Average Person vs Perfumista

Sometimes a question is not just a question. It includes its own answer and some surplus connotations as well. How can this theory be applied to perfume discussion? Here is how: "Do you think the average person on the street would like Chanel Bois des Îles?" The thought was further elaborated: "Does our extreme focus on fragrances make us unable to be impartial judges at this point to what appeals to the masses? And finally...do we even care what the person on the street thinks as long as we like it?" This got me thinking.

For some reason, a question like that presupposes certain things:

1) that Bois des Îles is not popular anyway (OK, I am willing to believe this due to exclusivity, if not taste)
2) that Bois des Îles is therefore somehow superior (which in all truth it is...But this is besides the point, as it is getting asked, so supposedly it would be under scrutiny whether it is)
3) that the average person cannot recognise the value of a superior fragrance if they smell it
4) that the person asking is not average (notice the term "masses")
6) therefore, by process of syllogism, the person asking is superior.

Don't you think such questions are more about the questioner than the question?

The answers are just as interesting:
"I do not think Bois Des Îlesis a particularly accessible fragrance" coming from a "newbie" as she admits. Another continues the above thinking: "I don't eat what the average person on the street eats (McDonalds!) and I'm sure they don't share my taste in scent. That's fine, we can have rarefied taste..." To which there is some follow up: "Bois des Îleswas not made for the average people. I am not interested in their reactions".
And the pièce de resistance, someone asks: "Which street?" (I am laughing now with the wry humour. If it's not humour, then I don't know what to say!)

A friend with whom I discussed this replied with another question: "Why the hell would I want the average person to love it on ME?"
Because it is inferred we pick them, not the other way around. True, dear, true.

Since when our choice of perfume makes us superior? Or is this as ancient as the first cavewoman/caveman who rubbed herbs on the body and believed to be better than the neighbour next...cave-opening? I am asking you!

Pic originally uploaded on Wit of the staircase

2008 fragrance anniversaries

Several significant fragrance anniversaries are scattered through 2008: the House of Guerlain’s 180th year (to mark which a new men’s scent is in the works), L’Air du Temps’ 60th and the 30th for several other classic scents: Polo, Mûre et Musc and Azzaro pour Homme.

Personally I am very intrigued with what Guerlain might further do for the occassion: being my favourite house and with a revamped image in the last few years, sourcing through their back catalogue, I am eager for more! In the meantime, Guerlain is launching a limited edition of its best-seller for men, Habit Rouge, this spring. Named Habit de Metal , it is a collectible presented in a metallic-red lacquered flask, in a silvery package. The scent remains the same gorgeous powdery oriental. The Eau de toilette comes in 3.4 oz/100ml and retails for €70.


For the holidays of 2008, Nina Ricci will issue a prestigious collector’s edition for the powdery floral L'air du temps: a duo in “day and night” Lalique crystal. The set will comprise two bottles of extrait de parfum; one a pale, opalescent crystal, the other a shiny black. The set will be presented in a round jewel box with a black satin ribbon that will come in only 1,382 numbered sets for the entire world. The Lalique crystal extrait de parfum bottles will contain ¼ fl. oz. each and will retail at €227. {info through Osmoz}

Check back later for an opinion article.

Pic of Nina Ricci ad from the 70s courtesy of Parfums de pub

Perfumes the Guide by Turin and Sanchez: sneak preview and review

The perfume guide being written by odor guru Luca Turin with co-author and his newlywed Tania Sanchez was shrouded in mystery for some time. It has been 15 years since Turin had penned the original, now out-of-print Parfums, Le Guide in French. Since then the eruption of the Internet made English-reading audiences thirsty for his erudition, sporadically catered for through his NZZ Folio column and defunct blog. Finally this new guide is fast approaching. I received my copy in advance and I am in the position to tell you that it is a good read! Perfume Shrine is in fact the first perfume blog to post an actual review of the new Guide.

Although it claims to be “the definitive guide to the world of perfume”, I find that such a task is so monumental in its scope that it might as well be awarded the Everest-climbing seal of effort. It’s simply a Titan feat to accomplish! However, Perfumes the Guide impressed me as being a very pleasurable guide through the opacity of perfume shopping, low on the purple-o-Meter and more importantly one that does not require a former education on the subject while being scientifically elucidating.

How does the book "flow"?
Luca continues to write in his familiar vernacular (references to classical music and sports cars abound) that manages to be witty and caustic most of the time, even if one disagrees, with the admirable trait of laconic delivery. The latter should serve as a lesson to my anal-retentive habit of elaborating on any possible historical minutiae when writing myself.
Tania seems to have also benefited from her stint as editor-cum-muse, not having forgotten her Makeup Alley roots which she credits. Her writing is removed from previous exaggerations and is to the point, sometimes rivaling her prototype in acerbity and realism. They alternatively (identified by initials) take on almost 1500 fragrances -per the book jacket- circulating in department stores, drugstores and niche boutiques today. Something at every price point. The system is easy and relies on a 5 star point scale (from 1 for awful to 5 for masterpiece) ~which is to be expected in any product qualitatively measured these days. Wine appreciation guides as well as cinephile sites have contributed to this system becoming increasingly common. It will do.

The structure of the book is divided into uneven parts:

1. The brief introduction by TS focuses on how perfume is part of culture and criticism is inherent in any art form ~ergo in perfume as well, and everyone should get used to it
2. Essay on how to choose fragrances for oneself and for the occassion
3. Essay on why would men want to wear scent and categories of masculine fragrances with impromptu, fun names like "Lawrence of Arabia" for orientals
4. A brief introduction to the history of modern perfumes' emergence, which to LT is inextricably tied to the rise in synthetics. Somehow like a brick off his previous book but informative.
5. Some answers to frequently asked elementary questions, one of which is the perennial “skin chemistry” affecting fragrances (the short answer is "not really")
6. The reviews, which take the huge bulk of the book in easy to follow alphabetical order
7. A very brief glossary of terms
8. Top ten lists in the categories of: best feminines, best masculines, best cross-gender choices, best picks from floral, chypre and oriental families and the innovatively intelligent best quiet and best loud fragrances; as an epilogue an index by star-rating of all the fragrances reviewed.

What I enjoyed:

~The to-the-point monikers beside the perfumes, instead of general classifications which usually prove so pointless to the reader. Instead the two-word descriptors are uncunningly accurate most of the time. Those range from the merely descriptive (“rasberry vanilla” for Armani Diamonds) to the outright dismissive (“nasty floral” for Bright Crystal by Versace or “fruity death” for Nanette Lepore), through the poetically inclined (“angry rose” for Malle’s Une Rose or “snowy floral” for Pleasures) and the iconically untouchables (“reference vetiver” for Guerlain’s).
I had much fun with the “not X” and “not Y” descriptors besides perfumes which are actually named X or Y something. It is so true, it’s hilarious! It’s refreshing to see that Lauder's Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia gets the “true gardenia” descriptor, because hey, it does smell like it and making it into the best florals category.

~That no perfume is spared based on its former laurels. This is a personal pet peeve of mine, I admit, when reading perfume criticism online; especially on perfume blogs and fora. Too often the illustrious reputation and history of a fragrance earn it a state of grace that is completely undeserved in its present formulation. To their credit, LT and TS dismember each and every one of those old beauties and see just how successful the facelift was: Are there any visible scars? Forehead immovable? Eyes not going beyond the perpetually surprised? Oh, it’s breathing and smiling again, there’s a dear! Or is it terminally confined to Joan-Rivers-land? It’s a great misfortune that the majority belongs to the latter category. Caron fans are in for a bumby landing!

~That two indie perfumers (and people who are trully sweet) received accolades for their work in this tome: Andy Tauer, mainly for his superb L’air du desert marocain (which earned the masterpiece 5-star award, with honorable mentions for Le Maroc, Rêverie and Lonestar Memories). And Vero Kern whose Onda, Kiki and Rubj received each 4 stars. For someone who is mentioned as coming initially from aromatherapy (a no-no obviously in LT’s books), this is not just high praise, it’s being toured round Zeus for the first time ever. Bravo Vero!

~That Luca Turin has relaxed his stance against perfumes that use only natural essences and included creations by Dominique Dubrana, who will be featured on these pages soon. A small step for one man; a huge step for a whole artistic movement.

What I did not like as much:

~The impression that fragrances created by friend perfumers are seemingly described in more raptured tones. The fact that some of those perfumers are actually mentioned as friends leaves a little bit of hesitancy to the reader in ingesting the opinion proferred. Not that I doubt the best possible intentions, mind you.

~The idolatry surrounding most of Sophia Grojsman’s scents down to 100% Love (formely known as the artwork named S-Love). Do I read her referred to as trismegista? I can’t explain why. I trust it does not fall under the previous category. The comparable disparagement of Jean Claude Ellena’s and Olivia Giacobetti's aesthetic with sporadic exceptions.
Celebrity deathmatch indeed of two diametrically antithetical worlds.

~In fact there is a tendency of formed opinion regarding brands more than individual perfumes (By Killian is "good" while Le Labo is "bad", although to me they seem to be equally poseurs). I might attribute that to opinion on the concept of a line, however.

~The glossary provided is very poor in a guide that purpots to be “the definitive” one. Perhaps they meant it as a help through the lingo used throughout the reviews. For the perfume enthusiast it is formulaic and not offering anything new.


In essence (pun intended), Perfumes The Guide is not going the exposé route that Chandler Burr did with his The Perfect Scent and therefore perfume lovers will not find out as many revelations either, but it is an absorbing, very entertaining read that will be referenced from now on on every possible online venue. Rookies especially will have a field day with the latter activity (bound to grate on the nerves of the rest of us). More seasoned perfumephiles can disagree from time to time... Oh and Luca, please drop the Keen fishing sandals over socks.

Perfumes the Guide is officially coming out on April 10. You can preorder it clicking Perfumes: The Guide

Pic of book jacket courtesy of Amazon, pic of LT and TS courtesy of the perfume pilgrim. Pic from the Terry Gilliam 1985 film Brazil courtesy of filmforum.org

What the Flu Taught Me

~You never know how important your nose is until you lose its contribution to your everyday existence. This bout of the flu began with a scratchy throat and some fever. It progressed into a congestion to end all congestions that made the head weight a ton and made every food taste like cardboard. Yeah, flavour really is a combination of taste buds and smell perception. Try it: pinch your nose and eat a slice of apple and then a slice of potato. Told you...

~Taking a really hot bath is not to be underestimated in any season: there is nary an ailment it doesn't alleviate to some degree. Using some Perlier Honey Bath with Royal Gelee makes it an indulgence with its creamy, sudsy, pampering lather and the 1L bottle makes a statement in the bathroom. They also do a killer Almond bath cream for people who like that sort of thing, although my personal favourite of the scented varieties is the Vetiver.

~I have been using A Perfect Wold white-tea antioxidant serum by Origins for the flakies around the nose these past few days and it worked well (The fact that it contains some silicone helped). This is a product that actually smells very good, exactly because of the cornucopia of natural essences in high percentages included (such as rosa damascena flower water, bitter orange flower water, spearmint leaf oil , vetiver root oil, plumeria extract and frankincense). Of course my congested nose didn't perceive any of the smell or lack thereof at that point, but I did know it from before. It's something one might keep a supply of at home for such cases. I hear they are giving a free one-week supply of the new Dr. Andrew Weil Plantidote Mega Mushroom Treatment Lotion with any $25 purchase (free shipping included till Mar30), so now is the time I guess.

~Last but not least: it is essential for emergencies like this to know what fragrance to fall upon, for the sake of others in your entourage, if not for yourself. After the first couple of days I couldn't really smell much, so it was more of a mechanical than gratifying act, but Kelly Calèche by Hermès ensured that at least I smelled pretty and not offensively loud (it's so easy to overapply when one's nose is semi-working) to visiting doctors and family.

May you never need the tips!


Pic from the Perlier site

Check back later for A SURPRISE! Something that will be the talk of the town makes an appearence on Perfume Shrine first!

Scents the Wind Got: a Joint Project from 2 sides of the World

We were having a discussion with Gaia, the Non-Blonde, the other day, about one of our common passions: cinema. And one of the epics that marked it has been Gone with the Wind, the adaptation of the Margaret Mitchell novel which spans almost two decades surrounding the American Civil War. Both being fans of the novel, as well as of the 1939 film, we got the idea to tackle it in olfactory terms: after all it is so rich in the smell of nostalgia, of a past long gone, of youth misspent and maturity gained with hardship. It was bound to appeal to our sensibilities.

I recall when as a very young teenager I got the two thick, heavy volumes of the novel. It was a stark difference from all the heavies I had been immersing myself to read as a nerd trying to "complete" her education on classics: Dostoevsky, Camus, Joyce, Satre and all those good people. Nerds do leaf through Cosmopolitan as well though ~I am living proof of it!~ and it was on its spread with curly-tressed Andie MacDowell in which a lazy summer reading suggestion included "Gone with the Wind". Southern Belles always held a fascinating appeal to my European soul: they were warm, hospitable, giving yet stealthy and reminded me very much of the women of my own culture. Scarlett promised to be the "bad", naughty girl anyone was dreaming of emulating. Watching Vivien Leigh impersonate her was the final straw: she was a vision in that dark burgundy dress at Ashley's party, referencing the Scarlet woman...I sincerely developed a girl-crush!

The title is taken from the 1st line of the 3rd stanza of the Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynaraepoem by Ernest Dowson:

"I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind."

And indeed the novel and film speak of times gone by and with them the innocent aroma of carefree youth. It was also intriguing that there was an undercurrent of dubious sociological belief in designated tasks for certain classes and certain people in antebellum South, to which my idealistic youth protested against. Men and women of colour were treated in a weird way throughout the novel: on the one hand to be trusted and confided to in an endearing way (Mammy was such an adorable character!), on the other it seemed like there was the implied idea that their place was specific (slavery) and it should have remained so for the sake of the good old days! "How stupid Negroes were! They never thought of anything unless they were told." Scarlett said at one point. The duality found me awashed with emotion and intellectual turmoil.

Through the pages there are so many smells that reminded me of languid springs and summers of a sub-tropical nature: The lush magnolia trees whose petals were white, soft and waxy like the porcelain skin of Scarlett. The Twelves Oaks plantation of Ashley Wilkes (such an imposing name for one!). The sweet yams and sweet potatoes prepared by Mammy, Scarlett's nanny. The preparations for the spring barbecue under the trees and the rest of the girls before the ball: I seem to recall there was a description of the smell of the room as being scented with powder and young girly flesh. The Peach Tree street in Atlanta where the protagonists were forced to move when they left the plantation in Tara. Scarlett gurgling with Cologne to hide her drinking from Rhett Butler, the debonair scoundrel who proves he has a heart of gold after all and most of all for Scarlett and the daughter they will have later on. And of course the gunpowder and the smell of the sick-room when war strikes in Atlanta as well and they have to return to a derelict Tara. The odour of death, the odour of famine and destruction, the tobacco pipe aroma of Scarlett's not-all-there father as they return, the smell of the slow realization that the pampered life they knew is there no more... Oh, yes, it is full of all those things.



And then there is the wonderful movie-buff trivia of Clark Gable wanting to irritate Vivien Leigh (because she got the part that was to go to Carole Lombard) by eating raw onions before every kissing scene they shared. Not to mention his being a heavy smoker. But then Vivien reputedly smoked four packets a day during the entire shoot! Naughty boy Clark surprised Hattie McDaniel (Mammy) as well when he poured her real alcohol instead of the usual tea while filming the rejoice scene after the birth of Bonnie!

As the characters evolve I imagine their scent choices would as well. It's not something that is referenced in the book, merely a fancy of my fevered imagination.

Melanie and Ashley both resonate with a quiet dignity, characters that are not prone to externalize their feelings with as much demonstration. Their natural class and insistence in impracticality is their adherence to the old ways of life.
Melanie Wilkes is such a true lady, revered for her kindness as well as her loyalty, that I cannot help seeing her in something other than a classic cologne in the English tradition: the scent of Bluebell by Penhaligon's or Lily of the Valley by Floris can be the perfect background to her restrained, yet majestic stance throughout the plot.
Ashley Wilkes could also be the embodiment of monogrammed slippers, with a scent choice to match. While vintage Creed Tabarome would be great for Scarlett's Irish father, Gerald, it's Ashley whom I see in the pristine Green Irish Tweed. It only serves to pronounce everything that is aloof, slightly shy and introvert about him. A fragrance like an armour of respectability. And yet there are traits of turbulent emotion there, which reveal themselves when he is forced to earn a living in Tara or under Scarlett's employment: his broken pride would be echoed by something as deep yet poignant asEquipage.

Rhett is such a cocky fellow it's hard to peg him: his debauchery and encounters with prostitutes with a heart of gold like Belle Watling make one think that he would go for something boozy with a devil-may-care air: Idole de Lubin would suit him. Or for his sexy, intense side L'instant pour Homme could be a wonderful choice to get Scarlett's and all the ladies' pants on fire! I would love to think that along with the ruffly petticoat he gifted her with, he gave cologne to Mammy as well: sweet orange blossoms or lilies for her endearing nature would be what would warm her heart.
And what would Belle Watling actually wear herself? Probably a rich white floral to leave a trail behind: her hair was obviously painted, the ladies gossiped, and she wore rouge. If Carolina Herrera existed back then I could see her swamped in its exotica.

Scarlett intrigues with her numerous facets. I would have loved to designate her Keiko Mecheri's Scarlett, if only because of the name: "dramatic dance of lively spices" is not a bad description of her character either, but it is not meant to be. To me, Scarlett begins her adventures as a girl full of feminine guiles, full of the scents of her paternal home: the rich magnolias, the mimosa, the comfort of the embrace of her beloved mother whom she loses so early. L'artisan's Mimosa pour Moi has the bright sunny disposition she displays at the start of the story, warm, milky and sweet with just a little headstrong strain underneath.
As she becomes the disillusioned widow for the first time, crying face down for her spent youth and the loss of her childhood dreams, I still imagine her smelling of a creamy magnolia, like Magnolia Dolce by I Profumi di Firenze or Magnolia Pourpre by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier: only her demeanour wouldn't be as gay. As plans to take over Tara engulf her and she is desperate to succeed as a business woman, her smell would be stricter, more controlled, more abstract. I think that an old-fashioned mossy affair such as Ma Griffe means business, yet still smells like a young lady. And finally when she become Mrs.Rhett Butler with a desire to show off her nouveau-wealth replete with jeweled baubles she would opt for an entrance-making scent, more famous for its price tag than its intrinsic value such as Clive Christian: the costliest money can buy, so people can eat their hearts out!
What scent would adorn her repentant visage as she cries in the final scene is any one's guess. That mix of irrational optimism and hearty abandon is a rare cinematic gem to be treasured and I would love to hear your opinions on this one.


Be sure to check out The Non-Blonde for her take on Gone with the Wind scent associations.

Pic of Vivien Leigh with her straw hat originally uploaded on POL. Pic of Clark Gable from yahoo.movies. Pics of Leslie Howard and Olivia de Havilland through Wikimedia Commons. Clip originally uploaded by iluvsoaps on Youtube.

The Essence of Woman?

I consider myself rather cynical at times, although idealism is not lacking in my psyche. But coming from an old civilization who has gone through just about anything on god's green earth, I thought I had seen it and heard it all; at least by osmosis, through tales of elders. How wrong was I! Apparently in the perfumery stakes I am but a mere novice who has not really thought of the potential of raw animal power in concentrated form!

The first time this new perfume came to my ears I thought it was a spoof. The second mention rang bells of pseudo-intellectualism. I hadn't hit the links to see that it is an actual product for sale. Perfume Shrine in its eternal quest for pure journalism had to investigate.
I soon found out others had similar reactions to mine. And people on the street had even more spontaneous reactions.
The perversely fascinating concept is hiding on this site. Enter at your own peril! Tom Ford has nothing on this one!
The fact that the company is based in Cologne, the town of the famous Eau de Cologne which gave its name to the whole bunch of aromatics is just proof that God does have a sense of humour after all...

Pic courtesy of Athinorama. No real animals were harmed during this photoshoot.

Spoil the Perfume?

The New York Post has a very intriguing snippet regarding perfume use, containing two quotes from people famous for their perfume lines: Chanel and Guerlain.
Coco Chanel once said that "it was the height of arrogance for a woman to think that she smelled good enough to go out without perfume", while Jean Paul Guerlain has been known to say "you can put all the perfume you want on a smelly beggar but it will not conceal his odor and it will also spoil the perfume."

Excuse me, are we on serious mode now?
Because I find nothing wrong with a clean woman's scent which doesn't need adornment if she and her partner do not wish to go that route. But that wouldn't help the perfume business along, would it? I guess it is the same thing as with makeup: we have been so much conditioned to believe that a naked face is so shockingly nude that we feel the masochistic need to plaster on various unguents in a futile attempt to conform to someone else's standards. And this is no mere feministic parlance, because The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolfis rather old news by now (although still quite true!). It's nice to play charades and reveal facets of oneself through the use of artificial means, but let's admit it as such: a game; not a necessity!

And considering the poor beggar: what cruel soul would offer perfume in lieu of a decent bath and clean clothes? Makes you think of American Psychosomehow...
Is it certain we're not in Pygmalion-mode? I was a bit flustered there for a second, not sure if Eliza Doolitlehad been offered perfume in that attempt to conceal her humble origins, posing as to the manor born. And on top of that the audacity of spoiling a perfectly good perfume by putting it on a low-class amoebidae form of life...Mon Dieu! The nerve!

Pic courtesy of Athinorama, with apologies to the -I am sure- innocent bearded man who is certainly not a beggar. But it might look like one to Jean Paul.

Secrets of the Trade

There is a well-kept secret in the fragrance industry: A secret Perfume Shrine has been privy to, but not sworn to secrecy and if she doesn't reveal sources, all is well. So, my sweeties, today I will reveal it to you!
Yes, yes, I know you will cast unbelieving and imploring puppy eyes to the Shrine and ultimately want to say "Nah...Helg is having a bitchy day, that's all!". But no, I swear to you that this comes from inside info and is very credible.

We have talked time and again how it is my personal opinion based on several little factoids from observation and discussions that people when judging a fragrance rely as much on their eyes as they do on their noses, if not more. What I mean: there is the undeniable brand recognition which even though is often pooh-poohed, it usually does feature right there in the factors that contribute in making a decision to even sample a fragrance in the first place. The latest discussion I initiated on Perfume of Life on this produced interesting results. It sounds like a trusted house, a brand which produces perfumes that are simpatico to one's sensibilities or which has a interesting reputation is more likely to get customers to sample their other products as well. Of course this is not exactly inventing the wheel: it applies in so many other markets as well. But it is especially applicable in perfumery, it seems. If one consolidates a brand well enough, then customer interest will be forever piqued. This is what happened with Serge Lutens and his olfactory seraglio of lovelies. Even the less lovelies are not wont for desire to sample. Every new Serge is a thirst to be quenched! The same applies to Chanel. And in so many more ways than one.

Coco Chanel herself had the wonderful knack of knowing how to provide what women wanted, yet did not know they wanted it just yet. This is a quality that marks the successful enterpreneur from the unsuccessful one and it is -completely coincidentally I am sure- the secret of the marketability of Tom Ford and everything he touches (ewww).
But to revert to Chanel. The brand has a solid, unshakable seal of approval. It's the Homeric καλος κιαγαθος (=beautiful and virtuous): no woman -or man, for that matter- who wears Chanel could be accused of commiting a serious faux pas in the eyes of good taste. It's the brand with the highest visibility of all luxury brands, the one which most people recognise at a glance, the one who has safe-guarded its pedigree best of all and the one who has been faked most; which only serves to prove that people desire it desperately.
Chanel No.5 is so iconic that it has stayed in the top 5 of perfume bestsellers in France for years (to be slightly nudged off its pedestral by Angel in recent years) and it features among the top 10 or at least top 15 in almost every market it is available. It is this which has earned No.5 the moniker le monstre (=the monster; against which everything is compared to in terms of sales), because of its immense marketability. The thing practically sells itself.
And yet (and here is the catch), when participating in blind tests, the fragrance does especially poor! This is something that has been discussed in the corridors of Firmenich, Givaudan, International Flavors and Fragrances and the rest of those hidden pillars of capitalism for some time now. But the average customer does not frequent those places, ergo he/she is unaware of those facts. What is left is hearsay and their own nose. And so often the former is commenting deafeningly louder than the subleties of the latter.

And yet there are people who object with their nose more than their eyes. You might call it whatever you like, but it's there, it's tangible and it's a share of the market that is breathing and kicking and yielding bucks in the pocket. So not to be patronised. I came across this fascinating recount:

"i'll eventually figure out the note in perfumes like that, but right now i'm calling it "french". there are fragrances that smell french to me, it's a sharp powdery/sweet note that makes me think of grannies. maybe when i'm a granny i'll decide to smell like that.

i've tried chanel 5 on me so many times, always hoping for a different result. even in the dry down, i hate it. and i hear these young celebrities bragging about wearing it, and i think, "there's no way you actually like how that smells. you're wearing it for the name". it's been one of the most popular fragrances since it's release and i can't figure out why".

~from If Only it Were Fiction blog

Don't get me wrong: I like Chanel No.5. In fact I own some and have been enjoying it for years. It was first given to me at the tender age of 14: "every girl should try out Chanel No.5" the fairy-godmother told me. I even keep some in extrait de parfum form. But is it the be all and end all of fragrances? Probably not.

I thought you might want to be privy to this secret as well. Let's call it our secret handshake ;-)

Eddie: Sweetie, what are you drinking?
Patsy: Oh this? Chanel No. 5.

~from Absolutely Fabulous

Pic from Chanel 2001-2002 campaign courtesy of Elegant Lifestyle

The perfect drug?

Under the weather with the flu (which seems to strike at the Ides of March!). So, a little open poll for you in accompaniment to one of my most favourite clips.

Which scent would you choose as a background for this?




I simply love everything about it: So Beaudelairesque!

Clip of The Perfect Drugby Nine Inch Nails, from the soundtrack of Lost Highway

Scent your Home for Spring

How can one do without friends? Fragrant friends are especially wonderful, if only because they introduce you to delights of the senses that forever tie their memory with the feelings thus provoked. One of those friends sent me some Jacques Garcia Gold. And the elation of sniffing recalled the wonderful traits of this lovely lady who has been spoiling me rotten!

Jacques Garcia Gold is an orange blossom scent: it was therefore natural that it would attract the attention of Perfume Shrine which has so much elaborated on orange blossom in the past. {click the link for our series}
Jacques Garcia is, amongst many famous international places, the interior designer of Hôtel Costes in Paris, La Mamounia in Marrackech, La Reserve in Geneva, Casino de Montreux in Switzerland, L'Avenue Restaurant in Paris, Jean-Georges in NYC and Hotel Victor in South Beach...
Jacques Garcia had the lovely idea of launching a line of home fragrances in room spray and candle form to scent all those sumptuous interiors and to do that he collaborated with Rami Mekdachi. The latter is a true sorcerer of scent who actively sought to create "perfume for modern temples". His diverse portfolio of artistic direction encompases the opulent brocades of the Hôtel Costes scents, the leathery smoothness of the exclusive fragrance for the infamous dancing venue VIP Room, as well as in the eponymous fragrance for the famous Colette boutique and Pierre Frapin Cognac. Not to forget ’Scent Lab’, the fragrance forecast bible for the cognoscenti.

With a background of marketing at a major cosmetics company as well as being a musician, Rami Mekdachi found the perfect fusion of art and business in the world of perfumery: "Music has the ability to bring you to a certain period of your life, to remind you of special moments. The same can be said of perfume, and yet, the effect of scent is even more powerful, because it acts on the subconsious level and opens the mind to a whole new arena of emotions".
All this with a nod to the ancient tradition of scent being a means to transport one to a different mood upon entering a sacred place. Very simpatico with Perfume Shrine's philosophy!

The nose chosen by Mekdachi to recreate these feelings in the Jacques Garcia line of ambience scents was the great Pierre Bourdon: the nose behind such elegant compositions of light cyclamen as Iris Poudre,the ethereal chiffon of Ferré by Ferré, as well as enduring bestsellers like Cool Water for men.

Gold is the freshest whiff of orange blossoms swaying in the spring breeze, bringing promises of happiness and insouciance, the glimpse of sunny days ahead and destinations in the Mediterranean where groves full of bitter orange trees look like white fairies in the wind.
The smell is simple, yet heavenly, as it engulfs you in its initial hesperidic freshness making the nostrils smile with pleasure. In a minute the blossom is there, true, honeyed and realistic as if a citrus aurantia tree is growing its branches beneath your windows, with the scent of wood as an afterthought. I have been known to put this on skin, as a personal scent, to uplift the spirits.
The bottle is one of the most decadent ones I have ever seen for a room fragrance, yielding itself to the frou-frou look of a boudoir atomiser in midnight blue with a tassel in silk thread and gold filigree design on the front. The candle is a comparable affair of indulgent decoration that will bring a touch of glamour to any coffee table. They're perfectly transporting!

The candle comes in 6.7oz, while the room spray comes in a 3.4oz bottle. Available at Aedes.
The line also includes Silver, a tuberose scent and Bronze, a scent based on myrrh. I can't wait to try those out as well.


So, what will you use to scent your home this spring?

Pics courtesy of Aedes

Launch of new products by Ayala Moriel

The first real day of Spring is bringing new aromas in the breeze... We received news of new launches that promise a touch of green:

Ayala Moriel Parfums is pleased to announce the release of Gaucho on March 21st a new perfume and tea based on the esteemed yerbamate of South America. Gaucho perfume was in the making for 6 years and has now finally reached its destination.

Gaucho perfume is named for the South American cowboys of the Pampas and an homage for a song by this name by Steely Dan. Coumarin is the soul of Gaucho from the bitter yerbamate to that sweetness of hay and rosemary and the alluring deertongue (liatrix). Bergamot and galbanum add sparkling greenery and Africa stone tincture adds a raw, animalistic-leathery undertones.

Top notes: Bergamot, Neroli, Galbanum, Absinthe

Heart notes: Seville Lavender, Broom, Rosemary Absolute, Guiacwood, Jasmine Auriculatum

Base notes: Matι, Africa Stone Tincture, Angelica, Deertongue

Fragrance Family: Ambery Herbaceous Fougere

But there's more! There is also a flavoured tea that is perfumed with a scent similar to that of Gaucho fragrance, a practice that was introduced by Ayala last winter with her Immortelle L'amour and the accompanying tea.

Gaucho Perfumed Tea by Dawna Ehman
Fresh herbaceous notes of lemongrass and rosemary highlight bitter green yerba mate and sencha tea leaf to capture the Fougere-like essence of 'sparkling greenery' that is Gaucho. Damiana leaf, spearmint and the true coumarin quality of red clover blossom soften the aromatic finish and taste profile of this beguiling tea.

Gaucho perfumed tea is the perfect balance of spring color and flavor- and in being so, gently and safely stimulates the very activities that support spring's expansive, rising qualities within us. When sweetened with a slight amount of raw sugar or green stevia, Gaucho tea balances the stimulating energetic actions of spring in a form that is unique in quality and pleasure.

Its ingredients, sourced throughout the world are 100% Certified Organic.

Perfume Shrine will return with reviews of Gaucho and the new gardenia soliflore by Ayala Moriel, Gigi. Stay tuned!

Check back later today for another, surprise post!

Pic provided by Ayala Moriel Parfums

Travel Memoirs: Istanbul part3

Desserts in Turkey take on many aromatic guises in their war-like mission to ruin one's waistline and walking through the marketplace one faces its own portable amunition.
One of the most famous, referenced even in The Chronicles of Narnia, is Turkish Delight: lokum or loukoum. Contrary to what one might be led to believe from homonymous perfumes circulating, such as Rahat Loukoum by Lutens and Loukhoum by Keiko Mecheri, the traditional jelly-like delicasy, lightly dusted so as not to stick, isn't made with almond nor cherry. Instead lokoum is made from starch and sugar and aromatized with rose water and lemon, giving it a refreshing flavour, justifying the Arab name rahat al-hulkum (=contentment of the throat). Varieties might include little cubes with other nuts such as pistachios or walnuts and some types even have a touch of cinnamon or mint aroma.

Another olfactory delight is Salep, a traditional winter drink sold by street vendors in big copper caldrons. Salep is produced by grinding the dried tubers of Orchis mascula, Orchis militaris and related species of orchids, which contain a starch-like polysaccharide, bassorin, with nutritional and heartening properties. It has a reputation of being an aphrodisiac (which might be accounted by the etymology of its plant source, relating it to the Greek word for testicle!). It is milky, flavoured with rosewater or mastic and dusted with cinnamon or nutmeg, to be optionally sprinkled with crushed walnuts on top. Salep enters along with mastic into the traditional Turkish ice-cream, Dondurma, which is much stickier and resistant to melting than regular ice-cream or gelato.

A perfume that has being inspired by this drink is Ayala Moriel's Sahleb. A wonderful comforting fragrance with a starchy pudding quality about it, it gives you the cosy feeling of sipping a dessert rich in buttery creaminess with the aromatic tinge of mastic that recalls the Mediterranean. There is no floral clearly discernible, yet if one leans one's head and inhales deeply, there comes the subtle nuance of the traditional rosy loukoums of the Bazaar, down to the dusty, powdery feel of coconutty copra enrobing them. Vanillic goodness in restrained doses compliments the fluffy and nutty flavour of this softest of gourmands. It makes me nostalgize of the true salep on the streets of Istanbul. Sadly the true thing is forbidden to be exported. But how lucky are we that there is a fix in the form of a fragrance!

After all this indulgence, one needs to come to terms with one's body. When in Rome do as the Romans do. In this Nova Roma, who could deny a Turkish bath? Cagaloglu Hamami is one of the most famous hammams in the city, constructed in 1741 to bring revenue to the library of Sultan Mahmut I, situated inside the Haghia Sophia mosque. It receives both men (from the main street entrace, on Hilal-I Ahmer) and women (from the side street entrance).
Stepping into the various cubicles and rooms with terlik (a kind of slippers) on the feet and a pestemal (clothing wrap), one can see a raised platform of stone (goebektas) in the center, with bathing alcoves all around, in coloured quartz tiles which remove static and help unwind, by sweating and sustaining an internal dialogue. A sight to behold is the pool in the middle of the camegah with its waterjet.
The light is softly filtered through glass from the ceiling in the hot room (Hararet), with small star-like windows on the domes. The air is fragrant with the essences of various unguents and the mind is dizzied into a reverie. The exfoliation with kese is blissful, using lavender, tea, chamomile and olive oil soap. One can bring their own products and Harvey Nichols at 185 Kanyon Alýþveriþ Merkezi provides a rich selection, among which the organic Jo Wood line (by the wife of Ronnie of the Rolling Stones). Amka Bath Oil contains Persian rose Otto, feminine Egyptian jasmine, along with neroli and bergamot for their uplifting effect. Mmmmm...
Next one can require a relaxing massage to recuperate and energise the muscles, which is followed with hair washing and a cold shower, before drinking dark tea, aromatic and dense, at the old marble café-bar. One could get really spoiled in this place!

And yet in the strange, lucid melancholy of such an abode, I cannot help but wonder how many women or men with tragic love tales, unfulfilled desires and bittersweet memories have passed from here through the years, sighing and opening their souls to one another as mussels do when steamed.

Like this most touching tale: A Touch of Spice(Politiki Kouzina). A young Greek boy (Fanis) grows up in Istanbul, whose grandfather, a culinary philosopher and mentor,teaches him that both food and life require a little salt to give them flavor; they both require... a Touch of Spice. Fanis and his parents leave Istnabul during the 1963 deportation of Greeks. He grows up to become an astronomer and an excellent cook using his cooking skills to spice up the lives of those around him. 35 years later he leaves Athens and travels back to his birthplace of Istanbul to reunite with his grandfather and his childhood love, the Turkish girl Saïme, now married with a daughter; he travels back only to realize that he forgot to put a little bit of spice in his own life...



The song (Baharat, tarçın ve buse) translates as:

"That night you left me
you went with a pinch of spice
a shadow inside the marketplace
I laid salt on the streets of Beyoglu
to find you in the hideouts

A kiss of cinnamon and spice,
recipe hidden in the attic
Moonlight and the Bosphorus lonely
That lighthouse is our childhood love"

On that bittersweet note, we will leave the enchanting Istanbul behind...
But Travel Memoirs will take you to another fascinating destination soon.

Loukoums through Fotosearch. Painting In the Trepidarium by Sir Lawrence Alma Tadema (c.1903), originally uploaded on Mary's blog. Clip from the film Politiki Kouzina/A touch of Spice from Youtube, uploaded by JasonSeaman1

Travel Memoirs: Istanbul, part2

Much of the olfactory enjoyment when in Istanbul comes from the culinary exploration of dishes that delight all the senses and make one abandon all expectations of following a diet regime in a flash. It is no accident that the Turkish refer to Culinary Arts when talking about food. The abundance and diversity owing to the rich flora and fauna of the area provide rich culinary escapades for an inquisitive gourmet palate. Babette's Feast with an oriental twist!
And so often food and drink is accompanied by oryantal dancing* to excite the senses even more: One feels like James Bond.



With a nomadic origin back to the first millenium in Central Asia, the Turkish repertoire has been influenced by the Arab, Persian, Greek /Byzantine, Seljuk and French traditions, as well as the Imperial Kitchen of the Ottomans, adding colourful spices and refined techniques. The little balls of delight that are içli kofte with their outer shell of bulgur and minced meat and their filling of pine nuts and spicy minced meat are inducement to a glimpse of heaven. They are chased away with tangy turnip juice. In Imam Bayildi bittersweet aubergines in onion and tomato sauce are sweetly melting into the tava (pan). The name literally means 'the Imam fainted', presumambly with pleasure. My favorite and one I recreate at home is Manti, home-made ravioli-like bites stuffed with minced meat with a yoghurt sauce on top.

Cumin and turmeric are especially prized and used in meat preparations which are roasted (kebap), stewed (yahni) and grilled (külbastı). Their acrid, sweaty flavour enhances the oiliness of onion-marinated meat, accompanying donerli rice pilafs in earthen pots topped with bright sauces to be enjoyed with your commensall. The background of those spices recalls the Arabic tradition of the souk echoed in the Serge Lutens perfumes and indeed this is the place to comprehend their intricasy best. Everything mingles nicely in this melting pot of civilizations: their Iskender Kebab is named after the Persian name for Alexander the Great!

When the weather is warm and the bitter orange trees in Balat are in bloom one can catch whiffs of their honeyed goodness intemingled with the sweet smells of the bakeries meters away. To the East, along the Golden Horn, brings you to Eminonu and the Spice (Egyptian) Bazaar, both old trading districts dating to Byzantium and the Spice Road. The pungent, rich smell leads you by the nose across the stalls of the sellers. Each one in its own heap of bright vermillon, deep mustard and brownish golden, they invite you to lean and take a deep breath with the desire to immerse your hands into the expensive, little red stigmata, yellow-green leaves of lemongrass and brown seeds. I find myself trying to mentally decipher the composition of Safran Troublant, a fragrance by L’artisan Parfumeur composed by Olivia Giacobetti. The natural combo of bitterness and sweetness like that in iodoform, as well as the smooth, pleasant feel of saffron(Crocus cartwrightianus) escape from the bottle like djenies from a middle-eastern tale with merchants and thieves. The same feel accompagnies me in Agent Provocateur where the rose is playing cello to saffron’s basso.
All these references are here dissected with the precision of a surgeon: saffron here, rose petals there, curcuma and turmeric like mustard-coloured dust, and fenugreek for pastırma, a delicasy that is destined for the brave and adventurous.

Pastırma is made from wind-dried cured meat, usually veal. Legend has it that agressive horsemen preserved meat by placing slabs of it in the pockets on the sides of their saddles, where it dried by the pressure of their thighs on the horse (this is also the origin of Steak Tartare). Then dried meat is covered in a paste called çemen comprising crushed cumin, fenugreek, garlic, and hot paprika as well as salt. Pastırma is intensely rich with the aroma of fenugreek (Trigonella foenum-graecum), an herb primarily used as a galactogue for millenia, as well as for cattle food. An opaque, rather bitter smell with a nutty undertone, it traverses the urinary track to scent a person’s urine as well as their sweat and intimate juices. Its seeds’ odour is comparable to thick maple suryp. Fenugreek is featured in many fragrances which have rippled the waters of niche perfumery with pre-eminent examples Sables by Annick Goutal and Eau Noire by Christian Dior (composed by nose Francis Kurkdjian). Everytime I smell them I am reminded of the intense flavour that this spice gives them.

To take the heat off those spicy dishes the Turks have devised the wonderfully refreshing drink Ayran or Airan, a mix of yogurt, water and salt, not too different from traditional Lassi from India. It manages to clean the palate and restore the stomach to its best function.
But the most fascinating of them all is the winter drink Boza, a fermented drink made from bulgur. It tastes tart and is thick as glue. Traditionally served with a dash of cinnamon on top and double roasted chickpeas (called leblebi in Turkish) on the side, it was confided to us by our waiter that it grows the breasts to become bigger! I can't vouch for its effects but it sure makes an impression upon hearing the rumour, doesn’t it?


To be continued with bittersweet romance, hammams and desserts...

Pics through Fotosearch and cafefernando.com. Clip from the film From Russia with Love, courtesy of JamesBondwiki.com

*For you ladies who consider this kind of dancing demeening, please click to see this AMAZING clip!

Travel Memoirs: Istanbul

"The ghosts return at night, little lights for unredeemed souls
And if you gaze up at the barricades, you’ll see figures looking back at you
And it’s then that a complaint wanders you through the cobblestone alleys
Of Constantinople, a lover from yore, whom you find in someone else’s embrace".

~"Vosporos", by Nikos Zoudiaris, sung by Alkinoos Ioannidis

Travel Memoirs begins with one of the most sensuous destinations: Istanbul ~the Ottoman name under which the former capital of the Byzantine Empire, Constantinople, is known today.
Initially the city was named after the Roman emperor Constantine the Great who made it Nova Roma, over the site of the ancient Greek colony founded by Megara citizens simply named Byzantium. Yet the name Istanbul itself is based on the common Greek usage of referring to Constantinople simply as “The City”, because it was the crown jewel of medieval cities with a population and grandeur that exceeded many western European cities, such as London, Paris and Rome, for centuries. It derives from the phrase "εις την Πόλιν" or "στην Πόλη" {(i)stimboli(n)}, both meaning "in the city" or "to the city".

And it is no surprise that in an Empire whose majority of the population was Greek or speaking Greek, there is still a strong Greek element running through the fabric of memory when one sets foot on Istanbul’s soil. But the Ottoman heritage is none the less interesting to witness: minarets and mosques, majestic palaces, bazaars, carpet dealers and salep sellers on the street peppered with excellent cuisine and suggestive dancing render the visitor captive of its charms. It’s this fusion between Occidental and Oriental that gives Istanbul its extraordinary character. A character of strange melancholy: perhaps it’s the ancestral call…

Passing through the arabesque cobblestone on Istiklal across from the fish market, one enters the Cukurcuma district, full of antique shops, lazy cats sunning their bellies and the aroma of slowly roasted, dark coffee on hot sand, Turkish coffee (Türk kahvesi), made the traditional way. The preparation begins by boiling finely powdered roast coffee beans in a copper ibrik, the shape of a tiny ewer, with the addition of cardamom and (optionally) sugar. The thick liquid boils and boils again ceremoniously, emitting the aroma beyond the scope of the little terraces where it is served. Made one cup (fildžan) at a time, where the dregs settle and a thick golden cream forms on top, the köpük, it is a process of slow anticipation, a largo of animation. And also a journey into the past and the future. In this small fildžan I can almost glimpse the Levantine Arabs bringing the fruit of coffea bush to Constantinople. The Ottoman chronicler İbrahim Peçevi reports the opening of the first coffeehouse in İstanbul:

“Until the year 962 (1554-55), in the High, God-Guarded city of Constantinople, as well as in Ottoman lands generally, coffee and coffeehouses did not exist. About that year, a fellow called Hakam from Aleppo and a wag called Shams from Damascus, came to the city: they each opened a large shop in the district called Tahtalkala, and began to purvey coffee.”

~ Cemal Kafadar, "A History of Coffee", Economic History Congress XIII (Buenos Aires, 2002)

But I can also forsee the future: those sludgy grounds left at the bottom serve for tasseography, an old tradition of fortune telling. The cup is turned onto the saucer and the symbols formed are deciphered by some older woman.The flavour of cardamom and sometimes kakule (pistachio grains whole seed "pods", pistachio-looking like of the cardamom plant) settles in the mouth, lingering for a long time, like the prophecies revealed by the symbols on the cup. “Will they ever come true?”, one wonders gallivanting through the medieval alleys.



In Kapali Carci (the Grand Bazaar with the 1000 shops) one comes across all kinds of scented products. Fragrant balms for the hair, henna paste for body and hair, oils of rare plants and fossilised resins, like lumps of gum benjamin (benzoin), Turkish sweetgum (Liquidabar orientalis) and all the spices of Arabia. If one persists there are manuscripts, or should I say copies of old manuscripts posing as older than they are, with recipes using them. One of them is "Theriaca Andromachi Senioris", a Venice treacle recipe that uses benzoin appearing in the 1686 d'Amsterdammer Apotheek, a honey- or molasses-based alexipharmic composition once thought to be effective against venom. First developed in Italy, then exported throughout Europe from Venice and ending in Constantinople. If only the offered manuscript were authentic…

And of course there is Anatolian rose Otto (from Ottoman) which leaves an intense trail of almost fruity scent to one’s hands after handling the precious little bottles, with the name Gül (Rose) written on the label. I try to recall if any commercial fragrance captures the intense, decadent and yet also fresh odour of such an essence and come up with none. One is hard pressed not to haggle with the local sellers who are expecting so and the little treasure is secured into a handbag, folded with a silk handkerchief depicting seagulls. It will linger in a drawer with old, frayed photos of ancestors, impregnating their precious memory with the essence of the place they begrudgingly had to leave.



To be continued....

Pic shows Ortaköy Mosque (officially Büyük Mecidiye Camii, the Grand Imperial Mosque of Sultan Abdülmecid) and the Bosphorus Bridge by cafefernando.com.
Translation of lyrics by the author.
Clip from the intro of Greek-Turkish film Politiki Kouzina, uploaded on Youtube by JasonSeaman1.