Tag Archives: woody notes

Cedre Parfums 06130

22 May

Cedre is a wood and flower ghost fragrance.  It reminds me of a Shirley Jackson novel. It is amazing to me how many forms a Cedre fragrance can have. This one surprised me with its ethereal character.

A very light, pretty, powdery cedar with a faint barbershop quality from the violet. Despite its barbershop leanings, Cedre could be worn with ease by a man or a woman, because it is soft and slightly sweet.

It is very light, and well-blended so that the voilet, musk and cedar all weigh in about equally. Its projection is low and it does not last very long, but it would be appropriate for any occasion as a result. Maybe not for a loud party. Then again, who knows?

Cedre is the whispering voice of a beautiful female ghost who wanders the halls of an old bed & breakfast outside of town. She retreats to the lace of the curtains on the windows, but comes out to breathe her delicate sweet perfume right before you round the corner to discover no one is there.

Profumum Roma Arso

1 May

Arso is a dry pine that is encrusted with sticky, highly flammable sap. It starts out Christmas tree, and ends up blackened fire pit.


On the exhale, I get the faintest trace of something that has burned, like the smoldering remains of a campsite cookout.

The almost undetectable leather and incense provide a faint saltiness, which enhances the dimension of the burned smell as Arso dries down, but it never plainly spells LEATHER, or INCENSE. It’s projection and longevity are both very good.

The slightly charred pine is the feature here from start to finish. It is 100 percent unisex, (how could smelling like a tree be masculine or feminine?) and it can be worn whenever you wish to smell like you’ve been camping.

I could see this being really confusing to people in an office environment:
“You look like you’re working, but you smell like you’re about to roast marshmallows!… Either my co-worker is wearing Arso, or I’m having a hallucination.”

Or something.


All the pics From the Old Computer 2622

Nasomatto China White

21 Feb

This fragrance is a dream…

The young girl rests her focus on the maroon carpeting on the commuter
ferry to Governor’s Island. Her eyes are relaxed far away.
In Hell’s Kitchen, the 53 year old petite Hispanic babysitter wears a lavender silk blouse with black polka dots, and a grown out pixie haircut. The young girl embraces her, feeling her bony shoulder blades through the sheer fabric. The girl exhales and her tangled ponytail becomes a still life.
She’s somewhere in Georgia during Spring, climbing up onto an enormous
mound of sandy earth. There’s a workshop with tires hanging on the walls, particles of dust float in the shaft of light from the doorway, and on the upholstered wicker bench on the enclosed porch, there is a light blue plastic Pegasus with pink and yellow fairy wings, because even though she doesn’t know her age, it’s her birthday.
Each time she visits this brownstone off Central Park, it is both worn and exquisite: a red carpet on a severely warped staircase… A square shaped Chinese grandmother insists that she eat a warm, skinless pear covered in herbal medicine. The girl promises to eat it, then hides the bowl under the sink in the bathroom. They are both sure of themselves. They go for a walk to the park at sunset so the girl can jump over and over onto her own shadow.

She is now staring out the window of an empty flat in Istanbul in late afternoon in June. The window is open. It feels perfect to be truly alone.

In Nasomatto China White, there is a reflection that renders mirrors obsolete.

Nasomatto Black Afgano

21 Feb

Black Afgano reminds me of sticking my face out the window while riding shot gun, gazing at a pink purple and orange Sunset; the kind of Sunset that only chemicals can paint. It’s beauty humming like an engine, fleeting like the Sunset, and very very intense.
It also reminds me of the scent of Bazooka bubble gum, but a more natural smelling, richly designed version, enveloped by exquisite darkness. This fragrance projects an aura of internal sanctuary, like the end to an unforgettable day.

Tasha Pilot-Slow

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