CB I Hate Perfume

I love the scents at cb I hate perfume. When I lack stimulation (which is often) I wish I could go here. The scents are subtle and intelligent. I wish they sold a small sample, such as a pick 10, that you could order by mail. It wouldn’t be the same as going to the store, but it’d be better than nothing.
Help me, Christopher Brosius.

Really interesting experience. Never sniffed so many perfumes that I needed coffee grinds to clear my olfactory palate. The perfumes are light and fragrant and do lack the noxious sting of alcohol. Really enjoy their jasmine flower concentrate, will be back for more.

I’ve never been to the shop, so can’t speak about the actual in-​store experience.
The scents are amazing, and I have a stack of them. Thing is, they last maybe 2 hours.

I have been a fan of this place for a long time. With hundreds of single note accords and dozens of premium accords on display, there’s something for everyone… But! None of the single note accords are for sale anymore. Hundreds of bottles are on the shelves to taunt us.
Wait!
There is a handful of single notes left as best-​sellers!
Oh, I already dislike most of the eight of them… Dukes…
Do yourself a favor and go to Duane Reed and buy these same scents by the owner’s first company Demeter. There’s more variaty, the scents last longer, and all at a fraction of the price. Plus, Duane Reed employees will serve less sass than these boys.

I love CB I hate perfume. I have tried samples and only ordered online.
Perfume is not supposed to be over powering. I wear Revelation in the fall/​winter and
Mr. Hulot’s Holiday spring and summer. I get compliments constantly. The scent is subtle… Not like a toxic cloud following you all day.
I hope to make it to the gallery sometime despite some negative reviews.
Online customer service is fast and courteous. I will NEVER wear any other brands
CB is like wearing your memories!!!

I had the exact same experience at I hate perfume as everyone else! The bald guy is a pretentious douche and I had to force him to help me. He did and I walked out with smokey tabacco. The scents are very very unusual. I like unusual, but these are truly strange. I thought of Demeter as soon as I walked in, so it makes sense he was the man in charge.
I think I will go back to Barney’s next time, because its a pleasant experience with plenty of free samples and lots of great perfume lines.
They have this Russian tea room room spray that is incredible but I didn’t have $ 45 to fork over for it.

I firmly believe that I was a perfumier in a former life. Seriously. I love fragrance. I love the science and magic of combining notes to create delicate combinations. But I, too, hate perfume. I hate that anybody can bastardize the powerful act of creating a fragrance for oneself by walking into Sephora and walking out smelling exactly like thousands of other people. But I truly love that nothing can transport you to a time and a place quite like the sense of smell, or captivate one on a physical, emotional, and intellectual level. The sense of fragrance is incredible.
CB I Hate Perfume is a very special place. I myself have been wearing Beach 1966 for years. It’s gorgeous and it really does evoke my childhood New England summers at the beach yet somehow smells only like me. It’s impossibly both modern and timeless.

I found this shop through this fascinating video —
. It’s worth a watch before going to the shop, to understand the ethos and a little background of what their whole deal is. It’s a simple store, with LOTS of scents to sample. Almost too many. My head (well, mainly my nose) was spinning after from trying to get a whiff of everything they have to offer. There are nice little descriptions of the theme of each collection (wood, fire, air, that sort of classification) with relevant quotes from literature about the power of smell. There was an employee there who offered help, though he went back and forth to the sort of back/​upstairs area which is employee-​only. My only interaction with him was asking in awe how they distill and bottle the scents like «fur coat» and «wet mittens». I mean floral scents I understand, spices too. But solid, non-​food items? It’s amazing! He seemed suspicious of my question, as if I was some kind of mole sent by a competitor to steal their methods. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. I really just wanted to know — and even a vague, simplified description would’ve been totally great. He said something about «proprietary methods» and that he can’t really say how the owner does it, so I just sort of gave up and we agreed it seemed kind of like magic.
If I had had more time I would’ve considered buying a small bottle or two (small because this place is not cheap, though I imagine it would be quite worthwhile if I had found something I loved), but it was a wonderful place to peruse and imagine how one might possibly wear «roast beef» or «snow».

Very interesting scents. Wait staff is not super helpful, but if you’re looking for a unique and personal fragrance stop by. I bought the smoky tobacco, it’s lovely.

If you’ve ever wanted to smell like a tire fire that started because you threw your grandfather’s smoldering cuban cigar into a pile of trash, then this is the place for you. You come here for creative and beguiling scents, many of them evocative of memories long forgotten.
Some of you may prefer to smell like every other Uggs-​wearing, bleached blonde, breast augmented clone sucking down a small cup of Yogurtland ooze at the mall. If that’s the case, then the Macy’s perfume counter is to the left, right after the Coach handbags.

I live in L.A. so I ordered via the Internet. I loved the scents I purchased. Samples only of #202 Patchouli Empire, #204 Lavender Tea, #301 Just Breathe, and a handful of others. The sample price was about $ 13 or $ 15 for each one which I thought was pricey. They should have been $ 3 or $ 4 each. The price wasn’t the disappointing part actually, but rather the fact that the scents, as delightful as they are, do not last. The scent is gone after about 90 minutes or so. Even my friends tried various samples I purchased and had the same results. Very disappointing.

This store is worth a special trip to Brooklyn — not just if you live in the city, but if you live anywhere on the East Coast. Make an L train day of it and go vintage shopping afterward, then to Egg for brunch.
I am obsessed with Christopher Brosius’s work and have been since his days at the helm of Demeter, that perfume they sell in Urban Outfitters. His signature scents — most of which are available as concentrated oils, body splashes, and room sprays — play not just with the nose, but with memories and desires: the smell of the sunblock your mom always insisted you wear at the beach (At the Beach 1966 — this scent actually made me cry); old books at your neighborhood library; woodsmoke and a whiff of barbecue on a crisp fall day; the longing you once felt lying in a meadow and staring up at the March sky.
Brosius also sells hundreds of individual notes, so you can make your own perfume if you wish. I once recreated the feeling of being a toddler in my neighbor’s pool by combining Coppertone sunblock, chlorine, and «inner tube.» Then I mixed up the smell of my artist grandmother’s house by combining oil paint and porcelain.
The store is really magical, like something out of Harry Potter, from the clear vials on the walls, to the guys pipetting scents in the back, to the giant mastiff named Zephyr lolling on the floor. I try to make it up there once a year to try out their new scents and stock up on my favorites. Prices are steep if you come in there expecting Demeter, but they’re quite reasonable compared to what you would spend on department-​store perfume ($ 45 room sprays, $ 65-​$ 100 personal scents).
I’ve only got one complaint: none of the scents last that long. The room sprays I’ve bought last an hour max, the body splashes not much longer than that. I’ve had a little more luck with a concentrated oil that smells of bacon and burning leaves, but nothing really sticks to the skin the way my department store perfumes do. Too bad, because these are so much better.

This review isn’t on the fragrances (which are fantastic and innovative) but on the actual in-​store experience.
Upon arrival, you will notice signs everywhere that says «do not try. ask for assistance». not welcoming at all. the staff is situated in the back room and will not acknowledge your presence. i did not realize that you couldn’t go up the back steps. but honestly, that was the only way to wave down someone.
i ended up falling down the stairs and one of the managers nastily said that’s why they don’t allow people up there. one, yes i probably shouldnt but WHEN ALL YOUR BOTTLES SAY ASK FOR ASSISTANCE, WHY AREN’T YOUR EMPLOYEES MORE WILLING TO HELP?

I am so glad I found I Hate Perfume. I ordered from them about three years ago and fell in love. But then I saw the prices and promptly made myself forget. But now that life has relaxed a bit, to the point where I can enjoy the finer things, I Hate Perfume has been at the top of my list.
My favorites are «In the Summer Kitchen,» which reminds me of my Summer trips to Russia, «Walking in the Air», which, although, it does not take me back to snowfall, does make me think of winter, even in the 90 degree weather around here. And last, but most important, is «Under the Arbor». I grew up with grandparents and uncles and aunts with arbors. I’ve been trying to create my own. But when I smell Under the Arbor, I’m seven years old again, playing under the grape leaves. Love it! These aren’t scents, they’re experiences.
Keep doing what you’re doing, CB, I’ll be a loyal customer!

I have to say I wanted to love these scents — and I do — but they’re just not worth the money because they fade so quickly. By the time you get to where you’re going the scent is all but gone.
I used to buy Demeter (many years ago) and give it out as gifts and stocking stuffers… but it was $ 15 per bottle. These are expensive and just don’t deliver, which makes the whole process seem a bit pretentious.

Dear Mr. Brosius,
I have been to CB I Hate Perfume several times now, and each time the experience has left me reeling. It’s easy to understand art in the context of writing or images or music. With contemporary television watching trends, I think much of the population can even understand food as art, a way of expressing emotions and ideas with economy and precision.
It seems like the right way to experience your gallery is left to right (positioned at the entrance). Sniffing the accords is puzzling, wonderful, and occasionally creepy. I don’t know how you managed to cram roast beef or cucumber into a tiny bottle, nor how you managed to pillage my memories with wet stone or Russian leather. Yet there they are, unassuming on your shelf. Sampling from the accords prepares the mind of the — -
What is the word for the visitors to your gallery? We’re not viewers or readers or players or audience. Smellers? I’ll call us the fortunate noses.
—- fortunate nose to partake in your «collections».
Those collections are an awesome experience.
Awesome in the original sense, like the first time you see forks of lightning tatter the sky into a hundred pieces.
Awesome like the instant you realize you’re hearing your favorite song for the first time.
Awesome like the suggestion at the periphery of thought that you might be interacting with something holy.
Painters takes dobs of discrete color and guide them to a half-​smiling lady or lilies on the water, and a dancer assembles thousands of discrete movements into an honest expression of form and motion. You somehow assemble faint ghosts from the past and order them in such a way that the scent clears the cobwebs of memory and forms new relationships between the odor, the memory, and the present. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and I think it must be the recognizable accords. When I smell any mainstream scent, they all seem like they’re trying to exist in a world without inspiring, distinct smells, if that makes any sense. CK One doesn’t smell like anything but CK One. I imagine that’s probably by design.
I am a firm believer that words are rarely enough. As I was leaving your shop the last time, I took a stack of business cards with me, and I hand them out to anyone who will listen when I steer the conversation to your art.
I know I sound effusive. I am simply blown away, and I am an enormous fan.
Thank you so much for widening my understanding of the human experience.

CB’s Burning Leaves perfume conjures mental images of red autumn leaves swirling in the leaping flames of a firepit. I loved the way it smelled on my skin. I love the fall, and any reminder that something good is beyond this grimy, city summer is a welcome one.
But CB’s reminder didn’t last for long. Two or three hours inside, one, maybe two hours outside. The evocative, poetic scent disappears entirely after a few fleeting moments. I’d give five stars for the first impression, but two for staying power.
I’ve also tried In The Library and another scent, but both had the same issue of disappearing shortly after application.

Summer in New York. It’s when I miss the breathtaking sweep of winter, the lusty bonfires of fall, and the cozy snug of a reading nook. It’s when I miss those things… the most.
CB I Hate Perfume is more than a perfume store, it’s a library and
bank of fond memories.
Where else in the city can you visit, and then leave smelling like freshly-​fallen snow, a well-​loved library book, or burning maple leaves?
This place is magical.

I’m an alterna-​perfume collector (witness my ammo boxes full of samples of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, Possets, Blooddrops, and Conjure Oils, to name a few) and CB I Hate Perfume was recommended to me on one of the forums. I spent about a year drooling over the website, but restraining myself from ordering unsniffed since the prices are quite a bit higher than those of other e-​tailers, when at a certain point it dawned on me that the gallery was in Brooklyn, and I ought to drop in the next time I’m in New York.
It was pretty easy to get to the gallery from the Bedford stop on the L– I hardly ever go to Brooklyn, so I may make myself sound stupid here, but I was surprised by how undeveloped and industrial the area was.
The Gallery itself isn’t huge. It has a wall on one side with the fragrance blends, and a wall on the other side with the accords. The man working in the store was friendly and very British. He referred to the accords as single notes, but I think that’s kind of an over-​statement– they try to capture one thing, but I think a lot of different notes go into capturing that. To wit: I purchased a bottle of Strawberry Shortcake, which smells of strawberries, cream, and the baking power-​salty smell of the shortcake itself.
Everything is available for smelling, although the clerk said to ask him before skin-​testing anything– presumably that’s to keep the fragrances uncontaminated, but it kind of scared me away from actually testing anything. The clerk also stayed in the background most of the time, and left the customers to themselves, which I appreciate it– you won’t find any of the department store counter kind of thing where the clerk comes up and spritzes you with something without warning. There are also a number of stools in the center of the room, useful for (a) sitting on as you go through the things on the lower shelves, and (b) setting your bored boyfriend on while you spend an hour smelling everything in the shop.
If you’re not acquainted with the world of underground perfumery, let me warn you that CBIHP’s scents may be somewhat disarming to you. Practically none of them smell like candy or flowers, which it seems is what most people expect from perfume. Also, they tend to be a lot lighter, and aren’t preserved by alcohol. While I was in the store, a group of guys came in, and seemed to be completely thrown by the fact that one of the accords is «Roast Beef», and perfectly captures the smell of roast beef. They asked to smell the most popular fragrance, and were pointed toward At the Beach, which is a mix of sunscreen and ocean water– again, they seemed more confused than anything else. I consider the point of such perfumes to be capturing a mood, a moment, a memory– I appreciate the fact that CBIHP is one of the places that treats perfume like an art form, rather than a cosmetic.
The prices, as I mentioned earlier, are steeper than some other perfumers that I classify in the same category, but I believe they’re lower than couture perfume prices (blends run about $ 60-​$ 80, and most accords are $ 25, although some special ones, like all of the fantastic roses, are $ 120 for 15 ml). But I was charmed by the array available. I strongly recommend the experience of visiting, and give a sniff to everything, even the things that surprise you– try the Chemical family of accords, for example, you’ll be surprised at how evocative they are!

Finally after repeated failed attempts, I made it to CB! The gallery is small but not crowded, with accords (one note scents) lined up along the left wall, and the fragrances lined up along the right wall. A salesperson greeted us upon arrival and gave us a short explanation of the CB concept, Brosius the nose, and the scents available. The oil scents are not to be tested unless we ask for assistance. Noted. Then we were left alone to browse, and I went on a bit of a sniffing frenzy, working my way from one wall to the other.
As befitting the scents of a nose who used to work for Demeter, many of the accords were amazingly photo-​realistic. Ginger ale smelled just like the real thing, with that bright fizzy nose-​tickling bubbliness. Roast beef conjured up the meat exactly, but no, I wouldn’t want to smell like it. Standouts for me were the cold dirt and greens accord Flower Bed, all of the smoke/​burning accords, and Mr. Hulot’s Holiday. I also enjoyed the Tea Rose but would have loved it to feature the tea more prominently. I’d heard so much about Cradle of Light, which features various white flowers including a very dirty jasmine over a base of the CB Musk. Too dirty for me, and expensive at $ 250, but worth smelling.
The perfumes and accords ranged from $ 25-​$ 110. Lasting power varies though the Bonfire my friend bought seemed to have ok lasting power and surprisingly nice sillage for an oil perfume. The salespeople were great about being available for questions without being at all obtrusive, and when I’d decided on a purchase, quickly poured out the oil perfume and packaged it up very nicely.