Oh, Thierry Mugler, you crazy Frenchman!  I love you and your olfactory genius!  I love Angel, I love Innocent , and now I love Womanity!

However, this is a love that, at first, did not seem meant to be. Let's go back in time to a few months ago, a time before my nose had ever touched this fragrance and my knowledge of Womanity was based purely on press releases and preliminary product reviews.  In spite of loving Mugler's other creations and a consistently concerted effort not to formulate opinions about scents I've yet to smell,  I hated almost everything I knew about Womanity from the first moment I read about it.

Let's start with the name: Womanity. What? Really, Thierry? When someone asks me what I'm wearing, I'm going to have to say that ridiculous "word" out loud? Yeah, no. I'm not doing that.

Then we have Womanity's ridiculous "bond between women" brand messaging -  I'm convinced there's an army of ad executives somewhere that are still working on replacing all the pants they ruined when they forced this campaign so hard they shit themselves. I'm extremely insulted by the entire concept and its components: 

• An "artsy" product website covered in platitudes submitted by "real" women with music I'm either supposed to use as a yoga backdrop or a soundtrack to a tear-filled epiphany about my vagina
• A separate Womanity "ambassador" site with a ridiculous splash page (REALLY? A SPLASH page? In 2010? ) plastered with a trio of  women holding the world's most unintentionally scary Halloween masks – women that I'm pretty sure would also like to advise me on yeast infection treatments, tampons, and what to do when I get that not-so-fresh feeling
• The overall presumption that women don't already have a bond, and that Thierry Mugler himself is the only one who can see this travesty and fix it – with perfume

The notes in Womanity are simply said to be caviar, fig, and fig wood, and early reviewers actually described the top note as being somewhat fishy which nearly sent me over the edge for reasons that should be obvious. Luckily for Thierry, my going over the edge would never affect him in the least and even if it magically did, I didn't completely fly off the deep end because:

•  The bottle with its kick ass Gigeresque embellishment is crazy awesome and -
•  Thierry Mugler is responsible for two of my favorite olfactory creations in the universe so I felt compelled to give him the benefit of the doubt until I smelled this perfume for myself.

Now let's fast-forward to 3 days ago when Megan finally caught me in a moment when I wasn't already doused in another perfume. She had me try on the Womanity she received in the form of a deluxe sample from a Mugler rep. and what can I say? I LOVE IT.

There's absolutely nothing fishy about it – the caviar note manifests itself in the form of the fleeting essence of a salty sea spray that almost immediately melds itself with the sweet, rich aroma of figs.  The heart delivers on Mugler's attempt to create a fragrance that is both savory and sweet, and the "caviar" note's transformation to just plain salt adds a dimension to the fragrance that, much like the hearts of his other creations, cannot be compared to anything else.  The base retains the salty-sweetness of the heart, but the understated fig wood note smooths things out and allows the scent to live out its extended dry down in a form that's still sexy but much less dramatic.

If you're not into sillage, Womanity is definitely not for you. In fact, neither the sillage nor the lasting power leave anything to be desired – I sprayed it on myself early in the evening and could still smell it the next morning.

Everything about it sings autumn and winter to me just as richly as Angel and Innocent do, but with less spice and more sugar. I love the smell of fig, but find it's usually executed in a way that's perfectly pleasant but just a touch too dainty ( Guerlain's Aqua Allegoria Figue-Iris) , or with a cheap, heavy hand ( Bath and Body Works' Brown Sugar and Fig).

Womanity isn't cheap but it's not over-the-top expensive, and for a normal perfume user, even a 1.7 oz. bottle ( $78)  should last for quite some time. 

However, I still wish the ad campaign had been entirely different and it was named something I wasn't embarrassed to speak aloud, like maybe "Fig de la Mer" or "L'océan de la Figure" or even just, "Fig and Sea Spray." Really.

Angel was a big shit deal when it came out back in '92, and has managed to stay a big shit deal over the course of the past 18 years. I loved it as a teen and then moved on to other things – lesser things – and have recently rediscovered it thanks to Megan's recent obsession with it. There's nothing else on the market like it, and in fact, it's so distinctive that I thought I would have trouble wearing it again because the smell so intensely puts me in a specific time and place that it was actually a disorienting experience to put it on at all ( Yeah, you had your highlights, winters of '94 and '95, but I do NOT need to relive you ).  Eventually, smelling it so often built up a cache of envy that overpowered my need to be oriented anywhere in time, and now I am once again Angel's slave.

Angel is BIG. It is not for everyone. It is over-the-top, and it will absolutely overpower any perfume anyone within a 20 foot radius is wearing.  There are some qualities about it that are slightly gourmand, but it's not nearly as sweet as its notes would suggest.  It's spices and woods I smell in the end – it could almost be described as a sweet patchouli except that it has far more dimension. Although it's big and wild – or maybe because it's big and wild – it's absolutely a smell for the extravagantly rich and those who mingle with (but don't serve) them.

This stuff comes in just about every shape and size anyone has ever imagined, many of which are refillable. I would not be surprised to find that there is a special edition dodecohedron container in existence. Even at a discount, this stuff will cost you, but the lasting power Angel has is unmatched, which means you can get quite a bit of mileage even out of the classic .08 oz. star bottle.

Expect to pay anywhere between $30 – $165 depending on the shape, size and rarity of your bottle.

I didn't realize it until I received my sample  in the mail, but sometimes, especially as the weather gets cooler and the air starts smelling like chimneys and burning leaves, it suddenly becomes necessary to smell like a sexy humidor.  I'll be the first to admit that I didn't think a humidor could ever be something I aspired to smell like, and although Decadence and Debauchery is extremely androgynous (possibly even erring on the side of masculine), there is something insanely sensual and untamed about it.

Years ago, my work commute made it necessary to drive past a line of tobacco warehouses that, in the summertime, saturated the air with a heavy sweetness that gave me a head rush by simply breathing, regardless of whether my windows were up or down. 

I've tried many other tobacco themed perfumes and oils over the past year and a half and they never seem to get it quite right. When I would see tobacco listed as a fragrance note in a perfume, I imagined it would mirror the smell hovering around those old tobacco warehouses, but they never delivered, instead leaving me with the dank, lasting, odor of cheap, stale cigarettes. Not so with Decadence and Debauchery.  There's no head rush in this bottle, but the aroma of sweet tobacco is here, carefully balanced with vanilla bourbon. Hints of violet leaves, resin, blood orange and bergamot round it out and give it depth. 

It is my expert opinion that this fragrance smells almost entirely like Debauchery and only a tiny bit like Decadence. I adore it – though I must advise – you should sample it first because it's not for everyone.

The packaging is 100% recycled materials and the oil itself is made from 100% natural ingredients. Visit the "For Strange Women" Etsy shop and your very own 7mL bottle can be had for $20.

"Queen of Hearts" by Queen Latifah is brand new for fall 2010. I wasn't sure what to expect, but what I got was a really short-lived fruity-floral top that quickly but gracefully settled into a warm, golden, amber.

I have a tumultuous history with ambers – I love the sensuous, musky caramel qualities most ambers have to offer but that sweet, musky caramel quickly transforms into the smell of diapers the moment it comes in contact with my flesh. Tom Ford's Amber Absolute, which sells for $190 for 1.7 oz. (and can't really be had any cheaper unless you're doing a bottle split) has, until "Queen of Hearts", been the only exception to this rule. This is a real game changer, especially since QOH retails at an immensely more affordable $59 for 3.4 oz.

It claims to have "dewy green" notes as well as "red fruits" and a big white floral something or other.  Frankly, I didn't smell any of those things, but that didn't stop me from buying a bottle.

All you Facebook followers already know how much I love this one and why. Everyone else – you should just become a Facebook fan and then you'll know too.

This fresh, straightforward floral is an obvious and intelligent attempt on EL's part to appeal to the younger perfume buying crowd. I have a lot of childhood scent memories associated with various Lauder classics, but of all their perfumes, ( not counting the limited edition, no-longer-in-production "Brasil Dream") Pleasures Bloom is the only one I find worthy enough to make space for on my own dresser. I even bought the big bottle, which retails for around $74. However, once again, since we're on the verge of fall, I recommend buying the smaller, 1.7 oz bottle for $52 instead. As lovely as this fragrance is, it's definitely not meant for cold weather. 

This rhubarb-strawberry-but-not-to-sweet concoction has been my summer staple and has elicited more compliments than any other perfume I've ever owned.  It's number 3 in the D&G Anthology series and frankly, it's the only perfume in that set that can stand on its own. I would tell you it's well worth the $65 retail price tag if we were still at the top of summer, but it's practically September so I'm going to tell you to look for it on the internet and expect to pay around $40.

Stella in Two made me flip out and buy the original Stella EDP, and now I want every single fragrance this woman has ever slapped her name on.  I am so enamored with her perfumes that I actually thought about giving her clothing line a chance. Then I decided to stick with her perfumes for now. It hasn't been long since I hated her passionately and inexplicably, after all. I still need time. But I have to say, the Stella EDP is a pretty fantastic start. It's floral, it's ambery, it's probably good for sex (although I haven't test driven it yet), and it's definitely good for an age-appropriate night on the town. It's also $50-$60 for a 3.4 oz bottle which isn't dirt cheap, but it's also far from expensive. You should buy it.

After I fell in love with Stella in Two Peony last week, I had to buy it and its counterpart, the Stella in Two Amber Solid. Holy awesome! Individually they both smell fantastic, but together, they are unstoppable. I have officially reconsidered my stance on everything Stella McCartney has ever made and will probably purchase a bottle of the original Stella EDP next week. The Stella in Two set isn't exactly inexpensive at about $40 for each piece if you get them at an online discount fragrance store. However, they are worth the indulgence, and if you're going to buy either of them, you should really just go ahead and spring for both of them. You will not have buyer's remorse.

Read the review for Moon Sparkle and then think of Ocean Lounge as its younger, sluttier cousin. Ocean Lounge smells even more like candy than Moon Sparkle, has a lot more citrus and definitely a little more sugar. It might not be age appropriate for anyone over 23, but it sure does cheer me up when I have 10 straight hours of work to get through and I can't get my face warm to save my life. A 3.3 oz. bottle can be had for $70 retail or $30-$40 if you do some detective work.