Scentiments (3.20.24)

Sweet sentiments on this week’s scents.

I’m writing this from the plane, nearly halfway to L.A. after a week in Jersey—my second trip back to the East Coast in less than a month. In my twenties, stints like this would’ve been less taxing (glamorous, even, to be a Bustling Bicoastal Creative: BBC™!) but now in winter, the reality of toting an ankle-length coat and multiple pairs of boots means quick trips tend to be more hassle than hustle.

Since my last entry, my perfume collection has grown threefold. And yet, I’ve been committed to the same few scents when I’m not in a testing phase. There are two, specifically. Each stands on its own but when layered together, the pair becomes my most complimented fragrance yet. The duo’s projection is fabulous, the longevity impressive—and the effect, delicious. Everyone loves a gourmand, of course, but this is the kind that I’ve been waiting for, with bated breath.

L’Orchestre Parfum Piano Santal

I’ve had this lactonic sandalwood for some time and consider it as much a signature as it is a scent I turn to for comfort. I wear this when I don’t know how to perfume my mood—there’s some level of decision fatigue when your collection is over a hundred deep, even if you know each bottle inside out—and without fail, Piano Santal diffuses and effuses just right. It’s intimate, not shy—quiet, cocooning, centering.

Profumum Roma Gioiosa

Profumum Roma Gioiosa was not a planned purchase—and I’ve never been happier with an impulse buy a gut-instict buy. I was at Scent Bar hoping the boutique might have a bottle of the oft-sold-out Giardini di Toscana Bianco Latte. (To gift a friend, I should specify. Even in all its virality, I felt zero urge to own this; a photorealistic vanilla-caramel, however crackling and satisfying atop a creme brûlée, isn’t a note that speaks to my personal sensibilities.) They didn’t of course, and wouldn’t for months, but this—the sales associate grabbed a bottle and spritzed a strip for me—reminded her colleague of Bianco Latte.

Only it was better.

As someone already a fan of Profumum Roma, I had no doubt. There’s a shared olfactive story between this and Bianco Latte, but Gioiosa? You can immediately smell the difference in quality and execution and more importantly, it develops with the same consistency (an unsurprising feat given the line’s reputation for exceptional craftsmanship). Gioiosa is complex, and not edible. Decadent, never cloying. It’s hot cinnamon and dulce de leche (though neither caloric nor sticky)—but inspired by one made in a home kitchen on a Sunday afternoon following your father’s recipe. The warmth makes all the difference—a comforting, cashmere effect that makes it sit so beautifully on skin, not like you’ve doused yourself in perfume for the sake of smelling delicious. You simply are one to be craved, enveloped by the aromas and heat in an intimate kitchen, oven on and waiting for your dessert to finish.

Just one spritz spread across pulse points is enough to waft and linger for an entire day. Then, a light mist of Piano Santal to temper the sweetness while bringing out its lactonic, creamy facets.

Divine, really.

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xx