A few years ago, I was talking to my friend Steve Gontarski, artist and Scent Bar manager, about an upcoming trip to London for a reunion of the first TV show I ever worked on, The Word.
"What's your scent concept for the party?" he asked, as if "scent concept" was automatically the first consideration in any important circumstance. "Scent concept" immediately entered my vocabulary, as did the ideal perfume for the occasion: Bruno Acampora Musc.
I love how warm and involving, yet subtle, it is -- perfect for parties where people lean in close to whisper gossip and naughtiness in your ear. I call Musc "the smell of slept-in sheets and lost weekends", because while it makes an ideal party partner, its primary directive is to enhance your mojo while "gettin' cozy", as my dad coyly used to put it.
This is down to Musc's in-built gaminess -- though nowhere near as "critter hindquarters" as Serge Lutens Muscs Koublaï Khän or Parfum d'Empire Musc Tonkin. Acampora's dark intentions are elevated from animal to human by a clutch of overheated roses and violets, wilted after a night nestled in a voluptuous, sandalwood-scented decollatage. It's more "bad girl" than "bad dog".