by Estée Lauder, 2003
Yes, it is beyond paradise, off the plane, down the jetway, into the the shuttlebus, back to the car, up the highway, through the 'hood, back home to my backyard and a flying leap into the brambles on my hillside... because that's where my wild honeysuckle is! (I'm writing this right now on my deck, sniffing the blossoms in the air). Beyond Paradise is a white floral melange dominated by honeysuckle, and almost ruined by a touch too obvious artificial musks and too liberal an application of other white flower scents. Happily, it backs away from that cliff, showing off its excellent sense of balance. Estée Lauder has succeeded in bringing a classy yet casual white floral to the masses, it's a popular, accessible scent, fairly affordable but not cheap, produced by a quality but not exclusive brand. One could almost say it could (or should) be this decade's Giorgio, except for 1 thing, its lasting power.
You spray it on, wait for the alcohol to evaporate, and are subjected to those light artificial musks right away a second before the flowers hit, then the musks go away with the alcohol, and you're treated to the white flowers framing the star of the show, honeysuckle. The musks reappear slowly about 2 hours later, and by then the flowers have faded into a sort of dead gardenia sourness. Reapply and it starts all over again. But 2 lousy hours?! Come on! Only Après l’Ondée is shorter lived than this! Lord knows the room deodorizer-esque B&BW version of honeysuckle will last as long as Twinkies (if you can stand to wear body splash with a half-life). Some would argue compared to Giorgio's steroidal strength (...able to create corporate anti-fragrance policies in a single bound!....), this might be a blessing.
I love me some honeysuckle, but no commercial fragrance has got it quite right. So I'll just sit on my porch and sniff the real thing, thankyouverymuch.
Search
May 27, 2008
May 20, 2008
Mandarin Jasmine
by The Gap, 2007
Walk into any Anthropologie store and the air is filled with light florals & fruitness, crisp paper, & a slight scent of wool & bark, all spelling out "eclectic girliness". Walk into a Gap store and it smells like their men's scent G7, a "personalized" line of bland, flat, boring pine/citrus/soapy men's colognes, spelling out "hipness thru conformity". So, it perplexes me that The Gap is condensing, bottling, and selling the air from their fancier, more fringey competitor on the upper level of the mall. Although Anthropologie sells many scents (from 3rd parties) themselves, and their scents add to the ambiance of the store, you still wouldn't get Mandarin Jasmine if you bought a bottle of each and mixed them. You'd get a rottenfruit-stinking mess and a ruined $180 handknitted sweater. And possibly a very cute coffeetable book. And glassware you HAD to have (it was on sale!!)
Nevertheless, Mandarin Jasmine is another Gap scent from their GapBody line of eau de toilettes, and like its stable mates it's a simple composition drawn from cheap chemicals; components you recognize from their uses in laundry detergent, air freshener, and dryer sheets, but formulated with subtlety, lacking the chemically assaultive edge that Bath & Body Works seems incapable of avoiding. Its notable predecessors, Dream and (the late, lamented) Grass are also fine examples of Gap Gets It Right. The former evoking Cheer laundry powder, but milder and less assaultive yet equally evocative; the latter is exactly like smelling a freshly mown, pure, damp lawn while on an acid trip (Exactly!).
Mandarin Jasmine's not particularly orangey, nor are its artificial florals obviously jasminey, it's a whispery fruity-floral. Thanks to the Magic of Chemistry, it conjures the scent of paper from a world where you can smell the materials each thing was made from. This clean, crisp paper scent smells of wood. The scent doesn't evolve as you wear it. It isn't sophisticated, nor seductive, nor strange. You put it on and feel like wearing a $150 petite floral cotton dress, listen to a random wispy-voiced singer/songwriter chick on your iPod, and go make cute tote bags out of your old socks.... but not like shopping at the Gap.
Walk into any Anthropologie store and the air is filled with light florals & fruitness, crisp paper, & a slight scent of wool & bark, all spelling out "eclectic girliness". Walk into a Gap store and it smells like their men's scent G7, a "personalized" line of bland, flat, boring pine/citrus/soapy men's colognes, spelling out "hipness thru conformity". So, it perplexes me that The Gap is condensing, bottling, and selling the air from their fancier, more fringey competitor on the upper level of the mall. Although Anthropologie sells many scents (from 3rd parties) themselves, and their scents add to the ambiance of the store, you still wouldn't get Mandarin Jasmine if you bought a bottle of each and mixed them. You'd get a rottenfruit-stinking mess and a ruined $180 handknitted sweater. And possibly a very cute coffeetable book. And glassware you HAD to have (it was on sale!!)
Nevertheless, Mandarin Jasmine is another Gap scent from their GapBody line of eau de toilettes, and like its stable mates it's a simple composition drawn from cheap chemicals; components you recognize from their uses in laundry detergent, air freshener, and dryer sheets, but formulated with subtlety, lacking the chemically assaultive edge that Bath & Body Works seems incapable of avoiding. Its notable predecessors, Dream and (the late, lamented) Grass are also fine examples of Gap Gets It Right. The former evoking Cheer laundry powder, but milder and less assaultive yet equally evocative; the latter is exactly like smelling a freshly mown, pure, damp lawn while on an acid trip (Exactly!).
Mandarin Jasmine's not particularly orangey, nor are its artificial florals obviously jasminey, it's a whispery fruity-floral. Thanks to the Magic of Chemistry, it conjures the scent of paper from a world where you can smell the materials each thing was made from. This clean, crisp paper scent smells of wood. The scent doesn't evolve as you wear it. It isn't sophisticated, nor seductive, nor strange. You put it on and feel like wearing a $150 petite floral cotton dress, listen to a random wispy-voiced singer/songwriter chick on your iPod, and go make cute tote bags out of your old socks.... but not like shopping at the Gap.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)