Scentzilla!

A while back, those wacky gals from Perfume Posse wrote a post describing their picks for genius and evil genius perfumes, and invited me to share my own. I thought I’d match up each perfume to a specific genius (evil or otherwise) and the first one I thought of was The Brain from the now-gone Warner Bros. cartoon “Pinky and The Brain.” But then I got the theme song for the cartoon stuck in my head. Now all I can think of is…

They’re Pinky and The Brain,
Yes, Pinky and The Brain
One is a genius
The other’s insane.
They’re laboratory mice
Their genes have been spliced
They’re dinky
They’re Pinky and The Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain
Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain
Brain!

Before each night is done
Their plan will be unfurled
By the dawning of the sun
They’ll take over the world.

They’re Pinky and The Brain
Yes, Pinky and The Brain
Their twilight campaign
Is easy to explain.
To prove their mousey worth
They’ll overthrow the Earth
They’re dinky
They’re Pinky and The Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain
Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain

NARF!

I additionally wanted to write a brief post with some summer fragrance suggestions. So, here are my Brain summer perfumes, which are genius, and my Pinky summer perfumes, which are insane. Obviously, one can’t help but love them both. Okay: so *I* can’t help but love them both.

Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain… Brain!

1.) Compagnia Delle Indie ~ Donna. It is so fresh, so lovely, and a perfume I always keep out to be handy, because I wear it too often to put in the dark of a cabinet. It’s my number one compliment-getter, and as a compliment-whore, I am deeply gratified by that.

2.) i Profumi di Firenze ~ Ambra del Nepal. The simplicity and vibrancy of the scent feels refreshing in summer. It’s a great choice for those who love amber-vanilla fragrances, but have a tendancy to wear those notes as cloying during hot humid days.

3.) Hermes ~ Terre d’Hermes. A single elegant line is the feature of this scent’s development, and while it may seem to be plain, I find it a terribly satisfying fragrance.

4.) Carven ~ Ma Griffe vintage parfum. Normally, I might not suggest a discontinued and vintage version of a fragrance, but the old Ma Griffe is rather easily located (thanks eBay!) Its clean green and spicy character refreshes and awakens me on sleepy sunny days.

5.) Vicky Tiel ~ Sirene. Sirene is perfect for summer evenings, when the wind starts to pick up and the hot cement in the city finally begins to cool. Sirene is the perfume made especially for perfume-lovers. The complexity inside it is one you have to grow to love, and once you do, you are forever hooked on it. Rose and peony, violet, and a smidge of vanilla, all cower under a sharp blade of powder. Sirene plays as if it were punk music: in your face, loud, and without apology. But this punk music is played by skilled musicians with nuanced phrasing. Think The Clash rather than the Sex Pistols.

NARF! The lovably insane Pinky

1.) Versace ~ The Dreamer. In a comment at Perfume Posse, I described it thusly: “On me it’s neither ‘caramel-leather heaven’ nor ‘auto-parts-Tootsie-roll hell.’ It’s weirder and better. I’d say it’s made of Wrigley’s gum, Good n’ Plenty candies, and big old pine trees, and … gah, I dunno, I guess for me, it’s a candy shop that’s been improbably located in the middle of Mt. Hood National Forest.” You’d think with the crazy notes that it would smell like a tangled jangly mess of nerves, but… it doesn’t. It’s one of the most original “men’s” fragrances ever made, and certainly a fantastic fragrance for women.

2.) Alan Cumming ~ Cumming. Oh how do I love thee, Cumming? I could not begin to count the ways. It is my number one favorite scent for summer. There is nothing better for me than to spray on this cooling, earthy concoction to bring back the fragrant sensation of rain-splashed Pacific Northwest winter mornings. It was my favorite release of 2005, and it is one of my favorite perfumes ever. I LURVE it.

3.) Wickle ~ Chestnut & Vetiver. The combination of these two notes is scrumptious. Perhaps a little random or weird sounding, but this fragrance is nothing but fun for me. It worked on me during the cooler months, and it’s been working well for me on hot days, too. It’s not fancy, but it kicks ass.

4.) Serge Lutens ~ Arabie. Arabie is often known as sweet dessert-laden fragrance. It may sound counter-intuitive, but this scent is a summer fave of mine. Why? Because it smells gawd-awwwwful on me during the colder seasons. When I try to wear it in winter, the whole thing smells like some funky industrial cleaner. It’s as if Arabie REQUIRES the heat of June, July, and August to work on me. And boy does it. Somehow it wears as sweet without sugar, and it’s gourmand inflections wear as gently spicy-nutty without reminding me of actual food.

5.) Comme Des Garcons ~ Odeur 53. I can’t place this scent anywhere in particular. Odeur 53 creates nothing but utter abstractions. New car, computer keyboards, formica counter tops. And yet, despite the industrial suggestions, it’s quite a light, rather airy floral fragrance that also suggests the tops of daisies, dandilion bouquets, lilies and jasmine. It is honestly the weirdest of all these “Pinky” summer picks, and almost as random as Pinky’s responses to the question The Brain asks him during every episode… “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?”

Here are some properly written “Genius and Evil Genius” essays by other bloggers:

• Perfume Posse
• Perfume Smellin’ Things
• Scenteur7

EDIT: And, like a dolt, I forgot one: Cait’s timely post on Genius Summer Scents.

Video from youtube.com. Top image from duryea.org and second from clampettstudio.com

Imagine if honeysuckle was Napoleon, leading a powerful army of vanilla behind it. That all sounds well and good at first,

That, unfortunately, is how I wear Givenchy Organza. (Organza is credited to Sophie Labbe, via Basenotes, because Givenchy’s website is useless.) No matter how many chances I give Organza, it ends up meeting its Waterloo, in the loo, under running water from the faucet. I am sick with envy over those who carry it off well. On some folks, it smells airy and sweet - divine, even. A touch of incense is present on my skin, which would possibly provide some relief, but it’s buried under a pile of sugary florals, vanilla, and ambery woods. On others this touch of spicy incense smells seductive. On me? About as happy as cannon wheels stuck and sinking in mud. Sure, it technically can go off, but it doesn’t work so well when it encounters my skin.

I was encouraged by Givenchy’s earlier limited edition release of their Amarige Millesime 2005 (an excellent blend of extra mimosa into original Amarige) that I might fare better with the new Organza Millesime. Perhaps this Millesime version, a blend of a specific jasmine crop from India into the original formula, might win me over.

The Organza Millesime sadly is not nearly as successful as the Amarige 2005. The promised jasmine is indeed featured prominently, and quite loudly so in the first half hour of wear. To me, many jasmine notes begin (and end, too) clean like laundry detergent. In this fragrance, I have to wait until the laundry’s done before I can perceive the other notes. Ahhh, there it is, Organza, lurking in the dry down finally, but it’s ligher and certainly less sugary than the original. Perhaps the addition of jasmine is Organza’s land war in Russia: it’s not defeated, but weakened and thinned out by the effort. As a result, I think the Millesime version would be a nice choice for those who would like Organza original if only it didn’t wear so heavy and oppressive on them. It also might prove interesting to those who are already fans of the fragrance and would welcome a summer-appropriate twist on it. However, if you love that deep sweetness of Organza, I think this version will come as a disappointment.

The price of this LE doesn’t bite too hard, because like the Amarige Millesime, it is only nominally more expensive than a bottle of the regular stuff. I’ve yet to see it on store shelves, but it is available online via Sephora.com.

Images poorly “photoshopped” by me. Honeysuckle bit comes from thegardenhelper.com, Napoleon paintings from pk.ac.th and fuenterrebollo.com, respectively.

Laurent’s response to my perfume proposal is now published at Made by Blog. I will post my letter back to him on Friday!

Lanvin introduced Vetyver in 1964, at a time when many other perfume houses at the time were also introducing vetiver fragrances.

With the original Vetyver, Lanvin spiked the grassy green fragrance with a tenacious lemon note, but differentiated theirs with a suprising and woody nutmeg undertone. To my modern sensibility, Vetyver seems as if it were inspired by lemon verbena, because the lemon aroma is so unextracably twisted into the grasses. It is a scent filled with the cheery possibilites of summer, with the spiciness adding a layer of dressy sophistication.

From the grass-stained knees of playing on suburban lawns, to wearing the “Sunday best” during an afternoon stroll in the park, Vetyver would fit anyone’s idea of the perfect sunshine day.

In 2003, Lanvin definitively abandoned this bright but spicy version with the introduction of a “more modern” version. Via Lanvin’s official site, perfumer Francois Robert is credited with the work on the new Vetyver. (Lanvin’s site is shockingly… helpful, especially the perfume history timeline. Informative even, compared to some corporate sites.) To a certain extent, it is less “modern” and more “trendy,” sporting an aquaceous character, albeit with softly sweet florals in the heart. Only a fleeting glimpse of the spiciness that made the original so intriguing occurs. However, the base in Vetyver ‘03 reveals an nice, noticable musky cedar flourish in the dry down that the vintage lacks.

I rather do like this newer version, too. It’s the scent of heading into the garden on a blue morning, still wet from a night rain, and plucking up ripe cucumbers from the damp plants and spongey earth. Like most vetiver scents, I find it cooling and relaxing. I’m willing to bet it can be picked up for a virtual song at the discount online sites or eBay, too.

The two Vetyvers are utterly dissimilar, but both are easy and enjoyable to wear. Either one should make refreshing summer perfumes for members of either gender, just ignore that both are pegged as “masculine” scents. The funny thing with the new Vetyver is that if someone simply waved a scent strip of it under my nose without telling me what it was, and demanded I label it, I would totally guess that it must be “feminine.” There’s a softness and complexity to it that one doesn’t always encounter with men’s perfumes.

It seems a pity Lanvin didn’t choose to continue with the vintage Vetyver, and then offer their “more modern” Vetyver as a seperate fragrance. *Sigh*

And apropos of NOTHING, I present to you… the Top 11 Ways To Avoid Hamster Attacks.

Top two images from metmuseum.org, and are both details from paintings by Childe Hassam (one of my personal favorite artists, actually.) The one at left top is from his Central Park, 1892, and the second on the right is from his In the Park, 1889. Third image of my dog exploring the dense garden forest, and emerging from the hanging rainforst vines of tomato plants. Well, when you’re only “half a dog tall” (Dav Pilkey), it at least SEEMS like a forest.