Pickleloaf.com : Books : Perfumes: The Guide


Books : Perfumes: The Guide In association with Amazon.com Rating: - Use this book As An Interactive Guide to Exploring and Collecting Perfumes I'm older now, and I have a little more disposable income (and a lot more self-confidence), so I have had great fun using this book's witty reviews to guide me in trying and purchasing perfumes. I never had more than one or two bottles of perfume on my vanity table before. Now I have several dozen because this book has made me see perfume in a whole new way. Yes, the book is a delight to read, but I have found it much more fun to actually use. Interestingly, I discovered just how interactive this book can be because I am a book lover. I was intrigued by the book's description of a perfume by L'Artisan Parfumeur called Dzing! The authors likened the perfume's scent to a "secondhand bookstore." I purchased a bottle on a whim when I happened across it on a trip to New York. It was only when I was browsing at my favorite used bookstore days later that it struck me. The vanilla overtones in this fabulous scent do indeed evoke the wonderful aroma of old paper. I smelled my wrist, I sniffed the terrific, familiar book-laden air around me, I felt a happy sense of discovery and I was hooked. Since reading this book, I have stuck it into my tote whenever I plan to be in a major department store. The book's vignettes ignite my curiosity and imagination. Take, for example, Thierry Mugler's Angel. The authors deem this scent a masterpiece. They tell the reader the history behind the scent -- that it started as a joke which combined the elements of a masculine and a feminine fragrance, but that in making that joke the perfumer came up with a truly new kind of scent. The authors point out that Angel exists in a "high energy state of contradiction. Many perfumes are beautiful or pleasant, but how many are exciting?" Then the authors deliver the zinger, which gives me a mental image for placing the perfume into my own life context. They say that Angel evokes that " woman in a film who seethes "He's so annoying!" and marries him in the end." I got that! I could then smell the contradiction and the attraction in the scent. I purchased a bottle because the scent now "speaks" to me in a way it never could have before I read this book. Is perfume necessary to my existence? No. When my children were small and we had meager time, money or energy, perfume was simply that handy bottle of Chanel No. 5 my mother had sent me for Christmas which I sprayed on to feel pretty on those infrequent dinner/movie dates with my husband (when we could get a babysitter.) Do I agree with everything the authors say about the various perfumes? No, but that's part of the fun. This book has opened a pleasant door for me. Perfume has become a fascinating foray into sensual exploration. I enjoy reading the metaphors and similes, the creative adjectives and backstories describing these perfumes, and then experimenting with the truth of them for myself. The authors have done something wonderful with this book. They have taken the mystique which advertising has always made sure surrounded fragrance and swept it away. But they have replaced that mystique with something better -- little personalities, if you will, for the different scents. Now browsing at the perfume counter has become like attending a cocktail party filled with famous people. Some will speak to you immediately. Some will stand back, but become friendly if you approach. Some are dull as dishwater. Some you will dislike. But being an insider at the party is exciting. I love that I have an invitation. Rating: - Catty, superior, and yes - bitchy. One liners about how bad certain perfumes smell isn't really what I would expect from a book that takes itself so seriously as to be titled "Perfumes: The Guide". I was hopeing for something informative. Instead I got two divas with their claws out. Yes, they're clever. They're also so superior it's nauseating. The information in the begining of the book was helpful, I enjoyed that. But the reviews were a waste of time. My issue is not with how many stars they give a certain perfume or whether or not I agree with how much they liked it (or hated it so much they insulted and mocked it), I just would have enjoyed a little more subtance and a little less venom. And for the people who were insuled by the bad reviews of their perfumes, I can see why you would be. This book is very insulting to what it does not worship. I can understand why someone who enjoys, and smells like a perfume that gets ridiculed in this book could take that a little personally. Rating: - A clue on how NOT to stink up the elevator on a Monday morning You know how it goes... you get a spritz of something in the mall and, yes, it smells real purdy but is it worth the money? Is it special? Is it "you?" It smells better than nothing... usually, and on the other hand you remember all too well getting in the elevator with a bunch of people overspritzed on a Monday morning and feeling like you are going to heave. So, is any of it worthwhile? Also, a couple of things I suspected turned out to be true: 1.) Manufacturers change scents... AH HA!!! I suspected as much. 2.) Scents go through many changes on the skin... AH HA!!! Again. 3.) A lot of the hyped scents are CRAP. AH HA!! Yet, again. No wonder we are confused. Every once in while you smell someone who smells fabulous and it's back to the cosmetic counter which is so confusing and after a while you end up with a bunch of bottles at home which smell various ways, none of them necessarily great and you wonder: is that all there is? No, as it turns out. It isn't (all there is). Example: Go to Victoria's Secret which turns out to be a scary place, (a roil of celebration about average body parts of 3.5 billion women on the planet) and stumble around the beauty component of the store and pick up the "Very Sexy for Her" perfume set which the snotty salesgirl dressed all in black and is not hiding her contempt for the manner in which you are hiding your nakedness... and she says, "Oh, that's a fabulous scent.... Everyone loves it," and looks as though it makes her sick that you might actually buy it and somehow be associated in anyone's mind with her even if it is just via their honker. So, when she's not looking you snap up the biggest vat of it you can manage along with the armloads of other stuff you hope launches you into the hip lifestyle and scuttle to the counter and whip out you credit card and feel you may have accomplished the biggest coup ever. But somehow "Very Sexy for Her" never lives up to its promise. Maybe you weren't the right Her. Maybe you're overreaching. Something is very wrong, not very sexy. TS (one of the authors) to the rescue. She says: "I have been racking my brain, trying to understand how one of the most unpleasant fragrances ever made was developed and brought to market. It consistes of a loud metallic note (which you can replicate at home by chewing on a piece of aluminum foil) plus the sourest woody amber ever and a whiff of stale pizza. Let us charitably assume that its self proclaimed sexiness has to do with the personal memories of some of VS's executives who falls helplessly into erotic fantasies in the presence of chemical spills and has mistaken this for a universal experience. Are people buying this? This fragrance and Givency's Very Irresistable lead one to believe that "very" is actually perfume industry jargon for "not at all." AH HA!!! (if there was a bigger font option, I'd use it here) Thank you TS and LT. Now what I need is this printed up on little cards so the next time a snotty VS saleperson.... (well, you know.) Rating: - some "experts" First, let me state clearly that I used to value Luca Turin's work, and I'm enthusiastic about "The secret of scent". It is his name which attracted my attention to this Guide. Second, I did check authors' synopses on the back page. Dr. Turin holds a PhD in biophysics and writes about perfumes. For the little I know biophysics is not perfumery. Ms. Sanchez is an expert and avid perfume collector, writes on the Internet, lived in San Francisco and now in London. Now, how many prospective readers of this Guide don't collect perfumes, don't write on the Internet, didn't change a place of residence? OK, there is one difference - we don't claim to be experts. Bemused by this preliminary finding I set out to explore the book. The faults I found are so many I will just enumerate them. 1) Text is uneven. Parts written by Turin (all text is initialed) flow easily, making for effortless reading. Sanchez's penmanship seems heavily indebted to tabloid prose, only it achieves higher level of sentence convolution. Copious references to "mom" and "dad" made me wonder if this book targets the adolescents. 2) Products selected for inclusion. A lot of these brands and fragrances is just noise. We either can't buy them in the USA, or they were shortly on the market and disappeared. What's the point of including these products, in particular since many are branded as either "disappointing" or "awful"?. (Though it does give an idea why some perfumes are not available this side of Atlantic.) Remaining selections are either staple Sephora, or department store niche, say Creed or Annick Goutal. 3) Products not selected for inclusion. I looked for some the well-known names - Panthere de Cartier, Shiseido's Feminite du bois, Hermes' Rouge, Versace Blonde, Jardin du Nil MPG (do not confuse with Le Jardin sur le Nil by Hermes) - futilely. The whole brand of Molinard is dispensed with "cheap floral scents" and only Habanita merits the review. So-called niche is limited to few brands, as a rule available at department stores. Don't expect to find here any mention of DelRae, Nanadebarry, Christiane Gelle, Shalini or Fifi Chachnil of the frolicsome flacon. Not sure if the authors heard about Montale, MPG makes an appearance only once or twice. (Strangest of all, considering the taste exhibited in perfume rating - more below - they left out Avon.) Space does not allow me to list all what is missing. At first I thought that the authors just pander to the interests of major department stores, but then checked again and yes, Trish McEvoy is also absent, so it's not department stores. Of course with the sheer number of perfumes on the market they had to make some exclusion choices, but what was the criteria? Perhaps product selection reflects the French/British market. Why, then, this book had been offered to the American public at all? Product selection should be adjusted to the local market. 4) Style of critique. Typical review is limited to up till three lines of qualifiers, intended to explain the fragrance's rating, which ranges from "masterpiece" to "awful". Any Internet-based retailer gives better "reviews" just by listing ingredients and comparable fragrances. This Guide is nothing better than a guide to personal tastes of the authors. 5) Tastes of the authors. Yes, they asked for it, by employing peculiar style of critique, see 4). Syrup, syrup ueber alles! True perfumery masterpiece sags under overload of vanilla and assorted kitchen odors, with generous hints at soiled underwear. Flowers, or rather "insect attractants", are deemed olfactorily inferior. Price is not a factor in rating, though price is said to reflect quality of ingredients; several affordable masterpieces may be found in the "personal care" section of your local food mart. Four labels - Guerlain, Estee Lauder, Chanel and Dior - dominate the field. Out of the three, two are owned by LVMH and only one has perfumes as its primary product. Given all this, I don't understand how the Authors could overlook Charlie! The Authors never reveal their evaluation criteria. 6) Precision of execution. Sample case, Bulgari Black, which is rated "masterpiece" (did the Authors ever sniff the original Black, which reeked of burning rubber, and burning rubber alone? it wasn't pretty, but it was indeed outstanding in a very unappealing way. There is no mention of it in the review, while so many other scents come with history of all releases; current version of Black reeks of suburban mediocrity). The last sentence: "its place is with Bandit, Tabac Blond, and Cabochard among the great emancipated fragrances of all time". Now let's look at the ratings of the "great emancipated fragrances of all time". Bandit - a masterpiece; Tabac Blond - awful; Cabochard - disappointing. What did the Venerable Authors smell besides perfumes? 7) Presentation method. All products are listed alphabetically, followed by lists of "top ten" and all grade categories - masterpieces, recommended, disappointing, awful. Needless to say any such ranking functions only either as personal confession, or an attempt to influence prospective buyers. Judging by distribution of masterpieces across giant marketing firms we are dealing with the latter. That's why, perhaps, any absence of groupings and indexes based on the brand, creator, or the fragrance content. On the positive note, I have absolutely no problem with the nasty tone of many reviews. Nasty wit can be wickedly funny and illuminating, though here it is neither, due to excess of clichés worn out by constant use in all texts on fashion, style and glamour. It doesn't matter anyhow, since the Guide totally fails in its purported mission. It is just another boring oeuvre on "style" (yes, "style" and not style), intended by its creator as a money-maker and directed at the newbies. Newbies are always numerous and impressionable, so it is rather easy to get them enthusiastic about - and spending on - anything. Footnote: I did not buy this book, in spite of previous positive experience with one of the authors. Decided to borrow it first and check. And the verdict is: I will not buy this book and will not bother with any consecutive editions. Better to spend on some perfume not listed in this guide. Rating: - Opens your eyes to a world beyond the Sephora selection--BUT! Yes, BUT! I was dancing with anticipation when the library finally delivered this to me. I am not a "perfumista" and I think I have a terrible nose for things. I am also a sucker for adverts, I admit it! So I was really interested to see so many perfumes reviewed in one volume. Gone are the silly and ultimately unenlightening magazine tags of "fruity," "floral," and "sexy." LT and TS delve into depth for those perfumes that merit such attention, and for others, two words often suffice. I have no qualms whatsoever about the tone of this book, which many seem to think cruel or overly snipey. I may like it because, well, I talk that way myself. However, I also have some serious complaints. It's not just that they dislike some fragrances that I like, etc. but LT's overall theory of perfume and its application in this guide leaves me cold. Perfume is something intimately tied to memory and personal taste. I cannot accept that perfume does not smell different on different people, as they posit. I tried Guerlain's Shalimar, which they rate as a masterpiece, but to me and on me it smells like wet baby diapers. Ew. I was trying to think of an example: Those scientific chaps have shown that most of our sense of taste is really our sense of smell (this is why when you have a stuffy nose your food tastes off). Let's say a person absolutely abhors food X in any form. This person goes to the best restaurant in the world and the best chef at that restaurant prepares a complex and beautiful meal that also contains X. The person will still dislike it. Even though food critics may have lauded that dish for its mastery of ingredients, complexity, etc, that person will still hate it. However, I learned about fragrances I never knew about before and have tried some of them with good results. But lots of brands and popular fragrances were completely omitted? Where's Fresh? Hard Candy? Gap? I hope they revise this with new fragrances every year. I'll probably read it, but not buy it. And take everything with a handful of salt.