Estee Lauder Sensuous Noir: new fragrance

Estée Lauder had created a woody amber for women called Sensuous in 2008, luminous and uncharacteristically woody for the brand's feminine audience. The newest interpretation of that concept, just launching for the holiday season, is Sensuous Noir, a more intense expression which takes the original’s "molten woods" accord and adds floral depth and mystery.

According to Karyn Khoury, senior vice president of corporate fragrance development worldwide, The Estée Lauder Companies: “Sensuality as an experience and as an emotion has a very broad spectrum of expression. There are many moods, many facets, and many shades of sensuality, which range from the more luminous expression of Sensuous to deeper, darker, more mysterious expressions. This concept of exploring a darker, more mysterious olfactive territory and deeper shades of sensuality inspired the creation of Sensuous Noir.” [source]
Sensuous Noir is based on a chord of melted wood nature print, honey and amber but the floral aspects have been intensified: The fragrance encompasses exotic purple rose, rose essence and spiced lily, to evoke a midnight garden aura. “Queen of the Night,” alongside black pepper accent the scent with sweet headiness and spice respectively. The base includes "Crème Noir Accord" and Patchouli Prisma, alongside benzoin, honey, amber and vanilla, making for a gourmand take on woody.
The bottle of the flanker fragrance echoes the design of the original, only now dressed in mysterious purple.
Sensuous Noir will be available at all Estée Lauder counters in September 2010, the eau de parfum retails for $60, for the 1.7 oz/50 ml, and $48 for the 1.0 oz/30 ml. Additional information is available at: www.esteelauder.com.

Soapy Fragrances: More than Just a Matter of Clean

~"Father dear, will you not make ready for me a wagon, with strong wheels, that I may take to the river for washing the fine clothes that I have lying dirty here?" (Nausicaa to Alcinous. Homer6.57).

~"My hands are of your colour; but I shame
To wear a heart so white. [Knock]
I hear a knocking
At the south entry: retire we to our chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it, then!
(Lady Macbeth speaking to her husband, Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act II scene 2)

~The scene: Drab British police station of the early 1960s, Christine Keeler leaves after being interrogated on accusations of prostitution.
Police officer murmuring under his breath, convinced of her guilt: "I can smell the pink Camay on them..."
(from the film Scandal, 1989 focused on the Profumo affair)

From the feeling of well-being in classical times (when people used a mix of ashes and olive oil) to the purification concept in later Christianity, all the way to its ambiguous modern connotations of both Puritanical "cleanliness next to godliness" and the loaded innuendo of superficially washing away improper smells deriving from fornication (hence the term παστρικιές to denote whores) , the history of soap is full of interesting trivia and manifestations of perception put before smell. A little soap and water talk loudly. The advertisements of soap, especially, both reflect the culture and create it. Functionality, purity, preservence of youth, sensitive complexion caring, well-being & grooming, a lingering trail of freshness...

Soapy fragrances in many ways carry on where the humble bar of soap left off. And they constitute a subdivision of "dry" scents (explored here in more detail). Although in our modern germ-phobic environment they present a solace of "clean" amidst all the pollution, a form of "olfactory safety bubble" as well as a safe choice in an office environment, it was not always so. They used to hint at social status, meaning the wearer could afford daily baths with hot water, a refined taste for delicate smells instead of bombastic heavies and a predeliction for the fine several-times milled Savon de Marseille, based on pure olive oil same as the Greek varieties, still today produced with the primitive and oh-so-nostalgic methods of air-drying. It's a reflection on luxury, on perception, on reverse snobbery too. L'Eau Serge Lutens cemented this for eternity.
When someone casually asks shrugging the shoulders "why not just take a shower?", they're not realising that there's more to soapy scents than a simple scrub me down with just any soap. Cast your mind back to the (fictional) Ogilvy Sisters Soap admired by the protagonists on a young Gabrielle Anwar in the cinematic remake of Scent of a Woman. [watch the clip]

But what does "soapy" mean in fragrance terms? The term is usually used to refer to fragrances which smell like soap. Mind you, not the current, frou frou varieties that are further aromatized with God-knows-what (berries, marshmallows, you name it!), but some of the classic soaps like Ivory, Lux, Camay, Pears and Dove. Their alkaline smell that reads as both bitter and sweet, their vague floralcy, their unmistakeable trail of something man-made...as soap truly is. "Man-made" might be an accurate term, yet it might also connote artificial, and in turn shallow and undesireable, especially in a field such as perfume where many perfume enthusiasts do not like synthetic base notes and complain about perfumes smelling increasingly as if they come from creative lab composing instead of naturally derived materials. Yet by their very nature, soapy fragrances rest on creative lab composing.



When Ernest Beaux presented Coco Chanel the iconic No.5 when Coco has asked him for a perfume that "smells like a woman and not a rose bed", that cluster of citric-soapy aldehydes ~specifically C10, C11, C12 thus code-named by chemists to show the number of carbon atoms they contain~ recalled cleansing rituals. But the association was not fully formed yet. In fact the reverse was the case: Aldehydes, first discovered in the lab in the late 19th century (Fougère Royale -Royal Fern- by Paul Parquet for Houbigant in 1882 was the first perfume to feature them) really became popular after the introduction and commercial success of Chanel No.5 (and its successor for the American market, No.22). Even today Chanel exploits that "clean" honeyed-aldehydic vibe in their offerings: Beige in their Les Exclusifs line is a case in point. On the strength of that popularity, several soaps were onwards aromatized with the aldehydic "bouquet" present in the famous fragrance, thus ensuring them recognisability and familiarity as well as a "classy" image (Several "rustic" artisanal varieties on several parts of the world don't smell aldehydic).

Nevertheless aldehydic does not necessarily equate "soapy" per se, nor vice versa. Some aldehydic fragrances include hints of soapiness (Piguet's Baghari, Madame Rochas, Rive Gauche, Revillon's Detchema, Fleurs de Rocaille, Calèche, Nude by Bill Blass) but they do not immediately read as "soap" the same way that others do. For instance, take a bottle of Sicily by Dolce & Gabanna: pure, fat, alkaline soap garlanded with musky accents. And yet Sicily is aldehydic! So is White Linen, a descendant of Chanel's No.22 with more piercing notes and less sweetness. Confused much? It might be easier if I specified that it depends on which direction the perfumer wants to tilt the pendulum. See Essence by Narciso Rodriguez: a contemporary soapy via over-stretching aldehydes.

Several other elements, especially traditionally soap-entering florals such as rose, jasmine and iris with a good dose of lily of the valley (muguet) and citrus/verbena, also give an impression of soapy. L'Occitane Eau de Quatre Reines takes a sudsy approach to rose (and in some part so does Joy by Patou). Creed Original Vetiver a similar one to the eastern grass by the same name, Pure White Linen by Lauder does the trick with a bone-dry lily of the valley. Lily of the valley is treacherous ground: too much of the synths used to replicate it and the fragrance might start resembling a scrubbed-down bathroom, due to its ubiquitness in functional products.

Dove on the other hand is a soap with an identity crisis of the most delightful variety: The synthetic irones (as in iris) create a smooth, delicate scent almost as good as perfume; it's a mystery why a fine fragrance based on that smell hasn't been created yet taking in mind many adore it.
Other fragrant examples rely on synthetic musks and not much flowers. The "just out of the shower" smell was heavily advertised, burnt on our cortex first by the advertising of Glow by Jennifer Lopez in 2000. From then on, things catapulted and the bastion of "shower-fresh" smells heavily relying on musks were a matter of course. But not all is bad and Glow is still among the best in its category. The image of "freshly cleaned linens left out in the sun to dry by a field of lavender" suddenly became very desirable, to the point that it escaped household products and suddenly became part of ourselves: This was a defining moment in the zeitgeist, the point where the detergent producing companies took over the world of scent by storm, shoving down the formulae and molecules of functioning products to the throats of lab-perfumers in fine fragrance making companies.
Men were not left behind in this quest of "shower fresh", competitiveness in the boardroom needed the assurance of grooming: Smell Carriere and the original Gendarme, both by Gendarme: they're clearly reminiscent of a wash with good old-fashioned soap on a rope. Men can also rever in the soapiness of Pour Homme by Paco Rabanne (where the lavender-coumarin fougere recipe is especially cooling) and Miller & Berteaux Spiritus/Land #2. Try Pure by Mark: a bar of soap in liquid form!

Philosophy with their Pure Grace and Amazing Grace continue on a popular theme, right where they left off with Baby Grace and its powdery vibe we explored in another article. Demeter have Pure Soap in the library of scents. Eau de Gantier by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier uses citrus and blackberry top notes to lift a bath-mitt-worthy bunch of musks. Infusion de Fleurs d'Oranger, a limited edition by Prada, is very sudsy, something lots of orange blossom scents do. Cologne by Mugler follows a more citrusy direction which also ends on white musks for a prolonged effect of latheriness. All are unisex and can be enjoyed year-long. Another one of their selling points, making them instant standbys.


Still there is the difference between bar soap and laundry detergent. Several modern fragrances with a concept, lifestyle approach behind them aim (or are restricted due to budget) for the latter: To wit, Lather, Shower Fresh, and Warm Cotton from the Clean line. Laundromat by Demeter. Egyptian Goddess by Auric Blends: pure fabric softener. Or Chanel Chance Eau Tendre: it happens to the best of them....And several screechy lily of the valley scents which do this inadvertedly. When it comes to soap, it's a slippery slope...

Which are your favourite "soapy fragrances"?

If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:

• Definition: Indolic vs. Non Indolic
• Definition: Lactonic, Creamy, Milky, Butyric
• Definition: Powdery & Dry in Fragrances
• Definition: Resinous & Balsamic
• Definition: Phenolic, Terpenic, Camphorous
• Definition: Which Material Produces Which Note/Effect?

Pics via vintageadvertisingprints.co.uk, the soapopera.com, 8ate blog, hilarysheperd.com, oldorientmuseum.com, fairyfreckles.com

Pitti Imagine Fragranze 8: Perfume Exhibition

From Friday to Sunday, 10-12 September 2010, Pitti Immagine presents the eighth edition of Fragranze at the Stazione Leopolda, Florence, the first fair-event in Italy dedicated to top level artistic perfumery created through research and sophisticated processes: essences, body-care and wellness products, cosmetic specialties and scented accessories.

In recent years, FRAGRANZE has become an observatory following the evolution of olfactory culture thanks to a full calendar of special projects, preview presentations, talk shows and press conferences -– organized by Pitti Immagine and the exhibitors. Last September FRAGRANZE presented over 160 brands and was attended by 1,700 buyers, a 35% increase compared to the previous edition, with double the number of foreign buyers attending from France, Germany, Russia, the United Kingdom and the United States. 114 journalists were registered representing a total of 72 publications from all over the world.

The theme for the new setting of FRAGRANZE, curated by Alessandro Moradei, will be the maieutic qualities of nature: colorful, spontaneous and geometric plants will harmoniously invade the Stazione Leopolda, creating an atmosphere that triggers warm, natural feelings, stimulating dialogue. Spring and Charms, the two most recent exhibition projects, will each have their own layout which will be coherent with and functional to their respective products.

Sissel Tolaas, the Norwegian scientist, artist and scent provocateur has been invited to attend this edition of Fragranze. From her Berlin laboratory where, to date, she has filed away up to 6730 odors – in a kind of olfactory diary/library - with her creations and artistic performances, Tolaas has launched a unique olfactory education project: training people to recognize, accept and define the odors of places, things, bodies and emotions. Sissel Tolaas will present part of her research at the Stazione Leopolda and will illustrate the reasons behind her extraordinary work and the methods she uses.

Watch the Pitti video on this link.
Information on booking and participants on www.pittimmagine.com

Defining Powdery and Dry in Fragrances

"Perfume is subjective", I hear all the time. What's heavy to one is light to another, what is pleasantly sweet to certain individuals can be overly sweet. Probably because we haven't really agreed on which terms to apply so that we have a codified language to describe scents. True, we use "fragrance families" taxonomy to distinguish them (floral, woody, chypre, aldehydic, leather etc.) and sometimes we borrow from taste (sweet, bitter, savoury/salty, sour) but what happens with more esoteric terms, like "powdery" scents or "dry" ones?

Google search "powdery dry perfume" and you will see in the top five results the mention of Guerlain's Chamade. Now, Chamade isn't particularly "dry" nor is it particularly "powdery" except in the end. I mean, sure, one could detect these nuances to some degree, but my mind would gush forth hundreds of other suggestions for fragrances before mentioning Chamade. Unless we're thinking of the slang term "dry powder" for cash reserves for an unforeseen difficulty, in which case, yes, Chamade is a great asset in the war against industry mediocrity. But I digress.
So let's break down the terms, starting with "dry" since it's the more inclusive one.

"Dry" is a term that can denote two things in English: the opposite of sweet (as in wines) and the opposite of humid (Just like "light" can mean the opposite of both heavy and dark). In the latter sense, it's easier to grasp the context: Dry fragrances don't have dewy, watery, acqueous elements that recall crisp vegetation, any expanse of water or dew drops on petals. They can be mineral-like and they keep you dry as a result. Think of woody scents full of cedar, sandalwood, oak, rosewood, birch... Like the trunks of trees and their barks, they have a solid "appearence" to the nose. Think of smoke and some kinds of incense.

The opposite of non-sweet when refering to "dry" fragrances is a little more elaborate to explain. Think of a fine dry wine which has a minimal residual of sugars. Taste a fine white Reisling and compare with a full-bodied Sherry. And later on, within those categories, try to detect the degrees of dryness or sweetness between a Fino and an Oloroso Seco. Tannic notes give a taste of dryness which bites the tongue (in a non-spicy way).
Same goes for fragrances: In his couture shop at 7, rue Saint-Florentin, couturier Jean Patou had the brilliant idea of creating a cocktail bar where men could drink and small-talk while their women shopped for their dresses. In 1930, Patou decided that this could be converted into a veritable perfume bar and Henri Alméas, his perfumer, was instructed to create "cocktail" fragrances: The results were the original Cocktail, Cocktail Dry, Cocktail Sweet, and Cocktail Bitter Sweet. Clear enough?
It's not accidental that most masculine fragrances aim at "dry"; it denotes a certain butch element! Dry notes in fragrances are usually provided by woods or some grasses (for instance vetiver), by rhizomes (orris/iris), by phenols (tar-like essences such as birch tar, guiacwood, leathery compounds), by mosses (oakmoss, treemoss). There is no restriction as to which family they might belong to, though: Try the oriental Tiempe Passate by Antonia's Flower, the chypre Aromatics Elixir by Clinique, the woody floral Ivoire by Balmain, Chanel's green floral No.19, the aldehydic Pure White Linen by Lauder, the mineral cologne Eau de Gentiane Blanche: They're all non sweet, non humid, they will keep you dry on a warm summer's day.

And powdery, you ask? What does it signify when talking about fine fragrance? "Powdery" can be a subcategory of "dry", as powder by its very nature abhors moisture. Yet powdery can take sweeter nuances or drier ones, according to manipulation by a talented perfumer. It also hints at a feminine rather than a traditionally masculine smell, evoking as it does a million "cute" acoutrements: feather boas, white kitten fur, cosmetic enhancements and 18th century peruques, pastry making involving flour, and fluffy angora sweaters in pastel colours. Usually the categorisation is between "face powder" or "talcum powder" (also described as "baby-powder"). Face powder notes are more refined in feel and overall less sweet with a vintage, "perfume-y" trail, while talcum powder is simpler, usually involving a comforting, vanillic backdrop that recalls the famous lemon--lavender-vanilla accord of Johnson's Baby Powder. The no doubt amusing dichotomy of powder evoking both grandmothers (through the association with the scents they carried on from their youth) and babies is probably fodder for a psychology thesis on how smell perception is the most perverse within the human brain function. For the scope of our column, let's give some examples to clarify our point.
Face-powder-smelling fragrances include Hermès 24 Faubourg, Ombre Rose by Jean-Charles Brosseau, No.19 by Chanel, Patou's discontinued Normandie, Creed Fleurs de Bulgarie, Jolie Madame by Balmain, Coriandre by Jean Couturier and Ma Griffe by Carven. Talcum or baby-powdery fragrances have an artistically acclaimed representative in Petits et Mamans by Bulgari, a cuddly powdery scent which truly charms. Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan and Flower by Kenzo are the rather grown-up version, aromatized with a little jasmine for the former and a clearly detectable synth violet for the latter. Try Teint de Neige by Lorenzo Villoressi: choke-full of powder! Surely a firm favourite of power loving folks!
US brand Philosophy was fully cognisant, when they composed Baby Grace, that Americans have fond memories of having their baby bottoms talcumed with Johnson's. And there's of course Baby Powder by Demeter for nostalgisers on a budget; or those who want it clearly spelled on the label...

We had talked about ambery fragrances which often evoke a powdery effect the other day, some of the ingredients involved into giving such an ambience being amber mixtures, opoponax gum (such as in the case of Shalimar), heliotropin, vanilla and several musks (try Habanita by Molinard, Must de Cartier in pure parfum, Kenzo Amour or Obsession by Calvin Klein to see this. And see how white musks can be powdery soft in Clair de Musc by Lutens).
But powderiness can be also rendered through orris/iris (Iris Poudre even says so in the name), certain aldehydes (read more on which on this article), Iso-E Super when combined with certain musks and most importantly mosses (like in Aromatics Elixir, Ma Griffe, Chanel No.19, Knowing by Lauder, Coriandre, and Piguet's Bandit).

Moss contributing to the effect is an interesting case of chance discovery. I was puzzling myself for years trying to figure out why moss reminds me of my mother and of face powder. I am not alone, lots of women associate it specifically with vintage poudre de riz face-powders imagining them being slowly, decadently, glamorously fluffed on with ostrich-feather puffs by film noir heroines before they go out to wreck havoc on some poor men's lives. Powders from Cyprus I knew were based on the famous "recipe" of chypre perfumes. Until one day strolling the Max Factor counter I stopped to read the actual ingedients on a couple of compacts, one of them being Creme Puff which both my mother and grandmother used with a wide brush for setting their makeup. Yup, prominently displayed was Evernia prunastri, otherwise known as...oakmoss!

Which are your favourite dry &/or powdery fragrances? 

If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:

• Definition: Indolic vs. Non Indolic
• Definition: Lactonic, Creamy, Milky, Butyric
• Definition: Terpenic, Phenolic, Camphorous
• Definition: Resinous & Balsamic
• Definition: Soapy in Fragrances
• Definition: Which Material Produces Which Note/Effect?

Still from the film Marie Antoinette by Sofia Coppola, featuring Kirsten Dunst via Hansen Love blog; Jean Patou Cocktail Dry and L.T.Piver powder ads via hprints.

L'Air du Temps is Rocking: New Design by Phillipe Starck

Celebrated French designer Philippe Starck has given L’Air du Temps, the classic Nina Ricci fragrance which the 61-year-old admits to wearing himself, a new look.
The design is unusual, very sleekened and gadgetry-like, yet not linear. The famous doves that denoted world peace after the end of WWII when the perfume was introduced take a new tougher, silhouetted line that is "rock n'roll". One could argue that the new design is distanced from everything which historically and emotionally we have come to associate with L'Air du Temps: The open wings of the doves in flight are stylised yet they're still kissing (see their beaks unite at the very very top), but one could almost see a cattle skull in profile, a boomerang or a shark's fin at one side's point.
According to Osmoz, the limited-edition item has two goals: "offering collectors an exceptional bottle, and proving that more than 60 years after its launch, the fragrance is still modern and… totally in “l’air du temps” (i.e. the zeitgeist, or the spirit of the times)".
L’Air du Temps by Starck, 1.5 oz/45ml.: 69 euros. Available from mid-October.

Then again, like a proper classic, L'Air du Temps, the flagship of Nina Ricci, at least optically has always been on the vanguard, offering myriads of permutations to reflect the times: Watch some of them on this previous Perfume Shrine article.

photo via buybuy

Frequent Questions: Amber or Ambergris?

Perfume companies and their ad copy often end up confusing the consumer. Whether they do it inadvertedly or on purpose is to be examined. The point is several people raise questions: "Is amber and ambergris (i.e. grey amber) the same thing?" "Why is amber so sweet?" "Why do some ambers smell sweet while some smell savoury or even salty?" "Is it just me?" Let's disentangle the confusion.

Amber and ambergris are two completely different things, at least in theory as several companies tend to mix the terms to great confusion.

Amber usually refers to a resinous mix, a medley of base notes (usually a specific mix of only three amply suffices, read our extensive article on the differences) with a sweet, almost powdery tone (smell Histoires de Parfums Ambre 114 for instance) and an oriental theme due to the very nature of the resins used which hail from the East. Hence the ~usually in French~ terminology/classification of orientalised perfumes as "parfums ambrés". For instance CK Obsession, Shalimar by Guerlain or Moschino by Moschino (the original) are examples of perfumes "ambrés"; they're warm, inviting, a little powdery, soft, cuddly, mysterious...

The concept of "amber" is in fact an olfactory convention of the late 19th century and became a perfume "genre" at that time with the invention of vanillin (synthetic vanilla, as known from patisserie to most of us) added to the time-honored use of labdanum.

It's interesting to note that the most common raw materials for creating an amber accord for most perfumers are labdanum (resinous substance from Cistus Ladaniferus or "rock rose", possessing a leathery, deep, pungently bitterish smell), benzoin (a balsam from Styrax Tonkiniensis with a sweetish, caramel and vanillic facet) and styrax (resin of Liquidambar Orientalis tree with a scent reminiscent of glue and cinnamon) with the inclusion of vanillin.
Since vanilla naturally compliments the sweeter facets of benzoin and since it's both considered a universal pleaser (especially so in the huge US market) and a semi-aphrodisiac (according to some perfumers' beliefs, notably Guerlain) it's used to boost the effect rendering most ambers quite sweet. Four notable examples of non sweet ambers, to escape that surypy effect, while still remaining "parfums ambrés", are Ambre Sultan by Lutens (the golden standard, mixing a pungently herbal top note including bay leaf and oregano), Ambra del Nepal by I Profumi di Firenze (using naturally cool and citrusy frankincense to put the sostenuto on amber), Ambre Fétiche by Goutal (drier than most thanks to Russian leather base) and Ambre Précieux by Maitre Parfumer et Gantier (beautifully balanced with aromatic top).

Ambergris on the other hand refers to the intenstines product of the sperm whale. Ambergris (also called "grey amber" and ambregris in French) is a substance that the wild sperm whale (Physeter macrocephalus Lin=P.catodon) regurgitates naturally, a sort of cetacean furball to cleanse its digestive track of remnants of indigested cuttlefish (quid beaks mainly). "Only, if you thought it was got rid of through the mouth, think again: it comes out the other end...[Kemp Chris., Floating Gold: A Natural (and Unnatural) History of Ambergris]

"It’s hard not to fall in love with ambergris. Here is a solid lump of whale feces, weathered down—oxidized by salt water, degraded by sunlight, and eroded by waves — from the tarry mass to something that smells, depending on the piece and whom you’re talking to, like musk, violets, fresh-hewn wood, tobacco, dirt, Brazil nut, fern-copse, damp woods, new-mown hay, seaweed in the sun, the wood of old churches, or pretty much any other sweet-but-earthy scent". [Kemp Chris., Floating Gold: A Natural (and Unnatural) History of Ambergris]

 
The ingredient is rather sticky and gelatinous like, like a fat lump of grey color at first; while when it dries it becomes harder like a fragile but hard resin. When it is fresh, ambergris has nearly no value because its smell is extremely fecal (like "scented cow dung") and it has no value for perfumery. But let it float on the ocean for some years and it gains a beautiful patina that famously chemist Gunther Ohloff described as “humid, earthy, fecal, marine, algoid, tobacco-like, sandalwood-like, sweet, animal, musky and radiant”. Other people have dscribed it as having the scent of  wood in old churches or Brazil nuts.

To Christopher Ash in Whaler's Eye (George Allen & Unwin Lts.1964, p.254): "It always reminds me of a cool English wood in spring, and the scent you smell when you tear up the moss to uncover the dark soil underneath".

"Nor indeed can the whale possibly be otherwise than fragrant, when, as a general thing, he enjoys such high health; taking abundance of exercise; always out of doors; though, it is true, seldom in the open air. I say, that the motion of a Sperm Whale's flukes above water dispenses a perfume, as when a musk-scented lady rustles her dress in a warm parlor. What then shall I liken the Sperm Whale to for fragrance, considering his magnitude? Must it not be to that famous elephant, with jewelled tusks, and redolent with myrrh, which was led out of an Indian town to do honour to Alexander the Great?" (H.Melville, Moby Dick, ch.20)

The process of production is usually non harmful to the animal; not exactly "whale vomit" as purpetuated, more of the equivalent of a furball which floats on the ocean for years.

If we are talking about ethically harvested ambergris as opposed to ambergris from slaughtered whales ( that goes through a man-made maturing process) it is tremendously rare. It was one of the most prized findings of sailors (There is a mention of it in the seafaring adventure film “Master and Commander: far side of the world” when sailors contemplate capturing a whaler merchant ship.)

Its greatest attribute is its capacity for rendering a composition rounder, especially in oriental perfumes or in floral compositions where it melds the notes into one and brings out their best qualities. It clings on to fabric too, through repeated washings even, becoming ever sweeter with time. Therefore it is prized for its fixative power: the ability to anchor more volatile notes and make them last.
Most commercial perfumes today use a synthetic substitute, because the real thing is so expensive. 
Dior Dioressence used to use real ambergris back in the day. Eau de Merveilles by Hermes is suppossedly one of the few that contain some raw ambergris (debatable) , which is usually used in tincture form in perfumery due to its sheer potency. Creed is also insisting that they use real ambergris in their perfumes. Natural perfumers use beach harvested ambergris in some of their more exclusive or bespoke fragrances.


Natural ambergris doesn't smell sweet at all to me; in fact it's salty, almost dry, a little oily. A very different variant on sensual which I personally lean to with a passion. Smell Isabelle Doyen's L'Antimatière by Les Nez to get a feel of what natural ambergris smells like: it's choke-full.
[For a much more elaborate breakdown of the raw materials and perfume terms "amber" and "ambergris" as well as the synthetics used to replicate an amber note in perfumery you can read more on this link. ]

To revert to the confusion instigated by perfume companies, let's illustrate with some examples.
Some perfumes do use the term "amber" in their puramid notes to stand for "ambergris", Eau de Merveilles by perfumers Ralf Schwieger and Nathalie Feisthauer being a case in point in some online lists of notes. The fragrance smells saline, salty, almost briny, discreet, definitely not sweet. Prada's L'Eau Ambrée is another example along those lines: I had described the drydown as smelling of ambergris, of salty skin. Clearly not an "ambré" perfume in the sense described above!

Balmain's Ambre Gris on the other hand does exactly the opposite: The whole ad copy is a marketing ploy based on the "myth" of ambergris:
« L’ambre gris, proche du mythe, un ingrédient rare et précieux à l’odeur somptueuse. » (While in fact the natural is very rarely used nowadays and only in very select, very expensive cases).
The scent itself is based on amber synthetics and is indeed sweet (typical cinnamon-vanilla accord). But the name and corresponding colour co-ordinated packaging work on the premise of "grey amber" and the elusive "pearl" of the sea: The cap is shaped like a huge South Sea pearl, its surface scattered with dots that look like Sevruga caviar "boules" from afar (thus further evoking luxury and the ocean), the colour scheme is greyish, mysterious, non bronzed oriental.

Perfumery is an intricate language that traps the mind into perceptions that trick the nose...

Resin drop trapping an insect inside via wikimedia commons, photograph of Ambre Gris by Balmain bottle via Stress & the Country

The Victorian Pharmacy

Alec Lawless, founder and perfumer at Essentially Me Artisan Perfumery, is to appear in the fourth episode of a BBC2 TV series "The Victorian Pharmacy" scheduled on Thursday 5th August at 9pm. On the progamme he works with the three presenters to create a new fragrance using traditional ingredients. The perfume will also be available to buy exclusively from Essentially Me from the same date.

Here's what Alec had to say about the experience:
"For the TV documentary I looked at late Victorian recipes for three perfumes and decided to use many of those ingredients with the addition of some oils from India. As I was going to call the fragrance Empress of India I decided it should contain the finest quality aromatics in fitting tribute to the traditions of perfumery in a bygone age.I chose classic Orientals for the base: sandalwood, vetivert Bourbon, frankincense, vanilla, opoponax and patchouli. For the heart: tuberose, jasmines Sambac and grandiflorum, rose Maroc and orange blossom absolute. Citrus top notes of neroli, bergamot and mandarin were complimented by rose Otto, orris root and coriander.As for the purposes of the television I had three apprentices, I got each to experiment with one of the accords before assessing them as a group and blending them in just proportion to produce the finished fragrance. It was quite engaging and even the guys on sound and camera came to check it when it was finished."
More details from the BBC website can be accessed here. And also on BBC iPlayer.
The corresponding perfume, "Empress of India", will be available exclusively from Essentially Me from 4th August in a 56ml bottle, either as an Eau de Parfum (£65) or Eau de Toilette (£45). There will also be a special edition sample size bottle of Eau de Parfum.

The winners of the draw....

....for the full bottles of the new Tauer scent are La Bonne Vivante and Bloody Frida. Congratulations and please mail me with a shipping address, using the email on the Profile page, so these can be sent your way soon.
Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one!

I have just returned from a little trip which promises a lot of surprises for you...shortly, very shortly my darlings!

Ineke Guilded Lily: new fragrance

Ineke, the San Francisco-based niche brand, presents “Gilded Lily” , the next installment in her ABCD series.
“Gilding the lily with sparkling fruits and cypriot woods"”
Ineke Rühland announces the latest eau de parfum
in her alphabetical line of fragrances, called “Gilded Lily”. When Ineke read
about the amazing scent of the Goldband Lily of Japan (lilium auratum), she felt
compelled to order a few for her garden to study their fragrance. This note became the heart of Gilded Lily. Historically, Victorian plant hunters discovered this lily growing wild in the mountains of northern Japan, where it is known as “yama yuri”, and brought it back to England. Afterwards, it became the basis for many of today's lily hybrids.
Gilded Lily’s "fruity chypre" structure opens with sparkling top notes of
pineapple and rhubarb followed by the goldband lily, and closes with patchouli, oakmoss and amber. Gilded Lily is the quintessential well-groomed scent,
accompanied by a head-turning deliciousness.
The phrase “gilding the lily” was coined by William Shakespeare in his play,
King John. Ineke feels it is an apt description for perfumery in general since perfumers are always looking for ways to embellish the beauty of nature. To
convey the intersection of Elizabethan England and modern Japan, the artwork for Gilded Lily has a “Shakespeare meets manga” theme.
Gilded Lily and the rest of Ineke's line (After My Own Heart, Balmy Days &Sundays, Chemical Bonding, Derring-Do, Evening Edged in Gold and Field
Notes from Paris) are sold worldwide at the fine stores listed on her website,
www.ineke.com. Gilded Lily will be available in late September 2010.


via press release

Miller Harris candles for a First Lady

Michelle Obama was gifted a Miller Harris mini candle set from the original Notting Hill store, chosen by Samantha Cameron herself, the wife of British Prime Minister David Cameron, while the latter were visiting the US.
Apparently Michelle apart from being a prime target for being given scented gifts from companies (i.e.Creed) is keen on scents herself as attested by her Boedicea fragrance shopping we had reported. Good to know!

Mystery of Musk: Sensual Embrace by JoAnne Bassett, Drifting Sparks by Artemisia Natural Perfume reviews

I smelled a lot of fragrances made of all naturals for the Mystery of Musk project. Some went for carnality (see Kewda), some opted for sensuality (see Eau Natural), others were firmly into gourmand territory (Craving anyone?) and others still were bacchic (Graines de Paradis and Dionysus). Sensual Embrace by JoAnne Bassett was a surprise: Uncitrusy citrus on top (mandarin and clementine have a mellower, sweeter aspect than what we usually associate with tangy tart citrus, i.e. bergamot and lemon), almost aqueous progression, a hint of violet and rose of all things and then less suprisingly tobacco muskiness; honeyed and smooth, baby, yeah, let's get into that groovy feeling! Not exactly what we have come to associate musk per se (or at least what most people conditioned into drugstore musks have come to expect), yet very animalistically and pleasantly so (jasmine pairs incredibly well with musky smells, its indoles enhanced). Sensual Embrace is a proper perfume rather than a plain musk "accord" for sure, like a diaphanous and creamy-retro scent for dilettanti. The only drawback is its lasting power is rather short.
Joanne Bassett's site can be found on this link.


Difting Sparks was composed by Lisa Fong and if your idea of musk is close to powdery rose and honey (or if you like Lorenzo Villoresi's take on his Musk, to make things simper), then it's a must try! Mastic gum for instance gives that hazy, fluffy, and at once oleaginous feel that could be close to a rose-musk. The rose here is resting atop polished woods, like a parqueted floor in an old appartment: aristocratic, classy, inviting, warm. Ambergris provides the right touch, someplace between an object and human flesh. The intriguing ingredient of motia attar I learned is jasmine sambac from India co-distilled in sandalwood, producing a soft note without the heaviness of traditional full-on jasmine ~curiously enough. Makes your mouth water at the thought of those two delicious essences coupled...Still, very well blended, so you can't pinpoint it as such, you just feel the creaminess and the depth.
I found that the overall smoothness, almost linear (after the first three minutes), assured progression and the good manners of this perfume managed to please me, even if a muskier or more animalistic composition was at the back of my mind initially. I can't see Lisa having too much trouble selling this one!

The notes for Drifting Sparks are mastic absolute, beeswax absolute, rose otto, bois rose and cedarwood for the top; rose absolute, orange blossom absolute, jasmine sambac absolute, and essential oil of the blossoms of the nyctanthes aboritistus tree, from India for the heart; ambergris, agarwood, angelica root, ambrette seed absolute, black current absolute, motia attar, sandalwood and siam wood for the base.
Lisa Fong resides in Oakland, California and her Artemisia Natural Perfume site can be reached here.

Please visit the rest of the participating blogs and fora on the Mystery of Musk project following the links provided.

Pic via img3.visualizeus.com

Mystery of Musk: Temple of Musk by SIP, Cravings by Ambrosia reviews

Two musk submissions by two very different artists: one by a rather well-known perfumer in her niche with ties to Hollywood, the other a small indie one hailing from the far away land of Australia. Result: I tend to prefer the latter and not without good reason.

Alexandra Balahoutis (head perfumer of a perfume lab in Los Angeles and owner of a retail store) first ignited my interest when I saw her ripped apart for the prose on her site of Strange Invisible Perfumes on a certain expert's now defunct blog back in 2005. You gotta question why someone is getting so much attention and that makes you wonder about the work produced, no? The prose was indeed less than satisfactory at the time and has now been removed from her site. Of course, even though her business seemed doomed at that point, after the perfume enthusiasts' siding with the expert on this, Alexandra has remained totally unscathed by a business point of view and goes on strong. Still, I never actually pursued to test her perfumes till this project came along, which I recognise is an error on my part. Pity that my first encounter with her Temple of Musk proved less than satisfactory.

First of all, it was among the last bunch of samples I got. It even managed to arrive a day later than something all the way from Australia! So tsk tsk tsk, I thought the project seemed a little rushed. I understand that SIP had other fish to fry and all, but hey. And smelling the strips and then on skin, I can see that it was a bit rushed, including the tiny quantity sent: A harshly medicinal musk with murky facets and vine-like nuances (possibly the stated myrtle could do that, it reads a little lemony though) which I couldn't pull apart, like a vice grip from which one cannot escape make heads or tails of. It's heavy and "catty" (blackcurrant buds?), but it's not the kind of "heavy" which we associate with opulent orientals or retro scents. It just sat there refusing to do anything... What can I say? I don't want to bash small indie perfumers and prefer to keep silent when I find something they produce subpar. I am making an exception today because I have heard many good things about her work from people whose opinions I respect. And hope her ~undoubtedly more carfully turned out~ Musc Botanique is exactly my cuppa...Someone has promised me to introduce me to her other perfumes, because Alexandra is clearly capable of so much more. I have absolutely no doubt it is so.

Craving by Ambrosia on the other hand proved rather delightful, if only tempting me to dive into a cookie jar of home-made biscotti to scoop darl chocolate ice-cream with! The name is of course delectable, by nature...
The perfumer, Ambrosia Jones, impressed me first of all with her professionalism. Although the scent sample took its while to arrive all the way from half the world over (a given), she was among the very very first to inform me of her intentions and send me info on the creative process. Kudos, Ambrosia, this is how business is contacted. Regarding the perfume itself, she explained: "It's got all the animalistic base notes you'd hope to find in a decent musk perfume, with middle notes of warm roasted hazelnuts, sweet caramel and dark sultry cocoa liquor. OK, so I'm a food head. I can remember someone asking me years ago wether I prefer Sex or Food...and I honestly couldn't say!My idea of a perfect afternoon involves lot's of sexy nakedness...pheromones and wild passion....with intervals of chocolate cake, roasted nuts and more......Hey, why not make it perfect and combine them both?!"

To accomplish that she blended cocoa absolute (this stuff smells like real chocolate with an edge of human skin), real oud, two varieties of vetiver, hyraceum (harvested from a small animal cruelty-free and smelling intensely animalic), ambrette seed for that touch of vegetal muskiness and of course Australian sandalwood. The result smells like you're having an intimate dinner where the course is yourself and the drippings of caramelised chocolate are just the appetizer...You've been warned, this is sexy, comforting and tittilating stuff! She needn't have worried so much about the competition, her submission has been one of the best received ones!
Now, I'm more than psyched to try her Death by Chocolate. Perfume by Nature by Ambrosia can be found on this link.

Please visit the rest of the participating blogs and fora on the Mystery of Musk project following the links provided.

Photos by Paul Kiler on Mystery of Musk project.

Serge Lutens Bas de Soie: fragrance review

With his newest fragrant offering to the Gods, Serge Lutens invades the territory of Chanel. In lewd terms "Lutens does Chanel"! Simply put, his Bas de Soie (pronounced BA-de-SWAH) will help establish a new audience who have been hankering after new territories of upscale refinement, but will also challenge his older acolytes to engage in combat with new elements which they considered "stuffy" for long. An encomium to iris and hyacinth, Bas de Soie had me perplexed for several days after I broke into my preview sample, which is why I took my while to post a full review after announcing the news of its introduction a while back.

Baptizing fragrances with tactile, fabric-reminiscent names, as was Serge Noire and Fourreau Noir, is not a new game for Lutens. In this case the name is erotically charged as it translates as "silk stockings". The feeling of Bas de Soie is not sexualized however, but eroticized; there is a difference. Picture the repressed, frigid sexuality of bourgeois doctor's wife Catherine Deneuve in classic film Belle de Jour; she needs the compulsion of the underground, afternoon bordello in order to blossom into sensuousness and have an illicit lover with flawed teeth by the name of Marcel. Yes, I know, the flacon Severine has in her bathroom (and accidentally smashes) is Mitsouko, its own connotations enriching the viewer's thought process (You can read our own take in the article The Agony & Ecstacy: Control & Surrender in Fragrances). But the celebrated Roger Vivier and Yves Saint Laurent attire of respectability (see this spot-on analysis of her feet) recalls Bas de Soie more than that "doomed love affair scent" by Guerlain. The mere mention of that film sounds ~by 2010 blogging standards~ cliché, as it has been dragged through the mud to reference myriads of scents & associations. But never before had I felt that it was merited like it is now... What Serge Lutens himself says about it? ‘This fragrance strikes a fine balance between hyacinth and iris, which intermingle. It's a black mass where dark guipure encounters white lace, in a union that involves smocking the stocking with silk.’

This new Lutens Bas de Soie is crepuscular, silvery fresh, reminiscent of Iris Silver Mist in its unapologetic sexless positioning; although not quite, the former's greenness being less invasive than the nitriles in the latter (plus Bas de Soie feels like it smells of iris Pallida more convincingly). To expand the simile I made in the beginning, "Lutens does Chanel", besides the lewd implications that might infer, the effect isn't that far fetched; or less perversely appealing: After all, the man behind the jus, perfumer Chris Sheldrake, whose alma mater was Chanel, is indeed again working at Chanel after many years, his tenure still allowing him to continue the wondrous collaboration with the virtuoso of Le Palais Royal. The core of the Bas de Soie composition would indicate a bulbous, undergrowth smell fit for chthonian, Eleusinian deities; after all both orris and hyacinth come from undergrowth (one is a rhizome, the other a bulb). Yet it presents itself decidedly above the ground and into an expensive salon where pearls glimmer down long, ivory necks flanked by beige-blonde hair, and ivory terry cloth hides delicate shoulders.


The iris in Bas de Soie is dry, soapy rather more than powdery, retro starched instead of rooty (he explored this "starched" idea recently with the anti-perfume L'Eau Serge Lutens), with the expansive feel of luminous silver tentacles engulfing you, much like they do in Chanel No.19, 28 La Pausa and to a lesser degree Cristalle in Eau de Parfum (which use natural orris butter). The molecules giving iris its character of coolness are called irones and this feels like an irone-rich composition.
The hyacinth is subdued, not tremendously "oily" or warm like it can be (its cinnamic facets usually giving a peppery jolt) or even "romantic" like we know it from Chamade or Grand Amour. Instead what I smell is lightly metallic, soapy-sweet, the way orris fragrances can take a nuance of violets sometimes, with a wink to Balmain's Ivoire and a galbanum-substitute/artemisia top note. You'd be hard pressed to recognise specific flowers within the composition: rose or peony perhaps seem apparent to my nose, their soapier-citric facets exalted in favour of their sweeter, warmer, liqueur-like ones.

The cool "clean" and creamy drydown (musks and pale woods with a wink to Infusion d'Iris by Prada) confirm that this is an atypical Lutens which eschews the spice bazaar and the resinous mysticism he has familiarized us with for so long, in order to introduce a new direction of cool composure and aloof pedigree.

Tenacity is good and sillage is medium. I allow myself to be even more thrilled by the leathery Boxeuses, the Paris-exclusive which will launch in September 2010 as announced here, but Bas de Soie is something I'd wear with pleasure and yes, cool composure.

Bas de Soie is part of the export line, an Eau de Parfum in the standard oblong bottles of the Lutens line, available from the usual suspects on August 1st according to the official info (some take pre-orders). The limited edition bottle (depicted) shows a pair of crossed legs sketched, wearing...silk stockings of course.

Pics from the 1967 film by Luis Buñuel Belle de jour starring Catherine Deneuve, via frederika.canalblog.com, ctache.blogspot,leopoldphotos & hazardousoperation both on Photobucket. Bottle photo uploaded by HighMaintenanceGirl on MUA.

Perfumery Restrictions: More on IFRA 45th Amendement

The industry standard, Perfumer and Flavorist Magazine, did a post concerning the latest restrictions on perfumery ingredients, as determined by the International Fragrance Association (IFRA) in its 45th Amendement (You can read about past restrictions and ramifications clicking the label IFRA or Restrictions). We had breached the subject with saying it is not as severe as past version, but we're reverting with specifics.

The latest installment features seven changes. Of the announcement, IFRA president Jean-Pierre Houri said, “We have seen quite large Amendments in the past due to the change-over to our new Quantitative Risk Assessment (QRA) approach. This change-over process is now nearly complete and therefore we have a smaller Amendment.”

Newly Restricted (QRA) materials include:

*Dimethylcyclohex-3-ene-1-carbaldehyde (mixed isomers); CAS# 68737-61-1, 68039-49-6, 68039-48-5, 27939-60-2, 67801-65-4, 36635-35-5, 68084-52-6, 35145-02-9
*alpha-Methyl-1,3-benzodioxole-5-propionaldehyde (MMDHCA); CAS# 1205-17-0
*3-Phenylbutanal; CAS# 16251-77-7

Revised Restricted (QRA) materials include Verbena absolute (Lippia citriodora Kunth.), the culprit being its eye and skin sensitisation properties.

Revised Specifications include:2,2-Dimethyl-3-(3-tolyl)propan-1-ol (otherwise known as Majantol, which was used previously up to 20%, specifically for lily of the valley notes and in fruity-floral compositions especially for functional products), Musk Ketone which is prohibited, as well as Quinoline ~chemically speaking C9H7N~ due to its risk of skin sensitisation (The quinoline family mainly produces leather notes in fine fragrance such as in Shalimar or Bandit, but not Cuir de Russie which relies on birch tar -previously restricted)

Jennifer Aniston Goes Topless for her Fragrance & Britney issues Radiance

Jennifer Aniston went topless for the promotion of her new scent Lola Vie (basically LOL @ vie, which means "life" in French, as we had pointed out when first announcing the news on the scent). The campaign was shot at Cabo San Lucas in Mexico which happens to be Jennifer's favourite spot. The New York Daily News mentions: "In a series of sexy black-and-white shots to promote her new scent, Lolavie, the 41-year-old actress looks stunning as she poses topless, covering her chest with just her arms while wearing nothing but a white skirt hung low on her hips." The international campaign starts on Wednesday at Harrods department store in London where she will meet and greet customers and sign bottles for them.
Personally I don't think the campaign looks half bad. It's suggestive but not vulgar. What do you think?

EDIT TO ADD: A reader informs me that despite aspirations, the name was dropped in favour of simply "Jennifer Aniston" due to concerns over the already existing Lola by Marc Jacobs.

Britney Spears on the other hand isn't known for her non vulgarized image. In fact I'd bet there are good bucks to be made in actually condoning a vulgarized image, for some reason! Anyway, the troubled Pop princess has a lucrative business in the perfume segment nevertheless with 8 fragrances under her belt and counting...The 9th one, Radiance is set to launch this coming September 2010 and is purported to be a ‘stylish’ perfume. Encased in a faux rhinestone encrusted bottle, the girly design is blue and pink. Radiance by Britney Spears will smell like a bunch of ‘wild berries and soft, dewy petals’ which will include tuberose, jasmine, orange flower and iris. According to reports the new scent Radiance is set to be released in September. Prices? It will retail for $63 for 50 mL; $78 for 100 mL. Where? At Ebay, Sears and Pharmaprix/Shopper’s Crug Mart. Possibly the new fragrance will tie with a new album set to be released this year according to inside gossip. We'll see.
In the TV commercial, Spears sneaks out of a theatre to avoid a waiting crowd of photographers and fans. She then visits a fortune-teller, who asks the singer if she wants her to tell her about her future. “No thanks, I choose my own destiny,” replies Spears. (we will update when the clip becomes available)

The Givaudan iPerfumer Application: Cutting-Edge or Demystifying?

Technology would get to perfume; it was only a matter of time! Studies had suggested that "particularly among young people, there is no propensity to buy perfume, but on the contrary, they are enthusiastic about technology" (according to Maurizio Volpi). So in order to boost perfume sales, what better than to engage them through technology? This after all is the method employed by several companies of other products as well: entice with something irrelevant so as to stir into the wanted direction. We "consume" loads of digital media every day (blogging, Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, etc.) so is this the new direction, especially for luxury brands to communicate their message? And is this message a frank one? Vivien Westwood had said during a speech at Unesco: "We can lie to one person once, two persons twice.... but never to everyone everytime".

According to the press release by Givaudan who introduced the iPerfumer application (for iPhone) in mid-June, shortly after beauty giant Estée Lauder announced its Ascent iPhone application to facilitate in-store perfume shopping: "Givaudan, the industry-leading perfumery house has created a unique tool to help individuals select their perfect fragrance. Now available for free download from the Apple App Store, iPerfumer offers individuals tailored advice on which perfumes to try, removing the confusion that often surrounds choosing perfume. Revolutionary in its approach, iPerfumer is a personal fragrance consultant in your pocket. It provides fragrance recommendations to help make informed choices, either for yourself, or when buying gifts for others". The technique is a rather standard one, pioneered by Michael Edwards who also has his own "recommendations" method on his Fragrances of the World site and has Sephora utilize his system (by fragrance sub-families and common notes).
On iPerfumer, after identifying yourself by sex, age and country, you're asked to take note of the six olfactory families proposed (Citrus / Chypre / Floral / Fougere / Oriental / Woody) ~famous examples for each provided to make it easy for novices. Then you can enter some of the perfumes which you like. And after processing those results, the application recommends several fragrances for you personally.
But is the new iPerfumer application as plain sailing as all that? We decided to investigate.


Michel Gutsatz, a brand strategy expert at The Scriptorium Company and the head of Le Jardin Retrouve, takes a critical look at the iPerfumer application by Givaudan at LuxurySociety.com. His doubts corner three drawbacks which also seem crucial to me: no motivation to try out the recommended fragrances (no info, no story, nothing), lack of ergonomy in acessing previous part of the profile created, "sterile" treatment of perfumery (the application doesn't create any of the inherent magic of perfume).
The matter of Augmented Reality (a hot topic that garnered a lot of momentum after the success of James Cameron's Avatar) surfaces when talking about how the iPhone rates compared to other methods. iPhone applications are entertaining, but the technology within the iPhone (and soon the iPad) is not yet able to unlock the true potential of Augmented Reality to the same extent that different media (a web-cam enabled shop display, a home computer or laptop) can. In the luxury industry (and perfumes do belong there for better or worse) where gimmicks are usually not taken very seriously will the iPhone and its applications find the fertile ground they need to catch the eye of the consumer and would they need to make the leap from "techie geek" to "lifestyle" to do so?

My additional qualm is that the results garnered on the iPerfumer often bear little relation to what a seasoned perfume enthusiast would expect out of the submitted information to begin with. But bearing in mind how in order to get recommendations in the first place, you're asked to "rate" (enough) fragrances according to preference, I would think that the ulterior purpose of the application is to provide Givaudan with an extraordinary cheap market research tool via which to monitor the scented tastes of iPhone users worldwide! And it does look like it's going to be updated at intervals, with a version 2.0 to roll around when there is need for yet more monitoring and see how tastes have evolved.

What do you think?

The winner of the draw...

...for a full bottle of pure parfum by DSH Musk Eau Natural is Dionne! Congratulations!!

Please email me with a shipping address so I can forward to the perfumer to get your prize in the mail for you soon.

Thanks everyone for playing along and till the next one.

I'm reminding you that there are still three members who haven't contacted me for the Aftelier giveaway (or you can email Mandy at Aftelier directly): Lilacskin, Arch.memory and Lavanya. Please do so, the prizes care waiting to get mailed to you!

I will be announcing the winners of the full Tauer bottles giveaway in a short while.

And there will be a full review of a much anticipated non-yet launched perfume later on. ;-)

10 Unusual Summer Fragrance Choices

Wrapped-up as we so often are in the aphorisms about what we should or shouldn't be wearing ~ according to fashion trends, occasion, the weather or merely how sleepy we have rolled out of bed (you get my point)~ we often forget that perfume primarily has to do with sheer enjoyment! Yes, fitting the surroundings is all fine & dandy and probably earns us brownie points, but what about surprising our entourage (nay, surprising ourselves!) with unexpected choices that don't become stinkbombs either in the summer heat? While discussing this issue with my pal The Non Blonde we came up with memories about summers past, when no one really was wearing citrus dependables like Eau d'Hadrien and when the beauty of Chanel's Sycomore (or Guerlain's Vetiver pour Elle alternatively) hadn't been invented yet.





Here are some of my personal choices, which I have been enjoying on really hot ~and less than that~ summer days & nights. [Links direct you to full on reviews].

• Lightweight Ambers

I'm a child all over again: There is something nuzzling and welcome about ambers which seem to bloom when there is warmth around. No wonder they were first composed in the Middle East. For me, the non sweet, diaphanous ones which often leave a trail of frankincense remind me of the Aegean...the hot beach, the white church, the wreaths of flowers inside...

*Estee Lauder Private Collection Amber Ylang Ylang

Tropical, lush ylang ylang and slightly medicinal, non sweet amber sing a duet: the feeling of lying down on sugar-span sand, sun high above baking skin. And worries? Like a blister in the sun...they burst!

*I Profumi di Firenze Ambra del Nepal

Not Nepalese, really; I wore this on the island of Santorini, sketching the ruins at Akrotiri, diving at Palaia Kameni and seeing the sun set an agonisingly slow death at Oia. Something about the volcanic earth, all black and scorched, mixed well with this incensy amber with its cool finish. Making me fall in love with life all over again.

*Marc Jacobs Splash Winter Amber

Misnomer of the century: There's nothing wintery about this amber. Much like L'Eau d'Hiver is actually the peachy fuzz of a cloud in a springtime Monet sky, this light, powdery, easy amber is fluff and cotton coolness itself. A distant friend, who has since silenced herself, introduced me to it and I think its splash form is ~for once in perfumery~ perfectly apt: You want to bathe it in and its fleeting nature allows you to, come summer or winter. So very easy that you'd never need think about it.

• Fangly, Cool Chypres

What is it about cerebral chypres that appeals in the heat? Is it that I do hail from the Mediterranean where they naturally flourished? Probably. I just know they make me shiver with pleasure.

*Jacomo Silences

I first discovered the emerald green scalpel of Silences one summer when I was studying Italian "without toil" in order to accomodate university needs: required reading involved a certain Italian doctor who didn't have the good grace to get his research translated in any other language. One long-winded morning in the library ended into perfume discussion with the librarian assistant who was wearing...Silences. No pun whatsoever, I swear!

*Piguet Bandit

Bandit has long been my "sexy summer scent" when I'm all sweaty. In fact I cherish being sweaty when I'm wearing it, which is as rare a reaction for me as snowing in the middle of August is for weather forecasts in southern Europe. Why, you ask? Because the heat seems to bring out the very best elements in that state of undeliberate disarray, which might be indicative of its mischievous, promiscuous proclivities in the first place; after all Germaine Cellier did undress models off the runway off their underwear for "study" while composing.

*Shiseido Zen (original)

Zen has the bitter, cool taste that you expect brainy, tech-geek types to appreciate: Calatrava architecture, smoked aubergines and Pernod. It doesn't smell of any of these things, of course, but I happened to discover the vintage edition (there are at least three versions, see this) one summer when all these were combined in a whirwind in my life. The summer Olympics had come to Athens and though nothing was zen-like, Zen gave me some grounding and sang froid.

*Guerlain Derby

My wild card and an ace in the sleeve at that. Consider this the classiest choice among them all and save the best for last. Is it fair that it's intended for men? I should think adventurous women who were never tomboys would not only "get away with it", but would highlight its luxurious character even more. Basically Guerlain took the formulaic leather structure and span it on its head, adding the cool bitterness of artemisia and a minty note which make this one the chypre equivalent of the ice-cubes I melt on my chest on summer mornings when I can't bring myself to get dressed. I particularly enjoy the bracing, strident top! Wonderful in vintage form (1985), still amazing in the current Les Parisiennes edition and that's hopeful.

• Spicy Orientals

Not your typical "summery" category for sure. Yet sometimes they sing magically, with all the bright peak of crystal on a Fellini-esque ship of fools like our lives occasionaly become.

*Yves Saint Laurent Opium Fleur de Shangai

Opium summer editions have all been really good, which is almost a sacrilegious thought now that the real deal has been butchered irrevocably. This one is my favourite of the bunch, worn during romantic evening walks at the seashore, its orchid powderiness a welcome lightening -but not diluting- of the density of the original when it's been 38C all day.

*Krizia Teatro alla Scala

It's so easy to dismiss a spicy oriental, and a dressy one at that, on the power of its prowess. Well, fear not, the aldehydes and clove combo in this one gives the clean feeling of iron passing clean linen and the pepper spice would scare microbes on a petri-dish away. Big nights out, you're covered!

*L'Artisan Poivre Piquant

If Parfum Sacré had a little sister, permeated with eroticism, soft and pliable, this would be she. Drier, more reflective and without the emphatic rosiness, Poivre Piquant weaves in a cooling trail of incense into its peppercorns goodness to cut through the heat like tiny diamonds cut through crystal.



Don't forget to check out Gaia's atypical choices & memories at The Non Blonde.

For a more familiar, summer-friendly fragrance wardrobe for every occasion, please check last year's entry on this link.

Clips from the films The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (2005) by Sanaa Hamri, Le Mépris/Contempt (1963) by Jean-Luc Godard and E la Nave Va (And the Ship Sails On, 1973) by Federico Fellini.
Photo Swallow Dive (SPAARNESTAD PHOTO by Het Leven) via the Nationaal Archief