tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72485110765933971542024-03-09T00:25:20.970-08:00Get It Together, SerenaA Blog About Beauty, Fragrance, And Anguish Over Serena van der Woodsen's Consistently Terrible JudgementAri Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-39437997359190332812010-01-27T16:40:00.000-08:002010-01-27T16:49:32.846-08:00Get It Together, Serena is moving!My beloved readers,<div>I was fortunate enough to get some excellent advice recently from a very successful perfume blogger. One of her suggestions was that I move from blogspot to wordpress. So as of today, Serena is packing up her emotional baggage and moving to http://scentsofself.wordpress.com/. The blog is now called "Scents of Self". To the very lovely women who have become followers, please keep reading! I would love to continue to hear from you. Although it is currently empty, I will be transferring the content over very soon and writing new posts in no time. </div><div>Once again, the link is: http://scentsofself.wordpress.com/</div><div>Thank you for reading, everyone!</div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-71973035780005802992010-01-27T10:29:00.000-08:002010-01-27T11:52:28.791-08:00Sexy Times, Part 3: Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDR0mUwzebvzouuqMjvQjk-IMsWMgVPsfS5jg88SINlcJcaDr4OsyerDpHdvJUeJnPfxbRVb_CPZmcQHqVjsvK_ic4QL3hRpuYZPeXPBWHuuAH4-vrgN_iet_l2dTF67WL8H0ITK6hbPV7/s1600-h/flowerbomb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDR0mUwzebvzouuqMjvQjk-IMsWMgVPsfS5jg88SINlcJcaDr4OsyerDpHdvJUeJnPfxbRVb_CPZmcQHqVjsvK_ic4QL3hRpuYZPeXPBWHuuAH4-vrgN_iet_l2dTF67WL8H0ITK6hbPV7/s320/flowerbomb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431509278651238274" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><br /></span></div> </span>Queridos, the first two perfumes in this very sexy series have, for the most part, been on the darker end of the sexy spectrum. Today we will explore the lighter side of sexy, something I like to call "pink sexy". Pink sexy is not particularly sensual. It's more Barbie than Bardot. Where MV3 was a leather dress, a "pink sexy" perfume would be a Juicy Couture tracksuit. Pink sexy means Cher Horowitz in <i>Clueless</i>, Regina George in <i>Mean Girls</i>, Kirsten Dunst in <i>Bring It On</i>. The prettiest girls at your high school, the ones who straighten their blonde hair every morning and always frame their blindingly white smiles with the perfect pink lipgloss. They could steal your boyfriend with ease, if they even knew who you were. The prom queens, the sorority girls, the cheerleaders. Love them or hate them, you can't help but want to be like them.<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGMSCZuEOw8sHr7s4Nnhe-U6UHT9nf0Ed4Au2cAoO_QJUCGZdE0EHIcPevqiY-QE-vBgipKPULdH1bJ9XU8244d0Ehv6BofVcvyvaqvZBuzLb04NrMY0-dbD89_fYG0knnCOr5y1M-nxML/s320/clueless+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431508709954468578" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh, '90s fashion. </span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Flowerbomb, created in 2004, exemplifies this perky, girly type of sexiness. Flowerbomb is a bit of a misnomer; "Sugarbomb" would have been more appropriate. Flowerbomb is sweet beyond belief and is very closely related to Aquolina Pink Sugar, Chanel Coco Mademoiselle, and Philosophy Falling In Love. Now, I have repeatedly established myself as an enemy of Pink Sugar on this blog, and in general I do not find such sugary fare particularly sexy. However, I acknowledge that the reason that there are so very many overly sweet perfumes on the market today is because many women love them. Study after study has shown that men also prefer sweet smells, such as vanilla (they are also fond of bacon). I would be remiss if I did not include a perfume from the sugary genre, and Flowerbomb is probably the best of its kind. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>One of the reasons that I hate Pink Sugar so much is that I actually had very high hopes for it. A perfume that smells like cotton candy? Who doesn't like cotton candy? But then Pink Sugar just smelled like licorice, and it broke my heart, and then she slept with like three of my bros, just don't even talk to me about her, man. Flowerbomb actually achieves the cotton candy effect that Pink Sugar promised but never delivered. The opening stage of Flowerbomb is juicy (bergamot) and sweet. It makes me imagine a room in Willy Wonka's factory, perhaps a cave made entirely of pink rock candy. After a few minutes I could smell something that my nose registered as strawberries. Since there are actually no fruits at all in Flowerbomb, I am forced to conclude that this is instead the lightest jasmine that I have ever smelled. Flowerbomb stumbles once the patchouli appears. Something about the combination of sugar and patchouli, a notoriously earthy note, seems rather off. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Flowerbomb bears a startling resemblance to Thierry Mugler's Angel; it could pass for Angel's shy little sister. Like Angel, Flowerbomb can be a little scary, reminiscent of how the Regina Georges of the world are often feared as much as they are loved. Pink sexy can and often does deteriorate into "bitchy sexy". At its best, however, Flowerbomb is pleasant, flirty fun. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCSPIzQJ8Ne83tT0NnNYJXQCAcnW1NFX7SDyFExMmojptnLQa7SkRCmdtkHjVtO6sBaOVc88pYo5icgxdS_Hlh8vgypyvy1DtfhmYWfnTOrIlUv5g-ipAd2IPZ4fhgsbT1G5HVNzW6vTvJ/s320/regina+george.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431507754233970482" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When Regina George makes this face, you RUN AWAY.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Disclaimer: I begged for a sample of Flowerbomb from Saks Fifth Avenue. </span></i></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-4334635861558081522010-01-25T09:36:00.000-08:002010-01-25T12:15:29.348-08:00Sexy Times, Part 2: M.A.C MV3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3-j23ELxkGGGIiQGoJDW2Sdiz42ppwM4BUG-PlcYfhjQhAwjXQvOZy-MHg16jOm5x5SSYzGjNfFWMa8AqWzzb1XD-2R7wG51WGVlEceXlWn8meacZhNnE168kNAH9_QYsoHXhY11Tasp/s1600-h/MAC+MV3.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3-j23ELxkGGGIiQGoJDW2Sdiz42ppwM4BUG-PlcYfhjQhAwjXQvOZy-MHg16jOm5x5SSYzGjNfFWMa8AqWzzb1XD-2R7wG51WGVlEceXlWn8meacZhNnE168kNAH9_QYsoHXhY11Tasp/s320/MAC+MV3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430770954793231378" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The other day we talked about Angelina Jolie, who was widely considered to be the hottest woman on the planet until the recent appearance of version 2.0, the younger, graceless Megan Fox. Although I had pegged Angelina as a Prada woman, she actually wears a men's cologne, Bvlgari Black. Black was created by perfumer Annick Menardo, who is also responsible for the very popular Lolita Lempicka and Christian Dior Hypnotic Poision, and released in 1998. Since its inception Black has been the darling of perfume lovers and critics, who rejoiced at being able to find such an unusual perfume at a mainstream price. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Black is supposedly a smoky vanilla scent, with the smokiness coming from a lapsang souchong tea note. The reality is that Black smells like straight-up burnt rubber. Now, rubber may have sexy connotations galore to the BDSM crowd, but I personally find it disorienting and unenjoyable. Black is edgy, I'll give it that, and a good match for Angelina, who famously used to wear a vial of her ex-husband's blood as a necklace.<div><br /><div><div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>You guys, I know that we're supposed to think that Angelina is like a much more bangable Mother Teresa or something to that extent, but does anyone else remember that she used to be really, really <i>weird</i>? I mean, remember how she made out with her brother on the red carpet, and took pictures with horses that were <i>Equus</i>-levels of inappropriate, and slept with a knife under her pillow, and just generally seemed very troubled? I will include the most family-friendly of those horse pictures here to illustrate my point. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJqT36Xx-Xpbza3UQenM1M1lvWM71iMz7ivDg0H6fISiXK06yxRxyIletEQY0QCI1j_b4Ch3qLzmB6S0q-TJokdBNZlc5bD_RRNuo64_WtYtR520QEzMiDHR5ZNsMHwBk6v3T2Ts05fM3/s320/angelina+jolie+horse.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430770696287611426" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Yes, this really and truly was the most family-friendly of the horse pictures.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I will be honest here: I do not particularly care for Angelina Jolie. I would never try to deny her incredible beauty or her equally impressive charity work, but I also have not forgotten that she had an affair with a married man. I also hated her in "A Mighty Heart". I actually feel fairly strongly about this. "A Mighty Heart" was about the Jewish journalist Daniel Pearl, who was murdered by Pakistani terrorists in 2002. That movie had a damn important story to tell, and that story was lost amidst Jolie's overdramatic attempt at serious acting. Additionally, "Beowulf" was nothing short of the worst movie of all time. I think what I'm trying to say here is that Angie should probably stick to "Tomb Raider", and try to be a little bit less of a homewrecker. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuV0vmC2wuEkttgLqz3uhL4ZcHXIWcBts2iilM7AIYLR4ae3Iy9OavKbndoLzQ_jf4ggbTo1nWMDOopDeYy1qBP3pjqz5pPLA6ea28isP_2rwEM-mbl1QcW45oYMqPHWfAVUO2GUKhO-WE/s320/angelina+homewrecker.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430770387765594370" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Cut it out, Angie!</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So we were talking about Black, and how it is very interesting but (in my personal, very unpopular opinion) has no place on a list of sexy perfumes. However, Black is closely related to a perfume that is the very definition of "Sexy Times": MV3 by M.A.C. MV3 was created in 2002 by perfumer Cecile Krakower, whose otherwise scanty resume includes "Paris Hilton Fairy Dust." Like Black, MV3 is a smoky vanilla. There are two key differences between the two. First, where Black evokes smokestacks belching out black clouds, MV3 contains a mere breath of smoke. Second, instead of Black's bizarre rubber note, MV3 has dark, creamy leather. Despite a prominent vanilla note, MV3 is worlds away from Pink Sugar and its ilk. It starts off sweet and smoky and dries down to a rather sharp, unsweetened leather. At no point is MV3 particularly friendly or comforting. The green dagger that is the vetiver topnote gives MV3 unsmoothable edges and a dangerous glint in its eyes. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>MV3 reminds me of the Barry Levinson movie "Liberty Heights". Adrien Brody falls in love with an exquisite girl (played by the still-fabulous model Carolyn Murphy), only to discover that she is absolutely psychotic. Her character is compared to a thoroughbred horse: beautiful, but <i>very</i> high-strung. MV3 smells like a stunning woman (blonde hair, pale, creamy skin) wearing a tight-fitting leather jacket. She's sitting alone at a bar, smoking a cigarette. You might wonder how such a gorgeous creature could possibly be alone. If you were to approach her, you would probably discover that there is a very good reason for her solitude. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-dn8jWo2rdT5Ef1cDJ1xVwbglfwVyXJzTia4zs04exJBf0VMl_VqxSJ4HaiaWmFzNXBwsv3jHHnJNh-Om4hfG_4GdqEk541gTMsT5VYsIuHxBQ2VjjKyK3w5Lg6FVOlHFNBQvrz3qHRK/s320/carolyn+murphy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430769717376519122" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Carolyn Murphy in Liberty Heights. Can't you just feel the crazy?</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Disclaimer: I have sampled Black at Sephora and MV3 at Nordstrom. </span></i></div></div></div></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-37330775653944499862010-01-23T02:41:00.000-08:002010-01-23T21:00:47.320-08:00Sexy Times, Part 1: Prada Eau de Parfum<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGFm9LaZwOoGc14xAMMNVQ3aaT66ZJDq4ArVlAGVmqWfSwujwhqKvCbWvKn3MZrizEsU6MkHE2YFG7IfuuDvi4vzgeJhsIMUYJKGTl1MPQ0ylD3_gQ4lerg9NwkCvmNrSDK0GWlZQqNPY/s1600-h/prada.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGFm9LaZwOoGc14xAMMNVQ3aaT66ZJDq4ArVlAGVmqWfSwujwhqKvCbWvKn3MZrizEsU6MkHE2YFG7IfuuDvi4vzgeJhsIMUYJKGTl1MPQ0ylD3_gQ4lerg9NwkCvmNrSDK0GWlZQqNPY/s320/prada.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430163054080797138" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Queridos, I have an unfortunate and debilitating condition. I will tell you about it if you promise not to laugh. My driver's license says that I am 4'11". The reality is even a smidgen shorter. My height prevents me from competing on my favorite TV show of all time, America's Next Top Model (the minimum height requirement is 5'7"). It prevents me from seeing over the steering wheel when I drive (mostly kidding, but you actually should really try to avoid driving behind me).<div><br /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVr8jofD9Bv_sfYqyDtohK3ZmvNmPF6p8M_9Ms-C68uCfyRQ81fQy8huDpuBGiPlCrOPzx6gHxnOTe_5S7Apwk4kkjRkrDv9F0iK64r3X8K9EQui3h61uJi2zlhuHDSiKAbi_-z6iPu2G/s320/you+must+be+this+tall+to+ride.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430162508146952706" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">When you're 4'11", the whole world is a "You must be this tall to ride" sign.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Most of all, my midgetdom places me firmly in the "cute" category. This issue is compounded by the fact that I also look a good three or four years younger than my age (18). Words like "sexy" or "seductive" will never, ever be used to describe me. Do not pass "hot", do not collect $2,000. I try to compensate for this aspect of being vertically challenged by wearing perfumes with blatantly obvious, impossible-to-miss sex appeal. I need my perfume to say, "It's okay to be attracted to me! I am above the legal age of consent in all 50 states!"</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>You may be surprised, but "sexy" perfumes are actually becoming increasingly rare in today's perfume market. The 1980's were all about strong, powerful perfumes. They had presence and sex appeal to spare, but they were also so overwhelming that many were banned in workplaces, restaurants and other public places. Opium. Obsession. Giorgio. The 1990's saw a backlash against these types of perfumes. Women wanted perfumes that smelled fresh, clean, and above all soft. The unisex, citrusy CK One is an enduring example of this genre. Today, in 2010, the "clean" trend remains dominant (although it has some competition from the "overly sweet" trend exemplified by Pink Sugar). The exceedingly airy Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue has been a topseller for 8 years. Unfortunately, too often "clean" becomes "nondescript". These perfumes certainly have less potential to be offensive than those monsters of the '80s, but they also have a great deal less personality. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>For the next few blog posts, I plan to focus on the few contemporary sexy scents that have survived despite the public demand for something fresher and lighter. My personal favorite in this category is a perfume that never got the memo that the '80s are over: Prada. Prada was created in 2004 by Carlos Benaim and Max Gavary. Like Thierry Mugler's Angel, Prada features a very prominent patchouli note. Unlike Angel, however, Prada actually smells good. The patchouli combines with labdanum (a woody, ambery scent) and benzoin (a note that smells like powdery vanilla) to create an utterly intoxicating perfume. It smells delicious, without crossing the line into edible or over-sugared. Prada seems darker and more complex than it actually is (it's essentially a woody vanilla), forever hinting at new layers that are about to be unveiled. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Prada's sex appeal is not of the coy, flirtatious Marilyn Monroe variety. As evidenced by the knowing gaze of model Daria Werbowy in the ad, Prada knows exactly what it's doing. It's more of a seductress than a flirt, more vampy than wholesome. Prada smirks more than it smiles. If Prada were a person, it would doubtless be Angelina Jolie. Prada and Ms. Jolie are two unconventional beauties who share a hypnotic, slightly dangerous quality. Maybe you've been wearing your favorite perfume for years, but Prada will tempt you away faster than you can say "Mr. and Mrs. Smith". By the vanilla-heavy drydown, Prada becomes soft and comforting, reminiscent of Angelina's transition from bad-girl to her current Mother Earth phase. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwG8NtONW8FdAGU-mQ6TF-IOQZIWU9Zd2K-6rxvY5JQAaofZpGa8sPzv9xHKyVP89xxRhxvH40SlcQ13QISQD2IXPG4pROVnmZMj5Tb9PqT4zat6sBlvgRI0_7YgzKVM1Mz19Do2dF6vw/s320/angelina+jolie+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430161913242361714" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Disclosure: I own a ginormous bottle of Prada because I never want to be without it. </i></div></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-77365018318652978472010-01-22T00:40:00.001-08:002010-01-22T02:02:41.528-08:00Beyonce Heat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1d11Cvf7AX1cCt52LPCkWL38E3EhaTnNaAjNWTumVN0yB0xlrJkfBSHnlrQV_jpmVWcw-gc-I3DMefsXf5SRobEvJPg0lr8Mu6Us2VMoT5IOPIJOaFPYYLzI7B4K5nv1pvfFQ1AYW5k9/s1600-h/beyonce-heat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1d11Cvf7AX1cCt52LPCkWL38E3EhaTnNaAjNWTumVN0yB0xlrJkfBSHnlrQV_jpmVWcw-gc-I3DMefsXf5SRobEvJPg0lr8Mu6Us2VMoT5IOPIJOaFPYYLzI7B4K5nv1pvfFQ1AYW5k9/s320/beyonce-heat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429502142081925122" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyone who knows me well knows that I am in a long-standing, committed relationship with Beyonce Knowles. I am probably one of three people on the planet (me, my best friend J, and I am generously assuming that there is at least one other person) who owns "Austin Powers 3: Goldmember", in which Beyonce played "Foxxy Cleopatra". That movie actually came out on my birthday, because Beyonce is very thoughtful that way. Also, I love that she appears to be wearing Princess Leah's gold bikini for the duration of the movie.<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlGW_YkLWRkQp0rOkyBk5DHllAxXPWjL8VXXEgolYwqNuaTFlCOOuu7FCONDzWF5D1zmLUhs4SoGaHqa7dsVmZJWErI-p1LbZeJvg5NVHJC-oLaB932wjctkZV3K7klfiHxcMIWYO_BrB/s320/beyonce-goldmember.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429501479602186946" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm Foxxy Cleopatra, and I'm a whoooole lot of woman!</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>How do I love thee, B? The woman is insanely beautiful, and even more insanely talented. No contemporary singer can touch Beyonce vocally. Me, J and Michelle Obama (we went in separate cars, but still) went to a Beyonce concert this summer, and I have honestly never heard such a beautiful voice in my life. Her acting skills have also come a long way since Goldmember. People seem to have mixed views on "Dreamgirls"; I think that she was incredible. Beyonce is currently aspiring to add "perfumer" to her very long list of talents, with her new perfume "Heat". I picked up a sample at Macy's, and I have a few thoughts, the first being "I do not want to be packing this particular Heat" and the second "Keep your day job, honey."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>First off, the ad is laughably bad. The catchphrase, "Catch the Fever", makes it sound like some sort of STD or possibly swine flu. Also, it is beyond me how they were able to make such a gorgeous woman look so freaking terrible. I think it may have something to do with that satin... thing she's wearing. Beyonce, please tell me this is not what you meant by your "Freakum Dress". Get this girl some Armani couture!</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBi8vXORqoGKzDGx9x8C9ktaK3lM363hW7jnXd7vFBXoprDBW9H8fNg7WOjQERb26hCaZEpVbxwh222RsB5E50w3IMBjdtSMsAXHP92CK9aONR6VKomOVWs5QT5x_9r0L9QODhAFj7eraB/s320/beyonce+armani.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429501219540771426" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">See? Much better!</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Heat" is a yawn-inducingly generic combination of very sweet fruity notes (in this case, peach) with an amber-lite drydown. It is very reminiscent of the limited-edition fragrances that Escada puts out each year (Rockin' Rio, Pacific Paradise, etc.). Heat is in no way unpleasant, but it is far from worthy of the Queen B. Heat is more of a Ciara than a Beyonce (Ciara being a similarly gorgeous R&B singer with a far weaker voice). I think it's telling that Beyonce has often told interviewers, "I don't wear perfume." B, you know I'm very committed to our relationship, but I must tell you that perhaps someone who doesn't wear perfume should not be designing it. Quite frankly, no perfume might be better than this. </div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-64895583974904060352010-01-21T22:14:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:03:06.342-08:00Quick Post<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0X636t4P07rE-R6NA0IXP_0AeIAzvRxcdNEkacAb3hR71GhqzWZH5Tdfnm-BCduRPOtsL9jKtSmzil8qa1JmmeGOFY5uuB0l2WoQg45R1FC7jRBS3GyxBAKFcc7XD8b90iouti8E0NSpq/s1600-h/kim-kardashian-perfume-2.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0X636t4P07rE-R6NA0IXP_0AeIAzvRxcdNEkacAb3hR71GhqzWZH5Tdfnm-BCduRPOtsL9jKtSmzil8qa1JmmeGOFY5uuB0l2WoQg45R1FC7jRBS3GyxBAKFcc7XD8b90iouti8E0NSpq/s320/kim-kardashian-perfume-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429444741857175490" /></a>I have longer, more exciting things that I plan to post tomorrow, but I just wanted to mention that I actually did smell the new Kim Kardashian perfume. It smells like honeysuckle and was very pleasant. Buy "Wild Honeysuckle" from Bath and Body Works for $5 instead.Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-26499896094267398502010-01-18T13:01:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:23:50.358-08:00Golden Globes Beauty/Why Kate Hudson Needs To Stop<div style="text-align: left;">In my heart, I have always believed that the Golden Globes are completely superfluous. I mean, we already have the Oscars, you know? But I will not let my personal beliefs stand in the way of reviewing the looks from last night, dear readers. I would never do that to you.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUxVnEUv0OoXIzu4UTxKsJPe9SZvj1DocD2j78rQuEhdpNqK0ANIWfrLLYV0pu7HPLeBnpHQFRxRojLLkVpdAJLo5U0vFRF8bMnAUOURzqZT7CY13yIGMuN4gVwEjlQ_Kx1FqW-FEDMl7/s320/christina+aguilera+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428248315592694226" /></div><div>First up is Christina Aguilera. Now, I do feel that the liner on her lower lashline is too thick. But OH MY GOD is this a massive improvement. Y'all, remember the <i>Stripped</i> days? Some of Christina's best music ("Beautiful", "Dirrty") was on the <i>Stripped </i>album, but she was also going through that really weird phase where she talked a lot about how she had been abused by her father, and it was really clear that underneath her insanely over-the-top sexuality were some pretty intense daddy issues, and that was sort of uncomfortable for everyone involved. Also, she dressed like she worked at a strip club that was located in a dumpster. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb3lBjmMjJEgDWGaJu-MjTJi6RcNLaBlqbOcfXJJVUxBjZG_iLqSSLRQRbI5AM7l5ObsQT5Nl3SFADumSylo4vfuUTUJTaXjq949C9sN7kBI91b8sSqZ68ZQImKlXc8SnANps2Quf9VvZo/s320/christina+aguilera+OMFG.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428248007126251090" /></div><div>The skankiness of <i>Stripped</i>-era Christina was such that Snooki, the impossibly trashy-yet-delightful midget from Jersey Shore, is often compared to her. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSL0yqVOrH-vrkoMLDyo5Kji_v5F4_fofr-qcFtrWudchwFR1mqew_CzxUPKtaJxvExXDFWv_TOnZmPurGMI8j2WeVSRv0NyhIoxV2ALAljEUBVHFo3HPzafss2tfm-UK2g5jdPEmzCMfv/s320/snooki.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428247830618477442" /></div><div>So while her makeup may not have been perfect at the Globes, I think that we can all agree that Christina is Most Improved 2010. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 193px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1CrXFISCI7YzmsxT7Y0C2zBVxXFpxQ_GnGpNfRXsjpCxIjRw1nZH-mobeQXf8HmzwMbNLSFkKsLlUsBSl1RsGd2A_B5UzMeEY5NbB1ZtGQDkGs9oB76oBSxnOCVAMMya8a9koaoajOrsR/s320/lindsay+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428247523802558850" /></div><div>Next is Lindsay Lohan. I am not ashamed to admit my feelings for Lohan. I have loved her ever since Parent Trap. I loved her in that movie where Tyra Banks was a Barbie doll. When everyone said that she was a cokehead, I supported her. When she decided she was kind-of-but-not-really a lesbian, I supported her. Lindsay has rewarded my unflagging support by dying her gorgeous red hair a horrific shade of blonde, refusing to appear in an actual good movie, and generally acting a fool. It's common knowledge that Marilyn Monroe is Lindsay's biggest role model, but I think that she emulates Marilyn for the wrong reasons (the drama, the drugs). That being said, it is very nice to see her out and about A) wearing a dress that fully covers her breasts, B) seemingly drug-free, C) smiling! and D) actually looking quite cute. Now just dye your hair back and we're in business.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DI7AhkvAFtmpqQpFtEsY1Ra84nIxiYUZKzl5sfF1QRu6wO-WtG8eQg0wzHqP_LP6s69AQ3ASyKMN1YbY2BdDVzL3k80DAp8OOSPW_AnbzPU3rbAHvYENzyqcbkIeQyqwUmk_1rt8JQXH/s320/halle+berry.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428247268298674498" /></div><div>Halle Berry looks like her usual fabulous self. The woman simply does not age. Her eye makeup is a bit dark for my tastes. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir4D6NNpiIC0WMgnsJ7ncQXktqbhyGpC8_IQEfEDmPY6lZWnZ6p2ZwSP9GMBUtFLqJ4JZxtfC22nC6nYvvTNd1YlCu0ubGnjPIwlIW5PJdYRunEQfFFM5nfM8_1oOJQdc9MLQFRTfs4i9I/s320/monique.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428246811400463618" /></div><div>Actress and comedian Mo'nique. Disclaimer: I have not seen Precious, only the trailers. I have heard it is incredible and am dying to see it. Anyway, Mo'nique's makeup is a good example of how lovely neutral colors can look on black women. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qz4mFGQ-YU-P8N_EuXO8TVyGcykC5A3cYE2zybV-4DtZhIunIKPi7_0EUdpsWoT9A8x7GE3Fe2ttgIJR9C9FZezd438F4pogX7RvYoHbZkJ0ZfoiDizXcK5FudlFZ8oBf9KGV2uNVqD1/s320/amy+poehler.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428246233684578434" /></div><div>Amy Poehler is my very favorite female comedian. I even like her better than I like Tina Fey, which is a lot. She looks just beautiful, but the pink lips are all wrong for a red dress. Learn from her mistake, queridos.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcSr2ZGREBT2Bj3Xbbp0qDDkC7svIrqXoEtvZV4r-oTLIE2-zV_QuSXAKGMklgsPFhZDDMO48fbtadQpetBGxNlouMze2JxDHnTi5Pb6urwSSlJO3O8OxFEo585znU3QrIrwEfx25jg6W/s320/jennifer+aniston.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428245909406654018" /></div><div>Jennifer Aniston, you are aging supremely well. No one can argue with your makeup, which is a textbook example of how navy eyeliner can look really lovely with blue eyes. I do, however, take issue with your hair. It is messy. I understand that you have been unemployed ever since <i>Friends</i> ended, and that might be kind of depressing, but you are still richer than I will ever be so cheer up and brush your damn hair. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjralU2mYIQgTvWYMd-v_dTE1LfGPzOmibze3ryDrJuTjd1rDdNMaOsSs9OFyLTw4ztZTHlRvUAXelh63klSQoUfETv6choAFhIgsVdxGc2HIck9HHA4LJ7c31espqzx-AM1kWxUyUG_ZRR/s320/zoe+saldana.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428245552604270818" /></div><div>Zoe Saldana here played Uhura in the new Star Trek movie, which I have seen no less than 6 times because it is fantastic. My one complaint is that in this new version, Uhura is all into Spock, which is ridiculous because everyone knows that she confessed her feelings for Scotty in <i>Star Trek V: The Final Frontier</i>. I have no such complaints about Zoe's makeup. She looks stunning, and I love those soft waves. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqnVzcPywFe6y7A7TgBbxZzDIdIvgqiNtvgpLR8kXzSAP6DJZ-JCsKmC6J8-iaFazFc_GptBJFsSZNzB6DT9uAZI9D_thpyIGfhKOZQUx0uF8f6rxfpHCy4qQ_IfI7EO4O-p7K-W708kP/s320/calista+flockhart.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428245169770693906" /></div><div>Calista Flockhart, Han Solo/Indiana Jones is holding your umbrella. He also appears to have his ear pierced, which is nothing short of awesome. Would it kill you to smile? I also think that you could have benefitted from some lipstick. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cI4faPc7UL1Nrft8lBf95jordJSRLjSncvjItrUViNvtDBOg-nmGAUP2VXchJyKYCtk0nTo7UhEXpzn3vMI9bsyQm2AAUdNbf0T2zg8BXPiqAQT-IOdWOEFXFZR3h4Mlq6dUOnED2BsD/s320/heidi+klum.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428244786192716354" /></div><div>Every awards show, without fail, Heidi Klum wears an eyeshadow color that I think is too light and frosty for her skin tone. This time it's not as bad as years past, and besides, she always looks so happy and smiley, unlike someone we know (AHEM, Calista Flockhart). </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1irHY2lH2SXBjnvLPNTZNb27Td3nF-8oGiplhKrEDarIowguaWjUcD58ASukX3Dd-Afuv3SIMvHsm5I9zZRXCRqFQQ7w9YRNNlHRTK0GXr8Vtp69PaB3lPsDk4ecUx84zZudOTzQWAn6/s320/kate+hudson+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428244415949173218" /></div><div>Okay, Kate Hudson. Your makeup is essentially fine, although your lipstick is too frosty and your forehead is a shade too orange. Your hair is also a bit brassy. HOWEVER. Your attitude is hideous. Your overly smug facial expression in this picture is what is commonly referred to as "bitchface". It is all too obvious that you think that you're the hottest thing in town. I have news for you, Kate Hudson. You are a cute girl, but you are a mediocre actress and there is no way in hell that you would be in any way famous if your mother wasn't Goldie Hawn. You were by far the weakest link in the movie <i>Nine</i>. When Fergie, who isn't even an actress, shows you up, it is probably time to go home. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNd2eYxNde8Iws4X93-a6iPCBK_SkVk0rfSnQ5xwZMV6f9fxS7isBNwie0DwQ8nqHwhJ5mCxFMCdRrKgYYn1hEUsJ1TmyTNwSQWdtoxxJ3XtTlkKaW1c3I8SkPv4Vm0x9PSnKCMyuc36L6/s320/fergie+golden+globes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428243772172705618" /></div><div>Speaking of Fergie-Ferg, I can no longer hold my silence. Fergie looked very, very pretty last night. I never noticed how blue her eyes are; the gorgeous color of her dress really made them pop. But did she look happy? Far from it. Homegirl looked MISERABLE, not to mention way too skinny. Also, please observe this picture of her and her cheating scumbag of a husband. </div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSsULuMDycecnl8KmX_VAzwNRQK2Ue-1-0iEvgrcqJm8E9T2pa07xufabd0d7_Ri043AvuUAbh4j01oIr1hU3UFIoSMuHCjf4YQ3H1SnRsAX71bW9T6jpR0Pw5An5rwPYzQZOIb6cKqSMu/s320/fergie+josh+duhamel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428243345154478818" /></div><div>I'm sorry, but if that's not a fake smile I don't know what is. You are better than this, Fergie. You are famous for such musical masterpieces as "Where Is The Love", "Boom Boom Pow", "Let's Get It Started", "Pump It", "My Humps", and of course, "Fergalicious". It actually blows my mind how many hits you have had. He is famous for "Win a Date with Todd Hamilton!" LEAVE HIS SORRY ASS. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaYJ0OxwkwVG-RkLuSz4yJhygexuTig34u3vcsyi_jC7hBixh8Fe0lvZeHovHnBSJ52ERzc7sscDbhFKezC1RUd66o0pHThy59FkeabcgnefcsHUaXF8WVodLGB5qBOl0NM8EHso7DOnb/s320/nicole+kidman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428242927582569602" /></div><div>You're so right, Nicole Kidman. We should ALL be saluting, because your return to red hair is the best news I've heard in a long time. It looks absolutely stunning and so much more natural than that icky blonde. Can you please adopt Lindsay Lohan? I think you would be a great influence on her. Wouldn't that be great, you guys? Nicole would gently but firmly push Lindsay to hone her acting craft, and she would finally live up to the potential that we always knew she had, and maybe in a few years she could star in <i>Moulin Rouge 2: Christian and Satine Totally Had A Love Child </i>or something along those lines. Also, I love the color of your dress. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt9UFfhRc48zfyyptu9kYotrsCM38VeCJ7NdiiU4LOv-Qo3OxMXAmjyIoOFu1lVJoC8PNgaPq1hCZAm41qyrFr0LK8h2mjMss5nLUG7EhOzVGTfFo7A_P2Sfqn8mU1phHYiKb5NPn8jh37/s320/marion+cotillard.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428242395767459794" /></div><div>In my opinion, Marion Cotillard had the most daring makeup of the night. It's always a risk to focus more on the bottom lashline than the top. That soft blue eyeshadow is a very pretty color. Do I think that she would have looked even better if the top line had been equally thick? Yes, I do. But I cannot deny that she looks stunning and I applaud her for consistently taking risks in her makeup and fashion choices (although her fashion risk tonight was not quite as successful). </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoIh7yqa-kKXqRzpEbLx2iCS-Rqg_ydqrBdEJxX4FEVZNi8H0lW4otluR4aT7tZqkNPzLAnuS9qrb4zBhe3ROFDuwTBah3qbRW0yuOzF7dQLLYg8kYnmtPGzDO1IZGmcmCl_cJ4ZtB-xhQ/s320/gabourey-sidibe-2010-golden-globe-awards-red-carpet-01.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428241820656210786" /></div><div>Again, I did not see Precious. But I have read several interviews of its star, Gabourey Sidibe, and I am astounded by her self-assurance and maturity. I was particularly delighted by this quote: "People trip over themselves to tell me I'm beautiful. It's cute. It's cute, but I'm not buying it. I'm beautiful now because you can buy a ticket to see me on a screen? I was beautiful before."* PREACH, Gabourey. She is indeed beautiful, which is why I was so frustrated when I saw this picture of her. In no way does this dress do her justice. It reminds me of a Project Runway challenge where the designers had to dress ordinary women, and the whining was ENDLESS. Designers, if you don't know how to design well for women over size zero, you are probably not a very good designer. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB88RZLGmFU6XqUs65R7mwXsJDbCI1xJTUFHzx4litXy_ICswspYfMro13UkfQ2x7TwGxiF6_G1PetGULBNaWxAInQayA0jKBYyrRAdraiN6IJWBgNZAALx5Pyk2SsN3zTzCJN0H_Wlycx/s320/julianne+moore.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428241284736208402" /></div><div>Julianne Moore, I love it when you wear emeralds. Maybe some lipstick next time?</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuNa6HBM-_rQHysIEZ_cHS-Y85PfgnSnOA9v7Wkl__FcbW8AnmPdcAUuJq5OK15LHAft1RUbdHGWPcfgDbUR86aeR4_E0bMiydxRN-IIXP7s1zzBUBvcV-eQ_nZgDgfd2aPJ83NR3dQMX/s320/olivia+wilde.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428240769993935650" /></div><div>I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Olivia Wilde had the best makeup of the night. She looks incredibly sexy without a hint of sleaze. Fantastic eyeliner, great choice of lipcolor. Now if only I knew who she was. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Finally, I have compiled the pictures of all of the celebrities (Mariah Carey, Penelope Cruz, Leona Lewis) who might have looked fine if they hadn't tanned themselves to a color that I believe Crayola calls "burnt sienna". Queridos, I appreciate that these women are fake-tanning rather than actually tanning. Sun damage is the single greatest cause of damage to skin. I wear sunscreen every single day and I encourage all of you to do the same. But until fake-tanning technology has developed to the extent that the orange color is no longer an issue, just say no, queridos. </div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_XOlrM8IQY3XXq0bVnUXOS0u2t7upXY0XqFr9p79tSb5uivf_3pkHcOQFIZPmLguWdkd_F6B2c2VUq426RfXfu18ZiHZnZG2ZOFqG8nolH_eegPRLKKFpXkC5hC1QwvYvxag27mY_ZOa/s320/mariah+carey.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428238681700636658" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmeRHa-Qqb8u_BYKs2Xq6Q4WmnwKw6iZZclWqEhAZBeTU_gAjZ3oPeVPRHoFFnsTWdZJDJ7H0RtWKSslzvu-mplFg06jDLCn3sKv09fWUZOjMhevo6gqS_1-n11cLt9_KfZhp1sEm-yqx/s320/penelope+cruz.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428238059798397874" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eSa3m4Y5sxIoq3RgCBDewlkN1ykmL7MtNU-r9qF2khc-NzEkbVdlAG_z3IGlx64Oi9P34uOOdVj7mxdxyumZtuMsHUUM4Nf-gku-e0vN7xkMlopOP0AuRMax3c9XT2Qh1T2dnW8VRQFo/s320/leona+lewis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428237247562505618" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>* Gabourey Sidibe quote is from jezebel.com. </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>All photos are from http://justjared.buzznet.com/. </i></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-31612325526496355132010-01-17T13:03:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:03:37.268-08:00D&G Fragrance Anthology<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdNhnecgXGasvRinqzrX2VRtOE7RHqWsu3AAZh_UHNi9xIsozXEAP0Dcd1kKJIZg7c3G73rNLkKlW6vKYdmUSD0Gxs7rPrNvsHFe3spOl_csafNNqqv0L2bvt1karNU3pBBbC0Msnocgv/s1600-h/naomi.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdNhnecgXGasvRinqzrX2VRtOE7RHqWsu3AAZh_UHNi9xIsozXEAP0Dcd1kKJIZg7c3G73rNLkKlW6vKYdmUSD0Gxs7rPrNvsHFe3spOl_csafNNqqv0L2bvt1karNU3pBBbC0Msnocgv/s320/naomi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427891317022526082" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><br /></span></div> </span>Queridos, let us have a moment of silence for my friend M's makeup, which suffered a terrible death the other day. I cannot tell you exactly what happened, but it involves a lacrosse player who was apparently never properly potty-trained. Needless to say, the makeup could not be salvaged. So yesterday I accompanied M to Sephora to replace her makeup, and while I was there I used my Beauty Insider status to score samples of the new Dolce & Gabbana "Fragrance Anthology". These are five new fragrances that the dashing Dolce and Gabbana say are inspired by various tarot cards. I've been fairly excited about these, mostly because the advertisements feature Naomi Campbell and as far as I am concerned that woman can do no wrong. Seriously, she could throw her cell phone straight into my head and all I would notice is how graceful her arm movements are.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The Dolce & Gabbana brand is responsible for one of the best selling fragrances of all time, Light Blue, which came out in 2001 and remains Sephora's second bestseller nine years later. With its airy "granny smith apple" note, Light Blue is the great-grandmother of the hundreds of "fresh" women's fragrances that grace department store counters today. I regret to inform you, dear readers, that in terms of appeal (and probably success, but time will tell), there is nary a Light Blue to be found among these five new fragrances.<div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>1 Le Bateleur</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL4zhUYR-S4sF2dwm36TccY7gHvnC3dDcPe2Fk01GjSzHy_2oqb70fJMVrG-2K7ZoTcdaHGzMNeG6fPeaSwHEeaRQrfsAQjqSCVUzDOoOaUyH6_l1GmSkDxSBAcKrr9FTQCh-ryNx4cENN/s320/1+la+bateleur.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427891142849446178" /></div><div>The D&G website states that Le Bateleur is intended for "a man who gets what he wants." If what this man wants is to smell like slightly spicy cardboard, then I must agree. Le Bateleur opens with some very generic aquatic notes coupled with standard woodiness stemming from cedarwood. Even the website doesn't attempt to identify those top notes, simply referring to them as "an aquatic heart." This lasts for about three minutes before breaking down into straight-up cardboard. Oh, I should mention that this fragrance is also intended for an "accomplished Mediterranean seducer." In my humble opinion, it has more in common with "The Situation", one of the Italian-American "guidos" on MTV's Jersey Shore. Despite the testosterone radiating from his fake-tanned, over-gelled body, The Situation has yet to achieve anything even vaguely resembling success with a woman. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDOY0Zydgex1GTG0ofs7l8jM9mXPKyg5i-GfFY1cY_y6kx4AqDFqTpfhpB7QgPyZ739flz3KZt1E-3ADDNVm8XThwag65GFV05hdZe_YrJP3rmIu7cix4688zNADP-K-N7unt_m4O6rCqd/s320/the+situation.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427886475365457362" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>I don't think you were quite what D&G was going for, Situation. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>3 L'Imperatrice</b></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvnc6qsy5ezRewD55QdTNZtO5vaZhx4rYKSfA8L97yB8fZ4vDV-V_LdRfCJZ3JhI62gASCdqt2XmoGLHDnRCgdQrvqU2HUhd5JfnpaUWO8jf8xaLUslu03zXvNRs28WaNfZatmCbVBhtgz/s320/3+.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427885725994929042" /></div><div>D&G tells us that "for L'Imperatrice, life is a movie and she is its heroine." From this description you imagine an Old Hollywood style perfume, something with personality. L'Imperatrice is very pleasant, probably the most enjoyable of the five, but to declare it full of personality would be a stretch. It has a bit of a SweetTart vibe, with a watermelon note providing the sweetness and a kiwi note the tartness. A very nice fruity fragrance (the kiwi note was quite realistic), but still not quite of the caliber I would have expected from Dolce and Gabbana. L'Imperatrice would not be out of place in, for example, the Harajuku Lovers line. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>6 L'Amoureux</b></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHDQ1iJMvq2or2v0vJkoJtcrldPM-iDs9AmXxaol4gVEp4cUFv_y6hmkXIDMnN0ZFrWCsZMRm_U75P62LiqweaSv6EXUsYNAErkvwU0-D7YSNdZmkSIuMkVpCt9Dop4sjCUo3b6Jgdk7_/s320/6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427885221548669714" /></div><div>L'Amoureux supposedly possesses the power to "[melt] the most cynical of hearts." Just off the top of my head, I'm pretty sure I can think of at least one cynical heart that failed to melt. Citrusy at the beginning with bergamot, generic "pink pepper" spiciness- not a terrible start. However, this fragrance soon becomes quite a bit sweeter than a men's fragrance has any right to be. You know, the guys really got the short end of the stick with this whole Fragrance Anthology thing. None of these fragrances seem to have been all that well thought out, but the two men's fragrances are particularly weak.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b> 10 La Roue de la Fortune</b></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcy_aCCBbhDG803ZUv3lSn051btH2YIGVHajzaeaJt3z9BtrIOIva3NxBscsxsVEo9lNjU-tM9I26-eCJ5zThBmgNO3sfz9MVw9-XIlQOkPDfVHnUwC3yxdMu8L32c8fM0717UOzJrWVJe/s320/10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427884427908534962" /></div><div>Juicy Couture, is your legal team ready? I cannot think of a single valid reason that Juicy should not sue over "La Roue de la Fortune", which is a shameless clone of all three of Juicy's women's fragrances. La Roue de la Fortune begins its life as Couture Couture, the newest Juicy fragrance. This means that it smells like white grape juice. Suddenly the tuberose-and-patchouli combination rears its head, and at this point it is absolutely indistinguishable from the original Juicy Couture. Eventually it settles down into Viva La Juicy, which I have always found to be much too sweet. Of the five fragrances, La Roue de la Fortune undoubtedly has the most personality. It is also a total copycat and is so unbearably sweet that it somehow feels less elegant than the Juicy fragrances it emulates. The Juicy bottles are also much cuter, so I recommend buying the real thing. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>18 La Lune</b></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRTxB_AGtttz96BOEe1do0tgCS3gu9K5mX6g-VLv0j6FMsmQnRfZDswoIt6puESzW46rf_Nz0DEVPtSZ7SYYzHQxkLd8MrFholZoZqEPfPWOn0jWlyahhvrwCOqLBazQFllzQ4tZtblwm/s320/18.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427884003031659282" /></div><div>La Lune is far from the "perfect enigma" D&G would like you to believe it is. In fact, it is simply another copycat. After the pretty lily topnotes fade away after about five minutes, the tuberose note in La Lune makes it eerily similar to Velvet Tuberose, a fragrance from Bath and Body Works. This is not good news for D&G, but if you like La Lune, it's good news for you! Velvet Tuberose is all of $5.</div></div></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-20963994301061256882010-01-09T13:25:00.001-08:002010-01-22T02:03:57.172-08:00Classic, hilarious Hillary: http://www.nbc.com/saturday-night-live/video/clips/palin-hillary-open/1087850/<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfoIUsFoORNlWrcFyLntyfKOjJUI7ZfSUh6mWtAr7chrZJjLzwUpxdl3PENHSfqxM0GWiTzUSSkc2XXXq1IaqWfAZBXMB4CeGYWrBSA_0Lx4Cs2bemNicM_hOaBnPu7tH_awCoNiFHs-6/s1600-h/hillary.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfoIUsFoORNlWrcFyLntyfKOjJUI7ZfSUh6mWtAr7chrZJjLzwUpxdl3PENHSfqxM0GWiTzUSSkc2XXXq1IaqWfAZBXMB4CeGYWrBSA_0Lx4Cs2bemNicM_hOaBnPu7tH_awCoNiFHs-6/s320/hillary.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424890052432862946" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>2008 was a difficult year for me, queridos. While I now sing the praises of President Obama and his lovely family, during the primaries I was ferociously pro-Hillary. Of course I was disappointed when it became clear that we would not have a female president, but these days I think that the role of Madame Secretary suits her even better. Fun fact: Hillary was confirmed in February of 2009. By October, she had already visited over 30 countries as secretary of state*. Condoleezza Rice visited 83 over her entire career**. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>But anyway, every morning of 2008 I would walk into my very liberal Jewish high school and be taunted with "Obama won [insert state here]!", and eventually, "Why doesn't she just drop out now?" I would defend her honor as best I could, then curl up in my various Clinton 2008 apparel and tell myself that they just didn't know Hillary like I did. <div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3xtIrG48U96Qf9mRpPCNGm_Ov2gpTDOicZOgxB6TUVAXgWGYJmcwvGm94UEIrZ8m2SeWDhnmNW6W0JWTr6MhrcEoFzolTS3Br8JW4yDx8_H_XZhV6TsSr3saH2Bd7bSkwj9FbXDAh0Bi/s320/hillary_clinton.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424889597349984130" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hillary, your true colors are beautiful, like a raiiiinbow</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Back in 2008 I was often told that Hillary was "manipulative", "scheming", "a frigid bitch", etc. When people first said these kinds of things to me I was nothing short of shocked. It had honestly never occurred to me that there could be people who did not like Hillary Clinton. I had always found her so delightful, this passionate, devastatingly intelligent force of nature. In the fantastic movie Dogma, The Metatron (God's messenger) describes God as "lonely, but funny!" I have always thought that this description fit Hillary peculiarly well. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Hillary is known to wear Thierry Mugler Angel, created in 1992 by Oliver Cresp. To understand why this is hilarious, you need to know a little bit about Angel. Angel was the very first modern gourmand, a fragrance category describing perfumes that smell edible (and by "edible", I mean that gourmands smell like a dessert, not like a steak). It was monstrously successful, and there is a very good reason that I use the word "monstrous". Angel is scary. It smells like a giant fell into a vat of patchouli, then ate an entire Godiva store. It goes through a very brief apricot phase before settling down into cotton candy. If I have not made it clear enough, Angel is teeth-destroyingly sweet and WMD-levels of strong. No need to worry about North Korea, you guys! Just make sure they know how many bottles of Angel we have here in the US. They wouldn't dare try anything. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMvyhFNn8AANuQlPXIeB8LsTaspkLm5gj6wI6fhJdCO0lDR4B-ecGYhR1W1NxYDHbKtRmCkaKVMGpi5awk2MzQmjqTNn1HAfOdIB1GdpwIuouUu86hznbr1bqssLl1mQHPiVStYm6OnCm/s320/angel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424888736277410034" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Angel is absolutely perfect for Hillary in two ways. First, while Angel may be sweet, it is also a very, very powerful fragrance, spectacularly ballsy. I imagine that Angel's <i>cojones</i> appeal to Hillary, as her own (metaphorical) set is much bigger than most mens'. Second, people often forget that Hillary has a very, very good sense of humor. Angel is the olfactory equivalent of her famous cackle. As deliciously trashy as an episode of America's Next Top Model, so sugary (some would say sickeningly) sweet that Thierry Mugler once declared it should inspire one to "devour the person you love"***, Angel is about as far from Hillary's "frigid bitch" public persona as possible. Can you really imagine Hillary, in her full headband-and-pantsuit glory, smelling like cotton candy? It's as incongruous as Marilyn Monroe wearing the somewhat frumpy Chanel No 5, and just as genius. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQF3rClFGLatcyB4-SWBjXM5CTMMp7SPUdbkPA9FczgKml7e7KAHFFIDnmRrT-V7JgAnIAH3UY7BC_k6Fk5LeTk2GNLUhdf2KxAawujrwDYuQIP_VAaxIKB7l5Ues2-IevUErtUls1WKm/s320/hillary+clinton.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424887934725195282" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Disclaimer: I received a humongous sample of Angel by asking the lady at Nordstrom to give me one. I will never, ever, ever need this much Angel in my life.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">*http://www.vogue.com/feature/2009_December_Jonathan_Van_Meter_Profile_of_Hillary_Clinton/</div><div style="text-align: left;">**http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Condoleezza_Rice%27s_tenure_as_Secretary_of_State</div><div style="text-align: left;">*** "Pretty: The Nylon Book of Beauty"</div></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-61758618667824870562010-01-07T10:52:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:04:33.422-08:00The Perfume of Feminists<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Hola, queridos! The other day I braved the Baltimore Sephora just to test new perfumes for you. You guys, the Baltimore Sephora is a very scary place. The saleswomen are mad grumpy and very unknowledgeable and they get even grumpier when it becomes clear that you know more about their products than they do. Then they glare at you like they JUST KNOW that you are about to steal their precious perfume about which they are completely unknowledgeable. Sephora in general seems to be having some problems with people stealing perfume, as all of the perfume is now kept behind plastic boxes, but come on, lady. Am I really going to risk some jail time for a bottle of Paris Hilton's finest?<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7f_o6M4LnM0oP3_Yujln66nL-9BtyHx5KrxXuSzy2Wdk-glokUOm2mj2wO6_zVMCXiWkvrKfs1k0GNaS0yvS4HlnY5WiKQirn18rlwPn-0Bv5vdiCL4hEIIp5993HUgpxFNwh1YBDKfgb/s320/paris-hilton-fairy-dust-perfume-ad-print.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424096134494102818" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The answer is no, Baltimore Sephora lady. The answer is no.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, so while I was at the Baltimore Sephora, I was looking mostly at the new releases. Marc Jacobs Lola? ADORABLE bottle, but the perfume itself was completely unimpressive. The new Ed Hardy perfume? Finally, I can achieve my long-cherished dream of smelling like Jon Gosselin. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtxRJL9bsPTx8XMSe0bmVo9b3o4lBYM-AMy77N4et4xyErM936xuQPK5B2CiAjJmn_Ql9Pw344IIhyDmIglcyx_wWG-rMwxRPt2AOqm6CCe6wsfUPs6PGE-wpNUP3Eh6O2TQshkDEz4it/s320/jongosselin_edhardy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424095941838673890" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Eau de I hope you can afford the therapy costs for eight children.</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> And then there was the </span>new Kim Kardashian perfume. Y'all, I am ashamed to tell you that I actually could not bring myself to smell this. Does everyone here understand why Kim Kardashian is famous? I will tell you. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Kim Kardashian is famous for three things. The first is for being the daughter of attorney Robert Kardashian, the man who got O.J. Simpson off the hook for (I have been advised to add the word ALLEGEDLY here) killing his wife and her alleged boyfriend. O.J. Simpson is HER GODFATHER, you guys. The second is for having a sex tape. The third is for being bootylicious. Perhaps I have not made this particularly clear, but I am very much a rabid feminist. As in, you will contract rabies if I bite you. I went to two Hillary rallies while she was still in the running, and I have very, very strong opinions on why women such as Kim Kardashian and Jessica Simpson- two very pretty and entertaining women who have more in the way of boobs than brain cells- are destroying feminism. Yeah, I said it. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 269px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rdQ0XjSZvFQlyRpecrZPXKRUPXx0RT-qu5HDP9MKX0rqAP2Pzq9nnQ3Tr-OgwfZsMlDkwr6idZUDRWujaNzLHahGpUkxe_5q5_AJWzNtAtszW6Yp9fi0ZTHvO8WwooKh2-rdoOwRYDBz/s320/kim+kardashian.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424095389934531618" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">OH MY GOD, KARDASHIAN. PUT IT AWAY.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Ladies, you do not need to be a porn star. You do not need to have a sex tape. You do not need to play dumb. The kind of men that you attract with this behavior are not the kind that you should want. Are Kim Kardashian and Jessica Simpson happily married? Far from it, and by the way, both women turn 30 this year. Not a week goes by that the tabloids don't cheerfully report on how Jessica just got dumped by John Mayer or Tony Romo or some other nogoodnik. You guys. We have J. Lo, Beyonce, and that stripper chick that Kanye West insists on dating to satisfy our national appetite for bootyliciousness. We do not need Kim Kardashian. Let her go. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguU3LnLZrejO9jOYKoBA7f8pZUzZlhvqn91CJO2JCK_2KQ_c7m4Vu9UovdfkpLsBOlRqv_oshSAiVE-6s99MON00-GIbH_CcGCb41cFxMMP2CLSapzByDdvUAIwl7C6ExtvAjBnmY3L6tn/s320/jennifer_lopez_butt.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424095138462063522" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Much like Cinnabons and Indiana Jones, the original is still the best.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The point to what seems to have turned into a very long rant is that I tested many new perfumes at the Baltimore Sephora and was unimpressed by the vast majority of them. However, exactly one new perfume line did stand out to me. They're actually not exactly new, having been out for two years or so, but just go with it. I'm referring to the Harajuku Lovers line, 5 perfumes created by Gwen Stefani. Now, I am very much down with Gwen. Anyone who sings a cover of "If I Were A Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof is pretty much my hero. I also think that Gwen is a far better role model for girls than the women I mentioned above. She writes fantastic music (including the girl power anthem, "Just A Girl"), shows off her great style rather than her sexuality, got married BEFORE having kids, and has an adorable and highly successful clothing/accessories/perfume line. Are you taking notes, Kardashian?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX69s0MeN9NNrqlq3wkengbJm1VVQrYDuaxOD2_RufEmOSjbwDHQ-q93oh1AUrgFArgcTurhYDk7QeK45UF8IV3dNGyptYjhPnuBDVA4G7jzeiZn4ZBfJhQNKuLFX574GJmBHyzz61oB6l/s320/gwen+rich+girl+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424094838084574306" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">From the "Rich Girl" music video. Because if Gwen Stefani were a rich girl, she would be a pirate. I think that we can all agree that is awesome. </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now, onto the perfumes themselves. I did try all five, and I am very happy to review them all at some point, but frankly this review has become considerably longer than I had intended. For this reason, I will only discuss the best one, which is called "G" and is meant to represent Ms. Stefani herself. First of all, the bottle is the cutest thing that I have ever seen in my life. Words cannot do it justice: you'll just have to see the picture.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73kJqUUhZiASuh0YJ0S5WsL3SfLEyskUdlC10fzFpxJ3dqgzM6kY4CflBR5nTUwXoTBSugyXtDYuo8_3FRJ7NWsL9q2LPO7QVZkwPSSzLIH_0i7GAUqk_5rCIAlAzi82hEgpJIr0N_5eZ/s320/harajuku+lovers+g.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424094523824060946" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>See? See? So freaking cute! The other four perfumes are housed in equally cute bottles, but G is the only one of the five where what's inside the bottle is anywhere near as nice as the outside. G is a very, very enjoyable combination of coconut and apple skin. There are other notes (mandarin orange, freesia, sandalwood) but those are the only two that I can smell. The apple skin note is unexpected and adds a lovely freshness to the very milky-smelling coconut. G is pretty much the opposite of sophisticated, but it smells great and would be perfect for lying on the beach in the summertime.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now, about the pricing. G is currently only available in 1 ounce bottles that cost $45. To put this in perspective, 1.2 ounces of Chanel No. 5 costs $50. $45 is quite unreasonable for a simple little perfume like G. HOWEVER. Every winter and summer, the very wise Ms. Stefani repackages these perfumes in the appropriate seasonal apparel (bikinis for the summer, big jackets for the winter... and you thought those bottles couldn't get any cuter!) and sells them in 10 ml bottles (one third of an ounce). Since G is best suited to warmer weather anyway, I recommend holding off until the summer.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOkBkcm3pD-2FcXaT7ENL5PMX1IdX9H-O21JGv3ZL0D713HMcpE6eWX6eRGCn5hsJbWIVLRLUopj9yy_VE1gwZrAkHl8cT-aMh0P3mYJ3N1-8SDhyphenhyphenH4HP_ZyRxH72IxyU4K6mpl8zf4GFo/s320/g+summer+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424093814415770898" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Do you see those flowers in her hair??? I can't handle the cuteness!</span></i></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-27649988212450873662010-01-04T21:30:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:04:52.691-08:00The Perfume of Royalty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmE3tRSKf_-BA6A5v5EjSGx-HED2Fgd66J4F4st4RxjfFZfFNVvYe0WuSDxECPb89UIArENXnc7U5nrauFYlW5Q0Q9uaTtIZTz1jfAH2ek9WUcXdvINVdsrXIkHXIiBWxyzYnmHVZ1p75/s1600-h/rita_hayworth_x750.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmE3tRSKf_-BA6A5v5EjSGx-HED2Fgd66J4F4st4RxjfFZfFNVvYe0WuSDxECPb89UIArENXnc7U5nrauFYlW5Q0Q9uaTtIZTz1jfAH2ek9WUcXdvINVdsrXIkHXIiBWxyzYnmHVZ1p75/s320/rita_hayworth_x750.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423443205241863826" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Queridos, do you know the story of Rita Hayworth? Before Jessica Alba, before Penelope Cruz, before Salma Hayek, there was Rita Hayworth, a stunning and talented Spanish actress/dancer from the 1940's. Hollywood had no place for Latinas in Rita's time; she, along with the equally fascinating Mexican actress Dolores Del Rio, helped to pave the way for the beautiful women that I mentioned above. <div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Well, maybe except for Ms. Jessica "Don't Call Me Hispanic" Alba. Jess- may I call you Jess? Great- what exactly are you trying to accomplish by saying things like, "As a third-generation American, I feel as if I have finally cut loose [from her Mexican heritage]"? Listen, lady. You're not exactly Meryl Streep. Hell, you're not even a Jessica Biel. You have one thing and one thing only going for you, and that is your looks. And I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your admittedly impressive looks owe an awful lot to those Mexican roots that you try so hard to hide. That white-girl impression you're doing in the following picture is sad and frankly scary. Rita Hayworth didn't bust her butt fighting Latino stereotypes so that you could act a fool. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVirkkT5jJnYZ880WyocOgPn_9fQ8QHPpIZukNfJ8Zgsy22-IQ3x4PrERAUWJlBjuB5ckvCcccqlrhY1cNuunI5Z_AxvDcXK7rYWyn4TV5_MGNGIkrU7eSYbFvsMzjLZhutTt-Ecv3XTcm/s320/jessica+alba+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423442395364068130" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT, Y'ALL. Blue contacts?? Really, Alba?</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Where were we? Rita Hayworth defined the word "Bombshell"- a poster of Miss Hayworth was stuck onto the first nuclear bomb to be tested after World War Two. Rita famously said, "Whatever you write about me, don't make it sad." As much as I wish that I could respect her wishes, what I have to tell you about her life is very sad indeed. Despite her indisputable sex appeal, Rita was divorced five times; four out of the five divorces were filed on the grounds of "cruelty", both mental and physical. Her biography, "If This Was Happiness: A Biography of Rita Hayworth", alleges that she was sexually abused as a child by her father. Why do I bring up Rita Hayworth today? Rita was known to wear Lanvin <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span>, the complex and sensual perfume that I will be reviewing today. Like the legendary Hayworth, <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span> projects a sex appeal that is devastating in every sense of the word. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqwMMje3A48sTicVzkQchrWN7_pOBXAFrKsUSQ9sTGqzxND6yUI4kkfGmLq55MJwP-wj-XnCwho01sPBDVoBcsvH0IWzTGigz_qEjMvwyIFWAszLHCoF0EA-Kl4DnB0fh4Rw7fcSaOWBeY/s320/lanvin_arpege.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423441981685828738" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Much like Chanel Coco, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Arpège</span></span></span> begins by giving us the grand tour of Jasmine City (with brief stopovers in Rose Town and Geranium Village). There are, however, substantial differences between the two perfumes. Where Coco can be loud and borderline garish (very much an '80s perfume), <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span> is extremely soft. Where Coco seduces with a bold laugh that can be heard across the room, <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span> seduces with a whisper. If Coco were Victoria's Secret, all padding and push-ups, <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span> would be a more sophisticated, high-end brand like La Perla. Eventually, the jasmine transitions into lily of the valley and sandalwood. At this point you look up from all that La Perla and realize that <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège </span>also has a very lovely face. The base is extremely appealing, pure sandalwood all the way down. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I am honestly not a huge fan of jasmine and have never really understood why it is considered a "sexy" note in perfues. In <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span>, I concede that the jasmine is very sexy indeed. Despite all of this sexiness, <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span> remains very tasteful. Rita Hayworth was famous for refusing to do nude scenes in her movies; <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span> has a similar seductive-but-not-revealing quality. You'd never catch <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:medium;">Arpège</span> cavorting about on a pole like Miley Cyrus. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpZkxrybpvFP8tpqbECSUOrZuGxjLxf6_PWLDCyx3mXtCWq7LJGO2J5xk7rjSKcx5Z-_XKGXwgYiWCrYeKPIoTmPCo8fboLXz08fUXgUR7q_6pVyP321Uv0C2Fhm7a8X-YmDQmNvekKOL/s320/miley-cyrus-pole-dancing-teen-choice-awards-06.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423440898908659042" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Miley, do the words "role model" ring a bell? No? Okay then.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">As smitten as I am with <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-size:medium;">Arpège</span>, I do not frequent it. This may be because I associate it with beautiful women who led undeservedly tragic lives (Princess Diana also wore it). Regardless, <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-size:medium;">Arpège <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; font-size:16px;">is a magnificent perfume, one worthy of the royalty who wore it. </span></span></span></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-60990868320875645472009-12-30T19:54:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:06:53.749-08:00Happy New Year!!!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Happy New Year, queridos! I hope that your New Years involved champagne and was more exciting than mine. I'm not really sure how that's possible, considering that I went to a "pirate show" with my parents, little brother, grandparents, and cousins. Actually, the six packs on those pirates were so impressive that it might as well have been a Chippendale's show. And from this point onward, that is how we are going to say that I spent New Year's Eve.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_P0otqPWrAw1oBJ0SzsYd-7B9fUgyncj3eKWwJXQfY1PyVmEAf30Nb6iyZienkPhL_HeNalY468gOPRr4iy86W2kbdR8o-mqQgAthKRnrs4lwdATYUxEgxJ8fud0XNCRUrkzyEjg7fpkL/s320/orlandobloom.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421901176365378498" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Oh, Orlando. You can shiver my timbers anytime. </i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, y'all, although I know (desperately hope) that in the future there will be more of you, at the present time I have exactly one reader who is not my mother. I love this girl deeply, but it has also come to my attention that she does not wear perfume, and therefore she has trouble relating to many of the perfume related posts. I love perfume. I love the clever tricks that perfumers employ to create new and pleasing combinations of notes; I love the nuances. However, I fully understand that for many people, perfume has no nuances. A perfume either smells good or it doesn't. It is for my beloved solitary reader that I will try to explain the world of perfume in terms of a field with which most people much more familiar: literature. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>For example, a perfume like Aquolina PINK freakin' SUGAR is the olfactory equivalent of the Twilight series- insanely popular for absolutely no good reason.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ucrcQkjt24Cl9CxzCmznpmSAfHM4BRhDLCSN9I25LsV7sWAIeTlMd5ibAmZLX892tB2ZwG11ITfu7bkzdAE1Tzvrelmkmnxt30FGcutffcvnhcL4gZggDdjScE9kRsbS1eP36-UjFEp9/s320/taylor-lautner-shirtless.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421900184307922978" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Actually, I just thought of one VERY good reason.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Chanel Coco Mademoiselle and Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue (both of which have been bestsellers for over five years) have more in common with the Harry Potter series- just as popular, but more deserving of their success. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvH9vzfhKzND3KLiTenQEWapjHi5zZCKFDjQEXvnX359pQqkRVb944Qw5alBQ5TrSx-9tbJ5J1tatZ9LAc4zGn-BnbYsV1TXVDZsrl31iJ4bUZymic-xGMKizdlbhYo26gW5aNEE1Ein2c/s320/oliver+wood.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421899710823343010" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor quidditch coach. The actor who plays him is named Sean Biggerstaff. The joke here should write itself. </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Along this vein, there are perfumes such as Robert Piguet Fracas, which has been worn by everyone from Marilyn Monroe to Madonna to Martha Stewart. I can appreciate that Fracas is a great classic, but whenever I try to wear it I get the distinct feeling that I am being mugged by a gardenia. I got a very similar feeling when I had to read Jane Eyre in 10th grade, except instead of a gardenia my mugger was the stupidest book of all time. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMckaSxZVxwfSmuAh0LqjtijFoH2W-krUudaAuTRBN6EBfAPJCveZ5d_-mSQMeO2i9yDFkCqZf95BojpDpLgTc0Fcq3IQ2k-JiqWfu8DubBlPyrZB5udlUvjq8J6eWTn-Gg4kjHs68MX46/s320/jane+eyre.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421899082871175970" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i>Jane, that Mr. Rochester is nothing but trouble! </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i>Why don't you marry that nice cousin of yours? You know, the priest. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i>No? Okay then. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i>Also, what is UP with those BROWS, lady??</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Perfumes such as Chanel No. 5 and Guerlain Shalimar can be likened to "The Great Gatsby," a book that is both widely beloved and a masterpiece (and one of my personal favorites, if you hadn't figured it out yet). Those "Warm Vanilla Sugar" body splashes you can get at Bath and Body Works correspond to guilty pleasure reading, like trashy romance novels or (in my case) JHU Confessions, the Gossip Girl of Johns Hopkins. It is incredibly sad how addicted I am to this website, but how else would I know whether Hopkins students prefer "an Ugly who's awesome in bed or a Cutie who's totally lacking"? (General consensus is the Cutie, if there was ever any doubt in your mind.)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There are books, such as pretty much anything that Allen Ginsberg (author of the incredible but frankly depressing poems "Howl", "Kaddish", and many others) ever wrote, which I find fascinating but too disturbing to read all that often. Creed Love in Black is a good perfume match for these kinds of books. It evokes a patch of violets growing in a forest where dark things lurk. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Finally, we have the books that we read over and over again, our favorites, the ones that changed the way we see the world. A few of mine are: <i>The Mists of Avalon </i>by Marion Zimmer Bradley, <i>Woman Hollering Creek </i>by Sandra Cisnernos, <i>Wide Sargasso Sea </i>by Jean Rhys, and my absolute favorite of all time, <i>Leaves of Grass </i>by Walt Whitman. These books correspond to the perfumes that we wear every day, with which we and others identify ourselves. Mine are Bond No. 9 New Haarlem, Frederic Malle Lipstick Rose, and Chanel No. 5. My hope is that even if perfume plays no role in your life now, reading this blog will help you to see it as a form of art just like a painting or a symphony. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>By the way, y'all, I forgot to mention that the FTC (Federal Trade Commission) has guidelines concerning blogger endorsements. Basically, if a company sends me free samples or pays me money to write a good review, I have to let you know. All of the perfumes that I have reviewed thus far I have either bought from Sephora or tested in stores. But in the immortal words of Biggie, "I gotta let it show, I love the dough". I am a college student who does not currently have any time to work and therefore has no source of income. If a company did send me free samples or something to review, I would not turn them down. However, I can promise you this: I will never write a review that a product does not deserve. Pink Sugar has no glowing reviews in its future no matter how much money Aquolina tries to throw at me. (Although they're certainly welcome to try.)</div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-88274001602341337512009-12-26T18:15:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:07:59.186-08:00What was Josh Duhamel Even Famous For Again?<div style="text-align: left;">Merry Belated Christmas, my dear readers! I hope that your Christmases were filled with joy and all-American values. As for myself, I took part in the time-honored Christmas tradition of Jewish families going to the movies because nothing else is open. I saw "Nine", a musical, which I liked quite a bit, although if you ask me Kate Hudson was totally unnecessary, because frankly that woman is obnoxious. I understand that apparently her mother Goldie Hawn was very charming, but as far as I am concerned the only child of a celebrity who is in any way tolerable is Sean Astin, mostly because he autographed my copy of "The Goonies".</div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsStdnq5S1KNWg2WDN8n8NzDEAhBdinWoauPGXVbdPpKFrH4w276H0grxrLjrek8Fjy7NklHhPPyJbnq9BH-U2AHVxpWEmEi4s5TiznI5srSg3lrFjFLm07BLcvphqXqZi9hTr5eJDd_Z9/s320/the+goonies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419751772816824562" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>It looks pretty much like this, except for the part where SEAN ASTIN AUTOGRAPHED IT.</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, I bring up Nine because one of the characters had some pretty fierce makeup action going on. Check up on it:</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutjJ9FhVwouiQ834SpAA990bfmA9R33FkBuIuJowZUgrsZpFi3QD5dE91x4AkBxGXE5FQFqOJhvIzzMqV2sIc9AoVe_HRbHV2yEQXwmIaUD1iruyumCAplfAQZgzJvA76CkuPGWVo7Jhk/s320/fergie+nine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419751544892546514" /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Hmmm, that's actually not exactly the look I was thinking of, Fergie-Ferg, although I did very much enjoy your performance as the town prostitute. It seems only fitting, considering that your husband Josh Duhamel is currently being accused of adultery by/with a number of strippers. FOR SHAME, JOSH DUHAMEL. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fCzAJB8ySy1URjqOPKzYhCDRHnt8-_gonUb5uR-K1odceGL-QHhVPz4q0cEMCrYKmXFdHQEc7JuR6etZCaoTitHdgzXV9r9zv1SWU1sYGxLc_Pk9RCOiCQbKlQmSRXjOP6VSthiq14Rj/s320/josh+duhamel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419749173214322962" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Wipe that smirk off your face, you shmuck. </span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Not that many people know this about me, but I have a somewhat unreasonable love of Fergie-Ferg. This has become sort of an issue with my boyfriend. We'll be in the car, listening to the radio, and a Fergie song will come on. Delighted, I turn the volume up and start singing. He changes the station. I change it back. He changes it again, a little more forcefully. This usually ends with at least one of us in tears.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The main reason for my love is the story of the now-legendary concert where Fergie peed her pants onstage. Let's face it, folks, that is really nothing short of awesome. And to continue to perform even after that? Talk about dedication, which apparently is a concept that her HUSBAND doesn't undestand. SPEAKING OF YOU, JOSH DUHAMEL, Sarah Ferguson is a SAINT. I would go so far as to call her the MOTHER TERESA OF OUR TIME. Feel free to quote me on that one, Ferg. Do not phunk with her heart, Josh Duhamel, or else you will no longer be mixing your milk with her coco puffs, because her lovely lady lumps are in very high demand, if you know what I mean, WHICH I THINK YOU DO. Also, please stop making Fergie so depressed that she makes terrible music. "Meet Me Halfway" is bloody awful. It's like her throat has been comfort eating.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, the real makeup inspiration in Nine was to be found on the very lovely and talented Marion Cotillard. She was working a modified Audrey Hepburn, meaning a relatively thin cat eye combined with strong brows and pink lips. Observe: </div><div><br /><img style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 205px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfcdu_Vkeh3NKMq5rrTOlF46ANqYV2KhnPsgIT1QOCnSoeWXEj28VmVKnrbrbMb-PQG_5IApVbFwBFXL4DMN5msoIbuZLrq3PECaDraTJrFCO6q3xLV4KsSFax_2WZdm-D2MhkJMb53r1/s320/marion+cotillard+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419747430563019442" /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So elegant! So classy! I'm inspired, dear readers, and I will probably be (attempting to) work a similar look in the upcoming weeks. If you're interested in trying it out yourself, I highly recommend the Lancome Artliners. These are the best liquid liners on the market. However, they are vastly expensive at $29, and the liquid liner look can also be a bit harsh at times. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>For these reasons, I also recommend trying gel liners, such as Bobbi Brown Long-Wear Gel Eyeliner (extremely high quality, wide range of colors, $21) or Stila Smudge Pots (much bigger size than Bobbi's, so you're getting more for your money, $20). Both of these are very good; I have worn both brands in the sweltering heat of Israeli summer and had no problems with smudging. Oh, Lancome also has a new line of gel liner, but I do not recommend anything to my readers that I have not tried myself. Gel liners can take a little work to get used to, but the end result is beautiful and looks a bit more modern than liquid liner.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Edit: I am currently trying the Kat Von D Tattoo Liner, which is available at Sephora for $18. Like the Artliners, it has a felt tip. I have had no issues with it. However, the Tattoo Liner actually only contains 0.02 ounces of product, while the Lancome eyeliner contains 0.04. So to get the same amount of product as the Lancome eyeliner, one would actually have to spend $36. If you do not wear liquid liner all that often, then 0.02 ounces may be plenty. </i></div></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-56119533754512101882009-12-23T07:17:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:09:01.128-08:00Brunette Readers: I promise I will stop alienating you after this post<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFh3iE2il7mUIeZabDbMTKcvsFPtcjZMT6cYEf5_ww1aDghTQUuizhtkvWvmcBMJFzrgvUPWZ4hGo1YAe4NPGfYioTSP-X2JVvyLbHnAAmGCj9PJ8y9ESbkKFH6dbYulLwUumm8R08bAUq/s1600-h/chanel+no+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFh3iE2il7mUIeZabDbMTKcvsFPtcjZMT6cYEf5_ww1aDghTQUuizhtkvWvmcBMJFzrgvUPWZ4hGo1YAe4NPGfYioTSP-X2JVvyLbHnAAmGCj9PJ8y9ESbkKFH6dbYulLwUumm8R08bAUq/s320/chanel+no+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418609383626787170" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>We'll be talking about blondes again today. You've probably heard of the movie "The Seven Year Itch." That's the one where the famous picture of Marilyn Monroe with her white dress blowing up in the wind comes from. The name of Marilyn's character in that movie is "The Girl." Maybe she has a name, maybe she has a story, maybe she has something to offer, but no one really cares. All she's allowed to be is "The Girl", a beautiful object onto which others can project what they will. So maybe we're not exactly talking about blondes, but more about women who play "The Girl." It just so happens that a disproportionate number of these women happen to be blonde. "The Dumb Blonde" is just "The Girl" wearing a blonde wig.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Serena van der Woodsen and her many predecessors, including Elle Woods, Daisy Buchanan, and Marilyn Monroe, are examples of beautiful women of great intelligence and substance who frequently played dumb because it was what everyone wanted, because it was easy. Daisy said it best in her famous line from "The Great Gatsby": "That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool." So maybe playing "The Girl" is a betrayal of yourself. It's not like anyone was particularly interested in the "real you" anyway. Marilyn always aspired to be a more "serious" actress, but her more dramatic roles (in movies such as "The Misfits" and "River of No Return") were never nearly as successful as the dumb blonde characters that made her rich, famous, and miserable.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Perhaps you think that Daisy's prophecy might be outdated in a world of Hillary Rodham Clintons and Tina Feys. (BTW, let it be known that I absolutely worship Hillary and fully intend to do a review on her favorite perfume, the ballbusting Angel by Thierry Mugler, sometime soon.) If so, please consider Daisy's modern-day equivalent, Serena. Serena's best friend, Blair Waldorf, is a bit of a Hillary. She's undeniably intelligent, a bit prickly, and the top student at their prestigious high school. Blair has one, all-consuming dream: Yale University. Serena, on the other hand, is considered to be less of an intellectual and more of the lovable whore-next-door. Which one do you think gets into Yale? If you answered "Blair", you have not been listening very closely.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9go2ZKFiACcBrxo1RjkAzZsd3OOt6PrMVAWwCQyj0bdFDFhuSOUzn0FZSeY3Wo_ewVMg-CSlrcYmZhPZaoIiKR-ZY4Apfx8pMQj4P0qNf9cCxuc3zJ4f1uuRNAi3XJWerGa_pFDIhmEN8/s320/blair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418609006228923314" /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Oh, Blair. So close, yet so far. </span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Ever since Marilyn Monroe answered "Just a few drops of Chanel No. 5, of course" to the question of what she wore to bed, she has been the person most closely associated with the world's most famous perfume. However, Marilyn's answer has always been a complete mystery to me. Created in 1921 by Ernest Beaux, Chanel No. 5 is many things- fresh, slightly powdery, golden in personality- but it is absolutely not sexy. Why would Marilyn, whose sex symbol persona endures almost 50 years after her death, have worn a perfume that is so resolutely unseductive? Perhaps her seemingly incongruous perfume choice gives us a glimpse at the person behind the persona. Maybe No. 5 spoke to who Marilyn really was behind the makeup and the body. Of course it's just a theory, but if it were true, then Marilyn's inner self would have been radiant indeed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj1PHRaSZdJatEX7NB8nU8g-5Hxmv8Abl8VUJHc89xotTH5sdvhL_HWl7OLbtru4I170boHBT6GZbQ7_4GNdnckqTRSehDRyAvC-308xV9wOY5CfE4Zb6l2yS7XGsKcxwcLNJ379IwnUO/s320/chanel-no-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418608655620436866" /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Beaux, the perfumer behind No. 5, is said to have been inspired by the fresh smell of the lakes in the Arctic Circle (where he was stationed in World War I). The result is a perfume that evokes a bright sun shining down on these lakes, a warm, golden scent that also somehow smells pure and hopeful. No. 5 is an extremely comforting smell, and I imagine it is this cozy, reassuring aspect that endeared it to Marilyn, who had a notoriously troubled childhood and struggled with schizophrenia and an addiction to prescription drugs as as an adult. Finally we come to the dark side of playing "The Girl." Is Marilyn alive today to enjoy her enormous fame? No. She committed suicide at the age of 36, alone in the bathroom.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I own two bottles of No. 5- a small bottle of vintage parfum from my mother and the Eau de Toilette. Although I know that the parfum is very valuable, I don't wear it as often. It has a very strong indolic jasmine note that I don't much care for. By the way, "indolic" is a synonym for "fecal". You learned a new word today! Wearing No. 5 reminds me that the easy way does not always end well. That there is great danger in allowing oneself to be defined by others, and that it is critical to have a strong sense of self. Actually, I just remembered a very concrete connection between Serena and Marilyn. Last episode, when Maureen, the married congressman's wife, was trying to convince Serena to be the congressman's mistress, she said, "I'll be Jackie and you'll be Marilyn." Serena's refusal made me the proudest I've been of her all season.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxa70Tog53fPidsF8hJZPVQPuZ6K7aPQHZcLYVf-dYP5tuNez72BbPtC38MZRDjyl1TX-pELpmoo1LNfiN4BMoWsMODTjNsVgXRQBR3a3sxMAp12Qd8lIl4IUL1aZ-WbvRnEcgMH80oo-o/s320/maureen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418606859525565314" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Maureen, I served with Jackie Kennedy, I knew Jackie Kennedy, Jackie Kennedy was a friend of mine. Maureen, you're no Jackie Kennedy. </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-75041622844956213552009-12-21T07:15:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:09:25.482-08:00Witherspoonism<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0frOBcpO2OQXJm4VcTPZ2TgqyRid7HonRHrMGGUzXV8HcTh_DIEY-OkJz_-KKBcfR6xPRhkotFuhu0zAbFUdxAl04WrQzbInxJH9oWXmFb0bVFi1ajEPp9pR3IngLGCbp2lkhcuiUItyr/s1600-h/cristalle+ad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0frOBcpO2OQXJm4VcTPZ2TgqyRid7HonRHrMGGUzXV8HcTh_DIEY-OkJz_-KKBcfR6xPRhkotFuhu0zAbFUdxAl04WrQzbInxJH9oWXmFb0bVFi1ajEPp9pR3IngLGCbp2lkhcuiUItyr/s320/cristalle+ad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417758537321980226" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It's about that time in the blog where I tell you about my more deeply held beliefs and convictions. I believe in Potbelly sugar cookies. I believe that I am the secret love child that Johnny Depp and Kate Moss cannot acknowledge for fear of angering that French chick Johnny's dating these days. <div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdc767mY2HRjP2Kp-NFh1pcpUaAd-q24d2sUV0SEzE8vfqm8R27tw7PLDYExmMxLHkkrxB2vNIPZchFKVhuI8A7wF5W1M2Vr0dwp8-5AC7Z0QNoiV9P6BDaHLwXZF-ceiPTyf15xKHpC7/s320/Kate-Moss-Johnny-Depp.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417757972495007762" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It's okay, guys. I understand.</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Perhaps most importantly, I believe in Reese Witherspoon. Here's what's up: "Legally Blonde" is much closer to my life than anyone should feel comfortable with. My favorite line in the whole movie is when Elle is saying goodbye to Paulette at the salon, and she sniffles, "All people see when they look at me is blonde hair and big boobs."<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeSoeiFPTyLBBJomRKGJnZ0jkzD8_bFhhqgMJh5EcJpD_XVvBF3HUL76IlBjAwUGJ-EViEOer2N0pRRs1DcsFXnTz6ASdFToB7XnLeoq-cNGPT1lYUuKcK0xJnbyU74x_Sf0cvWLkaeLC8/s320/elle+woods.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417757590640329730" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Elle, I see your truuuee cooolors, shiiiining through</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There is a certain category of girls- Elle Woods, Serena van der Woodsen, Daisy Buchanan from "The Great Gatsby," and me- for whom that line hits very, very close to home. Beautiful blonde women who nobody expects anything from. Daisy used the low standards set for her to ruin lives and get away with it. Elle proved all of the doubters and haters wrong when she triumphed at the trial. Serena and I, we haven't quite figured it out yet. Sometimes I think that Serena is headed in the Daisy direction. Remember what she said when Nate Archibald asked her if she'd read The Old Man and the Sea? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"I prefer Fitzgerald to Hemingway." Of course you do, Serena. Of course you do.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiplLJDgzTkYZKJ6XLfpPpMfAC0D6PWpNijb9ZLFGi6lPMdAkjI3A3WVQgF20MOVlC_TlAC_8ZsrbGUn2J-Qr2RnJTkxY0rQP_FiHZaeYxuZp51vHKIaFh_S04vdv7F9kyR5-4q4H_stEO-/s320/serena+great+gatsby.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417757143101062034" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">She's got great taste in literature, that Serena.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, the reason I bring up my Witherspoonism today is because I was unable to find an ad for "Cristalle", the second-to-last Chanel fragrance I'll be reviewing. So instead, I used a picture that SHOULD be a Cristalle ad from an old Elle magazine shoot of Reese. The trees, the spots of sunlight, the white dress, her serene smile- it's nothing short of perfect for Cristalle. Cristalle was originally created in 1974 in an Eau de Toilette formulation by Henri Robert, who is also responsible for No. 19. However, I tested the Eau de Parfum formulation, which was created by Jacques Polge in 1993. If I had to guess, I would imagine that the Henri Roberts version is probably a little more green, a little closer to No. 19. The version of Cristalle that I tested, however, bears no resemblance to anything else in the Chanel lineup.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Cristalle evokes a lovely young thing in a loose white dress running through dew-soaked grass that sparkles in the sun. The sparkling effect is probably achieved with the lemon topnote, but I have no idea how Polge so beautifully captured the sweet smell of freshly mowed grass. For the first ten minutes, I hated this perfume. It smelled very strongly of something I identified as anise (licorice), one of my least favorite notes in perfumery and the reason that Pink Sugar makes me want to cry. Based on the official list of notes, it was probably actually lily of the valley, but that reminds me: the only thing that I hate more than blondism is Pink Sugar. There's a girl in my dorm who lives one floor BENEATH me, and when she puts on her Pink Sugar in the morning, the smell quite literally wakes me up. AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Ladies who wear Pink Sugar, do you know what you smell like? There's a scene in Mean Girls where Janice Ian says, "You smell like a baby prostitute." That is what you smell like, Pink Sugar wearers. And please don't be like Lindsay Lohan's character Cady Heron, who responds with "Thank you!" We all know what happened to Lohan, and unless you want your perfume to say "I have completely destroyed what was once an extremely promising acting career thanks to a combination of cocaine terrible parenting and EVEN MORE TERRIBLE BLONDE EXTENSIONS WHY WOULD YOU EVER DYE THAT BEAUTIFUL RED HAIR LINDSAY YOU WERE SO CUTE IN THE PARENT TRAP OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED," please for the love of all that is holy step away from the Pink Sugar.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifGrHTj4iM4aY8E2beez3OvnblqxmfNOXv1lqkIvEHSjwoWKJdKKPyCQ1OfxgHxsn3zhVIDhOuEV1STz66YdRoMT7_56xbKaOfJAneI7KpIR1UNnB2wlkUCXkVlwvUQYAE-zBORIwmXj5V/s320/parent+trap.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417755410792507186" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">WHY, LINDSAY????? WHYYYYYY?!?!?!</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, after about ten minutes the anise/lily of the valley note disappears and you are left with an absolutely gorgeous fresh, sweet grassy scent. This is not my favorite Chanel (that would be No. 5, which I have been saving for last), but it is quite stunning and pretty much the complete opposite of what a baby prostitute might wear.</div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eqmffrUyyvdbyHVU3sfSCCVj05cmhc2ldxw4Y0DaAkrUPDQxdYtESA6MI9l7B0Cdu9yLJp5TiJoyaEvuEzHzKSp6hzAvfXdteSbZajgRwSSLZrcsJf9XjwNpSc3lyO0R39AnPoduibN-/s320/pink+sugar.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417754811417167122" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I am fairly certain that these ladies are not wearing Cristalle.</span></i></div></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-69289467145208881982009-12-19T07:50:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:09:43.759-08:00And Now, A Nazi History Lesson<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObTVNH2buHNIoT7td3iaT5_rjeLs-ga4GNaEvxY5FhIathbJIvXl-txPxumGB8OuQ40wMgYp5TMdKc-8K4K0OP7LzSyKbyyYqzjIN2oNtAeGPQlkd9T1baioVD-93bTlcoEsxwTxrAwOF/s1600-h/chanel+no+19.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObTVNH2buHNIoT7td3iaT5_rjeLs-ga4GNaEvxY5FhIathbJIvXl-txPxumGB8OuQ40wMgYp5TMdKc-8K4K0OP7LzSyKbyyYqzjIN2oNtAeGPQlkd9T1baioVD-93bTlcoEsxwTxrAwOF/s320/chanel+no+19.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417043808932746050" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>To talk about No. 19, one must talk about Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel, because it was Chanel No. 19, and not the far more famous Chanel No. 5, that was (allegedly, we'll get to that later) her personal perfume. Let's just get it out of the way: Gabby Chanel was not a good person. Many people aren't aware, but Gabby had mad Nazi connections. How do you think she stayed in the Hotel Ritz Paris (think the Ritz Carlton, but much, much nicer) during the entirety of World War II while maintaining two other apartments in Paris? I'll tell you: it was all paid for by her lover Hans Gunther von Dincklage, a Nazi officer and spy.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Chanel was even a collaborator in an operation planned by Walter Schellenberg, the Chief of Foreign Intelligence for Adolf Hitler. There's also a little bit of perfume-related intrigue. Chanel was always bitter that she only owned 10% of her perfume company, Chanel Parfums, while her manufacturers, the Jewish Wertheimer family, owned 70%. In 1940, Chanel attempted to use anti-semitic laws that forbade Jews from owning property to oust the Wertheimers, who had made Ms. Chanel's perfumes world-famous. This turned out to be the ultimate example of why biting the hand that feeds you is probably not a very good idea. The Wertheimers found a non-Jewish proxy to run the business in their name during the war, preventing Chanel from taking control, and today Alain and Gerard Wertheimer are the sole owners of the Chanel brand and the world's 65th richest men.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14IqJvapU2TtOiU8M83d6FrEQAmcsRKKKrcGKkzAVXt-XPeLTDVGRAGCgLP9tG1HwnUw5hCJQm-6aSjLAiDMsyqewTNo9NwHFqOY3UCrj5NN4IjDIBdJpfUx3atngE8Tfc6Q7sctB5oqf/s320/alain+and+gerard+wertheimer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417027829710416306" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Alain and Gerard Wertheimer. Take that, Gabby!</i></span></div><div><div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span>Bottom line? Chanel may have been the hard-working, scrappy little orphan girl that you've read about in so many books and articles, but she was also arrested for being a Nazi agent. The signature scent of such a complex woman would not be Pink Sugar. And indeed, No. 19 is just as multifaceted as you would imagine. Honestly, knowing what I (and now you) know about Chanel, I initially felt kind of uncomfortable with No. 19. I did not particularly want to smell the prized, treasured scent of someone who I hold in very low esteem. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>However, after a little more research, I learned that No. 19 was created by Henri Robert in 1971, which was the year of Chanel's death. All of those "Chanel's personal perfume" shenanigans are just a (very clever) marketing scheme. Now I don't have to feel bad about liking No. 19 as much as I do. Don't get too attached to it, though; No. 19 may already be on its way to being phased out, as the Eau de Parfum and Parfum formulations were discontinued in the US and UK in 2000. </div><div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>No. 19 smells quite similar to No. 5, which means that it opens with aldehydes and smells mostly of sweet baby powder. They share many notes, including ylang-ylang and jasmine. There is some sort of hay-smelling note in No. 19 that is not found in No. 5. However, the most important distinction is the galbanum top note of No. 19, which adds a green sharpness (something like green apples) that makes No. 19 different, quirkier. I found an ad for No. 19 online that calls it "The Unexpected Chanel," and that is very apt. Its loveliness is unconventional and takes you by surprise. I also found one that labels No. 19 "The Outspoken Chanel," and while I wouldn't go that far, No. 19 certainly has more to say than, for example, Coco Mademoiselle. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>For me No. 19 evokes someone like Kirsten Dunst; by no means a cookie-cutter beauty, she is nevertheless very appealing in an offbeat way. I like Kirsten Dunst, and so for her sake I will try to pretend that Spiderman 3 never happened. That movie was so bad that during the scene when Peter Parker punches MJ in the face, the entire movie theater started clapping. I looked all over the internets for a picture of that scene, but the best I could do was this picture of MJ right before the punch was thrown.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KFl-HTN34vdmIfSipluzduz3dTkuJZfyQSmf7DEH9517Dfh9mhg8QEaBxgKvF7b4PB1002Ix2bVnxDmMKg0_rrU7WIDoGFTz-FUwsJvLX3Q_VBZrZCJyZsiozi8IL7XKXk0gaWyRjr_b/s320/mary+jane+spiderman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417000723609341378" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-size:small;"><i>For the record, MJ, I did not clap. </i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Actually, there is one really nice scene in Spiderman 3, when MJ sings "I'm Through With Love," which was originally sung by Marilyn Monroe in "Some Like It Hot." It's interesting to hear a No. 19 interpret a classic No. 5's song. </div></div></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-46503799025008305672009-12-18T19:20:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:10:07.508-08:00Mix Your Milk With My Coco Puffs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiq36ttwwhQEBB6py3V97yiN6kzEHozD72xwULURqGrk7inHRVnxwn9rJeHuF6qks3v-T1_5GsMBENXb93Lj-p7mH7zbmFw_rQ_0l3GGERikqe9DOANVdXPaBla5qtMpirtnV3Q49tOOQ/s1600-h/coco+chanel.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 245px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiq36ttwwhQEBB6py3V97yiN6kzEHozD72xwULURqGrk7inHRVnxwn9rJeHuF6qks3v-T1_5GsMBENXb93Lj-p7mH7zbmFw_rQ_0l3GGERikqe9DOANVdXPaBla5qtMpirtnV3Q49tOOQ/s320/coco+chanel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416800865775174594" /></a><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"The Bombshell Manual of Style" describes Coco as "made for brunette bombshells with big personalities." As an example of such a bombshell it gives Jane Russell, who is one-half of my second favorite movie of all time (the first being "Star Trek V: The Final Frontier"), "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes." (The third is "Blazing Saddles," which is a different post entirely.) Can we talk about how that movie is so interesting, because even though Jane Russell's character tries to get with the entire Olympic relay team and generally behaves like a total Clara Bow (1920's actress Clara Bow used to have orgies with the entire USC football team, which is really kind of impressive if you think about it), everyone acts like Marilyn Monroe's character is a hussy and a half. Folks, blondism is an ugly, ugly thing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmy8TChwoGS9kuW5bx1rcHPO6-mk8WrZEvQmizN0hgQSC5Z8CZOoT8wV0BKGE3HarRl4G_NX2Gby-rmxAsL5XRm4-pN7mw1xSnxv3_p4a3KXqqk7xedEqiguQ-EdYAllL1MqyDeyxz0LbY/s320/jane+russell.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416799573323928386" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Don't be a Clara Bow, Jane Russell!</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Their dynamic actually reminds me a lot of Serena and Blair, if Blair would be more honest about who she really is and if Serena cared at all about money. It also brings to mind the relationship between Kirk and Spock in Star Trek V, which... okay, that part's not true, but if it was, Kirk would definitely be Serena and Spock would be Blair. "To boldly go where no [wo]man has gone before" is 100% Serena; I just wish she'd stop boldly going in the direction of MARRIED PEOPLE. William Shatner (the actor who plays Kirk) directed Star Trek V and it's incredible, Shatner hadn't yet reached the level of tubbiness that makes his "Priceline Negotiator" ads so damn depressing for me to watch. I actually have a William Shatner CD, "Has Been," where instead of singing he just talks his way through every song. It's really, really weird, but extremely soothing to fall asleep to.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWG5HraR6Q1lq-X7T1PGwRR8VvgPJGpl096dGkAsYn-4zPWiXlMEFF1xqv96n8uFUBb_vyqdaKASzBU9d-0EPmiOO96Mux3VwyFBZZqOBKIXOIhKFfILCDlILLK58j4BYNiB3yTjp37XcD/s320/priceline+negotiator.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416799075649600098" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Why, Kirk?? Whyyyyyyy????</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, the point is that as a blonde, I find the blondism in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes very hurtful, and I try to counter it whenever I can by telling as many brunette jokes as possible. For example, what do you call a brunette in a room full of blondes? Invisible! Now that I've alienated all of my (future) (hopefully) brunette readers (you know I love you!), let's talk about Coco. The Bombshell Manual of Style was right, as it inevitably always is. Coco, created in 1984 by Jacques Polge, is definitely not for wallflowers. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My notes on Coco start with the words "Jasmine freakin' city," a note which is often the hallmark of big, bombshell-style fragrances. Coco is a very rich and very strong jasmine-rose concoction (the richness probably comes from the labdanum) which is highly enjoyable until the slightly unfortunate, overly sweet and syrupy drydown. Oh, and if you were wondering, there is absolutely no similarity to Coco Mademoiselle, which is supposed to be an interpretation of Coco for the younger crowd. Coco is known to be the signature scent of actress Catherine Zeta-Jones, and this is nothing short of a perfect match: with the possible exception of Penelope Cruz, no modern actress embodies the brunette bombshell role as well as Zeta-Jones.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7NgU3g-B-dXxdVLRVyeRZBKeXKRyd1ixTTFjteicZfjv2uIOTsWg0v7qM9Ed_pAVnsIJ5xq6XS96TqOsau3DHVbKfCB-MJH_9HZ9gPldEBN0oqtHcV8RY3PQ5so2is33FKZi5ugEP3M4/s320/czj+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416798320347486690" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Daaaaaayyyum.</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>To be honest, I was slightly terrified of Coco before this Chanel project (I had tried it twice before with very ugly results), but now I am quite fond of it. It's perfect for the brunette who wouldn't be invisible in a room full of blondes. By the way, what's the difference between a brunette and the trash? At least the trash gets taken out once a week!</div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-28969045264167961822009-12-18T19:12:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:17:25.570-08:00It Lacks Allure<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnE7bQcJ1896FpSCZ_TbNchkeRWzqaJ2xJw7OATW52uNY0xSsP7GwjOHpadp-hK4qLOrHwfBxgV2g2SMp5zvV8e0iFs_E91OONXQZltJo6wXURTc3YBLNsLZhIIbZG8NbTfuAShKg-BxI/s1600-h/chanel+allure.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnE7bQcJ1896FpSCZ_TbNchkeRWzqaJ2xJw7OATW52uNY0xSsP7GwjOHpadp-hK4qLOrHwfBxgV2g2SMp5zvV8e0iFs_E91OONXQZltJo6wXURTc3YBLNsLZhIIbZG8NbTfuAShKg-BxI/s320/chanel+allure.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429506111950145746" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The nicest thing about</span> "Allure," created in 1996 by "Chanel's design house" (I was unable to find the name of the perfumer, which could be part of the problem), is this ad featuring the GORGEOUS Malay model Nora Ariffin. If only the perfume was as nice as the picture. Allure is a nasty little bugger. Some woods at the top, some plasticky vanilla in the drydown, but mostly just an extremely watered-down version of Chance crossed with any generic fruity floral on the market. Not at all alluring, and certainly not worthy of the name Chanel.</div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-37577875745474860062009-12-17T21:12:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:17:54.561-08:00DEAR KEIRA: YOU NEED A BIGGER HAT<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik3fmzURNFMQ4mmK3MxRvHjSOIFxibDffrArx6w209eUlvx06galSFwTggF3QLaSksa60aDA5SYp39ZRakBsPPE_5Ss6VhzUAbWoKQpel34GMpjZqU4E3rhZ6abkwB9umXYyTf6YWBxowt/s1600-h/cm+ad.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik3fmzURNFMQ4mmK3MxRvHjSOIFxibDffrArx6w209eUlvx06galSFwTggF3QLaSksa60aDA5SYp39ZRakBsPPE_5Ss6VhzUAbWoKQpel34GMpjZqU4E3rhZ6abkwB9umXYyTf6YWBxowt/s320/cm+ad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416459801491427730" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Before we talk about Coco Mademoiselle (spoiler alert: if you read the Chance review, you already know what Coco Mademoiselle smells like, because they are EXACTLY THE SAME), can we talk about this ad? I'll be straight: I hate it. Remember in Gossip Girl when Blair Waldorf was dating Lord Marcus (you know, the one who was totally sexing his stepmom), and she brings up "Atonement," and he's all "No, Blair, you're not like that tart Keira Knightley." <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I was always so confused by that line, because Keira always seemed to me the loveliest and classiest of girls. But I look at this ad and I cannot help but wonder: Was Lord Marcus right? Is Knightley tarty? And if so, what else was he right about? Should we ALL be engaging in quasi-incestual relationships? Should we ALL be pronouncing the name Blair as "Bleh"? So many questions. Incidentally, Emma Watson is rumored to be the next face of this fragrance, and if they try to replicate the look of this ad with her I will probably cry because HERMIONE IS NOT A HO.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Perhaps, my astute readers, you can sense that my ranting is a form of stalling, because I really do not have all that much to say about Coco Mademoiselle. Created in 2001 by Jacques Polge, it smells practically identical to Chance, but with less warmth, more floral top notes (rose, and there's definitely some orange in the beginning) and more vanilla and musk in the drydown. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>When I was taking notes on this fragrance (why yes, I do have a perfume notebook, and yes, it is covered in pink polka dots), I used the word "pretty" three times in my observations. It is extremely pretty- frankly, too pretty for my tastes. I do not really think of myself as pretty, and so something as lovely as Coco Mademoiselle does not quite suit me. It evokes a very beautiful woman who does not particularly interest me. Think Diane Kruger.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Helvetica, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbdDqOm5d6OZa4BjMYQ6A2NQgyq6vLj9G2mIjTkcPDxpRCLrncbMJScWut9GJSq8iNyZaR3DF4rqmQuhWS_b1gniYgDaLDR64HcnaFUnE1UmzUTKo_ZktbIQ501yaZDDdo8qmXDfV2zvJ/s320/kruger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416459522372517506" /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>One of these two people never fails to catch my attention. I'll give you a hint: It's the one that I have a life-size cardboard cutout of. I'll give you another hint: It ain't Diane Kruger.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p></p><p></p></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-64887629108896230782009-12-17T20:34:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:18:14.568-08:00Honey I'm Still Free, Take a Chance On Me<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikSdMrBzT69ltkwwI3QtqQziHnvrd4OUG1ffbRVnr_nZJL-GAcizRIsbSPeRdYfGDpLLE8wDF00jb0LdJu_Q-r-gePs0_mpceHUVjMtHETHwx0t2Fo9e9YcAkOfnUGWgZQ0ltb1-x3Tm0M/s1600-h/chance+ad.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikSdMrBzT69ltkwwI3QtqQziHnvrd4OUG1ffbRVnr_nZJL-GAcizRIsbSPeRdYfGDpLLE8wDF00jb0LdJu_Q-r-gePs0_mpceHUVjMtHETHwx0t2Fo9e9YcAkOfnUGWgZQ0ltb1-x3Tm0M/s320/chance+ad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416461267163256450" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>We begin our Chanel series with a review of "Chance," created in 2002 by Jacques Polges. Why are we starting with Chance? You always ask such great questions, my dear readers. Chance is first because it was MY very first fragrance. When I was an extremely awkward and uncool thirteen-year old, Chance was being advertised on every other page of Seventeen magazine. Well, I thought to myself, if Seventeen said that Chance was cool, then maybe, just maybe, it could transform my geeky-ass self into one of the popular girls at my middle school. This was, of course, before Seventeen began to be styled by someone who has quite clearly been on some sort of "trip" since about 2004, and here I am not referring to vacation time.<div><br /><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, as you may have guessed, Chance did not magically do away with my horrendous too-short haircut or the glasses that covered half of my face. However, I am very happy to report that my thirteen-year old self smelled freaking awesome. Chance is a rather peppery citrus scent, a spicier and more interesting take on the insanely successful Coco Mademoiselle. It's also warmer, possibly thanks to the "amber of patchouli" note that the Chanel website says is in there (is it amber or is it patchouli? Get it together, Chanel). It was actually quite nice to rediscover this one. I bought it at the ginormous Macy's on my very first visit to NYC, and so I have always associated it with my beloved Nueva York.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Chance is reputedly the signature scent of the lovely Anne Hathaway, and I think that the vivacious, practically sparkling nature of Chance suits her very well.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><br /></p><p></p><p></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLD1YoZCX0sxaWHyJ4G47O3Fu2tdwR6rttOHPjGlEzYthHJT_aP_zYvzUCPU3bgmdtVxFgwRUqg4K5qZiXD6DED7U-1S43eAbA73wXuift6MnB2xGaFc9wr9UhterM7QYmMyU5I0LX03MK/s320/anne+hathaway.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416460509261040194" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It is also apparently the signature of Bridget from The Girls Next Door. I have no comment on this except to say that I much prefer Holly and that Kendra may well have the world's first negative IQ. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_yNrkZ4VkIe7j9Xnl67jJp_ed0vdasZi2oWOtgkJta-qQROv6XPpHuzkIxQEKUhlLu1DHNi0KQJ7T6rfmRBjvzJZUlMiKM2iPQw3YYmwXKjNLifiknspd9ZX9473L7-hkvC1pETKOadv/s320/girls+next+door.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416460921619562226" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7248511076593397154.post-79325895338300841132009-12-17T20:00:00.000-08:002010-01-22T02:19:24.309-08:00Hey y'all!<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My (future) (hopefully) readers, welcome! My name is Ari Weinberg, and I am a freshman at Johns Hopkins University. There's not a whole lot in the way of opportunities for creative expression in my major, biomolecular engineering, so I started this blog to write about two of my passions, beauty and fashion. If you were wondering, which I'm sure you were, some of my other passions include writing, surfing, and finding new and innovative ways of hiding a life-size Orlando Bloom cardboard cutout in my roommate's bed. True story.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>Now, you may also be wondering what my oh-so-clever blog title has to do with beauty and fashion. "Get It Together, Serena" (which will henceforth be referred to as GITS) is a nod to my favorite television character of all time, Serena van der Woodsen, who really needs to GET IT TOGETHER and stop doing it with MARRIED CONGRESSMEN like it is her JOB (which it is not). Oh yes, on that note, I am in no way affiliated with Gossip Girl, so please do not sue me CW because frankly it is not my fault that you have made Serena into the patron saint of promiscuity. The point, my dear CW legal team, is that GITS will focus not on Gossip Girl but rather, for the most part, on beauty. We'll be starting things off with a series on the Chanel fragrances. Thanks for reading!</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBoPJLU4Pink8zNL1B8lyuetR4CyER5YGgWIqmWj7nmeJ-HjOt2cuCqse9WoLyKh9FB-QHIsocyiA3Ji081xjkpTlfXgOTfhlGunsWnePf_Mu8CA56qDe0FzKgJRFzY-SrpPm4w2vfF4uA/s320/blake+lively+chanel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416429355707133106" /></div></div>Ari Weinberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07126090030824923664noreply@blogger.com0