SOTD: Heeley Cardinal

Yum.

Want.

Image: By Harald Falk. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTDays: Parfumerie Generale Tubereuse Couture and Heeley Cardinal

On Wednesday, I wore Tubereuse Couture. It was as lovely as ever, but gorgeous slightly dirty buttery flowers with a streak of green weren't what my brain wanted. I didn't know what it wanted until I got a whiff of smoke late in the day--I don't know if it was a snuffed candle, a match, or someone's perfume--and I developed a sudden inconsolable longing for incense. Not flowery or fruity or herbal or spicy or otherwise gussied-up incense, but just plain old incense. This is a brand new craving for me.

So today I wore Heeley Cardinal. Perfect. The opening was a fraction fruity--I have no idea what note was involved; the cistus?--but now it's plain, not-too-dry incense. The sample is almost empty and I'm thinking about a decant. Actually, that's a lie--I'm thinking about a bottle, but That Would Be Wrong.

Image: By LeonWeber and Heidas. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Heeley Cardinal (Quick sniff)

I've been playing with a new Batch O Samples this week. Friday's fragrance was Lyric Man, but I wasn't prepared for it--I expected something heavy and complex, and the first notes struck me as light and fresh and almost soapy. I need to try it again before saying anything more.

Today's fragrance was Heeley Cardinal. Wasn't someone recently looking for a church-style incense without a lot of side dishes? If I'd already tried this, I would have recommended it. The beginning was smooth and calm, comforting without being sweet, sober but not dark. Unfortunately, I was distracted and can't recall any details about the later stages--I enjoyed it all the way through, but that's all I remember. I'll have more another day.

Image: By Calapito. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTW: Barney's.

Last Saturday was, well, Last Saturday. (You know, our private holiday, described here?) But there wasn't time to do any shopping, so I declared this Saturday to be Last Saturday

This Saturday, we went to Barney's.

Heh.

I assured Himself that I just needed, oh, half an hour. Close to one scent-fogged hour later, my phone went off, with the blaring Warning! Warning! ring that I set after Himself complained that I never seemed to hear the phone when he calls. He was very courteous on the phone, and assured me that he was just calling to let me know that he was moving from the cafe where he usually waits out my perfume worship in reasonable comfort, to elsewhere on Union Square. It seemed appropriate for me to make decisions and get moving.

The decisions at that point involved:

• A tuberose perfume from... um... oh, dear. It's on the shelves against the column right by the stairs - no, that's not going to help you any. A tuberose that contained, to my nose, a substantial melon note. That was right out. And, of course, I never buy a perfume on the day I smell it for the first time, so that would have eliminated it anyway.
• Serge Lutens Chene. What ever made me think that I didn't like this? What ever made me think that I didn't love this? Gooey sweet stuff plus something sharp plus rum. Want. And I've smelled it at least once before, so technically buying it wouldn't violate the rules.
• Nasomatto Hindu Grass. I couldn't decide if I liked this a good deal more than most fragrant-grass fragrances or just liked it. Anyway, it was the first day I smelled this one, too, and you know the rule. I never break the rule. Breaking the rule at The Perfume Shoppe doesn't count, because Nazrin is magic. Or psychic. Or something. The nice man gave me a sample, though.
• Nasomatto Absinth. I liked this very much. Sweet and sharp and vaguely edible. I'd never smelled it before either.
• Bois 1920 Sutra Ylang. I didn't even sniff this, but whenever I see it, it goes into the decisionmaking apparatus in my brain, which makes happy longing noises, gets a fresh look at the price, and spits out a rejection slip.

There is now a bottle of Nasomatto Absinth in the New Perfume Admiration Spot in the living room. I'm taking the Fifth. At least until I can manufacture an exception to the rule. Luckily, it's likely to be about six months before I get to Barney's again.


Edited to add: Aha! the "um..." tuberose was Heely - I went on a bottle-recognition hunt through Barney's website, plus now I remember also sniffing Cardinal. And therefore by process of elimination, it was probably Heeley Ophelia - the notes look just about like the notes list that the nice man showed me.

If it was Ophelia, then I'm guessing that the melon note might have really been an aquatic note (I tend to read aquatic as melon), though there's a little bit of a dark joke feel about that, isn't there?

In any case, it's not for me. The top notes felt like a very classic-fragrance take on tuberose, which was great. But the melon spoiled that within five minutes, and then the good black-and-white-movie classic fragrance vibe turned into an overperfumed-lady-at-church sneezy classic fragrance vibe, plus  melon, and that was that. I'm perfectly prepared to blame my skin and my nose rather than Heeley - I've mentioned more than once that my nose can't catch certain notes, and there might be a missing note that would have pulled it all together to perfection. But I'm still not buying it.

Image: By Eric Litton. Wikimedia Commons.