(Read part I here. The short version: I ordered mini-versions of some scents online.)

Nejma One Aoud Vetiver Tabac: My preliminary association (and that of most other people who’ve smelled it) is of incense — not the Trails-style “no, Mom, we’re not smoking pot down here!” stuff, but specifically a kit of high-end incense by Nippon Kodo that my friend Sharyn bought me for my birthday one year. One of the sticks was aloeswood, and I liked it so much that I, being a hoarder by nature, used the other scents first, then tenaciously refused to burn the aloeswood (because then I’d be out, you see).On all my other fragrances I try not to do any Internet searching, because I think it’s really easy to be influenced by other people’s opinions or comments. (Oh, you never noticed violet before? Yes, now you definitely smell the violet.) But although I knew what vetiver and tabac (tobacco) were, I was at a loss for aouds — which, as it turns out, is the same thing as aloeswood. The scent is developed from a resin that develops only when the tree is under attack from a fungal — so it’s a fragrant defense.

This web site refers to six types of aoud, and my favorite description is: “Smells light and enticing, changing like the mood of a woman with bitter feelings. The fragrance is of good quality if it disappears quickly.” (Other varieties are described thusly: “Sour at the beginning and end … but with something distasteful and ill bred about it, like a peasant disguised as a noble.” And even the best is considered “a gentle and dignified smell with a touch of bitterness. The fragrance is like an aristocrat in its elegance and gracefulness.”)

There’s also a very powdery-sweet note to this — people who hate Angel for Men by Thierry Mugler would be wise to avoid this.

888: I remembered that this was supposed to capture the smell of gold. But here’s the thing: Have you ever actually handled a lot of coins? The last time I went home my parents presented me with silver dollars (yeah, I know, silver not gold — stick with me) that my grandfather had collected during the years he owned a movie theater in North Dakota — so many coins that I had to enlist the help of my friend Funny Michael to make it through the screeners, since I had incredibly heavy amounts of coins that I thought made me look like a smuggler.

I got them home, bought a coins book and began sorting them according to worth … by the end of the day, my hands had a distinctly funky, downmarket metallic scent that made me wonder what had rubbed off on them. In fact, I briefly considered soaking the coins in something disinfectant, or running them through the dishwasher or something. (Which you don’t do to coins, FYI. The book says so.)

Anyway, this is definitely not that scent. This is the scent of shiny and brand-new: You know in the movies when someone cracks open a vault to reveal stacks and stacks of gold bullion bricks gleaming and shining in that fantastic way, like heaven is shining spotlights on it? This is the olfactory equivalent of that one moment. I’m surprised the bottle doesn’t have a little soundtrack CD that plays choirs or something.

Unlike Nejma One, this is a very intimate fragrance: I can pick up the scent only when it’s within about 3 inches of my nose. (And have you seen my nose? It’s pretty discerning [which is a nice way to say "big"].)

Up next: The last set! Lotmarc’h Aod (do you suppose it’s connected to Aoud?), Gap Grass and Egon Oelkers E02.

ammit

WHAT SAM WORE: 3/16/08
The shirt: Uh, the same shirt I wore yesterday (ssshhh!)
The pants: Cotton track pants by Armani Exchange, (AX outlet, Palm Springs, Calif.)
The shoes: Gel Oberon sneakers by Asics (Sports Authority)
The scent: The aforementioned Nejma One (again, no bottle shot! I am into the mystery scents.)

sammit

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