Perfume Rambling: Scenting on the run

So, as I mentioned, we've had a busy and stressful few weeks. Requesting permission to move, biting my nails until I got it, boxing everything we've ever owned (OK, maybe not everything), talking to realtors, moving, rearranging the house to make room for some of the stuff, stashing the rest, and taking not nearly enough time off for the process. And that was just one of the things going on.

Once things settled down a bit, it occurred to me that a post about perfume choices during busy times might be worth writing. When there's limited time or energy or inclination to make a careful, considered choice based on my moods, what do I wear?

Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale, that's what.

Oh, I wore one or two other things - if I look at my Twitter feed, I see that I wore Fou d'Absinthe on 3/25, for example, and I seem to remember wearing some thick floral on another day, and regretting it. But in general, lately, if I'm scented, it's with L'Eau Rare Matale. That was true in either home--from a decant in the one we moved out of, and from the original bottle in the one we're finally permanently living in.

So, why? What is it about L'Eau Rare Matale? Does this mean that if I ever went to a signature scent, this would be the one? Is that possible? Not No. 19, not Cristalle, not White Rose, not Un Lys, not Tubereuse Couture, but instead this biting, charred-wood, angry-tea scent?

Hmmm.

Now, I could argue that it's a mood thing. That when I'm busy and grumpy and rushing around, I want something sharp and bracing. But that ignores the fact that I've actually been finding L'Eau Rare Matale very comforting. It doesn't feel like a challenge, it feels like a friend. When I did take a moment to put on some perfume, I not only chose this one, I put on a lot of it, doubling or tripling my usual two sprays.

A side thought comes to me - I recently saw a reference to the Little Brown Dress Project, a project where a woman made a brown dress, and wore it every single day for a year. I find myself comparing L'Eau Rare Matale to the brown dress. Both brown, both earthy and simple and lacking in frills and glitter, but also both with a distinctive style, and just a tiny bit of a "you wanna make something of it?" attitude. Maybe I should try wearing L'Eau Rare Matale for a year.

Very funny. It's just the lemon drops talking. But all the same, it's interesting that this, of all things, is my too-rushed-for-perfume perfume. I'll have to think it over some more.

Image: By Maylene Thyssen, Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

Mmmm, tea...

I'm surprised to see that I didn't include this fragrance back when I wrote my post about my mythical reduced fragrance wardrobe. It's become an essential part of my perfume wearing habits, perfect in any weather.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

Ahhh. This one remains perfect, in all seasons.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: By Evan Swigart. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale. And Cat Of The Day, of course.

This seems to be the first warm-weather scent to come back into favor when the weather starts to turn. There are weeks and weeks of winter left, but I'm enjoying it all the same.

In considering this not-yet-over blogging/writing dry spell, I realize that while I'm not writing a thing, I am reading--in January, I knocked off eight books and I'm munching my way through three more simultaneously. Maybe that's the answer--maybe my brain only supports incoming or outgoing, and not both at once.

Image: Frances Simpson. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Assorted. And MIA bottle.

First, I wanted to wear Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale. But the bottle's missing. Gone. Nowhere to be found. This is not normal. My bottles live in very specific places, and I've never misplaced one before. I did go traveling recently, but I brought a decant. So I'm at a loss. Do we have some thieving and now really good-smelling mice?

So instead, I wore L'Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two. Yes, it's a lovely scent, yes, it's perfect for the fall weather, blah blah blah. But scent cravings are not transferable, and I wanted L'Eau Rare Matale.

Then I took a shower before an evening appointment in close quarters with strangers, so I put on a little Pacifica Tuscan Blood Orange solid, for minimal projection and sillage and therefore minimal potential annoyance.

But where's that bottle?!

Review Roundup for L'Eau Rare Matale: is here and for Tuscan Blood Orange is here and for Tea for Two is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale. And back to the handkerchiefs.

I didn't dare attack my angry sinuses with a relatively unknown fragrance today, so I sprayed on smooth, clear, L'Eau Rare Matale. It worked beautifully. The new bottles stand by, all proud and shiny, waiting for their chance.

Meanwhile I'm considering a handkerchief purchase. I've been planning, for a while, to become a Handkerchief Person rather than a Kleenex Person. It seems so much more dignified. I'm no doubt influenced by Judith Martin's assertion that, "Weeping into paper is disgusting; weeping into fine linen is romantic drama." I'm planning on sneezing, not weeping, but still.

I have ten or so handkerchiefs already, some vintage (from my own family), some nice big modern cotton squares, but that's just enough for special occasions. Because I'm not an Ironing Person, I need enough for a month, so that I can wash and iron the whole batch all at once and then put the iron away for thirty days.

I'm tempted to declare this a collection and hunt down some more vintage, but will I really use those? Gently dabbing a barely perspiring brow with someone's carefully handcrafted embroidery and hemstitching is one thing, but is it proper to sneeze into vintage?

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTE: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

A day of paperwork and no perfume. An evening of Babylon 5 and L'Eau Rare Matale. So, improvement.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: By Tom Ventura. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

Ahhh.

Sweet Tea may be an old friend, but I love this one so much more.

Image: By David Wilmot. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

Ahhh. Cool refreshing burned wood.

Don't ask me how that makes sense. I don't know. But I still love it.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

It was hot. L'Eau Rare Matale smelled good. But no new insights, so I provide an overheated cat to look at.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: By Maliangkay. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

This fragrance is oddly perfect under almost any circumstances. In autumn, smoke and tea are always welcome. In winter, the vapors and the charred wood cut through the emptiness of the cold. In spring, it's sharp and bright and has that bug-killing vibe. On a hot day like today, all the heat of the charred wood vanishes, replaced with a breeze-like mood.

It's sober enough to feel appropriate on a formal occasion, but not so ornate or pretty that it's out of place with muddy garden gear. It would feel a bit out of character with a swoopy sundress, but in a pleasantly contrasting way, like a fine suit accessorized with a Mickey Mouse watch.
Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: By Bestvintage. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

So today is L'Eau Rare Matale (delicious burned wood and tea) again. Dark, bitter, and a little grumpy. Yum.

Maybe if I keep wearing this, I'll keep remembering to wear it. If you see what I mean.

Image: By Sandivas. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

For some reason, this one surprises me every single time I wear it. I always remember it as clear water and clean gentle tea, and, well, no. Burned wood. Bitter tea. Sometimes something a bit harsh-herbal, in the bug-killing realm. And this time I did catch the tiniest trace of the "white flowers" that are listed in the notes.

And I love it. But I never remember, between wearings, what it really smells like, so I wear it far too seldom.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: By Mike Peel (www.mikepeel.net). Wikimedia Commons

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

Bitter, bitter tea. And charred wood. Sounds awful, doesn't it? But it's... well, lovely is the wrong word. There's nothing remotely feminine or softly pleasing about this. It is what it is. But I like it.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale

I didn't want to wear nothing at all, but Himself is not a big fan of perfume, so dousing myself with a cloud of some dense romantic floral in honor of Valentine's day seemed not quite right.

So just a little touch of tea. And a picture of a pretty tea house. That is all.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Photo: By Peter Clarke. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale, and a minor tea roundup

This is a tea fragrance, but it's not redundant with any other tea fragrance that I've tried. It's much darker than the bright, sugary American South iced tea of ElizabethW Sweet Tea. It's missing the floral and green tea notes of L'Artisan Parfumeur's The Pour Un Ete, replacing them with darker, stronger black tea. It's far less friendly than the warm, affable, winter-spices scent of L'Artisan Parfumeur's Tea for Two, and more bitter than the bright sunshine of L'Occitane's Bergamot Tea. It doesn't have the pleasant herbal meadow notes of Lorenzo Villoresi Yerbamate or the soft, creamy florals of Hermessence Osmanthe Yunnan. It does have a very close relationship, to my nose, with Parfumerie Generale Harmatan Noir, which I've already discussed in embarrassingly rhapsodic detail.

It's not particularly eager to please, and I seem to fall for that kind of fragrance. It has an uncompromising, medicinal-but-all-the-same-pleasant edge that reminds me of... OK, I was going to say thyme, but I went to LuckyScent to read the list of notes, and I see sage. Yes that's what I'm smelling.

My limited expertise in teasing out notes is no match for the rest of this one. There's tea, of course. And a tangy note that takes the role of citrus with tea, but isn't citrus - maybe it's the bergamot, mixing with the sage. "Burnt woods" is listed, and I do indeed get a charred note - not sweet woodsmoke, but bitter burned carbon. It claims to include white flowers, but I don't get the faintest trace of this note - to me, it's entirely non-floral.

It's one of my few season-independent fragrances - in the winter I rarely want a "refreshing" fragrance, but this is an exception. This is a solid favorite, one that I would wear quite frequently if I weren't constantly sampling.

Oh! Review Roundup! This is reviewed at Perfume-Smellin' Things and Now Smell This and IndiePerfumes.

There's also, by the way, a related fragrance called Hyperessence Matale that's said to tweak the proportions a bit, away from tea and toward the flowers, bergamot, pepper, and so on. I intend to smell it one of these days, but I don't really want less tea, so I'm not waving my arms too frantically to get my hands on it.

Photo: By Editor At Large. Details and license at Wikimedia Commons. Click for details.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale Harmatan Noir (And L'Eau Rare Matale, and The Grass Is Greener)

I want this. It would be wrong, because I already own L'Eau Rare Matale, and they're very similar. But I still Want.

They're both tea and crushed stone and sun and water and wind. And they both yearn. But they're not the same.

(Warning: Rhapsodizing follows.)

L'Eau Rare Matale is sitting on the gravel bank of a stream fed from melting snow, dabbling your feet in the shock of the water. The light flickers as the leaves move in the breeze, and you're leaning your head back to catch just a little more sun on your face, to dry the splashes and feel your skin warm. There's tea, icy  and stern. L'Eau Rare Matale glories in the cold but still yearns for a little more sun, a little more sweetness.

Harmatan Noir is resting in the shadow of a boulder in the desert, the sun shimmering-hot just a few steps away, the sand still warm against you. You sit very still, waiting for the hot wind to cool the sweat from your skin. The only water is a little tea with sugar and mint, still warm from when you brewed it, not as much as you want but all the more precious for its scarcity. Harmatan Noir yearns for coolness and water and brighter air, while still taking pleasure, catlike, in being soaked in heat.

Harmatan Noir yearns for L'Eau Rare Matale's world, if only for a moment, and L'Eau Rare Matale is just as eager to change places. And when I wear one, I want to smell the other.

Review Roundup: For Harmatan Noir, Legerdenez and Perfume Posse and PereDePierre and Perfume-Smellin' Things. For L'Eau Rare Matale, Now Smell This and Perfume-Smellin' Things.

Photo: Flr0002, Wikimedia Commons. Click for details.