Scentzilla!

I’d received samples of two JAR Fragrances (by Joel Arthur Rosenthal, the jeweler) from a friend on the East Coast a while back, but had eschewed sniffing at them. I told myself no perfume is worth what they are charging. They are of the “if you have to ask, then you will need to sell your body parts on the black market to afford them” variety. Mind you, just a small part, maybe a slice of your liver which will regenerate anyhow. Still? Spendy little bottles they are.

I finally decided to go ahead and try them, since I am trying to work my way through all the samples before I buy anything new for a while. The first one I wore was Diamond Waters. I had in my mind this whole idea of riffing on Adam Smith’s diamond/water paradox, and I swear it was going to be hi-larious (this is where you roll your eyes at me now.) Except? No. This perfume is unspeakably pretty. Crap. No snarky fun for me, I guess. Diamond Waters imparts the lingering sensation of a flower bouquet in a cold chill. However, where many perfumes reveal bouquets a bundle at a time, in this fragrance you sniff at them one by one. Like cinnamon softly dusted over the foam of a cappucino, a spiciness floats above each flower, sometimes it is peppery, and sometimes it is cinnamon and clove-like. It rises off the top of white roses, florist’s carnations, and lily amongst others, which circle past my nose in a strange queue. The base is not a base. Not in the usual manner, that is. It has no weight, no intonations of persistent molecules that nail themselves to the nose. I’d ultimately classify Diamond Waters as a marine scent: a glassy “is it melon, or is it marine” note lingers all through the wear of the fragrance, but it is not ’til the perfume is winding down that I notice it. A touch of cedar seems present to my nose, but it’s invisible, hiding inside the glass of the florist’s refrigerated case. Is it worth the reported $400 for a bottle? Yes. Not that I will be buying it, but if I came into an unexpected windfall, I would.

The other sample she’d passed along my way was the Ferme Tes Yeux. I’d read Robin’s interesting review at Now Smell This , and her description of it being “heavily animalic” both intrigued and scared me. Oh good lord was she ever right - there a such a funk in it that I have to reach for an incident that happened a couple weeks ago in order to properly describe it. We’d gotten help moving from some young strapping lads, and after we’d gotten the heavier furniture moved, we fed them a lunch of beer and bones. Young strapping lads are always hungry anyhow, but after all that lifting they were ravenous, and they gnawed their way through every last barbeque rib we had. We disposed of the eaten ribs in the garbage under the sink, and then completely forgot about them. But a couple days later I walked into the kitchen and was overwhelmed by stench. “Honey, I think some rodent found its way under the crawl space and died there. Can you take a look? It smells like dead animal in here!” That’s when I remembered. Ohhhhh. Yup, dead animal all right. The cooked and eaten remains of barbequed cows and pigs. I guess being a vegetarian, that sort of smell is likely more repellant and foreign to me than to regular meat eaters, but boy was it piquantly strong. THAT is the closest I can approximate to the funk of Ferme Tes Yeux. It is one note among many, however, and as it dries down, the animalic power transforms into a musky green sensation. The green shifts into a honeyed smell, like a cross between natural beeswax and Bit O’ Honey candy. I spot jasmine, and then freesia there, too, which winds around the honeyed note and turns the whole perfume into a floral and indolic romp through the farmyard. Ferme Tes Yeux is crazy. Crazy like a fox, though? Or crazy like crazy? Hard to say. But it’s brilliant, and I know there is someone out there who could wear this as if it were forever meant to be.

JAR Fragrances are not available anywhere BUT JAR boutiques, the adresses of which are the only bits of information one can cull from the official site.