I have very happy memories of scents in the 70s. It was the decade I went from nought to ten and grown up ladies were the blueprint of what I was to be become one day.
I am not the only forty something who remembers their mothers, aunts and grandmothers dousing themselves in Tweed. Everyone remembers it, but nobody owns it. Except my friend Lisa who, as you know, is canny when it comes to perfume.
Based on her interest, and having been initiated into the Chypre portal via dreamy Balmain de Balmain and Jolie Madame, I allowed a small bottle to land by the till of my local chemist and fall into my bag in exchange for money. Oops!
Opening notes are clearly and loudly Lavender and Geranium. It reminds me of Tauer’s Le Maroc Pour Elle: only because of the lavender opening, after that they part ways.
The Geranium keeps it prickly and it reminds me of Elizabeth Arden Blue Grass for the first hour. I don’t actually enjoy the first hour of Tweed, but it gets better, trust me.
In the middle phase, the Lavender stays loud and the Cinnamon adds spice. There’s noisy Jasmine- loud and proud, but the synthetic Lavender jars a little. There is a disquieting hint of disinfectant.
The base notes provide the bit worth waiting for. Oakmoss, Vetiver, Patchouli and Benzoin. It’s a Woody, Mossy finish that lingers long beyond what anyone would expect for £4.99 from a little independent chemist. For those of you who don’t live round the corner from me, you can buy this from Amazon or Allbeauty.com. It’s less than ten quid and worth it just for that amazing base note and the great longevity.