Perfumes the Guide gets supplemented!

It was with much interest that I just received news from Luca Turin that his ~co-authored with Tania Sanchez~ book Perfumes, the Guide, which Perfume Shrine had reviewed here, is getting supplemented. Apparently the questions of dr.Turin on what the fans would like to see had been aiming at providing reviews of more scents: which is good!

Not only there is a new site, with the beautiful Coques d'Or blue bottle by Guerlain magnified to its full resplendor, but there is also the prospect of a Newsletter, free for download from the site, issued quaterly: in September, December, March and June.
On the heels of that, we learn that the new edition of Perfumes, the Guide including the supplemented reviews from the newsletters is due in autumn 2009 for the US.
Therefore I do appreciate the fact that the supplemented reviews are free for download: I'd propose that it remains so for all four newsletters if possible.

Additionally, many readers felt that lots of energy had been spent on reviewing things that got off with a snarky (in many cases deserved) one-liner when there were significant fragrances that had escaped criticism or praise ~a weak point in the previous edition. So each newsletter is aiming to provide 100 new fragrance reviews, so that's 400 more in total till next autumn.
Some brows will get raised ("Aqua di Gio for men and Giorgio get 4 stars while Dolce Vita gets 2???" I can hear the echoes) and some heads will nod with appreciation (Del Rae Debut and Lutens latest exclusive El Attarine deservedly in my opinion getting 4 stars). And guess which controversial fragrance gets "explained" rationally.

Printers, you're on fire!! And might I also add: beatific enthusiasm and board dramas might also ensue soon enough.

And secretly, I have my own little reason for inward smiling.

Pic via Perfumes the Guide site. Commentary entirely my own (not via press release).

Vetiver Dance by Tauer: Fragrance Review and Draw

“She is the embodiment of grace. She flows like water, she glows like fire and has the earthiness of a mortal goddess. She has flowers in her hair, jewelled hands and kohl-dark eyes. Her eyes speak a language that her hands will translate, her feet move in tandem to make the story complete. She is a danseuse, she is a performer, she is almost ethereal.”
~Photosindia-com

Vetiver Dance, the newest Andy Tauer fragrance dances around vetiver the way an Indian dancer dances like water, like fire. It is completely fabulous and if you're even in the least intrigued, there is strong motive for you to read through so as not to miss a spectacular surprise. I got a preview previously and after focusing on vetiver these past few days, it was a natural progression to come back and give a full review.

One of the traits which I appreciate most in niche Swiss perfumer Andy Tauer's oeuvre, apart from his excellent customer service of course, is that he doesn't resort to syncatabasis. His creations do not condensent to soothe the audience into the false sense of security of presenting them with artisanal pretentions yet producing eerily derivative works. Every one of his scents can stand alone, even though the common thread between them is unmistakeably his signature. Although I do not wear all his fragrances due to personal quirks and preferences, some of them have caught my attention and became friends immediately and forcibly: L'air du desert marocain was my first apodrasis into the desert, Rêverie au Jardin promenaded me into a soothing afternoon vignette through a Provencial field, while the duo of Incense took me from the austere bedrock of a hermite of Incense Extrême to the bright lux in tenebris filtered through the colourful vitraux of a spacious church on a festive morning of Incense Rosé.

According to the Tauer press release:

"Vetiver oil is one of the most fascinating natural fragrances to work with.Exploring the dark, raw and almost damp earthiness of vetiver oil you may discover hidden gems. Delicate lines of green leaves, clear spices, and soft flower petals. Trying to expose these treasures, I was working for more than a year on the fragrance that was later baptized “Vetiver dance” thanks to a creative online community. It is a fragrance where the dense and rich notes of vetiver oil balance the lightness of citrus, where wet dark earth nourishes white flowers, and where green spices extend vibrant woody chords".

An enumeratio of the creation was slowly unfolding on Tauer's blog, for months on end, leading us through the steps. In it all, there comes the contraption that needs to be patented: Vetiverometer ~a term coined by Andy Tauer, a "machine" measuring the “vetiverness”, the proximity to the real thing and reading the results, on an open logarithmic vetiver scale, so you get an idea where your scent is. Of course this didn't aim at a quality reading but instead the proximity to the material itself which varies a lot according to the soil vetiver has rooted on and drank upon, as we explained before.
Tauer finally managed to come to his desired effect: vetiver is clearly visible within Vetiver Dance, yet the pepper, clary sage and the cleaner aspect of lily of the valley garland it into a playful hide-and-seek.

Vetiver and grapefruit notes were allies for a long time, as even the natural oil depending on the source might have this kind of nuance to it. Natural grapefruit essence as well as tangy lemongrass oppose and enhance the rooty aroma in Vetiver Dance. The vetiver derivative Vetiverol extends the earthy Javanese note, upping the vetiver ambience to high volume, dry and tonic. Vetiver Dance is not as single-minded rooty as Vétiver Extraordinaire by F.Malle with its unexpected wet touch, but it is far removed from the starchy cotton-shirts of the bankers of classic Guerlain Vétiver. Its fierce peppery note, very distinct and a source of great hedonism to this spice lover, is supported by natural coriander, clary sage leaves' essence and a slight touch of cardamom oil. To me, the protagonist in the initial stages is the pepper along with the vetiver-grapefruit accord, fiery, dry; cold and hot at the same time.
Although Tauer lists lily of the valley (a recreated note which has been here centered around the soapy Lilial) as well as Bulgarian rose, the fragrance isn't floral or "clean" in the way of several more conservative vetivers in the market, like the two by Creed.
But the surprise comes when the fragrance dries down, revealing a delicious ambrein background which hovers on like a skin-scent, warm, pulsating and sexily tantalising, making this a vetiver fit to be worn on intimate rendez-vous and shared between lovers.

Notes: vetiver oil from Java, grapefruit peel oil, black pepper seed, clary sage, Rose absolute from Bulgaria, lily of the valley, ambergris, cedar wood, Tonka bean and cistus extracts.

Vetiver Dance by Tauer will be available in 50ml/1.7oz of Eau de Toilette starting October. His fragrances are available online from First in Fragrance, Luckyscent and Aedes. Click over to Tauer Perfumes to learn more details. Andy Tauer will be at Scentbar in Los Angeles on October 4 & 17 to introduce Vetiver Dance.
Andy also has a secret in the works which I am not allowed to divulge just yet, but rest assured it will make many fans smile. If only he releases Hyacinth and a Mechanic as well!

For Perfume Shrine readers Andy Tauer suggested a spectacular draw: THREE NEW FULL BOTTLES of the yet unreleased Vetiver Dance. I will randomly pick the winners through random.org and direct them over to Andy who will send them their prizes!
But as a consolation prize, he also sent me a few samples for some more winners*, so state your interest and if you're lucky you will get a chance to get a preview for yourself!

*NB: In the interests of full disclosure, I decided to keep a couple of samples for myself and my S.O., to enjoy this wonderful vetiver till the time comes when I buy my own bottle in October.

Pic of actors rolling in Aristophanes' performance from Epidaurus, via athinorama.gr. Bottle pic via Tauer press release.

Guerlain and Chanel upcoming launches: fragrance rumours

As a coda to the Guerlain news on new fragrance we had announced the other day, we were able to find a little more info that might elucidate one of our claims. It was hypothesized that the phrase Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum, recently trademarked by la maison Guerlain, might indicative a commemorative limited edition or a concept similar to Comme des Garcons with their Incense Series, inspired by different cities around the world steeped in the tradition of incense, each evoking a special atmosphere.

Digging and asking we got hold of more info on the Guerlain idea: apparently there are some names that do indicate the latter rather than the former. There are the deposited names of Guerlain 01 Moscou, Guerlain 02 New York and Guerlain 03 Tokyo, as well as variations that combine Paris with each city (ie. Guerlain Paris-Moscou etc.) It is obvious that Guerlain is going for a more glamorous choice of metropolies rather than the anchorite approach of the Japanese brand. And it was further elucidated to us that although the term Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum is indeed a communication tool that has or will be used, as Octavian Coifan suggested the other day to us, the above names with cities included are on the contrary on the same level as other perfume names such as L'Instant or Tutti Kiwi (one of the lastest Aqua Allegoria scents).
That would be interesting to watch!

There is also the name Habit Noir, perhaps a flanker to Habit Rouge, the classic 1965 masculine counterpart to Shalimar, with its deliciously powdery notes. Noir is the new...eh...can't say "black", as it does mean black, but let's just say it's on the lips of everyone right now. I don't see the innovation in naming something "black" or "noir" anymore, especially in view of it being used for compositions that are as far removed from the dangerous, illicit air they imply as possible. Could they have replaced that name with the Habit de Metal flanker which they released in March 2008? Although I am kind of intrigued on what the names Mephisto and Centurion are doing there as well!

Oh, and after Insolence, My Insolence and the newest Insolence Eau de Parfum, prepare yourself for an Insolence Tendre ~probably for next spring launch. Just what we have been anxiously awaiting for, n'est-ce pas?


And what about Chanel? Apart from the newest inclusion in Les Exclusifs, Beige, of course; an addition which erupted like a sleeping volcano under our nose (click to read) as being a white floral with a pronounced (?) musky base and launching at Saks in a week.
I think it's fairly safe to assume that the next one to join in about a year will be either Rouge, or Bleue, judging by my info. Octavian knows the vintage Rouge was strong on rosy tones anchored by Javanese vetiver with lots of sweet powdery orris-violet notes. But we have already ascertained through Sycomore and Beige that the new variations bear no similarity with the vintage alchemies, therefore all possibilities are open. The violets potential however is something up till now untapped in the Chanel stable, therefore the new Rouge might veer towards that.

Good news for us though: Cristalle is not only not showing signs of being discontinued as had been feared by many perfume bloggers and participants on online fora, but there seems to be a series of flankers programmed or at least in the process of thought to exploit its chic and insouciant pedigree. Variations, such as Eau Aromatic ~shouldn't it be Aromatique, though?~, Eau Citrus and Eau Rosée. And/or perhaps also Vert and Bleu de Cristalle, which seem older (abandoned?) trademarks.
Whether these will be issued under the collective name Cristalle Facettes (Facets of Cristalle) or the term Facettes is reserved for some makeup addendum is dubious. We will soon enough see for ourselves.

Perhaps there might also be another Chance flanker, under the name Chance Folle? I'd say this is pushing one's luck (how much more pedestrian can they go for Chance?) but I am not averse to the name itself, what with its gambler's nuance which would fit with a sophisticated commercial I had posted about previously and with its allusion to Divine Folie by Patou (although I am sure it won't have any relation to that one). My personal opinion is it will be a phrase used in the advertising, rather for a stand-along fragrance. Les Lignes de Chance is perhaps the collective name under which the flankers could be marketed.

But the most intriguing should be Jersey de Chanel, which directly alludes to the fashions Coco herself introduced in the 1920s, inspired by the material previously used for masculine undergarments.

The above are of course mere hints at what we might or might not expect ~some plans do get abandonded mid-term sometimes. They have not been officially corroborated before the firms are ready to proceed with press releases and carefully mapped-out marketing strategies.
But it's fun to speculate nevertheless.

Guerlain ad via Okadi, Chanel Les Exclusifs photo courtesy of New York Times.

Vetiver Series 4: the Secret of Gender in Vetiver

Have you ever watched a conjurer put a volunteer from the audience into one of those contraptions that open and close via those ornamented Chinese doors? He enters as a man, next thing you see is the magician's attractive female assistant emerge from the same little door all decked out in sequins and feathers. What happened to the man? Who knows. He doesn't disappear, unless we're into a Woody Allen film, but the change is dramatic and surprising. The same thing that sometimes happens upon setting eyes on a beautiful woman who has a little too wide shoulders, a little too large hands and you catch yourself trying to discern if she's hiding an Adam's apple under that dainty diamanté necklace and the shimmer of a thousand crushed pearls in her Nars eyeshadow.

Olfactory perceptions can be like that. First you think you have a good, solid, traditional feminine or masculine "note". Then the artist takes the material and spins it on its axon rendering it the bearer of news in the drama that unfolds in the stage of your olfactory adventure.
Vetiver is just one of those materials. Although traditionally thought of as masculine, as far back as in the 1910s-1920s, vetiver, without its masculine accoutrement, was starring in very feminine fragrances playing the liberated card of the garçonne, just hinting at a subversive undercurrent. Some of the unabashedly feminine fragrances featuring vetiver do so with the gusto of a painter who puts a touch of black on the milkiest white to create the enigmatic imperceptibly greyish pallor of a romantic heroine.

Besides, vetiver along with orris contributed to the famous powdery base Vetyrisia, featured in many classic products that evoke seemingly long-forgotten times.

Ernest Beaux with Chanel No.5 (1921) put the defining touch in the aldehydic, abstract creations that defined the new femininity: foregoing the usual flower bouquets, he infused the composition with a woody note of vetiver that creates disturbing arpegios under the super feminine ylang-ylang and the catty musk of a fur coat. The result très célèbre remains a perfect evocation of sohpsticated feminity that changed the world of fragrance for ever: "a woman should not smell like a flower patch", Coco Chanel quipped.
Jeanne Lanvin went one better in this particular field by having André Fraysse make vetiver an even more pronounced note in Arpège, a dark green glove that engulfs the flowers in forest tranquility. Crepe de Chine by Millot and Djedi by Guerlain were other fragrances featuring its chic aura.
Perfumer Maurice Blanchet worked with Charles Frederick Worth's son, Jean Charles, to create Parfums Worth in an era when couturiers came up with fragrances inspired by the paradigms of Chanel and Jean Patou. In 1932 he introduced Je Reviens to the world ~a fragrance masterminded around narcissus and anchored by the serene touch of vetiver. Completely changed now to the point of non recognition, Je Reviens serves as a landmark of Art-Deco style and the romantic inclinations of the times.
Indiscret by Lucien Lelong was created in 1935 (revamped and completely changed in 1997 by Mane) in a Surrealist-inspired bottle reminiscent of half-drawn curtains. Reportedly one of the staples of Marlen Dietrich, it evoked the ambience of a cabaret with its daring use of decadent flowers of corruption and woody notes in which vetiver played a significant part.
Its polar opposite could be Blue Grass by Elizabeth Arden came in 1936 by perfumer George Fuchs, from old Grasseois house of Fragonard. Unapologetically sporty and carefree, not cosmopolitan in the least, it was named for the Kentucky "blue grass" in honour of Arden's horses. "You'll never sell it with that name, it will remind people of manure" one of Arden's managers complained, but history proved him wrong as it became one of Arden's bestsellers.
In the 30s unisex was quite popular in a light hesperidic and vetiver-woody composition bearing the name Aqua di Parma. Their classic Colonia was reportedly favoured by both men and women, some of them famous like Ava Gardner and Cary Grant, as a valued pick-me-up.



The classic emancipated chypres around and after WWII found their predictable ally in the aloof stance of vetiver. The dangerous Bandit (1944) for Piguet, created by Germaine Cellier for dykes, managed to combine the tweed feel of vetiver with bitter green quinolines evoking leather in what was an outlaw's uniform. Ma Griffe used to be assertively powdery and frosty with the spicy touch of styrax and vetiver that providing the cooling background of a confident and world-savvy woman singing an emerald song atop a Parisian terrace. And of course the ultra-green, ultra classy dry Y by Yves Saint Laurent (1964) which should be sampled if only to see what a true classy chypre smells like.

But its most surprising use came into the aldehydics of the 60s and 70s. The Yves Saint Laurent iconic creation, Rive Gauche (1971), utilised vetiver to provide the cool background on which frosty, sparkling flowers rest silently, as did Calandre by Paco Rabanne, two years its senior and arguably the prototype of a metallic rose smothered in frost. The impeccable taste of Calèche was furthered through not only aldehydes, but also the quietly woody tonality of vetiver, which is the dominand impression of its base notes.
Clinique's Aromatics Elixir (1969), by nose Bernand Chant, took that gigantic rose and buried it under a whole forest floor of patchouli and vetiver to render it the most memorable sillage one can encounter on a stranger. It's interesting to note that Chant worked on both Cabochard with the drydown of which there is kinship as well as the classic masculine Aramis by Lauder.

Chanel No.19 is perhaps the best example of vetiver shinning through a starched cotton shirt that is meant to clad a woman of pedigree. Unassuming, prim, beautiful in its orris richness, it looks upon you with the severe eye of a lady to the manor born who never dons pearls but opts for cool silver bangles.
The echoes can be heard both in Chanel's other cool composition, Cristalle (Eau de toilette 1974 by Henri Robert; Eau de parfum 1992 by Jacques Polge), as well as the enigmatic green fruity chypre of Diorella by Edmond Roudnitska.
White Linen (1978) by Estee Lauder and Ivoire (1979) by Balmain both play upon the clean, soapy facets of feminine traditionality with a distinct touch of serene vetiver that is treated in a cool and soothing, powdery way.

The 80s saw a return to chypres, this time more professional and cerebral, less animalic than before, fit for the office heroines of a brave shoulder-pad era. A plethora of them use vetiver: the emphatically powdery with a pittosporum heart Knowing (1988) by Lauder and the exhuberant and projective rose of Diva by Ungaro. Interspersed there came the naughty, assertive dissenters who had other plans after the boardroom meetings and always kept a pair of spare lingerie in their crocodile clutches: Paloma Picasso and Parfum de Peau by Montana.

Even in the loud florals of the 80s, such as Giorgio Beverly Hills (1981), vetiver is the one saving grace that might have kept the strident, overachievers from becoming the gripe of death. A case in point was evident in the older version of Beautiful (1986) by Estee Lauder that kept the extravagance of intense white florals under check by copious amounts of the earthy grass root. Possibly it was a knowing nod to the successful turn that Sophia Grojsman had interjected in the brand's White Linen almost a decade before and in the fruity "grapefruit impression" of Calyx for Prescriptives in 1986.
The trick of containing white florals with vetiver was repeated two years later in Carolina Herrera's eponymous fragrance for women: a scent full of the indolic smell of jasmine and tuberose that would risk being caricatures of womanhood had it not been the discreet underscore of vetiver.
The experienced Jean Kérleo was aware of this true marriage by utilizing it in both his shadowy chyprish floral 1000 (1972) and the sunny, hearty smile of Sublime (1992), both for Jean Patou.
Could it then be that ommiting vetiver is the fault of loud white floral fragrances that bombard our nostrils with all the force of a WWII London air-raid? We can but assume.


As years and trends progressed vetiver along with patchouli became de rigeur: restrictions on the amount of oakmoss used in fragrances necessitated a turn into its earthy and re-assuring timbre.
Some surprising examples show just how magical its effect can be in the most unexpected ways. Le Baiser du Dragon by Cartier is full of vetiver in the base beneath the amaretto notes of its heart. Agent Provocateur uses it to render that troubling, earthy chyprish nuance to rose and saffron. Even Lush, a brand famous for their "homemade" looking skincare came up with a solid perfume inspired by the soothing attributes of vetiver, combined with the ultra-feminine jasmine for good measure: Silky Underwear, first released as a powder.

And then again the opening of the "niche" sector saw the tremendous potential for fragrances aimed at both sexes which made use of the note in unique ways, away from the establishment classic, rendering it very popular with women of unconventional tastes: from the fresh, young and chic hermaphrodite of Chanel Sycomore and the nutty, bittersweet delicacy of Vetiver Tonka in the Hermessences to the licorice-laced Vétiver Oriental by Lutens and the sexy darkness of an unusual brunette beauty of Vetiver Bourbon by Miller Harris.

But we will return with seperate reviews later on.
To be continued!

Autoportrait by Tamara de Lempicka (1925) via art.com. Bandit ad originally uploaded at MUA. Knowing ad via Parfum de Pub. Pic of Elena Bonham Carter smoking from "Fight Club"

Kapsule by Karl Lagerfeld: new fragrances ~Light, Woody, Floriental

Karl Lagerfeld is best known for a few things: his trademark ponytail, his eye-glaring weight-loss, his prolific churning-out of numerous collections for several brands (Chanel, his own, Fendi etc.) and his perfume fetish. The latter got manifested not only through his own personal choices (one of which is the immortelle-rich Eau Noire by Dior's private line, at the same time when he donned the Heidi Sleiman suits on his newly thinspirational figure), but through the fragrances under his own name. From the old Chloe (which got reformulated recently into a completely new fragrance)and the spicy KL to the discontinued Sun, Moon, Stars and Photo for men.

Now Karl is launching a new unisex line, called Kapsule, (with K standing for Karl?) in collaboration with Coty. The press release is talking about aiming to en-Kapsule-ate the French market, whatever that might mean. The aim of Lagerfeld is making a quality perfume that will be affordable.
Somehow, Coty as the investor can be a blessing and a curse: It might signify a low markup that will aim at wide distribution, great team and PR and prove very successful commercially (example: Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker) or it could equal a celebritoid vibe on the mind of perfume buying audiences that is sub-par in quality (example: all the usual suspects, I'm afraid). At any case, the Coty team are not novices and they know what they're doing.
For Karl Lagerfeld the project has acquired a -shall I say it?- rather "niche" touch: from the sparse bottles to the unisex proclivities. The names which evoke fragrance families are gently evocative of the newest trio of Guerlain Carnal Elixirs/Elixirs Charnels, although much less playful in their intent. Also the different perfumers behind the different versions within the same range is another niche trait.
Everyone is doing their own version of niche! Niche is the new mass-market, obviously.

The new line will nevertheless be issued in three versions, each aiming to capture its own audience:
Light will be fresh and summery, with notes of bitter orange, jasmine, nutmeg, clove and musk.(transparent blue bottle; nose: Mark Buxton)
Woody will be focused on cedar on an amber background with accents of plum and and moss. (dark blue bottle; nose: Olivier Cresp)
Floriental will be the most delicate with tea leaf aroma,ivy leaf and violet notes. (red bottle; nose: Emile Cooperman)
The names which evoke fragrance families are gently evocative of the newest trio of Guerlain Carnal Elixirs/Elixirs Charnels, although much less playful in their intent.
Bottles are simple and solid, designed by Lutz Herrmann: squarely built with a round label, each one tinted a different colour.

Expect to see the Kapsule collection by Karl Lagerfeld from October 2008, starting with Paris exclusively at Colette and Parfumeries Marionnaud and rolling out in Germany and US in November. Early sights of the range can also be caught by autumnal travellers who will see it in travel retail (duty-free shops). In the US Neiman Marcus will have them as an exclusive.
30ml/1oz or 75ml/2.5oz eau de toilette spray for €37/$59 and €68/$108 respectively.

Pics and info through wwd.and Vogue.fr

Guerlain: Bois Torride and Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum: fragrant news

An avalanche of heads-up involving upcoming launches from major houses such as Chanel (Beige) and Hermès (Vanille Galante) were piling up and today Guerlain news join them.
We do cherish the opportunity to ponder on rumours in any case.
According to the very perceptive Kopah from Basenotes:

"It seems that the name of the next instalment in the L'Art et la Matière series may be Bois Torride. Guerlain filed an application for a European Community trademark for this name on June 4, 2008. (For the record, their applications for the names of the Elixirs Charnels/Carnal Elixirs were filed on April 28.) They have also recently filed applications for the script logo which appears above their shop at 68, Champs-Elysées, and for the phrase Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum".

Since the same happened when we were speculating what the newest Serge Lutens would be (and it did prove to be Serge Noire and how lovely that one is!) , it would be safe to predict that in a few months' time, we could be graced with more news about the newest Guerlain launch: Bois Torride (torrid wood). Might it be too presumptuous to hypothesize that it would not be the torrid, fiery, fierce composition that its name would suggest? There seems to be some sort of betrayal between name and concept in the L'Art et la Matière line especially: Rose isn't very Barbare, Cuir Beluga is only marginally reminiscent of suede, Angelique is not nearly Noire, Iris Ganache is rather gourmand but not very iris-like and Cruel Gardénia is neither cruel, nor gardenia despite its big appeal (leaving only Bois d'Armenie in the line smelling faithfully like the French curiosity "Papier d'Armenie").
In fact it seems to me that this playful interaction between expectations on part of the customer and finished result is at the core of the line. It just can't be random! And if so it shows a wry sense of humour for which we smirk ourselves.

This could also shed light into the relation between Thierry Wasser and the latest masculine Guerlain Homme: official info wanted Wasser to be the house's head perfumer beginning June 2008. Since Guerlain Homme was issued last July and since Wasser was -predictably- amicably seen photographed with Jean Paul Guerlain, with whom he collaborated on the fragrance, it stands to reason that Wasser can't have been highly involved in its conceptualisation (of which Sylvaine Delacourte must be much more responsible being creative director) or execution. On the contrary it seems that he must have been intent on the projects that follow soon: the three Carnal Elixirs of course and the upcoming Bois Torride. It does seem like too much projects in so many months, nevertheless.
I am also reminding you that "torride" was previously linked to Givenchy (Eau Torride) with lukewarm results, so I am hoping that Guerlain will have cards up their sleeve. The gender of the fragrance might also be grounds for speculation, since although woody fragrances are traditionally masculine, they might put a spin and present it as a unisex in the manner of the other niche/exclusives circulating at the Boutique Guerlain. After all, most of us perfume lovers are uninihibited enough to wear what we like regardless of artificial cliches pertaining to gender.
We will find out around December 2009, if my calculations prove to be accurate.

On the other hand, the name Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum sounds like a commemorative, special edition that should mark an anniversary or iconic landmark of the historical house's path to glory. I also see the bling factor of serious Baccarat packaging engraved with special touches that will ante up the price to stratosperical heights: A prospect that sheds a frisson of excitement through a collector's bloodstream and a trembling rattle into the wallet of many a Guerlain fan.
Alternatively it could just be an evocation of Paris in the way that Comme des Garcons has been inspired by characteristic places for their Incense Series. This time Paris being the place of inspiration, it can't fail but to bring to mind the cornucopia of scents we have come to expect from such a place and the grand tradition of French perfumery which Guerlain indeed evokes. This has the potential to be either heavenly or a complete and utter letdown given the tremendous magnitude of its mythos, so I am hoping that Thierry Wasser and Sylvaine Delacourt will be extra-attentive in how they go about it.

In any case, Guerlain has been harnessing the market in many inventive and marketing-perceptive ways lately and I am curious and excited to see what they will accomplish with these. We will report back with more as actual data unfolds in the following months.

Le Baiser du Hotel de Ville, 1950 Paris by Robert Doisneau courtesy of Amazon. Pic of Guerlain boutique, Paris, via the Perfume Bee.

New Hermessence Vanille Galante: fragrance news & musings

Hot on the heels of the news on a new Chanel in Les Exclusifs line, named Beige and mysteriously kept under wraps at Saks which however will carry it, as reported on Perfume Shrine first, here come the news on a new Hermessence.

AlbertCan had the scoop just yesterday:

"Hermès is in the midst of launching another Hermessence fragrance. Vanille Galante will be available at Hermès boutiques in around January 2009. The scent shall be issued in the usual Hermessence editions: the prices will be the same as the others as well".

Perfume Shrine got excited and decided to flesh this out, so here we are.
In-house perfumer Jean Claude Ellena, responsible for the house's latest, the sleeper classic Kelly Calèche and the controversial Un Jardin après la Mousson, is now focusing on vanilla.
Generally vanilla is one of the most popular themes in perfumery, due to its almost universal appeal. It harks back to the glorious days of Jicky (1889) and if the latter is any indication it's not an easy feat to accomplish. Even legendary Chanel perfumer Ernest Beaux complained that "when he was trying for vanilla he got crème anglaise, while Guerlain came up with Jicky!" The secret to that, apart from coumarin, was that the then newly discovered chemical path to synthetic vanillin by JC.W Tieman left traces of phenol, which smelled tarry-smokey. Today the effect in Jicky is reproduced via adding a little rectified birch tar. Still, this story proves that a good vanilla needs to be a little molested in order to give out its best.

But in the new Hermès Vanille Galante, the sweet material is embedded in a composition that attaches the moniker of "galante" to it. The French adjective galant (or galante for feminine nouns) has an intriguing background: in the romans de cour/courtly literature, that is the medieval novels of nobility (example Le Roman de la Rose from 1420-30), "galant" signifies the quality of courteous, gentlemanly and often amorous. The phrase "en galante companie" thus signified the company of a representative of the opposite sex.
Ellena being an intellectual man, might we expect in Vanille Galante a vanilla that is accompanied by a note which is its opposite, in order to highlight the true character all the more pronouncedly? Would it mean that vanilla essence, in itself a multi-complex natural material, should get a treatment like lavender had in Brin de Reglisse, the previous Hermessence from 2007? In that one, Ellena focused on the higher octaves of lavender absolute, which veer into caramel and licorice tonalities. Or the vetiver treatment he reserved for Un Jardin sur le Nil and Terre d'Hermes, in which he had molecules subtracted from the essence in order to arrive at a sparser, clearer, almost mineral vetiver message?
On the other hand, in musical terms, galant refers to the European style of classical simplicity after the complexity of the late Baroque era in the third quarter of the 18th century with pre-eminent representatives the rhythmical composers François Couperin, Jean-Philippe Rameau, Georg Philipp Telemann and Antonio Vivaldi . Their cyclical forma ties in with the theme of la Reverdie (return) in literary roman: that of eternal return of spring, a theme of pagan connotations .
The common trait would be the lyrical approach of solidly thematic subjects, which could sneak into the treatment of vanilla in Vanille Galante, or what I will from now on affectionaly call "péripéties de vanilla".

Vanilla is exactly the cliché note that begs for Jean Claude Ellena's modus operandi: chastiting it by food deprivation would be beneficial pedagogically, I feel. Vanillin (a natural developping aldehyde in vanilla pods and the most widely produced aromatic in the world) has its place in the arsenal of Ellena's carousel, as does ethyl maltol (the cotton-candy aromachemical first used in L'artisan's Vanilia, while maltol is also present in licorice, evident in Brin de Reglisse as discussed above). Nevertheless he has professed in an earlier interview that he is bored by "easy" notes such as vanillin and heliotropin. Yet he has produced his share of gourmand exempla, such as Bois Farine (2003), Elixir des Merveilles (2006) and Sublime Vanille (2001) for Lily Prune!
Vanilline however can be produced via gaïacol, eugenol or even lignine from cardboard manufacture. It's used in order to produce the scents of vanilla (of course), chocolate and banana. I am wondering whether those references might give Ellena some ideas on how to extend this note. Banana-peel is one of the nuances that some white florals, notably jasmine sambac and ylang-ylang, emit. However white florals have long been allied to vanilla and it strikes me as an unimaginative and too "talkative" coupling for an Ellena creation. Perhaps he will surprise us with a zen approach.

Additionally, Hermès wants to keep up with the competition in the niche stakes with other mega-houses: in this regard, Guerlain and its dark, rich Spiritueuse Double Vanille ~it proved to be such a good seller, that it was elevated from the status of limited, ephemeral edition into the permanent collection at Boutiques Guerlain and expanded to select doors(or was that the reverse marketing masterplan all along?, this scepticist is wondering).
Hermès can't break up the exclusivity factor of the Hermessences if Vanille Galante proves to be a bestseller without ruining the whole concept and shooting itself at the foot. What they could do however is keep the skeleton of the composition as the basis of their following feminine -most probably- fragrance. (two pieces of speculation at once, don't you love it here?)

The above constitute hypotheses on my part. We will update when more information becomes available from our sources. One thing seems for sure: We will be able to exclaim "Mais, c'est un Ellena!" (but it's an Ellena creation).

EDIT TO ADD: Six from Ambre Gris brought to my attention that it might be a simple allusion to Marie Galante, the island of the Caribbean located in the Guadeloupean archipelago. Constitutionally part of France, as Guadeloupe is an overseas région and département, MG is famous for its sugar cane but also cultures of tobacco, indigo, coffee and cotton.

Hermessences are available exclusively at select Hermès boutiques around the world. The bottles come at 100ml priced at 150 euros and there is also the option of a travel set of 4 aromisers of 15ml each (0.5oz) in either the same scent or 4 different ones in pre-arranged sets.

Read my full-on review of Vanille Galante following this link!

"Yvain secourant la damoiselle" from the Lancelot du Lac by Chretien de Trois manuscript. Vanilla pod and extract pic by Miri Rotkovitz(herbesspices.about.com)

Announcement on Winner

And the lucky winner for the draw on a sample of the super rare Dior-Dior is Pyramus!
Please mail me with your info so I can send the prize your way.

Thank you all for participating and stay tuned for another draw soon!

Take a Bow!

There are times when the esoterica of correspondence has a way of making one realise the little wonders that fill one's life. Small tidbits that brighten the mundane with fairy dust of a fairy Godmother; a smile and a small confession, some wistfulness and the appreciation of the same values in the otherwise dimly lit path of life. And in this path, people even talk about perfume.
Chayaruchama, or Ida, as friends know her, is one of the wonders of the perfume community who like King Midas has the rare gift of turning everything she touches into pure gold. Not the gold that lies at the end of the the rainbow or the lady who is buying a Stairway to Heaven. Instead, the gold that shines into the hearts of people who meet her.
I am not at all surprised that, out of the myriads of people that the photographer of the New York Times could have captured a shot of, they chose the expressive face of Ida, absorbed into the daydreaming that perfume has the power to evoke in us. I am not surprised that Neil Morris has created a perfume at her honour, as a hommage to her personality. I am not surprised that she has been blessed with wonderful children and loyal friends who sing her praises in the tongues of angels. She has earned all these and if you glimpse even the slightest bit of her, you surely already know.
Perfumista par excellence, opera singer, ministering angel in the wards of her patients, tender mother and muse to niche perfumers, jack of all trades yet master in all, Ida is a bundle of joy for everyone who talks with her or participates in the same forum.

Dearest, I feel deeply honoured to have been one of them!

Optical Scentsibilities: bottle design, part 2

Bottles get fairly often copied, er...*cough, cough*..."inspired" by other bottles it seems. After all we highlighted some on a previous post. Maybe the bottle designers/sculptors are just a handful (which they are, actually)and the rights for use are rather...liquid.

Witness these latest examples:



The scarce Japanese Y perfume has an elegant bottle that seems like a drop. Or a figurative swan's neck made of crystal, if you contort to a mental pretzel position for a bit.

Roughly evoking the similar bottle of bestseller Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan.
Jennifer Lopez is full of energy, producing not only twins and singing albums, but also fragrances to fill malls across America. Her latest is Deseo (desire in Spanish), which takes a novel approach of an irregular shape, bluish colour (not the usual choice for a passionate fragrance) and an offbeat cap.
Somehow I think we have seen this idea executed more competently in L by Lolita Lempicka. Another passion-potion in a blue-ish, irregularly shaped, vaguely heart-like bottle.

Balmain has Ambre Gris displayed everywhere in France. It just now made it to some online stores worldwide. Striking and hefty bottle, isn't it, with its big, sherical cap!


And guess who had made a similar bottle looooong ago? Coty for his seminar L'Origan.

Parfumerie Générale goes the way of niche: austere sturdy bottles, uniform design throughout the line, empasis on what's inside rather than frills, serious approach, emblematic labels.

Imagine one's surpise to find somethig similar enrobing the comparatively lowly Denim by Elidda Gibbs!

Then of course there is jewellers's brand Van Cleef & Arpels, who have issued many fragrances in jewel-like bottles. Féerie is their latest in an elaborate crystal flacon with silvery stems, shaped like a ripe fig.

If only Pierre Dinand hadn't already designed the lovely fig limited edition bottle for L'artisan Parfumeur's Premier Figuier...

Jessica Simpson tries hard with all the desperation of a has-been. So hard that she actually sanctions a quite pretty and expensive-looking bottle for her new perfume, Fancy (fancy that!)
Then again her target audience is 15-35 years old (nothing wrong with the upper end of the margin, plenty of wrong with the bottom end of it though: how could a modern 15-year-old get away in her entourage with anything elegant without atracting ridicule? To be answered in the hazy distant future).


Eerily reminiscent of the limited editions for the bell jars of the Serge Lutens fragrances for Le Palais Royal, like this one for Mandarine Mandarin.
Now cut it out, Jessica, please! This isn't funny!!

Pics via aedes, artcover, ausliebezumduft, ambregris, autour de serge, scentaddicts, luckyscent, parfumflacons.

Vetiver Racinettes by Ayala Moriel: fragrance review

It's always wise when exploring a certain material to come to the source. In the case of vetiver, the natural essences themselves. And what better way of discovering the exciting facets of unadulterated vetiver than going the natural way? Natural perfumers have long been maligned because they have been erroneously mixed up with aromatherapists whose higher priority is rather to provide healing than sensory pleasure. Their compositions have been called "invertebrae" and accused of having "the bone structure of a sea cucumber". But natural perfumers are not interested in effect before beauty, any less than traditional perfumers are, nor do not they target the fadish hoi polloi, unlike some of the latter. Instead they produce small batches that aim at the discerning consumer who seeks an almost alchemical path to olfactory revelation and the intimate knowledge of raw materials. "This is how pepper really smells like", you exclaim as you sniff tentatively; "here is a twist of ambrette seeds and what are they anyway?" you progess with entusiasm. "Hey, is that how natural ambergris really smells like? Wow!".

In this path of discovery and thanks to the wonders of the Internet I came across Ayala Moriel who has been producing her small artisanal line of natural perfumes for some years now.
Gigi has been her latest gardenia soliflore which I reviewed some months ago, while Sahleb reminded me of the sweet milky drink of the streets of Istanbul. On another vein, Film Noir has been my idea of a perfect deep and dirty patchouli ever since I first tried it. Which brings us to today's fragrance: Vetiver Racinettes.

Vetiver came prominently to the fore a few years ago in a roundabout way: Perfume houses were starting to significantly lower oakmoss levels to conform with European restrictions, often replacing it with vetiver and patchouli as a base in the new "modern chypres."
Ayala Moriel has been an inquisive soul which takes her craft seriously and in tandem with her own personal needs she began a Sir Richard Burton exploration into the uncharted territories of vetiver creation .

As she confessed for us this was part a personal journey :

"Last year, I had a deep need for [vetiver's] therapeutic qualities and cooling effect and I have become aware of vetiver's many virtues and its particular connection to the well being of the people and the planet in present day. Vetiver is a purifying, sacred root with a woody aroma, and in many ways I feel that it takes on a similar role that was once reserved to sacred woods such as sandal and oud. One thing lead to another, and after 4 different vetiver versions, I have finally arrived at a destination that I have never quite planned to find - my very own signature vetiver scent: Vetiver
Racinettes".

Vetiver Racinettes thus fleshes out the rooty aroma of vetiver into a summation and recapitualtion of all the aspects which caught Ayala's interest in her route to vetiver exploration. After going through a spare mod (Vetiver Blanc), one with the baked earth note of Attar Mitti (Wylde Vetiver), and another with coffee (Vetiver Noir), she arrived at the spicy amalgam which is Vetiver Racinettes.
Racinette comes from the French, code name for root beer and it is indeed the reminiscence of it which Ayala utilized: the earthy feel of "thousand rootlets in deep dirt with the sweetness of refreshing root beer".

Vetiver Racinettes combines both peppery and sweet spices, of which I perceive cardamom more prominently, allied to the musty, pungent aroma of the roots. The cardamom touch recalls a similar treatment in Déclaration for Cartier, in which the spice is evoking a refreshing drink with a tangy citrusy bite above the vetiver. Here the citrus tang comes from Kaffir Lime leaf, a succulent note which is especially perceptible in the heat of summer after the first few minutes on the skin as well as the fresher feel of Haitian vetiver which is the prominent note in Guerlain's classic Vétiver.
The opening of the fragrance is quite intense with the mustiness of vetiver roots in primo piano singing both overture and aria while a metal gong is echoing, while as it melds on the skin slowly, the lime leaf, cardamom and a sweet vibe like licorice are appearing like supporting actors from the wings rounding it out and providing comfort.
Vetiver Racinettes smells at once woody and orientalised: the cooling feel of water drunk from a clay pot, its muddy bitterness still perceptible, the secret fire of spice and the intimate touch of sweet and mushroomy-earthy notes which last very well.

Notes:
Top: Black Pepper, Fresh Ginger, Cardamom, Kaffir Lime Leaf
Heart: Haitian Vetiver, Nutmeg Asbolute, Coffee, Spikenard
Base: Ruh Khus*, Indonesian Vetiver, Vetiver Bourbon, Attar Mitti (baked earth), Tarragon Absolute, Cepes.

Vetiver Racinettes is a limited edition fragrance that will be available throughout Summer 2008. Advance orders are available through the website and will be shipped on a first-come first-serve basis.
The fragrance is available in 9ml parfum extrait(alcohol based)flacon ($110), Perfumed Pendant($125)with an option of refill, 10ml perfume-oil(jojoba based)in roll-on bottle($130) and 5ml perfume-oil roll-on bottle($65).

Ayala was gracious enough to offer 10 free samples for Perfume Shrine readers (normally these retail at 8$ each!): contact Ayala with codename "Perfume Shrine Vetiver Racinettes" to get your sample now!

Pic of Vetiver Racinettes, vetiver roots, nutmeg and cardamom pods by Ayala Moriel used with permission.

*Rhus Khus is produced in the north of India, distilled from wild-growing vetiver. Untypically blueish green in shade due to its being distilled in copper cauldrons, the traditional way. For more on vetiver varieties, read here.

Chanel Beige: new addition to Les Exclusifs?

It's uncanny how one comes across the most shocking and astounding news sometimes. Forcing us to interrupt what is a series of posts on something particular even! On hindsight, since I am about to talk about Sycomore by Chanel later on (as it is a vetiver-based scent after all), maybe it isn't that irrelevant as it seemed at first.
But let's revert to how I found out about it. There I was casually reading one of the blogs I visit often, Perfume Posse, and LizS posted this:
"I was jogging by Saks in NYC last night, and they have in the window all the les exclusifs by Chanel. There is a HUGE poster of one called BEIGE. its sitting next to the bottle of Sycomore. New Release?? I can’t find out any info online…has anyone else heard of this? I hadn’t been to Saks this weekend despite seeing the window displays, I guess I didn’t notice the name on the bottle".

Of course Beige by Chanel was one of the rare vintage fragrances that hark back to the days of Gabrielle Chanel herself and formed a holy triad: Rouge, Bleue, Beige. According to Octavian Coifan, fragrance and fashion historian:

"Chanel created in 1929 a very fresh spring collection with dresses in red/blue/beige in jersey (a sport style with stripes and geometric pattern) as depicted in a Vogue review from that year. In the same year Jean Patou launched Le Sien, the "unisex" perfume (chypre) that was inspired also by the sport spirit. Chanel and Patou promoted in those years a day fashion inspired by sports, with geometric patterns and young look. Maybe Chanel wanted to answer Patou's sport perfume (Le Sien = Her's) with her famous colours - red, blue and beige - used in jersey's sport dresses. But those perfumes are also an echo of the French Flag (bleu, blanc, rouge)".

The fragrance itself is described as echoing the composition of No.5 (much like the other two in the triptych do), yet the resulting scent being like a cross between Vol de Nuit and Arpege (which is formidable I bet!). The basic chord seems to be jasmine, orris and amber.

So what is happening? Is Chanel planning on re-introducing their old Beige (and maybe eventually more older compositions) in their Les Exclusifs lineup? Or are they changing the formula enough not to resemble the vintage, very rare juice, like they did with the chic Sycomore? (another defunct Chanel from the days of Mademoiselle). Are Bleu and Rouge next?
And why are they aiming these splurgingly luxurious fragrances at the American audiences first? May I remind you that the equally quitessential house of Guerlain went the same route with their exclusive editions of Cruel Gardénia and Spirituese Double Vanille...which is interesting in terms of marketing, to say the least.
The plot thickens; mark my words!

Pic of Beige by Chanel courtesy of Octavian Coifan.

Vetiver and Vetiver pour Elle by Guerlain: fragrance review

I guess I have to thank Elle McPherson: Australian 6-feet "the Body" supermodel of the 80s, whose signature fragrance has loyally been the masculine Vétiver by Guerlain. It makes sense: anything more traditionally feminine on that gorgeous specimen of Amazonesque womanhood and she'd burst!
Prompted by this unrealistic image, beknownst to me via religious leafing through British Vogue and French Elle editions, my teenager feet brought me before a Guerlain counter where I was spoilt for choice ~and in retrospect treated like a mature woman instead of a girl: Shalimar ("soft powder" the matronly but kindly sales assistant purred), L'Heure Bleue ("wistful flowers" she daydreamed), Mitsouko (I didn't need any coaxing on that one; I knew it well from my mother's dresser) and...off my hand went and grabbed the Vétiver tester. "That's for men, honey!" she gently admonished. And yet, why shouldn't I make it my own, like Elle had? The day was hot, school was out and I was determined to treat myself. Thus Vétiver and I became friends. For life.

Historically Vétiver was first created for the Mexico market, one of the biggest consumers of Guerlain's "Vetiver extrait". However Carven's strikingly fresh Vetiver (1957), already a huge success and the inspiration of the green packaging behind subsequent vetiver scents, prompted director Jean-Pierre Guerlain to modernize their own formula for larger distribution; especially since the house hadn't produced a true masculine since the days of their Eaux de Cologne, Jicky and Mouchoir de Monsieur. The commission was undertaken by his then 22-year-old nephew Jean-Paul. He focused on "the smell of the gardener" as a source of inspiration: outdoorsmen, their presence evoking the warmth of the earth with the freshness and vitality of nature, marrying tobacco to vetiver root.
If Givenchy's Vétyver is one of serene and self-assured patrician crepuscular composure, Guerlain's Vétiver is a bright day's morning optimism when anything seems achievable. Its vibrant, upbeat character with a citrusy edge helped made it a huge success, while Givenchy's languished, thus earning Guerlain yet another slot in the Pantheon of Greats.

Vétiver by Guerlain starts with a crisp citrusy accord that sustains itself for about 15 minutes, like ice crushed between jaws feels tingling the back of one's neck in the heat of August; or an hesperidic cologne with soft musks, fresh out from the fridge, sprayed on hot skin, creating goosepumps. Haitian vetiver is very complimentary to the lemony notes, rendering them ever so slightly soapy.
Technically classified in the Woods family by Michael Edwards, it soon proves why. The cascade of spicy, slightly bitter notes dominating is delightfully refreshing and addictive. As it puffs on a Romeo y Julietta, a bittersweet tobacco note emerges,rounding out the edges and providing the assurance of one's beloved dad in the days when he was a dynamic and suave young man, taking you in his arms for a goodnight kiss. Or another of its famous fans: Andy Garcia in his heyday, Cuban tobacco trailing off.
Vétiver is a comparatively light scent, compared to mustier, earthier renditions of the material, which however lasts well.

Despite Guerlain's claim to keeping the composition of Vétiver unaltered, my vintage from the 80s, in its squat square bottle similar to Habit Rouge, but with a deep forest green label (the label became more bottle-green in the 90s), points to a smokier and sweeter ambience with a rounder feel to it. It's thus more comforting and more insinuating, like what one imagines Lady Chatterley's Lover to be smelling of after working on a warm day, although the current version is also excellent, if rather drier and crisper.
Vetiver relaunched in 2000 with a new packaging and half clear/half frosted glass bottle (designed by Robert Granai) and more acid green juice rather than straw-coloured, which might indicate a slight tampering with the formula.
In 2000 a special edition was incorporated in Les Parisiennes lineup in a 500ml bee bottle for Boutique Guerlain, 68 Champs Elysées, Paris.

Notes for Vétiver Guerlain: orange, bergamot, lemon, neroli, pepper, nutmeg, coriander, capsicum, vetiver, cedar, tobacco, tonka bean.

Modern masculine spins (flankers) on the classic masterpiece proved somewhat lacking: Vétiver Eau Glacée ("Frozen Vetiver") has minty and nutty tonalities, but it lacks the richness of the original. Vétiver Extrême starts with a lathery sportly cleanless, adding a tarragon accent veering into the too herbaceous, while the development is quite oily and sweet due to a licorice background (a trait of many vetiver extracts) or according to Luca Turin "cheap English Leather drydown that would be ideal in furniture polish". (ouch!)

Vétiver Pour Elle by Jean Paul Guerlain, on the other hand, a feminine twist on the classic formula, was issued initially as a limited travel exclusive for people taking flight off Paris airports or railway stations, as a memento of their stay in the City of Light. It was encased in a bottle reminiscent of Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue (with the cap an upside down heart).
The story behind Vétiver pour Elle is that women had been usurping the masculine fragrance from their men and were always nagging Jean Paul to create something comparable for them, so he finally did! Whether that is the truth or whether Guerlain saw the untapped pool of exclusivity afficionados who have become more vocal and more visible due to the Internet is food for thought. In any case the fragrance is lovely and perhaps this proves their marketing radar is razor sharp: the furore around it resulted in its joining Les Parisiennes at the Guerlain Boutique, in the particular bee bottles of the line, as a permanent fixture.

Drawing upon the quiet tenderness of his superb Chant d'Arômes, Jean Paul Guerlain added a soft garland of fresh, green jasmine along with subtler, clean notes of lily of the valley and orange blossom and musks, to circumvent the tobacco backdrop of Vétiver for an added feminine touch, while the skeleton of bergamot, nutmeg and vetiver roots is kept intact in its classical, almost chyprish beauty. The result seems unisex like the enigmatic smile of a Mona Lisa: is it a woman model than we're seeing or the artist merely masqueraded by feminine wiles?

Notes for Vétiver pour Elle: bergamot, lily of the valley, honeysuckle, jasmine, nutmeg, orange blossom, vetiver, tonka bean

Vétiver pour Elle is currently available in the 125ml bee bottle of Les Parisiennes line and can be bought at the 68 Champs Elysées boutique Guerlain, Paris. Use this conctact for inquiries.

Pic of masculine Vetiver (pour lui) ad with the vintage bottle depicted and of the travel edition bottle of Vetiver pour Elle, courtesy of Parfum de Pub.
Pic of Elle McPherson via Cinema-stars.com. Pic of Andy Garcia from the film "The Untouchables", via Geocities.

Vetiver Series: 3.the Historical References ~Carven, Givenchy, Guerlain

Vetiver seriously entered the consciousness of the West at some point in the 19th century, along with its brotherly Indian counterpart patchouli (brought to England in 1850), as exotic plants that smell good and keep precious silk cloths free of insects (nevertheless, vetiver iteself is not immune to the occasional beetle and to termites, in arid regions). Their noli me tangere soft message to moths and other pests made them valuable and prized and their exotic ancenstry the topic of romantic daydreaming about the edges of the Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets.
More importantly, vetiver was purposefully collected and transplanted as a potential agricultural commodity. Like so many other species, vetiver probably formed part of the colonial economic plant exchanges and, somewhere, the records probably still exist. Though these plant exchanges began in earnest around 1500, and continued an ancient tradition, two "hard" dates stand out: 1809 and 1843. In 1809, the first chemical analysis of vetiver oil was done in France on extracts from roots imported from the Indian Ocean island of Réunion, where vetiver is not native. Second, since 1843 a vetiver perfume called Kus Kus has been produced continuously in New Orleans, Louisiana, which in 1803 was purchased from the perfume-loving French by the recently independent United States, where perfumery was then considered elitist and undemocratic. Vetiver occurs in all the old French colonies, and it most likely arrived in Louisiana when it too was French ... vetiver is still most-popular there among people of French descent. The important point is that by 1843, at the very latest, vetiver was in Louisiana at the extreme terminus of global trade routes, up a river as far from home as on earth vetiver could be.
Unlike sugarcane and citrus and other Asiatic plants, Spanish scholars of the Islamic Moors have found no evidence of vetiver arriving in Europe from the Moghul Empire or earlier via greater Arabia and North Africa (and thence to the New World following the Conquistadors and their multitude of plant introductions). In fact, the one place on earth in which vetiver seems historically scarce to non-existent is the fragrance-loving Middle East and North Africa. By one hundred years ago, vetiver seems to have been fairly uniformly distributed, although perhaps thinly, across the tropics, occurring in most if not all countries. It is possible that the ‘Sunshine’ genotype was then reselected in the World War II period as a "strategic material" for perfumes, which is why we now find it almost everywhere[1]

However the story of vetiver-focused fragrances coincides with the modernisation of fragrance wearing and the artificial segregation of feminine and masculine fragrances after WWI. With its fresh, earthy and sometimes woody aroma, vetiver soon became a signal of masculinity. Although the 20s and 30s were les années folles when any bender of societal mores was seen as adventurous, daring and to be tentatively embraced if one could (enter the androgynes), the more conservative times that followed WWII and the advent of the New Look prescribed clear-cut roles: women impecably turned out, talons painted and not a hair out of place, but with a roast ready in the oven and smiling, well-behaved kids in the nursery; men suave in their conservative suits and modest ties, men about business with attache at hand, clean-shaven and well-trimmed on the nape of their fedora-adorned head, a Technicolor vision in 3D.
Those were the 50s!
It might very well be that those women were secretly lamenting their crushed dreams and the hole of fulfilment in their personal lives like a vignette from Pleasantville or a Douglas Sherk melodrama; those men might just be travelling salesmen or con-men, even Cold War agents, clad in their anonymous dark suits, in the pursuit of atomic-bomb data gathering. Never mind; their perceived image will be forever be impecably put-together, down to the last detail, combed and buffed and shining like a new Cadillac in pastel colours smirking at you from across the street.

It was at that precise moment in time when classic vetiver fragrances encapsulated all the desirable qualities of this solid, dependable manhood, minus any really sinister touch but not without their own shade of doubt like one encounters upon viewing something that is suspect of being too good to be true. In a way vetiver-focusing fragrances were a natural progression from classic Eaux de Cologne in that they smelled good, made you feel fresh and were a seal of respectability in most millieux, but not without their own little twist deep down.
Vétiver by Creed was a pre-cursor, coming out in 1948. The three most classical and stellar however had always been the ones under the names of Carven, Givenchy and Guerlain.

One of the first soliradix vetivers was Vetiver by Carven, issued in 1957. Its fresh character bode well with a generation that was optimistic after the vagaries of war, especially in view of the scandalous technological advances and eager to present a fresh outlook on life.
I didn't have the good fortune to smell the original, as it was so far back before my time and although I had a grandmother who wore Carven's Ma Griffe faithfully, my grandfather was loyal to fine fragrances by other houses (notably Givenchy's Gentleman in later years). Therefore it would be difficult to imagine the depth and clarity of the vintage composition going by only the rather pale and limp-wristed version that is circulating now -although pleasantly fresh, it doesn't ring a bell as one of the three greatest classic Vetivers.

Notes for Carven Vetiver:
lemon, lavender, jasmine, vetiver.

Hubert de Givenchy issued his own take on the refreshing earthiness of vetiver two years later, in 1959. A masculine so chic and so straight-foward to the nature of the material itself that it became his own personal favourite and a beacon in the world of perfumery. Luca Turin in his NZZ Folio column ("Grass Roots") had stated a propos:

"Experts agree that the best classical vetiver of all time was Givenchy’s, which never sold well but was kept in production because Hubert de Givenchy wore it. When he passed away, so did the fragrance. Next best was a tie between the strikingly fresh and carefree Carven and the excellent, darker and richer Guerlain. Then came the Lanvin, a bit more cologne-like, and all sorts of no-holds-barred vetivers from niche firms".

He swiftly corrected the mistake in his Perfumes, the Guide, though, while talking about the re-issued fragrance: Hubert de Givenchy hasn't passed away just yet, thank heavens, but he retired from his house in 1995, sadly marking Vétyver's discontinuation. According to Hubert's nephew, although the fragrance was greatly respected among connoiseurs, it was a slow seller and was only kept in production for the sake of his uncle.
Luckily, after 12 years, the re-issue of Givenchy Vétyver in the line Les Parfums Mythiques (relaunched classics in new uniform packaging) is reputedly excellent as it always has been; cause for rejoice among the many perfumephiles who cherish the precious tradition as well as the seal of approval communicated by Turin!
The classic, an understated, well-blended, both classic and classy fragrance starts with citrusy, cooling vetiver quickly segueing to a dusty, smokey rooty aroma, due to its use of three different varieties of the roots. It remains soft, discreet, understatedly luxurious and patrician always, mirroring its patron Hubert de Givenchy ~a man who when interviewed by Harper's Bazzar upon his retirement had exorcised vulgar modern practices with this sad -and very truthful- eulogy:

"Sure, it is head-turning,but one could not step out of the house like that. It's a false image. Balenciaga always told me, 'Hubert, the most important thing when dressing your clients is to be honest.' He was a man with total integrity. We made dresses that women could wear. Today we make dresses to sell handbags, shoes, accessories. When you go down the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, you see only store windows filled with sacks and shoes. What does that mean? I'll tell you what it means: There is no fashion."

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Notes for Givenchy Vétyver:
Top: bergamot and vetiver
Middle: coriander and vetiver
Base: sandalwood and vetiver.
Givenchy Vétyver retails at $65 for a 100ml/2.4oz bottle.
You can read a detailed review of the re-issue on Pere de Pierre.

And then, just when the 50s were slowly exhaling and with Jean Paul Guerlain freshly on the reins of the historical house, Guerlain came up with their own version, Vétiver, which was to become the classic of the classics. It sold so forcibly well, that women everywhere were usurping it from the husbands' and boyfriends' dressers to don it on their own soft curves. But more on that shortly on a seperate review!

Pic of Russell Crowe in film Rough Magic. Pic of Givenchy Vetyver bottle and box courtesy of Fragrantica.
[1]source: the Vetiver Network