My miniature bottle of Le Feu D'issey is here! This fragrance was discontinued back in 1998 and I, like millions of others, never bothered trying to smell it at the time and it was a massive flop. However, I was hopelessly intrigued by the anguished reports of those who loved it mostly because a common thread was that it was very, very hard to convey what the scent smelled like and that there was nothing else like it. For this reason alone, I had to track this down.

Now it is here. In many ways, I was hoping I'd hate it so I could just forget this interest and move on but I didn't - it really was astonishingly inviting.  The most common description usually given is that it smells like Roses floating in milk. This has the advantage of being accurate but also massively misleading because certainly that the idea of what that might smell like was disgusting. And this very much is not - it does have a milk note but there are also subtle spices. Luca Turin spoke of the perfume giving the impression of a series of UFOs flitting past too quickly to be appreciated and I thought that was interesting but fanciful. But having smelled it, it is insightful - every so often I think 'ooh, what DOES this smell like?' but then it's gone. I suggest it is this which gives it such an inviting quality - the temptation is to keep smelling it to try and nail down all the components. The only down side is that I suspect in a proper dose, this would be a heady perfume, prone to causing headaches. But nonetheless, a marvel. Bring it back!!

Having just finished reading "Perfumes - the guide" by Luca Turin & Tania Sanchez and I'm now utterly bewitched by the descriptions of scents that I've never tried. So much so that mum and I are taking the train up to London for the day on Saturday to embark on an epic olfactory journey around the Selfridge's and Harrods' magnificent  perfume halls, as well as a couple of niche outfits. Of especial interest is going to be smelling Mitsouko again. I bought a tiny bottle of this (and Shalimar, both by Guerlain) when I was about 16 (?) because it is the signature perfume of Nora & Dora Chance, the twins from "Wise Children", quite my favourite book at the time. I recall thinking it was a bit much somehow and I never cared for it but now I want to give it another go after reading the gorgeous descriptions and its important place in perfume history (the first chypre, which I did not know). Other Guerlain scents firmly on the menu to be experienced are L'Heure Bleue and Mouchoir de Monsieur . The latter fascinates me strangely as it has only recently been placed on general release despite going back many decades. But previously, to quote the guide "in order to wear it you were faced with a stark choice: you had to be either the actor Jean-Claude Brialy or King Carlos of Spain." The mind boggles at the mismatched duo! Makes me want to make my own ultra gorgeous perfume which I shall then only sell to either The Queen of England or Terence Stamp.   It is supposed to be utterly bewitching, a combination of lavender & vanilla yet masculine.

Speaking of bewitching scents you can't get your hands on, it has given me which I suspect may be a lifelong wish to experience what exactly Feu D'Issey by Issay Miyake smelled like. Everyone who's smelled the thing seem in firm agreement as to its utterly unique scent. And it has people who utterly worship it. Luca Turin in the guide called it the "most remarkable scent of the decade". It costs a fortune on ebay now and sadly I assume the price will only rise as will the proportion of fakes. Such is the grip it has on me, I was seriously considering one of the crazy high bids for the thing before sanity returned. Ah well!

Current perfume true love that I do actually own is a recent find by Miller Harris called L'air  De Rien which is the perfume designed for Jane Birkin and is utterly gorgeous. I could breathe it in in lieu of oxygen all day. Interestingly, the Guide describes it as being reminiscent of the spirit of the 1960s in that it  puts one in mind of 'boozy kisses, stale joss sticks and unwashed knickers' which actually sounds pretty gross but it then goes on to praise it as being wonderful. I'm not at all sure I would have bought it on that basis though - and fwiw I can make out the joss sticks and the booze but the underwear thing is reassuringly absent! This was the perfume I wore throughout my holiday in Sicily and I just couldn't get enough of it. I would be very interested to hear of other favourite perfumes and why in the comments.