Orange blossom week: part 4 - abstract brushstrokes

What is abstract and how it pertains to olfaction? Let's question ourselves. If we're talking about abstraction as the thought process wherein ideas are distanced from objects then there is a whole school of offerings that evoke some distant memory of something through the use of non-representational means, just like in art; especially in Lyrical Abstraction (a term originally coined by Larry Aldrich in 1969 to describe what he saw in the studios of artists at that time)or even Abstract expressionism, of which Pollock is a representative example, on to the geometrical stylisation of Yiannis Moralis.

In such a context it is not hard to see that the rendition of an aromatic note, even such a familiar one as orange blossom, can be sublimated in a way that exalts its effect without featuring its true characteristics. In fact without featuring the actual thing at all!
Aromachemical engineers have the additional ability to use a note that naturally is only a top or heart or even base accent and manipulate it in order to make it last longer or for a lesser amount of time. Therefore orange blossom, a note that in its form of "absolute" is a heart to bottom note may appear out of the vial as soon as we open to smell or indeed neroli (the essential oil from orange blossom) might be discernible throughout a fragrance's development.
It is also possible to use aromachemicals that evoke the essence of orange blossoms like the ghost of someone near and dear appearing out of a desire to see them much like Hamlet's father, in a composition that is centered around them yet contains none. Ingredients that could be used include Aurantiol, Methyl Anthranilate, and Oranger Crystals.
Primary examples of this technique would be amply illustrated by Fleur du Mâle the new fragrance by Gaultier, Narciso For Her by Narciso Rodriguez and Castile by Penhaligon's. Indeed those are fragrances that fine though they are feature such an abstract orange blossom that it is spectral in its appearence rather than physical and tangible, like in examples previously mentioned.

Fleur du Mâle by Galtier has already had a full review at Perfumeshrine. Suffice to say that it is the essence of a fluffy cloud, all hay-coumarin and ersatz orange blossom through the eyes of a master of abstraction and could be worn by women just as easily as men.

Castile by Penhaligon's on the other hand is in another vein. Technically also a masculine fragrance, yet highly asexual in its soapy nature, it soars on notes of clean neroli and bergamot at first to warm up just a bit later on with hazy orange blossom, all the while retaining a clean atmosphere of minimalism.
I have a confession to make at this point. When staying at european hotels -the luxurious kind; I avoid the cheap ones after one horrible experience not due to my choosing which however left me probably scarred for life- I love to enter the bathroom first. Gaze at the white clean towels, all pressed and folded, the bath acroutments, lined up for my using, little soaps on the sink, inhale the aroma of cleanliness and proceed to the pulverised sheets on the bed that are starchy and unlined like big sheets of paper on the desk of a writer longing to be filled with ink recounting thoughts and memories of ambiguous value.
This is what Castile evokes in me: staying in a luxury hotel, posing as some person more important than the prosaic historian that I am, halo of far away distance from mundanity fimly placed on my head and not a care in the world behind my aviator sunglasses. "Clean" in a minimal, austere, yet also friendly way without featuring one sharp or musky note.

Narciso by Narciso Rodriguez on the other hand goes into the other direction of "clean". It has been such an influential, seething discovery in my relatively recent perfume past that I have real trouble talking about it. This might sound like a hyperbole and an unsuccessful one at that, yet I assure you that the way it has sneaked its way into my heart with its wiles is astounding. The concentration in the admittedly confusing range that I am focusing on at the moment is the Eau de toilette, with its sexy ambience of clean musks at the background and the inclusion of an abstract orange blossom touch on the foreground.
Nary does a day go by when wearing it that the passing stranger (and a loved one) does not turn to sniff a little longer, lean a little closer, sometimes even comment on it in complimentary terms. Nary does a day go by when wearing it that I am not trasported in a place of contentment, of confidence, of feeling fresh and young and able to conquer the world on a wink or a smile.
To categorise it as clean or as sexy is doing it an injustice. Its erotic power hinges on the creation of a distinguished, sophisticated eroticism which is ethereal and distanced from heavy seductions that in reality repel rather than entice. The absence of saccharine girliness despite the assured overall youthfulness of the composition speaks highly of a sexual being who is ready to consumate the affair with a playful toss of the leg up in the air and not after losing its virginity at the school's prom dance. Whether that would be the net result in the end is fair game to its paws, but nevertheless this is not the iniative on which the fragrance operates. It hums of unmade beds in homes rather than hotels, where the warmth of humans and the life of lovers has found a nest out of the cold harsh mechanical world outside.
Narciso Rodriguez eau de toilette is said to include notes of honey flower, solar musk, orange flower, amberlyn, tactile musk, and tactile woods.
Amberlyn by the way is a petrochemical that is intended to smell a bit like ambergris. Honey Flower is an evergreen shrub (genus Melianthus)native to Cape of Good Hope.
Too abstract for words really in its aroma-synthetic marvel, this Francis Kurkdjian oeuvre is a masterpiece that has it own place in the pantheon of great scents. I am sure that the future will be kind to its beautiful visage.



Painting "Young Girl" 1971 by greek painter Giannis Moralis courtesy of eikastikon.gr

Orange blossom week: part 3 - rich nuances

"A disturbing wind blows from the east, saturating the city of Seville with the scent of orange. Juan Antonios dark hair flies off his shoulder and whips against his face. The seductive aroma of the orange blossom surrounds him and the perfumed wind wafts past his ears, whispering secrets only he can hear.

Can you smell the orange blossom? murmurs the wind. I love that scent. Do you remember? The wind blows stronger over the Guadalquivir River, lifting with it the raw reminder of a time when spring smelled sweet.
Juan Antonio looks up sharply and stares out over the river, his hand tensing around the fret board of his flamenco guitar. He feels the wind crawling around his neck, blowing past his face. He brushes a strand of hair from his eyes, but the fragrant wind only blows it back.
I can still feel you, whispers the wind. Smell you . . . taste you. The wind tosses a burst of citrus his way. Your hands smell of horses and leather, your lips of chocolate. I will never forget your delicious scent. But, I fear you have forgotten mine.

An angry cloud of orange swirls over Juan Antonio, threatening to engulf him. He yanks a scrap of cloth from his pocket and ties his hair back with the tattered fabric. Then he shouts to the perfumed wind. Dejame! Leave me alone! Frantically, he clamps the back of his hand against his nose to block out the opressive sweetness, but it is impossible to block the scent that the wind lifts. The seductive aroma of the azahar, the orange blossom, lives inside of him . . . tormenting him . . . robbing him of the peace he longs to find."

The above is an excerpt from the novel in progress Azahar by Susan Nadathur.
It captures well the ambience that a rich orange blossom perfume evokes in me: the south, its passions, its over the top sensualism, bravado, cheesiness even, yet also familiarity, tenderness, childhood memories of car hops across country, blossoms that die slowly in my lap under the heavy sun, cut too soon from the tree.
The intense sweetness of a lush orange blossom that has peaked, in its prime, with honeyied tones and is ready to yield fruit is trully unforgettable.

If we try to deconstruct the etymology and nuanced meanings of the word "richness" we come up against:

1.Possessing great material wealth
2.Having great worth or value: a rich harvest of grain.
3.Magnificent; sumptuous: a rich brocade.
4. a. Having an abundant supply: rich in ideas.
b. Abounding, especially in natural resources: rich land.
5. Meaningful and significant
6. Very productive and therefore financially profitable
7. a. Containing a large amount of choice ingredients, such as butter,sugar, or eggs, and therefore unusually heavy or sweet.
b. Having or exuding a strong or pungent aroma.
8. a. Pleasantly full and mellow.
b. Warm and strong in color.
9. Containing a large proportion of fuel to air: a rich gas mixture.
and 10. Informal, highly amusing.

All this according to The Free Dictonary by Farlex.

I think for our purposes, all of those terms and definitions apply.
A "rich" orange blossom perfume can be wealthy in that it exudes luxury, costly, sumptuous because of its magnificent aroma, mellow and full, strong and abundant, suggesting lushness and opulence, sweet yet also amusing, playful and warm. It can be all these things. And it performs these tasks admirably.
This is why my heart aches a bit whenever I catch a whiff of the abundance of orange blossom in strangers' passing-by-scent. The trail of opulence...

So, to evoke those memories and associations I chose the following perfumes that smell as rich and sweet as orange blossom in Andalucia does in spring:
Zohar by Ayala Moriel, 24 Faubourg by Hermes, Poeme by Lancome and Boucheron Femme by Boucheron.

Ayala's Moriel Zohar uses the hebrew word for enlightment and brilliance to render a very fine, luxurious soliflore that sprakles like a fine jewel under a hot glaring sun. Centered around Orange blossom absolute garlanded with tuberose and jasmine that add to its white floral theme without veering it into the excessive headache producing effect that some other heavy "whities" produce, it is a true gem. The top notes of fresh citrus essences like the japanese fruit yuzu and the divine cleaner neroli note pierce your nostrils playfully giving way to the abundant heart of the nucleus that intermingles warm amber and honey in an arabesque worthy of Alcazar. The slight rubberiness of true, natural tuberose plays hide and seek all along with alluring results, much lighter than that featured in Fleurs d'Oranger by Lutens, like a princess hidden under a veil in one of the corridors of the palace.

You can sample or order clicking here.

24 Faubourg by Hermès , named after the eponymous address of the House, reminds me of a wealthy protagonist in a classic old Hollywood movie: dressed in a light beige belted trenchcoat, impecably coiffed hair under a heavy silk scarf bearing a prestigious signature, wrapped on her precious little head, lipstic in deep coral, complexion of peaches and cream, out in a sports convertible driving on the slopes of Monaco without a care in the world but always in control of herself. The brilliance of the sun and the warmth of late spring in the air, cinemascope colours melting in amber as the afternoon approaches. If ever there was a trace of the essence of wealth and opulence rolled into one this would be it.
Do not opt for the version Eau Délicate though: the above effect can only be achieved by the Eau de parfum or better yet pure parfum/extrait.

Poême by Lancôme was launched with the darling sensitive face of Juilette Binoche and with verse by Baudelaire which would make it endearing despite its smell to my artistic heart. However an overindulegence by women in their 30s all along the 90s along with the bestseller Trésor by the same house left me with apprehension and tentative in ever owning a full bottle. Touted to be centered on datura flower (a flower of the desert) and Tibetan blue poppy (a very rare blossom), it smells of neither particularly; instead it launches on wild, unmistakable orange blossom arpeggios that are supported by potent cassis and amber notes, further sweetened by the -needless in my opinion- addition of vanilla and tonka bean. This is certainly a rich smell; not however in the manner in which Lancôme intended it to be. Too sweet, maybe too strong, Poême appears to be a little heavy handed and suffers as a result from it, despite its lushful heart. Is it any wonder that Juliette Binoche is in reality a Cristalle fan?

Boucheron Femme by the jeweler Boucheron is last but not least on our list of rich orange blossom scents. Althouth this one is much more of a floriental with all that entails, it has such a sublime, sunny and warm presence that it yelled in french (these were no crude yells, tu comprends) to be included in this line up, like the usual suspect of wealth purveyor that it is. Balanced and poised on the beauty of benzoin and olibanum on a powdery base rich in sandalwood it infuses its rich aroma from afar and entices its victims to fall prey to your guiles, tasting apricots and mandarins and lapping their greedy fingers in delicately hushed licks. In a gold bottle topped with a sapphire top like the gems Boucheron is famous for, it evokes luxury the Parisian way: old style, top clarity, lots of carats, but never ostentatious.

Next post will be in yet a different vein.

Pic of Baños de Doña María de Padilla in Alcazar, Seville, Spain courtesy of quovadimus.org.

Orange Blossom week: part 2 - sexy aromas

What is it that links orange blossom to sexy aromas? Many of the interpretations of this note in perfumery take advantage of the naturally lush and sexual aroma of the blossoms and in our investigation of this subject we have come up against many interesting tidbits of information that might help elucidate why and how.

The use of perfume as an enhancement and not concealement of genitalia and hormone odours has been in practice till ancient times. It was the knowledgable ancient Egyptian women who used Kyphi rolled in miniscule balls, placed in the vulva. They also used amber mixes and civet. The Hindus also used the smell of female genitalia as a classification point for women, in which no one is left unappareciated. In Shakespeare's times it was common for men and women to offer apples to the object of their affection that had been saturated in the sweat of the armpit. That was meant to be a signification of desire and perhaps an early attempt at judging whether the prospective lover's pheromones would intermingle well with their sensibilities.
In the Memoirs of Casanova, we come across an observation that there is a hidden something in the air of a lover's bedroom that would make it very easy to choose between it and Heaven itself. So much is the infatuation that a beloved's body produces in the soul. And on that note who can forget the infamous epistle of Napoléon to Joséphine when he passionately wrote to her: "Je réviens en trois jours; ne te lave pas!" (I return in three days, don't wash yourself)
Anais Nin and Henry Miller were no strangers to the alchemical nature of the odorata sexualis of a lover that can be enhanced by perfume and Nin's personal choice of Caron's Narcisse Noir (a fragrance rich in orange blossom)and Guerlain's Mitsouko shows an appreciation for blends that enhance a person's natural sexual aroma. Beaudelaire, Flaubert (who kept the mittens of his mistress on a drawer for sniffing purposes), Goethe and Reiner Maria Rilke are also literature figures that occupied themselves with the fragrant nature of seduction.
Even in our more pedestrian times the allure of the erotic has been used to great effect in advertising. From Schocking by Schiaparelli to Ambre Sultan by Lutens to Boudoir by Westwood, many perfumes have claimed to capture in fragrant droplets the odorata sexualis of a woman for seduction purposes. Last olfactory example of this being Tom Ford' attempt at it when he proclaimed that his last fragrance Black Orchid was supposed to smell of a man's crotch. I think not, but hey, you have been warned!

Of course like a plethora of things in life much of the effect of something relies on context. Meaning that leaving youself unwashed would not shill your charms to potential lovers necessarily if some particular smell is not pleasant to them or the sweat is rank. It all has to do with delicate proportion and adjustment. In a fascinating experiment by Paul Jellineck, recounted in Essence and Alchemy, people had been asked to smell versions of well-known frags such as Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant and a traditional eau de Cologne with and without the addition of neroli. In the former case the neroli just mingled with the other floral substances adding a fresh note and balancing them, whereas in the latter it seemed sultry and rich and therefore erotically nuanced. This goes to show that although there is a clear cut path to lust and sexuality, eroticism in perfume as in any other area is complex and subtle, dependent on context and associations that need a delicate hand in placing them there.

So how orange blossom is linked to all these exciting observations? Let me shock you a bit in case you were unaware of the fact. Orange Blossom (as well as jasmine) is filled with the fascinating indole.
According to Encyclopedia Brittanica:

Indole, also called Benzopyrrole, is a heterocyclic organic compound occurring in some flower oils, such as jasmine and orange blossom, in coal tar, and in fecal matter. It is used in perfumery and in making tryptophan, an essential amino acid, and indoleacetic acid (heteroauxin), a hormone that promotes the development of roots in plant cuttings. First isolated in 1866, it has the molecular formula C8H7N.

It is this base ingredient that is so abundant in white florals -among them orange blossom to a moderate degree- that apparently gives a nod to the human aspect of our existence and reminds us of our primeval objects in life: to have sex and procreate. In this context it is no accident that orange blossom is traditionally used in wedding wreaths, as discussed yesterday.
Therefore if a catcall to carnality is your objective, yet you want to go about it more discreetly than resorting to civet (the pungent extract of the anal glands of a species of the Viverridae shaped like a small fox and native to Abysinnia, Java, Borneo, Sumatra and Bengal and farmed in Ethiopia for perfume purposes), orange blossom can be a Heaven sent destined to confine you in the abyss of Hell.

For this purpose there is no better choice than the rich, sultry, lush and totally feminine with a capital F Fleurs d'oranger by Serge Lutens. Luckily a part of the export line, but also available in a beautiful bell jar in the exclusive Palais Royal for Shiseido line of scents, it is the essence of classy sexiness captured in a bottle. Like a woman of mature wiles sitting under an orange grove contemplating serious romance and seduction it is multi-nuanced with precious essences of white jasmine and indian tuberose that enhance the indolic aspect to magnificent proportions, laced with the sprinkle of fiery spice like cumin and nutmeg rolled in tangy citrus peel, all the while exuding aromas of muskiness and floralncy in alrernative overlappings like the tongue of a skillful lover. The inclusion of rose and hibiscus seeds consolidates the velours aspect of a base that never really leaves the skin, reminding you of happy romance even after it is just a distant memory in the farthest corners of your mind.


Next post will tackle another aspect of orange blossom.

Art photography by Spyros Panayiotopoulos, courtesy of eikastikon.gr

Orange blossom week: part 1- true renditions

Orange blossom is one of the most usual floral notes used in perfumery and its glorious slightly fruity, sweet and pervasing yet fresh scent has been brandishing its charms in traditional colognes and eaux de toilette for centuries.
Although an unmistakably floral in tone aroma it does hint of the fruit to come in a very elegant way that aromachemicals cannot mimic satisfactorily.

The word "orange" comes from Sanskrit "narang" or Tamil "naraththai". Another theory pertains that it is tied to a Dravidian root meaning "fragrant".
Oranges originated in southeast Asia in fact which is not unrelated to etymology (in India, Vietnam or southern China). The fruit of Citrus sinensis is called sweet orange to distinguish it from Citrus aurantium, the bitter orange.
Some languages have different words for the bitter and the sweet orange, and one of them is indeed Modern Greek which differentiates bettween bitter (nerantzi) and sweet (portokali which derives from Portuguese). The reason for these differences is that the sweet orange was brought from China to Europe during the 14th century for the first time by the Portuguese. For the same reason, some languages refer to it by "Applesin" meaning "Apple from China".
It is common to come across mentions of "arancia" or "arancio" ~deriving from latin~ on perfume bottles in italian as well as "zagara", "naranja" in spanish while in hebrew the name is "Zohar", also reflected in the portugeuse language.


Bitter orange is trully the pig of perfumery as it gives us so many aromatics for perfumes: the essential oil of the blossom, the heady and viscous absolute from the flowers that is rendered through a solvent extraction, cool neroli from a different method of manipulation of the flowers (distillation) that gives an aroma that is tangier, slightly more bitter and thus a little more atsringent and fresher, bitter orange oil from the rind of the fruit with its sweet-bitter scent, and the more masculine in tone, greener petit-grain from the distillation of twigs and leaves.

Orange blossom absolute is a miracle to behold both in terms of cost and its elusiveness. Some can even smell rank if not of the proper quality and only the real, quality thing can be the heady touch that turns heads and makes you weak in the knees as if catching a whiff of it passing a sunny orange grove in April.
The includion of orange blossom is de riguer in many oriental mixes, although its role is not limited to those: it features as a protagomist in many eau de colognes along with its sidekick neroli as well as in chypres and elegant florals.
Termed a white floral for its small white, slightly waxy petals, it is one of the loveliest blossoms to adorn a homemade bouquet and it has long been the state flower of Florida. The blossom is also emblematic of Riverside in California, famous for its Navel or Washington variety of oranges.
It is traditionally associated with good fortune and for that reason it was popular in bridal bouquets and head wreaths for weddings for some time. Even now in Greece and the Mediterranean it is customary for wedding taking place in villages or by the sea to adorn the head of the bride with simple small blossoms, which is very becoming especially on the naturally darker hair of those women. Folk songs have been composed drawing parallels between the bushy, fragrant head of a bitter orange tree with the head of a lovely lady.
The petals of orange blossom can also be made into a delicately citrus-scented version of rosewater, called "anthonero" (flower water). Orange blossom water is a common part of Middle Eastern and Mediterranean cuisine and it features in both sauces and in pastries. One such is the famous kourambiedes, an Easter and Christmas cookie that is made with rich butter and crushed almonds, rolled into dust sugar and gloriously eaten with coffee after meals. You can see a recipe for them here.
Orange blossom honey is a variation of honey that is not unusual in those areas of the world either: it is produced by putting beehives in the citrus groves during bloom, useful for agriulture as well as it pollinates seeded citrus varieties. Orange Blossom honey is highly prized for its peculiar, delicate like orange taste that differentiates it from aromatic honeys from thyme blossoms or pines.
Orange blossom even gives its touristic nickname to the Costa del Azahar ("Orange-blossom coast") in Valencia, a place that provides lots of orange fruit throughout Europe.

Starting our exploration of orange blossom, we focus on the more realistic interpretations of this heady and fresh note as attested by the following fragrances:
Fleur d'oranger by L'artisan Perfumer, Jo Malone Orange blossom Côté Bastide Fleurs d'oranger and I profumi di Firenze Zagara.
All of them explore the fresher, tarter aspect of the note, in various degrees and nuances.

The golden standard is indeed Fleur d'oranger by L'artisan parfumeur, based on a single harvest of Nabel in Tunisia, in 2004 and basing its exclusive and unfortunately very ephemeral success on the quality of that exceptional crops that yielded its sweet and light aromas into the embrace of a master perfumer such as Anne Flipo (who was responsible for Verte Violette and La Chasse aux papillons in the L'artisan stable of thoroughbreds).
It launched in 2005 for a very limited number of bottles for a very costly price, encased in a wooden box like a vintage of precious wine. And it is indeed precious in its single-minded loveliness that wraps you in cool cotton sheets of luminosity and joy. Its crystalline appearence shimmers in the light like a precious Baccarat ornament and it enslaves you upon testing as the truest soliflore on orange blossom created. Although light in tone it has good tenacity which adds to its charms. It is a pity that when the distribution ends there will be no more...

Jo Malone's Orange Blossom is a sweeter rendition which lacks the crystalline aspect of L'artisan, however it is quite close to the actual blossom and is very realistic, denoting a high percentage of natural essences used. The opening is a but fruiter and has a hint of the zest but it soon develops into the white floral that is so beloved by people of the South. The marriage of clementine leaves (a comparable species) and water lilies gives a limpidity and airiness that transports this into sunny climates and white clothing paired with silver jewels worn on a casual walk. It is unaffected, elegant and very popular in Greece, proving to be the bestseller of Jo Malone's line during the warmer months according to my sources in the company.

Zagara by I Profumi di Firenze is a citrusy gregarious thing based on the tart and cool elegance of bergamot that segues into notes of the white flower restraining the sweetness and injecting happiness and joy. It is deliriously happy and cheerful and it can be relied upon to lift spirits and rejuvenate on hot days.

Côté Bastide's Fleurs d'oranger rendition is also exceptionally true and light with a hint of citrus and green tonalities that lend a slight bitter edge that is again reminsicent of the living tree and the surrounding air. It is its greatest strength and its stamp of approval. Eminently wearable in summer and highly recommended for stuffy offices and homes.


Next post will tackle a different interpretation of the orange blossom note.

Painting "Man in Hat" by greek painter Nicolaos Lytras courtesy of allposters.com.

Eau de Star by T.Mugler: fragrance review

When a fragrance has been instrumental to producing a spawn of successors that try to emulate or imitate or at least to bear a passing affinity with, you know you’re in the presence of greatness and innovation, even if said fragrance is such a powerhouse as to produce feelings of either love or hate.
Angel by Thierry Mugler is such a fragrance: polarizing, powerful, combustible, sensual, decadent, even a little bitchy on certain individuals.
Its exclusively synthetic nature exploring facets of airy notes such as hedione and helional coupled with the hay of coumarin, the bitterness of chocolate and patchouli and the deviousness of caspirene was paramount to it becoming an instant sensation that rocked the perfume world when it came out in 1992 in an era of limpid, watery creations of which L’eau d’Issey was the contestant with the greater pull. It took a while, yet Angel prevailed, introducing a whole new category of scents, the gourmands: oriental scents that rely on foody notes to evoke images of childhood and comfort or a playful sensuality a la 9 ½ weeeks that interjects food into sexual play.
It is no accident that it is le numero 1 in sales in France, capital of perfume in the world, even giving a jolt at the ribs to the classic Chanel no.5 with its iconic status.

The new Eau de Star is the latest feminine addition to formidable stable of Mugler, after the latest exploration of tinkering with the original formula in the forms of Garden of Stars, a collection of four exquisite bottles topped with a star with an angular point in various shades exploring the addition of a floral note to the singularly floral-less original Angel. Violet, Lys, Pivoine and Rose were the chosen blossoms and the results ranged from the almost pareil (Violet) to the friendlier and cozier cousin coming to visit for the holidays (Pivoine). Although the bottles were gorgeous as is always the case with the Mugler enterprise, none of the scents moved me enough to buy a new bottle for my collection, especially since I already had invested in the acquisition of the lovely Innocent: a softer take on Angel with the patchouli toned down and sugared almonds and meringues surfacing on an unexpected marriage of true minds lost in an everlasting reverie.
Incidentally, the Star association is not something out of the blue (pun intended) either. Mugler has considered stars his lucky charms ever since his first foray into designing those alien-like women with the sharp shoulder pads in the 1980s which had crimson lips and slashed lined eyes like amazones from Galactica. He wears the star symbol himself as a tattoo and a signature ring. However the lucky charm practice is not unheard of in the greater design world, from Christian Dior who put a lily of the valley blossom on every hem of couture to Coco Chanel who chose the number 5 as the one to signify her foray into perfumed business to coincide with her launching her couture on 5 May(fifth month)upon that fateful year of no.5's introduction.

Eau de Star comes now to make me re-consider whether I should purchase another one of that franchise of which Innocent has captured my heart for cozy and frolicky soirees. I haven't decided yet, as I think it merits more sampling first which I am planning to do in due time.
Not a limited edition, but a firm addition, to be followed by the complimentary Icemen for discerning males, Eau de Star is built around the word eau, aqua, water….The addition of such a word to something like Angel sounds like an oxymoron, as the denseness of the latter does not recall any body of the former in anyone’s mind. Yet the creative mind behind this new fragrance, namely
Louise Turner at Quest, managed to combine the limpidness of watery, aquatic notes -which usually make me shudder- with a floral heart and sensual patchouli base that is not the same as Angel yet retains a passing kindred spirit.
The fragrance begins on a tart and crystalline note of fruit that is intermingled with fresh notes like those used to render cucumber aromas in such scents as En Passant by Olivia Giacobetti for F.Malle. Although this might sound scary to perfume lovers of serious and deep perfumes, especially those who focus on classics, I assure you it is not something to make anyone run for the hills trying to catch their breath; on the contrary it makes for a sparkly, pleasant effect that upon spraying the new scent on my skin in the space of a couple of minutes two different individuals stopped and turned swiftly and asked me with some impatience what was that gorgeous scent I was wearing. (I call this a success. Don’t you?)
The succeeding stages do not disappoint, as the progression is to something vaguely floral coupled with unmistakable orientalised effluviums of patchouli and vanilla that manage not to become overwhelming but linger seductively with a sensuality that is reminiscent of the cuddly dry down phase of Innocent.
However the new scent is like neither, but holds its own ground. A flanker maybe (a term denoting the succeeding perfumes that capitalize on the success of one original scent), yet an individual creation that could be worn in warmer weather when Angel and Innocent do not often make one welcome in mixed company. A lighter, aqueous interpretation of a gourmand theme.

The bottle is a heavy glass affair of three sides with the signature star etched on the front, topped with a silver geometrical cap bearing the logo of the brand.
Eau de Star comes in Eau de toilette concentration in 25 and 50ml and a refillable bottle of 50ml (1.7oz)retailing at 41.8, 61.5 and 71.5 euros respectively.
Available at French Sephora and across Europe with plans to be introduced to the US later on alongside the masculine new scent Icemen (of which I will report later on).

The line is also accompanied by a transparent lipgloss that is called Gloss Lèvres Délicieuses (=delicious lips), perfumed with the notes of Eau de Star and encased in a rectangular tube with wand, retailing at 15.90 for 4.5ml at French Sephora. I haven’t tried this one yet, but if one is truly enamored with the scent I guess having it under one’s nose would provide their fix admirably.



Pic of bottle courtesy of Elle.fr and of gloss courtesy of Sephora.fr

Fragrant news: new Frédéric Malle scent

The following exciting info comes from Osmoz.com:

In May, Fréderic Malle will be launching a new fragrance designed by perfumer Pierre Bourdon and christened "French Lover". Frédéric Malle’s original idea was to create a fuller-bodied version of the scent Angéliques sous la Pluie. But the creator and the perfumer soon went beyond that concept to come up with a sophisticated men’s scent, ‘super-sensual, but not trashy.’ The ingredients include dazzling green notes of pimento and galbanum, iris, cedar, trimofix, angelica, frankincense and vetiver. Mosses, musks, ambroxan and karanal bestow ‘a kind of plant-based animal quality that immediately evoked the smell of a man’ [for the creators]. 1.7 fl. oz.: €90; 3.4 fl. oz.: €135.

Please note that this the third one in the line that will be named with an english name after Lipstick Rose and Carnal Flower.
Ambroxin is a synthetic amber note, while trimofix is a fixative with ambergris, mossy and vetiver-like tonalities and the karanal aromachemical has a woody ambery tone.

Sounds exciting and wily!

Pillow of flowers by A.Martinez: fragrance review

To encounter perfumes that are vaguely inspired by masterful creations is one thing. To actually sample them to find out that they have a wonderful character of their own is another and it was that latter pleasant discovery that enthralled me recently when I sampled the latest creation by Armando Martinez, a fledging Nevada niche perfumer who is working with a great appreciation for the classics of long ago in his heart and a steady hand in dosage and composing in his creations. Since here at Perfume Shrine we like to give everyone talented an opportunity to get their message across and not just those who send out press releases and free bottles for the plucking, it was only natural that our interest was piqued by his newest release.
His first scent Maquillage which had been duly reviewed here on Perfume Shrine some time ago was a very successful rendition of that elusive and glamorous girly stuff that we put on our faces (and decadent décolletage sometimes) face powder: the old fashioned kind in the exquisitely gilded compacts applied with the great puffs of swan down in great big gusts like silver screen sirens used to. The imagery of a modern day Veronica Lake or Jean Harlow in her boudoir powdering herself was evoked by the delicate rosy undertone of Maquillage luring us into glimpsing the hidden aspect of the feminine mystique at its scheming stages.
Now comes Pillow of Flowers to evoke a less conniving aspect of the feminine process, none the less alluring though and with an added peel of complexity to make us delve a little deeper into Armando’s Martinez psyche and unearth images of glamorous ladies that have impressed him with their elegance and élan.

Armando admits that the inspiration behind Pillow of Flowers was the great aldehydic fragrance by Ernest Beaux, that Russian émigré working for Chanel, no.22.
An aldehyde is an organic compound containing a terminal carbonyl group, i.e., a O=CH- group attached to hydrogen or a carbon chain. This functional group, which consists of a carbon atom bonded to a hydrogen atom and double-bonded to an oxygen atom (chemical formula -CHO), is called the aldehyde group. They basically appear as strings of Carbon atoms that are named after the amount of the latter they contain.
Since they are organic matter, organic material may have them such as plants and in fact many do. But the aldehydes in perfumery are manufactured, in the lab. They were among the first synthetic ingredients used, most notably in the iconic Chanel no.5. Those with an interest in them can read more clicking here and here.

Chanel No22 shines like a lustrous moonstone with a touch of platinum mounting, illuminating the night with its mysterious and uplifting qualities and transporting the wearer to an era of flappers wearing long strings of pearls and bobbing their hair a la Fitzerald.

With such an ambitious prototype Armando put all his art into weaving chiffon-like textures into the manipulation of white florals such as jasmine, orchid, ylang ylang and tuberose along with the opulence of various kinds of rose (damascena and centifolia) and cassie (acacia farnesiana, that yellow pom-pom blossom) rendering a rich impression of being buried in an armload of blossoms. Synthesized notes of lilac and lily of the valley are also present, following the freshness of initial top note of bergamot and neroli (which do not appear flamboyantly but instead quickly leave the limelight to the real protagonists, the florals). The whole is lucidly balanced and supported by a lingering sparkling base containing aldehyde C11, an unusual touch in the base of a fragrance, contrary to the common perception that aldehydes are only top notes adding fizz like the bubbles of Veuve Cliquot; just a hint since it is quite a potent smell by itself. Armando is using his restrained hand to instil just a smidgeon, paired with the lightest touch of frankincense, which accounts for a retro feel that is eminently admirable without ever smelling obsolete. A clean element like French triple-milled soap is also responsible for the light feel it gives upon drying down which adds to the beauty of the whole, featuring light notes of vanilla and opoponax.
The slightly powdery bases that Armando Martinez uses are always soft and cuddly and remind one of the comfort of soft materials worn on bare flesh. This one lingers quite seductively without losing its core message which is one of nostalgia for a bygone era of great style.
In a market inundated with same old same old, this fragrance is cutting a quiet dash with its mesmerising elegance and its satiny façade that reveals the woman behind the perfume and not the other way around.
I am very eager to try out everything new this wunderkid is trying to accomplish next and wish him success upon his forthcoming presentation in premier site First in Fragrance.

The Pillow of Flowers fragrance notes are:
neroli, bergamot, jasmine, tuberose, roses (multi-varieties), lily of the valley, lilac, orchid, cassie, vanilla, vetiver, frankincense, opoponax and aldehydes (the magical component of the creation).

This scent comes in a 2 ounces (60ml) size Eau de Parfum spray bottle, lovingly put together for you upon request.

Purchase price: $65.00 a bottle
Perfumes by Armando Martinez can be purchased or sampled by contacting him through his blog Parfums d'Armando Martinez or by mailing him at mandocmartinez@yahoo.com.

I am sure you will be in for a great pleasant surprise. I assure you that no one will be smelling quite as lovely as you will.

Pic comes from film "Pillowtalk" with Doris Day.

Fleur du Mâle: fragrance review

It was Charles Beaudelaire, the iconoclast 19th century “damned poet” who had said: “My soul travels on the smell of perfume like the souls of other men on music.”And because he has written poetry that transcends the Victorian of his times into the daring exploration of the erotic in quite a frank way, reminding the world that women and men smelled of quite a lot of things, “good” and “bad” as well, he is often referenced in perfume discussion as a resource of brilliancy in olfactory description and imagery.
It was not surprising then that his collection of poems titled "Les Fleurs du Mal" (flowers of evil) has been half the inspiration behind the new Gaultier masculine fragrance, Fleur du Mâle, which plays upon the word Mal in such a way as to remind as of Le Mâle (the masculine), the first perfume in the line that proved to be such a bestseller and which is still making huge profits for the company after more than a decade after its launch in 1995.

Le Mâle was a very tongue in cheek creation by nose Francis Kurkdjian both in presentation and aroma, as it capitalized on the popular gay reference of the sailor with its mattelot top and Breton insouciance torso bottle, clean shaven men in the ads and gym-rippled muscles, though ~ hardly the hardship of a real sailor! It explored avenues of the classic fougère construction, a recipe that imitates the smell of ferns in a forest, usually based on lavender. Lavender thus it was that dominated the ambience of Le Mâle, but with such a potent sweetness and cuddliness alongside as to toss the commonly butch image of the classic fougère and render it quite daring in the arsenal of the male of the species. Many men report that it has worked wonders in their pursuit of the opposite sex (or even the same sex when playing for that team) judging by the following it has on various discussion boards; which consolidates the fact that it is actually mostly women who go after the sweet touch in perfume and not vice versa as is so often touted to be.

So what does Fleur du Mâle have to offer anew? According to the press release in Women’s Wear Daily Léa Vignal-Kenedi,, head of the fragrance division of Jean Paul Gaultier, said: “Over the past 12 years [since the introduction of the original Le Mâle], many barriers have been lifted for men." Gaultier “…wanted to speak of this blooming of today's masculinity, of joie de vivre, of happiness" . Let’s not forget that this is the brand that introduced makeup for men in the form of bronzers, liners and light balms in their line Le Beau Mâle.
It seems that men are focused on in a new way and there has been lots of talk about the overabundance of orange blossom in the formula of the new fragrance, a note associated with happiness, lightness, freshness in a floral way, while simultaneously the new scent carries on the fougère accord of the original.
The new scent is composed by the same man, the very talented Takasago’s perfume nose Francis Kurkdjian, responsible for some of the most successful -in my personal opinion- fragrances of recent years such as the abstract beauty of Narciso for Her , the vague and delicate poise of Rose Barbare by Guerlain , almost the entire perfume stable of Gaultier (Le Mâle, Fragile and Gaultier2, with the notable exception of Classique), Armani Mania for men with its classy accords, the light velvet and yellow cotton of Cologne Blanche for the exclusive line of Dior and the smooth skin baked in the sun of Aquasun by Lancaster.
Mr.Kukdjian excels in rendering abstract accords of ambience music with a smooth progression and a slightly powdery feel that departs from the mossy feel of old or the makeup smell of traditional face powder, rendering interpretations of them in a modern and young way that seems fresh and new.

It almost illustrates this passage below from Beaudelaire:
“Exotic Perfume”
Islands of Lethe where exotic boughs
Bend with their burden of strange fruit bowed down,
Where men are upright, maids have never grown
Unkind, but bear a light upon their brows.
Led by that perfume to these lands of ease,
I see a port where many ships have flown
With sails out wearied of the wandering seas…

Although orange blossom is lauded as the dominant note in this new offering, even pictured in the advertising images which depict a young happy smiling male in a white tub full of white petals shot by Jean-Baptiste Mondino (how probable would that be realistically? I’m asking you), I am betting that there isn’t any actual orange blossom essence in there and the whole is rendered through the alchemy of synthetic components, just like in his masterful Narciso for Her which also supposedly features an orange blossom top note in the Eau de toilette concentration. This is orange blossom through the lens of a kaleidoscope, not the essential oil or absolute that is rendered by the actual blossom. And I am not saying that to diminish its value, because it creates an effect that is indescribable and very pleasing indeed. Along with a sharper and slightly bitter note of petit-grain (which makes a very brief opening impression), the light florancy is paired with the sustained fluffiness of copious amounts of hay-like coumarin and what smells to my nose like heliotropin, much as has already been explored in Cologne Blanche by Dior, to which I would designate this one as the more common, low-brow but equally interesting relative. Aspirations of grandeur are not present in Fleur du Mâle and why should there be anyway: it aims to please and comfort the wearer and the entourage and it succeeds admirably on both accounts as it has very good lasting power on the skin (through the next day even, in my personal test) and a pleasant, yet non-invasive sillage that is very welcome.
The white torso bottle in a white tin, which echoes the original blue one of Le Mâle, is tamer and not as ironic as the latter, something that is reflected in the advertising images as well, rendering this one more feminine and less likely to be picked up by a man, although of course blinkered approach does not work well in most perfume choices where individuality and taste matter more than arbitrary distinctions of what constitutes male and female. It remains to be seen if it will actually be bought by men all by themselves.
Instead I picture that the actual target group of the fragrance will prove to be women of all ages who will revel in its cloudy softness that resembles a Claude Monet sunset.
I for one would love to receive this.


Fleur du Mâle is available in 40, 75 and 125ml bottles of eau de toilette and an alcohol-dree deodorant stick, in major department stores.

Painting San Giorgio Maggiore by twilight by Claude Monet courtesy of fulcrumgallery.com. Pic of ad courtesy of Escentual.

Incense week: 7.Pyrocaustic deep incense for Easter's Eve

 Editor's preface: If you haven't the faintest idea why a series of posts on incense scents mentions religious stuff and cultural associations, please refer to the first post of this Incense Week series to understand my concept. 


Here you can find post 2, post 3, post 4, post 5 and post 6 before final 7th post below.

Holy Saturday is the day between Jesus’ death and His resurrection, so the day is full of watchful expectation, mourning slowly transformed into joy. The day embodies in the fullest possible sense a joyful-sadness. On Great and Holy Saturday morning, the Orthodox Church commemorates Christ’s decent into Hades and the releasing of the souls of all who were held captive by death. An explosion takes place, the Hymns tell us that "Hades lets out a groan", as the doors to Hades (the otherworld of greek mythology) are blown open and the "locks and chains" used to imprison the souls are tossed aside and rendered useless as Jesus raises the dead and resurrects them all.

The hymnographer of the Church has penetrated this profound mystery through the following poetic dialogue that he has devised between Jesus and His Mother:

“Weep not for me, O Mother, beholding in the sepulcher the Son whom thou hast conceived without seed in thy womb. For I shall rise and shall be glorified, and as God I shall exalt in everlasting glory those who magnify thee with faith and love.”
"O Son without beginning, in ways surpassing nature was I blessed at Thy strange birth, for I was spared all travail. But now beholding Thee, my God, a lifeless corpse, I am pierced by the sword of bitter sorrow. But arise, that I may be magnified."
"By mine own will the earth covers me, O Mother, but the gatekeepers of hell tremble as they see me, clothed in the blood-stained garment of vengeance: for on the Cross as God have I struck down mine enemies, and I shall rise again and magnify thee."

Christ might also be seen as observing a Sabbath rest in the tomb.

What is even more interesting and justifies the choices of perfumes for this special day is the way Easter is celebrated in Greece in particular. Easter and the promise of resurrection were from ancient times tied to the pagan spring fests that celebrated the god Dionysus. However during the Ottoman occupation for all those long centuries, when religion was a binding force between communities, the meaning of resurrection got another nuance: that of an upcoming revolution against the foreign oppressor. The underground revolutionaries of the 18th century that were preparing the National Revolution that would start in 1821 were using the code words said on Easter’s Eve from one Christian to the other: “Christ is Risen!” (Christos anesti) to which the reply is till now “ Truly He is Risen!” (aleethos anesti). That promise of an up rise kept them going. And when finally they did easter was celebrated with gunsshots and fireworks and crackers and lots of noise, just like the tradition remains today almost 2 centuries after that to still remind us of the joy over the double resurrection: that of Christ and of Greece.


So on Easter’s Eve, there is one of the most characteristic celebrations of the nation: the midnight service marks the beginning of celebration as hundreds of crackers and fireworks burst in the cool night air for the people watching gathered outside the church, waiting to hear the priest utter the magical phrase: “Christ has risen!” and the bells starting to toll happily and loudly alongside the crackers. At that moment everyone kisses each other and wishes them Happy Easter with a smile; they light their long white candles and lanterns with the holy light which is brought out from the church. Hundreds of people in the middle of the night, cradling those tiny flames, the flames they are supposed to bring back home, to illuminate it with holy light, the lux that is so revered and so in the core of greek life, as it also recalls the Olympic flame which was lit with a mirror in ancient Olympia in honour of the life giving god Apollo.
A mystical happy procession of people walking back, ready to sit at the table with family and friends and click their red eggs saying those old code words of the revolution and eating the traditional dish “mayiritsa”, a very yummy soup made of lamb innards/guts (liver, spleen and lung) seasoned with dill, fresh shallots and onion in a juice of lemon and eggs; the official end of Lent.
You can get a glimpse and a recipe here.

On Corfu island in particular there is this popular tradition that is a sight for all foreigners visiting:
The most famous tradition is taking place all over the Island, in the Holy Saturday at 11 a.m. when the first bell of the First Resurrection is heard. At that time local people throw pots out of their windows, smashing them onto the streets below. Those special made ceramic pots, called "botides" can be more than 1 meter tall and they are filled with water to make a louder crash. The noisy custom lasts for 3-5 minutes and is watched by thousands of people, mostly tourists, as Corfu is the most popular destination in Greece for Easter holidays.
There are different theories about the origin and the explanation of this custom. The first explanation for the custom has a religious meaning, as a representation of the Evangelic books that refers to the resurrection of Jesus Christ with the words: "Resurrect o Lord and crush them as ceramic utensils". The second explanation gives to the custom a Venetian origin, as Venetians ruled the Island in 15th and 16th century : it is a variation of an old Venetian custom of new years eve, where they used to through old stuff from the window, so that the new year will bring then new ones. And the third one gives it a pagan provenance, as Easter time is the time when nature starts its new year and re-awakens after winter.(from www.panoramas.dk)
On the island of Spetses, there is a re-enactement of the victorious burning of the turkish fleet by greek revolutionaries, a spectacle of great interest.


For such a special night I have chosen incense perfumes that bear a relation with the night, with bonfires, with fireworks, with the joy of celebration and the awe instilled by the sense of remembrance.

Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque: Exactly the pyrocaustic smell of bonfires and fireworks, burned wood and light processions of people on the night’s breeze. Created by Olivia Giacobetti with the collaboration of John Galliano himself (who would have thought it of him?) and a great success in my opinion. Although technically a room spray, accompanied in the line’s catalogue by a matching candle, I have used this as a personal fragrance on the back of my hands with no ill results. At least I am still alive to tell the tale….
Deep, dark, smoky embers still illuminated from an inner spark, a little musty and with lots of backbone, it reminds me of the celebrations of midnight. The invocation of church is there, incense taking a turn for the bittersweet, lots of woody ambience, like standing with a candle close to freshly waxed wooden pegs (don’t tentatively burn them to see how they smell though if you’re to be thought of as a good Christian!). Dried bitter orange leaves like the ones scattered on the church floor for the congregation to pick up and get back home to put tucked at the backside of Byzantine icons with austere and spiritual faces. Completely unisex and individual for brave souls who want to venture the extra mile and raise a few eyebrows in the process. A favourite!


Messe de Minuit by Etro: Although this is traditionally thought of as cold and detached, I have noticed that it blooms best in warmer weather in which it reveals a herbal and spicy character that is not present in colder climes.
It starts very damp and musty and even citrus , with a scent that reminds me of raw pleurotus mushrooms left in the fridge for a while It becomes quite spicy and deeper with myrrh (or is it amber?) and sweetens considerably. And it also becomes earthy and “dirty” The incense note is not very evident as such to me. At least it’s not like any incense I am used to which I have described in Avignon. It doesn’t have that rich and resiny, sweet but smoky quality that I usually associate incense with. It is as if the remnants of incense smoke have settled down and been dampened in a old paleochristianic temple. No holy smell, no passage of angels, no spiritual elevation. On the contrary, this is an abandoned abode, a lonely place deserted by man and God that has been festering demons and evil spirits , unhealthy and perverse, vampiric even like a character from an Anne Rice novel . I can definitely see the face of the Antichrist in the background….
Which begs the question why pick such an evil association for such a day…Well, but it is the day of entering Hades after all. And the name which means Midnight service in French is exactly when I wear it, which makes it all the more poignant and introspective full of devoutness despite its intentions. Supposedly loved by Sophia Loren and I can understand how an Italian lady would also like this for those occasions.

Parfum Sacre by Caron: The modern take on what Or et Noir was in the classic line-up of Caron, as discussed yesterday and a bit more festive than the former, hence my inclusion of it here today. The bracing top of evident pepper and lemony tones give way to spices such as mace and cardamom with their middle-eastern ambience, while discreet garlands of rose, jasmine and orange blossom make a swift appearance, then surrender to the plush embrace of dominant myrrh and frankincense with lashings of civet, rosewood, cedar and a little vanilla.
In short one of the few Carons that like me because I do not get the musty rose accord that becomes insufferable on my skin. The whole smells mystical, sophisticated and quite elegant with a touch of the festive, a slight powdery feel like that encountered in classic Guerlains or Chanel fragrances. Really vintage in feel, because who would have thought this came out in the 1990’s? Terrifically long lasting in eau de parfum as well and with a sillage that remains good-mannered but will get you elegantly noticed. Recommended.


Top pic courtesy of trekearth.com, bottom pic by greekcity.com.au

Incense week: 6.Solemn, mournful incense for Good Friday

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This day is marked by solemn observations in memory of Jesus' crucifixion. Christians believe that Jesus thus accomplished reconciliation between God and man. Accordingly the crucified image of Jesus or, even the cross itself, came to be regarded as the main symbol of faith for Christians.
Roman Catholics as well as Orthodoxs observe the day through fast and abstinence to commemorate the pains and sufferings Jesus underwent on the cross so it is a day of mourning. The communion of the Eucharist is suspended.

Good Friday first came to be observed as a separate occasion in early 4th century. Before this, an annual celebration was held as Christian Passover, or, Pascha (deriving from the Hebrew Pesach), to mark both Christ's death on Cross and the Resurrection.
Our Lord is crucified. In the iconography of the crucifixion there is a number of people that are often depicted together: three women together with the Theotokos (=mother of god) ~Saint Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children (Matthew 27:56)
Saint John the Beloved Disciple is usually placed right of the cross. While Saint Longinus the Centurion, the Roman centurion mentioned in Saint Mark's Gospel account of the Crucifixion (Mark 15:39) can also be present. There is an inscription on the top bar of the Cross that reads I.N.B.I., the initials of the Greek words meaning "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews." While at the foot of the Cross, we can see often a skull because Golgotha, the Mount of the Crucifixion, means 'the place of the skull." Tradition relates that the Cross of Christ stood directly above the grave of Adam.

In orthodox tradition evening service concerns the recounting of the 12 Gospel lessons. The first one, from the Gospel of John (13.21-18), relates the account of the Lord’s discourse with the disciples at the Last Supper. The next ten Gospel readings deal with accounts of the Lord’s sufferings as told by the apostles. The last one gives an account of the Lord’s burial and the sealing of the Tomb. The response after each gospel reading is a variation of the usual one: "Glory to Your forbearance, Lord, Glory to You."
On the morning of the day each church makes its own epitaph bed for the dead Jesus: a cradle of icons and fresh spring flowers that young women have gathered and put on it: in cities and towns these are roses, lilies and freesias. In country churches it is usually lilacs and violets. People come in the church during the morning to pay their respects and the atmosphere is heavy with the heady blooms, head spinning from the incense burning and the flowers exuding their last breaths on the death bed.
In cities the epitaph exits the church on an evening parade to be joined with other epitaph beds from other parishes on a common meeting point, where people gather holding dark yellow beeswax candles as the only source of light, awaiting. The procession comes holding the holy symbols first, the epitaph bed next full of flowers that are sprinkled on the congregation and the mayor’s band last playing solemn funeral marches as people sing the ancient lament “ Oh, my sweet spring”; supposedly the lament of the Virgin Mary for her son on the cross, one of the most beautiful of greek orthodox hymnography, recalling the death of nature and its subsequent resurgence upon spring's awakening.

"Oh my sweet spring, my most sweet child,
where did your beauty set?"
You can listen to it or clicking here. or directly here:



In Salonica the town’s band customarily plays Funeral March by Chopin before that.

It is also usual in country churches to go through an elaborate and mystical procession before reading the twelfth gospel lesson at the evening service. The experience is really hair raising and deeply moving, even if one is not religious. The procession of the holy symbols, the cross and the icons carried on long poles, followed by the epitaph bed, by young people dressed in black exits the church and the great gates are firmly closed. They remain outside until the reading of the twelfth gospel lesson, upon which they knock on the gate representing Jesus knocking on the gates of Death, three times. On each knock a blessing is heard from the priest inside who denies however entrance. Utter silence in the congregation, who is watching solemnly in the cold evening spring air. As the last uttering from the priest inside is heard, the head of the procession opens the gate entering saying in a high voice “Open for the king of life”.

It is also interesting to note one particular custom on the island of Santorini (and other islands on the Aegean): as the up most parts of the isles had fortified villages, “castra”,for fear of pirates pillaging through the land in medieval times, (just like in Pyrgos on said island), those have narrow pathways of winding roads that have only one exit and entrance. On the corners of the streets, up on the barricades, great lanterns and bonfires are lit while every other light is turned off so that the whole village seems to have sprung up from Polanski’s The Ninth Gate. The sight is bewitching and breathtaking…

For such a powerfully symbolic day I chose sad, mournful incense fragrances with a deep floral background to them to reminiscence of all those associations I have with the day.

Avignon by Comme des Garcons: What could be more appropriate, more solemn, more sad and elating at the same time than this completely realistic catholic/orthodox incense smell? Named after the French city in which there was a second Pope instituted after an inside dispute in the Catholic Church in the middle-ages, it evokes phantasms of such a dark time. Full of the aroma of pure frankincense it is redolent of childhood memories of smoke rising from the censers, priests dressed in all black, Byzantine churches hidden under the barricades of an old city-fort and the far away smell of flowers in the night air. Beautifully contemplating, deeply moving, heady in its thickness. It is rather difficult to wear as a personal scent, because of its pungency and potency, at least the ordinary way (spritz, spritz, woosh…) but it can be dabbed a little on hands to make one fit the mood of such a day or sprayed lightly in the room to bring a glimpse of High Mass with them. It represents the pic I chose like nothing else can.

Incensi by Lorenzo Villoresi: A rich and pungent incense scent that is very churchy in a delightful way, laced with sweet and dry notes throughout. Church pews and freshly waxed floors, golden chandeliers and low light reflections on the somber faces on the icons, this is an Italian incense to be sure and it shows. The opening is rather dry with a touch of bergamot and probably elemi, coming to the fore, while the unfolding upon drying down on the skin is full of drama and with a discernible touch of spice in the form of beloved cinnamon and ginger with powdery accents, Incensi floats in the night air like the spell of another world, luring us into a world of mysticism and apocryphal meanings. Although this one has no apparent floral notes, its character reminds me of church processions and the mournful music they’re accompanied with, hence I include it.
The gorgeous blue bottle it comes in is like the window pane of a cathedral, all shine and mystery. Very long lasting, so it is a good investment despite the high price.

Or et Noir by Caron: The predecessor of modern Parfum Sacrι, Or et Noir is a classic Caron that makes no compromises on the challenging accords of must and powder in its rendition of the rose. Opening on a strong note of geranium this is garlanded with intense oily rose, some lilac, spicy carnation and a whisper of incense to render the whole quite close to an epitaph procession, young girls raining tear soaked petals upon the bystanders who whisper blessings along the way.
The name might be a little far-fetched as it is neither gold (Or) nor dark (noir) really compared to other incense fragrances, however its contemplative nature and deep character are very pronounced.
Chanel #22 is also a floral with a hint of incense in the background, but where that one is a light and airy, cheerful, lovely composition, this one is sacred and deep with a much more mature character.
Available only in parfum concentration in the Caron urns (those Baccarat crystal samovars that contain the precious essences) at the boutiques, it is hard to find and maybe challenging to wear for most, however no Good Friday procession would be complete without it.



Pyrocaustic incense for bonfires for our next instalment.
Pic is from the Knights Templar castle that surrounds the medieval city in Rhodes, Greece.

Incense week: 5.Somber meditative incense for Maundy Thursday

This day, three days prior to the Resurrection, is the day that Christ washed the feet of his disciples and shared his last meal with them, known as The Last Supper, a spartan course upon which he said: "Take, eat; this is my body. Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins." Thus establishing the Eucharist and Communion for all Christians thereafter who reenact that Last Supper. In cathedral churches it is the custom for the bishop, to re-enact the footwashing in a special ceremony following the Divine Liturgy.

"Maundy" as it is generally referred to derives from the word mandate, or commandment. That’s because after Jesus washed his disciples' feet, he commanded them to do the same for one another. (John 13:34 :"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another.")

On this day in greek orthodox doctrine we paint the eggs which are traditionally red like the poppies of the field which were supposedly spilled with Christ’s blood, hence they became red (they were formerly white, or so the tale goes). The dyes used are mixed in vinegar which is also reminiscent of the vinegar proffered to Jesus on the cross by the roman soldier who made fun of him when he asked for water. Everything is symbolic, it seems. Egg is often regarded as a symbol of birth and fertility in many cultures or of the cosmos. As it contains life and food to feed it as well, it is a potent means of reminding us of the resurgence of spring and the reproduction of flora and fauna around us. It is even viewed as a symbol of the soul, which was aptly exploited in Alan Parker's 1987 film Angel Heart in which Rober de Niro as the devil himself, devours a whole egg with alarming cool recounting this exact belief.
In medieval Europe, eggs were forbidden during Lent, so it was a prized treat for children on Easter and indeed that is why eggs are offered to children today, even if they take the form of chocolate ones. Eggs were also painted bright colors (red is the traditional one like mentioned) to resemble springtime and the new life it offers. For that last reason lovers often exchanged eggs, similar to Valentine's Day cards today. In ancient Europe, eggs of different colours were taken from nests of various birds as they were prized in the making of talismans. The eggs were often ritually eaten too. The search through the forests for eggs gradually evolved into the habit of the Easter egg hunt, and painted eggs eventually replaced wild birds' eggs. You can read more on the decorated easter egg and its history here and here.
When we sit on the table after Saturday’s midnight service we clink each other’s red egg and he who manages to get his/hers unscathed is proclaimed winner. It’s as if they have preserved the valuable life and they’re now free to consume it and gain strength by it. An endearing tradition….

Maundy Thursday is also the day before crucifixion, when Jesus went to pray alone to gain strength before his ordeal and so it is somber, meditative and melancholy to me. For that reason I picked up incense scents that seem centered, a bit sparse in their character and that could instill an introspective mood of spirituality.

Encens et Lavande by Serge Lutens: The introspection of incense coupled with the clean, sparse atmosphere of lavender. The latter is making a quick and medicinal appearance upon hitting the skin, a clean, nose-decongesting aroma that is usually not what I enjoy and quite different than the lavender of Gris Clair which begins on an antithetical course. There is also the hint of sage, a herbal smell that could be very well remind one of that land where Jesus prayed in the cool air of the night. Incense is light in this fragrance and it takes a somber, smoky, whispery, slightly orientalistic take thanks to light amber that is left on the skin for some time while lavender has evaporated. As if you’re inhaling the aroma of a cloth that has been smoked in the white smoke of an outside burning chalice. I find this an excellent perfume for meditation and it calls upon all calm and collected thoughts.

Bois d’encens by Armani Prive: If we are to forgive mr.Armani for his trespasses discussed yesterday, like we expect to be forgiven for ours, it is thanks to this little gem in his Private collection, bottled into an architectural modern Kotibe wood column of a bottle, topped with a dark red “pebble” . A clean smoky incense that wafts from the forests on the cool wintery air is the impression this makes. In the spirit of Avignon, yet lighter, not as thick and with less staying power which is an utter shame for the hundreds of bucks this goes for, it is easily wearable by anyone who is willing to take a plunge n the mysterious world of incense and does not make difference between the sexes either. The background of lots of cedars smelled from a distance is enough to make one appreciate the austere nature of such a perfume.

Encens Mystic by Crazy Libellule and the Poppies: This relatively new and refreshingly inexpensive French brand is rippling the waters with their fun, cute, completely adorable little solid perfume sticks like lippies that come in many different permutations, collected into three lines: Shanghaijava (with oriental and woody scents), Les Divines Alcoves (with scents of musk and flowers) and Poule de Luxe (comprising scents of unapologetically gourmand tendencies). From their Shanghaijava line Encens Mystic is truly exceptional and really smells more expensive than the mere amount asked (11 pounds on hqhair.com). Being a solid it has the tendency to wear closely to the body and with good tenacity, encompassing notes of Myrrh, Frankincense, Benzoin, Patchouli , clove, a hint of vanilla and Cedar. The result is a rich, pungent incense fragrance that smells like the Incense Series by Comme des Garcons or close to Black Cashmere by Donna Karan. The wax smell is simply non apparent which is a plus for a solid and the pungency of the notes makes a brilliant juxtaposition with floaty clothes and smooth hair. I find it mystical, like its name suggests and quite poised and a delightful surprise to come out of a new house with no credentials of grandeur. For so few bucks a pop it shouldn’t really pose a doubt as to whether it’s worth purchasing. Just do it.

Next intalment talks about deep and solemn incense.

Painting of The Last supper by Carl Bloch courtesy of Carlbloch.com

Incense week: 4.Traitorous incense for Holy Wednesday

Most people know Judas Iscariot as the classic traitor, the archetype of such a justifiably hateful character: crossing his master for 30 pieces of silver, betraying him with a kiss. It is such a fixed notion in pop culture that we see references of that very act of betrayal in balkan folk verse to U2 songs.
It is also no accident that in many Christian communities there is the tradition of burning a representation of Judas before the Resurrection. Great attention is put into the comparison of the sinful woman who is saved to the chosen apostle who is lost in the scriptures.
In short Judas is doomed. Os is he?

Villains are always exciting characters to follow in literature and if one -like Nietzsche, who by the way was the son of a man of religion (it figures!) - takes an interest in the scriptures solely in their literature capacity and not their alleged apocalyptical meaning, one sees that a proper drama requires at least one capable villain. All the more power to him if there is the possibility of him falling from grace in the end bringing the much needed aristotelic katharsis.
The mention that Judas was of a prominent Judaic family and that he was educated, in sharp contrast to most of the other apostles, is something that does not –in my mind- preclude innocent and coincidental associations. It seems to me that there is an underlying effort to stress that the new emerging religion, Christianity, is thus targeted to the socially and economically unprivileged, whose vast numbers guarantee a great success and a rapid spread of the new word of course. But let’s not be so cynical…

However the recent revelation of the lost Gospel of Judas reveals a different facet of the man that is perhaps even more intriguing. That of the misunderstood here, the one who must bear a cross of his own (as does any man, really), the one who is chosen above others to bring about the difficult task that is needed to bring about salvation through resurrection. In his own words Judas Iscariot talks about how he has been guided by Jesus himself who revealed to him the demanded task: to betray him, Jesus so as to affirm his rule of death and convince the world of his divinity. Although this last part does not shed a favourable light on Jesus (who is basically dooming a simple man to promote his own end) and therefore it has been vehemently denied by the official dogma of the church leaving the study of the gospel to the hands of historians and not theologists, it is so very meaningful and implicating that it requires its own path of thought.
Of course Judas’ gospel is not the only lost one….In fact there are many, one of which is Mary Magdalene’s one. But the subject of any strong faith getting stronger by crashing any notion of weakness is a vast one and the place is not appropriate here to embark on such deep waters.

I have picked nevertheless a handful of tricky, misunderstood incense fragrances that reflect the misapprehension we sometimes reserve for that which we deem fixed idea, just like we have possibly done to Judas.

Snake Oil by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab: It’s hard to pass up such a great opportunity to talk about this one with the eminently appropriate name. I assure you nevertheless that it is as much chosen for its ability to smell different on each separate application rendering the poor wearer crazy with anticipation on how it will evolve upon the skin. The thick smokiness of the incense cut with a smidgeon of citrus mingles with earthy, dirty notes of patchouli and musk into a symphony of darkness that seems quite potent at first.
As it is quite medicinal when fresh, it tends to mellow and gain complexity and sweetness as the ageing process is on its way; and indeed like a good wine it gains the veil of vanillic warmth that makes it seem much more innocent and lovable than it is, much like those misunderstood characters that we hate we love. Quite strong it is also considered by some to be sexy. Don’t count me in the latter group but thought you might want to know.

Mania by Armani: Why is this one surfacing into a post about incense and traitorous scents, you might ask. You do have a point. It is mr.Armani, bless him chuckling in his tailored sleeves, who is the traitor. Because he had the nerve to discontinue the old slightly masculine, incensy musky and woody version of the scent with that name bottled in a grey bottle with an anthracite cap and replace it with a common pink fruity floral that’s a dime a dozen with a beige cap. For shame, mr. Armanis. For shame!

Incense by Norma Kamali: Take your pills (every one you’ve ever been presecribed, you’ll need those suckers) and slowly, tentatively inhale this mysterious, intense potion. You will find yourself in a swirl wind of such mental turmoil that the afore-mentioned Nietzsche’s troubles will seem like child’s play to you. Prepare yourself for a dose of South American resin, copal, that is completely traitorous to the canonical frankincense and myrrh of more conventional incense-centered perfumes. The northern Lacandón Maya of lowland Chiapas in southern Mexico offered copal incense (pom) to their gods, a material made from the resin of the pitch pine (Pinus pseudostrobus). Norma Kamali is transporting us into a pagan ritualistic celebration like the religious iconoclast that is the theme of the day. Tread with caution; it can’t be stressed enough!


Next instalment -with yet a different spin- to come up shortly!

Pic comes from the film Zwartboek courtesy of Athinorama.

Incense week: 3.Lush sinful incense for Holy Tuesday

As today the religious theme is the vigilance of the wise virgins who were ready for Jesus and the repentance of sinners, as reflected in the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her hair and anointed them with myrrh, I decided to attribute incense scents that have a rich, feminine, lush nature to them and which would not be far off the notion of a sinner, repentant or not.
In greek orthodox church today on holy Tuesday "The Hymn of Kassiane", a woman who became a nun in her later life and a famous hymnograph, is being chanted: “Lord, the woman caught up in a multitude of sins, sensing Your divinity, assumes the perfumer’s role; lamenting, she provides myrrh in anticipation of Your burial. “Alas!” she cries, “for me night is a frenzy of excess, dark and moonless, a love affair with sin. You draw from the clouds the waters of the sea; will You accept the fountainhead of my tears?”
(translation from Hellenic Koine {=greek}to English by saintbarbara.org).

The tale of Kassiane herself, an educated aristocrat of her time that was to be the Byzantine emperor’s bride, only to be refuted for her intelligence and quick wit, is touching.
The tale recounted here goes thus:

“Church history becomes aware of her when she lived in Constantinople and was a regular attendant at the Royal Court of Emperor Theophilos whose mother, Euphrosene, saw in the brilliant and beautiful Kassiane a very likely candidate to become the bride of her son. The field of eligible young women narrowed down to Kassiane and another lovely girl named Theodora who hailed from Paphlogenia, apparently from a ranking family of the Empire. The final choice was to be made by the young Emperor who elected to have both the girls brought before him so that a final comparison and decision could be made. Since both were extremely attractive, the choice was not an easy one; but the one thing that Theophilos wanted to make certain that his bride not exceed him intellect.
In a custom that dated back to the Persians, years before the formation of the Byzantine Empire, a golden apple was to be given to the one who was to be the Empress. Looking at Kassiane, the Emperor stated, “From woman came the worst in the world” (meaning Eve and her original sin). Kassiane calmly replied, “From woman also came the best” (referring to the Virgin Mary who bore the Son of God”). The issue was settled then and there, and Theodora got the golden apple.”

The first thing that came into my mind therefore recalling both intelligence, rich depth and mysterious incense was Angelique Encens by Creed. As I have already embarked on a full review of it here, I won’t elaborate too much. Suffice to repeat that it is a dark, resinous oriental potion redolent of angelical demons who smell sweet and enticing, marrying angelica with the plush of vanilla and incense, hinting at the carnality of tuberose, but never succumbing to its full spectre. It has been suggested to me to try to layer it with Tabarome, also by Creed and I find that it takes an even more sinister touch that is positively addictive. The elixir of a sinner who wants to repent, deep down.

Amir by Laura Tonnato: Another lush incense perfume that has a rich heart and base of resins that fan out in velvety amber like a modern interpretation of Obsession. The presence of smoke and spice is evident although the opening stage might seem quite medicinal, but as it dissipates one is met with a mature beauty of creamy darkness. Feminine and ready for the plucking quite unapologetically. Frankincense adds mystery and you can imagine this worn before a blazing fire in a country house somewhere exotic during the winter. As the embers die away it retains its air of seduction and panache making your presence unforgettable.

Tolu by Ormonde Jayne: In a line that was sadly full of misses for me for some reason despite the undeniable innovation and good ingredients Tolu was the exception. An amber rich incense fragrance, made by Linda Pilkington, with presence and stamina that doesn’t succumb to the too sweet like some ambers do, nor to the medicinal which is the antithetical end of the spectrum in this category (which was Amber Sultan to me unfortunately). Despite the official clary sage and juniper top notes that might seem to shift it to that direction in fact I get more of a peppery and resiny warmth than anything else in the opening (which might account for the unusual reception it gets from people unaccustomed to balsams smelled per se). It keeps a delicate balance between the two ends displaying the wonders of Tolu Balsam and tonka beans over which a subtle floral heart that includes orchid, moroccan rose, muguet (lily of the valley) and orange blossom, left to emit their attractant properties. The effect is surely oriental, however and the mood is exuberant and confident without too much of a development just like the head-strong heroines that might wear this.
I would advise to keep this for cool weather.


Next post will tackle tricky, traitorous, deviant incenses.


Art photography by Chris Borgman, courtesy of his site.

Incense week: 2.Clean incense for Holy Monday

Although not a major celebration, today marks the cleansing of the temple in the Holy City of Jerusalem according to Christian doctrine. This was when Jesus overturned the tables of the moneychangers, saying to them: "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer'; But you make it a den of robbers". [Matthew: 21:13]
Interestingly in orthodox church the theme of Monday is that of the barren fig tree (Matthew 21: 18-20) which yields no fruit and is condemned. It is important to note here that the theme of each day is actually celebrated the evening before in the church service that precedes the day in question, therefore it is the evening service on Palm Sunday that commemorates this while on Monday evening there is celebration of the upcoming Holy Tuesday (hence the Holy Saturday Resurrection service at midnight, which would seem anachronous). However for practical purposes I am keeping the classification according to each day’s original theme.
To revert to the subject at hand, the fig tree is a classic Mediterranean part of flora that is considered a source of shade and food. Highly prized for both, it is a misfortune and a bad omen even from pagan times for the fig trees to be barren. Although in Christian texts the association of the barren fig tree with the land of Israel is something that leaves a bad taste in my mouth because of its intolerant stance toward the older Jewish population, we could take this in its purely literal sense devoid of any parabolic tendencies.
In addition, on Holy Monday the Church commemorates Joseph the Patriarch, the beloved son of Jacob. A major figure in the Old Testament, Joseph’s story is told in the final section of the Book of Genesis. (chapters 37-50).

Therefore the chosen fragrant theme for Monday should be one of cleanness and pureness of subtle wood and shade and just the hint of a promise of fruit to come.

Passage d’enfer by Lartisan parfumeur: Translated as Passage through Hell (you may also come across Road to hell or Gates of hell), but actually just named after the address of L’artisan flagship store in Paris (oh, such a naughty double-entendre), this is an excellent introductory incense for beginners, yet also a joy for more experienced players in the field as well when they want a break from all those serious and solemn types they are attracted to.
Serene and calm it is a fragrance that is very suited to casual wear, because it is light and uncomplicated. Yet that is not meant to imply that it does not hold surprises up its sleeve in typical Olivia Giacobetti’s translucent style.
The initial phase of slightly tart opening is very clean, while the illusion of soapy latheriness continues for some time. The beauty of lily blossom makes an appearance with the promise of lushness that is not fully materialized; however its prominent floral inclusion is a touch of the sublime. Lily is a carnal flower by nature, white waxy petals with a heady smell that suggests pursuits of another nature than the one associated with spirituality and meditation. And it is precisely because of that that Passage d’enfer strikes a cord of genius, as it marries the two antithetical elements of lily and smoky frankincense in heavenly harmony despite its sinful name. In fact it is the beautiful, melancholic visage of an Edgar Allen Poe’s heroine, destined to die like a half-opened bud on a warm summer’s day. It is therefore delicately feminine and very soft.
The impression of a cool soapy note is not alkaline, nor fatty; it is just a hint like the remnants of lightly scented soap on skin and not the actual bar itself, like in some other soapy perfumes. It could also be likened to a just pressed shirt without the laundry chemical aroma clinging to it, though. This renders it eminently wearable in summer and hot weather. Aloewood makes a brief appearance of guest star in the base although you’d be hard pressed to pinpoint it if you didn’t know about it beforehand. The woody touch on a bed of discreet soft musk is really very subtle and the lasting power is a bit less than average: I would love for them to come up with an eau de parfum for this one.
The reason why many people find fault is that lured by the wrongly assumed meaning of the name they expect the vagaries of the sinful which for some not so obscure reason lure and attract people into the notion that by donning such a scent they might graft that excitement of the forbidden into pedestrian lifestyles. If only…
Passage d’enfer only promises to let you glimpse a slice of heaven, really.

Shaal Nur by Etro: If you want fruity notes with your incense fix look no further. Created by Jacques Flori in 1997 for the quirky and luxurious Italian clothes brand Etro it stands alone in the galaxy of incense scents as truly unique. The inclusion of lemon as unlikely a note as it seems in combination with incense is what accounts for this. The first whiff is vaguely reminiscent of Les Nuits d’Hadrien by Goutal in that you are clearly in the presence of hesperidia, unisex in predicament, segueing on to a slightly orientalised composition that is based on a dry rendition of incense. Perhaps the innovation behind this tendency can be traced as back as the legendary Shalimar by Guerlain, which explored the lemon top and the slight incense of the bottom, yet in that gem the inclusion of deep, plush vanilla shifts the focus into powdery rich fluffiness and seduction that it is profoundly lacking here.
Herbal additions such as rosemary and tarragon shift it into unisex territory as well.
The lemony overtone here might be linked to some people’s minds with sharp smelling housecleaning liquids (and I can certainly see some connection), men’s shaving cream or even cheap aftershave. It is not to imply that it is a cheap fragrance, nevertheless it does tend to take a turn for the sour in a manner that is not particularly akin to my skin’s preferences, which could be interpreted any which way you like of course. The sour note lingers through the drying down stages only to be greeted by a smidgeon of vanillic warmth that is not enough to soften it and round it as one would expect. Rose is said to be included, but there is no potent smell of it to my nose, although the impression of sourness might also be attributed to an adverse chemical reaction between rosy notes and my skin: let’s just say we’re not on good terms most of the time. The addition of a rich wood note or a little patchouli might balance the top and heart,although it might divert from the clean route this one is destined for, but to my nose its major fault is simply its lacking in depth. The lasting power is rather nice, about 5-6 hours.
However I could see it being used by people who want a tart unisex smell for freshening up, but do not want to resort to the usual eau de Cologne types or the abundance of fruit salads on the market these days. It does smell individual after all. It is a sore pity the bottle is so nice and the weird colour of the jus so fetching to me, because it does attract the eye to be sure.

Kyoto by Comme des Garcons Incense series: In the classification of clean or woody incenses as the one on which we are focusing today, Kyoto would not be missing for long. Even though it is inspired by far eastern temples, thus bearing no relation to Christian incense collective memory, it is assuredly one of the most tranquil, wearable and popular incense fragrances around and with its strong yet clean character it befits the symbolism of the day well.
The smoky initial phase quickly fades to reveal an intoxicating richness of cedar elaborated to the max. The Virginian variety of cedar used here is a sweeter, less intense version compared to the incensy Atlas variety from Morocco. It is the aroma of freshly sharpened pencils that is so beloved by those who have good school reminiscences. The overall woody character of Kyoto is the protagonist anchored by the smokiness of incense.
This is exactly why this takes such a wearable turn on skin, because it provides just the right balance to make this mysterious enough without ever seeming gloomy or ghoulish. There is a strong calming and grounding effect when I smell this and the inclusion of a subtle grassy vetiver note, maybe a hint of pine and some smooth ambery glow is so fetching as to make me long to be in an eastern temple practicing my Oms. Tall coniferous trees swinging their branches in the breeze, white aromatic smoke emanating from censers. Because of that imagery I envision it as cool weather scent mainly.
Geraniol is maybe a note that makes it smell rather powdery and soft.
Supposedly there is also a coffee note, as well as teakwood in there, but I can swear that these are not what surfaces on skin. I think it has no specific feminine or masculine attributes, however this is one exception in which I would hesitate to call it unisex, simply because the connotation of a eunuch never enters the mind as with most scents of that ambience. It is proudly sexy in a very insouciant, understated way and it is profoundly human and serene.


Next installement is about lush, warm and alluring incense fragrances fit for sinners.