Nemat International Musk Amber Perfume Oil

After such success with Kuumba Made Amber Paste, and having read some positive reviews of Nemat oils (an Indian brand carried at my local Whole Foods/Whole Body), I gave several Nemat scents a test drive. Unlike Kuumba Made, I don't think Nemat oils are all natural. (But so what, I thought to myself, neither are most perfumes.) If one were to really love a Nemat fragrance or two, they can all be bought in larger sizes at great wholesale prices from the Nemat site.

Majmua: Too sharp and harsh for me, but still had a soapy drydown. The floral element of this fragrance was much weaker than the wood/herb/resin part.

Gardenia: Nice in the bottle and not too sweet. However, this blossomed into a total disaster on my skin. This “gardenia” quickly morphed into the strongest, most nostril-singing soap smell I have experienced. A true scrubber.

Narcissus: Seemed nice at first, a mild white floral and just sweet enough. Given The Other Half’s preference for not too floral scents on me, I thought I might be able to layer this with something else (musk?) and make it work for him. But, it too dried down soapy, though thankfully not in the brain searing fashion of the gardenia.

Himilayan Musk: An interesting one. Sort of a woodsy, piney musk. I think it could be worn easily by a man as well.

Vanilla Musk: Lord, that is one sweet scent. Too sweet for me, even if TOH would like its vanilla-ness.

Musk Amber: This one’s a winner. A kinder, gentler amber scent. Almost a skin scent on me. Not the intense, dark amber of the Kuumba Made Amber Paste, but a sweet, resinous warmth mixed with light musk. Upon first applying the Musk Amber, the amber dominates, but as time goes on the musk shifts into the foreground. If one were to be overwhelmed by KM’s Amber Paste, this might be a good way to get one’s ambery toes wet.

The Other Half Says: Are you wearing one of mine? (No.) Seriously, you are. Right? (No.)

But ultimately he enjoys it because he can detect a bit of the vanilla that goes into an amber scent.

Coco Mademoiselle EdP

Immediately sweet and fruity, Coco Mademoiselle burns down very quickly to a sharper, cooler citrus with something deeper lurking below. At this stage it reminds me of a period in my life when I wore a particular deodorant meant to have a “sporty” kind of scent. I think it was made by Adidas. This is not, however, entirely a bad thing as I loved that deodorant and miss it very much. Over time Coco Mlle warms up just a bit and I can catch some of the flowers in its middle notes. I get a bit of spice, and eventually it dries down to an interestingly boozy vanilla musk scent. I rather dislike vanilla scents, but am just fine with Mlle’s drydown, which is fortunate, since my other half (like many men, it seems) likes vanilla. As for the patchouli in the base notes, it only lends an ever so slightly earthy depth and bears no resemblance to actual hippie patchouli. Coco Mlle has good lasting power and sillage, but is not as intense as the original, older Coco.

Speaking of which, I am not really sure what this has to do with the original Coco. Perhaps it is just that Coco is clearly richer, more sensual, powerful and so perhaps more the Madame sort. While Coco Mlle is more stereotypically like a young, modern woman—breezy, athletic and fond of both fruit and crispness in a scent. And I guess they do both smell like Chanel, although I don’t know quite what I mean when I say that. But I have a vague sense that I could place a new perfume as a Chanel creation just by giving it a good sniffing. I’ve read people talking about the scent “base” used consistently by a particular perfume house. Maybe that is what I mean? I am not sure.

The Other Half Says: Nice.

Orange, Bergamot, Grapefruit, Litchi, Rose, Italian Jasmine, Indonesian Patchouli, Haitian Vetiver, Bourbon Vanilla, White Musk.

Your Perfect Day

Wedding Bouquet – DSH: This is part of DSH’s Your Perfect Day: Wedding Fragrances series. It includes scents designed for bridesmaids, the mother of the bride, the groom and three just for the bride. As a woman currently planning her wedding, and a new fan of DSH, I want to beg Ms. Spencer Hurwitz to take “perfect” out of the series name. What pressure!

As for the fragrance, it starts with sweet, crisp honeysuckle (Bergamot? What bergamot?). A little more green, soapy, waxiness comes out (stephanotis). Then along comes gardenia to give the bouquet more presence, while fortunately the white rose stays in the background, perhaps lending a quiet roundness. As it begins to slide from middle note florals to the drydown, the musk and sandalwood become more noticeable. In an hour to an hour and a half, all that remains on me is a very pleasant, clean, lightly floral musk that stays very close to the skin. I think you’d need to be nuzzling me to smell it. It is a pretty, guileless, straight up floral and I like it.

The Other Half Says: Uh huh. It’s fine. (I am just bowled over by his enthusiasm! Is he really kind of neutral about it or did I just interrupt his thinking about, like, Mariocart? Not that there is anything wrong with Mariocart, except that I suck at it.)

Bergamot, French Lily, Gardenia, Stephanotis, White Rose Accord, Musk, Orris, Sandalwood

Coco EdP

Coco opens with a sharper, somewhat citrusy-spice, and mellows into a heavier, blended (but rosy) floral-spice and finally sinks into vanilla-amber-spice before disappearing. Coco stays spicy and resinous throughout its development. A warm, perfumey floriental for a late fall day. Best to spritz lightly, because the fragrance is strong and could become overwhelming in the sillage department with an overzealous application.

This is a scent for grownups. I would not give this to a little girl who wants to spray on pretty perfume like mommy, nor to a girlish woman who wants to be cute with something light and candy-sweet. Audacious women wear Coco. It is about classic, self-possessed sensuality. My favorite thing is that it connotes strength and charisma without mimicking a man’s cologne. I love that it is both fearless and fiercely feminine.

The Other Half Says: (upon returning home from work) Mmm... is it you that smells so good?

Angelica, Mimosa, Frangipani, Mandarin, Cascarilla, Orange Flower, Bulgarian Rose, Jasmine, Labdanum, Ambrette Seed, Opopanax, Benzoin, Tonka, Vanilla.

Parfums des Beaux Arts

I have tried a number of indie perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz’s fragrances. Her Web site (Parfums des Beaux Arts: fine art fragrances) is a tad hard to navigate, but has a huge range of options—which is fun. She’s also personally reachable through their customer service email address and she is really helpful. I so appreciate that kind of personal service. A rapid fire review of some of her fragrances (more to come eventually):

Jitterbug (for men): Very deep, spicy and animalic. It begins quite intensely, mellowing as the scent unfurls. I like it on my fiance, but I also dig it on me. Both slightly repulsive and incredibly appealing. Smells like hate-sex.

The Other Half Says: You smell pretty.

Bergamot, Blackberry, Blackberry Leaf, Lemon, Pimento Berry, Benzoin, Bulgarian Rose Absolute, Clove Bud, Egyptian Jasmine Absolute, Ambergris, Atlas Cedarwood, Ciste Absolute, Frankincense (Olibanum), Labdanum, Musk, Patchouli

Jitterbug (original/for women): I tried this after the men's version and it is less harsh and more wearable for me, but still amber-y, spicy, warm and dark. It has good lasting power, even on my skin. And it does have the delightfully vintage vibe the perfumer promises. So, this could be a really great buy. But is it updated enough that other people won't be like, "um that girl smells like grandma"? I don't know. It would certainly not be for those who like modern, squeaky clean scents. Some people on MUA say it is similar to Estee Lauder's classic Youth Dew, which I have never tried.

The Other Half Says: I like it.

Bergamot, Blackberry, Lemon, Pimento Berry, Benzoin, Bulgarian Rose Absolute, Clove Bud, Egyptian Jasmine Absolute, Amber, Frankincense (Olibanum), Labdanum, Musk, Patchouli

American Beauty: Rosy, rounded and nice layered with Jitterbug for Men. I have been wearing blends with rose absolute for a while, so I am personally burned out on rose scents. I think if you were someone other than me and wanted a lush, classic rose scent, then this would be a good choice.

Bergamot, Cassis Bud, Palma Rosa, Rosewood, Bulgarian Rose Absolute, Bulgarian Rose Otto, Centifolia Rose Absolute, Egyptian Rose Geranium, Moroccan Rose Absolute, Orris, Ciste Absolute, East Indian Patchouli, Mysore Sandalwood, Peru Balsam

Memory & Desire: A gorgeously disturbing interpretation in scent of Ezra Pound's In a Station of the Metro. It smells sad, like smoke and ink. It's a cinematic scent, a drama: Rivulets of mascara dripping down cheeks/ looking out of a rain streaked window onto a gray city street. A cliche visually, but really unusual in a fragrance. I love how evocative and story-like this is, but I am not sure about its wearability.

Apple Blossom, Peach, Sweet Pea, Violet, Bulgarian Rose Absolute, Kukicha Tea, Orris, Ambrette Seed, Australian Sandalwood, Benzoin, Civet, Hiba Cedarwood, Sumi Ink

Beach Rose : Watery, disappears quickly (on me). I wanted it to magically transport me to one of New England beaches where I have spent so much of my life. It is too pure and clean to really evoke the beaches I know. I am head over heels for real beach roses, so I went into this with an expectation of too much perfection. None the less if you like clean, fresh scents and usually find rose too heavy and old fashioned, this might be perfect for you. I think it is a pretty brilliant way to bring the classic scent of rose to contemporary audiences for whom “clean and marine” is the norm.

Lemon, Neroli, Ocean, Palma Rosa, Violet, Waterlily, Carnation Absolute, Centifolia Rose Absolute, Chinese Geranium, Demine Rose Otto, Moroccan Rose Absolute, Rugosa Rose, East Indian Patchouli, East Indian Sandalwood, Musk

Dirty Rose (for men): I expected to like this (for me), but how to put this... it smells like a bandaid, some sort of chemical disinfecting solution and roses. I think this fragrance and my skin chemistry just don't get along.

Bergamot, Egyptian Rose Geranium, Mastic, Pimento Berry, Pink Peppercorn, Rosewood, Buddahwood, Centifolia Rose Absolute, Gallica Rose Otto, Labdanum, Olibanum, Orris, Patchouli, Sandalwood, Virginia Cedar, Ambergris, Brazilian Vetiver, Cassis Bud, Guiacwood, Hiba Cedarwood, Leather, Myrrh Gum, Oude, Styrax, Tobacco Absolute, Treemoss

Tom Ford Smells

Tom Ford: American fashion designer, fan of modern architecture, gay, white, misogynist

Also: Name attached to fragrances I like.

Black Orchid - Tom Ford: Harsh, spicy and earthy at first, then the overripe plums come out and flirt with just a touch of weird floral. The plums are not the "fresh & fruity" sort of thing one might expect. It's like summertime when there are so many plums available that one inevitably goes a bit soft on your counter. So when you reach for it, the skin is velvety soft and the flesh gives just a little too much. Your plum feels uncomfortably like human flesh. It's hot and you've punctured the skin and juice leaks onto the counter and the fruit flies are going to have a field day.

On the dry down Black Orchid is a dirty, spicy gourmand. There is some vanilla in there, which I often dislike, but it is vanilla that has been very, very bad, so I like it. The overall effect is raunchy.

Notes include: black truffle, ylang ylang, bergamot, effervescent citrus, black currant, jasmine, the specially-grown-for-Tom black orchid, fruit, spicy florals, lotus wood, patchouli, incense, vetiver, vanilla, balsam and sandalwood.

Black Orchid Voile de Fleur [Flower Veil] - Tom Ford: This is a "flanker" to the original Black Orchid. It only comes in EdT and is meant to be lighter. I don't know why anyone would dislike this. Voile de Fleur (VdF becuase I'm lazy) is the pretty kind of sexy. She blushes, look downward, and touches the back of her neck. Crisp white florals, without the headiness you'd expect, but not cold either. The florals are layered over a warm, comfy base. Just interesting enough with dark fruits and truffle, without annoying or offending most other people.

But, why does this share a name with the original Black Orchid? They are quite different. Maybe the original Black Orchid is the alter ego of VdF. You think she's a VdF kind of girl in a pressed, floral skirt, but lurking within is the voluptuously debauched bad girl of the original Black Orchid.

Notes include: black truffle, ylang ylang, bergamot, blackcurrant, honeysuckle, gardenia, spicy lily, black orchid, black plum, black pepper, lotus wood, succulent fruit, warm milk, cinnamon, vanilla tears, patchouli, balsam and sandalwood

Amber, my love.

I thought, because of a brief and disappointing interest in fragrance oils from Black Phoenix Alchemy (BPAL), that "amber" in a fragrance made it smell like crap on me. Turns out it was just BPAL. Fun, creative perfume business with a big following, but mostly doesn't work for me.

Since setting out in the world (mall) to experience many fragrances for and on myself, I have discovered that I actually love the smell of amber. Which begged the question: What the hell is amber? That yellowy fossil-sap-rock thing in jewelry and paperweights?

It took a while but here is the answer, as I currently understand it, pulling from numerous sources. Many perfumes claim to have an amber note in them or to smell entirely of amber. This seems to imply that amber is a particular thing-- like roses. It's not. Amber is more like a general scent concept. It is a warm, sweet, woody, resinous scent that is created with natural and/or synthetic ingredients. Even if you buy something advertised as all natural amber oil, it is still a mixture of different plant substances blended to achieve the scent concept called "amber". And, of course, the exact smell of a particular company's version of amber is particularly apt to smell different than that put out by another company because it's a mixture, an interpretation of a concept anyway.

Okay, so I really like amber. I want to be able to put amber in hot chocolate and coffee and cookies. I want amber hard candy. I want to stick cotton balls soaked in amber fragrance into my nostrils so I can smell it constantly. To this end, I have tried two "pure" amber fragrances and purchased one.

Annick Goutal - Ambre Fetiche: I tried this EdP at Dillards. It was my first experience of something that was just amber. It was sweet, spicy and dark, but not harsh or skanky. It was also unbelievably strong. And I have scent-eating skin. So for about an hour super strong and then suddenly, preciptiously: gone. Still, I learned that Amber had potential. Notes include: frankincense, labdanum, styrax, benzoin, iris

Kuumba Made - Amber Paste: This is a natural, dark brown goo in a 1/8th ounce glass bottle. It cost $9 at Whole Foods. People on the Internet say it is too strong. I say it is heavenly and just right. It is a combination of sunny warmth on pine boughs and rich earth and curling up with a good book in a brown leather armchair and sweet incense on a home altar, with a pinch of long, black eyelashes knowingly cast downward for good measure. It is dark and rich and although it is sweet, the sweetness is nothing at all like those weird, fruity body sprays that were all the rage in high school. It is dark, spicy sweet. Also, I find that the goo doesn't fling the scent into the air as much as an alcohol-based spray does. So, even though amber itself is a pretty heavy fragrance, this rich goo isn't going to bowl folks over as I walk past.

Oh, and I learned that trail of scent when you walk past-- it has a name: sillage.

A haphazard know-nothing

I am not sure what a perfumista is, but I am entirely certain that I am not that. What happened was I went to Sephora to purchase Ralph Lauren Romance, a fragrance I remembered liking years ago and discovered that I no longer liked it. In fact, it smelled a wee bit like wee on me. I starting sniffing Sephora's wall of samples, got overwhelmed and went home-- hoping that Google could sort me out.

I needed a wedding fragrance. Inoffensive for people hugging me, light enough for summer and to my taste. That's all I wanted. Something different than rose absolute and sandalwood diluted in jojoba (the homebrew scent that I'd worn occasionally for years). Google didn't just answer my question, it introduced me to a world of scent. How odd that something as disembodied as the Internet would fire an obsession for something so sensual.

So, here I am, interested in the history and business of perfume and a terror for sales people who work in shops that sell fragrance. And that's that. I am going to chronicle my obsession for as long as it lasts.