Will return refreshed and with my in-person interview with the lovely Keiko Mecheri. Not sure exactly when, but soon. Please feel free to browse the Scent Signals archives in the meantime. Cheers!
P.S. The photo is one of nearly 300 I took when U2 came to Houston in October.
Here's my butterball, Peter Cat. No, you can't eat him. It's butterball turkey, not butterball kitty.
May your post-feast napping be as successful as his is here. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
This Telegraph article's headline caught my eye: "Women worry about their bodies 252 times a week." That's a seven-day average. The daily average, in a study of 100 women ages 35 to 69, was 36.
This means that, on average, the women had 36 negative thoughts about themselves each day. If you figure they slept eight hours a night, it means they averaged more than two negative thoughts (2.24) an hour.
One of the study participants, a TV presenter profiled in this Daily Mail article, discovered she had 300 negative thoughts about her body every day. She says she was shocked to learn how much negative energy she was directing inward.
"To realize how thick and fast I was putting myself down all day, every day, left me quite stunned. I hadn't realized how much I was my own worst enemy. It was clear I was wasting a lot of time thinking negative things about myself, and I understood that I will never be able to feel confident if I continued like that."
The study gave the women a device that they were to click each time they noticed themselves having a negative thought about their bodies, faces, or lives.
How many times would you click the device if you were asked to pay attention to your own self-talk? Would you be at the high end of the spectrum, like the TV presenter, or are you much kinder to yourself? Are you sure? I have a feeling most of say things to ourselves we'd never dream of saying to our friends.
Over the Thanksgiving holiday, between turkey and pumpkin pie and delicious leftovers, maybe we can make it an exercise to notice our negative thoughts and replace them with positive thoughts. 'Tis the season for counting blessings, after all.
One thing I've learned about breaking bad habits is that Nature abhors a vacuum. You have to replace the bad or hurtful thing you take away with something good. You can't just banish a negative thought and expect it to stay away. The newly empty space will be filled by something, so it's best to be the one who decides on the replacement.
Toward that end, here's a little prayer for you:
May you be blessed to see and actually believe your positive qualities, abilities and gifts. May you be blessed to remember what you came here to do. May you fully share your gifts and talents with the world. May you reconnect with any of your spirit and energy you may have lost on your way to here and now. May you be present to yourself and your life so you can notice and banish those thoughts that keep you stuck and unhappy. May you replace your painful, hurtful, negative thoughts with loving, gentle, helpful thoughts. May you revel in the glory of being alive. May you be surrounded by those who also revel in life and celebrate it with you. May you be with those who encourage and support and guide you without diminishing you. May you have mercy on yourself and all other life.
May we all have that.
Whew! Had a scentfully rich weekend, starting Saturday morning with Keiko Mecheri's visit to Houston. She was in town for a trunk show at Kuhl-Linscomb. I was blessed to spend time talking with her about her fragrance line, her life, and the perfume industry. That interview will be posted in the next few days, so stay tuned.
While at the Mecheri event I also got to meet several local perfumistas and the handsome cowboy perfumisto in the picture, Ben. What a well-traveled, highly educated, sophisticated bunch they are! And they're all looking for their next big perfume love - the one that will knock their socks off in a brand new way.
Which brings me to Sunday, and sniffing at the Galleria. Ostensibly, I went to the mall to pay my Neiman Marcus bill and pick up my birthday gift from Sephora (lip glosses). But why let a trip to the mall go by without doing a little sniffing, right? I started at Sephora. Here are my field notes:
Harajuku Lovers: Yo, Gwen. If you want to make kitschy bottles, just make them. Or fill them with fruit-flavored syrup or something else I can drink. The perfume you're putting inside these is utterly pointless. You're setting a very low standard for the next generation of perfume wearers.
Nanette Lepore Nanette: Ever hear of Rochas Tocade? Nanette is a blatant riff on the Tocade vanilla theme, albeit scratchier and rougher. Thanks, but I'll stick with Tocade and say no, no, Nanette.
D&G Anthology: I actually liked La Lune enough to spray it on my hand. It felt happy and bright, like a little burst of sunshine and flowers. Nothing lunar about it. The others, eh. The dry down on La Lune also eh.
Guerlain Homme: Smells more like an expensive French soap than a mojito to me. I liked it on my hand, and I think I would like to smell it on a man. Will have to revisit this one.
I smelled a few others then walked down to Saks to see if I could find the two honey scents at the MAC counter. They still have them, honey fans. I could appreciate them for what they are, but couldn't see myself wearing either one. They both felt heavy-handed and rough, and I just wasn't in the mood.
My scent of the day was Prada L'Eau Ambrée, if that tells you anything. I'd started the day craving something pretty, soft, and veil-like. So it's no surprise the two MAC honey scents didn't appeal to me. On another day, I might be all over them. BTW, the MAC sales associate, Shazia, was just lovely to talk with, even popping next door to Chanel to show me her signature scent, Chance Eau Fraiche.
I didn't snag samples or try them on skin so I can't fairly review them now. Let me just say that these are totally worth smelling. If you want a whiff of beauty, quality and sophistication, smell these.
My early favorites are L'Heure Promise, L'Heure Mysterieuse, and La Treiziemme Heure. Christmas is coming. You know what to get me.
While at Saks, I also tried Angel Le Liqueur de Parfum, and found myself magically back in love with Angel. I've known Angel since before it came to the States. It was one of my signature scents in the early '90s. We had a huge falling out when I found it cheating shamelessly and loudly with other women.
With Le Liqueur we've kissed and made up. Le Liqueur de Parfum is everything I remember loving about Angel. Yes, it's still Angel, but it's an angel of an Angel. Will try to explain that another time. If you once loved Angel and wish you could recapture that early magic, give Le Liqueur a whirl.
There is more to my Sunday sniffing adventure (yes, I kept sniffing!) but work beckons so this is to be continued.
Do you love the smell of old books as much as I do? Then you'll be glad to hear that scientists are putting that wonderful odor to good use.
The same technique used by perfumers to capture exotic aroma molecules in the Amazon and other faraway places is now being used to preserve old books and other paper-based artifacts for future generations.
Scientists at University College London are taking a good, deep whiff of old books because they've figured out that the volatile organic compounds (VOCs) that emanate from the pages hold clues to the paper's condition.
They can now sniff the books' VOCs to determine which ones are degrading the fastest, then optimize their preservation. All without damaging the books themselves. Used to be they'd have to cut a sample out of the book to test it for degradation.
By the way, that yummy smell we bookworms adore? They say it's an intoxicating blend of hundreds of VOCs, including grassy notes, a tang of acids, and a hint of vanilla. With an underlying note of must (as in mustiness). Delicious.
The books in my photo are French, published in Amsterdam in 1782, and smell divine.
Texas (and visiting) perfumistas can mark their calendars and plan to be in Houston, Texas on Saturday, November 21st for a visit from perfumer Keiko Mecheri. She will be appearing at my favorite Houston niche perfume shop, Kuhl-Linscomb, from eleven until four p.m. that day.
K-L's Terese tells me you will be able to sample Keiko's entire collection, including her newest scents, place special orders for them, and enjoy GWPs when you do. Keiko will talk about her collection, and will be signing bottles.
Kuhl-Linscomb is where I bought my bottle of "vintage" Umé, along with several other Mecheris, including Musc, Génie des Bois, Jasmine and Mihimé.
While visiting with Terese the other day, I got to sniff several of the new Mecheris, and my first reaction was that Keiko is getting better at her craft. More subtle. More nuanced. More sophisticated. No, I believe the word I'm looking for is refined. I really liked the two iris scents, Iris d'Argent and Iris Pourpre (the second one smells like a masculine Umé to me) and Cuir Cordoba, and I totally loved Datura Blanche. It's sweet and hypnotic and had my nose glued to my hand all night. I'm not big on amber as the lead actor in a scent, but I'll bet her Crystal d'Ambre will be popular with those who are.
I didn't start out as a Keiko Mecheri fan. In fact, I found the scents pretty but dull at first. I was introduced to the line via White Petals and Hanae, both of them popular and probably the most accessible scents of the line. Since I have a marked tendency to prefer the least popular and most difficult scents, this was an unfair introduction. It was skewed in such a way that I pretty much lost interest.
Then Kuhl-Linscomb got the big, gorgeous sample coffret with all of her scents (velvety on the outside and packed with large "test tubes" of perfume) and I got to play with the more sophisticated and interesting ones like Umé, Mihimé, and A Fleur de Peau. At that point, I insisted that they order her Musc, which they did and which I promptly bought. It's still one of my favorite, prettiest, and most comforting musk perfumes, up there with Serge Lutens Clair de Musc.
I'm still coming to terms with Loukhoum, the Turkish-delight-inspired fragrance some find cloyingly sweet and like an overdose of baby powder. I find it sweet, too, but I also get its jammy and even smoky nuances. This morning, after wearing it to sleep last night, I thought I smelled patchouli in it. That surprised me. It also inspired me to pair Loukhoum with a soft patchouli-sandalwood oil I have (Hugo Naturals Sensuous). The result is amazingly good. I may wear Loukhoum layered over Kiss My Face Peaceful Patchouli lotion today.
Actually, the only Mecheri "mistake" I've made is buying Sanguine. I think I was bored that day, and it was on sale. I don't like MPG's Sanguine Muskissime, so it's no huge surprise that I don't like this Sanguine much either. After the first rush of sweet, juicy citrus, I get bored with it. Next! And, whoa, I just sprayed it on to see how I feel about it today, and got a snootful of orange-flavored baby aspirin and something bitter. Not my cup of tea. Even her delicious musk note can't save it for me. But hey, that makes just one flop. I guess for me the lesson is, don't shop for perfume when I'm bored.
Hope to see lots of you perfumistas here in Houston on the 21st. Here are the links to Kuhl-Linscomb and Les Parfums de Keiko Mecheri for directions and more information. And here is Keiko's tweet about her visit to Houston.
Here are some of the sights (and scents) from the Day of the Dead 2009 celebration at Casa Ramirez in the historic Heights neighborhood of Houston. I took these photos yesterday and today.
I'm neither Mexican nor Aztec, but I've long been drawn to this particular remembrance of the dead. Perhaps because it's the only one you actually see celebrated in America. Well, at least in Texas.
In France, this is All Saints Day, and while the traditions are a bit different, the goal is the same - to stop and remember our loved ones who've passed beyond the veil ahead of us. And in the case of the Day of the Dead, to remember that we, too, shall pass beyond the veil soon enough. Death being the great equalizer and all.
Several years ago I got to visit the tomb of my French ancestors with my mother on All Saints Day. We brought flowers (there it's mums, here it's marigolds), tidied up the area, and refreshed the gold paint on the names carved in stone. I was glad to be there. When you've moved around as much as I have, it's good to know where your roots are, even if they are an ocean away.
Hope you enjoy the pics. As you'll see, the Day of the Dead is a very colorful celebration. Click on the pics to make them bigger.
The community altar at Casa Ramirez. You can add names, photographs and offerings if you'd like.
Marigolds on the community altar. Marigolds are the flowers of the dead and the flowers of the Sun. Marigolds are everywhere during the Day of the Dead, but these didn't smell as much as I thought they would.
A corner of the community altar with photographs, sugar skulls and offerings.
You can also build your own family altar at the shop. This one includes the dearly departed's favorite foods: pickles, fish and chocolate.
This altar was lovingly built by the friends of the Cancer Diva, a woman who blogged about her cancer in the local newspaper. Based on the items they placed on it, she loved cats, Paris and girly things.
Note the skull in the mirror, over her left shoulder. They placed a skeleton in a chair facing the mirror, so that it appears in the mirror only at certain angles. Quite disconcerting at first.
This altar was built by the brothers of a boy who died at age six. When I approached it yesterday I felt a wave of grief sweep over me. It was the only altar with that kind of energy attached to it. I didn't know the story then. I do now. The boy, Lauro (Larry), fell into the deep end of pool while chasing after a butterfly. He died after a series of tragic delays and mishaps, including a accident in which his ambulance overturned.
Larry's brothers did a beautiful job telling the story of their brother's happy life, how it ended too soon, and how the family has grieved ever since (29 years), both in words and through this altar (those are his toys!). I feel honored to know about little Lauro.
A husband made this altar for his wife. It has a peaceful, calm feeling about it. Not completely sure why, it just does.
Another family's altar at Casa Ramirez. You can see how different they all are from one another. They're like visual and tactile and at times olfactory obituaries. Very personal.
The altars will be on display through Sunday, November 15th, so if you're in Houston and you haven't seen them in person, there's still time.
When I arrived at Casa Ramirez tonight, this woman was helping to set up the procession. She was also at the shop yesterday. I don't know her story; one of the altars may be hers. I found her interesting because she seemed to be here and yet not here, patient, peaceful and reverent. Whomever she is remembering was close and dear to her.
The following photos are of the procession held tonight just before sunset. You may see some people wearing or carrying photographs. These are their beloved dead, for whom they were walking tonight. I'm tired, so I'm just going to post the pictures in chronological order without commentary. I think they'll give you a sense of how it was. The incense being burned is copal, the traditional incense of the Day of the Dead.
Again, you can click on the pics to make them bigger.
At the front of the procession were the gracious owners of Casa Ramirez. Hope you can join the celebration next year.
Oh, yes, they call this little guy Chupacabra. He's a bat, but they call him a goat-blood-sucking vampire. He makes me laugh.
At first I thought it was a factice, because I couldn't smell anything emanating from the bottle. But now, outside of the musty, dusty environment of the shop, I can smell perfume around the neck of the bottle.
So I believe this is perfume, not colored water. It's not as green as some of the No. 19 I have, but it does smell like No. 19.
Even though there's a glob of do-it-yourself-looking glue at the back, the necklace chain is looped through the string on both sides.
So this was either done at the factory for a promotion, or by a crafty and terribly patient Chanel fan who bothered to undo and then re-do the string to attach the chain. The stopper itself is still attached by the string, and the fine "tissue" paper is still in place.
If anyone has any ideas about its origin, I'll be curious to hear them. In the meantime, I will enjoy wearing it (it hangs quite nicely on the body). Of course, I'll have to be very, very careful with it. I can just imagine smashing this on some desk or countertop.
This will be brief. Just wanted to show off a couple of vintage treasures I found this weekend. The first is a vintage bottle of Derby de Guerlain. It's a double treasure because of its age and its price.
Actually, I'm not sure of its age, I just know that it's not the new version. Perhaps a Guerlain expert will let us know when this one was issued.
I have a bee bottle of the recently reissued Derby, which I bought when the Guerlain scent-picker came to town. This cost me about one-tenth the price of that bee bottle ($24.95). Wow, does it smell rich, almost thick.
My other vintage find this weekend was this gold mesh bag from Whiting & Davis Co. These mesh bags are highly collectible, and are beautifully made. (No doubt one reason why they're highly collectible!)
I'm thinking this one is from the 1970's, but since I can't find anything exactly like it online, I'm not sure. If any of you Whiting & Davis fans know anything about it, please let me know. It's signed, in great shape, and I'm thinking it was a steal at $31.
As much as I hate the heat, humidity, pollution, crappy roads and flooding, Houston does have some decent vintage shopping. I may start posting about some of my other finds in the future. I've been getting into vintage costume jewelry lately, and have some fun pieces to share. If any of you perfume lovers are also vintage costume jewelry collectors, let me know.
Yippee!!! A "real" cool front FINALLY blew in on Friday, and the first thing I did to celebrate was light up one of these incense "bricks" from Incienso de Santa Fe. Not sure why, but as soon as I feel cool weather, something snaps in my brain, and I want to throw open the doors and windows and smell wood smoke on the wind.
Since I don't have a wood-burning (or any other) fireplace, and neither do my neighbors, this is the next best thing. Actually, it could be the BEST thing, because I get the fantastic, true aroma of wood smoke without the fuss of building and the muss of cleaning a fire.
I bought these incense logs (I think of them as logs, the company calls them bricks) at least ten years ago at Whole Foods in Dallas, and I'm pleased to say they've held their scent quite well. Probably the best $2.99 I've ever spent for something fragrant! (I bought several boxes, of different woods, and am still going through them.)
Yes, I could turn to my much more expensive bottle of Diptyque Feu de Bois for a wood smoke fix, and I often do. It works well in warmer weather, and when I don't have time to wait for an incense log to burn down. But Feu de Bois is also a sweeter, more liqueur-nuanced wood smoke smell than the incense.
Perhaps not surprisingly, it smells to me like a wood fire in France, not Texas. And it's a lot more than just a wood fire. When I smell Feu de Bois, I also smell the old stones of chateaux and cathedrals, and their ancient, oiled, unburned wood. Wood touched by the ghosts of a million hands.
Feu de Bois captures France's history somehow. It's one of the most evocative bottled fragrances I've ever encountered. It mixes aromas found indoors with those found outdoors and also juggles time periods.
I actually bought Feu de Bois with the notion that I'd wear it, and not use it as the room spray it was designed to be, because I like that wood smoke aroma so much. I've done that a couple of times, and while it's okay, I think you experience more of the scent's facets when you use it as a room spray.
On skin Feu de Bois goes resinous, gets mentholated and more piney/medicinal, especially at first. Your brain may flick to healing rubs. As it warms up, you start to smell more smoke, but the resin remains. Lots of tree sap. It's very interesting, and could even make a nice underpinning for something sweeter (a little Yatagan, anyone?), but on skin Feu de Bois loses that nifty, indoor-outdoor, modernity-antiquity trip. Make sense?
When I want to trick my brain into thinking there's plain, old Texas-style wood smoke out there somewhere on the crisp, autumnal wind, I burn one of the incense logs. When I want the trip to France, I spray Feu de Bois.
Just checked the Incienso de Santa Fe web site, and the logs have gone up in price to $4.25 for a box of 40. That's still a deal. If you're not sure which wood you like best (alder, mesquite, pinon, juniper, cedar, hickory, or fir balsam), they have a sampler box that is also a bargain at $7.75. It comes with its own tiny incense burner. I use a raw terracotta tile to burn mine, but may have to spring for one of their cute, handmade clay burners.
Should I think of its chocolate velvet cloak, golden sheath and diamond arabesques as a warning, or an invitation?
According to the wrapper, this is one sophisticated fragrance affair.
If I dressed the way Midnight Oud is dressed, I would be dolled up for a fancy winter ball, dripping with jewels and style. My dress would be cut from black-red velvet. My cape would be lined with silky (fake) fur.
In this instance, I believe they got the packaging right. Midnight Oud's exterior is truth in advertising. The warm chocolate velvet and substantial gold ceramic bottle with the rose-red script are accurate visual clues to what's inside - something solid and deep and soul-warming.
But reality check - it's still a steam bath out there. While the rest of the country is experiencing fall, here in Texas it is endless summer. The kind of heat and humidity where your sweat puddles and runs beneath your boobs. Makes you just want to strip down, find a cool cavern and hide.
So do I wait for the cool front the weather wonks are teasing us with, or cave in to my craving for this delicious rose and oud concoction?
It's hands-down my favorite of the Juliette Has a Gun series - the others having reminded me a touch much of the Agents Provocateur I already own.
I've never been one to shy away from what some consider the "heavy" aesthetic in perfumery, so I'm thinking I may just do it.
Mmmmm, I just sprayed it on my wrists, and it's quite a kick. It has both a French and an Arabic feel to it. At first, it smells like some of the Arabic perfume oils I have, heavy with saffron and oud, a touch medicinal. But then the rose asserts itself, juicy yet powdery, and you sense the scent's French heritage. The rose and the oud play hide and seek with each other, much to my delight.
(Hahaha... midnight in the garden of rose and oud, no evil there.)
So, yes, I believe I will dare to wear it in this disgusting weather.
What's the worst that could happen? The rose will lift my spirits, and the smooth, seamless, mysterious nature of the scent will beguile all the hapless men I encounter. ;)
Yes, even though I might as easily wait for a special occasion to wear this - it definitely has that "wear me on a special occasion and I will make it even more special" quality - I will treat myself to it today at the office.
Ah, it's a friend's birthday! That's special occasion enough, right? Heck, just being alive and well another day is special occasion enough! Blessings are all around, I say.
Update: I wore Midnight Oud in the heat and humidity, and it performed very nicely, even tamely. In fact, I found myself wanting that first, slightly medicinal hit about six hours in. I could still smell the scent at that point, but it was rich and mellow, and I wanted some intensity.
It garnered two solid compliments from men ("it's expensive but worth the price" and "one of the best I've ever smelled on you") and an interesting one from a third guy. He said it was something he'd like to wear. I let him spritz some on. We'll see how he liked it.
Midnight Oud's notes include: saffron; oud, bulgarian rose; patchouli; musk; sandalwood; amber.
I found mine at Kuhl-Linscomb, Houston for $153 for 3.4 oz. (ask for Terese). Not cheap, but worth it. Just like me.
Today's heat index is supposed to be 109 degrees.
ONE HUNDRED NINE.
It's freakin' October 6th, people. Is this the southeast Texas version of an Indian Summer?! It's insane is what it is.
Just last week I was celebrating what felt like the first, tentative tendrils of fall creeping into our area. I was looking forward to wearing season-appropriate fragrances to complement the welcome change in the weather. I even made a list of them.
This week, that list looks utterly ridiculous. I am having to completely rethink my fragrance choices. And I am not happy about it. In fact, I am feeling downright cranky. It's not that I don't know which scents smell good in the heat and humidity, it's that it's just plain WRONG to even have to consider them.
Indian Summer is supposed to be a glorious time in autumn, when the sun offers up one last, golden, gentle caress before giving in to the inevitable clouds of winter. Indian Summer is a time when you can breathe deeply and freely. The air in your nose and throat neither sticks nor stings, it is just right. Indian Summer is idyllic and magical and necessary to the order of things. Except here, apparently.
They say we're going to be getting our first "real" taste of fall this Friday. "They" had better be right about that. People are acting crazy around here, and I think the heat and humidity are partly to blame. To wit:
Just yesterday in the news we had a necrophiliac funeral director (liked to take photos of his weenie next to female corpses), a wife-killing husband (neighbors called him "frugal and quiet" before he stabbed her 20 times), and feral hogs tearing up nice lawns searching for grub (okay, the hogs have been doing that all summer long, but only yesterday was it considered "news," which might say more about the humans than the hogs and thereby make my point about it being INSANE around here).
I will try to remain calm until the appropriate and long-overdue weather arrives. I hope the rest of southeast Texas tries to do the same. If you're somewhere enjoying a real Indian Summer, please share. I promise I won't cry or scream. Much.
