08/04/2023
Exciter76
77 Reviews
Exciter76
3
Lavender Vanilla Bean Caramel Chews On Steroids
Originally written on August 25, 2012:
I’m just throwing out an opinion but Lush’s Gorilla Perfumes have waffled between love and, more often than not, hippy head shop mediocrity. Add to the inconsistency of beloved items an overly aggressive staff who also waffle between love (of their product) and hippy head shop disinterest (of both products and customers). I find I have to be a wanton woman in love to brave the herbal assault of Karma in the hands of a bipolar sales associate, waiting for me to enter like a gargoyle at the door. Twilight had been sitting passively in my ‘to test’ list for several months. Now that I’ve tried it on a few occasions I would gladly brave the elements.
Hmm, a lavender and tonka bean blend that’s been referred to as ‘candy-like’? I expected Johnson & Johnson’s lavender-vanilla—a vanilla that has severed ties with all food association and lavender that is a vague caricature of itself. What Twilight presents instead is a lavender scent that has been elevated to foodie status. This is not a sleepytime baby lotion; rather, this is buttery caramel infused with a bourbon vanilla bean and lavender. Twilight is so uniquely delectable that food critic/local food folk legend Jonathan Gold would crave this. I live in a land of hipster foodie trucks and esoteric chefs-as-surrealist performing artists, serving up ubi milkshakes and “mOxtail” soups. Why did none of these chef superstars come up with a dessert as desirous as this?! This is sincerely one of the most unusually delicious scents I’ve yet sniffed. This is definitely going at the top of my long ‘want’ list.
Updated thoughts, August 3, 2023:
I'm noticing a pattern: I obsess over a sample or several, I figure out a way to make coveted perfume mine, and then I realize that maybe the perfume is not quite what I fell for—or, rather, it is what I fell for but I become a bit disillusioned. I don't know. Twilight Perfume was no exception to this irrational behavior of mine.
I know this will sound "sacrilegious" to those Twilight Perfume die-hards out there but I prefer the masculine edge of Blue Sugar to this. I wore Twilight Perfume a lot but found it just inspired a desire to wear Blue Sugar instead. Worse yet, I contracted the flu and wore Twilight Perfume before I realized I was ill. My precious and hard-to-find Twilight Perfume became vile to me in the course of a day. I was not able to wear it again and I sold my bottle on eBay.
Do I miss it? No, I have a scant amount of Blue Sugar to console me. Do I still feel it's a delicious concoction of caramel, vanilla beans, and lavender? Absolutely. If this combo sounds divine, it is because IT IS. That said, I discovered I prefer something green or uber-salty (maybe fougere?) to ground my caramel. Twilight Perfume's caramel is too unchecked for my taste.
I’m just throwing out an opinion but Lush’s Gorilla Perfumes have waffled between love and, more often than not, hippy head shop mediocrity. Add to the inconsistency of beloved items an overly aggressive staff who also waffle between love (of their product) and hippy head shop disinterest (of both products and customers). I find I have to be a wanton woman in love to brave the herbal assault of Karma in the hands of a bipolar sales associate, waiting for me to enter like a gargoyle at the door. Twilight had been sitting passively in my ‘to test’ list for several months. Now that I’ve tried it on a few occasions I would gladly brave the elements.
Hmm, a lavender and tonka bean blend that’s been referred to as ‘candy-like’? I expected Johnson & Johnson’s lavender-vanilla—a vanilla that has severed ties with all food association and lavender that is a vague caricature of itself. What Twilight presents instead is a lavender scent that has been elevated to foodie status. This is not a sleepytime baby lotion; rather, this is buttery caramel infused with a bourbon vanilla bean and lavender. Twilight is so uniquely delectable that food critic/local food folk legend Jonathan Gold would crave this. I live in a land of hipster foodie trucks and esoteric chefs-as-surrealist performing artists, serving up ubi milkshakes and “mOxtail” soups. Why did none of these chef superstars come up with a dessert as desirous as this?! This is sincerely one of the most unusually delicious scents I’ve yet sniffed. This is definitely going at the top of my long ‘want’ list.
Updated thoughts, August 3, 2023:
I'm noticing a pattern: I obsess over a sample or several, I figure out a way to make coveted perfume mine, and then I realize that maybe the perfume is not quite what I fell for—or, rather, it is what I fell for but I become a bit disillusioned. I don't know. Twilight Perfume was no exception to this irrational behavior of mine.
I know this will sound "sacrilegious" to those Twilight Perfume die-hards out there but I prefer the masculine edge of Blue Sugar to this. I wore Twilight Perfume a lot but found it just inspired a desire to wear Blue Sugar instead. Worse yet, I contracted the flu and wore Twilight Perfume before I realized I was ill. My precious and hard-to-find Twilight Perfume became vile to me in the course of a day. I was not able to wear it again and I sold my bottle on eBay.
Do I miss it? No, I have a scant amount of Blue Sugar to console me. Do I still feel it's a delicious concoction of caramel, vanilla beans, and lavender? Absolutely. If this combo sounds divine, it is because IT IS. That said, I discovered I prefer something green or uber-salty (maybe fougere?) to ground my caramel. Twilight Perfume's caramel is too unchecked for my taste.
