Saturday, January 24, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The two entered Ulta Cosmetics, 130 S. Waukegan Rd., on Jan. 14, but aroused suspicion and were confronted by a store manager. One woman in her 20s opened her empty bag and then abruptly left, while the other bought a comb and soon followed.
Employees found dozens of bar code labels and scissors used to remove them under a shelf, then went outside and saw the women drive off together.
The stolen items included bottles of Coco Mademoiselle, j'adore, Euphoria and Miss Dior Cherie, according to police.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
(I have been brutally enabled by friends...you know who you are...sending me flocks of fragrance...where to begin? How can I say no? Aren't I supposed to just have fun with this?? Gulp gulp gulp.)
No worries. I have been settled by Silences.
BitterGrace has a delightful habit of posting one-sentence reviews over at her blog, BitterGrace Notes. (And only in this moment has the musician in me heard the joke in the title. The gardener in me kept on thinking of bittersweet, and blocked my brain.) Anyway, in her one line review of Jacomo Silences, she both delighted me and reminded me that I had found something intriguing in Silences when I tried it early in my scent development. And that I thought at the time it was something I should come back to when I was more "mature," sniff-wise.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
It’s a beautiful day outside. Snow has been falling for hours. The gentle blanket is at this point becoming a mattress, soon to be an oversized pillow top. The sun is bright whenever the snowfall lessens, it is cold enough for snow but not so cold to be uncomfortable. With so much snow about, one is compelled to slow down, because so many plans and tasks are clearly undoable. Snow games and warm drinks. Happiness and cocoa.
It’s a great day for L’Or de Torrente.
L’Or is flowers with a generous dash of Torani syrup. To me, the syrup is chocolate. Officially, the note is coffee, but I think the combination of vanilla/coffee/angelica/”white amber” has more of an overall chocolate effect.
In fact, if I were doing a pairings, I’d be finding the right chocolate liqueur, and offering that up as a potential member of the flight that accompanies L’Or. You might want to include a special cocktail, blended with a floral and a chocolate. Good old St. Germaine comes to mind; given the fruit notes listed in L’Or, the edible quality of elderflower, and its brightness, are a good companion to that part of the equation. There’s a nice chocolate liqueur, Alumni,* that would do well for that end, though for a third concoction in the flight you could use Kahlua and probably come up with the right concept.
I disagree with Luca Turin, who called L’Or de Torrente a Negroni. A Negroni is gin, campari, vermouth, twist of lemon. I get the lemon, but the Campari is the wrong nose-feel/mouth-feel. Too bitter, too sharp on the tongue. Needs to be a liqueur that hangs out a bit, in the vein of Drambuie or Cuarenta Y Tres. And I quibble with gin, though if you are using a Hendrick’s type, it could work. (Still, the mouth-feel/nose-feel is not thick enough for my experience of L’Or.)
It’s a snow day around here. Perky, but with warm comfort. Try some L’Or de Torrente to go with. Playing in the snow is free; L’or is a veritable bargain, under $30 for 1.7oz at a number of online retailers.
*Alumni may have gone out of production. Drop me a line if you’re in the neighborhood; I’ll pour you a snort and you can see for yourself.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
I spent a fair amount of time with film at one point in my life, so it was easy to have a quick flood of associations, Wim Wenders "Wings of Desire" being foremost among them. I don't know why scholars and critics didn't point to the Powell movie when Wenders released his film, since clearly there are strong parallels between the two.* That aside, I began ruminating on the effect of b&w versus color in film and if there was a way to connect this to fragrance. Motion picture film, mind you, not still photography; scent exists through time, and frequently has a development, whereas a photograph is a frozen moment--even if motion is implicit--for the viewer to linger on, with, within, without. That's what you learn when you make movies: it's not just sound + vision, it's sound + vision + time.
Is there such a thing as a black and white fragrance? I tried at first with the historical angle, but that just doesn't work. It's like the notion that people dream in black and white, and color dreaming was an aberration; dreaming in black and white was more commonly reported in an era when films (and then television) were in black and white. Color has been with us for the duration of our history; its obviously an option for a perfume from any era.
So black and white is more about...what? Focusing on contrast? Emphasizing moments over movement? Filtering out extraneous information so that one examines a particular set of details?
I don't know yet. I'm pondering this. I'll tell you this: It's hard for me to conceive of a white floral that isn't a fragrance that is in "color," soliflore or not. And I'm thinking that maybe Knize Ten is a black and white fragrance--so clearly about that sharp leather that one starts to see the nubbies in the hide. But I'm not convinced.
Maybe if I tried to triangulate it with music...but what is the musical equivalent of color versus black and white?
Sorry...all I'm doing here today is raising questions. Clearly, I'm not done rumbling this around in my head.
*A male character falls to earth, one due to the mistake of an angel, the other an angel himself. Both are in love with a woman on earth. Both need to explain why they should stay on earth. And, for both, earth is full of "information," i.e., in color.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The first thing I note is that on a day when I have a few collected samples in front of me, ready in their mailers, it is the CdG SJ that offers a hint of scent when I take it out of its mailer. And again, a bit more so, when I take the vial out of its protective little sealed bag. By the time I circle back around to try to open the vial--which was, btw, quite tightly stoppered, and required a little extra english to get it open--I have tantalizing little mini-hits coming my way. And what has been suggested by these successively increasing hints turns out to be true of the opening: potent. true violet. dirt. skank. and...space???something air and beyond.
Emphasis at the top on dirt, air, and odd skank.
But, everybody...doo-loo-doo-doo...here comes the sun...well, violet. So what breaks through isn’t all bright, high, and sunshiney, but rather pure, natural, green/purple, lowish down, and refreshing/comfortable. It’s coming.
Now, almost an hour in, I have a most interesting violet on my wrist. It is pretty tightly woven with other elements...something green, something dirt, with that odd ozonic skank dancing about ever so lightly (so lightly that I’m not sure I would have caught it as such had it not been such a prominent voice in the opening). I’d really like to go out smelling like this...reactions might include “Nice...what?,” which I like to think of as a way to describe me. ;)
Good heavens, 1 1/2 hours in, I put my sniffer up...a hint of...soap??? Try again...ah, it seems that was a cumulative impression...when I break it down, it’s everything from before, but it’s like when the vegetables start breaking down in the soup...certain spots in the pot are a little bit of everything.