Eiderdown Press
Musings about Perfume and Life
Suzanne’s Perfume Journal
Click on Links to Previous Posts, below

A Conversation on Arabie

A Package from Christos: Greek Sandals & Oud Cuir d'Arabie

A Package from Ines

A Package from Lavanya

A More Affordable Olfactionary

A Week of Wearing What I Like

Amouage Dia (pour femme)

Amouage Dia (pour homme)

Amouage Epic Woman

Amouage Gold

Amouage Interlude Man

Amouage Jubilation 25 

Amouage Lyric Woman

Amouage Memoir Woman

Amouage Opus I

Amouage Opus III

Amouage Opus IV

Amouage Opus V

Amouage Opus VI

Amouage Tribute

Amouage Ubar

Annick Goutal Ambre Fetiche

Annick Goutal Encens Flamboyant

Annick Goutal Heure Exquise

Annick Goutal Petite Cherie

Annick Goutal Sables

Annick Goutal Vanille Charnelle

April Aromatics Calling All Angels

April Aromatics Bohemian Spice

April Aromatics Jasmina 

April Aromatics Nectar of Love

April Aromatics Rose L'Orange

Aroma M Geisha Green

Aroma M Geisha Rouge

Arquiste Anima Dulcis

Arquiste Boutonniere no. 7

At the Moment (Chanel 22 & Marshall Crenshaw)

At the Moment (Contemplating Change & Habit Rouge)

At the Moment (Marron Chic & Paris)

At the Moment (More Midsummer Delights/Epic/Geisha Noire)

At the Moment (Saki & Lubin Idole edt)

At the Moment (Secret de Suzanne /D'Orsay L'Intrigante)

At the Moment (Spring Pretties/Un Air de Samsara)

At the Moment (Summery Things...Love Coconut)

At the Moment (Vera Wang & Fireman's Fair novel)

Ava Luxe Café Noir

Beatnik Emptiness Incense

Best of 2009

Bond No. 9 Andy Warhol Silver Factory

Bond No. 9 Brooklyn

Bond No. 9 Little Italy

Bond No. 9 New Haarlem

Bottega Veneta eau de parfum

Breath of God

Byredo Green

By Kilian Amber Oud

By Kilian Forbidden Games and In the City of Sin

Calyx by Prescriptives

Canturi by Stefano Canturi

Capote, Truman & Evening in Paris

Carner Barcelona D600

Caron Aimez-Moi

Caron French Cancan

Caron Parfum Sacre

Caron Tabac Blond

Caron Tubereuse

Caron Yatagan

Cartier II L'Heure Convoitee

Cartier IV L'Heure Fougueuse

Chanel 31 Rue Cambon

Chanel Bel Respiro

Chanel Chance

Chanel Coco

Chanel Coromandel

Chanel Cuir de Russie

Chanel Egoiste

Chanel No. 5 (vintage)

Chanel No. 22

Chantecaille Petales

Chantilly Dusting Powder

Clive Christian C for Women

Comme des Garcons Daphne

Comme des Garcons LUXE Champaca

Comme des Garcons Series 7 Sweet Nomad Tea

Costes by Costes

Coty Ambre Antique

Coty Chypre

Coty Paris

Creature by Kerosene

Creed Acqua Fiorentina

Creed Fleurs de Bulgarie

Creed Virgin Island Water

DSH Perfumes Bancha Extreme

DSH Perfumes Quinacridone Violet 

DSH Perfumes Vert pour Madame


Devilscent Project

Dior Diorissimo (vintage)

Donna Karan Black Cashmere

EnVoyage Vents Ardents

EnVoyage Zelda

Estee Lauder Private Collection

Estee Lauder Private Collection Jasmine White Moss

Etat Libre d'Orange Rien, Rossy de Palma & Noel au Balcon

Faberge Woodhue Cologne

Favorite Fall Fragrances

Fendi Uomo

Fragrances for Sweden

Frapin 1697 Absolu Parfum

Frederic Malle Angeliques Sous La Pluie

Frederic Malle Bigarade Concentrée

Frederic Malle Carnal Flower

Frederic Malle Dans Tes Bras

Frederic Malle Geranium Pour Monsieur

Frederic Malle Iris Poudre

Frederic Malle Le Parfum de Therese

Frederic Malle Lipstick Rose

Frederic Malle Noir Epices

Frederic Malle Portrait of a Lady

Frederic Malle Une Fleur de Cassie

Frederic Malle Une Rose

Geoffrey Beene Grey Flannel

Ghosts of Perfumes Past, Present & Future

Gone Fishin'

Gucci Eau de Parfum

Gucci L'Arte di Gucci

Gucci Pour Homme

Guerlain Angelique Noire

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia

Guerlain Aroma Allegoria Exaltant

Guerlain Attrape Coeur

Guerlain Chamade

Guerlain Encens Mythique d'Orient

Guerlain Jicky

Guerlain Mayotte

Guerlain Parure

Guerlain Samsara Parfum

Guerlain Un Air de Samsara

Guerlain Vega

Guerlain Vetiver (vintage)

Guy Laroche J'ai Ose (vintage)

Happy Solstice

Hermes 24, Faubourg

Hermes Caleche (vintage)

Hermes Eau des Merveilles

Hermes Hiris

Hermes Iris Ukiyoe

Hermes Jour d'Hermes

Hermes L'Ambre des Merveilles

Histoires de Parfums 1740

Histoires de Parfums 1828

Histoires de Parfums Blanc Violette

Histoires de Parfums Vert Pivoine

Hometown Portrait, State College, PA

Honore des Pres Vamp a NY

House of Matriarch Carmine

How I Store Decants

Il Profumo Cannabis

In Memory (w/mention of Lanvin Arpege)

Jacomo #02

Jacomo #09 (Link to my review in Sniffapalooza Magazine)

Jean Desprez Bal a Versailles

Jean Patou Joy

Jean Patou 1000

Jo Malone Saffron Cologne Intense

Jo Malone Sweet Milk Cologne 

Juliet by Juliet Stewart

Kai Eau de Parfum

Kenzo Jungle l’Elephant

Kenzo Summer

Lancome Magie Noire (vintage) 

Lanvin Via Lanvin (vintage) 

L'Artisan Parfumeur Nuit de Tubereuse

L'Artisan Parfumeur Orchidee Blanche 

L’Artisan Parfumeur Passage d’Enfer

L'Artisan Parfumeur Seville a l'Aube

L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two

L’Artisan Parfumeur Traversee du Bosphore

La Via del Profumo Balsamo Della Mecca

La Via del Profumo Hindu Kush

La Via del Profumo Milano Caffe

La Via del Profumo Oud Caravan Project

La Via del Profumo Sharif

La Via del Profumo Tawaf

Le Labo Gaiac 10

Le Labo Iris 39

Le Labo Patchouli 24

Le Labo Poivre 23

Little Lists

Lorenzo Villoresi Yerbamate

M. Micallef Vanille Orient

Maison Francis Kurkdjian Absolue Pour le Soir

Maison Martin Margiela (untitled) eau de parfum

Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier Eau des Iles

Message In A Bottle 

Michael Storer Winter Star

Miller Harris L'Air de Rien


Missoni (original) by Missoni

Molinard Habanita

Mona Di Orio Nuit Noire

Mona Di Orio Oud

Mona Di Orio Vanille

Montale Black Aoud

Montale Boise Vanille

Montale Intense Tiare

Montale Patchouli Leaves

Montale Red Aoud

More Roses (rose cookie recipe)

My Heart Has Skipped a Beat (summer smells)

My Perfumes Have Theme Songs

Nasomatto China White

Neila Vermeire Creations Bombay Bling

Nina Ricci L'Air du Temps

Nez a Nez Ambre a Sade

Northern Exposure "A Dash of Chanel No. 5"

Odin 04 Petrana (Link to my review in Sniffapalooza Magazine)

Olivier Durbano Black Tourmaline

Omar Sharif Pour Femme

Oriscent Pure Oud Oils

Ormonde Jayne Frangipani

Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Woman

Oscar de la Renta Oscar for Men

O Tannenbaum Joint Blog Project

Parfum d'Empire Azemour

Parfum d'Empire Cuir Ottoman

Parfum d'Empire Equistrius

Parfum d'Empire Musc Tonkin

Parfum d'Empire 3 Fleurs

Parfumerie Generale Aomassai

Parfumerie Generale Bois de Copaiba

Parfumerie Generale Indochine

Parfumerie Generale Un Crime Exotique

Parfums de Nicolai Sacrebleu

Parfums DelRae Amoureuse

Parfums Karl Lagerfeld Sun Moon Stars

Parfums MDCI Chypre Palatin

Parfums Retro Grand Cuir

Paris, je t'aime

Pascal Morabito Or Black 

Perfume Quotes - The English Patient

Prada Infusion d'Iris Absolue

Pretty Perfume Bottles 

Prince Matchabelli Aviance Cologne (vintage) 

Profumum Roma Acqua Viva

Profumum Roma D'Ambrosia

Puredistance I

Puredistance Antonia

Puredistance BLACK

Puredistance M

Puredistance Opardu

Puredistance WHITE

Ramon Monegal Cherry Musk

Ramon Monegal Cuirelle

Ramon Monegal Pure Mariposa

Recipe for Socca

Regina Harris Amber Vanilla Perfume Oil

Regina Harris Frankincense-Myrrh-Rose Maroc Perfume Oil

Robert Piguet Fracas

Robert Piguet Visa

Rochas Mystere 

Rome Vacation Photos

Sammarco Perfumes Bond-T

San Francisco Holiday

Sarah Horowitz Parfums' Joy Comes From Within & Beauty Comes From Within

Scented Reading

Scents of the Mediterranean

Scentuous Reading: One Hundred Years of Solitude

Serge Lutens Arabie

Serge Lutens Borneo 1834

Serge Lutens Boxeuses

Serge Lutens Chêne

Serge Lutens Chergui

Serge Lutens Fille en Aiguilles

Serge Lutens Five O’Clock Au Gingembre

Serge Lutens Fumerie Turque

Serge Lutens Miel de Bois

Serge Lutens Muscs Koublai Khan

Serge Lutens Tubereuse Criminelle

Serge Lutens Un Lys

Serge Lutens Vetiver Oriental

Slumberhouse Rume

Smell Bent Florist's Fridge

Snow Days

Sonoma Scent Studio Incense Pure

Sonoma Scent Studio Jour Ensoleille

Sonoma Scent Studio Voile de Violette

Sonoma Scent Studio Winter Woods (brief mention)

SoOud Ouris Parfum Nectar

S-Perfume 100% Love {More}

Stone Harbor, NJ Vacaton pix (non-perfume related)

Strange Invisible Perfumes Lyric Rain

Sweden Is For Lovers

Swiss Arabian Nouf

T is for Taxes

Tauer Perfumes: Incense Extrême, Incense Rosé, Lonestar Memories, & Reverie au Jardin

Tauer Perfumes Vetiver Dance

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay

The Bechdel Test

The Diary of a Nose, Book Review

The Different Company Jasmin de Nuit

The Intimacy of Scent

Thoughts of a Perfume Collector


Tokyo Milk Ex Libris

Unlocking an Unknown: Webber Parfum 6T

Velvet & Sweet Pea's Purrfumery Bed of Roses

Venimus Vidimus Vicimus, or How 3 Perfume Bloggers and a Husband Took Rome

Vero Profumo Kiki, Onda, and Rubj

Vero Profumo Mito

Viktoria Minya Eau de Hongrie

Viktoria Minya Hedonist

Viktor & Rolfe Flowerbomb

What I’m Lovin’ Now

Xerjoff Mamluk

YOSH Perfumes Ginger Ciao

Yves Saint Laurent Nu


Sex Panther by Odion: "Sixty Percent of the Time it Works Everytime..."

...which is apparently the same percentage of time that the 2004, Will Ferrell comedy, Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy, works on me. Even though it runs with great frequency these days on cable TV, everytime I'm flipping through the stations and chance upon it, I can never seem to click away. It's my kind of goofy! Especially the scene where Paul Rudd breaks out his perfume collection, when he thinks he's got a shot at getting into the pants of newly-arrived newswoman Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate). I was hoping I could find a YouTube clip of it that has the scene in its entirety, because the fragrance he chooses, Sex Panther by Odion, turns out to be a real "scrubber"—so stink-ass bad that he actually ends up getting hosed down by a couple of TV crewmen outside the station. But there's only one clip on YouTube, and though it's not in sharp focus and is only an abbreviated part of the scene, I thought I'd put it up anyway. Enjoy!

In a few days, I'll be back with a post of the vintage Guy LaRoche perfume J'ai Osé—received in a swap package from blogger JoanElaine, who calls it a "sexy little number," and she's right. It's a doll-face, glamorous kind of sexy, and I'd like to spend a day or two more with it so that I can do it justice. Hopefully, without going overboard and writing something embarrassing that puts me in the same league with Ron Burgundy—which (yes, I know!) I've done before. On more than one occasion. And without Ron's smooth-talking television voice and, umm, charm.

Credits: clip from Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy uploaded to YouTube.com by kbthrilla15.

Posted by Suzanne Keller, 4/5/2011.


“I can smell your perfume,” my husband said to me in a quiet voice, in a briefly quiet moment, as we passed each other in the flooded basement of our house this past Monday. A midwinter thaw had ended in a torrential rain that arrived under cover of night, surprising us. We spent the morning outside in it, wrestling with long pieces of corrugated plastic pipe in an effort to direct the rain away from our waterlogged foundation. After that we’d gone to the hardware store to purchase a wet-dry vac, which, by this time in the late afternoon, we had assembled and were exercising to the full limits of its horsepower.

“I can smell yours, too,” I said, managing a tentative smile. The only happy arrival on Monday was the morning mail, containing two packages of perfumes; before we tackled the basement, I’d taken a moment to rip open the packages and anoint the both of us with a spritz. He was wearing Sonoma Scent Studio’s Tabac Aurea; I was in L’Arte di Gucci. We smelled like movie stars though we looked as bedraggled as a wet cat—not to mention we’d been acting like one, too.

Prior to this moment, in which we spoke the kindest words we’d said all day, we’d had the day’s big argument. On the basement floor, next to our rarely-used woodstove, was a pile of old firewood he had brought into the house two winters ago, and which the basement’s humidity had reduced to a pile of pulpy logs with decaying bark and mossy crumbles. After vacuuming up as much water around it as I could, I began sopping up the floating bits of lichen and wood chips with paper towels. When he saw me doing this, he peevishly protested: “No paper towels! I don’t want all those paper towels ending up in the landfill.”  “Would you rather the new wet-vac end up in the landfill,” I asked him, “when it chokes on all of this debris?”  He replied by grabbing a sponge-mop and bucket and painstakingly soaking up the watery pulp. When he suggested I take over with the mop, I ran upstairs for more paper towels.  This kind of back-and-forth went on for two or three hours, sandwiched between pissed-off glares and the not-so-silent silent treatment under the roar of the wet-vac.

But then came this moment when he said “I can smell your perfume,” and I knew the worst of our day was behind us.  There was a sweetness to this sentiment that, though perhaps not evident in the retelling of it, was palpable, and what I would savor later, recognizing it as the deceptively small hinge on which our relationship keeps turning.

*  * *

Like most people, I associate perfume with glamour and beauty, but much of the time life is decidedly unglamorous: it is full of challenges, some of them mind-numbingly pedestrian, and others, downright messy and sad. When all that exists before me are endless hours of drudgery, being able to catch a whiff of beautiful perfume on my wrists is what keeps me going. Standing in my flooded basement this week, I realized that perfume is one of the few luxuries you can take with you into places where some kind of solace or beauty is sought, and where not much else exists to support such comforts. It’s invisible and weightless, while being fully present; it’s somewhat discreet and secretive (depending on how much you wear), yet immediately accessible. It’s a spirit, really—and yes, I mean that in the supernatural sense of the word—which is why, for me, it connects to my own spirit more powerfully than any other art form.

This realization was driven home in a profoundly moving way later in my week. By this time, the basement was cleaned up, the flood forgotten, and daily life was moving forward again. The weather too had returned to normal, throwing us back into the deep freeze. On Thursday afternoon, a woman emailed me to purchase a decant of Serge Lutens Un Lys. After filling her order and letting her know it was sent, I received a note back from her that evening. “Thank you,” read her spare and elegant reply. “This is so unrelated, but my young son just died and I wanted the lilies to remind me of him.”

It’s the kind of confidence that stops you in your tracks—that affects me even now and makes me question whether I should include this in my journal. It’s the kind of confidence that connects you to another human being—even to someone you don’t know—at the deepest level possible.

I wrote a note back to this lovely woman, and then I went upstairs and put on a spray of Un Lys, inhaling its pure beauty. It smelled as tender as robin’s egg blue, as brilliant as sunlight, as fragile as a heart, and as eternally sweet as the love between a mother and a child. “I can smell your perfume,” I wanted to tell her. “And through you, his,” I wanted to say.

And though I have no idea whether she reads here, I am hoping she does so that I can tell her what my paltry words failed to say in my email. Not that these long-about words are much better, but dearest R, if you are reading here, please know this: I can smell your perfume. It’s on my wrists and encircling my heart, and it’s more exquisite than words can say.

Posted by Suzanne Keller, 1/31/2010.



It was late May, housecleaning season, when Roger fell in love with a woman at the dump. He never saw her. He just liked the way she threw things away. Sometimes she left clothes draped gracefully across a corner of the Dumpster—a nicely laundered shirt, its long sleeves tucked up away from a rusty patch, or a pair of blue jeans folded across slightly worn knees. Sometimes she put things off to the side, arranged in orderly rows in the grassy ditch at the edge of the woods—a white plastic fan, a ceramic container of wooden spoons, a clip-on bedside light, and a whole hummingbird cake wrapped in several layers of plastic wrap and aluminum foil, set up on a stump. She left notes on some items.

            “This fan works, but it makes a clicking sound and will not oscillate.”

            “I can’t eat this whole hummingbird cake.”

            And Roger’s favorite, taped to a Hamilton Beach fourteen-speed blender: “Works good.”

            He admired the style of the notes, the generous margins, the almost childish legibility, the careful use of punctuation, and the casual and almost intimate “good” instead of the grammatical but pretentious “well.” He was intrigued by the skewed logic in some of the notes, where her mind seemed to go skittering away from reason and fact, in a direction he could almost follow, but not quite:

            “If you are tall, maybe this light won’t shine in your eyes.”

            “I’m intrigued,” he said to Hilma and Meade, who both seemed horrified. “How many people do you know who can spell ‘oscillate’?” he asked. “I admire good spellers.”

            “O-s-c-i-double l-a-t-e,” snapped Meade.

            “But, Roger,” said Hilma sensibly, “she could be a racist or a thief. She could be cruel to animals. You can’t draw conclusions about a person based on nothing more than a fourteen-speed blender and a white plastic fan.”

            “No,” said Roger, “of course not.” But still he made a point of stopping by the Dumpster every time he went to Attapulgus ... just checking. She threw away a radio/tape player: “Squawking in left speaker will stop if you tap the volume knob.” She threw away two plastic chairs.

            The absence of things can give a kind of shape to a space, and using his collection of negatives, Roger imagined the inside of her house, silent, light, and spare, without a cheap white fan clicking but not oscillating, without the high scream of an electric blender on Whip, without the ridiculous excess of a hummingbird cake. He imagined her in the house, padding silently from room to room on big bare feet, looking for things to throw away.


As mentioned in a recent post, I love Bailey White’s novel, Quite a Year for Plums, from which the above excerpt was taken. It’s a wonderful novel for scentophiles, as White draws upon the olfactory senses in many of her descriptions, but the reason I trotted out the above excerpt (which obviously has nothing to do with scent) is that it’s time for me to throw something away—sort of. A small bottle of Knize Ten toilet water (or in other words, eau de toilette). It literally hasn’t seen the light of day since July 2007, when I bought it from BeautyEncounter.com. If I were to put a note on this fragrance and carefully set it out on the dump, like the character above, my note would say, “I can’t wear rubber and leather both, sorry.”


(Or, as one Basenotes reviewer stated: “There’s something petroleum-like in the drydown that I simply can’t stand.”  Amen, brother.)


Since I don’t live near a dump (thankfully) and would rather pass it on to someone who can appreciate it, I’ve decided to do a giveaway. If you’re interested and live in the United States, please drop me an email to suz@eiderdownpress.com by midnight, EST, on Sunday, August 16th, at which point I’ll do a drawing for this one-ounce (30 ml) bottle, pictured below.  This drawing has ended; the winner was Sabina.  Thanks to all who entered!


By the way, I won’t use your email for any purpose other than the drawing. And, of course, the bottle will be shipped to you free of charge.


Oh, and in case you were wondering, the fragrance notes in Knize Ten include…

            Top: bergamot, lemon, orange, petitgrain, rosemary

            Middle: geranium, cedarwood, rose, orris, carnation, cinnamon, sandalwood

            Base: leather, musk, moss, amber, castoreum and vanilla

Quite a Year for Plums, copyright © 1998 by Bailey White (Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., New York, 1998, pp. 26-28)

Posted by Suzanne Keller, 8/12/2009.

“A perfume is alive: you can place it.  It’s a succession of harmonies that come together—that’s what a perfume is.  But even when you’ve placed it in harmony, it can move.  It’s never set.  And because it’s not set, it takes you along paths you don’t know.  You can have an idea of what you’re going to do…I can be working on a rose fragrance, it starts as a rose, but where is the rose actually going to take me?  That I don’t know.”


                        --Serge Lutens, talking about perfume in a video interview with France 24


I’m still working on a perfume review for this week. Until then, I thought you might enjoy seeing a video interview that France 24 did last year with Serge Lutens, titled, “Serge Lutens, scents of Morocco.”  The link to the video is here.

Also, if you happen to live in the northeast United States, this week you might want to indulge your senses by taking a walk along country roads where the milkweed plants (Asclepias syriaca) are currently in bloom. On a humid summer evening, the milkweed’s blooms are extremely fragrant, smelling like a blend of lilac and lily, with a faint whisper of muskiness. The scent is less intense in the daytime; it won’t fill the air, but if you press your nose to the bloom, you will definitely smell its sweet aroma.  (Please don’t pick the blossoms, though, as milkweed is essential to the life of the Monarch butterfly—which both feeds and lays its eggs on the plant—as well as several other insects.)

Images: photo of Milkweed is my own; photo of Serge Lutens is one I found on a new-to-me perfume blog, xxentx.blogspot.com, but I'm not sure where the photo originated.

Posted by Suzanne Keller, 7/21/2009.


In case you’d been wondering if I dropped off the face of the Earth, I wanted to let you know I’m still here, but May and June have been extremely busy with family doings—the most recent being a visit from family members in Florida and California, who came up to attend the high school graduation of my niece, Megan.


As you can probably tell by this photo, Megan is one of the lights of my life…the child I never had. She’s a charming young woman and a complex individual: a faculty scholar with a sweet laugh; a mean-throwing varsity softball pitcher who led her team to back-to-back district championships; a tiny little bundle of muscle who rides dirt bikes and raises goats, dairy and beef cattle on her family farm; and, at the end of the day, a girl who “cleans up nice” as they say here in the boonies of Pennsylvania. For all of her mental and physical toughness, she is a girly-girl at heart—a lover of finger nail polish, makeup, and—the only fragrance she has ever asked me for—Frederic Malle Carnal Flower.


There is something about a graduation ceremony that is especially poignant, as it makes you acutely aware that life is a journey, a spiraling path that we all travel together, but at the same time, separately, because we are all at different places on the path. Because it is full of stops and starts—and places to rest along the way—we are occasionally able to meet up with each other, or to cast a backwards glance at our fellow travelers and say, “I passed that way before: it’s an uphill trudge, but you’ll make it!” (Or, conversely, to offer an “enjoy the ride” affirmation and encouragement. As my stepdad said to Megan, who is scheduled to attend college this fall, “You’re about to enter four years of fun!”) Watching her reach this most recent plateau on life’s journey made me feel more connected to the world. It reminded me that, at the same moment she was graduating, elsewhere on the planet someone was being born and someone else was dying; someone was getting married and someone else was starting over; someone was beginning a new career and someone else was retiring—and on and on and on.


So anyway, that’s what I’ve been up to, and now that my family is departing from their visit here, I’ll try to focus on writing an actual perfume post this week. Until then, thanks for stopping by!

Image of me putting a bear-hug on Megan was taken by my sister. (Thanks, Barb!)

Posted by Suzanne Keller, 6/16/2009.

All I Am - A Redhead

A Perfume Blog (Blacknall Allen)

Another Perfume Blog (Natalie)

Ars Aromatica

Australian Perfume Junkies

Beauty on the Outside

Bloody Frida

Bois de Jasmin

Bonkers About Perfume

Ca Fleure Bon

ChickenFreak's Obsessions


Eyeliner on a Cat

Fragrance Bouquet

From Top to Bottom - Perfume Patter

Giovanni Sammarco (artisanal perfumer) blog

Grain de Musc

I Smell Therefore I Am


Katie Puckrik Smells

L'eter - Blog of Olfactive Experience

Memory of Scent

Muse in Wooden Shoes 

Nathan Branch

Natural Perfumery by Salaam

Notes on Shoes, Cake & Perfume

Notes From Josephine

Notes From the Ledge

Now Smell This

Oh, True Apothecary! 


Olfactoria's Travels 

Parfumistans blogg


Perfume Posse

Perfume Shrine

Perfume-Smellin' Things

Purple Paper Planes

Redolent of Spices

Riktig Parfym: Ramblings of a Fragrant Fanatic

Scented Salamander

Scents of Place

Scents of Self

Smelly Blog

Sorcery of Scent 

Sweet Diva

The Alembicated Genie 

The Cow Jumped Over the Moon

The Fragrant Man

The French Exit

The Non-Blonde 

The Perfumed Maze

The Perfume Magpie

The Scented Hound

The Sounds of Scent

The Vintage Perfume Vault

This Blog Really Stinks 

Undina's Looking Glass 

WAFT by Carol 

Yesterday's Perfume

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