CB I Hate Perfumes "Memory of Kindness"

I'm going nuts with vegetable inspired scents here. Next in line is another great summer favourite of mine, CB I Hate Perfumes "Memory of Kindness".

This scent is recreated from a childhood memory of CB founder Christopher Brosius. On a sunny day, he was crawling around in the warm soil under some tomato wines, enjoying their smell, when his aunt called out for him. He startled her as he came crawling out from under the wines but instead of getting angry or irritated she just smiled and took his hand. 

On me, Memory of Kindness starts out smoky. Within minutes there is the CB signature soil accord. Here the soil is warm and sun kissed. Like walking through a vegetable patch on a sunny day when the bees are buzzing and you can almost feel the garden growing. The main crops here are tomatoes and this is my favourite rendition of tomatoes in any scent I've tried so far. It's hard to describe. If you think about tomatoness being a trinity, represented by a triangle.

• In one corner is that green sharpness you get from tomato wines and stalks. 
• Second corner is the juicy sweetness that burst into your mouth when biting into a sun ripened cherry tomato. 
• Third corner is the savoury meaetiness you get from a dried tomato. 

Memory of Kindness ends up in the very middle of this triangle. A bit of each but no side is overpowering. This might also undermine the reality of the tomato note, but hey, you can't have it all.

I like this scent a lot. It's very far from most peoples idea about how a perfume should smell and I have a difficult time to explain exactly what it is that I like about it but, as with all love, I just know that I do. It reminds me about CB "In the summer Kitchen", there is a similar initial smokiness and, of course, they are both about vegetables. But Memory of Kindness is warmer, less about Italian herbs and more close knit and introspective. I'm rating Memory of Kindness 5 out of 5. For making me smell like a tomato and loving it.

Iris Silver Mist by Serge Lutens

Scents inspire me like nothing else. When I try on a scent I get all full of ideas, I see pictures in my head, I think of music, sounds, food, stories, you name it. Iris Silver Mist is a Serge Lutens cult classic. It has been reviewed many times by people who know a lot more about perfume than I do. It's also the scent I get the strongest feelings/pictures about. I've been working this review for a while as wanted to find the right words. I'm realising I probably never will, so here goes my take on Iris Silver Mist.

Imagine you were alive some hundred years ago. Maybe you were a young man, forced to go out to fight in a war that's now long forgotten. Nobody bothered to give you any training and proper equipment. Before you knew it you were lying face down on the battlefield, bones broken, life bleeding out of you. Or maybe you were a young girl living at the same time, one day strange armed men showed up at your house, took you away into the forest, they mutilated and raped you just for the fun of it and left you do die alone in the woods.

After spending hours, maybe days, in utter agony there comes a time when the pain starts to fade. The soul is finally slipping away from the body. Death is reaching out her mighty hands towards you and you're only relieved to see her, happy to return her embrace.

That very moment, when still feeling Mother Earth against your body, breathing in the scent of her soil and roots, mud and grass, fertilized with your own blood. You can also smell what is about to come, there is airy incense with a hint of spices. At that very moment of transition, that is the smell of Iris Silver Mist.

This is a masterpiece of a perfume. It manages to be earthy and ethereal at the same time. It's very sad but also hopeful. It's the best scent I know of to wear when I'm feeling sad. It grounds me, comforts me and at the same time promises that things are going to be better. I love it and I'm rating this at least 5 out of 5.

Artwork by Robert M. Place

CB I Hate Perfume, 3 from 1

I've been going through my stash of CB I Hate Perfumes and here are reviews of 3 of the ones I like.

Winter 1972 is what I reckon CB:s masterpiece. There is a very skeletal version of the CBIHP signature soil accord, giving the impression of breathing crisp air outside on a chilly winters day. This scent supposed to be about snowy fields and hand knit woollen mittens. I'm not getting that. I'm getting being outside on one of the last days of winter. Most of the snow is gone, but the ground is still frozen. It's still cold but there is a, barely noticeable, hint that spring will be coming this year as well. The way CB captures the sleeping nature and the promise of what is to come never ceases to amaze me.

To see a flower is really rather similar to Winter 1972, when smelling them side by side. There is the soil accord again but with a generic floral element added to it. The fresh air that I'm getting from Winter 1972 is not as strong. There is no walking on an airy field, with this one you're crawling on all fours, marvelling at the wonders of nature, looking at insects buzzing around and finally burying your nose in a delicate little flower you've just found. This is a subtle and very realistic rendition of nature that I love. According to the CBIHP site, this scent was inspired by a poem by Georgia O'Keefe:

In a way,
nobody sees a flower really,
it is so small,
we haven't time and to see takes time like to have a friend takes time.

Beautiful, isn't it

Patchouli Empire starts out resinous, bordering on rubbery, but within 10 minutes it settles into unadorned patchouli. It's peppery with a tiny hint of mothballs. I find it a unique scent among the CBIHP:s. There is no signature soil accord, no nature, it does not feel like a time or a place or a situation, it's just patchouli. Maybe I'd say this one feels more like a conventional perfume in that aspect. It's light and wearable and great if you just want patchouli and nothing else.

For other, a bit meatier, reviews I've done on CB I Hate Perfume, take a look at:
Russian Caravan Tea
In the Summer Kitchen

Pic: Wikipedia