Jo Malone Tea Collection: fragrance reviews

Henry James wrote "There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as an afternoon tea." There are indeed few indulgences more easily satisfying than warming my hands on a hot gàiwǎnof aromatic tea on a cold and gloomy day; letting the steam of clove-laced tea rise and dissipate in front of my eyes at a tea salon waiting for friends to arrive for an afternoon snack (my favourite is in the elegantly historic Grande Bretagne hotel, Athens); or sipping jasmine tea with mint on my verandah in the hours when the sun is setting into the sea in summer, an orange disk sizzling -as I imagine- as it meets the blue waters.

The new Tea Collection by Jo Malone promised to ignite at least some of those memories at the spritz of an elegant sparse bottle: In part it delivers, while in other parts there are some elements left to be desired, but this portfolio composed by perfumer Christine Nagel. "The ceremony of tea is a timeless, simple and authentic practice, but in relation to fragrance, surprising and original” says Nagel.


The overall character of the Limited edition Tea Collection is one of light, diffusive fragrances which rely on a somewhat simplistic composition, meant to be used for layering or to satisfy a specific craving for ambient music to one's nose; typically Jo Malone concept. In short, if you prefer the more baroque formula of Five o' clock au Gingembre by Lutens or L'Artisan's Tea for Two with its smoky, tarry undercurrent, these tea scents by Jo Malone might prove to be too transparent, lacking the robust character you seek. But if you want refreshing and -sometimes- cuddly spritzes to lift your spirits on a day that just doesn't go the way you wanted it to go, they're easy and mood-altering scents that might fit the bill.

The Jo Malone Tea Collection includes 5 fragrances:
Assam & Grapefruit,
Earl Grey & Cucumber,
Sweet Milk,
Sweet Lemon,
Fresh Mint Leaf

To beging from the bottom up, Sweet Lemon as well as Fresh Mint Leaf are extra refreshing formulae, meant to be savoured best on a hot summer day, respectively emphasizing the properties of sweet-sour contrasts in the rind of lemon and the fuzziness of peaches; and the piquant, slightly spicy (peppery basil) note that is as cool as a Wringley mint gum respectively. I would suspect that paired with the bright and lively Roses in the Jo Malone line that latter Fresh Mint Leaf would make a killer masculine combination or one which more adventurous females might investigate for warm weather wearing.

Assam & Grapefuit is a pleasurable twist on the tarry aroma of black tea under the naturally sulfurous qualities of grapefruit: If cult classic Pamplelune has always impressed you with its realistic grapefruit aroma, but you were wary of the sweaty aspects it might project, Assam & Grapefruit provides a bit of that sting without the humiliation of not knowing if you're offensive to others. The pairing of malty-smelling tea with citric notes is a given, the fruit making the aromatic notes rise to the surface. Which is why Earl Grey tea is such a success too (to the point that it's a pop reference in Star Trek): the bergamot oils used to flavour it bring an aesthetic rounding of its notes into a tune as melodic as one coming from an harp! In Jo Malone's Earl Grey & Cucumber however the balance of a classic blend is tilted and the resulting effect is quite intriguing: The flavour of a good bergamot-laced Earl Grey is there but the freshness here comes not by citrus as would have been expected, but via aquatic notes, masquerading as "cucumber" (and I suspect violet leaves too, as in Fresh's Baies & Cucumber). The reference of course is the famous cucumber sandwiches which are served by the British accompanying a hot tea cup. It's an excellent example of how context makes all the difference, as the bergamot note takes on an almost sensual role amidst the watery freshness of the fragrance formula.
Warm Milk on the other hand, although predictable (it's exactly what its name suggests, a soft-core sort of tea with condensed milk to take to bed and cuddle up) is pleasurable, definitely a skin scent and very long lasting. It's probably what most lovers of light gourmands or light woodies would gravitate to!

Perhaps what's missing from such a quintessentially British brand (though bought out by Lauder in recent years) is a "London Fog" fragrance: bergamot laced tea notes alongside warm milkiness and a hint of vanilla syrup. The building blocks are already in the lab, all that's left is for them to cut the deck once more!

Notes for Jo Malone Assam & Grapefruit:
Top notes: grapefruit, violet, rhubarb
Heart: Assam tea, rose, cardamom
Base: patchouli, musk, almond
Notes for Jo Malone Earl Grey & Cucumber:
Top notes: bergamot, apple, jasmine, water notes
Heart: angelica, cucumber, davana
Base: beeswax, vanilla, cedar and musk
Notes for Jo Malone Sweet Lemon:
Top notes: lemon, bergamot, rhubarb
Heart: pineapple, freesia, peach
Base: cypress, musk, cedar

Notes for Jo Malone Fresh Mint Leaf:
Top notes: basil, mint, bergamot
Heart: water jasmine, rhubarb
Base: mate, musk, cedar
Notes for Jo Malone Warm Milk:
Top notes: star anise, heliotrope, bergamot
Heart: milk, caramel
Base: vanilla, almond, musk

Available at Jo Malone counters in 30ml/1oz bottles, extremely limited edition (grab them while they're hot!), from March 2011.

top pic via le petit ogre

Erik Kormann Eau de Froehliche: fragrance review

It was just the other day when we were discussing the merits of a vanilla laced with other ingredients to cut down on the sweetness, the stickiness and all around juvenile factor. Today I'm happy to review a scent that pairs incense with vanilla and balsams, materials which bring out a wonderful oriental "gourmand" character that is mouthwatering, yet not cloying at all: Eau de Fröhliche by Erik Kormann of 1000 & 1 Siefe.

If you haven't heard of the artisan behind it, we need to reproach you. We had covered his delightful citrusy August cologne some seasons back. His newest niche creation is an incense water inspired by the old German carol O Du Fröhliche, translating as "Oh how Joyfully"! You might be thinking by now how can an incense be joyful and not mysterious or moody (one look at the vial is enough to answer that) and how can an oriental featuring vanilla no less be fit for the transitioning of the seasons we're experiencing. And yet! Fear not: Like Erik's previous cologne, this Eau de Parfum is long lasting but behaves extremely well.

The fragrance takes on a very individual take on incense (forget the CDG Incense Series and other scents featured in our Incense Series here) , as it invests it with materials which are pliable, soft, enveloping, lending it their inherent joy and warmth like hot breath on a cool, misty window pane:
Tolu balsam, tonka beans full of coumarin and vanilla absolute create a creamy aspect, while the cocoa nuance of iris finds its perfect partner in crime in chocolate-faceted natural patchouli with its inviting, sweet and alluring smell. Other notes include rosewood and cardamom as accent pieces. The incense thus smiles like the brass of an orchestra playing classically-rounded tunes in a wood-panelled auditorium where nothing could ever go wrong.

If winter is still bothering you and you need a little comfort, clothed in a cuddly, embracing composition, Eau de Fröhliche can't but address that need. Available in Eau de Parfum from Erik's 1000&1 Seife or via mail.

For those reading German, take a look at Erik's blog post about his options.
You can contact Erik for availability/details at his E-Mail: kontakt@aromatisches-blog.de



In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample by the perfumer himself. Pics of vial and sketch via http://perfume.twoday.net/ and aromatiches.blog.de

Kirsten Dunst poses for Bvlgari, all feline-like and...in the buff

The newest Bulgari advertisements for Mon Jasmin Noir, a new flanker to the established Jasmin Noir feminine fragrance (which we have reviewed previously) feature Kristen Dunst. She's appearing uncharacteristically glamorised and with nothing more than a sheer scarf hiding her more private parts. Right beside...a lion! Bulgari is obviously taking a page from 50s Hollywood stars who used to parade with felines right and left as an extention of their "wild" nature. Let us remind you that Julianne Moore had also posed with lion cubs for the Bulgari campaign, just last autumn. There's definitely a theme...But whereas Julianne is credible (and looks sexy), this one seems stretched to its limits.
So, what do you think about Dunst's new ad? Good, bad or just plain laughable?



"Modernity and sensuality of this fragrance is achieved by blending notes of lily of the valley, Sambac jasmine, musky nougatine and vibrant woods". The perfumer of Bvlgari Mon Jasmin Noir is Olivier Polge. Out soon!

top pic via racked.com, bottom via farispashion blog

Puredistance Parfum Luxury Set Giveaway

It's cloudy and grumpy today and I want to brighten your day and mine. So off to a lucky reader goes this deluxe pure parfum set by Puredistance, a niche brand located in the Netherlands.

It includes Puredistance I, M and the latest Antonia in a leather-bound case with individual fabric-covered cases which snap shut for each scent. Can I say that they smell absolutely breath-taking and gorgeously luxurious? Antonia is delicious and perfect for the warmer months ahead and now you can sample them all at leisure.

Tell us in the comments what brightens your day and I'll pick a lucky winner. Draw is open till Sunday midnight.
Check out the Puredistance site on www.puredistance.com.

Oh and in case I forget, the winner for the Lutens sample is Vintage Lady. Congrats!

Perfumery Material: Hedione (Luminous/Transparent Jasmine)

 Smelling hedione, I'm struck by its beautiful, limpid and luminous character which resembles the beautiful citrusy floral note of a magnolia blossom blossoming under sunny skies.
Hedione or methyl dihydrojasmonate is an aromachemical (patented as Hedione by aroma-producing company Firmenich) that is often used in composition in substitution for jasmine absolute, but also for the sake of its own fresh-citrusy and green tonality.

Hedione lacks the clotted cream density of natural jasmine, recalling much more the living vine in the warmth of summer mornings and for that reason it is considered a beautiful material that offers quite a bit in the production of fine perfumes.

Perfumer Lyn Harris, nose of the brand Miller Harris and also the independent nose behind many well-known creations not credited to her name, calls it “transparent jasmine” and attributes to it the capacity to give fizz to citrus notes much “like champagne”. (See? it’s not only aldehydes which do that!)

According to Christian Chapuis of Firmenich SA, Edouard Demole discovered methyl jasmonate in 1957, accomplished a synthesis of Hedione (from the Greek word ηδονή/hedone, meaning agreeable and pleasant) in 1958, synthesized methyl jasmonate in 1959, placed both materials under intellectual protection in 1960, and published these discoveries in 1962. "This simple timeline belies a more complex history of chemistry and creation".
First used in the classic men’s cologne Eau Sauvage, composed by Edmond Roudnitska in 1966, hedione had been isolated from jasmine absolute and went on to revolutionize men’s scents with the inclusion of a green floral note. Eau Sauvage was so successful that many women went on to adopt it as their own personal fragrance leading the house of Dior to the subsequent introduction of Diorella in 1972, composed by the same legendary nose, blending the green floral with hints of peach, honeysuckle, rose and cyclamen in addition to the herbal citrusy notes of the masculine counterpart, all anchored by a base of cool vetiver, patchouli and oakmoss, lending a mysterious, aloof and twilit air to women who went for it.

Ten years after its introduction to perfumery, in 1976, it was the turn of Jean Claude Ellena to coax hedione in a composition that exploited its fresh and lively character to great aplomb in the production of First by jewelry house Van Cleef & Arpels (the name derived from the fact that it was their first fragrant offering, but also the first scent to come out of a jeweler too ~subsequently many followed in its tracks with notable success). In it, Ellena used 10 times the concentration of hedione used in Eau Sauvage, married to natural jasmine as well as rose de mai (rosa centifollia, which is also a "crystalline" variety), narcissus, orris, ylang ylang and a hint of carnation with the flying trapeze of aldehydes on top and the plush of vetiver, amber and vanilla at the bottom which accounted for a luminous and luxurious floral.

Hedione also makes a memorable appearance in many other perfumes, such as the classic Chamade by Guerlain (introduced in 1969), Chanel no.19 (1970) and Must by Cartier (1981) and in many of the modern airy fragrances such as CKone, Blush by Marc Jacobs, the shared scent Paco by Paco Rabanne or ~surprisingly~ in the bombastic Angel by Thierry Mugler, in which it is used as a fresh top note along with helional! Perhaps if you want to feel it used in spades smell L'Eau d'Issey by Issey Miyake: the aquatic/ozonic notes cannot hide its radiance.
Its uses are legion, especially since it acts as a supreme smoothener of the rest of the ingredients. In Terre d'Hermes, perfumer Jean Claude Ellena uses lots of it to bring out the softer side of hesperidic bergamot and to fan out the woodier aspects.

High-cis Hedione is an isomer which gives a jasmine tea profile (not surprisingly, as the component naturally occurs in tea), more diffusive and less floral and thus useful in masculine blends, but it costs more than regular hedione and poses problems of stability in acidic environments. Some of the Bulgari "tea" scents, such as Bulgari Eau au Thé Rouge and Bulgari Eau au Thé Blanc are good reference points if you want to smell this in action.
Despite hedione's unlikeness to natural jasmine absolute and essential oil (which are much lusher, narcotic and indolic), perfumers have used it to supreme results in the history of fine fragrance of the last 40 years, occassionaly using it up to 35% concentrations, although it's more usual to be featured in ratios of 2-15%.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfumery Materials, The Jasmine Series

pic of jasmine via Gracemagazine. Bottle of First via zensoaps.com

Atelier Cologne Vanille Insensee: fragrance review & draw

“He wove through the crowd when suddenly his heart quickened. That scent. It was hers. He had worn it first until she stole it for herself. Now, there she was before him and the magic of years past came flooding back in a moment.”

These little snippets like stories out of a collection of romantic prose accompany the launch of Atelier Cologne niche scents and account for much of the brand's piquancy. Vanilla with its aprodisiac reputation seemed like the prime suspect into infusing a memorable, erotic perfume. And so Vanille Insensee arrived onto my desk. A vanilla...oh well, I thought at first!


Do you, like me, think vanilla fragrances are often juvenille and pedestrian, haunted by drugstore images of tooth-aching stuff that recalls more a bakery's back room than proper perfume? Or are you a vanilla aficionado always in the search out for the one perfect oriental which captures that elusive middle-ground between comforting and silky polish? A slew of niche brands are catering to your needs, it seems.

The comparison of Atelier Cologne's newest take on vanilla, Vanille Insensée, with others in the niche circuit, recalls both Diptyque Eau Duelle and Le Labo Vanille 44, but the effect is different enough to warrant its own exploration. For vanilla lovers (and they're legion) every little twist has the potential to make them want to sample and exhaust their repertoire. While Eau Duelle is more "clean musk" than promised woods and Vanille 44 is richer, like a sophisticated crème brûlée rather than dipping your nose into cake batter made with vanillin, Vanille Insensée brings on the freshness of vanilla to the fore. You heard that right: it's a crazy, fresh vanilla!

Atelier Cologne, founded last year by Sylvie Ganter (formerly of Hermès and FRESH fame) and Christophe Cervasel (founder of Selective Beauty, responsible for creating scents for John Galliano, Zac Posen, and Agent Provocateur to name but a few), they debuted "Petites" (30mls), soaps and candles last autumn and for spring 2011 they launched Vanille Insensée. Careful: That's not Incensée and it has nothing to do with incense! In French Vanille Insensée literally means vanilla out of its senses, vanilla in the most unexpected, profound, insane way!


Vanille Insensée was composed by perfumer Ralf Schwieger and in it the vanilla ~although front and central~ is given a diaphanous (yet lasting) treatment which seems lighter than what one would expect from the creator of waxy and intense Lipstick Rose (for F.Malle). Although advertised as "woody", I don't find Atelier's Vanille especially so. The citrusy touches on top (lime and cedrat, which is French for citron; but also spicy-orangey coriander) are classic allies in most orientals and here they lift the vanilla into the clouds, while clean notes of jasmine, white musk and mossy underpinnings (vetiver and oaky tannin smells) conspire to make the pod fluffy and "fresh" ~mind you, fresh and fluffy the way a meringue is just out of the oven, we're still on culinary grounds here. But away from choux à la crème land all the same...

If you want your vanilla intense, darkish and calorific, like Indult Tihota or Spirituelle Double Vanille (Guerlain) or rather smoky with layers of tobacco or cotton-candy & ice-cream cone, like, respectively, Havana Vanille and the discontoninued Vanilia by L'Artisan, then the Atelier Cologne version won't please. The same could be said if you're spoiled by the tropics treatment by the Comptoir Sud Pacifique line. If on the other hand you have always envisioned a vanilla to bring forth into spring and summer, with just the right amount of a sweet tooth that doesn't ruin the waistline, I think this one might do the trick.

A sample will be given to a lucky reader: What's your take on vanilla and vanilla fragrances? Say in the comments and I will pick a lucky winner. Draw is open till Friday midnight.

Notes for Vanille Insensée: lime, cedrat, coriander, jasmine, oak, vetiver, Madagascar vanilla, oakmoss and amber.

Atelier Cologne Vanille Insensée is vailable in 30 ($60) or 200 ml ($170) Cologne Absolue (15% concentration), carried by Bergdorf Goodman, Neiman Marcus and Steven Alan as well as the newly curated e-commerce website www.ateliercologne.com


In the interests of disclosure I was able to sample the fragrance assisted by the company who handles the brand.
Photo of vanilla sky via nettevivante

Perfumery Material: Coumarin, Tonka Bean & the Fougere accord

Open any perfume guide with fragrance "notes" or any online discussion or blog post on perfume description and you're bound to stumble on coumarin; one of the most common materials in many fine fragrances but also several body products, cosmetics and functional products. Its rich history goes back to the beginnings of modern perfumery in the late 19th century, bringing us right at the moment of the nascent concept of perfumery as a mix of organic chemistry and nature's exploitation. Coumarin as such is a synthesized material in most perfumes, but it's also found in abundance in natural products, such as tonka beans (Dipteryx odorata) where it is the principle aromatic constituent (1-3%). In fact the name derives from "cumaru", an Amazonian dialect name for the Tonka bean tree.

• Origin & function of coumarin

Chemically, coumarin is a benzopyrone (1-benzopyran-2-one) which, apart from tonka beans, also occurs naturally in vanilla grass (Anthoxanthum odoratum), sweet woodruff (Galium odoratum), sweet clover (Meliotus L.), sweet grass (Hierochloe odorata) and cassia cinnamon (Cinnamomum aromaticum) among other species. In short, it's rather sweet, as you might have surmissed by now, and evokes cut grasses. You'd be correct to assume both facts, but that's not all: Although coumarin in perfumery does add a certain sweet note of mown hay or freshly cut grass with vanilla overtones, it's really bitterish in flavour in high concentrations (its -now banned- inclusion in food would attest that). Therefore theorizing its plant origin one would assume it's produced by plants in order to defend themselves from predation. After all it's also present in cherries, strawberries, and apricots, prime targets for birds. You might have even seen it featured in your rodent pesticide: don't be alarmed (coumarin is included in miniscule quantities in foodstuff anyway), but now you know why!

• History of coumarin discovery & synthesis

Natural perfumers used and continue to use tonka bean absolute and tonka in powder form, as well as deer's tongue, a herb with brittle leaves to render a coumarin note. But the story of coumarin is largely one of organic chemistry. The component was isolated by A.Vogel in 1820, but the laboratory synthesis of coumarin first happened in 1868 from coal tar by W.H.Perkin (who gave his name to "the Perkin reaction" used to produce it). It took another year to produce it in an industrial scale at Haarmann & Reimer. The consequent memorable inclusion of synthesized coumarin in Jicky (Guerlain 1889) and earlier in Fougère Royale (Houbigant 1882) was the kickstart of a whole new fragrance family: the fougère, thanks to Paul Parquet's composition for Houbigant. Fougère Royale contained a staggering 10% coumarin of the finished formula! How one can dream a bit while reading Guy de Maupassant describing this fragrance as "prodigious evocation of forests, of lands, not via their flora but via their greenery"...

• The Fougere fragrance family

Fougère fragrances evoke the smell of ferns at least as we imagine them to be, as by themselves they don't have a particularly noticeable odour (Paul Parquet said that if they could, they'd smell of Fougere Royale). But the concept of a scent that is herbaceous, infused with aromatic lavender ~a popular material for both sexes at the end of the 19th century thanks to its propriety in the "clean" sense of the world~ and which leaves a malleable, soft, enveloping, yet discreet aura on the wearer was lacking: The era was still using the Victorian soliflores. Funnily enough, even those had their own categorisation; violets or roses for the respectable lady, jasmine and tuberose for the courtesan. Fougère scents were on the cusp between approved and revolutionary, creating a very desirable pull.
The other principle constituents in the accord are lavender and oakmoss: It was only natural; lavender by itself contains coumarin in its aromatic makeup. Thus the triad comprising the main accord of the rising fougère (i.e.lavender-oakmoss-coumarin, played together like a musical chord) made coumarin itself quite popular: many classic or influential masculine colognes owe their character to it, starting of course with Jicky and continuing with Azzaro pour Homme (1978), Fahrenheit by Dior (1988), Dolce & Gabanna pour homme (1994), and Gucci pour Homme (2003).
From there coumarin infiltrated its way into many modern fragrances belonging in other families. But it was its pliability and usefulness, like a trusty Swiss knife, which made it the perfumers' darling: Are there more contrasting fragrances than the icy aldehydic Rive Gauche (YSL 1970) and the intense floral Amarige (Givenchy 1991)? Perfumers tell me that coumarin ends up in some degree in 90% of all fragrances; and in concentrations exceeding 1% it accounts for over half of the fragrances in the market!!

• The odour profile of coumarin

Coumarin is a water-insoluble crystallized powder which has an odour that is pleasant, soft and warm, evoking cut grass or new mown hay, but it's more complex than that; it sometimes even veers into a smell of fresh paint! This is what gives Jicky its bracing almost "petrol" opening which alienates some people. Originally biosynthesized via hydroxylation, glycolisis and cinnamic acid cyclization, nowadays coumarin is produced via more sophisticated techniques.
Coumarin conjures warm notes of tobacco (useful in masculine formulae) and because it also has caramel overtones, alternatively it can be married to vanillic components (such as vanilla, benzoin or some of the other oriental balsams, such as Tolu balsam or Peru balsam, as well as ethylvanillin) in order to play down and sophisticate their foody aspects: see it in action in orientals such as the discontinued Venezia by Laura Biagotti, Lolita au Masculin(Lempicka) or Casmir by Chopard.
In dilution coumarin projects with soft hazelnut or almond facets underneath the hay, even licorice; smell Lolita Lempicka (1997). But in higher concentration it also has spicy fresh and herbaceous facets, no doubt reminiscent of its primary role in different grasses. In combination with vanillin and bergamot, we're veering into chypre territory: Elixir des Merveilles is a no man's land with its chypre tonalities and gourmand facets.
Its versatility and its ability to "fix" smell and make it last longer allows coumarin to enter amber or woody blends (witness Samsara or Vetiver by Guerlain) as well and even heighten the appeal of spicy materials: in fact it marries very well with cinnamon or clove. Pi by Givenchy is a sweet spicy woody with lots of tonka bean, or smell L de Lolita Lempicka by Maurice Roucel. Usually, indeed coumarin is mentioned in the form of tonka beans in the traditional lists of "notes"/pyramids for fragrances (see this Index for more ingredients contributing to which "note") but it can also hide underneath grassy notes, clover, lavender, or tobacco. Modern perfumers pair it with synthetic woody-amber notes such as Kephalis and Iso-E Super to surprising results. A wonderful material indeed!

• Fragrances featuring discernible amounts of coumarin

Addict (Dior)
A*men (Thierry Mugler)
Amarige (Gievnchy)
Angel ~all concentrations, esp. extrait de parfum(Thierry Mugler)
Angel Sunessence (T.Mugler)
Angel La Rose (T.Mugler)
Antidote (Victor & Rolf)
Azzaro pour Homme (Loris Azzaro)
Azzaro Elixir Bois Precieux (L.Azzaro)
Blue Jeans (Versace)
Bois des Iles (Chanel)
Brit (Burberry)
Chic for Men (Carolina Herrera)
Coco (Chanel)
Coco Mademoiselle (Chanel)
Contradiction (Calvin Klein)
Etoile de Rem (Reminiscence)
Fahrenheit (Dior)
Fieno (Santa Maria Novela)
Fougere Royal (Houbigant)
Florissa (Floris)
Gloria (Cacharel)
Jasmin Noir (Bulgari)
Jicky (Guerlain)
Joop! Homme (Joop)
Kouros (Yves Saint Laurent)
Lavande (Molinard)
L de Lolita Lempicka
Lolita Lempicka (L.Lempicka)
Le Male (Jean Paul Gaultier)
Musc (Molinard)
Navy (Lily Bermuda)
Pi (Givenchy)
Rive Gauche (YSL)
Samsara (Guerlain)
Tonka Imperiale (Guerlain)
Venezia (Laura Biagotti)
Versace pour Homme (Versace)

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfumery Materials one by one

source of coumarin pic via The Health Nut Corner, ad for Houbigant via Punmiris and Jicky collage via Perfumesbighouse

Natalie Portman in Miss Dior Cherie 2011 Commercial

The sighs of Jane Birkin under Serge Gainsbourg's classic (and racy) "Je t'Aime...moi non plus" song are accompanying a new sexy siren of the 2000s: Natalie Portman, the newest face for Miss Dior Chérie, again directed by Sofia Coppola (as reported previously)and a viable Oscar contestant for her performance in Black Swan. It's funny to contemplate that the previous music choice for Sofia's commercial a few years ago was a tune by Brigitte Bardot, the very person who first sang the controversial orgasmic song by Gainsbourg; that version was revoked by her husband Gunter Sachs nevertheless. Serge then turned to Jane Birkin to record it to the outcry of the Vatican and the song became immortal in that version.

Nowadays it doesn't sound half as controversial as it did, but is the new commercial for Dior really reflecting the free sprit of the 60s and early 70s in an age that is so conservative despite the bom-bom swaying in hip hop videos and the public display of intimate personal details? "I am the wave, you the naked island"? "I go and I come in between your loins"? I think not...
Apart from a little suggestive play with a tie (posing as both a blindfold and a sort of leash) you'll have to squint your mental muscles into perceiving any more sexual innuendo in the Natalie Portman commercia!. The video is more romantic cliche than racy, although it's certainly more man-to-woman interactive than the previous "I fell fine trailblazing across Paris by myself" commercial by Coppola.
Talk about Natalie Portman stripping for the spot only resulted in her vaguely beginning to remove a few clothes with no more titillation, unless a bath tub scene where she's immersed up to her neck wearing sunglasses is considered risque. It looks like a shot from "Garden State"really, maybe a tip of the hat from the director. Sofia Coppola however really knows how to direct the whole into making us want to douse ourselves in overpriced Eau. Taking in mind I have an aversion to the overly sweet character of the original Miss Dior Chérie (but I do like L'Eau version), I find this is quite a feat! What do you think?

NB. The commercials are set to accompany the latest reformulation of the Eau de Parfum by head Dior perfumer F.Demachy.

Guy Laroche Fidji: fragrance review & history

Fidji by Guy Laroche, coming out in 1966, revolutioned the industry in more ways than one: First, it was at chasm with the previous French aesthetic perfumes coming out from French houses & designers. Here there was a fragrance which represented escapism, but that escapism was communicated in very American-shaped methods. Secondly, it showcased that apart from imaginative names (a tradition which knew some excellent examples in the past anyway), every perfume had to deliver a specific story, a story that would address a need and a desire of the audience to whom it was aimed at. Fidji succeeded beautiful but it also happened to be a beautiful perfume to begin with.

Composed by one of the unknown forces in the industry, nose Josephine Catapano, long before perfumers became rock-stars or began composing fragrances to evoke orgasmic effluvia, Fidji, a freshly green floral with tropical inclusions of ylang ylang and carnation, is a fragrance representative of its times and one which influenced many following it, such as Guerlain's Chamade, Cacharel Anais Anais, Chanel No.19, Givenchy III, Climat and even Charlie by Revlon. Fidji pushed to its extremities, on both ends of its skeleton, could be said to have inspired even Lauder for her bitter chypre Private Collection. After all, Catapano also worked for Lauder and IFF for years where she later became the mentor of Sophia Grojsman. Michael Edwards confirms my theory when he says:

[Fidji] “pioneered a new generation of fresh perfumes: Norell (1969), Charlie (1973), Gucci No 1 (1975) and a hundred other fragrances following its lead”.

Guy Laroche launched Fidji at a time when the youth market seemed like a particularly desirable budding segment to advertisers; what with the upheaval of the 1960s which brought out the power of young ideals and the romanticism of following your heart, and what with the desire of the young to map out their own territories, their own olfactory landscapes. These landscapes often revolved around the East or civilizations away from the Western anxieties...such as those of the South Pacific where the Fidji islands are located and the managers of the brand were taking their vacation when the idea formed. The Beatles were leaving for India and the hippies were gathering at Haight Asbury. Refound paradises were especially suggestive. The market demanded different approaches than the traditional "keeping up with the Joneses" social approach (a respectable perfume to assert one's spending power) or the heavy seduction games of old. Thus woman became "an island and Fidji was her perfume" as the memorable motto went. Women-isles through the years clutched the bottle closely to their smooth bosoms in the glossy images; women as famous as supermodel Linda Evangelista who posed for the ads in the early 1990s.

The olfactory inspiration for Fidji comes from another youthful (in its time) classic: L'Air du Temps by Nina Ricci. The salicylate heart with the clove-y tint was taken apart and enrobed in a new cloth, the rest modernised by Catapano accordingly and given a very fresh fuzzy start which is green rather than peachy, and a base with more patchouli and sandalwood which lasts well.

The opening impression of the Laroche scent is one of bitterish freshness with a cool (rather than warm) heart of flowers in which hyacinth pops its head, at odds with the modern expectations of a tropical evoking fragrance atavistically smelling of suntan oil and tiaré blossoms. Fidji isn't especially tropical despite the name and feels just as fitting in an al fresco lunch in the Hamptons in June, silk dresses in shades of paradise birds blowing softly in the breeze, as it does in an outdoor cafe in August-hot Barcelona with Verner Pantone S chairs laid out in orange and green. Its feminine sensuality is derived from the milky woodiness of sandalwood and the subtle musky trail it leaves on skin after the fresh floral notes and the mossy green dissipate; it behaves with delicate elegance and knows its place, even if it keeps its escapist fantasies close at heart.

Unfortunately, Fidji is among the creations which are best savoured in older formulations, as the modern Eau de Toilette, a rare sight at department stores or online, alongside its ancillary products, seems a bit thinned out, although still quite pleasant and many cuts above many more recent launches. Vintage Eau de Cologne concentration looks like a fine medium if you can't get yourself some of the old parfum. It's still available although rarer and rarer in some auction sites.

Notes for Guy Laroche Fidji:
citrus (lemon), galbanum, hyacinth, ylang ylang, carnation (via clove), spices, Bulgarian rose, jasmine, orris, vetiver, oakmoss, sandalwood, patchouli, balsam, musk, ambergris.

Frequent Questions: How to Date Guerlain Parure Bottles

Among the Guerlain fragrances, one of relatively not very old crop (1975) is seriously missed by connoisseurs: Parure, with its golden plummy reprise of what made Mitsouko the monument of beauty that it is. Simply put, Parure is a more wearable, more festive Mitsouko, a fruity chypre in the best possible sense "a wildly original blend of lilac and amber, cyprus and plum blossoms" (as quoted in a 1977 advertisement) and one of the last throes of a lineage which includes such beauties as Rochas Femme and Dior's Diorama. Parure is discontinued due to not conforming with recent standards of alleged allergens in the industry self-regulating body IFRA, according to an interview which the artistic director of maison Guerlain, Sylvaine Delacourte granted to Perfume Shrine in summer 2009. Very much a pity, shooting vintage juice on sale to stratospheric heights and justifiably so: Because Parure not only is lovely to smell, but it also came in some of the most beautiful, unique bottles and packaging in Guerlain history! In the interests of chronologising your bottles (or potential purchases, if you are so lucky as to find any), here is a small guide to Guerlain Parure perfume bottles.



The original edition in extrait de parfum is among the most beautiful specimens of crystal making: a rounded body topped with a crystal cap which reprises the movement of a wave, the whole mounted on a small pedestral in black bakelite engraved Guerlain and housed in a celadon-hued box. Six moulds were made by Pochet et du Courval from March 1975 till September 1981 in the following sizes:
2.3ml mini,
7.5ml/0.25oz,
15ml/0.5oz (with a footing in crystal instead of the black pedestral)
30ml/1oz, 60ml/2oz,
120cc (that's 120ml aprox.; it has no "foot" in crystal and bears 1974 copyright on the box, while it was stopped in October 1980) and a staggering mould for a 1290ml factice.
Saint-Gobin Desjonquères issued a 15ml/0.5oz mould in June 1979, which bears on the bottom in relief "Guerlain Paris Bottle made in France SGD" and the number of the lot.

A contemporary more standard amphora bottle of the extrait de parfum (like the one depicted here) was also in circulation as well as the "umbrella flacon" (see this article), probably aimed at different markets as is usual with a house with so rich a history as Guerlain.

From October 1981, the production of the magnificent Parure extrait "wave" bottle stopped altogether (making the crystal extrait version extremely sought after as a rare collectable). The fragrance was offered instead in standard quadrilobe bottles (which also houses many of the house's extraits to this day, such as Jicky, Nahema, Vol de Nuit etc) in sizes 7.5ml and 15ml. You can see a big picture of it on this article, reviewing a rarer scent in the Guerlain stable, Pour Troubler.
All extrait de parfum (pure parfum) producion in Parure stopped at the end of 1989 and the fragrance circulated in Eau de Toilette concentration (and Eau de Parfum from the 1980s onwards, but NOT Parfum de Toilette) thereafter.

Another very rare specimen and sought-after collectable is this design on the right, le flacon strié, as it's called. The rarity is due to it being a limited edition, issued for the Eau de Toilette of only Parure and Chant d'Arômes. This version by Saint-Gobin Desjonquères circulated from March 1994 until August 1995 in only 750.000 bottles for both scents. The box and round sticker label on the bottle are in geometrical patterns of red-orange-terracotta tones for Parure and in pink-yellow-pistachio hues for Chant d'Arômes.

Habit de Fete bottle for Eau de Toilette, far left and far right.

Flacon goutte for 500ml eau de toilette

The more standard bottle for the length of the late 1980s and 1990s in Parure Eau de Toilette and Eau de Parfum was the long refill bottle in the Habit de Fete gold canister with the cut-outs (left and right of the top photo): 50ml for Eau de Parfum and 93ml for Eau de Toilette.
Before that there was the flacon goutte (shaped like a large tear, hence teardrop bottle) with a mushroom-like cap for the Eau de Toilette in the 500ml size for dedicated wearers, depicted directly above. The label is oval with a black background and gold lettering, as you can see.



The final design for Parure comes in the standard "bee bottle" introduced for the rest of the Eau de Toilette range (including Après L'Ondée, Chant d'Aromes, Mouchoir de Monsieur, the Eaux de Cologne such as Impériale, Du Coq and Fleurs de Cedrat) in the early late 1990s. Two versions circulate in this size and style: one reformulated to meet latest requirements till 2009, the other with a shorter ingredients list slightly older. The packaging is otherwise identical.

Guerlain Parure is just one of the vintage scents where knowing the packaging history greatly adds to the better understanding of both scent and the collection value of any bottle.

top pic & goute pic thanks to les-parfums

Perfume Choices of the Famous: Liv Tyler

According to reportage, the stunning actress - for some years now an ambassadress for Givenchy and the face of the new fragrance Very Irresistible L'Intense - says "she doesn't like to change her fragrance as she wants people to recognise her smell but hates it when the scent is too much".

She's quoted as saying: "I like having one perfume that I wear all the time, so it becomes part of you. When someone remembers your scent, it's incredible. I don't like it when you first spray on a fragrance. It's nice when you've put it on in the morning, then in the evening, you can subtly smell it." [source]
Of course she's quick to point out that the newest Givenchy is her favourite. As if she wouldn't. Doesn't really matter: Liv is lovely whatever she wears.

Cacharel Anais Anais: fragrance review & history

Who could imagine a block-buster perfume today being promoted through porcelain-skined beauties in soft focus showing no inch of skin beyond their necks set to pre-classical music? And yet Anais Anais, the first perfume by Cacharel (1978), was advertised exactly like that and became THE reference scent for the early 1980s for droves of young women who still reminiscence fondly of it 30 years later. It's also one of the most influential perfumes in history, at least on what concerns marketing success ~a triumph of Annette Louit~ and top-to-bottom design, if not complexity, quality materials or classicism of composition. It didn't possess any of the latter.

Yet it's still featured on the Cacharel website prominently and is up front on perfume counters. For many,
Anais Anais by Cacharel was the first fragrance they got as a gift; or even better the first they cashed out their pocket money for: Its image was youthful from the start. No doubt the deceptively innocent scent, coupled with the dreamy advertisements accounted for that, as did the opaline packaging with the pastel flowers on it and the slightly suggestive name. It was the debate of many, to this day: Was Anais Anais a reference to writer Anais Nin and her ~"forbidden" to the young~ erotic literature, such as Delta of Venus? Or was it a nod to the ancient Persian goddess Anaitis, goddess of fertility? And which was more provocative?

Cacharel was specializing in retro knits at the time and both references for the name were valid enough, although the company always officially went with the latter. The goddess was testament to a peculiar cultural phenomenon on what concerned the position of woman in the zeitgeist: On the one hand Anais Anais with its imagery disrupted the context of feminism in perfume; the complete antithesis of Charlie by Revlon (1973), if you will, where Shelley Hack was dressed in pants skipping off to work or grabbing the bum of a cute guy in the street as an outward manifestation of her desire to be divested of her traditional passive role. These were both youthful fragrances advertised to the young. So what had intervened in those 5 years elapsing to account for such a change? Nothing much. (If you exclude the rush of spicy orientals in the market in the wake of Opium's success). The French aesthetic was always more traditionally feminine than the American one, going for Venus over Diana, and the marketeers soon realized that the beauty industry can't disregard the changes of times, but deep down, it will always depend on the passivity of the consumer into buying "hope in a jar". Perfume is perhaps the most mysterious of all beauty products, ladden with hundreds associations and legion aspirations. It was deemed best to start bouncing the ball back right away... Plus the youth market hadn't been exploited sufficiently (this was back in the 1970s remember) and someone had perceived that the young regarded standard perfume imagery as bourgeois and old-fashioned: they needed their own. Cacharel was extra attentive to grow the market; they put basins in department stores where they encouraged young women to plunge their hands in basins of water, dry them, apply scented cream on them and then finishing off with a spritz of Anais Anais, extoling the virtues of "layering" for a lasting effect. A youth phenomenon was at work.


And Sarah Moon was called for the Anais Anais advertisements: To take shots of women as pale-limped and virginaly innocent as paintings, lily-like, exactly like the opaline bottle and the main core of the fragrance which was built on lilies of the fields. The long limps gained an almost Piero Della Francesca sanctity, the doe-eyed gazes were soft and narcotized, almost. Were they beckoning unto the males watching, inviting by their easy-to -prey-on-passivity and odalisque-style harem numbers? Or were they nuzzling on each other evoking lesbian fantasies? Perhaps the most provocative thing is that the ladies in question all appeared so very.. young; almost under-age! Whatever the intention, the imagery is still memorable: It marks a mental no-mands-land between the advent of feminism in advertising and the regression to conservative values of the 1990s, peppered with some of the issues that still concern those of us who immerse themselves in beauty advertising with a critical eye.

Four perfumers were credited with the creation of Anais Anais jus: Paul Leger, Raymond Chaillan, Roger Pellegrino and Robert Gonnon, working at Firmenich. A surprising fact as the formula isn't complicated or challenging really. The opening is fresh and a little "screechy", a touch
of green galbanum resin felt all the way through the base (galbanum is in fact a base note but it's felt at the top), giving a herbaceous overture that segues into the main attraction: lily of the valley forms the core coupled with another "clean" note, that of orange blossom, sanctified through the wonders of analytical chemistry. White lilies melt as if gaining human form, tender, devoid of their customary spiciness and given a touch of woody dryness. There is a supporting accord of honeysuckle, jasmine and rose, played sourdine; it's not especially felt. The permeating cleanness continues for long before a hint of playful soft leather in the base surfaces alongside indeterminate, powdered woods to give an intriguing twist to the plot: is this an autumnal scent for more mature women, I wonder?
Although I seem to recall the scent of Anais Anais as a little bit more "substantial" in all its softness, there is no major change in its formula last I compared batches, probably because there is not much of allergens-suspect ingredients necessitating restrictions and because hydrocitronellal (lotv note) has been successfuly substituted anyway. It's a pity the parfum concentration has been extinct for some years now, as it played up the autumnal basenotes beautifully.

Notes for Cacharel Anais Anais
Top: Bergamot, galbanum, hyacinth, honeysuckle, orange blossom
Middle: Lily, lily of the valley, rose, ylang-ylang, tuberose, carnation
Base: Cedarwood, sandalwood, amber, oakmoss, incense, vetiver




Sarah Moon photography via weheartit.com and thefashionspot.com

The winner of the draw...

...for the Conaffetto sample is *Jen. Congrats and please email me with your particulars using the email contact on Profile or About page, so I can get this out to you soon.

Thanks to everyone for the participation and till the next one!

Sunny Fragrances to Beat the Winter Blues

There are some occasions in the lagging days of winter, eternally stuck someplace between middle & end of February, when the snow keeps piling up at the front windows and the birds fly down-spin over the yard, which can exasperate even the bravest of brave souls. Although my own native winters are mild & sunny, with only the occasional snowfall, white flakes not sturdy enough to pile up and withstand the coming out of the sun the next day, every time I have been away from home into a northern European country or in the windy winters of Down Under beside the lapping of the cold ocean, I got a taste for what it must feel like to always be cold, always rubbing one's nose when outside to stop it from getting numb.

The scented world around seems sleeping, with the indoor smells gaining momentum, but perfume can provide an intentional, on demand change of one's landscape: How exquisite a pearly aldehydic floral seems on an ice-cold day and how bright & dreamy does a floriental, full of the sunny rays that warmed the petals of its tropical flowers...

My picks for instilling a sunny disposition and banish those winter blahs comprise a list of perfumes which are noted for their optimism, sheer joie de vivre, indulgent nature and easy wearing; in two words, uncomplicated happiness! Fragrances to remind you of the coming of spring and to put a spring in your (still mutton-wearing) step! After all, in Turkish tradition the end of February marks the end of winter's cemre: Cemre are 3 fireballs coming from heavens to warm the earth for the coming of spring; the first appears on February 19-20, the second between February 26-27 and the third falls to ground on 5-6 March...Spring is just round the corner!
And if you're gifting someone to cheer them up, consider a bouquet of chocolate hearts for a perfect gift hamper accompanied with an elegant floral perfume for a striking impression.

10 Fragrances to Beat the Winter Blues for Men/Women:

Patricia de Nicolai Le Temps d'une Fête
The perfect hyacinth-ladden green floral to evoke spring, full of crushed leaves & grass; a fragrance so beautiful and cheerful that it will make you spin around and around humming Mendelssohn's Spring Song even when getting down the Christmas decorations.

Ayala Moriel Les Nuages de Joie Jaune
Described as "drifting in yellow clouds of happiness", this is an all-natural soliflore fragrance built on the yellow pom-poms of mimosa and the honeyed goodness of cassie. As light as air and as joyful as the first bright, sunny day in late February. [availability]

Annick Goutal Songes
Someplace in the tropics, languorous women with Gaugin-esque physiques pick up cananga odorata (ylang ylang blossoms) to render their sunny essence which finds its way inside this summery potion of liquid sunshine. A floriental full of the suntan and solar notes of salicylates, fanned on a vanillic and woody base.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Mandarine Basilic
These succulent Mediterranean flavours, combining almost as in a fruit salad, benefit from the spicy zing of the basil note. An easy, piquant scent which lifts the mood anytime.

Profumum Victrix
The Latin sounding name hides a masculine cologne of earth and wind, where the laurel, the greens and the coriander conspire to give notions of open, endless prairies under a dog-toothed sun.

Molinard de Molinard
Fruity floral in the best possible sense. If you like Amazone and just didn't know where to look to to find a similar fragrance, look no further. This is has the happy ambience of a warm summer evening spent at an outdoors cinema in Sicily or a Greek island, all paved with gravel, with thick jasmine & honeysuckle vines climbing its walls, watching Cinema Paradiso.


Hermès Concentrée d'Orange Verte
This lime-laced cologne is simply the best masculine/unisex cologne to lift a lagging mood or a weary spirit. The hesperidic touch is enough to get you out of bed as sure as a good Robusta.

Patou Câline
The greenly fresh aldehydic sophistication and malleable primness of Patou’s Câline remind me of Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina, after her European trip in which she becomes a proper “lady”, almost unrecognizable to those who knew her as merely the chauffer’s daughter to the rich family. [Full review here.]

Lancôme Miracle So Magic
A surprising entry in the Miracle flankers stable, this is composed by Annick Menardo and although it diverts from her smoky, dark path, it bears a remarkable affability without insipidness: the green sweet smell of clover fields opens up on an endless vista in front of you as wild-flowers zoom into focus. Just lovely!

Hermès Iris Ukiyoé
Its detractors call it "Yuck! Away!" but don't let this parody on the Japanese-alluding name deter you. Notes of an aqueous hydrangea and a lightly spicy grape-like accent bring forth the fantasy of the iris flower, instead of the familiar rooty-violety root. Spring-like! [Full review here.]

And of course anticipating some of the upcoming fragrances for spring makes one dream a little bit and withstand the last throes of cold better. Catch them up here!

And you? What are your favourite fragrances to come out of hibernation? Tell me in the comments.



Spring Song by Felix Mendelssohn from "Lieder Ohne Worte".
Painting "The Promise of Spring" by Lawrence Alma-Tadema.
Molinard pic via Perfumes.bighouse.blogspot.com. Goutal bottle via thefragrantelf.livejournal.com