Scentzilla!

1.) Alan Cumming - Cumming

Sometimes I fear like I’m banging the drum for this fragrance as annoyingly as a Gunter Grass character. But I’m merely banging away for the fragrance version of a pleasurably rotten rainy day, which I hope is much less pedantic and insane. It’s muddy, it’s wet, it’s wonderful.

2.) Novaya Zarya - Barber of Siberia No. 3

This fragrance is an ode to a Russian film of the same name. It smells very much of a gin and tonic with lime, and though one can find similarly inspired gin and tonic fragrances, thus far this is the best one I’ve found. I think I even smell the quinine, though I’ll admit the possibility that this note may be imaginative conjuring.

3.) Czech & Speake - Dark Rose

Spiced rose on ice. ‘Nuff said.

4.) Hermes - Eau de Mervielles

I don’t regularly go for orangey fragrances, but I cannot fathom how anyone couldn’t submit to the beauty of Eau de Mervielles. It’s peppered wood heart belies its erstwhile sweetness in summer, lending it a more tawny beach-strewn driftwood feel.

5.) Versace - The Dreamer

The Dreamer should be regarded as a mess of a fragrance - and what a glorious mess it is. The tangled web of sweet shop and forest it spreads across the skin is all wrong in the best possible way. The Dreamer adopts a soapy tone in the high heat of the season, giving one a sanitary impression of what the candy cottage in the woods might look like to Hansel and Gretel if the old witch that lives there was a committed vegetarian.

6.) Penhaligon - English Fern

Listen, I’m not saying this is the most complex thing ever, but when the temperature hits triple digits Fahrenheit, the simple fougere just clicks with me.

7.) Carven - Ma Griffe

Vintage bottles of Ma Griffe can still be picked up for reasonable prices, thankfully enough. If you crave perfume complexity no matter what the weather, the spiced galbanum of Ma Griffe will satisfy without laying on the air like a wet wool blanket.

8.) Frank LA - Frank LA No. 1

Frank LA (now Frank LA No. 1, with the newish additions to the line) is another greeny fragrance, which entices me to the point of addiction. It’s got herbal salad tones that include the chopped green pepper of galbanum, it’s got incense, it’s got a smidge of nutmeg. Sound too heavy? Somehow it manages to slice a clear swath through the thick humidity and sleepy heat of even the hottest day. Rather than feeling oppressive, it invigorates, and wipes the smile that descending sweat melted off back onto your face.

9.) Guerlain - Sous Le Vent

For what seemed like ages, I had the worst time figuring out what I thought of Sous le Vent. Mostly because during the cooler weather the appearance of a note I sadly can only describe as asparagus pee-like popped up on my skin. But now with the rising mercury, that troublesome asparagus pee is no more! I’m left with a refreshing rush of green florals and herbs that overlap like waves greedily consuming one another on the incoming tide. It does play out as more animalic in summer than during winter, however, this is simply not a deal breaker for me. I find its indolic animal on sweaty summer human possesses the same negating effect as fighting fire with fire.

10.) Cote Bastide - Peche de Vigne

The peach orchards of Goldendale, Washington are not legendary, but they should be. During the peaches’ peak ripeness, they taste of honeyed blossoms as much as they do of fleshy fruit. Peche de Vigne grabs me with the same gravitational force as the wafting aroma from pallets loaded with Goldendale peaches.

To read some other great compilations of summer fragrance choices, please click on any or all of the links below:

• Aromascope

• Bois de Jasmin

• Now Smell This

• Perfume Posse

• Perfume-Smellin’ Things

Thanks to Marina for the graphic used at top!

Mizensir is the brainchild of legend-in-his-own-time perfumer Alberto Morillas. The Geneva based company offers an intriguing range of candles and home fragrance sprays, none of which I’ve tried outside of the Heliotrope Bleue candle. (Too little time, too little money, etc.)

Heliotrope Bleue smells not of actual heliotrope, but of an idealized, hyper-real impression of it. Where many heliotrope fragrances tend to overly fetishize the bloom’s sifted powder element, Morillas takes an endearingly different tack. Aniseed fills the heart of its aroma, but smells less licorice-like than one would think, and more… nutty? Yes, nutty. Paired with a vanillic lilt, the effect is reminiscent of almond biscotti. Hovering over the biscotti allusion like a halo, the pale glow of fresh floral notes linger in the air, having been trapped forever in a perfumer’s state of grace where there is no organic decay, no death.

In some ways, this candle embraces what I wanted the Lolita Lempicka fragrance to be, but wasn’t. Which? Is largely due to an errant and most unfortunate stale gym shorts note in Lolita Lempicka, that once noticed couldn’t be shaken off upon subsequent sniffs.

The candle is slow burning, but burns cleanly, with a delicate yet wide flung throw, and evenly melting wax. Even the wick doesn’t need to be trimmed all too often, as it seems to keep pace with the wax quite well.

I’m not sure I’ll be replacing this particular candle, which has nothing to do with its quality and everything to do with a now keen curiosity about the rest of the Mizensir line. Heliotrope Bleue smells charming, elegant, and as if a paragon of the word “cozy” itself… much like a good cafe or an intimate still life painting.

The following was written by my sister Sasha, otherwise referenced here by me as my favorite guinea pig:

Sitting in my car, searching for music that wouldn’t exacerbate my frustrations with traffic, I chose to listen to a lame P. Diddy commercial over lame pop music or most likely a lame P. Diddy single that could have been playing or “dropping” at that very moment on another station. He wanted you to buy Unforgivable for your dad on Father’s Day. Diddy said in the radio ad,”Your dad is number one so you should get him the number one smell good scent, Unforgivable.”

Now, when Puffy talks the world listens for some reason. But I am confused. Why is the number one smell good scent… unforgivable? What has it done? What is it doing now? Should I be worried?

But then I guess the number one smell good scent shouldn’t be Forgivable either: you might as well name it Tolerable, Not Too Pleasant But I Can Stand It, or I Can Take It If You Can.

For those of you not revolted by Puffy’s music and lifestyle, good news! He has two versions of Unforgivable that are apparently indistinguishable from each other. That’s right, YOU can choose the way YOU want to be Unforgivable in two totally unnoticable ways! Now, I must admit I find it strange he only has two Unforgivables, because I was totally prepared to “unforgive” him more than twice. On the other hand, I also find it odd that he wanted his personal scent to be… Unforgivable… twice.

However, I suppose I should consider the possiblity that Unforgivable was named to reflect Sean Comb’s music career. It is unforgivable that his half-assed attempt at “remixes” and production have most likely sold just as many records as his “inspiration” and victims’ originals; It is unforgivable that he can just grunt and moan in the background of another musician’s song and claim credit and originality. I theorize that since The Police or David Bowie do not have fragrances of their own for him to “remix,” he was forced to copy his own scent which is in turn apparently reminiscent of a fragrance called Creed Millésime Impérial. This leads me to wonder, if an Unforgivable III were made, would it end up smelling like a xerox of a xerox of a xerox? A reproduction that’s been through the copier so many times that the ink has faded and said document is neither legible nor helpful? I shouldn’t think too much about that.

P. Diddy offends me in so many ways I resent him. Obviously, he has his music career…..gross. He has a fragrance…grosser. Now, he has a few paragraphs I unfortunately felt compelled to write about him…grossest.

My message to you, Puff Daddy, is this: My father will not be smelling like you, Puff Daddy, or if you will, the daddy of puffs, even if it is your self-proclaimed number one smell good scent. When I think of gifting the man who bought me ice cream when I had a bad day or who drove me to and from softball practice, anything Unforgivable does not come to mind.

~ by SASHA

I love LOL Cats. Like, I know, it’s not in the least bit cool anymore, and given the number of spinoffs like LOL President and LOL Trek, the whole concept has totally jumped the shark by now. But, meh, I was never cool or hip to start with, so why let that stop me from deciding LOL Perfume is a necessary adjuvant to the phenomenon?

UPDATES at bottom of post!

These perhaps aren’t the best selections for a LOL Perfume, they were just the ones that came up first when I typed in general search engine terms for “perfume ads.” Have better ones you can make? Let’s include them! Hell, why not? Point me with a link to an ad or perfume image with your desired caption, and I’ll add it on! Or, if you have your own graphic editing software and a hosting site, direct us towards the link to your finished LOL Perfume.

UPDATES

From Donna, a spin on the old infamous Dana TABU ads:

Judith Muller’s Bat-Sheba (alternatively listed as “Batsheba” or “Bat Sheba,” and “Batsheva” or “Bat Sheva”) provides a great example of how easily excellent perfumes of the past can be forgotten, even amongst obsessive perfume and bottle collectors.

Her perfume house (listed in a 1968 business directory as Bat-Sheba Perfumes) was Israeli, based in Haifa, which makes my Bat-Sheba flacon a bit of a curiosity in a vintage collection filled mostly with French and American fragrances.

Bat-Sheba was released, I believe, in 1967. It was followed by “Shalom,” around 1970 (via POL and other sources), an eponymous fragrance simply titled “Judith Muller” in 1975 (via author Nigel Groom), and one called “King David” (year unknown)*.

I find later mentions of Muller releasing an “Esprit de Parfum” being distributed in 1992 by H. Stern jewelry outlets, a fragrance for the Budapest Opera Ball in 1990 (she hails from Hungary)*, and a special perfume titled “Jerusalem 3,000″ commemorating Israel’s 50th anniversary made in conjunction with the Israel Coins and Medals Corporation in 1997*. * Asterisked references via archived news releases.

Here at right, Ms. Muller is pictured happily guiding a 2006 exhibit on her work in Budapest (taken by user EuropeLaura at webshots.com):

Rumor has it that Judith Muller herself was not the sole creator behind Bat-Sheba and Shalom, but rather that Sophia Grosjman was the perfumer. Ms. Grosjman had only just begun her career at IFF at that particular time. Whether the rumors are true, I cannot say with any certainty, but if accurate would indicate a perfuming legacy that began with extraordinarily immediate and dazzling skill.

Bat-Sheba opens on a spicy aldehyde pitch, but quickly grows in intensity into a softly powdery and juicy floral heart. The fragrance further expands as it dries, revealing an incense-laden leathery base that smells the way an immaculately styled woman looks. Notes include aldehydes, jasmine, rose, iris (orris), vetiver, incense, and leather, among others. (If this was indeed composed by Sophia Grosjman, it would make an interesting comparison for those who are more familiar with her comparatively minimal and much more feminine approach in more famous later projects.)

Strangely, Bat-Sheba and other Judith Muller fragrances are not as highly valued by bottle collectors as one might think. The flacons are exquisite, hand painted to resemble antique Phoenician and Roman glass – one might guess the sheer aesthetic quality would attract a fair amount of attention. The old Muller bottles are variously colored, including pink, green, blue, and pretty pale lavender shades. But fortunately for perfume collectors these fragrances, though rare, do not create the sort of frenzy that, say, a presentation of Jacques Griffe’s Griffonage might stir.

I picked up this flacon for only $0.99 (if I recall correctly… it’s been awhile) $2.00 (Criminy, my memory is terrible, I could have just read my own old post at POL if I weren’t so freaking lazy) at a vintage resale boutique, which is fancy talk for a kitschy junk shop. I can see on the auction sites that while this little personal shopping whim turned out to be a great deal, the price tag on Bat-Sheba is still relatively undervalued. A casual perfume collector could pick up a bottle in excellent condition without having to pinch pennies on the rest of their monthly budget.

Although I wouldn’t normally advocate collecting simply for the sake of collecting, I do feel comfortable in suggesting others might enjoy discovering this relatively small, older Israeli perfume house for the outright fun of it. With the way perfume collecting has grown as a popular hobby, the Judith Muller house remains one of the few bargains out there. Bat-Sheba would make an interesting addition to any perfume hound’s library of knowledge.

There seems to be a handful of rote descriptions perfume ads use over and over to sell their wares: sexy, alluring, fresh, enchanting, etcetera… A while back I tried sitting down and listing some more colorful alternative adjectives to use. Alas, I wound up with a very short list. The harder I tried to find good words, the more I kept thinking instead of some terrible choices for perfume ad copy. So here is that list instead:

You may have read in the past few days about a little tempest of sorts regarding the existence of perfume blogger payola and swag. (Due to a family emergency which I prefer to keep private, I have been unable to spend much time reading on the computer, and was not aware there was any drama until late.) It’s been the subject of posts and vigorous commenting at Aromascope, Bois de Jasmin, Now Smell This, Perfume Posse, and Perfume-Smellin’ Things. It’s also been the subject of a lot of conjecture and debate on the perfume board at Makeupalley.

The initial blogger’s post that sparked what I’m going to go ahead and call a debate drew attention to a comment I had made 5 months ago on the Photo Matt blog. For those who don’t know, Photo Matt is the personal blog of the WordPress founding developer (the open source blogging platform Scentzilla uses) and a founder of Automattic (the company behind Wordpress.com and Askimet.) The post in question was very brief, and talked about click-through rates. My comment was actually a fairly emotional (on my part) response to something another commenter brought up, which wondered if people are mentally blocking out ads, then how long until they start blocking out the blogs themselves, too? With the rise of commerciality in blogging, this struck me, as a blogger who discusses consumer goods, as a very good question to ask.

To put my comment in a very personal context, I wrote it right in the midst of what felt like an onslaught of Christmas shopping PR agendas being delivered to my email inbox. There were offers for freebies of all sorts (not limited to perfume alone) sailing in, which was daunting enough… And then I was offered payment for reviews. These offers did not come directly through any perfume houses. They were extended by third parties. The first one I simply deleted immediately, as I figured they were nothing more than crackpots with a really bad idea. The second one I received (from a different source) wound up giving me the heebie-jeebies. I declined, and tried to offer up the unsolicited advice that this tactic was a questionable practice and not in their best interest to be making. I did so because I thought the party was misinformed about how blogs work. My advice brought back an apology, which was good, but it was bundled up inside the explanation that (and I’m paraphrasing) it wasn’t meant to offend, but that’s just how some other bloggers liked to do advertising.

Holy.

Crap.

WTF?!

I interpreted that as implicitly indicating that there were/are other bloggers accepting payment for positive reviews. My reaction was negative and visceral, so when reading the question brought up by the Photo Matt commenter, I wound up pouring out my concerns and worry what that sort of practice on such a limited blog topic meant for the whole of the blogosphere.

But the issue of direct payola is not the primary issue faced by bloggers. I believe it is rare, though its existence shouldn’t be denied simply because it is not overly prevalent. Yet.

The much more common practice of indirect influence of payola via freebies, or swag, should also be of concern to both bloggers and blog readers. I wish I had spoken up more about that in my comment, but at the time I was upset, and choosing the best wording ever was not my main objective. I was attempting to explain that if even such a small interest such as perfume attracts that sort of PR/advertising/marketing intrusion, bloggers on all subjects ought to remain wary. This practice may negatively influence the whole medium of blogging – not just perfume.

In fact, it was after I wrote that comment that I strengthened up the language in my own PR guidelines in order to leave no doubt in the minds of PR reps and readers alike where Scentzilla stands. Yet despite this, one somewhat prominent niche perfumery’s PR rep attempted to astroturf (see Wikipedia explanation here) on my blog, either in defiance or willful ignorance of my stated policy on the subject. The lesson I took from that was that the question of ethics falls squarely on the shoulders of bloggers. If there’s money to be made, companies’ PR wings will try to stick their fingers into the pot however they can manage.

I was not and am not inclined to name names. I would prefer not to risk sticking myself in legal hot water. Moreover, that’s not really the point. It’s a blogosphere wide concern; it’s not limited to perfume blogging only or to specific people, groups, or businesses. The issue is a ripe discussion topic, and I find it a compelling discussion to have for the health of blogging in general.

I regret that the comment left seems to have been taken and used by some individuals as a kind of ad hominem attack on all my perfume blogging peers. I am horrified that anyone would glean the assumption that ALL bloggers are engaging in unethical behavior; I was clumsily trying to say that I was highly persuaded that SOME bloggers in the fashion/beauty arena are. I’m disturbed that some folks have decided we’ve landed on some perfumed grassy knoll, and have consequently become conspiracy-theorists, when there in fact is no conspiracy. I do, however, understand that it may well come as a shock to some blog readers that free stuff (products, samples, etc.) may be offered to and accepted by blog authors. But it’s not as if some great big truth has been revealed. There’s no perfumed grassy knoll to become obsessed with finding, nor is there some imaginary Warren commission to rally against or around. Frankly, I find it disingenuous of some folks to feign naïve shock that there’s commercial interest in blogging when it’s plain that advertisements run all over many fashion and beauty blogs. The issue is a blogosphere wide issue, not one that is singular to fragrance blogging alone.

The giving and receiving of freebies, as well as blogger relationships with various PR firms and sponsors, raises interesting and pertinent questions about the supposed independence of bloggers. This is a valid area of concern. Whether or not any one individual blogger engages in these relationships and practices is irrelevant to the larger issue: Payola and swag do exist. Advertisers and PR will try in any way they can to control information about their products, and there are those who will accede to their attentions. Thus, all fragrance bloggers should look critically at the effect this has on our own blogging community, and more importantly, the blogging community at large. How does commercial attention shape the public perception of blogs as independent and personally driven media? How are these relationships influencing the conversation about our own chosen topics, both in tone and subject material? What kind of direction is the commercial attention driving us towards? Is that direction good, bad, or neutral? I ask, because right now there are more questions than ready answers, and we should be prepared to question ourselves about such things whether using the medium as writers or readers.

These are weighty issues to consider. The creeping commercial attention to amateur online reviewing is something every site owner should watch for as they navigate their way towards finding a personal code of ethics. I struggle with navigating those choppy waters frequently. It can be tricky, and it has not gotten any less tricky in the 3 years I’ve been blogging. If anything, it’s become more difficult as the beauty and fashion blog community has grown in size and diversity. Some sites are highly commercial, while others are less so. Therefore, relying upon the practices of your virtual blog neighbors when forming your own site’s guidelines may not always be the best or easiest solution.

This issue is not one that can be resolved by any one blogger categorically stating that PR, advertising, and its attendant weight of influence does not unduly cloud their judgment. What we need is a collective transparency as a blogging community if we wish to continue to be taken seriously.

The influence cash payments for posts can make on a blog is unequivocally direct. However, the influence a relationship with PR firms and their freebies might have on a blogger can be a danger as well. People may feel beholden to positively mention the products they receive. Others may feel compelled to construct or maintain an insider persona by repeating those firms’ press releases verbatim, possibly without considering the repercussions such posts may have within the whole sphere of a blogging community’s discussions. There is also the risk that some people may refrain from writing anything that could be construed as negative, because certain products may be carried by site advertisers. Perhaps, less obviously, there also exists the fear that if one pans a product represented by a particular PR firm, that PR firm (which may represent many brands) will sever their relationship entirely, thus cutting themselves off from a particular outlet for new information… or even more freebies, to be perfectly cynical.

Again, this is not to say every blog you read is run by unethical individuals, nor is it to say that every blog you trust doesn’t have to deal with these issues on a daily basis. It can be hard to find a balance on how to manage a site in a transparent but unobtrusive manner. Mistakes can and will be made – by both the scrupulous and the unscrupulous. But the blurry line between independence and commerciality can be confusing to follow for any blogger whose subject matter happens to be consumer goods. My own worry is that if the majority of perfume bloggers are all acting as willing synchronized cogs in one big giant PR machine, how long until the public simply begins to generally regard reading blogs akin to watching infomercials? Already there are blogs about other subjects that currently beg this question.

I suppose it’s worthwhile to point out that some beauty & lifestyle magazines also stray deeply into infomercial territory. Unfortunately, I think some fashion, beauty, and perfume bloggers try to take their stylistic and editorial cues from those sorts of magazines. Perfume blogs are not exactly Consumer Reports, but should this mean by default that they should follow instead after Allure, O, Lucky, etc? I’m not sure perfume bloggers should adopt whatever code of ethics they presume the editorial staff at those magazines take towards PR freebies, because I am not convinced that the standard there is entirely germane. While glossy mags may indeed receive press releases, products, and samples for mention in their pages, the editors do allegedly bend the content of those pages to kowtow to their advertisers. This is done without any of the transparency that might benefit their readers. In other words, the relative ethical practices of even the fashion and beauty print media can and should be viewed with a healthy amount of skepticism by bloggers. The idea they are the role model to follow is sketchy and a questionable suggestion.

Readers of blogs need to question themselves about the reliability of a blogger’s source of information and what motives a blogger might have in sharing that information. In most cases it’s a fairly benign motive: creative expression, and a desire to participate directly in the conversation about their favorite subjects. Reader awareness is as warranted for perfume blogs as any other type of blog. Enjoy the perfume blogs as possible sources of information and entertainment, but chose carefully how you read them. Because as a blog writer, I’m counting that your own personal bullshit detector will keep the honest and well-written blogs afloat while the rest all drift off into oblivion in a sea of homogeny.

Wait. Did I just say well-written? Crap. I just shot myself in the foot. Well, it was nice having you all visit Scentzilla while it lasted. Thanks for reading. Heh.

Hi, I’m not dead! Just looks that way, judging by how long it’s been since the last post was made. While I’m dilly-dallying over writing an actual perfume post, I thought I’d share some pictures.

Read the rest of this entry »

Ambre Antique is one of the earliest fragrances sold by Francois Coty. Ambre Antique was first introduced in 1905, and sadly, production of the fragrance dried up long before many of us were even born.

A brief glimmer of hope for resurgence appeared during the 90s when Bergdorf Goodman sold limited edition versions of classic Coty fragrances, including Ambre Antique. But they came and went within the blink of an eye. One could guess that much of this is due to two things:

First, Coty was a little ahead of its time. If they’d only known how big the perfume addict culture was about to explode in just a scant few years, they might have held on and persisted; One could argue that the market for such a project finally exists now. I honestly believe that market was not available in 1995, at least not to the extent that would result in acceptable, albeit niche-level, sales.

Second, it’s reasonable to surmise that much of any diminished sales figures are due to a general consumer reluctance to pay more than low double digits for anything labeled Coty anymore. For better or worse, Coty is nowadays synonymous with inexpensive ingredients and drugstore budgets, and our culture’s capitalist short-term memory disallows any particular remembrance of a time when Coty was considered edgy, prestigious, or adjective-of-your-choice implying “chic.” Public perception of the house of Coty acting as a ground breaker has long ceased to exist, primarily because the brand Coty has ceased to innovate in any meaningful fashion. While I would love to see Coty try once again to relaunch versions of their historical masterpieces, I fear they face an uphill battle. I think much of the sentiment towards their perfumery can currently be summed up as, “when I can’t/couldn’t afford anything better.”

The vague consumer disdain for the house and brand of Coty was not always so.

Coty’s Ambre Antique has a much broader appeal to modern noses than the infamously challenging Chypre, but it’s nevertheless a classic. Perhaps it’s like picking one Vermeer over another. One may personally speak to you more perhaps, but c’mon… they’re all Vermeers: The light of brilliance shines in them all.

The name itself is a bit misleading. Vanilla dominates the composition of Ambre Antique: rich, creamy vanilla, almost like an ice cream scooped onto the skin. It’s an amber float!

The top notes have faded from this bottle for the most part, but I’m guessing that bergamot, and orange blossom are hiding in there. (I stress the word “guessing” because I want to say “orange-y,” and I am an olfactory idiot and always say orange-y when in fact it usually turns out to be orange blossom/neroli.)

Insofar as I understand it, Amber Antique was originally made with actual ambergris. However, sniffing from my own latterly made bottle (mid-century?) indicates that at some point substitutions were made in favor of synthetics. The amber notations take the form of ambery-woody and ambery-incensey aromas. A dose of incense (likely the ‘num duo of labdanum and olibanum?) additionally breathes a darker aromatic feel into the fragrance. Civet in particular plays a huge role in shaping Ambre Antique’s dry down. Whatever one’s personal ambivalence towards sticking something that came out of animal’s hindquarters onto the skin might be, there is no denying the resounding thump it can give a fragrance upon landing at the bottom. Civet provides the skank here, but it’s the skank of fresh hay on a barn floor. Repellant? Maybe. But it’s still oddly clean and enjoyable.

And those dollops of vanilla never do stop melting, dripping right through the amber and the animal urgency of civet. It’s the sort of fragrance that asks of the wearer and passers-by, “Am I hungry or horny?” It’s the TV character Joey from Friends, in that, the response could happily go either way.

Writing about Ambre Antique brings me to a recent release, Hilary Duff’s With Love… Hilary Duff. It does distinguish itself from many of the celebrity fragrances, for its oriental character contrasts wildly against a dull field of fruity-florals and/or musky-clean efforts. But all the appreciation for it mystifies me. I have tried, and retried it since it came out, never finding much in it besides generalities. It’s pleasant but harmless, much like Ms. Duff herself. There’s little to it that marks it as idiosyncratically interesting in the big picture of perfumery. It’s the difference between Dane Cook’s style of bland humor that cause him call to chicken sandwiches “sangwiches” as any toddler might, and Patton Oswalt’s bit on how KFC’s “Famous Bowls” are patronizing us into eating like toddlers. The latter tells a story, the former simply seeks approval for that (a cheap catch phrase) which has already been approved. The difference comes down to risk. There’s a subtle danger when crediting an audience with the intelligence to discern and appreciate a specific voice: Being singular risks losing some folks. Hilary Duff… With Love doesn’t really risk much. It’s a “sangwich.” It’s only made out to look like a risk, and the result smells like a blithe catch phrase.

With Love roughly smells like orange-banana-pineapple flavored rock candy (the fruity note is officially listed as “mangosteen,” so okey-dokey) with a helping of vanilla over amber and a woody, musky base. It’s a warm and easily wearable fragrance; however, it doesn’t significantly come across as distinct. I feel like I’ve smelled it before, but can’t place where exactly. Maybe I’m getting old, forgetful. Maybe I’ve just become too jaded. Or maybe I’m under whelmed by too many of the eleventy billion new releases that keep coming out. Eh, let’s say it’s all of that. And I’m being far too harsh here. Hilary Duff seems like a nice person; Hilary Duff’s With Love is a nice fragrance. I guess maybe that’s my beef. I hate nice. There’s the stink of adequacy on nice.

If you like With Love… you will likely enjoy Calvin Klein Euphoria. They share a note and/or combination of notes that weirdly smell like vanilla and dusty “silk” flowers to me.

Yet, I’d like to recommend some other selections you might wish to also try if With Love has caught your fancy:

• Viktor & Rolf Antidote

• Fendi Theorema

• Jeanne Arthes Cassandra Blanc

• Givenchy Organza Indecence

And of course, if you want a piece of historical perspective,

• Coty Ambre Antique.