New Beginnings

 It has recently occurred to me (although occurred is too passive a word for any of the realisations this year has brought)that theme and consistency just aren’t quite working for me. 

Not at the moment anyway. 

Certainly, I’ve stuck to things in the past, stuck like glue. But all I can really stick to now is the actual act of doing whatever it is that I’m doing. What I read will not always be in my usual genres, what I write might not be what I used to write, what I paint might be different to what I would have painted a few years ago. 

In short, I’ve changed. 

In truth, we all have. 

The selves we used to know intimately, completely have slipped away to make way for new selves. 2019 feel like another era, not just another year. It’s possible that as the oft quoted line from “The Go-Between” almost says “The past is another country” and one we can’t go back to. 

So, time to start over. 

Where do I begin? 

I suppose, with the things that go on. Do I still love art and history and literature? Yes, yes, yes to all of those! Am I a social butterfly? No. I wasn’t before and I’m even less so now. My social anxiety has social anxiety at the moment and I have no idea how long that will take to rebuild, but there you go. 

 Do I still like vintage clothes? Yes, in a new floaty, I don’t want anything to pinch or nip after a year of wearing indoor dresses. Yes, in a pass me all the soft, pretty, pastel colours I hardly ever wore before because right now I want to feel like a meadow, or a drifting stream.

 Do I still write? Yes, but differently. I mean, I’ve even been experimenting with the first person narrator (unreliable ones too) which I used to hate and now… No idea why that changed. Maybe, I’m just enjoying escaping into other peoples minds for a little while? Whatever it is, I’ll roll with it, that and occasionally using that most horrific of things to my uni creative writing tutor: the present tense. I can’t describe how much he hated present tense. I can’t describe how much I no longer care! 

Am I still creating art? 

OH YES! Though it’s gotten both cuter and, err, spookier recently. There will be festive ghostie images appearing later in the year if that floats your boat or the boat of anyone you know, love, or count as a frenemie. 

And now we come to that last big question. It’s probably the most relevant question in terms of this blog too. 

Am I still wearing perfume? 

Well… 

Ahhh… 

Yes… 

Sort of. In short it’s lots of roses. I’m loving rose perfumes all day, all year round. 

I’m dipped in Elizabethan rose from Penhaligons, drenched in Ralph Lauren’s Romance, dabbing on Yardley’s English rose (it’s actually pretty delightful for a scent so ubiquitous so do try it out). I’m here for all the roses, and I’m being completely comforted by them. 

Will I change from roses? 

Eventually, just not yet. So, if I talk about perfumes, they are going to be rose perfumes and that’s just one of those inescapable facts. 

So, there it is, the start of the start, what’s written on the other side of that new leaf.I hope, whoever you are now you find happiness and joy. I’m certainly questing after those particular questing beasts on a daily basis!

The blood is the life. An ever so slightly Gothic perfume review...

 "Come in, I bid you welcome" 

So, here you stand on the threshold of that delightful Transylvanian castle where you are supposed to be drawing up some legal papers for the Count who resides there. It hasn't been an easy journey, has it? Not with the driver kicking you out of the coach and the locals being so unwelcoming. Not to mention the wolves in the woods, how they howl and wail all through the dark hours of night! But you are here now: journey's end, It could be a little more welcoming, there are no warm and comforting lights at the windows, no homely sounds from within and along with the mist which has been almost omnipresent since you stepped from the train a day ago, there is a curious metallic, moist scent here that you are struggling to place. 

I wouldn't think about that too hard, not if I were you. 

No, what I'd do is take hold of that bell pull and... well... pull it? How deeply that bell's sound seems to echo within! But, you have summoned someone, there are footsteps getting closer, and closer and, just as you are about to faint, the door creaks open. There's a blinding sliver of light and then you can make out that the light comes from a candelabra held in the hand of a surprisingly handsome (one might even say, devilishly handsome) gentleman who, it turns out is the Count himself. He might not be in the first flush of youth, but he's cut from the same cloth as a Greek god. A real silver fox, or should that he wolf? 

What the castle lacks in welcome outside, it more than makes up for inside. There are rich velvet drapes, gilded frames (oddly, without a single mirror in sight) and bright, woven carpets on the floor. In the fireplace, a fire crackles and smokes quite comfortingly. From the ruined castle chapel wafts the warm, dense scent of incense swung, long ago, in bejewelled censors.  Ah, and there is wine waiting for you on a table! 

How kind the Count is! 

However, that metallic scent lingers still, although it been joined by such a symphony of other odours that you don't find it at all unpleasant anymore, just one facet of an old house which has stood for many centuries, which has accumulated it's own delicious darkness. 

If you want to get a sense of Bloody Woods by Liquides Imaginaires, than I hope I've managed to impart a slight sense of it with that little sensory picture in prose. This is a gorgeous Carpathian castle of a perfume; a perfume which imbues the skin with a sweet, spicy, blend of violet and woody notes from the outset and slowly deepens and expands to include more penetrating layers of wine (and this is wine that feels as if it has lain long in the cask, soaking up the wood and the centuries) and ripening fruit. It's a late autumnal scent, holding within it some of the golden hour between the sun setting and twilight's blue hours. An hour or two later, the perfume shifts again into a powdery layer of incense, still sweetly tinged, but now taking on just a little more of the metallic edge you realise was always there. No wonder it's called Bloody Wood, you think. This wood's sap runs very red indeed and not just with the wine. And yet all these notes seem contained by a chill note, something crisp and cold, as if  all those other rich notes were reverberating of  cold, creamy stone walls. 

As the perfume dries down and begins to fade the reverberation becomes more and more like an echo, you are descending deeper into the castle now, hypnotised by it. And you don't regret the hypnotism, no, not one bit. Just as you don't regret looking into the Count's dark, albeit slightly bloodshot eyes as he swore he loved you, loved you to death, in fact.

Within a few hours, of course, the fire will have died low, the night will be creeping in, the wolves will be singing in chorus and the perfume will have died down to an echo of it's echo; the shadow of it's shadow. 

Just a few hours and it will have faded away entirely. Oh, say six or seven; long enough. That moment when you just might find yourself standing at a crossroads with the moon high and silver above you and you look around to see that the castle is so far off in the distance, far beyond the woods. Were you ever really there? Was it a dream? And then you put a hand to your throat and realise that there are two little scars just there and you aren't imagining those. And there's a bottle weighing down your pocket, your very own magic elixir in the form of perfume. Just one spray and you'll have made a choice. Just one spray and you'll be right back there at the castle door.

You shrug as you uncap the bottle and lift the spray to your throat. 

It was inevitable, one sniff and you will want to return.   

A return to reviews...

With the heatwave of July and August fading away into a distant, though still unpleasant memory, I finally feel like experimenting with perfume again. I know that it may sound ridiculous, but when the heatwave was at it's height I was only able to indulge myself with a few delicate favourites. Soft, light scents were a must and I clung to the calming cool breeze of aldehydes. Spicy perfumes and new additions to the olfactory landscape were quite impossible.
Today, however, I dug out a little vintage bottle of Worth's Ver Toi and am currently luxuriating in it's light woody loveliness. It's given me that perfume sample itch again and caused so many thoughts to rise to the top of my mind. So, this Autumn, there will be a return to perfume reviews on this blog. There will also be diversions and digressions, no doubt, into many other subjects. 

Apologies for my long absence...

Apologies for my long absence from the blogosphere. Alas, life has been rather hectic recently and inspiration has eluded me, buried beneath a deluge of real life problems to be dealt with. Sadly, this post will, by necessity, be short since there are still things which need doing this Bank Holiday weekend. Hopefully, I will be back to longer posts next week.
 However, whilst I have been absent, I have not been idle. In April I managed to complete Camp NaNoWriMo and return to the pleasure of writing poetry, I've been reading some wonderful books (everything from Michel de Montaigne to Angela Carter) and this week I even found time to make myself a Summer dress (see pictures below).

© H.Cox 2018

© H.Cox 2018

For now, I shall leave you with a blog recommendation for those who love reading, writing and historical fiction: 

The History Girls Blog

So many wonderful articles on this blog, so if you've never stumbled across it before, do.

And, as for perfume recommendations: try Imaginary Authors delicious perfume Violet Disguise.
It's the most delightful woody, earthy violet perfume, ideal for midsummer nights. 

November, perfume and writing inspiration...

So, November has arrived and we are tiptoeing closer and closer to the chill of winter. November 1st is also the start of something else, the epic writing challenge which is NaNoWriMo. This year will be my third year attempting NaNoWriMo which, to clarify is the attempt to write a first draft of 50,000 words between November 1st and 30th. It's a breathtaking and thrilling thing to do (as is the necessary editing to make those 50,000 words readable after November).

Certainly, during this month it is utterly necessary to keep up one store of inspiration and enthusiasm. I know many writers like to keep themselves motivated with a suitable playlist of writing music. However, I am rarely inclined to write to music (if the music is integral to the story I wish to tell that is a different matter, whilst writing an opera inspired story I had the beautiful La Traviata playing on a loop). For me, it is perfume which provides much of my inspiration.
More than that, without giving too much away I will say that the title of my NaNo novel and many of the character and place names within take direct inspiration from perfumery. Notes have become names and perfumes have become destinations.

It's a method which suits the story I wish to tell very well on this occasion. The settings, market places and palaces, are rich in scents and smells. The characters I am writing about would never dream of taking a bath without dropping in a little perfume or sitting down to eat a meal without ensuring that it has been lightly seasoned and spiced with rare and luxurious new flavours. In short, I am attempting to create an opulent atmosphere. Though, I am afraid that I am guilty of rather opulent writing on all occasions, perhaps, even verging upon the dreaded purple prose).

So, in aide of inspiration, today I am drenched (lightly) in Ambre Imperial from Van Cleef and Arpels, a peppery sweet amber scent with a smoky edge. It's a perfume as exotic and romantic as the atmosphere I am currently trying to write. Heart notes of vanilla conjure rich  plates of dessert, woody notes in the base suggest a winter fire roaring whilst the snow falls outside, the fleeting fresh scent of bergamot in the top notes brings to life a splendid, sun draped summers day when, perhaps, words of love will be whispered between main characters.
     It's the perfect perfume for today's writing; and, tomorrow, another perfume will take it's place as inspiration. For now, however, I must return to my writing...

Les Cocottes de Paris...

If I asked you to imagine Paris in the nineteenth century, I am sure that many things would spring to your mind; from the novels of Victor Hugo to the towering beauty of the Eiffel tower but I am sure that, eventually, your thoughts would turn to the Demi Monde.
A legend in it's own right, the world of the Moulin Rouge, of Toulous Lautrec paintings, of arias from La Traviata and, above all, a world of scandalous and inspiring courtesans.

This is the world and the women which Les Cocottes de Paris have tried, so beautifully, to capture in their range of perfumes. As far as I am concerned, the result is a delicious success,
La Castiglione, named for the famed lover of Emperor Napoleon III whose experiments with photography have given her an almost mythic status and whose rumored influence over the unification of Italy proves that she was a political force to be reckoned with. She graces the cover of the Penguin Classics edition of "Confessions of a child of the century", peeping out from the oval of a photo frame turned mask. She has become internet avatars and exhibition posters. Her legend is secured by the sheer beauty and daring of the image she created for herself. Her perfume, appropriately, is rich patchouli, anchored by depths of musk and ambergris. This is the perfume of Charles Baudelaries haunting poem, Le Flacon, the intense, memory stirring perfume, whose earthy scent cannot be contained by a mere glass flacon. This is a perfume of the evening certainly, but it could be worn all day long, especially in the Autumn and Winter when it's warmth would surround the wearer in a veritable velvet stole.

La Belle Otero, is a  decadently dirty violet scent. Otero claimed that she dished herself up, at a banquet in St. Petersburg, au natural. If so, she must have been nestled on a bed of Parma Violets.
The violet has always had something of a naughty reputation and their appeal is strengthened here by the headiness of Sandalwood in the base; the very scent which her friend, the writer Colette, claimed La Belle Otero perspired as she danced. Wild and delicious evenings of Spanish dances are conjured in a few notes of beguiling musk and neroli. It's a perfume of summer heat and the dazzle of warmth creeping like fingers on your skin.  It was Colette too who described La Belle as luxurious and that's certainly an impression which comes through with every note of this perfume.
A faint note of sadness runs through the joy of this composition; an appropriate note given the bittersweet nature of La Belle Otero's life whose details I shall not venture into here, but, as is common with a hint of sadness, it serves to make the sweetness all the more joyful.

The final perfume in Les Cocottes collection is as delectable at it's inspiration, the Ballet dancer Chloe Merode. This perfume is a light, floral bouquet with a heart of rose. It's coy and flirtatious, hiding behind a light veil of bergamot before the roses gather strength and come into their own sprawling on a base of fleshly laundered cotton sheets with just an edge of earthy lichen. This is a perfume that creeps up on you with the light whisper of silk ballet slippers but, like the ballet and it's beautiful dancers, it conceals hidden depths and inner strengths. A froth of tulle and a soul of steel. A perfume for the romantic heart if ever there was one.

I've adored testing all three of these perfumes; they are, without a doubt, a beautiful collection. They encapsulate a time with which I am utterly in love, whose art and literature are always in my heart, how could I not adore them.  If I have favourites, I would never even dare to whisper it, I would hate to offend any of these beautiful Mademoiselles, but certain notes do beckon to me from these compositions! One thing that I can assure you of, if you try this collection, you are certain to be seduced by at least one of these perfumes.

A Rose by any name... Part One.

With a single, poetic, flourish Shakespeare reminds us how beautiful the rose is, that was his talent.          The talent of all Roses it seems is to provide breathtaking beauty and romantic allegory. Yet the rose has many faces, many moods and every perfume which bears the name of rose reflects some different facet of the mythology of roses.

        “The Red rose breaths of passion 

          and the white rose breaths of love”

 As the poet John Boyle O’Reilly put it; although, in terms of perfumery that is a simplification too far.
       Because there are so many different facets of rose perfumery, I have decided to divide my post on rose perfumes into two and post the two halves over two weeks, In this, my first rose post, I want to review two of my current favourites of what one might call the romantic rose before exploring the genre of deliciously morbid rose scents next week.

     It may have something to do with the book I’m working on, whose title, taken from a poem by Robert Herrick, provides a constant reminder of the evocative nature of roses each time I open the document; or, it may simply be that Roses are hard to resist but I have been wearing a lot of rose perfumes lately. Especially the warm, evocative scents of summer roses in full bloom. Not the expensive, overly perfect roses piled high for Valentines day (I think, next weeks post might be a better place to delve into the symbolism of red roses on such a saints day) but the living, pulsating roses that still bear a trace of rain, sun and their own sharp thorns in their kisses.

                                                  Image via Wikimedia Commons.

    One of the most beautiful fragrances which I have discovered lately and which , for me, fits this genre is: Raw Silk and Red Roses from Sarah McCartney’s 4160 Tuesdays. On their site, the perfume is described as "A walk through a rose garden, with a touch of geranium, patchouli, musk and fruits." and that is just what the composition evokes for me; a garden on a late summer afternoon trailing, via an exquisite rose and gold sunset, into one of those perfect heavy blue evenings which only summer can paint. Cups of green tea, the rustle of a silk dress as it falls coolly around your skin, golden light in the sky and the roses shedding their scent are all evoked as notes of warm musk and sharp geranium unfold around an intense, perfect rose. At times it feels as if the rose is tearing it's way, dashingly, through it's wrapping of silk, ready to plant an intense kiss on ones lips. For me there's a little edge of promising, and very romantic, spiciness about the composition too,  I could bathe in this perfume quite happily and yet, fickle perfume lover that I am, I have been unfaithful to this rose with others.

     With my second romantic rose choice for instance. Lipstick Rose from Editions De Parfums Frederic Malle is a pure distillation of glamour. Naturally, it appealed to my love of vintage. Never without my own red lipstick I was enraptured by the soft, sweet scent of this perfume. Rose and violet top notes play beautifully together on a base that comes through deeply amber to my nose and keep the whole composition in tune with a delightful longevity. Inspired by the scent of perfumer Ralf Schweiger's mother's lipstick it weaves a familiar spell for anyone who has ever clicked open a powder compact or vanity case in a vintage shop (since the original smell fades with time, I have topped uo my vintage compacts interior with a light spritz of Lipstick Rose so that I can inhale it's beauty each time I refresh my make-up). It's a perfume which feel real and human because of it's cosmetic smell. It's never without the essence of the woman wearing the perfume, wearing the lipstick. Her smile bleeds through Cheshire cat like and makes the fragrance her own as surely as a lipstick signature on a mirror marks out her territory. I confess, when I wear Lipstick Rose on my skin, one spritz is never enough! If you love vintage, old movies, even satcks of brittle but still magnificent fashion magazines then Lipstick Rose may just be the perfume for you!
      Well, that my two favourite romantic roses reviewed; hopefully, I have put my passion for them across! Next week, there will be more from Malle and others as the rose grows a little gothic...

A scent of snow and pine...

Christmas may be receding into memory but the winter weather hasn't  left us yet, if anything it’s gotten colder out there so it is time, perhaps, for some scented indulgences to chime with the crispness of falling snow or warm us up with fire and spice we can wear close to our hearts.

I’ve picked out the six perfumes which most remind me of winter.

If you’re longing for the sharp crispness of snow brushing your face then I think La Fille de Berlin by Serge Lutens brilliantly captures that exquisite feeling.

Fille De Berlin is the most delicate snowflake of a perfume by which I do not mean that the perfume is light, although it is suitably subtle. No, I mean that from the first moment I smelt it, it reminded me of a winter’s day, two or three years ago when it began to snow whilst I was out shopping. Perfect crystal flakes danced down out of a sky suddenly radiant Madonna blue, flakes large enough that, when they settled on the dark sleeves of my coat, revealed each detail of their intricate crystalline structure without the need for a magnifying lens.

That is Fille de Berlin to me, delicate, intricate and the embodiment of snow. Its notes are simple and dazzlingly effective: rose and geranium layered over patchouli and honey. 

The other stand out snow perfume, in my opinion, has to be Floris’s Snow Rose which feels as if the frost has embraced a single bloom. Snow Rose starts off a little greener than Fille de Berlin and with vanilla rather than La Fille’s honey note providing the slight sweetness of winter air but with an equally crisp, fresh geranium note.

However, if you’ve seen too much of snow and it’s left you shivering you just might want to turn to a perfume that’s going to warm you up rather than bring in the weather then there are plenty of perfumes that fit the bill with their spicy warmth and smoky depths.

Annick Goutals Encens Flamboyant has all the sharp woodiness of an open fire conveyed in intense notes of incense alongside pepper, nutmeg and balsam fir. You can almost hear this perfume crackling invitingly as you curl up in your favourite chair. The pure perfume is stunning in its depth and longevity but the eau de parfume equals it for staying power and for sillage so that you can be sure that your blanket of winter warmth is following you wherever you go.

Equally reminiscent of winter to me is Coco by Chanel with its citrus and spice notes reminds me of the Christmas Pudding scene from Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol, “In half a minute Mrs Cratchit entered: flushed, but smiling proudly: with the pudding, like a speckled cannon ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half-a-quartern of ingnited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck in the top.” One can’t help but envy the skill with which Dickens conjures, in a few lines, a pudding one can almost smell, almost taste on the tip of your tongue! It’s also a perfume reminiscent of the clove studded oranges which perennially adorn the pages of lifestyle magazines in December as well as our own Christmas tree this year. Not entirely surprising as clove and Mandarin orange are both notes in Coco’s composition. Coco is a perfume which just invites compliments whenever you wear it so you’d better be prepared for people to ask you what you’re wearing pretty often (the appreciation of others is no real hardship though, is it).

I’m going to be a little naughty now because my next winter perfume choice is something a little rare but very special. If you are lucky enough to find a bottle in ebay, at a flea market, in a vintage store, anywhere in fact, then treasure it.

My fifth, and possibly favourite, winter perfume is: Winter Delice by Guerlain.

Like Encens Flamboyant, Winter Delice is a strong and sensual balsamic perfume bursting with the warm embrace of pine tree branches and resin but snow has settled on this Winter landscape, it’s chill breath just creeping in with a note of vanilla (always so good at conjuring snow) and sugar. It’s such a rich perfume that it feels like it demands you acquire a sleigh and velvet cloak at once. Although I happen to think that you can get away with this perfume even when you are not all dresses up; in a jumper (sweater) and jeans you could use a few spray of Winter Delice to feign a sportive walk in the woods. Or wear it all dressed up and unleash your inner Snow Queen.   

Now, I have two last, very indulgent, winter perfume suggestion: if you’re hungering after the indulgent desserts and sweets of Christmas still but have a New Year resolution you’d like to keep then L’Artisan Perfumers Traversee du Bosphore should help to assuage the cravings of a sweet tooth. It’s notes of nougat, sugar, honey, pistachio, red apple and spices would make as beautiful an ice cream as they do a perfume! Also worth trying if you crave the sweetness of Christmas dessert with a hint of snow is Coudray's Vanille et Coco which smells exactly as it's name suggests and is very charming.

Well, those are my winter perfume choices, I hope you've seen something you like, Or at least something which feels like winter to you. 

I wish you all a warm and beautifully perfumed winter!        

The perfumed costume...

All Hallows eve is upon us.
Tread not at crossroads tonight but remember to leave out milk for the spirits (and the witches cats).  Scry your fortune in a looking glass but beware what the future may hold!
Remember too that the most important decision of Halloween is: what to wear.
I don’t mean costumes; although, feel free to indulge yourselves as much as you like in the revelry of masking and disguise.
Personally, I favour a costume of velvet and black lace for myself; Vampirella turned up to maximum, Morticia Adams and Angela Carter’s “The Lady of the House of Love” going all Miss Haversham in her wedding dress and sunglasses.
No, I digress, I mean perfumes. Those olfactory statements written in molecules that say so much about us, or about the character we’re acting out on any given day. Whatever your Halloween costumes is, it's just begging to be taken to new heights by the addition of the right perfumes. So, I thought I'd take a little look at a few of the options.
Today, my perfume poison of choice is an old favourite: Ambre Fétiche perfume by Annick Goutal. I’ve raved about this perfume often on Facebook but only because I love it so.

Ambre Fétiche is all the rich, sensual and dark scents of winter and antiquity. No one ever loved antiquity more than the immortal. In his notes for a stage version of Dracula reproduced in Christopher Frayling’s book, “Vampyres” Stoker suggests these creatures of the night can only be moved by artifacts which pre-date them whilst the gramophone and telephone leave them cold.
It's also an intensely seductive perfume with it's notes of incense, amber, benzoin and deep heart of leather and patchouli.  In pure perfume form it's a heavy veil of fragrance with (appropriately) impressive longevity.
If you want to amp up the intensity and the seduction then you could add a light spray of Demeter’s Musk over the top although I confess to finding their musk a little coy when it could be wicked. Then again, what could be more appropriate than than a spritz from a perfume house which shares it’s name with the very ship which bought Dracula to Whitby?
If you’re looking for a Vampiric perfume to finish off your costume then don’t forget too that The Clarimond Project (into whose archives I’ve only recently, and with great pleasure, begun to dip) has given us all sorts of olfactory evocations of that beautiful Vamps story.
As for that most famous of Transylvania Vampires, I have a feeling that the Count (especially Gary Oldman’s tormented, lovesick hero)  would probably wear Blood Concept O Cruel Incense with all it’s delicious connotations.
Of course Blood Concept might work for those hoping to emulate Mary Shelley’s Dr Frankenstein too although not if you’re taking inspiration from the Dr’s creation as I fancy Adam, with his refined taste in literature, would reach for a seriously refined and literary perfume. Perhaps De Profundis from Serge Lutens would appeal to Adam? If unsure, he could always split a bottle with Dorian Gray who I’m sure would lap it up.
But then, I can imagine Dorian that great lover of perfume experimenting with all manner of modern perfumes. Etat Libre d’Orange’s new release Attaquer la Soliel Marquise De Sade might have arrived on his dressing table as a gift from Lord Henry Wooton the one man in London who knows Dorian and his sins so well.  There may even be a few bottles of more innocent perfumes like Penhaligon’s Elizabethan Rose pushed to the back of that same dressing table, gifts from poor Basil Haywood whose tragedy was to see the best in Dorian. Do those bottles still prompt the odd tear to fall from painted eyes I wonder?
I'm afraid my attempts to scent Jekyll and Hyde have failed, they simply cannot, would not agree on a perfume or even a genre of perfume. But that's the danger of having two people share one body I suppose...
However, I can suggest one dark, intense perfume for every fiend and friend alike (especially those on a budget): Brocard's Queen of Spades Modern, it's licorice and Cherry and jet black juice are perfect and what a pretty bottle.

Well, I shall leave you now, for me and for many others, Halloween is but the prelude for something far more terrifying: NaNoWriMo. Yes, for only the second year I’ll be endeavouring to turn out the first draft of a novel in just 30 days…

Fragrance Friday becomes Scented Saturday...

Bonjour, I hope everyone is having a lovely weekend as I welcome you to a scented Saturday on the blog. Usually my perfume posts appear on a Friday, but this week a combination of a hectic Friday and having lots of samples I wanted to get through meant I pushed my perfume post back a day but kept the alliteration.

Why so many samples; well, it's a combination of samples ordered from Les Senteurs which I've been trying one by one since they arrived at the start of the week and a charming, generous charity idea on the part pf my local department store. So, this week I ended up with a box of samples and decided to combine them into one post. 

Let us begin then with something rather stunning: Etat Libre d'Orange's Hermann A Mes Cotes. This sample was ordered after I saw The Candy Perfume Boy's recommendation on Facebook and his fabulous review (Candy Perfume Boy's Review). Oh, this perfume is so gorgeous! I'm not even really going to try to review it, I'll leave that to the maestro, what I am going to say is this: if you have not tried Hermann yet then do! It's the deepest red rose with a truffle heart and wonderful longevity. It's dark, mysterious and ideal for winter. I'd also like to add how much Etat Libre has impressed me lately. I have loved a number of their perfumes and I never thought that was going to happen back in the days when I started getting into perfume and their brand was known primarily for the scandalous and highly unsuitable as a Christmas gift, Secretions Magnifique (just an interesting note, I recently chatted with a lady who loves it by the way, described it so beautifully too). 

But let us move on, my second perfume sample was La Religieuse by Serge Lutens. If anything this perfume is the opposite of Hermann, whilst H warms you up, La Religieuse is the chill snowstorm raging outside with only the comforting scent of incense from a local church breaking through the ice to  remind you that the cold of winter will soon pass. Again, this one is beautiful. It captures the story it sets out to convey in a few divine notes of musk, incense and jasmine and lingers beautifully on skin (less so on a blotter but perfume was meant to be worn against the skin, against the pulse). I suppose it was always going to work for me as I adore incense perfumes. Comme des Garcon's intense and beautiful Avignon is one of my all time favourite perfumes, an acknowledged instant classic. 

 However, I think the time has come to explain my other samples of the week a little more. So, I popped into afore mentioned department store last weekend to have a sniff of Anais Anais by Cacharel and noticed they were selling bundles of four samples for £1.00 for breastcancernow.org I have no intention of going into detail here but it's a charity I have good reason to support and obviously I love perfume samples so perfect match. So, I bought £10.00 worth of samples and have found some real gems amongst them: Million by Paco Rabanne turns out to be far nicer than I had expected, Pop by Stella McCartney is a lovely heavy tuberose but my absolute favourite so far has to be: Givenchy's Gentlemen Only Absolute. 

I am a firm believer that there's no such thing as a gendered perfume so the fact that this is marketed as a men's perfume does not up me off in the slightest. Would Marlene Dietrich have walked away from such a perfume? Non.

Gentlemen Only Absolute is a heavy, spicy Oriental with a heart rich in cinnamon, saffron and nutmeg. The cinnamon comes through strongly on my skin entwined with the base notes of vanilla and sandalwood whilst the bergamot top note proves fleeting (fine with me, it's the spices I love most about this composition). It's certainly not a tweeds and brogues fragrance, more of a velvet tuxedo and brocade waistcoat perfume.

I've fallen in love with it! In fact I'm wearing it right now

Finally, my last perfume sample, La Fille De Berlin.

Simple, spicy, rose and pepper that conjures a snowy rose out of simplicity and presents it in a rose jam red juice. I think I may be as in love with the colour of this perfume as I am with it's smell! I'll be wearing this again at the close of the month when the chill of winter begins to bite and a sharp red rose is called for. 

Okay, I'm all perfume sampled out now! I shall be off to a cup of tea and my writing, have a wonderful weekend, a wonderful week and I'll see you all again on Wednesday for Writing Wednesday unless that becomes Literary Thursday? 

Writing Wednesday... Immortal words (hopefully)...

October is upon us, the air has turned chill, the leaves are falling and Halloween beckons to us from months end. 

What better time then to whisper of the Gothic?

I mentioned once before that, although my most recent book was more in the genre of fairy tale it's predecessors were Gothic novels, so let me add a little more detail on that.

Three or so years ago when I was still studying for my degree in English Literature, and taking modules in Creative Writing, I happened to watch a film which will remain nameless in which saccharine creatures of the night emoted boldly. I'd  read Dorian Gray and Dracula by this stage and was beginning to immerse myself in the works of Gautier and his fellow flaneurs of the Parisian dusk. This may help to explain why I emerged from that viewing experience with a rueful shake of the head, certain that these were not my creatures of the night. In the morning I plucked one of my notebooks from the teetering to be written in pile (like a TBR pile but blank) and put pen to paper. I wrote the first four chapters in one day before being pulled away by the task of writing an essay, then of revising. For a few months the novel slept until the years exams were over and I could return myself to it's pages in earnest. 

The rest just flowed after that, as it turned out a large cast of flamboyant immortals living in my head who wanted to make their presence felt. 

Their home was the 19th century, their habits not dependent on the moon and their lust for life and love quite extravagant. Theirs was a Gothic existence complete with stone arches and peacock feathers.

The research was as pleasurable as the writing, books on the Exposition Universal of 1889, the art of the Baroque, the English Civil War, Oscar Wilde and Victorian fashion were greedily devoured. Museums were visited and notes were taken. At the risk of sounding pretentious (always a danger for me) I wanted to immerse myself as deeply as possible in as atmospheric a world as possible.

Spending time reading anything and everything Gothic was no hardship to me. Every book was a delight and the Gustave Dore prints pinned to my notice board for inspiration were (and still are) a pleasure to look at. 

Even my perfume choices took on a Gothic edge with plenty of heavy, musky and alluring scents taking up space on my dressing table; my scent of the day today is Yves Saint Laurent's delicious Opium. Heavy folds of sensual amber, myrrh and vanilla sharpened by  by mandarin orange. It's not a perfume easily overlooked, it announces itself with a seductive fanfare and keeps on radiating. It wants, above all, not to be forgotten. What could be more appropriate for immortals?

The characters I wrote would also admire the scandalous idea of a perfume inspired by the 19th Centuries most mythologized vice: opium itself. I suspect they would also have adored my current favourite: Fou d'Absinthe by L'Artisan Parfumer too, such a sharp tribute to their green tipple of choice (they have a reverse colour wheel thing going on in their drinks cabinets). 

  Unlike other immortals I'm afraid my creations could never make it in the 21st Century, the harsh brightness of electric light has none of the glamour of gas and candle, the car can never be a sensitive or easy to talk to as the horse. They would admire the great steps forward humanity has made, yes. By necessity they long ago abandoned the default prejudices of their own eras and are sublimely glad to see that such shadows are fading, slowly, but fading. However, the 1980's with their plastic fantastic show glamour were their Waterloo. Not for them white powder with red braces; no, they would far rather be sipping Absinthe with Wilde and since that is not an option they have faded back into the shadows. You might see them occasionally, on a winters evening, wrapped in velvet as they scurry from a museum or stroll along the banks of the Seine. The hat of a hipster might make them shake their heads and smile because they remember when such things were new and bold. In many ways my creature are not so different from myself. But that's the nature of the Gothic, it should possess our dreams and our inner selves. 

The book I began three years ago is now the first of a series and currently out looking for an agent to represent them whilst i keep writing and, of course, I'm still reading gothically. 

Fragrance Friday... Balenciaga's Quadrille.

It's no secret that I love 1950's fashion (well it may be if we have never met before and you are new to this blog and to my writing, in which case I shall let you in on my secret now). Wherever I go I go in swing skirts or pencil skirts, faux astrakhan jackets, little clip top handbags and tiny hats. Naturally, being a perfume lover as well I am always on the look out for a perfect perfume to compliment my clothing obsession. This is a harder quest than you might think now that the heady vintages of the mid 20th Century have been swept aside beneath a barrage of sweetly floral and fruity fragrances. The perfumes of the 1950's and 1960's like a roll on girdle or the perfect court shoe screamed maturity and responsibility along with femininity. Their successors in the late 1960's whispered of inviting exoticism and mysticism with wisps of patchouli and honey. Now, however, the emphasis is  firmly fixed on the ever youthful appeal of peaches and strawberries, spring flowers and spring showers. The plastic surgeons glossy leaflet as portable, spritzable promise. 

I'm afraid that strawberries are my limit, I don't want to smell like dessert any more than I want to wear nude lipstick and I really don't want to wear nude lipstick (not sure I own any shade paler than the classic Revlon: Cherries in the Snow).

Don't get me wrong, some of these fragrances are beautiful, I was rather impressed by Chanel No.5 L'eau even though I feared for it's staying power and know in my heart that, whilst classic No.5 has enough silage that fellow shoppers have chased after me to ask what that perfume is and where they too can obtain a bottle, L'eau may prove sadly fleeting. 

However, they are not quite what I would want in a perfume and so one sometimes has to turn to vintage juices for special occasions and when I'm feeling rather 50's (full outfit, black eyeliner wings, red lipstick) one perfume stands out head and shoulders above it's competition: Balenciaga's Quadrille.

Like Balenciaga's dresses of the 1950's this perfume has volume and quirkiness in abundance. It's a powerhouse of amber and musk where the heart and top notes are, fittingly enough for a perfume named after a 19th century square dance, like coy ballerinas just hovering round the edges. After the first dab, one is aware of a rich scent of plum, peach and the crispness of lemon before the cloves and cardamon jump up sharply from the heart and beckon you in to the real party going on deep down in the musk and amber heart of the composition. 

It may have been an invitation to a quadrille but those tame 19th century dances have no place down here in the depths. Someones dropped a jazz LP down on the record player, there's a hint of smokiness in the air and the bar is serving only whiskey and gin. You want to slip into a little black jumper with shoulder pads and a frilly tulle petticoat. The world is on the cusp of a new era, things will be bright up ahead, your rocket cocktail shaker promised you so. 

That's the beauty of Quadrille to me. It's all the things you want from a vintage perfume, depth, complexity, musk and smokiness. It elbows it's way in and demands to be smelt the same way a black high heel demands that you look. 

Bal a Versailles.

I was trying to decide which perfume to choose for my first review and then the answer came to me: with only one more sleep to the American premier of my adored "Versailles la Serie" it made sense to review the equally beautiful Bal a Versailles. So, this morning I grabbed my gorgeous vintage mini of the EDT from my dressing table and dabbed it on.

(The bottle poses atop one of my Paperblanks notebooks)

I know you may be thinking, 'but EDT's are so light, shouldn't you use something a little stronger for a review?' Well, not when it comes to vintage Bal a Versailles, a delightfully musky floral perfume first released in 1962. Eight hours after the first application and this juice is still going strong and projecting very nicely. I'm not sure I could handle anything stronger for fear of headaches and as the wonderful review on Perfume Posse suggests the pure perfume might be a little too umm...feral for my tastes.
Not that the EDT is low on animalic notes, no. As strongly as the fresh wafts of orange blossom, Jasmin, Neroli and Bergamot come through in the top notes, once we get down to the heart and base the leather, resin, musk and civet start to come through pretty strongly. Nothing wrong with that, if anything it helps to enhance that evocative "Versailles" feeling to the perfume because, lets be honest for all the silks and jewels at the court of The Sun King personal hygiene was a largely ignored idea and unwashed courtiers drowned their own body odours beneath layers of heady perfumes including, paradoxically, civet.
The perfect thing then to wear if you are going to indulge in "Versaille la Serie", making the series a full on sensory experience, or it would if the courtiers and royals in this T.V series were not suspiciously (if deliciously) well bathed and the perfume references were not so thin on the ground. A great shame given that Louis XIV's minister of finance, Jean-Baptiste Colbert was a great supporter of the perfume industry and, until a later life aversion, Louis was a pretty heavy perfume user himself (for more details on this see Denyse Beaulieu's wonderful book, "The Perfume Lover").