perfumes for SoCal winter 2012

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(image taringa.net)

Sables. Butterscotch sawdust sweating under a raincoat. It’s cozy to you because you know what it is.  To everyone else it’s a pleasant, open question.

Nahema. Glam rock meets disco and comes out all the sparklier for it.

Mahora. Close your eyes and dream of Kauai.

Tasteful decor, tree trimming, eggnog, people posing in their best behavior? Fuck ’em. Wear Angel and dress like you’re horny.

L’Ombre Fauve.  Sweet sweat. It smells like you’ve got a forest underneath your coat.

Knize Sec. Tells the world that you’re composed even when you’re not.

Les Nereides Fleur de Musc Poudree. Don’t hide body odor enhance it.  Out, proud, comfortable with yourself.

Psychotrope. If you’re going to wear a fruity floral wear something like this. Forget syrupy and loose. This is a frenzied lollipop.

Equipage. Perfect for the town and country feel of Southern California winter.

Fracas. Come on, live a little.

Iris Bleu Gris. Don’t shy away from the chill, lean into it.

Baghari. Heady and sexier than any other perfume I can think of. Will make people want to reach up your shirt just to touch your skin.

 

Lonestar Memories. Wear it in the desert. It sears your nose just like the winter high desert air does.

Patou Joy.  Crystalline in the cold.  Frozen bouquet.

Cuir de Lancome & Versace Blonde. Winter is a great time to go against type. Try a  ladylike leather, or a rich, throaty florals.

Guerlain Coriolan. Holds warm and cold in the same hand.  Not many can do that.

Paco Rabanne La Nuit Scherrer de Scherrer.  Big, badassed, old-school chypres.  You can get away with more in winter.

Lancome Sagamore.  Usually wear a big, warm amber  in winter?  Try this. Chill on Frost.  Equipage’s refined, quiet sister.

Kiehl’s Original Musk blend No 1.  Armpits under layers of sweaters.

Atelier Cologne Rose Anonyme.  Eau de cologne on the rocks.

Patrick of Ireland.  Clean and manly.  I should hate this, but it’s so pretty.

Montale Black Musk. Smells like a cartoon evil snake.  Or makes me feel like I do, I suppose.

No. 19.  Cold hands, cold heart.

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