4160 Tuesdays has a knack of giving perfumes such great names that you’re brimming with the anticipation of a little voyage into a vignette before you even put it on. It’s like having a pair of shoes called “Magic Carpet” or a coat called “Russian Princess”. Immediately, life gets more interesting and fantastical through the power of suggestion.
Thus it was in merry, hippy Carnaby Street mood,with “here comes Georgie Girl” in my head, that I first tried 4160 Tuesdays London 1969. Now you may notice that certain brands have a recognition factor. This is no bad thing: The old Guerlains have it and you can usually tell a Serge or a Tauer by its je ne sais quoi. 4160 Tuesdays has it too: a kind of rich, woody blank canvas base that makes it recognisable…or so I thought until I tried London 1969.
Alert with zingy lemon, zesty grapefruit and a kind of lime sherbert that took me back to my childhood, London 1969 is like licking a lolly on a hot day in a floppy hat, in glorious techniclour as you mingle with the cool cats outside Biba. No, I wasn’t around then, ( it was the year my Dad looked at my Mum in a funny way though, I was born the following year) but Sarah McCartney is the Doctor Who of perfumers: she can take you back in time and space with a mere smell.
The Dark Heart of Havana had me sipping coffee in a Cuban Pavement Café, Time to Draw The Raffle Numbers was all polished floors and marmalade in an empty church hall, and The Lion Cupboard had a whiff of peppermints, old wood and pocket fluff and made me feel pleasantly Narnia-ish.
If you like Annick Goutal Eau D’Hadrien on steroids, or O de Lancome with the volume pumped up, or Miller Harris Le Pamplemousse, then I can almost guarantee you’ll love London 1969. And the sky will be blue, and your sunglasses big, and there will be red buses and black cabs and optimism. It’s glorious, as is the sunshine.
London 1969 is available on the 4160 website.