* Coquelicot bonbons by Barnier! These fabulous sweets are flavoured with raspberry and . . . tonka bean. The tonka bean adds a vanillic depth, body, and syrup-creaminess, making it not just another sweet for children . . . the flat scarlet tablets, imprinted with poppies, are darling too.
* free (!) cannoli filled with ricotta, chocolate, and fresh cream, in a still-warm pizzelle, a charming end to a delicious salumi lunch.
* Christmas present to myself: a set of vintage D'Orsay eaux de toilette, Intoxication, Divine, and Le Dandy; L'Heure Bleue vintage eau de cologne, in the classic round bottle design; and a mystery! Rosée de Provence by Christianny, a company located in Grasse. Online it is listed as "Rose de Provence" but my label definitely says Rosée. The perfume inside is rich, dark orange, and since Christianny was apparently an essential oil producer, I'm looking forward to all the beauty!
Merry Christmas to everyone!!! Looking forward to carols and midnight mass (and the incense of midnight mass!) tonight!
Friday, December 24, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
running out of closet space
I need a walk-in humidor/perfume cellar. Things are getting out of hand.
Especially when I now have a beautiful Le Galion box set!!! 8 out of ten perfumes (missing Lily of the Valley/Muguet and probably Tubereuse): La Violette, Brumes, Bourrasque, Galion d'Or, Sortilege, La Rose, Snob, and Gardenia. All extrait, all full, all mine! I also spied another set, that I waffled on because all I wanted out of it was Miss Balmain.
Purchased: some Amouage thing for $11, that I can't identify for the life of me.
Especially when I now have a beautiful Le Galion box set!!! 8 out of ten perfumes (missing Lily of the Valley/Muguet and probably Tubereuse): La Violette, Brumes, Bourrasque, Galion d'Or, Sortilege, La Rose, Snob, and Gardenia. All extrait, all full, all mine! I also spied another set, that I waffled on because all I wanted out of it was Miss Balmain.
Purchased: some Amouage thing for $11, that I can't identify for the life of me.
Monday, December 13, 2010
these aren't my words.
The smell of big hotels and deckchairs,when people are having aperitifs:a mixed scent of amber,cigarette smoke,wax polish;and those meats cooking in wine.
from Alix's Journal by Alix Cleo Roubaud.
from Alix's Journal by Alix Cleo Roubaud.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
little sniffs, upgrading, low lighting, a lament
Scores of today:
Mystere eau de parfum - Rochas
Madame Rochas
Femme - Rochas, the "new" version with the black cap. Unfortunately at another store when I bought -
Amour Amour - Jean Patou (sweet spiralled bottle with gold cap)
- I stumbled into the old version of Femme (lacy cylinder with gold cap), shrugged my shoulders and went, "Too bad! I already purchased you today!" But now I want to relive those few minutes and put
everything in its proper place.
From a previous jaunt: Eau de cologne fraiche - Christian Dior, so beautiful in its houndstooth bottle.
How many of you believe in upgrading your perfume collection? Is one bottle of simple eau de cologne enough? Or must you rush out and scream, "Vintage! Eau de parfum! Parfum! Original, more more!" I myself believe I should exercise moderation because I make a fool's wage, but am I too cautious? Should I splurge, have doubles, triples? No. I don't want that answer. One is enough. (Except on the subject of Shu Uemura, an obsession felt solely by me. Uemura addicts: out of the closet! I don't want to hear about eyelashes! Let's talk about his other areas of expertise!)
* * *
I have started work at a . . . scent-free office. Yes, it is horrific to me. I work cheek by jowl with other typists, two of whom claim to have asthma, one equipped with a fan (and turns it on in November) and who scowls at her neighbour's hand lotion. It is saddening - at my previous workplaces I loved sailing in on a cloud of Le Dix or Safran Troublant, smelling my wrists whenever I got bored or discouraged, perfume being my perk-up, my endless friend, my comfort during drudge or annoying customers or fatigue from shopkeep standing. Now I apply faintly, with a meek hand, perfume that I know won't last long or can be mistaken for shower-freshness - Lann-Ael or Heeley's Menthe Fraiche respectively. That above-phrase isn't a slight to them - I'm so happy that they exist and at least give me an hour of illicit joy. It breaks my heart that I have to be away from my darlings for five days out of the week. I love my scents, I only feel half-there without them. I miss scanning my collection in the morning and choosing who will be my friend for the day, who will complete the mood I want to be in, who can change me, lift me, elate me. Yesterday I gorged myself on Fendi's Theorema and today on Arpege - oh, the cursed work week! I miss you, my perfumes, I can't believe bureaucracy is denying me your pleasures!
Mystere eau de parfum - Rochas
Madame Rochas
Femme - Rochas, the "new" version with the black cap. Unfortunately at another store when I bought -
Amour Amour - Jean Patou (sweet spiralled bottle with gold cap)
- I stumbled into the old version of Femme (lacy cylinder with gold cap), shrugged my shoulders and went, "Too bad! I already purchased you today!" But now I want to relive those few minutes and put
everything in its proper place.
From a previous jaunt: Eau de cologne fraiche - Christian Dior, so beautiful in its houndstooth bottle.
How many of you believe in upgrading your perfume collection? Is one bottle of simple eau de cologne enough? Or must you rush out and scream, "Vintage! Eau de parfum! Parfum! Original, more more!" I myself believe I should exercise moderation because I make a fool's wage, but am I too cautious? Should I splurge, have doubles, triples? No. I don't want that answer. One is enough. (Except on the subject of Shu Uemura, an obsession felt solely by me. Uemura addicts: out of the closet! I don't want to hear about eyelashes! Let's talk about his other areas of expertise!)
* * *
I have started work at a . . . scent-free office. Yes, it is horrific to me. I work cheek by jowl with other typists, two of whom claim to have asthma, one equipped with a fan (and turns it on in November) and who scowls at her neighbour's hand lotion. It is saddening - at my previous workplaces I loved sailing in on a cloud of Le Dix or Safran Troublant, smelling my wrists whenever I got bored or discouraged, perfume being my perk-up, my endless friend, my comfort during drudge or annoying customers or fatigue from shopkeep standing. Now I apply faintly, with a meek hand, perfume that I know won't last long or can be mistaken for shower-freshness - Lann-Ael or Heeley's Menthe Fraiche respectively. That above-phrase isn't a slight to them - I'm so happy that they exist and at least give me an hour of illicit joy. It breaks my heart that I have to be away from my darlings for five days out of the week. I love my scents, I only feel half-there without them. I miss scanning my collection in the morning and choosing who will be my friend for the day, who will complete the mood I want to be in, who can change me, lift me, elate me. Yesterday I gorged myself on Fendi's Theorema and today on Arpege - oh, the cursed work week! I miss you, my perfumes, I can't believe bureaucracy is denying me your pleasures!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
L'Artisan Parfumeur - Coeur de Vetiver Sacre
The top notes are a bit dicey - at once warm, mulled spicy, and sour, like oversteeped tea, President's Choice Memories of Asja, and unripe persimmon pucker. Smells like something chewed over. The slender stick-like figure of vetiver emerges cautiously - but it is enmeshed in fruit skin and tea steam. Transparent, wavering. Christmas tea, monk's blend. The drydown is pretty, vanilla tea.
It smells exactly like the notes say. There are no surprises. If you read closely and calibrate your assumptions accordingly, you will be pleased.
It smells exactly like the notes say. There are no surprises. If you read closely and calibrate your assumptions accordingly, you will be pleased.
current obsessions
* bread spread thickly with creamy-sweet Isigny butter, so much that I can't see the bread! I am eating it nonstop, breakfast, dinner . . . in the morning, when asked what I wanted for supper, I answered "I have all I need here," gesturing to my plate stacked with bread and butter. I probably put two or three tablespoons on each slice.
* carob seed honey, the most delectable one I have ever tried. I'm a honey freak, with almond-, lavender-, and orange-blossom coming in near the top, but now carob seed is the reigning queen. It has the darkest flavour, nearly fermented and alcoholic, like port or rum, with hints of coffee, dark treacle, and chocolate. It tastes celebratory! When paired with the aforementioned Isigny butter on bread, my mouth approaches a sort of delirium I don't know how to deal with. I offered some to my husband and he declined, saying he would try later on. Adding, canvassing my beastly devouring ways, halfway through a log of butter purchased last night, " . . . if there's any left."
* Leone Miste Digestive pastilles. I probably should not be eating these like normal candy, seeing as the words "lozenges," "herbal," and "digestive" appear on the label. These are amazing, so bitter they send you into a fugue state for a few moments, and taste like every single antiquated Italian liqueur in Gabriele d'Annunzio's cupboard. The flavours read like a poem: Fernet, peppermint Fernet, gentian, peppermint gentian, cloves, myrrh mint, "ugly but good," camomile, citron mint, citron sage, rhubarb, arquebuse (???), and alpine herbs.
* This song, in memory of Ari Up:
* carob seed honey, the most delectable one I have ever tried. I'm a honey freak, with almond-, lavender-, and orange-blossom coming in near the top, but now carob seed is the reigning queen. It has the darkest flavour, nearly fermented and alcoholic, like port or rum, with hints of coffee, dark treacle, and chocolate. It tastes celebratory! When paired with the aforementioned Isigny butter on bread, my mouth approaches a sort of delirium I don't know how to deal with. I offered some to my husband and he declined, saying he would try later on. Adding, canvassing my beastly devouring ways, halfway through a log of butter purchased last night, " . . . if there's any left."
* Leone Miste Digestive pastilles. I probably should not be eating these like normal candy, seeing as the words "lozenges," "herbal," and "digestive" appear on the label. These are amazing, so bitter they send you into a fugue state for a few moments, and taste like every single antiquated Italian liqueur in Gabriele d'Annunzio's cupboard. The flavours read like a poem: Fernet, peppermint Fernet, gentian, peppermint gentian, cloves, myrrh mint, "ugly but good," camomile, citron mint, citron sage, rhubarb, arquebuse (???), and alpine herbs.
* This song, in memory of Ari Up:
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Hilde Soliani - Freschiiissimo
Lime-ginger brown sugar cookie.
My husband (the gourmand addict) liked it.
My husband (the gourmand addict) liked it.
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