Kenzo World Power: fragrance review

Maybe the most unexpected in the line Power by Kenzo is Kenzo World Power, a woody aromatic fragrance for women launched in 2019. Although the fragrance purports to be a relaxing essence, it possesses an even weirder combination than Kenzo Power Intense, in that it's both sugary and salty, retaining snippets of Reveal (Calvin Klein) and Olympea (Paco Rabanne) in equal measure and resulting in something new.

pic via nocibe

The overall impression in Kenzo World Power is quite unisex in that the cypress and salty notes recall something made for men in the woody or aquatic range of fragrances, yet the sweet almondy base notes with the backing up of strong aroma synthetics and woody essences speak of something aimed at both (all?) sexes.

The woody backdrop is reinforced with cooler weather and I think that cool weather brings out its better qualities, contrary to Reveal which is nicer in the heat. It's interesting that we come at the end with a scent that without deviating too much from the clean and abstract original, manages to smell odd and salty-sweet without claiming neither office, nor gym proclivities. It's quite a big presence in terms of sillage and lasting, well, power. I would very much doubt Kenzo World Power's potential as a date fragrance either, as it's not inoffensive, nor is it markedly within a certain frame of genre that would denote a specific "image" of one's self the way we tend to pick fragrances for romantic dates. It's definitely not meant for job interviews either. Maybe an introspective walk in the park or stay at home fragrance, then. Something that one enjoys alone. But one has to consequently wonder: will it sell enough not to be discontinued right away? It's a question to think about for sure.

The series of Kenzo World and its flanker fragrances has managed to bypass that by offering a very distinct visual presentation, literally "seeing you" in the sense of Lacan's "the mirror" concept. It's an interesting concept for all perfumes, because what is an artificial smell but an effort to transport images and feelings that we, as bipods, transpose to vision rather than more primal senses? Most fragrances heavily rely on visionary cues, from the perfume bottle design to the colour schemes chosen, right down to the advertising images that accompany their launch.

Overall, the presentation and visual emphasis for the Power series by Kenzo is more interesting than the fragrances themselves, still they merit sampling thanks to that rare correspondence of what we expect and what we get in the end. A mirror image of things rather than their true essence.

The perfumer behind this fragrance is Jerome Di Marino, contrary to the previous fragrances made by Francis Kurkjan. Top note is cypress; middle note is sea salt; base note is tonka bean. The fragrance circulates at an eau de parfum concentration.

Hermes Le Jardin de Monsieur Li: fragrance review

Musing by Guest Writer AlbertCAN

创新是什么? 可以吃吗？
What is innovation? Is it edible?
—Contemporary Mandarin humour*

和谐 (Trad. 和諧)
Pinyin: hé xié
1. harmonious; harmony
2. (euphemism) to censor

Of all the celebutantes the fragrance world has attributed to—Jicky, Madame Rochas, Misia, Monsieur de Givenchy, Liù, just to name a few—I have a particular affinity to Monsieur Li, an eponymous personality penned by Jean-Claude Ellena, the now-emeritus master perfumer for the iconic French design house Hermès.

As with everything in life, timing is everything: I have befriended Li in the spring of 2015, during an relocation to Vancouver’s historic Chinatown district, not only working as a financier to a heritage bank, but also living mere blocks away from Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden, the first Suzhou-style garden established outside of China and aptly named after the Father of the Nation in the Republic. Corner office befitting a financier? Check. Tasteful requisite objets d'art for a banking office? Of course. (Can you expect any less?) Ambient scent of choice, in the heart of Chinatown ? Hermès Le Jardin de Monsieur Li (2015).

At this juncture of the musing let’s get something out of the way: This Monsieur Li is a fictional character. And to any native Chinese speaker, this man is a gentle synecdoche to Mainland China . Please do not reduce this surname as an exercise in economy—any native Mandarin would instantly attribute this man as a Mainlander. (As opposed to Lee, who are most likely not.) In fact, under such context, this gentleman is somewhat of an everyday man, arguably China ’s cultural equivalent of Mr. Smith from North America, Monsieur Durand France . Given such logic, the name for this fragrance betrays a poetic subtext: A Garden of Everyman.

Hermès, Everyman? As I can hear the gentle murmur amongst you, dear audience. Ringing the affirmative is the answer. If I shall name one outstanding quality of Monsieur Li, incredible sociability comes to mind. Master perfumer Ellena has selected gentle note contrasts as the foundation of his jardin compositions, and this citrus aromatic is no exception. The garden here opens with kumquat, a beguiling citrus the Chinese often fondly savour during happier times—as confits during Lunar New Year, even serving along a variety of preserved foods from lotus to coconut, melon, ginger to the all important Chinese deities, as a mean to sweeten their tongues (lest them bad-mouth the mortals upon returning to celestial abodes for the holiday). Kumquat trees are also often a staple in Chinese and Vietnamese Lunar New Year celebrations, as they symbolize good fortune and prosperity. The inclusion of jasmine here, of course, is somewhat of a foregone conclusion, given the exalted status of the flora in China . Although, mind you, this jasmine is also resoundingly à propos in its political correctness, arguably not just because of the utilization of Hedione High Cis: I suspect any concrete conjuring of the real deal may be misinterpreted as a reminder of the Thou-Shall-Not-Be-Named failed coup d'état, with its moniker attributed possibly related to the flora in question.** White musk and mint round off the harmonious bouquet. The overall sillage persistently optimistic, the mellow diffusion a study of calibrated cheerfulness. The aromatic bone structure murmurs excellent breeding. Its gentility evident; its silken elegance aplenty.

Does Hermès Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, complete with its effortless joy, complement the Les Jardins series? Yes. Can this Monsieur Li potentially be a kissing cousin to another? That’s also a yes.

“Why are you choosing my signature fragrance as your office scent?” 

Soon after debuting my ambient choice a Financial Planner discreetly confronting me so. The issue? Her signature scent in question is Green Tea by Elizabeth Arden. That discussion eventually turning into a passionate side-by-side scent development mini symposium—amongst two financiers, no less. (The absurdity of that situation is completely lost upon me.)

Years after that rhapsodic episode the underlying issue is worth a sombre second thought here. This garden is not the Chinese of yore. Ellena can choose from a wide range of Chinese landmarks—many of which UNESCO certified to boot—yet this isn’t the case. The aromatic elements mentioned are of Chinese origin, yet under different contexts they can also be interpreted in a very modern fashion. In fact, this fragrance is decidedly modern—androgynous, versatile—and there’s a delicate sexual fluidity underneath its aromatic pulse. (A scent referencing a gender, however unisex, cannot be devoid of sexuality altogether, no?) Likewise, the garden of Li is neither composed of imperial peonies nor sandalwood. Simply put, this is for Modern China, period.

Style wise I actually consider this fragrance to be in complete alignment with Rhythm of China (2007), the first ever Chinese-themed Hermès silk scarf designed by a Chinese artist. Just look at it. There’s an air of electricity permeating throughout. Perhaps the traffic lights during the day, or is it neon lights by night—perhaps both? And yet, wrapping it around a Kelly or a Birkin bag, or simply wearing it as is, the jolt transforms into something else, something decorative. There’s something harmonious about such ambiguity.

It’s no accident that we have referenced the concept of harmony, or hé xié in Mandarin, several times throughout this article. While it’s an important principle of design in its own right, harmony is no trifle matter within contemporary Chinese culture. I am going to reference Wikipedia here, since it succinctly summarizes the heart of this matter:

The "Socialist Harmonious Society" concept represents a new direction of Chinese communist leadership that signified the transition between Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao. Although on the surface, "socialist harmonious society" seems benign, many scholars believe that General Secretary Hu has a vision for a deeper reform of the political system in China . In addition, the idea of scientific development stresses on scientific discovery and technological advance, engines for sustainable growth in the long run. Sustainable growth is a concept in macroeconomics that signifies GDP at potential (i.e. all that is produced is being consumed and there is no cyclical unemployment) for years to come.

In addition, the Socialist Harmonious Society concept was a response to the problem of social inequality/ wealth gap, which if not dealt with immediately, could lead to social unrest and even turmoil. A key reason contributing to a widening wealth gap was social injustice, which features collusion between entrepreneurs and officials. Through collusion, entrepreneurs were able to buy land from farmers and then sell it at high prices. Furthermore, with the protection of local officials, private coal mine owners ignored safety regulations to cut production costs. As a result, thousands of miners are killed in accidents.

Since the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989, the leadership has been extremely sensitive about maintaining stability. General Secretary Hu's focus on stability and openness is the central model addressed in the book The J Curve: A New Way to Understand Why Nations Rise and Fall by Ian Bremmer. According to Bremmer, the Chinese government is trying carefully to avoid instability by jumping from a controlled social environment on one end to complete openness on the other. The "J Curve" model is applicable to the political development of most nations and presents a choice between stability and openness. The concept of "Socialist Harmonious Society" is said to include both elements of the model. Hence, Hu's "socialist harmonious society" has an underlying message of establishing political reform as well as safeguarding social justice and equality.***

So how does this affect the aesthetics of Monsieur Li? Further notation from the same article:

While initially the public's reaction to the idea was positive, over the years "Harmonious Society" has emerged as a euphemism for "stability at all costs," and has garnered its share of critics. The government often uses "Harmonious Society" to justify the suppression of dissent and the tight control on information in China . Some social commentators have pointed out the irony that in building a "harmonious society" the country has become less just, less equal, and less fair. Meanwhile, some of Hu's critics say that application of the "Socialist Harmonious Society" concept has resulted in anything but itself. China scholar Cheng Li said that Hu's failure in implementing the Socialist Harmonious Society program has been his "gravest pitfall" during his tenure. Critics cite the increased wealth gap, higher internal security budgets, and unprecedented corruption in state-owned industries as evidence that Socialist Harmonious Society has failed in practice.

The term "River crab" (Chinese: 河蟹; pinyin: héxiè) has been adopted as internet slang in Mainland China in reference to Internet censorship. The word river crab sounds similar to the word "harmonious" in Mandarin Chinese. In addition, the word "harmonious" can itself also be the placeholder verb for "to censor", most often referring to posts on a forum that have been deleted because of its unacceptable content, or the censorship of stories reporting sensitive issues in the press. Something that has been censored in this manner is often referred to as having been "harmonized" (被和谐了).***

Yet I have digressed. Let’s talk corporate bottom line, shall me?

Ellena, no matter how much of an exalted figure in perfumery, could not afford to miss boat here. Especially after Un Jardin après la Mousson (2008). And with this Chinese garden being one of his swan songs, a failure to launch would have been disastrous. This is really not the time to experiment, to innovate.

Traditional China might sound romantic to some, but that crowd has never been the core of the Hermès growth—it’s the nouveau riche that has kept the financial engine humming.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Ellena’s stature in perfumery is reassuringly beyond reproach. At this same time, as much as we would like to think that the Mida’s touch is in spades, this launch is stacking up to be much too expensive for a risk. What it’s all said and done, harmony reigns supreme.

Now I am really not in a position to surmise development details of the Hermès Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, though I often wonder if its lack of assertion ends up serving as a footnote on the general zeitgeist of Modern China, however breath-taking its metamorphosis may be.

Often when I visit this Chinese garden, I wonder what my friend Monsieur Li looks like. Willowy of course, impeccably decked in Hermès no doubt. Graciously open-minded yes, perhaps generous to a fault. Good looking, yet with a somewhat forgetful ordinarity about his charm. However personable he may be, his words are diplomatic, action always calibrated. I think there’s a fluidity in his way, but I think he keeps it out of joint. Never putting his heart on his sleeves, never speaking his mind directly to anyone.

Hermès Le Jardin de Monsieur Li is a Citrus Aromatic fragrance for woman and men, and available in select Hermès boutiques and Point of Sales worldwide.

This fragrance review is based on a sample personally purchased by the writer in 2015 at an Hermès boutique.

Photos by Hermès and Wikipedia Common.

* Any arbitrary concept can be substituted into this modern sarcasm, to denote the futility of a particular idea—especially since sustenance is the cornerstone of Chinese culture.

** I’m absolutely in no position to comment on anything related to this matter. Googling “jasmine contraband New York Times” shall suffice—should your region allows so.

*** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harmonious_Society

Perfume Term Definition: Aromatic & Herbaceous

Among perfume terms which are used to describe fragrances some are more confusing than others: what defines a dry scent, what is a balsamic smell and, come to think of it, is aromatic what immediately leaps to mind? One might be inclined to think the descriptor denotes something "having an aroma" or something to do with scent in general, as in "aromatherapy". Yet, in perfumery jargon the term "aromatic" means something more precisely defined.

lavender field in Luberon, South of France

 Strictly speaking, the chemical definition relates aromatic to materials rich in benzene, a conjugated cyclic carbon compound found in organic matter (also known as arene). Penhaligon's Douro is an example, if you need to put a smell to a name. Aromatic in layman speak refers to smells that have a rustic scent, with a certain freshness, often in relation to herbal notes; some sources correlate it even to some balsams and resins. "Aren't balsams and resins generally sweetish, though?", you ask.
You see, the term 'aromatic' was originally assigned before the physical mechanism determining aromaticity was discovered, and was derived from the fact that many of the benzene hydrocarbon compounds have a sweet scent in themselves. It's safe to say that in perfumery parlance aromatic has gradually gained a specific nuance, that of agrestic, green-herbal and with a camphorous hint, like that in pure lavender essence. The character is vivid, assertive, lively and fresh, one of mental clarity, invigoration and awareness; associations prominently exploited by functional perfumery (i.e. the industry catering for scented functional products instead of fine fragrances for oneself).
In fine fragrance this lively, refreshing ambience is wonderfully caught in Baime by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier. Aromatic notes are therefore not bitter like oakmoss, but not typically syrupy sweet either! Smell the petrol-like opening of Guerlain's Jicky, rich in lavender buttressed by fresh bergamot and you're there (the fragrance soon acquires warmer, naughtier characteristics nevertheless which go beyond the aromatic).

 The herbaceous term -in differentiation of "woody" as in botany- is more of a descriptor than a proper classification: it encompasses such frequent perfumery materials as chamomile, lavender, rosemary, thyme, mint, spearmint, sage, clary sage and even celery, as well as marjoram, oregano and basil. Obviously the materials themselves derive from a herbal plant source, so the term isn't as confusing.
Most people familiar with dabbling in food-making like me, especially ethnic cuisines, know them from their kitchen cabinet. Whenever I cook with these herbs (and it is often, accounted by my Mediterranean origins) I find myself engrossed and enraptured by this humble and humbling splendor of nature; these small stems and leaves are so rich in nuance, so colorful in painting a verdant countryside basking under a benevolent sun, so childlike and at the same time old-wise that I can't but feel overwhelmed by the majestic force of the natural world all over again, like when I was but a mere toddler.

These herbaceous materials couple very well with citruses and spices, lending themselves to both unisex and masculine perfumery, without nevertheless eschewing feminine fragrances ~though the "pure" specimens are rare there, such as Granville by Dior's more upscale private line La Collection Couturier Parfumeur or Donna Karan's Essence Lavender.

Lavender, a par excellence aromatic substance, is a very common ingredient in perfumery, thanks to its linalool freshness and its pleasant association with the outdoors and cleanliness; it's no accident that lavender forms one of the three pillars of the "fougère"/fern family (term explained here). It's therefore natural that ferny smells should be coupled with lavender and other aromatic materials: the two have overlapping facets. This is why you will often see the term "aromatic fougère" brandished in masculine fragrances: this sub-classification within the fougère group indicates a heavier use of refreshing herbal notes in the formula providing a sense of chillness, of immediate freshness, especially since most herbal, aromatic notes are effervescent, i.e. "top notes" in terms of the scent's evaporation arc. Yves Saint Laurent Rive Gauche pour Homme is a perfect example of the genre .

The aromatic descriptor can feature as a supporting player to other stories: In Clinique's Wrappings for instance the aromatic top beautifully highlights the juniper wood of the base. Herbaceous accents can put a classic, cologne-like, aromatic character to a composition, due to association with the traditional Eau de Cologne which fuses herbal notes with hesperidia to render a sharp, tonic scent. The 4711 brand has even created modern variations on the theme in recent years: 4711 Acqua Colonia Lavender & Thyme, 4711 Acqua Colonia Juniper Berry & Marjoram, 4711 Acqua Colonia Melissa & Verbena.
They can also contrast beautifully with a resinous note, like in Encens et Lavande by Serge Lutens where the herbaceous brightness of lavender provides the light in the dusk of the incense. Eau de Jatamansi by L'Artisan Parfumeur is a more straight-forward specimen, where the resinous spikenard gains freshness through the reinforcement of herbaceous accents. The herbaceous facet of rose oxides is played to great effect in Calandre by Paco Rabanne, where the freshness of the composition is thus enhanced effectively.

 For all it's worth, perhaps showcased by the meaning of context above, not all herbs provide purely herbaceous/aromatic notes in perfumery: for example oregano, tarragon (to a lesser degree), basil and marjoram can be described as quasi-spicy, thanks to their rich ratio in piquant molecules which tingle the nostrils, much like the exotic dried spices in the kitchen cabinet do, albeit with a slightly different nuance. Even sage has a slightly peppery flavor. Conversely, although Chinese star anise is routinely considered a spice, its high ratio in anethole (the molecule also present in anise and dill) gives it a herbaceous edge.
Pronouncing a judgment on a fragrance that relies heavily upon those elements one might be technically describing a "herbaceous", but the perceived effect could be spicy. Manifesto by Isabella Rosellini for instance relies on the tingling note of basil, a material rich in eugenol (much like cloves), which immediately translates as "spicy" to one's mind. Pronouncing Manifesto therefore as a spicy scent isn't far from the truth, no matter the source of the effect lies in the garden rather than the Indian market. As in everything when attempting to communicate thoughts, it's important to distinguish whether one speaks from a scholarly or a purely personal perception point of view.

pics via nicenfunny.com and aromablog.ru

Annick Goutal Nuit Etoilee: new fragrance

When I was pairing Van Gogh's famous painting Nuit Etoilée with my review of Annick Goutal's idiosyncratic Eau du Fier the other day, I must have been in daydreamig mode. The mind does tend to work this way*. But it was possibly more than just subliminal.

I had received information that the next fragrance by the French brand (seeking wider distribution currently at the Middle East as per Brigitte Taitinger, after succesfully solving problems with the American distribution) is also called Nuit Etoilée, you see.

Nuit Étoilée is a new unisex scent offered by the Annick Goutal fragrance line; a fresh, aromatic spicy-woody scent in blue-tinged bottles for him and for her (the scent is abslutely the same in both declinations, much like with all the rest of the line). The perfume was inspired by the wildness of nature and the coolness of dusk.  This nightfall, this starry night began out of an image Camille had stored at the little laboratory the French brand has in Paris: "La nuit étoilée" de JF. Millet (1855) on a postcard that had been lurking under the papers for two or three years, hence the bluish tint of the flacon. Isabelle Doyen, the perfumer, believes this is how things work: You're inquisitive, you see things, you absorb them and then they come out in your work, almost by chance. Nuit Étoilée by parfums Annick Goutal is fresh with hints of sweetness as well as peppermint accents on the top while unfolding woodier aspects upon drying down.

The upcoming Nuit Étoilée by parfums Annick Goutal will launch in April 2012

*The name also immediately reminds me of Baccarat's one-time fragrance edition Une Nuit Étoilée au Bengal.

Hermes Terre d'Hermes Parfum: fragrance review

In evaluating how Terre d'Hermès has been a resounding commercial success, but also a firm winner on the top lists of best fragrances on discerning consumers boards such as Basenotes for a couple of years consecutively, it is not difficult to understand its appeal and range of qualities that accounted for its popularity, earning it a newly fledged version named Terre d'Hermès Parfum.

The refreshing overture, the unusual, intellectual, mineral facets in its core and the great radiance of its woody bottom (accounted by IsoE Super, more on which on this article) are the cornerstones on which its reputation has been cemented.

Extrait de Parfum pour Homme is not the most usual concentration when one thinks about masculine fragrances. In fact the American generic term "cologne" for masculine scents is not without some sort of reasoning behind it: It seems that most men are accustomed to resort to splashes of scented eau on their neck after a good, close shave or a shower, and additionally they have been conditioned to believe that a men's fragrance should be light and not really perceptible beyond a certain number of paces. The belief has been a remnant of a patriachal code of conduct of the first half of the 20th century, in which men customarily earned the daily bread, read the newspaper while the wife put the babies to sleep and never wore anything remotely removed from lavender water, hesperidic eaux or aromatic concoctions that didn't leave any doubt to which team they were playing for.
Times have changed, new fathers pay more attention to their families, while some opt out of families in the traditional sense altogether, and the market has had to conform. Companies have realised that there is a new sophistication in the air, what with the emergence of the new metrosexual man, but also with the newly rediscovered ~for the Western world~ pleasure of reaping the benefits of aromatics and essences for the benefit oneself: A new audience that laps up niche offerings and ooohs and aaaahs at Pierre Montale's offerings or Amouage's luxurious attars is ready for a proposition that goes against the grain: Namely not an Eau de Parfum (in itself also a rare phenomenon in the universe of masculine fragrances) but an Extrait de Parfum, aka pure parfum! Thus Guerlain is offering their excellent Habit Rouge Extrait, Ormonde Jayne and Clive Christian are not far behind with their own, but it is Hermès that just launched a new version of their best-selling 2006's Terre d'Hermès in parfum concentration which will reign in terms of awareness and recognisability, I bet.

Terre d’Hermès Parfum explores a denser “Terre” (earth) than the original eau de toilette which married the skies above with the earth below. An intense concentration surely, yet not just ‘an intense version of Terre d’Hermès’ specifies Jean-Claude Ellena, but rather a rewriting that ‘amplifies the concept, and ‘heightens the contrasts’. Ellena has intensified the mineral-flint facets, and reinforced benzoin’s role resulting in a more bottom-heavy composition which nevertheless isn't far removed from the original. In the opening, shiso’s green, minty accents awaken the citrus tonalities a bit more perceptively. while the increased cedar allied to mossy notes tilt the composition from the aromatic hesperidic to the woody chypre; one of easy elegance. Still the experimentation in parfum strength seems like a studious exercise in concept more than practice, because the original had plenty of tenacity and diffusion already and its depths did not easily lend into a very intricate fugue treatment but more to a graceful and easy-paced minuet.

The spray bottle design is so similar, almost identical (well, slightly squarer) to the original Terre d'Hermès that one might dismiss it and think it's the standard product: At least I did! It was with the greatest surprise that I was gently guided at the boutique towards it, by a most graceful and passionate assistant who nodded his head sagely, insisting it's indeed the parfum. Its geometrical, graceful contours and big size belie its unusual concentration: At 75ml/2.5oz it's a LOT of parfum to last you through several months even if used every day! Tenacity, sillage and evolution on both blotter and skin are excellent, testament to the great technical merit of the reworked composition. Perhaps the only gripe could be the price which is unusually low for a parfum concentration, about half of what is asked for the similar products in the feminine range at Hermès. But I am hypothesizing that the masterplan behind this marketing move was that men are practical creatures when it comes to their grooming products and don't have the madly voracious eye that women have in view of luxury, so a reasonable approach might work better with them. At any rate, at those prices and for such potency and tenacity, it's a bargain; assuming you already like the original Terre d'Hermès of course and would like to complete your collection.

Notes for Terre d'Hermes Parfum:

Top: Orange, shiso, grapefruit, pepper
Heart: Flint, mineral notes, geranium leaves
Base: Woody Notes, oak Moss, vetiver, patchouli, benzoin

Available at boutique Hermès and soon in stores.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Interview with master perfumer Jean Claude Ellena

Photo of Jean Cocteau by irving Penn 1950. Pic of bottle via sfilate.it

Polo Modern Reserve by Ralph Lauren: fragrance review & comparison

~by guest writer Mike Perez

Wood. Pine. Evergreen. The Christmas season 2008 has arrived (is it just me, or is the entire fall/winter season just a blur!?) and the green/wood smell of a fresh Christmas tree is one of my favorite smells. In Miami, I can’t walk into a snow covered forest and smell the trees – so the smell of a tree or wreath filling my home is as close as I can get to the real thing.
I’ve looked diligently, for fragrances that smell like this: Fou d’Absinthe by L’Artisan Parfumeur recreates it nicely, alongside a generous helping of boozy absinthe; Aqua Allegoria Winter Delice by Guerlain smells just like a stiff / dried-out Christmas wreath (pine cones, twigs, dried holly berries) folded into a gingerbread cake accord with a resinous incense base.
I asked someone on Basenotes for a recommendation, and they mentioned Polo by Ralph Lauren.
Polo and I never really got along. Maybe because it was so easy to hate. Back in the 80’s I smelled this scent on just about every single male, in my junior high school locker room. Its irreverent wood/pine accord is unmistakably strong and diffuses in the air quickly…I always felt that it’s a ‘male’ Poison.
Now older, I realize how many colognoisseurs respect and admire Polo as a classic men’s masculine. I softened to the idea of owning it and even tracked some vintage (aerosol EdT) bottles of it on Ebay once – but I never bought a bottle.

Now Ralph Lauren has released Polo Modern Reserve, their 30th Anniversary Edition, created by the very same perfumer responsible for original Polo, Carlos Benaim. The original Polo has NOT been discontinued – rather they both are available.
It’s confusing, since both share the same bottle color, shape, cap, gold lettering and logo – the only difference is the new scent says ‘Modern Reserve’ on the front of the bottle.
When I sampled it I noticed a much more spicy (almost soapy) top note that isn’t harsh at all. Less resinous. But not ‘typical’ or ‘fresh’ (thank goodness). The scent evolves quickly through a few stages and one could easily miss them if you’re not paying attention: soapy basil; spice; a hint of leather and/or birch tar; the tiniest bit of smoky resin (myrrh?); and then: the vintage smell of Polo. The sharpness and piercing effect of the notes has been softened (the tobacco is gone). I, personally, prefer this change. The original always smelled less like something in nature (animal, plant) and more like a manufactured ‘smell’ of green foliage, woods and the outdoors. It suffered for this: It was lumped into the bargain fragrance category (along with other outstanding masculines like Paco Rabanne Pour Homme, Aramis and the discontinued [prior to reformulation/ vintage] Brut). When so many other products (hand soap, dishwashing liquid, carpet cleaner) are scented like this too, it’s no surprise many have a knee-jerk aversion to it. Maybe this is why Ralph Lauren decided to re-brand, re-bottle and reformulate it?
Me, I’m impressed: This new edition impresses me without cheapening the quality of the original scent. It highlights all of the lovely facets while it simultaneously plays down those less-than-friendly parts with a more balanced vetiver/leather base. It also, just like the original, lasts hours and hours! Which, I’ve come to learn, is what many men look for in their fragrances. {Stay tuned for a post on longevity, here on Perfume Shrine, soon}.

Does it smell like a Christmas tree? No. But, then again, it doesn’t smell like a polo field either. However a bottle, along with a copy of the scratch-and-sniff book ‘The Smell of Christmas’, underneath my Christmas tree might be just do the trick! :)

Notes for Polo Modern Reserve:
Top: Cardamom C02*, Fresh-cut Basil, Pimento Berry.
Heart: Vetyver-leather, liquid Jasmine, precious Myrrh Incense.
Bottom: Humidor Wood, Patchouli, Sueded Leather.

Prices: $62.50 / 120 ml bottle or $200 for 240 ml (limited edition, only 3,500 gold lettering bottles produced, in a numbered wooden box). Available at major department stores and http://www.ralphlauren.com/



*CO2 extraction or supercritical carbon dioxide is an increasingly popular solvent for extracting volatile oils and fragrance compounds from various raw materials used in perfumery, due to the relatively low critical temperature and reactivity of CO2 which diminishes damage or denaturing (otherwise the materials' odour would be altered).



Clip originally uploaded by Modetopiamodel on Youtube. Pics of bottle and polo player Nacho Figueras provided by MikePerez.

Sous le Vent by Guerlain: fragrance review (vintage vs.re-issue)

"Funny business, a woman's career. The things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them when you get back to being a woman." The apothecary splash bottle of Sous le Vent by Guerlain resting atop my dresser with its black, disk-shaped label with gold lettering encircling it, makes me think of the logos of old cinematic companies long defunct starring dramatic heroines with high cheekbones hissing deathly lines clad in impeccable tweeds or gala-time smooth silks. Betty Davies in "All About Eve" comes to my mind as she utters those lines, her character in stark contrast to the outwardly maudlin yet steel-hearted assistant-cum-antagonist Eve Harrington.

Although a literal translation would indicate "in the wind", Sous le Vent is French for "leeward" after the name of the tropical Leeward Isles of the lesser Antilles in the Caribbean: indeed the islands are divided into Windward and Leeward groups. Many among those "greener than a dream" isles were colonised by the French, accounting for an interesting, non-coincidental analogy ~the fruit of the Americas which has been Frenchified into Créole. Sous le Vent was composed by Jacques Guerlain for Joséphine Baker in 1933, according to the charming pamphlet provided by the boutique, as a pick-me up for applying after her notorious dance performances in which she often appeared in nothing more than an all too brief skirt made out of bananas on a string. Strutting her proud gazelle frame in the streets of Paris with a pet leopard in tow made everyone forget about Freda Josephine McDonald's humble St.Louis, Missouri birthplace and her vaudeville beginnings, evoking instead the glamourised image of a jungle animal: fierce, supple, ready to leap! And long before Angelina Jolie and Mia Farrow, she had adopted her own Rainbow Tribe: 12 multi-ethnic orphans, proving that titillation of the public and activism aren't mutually exclusive.

It is of interest to note in the iconography of Guerlain print material on their 20s and 30s scents that Sous Le Vent was featured in characteristic illustrations in the "Are you her type" series that included Mitsouko, Vol de Nuit , Liù and Shalimar, indicating that its eclipse among the classics in subsequent years was not due to a lack of intent. Les garçonnes were its natural audience but the ravages of WWII brought other sensibilities to the fore making an angular androgyne scent antithetical to the femme totemism of the new epoch in which the purring, slightly breathless tones of Marilyn Monroe caressed weary ears. It took Guerlain decades to re-issue it; finally a propos the refurbishing of the 68 Champs Elysées flagship store it was the second one to join the legacy collection affectionally called "il était une fois" (=once upon a time) in 2006 after Véga.

I am in the lucky position to be able to compare an older batch of extrait de parfum with my own bottle of the re-issued juice, and although Luca Turin in his latest book claims that the new is very different from his recollection questioning whether it is his memory or Guerlain's "that is at fault", I can attest that the two are certainly not dramatically different. Being a favourite of the black Venus of the merry times between two world wars, should give us a hint that Sous le Vent is a strong-minded affair of great sophistication and caliber. Difficult to wear as a scent to seduce or invite people to come and linger closer due to its acquiline nature, but very fitting as an unconscious weapon for a woman about to close a difficult business deal, embark on a divorce case or hire a professional assassin. It transpires strength! To that effect the vintage parfum offers rich verdancy, a mollified fond de coeur that is perhaps justified by the very nature of the more concentrated, less top-note-heavy coumpound needed for making the extrait or the diminuation of the effervescent citrus top notes. The modern eau de toilette is a little brighter, a little more streamlined and surprisingly a little sweeter in its final stages, yet quite excellent, making it a scent that always puts me in an energetic good mood wherever I apply it lavinshly -because it is alas rather fleeting- from the bottle.

Technically a chypre, yet poised between that and an aromatic fougère* to me, Sous le Vent bears no great relation to the mysterious guiles of Guerlain's Mitsouko but instead harkens back to the original inspiration behind it, Chypre de Coty, but also to another Guerlain thoroughbred ~Jicky (especially on what concerns the aromatic facet of lavender in the latter's eau de toilette concentration). Sous le Vent is both greener and fresher than Mitsouko and Jicky nevertheless, as it eschews the obvious animalic leapings yet retains the cinnamon/clove accent which will later be found in the fantastically "dirty" and underappreciated Eau d'Hermès. All the while however the piquancy that makes Coty's iconic oeuvre as well as Jicky so compelling is unmistakeably there.

Sous le Vent starts with a rush of subtly medicinal top notes of herbs that smell like lavender, rosemary and tarragon, a full spectrum of Provençal aromata. A tart bergamot note along with what seems like bitterly green galbanum skyrocket the scent into the territory of freshness and a smart "clean". Its next stage encompasses dry accords, soon mollified by the heart chord of a classic chypre composition of dusty moss with the sweet tonality of generous flowers that evoke the banana fruit: ylang ylang notably and jasmine sambac. In the final stages I seem to perceive the dusky foliage of patchouli.

Potent and assertive thought it first appears to be, a take-no-prisoners affair for a lady who was known to dance with only a skirt of bananas on, leaving her country for France and being idolized by all social strata, it screams of individualism and élan; yet strangely Sous le Vent, especially the gangly new version, doesn't invoke the scandalising side of Josephine nor her exuberant nature. Complex and elusive, it is certainly not an easy option for today’s women's sensibilities; it is rather too cerebral, too intelligent for its own good, not sexy enough. These qualities however would make it a wonderful masculine addition to a cocky fellow's repertoire. This travel back into more glamorous and individual times is worth the price of admission. Wear it if you are really interesting as a person, it will only enhance that quality.

Notes for Sous le Vent:
Top: bergamot, lavender, tarragon
Middle: jasmine, carnation, green notes
Base: iris, foresty notes, woody notes

The vintage parfum can be found on Ebay from time to time. The current re-issue in Eau de Toilette concentration is part of the Il était une fois collection exclusively sold at boutiques Guerlain and the éspace Guerlain at Bergdorf Goodman, housed in an apothecary style cylindrical bottle of 125ml with a gold thread securing a seal on the cap.

A sample of the modern re-issue will be given to a random lucky reader!

*Fougère is a classic olfactory family -mainly of masculine scents- that relies on a chord of lavender-coumarin-oakmoss.

Pic of Sous le Vent advertisement courtesy of femina.fr
Pic of Josephine Baker costumed for the Danse banane from the Folies Bergère production Un Vent de Folie in Paris (1927) courtesy of Wikimedia commons.