Lush's Lust Solid Perfume
Call me an 18 year old college freshman with no olfactory boundaries, but I just discovered Lush. And I am besotted.
This post is going to be about their Gorilla Perfume in solid form, Lust, and not about the massage bar (aka solid lotion) that had me and the rest of my household struggling to breathe as soon as I brought it through the foyer. I had to wrap that one in newspaper like an old fish and Take It Out like some reference to The Godfather, which yes, I've seen, but it was a long time ago.
Many of the reviews of Lust I've encountered read like a group of women talking about the most recent erotic novel they've read over a bottle of rosé. They say it's dirty. It's musky. It's skanky. It's pure sex on the skin.
All of those descriptors are more than appealing to me. But on me, it just smells like the wholesome and elegant vapors that waft off a cup of jasmine tea.
That's not quite honest.
In actuality, the first few powerful huffs of Lust smell kinda to me like a heady and absurd mix of banana peel and gardenia. Maybe I'm just nose blind. After about half an hour of banana peel and gardenia, the Hawaiian compost pile scent begins to soften into the lovely jasmine tea that I'm trying to convince my dear readers is so gentle and creamy on the skin.
I think the discrepancy in how it smells to me versus the others could exist for a few reasons - that the solid perfume that I own smells more one-note than the eau de parfum; that the scent mixes harmoniously with my skin without stirring up some more vibrant aromas; or that I just am not all that great at distinguishing different elements in a perfume, and am not one of the population who experiences the scent of jasmine like cat urine.
I'm sure the answer leans strongly on that final theory, although that doesn't do a whole lot to calm my nervousness about wearing a scent in general, lest I trigger someone's asthma or vomit reflex.
Indeed, I'm usually quite sensitive to scents. Despite this fact I can't stop spending hours reading perfume reviews on Fragrantica or going to Sephora to test them out. Or even worse, buying them smell unsmelled, a habit I don't think I have to tell you is about as reckless as riding motorcycles without headgear, although probably just a bit less lethal. Usually once I have something on my wrist, I can't stop smelling it until I begin feeling dizzy and achy, at which point I must retire to my fainting couch to eat a few loaves of bread.
But not so with Lust! Nevertheless I'm more than happy to keep it close to the skin in the solid form, as I'm famously easy to embarrass, and should someone turn their nose up at my aroma I might b-Lush myself to death with shame.
Oh yes, maybe I should mention some practical details. As of the publication of this rambling article, it costs $13.95, and some people on MakeupAlley get angry that the red color of the perfume is marking up their skin and clothing.
I, for one, usually walk around all day with sharpie marking up my face, like some kind of alcoholic fraternity brother, so I must stress that fastidiousness is neither my strong suit nor my modus operandi.
I've never done a rating system before but for this perfume I say: eight out of ten emojis of your choice! Personalize it!
My most used emoji is obviously the weeping face, but for this perfume I choose eight heart eyed yellow guys all in a row.
Many of the reviews of Lust I've encountered read like a group of women talking about the most recent erotic novel they've read over a bottle of rosé. They say it's dirty. It's musky. It's skanky. It's pure sex on the skin.All of those descriptors are more than appealing to me. But on me, it just smells like the wholesome and elegant vapors that waft off a cup of jasmine tea.
That's not quite honest.
In actuality, the first few powerful huffs of Lust smell kinda to me like a heady and absurd mix of banana peel and gardenia. Maybe I'm just nose blind. After about half an hour of banana peel and gardenia, the Hawaiian compost pile scent begins to soften into the lovely jasmine tea that I'm trying to convince my dear readers is so gentle and creamy on the skin.
I think the discrepancy in how it smells to me versus the others could exist for a few reasons - that the solid perfume that I own smells more one-note than the eau de parfum; that the scent mixes harmoniously with my skin without stirring up some more vibrant aromas; or that I just am not all that great at distinguishing different elements in a perfume, and am not one of the population who experiences the scent of jasmine like cat urine.
I'm sure the answer leans strongly on that final theory, although that doesn't do a whole lot to calm my nervousness about wearing a scent in general, lest I trigger someone's asthma or vomit reflex.
Indeed, I'm usually quite sensitive to scents. Despite this fact I can't stop spending hours reading perfume reviews on Fragrantica or going to Sephora to test them out. Or even worse, buying them smell unsmelled, a habit I don't think I have to tell you is about as reckless as riding motorcycles without headgear, although probably just a bit less lethal. Usually once I have something on my wrist, I can't stop smelling it until I begin feeling dizzy and achy, at which point I must retire to my fainting couch to eat a few loaves of bread.
But not so with Lust! Nevertheless I'm more than happy to keep it close to the skin in the solid form, as I'm famously easy to embarrass, and should someone turn their nose up at my aroma I might b-Lush myself to death with shame.
Oh yes, maybe I should mention some practical details. As of the publication of this rambling article, it costs $13.95, and some people on MakeupAlley get angry that the red color of the perfume is marking up their skin and clothing.I, for one, usually walk around all day with sharpie marking up my face, like some kind of alcoholic fraternity brother, so I must stress that fastidiousness is neither my strong suit nor my modus operandi.
I've never done a rating system before but for this perfume I say: eight out of ten emojis of your choice! Personalize it!
My most used emoji is obviously the weeping face, but for this perfume I choose eight heart eyed yellow guys all in a row.
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