Perfume, Punk, and Cookies.

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Val the Cookie Queen

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Hey APJ Perfumistas, Music Fans, and Cookie Monsters

I am gonna be interviewed live, on a local radio station on the 15th of March.  Talking about perfumes, punk, and cookies.  I am so freaking excited I asked Portia if I could share the news with you.  I mean, what is the definition of local radio in 2019 huh?  You can all listen to it online anywhere in the world.

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Perfume, Punk, and Cookies.

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Scent Diary: 26.2 – 4.3.2018

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Portia

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Hey there APJ Crew,

It’s Mardi Gras Parade week here in Sydney. Though I’ve kept a pretty low profile Sydney has been bursting at the seams with International Visitors here to enjoy the last week of our Mardi Gras Season. The weather has been perfect for everything and I’m hearing reports of a super year. Saturday nights parade was my Big Event this year, hosting the Sideshow Glam Stands. An excellent week, now I’m bushed!

 

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Scent Diary: 19.2 – 25.2.2018

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Portia

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Hey there APJ Crew,

Mardi Gras season is in full swing this week. I only attended a couple of events but my FaceBook feed is chock full of exciting moments happening across Sydney. There were also a bunch of fragrant adventures and LOADS of perfume was sniffed, spritzed, sampled and savoured. Friends old and new dropped in, Art happened, Roller Derby and a slew of other fun stuff.

 

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Arbolé Arbolé by Hiram Green 2016

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Post by Val the Cookie Queen

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Foggy November Greetings APJ!

Perfume Excitement

As I mentioned in my last blog post, I prefer not l to write about anything that I don´t own. There are however exceptions to every rule. I had an email from Hiram Green of Hiram Green perfumes informing me that there was a sample of his new perfume on its way to me. His work is consistently excellent and I have enjoyed each fragrance. Yesterday I had a call from a perfumista friend I trust one hundred percent, raving on about Arbolé Arbolé. And then I read Claire Vukcevic´s post, of Take One Thing Off and APJ. Shifting into perfume excitement mode, I waited anxiously for the postman.

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Arbolé Arbolé by Hiram Green 2016

arbole-arbole-hiram-green-fragranticaFragrantica

Fragrantica gives these featured accords:
Patchouli, cedar, sandalwood, vanilla, tonka bean

…… with the grey arm of the wind wrapped around her waist

Arbolé, Arbolé takes its name from Frederico Garcia Lorca´s exquisite poem of the same name. It is new to me though written in 1955, and acutely expressive.
I wish I could read Spanish.

arbole-arbole-hiram-green-r-nial-bradshaw-girls-umbrella-wind-flight-flickrFlickr

Arbolé Arbolé is so impressive I am speechless, sat here with my head in my hands wondering what to write. My husband just yelled from the living room “nicht zerreden”. Which means don´t talk it to death. He also said to order a bottle. I have never smelled anything that is remotely similar. I have been wearing it for six hours now, longevity is great.

Hiram Green writes: “Arbolé Arbolé opens with a burst of earthy patchouli that slowly merges with dry cedar wood and velvety sandalwood. Vanilla and tonka bean anchor the fragrance and provide a sweet powdery base.” I guess he should know. Jump over to Hiram´s website and have a look.
Hiram Green are offering Arbolé Arbolé in a 10ml travel spray along with a full bottle AND what is particularly brilliant is that you can buy all of the HG perfumes in 10 ml travel sprays. Superb.

Our world has changed greatly since my last post. Political disaster encourages great music, so bring it on.
“Music is the emotional life of most people.” Leonard Cohen

Green Perfumed Bussis
CQ

PS. Hmmmmmm. A full bottle or 10mls, that is the question. I never order at night when the flesh is weak, tomorrow will tell. Watch this space!!

Arbolé Arbolé by Federico García Lorca, 1898 – 1936

Tree, tree
dry and green.

The girl with the pretty face
is out picking olives.
The wind, playboy of towers,
grabs her around the waist.
Four riders passed by
on Andalusian ponies,
with blue and green jackets
and big, dark capes.
“Come to Cordoba, muchacha.”
The girl won’t listen to them.
Three young bullfighters passed,
slender in the waist,
with jackets the color of oranges
and swords of ancient silver.
“Come to Sevilla, muchacha.”
The girl won’t listen to them.
When the afternoon had turned
dark brown, with scattered light,
a young man passed by, wearing
roses and myrtle of the moon.
“Come to Granada, muchacha.”
And the girl won’t listen to him.
The girl with the pretty face
keeps on picking olives
with the grey arm of the wind
wrapped around her waist.
Tree, tree
dry and green.