Perfume Review: Bond No 9 Andy Warhol Silver Factory

By Tom One of the things I used to do as a teen was subscribe to "Interview" magazine. "Interview" back in the day was started by Andy Warhol as "The Crystal Ball Of Pop", and when I was getting it in the early 80's was a large-format magazine printed on non-glossy paper with gorgeous covers that looked like a cross between air-brushing and graffiti; impossibly handsome pictures of the impossibly handsome stars of the day. Diana Ross, Richard Gere, Goldie Hawn; glossy ads and fluffy interviews that practically screamed to my teenage eyes "MOVE TO NEW YORK!!". So I did. I've covered that time in what some would speak of as exhausting detail in my blog, so I won't go into it here. Suffice it to say that the Studio 54 years were dead, even if Andy was not. The Factory was still in the space it moved to in 1968, but certainly was not the nexus of cool it was in the day. Union Square was ripe for renewal, indeed the old Factory space is now a Barnes & Noble, which they will tell you about, entirely unaware of the irony. I used to see Andy on occasion, wandering around SoHo or out at clubs, looking frail and rather old to my young eyes, but still Andy Warhol, platinum wig and all; still fabulous. I was almost not looking forward to trying this one- I am not mad about Bond No. 9 in general; so far there hasn't been one that I've wanted to pop for a full bottle. This one may have changed my mind. Silver Factory starts off very cold: almost as chilly as Gris Clair's camphored lavender. There's a knife edge of metal to it, a tinfoil bite that I wonder if it's supposed to literally remind one of the walls of the Factory. It is, however in no way austere in the way that Gris Clair is, the Lutens' lavender makes you think of a high-mountain meadow with it's dark stone church incense note. Silver Factory is foil covered walls and incense bought on 14th street, a party to load up on whatever one was going to load up on before hitting the clubs. There are discernible flowers in there: there's jasmine and iris and violets running in and out, like flower children fighting for the make-up mirror and quite (yes, for me, the skank-killer) a bit of dirt. There's a buzzy happiness about all that incense and flowery piquancy that I find quite delightful; it also at least in the first hour seems to be quite the sillage-monster, so boys go steadily in the application. I also recommend dabbing this one on as I did, at least for guys. I can't imagine the cloud you'd be trailing spraying this on. Having written that, once that first hour elapses some of the party-animal note dry down and it becomes very wearable, as March writes, you won't feel like go-go boots or Joe Dallesandro will be a necessary accessory to pull this one off. Oh, and this is easily the coolest bottle that's come out lately. The Campbell Soup looking logo on Bond's signature star-shaped bottle is a winner. It's $230 for 100ML, and it may be necessary in my life soon. Note to Bond No. 9: you have at Saks Beverly Hills two of the most charming SA's I've ever met at that store. Have them cloned. Now.