The Powdery Perfumes fairy alit on my shoulder last week, rustled her wings, and whispered in my ear, “Lorenzo Villoresi Alamut”. I stopped typing and looked up. Alamut? I remembered trying it sometime last fall. It was all right: warm, vaguely oriental, and powdery, but I wasn’t inspired to try it more than once. Surely I still had that vial somewhere?
I fished through my drawer of samples and came up with a 3 ml spray of Alamut and put some on right away. It was fabulous! Alamut felt like the olfactory equivalent of a down comforter with an amber silk velvet cover. It was elegant, beautifully blended, and inspired me to tidy up my hair and put on lipstick. I spent the rest of the afternoon with my forearm pressed against my nose. By noon the next day the vial of Alamut, plus another tiny sample I found of it, were gone and I was on a powder rampage.
I wanted powder perfumes that weren’t too sweet, but anchored by amber or wood. I remembered my decant of Kenzo Flower Oriental. Perfect! Not quite Alamut, but its blend of powder and incense was similar. I sprayed on at least twice as much as I ever had before. But wait! Here was my bottle of Caron Parfum Sacré. It has incense and powder, too! But as much as I adore Parfum Sacré it didn’t have quite enough powder and the pepper was too distracting for my mood. However, sitting right next to it was a big bottle of Molinard Habanita. When the Flower Oriental wore off, I Habanita-ed myself up and down.
“You smell like my grandma,” one of my friends said as we waited on our bicycles at a stoplight later that day. I told her that I’d been gorging myself on powdery scents and didn’t seem to be able to stop. (The “grandma” comment hardly offends me anymore, by the way.) “Do you have PMS?” she asked. “It sounds hormonal.” It was strange that I craved powdery scents now, just as the weather was heating up. I hadn’t been especially attracted to powder before. Give me leather, incense, the murky Caron base, a cloud of oakmoss any day, but not powder. Besides that, my usual hormonal cravings run more toward macaroni and cheese.
I’m not sure how long my powder binge will last. By the time this posts, the powder fairy may have flown off to the more fruitful haunts of the dressers of 12-years olds and the fancy apartments of elderly Parisian ladies. In the meantime, though, have any of you ever been suddenly seized by a type of scent that you never considered as “your” kind of perfume? What the heck is this all about? But more importantly for me at the moment, what do you think of the Eau de Parfum version of Alamut, and would you recommend it over the Eau de Toilette?