Fragrance Reviews by themeglet

I'm somewhat confused by Folavril, since (to my nose) it smells almost identical to Eau de Charlotte. Don't get me wrong, I like Eau de Charlotte... but I was expecting something, well, different. If I were to toy with the idea that I'm actually smelling different notes, I might suggest that Folavril is a bit more "soapy" than EdC. To me, EdC falls in that category of "oddly pleasant"-- somewhat similar to liquid fingernail polish remover and somewhat similar to a citrusy floral. Folavril, on the other hand, is fingernail polish remover with a hint of Ivory. Since I have a mini of EdC, I can't see any reason to invest in the Folavril... yet, my nose tends to go through its "awakenings." We'll see.

Ooooooo..... angel-food numminess. This is everything I've ever wanted a gourmand to be: light, airy, fluffy, well-whipped, subtle in its sweetness, and overwhelmed by egg whites! If egg whites had a scent... (hmmmm!)

I have yet to try any of the Demeter cake scents (other than Vanilla Cake Batter, which is a *wee* bit too buttery, but still a great gourmand); I can only HOPE they smell this lovely. Angel-food cake. I'm smitten.

Hmm. This was not what I'd wanted it to be. I wanted it to be that peppermint that actually lasted... a scent that had a longer life than AA Herba Fresca and Mentafollia. It's nice, but for THIS price tag, mamma needs it to last a great deal longer.

Not such a bad amber; however, I wouldn't buy a bottle on the basis of "not bad." Yes, there's something ambery going on here, but something offsets its potential ambery goodness. I may be the odd one out, but I get more of a "custard" or "creme caramel" impression, with amber popping its head up here and there and there and here, without ever actually planting a flag. I would redirect amber-seekers to L'Artisan's Ambre Extreme--one of the nicest ambers I've yet sniffed. Etro's Ambra is nice enough in its opening, but quickly putters out into something less pleasant. (I should end this review now, since every passing minute increases the "meh..." on my skin. The skin of others may be less persnickety, though.)

Very nice, for a patchouli... Not one of the notes that I would go out of my way to sniff, but usually forgivable (if not forgettable). Etro's take on the patch is a good one, though. In the bottle, it's "hippie gone wild"-- but on the skin, it mellows nicely into a woody, clean, relatively tame (yet still sexy) patchoo. It reminds me of the plant more than the incense.

YES! I cannot get enough of this scent. It smells so off-putting in the sample vial... yet after two minutes on your skin, it smells almost identical to some wonderful Italian unisex scent that I worshipped several years ago... (still not sure what scent that was, but the men wore it well and the ladies wore it gracefully.) It's very clean, very crisp, somewhat citrusy, and reminds me somewhat of Neutrogena's Face Lotion (and soap, etc) for Men-- one of my favorite scents ever. I would REALLY love to have a full bottle of this, while it's still (hopefully) around.

Waaaayyyy too sweet. I need more almond and less amaretto + bandaid. This may work well on someone else's skin, but on mine, it turns to "big scary monster."

Wow-- I'm surprised at the response to PdF Fig Tea. To me, this scent was such a pleasant summer surprise-- not too sweet, not too (or very) figgy, but light, fresh, a wee bit woody, and infinitely wearable. In the warmer months, of course. Then again, I'm a sucker for most tea scents. The fact that it's also very affordable makes me like it even more. All in all, it's just a great summer scent.

I'm going to jump in and share the "ewww...." I'm starting to realize that frankincense is just not an incense note I care for. This *is* somewhat more tolerable than Avignon--certainly sweeter-- but not enough so that I'd voluntarily wear it. To my nose, this smells like a gourmand version of Avignon-- as if the priests were cooking up an enormous torte de cinnamon, honey, sweat and tallow. And it's covered in pastel birthday candles.

Yet another scent that is SOOOOO heavenly, and SOOOOO unaffordable. I received a very generous decant of BF from a lovely swapper, and in three days, have almost emptied that decant. I am now convinced that I need a FB, even if it means taking out a loan. BF is a perfect capture of that smell that flour gets when it has spent a few weeks in the freezer.... frozen flour. There's not a hint of peanut butter here, nor is there anything gourmandesque (depite the fact that it's a flour scent). It's a sugar-free, unsweetened version of Jour de Fete. I don't pick up on the oatmeal, vanilla, or cream notes that others have mentioned... It's all dry, cold (frozen) flour that *hints* at its sweet potential (like flour before it becomes a cake), but never moves past that hint of sweetness. Oddly, it's become my ideal summer scent, if only because it constantly reminds me of sticking my head in the freezer as a child, sniffing the odd melange of ice, frosty plastic, and freezer-burned flour. (Yes, my mom thought I was insane.) Yet it's surprisingly "cooling"... I haven't been this knocked over by a scent in quite a while. Better still, no one will KNOW that you're wearing perfume; they'll assume that your natural body scent is just THAT amazing. It's now at the very top of my "must have FB" list. (Thank you, dear K! :)
Similar (but not *quite* as awesome) scents: Jour de Fete, FM L'Eau d'Hiver. If you like either of these, you'll love Bois Farine.

Oooooh. No. This just doesn't make sense. I don't know if I'm wearing grape soda, cough syrup, or...um, blueberry syrup. From reading the reviews, I shouldn't be having any of these responses. To my mind (and nose), this means that there is no reason for keeping this around--and oh, for the love of all things holy, discontinuing a masterpiece such as Bois Blond. However, if I ever have a "wild hair" that creates a certain itch for grape/blueberry flavored beer, I know which scent sample I'll reach for.

Am I the only femme in love with this scent? On first, second, and third sniff, I am reminded of the muddy pond that I swam in as a child during hot southern summers; it's muddy pond water in a bottle. It sounds repulsive, I'm sure; yet, it's such a captivating, intoxicating scent... I loved that scent that stuck to my skin after taking the boat out in the pond, jumping in, and swimming around. It was somehow both clean and ancient, muddy and pristine. I've smelled so many vetivers, at this point, that I wouldn't recognize one if I met in in broad daylight...yet I love whatever is going on in this scent, and whatever its master-nose had in mind during the creation/composition. It takes an insanely genius nose to come up with a scent like this.
Oh-- this is NOT a scent for snuggling with the husband or boyfriend. If you're a femme who grew up in rural environs, it's worth every penny for the experience. If not, try it anyway; you might just convince yourself. If you're male, men and women alike will be won over by your utter "back-woodsy-ness." It's THAT rustic (and yes, dreamy...)

Excepting my experiences with the flower, I never once thought of myself as a "freesia" gal. In fact, I never knew anyone besides BBW did a freesia scent... I just took it for a cheapie note that could be done however one would do it. Boy, howdy, was I mistaken.
I received a sweet little decant from my dear sister in scent (Dear K, my nose now trusts your every decision! :) What can I say; I've been instructed in the way that a freesia should "behave." I don't know why this flower likes my nose so much, but it does...and I wouldn't mind having more of it for my nose to appreciate. Thumbs up, all the way.

Diptyque is currently pulling some odd tricks on my nose. My first umpteen sniffs of L'Ombre were disturbing... I smelled sharp, dank, muddy, rosy, and green. This was offensive; I didn't want to smell sharp, dank, muddy, rose, and green. Yet my recent scented "reminders" of how much I adore the smell of pond water and rose did something odd to my brain. Now, L'Ombre rocks my world (and, very soon, I'm sure, my pockets too...) It's rose and pond water. Seriously, who could wish for more?!

Etro Lemon Sorbet is a *nice* lemony scent, without any sweetness or "tang." The rosemary makes it a nice, dry, aromatic EdC worth its 7 or 8 minute life-span. If it were longer lasting, I'd be looking at my scent for some future summer... but it doesn't stick around long enough to make an impression. Sigh.

This is quite nice-- hay, a hint of leather, and grass. For the first 10 minutes, it smells quite a bit like CdG #2-- crisp, tangy, almost citrusy, but with a more earthy base. To me, (sorry scenteur7!) this would make a nice summer scent.

I would have a difficult time, indeed, coming up with a better description than that given by Caltha (below). So far, I have loved everything I've sampled by Eau d'Italie. Somehow, Bois d'Ombrie has become my ideal "woodsy, smoky, dry, spicy, leathery (cognac-y?)" scent. I'm also fascinated by the wild carrot note--which I probably wouldn't recognize if it bit me. This said, to my nose, it's just not a gourmand scent; rather, it's a dry, slightly peppery tanned wood. I'm stunned that this hasn't received more attention! It's certainly one of my favorite discoveries of the past year.

I received a sample of JL French Lime Blossom from a lovely swapper. I note this because Jo Malone is not a fragrance line I would have gone out of my way to meet. JM's fragrance names are so unimaginative, so uninspiring... (not that I have unreasonably high expectations!) After five days of sniffing the sample vial, I finally decided that today would be the day to test it on my skin. To my surprise, my skin actually liked it and turned it into something nicer than it seems to be. In the vial, it smells exactly like lime-scented liquid dish detergent. I'm still amazed that it has mellowed so nicely on MY skin, which inevitably turns each and every citrusy floral scent I dare try into a Demeter. (Love it and leave it, baby!) JM French Lime blossom wears surprisingly well, and reminds me of visiting my aunt in Florida, who has a house surrounded by lime trees...and alligators, but I digress. The tarragon note might be key here... something keeps the scent from becoming too sharp, while remaining citrusy green, clean, and floral. It may be that I've found my summer (and possibly spring) '07 scent.

After two short months of Tabac Blond weather here in perpetually-sunny So. Cal, I'm starting to remember that there are several other months of the year to be accounted for, perfume-wise. I adore TB, but it's a scent that becomes somewhat petulant when met with months-on-end of sun and heat. Ironically, Sienne l'Hiver promises to be everything I want in a spring/summer scent, reminding me that snow and chestnuts do, indeed, exist. I've read so many wishy-washy reviews of the scent, and yet my skin loves this like no other (except, of course, TB). I adore the odd combination of smoke+ozone+chestnuts+cobblestones+cold air+violet+something green+wet earth. So, for the love of all things Italian, why must it be so *expensive?* (Yes, one day when I sprout money from my ears, I shall bathe in this and Bois d'Ombrie...)

I'm trying, really, I am. Il Profumo's web site places Encens Epice in the "oriental, smoky, woody" olfactory family. (Just for the heck of it, and since I have the page open-- EE's "Psychological effect" should "stimulate mental activity, provide serenity and induce to meditation." The Italian description, I'll admit, is somewhat more poetic than the translation...) The point here is that for such a promising (if not eyebrow-raising) description, I'm getting nothing but essence of Glade. More precisely, this is the scent of the waxy air freshener with the push-up plastic cover and gelled substance beneath that turns into hard wax after a month. To my nose, this is sharp and waxy, and should be called "Glade Summer Breeze." The notes of "Glade Summer Breeze": accord de Pine Sol, fabric softener, wax, something burnt (not incense), and possibly lemon. Lovers of this scent, I welcome criticism of my olfactory know-how... but to my nose, this is a "no-no" in profuming. Perfuming.

Hmm. I've spent a month sniffing and re-sniffing the bottle trying to make up my mind on this one. My first reaction was the same as a previous commenter: beef jerky. It has that artificial-smoke-flavoring-that-is-added-to-fake-meats smell. (You've smelled the "fakin' bacon"...but do you really want to wear it?) To be fair, I bought this PMU in an attempt to make a fake-leather book smell more "authentic." Alas and alack, the book now smells more like gunpowder tea. That said, there seems to be a large divide between the male nose's response to this perfume and the female nose's response. So far, five male friends have accurately identified the scent as "leather," while six (of seven) female friends thought the scent belonged in the "smoked meats" category. Demeter's "Leather" also has an underlying note of "skin," which makes it infinitely more fascinating than many of Demeter's smoky-scents. In sum, this is one of Demeter's more interesting, if not pleasantly unpleasant, fragrances.
EDIT: If you want a more intriguing(and somewhat more wearable) leather from Demeter, try "Riding Crop." It lasts surprisingly long for a PMU and serves as a nice "quickie" substitute for the more expensive leather/suede scents.

Absolutely divine. Omnia Crystalline is possibly the most delightful green/citrus/floral fragrance I've found yet. It achieves what Bulgari's Green Tea and White Tea could never quite reach--presence, sillage, and delicacy with a pleasant bite. I don't find this scent sweet at all; rather, to my nose, it is crisp, clean, prismatic, oddly reminiscent of lemon-mint Italian ice (though neither lemon nor mint is included among its notes). Crystalline's notes: bamboo, Japanese pear, lotus flower and balsa wood. This is a full-bottle worthy scent if ever there were one.

Another excellent fragrance by Ava Luxe. Kretek has all the advantages of smelling like exotic clove cigarettes without the unpleasant, lingering stale stench of aged clove-cigarette smoke. This is very wearable indeed. It's also worth noting that Kretek has helped get me through many a late-night craving for Caron's Poivre. The two scents aren't identical, of course, but they do seem to share the pepper, clove and hint of tobacco. Wears well (and long), and as the previous reviewer mentioned, is quite affordable.

Oooh, nice. Came home today to find my mini in the mail, with a slight leak from the cap. The rest of my mail smelled divine, needless to say. As the fates would have it, my copy of the Suskind book, Perfume: the Story of a Murderer was also in the mail, and now smells quite lovely. Since my hands are completely covered in this divine (if leaky) juice, it makes sense to try to translate the sillage into words. The opening notes are somewhat abrupt, but not unpleasant; if you have a soft-spot for Angel, you won't mind the bold gourmandesque opening. The dry down is rather fascinating-- the gourmand notes seem to settle down and reveal the more interesting middle and top notes. (Was this scent engineered to work backwards?!) The rosewood and oak base notes carry the lily, orchid and ylang ylang notes nicely; the white thyme and saffron come out clearly on top, giving the scent an overall well-grounded-yet-sparkling body. It's tempting to ask if bergamot isn't also included in the mixture. (I'm also tempted to say that this smells like the love child of Bulgari's Omnia and Omnia Crystalline...) Overall, a very nice--and interesting--composition.

This is one of my husband's favorite perfumes. In fact, he just keeps buying it for me. (It's a good thing I really like it...) To date, I've only had wonderful experiences with the Thymes fragrances; this scent is equally fantastic. While I wouldn't describe this as smelling anything like green tea, it does have that crisp, light green scent that I love. It has a hint of something almost rosey, or vaguely floral--but the undertones of bergamot (and moss? cedar?) make it well-grounded and earthy. I love it.

If I could make my entire apartment smell like this, (and if I weren't on a graduate-student salary!), I would in a heart-beat. This perfume has been at the top of my list for at least eight years now, and I've never for a moment grown tired of it. I love clean, crisp fragrances, and this is one of the best. I would describe the cologne as having citrus notes--though not identifiably, or conventionally "citrusy"--and green, with hints of dill, sage, and (of course) eucalyptus that come together to create a classy, unique fragrance. [An added note: the most interesting--amd memorable--comment I've received on this perfume was from a friend from New Zealand, who spent the better part of an hour "sniffing" me during a faculty lecture. At the end of the talk, he told me that I smelled "wonderfully familiar.") What a cool scent....

The first time I tried this on, the man in my life said it was the most wonderfully, citrus-y thing he had ever smelled; lime, lemon, and green tea. It set the scent for the most wonderful summer of my life. This is *THE* summer scent, and it comes (or came?) in the most amazing semi-lotion-tonic-liquid-fragrance form you'll ever find, which actually cools your skin when it's 98-degrees in the sun. My now-husband loves it. I'm a bit concerned that I haven't been able to find it in the last year or two... dear gods, please tell me that Lancome has not discontinued this miracle serum.... The one word of warning: Use *all* of this during the first year or two that you own it. After year two, it starts to take on a strangly potent gasoline/benzina smell that *you* will notice (but your loved one won't, oddly enough...

Moschino's Oh! is a delightfully vibrant floral with slightly citrusy opening and woody undertones. I was expecting something with less body--a relatively weak EDT or EDP with little staying power. However, Oh! is not at all shy; it is crisp, yet round, and surprisingly energizing. This is a nice scent to put on first thing in the morning when you want to wake up your senses. Very nice.

Oooh, tasty. Almond, sugar, creme, marzipan-y goodness... (amaretto?) Yes, amaretto. This is at the top of my list of "comfort scents." I do, indeed, have a list. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.

AL's "Milk" smells much like condensed milk-- the sweet milk in a can that is used as the base ingredient in so many desserts... I find this scent absolutely delightful, in the appropriate context. In other words, you don't want to wear it on a date--you DO, however, want to wear it to bed, on the inside of your elbow, on a cold winter night when DH is tucked away, snoring. (Oh, you KNOW it happens!) This is a comfort scent in every respect. If you like Demeter's "Condensed Milk" or any sweet-milk scented fragrance, you will love this. It's simple, but delightful

Ava Luxe's Loukhoum is beyond delightful, and has a rare (and sweet) sophistication that sets it apart from other gourmand scents. Pistachio, hazelnut, cream, light musk, and a very light hint of rose water. Nice, indeed.

Note: I recently ordered a bottle of the Loukhoum Body Milk, and must add that it is one of the most delightfully addictive scents I own. (Nicely priced, too!)

Noel Blanc is interesting; it opens with a note that is reminiscent of Aqua Net (the old, aerosol hair spray), but is tempered by a deeper, sweeter white chocolate base. I also get a hint of brown sugar, ginger, nutmeg, and possibly raspberry (or some sort of tangy fruit). Nice, but I will need some cold weather before I can make sense of this one.

Cabbage Patch Kid in a bottle. Nice. I'm rather impressed by AL's Doll Face, and would recommend it wholeheartedly. This is a soft, powdery floral that has a hint of vanilla, a touch of white musk, and a light note of plastic (or rubber?).I don't pick up on the violet note at all, though it may be part of the floral/powder combination. Overall, very nice.

If there is a rose in this juice, I'm missing it. Parfum Sacre, like most Carons, is less a fragrance and more an *experience*...but what an experience it is! To be fair, I fell in love with this scent shortly before trying Tabac Blond, which has since eclipsed every other fragrance I could imagine liking. (Then again, I still have an undying devotion to Aimez Moi; it is a different scent for an entirely different mood.) My point: I think my nose's judgment may have been compromised by Tabac Blond. Parfum Sacre is a lovely breath of sweet incense, clove, and old library. Come to think of it, it reminds me quite a bit of Demeter's Paperback PMU-- sweet, musty, a tad heavy, but nice. (OK, so now that I pick up Paperback to check my comparison, the two are quite similar, sans the eau d'alcohol-- but I *do* notice the dusky floral note, which I have to assume is the rose. Then again, it could be that mysteriously sweet and heavy "play-doh" note that others have noted in many Carons.) Overall, a very nice composition that may yet prove to be full-bottle worthy, if I can overcome the Tabac Blond obsession.

Oh, no no no no no. I should have told myself "no, no more Carons for you, Meg" before ordering the samples from a very wonderful seller on ebay. The experience of owning a 1ml sample of Tabac Blond is much like test driving a Lamborghini and then having to go back to the real world of your Toyota Paseo. Why did I do this to myself? I feel as if I have purchased a remarkably addictive (and EXPENSIVE) drug, and now crave it like I've never craved a scent before. ARGH! Will the gods of ebay *please* send me some wonderful seller who wants to rid themselves of Tabac Blond for a relatively sane price? Is there a decent dupe to be found? I'm a grad student, and can't for a moment justify spending upward of $65 for a tiny 10 ml bottle... (It hurts us, Precious!)

The leather (rubber?) or suede note is key here; other notes: blond/light tobacco, amber, insence/smoke, vanilla, carnation, linden, iris, vetiver, ylang ylang, cedar, patchouli, musk. Amazing opening and delightful drydown. Thumbs WAY up.

Mahora, I do believe, is the Kali of Tuberose. I love Guerlain, but this is just too much...Perhaps my complaint is more against the flower than the perfume house. Tuberose can be a monster, indeed, and props to JP Guerlain for trying to tame the beast--but beast tamers (and crocodile hunters), however talented they may be, all meet their match eventually. The tuberose somehow cancels out every other note that might otherwise offer some form of redemption. Mahora is just too much (too much heady tuberose, ylang ylang and neroli) for my head.

Cedar and rose...a spot-on capture of the zeitgeist of '93. Not a bad scent, but really not my cup of tea. (Speaking of which, I don't get the tea note at all...) Again, not a bad scent--I could sit next to someone wearing this and not find it offensive--but I think it might be a bit too reminiscent of scents such as Liz Claiborne and... heh, perhaps castorpollux is right in saying that Tribu is one of the most recognizable smells out there... It's a nice, innocuously woody/rosy, earthy scent that accurately pins down the Benetton multi-color/multi-scent ethos.

How I looked forward to receiving my mini Mitsouko... and what a disturbing feeling it was to dab a tiny drop onto my hand, and realize I had suddenly released the genie of old ladies. Why? Is it it that my nose has no sense of sophistication? Does my mini *also* date from 1919? (If a perfume already smells of old lady, can the bottle itself go "old"? Will I wake up thirty years from now with a nose for this?) Once again--yet for the first time with a Guerlain scent--I am reminded of the half-dozen perfumes that my grandmother (god rest her soul) must have purchased when she was in her twenties, each which had that old-crusty-perfume-build-up around the edges of the bottle. One day my nose will recognize the "mystery" in this scent; until then, it will remain a lovely little mini bottle on my desk.

EDIT: Never let it be said that elderly ladies are transparent. Despite my prolonged negative response to this, I must admit that I find it terribly intriguing. I don't know if I'm convincing my nose to like it, or if my nose is convincing me that there is more going on here than I want to admit. Either way, Mitsouko has many stories left to tell...I think I might be ready to listen.

This is one of the most wonderful fragrances Demeter has to offer. It is light, airy, and captivating... remarkably reminiscent of the smell of pink mimosa blossoms (i.e., the lightly sweet-smelling "puff-ball" flowers of the silk tree). There are also underlying hints of green that keep the scent balanced, and never too sweet or overpowering. It also reminds me somewhat of that Bed, Bath and Beyond "Egyptian Cotton" linen spray, or even Laura Biagiotti's Venezia Pastello (my HG fragrance). The downside, as with all Demeters, the scent is rather short-lived (but lasts much longer if sprayed on clothing). A nice light-green floral, highly recommended.

Au Thé Blanc is a delightful addition to the Bulgari tea line. It is slightly more peppery and zesty than Au Thé Vert, but wears well in both summer and winter (and probably just as well in spring and autumn...) To my nose, it is remarkably similar to Omnia Crystalline, though Crystalline has much better staying power.

A lovely, tame violet that is reminiscent of lightly scented face powder or lipstick. Personally, I adore these scents. Meteorites is one of the nicest, least assertive violets I've sniffed to date. I do wish it had a little more lasting power and/or sillage; then again, perhaps my nose has grown used to the scent and I just don't notice it anymore... Nevertheless, I love my violets, and I simply adore Guerlain's Meteorites.

Wow, scenteur7 hit the nail on the head with his comparison to Allure...But I would qualify the comparison by adding that TD is Allure's sexy Italian cousin. This is another very nice number from Laura Biagiotti, una donna (e naso) veramente incredibile. Tempore Donna is *not* the most outstanding fragrance she has released; nevertheless, it is nothing less than delightful. Top notes: Lemon, Peach, Mandarin, Pineapple. / Middle notes: Freesia, Violet, Jasmine, Orris. / Base notes: Vanilla, Sandal, Cedar, Vetiver. To my nose, the top notes are very similar to those of Allure and Burburry's London (that is, the scent previously titled London, but now re-named "Classic," I believe...) Dominant notes: Peach/apricot, a very light pineapple, a confident vanilla, a very shy freesia, and a sweet sandal. Very nice, indeed.

Oh, wow. When I first sniffed this in the bottle, I couldn't believe that I was sniffing the same scent praised by so many reviewers. After a month of sniffing (driven more, I'll admit, by dismay than by interest) I finally dared myself to give it a chance. After the first ten minutes, it started to blossom into something quite delightful--soft yet pronounced, almost velvety. Generally I dislike neroli as a dominant note, but blended with the carnation and vanilla, this ends up smelling slightly violet-like--and I *adore* violet. Very nice indeed...should be particularly nice on a cool October evening.

This is without a doubt the most delightfully soft, candied floral scent I've ever encountered. I have yet to find a Laura Biagiotti fragrance that is anything less than wonderful. The fruity notes remain light and airy; I'm afraid I can't identify any single notes, other than (perhaps) peony, silk tree flower, and something that reminds me of sweet wisteria. Unfortunately, Pastello has been discontinued, and is rather pricey. (Yes, I'm saving my money...but oh, it will indeed be worth every penny.)

Heh... it's zesty; I'll give it that. Cheap n' Chic is floral, fruity, clean, nice, innocuous, and somewhat antiseptic. My nose is neither pleased nor displeased. The husband thinks it's floral, but I'm unconvinced. The little black bottle says "fear me, woman!" but the juice says "I am daffodil, I am lemon. Purr." There's wood in here somewhere, but I don't know where. Nice, but not very memorable.

Well, that's it, folks. I can now throw in the towel. I have found my HG. Previous reviewers have done an excellent job of describing this fragrance... The one note that no one seems to have mentioned--a note I absolutely love--is the sweet pipe tobacco scent that gives the violet, mint, and anise a much richer, almost "buttery," more fascinating body. (This really isn't a sweet musk, but a sweet pipe tobacco and/or whisky...) The violet note(s) are nothing less than stunning. I have fallen, and fallen hard.

Well, this one has won every "scent-test" to date with the husband. He loves it. I'm unconvinced. This is certainly the sweetest scent I have in my collection; yet it never offends my nose. Actually, I had a student that came into my office last quarter wearing this perfume. It smelled so nice and unrecognizable on her that I had to ask her what she was wearing. On me, it smells of lychee, azalea, and ozone. Not bad, but sweet, noticeable, pleasant, and fruity. I would wear this on a sunny day in early spring. (It might be a bit daunting in hotter/more humid weather.)

Why must it happen, that ever-repeating drama, of waiting a lifetime to find that one holy grail of woody goodness... the perfect fragrance, inexpensive and colorful... and then, for some reason, the company decides to end its sweet life? I loved Jovan's "Fire" from the beginning; I never denied its hold on me. Everyone around me adored it, and ask for it still... yet it has disappeared from the shelves. Cedar, sweet and hot, it becomes one. (Now that I have wax'ed poetic at the expense of my dignity, I should say that this is the most awesome drugstore perfume ever released. It's an obsession, and I need more. Please, Jovan, make more.)

Heh... it's zesty; I'll give it that. Cheap n' Chic is floral, fruity, clean, nice, innocuous, and somewhat antiseptic. My nose is neither pleased nor displeased. The husband thinks it's floral, but I'm unconvinced. The little black bottle says "fear me, woman!" but the juice says "I am daffodil, I am lemon. Purr." There's wood in here somewhere, but I don't know where. Nice, but strange.

This is possibly the tastiest men's scent I've yet smelled. I got a mini for the husband from ebay, and now I can't seem to resist the urge to dab a bit of it on his neck every time I walk by. This is gingerbread in a bottle... but gingerbread with a hint of vanilla and another hint of "damned sexy." What can I say? It's just hot, and incredibly edible. (Men, if you want to be edible, you've heard my words...)

I've waited a few weeks to write a review on Omnia, since I've been--and still am--somewhat undecided. I like the scent much more now than initially; it's sweet, but nicely grounded by a spicy basenote that works well. I was expecting the white chocolate note to come through more clearly, but I only get a hint of it. There is a bit of a "kick" to it that reminds one of chai and sandalwood. Quite nice, somewhat wearable, infinitely sniffable in the bottle. Should my mini ever run dry, it will certainly be replaced--I'm just not convinced that it's full-sized-bottle-worthy.

Oooh, intriguing... My husband thinks I have lost my mind on this one, but I like it. It has that odd, heavy sweetness that I associate with either breast milk or home-made ice-cream (an odd "either/or", I admit...) It fades after about 10 seconds, and then mysteriously re-appears throughout the day when you have completely forgotten it. It's not quite vanilla, not quite milk; rather, it's sweet cream that has gotten a little warm. Nice.

Despite the ridiculous packaging, I have found my (unfortuately not very long-lasting) HG. I love citrus scents, but this one has something much nicer than the many others I've tried. This is Italian grapefruit soda mixed with limonata and something else that I can't identify...(bergamot?? orange?) If I could smell of one fragrance for the rest of my days, this would be it. (Do they make this in a perfume oil??? If only it lasted longer...)

When my long-awaited mini-Noa arrived in the mail, I opened the boring little white box, pulled out the roundish bottle, and dabbed away. I couldn't smell a single thing... I was convinced that I had been duped by some evil ebayer. The only scent I picked up on was something resembling the juice in an old Avon perfume bottle (with a freaky bird-shaped stopper) still sitting on my grandmother's shelf, undoubtedly since 1972. Yet, after about 20 minutes, I started noticing an interesting, body-heat-wave-o'-scent that was nothing less than fascinating. Long story short: this is a fragrance that your nose has to learn to recognize. But when it does--and it only takes a short while--it is very much worth the wait. I never really understood perfumes that aspired to "desserty-ness" (pardon the neologism), but the coffee/chocolate undertones work incredibly well. Who would think that this quasi-cocoa scent would work well with anything lightly floral? It works, and it works well.
Added note (later): the more I wear this, the more I am convinced that it is my HG. My nose now picks up the coffee/chocolate note (noted before), but also a hint of nutmeg, green tea, white flowers, and a very light musk. I am tempted to invest in the body lotion and any other products in the Noa line.

Well, this was rather unexpected. I received my mini in the mail, opened, and immediately fell out of obsession with the lime and lavendar box (what a wonderful box!) I couldn't get the scent off, no matter how many times I washed my wrist. Then, literally overnight, the olfactory-fairy sprinkled her dust of inexplicable enchantment, and I woke up craving the perfume. This just doesn't happen. I like anise as a flavor-- it's great in cookies and other sweets (though I abhor licorice), but on me? Needless to say, something about the scent was addictive, and after a week, I'm already half-way through my mini. Notes: anise, violet, vanilla, possibly a tame breed (?) of patchouli, and Cabbage Patch Doll with a rebellious side... (there's no baby powder here, ma'am!) I know I have to stop saying it, but once again, I'm in love with my wrist.

This is Coppertone without the pleasant smell...or perhaps a less-expensive Coppertone "imposter." I'll be the first to admit that I've worn Coppertone as a "perfume" on occasions; however, this just doesn't work. The scent is too sharp, without the mellow "skin" essence that makes suntan lotion wearable.

This is one of the nicest smelling PMUs I've come across. It's pleasantly fresh, remarkably reminiscent of Snuggle. Demeter somehow managed to balance a light airy note with a deeper, soapy base. It's also one of the few PMUs with a degree of lasting power-- moreso on your clothes than on your skin. In fact, this particular PMU lasts longer on my clothes than any other more expensive perfume (the one exception being Demeter's Linden). I like it, and will definitely buy it again in the future.

Anosmia has hit the nail on the head. This is not a scent to wear to any social event (unless it is a wiener roast...) Of the umpteen dozen Demeter decants I've collected, this is the least-sniffed, and certainly not one I would wear. Notes: Smoke, salty charred hot dogs (or any fake meat flavored with artificial smoke flavor), and burning wood.

As a bibliophile, this was a must-try. Demeter's "Dust" rocked my world, but Paperback falls a little short. The two PMUs are remarkably similar, with the exception of the sweet tone that dominates Paperback. I don't quite notice the vanilla and/ or coconut notes that other reviewers have mentioned; it's more of an old pipe-tobacco note. Other notes: glue, ink/ toner, and cheap paper. This is a scent that you can only find in pulp novels-- not in more expensive publications. (After sniffing every paperback book in my house, I've decided that they must have used a Bantam book as their scent-model; none of the others have that same distinct sweet-glue and pulp-paper smell.)

Dirt is one of Demeter's most incredible scents. I've gone through at least three bottles in the past five years, and just can't get enough of it. Many people have already given great descriptions of the smell; it smells like a wonderfully rich soil-- not the bagged planting soil from your local garden center (which tends to smell of compost and manure). Demeter's "Dirt" is definitely one of the more personal, self-indulgent selections, especially if you like gardening or walking in the woods. (In other words, I probably wouldn't wear it to a cocktail party.) Even if you have no fond memories of digging in the yard and "exploring" the woods near your home, this perfume will convince you that you DO, in fact, have those great memories.

Oh, why can't this scent keep up the fabulous momentum that it has at the beginning? Why must it morph from wonderful, crisp opening notes of green, citrus, and spicy green wood to eau de Brittney? I'm convinced that this is just one of those fragrances that I'm doomed to sniff from the bottle, but never on my skin. After half an hour on my skin, it becomes horribly sweet and drug-store smelling, with nothing whatsoever of its original crisp, summery air remaining. Why? Is there some way to alter my body chemistry so that I can wear this scent? (For those of you in the know, please let me know if you have found an answer to this one...)

No. Just.... no. This was just a bad idea from the get-go. Someone in the YR offices must have come in one day after a long night of drinking, and managed to convince his superior (who was also recovering from a night o' frothy brew) that the company should try to do their own version of Giorgio BH's Red, but with the added notes of crowded high-school-gymn, subway-in-summer, and vomitous teenager, with a hint of marigold to make it a little more "perfumey." The description from the YR web site: "Fruity Amber, Mirabelle Plum, Currant Blossom, Damason Plum, Ylang-Ylang, Amber, Cistus, Sandalwood." Even now, as I sit here forcing myself to smell and re-smell this over and over and over (to be fair), I can honestly say that I do not get *any* of these notes... not a single one. Fortunately, the bottle designers made the brilliant decision to design a bottle that lies on its side... Did we miss day one of "fragrance bottle design 101"? I must live with the constant fear that this beast will leak. (Is it possible that I can dislike any fragrance more than Red?)

For some reason, all of the Yves Rocher scents I've tried to date have failed to leave an impression-- (with the one exception of Ode a l'Amour, which I find offensive in every way). This scent is heavy on the jasmine, almost as heavy on the bergamot, and offers very little that one might call "feminine". As much as I (still) like Drakkar Noir on the DH, Yria reminds me a bit too much of what I like in a men's cologne... I'm just not convinced.

I have had a love affair with this perfume since high school. One of my dear friends from Rome (I know, too convenient) sent me a mini, and I became obsessed. It was not yet available in the US, or at least in my home town, so I had to wait until I actually went back to Italy to get more. Perhaps the fact that it was new, and so many women in Rome were actually wearing it, fixed the (very literal) association between name of fragrance and city. To this day, it is still at the top of my list. I've never noticed the citrus/bergamot (I love both)...though grapefruit is a distinct possibility... nor do I get the mint; this is creamy amber, balsam, (cedar?), and something floral. (I honestly can't identify the floral, but it's there, part of the overall texture.) The other reviewers who described this as warm and cuddly are dead on. This is a fall/winter perfume; it only works as a summer perfume if you live in the deep south, and have the balmy, heavy night air to complement it. I simply can't praise it enough.