February 2009 Archives

MONA DI ORIO AMYITIS: After I groggily applied some Amyitis this a.m., I stumbled downstairs to get myself a much needed cup of coffee. Shortly after, the BF did some stair stumbling of his own, but when he turned the corner into the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks and made the dreaded face of disapproval: eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled, his mouth a tight frown.

"Do you smell detergent? he asked, a distinct note of pre-caffeinated displeasure in his voice. "Uh, no," I lied, and went back to making myself some coffee as he sniffed distastefully at the air a few more times before shuffling off into his supercomputer lair.

It was the Amyitis, and wow did it smell like some kind of vaguely floraled laundry soap. I can understand the desire to smell fresh and clean, though I think Amyitis overdoes it a bit in its opening flourishes; however, like the other two di Orio scents I've tested (Lux and Nuit Noir), the evolution of Amyitis on the skin is like walking into an olfactory hall of mirrors -- the basic scent reflects endlessly and from every conceivable angle until it finally reaches its exit.

What starts off like fresh laundry turns slightly musky (white-ly musky?) and almost tree-sappish before heading off into spring flowers underscored by the memory of frozen earth and wet grasses. I have to admit that this particular genre of fresh, green fragrance is not my thing, but if you're presently on the hunt for a perfume that will play right along with the present transition from Winter to Spring, Amyitis, with its light burst of delicate buds, should do nicely -- plus it has just enough dirt in its veins to keep it real.

DONNA KARAN CHAOS: I thought I'd like this more than I do. The reissued Donna Karan Essence Labdanum and Essence Wenge were both wearable and attractive, and so I assumed that the reissue of Chaos, with all its hype and heavy perfume-forum panting, would follow suit.

Not so fast, tiger.

Initially, Chaos was part of this morning's "What smells like soap?" problem, and the one-two punch of the Mona di Orio Amyitis with the DK Chaos was almost just a bit too much to bear before breakfast, but while Amyitis later turns into fresh green buds, Chaos turns into . . . a spice and patchouli soap?

The Non-Blonde (my favorite resource for information on fragrances that entirely perplex me) describes the reissued Donna Karan Chaos as "elegant and poised. Yet, it's sheer enough (much more so than anything I've ever gotten from the original) and easy enough to wear on a summer day."

I think that's probably a better (and more fair) summation than anything I can come up with myself, so I'll leave it at that.

DAWN SPENCER HURWITZ MARC: Another classy men's scent. Really, what is it with perfumers lately? I'm suddenly feeling the man-love and I find it almost disturbing. Is this all a cynical plot? A trick? Am I getting invited to party with the cool kids only to be cruelly ditched when the market turns back around and women start spending once again like credit card addicts destined for an episode of Tyrah?

Oh, who cares! I'm still today's prom king, even if I'm covered in a bucket of pig's blood.

You just can't keep a good man down.

Speaking of which, Marc is said to be inspired by the bad-boy protagonist of the Pamela Clare novel, Unlawful Contact -- a man who's desperate for understanding, wrongfully imprisoned and still in love with his high-school sweetheart over twelve years later. He only takes her hostage because he needs to.

Everybody say it along with me: "Awwww!"

Scent notes for Marc are: bergamot, spices, spruce, frankincense, juniper berry, sandalwood, sage, ambergris, cedarwood, sandalwood, brown oakmoss, coffee absolute, leather, musk and sequoia. So it's one spicy, woodsy, musky and definitely masculine brew. The only drawback is that it's not particularly potent, and what kind of self-respecting, romance-novel badass has trouble with staying power?

Thumbs up for virility, thumbs down for longevity. But if you don't mind reapplying throughout the day, then Marc is an excellent go-to scent for the modern guy.

SOIVOHLE' PURPLE LOVE SMOKE: An all-natural fragrance from Liz Zorn that's a bold riot of violets, ripe purple berries and what appears to be a very slinky patchouli infused with musk and resins for that languorous wood and smoke feel -- it comes across like a cocktail of vigorous youth and base intentions.

There might even be some Immortelle tucked away inside of it (about 4 hours in, it exhibits a hint of that ham + syrup note that I associate with Immortelle), but I'll forgive it the transgression. Just this once.

Whatever the actual recipe, Purple Love Smoke is highly individual and with great longevity. Wear it if you dare, but most especially if you're daring.

CEREUS NO. 14: It's nice to see a renaissance of sorts in masculine fragrance production, though I kind of suspect the recent appearance of several exceptionally nice scents for men is due to the ridiculous over-saturation of the feminine perfume market.

I mean, seriously, how many hundreds of thousands of vanilla-florals and powdery musks can perfumers create before it finally hits them that perhaps there's an underserved market in there somewhere . . . you know, for guys?

One recent slug in favor of the guys: mainstream perfume critic Chandler Burr finally got it through his skull that perhaps it might be more productive for his readers to spend his column inches praising a worthy piece of work (Ormonde Man by Ormonde Jayne) rather than whining about obvious junk (Ed Hardy for Women), and it was gratifying to see Linda Pilkington get some recognition for the effort she puts into her male oriented scents.

I disagree completely with Burr's curt dismissal of Pilkington's latest masculine, Zizan (I guess it wasn't floral enough for his taste), but at least the New York Times readers now know that Linda Pilkington exists and that she makes at least one great men's fragrance. That's a start.

But I actually meant to write about the latest release from the fragrance house Cereus -- Cereus No. 14. Uninventive name, to be sure (it sounds like Chanel No. 5's creepy stalker), but it's a solid piece of work for the masculine consumer. I've reviewed a couple of Cereus fragrances in the past (No. 7 and No. 11 -- routinely boring and surprisingly fresh, respectively) and No. 14 is a decent enough expansion of the Cereus lineup -- not too shabby, not too plain, not too much.

It won't shiver your timbers, either, but if you've turned to cologne to do your timber shivering, then life is bleak indeed, so go see your doctor, get a prescription for Xanax and we'll all be here to welcome you with open arms when you return.

For the rest of you still hanging around, listed notes for Cereus No. 14 are: grapefruit, tarragon, clary sage, amber, cognac, violet, rosemary, wood and musk. Thankfully, ozone and marine notes seem to be thing of the past. The grapefruit, clary sage and tarragon of No. 14 are prevalent in the opening phase for that herbal garden, English Country Gentleman feel, but about ninety minutes into it, the cognac and woods elements saunter into view and the whole thing transforms into a rosemary-tinged boozefest and the party's in the wood-paneled gentlemen's club from there on out.

I kind of like it. Mostly.

I'm still not inspired to actually purchase a full bottle of any of the Cereus offerings, but I work from home and so don't have to tailor my fragrance choices to crowded work spaces or managerial edicts. Cereus No. 14 would definitely be on my radar if an office cubicle or public sector job were in my future.

SIX SCENTS NO. 5: Allegedly intended to smell like a sweaty, sexy, men's locker room, Six Scents No. 5 (again with the numbers!) is actually an attractive, contemporary spin on the traditional men's cologne with nary a whiff of perspiration for miles.

With creative direction from American fashion designer Jeremy Scott, No. 5 opens with a bright citrus and pepper combo, then stays clean and scrubbed throughout while somehow managing to avoid coming across like a barrel of soap or a tub of detergent, which is no small feat when light musks are involved.

Official listed scent notes are: bergamot, aldehydes, pepper, nutmeg, rose, benzoin, olibanum, cedarwood and musk. I'm not certain where the "sweat" is supposed to be coming from, since there's nothing particularly sweaty about any of the notes. Nutmeg, maybe? But the rose is a genuinely nice touch, adding a floral sweetness to the sparkling aldehydes, and the incense resins mix artfully with the cedar and musk in the base.

Six Scents No. 5 is definitely on the lighter side of the masculine spectrum, and all the PR chatter about "gym locker rooms and Vaseline mixed with sweat" should be ignored, since it has little to no relevance to the actual, almost pretty, smell of the fragrance itself.

COMPLETELY UNRELATED DORKITUDE:

My superhero alter-ego apparently moonlights as a physics instructor at the local community college:

I blame Marin.

A few weeks ago, I tested a couple of Liz Zorn fragrances that she offers under her SOIVOHLE' Naturals line. I was deeply impressed with both, especially as they were all-natural and yet exhibited as much depth and longevity as you'd generally find in a synthetic-based fragrance, while blowing away most other all-natural brands.

I decided I'd spring for a bottle of Tobacco & Tulle, which is a bang-up piece of work. When it arrived on my doorstep, I was happy to see that time, thought and care went into the packaging and presentation, reminding me of the attention that Mandy Aftel lavishes upon the presentation of her all-natural Aftelier brand.

There are a few independent perfumers (who shall remain nameless) that could learn some lessons from both Ms. Zorn and Ms. Aftel.

This is what I wrote earlier about Tobacco & Tulle: "A royal flush of tobacco, tuberose, ambergris, hyrax and oakmoss . . . five hours later and the all-natural Tobacco & Tulle is still going strong, radiating a golden, lightly toasted aroma that belies its humble origins."

Perfume Posse had this to say about T&T: "I adore this scent . . . It is interesting, hardcore and beautiful, everything I want my perfume to be."

Below are some photos of the packaging and presentation for Tobacco & Tulle. The bottle was quite photogenic, and remarking that Zorn presents a cohesive vision for her brand would be an understatement:

1.) Retailers Report Dismal Results and Brace for a Bumpy Future:
"Retailers marched out a series of cheerless results Tuesday for their most important season of the year, the fourth quarter, when consumers seem to have put off buying almost anything they had a choice about . . . 'Things are not pretty out there, and I think the numbers reflect that,' said Bellevue, Wash.-based retail analyst Patricia Edwards."

To sum it up: Target's fourth-quarter profit dropped 41% from last year; Macy's saw a drop in fourth-quarter profit of 59%; Fossil Watches sales dropped 13% in the last quarter of 2008 and Nordstrom reported that its fourth-quarter earnings fell 68% while also predicting that its earnings for 2009 will drop 10% to 15% in comparison to 2008.

Meanwhile, the fashion shows go on and Spring merchandise is arriving in all the department stores . . . well, except for Barneys: "As the apparel industry rushes to get its shop floors ready for springtime shoppers, tony department store Barneys New York is facing a retail nightmare: A lack of new garments." Which means that garment companies have put a freeze on sending merchandise to Barneys as they're uncertain that Barneys has the financial backing to eventually pay for the merchandise, or even keep its doors open for much longer.

In related news, cobblers and tailors are seeing an increase in business as consumers repair existing items rather than shop for new merchandise: "With the dreary economic outlook not changing anytime soon, not as many people are leaving malls carrying shopping bags. Instead they are turning to shops where cobblers and tailors are fixing shoes or altering clothes already in the closet."

So much for the latest "it" shoe hype . . .

Bucking the trend? Cosmetics and skin care: Women forsake frills but spare no expense for skin -- "'Demand for luxury cosmetics remains firm, defying the economic slump,' said Rika Matsumura, a retail analyst at Okasan Securities Company . . . (Japan's) $17 billion cosmetics industry is tempering the effects of the recession thanks to the growing number of women who have the money and inclination to buy expensive skin care products."

And there's more: "CNielsen announced the U.S. mass retail color cosmetics category grew by 3.6 percent, compared to last year's fourth quarter. 'I hear during the Great Depression, lipstick sales increased,' said Ellen Davis, a vice president at the National Retail Federation. 'I think we're seeing the same kind of activity today.' While shoppers may be unwilling to spend $300 on a new outfit, Davis said cosmetics is the one area where some women are rewarding themselves."

Look good = feel good. It's pretty simple math.

2.) Italian Fashion Industry Wants Its Bailout:
"In a senate hearing this week, the head of Sistema Moda Italia, which represents the textile and clothing industry, warned of risks for the sector and called for government help. 'The Italian clothing and textile sector risks falling to pieces under the weight of the international economic crisis,' Michele Tronconi, was quoted by Italian media as saying. 'We don't want someone to pedal for us. We know how to ride a bicycle well but at this time a push is necessary.'"

Thus proving you can never have too many hats, shoes and gloves . . . even the Italian government thinks so (thanks to Marin for the lead on the article).

Yet while the rest of Italy stumbles, Armani opens a brand new, gleaming flagship on Fifth Avenue: "'This is just amazing,' said Posh (Beckham) as she entered the grand Fifth Avenue flagship . . . The circular ramps climbing the massive flagship were reminiscent of the Guggenheim's iconic interior. At the top of the staircase nearly every major editor and buyer circulated with cocktails in hand, taking breaks from supreme people watching to nibble on Armani chocolates."

If somebody has to do Italy proud, it may as well be Armani. Video clip below of Armani Fifth Avenue store construction:

3.) Roberto Cavalli Cancels 'Just Cavalli' Milan Runway Show:
"Italian fashion designer Roberto Cavalli has cancelled a show of his youth line Just Cavalli at Milan Fashion Week, he said Tuesday, citing financial problems . . . 'The difficult situation of Ittierre (the company that owns the brand) did not guarantee that I could be as avant-garde as usual with my youth line,' he said."

Ittierre may file for bankruptcy protection soon, directly affecting the fate of other youth/diffusion brands such as Versace Sport, Versace Jeans Couture and Galliano.

Meanwhile, Versace is relaunching its lower-priced Versus line to reach the consumer that has cut back on high-luxe spending yet still wants to buy merchandise branded with the Versace name: "Wanting (Versace) to remain at this level, we thought of Versus as offering ... more man on the street prices ... to cover a different audience." Versace's chief executive officer Giancarlo di Risio and Donatella Versace were responsible for the decision to resurrect the Versus brand.

In related news: 12 year old, avant-garde Japanese men's brand Number (N)ine has closed up shop: "Here's an extra bit of info we got when we contacted Number (N)ine for confirmation: 'Yes, it is true. The collection we just showed was the final. We will produce it and finish out the year with that beautiful stuff. Then at that point all stores will close.'"

4.) Is Fashion Week a Sell Out?:
"It seems change may be coming to Fashion Week -- that is, if organizers determined to open show tickets to the public (for a price) have their way . . . As far as the cost of said imaginary ticket, prices are guestimated in the ballpark of $160 a pop with regard to top shows such as Marc Jacobs, Oscar de la Renta, and the like."

The idea has yet to garner much support with the more well-known names, but with finances lagging and the expense of putting on a full runway show becoming a make or break toll on design houses, it's not outside the realm of possibility.

Case in point: 'Recessionistas' brave fashion week -- "Putting on a show at Bryant Park is expensive. Really expensive. Designers can shell out anywhere from $200,000- $1 million-and that is twice a year . . . 'We had too much stuff, too much carpet, too much bling-bling, too much everything, and it was like having an upset stomach from eating to many good things,' said Karl Lagerfeld."

But it's Marc Jacobs that throws recessionary caution to the wind and pulls the rabbit out of the hat:

Marc Jacobs Fall 2009

5.) Oh, hey -- remember when I mentioned a few months back that Salma Hayek had divorced her husband, Francois-Henri Pinault, President of PPR (the luxury conglomerate that owns Gucci and Yves St. Laurent)? Well, I was wrong. They weren't married at the time, only engaged -- but they're married now: "The two met in Italy in 2006, announced their engagement and had a baby, Valentina Paloma, in September 2007. Last year they broke off their engagement but made up a few months later . . . Hayek's spokeswoman, Cari Ross, confirmed in an e-mail ... that the marriage had taken place in Paris on (February 14th)."

I'm a terrible gossip mongerer.

6.) London Mayor Pays to Fly in Buyers for London Fashion Week:
"The avant garde designers who exhibit in London are viewed as riskier in recessionary times as history shows shoppers tend to stick to classic pieces from long-established fashion houses such as Gucci and Prada. But there are fears for the economy if London Fashion Week is marginalised . . . The Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, has resorted to paying for buyers to fly in, spending £40,000 on airline tickets and accommodation to boost this week's shows."

Below is a clip of the Fall 2009 collection from one of those "risky" London design houses, Marios Schwab:

Christopher Kane is also a name that's on the lips of every fan of the cutting edge:

7.) Yves St. Laurent Art Auction Fetches Record Sums:
"The private collection of Yves Saint Laurent and his partner became the most expensive one ever sold at auction, bringing in more than $264 million on the first night alone . . . More than 1,200 buyers, dealers, collectors and wealthy art lovers were in their seats as Christie's staff members took bids from those abroad on 100 telephone lines. Most of the buyers were said to be American and European."

Record prices were paid for works by Matisse, Marcel Duchamp, Constantin Brancusi, James Ensor, Piet Mondrian and Giorgio de Chirico. The auction spanned several days and also included furniture, silver and Asian antiquities. There was a brief international stir as China protested the auctioning of two ancient bronze pieces it claimed were looted from the country over a century ago, but Yves St. Laurent's former partner, Pierre Bergé, stated that he legally purchased the pieces yet would willingly give them back to China "if Beijing would observe human rights and give liberty to the Tibetan people and welcome the Dalai Lama.'"

China, of course, declined the offer.

OMNIA PROFUMO AMBRA: Back before politicians were lining up to take credit for inventing the internet, there was an interview in Rolling Stone with Jim Kerr, the lead singer for Simple Minds. The Breakfast Club had just recently opened in theaters and the band's song from the soundtrack ("Don't You Forget About Me") was gearing up to be a huge hit in the United States.

The interviewer asked Mr. Kerr what he thought of the success of the song, since it hadn't been written by the band (it was, instead, written and produced by David Foster, a kind of go-to uber-producer of the 80's, especially for soundtrack work) and was a lot more "pop" than anything that had been included on the band's previous albums. I'm paraphrasing the response, but I remember Jim Kerr said something like, "If you took all of our songs and put them in a blender, it would sound like 'Don't You Forget About Me', so David Foster captured the essence of the band even though the song doesn't sound exactly like a Simple Minds record."

This is a round-about way for me to say that if you took all the ambers of the world and put them in a blender, the result would likely be something very similar to Omnia Ambra, and I would have no problem with steering an amber fragrance neophyte in the direction of Omnia Ambra since it covers all the requisite amber bases so neatly: sweet, woodsy, earthy, golden.

March at Perfume Posse writes: "This is one of the few ambers I can wear and wear happily." Official listed scent notes are: orange, bergamot, geranium, incense, lavender, patchouli, vanilla, labdanum, opoponax and amber. The geranium and lavender are nice touches, as they pull the fragrance back from the brink of being too sweet and steer it into just right.

The bottle is nice, too, and the price isn't bad -- $135.00 for 125ml. Compare that to $105.00 for a 50ml bottle of Tauer Perfumes Incense Rose, or $265.00 for 50ml of The Party in Manhattan and Omnia Ambra starts to look like a total bargain.

Speaking of sweet, just right and total somethings:

OMNIA PROFUMO GRANATO: Lucky Scent describes Grenato as "the fun-loving friend who could always convince you to cut class even though you knew better," and while the copy writers at Lucky Scent often engage in hyperbole so extreme it would make a North Korean dictator blush, there actually is a kind of devil-may-care quality to this fragrance -- a teasing fan-dance of a spiced floral that piques the interest right up until it collapses into the same sour, hawthorn mess that makes wearing Serge Lutens' Miel de Bois so unpleasant.

Thumbs down.

TAUER PERFUMES INCENSE ROSE: After finally surrendering to L'Air du Desert Marocain on the fourth try and actually purchasing a bottle, I thought it might be nice to give the Tauer Incense Rose a whirl across the dance floor.

What I discovered is that Incense Rose is a solid piece of work that straddles the line between old-school French perfumery and New World contemporary -- complex, yet without skewing formal or overdone. I'm beginning to finally "get" the devotion that a Tauer perfume inspires in some circles, and while I can't envision myself as an Andy Tauer groupie, I can appreciate the grab bag way he approaches the creation of a modern fragrance: a little bit of French, a slight dash of American, a splash of feminine, a drop of masculine, a flower here, a slice of lumber there, and so on.

The usual Andy Tauer cedar suspect is present here at the base, yet applied with admirable restraint and paired with a smooth ambergris that extends the lifespan of the scent itself. A bright iris root adds some buoyancy to the main players -- the rose and frankincense -- so that the fragrance doesn't lean too far in a masculine direction, what with the cedarwood, patchouli and labdanum also contributing to the base.

There's nothing at all Stuffy Foyer about this rose scent, and it smells more like dried petals and sweet smoke than a static arrangement in a vase. Incense Rose wears just as easily on men as well as women, and it can transition from day to evening at the drop of a decant into the handbag, book bag or glove compartment. Very spritz and go.

Now, if only they'd do something about that awful bottle . . .

Note to Mr. Tauer: L'Air du Desert Marocain is a truly purchase worthy fragrance, but the cheap and crappy bottle you sell it in is SO cheap and crappy that I had to photograph it from inventive angles to compensate for the permanently crooked atomizer and to disguise the discolored splotch on the peel and stick label. The bright ribbon wrapped around the box is a nice touch, but it would have looked nicer if (again) the peel and stick label on the cardboard box wasn't scraped and scuffed across every corner. You may insist that you're not responsible for the condition of the box and bottle once they leave your hands, but you are responsible for choosing packaging/bottling materials that too easily scratch, scrape, bend and discolor. I know you're a small perfume house, but seriously, a little pride (and a few more pennies) in the presentation couldn't hurt.

Below are some of the photos of the L'Air du Desert Marocain bottle. I took a whole lot more, but the atomizer was so askew that I had to ditch the majority of them. I removed the discolored blotch on the label with Photoshop:

When I showed the cheap, bent bottle to the BF, he said, "Really? That's what they sent? And what's that -- a stick-on label? How much did this cost you?" I mumbled something about it being one hundred dollars, and he burst out laughing. "You're kidding me, right? Tell me you're kidding!" Somehow, I don't think that's the response a perfumer should be shooting for.

The BF did agree that the fragrance itself smells great, so there's that, but he also mentioned that he would be too embarrassed by its packaging to purchase it as a gift for anyone.

M. MICALLEF AOUD GOURMET: This is exactly what aoud needed -- a spoonful of gourmand to help the medicine go down. The somewhat sharp and prickly initial phase of the complex aoud scent is both rounded and warmed by a layer of creamy, nutty frosting that downplays the negatives while still allowing the best part of the aoud (the resinous, smoky drydown) to shine.

And while M. Micallef can sometimes lean a bit too heavy on the sugar and spice end of the spectrum (Note Vanillee and Note Ambree are two examples of this), if you're the woodsy & foodie type, this particular combination of sinus-wrenching aoud and rich, buttery sweetness hits a terrific balance, with nary a wobble on the highwire -- though keep in mind that it's not a total, full-on gourmand. Aoud as the featured scent note keeps the fragrance firmly anchored in the land of incense (and is that a waft of desert rose buried in there?).

Strangely enough, Aoud Gourmet, while starting off in a vastly different space, exhibits the floral, balsamic heart of Tauer's Incense Rose, yet amped up a notch. The two part ways once again at the drydown, where Incense Rose moves into a rose-infused incense-amber while Aoud Gourmet plumbs the dark, smoky depths of aoud itself.

With so many aouds already under their belt, and especially after the release of their Vanille Aoud, I'm a little surprised to see Micallef proffer yet another flavor-infused aoud scent, but four of the six M. Micallef boutiques are located in the United Arab Emirates (two in Dubai and two in Abu Dhabi) where aoud reigns supreme, so the surprise on my part is perhaps unwarranted.

Note: Aoud Gourmet has not yet been officially released. I received this as an advance sample from Lucky Scent, and even the M. Micallef website, while it shows Aoud Gourmet listed as a scent, does not offer any information beyond the name of the fragrance and a photo of the bottle. There will likely be more information available soon.

Back in September, I wrote about a fragrance called The Party in Manhattan and noted that it was not to be found in the U.S. and next to impossible to track down any distributor or retailer willing to ship an order into this country.

I emailed a woeful message to Franco at Lucky Scent and lo and behold, five months later, I received word that they now have it available for sale in their L.A. store and on their website (if it's not posted yet on their site, it soon will be).

Here's what I wrote back in September: "The vetiver and patchouli rein in the sweetness of the amber to a good extent, the musks melt into the skin and the florals exist to bring balance to the composition rather than acting as a main focus. There's a good argument that can be made regarding the perfume's 'sweaty' party vibe, as the Party in Manhattan does not function as a distraction from the smells of everyday life, but rather, it works to enrich your own natural (skin) scent by adding a dollop of brown sugar to your body-heat and a sense of depth to your personal space."

In other words, this is not your teenaged babysitter's bottle of love potion. I probably have no business owning such a creature, but it was too sultry to refuse (cue saxophone music in 3, 2, 1 . . . ).

From Perfume Posse, the fragrance creator Paulo Borgomanero had this to say about his Party in Manhattan: "It is a beautiful chypre scent that transcends generations and comes in beautiful bespoke packaging, evocative of the 1930s. I hope it will appeal to discerning customers who appreciate how special it is."

Photos of the bottle and packaging for The Party in Manhattan below:

The price is a bit steep ($265.00 for 50ml), but when I checked into ordering a bottle from Harrods in London back in September, the exchange rate between the dollar and the British pound made it almost twice that. The dollar is much stronger against both the pound and the euro at this point in time, and apparently Lucky Scent was able to take advantage of this one positive glimmer in our economy (god knows how long it'll last).

Needless to say, a bottle of Party is now a steal compared to what I would have shelled out if I'd ordered internationally, so I saved myself several hundred dollars by sitting tight and waiting for Lucky Scent to come through. Thanks, Franco!

UPDATE:

And Lucky Scent now has it available on their site -- The Party in Manhattan

Thanks to everyone for putting up with my Road Trip distracted blogging. I apologize for not being on top of the fragrance game while I was on the road, but when you're spending so much time cooped up in an automobile with a travel companion who is, shall we say, far less dedicated to the world of spray and sniff, then manners dictate a more scaled down approach.

I did discover a few things, however: 1.) Tom Ford Amber Absolute, while an excellent fragrance in and of itself, is a bit too over the top for close quarters (Note: the same is likely true of Mr. Ford himself); 2.) Go easy on the Serge Lutens when palling around with the uninitiated; 3.) Dawn Spencer Hurwitz deserves the praise that Chandler Burr heaped on her work, at least as far as her fragrance 'Marc' is concerned; 4.) Penhaligon's Elixir pairs so well with a snow-covered mountainous landscape that you'll think you're just breathing in the surrounding air; and 5.) Le Labo Labdanum 18 is pretty much perfect for any and all occasions, even the aforementioned close quarters

I'm posting a few more photos from the drive home. They're of the Montana-Wyoming corridor of our return trip, because once we hit Kansas (and especially West Texas), all that big-sky beauty pretty much evaporated.

Don't get me wrong, Kansas possesses its own special charm with its miles of rolling farmland and ancient, storm-weathered structures, but after the drama of mountains and massive cloud formations, it kind of lacked the necessary scenic punch to grab my attention (the photo that pops-up from the clickable "scenic punch" was snapped in Kansas -- 'nuff said).

And we only got stopped for speeding once! Considering how much time we spent on the road (and the lead to flesh+bone ratio of the BF's foot), that's pretty darn good.

Below is a photo I snapped from out the passenger window of the car as we sat by the side of the road, waiting for the Wyoming State Trooper to finishing writing up the ticket:

I steadfastly prayed he wouldn't think my camera was a weapon and so come back charging at the car with his gun drawn and blazing.

Driving away from Montana was just as striking as driving into and around Montana. Some of the most intensely beautiful scenery I've ever had the pleasure of clapping my eyes on.

These photos from the passenger seat don't really do it justice, but at least I can give you some brief insight into why I was "ooooh"ing and "aaaaah"ing until we hit the Wyoming border . . . and then, of course, it was a whole 'nother kind of beauty throughout Wyoming.

I mean, why have I never spent any time in these states before? Crazy.

Fragrance for the trip: Dawn Spencer Hurwitz Marc -- a game of synchronicity, since today I received an email from Marin telling me that she'd visited the Hurwitz boutique in Boulder and had picked me up some samples.

I read her email on my iPhone, sniffing at the Marc on my wrist as we were driving past the Wyoming border. Marc is a terrific piece of work, but I'll have to write about it later. Right now I have to put the computer to bed, since we're getting up early tomorrow and heading out for the second leg of the trip.

So we went to Livingston (Montana) today to look at some property. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything so beautiful:

Andrew Wyeth, eat your heart out.

Just a little window shopping before breakfast.

What? This old view?

And then we visited downtown Bozeman:

Is it just me, or are all the cars, like, really shiny for the middle of winter?

Where we ducked into the Powder Horn shop:

I see dead people . . . I mean, uhm . . .

Run while you still can!"

So we woke up this morning and it was 20 degrees and cold, so of course, what do we do but bundle ourselves up for a visit to Glacier National Park!

We're nothing but the smart crowd here.

Don't tease me like that!

No one's ever taken a photo of driftwood before. You're welcome.

The S-Curve to nowhere. I'm sure it's part of the new stimulus package.

"Come sit down beside me," said the frozen spider to the ice encrusted fly.

I half-expected Jack Nicholson to come charging out, axe in hand.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE PERFUME:

Okay, okay -- I sprayed myself with German fragrance house Parfums d'Imperfiction Eleven Minutes before we left (no, not eleven minutes before we left -- the name of the scent is 'Eleven Minutes'), and while the fragrance itself has a long and involved backstory involving princes, prostitutes and painters, the perfume itself is rather underwhelming.

It's a nice enough piece of work, but extremely subtle (understatement of the year). I sprayed myself with nearly the entire 1.5ml sample (something I rarely have to do), and while it opened with a bright and pleasant lemongrass-citrus, it toned way down way fast, so much so that when I piled into the car not twenty minutes later, no one else could even tell I was wearing a fragrance -- which could be either good or bad, depending on your perspective.

Scent notes are listed as: May chang, Neroli, Bergamot, Tuberose, Mimosa, Immortelle, Leather, Benzoin and Honey. It sounds like it could be really nice (even despite the inclusion of the dreaded Immortelle) but I can't really tell you what wearing it was like beyond a vague impression of citrusy leather, as it simply vanished on my skin.

I don't usually swallow fragrances whole like that -- in fact, I often have the opposite experience, where scents are loud on my skin, so I can say with certainty that Eleven Minutes won't even make it near my wish list. If I'm going to blow good cash on a niche scent, it's going to be one that I can smell without having to dump half the bottle over my head.

To be fair, it's not that it doesn't have any effect at all, it just blended in too perfectly with the scent of my own skin to make any impact. I mean, I'm sitting here nearly ten hours later and I can catch a faint whiff of immortelle and honey, but that's about all it was throughout the entire day -- faint.

So if you like fragrances that wear warm and darkly sweet and very (very!) close to your own skin, Eleven Minutes might be just the ticket; however, if you're looking for something with a bit more vim and vigor, you might want to look elsewhere (though perhaps it might have an entirely different effect when worn by women?).

1.) If Barney's Went Up For Sale, Would Anyone Buy It?:
"Barneys New York's owner, Dubai's Istithmar World PJSC, may sell the luxury retailer for less than half what it paid two years ago as the state-owned fund seeks to raise cash to meet debt payments . . . (but) Even in that price range, a surge in retail bankruptcies, falling luxury sales and frozen credit markets are muting interest."

It's going to be tough to sell a high-end retail chain in this economic climate. Barney's has already been through a bankruptcy once, and I wouldn't be surprised to see them go entirely out of business if a suitable buyer can't be found.

In related, Are They Headed For Bankruptcy news, Abercrombie Profit Sinks 68% After Tough Holiday Season: "Abercrombie, which sells upscale casual clothing, has been particularly hard hit as customers trade down to cheaper competitors and the company refuses to offer discounts on its merchandise."

Below is a stealth video clip of the Abercrombie & Fitch flagship store on 5th Avenue:

In related related news, the U.S. denim market is cooling: "Sales of jeans in the US have been driven by the popularity of premium denim in the last few years, including the extension of premium denim brands onto kids' racks, but sales are expected to slide over the next few years a recent report says."

In triple related news, Louis Vuitton is reporting full-year growth in 2008 of 4.2%, but would not provide 4th quarter numbers, which means, of course, that 4th quarter numbers were bad and Louis Vuitton is only reporting 4.2% growth in 2008 because they sold enough merchandise at the beginning of last year to compensate for 4th quarter losses. Bernard Arnault, head of LVMH (owner of Louis Vuitton), says that January 2009 sales are up from January of 2008, but then undercuts his statement by, again, declining to provide details: "'In January, we have seen growth, but I can't give details,' Arnault said."

Remember, it's all in the details, and if Arnault won't provide them, then it's likely the details don't support his assertions of growth. For example: LVMH slashes spending for the year after income falls: "French luxury retail giant LVMH has slashed its budget for new stores and cut capital expenditure by up to 15 per cent this year to help it steer through the global slowdown." LVMH watch and jewelry division was hit particularly hard.

And then there's this: Sales growth slows at LVMH -- "The world's biggest luxury goods group revealed that organic sales growth, which excludes currency effects, fell from 12 per cent in the first half of 2008, compared with the same period in 2007, to zero in the final three months of the year."

Oh, yeah, they're doin' great.

2.) NY Fashion Week -- Let Them Eat Hope:
"'I needed some hope, some glimmer of a rebounded economy, and I ended up with glamorous, over-the-top and more special,' Carmen Marc Valvo says . . . Nanette Lepore also struggled with balancing the reality of the moment with thinking ahead. The future won out. Just days ago, she was second-guessing her decision to use bright colors for the normally more subdued autumn collection, but she's justified her choices by riding the wave of optimism that seemed to come in with the Obama administration."

Uhm . . . I kind of hate to break it to these people, but nervous consumers don't shell out dwindling cash reserves for spendy designer duds just because there's a new sheriff in town. The article quoted above makes it sound almost like the entire fashion industry is whistling in the dark at this point: "If we just make something really really really REALLY special, then it'll fly off the shelves! Does anybody know what that really really really REALLY special thing might be? Anyone? Hello?"

But bright times are ahead: "Just when news of the economy couldn't get any bleaker or the February skies any greyer, fashion is awash with a colour clash more vivid than we've dared sport in years. The message is clear: we all need cheering up a bit - so if you wear anything this spring, make sure it's startling pink, fiery orange, or preferably both at the same time."

3.) Karl Lagerfeld Tells the Internet to Drop Dead:
"Karl Lagerfeld met EU competition commissioner Neelie Kroes on Wednesday to try and persuade internal market regulators to keep current restrictions on online retailers for luxury goods. . . . Mr. Lagerfeld ... said that the Internet does not convey 'the unique feel and sophistication of luxury materials, refined tailoring and extraordinary attention to detail found in luxury fashion.' He added that shopping for high fashion required a 'multi-sensory environment' . . . Analysts estimate that online luxury revenues account for below 5% of total global sales."

Below is a video clip of the Lagerfeld-designed Chanel Pre-Fall 2009 collection that is most definitely NOT sold online:

4.) Remember the Snooty Met? Not So Snooty Anymore:
Remember when Oscar de la Renta chastised the Met for using European designers for their costumes and they told him to pretty much f**k off? Well, they're the ones sobbing into the chablis today: "The lineup for the Metropolitan Opera's 2009-10 season will include eight new productions -- but lack a few previously discussed revivals that were trimmed in the fallout of the economic downturn . . . 'We are still making cuts to make ends meet for next season,' Gelb said. He also said the org is in discussions with various stage unions about new agreements."

I'll bet Oscar's having the last laugh now. Good for him.

5.) Russia Will Not Save You:
"It was only a couple of years ago when analysts considered Russia to be the world's fourth-largest spender on luxury goods, behind the United States, Japan, and China . . . But with today's global economic downturn and decline in oil prices, the most affluent Russians are tightening their grip on their wallets . . . Designer brands like Stella McCartney, Alexander McQueen, and Lanvin have recently announced that they are closing their stores in Moscow."

Designer brands like Stella McCartney, Alexander McQueen and Lanvin only just opened boutiques, like, last year. No wonder the luxury industry is collapsing -- they rushed in where even angels feared to tread. Oh, wait -- does that mean I'm saying that Bernard Arnault is a fool? Wait a minute . . . thinking . . . thinking . . . YES!!!

The luxury industry mogul who assumed the global gravy train would never end is no less stupid than the mortgage industry CEO who believed housing prices would appreciate forever.

"What I'm going to do is go on doing the same things as long as I possibly can."

6.) Kanye West's Image Consultant Will Shoot You Dead:
"Jasper got so mad about anonymous internet commenters calling him and his crew "gay" because of their colorful photos from Fashion Week that he struck back . . . People were saying that we dress "gay" and that we're "clowns" among other things. And for the record, aint NONE OF US "gay"or a "clown"."

Because there's nothing more big-balls straight than posing for fashion week photos with Karl Lagerfeld. Honey, please . . . *rolls eyes*

7) Estee Lauder Feels the Pain:
"Estee Lauder posted a lower quarterly profit on Thursday as it faced one of the worst holiday seasons in nearly 40 years and plans to slash about 2,000 jobs over two years. The job cuts are part of the cosmetics and perfume company's four-year restructuring plan to cut costs and boost overseas sales."

Meanwhile, L'oreal loses 4% of its business when its major Russian retailer collapses. Ouch!

CANALI STYLE: I don't usually care for watery scents, but the end result in Canali Style is like the smell of a Wall Street locker room without the sweat and stench: there's an herbal aftershave quality to it that plays against a backdrop of showers, sinks, leather shoes and wool business suits.

Apparently, there's some bergamot and grapefruit that's supposed to herald the opening of the play, but I only get the faintest whiffs of citrus when it first comes out of the bottle, then it's pretty much a straight woods (teak, cedar and thuya) and spice (nutmeg, coriander and pink pepper) fragrance with that unidentifiable water note running through it.

Note: the citrus pokes its head in and out of the door as the fragrance develops.

GQ Magazine UK writes that it's "sophisticated yet unassuming" and that would probably be about the best marketing speak you could use to sum up the likes of Canali Style. There's nothing groundbreaking or cutting edge about this offering from the Italian clothier; instead, it's masculine in a buttoned-down traditionalist fashion while still surprisingly easy to wear.

I like it more than dislike it, though the drydown is fairly nondescript. I'd never purchase it for myself, but I wouldn't begrudge anyone listing it as one of their faves.

MONTALE BOIS VANILLE: I'm like a kicked dog that keeps coming back in hopes of love when it comes to Montale -- only to get kicked again.

Tara had recommended the Montale Chypre Vanille (which The Non-Blonde also likes) and I got confused and picked up a sample of the Bois Vanille, instead, so I seem to be sh*t out of luck.

Bois Vanille is kind of a mess right out of the bottle, with so much going on that it overpowers even itself. It calms down a few hours later into an attractive enough semi-sweet vanilla with a woodsy-patchouli undertow, but by then I've spent a good portion of its lifespan wishing I'd worn something else.

The Scented Life thinks Bois Vanille is the cat's meow, but I just can't bring myself to join in on that mewling chorus.

WINTER WONDERLAND!:

The BF gets some first-hand experience with a Montana winter. Yeah, I don't know why he didn't bring along a pair of gloves, either. I warned him that it would be cold!

He's not amused that I'm taking photos instead of helping.

That's enough white powder to fuel Lindsay Lohan for a week.

ADORABLE FUTURE ENTREE:

So this is what they mean when they say, "You look good enough to eat!"

I think they know I have dinner on my mind.

Love it up now, beasties, cuz I'm researching recipes!

***Note to any vegetarians in the crowd: I'm kidding (sort of), but don't take offense. I snapped the photos because I thought the scene was touching and beautiful.

I'm way out of my league when it comes to the interpretation of wildlife relationships, but this struck me as a mother and fawn. When I first stepped out the door to get a clear shot, the mother stopped and stared at me . . . and stared . . . and stared. I must have eventually passed the sniff test, because she let down her guard after a while and returned her attention to the fawn.

So today was a bit of a getting to know you day for us and the Kalispell area.

We spent a lot of time in the car (unfortunately, because the windows were dirty [anything that even approaches the road is dirty in the winter here] so I couldn't aim the lens at the glass and snap any decent photos), but the snow has been falling in a light powdery drift all day, which made for a kind of mesmerizing drive, especially when I'm the one sitting in the back seat, zoning out on the scenery.

Speaking of scenery:

"Bambi, it's cold outside!"

"I call zis: 'View From Ze Back Patio Porch'! Eet has a nice ring, oui?"

And, of course, after driving around for hours, the car was covered in a thick coat of dirt, grime and slush, so it was back to the car wash. But wait! What's this? A huge plastic blue cow? WE MUST STOP HERE!!!

The sentinel that stands guard over the Blue Cow Car Wash in Kalispell.

No, really -- I'm serious!

And so we did. I promptly spilled from the car to take photos while the BF patiently drove the car through the wash. This time, the twenty five layers of dirt came entirely clean and our mechanical beast emerged glistening. I was there to greet them both at the finish:

If I know the BF, he's thinking, "Are those cloths scratching the finish?"

I know it seems like I'm now the official chronicler of car washes, but it's about the only time the vehicle rolls to a halt and I can escape. That and gas stations. I'll soon have a huge collection of gas station photos, just you wait.

UPDATE:

See? I told you!

"Is it art or is it life? I can't tell the difference any longer."

AND ALONG COMES SERGE LUTENS:

Since yesterday was a Penhaligon's day, I figured I should get some Serge Lutens face time while I'm on the road, as well. Chergui seemed like a good choice (and how!).

Chergui is beautifully warm, dusty and sweet in a raw, natural way. I think The Non-Blonde sums it up best when she writes: "Chergui is an equal opportunity beauty. Not an androgynous unisex, but a scent that works beautifully on both male and female, creating an intoxicating atmosphere around its wearer without resorting to a gender cliché."

Penhaligon's Elixir and Chergui have this in common, the ability to function just as easily for both men and women without raising an eyebrow or baffling bystanders. Its listed scent notes are honey, musk, incense, tobacco leaf, hay, sugar, amber, iris, rose and sandalwood -- it's like the Goldilocks of fragrances, where every element is balanced just right, with the hay element perhaps the most surprising (and yet the most effective) aspect of the fragrance, preventing Chergui from dropping the honey-flower bomb and then skedaddling for cover.

If you're looking for an earthy, sweet scent with a swirl of Middle Eastern exoticism (rose, sandalwood, incense) across a stretch of American farmland (hay and tobacco leaf), then Chergui is going to be your new best friend.

I love the drydown -- a brilliantly warm, snuggly and honied slab of earthen goodness. If this is the smell of a southeast wind in Morocco, then I'm long overdue for a trip to the North African desert.

I knew the last leg of our trip would include time in a more casual and back to nature environment than what I get in Dallas on a daily basis, so I brought a test sample of Penhaligon's Elixir along for the ride, thinking it might be a good fit for the panorama of mountains, forests and lakes.

I was so right, it's almost scary.

After I sprayed some Elixir on this morning, I stepped outside and the opening bite of eucalyptus and mace merged seamlessly with the smell of cold, snowy pines in the air. The underlying mix of spices, incense/wood resins and deep florals added a welcome sense of warmth, and even a bit of exoticism, without going overboard about it.

I think what I appreciate most about Elixir is its sense of balance -- the potentially uber femme trio of rose, jasmine and vanilla are noticeable, yet they don't dominate the fragrance, leaving room for the for dryer/dustier notes of cinnamon, frankincense and cedar to assert themselves while buffing and smoothing any overbold and/or jagged edges into submission with a deft bundling of sandalwood, rosewood, guaic wood and tonka.

I suppose you could consider Elixir a masculine fragrance for all its spice and lumber, but it's so warm and beautifully balanced, with that quiet nudge of rose and jasmine at the center (not to mention the appealing dollop of vanilla in the base), that any female who makes a habit of raiding her husband's/boyfriend's/father's/brother's cologne collection could easily pass it off.

Kevin at Now Smell This says Elixir comes across like a man sweating in a steam room, but I've been that steamy, sweaty guy and I'm here to tell you that, left to my own devices, I only wish I could smell one-tenth this appealing.

WELCOME TO BIGFORK:

We took the car into Bigfork, Montana to clean off the twenty-five layers of grime and slush from the last leg of the trip. We succeeded in removing about eighteen.

Below are a few photos, though I'm not sure why I felt compelled to take the camera along on a car wash errand. Oh, right -- it's because I'm turning into an obsessive photo-taking nerd:

Putting the baby in the bath.

They have ways of making you talk.

Recharging the ray-gun.

Alternate title: "On the Road Again: The Last Fifteen Hours of My Life"

It got a little hairy a few times when the snow was piling down out of the sky (Salt Lake City morning traffic was especially brutal, with exceptionally heavy snow, low visibility, lots and lots of commuters and the sun not yet up), but we ended the journey in blue skies, and all's well that ends well, right?

Or so I tell myself.

Some photos of mother nature's many changing moods below. We never stop to take photos (only for gas!), so I resort to shutterbugging it through the windshield -- you know how hard it is to snap a decent photo at 90mph? I now do.

Once we left Salt Lake City behind, the bad weather gave us a bit of a breather.

I find highway bridges aesthetically appealing. I have no explanation as to why.

"Uh . . . are we there yet?"

I could have snapped this same photo about a thousand separate times.

So. F***ing. Cold.

Once we hit Montana, it was breathtaking landscapes the whole way.

See what I mean?

"Dear God, please let that be a Starbucks off in the horizon!"

The trip took us from Las Vegas to rural Montana in one straight shot -- once the BF gets behind the wheel, aint nothin' and no one gettin' in his way!

Tom Ford Amber Absolute played angel on my shoulder. The roller-ball applicator made for easy touch-ups before stumbling blearily out of the car at gas station breaks to fetch pretzels and water.

Too bad there isn't some kind of Amber Absolute mouth gargle. I'm sure I could have used some . . .

Alternate title: "Everything Must Go: Part 4"

So I'm in Vegas with the Louise, which means shopping and eating -- more shopping than eating, but the eating is stellar and doesn't take second place by any means (Okada and Daniel Boulud on Thursday and Friday, respectively). Though how Louise can eat and still look like this is beyond my comprehension:

"Don't hate me because I have the metabolism of a hummingbird!"

The dress she's wearing is the black version of the houndstooth Milly sheath that Jill Biden wore on Inauguration Day. The Milly sheath was a 50% off score at Nordstrom, and the pumps are YSL Trooper Platform Pumps that were snagged for 60% off at Neiman Marcus. It's almost mind-boggling the high quality of merchandise now being dumped into clearance bins, but thank god Louise is there to rescue it.

She's utterly selfless that way.

Speaking of selfless, trotting out for a shopping expedition in Vegas was an eye-opening experience, sadly illustrating the present state of the economy. First of all, the overall Vegas attendance was noticeably diminished from past experiences. We hit the Caesar's Forum and The Shoppes at the Palazzo, both of which used to be an exercise in gritting your teeth and elbowing your way through nearly solid masses of humanity, especially on a weekend, but on both Friday and Saturday we strolled easily through the shopping malls with nary a push or a shove.

It was kind of scary.

One thing I noticed was that the higher-end luxury boutiques like Chanel, Fendi, Dior, Gucci and Chloe had seemingly banded together and made the decision to ditch any slow to non-selling merchandise rather than show reduced prices on their shelves and racks -- a kind of "Our glittery baubles are so desirable that we don't have to put anything on sale, see?" bravado, even though very few people were milling about in their stores and the sales clerks looked as if they were about to pass out from the sheer tedium of doing nothing but dusting the glass shelves all day.

Louise drags the hubby through Chloe. They were the only customers in the place.

The mid-tier shops, however:

Everything Must Go! at The Shoppes at the Palazzo.

We ran into drastic price cuts at Max Mara, Catherine Malandrino, Coach, Jimmy Choo, Anya Hindmarch and various mixed-brand boutiques. Louise snagged a half-price black Kooba clutch in a huge Caesar's Forum store full of signs blaring "Clearance!" and "50% off!" The shop's owner rushed around to every customer who entered to announce that they were closing the store in nine days and needed to sell everything. All right, then.

But enough about the crashing economy, let's talk Guerlain!

I'd never visited an actual free-standing Guerlain boutique, so when I saw one in The Shoppes at the Palazzo, I couldn't resist. I pulled Louise in with me to see if she might like any of their L'Art et la Matière collection.

Behold, the gleaming glory of Guerlain!

She sniffed at Bois d'Armenie ("Nice, but boring"), Cuir Beluga ("No, not my style") and Iris Ganache ("Pretty, but . . . ") before I surrendered to her abiding love for Chanel and stopped trying to convince her that Guerlain is a possibility. We'd stopped at a Chanel boutique the day before and she fell in love with Beige from their Les Exclusifs series (the Cuir de Russie was the one for me), and once a girl falls for Chanel, well . . .

Before we exited the Guerlain boutique, I let the sales assistant spray some Cuir Beluga on my arm so that I could test it long-term. About an hour later, as we were walking through the Venetian casino area, I was suddenly enveloped in an extremely unpleasant vanilla odor that was skewing horribly horribly wrong, and then I remembered: "Crap! Cuir Beluga has the dreaded Immortelle in it!" I sprinted for a restroom and scrubbed the foul odor off before we sat down for lunch.

But maybe it would be good to end on a nicer note, like a few photos of the Christian Louboutin store in the Palazzo. No markdowns at Louboutin, and lots of customers coming in through the door. Not sure they were selling anything, but plenty of fashion slaves were still willing to try on every spike-heeled beauty within spitting distance:

"Yes, we're as beautiful on the outside as we are on the inside."

I can't be certain, but I think it's a shrine to the candy colored shoe god.

Unfortunately, Louise can't get a Louboutin on her foot to save her life -- the fit is way too narrow. Sometimes the world is unfair.

Funny anecdote: I turned to the Louboutin sales assistant who was helping us and asked, "So, do these shoes really fit anyone, or do women just cram their feet into them and suffer the consequences in order to wear something so beautiful?" She smiled a secret, knowing little smile: "They just cram their feet into them and suffer," she said.

I believe it.

***Note: I want to state for the record (and so that the extremely pleasant and helpful SA doesn't get flogged by management) that the response of the sales assistant to my half-jesting question was VERY tongue-in-cheek. The assistant did acknowledge, however, that the Louboutin line in general is cut on the narrow side, and that Louise's experience of not finding a single Louboutin shoe to fit was not a singular one.

UPDATE:

I almost forgot! We ducked into a store called Eltons -- a men's store that sells designer clothing that borders on the tragically L.A. Rocker idea of hip, though a decent enough portion of it was high-end and wearably trendy.

They were having a sale, Louise's husband (Joe) needed shirts and I needed some jeans to replace the pair I'd torn when climbing into a taxi yesterday afternoon (I hate it when that happens!), so after a bit of searching, I found two pair of jeans that fit (not always an easy venture) and plunked them down by the cash register. They weren't marked as on sale, but I figured I'd just suck it up and buy them anyway. The incredibly bored sales guy behind the cash register rang them up and gave me my total, which was the price of one pair, not two.

"I don't know if those were on sale or not, but we just need to move all this stuff," he explained and nodded his head in the direction of pretty much the entire store still stuffed with glitzy Fall 2008 merchandise forlornly crowding all the racks and shelves.

Score! I mean, my god, that's a bad sign when sales clerks are willing to seriously discount merchandise that might not even be on sale, and the customer hasn't even asked, but, I mean . . . score!

Hey, I just ran across a headline story about the colossal failure that's Victory Park, my Dallas backyard: Dallas' Victory Park Struggles to Deliver a Win.

I was wondering how long it was going to take for local journalists to suck up their courage, grow some balls and write negatively about the Perot family's taxpayer funded debacle, because that's what Victory Park is -- a huge, screeching mess of bad planning, financial arrogance and the fine art of slinging bullshit as if it were an Olympic sport.

"Even before the economy went south, the district often turned into a ghost town when the arena was dark. Ritzy retailers have fled, while other businesses are struggling to hang on . . . Perot's project doesn't seem like a sure thing anymore. It didn't help that Hillwood bungled the debut, opening with too few stores, and all of them pricey. Or that Victory Park is a destination location that is difficult to find and has innate design flaws that seem to steer foot traffic away from its retailers rather than toward them. And then there's the economy, which continues to sour and decimate high-end retail."

Victory Park on New Year's Eve -- one of the few times anyone visits the place.

When we were considering moving to the area about eighteen months ago, we thought it might be fascinating to watch a grand-scale urban development project bloom right before our eyes, so we leased a condo high up in one of the W Dallas residence towers with a primo view of the area and the construction projects in seeming full gear.

We soon found ourselves with ringside seats to the credit cruch as we watched the planned Mandarin Oriental Hotel project grind to a halt, the ambitious tower capped at its foundation and turned into a parking garage. The W Hotel and the Mandarin Oriental were obviously the core pillars for the success of the entire project, and while the W Hotel was completed and operating, the cancellation of the Mandarin Oriental was a fatal blow to the development.

Empty storefronts with "Coming Soon!" signs stayed empty, plans for public parks and museums were shelved, big partners started pulling out and the few existing retail shops and restaurants that had been lured into the development with visions of a vibrant social scene and bustling hotel traffic are struggling to stay afloat.

Retailer LFT bites the dust at Victory Park.

The W Hotel, like the rest of Victory Park, is now close to deserted on most days -- a stark contrast to the initial opening hoopla -- and weekends draw tepid bookings while other hotels in the area fill up to the brim. The fantastic Craft restaurant located in the W gets rave reviews for its food, service and atmosphere (the BF and I consider it one of the top restaurants in Dallas), but is so inconveniently located in relation to the rest of the Dallas social scene that it can't quite catch on -- not to mention that its sleek New York sophistication is a bit of a mismatch for the hip-hop and wanna-get-laid crowd that's the W Hotel's stock in trade.

Rumor has it that celebrity chef and Craft owner Tom Colicchio is furious with Perot's "promises and lies" Hillwood team, and is considering yanking his restaurant and staff out of the W and Victory Park rather than continue to play his violin on a sinking ship. If he does escape from Victory Park, he'll be following the examples of glitzy, Vegas-based N9NE Group's Nove Italiano, a massive, upscale, Italian fine-dining establishment, and Noka Chocolate, a pricy Dallas chocolatier. Both packed up and fled the development after two years of little to no customers and tanking revenue.

But not to worry -- it's not like the Perots are frittering any of their own money on the deal: "Victory Park is propped up by tax dollars and incentives, even though other developers in surrounding areas have managed to construct their towering condos and office high-rises without public dollars. Of course, Ross Perot Jr. and his father, the billionaire two-time presidential candidate, have a knack for making millions from government contracts."

Of course. Why sweat it when you have nothing to lose but OPM?

UPDATE (02/08/09):

I just got wind of the news that, as of last Wednesday, the N9NE Group has now fully bailed on the Dallas Victory Park project, shutting down the huge N9NE Steakhouse that was supposed to be one of the premiere culinary attractions of the Victory Park development.

When N9NE first opened, it was a serious hot spot with thumping music and a crowd of glamorous young Dallasites thronging the bar, packing the tables and tossing money around like confetti, but the numbers dropped off a cliff as the cracks in the economy began to show. Nove Italiano was shuttered first in an attempt to save N9NE, but now the plug has been pulled on N9NE, as well.

Brick by brick, this high profile urban development project continues to dismantle.

UPDATE (03/05/09):

Quicksilver and dallas-based Paciugo gelato are the latest to beat a hasty retreat from Victory Park.

Meanwhile, Tom Colichio insists that Craft is staying put . . . for now: "I don't know what the hell we have to do to drive business down there. I know the whole development is pretty much a bust. But why aren't people driving there and going to dinner?"

The one positive result of Colichio's new deal with Hillwood and the W Hotel is that, now that the W Hotel has a direct financial stake in the success of the restaurant, the place is a lot busier.

A frequent complaint from the Craft management before the new deal was inked was that the W Hotel staff all but ignored the fact that Craft was in the building and sent their guests everywhere else in the city, instead. Well, not anymore. The last few evenings I dropped by, the restaurant was hoppin' with business, a good portion of it sent from the hotel.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE PERFUME:

Oh, right -- perfume!

Alternate title: "On the Road"

There will be intermittent postings for a bit while I'm on a road trip with the BF. I brought along a USB Wireless connector so that I could be connected to the Internet while we drove, but the gadget doesn't seem to want to play nicely (or at all!) with my laptop, so I'm limited to web connecting when I can sit down and set up in a hotel room or friend's house, etc.

Below is a photo that anyone who's ever been on a road trip will recognize as the near universal symbol for "Are we there yet?":

"No, really . . . are we THERE YET?"

While West Texas is not the most fascinating landscape to travel across, the highways are long and straight, and the speed limits range from 70 to 80mph, which is fantastic when you're trying to get somewhere fast.

El Paso came, and El Paso went.

We stopped for the night in Scottsdale (from Dallas to Scottsdale -- it was an excruciatingly long drive) at The Mondrian hotel, and let me just tell you -- What. A. Dump! They charge an arm and a leg and think they're really hip, but the place was cheap, dirty and run-down. We just laughed about how crappy our room was, especially for the ridiculous room rate we were paying. Live and learn.

To add insult to injury, they'd rented out their lobby for a Lifetime Channel movie production, so their bar was closed for the night we were there. The dorktastic front desk guy made certain to let us know that though the bar was closed, we could make our own drinks from the mini-bar in our room. Really? Gee, thanks. That'll go great with your non-existent room service.

I have photographic evidence. I'm saving them for a more thorough blog-screed later on, but below is the hallway that led to hell . . . or, rather, to our room for the night, but that was kind of the same thing in this case:

Abandon hope all ye who enter!

We skedaddled first thing in the morning (like bats out of), and headed to Las Vegas where we have some business meetings before we head off for more driving and viewing of the American landscape through the windows of an SUV. Speaking of which, the new suspension bridge they're building at the Hoover Dam location is a technological marvel:

Someone's package is obviously getting stimulated.

The photo was snapped from out the car window while we were driving past. Story of my life.

Le Labo Labdanum 18 has been a trusty travel companion so far -- easy to enjoy and adaptable to any situation.

CARTIER LE BAISER DU DRAGON: Inhaling Le Baiser du Dragon (or Kiss of the Dragon) is like walking into an Hermes boutique right after a tornado demolishes the place -- the brain registers telltale signs of expensive and exclusive materials but can't get past the sheer and overwhelming mess that's piled on top of it all.

Its intentions may be good (a woodsy oriental? sign me up!), but the focus is muddled by too many potent spices in the broth and too many cooks shoving for elbow space in the kitchen -- gardenia, neroli, iris, rose, musk, almond/amaretto, cedar, vetiver, patchouli, benzoin, amber . . . help!

Not to mention that I keep getting whiffs of candle wax at odd moments. Yeah, that's what I've always wanted to smell like -- an aisle at Pier 1 Imports.

The one redeeming quality of Le Baiser du Dragon is that, for all the nuclear bombs it's got ticking in its suitcase, it wears rather softly. Thank heaven for minor miracles. More (and varying) opinions below:

For the Love of Perfume: "From amaretto to neroli, cedar to amber and many other interesting scents in between, Le Baiser boasts a powerful, luxurious fragrance reminding me of golden silk. When I want to feel all woman, this is the scent I choose."

Now Smell This: "When I first encountered Le Baiser du Dragon, I fell madly in love with it and bought first the Eau de Parfum and then the Parfum. Now it feels to me like an itchy fur coat on an August day . . . Le Baiser du Dragon taught me to avoid fragrances that overwhelm rather than enhance who I am."

Alona at BaseNotes: "In theory, I should like this. In practice, I don't . . . there was just too much patchouli for me to truly appreciate the other notes."

Visit the following link for photos of a release party for Le Baiser du Dragon back in 2003. Fashions, economic issues and social attitudes have changed so much in less than six years that it's almost like looking through the lens of a time warp machine: Cartier Party in celebration of 'Le Baiser du Dragon' honoring New Yorkers for Children.

One question: Who the hell is Muffie Potter Aston, and what's that on top of her head? It's, like, the socialite version of a mullet.

***Note: the Cartier LBDD sample tested was the parfum (extrait) version.

Update (03/17/09): My favorite mirror twin weighs in, and of course she loves it! It must be noted, however, that The Non-Blonde agrees that LBDD is a bit of a muddle in the middle, but she says the muddle "goes away quickly, especially when I layer the EDP with the extrait de parfum, which I always do. The parfum is a golden perfection as far as I'm concerned, dark and velvety. It also amplifies the patchouli drydown."

PARFUM D'EMPIRE AMBRE RUSSE: If you've always dreamed of one day smelling like a cup of strong black tea, with milk and a generous helping of honey, then this Bud's for you.

The sweet amber and dry woods finish is full and genuinely nice (it blows away the surprisingly weak drydown for Le Baiser du Dragon -- it's the cold, thin vetiver that does du Dragon in at the end), but the several hours of black tea that precede the homestretch are not my . . . uh . . . oh, I can't. Really, I just can't.

UPDATE (02/15/09): Testing out Ambre Russe once more, just in case the black tea thing was a fluke. It wasn't. The first several hours are still strong black tea (on me), but I do very much enjoy the second, lushly ambered half of the trip.

Satellite Padparadscha is pretty close to the kind of spiced-up triple toe-loop I'd hoped Molton Brown Black Pepper was set to accomplish when I tested it back in December, yet, sadly, Molton Brown whiffed the pepper-spice routine big time.

Padparadscha, on the other hand, fairly leaps out of the bottle in a nose-tickling fanfare of ground pepper and juniper berries before mellowing gracefully into a smooth woodsy-musk that later curls up on the sofa with a good book and a cozy amber blanket.

The amber, in this instance, is not the super-saturated type I've come to expect out of most fragrances with the word "amber" in the note list, and I think Robin at Now Smell This sums it up nicely when she writes, "The amber adds warmth without any sweetness. It is slightly earthy in the early stages; later, it is smoother, and sandalwood and musk are the predominant notes."

Robin also notes that Padparadscha was $65.00 for 100ml back in 2006. It now sells for $80.00. I'm just going to take this opportunity to state that deliberate inflation as a monetary policy sucks. Okay then.

Padparadscha, despite its warm spicy nature, is not a big bold scent for turning heads and filling rooms; instead, it shadows the skin like your best imaginary friend, all close and conspiratorial. It won't knock your socks off by any means, but the lightly (well, barely is more like it) sugared sandalwood/musk base spins it into decidedly unisex trending to masculine territory, with soft, warm tones that make it a contender for Non-Intrusive Office Wear Fragrance of the Year.

FYI: a padparadscha is "a pinkish-orange to orangy-pink colored" sapphire that's extremely rare and mined out of Sri-Lanka, Vietnam and Africa: "The ideal color of a padparadscha has been described by some as the marriage between a Sri Lankan lotus flower and a sunset" -- which is a fairly apt mood-description of the Satellite Padparadscha fragrance, soft yet fiery.

A video clip below of a padparadscha gemstone (there are debates among jewelers as to how much red a padparadscha stone is allowed to exhibit, and this one seems like it might be veering dangerously close to ruby territory):

The Satellite fragrance line was founded by Sandrine Dulon as a companion to her Satellite Paris jewelry brand. A video clip below of a visit to the SoHo Satellite Paris boutique -- once you get past the first 90 seconds of the two female video hosts mugging for the camera, the clip switches to the English language as the pair examine the interior of the boutique, plus all that sparkly jewelry:

Note: Special thanks to Tara for the generous sample of Padparadscha. This will get added to my (increasing) list of fragrances I might eventually purchase, but it's got a bit of a wait before it hits the front of the line.

OFF TOPIC (but Artsy!):

So I learned from Marin's blog that today is The Fourth Annual Brigid in the Blogosphere Poetry Slam. I'll quietly offer up a piece from Howard Nemerov, and hope he doesn't mind:

One Way

The way a word does when
It senses on one side
A thing and on the other
A thought; at either side
It glances and goes deep
Together; like sunlight
On marble, on burnished wood,
That seems to be coming from
Within the surface and
To be one substance with it --
That is one way of doing
One's being in a world
Whose being is both thought
And thing, where neither thing
Nor thought will do alone
Till either answers the other;
Two lovers in the night
Each sighing other's name
Whose alien syllables
Become synonymous
For all their mortal night
And their embodied day:
Fire in the diamond,
Diamond in the dark.