The Sexiest Perfumes

Its a frequently asked question on the fragrance board at MUA, something along the lines of: "which fragrance is a man magnet? what do you consider to be the sexiest perfume? what scent gets the most compliments?" Usually the question comes from a newbie or someone visiting from another board. Many times the question is answered with jokes, such as "bacon" or "beer" or "just get naked." The question of what is a sexy perfume is asked so often it's hard for board regulars to bother answering it. Mostly, when a few good souls take the time to answer, something along the lines of "wear whatever makes you feel good," is the response.

Wearing what makes you happy and therefore feel good and sexy is the correct answer. But occasionally I get to thinking about what constitutes a generically sexy scent. I've come to the conclusion that a sexy fragrance is one that smells man-made, not something realistic like a soliflore or a specific aroma in nature. I wouldn't consider a scent that smells like true red roses or honeysuckle or peach salsa or cedar wood chips to be sexy. I do, however, think orientals and florientals are the sexiest scents. Chypres, to me, are fragrances one wears for herself. I can't imagine any chypre I own as sexy. Chypres are too complicated, intelligent, wanting to talk. Big aldehydic fragrances are too prissy and pulled together. I adore Le Labo Aldehyde 44 *because* it makes me feel dressed and complete, not undressed in a dimly lit room. I don't think anyone thinks hesperedic or green fragrances are sexy - I wear these to feel fresh and practical.

Here's my list of sexy orientals and florientals:

(in alphabetical order)

Alahine by Teo Cabanel - Alahine is a smoldering aldehydic amber with floral notes woven throughout. It's noticeable, warm and perhaps equally as sophisticated & refined as it is sexy. Alahine makes your skin hot and your mind wander. It's classic with a racy undercurrent. (Alternatives: hmmm, not really similar but picking up on the amber theme - maybe Laura Mercier Minuit Enchante or Parfum d'Empire Ambre Russe but these are less polished)

Alien Liqueur Limited Edition - Alien Liqueur is hypnotic. It's the original Alien with a boozy, woody bent. It's heavy lidded and languid. It's sweet, spicy and addictive. (Alternative: Dior Addict)

Amarige by Givenchy - Amarige is perfume wearing stilettos. It doesn't whisper come hither, it announces it with a husky voice ala Kathleen Turner circa Body Heat. (Alternative: Jean Paul Gaultier Classique)

Barbara Bui Le Parfum - Barbara Bui is probably the most low-key and whisper-y type of sexy fragrance I can think of. If you don't want a potent perfume then this is your answer. Barbara Bui is all about the smell of your lovers undershirt and pillowcase. (Alternative: Costes)

Chaldee by Jean Patou - Musky and sweet, warm and animalic, slightly dirrrrty. Chaldee is an olfactory negligee. (Alternative: Bond No. 9 Fire Island)

Divine eau de parfum - Bombshell tuberose-oriental. Hollywood Glamour. (Alternative: maybe Chinatown, not completely sure)

Gucci eau de parfum - Gucci is a sensual skin scent extraordinaire. It's musky, sweet, herbal, spicy and becomes you. Gucci melts into your skin. If I could have sex with Gucci eau de parfum, I would, but then you'd think I was weird.

LouLou by Cacharel - another Hollywood Glamour scent here. LouLou is a bit less extravagant than Divine. LouLou might wear fishnets under her tailored suit and carry an old fashioned cigarette case in her purse for the occasional dalliance over coffee.

Monyette Paris - Now this is one of the most overtly floral of the bunch. Monyette is predominantly gardenia focused scent but it veers away from big in-your-face florals and falls firmly in the camp of sexy with it's luscious nag champa and mind altering musks.

Musc Ravageur by Frederic Malle - In some ways, Musc Ravageur is similar in style to Gucci edp. MR is a sweet, vanillic musk with what seems like layer upon layer of different musks. There's a stage of Musc Ravageur when sniffing it numbs my nostrils like novocaine or some such thing (surely the clove). It's a naughty scent, pure and simple. (Alternative: not particularly similar but a runner up: Chanel Coromandel. Perhaps the only Chanel I find sexy).

Songes by Annick Goutal - Another overtly floral fragrance - almost too floral to be sexy but it manages a kittenish little shimmy towards the dark side with it's buttery tuberose, tropical frangipani and indolic white florals. (Alternative: Penhaligons Amaranthine)

I didn't include these in the above list, but obviously Shalimar should be included and the following masculines strike me as having the ability to make a bombshell out of a guy: Hermes Terre d'Hermes, Fahrenheit (don't shoot me), Parfums MDCI Invasion Barbare, Fresh Index Tobacco Flower, Creed Tabarome, Annick Goutal Sables and Caron Yatagan.

So, what fragrances do YOU think are sexy? Do you care? Do you avoid fragrances like these? Can we even define sexy perfumes or are they, like most things, entirely individual? What I'm wondering, is whether there is a culturally agreed upon type of scent which strikes most as sexy. Hmmm...

SOIVOHLE' is inspired

SOIVOHLE' is the perfume line created by Liz Zorn. Soivohle' is an acronym standing for: Sending Out Inspired Vibrations Of Healthy Loving, pronounced “see-vo.”

Liz Zorn is an indie perfumer who is making waves in my perfume wardrobe. I often read other perfumistas lamenting that “such and such new perfume is just ‘meh’ it isn’t different or edgy enough.” Here’s my suggestion: if you want to smell some unusual and difference fragrances, that are obviously made with the highest quality ingredients, get yourself some Soivohle’.

Zorn makes two different perfume lines; a natural line (100% natural without synethics) and a moderne collection (mix of both naturals and some synthetics). Personally, I’ve found treasures from both lines, and I’ve also found the longevity of her fragrances to be very good, especially for the naturals.

Zorn seems fearless. She creates some funky, edgy, artistic perfumes. Soivohle’ scents are breathtakingly realistic and abstract at the same time. I know that might not make sense, but I’m confident it will, once you her smell her work.

GREEN OAKMOSS – from the moderne collection
Green Oakmoss is the fragrance I was most excited to try. Initially, I was concerned it would be bland and flat, because oakmoss is generally used as a basenote, not meant to be the whole ensemble. But this is, indeed, a whole perfume, based upon the idea of the scent of green and oakmoss. It doesn’t just smell like the essential oil of oakmoss but instead contains it’s own top, middle and basenotes.

This stuff is genius. It starts off with an earthy green, almost black tea/bergamot vibe atop a mound of moss. Green Oakmoss isn’t particularly dirty or skanky, it’s a clean rendition of oakmoss, much like dirt doesn’t actually smell “dirty” when you’re gardening and scoop up a handful of soil.

I love Green Oakmoss, I think it’s brilliant. I enjoy wearing it solo, but it also occurs to me that you could layer it with other fragrances that you think need an injection of green earthiness. Sillage and longevity are very good.

ACOUSTIC FLOWER – from the moderne collection
Acoustic Flower is a fragrance originally created by Zorn a few years ago as a bridal scent, then reworked a bit and introduced as it is now. She describes it as a gardenia soliflore but I smell much more going on here. In fact, call me crazy, but for a millisecond, it bears similarity to Amarige by Givenchy, which is a floriental, created by Dominique Ropion. Now, many people hate Amarige, but I happen to love it, so any similarity with Amarige is an enormous compliment coming from me.

Acoustic Flower is potent, sweet and sassy. I think it smells like gardenia, jasmine and tuberose, although I know from reading Zorn’s notes that tuberose is not in the mix. As much as I love Amarige, these days it seems I adore the memory of it, because it’s a bit cloying and synthetic smelling. Acoustic Flower strikes me as a stripped down natural version of Amarige, one I can wear. Sillage and longevity are very good.

HONEYSUCKLE BIRD – from the moderne collection
Honeysuckle Bird is a sweet, floral, uplifting and joyful fragrance. The notes are listed as honeysuckle and white lily but once this fragrance dries down I smell the most delicious golden honey elixir. I mean thick golden amber colored honey in one of those ball mason jars sitting on the window sill with sunshine gleaming through it. Honeysuckle Bird is luscious.

GENUS ORCHIDACEAE – from the moderne collection
Ok, this is one of the strangest perfumes I’ve ever smelled. I really like it, and yet it sickens me a little bit. It causes me to keep smelling it over and over again, because I’ve never smelled anything like it before.

I hardly have the words to describe it, but here goes. Vanilla comes from an orchid plant. It is an orchid which produces the vanilla pods and long threadlike “beans” that are used in cooking and perfumery. Therefore it’s natural to combine vanilla and orchid together in a fragrance. Genus Orchidaceae seems organic and alive and causes me to visualize a gigantic vanilla orchid plant, much like the monstrous plant from the play Little Shop of Horrors.

Genus Orchidaceae smells sweet, vanillic, and green; but this is a textural green, one I can physically touch, the meaty soft petals and thick pale green shoots jutting out of the moss and bark. This green is very far from your usual perfumery green, it’s more like the feeling of bamboo shoots or hearts of palm in your mouth.

Surely this seems odd. An explanation might be that I grow orchids, I have about 26 plants, so I’m well acquainted with them. Zorn has captured an orchid plant in an almost supernatural way. I’m a bit haunted by Genus Orchidaceae. It is very sweet – about the same level of sweetness as Serge Lutens Chergui – and perhaps there is a similarity between these two scents – because while I also like Chergui, I find it a bit sickening, too. Maybe sickening isn’t the right word – perhaps a better word is haunting.

Another Soivohle' fragrance that I'm working on finding the words for is Purple Love Smoke. This stuff is very interesting. I need more time with it before I can write anything though. I'm also trying Tobacco & Tulle as well as Violets & Rainwater and her newest Mexicali Rose. Zorn has created an amazing palette of fragrances that just seem to keep getting better and better.

PHOTO CREDIT: above photo by Nathan Branch of www.nathanbranch.com

A Letter to Dominique Ropion

Dear Dominique Ropion,

Two of your works of utter genius have, over the years, come to smell like “me.” First, there was Givenchy Amarige, which I wore non-stop in the mid-90’s, then, more recently, came Carnal Flower, which is so breathtaking and addictive that I’ve owned and drained 2 large bottles since 2006. (2 large bottles might seem like a bigger feat if you knew how many bottles I have).

Just this year, I found Caron Aimez Moi and Lalique Le Parfum and I will never be without either of these gems. Both Aimez Moi and Lalique Le Parfum are slightly less overtly vivacious compared with your other creations but each spotlight that trademark Ropion gorgeousness.

Thierry Mugler Alien is among the only jasmine fragrances that I love. In fact, it took a Ropion jasmine, in the form of Alien, to let me see and wear the beauty of a jasmine fl-oriental. Dominique, I didn’t even realize Alien was your work until recently, I should have known all along!

I’m still considering one of your creations, Une Fleur de Cassie. I haven’t ventured outside of the house wearing this yet ~ and I’m not sure if I love it or hate it ~ but Cassie has engaged me, held my attention, and it won’t let me go.

Vetiver Extraordinaire is just that, an extraordinary interpretation of vetiver. It stands out in the crowd, it sings, it’s a masterpiece.

Dominique, do your creations reflect your own personality? I admire the gregariousness of your scents. I enjoy the voluptuous, flirty, sexy, femininity captured in your perfumes. Your fragrances aren’t shy by any means, they love the attention, they’re comfortable in the spotlight, but they’re always warm and kind. Ropion perfumes aren’t introspective or subtle, they’re sociable, to be enjoyed in the company of others.

Rather than following the modern trend toward more discreet, sparse fragrances, you’ve continued to create big, multi-faceted, exaggerated scents. For this, I salute you. To me, a good perfume projects and has sillage. Your works can be counted on for proper projection and sillage. To this extent, your art contains a practical element, and I couldn’t be more delighted.

Carnal Flower, Alien & Amarige each strike me as exaggerated versions of flowers. Carnal Flower is tuberose under a microscope with big chunks of imagination; Alien does the same for jasmine and Amarige does the same for mimosa & orange blossom. The exaggerated flower analogy makes me think of Georgia O’Keefe and her flower paintings. O’Keefe painted enormous renditions of flowers, as if under a fantasy microscope, so a white petal wasn’t just a big white petal, but instead the detail of all the colors that came together to affect that beautiful white; the blue, pink and gray along with the white.

Dominique, this was meant as a note of gratitude and admiration. You’re a genius perfumer. And, just as important, never lose your gift of exaggerated beauty, and do continue creating fragrances that project and last.

Yours truly,
Abigail

PS: if you’re taking requests these days, I’m still hankering for a gorgeous osmanthus, or another mimosa jewel or perhaps an intriguing linden? Just thought I’d ask…

TWRT 12.5.08

I’m just not a white floral type. I wore Parfums de Nicolaï Number One today. It’s an award winning and beautiful perfume but it just doesn’t compel me to wear it again. I like it, but it’s not me.

Jo Malone’s Pomegranate Noir seems perfect for the holidays. The scent actually reminds me of Christmas.

Andy Tauer. OMG. I’m now a big fan. Vetiver Dance (gorgeous) and L’Air du desert Marocain (sublime). Vetiver Dance morphs quite a bit – it actually became stronger the longer I wore it and turned into such a different fragrance once dried down.

Liz Zorn’s (SOIVOHLE’) newest fragrance called Tobacco & Tullel is on my must try list. Notes are: Ambrette Seed, tonka Bean, cumin, cassis, valerian, jasmine absolute, sweet almond, rose, guiac, cedar, orris butter, cruelty free beach harvested ambergris, natural green oakmoss.
I’m wondering about the cruelty free beach harvested ambergris though ;-)

I’m annoyed about paying $10 for the newest installment of The Guide. I know it’s only $10. But still.

After I wrote the review of the three mimosa scents yesterday I had to talk myself down from purchasing 3 bottles of the Harvest Amarige. I worry, you know? There are only so many bottles of a limited edition.

Dexter is in the trunk. Seriously, did you ever think that would happen? I’m so excited for Sunday night.

I saw Zack & Miri make a porno – not so funny. In fact, I tend to over think movies and became disturbed afterwards. Why is Seth Rogan such a hot commodity right now? He doesn’t do anything for me.

I went to a diner last night (random fact: New Jersey has more diners than any other state in the U.S.) and even though Thanksgiving has just passed and I should be so tired of turkey I ordered an open face turkey sandwich. I don’t think I’ve ever ordered anything different from a diner.

Like sunflower seeds? You’ve got to try these amazing chocolate covered sunflower seeds called Sunny Seed Drops. I bought some from Whole Foods Market then found them online from Nuts Online for much cheaper. A great holiday gift.

I love Beauty Habit. Their 25% off sales have been wonderful (and painful).

Dior Addict: A Review

It was only a matter of time before I got to Dior Addict. I’d guess that anyone who loves Loulou, Amarige and other big, loud floral-orientals would be inclined to like Addict. Addict is an attention getting fragrance. It’s a sultry, sexy, spicy, complex vanillic fragrance. I love Addict.

Don’t get the wrong impression of me. I’m not the woman in the office that everyone gags when they’re around because of the headache-inducing cloud of perfume surrounding her. I wear all types of fragrances and they aren’t all loud. I certainly don’t over-apply the uber-strong ones – but, without a doubt, there’s a place in my heart for certain fragrances that so many love to hate. Like Angel for instance – love it.

Addict is a rather difficult perfume to describe. It’s complex and smells differently from person to person and from day to day. Overall Addict is a citrusy-vanilla-floral-oriental. The structure of Addict reminds me of Angel. By this I mean it’s an addictive (I had to use addictive just once!) combination of traditionally feminine and masculine notes. Addict has a good dose of heady florals and vanillic sweetness, the typical feminine stuff, but it also contains a balancing amount of dry ambery woods, and it’s this combination that makes it so good. If Addict were solely a sweet sticky floral-vanilla I’d surely find it gaggity. The addition of the dry woods and spices give it depth and diffuses the sweetness - so instead of being repulsive it makes you want to smell it again and again.

I won’t lie to you and tell you it’s not a trashy fragrance. Addict smells utterly trashy. But it’s a good trashy. Addict is definitely that rebellious sister, friend or aunt that seems to live a rather (ahem) interesting life that you’d love to experience for maybe a month. I have an aunt named Paula. Paula was brilliant. She was a straight “A” student, got into an Ivy League college, quit college, became an exotic dancer, moved to California, did lots of drugs, wrote a book, married 4 times, re-married husband #1 recently, had a string of interesting and oddball jobs, owned a bookstore once, was a therapist for a few years (yup, a sex therapist), traveled the world, created her own line of vitamins, and is now a yoga instructor. Addict makes me think of my aunt Paula. It’s trashy yet it’s interesting, intelligent, thoughtful and creative.

To describe Addict more specifically, it starts as a citrus and very sweet vanilla scent. It’s not among the listed notes but Chandler Burr mentions that Addict contains coumarin. Coumarin is a sweet synthetic smelling vanillic-almond-salt water taffy aroma. Addict smells mostly of citrusy coumarin for the first 30 minutes or so. This isn’t my favorite part. Addict becomes a great fragrance once it dries down and the sweetness fades a little and the spicy, ambery woody notes appear. Upon dry down Addict shows it’s most interesting facets – it swirls about in a circle of sweet coumarin, florals and cinnamon, amber & spice.

Addict is not for the faint of heart. But if you like the occasional loud fragrance with sillage and longevity to spare check it out.

Longevity: Forever
Sillage: Huge – be careful

Notes: mandarin leaf, silk tree flower, Queen of the Night flower, rose, jasmine, orange blossom, absolute of bourbon vanilla, sandalwood from Mysore and tonka bean.

UPDATED a few moments after posting: Actually I just had an epiphany. Addict reminds me a lot of a supercharged Trouble by Boucheron on steroids.

CARON Farnesiana: A Review

Mimosa is among my top five favorite notes. Mimosa is in my beloved Amarige by Givenchy (and FYI the mimosa is much more apparent and breathtaking in the 2007 Harvest Edition of Amarige). One of my favorite L’Artisan perfumes is Mimosa Pour Moi. Unbelievably Mimosa Pour Moi lasts for a few hours on my skin (yay, for L’Artisan!) and it’s a wonderfully rendered greenish mimosa soliflore. Jean-Paul Guerlain's Champs-Elysees is also meant to be based on a mimosa accord. Caron’s Farnesiana is nothing like Amarige, Mimosa Pour Moi or Champs-Elysees but I mention them so you can make comparisons amongst mimosa-focused fragrances.

Farnesiana was recreated by Michel Morsetti from Ernest Daltroff’s notes after his death in 1941 and released in 1947. The name is taken from the Latin name for cassie, Acacia Farnesiana, as well as the garden in the Roman palace of Farnese which is the inspiration for Farnesiana.

Farnesiana’s initial burst is mimosa, cassie and heliotrope. Heliotrope usually smells like play-doh to me and it also does in Farnesiana but it’s a lighter, fluffier and gorgeously gourmand heliotrope which causes me to envision marzipan and almond milk. I’m in awe of how groundbreaking Farnesiana must have been in 1947. To me, it’s a floral gourmand, wayyyy ahead of it’s time, and simply heavenly. If you sniff really hard, with the intent of detecting the other notes, you can smell a powdery violet and perhaps other florals. Overall Farnesiana is a sweet (but not overly sweet in the least), floral, powdery gourmand masterpiece. When I use the term gourmand please don’t think of sickly sweet dessert fragrances from Comptoir Sud. In my mind, the gourmand category has sadly been “dumbed down” to the point of only being associated with sweet cupcakes, chocolate, frosting, and bakery confections. The gourmand category has unfortunately received a bad rap lately but if there were more gourmands created like Farnesiana, well, I think this reputation could easily reverse.

Farnesiana is drop-dead gorgeous. It’s so soothing and comforting I wish I could spray my bed linens with it. Almond is not listed in Farnesiana’s notes but it seems like everyone (myself included) find it to be an almondy-floral-mimosa-powdery nirvana.

Lasting power: Average ~ 3-4 hours
Sillage: soft
This review is based on the eau de parfum, not the extrait.

Feeling protective

Brian sent me a huge number of decants from his collection that arrived today. I have never smelled any of these fragrances. I opened the package, unwrapped all the vials, then I proceeded to take a nap without smelling a thing. I was utterly overwhelmed.

Once I started sniffing, I began sending him emails with my reactions to each. One interesting point Brian mentioned is that he feels protective towards certain colognes/perfumes and notes. That got me thinking. I, too, feel protective towards a number of fragrances. As I ran down the list I realized that most of them are powerhouse 80’s fragrances from high school. There are only two from the 90’s, zero from the 2000’s and zero from the niche category.

Here’s the list of fragrances that I feel protective towards, and, I suppose you might understand why:

1. Dior Poison
2. Givenchy Amarige
3. Lou Lou Cacharel
4. Thierry Mugler Angel
5. Ungaro Diva

Perhaps I’m more embarrassed than protective. All five of these perfumes are seriously powerful and shriekingly loud. There are only two that I wear occasionally now, Amarige and Lou Lou, and when I wear these I’m careful to apply lightly. But back in the mid-late 80’s when I was in high school, I cared not for others. I applied Poison and Lou Lou as if they were fleeting body sprays. I sprayed Diva in my locker, in my car, all over my bedroom with wild abandon. My friend Megan wore Estee Lauder’s White Linen in much the same fashion. Nicole bathed in Lou Lou. Becky was scented with Lauren by Ralph Lauren, Melissa was also a Poison girl like me and Lesley liked to wear Laura Ashley No. 1 (which was by far the tamest scent in our group). I shudder to think of what the car smelled like when we drove off together on a Saturday night headed for a destination entirely different from what our parents were told.

Fast forward to the early-mid nineties when I wore Amarige exclusively during college. I’ve never received as many compliments on any other fragrance by a mile. Amarige is sexaaaay and that’s the way it made me feel.

I wore Angel for about 6 months when it first hit the shelves in 1997. I felt like I was the first to wear it. I loved it. It was during this time that I also loved my job. I was traveling the world (Europe, Asia, South America, you name it) and I was professionally quite happy. Once an Angel-laden-smog developed around all major cities due to the number of people wearing it I had to stop. It was just too trendy. Now it seems like everyone hates it. I don’t hate Angel at all, I rather like it, but I think fifty years of olfactory distance need to pass before anyone can truly appreciate it now.

So it seems that these fragrances make me nostalgic. I’m protective of them because they hold the memories of good times in my life. I don’t think I’ll ever objectively smell the horrific things that others smell in these fragrances because I wore them, I loved them, and they’re tightly intertwined with happy memories.

PS: Happy Birthday, Madonna! Madge is 50. I can’t believe it.

The Best Laid Plans

I planned to create a blog that would be all about perfume, one of my biggest obsessions. I wanted to include loads of perfume reviews but then I was stumped, about just what else I should do with this blog. Then along came Brian. I met Brian at PerfumeCritic.com. We hit if off instantly. We both love perfume and share many similarities and just as many differences in our likes, dislikes and thoughts about scent. One idea we both agree on: Perfume Is Art. Perfume is evocative. Perfume is a damn good time. Perfume is a medium through which we can write stories about our lives, experiences, dreams, rants, raves and day-to-day musings that will hopefully be interesting to others like us.

One thing is for sure, I sortof hate Brian right now. After agreeing to work on this project together, I've found that he is a shockingly beautiful writer. My writing will pale in comparison. (be quiet Brian, it's true, so get over it, Mr. Humble). I'm not sure what I'll do about this. Rise to the occassion? Be the one to write the more mundane reviews? We shall see what happens.

A note about my perfume reviews. I'm finding that I don't have the patience to go into the extreme depth of other perfume reviewers, discussing how each and every note unfolds over the course of a few hours. When I try a perfume, I usually either love it, hate it or just think it's 'meh' (not worth discussing). I can mostly detect individual notes, but prefer not to do so, I'd rather discuss the 'work' as a whole. So, I hope that I don't disappoint my imaginary readers, but I think my perfume reviews will be somewhat brief and to the point and geared towards giving you an overall impression of the "juice."

This may be too obvious to even mention but I'd also like to point out that my reviews are entirely subjective. This is my personal taste, it's what I like and dislike, so please don't ever be insulted if I happen to dislike something you adore. I mention this because it took me about 3 weeks to get over the agony of reading Turin & Sanchez' book, Perfume: The Guide. Turin haaaaates 3 (ok it's really 10) of my favorite perfumes.

I'm over it now, but for 3 weeks this tortured me. I think perfume is extremely personal. Even though thousands perhaps millions of people have all worn the same perfume, each time I apply one of my favorites, it feels as though the scent is personally mine. So to say one of my favorite perfumes is atrocious, well, that just hurts! I know I didn't create it but I buy it and wear it and that says something about me. Anyway, I finally realized that perfume, like just about everything else, is subjective, and what might not be my cup of tea, might be someone else's luscious chai latte.

In case you're wondering, I'll let you in on the one that hurt the most. The perfume that I adore that Mr. Turin hates. It's Amarige by Givenchy. Yes, Amarige is potent. But, that is, of course, why I love it. I have a preference for perfumes that are strong and lasting. I'd rather be careful about spritzing lightly than wear a perfume that is fleeting and lasts for 14 minutes. Amarige is absolutely gorgeous in my book. It's a floral oriental that turns into molten lava on my skin. It follows me around like a cloud. It literally feels warm - like a warm cloud enveloping me all day. Some say Amarige is a tuberose heavy scent, and I'm not sure tuberose is among the listed notes. It's meant to showcase Indian Mimosa. Amarige bursts with personality. It's alive, sexy, sensual, fiesty and feminine. I actually don't even smell individual notes but instead a well blended floral oriental bomb of a perfume that can only be described as Amarige.

To Luca Turin I say this: Someday I hope we get trapped in an elevator together when I am wearing 4 bold spritzes of Amarige. ;-)

To my readers: I hope you enjoy what Brian and I do with this blog. It will be great fun for us and we hope a fascinating journey for you.