Hermes Brin de Reglisse and Hermessence Ambre Narguile

HERMES BRIN de REGLISSE: I like Hermes as a brand. Like, but not necessarily love. I admire the craftsmanship, the attention to detail, the quality of the materials used. The designs are classic almost to a fault -- when you buy something Hermes, there's little chance that it will ever go out of style . . . but this might also be my biggest issue with the Hermes line.

I've read blog readers cheer each other on to buy yet one more Birkin bag, as if ten weren't enough -- "but there's a new one in pink ostrich! yellow crocodile! purple suede!" and so on. Last week, I came across a blog post on BagSnob that spotlighted some poor obsessive-compulsive's collection of 74 Hermes bags -- and you know what? They looked almost exactly the same, all lined up next to each other like little shoulder soldiers. The only noticeable differences were the sizing, textures and colors.

I have no issue with the money spent -- it's the woman's money and she's free to spend it on therapy and the appropriate prescription medication for what seems like a serious mental affliction, or, in the absence of both of those, more Birkin bags; but I do take issue with the absolute lack of any creativity involved. I mean, if you're going to exhibit about as much impulse control as a starving wolf at a petting zoo, then a little experimentation wouldn't hurt; after all, there's more to the smörgåsbord of lifestyle indulgence than just fluffy Hermes bunnies on a cracker. Branch out, try something new. It's good for the soul.

And this is what I feel like saying to the corporate heads at Hermes when I sniff at most of their fragrances: "Okay, I get it, you're about understated Q-U-A-L-I-T-Y. Now can you bottle me something that doesn't send my nose into a narcoleptic coma?"

Brin Reglisse is a lavender fragrance that's . . . nice. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it, and it's just about as perfectly balanced as anything you'd expect from Jean Claude Ellena. Dry. Suitable for any occasion. Subtle. Classy. Transparent. Sheer. Unobtrusive. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

Oh, and it lasts about a nanosecond, too, which I would say is a blessing in disguise as it's likely to bore you near to paralysis anyway. I barely escaped with my life.

HERMESSENCE AMBRE NARGUILE: much like the above, only substitute "amber" for "lavender."

To be fair, Ambre Narguile does exhibit much more wattage and lasting power than Brin de Reglisse (though that's hardly much of an accomplishment), and it's an amber that restrains itself from tripping the sugar fantastic -- a point in its favor.

In fact, Ambre Narguile is actually a very pleasant, woodsy-amber fragrance graced with a bit of incense smoke and mellow spices. It's dry. Subtle. Subdued. Classy. Unobtrusive. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

Note: There's always an exception to the rule, and Un Jardin Apres la Mousson is an exception to the Hermes snooze rule. Doblis would be an exception, too, if they still produced it.

OFF-TOPIC (and strictly for entertainment purposes):

It's funny how all it takes is a Star Wars parody and suddenly you're a YouTube sensation; of course, it also helps when you can sing like gangbusters:

Thank to the BF for alerting me to the clip.