Ralph Lauren Safari For Women

I bought my first bottle of Safari by Ralph Lauren soon after it came out because I loved his original Lauren. I also liked the romance behind the name- probably because I was thinking about the imagery in Out Of Africa, Robert Redford and that wonderful scene where he washes Meryl Streep's hair. In my teenager mind it was the most romantic thing ever (still do, actually. But to this day there has never been a man brave enough to face my 2.5' of waves and curls). I wanted Safari to evoke just that.

I remember thinking back then that Safari was a little too pretty. I liked it well enough and even finished the bottle (it was the gorgeous lay-down version), but it took me about 15 years to buy another one. Safari didn't smell like it belonged in the early 90s and I wasn't sure how it fit with Lauren's Long Island horsey-set image. It smelled more... French, I guess. The green aldehydic opening, overabundance of flowers and gorgeous chypre base could have easily been a Chanel. Now that I think of it, none of the modern Chanel perfumes from the regular line (not the Exclusifs) has been even half as good as Safari.

I have a few older Safari bottles that are clearly the original formula, including the discontinued parfum. I smell a lot of galbanum and hyacinth which my nearly middle-aged mind translates now as romantic in that heartbreaking, full of longing way. The green and wood notes are dry and crisp and show a lot of elegance and restraint. The patchouli-moss-soft leather base (more pronounced in the parfum) clearly didn't fit in with the early 90s style- it was too perfume-like in an era of non-perfume opposites: you either had to smell like candy (see Angel and all the horrible mall vanilla and fruit body sprays) or like chemical nothingness (someone please slap Issey Miyake for me). Even the bottle- a vintage looking carved glass beauty- didn't belong.

It's no wonder that Safari has disappeared from the shelves that sell the Ralph line. For a while it was hard to find except for occasional appearances at places like TJ Maxx. From quick sniffing and spraying the current version at a couple of the discount outlets it's clear that the formula has changed for the very worse. It's a floral something or other without the galbanum, oakmoss or any of the notes that used to give Safari its  backbone. Despite rumors to the contrary, Safari (or what's left of it) is still in production and can be purchased on Ralph Lauren's American website: $60 for the 2.5oz EDP. The notes are listed there as "An exotic medley of floral and citrus notes gently warmed with the essences of Bourgeons de Cassis, Jasmine Italian and Fleur d'Oranger". I wouldn't bother.

Images:
Safari ads from 1993-1994, couleurparfum.com
Meryl Streep and Robert Redford in Out Of Africa (1985) from ew.com
Verushka in a YSL safari suit by Franko Rubartelli for French Vogue, August 1968

Ralph Lauren Safari For Women

I bought my first bottle of Safari by Ralph Lauren soon after it came out because I loved his original Lauren. I also liked the romance behind the name- probably because I was thinking about the imagery in Out Of Africa, Robert Redford and that wonderful scene where he washes Meryl Streep's hair. In my teenager mind it was the most romantic thing ever (still do, actually. But to this day there has never been a man brave enough to face my 2.5' of waves and curls). I wanted Safari to evoke just that.

I remember thinking back then that Safari was a little too pretty. I liked it well enough and even finished the bottle (it was the gorgeous lay-down version), but it took me about 15 years to buy another one. Safari didn't smell like it belonged in the early 90s and I wasn't sure how it fit with Lauren's Long Island horsey-set image. It smelled more... French, I guess. The green aldehydic opening, overabundance of flowers and gorgeous chypre base could have easily been a Chanel. Now that I think of it, none of the modern Chanel perfumes from the regular line (not the Exclusifs) has been even half as good as Safari.

I have a few older Safari bottles that are clearly the original formula, including the discontinued parfum. I smell a lot of galbanum and hyacinth which my nearly middle-aged mind translates now as romantic in that heartbreaking, full of longing way. The green and wood notes are dry and crisp and show a lot of elegance and restraint. The patchouli-moss-soft leather base (more pronounced in the parfum) clearly didn't fit in with the early 90s style- it was too perfume-like in an era of non-perfume opposites: you either had to smell like candy (see Angel and all the horrible mall vanilla and fruit body sprays) or like chemical nothingness (someone please slap Issey Miyake for me). Even the bottle- a vintage looking carved glass beauty- didn't belong.

It's no wonder that Safari has disappeared from the shelves that sell the Ralph line. For a while it was hard to find except for occasional appearances at places like TJ Maxx. From quick sniffing and spraying the current version at a couple of the discount outlets it's clear that the formula has changed for the very worse. It's a floral something or other without the galbanum, oakmoss or any of the notes that used to give Safari its  backbone. Despite rumors to the contrary, Safari (or what's left of it) is still in production and can be purchased on Ralph Lauren's American website: $60 for the 2.5oz EDP. The notes are listed there as "An exotic medley of floral and citrus notes gently warmed with the essences of Bourgeons de Cassis, Jasmine Italian and Fleur d'Oranger". I wouldn't bother.

Images:
Safari ads from 1993-1994, couleurparfum.com
Meryl Streep and Robert Redford in Out Of Africa (1985) from ew.com
Verushka in a YSL safari suit by Franko Rubartelli for French Vogue, August 1968

Ralph Lauren Safari For Women

I bought my first bottle of Safari by Ralph Lauren soon after it came out because I loved his original Lauren. I also liked the romance behind the name- probably because I was thinking about the imagery in Out Of Africa, Robert Redford and that wonderful scene where he washes Meryl Streep's hair. In my teenager mind it was the most romantic thing ever (still do, actually. But to this day there has never been a man brave enough to face my 2.5' of waves and curls). I wanted Safari to evoke just that.

I remember thinking back then that Safari was a little too pretty. I liked it well enough and even finished the bottle (it was the gorgeous lay-down version), but it took me about 15 years to buy another one. Safari didn't smell like it belonged in the early 90s and I wasn't sure how it fit with Lauren's Long Island horsey-set image. It smelled more... French, I guess. The green aldehydic opening, overabundance of flowers and gorgeous chypre base could have easily been a Chanel. Now that I think of it, none of the modern Chanel perfumes from the regular line (not the Exclusifs) has been even half as good as Safari.

I have a few older Safari bottles that are clearly the original formula, including the discontinued parfum. I smell a lot of galbanum and hyacinth which my nearly middle-aged mind translates now as romantic in that heartbreaking, full of longing way. The green and wood notes are dry and crisp and show a lot of elegance and restraint. The patchouli-moss-soft leather base (more pronounced in the parfum) clearly didn't fit in with the early 90s style- it was too perfume-like in an era of non-perfume opposites: you either had to smell like candy (see Angel and all the horrible mall vanilla and fruit body sprays) or like chemical nothingness (someone please slap Issey Miyake for me). Even the bottle- a vintage looking carved glass beauty- didn't belong.

It's no wonder that Safari has disappeared from the shelves that sell the Ralph line. For a while it was hard to find except for occasional appearances at places like TJ Maxx. From quick sniffing and spraying the current version at a couple of the discount outlets it's clear that the formula has changed for the very worse. It's a floral something or other without the galbanum, oakmoss or any of the notes that used to give Safari its  backbone. Despite rumors to the contrary, Safari (or what's left of it) is still in production and can be purchased on Ralph Lauren's American website: $60 for the 2.5oz EDP. The notes are listed there as "An exotic medley of floral and citrus notes gently warmed with the essences of Bourgeons de Cassis, Jasmine Italian and Fleur d'Oranger". I wouldn't bother.

Images:
Safari ads from 1993-1994, couleurparfum.com
Meryl Streep and Robert Redford in Out Of Africa (1985) from ew.com
Verushka in a YSL safari suit by Franko Rubartelli for French Vogue, August 1968

Ralph Lauren- Polo

There's a reason certain fragrances become classics. Everyone, including their father and my father, has owned Ralph Lauren Polo in the green bottle at some point between 1978 and now. The only surprising thing about this ultimate designer scent is how good it actually is.

The bottle I'm reviewing here is an aftershave splash from 1995 or 1996. It's incredibly strong, full and round for this concentration (basically an even more diluted eau de cologne), but the monstrous sillage and volatile opening calm down within five minutes leaving you (and me) with the core scent which is not as loud as its reputation. I no longer remember how or why my husband got Polo, and I ended up hiding it years ago, mostly because it's a cologne I associate with my dad who wore it excessively throughout the 80s and also later as a default scent every time he couldn't find anything he liked better.

Polo is a very green chypre and is much more elegant and sophisticated than I remembered. My scent memory was all about the pine and lavender, but now I also smell the other greens and a very distinct non-stinky smoky cumin note. There's a touch of a spice rack, but it's more a spice rub than a curry and the almost foody phase is so well blended with the green parts and the wood that it doesn't bother me too much, even if as a vegetarian something there is a bit too meaty for me e for a moment or two.

There's also quite a bit of smoky incense that I absolutely love, a strong-boned and very masculine wood-patchouli base, something a bit honeyed that doesn't take away from the general feel of dryness, and so much glorious oakmoss it makes post-IFRA perfumes and colognes hide their faces in shame.

And that's when it hits you. Once upon a time you could go to Bloomingdale's or to your local perfume store on Main Street and buy beautiful, sophisticated fragrances at a reasonable price. Some came from big names, other from smaller ones, but none of them assumed their customer was an idiot.

If I can have a choice I'd always pick the man wearing Polo out of a crowd of guys wearing Eau de Rinse Cycle Sport Light. And I'd ask to share his bottle.

Polo by Ralph Lauren is available everywhere under the sun in various sizes, concentrations and prices usually under $50. I'd bet good money that whatever is being manufactured these days has been heavily reformulated and is not quite as good as it used to be. My advice is to go into your dad's medicine cabinet and see if he still has some from before 2005. You might find yourself pleasantly surprised.

Vintage Polo ads (I especially love the one from 1979 where Ralph Lauren himself is the face of his creation): couleurparfum.com and vintageadbrowser.com

Ralph Lauren- Polo

There's a reason certain fragrances become classics. Everyone, including their father and my father, has owned Ralph Lauren Polo in the green bottle at some point between 1978 and now. The only surprising thing about this ultimate designer scent is how good it actually is.

The bottle I'm reviewing here is an aftershave splash from 1995 or 1996. It's incredibly strong, full and round for this concentration (basically an even more diluted eau de cologne), but the monstrous sillage and volatile opening calm down within five minutes leaving you (and me) with the core scent which is not as loud as its reputation. I no longer remember how or why my husband got Polo, and I ended up hiding it years ago, mostly because it's a cologne I associate with my dad who wore it excessively throughout the 80s and also later as a default scent every time he couldn't find anything he liked better.

Polo is a very green chypre and is much more elegant and sophisticated than I remembered. My scent memory was all about the pine and lavender, but now I also smell the other greens and a very distinct non-stinky smoky cumin note. There's a touch of a spice rack, but it's more a spice rub than a curry and the almost foody phase is so well blended with the green parts and the wood that it doesn't bother me too much, even if as a vegetarian something there is a bit too meaty for me e for a moment or two.

There's also quite a bit of smoky incense that I absolutely love, a strong-boned and very masculine wood-patchouli base, something a bit honeyed that doesn't take away from the general feel of dryness, and so much glorious oakmoss it makes post-IFRA perfumes and colognes hide their faces in shame.

And that's when it hits you. Once upon a time you could go to Bloomingdale's or to your local perfume store on Main Street and buy beautiful, sophisticated fragrances at a reasonable price. Some came from big names, other from smaller ones, but none of them assumed their customer was an idiot.

If I can have a choice I'd always pick the man wearing Polo out of a crowd of guys wearing Eau de Rinse Cycle Sport Light. And I'd ask to share his bottle.

Polo by Ralph Lauren is available everywhere under the sun in various sizes, concentrations and prices usually under $50. I'd bet good money that whatever is being manufactured these days has been heavily reformulated and is not quite as good as it used to be. My advice is to go into your dad's medicine cabinet and see if he still has some from before 2005. You might find yourself pleasantly surprised.

Vintage Polo ads (I especially love the one from 1979 where Ralph Lauren himself is the face of his creation): couleurparfum.com and vintageadbrowser.com

Ralph Lauren- Polo

There's a reason certain fragrances become classics. Everyone, including their father and my father, has owned Ralph Lauren Polo in the green bottle at some point between 1978 and now. The only surprising thing about this ultimate designer scent is how good it actually is.

The bottle I'm reviewing here is an aftershave splash from 1995 or 1996. It's incredibly strong, full and round for this concentration (basically an even more diluted eau de cologne), but the monstrous sillage and volatile opening calm down within five minutes leaving you (and me) with the core scent which is not as loud as its reputation. I no longer remember how or why my husband got Polo, and I ended up hiding it years ago, mostly because it's a cologne I associate with my dad who wore it excessively throughout the 80s and also later as a default scent every time he couldn't find anything he liked better.

Polo is a very green chypre and is much more elegant and sophisticated than I remembered. My scent memory was all about the pine and lavender, but now I also smell the other greens and a very distinct non-stinky smoky cumin note. There's a touch of a spice rack, but it's more a spice rub than a curry and the almost foody phase is so well blended with the green parts and the wood that it doesn't bother me too much, even if as a vegetarian something there is a bit too meaty for me e for a moment or two.

There's also quite a bit of smoky incense that I absolutely love, a strong-boned and very masculine wood-patchouli base, something a bit honeyed that doesn't take away from the general feel of dryness, and so much glorious oakmoss it makes post-IFRA perfumes and colognes hide their faces in shame.

And that's when it hits you. Once upon a time you could go to Bloomingdale's or to your local perfume store on Main Street and buy beautiful, sophisticated fragrances at a reasonable price. Some came from big names, other from smaller ones, but none of them assumed their customer was an idiot.

If I can have a choice I'd always pick the man wearing Polo out of a crowd of guys wearing Eau de Rinse Cycle Sport Light. And I'd ask to share his bottle.

Polo by Ralph Lauren is available everywhere under the sun in various sizes, concentrations and prices usually under $50. I'd bet good money that whatever is being manufactured these days has been heavily reformulated and is not quite as good as it used to be. My advice is to go into your dad's medicine cabinet and see if he still has some from before 2005. You might find yourself pleasantly surprised.

Vintage Polo ads (I especially love the one from 1979 where Ralph Lauren himself is the face of his creation): couleurparfum.com and vintageadbrowser.com

Ralph Lauren Romance Always Yours

I remember buying a bottle of Ralph Lauren Romance in 1999, shortly after it came out. I was still captivated by all things Lauren (hey, I was young and even Jersey Girls dream of the Hamptons), and since I loved both the original Lauren (pre-mutilation) and the beautiful Safari and have gone through several bottles of both during the previous decade, I felt like I was supposed to love Romance just as much. The problem was that Romance belonged to the new generation of faceless, characterless perfumes that were meant for a new customer, one who wants to smell "clean", whatever that means, and would be horrified were someone to actually notice her scent. As you might have guessed, I wasn't that woman even ten years ago. I could never distinguish any of the specific floral notes and the whole synthetic mess thing didn't work with my skin chemistry any more than it suited my personality. I ended up selling the bottle almost full and never looked back.

Late last year, to commemorate a decade of making people smell like laundry detergent, L'Oréal, who owns the license for Ralph Lauren's name, launched Romance Always Yours. It's a variation on the same theme, an updated sequel, which actually is supposed to add something to the original, instead of the usual flanker MO of using an established name to sell an inferior product. Smelling a magazine insert got me interested to sniff the real thing at Sephora, and I liked it well enough, so when it appeared on one of the discounters' site for the ridiculous price of $22 and some change, I decided to get a bottle.

Romance Always Yours feels to me like someone tried (and mostly succeeded) to fix whatever went wrong with the original concept of Romance. I think it gives the washed-out floral a little character. It's still pink, still not my idea of a grand romance, but it's cute, likeable and wearable, while actually having a point of view.

The official note list makes very little sense. Have a look:

Romance notes:
Sun goddess Rose, Marigold, Yellow Freesia, Ginger, Chamomile Oil, White Violet, Lotus Flower, Musk, Day Lily, Patchouli, Oakmoss

Romance Always Yours notes:
Sun Goddess Rose, Freesia, Ginger, Lotus Flower, White Violet, Musk, Day Lily, Patchouli, Oakmoss

If there's any real oakmoss (in either perfume) it's in such miniscule amount, neither I nor an IFRA bureaucrat can detect it. I can't tell what really changed, added or tweaked, but the end result is that Romance Always Yours smells nice. It's not challenging or inspiring and I just can't see it as very romantic in a soul stirring way. It's a Doris Day scent and not a sultry screen siren, but there's a place for that even in my dramatic wardrobe.

Marina from Perfume Smellin' Things suggests some appropriate occasions to wear Romance Always Yours. Like her, I don't see a meet-the-parents event in my future, so I wear it when weeding my tomatoes.

Ralph Lauren Romance Always Yours

I remember buying a bottle of Ralph Lauren Romance in 1999, shortly after it came out. I was still captivated by all things Lauren (hey, I was young and even Jersey Girls dream of the Hamptons), and since I loved both the original Lauren (pre-mutilation) and the beautiful Safari and have gone through several bottles of both during the previous decade, I felt like I was supposed to love Romance just as much. The problem was that Romance belonged to the new generation of faceless, characterless perfumes that were meant for a new customer, one who wants to smell "clean", whatever that means, and would be horrified were someone to actually notice her scent. As you might have guessed, I wasn't that woman even ten years ago. I could never distinguish any of the specific floral notes and the whole synthetic mess thing didn't work with my skin chemistry any more than it suited my personality. I ended up selling the bottle almost full and never looked back.

Late last year, to commemorate a decade of making people smell like laundry detergent, L'Oréal, who owns the license for Ralph Lauren's name, launched Romance Always Yours. It's a variation on the same theme, an updated sequel, which actually is supposed to add something to the original, instead of the usual flanker MO of using an established name to sell an inferior product. Smelling a magazine insert got me interested to sniff the real thing at Sephora, and I liked it well enough, so when it appeared on one of the discounters' site for the ridiculous price of $22 and some change, I decided to get a bottle.

Romance Always Yours feels to me like someone tried (and mostly succeeded) to fix whatever went wrong with the original concept of Romance. I think it gives the washed-out floral a little character. It's still pink, still not my idea of a grand romance, but it's cute, likeable and wearable, while actually having a point of view.

The official note list makes very little sense. Have a look:

Romance notes:
Sun goddess Rose, Marigold, Yellow Freesia, Ginger, Chamomile Oil, White Violet, Lotus Flower, Musk, Day Lily, Patchouli, Oakmoss

Romance Always Yours notes:
Sun Goddess Rose, Freesia, Ginger, Lotus Flower, White Violet, Musk, Day Lily, Patchouli, Oakmoss

If there's any real oakmoss (in either perfume) it's in such miniscule amount, neither I nor an IFRA bureaucrat can detect it. I can't tell what really changed, added or tweaked, but the end result is that Romance Always Yours smells nice. It's not challenging or inspiring and I just can't see it as very romantic in a soul stirring way. It's a Doris Day scent and not a sultry screen siren, but there's a place for that even in my dramatic wardrobe.

Marina from Perfume Smellin' Things suggests some appropriate occasions to wear Romance Always Yours. Like her, I don't see a meet-the-parents event in my future, so I wear it when weeding my tomatoes.

Ralph Lauren Romance Always Yours

I remember buying a bottle of Ralph Lauren Romance in 1999, shortly after it came out. I was still captivated by all things Lauren (hey, I was young and even Jersey Girls dream of the Hamptons), and since I loved both the original Lauren (pre-mutilation) and the beautiful Safari and have gone through several bottles of both during the previous decade, I felt like I was supposed to love Romance just as much. The problem was that Romance belonged to the new generation of faceless, characterless perfumes that were meant for a new customer, one who wants to smell "clean", whatever that means, and would be horrified were someone to actually notice her scent. As you might have guessed, I wasn't that woman even ten years ago. I could never distinguish any of the specific floral notes and the whole synthetic mess thing didn't work with my skin chemistry any more than it suited my personality. I ended up selling the bottle almost full and never looked back.

Late last year, to commemorate a decade of making people smell like laundry detergent, L'Oréal, who owns the license for Ralph Lauren's name, launched Romance Always Yours. It's a variation on the same theme, an updated sequel, which actually is supposed to add something to the original, instead of the usual flanker MO of using an established name to sell an inferior product. Smelling a magazine insert got me interested to sniff the real thing at Sephora, and I liked it well enough, so when it appeared on one of the discounters' site for the ridiculous price of $22 and some change, I decided to get a bottle.

Romance Always Yours feels to me like someone tried (and mostly succeeded) to fix whatever went wrong with the original concept of Romance. I think it gives the washed-out floral a little character. It's still pink, still not my idea of a grand romance, but it's cute, likeable and wearable, while actually having a point of view.

The official note list makes very little sense. Have a look:

Romance notes:
Sun goddess Rose, Marigold, Yellow Freesia, Ginger, Chamomile Oil, White Violet, Lotus Flower, Musk, Day Lily, Patchouli, Oakmoss

Romance Always Yours notes:
Sun Goddess Rose, Freesia, Ginger, Lotus Flower, White Violet, Musk, Day Lily, Patchouli, Oakmoss

If there's any real oakmoss (in either perfume) it's in such miniscule amount, neither I nor an IFRA bureaucrat can detect it. I can't tell what really changed, added or tweaked, but the end result is that Romance Always Yours smells nice. It's not challenging or inspiring and I just can't see it as very romantic in a soul stirring way. It's a Doris Day scent and not a sultry screen siren, but there's a place for that even in my dramatic wardrobe.

Marina from Perfume Smellin' Things suggests some appropriate occasions to wear Romance Always Yours. Like her, I don't see a meet-the-parents event in my future, so I wear it when weeding my tomatoes.

Ralph Lauren Perfumes: A Story in Pictures

This is a week of perfume annoyances, so why should I bother getting grouchy about the new Ralph Wild from Ralph Lauren?
From WWD:

Created by Ralph Lauren Fragrances' Linda Kramer in collaboration with Olivier Gillotin and Jim Krivda of Givaudan, the "wild fruity floral" fragrance has top notes of pink peppercorn, watermelon and wild strawberry; middle notes of cherry blossom, red rose pedal and sheer jasmine, and base notes of amber, sandalwood and musk.

The image above is the one we'll see in Ralph Wild ads. The target demographic is between the ages of 15 and 25.
I thought we all could use a reminder about the classic Ralph Lauren scents, Safari (now discontinued) and Lauren (reformulated and stripped from its soul):


Images: WWD, Okadi and Images de Parfums

Ralph Lauren Perfumes: A Story in Pictures

This is a week of perfume annoyances, so why should I bother getting grouchy about the new Ralph Wild from Ralph Lauren?
From WWD:

Created by Ralph Lauren Fragrances' Linda Kramer in collaboration with Olivier Gillotin and Jim Krivda of Givaudan, the "wild fruity floral" fragrance has top notes of pink peppercorn, watermelon and wild strawberry; middle notes of cherry blossom, red rose pedal and sheer jasmine, and base notes of amber, sandalwood and musk.

The image above is the one we'll see in Ralph Wild ads. The target demographic is between the ages of 15 and 25.
I thought we all could use a reminder about the classic Ralph Lauren scents, Safari (now discontinued) and Lauren (reformulated and stripped from its soul):


Images: WWD, Okadi and Images de Parfums

Ralph Lauren Perfumes: A Story in Pictures

This is a week of perfume annoyances, so why should I bother getting grouchy about the new Ralph Wild from Ralph Lauren?
From WWD:

Created by Ralph Lauren Fragrances' Linda Kramer in collaboration with Olivier Gillotin and Jim Krivda of Givaudan, the "wild fruity floral" fragrance has top notes of pink peppercorn, watermelon and wild strawberry; middle notes of cherry blossom, red rose pedal and sheer jasmine, and base notes of amber, sandalwood and musk.

The image above is the one we'll see in Ralph Wild ads. The target demographic is between the ages of 15 and 25.
I thought we all could use a reminder about the classic Ralph Lauren scents, Safari (now discontinued) and Lauren (reformulated and stripped from its soul):


Images: WWD, Okadi and Images de Parfums

Down Memory Lane (chapter I -Lauren by Ralph Lauren)

The number of new perfume bottles and samples in my possession has grown exponentially since I started this blog. They seem to multiply like bunnies, almost as though I don't have a hand in it (the Greek chorus is kindly asked to stop giggling). But, despite my Andy Tauer addiction and Serge Lutens habit, there's still a place in my heart and on my shelves for several of my old loves.

I don't remember the exact year I started wearing Lauren. Probably around 1991. I was in business school but longed for the real world, or at least for my fantasy version of adult life. I wanted to be sophisticated and feminine, but in a strong and powerful way. Around that time I came across an interview with Ralph Lauren. I was quite fond of him and his faux horsey-set image, the one from the old ads that represented all that I thought I ever wanted to be.

The interview focused on RL's perfumes. The newer one, Safari, and the classic Lauren. I don't remember a word that was said regarding Safari (though I later got interested in that one as well and bought a bottle), but I remember how he described Lauren, as the fragrance for a woman who is confident in her style, who wears cotton and linen shirts under a leather jackets and is radiant with a natural, healthy tan (yeah, I know).

I wanted to be that woman, from the horsiness of it all, down to the linen pants. A few days later I went and bought the maroon colored bottle. Of course, it wasn't quite as I anticipated. A 21 year old college student with the wrong boyfriend and wrong ideas isn't necessarily Lauren material. However, I wore it religiously and did my best to fit into the fragrance and the image, even if I couldn't really appreciate the nuances.

I wore it occasionally over the years, replacing the bottle at least once. I have very little left at the moment, and at the rate I've been going through it, a new one should finally be purchased. The floral top notes (I smell more carnation than violet, and it's mostly green) are crisp. They work for me as a reminder of the promised spring (much needed after the last few weeks of cold and snow). The green is new and tender, not lush. I get very little of the wood notes, and definitely not warm spice. Even the wood smells springy and fresh, not heavy. It isn't a cozy scent, more of a leather jacket than a cashmere sweater, and yes, a sharp and well cut white cotton shirt.

It fits better in my current fragrance wardrobe than it did back then, though I no longer dream of life in a Ralph Lauren ad. It suits me as a mid-week, daytime scent. It's pretty and calming. I only wish that they'd offer it in an EdP version. A classic fragrance should last longer than a couple of hours.

Down Memory Lane (chapter I -Lauren by Ralph Lauren)

The number of new perfume bottles and samples in my possession has grown exponentially since I started this blog. They seem to multiply like bunnies, almost as though I don't have a hand in it (the Greek chorus is kindly asked to stop giggling). But, despite my Andy Tauer addiction and Serge Lutens habit, there's still a place in my heart and on my shelves for several of my old loves.

I don't remember the exact year I started wearing Lauren. Probably around 1991. I was in business school but longed for the real world, or at least for my fantasy version of adult life. I wanted to be sophisticated and feminine, but in a strong and powerful way. Around that time I came across an interview with Ralph Lauren. I was quite fond of him and his faux horsey-set image, the one from the old ads that represented all that I thought I ever wanted to be.

The interview focused on RL's perfumes. The newer one, Safari, and the classic Lauren. I don't remember a word that was said regarding Safari (though I later got interested in that one as well and bought a bottle), but I remember how he described Lauren, as the fragrance for a woman who is confident in her style, who wears cotton and linen shirts under a leather jackets and is radiant with a natural, healthy tan (yeah, I know).

I wanted to be that woman, from the horsiness of it all, down to the linen pants. A few days later I went and bought the maroon colored bottle. Of course, it wasn't quite as I anticipated. A 21 year old college student with the wrong boyfriend and wrong ideas isn't necessarily Lauren material. However, I wore it religiously and did my best to fit into the fragrance and the image, even if I couldn't really appreciate the nuances.

I wore it occasionally over the years, replacing the bottle at least once. I have very little left at the moment, and at the rate I've been going through it, a new one should finally be purchased. The floral top notes (I smell more carnation than violet, and it's mostly green) are crisp. They work for me as a reminder of the promised spring (much needed after the last few weeks of cold and snow). The green is new and tender, not lush. I get very little of the wood notes, and definitely not warm spice. Even the wood smells springy and fresh, not heavy. It isn't a cozy scent, more of a leather jacket than a cashmere sweater, and yes, a sharp and well cut white cotton shirt.

It fits better in my current fragrance wardrobe than it did back then, though I no longer dream of life in a Ralph Lauren ad. It suits me as a mid-week, daytime scent. It's pretty and calming. I only wish that they'd offer it in an EdP version. A classic fragrance should last longer than a couple of hours.

Down Memory Lane (chapter I -Lauren by Ralph Lauren)

The number of new perfume bottles and samples in my possession has grown exponentially since I started this blog. They seem to multiply like bunnies, almost as though I don't have a hand in it (the Greek chorus is kindly asked to stop giggling). But, despite my Andy Tauer addiction and Serge Lutens habit, there's still a place in my heart and on my shelves for several of my old loves.

I don't remember the exact year I started wearing Lauren. Probably around 1991. I was in business school but longed for the real world, or at least for my fantasy version of adult life. I wanted to be sophisticated and feminine, but in a strong and powerful way. Around that time I came across an interview with Ralph Lauren. I was quite fond of him and his faux horsey-set image, the one from the old ads that represented all that I thought I ever wanted to be.

The interview focused on RL's perfumes. The newer one, Safari, and the classic Lauren. I don't remember a word that was said regarding Safari (though I later got interested in that one as well and bought a bottle), but I remember how he described Lauren, as the fragrance for a woman who is confident in her style, who wears cotton and linen shirts under a leather jackets and is radiant with a natural, healthy tan (yeah, I know).

I wanted to be that woman, from the horsiness of it all, down to the linen pants. A few days later I went and bought the maroon colored bottle. Of course, it wasn't quite as I anticipated. A 21 year old college student with the wrong boyfriend and wrong ideas isn't necessarily Lauren material. However, I wore it religiously and did my best to fit into the fragrance and the image, even if I couldn't really appreciate the nuances.

I wore it occasionally over the years, replacing the bottle at least once. I have very little left at the moment, and at the rate I've been going through it, a new one should finally be purchased. The floral top notes (I smell more carnation than violet, and it's mostly green) are crisp. They work for me as a reminder of the promised spring (much needed after the last few weeks of cold and snow). The green is new and tender, not lush. I get very little of the wood notes, and definitely not warm spice. Even the wood smells springy and fresh, not heavy. It isn't a cozy scent, more of a leather jacket than a cashmere sweater, and yes, a sharp and well cut white cotton shirt.

It fits better in my current fragrance wardrobe than it did back then, though I no longer dream of life in a Ralph Lauren ad. It suits me as a mid-week, daytime scent. It's pretty and calming. I only wish that they'd offer it in an EdP version. A classic fragrance should last longer than a couple of hours.