I was recently in SoHo where the sales attendants were very nice to me and Tobu. Tobu really liked the Prince St store, which he decided after getting in the way several times. One of the attendants was so kind to tell me about L’Eau Papier, in stores very shortly in March, and handed me a sample.
I thought about reviving my blog with another fragrance review. Something nice, light, fun, topical even. In fact, I attended a Zoom sniffing of the Ulrich Lang line with Sniffapalooza just last night and while it’s always fun, I was actually very impressed by the frags themselves, which is not always the case. In fact, I put Anvers back on this morning because it’s cloudy and rainy in New York, and Anvers feels like I’m putting on a really nice jacket, and I have my window open on Beautyhabit’s pay page because I’m very seriously considering purchasing APSU.
Unfortunately Twitter had another idea this morning, as this link came across my feed:
I decided it was time to make an Instagram page dedicated to the amount of coffee I drink. I’m pretty excited about it actually. It’s pretty basic, but the plan is to do daily captioned pictures in the style of All My Friends Are Dead (the book, not the song), mixed with a little Jomny Sun.
I’m going to try for funny, cute, and amusing, but I can’t promise consistency on that so I won’t.
Really quickly, and I acknowledge this is a weird way to jumpstart my blog again and I’m going to go ahead and promise absolutely nothing, I wanted to write about this brand I’ve never heard of and was wholly uninterested in until I did this year’s Sniffapalooza Fall Ball and the brand was at Bergdorf Goodman.
An intriguing, otherworldly blend of green tea, pink freesia, bitter orange and vanilla beans.
My first reaction was that there’s a dessert that smells just like Sci Fi. A cookie. A Girl Scout cookie? The lemon ones? My third favorite cookie to the OG Samoas and Thin Mints. Let me look them up real quick. Lemonades, ah.
A sparkling combination of Centifolia rose petals and Sicilian lemon over vanilla orchid and spring musks.
I think I understand the desire to make the title this clever nod to the star of the fragrance, but I wish they had just called this one “Prose” like they clearly were planning to, and I’m definitely going to just call it “Prose” when I talk about it aloud.
Although to be completely honest, my first idea as an alternative was “Prosé” as in rosé, so clearly the weird, mid-20s functioning alcoholic Bath and Body Works-bred nature of my brain isn’t really equipped to judge.
A fresh yet addictively wearable combination of orange flower, lavender, petitgrain, cashmere woods and white suede.
Rives smells like what everyone says an Italian garden is supposed to smell like, all yellow and white flowers and lemons cut by an undercurrent of sea water, because when we talk about Italy, we talk about the places on the sea where the mangroves produce citrus for the gods and the basin’s salt does some reverse magic and sweetens the earth instead of kills it like it should.