|
Notes from the Editors of The Lipstick Page Forums: A Dedication to the Art of Beauty and Fashion.
Meet the Staff: The Sketchbook · Blog Home · Profile · MySpace · Contact Us · FAQ/TOS Older Articles · Beauty Notes: Update on TESS Skincare · Beauty Notes: Cate Blanchett's hair · Culture Notes: Desert Island Films (Part 3) · Culture Notes: North & South · Tech: Label reorganization · Beauty Notes: Christian Dior Diorissimo Review · Fantasy Web Find of the Day: Fleurette Bluebird Ch... · Nars Collections 2003 to 2004 · Nars Spring 2008: Shanghai Lily · The Library: The Chronicles of Narnia Comments Archives · Beauty Blog (2003-2004) · Fashion Blog (archive) · New Releases Blog (archive) · Beauty Articles (archive) · April 2005 · May 2005 · June 2005 · July 2005 · August 2005 · September 2005 · October 2005 · November 2005 · December 2005 · January 2006 · February 2006 · March 2006 · April 2006 · May 2006 · June 2006 · July 2006 · August 2006 · September 2006 · October 2006 · November 2006 · December 2006 · January 2007 · February 2007 · March 2007 · April 2007 · May 2007 · June 2007 · July 2007 · August 2007 · September 2007 · October 2007 · November 2007 · December 2007 · January 2008 · February 2008 · March 2008 · April 2008 · May 2008 · June 2008 · July 2008
Recent blog posts:
Links Barneys refinery29 The Sartorialist Jargol Perfume Shrine Ambre Gris Polyvore The Fashioniste The Powder Group LA-Story.com Dain's Literary Attempts Colleen's Beading Blog Colleen's Adult Acne Blog The Beauty Blog Network
Eponym Blog Directory. TBF Project:Blog
|
Posted by Dain, Friday, February 01, 2008 2:14 PM (Eastern) Approach a Sephora these days, and a sickly sweet miasma rises to greet you, the near visible haze of a mirage. Along the walls array the tinsel-tinted flacons, and the fleet of black-robed automatons to man them. Dragged within this black-and-white candy store for grown-up women, the boyfriends whine, "It smells bad. Can't I wait outside?" But these mewlings fall on deaf ears. It is like an episode of Nature: "Here we see the modern American woman in her natural environment, a-shopping; the shining white of her eye indicates her obliviousness to the demands on the male, who is, perhaps, less than impressed". And yet, in spite of my caricature, there is a definite, growing population of women who shy away from such confectionery trash, and the explosion of niche and exclusive lines intends to match the demands of more discriminating tastes. The reason why some consumers turn their noses at celebrity perfumes and featureless flankers should be obvious: everything smells the same.When it comes to almost everything else, most people prefer to wear what other people wear, with celebrity sanction if possible. The widely commercialized Coco Mademoiselle sells more consistently than Mitsouko (an assumed masterpiece amongst pundits), but nevertheless, perfume tends to be a personal affair. Even the most conventional take pride in the fact that they alone wear that particular scent amongst their entire acquaintance. Given the choice, a woman prefers a unique scent, and it is hardly her fault if the choices fail in that regard. Can you imagine someone coming up the counter and asking, "Hi, I'm looking for a new perfume, what will make me smell like everyone else so I can just, you know, disappear?" The far more likely question is, "Hi, I'm looking for a new perfume, what's special?" To find character in perfumes again, many have fled to niche lines, but niche has its own drawbacks. The first is that hype may not meet the standards of cold hard reality. And the other, where do you even find these obscure lines, other than online where one cannot test firsthand? In my humble experience, reviews are useful, but only to an extent. In perfumery, the imagination o'erleaps itself: one must sniff by oneself, for oneself. Rely on reviews for direction rather than opinion. There might be a perfume, not quite desirable as a whole, but with many admirable elements worth pursuing, and this kind of calculated accident is the method most of us use to find "our" perfumes. Even with Ebay, it is very expensive to subsist on full bottles. Thankfully, there are decants and sample services, and none offers the quality of service, breadth of perfume knowledge, and sheer diversity of offerings as The Perfumed Court, a title that the Sun King once claimed for his own (in addition to everything else). They have nearly everything that jaded noses, shriveled hearts, and covetous claws may demand, from vintage parfums long discontinued to European exclusives. To explore the site is get lost in the possibilities. And this month, they have been gracious enough to sponsor our Beauty Notebook: ![]()
I have noticed that you only occasionally pass value judgment on the scents themselves, just the notes and maybe a bare description (much appreciated because it does not cloud the imagination). But it makes me curious about your personal tastes. Do you four mostly agree on scents, or do you have wildly varying styles? Our tastes are probably as different as the individual population, but I do find the longer you play in perfume, tastes tend to run together to some degree. You can definitely appreciate a well-made scent, whether it is department store, vintage, or high end niche. The magic is in the composition. When done well, even if it doesn't appeal to your personal taste, you can admire the skill and talent that went into making it. The Perfumed Court provides a service unique to few, but it stands out particularly in your comprehensive ability to source rare perfumes. How do you do it? What's the secret to finding a difficult bottle? We all have our specialties. Some of us are great at finding rare vintage things, which takes a tremendous amount of patience and skill. Some of us are good at spotting the latest thing coming from some obscure shop in Europe or having contacts in Europe that will ship to us. Each of us does take a trip to Paris or Europe at least once a year to pick up things that we can't get shipped at all or easily, plus to spot hidden treasures in the stores in Paris and London. It's time consuming and heart-breaking sometimes. Nothing is worse than getting a hold of some obscure Guerlain treasure, opening it and finding out it is alcohol that you paid several hundred dollars for. I know this may be an impossible question, but if you had to stick to just ten must-tries, which ones would top your list? This is harder than you know, and each of us would have four different answers. Here is Lisa's list: People of the Labyrinths Luctor et Emergo, Caron Tabac Blond, Guerlain Vol de Nuit, Shiseido Nombre Noir, Montale Black Aoud, Coty Chypre, Chanel No. 5, Serge Lutens Tubereuse Criminelle, Dior Diorissimo, Thierry Mugler Angel. [Editor's Note: Dangerously close to mine.] If scent is truly the mnemonic sense, then it is quite primal indeed, intimately tied to our identities. We speak of it, sometimes very eloquently, as if they were great paintings or the molecules of science or famous people or lines of music—but in truth that is all purple prose. Our relationship with perfume is more profound than thought, more primitive than language. We wear what we wear for the sentiment it inspires and the cloak of psychological empowerment that descends upon us, but how this process works is a mystery. Many perfumes are worth the appreciation, but as fun, and occasionally eye-opening, flirtation with samples may be, there are deeper, sometimes unaccountable reasons why we commit to any particular bottle. Ultimately, no one can explain the inconsistency of perfume kismet (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3). The same perfume changes according to weather, concentration, vintage, and especially, the wearer. It must battle many, many prejudices; men refusing to wear "feminines", floral-haters (it's ok, I'm a fruit-hater), Saint Serge Lutens, and goddammit Britney, no one wants to smell like you. Nothing could be more subjective, and the mass-market brands are suffering for their lack of understanding, and I really think, for their lack of imagination.Because there is no persuasion quite like the example, I have attempted to choose such samples that would reflect a real individual's experience in the niche world. I am no pundit (far from it), I'll sniff appreciatively at a sample, but when I go to bed, my heart will not ache over Le Labo. I have more modest goals: I just want to find what I really, truly love. But that in itself is quite a feat. These are the parameters to this experiment. No initial house overlap and as few notes in common as possible to ensure the greatest variety in experience. Nevertheless, within a broad category like "bombshell" or "quiet". And most importantly, choices that are based on review hearsay, to evaluate the dangers of buying unsniffed. Since blogs are better in bite-size morsels (a maxim by which I rarely abide), please move onto the second half (to be published on the morrow) for the actual results. Labels: beauty notebook, perfume, samples, the mnemonic sense, the perfumed court |
|
Post a comment (NO SPAM)
Links to this post:
Create a Link