Showing posts with label Fracas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fracas. Show all posts

Sunday, December 16, 2012

SOTD: Fracas Parfum

I've been establishing a foothold in some of the classics that are still considered worth owning. A high-quality but small foothold, which to me means a minimum-sized bottle of parfum. Or extrait. You know, that strong stuff. In a stopper bottle, because spraying parfum just seems wrong. And sometimes suicidal.

For a past birthday, Himself gifted me with three-quarters of an ounce of No. 19 parfum--a glorious excess above "minimum-sized." Some months ago, I acquired half an ounce of No. 5 parfum. I'm looking for the smallest possible Shalimar parfum--irritatingly, the only source that I've found selling a small stopper bottle online is out of stock, and another source only had those refill sprayer things. And I just received a quarter ounce of Fracas.  (That tiiiiny little bottle is so dang cute! (Did I say cute? No, of course not.))

I wore it today, and was a bit surprised--not disappointed, just surprised. I expected something stronger, dirtier, and less well behaved. What I got was distinctly...well, pretty. Certainly not a weak and watery kind of pretty, but it wasn't the indole bomb that I expected. I remember, somewhere, discussing whether some people's skins amplify weird notes while others mask them; I suspect that mine masks them. I'm going to have to try that Secretions thing and that Koublai Khan thing and see if they turn all prim and giggly.

Also, it had very little projection and it didn't really last long--or I quickly go anosmic to it. I realize that sometimes parfums blow up a room, and sometimes they are indeed quieter and closer to the skin, but it shouldn't fade so fast, should it? I'm confident in the source that I bought it from, so...well, puzzlement. I'll apply more next time, to see if that amps it up. Maybe I'm just parfum-phobic from my Shalimar trauma.

But it's beautiful. No whining from me there. Better-groomed and sleeker than I expected, but that's just fine.

Friday, November 6, 2009

SOTD: Robert Piguet Fracas, or, The aliens are among us

Huh.

Fracas is the queen of tuberose perfumes. In-your-face, unsubtle tuberose.

I don't like tuberose. I've mentioned this before. It annoys me. It reminds me of people that annoy me. It's indolic. Tuberose bad. No tuberose for me.

I like Fracas.

Did aliens swap out my nose while I wasn't looking?

Now, I was able to understand why I liked Parfumerie Generale Tubereuse Couture. That perfume soaks the tuberose with fruit and citrus and green jasmine and sugar cane and, y'know, stuff. It changes the tuberose into something else, into not-tuberose. Ex-tuberose. That explains my substantial fondness for Tubereuse Couture.

None of that is true of Fracas. Fracas is tuberose. It's practically the definition of the stuff. Sweet and, well, more sweet, and a smothering creaminess, and the orange blossom...

OK, I pause here to say that I also dislike orange blossom.

... and the orange blossom just adds more sweetness, and makes the combination even more floral, because tuberose is a little too creamy to have quite that sharp edge of floral'ness that makes me often dislike florals.

So, to summarize: I dislike tuberose. I dislike orange blossom. I dislike florals. I dislike indolic notes.

Fracas is packed to the rafters with all of these things, and I like it very much.

If you see the aliens, please send them to me. I want an explanation.

Review Roundup: Now Smell This and Bois de Jasmin and Perfume-Smellin' Things and Perfume-Smellin' Things again and Perfum-Smellin' Things a third time and Sweet Diva and Yesterday's Perfume and Feminine Things and Chandler Burr and Scentsate.

Link Roundup: WAFT and Boomtown Boudoir.

Edited to add to the Review Roundup and add a Link Roundup.

Image: By Lordoftheloch, Wikimedia Commons.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

SOTD: Everything


So after perfuming Unpleasant Duties (like pretending I'm a grownup and actually keeping a doctor's appointment), I like to reward myself. The reward tends to be a rapid lunch-hour-sized sniff-fest at the mall.

So today I tried, briefly:

Thierry Mugler Angel: Never tried this before, which is rather like not having read The Da Vinci Code. It's nicer than I, in my perfume-snob persona, expected. I asked for a sample and will actually wear it soon. I might (gulp) buy it someday.

Digression: I got the sample at Sephora; I love everything about Sephora except their perfume selection.  Convenient, always-available testers, available but unpushy salespeople, and they'll always give you a sample. But they rarely have a perfume that I want, and even more rarely have one that I couldn't get cheaper at a discounter. So I make one guilt-based purchase a year (Angel next time, maybe?) to pay them back for the samples that I beg from them. And I restrain myself from urging them to stock Serge Lutens and Parfumerie Generale. But they should.

Robert Piguet Fracas: Another gap in my knowledge of long-popular perfumes. Tuberose and more tuberose, but toned down with enough other things to keep it from being smothering. If I liked tuberose the way that I like greens, I'd get a bottle. But I really only need one tuberose, and it's going to be Parfumerie Generale Tubereuse Couture.

Hermes Caleche Soie de Parfum: I wanted to try the original classic; I see after getting back and Googling that this is a reformulation. It still smells like a classic; I could see it having ladies' lunch with Arpege and Chanel No. 5. Unfortunately, that's a group of classics that I haven't yet learned to like.

L'Occitane Bergamot Tea: L'Occitane seems to have a lot more minis. As a consequence, I may end up owning a lot more of their fragrances. Bergamot Tea is bright, liquid, cheerful bergamot. It made me happy as soon as I sniffed it, and I bought the mini - my only purchase of the day. They had a solid, too, that smells just like the spray - something for me to keep in mind for flying.

L'Occitane Verbena: I find lemon verbena leaves to be a startling, almost candy lemon. This is very true to the leaves. It didn't force me to buy it, but it's nice.

Creed Silver Mountain Water: Nice. Refreshing. Bright. While it doesn't smell at all the same, for me this pretty much fulfills the same craving as L'Occitane Bergamot Tea, at a much higher price.

Tom Ford Velvet Gardenia, Moss Breches, Tobacco Vanille, White Suede, and Who Knows What Else: I staggered away from the Tom Ford display in a fog of honey, white flowers, leather, and tobacco, and I couldn't begin to describe any individual scent. I'll exert more self control next time.

Van Cleef & Arpels Muguet Blanc: Yet Another Gorgeous White Floral. Beautiful. High quality. Sadly, gorgeous white florals leave me almost entirely unmoved. Next!

Van Cleef & Arpels Orchidee Vanillee: Vanilla. For about ten seconds it was beautiful and I was wondering, is this a replacement for Indult Tihota? But, no, it turned plasticky on me. Next!

Van Cleef & Arpels Gardenia Petale: See Muguet Blanc, above. Next!

Van Cleef & Arpels Lys Carmin: OK, there is something going on here that interests me. I may try to get a sample.

Van Cleef & Arpels Bois d'Iris: Really very nice; I may be warming up to iris. So subtle that I'm sure that I didn't get the nuances (the Tom Ford fog was still following me around), but I liked what I could smell. It ends up in a gentle woody powder that reminds me enough of Serge Lutens Douce Amere that I'm not seriously considering buying this, but I will hunt down a sample to give it a chance to change my mind.

Estee Lauder White Linen: While I was trying the classics, I thought I'd try this again, to see if I like it. I still don't like it, but there's progress! The head-blowing aldehydes didn't bother me a bit. Now I just need to get past the amber.

Estee Lauder Estee: It's the kind of "old lady" floral that transcends old lady and becomes "vintage".  It's not your mother's perfume, it's your cool great-aunt's perfume. Flowers, wood, no modern fruity-floral notes. (Mind you, I like my share of fruity floral. But I have more than my share of anti-trend snobbery, too.) This is worth trying again.

La Prairie Life Threads Silver: Tuberose. Next!

La Prairie Life Threads Gold: OK, I can't even remember it. I remember perking up when orange was mentioned, and being unable to find the orange note. But, remember, I've sniffed about thirty perfumes by now. One common per-day recommendation is.... two.

La Prairie Life Threads Platinum: Interesting in an indescribable way while wet. When it dried down ... say what? The perfume in this lucite and metal bottle smells like it belongs with those lunching ladies, Chanel No. 5 and Arpege and Caleche, earlier in the post. Is it the iris? The oakmoss? The galbanum? All of them? I'm boggled. It's like seeing Mrs. Landingham from The West Wing in full goth garb. With a crumpet. The Nice Man behind the counter gave me a sample, so I have the opportunity to be boggled again. Please note that none of this is a criticism. This stuff may be fabulous; it's certainly not bad. I'm just too busy recovering from being startled to make up my mind.

Marc Jacobs Daisy: Adorable bottle. I can't remember the fragrance, which can't be good.

Marc Jacobs Lola: Adorable bottle gone psychedelic. I can't remember this one either.

Kiehl's Original Musk: I can see why this is a staple. Unadorned musk, respectable but not too respectable. It seems more like something to layer with other perfumes than something I'd use on its own.

Jo Malone Dark Amber and Ginger Lily: I was so stunned to find an amber fragrance that I don't dislike that I couldn't gather my thoughts sufficiently to see if I like this one. But... it's nice. Sweet and warm and wintery, at least to my nose.

I came home after all that to a box containing Rochas Tocade on the front porch. I think I'll just leave that unsprayed until tomorrow.

Illustration from Wikimedia Commons.