Scentzilla!

I threw my back out. Unfortunately, I threw it a loooong ways, as you can see from the completely scientific diagram below. As you can also see, the area of pain was all of my lower back, and being unable to bend at all led my children to amusingly claim “Mommy broke her butt!”

New posts will coming shortly, but I am going to try to spend part of today catching up on a couple weeks worth of stockpiled emails and reading the posts on my favorite blogs.

A PR release for a study by the University College London (UCL), via the London Centre of Nanotechnology (LCN), seemingly lends validation to Luca Turin’s controversial vibration theory of smell. (From December, but I only just noticed it, via a ScienceDaily notice.) It’s been interesting to watch the back and forth on smell theory the past several years, though admittedly for the non-scientific perfume nut, the interest is often shaded by what sometimes erupts as a verbal fisticuffs over the competing smell theories. Heh. (Rubbernecking ranks amongst the most popular of human hobbies, er, foibles, after all.) But it’s the debate itself, the discussion, that can drive further questioning and thus answers; It gives one hope that we might see a fleshed out and resolvable answer in our lifetime. And it’s the neat thing about scientific thinking: challenging both the prevailing and new theories can play an essential role in seeking solutions, rather than necessarily being a desultory action. Okay, okay, so *I* think that’s neat.

UCL PR Release: Rogue odour theory could be right

Physorg.com article: Quantum mechanics may explain how humans smell

Of course, no one has yet tried to prove or disprove my own favorite theory suggested by Ambrose Bierce:

“It has been observed that one’s nose is never so happy as when thrust into the affairs of another, from which some physiologists have drawn the inference that the nose is devoid of the sense of smell.”

The Devil’s Dictionary, definition of Nose, n.

Perhaps not a “rogue theory,” but certainly a theory from one of the best rogues of all time. (Incidently, because it has fallen out of copyright restrictions, The Devil’s Dictonary can be downloaded in full from Project Gutenberg. It can also be bought quite cheaply as a Dover Thrift Edition if, like me, you prefer to read in print.)

Seriously.

Make it stop.

If we’re now onto Bon Jovi endorsements, I can only imagine how bad this whole celeb perfume thing is going get. At least he’s saying it’s for charity.

Any guesses as to which celebrity will be the next to put out a fragrance? Or like me, do you just shudder to think?

David H. Pybus may already be known to some of you hardcore ‘fume addicts already as one of the co-authors (with Charles Sell) of “The Chemistry of Fragrances.” His newest book, “Transports of Delight: An Aromatic Journey in Verse From East to West on the Wings of Perfume,” is set to be released… well, today, actually! (Ordering can be done directly through the publisher at Global Oriental.) Outside of writing, he’s busy with all sorts of wide-ranging activities, from perfumery and training consultations, to cruise presentations, to what can only be termed as perfume archeology, uncovering long-lost fragrances from the past. (You can find out more by visiting his websites, pandoraltd.com or pisky.net.) He was gracious enough to allow me to pick his brain and ask a few questions: I’m honored to be able to publish his responses here.

You are a published author of two books already, the lovely “Kodo: The Way of Incense,” and the well-regarded “The Chemistry of Fragrances.” What was the motivation behind writing your latest book, “Transports of Delight?”

I am an aromancer- a dealer in aromas first and foremost. Whilst fragrances have been my career I am interested in getting the world to stop and smell the roses (or the coffee.) I guess it stems from my old hippie days. So one part of that is poetry which I started in Kodo. I travel the world as a cruise presenter and realised that we are a very vision and hearing dominant species. What I try and do is get passengers on cruise ships to take back aromatic memories with them too and TOD was the creative outcome of that.

I was as a chemist originally a frustrated artist and thespian. Fragrances are the art of science and chemistry expressed in a sensual way. I became a chemist as it was actually a creative form- as a kid I made my own fireworks! I have always loved good English grammar and Literature. It all grew from that melting pot. I’m also a bit of a romantic at heart. My two books (see below) on poetry have taken around three years on and off to put together- in between other projects.

Perhaps you might be willing to name some of your favorite poets in general, outside of just “scented” writings?

That’s a real toughie- I’m afraid as a guy I really don’t go for the “Ode to daffodils” type of stuff, but some work by Keats, Wordsworth and Shelley are very moving. Blake is powerful. I often find each poet has at least one poem that moves me. Cafavy’s though is still my favourite.

What do you find is the hardest part of attempting to transliterate aroma into words? Conversely, what is it that you find the easiest? Why do you think poetry is such a good fit for conveying and provoking the emotions that accompany our sense of smell?

Smell is sensual and as you know linked to our sexual gonads and seat of memory. What better drivers could you have for poetry. To quote Wordsworth:

The Prelude: ‘Spots of time’

There are in our existence spots of time,

Which with distinct pre-eminence retain

A renovating Virtue, whence,

… our minds

Are nourished and invisibly repaired

(Book XI, ls 258-278)

‘Spots of time’ for Wordsworth are past experiences through which he can trace his own development, as a man and as a poet, and which continue to resonate with new meanings many years after the events themselves.

I experience these spots of time with all my sensory faculties including the oft forgotten olfactory sense.

I’ve also grown up absorbing the language of aromas, which of course is stolen from art (hue,colour,vibrancy, texture…) and music (chord, dischord, notes, harmony…)

The phrase “Indiana Jones of perfume” pops up to describe you and connote your willingness seek out fragrances that would otherwise be lost to history. What are some of the more notably interesting perfumes you’ve uncovered? Which one do you feel possesses the most interesting story behind it?

The media describe me as such and it seems to have stuck. But i don’t mind as it’s basically a good description of what I do- except that my archaeological treasure happens to be scent. To be continued. Watch this space… but basically perfumes are transient, ephemeral beings. Open the stopper and they are lost in the arrow of time. They are caught in time by natural disasters. Earthquakes, shipwrecks, volcanic explosions. That and the far ends of the earth are where I seek my olfactory treasures.

My toughest adventure was calling in to Anne Sommers for my Indiana Jones whip!

I see you’ve given presentations on some of your “Indiana Jones” perfumery finds… What has been the most rewarding reaction from your audiences? What has been the most surprising to you?

Basically they queue up to buy and that has sent me down a different more commercial track. The appeal by age (of clientele not perfume) of certain fragrances is also obvious.

How did you become involved with the RMS Titanic, and the salvaging of one of the Titanic passenger’s fragrances? Do you have a particular favourite amongst these recovered perfumes, and could you describe it for us?

I simply worked as exclusive consultant to RMS Titanic and arranged for the transfer of the phials to England. One in particular which we code named “pink” is very like L’Origan by Coty with rose, violet, heliotrope, and mayflower. There was also an appealing male fragrance. However many of the phials were damaged beyond repair, or contained raw materials which would be considered too expensive (or toxic) nowadays! The perfumer who reworked them now works for Chanel. It is unlikely the Titanic fragrances will ever see the light of day commercially for many considerations.

In your book “Kodo, The Way of Incense,” you describe a great number of incense materials, but you also include concise descriptions of incense ritual and “games.” What was it about this subject that most attracted you to put pen to paper? What were some of the challenges in trying to explain a traditional custom of Japanese culture to Western readers?

I believe in synchronicity/serendipity- call it what you will- the Universal law of attraction. I wrote a small article on Kodo (not knowing at the time what it really was, but being intrigued by a picture in an old manuscript.) I got an email from a Japanese guy saying I was a very interesting foreigner (one up from being a barbarian) to know about Kodo and would I like to come to Japan to learn. This came from the oldest Incense Company in Japan who make for the Emperor, and the outcome was that having done a little research for them in the UK. I spent some time in their factory in Japan learning to grind the raw materials and then travelling, helping sell them in Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples. One fun thing was that I worked in the factory all week (it was dusty work!) with a T shirt from my visit to the US - it simply said NOLA (New Orleans Louisiana) NOLA in “anglicised ” Japanese means lazy worker! No wonder they all smiled at me. On my last day it was got through to me that Nara (the old capital) was the true end of the silk road - that’s when I got the idea for Kodo- the three ways of incense- the ceremony itself, the raw materials and collecting them along the route and the effect on the brain depending on how they are mixed and matched. Basically incense- the earlier perfume (derived from the Latin per fumum- through or by smoke) is a mind altering drug that just happens to be legal.

How do you incorporate your love of smell into your own life? Do you wear fragrance, and what are some of your favourites? Are there particular incenses (or other home fragrances) that you gravitate towards more than others?

Simple.

At present Aqua De Gio (sparingly as I do not want it to interfere with my overall appreciation of aromas around me) or Anteaus.

As for female?

• Youth Dew reminds me of my first love

• Miss Dior of my ex wife (we are still amicable) and

• My future lady (if she’s somewhere out there) probably wears something at the moment like Light Blue or Be Delicious.

Any Japanese incense with genuine aloes wood (eaglewood/agarwood) or Sandalwood appeals to me. Sweepings up from the factory floor of India do not.Genuine Nag Champa is also sensational.

It’s astounding to think of all the well-known writings that embrace our other senses - for example, Lester Bangs listening to music, Robert Parker tasting wine, and too many art critiques to even begin listing them. Why do you think our sense of smell is comparatively overlooked so often? It seems almost like our ability to smell gets taken so much for granted that we forget to appreciate it’s even there, let alone take delight in it and express that delight.

Basically its because we relate it to our “atavistic” animal senses and we are of course “civilised” (so called.) After all if we all got down on four “paws” and acted like cats and dogs it would be the end of civilisation as we know it. Indeed Sigmund Freud is quoted as saying that on casualty of civilisation is a diminution of our sense of smell. Our smell acuity drops off rapidly after around 60 (especially males) and like any other “muscle” - use it or lose it- so my advice is to take every opportunity to use your sense of smell - on food, the neighbourhood (and your neighbours!)

To me, one of the more fascinating portions in “The Chemistry of Fragrances” came at the very end, in the chapter called “The Brief Submission.” The chapter uses the creation of a hypothetical fragrance named Djinni as a device to explain some of what goes on in the briefs submitted when a company wants to launch a new fragrance. It seems almost counter-intuitive to us perfume nuts to begin with anything but solely the notes, or olfactive information. (And in truth, it felt that way in my own limited experience since I have, like, zero background in either fragrance or marketing.) How much do you think hangs on a well chosen name for a fragrance? How much do you feel the image and/or imagery behind a fragrance concept plays into its eventual success, or lack thereof?

Once the juice was the most important thing in the creation. Now it’s the wrappings (including the names.) I’m afraid too many C list celebrities put their names on perfumes and then the “marketing lovelies” get involved with their descriptions. Heard of “living Bartlett pear” - I can just see the poor old pear getting boiled alive in hot alcohol- or “pink musk?” Heard of pink elephants? You see them when drunk- but pink musk? I’m afraid it all demeans the true essence of perfumery. Also of course many are “built” (not created) down to a price and that means more synthetics and less naturals. This in itself is not a bad thing as synthetics (from oil, coal) were of course once natural, and nature identical copies nature too. But in naturals I feel there is an indefinable life force that cannot be weighed or measured, but simply makes all the difference to vibrancy- like everything in life you get what you pay for.

What other projects do you have in the pipeline for the future?

Led By the Nose is a book of over 100 comic verses written by yours truly again in an attempt to get people to stop and smell the roses. It is not published yet as there are five things wrong:

• Poetry is not appreciated

• Poetry which rhymes is doubly not appreciated

• Poetry which is Comic and rhymes is trebly not appreciated

• I am not a member of the Royal Family or a footballer (soccer player)

• Working the publishing industry in the UK is like swimming backwards through treacle (molasses)

Know any good American Publishers- I think we vaguely speak the same language (although spelling leaves a bit to be desired- what’s this “flavors” and “odors” stuff!)

I am so pleased with the artistic work of my co-worker Sergio Lievano on my book that I have taken up a distance course in cartooning. Not in any way to beat Sergio who is fantastic but simply to learn another artistic way of expression. See front cover of book attached.

I will leave you with the title poem (copyright of course) in the hope that your readers suitably enriched will be able to purchase the book later this year along with the more serious “Transports of Delight:”

For those of you who enjoy the holiday, happy Valentine’s Day.

For those of you who are a little more ambivalent about the whole thing, happy February 14th.

Please enjoy this link to a short film by Ze Frank, “Valentine’s Day.”

Now, if you’re only just now realizing that it is indeed the 14th, and the holiday has snuck up on you without the proper preparations, consider giving the Simpsons fans in your life a Ralph Wiggam approved Valentine card: “I Choo-Choo Choose You” courtesy of the web-goddess.

I received the following email, and while her description sounds eerily familiar to me, I am utterly unable to figure out why. Perhaps one of you could help Tina track down a beloved fragrance from her past?

I’m sure she’d appreciate any clues or remembrances you might be able to share. Thanks in advance!

Recipe for O’Henrys

This is a wonderfully quick dessert to make, and comes courtesy of the Old Mill Community Service Cookbook from 1984, credited to “Ed Thompson.” I have made made some modifications to the printed recipe, however. If I’m not baking brownies, this is the chocolate goodie I enjoy making in the Chezilla kitchen. I recommend using Ghiradelli semi-sweet baking chips, since I have the best luck personally with those. Other brands of course will work just fine if you have a preference for another brand. As far as peanut butter goes, I like using either Skippy smooth or Jif’s extra crunchy. I have made this with freshly ground peanuts, and with the natural peanut butters (like Adams) but I don’t think they turn out with as pleasing a texture. Hooray for emulsifying agents… or something like that. They do taste a little more nutty with a natural peanut butter, but eh, whatever. I’ve also tried the recipe with regular oats instead of quick oats, but you will need to slightly adjust the baking temperature and time accordingly, as well as using just a pinch more butter and sugar (Use your best judgement if you are accustomed to substituting regular for quick. If not, just use quick oats.)

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 1 cup peanut butter
• 4 cups quick oats
• 2 sticks butter (margarine will also work here)
• 1 1/2 cups white sugar
• 1 cup brown sugar

Mix oats, butter, and sugars well. Press together firmly in a 9×13 inch cake pan (my bias is towards Pyrex baking dishes), and bake at 350 F for around 12 minutes (depending on altitude, so again, use your best judgement.) After baking, set aside and cool for a minimum of 10 minutes, though waiting a half hour is best.

Melt the chocolate chips and peanut butter together. This can be done in a microwave, but monitor it carefully to avoid fried chocolate, and interrupt your microwave to intermittently give it a stir. (This is to make sure you obtain a smooth, lump-free result.) Using a stovetop pan to melt these is my preferred method, with medium or medium-low heat, stirring constantly.

Top the pan of oat mixture with your melted chocolate and peanut butter combo. Let pan to cool again and set in the refrigerator. Cut and serve. For best results, store in the fridge. However, once set, this can be kept in its pan on the counter with a lid if desired.

Hope you enjoy these!

I’ve long demurred from reviewing Thierry Mugler’s Angel, not because of its quality, but due to its ubiquity. Mugler’s extreme fragrance succeeds to the extreme.

As a consequence, rare is the perfume enthusiast unfamiliar with it. Angel cannot be avoided by those seeking to learn about perfumes any more than is the unavoidable figure of Bismarck when seeking to understand modern Western history.

“Angel” sounds in name like it ought to be another tiresome light fruity floral affair. The Dolemite strut of the juice itself is anything but. Angel will not suit wallflowers. It cannot be worn, nor does it wear you: Angel becomes you.

Much could be made of Angel’s use of ethyl maltol, a sweet candy dispenser of an aromachemical that perversely gives the rest of this dense composition its kick in the crotch. However, I’ll leave discussion of aromachemicals up to the more technically-minded folks, since “kick in the crotch” is not likely to enter the official lexicon of perfumery. Angel begins with a layer of virtual floral tones that eschew the weight of tangible and real petals. This airy layer spins off into the composition’s infamous chocolate, buried berried treasure, and of course, the pungent funk of patchouli intermingling with burnt sugar confections in the base. It’s the anguish of this candied sweetness in the base that I think causes Angel’s detractors more pain than the chewy notes of chocolate and patchouli; Conversely, it is also what delights its devotees.

Catching the sillage off an Angel wearer is an unmistakable experience. You know it right off, and despite Angel’s many progenies it can be mistaken it for none other. Where many of the the homages to it focus more on explicitly gourmand aspects, Angel doesn’t sway from its essential character as a perfume. It evokes hungry thoughts, but does not immedietly evoke food.

It’s a fantastic trick to pull off.

Sniff Missioni’s effort, and one looks around for an unwrapped Terry’s Chocolate Orange. (Although, ugh. I actually hate those things, and would rather lick the inside of a gym sneaker… but I digress.) Catch a whiff of Serendipitous, and you want a mug of hot chocolate. Sniff Flowerbomb, and you wish you had a wee nibble of cake, please. But upon inhaling Angel, you long after a general and undefined more, whatever that is, greedy for sensual pleasures that can’t be written on recipe cards. It is a fragrance that reveals the wearer as both ravenous and ravishing at once.

When I visualize what a mental snapshot of Angel looks like, I picture a stiletto heel crushing out a brownie like a cigarette. Sex and food transliterated as attitude. And fabulously so. It’s what Eddie Izzard might call a “fuck off” perfume.

None of this is to say that one can actually escape its gourmandise delights. Chocolate, oh divine chocolate…

After reading an excellent expose on the Noka Chocolate line last month at the Dallas Food blog, (warning: while it is a great piece, one has to accept the author’s “gotcha” tone throughout the series.) I was craving chocolate like a crazy woman.

Sure, I could have picked up some Green & Black (Or not. Skip their “Dark 70%,” because, ewwww. It gives a weirdly beany off-taste to me, like bad canned limas or poorly prepared edamame. No lie. If you’re stuck with grocery store options, try the Ghiradelli baking bar, which is cheap but tastes surprisingly nice. Or Green & Black’s own baking bar, which I think tastes better than their “regular” bar, funnily enough.) Or for that matter, I could have bought Dagoba, Valrhona, Endangered Species (fine brands all) or any of those other brands available at the local brick and mortar shops, but… honestly? I wanted something different, off the beaten path.

Upon the recommendation of the Dallas Food blog, I headed over to Chocosphere.com. (And I will second his recommendation: I couldn’t have been happier with their service. A fun range, competitive pricing, great shipping options. Moreover, they’re based just over the river in Tualitin, OR, and it feels nice to still be patronizing an area business even if it’s over the web-o-nets.) Please note, while I purchased everything listed through Chocosphere, I’m hyperlinking to official sites, and their specific item pages when possible for the sake of non-US readers.

My favorite selection was easily Michel Cluizel’s whimsical Mushrooms. Chewy caramel fills the stem, and crunchy crispy almondine makes up the mushroom’s cap. They are enrobed in a blanket of white and dark chocolates… and enshrouded in deliciousness. If you try them and don’t find yourself addicted, then… I don’t know what to say to you. They make my mouth weep with happiness. (Which is super-secret code to avoid saying “drool.”)

My boys’ favorite bar, and one I enjoyed deeply as well, was Domori’s Dark Chocolate and Green Jasmine Tea, from their Ethnics line. The flavor of the tea doesn’t make itself completely apparent until the aftertaste, which surprised me since generally chocolatiers in the U.S. tend to make secondary flavors quite explicit. The texture felt like silken velveteen, with the tea leaves providing a subtle stray crunch or two in each square.

However, the dark chocolate I gravitated most towards was Amedei’s Chuao. The flavor of it popped like a champagne cork on my tongue, its bitterness coming on with a rush of smooth plummy connotations. It’s a very rounded flavor, but definitely not flat, and perhaps a wonderful bar to try if you fear dark chocolate.

I also tried Bonnat’s Puerto Cabello, a wonderfully berry-inflected chocolate, though I found the texture wanting, for it felt a bit too waxy for my taste and a little granular. I’d actually love to make brownies with this, to take advantage of the flavor while losing the texture inside a chewy mass of flour and sugar. Also tried were Domori’s Porcelena (soft but rich, with cherry pipe tobacco and creamy bread pudding like undertones) and their Cru Rio Caribe (complex, bright, but loud, disjointed, and strangely unappealing compared to the much more suble and enjoyable berry tones of the Bonnat I tried.) I also picked up a box of Galler’s funny little Cat Tongues for the boys, but alas, they take after their mother more then their father taste-wise, and were less than compelled by milk chocolate. They like M&Ms, so I thought maybe? But no. Give ‘em the straight stuff or don’t bother. Anyhow, my husband enjoyed them, though he too has fallen completely under the spell of those delighful Cluizel mushrooms.

So… uh, got any good chocolate? Because while I intended for this splurge to last, it doesn’t appear it will. Which is kind of sad. Okay, very sad. So spill the cocoa beans: Which chocolates are on your favorites list? What’s your worst choco-addiction? Lay it on me.

(For the record, I’m picky, but I’m not a snob. I lurve Violet Crumble candy bars, embarrassing as that is. It’s not embarrassing because of the taste, they’re scrummy, it’s just that the honeycomb gets stuck in the back corners of my mouth, which has the unfortunate effect of making me look A LOT LIKE MR. ED the entire time I’m eating one. I avoid public Violet Crumble consumption whenever possible.)

If you’re wanting a little inspiration for something new, too, try reading the reviews at seventypercent.com. I know everyone likes to make comparisons between perfume nuts and wine snobs, but I swear, those marvelous chocophiles are truly kindred spirits.

Image top is a screencapture from flash demo at thierrymugler.com. Second image from chocosphere.com.

Confidential to angry swarm of Shania Twain fans: I saw fragrance sets of Shania on clearance endcaps at Fred Meyer’s (Kroger) which I say not to be snide, but because discounts are awesome.

“Is jasmin, then, the mystical Meru - the centre, the Delphi, the Omphalos of the Floral World? Is it the point of departure - the one unapproachable and indivisible unit of fragrance? Is jasmin the Isis of flowers, with veiled face and covered feet, to be loved of all, yet discovered by none? Beautiful jasmin! If it be so, the rose ought to be dethroned, and the inimitable enthroned queen in her stead. Revolutions and abdications are exciting sports; suppose we create a civil war among the gardens, and crown the jasmin empress and queen of all.”

Charles Dickens in Household Words, 3 July 1857¹

Guerlain’s discontinued Jasmin, introduced in 1928, is a stunning example of what a soliflor can be. You can peruse shelves nowadays and find any numer of waters and toiletries labeled “jasmine,” but most disappoint the flower itself. They smell cheap, thin, and resemble the jasmine blossom about as much as a drag Bugs Bunny resembles a woman: only the naif Fudd is fooled by the ruse.

Jacques Guerlain acknowledged jasmine as delicate and substantial in his ode. Tender green leaves curl open; Fresh wild blooms litter the green spray with budding dots of color. Within seconds the whole composition is transformed into a yellow carpet of fragrance. The aroma bears a distinct creaminess that funnily calls to mind the texture of homemade pudding. (Cait, in her review of it at Legerdenez, aptly referred to a banana-like aroma to it.) Indolic and animalic tones spring gently from this fragrance. These tones smell of skin on skin, though Jasmin doesn’t smell skanky: She’s not a whore. (Or for that matter a wascally twansvestite wabbit.) Guerlain’s Jasmin is like Dickens’ beautiful garden goddess, a mysterious beauty seperated from others.

Alas, I must admit that I become a bit anosmic to parts of the scent quickly, unless I constantly “refresh” my nose. But that is only a word of warning when sniffing, not a warning against hunting the ol’ gal down for yourself. (The eBay seller, Dragonfly Scent Me is selling samples of the EdT, by the way.)

My thanks to March, who’s own take on this Guerlain classic can be read over at Perfume Posse.

¹Source: ‘A Romance of Perfume Lands, or, the Search for Capt. Jacob Cole”, by F.S. Clifford, 1880, p. 218

Images: Top photo taken by and uploaded to Flickr under a Creative Commons license by Laurence Shan. Filmstrip images compiled from the Looney Tunes classic, Rabbit of Seville, with Elmer Fudd’s scalp of red flowers replaced with yellow

Firstly, I have to share my excitement about the Valentine’s Day present I picked out for my husband. I wanted to get him something different, something new: a gift he’d never received before. He is in for the surprise of his life this year.

On February 14th, I’m going to give him The Clap!

However, if gonorrhea isn’t really your cup of tea but you’d still like to surprise that someone special in your life, nothing would bring a bigger smile to your Valentine’s face than discovering you shared a little syphilis with them. It’s so cuddly!

You give it with the confident knowledge that from now on, whenever they think of syphilis they’ll think of you…

… and Valentine’s Day. Or, as I like to call it,

V-D.

Moving along, then.

Snow, glorious snow. It’s both wonderful and disturbing in its quantity this year. The most recent rash of snowstorms dumped enough for us to really have some fun it it.

Not Fred, though. Oh no.

When he was younger, you couldn’t keep him out of the stuff. The last time we got great fluffy piles of it like this, he was only about 1 1/2 years old. He romped and frolicked in it with gleeful abandon. It took me, my parents, my sister and a neighbor kid to finally corral and contain him, and jerk him back indoors. (Yes, five of us. That’s one human to every 2 pounds of renegade dachshund.)

Now he’s old and cranky, and he was mightily pissed off at me for letting his yard become a crystalized wasteland. He did some of his, uh, business outside (and snorting indignantly about it the whole time) then ran mere inches back inside the door to piddle on the carpet. Bladder of RAGE!

It’s said* that Hell hath no furry like a wiener dog scorned.

He immedietly padded over to the cupboard for a cookie since he knew he deservered one. For his tribulations, you understand. A dog will forgive a great many things, but never, under any circumstance, should you be absolved of the sin for making him cold and wet. Chop off his balls, and he’ll gratefully curl into your lap on the way home from the vet. But cold plus wet? Forget about it. He’ll hate you until the spring thaw.
Onto actual perfume topics. Finally, right?

In this unusual cold, I’ve been wearing L’Instant Eau de Noel Iris Millesime for the past couple days.

The last time I tried L’Instant Noel was during more temperate temperatures, and it didn’t really work as well on me then. The base, specifically the vanillic element, encroached too deeply into the balance in the warmer weather. I liked it, just not enough to commit to a full bottle. Now that it’s this freaking cold, I can see why folks snapped it up like so many imaginary hotcakes.

The cool earthy tones of orris (iris) seem to reflect against the white winter chill well. Orbiting the featured orris are satellites of white floral notes that include jasmine, ylang, and magnolia. The base acts rather like a jewelry setting: It’s lovely and decorative, but ultimately shows off the sparkle of the showcase notes. Ambery wood and vanilla provide a steady static background for these notes to best shimmer and glow.

L’Instant smells of secret invisible winter blooms. The spring appears less distant; One only needs a spritz to figuratively coax hibernating iris bulbs to break through the frozen earth and remind oneself that the trees are only napping.

The staying power is ridiculously good on my skin. I share a single spritz between wrists and it lasts pretty much all day. However, most fragrances with a tangible vanilla note tend to stick like glue on me, so if anyone’s experience is otherwise, do share please.

(My other standby snow perfume, apparently, is Comme des Garcon Man 2, which positively sings more and more brilliantly the colder it gets. What an underrated, unusual gem it is on the “masculine” side of the fragrance counter.)

I have also been trying Jacques Fath’s Chasuble off and on for the past couple months. Or so. It took over six months to work up the nerve to crack open the still sealed bottle I found. Why would anyone have such goofy pangs of anxiety over than? Well, I’d been longing to try it for ages, and once I finally had it I was intimidated. What if I never find another bottle again? What if it was ruined? What if it was brilliant?

I’m both thrilled and sad to say that it is not ruined, and it is indeed brilliant.

I kept finding new little turns to it to appreciate, and can’t figure out what to say about it that will fully explain it. So, I’ll do what I always do, and empty out the cluttered junk drawer that is my brain. (There’s a lot of stuff in a junk drawer, but 99% of it isn’t really needed for anything in particular.)

I peg Chasuble as a wonderfully rich incense fragrance. On the top is a brief aromatic balsamic flash of mentholic pine that only slowly dims as the heat of skin warms the composition. The incense at its very core displays as unlit resin turned liquid over the middle period of wear. A peachy thread also runs through the heart, though it doesn’t disturb the incense. Rather, it filters in a brightly colored light across it. The peachy allusions quietly stream down as it dries, until it’s transmogrified into a different fruit altogether, reminding me of a cedar-plank baked yellow apple. The fruity element here is delicately laced into the other notes. On the drydown, rich woody and ambery vanillic notes emerge, and the incense finally feels lit, taking a slightly smokey turn. Chasuble wears as if in deliberate and meaningful ceremony.

It is a heady, swoon-worthy oriental fragrance. And it is as close to a personal Holy Grail perfume as I’ve ever gotten thus far. Which seems fitting. A chasuble, of course, is the vestament a priest or holy man wears during religious services. Being a rather irreligious person myself, Chasuble strikes me as a perfume nut’s ideal substitution for sanctity, when worshipping at the alter of fragrant revelation.

*I said it. Just now. Therefore, it is said, right?