Scent Lab

"I wear Pom Noir year 'round, but just layer it w/ other Jo Malone scents. For example, layered w/ her Nectarine & Honey Blossom, it keeps that scent from being too sweet and one-dimensional. Together, it's wonderful and perfect for spring. Jo's scents really almost are all at their best when layered, not worn solo." -- Amber


Amber, EXCELLENT tip. I'm a cynic at heart and so have never really taken Jo Malone's "fragrance layering" credo seriously (I just assumed it was a way to get us to buy more expensive perfume). But I stand corrected, because it turns out that a 2:1 ratio of N&HB to PN smells absolutely incredible!

Somehow the N&HB smooths out all of the PN's sharp edges, without actually blunting the lovely fruity scent. And just in case, I applied some just before I got into bed, knowing I'd be awake reading for a few hours and then would try to drop off to sleep. Sure enough, no headachey feeling, no sickly-sweetness. I'm not saying that the scent stayed the same the whole night, just that the pom syrup drizzle didn't wake me up.

Very good call! Anyone have advice for layering with Burberry's London? I liked it, but my mother says it smells "like body odor". Charming.

Jo Malone "Pomegranate Noir"

(In a shifty nod to the economic disaster, note I'm now displaying a 30ml bottle. Ahem.)

I had no expectations for this scent. I don't really go shopping for pomegranates at the market, and though I do spend a good 30% of every earth day in total darkness, who knows what "noir" means? Will a gruff man in a fedora appear on my doorstep, call me sweetie, and then spend the next 2 hours struggling with a drink problem and a crime syndicate? (And is it worrying that I find that strangely tempting?)

So all I had to go on was the fact that I know Jo Malone's citrus stuff really doesn't work on me, but her rich florals and fruits do. To the scent lab!

[later, in living room]

Well, gosh, this somehow isn't what I expected. When I first put it on, there was a sort of "oh, holy god" reaction, the feeling that that small spritz certainly packed a punch. It takes a few minutes to untangle what's going on here, and even then I can't really isolate the notes, I can just get a feeling. This is pine forests and lichen and candied plums, velvet and fragrant woods. The pomegranate's in here too, freshly split in half and lovely, and I think that might be what saves the scent from being too strange and heady and incense-thick.

I know I'm going to have to put this scent back into my cabinet and wear it this autumn, probably in October. Initially I thought I'd just say this is a Christmas scent, but the longer I wear it, the less I want to pigeonhole it. There's a gentle time in New England, when the leaves have all fallen but are still fresh on the ground, and the night begins to fall very quickly, seemingly 10 minutes earlier by the day. And I remember walking home from friends' houses in that unexpected dark, with a chill in the air that heightened the pine and dampened sound so that I was just this warm live young note, walking through a stillness that seemed almost mystical.

That quiet satisfaction somehow carries through to this scent. The difference is that it feels more knowing: the same quiet night, but an adult woman with dark flowing hair and a long burgundy coat in the distance, walking into mist. (Test before you buy, though -- this doesn't stay long on me unless I'm wearing enough layers for it to really simmer against my skin.)

EDIT: Well, that's unexpected. I thought the perfume was gone, and then boom -- pomegranate juice. Like it's been boiled down to a syrup, then drizzled on my wrist. Longevity? This doesn't fade, at ALL. But it really is a much different scent two hours in, and to be honest, I'm not sure I could sleep with it on. Pomegranate juice is very, very very sweet, and there's not much else happening at the last stage. Yikes.

Verdict: Wonderful for the start of cool weather -- when everyone else is wilting from the lack of sun and sullenly wrapping up, this lush scent wards off any chill from within. But when the scent turns syrupy... Well, I'm not sure I can take it.

Public Service Announcement

Attention Jo Malone shoppers:

I just got an email notifying me that you can get 25% Jo Malone products. It only lasts until the 11th because it's a Valentine's promotion (accursed holiday!), but try this link and see if it's still in action.

Quoth the rules:

OFFER VALID ONLY AT JOMALONE.COM (NOT VALID AT JO MALONE SHOPS OR DEPARTMENT STORE LOCATIONS). VALID FROM 2/10/2009 - 2/11/2009 ONLY ON JOMALONE.COM. VALID ON IN-STOCK MERCHANDISE ONLY. NOT VALID ON PURCHASE OF GIFT CARDS, EGIFT CARDS OR CUSTOM GIFT SETS. NOT VALID ON PENDING PURCHASES OR PURCHASES MADE BEFORE OR AFTER 2/11/2009. ALL PURCHASES ARE SUBJECT TO BANK AUTHORIZATION PRIOR TO PROCESSING. ONLY AUTHORIZED PURCHASES WILL BE PROCESSED AND SHIPPED. WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO CANCEL ANY ORDER DUE TO UNAUTHORIZED, ALTERED, OR INELIGIBLE USE OF OFFER AND TO MODIFY OR CANCEL THIS PROMOTION DUE TO SYSTEM ERRORS OR UNFORESEEN PROBLEMS.

Obviously, I've got a bit of a soft spot for this particular retailer, so that's making this temptation particularly acute.... Mmmm, Jo Malone. Here's a roll call of the Scents & Sensibility reviews of Jo Malone products:

Red Roses

Nectarine Blossom & Honey

Lime Blossom

Amber & Lavender

Orange Blossom

Vintage Gardenia

Jo Malone "Red Roses"

Every time I saw this scent described, people referred to it as a "young rose". I did not know what that meant. It made me think of the waxy roses your boyfriend gave you on Valentine's Day when you were fifteen, the ones that smelled both watery and sharply sweet (mostly likely due to the plant feed dumped into the buckets of bouquets at the local supermarket). And if that was what a "young rose" is all about, no thank you. I'll stick with other memories.

But in December, as I was returning from a fabulous trip to the UK, I found myself wandering past the Heathrow Jo Malone store. I was a bit high off the absurdly advantageous exchange rate, and so splurged on an entire bottle of "Red Roses" without even taking a spritz (never a good idea to apply an unknown perfume before a transatlantic flight -- might have an "Angel"ic experience). As soon as I landed I broke out the bottle, and I've been wearing it frequently ever since.

I get what they mean by "young rose". This is like waking up early, putting on the teakettle and wandering outside while there's still dew on everything. It's still cold out and everything's slightly chill to the touch, but you bring out your tea and a book and settle at a table on the patio right by a rosebush. And as the sun rises and everything warms, a gentle, soft warmth of rose builds in the air mixed with dew drying on greenery and that very clear smell of early morning.

This isn't a big bloomy scent that brings to mind velvet and dusk and the Phantom of the Opera, and that's why it's something I can wear frequently. Not to get graphic, but some rose scents can be a little porny on a 20 year old woman, but might be perfectly appropriate on a 50 year old -- it's a sensuality and depth I think older women have earned and can balance, while on a younger woman it tips over into neon sign territory. There are occasions to wear a scent that shouts "lush" and "ripe", but... I prefer to choose those moments carefully.

"Red Roses" doesn't cause that sort of confusion. It's no simple bud rose in a vase, or even a gorgeous storebought bouquet. It's living, breathing roses all around you, distilled into liquid form -- full of potential, and one of my favourites.

Verdict: If you're the type who loves spending time in hedge mazes and gardens, this one's for you. Lovely and classy, possibly a rose scent for people who can't find the right rose.

Jo Malone "Nectarine Blossom and Honey"

This is my summer scent.

I'm saying it now, I'm saying it loudly, and there will be no going back. As much as I can't wear the citrus scents, straight-up nectarine goes on bright and fresh and stays forever. I want to wear this scent from May to September for the forseeable future, under white shirts with skirts and sandals, over thin sweaters, being brushed across the nape of my neck by a high ponytail. It's the sort of scent that makes me think of ribbons.

It's not complex. Nectarine, nectarine, nectarine. But unlike the way an orange scent sours on my skin, the nectarine merely warms and simmers. Like nectarine cobbler, or a peach pie, this is a fruit that smells just as lovely warm as it does straight off the tree. And I'd guess that following Jo's layering technique with another one of her scents would probably change this from a summer scent to something spicy and thick, a baked good right out of the oven.

And as an added bonus, it turns out that Olive is actually allergic to nectarines -- so not only does this scent make me feel lovely and springy, but it makes my sister think of itching and rashes! It's like there's a built-in anti-theft device! Brilliant!

Verdict: MINE!

Jo Malone "Amber & Lavender"

This is billed as "unisex". Yeah, not so much.

I smell like a boy. To be precise, a sexy man who's just on his way out the door in the morning to his job in the city, straightening his tie around his crisp white collar, all shaving creamy and aftershavey and minty. In other words, an absolutely maddeningly wonderfully sexy scent. On my boyfriend. Not on my wrist.

Apparently Jo created this for her husband, which certainly makes sense, as it is exactly what would cause you to make your boyfriend (very) late for work. Canadianne thinks it's brilliant, but agrees that it's really more masculine than I can carry off (which hasn't stopped her from grabbing and sniffing my wrist every time I walk past). There's a touch of something arid and liquorice in here, and maybe even fern.

To be honest, I might pick up a couple more testers of this scent; even though I'd never wear it out of the house, it is a really crisp and attractive cologne that would probably be nice and twisty worn on a night in. In the meantime, I'm going to attack some male friends with samples and see how they fare.

Won't make the mistake of wearing it out again, though -- I've been getting some double-takes just walking through the office, and I'm not sure if people think I've just mauled an attractive man in the lifts or if they're all spontaneously questioning their sexuality.

Verdict: Absolute sex in a bottle on the right guy. Yowza.

Jo Malone "Orange Blossom"

Unfortunately, this smells of nothing more than Fanta and fizzy sherbet on me. I can imagine that it would smell lovely on others, but to my skin it's flat and dull with a bizarrely dairy sourness to it as well. Like someone poached a satsuma in milk, then dropped it in carbonated water. Bleh! The only good thing was that it swiftly disappeared.

Verdict: I smell like I just lost a fight with a sugar-hyped toddler

Jo Malone "Vintage Gardenia"

The Jo Malone offices kindly sent along a slew of samples and test strips, so I was spoilt for choice this morning. After a quick deliberation (during which I sniffed so much I got a bit lightheaded), I settled on what was billed as a floral, "Vintage Gardenia with Cardamom & Myrrh".

Immediately, I was worried that this was too heavy to wear to the office. Spicy and musky and piney and mulchy, it's quite a knockout on first application. And then... it vanished. Spooky.

I'd been warned about the staying power of Jo Malone's line, and was ready to write this one off at the one-hour mark. But then it suddenly came back, more mellow and warm, and now I like it very much.

The sandalwood and spice remind me exactly of a carved wooden fan my father brought me from Japan when I was little. The fan itself was scented sandalwood, and I would take it out and briefly flutter it in my face to catch the heavy scent before quickly trapping it back in the box in an attempt to preserve the fragance. I loved the odor, but even then I knew it was too mature for a child.

Any gardenia in this scent lurks well below the woodsy spice on me. My boss Pun Fu liked it a lot, saying it smelled like the inside of a candle shop, but in a good way. I think it's a bit much for a summer day at the office, but I will certainly try it again when we're well into autumn. Sadly, it does seem to largely cut out at the four-hour mark, surging infrequently after that point.

This might be an excellent cologne on a man. I'm not really into the male/female scent split, but on a man's skin this might come across as more natural than it does on mine. I'm in no rush to go beyond the sample at the moment.

Verdict: Good all-around warm-me-up on a gray November afternoon