Penhaligon's - Eau Sans Pareil

Eau nonpareil more like - hellaciously sweet opening, berries, SweetTarts, purple powder. Knowing that this is a "chypre," I grit my teeth and wait for this nonsense to subside.
Later - Purple Euphoria glitter. If this is a chypre, I am Voltaire. Sparkle, glitter.

Rochas: Battle Madame Rochas (new edt) vs. Madame Rochas (vintage edc)

MRNEDT - zzzz
MRVEDC - Why does this smell like Chinese takeaway?
MRNEDT - zzzzz
MRVEDC - I smell . . . cooked.
MRNEDT - zzzzzz

Okay, this was honestly too boring to write properly about. New version smells like the colour ashes-of-roses, old version was turned a little, both after 3 hours creamy staid floral, both nothing I'd want to put on again.
As was to be expected, it was no mudwrestling barbed wire brutefest. You can go home now, money refunded at the door.

fakeries +

Dear "Jean Patou" "Sublime" "parfum," I hate you. You are a factice without having any outward sign that you are a factice. You are supposed to have a sticker saying "dummy" on the bottom, but you are awful. You look so lotuslike and blooming with your saffon-coloured nametag and gold thread, BUT YOU ARE A FAKE. You smell like Elmer's glue and rubbing alcohol. YOU are nothing. Stupid twatty little bottle, I want my sixteen dollars back, and then I will kick you off a cliff. "Jean Patou" "Sublime" "parfum," I hate you. Notice the lack of quotation marks in the last part of that sentence? My hate is real.  
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Action of the last few days:

Caron - Infini parfum (vintage)
Ungaro - Diva
Nina Ricci - L'Air du Temps edt
Revillon - Detchema (vintage)
Lucien Lelong - Passionnement (vintage)
Christian Dior - Diorella edt
Robert Piguet - Bandit (vintage)
Jean-Louis Scherrer edt
some weird little bottle with a P. Robertet, Inc. label reading: "4/25/1969. Ref. 1284/1(?). PERFUME. 18% Rhapsody MG - 7094. For manufacturing purposes or professional use only." SCARY SCARY WARNING LABEL QUICK CALL THE IF . . . (collapses in anaphylactic fit due to external contact)

Lush (Gorilla Perfumes) - The Smell of Weather Turning

Time-lapse photography.
Peppermint frost rapidly melting off window vivid green tendrils vines climbing up succulents withering snapping back rust-grey-colour WVLNT last glimpse = curls of burnt leaf smoked glass iris out.

Guerlain - Shalimar (vintage parfum)

I bow humbly to the Queen.

damage done

Christian Dior - Eau Sauvage mini edt (vintage)
Houbigant - Flatterie mini (vintage), Quelques Fleurs mini edt (vintage - but I can't open the thing!)
Rochas - Madame Rochas edc (vintage), Tocade mini edt
Balenciaga - Michelle mini parfum (vintage)
Pascal Morabito - Or Noir mini
Annick Goutal - Petite Cherie edt

Boy-crazy Candy

Prada - Candy edp

(This entry should be read while listening to Meryn Cadell's "The Sweater.")

Before enduring another months-long parting in our long-distance relationship, I would steal one of my not-yet-husband's sweaters, of which I pulled a Napoleon and asked him to wear repeatedly.
It would have a sunny, bready smell, like spiced stollen with lemon zest. It is fitting that my sweet would smell like sweet. I would sleep in it once, then keep it tightly stowed away in my cabinet. I didn't want to lose a single bit of its marvellous warm scent. Photos letters phone and instant messaging capped by a weekly burying of my face into the patisserie-at-8-AM-redolent soft fabric - until I felt like crying, at which point I would put it away because I didn't want my tears to taint the traces of him him him.
Now I have my love to smell all the time! Fantastical scents, cedar and lavender. This week resting my head on his shoulder I smelled cream with a delicious salty edge, like the crackle of digging into a vanilla-laden creme brulee. It smelled familiar, and I rolled it around on my tongue until it flashed: it was the salted caramel heart of Prada's Candy!

I had only smelled Candy on paper before, and was intrigued. I dug out the adorable sample box (it really does have the most striking campaign in ages - Lea Seydoux is as sweet as a pastry swan) and gave it a go, hoping I would be struck with lyrebird boy beauty.

Husband: ∞
Candy: -3

Candy is hypersweet and sticky, and one of the few perfumes that made me think twice upon application: "Will people smell this on me in passing? Did I put too much on? Why do I smell like I belong in S Club 7? Will people think less of me since I am wearing the equivalent of a Betsey Johnson prom dress?" (Evidently they did, since we were served raw chicken and tepid polenta at brunch. I blame it on Candy.) The incredible salty-crunch aspect that I loved on paper is buried under a disco igloo's worth of neon pink sugarcubes (that made no sense, but fuck it, it's staying) (you can also put in disco confiserie), sugarbabies, lipgloss from Claire's, pages ripped from Teen Vogue.
But I win, because I have my very own darl-doll to supply me with the real Quimper deal.
Love you!

Balmain - Miss Balmain spray mist (vintage)

Five minutes in and my eyes are rolling back in my head like I'm in Un Chien Andalou.

More to come once I'm done rubbing my thighs frantically together, this is a proper mindmelt.