Reviews by Redneck Perfumisto

Creamy fresh fake woods
Both by Legendary names
Seem to smell as sweet

As one another
One containing Rebranding
Though quite odorless

Powerful in its
Olfactory suggestion
The newness of new

That Sister Gingham
The Good Witch of Body Works
Might wave blue plaid wand

O'er butane's caldron
This time in some diff'rent way
To some blue plaid end

Smell it, boys, or not
The plaid in the black and gray
I'll be keeping both

Legends I and II
For Legendary oak moss
Surely smelled in both

Upon closer sniff
Between the ev'rything else
Where it never was

Ev'ry name a thing
Power lying in itself
To create Legend.

Shimoda hotel
Your hair tonic memories
Deserve far better

Than broken gaiku
Hinting at your components
Yet so it begins

Deconstructing your
Citric herbal lavender
Tinted aqua green

Leaving out Kyoto
And ev'rything in between
When you made me smile

In hotel mirror
Was that before or after
We went to onsen?

What a shame if I
Washed your fragrance down the drain
Must have been after

Yeah, that's right - after
That's when I realized that
My dear wife is right

Sel de Vétiver
Really does smell a bit like
A men's hair tonic

Or at least this one
Which I finally bought when
We got to Kyoto

Where was I?  Ah, yes.
Remembering the cool breeze
Of sunny spring days

Wearing mixed citrus
Perfected with petigrain
Cooled with a touch of

Subtilescential
Menthoyukoliptoloid
Yeah, that's right - quite cool

But very subtle
Because I'm not really sure
This thing has base notes

Perhaps just enough
A touch of oakmoss on skin
If you squint a bit

Yeah, but otherwise
Less is more, and someone thought
Way less is way more

And perhaps they're right
Or at least it seemed that way
Thirteen hours from now

Someteen days ago
When I walked into that store
And bought your trouble

Leaving a piece of
Old me in some place where it's
Damn hard to retrieve.

Yeah, Ausureza
You exotic addiction
We'll see about that.

D'ark and D'amb'ry D'oud, they say
Not so sure I feel that way
Nonetheless it smells quite nice
Nicer still at lesser price

Wifey likes it well enough
Not so all of Wexner's stuff
Though't be wat'ry, weak and thin
Somehow this stuff makes me grin

Bathlinade and not much more
Smell the missing notes galore
D'ark and d'amber? Sure, Jan, sure
Rainy oud wood's just a lure

Still by gum, it still smells good
Synthy, rubb'ry, amb'ry wood
Not quite Noir, nor note quit 'nure
D'Oud to drydown doth endure

Not much D'oud 'na spray to WIF
Crisper D'ambers one will sniff
Still for artificial c'lognes
Nein of D'Ouds beats none of Y'Own's!

To ChatGPT:

Coco's Puffs are still
Solid gold Fortran, even
Without -NO2.

To Self:

Your high-school girlfriend
Who wore this to the drive-in
Was out of your league.

To Coco:

The significance
Of 5 is likely part of
The simulation.

To Jacques:

The square root of 5
Tall in her youthful splendor
Never forgotten.

To Olivier:

You proved that 5 yields
Upon further division
A further beauty.

Applewood whiskey
With white pepperwood wind-down
Will win well-wishes

While one will wonder
Why whiffs of wondrous whiskey
Waxed wild thence to wane

Whereupon whisps of
Woody whispers wandered whence
What would scarce remain

Whiskey's abstinence
Once withheld with prominence
Welcomes wither's way

Woodn't due to stay
Wokemoss wasting with wee light
Won't put up a fight

Wouldn't wish upon
Woody wood note wearathon
Whiskey's wan Reserve

What would weak will serve?
Will one wish florevermore?
Or would barmaid pour

What we won't ignore?
When Whisktopia is here
Wake one from would's beer!

***

A very enjoyable release from B&BW, with a kind of apple jack start and a whiskey middle over a woody base.  The whiskey-prominent parts are quite enthralling, while the remainder is merely enjoyable, and reminiscent of older high-quality B&BW offerings.  If absence makes the heart grow fonder, enjoy the drydown, but if the heart grows weary, refresh accordingly. 

Conspiracy of
Bergamot and coumarin
To smell like neither

Is punishable
By reminiscence of the
Pokémon fragrance

Metallic citrus
Reminding one of nothing
In a something way

Without the lemons
Still trying to get a whiff
With a childish smile

Stop sniffing the pan
And put something in it, boy
I said to myself

While fighting the urge
To smell behind the curtain
And grow TFU

Thus recommended
For kids needing a pan that's
Safe for the office.

The very scent of
Fall familiarity
Is so familiar

Lost in the details
Of drying air, gently warmed
Into ambience

Yet not heated by
Waxing candles in the air
In another room

Spices not for food
Nor for any holiday
We can imagine

Smells of bright and warm
Float between the fireplace and
Metapotpourri

Candle of candles
Good for that first compliment
Of je ne sais quoi

TARDIS of fragrance
The limited edition
Requests your presence.

O, d'Versace, Dylan, Bleu
How'd I, stumble, into, you?

Cousin, nephew, whate'er you.be
This pen, this glass, raised'un, to thee

Our chance, encounter, a bit of, a lark
Knew there, was something, some glass-held-ing, spark

Y es there's, another, that ends with a Y
Y ou, upon first glance, know probably wh Y

Then there's, my Bleu fairs, so dear unto Red
Eaued to the genre, it goes without said

What e'er, YouThere, BlueGère, complete
Worthy, are thee, thus to, compete

Fresh country breeze in a musquatic way
Sneaky old good boy, this good old boy'd say

Windy, persisty, and gusty, I'd swear
Though loveless meter'd say nothing was there

Low sparks of grasses, and flowers in trees
Burn through some mem'ries that put me at ease

Dear winds from somewhere, to somewhere they go
Thus is the Spirit, to those it will know

Spring upon summer, winter on spring
Snow upon green grass, and bird upon wing

Nature, eternal, now ready, for next
Peaceful, enduring, returning, if hexed

That's what you smell like, though I don't know how
Ethers and ketones with love you endow

Eau, Bleu Ridge Mountains, I saw you in fall
Spring's when I smelled you, and waren't there atall.

Come, my friends, and gather round
I met a girl, you see
Let me tell you all about
Siesta Guava Key

Lightly sweet and fruity
In a Jo Maloney way
No Angelic sugar
But enough for me to say

Dear dishwater blondie
With your perfect skin and smile
Let me smell your kitchen
In contemporary style

Bowl of fruity freshness
Sitting perfectly so there
How did someone turn it
Into something I could wear?

Wifey thinks you're pretty'
But you're not the scent for her
Zero is the value
Of her sweetness scentage per

I quite like your mandarin
Your mango and your musk
Subtle as an ocean breeze
When stars come out at dusk

Better, still, your freshness
Which instills inside this boy
Spirits of a better kind
Through ol-fac-tory joy

Will I wear you ev'ry day?
There's not a chance, be sure
You belong to pretty girls
Of innocent allure

Though I find you marvelous
In pretty girly way
I belong to Fille d'Hermès
Whose passion is their Day

Or her Femme Bulgari
With its violet and its rose
Lacking any sugar plums
To powder puff her nose

Trust me, dear, my girl's bad boy's
No proper lad for you
But to all, I recommend
A righteous sniff or two

Something there, quite marvelous
I sense inside of thee
Vaya con Dios d'Amour
Siesta Guava Key!

Feb 09, 2023

Iris in garden
Let this ant patrol your leaves
'Til flowers arrive

***

Dec 31, 2022

East Side den-o'-zen
Givenchy Gentleperson
Let his heart be suede

Mystery Siri
Formerly known as Iris
No more top billing

In her leather skirt
Living dangerously, from
Clone war refugee

To some sly gent's scent
With her Prada packaging
And her Chanel style

She met him online
Gateway to Perfume City
A tip from Frag Comm

Her flagrant rifestyle
Hiding out on the East Side
Apple of his eye

Hard cider queenie
The smell of booze upon her
Just now, just enough

An endless party
She told him that vanilla's
A dangerous thing

Not because itself
But because what it can hide
And what it cannot

And you'd better know
Which is which and what is what
Or you may get burned.

Surfin' with Tonka
Poster on powder-room wall
Real or MemorEx?

That's when he knew that
She was the bad girl for him
Despite her little

Lavender drama
Her designer pretentions
Her trendy manners

Not ev'ry perfume
Spills her M.O. that easy
Lookin' for some love

She wields vanilla
Her double X proof of life
A wink and a smile

But not a drop more
Lest scented gent lose intent
To take the girl home

Knowing she can pass
For one more fluffy fougère
Swirled into star style

By merry market
Creation and destruction
Of endless new tropes

The new and improved
Givenchy Gentleperson
By Prada Chanel

M'infusion d'OHris
Unexpected little find
Wrong street, wrong city

But all the right stuff
They told her she'd be a star
And for him, she was

A fragrance for all
In True Fragrance Universe
Unlike this one, where

Mistakes will be made
It's the nature of perfume
Scented lies pile up

Until somebody
Just stops the meta-go-round
And says "This smells good."

Her West Side story
Waiting in some dossier
"Five Fast Fragrant Facts!"

A surprisingly
Unisex FF version
Of Dear Alien

Where Red Fruit behaves
Crazy Jasmine follows suit
Pepper gets to speak

And Amber E Woods
The student, not the stripper
Wondrously appears.

Leather & Brandy
Were smelling rather dandy
In butanic spray

For a little while
Très imaginary style
Lived another day

In the Churchill chair
Parking moi said derrière
Undeservedly

Ah, but Brandy knows
Not my lips nor even those
Knowing history

Call us what you will
Wisp of wine will wander still
Waxing Wexnerly

Should I recognize
Ode de some perfumer's lies
Still poetic'ly

Let lush leather wane
Drops of brandy make this stain
Tartly like young love

Should the mem'ry fade
Let that from 't'was dearly said
Fall from deep above

Kivas twenty-one
Know their story isn't done
What was I to wear?

Leather, Brandy &
Smelling like a hundred grand
None were wiser there

Fougèrriffic'ly
Spicy wine vat tannery
Bubbles into life

Hot mess mauve dress smell
Someone knows you too damn well
Think it was my wife

Of the boozy four
Bath & Body's manly more
Leather made this sale

Brandy tagged along
Knowing she could do no wrong
Wagging eager tale

Let us then explore
Bucket listy desty more
Wildly Westly we

That the wifely life
Free from stay-at-homely strife
Oh, say, can you see?

Raiders of Lost Park
Secrets of a diff'rent arc
Whole Ungrayly bits

Gravely stolen by
Lost descendants asking why
Silent stone still sits

We of modern fires
Strange perfumes and odd desires
Stealing bits of light

Leave no trace behind
Campfires only in the mind
Pitch black in the night

Let their smoke remain
Sing to those who hear again
Breathing in the song

Echo from cold stone
Light ancestral brightly shone
Through glad senses wrong

Wooden kitchen seat
Though you not be so replete
Vision questily

Thanks for all the where
Sturdy stillness helped me dare
Bath & Bodily.

Sporty ladies' blue
O, what shall I do with you?
Yea, this guiltless smile
May just keep U 'round a while
Ode to some tomboy
Fit for cad or son of ROI
Floral woody musk
Found at morn when left at dusk
Scare ye not, me gents
Listen to these two true cents
Mand'rin's lemon aid
By pink pepper mencheth maid
Currant absolute
Puts her in a bad-boy suit
Guava's brush restraint
Aqua Brava flat to paint
Jasmine cut her hair
Freesia passing on a dare
Woods and musks remain
Freshly vouchin' what I'm say'n'
All together sly
Smelling great on crafty guy
Think me not Reptile
Sporting Bleu in stolen style
Catch me if you can
I'm the Stinky Turquoise Man.

Remember, remember, this fifth of November
Marc Jacobs' cologne named Bang
For it would be tragic
Were gunpowder magic
Forgotten, you know, the thang

So let me beseech thee, to scroll not completely
And listen a spell or two
This brief adoration
Will cause no inflation
Of pocketbook, pecker or pew

On word of good Ruggles, said bottle me juggles
Albeit a rare event
Sha'n't be from it parted
Though barely be started
Since pepper be heaven's scent

Of black, white and pinky, its peppers be stinky
But that's just where beauties start
For finer and finer
This woody designer
Drills down into pepper's heart

Sillage and projection, this pepp'ry selection
Performs like a fragrant champ
Though hella tenacious
On balance it's gracious
And bottle be flagrant camp

Now as for gunpowder, though pepper be louder
Good Bang's gotten for your buck
Both black type and smokeless
Betray any wokeness
By which this fine joke might suck

I must now admit, to one last little bit
By which all noses might not swear
It's linearama
There ain't no damn drama
For those who for such things care

So fire up your Cisco, and seek out this disco
If pepper's your passion, pal
This ain't Dot or Daisy
Or Lola's vulvazy
Bang ain't for the av'rage gal

Remember, remember, this fifth of November
Marc's gunpowd'ry, pepp'ry bling
O'er which some colognial
Raised glass ceremonial
To c'mon, you know, the King.

An enjoyable if reserved white floral, somewhat in the style of White Flowers, Royal Service, and Pure White Cologne. Thus, a cool, ethereal, and bright white floral mix, translucent if not transparent, with an interesting and restrained sweetness. Some kind of perfume amber, evoking sensations of cleanliness, warmth within coolness, and hazy clarity, as well as snowy color and texture, is wonderfully present, and sets the fragrance apart from the other Creeds mentioned. Performance is understated, and this is clearly intentional. There is some stylistic resemblance to Virgin Island Water, not only in terms of being excellent for both men and women, but also in a synaesthetic sense of white, clear, and silver hues. I personally find the fragrance more in line with rogalal’s and rbaker’s descriptions, than with Creed’s, although if one tried to envision the scent of literal white amber - an imaginary resin fossilized and formed into jewelry - it is unlikely that one could do better than this fragrance. Therefore, I think Creed has created a fantastic fragrance in White Amber, and I recommend sampling it at the very least.

What isles and seas lie
So perfectly imagined
Beyond l’ambre blanc?

On the night of Halloween

Coffee & Whiskey
Fortified our very souls
Perhaps brazenly

As we set out for
Experience beyond the
Mountains of Mugler.

Twixt Mounts Maltz and Joe
Pure as the driven maltol
We steered our old yet

Faithful fragmobile
Gleefully unaware of
Olfactive dangers

T'word the lands of the
Blue Smoke civilization
Lost back in time and

Beyond those mountains.
Our guide was an old woman
Of a Blue Stone tribe

Not unlike the one
Who made our silver compass
Which has kept us safe

From those star-headed
Mysterians mentioned by
Professor Lovecraft.

From our encampment
High in the altiplano
We departed for

Rumored ruins of
Ancient civilizations
But without our guide

Who refused to leave
Her seat by the coffee tent
While imploring me

To put on her ring
Depicting the Bear Spirit
That I might have strength

And she too some cash
Credit cards not accepted
My wife got one, too

Thusly protected
And filled with hot chocolate
(Sweet yet rich and dark)

We left in good cheer
Despite our guide's reluctance
To join in our quest.

The long, bumpy ride
Through valleys and high passes
Was hard on my friends

Who I then treated
To a taste of my famous
Medical coffee.

I am not afraid
To scandalously admit
That while my colleagues

Swear by its effects
It is in fact the odor
That is to say its

Pleasing aroma
Which secures such accolades
Since any actions

Are in fact merely
Those expected for caffeine
Spiked with ethanol.

The secret of my
Concoction extr'ordinaire
Lies in what are called

By my old colleague
Doctor Prefumistico
The "woody ambers"

Which he discovered
In the Antarctic ruins
And then perfected

Through government grants.
Let me cite this letter from
Prefumistico:

Inflations, like smaller forms of history, don't repeat, but they do rhyme.  Biological and cultural inflations are no exceptions.  Thus, what we call fragrance mattered to the Antarctic civilization, but not as it matters to us.  Where they found and why they valued hydroxycarbons of the ambergris type is uncertain, and the idea that they had cetiform creatures producing ambrein on their origin planets is only "rhyme-level" likely.

No matter why, it became apparent to those of us working in the ruins, that enclosed spaces smelled far too pleasant.  At first this oddity was attributed to chance, but soon enough we discovered increasingly powerful concentrations of the responsible substances.  Eventually, we found preserved cannisters of the mixtures under inert gases.  Analysis showed the same rhyme level as their proteins and nucleic acids.

Feeding these results back into public science, resulted in a boom in Western chemistry and perfumery, as desired.  Most scientists now consider these substances to be synthetic in nature, but for all we know at the moment, they were at one time somebody else's whale's excretions.  The tears over what is natural or synthetic become somewhat lost in the rain of increasing knowledge, I'm afraid.  Is Earth's agriculture, source of modern naturals, even natural?  Those seeking to ban it apparently don't think so.

Perhaps I am jaded by my work here, even if it feels like I am enlightened.  If so, please forgive these thoughts.

The accompanying package contains a mixture which is exemplary of the odor compositions that we found.  It is in fact the strongest of four related ones.  The odor bears an uncanny resemblance to coffee, whiskey, ambergris, and toasted pastries, yet is exactly like none of the above.  The power and persistence of the mixture is remarkable, and explanatory of why it remained in the ruins.  That this odor is addictive to humans is even more remarkable.

We have taken to seasoning our food and drink with this particular composition, creating a kind of whiskey from the laboratory ethanol we had previously drunk like vodka.  Likewise, our poor coffee is improved immensely by this substance.  Only the tiniest amount is necessary - you now possess a lifetime supply.

Take care, old friend.  Enjoy what you can, while you can.  The next verse is always coming.

And indeed it is
For that is the story of
Twenty-one kivas.

Here I sit in man's Twilight Dome
Surrounded by this Alt-Kenzo Homme
Woody and spicy to please the boys
Vetiver VOIPing its nature noise
Peppery populist party pal
Paling the pink of its partner gal
Minimal Musks come to save the day
As toasty dry vetiver burns away
Butane and isomer finish the chill
Leaving a note that's decidedly nil
Subtle substantial enigma spray
Lasting for years on my bathroom tray
Some blessing for kicking out CFCs
And casting more side-eye on HFCs
Lest HFC-152 should kill
One polar bear, seal or Antarctic krill
Too late, crazy world, whether wrong or right
You saved this good fragrance, and thus, Good Night!

In my dreams I found
This drugstore Dior Addict
And tried to bring her

Back to waking life
But she was already here
Waiting patiently

In my own future.
I did not trust the Dreaming
But it trusted me

To appreciate
At some later waking time
Her sly floral skank

Her likely story
Better yet scandalized by
Little musky lies

Warm and persistent
In some macrocyclic way
As if man's best friend

Kouros tanuki
Wandered by to share in her
Caramel latte

And left his famous
Perfumed calling card behind
His call of the wild

Echoing her own.
O, Amber, glowing Angel
Of the Neon Lights

Lady of The Strip
Mall Amber of Mall Ambers
Suffer this fool's gold

And more foolish praise
Until you hit the big time
You don't deserve this

Dog and pony show
This outback Perfume City
Nor the mayor's wife

Her Connoisseurness
Of Unstimulating Scents
Nor husband's prattle

O'er scents rarely worn
You deserve to signify
The Tarts of All Time

Young and penniless
Outcasts of the Ultasphere
Yet models thereof

Give them this fragrance
O Local Powers That Be
In memory of

Your faithful servants
Whose strange words for the Dreamtime
Still spoke Creation.

Welcome to the past
Your floral tea is ready
Sweet by Lessly Moor

Tommy's dear sister
She's a lovable girl, yet
Off in a good way

Not too much drama
The femininity of
Girl jeans on a girl

Waiting patiently
Credit where credit is due
For this compliment

On Groucho's night off
Let the healthy lady sing
Mom and apple pie

And though she aged well
She never got rock op'ra
Smiled as if she did

But who really knows?
There's something about the gal
Subtle tea's still life

Pleasant to a fault
That can hardly be mentioned
Without a faux pas

Let her go, admired
All aboard the puddle jump
To a job well done.

In the noise of the
Smells of the people of the
Big city on the

Other big island
On aqueous dilution
And time dilation

One may be tempted
To find relaxation of
Things microcosmic

When in fact it's the
Macroscopic, indeed, the
Bigger picture, the

Beauty of all things
Considered so to speak, that
Still seems to matter

Even as we are
Distracted in the spectrum
By peaks and valleys.

Be this skank eaude nought
Compared to where perfumer
Slyly dared to tell

A tale in eauder
Style, 'haps one been around a
While, oder by the

Name of Frost, odor
Of said eaude not to be lost
On odor eauder

Name of Red, Ody
Friend or so 'twas said, in those
Days of Coneheads yore

Back in time and well
Before said fragrant fan-fic
Frostly formed, on Red's

Skin to then be warmed
In eaude to mem'ries bitter
Sweet, life's unique nought

To repeat, falling
Earthward in our style, floral
Stories take a while.

*******

Last among me eaux
St. Clair, one called Frost I did
Not dare to think too

Deeply thus about
Fearful that this failing lout
Would fail to see the

Ode therein, failing
Somehow thus to win some ne'er
Be spoken perfume

Prize, one more prod of
Self by lies, but falling to
A friend's request in

Honey suckled search
For best by sync-assisted
Basenotes way, having

Sample thus to play
This to bring me back to Frost
Whence all fears were thence

All Lost, sensing then
The sweetness true and bringing
Words like shaken dew.

*****************

Loving wifely words
Upon, this scent she wished then
To be gone, were these

Old-fashioned, wood and
Whiskey - things that make old men
Feel frisky - feel it

Now the paradox
Of lives we live like hands of
Clocks, together as

We chart out time, while
Sweetly wasted youth begets
The more sublime, to

Sense in just one breath
Our lives and loves from birth to
Death, and if this smells

Like L'Homme of Yves still
Standing there, as lassies swooned
And praised the air, then

Bless these memories
I wish that yours, my friends, be
Frostly fresh as these.

This worthy flanker
Re-Essenzas Essenza
In a welcome way

A bit less citric
A bit more oceanic
A bit less shiny

Just a touch of salt
A deep breath on the shore with
No brimstone in sight.

Rosie Eau Donna
To Pineapple Invictus
Bore some resemblance

Thereby remaining
Roman, yellow and dreamy
Though rather less sweet

And penetrating
While still reminding me of
Amazing Donna

In the flanker-world
Conspiracy theory
Being her grand-mum

Thus recommended
To boys and girls alike in
Final irony.

Old school unisex
Distilled out of a thousand
Out-of-style perfumes

Leaves only the base
As perpetual dry-down
Of my memories.

Notes: Fascination,
Comfort, Nostalgia, Downtown,
She's wearing perfume,

Put on your good clothes,
Sniff the top of the bottle,
Company's coming.

Modern me smells musks
And some unlisted amber
Plus enough oakmoss

To fake a chypre
That vanished into magic
Empty bottle smiles.