Wednesday, October 31, 2007

How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail? Curing Winter Skin

How doth the little crocodile /Lewis Carroll

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!

With colder weather (and indoor heating) comes the dreaded crocodile skin, and while we're definitely going to try and improve it, my suggestions are going to be a bit more practical than pouring the waters of the Nile on our scales.

It starts in the shower. The shower caddy and the shelves in my bathroom may resemble a small museum for fine bathing products, but when the weather gets rough nothing beats L'Occitane Almond Shower Oil. The concept of cleansing with oil isn't that new (it's mostly found in face products), though it may seem odd to the uninitiated. I promise you that it works. The amazing part is that unlike any other soap or gel under the sun that all cause my skin to tighten up and cry for immediate relief, this oil is the most gentle product I know (Including baby products. I've tried many).

Don't get me wrong: I still need to thoroughly moisturize to get my legs to a fabulous state, but at least the march from the shower to the bedroom doesn't end with a skin that resembles this Chanel bag:

The oil's subtle fragrance can be described as a cross between baby oil and almond oil, but it's very mild and fades before I even finish rinsing my hair, so it never clashes with any other scented product, and thankfully doesn't have that sharp almondy smell you often find elsewhere. It's so delicate that I don't hesitate to use the entire range under Louve (the latest Serge Lutens perfume, the softest almond note imaginable). The L'Occitanes have no impact or lasting scent at all.

How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail? Curing Winter Skin

How doth the little crocodile /Lewis Carroll

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!

With colder weather (and indoor heating) comes the dreaded crocodile skin, and while we're definitely going to try and improve it, my suggestions are going to be a bit more practical than pouring the waters of the Nile on our scales.

It starts in the shower. The shower caddy and the shelves in my bathroom may resemble a small museum for fine bathing products, but when the weather gets rough nothing beats L'Occitane Almond Shower Oil. The concept of cleansing with oil isn't that new (it's mostly found in face products), though it may seem odd to the uninitiated. I promise you that it works. The amazing part is that unlike any other soap or gel under the sun that all cause my skin to tighten up and cry for immediate relief, this oil is the most gentle product I know (Including baby products. I've tried many).

Don't get me wrong: I still need to thoroughly moisturize to get my legs to a fabulous state, but at least the march from the shower to the bedroom doesn't end with a skin that resembles this Chanel bag:

The oil's subtle fragrance can be described as a cross between baby oil and almond oil, but it's very mild and fades before I even finish rinsing my hair, so it never clashes with any other scented product, and thankfully doesn't have that sharp almondy smell you often find elsewhere. It's so delicate that I don't hesitate to use the entire range under Louve (the latest Serge Lutens perfume, the softest almond note imaginable). The L'Occitanes have no impact or lasting scent at all.

How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail? Curing Winter Skin

How doth the little crocodile /Lewis Carroll

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!

With colder weather (and indoor heating) comes the dreaded crocodile skin, and while we're definitely going to try and improve it, my suggestions are going to be a bit more practical than pouring the waters of the Nile on our scales.

It starts in the shower. The shower caddy and the shelves in my bathroom may resemble a small museum for fine bathing products, but when the weather gets rough nothing beats L'Occitane Almond Shower Oil. The concept of cleansing with oil isn't that new (it's mostly found in face products), though it may seem odd to the uninitiated. I promise you that it works. The amazing part is that unlike any other soap or gel under the sun that all cause my skin to tighten up and cry for immediate relief, this oil is the most gentle product I know (Including baby products. I've tried many).

Don't get me wrong: I still need to thoroughly moisturize to get my legs to a fabulous state, but at least the march from the shower to the bedroom doesn't end with a skin that resembles this Chanel bag:

The oil's subtle fragrance can be described as a cross between baby oil and almond oil, but it's very mild and fades before I even finish rinsing my hair, so it never clashes with any other scented product, and thankfully doesn't have that sharp almondy smell you often find elsewhere. It's so delicate that I don't hesitate to use the entire range under Louve (the latest Serge Lutens perfume, the softest almond note imaginable). The L'Occitanes have no impact or lasting scent at all.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Fendi Theorema- The Lost Perfume Series


This is the time of year when my cats begin to be obsessive about those patches of sun coming through the windows. For stricly indoors creatures, they have very good instincts to know that sun and warmth are becoming scarce and need to be cherished and fully enjoyed. Fendi Theorema is like those sunny patches, and considering that it's another discontinued fragrance, it's about to become as rare.

Theorema is warm and spicy, with a borderline gourmand feel. The official notes are:
Top- tangerine, orange, eglantine rose
Heart- jasmine petals, red pepper, cinnamon, osmanthus
Base- cream, sandalwood, musk, amber, ground spice

Carnation isn't listed, but I'm pretty sure I get some of its sparkly quality, that keeps the spiced, creamy orange from becoming too much and go the creamsicle way, like many other orange scents. It's still on the "yummy" side of things, but grown-up enough to enjoy without feeling foolish. Surprisngly, the sillage is not great and I need to spray quite a bit to be able to bask in a comforting bubble. Sometimes it feels like there's not enough amber in the base, which might be the reason Theorema layers so well with other scents. March from Perfume Posse likes to layer it with Chaos (Donna Karan's rare and very discontinued gem), but if you manage to score a bottle of that juice (it goes for an arm and a leg on eBay), you're more likely to wear it alone and ponder your luck. I'm playing with amber or incense combinations, but haven't found the perfect one just yet. I'll report back when I do.

I have no ides why it was discontinued, considering it has such a cult of followers. There's a rumour Theorema is still being produced for the Italian market, so maybe one of my Italian readers can confirm. In any case, I've stocked up on a lifetime supply of this sunshine in a bottle in EdP, and it can still be found from some e-tailers. I've tried to get my hands on the parfum version, but it was sold out virtually before my eyes. I would have loved to own a bottle of that.

As a final treat, here's a commercial for Theorema. I think it capture the loveliness quite nicely:


Fendi Theorema- The Lost Perfume Series


This is the time of year when my cats begin to be obsessive about those patches of sun coming through the windows. For stricly indoors creatures, they have very good instincts to know that sun and warmth are becoming scarce and need to be cherished and fully enjoyed. Fendi Theorema is like those sunny patches, and considering that it's another discontinued fragrance, it's about to become as rare.

Theorema is warm and spicy, with a borderline gourmand feel. The official notes are:
Top- tangerine, orange, eglantine rose
Heart- jasmine petals, red pepper, cinnamon, osmanthus
Base- cream, sandalwood, musk, amber, ground spice

Carnation isn't listed, but I'm pretty sure I get some of its sparkly quality, that keeps the spiced, creamy orange from becoming too much and go the creamsicle way, like many other orange scents. It's still on the "yummy" side of things, but grown-up enough to enjoy without feeling foolish. Surprisngly, the sillage is not great and I need to spray quite a bit to be able to bask in a comforting bubble. Sometimes it feels like there's not enough amber in the base, which might be the reason Theorema layers so well with other scents. March from Perfume Posse likes to layer it with Chaos (Donna Karan's rare and very discontinued gem), but if you manage to score a bottle of that juice (it goes for an arm and a leg on eBay), you're more likely to wear it alone and ponder your luck. I'm playing with amber or incense combinations, but haven't found the perfect one just yet. I'll report back when I do.

I have no ides why it was discontinued, considering it has such a cult of followers. There's a rumour Theorema is still being produced for the Italian market, so maybe one of my Italian readers can confirm. In any case, I've stocked up on a lifetime supply of this sunshine in a bottle in EdP, and it can still be found from some e-tailers. I've tried to get my hands on the parfum version, but it was sold out virtually before my eyes. I would have loved to own a bottle of that.

As a final treat, here's a commercial for Theorema. I think it capture the loveliness quite nicely:


Fendi Theorema- The Lost Perfume Series


This is the time of year when my cats begin to be obsessive about those patches of sun coming through the windows. For stricly indoors creatures, they have very good instincts to know that sun and warmth are becoming scarce and need to be cherished and fully enjoyed. Fendi Theorema is like those sunny patches, and considering that it's another discontinued fragrance, it's about to become as rare.

Theorema is warm and spicy, with a borderline gourmand feel. The official notes are:
Top- tangerine, orange, eglantine rose
Heart- jasmine petals, red pepper, cinnamon, osmanthus
Base- cream, sandalwood, musk, amber, ground spice

Carnation isn't listed, but I'm pretty sure I get some of its sparkly quality, that keeps the spiced, creamy orange from becoming too much and go the creamsicle way, like many other orange scents. It's still on the "yummy" side of things, but grown-up enough to enjoy without feeling foolish. Surprisngly, the sillage is not great and I need to spray quite a bit to be able to bask in a comforting bubble. Sometimes it feels like there's not enough amber in the base, which might be the reason Theorema layers so well with other scents. March from Perfume Posse likes to layer it with Chaos (Donna Karan's rare and very discontinued gem), but if you manage to score a bottle of that juice (it goes for an arm and a leg on eBay), you're more likely to wear it alone and ponder your luck. I'm playing with amber or incense combinations, but haven't found the perfect one just yet. I'll report back when I do.

I have no ides why it was discontinued, considering it has such a cult of followers. There's a rumour Theorema is still being produced for the Italian market, so maybe one of my Italian readers can confirm. In any case, I've stocked up on a lifetime supply of this sunshine in a bottle in EdP, and it can still be found from some e-tailers. I've tried to get my hands on the parfum version, but it was sold out virtually before my eyes. I would have loved to own a bottle of that.

As a final treat, here's a commercial for Theorema. I think it capture the loveliness quite nicely:


Monday, October 29, 2007

Pore Talk

I was doing some research about Natura Bissé skin care products before using some samples (a good practice for everyone, especially those of us with sensitive skin), when I happened upon the product description for their Oxygen Cream. Here's the screen shot from Neiman Marcus' website. I just enlarged it and underlined the eyebrow raising part:

Everything I know all the info I managed to dig up are saying the same thing: Blemishes occur when your pores get clogged up with gunk, trapping bacteria inside, which leads to inflammation. If a cream causes blemishes it's because it clogs pores. As simple as that.

I'm not buying it.

Has any of you tried this cream or another product that claims that blemishes are a sign it's working?

Pore Talk

I was doing some research about Natura Bissé skin care products before using some samples (a good practice for everyone, especially those of us with sensitive skin), when I happened upon the product description for their Oxygen Cream. Here's the screen shot from Neiman Marcus' website. I just enlarged it and underlined the eyebrow raising part:

Everything I know all the info I managed to dig up are saying the same thing: Blemishes occur when your pores get clogged up with gunk, trapping bacteria inside, which leads to inflammation. If a cream causes blemishes it's because it clogs pores. As simple as that.

I'm not buying it.

Has any of you tried this cream or another product that claims that blemishes are a sign it's working?

Pore Talk

I was doing some research about Natura Bissé skin care products before using some samples (a good practice for everyone, especially those of us with sensitive skin), when I happened upon the product description for their Oxygen Cream. Here's the screen shot from Neiman Marcus' website. I just enlarged it and underlined the eyebrow raising part:

Everything I know all the info I managed to dig up are saying the same thing: Blemishes occur when your pores get clogged up with gunk, trapping bacteria inside, which leads to inflammation. If a cream causes blemishes it's because it clogs pores. As simple as that.

I'm not buying it.

Has any of you tried this cream or another product that claims that blemishes are a sign it's working?

'Tis the Season to Look Silly


It's the time of the year we get to see celebrities in their Halloween costumes (which mostly means Paris Hilton slutting things up all over L.A.). The following picture isn't actually from a Halloween party, despite Linda Evengelista's goth Big Bird dress and Marc Jacobs' blue hair. That's how they appeared last night at a Louis Vuitton event.

Picture courtesy of DListed.

'Tis the Season to Look Silly


It's the time of the year we get to see celebrities in their Halloween costumes (which mostly means Paris Hilton slutting things up all over L.A.). The following picture isn't actually from a Halloween party, despite Linda Evengelista's goth Big Bird dress and Marc Jacobs' blue hair. That's how they appeared last night at a Louis Vuitton event.

Picture courtesy of DListed.

'Tis the Season to Look Silly


It's the time of the year we get to see celebrities in their Halloween costumes (which mostly means Paris Hilton slutting things up all over L.A.). The following picture isn't actually from a Halloween party, despite Linda Evengelista's goth Big Bird dress and Marc Jacobs' blue hair. That's how they appeared last night at a Louis Vuitton event.

Picture courtesy of DListed.

What Would Carrie Bradshaw Eat? Eat, Drink, and Be Gorgeous- A Book Review



Reading a book that wasn't truly written for you can feel like eavesdropping on someone else's life. It's awkward at times, but you can still learn a thing or two.

Case in point: Eat, Drink and Be Gorgeous, a nutritionist's guide to living well while living it up by Esther Blum, who is a dietitian at the N.V. Perricone Lifestyle Center in NYC. The book is geared towards a certain demographic: Young single women, who live, date and work in urban areas, drink a lot and are trying to get themselves together and feel better, but are not entirely sure how to do it. However, I, at (nearly) 37, equipped with a husband, a rice cooker, a good skin care routine, an elliptical trainer, and eating a vegetarian diet, am not the audience Ms. Blum had in mind.

I wasn't too enthusiastic at first about the girl-talk writing style or the gushing promises to make it all better for the reader. I remember being in my early twenties, confused and tired. There were times even Jane Austen couldn't make it all better for me, so I doubt any other book can do it. However, even at the very beginning there was something that caught my attention and made me listen more closely. The author stresses the need to take the shame out of eating as a first step to developing healthy habits. She wants us to enjoy what we eat, have the best chocolate we can afford, treat ourselves nicely, be in the moment and not feel guilty about it.

By giving ourselves permission to eat and not feeling constantly deprived and desperate, we avoid that old cycle of starving for two days only to get utterly depressed and eat a pack of Oreos and a bag of chips for both lunch and dinner the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I might not be there (and admittedly, never really have been), but I do know the guilt over indulging and I know far too many women who are struggling with this very issue, trying to follow the latest diet regimen until they give up and need to deal with the failure. The healthy, realistic approach of moderation as a key is essential to get the message across. As the book unfolds, the author tells it like it is: She explains exactly what's wrong with unhealthy food and wild lifestyle, but she manages not to be preachy and doomsday-like in her narrative, which I'm guessing would do wonders to convince her young readers to actually make the change. Esther Blum uses honey, almost literally, to trap the flies.

Like Tom Ford, Blum knows that sex sells. That's probably why the sex chapter, Gorgeous in Bed, is the longest one in the book. But it's not what it looks. Under the cover of "Let's talk about sex", she actually teaches about food. You'll hear what's good for healthy sex life (healthy food, surprise! and exercise!) and what isn't. You'll learn that processed items, hydrogenated oils and refined sugars are going to ruin your libido, keep you feel sluggish and bloated, and make your hoo-ha stink. That alone is a good enough reason to get friendly with brown rice and steamed spinach.

It's an interesting approach, if nothing else. I can vouch for one aspect: If start thinking about certain foods and beverages as poison, you significantly lower the frequency and intensity of uncontrollable cravings. That's how I quit drinking soda of any kind about eight years ago and why I have no interest in commercial candy bars (Belgian chocolate is a completely different thing, though). I guess if the target audience is most obsessed with dating, showing them how junk food is sabotaging its sex life is a very smart move.

One thing I've definitely learned from the book is about certain dietary supplements. I already down a handful a day, but this routine can and should be tweaked according to specific needs and I'm going to look deeper into it, with the recommendations in mind. I also remember that Ms. Blum's employer, Dr. Perricone is pushing a full range of expensive products of this very nature. Not a big issue, since she doesn't hawk the products, and I intend to continue buying mine from Whole Foods.

My only real peeve with the book is that it completely ignores the vegetarian route. Yes, protein is good for you, but it doesn't have to be animal-derived. Blum mentions every meat option (including buffalo, ostrich and venison), but she forgets the fact that some of us combine whole grains and legumes for a healthy whole protein that is easy to digest and gives a lot of other health benefits. Just as eating small amounts of of organic tofu (preferably fresh) is actually good for you (unlike over-processed soy and wheat protein from unknown sources).

what I'd really hope to see in the future, other than a vegetarian chapter, is also a version of this book geared towards men. Young women aren't the only ones who need to ditch the dollar menu and get acquainted with broccoli. I wonder how the sex chapter would look in that one.

What Would Carrie Bradshaw Eat? Eat, Drink, and Be Gorgeous- A Book Review



Reading a book that wasn't truly written for you can feel like eavesdropping on someone else's life. It's awkward at times, but you can still learn a thing or two.

Case in point: Eat, Drink and Be Gorgeous, a nutritionist's guide to living well while living it up by Esther Blum, who is a dietitian at the N.V. Perricone Lifestyle Center in NYC. The book is geared towards a certain demographic: Young single women, who live, date and work in urban areas, drink a lot and are trying to get themselves together and feel better, but are not entirely sure how to do it. However, I, at (nearly) 37, equipped with a husband, a rice cooker, a good skin care routine, an elliptical trainer, and eating a vegetarian diet, am not the audience Ms. Blum had in mind.

I wasn't too enthusiastic at first about the girl-talk writing style or the gushing promises to make it all better for the reader. I remember being in my early twenties, confused and tired. There were times even Jane Austen couldn't make it all better for me, so I doubt any other book can do it. However, even at the very beginning there was something that caught my attention and made me listen more closely. The author stresses the need to take the shame out of eating as a first step to developing healthy habits. She wants us to enjoy what we eat, have the best chocolate we can afford, treat ourselves nicely, be in the moment and not feel guilty about it.

By giving ourselves permission to eat and not feeling constantly deprived and desperate, we avoid that old cycle of starving for two days only to get utterly depressed and eat a pack of Oreos and a bag of chips for both lunch and dinner the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I might not be there (and admittedly, never really have been), but I do know the guilt over indulging and I know far too many women who are struggling with this very issue, trying to follow the latest diet regimen until they give up and need to deal with the failure. The healthy, realistic approach of moderation as a key is essential to get the message across. As the book unfolds, the author tells it like it is: She explains exactly what's wrong with unhealthy food and wild lifestyle, but she manages not to be preachy and doomsday-like in her narrative, which I'm guessing would do wonders to convince her young readers to actually make the change. Esther Blum uses honey, almost literally, to trap the flies.

Like Tom Ford, Blum knows that sex sells. That's probably why the sex chapter, Gorgeous in Bed, is the longest one in the book. But it's not what it looks. Under the cover of "Let's talk about sex", she actually teaches about food. You'll hear what's good for healthy sex life (healthy food, surprise! and exercise!) and what isn't. You'll learn that processed items, hydrogenated oils and refined sugars are going to ruin your libido, keep you feel sluggish and bloated, and make your hoo-ha stink. That alone is a good enough reason to get friendly with brown rice and steamed spinach.

It's an interesting approach, if nothing else. I can vouch for one aspect: If start thinking about certain foods and beverages as poison, you significantly lower the frequency and intensity of uncontrollable cravings. That's how I quit drinking soda of any kind about eight years ago and why I have no interest in commercial candy bars (Belgian chocolate is a completely different thing, though). I guess if the target audience is most obsessed with dating, showing them how junk food is sabotaging its sex life is a very smart move.

One thing I've definitely learned from the book is about certain dietary supplements. I already down a handful a day, but this routine can and should be tweaked according to specific needs and I'm going to look deeper into it, with the recommendations in mind. I also remember that Ms. Blum's employer, Dr. Perricone is pushing a full range of expensive products of this very nature. Not a big issue, since she doesn't hawk the products, and I intend to continue buying mine from Whole Foods.

My only real peeve with the book is that it completely ignores the vegetarian route. Yes, protein is good for you, but it doesn't have to be animal-derived. Blum mentions every meat option (including buffalo, ostrich and venison), but she forgets the fact that some of us combine whole grains and legumes for a healthy whole protein that is easy to digest and gives a lot of other health benefits. Just as eating small amounts of of organic tofu (preferably fresh) is actually good for you (unlike over-processed soy and wheat protein from unknown sources).

what I'd really hope to see in the future, other than a vegetarian chapter, is also a version of this book geared towards men. Young women aren't the only ones who need to ditch the dollar menu and get acquainted with broccoli. I wonder how the sex chapter would look in that one.

What Would Carrie Bradshaw Eat? Eat, Drink, and Be Gorgeous- A Book Review



Reading a book that wasn't truly written for you can feel like eavesdropping on someone else's life. It's awkward at times, but you can still learn a thing or two.

Case in point: Eat, Drink and Be Gorgeous, a nutritionist's guide to living well while living it up by Esther Blum, who is a dietitian at the N.V. Perricone Lifestyle Center in NYC. The book is geared towards a certain demographic: Young single women, who live, date and work in urban areas, drink a lot and are trying to get themselves together and feel better, but are not entirely sure how to do it. However, I, at (nearly) 37, equipped with a husband, a rice cooker, a good skin care routine, an elliptical trainer, and eating a vegetarian diet, am not the audience Ms. Blum had in mind.

I wasn't too enthusiastic at first about the girl-talk writing style or the gushing promises to make it all better for the reader. I remember being in my early twenties, confused and tired. There were times even Jane Austen couldn't make it all better for me, so I doubt any other book can do it. However, even at the very beginning there was something that caught my attention and made me listen more closely. The author stresses the need to take the shame out of eating as a first step to developing healthy habits. She wants us to enjoy what we eat, have the best chocolate we can afford, treat ourselves nicely, be in the moment and not feel guilty about it.

By giving ourselves permission to eat and not feeling constantly deprived and desperate, we avoid that old cycle of starving for two days only to get utterly depressed and eat a pack of Oreos and a bag of chips for both lunch and dinner the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I might not be there (and admittedly, never really have been), but I do know the guilt over indulging and I know far too many women who are struggling with this very issue, trying to follow the latest diet regimen until they give up and need to deal with the failure. The healthy, realistic approach of moderation as a key is essential to get the message across. As the book unfolds, the author tells it like it is: She explains exactly what's wrong with unhealthy food and wild lifestyle, but she manages not to be preachy and doomsday-like in her narrative, which I'm guessing would do wonders to convince her young readers to actually make the change. Esther Blum uses honey, almost literally, to trap the flies.

Like Tom Ford, Blum knows that sex sells. That's probably why the sex chapter, Gorgeous in Bed, is the longest one in the book. But it's not what it looks. Under the cover of "Let's talk about sex", she actually teaches about food. You'll hear what's good for healthy sex life (healthy food, surprise! and exercise!) and what isn't. You'll learn that processed items, hydrogenated oils and refined sugars are going to ruin your libido, keep you feel sluggish and bloated, and make your hoo-ha stink. That alone is a good enough reason to get friendly with brown rice and steamed spinach.

It's an interesting approach, if nothing else. I can vouch for one aspect: If start thinking about certain foods and beverages as poison, you significantly lower the frequency and intensity of uncontrollable cravings. That's how I quit drinking soda of any kind about eight years ago and why I have no interest in commercial candy bars (Belgian chocolate is a completely different thing, though). I guess if the target audience is most obsessed with dating, showing them how junk food is sabotaging its sex life is a very smart move.

One thing I've definitely learned from the book is about certain dietary supplements. I already down a handful a day, but this routine can and should be tweaked according to specific needs and I'm going to look deeper into it, with the recommendations in mind. I also remember that Ms. Blum's employer, Dr. Perricone is pushing a full range of expensive products of this very nature. Not a big issue, since she doesn't hawk the products, and I intend to continue buying mine from Whole Foods.

My only real peeve with the book is that it completely ignores the vegetarian route. Yes, protein is good for you, but it doesn't have to be animal-derived. Blum mentions every meat option (including buffalo, ostrich and venison), but she forgets the fact that some of us combine whole grains and legumes for a healthy whole protein that is easy to digest and gives a lot of other health benefits. Just as eating small amounts of of organic tofu (preferably fresh) is actually good for you (unlike over-processed soy and wheat protein from unknown sources).

what I'd really hope to see in the future, other than a vegetarian chapter, is also a version of this book geared towards men. Young women aren't the only ones who need to ditch the dollar menu and get acquainted with broccoli. I wonder how the sex chapter would look in that one.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Spice and Everything Nice- Serge Lutens Rousse



The truth is that I have been wearing Rousse ever since I got my bottle, throughout the summer. It did well in the heat and didn't bloom too crazily. I hope. But I couldn't wait to try the spicy cinnamon heat in its natural habitat of gray days, cold nights, crunchy leaves and fall colors.

You know how it is: The weather cools down, trench coats and cashmere are pulled out of their storage and you start thinking about baking cookies and wearing spicy perfumes. Rousse sort of combines them all, except that his cinnamon and spice aren't really the stuff gingerbread is made of, but more of a spiced wine and mulled cider.

The opening notes are full of cinnamon, soon to be joined by rich fruit. The mandarin note is sweet, but not cloying and it doesn't make the scent into the juice on the bottom of a fruit cup. It's familiar and comforting, but it blends well into the spices and woods and keeps them from becoming too dark. Rousse's heart is playful and uplifting: Clove? Carnation? Something sparkly is going on there, making me think of red vitrage windows catching the light.

The base is beautiful and well-blended. The various notes come together perfectly into a sweet, woody-ambery base. On my skin the cinnamon and mouthwatering spice never go away. On my husband it was much more dry. He found the amber to be a bit too much for him, but I beg to differ. He should probably give it another try in the cooler weather. If he can pry the bottle from my hand, that is.

First image is the official ad for Rousse. Beautiful but doesn't match my idea of this scent.
The second picture is of an artwork made of real cinnamon, by Bulgarian artist Vasco Tsenev.

Rousse and the other Serge Lutens scents of his export line are available from Aedes, Barneys and all the other usual suspects, now also including Luckyscent, which is great news for those of you on the West Coast.

Spice and Everything Nice- Serge Lutens Rousse



The truth is that I have been wearing Rousse ever since I got my bottle, throughout the summer. It did well in the heat and didn't bloom too crazily. I hope. But I couldn't wait to try the spicy cinnamon heat in its natural habitat of gray days, cold nights, crunchy leaves and fall colors.

You know how it is: The weather cools down, trench coats and cashmere are pulled out of their storage and you start thinking about baking cookies and wearing spicy perfumes. Rousse sort of combines them all, except that his cinnamon and spice aren't really the stuff gingerbread is made of, but more of a spiced wine and mulled cider.

The opening notes are full of cinnamon, soon to be joined by rich fruit. The mandarin note is sweet, but not cloying and it doesn't make the scent into the juice on the bottom of a fruit cup. It's familiar and comforting, but it blends well into the spices and woods and keeps them from becoming too dark. Rousse's heart is playful and uplifting: Clove? Carnation? Something sparkly is going on there, making me think of red vitrage windows catching the light.

The base is beautiful and well-blended. The various notes come together perfectly into a sweet, woody-ambery base. On my skin the cinnamon and mouthwatering spice never go away. On my husband it was much more dry. He found the amber to be a bit too much for him, but I beg to differ. He should probably give it another try in the cooler weather. If he can pry the bottle from my hand, that is.

First image is the official ad for Rousse. Beautiful but doesn't match my idea of this scent.
The second picture is of an artwork made of real cinnamon, by Bulgarian artist Vasco Tsenev.

Rousse and the other Serge Lutens scents of his export line are available from Aedes, Barneys and all the other usual suspects, now also including Luckyscent, which is great news for those of you on the West Coast.

Spice and Everything Nice- Serge Lutens Rousse



The truth is that I have been wearing Rousse ever since I got my bottle, throughout the summer. It did well in the heat and didn't bloom too crazily. I hope. But I couldn't wait to try the spicy cinnamon heat in its natural habitat of gray days, cold nights, crunchy leaves and fall colors.

You know how it is: The weather cools down, trench coats and cashmere are pulled out of their storage and you start thinking about baking cookies and wearing spicy perfumes. Rousse sort of combines them all, except that his cinnamon and spice aren't really the stuff gingerbread is made of, but more of a spiced wine and mulled cider.

The opening notes are full of cinnamon, soon to be joined by rich fruit. The mandarin note is sweet, but not cloying and it doesn't make the scent into the juice on the bottom of a fruit cup. It's familiar and comforting, but it blends well into the spices and woods and keeps them from becoming too dark. Rousse's heart is playful and uplifting: Clove? Carnation? Something sparkly is going on there, making me think of red vitrage windows catching the light.

The base is beautiful and well-blended. The various notes come together perfectly into a sweet, woody-ambery base. On my skin the cinnamon and mouthwatering spice never go away. On my husband it was much more dry. He found the amber to be a bit too much for him, but I beg to differ. He should probably give it another try in the cooler weather. If he can pry the bottle from my hand, that is.

First image is the official ad for Rousse. Beautiful but doesn't match my idea of this scent.
The second picture is of an artwork made of real cinnamon, by Bulgarian artist Vasco Tsenev.

Rousse and the other Serge Lutens scents of his export line are available from Aedes, Barneys and all the other usual suspects, now also including Luckyscent, which is great news for those of you on the West Coast.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

From the diary of a cranky shopper

Let's talk about sales assistants.

Everyone I know has a story or two and I've heard some amusing theories about special training in customer-terrorizing. Considering my experience lately, I'm starting to think it might be true.

I know a thing or two about perfume. If I'm telling you that I have no interest in big white florals, please (please!) don't try to grab my wrist and spray it with Estee Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia. And don't argue with me about the effect of gardenia, ok? I can smell it from the bottle just fine and there's no way in hell that stuff is getting on my skin. Ever.
Strike number 1 for Saks 5th Avenue (my local one, not the flag store in NYC).

Another Saks moment, from today: I was trying on handbags, in a futile attempt to find the perfect black purse. Despite my request to browse by myself, the bag lady insisted on striking up a conversation. I can deal with that, as long as I'm not being crowded (and I was). Also: Do not contradict a customer. If I feel that a purse is too wide for me, then it is. If I tell you it's too small for my needs, then I'm right. Seriously: If I'm going to have to choose between carrying my wallet and my cell phone, then it is too small. Why argue?

But the one that takes the cake is what happened to me a couple of weeks ago at the fashion floor of Barneys in Manhattan. Picture this: Here I am, wearing a little black dress and high heels, carrying an unmistakable red Valentino purse and a small Barneys shopping bag from the beauty department (I indulged in some Lutens). As I was stepping away from the escalator, two sales assistants were eyeing me. Apparently, not with approval, because as I was approaching the racks, one of them stopped me and said: "It took you way too long to get here!". I was about to say "excuse me?" when she and her friend started snickering :"Oh, I thought you were our seamstress".

Granted, I don't look very Upper East Side, and my very long hair has something slightly bohemian about it, but I'd think that my appearance still said "potential customer". And the thing is, the smirking made it obvious that it was meant as an insult. I started half-heartedly browsing the Lanvin display, kicking myself for not responding with a snappy comeback. I found a sweater I liked, but decided I'm not giving them my business. Why should I?

From the diary of a cranky shopper

Let's talk about sales assistants.

Everyone I know has a story or two and I've heard some amusing theories about special training in customer-terrorizing. Considering my experience lately, I'm starting to think it might be true.

I know a thing or two about perfume. If I'm telling you that I have no interest in big white florals, please (please!) don't try to grab my wrist and spray it with Estee Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia. And don't argue with me about the effect of gardenia, ok? I can smell it from the bottle just fine and there's no way in hell that stuff is getting on my skin. Ever.
Strike number 1 for Saks 5th Avenue (my local one, not the flag store in NYC).

Another Saks moment, from today: I was trying on handbags, in a futile attempt to find the perfect black purse. Despite my request to browse by myself, the bag lady insisted on striking up a conversation. I can deal with that, as long as I'm not being crowded (and I was). Also: Do not contradict a customer. If I feel that a purse is too wide for me, then it is. If I tell you it's too small for my needs, then I'm right. Seriously: If I'm going to have to choose between carrying my wallet and my cell phone, then it is too small. Why argue?

But the one that takes the cake is what happened to me a couple of weeks ago at the fashion floor of Barneys in Manhattan. Picture this: Here I am, wearing a little black dress and high heels, carrying an unmistakable red Valentino purse and a small Barneys shopping bag from the beauty department (I indulged in some Lutens). As I was stepping away from the escalator, two sales assistants were eyeing me. Apparently, not with approval, because as I was approaching the racks, one of them stopped me and said: "It took you way too long to get here!". I was about to say "excuse me?" when she and her friend started snickering :"Oh, I thought you were our seamstress".

Granted, I don't look very Upper East Side, and my very long hair has something slightly bohemian about it, but I'd think that my appearance still said "potential customer". And the thing is, the smirking made it obvious that it was meant as an insult. I started half-heartedly browsing the Lanvin display, kicking myself for not responding with a snappy comeback. I found a sweater I liked, but decided I'm not giving them my business. Why should I?

From the diary of a cranky shopper

Let's talk about sales assistants.

Everyone I know has a story or two and I've heard some amusing theories about special training in customer-terrorizing. Considering my experience lately, I'm starting to think it might be true.

I know a thing or two about perfume. If I'm telling you that I have no interest in big white florals, please (please!) don't try to grab my wrist and spray it with Estee Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia. And don't argue with me about the effect of gardenia, ok? I can smell it from the bottle just fine and there's no way in hell that stuff is getting on my skin. Ever.
Strike number 1 for Saks 5th Avenue (my local one, not the flag store in NYC).

Another Saks moment, from today: I was trying on handbags, in a futile attempt to find the perfect black purse. Despite my request to browse by myself, the bag lady insisted on striking up a conversation. I can deal with that, as long as I'm not being crowded (and I was). Also: Do not contradict a customer. If I feel that a purse is too wide for me, then it is. If I tell you it's too small for my needs, then I'm right. Seriously: If I'm going to have to choose between carrying my wallet and my cell phone, then it is too small. Why argue?

But the one that takes the cake is what happened to me a couple of weeks ago at the fashion floor of Barneys in Manhattan. Picture this: Here I am, wearing a little black dress and high heels, carrying an unmistakable red Valentino purse and a small Barneys shopping bag from the beauty department (I indulged in some Lutens). As I was stepping away from the escalator, two sales assistants were eyeing me. Apparently, not with approval, because as I was approaching the racks, one of them stopped me and said: "It took you way too long to get here!". I was about to say "excuse me?" when she and her friend started snickering :"Oh, I thought you were our seamstress".

Granted, I don't look very Upper East Side, and my very long hair has something slightly bohemian about it, but I'd think that my appearance still said "potential customer". And the thing is, the smirking made it obvious that it was meant as an insult. I started half-heartedly browsing the Lanvin display, kicking myself for not responding with a snappy comeback. I found a sweater I liked, but decided I'm not giving them my business. Why should I?

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Because we really need more lip gloss


Here's a challenge: How many tubes of lip gloss do you have, including the ones in your makeup drawer, cabinet, in the emergency stash in your office, in your car and in each and every purse, handbag and evening clutch? If you're me, you can't really tell. There's always another one hidden somewhere. You rarely get to actually finish a tube before purchasing another one and you're always (always!) in the market for something new.

Carol's Daughter Candy Paint glosses don't look like something new: The tubes are identical to Lancome's Juicy Tubes, and the concept of high-shine gloss with plenty of shimmer isn't a revelation, either. The exciting part about the product is the promise of being easy on the lips and providing extra nourishment through ingredients like shea butter and grape seed oil.

The glosses, although just a bit gritty from the shimmer particles, do deliver when it comes to comfort. They coat the lips lightly without being sticky or heavy, and feel very pleasant. I'm happy not having to report any incident of hair or food sticking to my lips.

I'm not too fond of the sugary candy smell, but it fades almost instantly, so I don't really mind. The shine and shimmer are very intense, to the point they'd appeal to a younger crowd. I'd still wear them happily for a night out and in the summer, just not for an elegant fall look. Another issue is the lasting power, which is quite poor. They fade within 90 minutes or a cup of tea, whichever comes first. However, they leave the lips feeling soft and healthy, so reapplying feels like you're doing yourself a nice favor.

The colors I tried are the ones you see in the picture above: Bossy (bright bronze shimmer) is less pigmented than it looks. Basically, it's an almost clear gloss with lots of gold particles. It looks great over other colors, but I'm keeping it in my evening bag. It's just too much for an autumn day. The second one, Grown and Sexy, is a light rose with gold shimmer. Somehow, the natural rose color tones down the golden flakes and make it much more wearable. It's pretty by itself and doesn't need a layer of color underneath. This one goes right into my day bag.

The glosses are available directly from the company's website or from Sephora (who have all the colors in stock, including the ones missing from Carol's Daughter current inventory, though as you can see, it's not really that exclusive). Speaking of Sephora, now until Sunday you can get free shipping on orders $25 and up, using the code FREESHIP25.

Because we really need more lip gloss


Here's a challenge: How many tubes of lip gloss do you have, including the ones in your makeup drawer, cabinet, in the emergency stash in your office, in your car and in each and every purse, handbag and evening clutch? If you're me, you can't really tell. There's always another one hidden somewhere. You rarely get to actually finish a tube before purchasing another one and you're always (always!) in the market for something new.

Carol's Daughter Candy Paint glosses don't look like something new: The tubes are identical to Lancome's Juicy Tubes, and the concept of high-shine gloss with plenty of shimmer isn't a revelation, either. The exciting part about the product is the promise of being easy on the lips and providing extra nourishment through ingredients like shea butter and grape seed oil.

The glosses, although just a bit gritty from the shimmer particles, do deliver when it comes to comfort. They coat the lips lightly without being sticky or heavy, and feel very pleasant. I'm happy not having to report any incident of hair or food sticking to my lips.

I'm not too fond of the sugary candy smell, but it fades almost instantly, so I don't really mind. The shine and shimmer are very intense, to the point they'd appeal to a younger crowd. I'd still wear them happily for a night out and in the summer, just not for an elegant fall look. Another issue is the lasting power, which is quite poor. They fade within 90 minutes or a cup of tea, whichever comes first. However, they leave the lips feeling soft and healthy, so reapplying feels like you're doing yourself a nice favor.

The colors I tried are the ones you see in the picture above: Bossy (bright bronze shimmer) is less pigmented than it looks. Basically, it's an almost clear gloss with lots of gold particles. It looks great over other colors, but I'm keeping it in my evening bag. It's just too much for an autumn day. The second one, Grown and Sexy, is a light rose with gold shimmer. Somehow, the natural rose color tones down the golden flakes and make it much more wearable. It's pretty by itself and doesn't need a layer of color underneath. This one goes right into my day bag.

The glosses are available directly from the company's website or from Sephora (who have all the colors in stock, including the ones missing from Carol's Daughter current inventory, though as you can see, it's not really that exclusive). Speaking of Sephora, now until Sunday you can get free shipping on orders $25 and up, using the code FREESHIP25.

Because we really need more lip gloss


Here's a challenge: How many tubes of lip gloss do you have, including the ones in your makeup drawer, cabinet, in the emergency stash in your office, in your car and in each and every purse, handbag and evening clutch? If you're me, you can't really tell. There's always another one hidden somewhere. You rarely get to actually finish a tube before purchasing another one and you're always (always!) in the market for something new.

Carol's Daughter Candy Paint glosses don't look like something new: The tubes are identical to Lancome's Juicy Tubes, and the concept of high-shine gloss with plenty of shimmer isn't a revelation, either. The exciting part about the product is the promise of being easy on the lips and providing extra nourishment through ingredients like shea butter and grape seed oil.

The glosses, although just a bit gritty from the shimmer particles, do deliver when it comes to comfort. They coat the lips lightly without being sticky or heavy, and feel very pleasant. I'm happy not having to report any incident of hair or food sticking to my lips.

I'm not too fond of the sugary candy smell, but it fades almost instantly, so I don't really mind. The shine and shimmer are very intense, to the point they'd appeal to a younger crowd. I'd still wear them happily for a night out and in the summer, just not for an elegant fall look. Another issue is the lasting power, which is quite poor. They fade within 90 minutes or a cup of tea, whichever comes first. However, they leave the lips feeling soft and healthy, so reapplying feels like you're doing yourself a nice favor.

The colors I tried are the ones you see in the picture above: Bossy (bright bronze shimmer) is less pigmented than it looks. Basically, it's an almost clear gloss with lots of gold particles. It looks great over other colors, but I'm keeping it in my evening bag. It's just too much for an autumn day. The second one, Grown and Sexy, is a light rose with gold shimmer. Somehow, the natural rose color tones down the golden flakes and make it much more wearable. It's pretty by itself and doesn't need a layer of color underneath. This one goes right into my day bag.

The glosses are available directly from the company's website or from Sephora (who have all the colors in stock, including the ones missing from Carol's Daughter current inventory, though as you can see, it's not really that exclusive). Speaking of Sephora, now until Sunday you can get free shipping on orders $25 and up, using the code FREESHIP25.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Behind the Red Door


Something must be going on in Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa, other than the renovation of the first floor of their 5th Avenue salon. I've received two different and unrelated press releases about news from behind the red door.

First, my current nail polish obsession, Zoya , has won some major recognition in becoming the exclusive nail polish brand of the Red Door Spa (in all 31 locations, as well as 20 Chicago-based Mario Tricoci Hair Salons & Day Spas). It's quite impressive, considering that Arden have their own line of nail lacquer.

The other news is their Ultimate Arden Facial, an 80 minute treatment that sounds heavenly:
"After cleansing, toning and exfoliation, this multi-faceted beauty indulgence lavishes you with a warm stone upper body massage, a hand-softening treatment and a soothing cool stone facial massage. Following a refreshing eye contour treatment, our unique face and décolleté firming mask is applied. A relaxing scalp massage and lip or brow wax are our divine touches. Flawless makeup application crowns this totally transcending spa experience."

Well, heavenly except for that waxing part. Somehow, that doesn't sound as relaxing as the rest of the treatment.
Since this service is new and is just being launched, the price is also quite attractive, at $175. I'm seriously tempted to give myself a birthday treat. Just without the part where someone rips hair off of my face.

Behind the Red Door


Something must be going on in Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa, other than the renovation of the first floor of their 5th Avenue salon. I've received two different and unrelated press releases about news from behind the red door.

First, my current nail polish obsession, Zoya , has won some major recognition in becoming the exclusive nail polish brand of the Red Door Spa (in all 31 locations, as well as 20 Chicago-based Mario Tricoci Hair Salons & Day Spas). It's quite impressive, considering that Arden have their own line of nail lacquer.

The other news is their Ultimate Arden Facial, an 80 minute treatment that sounds heavenly:
"After cleansing, toning and exfoliation, this multi-faceted beauty indulgence lavishes you with a warm stone upper body massage, a hand-softening treatment and a soothing cool stone facial massage. Following a refreshing eye contour treatment, our unique face and décolleté firming mask is applied. A relaxing scalp massage and lip or brow wax are our divine touches. Flawless makeup application crowns this totally transcending spa experience."

Well, heavenly except for that waxing part. Somehow, that doesn't sound as relaxing as the rest of the treatment.
Since this service is new and is just being launched, the price is also quite attractive, at $175. I'm seriously tempted to give myself a birthday treat. Just without the part where someone rips hair off of my face.

Behind the Red Door


Something must be going on in Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa, other than the renovation of the first floor of their 5th Avenue salon. I've received two different and unrelated press releases about news from behind the red door.

First, my current nail polish obsession, Zoya , has won some major recognition in becoming the exclusive nail polish brand of the Red Door Spa (in all 31 locations, as well as 20 Chicago-based Mario Tricoci Hair Salons & Day Spas). It's quite impressive, considering that Arden have their own line of nail lacquer.

The other news is their Ultimate Arden Facial, an 80 minute treatment that sounds heavenly:
"After cleansing, toning and exfoliation, this multi-faceted beauty indulgence lavishes you with a warm stone upper body massage, a hand-softening treatment and a soothing cool stone facial massage. Following a refreshing eye contour treatment, our unique face and décolleté firming mask is applied. A relaxing scalp massage and lip or brow wax are our divine touches. Flawless makeup application crowns this totally transcending spa experience."

Well, heavenly except for that waxing part. Somehow, that doesn't sound as relaxing as the rest of the treatment.
Since this service is new and is just being launched, the price is also quite attractive, at $175. I'm seriously tempted to give myself a birthday treat. Just without the part where someone rips hair off of my face.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Time Travel- Miss Dior Parfum


How do you approach an iconic fragrance?

There's the history: Year of creation (1947), cultural connotations (the first years after WWII) and fashion reference (Christian Dior's New Look). But it all vanishes the moment you apply the perfume to your skin. First there's a whirlwind of unspecified memories. After all, this scent has been around since the year my mother was born, so while I can't tell for sure where and on whom I've smelled it first (not on my mom, whose as an anti-chypre as IFRA), it's green, elegant opening feels like an old family heirloom. It's also sharp, uncompromising and not entirely friendly in this day and age of sweet, fruity top notes. While I deeply dislike the cloying pink strawberryness of the modern version, Miss Dior Cherie, based on the green top notes of the classic Miss Dior, I couldn't be sure I would want to wear it again. Not for fun, at least.

The scent changes as the notes develop. The jasmine-rose heart feels familiar as other classic, lady-like fragrances. It softens, warms up and gets easier to wear, if you're a fan of leather-oakmoss-patchouli drydowns, which I am, most of the time. The patch sweetens the deal significantly and makes the leather chyper base easier to wear than another classic from that era, Bandit. It feels like there's silk and lace under the leather, expensive ones.

The longer I wear it, the easier it becomes. It's plush and polished, has a velvety, feminine presence, pearls and high-heeled pumps. Some find it sexy, others might feel suffocated by girdles and gloves. It's worth trying and befriending, for the pretty and for the feeling of wearing a true classic. Who doesn't want to look like the lady in Dior above?

My bottle is a vintage from about 15 years ago, before oakmoss got its bad rap. There are rumours of reformulations, but the notes listed for the version currently sold still have oakmoss in them. While the EdT is widely available, the parfum is a Saks exclusive.

Original Miss Dior ads from 1949 and 1950: Okadi.com
Dior fashion photograph:
Fashion Photography- A Historical Perspective.


Time Travel- Miss Dior Parfum


How do you approach an iconic fragrance?

There's the history: Year of creation (1947), cultural connotations (the first years after WWII) and fashion reference (Christian Dior's New Look). But it all vanishes the moment you apply the perfume to your skin. First there's a whirlwind of unspecified memories. After all, this scent has been around since the year my mother was born, so while I can't tell for sure where and on whom I've smelled it first (not on my mom, whose as an anti-chypre as IFRA), it's green, elegant opening feels like an old family heirloom. It's also sharp, uncompromising and not entirely friendly in this day and age of sweet, fruity top notes. While I deeply dislike the cloying pink strawberryness of the modern version, Miss Dior Cherie, based on the green top notes of the classic Miss Dior, I couldn't be sure I would want to wear it again. Not for fun, at least.

The scent changes as the notes develop. The jasmine-rose heart feels familiar as other classic, lady-like fragrances. It softens, warms up and gets easier to wear, if you're a fan of leather-oakmoss-patchouli drydowns, which I am, most of the time. The patch sweetens the deal significantly and makes the leather chyper base easier to wear than another classic from that era, Bandit. It feels like there's silk and lace under the leather, expensive ones.

The longer I wear it, the easier it becomes. It's plush and polished, has a velvety, feminine presence, pearls and high-heeled pumps. Some find it sexy, others might feel suffocated by girdles and gloves. It's worth trying and befriending, for the pretty and for the feeling of wearing a true classic. Who doesn't want to look like the lady in Dior above?

My bottle is a vintage from about 15 years ago, before oakmoss got its bad rap. There are rumours of reformulations, but the notes listed for the version currently sold still have oakmoss in them. While the EdT is widely available, the parfum is a Saks exclusive.

Original Miss Dior ads from 1949 and 1950: Okadi.com
Dior fashion photograph:
Fashion Photography- A Historical Perspective.


Time Travel- Miss Dior Parfum


How do you approach an iconic fragrance?

There's the history: Year of creation (1947), cultural connotations (the first years after WWII) and fashion reference (Christian Dior's New Look). But it all vanishes the moment you apply the perfume to your skin. First there's a whirlwind of unspecified memories. After all, this scent has been around since the year my mother was born, so while I can't tell for sure where and on whom I've smelled it first (not on my mom, whose as an anti-chypre as IFRA), it's green, elegant opening feels like an old family heirloom. It's also sharp, uncompromising and not entirely friendly in this day and age of sweet, fruity top notes. While I deeply dislike the cloying pink strawberryness of the modern version, Miss Dior Cherie, based on the green top notes of the classic Miss Dior, I couldn't be sure I would want to wear it again. Not for fun, at least.

The scent changes as the notes develop. The jasmine-rose heart feels familiar as other classic, lady-like fragrances. It softens, warms up and gets easier to wear, if you're a fan of leather-oakmoss-patchouli drydowns, which I am, most of the time. The patch sweetens the deal significantly and makes the leather chyper base easier to wear than another classic from that era, Bandit. It feels like there's silk and lace under the leather, expensive ones.

The longer I wear it, the easier it becomes. It's plush and polished, has a velvety, feminine presence, pearls and high-heeled pumps. Some find it sexy, others might feel suffocated by girdles and gloves. It's worth trying and befriending, for the pretty and for the feeling of wearing a true classic. Who doesn't want to look like the lady in Dior above?

My bottle is a vintage from about 15 years ago, before oakmoss got its bad rap. There are rumours of reformulations, but the notes listed for the version currently sold still have oakmoss in them. While the EdT is widely available, the parfum is a Saks exclusive.

Original Miss Dior ads from 1949 and 1950: Okadi.com
Dior fashion photograph:
Fashion Photography- A Historical Perspective.


Friday, October 19, 2007

Cate Goes Wrong


Perfection from the shoulders up, but a royal mess of a dress. I can only assume Cate Blanchett didn't have a mirror around when getting dresses for the screening of ‘Elizabeth: The Golden Age ‘ at the second annual Rome Film Festival. Otherwise, I can't explain how an intelligent actress who normally displays great taste and excellent fashion sense would leave her hotel room in such a gown. Between the odd proportions, a top that doesn't fit and the godawfulness of the hip and waist, this Armani Privé dress is the worst one I've seen in ages.


Photo courtesy of Faded Youth Blog

Cate Goes Wrong


Perfection from the shoulders up, but a royal mess of a dress. I can only assume Cate Blanchett didn't have a mirror around when getting dresses for the screening of ‘Elizabeth: The Golden Age ‘ at the second annual Rome Film Festival. Otherwise, I can't explain how an intelligent actress who normally displays great taste and excellent fashion sense would leave her hotel room in such a gown. Between the odd proportions, a top that doesn't fit and the godawfulness of the hip and waist, this Armani Privé dress is the worst one I've seen in ages.


Photo courtesy of Faded Youth Blog

Cate Goes Wrong


Perfection from the shoulders up, but a royal mess of a dress. I can only assume Cate Blanchett didn't have a mirror around when getting dresses for the screening of ‘Elizabeth: The Golden Age ‘ at the second annual Rome Film Festival. Otherwise, I can't explain how an intelligent actress who normally displays great taste and excellent fashion sense would leave her hotel room in such a gown. Between the odd proportions, a top that doesn't fit and the godawfulness of the hip and waist, this Armani Privé dress is the worst one I've seen in ages.


Photo courtesy of Faded Youth Blog

What's wrong with this picture?


Apparently, 18 month old Suri Cruise has a recognizable (and popular) enough face to sell a gossip magazine.

What's wrong with this picture?


Apparently, 18 month old Suri Cruise has a recognizable (and popular) enough face to sell a gossip magazine.