Byrehoe

Why does cherry always have to be naughty? Debauched? Indecent? This cherry is upstanding. It’s clear, bright, poppy – a stock photo perfect maraschino. And clean, without feeling medicinal or hand-soapy. Every time I wear this scent a small part of me is transported back to the 90s, bubble bathing in L'Oréal Kids cherry almond shampoo (the one in the fish-shaped bottle). It’s more cherry than Lost Cherry, but lighter on the almond. And more cherry than Cherry Punk, minus the smoke and studded leather. The longest lasting of the three on my skin too, clocking 6+ hours.

Mental Snapshot: Red VW beetle, with plastic eyelashes on the headlights. A heart-shaped lollipop from your kindergarten valentine. Patent leather go-go boots and prescription wayfarers. Comic book word balloons. WOW! YUM! The belle of the boardroom, a c-suite party girl. Did Andy Warhol ever silkscreen a cherry?

tl;dr: pop art

Smelled it several years ago and it was like needles to my nostrils. I remember it being sharp, dry, almost pinch-nosed in its wearability. Like silver platter room service arriving to your suite and then refusing to serve you for answering the door in your bathrobe. Upon revisit, perhaps that was an unfair assessment. To my more cultured nose it’s a sparkling clean floral: fresh-cut violets, fresh-washed linens, and – despite it not being in the notes – fresh-plucked pears(?) I suppose that’s the blackberry-mandarin, which adds a welcome tang. Lasts a solid six hours, commendable for a such a spick-and-span kind of freshie. I don’t hate it. If I’m ever elected the first female president of a country club, I’ll buy a full bottle.

Mental Snapshot: You’re a marchioness inspecting a potential property. A professional cleaning crew must have just sterilized the place; the marble glistens like snow and the halls waft of lab-cultivated lilies. A “summer house” the agent bills it. “Summer house?” You ask. It’s very sweet and all… but for a whole season? “Darling, I have a house for each month.”

tl;dr: Gwyneth Paltrow cosplay

A coffeshop-jazzhouse kind of vibe. Or a Borders bookstore (RIP) café, set in a bustling mall. Coffee takes the lead, followed by kid leather and dry tobacco. A lipsticky orris smooths out the edges. This afternoon is lively, yet cosy. Heavy, yet wearable. I’m imagining a brown leather trench, snugly cinched and topped with a fluffy purple scarf. This fragrance is definitely in the same universe as Rhapsody in Mauve, maybe even the same city. I feel like I’d get more mileage of it if I lived somewhere that actually got cold weather. In the meantime, it pairs really well with The Devil Wears Prada and a White Russian.

Mental Snaphot: A 90s holiday romcom. City lights flicker though the snow flurries. Fade in: a bustling department store, in the “seasonal treats” section. A winsome gal in a chunky-knit jumper (protag) shops tins of candied nuts and spiced cakes. A smooth-talking salaryman (love interest #1) sidles by, nursing a coffee. Outside, a velvet-frocked doorman (love interest #2) nurses a cigarette. He winks. Title card: "PURPLE AFTERNOON"

tl;dr: java n’ jazz

A glamorous, summery shapeshifter. Hour 1: sugared citrus. Hours 2-4: “Baccarat d’Afrique.” Hours 5-12+: Bal d’Afrique. Not the near-identical twin I found with the Mojave Ghost Absolu, but definitely a sibling. The citrus, which was invisible to me in the OG, plays a far more dominant role here. The praline interlude is a new addition and conjures up wartime Baccarat Rouge flashbacks. Far more sugary and brassy than the boho-clean marigold shampoo of the original. Feels like the summertime foil to the wintry rose-cocoa of my beloved Soie Malaquais, in that near-gourmand vein. The longevity and sillage defy every Byredo stereotype (two sprays to a tester card was enough to make my car a BdA bubble for 3 days, so much that I could even smell it percolating from the trunk when loading groceries). I was easily clocking 12+h on skin. Would have sprung for a bottle if I didn’t get the amber syrup intercession, as the drydown is divine, but if you like your fragrances sweet and showy this would be a winner.

Mental Snapshot: Southern California. Summer night first date. Five-star tapas bar. Aperol Spritzes al fresco. Tango lessons in the park. Cruising down the coastline at sunset, “Soak Up the Sun” thumping from your sunburst-coloured Boxster.

tl;dr: summer nights, not-from-concentrate

Been on a long hunt for a vampiric rose and, fortunately, the reviews did not lie. This is gothic, heady, almost berried. Like petal-pulp steeping in a steel vial; at once both stoic and romantic. Sanguine in the metallic sense (like a clutch of ancient coins), not the charnel house/operating theatre sense. I haven’t caught this wafting on a stranger, but I imagine the effect must be disarming. It’s alluringly anachronistic. Not quite the rose of my bisnonna, but nothing about it rings trendy or modern. The scent of an elder vampiress. Was potent the first hour on my skin, but didn’t have the staying power others have enjoyed. Filed under “goth wedding” scents (along with Portrait of a Lady). A kiss is just a prelude to a bite, no?

Mental Snapshot: The call her the girl from Berlin. She wears a sable and black silk. Her slippery auburn hair is chiseled into a flapper’s bob. A few still call her the girl from Prussia. Fewer remember her as the girl from Germania. Nobody knows what they called her before that. She has the face of a porcelain doll, the eyes of a Siamese cat, and the smile of a Rottweiler.

tl;dr: vintage roseblood