Solange: Stoned and Cosmic

Solange Azagury-Partridge is an independent jeweler with a roster of celebrity clients and a reputation for individual style, cost be damned. This attitude is allegedly reflected in her two perfumes, created by perfumer Lyn Harris of Miller Harris fame -- though the cost be damned attitude appears to be focused more into the cooler than thou bottles rather than the candied, powdery and (frankly) anonymous liquids dumped inside them.

Which is kind of a shame, really, as the Solange jewelry lines are truly stunning -- decorative art pieces that are the obvious result of a passion for visual design. Examples below:

(click to enlarge)

But where Solange Azagury-Partridge designs the jewelry herself, her two perfumes, Stoned and Cosmic, are works for hire. Now, hiring Lyn Harris to create perfumes for your jewelry line indicates that you're serious about producing high-quality fragrances, but even the best of artisans can stumble when trying their hand at something new, Solange Azagury-Partridge included.

I imagine that Lyn Harris was initially excited to work with Ms. Solange, but once the ink was dry on the contract, the excitement must have curdled when she confronted what had to have been obstacle after obstacle placed in the way of a genuinely creative collaboration. The marching orders probably went something like this:

"I want perfumes that are truly unique and different and out-there. Yes, something amazing and inspiring and *sniff sniff* Oh! Not THAT unique and different and out-there! I need to sell a lot of the stuff, you know. Money in the cash register is good for the bottom line, and god knows that high-end jewelry can be a hard sell in even the best of times. So I want my customers to immediately love these perfumes, to spray them on and believe that they are at once special and singular and *sniff sniff* Holy mother of god! Not THAT special and singular. Are you out of your mind? I only want to give them the IDEA that they're unique, and I certainly don't need a crazy-ass, Frenchified, fine and dandy fragrance to do that. Can't you just concoct something that smells like a huge best seller? What do you mean, what best seller? Hell, I don't know, how about White Diamonds? That sells by the boatload! Oh, hey, Lyn, honey, what's the matter? Why are you crying?"

And so Lyn Harris' heart must have sank to what felt like the deep, dark bottom of the Mariana Trench, but she honored her contract and proffered two uber-feminine, candy-coated, powder & patchouli potions that smell like the baby aisle at a Berkeley WalMart and were merely the excuse for Solange Azagury-Partridge to do what she really wanted to do -- design expensive, bejeweled perfume bottles to contain them. Because, really, when you're a jeweler and your name is on the bottle, you want it to be all about you and not the perfumer you hired, right?

Obviously.

And then, of course, Ms. Solange dredges up the brilliant marketing ploy of adding diamond dust to one fragrance (Stoned) and meteor dust to the other fragrance (Cosmic), which doesn't affect the smell of the perfumes even one teensy tiny bit, but makes for terrific PR copy and helps to justify the brain-boggling prices charged per bottle. I mean, she's an exclusive jeweler to the stars, right? It's not like she could get away with slapping a $75.00 price tag on a bottle of boring, powdery fragrance that any average Jane could afford. What could possibly be exclusive about that?

Indeed.

And so goes my imaginary tale of the creation of Stoned and Cosmic. It starts out as a romance and ends up a tragedy, as many romances are inclined to do.

The bottles for both fragrances are pretty fantastic, however, and will look striking on any vanity counter, dresser top, bathroom shelf, etc. Hardly anyone (if anyone) you know would own a bottle, so they would certainly be conversation pieces, and could also double as relatively inexpensive ways to buy into the Solange jewelry lifestyle -- hip, rich and in the know, you know?

Of course you do, and this is why high-end jewelers have perfumes designed for them in the first place. Can't afford the diamond, emerald and star sapphire necklace you just tried on in a fit of whimsy? Buy the perfume, instead! It looks like a positive steal in comparison and you'll feel elated as you exit the store, logo stamped shopping bag swinging on your stylish arm.

Yet while wearing a Solange Azagury-Partridge ring, necklace or bracelet will undoubtedly draw immediate, admiring and envious glances from everyone within your glittering vicinity, it's reasonable to guess that wearing one of the Solange fragrances will leave you wondering, instead, why it was that you felt the need to fork over several hundred dollars for some over-priced, dust-flaked liquid that doesn't differentiate you one whit from the Johnson & Johnson baby-powdered infant snoozing in a stroller next to the table where you're sipping your Starbucks latte.

Reality intrudes, elation deflates, you can just hear the words echoing in your head: "I'm sorry, we don't offer money back on our fragrances, but we will give you store credit." Ka-ching!

It's just hype, my dear. A lot of cleverly worded, flowery-phrased hype. My advice is not to buy into it. You have way better options out there, trust me -- and while the bottles probably won't be as cool, and you won't get the fantasy of diamond dust and meteor flakes, I can safely say that the actual fragrance experiences will be far, far more singular and rewarding in the long run.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have skin that's screaming to be scrubbed clean of all things Solange.

UPDATE:

In the cause of fairness, I have to post that I sent a 5ml decant of Solange Stoned to a powder-loving perfume fiend (hello, Deev!), and she about fell into a rapturous coma of ecstatic proportions when she tried it on.

This is what she said: "The Stoned arrived last night and I am testing that bad boy today. My immediate impression was "HABANITA!" It really is a great deal like Habanita, but ... it's got the cigarette note (which I really hate) turned way down, and there's a berry note of some sort (raspberry?) added. I'm thoroughly enjoying it. I'm looking forward to seeing how it morphs through the morning."

She sent another message about an hour later: ".....aaaaaaaaaand now, I'm well into the drydown, and it is beeyootiful. It's reminding me a bit of Le Dix now, but warmer." She then proceeds to curse me for introducing her to a ridiculously expensive perfume that she now loves, which was kind of my point about the Solange fragrances in the first place -- they're perfectly lovely, but it's the bottles you're really paying for, and those bottles are darn expensive.

I am so not a powder lovin' guy, but I'm now going to learn to appreciate the scent rather than automatically dismiss it so that I can justly represent for all the members of the powder-puff gang. It won't be my specialty, but there's no sense in dissing just cuz I don't understand.

That said, Stoned was, in my mind, a much better fragrance than Cosmic. Prettier, sweeter, softer. The patchouli that rises up at the end is indeed a nice one.