Neroli is the essential oil of the orange blossom drawn using steam distillation from the bitter orange tree. Orange blossom also comes from the bitter orange tree, from the same blossom, but via enfleurage, which is the application of fat solids to pull out fragrance compounds from an item. Petitgrain is from the same tree but is made from steam distillation of the twigs and leaves. (Thanks Jessica Murphy from NST and Perfume Professor for that info. Also shout-out to Brooklyn Brainery because even when I look through the list of classes in their email newsletter like “I am not free for ANY of this” I’m still like “what is shibori even though” and “maybe I should start wool-working and also make a puff representation of my dog.”)
You’re so lame mom, please don’t.
I’m not the biggest fan of neroli. Most of the purer forms of it remind me too much of Froot Loops and I just don’t have any fun memories that would make the smell of neroli as significant to me as it is unique. During sniff-tests I’m usually standing next to neroli lovers, lovers of the Italian coastline, lovers of the Spanish coastline who are smiling and talking about their grandparents and their past trips and trips they want to take and saying absolutely nothing, smiling with them, appreciating the fragrance as objectively as I can, and swallowing down cereal jokes until that part of the conversation is over.
After a few months of marinating in Self-Pity and Work and Responsibility, I’m really happy to finally smell something that ruminates in my mind so much that I really wanted to write about it.
Photo from Sephora
I had this one hyped up to the heavens for me on Sniffapalooza Fall Ball Sunday in 2017. (Yeah I actually started this review last year. Whoops.) I usually hate things that are hyped up so pre-sniff. My mind was already countering every single bit of praise being heaped upon this fragrance.
Someone said it was wonderful for coffee lovers? I decided it was probably sickly sweet like a lot of coffee fragrances can be, because for some reason a lot of people really like that.
Someone said the tuberose was super balanced and didn’t take over? I decided that meant that the florals took a back seat after the initial sniff.
Someone said that I’d really like it? Uh, okay you don’t know me like that.
But as it happens they did know me like that. Read More
I have a feeling that many a person is going to disagree with me on this very vehemently.
Ah, well. Can’t be worse than my Valentino Uomo review! I’m honestly feeling particularly grumpy because I’m in pain at the moment for full disclosure, but I don’t really think being in a better mood would really effect my impression on the fragrance.
Sometimes though I do wish I had dedicated a little more time to the fragrance before writing; I don’t absolutely dislike Uomo, for instance, on myself anymore, and now appreciate the sweetness and syntheticness (and I promise, that wasn’t a sarcastic statement.) This time, I’ve put on Le Male twice now over the past few weeks and spritzed my boyfriend with it, so I think I’m as warmed up to it as I could be. Read More
I just have to say that the samples I got from Tocca are just so, so clean. I know I mentioned it earlier, but I just wanted to drive that point in.
Tocca is great for people who aren’t really into perfume per say, but enjoy their hand soaps and shampoos (as opposed to Philosophy users who aren’t really into perfume but enjoy their hand creams and desserts.)
Tocca is a brand that tries to embody an old world aesthetic and feminine sensibility. With its simple round bottle and traditional “perfume-y” notes, I can see its point, though it lacks some of the dirtiness I associate with a lot of old world perfume.
At their price point, this would be a great gift for someone starting out in fragrance who is perhaps a little too old for Bath & Bodyworks, cringes at the department store stuff, and values light and dainty things. The packaging, and the whole sweet and ethereal floral and fruity deal, is obviously staunchly on the girly-feminine side of things, but if that’s what you prefer, go for it!
These will be in installments of 3 so that my posts don’t stretch on.
Hey Calvin Klein, the fragrance industry already has a term for “gender-free” fragrance: unisex. I think that you know that, seeing as CK One is unisex.
Unless you just mean your marketing campaign. To which, sure, jump on that wagon before it leaves. The popularity of Orange is the New Black, the media-positive view of Caitlyn Jenner’s transition, and H&M and all of the little companies that have made it safe for the big and the old to do this makes this a decent time to get on. And it really hits that “no labels” thing that millennials like.
Here comes installment two! In my previous post about Imaginary Authors, I decided that for these fragrances I would do something different and write some short stories based on what comes up when I smell them. These stories are based on a vigilante concept that Mr. Chokkattu and I discuss whenever someone who’s a waste of space shows up on the news, and the style hopefully smacks of Brandon Sanderson as well as a tiny hint of Haruki Murakami perhaps. Hope you enjoy!
Cape Heartache: pine, oak, embers, strawberries, vanilla Read More
Derring-Do doesn’t smell like soap! I’m so happy. With the cedar and the aquatic notes I get from this, it seems like more of a masculine scent, if only because these are notes marketed within the male fragrance sphere. It’s warm and a little sweet from the floral and pepper notes, and while it’s a little complex right up to the nose, it’s fairly harmless from afar. Like an every man’s kind of scent, and not in a bad way. This would be quite welcome in an office full of Acqua di Gio and Ralph Lauren, but it probably wouldn’t really stand out. It’s warm and clean, and a scent that’s comfortable and inviting. Perhaps this would be best on a young man wearing a navy blue sweater vest.