Creed Royal Scottish Lavender

Lavender, a chilly note in and of itself, is not necessarily my favorite fragrance ingredient in cold weather, unless I am looking for an olfactory detox of sorts... if not remorseful corporal mortification... after the holiday excesses. Or unless it is served warm, like in Creed's Royal Scottish Lavender. Built on the same jolting-n-soothing principle as, say, mint hot chocolate, a drink made for snowy days, Royal Scottish Lavender juxtaposes the fresh, bright sharpness of lavender with the sweet, satisfyingly thick velvetiness of vanilla and sandalwood. Like with mint hot chocolate, where the cooling effect of mint somehow tricks your mind into thinking that the beverage, despite being chocolaty, creamy and sweet, is not particularly calorific, Creed's Lavender creates an illusion of transparency and gives me that vague, smug feeling I always get when wearing an herbal(-ish) scent- that in some way the perfume is actually good for me, aroma-therapeutically speaking. Add to that the cushiony, snugly effect of vanilla and sandalwood, and what you have is a great winter comfort scent. If you too don't believe that lavender may be such, do give Creed's rendition a try. Available where Creed is sold, $175.00-$280.00. Image source, creedboutique.com.

Caron Les Plus Belles Lavandes: Perfume Review

This year, I have been rediscovering lavender, and, of course, summer is the perfect season to enjoy the genre. Czech & Speake's Oxford & Cambridge is my "traditional", straight-up, cold and brisk lavender of choice. I also enjoy the note in the context of two Caron masculines, Le 3ème Homme, where it is is served with moss and amber, and L'Anarchiste, which mixes it into an "icy fruity" cocktail. And of course, my top lavender choice (and the main summer fave) is Lostmarh'c's L'Eau de L'Hermine, where lavender is soft, slightly sugared and brightened by the presence of a honeyed citrus accord. With Less Plus Belles Lavandes Caron adds to my small collection of lavenders something that has been missing there: an oriental lavender. Blended with quite a bit of vanilla and a fairly generous dose of amber, this is how the scent manifests itself on my skin - as a fresh oriental. At times, that vanilla-amber-musk accord even tricks me into thinking, for a shocked half a second, that I am wearing CK Obsession. No, really! But forgive me for describing the scent in reverse chronology. Less Belles Plus Lavandes starts with as realistically a lavender as it gets, almost out-shining the herbal-fresh Oxford & Cambridge in its chilly verdancy. Then vanilla tiptoes in, softening the blend delicately. Its presence becomes more and more noticeable and finally culminates in that oriental base, which keeps surprising me every time I wear this fragrance. I have only one negative thing to say about Less Belles Plus Lavandes: I dislike its bottle. This lavender is complex enough and fancy enough to warrant something a little more elegant than the utilitarian and unremarkable container. I wish the scent came in one of Caron's rectangular splash flacons with a tall stopper...So in protest against the bottle, I am not posting its image as an accompaniment to the text. Instead, you are forced to look at yours truly, giddy among the "samovars". Is the new Caron The Most Beautiful Lavender? Well, it is one of the very, very attractive once for sure. But visiting the well-hidden Caron boutique in NYC and spending time with delightful Diane is the most beautiful experience. You can find it inside Phyto Universe, 715 Lexington Ave (58th St).

Lostmarc'h L'Eau de L'Hermine

Those who, like me, shy away from full-on lavender scents, because of their sharpness, and those who, like me, are bored with citrus scents, because of their ubiquitousness, should, like me, find in L'Eau de L'Hermine a wonderfully wearable, soft lavender and an interesting take on citrus. I like it so much, I want to swim in it. Floral sweetness of neroli and peony brings out a honeyed, fruity aspect in lavender. Gentle fluffiness of heliotrope softens the jagged edges of the note and tones down the prickly, nose-tingling freshness of grapefruit and bergamot. There is a certain sweet cleanness or clean sweetness about L'Eau de L'Hermine that I find very appealing. A certain effortless simplicity, which is in fact a sign of harmonious complexity. This is summer in a bottle... the breeze carries the freshness of the sea, the herbal and honeyed aroma of lavender, the candied fragrance of orange blossom...It's a story of how, in the sun, in the face of the endless sea, things come into perspective, entanglements get disentangled and dilemmas come to a natural resolve, all on their own. A Summer Tale. PS. According to Antoine Vuillermet, the creator of Lostmarc'h, "Hermine" in the name of the scent is there to signify Brittany's symbol and flag: "One winter day our queen Anne de Bretagne was hunting the Hermine for its white fur, in front of a dirty pond, the Hermine stoped. Anne was so impressed by the animal's behavior, that she decided it could not be hunted anymore, and became the symbol of all the Breton: "rather dead than dirty", in France (as she married the king) later on the Hermine became the symbol of justice and purity." Available at Beautyhabit and Lostmarch, $85.00 and €55.00 respectively, for 100ml.

Czech & Speake Oxford & Cambridge

"If I am occasionally a little over-dressed, I make up for it by always being immensely over-educated." Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest. By the admission of the creators themselves, this is "a traditional lavender fragrance", "evocative of the English countryside, varsity matches and the great British sporting tradition." Note how the meaning of Oxbridge is thus reduced to sports, therefore proving Ambrose Bierce's statement that academy is a modern school where football is taught. Or rowing, cricket and rugby. The sharp, nose-burning beginning is perhaps meant to put one off, as if saying, this is not the scent for the likes of you. In fact, it is as easy to wear Oxford & Cambridge as it is to be admitted into one or the other. I would know, as somehow I got accepted. Ever since then, as Groucho Marx and Woody Allen have been before me in regards of their clubs, I've been a little suspicious of the university that would have me as a member... But I digress...As the fragrance develops on my skin, it warms up and sweetens. Lavender acquires an almost fruity undertone. I am not sure where the candied note comes from but it counteracts very well the piney coldness of rosemary and the chilly aloofness of mint, making Oxford & Cambridge ever so approachable and lovable. Fresh, but not aggressively so, wearable and versatile, this lavender is a delight even for a lavender-ambivalent person like me. Available at pharmacyny.com for a price that is rather too elitist considering the simplicity of the blend ($115.00 for cologne). But hey, you pay for the name, and I suppose it is worth it.

The Third Man by Caron: Perfume Review

Le 3ème Homme was, in 1985, Caron's third offering for men (and yes, it was supposedly inspired by the eponymous movie). It remains one of their best. In my opinion, it is in fact one of the most attractive masculine scents created by anybody ever. And, as is often the case with chypres meant for men, it smells exquisite on feminine skin...in that chic noli me tangere way all good chypres do, only more so. I am ordinarily not a big fan of lavender and thus the aromatic genre in general. And I am certainly not a fan of anise. In The Third Man, however, both notes are absolutely beautiful. Lavender gives the composition an attractively chilly feel, an intriguing aloofness without any harshness. This handsome stranger, tempts lavender, is someone you would be sorry not to get to know. Anise, together with citrus, lends the unexpectedly almost-gourmand accord of vanilla and tonka bean a certain inedible quality, a thrillingly poisonous aspect. This charmer with a sweet smile, warns anise, is someone you will one day regret meeting. The spicy notes of geranium and carnation continue the piquant theme and further heat the blend. The mossy, ambery, woody base is the very epitome of classic chypre elegance. The Third Man is impeccable, dark and deep. They say, third time is lucky and I am sure a lot of people got lucky whilst wearing this. To find out if it will do its magic for you, look for Le 3ème Homme on perfume.com, among other places.

Perfume Review: Serge Lutens Encens et Lavande

By Tom First off, is there anyplace in this country in which the weather is not majorly sucking? (see, it's so bad I am channeling my inner 80's teen!) Ghastly, humid heat in the North, Auntie-Em sized twisters in the middle, snow (!) in the Northeast, and the Southland is just hot with enough mugginess to make it disgusting. This weekend was Gay Pride and friends tried to drag me there. No thanks, said I. Despite the fact that I went well out of my way to live somewhere where the sun shines 320 days out of the year, I don't like direct sunlight. I also don't like crowds, loud noise and drinking in the afternoon; I wouldn't go to Mardi Gras either. What, if anything you might be asking does this have to do with scent? Well, I did have to think what I was going to wear to the office today (Monday the 9th) while waiting for the new iPhone to debut. You see, my employers in their infinite wisdom have decided that the AC should be turned off on nights and weekends to save energy. Never mind that I work in a building that is inhabited 24/7 by various departments. Never mind that the HVAC system has to go into triple-overdrive on Monday to get our offices to less resemble a sauna by Wednesday. Never mind that it will inconvenience me, ME, Norma Desmond. Now that I have lulled you all into a coma with my morning rant, I will review the scent I chose. Encens et Lavande as you all know is one of the non-export fragrances in the Lutens line, meaning one can only get it by jumping through hoops. Or perhaps waiting for it to show up at Bergdorfs and paying though the nose (heat makes me grumpy). This is saddening, because I prefer this to it's counterpart in the export line, Gris Clair. E et L reverses GC's dance from light to dark: It starts off with the incense and gradually adds in the lavender with just a touch of the camphor that is amped up in the opening of GC. The icy lavender here isn't as forceful as the opening in GC; compared to Encens et Lavande Gris Clair seems somewhat shrill. The drydown marries the disparate elements to a smooth amber base, the whole in my mind making me think of the dark, cool interior of a perhaps abandoned stone church. Could there be anything more perfect on a scorching day? As mentioned, like all of the non-exports, this is available only at the Paris Salon, or can be shipped to you if you live in the EU. Lucky you. Gris Clair meanwhile is available wherever Lutens' export line is sold. Image source, salons-shiseido.com.