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.
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.
A couple of years ago I wrote 6 Scents 6 Selves after taking the 16 Personalities quiz, which is an illustrated, and more fun version of the Myers-Brigg test. Not only did I, for some reason, only focus on “masculine” and unisex fragrances, I read back my choices and some of them have me scratching my head.
So I’m going to revitalize this idea as a series. You know how YouTube lets you “premiere” videos now (so confusing to the Chromecast user honestly.)? Well this is the premiere. An introduction of sorts.
This stunning peony-patchouli vies for the same complexity of character—the seduction lasts long before the first notes of mandarin and rhubarb, developing into a heady olfactive brew underlined by blond woods and liquid musks.
Both the Myth and Raven note descriptions said that I’m supposed to smell patchouli, and while I got a bit of patchouli in Myth in the base as promised, it is the belle of the ball in Raven. It starts off sweet and creamy, with a sharpness like a tart apple, and then a sort of dogwood kind of woody. All of which play their part in the dry down as well in various strengths.
Then the patchouli has pulled its boots on and really gets everything going.
I think it’s that citrus-y and herbaceous bergamot on top of the cassis that makes this one almost scrumptious, or at least very tangible on the tongue.
Myth is “Bergamot, cassis and jasmine petals makes a first impression before lingering with patchouli, liquid musks and white cedarwood.”
It doesn’t matter that pineapple and mango and melon aren’t listed as notes. Whatever the cassis was supposed to provide turns into a way more tropical fruity note. Like a mango or melon Hi-Chew. Myth smells like a twist on a mimosa with the brunchiest, Instagram-friendly accouterments: sunshine, lily petals strewn around the base of the glass and a few thrown in the glass itself for good measure, served on a coaster because the wood for table that was chosen doesn’t actually hold up to the function it was purchased to serve. Read More