Liv Tyler Presents: Perfection

I'm back from Paris, tired and perfumed. There are many stories to tell, shopping advice and fun discoveries to share, but I'm too jet-lagged to make sense or form full sentences. Instead, I'd rather stare at Liv Tyler at the Christian Dior show of Paris Haute Couture Fashion Week. It's great to see her looking so perfect (after a couple of bad red carpet choices: here and here). While I'm not sure about the shoes, she brings back some classic Hollywood glamor (Janet Jackson notwithstanding).

What say you? Do you like the shoes?

Images: Faded Youth Blog

Liv Tyler Presents: Perfection

I'm back from Paris, tired and perfumed. There are many stories to tell, shopping advice and fun discoveries to share, but I'm too jet-lagged to make sense or form full sentences. Instead, I'd rather stare at Liv Tyler at the Christian Dior show of Paris Haute Couture Fashion Week. It's great to see her looking so perfect (after a couple of bad red carpet choices: here and here). While I'm not sure about the shoes, she brings back some classic Hollywood glamor (Janet Jackson notwithstanding).

What say you? Do you like the shoes?

Images: Faded Youth Blog

Liv Tyler Presents: Perfection

I'm back from Paris, tired and perfumed. There are many stories to tell, shopping advice and fun discoveries to share, but I'm too jet-lagged to make sense or form full sentences. Instead, I'd rather stare at Liv Tyler at the Christian Dior show of Paris Haute Couture Fashion Week. It's great to see her looking so perfect (after a couple of bad red carpet choices: here and here). While I'm not sure about the shoes, she brings back some classic Hollywood glamor (Janet Jackson notwithstanding).

What say you? Do you like the shoes?

Images: Faded Youth Blog

Insert Lemon Jokes Here- Lush Lemony Flutter

The best thing about Lush Lemony Flutter is the name. It sounds light and airy, and makes you think about fluffy things, like lemon meringue pie. You'll need to adjust your expectation before trying it, because this thick buttery cream smells more like a lemony shoe shine (I'm always amazed by Lush fanatics who claim the products smell "yummy". From my experience, the best I can hope for is pleasant).

It comes in a little pot you need to dip your fingers (germaphobes will shudder), and you only need very little to grease your scales. I'm unconvinced of its merit as a hand cream, because it takes too long to stop leaving prints on my keyboard (and it makes cat hair stick to my hands). It feels nice when the grease is gone, though.

I can see why you'd want to use in on calluses and anywhere that needs to be seriously buttered, so it's good to have around. It's just not a fun product and doesn't feel lush and luxirious. The small packaging is convenient, but I much prefer the travel size tubes from L'Occitane.

Lush products are available online and from their stores, the latter is where I bought mine ($13.25).

Insert Lemon Jokes Here- Lush Lemony Flutter

The best thing about Lush Lemony Flutter is the name. It sounds light and airy, and makes you think about fluffy things, like lemon meringue pie. You'll need to adjust your expectation before trying it, because this thick buttery cream smells more like a lemony shoe shine (I'm always amazed by Lush fanatics who claim the products smell "yummy". From my experience, the best I can hope for is pleasant).

It comes in a little pot you need to dip your fingers (germaphobes will shudder), and you only need very little to grease your scales. I'm unconvinced of its merit as a hand cream, because it takes too long to stop leaving prints on my keyboard (and it makes cat hair stick to my hands). It feels nice when the grease is gone, though.

I can see why you'd want to use in on calluses and anywhere that needs to be seriously buttered, so it's good to have around. It's just not a fun product and doesn't feel lush and luxirious. The small packaging is convenient, but I much prefer the travel size tubes from L'Occitane.

Lush products are available online and from their stores, the latter is where I bought mine ($13.25).

Insert Lemon Jokes Here- Lush Lemony Flutter

The best thing about Lush Lemony Flutter is the name. It sounds light and airy, and makes you think about fluffy things, like lemon meringue pie. You'll need to adjust your expectation before trying it, because this thick buttery cream smells more like a lemony shoe shine (I'm always amazed by Lush fanatics who claim the products smell "yummy". From my experience, the best I can hope for is pleasant).

It comes in a little pot you need to dip your fingers (germaphobes will shudder), and you only need very little to grease your scales. I'm unconvinced of its merit as a hand cream, because it takes too long to stop leaving prints on my keyboard (and it makes cat hair stick to my hands). It feels nice when the grease is gone, though.

I can see why you'd want to use in on calluses and anywhere that needs to be seriously buttered, so it's good to have around. It's just not a fun product and doesn't feel lush and luxirious. The small packaging is convenient, but I much prefer the travel size tubes from L'Occitane.

Lush products are available online and from their stores, the latter is where I bought mine ($13.25).

Face Time High Glass Lip Gloss

While deciding to go a la carte when I ordered my items from Face Time, instead of going with their boxed packages, I still went by the look that appealed to me most, the Sultry. I especially wanted the darker option for lips, as most of the colors seemed too pink and sheer.

I chose Jealousy (not a fan of this name), which is described as a warm tan tone, but ended up more of a sheer nude. Maybe I should have tried Image, but the threat of shimmer kept me away. While I wasn't planning on a nude, it's still pretty and wearable (doesn't make my lips look dead or J. Lo-fied). The fabulous part is the texture: light, comfortable and not sticky. I hope they'd add more interesting colors for the sake of those among us who have naturally darker lips (plum, please!). In the meantime, I like to mix it with a touch of dark liquid lipstick (I have one from Lorac that's a bit too much by itself).

Those of you who prefer light and pink hues have several choices in this range. If you tried, please comment on your favorites.

Face Time products are only available online, which is where I bought my gloss ($13)

Face Time High Glass Lip Gloss

While deciding to go a la carte when I ordered my items from Face Time, instead of going with their boxed packages, I still went by the look that appealed to me most, the Sultry. I especially wanted the darker option for lips, as most of the colors seemed too pink and sheer.

I chose Jealousy (not a fan of this name), which is described as a warm tan tone, but ended up more of a sheer nude. Maybe I should have tried Image, but the threat of shimmer kept me away. While I wasn't planning on a nude, it's still pretty and wearable (doesn't make my lips look dead or J. Lo-fied). The fabulous part is the texture: light, comfortable and not sticky. I hope they'd add more interesting colors for the sake of those among us who have naturally darker lips (plum, please!). In the meantime, I like to mix it with a touch of dark liquid lipstick (I have one from Lorac that's a bit too much by itself).

Those of you who prefer light and pink hues have several choices in this range. If you tried, please comment on your favorites.

Face Time products are only available online, which is where I bought my gloss ($13)

Face Time High Glass Lip Gloss

While deciding to go a la carte when I ordered my items from Face Time, instead of going with their boxed packages, I still went by the look that appealed to me most, the Sultry. I especially wanted the darker option for lips, as most of the colors seemed too pink and sheer.

I chose Jealousy (not a fan of this name), which is described as a warm tan tone, but ended up more of a sheer nude. Maybe I should have tried Image, but the threat of shimmer kept me away. While I wasn't planning on a nude, it's still pretty and wearable (doesn't make my lips look dead or J. Lo-fied). The fabulous part is the texture: light, comfortable and not sticky. I hope they'd add more interesting colors for the sake of those among us who have naturally darker lips (plum, please!). In the meantime, I like to mix it with a touch of dark liquid lipstick (I have one from Lorac that's a bit too much by itself).

Those of you who prefer light and pink hues have several choices in this range. If you tried, please comment on your favorites.

Face Time products are only available online, which is where I bought my gloss ($13)

New Frederic Malle Perfume By Maurice Roucel

An American Blogger in Paris, Part 1: Stumbling Upon a Scoop

Imagine this: An eager blogger and her long suffering husband are vacationing in Paris. Naturally, they visit every perfume boutique and most beauty stores on both sides of the Seine River (see long suffering husband, above), including the Frederic Malle Edition de Parfum store, where they play with their favorites, discover new ones, and chat with a charming sales assistant who tells them that a new perfume is coming out soon!

The new release, Dans tes Bras (in your arms) was composed by Maurice Roucel, the nose behind my beloved Musc Ravageur and other gorgeous scents (Hermes 24 Faubourg, Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist, Bond no.9 New Haarlem).

It continues the sensual theme of Musc Ravageur, though it's meant to be a little more subtle (don't ask me. On my skin, Musc is a cuddly comfort scent). The notes are: bergamot, cloves, violet, jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, frankincense, cashmeran, heliotrope, white musk.

I didn't have any skin space left, so my experience is through a scent card (what? It's good enough for Luca Turin), which some 16 hours later is still radiating with the fragrance. It's lovely, though heliotrope haters would probably object to the powderiness. It feels like a classic French scent and I'm not entirely sure how steamy it is, but I like it nonetheless.

Dans tes Bras will be available in the US in October 2008.

Photos: The Non Blonde

New Frederic Malle Perfume By Maurice Roucel

An American Blogger in Paris, Part 1: Stumbling Upon a Scoop

Imagine this: An eager blogger and her long suffering husband are vacationing in Paris. Naturally, they visit every perfume boutique and most beauty stores on both sides of the Seine River (see long suffering husband, above), including the Frederic Malle Edition de Parfum store, where they play with their favorites, discover new ones, and chat with a charming sales assistant who tells them that a new perfume is coming out soon!

The new release, Dans tes Bras (in your arms) was composed by Maurice Roucel, the nose behind my beloved Musc Ravageur and other gorgeous scents (Hermes 24 Faubourg, Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist, Bond no.9 New Haarlem).

It continues the sensual theme of Musc Ravageur, though it's meant to be a little more subtle (don't ask me. On my skin, Musc is a cuddly comfort scent). The notes are: bergamot, cloves, violet, jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, frankincense, cashmeran, heliotrope, white musk.

I didn't have any skin space left, so my experience is through a scent card (what? It's good enough for Luca Turin), which some 16 hours later is still radiating with the fragrance. It's lovely, though heliotrope haters would probably object to the powderiness. It feels like a classic French scent and I'm not entirely sure how steamy it is, but I like it nonetheless.

Dans tes Bras will be available in the US in October 2008.

Photos: The Non Blonde

New Frederic Malle Perfume By Maurice Roucel

An American Blogger in Paris, Part 1: Stumbling Upon a Scoop

Imagine this: An eager blogger and her long suffering husband are vacationing in Paris. Naturally, they visit every perfume boutique and most beauty stores on both sides of the Seine River (see long suffering husband, above), including the Frederic Malle Edition de Parfum store, where they play with their favorites, discover new ones, and chat with a charming sales assistant who tells them that a new perfume is coming out soon!

The new release, Dans tes Bras (in your arms) was composed by Maurice Roucel, the nose behind my beloved Musc Ravageur and other gorgeous scents (Hermes 24 Faubourg, Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist, Bond no.9 New Haarlem).

It continues the sensual theme of Musc Ravageur, though it's meant to be a little more subtle (don't ask me. On my skin, Musc is a cuddly comfort scent). The notes are: bergamot, cloves, violet, jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, frankincense, cashmeran, heliotrope, white musk.

I didn't have any skin space left, so my experience is through a scent card (what? It's good enough for Luca Turin), which some 16 hours later is still radiating with the fragrance. It's lovely, though heliotrope haters would probably object to the powderiness. It feels like a classic French scent and I'm not entirely sure how steamy it is, but I like it nonetheless.

Dans tes Bras will be available in the US in October 2008.

Photos: The Non Blonde

Benefit Some Kind Of Gorgeous

I was fully expected to dislike Some Kind Of Gorgeous, a cream-to-powder foundation from Benefit Cosmetics. It only comes in two colors, regular and deep, and the texture had me worried: it feels very oily when you touch it, but goes on quite dry. I had to make sure my face was moisturized and primed, otherwise the powderiness was too much and my skin appeared dry. Actually, I wasn't sold on this product until over a few uses I noticed how well it settles and melts, until it gives a smooth and flawless finish.

The coverage is sheer to medium and the the effect is a very even complexion. Somehow, the regular color is a perfect match for me. I'm still not sure how well it works for very fair faces, but as far as I'm concerned it's a winner. The compact is very travel-friendly, and while you should definitely use a brush for best results, a (clean) finger would work in a pinch, so nothing else is necessary, making it ideal for an overstuffed makeup bag.

Some Kind Of Gorgeous ($26) is available from Sephora, several department stores and online. I got a mini compact as a GWP when I stocked up on some essentials.

Benefit Some Kind Of Gorgeous

I was fully expected to dislike Some Kind Of Gorgeous, a cream-to-powder foundation from Benefit Cosmetics. It only comes in two colors, regular and deep, and the texture had me worried: it feels very oily when you touch it, but goes on quite dry. I had to make sure my face was moisturized and primed, otherwise the powderiness was too much and my skin appeared dry. Actually, I wasn't sold on this product until over a few uses I noticed how well it settles and melts, until it gives a smooth and flawless finish.

The coverage is sheer to medium and the the effect is a very even complexion. Somehow, the regular color is a perfect match for me. I'm still not sure how well it works for very fair faces, but as far as I'm concerned it's a winner. The compact is very travel-friendly, and while you should definitely use a brush for best results, a (clean) finger would work in a pinch, so nothing else is necessary, making it ideal for an overstuffed makeup bag.

Some Kind Of Gorgeous ($26) is available from Sephora, several department stores and online. I got a mini compact as a GWP when I stocked up on some essentials.

Benefit Some Kind Of Gorgeous

I was fully expected to dislike Some Kind Of Gorgeous, a cream-to-powder foundation from Benefit Cosmetics. It only comes in two colors, regular and deep, and the texture had me worried: it feels very oily when you touch it, but goes on quite dry. I had to make sure my face was moisturized and primed, otherwise the powderiness was too much and my skin appeared dry. Actually, I wasn't sold on this product until over a few uses I noticed how well it settles and melts, until it gives a smooth and flawless finish.

The coverage is sheer to medium and the the effect is a very even complexion. Somehow, the regular color is a perfect match for me. I'm still not sure how well it works for very fair faces, but as far as I'm concerned it's a winner. The compact is very travel-friendly, and while you should definitely use a brush for best results, a (clean) finger would work in a pinch, so nothing else is necessary, making it ideal for an overstuffed makeup bag.

Some Kind Of Gorgeous ($26) is available from Sephora, several department stores and online. I got a mini compact as a GWP when I stocked up on some essentials.

The Lost (And Totally Forgotten) Perfumes: Via Lanvin

Since the house of Lanvin is desecrating the memory of its founder, Jeanne Lanvin, by launching a pink fruity floral (blackberry, citruses, pear, peony, freesia, raspberry, sandalwood, amber and musk) and naming it after her*, I thought it was a good time to remember a discontinued perfume from this house, even if it's one that was created years after Madame Lanvin's death: Via Lanvin.

Via Lanvin was launched in 1971 and discontinued in 1984 (according to Basenotes). The 70s, to me, are the years of Charlie (1973), an assertive green-floral-powder little thing that took over the world. There was a point in that decade that the only way not to have a bottle was to be Amish. That was the reality and the market in which Via had to compete. It's also a powdery green floral, but it feels soft and very French. I couldn't find a Lanvin ad for Via (maybe it was the lack of marketing that killed this perfume), but I'm pretty sure it couldn't have been promoted by photos of women in pantsuits or a woman patting a male co-worker's butt. It's not that kind of scent.

I scored a sealed set of Via EdT and parfum. The first time I opened and tried it, it smelled quite fresh, other than a few seconds of stale aldehydes. I liked the elegant greens and the sweetness that followed. The floral heart feels very classic, which is probably what I recognize as "French": LotV, jasmine, orris and rose seemed to be everywhere. I think I like wearing Via because of the carnation note. Carnation and I seem to do well together.

My favorite part is the drydown. There's a moment where the vetiver emerges, and it's dry and fiery, almost smokey. It's more pronounced in the EdT, while the parfum is smoother and a bit muted. I wish there was more of this note before it burns into sweet powder. I also wish the lasting power was more impressive. As it is, I need to bathe in the juice to make it live long enough so I can fully enjoy it.

From the 1984 H&R Fragrance Guide, Feminine Notes:
Via Lanvin (1971) - Sweet Floral
Top Note: leafy green, bergamot, aldehyde, violet, lemon - green flowery
Mid note: lily of the valley, jasmine, orris, carnation, rose, ylang-ylang, narcissus - green floral
Base note: vetiver, cedar, sandalwood, musk, amber, moss - woody powdery

* Robin of NST is quoting a CosmeticsNews article, which originally stated that the house's brilliant designer, Alber Elbaz, was deeply involved in the perfume's creation. Allow me to doubt that.

I bought the set on eBay for less than a song. Bottles of both the EdT and the parfum can still be found there on occasion. Some e-tailers who specialize in rare perfumes offer a 0.25 oz of parfum for about $150. I don't think it's worth it, unless this is your long lost holy grail.

Image: http://www.toutenparfum.com/ . My set looks just like the one pictured.

The Lost (And Totally Forgotten) Perfumes: Via Lanvin

Since the house of Lanvin is desecrating the memory of its founder, Jeanne Lanvin, by launching a pink fruity floral (blackberry, citruses, pear, peony, freesia, raspberry, sandalwood, amber and musk) and naming it after her*, I thought it was a good time to remember a discontinued perfume from this house, even if it's one that was created years after Madame Lanvin's death: Via Lanvin.

Via Lanvin was launched in 1971 and discontinued in 1984 (according to Basenotes). The 70s, to me, are the years of Charlie (1973), an assertive green-floral-powder little thing that took over the world. There was a point in that decade that the only way not to have a bottle was to be Amish. That was the reality and the market in which Via had to compete. It's also a powdery green floral, but it feels soft and very French. I couldn't find a Lanvin ad for Via (maybe it was the lack of marketing that killed this perfume), but I'm pretty sure it couldn't have been promoted by photos of women in pantsuits or a woman patting a male co-worker's butt. It's not that kind of scent.

I scored a sealed set of Via EdT and parfum. The first time I opened and tried it, it smelled quite fresh, other than a few seconds of stale aldehydes. I liked the elegant greens and the sweetness that followed. The floral heart feels very classic, which is probably what I recognize as "French": LotV, jasmine, orris and rose seemed to be everywhere. I think I like wearing Via because of the carnation note. Carnation and I seem to do well together.

My favorite part is the drydown. There's a moment where the vetiver emerges, and it's dry and fiery, almost smokey. It's more pronounced in the EdT, while the parfum is smoother and a bit muted. I wish there was more of this note before it burns into sweet powder. I also wish the lasting power was more impressive. As it is, I need to bathe in the juice to make it live long enough so I can fully enjoy it.

From the 1984 H&R Fragrance Guide, Feminine Notes:
Via Lanvin (1971) - Sweet Floral
Top Note: leafy green, bergamot, aldehyde, violet, lemon - green flowery
Mid note: lily of the valley, jasmine, orris, carnation, rose, ylang-ylang, narcissus - green floral
Base note: vetiver, cedar, sandalwood, musk, amber, moss - woody powdery

* Robin of NST is quoting a CosmeticsNews article, which originally stated that the house's brilliant designer, Alber Elbaz, was deeply involved in the perfume's creation. Allow me to doubt that.

I bought the set on eBay for less than a song. Bottles of both the EdT and the parfum can still be found there on occasion. Some e-tailers who specialize in rare perfumes offer a 0.25 oz of parfum for about $150. I don't think it's worth it, unless this is your long lost holy grail.

Image: http://www.toutenparfum.com/ . My set looks just like the one pictured.

The Lost (And Totally Forgotten) Perfumes: Via Lanvin

Since the house of Lanvin is desecrating the memory of its founder, Jeanne Lanvin, by launching a pink fruity floral (blackberry, citruses, pear, peony, freesia, raspberry, sandalwood, amber and musk) and naming it after her*, I thought it was a good time to remember a discontinued perfume from this house, even if it's one that was created years after Madame Lanvin's death: Via Lanvin.

Via Lanvin was launched in 1971 and discontinued in 1984 (according to Basenotes). The 70s, to me, are the years of Charlie (1973), an assertive green-floral-powder little thing that took over the world. There was a point in that decade that the only way not to have a bottle was to be Amish. That was the reality and the market in which Via had to compete. It's also a powdery green floral, but it feels soft and very French. I couldn't find a Lanvin ad for Via (maybe it was the lack of marketing that killed this perfume), but I'm pretty sure it couldn't have been promoted by photos of women in pantsuits or a woman patting a male co-worker's butt. It's not that kind of scent.

I scored a sealed set of Via EdT and parfum. The first time I opened and tried it, it smelled quite fresh, other than a few seconds of stale aldehydes. I liked the elegant greens and the sweetness that followed. The floral heart feels very classic, which is probably what I recognize as "French": LotV, jasmine, orris and rose seemed to be everywhere. I think I like wearing Via because of the carnation note. Carnation and I seem to do well together.

My favorite part is the drydown. There's a moment where the vetiver emerges, and it's dry and fiery, almost smokey. It's more pronounced in the EdT, while the parfum is smoother and a bit muted. I wish there was more of this note before it burns into sweet powder. I also wish the lasting power was more impressive. As it is, I need to bathe in the juice to make it live long enough so I can fully enjoy it.

From the 1984 H&R Fragrance Guide, Feminine Notes:
Via Lanvin (1971) - Sweet Floral
Top Note: leafy green, bergamot, aldehyde, violet, lemon - green flowery
Mid note: lily of the valley, jasmine, orris, carnation, rose, ylang-ylang, narcissus - green floral
Base note: vetiver, cedar, sandalwood, musk, amber, moss - woody powdery

* Robin of NST is quoting a CosmeticsNews article, which originally stated that the house's brilliant designer, Alber Elbaz, was deeply involved in the perfume's creation. Allow me to doubt that.

I bought the set on eBay for less than a song. Bottles of both the EdT and the parfum can still be found there on occasion. Some e-tailers who specialize in rare perfumes offer a 0.25 oz of parfum for about $150. I don't think it's worth it, unless this is your long lost holy grail.

Image: http://www.toutenparfum.com/ . My set looks just like the one pictured.

Lush Therapy Massage Bar

This chunk of solid body butter has recently become my favorite pelt softening item (for now. One doesn't become a beauty blogger without being promiscuous when it comes to products). Basically, this is cocoa butter with lavender and neroli oil, which means that the bar does a wonderful job moisturizing while smelling better than most Lush products I've ever tried.

They claim that it's good for scars and stretch marks, which is an attribute of cocoa butter, but I don't have any of the latter to test it, and my scars are still very much there after several weeks of use, so that's not why I'm so in love with this little bar. It's the way my legs and arms look and feel: like those of a normal person who has never resembled an exotic handbag in her life.

Since this is summer and a buttery feeling is not what I'm after when crossing my legs, I use a generous dose of Silky Underwear powder, which also helps with feeling smooth. I keep my bar in the little tin Lush offer (it's free if you buy two bars), so it stays clean and doesn't disintegrate prematurely. It's also very travel friendly.

I tried (in store) several of the other bars, but this is the one that smelled best, not that the scent lingers enough to matter. The one bar I'd recommend you avoid (unless you're 16 or under) is the one with the shimmer. It's just too much.

Lush products are available online and in their stores, which is where I bought my bars. The tin was a GWP.

Lush Therapy Massage Bar

This chunk of solid body butter has recently become my favorite pelt softening item (for now. One doesn't become a beauty blogger without being promiscuous when it comes to products). Basically, this is cocoa butter with lavender and neroli oil, which means that the bar does a wonderful job moisturizing while smelling better than most Lush products I've ever tried.

They claim that it's good for scars and stretch marks, which is an attribute of cocoa butter, but I don't have any of the latter to test it, and my scars are still very much there after several weeks of use, so that's not why I'm so in love with this little bar. It's the way my legs and arms look and feel: like those of a normal person who has never resembled an exotic handbag in her life.

Since this is summer and a buttery feeling is not what I'm after when crossing my legs, I use a generous dose of Silky Underwear powder, which also helps with feeling smooth. I keep my bar in the little tin Lush offer (it's free if you buy two bars), so it stays clean and doesn't disintegrate prematurely. It's also very travel friendly.

I tried (in store) several of the other bars, but this is the one that smelled best, not that the scent lingers enough to matter. The one bar I'd recommend you avoid (unless you're 16 or under) is the one with the shimmer. It's just too much.

Lush products are available online and in their stores, which is where I bought my bars. The tin was a GWP.

Lush Therapy Massage Bar

This chunk of solid body butter has recently become my favorite pelt softening item (for now. One doesn't become a beauty blogger without being promiscuous when it comes to products). Basically, this is cocoa butter with lavender and neroli oil, which means that the bar does a wonderful job moisturizing while smelling better than most Lush products I've ever tried.

They claim that it's good for scars and stretch marks, which is an attribute of cocoa butter, but I don't have any of the latter to test it, and my scars are still very much there after several weeks of use, so that's not why I'm so in love with this little bar. It's the way my legs and arms look and feel: like those of a normal person who has never resembled an exotic handbag in her life.

Since this is summer and a buttery feeling is not what I'm after when crossing my legs, I use a generous dose of Silky Underwear powder, which also helps with feeling smooth. I keep my bar in the little tin Lush offer (it's free if you buy two bars), so it stays clean and doesn't disintegrate prematurely. It's also very travel friendly.

I tried (in store) several of the other bars, but this is the one that smelled best, not that the scent lingers enough to matter. The one bar I'd recommend you avoid (unless you're 16 or under) is the one with the shimmer. It's just too much.

Lush products are available online and in their stores, which is where I bought my bars. The tin was a GWP.

For The Love Of Feet- Taryn Rose Sandals

Forget ballet flats.

I mean, really, forget them.

Yes, I know they're cute for as long as you can erase the mental image of Amy Winehouse in her ratty, blood-stained ones. And I know that J. Crew make them in very nice prints. But in reality, if you have flat feet, a shoe that doesn't have enough of a sole for shock absorbency is a ticket to painville. And, from what I hear from my friends who were blessed with a nice ballerina arch, they require some serious support, too.

Personally, my flat feet and I are much more comfortable in well-made high heels. There's a reason Sarah Jessica Parker was wearing Manolos all over the city when she was nine months pregnant with her son. I consider his mary-janes an orthopedic shoe. They are that comfortable.

I only make one exception. Not only are my hooves ridiculously flat, but also heat sensitive. No matter how comfortable the shoe, if I'm walking for an extended amount of time and the weather is balmy, things get ugly fast and we're getting into blisterland.

A few years ago I attempted to walk all over Paris in a pair of stylish ballet flats. They were quite nice, bought from Sacco, who make pretty and comfortable shoes. By the end of the day I was considering amputation, and spent the rest of the trip wearing my trusty J. Crew wedge flip-flops. Elegant it was not, and I beg forgiveness from all the French people reading this, since I wore these non-shoes everywhere, from Gallerie Lafayette to the Musee d'Orsay (I change into high heels when going out for dinner, though).

Now, I think I can retire the flip-flops. These Taryn Rose sandals are named Tyra, but I'll ask you to ignore the name and have a look. They are amazingly comfortable while still cute, have a thick, absorbent sole and don't chaff my skin. Even the thong part is soft and easy on the area between the toes. and French people will no longer have a reason to throw things at me.

Taryn Rose sandals are available from Saks and Neiman's, but I bought mine online from Zappos, where they are significantly cheaper.

For The Love Of Feet- Taryn Rose Sandals

Forget ballet flats.

I mean, really, forget them.

Yes, I know they're cute for as long as you can erase the mental image of Amy Winehouse in her ratty, blood-stained ones. And I know that J. Crew make them in very nice prints. But in reality, if you have flat feet, a shoe that doesn't have enough of a sole for shock absorbency is a ticket to painville. And, from what I hear from my friends who were blessed with a nice ballerina arch, they require some serious support, too.

Personally, my flat feet and I are much more comfortable in well-made high heels. There's a reason Sarah Jessica Parker was wearing Manolos all over the city when she was nine months pregnant with her son. I consider his mary-janes an orthopedic shoe. They are that comfortable.

I only make one exception. Not only are my hooves ridiculously flat, but also heat sensitive. No matter how comfortable the shoe, if I'm walking for an extended amount of time and the weather is balmy, things get ugly fast and we're getting into blisterland.

A few years ago I attempted to walk all over Paris in a pair of stylish ballet flats. They were quite nice, bought from Sacco, who make pretty and comfortable shoes. By the end of the day I was considering amputation, and spent the rest of the trip wearing my trusty J. Crew wedge flip-flops. Elegant it was not, and I beg forgiveness from all the French people reading this, since I wore these non-shoes everywhere, from Gallerie Lafayette to the Musee d'Orsay (I change into high heels when going out for dinner, though).

Now, I think I can retire the flip-flops. These Taryn Rose sandals are named Tyra, but I'll ask you to ignore the name and have a look. They are amazingly comfortable while still cute, have a thick, absorbent sole and don't chaff my skin. Even the thong part is soft and easy on the area between the toes. and French people will no longer have a reason to throw things at me.

Taryn Rose sandals are available from Saks and Neiman's, but I bought mine online from Zappos, where they are significantly cheaper.

For The Love Of Feet- Taryn Rose Sandals

Forget ballet flats.

I mean, really, forget them.

Yes, I know they're cute for as long as you can erase the mental image of Amy Winehouse in her ratty, blood-stained ones. And I know that J. Crew make them in very nice prints. But in reality, if you have flat feet, a shoe that doesn't have enough of a sole for shock absorbency is a ticket to painville. And, from what I hear from my friends who were blessed with a nice ballerina arch, they require some serious support, too.

Personally, my flat feet and I are much more comfortable in well-made high heels. There's a reason Sarah Jessica Parker was wearing Manolos all over the city when she was nine months pregnant with her son. I consider his mary-janes an orthopedic shoe. They are that comfortable.

I only make one exception. Not only are my hooves ridiculously flat, but also heat sensitive. No matter how comfortable the shoe, if I'm walking for an extended amount of time and the weather is balmy, things get ugly fast and we're getting into blisterland.

A few years ago I attempted to walk all over Paris in a pair of stylish ballet flats. They were quite nice, bought from Sacco, who make pretty and comfortable shoes. By the end of the day I was considering amputation, and spent the rest of the trip wearing my trusty J. Crew wedge flip-flops. Elegant it was not, and I beg forgiveness from all the French people reading this, since I wore these non-shoes everywhere, from Gallerie Lafayette to the Musee d'Orsay (I change into high heels when going out for dinner, though).

Now, I think I can retire the flip-flops. These Taryn Rose sandals are named Tyra, but I'll ask you to ignore the name and have a look. They are amazingly comfortable while still cute, have a thick, absorbent sole and don't chaff my skin. Even the thong part is soft and easy on the area between the toes. and French people will no longer have a reason to throw things at me.

Taryn Rose sandals are available from Saks and Neiman's, but I bought mine online from Zappos, where they are significantly cheaper.

Chypre On The Beach- Pucci Vivara (1965)

Beach fragrances are not what they used to be. The idea today is of something light with notes of Coppertone, Hawaiian Tropic and a side of coconut. But once upon a time, you could have put on a summer fragrance that had the power to transform you into a jet-setter on her way to the Italian Riviera.

Case in point, the original Vivara by Emilio Pucci (the new version is a harmless but forgettable juice in a gorgeous bottle, and has very little in common with the 1965 scent, commissioned by the Marchese himself). This is another lost perfume, discontinued ages ago, but can still be found here and there, mostly on eBay. I managed to find a department store-sealed package of the parfum.

The first thing that hits you on your head is the vintagey aldehydic remains of the top notes, and this little kick to the nose that announces the presence of a chypre. It smells dated and decidedly un-beachy, but not bad, especially if you have a thing for vintage scents. Still, it took me a while (and several tries) to learn to find the green notes and enjoy them.

Once the aldehydes go away, things get interesting. The development is all over the place. There are flowers, especially a peppery rose, in this classical heart of jasmine, ylang, rose, carnation and lily of the valley. Still, there's a touch of bushy, dusty Mediterranean greens that doesn't completely go away and keeps it from turning into a naughtier (vintage) Caleche. What I like best here is that Vivara never goes the soapy way. The drydown is much sweeter than I'd expected: while the oakmoss is there and tinged with patchouli, what I get in spades is benzoin, which makes it slightly addictive and more easily wearable, and perhaps a touch of dry, salty leather, that tames the sweetness and keeps it interesting.

I'm not sure if it's the bottle's age or the parfum concentration, but the sillage is very minimal. If you apply enough (read: practically marinate in it), you'll get hours of wear and will be able to enjoy every part of the development.. This is a lovely scent for serious chypre lovers. I'm happy to have it in my collection and wear it occasionally, but not sure I'd feel as compelled to own it had it been readily available and not a Pucci.

Still, it's more than just a perfume for a bikini. I think a pair of white jeans, a Pucci halter top and aviator shades would go nicely with the concept.

Images: perfume ads from Okadi, photo of Viareggio, one of my favorite places in the world, from Villa Rosa.

Chypre On The Beach- Pucci Vivara (1965)

Beach fragrances are not what they used to be. The idea today is of something light with notes of Coppertone, Hawaiian Tropic and a side of coconut. But once upon a time, you could have put on a summer fragrance that had the power to transform you into a jet-setter on her way to the Italian Riviera.

Case in point, the original Vivara by Emilio Pucci (the new version is a harmless but forgettable juice in a gorgeous bottle, and has very little in common with the 1965 scent, commissioned by the Marchese himself). This is another lost perfume, discontinued ages ago, but can still be found here and there, mostly on eBay. I managed to find a department store-sealed package of the parfum.

The first thing that hits you on your head is the vintagey aldehydic remains of the top notes, and this little kick to the nose that announces the presence of a chypre. It smells dated and decidedly un-beachy, but not bad, especially if you have a thing for vintage scents. Still, it took me a while (and several tries) to learn to find the green notes and enjoy them.

Once the aldehydes go away, things get interesting. The development is all over the place. There are flowers, especially a peppery rose, in this classical heart of jasmine, ylang, rose, carnation and lily of the valley. Still, there's a touch of bushy, dusty Mediterranean greens that doesn't completely go away and keeps it from turning into a naughtier (vintage) Caleche. What I like best here is that Vivara never goes the soapy way. The drydown is much sweeter than I'd expected: while the oakmoss is there and tinged with patchouli, what I get in spades is benzoin, which makes it slightly addictive and more easily wearable, and perhaps a touch of dry, salty leather, that tames the sweetness and keeps it interesting.

I'm not sure if it's the bottle's age or the parfum concentration, but the sillage is very minimal. If you apply enough (read: practically marinate in it), you'll get hours of wear and will be able to enjoy every part of the development.. This is a lovely scent for serious chypre lovers. I'm happy to have it in my collection and wear it occasionally, but not sure I'd feel as compelled to own it had it been readily available and not a Pucci.

Still, it's more than just a perfume for a bikini. I think a pair of white jeans, a Pucci halter top and aviator shades would go nicely with the concept.

Images: perfume ads from Okadi, photo of Viareggio, one of my favorite places in the world, from Villa Rosa.

Chypre On The Beach- Pucci Vivara (1965)

Beach fragrances are not what they used to be. The idea today is of something light with notes of Coppertone, Hawaiian Tropic and a side of coconut. But once upon a time, you could have put on a summer fragrance that had the power to transform you into a jet-setter on her way to the Italian Riviera.

Case in point, the original Vivara by Emilio Pucci (the new version is a harmless but forgettable juice in a gorgeous bottle, and has very little in common with the 1965 scent, commissioned by the Marchese himself). This is another lost perfume, discontinued ages ago, but can still be found here and there, mostly on eBay. I managed to find a department store-sealed package of the parfum.

The first thing that hits you on your head is the vintagey aldehydic remains of the top notes, and this little kick to the nose that announces the presence of a chypre. It smells dated and decidedly un-beachy, but not bad, especially if you have a thing for vintage scents. Still, it took me a while (and several tries) to learn to find the green notes and enjoy them.

Once the aldehydes go away, things get interesting. The development is all over the place. There are flowers, especially a peppery rose, in this classical heart of jasmine, ylang, rose, carnation and lily of the valley. Still, there's a touch of bushy, dusty Mediterranean greens that doesn't completely go away and keeps it from turning into a naughtier (vintage) Caleche. What I like best here is that Vivara never goes the soapy way. The drydown is much sweeter than I'd expected: while the oakmoss is there and tinged with patchouli, what I get in spades is benzoin, which makes it slightly addictive and more easily wearable, and perhaps a touch of dry, salty leather, that tames the sweetness and keeps it interesting.

I'm not sure if it's the bottle's age or the parfum concentration, but the sillage is very minimal. If you apply enough (read: practically marinate in it), you'll get hours of wear and will be able to enjoy every part of the development.. This is a lovely scent for serious chypre lovers. I'm happy to have it in my collection and wear it occasionally, but not sure I'd feel as compelled to own it had it been readily available and not a Pucci.

Still, it's more than just a perfume for a bikini. I think a pair of white jeans, a Pucci halter top and aviator shades would go nicely with the concept.

Images: perfume ads from Okadi, photo of Viareggio, one of my favorite places in the world, from Villa Rosa.

Reconsidering Summer: Bobbi Brown Beach Body Oil

I buy the weirdest things in the dead of winter. That's the only way I can explain the bottle of Bobbi Brown Beach body oil in my possession. Actually, it almost makes sense if you consider the gloomy weather and the dry skin. A product that promises to make you smell summer and solve that cuir de crocodile problem sounds like the best thing ever.

The only problem was that it didn't work. At least not back in December.

My first issue was the scent. It's my fault, considering I knew exactly what to expect and still bought it. I grew up with the European ideas of what a perfume should and shouldn't be, and this little creature that smells of suntan lotion and sunny sand falls strictly into the "shouldn't be" category. I have friends and readers across the Atlantic and I can't for a moment imagine any of them smelling this with approval. I didn't approve, either.

The second issue was with the oil itself, that seemed to just sit there and not do much to improve the scary look of my legs. I had to recheck the ingredient list twice to make sure it really listed all that good stuff, oils of olive, sesame, avocado and jojoba. While it sank in enough as to not make my legs look and feel oily, it still acted more as barrier and less as skin nourishment. I put the bottle away after a couple of tries.

A few weeks ago I dug it out and started applying it again. The scent hasn't changed, but it makes more sense in a summery context. I'd never buy the actual perfume from this line (or any other beachy fragrance), but it's pleasant enough for the few minutes it's still detectable. It could have been another one by Philosophy, maybe one named "Summer Grace". There are some muted, washed flowers, sun and ocean bleached woods and a very soft, clean musk drydown, if you can even call it that. It doesn't remind me of the colorful Jersey Shore and won't make you start singing "Under the Boardwalk". It's not even nostalgic for me, as a beach scent reminiscent of my childhood would have to be more salty and have notes of French fries and sticky, synthetic orange juice. I'm not sure I want to re-smell any of that.

As for performance, apparently the oil needs more time to do its thing. First application didn't differ much than what I remembered from last year. However, since I had it on all day and didn't wash it off in the first couple of hours, I noticed that eventually my skin has begun to accept the oil. The next day started with legs that weren't so dry, and the oil sunk in quicker and seemed to do a better job faster. The same happened in the following days.

Since the scent disappears quickly and I only apply it to my legs and (maybe) lower arms, it's not a factor in fragrance choice and doesn't require more consideration when layering than your average soap. I'd avoid it on sticky humid days, because once your legs are no longer at the scary stage of dryness, there is some residue which is the last thing you want to feel on a hazy summer.

Beach by Bobbi Brown products can be found at most decent department stores (Macy's isn't one) or from the company's website, which is where I bought my bottle ($28).

Image: Anne Packard: At the beach, from Vinnings Gallery.

Reconsidering Summer: Bobbi Brown Beach Body Oil

I buy the weirdest things in the dead of winter. That's the only way I can explain the bottle of Bobbi Brown Beach body oil in my possession. Actually, it almost makes sense if you consider the gloomy weather and the dry skin. A product that promises to make you smell summer and solve that cuir de crocodile problem sounds like the best thing ever.

The only problem was that it didn't work. At least not back in December.

My first issue was the scent. It's my fault, considering I knew exactly what to expect and still bought it. I grew up with the European ideas of what a perfume should and shouldn't be, and this little creature that smells of suntan lotion and sunny sand falls strictly into the "shouldn't be" category. I have friends and readers across the Atlantic and I can't for a moment imagine any of them smelling this with approval. I didn't approve, either.

The second issue was with the oil itself, that seemed to just sit there and not do much to improve the scary look of my legs. I had to recheck the ingredient list twice to make sure it really listed all that good stuff, oils of olive, sesame, avocado and jojoba. While it sank in enough as to not make my legs look and feel oily, it still acted more as barrier and less as skin nourishment. I put the bottle away after a couple of tries.

A few weeks ago I dug it out and started applying it again. The scent hasn't changed, but it makes more sense in a summery context. I'd never buy the actual perfume from this line (or any other beachy fragrance), but it's pleasant enough for the few minutes it's still detectable. It could have been another one by Philosophy, maybe one named "Summer Grace". There are some muted, washed flowers, sun and ocean bleached woods and a very soft, clean musk drydown, if you can even call it that. It doesn't remind me of the colorful Jersey Shore and won't make you start singing "Under the Boardwalk". It's not even nostalgic for me, as a beach scent reminiscent of my childhood would have to be more salty and have notes of French fries and sticky, synthetic orange juice. I'm not sure I want to re-smell any of that.

As for performance, apparently the oil needs more time to do its thing. First application didn't differ much than what I remembered from last year. However, since I had it on all day and didn't wash it off in the first couple of hours, I noticed that eventually my skin has begun to accept the oil. The next day started with legs that weren't so dry, and the oil sunk in quicker and seemed to do a better job faster. The same happened in the following days.

Since the scent disappears quickly and I only apply it to my legs and (maybe) lower arms, it's not a factor in fragrance choice and doesn't require more consideration when layering than your average soap. I'd avoid it on sticky humid days, because once your legs are no longer at the scary stage of dryness, there is some residue which is the last thing you want to feel on a hazy summer.

Beach by Bobbi Brown products can be found at most decent department stores (Macy's isn't one) or from the company's website, which is where I bought my bottle ($28).

Image: Anne Packard: At the beach, from Vinnings Gallery.

Reconsidering Summer: Bobbi Brown Beach Body Oil

I buy the weirdest things in the dead of winter. That's the only way I can explain the bottle of Bobbi Brown Beach body oil in my possession. Actually, it almost makes sense if you consider the gloomy weather and the dry skin. A product that promises to make you smell summer and solve that cuir de crocodile problem sounds like the best thing ever.

The only problem was that it didn't work. At least not back in December.

My first issue was the scent. It's my fault, considering I knew exactly what to expect and still bought it. I grew up with the European ideas of what a perfume should and shouldn't be, and this little creature that smells of suntan lotion and sunny sand falls strictly into the "shouldn't be" category. I have friends and readers across the Atlantic and I can't for a moment imagine any of them smelling this with approval. I didn't approve, either.

The second issue was with the oil itself, that seemed to just sit there and not do much to improve the scary look of my legs. I had to recheck the ingredient list twice to make sure it really listed all that good stuff, oils of olive, sesame, avocado and jojoba. While it sank in enough as to not make my legs look and feel oily, it still acted more as barrier and less as skin nourishment. I put the bottle away after a couple of tries.

A few weeks ago I dug it out and started applying it again. The scent hasn't changed, but it makes more sense in a summery context. I'd never buy the actual perfume from this line (or any other beachy fragrance), but it's pleasant enough for the few minutes it's still detectable. It could have been another one by Philosophy, maybe one named "Summer Grace". There are some muted, washed flowers, sun and ocean bleached woods and a very soft, clean musk drydown, if you can even call it that. It doesn't remind me of the colorful Jersey Shore and won't make you start singing "Under the Boardwalk". It's not even nostalgic for me, as a beach scent reminiscent of my childhood would have to be more salty and have notes of French fries and sticky, synthetic orange juice. I'm not sure I want to re-smell any of that.

As for performance, apparently the oil needs more time to do its thing. First application didn't differ much than what I remembered from last year. However, since I had it on all day and didn't wash it off in the first couple of hours, I noticed that eventually my skin has begun to accept the oil. The next day started with legs that weren't so dry, and the oil sunk in quicker and seemed to do a better job faster. The same happened in the following days.

Since the scent disappears quickly and I only apply it to my legs and (maybe) lower arms, it's not a factor in fragrance choice and doesn't require more consideration when layering than your average soap. I'd avoid it on sticky humid days, because once your legs are no longer at the scary stage of dryness, there is some residue which is the last thing you want to feel on a hazy summer.

Beach by Bobbi Brown products can be found at most decent department stores (Macy's isn't one) or from the company's website, which is where I bought my bottle ($28).

Image: Anne Packard: At the beach, from Vinnings Gallery.

Velvet Veil Makeup Primer by Face Time

I got married by the sea, on a hot and humid summer night in 1996. I can't say I remember much of the actual event (people said it was lovely and the photos confirm), but I do know that my makeup could have used some help in the staying-in-place department. No one heard of primers back then, so it was all about using a good powder and hoping for the best.

Velvet Veil is the product I wish existed back then, because it performs amazingly well. I tested it against the elements: wind, pouring rain and a sweaty day. Nothing moved and it kept every foundation I tried fresh, and only required minimal powdering.

This is a silicone primer and the texture is thicker than the famous one from Smashbox. It's also more opaque, though once applied you see nothing. I like it for the way it keeps my face fresh all day, but I have a serious problem with its heaviness. I don't like the way my skin looks after wearing it for days (or the way I felt after 10 days of testing). It looks like my skin couldn't breath underneath the primer, though I'm sure there's a better explanation. Also, while I can't be completely certain the Velvet Veil is the culprit, I experienced some seriously clogged pores and a couple of zits I could have happily lived without. While it doesn't happen when I only use it occasionally, my skin definitely suffers if I make this primer part of my normal routine.

So, bottom line: a fabulous primer, but my skin isn't happy to encounter it on a regular basis. I'm keeping my bottle, but would only use it for special occasions that require heavy duty products with exceptional staying power.

Velvet Veil ($22) and the rest of Face Time products are only available online from the company's web site. That's how I bought my bottle.

Velvet Veil Makeup Primer by Face Time

I got married by the sea, on a hot and humid summer night in 1996. I can't say I remember much of the actual event (people said it was lovely and the photos confirm), but I do know that my makeup could have used some help in the staying-in-place department. No one heard of primers back then, so it was all about using a good powder and hoping for the best.

Velvet Veil is the product I wish existed back then, because it performs amazingly well. I tested it against the elements: wind, pouring rain and a sweaty day. Nothing moved and it kept every foundation I tried fresh, and only required minimal powdering.

This is a silicone primer and the texture is thicker than the famous one from Smashbox. It's also more opaque, though once applied you see nothing. I like it for the way it keeps my face fresh all day, but I have a serious problem with its heaviness. I don't like the way my skin looks after wearing it for days (or the way I felt after 10 days of testing). It looks like my skin couldn't breath underneath the primer, though I'm sure there's a better explanation. Also, while I can't be completely certain the Velvet Veil is the culprit, I experienced some seriously clogged pores and a couple of zits I could have happily lived without. While it doesn't happen when I only use it occasionally, my skin definitely suffers if I make this primer part of my normal routine.

So, bottom line: a fabulous primer, but my skin isn't happy to encounter it on a regular basis. I'm keeping my bottle, but would only use it for special occasions that require heavy duty products with exceptional staying power.

Velvet Veil ($22) and the rest of Face Time products are only available online from the company's web site. That's how I bought my bottle.

Velvet Veil Makeup Primer by Face Time

I got married by the sea, on a hot and humid summer night in 1996. I can't say I remember much of the actual event (people said it was lovely and the photos confirm), but I do know that my makeup could have used some help in the staying-in-place department. No one heard of primers back then, so it was all about using a good powder and hoping for the best.

Velvet Veil is the product I wish existed back then, because it performs amazingly well. I tested it against the elements: wind, pouring rain and a sweaty day. Nothing moved and it kept every foundation I tried fresh, and only required minimal powdering.

This is a silicone primer and the texture is thicker than the famous one from Smashbox. It's also more opaque, though once applied you see nothing. I like it for the way it keeps my face fresh all day, but I have a serious problem with its heaviness. I don't like the way my skin looks after wearing it for days (or the way I felt after 10 days of testing). It looks like my skin couldn't breath underneath the primer, though I'm sure there's a better explanation. Also, while I can't be completely certain the Velvet Veil is the culprit, I experienced some seriously clogged pores and a couple of zits I could have happily lived without. While it doesn't happen when I only use it occasionally, my skin definitely suffers if I make this primer part of my normal routine.

So, bottom line: a fabulous primer, but my skin isn't happy to encounter it on a regular basis. I'm keeping my bottle, but would only use it for special occasions that require heavy duty products with exceptional staying power.

Velvet Veil ($22) and the rest of Face Time products are only available online from the company's web site. That's how I bought my bottle.

What I Smelled, What I Couldn't Smell (and the winner of Kiki)

1. What I smelled (and wished I hadn't): Arabie by Serge Lutens
In theory, I should have loved Arabie. It has spices by the buckets, Mediterranean dried fruits (dates and figs, my favorites), sandalwood, myrrh and benzoin. It practically has my name written all over it. But this just comes to remind us how note lists are only suggestions and give no guarantees as to what happens on skin, and more important in this case, how the mind interprets the scent. Basically, this is the smell of an Arab market. The Lutens-Sheldrake has completely captured its essence. Arabie is an exotic journey to faraway lands, and in that sense it's a winner.

The problem? I hate it.

Hate is a strong word and maybe I shouldn't use it, but the effect Arabie has on me is so suffocating that I just can't stand it. I've been to these kind of markets and the scent is scarily authentic. It feels like I'm standing in the middle of a spice shop, sacks and containers of the most potent stuff around me, the air is hot and it's getting hard to breath. And the biggest problem is that all the smells of the souk mix together and I know that the next alley host the fish stores. While I can't smell it here, of course, I just know it's there, and I want to run away. Or scrub myself raw (and the last time I tried it on I forced myself to keep it on till the bitter end. While it softened and became more honeyed, the souk was still there).

2. What I couldn't smell (and wish I could): Escentric Molecules- Escentric 02 and Molecule 02
There's a lot of press material and discussion of the scents, the house and the creator, but I won't go into this for one simple reason: I can't smell a thing. The Molecule one starts with nothing at all, then there's something soft and far away, then nothing. The Escentric starts like rubbing alcohol and within 10 seconds disappears and leaves my anosmic nose frustrated and empty.
I already knew I was anosmic to some musks, so the latter is not really shocking. But Molecule is supposed to be centered around the scent molecule found in ambergris, a note I can usually smell just fine, be it rare and real or its more common substitute. I have no idea what's up with that, but I wish I could smell these two.
* The Blond can't smell them, either.

3. The winner of a nice sample of Kiki by Vero Kern is Jenna. Please email me your address.

Arabie ($120) is available from all the usual suspects who sell the Serge exports. My original sample came with other purchase from Aedes, though my last (ever) testing was at a Blue Mercury store. Escentric Molecules scents are sold both in Aedes and in Scent Bar (Luckyscent) in L.A. and cost $140 a bottle. I might as well spray myself in Pelegrino. My samples of both EM scents were a PR freebie.

Image: Understood by Thomas C. Fedro

What I Smelled, What I Couldn't Smell (and the winner of Kiki)

1. What I smelled (and wished I hadn't): Arabie by Serge Lutens
In theory, I should have loved Arabie. It has spices by the buckets, Mediterranean dried fruits (dates and figs, my favorites), sandalwood, myrrh and benzoin. It practically has my name written all over it. But this just comes to remind us how note lists are only suggestions and give no guarantees as to what happens on skin, and more important in this case, how the mind interprets the scent. Basically, this is the smell of an Arab market. The Lutens-Sheldrake has completely captured its essence. Arabie is an exotic journey to faraway lands, and in that sense it's a winner.

The problem? I hate it.

Hate is a strong word and maybe I shouldn't use it, but the effect Arabie has on me is so suffocating that I just can't stand it. I've been to these kind of markets and the scent is scarily authentic. It feels like I'm standing in the middle of a spice shop, sacks and containers of the most potent stuff around me, the air is hot and it's getting hard to breath. And the biggest problem is that all the smells of the souk mix together and I know that the next alley host the fish stores. While I can't smell it here, of course, I just know it's there, and I want to run away. Or scrub myself raw (and the last time I tried it on I forced myself to keep it on till the bitter end. While it softened and became more honeyed, the souk was still there).

2. What I couldn't smell (and wish I could): Escentric Molecules- Escentric 02 and Molecule 02
There's a lot of press material and discussion of the scents, the house and the creator, but I won't go into this for one simple reason: I can't smell a thing. The Molecule one starts with nothing at all, then there's something soft and far away, then nothing. The Escentric starts like rubbing alcohol and within 10 seconds disappears and leaves my anosmic nose frustrated and empty.
I already knew I was anosmic to some musks, so the latter is not really shocking. But Molecule is supposed to be centered around the scent molecule found in ambergris, a note I can usually smell just fine, be it rare and real or its more common substitute. I have no idea what's up with that, but I wish I could smell these two.
* The Blond can't smell them, either.

3. The winner of a nice sample of Kiki by Vero Kern is Jenna. Please email me your address.

Arabie ($120) is available from all the usual suspects who sell the Serge exports. My original sample came with other purchase from Aedes, though my last (ever) testing was at a Blue Mercury store. Escentric Molecules scents are sold both in Aedes and in Scent Bar (Luckyscent) in L.A. and cost $140 a bottle. I might as well spray myself in Pelegrino. My samples of both EM scents were a PR freebie.

Image: Understood by Thomas C. Fedro

What I Smelled, What I Couldn't Smell (and the winner of Kiki)

1. What I smelled (and wished I hadn't): Arabie by Serge Lutens
In theory, I should have loved Arabie. It has spices by the buckets, Mediterranean dried fruits (dates and figs, my favorites), sandalwood, myrrh and benzoin. It practically has my name written all over it. But this just comes to remind us how note lists are only suggestions and give no guarantees as to what happens on skin, and more important in this case, how the mind interprets the scent. Basically, this is the smell of an Arab market. The Lutens-Sheldrake has completely captured its essence. Arabie is an exotic journey to faraway lands, and in that sense it's a winner.

The problem? I hate it.

Hate is a strong word and maybe I shouldn't use it, but the effect Arabie has on me is so suffocating that I just can't stand it. I've been to these kind of markets and the scent is scarily authentic. It feels like I'm standing in the middle of a spice shop, sacks and containers of the most potent stuff around me, the air is hot and it's getting hard to breath. And the biggest problem is that all the smells of the souk mix together and I know that the next alley host the fish stores. While I can't smell it here, of course, I just know it's there, and I want to run away. Or scrub myself raw (and the last time I tried it on I forced myself to keep it on till the bitter end. While it softened and became more honeyed, the souk was still there).

2. What I couldn't smell (and wish I could): Escentric Molecules- Escentric 02 and Molecule 02
There's a lot of press material and discussion of the scents, the house and the creator, but I won't go into this for one simple reason: I can't smell a thing. The Molecule one starts with nothing at all, then there's something soft and far away, then nothing. The Escentric starts like rubbing alcohol and within 10 seconds disappears and leaves my anosmic nose frustrated and empty.
I already knew I was anosmic to some musks, so the latter is not really shocking. But Molecule is supposed to be centered around the scent molecule found in ambergris, a note I can usually smell just fine, be it rare and real or its more common substitute. I have no idea what's up with that, but I wish I could smell these two.
* The Blond can't smell them, either.

3. The winner of a nice sample of Kiki by Vero Kern is Jenna. Please email me your address.

Arabie ($120) is available from all the usual suspects who sell the Serge exports. My original sample came with other purchase from Aedes, though my last (ever) testing was at a Blue Mercury store. Escentric Molecules scents are sold both in Aedes and in Scent Bar (Luckyscent) in L.A. and cost $140 a bottle. I might as well spray myself in Pelegrino. My samples of both EM scents were a PR freebie.

Image: Understood by Thomas C. Fedro