As many sensual perfumes as you can

Perfume Shrine has long worshipped at the altar of poet C.P.Cavafy. Sometimes it is just as well that he includes fragrant references in his unique poetry.
Today I present you "Ithaca", perhaps his most famous didactic poem, recited by Sir Sean Connery with music by Vangelis and images from the film Baraka. Originally uploaded by babylonianman.

ITHACA
As you set out for Ithaca
hope that your journey is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare sensasion
touches your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope that your journey is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and learn again from those who know.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so that you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.

Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would have not set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithacas mean.

And an announcement:
October will be devoted to chypres. Stay tuned for in depth analysis of their aesthetics and for reviews.

We have a winner!!

Like I had announced on the Perfume Quizz ~before the crash down that cost me so much time in restoring things~ there was to be the recipient of a bottle of italian perfume by a niche brand as a prize.
The winner is Lea, who contacted me by email in the meantime, hitting the right spot by guessing none other than The Body Shop White Musk.
Yup! That was the one! Softly sensual, ever so lightly floral, reformulated at some point, non expensive, widely popular and related to the late Dama Annita Roddick (rest in peace)...
And the prize is musky too. Congratulations Lea!

Thanks for the participationg and stay tuned for more contests on Perfume Shrine. Many things have haunted by cupboards that seek people to love them.

Perfume in public places?

Perfume Shrine receives lots of mail by fans, lots of it with questions to pose.
One of them recently rehashed that perennial subject of what personal fragrance is suitable for public occassions in closed spaces.

Dear Helg,

I have been reading your wonderful blog for a long time and want to congratulate you on your excellent work.
I have taken the initiative to delurk and mail you with a question pertaining to something that happened to me at the movies the other day.
I went to see Zodiac with my boyfriend and as we were sitting there in the dark, munching on our popcron, the smell of something at once earthy and flowery was coming my way. You know how terrible it is when someone who wears a completely wrong scent goes at the movies and stinks up the whole place. Well, this wasn't the case. Quite the opposite!
At first I thought it was a woman and tried to locate the wearer, but soon I realised it was the man sitting on the front row at my far left who was an "arts and crafts type", probably in his 30s, accompanying a similar type of girl. I couldn't discern more in the dark.
The scent was delicious, not in the sense that you wanted to go and nibble on the person wearing it, but in that it embraced his personality. It had some element of dirt to it, although I am terrible at describing these things.
I didn't have the nerve to ask him...but it has haunted me ever since. I tried to find out what it was to no avail.

Do you have any ideas what it might have been?
I'd be ever so grateful...

Best,
Aline

To answer this type of question would leave a lot to the imagination, as the clues I have to go on are not that many. However, I could hazard the guess that we are talking about a vetiver or patchouli infused floral, from the looks of it. Even a little musk could have been involved.
Therefore I would nominate Voleur des Roses by L'artisan Parfumeur, patchouli under a rose effluvium or maybe Rose d'homme by Rosine, a rich, round rose with earth still attached on the stems.
Since he is a young man I might also mention Black XS by Paco Rabanne, although it features a sweet fruity note in there as well. This has a good chance of being the culprit though as it is more commercially available. Diesel Green might also be the one.
Another more obscure probability might be Gregory by Fresh scents by Terry that combines patchouli with ylang ylang and leather. I hope the reader does find the answer after sampling those, although I am sorry I can't be of any more assistance.
If you, dear readers, have any more ideas, please let us know in the comments.


However this issue has a flip-side as well. How utterly disgusting it is to enter a cinema theater and be bombasted by the smelly fumes of someone who has overdosed on something inappropriate...something with a monstruous sillage or something too invasive in its volume. Like -say- Angel or Giorgio (remember that one?).
Why would anyone stink up such a confined place? Or a restaurant or an elevator or any of those public places that demand a degree of restraint and noblesse. I am sure you all have horror stories of being cooped up in a car with someone who did this...

It seems to me that people who are guilty as charged do not always realise the power of their olfactory fingerprint. They aim here and there regardless of the consequences, simply repeating an atavistic process of habitual spritzing of something that has taken their aura for granted. Something that might have been quite good in moderation, something that might have even elicited compliments, had they been more discerning in application or suitability to the circumstances. The familiarity that breeds itself upon years or months of continued use might be the cause of that. In that regard there is a strong case to be made out of switching perfumes now and then, to make your nose more sensitive to nuances and volume of the notes.

Other times it is just the issue of something being too weird for public use in the first place. I can personally cite my own case with Etro's Messe de Minuit. It is a slice of apocrypha, a little sage-ladden incensy thing that trasnports me, but would I venture out with it on my person? No, I wouldn't. I wouldn't want to get people into thinking that the old manuscripts I may handle in the library have found a way into my pockets! I am not the nipping kind. And why would I want to project such an image?
On the other hand, this borders on a limitation of the defensive shoulder-pads that a personal scent might warrant to the wearer. Acting as the personal space around one that needs to be breached by those special ones that the wearer allows to.

On another occassion, many years ago, I was myself seating at the theatre, waiting to watch a play by Racine when the toxic fumes of something quite sharp, intensely medicinal and simultaneously sweet in the background reached my nostrils which quivered with apprehension. It was so potent, so pervasive that it etched itself to my memory making me hating the almondy trip of Hypnotic Poison for the longest time. It took me several samplings to discern the differences between the eau de toilette and the eau de parfum. It dawned on me that I had smelled the one, while I could like the other, after all. Hypnotic Poison was re-instated in its gourmand pantheon that merits its numerous fans. I even contemplated getting a bottle at some point; an idea that never came into fruition, although I am not rejecting the possibility in the future.

And sitting down at a restaurant about to have escargots in wine and tomato sauce, I was fumigated by Angel's wake, worn by a young woman dressed to over-kill with big hoop earrings in silver, really heavy black khol and jeans down to there. Maybe there is too much attached in the visual when judging something on its olfactory attribues; maybe the two are not easy to separate and it's an anthropological thing. I don't know, it has taken me years of observation and I still haven't come with a conclusive answer.

What I do know is that when you go in a restaurant or at the movies, please be kind and consider wearing something that won't make other people wish they never ever ventured there. Maybe go for Voleur de Roses or Black XS. Used in polite moderation. And leave people having a longing to smell you again and again...


I would be interested in your comments as to what would and wouldn't be appropriate for use in confined public spaces.

Pic sent to me by mail unaccredited.

Tale of two irises (Prada Infusion d'iris and Guerlain Iris Ganache)

Like Charles Dickens knew so well, there is some charm in correlating different things and finding respective affinities. After all one would devoutly wish for an interaction between entities in the universe; a sense of belonging, of not being cut out. Dissimilar things can resemble each other in some ways while their contrast is piquant and intriguing. Such is the case with two iris perfumes that came out recently: Iris Ganache by Guerlain, their 5th scent in the exclusive L’Art et la Matière exclsuive boutique line and Prada Infusion d'iris, a new feminine scent from the italian leather and fashion company.

Guerlain tells us that this new scent is

"Un beurre d’iris travaillé comme une ganache en pâtisserie"

which roughly translates as "iris butter worked like patissery ganache".
Ganache is a sort of chocolate cream that is thick and smooth, more solid than liquid. One would assume that we are dealing with a gourmand iris and that one would not be far off.

Iris/Orris is the rhizome of a beautiful flower, mystical, subtle and discreetly melancholic, encompassing dusty, powdery and mineral qualities. The essence of a fairy that is about to die in a puff of her delicate wings. In Iris Ganache that delicate fairy is munching meringues and feeling quite well, thank you very much. Perfumer Thierry Wasser (aided by artistic director Sylvaine Delacourte) managed to marry opposites creating something that is decidedly not as audacious as it first sounds, but rather a fluffy concoction that has a tinge of violets, quite like those sweet ones surfacing in Guerlain's more commercial scent Insolence. The feel of the violet is delectable, with a tinge of milky kid's chocolate drink, a direction that was explored in one of the limited edition versions of Oscar de la Renta's, namely Oscar Violet. There, again, the unmistakable dusting of sweetened Nesquik is painting the picture in foody terms. One might even think of the light orientalised theme of last year's Ange ou Démon by Givenchy. Suffice to say that this reminiscence does not great originality make for Iris Ganache...

The opening on bergamot and cinnamon is abstract and not as spicy as that in Musc Ravageur by F.Malle, although I am sure they were aiming for something sexy in that direction.
However, this is what makes it approachable despite the "difficult" for many note of iris. If we are to take Dickens's approach to the fore, Iris Ganache is decidedly French, representing Paris, all cafés and bistros; not Café Flore with its existential milieu of Sartre and Beauvoir, animately drawing puffs from their dark cigarettes that the French love so much. This is rather a bourgeois salon de thé, where the guests are sporting pouffy chiffon blouses that caress bodies prone to sensuality thanks to the ambery fond and the musk that embrace the white chocolate. This is the less cerebral and intellectual side of Paris as befits a house that was infamously producing scents for cocottes.

Prada Infusion d'iris on the other hand is more London-like, less indulgent, much less gourmet: all wet pavement and airy notes of a steely sky that sustain themselves on a very slight vanillic base that comes from benzoin. Poised between the crystalline opening of Iris Nobile by Aqua di Parma, a fresh breath of citrusy sensuality, and the earthy yet light depths of Olivia Giacobetti's Hiris for Hermes, Infusion d'iris is the equivalent of a metallic-hued slip of a dress over a young body that radiates intelligence and discreet sensuousness. A woman that enters an indian temple, inquisitive and with a mystical yearning. There is a smooth feel to it that caresses the soul, a nod to a thinking woman's scent, with a touch of childlike softness that reminds me of an infant's s hair washed in Johnson's Baby Shampoo. The liaison is weird no doubt and the breakdown of notes does not do it justice.

The mention of lentisque made me see that it is mastic, the very Greek resin from the island of Chios that is used for the world's only natural chewing gum, skincare products, liquors and products for medicinal use. I can't say that the aroma of mastic is instantly recognisable as such, despite my familiarity with it. However there is a greeness and woodiness that makes for a very endearing emotion; that of familiarity, of belonging, of touching the earth.

Prada claimed they got inspired by an old technique of haute parfumerie (infusion) that allowed the roots of iris to "marinate" for 6 months so as to render the true soft, fresh and powdery aroma of iris and Daniela Andrier for Givaudan succeeded in producing one of the loveliest scents of the season, even if I suspect there are synthetic aromachemicals at play. It comes in minimal light pistachio-green-labeled bottle of Eau de Parfum and it is wonderfully tenacious without ever becoming suffocating.

While Iris Ganache will appeal to those who do not go for intense, carroty irises like Iris silver Mist by Lutens, Infusion d'iris might fill the void when the mood calls for something airier than the former.

Official notes:

Iris Ganache: bergamot, cinnamon, iris butter, white chocolate, patchouli, cedar, amber, vanilla, musk, powdery notes.

Infusions d'iris: galbanum, tunisian neroli, italian mandarin, lentisque (mastic), iris, cedar, vetiver, benzoin from Laos, somalian incense


For inquiries and orders on Iris Ganache call + 33 (0)1 45 62 52 57.
Prada Infusion d'iris is available in major department stores.


Pic originally uploaded at cofe.ru

Perfume Shrine is back again!

After what seemed like an eternity and in the middle of a perfume quizz that promised a niche italian bottle prize, some malicious action was taken against the Shrine. But we, perfume shriners fear not. After consulting the oracle we came up with a solution that will allow the cult to grow.
So shortly there will be more entries and the older ones will be uploaded again for your reference.

Thank you all for your ardent emailing with concerns about the fate of the Shrine.

Last but not least, for the people who commented on the Perfume Quiz, I will post the Quizz again as the contest stands. Promises are promises after all!

Perfume Quizz: win a Perfume Shrine prize!

Perfume Quizzes are usually fun. When they present the chance to win a bottle of an italian niche perfume that none of your friends will be sporting, they are even more fun! Because not only Givenchy and Coty for Covet have the right to initiate contests, right? So in the spirit of fragrance athletics, I came up with a fun little contest of my own today inspired by something that I sniffed up on a stranger in one of my walks along the beautiful, sunset-lit pier of expensive yachts I usually frequent for my afternoon stroll. This is the first in a series of little contests that Perfume Shrine will feature for our devoted readers.
So what is the contest about? You have to guess the perfume I smelled on the stranger. I will give you clues and you have three guesses each, posted in the comments section, if you want to participate.
Here we go:It was a youngish brunette woman in her late 30s, stylishly casual in her attire, with sterling silver dainty chains on her wrists and neck, who emitted the most glorious sillage of something that appeared at once subtly floral, seductive and intimate. It smelled sexy in a subdued way, yet also fresh and lively. The fragrance itself is non expensive and widely popular, recognised by many and reportedly reformulated at some point, although on her it smelled like its glorious former self and really made an impression on me. To be extra, extra devious I will venture the hint that it also marginally has to do with something pertaining to current events.

So guess away! Solution to be posted shortly.

It’s the mating season..roar…

Remember when we talked about the new XX and XY fragrances by Hugo Boss and lamented the loss of a great commercial clip on Youtube? Well, it's here in all its roaring glory and you're the first to be privy to it. Guaranteed!



In the style of a National Geographic documentary on the mating practices of the species, as if recounting the rituals of lions in the jungle, it takes place in an art gallery with sinuous sculptures, where two major players -ever so greatly turned out stylistically- "dance" around the exhibits exuding animal magnetism and silent mating calls, displayed by their choice of perfume. Which combined creates a sensual aroma that is combastible. Hear me roar, baby!
Secondary players, such as the older male or the other female in the pack are waiting in the wings in this brilliant voice-over commercial that although very long for a TV screening is nonethless smartly conceived to play with our innermost notions of perfume as sexual attractant and silent mating call tongue in cheek style. We're hooked!!

Clip uploaded on Youtube by Hugofragrance

Cuir by Lancome: fragrance review and history

What possessed the dignified monsieur Petitjean, who had launched the Parfums Lancôme in the previous year, to christen his new leather scent Révolte? Armand Petitjean was no firebrand: a former importer of French products to Latin America, he had been a diplomat, mandated to persuade South American countries to support the Entente Powers (France, Russia, the UK) against the Central Powers (Germany, the Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman Empires) in WWI. Returning to civilian life, he worked with the “Napoleon of perfume”, the great François Coty. But he hadn’t agreed with Coty’s mass-market policy, and left the company, taking with him the head of the Coty studio, Georges Delhomme, and a chemist, Pierre Velon, to found his own luxury brand.
Lancôme was launched with great fanfare at the 1935 Brussels Universal Fair, with five fragrances, each meant to please different types of women on different continents: Tropiques, Tendres Nuits, Kypre, Bocages and Conquête. The scents bottled in baroque flacons designed by Delhomme in reaction to the spare, Art Deco trend – and in tune with fashion’s move towards femininity and away from the flapper era - were not a commercial success, and Petitjean soon branched out into skincare and makeup.
The next year saw the launch of Révolte. It might well have been a belated answer to Lanvin’s own leather scent, the provocatively named Scandale, but the social and political context in France was far from peaceful. 1936 was a bristling year in French politics. The civil war raged just south of the border, in Spain. The left-wing coalition Front Populaire has just gained power, and dedicated itself to easing the working class’ burdens, instating the 40-hour week and the first paid holidays (an event celebrated by Patou with Vacances), promoting the access of culture and sports for the masses. It was also the first government to give ministerial portfolios to women, who hadn’t yet been granted the right to vote.

The name Révolte, so unsuited to Armand Petitjean’s vision of luxury, didn’t last long. In 1939, it was changed to the less inflammatory Cuir, so as not to damage Lancôme’s trade with Latin American countries who were rather agitated at the time, but also, one would surmise, because France had just declared war on Germany and any reminder of further instability, even a fragrant one, was unwelcome. Also the connotations in the English language (“revolt” brought to mind “revolting”, not good marketing for a scent) might have influenced the decision…

Armand Petitjean was the “nose” of his house as well as its copywriter. He also taught the Lancôme recruits on the subject of perfumery. In the Editions Assouline’s book by Jacqueline Demornex, Lancôme, Petitjean’s classes are quoted thus on the subject of his teacher, François Coty:

“Coty was a builder. In front of his castle of Montbazon, he had built a terrace, which gave the same impression as his perfumes: clear, solid, magnificent. He didn’t conceive that a living room could be anything but round or elliptical. The galleries, he wanted wide. His perfumes were exactly conceived in this way.”

It is thus the great heritage of the father of modern perfumery that is carried on in the first Lancôme compositions. Cuir is a new chapter in the series of reissues that saw the release of Magie, Climat, Sikkim, Sagamore, Mille et une roses and Tropiques. Calice Becker, who also re-engineered Balmain’s Vent Vert, is responsible with Pauline Zanoni for adapting M. Petitjean’s formula for contemporary noses…

This re-issue is particularly welcome as there are very few leather scents on the non-niche market, despite a slight revival (Armani Cuir Améthyste, Guerlain Cuir Beluga, Hermès Kelly Calèche (click for review). Of the classics, only Chanel Cuir de Russie has survived, if one discounts the leather chypres, which really belong to another category – leather should be one in itself. The cult classic Lanvin Scandale, composed by Arpège author André Fraysse and discontinued in 1971, would be the template, along with Chanel’s, by which any leather should be judged. The Lanvin, Chanel and Lancôme share many notes in common:

Lanvin Scandale: neroli, bergamot, mandarin, sage, Russian leather, iris, rose, ylang-ylang, incense, civet, oakmoss ,vanilla, vetiver, benzoin.

Chanel Cuir de Russie: aldehydes, orange blossom, bergamot, mandarin, clary sage; iris, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, vetiver; styrax, leather, amber, vanilla.

Lancôme Cuir: bergamot, mandarin, saffron, Jasmine, ylang-ylang, hawthorn, patchouli, Iris, birch, styrax.

The beautiful surprise of the new Cuir is its vintage feel. It may have been domesticated and toned down from the original – a necessity, given the current inaccessibility of many of the original ingredients – but it is still true, buttery, mouth-wateringly rich leather in the style of the much-regretted Lanvin Scandale.
Bergamot and mandarin give the top notes their typically Lancôme hesperidic feel, but within seconds a creamy surge of ylang-ylang lends a sweet butteriness to the blend, underscored by the slightly medicinal accents of saffron. Jasmine and hawthorn are also listed as notes, but they never stand out as soloists. The smoky birch and balsamic-tarry styrax quickly rise to the fore, underscored by a very discreet patchouli; iris cools off the base and lends its discreetly earthy tinge.
Despite sharing several notes with the Chanel, Lancôme Cuir doesn’t display its predecessor’s crisp, structured composition, lifted by Ernest Beaux’s trademark aldehydes. Cuir sinks almost immediately into a yielding, warm, almost edible caramel-tinged leather: it is like the liquid version of a time-smoothed lambskin glove, clutching a handful of exotic blossoms. A nod to contemporary tastes is given in an unlisted, caramelized note, which tends to place Lancôme Cuir in the families of gourmand scents in the drydown. At this stage, it evokes the sinuous sheath of sun-kissed skin…
Comparisons to Scandale(discontinued in 1971) are hard to draw because of the difference in concentration (eau de parfum vs. extrait) and conservation conditions, but Cuir would seem to lean more to the side of the Lanvin in its richness and animalic elegance.
One can only hope that Lanvin will follow suit and re-launch a fairly faithful adaptation of Scandale, though its recent Rumeur(click for review), lovely but much tamer than the original, doesn’t bode well…
But there can truly never be enough leather scents to this leather lover.



Special thanks to R., the generous member of the Perfume of Life forum who sent me a large sample of Cuir; as well as to Vidabo, who shared her precise and poetic analysis on the forum and helped me shape mine.

by Denyse Beaulieu, a.k.a. carmencanada

Pic on top from educationfrance5.fr

Boss XX and XY: new perfumes, new campaign

"What exactly is human nature"? A tall order to answer that, you'd say, as anthropologists, psychologists and philosophers have tried for centuries to no avail.
Hugo Boss is trying too, I guess, launching the fragrance XY for men and XX for women, relying on a more biologically-oriented premise, that of the chromosomes. Hey, it's all in the DNA, haven't you heard?

The fragrance duo reflects the ongoing battle between the sexes creating a sensual aroma that when brought together has natural chemistry.
XY is a mix of cedrat, ice accord and muskroot, while XX contains notes of basmati rice heart, jasmine sambac and fruity top notes.

The following commercial, directed by Chris Applebaum, places Jonathan Rhys Myers and an attractive brunette model into a boxing ring to cement the notion of "battle of the sexes". Playful!
There is another commercial that is longer and more interesting -especially stylistically- combining a trio of characters without Jonathan Rhys Meyers this time, in what seems an art gallery, but it's nowhere to be found on Youtube for now, as it mysteriously vanished. Pity...

In any case, watch the clip here:


In it, there is an interview by Jonathan Rhys Meyers on a french channel, in which he says how Boss approached him and how the previous campaign was quite successful. The director insists that it is important to cement an image of the scent for the viewer and that JRM was the best choice to accomplish that. The latter also interestingly mentions how the scent actually smells better the longer it stays on the skin, which is the badge of approval for that kind of thing. Yup, we thought so too!

Pic from official Boss Fragrances campaign

Be a perfume sleuth if you really Covet that bottle!

Sarah Jessica Parker impressed us with her Lovely musky foray into fragrance as we didn't really expect a celebrity perfume to be of any considerable substance. But this was a serious perfume lover we were talking about (click here for her signature perfume mix and here, for an interview with Chandler Burr)and she passed the test with flying colours.
Now comes Covet, her new scent for women and the commercial was conceived by genius director Jean-Paul Goude, responsible for the Chanel Egoiste commercial that made it to the advertising Hall of Fame.
Set to Verdi's Forza del Destino with adorably playful french by smokey-eyed mrs. Parker as she talks to monsieur le gendarme and with red-soled Louboutin shoes that peek unmistakably under her Lacroix couture dress as she kicks to the count of the orchestra on the window of the posh boutique, this is a Paris-shot commercial that imprints itself on our mind with its strange atavistic motto "I had to have it!". Because it is so much coveted, you see.

And now Coty, the brand which is issuing Covet the fragrance for Sarah Jessica Parker have devised a new sleuthing game on who masterminded the theft of the bottle on their new site, Case of the Coveted Bottle(click on the link). The site offers free samples and a contest running till October 15th for weekly prizes. There will be extra clues given on this My Space link, where you can additionally download screensavers and wallpapers for your computer.

The Grand Prize winner will receive $10.000 and a trip for two to NYC to attend Lucky Magazine’s Lucky Shops 2007, but also a Covet gift bag encompassing a jewelry box and a deluxe mini. One First Prize winner will win a flat panel TV costing $1.200 and the Covet gift bag with the items described above. Last but not least 30 second prize winners will be receiving the Covet gift bag.
Additionally, the first person to solve one of ten weekly challenges will receive a green apple iPod Shuffle along with the Covet gift bag and the challenges will renew themselves each week. Finally two lucky winners will receive an apple iPhone and a Covet gift bag for the Bonus Challenges.

Sounds impressive! In any case good luck, those games can be addictive! I could spend hours being all monsieur Hercules Poirot on that site.

On the other hand if you want to laugh a bit with the ingenious uses of the bottle, please visit this link on Smelly Blog.

Clip uploaded by Leofour4, pics from Myspace/covetsarahjessicaparker

Winter Amber Splash by Marc Jacobs: fragrance review

It is not seldom that something is misnamed in the world of perfume. Where shall I start? Angel, that dervish of a scent that has nothing to do with seraphic affinities? Youth Dew, that quintessential in the calculated arsenal of a mature woman that depending on her guiles can be interpreted as either too good or too bad? Fragile, surely not as fragile and subtle as you might deduce...Passage d'enfer with its cool soapy tone that belies its "passage through hell" name? (for a more detailed explanation on the name click here and scroll down). It is not easy to come up with a fitting name as we discussed on another occassion (click here).

And Winter Amber in the Splash series by Marc Jacobs is another one following the tradition of misnomers, luckily. Usually it is referred to simply as Amber and it was a limited edition anyway (along with their Ivy and Violet), so it is of no consequence for the upcoming generations in this fickle world of scent; but here at Perfume Shrine we like to hold on to things that caught our fancy regardless.
Luckily, I repeat, for me, because heavy ambers destined for an arctic winter do not make themselves approachable enough or suited to my sunnier surroundings; and I have to wait for the dead of winter to bring out the really heavy guns. Or sometimes, as is the case with Ambre Sultan, not bring them out at all, as they prove to be too condensed, too impenetrable and husky for me to crack their secrets and bring them to a climax. People who can actually manage those things are probably just as well left with those options and should consider themselves blessed.

On the contrary, this lucid, diaphanous amber lends itself to still warm early autumnal weather, weaving powdery aspects and rounded effulgent clean accords, softly glowing like an old silver-mounded honey coloured fossil trapping inside it a few precious drops of spicy forest honey. Cosy and velvety, whispery, it has the same soft quality that appears in Jo Malone's Amber and Lavender, without the latter's herbaceous edge.

Official notes:
Top Notes of Crystallised Ginger & Star Anise.
Heart Notes of Amber, Lys and Cassia Bark.
Base Notes of Cashmere Wood & Benzoin

If you dream of the Eagles lyrics below, this is the amber to take you into autumn.

I like the way your sparkling earrings lay,
against your skin so brown
and I wanna sleep with you
in the desert tonight
with a billion stars all around
’cause I gotta peaceful easy feeling
and I know you won’t let me down
’cause I’m already standing on the
ground
And I found out a long time ago
what a woman can do to […]

Its only drawback? The austere ginormous bottle that will last you a lifetime. Oh well, they're meant to be used all over...
Available at Nordstorm. $65.00 for 10oz/300ml of eau de toilette spray.



Next to be reviewed:

Prada Infusion d'Iris and Iris Ganache by Guerlain along with other exciting features. Stay tuned!

Pic of bottle courtesy of Nordstorm site.

Midnight Poison by Christian Dior: the clock strikes twelve

My subtitle might remind you of a great classic Blue Oyster Cult song, Astronomy and Parfums Christian Dior might be privy to the fact that it has awesome lyrics(click the link to read) able to convey poignant images.
And so Christian Dior proceeded with yet another Poison in the illustrious line, this time named Midnight Poison.

Among perfume circles the fragrances following the original Poison are usually snubbed. Conceived by nose Edouard Flechier in 1985, encased in a flacon the colour of bruise and with a name to entice you to bite the ordoriferous yet faulty apple in the enchanted forest, the original Poison acted as a hand grenade for the nostrils of unsuspecting passerbys, who were too often anaesthetized by the penetrating aroma of this mysky, fruity and oriental concoction. A great thing, despite appearences and the only person I met who wore it well was my dear mother. Probably because she only dabbed two drops behind each ear.

The following versions, Tendre Poison from the early 90s, a greener floral highlightining freesia, and the quite recent Pure Poison with its synthetic orange blossom opening on a bed of musk are fairly tame in comparison. Hypnotic Poison by nose Annick Menardo from 1998, a tripy almondy gourmand, has -for the amove mentioned reasons- its own fans and escapes criticism relatively unscathed.

However this new Midnight Poison has the most gorgeous commercial imaginable and Perfume Shrine considers it its duty to bring those things to you.
So here it is for your delectation:




Directed by Wong Kar-Wai and featuring the wonderful actress Eva Green (Vesper in Casino Royal but also famous due to Bertolucci's film The Dreamers and Ridley Scott's Kingdom of Heaven), it is stylistically superb, if a little gothic-looking. To which Perfume Shrine is not averse to, it might be noted. Of course the hanging from the chandelier puts a playful spin on this, so I guess it is not as gothic as it could be; let's say Tim Burton on a Mars Attacks budget.
References to the Cinderella fairy tale are evident in the depiction of a gigantic Dior clock that is about to chime midnight, the heroine running to the great "palace" to be in time, as well as the shot of the black ankle lace-up boots that adorn Eva's dainty feet. And as the countdown to 12 begins, we see Eva reveal a different self; a self that is brought about by wearing the new Dior fragrance, we infer, as drops of rain -or is it moondrops bursting?- are falling over her porcelain skin and raven black hair...

The song is Space Dementia by Muse, which I am taking the chance to remind you was the group whose song was chosen for the Insolence by Guerlain commercial featuring Hillary Swank. For some reason the line "You make me sick" indeed has a weird overtone in relation to perfume, but of course the whole concept of Poison was to assert itself agressively to the one smelling it, alluding to a dangerous sexuality that is confident in its choices.

What's left is the glorious midnight blue of the couture dress, the mysterious looking bottle, the majestic surroundings and a gorgeous campaign that should be met with an equally daring aroma "like acid and oil on a madman's face".

As to the latter I divert you to this perfume review by Cognoscented.

Clip by Youtube uploaded by museabusedotcom, pics courtesy of Dior campaign

I just might have to take it back…

Remember when Perfume Shrine was the first one to report on the new Chanel ad campaign for Coco Mademoiselle featuring Keira Knightley? It was the first one to meow about it too.
Much as I hate to do it, I might have to take it back (well, only part of it, as there is no love lost between me and ms.Knightley) and eat humble pie, as I came across the videos and making of of the new campaign and I have to admit it is looking much better than expected and actually has a cool edge to it! Rather like a F.Scott Fitzerald heroine, Keira bobs her hair and dons 20s style dresses with especially cool jewels adorning her lithe physique.
Of course Chanel has always paid great attention to its commercials and it shows, but it's nice to see that they are not abandoning the tradition. Especially after letting go of Kate Moss, who to Jacques Polges was a great choice for the representation of Coco Mademoiselle. And with a surname to beat all others in the realm of fragrance to boot. But fashion isn't anything if not fickle. (You can however click here and here for great nostalgic pics of the campaign with Moss).

There are two clips in rotation with the same song, by two different artists.

The Joss Stone version



And the original Nat King Cole version



And on top of that there is this clip that features some great shots from the campaign and of the wonderful jewels, albeit scored by a completely different premise of city. Ah well...


Chanel had the good sense to set up a new site just for the occassion and I urge you to explore it. Click here for lots of fun!

And to top it all, Chanel have launched new products in the Coco Mademoiselle line, available through their official site, such as the elegant limited edition gold compact of solid perfume depicted above (120$) and a 7.5ml/0.25oz solid white flacon for the purse of pure parfum/extrait(100$).

Can't wait to see the commercials running on my TV screen. Will hold definite judgment till then.

Clips from keiraweb.com and uploaded by Knightleyfan, pics from Chanel official site and okadi.

Autumnal Shift

I'm very much afraid that the coming of autumn is given over to the Greek calendars. For those unfamiliar with this expression it is used to mean that something is never going to happen at all, as Greek calendars never existed, in contrast to the Roman ones, which did.
And what is the reason for this ominous and pessimistic declaration? But the difficulty of rotating fragrances in a fragrance wardrobe according to season in this crazy global warming environment.

The transition from summer to autumn in terms of perfume choosing is not an easy one, especially given that nowadays this is mostly an issue of calendar advancement than actual weather change. The warmth and incadescence of autumnal perfumes lends itself to cooler temperatures, "seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness" to quote Keats. And alas it's tardy. And expected to be for quite a while still in our part of the world.

Personally autumn has always been my favourite time of the year. The rush of the beginning of the academic season managed to fill me with new hope even as a student, despite the fact that it meant the end of long summer vacation. It wasn't that it was the beginning of lessons, so much as the rejoining of old friends and the aftertaste of those languid summer days spent at the beach that left skin baked and memories of blissful indolent and idle existence aplenty to last for months. Autumn was and still is the beginning of the year for me.

However, as the indian summer persists well into November nowadays, my hankering for "mists and mellow fruitfuless" is left unsatisfied. My Mitsouko and Opium get anxious to make a grand appearence from their confines, only to be met with another hot dawn that promises to melt away at the edges of reason by noon. Other perfumes are even more shy: Angelique Encens, Fumerie Turque, Rykiel Woman, Boucheron femme, Rochas Femme, Ambra del Nepal, La Myrrhe, to name but a few. They all demand sturdy fabrics, angora or cashmere sweaters and black leather boots tightly encasing jambes d'une nature farouche. Les jambes, you see....they cannot be farouche (=ferocious) in the heat of summer. They mostly drag themselves along...

And so with the onerous duty ahead of me I must get down to sorting out my autumn collection without the actual capability of wearing those tantalising siren-singing scents that beckon me. Not yet, not yet...

And you, what are you longing to bring out of the mothballs? Give us pointers!

In the meantime I am leaving you with John Keats'(1795-1821) Ode to Autumn:

627. To Autumn

SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Next reviewwill occupy itself with an amber that can actually lend itself nicely to still warm weather.


Poem courtesy of bartleby.com. Pic of grape-cutters originally uploaded by Parisbreakfast

Sarrasins by Serge Lutens: perfume review

~by guest writer Carmencanada

It is rumoured that soon Serge Lutens will relinquinsh the aromatic business and focus on his makeup line, hence the title of the review. Enjoy!


OVERTURE TO A SWANSONG

A la Nuit, launched in 2000, seemed so definitive a rendition that it was described on the Makeup Alley forum by Tania Sanchez (co-author, with Luca Turin, of a perfume guide to be published in 2008), as “death by jasmine”? It would seem as though Lutens had an afterthought about the way in which this headiest of the heady white flower notes could be treated. And why not? If it weren’t for the simultaneous release of Louve in the export line, itself a tamer reworking of the non-export 1998 Rahät Loukhoum, the issue of Lutens’s inspiration, now that his partner-in-composition Christopher Sheldrake has gone on to assist Jacques Polge at Chanel, wouldn’t be so worrisome. But, though Sheldrake is said to be pursuing his work with Lutens, there seems to be something seriously amiss in this pioneering, uncompromising, profoundly idiosyncratic house.

Sarrasins is quite a lovely scent, actually. First word on it alluded to a more saturated version of The Different Company’s Jasmin de Nuit, a spice-laced, transparent jasmine with notes of cardamom, star anise and cinnamon. And that seemed like a logical step for Lutens: to wed the soliflore to the spices he has been exploring in his recent, export-line Chypre Rouge and Rousse, as well as in the non-export Mandarine Mandarin.

But spices are never more than alluded to – the sweaty pong of cumin, perhaps, or the cold-hot burst of cardamom, clutched to death in jasmine’s cloying embrace. Sarrasins is essentially a big jasmine embellished by animalic notes – this is how the Lutens sales assistants characterize it when asked in which way it differs from A la Nuit. An extremely tantalizing, Dzing-like, dirty-salty whiff of the feline – civet, said the SA when I mentioned it – creeps out after a few minutes on the skin. Some ten minutes later, it is joined by musk, both the softer version developed in Clair de Musc and the skankier one that made the barbaric, iconic Muscs Kublaï Khan the king of the animal fragrances. But this hint of the feral never goes beyond the whiff; jasmine’s indolic leanings towards the shithouse, which should be exasperated by the claimed adjunction of a civet-like compound, are never assuaged. The big cat is shooed out by a note that could only be described as slightly petrol-like – characteristic of jasmine-saturated compositions like Joy – and that could be the “ink” note alluded to in the press release. The deep purple tint of the juice itself, perhaps a tribute to Arabic calligraphy, emphasizes the reference. But it doesn’t seem quite enough to do to jasmine what the ground-breaking Tubéreuse Criminelle did for its namesake flower: snatch the camphor-menthol notes of the tuberose absolute and push them to the fore in a jarringly seductive assault on the nose. The very knowledgeable perfume historian Octavian Sever Coifan, in his 1000 fragrances blog, states that he distinctly recognizes the same “very nice jasmine base” in Sarrasins than in other recent launches.

Granted, not all of the Lutens-Sheldrake compositions have been shockers: Fleurs de Citronnier, Clair de Musc, Santal Blanc, Daim Blond, to name a few, all conceived for the more commercial export line, are fairly tame, unlike the Palais-Royal exclusives and their flamboyant baroque style. The principle of Lutens’s most spectacular achievements was to exacerbate a note’s characteristics – the camphor in tuberose, the cold earthiness of iris, the dustiness of patchouli, the bitterness of oak, the piss-like ammonia of honey – until they nearly toppled over into ugliness. The Lutens wear you, rather than you wear them. They exist entirely on their own terms: like the mythical palace he is said to be eternally embellishing in Marrakech, and which almost no-one has seen (or had seen the last time I was in Morocco), they exude solipcistic aloofness. Olfactory exercises in the re-creation of a vanished Oriental realm, they are cruel genies in a bottle, hard to conquer – as American aficionados have long and bitterly complained of – and not rewarding to all.

Now it seems that Lutens, retreating further into the rarefied atmosphere of this realm, is unable to send his stately decrees all the way to the Palais-Royal. They reach us muffled, like afterthoughts – Gris Clair of Encens et Lavande, Louve of Rahät Loukhoum and now, in a puzzling reversal of the export/exclusive interplay, Sarrasins of A la Nuit...

Perhaps Serge Lutens feels that he has said all he had to say in his “chemical poems” (to quote Luca Turin’s beautiful expression). Perhaps the rumours are true, and he will soon conclude his masterful opus. Let’s just hope that his swansong is more definitive than the delicious, but not irreplaceable Sarrasins.

Pic of calligraphy by Iranian artist Hassan Massoudy with the caption "Don't spend two words if one is sufficient for you." (Arab proverb). It comes from perso.orange.fr