Lancome Magie Noire: fragrance review of the perfect Halloween scent

If there is one perfume which conjures up a devilish sorceress in full-wiccan attire it is none other than Lancôme's splendlidly devilish Magie Noire (pronounced ma-zhee nou-ahr and meaning Black Magic) by perfumer-alchemist Gérard Goupy.

Introduced in 1978, Magie Noire is an ardent scent full of insupportable sensuality which projects with the mysterious force of an evil heroine; having you grip your seat with a mix of justified horror and perverse admiration at the same time! Its heady, unsettling base accord acts like velvet or a caressing fur coat that is hiding a knife, its interlay of all the powerhouses base notes (musk, civet, castoreum) a sign of brandishing its bravado like a protective amulet against all odds.
Not to be confused with the 1949 classic Magie (its bottle reprised in the design of Lancôme recents Hypnôse and Hypnôse Senses), Magie Noire was conceived at the wake of Opium's oriental success which took the market by (olfactory) storm and along with exact contemporary Rochas Mystère presented the gutsy, murky mossy alternatives before ultrasweet orientals elbowed them off the central shelves in the 1980s.
The bottle was designed by Pierre Dinand in the same forbidden territories as Opium too: The inspiration being medieval alchemical alembics this time ~instead of Japanese inros~ and covered with cabbalistic signs standing for bismuth, verdigris, sulphur and gold.

Despite its murky depths of oakmoss and patchouli, nevertheless ~which have several perfumephiliacs designate it to the chypre fragrance family~ Magie Noire technically belongs to the woody oriental one.
Starting with an ammoniac opening, which oscillates between the feline and the human, and progressing into a purple fruity overlay over the darkest gothic roses imaginable, Magie Noire is a journey into a noir story that unfolds with each passing minute with a new twist and a new thorn to grab you. The white florals in its heart are not read as such, rather the verdant and sharp greens present themselves at an angle (galbanum and hyacinth amongst them allied to the leathery pungency of castoreum). The drydown of the fragrance is much softer, deliciously mellower and musky-incensy sensual with a microscopic caramel note that is kept on the skin for days.

The fact that several wearers of the original Magie Noire nowadays find it (catastrophically) changed is no illusion: Lancôme actually reworked the formula of Magie Noire when re-releasing it after its brief discontinuation. The 1980s Eau de Parfum and parfum versions were much edgier and headier with a pronounced spiciness and murkiness that could cut through fog like a beacon. The sillage was unforgettable and typhoon-like in its potency with a sex-appeal-oozing-through-pores vibe that could make you or break you: It was a scent that needed to suit your personality in order to work right and on many it didn't. I recall it worn by women with exquisitely coifed hair which seemed like they braved the elements.
Even in its attenuated form today Magie Noire is definitely not a perfume for young girls, not because perfume has an age, but because like a complex grand cru it requires some getting used to and is an acquired taste. Its distinctiveness lends it a special occasion ambience which it exploits to good effect; it would be both a great waste and a sensory overload to use it all the time. On the contrary, savoured drop by drop, it imbues its wearer with the magical charm of an undestructible protective mantle.

Not only Lancôme changed the formula, they also changed the flacons design from time to time, making it a confusing task for chronologising your bottle. I remember the bottle in the 80s was black, following the one depicted in the ads above, while a maroon version also circulated in the 90s. Recently upon its re-introduction Lancôme simplified the bottle into the columnal solid glass with a metallic-looking top depicted below.

Notes for Lancôme Magie Noire: Bergamot, blackcurrant, hyacinth, raspberry, honey, tuberose, narcissus, jasmine, incense, Bulgarian rose, patchouli, vetiver, castoreum, labdanum, musk and civet.

Magie Noire is available on counters and online priced at $55 USD for a 2.5oz/75ml Eau de Toilette and that's the only version Lancôme currently offers. I wish they'd bring back the parfum! There also was the enigmatic huile parfum (perfume oil) version, reputed to emphasize the greener notes, but I have not tried it (yet) to compare with extrait.

Ads via perfume4u.co.uk and pays.dignois.com. Glass flacon via Lancome.ca. Maroon bottle pic via qb.org.nz. Sorceress illustration via mythicmktg.fileburst

Balenciaga Paris: new fragrance

A while ago we had been thrilled by the choice of Charlotte Gainsbourg, shot by Steven Meisel, as the new face of the upcoming Balenciaga signature women’s scent, due out in February in Europe (March and April for Asia). Called Balenciaga Paris, it is the first fragrance authored by Balenciaga and Coty Inc., a partnership which began in 2008.
“We’ve been basically out of [the fragrance] business for almost 15, 20 years,” said Isabelle Guichot, Balenciaga president and chief executive officer. “It was important for us to wait until the right moment to really express ourselves back in the industry.” "The aim is to make Balenciaga Paris into a new classic", said Ghesquière and something tells me they're eyeing the uber-success of Narciso Rodriguez For Her in that regard, especially in view of the family in which they're positioning their scent, more of which below. The Balenciaga portfolio included excellent, elegant and distinctive scents (right down to the early 80s Michelle), making this a tall order. Despite the relatively restrained distribution (about 2000 doors worldwide) the expectations run to 90 million $ during the first year, so I would assume that the scent should reflect a wide acceptance potential, especially since Nicolas specified they aimed to reach a wider audience than the one they reach with their accessories.

Right off the bat, I should start by saying that regarding any name conflict which one might be thinking is afoot between the new Balecianga Paris and the classic YSL Paris from the 1980s, we shouldn't hold our breath: As discussed with my collaborator AlbertCan, YSL Beaute and Balencianga both belong to PPR (otherwise known as Gucci Group) which makes a legal case nonsensical as the compensation would come out of the same pocket. Additionally according to the Fragrance Foundation and Michael Edwards, YSL registered their own scent as "Paris d'Yves Saint Laurent" so "Balenciaga Paris" is probably marginally different enough to make the cut. YSL is busy promoting their own Parisienne right now, so the more Paris is heard in fragrance names the better. But enough about the name!

Balenciaga's house designer Nicolas Ghesquière took the plunge for the first time in fragrance launching aided by the young but talented perfumer Olivier Polge (Jacques Polge's of Chanel son) of IFF. The idea for the scent was mining on favourite smells Nicolas could think of and then arranging it in the "both artistic and mathematical process" that creating a scent is all about, according to him. His memory banks contained floor wax and flowers (violet and carnation), plus more urban odors, like gasoline, according to Caroline Javoy, group vice president of Balenciaga, Chloé and Jil Sander at Coty.

Ghesquière said he wanted to give the floral fragrance a contemporary “twist” with something urban and slightly “metallic.” Early on, it was decided Balenciaga’s first scent would be in the floral chypre family — specifically, a violet chypre. “Violet has been used in the fragrance industry for years, but normally more for the powdery effect,” said Javoy. “What Olivier did here was use the fresh, natural effect of violet leaves, and what’s new also is that the violet is really at the core of the fragrance.” Polge integrated redistilled woods, such as cedar and patchouli, too. “It is not a romantic floral,” said Ghesquière. “It’s definitely the mix of tradition and something quite contemporary and urban.”

A violet chypre might recall Balmain's Jolie Madame, but I deduce we're not faced with such a deliciously old-fashioned prospect for various reasons having to do with tastes, focus groups et al. A propos the violet discussion, might I remind readers once again that violet as a note bears absolutely no similarity to violet leaves, as both the materials used to render them as well as the olfactory profile of the ingredients and the composed accords have very little relation, if at all. Violet leaves are par excellence used in masculine colognes for their cucumber-like green metallic freshness which shimmers most suavely in Eau de Cartier.




In the ads for Balenciaga Paris, the left-hand color shot is a still life including the fragrance and a column and an egg, architectural and fashion references. In the right-side, black-and-white image, Charlotte Gainsbourg sits on a Spanish patio (alluding to Balenciaga’s place of origin), while the black-and-white marble floor is a nod to the original Balenciaga boutique design in Paris. The pattern of the prism on the bottle itself (alluding to the plinths and portals in Balenciaga boutiques) and the cracked egg effect on the cap (referencing Italian design from the 1980s, 18th-century enameled vases and the graphics of Balenciaga’s vintage fabrics; or a classic football ball, take your pick!) present themselves as vintage touches seen through the porthole of a modern creation.

“White and ivory are two strong Balenciaga colors,” said Ghesquière. “I wanted this fragrance to be a little character. It has a head, a neckline and a body.” Balenciaga Paris’ streamlined outer packaging harkens back to the brand’s vintage boxes for fragrances (largely out of distribution), such as Le Dix.

In France, the 30-ml. eau de parfum spray will sell for 57 euros, or $84.45; the 50-ml. eau de parfum, for 75 euros, or $111.15, and the 75-ml. eau de parfum, for 94 euros, or $139.25. Ancillaries include a 200-ml. shower gel and a 200-ml. body lotion, for 37 euros and 40 euros, or $54.80 and $59.25, respectively.

Quotes & bottle pic from "Balenciaga Returns to the Fragrance Game" article by Jennifer Weil on WWD. Ad from the Spring 2009 fashions through fashionista.com

Naomi Campbell raises a stink?

The famous supermodel is accused of cutting her longtime associates out of their profits share in her eponymous celebrity scents brand.

"Moodform Mission is a partnership of Campbell's former London modeling agents and a cosmetics outfit based in Miami Beach, Fla. The firm worked for years _ even designing the perfume bottles _ to line up a 1998 fragrance deal for Campbell with a German company that later became part of Procter & Gamble Co., said Moodform Mission lawyer Daniel R. Bright.[..]The lawsuit, filed late Monday, said Campbell violated a 1998 contract with Moodform Mission by inking a new fragrance-licensing agreement, costing the company a portion of the proceeds from such scents as Naomi Campbell, Cat Deluxe and Seductive Elixir." [source and reproduced] The reputation of Naomi Campbell for fiesty episodes enters the equation in both articles, despite it having nothing to do with legal actions. Campbell herself is confident of winning the case. It remains to be seen.

Pic of Naomi Campbell via blog.singersroom.com

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

Amidst the fragrances that Gabrielle Bonheur (Coco) Chanel commisioned, No.46 stands as something of a largely unknown enigma. When Ernest Beaux had presented samples to Coco for her choosing for her first perfume launch, he had prepared 10 of them in total, numbered from 1 to 5 and from 20 to 24. Among them, No.5 and No.22 were the winning contestants, issued on 1921 and 1922 respectively. Fragrances so elevated by the diffusion of their aldehydic pitch that they became synonymous with the genre forever after. A little on their left, the refined, gracefully soft aldehydic floral which was released much later; in 1946, at the end of the war. No.46 recalls most vividly the ambience of the classic No.5 that cemented the popularity of futuristic, "frozen" bouquets, while remaining surrounded by other obscure scents with digits on them like fairy godmothers: No.11, No.14, No.20, No.21 and No.55...



The timing for the release of No.46 is crucial in its critical appraisal and its positioning in fragrance history. Despite the fashion genius of Chanel being “incorruptibly sober and pure”, as per her biographer Edmonde Charles-Roux, her life presented certain disputable facets that cast a shadow on the image of the "women's liberator from fashion's oppression" and Evangelist of Style. (Even today, Audrey Tautou who impersonated her in the 2009 film Coco avant Chanel mentioned this early feminist "manifesto" as grounds for accepting the role.) Coco had been self-exiled in Switzerland since 1945, her perfume royalties into exile with her for a decade as well, following the tempestuous reception that accompanied her affair with Hans Gunther von Dincklage; a German officer 13 years her junior ~she was 56 at the time~ and alleged Nazi spy by the nickname "the sparrow", who had arranged for her to remain at the famous Ritz Hotel suite which Coco had made into her wartime abode (and her "real" home for 3 decades, as opposed to her Rue Cambon appartment where she received guests). Additionally, the dubious Operation Modelhut, in which she was implicated, was based on the idea that one of Chanel's friends would pass a letter from her, suggesting secret negotiations furthering the end of war, to Winston Churchill.

“This woman was referred to as a person Churchill knew sufficiently to undertake political negations with him, as an enemy of Russia and as desirous of helping France and Germany whose destinies she believed to be closely linked together.” [according to the Schellenberg interrogation transcripts]

Yet unlike women collaborators who had had their hair shorn in public humiliations or Diana Mitford, Lady Mosley (Hitler's Angel) and Unity (Valkyrie) Mitford, forever associated with the Third Reich, Coco Chanel remained untarnished by repercussions (she was arrested but soon released). No doubt she had taken advantage of her connections, as was her custom: It was a rich boyfriend who helped her open her own clothing boutique in 1913; it was Vera Bate Lombardi who established her name amongst European royalty and through which she met ~her almost husband~ the Duke of Westminster and who possibly served as the connection to Churchill; and it was one of her unnamed powerful liaisons who made if possible for her to escape punishment or humiliation for her past.
The cool reception that the French reserved for her 1956 runway comeback terming it obsolete neverthless was testament to how they hadn't forgotten... Luckily for her, however, it was the Anglosaxons (in the guise of Americans mostly) who loved her little black dresses (they still do!) and thus helped her progressively obliterate the bad memories.

It was during those troubled years of WWII that Chanel had tried to wrest control of her fragrances from the Jewish manufacturers ~the Wertheimer family who own them to this day and also controlled Bourjois~ exploiting the pro-Aryan laws to her benefit. (The Wertheimers owned 70% of the house, Theodile Bader of Galleries Lafayette who introduced Coco to them was rewarded with 20% and Chanel herself only held 10%). As a result, the perfumes conceived in the time frame surrounding WWII are rumoured to generally have a striking resemblance to her already successful 20s and 30s creations, probably in an attempt to reposition herself in the fragrance producing pantheon as an independent entity. Little is known of them, but the time framing bears significance as in 1954 the Wetheimers came to an agreement with Chanel for her to reliquinsh all control to them in exchange for having her personal expenses taken care of for life (It took 17 years).

The way that a little No.46 came into my hands is episodic and worthy of recounting à la Lafontaine: Once upon a time, (then) Florentine-bound Liisa Wennervirta had come across and purchased a full stoppered bottle of said perfume on an auction site, about which she asked my opinion and info after the fact. Certain details had been negatively indicative to its authenticity (or so I thought at the time) and the cynical/distrustful in me sighed a bit inwardly (I repeat this was after the fact) because I really like Liisa, had followed the scandals by Polkadot Patty a couple of years ago and would really flinch if she had been scammed. On the other hand, if it was a fake I would be supremely curious to see how someone would venture into even attempting it and would admire his/her serious cojones despite my disgust at the practice. Liisa sent me some to try out and it transpired that it was against all odds seriously delightful juice!
As Liisa herself said: "It's not that grandma-style rose like Penhaligon's Elizabethan Rose, nor that sweet, slightly sickening rose of Nahema or Mahora in extrait version, it's warm, spicy, carnation-y and slightly reminds me of Fleur de Feu but after a while it mellows to sweet musky calmness. Something that I badly miss among Les Exclusifs."

The opening of Chanel No.46 boldly reveals the penchant of the brand into producing abstractions of an arresting grace. It is redolent of the ambience of No.5 quite vividly, to the point that a lover of one might instantly recognise sub-themes in the structure of the other, like a student of baroque fugues recognising the intermingling motifs across several bars of music. At the time however No.5 hadn't acquired the cult status it has today being instantly recognisable across continents. The basic chord which echoes throughout No.46 seems to be the rose, ylang-ylang, carnation/lily (a hint of spice) and musks (two parts of this harmony form the main basso continuo of No.5, anyway, especially in vintage parfum form and the defunct Eau de Cologne version). This is underscored by a soapy-mossy feeling that recalls retro grooming products to my memory. The musks are especially rich and radiant, emitting warmth and a subtle come-hither.

In its way, Chanel No.46 is firmly placed in the tradition of its times too, while echoing an established success: Smelling it alongside L'Air du Temps (1948) (its carnation tinge plus aldehydic-salicylate facets), the more orientalised Fath de Fath (the original 1953 version, not the 1993 reformulation) with its intensely musky base, or the delicate bouquet of Coeur Joie by Nina Ricci (1946), one is not hard-pressed to understand the greater need for fragrances that presented a refined and genteel ambience of ladies who eased back into their feminine endeavours after the more androgynous occupations of the war days. All without eschewing their animal instincts...

Notes for Chanel No.46:
Top: bergamot, orange and neroli
Heart: rose, lily of the valey, ylang-ylang and jasmine
Base: vetiver, orris, sandalwood, coumarine, vanilla and musk

Needless to say, it's a very rare fragrance and your only chance for a bottle would be buying off a collector.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Chanel reviews & news, Vintage scents

Pic of No.46 by Liisa Werenvita used with permission by Perfume Shrine. Photo of Gabrielle Chanel in 1909 scanned from Edmonde Charles Roux book 2004, p.62. Photo of Diana and Unity Mitford saluting the Nazi way via wikimedia commons.

Le Cherche Midi: fragrance reviews & Gift Set giveaway

Le Cherche Midi, a niche brand that provides Eaux de Toilette alongside matching candles and fragrant "cubes" for home fragrancing, translates as "found moments" and its origins echo the welcome respite that the tucked-away Rue du Cherche Midi in the Left Bank of Paris offered to the wanderers of its cosmopolitan alleyways. The desire to capture that serene ambience and translate it into something tangible motivated Nathan Motylinski and Alex Mehfar, who bought the original Parisian brand and re-branded Le Cherche Midi in 2006 into what it is today. (an interesting video on Candles Off Main TV is here).

I humbly admit that I was oblivious to their very existence till very recently. They were a finalist for the 2008 Fifi Awards for Interior Scent and won the 2008 Best Off Main Awards for Most Luxurious Candle Line and Best Gift over $50, so I should have known, shouldn't I? Therefore I got a real kick out of testing their entire portfolio and photographing their glorious candles set. (Depicted is the Les Voyages gift set which retails for $150 and includes six 25+ hour candles, one in each fragrance in the current collection, which I am giving away to one lucky reader, along with a full set of samples for another reader, so comment if you'd like to be included in the drawing!) It's needless to say how rustically and yet elegantly luxurious the reusable wooden box feels and how pleasing to the eye, you can feast yours on it: a picture speaks a thousand words! The Eaux de Toilette are austere, spartan glass bottles similarly encased in wooden packaging, very vintage-wine-style. Personally I'm a sucker for such presentations (and an oenophiliac), so half the game is won simply because of the lovely visuals. But the great thing is the fragrances ~with their numerical "names" and colour coding~ are very nice too! Complex, deep, evocative and multi-dimensional, they can be used as the beautiful soundtrack of your home existence or can be portable forms of intelligence for when you want to take them on a journey on your skin.

From the selection I was pleasantly surprised by the unexpected beauty of No.9, a rich and addictive floriental with a noticeable (and delectable) soft note of lavender on top and a vanillic base, which manages to smell both soothing like a baby cologne and enticing like something meant for adults. It makes for a sexy fragrance to scent your bedsheets before some romping à deux, which I guess is not really antithetical to the cocooning idea; on the contrary! Also wonderful is No.20, a peppery and mossy-leathery alloy which fits with my autumnal mood that yearns for decaying leaves fallen on muddy puddles and the pungent smell of the earth after a roaring thunderstorm. It would make both a supreme masculine/unisex scent (with just a touch of sweetness and lemon zest to balance things out) and a home surrounding aroma, woodies being the par excellence olfactory touch to make even then most mundane little appartment smell like a gentlemen's club study-and-cigars-room out of a James Ivory film. They both lasted exceptionally well too, whiffs caught on skin by morning after an evening application.
Other scents that caught my eye were No.21, a delicious tart, dark berry and evergreens scent underscored by rich spices which brings the atmosphere of a winter fête a little closer in season; and No.57, aimed at capturing "a New York state-of-mind" with its soft powdery aroma with limpid tonalities.

No.1 is a pleasant driftwood and lavender scent that started it all (it was the first product of Le Cherche Midi), which will appeal to those who appreciate Preparation Parfumée by Andrée Putman (minus the peppery start of the latter), while No.14 is the only "fruity" in the line, evoking tangerines just out of the bowl and hologramming in front of you in their happy costumes. A little too simple for my taste, but not sugary which is a plus.
The only one I didn't like at all was No.5, its "clean" ambience said to mimic garden parties and fresh laundry relying heavily on the (personally) dreaded hydromyrcenol note and the hydroponic-freesia soapy accent of several detergent-like florals au courant. It has something of the tonality of Sécretions Magnifiques, ( a scent which reminds me of an operating theater), which unfortunately unfolds right after the interesting top redolent of bitter absinth. It was interesting ~and a little scary~ to note that it had tremendous tenacity too. Ah well, we can't like everything...
CT01 was a limited edition which I believe is out of stock now; its hazy, fluffy sage note is an intriguing touch amidst the vetiver-cool backdrop of an early spring morning.

Le Cherche Midi offers each scent in various forms for the home and the skin: same scent, different technology. They explain:

"Application of fragrance plays a vital role in formulating and
fine-tuning the technical aspects of a fragrance formula. Every product requires
a unique fragrance oil formulation, depending on what the fragrance oil will be
mixed with. For example, we have three different formulas and oils for Le
Cherche Midi No 09 - one for each of our products: eau de toilette,
candle and Fragrance Cube. Even though all the oils smell the same, they are
constructed with different materials and solvents to be able to mix and perform
with other chemicals and compounds. Here, the perfumer’s knowledge of chemistry
helps take the creative concept and make practical solutions".

The fragrant cube, for instance, is a new product in which the wooden top soaks up the fragrance to diffuse the scent without spilling or the need for reeds.
The bulk of the fragrances by Le Cherche Midi are created by Cécile Hua, a Marseille-born French perfumer and chemist living in New York, who dreamed of her career in perfumery since she was a child. The first recipient of the Fashion Group International ‘Rising Star Award’ for the Fragrance Design category in 2003, she went on to create several fine fragrances for big houses. The exceptions in the line are 20, composed by Bertrand Dor, and CT01 by Octavia Jordan.

Notes for Le Cherche Midi 01: Sicilian Bergamot, Sage, Lavender, Freesia, Mint, Oakmoss, Driftwood, White Amber, Sand Musk
Notes for Le Cherche Midi 05: Absinthe Flower, Cyclamen, Hyacinth, Fresh Cut Grass, Clean Laundry, White Lilac, Pine, Galbanum, Tonka Beans, White Musk
Notes for Le Cherche Midi 09: Lemon Meringue, Lily of the Valley, Night Blooming Jasmine, Whipped Lavender Crème, Patchouli, Soft Amber, Sandalwood, Vanilla Absolute
Notes for Le Cherche Midi 14: Mandarin Leaves, Blackcurrant, Water Lilies, Rhubarb, Peonies, Rose Buds, Orange Absolute, White Cedar, Musk
Notes for Le Cherche Midi 20: Armoise, Bergamot, Lemon Zest, Black Pepper, Rose Water, Soft Cedarwood, Sandalwood, Dark Amber
Notes for Le Cherche Midi 21: Grapefruit, Blackberry, Golden Saffron, Cardamom, Cinnamon FLower, Carnation, Sandalwood, Leather, Skin Musk
Notes for Le Cherche Midi 57 (a Bergdorf Goodman exclusive): White Tea, Rhubarb Leaves, Pink Laurel, Cherry Blossom, Casablanca Lily, Cyclamen, Vetíver, Amber Crème, White Moss Vanilla.
Notes for Le Cherche Midi CT01 (a collaboration with designer Costello Tagliapietra): Sicilian Bergamot, Sage, Lavender, Freesia, Mint, Oakmoss, Driftwood, White Amber, Sand Musk.

Prices range from 39$ to 50$. You can watch videos with Cécile Hua on the inspiration for the scents on the very well-designed site of Le Cherche Midi where there is also an online boutique and the offer of free swatches.
Enter code SHRINE30 when checking out to gain a 30% discount!!! (non affiliated)

Please enter a comment if you want to be in the drawing for:
1)The luxurious set of candles in its wooden crate pictured (this is heavy stuff, so I'm spoiling you rotten on shipping costs!)
2)A complete set of samples by Le Cherche Midi
Submissions valid till Sunday 1st November midnight and I will draw two random winners shortly thereafter.



All photographs by Elena Vosnaki.
In the interest of disclosure, I was sent the samples as well as the candles for the giveaway directly from the manufacturer.

Germaine Cellier (1909-1976): Innovator and Iconoclast

In the pantheon of great modern perfumers it is not often that we come across women, at least during the first half of the 20th century. Amongst them, one star shines brightest, that of Germaine Cellier; untrammeled by convention, free-spirited in an era that frowned upon most of her customs, but which could not deny her bold, ebullient approach to perfumery. It is no accident that Guy Robert's book, Les Sens du Parfum, himself the stuff of legend, dedicates precious space to her opus.

Her wit wondrously helped her into coming up with stunning compositions: The galbanum-souled Vent Vert by Balmain with its biting verdancy forever changing the visage of florals, the knife-scathing outlaw of Bandit with its intense leathery bitterness of quinolines in 1944, the oriental passport of Visa in 1946, the buttery radiance of tuberose in 1948's Fracas (all three for Robert Piguet), the nostalgic violet chypre Jolie Madame for Balmain (1953) which reworked the Bandit theme in more muted tones, as well as the masculine Monsieur Balmain which proved a success with both sexes.

One of her mysteriously disappearing acts is "Elysées 63.84" for Balmain, the name standing for the telephone number of the couture house, as well as a geranium-based Eau which Pierre Balmain fiercely guarded for his own use. For Nina Ricci she collaborates with Christian Bérard who designed the romantic heart flacon in Coeur Joie, an elegant and uncharacteristically delicate floral aldehydic of great refinement (1946). For Nina Ricci she also composes Fille d'Eve, with its "dirty hair" cistus note. Hers is the lesser known, but none the less majestic, La Fuite des Heures for Balenciaga in 1949, a Provençal herbs and jasmine formula of great radiance and tenacity. Among her portfolio there is also the agrestic Eau d'Herbes (Herbal Water) conceived for Hermès at an unspecified date during the 1950s meant to recreate just cut herbs, which remains an enigma, and several compositions for Elizabeth Arden for distribution in the USA during the 1950s and 1960s. (Click the links for my reviews on the scents) ....

This is part of a fuller article that was published on Fragrantica.com. For a comprehensive glimpse into one of the truly great perfumers of modern perfumery, please read my full article on this permalink.

Photo portrait of Germaine Cellier via xiangshuiblog.cn

Sign of the Times (and a Little Rant)

When reading upon perfume boards one comes across an involved discussion by numerous perfume lovers about fragrances that could be aptly described by the rather ghastly term "fruitchouli", you realise that something is quite rotten in the kingdom of Perfumistadom! You might expect Tina Turner to get out the saxophones and break into "We don't need another hero fruitchouli" (beyond Thunderdom) and if you feel that way I can't blame you; who can? Three quarters of the market (at least the mainstream sector, but not exclusively) are inundated by the plague of fruitchoulis that walked the path that Angel paved and later Narciso Rodriguez diverted a bit. Talk about a snowball. But let's start at the top!

The very term "fruitchouli" was coined by an undentified perfume lover Mbanderson61, exasperated by the abysmall unoriginality that the fragrance market displays for some years now, churning out a flood of releases that mimic each other in a frenzied pace. The two main elements seem to be sweet fruity notes (a sad remnant of the anemic 90s where pastel fruits were left to substantiate "airy" or "watery" notes) and the newly refound note of patchouli, buffed and sanitized out of its hippy references and ready for its close-up, mr. De Mille. Hence the brilliance of the coinage of "fruitchouli"! It's surpemely evocative of the current trend.

Personally I would differentiate between the archetypal Angel and its clones/upstarts/homages (Angel Innocent, CK Euphoria, Coco Mademoiselle, Lolita Lempicka, Flowerbomb, Prada, Cacharel Liberté, Miracle Forever, Hypnôse and Hypnôse Senses, Nuits de Noho, Coromandel, New Haarlem...) and some other popular fragrances with patchouli, a family inaugurated by Narciso For Her (namely Lovely, Midnight Poison, YSL Elle, Gucci by Gucci, Chypre Fatal, Citizen Queen, Lady Vengeance, Perles de Lalique, Agent Provocateur...).
I would classify the former into gourmand orientals ~they're generally quite sweet and the fruitiness is more distinct, often underlined with vanilla/caramel/marshmallow/foody notes etc. The latter I would classify into floral woodies/"nouveau chypres" (technically the "new pink chypre" genre IS a floral woody; patchouli & vetiver base is considered a woody base). Michael Edwards classifies them in a seperate family within chypres (mossy woods) as well.

Making a conscious effort to sample and think about several new releases lately, I found myself bored beyond belief at the sameness encountered and my reluctancy to even bother putting a few words together for the benefit of the casual reader searching for opinions on the latest; such was the disappointment and ennui. From the uniform look, uniform style of the new Anthology line by Dolce & Gabbana to the inoffesive lappings of sweet nothings of Ricci Ricci (pity, the bottle is fabulous!) to the vinyl and "flat" rosechouli of the new Parisienne, all the way through the generic Idole d'Armani, I didn't feel myself moved beyond a cursory spray or two. When you have dedicated a personal site to fragrances and are writing on them professionally as well, this does forebode very gravely...
It's not the lack of artistry or technique in the execution of an idea, as some releases are competent. It's the idea itself that has become mundane, tired, overdone, vulgar; even though it seemed like a nice concept all those years ago! Like waking up in some Heaven where all the girls and boys look like Grace Kelly and David Beckham with a perpetual smile on their faces and delicious macrobiotic 4-course food is served at 12 sharp by white-gloved valets. After a while you just long to bring a scruffy Johny Depp and his Nabisco saltine crackers in bed, don't you!

Perhaps the most brilliant suggestion and new term/classification proposed comes from Perfume of Life's long-time member Mando who exclaims humorously (and expectantly): "I think the next wave should be "bootichouli" - chypres heavy with civet accents". If Beyoncé and Jennifer Lopez have bootylicious down pat and Kim Kardashian is famous for her derrière as well, then let's all pray that "bootichouli" can be the new trend in fragrances. Why not? It does present some technical problems, as civet is not exactly the most easy or ethical essence to harvest, but in an age where everything can be replicated in the lab using nano-technology-this and infra-technology-that, the illusion becomes much more of a reality (And there is already synthetic civetone). But that's besides the point really: The point is enough is enough! There is a ripe audience for a skanky new genre and we're cornering an increasing share of the market. Please hear us roar!

Art: Baloon Dog by Jeff Koons via flavorpill and
photo by Jemima Stelhi via files.list.co.uk

Mathilde Laurent Responds to Perfume Shrine's Questions (& a little on Cartier Les Heures du Parfum)

Most of you are familiar with Mathilde Laurent through her early work at Guerlain, when as a young graduate of ISIPCA, under the aegis of Jean Paul Guerlain she created her modern epics, faithful to the patrimony of papa Jacques: Her Guet Apens (later re-issued as Attrape Coeur, the whole entangled story can be read on this link) is one of the most celebrated "new Guerlains" among cognoscenti, in the degree that it reflects a true Guerlain character, yet is resolutely of its own era.

Her Shalimar Eau Légère, reviewed and cherised on these pages, is another one which takes the best of tradition and injects it with the saturated hues and bold lines of a contemporary Francis Bacon painting. Like her artistic idol Camille Claudel ~as divulged to Marian Bendeth on a Basenotes project last year~ Mathilde appreciates modernity coupled with sensitivity and creativity.
Pamplelune with its sunny grapefruit side is, surprisingly enough for its daring sulfurous mien, still a Guerlain best-seller and one of two Aqua Allegorias (a sub-line in the Guerlain portfolio with lighter, less complex scents) which has remained in production ever since introduction of the line, the other being Herba Fresca with its surprising take on mint. (Her other creations in the Aqua Allegoria line included Ylang et Vanille and Rosa Magnifica) At some point, Mathilde Laurent left Guerlain to spread her wings unto greener pastures, including a brief stint at jeweler André Gas in 2006 (for the Polynesian tropical scent Ensoleille-Moi) and the current in-house perfumer position at the venerable Cartier headquarters, where she is composing bespoke scents (Sources place the price for juice to last 3-5 years up to 60,000 euros or $75,500). Her masculine, (again) mint-ladden Roadster for the mainstream jewellery house release last year has graced our pages and was considered a successful entry, poised most wisely between commerciability and artistic merit. Mathilde's talent is undisputed, her desire and ambition to compliment the art of perfumery with a decisive and landmarking contribution nevertheless is laudable. For her "perfume is a message, an expression of oneself" and a perfumer is "a sillagiste!"

I took the invitation that Elisa de Feydeau kindly opened for her francophone readers and asked Mathilde a couple of questions which she was most gracious to reply to. For the benefit of our English-speaking readers, here are her answers.

My first question had to do with something I had read in Perfumes, the Guide, a quote by Luca Turin in his Pamplelune review, in which he equated Laurent's turning to bespoke perfumery to "the saddest waste of human talent since Rimbaud decided to study engineering" (If this isn't praise, I don't know what is!). I was wondering whether the foreboding feeling created by this remark in my mind had come to a reversal through the new line Les Heures du Parfum for Cartier (a high-end project more on which below) and whether she was hopeful that the new line would open a dialogue between herself and perfume lovers; those Others beyond the scope of the mega-rich who have the means to order their very own perfume. After all, as revealed by Jean Claude Ellena to us before, custom perfumery runs the risk of inadvertdly "deceiving" the customer.

Mathilde Laurent herself had explained the bespoke process in the past in very clear terms: "Together (with the client), we explore scents associated with meaningful life experiences, from pleasant childhood recollections to a present image the client wishes to project. We transpose the Cartier style, a perfectly studied simplicity, into the scent. Just a few carefully selected high-grade ingredients are blended, so that each essence remains distinctive, not lost in a hazy combination." In the pursuit of good materials, she's relentless: "I look for the truly exceptional, the atypical, the never-before-seen" (The floral extracts used cost about $5,000 per kilogram, or $142 per ounce). "The provenance of the flower, its rarity where it was bred, the manner of extracting its essence, the climatic conditions that year, all are taken into account."
In hindsight Mathilde appreciates Luca Turin's accolades enormously: "He was among the first to support me and encourage me". She terms the bespoke service "a step, a detour in order to get someplace else". "I could never imagine not creating for The Others", she reveals, although she's quick to point out that "bespoke perfumery is for me a wonderful means to be close to those who love and wear perfume and to push the envelope regarding experimentation on new accords, to test and increase one's creativity and one's technique. Bespoke perfumery acts as a complimentary course for me, it nourishes my work on other projects. I hope that Cartier's Les Heures du Parfum will generate a dialogue with people wearing them, since for me perfume is a message that the skin diffuses, I am always interested in expression, perfume is always destined for the Other".

Another issue that is burning perfume lovers and the industry itself with the intensity of a surgical laser is the pressing issue of restrictions on perfumery ingredients. (You can read a recap and personal thoughts with a minimum of emotional sidekicks on this link and on that one). Mathilde Laurent proved to me to be both practical and wise: "Regarding the perfumery materials which are restricted from our palette, I pretend they never existed. Nevertheless, I continue to search for the effect they present, even though it might be considered a tad Utopian; to substitute with other ingredients and combinations. One must always start from scratch and search, search...Having "come of age" at Guerlain however {she started apprenticeship there at the tender age of 23, going to exotic places and learning about ingredients with the very best} I have intimately known all of those precious materials before they were rationed and their effect has most definitely marked me. I do keep them in memory, always!" Hopefully, with creative minds such as Mathilde's, even the parsimonious palette of essences that is left to perfumers can take a new shape and be utilized in a novel syntax that have been left unatttured till now. The future is here and it is brave!
As to her own pleasure, Mathilde has left herself to be seduced by her latest creation for Cartier XIII La Treizième Heure, a smoky leathery composition, even though she declares she never wears perfume on her free time (Her other rare ~she stresses~ indulgunce is Guet Apens). After all, she hopes to instigate a discourse, not a monologue, and I hope she will always succeed in doing that!

Les Heures du Parfum by Cartier are set to be 13 fragrances in the "neo-niche" mold of luxury brands such as Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences, boutique Guerlain scents, Armani Prive, Van Cleef & Arpels etc. (material-oriented compositions, uniform bottles, limited distribution). Cartier touts them as 'one really haute collection of fragrances for connoisseurs' to commemorate . The scents take on Latin numbers instead of names to reflect the digits on the famous Cartier watches, plus a lucky number thirteen in honour of the number of la maison Cartier's first address at 13 Rue de la Paix in Paris. They are to be spaced out in a period of a few years. The first five are coming out this November on the 10th in 35 Cartier boutiques all around the world. Eau de Parfum in 75 ml flacons for 250 dollars (Chayaruchama told me they're already at Saks in New York City, so New Yorkers take note and report back!).

Fragrance Notes for Les Heures du Parfum according to Grain de Musc (who got them straight from the horse's mouth and is enthused):

I – L’Heure Promise (The promised hour): a green iris with petitgrain, fresh herbs, sandalwood and musk.
VI – L’Heure Brillante (The shining hour): a bright aldehydic citrus cocktail with lemon, lime and a gin accord. X – L’Heure Folle (The crazy hour): an aldehydic fruity green with redcurrant, pink pepper, grenadine (pomegranate syrup), blueberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, violet, leafy notes, ivy, boxwood, shiso, polygonum (=knotweed)
XII – L’Heure Mystérieuse (The mysterious hour): a woody floral with jasmine, patchouli, elemi, coriander, incense, olibanum, juniper.
XIII -La Treizième Heure (The 13th hour): a sweet leather with maté tea, birch tar, narcissus, bergamot, patchouli and vanilla.

Portrait of Mathilde Laurent via Basenotes, images4.hiboox.com and luxuryculture, Cartier bottles via punmiris.com

The winners of the draw...

....for the Travalo atomisers are:
Melisand61, AuditDiva, BeautyBitch, Tara, Violetnoir. Congrats!

Please mail me with your shipping address along with the colour of your choice (gold, silver or pink) using the contact email on Profile, so I can forward it to the distributor who will have your prize in the mail soon.

Thanks everyone for playing so nicely and till the next one!

La Prairie Life Threads: fragrance reviews

It's not too often that I do "custom" reviews, and before you get any nasty thoughts (we're an independent blog here!), I mean requests from my readers. I had presented the new trifecta Life Threads by La Prairie (with a little historical comparison as to precious metals and fragrance associations) and emails started flooding my inbox asking me for my opinion on them. After replying to one or two directly, I thought you might all get a kick if I embarked on a more detailed coverage, so here I am.

If you have any modernist streak running through you, the hard-wired and Lucite La Prairie bottles display will recalimbrate your vision on where modern art can appear: Apparently apart from MOMA or The Tate, it can be hosted at your local La Prairie counter too! There was some version of plastic paneling in packaging before, notably in Roberto Cavalli scents (Just Her, Just Him) but it was done in a completely plastic-fantastic "I'm a Barbie Girl" sort of manner that defied good taste really. The La Prairie bottles take those wires and coil them round your neck tightly if you even begin to think that they're cheap: They most assuredly are not and they look ever so much better up close.

The trilogy is set to be a "provocative portfolio of fragrances [that] speaks to the different dimensions of a woman, rich with entanglements, connections and mysteries waiting to be unraveled". Reassuringly, they're not especially provocative, in the degree that you won't be rubbing your eyes "whoa! where did this come from?", however they are all polished, competent compositions that exhibit good intentions.

I was overall most impressed with Silver which is the woody floral in the triumvirate. Expansive and with an engulfing white floral heart (indolic jasmine and lots of creamy tuberose) it radiates with the same razor-sharp pitch over off-the-cholesterol-chart butteriness which Fracas does so well, thanks to the inclusion of peppery and green elements (think spicy vetiver and unidentified mossy notes, probably in synch with the upcoming IFRA44th regularions). Lovers of Tom Ford's Velvet Gardenia might also want to give it a whirl, because it shares the proper mushroom-like ambience of the real blossoms and a butyric character right out of the clotted cream recipes cookbook of Julia Child ("The best time for diet food is while waiting for the steak to get done" ~I can identify with that!). March over at Perfume Posse put it succintcly when testing it: "It was like running errands in a silk peignoir and ostrich mules. It is deeply fabulous, if very much not me, although I kind of want it to be me".

Gold is certainly shaping up to be the crowd-pleaser in the range, as it hits all the right spots for most of the consumers: it starts citrusy (mandarine, but not orchard-rich), is a little sweet (but not tooth-achingly so, an accomplishment), it's a little orientalised (but will not end you being sold in a harem), it's a little spicy (but no uncle Serge peeking through with handfuls of cumin at the ready to be thrown up your nose). The solar notes and the ylang-ylang heart compliment each other well and the solemn, yet warm note of myrrh is infusing the whole. Is a perfume that is programatically set to deny excess in any aspect worth it, you might ask. Well, in some small way it is. I wouldn't pick it as my first choice over other beloved orientals, but to make an analogy, like Yves Saint Laurent's misunderstood Cinéma it's a pleasant example of the genre that shouldn't be ashamed of itself.
Although advertised as an "elegant and edgy chypre" (a category I am especially simpatico to), Platinum didn't grab me, nor did I find it edgy. I hear it is marketed as unisex, which is a novel idea, the other two being so femme focused. There is radiance, but also a little shrill quality about it, which manifests itself in the clash of the cucumber-smelling violet leaves in the opening (this is not sweet powdery violets) with the abstract floral elements and the standard patchouli-vetiver base which we have been smelling to distraction in, oh, just about the majority of the market's share of "modern chypres" in the last 5 years or so. The latter might be the reason why I am not more enthused with the idea, although I can't deny it's a competent example and it does present a miniscule leather facet which is intriguing. I just wish it had been furthered to its full potential!

Somehow the advertising fanned out in three commercial clips seems rather cheesy to me and you can colour me unimpressed on that score ~there's even a song "inspired" by them; sometimes they seem attenuated to the point of ridicule (The heavy nuanced accent on the Platinum one doesn't really help me take this any more seriously, dear advertisers. It's not like you hired Tim Piggot Smith, you know). The stories are "real stories", aiming to provide a romantic subplot to what is a snippet of "life" for the viewers. If the La Prairie audience accustomed to their expensive skincare is fantasizing about such a life (and not already having it) is unbeknowst to me, although I wouldn't hold my breath; it certainly looks a little aspirational to those who probably save scraps for a month in order to be able to afford a pot of their creams. ("I always wanted to leave on top of the world" etc. just before the story turns into the classic "rich lady in search of macho low-class so she can feel like a woman again".) You can watch them all here or on Lifethreads.com. It's interesting to note that although it's French actress-singer Arielle Dombasle who is fronting the fragrances, the commercials so far utilize neither her voice, nor her presence. I wonder why!
The clips come with lots of voice-over. Someone needs to have a cinematic lesson: Voice-over is the surest way to have a par excellence visual medium turn into televised theatre, aka snore-fest ~if you have ever compared a live theater performance with its televised version you know what I'm talking about! It's a pity the designing team didn't work on the advertising as well. But in true cinematic mode "nobody's perfect!"

La Prairie Life Threads: Silver, Gold and Platinum come in Eau de Parfum bottles of 1.7oz/50ml for $125/100 euros at La Prairie counters, Neiman Marcus, Begdorfs and Saks.
Notes etc. on this link.

Photo by Guy Bourdin via queeninheels.com and saopauloegratis.com

Falling in Love~Scents and Treats for Fall

T.S Eliot in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock came up with the immortal line of having "measured out his life with coffee spoons".
Somewhat less arrestingly I have been counting the (academic) years by the new leather-bound notebooks I buy every September, a perpetual student even while lecturing others.

The mixed feelings of new beginnings and the wistfulness of the rainy season produce a compelling crash in me: Perhaps it's merely that I was born in autumn that it holds a special place in my heart. Perhaps it's that autumn is a special season any way, reminding us of our own mortality.



Whatever it is,
"La Petite Fille de la Mer" (Girl of the Sea) by Greek composer Vangelis, captured in this visually beautiful clip titled "Autumn" below, is following me these days.
I accordingly got myself a new bottle of Eau de Monsieur by Annick Goutal to replenish my finished one. It's a criminally underrated fragrance from 1980 which pioneered the use of immortelle back when no one would think of having that fenugreek-like aroma about them. Its sexy, maple & moss over warmed sand dunes, tawny atmosphere reminds me of the passage of summer into winter.
My evening-unwinding scent for when I'm in? Douce Amère by Serge Lutens (click for review), a mix of sweet and bitter like absinth liquor.


And then there are things that easily lend themselves to autumnal thoughts by their very nature. Whenever I catch a glimpse of Andrei Tarkovsky's Zerkalo (The Mirror) I find myself listening to the hush of nature going to sleep. Christopher Brosius' Burning Leaves comes to mind...With a touch of the gently decaying red apples and myrrh incense of Wazamba (review here).



During the day I am fantasizing of striding moors à la Catherine Earnshaw in sturdy and mean boots. I have zeroed on these ones by La Redoute. My black riding boots scent? Chanel Cuir de Russie in extrait de parfum or Doblis by Hermès, baby! (click for reviews)
And of course this calls for a nice cashmere little sweater that can be worn any day and not be cumbersome (we don't get the Yorkshire weather, after all!). This Isle of Skye little number looks perfectly cozy and flattering. I'd like it in charcoal grey and would pair it with just about anything: colourful shirts, print scarfs, jeans, my A-line skirt in pitch black...
My cashmere sweater scent? Barbara Bui Le Parfum and Sonia Rykiel Woman, not for Men! in Eau de Parfum strictly. (Interchangeably, they're quite similar, as you can read here)

In the evenings, as the weather cools progressively, I have been reverting to my comforting Crème Spendide Nuit by Annick Goutal, whose rose essence is perfectly calming while the texture is a dream: Its instant moisturising claim is not misleading. And spraying my surroundings with my latest obsession, Opopanax by Diptyque: If you even remotely like the classic Shalimar by Guerlain, give the Diptyque a whirl. The resinous powdery touch is perfect for centering and I love the elegant bottle.

I was watching Strange Days by Kathryn Bigelow (Cameron's wife for those who don't know her) on TV the other day. 14 years yesterday since its release and it struck me how modern it still looks, how original. (And I still absolutely adore the above song by PJ Harvey.)
In a way we're living snippets of the lives of others through the Internet these days: Their experiences become our collective "Squids" and you're in one of them. So I hope you enjoy the ride and are left with a desire to Playback!

Please visit the following blogs for more thoughts on favorite Fall scents & associations:

The Non Blonde, Under the Cupola, Ayala's Smelly Blog, Savvy Thinker, Olfactarama, Notes from the Ledge, Ars Aromatica, Mossy Loomings, I Smell Therefore I Am, Tea Sympathy and Perfume.


Sepia Tree photo credit: Autumn in Sepia by Rick Lundh (via gallery.photo.net) manipulated by me.

All other photos by Elena Vosnaki (click to enlarge)


Clip October Dream originally uploaded by Shastasheene, Clip from Mirror originally uploaded by unkindrublicrpp, clip of Juliette Louis singing in Strange Days by SanJayaPrimeon Youtube.

Robert Piguet/Raucour Calypso: fragrance review & history

Leafing through mythology books while researching on Nausinous, the son of Ulysses and Calypso the couple appearing in Homer's Odyssey, I cannot help but marvel at the invisible threads that tie history, perfumery and the great imagination of inspired creators such as Robert Piguet. His fragrance Calypso encapsulates the ethereal and yet alluring qualities that the eponymous numph was renowed for in a most refined way.

It is with stupendous surprise that one learns that Rober Piguet, born in the Swiss town of Yverdon in 1901, was originally trained not in fashion but in banking! So much his couturier and creator of stylish fragrances reputation has preceded him among the cognoscenti! A young boy of 17 he moved to the fashion capital of the world, Paris, and landed a job first with Redfern and later with fashion legend Paul Poiret. His industrious and inquisitive spirit resulted in the founding of his own salon in 1933. There he provided Parisian women with his own creations as well as those of alumni Antonio Castillo, Christian Dior, James Galanos, Marc Bohan, Hubert de Givenchy and Pierre Balmain. Although his couture side of the business is largely forgotten apart from the historic scope (he retired in 1951 and died in 1953), his perfume business is very much alive. This is thanks to at once the tremendous fame that his pioneer fragrances Fracas (1946) and Bandit (1944), both by iconoclast perfumer Germaine Cellier, have created, as well as the respectful treatment his compositions have received in the hands of Joe Garces of Fashion Fragrances and Cosmetics Ltd. after a limbo state of the brand while under Alfin inc.

In researching Calypso the fragrance, I tried to find visuals and was aided by my friend Octavian who provided the image herein. On it there is a bottle not unlike the bell-shaped jars of today's Lutens bottles for his Paris-exclusives which bears the name Calypso by Raucour. The brand Raucour is most probably inspired by a personage in French history: Françoise-Marie-Antoinette Saucerotte, nicknamed Mademoiselle Raucourt or Françoise Raucourt, was an anti-Revolutionist tragedian living in the late 18th century France and the Directoire period, famous for her roles as Medea, Semiramis and Agripinna. Could Calypso, the nymph who fell in love with Ulysses/Odysseus and kept him captive on her island for 8 long years following his nostos from Troy, be another one of the roles which would fit her? The tragic quotient of the role, with its clash between the vagaries of the heart on the one hand and the predecided by the Gods fate of Ulysses (namely to return to his home and family) on the other, is not antithetical to her range.
Additionally, her predeliction for aromatic substances in the form of exotic and rare plants such as frangipaniers and baobabs in her Château in La Chapelle Saint-Mesmin lets the imagination roll with fragrant images...

The Renoir company simultaneously produced the perfumes Renoir, Raucour and Piguet while the Piguet trademarks were filled by Renoir during the war. The depicted Calypso from Raucour is in the same bottle and packaging Renoir used for Messager/ Cattleya or Dona Sol (that were also sold later under Raucour brand and credited to Piguet in several guides). This puts an interesting spin into the alleged launch date of 1957 or 1959 for Piguet's Calypso. In those older days aroma-producing companies (the equivalent of today's big boys, aka Givaudan, Firmenich, IFF etc) formulated the jus with less speed. Therefore in light of the above clues, could we assume that Calypso by Raucour and Calypso by Piguet are indeed the same fragrance? If so, the date launch should be pushed in the previous decade, placing it firmly alongside its olfactory "inspirations", more of which shortly, Whatever the truth is, the scent itself is revelational in some respect.

Piguet's Calypso olfactorily reflects the qualities of both spicy floral and green floral facets, resulting in a refined composition that alludes to both L'Air du Temps (its carnation tinged airiness) and Ma Griffe (its green buds on the mountaintop dryness). Calypso's daintily mossy garland is woven into delicate lacework that enhances these themes and in the canon of current Piguet fragrances which impose their presence it presents something of an anomaly. However it is for those occasions exactly that one is advised to look back at the history of a house when pronouncing judgement on terms of aesthetics: The Piguet portfolio included legion of fragrances once upon a time, with some of the lesser known being: Augure, Cattleya, Fou, Dingo (all from 1945), Gambade (1946), Grande Epoque, Rollon, Hirondelle, Brigand, Dark Herald, Donna Sol, Mimo, Esclave (all from 1947), Estampe (1948), and Messanger (1952).

The vintage Calypso by Robert Piguet (not to be confused with the duty-free limited edition by Lancôme by the same name) was originally available in Eau de Toilette strength and extrait de parfum in the standard curvaceous and simple flacons of Piguet and makes sporadic appearences on Ebay. Since Baghari (1945) and Visa (1946) have been re-issued and so have Futur (1974) and the masculine Cravache (1963) recently, to varying approximations to the original formula, let's hope that the marvel that is Calypso is destined for Phoenix-like resurection as well.

Painting of Odysseus and Calypso, 1883 by Arnold Böcklin via faerymists.tripod.com

Francis Kurkdjian: Bubbly on Fox TV

"Luxury today is not only about pricing, but it's about dreaming," Kurkdijan told Good Day NY's Julie Chang. Starting at $18, the products are quite affordable. You can find them at Bergdorf Goodman for now and at Maison Kurkdjian in Paris.

Catch Francis Kurkdjian in this month's issue of Vogue US as well.

pic via jtcomboy/mua

Ormonde Jayne Tiare: new fragrance

Ormonde Jayne fans (and you can count us among them) will be thrilled to hear of the latest creation of the superb quality niche house: TIARE (the flowery emblem of Tahiti and pronounced tee –a- ray).

Linda Pilkington, the founder and creator of Ormonde Jayne, has been searching for the perfect gardenia-tiare aromatics for long and has zeroed in Tiare Absolute from Tahiti (extracted in Tahiti, refined in the US and furthermore in France before it reaches the OJ studio in London) that provided the means to arrive at the desired result. Like precious jewels resting on dark green foliage, the unsurpassed beauty of the Tiare flower is hand picked whilst still unopened and laid in oil for 15 days to extract the fragrance. In case we have been wondering why a tropical floral amidst the season of fallen leaves and the mulled wine & spice allusions we crave, the brand reassures us: "Like the woman who wears Tiare, this is a perfume that totally ignores seasons and the time of day, a perfume so artfully blended and infinitely refined... but with a dash of scintillating appeal".
Notes for Ormonde Jayne Tiare:
Top: Mandarin, Orange Flower and Sicilian Lime
Heart: Tiare, Freesia, Water Lilies, Jasmine, Orris and Ylang
Base: Cedar, Vetiver, Sandalwood, Patchouli, Moss and Musk

Linda Pilkington, who must be thrilled as Ormonde Jayne as been shortlisted for the Warpole awards of Best British Emerging Luxury Brand, divulges:

“From the moment I first encountered Tiare, the search was on to find the purest oil extraction. Tiare is a flower that doesn’t give up its secrets easily and it took many different incarnations, finding a subtle progression from citrus to flower, before I felt that we had an exceptional perfume”.

Prices: £68 for Eau de Parfum 50 ml spray bottle and £ 180 for pure Parfum (50 ml with stopper)

Available from The Royal Arcade, 28 Old Bond Street , London W1S 4SL and Ormonde Jayne at Boutique 1 Jumeirah Beach , Dubai as well as online at Ormonde Jayne (worldwide shipping) from November 19th.

Update: Full review uploaded on this page. (click link)

some info via press release