Because we have been thinking: “What can make us smell like a cupcake?”

What Narciso Rodriguez says: “ The custom grown (and über rare) TOM FORD BLACK ORCHID is the show-stopping note in this incredibly luxurious scent. While sultry woods and rich fruit accords help to bring out the skin’s natural perfume, the jet-black, art-deco inspired bottle adds to the fragrances overall glamour.”

What we say: At first we couldn’t smell this at all—like, at all at all, like 20 seconds later we could not detect any hint of fragrance on our skin—except, bizarrely, for the apparently permanent coconut Body Shop body butter. So we just doused ourselves in it—like, a million sprays, the way you might the first time you ever wear perfume. Then we could smell it. (We blame the heat for this, not perfume, in that the heat has destroyed our ability to sense anything except butter, oddly.) At that point, we decided that it didn’t smell luxurious—it just smelled sweet. “Do [we] smell like a cupcake?” we said, when we met our friend for lunch. We did. Nothing about it was appealing, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wondering if we should walk to Fort Greene for red velvet cake.

The packaging: Ridiculous. And strangely cheap in person, though it almost looks expensive from this image.

The smell: They say: “Bergamot, Citrus, Mandarin, Black Gardenia, Jasmine, Ylang-Ylang, Lotus Wood, Orchid, Spicy Floral Accord, Orchid (Tom Ford Black Accord), Patchouli.” Or … cupcakes!

Our grade: D. Not for us.

Because we have been thinking: “Narciso Rodriguez … we like him, right?”

What Narciso Rodriguez says: “Musc is at the heart of For Her Eau de Parfum. The fragrant harmony of the musc expressed itself through three pulsations; pink floral, soft amber, and voluptuous woods. It develops gently, slowly rounding out into the warm tones, dusted in a soft, velvety sensuality.”

What we say: Maybe we’re just not high class enough to dig the subtlety, but this made no impact on us whatsoever—and it was gone, completely absent from our skin, within a practically shocking 20 minutes.

The packaging: Love it, love it, love it. We do like the black eau de toilette even more.

The smell: They say: “a rare weave of pink floral with hints of rose and peach pulp as well as soft amber and wood in pastel tones.” But honestly, it smelled like flowers, and then it smelled like nothing. We especially don’t understand all the references to Egypt—we haven’t been there, but we bet it smelled like something … unlike this perfume.

Our grade: C-, and that’s just because we like the pretty bottle.

So we just spent 25 minutes looking for this Celine perfume we noticed for the first time in South Africa. We asked for it at this store that looked sort of like Sephora, and the saleswoman brought us to a not-Celine perfume. “But that says ‘Bulgari,’” we said, in this ridiculous, petulant, put-upon voice we are still embarrassed by, three weeks later. (“I thought you said ‘Crystalline,’” the woman said. She was about twice as nice about it as we deserved.)

Anyway, we looked for it again tonight, and found, instead of lovely French Celine, like a million iterations of fairly aggravating Canadian Celine Dion perfume, and then finally, after three weeks of not being able to find it, we were like … er, Chloe. We meant Chloe. This, we are realizing, is how more or less all of our stories go: interest, followed by irritated confusion, followed by guilt, followed by the realization that we are idiots.

Back to the perfume, and our much-treasured perfume review form!

Because we have been thinking: “What we really want is perfume with a bow on the bottle.”

What Chloe says: “Chloe’s newly unveiled signature scent captures the creative, confident individuality of the Chloe woman.” Especially the ones that can keep Chloe separate from Celine. And both of them separate from Celine Dion.

What we say: For all that aggravation, this is our new favorite perfume. Usually we like quite obvious and sunny perfumes—we’re thinking of you, Marc Jacobs Lemon Splash.

The packaging: We’re not feeling that bow.

The smell: “The airy, flirtatious head notes drift away to reveal the richer and more sensual side of the rose, derived from the velvety interior of the flower. The distinctive character of this unique rose is accompanied by heady magnolia and lily of the valley, as well as subtle intimations of warm amber and elegant cedarwood.” Honestly, all that makes us tired. We think it smells nice. It smells … like the perfume version of a country house. (Er, we’re thinking that’s where the cedarwood comes in.) We can’t help it. We love it.

Our grade: An enthusiastic A!

Chloe eau de parfum, $85

Prada Infusion d'Iris

Sephora says: "Tradition and innovation fuse into a dreamlike ideal in Prada's Infusion D'Iris, the new fragrance for the modern woman. Prada's exceptional quality ingredients evoke the classic ambiance of a luxurious Italian voyage, from the clean freshness of Florentine Iris Padilla to the warm, subtle glow of Sicilian Mandarin. "

We say: We have little idea what any of that means. The classic ambiance of a luxurious Italian voyage? Really, Prada? Not really. We hate it when they go so OTT with the descriptions. Because: It smells so lovely! Like spring. Like spring aboard the maiden voyage of a classic Italian sailing vessel. Or a ferry. Or, perhaps, a rowboat. It smells the same under any of these circumstances, unless the rowboat was somewhere unappealing. Like the Gowanus Canal. (Which, mark our words, is going to be New York's most expensive real estate in 25 years.) Anyhoo: We find it very difficult to describe a fragrance in more specific words than these: We will totally buy this and wear it all the time.

Prada Infusion d'Iris, $56

So apparently our fellow Brooklyn citizens were annoyed about Bond No 9's graffiti-covered Brooklyn bottle:

We're actually not sure if we're more baffled by the graffiti or the price point ($220!) So anyway: Bond No 9 is now sponsoring a contest to redesign the bottle design (ergo, the blank one above.)

Here are the rules, straight from Bond No. 9:

In today's Reader Mail:

Dear BS,
I hope you will indulge me, as I'm making a survey. Can you have people report on the perfumes they own? I'm looking for a new one.
Love,
R.

Indeed! We recently found at least a temporary signature scent. If you can share a signature scent with the other 20 million people who bought the exact same one. (There's just no pride in the enterprise, we think.) We've always been a bit meh on fragrance: It failed to register as a daily necessity. But then we were working at Nylon in December, and one of the editors who sat next to us smelled absolutely divine every single morning. And we were just like: What a nice thing! Like bringing cupcakes into the office! And so, our own search began.

It ended with Coco Chanel, above. We were desperate. We like it. We don't love it. We usually go for more, er, narrative ones, like this CB I Hate Perfume. Something told us it was time for something slightly more perfume-y. Coco eau de toilette, $65

Above: CB I Hate Perfume to see a flower, $60

What else is everyone wearing? And who has ideas for making it last longer than five minutes?

In today’s Reader Mail:

So I also would love to smell good all the time, but I’ve been thinking that maybe some sort of lotion or conditioner would work better, and I’d be more likely to actually use it. Your thoughts? Do you know a wonderful-smelling lotion or shampoo of some sort that might fit the bill? Does the scent fade more quickly? I’ve been eyeballing some of the Fresh products, but I’ve never actually tried them.

This was in response to our A+ review, last week, of Chanel Chance eau de fraiche. This may be the first reader mail question in a week we’ve had an answer to, and it is: Kiehl’s musk body lotion. Our only complaint is that we can’t get it to last for long at all, which is incredibly annoying. Does anyone have a suggestion for one that does have staying power?

Above: Kiehl’s musk body lotion, $19.50

Because we have been thinking: "Smelling nice is good!"

Today’s Perfume: Chanel Chance Eau Fraiche, $82

What Sephora says: "Chance Eau Fraîche, the newest incarnation of the unexpected fragrance, now takes on a sparkling freshness. The unexpected floral bursts with a lightness and zest as notes of citrus, Water Hyacinth and Jasmine Absolute are highlighted and energized with woody notes of Amber of Patchouli and Fresh Vetiver."

The packaging: Tres adorable! Totally classic Chanel but we actually like the green, Palmolive-y tone for the eau fraiche. And we could look at that iconic Chanel logo all day long. A+

The smell: We had been complaining about Marc Jacob’s Daisy lately—how it’s all young and light, or at least marketed that way, but we find it totally annoying and cloying and an aggravating attempt at getting 14-year-olds to spend $60 on fragrance. This, we feel, tries to do all those same things but totally succeeds: It just says light and fresh and new. We still don’t feel mature enough to pull off No. 5, but we can totally get behind this. A day scent, for sure, but perfect for that.   

Our grade: A

Because we have been thinking: "Smelling nice is good!"

Today’s Perfume: Marc Jacobs Daisy, $55 and up

What Sephora says: "Enter the world of Daisy: fresh and feminine, with a playful innocence. At the heart of Daisy is a floral with vintage edge: violet. Sophisticated, with a touch of whimsy, violet captures the eclectic, vintage flavor of Marc Jacobs’ feminine, edgy designs. Always elegant, always enchanting – but not too serious – Daisy is a sparkling floral bouquet, spirited and fresh, wrapped in comfort and warmth."

The packaging: We love it. The daisies are a bit super-suburb-cheese, but … we’re from the suburbs. We love it. The Marc Jacobs font. It’s not exactly … rustic French chic. Or elegant. Or a lot of other things. Sometimes adorability is the way to go. A+

The smell: We put it on and were all like, ‘Why do we smell like high school?’ We’re going with the term "entry-level" to describe Daisy: It’s not, like, challenging, or layered, or witty. It’s like: ‘Hey, you! Yeah, you, middle-schooler, looking for something to wear to your first dance! You want to wear this because it’s all fruity and sweet and comes in a super-cute bottle with plastic daisies!’ They use the word "edgy\edge" twice in that description above. We wouldn’t quite go there. But as a starter-perfume, why not?

Our grade: B-

In our next Reader Mail:

Dear BS,

I’m moving to Atlanta within the next few weeks. And I just love fragrance but can’t seem to find any fragrance boutiques or anything of the sort down there. I know you’re not in Atlanta or may not have any knowledge of the city but I was wondering if you or any of your readers knew of any cool fragrance shops in the Atlanta-Metro area?

Thank you,

V. N. T.

Oh! We have absolutely no idea. Atlanta’s one of those cities we haven’t been to since we were a kid, and it was like all Stone Mountain, all the time. Anyone out there able to help?

Of course, if it comes to mail order ("mail order"! er, Internet shopping) we’re totally all over Fragonard at the moment: classic French fragrance house. We just visited their factory in Eze, near Nice, and we honestly thought our head might explode. The scents are actually a bit grandmotherly (no offense) but we’re sort of into these: fleur d’oranger 100 ml, $30

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