Bulletproof

I'm immediately transported to an Overland Park Mall Montgomery Wards tire shop circa 1988. You know the vibe: linoleum floors scuffed by decades of work boots, the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead, and a grimy coffee pot brewing something that tasted like burnt rubber but somehow kept the mechanics alive. I’m ten years old, perched on a cracked vinyl chair, swinging my legs while my father debates the merits of steel-belted radials with a guy named Rick, who looks like he moonlights in a Twisted Sister cover band. A rerun of The Brady Bunch is on the black and white 10 inch tube telly in the corner above a crispy rhododendron that hasn't been watered since the Seoul Olympics ended last month. Still riding the patriotic wave after Greg Louganis won the gold after hitting his head on the springboard. The opening blast smells exactly like a tower of Goodyear tires which are shiny, rubbery, and just slightly menacing. Then the leathery note kicks in, and I swear it’s the ghost of those cigarette-stained mechanic gloves, the ones that always smelled like Marlboros and WD-40 no matter how many times they got washed. Just when I think I’m choking on nostalgia, a sweet little puff of coconut vanilla sneaks in like the glaze from the day old free donuts by the coffee pot, stale since Reagan’s first term but still good enough to drink with powdered creamer while you wait for your oil change. Wearing this fragrance, I feel like I should be thumbing through a Sear's catalog, dog-earring pages with stereo systems, cassette walkmans, riding lawnmowers, and Jim Palmer in his Jockys while Rick assures my father he can “throw in the floor mats for free.” It’s blue-collar glamour bottled up: half tire shop, half hair rock concert, all attitude. Bulletproof by Tokyo Milk: Because CK Eternity is too fancy and Drakkar Noir doesn’t come with free floor mats.

To make a long story short: I smell like an incense stick being used to stir coconut milk into a steaming mug of tea, and I'm not even mad about it. To make a short story long: When I test fragrances for the first time, I usually spray my wrist first, knowing full well that it will develop wildly different from when I do my usual sprays: one to the throat, one to the midriff. My very first spray of Bulletproof - after stripping off its cellophane and clumsily tearing the box in my excitement - started exactly like Penhaligon's Elixir. That's the only other incense fragrance I own, and my girlfriend hates it on me. I was still excited. Bulletproof had this initial underlying creaminess that set it apart from Penhaligon's "church incense." I couldn't stop sniffing my wrist. It was gorgeous, and I knew it would be different in my full wearing, but I couldn't help falling in love. I'm glad I did my full wearing right away. On my wrist, Bulletproof is straight-up woodsmoke, campfire, everything described here... that dries down to a safe coconut vanilla scent. Which is good, great, and different from anything I own. But as a full wearing developing throughout the day... oh my. Oh. My. I read this described as "dark, mysterious" maybe even aloof? I see that. I definitely see that. However, this dark, mysterious entity has a bright, bubbly friend who can always get him to crack a smile, and that's how I see the coconut interacting with the incense accord. Coconut is broody incense's quirky friend. And I love it. This thing just has that "oomf" I see people sometimes cite as lacking in a fragrance. I'm much too addicted to the blind buy to settle into a signature, but if I had one, this would be it.

Yummy. To me this smells like the end of a day hiking in a dense forest - you can smell tree bark, almost like sawdust, along with much older woods beneath it. You’ve started a fire and brewed a cup of tea over the hot coals, and made it sticky sweet with condensed milk. It’s smoky but with an intoxicating sweetness, the sort of thing that would make you drift off to sleep right in front of the fire. Reading reviews of this scent it’s pretty clear that each person experiences this differently. I’m not sure that I smell coconut- to me it’s more like a sweet soy milk? And there is smokiness here that just isn’t accounted for in the notes listed. On first spray this is all woods and tea, and as it settles into the skin during the day it becomes sweeter and creamier. The woody notes almost disappear and the dry down leans much more gourmand, one review here mentions boba and that’s exactly it. I was unimpressed the first time I tried it, and I maybe used 2 sprays in wintertime. I tried it out again in warmer weather with 5 sprays and fell in love, I ordered a bottle as soon as I got home. It easily lasts 8 hours on me and a little longer on clothes. To me it has that perfect projection where I’ll smell it consistently all day if I spray it on my neck, but others maybe get a waft here and there- not offensive and in your face. This isn’t groundbreaking advice, but get a decent before you go full bottle of this. Just scroll through the reviews, it’s easy to see that the notes and scent profile here don’t really capture what this smells like in person.

For reasons entirely unknown to me, and frankly still under investigation, this perfume turns me into an unsolicited fragrance focus group for women of all ages. Every time I wear it, women ask what I’m wearing. Consistently. Repeatedly. Across demographics. If you want context for my own, apparently defective nose, feel free to scroll down to my earlier review where I explain how I experience this scent on myself. Because whatever they are smelling is clearly not what I am smelling. Case in point: a few weeks ago, the twenty-something front-desk at a hair salon abandoned her post to walk over to my salon chair (my stylist had walked away) to ask if I was wearing LV Imagination. Fast-forward an hour later, I’m bent over the spice rack at Kroger (not for the first time mind you), contemplating celery salt, when a woman in her late fifties above me asks what I am wearing. Fast forward a few minutes when I'm checking out via an actual cashier, the age unknown due to unfortunately applied makeup, gothic cashier asked me what I was wearing. At this point, I’m genuinely perplexed. What pheromonal broadcast signal is this fragrance sending that I’m completely nose-blind to? And more importantly, what am I missing when I smell Bulletproof on myself that the rest of the female population seems to pick up instantly? Insights welcome. Scientific theories encouraged. 😂 PS. I'm unhetero and completely oblivious to being hit upon by women. I'm like an unhetero savant that has no idea if they're simply curious or coming on to me.

This is one of my all time favorite perfumes. Leans more masculine but I don't care because the dry down is everything. I love the creamy coconut as it settles, not fresh but more like toasted creamy coconut. This perfume totally defines me. It's dark, enigmatic, sweet, sexy and a total BADASS! There's nothing like it. The perfume is definitely up to par with the beautiful bottle, I really love when that happens. Woodsy creamy coconut goodness. A little goes a long way, one spray is more than enough for me. For a more yummy Bulletproof, layer with Lait De Coco by Le Monde Gourmand or a vanilla body spray. Dressy date NIGHT type vibes. I don't EVER care about the price when it comes to perfumes, if I love it, I love it, and this one has me obsessed. Songs for this perfume, Whitehouse Road by Tyler Childers, Pride and Joy by Stevie Ray Vaughan, Hippies and Cowboys by Cody Jinks. Way Out Here by Josh Thompson, the part when he says, "Our houses are protected by the good Lord and a gun, you might meet 'em both if you show up here not welcome, son." Diamonds and Gasoline by Turnpike Troubadours, This Damn Song by Pecos & the Rooftops. (just to name a few) while drinking whiskey. This is probably what Man With No Name (Clint Eastwood) smells like in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. BISOUS