Perfume Pen Pals: Bond No. 9 Silver Factory (Part One)


Tonight I'm wearing Bond No. 9 Silver Factory because I was reminded of your praise. I like it but to my nose, it's good but not entirely convincing. It's an incense perfume without the smolder, without the darkness, cut with something sharply synthetic. (The violet perhaps?)

It's a cute'n'sparkly incense. It's incense for Meg Ryan. (Or whomever the cute'n'sparkly actress of the day is. My references are never current.)

The picture Meg Ryan shows her hairdresser when she wants "the Meg Ryan."

As far as Bonds go, I say New Haarlem rips out Silver Factory's cheerful little heart. Get me to love this perfume, KP. Because I'm not loving it.



Silver Factory is like a fancier Dior Fahrenheit at certain points. But I do agree about the sharply synthetic bit. It's sort of reminds me of the chemical "strawberry" smell in a service station restroom. But once I get past that, I'm all right. But the gas station toilet vibe does keep me from regularly indulging. Plus, it really is too sickening for hot weather.

Boy, I'm doing a lousy job at selling it, aren't I?



Wow, so if Silver Factory is your favorite Bond, I want to hear about your least favorite Bond. Because that description is bound to be positively violent.

Here's what Silver Factory smells like to me: half Avignon and half name-another-generic-Bond-perfume, all garish, synthetic-y and loud. (Y'know, basically any of them, although do I like the loudness of New Haarlem, Fire Island and Chinatown just fine.)

It smells like someone decided to make Avignon safe for the hoi polloi. (But unsafe for anyone within ten feet of the hoi polloi.) But I like the bottle. That's always the Bond No. 9 footnote: "But I like the bottle."


Read Bond No. 9 Silver Factory (Part Two) here


  1. It's been a long time since I've indulged in any Silver Factory, but I remember thinking at the time that it's the Marie Antoinette of incense -- flouncy, highly decorative and maybe even a bit too lippy for its own good.

    But, it also exhibits a certain girlish charm when it wants to. I bought a bottle for my big sis and she likes it. She only puts on a little when she wears it, but then she feels like a queen when she walks out the door.

    She just keeps an eye out for mobs and guillotines.

  2. Haha, maybe Silver Factory used to be the Marie Antoinette of incense, but it's be usurped by Malle's Portrait of a favorite cake-eating incense!

  3. Did I hear incense? I'm almost ashamed to admit I never tried any of the Bonds... I think they are way too overpriced for someone who can't make up her mind and stick to one (or just a few) favorites. Anyway, I guess I will pass again, I like my incenses the way they are: sharp, somber and most of the times, not crowd pleasers (needless to say my favorite is Avignon). In fact, I'm a big fan of the CDG Incenses, and the proud owner of 4 of them... except for Ouarzazate, which is, at least to my nose, "the dude from the bunch":)



  4. Okay, Dan - first of all - why pick on Meg??? Especially vintage Meg, before the creepshow facial surgery. When Harry Met Sally is one of my all-time favorite movies, so much so that I could do a one-man show reading of it from memory. (I overshare.)

    Now, back to Bond - I can't get the loud from Silver Factory. In fact, most of the Bond line comes at me as if from a long tunnel for some reason - not so much loud as in "that tiny light means a train will come through here eventually."

    But I agree otherwise, Bond fragrances come off like something highly calculated that's straining to appear edgy, hip and slightly in your face. The juice in those disco-ball attitude bottles can't match the hype.

  5. I may be alone in my opinion, but Silver Factory, which I tend to wear when I need a "pick me up", reminds me of a Pollyanna-version of YSL Nu.

    In many ways, I suppose Dan's pictorial comparison to Meg Ryan is spot on - but if Meg Ryan is Silver Factory then Kathleen Turner is YSL Nu.....and some days I just prefer my fragrance to "fake an orgasm in a Diner" instead of "manipulating me sexually just to double-cross me at the end".

  6. Marko - consider yourself lucky. I've been manipulated sexually just to be double-crossed during a faked orgasm in a diner. (Again, I overshare.) Still, the Western omelette was good and I'd definitely frequent the establishment again.

  7. Ha -but how is the coffee? (no need to remark on the "service"'ve already overshared enough.....) ;-)

  8. Haha - the repartee is certainly hopped-up this a.m.! Stefush, I wouldn't say "cute'n'sparkly" counts as being picked on, whether applied to a person or a perfume. But I get it, you love vintage Meg. What *would* constitute being picked on is my original caption: "When she wants 'the Meg Ryan', Meg shows this picture to her hairdresser. And to her plastic surgeon."

    I'm intrigued by your "long tunnel" analogy with regard to Bonds. Makes them sound like muffled woofer perfumes. Don't they explode in your nose like a bunch of wire-spring toy snakes stuffed in a can?

  9. Marko -- yep, I dig you: there's nothing amiss with good cheer and a little goofiness in a fragrance, even with such a somber ingredient as incense. I nominate Eau d'Italie Baum du Doge as another lighthearted incense with strange, sweet bedfellows.

    Thanks to both you and Stefush for your outstanding and disturbing analogies.

    Sabrina, that's funny, I think of Zagorsk as the dude in that CdG bunch!

  10. Kutie N. Sparklerik:

    None of the Bond perfumes do the Exploding Trick Can thing to me; neither does the Creed line. There's a thinness to them that I can't relate to (and I'm not even sure if that's the word for it, really.) I can sense the great blending of the notes in both, but then most of the time they just stop at a certain wattage and go no further, as if they were afraid of getting too intense. Too reserved or withdrawn.

    Of course, in the case of the Bond line, I associate it with having to be shopping in Sak's - which is like visiting an iceberg with cash registers.

    I like my scents to be either otherworldly (like Andy Tauer and the softer Frederic Malle or Different Company stuff) or big, spicy and voluptuous like Amouage XXV or Eau Premiere.

    Think someone like Auntie Mame rather than Meg Ryan.

  11. That's some thorough s'plainin', Stefush, I smell where you're coming from.

    And "iceberg with cash registers" is the single best description of Sak's ever.