iris wallpaper print late 19th century
Iris is one of the most expensive notes in the world of perfumery, or used to be, before the development of anisaldehyde, and Alpha Irones or the heavy synthetic iris Irival that makes an appearance in Iris Silver Mist. As you can see these days iris is unlikely to be natural, the cost alone more or less precludes that, but there are plenty of irises on the market some self advertising, some not.
Among the synthetics my personal favorite has to be the discontinued ShalimarParfum Initial. This perfume had nothing to do with Shalimar, instead the scent had a good deal in common with Dior Homme and DH’s lovely synthetic iris note was reproduced but lightened just a little bit. They were pretty close to one another as compositions. I went out and spritzed Dior Homme from my local Sephora and then Shalimar PI and found out how close the kinship was. They were siblings really, not even cousins. The Shalimar PI * did not prosper. I suppose the fact that the new perfume had nothing to do with actual Shalimar hurt the sales in the end since those who loved Shalimar could not love this new iris concoction. Continue reading
In The Great Gatsby, Daisy Buchanan is always looking for the longest day of the year, and then missing it, but in my case, it’s the shortest day of the year I look for and generally miss. All cases of seasonal blues aside, this is the time of year loved by firelight and candlelight aficionados, that includes me, and my close associate the cat, who never saw a warm surface she wouldn’t nestle onto.
To go with all this man made illumination I enjoy cozy perfumes with something like a gourmand note. Please notice this isn’t a gourmand. That’s a different matter, and while I like gourmands, I don’t own any. Continue reading
It’s been an age since I had my first bottle of perfume, and in the long interim that has followed, with lord knows how many bottles passing through, only one of them has ever been a Chanel.
Isn’t that peculiar, isn’t that abnormal, for a perfume enthusiast? I’ve worn just about everything else, but for some obscure reason, hardly ever a Chanel. The closest I came was a bottle of Coco, and a bottle of No 19 bath mousant given me for Christmas once. Used up both, did not replace either, that must say something about Chanel, personal aesthetics and moi, probably in that order, namely that they have a style, it is pronounced, and I don’t get it.
This may be a familial glitch, because my sister doesn’t get it either. Neither one of us have worn Chanel for long, and both of us are slightly leery of the customary Chanel aldehyde blends. The result seems to be that my sister simply dislikes Chanel, and to me, the perfumes are impressive, but my admiration is expressed from a safe distance. Continue reading
There’s this unfortunate thing about patchouli: she has baggage. In fact patchouli has a past and the said past is not the sort you come by in front offices or middle class living rooms. Patchouli used to live on a commune at some unspecified period in her existence (she’s fuzzy on dates) and she now operates strictly within the territories bounded by the Dew Drop Inn and the tat parlor.
Nowadays some perfumers would like to clean up patchouli and see if she can adapt to the high life. They have a far harder job on their hands than Henry Higgins did with Eliza Doolittle, because, as we’ve already mentioned, Patchouli is not a good girl. I don’t think realistically that she can do any better than an appearance at the Burning Man Festival and you can just forget about Embassy balls. Continue reading