REVIEW Replica Memory Set from Maison Margiela

The Memory Box by Replica, Maison Margiela

UNDER THE LEMON TREE

A strong, rindy lemon with pith against a green verbena background and a buzz of lavender honey. Soapy too, which gives it a not-unpleasant sprinkle of Fairy-magic. As the lemon softens and sweetens, a lush, herby middle notes grows, sunny and joyous. As it dries down, the labdanum honey lavender note gets a little spicy, resting on a woody, white musk base.

Sense of place – 6

WHISPERS IN THE LIBRARY

Fruity beeswax polish with the faint haze of fly spray above shiny, dark woods. The rich, woody accord gradually fades to something more aged and dusty, translating to a dry, humming vanilla note which lingers nostalgically. Like sticking your nose in the spine of a battered hymn book.

Sense of place – 9

FLOWER MARKET

As generic a floral as it gets. Less of a visit to a flower market and more of a visit to the M&S ‘smellies’ department. No fresh-cut green stems, no riot of colour, just your standard rose and white flower mix for mum.

Sense of place – 2

JAZZ CLUB

A cosy, woody tobacco-vanilla scent with a good few fingers of rum. This opens citrussy with a well-rounded leather note, which is warm and welcoming, like a battered, studded highback armchair. The tobacco is very wearable – it’s fragrant and fresh from the pouch with no hint of ashtray, and the rum is the kind that warms rather than intoxicates. But there are none of the unsettling chord changes you might expect from a jazz club. Linear and easy-wearing…nice.

Sense of place – 7

AT THE BARBERS 

The squeaky-clean scent of freshly-scrubbed man. This is a blended medley of laundry musks with a big dollop of ‘blue’ shower gel. It’s not a modern scent – there’s a nostalgically nineties note which adds a bit of a Lynx effect (minus the hormones). After the initial soapy hit, it dries down to reveal a soft lavender with a gently spicy edge. Inherently masculine, but universally wearable.

 Sense of place – 8

SAILING DAY

A classic marine, with no sunny or sandy notes to beach it. Blue, fresh and outdoorsy. Like many sea scents, there’s a synthetic edge which gives a hint of swimming pool as much as seawater. And although this a clean, fresh air fragrance, it includes a big clump of seaweed; briney and sharp. As it dries down, a light musky base emerges from the waves while the bracing sharpness sails on.

Sense of place – 7

LAZY SUNDAY MORNING. 

Fresh-linen musks and rose. Fabric conditioner. Pear. Aldehydes. Not worth staying bed for.

Sense of place – 5

BY THE FIRESIDE

Roasty and cosy, this is the scent of toasted marshmallows and fragrant woodsmoke. This has none of the firey danger of smokey scents like Zoologist’s T-Rex or anything from Beaufort. Rather, it’s a place next to a pub fire; the kind with horsebrasses over the mantle (without the stale hoppy smell). This opens sweeter than expected (there’s that vanilla again), and becomes more so, with a nice spicy edge of pepper and cloves. Then it gets sweeter. And sweeter. And you’re wishing they’d chucked a few more logs on the hearth to give it the woodiness it needs to balance. Then, pooff! The fire’s out and you’re left with a vanilla and ISO E Super skin scent.

Sense of place – 7

SPRINGTIME IN A PARK

Fresh pear and fresh air. This is a squeaky-clean shampoo fruity-floral with little more to it. A light pink scent (visually and olfactorily), it’s definitely a spring floral rather than a summer one. Perfectly pleasant and disappointing for it. Smells like Superdrug.

Sense of place – 3

BEACH WALK

 This is not the scent of a beach, but a scent for the beach. Blooming on warm skin, it’s indulgently floral; waves of heliotrope and jasmine breezing over coconut sunscreen. There’s no fresh salty air to place this beside the seaside. But it’s warm and sunny and wafts little puffs of happy holiday vibes. A poor woman’s Tom Ford’s Soleil Blanc.

Sense of place – 5

So Fetch! by Strangers Parfumerie

 

So, confession time. I’m all GIF and no trousers. I’ve not even seen Mean Girls, which I’m told is the inspiration for this newbie from Strangers Perfumerie.

Neroli, punch, cherry, cranberry, almond, freesia, lipstick, orange flower, honeysuckle, ‘protein bar accord’ (hmm), rose, civet, sugar and musk. 

I’m guessing these are deliberately basic bitch. But I’m happy to wear that if I can wear this perfume.

I love it.

 

It’s not nearly as bubblegum as it makes out. I’m yet to find a cherry scent that I can truly consider sophisticated, but this is waaaay more interesting than your standard Victoria’s Secret sugar hit.

There’s a gloriously-tacky opening lollipop blast which quickly quietens to a fruity, praliney hum. There’s something savoury that cuts the sweetness, giving a hint of depth and intrigue. There be wafer biscuits here, I’m sure of it.

Then, as the scent gradually (be patient) segways into drydown, it gets real. A rose blooms (supported by the civet), the musk floats in on a vanilla cloud, and a strong masculine note that I’m reading as cedramber underpins it all, giving it body and a gentle, persistent sillage. I don’t think this performs brilliantly on skin, but on hair and fabric it lingers interestingly.

There’s a plastic-ness to this fragrance and to love it is to embrace it. There’s no deep and meaningful here. It’s not big, it’s not clever, but it’s all kinds of fun.

So Fetch! from Strangers Parfumerie is £70/30ml.

 

A stellar performance – Experimentum Crucis from Etat Libre D’Orange

ELDO’s latest release – and limited edition – is billed as a scent that transcends the laws of physics, because “love and the trail of a scent are stronger than gravity and time”. Add a sexy trailer with a rousing soundtrack, and it all looks very exciting.

But does it smell as exciting?

Spoiler alert – no, it doesn’t.

Ok, so the bottle is special…

As for the juice? Here are the notes:

Apple, Cumin, Lychee; Honey, Jasmine Absolute, Rose NeoAbsolute, Akigalawood, Musk, Patchouli.

The space odyssey opens with rose rose rose. Lychee? Maybe. I don’t pick it up as an individual note, but there’s something very ‘Thai’ about this rose which is where the lychee may be hiding. Its pairing with the apple makes it rather pretty and very pink. This is a light and flighty kind of rose, not a rich and sexy red.

People have described the rose as being animalic, perhaps thanks to the cumin and honey notes in supporting roles.  But as it dries down, you realise it doesn’t have a ‘living quality’. Instead, it’s dry and thin – a pretty facsimile – a silk rose gathering dust.

Much has been said about its incredible sillage and staying power, and that much is true. For something so delicate, it’s impressively pervasive. I squirted mine once, then could smell the sample coming a mile off. Props to the creator, it’s a technical feat.

But then, so’s the 3rd Lord of the Rings film. And like that, Experimentium Crucis goes on forever, but doesn’t really do anything. It’s too linear to justify its longevity, hanging around like a just-tolerable smell.

Some of the guys at Bloom reckon this is a better version of I Am Trash. I disagree. Les Fleurs du Dechet had a cool development, brief as it was.

Experimentium Crucis is extraordinarily good value if you want the Ariston of roses. But it’s too dry and acrid to be a five-star fragrance. Not sticky or jammy or deep or dark or surprising; just clinical and cold.

It’ll stay with me a long time. But only literally.

 

 

 

The tale of two islands – Chameleon and Dodo from Zoologist

Set sail for two new paradise perfumes

My chameleon encounter

Tropical fruits and flowers, coconut and salty sea breezes – the first sniff of Chameleon is just as you’d expect from its summery notes. It’s a little drop of tropical paradise.

Ylang-ylang dominates the opening, then it swiftly softens and melts into super-soft sun-bleached blend with romantic wafts of blooming night jasmine.

The coconut is rich and sweet, and as the dry-down begins, out of the florals suddenly pops a banana note – not real bananas, but foam candy ones (banana isn’t listed in the notes list, but to my nose, it’s most definitely there, and it’s strong).

Chameleon is soft, pretty and gorgeously tropical – an great scent for seriously hot days. But (mystery banana appearance aside), it’s quite linear. In Chameleon, I was hoping for dramatic shifts and colour changes. The holographic trim on the label is a sweet touch.

If only that iridescence was reflected in the scent.

My dodo discovery

What an odd creature this perfume is. The notes are well-worth taking note of:

Top

Fern  Lime  Lychee  Raspberry

Heart

Ambergris  Fir Balsam  Geranium Rose

Base

Amber  Musk  Oakmoss Patchouli  Sandalwood

I guess it’s a fougere, but a unique one for sure.

The opening has a big strong blast of lychee and raspberry – really mouth-watering. I love lychee and it’s done beautifully in Dodo. I was surprised by how likeable and even dainty it came over on first sniff, expecting something more plodding and grounded.

But as we venture into its heart, the real character of Dodo reveals itself. There’s no trace of the opening and in its place is a a big salty blast of sea breeze. There’s something slightly astringent paired with a defined milk note – not unpleasant, but animalic. But mainly it’s a big, sharp sandalwood, flanked by firs and ferns. Somewhere, off in the distance, I can place the rose geranium. It’s definitely weird. Maybe wonderful.

 

Both Chameleon and Dodo will be released in the UK in mid-March 2019. I tried them out at Bloom Perfumery £145/60 ml EDP.

I Am Trash by Etat Libre D’Orange

It’s odd how good memories attach themselves to bad smells. For me, years of trashy holidays to trashy holiday resorts have indelibly linked the smell of sub-standard drainage infrastructure to top-notch fun. So when Summer rolls round and I get a whiff of sewage, I get a little bump of nostalgia. Sick, but true.

I remember, when I was about 8, I’d go and stay with my cousins in France in the Summer holidays. Oddly, the scent I recall from those times is a very specific French-cheese, overripe fruit smell – not unpleasant. Bruised peaches – sticky, homely and comforting.

With its aesthetic roots in decomposition and wriggling worminess, I expected to get something similar from Les Fleurs du Dechet  / I Am Trash – an overripe, fruity, earthy scent, deep and interesting. I was ready for it.

But what’s grown out of the months of anticipation is something more unexpected.

On first spray there’s a spray of fresh green apple peel, as if the fruit’s being cut up right in front of you. Within seconds, the apple turns to a vibrant, dripping juicy mango. And while you’re getting your head around that, it changes again to a supersweet pineapple. It’s quite the ride around the fruit salad.

Over the next half hour, things calm down a bit, and we take a slower, more measured step – floral notes begin to appear, blending smoothly with soft strawberry tones. This perfume’s nice. It’s EASY. It might even be a crowd-pleaser.

But then, like a weed pushing up, Les Fleurs du Dechet / I Am Trash grows out of the benign and becomes something wilder and untamed. To call it a dry-down feels wrong, because it gets richer and riper; the fruit turns, growing ever-sweeter, greener and fermenting. It takes time, but it rots as it blossoms.

And then, just as things were getting interesting, it fades into a pretty skin scent.

I’m confused. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or enchanted.

There’s incredible artistry in the opening. How can a scent be designed to spin through so many distinctive fruits in seconds? And the way that freshness gives way so fast to more luscious, mulchy tones is remarkable; just as in Ogilvy’s time-lapse video, we experience decay in hyper-speed.

And then it all just…disappears.

Maybe that’s the point.

You can try and buy I Am Trash / Les Fleurs du Dechet at Bloom Perfumery in Covent Garden. 50ml EDP for £82, 100ml for £115. 

Upcycled and zero-waste notes:

Akigalawood  

Apple  

Atlas Cedar 

Iso-E-Super  

Rose Absolute 

Sandalore

It’s a monster! – Tyrannosaurus Rex from Zoologist

T-Rex on Bloom’s go-to NEW shelf

It’s in the trees…it’s coming 

T-Rex bursts into the clearing meaning business. There’s a crash of deep dark woods, along with a cloying sweetness; a rich, meaty opening, dripping with the metallic edge of blood. And then the fire starts. It crackles and spits; burnt fruits caramelising with charred BBQ. There are flowers here – champaca and ylang ylang, along with fresh green saplings – but they’re crushed underfoot as the fire takes over.

The fruitiness holds, but it’s overwhelmed with smoke, underpinned by a menacing, animalic leather. This is the T-Rex as the asteroid hits, the volcanoes erupt and it all goes to shit. Things are getting quite exciting.

Then suddenly….all is calm. T-Rex makes a bold entrance, but after crashing onto the scene, things start to level out swiftly. After just minutes, it melds into a super-smoky, multi-faceted fragrance.

And as the drydown progresses, it becomes almost warm and cuddly – with charred sandalwood, beauty emerges alongside the beast. The monster turns into a gentle giant, soft but testosterone-heavy, sweet with just the undertone of menace.

THE NOTES

Top:  Bergamot, Black Pepper, Fir balsam, Laurel Leaf, Neroli, Nutmeg

Heart: Champaca, Geranium, Jasmine, Osmanthus, Rose, Ylang ylang

Base: Resins, Cade, Cedar, Civet, Frankincense, Leather, Patchouli, Sandalwood, Vanilla

Cretaceous imaginings aside, this is the scent of journeying home after a festival; the scuzzy scent of last night’s rum oozing from your pores into your leather jacket, your hair reeking of campfire.

T-Rex is everything I expected. I wish it had been everything I’d hoped, too. It was always going to be challenging, but I SO wanted to be able to wear it – how cool would it be, when asked, to say you’re wearing T-Rex?

I can’t pull this off. Others could. When it comes to Zoologist, I’m definitely a hummingbird kind of person. Or maybe moth. No, hummingbird. Moth. Dammit, will someone please just buy me both?!

You can try and buy T-Rex at T-Rex at Bloom in Covent Garden, £175 for 60ml extrait de parfum.

 

Over the Chocolate Shop by 4160 Tuesdays – review

Over the Chocolate Shop from 4160 Tuesdays

Another new 4160 Tuesdays fragrance. Another blind buy. I told myself that I could always pass it on. I don’t NEED a chocolate scent.

I don’t NEED to eat a whole chocolate orange, either. But as I’m polishing off that delicious flakey core (and it is the most delicious part), I know what I need doesn’t really matter. Chocolate is desire and impulse and excess, and all of that’s bottled in this scent.

Over the Chocolate Shop is indie perfumer Sarah McCartney’s latest incarnation of one of her earliest fragrances, made for her goddaughter who lived in a house on top of a chocolate shop. It’s a reworking with superior ingredients including cocoa extract, hazelnut CO2 extract, vanilla absolute and coffee extract. She says she’s ‘happy with it now’. I’m glad. It makes me happy too. 

Although it’s so cocoa-supercharged it’ll have Augustus Gloop pulling his trunks on, this chocolate experience is no guilt-inducing Dairy-milk binge. Over the Chocolate Shop is grown-up, quality stuff. A proper gourmand, and like White Queen, indulgent without the sweetness.

Like an 85% cocoa solids bar from Rabot Estate, you only need a little bit to feel satisfied.

Zero calories. No regrets.

Batch number 1 sold out in under 24 hours. Batch number 2 is macerating right now, from £35 for 30ml. Be quick – it’ll go like hot chocolate. 

Joy by Dior – review

So dull, Dior couldn’t be arsed to come up with a name for it

They say:

“Constructed with multiple nuances, a myriad of facets that lead to an expression that is clear and self-evident…”

I say:

“Yeah, I have nothing to say about it either”.

How to improve your sense of smell – Perfume Society workshop

Can you really improve your sense of smell?

Turns out it’s the only sense you can. So I rocked up at the Perfume Society’s event, which lifts the lid on techniques used by perfumers as they train to memorise the 4000-odd notes that make up their artist’s palette.

The workshop was at Jovoy in Mayfair – it’s got an intimidating-looking storefront that belies the affable service inside.

Jovoy boasts a LOT of exclusive lines. So it’s worth calling on the friendly staff to help you navigate the array of expensive-looking (and actually expensive) scents.

“What’s the best one?”, I overheard a shopper asking (handled with amusingly good grace, not that I was earwigging). As a rule, I’d suggest giving more of a steer on your personal tastes. But this actually wasn’t that silly a question. Among their massive selection of fragrances, many seem to pitch in the same field – oodles of oud, blinged-up bottles, eye-watering price tags. They’ve got the Mayfair-tourist marked. But there are three things I loved:

1. Free sample service. Maybe we got some special treatment, but I’ll love anywhere that lets me walk out with a little clinking organza bag of freebies
2. Stacks of blotter strips and PENCILS galore
3. Bottles labelled with core notes. It really helps you shortlist your testers. Plus, you can play Note Bingo – sniff blind, then turn the bottle over to see if you’ve won.

After a good nosey about, a velvet rope was lifted and we went down to the workshop.

We kicked off with the jelly bean experiment. You hold your nose, chew a jelly bean, then let go of your nose to experience the rush of flavour. It’s designed to show how important smell is in how we experience taste.

I’ve done this exercise before at 4160 Tuesday’s workshops, and I would never have got through a childhood of cheese-based teas at friends’ houses without this little trick. But I’ll never turn my nose up at a jelly bean. And it doesn’t hurt to remind yourself of the interconnectedness of our senses – and to be on-our-knees-grateful for the incredible olfactory powers we hold in our schnozzes.

The next couple of hours were an exploration of those very super-skills. We blind-sniffed our way through six wildly different fragrances, spending time with each one to ponder on its innate character. Not the notes, nor the composition, but writing freely about its colour, associations, emotional make-up.

The idea is, there’s no wrong answer – it’s all about your personal experience. What smelled to me like a gardener’s gloriously grubby fingers repelled the next person by its similarity to bathroom cleaner. But the practice of free-association and most importantly, WRITING IT ALL DOWN is what, with practice, creates memory pathways, training your nose to pick up and grow to understand perfumes and the artistry behind them.

The idea of smelling stuff to get better at smelling stuff seems obvious. But it doesn’t work unless you do it. If nothing else, the Perfume Society’s workshop is a great opportunity to spend quality time with perfumes you might otherwise have overlooked, and to practice the practice of sniffing, among lovely people who love perfume. That’s a very pleasant way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

The Perfume Society hold workshops in London and around the rest of the UK. Places are £10 for members and £25 for non-members.

Holy smokes – Zoologist are launching a T-REX scent?!

What on cretaceous earth does a Tyrannosaurus Rex smell like? Only a couple of months’ wait to find out. This Autumn, Zoologist are releasing a T-Rex fragrance and I am ridiculously over-excited. This boots Etat Libre D’Orange’s ‘I am Trash’ right off the top spot as my most hotly awaited scent of this Autumn.

Following their stunning recent releases Moth and Hyrax, I can only hope Zoologist stay on their roll for this one and I can’t wait to hear the notes. My guesses: got to be lots of thick, green jungly things. Ferns.  Probably some big shouty florals too (apparently the cretaceous era was when flowering plants stared to emerge, and – new fact alert –  Tyrannosaurus Rex had a surprisingly highly developed sense of smell). It’s got to be packed with animalics –  leather? Perhaps even a touch of something sulphurous and volcano-ey?

There’s got to be loads of resinous amber (for the dino DNA) and maybe a big dollop of Jeff Goldblum for smoothness. Maybe. Can’t wait.