Cartier Panthere and Cartier La Panthere: fragrance review & comparison of vintage vs. modern edition

Reading there are two editions, one old, one new, by Cartier with the emblematic panther in the name, one is faced with an embarrassment of riches. The good news is that perfumer Mathilde Laurent' style is vibrant, luminous, recognizable in the newer incarnation, La Panthère. The bad news (if that is considered bad in itself) is that it bears no copy-paste relation to the previous fragrance,  Cartier  Panthère, launched in 1986 and circulating well into the 1990s to be discontinued later on.

While the older Panthère is a ripe and fruity-saturated perfume which is recalling a trend of the 1980s and mid-90s (and bears a knowing kinship to the later Champagne/Yvresse by Sophia Grojsman with its fruit-liquor density, I always thought, as well as winking to Dior Poison), the newer La Panthère is a musky floral with a healthy dose of oakmoss felt in the base, which gains life on the skin, rather than on the paper blotter on which it is presented in perfumeries. Indeed to judge it by merely its effect on paper would be to misunderstand it.

I like what I smell on a batch of the older, Alberto Morillas composed Panthère which I received through a split from a bona fide collector. My own small bottle from 1991 was in a ramschackle state, due to it being kept on a dresser for the better part of that decade. The little remaining inside had become a thickish goo which muddled all notes together. So jogging my memory was necessary. The rather significant amount I ordered proves that my former instincts are correct.

The floral notes (tuberose amongst them) are so honeyed and dense (and warmed up by civet notes) that they gain an overripe fruitiness, reminiscent of grappa spirits. The resinous qualities have an aldehydic brilliance to them and a tenacity which has both influential wake (you sniff this from time to time on yourself) and good lasting power, either on skin or on clothes. It's a perfume that seems out of joint with the modern sensibilities in a way, yet like 24 Faubourg it doesn't smell really retro, just mature and "full." Contrary to 24 Faubourg, nevertheless, the older Panthère's aura is less formal and a little more playful, at least to me.

In contrast the newer 2014 La Panthère (differentiated both by bottle and by the article "La" [sic], i.e. "the" before the animal-emblem) spells modern sensibilities galore, yet done in a very tasteful way. Much like Baiser Vole (which let it be noted I liked a lot) was Laurent's take on one of the mega-trends of recent perfumery, that is, the gently powdery floral, here in La Panthère takes some of the tricks of the illusionist, making you see fruit (fresh, tart, like pear liqueur, greenish too, a touch of budding gardenias) while the floral bouquet develops beyond any doubt and gains radiance by the hour. The underscoring by musks fortunately doesn't tilt the perfume into laundry detergent territory, as many fear due to the abundance of musk molecules in functional products used for cleaning and drying our clothes due to their hydrophobic properties (which ensure a lasting impression).

Specifically Musk ketone in the base, which smells warm, inviting, pulsating from the skin, forms an aura that warms up with the heat of the body. Although previously restricted and disappearing from perfumes, it is re-introduced and utilized by some (but not all!) perfume companies and perfume labs. It is exactly its thermoregulating properties which are lost on the blotter, so I advice giving it some time to evolve on the warmth of someone living. The mossy notes brings the composition closer to something which indeed has a 1980s kin than anything. Yet it still remains contemporary, youthful, sparkling with life, a modern chypre. One of the better releases so far.

I really like the concave bottle which is carved from the inside to hold the juice into the cavity formed by the panther's head. In all sincerity I found the commercial (and the overly "meaningful" gaze of the model) yawn-inducing. But your mileage may vary.

Available at major department stores internationally.

Cartier L'Heure Vertueuse: new fragrance

Mathilde Laurent, head perfumer at Cartier since 2006, introduces L'Heure Vertueuse (the virtuous hour), another installment in Les Heures de Parfum collection for connoisseurs issued by the acclaimed jewelry house in tall architectural bottles with latin numbers designed like a somber clock. For this one, representing three o'clock in the morning,  "it is time to walk in a magical garden, to breathe the enchanting fragrances of miraculous plants. A unique moment, an aromatic caress of fresh, gentle green notes."

Mathilde further specifies that the new Heure III, L'Heure Verteuse evokes ‘toutes les herbes, aromatiques, sauvages, médicinales, même la lavande, même l’absinthe’ (every herb, aromatic, wild or medicinal, lavender as much as absinth) like a Middle Age herbarium. This green and aromatic fragrance recalls compositions of old which became a symbol of a simple and natural life, like for instance Le Jardin de Mon Curé by Guerlain -or rather her own creation for Guerlain inspired by the garden of her beloved grand-father who died at 101, Herba Fresca.

And yet, Laurent's aim is to present contemporary fragrances, as she reveals her goal: "Comprendre [son] époque, pour proposer des effluves modernes et beaux qui apportent du plaisir." (Understand one's era, so as to present modern and beautiful scents that bring pleasure). In fact L'Heure Vertueuse III draws its inspiration from Corsica and maquis.

 L'Heure Vertueuse III by Cartier contains notes of absinth, rosemary, mastic (lentisque), thyme, verbena and lavender to soothe body and spirit. Available as eau de toilette, 75ml exclusively at Cartier boutiques.
Official Cartier site here.

 [quotes source]

Cartier news: Baiser Vole new extrait de parfum & Le Baiser du Dragon discontinued

The quite lovely Baiser Volé by Cartier is now coming in an extrait de parfum concentration for the ultimate experience of immersing your head in a fresh,green lily bouquet.

Among the prettiest (if not most exciting) releases of 2011, Baiser Volé is now more concentrated in order to cater for indulging our posh genome. The new bottle is shaped like a metal lighter, continuing the tradition of Cartier which began with Must de Cartier (1981).

You can read a review of Baiser Volé on this link and information on lily fragrances on this one.You can find a guide into perfume concentrations on this link.

On the other hand, Le Baiser du Dragon, a sumptuous and hold-no-prisoners oriental from 2003 with bitter almond/amaretto notes and jasmine-gardenia in the heart, is getting discontinued. The reason offered is a desire to focus on the more upscale Les Heures de Parfum line in the Cartier portfolio, developed by in-house perfumer Mathilde Laurent.Odd decision, given that the gorgeous name (which translates as Kiss of the Dragon) is used in an orientalised motif inspired jewelry line of the historical house.

It's hard to think the recalibrated focus is the only reason, as Délices de Cartier, So Pretty and several flankers on L'Eau de Cartier still are included in the Cartier portfolio, as strongly as ever. We can hypothesize that slower sales than anticipated thanks to the changing zeitgeist have something to do with it (Le Baiser du Dragon shares the fate of similarly smelling Kenzo's Jungle L'Elephant, if so) or possibly restrictions on some or other ingredient making it impossible to recompose satisfactorily (doubtful). Or perhaps a desire to break loose with the old and establish a new identity with nose Laurent on the helm (naturally Déclaration by Jean Claude Ellena is safe, as it's the biggest Cartier seller by several miles).

Cartier Baiser Vole: fragrance review

“There is no lily oil or lily absolute,” says perfumer Mathilde Laurent, who wanted to introduce a floral scent in Cartier’s fragrance collection, a propos Baiser Volé, the jewellery brand's latest feminine fragrance launch. The name means "Stolen Kiss" reminiscing such romantic images as Fragonard's painting or Truffaut's film. “But I didn’t want it to be the 1,001st floral floriental, and I didn’t want to add a new floral composition.” Instead, Laurent likened wearing Baiser Volé to having on a necklace of lilies!

In Baiser Volé, in-house Cartier perfumer Mathilde Laurent explores the nature of lily three-ways (the leaves, the petals and the pistil) in a fresh powdery floral context and ends up with a surreal lily that isn't really about flowers, nor does it smell particularly spot-on "floral", but about the flowery nature of woman herself: opening up, "blooming", receiving, being at once pure and a little bit disorienting.

Laurent began by asking what smell men found enticing in a womanly way, to which the (fit to print, at least) prominent reply seemed to be "the lily". Colour me sceptical; isn't lily a symbol for purity and the need for cleansing? Maybe men are really leaning more onto the Madonna rather than the whore juxtaposition? Maybe they're asking them from a pre-arranged multiple-choice sheet?
At any rate, thus equiped, Laurent embarked on her 2-year long quest into fitting this stunning flower into a composition that would light up the room just lilies they do, without it being cliché, or surupy sweet, or headache-inducing cloying. If you are looking for the most realistic lily scent recreation, you might stop reading right now or read our article on Lily scent and lily flower types in perfumery; Baiser Volé doesn't even aim at that. But if you like fresh powdery scents, you might want to at least sample; it's very likeable.

The vegetal quality of the fragrance presents itself in an odd game of salicylates, solar notes which boom on the skin, a balance of bitter and sweet with a hint of citrus: The treatment, air-spun, meringue-like, delicate, is not unlike the one that perfumer Jean Claude Ellena reserved for the lightening up of vanilla through ylang ylang & lily notes in his fluffy Vanille Galante for the Hermessences. The vanilla and musks laced drydown in Baiser Volé recalls the sweetness of Un Lys by Serge Lutens, but the context is less poetic, more powdery, in a cosmetic-power-infused, slightly bittersweet way with a small subfacet of spice ~only minimal, a tad clovey; and a hint of violet ionones. It's safe to deduce that Baiser Volé transposes these niche sensibilities, pure, unadulterated exploration of perfumery raw materials's facets, in sleight-of-hand executions, into the mainstream. Compared with other lily fragrances, Baiser Volé stands alone and lacks the gaiac smokiness of real lilies which is reported to give them their "ham" brine-y facet. Cartier's interpretation is nowhere near the dense, ambery tinged radiant ambience of Donna Karan's Gold. Or the faux chypre structure of Ineke's Gilded Lily. Or the spicy corolla of Lily & Spice by Penhaligon's. And whereas Lys Mediterranée is a raspy, roughened salty-savoury lily that appeals to a certain Med sensibility with its hoarsey voice, while remaining irresolutely lily-like, Baiser Volé is smoother, more pliable, less floral, more traditionally womanly in its vanillic powdery kiss, and oddly at once old-fashioned and "clean".

On the other hand, and this is really interesting, Laurent takes no prisoners into embracing the latest trend of reinventing powdery florals for a generation that was afraid of anything powdery signifying "old lady perfume": From Esprit d'Oscar to Love,Chloé, the pink satin feel of ballerina shoes is taking on the sheen of flou through dusty, dry notes reminiscent of violets, talcum powder and sweet musks (if you're thinking of Lovely, by Sarah Jessica Parker, with an added dose of powderiness, you're not too far off); especially since this is a medium sillage fragrance, projecting politely while lasting power is good. Maybe it's code for "classy" or "different" in the milieu of hundreds of sweet things on the market. Maybe the generation who loved Flower by Kenzo and Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan have moved onto other things by now, leaving a void to be filled with new consuemers. The freshly powdery effect needs a true best-seller to shoot off as the new "craziness" in perfume (after "pink chypres" , fruitchoulis, and ethylmaltol-based ~aka cotton-candy smelling~ gourmands) and it remains to be seen just which fragrance that might be: Even though the concept and smell might be right for Cartier, I think we're dealing with a confusing name for Anglos: kissing the rodent seems to be many people's gut response, which might shoot the project in the foot (who can forget Rochas Poupée?).

Mathilde Laurent has been at jewellers Cartier since 2005 and she had been busy concocting Les Heures du Parfum, a series of niche-smelling fragrances sold exclusively at Cartier boutiques. Baiser Volé is the brand's first major feminine fragrance launch since Le Baiser du Dragon oriental in 2003 (Cartier de Lune of early 2011 not withstanding) and contrasted with the best-selling masculine Déclaration, which garners more than 60% of all Cartier's fragrance sales, this Baiser is set to be a serious bet on the part of the company; a recent Women's Wear Daily article tagged it as being intended as the scent pillar in the brand's feminine portfolio.It's definitely geared towards "a younger consumer", though like Robin I am at a loss on just how old the Cartier demographic really is to begin with.

The bottle of Baiser Volé is based on a stylised lighter design, for which the house is famous: In the 1970s there was no chicer way to light up (even today Cartier-embossed cigarettes are still produced in a small quantity in Europe), giving rise to the Les Must de Cartier, a boutique line from which Must perfume arose. Cartier Baiser Volé is available in Eau de Parfum (priced between $75-$145), also presented in matching Shower Gel and Body Lotion ($55 each) and deo spray, and is currently a Nordstrom Anniversary exclusive, but it will be available at major department stores in September 2011.

artwork via lunarki blog

Mathilde Laurent Responds to Perfume Shrine's Questions (& a little on Cartier Les Heures du Parfum)

Most of you are familiar with Mathilde Laurent through her early work at Guerlain, when as a young graduate of ISIPCA, under the aegis of Jean Paul Guerlain she created her modern epics, faithful to the patrimony of papa Jacques: Her Guet Apens (later re-issued as Attrape Coeur, the whole entangled story can be read on this link) is one of the most celebrated "new Guerlains" among cognoscenti, in the degree that it reflects a true Guerlain character, yet is resolutely of its own era.

Her Shalimar Eau Légère, reviewed and cherised on these pages, is another one which takes the best of tradition and injects it with the saturated hues and bold lines of a contemporary Francis Bacon painting. Like her artistic idol Camille Claudel ~as divulged to Marian Bendeth on a Basenotes project last year~ Mathilde appreciates modernity coupled with sensitivity and creativity.
Pamplelune with its sunny grapefruit side is, surprisingly enough for its daring sulfurous mien, still a Guerlain best-seller and one of two Aqua Allegorias (a sub-line in the Guerlain portfolio with lighter, less complex scents) which has remained in production ever since introduction of the line, the other being Herba Fresca with its surprising take on mint. (Her other creations in the Aqua Allegoria line included Ylang et Vanille and Rosa Magnifica) At some point, Mathilde Laurent left Guerlain to spread her wings unto greener pastures, including a brief stint at jeweler André Gas in 2006 (for the Polynesian tropical scent Ensoleille-Moi) and the current in-house perfumer position at the venerable Cartier headquarters, where she is composing bespoke scents (Sources place the price for juice to last 3-5 years up to 60,000 euros or $75,500). Her masculine, (again) mint-ladden Roadster for the mainstream jewellery house release last year has graced our pages and was considered a successful entry, poised most wisely between commerciability and artistic merit. Mathilde's talent is undisputed, her desire and ambition to compliment the art of perfumery with a decisive and landmarking contribution nevertheless is laudable. For her "perfume is a message, an expression of oneself" and a perfumer is "a sillagiste!"

I took the invitation that Elisa de Feydeau kindly opened for her francophone readers and asked Mathilde a couple of questions which she was most gracious to reply to. For the benefit of our English-speaking readers, here are her answers.

My first question had to do with something I had read in Perfumes, the Guide, a quote by Luca Turin in his Pamplelune review, in which he equated Laurent's turning to bespoke perfumery to "the saddest waste of human talent since Rimbaud decided to study engineering" (If this isn't praise, I don't know what is!). I was wondering whether the foreboding feeling created by this remark in my mind had come to a reversal through the new line Les Heures du Parfum for Cartier (a high-end project more on which below) and whether she was hopeful that the new line would open a dialogue between herself and perfume lovers; those Others beyond the scope of the mega-rich who have the means to order their very own perfume. After all, as revealed by Jean Claude Ellena to us before, custom perfumery runs the risk of inadvertdly "deceiving" the customer.

Mathilde Laurent herself had explained the bespoke process in the past in very clear terms: "Together (with the client), we explore scents associated with meaningful life experiences, from pleasant childhood recollections to a present image the client wishes to project. We transpose the Cartier style, a perfectly studied simplicity, into the scent. Just a few carefully selected high-grade ingredients are blended, so that each essence remains distinctive, not lost in a hazy combination." In the pursuit of good materials, she's relentless: "I look for the truly exceptional, the atypical, the never-before-seen" (The floral extracts used cost about $5,000 per kilogram, or $142 per ounce). "The provenance of the flower, its rarity where it was bred, the manner of extracting its essence, the climatic conditions that year, all are taken into account."
In hindsight Mathilde appreciates Luca Turin's accolades enormously: "He was among the first to support me and encourage me". She terms the bespoke service "a step, a detour in order to get someplace else". "I could never imagine not creating for The Others", she reveals, although she's quick to point out that "bespoke perfumery is for me a wonderful means to be close to those who love and wear perfume and to push the envelope regarding experimentation on new accords, to test and increase one's creativity and one's technique. Bespoke perfumery acts as a complimentary course for me, it nourishes my work on other projects. I hope that Cartier's Les Heures du Parfum will generate a dialogue with people wearing them, since for me perfume is a message that the skin diffuses, I am always interested in expression, perfume is always destined for the Other".

Another issue that is burning perfume lovers and the industry itself with the intensity of a surgical laser is the pressing issue of restrictions on perfumery ingredients. (You can read a recap and personal thoughts with a minimum of emotional sidekicks on this link and on that one). Mathilde Laurent proved to me to be both practical and wise: "Regarding the perfumery materials which are restricted from our palette, I pretend they never existed. Nevertheless, I continue to search for the effect they present, even though it might be considered a tad Utopian; to substitute with other ingredients and combinations. One must always start from scratch and search, search...Having "come of age" at Guerlain however {she started apprenticeship there at the tender age of 23, going to exotic places and learning about ingredients with the very best} I have intimately known all of those precious materials before they were rationed and their effect has most definitely marked me. I do keep them in memory, always!" Hopefully, with creative minds such as Mathilde's, even the parsimonious palette of essences that is left to perfumers can take a new shape and be utilized in a novel syntax that have been left unatttured till now. The future is here and it is brave!
As to her own pleasure, Mathilde has left herself to be seduced by her latest creation for Cartier XIII La Treizième Heure, a smoky leathery composition, even though she declares she never wears perfume on her free time (Her other rare ~she stresses~ indulgunce is Guet Apens). After all, she hopes to instigate a discourse, not a monologue, and I hope she will always succeed in doing that!

Les Heures du Parfum by Cartier are set to be 13 fragrances in the "neo-niche" mold of luxury brands such as Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences, boutique Guerlain scents, Armani Prive, Van Cleef & Arpels etc. (material-oriented compositions, uniform bottles, limited distribution). Cartier touts them as 'one really haute collection of fragrances for connoisseurs' to commemorate . The scents take on Latin numbers instead of names to reflect the digits on the famous Cartier watches, plus a lucky number thirteen in honour of the number of la maison Cartier's first address at 13 Rue de la Paix in Paris. They are to be spaced out in a period of a few years. The first five are coming out this November on the 10th in 35 Cartier boutiques all around the world. Eau de Parfum in 75 ml flacons for 250 dollars (Chayaruchama told me they're already at Saks in New York City, so New Yorkers take note and report back!).

Fragrance Notes for Les Heures du Parfum according to Grain de Musc (who got them straight from the horse's mouth and is enthused):

I – L’Heure Promise (The promised hour): a green iris with petitgrain, fresh herbs, sandalwood and musk.
VI – L’Heure Brillante (The shining hour): a bright aldehydic citrus cocktail with lemon, lime and a gin accord. X – L’Heure Folle (The crazy hour): an aldehydic fruity green with redcurrant, pink pepper, grenadine (pomegranate syrup), blueberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, violet, leafy notes, ivy, boxwood, shiso, polygonum (=knotweed)
XII – L’Heure Mystérieuse (The mysterious hour): a woody floral with jasmine, patchouli, elemi, coriander, incense, olibanum, juniper.
XIII -La Treizième Heure (The 13th hour): a sweet leather with maté tea, birch tar, narcissus, bergamot, patchouli and vanilla.

Portrait of Mathilde Laurent via Basenotes, images4.hiboox.com and luxuryculture, Cartier bottles via punmiris.com

Declaration by Cartier: fragrance review & comparison with L'essence and Bois Bleu

In horror fiction phantoms are creatures who consume other life forms as sustenance, and are able to perfectly mimic any creature they consume. Déclaration by Cartier is perfumer's Jean Claude Ellena's own homage to a phantom's mental connotations and in its turn the propagator of legion of phantoms in modern perfumery. But like its namesake aviation F-4 counterpart (affectionately called "the rhinoceros", although its first proposed ~and quickly rejected~ names were Satan or Mithra) it has done everything in a stealth of silent power!
Largely unsung and not given the proper attention it so richly deserves, almost taken for granted, it is nothing short of an absolute masterpiece of fusing cutting-edge modernity into a classical aromatic cologne formula for men. Eau d'Hermès (a 1951 Edmond Roudnitska creation) has been haunting Jean Claude Ellena's subconsious for ages, it seems. Its fantastically ripe, "skanky" interweaving of cedar, cumin, birchwood and moss manages to provide snippets of Jean Claude's insignia in almost everything he touches, interpreted and sieved through the most minutiae-capable colander; in Déclaration we see the student at once pay homage to the teacher and further the cause in most confident and spiritual brushstrokes of a mature Sōsho calligraphy. So much so that Jean Claude himself has admitted a partiality to this one out of his scented progeny. But whereas Eau d'Hermès went for the leathery, Jean Claude opted for the dry woody, injecting a large dollop of woody synthetic Iso-E Super, a material with which he has been experimenting for years to impressive effect.

"Created for men, but also enjoyed by women, Cartier's Déclaration was created for those who are in love, have an appreciation of openness, and feel passion". The fragrance erupted on the scene in 1998 like the ripples of lava slowly coming down the mountain: it has since consumed everything in its trail, influencing major players in its aromatic wake and pre-empting the new sharp, dry woody masculines like Colonia Intensa for Aqua di Parma (also by Jean Claude Ellena), Cipresso di Toscana by Aqua di Parma, Gucci by Gucci, John Varvatos Vintage and the newest niche masculine by Ormonde Jayne, Zizan; fragrances which gracefully followed the dearth of marines inaugurated by Bourdon's Cool Water two decades ago. And not a moment too soon!
My own personal encounter with it was buying it for myself upon launch, lured by the sexily fresh-sweat-vibe it exuded and then having my other half smelling it on me, usurping it most decisively, claiming it and making it his own ever since, to the most delicious effects which are better left to the reader's fertile imagination. It makes him feel refreshed , as if he's seeing the dawn for the first time opening windows which give on a view of the autumn forest, he says. Needless to say Déclaration occupies a very special segment of my olfactory cortex!

My friend Dane described it in a conversation as "a taxi driver in a forest" the other day and he couldn't be more accurate. If he had likened Déclaration to chantey, that would be close as well: The sweaty side married to the freshness of open horizons, all obeying a rhythmical discipline that engulfs you. The marriage of lucid clarity and sous-bois depth prove its masterful treatment of contrasting elements.
The jolting cumin opening is often feared as coming across as sweaty and indeed this is no scent for Waspy brokers who want to exude the prolonged latheriness of a morning shower-blast topped with a hundred grooming products à la Bret Easton Ellis heroes. On the contrary, this is very à la française, a scent for men the old style. Not caricatures of manufactured virility, you comprehend, but men who breathe and live and wear T-shits or wife-beater vests with a little humidity on their chest hair; a little overbearing or even narcissitic at times but passionate and sincere nonetheless. The idiosyncratic bitter citrusy elements (bergamot and bitter orange) and the green artemisia recall the comparable treatment Ellena reserved for his lustruous bitter-orange and limes themed Cologne Bigarade and Bigarade Concentrée for the Frédéric Malle line. But the real coup de grace comes in the guise of another exotic spice, cardamom, which makes me envision a slightly cocky chap in pressed chinos enjoying his aromatized inky tea taken in long, sensuous sips while checking the atractive passerbys.
This is Ellena's nod to Bulgari's tea-themed creations he authored previously, Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert (1992) and Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert Extrême (1996). What is left is the ambience of a lasting warmth, not rendered easily by laundry musks but fanned out on dry, luxurious, slightly smoky woods, which manage to not obscure the composition but play upon light and shadow like a black & white photograph of a compelling and charismatic French actor.

The bottle reprises the watch mechanism of Cartier watches' winding section with its cap (You have to pull the little metal holder down to let the sprayer free, just like releasing the security of a watch winder). The glass part looks as if two parts of a whole have been cut and re-assembled at an angle creating a small heart on the shoulders if looked from above, which gives a playful and even eerily girly vibe (and which bodes well with the unisex concept).

Notes for Déclaration by Cartier
Top: bergamot, bitter orange, birchwood
Middle: cardamom, wormwood, juniper wood, artemesia
Bottom: vetiver, oakmoss, cedarwood

Déclaration by Cartier is available at major department stores around the world.

Two flankers exist, both created by Jean Claude Ellena: L'essence de Déclaration (2001), a minimally different version on the original with the addition of rosewood, immortelle, a little amber and a lightening up of the slightly medicinal aspects of the original, encased in the same design bottle in teal glass; and Déclaration Bois Bleu (limited edition in 2001), which is a "fresher" interpretation in a light blue bottle (which to me is usually foreboding of "sporty" things for people not into sports, really). For the latter Chandler Burr commented: "This one is PG-13, but that simply means the cuminic body odor is gone (some will miss it; more will not). Its personality has been smoothed and calmed and de-Frenchified". Personally I'd rather have the original, as I feel the aquatic addition skews it in a direction I am not sure I'd want to stalk.
There is also Déclaration Eau Genereuse (a Limited edition from 2003), of which "generous water" the concept of is reportedly a re-working in Eau de Cologne style.
Cartier went on and produced Roadster for men recently. Which is pretty nice, but no match for the strange allure of Déclaration, despite aiming at roughly the same demographic.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Jean Claude Ellena scents and opinions, Masculine fragrances.

Pics via Couleur parfum and Parfum de pub. Vincent Cassel photographed by Vincent Peters.

Roadster by Cartier: fragrance review

by guest writer Mike Perez

I have been a fan of fragrances with mint, for quite some time now. Mint is prominently featured in many men’s fragrances and I think it’s a ‘love or hate’ note. Either one enjoys the bracing, vivified effect from this sharp, pungent herb – or it negatively conjures up olfactory images of aperitifs, mouthwashes and toothpaste.

Roadster, the new men’s fragrance from Cartier (by perfumer Mathilde Laurent [Shalimar Light and Cologne du 68 by Guerlain]), marketed as a mineral fougère - mixes notes of bergamot and mint with vetiver, patchouli, cashmere wood, cistus labdanum and vanilla. I’m not sure if Cartier (or the men out there Cartier is trying to sell to) fully understands the mineral fougère categorization. Nonetheless Roadster, smells wonderful.

The top notes are dominated by a soft, yet instantly recognizable ‘green’ diffusion of galbanum. I admire this entry (being a fan of ‘green’ fougères like the classic country cologne Devin by Aramis) and can appreciate the oh-so-smooth transition to the next herbal explosion of mint. Mint is tricky (sharpen it too much in a lackluster scent and it radiates menthol), but this mint is subdued, slightly cool to the back of the nose when sniffed and slightly foamy. I’m reminded of the smell I taste, when swallowing mint infused bottled water (such as Metromint).

Unlike some mint fragrances that tingle and cool my skin when applied (Booster by Lacoste by the masterful Jean Kerleo; the limited edition Feuille Verte by Creed; Eau d’Orange Verte Refreshing Body Gel by Hermes) – Roadster’s cooling properties happen only in my nose. It eschews the typical ‘sport’ vibe of mint and uses it in a more sophisticated, modern version of ‘fresh’. This makes sense, since Cartier chose to release this scent right before autumn and the arrival of cooler weather (when a cooling mint fragrance wouldn’t be appropriate).

The base notes are slightly woody (very faint) and sweetly vanilla prominent. Ms. Laurent’s past work for Guerlain shows in the dry down. Complex, blended, subtle whiffs of the fragrance combine with the mint, vanilla and woods in a very unique accord: a fresh baked, delicate vanilla and cream pastry with a steaming hot cup of herbal mint tea. I found myself catching whiffs of myself all afternoon when I first tested this – inwardly smiling.

The Roadster bottle (held horizontally on its side), mimics the hand dial of the Roadster watch by Cartier (which itself mimics the design of a roadster automobile). Heavy, clear glass and polished chrome cap. It’s worth noting that the bottle is VERY heavy. It feels solid in your hands. Perhaps too heavy, for easy application of the scent (held vertically). But…wrapped up in a gift box – it’s solid and substantial weight would make a great gift (who isn’t intrigued by a small, heavy, wrapped present?)

Roadster by Cartier is available in 100 ml. and 50 ml. (Eau de Toilette) for $100 and $75 (although I have seen the 100 ml online - discounted at $73). Visit the extremely slick (and slow loading Flash based) website here: roadster.cartier.com

Notes for Cartier Roadster: bergamot, mint, vetiver, patchouli, cashmere woods*, cistus labdanum, vanilla

Watch the interesting video with Cartier perfumer Mathilde Laurent talking about Roadster and the Cartier fragrance line!

*Cashmere woods or Cashmeran is a IFF patented, complex aromachemical that provides a beautiful, velours note with diffuse nuances of earthy-wood and spicy notes (pine, patchouli), fruits and flowers (heliotrope, red fruits, apples and jasmine) and is softly musky-vanillic. It's featured in Ysatis, Amarige, Michael, Lacroix Rouge, Perles de Lalique, Dans tes Bras and many more.

Pic of Henry Cavill courtesy of Jocasta/Photobucket, chosen by helg. Clip originally uploaded by Primeprojects on Youtube. Bottle pic courtesy of Cartier and of Roadster watch courtesy of jomashop.

Years go by and I'm here still waiting, withering where some snowman was

Today is cold and gloomy. And despite all odds, I feel elated, "a little warm in my heart when I think of winter". The meteorologists have predicted the first snow around the area I live in. Although I know I probably won't see any, as I'd have to drive quite a bit to escape the smog that prevents snow to fall, just the thought of the silent, white blanket craddling our hopes and yearnings is enough to make me dream.
Winter has always been a favourite time for me for reasons beyond logic. It's an instinctive preference, formed at a very early age. As my mother, firm in her belief that children should brace the cold so as to become sturdy (and I did), took me for a stroll as a toddler in bitter cold along the pier, seeing the angry stormy petrol-green sea splash furiously, the wind on my flushed little face, steel skies towering over me, my hands in woolen mittens, candied apples consumed, I felt happy and strangely at home. That was who I am. The joy of returning to a warm house augmented the pleasure already experienced, to be greeted by an adoring father.
Although I am not the person who becomes overjoyed in Christmas for reasons already discussed (much more prefer the Orthodox Easter which is a vastly more mystical and sensual -tied to pagan- celebration in my mind) , winter never fails to make me feel like I was when my feet couldn't touch the ground when I sat on the very armchair I am now sitting cuddling with a good book.
And so perfume should follow. Hence a little list of things that bring to my mind all the joys of winter, of love, of "white horses gone ahead".

Quotes and the title come from the lyrics of the trully great, moving song "Winter" by Tori Amos which you can listen to by clicking on the window above (courtesy of Rasberryswirl on Youtube). You can read the lyrics here

Un Bois Vanille by Serge Lutens
Who else but Serge and Shledrake could come up with a vanilla that is comforting, rich, smooth, deeply woody and never tacky? Vanilla is such an ubiquitous smell, really, which makes it hard to do properly. This is grown up, but with a wink to our childish aspirations.

L by Lolita Lempicka
I had bought a bottle in summer and reviewed it , when it first launched here, but didn't open it for months, relying on samples. Now is the proper time to take the plunge and crack my beautiful bottle open. To me, this is the perfect dark vanilla, with the inclusion of immortelle that adds a salty kiss on warmed skin. Created by Maurice Roucel, responsible for Poison, Musc Ravageur, Farenheit, L'instant and Insolence .

Must by Cartier
Best in pure parfum, Must smoulders and entices, unfolding siren notes of civet and amber anchoring narcissus and mandarin. The unexpected green note of the start has a loose-mouthed effect on the rest of the formula. It highlights it, the way the best conversationalists inspire interest by an unwonted beginning.

Fifi by Fifi Chachnil
From a french lingerie company, this is lacy knickers in dusty antique rose to wear between fluffy blankets, your hair in loose curls. Sweet blond tobacco and citrus notes clash and couple adoringly, a little soapy element with a swoosh of powder, much like Boudoir by Vivien Westwood is constructed, with copious references to the milkiness of Luten's Fumerie Turque. It has a complex character, lighter than Anne Pliska, that was surprising to me and it is definitely complimended by cold weather, as it smells nothing like it should in the heat (hence my delayed appreciation for it).
Thankfully that's one perfume that smells actually better in eau de parfum than parfum/extrait. So, it's also economical!

Muschio e Ambra by L'erbolario
This little italian company makes great products of skincare and perfume and has the most nostalgic labels imaginable; they all seem like they have come out of a paintings index. Muschio e ambra tranlsates as musk and amber and has the delightful smell of aged patchouli and slightly bitter fir resin that stays on your skin for hours on end in the eau de parfum.

24 Faubourg by Hermès
Because after all the orientals one associates with winter, one would want a rich floral to lift the spirits and immerse oneself in their delicacy. This is like the queen of elegance and it veers on floriental. Rich orange blossom on a smooth amber base, sweet but not sacharine. Imagine yourself draped in thick silk and powdered to perfection, your lips painted in a becoming auburn shade to compliment the dark colouring of the juice. Another Maurice Roucel creation. This is the very elegant, classy projection of a lady. Go for the eau de parfum in winter.

Gucci EDP I by Gucci
A nostalgia for great perfumes of the past makes for this thyme, cumin, orange blossom and heliotrope-laced composition that is anchored by vanilla and orris. It smells the way grand dames smelled, but has some air of modernity in there as well, making it a very urban offering for a lady with a hidden side. It proved not to be a big seller for the house, which could be good news (you'll be more unique wearing it) or bad (it will at some point get discontinued), depending on your outlook in life; as with everything else.

Schizm by Ayala Moriel Perfumes
You have probably guessed by now that Ayala's natural perfumes have made an impression on me. Besides her very wintery Fκte d'Hiver her more complex, chypré Schizm is exactly what its name alludes to; the duality of woman: it starts peppery and sharp to segue onto floral notes of which the narcottic tuberose prevails, all bedded down in a country road near a forest, leaves trampled underfoot a campfire smelled at the distance. The official notes are: Black pepper, Cedarwood, Mandarin, Tuberose, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Oakmoss, Musk notes, Incense

Angel by Thierry Mugler
I am talking about the body cream and not the eau de parfum here. Big vats of nasty chemicals are what many people perceive and yes, I can see why. I am doubtful it contains even one natural ingredient in there. And I know, most of you have either a love-it or hate-it relationship with it, because of its mothballs rolled in toxic caspirene-coumarin aroma of choco-caramel and patchouli. Just try a smidgeon of the body cream. It's all one needs...

Douce Amère by Serge Lutens
Bittersweet, more bitter at first, less so after a while, weird like glue, it transports the soul. A mix of cool and warm, it interpolates various moods, that crystallise in one absinthe-liquor prepared the original way, with vanillic sugar on the spoon and everything.
If one is melancholic but not really sad, this compliments the mood admirably in the colder season.

Pink Sugar by Aquolina
What a glorious candy fair smell that reverts us to childhood all over again? The mega-blast of intense tooth cavity giving sweetness is very intense, so what better time to use just a small bit in the dead of winter? Not to be taken seriously. Caress the inner child!

Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque
The complete antithesis of the above mentioned Pink Sugar, for good measure and to prove the schizophrenic tendencies of Perfume Shrine. Not a proper perfume but a room spray that also comes in a candle. Upon spraying the association with tar and birch is overwhelming, so I suggest decanting in a dab bottle to use on one's hands. (it needs a little distance from your face) Dark, deep smokey incense paired with guaiacwood, evoking mustiness and darkness, serenity and centering all in one, rich like Avignon by Comme des Garcons, but with less of a warm feeling, much in the manner of Etro's Messe de Minuit, albeit more wearable.

Painting by Greek painter Nicolaos Gyzis courtesy of eikastikon