Tragedy Oil

I was obsessed with tuberose fragrances, until I wasn’t. But this is pulling me back in. Growing up, my grandmother wore Carolina Herrera, Flowerbomb and, of course, Fracas. My mother wore the OG actually good Michael Kors and Carnal Flower. White flowers, to me, were the scent of femininity and glamor. It was the smell of dressing up for dinner, putting on a DVF wrap dress and a fur coat, lipstick, eyeliner, an Elizabeth Taylor assortment of jewels. Just to go to dinner. As I’ve grown older, I’ve found that I’m more of a musk and incense girl. I like to smell cuddly and sexy and interesting, but hazy. Casual. White flowers have a piercing shriek to them that is underserved by a jeans and a t-shirt. But I always kept a bottle of something tuberose around to sniff for comfort, and for any occasions that required an extra dose of glamor and exuberant femininity. For a while, after my grandmother passed, I found it really difficult to smell these sort of scents. But with tragedy I feel like I’ve finally found the tuberose that suits me, and makes me feel connected to the maternal line. The tuberose itself is buttery and intense and very vintage. My brother sniffed and his immediate reaction was “old Hollywood. It smells like a Hollywood actress from the 40s.” But the woody notes are really what brings this home. The fir balsam and the oak moss darken the perfume and add a whiff of cool, mossy almost mentholated androgyny, and actually hold their own against the tuberose. It feels magical and protective, glamorous and voluptuous, with a medicinal edge. A hard-boiled wintry tuberose, rather than a yielding tropical one. I bought this for my mom for Christmas.

There’s something so carnal about this perfume oil. Maybe it’s the sex appeal of an old Hollywood starlet, slinking around in her teddy adorned in purple ostrich feathers. Or maybe it’s the first time you put on your grandmother’s mink coat, ran to her vanity, and sprayed her white diamonds by Elizabeth Taylor, only to succumb to a headache minutes later. Perhaps it’s vintage shopping downtown at your local curated resale shop, a symphony of moth balls, aftershave, spices, and chypres of yesteryear. Nevertheless, it’s an ode to the cyclical nature of luxury. A pure roller coaster of tuberose, oak moss, and sandalwood. It’s haunting, enticing, and comforting, all at once. I sat on purchasing this for a while, and I wish I had purchased this sooner. As a long time Marissa Zappas fan, this is one of her most beautifully transportive yet. Layering combos: cafe tuberosa by atelier cologne or l’air de rien by miller Harris.

The lovely reviewers of this website convinced me to blind buy this scent (especially lynwhoher), and thank god for them. This is one of my all time favorites and what I find myself reaching for the most. It is like if Robert Piguet's Fraca was rebooted (never mind that their bottles are almost identical). As a fan of Ruby McCollister this did not disappoint. It's DRAMATIC. I imagine the hyperactive child taking a deep sigh on a chaise lounge with their hand laid across their forehead to say "woah is me" over the choice of picking which otter pop flavor to consume. It is screaming for attention in a way that I absolutely love. This is a vintage vanity, a tiled bathroom, a night at Chateau Marmont. It screams old Hollywood in a sexy grunge way. I wish I could bathe in it.

An instant love. Smelled the cap and it transported me in the very moment, I'm still not sure to where exactly, but it was visceral. Like many people have been saying, Tragedy is beautifully blended and very very smooth. I want to drown in this. The more I wear it the more it conjures up the image of my grandfather? Not sure why? But specifically images of before I knew him, when he was a young man, a handsome doctor falling terrifically in love with my grandmother. He died a few years ago and I miss him terribly. This fragrance is such a comfort. Lasts for hours, carries me through the day and into the night.

I took myself on a date last night. I got ready listening to some good Edith Piaf, I put a black satin dress and a pearl necklace and I made my hair up on a french chignon. Little did I know I was dressing for this masterpiece of a perfume. Was I in a beach hotel? yes. Was it warm and humid outside? also yes. Did I care, while I was feeling like a character from a film noir, that I was surrounded by pink sugar and SDJ clouds? Not at all. I spent the night in my mysterious glamorous vintage bubble, and I had a bath with a glass of red before saying good night. Thank you Marissa for the emotional travel. 10/10.