Category Archives: Cologne

The House of Creed provides the fragrance that kicks off this year’s holiday season. A birthday gift from this past summer, I’ve held onto it, keeping patient and calm as much as I wanted to break this bad boy open and spritz away ~ it is such a delicious scent. But don’t take my fumbling words for it ~ read what the official literature says about ‘Royal Oud’, from the House of Creed:

Wood, leather, marble, and gold. These luxurious elements of a Persian palace are the inspiration behind the architecture of Royal Oud. Precious, sweet oud is carefully extracted from agarwood trees, a carefully-guarded resource that grows only in certain parts of India. Oud’s rarity lends to the expense of the fragrance’s coveted raw materials, prized by both the men and women who wear it. A fashionable favorite amongst today’s royals and heads of state, Royal Oud’s universal blend bottles the splendor of palace life across continents.

Oddly enough, it’s not the oud that hits hardest with this one. It opens a bit dirty for me, in as elegant and royal a way as dirty can sometimes be, and for that reason alone I was instantly in love with it. In a year when we remain stuck at home for the most part, this is the time to wear something polarizing, to try and experiment, to challenge one’s olfactory comfort zone in an environment not bound by office courtesy or public decorum.

‘Royal Oud’ is a big banging bomb of a scent in the best possible way, and it’s absolutely sublime for the start of the holidays. With its woody and musky heart, which I get from the opening blast as well, this is a glorious doozy. The beginning is sparked and softened by a warm spicy element with some lovely pink pepper brightened in jewel-like splendor with lemon and Sicilian bergamot. 

Sumptuous and refined, with that sparkling kernel of underlying dirtiness lending it a little wink, ‘Royal Oud’ is a warmer offering from Creed, which often veers a little cold and clinical for my liking. This one smolders in dramatic fashion, a little messy and a little opulent ~ royalty reborn.

Out of boredom and isolation, I did something I always advise against doing: a blind fragrance buy. In this case it was a bottle of Aesop’s ‘Tacit’ which is absolutely my new favorite summer scent, so the stupid and moronic gamble paid off. It doesn’t usually work out that way, so be wary. The literature on ‘Tacit’ sounded glorious (Jo Malone‘s combo of Basil and Neroli has always been an unexpectedly enjoyable whimsy, one much I may have to revisit to enhance this basil experience). 

Tacit was born of two key inspirations: the fresh notes of traditional colognes and the culture, topography and fragile perfumed vegetation of the Mediterranean coast. It is familiar in its Yuzu-inspired citrus notes, yet innovative in inclusion of Basil to deliver a green accord with delicate spicy clove-like undertones.

I love a citrus scent for summer, even if I know they won’t last. Issey Miyake’s take on yuzu is a collegiate bottle of summer I once used for a Yuzu Summer Party (yes, we’ve had parties centered around a citrus and a cologne, what’s the question?) Hermes does a delicious grapefruit with their Eau de pamplemousse rose, and there is a Grapefruit Lime concoction by The 7 Virtues that is divine.

Tacit combines the citrus-zest of yuzu with the green, herbal essence of basil, which pushes it into slightly fruitier territory, wrapped up in the one part that was the biggest gamble for me – vetiver. I hadn’t been a big fan of vetiver since a downstairs neighbor in my college years wore it, and wore it badly. Those kinds of experiences tint and shade our fragrance views, whether warranted or not. I did not return to it until Tom Ford coaxed me into a winter try with his ‘Grey Vetiver’ and I realized if done with a citrus I could handle it. Happily, it also holds true for ‘Tacit’.

That yuzu and basil combination is perfect for summer, and the vetiver propels it into something that lasts – not usually a requisite for this season’s scent, when you don’t want a heavy fragrance to stick. It retains a freshness for a couple of hours, and you won’t mind a reapplication because it’s that delightfully effervescent. 

I don’t love New York City.

There, I said it. (Even if I’m missing it a bit these days.)

I’ve been visiting periodically since I was a kid, but I have yet to fall in love with it. Mostly it’s because the things I love to do (theater and shopping and eating) are often closest to the things I hate most (crowds and tourists and Times Square). Still, I have grown to having a great fondness for certain elements of the city, particularly those fanciful edges of Central Park, where storied histories of places like the Plaza and Tiffany’s brush with modern day whimsy if you catch the light and the moment just right. Such magical alchemy was in mixing mode a few years ago when my Mom and I were visiting on one of our Broadway weekends for Mother’s Day. We had split up in the gender-designated buildings of Bergdorf Goodman and I was perusing the handsome cologne section, where curved glass and wood provided elegant carriage and support for all of Tom Ford’s Private Blends. On this day, however, there was nothing new in Ford’s olfactory world, and the salesperson was instead edging me toward what was then called By Kilian – a line of obscenely-priced bottles that promised various sensual experiences with names like ‘Straight to Heaven‘ or ‘Flower of Immortality’ or the one she was pushing on me now, ‘Bamboo Harmony’.

Having just come in from the street, on a day when the sun was brilliant but bordering on just too hot when all that surrounds you is concrete, I was looking for something light and fresh, something to loosen the claustrophobic debris of the city. As she waved the sample card in the air, I fell instantly in love with the refreshing and delicate aroma of white tea wafting about as it dissipated into the refined and rarefied air of Bergdorf Goodman. Not in a financial position to splurge on anything so decadent, I pocketed the sample card, thanked her profusely, and made my way back onto Madison to find Mom.

The verdant glow of Central Park was in the distance, the sun was still shining, and a glorious spring afternoon in New York was at hand. It was the closest I would come to loving the city, and it was close enough. It was also a revelation – the way a whiff of a scent could open up a portal to light and space and freshness even in the middle of the most crowded city in the country.

I thought of ‘Bamboo Harmony’ when our state suddenly found itself in the midst of a stay-at-home shutdown, and the abstract notion of feeling confined suddenly fell into concrete, home-bound form. I remembered the way it had instantly changed the day, transforming the crowded and cramped notion of New York City into something breezy and effervescent. Surely if a scent could produce such results in the face of soaring, skyscraping omnipotence, then it might do the same with any slight hint of restless confinement I might be feeling at home.

It arrived as a 10^thanniversary present from Andy, and on that sunny morning, before I even turned the laptop on for the start of another work-at-home day, I sprayed a small spritz on my wrist. Once again, harmony was instantly conjured. The walls disappeared, the darkness lifted, and any close-quartered tension evaporated. A forest of sky-high bamboo floated before me, alternately kissed and obscured by the peaceful veils of passing clouds, delicately undulating in the slightest of breezes. The heavenly top notes of bergamot and neroli are there, in the barest and best of ways, not strangling anything with sweetness, and then the tea scent emerges, along with some fig and oakmoss that lends the proceedings an earthy green element in perfect keeping with their intended bamboo connotations.

Is this what bamboo really smells like? Not at all.

Does it matter? Not in the least.

We live in the imagined realm of a floating world; reality is far too dark and dreary to confront without a cape of fragrance billowing off our shoulders.

I’ve never worn cologne for other people. I wear it solely for myself. Well that’s not entirely true – I did wear Calvin Klein’s ‘Eternity’ for the benefit of an ex-girlfriend who said she loved it. But after that, I wore what I liked, and to hell with anyone who didn’t appreciate it. That came to mind as I was contemplating a new cologne. My mind has been tempted by a few selections for spring, when suddenly I had a brief moment of wondering what point there would be with nowhere to wear it. This same thought has stopped me from buying new clothes of late (gasp!), but as I worked through the idea I realized I have never worn cologne for anyone other than me, and I’m still here. No reason not to smell good, especially when cooped up in the house. In fact, one could argue that now is the best time to order a new cologne! So let’s have at it. I never did get a proper Valentine’s Day gift… Here are the options, and I’m leaning toward the third one in case you’re narrowing it down:

Tom Ford – One of his very first Private Blends has been calling to me, and the call is getting progressively louder and more insistent. I think I must have ‘Tobacco Vanille’ and sooner rather than later. 

Frederic Malle – This fragrance house is teasing me with its ‘Portrait of a Lady’ – a scent said to be favored by none other than Madonna, but unlike some of her treacly tuberose choices, this is a smoky rose that is divinity incarnate.

Kilian – So it really comes down to this, because Kilian is the house behind one of the most exquisite scents I own. The offerings previously mentioned, while always welcome, are in the rear-view window as far as seasonal scenting goes. ‘Bamboo Harmony’ by Kilian is where we currently are, and with a few new bamboo plants on the horizon for our home, this looks to be the peaceful fragrance to see us into the spring and summer months. It also has a lovely memory associated with it, but I’ll save that for when and if I can actually try it on at home. (It’s available at Neiman Marcus here (and with their sale code ‘SELFCARE’ through tomorrow it’s actually cheaper than Amazon) but if you miss it here’s the link to the item on Amazon.)

Winter demands something clean in a fragrance. The holidays call for excess and fancy finery, and by the time January rolls around I want to shake off that heaviness for something light and clean. Tom Ford’s lighter Private Blends are decidedly summer-slanting, as are the gorgeous perfumes of the Hermes Jardin line. Winter doesn’t want for something sweet. Like the finest cocktails, winter scents are best left on the dry side. A bit woodsy, a bit smoky, and with just a touch of leather. Enter the Huntsman.

A Christmas gift from Andy (after I tried it out on this year’s Holiday Stroll) this is Jo Malone’s ‘Birch & Black Pepper’ cologne, a part of their Huntsman line, currently offered exclusively at Neiman Marcus. (So much for avoiding excess; no place on earth is more extra than NM.) With its top notes of black pepper lending a spicy factor which gives it some heat, this is a dry scent that goes well with the season. The birch notes kick in shortly thereafter, giving it a smoky resin that marries beautifully with the pepper. Dry and warm, with a hint of leather for rugged comfort, it revolves around a base note of gurjum, giving it a heart of wood that staves off the coldest winter wind.

Like many of Malone’s works, ‘Birch & Black Pepper’ is a straight-forward reading of its namesake ingredients (at least, at close to birch as a fragrance is ever going to get), but slightly more potent than the usual light-as-air offerings this house tends to favor. Indicative of its higher price point, there is a bit more staying power, though it still requires multiple sprays to retain anything that’s going to be noticed.

That’s good for winter though, when we are all confined to small spaces with stuffy uncirculated air. This one opens up nicely into such confines, then lets you go on your merry way without commitment or offense.

When throwing a Flower Party, the featured fragrance should be, well, floral, no matter how non-groundbreaking that may be. At the very least, the invitations should have a floral scent to them. Enter Balenciaga’s sumptuously flowery ‘Florabotanica’ -which is what I used when crafting summer invitations earlier this season.

Oddly enough, I never used to be a fan of florals for fragrance. There are exceptions, and summer is the time when they happen: I love a neroli or a bergamot for the hot days – and any sort of citrus blossom is enough to bring back sunny memories that may or may not have actually happened. The feeling it invokes is so sweet, however, that it doesn’t matter. They’ve come to exist on a memory plane that belongs solely to them.

Balenciaga created a pair of fine florals a couple of years ago, and Florabotanica spoke to me because it had a green freshness that worked to temper the sweetness of its floral focus. The literature for this fragrance is as over-the-top as the scent itself, so of course I adore it:

The astonishing FLORABOTANICA came to life in a four-hand score. The two composers are Olivier Polge and Jean-Christophe Hearault. These two internationally renowned noses have written a music of scents that play on two major accords, like a plant world within a world. The Vetiver, Amber and Caladium Leaf accord to create a resonance of mossy and mysterious dark wood. And the Rose, Carnation and Mint accord like an exhilarating note with juvenile freshness. It should be specified that we are not talking about those extremely well-known roses from the Vulgaris Rosacea family. It is a hybrid rose born of the olfactory imagination of our two orchestrators. We cannot reveal all the secrets of these two floral, alchemists, but the Experimental Rose finds its origins in opulent Turkey. To give it a fairytale air, the two perfumers have added a formula of psychosensory plants, making it particularly enchanting. This Experimental Rose has the power to endlessly charm.

This isn’t one for everyday wear in my world – it’s too potent and dramatic. (And if I’m saying that, take heed.) But it is a beauty, one that opens up like its proverbial rose inspiration, and dries down to a slightly more delicate form. It is definitely floral as fuck, and shot through with enough greenhouse dreaminess to entwine the wearer with wreaths and tendrils of jungle sweetness. A guaranteed precursor of a summer swoon to those brave enough to try it on.

Les Colognes Louis Vuitton.

Those words taken together should strike terror into Andy’s heart, because the last time I experienced a Louis Vuitton obsession he was generous enough to gift me with one of their classic Keepall bags at a price point which shall remain absent on this site. The fact that they have been doing fragrance for a couple of years was not lost on me, but I never ventured into any research or experimentation because, well, money.

With the Les Colognes collection, a trio of summer-inspired scents looked as if the House of Vuitton might be making a more mainstream attempt at fragrance at a slightly more affordable level. (And it turns out that at $250 one gets 100 mL, which is roughly the same cost of a Tom Ford Private Blend, only with twice as much product.) Enough vulgar cash conversation, we are here to determine the merits of the scents themselves, not a financial lesson which I have no business giving.

Jacques Cavalier Belletrud is the perfumer behind the three offerings: Afternoon Swim, Cactus Garden, and Sun Song. Artist Alex Israel was tapped to design the flacons and packaging – brilliant, colorful works of art in vibrant shades of blue, green and yellow – ideal for the sunny, beachy, summery feel of the set. It sounds heavenly, as much for the specific notes as for the season they portend. Sun Song offers the sweet citrus of orange blossom; Cactus Garden gives off a green, lemongrass effervescence; and Afternoon Swim, on paper at least, sounds like my perfect cup of summer sun tea, with its mandarin and bergamot breeziness.

Citrus is notorious for its fleeting nature, gone too soon like summer itself, but this is the one season of the year where I don’t mind so much. Heavy, cloying, monsters of sillage have no place in the lighter days when heat and humidity strike down all in their path. Besides, a re-application during the day is a welcome boost when the afternoon starts lagging.

Of course, this throws a sweetly-scented wrench into the spring/summer cologne proceedings, which up to this point have been dominated by selections from Hermes and Diana Vreeland and possibly Tom Ford. Will Louis Vuitton topple such venerable favorites? Only the summer knows…

Not to be outdone by Tom Ford (as if!) the house of Diana Vreeland has released ‘Staggeringly Beautiful’ – which sounds, on paper at least, to be one of their strongest releases in a while. I’m still trying to find an anniversary fragrance, and the Vreeland line has proved lucky in the past, with their ‘Vivaciously Bold‘ showstopper and its bright green bottle with a Tiffany-blue tassel. The new release reads like heaven:

“You have to have a dream.” – Diana Vreeland

An ode to Diana Vreeland’s broad vision of beauty. She redefined beauty and found it where it never existed before—it could be a unique attribute like a gap between front teeth or the length of a woman’s neck; a shade of crimson that reminded her of a Balenciaga cape; the vibrant sound of Notre Dame’s bells, or the unforgettable golden light of the sun setting on a hot summer day.

Vibrant, sparkling and transportive, Staggeringly Beautiful perfectly captures the cool breezes, sparkling clear water, and lush, rich foliage of the summer aromas along the Mediterranean.

The amazing aura of Staggeringly Beautiful comes from the rarely combined earthy fig leaf with the delicious fig fruit. The beautiful bouquet is then induced with citrus elements from Sicilian bergamot and paired with the rarely used jonquil (daffodil), a flower native to France, the heart exudes rich, green, floral characteristics.