More Adventures at the Head Shop

It seems the Nag Champa and hemp jewelry vibe of Czech & Speake's No. 88 isn't limited to just their signature fragrance. After trying a few of the other samples from the package they sent me the other day, I've found the cloying cheap incense accord to be key in the composition of both Neroli and Frankincense & Myrrh, as well. While No. 88 is at least tolerable, though, these other two are disgusting - absolute scrubbers. The recipe for both Neroli and Frankincense & Myrrh - which I can barely tell apart - seems to be, "crack open a bottle of No. 88, squirt a stale bottle of personal lubricant into it until the mixture smells like toilet bowl cleaner, bottle it, add sexy marketing copy and serve!" Too bad. I love real incense smells (I'll get to Encens Flamboyant soon, Julie, I promise), and I think I like neroli, too. Sadly, neither of these colognes smell anything like their names, or Czech & Speake's ad copy, suggest.

Image note: More head shoppy fun.

Bvlgari Blv is a Schizophrenic Stinkbomb!

I realize I’m still a newb at this fragrance reviewing business, so my horizons are still a bit narrow, but Bvlgari Blv Pour Homme may well be the absolute worst thing I’ve ever smelled in my entire life. It’s worse than skunk, worse than burnt rubber, worse than shit … To be fair, it may rank just below a cocktail of all of those things in terms of repulsiveness.

Bvlgari Blv is just a complete trainwreck of a scent that is at turns loud and spicy, like an obnoxious open-shirted 70s guy, then soft and powdery, like a little old lady in a pink frilly dress. This scent is trying very hard to be something ... The trouble is, it can’t seem to decide what it's trying to be.

For reasons I can't quite put my finger on, this stuff leaves a picture in my head of two men having sex in the bathroom of a very loud, grossly trendy nightclub … And they’re not attractive men, either; they’re greasy, over-tanned men dressed like extras on Miami Vice.

Image note: Wearing Bvlgari Blv made me wish I owned a gasmask. I’m not sure what the origin of this picture is. I found it on someone’s Myspace page. It reminds me of the old Sandman comic - not Neil Gaiman’s Dream King, Morpheus, but Wesley Dodds, the gasmask-and-fedora-wearing hero from the Golden Age of comics. He used to put villains to sleep using a special gun filled with knock-out gas (thus the gasmask).

My Apologies to Azzaro

Hello, dear readers (all four of you).

I know I warned you all at the outset that I was likely to lose interest in this blog, but I don't suppose any of you thought I meant after only a few posts. Well, I haven't! I've had a monster cold for the last few weeks, which left any sniffing-type activiy more or less out of the question. I'm feeling a bit better now, and will soon be able to commence with the smellage.

I don't have a new review today, but I have a few lined up for the coming weeks. I just wanted to check in and say "hello." Also, a little housekeeping ... In my last post, I compared Azzaro Pour Homme to Old Spice and, while noting that the former was more subtle and pleasing than the latter, suggested that one might as well just save some money and buy the Old Spice.

Since then, I've had occasion to sample some Old Spice, which I haven't actually smelled in many years (since my dad stopped wearing it when I was in high school). And when I say "sample," I mean I covertly splashed some on at the local Rite Aid a few weeks ago. Shhh. Anyway, while the Old Spice was pleasant enough at first, it quickly turned bitter, excessively soapy (like Lava soapy), dank, and way too loud for my liking. After about an hour, I scrubbed it off.

So, I'm forced to rescind my previous pronouncement and admit that Azzaro Pour Homme is, by far, the nicer fragrance. It does project a similar character to Old Spice, but does so with much more restraint and charm.

Huh, now that that I think of it, I guess that was a new review, after all.

Image note: A schooner, like the one that Old Spice has used on its bottles for decades. I love schooners. Here in Maine, there are companies that will take you out for a schooner cruise along the coast, for an afternoon, overnight, or even a week. I never saw myself as a "cruise person," but my mouth has been watering at the prospect of taking one of these trips for the last several years.

Grey Flannel? More Like a Grey Flannel Dishcloth!

The first new scent I tried, on Julie’s recommendation, was Geoffery Beene’s Grey Flannel, and I HATED it.

I realize I’m trampling all over a sacred institution here. Grey Flannel is a classic … and supposedly one by which all other masculine fragrances should be judged. Luca Turin loves the stuff, giving it five stars in The Guide, and calling it “a masterpiece.”

Me? All I could smell when I first put it on was dishwashing liquid. Even a half an hour later, the smell of Dawn® pervaded, though now I could smell violets, too. Violet scented Dawn® … this is the great olfactory masterpiece of the last 40 years? Not in my book. I had to scrub this one off. Yech!

Image note: This dishwashing liquid isn't violet scented. The label says it's "original scent." I think it's been dyed pink for Breast Cancer Awareness (don't even get me started on the crassness of "pinkwashing"). To me, though, it looks more purple than pink ... like it could be violet scented.