Scentzilla!

While we here in the States wait to get creeped out of our skin by Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, one fragrance-themed horror flick to consider for Halloween rental is 1940’s The Devil Bat. The Devil Bat stars Bela Lugosi as Dr. Carruthers, a rather congenial seeming sociopath, who devises an aftershave that attracts and triggers bats…

He is thought of as the kind and friendly (it’s always the quiet ones, after all) doctor by the village locals, but he just happens to be a hobby chemist and perfumer in his spare time. A cosmetic firm even sells Dr. Carruthers’ scented products. Yet only the firm’s owners get stinking rich off his work, because Carruthers unwisely accepted a lump sum payment for his “greaseless” shaving lotion formula rather than investing into the firm. He secretly seethes with rage that these men have become wealthy off his work while he thanklessly remains but their employee and a humble village doctor.

Obviously, he must concoct an improbable revenge plan. So Carruthers creates an evil aftershave, then Pavlovs his bunch of bats into killing anyone who wears the aftershave. “Youuu haaaaate… this… strange…. ori-EN-tal fragrance.”

However, these bats have been mutated to become “big and strong” in his secret lab. By zapping them with a perfectly silly looking electrolysis contraption, he tranforms them into gargantuan-sized assassins. The contraption appears to be constructed out of wire clothes hangers, a rejected-design Eames lamp, and an oversized wok (never let it be said that b-movie scientists don’t make the most out of parabolic dishes in their crazy schemes.) Like many mad scientists of the era, he also uses the latest in mad scientist technology: From pointless plastic tubing and paper mache Tesla coils, to variously-sized cathode ray tubes that put on a groovy light show when plotting evil in the labratory, he’s equipped. I guess when you’re a DIY evil genius, you have to make due with what’s implausibly available. Frankly, his whole lab looks like one big fire hazard. But he does wear goggles - remember, safety first! Or second. Possibly third. It’s really kind of an optional rule in the mad lab, isn’t it?

He soon gives his intended victims a try at his aftershave. One complains, “Pretty strong, isn’t it?”, so the doctor soothes him and instructs him to “rub it on the tender part of your neck,” while gesturing where the jugular veins are located. Hee. On cue, the bats commence an attack on the aftershave wearers. Much wild gesticulation of arms and loud screaming ensues. Double hee.

The Devil Bat is not so much scary as it is campy, but hey, some nights you want to watch a good movie, and some nights you simply want to watch a movie.

For a fun review of The Devil Bat, please check out part V of the Self-Styled Siren’s Perfume at the Movies series. The previous posts in the series are just as fun: part I, part II, part III, part IV.

I believe The Devil Bat is in the public domain. Unfortunately, a copy has yet to be uploaded to the generally awesome www.archive.org, which collects works with expired copyrights.

As you can probably tell from the lack of posting, I’m still sick and my nose still is not working properly. I blow my nose, and out pops what looks like alien larvae. It’s not a cold; It’s a full-scale space invasion. Hopefully the cruel alien overlords living in my sinuses will allow me to start smelling again soon.

Anyhow, we’re almost ready for Halloween now, costumes in hand. My son Zeke is going to be Harry Potter, because he loves Harry Potter. My son Henry is going to be a Dumbledore wizard, because he understands hierarchal social organization. Nothing beats out-ranking your brother. My husband and I are dressing up as Muggles, because we are exquisitely cheap bastards.

Last year for Halloween I wrote about Jesus Del Pozo’s Halloween fragrance, which smells sweetly of airy freesia, and is not at all spooky. So this year I’m calling out the hoodoo. If you’d like to learn a little about what hoodoo is, I think the online explanation at mamiwata.com should prove helpful and very interesting.

In 1935, Zora Neale Hurston published a collection of folklore entitled Mules and Men. In the appendix of the book you’ll find a brief list of “Paraphernalia of Conjure,” including a number of scented and perfume items. It seems antithetical (and possibly super offensive) to match commercial fragrances to the listed elixirs and mystic charms, yet I’m going to plow ahead anyhow since it sounds fun. Besides, I’ve attacked the nose aliens with Vicks and TheraFlu with little success, so maybe there’s something in here that will help me drive them out.

“1. Fast Luck: Aqueous solution of oil of Citronella. It is put scrub water to scrub the house. It brings luck in business, pulling customers into a store.”

If I smelled citronella wafting strongly out of a store, the first thing I’d think is “AH! Insect infestation!” and would avoid going in at all costs. I’m sissy like that.

“2. Red Fast Luck: Oil of Cinnamon and Oil of Vanilla, What is set down here are the things most commonly wintergreen. Used as above to bring luck.”

Ooh, this is a hard one. The wintergreen throws a wrench into things, since I can’t think of anything that has all three of those. So I’ll mention two cinnamon and vanilla frags dripping with appeal: Givenchy Organza Indecence, and Galimard Galimar. However, the notes of both Viktor & Rolf Antidote and Jean Paul Gaultier Le Male do include mint, cinnamon, and vanilla, and both are nice choices for a man who wants to get lucky. *ahem*

“3. Essence of Van Van: Ten percent. Oil of Lemon Grass. alcohol. (Different doctors specify either grain, mentholate.’ or wood alcohol), Used for luck and power of all kinds. Is the most popular conjure drug in Louisiana.”

V’tae Green Grass & Sunshine certainly bewitched me, as well as March (Perfume Posse) and Ayala (SmellyBlog). Dunno if it brings luck or power, but it seems to work its power over all of us.

“4. Fast Scrubbing Essence: A mixture of thirteen oils. It is burned with incense for fish-fry luck, i.e. business success. It includes: Essence Cinnamon; Essence Wintergreen; Essence Geranium; Essence Bergamot; Essence Orange Flowers, used also in initiation baths; Essence Lavender; used also in initiation baths; Essence Anice; Essence St. Michael; Essence Rosemary.”

She only lists nine of those thirteen oils, but I think a philosophical fit for it would be Parfums Reichenbach’s Golden Drop, which is a heady thing indeed. Of course, Golden Drop is very vanillic and amber rich, as well as very spiced and floral. It’s also so strong that some people may be compelled to scrub it off fast. Even with only nine elements listed, I have to say, what a frightening combination to use unless you’re a professional perfumer and know what the hell you’re doing…

“5. Water Notre Dame: Oil of White Rose and water. Sprinkle it about the home to make peace.”

I’m going with Sun Moon Stars, Sonia Grojsman’s creation for Karl Lagerfeld. The name seems appropriately cosmic enough to affect karma, with a bonus comet tail of dusty sillage. White rose lurks amongst the floral bouquet, though in parfum strength the fruitier (peachy and orangey) aspects come out more promiently. Oh, not that I’d sprinkle parfum around the house though - wouldn’t that get expensive quick… I think the relatively inexpensive and much more floral edt would suffice, no?

“6. War Water: Oil of Tar in water (filtered). Break a [...?...] of it on the steps wherever you wish to create strife, is sometimes made of creolin in water.”

Oh lordy, oil of tar does sound suitable for war. Let’s go with Thierry Mugler’s A*Men, shall we? Given the strong reactions people take to this one, it does seem a likely candidate to create strife, or at least a little controversy. A*Men is the “masculine” follow-up to his blockbuster Angel.

“7. Four Thieves Vinegar. It is used for breaking up homes making a person run crazy, for driving off. It is sometimes put with a name in a bottle and the bottle thrown into moving water. It is used also to ‘dress’ cocoanuts to kill and drive crazy.”

Heh heh. Killer coconuts. That sounds like the greatest B-movie horror film ever. Attack of the Killer Coconuts! AHHH! And they’re “dressed” in wee hockey masks! They’re crazy! Run!

“8. Egyptian Paradise Seed (Amonium Melegrcta). This is used in seeking success. Take a picture of St. Peter and put it at the front door and a picture of St. Michael at the back door. Put the Paradise seeds in little bags and put one behind each saint. It is known as ‘feeding the saint.’ “

Hm, I’m having a time trying to figure this one out. I find references to it as a sesame seed like product, as well as to strains of cannabis plants. I think the most likely suspect may well be Grains of Paradise (sometimes called Aframomum Melegueta, Amomum Melegueta or Melegueta Pepper) which one can find in… Kenneth Cole? It ain’t a common ingredient, that’s for sure. Maybe you really do just need the seeds themselves here, since Kenneth Cole never really inspired me to seek success at anything. It doesn’t even inspire me to wear it. Besides, I refuse to feed any saints. They never say please first, and have a rude habit of showing up unnannouced in window streaks and toast.

“9. Guinea Paradise seed. Use as above.”

It looks like it’s the same thing as Egyptian Paradise seed, if my guesses are correct.

“10. Guinea pepper. This may also be used for feeding saints; also for breaking up homes or protecting one from conjure.”

Ditto.

“11. White Mustard seed. For protection against harm.”

Harm from whom? Hot dogs? A nice creamy bisque? White mustard is actually yellow to brownish in color, and is what is most commonly used in the mustard preparations we’re all familiar with.

“12. Black Mustard seed. For causing disturbance and strife.”

Yeah, I suspect it would be disturbing to find you keep smelling mustard for no good reason. If I found out someone was littering my home with mustard, there’d be some strife and what for to be had, all right.

“13. Has-no-harra Jasmine lotion. Brings luck to gamblers.”

Hm, luck for gamblers, ay? You know, I’m going to pick Chanel No. 5 body lotion. The whole dubious myth behind the creation of this 1921 scent makes it sound like perfumer Ernest Beaux was taking a gamble when he presented it to Coco Chanel, and look how well that turned out. No. 5 is of course more famous for it’s heady aldehydes than jasmine, but I think it counts. And according to Chanel, equally as dubiously, the number five was allegedly also Coco’s lucky number. I’d say so, yes.

“14. Carnation, a perfume. As above.”

Lots of choices exist to pick from, but I’m going to go with a quasi-recent discovery of mine, a cheap little charmer called Carnation by the Russian perfumery Novaya Zarya. It’s simple and spicy, even if it’s not quite true to the flower. Floris’ famous Malmaison would be another basic but lovely choice, with cool creamy powder intonations accompanying clove goodness. Malmaison is rumored to have been Oscar Wilde’s favorite fragrance, though who knows if it’s true? Alas, he suffers from a surfeit of witicisms to answer for himself in death.

“15. Three Jacks and a King. A perfume. As above.”

I have no idea, but what a marvelous name, no? This name possibly refers to a parlour trick involving those face cards, though I am sure it goes deeper than that. It ain’t a bad hand to have in poker, but given the long history of cartomancy going all the way back to the tarot game, I wonder if it doesn’t go deeper than that. The first think I thought of was the trio of knights charged with protecting the Holy Grail, but it could be anything. Does anyone here have some insight into the significance? Anyhow, looks like one can find incense bearing this name being sold with a quick Googling.

“16. Narcisse. As above but mild.”

As above but mild? I guess it’s only if you need a smidge of luck. I’m having a hard time thinking of a narcissus perfume that might be considered mild. Perhaps Creed’s Love in White? Ach, no - screw mild! Go for a Caron! Consider Infini or Narcisse Noir. Or perhaps K de Krizia, which is not exactly mild, but it’s as crisp as a well-ironed collar and easy to wear.

“17. Nutmegs, bored and stuffed with quicksilver and sealed with wax, and rolled in Argentorium are very lucky for gamblers.”

I am not into craft projects. Let the superstitious Martha Stewarts of the world make it into, like, poisonous little placeholders or keychains or something. Or, if you’re more of a Sandra Lee fan, use them to create a “festive” tablescape! (Those aren’t real quote marks there, they’re sarcastic ones, but no one has invented the sarcasm font yet.) Let’s face it - the mercury (quicksilver) is less deadly than her “cooking.” I mean, taking the packet of powder from boxed mac & cheese slatering it over corn-on-the-cob? Dear god.

“18. Lucky Dog is best of all for gamblers’ use.”

And to think I thought dogs playing poker was just an excuse to paint on velvet. My dog feels lucky when he gets to skip his bath. I don’t recommend that particular odor. Instead, I’ll recommend Buddy Wash for your unlucky dogs, which has a long-lasting deodorizing fragrance, and seems to be quite gentle on my doggie’s sensitive skin. It smells of lavender and mint, which somehow kind of masks the worst bits of wet dog odor, too. I get it at Trader Joe’s, but a number of online retailers also sell it, including the amazingly handy drugstore.com.

“19. Essence of Bend Over. Used to rule and have your way.”

Not gonna touch this one with a ten foot pole. (And will try my best to avoid lame potshots directed at Joe Francis.) But hey, you may wish to check out an apropos post over at Marlen’s place.

“20. Cleo May, a perfume. To compel men to love you.”

I’ve yet to find the perfume that compels men to love me, though I HAVE found that the smell of chile rellenos cooking is a damn powerful aphrodisiac. There is no chile relleno perfume. Dammit.

“21. Jockey Club, a perfume. To make love and get work.”

Uh… wow. “To make love and get work?” Both? At the same time? I guess a gal wears it if she’s in the House of the Rising Sun… I suggest Dana Tabu, conceived of in 1931 by Javier Serra as a “puta” perfume, and delegated to the legendary perfumer Jean Carles. If you’re not sure what a puta means, click here for a dictionary definition.

“22. Jasmine Perfume. For luck in general.”

Good lord, this is such a common ingredient that the choices are many. Some notable perfumes containing jasmine include Caron Nocturnes, Serge Lutens A La Nuit, The Different Company’s Jasmin de Nuit. Vintage perfumes are a wonderful way to discover jasmine as well. Houbigant’s Chantilly, as it gloriously once used to be, smelled indolic way down deep at its base, with a side of leather as well. Jacques Griffe’s Ma Griffe also uses jasmine, and although its spicy green character is what is more often noted about it, it is jasmine which seems to hover like an etherial cloud above the cinnamon, weighty ylang, galbanum, and civet.

“23. White Rose. To make peace.”

Well, besides the afore mentioned Sun Moon Stars, there are other white rose choices. Sheseido’s or Floris’ are named as such, though the Sheseido is so rare as to be impractical, whereas the Floris one you can actually find without much effort.

Significantly, the Anglo/Franco tradition of the language of flowers (especially fetishized during the Victorian era) was understood to symbolize sentiments and feelings that might not be expressed explicitly by using particular flowers or colors of flowers. More complex expressions were conveyed in bouquet form. Predictably, white generally connoted innocence or purity. A white rose might symbolize worthiness or silence, while a white rosebud might say “too young” to know or understand love. Likely, white rose may not have been used soley for its calming aroma, but also to allude to these cryptic meanings. There is an online e-book available of excerpts from The Flowers Personified available online, describing this obsession with floral meanings along and displaying beautiful plates, hosted at Earthly Pursuits.

“24. French Lilac. Best for vampires.”

Now, if this had said, best for repelling vampires I would make some suggestions. But if best for vampires? Why help them out, you know? Plus, if Anne Rice is correct, they sound like a bunch of dandies who don’t need my advice in the grooming department.

You can find a little bit about Zora Neale Hurston and read Mules and Men online by visiting the Mules and Men E-Project

You can find more out about nasal space invaders by visiting a doctor’s office for a regular call when you’re not sick, followed up by a visit to a local school classroom packed with germ-happy, virus-giving 1st graders.

My husband is a generally silly man, prone to the odd verbal tangent. For example -

Me: feeling snacky and rooting around in the refrigerator

Him: “Whatcha looking for?”

Me: “Oh… nothing, I guess…”

Him: “Well, that’s the best place to look for it. I never find anything in there either.”

Since I’ve been sick all week long, and haven’t been able to smell much, I thought I’d ask him for some male grooming recommendations, thinking he’d have a lot to say on the subject. Turns out that wasn’t quite right. Here, in no particular order, are products that get Mr. Katie’s thumbs up, with corresponding and laconic reviews. Don’t let the brevity fool you: he’s super picky and acts like kind of a big baby about which products he uses.

And there you have it - a few products from my husband’s regular rotation. If you want to read a really great men’s lifestyle blog, I would suggest checking out the new-ish Dethroner, which bills itself as “the perfect guide for the imperfect man.” Even I’m utterly addicted, and I’m but an imperfect woman.

Derrik J. Lang, a writer with the AP and also the blogger behind The Slug, recently asked myself and the always funny gals from Perfume Posse to weigh in with our opinions on a smattering of celebrity fragrances for ASAP: Smells like celebrity spirit.

I recently had a chance to speak with Laurent Le Guernec on the phone about our Made by Blog perfume project, as we move into Round 3 of the mods for my proposed fragrance, Auxeos. You can read all about it by clicking here.

My reviews of the Round 2 Mods were posted earlier last month, which can be found by clicking here.

Nothing better exemplifies the balls out, over the top glamor of the 80s than Ysatis. Ysatis was introduced by Givenchy in 1984. Ystais was created by Dominique Ropion, who went on to make a number of other perfumes for Givenchy, as well as some other rather infamously bold fragrances like Carnal Flower (F. Malle) and Angel (T. Mugler.)

This fragrance heaves thick floral notes of mandarine, orange blossom, iris, carnation, and narcissus over a fantastically fecund base. And for me, that base is the key to its charm. The combination of vetiver, oakmoss, patchouli, civet and (likely) castoreum in Ysatis is both terrible and wonderful to behold. The whole thing is smoothed over by a heady rush of vanilla and amber, creating a smokey sultry perfume overall.

If there are memories I attach to Ysatis, then they are embarassing ones. Hair metal, my friends, hair metal…

Ysatis takes me back to the one and only Bon Jovi concert I ever attended, with Skid Row as the opening act. The video for “Lay Your Hands on Me” was shot at Memorial Coliseum during the show. (And you can see me, or more accurately, my big BIG hair, in one of the crowd shots. Sigh.) I think of all the people I hung out with at the time, and all the people I met. I think about my goofy-ass self, and have to laugh.

These are all photos of some of the photos I had in a scrapbook. Please forgive the grainy and poor image quality. Click on the thumbnails to enlarge.

I am rockin’ out. To what? Who knows… perhaps it was Poison, whose concert t-shirt I am wearing. But none of that matters. What matters is I had the music and the metal inside me.

Here’s Rudolf Schenker from the Scorpions. I wish you could see the gignormous hoop earings hanging off my lobes. They weren’t hula hoops, but they went far beyond door knocker size and into barn handle territory. You might be able to make out my painfully bright red Revlon lipstick - it was either Fire & Ice or Cherries in the Snow. I forget which since I was enamoured of both at the time, as well as this awful fuchsia one from their Moondrops line that I *think* was called Pink Flamingo (and that name should tell you how truly hideous pink it was.)Yeearrrgh!

You know, the worst part of this photo isn’t the gravity-defying hair, or even the outfit. No, the sad thing is that I probably looked in the mirror that day and sincerely thought, “Wow, I look so gooooood.”

Here’s me dressed up as Paul Stanley from KISS. I’m not even sure that it was Halloween at the time. Oh my.

This is Mark Slaughter posing with me. What you may or may not be able to tell from the photo is the lurid eggplant hair color I was sporting. What you probably CAN tell is how much hair product we both seemed to be using.

I have no idea who these people are. None. But I dimly recall this photo was taken was to capture the dude on the far right in the background. There’s really no good reason to include this shot, aside from the fact that dude apparently still makes me laugh. I wish the picture weren’t so crappy, so you could see the stoned out of his mind facial expression and his beer belly in crisp detail, while appreciating his matching Ozzy hat and (pulled up) Ozzy shirt. Anyhow, check the hair on all the guys here - it’s a nice time capsule of bad metal hair choices.

In summation, memories like those above are what floods back to me when I smell Ysatis. Please don’t let that detract any intentions you might have had to try it. I swear it’s quite classy, though I was (am) not. Ysatis even in eau de toilette is very strong and not for everyone, not even me, but it is something to admire.

For those of you who remember Sebastian Bach: Savage Animal. That clip is quite possibly the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen on reality TV. Oh hell, one more: here he is on Gilmore Girls covering Gwen Stefani’s Hollaback Girl.

The Sisters of Mercy were one of the million or so bands I favored during my teen years. Their song “Temple of Love” was a particular fave, especially on the dance floor.

This was during my “dark and interesting” phase, of which I succeeded at being neither. Like so many other laughably disaffected Portland teenagers of the era, I’d hang out with my friends in the cheap cafes, drink refillable coffees and smoke clove cigarettes. We were far too cool, too deep, to be understood by our peers. *groans in embarssment*

Now had I the money or sophistication, I would have eschewed my goofy striped leggings and black vintage jackets, instead wearing Poison, the one fragrance guaranteed to alienate nearly everybody around you. It is a sloppy hangover of a kiss to the 80s. When I got older it was the one fragrance my coworkers begged me not to wear. One explained, “Sweetie, I’m sorry, but that smells like nausea.”

No real discussion of 80s fragrances can happen without mention of this heady 1985 Dior creation by Jean Guichard.

Poison doesn’t gild the lily, it coats it in thick syrup. Everything here plays out as intrusively sweet - the viscous lily, tuberose, berry pulp, ambery woods, myrrh, vanilla, and even the smoke, too. But I’d never call it sugary, that’s for sure.

Some perfumes wear the person rather than vice versa. Not so with Poison. No, Poison climbs all up on you, then dry humps your leg while panting its wet breath onto your face.

And yet I love it. Without repentance. Sounds irrational, I suppose. When I dab it on, I choose it selfishly for myself, and to hell with what anyone else things. Because damn… it smells gooooood. What a beautiful dirty creature it is.

Poison taps into some hidden knurl of the brain that appreciates the dark and interesting, but nevertheless requires excess to fully gratify the ancient survival instinct within our animal selves. Poison is way too much, which smells like precisely the correct amount.

Whilst looking for the old Poison commercials, I found something just a smidge better on YouTube: an accordian fueled cover of Alice Cooper’s Poison. (To see a video of the original in all its 80s hair metal glory, click here.) It has nothing to do whatsoever with the perfume, but was too funny to let go unnoticed. However, I did find a wee ad for Dior Poison, if blistering accordian rock just isn’t your thing.

Image from parfumdepub.net, where you can view a variety of Parfums Dior ads.

Temple of Love was released in 1983 as a single, but the extened version that provides the clip here can found on their later Some Girls Wander by Mistake album. It is still available as a used CD at Djangos.

One of the funnier quirks of hindsight is that despite its much vaunted 20/20 vision, it turns out hindsight still suffers from glaring blindspots.

It’s too easy, and lazy, to dismiss all those infamous 80s fragrances as stentorian blasts at the nose. So they were loud. So what. Were any of ‘em good?

I would suggest that, yes, two decades later, some of them deserve a new appreciation.

One that ought to be revisited by those who survived the big hair, shoulder pads, and the egregious overuse of Nagel prints in the 80s is Chanel’s Coco. It’s no Chanel No. 5, but then No. 5 is so iconic as to defy fair comparisons with any of Chanel’s other fragrances.

Coco was released in 1984, its creation credited to perfumer Jacques Polge. Notes include mandarine, orange blossom, Bulgerian rose, jasmine, tonka, sandalwood, incense, leather, musk ambrette, and vanilla.

Coco arrives on the skin like a cartoon snowball doomed to tumble down the mountain into an avalanche. The force of it runs contrary to the current fad of light weightless fragrances. Yet sometimes we need a little rumbling, something to disturb the peace.

Worn judiciously, it conveys not only power, but elegance. I would argue that a quiet sense of cozy warmth hides somewhere inside the composition, as well. While Coco’s vanillic lilt lends that coziness, I would be loathe to characterize this perfume as just another vanilla.

The three concentrations of Coco all vary enough to warrant mention of those differences. All are appealing in their own ways.

The eau de toilette is predictably thinner, but neatly shows off the drier qualities of the fragrance, which gives it a rather leathery feel. It may perhaps be the most comfortable choice for men to wear out of the three.

The eau de parfum wears as sweeter, with more enjoyably spicy connotations. The heart of the edp smells like flowers run through a juice machine. I like the edt, but the edp better satisifies cravings for a rich fall fragrance.

And then… there’s the parfum. Oh my. It’s so strong as to be quite nearly terrifying. The sweetness is there in spades, and the powder evolves into the smell of pulverized cream cake soap. Darker tones in the base come across as sweetly resinous. The drydown invokes incense generally and sweet myrrh specifically, as well as calling to mind the aroma of old leather handbags. The spiciness plays softly in the parfum, noticable yet not particularly predominate.

I cannot recommend any one version of Coco over the others. (Though I am willing to dissuade folks from buying Coco Mlle. in lieu of Coco. Please.) They are all fine choices - depending on personal preference. I happen to be currently wearing the parfum, but when that runs out - who knows which I will choose next? I rather like them all.