Jasmine Series: part 2 ~the role of jasmine in perfumery

As we examined previously, jasmine is an integral part of most fine perfumes’ bouquet and the varieties used render their own specific variables to the end result. 
But why is jasmine so prized over other natural or synthetic essences? And why is it a staple of perfumery as contrasted with what the great perfumer Jean Carles termed “accessory notes”? Finally: can it be replicated?

To quote master Edmond Roudnitska in his essay The Art of Perfumery: “It is the natural product par excellence”.
There isn’t a composition that does not benefit from its inclusion as it marries well with all the other essences: it blends with everything and lends a heart-achingly beautiful tinge to everything it touches. 


Jasmine as a note and component in fragrance composition
Jasmine is a middle note in perfume composition, meaning it evolves in the heart stages of development on the skin which makes it tenacious enough to anchor top notes and swift them to its own trail, yet fresh enough to not outstay its welcome leaving behind its fragrant remnants subtly. Middle notes impart warmth and fullness to blends and they embody passion. It is no coincidence that they are called “heart notes”. They bridge the distance between deep, somber base notes and sharper, fleeting top notes.
To make this more scientifically correct we revert to Septimus Piesse’s system of olfactory octaves, on which W.A. Poucher elaborated in 1923, giving each note a specific “pitch” on the olfactory scale from 1 to 100. In this system 1-15 are top notes, while 16-69 are middle notes and 70 to 100 are bottom notes. Of course several ingredients share perhaps the same number in the scale. It so happens that jasmine absolute is marked as 43 in this system, along with tuberose and rose.
In evaluating the various unusual combinations between notes, jasmine has a particularly successful effect to the following notes: roman chamomile, coriander, geranium (which has a rosy dry out to it), spearmint, and of course rose and bergamot with latter which it forms the most classic accord of most grand feminine perfumes of history.

Jasmine absolute is rendered through this process nowadays:

“Flowers are placed on racks in a hermetically sealed container. A liquid solvent, usually hexane, is circulated over the flowers to dissolve the essential oils. This produces a solid waxy paste called a “concrete”. The concrete is then repeatedly treated with pure alcohol (ethanol) which dissolves the wax and yields the highly aromatic liquid known as an absolute. This method is also used for extracting resins and balsams and for rendering the animal essences, such as civet, musk ambergris and castoreum”

(source: Mandy Aftel, Essence and Alchemy)

Absolutes are more lasting and concentrated than simple essential oils and have a highly intense and fine odour profile. Therefore they are the most expensive perfumery ingredients.
In jasmine the concrete is also very useful, a solid reddish-orange wax, mellow in tone that can be used for adding smoothness and florancy to many blends.

As an aside, for those bent on acquiring some of the best jasmine absolutes and concretes, the following address is recommended:

Coimbatore Flavors and Fragrances
5/82 Palanigoundenpudur
K.Vadamadurai Post
Coimatore 641017
India

You can also contact aqua-oleum which is an aromatherapy site for essential oils, available in small quantities, run by a renowned aromatherapist.

Headiness, Indoles, Living Matter and other stuff on Jasmine
Jasmine’s inclusion in the white floral category of fragrances especially is almost self-evident. Tuberose, ylang-ylang, gardenia (synthetic, because the flower does not yield a satisfactory oil for perfumery) and orange blossom marry with jasmine to produce intensely narcotic and exotic perfumes that capitalize on the sultry image of those blossoms and make our head spin.
The magic of this headiness is indol/indole, referenced also in our Orange Blossom Series, a matter that is also found in human feces and which according to Paul Jellineck “reminiscent of decay and feces, lends orange blossom, jasmine, tuberose, lilac and other blossoms that putrid-sweet, sultry intoxicating nuance that has led to the sum of these flowers and of their extracts as delicate aphrodisiacs, today as in the past”. This is the reason why many people find jasmine animalic and difficult to stomach in large quantities in their perfumes, as they perceive a dirty note to it that repels them. In isolation, indole smells moth-ball-ish, camphor-like rather than poopy. 
A notable example is the majestic A la nuit by Serge Lutens for Palais Royal de Shiseido, in which all the aspects of natural jasmine from bud to rot are displayed like the faceted profile of a precious gem. A jasmine for die-hard jasminophiles. The use of many different kinds of jasmine from Egypt, Morocco, and India are all contributing to giving it richness beyond that of a simple soliflore, intensified by clove, honey and benzoin.
It is interesting to note that indole cannot be synthesized successfully, as the synergistic effect of different constituents is lost. In similar attempts at the lab an unpleasant dominant fecal tone surfaces which makes it very hard to manipulate in an artistic composition. In nature there are minute amounts of materials that despite their exceedingly low percentage in the total of an essence they play a decisive role in the character of the entire complex.

In this regard we may also turn our attention to the most intriguing fact that natural essences, among them jasmine absolute, do photograph in Kirlian Photography, denoting possession of life essence or life force. Semyon Kirlian was a Russian electrical technician who in 1939 discovered a technique of taking pictures by means of electricity. His technique has been widely known as the photography of auras: the life energy that surrounds all living matter. The method uses a photographic paper or film atop a metal plate whereupon the object is placed. A high voltage current is then applied which records the energy field appearing as a bright halo around the object. Living flowers have brighter auras while as they deteriorate and rot the halo diminishes. It is intriguing to note that essential oils do photograph using the Kirlian method with different results according to the description of the olfactory profile of each: sharp, bright, heavy or soft and so on. So the claim of Roudnitska that jasmine is a natural per excellence which we quoted at the beginning of this article makes great sense. And it also bodes with Robert Tisserand’s dictum that natural essences “have a life force, an additional impulse which can only be found in living things”.
Jean Garnero, a Grasse chemist has this to add:

“Despite all the crises, all the economic challenges, all the competition from synthetic products, the perfume of jasmine flower remains one of the essential elements and sometimes the main pillar in the structure of the greatest perfumes”.

French & specifically Grasse Jasmine: Which Perfumes Contain it?
You will often hear brandished the term "French jasmine" as a denoting of superior quality. Grasse after all has been made famous thanks to its natural products, jasmine out of which is most notorious. The cultivation of the jasminum grandiflorum variety came from the Arab trade route. The Grasse jasmine is sweeter than most and more refined than the bulk of commercial jasmine essence that comes from Egypt (more than 3/4 of the total production comes from this area), India, Morocco and India (where jasminum sambac is the traditional product).
Due to extreme costs to obtain this precious extract only a few companies have been able to use Grasse jasmine in their perfumes. This traditionally included Chanel (who use Grasse jasmine in their extrait de parfum of No.5 and the rest of their jasmine-listing extrait de parfum fragrances) and who have bought their own fields of jasmine and tuberose in the region of Grasse, Jean Patou (who includes Grasse jasmine in Joy and 1000) and till a decade ago approximately this was also the case for Guerlain as well (who used Grasse jasmine in their classics, such as Mitsouko, L'Heure Bleue, Apres l'Ondee, and Shalimar extraits de parfum), but not anymore.

Replicating jasmine in perfumes

Ylang ylang, whose name means Flower of flowers, is generally termed “poor man’s jasmine” because its odour profile is not distanced from that of jasmine and indeed it has been used in many perfumes to back up the tonalities of jasmine, as it is so much less expensive yet still very beautiful: suave, sweet, persistent, creamy.
It makes a very pronounced appearance in such perfumes as the rich ambery orientals Obsession and Moschino original, Samsara ~ backing up the big beat of the jasmine-sandalwood accord, Tabu, Loulou, Organza, surprisingly Aromatics Elixir beneath all the mossy earthy elements, Kenzo Jungle, Escada by Margaretha Ley, Amarige, Giorgio, Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant, 24 Faubourg (in conjunction with jasmine sambac), and of course Chanel no.5 and Bois des Iles.
Ylang Ylang also has several grades of quality, first, second and third renderings of the oil, much like the production of jasmine tea that we described on our previous article.

Hedione or dihydrojasmonate, as previously mentioned, is an aromachemical that is often used in composition in substitution for jasmine absolute, but also for the sake of its own fresh and green tonality.
It lacks the clotted cream density of natural jasmine, recalling much more the living vine and for that reason it is considered a beautiful material that offers quite a bit in the production of fine perfumes. Perfumer Lyn Harris, of the brand Miller Harris and also the independent nose behind many well-known creations not credited to her name calls it “transparent jasmine” and attributes to it the capacity to give fizz to citrus notes much “like champagne”. (see? it’s not only aldehydes which do that!)

First used in the classic men’s cologne Eau Sauvage, composed by Edmond Roudnitska in 1966, it had been isolated from jasmine absolute and went on to revolutionize men’s scents with the inclusion of a green floral note. It was so successful that many women went on to adopt it as their own personal fragrance leading the house of Dior to the subsequent introduction of Diorella in 1972, composed by the same legendary nose, blending the green floral with hints of peach, honeysuckle, rose and cyclamen in addition to the herbal citrusy notes of the masculine counterpart, all anchored by a base of cool vetiver, patchouli and oakmoss, lending a mysterious, aloof and twilit air to women who went for it.
Ten years after its introduction to perfumery, in 1976, it was the turn of Jean Claude Ellena to coax hedione in a composition that exploited its fresh and lively character to great aplomb in the production of First by jewelry house Van Cleef & Arpels (the name derived from the fact that it was their first fragrant offering, but also the first scent to come out of a jeweler too ~subsequently many followed in its tracks with notable success). In it, Ellena used 10 times the concentration of hedione used in Eau Sauvage, married to natural jasmine as well as rose de mai (rosa centifollia, which is also a crystalline variety), narcissus, orris, ylang ylang and a hint of carnation with the flying trapeze of aldehydes on top and the plush of vetiver, amber and vanilla at the bottom which accounted for a luminous and luxurious floral.

Hedione also makes a memorable appearance in many other perfumes, such as the classic Chamade by Guerlain (introduced in 1969), Chanel no.19 (1970) and Must by Cartier (1981) and in many of the modern airy fragrances such as CKone, Blush by Marc Jacobs, the shared scent Paco by Paco Rabanne or the bombastic Angel by Thierry Mugler, in which it is used as a fresh top note along with helional.


Next part will focus on other aspects of the jasmine quest.

Artwork by Godward "The new perfume" courtesy of allposters.com
Perfume ad for Eau Sauvage from 2001 courtesy of psine.net

Jasmine Series: part 1~ genus, varieties and production

In the universe of flowers used for their fine precious scent used in luxe perfume, no other blossom stands alone as ubiquitous as jasmine, with the possible exception of rose. Indeed those two grace most perfumes’ heart bouquet as the classic marriage of true minds. And although they are distinctly different in character they sing to each other in mellifluous tunes that enrapture and entice.
Yet which jasmine blooms are harvested, how and what do they offer to the final result?
The Perfume Shrine Jasmine Series attempts to shed some light on these aspects.

First of all, jasmine (latin: Jasminum), native to warm and tropical parts of the world, is a genus of shrubs and vines that belong in the family Oleceae (olive) and it comprises about 200 species. As a plant that has so many varieties some misunderstanding around its names and properties is evident. Although all plants named jasmine, (wrongly or truthfully) bear white little blossom of a fragrant nature, numerous among them are not jasmine but closely resemble the classic flower appearance and fragrance.
According to mgonline.com/jasmine, these are the varieties that are commonly called "jasmine":

Jasmine Asiatic - Trachelospermum asiaticum
Jasmine Carolina - Gelsemium sempervirens
Jasmine Chalcas - Murraya paniculata
Jasmine Confederate - Trachelospermum jasminoides
Jasmine Crape - Trachelospermum divaricata
Jasmine Downy - Jasminum multiflorum
Jasmine Gracillimum
Jasmine Lakeview - Murraya paniculata 'Lakeview'
Jasmine Minima - Trachelospermum asiaticum 'Minima'
Jasmine Night Blooming - Murraya paniculata
Jasmine Pink - Jasminum polyanthum
Jasmine Pinwheel - Tabernaemontana
Jasmine Primrose - Jasminium mesnyl
Jasmine Rex - Royal Jasmine
Jasmine Shining - Jasminium nitidum
Jasmine Star - Trachelospermum jasminoides 'Star'
Jasmine Wax - Jasminum volubile
Jasmine Winter - Jasminum nudiforum
Jasminum floridum
Jasminum illicifolium
Jasminum pubescens
Jasminum sambac - Arabian Jasmine
Jasminum sambac - 'Grand Duke of Tuscany'
Jasminum sambac - 'Maid of Orleans'
Jasmin sambac 'Triple' (bloom)
Jasminum simplicifolium - Jasminum volubile
Jasminum x stephanense
Jasminum undalatum

Edited to add: It has been brought to my attention by the perfumer Anya McCoy that the above link might be a bit off. Cestrum nocturnum is the latin name of night blooming jasmine and Murraya panicaulata is also called Orange jasmine (because the blossoms resemble those of bitter orange tree ones). In addition Belle of India is another important variety which they omitted.
Many thanks A!

In perfumery, however, there are two main varieties used: Jasminum grandiflorum and Jasminum sambac.

The name jasmine itself derives from the arab yâsamîn, which is in turn taken from the Persian. It is also the origin of the feminine Arabian name Yasmine/Yasmina. It seems that this is a very ancient shrub that was highly prized since antiquity. In Indian texts occupying themselves with Kâma (=love; from the eponymous deity that symbolizes carnal love) jasmine is considered the flower of love and it is also said that Cleopatra came to meet Marc Antony on a barge whose sails were anointed with jasmine. Even today in French culture the 66 years of marriage are symbolized by jasmine flowers. So romantic….The French have even baptized an underground station (metro) with this name, those rascals!

The main locations where jasmine is grown today are India -especially around Ghazimpur-, southern Europe and China. The origin of all jasmine is said to be Kashmir, a disputed area between Iran and India.

Jasminum sambac (or Arabian Jasmine) flowers belong to a night-blooming breed and are also used -in the Maid of Orleans variety only (edit: this tidbit was mentioned to me by Anya McCoy)- to make chinese tea, which typically has a base of green tea, although an Oolong base is also known to be used. The delicate Jasmine flowers, grown widely in southern China, open only at night and they have to be plucked in the morning when the tiny petals are tightly closed. They are then stored in a cool place until the following night. As the temperature cools, the petals begin to open. They are left in trays where they emit their scent. Flowers and tea are "mated" in machines that control temperature and humidity. It takes four hours or so for the tea to absorb the fragrance and flavour of the Jasmine blossoms. And for the highest grades of tea, this process may be repeated up to seven times! Real jasmine tea should have all of the fragrance of the flower, but no trace of the flower itself.
Sambac is also the National Flower of Indonesia, where it grows in abundance going by the name of "Melati", and also of the Philippines, known as "Sambaquita". In Indonesia (especially Java), it is the traditional flower in wedding ceremonies for natives.
To add to the confusion in Hawaiian it is also common to refer to this variety as "Pikake", especially so for the more bulby blossoms that are used in leis.
Jasminum officinale (white jasmine or ye-hsi-ming in China) is the national flower of Pakistan, locally called "Chameli" or "Yasmine". In Sanskrit it is called Mallika. It is cultivated at Pangala, in Karnataka, India, and exported to Middle East countries.

Jasminum Grandiflorum, also known as “Royal” or “Spanish jasmine” , although it grows all over warmer regions of Europe as a perennial fragrant vine of intoxicating blooms, has its origin most probably in India from where it came into Europe. The Indian name for it is Jati from Sanskrit; which is a bit confusing as it also refers to the Sambac variety; so for our purposes we are going to use the latin terms for ease of reference. It is worthy of note that no less than 42 varieties of jasmine are cultivated in India!
It is admittedly the most widely used in perfumery.
Grandiflorum became the predominant culture of jasmine in Grasse, French capital of perfumery, even as far back as the 18th century. The crops is gathered in the month of August, before the break of dawn almost, so as to retain the most of the dewy petals and their fragrant emissions, while the whole process has to be performed delicately and quickly, before the little blossoms wield to the heat. It is so precious and expensive because in order to produce 1 kilo of essence 7 million flowers are estimated to be needed.

It is said that 10 600 flowers go into the production of 1oz of Patou’s Joy perfume, by perfumer Henri Almeras, so its tagline of “costliest perfume in the world”, introduced in the 30’s is not as much a myth as might have been surmised. Unfortunately today the Grasse jasmine is rarely used, although Patou still maintains that they employ it in the classic formulation for Joy and 1000. For Chanel perfumes, athough the company still maintains their own fields of jasmine (as well as tuberose) in Grasse, the precious essence only lurks in the parfum /extrait concentration, leaving the eau de toilette and eau de parfum ones a bit lacking. Guerlain used Grasse jasmine in their classics L’Heure Bleue, Mitsouko, Après l'Ondée, and Shalimar parfum, but it doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. Autres temps, autres moeurs!
Now about 4/5 of the fragrance production utilizes jasmine crops from India, Morocco, Egypt and Italy.

Comparing the two varieties, we see that the flowers of Jasminum Grandiflorum have larger and wider petals with a slight tint of red “veins” on the outside compared to those of Sambac, which are more bulb-like with more pointy ends.
Photo of Jasminum Grandiflorum can be seen clicking here.
Photos of Jasminum Sambac can be seen clicking here.

The fragrance is also a little different: Sambac is a little sharper, while Grandiflorum has a more full-bodied tonality, opulent and richer, yet with a fruity freshness accounting for differences in the end result in fragrances. Sambac on the other hand is higher in indoles, which is essential for it to be pollinated in the night and thus the fragrances that contain it may appear more animalic or heady.

Jasmine, the king of flowers, is considered by aroma therapists to be a herbal remedy, used as a sedative, antidepressant or an emollient. It is also considered a powerful aphrodisiac. The flowers and the essential oil are used in herbal preparations, but they are not to be ingested.
The main consitutent of jasmine are benzyl acetate and linalool, which are considered possibly allergenic in internal consumption, that’s why.
To obtain jasmine essence from the little blossoms, the enfleurage method is necessary. Distillation is not delicate enough for the sensitive little flowers.

According to essential oils.co.za:

"It requires flowers to be hand picked and layered over a glass frame coated with a mixture of animal fats. Glass plates in a frame (called a chassis) are covered with highly purified and odorless vegetable or animal fat and the petals of the botanical matter that are being extracted are spread across it and pressed in. The flowers are normally freshly picked before so encased in their fatty bed.
The petals remain in this greasy compound for a few days to allow the essence to disperse into the compound, where the then depleted petals are removed and replaced with a fresh harvest of petals.
This process is repeated until the greasy mix is saturated with the essence, and needs to be repeated a couple of times until saturation is achieved.
When the mix has reached saturation point the flowers are removed and the enfleurage pomade - the fat and fragrant oil - then washed with alcohol to separate the extract from the remaining fat, which is then used to make soap.
As soon as the alcohol evaporates from the mixture you are left with the essential oil. This is a very labor-intensive way of extraction, and needless to say a very costly way to obtain essential oil and is nowadays only sometimes used to extract essential oil from tuberoses and jasmine. The essential oils is separated from the fat through a process not unlike a solvent extraction, using ethyl alcohol."

According to Wikipedia, there are actually two seprate methods of enfelurage ~cold and hot:

“In cold enfleurage, a large framed plate of glass, called a chassis, is smeared with a layer of animal fat, usually from pork or beef, and allowed to set. Botanical matter, usually petals or whole flowers, are then placed on the fat and their scent is allowed to diffuse into the fat over the course of 1-3 days. The process is then repeated by replacing the spent botanicals with fresh ones until the fat has reached a desired degree of fragrance saturation. In hot enfleurage, solid fats are heated and botanical matter is stirred into the fat. Spent botanicals are repeatedly strained from the fat and replaced with fresh material until the fat is saturated with fragrance.

In both instances, the fragrance-saturated fat is now called the "enfleurage pomade". The enfleurage pomade is washed or soaked in ethyl alcohol to draw the fragrant molecules into the alcohol. The alcohol is then separated from the fat and allowed to evaporate, leaving behind the essential oil of the botanical matter. The spent fat is usually used to make soaps since it is still relatively fragrant.”

Today synthetic jasmine is easily produced and preferred due to the extreme cost of enfleurage and hedione is one of the most usual ingredients in substitution of real jasmine essence, a synthetic that smells of the greener, fresher part of jasmine; however in quality perfumes some real jasmine absolute is added to remove the harshness.
As a final note, although jasmine notes and perfumes are usually considered heady and animalic in the universe of perfumery, actual perfumes that are considered thus are a tad further from the flower. Someone saying that a "clean" jasmine scent does not posess a "true" jasmine quality sometimes denotes that one is not acquainted with the flower itself. A "true" jasmine scent would be cleaner, lighter or fresher than most of them. It is the enfleurage method that produces headier scents and it has to do with the inevitable decay that happens during the process, that allows much more of the indolic character of the flower to surface, a fact that is not as predominant when the flower is on the vine.

Next part coming soon.....

Pic of jasmine courtesy of mgonline.com
Pic of Joy bottle from Patou site.

New fragrance line: Nasomatto Perfumes reviews

As you might have known if you have been reading PerfumeShrine long enough, this is a blog that aims to pose questions and make you ponder as much as anything. No ready "recipes" or flowery purple prose for the sake of it. So whenever we test something new and considered groundbreaking it is taken with several shakers of salt and what it conveys is really thought out before passing judgement.
As I elaborated on my previous post, much of the perfume world is revolving round the gimmick and the "perceived" value rather than the core definition of quality. So it is with these factors in mind that the Nasomatto line was being evaluated, for the first time in its entirety on any perfume blog, to the best of my knowledge.

Gimmick is too often the last refuge of brilliant advertisers and marketeers who have stumbled upon the block of too many fragrances out there and all competing for the same crowd. The niche world is by definition a smaller audience and to grab its attention some greater effort is required it seems.
For example what line could be more gimmicky that the rather new État Libre d'Orange? With the royally satiric tag line "Perfume is dead, long live perfume!" and with scent names such as Éloge du Traitre (=Praise of a Traitor), Nombrile Immense (=big belly button), the borderline porn smell of Sécretions magnifiques or the more outré still names of Putain de palaces (=palace whore) and Don't get me wrong baby, I don't swallow , the house that is using three Givaudan perfumers is bent on eliciting attention through their ox-feller presentation.

In contrast, Nasomatto Perfumes line is fairly subdued. Of course the manifesto is -predictably- wishing to break the mould and make for distinguished wearers, as you can attest by this:

I take advantage of what you always said about me
I take advantage of your sexual essence
I take advantage of drugs and food
I take advantage of my olfactive memory and trips
I take advantage of mistakes
I take advantage from the Z1
I take advantage of the best raw materials
I give advantage to people longing to distinguish themselves

The masterminds are both italian, Allesandro and Arturetto, who had been students in Germany at the H&R company for courses in "medieval" perfumery. We're told that Allesandro was taught by Arturetto and then went on to create fragrances for designers such as Romeo Gigli, Versace, Valentino, Helmut Lang and Fendi, finally locating in Amsterdam and re-uniting with Arturetto to launch his private vision: a line of his own niche perfumes, called Nassomato.

The line, comprised of 5 fragrances, is characterised by its heavy, fun, loud and individual style that isn't afraid to take risks and produce potent stuff. For what it's worth I think that there is a thin line between heavy and too heavy. And although much of the scented products of today fall into the inspid, too light, too fleeting camp which might generate continual re-spritzing and thus elevated consumption per ml, it does leave the consumer with a sense of wasting money down the drain, as ultimately they complain about the lack of sillage and staying power of scents compared to older classics. The tenacity of modern perfumes is usually achieved through synthetic enhancers and those leave something to be desired for as invariably the bases used are predictable and not as rich and nuanced as those of yore. In Nasomatto, the staying power is quite good for most of the fragrances in the line and it has to do with the high concentration of the juice as well: extrait de parfum in bottles capped with a square arhictectural wooden cap.
What is also noteworthy is that contrary to most lines, they absolutely do not issue notes for their perfumes, which can be a double-ended sword: good, because it leaves the consumer judge for what he/she smells per se and not what is led to believe is in there; and bad because -let's face it- so much of the niche fragrance buying is happening online, unsniffed, by people who wouldn't have access to such perfumes otherwise, who yet love being individual and so often it is such a disappointing experience to proceed in such a way...

So in the interests of helping along, here is what PerfumeShrine thought of each and every one of them:

Duro: Per the company blurb "the fragrance aims to enhance all the manifestations of male strength". Duro means strong and durable in italian and indeed this masculine scent with guts aims to hit bull's eye and not veer off the course for a second. It is bracing, leathery, with a character of strong affinities. I seem to detect patchouli and hints of grassy coffee in there which make for a dry and potent mix. It demands a wearer with some personality to carry it off, yet I can see that it is very modern and not something that could have been issued 2 or 3 decades before. It does not develop too much retaining the tonalities of the starting point well into the drydown.

Hindu Grass: This -to my nose- unisex scent "aims to breathe the belief in universal peace and love. It is the result of a quest for the warm affection of humanity". Of course it might require much more for universal peace and love, yet the fragrance blends what seems to be a very hippy-ish amount of herbs and grasses that smell dry, pleasant and lightly cooling, fit for any season. There is a hint of mint to my nose and it intermingles with other herbal notes and possibly some ionones to instill a sense of playful, serene walks in woods or grassy knolls, reading a book in the shade, cooling off with a glass of green tea.

Narcotic Venus: As its name suggests this is patently feminine, "the result of a quest for the overwhelming addictive intensity of female sexual power" and as one might surmiss is based on that most narcotic and potent flower of them all: tuberose. It marries to some other floral essences of a white nature which are not discernible per se and the sillage is loud and strong for those who have Fracas and Carnal Flower affinities and proclaiments. Venus it is and at its most predatory, on top. I suggest you proceed with caution, but if it fits it can be a great weapon in your arsenal.

Absinth: "The fragrance aims to evoke degrees of hysteria. It is the result of a quest to stimulate irresponsible behaviour" is what the company tells us. And frankly I cannot see why this would produce anything like hysteria, as it is a wonderful fragrance full of bittersweet notes of herbs, earthy pungent vetiver, possibly angelica or wormwood and some sweet element of vanillic florancy in there that accounts for the most delectable semi-gourmand effect possible. If this is how a modern aromatic gourmand should be made, then I'm all for it. It proved to be a favourite from the line, although I obviously liked a couple more and I can see how men and women alike who go for something individual would go for it. It lasts well, has a more subtle effect upon putting it on and then develops nicely and warm to the skin retaining its properties for a long long time. A winner!

Silver Musk: "The fragrance aims to evoke superhero magnetism. It is the result of a quest for mercurial liquid love sensation". Or so they say. For once more I am going to dispute part of the advertorial and say that this is a lovable very approachable clean musk with egyptian tendencies that on my skin was a bit close to the wonderful, elusive and very expensive Narciso Musk for her oil by Narciso Rodriguez, although not as gorgeous. They both seem to utilise the same synthesized musks that account for a cuddly, clean, erotic undertow that makes people approach a little closer and lean over wondering what is that magical spell that has gotten them entangled in your web. If you like that sort of ambience, you couldn't go wrong with Silver Musk. Possibly the easiest in the bunch and with good lasting power.

The company has their own site: click for the official Nasomatto site.
The line is available at First in Fragrance/Aus liebe zum Duft for now. Click here to sample/order. Each Nasomatto sample costs 4 euros and you can order a minimum of 15 euros just for samples on the FIF site.

They come in Extrait de Parfum in 30ml/1oz for 90 euros each.


And for those who comment on this post, we have proclaimed a little LUCKY DRAW!. Three SAMPLES of our choosing to go to them FREE of charge, so they can experience for themselves the new Nasomatto line. Just post a comment that you want to enter the lucky draw and you're in.
I will notify you about the lucky winner very soon.

Pic of bottle comes from First in Fragrance. Absinth glass pic courtesy of Wikipedia.

Perfume: gimmick or innovation? And at what price?

A closeted skeleton in the cupboard of perfume business world is price. Actual retail price. And the relevance that it has to the spectrum of factors that determine it.

Of course perfume creation entails many things to consider: costly and not so costly raw materials, perfumer outsourcing (the houses that produce scents use perfumers who invariably work for one of the Big Companies: IFF, Givaudan Roure, Quest, Haarmar & Reimer , Dragoco, Takasago), laboratory experimentation and all that entails (discarded batches, work hours paid to technicians, etc), creative, marketing and PR team budget, packaging and advertising costs, copyright legal clauses. It is difficult, I can tell you!
Even niche companies that work outside the umbrella process just described often have to account for some of the above factors.

However how much of this reflects on the actual quality of the jus? Is price a real indication of quality? Or is it irrelevant of that?
Let’s ponder on this for a while.

Too often among people who occupy themselves with perfume as a hobby there is the prevalent notion that products that cost a lot must be in some form superior to those that are considered inexpensive. The old dictum “I’m not rich enough to buy cheap” is still considered good advice in buying. I remember it was the domineering attitude among women of a previous generation here when they went out shopping for clothes, leather goods and other comparable items: they opted for something seemingly expensive which they assumed would last longer, perform better and give them a sense of decency and class. I certainly agree on those merits if we’re talking about the above goods.
Nevertheless the latest trend is “luxury for all” in the whole industrialized western world translating in good quality objects for relatively affordable prices and this is something that is dear to my heart. I think it is one step ahead of the new money penchant for exhibiting vulgar displays of wealth.
But is it relevant when talking about fragrance?

The issue of raw materials is pivotal to my mind if we are to seriously discuss this. Much as with cosmetics and skincare products, what is contained in the jar or pot is what ultimately makes the crucial difference. If you find yourself reading the ingredients list of Crème de la Mer with its up till some years ago exorbitant price ~ over 130$ for 1oz ~ (and I’m saying “up till some years ago”, because in the last 6-7 years most of the skincare market has gone after its way) you find yourself face to face with mineral oil, thickeners and some algae. Which can be easily had at the drugstore for a mere 99 cents (that is the price of the Nivea cream which is comparable in texture, moisturizing properties and overall feel, per consumers on MUA)!
L’oréal was ahead of the trends when they invested their vast experience and technical expertise on mass-market lines such as Garnier and Plénitude, sold at the shelves of drugstores and supermarkets, using comparable innovations as those used in their upmarket lines such as Rubinstein and Lancôme. The result? The products fly off the shelves in record time and they also win prizes for both ends of the price spectrum for the same amount of research (enter the recent Prix d’Excellence awards bestowed by European journalists regarding their innovative dermo-adaptive molecule used in both Vichy and Lancôme skincare). They’re clearly on to something!
Now I ask again: does this same practice pertain to perfume?

Apparently too often in our modern era perfume ingredients come astoundingly cheap and astoundingly uniform across lines: since it’s usually the same exact Big Companies who produce perfumes for high and low end houses, it is too often the case that a perfume by –say- X prestige brand is also using the majority of ingredients of Y celebrity frag (I’m using the latter reference as celebrity-endorsed scents are too often regarded with disdain among perfume lovers as being “cheap” and not desirable products capitalizing on a passing infatuation with said celebrity ~ which mind you, I’m not 100% disagreeing with!).
All too often they’re manufactured by the same noses/perfumers too! A comparative search is very telling!

So what is so different that validates the difference in retail price, the distribution channel and the consequent expression of elation on the average recipient’s face of such a perfumed gift? (Because surely you have seen some marked difference when you present someone with something from Dior vs. something from Stetson, right?).

For some reason there is an addendum to perfume.
Maybe exactly because it is still something of a mystery: its practices, its ingredients, its way of being composed is not completely revealed to the public. There is a list of some ingredients on the box of perfumes as of lately, but those are simply some of those that are purported to be in danger of skin sensitizing or triggering allergies, hence their inclusion under the newest laws. It is by no means a conclusive list of contents.
And here is where advertising, packaging and marketing enter the equation.

The collective subconscious is coaxed to buy into a myth, especially if we’re talking about big brands and houses with history and pedigree behind them. And indeed many aspects of that myth are beautifully incorporated into the presentation of perfume. Consider the immortal quote of Coco Chanel “A woman without perfume has no future”, or Patou’s campaign for Joy “the costliest perfume in the world”. Or the rich history of Guerlain with the anecdotal stories behind many of their creations, such as the Jicky tale about the young English girl that the son fell hopelessly in love with, the Shalimar tale of the Indian love-affair in the gardens, the 1001 Nights tale behind the creation of Nahéma or the tragic love-story inspired by a novel for the grand Mitsouko.
The fawning over perfume advertising –of which I am no less guilty than most- is also testament to this.
The beautiful flacons are contributing in turn to impulse purchases or calculated decisions from people who are very bent on the visual. Many times the outer cast of something has lied to us about the contents, so we buy the exquisite bottle for it to be displayed for our artistic delectation rather than used for its contents. This is where the limited editions and Baccarat collectibles work so well and will continue to be produced for this exact reason: man (and woman) is a highly visual-oriented animal.

There is also something called concept and conceptual artistic merit (you can click here and here for some insight on what I think). This comes more into play with niche brands, as the big houses are in their vast majority producing press releases that invariably view perfume as a means of seduction or at the very least presentable “package” of the wearer to his/her intended audience.
Niche houses on the contrary have taken steps into bypassing this somehow contained notion by expanding the reasons one might opt for wearing a particular perfume: asserting one’s true personality, invoking olfactory landscapes, sourcing long-forgotten memories, intellectualizing olfaction or even creating a distance and introspective mood that is meant only for the wearer to enjoy ~the olfactory equivalent of an I-pod and headphones on the subway: a modern urban shield from the outer world.
The practice has been explored in various degrees by several niche houses: Lutens with his Arabic tradition concept, F.Malle with his collection of auteurs who produce only what they deem worthy themselves, the pleiad of Natural Perfumers who insist on using their natural essences in a way that is ecologically sound and artistically in tune with the universe, Comme des Garcons with their completely iconoclastic anti-perfumes meant to shock and make you think, Gaubin Daude, Tauer, L’artisan parfumeur, Ormonde Jayne, you name it…They all have tried to give a voice to a vision in their minds and remain consistent with that instead of trying to be all things to all people the way big houses and designer fragrances usually are.
Yet do they all succeed? And are their prices justified by those two tokens mentioned: innovation of vision and raw materials? It seems to me that the answer cannot be a simple blanket one. There are as many nuances in the niche world as there are in products of conglomerates and big Luxury Groups. Some do have better quality than others, some do have a more concrete vision than others and I can see how that might influence a preference and predisposition of looking forward to their latest releases.

This is what ultimately makes decision so difficult and testing of such paramount importance. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much something is praised by perfume connoisseurs or how beautiful the adverts looks or how prestige the brand and name sound, you have to really like it yourself to be able to wear it and enjoy it to the last dregs of a real retailed-price purchased whole bottle (no steals and bargains missy, we’re watching you!).
And if you repurchase, then it is really something to celebrate about: you have found a winner! Bravo!



Top pic originally uploaded on MUA but have since had trouble locating her username. If you do know it, let me know, I think it is brilliant!
Pic of Baldini and Grenouille characters from film "Perfume: story of a murderer" courtesy of Ohnotheydidnt/Livejournal.com.

Ipanema and A la figue by Satellite: fragrance reviews

Sometimes one comes across some special people who are kind, generous, lovely. And on some rare occassions it so happens that those special people are also "perfume people", aromaphiles. I have known a few of those and they have sent me wonderful, rare things to try out, of which I am going to continue reporting in the future for your delectation.
One especially lovely lady known for her tremendous generosity gifted me with an assorted bag of goodies that included two of the new Satellites, I had talked about before: Ipanema and A la figue. She is deeply thanked for the sniffa experience.
So without further ado, my impressions of the two.

Ipanema named after the infamous brazilian beach between Leblon and Arpoador in Rio de Janeiro is imbued in Curacao shades of an endless turqouise, clear like a jewel made of blue topaz. The colour alone is making this enchanting to look at and enticing to put on. The official notes list ylang ylang, orange, grapefruit, freesia, sandalwood, coconut, white flowers, tonka bean, vanilla, sea accord and patchouli.
Now coconut has never been a very favourite perfume note of mine, because of the association I get with those dreaded pine-cardboard things dangling from the mirrors of derelict taxis, swaying their way across the national routes on your way from a rural airport to the point of your vacation destination on a white rock island. For some uncanny reason, most of my similar itineraries have been branded by this same memory, taxi driver always kind and offering tips and quips about the vacation spot to be visited, often also chain-smoking. Yet the permeating coconut scent of the pine decoration diverting my attention. Luckily, this all happened during the summer, when windows are rolled way down, when the nature is simmering under the hot brazing sun and the herbs of the field sing their own Pan-flute tune. The greek paysage smells nothing like coconut, to be sure. This pertains to far more tropical destinations, such as the one invoked by the mention of Brazil and Ipanema, of course. So I can see why the inclusion.
The coconut is quite pronounced which will satisfy people with a craving for the exotic and coupled with copious amounts of ylang ylang it takes the whole into a place of abandon to the sensuality of physical pleasures. You have to make sure that your wax is perfect and your bikini is brazilian-worthy-tiny, or at least cultivate that fantasy in your mind like the best of Heffner wannabes want you to do.
Regardless, the fragrance alone can get you to a place that looks like a technicolour movie of the 50s starring Elvis but underneath the dark mantle of earthy patchouli, as the scent progresses on skin, reminds you that this is the country of the favelas.(for a quick definition click here) A place of a wide divide: between the rich and the poor, the superficial and the meaningful, the facade and the core. Ipanema the fragrance, although not aiming for such meaningful elucidations, is adequatelly bringing the two into the fore.

A la figue, another Satellite new scent, also uses coconut as a fragrance note, although it is not officially mentioned. The playfull name that etches itself on both the figue(french for fig) and the fugue (depart, as in travel or daydreaming I like to imagine)caught my attention and the association of figs is very greek-like to me, as it is often the case that large fig trees are scattered across the fields and yards of properties imbuing the air with their dusty, creamy aroma that promises langorous days of summer, figs consumed after a dip in the big blue sea, washed and peeled under the tree and consumed with wild hunger after the swim, the dark red sticky juice marring hands, lips, caftans over bikins and assorted paraphernalia necessary for a day spent in the great ourdoors. It is no coincidence that L'artisan's Premier Figuier is one of my summer staples, as it evokes all those endearing associations in my mind of which I often partook as a child and even as a grown-up.

Figs have an interesting story behind them. As fig of the genus ficus is translated as "sūkon/syco" in greek, it was the proud export of the land of Attica, the broader land around the city state of Athens. In light of the trade significance of figs, which were prized all around the ancient world for their nourishing and medicinal properties, it was forbidden to pluck them out without licence or to trade them. However, human nature being what it is throughtout the millenia, there were still people who broke the law and took figs, especially from the holy fig trees beside temples, which bore a copious crop. Pretty soon there were people who took it as their task to report those violators, the informers or "sycophantes", deriving from sūkon phainein, to show a fig (sūkon, fig + phainein, to show). Of course, noble as the reporting was at the start, it soon transpired that it might bear a wonderful chance to carry out personal vendettas between enemies: if one hated someone else and had a grudge against them, what easier way to instill harm than to report them as stealing the figs from the trees? And this is where the whole "dicanic" tradition of ancient greece is based on, but this is perhaps the subject of another post.
In Latin times, the word lost its initial meaning, gaining the mantle of "a servile self-seeker who attempts to win favor by flattering influential people" according to Webster's. And thus it entered the english language. Ah, but the fig had its revenge here at last. And what an influential fruit it has been, being also mentioned in the Gospels (mentioned here in reference to Holy Monday) and the proverbial garb of the modest in Paradise.

The creaminess of the initial opening in A la Figue is redolent of the milky sap of actual fig fruit, the way they are a little unripe at first, sqeezed to produce a whitish milk juice that is a skin irritant (you have been warned!). Very soon, the greeness of notes that give an air of leaves and the bark enter, underscored all the while by the slightly vanillic coconut hint of the fruit peel and compliment the whole with their earthy aroma of wood and earth that reminds one of the might fig trees swaying in the wind. In this aspect it is quite close to Premier Figuier, perhaps a little more coconuty. It lasts on the skin sensually with an earthy quality that is classy and succulent and I can see it as great supplement to a summer wardrobe for people who love woody and creamy smells. A wonderful new addition!


Pic of coconut courtesy of oriflame.com, figs by DWSPL/T.Scott from dwpicture.com/au

Bianco by Trussardi: fragrance review

Trussardi launched Bianco, a limited edition fragrance for women by well-known nose Alberto Morillas, last summer in Europe but I only got to try it recently.

"Bianco": italian for white... And oh, how greek the colour white seems to me, nevertheless.
In a land of hot rock and azure sea like no other, white is the emblem of the Aegean houses scattered on the slopes of bare islands, asbestos on the outside, human "fire" burning in the inside.
One island in particular will always remain in my memory as the quintessential white place: Santorini or Thera, as it is also called; the island of legend of Atlantis and reality, intermingled in volcanic eruptions producing black sand, little wineries and archaological digs like no other place on earth.
If you want to feast your eye on white, on the pure kind that reflects the light scorching your retinas, burning your skin and filling your soul with the longing of an ancient whisper flying in the wind, look no further. As the sun dips down in breathtaking beauty tourists from all over the world clap their hands in awe, sitting on cool verandas etched on the edge of the deepest existing caldera on the planet, sipping long drinks in a langorous mood fit for such a slow-paced existence, white linen clothes breezing in the wind.


If you do want to see it immortalised in film, go rent Lara Croft Tomb Raider 2: Cradle of Life or for those more romantically inclined The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants or Summer Lovers, all shot in part on the white island. Which might give you ideas...
And if you ever, just once in your lifetime, find yourself to be blessed to be able to set foot on this mystical place, invest in this small boutique hotel for VIPs that will remain indelible in your heart of hearts forever. (seriously, just click on the photos...then you tell me)

The new Trussardi perfume does not evoke such gloriousness however, despite its suitability to the sensibilities of a greek lazy summer spent on a small island. Bianco is said to evoke the feeling of Trussardi Skin, a claim that I am not inclined to dispute although the two do not share more than a passing similarity that can be attributed to their skin-like scent and the way they meld on the individual upon application. However Skin is more distinctive, while in Bianco the white musk of the base lingers to the exclusion of all else in the later dry down. The opening is lightly fruity and has a watery floral element that smoothes its way on the skin, to leave behind a hint of a peppery interlay of warmth and cool that soon exits.
The initial grapefruit note is nothing like the tart opening of cheeky upstarts like In love again or Baby Doll, nor the watery ambience of cool egyptian royal attendants of Un Jardin sur le Nil.Here it is temptered and smoothed out to the point that it loses its characteristic tang and bittery rind quality, a fact that could be lamentable. The lasting power of the mid notes is average and while the drydown does present a lingering impression, it is more evident on a blotter than on actual human skin. It is suited to summer in warm climates, but it would wither not blooming its full potential in winter, I'm afraid.
Notes: pink grapefruit, water lily, gooseberry, magnolia, white pepper, woods, amber and musk.

Trussardi Bianco comes in 30 and 75 ml Eau de Toilette, available at european Sephoras.

Pics of Imerovigli in Santorini courtesy of George Meis/eu.art.com

Fahrenheit 32 by Dior: fragrance review

Why was this new men's scent baptised with this weird name? Well, for starters, there was the classic fragrance Fahrenheit by Dior that erupted into the scene in 1988 with all the gusto of an iconoclast along with its female counterpart Dune.
And then, it is exactly 32 degress Fahrenheit that water freezes: equivalent of 0 degrees in the Celsius scale.

This scaling system is quite fascinating if one takes into account another classic of sorts, of a more profound level perhaps: that of the printed word. The dystopian science fiction by Ray Bradbury called "Fahrenheit 451", in which the author describes a future american society that wrapped up in sybaritic living and anti-intellectual tendencies abhors books and goes on to burn them.

The protagonist, Ray Montag, is the very witty antithesis of His Girl Friday of the famous classic era movie, especially since in true german spirit (physicist Daniel Gabriel Fahrenheit was German) "Mondag" means "Monday". And yes, this novel has also been filmed.
Fahrenheit 451 on the other hand is the point of auto-ignition of paper...Semantics, semantics.
For some dark, pessimistic reason I am quite convinced that the state of affairs in the world currently do not distance us too much from this nightmarish Orwellian vision. But perhaps I am digressing.

To revert to the "frozen" aspect of this quite cooler Fahrenheit, mes amis, as you might have surmissed by now, this new offering is what is affectionately called a "flanker": a perfume that follows up the successful anion bearing a variation of the name; yet usually either having nothing whatsoever in common with the genetic pool of the former or alternatively featuring a very slight variation of it, questioning the purpose of its existence apart from the boost that it would bring to the sales of both.
Fahrenheit 32 places itself in the first category. It bears little similarity to the classic fragrance and is intended as a tribute to the synthesized orange blossom that has been explored in men's scent recently also by the wonderful Fleur dy Mâle by Gaultier, reviewed just a little while ago. (click here for full review)
Designed by now former artistic director Heidi Slimane with the collaboration François Demachy it has been concocted by nose Louise Turner of Quest.

The general direction is one of a fresh oriental-woody that intermingles piquant aldehydic touches with orange blossom, light smooth vanilla, and what smells to my nose as delicate synthetic musks. The earthiness and slighty dirty appeal of vetiver does not come to the fore, despite its graceful way of making fragrances cool in every sense of the word.
The description goes like this: fresh top notes, orange blossom and vetiver for the hear nnotes, vanilla and solar notes for the base.
Indeed the freshness is akin to a cooling spray, which is implied by the white bottle that takes the classic one of original Fahrenheit to a new techno trip under strobo lights. It's opalescence and smooth milky texture reminded me a lot of the woman's Pure Poison, which I think is not coincidental, as that too is also based on the same synthesized orange blossom note and delivers itself with a freshness that pierces the nostrils for a while.

Compared to Fleur du Mâle it is not much further apart, yet in a way that one captured me more and retained my interest more avidly. Fahrenheit 32 is very likeable and on the scent strip lingers nicely making one to sniff and resniff to consolidate the memory, but a classical masculine fragrance it can never pose to be. It's again a little too feminine for its own good, which makes it fodder for either adventurous guys or the girlfriends who I am sure will fall under its charms.


Top pic In search of the unicorn by bigbird3/flickr
Pic of fahrenheit 451 by Wikipedia

Michael Kors Island Hawaii: fragrance review

"Pack your bags chicka and let’s get to the tropics!", shouts excitedly the dark haired beau with the bright polo shirt and the suave moves. "South Seas to be exact!" If the promise of a lei and tropical beaches of sugar spun sand and gigantic palm trees moving in the wind weaves a spell on your innermost hedonist and you associate summer pleasures with such paradises then get yourself prepared for a joyful journey to that destination with a prolonged sniff of Michael Kors Island Hawaii.
This is a variation of his more watery Island fragrance that was encased in an aqua bottle of the same heavy square-lined design and is accompanied by another edition called Island Fiji.

Michael Kors has been instrumental in one of the sartorial masterpieces of modern day cinema, for which I will be always grateful: the remake of “The Thomas Crown Affair” (and the original is right up there in my pantheon of pantheons). In it Renee Russo prances around in his prêt-a-porter with much aplomb, all flushed cheeks and coppery hair (it suited her to a T!) exhibiting the kind of clothes we would all want to wear and feel like a million bucks every single day of our existence. It was breathtaking and this is an Yves Saint Laurent enthusiast that is talking to you now. The artwork (since this “scam” is taking place in a gallery and not a bank this time around) didn’t hurt either. But the costumes on both protagonists are perfectly enhancing their enviable bodies. In one memorable scene Renee is going to the Caribbean on a spur of the moment thing, in which dressed in simply a vest and a sarong she looks stunning and oh-so-carefree. Wish I could wake up to look like that every day too!

From then on I paid some closer attention to Mr.Kors and his designs. His advice too with whom he was profuse it seems, garnering column inches in glossy mags such as Allure and In Style. I still remember his advice to always smile and always have a little subtle tan on (I do hope in those ultraviolet-menacing days he means the fake kind) and I figured “now there’s a man of summer mood!” (something which I am not; I mean “of summer mood” of course, in case it was vague…).
Anyway, it was even funnier still when that camp masterpiece of American satire in film “Zoolander” came up with what is the most ingenious caricature of designing to this day embodying both the personae of Gaultier and Kors into the personification of Mugatu/Will Ferell making for hilarious results.
Click here to see a sample:

Kors had my sympathy still.

And so when his perfumes came out and became available where I live I gave them the proper time of day.
His original Michael is a tuberose symphony that is heard loud and clear as if you put Wagner into the stereophonic installation of a big car with windows rolled down, coming up from streets ahead, loud bass swamping everything across its way. It was lovely, magnificent, but so potent that it had me seriously questioning whether anyone could sustain so much of a good thing.
His other creation Kors was featuring a port note that to my nose was very welcome and it shall be included in upcoming posts of a different nature altogether that pertain more to the sommelier than the parfumeur (hopefully I have thus intrigued you!).
And then came Island which to me was pleasant, but not too much note-worthy. A decant saw me through last summer and that was that.
Imagine my surprise when I saw the very same bottle encased in bright vermillon on the shelves of Sephora tagged Island Hawaii. The brightness of the colour was beckoning like a light in the sea. A sign of coming to it or to avoid it? The doubt is only really answered when one sniffs and then lives to tell the tale.
And so I did.

The initial burst of very tart and sweet fruits in the guise of clementines and oranges was irresistible and although these are fruits that do not pass my lips in any shape or form I do enjoy smelling their delicious rind aroma in perfumes. It was mouthwatering and despite the much despised “fruity” tag they captured my attention right away.
Right after this a phase of slight soapiness segues in milled in jasmine and neroli which exude a lovely latheriness like emerging sprite-like from a blue lagoon of crystal clear waters. Hydroponic pineapple is a fancy word for a watery synthesized pineapple note that is not too apparent to my nose (certainly not like in Maitre Parfumer et Gantier’s Bahiana) but the lusciousness of the juicy fruit is continuing madly seducing me into getting a frilly cocktail with little paper umbrellas (so not me, the straight vodka and red wine consuming type I could scream!). Yet it is indeed lovely and I can’t hide the fact. It carries the tropical flowers torch from Michael original scent but with much more playfulness and gusto.
As the scent dries down, it retains much of the orange tone of the original impression with jasmine overlays that are married to a little amber that accounts for warmth and nice longevity on the skin.

In comparison Island Fiji is much closer to the plainly named aqua Island and to my nose a tad inferior. But if bent you need to test for yourself to ascertain.


The press release has this to offer:
"Developed jointly by International Flavors & Fragrances and Trudi Loren, vice president of corporate fragrance development worldwide for Aramis and Designer Fragrances, the fragrance breaks down as follows:

TOP NOTES: clementine, juicy orange, hydroponic pineapple & neroli
HEART: orange flower, jasmine sambac & Hawaiian ginger lily
DRYDOWN: white amber, creamy sandalwood & balsamic notes"

I am so getting a bottle of this!

Available at major department stores and Sephora (60$ for 1.7oz/50ml)

Artwork Hawaiian Pin Up girl 1949 by Al Moore courtesy of allposters.com
Bottle pic from Kors advertising campaign.
Clip uploaded by LPAS

Happy Mother's day!

My own beautiful, tender, loving mother used to love two perfumes: Cabochard by madame Gres and Dioressence by Christian Dior. She loved the exoticism, the mystery, the sillage, everything they entailed. And as my childhood was spent in close company to my mother and her many talented ways, those two have left an indelible print on the tracks of my mind. Despite the assertive character of those "barbare" scents, my mother was anything but and the juxtaposition only made the impression stronger, more fortissimo.
The memory of the sensual and yet reassuring way she smelled has me left with a desire to transfer this kind of olfactory fingerprint to my offspring some day as well: when I am long gone they will perhaps reminiscence about their mother in lacquered images of spicy Opium and think just how it was ingrained in my personality and aura.

Sadly, the perfumes posing as Cabochard and Dioressence today do not reflect but a mere spectre of the magnificence of the vintages that she used to wore all those years ago. The vagaries of fashion and the shortcomings of the industry have managed to ruin one of my most precious memories...

However to those of you who celebrate today (and you must be many!many wishes to you all) I can only wish that the olfactory visage of a loved one will stay with you for ever, as did my beloved mum's.




Pics courtesy of Parfum de pub.

Attitude by Armani: fragrance review

What's in a name? As it is obvious from the following links (here, here and here), plenty! Names can be poetic, pedestrian, plebian, pleading or pleasant, but they always leave a significant imprint on the ear and the mind.
Not less so when it comes to perfume names.

Hence my slight dissent with the name of the new male fragrance by Giorgio Armani, called Attitude. With a name like that one would expect something of a bombastic olfactory grenade hurled into the air regardless of who catches fire and acting with an air of assumed impunity.
It is perhaps my onerous duty to report that neither of those things is happening.
Although no one could accuse Attitude of smelling badly, a memorable fragrance it ain't. In the plethora of department store offerings it doesn't make a bleep on the screen of consiousness, but melts into the background like the brushstrokes of an experienced painter who caters for the salons of the rich producing pretty prortraits and still lives that have not much to say to the viewer apart from their uniform pleasantness and the signature of someone well-known.

The perceived target group of the new offering would be the man who "affirms himself, cultivates the art of being just, absolutely himself. Without provocation, demands, embarassment, nor complexes." Indeed all the elements of an "attitude", although exactly which avenue that latter might traipse on is not indicated.

"Being himself" or "herself": is there a more confusing way of putting things I wonder. What exactly is a sense of self? Who are we? Are we the sum of our experiences and memories? The product of our respective environments? The predestined momentum that came into being through a higher power? Or are we the sole oeuvre of our own deeper understanding and affirming it proudly to the world?
It's a very perplexing matter and one which demands everyone of us looks deep down into themselves to try and analyse. The search for a personal identity is a life-long journey: constantly evolving upon firmly grown tendencies, if I am allowed to use the paradoxical justaposition of two opposites.

But reverting to the scent, the "attitude" doesn't materialise beyond the pleasant and innofensive. Conceived by esteemed noses such as Annick Menardo, Olivier Cresp, and Alberto Morillas of Firmenich, it includes interesting notes that materialise in different proportions accounting for the ending result.
The official notes according to Osmoz are: sicilian lemon, coffee absolute, cardamom, lavender, smoky accord, chinese cedar, patchouli, opoponax, and amber.
Of those I am tentatively admiting to you that only the hesperide along with the woods traspire clearly and loudly on the paper strip. The rest need much more coaxing to appear if at all.
The coffee absolute accord promise was actually the one I had been dreaming of most of all, as it is one of my favourite notes in fragrances of either persuasion and I was a little disappointed in not getting it to "sing" its magical song on my skin. Lavender has never been a note that I am crazy about (with the exception of a few notable exceptions, one of which is Tauer's Reverie au jardin) so I didn't put too much emphasis on it anyway. It is also quite a traditional element in so many masculine colognes, that it's par for the course. The inclusion of patchouli is of course one of the major trends of the last decade,ever since Angel picked up and showed that the potential of a hippy oil can be greater than imagined and indeed it has softly embraced many fragrances in its cuddly and warm bosom.
What remains poised on skin is a warmish, nice amalgam of smoky woods and light amber that would never distance anyone with its aura, yet would never get you noticed for your wild personality either. You'd have to provide the attitude yourself!

Available from major department stores from May at the following prices:
42euros for 30ml,59euros for 50ml and 71euros for 75ml.



Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

Detchema by Revillon: fragrance review

If you have ever been wondering what lost innocence is made of, look no further than Roman Polanski’s 1968 Rosemary's Baby film classic and the floral romantic trail that accompanied the sweet and tender young protagonist Mia Farrow: Detchema by Revillon. Of course if you peeked a bit at Milton you wouldn’t be far off either, but I leave that for another post with more profound existentialist tendencies.
In the film of which a little glimpse you can catch clicking here Mia Farrow is destined to be the mother of the devil’s child, married to what seems like a great guy (played by John Cassavetes) who belongs to a sect of Satan worshipers, intent on bringing their devious plans about domination to fruition through the means of a Madonna in reverse. Everything seems normal on the surface, while deep down the ploy is getting on very well and no one suspects a thing until…..
The crucial toll of the bell comes too late for poor Mia who is hypnotized by all sorts of devious people into believing they’re all catering for her own good, hers and the child’s. Little does she know….or indeed do we all.

So her scent of choice is not far off: Detchema is indeed a gentle unassuming, powdery aldehydic floral of the 50s, introduced in 1953, a time when the ladylike florals and chypres reigned supreme.
Detchema took the theme of the aldehydic floral with a lactonic tenderness interwoven and got it to new heights along with Le Dix de Balenciaga. Less sensual than Chanel no.5, the iconic prototype of the aldehydic fragrance and somehow a bit more soapy (well, acrually quite a bit) than the gorgeous Le Dix, it still possessed professionalism and clean cut, ladylike images to recommend it. It projects a freshness of someone soignée and decked out in everyday chic the way they did it the old days.
It could also be likened to effect that the soapy Nocturnes or the tender Fleurs de Rocaille by Caron have on the psyche: instant transport into a different world.
Of course for those exact reasons it cannot claim any great demands on originality and innovation. She is one of the entourage, never the shinning star of the marquise, yet for what it is it is quite fetching.

All through the 60s and 70s this little gem had been revered and worn with pride by women while the bursting into scene of the orientals with a vengeance after the introduction of the mighty Opium in 1977 signaled the death toll. It never disappeared yet the reformulation during the 90s was inevitable to survive in a market where the vintage has been deemed old-fashioned and passé. And perhaps it is. Yet the lingering halo of innocence and timeless elegance this fragrance imparts to the wearer is reminding us of the youthful physique of Mia Farrow in this film, traipsing along New York, trapped inside the Dakota building.

The sweet armloads of ylang ylang with discernible hyacinth and the warmth of a little carnation get the treatment of a lovely and fresh peach note that along with neroli raises this into the territory of eternal sunshine. Yet the peach never becomes too pronounced, while the burst of putting this onto skin is akin to a refreshing mist on a body that is full of activity and life.
Powdered orris and tonka provide the tender drop on which the whole rests like the clean sheets of the bed on which Mia conceives baby Satan. Thanks to the inclusion of some earthy notes the whole never veers into too sweet avenues, remaining beautifully balanced.

The eau de toilette is especially powdery in the vintage while the parfum/extrait is the superior form with a smoothness that is precise and clear. The choice of Eau de parfum whom was a lucky inclusion in a package by a Canadian friend (to which I am grateful) is a happy medium and it will satisfy those who seek an insistent sillage eminently. It also lasts amazingly well. The vintage comes in a black box with gold filigree which is again fitting the visual reference I picked for it and it would be recommended to track it down in that form, although the new one is not badly made either.
Wear it and be prepared to lose your marbles. Or keep them if you’re smart enough.

Official fragrance notes: Peach, Neroli, Hyacinth, Bergamot, Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Carnation, Lily of the valley, Orris, Sandal, Vetiver, and Tonka.

Bottles of Detchema are on FragranceX and the Perfume House of Portland (taking mail orders)
Pic of the bottle courtesy of fragrancex, clip from youtube, song "Evil" by Interpol

Perfume news: Turin is working it

While we all know that Luca Turin has been working on a new Guide about old and new fragrances, about to be out next year, it is good to find out that he is meanwhile really, really working it, amassing some 1400 bottles in the process sent to him by the companies (well, he had half of them before, as he tells us in confidence) and really bending over those fumes to appreciate the intricacies and nuances.
I do hope the end result will be worthy of every perfumista's wet dream.

In the meantime, he confirms what lots of plainsfolk have been discussing about the eau de parfum formulation of Chanel no.5, that is perhaps *cough, cough* a little heavy-handed? "An eighties lapse of judgment" is how he puts it. I guess this puts a negative spin on poor Jacques Polge, the in house perfumer ever since that period. But it is indeed no secret that as far as no.5 is concerned the parfum/extrait is the way to go, all the way, baby! This is due to it being the only form in which the precious, very expensive jasmine and Rose de Mai (rosa centifolia)from Grasse, perfume capital of France, is still used. However to come to Polge's defence, the eau de parfum is not that bad either. In fact every permutation of No.5 is precious and worth sampling, so trust your own judgement when testing.

As to Guerlain, of course the collection is much more expansive with the unavoidable misses and commercial flops around the way, often no fault of the perfume itself (Fleur de Feu?), but we can clearly discern that Luca is still predisposed favourably towards our beloved Guerlain which is as good a thing as any.
The following is eminently interesting for those who follow the naturals vs. synthetics debate and sheds a light on why a fragrance that does contain natural extracts and essences is a wondrous thing indeed:

Guerlain, like food firms, should put dates on bottles. I had often heard, and never believed, that fragrances made with naturals change a lot in the first six months, as wine does. The family resemblance of fresh Guerlains is even stronger than usual, as if the Guerlinade base that is common to all of them was the first to fade. Some are so rich and complex that we decided to let them sit in a dark room for a few months, till they calm down and pull themselves together.

You can read the whole article in english here.

After all this, what more can I say? À nôtre santé!
Painting Distillatio by Janvander Straet(1523-1605)courtesy of allposters.com

Bond no.9 Coney Island: fragrance review

The time is ripe for me to present one of the better known niche brands with a unique concept that is not actually centered on an olfactory vision or a conceptual design, but instead on one of the most fascinating cities in the whole world: the Big Apple; New York and its exciting neighbourhoods, each one of them captured in a luxurious bottle reflecting its qualities and landmarks in aromas that entice.

Bond no.9 is the brainchild of Laurice Rahmé, a modern woman of firm business savvy, born in Paris, living in New York for the past 25 years and formerly known for her distribution of the prestigious Creed brand in the USA. Laurice began her career as an antiques dealer having studied art at the Louvre in Paris. But pretty soon she joined Lancôme-Paris as international training director, became the director of the Lancôme Institut de Beauté in 1976 and relocated to L’Oréal USA’s headquarters (formerly Cosmair) in New York City. In 1989, Rahmé became the partner of Annick Goutal’s operations in New York and contributed to the brand reaching cult status among the congnoscenti and sales that amounted to 90% of the brands worldwide business. Next, in 1995, Rahmé became the exclusive U.S. distributor for Creed and helped propel it into the conciousness of every discerning customer.
When that became a thing of the past, she realised that her own vision was left to be realised ~according to Bond no.9 website :

In 2001, Rahmé was able to realize her dream of launching her own collection of fragrances named after different neighborhoods in New York City. The collection’s name, Bond No. 9, is derived from the actual address of the flagship store, which is located at 9 Bond St. The store features self-serve stations from which different scents can be sampled and poured into a selection of bottles from one of many freestanding, mannequin-shaped displays. “For me, the store is a continuation of the packaging,” says Rahmé. She now owns and operates a total of four stores in Manhattan.

The concept of the perfumes is "to restore artistry to perfumery and to mark every New York neighbourhood with a scent of its own": from uptown to midtown to downtown, every little speck is covered in the huge collection of 28 women's, men's and unisex eaux de parfum so far in bottles that usually capture the eye and create cravings for luxury.
Of course the claim to restore artistry to perfumery can be pretty much attributed to every niche brand operating under the same principles and indeed that is one of the main reasons for choosing niche over more mainstream products. However the uniqueness of the locale concept is undisputed and always fun to peruse.
Indeed she reached great critical acclaim when her offering Chinatown by young nez (that's french for nose, the perfumer behind this) Aurélien Guichard was highly praised by none other than Luca Turin in one of his articles for NZZ Folio. West Side seems a perennial favourite among perfume afficionados, while my personal favourite remains New Haarlem with its strong coffee notes that make me swoon like a good demitasse and I do enjoy wearing the blackcurrant laced light musk of Scent of Peace. But there's something for everyone in this line.

As Laurice revealed in an interview at Basenotes to Danielle Osbourne on October 26 2006:

“It is the Bond Street store that inspired me to create a brand out of our address, Bond No.9. Yet, it is the events of September 11 that motivated me to make New York smell good again and take on the ambitious project of creating a fragrance for each of its neighborhoods (this was done for Paris, my native city in the 20th century with a dozen fragrances made by a handful of companies created for Paris neighborhoods). Now, in the 21st century it is New York's turn to become the capital of fragrance.”

Myself I find that endearing and respect Laurice for saying this. Additionally a fresh approach and a desire to break the rules and molds of yesterday can be a positive thing after all.

"And where does the new Coney Island fall?" you might ask.
I can tell you that it is a fun scent inspired by one of the most fun locales in New York City.
Purpotedly containing notes of margarita mix (tequila included), melon, guava, cinnamon, chocolate, caramel, musk, vanilla, cedar and sandalwood, it is certainly citrusy in its character and radiates a fun, pool-side languor in tropical sharongs with a fiery bright hibiscus pinned behind one ear.
The booze of the Margarita is very apparent to my nose, with slices of fresh lime and some salty element, adding fun and excitement and making this a great fragrance for a hot day spent at a fun and casual occassion. Just like Coney Island the locale stood for for the 1920s crowd who, aided by public transport, rushed to its shores to enjoy the beach and the fairs.
The salty sweet combination has been explored by Elixir des Merveilles and L de Lempicka recently with great success but in those instances the overall orientalised tone veers the end fragrance in different avenues.
The addition of fruit to the lasting citrus of Coney Island combines with a watery, acqueous element probably due to Calone (which is hinted at by the mention of melon) that manages to not make me shudder -taking my usual tastes into account- because of the slightly warm notes that evolve after a while to give roundness to the sharp start. The slightly spicy heart is evident if one waits a while, while the promisingly gourmand middle is not very pronounced, so people who have a sweet tooth looking forward to the candy floss and chocolate of fun fairs could become a little disappointed; however I do not think it was the brand's intention to construct a gourmand, sweet fragrance in the first place. This is a fragrance to evoke hot sand and drinks with little paper umpbrellas in them, none of the noir ambience that the real Coney island held at some point in Hollywood movies or contrarily the simplistic vanillic sweets of children sucking on lollipops. Today of course Coney Island is famous for its circus and mermaid parades which provide a unique sight replete with the shock value factor that New York City is famous for.
A slight warm amberish and musky accord is melting the whole into a light base in which the announced notes of sandalwood or cedarwood are not particularly evident either, yet it reminds me of a cross between YSL In Love again and Aquasun by Lancaster. Which is a good thing for a summer scent that is meant to compliment and not overwhelm.


According to the Press release:

What is the smell of fun—and how do you bottle it? That was our mission at Bond No. 9 when we decided to capture the essence of Coney Island and turn it into an eau de parfum. Why Coney Island? We were intrigued by the vintage allure of this century-old fantasy-land with its honky-tonk chic, its Mermaid Parade, its incomparable hotdog haven (Nathan’s Famous) fronting the Atlantic Ocean along Brooklyn’s southernmost edge. But we wanted to celebrate its future, too, just as a formidable revival is getting under way.

Coney Island isn’t just any amusement park. In its early 20th century heyday, New York’s premier people’s playground was a rowdy, mind-numbing pleasure-mecca that more than matched the energies of the city that contained it. Its daredevil rides—the legendary nine-hill Cyclone roller coaster … the Wonder Wheel … the freefall Parachute Jump—set a fevered, frantic pace, while its bathing pavilions were more like phantasmagorical gilded palaces that shimmered in the air. Not to forget the raucous nightspots. For a city that where glancing at strangers for more than two seconds has always been an impertinence, here was an escape hatch—a Bacchanalia where one and all had free rein to scream together in terror and joy. Sure, in recent decades Coney Island fell into decline, but today it is decidedly on the upswing, with brand new rides, a water park, and a mammoth glass atrium in the works.
Bond No 9’s Coney Island conjures up both the magical history and the reawakening of this beachfront paradise. Combined in this contemporary gourmand delight are the sugar-cool notes of margarita mix, hypnotically seductive chocolate and caramel, plus cedarwood. The high-voltage blue bottle recalls the Coney Island’s expanse of sea and sky, while the contrasting gold neck evokes the thousands of electric lights that once lit up its night sky.

The turquoise bottle is fetching in its bright shade garlanded by a ribbon of gold as if to represent little blub lights of fun fairs, although not as covetable as the bottle of Chinatown in all its Swarovski glory.

The new fragrance will officially launch on June 1st, but the stores take pre-orders by mid-May. It is sold at all four Bond No. 9 stores, at selected branches of Saks Fifth Avenue, and at Harvey Nichols, Harrods, Paris Gallery, Lane Crawford. Besides being available in its 3.4 oz. artist-designed superstar bottle and box presentation ($180), 1.7oz travel size ($125), Coney Island may be purchased by the ounce ($40), either in a 2-ounce basic spray flacon with gilt honeycomb cap ($25) or in unique vintage or art bottles, featured in a wide variety of designs ($60 - $200).
Bond no.9 perfumes can be ordered online at the official Bond site and at First in Fragrance/Aus liebe zum duft in Europe.


Top pic from Coney Island photoshoot on April 21 2007 by Mike on photomeetup.com
Pic of bottle comes from the advertising campaign of Bond no.9