Friday, April 29, 2011

Scent for a Royal Wedding: The Fragrance of Kate Middleton on her Happiest Day


Friday's royal wedding of Kate Middleton to Prince William raised several questions as to what the bride and groom chose for their attire and the ambience of their memorable day. Among those, perfume aficionados were extra curious to find out Kate Middleton's (or shall we say Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge) personal fragrance. We had discussed how Kate used to enjoy Dune by Christian Dior in her student days before, a fragrance choice that showcased her special style and discerning taste. And hundreds of companies were clamoring for her attention. Floris went as far as creating a scent called Wedding Bouquet: "Created exclusively to celebrate the marriage of Prince William to Miss Catherine Middleton, Wedding Bouquet draws inspiration from the most acclaimed Floris wedding fragrances of the past whilst introducing a modern twist using a white flower theme." And so did Grossmith with Bethrothal, as we reported previously on these pages.

But for her special day Catherine Middleton chose White Gardenia Petals by Illuminum, a quite recent release, according to Michael Donovan of Illuminum's PR Company. The fragrance is described "As fragrant as a bouquet of white flowers, quivering in the gentle April breeze, this is a delicate and nuanced scent. The top note of stately gardenia evokes classicism, whilst heart notes of ylang ylang, muguet and jasmine bring a trio of frivolous white flowers into play. Amber wood underscores this light, fresh bouquet, adding depth and deep rooted tradition." It is available at Roullier White.

For the decoration and scenting of the Westminster Abbey and the guests' and VIP bathrooms, the PR team from Jo Malone informs me that they went with their room fragrances & candles (Orange Blossom, Grapefruit and the perennial favourite Lime, Basil & Mandarin)


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Fragrance Choices in Relation to Character & Ambience Delineation in Novels

"He had been before in drawing rooms hung with red damask, with pictures 'of the Italian school'; what struck him was the way in which Medora Manson's shabby hired house, with its blightened background of pampas grass and Rogers statuettes, had, by a turn of the hand, and the skillful use of a few properties, been transformed into something intimate, 'foreign', subtly suggestive of old romantic scenes and sentiments. He tried to analyse the trick, to find a clue to it in the way the chairs and tables were grouped, in the fact that only two Jacqueminot roses (of which nobody ever bought less than a dozen) had been placed in the slender vase at his elbow, and in the vague pervading perfume that was not what one put on handkerchiefs, but rather like the scent of some far-off bazaar, a smell made up of Turkish coffee and ambergris and dried roses."
~Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence


I have been re-reading Wharton's masterpiece and noticing page after page the meticulous care with which the author has created a vivid universe of that crumbling world of social conventions. I follow the eyes and thoughts of late 19th century young gentleman Newland Archer, about to marry the perfect girl of his New York circle, May Welland, but who nevertheless ~out of a rebellion of his inquisitive spirit~ ends up in a frustrated, unfulfilled love story with her cousin, the Countess Olenska; a woman who inwardly snubs conventions, but seems eternally trapped by them in a pre-arranged world of genteel suffocation. No detail has been spared by the author in delineating the mores, the customs, the rites and rituals of a disappearing world and, within it all, one of the most characteristic seems to be the one hinting at smells; such as the above passage, recounting the house in which the Countess Olenska stays, a house she has decorated herself and which reflects her rebellious, cosmopolitan and free nature.

Other fragrant details surface frequently too: May Welland receives posies of lilies of the valley daily ~ Diana-like, pure, beautiful, virginal and above board~ all through her engagement to Newland. As he shops for her bouquet he suddenly notices...
..."a cluster of yellow roses. He had never seen any as sun-golden before and his first impulse was to send them to May instead of the lilies. But they did not look like her -there was something too rich, too strong, in their fiery beauty. In a sudden revulsion of mood, and almost without knowing what he did, he signed to the florist to lay the roses in another long box, and slipped his card into a second envelope, on which he wrote the name of the Countess Olenska; then, just as he was turning away, he drew the card out again, and left the empty envelope on the box".
Such small details can create a whole scene! The lily of the valley stands as the symbol of the virgin bride who is spotless and seems frail, yet surfaces triumphant in the conventional approach to marriage she seeks in the end, much like the aroma of the tiny blossom is piercingly sweet and surpasses most others. The sun-yellow rose is more mature, more feminine in a retro, "full" way, symbolising the giving and open nature of Ellen Olenska, its delicate scent a crumbling beauty that is trampled by those whose trail travels farthest.

Perfume mentions in novels, whether by general description or by specific brand names is not new, but it always strikes me as poignant and significant in setting the mood and tone of the literary work at hand. Indeed, there are books in which it sets the very plot, like obvious paradigm Das Parfum by Patrick Süskind, À Rebours (Against the Grain) by J.K. Huysmans or Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins. Then, they are those which use perfume references creatively, like The Petty Demon (Melkiy Bes) by Fyodor Sologub, chronicling Peredonov's ambition to rise from instructor to rural gymnasium to school inspector as well as the erotic dalliance between Sasha Pulnivok and Lyudmilla Rutilova.
Take White Oleander by Janet Finch as well, where every character signals a hidden side of them by their choice of fragrance: The biological mom looks stealthy if deliquent, but smells of shy, tender violets. The foster mom with the suicidal tendencies chooses L'Air du Temps, fusing her frail personality with the graceful and assured arc of the Nina Ricci's classic. The upscale hooker down the road wears steely and classy chypre Ma Griffe by Carven. Even the fragrant gift of the promiscuous neighbour to the girl heroine, Penhaligon's Love Potion No.9, is a plea and realisation for what the protagonist needs most: approval.

In Nancy Mitford's The Pursuit of Love the protagonist's wearing of Guerlain's classic Après l'Ondée elicits favourable reception. In Joanne Harris's Chocolat the depiction of all the village women wearing Chanel No.5, till the arrival of the trail blaizer heroine, is akin to a red flag of conventions-adoring set to be shred to pieces. In Dodie Smith's I Capture the Castle the scent that permeates the romantic atmosphere is Penhaligon's Bluebell; as British as you can get.
Sometimes scent in novels can even become an idée fixe:
"...and I could see Maxim standing at the foot of the stairs, laughing, shaking hands, turning to someone who stood by his side, tall and slim, with dark hair, said the bishop's wife, dark hair against a white face, someone whose quick eyes saw to the comfort of her guests, who gave an order over her shoulder to a servant, someone who was never awkward, never without grace, who when she danced left a stab of perfume in the air like a white azalea."
Thus writes Daphne du Maurier in Rebecca and continues:
"And then I knew that the vanished scent upon the handkerchief was the same as the crushed white petals of the azaleas in the Happy Valley." Or "The wardrobe smelt stuffy, queer. The azalea scent, so fragrant and delicate in the air, had turned stale in the wardrobe, tarnishing the silver dresses and the brocade, and the breath of it wafted toward me now from the open doors, faded and old."
And who can forget literary giant Honoré de Balzac when he describes down to the filthy detail and to the last minutiae the places where his heroes live and work in Père Goriot?

Fragrance references and scented descriptions add a whole different sublayer to a novel's charm and sometimes worth, by injecting it with a subtle nuance like nothing else. Simply put, the novel would be incomplete without referring that sense which makes up for so many of our memories, sentiments, preconceptions and aversions.


What about you? Do you enjoy fragrance references in novels or do they distract you? And which are your favourites? Share them in the comments.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Chanel extraits now available online

Oh glorious day for our American readers! The renowned Chanel extraits (No.22, Bois des Iles, Cuir de Russie and Gardenia) are now available online for buyers in the USA.


The company offers complimentary shipping ONLY for April 29th until 11:59PM EST.
And they won't be the only ones, it seems!! (may our wishes for 31 Rue Cambon and Sycomore extrait be granted)

I will be having another post coming up shortly, I have been getting late on some projects and working on those. Stay tuned for your feedback is wanted!

Cooking with Essential Oils: Perfuming Food with Tuberose and Dill

One of the greatest joys of being a perfume writer and an amateur cook is combining the appreciation of scents into fields that surpass their own boundaries and leep into peripheral matter. Whenever I pick up a fresh cucumber at the open market for my preparation of tzatziki dip I lean to smell its smooth peel, often asking the seller to cut one in half in front of my very eyes so I can judge by smell; and nary does a day of food shopping goes by that I am not reminded by the aromata in front of me of ingredients in fine fragrance. The same principle applies when picking up flowers to adorn my house at the florist's, the hothouse or just while trailblaizing in the countryside; succumbing to the grace of the scent bouquet that even the simplest blossom exhibits is akin to discovering the complexity of the cosmos.

Imagine my elation when I was asked by a perfumer who has been using, procuring and even harvesting her own aromatic essences for long to test her newly-launched essences for food. For a long time I thought I was the only one to use orange blossom hydrosol for my Christmas cookies, yuzu essence to aromatize my sponge cake and peppermint drops into the big vat of Mojito cocktail served on the verandahs when entertaining in the summertime. Apparently, I was not and now many more will find it easier still.


Anya McCoy who just launched this line assures us that the essential oils used are of the highest quality and tested for tolerance in use in food: "I've been using natural essential oils and absolutes to perfume my food and drinks since 1978. I have been sourcing quality oils since 1970, so please know that the oils I offer for the Anya's Garden food and drink line are of the highest quality. These are the same aromatic oils that I use in my perfumes. [...]These oils and absolutes are GRAS - Generally Recognized as Safe by the USDA. They may also be used for creating perfumes.".



In what is thought of as "oils" she also has several things to divulge: "Essential oils are made by steam- or hydrodiffusion of plant materials, in a process called 'distillation'. The "oils" aren't necessarily oils as we think of them, meaning the fixed oils. They're often much more ethereal than that, and many are lighter than water, and will float on water. However, water can also be used to disperse them, especially when the tiny amount you'll be using is placed in water. You can experiment with seltzer water, some simple syrup and ice."

The two essences with which I played extensively were tuberose and dill, tuberose being an essence I picked myself exactly because of its challenging nature which doesn't immediately produce thoughts related to food. And yet Tuberose Absolute (Polianthus tuberosa) is a must for anyone with an interest in perfumery, but also anyone with the desire to experience the complexity of nature, red in tooth and claw! Perfumes try to approximate with Beyond Love by Kilian and Carnal Flower being perhaps the truest to realism, although a few, such as Fracas or Tubereuse Criminelle, tend to overshadow some aspects in order to highlight others; butteriness and sweetness via copious orange blossom in the Piguet classic, menthol via camphoraceous notes in the Lutens cult scent.
My thinking about experiencing this marvel of nature in consumable form went around the facets of tuberose essence itself: Being familiar with Indian tuberose absolute I well knew the intensity of its deep, intoxicating aroma with rubbery and green tonalities over the lactonic sweet and "cheesier" ones.
My mind went into the route of cordials, long cool drinks that are always a refreshing and aromatic proposition welcome on our shores, to exploit the sweeter side of tuberose, but also giving an unexpected jolt that would create the effect that juniper produces in good gin: aromatic depth and crispness. The following recipe can be a good substitute of a Kir Royale or a Spritzer if instead of water you add some brut Champagne.
I'm also starting to think of what it might do to a decent Margherita!

Recipe for Lime and Tuberose Cordial
Ingredients

  • Limes
  • Sugar granulated
  • Anya's Garden tuberose essence
  • crushed ice
  • fresh spearmint for decoration
  • optional: Champagne, brut

Method
  • Hand-juice as many limes as you like (I like the rougher "texture" of hand-juicing)
  • Measure the juice using a measuring jug to determine sugar ratio
  • For every litre of juice you will need 1 kilo of granulated sugar
  • Put the juice and sugar into a large pan and heat very gently over low heat
  • Stirring continually heat till the sugar is completely dissolved
  • Add one drop of tuberose essence for every litre of juice when "cooking" has finished
  • Let it cool, then add chilled water/champagne and crushed ice and decorate with spearmint
À votre santé!

Dill is another aroma with which I am intimately familiar. Fresh dill is a joy; small bunches of long, stamen-like delicate "leaves" that get routinely chopped off into soups, yoghurt pastes and cheese-pies, alongside shallots and fresh spearmint, or sprinkled onto fresh sliced cucumbers themselves sprinkled with salt. They aromatize the whole kitchen with the scents of springtime.
I also adore dill in hovmästarsås, the traditional Swedish sauce that accompanies gravlax, the cured hearty salmon dish. The fresh, slightly peppery, slightly wet aroma of dill mixes with sugary mustard and is cut by the saltiness of the fish.

To play with dill essence, I used it in something I make almost every week: tzatziki dip. This garlicky, thick paste is traditionally Greek and accompanies almost every variety of charcoal-grilled meat as well as several dishes of pasta, such as the famous Kahzak and Kyrguz recipe for Tatar Böregi (which the Turkish and the Greek who borrowed it call it "manti"). It's also the meanest dip for crudites! Just remember to brush your teeth and tongue afterwards to get rid of the garlic smell.


Recipe for Tzatziki Paste with Dill essence

Ingredients

  • 2 fresh and aromatic cucumbers (do NOT buy if they don't smell fresh and green)
  • 2 large pots of fresh, super thick strained Greek yoghurt with at least 8% solid fats (Fage is the widest distrubted brand and it's very good in 10% fat content, but if you have a local Middle-Eastern deli go and ask for fresh "strained yoghurt" served and packed by weight on cellophane)
  • Anya's Garden dill essence
  • 5-8 cloves of garlic (it's best to use raw garlic than powdered, it's more authentic)
  • salt and lemon zest to taste
  • a spoonful of extra virgin olive oil
  • optional: capers and black olives for decorating

Method
  • Empty the yoghurt into a big bowl and let it sit covered with a towel. It might have a little bit of water surfacing. Throw that out with a spoon carefully. You want it to be as thick and creamy as possible.
  • Wash the cucumbers thoroughly and shred them in an onion hand-shredder/grater roughly
  • Add the cucumbers into the yoghurt
  • Clean and slice the garlic finely, you want it to be imperceptible, add to yoghurt
  • Put 3-4 drops of dill essence into the mix
  • Add lemon zest and salt to taste
  • Decorate with the capers and olives and refrigerate. The longer it sits the richer it tastes.
  • When you serve, spill the extra virgin olive oil on top. It makes the colours and flavours come alive!
Καλή όρεξη!


You can purchase the aromatic essences directly off Anya's Garden site. There will be more additions in the beginning of May. Tuberose is among them.


Other bloggers are writing about this too! Check out Anne's Food, Ca Fleure Bon, Better Baking, Bois de Jasmin and Stirring the Senses.

Educational Resource:
Guide to Career Education can assist amateur cooks with finding a good mix of art and cooking classes that will help you think outside the box when it comes to your cooking creations.


Disclosure: I was sent a sample of the essential oils by the perfumer.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

L'Artisan Mandarine: back again!


L'Artisan Parfumeur is intent on bringing back some of their back catalogue scents: After Fleur d'Oranger Harvest news, Mandarine Tout Simplement by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti (a limited edition from summer 2006) is returning under the name "Mandarine": 100ml of Eau de Toilette for 100$.
L'Artisan Mandarine will be available for purchase on the official L'Artisan site soon. Take care it's again a limited edition, so if you liked it then, grab it now.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Grossmith Bethrothal: new fragrance

A beautiful fragrance revival in time for a fairy tale wedding...the one of Prince William and Kate Middleton. But the lineage goes far, far back into the Royal family of England. The original Betrothal perfume was made by the vintage British Grossmith perfumery, established in 1835, for Princess May (Mary of Teck), on the occasion of her wedding to King George V. Then the princess became the newly crowned Queen Mary, the very one who happens to be Prince William's great-great grandmother! History is very much present in Betrothal’s revival in time for today’s royal wedding of William and Kate Middleton.



Bethrothal is a floral fragrance, a "floral bouquet" (i.e. a fragrance comprised of several flowery essences) with a citrus opening which blooms into the floral heart of Rose de Mai and jasmine. Working closely with Roja Dove, much like he did for Hasu no Hana, Shem el Nessim, and Phul Nana, Simon Brooke, the owner of the old Grossmith brand, zeroed into the finest ingredients for their relaunched perfumes and therefore on ‘Rose de Mai’ which is the official name of this rose variety which is specifically grown in the tiny town of Grasse, in France. Heliotrope mixed with ylang ylang and neroli, clean and yet sensuous notes, which recall powder puffs of yore, yet with a modern feel. The formula was inspired by the ingredients and ratios found among the archives of the brand, but the composition is revived to follow modern exigencies.

The modern bottle follows the elegant Baccarat crystal design of the rest of the Grossmith line. In the pic you can see the vintage bottles.
Grossmith Bethrothal will be exclusively made available after the Royal wedding, in either 10ml or 50ml bottles, and may be purchased from Grossmithlondon.com.

10ml: £195
50ml: £375

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Grossmith news & reviews

Honore des Pres Vamp a NY: fragrance review

Forget everything you might associate with vamps, vampires or New York City; Vamp à NY by all naturals line Honoré des Prés is the perfect Hitchcockian MacGuffin. It's a fragrance that begs to be worn by someone intelligent enough to not have any aspirations of appearing brainy; someone with fuschia painted lips popping a gigantic pink bubblegum just for the heck of it or at the very least soap bubbles at a party. Or, else, by someone sporting the XY chromosome and enough humour to not be afraid to challenge smartly. Anything else and it would be a travesty. But the name is essential to the (misleading) plot.



Vamp à NY by Honoré des Prés opens on a typical light camphor note (via tuberose absolute, which also smells a bit like buttered/creamed pop corn with peaches sliced on top, due to the lactone content; see more of that "peaches n' cream" effect on Péché Cardinal) and segues into a rum-like booziness. A logical choice on the part of perfumer Olivia Giacobetti because of the coconut nuances of both the flower and the tropical associations this exotic bloom brings to mind. Indeed the hint of vanillic coconut recalls tanning oils, making this one tuberose fragrance which leans most to the tropical side than almost anything else. The effect thrives on a balsamic quality about it that were it an oriental we would be talking about a snuggly cashmere sweater scent. But it's its summery equivalent.
The intensely sweet, profusely fruity progression is full of pink jasmine (and I think I smell ylang ylang with a hint of sassafras) which naturally recalls those giant pink Bazooka bubblegums we popped as children. March notes it holds "a peculiarly synthetic quality to [her] nose — it’s just sooo much and so odd, with its root beer, banana Runts and vanilla-caramel Sugar Daddy." Luckily for me, I don't have these particular American childhood associations, funny as she makes them to be, but I can see how this would be a polarising scent.

Needless to say, if you're opposed to sweet white florals en masse, you need to steer clear away without further thought; this is, despite its botanical provenance (100% certified organic ingredients), a VERY sweet floral! Those who can appreciate the buttery quality of intensely flowery Fracas however might find that the addition of Vamp à NY into the tuberose canon is not only a sort of homage but also a thoughtful and truly wonderful chapter; a luscious scent!
The necessity to own this delightfully campy & fun fragrance only comes when comparing with other tuberose/"huge white floral scents": Fracas is similarly buttery, yet grander and with more pronounced oomph, making it more of an entrance perfume. Carnal Flower is greener overall with a mock sophistication beneath its easy veneer. Tubéreuse Criminelle is truer to vampirism than this one; it's cool, silkier, with a more mentholated opening. Compared with Manoumalia, the latter is earthy, with more vetiver, certainly less sweet than Vamp à NY, intent as the former is on the fragrea blossom and the hint of spice. Nuit de Tubéreuse is more complex with a mildew thing going on, possibly stemming from a desire to appear brainier than it is. Vamp à NY actually mostly resembles the mood and feel of Songes, especially in Eau de Toilette concentration, which is of course full of ylang ylang, and it also reminded me of the little-known (and very rare now) original version of Jour de Fête by L'Artisan Parfumeur ~when the brand was still run by Jean Laporte and this was a quirky white floral scent, instead of a nutty gourmand)

Quiet sillage with rather good lasting power for a botanical fragrance makes it even more enjoyable; I'm sorely tempted to search for more!


Notes for Vamp à NY by Honoré des Prés:
Top: tuberose, rum
Heart: Bourbon vanilla
Base: tuberose, Peru balsam, Tolu balsam, benzoin

Vamp à NY by Honoré des Prés (a niche brand directed by Christian David) is part of the "New York Collection" which debuted at French Colette and is now available at select stockists. The 2010 collection includes three fragrances: I Love les Carottes, Love Coco and Vamp à NY, created of 100% natural ingredients by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti. These organic fragrances are packed in an unconventional way; as depicted, the bottles of 50ml Eau de Parfum come in plastic cups similar to those in which New Yorkers take out their coffee in.
Misleading!

Photograph by John Rawlings for a vintage Vogue photoshoot.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Le Labo Santal 33: new fragrance

An open fire… The soft drift of smoke… Where sensuality rises after the light has gone. This is how niche fragrance brand Le Labo introduces their latest release, Santal 33, based around the myth of the American West and the beckoning scent of wood.



SANTAL 33 is the second addition to the classic perfume collection since the creation of Le Labo in 2006 and was inspired by Santal 26, the brand's cult candle scent.
The main ingredients/notes entering Le Labo's Santal 33 are Australian sandalwood (NB. this is a different variety with a different scent than the traditional Indian Mysore wood), papyrus, cedarwood, cardamom, iris, violet, ambrox and a leather accord.
The new scent is presented in a 30% concentration of essential oils, classified as an Eau de Parfum but it could be considered as an extrait.

But what inspired the new scent, you ask, wondering on my mentioning the American West on top? Here's what they have to say: "Do you remember the old Marlboro ads? A man and his horse in front of the fire on a great plain under tall, blue evening skies - A defining image of the spirit of the American West with all it implied about masculinity and personal freedom. This man, firelight in his face, leaning on the worn leather saddle, alone with the desert wind, an icon so powerful that every man wanted to be him and every woman wanted to have him...
From this memory is born SANTAL 33: the ambition to create an olfactive form inspired by the great American myth still a source of fantasy for the rest of the world...A perfume that touches the sensual universality of this icon... that would intoxicate a man as much as a woman... that introduces our use of cardamom, iris, violet, ambrox which crackle in the formula and bring to this smoking wood alloy (Australian sandalwood, papyrus, cedarwood) some spicy, leathery, musky notes, and gives this perfume its unisex signature and addictive comfort."

I would have loved to mention the ingenious mock-tweets that the Le Labo PR machine has sent along (one of them includes a well-known ~among perfume circles~ authoring duet who smashed the rest of them with a bludgeon and which implies they'll do so for this one a priori), but I suppose lawyers would be working overtime in that eventuality. They're hilarious though, I had a belly laugh; great job, chaps!

The new Le Labo is a Colette exclusive until May 15th for €110 for 50ml/1.7oz. Later on it will surface at the usual suspects.

info via press release, photo by Jen Dessinger via Le Labo manipulated by me

Demeter Fragrance Library Wisteria: fragrance review

Demeter Fragrance Library hides many little gems: from the convincing ivy green note of mysterious evil of Poison Ivy to the exact replication of the ionically charged and just outright lovely wet scent of a baby's humidifier caught in Rain, the line never fails to present one with small epiphanies and delighted coos of small discoveries where you least expect it (They have things like Laundromat, Belladonna, Sex on the Beach, referencing the cocktail....an endless pit of joyful playing around). So I wasn't really astounded to find their Wisteria cologne was actually good.


Wisteria by Demeter goes where upscale fine fragrance doesn't go, who knows for what inexplicable reason: It creates the beautiful, utterly gorgeous scent of the mauve hanging grappes of wisteria (glycine), perched like bunches of decadent grapes over terraces, latticework and verandahs in early spring. A fusion of spicy goodness reveals itself from the core; a middle road between peppery twinkle, clovey note, and carnations, with a side of a somewhat oily green nuance reminiscent of hyacinth and lilacs. All these facets are surprisingly caught in Demeter's Wisteria, a soliflore that is lush and rich like the natural flower.
The scent starts a little alcoholic at first but the progression into an intense spicy floral is more than enough to compensate. Sadly presented only in Eau de Cologne, but with rather good lasting power nonetheless. If you like spicy florals, carnation scents or just love the mauve blossoms themselves, there are good chances you might like Wisteria by Demeter.

At 20$ for 1oz it is an unmissable bargain. If you know of European based online outlets for this, do let me know in the comments.

photo via armchairfrance.com

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Christos Anesti



The music piece "Christos Anesti" (Resurrection) is performed by Vangelis and sung by actress Irene Papas. Released as part of the 1986 Vangelis CD "Rapsodies". Music & lyrics based on the Greek-Orthodox easter hymn Christos Anesti ("Christ is Risen").
[Originally uploaded by Babylonianman on Youtube].

May you all feel a regeneration in your soul this spring!




The music piece "Christos Anesti" (Resurrection) is performed by Vangelis and sung by actress Irene Papas. Released as part of the 1986 Vangelis CD "Rapsodies". Music & lyrics based on the Greek-Orthodox easter hymn Christos Anesti ("Christ is Risen").
[Originally uploaded by Babylonianman on Youtube].

May you all feel a regeneration in your soul this spring!

Friday, April 22, 2011

The aromata of Greek Easter & a Recipe

It's no hyperbole to say there is no celebration more joyful, more optimistic, more heart-wrenching, in its way, in all of the Greek calendar (and it is already full of those) than Orthodox Easter. The awakening of spring, which sheds its pagan archetypes shining upon everything, is walking hand in hand with the tradition of a pious Christianity that is nevertheless smiling, instead of morose, and lenient, instead of boasting a stern Biblical face.


In the processions of the Holy Week, especially in the sunny, picturesque countryside and on the numerous islands, I can still witness the joie de vivre that can exist only in cultures that have been deprived for long; it is only then that people can appreciate the smalleest pleasures, the generosity of nature itself, the simple human contact that needs no social agenda whatsoever. Man is enjoying life, much like he did in the classical era, because he's not entirely convinced there will be a better one, even though the prospect of one delights his soul through the promise of spring's and Christ's resurgence. In Greece where the National Revolution also symbolically sprang along with the first throes of spring, resurgence takes on a loaded nuance: the soul fills with renewed courage for every hardship ahead.

The spring air is aromatized with fragrant effluvia from trees and plants, an intoxicating bouquet that is hard to forget: bigaradiers with orange blossoms in full bloom, bushes of lilacs (called Πασχαλιά/Pashalia in Greek because they bloom exactly during the month of April, when Pasha is celebrated), violets in deep shades but also stocks (Mathiola longipetala) with their spicy, skatole-rich, intense aroma. Dill, thyme, spearmint and humble chamomille are beginning to make the countryside smell like a giant pasture or one enormous kitchen herbs cabinet.
And of course food, glorious food: from red Easter eggs, which make households smell of vinegar and onion peel (traditionally used to "anchor" the dye on the hand-painted egg) as they're prepared on the eve of Good Friday, to the succulent, sweet, cardamom-laced Eastern bread which whets the appetite for the feast of Sunday.

Greek Easter is a Dionysian celebration...

The following recipe, characteristic of spring herbs and traditions in Greece, is of Tzeeyerosarmades/Τζιγεροσαρμάδες: Tzeeyeri means internal organs and is a Turkish word, metaphorically used as an affectionate term for children, as those come indeed from a mother's insides. Sarmas (pl. sarmades) is anything closed up in a small handful "pocket" container, a cook term that is quite usual in other recipes of the Mediterranean region as well.
The dish is cholesterol ahoy, full as it is with lamb organs and animal fat, but its aromatic bouquet of the herbs of Greek spring, dill, spearmint and fresh green onions, is mouthwatering. I suggest you accompany it with a good dry red. As it is a mainstay in our family's Eastern table, our usual coupling is with a tannin-rich full-bodied Xinomauro variety from where the recipe originates from: the northern extremeties of Greek soil, the plains of southern, Greek Macedonia.



Tzigerosarmades (Tzee-ye-ro-saMA-des) from Greek Macedonia

You will need for 6-8 persons:

the internal organs of 2 lambs (offal, but essentially liver, spleen, heart, lungs, kidneys and throughly cleansed~with a knitting needle~ intenstines; you might skip the intestines if it makes you uncomfrotable)
the peritonium of 2 lambs, removed by a skilled butcher with much care (you want it to be as uniformand unbroken as possible)
3 whole eggs, preferably free-range
1 egg yolk for smearing at the finish
1 dry onion, chopped in small pieces
3-4 bunches of "fresh green onions"/shallots with their stems
3/4 cup of Karolina rice (a variety used in "gemista" or substitute with parlboiled rice)
1 small bunch of fresh dill
1 small bunch of fresh spearmint
salt and pepper to taste
a couple of spoonfuls of extra virgin olive oil

Optional, to accompany the dish: a few potatoes for roasting and dry oregano, chopped garlic and lemon juice for the potatoes

1. Put the carefully cleansed intenstines, liver, spleen, lungs and kidneys of the lamb into boiling water and let them boil for a few minutes, until relatively firm.
2. Drain and chop finely (not bigger than a small hazelnut) all of it. Put aside.
3. Take a large, deep pan and put a couple of spoonfuls of extra virgin oil in it, over low fire. Put the two kinds of onions/shallots finely chopped in it. Put the finely chopped dill and spearmint as well. Stir for a little while until they become transparent.
4. Put the chopped livers etc., the rice, salt and pepper and let the mix cook on low stove until the rice is cooked thoroughly.
5. In the meantime, put the peritonium membrane in warm weather so it expands and softens and becomes pliable like an elastic membrane (which it is essentially). When ready, drain and open up on a clean surface. You want to cut pieces of it, as large as your palm or a small hankerchief.
6. Return to the pan and break the 3 eggs and stir gently. Leave it on the stove for a minute more, then withdraw.
7. You are now ready to fill the little "pieces" of the membrane. Put about a spoonful of the mix in each and gently close them with ends tucked on the underside. They should resemble round patties of about 8-10 cm circumference. Put one by one in a big ovenproof pan and very gently brush them with egg yolk diluted in a few drops of water (this will give a fine glaze!).
Optional step
: If you want you might put some chopped potatoes around or in the middle, salted & peppered and sprinkled with chopped garlic, dried oregano and lemon juice; they accompany the dish just fine. They don't need any cooking oil, because the fat from the meat will nicely get into their flesh and make them "honied".
8. Roast the dish slowly in the oven at no more than 150C mark until the membrane has become golden and lightly crisp. If you have put potatoes in, the potatoes might need a bit more time to get done, so put a piece of aluminum foil over the tzeeyerosarmades in case they dry up too much in the process.

Serve hot with sprinkled lemon juice or accompany with strained Greek yoghurt, which provides the essential backdrop of something cool and tangy. Accompany with a good, dry red wine rich in tannins to cut the "fat" and possibly a fresh strawberry dessert that will cleanse the palate, toasting to the gods of Greek hospitality. And resist the urge to lick your fingers!

Photo of Spring in ancient Olympia in the Peloponnese, Greece by azbeen, via wooz.gr. Photo of sarmades via argiro.gr

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Frederic Malle Lys Mediterranee: fragrance review

On Good Friday
weary I shuffle my steps,
at the weary light of day.
Lilies of spring I bring you
and lay upon your cross ~
tear-soaked friend,
First among the first.
~Nikos Gatsos, Days of Epitaph*

A different lily, a wearable lily
The astrigent and almost aqueous, saline opening of Lys Méditerranée in the Frédéric Malle Editions des Parfums line is highly surprising for those who have been accustomed to florist type lilies; crystalline and stark in their cellophane, premature mummies in dolled up sarcophagi, looking at you sterny and haughty, like stuffed owls out of Psycho. But wild lilies in the basin of the Mediterranean sea are routinely sprayed by the salty spray of the deep blue sea, gaining an overlay of odour that is reminiscent of cured meats, and of the contrast of sandpaper-like fresh roughness against the nose beside the intense, waxy petals spiciness.

Issued in 2000 and composed by legendary perfumer Edouard Fléchier, in my opinion Lys Méditerranée is definitely among the masterpieces in the line, as evidenced by my impressive finishing of a whole bottle of it during last spring and summer. It is an impressionistic composition capturing a moment in time and place perfectly: Easter lilies in all their rustic splendor, an affair of freshness and lushness entwined, a shady terrace on some villa on Patmos island or the boardwalk in Nice. Checking the fragrance notes, we know they got the paysage references right: lilies, salty water, angelica, lily of the valley and water lily, orange blossom even: Pure Med! White lilies were cultivated in ancient Crete and Greece, as evidenced by the frescoes in Knossos. The lily was revered by the Greeks as sprouting from the milk of Hera, queen of the gods.

Scent Profile
The ginger spiciness in Lys Méditerranée perks the nose, imbuing the lily bouquet with a convincing life-like chord, ginger lilies staying on throughout the arc of the linear composition; those who have an aversion to spice might find it too much, too floral but I'm not among them. There is a huge orange blossom note hidden in there and strong salicylates (naturally inherent in lily) which manage to imbue freshness rather than excessive floralcy.
The base exhibits a balance of muskiness, a very thin line between not quite clean and borderline carnal, without excessive sweetness or cheap tricks. In fact the delicately, musky-vanillic vegetal theme recalls to mind the feeling of Vanille Galante in the Hermessences collection, also heavy on the salicylates. The style is comparable, even though Lys projects as a higher octave overall and seems to include jasmolactones giving an almost gardenia-like greeness. Comparing it with another pure lily scent, Serge Lutens's angelic and sublimely creamy Un Lys, I find that Lys Méditerranée is more intense, shimmering with a less cherubic cheek; less vanillic, muskier, saltier, a tad rougher if you will. And despite the freshness it lasts and lasts.

What is it that makes this great fragrance largely unsung then? Pure programmatic association. Perfume lovers have developed a keen displeasure against "marine" notes, vexed by the catapulting chords used on mainstream perfumery which hammered us with artificial "freshness" for years on end ~before giving way to tooth-decaying sweetness, that is! Time to ditch it for once, this is seriously great work.

Notes for F.Malle Lys Méditerranée:
Top notes: sea water, lily of the valley and ginger
Middle notes: angelica, lily, orange blossom and lotus
Base notes: vanilla and musk

Available as eau de parfum by F.Malle on their official site and at Barneys.

*translation by Elena Vosnaki

Fashion photo shoot on Patmos island, Greece, by photographer Camilla Akrans for T Style magazine of the New York Times, Travel supplement summer 2009.

Diptyque Opopanax: fragrance (for home & beyond) review

The practice of wearing room fragrance as personal scent isn't totally revolutionary on my part (everyone raves, me included, about incense-y Essence of John Galliano by -recently controversial- designer Galliano) but Opopanax by Diptyque is my very own personal "discovery" down that path of delightful addiction that plagues at least some of the aficionados of scent. Basically a room spray (with its fine fragrance counterpart being Eau Lente by the same brand, which I also like a lot), Opopanax is more complex and nuanced than its simplistic name would suggest; which is exactly what prompted me to experiment with it in the first place.


Opopanax (also spelled "opoponax") is a secretion from the stems of the plant Opopanax chironium, or "sweet myrrh", which is then dried out in the sun. Coming from a sunny climate where the yellow flowers of this "noblest ofincense gums", to quote king Solomon himself, are a common enough sight, I have somewhat of an affinity with this sweet smelling essence. It might also have to do with the delightful etymology: ὀποπάναξ comes from the Greek words ὀπός and πανάκεια, literally "total healing through plant essence".

In Diptyque's Opopanax apart from the fluffy, powdery woody, exotically sensuous and all around cozy haze of the eponymous Middle-Eastern resin I can detect shades of orange blossom, orange confit cake, balsamic vanilla and even Eastern Bread, the confit qualities and the mahlep spice being facets of the resin itself. And yet it also has a certain freshness about it: Not exactly the lemon-facets of frankincence which peter out to smokiness cooling the air as they leave, but nonetheless it does not smell opressing at all. Its voluptuous unfolding on air, linen, skin or clothes is like an arc of graceful awakening: you feel it making your nostrils quiver and then settle into a prolonged inhalation and another prolonged exhalation of utter pleasure. The dark, powdery backdrop of Opopanax is reminiscent of how vintage Shalimar used to dry down, the powder never too sweet, the leathery quinolines never too harsh, all coppery clouds setting on some eastern temple scenery when nary the tremble of a leaf would cut the awed silence of the moment.

Among room fragrances which can be borrowed for fine fragrance needs (the opposite is also valid practice, as some in the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria line have proved in my experience), Diptyque's Opopanax is truly stellar, achingly gorgeous, right up there with the very best and lovers of Misuki, Or des Indes, Bal a Versailles and indeed Shalimar are urged to check it out.

Diptyque Opopanax comes in a room spray of 200ml and a 6.5oz candle. Obviously the room spray is easier to manipulate towards perfuming what strikes your fancy, but the candle is also terrific.
Available on the Diptyque site.(and on their UK page)


photo of candles in Orthodox church via wooz.gr

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Meanwhile

I will be travelling to the blessed natural wonders bestowed for our pleasure for a few days. However, I have composed several scheduled posts which will appear regularly on these pages for your enjoyment, taking upon references of the scents & flavours of the Holy Week in Greece and beyond. And assuming Net connection, I might pop in to check things once in a while.
In the meantime, you can also revisit the ~ever popular, since 2007 when it was first written~ Incense Series; tracing each day with designated fragrances to fit the mood and traditions, posts appearing in reverse chronological order on the link.

Blood Concept Fragrances: For the Vampire in you

I never knew that Dracula was so eloquent in his particular obsession, but apparently he must be: "The human body is totally pervaded by a liquid vital rush that brings us what we are most fond of: Life. Filled with legends and meanings‚ blood is soaked with mystery, fascination and respect: it’s the most tested and studied part of the human body. Hiding the multitude of secrets that reveals our inner and unique way of being. BLOOD Concept is a ceremony devoted to the pulse of life and its visceral boost. It is actually the river of life." Makes your blood curdle, doesn't it; but no, the author isn't Prince Vlad Tepes himself or any of the vampires in the Twilight sage by Stephanie Meyers. It's the ad copy of a new Italian niche fragrance line. Figures.

The concept for Blood fragrances belongs to Giovanni Castelli, a fashion designer and the co-founder of the brand Acqua di Stresa, and Antonio Zuddas, an artist who works in advertising as a copywriter and photographer. They developed the fragrances in collaboration with Apf France in Grasse and the graphics were done by Fabrizio Piras and Giuseppe Porcelli. The concept follows the historical progression of blood type groups through evolution, from the oldest, O, to the newest AB. The scents were officially introduced to the public in Excence exhibition in Milan on March 31st.

Blood Concept fragrances are a brilliant exercise in marketese, as they take as a springboard one of the most influential concepts: that fragrance should suit the wearer. In a much more primeval way this time, not focusing on skin type, hair colour or preferences and associations, but deep within one's blood. Within one's blood group, more like it, as it would be impossible to account for every nuance, like any good microbiologist worth his/her salt would know.


The sample pack came in a scratch & sniff little pocketbook, full of cards with each blood type on the front, scratching surface which releases microcapsules of scent when you drag your nail fingers on it, and the fragrance notes and type of scent (along with a sex demarcation which is unisex, i.e. shared between the sexes) on the back of the cards. The pack reads Compatibility Test. I mean, geez, you have to give it to them! It's as if the scents fuse into your organism and perform some microcosmos ritual. They're careful to say nevertheless that you can test them all and choose whatever speaks to you, regardless of your actual blood type. Phew...I was worried a bit there for a moment!

Perfume O is a unisex leather fragrance, composed of thyme, raspberry, cyperus esculentus, rose hips, leather, birch, cedar wood, and metallic notes.

Perfume A is a unisex aromatic fragrance which includes notes of green garden, tomato leaves, basil, star anise and metallic notes.

Perfume B is a unisex woody spicy composition with red apple and black cherry in the top, artemisia, pepper, pomegranate and black tea in the heart; patchouli, tick wood and metallic notes in the base.

Perfume AB is a unisex mineral composition with aldehydes, aluminium and slate in the top, pebble and aqua in the heart, cedar wood and metallic notes in the base.


The mention of metallic notes isn't that creepy actually (i.e.as in blood, metallic due to iron content). Think of it more in the lines of popular aromachemicals du jour like Ambrox and Iso E Super, which incidentally give a uniform woody aspect as well (to almost each and every one of them, to my nose).
I'm not sure if the method of scratch & sniff cards gives an accurate enough imprint of the fragrances; I'm hypothesizing that it's a bit like judging based on scent strips on magazines. They give you a general idea, but you really have to test the juice on skin to make a definite decision. Based on those, nevertheless, I get the feeling that these are fragrances composed around the same more or less principles with minor nuances: they're niche scents, resolutely unisex in their carriage, aimed at people inquisitive to smell something not immediately identifiable (the given notes of even familiar ingredients such as vanilla, apple or basil don't proclaim their presence as such) and they're not aimed to cajole or seduce under any circumstances.

If pressed I'd say that Perfume B is the one I leaned to, it feels less clinical thanks to its spicy bouquet; a bit as if Jean Claude Ellena was on acid, composing at some remote mountain top cabin made of teak wood. Perfume A is also rather interesting, full as it is of the very green smell of tomato stems, a very agreeable aroma. A bit of an historical paradox though, considering solanum lycopersicum's trajectory in time. The rest didn't grab me; maybe I had high expectations from Perfume O as it poses as a leather. It's rather a woody suede and I think we've seen our share of those. Perfume AB seems to contain that weird molecule that is also present in Etat Libre d'Orange Secretions Magnifiques, and resembles most closely what Chandler Burr had referred to as "sink cleanser spilled on an aluminum countertop" (speaking of dihydromyrcenol); think crazied Godzilla lime froth and you're there.

All Blood Concept fragrances are available in dropper bottles of 40 ml; a little bit medicinal and at the same time decadently 19th century vampiric as well.

Photo of Udo Kier in The Blood of Dracula (1974). All other pics by Elena Vosnaki.

Disclosure: I was sent the sample pack by the manufacturer.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Sonoma Scent Studio To Dream: fragrance review

To Dream, indie perfumer Laurie Erikson's (of Sonoma Scent Studio) latest release clearly poses as a violet fragrance and yet it is so much more that it can stand for many things: a woody floral for those who don't want too much of either declination; a balanced composition that explores minimal powdery elements alongside a soft, fuzzy smoothness and sweetened woods over the familiar ambience of viola odorata; a non makeup scent for men who want to venture into the realm. To Dream is quite enchanting, inducing daydreaming indeed, and at the same time supremely easy to pull of for both sexes, projecting on a pleasant hum at all times, no sharp points, but rather colourful accents, like an oil painting by a late 19th century artist.



To Dream features soft violet and rose with a base of heliotrope, tonka, amber, vanilla, frankincense essential oil (very lightly done), oakwood absolute, orris, cedar, sandalwood, and hints of cocoa, suede and moss. Even though Laurie had been working on violets before for her Lieu de Rêves (Place of Dreams), reviewed on these pages, the two compositions, sharing the violet-rose-heliotrope heart, soon depart. Lieu de Rêves has a childlike innocence and the hazy contours of flou stills of Louis Malle's Pretty Baby; a nascent sensuality which beckons you closer Bambi-eyed. To Dream is a bit more sophisticated and more unisex, with woodier aspects from French oakwood absolute which comes from wine barrels made of Quercus robur wood; Quercus is the Latin name for oak, i.e. these are oaky barrels, the kind that hold aging-simpatico dry, red wine).

Smelling the raw essence of oakwood absolute, mossy and fruity at the same time, brought to my mind all the early memories I had when as a kid we went to grape distilleries & wineries (a Greek pastime during family holidays driving through the lush countryside) and I buried my nose inside the by -then empty- oaky barrels before being shown the fungus that is added to begin the fermentation process. The tannic facets of the wine were mingling with the slightly musty, pungent aroma of the wood itself. In To Dream this is a definite note and oenophiles will be delighted to discover it within a fragrance fit to wear. This woody note naturally lends itself to pairings with moss and the soft notes like the rose and strawberry bouquet of a young red wine. But that is not all: The powderiness and slight almondy character of To Dream enrobes this wood note and the florals with plush, a fine muskiness surfacing to blend all into a comforting, snuggly haze you won't want to get away from.

Notes for Sonoma Scent Studio To Dream:
Violet, rose, heliotrope, cedar, amber, frankincense, oakwood absolute, vetiver, tonka, orris, vanilla, musk, sandalwood, oakmoss, subtle suede, cocoa, and aldehydes.

To Dream is available as parfum extrait spray 34ml for 80$ on the Sonoma Scent Studio site and IndieScents.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Sonoma Scent Studio fragrances, Violets in perfumery

Painting Daydreaming by Eugene de Blaas (1843-1931)

Disclosure: I was sent a sample vial directly from the perfumer
.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Tilar Mazzeo "The Secret of Chanel No.5": Fragrance Book Review

Partly a biography of Gabrielle Chanel (nicknamed Coco) and partly a biography of the famous perfume she co-authored, Chanel No. 5, Tilar Mazeo's book is one I knew about right when it was being authored, because I had been approached to assist with a couple of fragrance history questions. That might be why I was so inexplicably late in actually reviewing it, hesitant to deconstuct that beautiful narrative into info and personal opinions on style. Yet, because it is a book that is a real page-turner and which deserves a place in the library of perfume enthusiasts, I find myself thinking about it very often since its release and needing to relay my thoughts in black & white; much like the aesthetics of this iconic bottle dictate.

Cultural historian Tilar Mazzeo, after her best-selling The Widow Cliquot, has written a new book about Coco Chanel's legendary scent, The Secret of Chanel No. 5: The Intimate History of the World's Most Famous Perfume. In it, she skillfully interweaves facts about Chanel's life based on accredited biographers, such as Edmonde Charles Roux's biography Chanel and Her World, and musings recorded by memoir note-keeper perfumer Constantine Wériguine who kept a record of Ernest Beaux's souvenirs (Beaux being No.5' s illustrious perfumer). The inextricable struggle for survival of Coco, who went from orphanage in Aubazine to the cabaret and then on to the fashion atelier, aided by powerful men (Arthur "Boy" Capel, prince Dimitri and von Dincknlage among others) who loved her and aided her, and of her most famous creation, Chanel No.5 is fascinating to unravel.
I can guarantee you that you will be reaching for your bottle of Chanel No.5 every few chapters, in a desire to refresh your memory of what makes this fragrance truly an icon. If you're truly obsessive like myself, you will be putting all your vintages and concentrations imaginable from Eau de Cologne to Eau de Toilette, via Eau de Parfum, all the way to Extrait de Parfum in various dates on the desk and inhaling furtively to catch the secret of a commercial mega-success as recognisable today as Coca-Cola and Nike.

Among the merits of Tilar Mazzeo's book is its fast-paced rhythm which makes it a real page-turner; its wealth of documentation, amply showcased in the Notes section, where yours truly appears twice, no less; in the careful style of language that is engaging and joyful to read; and in the small astonishing facts that appear throughout. Several facts will make perfume enthustiasts perk up their ears and take note, like the notion that Beaux didn't create the first draft for No.5 on command of his patron, nor did he just employ his former recipe for Rallet No.1 which was a Russian Court favourite, before the Bolshevik Revolution which cost Ernest Beaux his stay in the mother land. Beaux was actually questioning prisoners in a location in the remote Archangel port of northest Russia when he noticed the scent of icebergs, wishing to capture this elusive, fleeting odour into a fragrance that could be worn on skin. It will be also interesting to see how Chanel herself was No.5's worst enemy, as she had signed away most of the rights to her fragrance early on to the Wertheimer brothers, and how she spent over 50 years fighting to get it back or destroy it. Indeed if one thing becomes apparent to the knowledgable reader who knew some of these secrets is how the meticulous care and consistent savvy business decisions of the Wertheimers, like smuggling jasmine concrete from Grasse fields to New Jersey laboratories during Nazi-occupied France in WWII, and putting the perfume for sale in Army sale points, have resulted in making Chanel No.5 the legend that it is to this day: the world's best known perfume!

If there is a "flaw" in The Secret of No.5 it is that the author intent on merging the designer with her famous masterpiece narrates the story as if every past deed in Coco's life bears a significance in the creation of the perfume by perfumer Ernest Beaux. It did not, as Beaux was certainly busy composing several first and second and upteenth drafts of his sperm idea years before he met Coco Chanel. But in retrospect everything falls into place and it is this which probably make the author choose this type of narrative style. The composition resonated with Chanel because it embodied everything she and her past stood for: a true classic yet perenially modern; the smell of "Boy" Capel who stood for cleanliness and safety, of fresh laundry & scrubbed skin reminiscent of the Cistercian orpahanage in Aubazine and the fervor of the demi-mondaines, young cabaret performers & societal fringe-living, less-respected women who wore heavy, sweet jasmine and musk scents; a bridge between the risqué and the lady-like, all in an emballage that spoke of Spartan deco restraint and mucho class. So much class and desirability in fact, that GIs were standing in line to get the goods back home during WWII and even Marilyn Monroe publicly proclaimed she loved it without being paid one dime to say she did.
In that regard it reminds me a bit of the cultural approach led by Jennifer Craik in The Face of Fashion: Cultural Studies in Fashion, another recommended read.

Bottom line: The Secret of Chanel No.5, despite its relative lack of pictures (there are a handful but not many), is a perfume book that will not tire or confuse less seasoned/less knowledgable perfume enthusiasts and, at the same time, it will not disappoint those who are more immersed in the aficion. Can I say it is recommended without appearing prejudiced?

The Secret of Chanel No. 5: The Intimate History of the World's Most Famous Perfume
By Tilar Mazzeo
Hardcover, 304 pages
Harper
List Price: $25.99

Disclosure: I bought the book with my own money, even though I was offered an advanced copy at the time of writing.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Season Specific Fragrance Wardrobe & "Rotate Your Scent so You Don't Stop Smelling it": Fiction or Fact?

Surely all of you have heard/read these lines time and again: "You must change your fragrances from season to season to get a better effect". And: "You want to avoid wearing the same fragrance all the time, because after awhile you literally won't be able to smell it - that's just the way the sense of smell works. If you have several fragrances, you can alternate between them and avoid "getting used to" the way they smell. Add fragrances to your collection periodically so you have a nice selection that you can choose from". Great! It's not enough to just find something that suits you; perfume selling stuff, fragrance companies and glossies have persuaded you that it's a most difficult task and you need expert advice ~their advice~ to get the ball rolling. "Feel fresh and relaxed with moisturising body soap and men's perfume",  magazines say."You need to rotate your scents".

Now you need to find several of those, to comply with changes in season, weather conditions, occasions, mood, hormone imbalances and match it to your nail polish shade and your earrings. I'm of course kidding. All this received advice, which has been reiterated for decades to the point we've all believed it, is pure and utter bullshit; a myth, if you will. And I will prove to you why.

The main argument in favour of changing your perfumes from day to day is so your nose doesn't become too accustomed to it and you risk not smelling it on yourself any more". True, it's a scientific proven fact that our nose becomes acclimatised to existing odours after a few minutes so that it's ready to pick up alerting odours. It's the hunter-gatherer's gene: big predator is approaching; that bog is poisoned, better not drink water off it; something is badly burning, could it be the thatched roof on my hut? That said, the artificial corrolation of that fact with perfume use bears little logic. Fragrance wearing is not an opaque layer of odour that stays the same throughout the day, thus inflicting odour perception blockage like it would be if you were sitting in a chemical factory working every day to the same effluvium. Apart from the natural evaporation that would naturally occur, fragrances are constructed in a purposeful way so that different elements come to the fore with warmth, friction or simply rate of evaporation of the molecules in question. Usually we refer to this as the classic "fragrance pyramid" of top notes, middle notes and base notes. Although not all fragrances are built that way (indeed most are not nowadays), there is still a structure even in linear scents that creates a less or more intense scent that you catch whiffs of throughout the day. Think about it: How many times have you surprised yourself by smelling your fragrance amidst a daily chore and thinking "this smells good"? Clearly, your nose blunts a bit after the initial swoosh, intense enough hence the occasional sneeze when first putting it on, but the peaks of scent are there to remind you of its presence: now you catch it, now you don't; but you're not totally oblivious unless you're performing brain surgery, in which case what the hell are you distracting yourself with sensory stimuli for?


I have tried the practice of wearing the same scent for weeks on end myself as an experiment to see whether I would stop smelling it on myself several times (usually involving either Opium, Bandit, or Diorling) and the amount used and enjoyment derived never fluctuated; instead the continuous use allowed me intimate knowledge of the fragrance in question, something which could not be done if I was being fickle continuously. Not all days were the same while going the course, but at the end of each session I was not more oblivious to my scent than when I started. Perhaps getting people to change fragrance all the time avoids exactly this pitfall: they might realise just what utter dreck some of the products on the market are and never return to buy them! But wait, the fragrance industry has cornered that as well: "By the time you get bored with this one, we will have a new collection in the store", a line which makeup sale assistants have been using for ages. It seems like perfumes have become seasonal makeup items as well. Witness the hundreds of flanker fragrances (scents of the same brand coat-tailing on a bestseller's success with minimal change in name and packaging). And the tsunami of fragrance launches in the last 10 years: In the worlds of Oscar Wilde "Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."

But even if that weren't enough, maketing lore has cleverly played upon our most subconsious fears pertaining to smell. The implied innuendo of "after awhile you literally won't be able to smell it" is "think how horrible that will be on those around you!" Notice how sly they are into leaving it be hinted, without actually blurting it out: Because if you won't be able to smell it, why buy their product again anyway? They could have said, "you're not going to enjoy the scent as much after you put it on day in day out", but they don't, they say "you won't be able to smell it on yourself". Smell, not enjoy. As in "you smell!", aka a negative connotation. Because the perception of our human smell is such an intimate, personal thing, there is the fear that the way we project our homo sapiens projectiles might be repulsive to those around us. It just wouln't be the same with a visual example and they know it. Visual clues are unquestionable unless you're blind: either something is blue or it's not. But what is "good" and what is "bad" in olfactory terms? The confines are broader. And thus the perfume sale is sealed!

One of the easiest ways of cementing the need for a fragrance wardrobe is the concept of "a seasonal fragrance wardrobe". This is mainly because if you notice the bulk of the sales of perfume products happens in the temperate zone and not some sub-Saharan savvanah. The change in seasons in such places is dramatic enough that this seems like it makes sense. And yet we know that sometimes ambers bloom in the summer and florals can be icy and full of luster in the dead of winter. "Heat enhances the perception of fragrance," says Karyn Khoury, senior vice president for fragrance development for Estée Lauder Cos., who wears fragrance every day. "It warms up the skin and intensifies the diffusion of fragrance so you smell it more." (as reported by Beatrice de Gea in The Wall Street Journal) "When spring arrives, women may want to tone down perfumes so they aren't overwhelming. Ms. Khoury often leaves behind the deeper, richer scents of the winter months, such as patchouli and cedar wood, and instead seeks out fragrances with lighter touches—'citrus notes like mandarin, lemon and grapefruit, dewy green notes, things that smell like leaves or fresh-cut grass, lighter tropical florals like gardenia petals' she says." Khoury is responsible for mega sales of fragrance for decades, so she is a decathlon champion talking about running; you know there's a reason.

Historically speaking, the idea of changing your fragrance all the time, the concept of a fragrance wardrobe, didn't appear but very recently, in the middle of the 20th century actually. Perfume lost its prophylactic function in Western society when Pasteur made his discoveries, while it had almost entirely lost its sacred function way before that, so it became a middle-ground between craft, art and product. In Tilar Mazzeo's book The Secret of Chanel No.5, the cultural researcher notes that it was in the 1950s that consumer goods advertising firms started applying the expertise of psychologists, who realised that "any product [...]must appeal to our feelings". The idea that what mattered to consumers were images, especially images of self, was exploited to good effect: Perfume by its very nature explores an idea of self and to instigate that idea into its marketing is genius because it's something that can be used both for the championing of a signature scent ("this is me at its purest form") and for the necessity of a fragrance wardrobe ("these are my different facets, I'm not that simple")! Really brilliant, isn't it? It can also consolidate brand loyalty. Don't believe me or think it's counterintuitive? Just Google Images for "fragrance wardrobe". Oodles of pics of Chanel coffrets with a predetermined selection of mini parfums of their portfolio comes up. Several other houses issue their own "collection" so as to instill a sense of finding the scents you need for different moods and needs within the same brand.

Men who are ~bless their hearts~ such a saner creature in what concerns shopping practices ~apart from cars and electronics of course, but that's another fodder for another day~ consider the concept of having to change your fragrance all the time an exercise in consumerism and a sure indication that women are victims of wallet manipulation. The Western world female of 20-40 years of age is the most ferocious consumer of them all and thus the prime target of advertisers. As displayed on Beaut.ie blog, men just don't "get it". But the women commenting provide all manner of justification! One reason might be that it's so totally fun to play with several fragrances, an epiphany that came to me when I had abandonded my idea that I should only have about twenty full bottles in rotation in case they spoil; why not bring them all out? A signature scent might be a most romantic, evocative idea, but in the end playing with a variety of fragrances allows a certain -otherwise denied- playfulness to surface, a playfulness that is sometimes a springboard of sanity in this tough world we're living in. Other people just have the collector gene in them. I know I'm one. It doesn't matter if it's paper-clips, stationery or perfume bottles of rare compositions, it brings on the completist in you.

But that is one thing and being told that we NEED to do it, otherwise the repurcussions will be unpleasant, are two very different things! I hereby proclaim my right to change my fragrance ~when and how and if I want to~ because it's fun and exciting to me and not because they tell me I have to. What about you?

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: On the flip side of the coin; the indefinable allure of a signature scent

Photo of Faye Dunaway from the set of Bonnie & Clyde. Perfume collection pic via fracasnoir.com. Nude in black & white photo by Willy Ronis.

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