta, but as a Texas native, they make me oddly homesick. When I first moved here and heard people complain about the heat ("It's going to hit the mid-90s! It's so hot! Hotlanta!"), I would laugh. It felt positively cool to me. Now they're feeling a little bit of Texas fire! Hotlanta, indeed.

Despite the heat, for Friday I have my sights (or sniffer) set on the wonderfully strange Miel de Bois. No, I'm not kidding. I've neglected it far too long, and I'm hoping it will give me a boost.

Have a Happy Friday, everyone!

Tell Me What You're Wearing

This. Stupid. Cold. Won't. Leave. Nor will it just get it over with and become a full-blown summer episode, allowing me to take to my bed during the week and avoid work. Instead, it just hangs around like an uninvited dinner guest picking at leftovers and keeping me awake past my bedtime. I can smell well enough, but not well enough to try anything new. Or perhaps I just don't have the energy. Either way, it's left me only wanting to wear things that are familiar and cherished. So far, that's been Le Chevrefeuille and Guerlain Liu (I am happy to report that my decant was undamaged by the heat). I see this trend continuing for the rest of the week.

Speaking of things that are familiar and cherished, does anybody else miss visiting Victoria at Victoria's Own every day to see what she and everyone else are wearing for the day? I wonder where she's gone, and I hope there's nothing serious keeping her away. She was one of my first friends on this blog, and she introduced me to Anne Pliska, Apres L'Ondee, and Messe de Minuit, among other things. I must send her an email!

But in the meantime, and just this once, if you're visiting Wednesday night or Thursday morning as you prepare for your day, tell me what perfume you're wearing or planning to wear for the day and why. Let me do a little vicarious sampling, as I'm too pathetic this week. Just too pathetic!

A Small Break

I'm off sampling today. I wore Annick Goutal's Le Chevrefeuille as armor against the heat and for comfort inside the office. I've been fighting a chest cold (many thanks to my cube mate next door and my cube mate across the aisle, for spreading the germs), and even though my nose is clear, my sense is definitely off. I hope to be back in sniffing form tomorrow, so I can go to the mall at lunch and get a whiff of the EL Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia. Have a lovely evening everyone!

Reader's Journal: A Mystery, and A Diversion

Notice that the sidebar says I'm still reading The Big House. I've stopped to read my book for book club, The Old Wine Shades by Martha Grimes. I'm not quite halfway through, but at least I'm feeling a bit less confused. I'm not a reader of serial mysteries, or mysteries in and of themselves, at all. I've read a few of the alphabet books by Sue Grafton, and I was an avid reader of Agatha Christie when I was young, but that's about it. The trouble I'm having with this Grimes book is that she makes great assumptions that you know who's who and what happened in her last book. Especially at the beginning, she introduces a new character (Strike that--characters new to me. Any regular reader probably follows right along.) with no explanation of who he or she is or what the relation is to the detective, Richard Jury. I know that's the point of a series, but I find it annoying in a book club read. I'm not going to go read the 372 books that come before it just so I can get through this one. In a way, it seems to put some mystery writers at a disadvantage for getting picked as a book club read, at least for generic book clubs like mine. I suppose for a mystery book club, you could agree to read the whole shebang. Anyway, I'm at least starting to get the hang of the one I'm reading and to get into the story, which is sort of interesting. Grimes pulls in some different tactics, like references to literary criticism and physics and so on, so that makes it fun.

The Big House is interesting so far, like peering into a lifestyle I can only imagine, but I'll talk more about that when I finish the book. The book club selection has not been my only diversion from that book. We've been watching "Upstairs, Downstairs," and it's a good thing these only come one or two at a time from Netflix, or else I'd sit down and watch the whole thing from start to finish. I'd call in sick to work, even. I'm only on the second season, and I feel completely cheated when I get a disc that only has two or three episodes. I was only a little girl when this aired here on Masterpiece Theater, and apparently they played it on A&E years ago, but I didn't have cable. I was so excited to find it on Netflix, but I've been sure to evenly space out the five seasons with movies. The thing is, it doesn't give me much to talk about at the office. All my co-workers watch reality television. I say it that way because they seem to watch all the reality shows, not just one or two. Team lunches are filled with talk about who can dance and who can sing and who can lose the most and who's going home. I show great interest in my sandwich or whatever, because they think I am weird and a snob. (Co-worker to me: "You don't watch any reality shows? Not even 'American Idol'? You're weird.") I think I would only make it worse if I said, "And the thing about Sarah hooking up with James Bellamy is, well, you know when Pamela married Mr. B in Pamela, they actually rang the church bells! For real! But you can see that even though things started to change long ago, a lot still hadn't changed..." I did watch Top Chef--the one reality show no one in my group seemed to watch. I should still get points for that, don't you think? At least when fall television starts I'll have "The Office," which is more acceptable and makes me seem less like a circus freak to them (although let's face it: "Grey's Anatomy" would get me bigger points). *sigh*

*image from powells

Frederic Malle Lys Méditerranée, among Other Things

People, between the heat and the job, I hardly have a thing left to give. They're taking everything I've got this week. As usual, I had ambitious plans for sampling, but I only got through two of the samples I picked this week (Miller Harris Coeur d'Été and Etro Royal Pavillion), and I only managed to peck out a measly hundred-and-something words about one of them. In times like these, I want comfort: air conditioning, Diet Coke, truffles, and Frederic Malle.

I've been wearing Lys Méditerranée whenever I can since late last spring. I finally cracked open my sample sometime last May, wore it one day, and promptly ordered a decant. Along with La Chasse, it's been a comforting summer staple. With notes of ginger lily, angelica root, orange flower, and water lily, this perfume is both ethereal and refreshing. It's a green, dewy floral, an eternal spring morning on the wrist. See this picture of lilies I found? This perfume smells the way these flowers look. How often can one really say that about a perfume? Lucky for you, I'm too tired to wax on about this one, but it reminds me yet again why the Frederic Malle line holds first place as my favorite line. When I finally break down and buy a bottle, my first choice is no question: Iris Poudre. But there are too many contenders to count for second place! I must win the lottery, pronto!

I'll end this post by telling you I have not yet received my birthday perfume, and I'm seriously beginning to doubt I will. Not to spoil the surprise, but I broke the bank and ordered the Parure, and because I had a little extra birthday money, I ordered the white bee bottle. Well. At least, I thought I ordered it. I found it online at escentual.co.uk. At least, I thought I found it. You see, all the other sites said, "SORRY! SOLD OUT!" But not escentual.co.uk. No. They let me select one and click Add to Basket, give my credit card number and mailing address...on and on with the endless charade they went, making me register, sending me an email regarding my new order, and then--nothing. Nothing. I log in with my user ID and password to check the status of my order, and there it sits, "Processing." That's all. "Processing." No email about being out of stock or delays or when to expect anything. Just weeks of "Processing." They haven't charged me for it, of course, but still, a little courtesy email would be nice. A little "We're having trouble filling your order" or something. I'm thinking I should just write to them and cancel the order and snatch up the less sexy EDT bottle that's still available elsewhere, for a lot less money. But doggone it, I really had my heart set on that bee bottle! I've looked elsewhere and been unable to find it, and lord knows I am not secure enough to do something like call Guerlain and beg.

And speaking of Guerlain, today I received a decant of Liu I ordered, and I'm terribly worried the heat has ruined it. When I took it out of the envelope, the bottle was quite hot to the touch. But really, what was I thinking, ordering perfume in this heat? Hopefully it will be okay, as Bob got it out of the mail box right after it was delivered. I would be hopping mad, if I weren't too hot to hop.

*image from Barneys, Ginger Lily, and escentual.co.uk

Etro Royal Pavillion

Probably you already knew this, but noshing on dark chocolate while you're trying to sample and discuss a perfume...not the best idea. Maybe if you're trying something gourmand, it works, but not for anything else. I'm just saying. I've been wearing this fragrance for several days, however, so I don't think any harm's done tonight.

The thing about Etro: I've enjoyed every perfume I've tried from this house, but I tend to forget them, lickety-split. Or at least I think I forget them. I don't think I've put one on my "to buy" list yet, but I realized I reference Shaal Nur on a somewhat regular basis, so I must have been impressed. I'll have to wear it again and see, because if I really, really like it (cue Sally Field), then it'll have to duke it out with Royal Pavillion in a back alley in order to win back my affections.

Oh gosh. This truffle is filled with raspberry.

Uh, anyway, Royal Pavillion. Notes!
Top: rose, jasmine, ylang-ylang, mimosa, violet
Heart: sandalwood, vetiver, oakmoss
Base: castoreum, civet

Jasmine and mimosa dominate the top, and the mimosa here is greener than it is sweet, setting up a terrific entrance for the woody, grassy heart. All the other flowers are quiet, particularly violet, which I think is also more of the green variety. The kickers for me are the vetiver and oakmoss, in the heart nonetheless, not in the base where they usually hang out. The mid notes under the floral add pepper and spice, and the animalic end...I hate to say it and I know better just from looking at the list of notes, but I wanted Bond's Saks for Her to really turn the white floral on its ear. I put all my stock in the vetiver in the base. It wasn't to be. While that one is ladylike and beautifully done, Royal Pavillion is more of what I've been looking for.

So many white florals are clean white blossoms, crisp or creamy, tropical or businesslike, tucked behind an ear or held in a bouquet. Royal Pavillion is a white flower pulled from a coat pocket the morning after, slightly crushed, its petals browning at the edges, telling the whole story of the night before: the memory of heat, of the smell of a man dancing close, of the long hours that follow. It's the fragrance of yellowed scrapbooks filled with crushed petals and photos of nightclubs, women in dark lipstick and white satin gowns, dancing to a live band. I find it elegant and sensual, and surprisingly easy to wear in the daytime.

Now, where is that Shaal Nur? I sense a storm brewing...

*photo from Aedes

Playing Hooky

I meant to have a post today, really I did! But I wound up playing hooky from the blog and going to see The Bourne Ultimatum instead. Mea culpa! I shall return tomorrow. A lovely evening to you all.

Reader's Journal: So Many Books, So Little Time

How I wish I could claim that title--So Many Books, So Little Time--but in fact it belongs to Sara Nelson's book, a collection of essays about reading. Ms. Nelson set out to read a different book every week for one year and chronicle her experience. This isn't the sort of book I usually buy, but one day several months ago I went to the bookstore to do a little retail therapy (a note here: books and perfume are the best retail therapy because they will never remind you of weight gain, new lines around your eyes, or your desperate need of a pedicure) and picked this up, thinking it might be sort of amusing.

If you've ever met a person you really liked, someone whom you wanted to befriend, and you've had one of those conversations with said person--over lunch, say--where you find yourself constantly nodding your head in vigorous agreement at everything and punctuating the end of stories with "Me too!", then you understand my experience with this book. Any dedicated reader can tell you stories regarding her plans and schemes for reading, and any dedicated reader can tell you those plans generally fail.

Ms. Nelson began the year with a reasonable premise: as an avid and longtime reader, she made a relatively short and pragmatic list of books she'd been meaning to read but never got to for various reasons, but she ensured her list was not so long that she couldn't account for the occasional impulse purchase or recommendation from a friend. As she walks the reader through her year, she takes on such topics as: Is it okay to double-book yourself...you know, with books? (Answer: YES!) What if you've tried and tried but you can't finish a book? (See: Don DeLillo's Underworld) What if the book you brought on vacation is all wrong for the place and time? (See: "Ambitious Beach Reader" or "Nabokov and Mann at the Shore") What if someone loans you his favorite book, and you hate it? (Not going there.) What about books made into movies? (Wonder Boys--pretty good! Empire Falls--Ed Harris and Paul Newman were great! Under the Tuscan Sun--wouldn't touch the movie with a ten-foot pole!) What about the books you go back to again and again, instead of picking up something new (and perhaps equally compelling)? (The Secret History; Two Girls, Fat and Thin; Diary of a Mad Housewife; anything by Flannery O'Connor, Lorrie Moore, or Alice Munro; Straight Man; Rare and Endangered Species...the list goes on!)

I nodded and "Me too!"-ed (forgive the mangled phrase) all the way through this book. Sara Nelson and I could be best friends, at least when it comes to books. For example, she shuns the overrated writer (and as an editor, she shuns with good reason). I also shun overrated writers! She hated The Bridges of Madison County and thought it read like a bad screenplay. Me too! She makes lists of things to read and then gets distracted and doesn't read them. Oh, oh, I do that! Schlocky, "deep" best sellers about "life lessons" annoy the hell out of her. Come sit next to me, Sara!

Sara Nelson's book echoes my reading life experience. Everywhere, I find sticky notes with book titles and authors scrawled on them: in my purse, in my notebook at work, in desk drawers at work and at home, in the car, in kitchen drawers, stuck in other books as bookmarks. About twice a year I dutifully copy all of these titles into "A Book Lover's Diary," a gift from my mother several years ago, one of those blank books where you record the titles in your library or thoughts about something you've read. Always, I find several titles both on sticky notes and already recorded in the book, and always, I tell myself, "That will be my next purchase. I clearly want to read that book!" Of course, I never get to it. There's always something else to read. It finally got so bad that this year I went around the house and wrote down all the books I own but have never taken the time to read (or read all the way through), with the solemn plan to read what I have and buy no more books until the list was at least half-conquered. There are 66 books on the list. I've read four of them. Not so good, this reading plan of mine. Well, unless I list all the books I bought (even though I said I wasn't going to) this year that I have read. If that counts, then I'm tracking to plan.

**Update: It occurred to me after I wrote this that one of the reasons I enjoyed this book so much is that it reads like a blog--one you can read lying in bed. I don't know if you've tried that with a computer, but I found it doesn't work so well.

*image from Powells

Parfums de Nicolai Mimosaique

I seem to be having a difficult time getting the words out tonight, so you're just getting something short and sweet. Mimosaique has notes of yellow mimosa, green leaves, iris root, jasmine, and anise. The best way I can think to describe this is bottled sunshine. I have a vague feeling I've said that about something else but meant something quite different than what I mean when I say that now, but I'm way too lazy to look it up. Should you come across it somewhere in these "pages," let me know, and perhaps I'll do an actual comparison.

Let's get back to the bottled sunshine at hand, shall we? What does bottled sunshine smell like? Usually, descriptions of bottled sunshine call for words like "bright" and "sparkling," or "citrusy" and "warm." Mimosaique is none of these things. It's not the effect of sunshine--it's the color. It's the color of the sun mid-day at the beach, almost white against a clear blue sky. It's the pale shock of light bouncing off waves. I find it more ethereal and sweet than another mimosa scent I enjoy, Calypso Mimosa. Mimosa has a distinct green note through its early development. In Mimosaique, the green leaves and iris root actually feel more like part of a whole flower. The anise sweetens the mimosa, but luckily does not overpower the delicate yellow floral effect. Which do I prefer? They are different enough that I don't feel I need to choose...or at least to give up my choice! Let's say one is spring (Mimosa) and the other, summer (Mimosaique). What's your choice?

*photo from Luckyscent

Bond No. 9 Saks Fifth Avenue for Her

We were having a seriously gorgeous summer here until about two days ago, when the heat spiked and the sky was enveloped in a yellow haze and I was reminded why this is my least favorite season. For the last four weeks it's been unseasonably cool, with highs in the low to mid-eighties. (Yes, yes, you're thinking, enough with the weather report. It's summer. It's hot. Blah blah blah...Let's hear about the perfume!)

Oh, you! I have a point!

The point is this: The cooler weather meant evening walks were feasible. Not the kind of evening walk where, you know, it's safe to go out because the weather man's pollution-o-meter said after nine o'clock would be fine outside for anyone over the age of eight and under the age of 53 who isn't on oxygen and doesn't own a poodle and is also left-handed. No, the kind of evening walk where you leave your house right after dinner, and you end up lingering outside and talking to neighbors you usually snub because it's just so darn pretty and oh...the heavenly fragrance in the air! Gardenia, jasmine...the scents float by on a gentle breeze. They make the world appear soft.

Saks Fifth Avenue for Her, Bond No. 9's latest fragrance launching September 1, made me nostalgic for those days. (I know it was last week, but you have no idea how much I hate this part of summer.) With top notes of jasmine and tuberose, a heart note of gardenia, and base notes of vetiver and vanilla, Saks Fifth Avenue for Her is a soft, genteel white floral. It bespeaks the history and elegance of the institution for which it's named, while at the same time offering a white floral option that works for the corner office. Usually when I sample a white floral on a work day, I'm completely paranoid about the sillage. Why? Well, take this: A co-worker of mine once brought in a cutting from a gardenia in her yard. By lunch time she'd had so many complaints from the other employees she'd removed it altogether...and people still complained about the scent well into the afternoon! Because of this, I don't wear Fracas to the office, ever, or even Fleur d'Oranger. I'm even careful with my beloved Jolie Madame. But Saks Fifth Avenue for Her is an elegantly understated white floral, the equivalent of the black suit that works for day and into evening, with just a change of accessories.

But I must tell the truth: I got very little in the way of vetiver, and that was the note that excited me the most about this perfume. Although it's listed in the base notes, I thought I caught a whiff of it early in the scent's development. I detected something like beach grass in the morning air, but it was so faint, I wonder if I imagined it. On me at least, this fragrance has no hint of green or earth, really. It's an exquisite butter cream floral, dense but not overly sweet, with a soft dry down.

Like all Bond fragrances, this one has a stunning bottle, a modern black and white design that Saks is calling its "DNA motif...one of many examples of Saks turning to its venerable past in order to energize its future." Whatever the reasoning behind it, it's artful and worthy of the finest dressing tables.

Again, Saks Fifth Avenue for Her launches (along with its cohort, Saks Fifth Avenue for Him) on September 1, at all Saks Fifth Avenue and Bond No. 9 locations. If you're here in Atlanta, stop by Phipps Plaza and visit Jill at the Bond counter. She's fun and knowledgeable and happy to share info!

*image provided by Bond No. 9