Scentzilla!

In no particular order, here are my top ten winter picks. More winter favorites can be found at the following sites -

Now Smell This :: Perfume Posse :: Perfume Smellin’ Things

1.) Lancome - Poeme

I’ve recently rediscovered this 1995 release by perfumer Jacques Cavallier (via Now Smell This) and it’s just as sumptuous as I’d remembered it. It’s not the most well loved of Lancome fragrances, and small wonder at that. For all the thick, cozy warmth, it’s nevertheless so strong that it hits some folks like a bitchslap in a mitten. Poeme’s composition is so chock full o’ notes that it reminds me of how Givenchy’s Amarige can be received: No two people will notice the exact same notes at any one time. On me, Poeme seems front-loaded with peach and tuberose, with a distinctly smokey undertone of woody amber and what I keep imagining is “violet leaf.” My nose lies to me, because I think my “violet leaf” is supposed to “vetiver.” I like my husband’s impression of Poeme best; When asked his opinion of it on my wrist, he shook his head ruefully and said, “That is what you wear to crush the competition in a room.” Ha! And maybe that’s why I like it. Screw the girl power of the 90s, give me some woman power.

2.) The Body Shop - Ananya

See, the Poeme I might be forgiven for under certain circumstances, but digging out Ananya means I am in serious nostalgic swing for the 90s. It wears as vaguely smokey on my skin, and on me, and only me, it smells a lot like a less trenchant Dior Poison. Weird, I know. Ananya smells like a nuclear fruit device, even moreso than Poeme, with notes of peach and melon. Yet I keep reaching for it. I am so embarrassed. It’s like an addiction to a drug that I never really liked in the first place. It’s not chasing the dragon - it’s too foofy and girly for that. It’s like… chasing the unicorn? Dunno. It’s sickly sweet, powerful, and I cannot help myself. Would anyone else like to start an Ananya support group?

3.) Fendi - Theorema

See? This so-called “winter” list is trying to become a “full-on hard-on for the 90s” list instead.

“Fendi’s Theorema… distills warm sun upon the skin with a simple spritz. It parlays the quiet pleasure of a satisfied cat napping in a window sunbeam into a fragrance. [...] This fragrance contains all the complexity we expect from heavier “orientals,” but it is lighter. Effortless, even.”

“Theorema is no longer being sold in the US anymore. It is worth hunting down.”

4.) John Varvatos - John Varvatos

The first offering from this designer escaped my notice until last year, and I kept meaning and then forgetting to mention it. It’s not a great leather scent, but it’s very wearable and I’d imagine quite striking on the right person. I am not the right person. However, I did force my regular guinea pig, my sister, to try it on, and a lovely (if a little dark) sueded floral tone bloomed on her during the drydown. I am of course jealous, but also eager to replicate the magic it had on her skin. So I keep persisting, and am holding out hope that others may wear it with such luck. We both got a subtle dried figgy note and soft woods through the middle, as well as vanilla toward the end of wear that stuck like super glue. (I personally like a dab of vanilla with leather, but as they say, “your mileage may vary.”)

5.) Tauer Perfumes - Le Maroc pour elle

“The roses here are deep, rich, and I found myself nodding in agreement when I read Luca Turin’s mention of Bal a Versailles in his recent post about Le Maroc. While they do not smell alike, both share a quality of circularity. A note suggests it will fade off into the distance only to reappear as it makes another lap around the track. In Le Maroc’s case, this is how I perceive rose occuring.”

“Le Maroc is classified ‘pour elle,’ and while it is indeed feminine, it’s certainly not weak. Sensual, vibrant, and composed of strength, it is not the smell of a little girl, or some flirty teenager. It is womanly. And I like that.”

6.) Agent Provacateur - Agent Provocateur

“Agent Provocateur fascinates me. I don’t know any other way to put it. It engages me in a very peculiar way, because while it is ostensibly intended as a sexy fragrance, I find myself trying to think it over and puzzle it out while I wear it. So I guess for me, strangely enough, Agent Provocateur develops as an intellectually stimulating fragrance. It makes me feel like reading long complicated books, like David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest, and just thinking.”

“Agent Provocateur has a truly magnificent, and practically maniacal, throw. So the sillage may give many people pause before choosing this scent. I love any number of scents, and like many more, but this one instantly knocked my socks off. It’s certainly not for everyone. It has tremendous character, one that not everyone will take to. In fact, this could wear as vulgar on some folks.”

7.) Can we cheat a little? I am naming two sadly discontined Helmut Lang fragrances as my number seven.

The first is the eponymous Helmut Lang parfum. It is pure class and raunch at once. Transparant citrus surfaces stretch over a profoundly musky stank, suggesting wild beasts trapped safely behind the smooth civility of zoo glass. It wears just as well in summer as it does in winter, but my craving lately for it places it prominently on this list.

The second discontinued fragrance is Cuiron. I picked it for fall. It’s dandy in winter, too. “Helmut Lang’s Cuiron paints a portrait in monochrome. It is comprised of successive layers of leather. But not any old leather. Or rather, it IS old leather - the smell of an antique book pulled off the shelf, an old black jacket hanging off the back of a chair, a soft suede purse that’s only pulled out on special occasions, a well-worn chair that’s seen better days but is still the comfiest one in the house.”

Proctor & Gamble own the rights to the Helmut Lang fragrances, and they are breaking my heart. If these two were released again as some niche perfumery’s creations, I have no doubt they’d wind up with cult-like followings. In the wake of discontinuation, folks are now left to scavenge discount retailers and eBay to stock up on these before they completely evaporate into the ether of corporate sales margins.

8.) A love affair with Mrs. Meyer’s products continues unabated at Chez Scentzilla. At Christmastime, the company sells Gingerbread household products, and I couldn’t resist. There’s no use looking for them now, but if you spot the hand soap, cleaner, or room spray during next year’s holiday season, scoop them up and remember to thank me later. One word of advice - do not use any of them in the bathroom. I do my dirty business in there, yet emerge with a case of the munchies, filling me with much confusion and shame. Kitchen-use only, please.

9.) Serge Lutens - Santal Blanc

I SOOOOO love this fragrance. Simple and chic, its medicinal/mentholic top notes cut a very smart edge along a dry woody base. Despite my love, Santal Blanc betrays me. I have been told it makes me smell like a dog peed on me. Wear it with that warning in mind, and a thousand puppy kisses if you can carry it off successfully (i.e. without dog pee.)

10.) Comme des Garçons - 2 Man

“The opening blast always weirds me out just a little. Whatever notes are ascribed to it don’t matter to me. It smells like typewriter ribbons [...] 2 Man recalls the way Gres Cabaret seems filtered through a cloud of smoke without smelling smokey. Its woody notes are real but unidentifiable, like staring out a train window and watching the blurry trees fly past. Mutant spices that I know without recognition drift by until we land at nutmeg. The nutmeg of 2 Man’s dry down is warm and dry, mixed into the smeared streaky watercolors of an abstract forest.”

*Honorable Mention*

Elizabeth W - Vetiver candle

Elizabeth W’s Vetiver fragrance smells timid compared to many soliflors dedicated to that note. Their take on vetiver explodes with white florals more that it expresses the full pungence of the grass… which perversely makes the candle perfect for winter. It fills the house with bright cheer from fresh spring bouquets and a rather tender and sentimental vetiver base note, and never overpowers the space with the usual muddy dankness that both vetiver and rainy Pacific Northwest winters have in common. It’s nice to have flowers in the house when there are none left in the yard. This particular candle also is good at covering up burnt microwave popcorn smell, which is neither here nor there, but I may as well throw that in there. I can’t possibly be the only person who has a popcorn-specific inability to use the microwave properly, can I?

(Reader disclosure: I received this candle and a deck of carded samples from Elizabeth W last year.)

L’Occitane - Rhubarb Compote candle

There’s not much throw from this candle, which should be mentioned right off the bat. It is best suited for the kitchen or small rooms only. However, this candle does make honorable mention because L’Occitane really nailed a rhubarb note with surprising accuracy. The tartness and the sweetness inherent to this fruit smell perfectly balanced when lit. What a fun winter candle option for comfort fragrance addicts and foodies with a hankering for rhubarb. It’s a very nice treat without the sugary calories or trouble of baking.