In Which I Sail on a Sea of Molten Woods, and Don't Like It Much

Hmmmph. I loved Bois des Iles, and I loved Feminite du Bois, and I really liked Secret Obsession, and so I was developing an idea that I liked woods, in general. Subsequent to this, I decided to try more woods, and I developed a deep interest in trying 10 Corso Como. To round out the sandalwood experience, I also ordered up a sample of Bois de Santal, by Keiko Mecheri, whose Ume I appreciate.

I think it's cedar that I like, or maybe I just need different sandalwoods. Perhaps I should have remembered my unfortunate experience with Esteee Lauder's molten-wood experience, Sensuous, which left me with the unnerving experience of having my arm smell like furniture varnish.

10 Corso Como is a decided disappointment. I really liked the idea of liking it--it comes with lots of accessories, like lotion and bath oil and solid perfume, and it's all in neat little retro deco packaging--like, how cute is that bottle? But it doesn't smell smoky or incensey as advertised, it smells like raw wood, and develops an unpleasantly screechy sulphurous note when the geranium topnotes wear off. I just don't yike it. Now, I did have a problem with Feminite du Bois until I got used to it--this could just be a matter of educating my nose--but I don't think so. I think I just don't like this stuff very much.

Today I am wearing the Mecheri Bois de Santal slathered on, and I can hardly smell it. There's a faint sandalwood whiff--bland and sulphurous--and that's about it. The flowers and musk advertised hardly appeared.

Hmmm. Starting to think the sandalwood is a dead end.

Developing an open nose

Similar to an open mind, but you know, a nose.

This evening I have a dab of Eau d'Italie's Bois d'Umbrie on one wrist, and I'm considering it. My first impression of Bois d'Umbrie, a couple of months ago, was that it was harsh and hideous, like whiskey with raw wood in it, plus that disconcerting black olive note that Eau d'Italie likes so much.

It's still a puzzling smell to me, but I'm much happier with it now. It still smells like whiskey and wood--the smell I'm identifying seems to be rotting wood under moss, with a sort of boozy kick to it. A very browny green smell.

I think I'm developing a broader scent palate now, and smells that I initially rejected as being not 'perfumey' enough now seem interesting or attractive.

I like it, (B d'U), but I don't know what to do with it. I couldn't wear it, I don't think, not like a perfume. It would be sexy on a man, but I don't think my husband can be persuaded. I suppose I will keep a little vial of it, and sniff it occasionally on fall evenings.

Bois des Iles

This is absolutely beautiful.

Made by a Russian emigre, of course, how else could I love it so much, and full of woods and flowers. On me, with the EDT, I'm also getting an odd touch of soap, which I don't mind at all. It seems to wear close to the skin, and fade a touch fast. I'm going to get a sample of the parfum and see how that works for me.

It starts woodsy and clear--I've heard that some people find it harsh, which I don't at all, and then slowly develops flowers and soft gingerbread spice. It smells warm, mature, confident, a perfume that could go from jeans and denim for a fall walk, to a pretty dress and a formal dinner, to a nightie and gingerbread cookies with a child before bed. It smells goooood. OMG.

Her Fetish Perfume

Les Parfums de Rosine has hacked out their own section of the niche perfumers' market by doing nothing but rose fragrances. I approve. I also approve of their English-language website, which is hilarious. They may just have a translator who is not all that native-fluent in English, but I suspect that at least some of the time they're using computer translation. Add to this the very French method of describing each fragrance in terms of the woman who uses it, and you have some delightfully fun reading. The fragments below don't do it justice. Go and read.

They begin by telling you a little about the perfumer:

Marie-hélène Rogeon was born into a family of perfume makers and her grand grand father Louis Panafieu was creating Eau de Cologne for the Emperor Napoleon III and a famous Pommade des Mousquetaires for his lacquer like finish moustaches.

They also tell you about their production method:

Every product is scrupulously packed by experimented workers.

And they tell you about the perfumes. This is from my favorite description:

A new fragrance for spring, DIABOLO ROSE, a joyful combination of rose and mint.

She always moves. On a fine and fresh face draged out an impertinent smile.
She drinks sparkled waters, mint lemonades (lemon soda flavoured with mint syrup), green ice tea.

She walks in the street with her favorite purse, crouched under her arm like a charm.
She arrests and looks for DIABOLO ROSE, her fetish perfume.

When she was a child, she played diabolo, now she plays another game. To charm amuse her. She attracts attention. And hearts fly.

I've been experimenting with the Rosines to see if they make my rose-loving heart fly. Here's the results from the first five products from the hands of the experimented workers:

1. Zeste de Rose ("On a fresh and delicate note, Un Zest de Rose gives the feeling of being neat.") This is a citrus rose, very fresh and in-your-face to begin with, and developing a sort of tea-rose (or Tea Rose) quality. Almost apple-y, although I don't think there's an intentional apple note. Very summery, clean and not too sweet. I like it.

2. Rose d'Ete ("Rose d’Eté is wearing by a blooming and happy woman whose beauty is natural and sensual.")At first sniff I did not care for this as much as the Zeste. It has lotus, or something, one of those watery-smelling things I usually do not go for at first sniff. It smelled a bit--unfocused. Not so much rose. I kind of shrugged, and went out wearing it--and it bloomed. I was getting lovely wafts of it, and it was mixing in with the wafts from people's gardens as I walked, and it was just cool, and pleasant, and the absolute soul of summer. I REALLY like it. Possible purchase.

3. Rose Kashmirie ("She is so baroque and loves to be exuberant.") This is supposed to be an oriental, with rose attar, and saffron, and God knows what else. A "wintery" rose. I was hoping for a slightly more affordable and functional something-something like the great YOSH Winter Rose disaster. I get baby powder. Nice, slightly rose-scented baby powder, but baby powder all the same. I have put the sample aside, wondering if it may develop better on me during cold weather.

4. Rose de Feu ("Her universe is intimate and is only revealed by the firelight.")
Spicy rose, and I may return to this, because I haven't really worn this all day yet. It is indeed spicy, and seems nice. I suspect it's another cold-weather fragrance. Look for later commentary.

5. Poussiere de Rose ("She may be nostalgic, also she is very active. Her world is the soft elegance of her apartment.") I had to look this one up, "poussiere" means "dust". It's a woodsy, incensey, floral, rather subtle, and it does dry down to a sort of dry quality, which is indeed more like incense dust than powder. It's got some of the qualities I was looking for with the Shaal Nur, and I really do like it.

More to follow--I have ten or eleven of these things to go.