SOTD: Scentless Saturday

Today, I wore no scent.

But I dressed like a girl.

Which led to this post.

Which led to this other post.

So I didn't wear perfume, but I wrote a lot.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Rambling: The Hobby Cycle

I used to collect stamps. Off and on. And it's the "off and on" that interests me today. Though I warn you in advance that my thoughts below don't come to a conclusion.

Sometimes, for months at a time, stamps were the most fascinating thing imaginable. I dug through Scott's guide, and got stamp magazines, and debated who to order approvals from, and read Nassau Street and Stamp Collecting For Fun And Profit again, and tried to create what I thought of as "real" album pages, with typed or carefully lettered information about each stamp. And I'd buy cheap stamp mixtures from Woolworth's, and ever so carefully soak all the stamps off and dry them nice and flat and poke them into my stock book with stamp tongs, and reorganize and reorganize and reorganize them again.

And then, one day, suddenly, stamps would become incredibly boring. Little pieces of paper that people once used to send letters? Who could care about that? And I'd put all the stamp collecting stuff away. Then, a few months or a year later, the cycle would turn and stamps would be fascinating again.

Sometimes the stamps would give way to other hobbies, but more often, all of my interests would wax and wane at the same time. I'd either be bouncing delightedly from shiny thing to shiny thing, or I'd be sitting back watching the world go by. This sounds rather like depression cycles, but during those sitting back times I don't think that I was sad, I just didn't see any particular need to rush out and find things to change. I read books and watched television and ate food, and that was good enough. It wasn't as nice as the shiny things, but it was fine.

Right now, I seem to be in a waxing hobby cycle. I just took up knitting. As mentioned in The Other Blog, I'm threatening, as of today, to take up sewing again. I'm wandering through LuckyScent wanting to buy every perfume I see. I'm making plans to learn to make the perfect shrimp salad, of all things, with the shrimp properly cooked with their shells on, and homemade mayonnaise. I keep having vague thoughts of taking up wintersowing and propogating weird and rare seeds.

What I want to know is, what inspires the hobby cycles? What inspired this one? I know that I started this blog last October out of a vague feeling that I'd been staring at the world too long, and that it was time to get up and find something shiny to chase. I don't know if that creative effort sparked all the others, or if it was the beginning of a cycle that was on its way.

What about you folks? Does your creativity also cycle between idleness and frenzied activity?

Image: By NobbiP. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Nothing. And time to nap.

Weekend! Weekend! Weekendweekendweekend!

Sadly, I was so focused on getting my work done that I forgot to wear anything scented. But did I mention that it's the weekend?

Woohoo!

Image: By Donik Fink. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Miller Harris Fleurs de Bois

The sample box was bulging, so I poured it out, threw out the empties, and looked for something new to try among the vials that had been hiding in the bottom. I chose Miller Harris Fleurs de Bois, because I couldn't remember anything about it, including why I bought it.

Looking up the notes list cleared up that question: Galbanum, grass, lemon, green mandarine, rosemary, rose, jasmine, iris, oak moss, patchouli, sandalwood, vetiver, myrrh and birch. Yum. The only thing wrong with that list is the myrrh.

Unfortunately, myrrh is often enough to ruin any fragrance for me, and it comes dangerously close to ruining Fleurs de Bois. I love the sharp green, and the subtle, un-candy citrus. The herbal bite of the rosemary and patchouli. The flowers - though I'd like a little more distinction between the rose and jasmine. The powdery texture that I believe comes from the iris, and the darkness that probably comes from the oakmoss. And something, probably the wood, giving it depth and structure. I imagine it as a stack of translucent, floating silky layers.

But then there's the myrrh, popping up through the middle with a Nelson Muntz Ha ha!

I can't tell if I'm going to get past it. This could, for all I know, be the fragrance that teaches me to love myrrh, surrounding it, the way it does, with so many lovely notes. I'll know after a few more wearings.

Review Roundup: Fragrantica and The Scented Salamander and Basenotes and A Rose Beyond The Thames and +Q Perfume Blog.

Link Roundup: Miller Harris (interview).

Image: By Tcbaz. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Tom Ford Velvet Gardenia

From the beginning, my sampling of Tom Ford Velvet Gardenia has been about the beeswax. I want a beeswax perfume. Not a honey perfume - that's different, and honey always goes urinous on me. Velvet Gardenia rarely, maddeningly rarely, produces an absolutely perfect beeswax note, so for months and months I debated buying a bottle.

Now it's been discontinued and the bottle option is gone (if you know of someone who still has bottles, don't tell me!), and I'm down to the large decant option. I'm wearing what's probably the third-to-last wearing from my small decant. And for the first time I'm asking myself, beeswax or no beeswax, do I like the gardenia part?

Yes. I do.

I see why others dislike it. It's cloyingly sweet, with a medicinal edge. And there's a bit of a ripe-dairy vibe - that's probably the note that people smell as blue cheese. This is not a fresh, dewy flower with a lovely drop of morning dew, it's an overheated flower that's starting to decay.

Yum.

Yes, I'm strange. I'm the one that considers "smells like mothballs" to be a reason to seek out a perfume, remember? In fact, I can see the mothball/rotting-meat perfume (Tubereuse Criminelle) and Velvet Gardenia as being cousins, capering in surreal but oddly beautiful costumes, surrounded by a crowd that's keeping their distance from the medicinal vapors, but still can't help but watch in fascination.

Decant time. Yep.

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Parfumerie Generale Iris Oriental. And Statistics.

Today I wore Parfumerie Generale Iris Oriental. Lovely, incense-dusty, starts out dry and dries down toward sweet. I'm considering a bottle. But how often would I wear it?

That makes me consider, how often do I wear anything? I've been logging almost every perfume-consuming day since I started this blog in October. I realized today that, hey! my tag counts give me an approximate idea of how much I've worn each fragrance. ("Approximate", because sometimes I tag a post based on a mention of a fragrance, rather than a wearing.)

So what have I been wearing? The top ten are:

• Serge Lutens Un Lys
• Chanel Cristalle
• Bois 1920 Sushi Imperiale
• Parfumerie Generale L'Eau Rare Matale
• Parfumerie Generale Tubereuse Couture
• Issey Miyake A Scent
• Parfumerie Generale Cadjmere
• Chanel Cuir de Russie
• Chanel No. 19
• Fendi Theorema

The most wearings for any scent, in the ten months since I started the blog, is eleven. That suggests that I shouldn't own more than a decant of anything. Let's just ignore that fact and move on quickly.

Parfumerie Generale is heavily represented - that's no surprise. I wouldn't have expected Un Lys to lead the pack, but it is an all-season fragrance, while Cristalle and Sushi Imperiale are seasonal. No. 19, my favorite, was several positions down from the top, but that's logical - I'm very protective of its scent associations, and generally save it for special occasions.

Issey Miyake A Scent is an unexpected entry in the top ten - I would have said that I mildly like this scent and only bought it to support the "green" trend. But it appears that I'm quite fond of it.

Cuir de Russie is the only fragrance in the top ten that I don't own in a full bottle. I shy away from the huge Thermos-sized bottle, but maybe I should break down and buy myself a one-ounce decant, and find a pretty old-fashioned atomizer to put it in. Or maybe I should just buy the Thermos and run around town forcing half-ounces on everyone who's ever expressed an interest in perfume. (Postal Regulation Phobia bites me again; without that, I could do a bottle split and keep the bottle.)

What aren't I wearing? What "investment" scents could have been skipped? Well, when I want incense, Paestum Rose can't compete with Serge Noire.  Cuir Venenum loses to Daim Blond or, when I want something less sweet, Cuir de Russie. Original Vetiver loses the battle with Vetiver Tonka. Cedre Sandaraque fails to beat the simpler Art of Shaving Sandalwood.

I remember loving Cuir Venenum and Cedre Sandaraque, so I'm going to resolve to wear them more often, until they find their niche. Paestum Rose and Original Vetiver, on the other hand, may be bottles that I'm ready to let go. If I could do so without mailing them, that is.

I still want that bottle of Iris Oriental. But the numbers have me persuaded that that would be Wrong. We'll see how long this sensible phase lasts.

Review Roundup for Iris Oriental: Is here.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Rambling: Last Saturday. Well, Sunday.

I bought girly sandals.

Full price.

This doesn't, I realize, sound like a big deal. Not like, say, "I bought a pony cart" or "I bought a hobby farm". It's just girly sandals.

And they're not all that girly. They don't have a dozen little strappy straps, or glitter, or beads, or heels, or any of those extra girly attributes. They're just a nice little pair of flat black strappy sandals.

But, see, I never bought real girly sandals before. I usually buy shoes that cover my whole foot. The one pair of clumpy, practical sandals that I do own were purchased just to have shoes that I could wear with a skirt, without socks. They fill a functional checkbox category.

But I got these sandals yesterday because they look nice. They're an entirely fashion-based wardrobe purchase. And that's not normal for me.  I've discussed my lack of talent in the girly world. And my recent reaction to a book about (gulp) clothes.

And there seems to be a slow change happening. Linen shirts. Bangle bracelets. And a shell, of all things - I bought something sleeveless?! Oh, and a pretty little purse. No, two pretty little purses. And I intend to look at winter skirts when they come in, rather than when they go on sale. (Unless it's already too late?)

And now girly sandals. Things are changing. Maybe the aliens are taking over my brain.

Image: Wikimedia Commons

SOTD: Le Labo Patchouli 24

Himself hates patchouli. Yes, he disapproves of perfume, but he hates patchouli. And notes that you hate are always easier to detect than notes that you love. So while everyone else smells birch tar in Patchouli 24, and I smell tea leaves, Himself smells patchouli.

I like patchouli, but not enough to regularly make Himself flee. So I won't be buying a bottle of this one. Or of Parfumerie Generale Intrigant Patchouli. Or Bond No. 9 New Haarlem. Or Comme des Garcons Luxe Patchouli. Note hatred is good for the perfume budget.

Of course, that leaves more room for, say, gardenia...

Review Roundup: Is here.

Image: By Mathias Degan. Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: Shiseido White Rose

Himself doesn't like perfume. Doesn't approve of perfume. Nevertheless, Himself presented me with a vial of Shiseido White Rose from The Perfumed Court, because I'd been rambling on about it. Have I mentioned that I'm very fond of Himself?

From what little I've read about Japanese perfumes, I expected this to be a quiet, retiring perfume, the kind that you have to sniff right at the skin.

I was wrong. I'm wearing one drop on one wrist, and it's wafting a an intense cloud of scent to my nose as I type. Digging for more information, I discover that this is less surprising than I would have thought - the scent was created in 1954, and Chandler Burr refers to it as an "absolutely classic scent".

But if you've been reading all the fuss about this perfume - the one that Chandler Burr also called "astonishingly beautiful", the one that you can only get from Japan, the one with the alarming price - you don't care about all that. You want to know what it smells like, right?

It smells like a rose. That sounds pretty basic, but it's rare that a rose perfume simulates the experience of smelling a living rose, warm in the sun. Real roses are peppery and spicy and green and tart and, most importantly, complicated. They have more notes than I, at least, can get my mind around.

And so does Shiseido White Rose. It's lovely, but I can't get my mind around it, or describe it properly for you. I can tell you that it's one of those scents that's so fine that the sensation of drowning is acceptable - like A La Nuit or like the queen, No. 19 parfum. As it develops, it grows less intense, but not less interesting - all of the complexity of the rose is still there, it's just quieter, as if the sun's gone behind a cloud.

And it is all rose - this is a soliflore, with nothing else in the mix. It might, finally, be my rose. There's plenty left in the vial, so I'll let you know after a few more tries.

Review Roundup: Pink Manhattan and MaterialeClare and surely there must be more discussion? I'll update if I find more.
Edited to add Bois de Jasmin.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

SOTD: None. And shopping postponed

Today was supposed to be Last Saturday. Well, it was Last Saturday, but it was supposed to be shopping Last Saturday. But I spent the day divesting, instead of acquiring - there's a big glob of stacked-up junk in the front hall waiting to be trashed or donated or Freecycled.

But when we miss Last Saturday altogether, we often redefine it as Last Sunday. And on Sunday we're having lunch at our traditional Sunday restaurant, which happens to be at the mall.

Bwahaha?

Image: Wikimedia Commons.