Covet

by Sarah Jessica Parker & Coty, 2007

You've seen the commercial: Sarah Jessica Parker in character as Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City, kicking in a shop window to get at a bottle of Covet, then getting hauled away, maniacally hissing, "I HAD to have it!" Of course after a hysterical ad like that, I HAD to have it for my next review!

At my local Macy's I sniffed the bottle, another sweet fruity-floral, oh yawn. I wouldn't kick in a shop window for this. Normally I'd put it down and move on to another bottle, but in the interest of a fair review... (ok, you can stop laughing now..... really..... are you done yet? Thank you) I made a small sacrifice, I spritzed some directly on my arms.

After determining I wasn't melting like the Wicked Witch of the West (which Sarah Jessica Parker uncannily resembles), I found I smelled like a spicy, candied apple pie... with a bouquet of white flowers drooping over it... and Mom's Tussy deodorant accidentally smudged on the apple slices before baking. Oops.

The Tussy middle note lasts for a while, then fades into a generic
vanilla-woodsy scent, which lasts for hours. The Tussy adds a slight
trashy edge to the generic trendiness, much like the character of
Carrie. Compared to the other Sarah Jessica Parker perfume, Lovely (a
ripoff of Beautiful by Estée Lauder) this is only a little more
interesting, but still a generic fruity-floral. So what's all the hype
about? Certainly not the intriguing but short-lived appley-spicy top
note, nor the generic floral note, definitely not the Tussy. Covet it?
Not so much.

Ambre Narguile & Osmanthe Yunnan

Today I have 2 of the Hermessence series by Hermès: Ambre Narguile and Osmanthe Yunnan. The others are Poivre Samarcande, Rose Ikebana, Vetiver Tonka, and Paprika Brasil. This is a very "foody" line of exclusive scents from Hermès, which you can only get (supposedly) from selected Hermès boutiques (or online discounters and decanters).

Ambre Narguile, 2004

I detect: Amber, a powdery note, almond (marzipan?), mimosa, musk. The amber isn't annoying and obvious, but is used as rounding, as it should be, instead of as a head-splitting club. The mimosa is probably giving it the almond/marzipan scent I detect. I always smell marzipan in mimosa scents...

Nice.

It makes me reminisce about a dog grooming salon, specifically the
almondy-powdery notes smell just like the powder they put in my dog's
fur after they shaved him for the summer, with the slight musk note it
actually smells a little like my dog, too. This isn't a bad connotation,
clean doggie is a very nice, friendly smell, and I miss my doggie!

This one lasts and lasts on the skin, getting foodier and almondy-er as
it wears, but never tips over the edge into making you hungry or
smelling like a cookie.

Osmanthe Yunnan, 2005

Like Sweet Honesty by Avon, freesia and a powder note, lily of the
valley, and the slightest of musk. Very sweet. Smells just like some
Holly Hobbie bubble bath beads I had as a child. Absolutely NO lasting
power, sweet top note dissipates in a few minutes, soft powdery note
lingers slightly longer but fades sharply very quickly, there's nothing
left in an hour. Would be an excellent choice for the tween girl in your
life, if you're the sort of cool aunt who'd give her an expensive "grown
up" perfume. It's much more sophisticated than the usual choice of
9-year-olds -Love's Baby Soft, or any of the wretched fruity-floral
Hilary Duff fragrances that are so popular lately. Much less cotton-candy sweet than anything by Aquolina, either. I wish I had more to say about it other than "sweet & lovely & GONE in 60 minutes!"

Après l’Ondée

by Guerlain, 1906

It’s hard to be snarky about violets, they’re soft and purple-smelling, and are about the only choice if you want to say “innocent” without cloying sweetness, tho historically, they apparently mean something else. Après l'Ondée (After the Heavy Rain) is all about violets, it’s got violets out the wazoo! Picture that for a moment....

Remember the end of "Poem, or Beauty Hurts Mr. Vinal" by e. e. cummings?

. . .
perpetually crouched, quivering, upon the
sternly allotted sandpile
--how silently
emit a tiny violetflavoured nuisance: Odor?

ono.
comes out like a ribbon lies flat on the brush
. . .