Velvet

by Jay

So, Imma throw you all for a loop here. Ready? The first official post on Tipsy is about… perfume.

 

I developed a fascination with perfume while working at Chambers Street Wines in Manhattan. I’d always had an interest; some of my earliest memories are related to a scent my mother was wearing. I’m not sure whether working in wine was cause or effect. I’ve always had a strong scent-memory, so I can recall scents from years past. In fact, a whiff of jasmine tea, for example, can immediately transport me back to the first time I’d smelled it in Venezuela. This parlor trick comes in handy in the wonderful world of wine, of course. I can remember the first time I tasted a Chateauneuf or a Sancerre and I can detail the nose and flavor profiles.

 

Anyway, when The Wine Chicks was in effect, a customer and I wear discussing the similarities of wine and perfume reviews. It had never occurred to me, but she was absolutely right. She turned me on to Bois de Jasmin, a perfume blog with an impressively comprehensive amount of information.

 

Since then, I’ve tried to think about perfume the way I think about wine. Instead of a knee-jerk “like” or “don’t like”, I try to tease out the components and decide if it’s well-balanced or not. My favorites tend to be spicy, herbal scents, but I can appreciate floral and musky perfumes if the balance is there.

 

One of the most surprising new scents for me is Velvet Amber Blackberry by Victoria’s Secret. Here’s the thing: I have never been a fan of Vicky. Oh, maybe when I was 18, I was enamored with Rapture, but now that smells like a whorehouse in Paris. (Paris, Texas, y’all). So I was less-than-eager to allow the overzealous sales chick to tie a scent-drenched velvet ribbon around my wrist. Maybe it was the weekend? I was visiting NYC with a good friend and we were spending money like drunken sailors. Maybe it was lunch? Surely the two mimosas had something to do with it. Or maybe it was that I actually – shudder- liked the smell?

 

Lo these four months later, I still do. I have the lotion and I can’t wear it straight; like everything out of the House of Angels, subtlety is sorely lacking. I cut it with cocoa butter. (An aside: I use a disturbing amount of cocoa butter. I do hope Al Gore/Michael Moore doesn’t create a documentary about the detrimental effects of cocoa butter farming on the ice caps. Cause I ain’t changing. At least my skin will be supple as I swim through the tropical Buffalonian lakes.) But as I created my Amber-Butter elixir this morning, I reveled in the sweet, heady scent. Both the blackberry and amber are present, of course, but there are rich rose, white musk, and sandlewood notes as well. The juiciness of the blackberry brightens it to freshen the scent.

 

After swathing myself in Velvet, I felt rather like George Costanza: if it were socially acceptable, that’s all I’d ever wear. I was awash with images of femininity – red lipstick, décolletage, wild flirtations - you get the idea.

 

My reverie, however, was quickly shattered when I stepped into my husband’s car and was overcome by the stench of spilled Mexican food from the night before. Ah, yes. Reality. I missed you there for a minute.

Comments

[Johnny Lager]

Interestingly enough, I had some surprise manual labor to navigate today, and wished I had some Amber-Butter in my trusty Adventure Bag. I got over it. Time and Scotch heals all wounds.

[Jay]

Amber-Butter, Time-Scotch. Potayto, potahto. Why split hairs?

[Kels]

I'm also still really liking Velvet. I wear it often. And the funny thing is that I'm wearing it with cocoa butter too! You got me on the cocoa butter kick and I like it mixed with the scent of the perfume. I'm wondering now if I should try cocoa butter with all my other perfumes and see what the combo smells like.
BTW - I still laugh at the thought of your expression when that sales woman went to tie that perfume saturated velvet ribbon around your wrist. It was as if you were saying "WTF is that? Oh no you don't!" I didn't think you were going to let her put it on.

[Jay]

The aforementioned lunchtime imbibing prevented an outburst. She got lucky.