Scentzilla!

It’s funny the way you can almost taste lilacs before you smell them. Some ghost thirst speeds ahead of your nose in similar shape and recognition to the real thing, then suddenly vanishes before you can name the sensation.

En Passant moves with the butterfly kiss of lilacs fluttering in the wind, brushing delicate across the tippy top of your nose in that split second when liquid cognition evaporates.

So what if the juice has all the half-life of paper in fire? En Passant stands for everything illuminating and ephemeral.

The shine off a stranger’s new shoes;
A slightly sweaty and urgent handhold of a couple just now in love;
The smile that bursts into an overheard joke.

These revenant moments hang brightly in the untranslatable space that floats between words and actions. They extend and shrink the world within a single but shared twinkling. Connect the dots and you will find a constellation of humanity shining back.

Time’s arrow occasionally forgets the curve of space, pinning fleeting experiences into something resembling what we like to call forever.

Eternity is not infinity, it is awaking to the realization of an instant.

Givenchy Originally uploaded by lincolnblues

The scent of Givenchy L’Interdit epitomizes the first sunny spring day still ruddy-cheeked from winter’s chill, be it from a cherished vintage bottle or the recent Les Mythiques release. Nature arrives at its vernal appointment, and soon you can smell the daffodils laughing at your mittens and damp woolen layers.

2007’s reissued version, while marginally paler, nevertheless represents an acceptably nice and IFRA-pleasing recreation of the original. (As opposed to the 2002 reformulation, which I won’t dwell upon, since it’s been forever since I had a whiff, and by all reports is a much sweeter thing having just a name in common with the 1957 creation.)

The original exhibits a little more depth (a depth partially due, I believe, to an indolic note I quickly become anosmic to, drat.) It also benefits from a spicy little dance number (I sense clove, which likely is its carnation note in hiding, and balsamic resin, so perhaps there’s labdanum?) that breaks out under the canopy of white florals and over the base. Included in those bottom notes are sandalwood and polycyclic musks. The vintage juice sports a fleeting strawberry note. This “strawberry” reminds me less of its namesake than it strikes me as simply being strawberry-like. You could call it a “lemonade stand in a patch of bloomin’ strawberries” note, if, you know, you’re not into the whole brevity thing.*

Both vintage and 2007 versions draw inspiration from the same bouquet of rose, lily of the valley, and jasmine to create the heart notes. That’s admittedly not a particularly novel mix of flowers; the charm of L’Interdit lies in the wonderfully diffusive aura of its particular arrangement. In addition to a shared heart, both versions show bergamot peppering the first phase of wear, and each intimate a peach-like (or, if you’re not it the whole brevity thing - “peach gummi candies dipped in milk and nail polish remover”) tone in the middle. Some changes have occured in the end ingredients, but I find the ease with which the base slips into view has remained the same. It’s still softly wooded and powdered by musk.

The complete olfactory texture of L’Interdit feels like satin bed sheets smoothed of any folds or wrinkles. You can practically slide your way down this scent.

Although aptly compared to Chanel No. 5 sometimes, the contrast between the two tends to stick out just as much as their similarities. The floral-fruity threads in L’lnstant’s formula remain tightly weaved, whereas with No. 5 you can’t help but to notice the raised weft made by those big mathemagical aldehydes. L’Instant hints at a sapling’s tender green sprigs; You suspect that within No. 5 lurks a treehouse filled with raccoons on the lam from Animal Control. Dolloping excess into every shimmering droplet fueled No. 5’s creation. Funneling that beautiful legacy into a child of Tuesday renders L’Interdit graceful, and much more restrained. So, the comparison to No. 5 works only as a filial one - mother to daughter - rather than one between peers. L’Interdit is no wild child.

This fragrance has been famously mythologized as Hubert de Givenchy’s ode to the young Audrey Hepburn. A gamine may be in ther own springtime, but sadly that spring happens only once. Behind this myth is the reality that an astute perfumer, Fabrice Fabron, condensed the somewhat elusive concept of her fey elegance into an anniversary of more earthly transitions. The “forbidden” quality impressed upon us in the fragrance’s name is a lie. Spring may be unavailable to us for three-quarters of the year but we are always asssured of it eventually.

*I finally rewatched The Big Lebowski after, like, ten years. It’s much funnier and more coherent than I remembered it being, but out of the Coen brother’s films, I still prefer their love letter to Buster Keaton, Raising Arizona. And The Hudsucker Proxy, too, if only for that idiotically fantastic moment when Tim Robbins’ character reveals a sketch of his invention.

For a while I’ve been mulling over the idea of compiling a list of fun fragrance choices for under $25. Then lost interest when it dawned on me what a huge list that might become. The theme of summer fragrances narrows that list down a bit. Doing a Top 10 for $10 narrows the focus even further, in addition to satisfying my OCD need for symmetry. So without further ado:

1. Novaya Zarya Carnation Eau de Cologne -  This inexpensive splash may be a rather reductive take on the iconic Soviet national flower, but if you can let go of the idea that a cologne named Carnation should smell of actual carnations you’ll be able to appreciate its charm. A clove and white floral note form a chord in the heart of the EdC, with a base of warm brown sugar vanilla acting as both a fixitive and a softening note for the first two.

2. Coty Exclamation - The smell of Exclamation in the air may fill you with the nostalgic horror of the 80s - and I can’t say I would blame you. Its ridiculous popularity resulted in the same fragrant cultural overdose that kids who grew up in the 90s experienced with CKOne.

It’s a perfectly nice scent, however, even if it may seem a bit passe. Powdery scents just don’t get the love they used to.

Especially the powdery-musky scents which folks like to decry as “old lady smell.” (And why exactly are folks complaining? My great-grandma, admittedly a great old lady, smelled of boiled meat and mentholated cough drops. One of my grandmas mostly smelled like vitamins and pee. Powdery would have been preferable. Proustian rembrances of unpleasant odors can mess with your head while thinking back of loved ones.) If you can concentrate solely on the here and now smell of Exclamation in 2008, it will smell more like a sweet and oddly demure coquette than some “old lady.”

3. Revlon Jean Nate - Speaking of “old lady smells…” Everyone everywhere in the US had at least one older female relative who went a little nuts with the Jean Nate. I suspect this is partially due to the diminishing return on our sense of smell as we age, and partially due to the fact that those who wore it received their Jean Nate in the form of gift sets at Christmas. If they didn’t use those bottles up by the next round of Christmas gift sets, it was a sign they weren’t wearing enough.

I like Jean Nate. The floral musky elegance of the after bath splash and the dusting powder when used judiciously smells clean and bright without reeking of detergent like so many of the so-called fresh and/or clean fragrances that populate the top selling lists at the moment.

4. Elizabeth Arden Sunflowers* - Technically, this is still considered a midrange department store fragrance. But it’s not hard to find the eau or ancillary products lurking on discount shop shelves, or smaller bottles mixed in with the rest of the other drugstore options.

Sunflowers was released in, like what, ‘92 or ‘93? I associate that time with the indulgent overuse of “celestial” designs, and a shitload of cheap Van Gogh posters depicting a.) sunflowers, or b.) Starry Night that accumulated in all my friends’ bedrooms. And all my friends wore Sunflowers. I’ve overcome my revulsion for celestial themes and learned to see Van Gogh with unjaded eyes again, so I suppose it was only a matter of time before I’d circle back to Sunflowers.

It’s a moss flecked, lily of the valley aldyhyde fragrance at first, which gives the top a lovely sweet-and-sour feel. The fruity-marine heart brings on the sensation of a cool breeze on a bright sunshiney summer day. In fact, it kind of is the perfect summer fragrance. The base smells of rosy sandalwood, and is light enough not to overwhelm everyone around you in the heat.

5. Gal Perfumia Red Currant balm - As you’d suspect, this lip balm smells (and tastes) sweet. Unlike the other Gal Perfumia balms which apply clear, Red Currant leaves a sheer tint of red on the lips. On sweaty, no point in wearing cosmetics summer days, its light perfume and soft color can be a welcome effect for those who have to leave the house wearing something at least.

6. Yardley English Rose - Aside from their soaps, Yardley is getting tricky to find here in the US. The brand used to be a bigger staple of drug and dime store toiletry shelves, so I guess that must be one of those unfortunate out with the old/in with the new things.

If you were to go by name, you’d be forced to conclude that the English Rose fragrance is a failure. It is not a rose, English or otherwise. But what it is is just fine! It’s GERANIUM, often used as a rose note or substitute rose note for, like, ages. Perfumers have long been attracted to its lovely smell, its easy availability, and its relative cheapness. If you too enjoy its minty rose character, then why pay a lot for a geranim perfume? The mint facet has a cooling effect; the rose facet has warming one. It’s a nice balance.

(PS. Does anyone make a geranium toothpaste? For some reason I think that’d be enjoyable.)

7. Pre de Provence Linden - PdP Linden soap is one of my absolute favorites. While its particularly cheering in the dead grey of winter, it makes for a blessedly airy fragrance when trying to shower in the hot humidity of triple digit summer temperatures. The eau de toilette is no less pleasing, to both the nose and wallet.

8. Agustin Reyes Royal Violets - Somewhat of a Cuban grooming staple, this baby cologne is perfect for adults, too. The fragrance is expectedly soft, which makes it ideal for the heat. I might even suggest to keep a bottle in your fridge during summer, much like you would with 4711 or Guerlain Vetiver. As with most violet fragrances, what you find is the perfumer’s candy recipe for violets rather than actual violets. Royal Violets comes across as sweet, powdery, and I’d say in the base it bears a delicate touch of spiced woodiness, too. It’d make a nice change up when you tire of the non-stop citrus parade of fragraces usually trotted out during summer. In some areas it can be found on drugstore shelves, but a quick Googling reveals a number of online store specializing in Cuban goods also carry it.

9. Coty Sand and Sable - An inexpensively made fragrance can smell rich, and Sand and Sable stands as a fine example of that. This is not to say it’s a thick pyramid of carefully revealed notes. Sand and Sable is a mostly linear fragrance. Which is not a criticism. Horizontal compositions are finding fans again in the niche world, and I don’t see why this mass-market classic can’t be rehabilitated back into fashion.

Sand and Sable smells like a tame photograph of a pin-up icon (Old school pin-up that is, as opposed to those most confusingly named Suicide Girls.) She’s got a big “gardenia” pinned in her hair, a nice sandy spot picked out on the beach, and her Coppertone sun lotion applied. The fragrance is pretty, if a little flirty, and despite its retro glamor poses no risk to the wearer of being accused of being a kitsch lover.

10. Jovan Pink Musk - Light musky peony. Yeah, that’s about the gist of it. You could look for more depth than that, I guess. You shouldn’t, but you could.

Peony? Good.

Light musk? Good.

Together? Also good.

It seems to have a little bit of sticking power to it, or at least compared to other drugstore florals. Unless it’s a completely triple digit day you should get two or three hours out it before needing to refresh. I’m not a great proponent of the merely pleasant or any fragrance with the word pink in it, but Pink Musk’s peony note is fairly accurate, and a hint of grassy green gives it just enough feistiness to escape that dreaded “I suppose its nice enough” designation.

For more lists, please visit Bois de Jasmin ::Now Smell This :: Perfume Posse :: Perfume-Smellin’ Things

*I was complimented by a teenager a while back for wearing the above-mentioned Sunflowers to a barbeque. Not for its loveliness, no, but for the “irony.” I don’t know what that means. Apparently one can wear a perfume “ironically.” This is news to me. Very troubling and baffling news. The hostess had decorated her living room with large sunflower-filled vases, which I guess scores a rating of “ironic.” See, now if I’d have worn Dior Poison to a meeting of the International Assassins Union, THAT would be… no, that would be merely complimentary. Maybe wearing Poison while manning the phones at a Poison Control Center? Feh. I think I have officially become one of The Olds. The Youngs and their new-fangled ideas frighten and confuse me. Expect me to explore this area soon in a post demanding a Matlock perfume, the first celebrity fragrance featuring a hot dog note… a note which will only make sense to Olds like me who actually watch Matlock.