Yet to Come...

Source: clicparhasard.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

I want to take this chance to wish you all for a superlatively creative, loving and joyful New Year and to thank you for reading the Perfume Shrine. The delightful feedback from readers makes writing these pages especially gratifying and has been one of the most enjoyable moments of the past year for me.
In case you missed it, take a look at our Best & Worst in 2012 list and do take part in the giveaway!

All the best,
Elena

Perfume Quote: When All our Tears Have Run Dry...

Élisabeth, Comtesse Greffulhe, one of Proust's models for the Duchesse de Guermantes

"[Perfume is] that last and best reserve of the past, the one which when all our tears have run dry, can make us cry again.” ~ Marcel Proust

Especially poignant and funny when one considers that Proust had acute asthma and suffered from life-threatening allergies to pollen, mildew, smoke, dust and (yes) perfume...

And yet the constant reference to Proust in "perfume related writing" goes on. Avery Gilbert has a good post on why it might not be such a good idea to reference him and his madeleine so idly all the time after all.

But Marcel was a literary genius with no writer's block in sight. Here's how he describes asparagus giving pee its distinctive aroma:

"“... asparagus, tinged with ultramarine and rosy pink which ran from their heads, finely stippled in mauve and azure, through a series of imperceptible changes to their white feet, still stained a little by the soil of their garden-bed: a rainbow-loveliness that was not of this world. I felt that these celestial hues indicated the presence of exquisite creatures who had been pleased to assume vegetable form, who, through the disguise which covered their firm and edible flesh, allowed me to discern in this radiance of earliest dawn, these hinted rainbows, these blue evening shades, that precious quality which I should recognise again when, all night long after a dinner at which I had partaken of them, they played (lyrical and coarse in their jesting as the fairies in Shakespeare’s Dream) at transforming my humble chamberpot into a bower of aromatic perfume.” ~M.Proust, Swann's Way

quote source

2012 Best & Worst in Fragrance & Style: a Recap & a Giveaway

It's that time of the year again. Making lists is fun because it makes one think they're smart and organized. Reading lists is fun too, because it allows one to vehemently disagree with what are idiosyncratic choices to begin with. So see if you share or not any of Perfume Shrine picks for 2012 in the comments and we will all have fun.

The past year was generally not exactly bad for perfume, though it was largely repetitive (even Lutens reprised Passage d'Enfer for his L'Eau Froide!). The bad news is probably coming in 2013, if Dr.Ian White, chairman of the EU Scientific Committee on Consumer Protection (SCCP) is to have his way. The (new and "improved") impending perfumery restrictions (look up our tag Restrictions under the Index on the right hand column of the site, if you're clueless) mean a total recomposing of the entire Guerlain, Dior, etc canon! Unpaid, I might add, so it's a conflict of interest on a very high level. This is also NOT necessarily only due to opting for cheaper synthetics (in lieu of naturals) or for "allergy-risk-minimizing" ingredients; one issue that is not talked about is stabilization (for instance, the molecules that account for the beauty of Diorissimo have been restricted because they can't be effectively stabilized from batch to batch, which meant the ruin of Diorissimo...)

But for now, let's explore what 2012 brought...

pic via basenotes.net

Worth Investing In Mainstream Fragrances 

L'Ambre des Merveilles (Hermes)
[NB. I'm not including Jour d'Hermes (a review of which is linked here) as the wide release is scheduled for 2013]
Spicebomb (Victor & Rolf)


"Meh" Mainstream Fragrances

Florabotanica (Balenciaga)
Gucci Premiere (Gucci)
Coco Noir (Chanel)
La Vie est Belle (Lancome)

The greatest crime of the above is their lukewarm aspect. Not reprehensibly bad, and I'm sure they will have their fans, but in the end...yawn inducing.

collage via dailymakeover.com

Niche Lovelies: Fragrances Worth your Time 

Opardu (Puredistance)
Une Voix Noire (Serge Lutens)
Loretta (Tableau de Parfums by Andy Tauer)
L'Homme Infini (Divine)
Tawaf (La Via del Profumo)
Fis de Dieu du Riz et des Agrumes (Etat Libre d'Orange)
Hedera Helix (Roxana Illuminated Perfume)
...also see my Personal Discoveries below.

With possibly the exception of Hedera Helix (an all naturals composition focused on the elusive greenery of ivy) the above mentioned are not getting praise for sheer innovation so much, as for their exceptional mastery in execution. Smooth, polished, masterful, they create their own little space which like true beauty requires a second (and third, and fourth) glance.

pic via evilmolly.com

So Ugly It Deserves to be Enshrined as an Exemplary Artifact of our Crazy Times
I'm talking about the Nikki Minaj perfume bottle. Yes, this above is a perfume bottle... I know!!

Perfumes You Wish Weren't Exclusive, But Darn They Are (For Now...)

The Guerlain Les Deserts d'Orient line, destined for the Middle East Market (though there are a few bottles available in Europe, here and there, too -a reader has since informed me there are some at Bergdorf's too): Rose Nacree du Desert, Songe d'Un Bois d'Ete, and Encens Mythique d'Orient are too beautiful not to be enjoyed by more perfume lovers, so get some if you can.

Hors Categorie 

Dark Passage (Tableau de Parfums by Andy Tauer)
Delicious patchouli. Dark as the pitch-black night. Decidedly limited distribution, whoever got one owns a true collectible.

Losses of the Year

The death of master perfumer Guy Robert signaled the toll of an era gone the way of the dodo. His masterpieces Dior Dioressence, Madame Rochas, Hermes Equipage, Amouage Gold, and Hermes Doblis are an ephemeron reminder of how perfumery used to operate.
Josephine Catapano quietly passed away full of days, but it was the Shock of the Year to hear of the untimely death of Alec Lawless; his wit and knowledge will be missed.

Kickstarting Discourse of the Year

The MAD Museum exhibition The art of Scent curated by Chandler Burr. Not the first fragrance exhibition in an academic setting, as erroneously reported on some journalistic venues, but the first to disassociate the jus from the packaging, the fashion houses and the advertising paraphernalia completely. A brave new step ~with controversy naturally attached to it, as befits such projects.

Greatest personal "discoveries" in 2012

The entire Ramon Monegal perfume line
The Maria Candida Gentile perfume line
Monegal launched this summer in the USA, although it comes from an old perfumer quite active in Spain. Mon Patchouly, Mon Cuir and Impossible Iris are absolutely smashing (and full bottles are on my wishlist). The rest of the line is also wonderful (Dry Woods, Umbra, Lovely Day etc), you really can't go wrong! C.M.Gentile produced fragrances rich in gorgeous naturals for a while, but I only got to know her oeuvre in early 2012, so I consider it apropos (read my reviews of Exultat, Cinabre and Hanbury on these links if you like).

Celebrity Fragrance Talk Yawn of the Year

Fame by Lady Gaga
If Gaga of all people can't bring out a controversial juice on the market, the whole celebrity fragrance concept is artistically doomed. Not that we didn't suspect as much all along.

Celebrity Fragrance "No Kidding" of the Year

Truth or Dare by Madonna 
Madonna issues a celebrity fragrance (and a sheerer flanker too) a million years after her zeitgeist zenith. But the juice is good!

Time-Sensitive Editions you Should Have Grabbed When You Could

Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia (Guerlain)
I'm never sure whether any of the newer Aqua Allegorias actually start out as limited editions or just get axed when they don't perform as expected (Herba Fresca and Pamplelune are in the line for ages, for example, whereas Flora Nerolia due to no fault of its juice disappeared all too quickly). In short, if you like it, stock up.

Promising Upstarts

Rouge Bunny Rouge fragrances
The chic and playful makeup brand has dabbled in fragrance. Pas mal! I'm going to write up a bit on those in the near future.

collage by fashionista.com

Butt-Clenching Commercial of the Year

Chanel No.5 featuring Brad Pitt
When the SNL spoofs are more interesting, hilarious and non sensical than the commercial itself you know you've hit an all time low. This goes under the "what were they thinking?" tag and should be defended in a court of law under the temporary insanity plead. I sure hope Joe Wright's ego gets a needed resizing (he's not that great) and that the people at Chanel recover. Commercially I'm told the Brad Pitt fronted campaign rejuvenated interest at the counter (wtf?!). Artistically speaking, it's -sorry- the pits.
As one commenter accurately says: "Brad Pitt looks like a wet labrador. A wet, loyal labrador who's talking about I dont know what. Soaked dogs isnt something Chanel is known for so I'm just as confused as everyone else as to what's going on in that ad".  Couldn't have said it better myself...

And now time for the Giveaway: One lucky reader gets a big goodie bag with mini bottles/decants of ALL the fragrances I thought as worth sampling this year! All you need to do is write a comment with your own thoughts, feelings, opinions, agreeing/disagreeing in the comment section below the post, anything goes.
Draw is open till January 2nd midnight internationally; the winner will be announced on January the 3rd.
Good luck!!

Twin Peaks: L'Eau Froide by Lutens and Passage d'Enfer by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Monastic, cool, ethereal? In many ways L'Eau Froide is anti-Lutens, whereas Passage d'Enfer is L'Artisan Parfumeur down to the most minuscule detail. Though both brands are pioneers of niche, as Now Smell This notes they're a "study in contrasts". The Byzantine plot of a typical Serge Lutens is bringing the exotica of the Moroccan souk into a 19th century aesthete's dream sequence and from there into an urbanite's esoteric scent collection. L'Artisan on the other hand approaches perfumery via a luminous, refined, transparent approach as championed by founder Jean Laporte and perfumers Jean Claude Ellena, Olivia Giacobetti, Anne Flipo and Betrand Duchaufour. Even the ambers in the L'Artisan line are diaphanous instead of thick whereas their woody and "green" fragrances smell the way psithurism sounds.

via birdytg.blogspot.com

And yet...Inhale the icy ringing air coming from the thundra filling your lungs. Feel the chill of cold water in a silver-tiled pool where you anticipated warmth. Remember the surprising burning sensation on your tongue upon munching an ice cube against the hardness of adamantine. Feel the wet, clean feel of stones in a brook. And imagine a kiss from dead lips... If De Profundis aimed to capture the scent of death, the cold tentacles of a serene end to all can be felt in L'Eau Froide, from the pristine white-lined coffin to earth's cool embrace. I personally find this philosophical attitude to mortality very peaceful and cleasing to the mind. And not totally antithetical to the ethos of Lutens, come to think of it.

The terpenic, bright side of Somalian frankincense (reminiscent of crushed pine needles) is given prominence in Passage d'Enfer, much like in the Lutens 'eau' which unfolds the terpenes after a fresh mint start; this exhibits a hint of pepperiness (could it be elemi, another resin?) giving a trigeminal nerve twist. The effect is dry and very clean indeed (but unlike the screechy aldehydic soapiness & ironing starch of the first L'Eau), with a lemony, bitter orange rind note that projects as resinous rather than fruity and a projection and sillage that are surprising for something so ghostly, so ethereal, so evanescent. It's the scrubbing mitt of a monastery in the southern coastline, rather than the standard aquatic full of synthetic molecules dihydromyrcenol and Calone coming out of the cubicle in an urban farm. 

Still this aesthetic is something with which the average perfumista hasn't come to terms with yet; it will probably take a whole generation to reconcile perfumephiles with "clean" after the horros that have befallen them in the vogue for non-perfume-perfumes in the last 20 years. I'm hopeful. After all being a perfumista means challenging your horizons, right?

Notes for L'Eau Froide (2012): olibanum, sea water, musk, vetiver, mint, incense, pepper and ginger
Notes for Passage d'Enfer (1999): lily, incense, woodsy notes and musk.

Both are available through niche distributors at more or less comparative price-points.

And just before dawn at the paling of the sky, the stranger returned

 A merry merry Christmas to those who celebrate and peace & goodwill to all...

Festive Aromas: Pork Carré with Dried Apricots and Prunes

Nothing spells holidays like a gathering around the hearth, on the festive table, with good company of loved ones and sensuous food and drink to make mortality seem like an afterthought. Although many roast a turkey for the holidays, the traditional dish for Christmas in Greece has always been pork, prepared in a variety of ways. Since the pantry is so rich in dried fruits and herbs that hint at the summery pleasures nostalgically preserved for the solstice, I prefer to make the following recipe. It's very easy and quick and truly delicious, as the intermingling of flavors oscillates between savory, sweet and umami.

Ingredients

16 small cutlets of tender pork with bone (2 carrés, reserved at your butcher's)
28 dried apricots (without pits)
28 dried prunes (without pits)
8 onions, peeled & cut in halves
800ml (2.5 cans) lager beer
2 teaspoons dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon cardamom (powdered or very finely chopped)
8 spoons extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

For the sauce
100ml white wine
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard


1.Preheat the oven at 170C.
2.Place onions, apricots and prunes in a bowl soaked in the beer for a quarter of an hour. Then drain and keep the marinate liquid.
3.Place the pork on a heatproof pan and drizzle oil and marinate over it. Sprinkle the herbs and spices and put in the oven for 1.5 hours.
4.Then add the marinated onions, prunes and apricots and let it sit for another 40 minutes, taking care so as not to let it dry (you can add spoonfuls of water if it starts having no liquid).
5.When done, transfer into pretty flatware and serve with the cooked fruits around the edges. Keep a little of the liquid off the pan at hand for the sauce.
6.Put the liquid in a small pan on the stove, add the wine and the mustard and let simmer for 5 minutes. Check for taste/saltiness. Pour over the meat and serve on the table.

It accompanies rice pilaf (preferably prepared with pine nuts and roasted chestnuts) or baked potatoes perfectly!

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate and a happy time for all!

pic via gastronomos.gr

Sophisticated, Fresh or Dirty? Three Fragrance Genres

"
It isn’t just the likes of Byredo, L’Artisan or Serge Lutens that are experimenting with perfumes packed with dark mystery, even Christian Dior and Yves Saint Laurent are jumping onto the oud bandwagon with their recent launches. The arguments being offered for this trend are that fragrance has always been divided into two camps: French (floral, girly, sophisticated, subtle) or American (fresh, upfront, clean). But there is a third camp: sexy, dirty, animalistic, darker… And the niche perfume houses have catered to this third camp." [source]

via http://theblacknarcissus.files.wordpress.com

One might even argue that these divides are not so neatly divided as that! In fact the author of the quote, Vir Sanghvi, goes on to mention "dirty" French scents and one he's drawn to himself, Piguet Bandit, which he finds "dirty" even though he notes the French don't ~for what it's worth I don't particularly either. What's more I don't find American fragrances to always be "upfront & clean" either (cue in Youth Dew, Aromatics Elixir etc. )

Additionally, "fresh" seems to have gone through an historical trajectory. I was contemplating this while replying to one of my readers regarding the popularity of fruity notes in fragrances the other day, thinking that as consumers we have removed ourselves from the notion of "fresh" of yore. Back then, in the middle section of the 20th century "fresh" meant soapy scents (full of aldehydes, rose-jasmine and musks) or grooming rituals (the shaving foam impression of a good masculine fougere, the face and body powder dry aura of a mossy fragrance or one rich in aldehydes and musks). Nowadays we have been conditioned to believe that fresh is equivalent to the scent of the products we use in our showers; most shampoos have a fruity aroma (usually peach, berry combinations, grapefruit and green apples). So do shower gels, cleansing products and other paraphernalia of cleaning rituals, be it for body or home use. So "fresh" as a concept has significantly shifted.


 Still, it's fun to contemplate, do these divides help make a distinction between different sensibilities? Are they regionally/culturally founded? Do you find yourself mostly in one camp as opposed to another and why/why not?

Top 10 Most Popular Fragrances in France 2012 for Men & for Women and Favorites for the Opposite Sex

Best-selling lists are always interesting to ponder on as they reveal more than merely shopping habits. When it comes to how women view specific perfumes as "ideal" (or close to ideal) however it gains on even more esoteric nuances as it bypasses the obstacle of price hindrances or availability. To that end Promise Consulting Inc has generated a most interesting research comprising 1082 women 18 years old and upwards (out of which 1000 are perfume buyers themselves), conducted between 28 November and 15 December 2012 which resulted on a list of perfumes that French women view as close to what they consider "ideal", as well as which perfumes they find best for offering to men. Men on a similar pool of subjects were also asked which perfumes garner their interest as "ideal" to offer to their women, as well as which they judge as most desirable for themselves. The results, posted below are most revealing. [NB.Please note these are my personal interpretations of the results and therefore the companies themselves or the research firm might disagree. I urge you to discuss your own opinions on them in the comments!]

via popthusiasm.blogspot.com

First of all it's a resounding affirmation which I have long held that the French consumer is comparatively conservative and relying on established brands with recognized "luxury cachet" (and is therefore a stark contrast to the USA best-selling perfumes list for the same year). Big companies do not invest money in their marketing and advertising budget without knowing this intimately. Campaigns such as Dior's J'Adore featuring Charlize Theron (and recently reprising silver screen icons to supplement the glamour) have helped make a sensation out of a perfume that very soon after its introduction it became the leader in the market. Niche fragrances are nowhere to be found in such lists, confirming the above view and validating the term "niche" after all.

It's intriguing to see that the women's preferred perfumes list doesn't vary much from the actual best-selling perfumes list for 2011: in short, what French women end up buying is what French women consider most desirable for themselves, hence the undisputed throne of J'Adore by Dior, which has been a steady best-seller for 10 years now. Florals, fruity florals, woody florals (Parisienne, Flower)  and "gourmands" (Nina, Lolita Lempicka) reign supreme. Although there is technically a "French style perfume genre", modern French women are  more fashion-conscious than that; market trends have marched on and women have embraced the trends no matter where they're situated.

Comparing with what men actually seek to gift their women with is fascinating: the notoriety and pedigree of classics (No 5, Shalimar) takes precedence over popularity, but not by too large a margin: J'Adore is sandwhiched between No.5 and Shalimar. A few other suggestions crop up which haven't been featured in the women's list. Generally it involves perfumes which have been best-selling for years before, such as Angel or Coco Mademoiselle, which women themselves do not mention in their most desired top-10 probably due to overexposure to them over the years of smelling them everywhere. Men, even French men, on the other hand seem to like familiar scents (scents they have smelled before) and they also like to lean on a stable, surefire standby that has proven its value before, such as a "classic". As Frédéric Malle puts it on the current issue of Vogue.fr: “A lot of people give Chanel No. 5 for the same reason they might buy an Apple computer—because they think they can’t go wrong.” Orientals seem more populated in the men's list than on the women's.

Men choosing for themselves is also interesting as opposed to what women find as best for their men. Although "fresh" is the default choice there are some interesting variations on the theme. Hugo Boss, Azzaro and Calvin Klein have sold their fragrances with a virility or modernity angle for ages and continue to do so. The classic Eau Sauvage by Dior features  highly in both sexes' lists (possibly rekindled by the 2010 commercial featuring Alain Delon scenes from 1960s film La Piscine). The celebrity or eye-candy factor might be why Dior Homme is on the list of women liking on men (a combination of scent and Jude Law fronted advertising), whereas the same fragrance doesn't appear on the "men for themselves" list. Generally men are proving more conservative in their choices once again.
There is the anomaly of women designating Chanel Allure Eau de Toilette (which is marketed to women!) for men. I can't possibly account for that fact other than to say there might have been some mix-up between names and gender-targeted smells and since Allure in eau de toilette is generally "fresh" (with citrus top notes and a clean powdery drydown) it might appear good for a man to wear regardless of the demographic it's aimed at. Le Male is higher on the men's list than on the women's list for men gift-giving,  I'm hypothesizing because the image of the androgynous (and being a "gay" favorite) creates a distance between established luxury and "hipness".

Top 10 perfumes that women appreciate as best for themselves (France 2012):

1.Dior J'adore
2.Dior Miss Dior (Cherie)
3.Chanel No.5
4.Nina Ricci Nina (apple bottle, modern juice)
5.Kenzo Flower
6.Yves Saint Laurent Parisienne
7.Guerlain La Petite Robe Noire
8.Lancome Tresor
9.Lolita Lempicka Lolita (original)
10.Nina Ricci L'Air du Temps

Top 10 perfumes that men appreciate as best to gift to women (France 2012):

1. Chanel No.5
2.Dior J'Adore
3.Guerlain Shalimar
4.Lancome Tresor
5.Dior Miss Dior (Cherie)
6.Chanel Coco
7.Chanel Coco Mademoiselle
8.Dior Pure Poison
9.Kenzo Flower
10.Thierry Mugler Angel

Top 10 fragrances that men appreciate as best for themselves (France 2012):
1.Hugo Boss Boss
2.Hugo Boss Hugo
3.Jean Paul Gaultier Le Male
4.Dior Eau Sauvage
5.Azzaro pour Homme
6.Calvin Klein CK One
7.Armani Aqua di Gio
8.Dior Farhenheit
9.Hugo Boss Boss Signature
10.Chanel Allure Homme Sport

Top 10 fragrances that women appreciate as best to gift to men (France 2012):
1.Hugo Boss Boss
2.Dior Eau Sauvage
3. Chanel Allure Homme
4.Armani Aqua di Gio
5.Chanel Allure (the women's Eau de toilette, please note)
6.Dior Homme
7.Hugo Boss Hugo
8.Azzaro pour Homme
9.Chanel Allure Homme Sport
10.Jean Paul Gaultier Le Male

 The data comes from Promise Consulting Inc in partnership with Huffingtonpost.fr, hence the pics.

Twin Peaks: Ormonde Jayne Champaca & Calvin Klein Truth

Usually the purpose of a Twin Peaks smell-alikes article is to highlight affinities between a higher end fragrance and one which is offered at a comparative price. However it's not solely that. A discontinued or catastrophically reformulated perfume that could be "relived" through experiencing a decent substitute, no matter its provenience, is also worth mentioning. To the latter case I present a comparison between Champaca by British niche brand Ormonde Jayne, which is currently in production, and Truth by Calvin Klein, which has been discontinued a few years already.

via lucacambiaso.deviantart.com

The reason CK Truth for women was discontinued is lost on me. It had everything going for it when it launched back in 2000; from the subtle yet lingering aroma of green bamboo shoots and comforting woody-musky notes to the sensuous advertising and the aesthetically pleasing contours of the packaging, it looked like a much better bet for the Calvin Klein brand than many others in the overpopulated line. The evocation of a woman's skin was sensuous and done with an interesting twist to eschew too obvious a musk note by Alberto Morillas, Jacques Cavallier and Thierry Wasser. It even had its own "blending kit" of 6 key essences (one of which I distinctly recall was a lilac "accord", to my confirmation of the intimacy of this innocent looking flower) to custom mix so as to produce your individual scent combination, a Truth Lush flanker in 2002 and a "sensual bedtime fragrance" flanker -smelling exactly as it name suggests- launched in 2003.

With that in mind it's safe to say CK Truth could be classified under "undeserved commercial flops" as a marketing case study that includes other honorary mentions such as Feu d'Issey and Kenzo L'Elephant. Perhaps the fault was one of timing: By 2003 the advent of "gourmands", i.e. a subcategory of oriental fragrances heavy on the vanilla which mimicked popular desserts smells, was inescapable and the clean, serene, aromatic woody bouquet of Truth was hors categorie.

Champaca by Ormonde Jayne on the other hand, coming from a niche firm, had a clear advantage. It is also "foody", but in the most unusual sense. In fact coming out in 2002 places it at that crossroads mentioned above. And yet, being "savory" rather than "sweet" (in the vanillic or ripe fruity sense), Champaca also pre-empts a trend that took wings by the end of the 2000s; the slightly salty, savory scents which do recall some dish or other, but less overtly than "cupcake" and "cake batter". The cult success of the perfume within the de iuoro limited perimeter of the niche fragrance market was due to its super comforting odor profile. The sweetly creamy, floral note of champaca, a yellow magnolia common in India, was married to the note of steamed basmati rice, itself a nurturing image, Earth Goddess and all.

The inspiration came from a couple who were neighbours to Linda Pilkington when at her first London appartment; whenever they steamed rice, the building smelled cozy and like home. I only found that info later, from Linda herself, but it justified my own impression that Champaca would work great as a room fragrance, one for a cozy restaurant in off-white colors with big sofas around to immerse oneself in like giant cocoons. As the scent progresses the floral element of Champaca is diminished and it turns somewhat "greener" and a tiny bit sour, while still very very soft and non-obtrusive with the low hum that perfumer Geza Schoen is known for.

The Ormonde Jayne seems less "skin scent" than the Klein one overall, the latter being a little tarter and with less of a foody element, but they're remarkably close. Some people notice a third simile with Fraicheur Vegetale Bamboo by Yves Rocher, but I haven't tried that one. If you have please discuss.

Notes for Calvin Klein Truth:
bamboo, wet woods, white peony, vanilla, white amber and sandalwood
Notes for Ormone Jayne Champaca:
Neroli, pink pepper, bamboo, Champaca, Basmati rice, green tea, myrrh, musk.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: More smell-alikes fragrances on this link.

Perfumery Material: Elemi

Patricia Davis in her Aromatherapy A-Z [1] claims that the source of the name "elemi" is an Arabic phrase meaning "above and below" (in itself an abbreviation of "as above, so below") which hints at the spiritual connotations of this sacred ingredient. Similar to frankincense and muhuhu, both in botanical terms and in terms of smell, elemi is not thick and deep like familiar amber mixes. The overall scent of elemi can best be typified in perfume lingo as "terpenic", an aroma typified by fresh pine needles, clean, green with citrusy and coriander undertones. It's therefore not unusual to see it featured in the context of "pine" compositions or in masculine fragrances, as well as in incense blends.

Canarium Luzonicum

The clear yellow liquid has a thin rather than thick consistency and it surprises with its lemony "clean" aspects which are exotic, yet fresh. This is accountable to limonene (a prime lemon molecule) that comprises more than half of the fragrant constituents of the material make-up. The odor profile of elemi is akin to a dill pickle, with a peppery and fennel facet, discernible citrus piquancy, but less tart than expected from that reference. For those reasons elemi oil blends perfectly with notes that share this uplifting fresh quality within their bouquet, be it materials classified as "aromatic" (such as lavender, clary sage and rosemary) or those in the "resinous fresh" category (such as frankincense—which also shares a lemony top-note—and myrrh). It has long being used to extend citrus products thanks to its higher resistance to heat.

The elemi resinoid on the other hand has the spicy peppery and woody-grassy facets more pronounced making it pair perfectly with pepper, woods (patchouli and vetiver especially), and sweet grass, while its constituent elemicin is shared with nutmeg. Elemol is the molecule that gives it its characteristic "flavor."

 Elemi's use in embalming, found in sarcophagi buried in ancient tombs has been celebrated through the ages. The ancient Egyptians championed elemi in the intricate embalming process (alongside styrax, turpentine, benzoin, and other materials) to help the bodies retain their dryness and freshness throughout the centuries. Is the tale that the name derives from an ancient African tribal god whose name translates as "keeper of the spirit" relevant? It's a story steeped in mystery.

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica it was Pliny the Elder who first referenced a styptic medicine with the name "enhaemon," which contained "tears" of a gum substance from the olive tree of Arabia. After the Middle Ages the resin from the Boswellia frereana tree, a Somalian variant (Maydi) of the genus that gives as frankincense, was referred to as "elemi". Its inclusion in Coptic incense (i.e. the incense used by the Coptic Christian church of Egypt), helped the confusion, as elemi is frequently a participant in incense blends. Later, in the 18th century, when the exploration of new lands in the Americas was still going on, the resin derived from the genus Icica from Brazil was -again- called "elemi." 

Amyris elemifera

Today however when we refer to elemi it stands for the resinoid and the essential oil, a gum harvested from the tree Canarium Commune, Linn (N.O. Burseraceae). or Canarium Luzonicum which grows in the Philippines, both wild and cultivated. The Manila Canarium ovatum variety (the "pili" nut) is grown also for its skin-beneficial properties which European brands, Chanel among them, use in their skincare lines. Manila elemi is actually a trade name for the soft, fragrant exudates obtained from the trunk of the Canarium tree species which includes "pili." The gum is obtained by exudation of the trees: when the trunks of the trees get an incision resin flows from there, forming "tears," as the liquid solidifies when coming into contact with the air. The collected tears are then steam-distilled to get the essential oil or they are treated with volatile solvents to produce an elemi resinoid.

It is important not to confuse elemi from the Canarium Luzonicum tree from the oleoresin from the Amyris elemifera tree (also known as "torchwood"), the trunks of which exude a type of balsam (oleoresin) that contains elemic acids, liquid sesquiterpenes, and triterpenes such as α- and β-amyrin among other components. To differentiate we can briefly say that Amyris elemifera produces "Mexican elemi", whereas the Canarium Commune variety produces the "Manila elemi". The Amyris derived elemi essence has a sandalwood scent profile, woody balsamic, similar to other balsams, without the complexity of natural sandalwood, rather than citrusy terpenic. Essential oils containing caryophyllene, cadinene, and cadinol are extracted from Amyris balsamifera and Amyris elemifera. These are used in varnishes, perfumes, medicines, cosmetics, soaps, and incense.

Fragrances rich in elemi notes:

Biehl Parfumkinstwerke MB03
Byredo Chembur
Cerruti 1881 pour Homme
CB I Hate Perfume Violet Empire
Chanel Allure Homme Sport
Comme des Garcons Avignon
Davidoff Cool Water Deep
Dior Homme Sport
Diptyque Eau Duelle
Gucci by Gucci pour Homme
Guerlain L'instant pour Homme
Hermes Eau de Merveilles
Histoire des Parfums 1740 Marquis de Sade
Ineke Gilded Lily
Kenzo L'Eau par Kenzo Indigo Pour Homme
Lagerfeld Femme
Lalique White
Lorenzo Villoresi Incensi
Marc Jacobs Bang
Miller Harris La Fumee
Neela Vermeire Mohur
Neela Vermeire Trayee
Olfactive Studio Autoportrait
Olfactive studio Still Life
Roberto Cavalli Her
Victor & Rolf Spicebomb

[1] Cambridge. The C.W. Daniel Company Limited. 1998

Cool, Silken Fragrances: Like Snowcapped Trees in the Ringing Winter Air

In my mind there is a two-pronged approach to choosing personal fragrances for winter wearing: One is to go for traditional oriental elements, warm resins and balsams, rich florals and amber fragrance blends; creating contrast and invoking via perfume-magic warmer lands where the night is always warm and bodies radiate the heat of blood rushing to the skin's surface. Another, more unusual but perhaps more cherished because of it, is akin to homeopathy: inject a bit of cool silkiness to the routine, letting the outside cold enhance the silvery, metallic qualities of the perfume. Therefore throw in a mix of irises, artemisia, angelica and gentian essences, cool celebral notes, sour frankincense smoke that trails behind like the ashes off an extinguished censer...

photo by Johan Klovsjö

This is a capsule fragrance wardrobe for when the cooling touch of silk, with its shiny reflections reminiscent of drop of water on the icy pond, seems more sophisticated to you than the coziness of snuggly cashmere and wools.

GUERLAIN Aqua Allegoria Gentiana: The cool snowscapes of the Alps hide this plant, le gentiane. Its fresh and bracing properties are displayed in a simple composition that feels like icicles hanging from a thatched roof.

EDITIONS DE PARFUMS F.MALLE Angéliques sous la Pluie: Rained upon angelicas, a celestial gin and tonic on the rocks, refreshingly bitter with a cool edge of seeing snowcapped stone fences just across the road. 

RAMON MONEGAL Impossible Iris: Impossible Iris is like those beautiful raven-haired girls with big, sincere eyes that seem to engulf you and creamy, gorgeous skin that shines with the sheen of mother-of-pearl. Delicate, shy beginning with a cool touch, then comes wooly mimosa with its hint of warmth to smile into the proceedings, while the quiet, bookish woody tonality of the aftermath has a pencil shavings nuance.

TAUER Pentachord White: silvery, expansive imagescape. A fragrance of either the crack of dawn or the crepuscular drawing of a prolonged cool afternoon, the contrast between light and shadow. Orris, violet, vanilla, ambergris notes...

DIOR Homme: A fruity iris for men, a pretty boy with eyelashes a mile long to inflict "butterfly kisses" with. Supremely beautiful and sophisticated with a suprising note of....lipstick!

YSL Rive Gauche: Mysteriously "blue" floral, yet non- romantic English bone-china-pattern-style—it’s flinty! Absolutely classy, sparkling with aldehydes, like the spy who came in from the cold. 

ARMANI Bois d'Encens: A smoky incense that wafts from the forests on the cool wintery air, gloomy cedars silently silhouetted in the distance. The howl of wolves is heard from across the mountains.

GUERLAIN Après l'ondée: What is it that makes this so nostalgic, trembling with delight after the shower, which its name hints at? Is it its heliotrope soft powderiness married to melancholic iris and violet, like a smooth-faced Ophelia contemplating the joys of the river? No, it's probably what is more earthy: anise (and other herbs) give a glimpse of the sun forming a rainbow over still dewy petals. A 1906 classic.

Do you wear cool fragrances in wintertime? I'd love to hear your favorites. 

Fragrant Combinations to Lift the Winter Blues

It was a while ago I mentioned some fragrant combinations for autumn using Diptyque candles and room scents, promising to come back with more. Diptyque offers a small guide of scent combinations of its famous candles for scenting your space -a sort of olfactory landscaping- to create your own atmosphere, evoking a different mood than the one currently roaring and howling outside. Actually Diptyque have championed the art of scent layering since their very beginning. These below are of a different ilk than previously, less rust & gold and more a breath of fresh awakenings, like grains sprouting under the snow. But even if you're bent on the holiday spirit and enjoy the warming effluvium of the classic scents of the season, the new limited edition 2012 collection in its chic containers (below) brings on a smile to the lips.

via mercinewyork.com

Oliban and Sapin Dore are the very spirit of the holidays: the cool frankincense reminds us that there is a liturgical background to the festivities, while the warm and clean pine scent is complementing all the natural, outdoorsy smells of the season.

Gardenia and Santal are classic Diptyque candles and by combining the lush scent of the waxy-petaled white flower and the soft milky note of sandalwood you get a bridge from winter to spring, an optimistic reminder that good things lie awaiting.

 Verveine and Menthe Vert (i.e. lemon verbena and green mint) is a classic office and work desk combination that is mind-clearing. It helps me get my thoughts off the loom and gloom outside and into focusing to the projects I have to accomplish before dusk sets.

 Roses and Lierre when burnt together are delightfully reminiscent of an English garden by the river; the pink roses are dewy and trembling under the coolness of the approaching evening, the ivy leaves are reinforcing the vegetal, cool aspect.

 Maquis and Figuier is probably the combination I'm feeling most nostalgic about, reminiscent as it is of the scent of the Mediterranean countryside, filled with the burnished copper of immortelle, the sapling of the fig tree and its bittersweet smelling leaves. Summer will come, in the end.

Hug Me, Cashmere Wrap Fragrances for Wintertime

When the wind is howling outside, shaking the trees into a sweeping sound, and the logs in the fire crackle with gusto, perfume can play both a prophylactic role (reminiscent of its original purpose) and one of mental escapism. Winter-time brings on its own special slot for playing with fragrance, simply because we spend so much more time in close quarters noticing smells of the indoors (and on each other) and because the outdoors feels so quiet and silvery under the caps of snow reflecting the rays of a tentative sun.

Below is a capsule selection of tried and true warm, snuggly and devastatingly sexy fragrances to carry you into wintertime to make you feel like you're wrapped into your own portable hug.

punmiris.com

GUERLAIN Tonka Impériale: Wearing it on winter sweaters and scarfs (where it clings for days radiating seductively) is akin to getting caressed by a honey mink étole while smelling fine cigars in a salon de thé serving the most delicious almond pralines on panacotta.

CHANEL Bois des Iles: The most caressing sandalwood-rich floral feels like a cashmere wrap woven by angels. Beautifully supple, rich but restrained, it's a fragrance whose every drop denotes indoors entertaining in elegant interiors.

BOTTEGA VENETA Eau de Parfum: Subtly leathery goodness with warmth and coziness, underneath a fruity chypre mantle with a beating jasmine heart. What's not to like?

CARON Poivre: As warm as a fur coat, as arresting as pepper spray, a pas de deux on clove and carnation blossoms; or the scent of Cruella de Vil.

SERGE LUTENS Douce Amère: A bittersweet harmony of anise etched in opaline, singing in a warm contralto, melancholic and vanillic, borrowing something of the introspective mood of winter.

HERMES 24 Faubourg: A rich floriental resembling a Hollywood heroine dressed in a light beige trenchcoat, impecably coiffed hair under a heavy silk scarf of prestigious sign aure, wrapped on her precious little head, lipstick in deep coral, complexion in peaches and cream, driving a sports car on the dangerous slopes of Monaco under a heavy steel sky.

Which are your own "cashmere sweater" fragrances? I'd love to hear suggestions. 

Lady Gaga Fame: fragrance review

With the Fame fragrance we witness a grossly missed chance and a Shannon entropy in one: whereas we could have had a Maleficent or at the very least a Pippi Longstocking, we get Cinderella ("please make the good prince notice me"), all bets off in a mathematical variability into the consumer's collective unconscious. Fame by Lady Gaga operates on a false signal, emitting something else than expected, breaking the communication circuit in half (visual cues, olfactory profile) and redirecting half of the message into the void. No wonder the Gaga perfume is the no.1 best-seller at the local Sephora as of this moment; perfume briefs these days are directed with a slew of semiotics experts and communication analysts behind them.

Lady Gaga Lady gaga FAME

via fanpop.com

The official blurb mentions the structure being built on three main accords, instead of the classic fragrance pyramid: dark accord, sensual accord and light accord. The fragrance, though not at all unpleasant (I bet if it was issued by another less "controversial" celebrity, we wouldn't expect so much to begin with and might be pleasantly surprised), ultimately runs the gamut of predictability: Fame by Gaga begins fresh grape-berry-apricot with more sweetness than anticipated from such a menacing presentation (the bottle looks like it is caught in fangs or in the pliers of a lifting machine at some enchanted factory making human replicas, someplace, an idea reinforced by the commercial), segueing into a "clean" layer of "white flowers" we've smelled in our fabric softener and plug-in home fragrance.

There's even the parting hint of smokiness for the allusion to mystery, as if something pretty needs an injection of something else too to register as coming from the meat-dress wearing celebrity or it wouldn't fit at all.

The nifty detail of the black juice inside which doesn't stain clothes or skin, as it instantly vaporizes transparent, isn't totally new either: Boudicca Wode (and not Boedicea the Victorious as I had erroneously mentioned before!) had explored the path first with her blue-tinged eau de parfum.

On the whole: Color me unimpressed.

Cool artwork though by Steven Klein. Can't knock that.

Bertrand Duchaufour and the Enchanted Forest

Bertrand Duchaufour is the creator of a new perfume, called Enchanted Forest for the Vagabond Prince brand, the first perfume to focus on blackcurrant in a domineering and soli-fruit, so to speak, role. A perfume of the forest and one which celebrates the Kupala, a Slavic festive tradition, a homage to nature and the mysteries of the forest.

Enchanted Forest by *AlineMendes on deviantART

The perfumer explains: "The challenge was great: I had to magnify the raw material (blackcurrant), a material used very often in perfumery and sometimes overused inelegantly through notes of red fruits, and in this regard I made a sort of soliflore. Soliflores are generally constructed on floral bases such as jasmine, rose, tuberose, but for Enchanted Forest the intention was quite different… and I had the idea of working the blackcurrant throughout the structure (head, heart, bottom) of the perfume. To do this, I used no less than a blackcurrant CO2 (an extract obtained directly from the blackcurrant buds, which is free of solvent residues), an absolute of blackcurrant and two different blackcurrant bases, including one of my own creation, to build a sort of skeleton, a vertical structure on which the entire perfume would be built."

 The new perfume can be sampled through a sample opportunity that Fragrantica organizes on the page with a longer article by Duchaufour from which the above quote is taken.

Notes for The Enchanted Forest for The Vagabond Prince:
Top notes:
pink pepper, aldehydes, sweet orange (traces), flower cassis, blackcurrant leaf, hawthorn, effects of rum and wine, rosemary, davana.
Heart notes:
blackcurrant buds absolute (by LMR from Grasse), CO2 blackcurrant (by Floral Concept from Grasse), Russian coriander seed, honeysuckle, rose, carnation, vetiver
Base notes:
opoponax resinoid, Siam benzoin, amber, oakmoss, fir balsam absolute, Patchouli Purecoeur®, castoreum absolute, cedar notes, vanilla, musk

Hermes Jour d'Hermes: fragrance review & insights into fragrance creation

Things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other.
~Euclid

photo by AlberCAN (copyright 2012) for use on PerfumeShrine

By guest writer AlbertCAN

Simple elegance is often the hardest to grasp. The emphasis here, of course, lies in its sophistication: the fusion of ideas being so purposely concised and delicately tailored that the communication becomes deceptively simple. Ideas just float on their own merits, process gone and vanished. For years now, for instance, many have quipped that the great Anna Pavlova probably danced her famous “The Dying Swan” program as party entertainment, but judging by the technical brilliance, intricate grace and athletic poise displayed by prima ballerina Ulyana Lopatkina below I wouldn’t classify it as a simple dance: to even stand on pointe for nearly four minutes while delivering all the nuanced emotions? Not ever for the faint hearted.

I was pondering all these intricacies almost three weeks ago when I was introduced to Jour d'Hermès (2012), the latest feminine fragrance by master perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena, and when I was informed of the project scope I was very surprised by its seemingly effortless premise: a modern soft floral, radiance from dawn to dusk. No emphasis on particular notes. No PR blitz upon the initial launch. Boutique only until Spring 2013. All against the grain.

The name is also deceptively simple, another subtle risk. Jour d'Hermès (pronounced roughly as ‘joor dair-mess’), though perfectly fitting with the brand’s chosen theme for 2012—Gift Of Time, or Le temps devant soi—isn’t the most accessible name for non-francophones and does require a reasonable grasp of the language. The name does, on the other hand, complement the core theme* of Hermès perfectly: the land and the sky. Case in point? The two best-selling scarves: “Brides de Gala” (on the left) on saddlery and “Astrologie” (below right) on the zodiac constellations—of the land and the sky. Olfaction wise, since we already have the masculine Terre d'Hermès (2006) representing the earth, and since Ciel d'Hermès would have been too obvious, here we have Jour d'Hermès representing the other half of the universe—though I should point out that the above-mentioned names are slightly subversive, with la terre being a feminine word in place of a masculine fragrance and le jour being a masculine word in French. One might think little of the seemingly archaic French noun gender categorization, but I should point out that the name “Calèche” was originally chosen in part because it is a feminine word in French—la calèche. Still, I’m ahead of myself: more on that front later.

The fragrance is yet another intricacy in disguise: Jour d'Hermès opens with quite a tart grapefruit element (quelle surprise) followed immediately by a soft verdancy—all against a floral murmur. Long-time readers of Ellena’s olfactive works would also notice a fruity syntax to the mix, though purposely kept non-specific with a soft sensual mango bias as the fragrance wears on. (The master perfumer has mentioned his partiality to the scent of mango in his book “Journal d'un parfumeur”.) Then in comes the radiance and the scent deftly draws out a delicate array of flowers: sweet pea and gardenia most prominently, although I have also observed a quote of the translucence lifted from Vanille Galante (2009), the lilting orange blossom in Iris Ukiyoe (2010). Further, if one can excuse my impertinence: with the help of the IFRA-sanctioned ingredient label—and my humble training in perfumery—I can also deduce the following floral elements: lily of the valley, modern hybrid rose, tuberose, ylang ylang, jasmine—although these elements are utilized in such a quasi-deconstructed manner that Ellena the magician here only shows an whiff of the ideas. It’s a dawn-kissed, dewy garland—not a Floriade by any stretch of the imagination. The overall structure of the fragrance is kept clean and tailored; the diffusion pattern is built with a purpose; sillage modern, sensual and very long-lasting.

The contradiction of this maximizing minimalism is worth pondering here. This is a luminous floral built under and only under the aegis of our time: three decades ago this idea of floral barraging would have been a Maupassant Realism, as testified in “First” (1976) by Van Cleef & Apels, another Ellena creation; a mere decade ago J’Adore (1999) by Christian Dior with its coquettish charm fronted by the saccharine champaca and violet. Jour d'Hermès is unapologetically floral at heart but decidedly anti-FlowerBomb.

Which begs the question: how does Jean-Claude Ellena manage such sustained flurry of floralcy in flight without all the burdensome cliché of heft often associated with the genre? Without the help of gas chromatography (out of the respect of the master perfumer, really) I would offer a possible hypothesis after a careful examination of his interviews and writings.

I have already mentioned the use of sweet pea, which Ellena has devoted a spirited entry in his “Journal d'un parfumeur” (2011). My English translation of the passage in question offers a glimpse to his art.

                                                                                                       Cabris, Wednesday April 14, 2010
Sweet peas, when in bouquet, remind me of ruffled flamenco dresses. The flower has graceful petals and has the appearance of organdie. They do not have a determined smell, but a scent that hesitates between rose, orange blossom and Sweet William, with its touch of vanilla. I threw in seven components that seem necessary to sketch the smell. One, two, three attempts to balance the proportions, to which I added a carnation note to the fourth test to correct myself again. The fifth test seems appropriate. I have a sketch of smell with which I can start a perfume.

SWEET PEA (FIFTH DRAFT)
phenylethyl alcohol               200
Paradisone ®                      180
hydroxycitronellal                 50
Rhodinal                           30
acetyl isoeugenol                  15
orange blossom (abs colorless)     15
cis-3 hexenol                       5
phenylacetic aldehyde 50%           5
______________________________________
                                   500

Diluted at 5% in perfumery alcohol at 85°.

While it’s not certain whether Ellena adopted the exact sweet pea accord above for his latest feminine fragrance the olfactory essay is of interest. The accord is emblematic due to its hologramatic nature: the nuance of the gentle flora is evident, yet within there’s also a radiant magnolia (Paradisone), a splash of lily of the valley (hydroxycitronellal), a boutonnière of carnation (acetyl isoeugenol), a blade of fresh luminous verdancy (cis-3 hexenol) and a whiff of tartness (Rhodinal) for good measure—not to mention the orange blossom absolute and the frilly rosy touch from phenylethyl alcohol. As an avid gardener who has harvested his share of sweet peas I must say Ellena is shockingly spot-on with so few ingredients.

Within the same book Ellena’s thoughts on gardenia is even more sparse. Again my English translation:

Gardénia

aldehyde C-18 prunolide
styrallyl acetate
methyl anthranilate

For the scent of gardenia I prefer that of Chanel because it does not smell like the flower but happiness. The odour of gardenia is a drama between jasmine and tuberose.

Compared to the natural scent the gardenia accord above does not have the notorious mushroom lilt simply because of the absence of the tiglates. (The stryrallyl acetate, itself smelling like tart rhubarb, may have also given Jour d'Hermès the verdant tinge.) Yet what does the master perfumer meant when referring to “a drama between jasmine and tuberose”? Let’s break down the individual accords from the master perfumer:

Jasmine
benzyl acetate
Hedione
clove bud oil
indole
methyl anthranilate

Tuberose
aldehyde C-18 prunolide
methyl anthranilate
phenylethyl alcohol
benzyl salicylate

Thus elements from both are appearing in the gardenia accord, although our Elena Vosnaki has also made the following observation: "Methyl anthranilate (orange flower and ylang-ylang in low concentration, grape in high concentration) also produces very popular Schiff's Bases for a variety of floral effects, when added to aldehydes. No surprise in its being featured so much!"

Based on the info above I can deduce that Jour d'Hermès doesn't have the notes listed in part because the ‘notes’ are all connected together: sweet pea into magnolia, magnolia helping the orange blossom, orange blossom into tuberose, tuberose into gardenia. And certainly the Paradisone is known to create a radiant effect, as per both perfumer Arcadi Boix Camps and master perfumer Alberto Morillas. Under this manner Ellena, though clasping onto his aesthetics firmly, is to me also taking a page out of the notebook from old master perfumers of the 20th century such as Francis Fabron, despite obviously going after vastly different olfactory effects: very short but self-contained formulas with each 'note' sharing a set of chemicals so the elements are tightly woven as possible.

After all, what’s the point of naming all the notes in Jour d'Hermès when all the ingredients are synced to perform as one, in calibrated harmony?

I have mentioned that Jour d'Hermès is quite long-lasting, and much to my intrigue it works very well as a unisex fragrance. The use of the pricey muscone, itself a creamy modern musk, does help coaxing flowers to a more prolonged bloom...

(Hidden in the drydown I do very much suspect the use of honey absolute in conjunction with the musk, since the diffusion is such positively radiant. Oakmoss extract is also used, not at the forefront of the story by any stretch of the imagination but enough for me to see maybe classified by others as a modern chypre floral.)

...To test my hypothesis I ended up wearing Jour d'Hermès for two days straight, and on my skin it’s becomes a soft unisex fragrance. And given that Terre d'Hermès can work on the right woman perhaps the gender confusion among the two French nouns (le jour, la terre) isn’t so random after all: Ellena does believe the freedom in fragrance categorization among genders—perhaps the names are a reflection of that belief as well, that fragrance shouldn’t be gender assigned but completely up to the taste of the individual. And given the marketing scope of the latest offering I have good reasons to believe that the ray of light is being granted in the name of personal freedom, freedom in the name of simple elegance.

Hermès Jour d’Hermès is available in 50 and 85 ml Eau de Parfum, and in a 125 ml refill. It’s available now exclusively in Hermès boutiques and will go into wider distribution early next year.

*Editor (Elena's) Note: Jour d’Hermès was presented to the world in late November 2012 in Delphi, Greece (as seen here), the default spot of LIGHT worship. The god of the oracle, Apollo, has  no doubt shed a ray of sunshine on the perfumer and his works. It remains to be seen whether -to borrow a Nietzsche reference- the next fragrance, tackling the Dionysian this time, will be Nuit d’Hermès and presented in Arcadia. I'm throwing this to the mix as an idea to the Hellenophile people at  Hermès!

Photo, from top: Jour d'Hermès and “Journal d'un parfumeur”, photo taken/copyright by AlbertCAN; Uliana Lopatkina in “The Dying Swan”, photo via Tumblr; “Brides de Gala” scarf by Hermès; “Astrologie” scarf by Hermès; cover of “Journal d'un parfumeur” by Jean-Claude Ellena; Jour d'Hermès illustration via Hermes.com