Scentzilla!

Upon the occasion of the infamous Neiman Marcus Christmas catalog’s listing of the collected archives of Jacques Fath, I figured a brief choppy history of the man and his house might be in order. Of course, I am sure I could do a much better job of it if anyone would like to loan me a spare $3.5 million dollars… I swear I can totally pay you back!

Jacques Fath

(September 6, 1912 - November 13, 1954)

Jacques Fath began his fashion house in a small two-roomed salon on Rue de la Boetie, presenting his first collection in 1937. He later moved in 1940 to Rue Francois Premier¹, and then in 1944 settled into a studio at 39 Avenue Pierre 1er de Serbie.

Fath took a number of young designers under his wing, though perhaps the best known of the assistants he hired were Hubert de Givenchy, Guy Laroche, and Valentino². He also drew upon the talents of shoe designer Andre Perugia³.

The Paris studio Fath operated was fortunate to remain open during the entirety of Nazi occupation during WWII. His relative occupation-era success, viewed in certain quarters as a direct result of cooperating with the Germans and kowtowing to Vichy pressures, has only recently entered the discourse in the past decade. His association with various Nazi-Vichy sympathizers and a comparatively wealthy German clientele during those years certainly tarnished his status as a designer amongst some modern critics. Much of the credit for this discussion can apparently be attributed to Vallerie Guillaume’s 1993 book Jacques Fath, which looks into the house’s history. (I am hoping someday I will get my grubby little hands on Guillaume’s book. The book is neither easy nor cheap to find in the States, but I would love to read it.) However, it is also due to a slow but growing willingness to examine the survival strategies of ALL those famous French houses, not only Fath’s.

The period of French design during Nazi control is rarely discussed widely, but merits mentioning for historical context. Parisian designers like Maggy Rouff (who some of you perfume-nuts may know by association with Paul Poiret of Parfums Rosine, who sold designs to her), Marcel Rochas, Nina Ricci and others, also somehow kept afloat. They perisisted, despite their houses being practically decimated by the time Paris was free again. This was not due to the various designers’ artistic, or in some cases moral, inflexibility. Lucien Lelong, for instance, was also affected by the Mode Martiale of WWII; He was one of the more prominent designers to have talks directly with the German textile and fashion officials⁵ in his capacity as the design community’s nominated leader. Amongst other things, Lelong successfully dissuaded them from relocating the Parisians to establish Berlin and Vienna as the premier fashion capitals, diminishing France’s preeminence in the industry. The bureaucratic Nazis micromanaged every conceivable facet of life during their take-over, and the fashion industry was granted no exceptions. Author Valerie Steele notes⁴,

“…the Vichy regime adopted a fashion discourse similar to that in Facist Italy and Nazi Germany, stressing nationalism and conservative social values. Fashion designers were encouraged to draw inspiration from regional or ‘folk’ costumes; Jacques Fath, for example, designed dresses inspired by peasant costume. Fashion magazines were also encouraged to extol the traditional Frenchwoman, as opposed to the cosmopolitan Parisienne.”

A number of German-demanded regulations were bootstrapped onto all French designers, right down to which fabrics and the lengths of those fabrics that could be used. (Hence, the shorter hemline came into vogue.) Even the dates of release for the meager Paris collections were dictated by the German government.⁵

Lelong, of course, shook off the perception that he may have been a collaborator, later being granted status as a hero (Croix de Guerre and the Legion of Honor) due to his leadership in working for France’s intrests. Perhaps in contrast, we might glance over at Coco Chanel. The Nazi sympathies of Coco Chanel are widely known, due to her literal sleeping with the enemy. Yet Chanel is one of the most recogizable names in fashion. Ask the average person about Lelong, Fath, or other contemporaries, and you will only receive an empty-eyed “who?” in response. Exemplary behavior during that time clearly hasn’t been a necessary condition for achieving renown. Opening up the whole subject for further evaluation will hopefully occur even more over the years to come: This period for designers is historically interesting, and a story that may prove interesting to readers outside of costuming and fashion study.

At war’s end, the liberated French designers celebrated with profound creative renewal, most notably in the inspiring “New Look.” Christian Dior is regularly credited with the genesis of the “New Look,” yet it is not hard to see the premonitions and seeds of this movement in Fath’s earlier designs. In fact, there was even a bit of feud between Fath and Dior. Magazines devoted coverage to it, splashing headlines such as “Dior Contre Fath” (pictured) across their feature pages. What interesting things might have eventually evolved out of this rivalry we will never know, as Fath died at the young age of 42, while Dior went on to acheive even greater heights of popularity.

Fath’s eagerness to break into the American market and his ambitious pursuit of that goal, may have also been cause for scorn amongst his Parisian peers. In 1948, the New York-based clothier Joseph Halpert contracted with Fath to design special ready-to-wear collections for sales in the American market. (One such Halpert collection is Fath’s 1950 Puritan collection, whose theme rather funnily, to me, fetishizes the “American” aesthete.) Many of the cuts of his clothing from this time emphasize a fitted form, accentuating thin waists and using lines that minimally curve with the body.

Fath most famously sold his designs in the US at Neiman Marcus, some apparel bearing labels of both the famous store’s name and the designer’s. Neiman Marcus went so far as to bestow him with an “Award for Distinguished Service in the Field of Fashion” in appreciation. Time magazine noted of the occasion⁶:

“Couturier Jacques Fath, in Dallas to accept a fashion prize from the Neiman-Marcus store, got all dressed up in native costume (Western-style plaid shirt by Jacques Fath, glass-studded white leather belt by Neiman-Marcus, blue denim britches by Sears, Roebuck). Concluding that the U.S. square dance is ‘wonderful, wonderful,’ he announced that Paris would hear of the sport just as soon as he got home.”

His work soon became especially popular with the American women, and celebrites including Jacqueline Kennedy, Josephine Baker, and Rita Hayworth all wore his designs. He even designed Rita Hayworth’s wedding dress for the occasion of her marriage to Aly Khan in 1949. Additionally, his costume design for the Hollywood film The Red Shoes is quite well known, though he did contribute to a few others. His dress patterns through Vogue’s sewing pattern company also sold rather well to average women who enjoyed his style but couldn’t afford anything from his lines.

In 1939 he married Genevieve Boucher de la Bruyere, a celebrated “mannequin” and former secretary to Coco Chanel. The couple had one child, Philippe, born in 1943⁷. (Phillipe in turn had two children⁸, however the rights to the name have long been sold off, and I don’t believe they have any involvement with their grandfather’s house.) After Jacques died, the house briefly carried on for a few years under Mme. Fath’s direction until 1957. A number of the designs released under Genevieve’s time are as appealing as those M. Fath himself put out. The photo book Stella, about a frequent Fath mannequin named Stella Maret, demonstrates a fantastic range of designs issued in the years following M. Fath’s death. Genevieve was instrumental not only in keeping the name alive, but also in terms of creative input to her husband during his lifetime. What I find most touching about Fath’s story is not his beautiful clothing, or even his perfumes… it is this lovely woman, who had smarts behind her beauty. It is her influence which shaped many of his collections and the photography showing off his designs. She was a remarkable source of inspiration, but sometimes remained hidden behind the title of “wife.”

Fath himself was less than generous towards the female gender as a whole. He had notably declared⁹, “Women are bad fashion designers. The only role a woman should have in fashion is wearing clothes,” and “Fashion is an art and men are the artists.”

Jacques Fath was a flawed, imperfect man, but one with impeccable taste and talent. If we go rooting around into his contemporaries’ lives, I feel we’d come to much the same conclusions about them. But to whitewash is to render a subject dimensionless, and Fath deserves more than a flat treatment. And better than my pitifully edited summary, too.

The following is a complete list of perfumes made under the Jacques Fath label, some with brief olfactory information.

Perfumes released by Fath during his lifetime:

1945: Chasuble, floral woody oriental
1946: Iris Gris, floral fruity woody: perfumer Vincent Roubert
1950: Canasta, fruity chypre: not sure, but has perfumer Vincent Roubert’s fingerprints all over it
1953: Fath de Fath, floral woody and musky oriental
1953: Green Water, green aromatic citrus woody (for men): perfumer Vincent Roubert

Perfumes released under the Fath name after it was licensed to L’oreal:

1968: Fath’s Love, sparkling tuberose floral
1972: Ellipse
1977: Expression, floriental chypre

Perfumes, released and/or reforumulated & re-released, as the house experienced a revival in the 90s include:

1994: Fath de Fath, remade as fruity floriental with strong vanillic emphasis by perfumers Haarmann and Reimer¹⁰
1996: Eau de Fath¹¹
1998: Pour L’Homme (sometimes called simply “Jacques Fath”), fresh floriental (for men)
1999: Yin, fresh floriental
1999: Yang, green woody oriental (for men)

1. Elements of Fashion and Style, p.115, by G.J. Sumathi
2. Time, Feb. 5, 2003, “Is There A Future In Fashion’s Past?”
3. http://www.historyofashion.com/historyofashion/shoeperugia.html
4. Fifty Years of Fashion: New Look to Now, p.9, by Valerie Steele
5. Fashion Under the Occupation, various including appendix, by Miriam Kochan and Dominique Veillon
6. Time Magazine, 19 September, 1949, notes
7. Paris Match, 18 March, 1950
8. fashionfinds.com, site now defunct
9. Women Designers in the USA 1900 to 2000: Diversity and Difference, p. 194, by Pat Kirkham
10. New Perfume Handbook, p. 166, by Nigel Groom
11. Years of release for Eau de Fath through Yang via Basenotes.net.

UPDATE: There’s a great little short film showing off Fath clothing from 1956 on You Tube… just wonderful! For some reason I am having trouble embedding it today, so here’s a link to the You Tube page: Jacques Fath 1956

In the past two days, we’ve had a pipe burst; which led to flooding in the master bedroom and its bathroom; a light that we knew need replacing but hadn’t gotten around to burned its light bulbs to a crisp, and it is now shorting out the fuses that handle both our living room and the kitchen; a fence post along one side of our backyard decided to sag and dip down to the ground; which led to a whole section of the fence falling down because we were too harried with the bursting and the flooding to deal with a fence post. GAH! GAH! GAAAAAH! Will write a post after this weekend when we are done with damage control and I stop my uncontrollable swearing/sobbing.

I was waiting for a stroke of inspiration to hit me for a Thanksgiving-themed post this week, but it hasn’t come yet. The trouble with inspiration seems to be that it usually occurs in the middle of the night, when there’s sleeping to be done, and then I wake up to discover I’ve forgotten the allegedly brilliant thing that I was totally going to remember in the morning because it was so brilliant. So I stuck a pen and notebook on the dresser next to the bed, thinking I’d quick write it down before I’d fall back asleep. Then there’d be fresh, pretty ideas waiting for me to start the day with!

Here’s what I jotted down… In your head, try to imagine this written in line scrawl, with checkmarks before each word, and a single exclamation mark to the right that was five times the size of the words themselves. Underneath this lurked what was I believe was supposed to be a little round smiley face, but I can’t be sure, because it’s actually kind of egg shaped with some chicken scratch lines in the middle:

• brown
• jellybeans
• vintage

Ah. Yes. Apparently my big idea was to dig under the couch cushions to find remnants of old rotting candy hidden back last Easter, which not only addresses the wrong holiday, but is also pretty gross. Where the hell was I going with that? Well, there’s one lesson learned: there are no good ideas in the sleeping darkness, only crazy ones.

I am themeless. Here, in no particular order, are random things I’ve been thinking about…

1.) Balla Powder, Scented Scrotum Talc for Men.

This is a product?

I mean, a real one?

Not some item you see sitting between the remote control fart machine and the “How do you like your boobies” shirt at Spencer’s Gifts? (Both of which, by the way, we are reminded are “hilarious” by Spencer’s. We can all feel grateful they’re explicitly informing us of this fact, since it would have remained otherwise unnoticed.)

I am sure there’s a joke to be found about Balla Powder somewhere, and I’m pretty sure the punchline goes, “Tom Ford.” But I haven’t the steel stomach to go looking for it.

2.) Dolce & Gabanna Light Blue. So perfect. So chic. So popular. It’s the pretty cheerleader that everyone likes! But alas, there’s always that crowd that secretly hates the pretty cheerleader, and even moreso when people keep insisting “she’s so nice.” I am with that crowd. Light Blue is a mix of lemon, bergamot, cedar and white musk, with a green apple twist. Doesn’t that sound so nice? While I’m not sure any perfume can convey irony, Light Blue smells of veiled sarcasm to me. It’s shiny-happy on the surface, but then! Out of nowhere! A sharp metal knife driven into your back, or really, straight at your nostrils, just as soon as you let your guard down. And this, after you’ve already felt a small blast of Lysol up your nose, too.

People keep telling me to “give it another chance, just stick with it, and eventually it’ll work for you, too.” That sounds suspiciously like perfume appeasement, and Neville Chamberlaining with a perfume that insists on antagonizing you is a terrible plan. I shall fight at the counters, I shall fight at the display racks, I shall fight in the aisles and in the streets, I shall fight at Sephora; I shall never surrender.

I shall also remember that taking Benadryl for my allergies makes me very, very loopy. Seriously. It’s like being drunk, but without the fun, the beery deliciousness, or the comparative coherence of thought.

Anyhow, I hereby declare that I am done trying to come around to Light Blue. It’s a remarkably bad fit, and we are just never going to get along. If you and Light Blue are good buddies, congrats. You’re one of the lucky ones. It sure ain’t for me, though.

3.) Madonna’s NBC concert special is set to air this Thanksgiving Eve. Because nothing beats spending the holidays with Grandma. (I’ve no idea where that bit o’ vitriol came from, and no, I don’t really think she’s old. I’ve got nothing against her in particular, I swear. Just a vague annoyance that we’re supposed to find her antics lately at all compelling.)

4.) I finally cracked open a sealed bottle of a vintage fragrance I’ve been sitting on for months now. I’d wanted it for forever, but hadn’t worked up the nerve to unseal it right away. Oh man. I believe I found my Holy Grail perfume. More on that in a coming post, but I want to give another go ’round before I write about it.

5.) The Philosophy Lemonade 3-in-1 shampoo is proving to be a big hit with the menfolk in my house. It’s not really my kind of scent, but it’s quite good. Not too tart, not too sweet, a little pulpy, maybe a wee touch of woodiness. All in all, a really good representation of lemonade. My picky husband swears to me that it works equally as well on hair and on body - I’m taking his word on that and passing it along. My boys have been loving it for their bubble baths, and I must say, it foams up nicely.

6.) While I’m at it I am going to also recommend their Double Rich Hot Cocoa 3-in-1. I bought last winter, too, and it is the best fudgey-chocolately shower gel I’ve ever come across. Sometimes chocolate scented bath/body stuff hits me with a vague whiff of vinyl doggie chew toys, but this one’s fragrance is blessedly plastic-free. I don’t use it for shampoo, so I can’t say one way or the other how that works out. However, it does serve up a rich bubble bath, in addition to feeding a fine dessert to the ol’ shower poof. Hot Cocoa might just be my favorite 3-in-1 from Philosophy.

7.) Has anyone tried their Sugar Plum Fairy one? I should know better, but the name and bottle are so cute and utterly twee that I totally want to try it. Is it any good? Does it smell of plums, or what?

Image of Balla Powder from MenEssentials.com. Images of Philosophy 3-in-1s from Beauty.com. Image of Light Blue from Sephora.

1869 comes from a company that only recently caught my notice, Acca Kappa. Acca Kappa produces a full line of grooming products in addition to fragrance, which includes some nice vegetarian-friendly hair brushes. (Well this vegetarian is happy with hers, anyhow.) The 1869 men’s line ranges from an eau de cologne to a broad selection of men’s shaving and shower items, but I will only be talking about the eau here.

Leather is the theme, and 1869 addresses it in a very smooth, nearly unfettered style. Any other notes in the fragrance, including geranium, cardamom, violet leaf, and musk, seem to be stiched into the predominating leathery tones. There is a velvety feel to it, softened rather than sweetened by vanilla in the base. But truly, it’s all about the leather here.

Say, remember when Top Gun came out, and the trendy item for a while there was leather bomber jackets as a consequence of the flick’s popularity? (Hell, remember when Tom Cruise was cool? Not just cool, either. The coolest.) 1869 totally reminds me of the way a 1987 department store rack full of brown bomber jackets smelled. I wonder what ever happened to all those jackets people bought? It’s not like leather disintegrates quickly. I bet there’s, like, an army of mid-80s bomber jackets hidden in the closets of America eagerly waiting for their retro rehabilitation back into fashion. And all those jackets are probably bitter about the knit ponchos from the 70s that made a comeback during the ill-advised Great Poncho Rush of ‘01… why not them, too?

Etro Shaal Nur takes a bumpier route to acheive its fragrant aims than 1869. While leathery incense is intoned heavily, this somber reference gets used as a loudspeaker to broadcast other notes. A citrusy top of bergamot, lemon, and grapefruit score some airtime, then a segueway of rose and kitchen herbs lead into an extended mix of vetiver and dry, rather musky woods. Shaal Nur smells as if it were both as dark and as weightless as shadows. This eau de toilette attracts fans of both genders, and with its distinctive devolopment, it’s plain to see why. It’s not necessarily an easily worn or categorized fragrance, however. I find it too masculine to wear very often, since the musky and vetiver-dominated drydown linger most on me; My husband finds it too “girly” because the citrus and floral notes stick hard to his skin. Those who love it, really love it, so it is worth sampling, but I would recommend against buying a bottle unsniffed.

Completely Random and Pointless Gossip!

A friend of mine used to work in the airline industry in Miami, but she just moved back up to Portland recently. When we were chatting the other day, we wound up on the topic of all the celebrities she met during the course of that job. The person she had the nicest things to say about was Susan Lucci, who she described as the warmest, friendliest celeb she’s ever met, having a sort of old-school Southern-lady style graciousness. She’s apparently also very wee: so tiny you could lose her between the cracks of your couch cushions with your keys and loose change.

But Susan Lucci isn’t why I’m feeling compelled to share. She also mentioned a TV judge from one of those afternoon court shows. This judge was so rude, so diva’ed out in behavior, that the flight attendants christened their passenger with the portmanteau “First Classhole.” Hee! I’d say who it is, but it’s more fun to leave it open as a blind item guessing game. Plus? It’s new to me, so I really just HAD to share the bit o’ slang “First Classhole” before I exploded while waiting to find an excuse to use it.

Image of 1869 cologne from MenEssentials.com, where you can find a wide variety of choices from the Acca Kappa brand. 1869 is also available through First-in-Fragrance, and FiF does offer a sampling program. Second image from Top Gun’s wikipedia entry. Image of Shaal Nur from Beauty.com, which also sells the matching body wash and the body milk.

Some fragrances I like, some I loathe, and some I simply admire. But Benefit’s Maybe Baby is one I’ll have to ‘fess up to loving past all rationality.

Its petalled aroma comes across as effervescent and sweet, like apricots infused with champagne instead of juice. Maybe Baby features floral notes that include cyclamen and Himalayan poppy; fruity notes of lychee, apricot, and peach; base notes of extremely subtle musk and wood; and a delightful touch of ginger across the body which gives the fragrance such a sparkling quality. In fact, while writing this, I realize I’ve worn Maybe Baby as my New Year’s Eve fragrance since it came out a few years ago. Something about it compliments well those frequent long-stemmed toasts to everyone and everything.

The eau de toilette has rather fleeting staying power on me, lasting only a couple hours. However, it is the perfect accompaniment to

THE. GREATEST. LOTION. EVER. MADE.

EVER!!!

While Maybe Baby is offered as an ancillary sparkly body lotion (see below), the one to really plunk down the cash for comes from their similarly scented Bathina line: the “Touch me then try to leave…” Cream. I’ve gone through so many tubs of it since it was first introduced that I’ve lost all count how many times I’ve repurchased. The texture is divine. I love dipping my fingertips into that little tub. The fragrance from it lasts much longer than that of the Maybe Baby edt, and in fact, works just fine as a stand-alone product in place of the perfume. In addtion to having the same mouthwater fragrance as the edt, divine texture, and good aromatic staying power, it actually works; With its generous amounts of glycerine, it efficiently helps the skin retain moisture. My mom also adores it, and she has such dry sensitive skin that most scented lotions irritate her skin or worse, break her out in a rash. The “Touch me” cream rings up at $28 a pop, but it’s so rich and thick that it should last you a while. Hmmm…. “thick” is not quite the right word… it’s got a fullness a little like the way meringue will begin to fill up and form stiff peaks as you whip. Yeah, that’s it… no, it’s not. That’s a terrible description. Sigh. Anyhow, my dream is to one day come into possession of a Costco-sized vat of the stuff. Which I will then guard obsessively and refer to as “my precioussssss…” Until that day happens, I shall have to make due with what’s available, and hope ferverently the cream is never discontinued during the course of my lifetime.

The Gettin’ Steamy body wash made an excellent addition to the line, and is a huge improvement over the old powdered form of bubble bath they used to sell, which only produced the weakest of bubbles. Gettin’ Steamy smells just as lovely as the edt, and I think works awesomely for both shower gel and bubble bath. I like to give it out as a gift for birthdays and holidays, because other folks seem to enjoy using it just as much as I do.

Sandal Scandal is an exfoliating foot cream packaged with cute leetle bootie socks. If you have feet much larger than mine, women’s 7 US, do not count on being able to wear them. That said, the lotion itself is what you’d be after anyhow. Sandal Scandal is not the best exfoliating foot cream out there, but it sure beats rubbing on yet another mint- or eucalyptus- scented one. God, am I ever sick of those. Sandal Scandal incorporates the Maybe Baby/Bathina fragrance, but it does smell noticeably different. The aroma strikes me as sort of chemically in comparison to the edt or the other Bathina body products. It’s not an exceptional product, yet it’s certainly not a bad one. I’ve bought it a few times, but I don’t think it’s a must-have item particularly.

The Body So Fine balm… oh lordy! It smells vaguely of roses to me in the tin, however, once applied it begins to resemble Maybe Baby again. To my mind, it feels like a terribly luxurious and indulgent product. The balm is applied using a velvety pad to smooth thin layers across the skin. Do watch out when applying to in-between-shaves stubble legs, since the velvet can catch on the stiff hairs and cause little black lint balls to stick into the balm. (It works best on unprickled skin.) I use the balm mostly in the evening before bed, since I find applying it weirdly soothing; It’s a nice way to end the day before clambering into bed with a book or falling asleep with the TV blasting Law & Order: Insert Spin-Off Title Here.

The Maybe Baby body lotion acts as a medium-weight lotion with wee micro-sparkles that give off a luminescent shimmer on the skin. I guess it’s nice, and it’s soft texture is enjoyable, but to me it pales in comparison with THE. GREATEST. LOTION. EVER. MADE. Its fragrance is sort of, I dunno… a little pasty compared to the “Touch me” cream, as well. Not to say that it smells unpleasant, mind you, it’s very pretty… just that in contrast it doesn’t quite hold up to the excellence of the “Touch me” cream. But if you like shimmer, this would be the lotion for you.

In additon to being sold as an edt, Benefit also makes Maybe Baby as a small solid powder compact. The price certainly bites less than even the small bottle of edt, but I really recommend against buying the powder compact in lieu of the edt. The compact does provide for a pleasant pick-me-up and/or a convenient way to refresh your initial edt application. However, it’s not strong enough to carry on its own for more than a half hour. I rarely use mine, it being relegated to sitting neglected in a drawer.

Maybe Baby, and its ancillary products under both the Maybe Baby and Bathina lines, would appear on the face of it to sound more like spring/summer fragrance choices. Yet it’s actually these colder months when I crave that fragrance most. It conveys drops of sunshine on dreary winter days in the Pacific Northwest. It works fine in warms months, too, only it seems that spakling freshness is needed most when the world is grey and soggy.

Some of the above items are available for purchase in smaller travel sizes, and I really recommend them for stocking stuffers or to make up gift baskets with. They are small, but the price is quite reasonable for what you get.

Images all from BenefitCosmetics.com, and all items can be found both online there and at Benefit counters, as well as at Sephora.

Perhaps it’s a personal failing, but I’ve always felt slightly suspicious of the excessively hygenic. Not to say I don’t prefer things tidy, but I cotton better to folks whose hair is worn just a little mussed, or whose desks appear to be hurricane-triggered.

Unsurprisingly, I’ve always been a bit fickle when it comes to fragrances that fall within the “clean” genre. Some strike me as pointless, while others come across as either too soapy or vaguely metallic (weirdly enough.)

But when Tyler of Fragrances and More (full disclosure: Fragrances and More is also my advertiser for the month) kindly sent me samples from the Clean line by DLish, I figured I may as well revisit the original Clean eau de parfum, and try out the new-ish Fresh Laundry version he sent a vial of. I will also review the Clean Men variation, since it’s a fave.

All three Clean fragrances make extensive use of musks to acheive their fragrant aims. This is not the heavy musk we associate with animalic fragrances. Rather, this is the sort of musk we notice when we’re scooping out detergent.

Clean, the original, bears a disconcerting resemblence to a milkless bowl of Fruity Pebbles on me. Seeing as I’m still getting Fruity Pebbles upon a revisitation, I turned to my sister, whose skin makes magic with perfumes that my own chemistry rejects. On her it does remain fruity, but that connotation becomes fresh, like she’d just rinsed off in the bath from a citrus-berry shower gel lather. The lemonic note seems to stand out more than it did on me. It’s not a fave fragrance for me, admittedly, not even within the clean genre. However, I can see the appeal for some folks, specifically those who wear fruity musk scents happily and well, while desiring something a bit more refined than plopping open a virtual can of fruit cocktail to spray onto their wrists.

Fresh Laundry, on the other hand, I can totally do. Its soft mimicry of the aroma wafting off fresh linens, gently pressed, seems nearly uncanny. I sense a bit of mint in it, though I must mention I do not see that listed amongst the official notes. It’s NOT minty in any way, I should point out, however it has that fresh herbal lilt to it at the very break of the top notes on me. The listed notes include white florals, most noticably jasmine and rose, as well as lime. But, again, the fragrance smells more like sprayed and ironed linen than a bouquet. This is the sort of scent that wears so closely to the skin that other folks will unconsciously think you smell good without realizing it’s all in your perfume. The subtlety of it sublimates the very notion that you may even be wearing anything at all. I am surprised by my enjoyment of it.

My favorite of the line, and indeed, the only one I’ve committed to not only buying, but buying multiple bottles of since it came out, is Clean Men. It smells the way softened tap water tastes and feels. Pellegrino-like, perhaps. What I like best about it is its lingering top note of grapefruit, because it is one of those random grapefruit scents that do not turn sour on me. The whispered intonation of oilbanum (sort of incensey in a way, but not the smell of actual incense) is especially pleasing to me as it mixes in with the musk. While I feel in some ways it is less subtle than other offerings in the line, that suits me just fine for everyday use. Okay… so Clean Men does proclaim itself “masculine,” however I find nothing in the composition that evokes stereotypes of gender-exclusive wear. Mostly, I just really like it because I like it, heh…

None of these are “making a grand entrance” perfumes. All three develop only minimally, meaning they have a linear construction: The notes you smell in the first few minutes are for the most part the ones you will likely still smell later. But for quiet, pleasant personal fragrance choices, they work. The Clean fragrances make nice options for those who enjoy the ritual of perfume wear but do not wish for the people around them to know that. Heresy! Nah, just kidding.

The Clean line is available extensively through Fragrances and More, including all three of these: Clean (eau de parfum), Fresh Laundry, Clean Men.

Images: Spongebob is from Nickelodeon, vintage Tide clip art from old fifties ad, ALF from ClassicKidsTV, which has additional ALF links.

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.

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.