Perfume: Resolutions. And, by the way, Youth Dew.

So I've been declaring perfume acquisition resolutions.

Rule 1: Buy the smallest available bottle.

I have no need for 100ml of perfume. Or 30ml. Heck, I have samples of things that I love that I haven't used up. I would have said before that there's no reason to own more than 15ml; now I'm concluding that for most fragrances, there's no need for me to own more than 5ml.

Rule 2: Spend my money where it counts, in terms of encouraging the market to produce the perfumes that I want.

Right now, I've decided that "where it counts" for me is small and indie and artisan perfumers. (What's the difference between those three? I dunno. A number of houses seem to qualify on all three grounds.) Perfumers that rebel against annoying regulations--for example, participants in the Outlaw Perfume Project--get bonus points.

Why am I telling you all this? Because, for once, I've actually followed some of my resolutions. My perfume purchases of the nearish past are;

• Aftelier Honey Blossom in the itty bitty "Barbie fifth" 2ml bottle.
• Providence Perfume Co Moss Gown in the small 7.5ml size.

Yay resolutions!

Today, on the other hand, I wore Estee Lauder Youth Dew. The perfume, not the bath oil. New. (Ish; I bought it a few months ago.) My first thought, when I sprayed it, was "hairspray." Except, I can't actually identify any hairsprayish note in Youth Dew's fog of spicy, er, spiciness. My theory is that every beauty parlor that I entered as a child was filled with women wearing Youth Dew.

That is all.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Perfume: Slacking

I've been slacking on the perfume talk.

In the last few days, I've worn Estee Lauder Azuree, vintage Rochas Femme, Imaginary Authors Bull's Blood, Imaginary Authors l'Orchidee Terrible, and Indult Tihota. And sniffed Estee Lauder Youth Dew.

But I don't seem to be perfume-wordy. I can say that I'm glad that I didn't spend a bazillion dollars on a full bottle of Tihota back when it was available; it turns out that I am indeed disenchanted with it, and find it to be merely Perfectly Nice. And I'm not sorry that I bought a bottle of Azuree. I also bought a bottle of Youth Dew, because... OK, I don't know why. I just did. New, but in the pseudo-vintage blue bottle. I'll babble about both of them one of these days.

Um.

See, I'm just posting about perfume because it's been a few days. A few days in which I've been sleeping a lot and eating too much fried chicken. That sounds like I'm depressed, but I think it's just adjustment to winter, because I don't have that "Bleah. Why bother?" feeling. Instead, it's more, "Crispy skin and naps! Yay!"

Um.

That is all.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss

I wore a bottle!

That sounds weird. But you know what I mean, right? I actually sprayed on a scent from a bottle that I own, instead of wearing a sample. After two fuzzy-powdery "meh" scents, I wanted to wear something I know I like. And I do. Jasmine White Moss gets ladylike, sweet, sour, floral, green, and affable all in perfect balance.

OK, that's all. There might be more babbling later.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: By Poco a poco. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss

Do you like NCIS? I tend to dislike military shows, but I like Mark Harmon and I adore Abby. I like the idea that a geek can have that much style. So I keep watching it, even though the plot itself rarely interests me.

What's my point? DiNozzo mentioned Estee Lauder in a recent rerun, which reminded me of the existence of Jasmine White Moss. So I wore it today. Not much of a point, really, but I'm trying to get back into that regular-perfume-blogging thing, so I'm licensing myself for pointless rambling.

So. Jasmine White Moss. Sometimes it's too "big" and sometimes it's just right. Today, a sunny but medium-cool day with the Thalia daffodils still blooming, it was just right, in a girly way. I didn't bother to dress up for it, but I did find myself paying just a bit more attention to my hair than I usually do.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss

It's not spring yet. I can tell by the way that this scent smelled lovely and green and floral and just like itself, and I didn't like any of that one bit.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Ramble: Friday Night. Oh, and the SOTD was Jasmine White Moss.

Friday night.

Ahhh.

Friday night is two full days away from going back to work. That makes it the most relaxing time of the week for me - at least, as long as I've gotten the loose ends of the work week properly tied up and put away on Friday afternoon.

When I do get the job packed away at a decent hour, Friday night is the one part of the week when I don't feel bound by time - and I'm a leisure time miser, always begrudging the minutes that are slipping away. I can stay up until dawn, without feeling that I've cheated myself out of the next morning. I can go to bed early, without feeling that I've cheated myself of the evening. I can spend three hours in a bubble bath. I can cook, watch TV, read blogs - or, not infrequently, all three at once. My plate is full of time, so I don't worry about sensibly doling out the bites.

I'm going to go put Die Hard on the TV, and then fall asleep on the couch while it's playing.

Ahhh.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss

Today, this was perfect. Feminine power without asphyxiating aldehydes.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss. And rambling.

My perfume lives in tilt-top bread boxes, to minimize light exposure while allowing quick accessibility. I used to keep some of it in drawers, but I got tired of the sound of bottles falling like dominoes every time I opened the drawer. Or the drawer next to it. Or walked by in heavy shoes.

The bread box storage makes it difficult to actually reach many of the bottles, as they're lined up in claustrophobic little rows, front to back.  My favorite scents - currently L'Eau Rare Matale, Cristalle, Ivoire, and the oxygen-depriving florals like A La Nuit - hang out in front, or even cluster on the shelf above, improperly exposed to light. (But not, I promise, direct sunlight.) Those of least interest - Mitsouko, Philosykos, Sweet Lime & Cedar, and other worthy scents that I should just give away because I seem incapable of appreciating them - migrate to the very back and never see the light. It seems unfair that the least favorite gets the most protection.

Sometimes a favorite gets pushed into the wrong territory and has to be rediscovered when I'm digging deeper for something new. That's how I found Jasmine White Moss. I wore her, and she was lovely, though I don't have anything new to say about her - rather than blooming extra big in the heat, she burned off and ended up as a faint, but nice, veil of green. And now she's hanging out on the open shelf with the other favorites, all of them cringing from the light. I really must tidy up.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Photo: Mine.

SOTD: Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss

Have you noticed that some perfumes seem to call for a little extra self-spiffing before it feels quite right to wear them? For example, I don't wear any Chanel extrait unless I'm nicely dressed, and preferably wearing some jewelry. And while Daim Blond doesn't care about my clothes (she's accepted that I'm never going to own a white fur), I brush my hair to a shine before I put any on.

I didn't think that Jasmine White Moss was one of these perfumes, but it turns out today that I was wrong. She's fine with casual wear, but she does want it to be the casual wear of a nattily dressed fifties or sixties housewife. Maybe Laura Petrie.

But she's polite about it. I got the sprayer out while dressing this morning, and there was a conversation:

Jasmine White Moss: "Do you happen to have a white shirt with a collar? That nice part-poly permanent-press one that you have would be lovely, and so easy!"

ChickenFreak: "Sorry, no, I'm behind on the laundry. Long-sleeved black tee shirt is what's clean."

JWM: "...oh. Well, black is classic, of course. That'll be perfect. I do hate to interrupt you again, but have you considered something a little darker than those summer jeans, maybe with your nice black flats?"

ChickenFreak: "Laundry. The white jeans are it. And the only handy shoes are my clunky Merrells."

JWM: "Yes, of course. That will be lovely. Black and white is a very crisp look."

So I'm wearing Jasmine White Moss, but I think she's a little downhearted.

She remains lovely, however. Softer and less challenging than I remembered - after some gentle fireworks at the beginning, I get a steady supply of barely sharp green and mildly sweet floral. There's enough contrast to make me wish for just a little more of each one, a tension that keeps the fragrance interesting.

I must remember to make this part of my winter rotation. I like smelling like Laura Petrie, or one of the "girls" from Mad Men, even if I refuse to do my share.

Review Roundup: In the post from last time.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Perfume: Monsters and Civet and Patchouli, Oh, My!

Hunting for earrings in a vintage shop recently, I found and bought a tiny vintage "violin" bottle of Dana Tabu, and another tiny vintage bottle of Raphael Replique.

Then I read up on them. I suspect that I should be very much afraid.

A Perfume Posse post on Tabu compares the fragrance to King Kong. And Godzilla. It also quotes a Now Smell This post that states that the infamously strong fragrance Youth Dew is "almost prim in comparison" to Tabu.

And a Perfume Posse post on Replique describes Replique as  a cross between Jean Desprez Bal a Versailles and Tabu. King Kong and Godzilla both come up again.

So what's my response?

"Where can I get some of that Bal a Versailles?"

As it turns out, Bal a Versailles in multiple strengths, even the pure parfum, is highly available and cheap. I may well be ordering a quarter ounce of the pure parfum before the weekend.

Be afraid.

Image: Wikimedia Commons

SOTD: Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss

I thought that this was a summer scent, but I was wrong. In the summer, it's a little "big" - it's definitely a Lauder. Today, on a somewhat chilly day, it's a wonderful soft green, just aggressive enough to keep it from fading away, not so aggressive or chilly as to offend others. Himself didn't even notice, in a closed car, that I was wearing two sprays.

It's not also such a grand, distant green that it makes me feel that I must live up to it. Chanel No. 19, for example, does need living up to, especially in the parfum. I love that about it, but it does mean that I don't apply No. 19 to run out to the hardware store - or if I did, I'd feel that I should dig out a pressed white linen shirt and probably at least one piece of jewelry.

Jasmine White Moss, while perfectly comfortable at a nice restaurant, would also be perfectly comfortable at the hardware store.  Or an Easter egg hunt. Or a wedding. Or while driving car pool. There's no vamp about this fragrance; it's a Nice Girl.

The consensus in the Perfume Freak world seems to be that this scent is a very good sign of new trends. (Trends also represented by Issey Miyake's A Scent.) It's dry, it's green, it's (somewhat) mossy, and there isn't a peach, apple, strawberry, or pitcher of vanilla syrup anywhere in sight. It recognizes history - for that matter, it may be history, because it's reputed to be a formula started by Estee Lauder in the 1980s. (I pause here to be horrified that the 1980s were almost thirty years ago now.)

In part, I suspect that I bought a bottle to support the trend. But I'm not sorry.

Review Roundup: Perfume Posse and Now Smell This and Perfume Shrine and Fragrantica and A Mom In Red High Heels and Sniffapalooza and The Scented Salamander and Perfume-Smellin' Things and Grain de Musc and I Smell Therefore I Am and Polish, Platforms, Perfume.

Photo by Kyknoord, Wikimedia Commons. Click for details.