Review: Poesie - Secret Boyfriend
Perfume: Secret Boyfriend
Brand: Poesie
Format: Oil
Price: $16 for 5ml in a rollerball glass bottle. Also available in a 2ml mini apothecary bottle for $6.50.
Availability: General catalogue
Description: (From the Poesie website)
A mountain of light fluffy marshmallows, your secret boyfriend’s leather jacket, pine and cedar, a wisp of smoke.
Background:
It took me a disturbingly long time to finally bite the bullet and try out Secret Boyfriend. I actually picked up a few samples from the Mary Shelley's Nightmare collection (I'm a sucker for a good horror classic), Bishop's Blonde (now, sadly, discontinued), and this one. On paper, it was weird enough for me to want to try, but I never could come up with enough fragrances I wanted a sample of to justify getting the pack.
That isn't to say I view Poesie in a negative light—I absolutely don't. I actually think the brand excels at wearable, feminine scents and fruity gourmands. That said, those are two kinds of fragrances I was avoiding with my first foray into indie perfume, because, well, that's the kind of stuff that department store perfume always promises. The thing is, I wish I'd started with something like Secret Boyfriend rather than Strange Little Girl, a fragrance I still own but still don't quite understand or even really enjoy. Perhaps I'll review it eventually.
Immediately upon applying the sample, straight out of the mail (like I do), I knew I had to get a full-size. My notoriously picky fiancé was even a fan of it. It's weird, yes—weird enough to satisfy my hunger for the odd and unique, but not so weird that it would offend the sensitivities of someone who prefers a Dolce and Gabbana or Dior perfume.
Review:
In the bottle, it's sweet purse leather with a hint of cedar. If you took an alien and showed them a bunch of typically masculine and typically feminine scents, and then had them smell this perfume, they might think it was a masculine fragrance, or at least unisex. The thing is, so many of us here on Earth have the shared experience of smelling the bottom of our mother's purse when she fished out her lipstick or a granola bar—that's what it smells like out of the bottle.
Wet, you get the very same, but stronger. I'd even venture to say there's a bit more of a spicy quality when it hits the skin, which may be the pine and the smoke, but it's barely perceptible. Dry, however, the fragrance finally begins to morph as warm, toasty marshmallows creep to the forefront against the backdrop of the leather bag. The smoke is also quite a bit more noticeable when dry; it intermingles beautifully with the marshmallows, here.
In fact, this scent really reminds me of a toned-down and feminized Smoky Mountain Mallow from Solstice Scents, and I much prefer this (all smoke-forward scents, such as Smoky Mountain Mallow and Last Exit for the Lost from Sixteen92, turn full-barbecue on me.)
The thing about this scent is that it does not die. I have yet to wake up in the morning (at 4:30, mind you), put this fragrance on, and not still smell it on my skin when I go to bed at 9:00. When it's only a skin scent, it's just the faintest leather and cedar, and I'd venture to say just not as pleasant anymore. Perhaps that's me growing sick of the fragrance by the end of the day, or perhaps the long-disappeared marshmallows and smoke really helped make this scent not just good, but great.
Throw: Strong as hell. I grow nose-blind pretty quickly to myself, but I'll pretty much be smelling this fragrance all day, at least a little, which means others can probably smell you within a couple of feet.
Longevity: Strong for about six hours, fainter and within a narrower radius for about another five, and a skin scent presumably for fucking ever if you never showered.
Rating: Easily a 9/10 for the beautiful balance of artistry and wearability, and because you can really reach a lot of different scent "personalities" with this fragrance. Just docking a point because the really heavy throw and longevity can make a person really sick of this perfume by the end of the day... but the next day comes and you just want to wear it again, anyway.
Song: Glass Animals, "Agnes"
Brand: Poesie
Format: Oil
Price: $16 for 5ml in a rollerball glass bottle. Also available in a 2ml mini apothecary bottle for $6.50.
Availability: General catalogue
Description: (From the Poesie website)
A mountain of light fluffy marshmallows, your secret boyfriend’s leather jacket, pine and cedar, a wisp of smoke.
Background:
It took me a disturbingly long time to finally bite the bullet and try out Secret Boyfriend. I actually picked up a few samples from the Mary Shelley's Nightmare collection (I'm a sucker for a good horror classic), Bishop's Blonde (now, sadly, discontinued), and this one. On paper, it was weird enough for me to want to try, but I never could come up with enough fragrances I wanted a sample of to justify getting the pack.
That isn't to say I view Poesie in a negative light—I absolutely don't. I actually think the brand excels at wearable, feminine scents and fruity gourmands. That said, those are two kinds of fragrances I was avoiding with my first foray into indie perfume, because, well, that's the kind of stuff that department store perfume always promises. The thing is, I wish I'd started with something like Secret Boyfriend rather than Strange Little Girl, a fragrance I still own but still don't quite understand or even really enjoy. Perhaps I'll review it eventually.
Immediately upon applying the sample, straight out of the mail (like I do), I knew I had to get a full-size. My notoriously picky fiancé was even a fan of it. It's weird, yes—weird enough to satisfy my hunger for the odd and unique, but not so weird that it would offend the sensitivities of someone who prefers a Dolce and Gabbana or Dior perfume.
Review:
In the bottle, it's sweet purse leather with a hint of cedar. If you took an alien and showed them a bunch of typically masculine and typically feminine scents, and then had them smell this perfume, they might think it was a masculine fragrance, or at least unisex. The thing is, so many of us here on Earth have the shared experience of smelling the bottom of our mother's purse when she fished out her lipstick or a granola bar—that's what it smells like out of the bottle.
Wet, you get the very same, but stronger. I'd even venture to say there's a bit more of a spicy quality when it hits the skin, which may be the pine and the smoke, but it's barely perceptible. Dry, however, the fragrance finally begins to morph as warm, toasty marshmallows creep to the forefront against the backdrop of the leather bag. The smoke is also quite a bit more noticeable when dry; it intermingles beautifully with the marshmallows, here.
In fact, this scent really reminds me of a toned-down and feminized Smoky Mountain Mallow from Solstice Scents, and I much prefer this (all smoke-forward scents, such as Smoky Mountain Mallow and Last Exit for the Lost from Sixteen92, turn full-barbecue on me.)
The thing about this scent is that it does not die. I have yet to wake up in the morning (at 4:30, mind you), put this fragrance on, and not still smell it on my skin when I go to bed at 9:00. When it's only a skin scent, it's just the faintest leather and cedar, and I'd venture to say just not as pleasant anymore. Perhaps that's me growing sick of the fragrance by the end of the day, or perhaps the long-disappeared marshmallows and smoke really helped make this scent not just good, but great.
Throw: Strong as hell. I grow nose-blind pretty quickly to myself, but I'll pretty much be smelling this fragrance all day, at least a little, which means others can probably smell you within a couple of feet.
Longevity: Strong for about six hours, fainter and within a narrower radius for about another five, and a skin scent presumably for fucking ever if you never showered.
Rating: Easily a 9/10 for the beautiful balance of artistry and wearability, and because you can really reach a lot of different scent "personalities" with this fragrance. Just docking a point because the really heavy throw and longevity can make a person really sick of this perfume by the end of the day... but the next day comes and you just want to wear it again, anyway.
Song: Glass Animals, "Agnes"
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