The internet is usually the greatest gift to materialism one can find.
We want, we type and click, and in a (hopefully) short while a delivery man appears with a cardboard box containing treasure from afar.
Scent is difficult to discover on the internet. Oh sure, we can acquire tons of samples in the form of the “three samples with purchase” that we receive from our various beauty hauls. We can fill multiple champagne coasters with the tiny little vials of whatever scent-of-the-week they’re trying to push on us.
(Why champagne coasters? They are wide, low bowls that are the perfect height for perusing and choosing a vial. And they are silver/silver-plated with ornate designs, so your embarrassingly bountiful collection — you don’t TRY to collect them, but you receive so many that they ACCUMULATE like reproductive rabbits — at least looks PRESENTABLE, there on your table.)
The sample vials are all well and good for the general offerings of your local typical-town department store. Ralph Lauren, Chanel, The World of 287 versions of “Daisy” by Marc Jacobs. Etc. All mass-produced with quality controls that will guarantee you that your first bottle smells the same as your third, smells the same as the vial, and smells the same as every other person wearing it on public transit.
Creed, though . . . Creed is a difficult egg to crack.
Of course you can Google all the random internet vendors who will sell you a sample that they claim has been decanted from an authentic bottle . . . but it being the internet, we are wary to trust that avenue of discovery.
And Creed DOES offer samples via their website . . . but only with a purchase. So it’s a bit like the proverbial chicken and the egg argument. How are you supposed to BUY from Creed to acquire the samples . . . when you wanted the samples to know WHAT to buy???
Hmpf.
So. For those of us who have to make do with the small malls and dot coms . . . you usually table your desire to discover Creed until an infrequent trip to The Metropolis.
This is what I did. And it had not even occurred to me to look on this occasion, but instead happening upon a little Creed counter in a Saks Fifth Avenue was a perky surprise.
I was SO perky-surprised about it, I lost all notion of the scents I had wondered about in the past, and had to let the Creed “specialist” lead the way. In the end, I left the store with two precious little screw-topped glass vials to try, and a business card with the specialist’s cell phone number when I was ready to purchase or if I had any more questions.
I left with Aventus and Millesime Imperial. I was already tired of the Imperial by the second wear (it smelled typical girly, which is why I was surprised to see males reviewing it who loved it as a “manly scent”. hmm.), but the Aventus . . .
. . . I loved the Aventus. And it is generally motivated more towards men . . . so see, neither of my scents could keep to their lanes.
Even reading online forums about my new love which sniffed (ha. “sniffed.”) about how “eeeehhhhhhhveryone” gravitates towards it . . . you know . . . oh my, how common my tastes . . . well, their sniffs could not dissuade me. Luckily the little glass vial offered several applications . . . and while I wait on my bottle to arrive, I need only to sniff my watch band to summon the scent for reassurance.
“Introduced in 2010, and crafted by the deft hand of Olivier Creed, sixth-generation master perfumer, in collaboration with his son, Erwin, Aventus is inspired by the dramatic life of a historic emperor who waged war, peace, and romance with equal magnitude (always riding on horseback to victory).”
“The unrivaled Aventus is comprised of abundantly superb ingredients from the pages of the French Revolutionary’s life, fragrant touchstones from Corsica, Italy, Spain, Egypt, and Louisiana — a worldly blend for individuals who savor a life well-lived.”
Top Note: Corsican Blackcurrant, Italian Bergamot, French Calville Blanc apples and royal Pineapple
Middle Note: Napolean Roses, Louisiana Birch, Egyptian Jasmine and Patchouli
Base Note: Spanish Oak Moss, Ambergris and French Vanilla
Batches of Aventus seem to widely vary . . . some are heavy on the pineapple, etc. . . . my sample impressed me with the Italian Bergamot, Louisiana Birch, Spanish Oak Moss, and French Vanilla notes especially. I would never have called this a fruity scent . . . so it would behoove you to be aware that a batch number can make all the difference.