andy warhol union square

I love that Andy Warhol was buried with a copy of Interview magazine and a bottle of Estee Lauder Beautiful perfume. Popular legend (i.e., Wikipedia) doesn't tell me whether he loved this particular perfume, but he was, by all accounts, a perfume lover, and I could see how he might like a big, bright, plastic-y floral like Beautiful. And I've become curious to compare Beautiful with two recent Bond No. 9 perfumes that were inspired by Andy Warhol, i.e., Andy Warhol Union Square and Andy Warhol Silver Factory, so here goes.

First, Andy Warhol Union Square. This perfume is a recent launch, and like nearly all of the Bond No. 9 perfumes I've tried so far, it goes on like gangbusters. Andy would certainly approve. The first blast of top notes is very pleasing to my nose, and includes the smell of grass, sugar, and possibly chlorine. There are also some bold white and green florals here, and maybe a touch of asphalt or other building materials. First impression is that this perfume pretty much nails the smell of Springtime in the city. The middle notes emerge fairly quickly, and include some big, sweet flowers - it's here, especially in the fabulous lily, where I definitely recognize some of Estee Lauder's genetic material. It's also at this point that I realize that what I mistook for chlorine earlier appears to be a wood - a bright, sharp wood that furthers a resemblance to Beautiful. But Union Square has more going on here than just Beautiful's big, bright floral. To me, it smells like the playground and the playground attendant, if it were snack time and the attendant were wearing Beautiful.

Okay, now Andy Warhol Silver Factory. I love this perfume. Although both Silver Factory and Union Square are perfumes that grab one's attention, rather sharply, I don't so much see any resemblance between SF and Beautiful. What I'm struck by instead is that both Silver Factory and Union Square have what seem to me to be very distinctive and well-integrated floral accords, each of which works an unusual job. For Silver Factory, I think the florals are what create that metallic/silver note; in Union Square, they result in more of a dessert note (maybe it's the freesia doing the work there?).

After another couple of hours, I am starting to really fall in love with Union Square. I don't know if it's the amber in the base or what, but it seems as though the combination of bright woods and sweet greens has lasted through to the end, and gained a really wonderful softness. Bond No. 9 calls this perfume warm and cool at the same time, but I would characterize it more as bright and dark - and at the end, it has a very nice depth that manages to elude melancholy. It's a little heavy and sweet for a Springtime fragrance, but I will definitely be wearing this one in the next few months.

One last note on what is probably my own favorite Estee Lauder perfume - i.e., White Linen. White Linen is such a nice, pleasing perfume in the bottle or the air that it makes me chuckle. On me it mostly smells like crayon, for some reason. Which is still a pretty nice smell.

ysl M7

My favorite perfume to wear right now is Yves Saint Laurent M7, which is a freakishly earthy, woody, dark masculine fragrance, but there you go.

andy warhol union square perfume bottle

I like this perfume bottle. What do you think? What do you think the perfume smells like?
(image courtesy of Bond No. 9)

strawberries

I went to the Lake Merritt farmer's market Saturday morning and got a basket of strawberries, and just now had some of them with my lunch. And I am here to tell you there really aren't too many things better than the sweet, dark, creamy fragrance of slightly over-ripe California strawberries in season. This incredible smell doesn't come from the strawberries that you buy at Safeway; I think the difference is that Safeway strawberries are picked green in order to make them travel well, and the farmer's market strawberries go more directly to the consumer - they are picked closer to ripening, and don't have to travel too far. To do it right, you really should go to the source - to the Central Coast, where I grew up, and get your strawberries from a location as close to the field as is available. And the strawberries you want are those ones that are just hitting that edge between ripe and rotting - based on my empirical research, there is a very short window for this, of about one or two days. And then you have your perfect strawberries, and that wonderful fragrance, which must be what it smells like in heaven.

interview

A couple of weeks ago, Robin at NowSmellThis arranged for an interactive interview with Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez, the authors of Perfumes: A Guide. Readers of NowSmellThis posted questions for the authors, and the interview is a series of responses - you can find it here. And a very entertaining read it is, especially for me since I am in the middle of reading the Guide right now (I have already broke the rule I made for myself to not read reviews of perfumes I haven't sniffed, oops).

I sent in a few, silly questions - here is their the response to one of them:


smelltheglove: Have you ever dreamed of a perfume, and what did it smell like?

LT: Thanks for the question, smells appeared in my dreams only a few years back. Until then I'd be smelling something and thinking it was pretty weak. Then in a dream I smelled perfume and it was exactly like Jeffrey Dame's Wanderlust: big, old-fashioned and very nice.

TS: Only a couple of times. I can't remember the smell, only that it was powerful. It's like when you dream you're reading something, a message of prophetic and possibly global import, and you remember everything about it (tone, typeface, paper, degree of eloquence) except what it said.


Love it!

I sent fan mail

I read Perfumes: The Guide last night until my eyelids wouldn't stay open and today I am drinking coffee, blearily. Before I went to bed last night, I sent a fan email to Ms. Sanchez and Mr. Turin, telling them I love love love the book, but why no CB I Hate Perfumes or Demeter fragrance reviews? By golly, I got an email this morning from Luca Turin in response, the substance of which I will share: Mr. Turin writes that he feels that these two perfume brands "(very deliberately) fall short of being perfumes proper, in the same way that a sound is not music. All you can say abt them is how well they approximate the intended thing." By golly! Can't say I agree. Perfumes: The Guide includes reviews of similarly simple/one-note fragrances, such as the Clean line and (it could be argued) Jo Malone, so I still think it's an omission. But also a clearly-reasoned one.

my jicky

I am risking the discomfort of my co-workers today and am wearing Jicky, one of my very favoritest perfumes and one of the old, classic Guerlain fragrances that (as I understand it) haven't changed that much, in the last few decades at least. Some Guerlains are ridiculously, deeply gorgeous; others are so poignant they bring a lump to the throat; others are so mossy and sharp I have trouble being in the same room with them. Jicky is none of these things. Its mix of spice, vanilla and woods is similar to Shalimar, but it is earthier and somehow subtler than Shalimar, I think. The warm-skin quality of the middle and base notes could lull you into a sleepy feeling of intimacy, if there wasn't that clever little thread of herbal/floral freshness (lavender, rosemary and bergamot are in the list of notes) running through the thing to alert your senses and make your eyes fly open again. This is one of the most balanced perfumes I know, but not so much in terms of ingredients as in terms of personality - it is a balance of indoors and outdoors, depth and clarity, humor and intelligence. This may be an odd way to describe it, but it smells like a great-smelling person wearing a simple, great-smelling perfume. Another way to describe it is as a testament to a fine and easy union between feminine and masculine. To me, it is the smell of a life well-lived.

I like the name, too. If I had named it, I probably would have come up with something like "Manure and Lavender," which I'm sure would have made it fly off the shelves. And which is why nobody is eager to pay me the big bucks to write perfume ad copy.