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Bois de Paradis photographed by The Scent Critic against vintage San Francisco postcards
The Scent Critic is writing this review with a slightly broken heart – because not long after snapping this photo, I dropped my precious bottle of Bois de Paradis in the sink, shattering it, only to watch $140 of fragrance glug down [...]
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Shalimar Parfum Initial photographed by Jo Fairley at its One Marylebone launch
Every now and then the folks at Guerlain have a go at tweaking Shalimar to make it more appealing to a younger audience. Or bring in a groovy bottle designer (groovesters don’t get much groovier than Jade Jagger), to sassy up the flacon [...]
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Puredistance M photographed at Kettner's by Jo Fairley on a slate tabletop
Perfume doesn’t bite. It won’t kill you. So at fragrance press launches The Scent Critic is eternally gobsmacked, frankly, when fellow journalists don’t bother to do more than waft a blotter under their noses when being shown a new perfume.
Fact: they’re not everyday [...]
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Skin. Warm skin. Warm, sexy skin. Warm, sexy, kissable skin. At the end of the day, isn’t that what we’d all like a fragrance to smell like…? And of course, they all do, after a while: blood-warmed, after the dry-down, our own natural, signature body aroma emerges through its veil of perfume elements. But a [...]
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First of all, I’d like to point out that despite the fact this fragrance harks back to the era of fur tippets and flapper dresses, no chinchillas were harmed in the photography of this bottle. (The fur in my photo is entirely faux. Thanks, Restoration Hardware; the Davy Crockett hat’s come into its own in [...]
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The Scent Critic always wanted to be older than she was. (Until recently, anyway: that ambition’s definitely lost its allure.) So, looking back, my fragrance choices were ludicrously sophisticated for a teenager. While my friends were swathing themselves in Avon Honeysuckle, my tastes were distinctly more mature – and that’s where Clinique Aromatics Elixir, currently [...]
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This latest in a trio of aptly-named Sensuous fragrances from Estée Lauder has rather tickled The Scent Critic’s fancy. And her nostrils. Really and truly tickled her nostrils. Because at first spritz, this is like putting your nose inside a bag of sherbet-y sweets. Flying saucers, maybe. Or the head-rush of poking your face [...]
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For someone who’s never taken so much as a puff of a cigarette in her life, it’s perhaps a little odd that The Scent Critic is addicted to smokiness. Give me an open fire. A steaming pot of Lapsang Souchong (actually, give me that at 4 p.m. sharp in the afternoon and I’ll worship you [...]
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It’s downright weird how one fragrance can lead you to another, like a sort of olfactory tennis-elbow-foot game. The Scent Critic would have put money on Dior’s Vétiver – the second in the Collection Privée that I’ll be reviewing – taking me in the direction of, say, Guerlain’s legendary Vétiver, or maybe the bestselling Grey [...]
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Once upon a time, in her slightly misspent youth, The Scent Critic was an artist’s muse. (She is now slightly at that oh-heck-I’d-better-buy-up-all-those-nudes stage in life, but since the artist went on to become rather collectible, that’s not really an option.)
What I’m leading up to is that I know only too well what the inside [...]
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