Posted by Kevin
on
7 July 2010
In just a few weeks, a “fragrance battle” will rage in my sunny, hot and dry front yard: tuberose vs. milkweed.
I trust most perfume fanatics know the scent of tuberose; if not, either smell Robert Piguet Fracas or Frédéric Malle Carnal Flower or go to a florist and purchase a few stalks of fragrant tuberose and let the blooms perfume your home.
Many years ago, I ordered some milkweed seeds from an organization that advocates the planting of flowers beloved (utilized) by Monarch butterflies. Those few milkweed seeds thrived, and now, milkweeds would take over my front yard if I let them. Milkweed flowers have a strong, tropical, pollen-rich aroma: there’s a hint of its rival tuberose, a fragrant “flour” note and an interesting mingling of green and “damp loam” aromas. When milkweed blooms, you can’t miss its penetrating, soulful perfume; the fragrance throbs. I categorize milkweed flowers’ scent as ‘poignant’ and ‘spooky’; it follows me like a spirit from my yard into my house and lingers, whispering:“Remember when….”
As I smelled Astier de Villatte Eau Chic by perfumer Françoise Caron for the first time, I was shocked…
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Posted by Kevin
on
6 June 2010
I love incense, but during the last few years, when I burn incense inside the house, the smoke causes me to have sore throats, red eyes…and sneezing cats. I still enjoy incense, but in less “traditional” ways: I burn it outside — on the deck or in the garden; I place open boxes of incense into trunks, closets and cabinets where the sticks and cones scent the spaces for years; I wear incense powders and perfumes; and I burn incense-scented candles.
When it comes to perfumed candles, I mostly buy “French.” Diptyque makes up for its troubles with manufacture (off-center wicks, wax that does not burn evenly) by producing candles in a variety of interesting scents — and the last several Diptyque candles I’ve bought have been generously perfumed. Cire Trudon offers gorgeous scented candles (using perfume-quality fragrances) inside lovely green or red hand-blown glass jars (no phony — “sprayed-on” — colors for their glass containers!)
I thought Cire Trudon made the ultimate candles till I ordered some Astier de Villatte candles from Paris. If I were standing between a crate of Cire Trudon candles and a crate of Astier de Villatte candles and was told: “Choose one crate!” I’d probably pass out from rapid back-and-forth head movements…
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Posted by Robin
on
26 January 2010
Jovan will launch new Satisfaction fragrances for men and women next month:
Now, Jovan enters a new era with the introduction of Jovan Satisfaction…
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Posted by Robin
on
30 May 2009
French tablewear company Astier de Villatte launched a range of scented candles, soaps and colognes late last year. There are three Eaux de Cologne, all developed in collaboration with perfumer Françoise Caron:
L’Eau Chic (shown) ~ “A genuine Françoise Caron original, under its tame exterior lies an explosive character. A subtle balance of white flowers (Ylang-Ylang, sensitive rose, mysterious tuberose) and nervous, fresh intensity from rosemary, thyme, petitgrain citronnier, and lavender…”
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Posted by Kevin
on
13 May 2009
Two of my favorite rosewood-scented products, SABÃO PAU ROSA, Brasil (a soap) and Bois de Rose Eau de Toilette, “disappeared” about 10 years ago. I can’t remember the names of their manufacturers, but I remember their fragrances and have been searching for replacements ever since. The rosewood soaps were bright-red glycerin ovals wrapped in lime-green paper with black-and-white lettering. Bois de Rose was made in Provence and came in pale pink boxes decorated with an old-fashioned drawing of a rosewood tree.
The last time I wore Bois de Rose perfume was on a summertime New Mexico vacation with my friend Susan. I vividly remember our Bois de Rose-scented holiday adventures. After we checked into our rooms at a Taos inn, the owner, while delivering fresh towels, assumed we had switched rooms — SURELY, no man would have so many toiletry items lined up on the bathroom counter mere minutes after arrival. (I especially remember one of those toiletries. It was the Stone Age of self-tanners, and over breakfast one morning, Susan asked me, bluntly, as she looked at my brown kneecaps, grungy ankles and striped calves: “What’s wrong with your legs?” I offered ridiculous excuses…
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