Category Archives: Cologne

It was on this charming trip to New York last fall that I discovered the gorgeousness that is ‘Magnetic Wood’ by The Harmonist. I wasn’t even on the hunt for a new fragrance when I quite deliberately stepped into Bergdorf Goodman and found my way to their bustling fragrance counter. I was just seeking out confirmation that ‘Promise’ by Frederic Malle would be my holiday cologne, but the salesperson eyed me up and set up The Harmonist – a brand I hadn’t discovered until that moment. He sprayed some on a sample card and waved it in the air before presenting it to me. 

Immediately, I noticed the sweetness of mimosa and the freshness of something like bergamot or citrus, and my initial instinct was to politely back off. It was fall, and I was in the mood for something darker and spicier, and this was not it. I slipped the card into my pocket and went back on the ‘Promise’ prowl. Apparently he was pushing The Harmonist, so he showed me ‘Hypnotizing Fire’ but that wasn’t quite my jam, so I thanked him for his help and made my way back down Fifth Avenue. 

As I did so, I pulled the scented card out of my pocket and tried it again, knowing how perfume changes and evolves and becomes something quite different the longer it wears. I brought it to my nose and it felt like a rush of warm air suddenly broke through the cool fall air of October. ‘Spring’ it whispered, and the bright yellow blooms of mimosa filled my head with their sweetness. My introduction to the scent was from a bouquet that a friend had brought to another friend’s party – I kept smiling something delicious in the air, and circled about until I realized it was coming from the little yellow sprays of mimosa flowers. From that moment on, I loved the scent, even as it bordered on being too sweet for my decidedly drier tastes. 

That said, a little mimosa goes a long way, particularly when one is easy agitated by sweeter florals that border on cloying. The small bottle of Jo Malone’s ‘Mimosa & Cardamom’ I have on hand is almost all entirely still accounted for because I can only take it in small doses on those rare days when I’m feeling uncharacteristically soft and sweet. The card I suddenly couldn’t stop smelling was giving me a different vibe, and my nose was drawn back to it over and over again, haunted by its harmonious combination of the mimosa with something green and woody. At that moment, on some cold concrete corner of New York, I stopped and inhaled ‘Magnetic Wood’, and knew it to be my next spring fragrance.

It opens with those bergamot and green mandarin notes – fresh and crisp in the citrusy way that smells much too fine to last – and then the heart of mimosa and iris opens up into the main attraction. If you enjoy mimosa, this is a gift from the heavens for you. After that, it begins settling down into something with tinges of sandalwood and cedar – just enough to keep the sweetness from becoming sickly. I get a few aquatic waves from this too, which gives it some extra freshness and mellows the sweeter aspects. It’s a precariously fine balance, one which it manages to sustain in part by fading away right before it becomes too smug. Knowing when to pull back is the hat trick of the more challenging perfumes I’ve tried – and the mark of something that’s not going to annoy the wearer, especially in the warmer months. 

When Andy and I got married in 2010, I also married a scent to the happy day, and ever since then the whiff of Creed’s ‘Green Irish Tweed’ brings me back to that moment. The small bottle of that exquisite fragrance was a birthday gift from Andy a few years into our relationship, and I saved it for our wedding day because I wanted it to form that sensory memory. Since then, I usually only wear it for our anniversaries and other special spring occasions.

This year marks our 15th wedding anniversary, and we are reconvening in Boston with the original cast (at least those of us still alive), and to that celebratory end I’m hoping there will be a new scent to christen and mark the occasion for years to come: Louis Vuitton’s ‘Imagination’. 

It’s admittedly a splurge (though still not quite the most expensive fragrance I’ve ever owned – a dishonor that belongs to the gold-bottle original release of Tom Ford’s ‘Soleil Brulant’, and still worth every penny) but not close to other price-points I’ve seen of late. It also comes with optional complimentary personalized engraving (just my initials, ABI, will suffice, as illustrated in their simulated version above) which may be ordered on their website here. The 100 ml bottle would be the perfect size, and I’m not even asking for the travel case that is also available (and utterly ridiculous). This is called restraint. 

‘Imagination’ is high on the Holy Grail list of fragrances that many connoisseurs consider worth knowing, and having sampled it a few months ago I would agree that it is exquisitely divine. It would also make for a perfect new memory, which is the point of any lovely perfume. 

‘Rose & Cuir’ by Fredric Malle has already been gushed about and adored in this lush post, so I won’t delve any deeper into its olfactory delights. It’s enough just to spray some of this on and remember happier winter days, as this one reminds me of spending time with Dad in the old house, when Mom went out for the morning and I got to take care of the man who had always taken care of me. They were mostly quiet days, as Dad didn’t talk much then, but we’d take meals together, and sit together as he perused photo albums and occasionally took notice of an old movie on the television. I’m grateful for those days together, and they keep me warm in the winter. 

The bottle of ‘Rose & Cuir’ was a Christmas gift from Mom a few years ago, and while I originally intended to save it for spring, I decided to wear it that winter to offset the darkness of the season. It worked, as that winter still brings light and love to mind. The power of a fragrance to rekindle a memory.

Planning for this Virgo’s Christmas season begins in the summer, when Skip and I were last in Boston for our annual BroSox adventure. It was at that time that I made us stop at Neiman Marcus to try out a scent that I had in mind for the holidays. It was in the Frederic Malle line, and conjured by one of my favorites Dominique Ropion – who was at the helm of such gorgeous creations as ‘Carnal Flower‘, ‘Geranium Pour Monsieur‘ and the exquisite ‘Portrait of a Lady‘. 

Named simply ‘Promise’, this fragrance is part of their Desert Gems series, most of which carry a pungent and potent punch grounded in oud. ‘Promise’ starts with a fruity opening, something that I’ve fought for years but have learned to acknowledge as my starting point, all dirty puns intended. Pink pepper lends it some early spice, while rosemary and apple begin the journey in refreshing fashion. This gives way to the glorious midsection of Bulgarian rose oil, Turkish rose absolute, and a dash of cloves to keep the line of spice going. Finishing and resonating with patchouli, ambroxam, labdanum and Cypriol heart, the whole journey is a wild and worthy one – one that, upon my wafting a scented card in Skip’s direction, was described as simply “a lot” – a description that absolutely sealed the deal for me. When I asked him months later for a more in-depth take, he confirmed it as my holiday frag: “It didn’t announce when you entered the room, it declared it!”

A gift of my Mom for my birthday, it arrived in August, when I tried it on during a birthday dinner. It filled the room – perhaps the house – solidifying its status as ‘a lot’ – and there is no more perfect harbinger of the holidays than something that gets such notice. Sometimes you don’t have to yell to be the loudest presence in any given room. 

That’s the secret to any powerful perfume – it declares who you are without having to say a word, and the world simply knows. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to sniff me before the year is out. 

A quick look at two of my fragrance shelves (just the two – there is a third, which is actually the top tier) reminds me of the excess and gluttony of my one true addiction – and it’s ok because we all deserve at least one indulgence in life. (Some of us deserve many.) While I’ve been eyeing the latest Tom Ford Private Blend ‘Black Lacquer’, I’m a little more intrigued by his limited edition offering of ‘Amber Intrigue’ – which is, I believe, only available at Harrod’s in London right now. They always get the best things. Until I can get my paws on a sample, this perusal through the collection will have to do – and it makes me happy to rekindle all the memories that each of these scents provides. 

The main purpose of any fragrance is, for me, in making a memory. 

And I happen to enjoy making lots of memories. 

Most of my favorite colognes have been gifts from Andy for birthdays or holidays or anniversaries. They have each worked to make memories that now fuel me whenever I feel uninspired or sad about something. Andy is the one who started my Tom Ford collection, with a bottle of ‘Oud Wood’ way back when, and has since populated some of my more precious bottles – such as ‘Amber Absolute‘, ‘Japon Noir‘, and ‘Bois Marocain‘ before they were all discontinued. 

This year’s anniversary (our 24th) brought about an addition to my relatively small Creed collection. Creed’s Green Irish Tweed is the fragrance I wore for our wedding ceremony in the Boston Public Garden, and was a birthday gift from Andy a couple years before then. Their ‘Royal Oud’ offering was a birthday gift from my Mom, which I’ve been wearing for our Thanksgivings thanks to its sumptuous, spicy richness. 

As part of our coquette summer, ‘Silver Mountain Water’ is the perfect fragrance to offer a fresh alternative to the potent ‘Carnal Flower’. As summer advances, we needed a breath of freshness, and the bergamot and mandarin orange citrus opening provides just that. Deepening into notes of green tea and black currant, it finally reveals a few more of my favorite elements with sandalwood and petitgrain. Then, perhaps a bit too quickly, it dissipates into a skin fragrance, which is just what I want in a summer fragrance. This world is heavy enough, and our coquette summer was designed to be light and free and airy. 

A number of years ago, Suzie and I were having a night-cap (or a night-start, I can’t quite recall) at Quill at The Jefferson in Washington. A favorite DC haunt, introduced to me by my friend Chris, Quill provided the quiet and contemplative scene ideal for sharing time with a treasured friend. A piano player tickled out a few standards, and as we settled into our evening, a woman brushed by us and sat down in the next table. I didn’t notice her at first, as I don’t typically notice strangers, especially when talking with a friend. That changed as my nose pricked up at the gorgeous trail of perfume she left behind her, and so exquisite was it that I broke out of my public shyness and told Suzie I was about to ask this woman a question. 

“Hi, I just have to ask… what perfume are you wearing? It’s beautiful,” I said.

The woman looked slightly sheepish as she explained that felt a little embarrassed to say the title, but she gave up the name: ‘Carnal Flower’. I told her I knew the Frederic Malle line and it was lovely, then we left her alone. At that time, I wasn’t ready to take on such a fragrance, in name or actual fragrance. It was exquisite on her, but I said that it wasn’t something I could wear. Not then – I was still too unsure of myself. 

Created by the brilliant Dominique Ropion for Frederic Malle (the same genius behind ‘Portrait of a Lady’ among many other jewels), ‘Carnal Flower’ is one of the classic early entries in that glorious line. Way back when I was just beginning my scent journey, I tried it out in Barney’s and it was much too much. For years, that’s where it remained in my mind, in the section of ‘too much, even for me’ that no one believes I actually harbor. 

Over those years, the Tom Ford Private Blend line brought me into a realm where my nose evolved, and I came to appreciate richer and more complex works, things that went beyond citrus cologne, hinting at deeper and more beautifully dark perfumes. A brief but vibrant excursion through the decadent Diana Vreeland line further expanded my idea of olfactory allure. As time passed, I found myself appreciating perfumes that once repelled me. One of those was ‘Carnal Flower’, which finally revealed its full enchantment to me years after that woman at Quill whispered its forbidden name to me through a shy smile. 

A bottle of it greeted me on our anniversary this year, courtesy of Andy, who has supplied more magical fragrance memories than anyone else – this was no different, and it’s been kicking off a floral spring and summer that will hopefully be filled with healing moments of rebirth. With its heart of tuberose, and gorgeously green opening with a dose of bergamot and melon, it is the embodiment of floral freshness, and sticks around surprisingly well, drying down with the lasting tuberose and happy access of orange blossom. All of it leads seamlessly into summer… 

Everyone should have at least one indulgence about which they are passionately obsessive and lovestruck through all the days of their lives, and for me that is fragrance. My cologne cabinet – because of course I have a cologne cabinet – is one of my prized possessions, as are the contents contained within, and as silly and superficial as it all may be it still brings me happiness in a world often bereft of joy. 

Fragrance can act as one’s calling card – a representation of who a person is, what they like, and how they want to be portrayed. It’s what’s left in their wake after they have left a room, or what announces their presence to someone just entering. That said, I change too much to have one signature fragrance, and there is too much variety, and too many beautiful extremes, to be bound to just one. Hence my ever-expanding collection. 

Recently, upon a bathroom repainting/revamping, I succumbed to my Virgo nature and decided it was time to dust off and polish each bottle separately. It hasn’t been done in about ten years, as this cabinet is entirely closed, and not susceptible to much dust. As I took my time going through each one, I would take off the cap and bring the bottle to my nose, indulging in the beauty, and the memories each one evoked. Scent is one the strongest memory triggers, and almost all of my fragrances carry with them a seasonal memory, recalling where and when it was that I wore them. That is the truest pleasure of my cologne collection: all of those wonderful memories. 

The Tom Ford Neroli line brought back many summers – happy ones from long ago and a very sad one from last year – all of them beautiful in their own way. His Soleil collection (of which I’ve amassed Soleil Blanc, Soleil Brulant, and Soleil De Feu) brought back the summer sun and all its radiant warmth. My entire Tom Ford Private Blend collection is filled with very special bottles, most of them gifts from Andy or my family that make them even more meaningful. I thought of those beloved ones, and the lovely memories they evoke, as I took my time inhaling each bottle on its own.

My trio of Creed fragrances is spare (largely because of that house’s impossible price point) but significant. Of course, Aventus is there – the powerhouse performer that is ideal for office wear as it’s so universally enjoyed, though I prefer their take on Royal Oud, which has become my Thanksgiving fragrance – recalling gatherings of family. That was a gift from my Mom for my birthday, only adding to its significance. My very first Creed acquisition, the little bottle of Green Irish Tweed pictured below, was a gift from Andy, and this is the fragrance I wore on our wedding day in the Boston Public Garden. 

So many scents, so many memories, so much love… it feels less silly when I think of it this way. The Frederic Malle line comes with a number of special bottles – notably one of my very favorite fragrances, Portrait of a Lady – and there are others that conjure giddy recollections of winter nights and winter days. (See also Geranium Pour Monsieur, Uncut Gem and Outrageous! (The exclamation point is not part of my writing; it forms part of the ridiculous name! There, that one was mine.) 

Lately I’v been enamored of the Night Veils collection by Byredo, of which my Mom gifted me the autumn-like Sellier and Andy got me the deliciously-resinous Tobacco Mandarin. The House of Byredo also supplied another office frag, Accord Oud, which I wear a lot in September, when things go back into the post-summer swing. 

If you’re wondering what’s next, I am too – and I’m requesting the delicious Carnal Flower for the upcoming spring anniversary season… 

Le Labo has been on the periphery of my olfactory radar for many years. I first experienced the sumptuous scent of their products at one of the fancier hotels I was once lucky enough to stay at, where it was their signature Santal 33 that wafted its lovely fragrance through some bath gel. As pretty as it was, I was also keenly aware that Santal 33 was to the 2010’s what CK One was to the 1990’s – and in both instances I wanted nothing to do with something so ubiquitous and pervasive. (Witness Santal’s continued influence on the fragrance market with its reference in the now-canonical ‘Red, White & Royal Blue‘ gay rom-com.) 

With that in mind, I still managed to stumble into the world of Le Labo online, and got stuck one afternoon reading about the various fragrances they offered in addition to Santal, and one of them – Thé Noir 29 – spoke to me in a way that most of the colognes that have become staples in my fragrance wardrobe first spoke to me. The literature checked off about five of my favorite note boxes, and added some I didn’t even realize I adored:

THÉ NOIR 29 combines depth and freshness, softness and strength through permanent oscillation between the light of bergamot, fig, and bay leaves and the depth of cedarwood, vetiver, and musk. A special extraction of black tea leaves wraps up the composition by bringing to the formula a dry, leafy, hay, tobacco feeling in the dry down to transform this creation into a sensuous and addictive essence.

This wasn’t my first brush with a tea fragrance, as ‘Bamboo Harmony’ by Kilian is a treasured spring scent that came loaded with happy memories. Still, I wasn’t prepared for how much I would love this, and for me, on my skin, it really is the tea that shines. The opening accents of bergamot and fig appeal to my life-long love of citrus, and a relatively-new-found love of fruity elements, while the cedarwood, bay leaves, and tea keep it from going too sweet; it’s an exquisite balancing act that only the best fragrances achieve.

I also detect a smoky rose note that offers enchanting echoes of two classics: Tom Ford’s ‘Oud Fleur’ and Frederic Malle’s ‘Portrait of a Lady‘. More deliciously, there is some sandalwood buried in the architecture of ‘Thé Noir 29’, a very happy hint of ‘Santal Blush‘ and ‘Ébène Fumé‘, two other Ford favorites. With all these glorious intersecting lines and memories, ‘Thé Noir 29’ looks to occupy a prominent place on my cologne shelf. 

The French word for ‘saddle’ is ‘sellier’, which is the jumping off point for Byredo’s ‘Sellier’ ~ a nod to leather and all its rich, fragrant glory. As part of the ‘Night Veils’ collection, ‘Sellier’ runs a bit stronger than the usual light touch of most of Byredo’s offerings (with a notable exception or two). This one was a birthday gift from my Mom, opened just in time for September and official arrival of fall. 

Along with the leather, a classic duet of tobacco leaves and smoke grounds the proceedings with dusty visages of heavy, somber smoking rooms darkly rich with wood libraries of ancient tomes and parlor palms. While the name and main thrust of this fragrance is steeped in leather, there is a minor green note (perhaps the oak moss) that lends it a freshness and invigorating spunk that makes the leather come alive. 

Byredo is often notoriously ethereal, making for some criticism of its sharp price point, but the Night Veils group carries a heftier bite. ‘Sellier’ is one gorgeous and dramatic scent, bringing the crisp clap of fall into brisk focus, the way the first night-frosts elicit a clarity and shock in the morning. 

It’s a tricky time of the year for finding a fragrance – days can be hot and muggy or crisp and cool, sometimes it swings both ways in the span of just a few hours. To be safe, I usually turn to the office frags – Creed’s ‘Aventus’ or Tom Ford’s ‘Oud Wood’ or Frederic Malle’s ‘Bois d’Orage’ – all are relatively dry and not heavy on the musk, so when the heat rises and humidity is on the move, these remain relatively calm and cool.

To this section of the year, I’m adding a blind-buy by Gucci – Memoire D’une Odeur – which was exuberantly billed as “a fragrance that transcends gender and explores the power of memory” – among other things. It’s also rumored to be one of the preferred scents of Harry Styles (who fronted the ad campaign and wore mostly Gucci on his recent world tour), and I take his style and accessories as supreme inspiration.

Opening with Roman chamomile, lending it a green freshness, it winds its way through a jasmine trail before drying down into vanilla, sandalwood and cedarwood. In my experience, it reads better on paper (or phone screen) than it actually performs, but that’s the risk one runs with a blind-buy. Not to say that it’s awful – it simply has a powdery, floral musk element that I personally don’t love, which almost sets it at odds with itself. The longevity is also abysmal, losing its fresh green element almost instantly, and fading into a close skin scent after only twenty minutes – not necessarily an awful thing when the days veer hot and muggy, which makes this an ideal time of the year for it.

First impressions were the worst impressions, and I kept giving this a shot, especially on my days working from home. At those times a skin scent is all that’s required, and Andy certainly appreciates the lack of bombast. It grew on me, and the period where it is more pronounced in its floral and musk aspects is relatively short (that’s the period I like least).

A bit of a tricky scent for a tricky time – and I have come to appreciate such tricks.