Ormonde Jayne Woman is a far better woman than me

You know that quietly elegant woman, impeccably dressed, says the right thing all the time, and never attends  a party with out a very thoughtful hostess gift? She’s the one with perfect bone structure and slimness that allows her to wear pretty much anything with an Audrey Hepburn like grace.   Yeah, I am not her, but Ormonde Jayne Woman surely is. 

OJW isn’t anything really unusual, except for the fact that it list black hemlock as one of the notes which sounded soo intriguing, bewitching and darkly dangerous.  Gothic poison would be the words I would most associate with the percieved smell of Black Hemlock.  Honestly, I don’t really get any of that from this perfume and feel a bit cheated when I think of what could have been.  Granted, I have no idea what black hemlock smells like.  For all I know it’s more chamomile and cream than it is bubble, bubble, toil and trouble, but listing the note suggests  dark, dangerous black widow style seduction.  But alas, like with my Madragore (Annick Goutal’s Mandrake Perfume in a purple to DIE FOR bottle.  should have been deadly, bot droningly pleasant. ) dreams, it was not to be. 

It begins with dried herbs and greeness.  The first few wears, it was dusty grass and dried, old spices in a dirtyish cabinent that has been unattended to for awhile.  Meaning, the spices had little vibrance left and have been overtaken by a larger canister of parsley.  Just dried green and a tiny trace of unidentifiable wood-spice.   Later it morphs into flowerpetal-flavor – – not the scent of flowers, but the taste in your mouth should you eat some edible flowers–slight silk but vegetal with woods.  Usually, I got bored and forgot to notice I was wearing perfume. 

Lately, I have begun to see a glimmer of what everyone raves about.  Now I get very quiet spice in the opening, though it is still drowned out with the green scent wafting from a window.  The florals have developed into a very soft scent of an elegant bouquet of whites in a tall vase, probably arranged at teh direction of Martha Stewart, elegant and appropriate.  Woods are still present tinged with the tiniest bit of something creamier.

This seems very “just -so” to me.  Well manicured buffed nails, no color.  Shiny straight hair.  Scarves and blazers and chardonnay.  OJW possesses the certain maturity of a woman who is over asserting her sensual side, or just gave up on being bombshell and embraced her graceful and almost annoying perfection.  BTW  she is NEVER seen in a sweat suit or bothering with the PTA, not a suburban girl at all.

Lovely as it is, and LOVELY being the most apt word to describe it, it is definately not me. Perhaps I haven’t reached that level of maturity, or perhaps I am much to innately sensual to fall in love with OJW.  WHatever the case, it’s nice to sniff from time to time as a change of pace.  But, like visiting away from home, you don’t completely belong there and look forward to returning.  It would, however, be more appropriate for other women in my life, and oddly, as discussed on NowSmellThis, Hermione Granger.

I have about half the sample bottle left, which I have decided to put away for awhile revisit when the mood strikes.  It may not be love, but it might be an aspiration.  Though I would never give up my curvy style for the gamine grace of Audrey, my figure would fight that one every step of the way.  Could we be somewhat physically pre disposed to certain perfume types by our body shapes?  Often we choose due to mood or who we want to become, though I do not wonder that certain perfumes appeal to people with certain natural attributes to carry them off.   

notes: cardamom, coriander, grass oil, black hemlock, violet, jasmine absolute, vetiver, cedar, amber and sandalwood

Published in: on June 23, 2008 at 10:41 am  Comments (5)  

Where is PerfumeQueen?

sorry all out out there looking for new postings!  But I am having terrible allergies which makes me asonimic (unable to smell) several notes.  Thus reviewing perfumes is sort of not going to happen til it goes away or I get a rare day where I can smell things as normal again. 

So a Challenge . . .

 

What perfume to wear to a 10 year reunion?  I used to be the super tiny, bookish, kinda insecure little nobody is school.  The kind ignored or picked on by the popular kids and ran with the intellectuals.  (which, in retrospect was a much better way to go.)  Now…I’m out to conquer!  I’ve blossomed into a full fledged female with fatale leanings…

 

suggestions?  Might post a top ten list on this one later.

 

Til the allergies clear, see you!

Published in: on June 19, 2008 at 8:13 pm  Comments (4)  

amoureuse

Lately I’ve had a case of the snark.  I’ve been mentally composing reviews that tear perfumes to shreds and it makes me feel all black and evil inside.  When such a mood strikes, the best course of action is to wear something you l-o-o-o-o-ve and get up the go to write about it. 

Amoureuse has had many loving mentions in my blog over the  almost year.  It’s one of those perfumes I reach for often, yet have been intimidated to write about how gloriously sultry, heady, feminine wonderful it is.  Seriously.  Delrae Roth should consider paying me (in perfume, of course!) to spokeswoman for the stuff. I’d sing it’s praises from the highest mountain top my 4 inch heels could climb.  It’s that amazing.

So what does it smell like for the few poor souls huddling on the cold outside of her warm embrace? It is said that Amoureuse’s inspiration drew from the box trees in San Francisco.  I’ve never smelled a box tree and couldn’t tell you if that is the spirit of the perfume.  What I smell instead is a sultry, glamourous, seductive Bollywood vision of India. The perfume unfolds something like a langourous dance of the seven veils….

Around Christmas, citrus fruit, especially tangerines and clementines are at thier peak in Texas.  They are absolutely ripe-juicy and begging to have the just soft enough skin peeled back to release the fruit.  When you dig in your nail to strip the peel off, you notice a fine spray of what seems to be almost a powder of citrus essence released into the air.  Your nostrils fill with the sweet scent of the fruit peppered with a slight bittery tinge of pith.   That is the tangerine opening of Amoureuse.   Cardamon and honey give the sweet tangerine a kick that leaves those in your wake staggering, wondering what exotic thing walked by at the fruit market.  Every so often a bit of moss contrasts the sweet spice, hinting at the dark secrets beneath the gorgeous stranger’s (that’s you, wearer) veil.   Soon, underneath the honey, flowers begin to bloom.  Warm Tuberose, skin like nearly rotting, jasmine and cool lily alternate between heady creaminess and the peppery spice of indolence.  It’s animalic-like a small pile of unwashed lacy under-things still clinging to the last bit of the night’s perfume as well as a more natural aroma. 

Almost indecently, Amoureuse sheds each perfumed veil down to near bare skin and a little sweetly perfumed sweat.  The sheer colored veils are strewn about the floor giving wisps of spice, green and florals.  The dancer (once again you!) shines with beads of sweat and promises of a private performance, somewhere sandalwood incense burns and heads swim dizzily with pleasure. 

Could the romantic interlude be a karmasutric, Sting-like Tantric affair?  Yes, somedays it is long and drawn out tantalizing you for hours with heady spice and skin.  Other Sunny days it’s making love in a field of flowers.  Madly bright, joyous and ripe with lots of laughter. 

Amouruese is seasonless, blooming in summer heat and warming in the winter’s chill.  I also hold the opinion it will become timeless as well.  In other reviews it has been said that if Patou’s Joy were composed today, we would have gotten Amoureuse.  I think I must agree.  Joy is a lovely jasmine-tuberose work, though composed with a powdery, soapy edge.  This approach is a bit dated these days, though once it was a true treasure–very expensive and worn with abandon and “joy” by those who chose it as thier own.  Amoureuse contains the same jasmine-tuberose idea, however the twist of spice, animalics and incense draw a more faceted woman. One who wishes to be and often can be exotic and darkly seductive in her form-fitting pencil skirts or sheer veils, however doesn’t hesitate to thrown on white shorts and a ginham top for an outdoor picnic and love fest.  She’s a bombshell with a multiple personalities. 

Delrae’s Amoureuse can be found at Luckyscent and a few other spots online, along with the coordinating body cream, which is divine as well.  I’ve also had an email from Delrae that reveals there will be three NEW RELEASES for the line later this fall.  The line’s body of work is extraordinary art and I am dying to get my hands on the new releases as soon as they come out as I am sure they will be wonderful too. 

notes: tangerine, cardamom, honey, cedar-moss, tuberose, jasmine, ginger lily and sandalwood

favorite quote found in research Amoureuse is “like Mae West with rabies” (baybe on make-up alley)  hit’s it right on the nail.

Published in: on June 2, 2008 at 8:31 pm  Comments (6)