Boss Bottled Elixir: fragrance review

Although we tend to overlook Boss fragrances, if only because of their ubiquitousness and confusing names, apparently, they still possess the power to surprise us. Color me impressed, then, upon discovering that Boss Bottled Elixir is nothing short of an anomaly in the usual Boss range.

It's exciting, atypical in the roster, certainly night-time material, and with a dark streak that defies the 'fitting in' average guy profile we tend to associate with the brand. Call it a prejudice, but it's nice demolishing these with the hammer of Thor sometimes, isn't it? Boss Bottled Elixir was conceived by Annick Menardo, a beloved perfumer of cult hits, and Suzy le Helley, and that explains some things. The intersection of incense and cedar is a direct quote from the niche segment, while cardamom, with its cooling aura, lifts the darker elements of the labdanum base. Yet the dark base is unmistakably there throughout. It's booming like a bass coming from a car's sound system far away. The resinous-patchouli-turned-soil chord is dominant and deliciously done. Its smoky elements come through via the smokey facet of patchouli and vetiver coupled and reflected by the smoky aspect of incense. Perfect for nights out and great overall.

Parfums Berdoues Arz El Rab: fragrance review

Ginger has a peculiar quality of appearing at the same time fresh and fiery. It's got an energizing zing to it, which is great for giving lift and energy to compositions that would otherwise remain dull and/or maudlin. Its shared facets with citrus make it a wonderful addition to classic eau de cologne compositions, elevating them to a quirky refreshment for summer wear, as exemplified by Origins Ginger Essence. Its classical inclusion in gingerbread gives warmth and comforting nuances in cooler weather fragrances, which recall those evenings spent by the fire nibbling on said cookies. Ginger's allusion to Far Eastern cuisine, where it's also very popular, is another culturally rich pool of pleasurable referents.

My favorite ginger fragrance falls rather far from either of those categories.
Parfums Berdoues Arz el-Rab can't be said to be particularly fresh or cologne-y, nor is it a gourmand ginger scent. Instead it has a gauzy feeling of canopies atop a wooden four-post bed made out of solid, polished wood, a tiny bit dusty. It's comforting, but it's a whole other comfort association. The ginger is allied to a tiny citrusy facet which dissipates almost upon spraying; the energetic blast is vibrant for the first hour or so, with the ginger holding first violin role. What follows possesses the starched quality of a subdued and low-key scent of woods and fluffy iris, with no metallic contraptions. It's as if one is actually invited to rest their wary body atop that four-post bed surrounded by pencil shavings. I happen to like pencil shavings (the classic Virginia cedar wood smell) and this bodes well for me personally. Pencil shavings recall academic pursuits and ginger provides that needed energy boost that academic pursuits would need, so it's a good mental match.

 More masculine or unisex, at the very least, rather than traditionally feminine, at least as defined by the presence of florals or sweetness in the current vernacular, Arz el-rab is perfect for all those situations where you want a tiny jolt of energy without appearing too invasive or self-conscious, and can be worn summer or winter without much wavering to its medium projection.

Viktoria Minya Hedonist Cassis: fragrance review

The fallen berries that get smashed and mushed underfoot reflect something of the realization of so much waste around us that even useful, succulent things fall to their unintentional demise through a drive that obeys cosmic rules; gravity, fall, squish. Hedonist Cassis by young but talented perfumer Viktoria Minya is certainly not wasteful, bring the tang of blackcurrant and grapefruit into the core chord of Hedonist, her original creation, making for an intense experience that recalls gathering berries in the countryside waiting for mr.Fox.

hello mr.fox on flickr, via Pinterest

Viktoria Minya has indulged her original composition with a cluster of variations, each highlighting a separate ingredient, Iris, Rose, and Cassis. The latest, Hedonist Cassis, possibly comes in the most attractive bottle, purple-ish with a touch of the late Prince, if you will.

Berry fragrances probably owe their heritage to the cult best-seller by L'Artisan Parfumeur, the original "berry" which spawned a hundred offspring over the decades since its inception.
The composition here however reminds me much more of the appeal of Yves Saint Laurent In Love Again (a combo of grapefruit and blackcurrant) by perfumer Jean Claude Ellena and doesn't fail to make me smile. The rose note is reminiscent of the chord in L'Ombre dans l'Eau by Diptyque; if like me you tend to shy away from overly prim, Jane Austen roses, and appreciate instead the tang that blackcurrants give to the above mentioned Diptyque fragrance, then Hedonist Cassis is sure to hit you with the epiphany of "oh, there's rose in it". Yes, but oh so delicious.

I am reminded of inconsequential things that have to do with late summer: the droning sound of the bees, the lazy contours of the calamus in the distance, the gentle softening of the sky as dusk sets in lilac hues; refreshing juice full of sour and sweet citruses served on the balcony and the canopy shading the rays while we're reading L'Education Sentimentale, the heroes leaping off the page in their game of social graces, platonic loves and carnal disgraces; freckles slowly forming on a long hellenic nose and lashes prettily faning on a smooth cheek, the comfortable silence of well trodden territory.

Extraordinary lasting power in Heodnist Cassis is an added bonus. For those of you who love a tart synthesis with great balance between sweet and sour and a stonking beat of lasting musky-wood this is your fruity floral pick for summer wear.

Fragrance Notes for Viktoria Minya Hedonist Cassis:
Top notes are black currant, grapefruit and rhubarb;
middle notes are bulgarian rose, grass and cassis;
base notes are cedar and musk.

Homage Rendered: 10 Years of Terre d'Hermes

Virgil said in his Georgics, referring to agricultural labors, "Tempus fugit", i.e. time flies. And it does fly and the older I get, the more I realize I can't really keep up. But I do keep up with perfume anniversaries, because, well, my inclination for perfume archiving bodes well with both the passion and the job. I was counting the years behind some of the best perfumes around and one of them has just feted its 10th birthday.

Without further ado, I present you with Terre d'Hermes, one of the best-selling masculine fragrances in Europe, which is commemorating the anniversary with two special 2016 edition for the Eau de Toilette and the Parfum Extrait. Please read the homage on Fragrantica on this link.

Guerlain Carmen, Le Bolshoi: new fragrance

Guerlain has been making fragrance exclusives honoring the famous Bolshoi ballet for the Russian market for some time now. With three editions under their belt, this year's exclusive is named Carmen, Le Bolshoi and comes in this fabulously provocative bottle in red.

The first fragrance Le Bolshoï appeared in 2011 and was timed to celebrate the reconstruction of a historic building of the Bolshoi Theater. A year later, there was a bottle La Traviata, Le Bolshoï with scarlet cameo. The smoky juice inside commemorated the opera by Giuseppe Verdi with notes of orange, bergamot and petit-grain. In 2014, the Bolshoï Theater performed the hallmark of Russian ballet , Tchaikovsky's"Swan Lake." Black Swan Le Bolshoï was the offering Guerlain created with perfumer Thierry Wasser to celebrate it with their loyal Russian customers.

This season for the 240th Bolshoi Theater jubilee, 240th  world famous "Carmen"by George Bizet is the opus in question. It was first staged in 1875 in Paris and in 2015 celebrates its 140th anniversary. Thierry Wasser created a limited edition fragrance for the Russian market, Carmen Le Bolshoï.

For Carmen,Le Bolshoï the formula includes fragrance notes of jasmine, cedar, citrus, red berries and musk. Bright and bold according to Guerlain as is Carmen. On October 1st  it will appear in TSUM and DLT and on December 1st  in select Guerlain corners. The retail price of Carmen Le Bolshoï is set at 22 000 rubles.

EDIT TO ADD: Recent reportage and testing suggests that Carmen Le Bolshoi is a re-edition of the original Vetiver pour Elle by Jean Paul Gaultier from 2004.

pic & availability info via Vogue.ru

Divine Spirituelle: fragrance review and samples draw

Certain perfumes give an illusory first impression like people who come into a party seemingly underdressed only to impress you with their smarts and true chic as the night unfolds. Spirituelle, the latest Divine fragrance, an at once delicate and spirited take on the rosy powdery floral, took me a cursory first sniff and then a much more attentive one to appreciate its twists that put the chic into the chica. It ended up winning me and might win you too if you're either a floral phobic or a rose hater, so lend me your eyes for a sec.

Bulle Ogier via Photobucket/francomac123

Two major themes play into the blueprint of Spirituelle. The first one is a dessert-worthy succulent note that derives from the two rose absolutes (one from Turkey, the other from France), flanked by rosy, fresh spice on one side and a smooth lightly ambery caress on the other. The feeling is not unlike the deliciousness of Neela Vermeire's Mohur eau de parfum, rendered here more ethereal and a bit less dense. Never too sweet, but inviting.

The second theme is the wink of a smoky cigarette note that rises only from a certain distance. The French are known for their predilection for smoking and I don't smoke myself as a rule, so the illusory effect is not a trail off my clothing or skin. Rather it recalls the practice of French perfumes of yore which had a compatible ambience to human habits: food, sex, drink and smoke. The hand is quicker than the eye (or the nose, as circumstances apply): the effect is lightweight and imperceptible if not told about beforehand. Chapeau then for such a clever little conjurer's trick which makes Divine Spirituelle go beyond the polite, prim and beige rose perfume that so many fragrance companies issue for Victoriana admiring fans, without on the other hand falling into the commonality of either patchouli nor oud.


Spirituelle comes as the 11th creation for Divine, the small niche brand by Yvon Mouchel, founded in the small town of Dinard. Perfumer Richard Ibanez who worked on Spirituelle has been a longtime partner with the Divine brand: he was the one composing the word-of-mouth cult first Divine scent, Divine by Divine.

I have 6 perfume samples for an equal number of lucky readers. Please let me know your experiences with rose in the comments to be eligible for the draw. Draw is open internationally till Friday midnight and winner will be announced in the weekend.

Fragrance notes for Divine Spirituelle:

Top: pink pepper, Sichuan pepper, geranium, cistus
Middle: May rose absolute, Anatolian rose absolute
Base: Texas cedarwood, white amber, white musk, incense.

Spirituelle is available as eau de parfum (50, 100, 200ml splash bottles or 30 and 50 refillable spray bottles) and as pure parfum extrait 20ml.

Estee Lauder White Linen: fragrance review & history

Would you appreciate a fragrance that projected around the way knitting needles would stick inside your nostrils, the equivalent of a scent porcupine? The "needles up the nose" characterization has never found a more apt bond than the one spontaneously created in the mind of one perfume lover on the board of Perfume of Life years ago regarding White Linen. The phrase has since entered the online perfume lingo as a casual but evocative definition for the painfully sharp, supremely stinging feeling that certain perfumes heavy in aldehydes (i.e. synthesized molecules with a "bright", soapy and fizzy aspect), such as this particular Lauder perfume, produce in those who smell them.

White Linen is possibly among the most distinctly aldehydic floral fragrances of all time, an honor it shares with Chanel No.22, but whereas No.22 goes for the snuffed out candle waxiness and smokiness (which recalls incense if you glint your head just this way), White Linen, its American counterpart and about 50 years its junior, goes for the steam of an iron pressing on a crisp, starched shirt which has been washed with the harshest lye soap on earth. In short, memorable! (You'd never mistake it for "white noise fragrance")

White Linen was launched alongside Lauder's Celadon and Pavilion in 1978 as part of the makeup and scents collection "New Romantics" (in itself influenced by the music trend that was just emerging). Composed by Sophia Grojsman, White Linen bears her signature style of impressive cleanness projected via loudspeakers fit for a Guns n'Roses concert. For a Russian emigre Grojsman has acquired throughout her career a particularly American ideal of femininity, no doubt thanks to the exigencies of the American giant of aromatics who employs her, International Flavors and Fragrances; well scrubbed, athletic, spick & span, Athenian rather than Venereal.

1993 print ad

Coming on the heels of the sporty leathery Azuree, the bitterish chypre perfume Private Collection and the bright and soapy-smelling aldehydic Estee, it's not difficult to see how White Linen also fits in the canon of Lauder and in the zeitgeist of the late 70s, when women began to make a career of executive positions and started in earnest to 'bring home the bacon, fry it in a pan' as one commercial* of the times claimed.

Although ubiquitous and always in production since its launch, without any detectable changes in its formula, it's one of those fragrances that fly under the radar, so I am archiving White Linen in my Underrated Perfume Day feature. Its monolithic structure (built on huge single blocks of materials, much like later Grojsman oeuvres such as Tresor by Lancome) White Linen packs a punch.
But the aldehydic knock-out comes with an astounding discovery: the aldehydes contribute just 1% to the formula, with equal parts of Galaxolide (synthetic clean musk, garlanded by at least 3 other synth musks) and Vertofix (giving a cedar wood note) accounting for almost half of the ingredients! The secret is that unlike most other aldehydic floral fragrances it lacks the modifying, mollifying caress of bergamot and ylang ylang.

late 1990s print ad

1986 print ad

A fresh rose core, so fresh that it borders on cleaned-up orange blossom, bring a kinship of White Linen to Calandre, while the overall genealogy brings it as a modern classic that derives from Madame Rochas and Chanel No.5. The sheen of squeaky green lily of the valley boosts the sharp cleanness, the sparkle of hedione brings luminosity and vetiver gives its own freshness and subtle woodiness alongside a powerful amber note. The latter two elements give White Linen a touch of sophistication which could tilt it into unisex territory.

White Linen is a powerful, titanic Aurora and although it is removed from what I (and many other people) find comfortable, I can't fail but to admire its guts and its blinding brightness, white-washed like a house directly carved out of white volcanic rock in the Aegean.

*that's actually the slogan for Enjoli. 

The advertising photos are all so charmingly appealing that I decided to include them all. 

1978 print ad

Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta 10th anniversary Editione Speciale 2013: fragrance review & free perfume bottle givaway

Husks of cardamom, crashed and fragrant, in my pocket. A window opening up to a vista of green pines overlooking the Mediterranean azure blue under the crisp but smiling sun of noon. The scent of clean linen dried in the fresh air in the breeze and the human warmth of a worn wool sweater approaching. Zesty citrus as when you scrap a bitter orange with your nails. Scattered writings on the desk, unfinished phrases, small notes of random thoughts. Pencil shavings in an ashtray, abandonded and lonely. A beautiful stem of jasmine cut and browning by the hour. Safety. Serenity. Solace.

When in 2003 the formidable collaboration of perfumers Jean Claude Ellena and Bertrand Duchaufour came up with the original Colonia Assoluta for Acqua di Parma the feat wasn't announced with fanfare. But now that the classical Cologne has re-emerged from the attic as the eternal sine qua non of Southern European elegance and proper grooming, when totally modern spins on this time-honored genre, such as GS03 (Biehl Parfumkunstwerke), as well as more traditional ones, like Chanel Eau de Cologne, draw our attention, rediscovering this refined gem in a gorgeous presentation for its 10th anniversary is occasion for rejoicing.

Acqua di Parma assures us that more than ten ingredients are of a natural origin in their Colonia Assoluta: Calabrian bergamot, red orange, orange blossom, jasmine, lavender, rosemary, Virginia cedar and sandalwood. Less citrusy than the original Colonia, more emphatically aromatic and mossier, the way Cartier Declaration is mossy under the cardamom cool spiciness, Colonia Assoluta is everything I picture a graceful man (or a woman who loves using shared fragrances) of my culture wearing.

The bottle design for the Colonia Assoluta 10th anniversary isn't just random: This special edition decorated with graphic signs is inspired by the moving spokes of a bicycle. The original pattern was designed by Acqua di Parma to convey the contemporary feel of this particular Eau de Cologne and its users, modern men around town, atop their bicycle. The original motif is reproduced in the bottle and case with the spokes stretching across the surface in silver hues, the distinctive colour of Colonia Assoluta. It is through a special craft that the spokes are engraved on the glass surface in order to create light and dark contrasts serving as an elegant expression of the sophisticated scent itself. Light contrasts keep changing with every motion of the large sized 180ml bottle, offered in the refillable version to last in time. 

Notes for Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta:
Top: bergamot, bitter orange, sweet orange and lemon verbena
Heart: jasmine, vetiver, ylang-ylang, cedar, cardamom, pink pepper and paprika
Base: patchouli, oakmoss, white musk, sandalwood and resins

Please note this isn't the first special edition for Colonia Assoluta: there is also Editione Riviera (2007), Editione Speciale 2011 and Colonia Assoluta in Villa (2009). This 10th anniversary edition is code-named Colonia Assoluta Editione Speciale 2013.

To make this 180ml/6oz bottle you see in the picture yours, please post a comment saying whether you bicycle or not (and why) and if you have any favorite associations with bicycles. Mine will forever be Ladri di Biciclette by Vittorio de Sica.
Draw is open internationally till Sunday 10th October midnight and the winner will be announced on Monday.

Biehl Parfumkunstwerke GS03: fragrance review

GS03 for Biehl Parfumkunstwerke is the acronym for perfumer Geza Schoen's third composition he signs with his initials for the quirky and arty niche brand hailing from Hamburg, Germany by way of New York and more ways than one stands as the distilled signature of his mature work passed down in flying colors. Everything is there: the copious amounts of Iso-E Super (a synthetic material he is famous for using in his work), the airy modern feeling like ambient music, the legibility and at once the wearability of the composition by man, woman or animal (well, I made the last one up, but you know what I mean). The scent gains in warmth and sensuality as the body heats up, the hallmark of a good "skin scent". Like plexi-glass bricks letting sunlight traverse through them, it only looks artificial first time around; familiarity gets it ingrained fast.

photo of Geza Schoen provided for PerfumeShrine use

For Geza, a molecular wizard who questions the very nature of fine fragrance, scent works like an invisible mantle, at once enhancing the wearer's "super powers," the way Superman's cape allows him to reach his flying potential, and creating an enigma as to their definite source (May we recall here his infamous Molecule 01, "an agreeable ambient presence which plays peek-a-boo with my nose" as Katie Puckrik said). Schoen doesn't like the modern approach of mass fragrance anyway: "Fragrance these days is all about naked women on the beach, naked women on the sofa, naked women in the arms of naked men—it’s so boring", he states in no uncertain terms.

For GS03 the concept was a totally modernized, galvanized Cologne, not a rehash. The classic of old, the Eau de Cologne formula (citrusy effervescence with herbal-aromatic accents and a very faint musk in the base) stands for the contentment of cleanliness, since it is routinely splashed on after a bath, but also of exhilaration and total body & mind detoxing; a simple message printed in thick, header bold: spray it on and just feel good about yourself! With a history of more than 3 centuries on its back it also risks coming across as "granny-ish" or maudlin. To avoid that Schoen and art director Thorsten Biehl worked on incorporating contemporary elements and a modern structure. The result reads as unisex, because there are no traditionally very feminine, dainty, pretty-pretty notes, nor heavily burly chest-thumping and gravelly-voiced masculine ones.

pic of Geza Schoen & Thorsten Biehl at work, provided for PerfumeShrine use

The top note of Biehl Parfumkunstwerke GS03 fragrance is as clear as a church bell pealing on a mountain top in the Alps, but at the same time quite soft and soapy-smelling, comprised of a pink pepper note (allied to what can only come across as sweet lemon to my nose) which reveals a less sharp than citrus, slightly fruity-rosy scent carried far by the scent of the alcohol carrier. The rejuvenating scent of juniper gives an herbal accent that recalls the bracing feel of downing a good gin. The lemony touch just aids in bringing forth the herbal aspects of juniper berries. The trick of juniper is clever; it has provided that contented, in-the-know smile I recall from wearing Angeliques sous la Pluie (Jean Claude Ellena for Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle) and Juniper Sling (Olivier Cresp for Penhaligon's). The gin & tonic combination is as perennially pleasing as a button-down oxford shirt in white; it just works in any situation, on any wearer. It's also effortless, even if you're using Hendrick's. It seems to me that there is also a bitterish artemisia hint in GS03, a tickling of the sinuses which aids the pungent freshness (and some hedione); it would serve as both a contrast and a modifier, rendering the juniper fresher and the rest fruitier by contrast. The anchoring elements consist of the potent musky, cedar-like hum (Iso-E Super) which we have come to associate with Geza Schoen, with an added layer of castoreum, just enough to give interest.

pic of Geza Schoen & Thorsten Biehl provided for PerfumeShrine use

The projection of Biehl GS03 is mild: I catch whiffs now and then and if I lean over the spots I sprayed it's most definitely there, but it doesn't come across as "you're wearing perfume!" (Come to think of it, should anything?)

GS03 is available from the Biehl site, at Scent Bar and on Luckyscent.

The Different Company Bois d’Iris: Fragrance Review

Yes, this is my copy of Bois d’Iris—right up to the obtuse notch on the top left corner of the box upon yours truly’s overzealous unwrapping—yet in all honestly after a few years I still haven’t figured out a proper place for master perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena’s creation.

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

photo copyright: AlbertCAN (used with permission)

Is it the subject matter? Hardly. Iris is one of my preferred olfactory subjects of exploration. (Apparently so does the US Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour, as the owners of Aedes de Venustas told Chandler Burr: "Dolce and Gabbana came in for a thank-you gift for Anna Wintour. She likes irises, so we loaded her basket with iris candles, iris soaps, iris room sprays, and decorated it with fresh irises.") Could it then be the compositional philosophy? Quite the opposite: many readers of this space and my humble blog would know that I have been a keen observer of Ellena’s aesthetics for years now. The quality of the ingredients is also evident from the first moment to the last, the packaging from The Different Company impeccable. So what makes it just short of being a clincher?

An epiphany striked through upon composing this review: it’s in the name. Bois d’Iris (not to be confused with Van Cleef & Arpel’s subsequent release under its niche Collection Extraordinaire line) is exactly what the title suggests: it’s more of a manifestation of woods within iris.

Let’s not to imply that Ellena skimped on costs here: the pricy iris concrete is used here and its effect is evident. For the purpose of composing this review I have pulled out my batch of iris to compare. Indeed the concrete is at the depth of this work, forming an earthy, damp, slightly tunnelled ambiance at the back end. The iris used in Bois d’Iris creates a smooth and silken effect, while displaying all typical facets of the material: the floral violets, the dark gourmands, the dry woods. And because iris concrete just by itself lacks the diffusional standards for modern perfumery Ellena here has chosen to bolster the material with alpha-isomethyl ionone, a material having a diffusive, powdery impression of violets and its slightly chalkier analogue—you’ve guessed it—iris. At this point I should point out that the duo of iris and alpha-isomethyl ionone also form the backbone of Hermès Hiris, yet whereas Olivia Giacobetti’s composition lightens up the cornerstone with carrot and almond wood, Bois d’Iris veers into another direction.

A few years back I had the fortune of communicating with Octavian Coifan about subtle ways of emphasizing iris within a composition, and he mentioned that vetiver or even cedar would be good options. While Chanel 28 La Pausa, another iris fragrance, has vetiver at its base, Bois d’Iris is firmly in the cedarwood territory. And the heart of the composition is filled with narcissus and aspects of geranium: the rosy geraniol and citronnellol, the woodsy-peppery-floral linalool. Then to complete the composition we have the clove aspect from eugenol, the slight ylang impression from benzyl salicylate and the hay-like depth from coumarin. Limonene, the essential building block of citrus elements, is also present, though I don’t generally consider that to be the main player at all; in fact, the traditional top notes are neither prominent nor emphasized.

Now I don’t know about you, but at this point the above-mentioned notes, in their respective positions, read modern French formal to me—emphasis on the word formal. Don’t get me wrong: like I have previously mentioned the composition integrity is commendable, style consistent with Ellena’s point of view. Yet what comes with its Gallic nature is an authentic air of reservation and formality, more of a silent masculine to Hiris feminine. Reserved, pensive. It’s not to suggest that Bois d’Iris is boring, with the narcissus-eugenol-coumarin axis giving off a slight wine-like nuance and the cedar forming a nice wine-cask resonance. Now I suspect Bois d'Iris knows how to enjoy life, but only tastefully in private.

Overall? Bois d’Iris is something I use from time to time in my own spare time, when I feel like losing myself in a long leisurely read. If I want my holy grail iris I will continue layering Hiris with Persicol.

Frederic Malle Angeliques sous la Pluie: fragrance review

The thin snowflakes came down the skies unexpectedly early yesterday morning, silk confetti melting softly on the wet streets as a pale sun was shining beneath the fluffy clouds. Maurizio Pollini was touching the clavier on the background in a beloved Polish composer's Nocturnes. The silence was deafening, perfect in its standstill position. It felt like one of those moments when long-eared, soft furred dogs gather their paws, bow down their head and sigh with a mix of contemplative happiness and resignation to the mysteries of the world around them. I was reminded of the tender, contemplative emotions sweeping over me upon discovering Angéliques Sous La Pluie (2000, Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle) for the first time.

This bitterish and cool fantasy of gin & tonic was pure like a snowflake, tingling at the back of the throat like the cold air of the tundra. Juxtaposed next to the warm spiciness of the carnal Musc Ravageur, the soie sauvage Hitchcockian elegance of Iris Poudre or the camphorous floral lushness of Carnal Flower it seems a breed apart. It's the sort of thing to foreshadow an atmosphere or reflect a mood, rather than a pronouncement on the wearer, never crying for attention.

Angelica is a plant with a nose-tingling essence, peppery in a way like peppercorns are, bracing but less pungent and greener. Perfumer Jean Claude Ellena picked a small bunch of angelica and put it in his pocket after a visit to the garden of fellow perfumer Jean Laporte after the rain. Inspired by this fleeting whiff of the still dewy angelica bouquet, Jean-Claude Ellena's fragrance plays out like a chamber music arrangement. There is the petrichor scent of rain falling on dry earth, a green herbal tonality without moss or grass. One detects the spicy, tonic notes of angelica leaves mixed with some bergamot freshness, juniper berries and citrusy coriander, softened by a hint of musk, soft non sweetened amber and cedar wood. Its deceptive softness is non vanillic. Its prettiness devoid of flowers. There is a hint of violet like in Soivohle's Violets and Rainwater but that's it.

As Malle himself puts it: "Angéliques sous la Pluie is a perfume whose charm stems from the originality of its mix and from the free hand of its author. The perfect balance and fragility of Angéliques sous la Pluie, like the drawing of a great artist, is what makes it so beautiful. As proof of his great wisdom, the artist knew when to stop before destroying its charm. This first collaboration with Jean-Claude Ellena was thus a lesson in humility".

Angéliques Sous La Pluie is perfectly fit for men or women, lasts on a sostenuto sotto voce, wears as fine in wintertime as it does in the dead of summer and is typical Ellena in style; refined, dry, personal, non condescending, never obvious, worth revisiting to catch new glimpses each time, requiring a mind that is attuned to silence and simplicity of line rather than opulence and clatter. And all the better for it. Angéliques Sous La Pluie –– "a splash of emotion".

Available as 50ml spray for 140$, 3x10ml travel sprays for 95$, 100ml spray for 195$ on the official Malle site.

Aftelier Sepia: fragrance review

There is an eerie feeling upon coming across a ghost town, the very cinematic experience of bypassing a highway into a smaller, abandonded scenic route into the vast countryside; all silence in the distance and blue skies passing you by above. In America ghost towns are something of a fixture in the collective unconscious, a remnant of the wild west past, the advent of industrialism and the building of autoroutes erasing bustling cities from the map.
The desolate beauty of the ruins, standing abandonded as if replete with tales of lives spent heard in whispers on the wind that blows amongst the delapidated buildings, inspired indie perfume Mandy Aftel (Aftelier perfumes) into creating an all-naturals perfume that would put decay into an elegant context, into a wearable form translating the ravages of time.

via lonewolfphotos.com

Sepia by Aftelier, the resulting perfume, utilizes the most refined and dignified of materials of sweet decay: oud wood mulling over floating ambergris; blanched, matured, patina-bearing, ghost-like...
The musty feel of both oud and cepes (the latter being the raw and damp smelling, peculiar essence of mushrooms, exalted in Mandy's Cepes and Tuberose) come out in the composition as seen through a sieve; their chunkier elements surfacing, while the rest is retreating into the distance like the vision of a ghost town while traversing through those abandonded roads of the west. Even though intense -typically gourmand, but not here!- notes such as cocoa, coffee and the multi-nuanced white tobacco are also featured in the formula, the weaving is tight, none of them peaking above the others. You'd be hard-pressed to distinguish one from the other. This dry woods perfume doesn't make any compromise.

Instead the floralcy of yellow mandarin along austere cedarwood and the musty notes open Sepia, predesposing someone for something strong which soon belies that impression: the fragrance becomes earthier, darker and more mysterious while continuously subtle. Aftel used other intriguing essences, such as pink lotus for a lighter feel, a hint of wine facet from berry notes, full bodied indolic jasmine and labdanum, usually the recipe for an animalic floral.

Sepia however defies such predictable seduction tricks. It is above all a play on atmosphere, an inwards  journey into what is left in our soul upon encountering a mirage, an illusion, a decaying thing of beauty. Is it there or is it not? And as such it is best savoured intellectually and with all our senses on the alert.

Notes for Aftelier Sepia:

Top: blood cedarwood, yellow mandarin, pink grapefruit

Middle: pink lotus, strawberry, jasmine grandiflorum, cocoa, coffee

Base: flowering tobacco, oud, indole, ambergris, cepes, labdanum


Sepia is available in liquid parfum (1.4oz), EDP spray and sample spray atomizer, mini bottle and liquid sample vial directly through the Aftelier site. 

Sonoma Scent Studio Fig Tree: Fragrance review

To say I am rather competent to judge a realistic fig or fig tree scent is an understatement, and that's not out of an overinflated ego. To reprise a popular olive oil commerical "I'm Greek, I should know!" Legion are the times I sought solace under the fig tree's thick shadows in the schorching summery heat; one of them under the very ruins of the Knossos palace in Crete. I can eat the fruit by the pound, such is the gluttony those taut little sacks inspire in me. And I have seen with my very archeologist's eyes how our ancestors consumed these nutritious gems by the pound too: the tiny seeds are still visible within the fossilised excrement fished out from the excavated sewage system at Akrotiri, on Santorini island. Oh yes, I know about figs and the tree that produces them all too well.

It comes as no surprise that I was taken by Sonoma Scent Studio's Fig Tree perfume. A fragrance that you should put on "Anytime you need a smile" as perfumer Laurie Erickson advises and on this freezing cold day of January there is no more proper time to remind myself of the paradise that our local nature is nurturing under this very cold, hard ground. The nascent roots sprouting little stems as we speak, the foliage in the trees now washed by the rain and shimmering under the "sun with teeth", awaiting to become fuzzy and dusty again with the gusts of July, the fruits waiting to appear again and again in their uninterrupted cycle of life.

Fig perfumes usually strive for one of two directions: there's the creamy-lactonic woody progeny started by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti with her Philosykos (Diptyque) and Premier Figuier (L'Artisan) where the nuances can veer over to apricots (a result of the peach lactone used); or the bitter, greener compositions such as Un Jardin en Mediterranée by Hermès and Jean Claude Ellena, based on stemone, a leafy oxime ~technically methyl-5 3-heptanone oxime~which generally imparts a powerfully fresh vibrancy to green florals (narcissus, lily of the valley), citruses (mandarin and grapefruit) and aids to built fig leaves and blackcurrant leaves notes.
Sonoma Scent Studio's Fig Tree is of the latter persuation; not that the natural milky-smelling coconut facet of the fig tree does not surface in the fragrance, a glimpse of the "milk" which the fruit oozes if you pinch it when semi-mature, but the emphasis by the perfumer has been deliberately given to the leaves, the unripe green sacks and the bark, through what seems like a synergy of cedar and patchouli.
Fig Tree is powerfully green in the beginning, with that unmistakeable fuzzy dustiness of the fig leaf; as if a very thin layer of earth is at all times resting on it, now matter how much you wash them. This raw effect ensures the realistic interpretation. But the unisex scent develops over time, seguing to a warm, delectable heart when the creamy notes appear (never too sweet, just on the brink of coconut milk), and then expressing a sustained woody-amber note, humming rather than hissing the lullaby of an eternal summer...

Notes for SSS Fig Tree: green fig, lactones, cedar, vanilla, tonka bean, musk.

Available at the Sonoma Scent Studio fragrance e-shop.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Sonoma Scent Studio fragrances

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent a sample directly by the perfumer.
photo of fig tree via greekresort blog

Creed Spice & Wood: fragrance review

Creed is celebrating 250 years of family business apparently and therefore have issued the Royal Exclusives line: Notice the cunning use of Royal accolades for something completely new which surely can't have been commissioned by any royal personage? Especially since this is a release for the American market who is dazzled by royalty. We, Europeans have a much different view on them, having known them from all the bad angles, I'm afraid... Anyway, there's nothing wrong with a little bit of marketing on the part of Oliver Creed, so I won't insist on this minor point.

So after Sublime Vanilla,
Creed Spice & Wood marries two of the favourite themes of many perfume lovers, thus also hinting at an "old school" thematology. Would the material be treated in a such a way?
The inspiration was reported to be the pairing of Antony and Cleopatra and I couldn't but recall of the line about Marc Antony's sexual tastes which leaned "more to the molded cheese than the pure one off the cheesemaker's" as jotted down by Octavia, his 3rd wife and antagonist of his GrecoEgyptian lover. I guess Creed missed that part.

So, is it? Is it not? Who cares...saying that a fragrance was inspired by some perfume that Cleopatra or Marc Antony wore, or from fragments of anything that belonged to them, might cut it with the average consumer.

What matters is the fragrance itself. And alongside the promised spices and woods there is a more esoteric accord, which runs through some of the Creeds, a bit metallic, a tad salty. There is also a touch of a Cuir de Russie pungency, thanks to white birch featured, but nothing out of this world. The dominant wood is cedar, both austere and a little sensual, with a bit of that petroleum note which it takes in many modern compositions instead of the pencil shavings that we're accustomed to think of when cedar is mentioned. The base overall has some similarities with Aventus, a previous Creed fragrance with which it shares notes on paper, as well as Original Santal (a modern offering despite the "original" in its tag line), differentiated by the spiciness ~nowhere near Baie de Genievre alas~ which comes across as peppery-clove-y (iso-eugenol) and an abscence of sweetness. Overall, despite the expectations, it's a subtle, delicately warm fragrance without old-fashioned richness, more transparent and modern than anything; like they're pulling an Hermes on us, only with royal insignia to boot. I guess it works for the intended audience.

Parthian shot: Is it very masculine, you ask? Creed says: "Spice and Wood is the luxury asset hand made for men -- but also intensely enjoyed by women". Two birds with one stone, but of course!

Notes for Creed Spice & Wood:
Top: bergamot, lemon, Italian Court Pendu Plat apples from Rome
Heart: angelica root, Luxor rose, clove, desrt pepper, patchouli, white birch
Base: Egyptian iris, cedar, oakmoss, musk.

Creed Spice and Wood is available in Eau de Parfum in a 250ml/8.4oz bottle made by Pochet et du Courval with a spray mechanism for 550$ from the Creed boutique and soon from retailers who distribute the line. Erwin Creed, 29, seventh generation of Creed and its future head, visits the U.S. in November, upin which occasion he will make public appearances at Bergdorf Goodman and select Neiman Marcus stores coast to coast, presenting the fragrance to the public for the first time and signing bottles. Please see all the dates and places of Erwin's US tour dates on this article.

Pic by Antoine Helbert via Chateau Thombeau

Hermes Voyage d'Hermes: fragrance review

Hermès has gained the sense of olfactive consistency that Guerlain once had back in the day thanks to its head perfumer, Jean Claude Ellena. Their latest unisex, Voyage d'Hermès , is a recapitulation, a déjà vu and a voyage not only through the body of work of Jean Claude himself, but of the house of Hermès as an entity! It's as if Voyage is a passport into the world of Hermès: Small little snippets of numerous fragrances hide beneath a hazy cloud of a formula that must have been laborious to construct without falling apart. Yet what has Jean Claude succeeded in doing, at this point in his career, is creating his own syntax and his own vocabulary for communicating which translates as perfectly leggible and intermixable, even in snippets of conversation that all mingle together harmoniously.

In order to appreciate Voyage d'Hermès on whether it succeeds to convey the vision behind it, we need to access the perfumer's technique in rapport with the values dictated by a mass-marketed but still prestigious Hermès fragrance such as Voyage.

Starting by the latter, we're "stumbling" on the mega-success of Terre d'Hermès, a masculine which is -according to the month in question- the first or second best-selling fragrance in France and terribly popular throughout the world as well. Its mineral & airy interpretation of the Mediterranean coast-line, full of fresh breeze, the whisper of citrus groves from afar and vegetal waste rotting on the hard rock, is the transfiguration of an lived-in impression into a scent (aided by a generous helping of IsoE Super, a synthetic which turns the intriguing aromata into a legible abstraction). A new mainstream release would not want to disrupt the commercial success of Terre, but at the same time, it should bring in women too (sharing thus the desirable facets of Terre) and consolidate the past and future of the house into the consience of everyone. In many ways, it feels to me that Hermès was simplifying its historical codes into an Esperanto of signs for everyone. To that degree they have certainly succeeded.

Ellena himself communicated his aim in composing Voyage d'Hermès, not as the desire to create a figurative or programmatic ~to borrow a term from music~ fragrance "but to create abstract art. A play on paradoxes. Complementary elements. No, this perfume would not smell of a kind of wood, a flower, a particular raw material, but of the unknown in all its glory. To express its nuances and unexpected pairings. Familiar, surprising. Energy, comfort. Masculine, feminine. An infectious mixing of genres. A woody fresh, musky fragrance." Ellena's style (and so is Olivia Giacobetti's in a similar vein) is the quiet, yet subtly intricate music for a quartet, rather than the bustle of a Wagnerian symphony with brass horns and full percussion joining. This is an aesthetic choice, not the result of simplistic or unchallenging incompetence. Comparing ~say~ a traditional Guerlain or 1930s Patou to a modern Hermès composed by Ellena would therefore be a futile exercise in omphaloskepsis. One either likes one style or not, but that doesn't mean that the two are poised on the same plane of existence; they're actually poles apart.
In that regard, Ellena in Voyage d'Hermès is reffarming his signature touch and on top of that creates something that cannot be pinpointed into anything familiar in nature; because there are plenty of familiar accents in the formula itself, as we'll see.

Voyage d'Hermès feels like a composition created on two tiers: The first movement is a flute, oboe and glockenspiel trio, namely the grapefruit-citrus chord he excells at (see Rose Ikebana, Un Jardin sur le Nil, Terre d'Hermès, even Cologne Bigarrade) with a touch of icy artemisia (see Angeliques sous la Pluie with their perfect gin & tonic bitterness) alongside the spicy suaveness of cardamom (diaphanous as in Un Jardin apres la Mousson, yet also a little sweaty as in Déclaration). To that musical line respond clarinets of other spices: some pepper, some ginger. On skin the spices are much more pronounced on the whole, with a small sub-facet (pungent, even a bit leathery) that personally reminds me of Eau d'Hermès.
The second movement is constructed on a basso continuo (the Iso E Super, perceived by many as cedar, alongside an incredibly lasting cluster of musks) with a lightly underlining phrase by a viola, the floral note of hedione (or an analogous material) giving a nod to Dior's Eau Sauvage and an elegant amber-ambergris base recalling Eau de Merveilles. This second movement is most alike Poivre Samarkande from the Hermessences, with its overdose of Iso-E Super. Seeing as Poivre Samarkande is the uncontesatble best-seller in the Hermès boutique in Athens, Greece, ever since the line's introduction, it makes sense that Hermès wanted for a Voyage composition a formula that has already been OK-ed by a warm Mediterranean country: After all, the very term Voyage makes us unconsiously dream of vacations, doesn't it? The two Roudnitska homages (Eau d'Hermès and Eau Sauvage), on the other hand, are unifying two houses and two perfumers into one style uniquely its own.

This clarion call of style, ensured, affirmed, self-reliant, is the fragrance's moot point: It means that if you like previous Jean Claude Ellena fragrances, you will like Voyage d'Hermes. If you don't, there are very little chances that it will change your mind. It also means that if you have all the segmentated make-up-pieces in your perfume collection, you might not be tempted to sort out the Visa and buy the new fragrance. But seeing as this is a mainstream release meant for everyone, not just maniacal collectors, those people will be few and far between.

The bottle design is spectacular: pure Hermès, both classic, inspired by la petite maroquinairie ~and specifically the Evelyne coin purse~ but also subtly modern high-tech too, reminiscent of USB sticks to put in one's computer (formerly known as "travel sticks, because you took them along while travelling, is it any coincidence?) or of a shiny silvery iPod, blasting a daydreaming Debussy tune. The promotional video shows a bird flying towards a horse running in the sea, showing ice, desert and water: an analogy of the segments that the fragrance goes through as well.

Notes for Voyage d'Hermès: citron, bergamot, coriander, ginger, artemisia, cardamom, black pepper, tea, birch, white musk, amber and cedar.

Available in 35ml, 100ml & 150ml bottles, available at major department stores carrying Hermès.
For those registered on the mailing list of Hermès, please use this link to see the promotional video.


Music: "Divertimento for Flute, Oboe and Clarinet" by Malcolm Arnold with Meera Gudipati, flute; Steven Robles, oboe; and James Calix, clarinet.
Print by Nhyen Phan Chanh (1932). Hermes official Voyage d'Hermes ad.

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

Lily Bermuda Petals, Somers, South Water: fragrance reviews

The brand with the little crest is called Lily Bermuda and is (not so predictably these days) a Bermuda-based perfume house established in 1928. The people there are quite proud of the heritage, since they have been producing scents based on the essences that aromatize the air of the isles for a long time. The latest trio, reviewed here today, was conceived to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Bermuda: "Each fragrance was created to evoke a different time in the Island’s history since it’s beginning". I admit at least one of them had me murmuring tunes to myself under my breath with much gusto all day, so I am going to start with that and work onwards.

Petals is a feminine fragrance encased in pink packaging. If by "pink" you're left with the impression you'll be dealing with a Barbie-esque tutti-frutti cocktail from which is there is no escaping, think again. Surprisingly, upon sampling Petals, I realised we're dealing with exactly what the official information is promising: "a luminous fragrance, an alluring white floral bouquet, elegant and truly feminine".
Petals is feminine, no question about it, and although quite sweet, its tour de force isn't the sugar-tooth of bonbons, but the nectarous quality hiding in the heart of its white blossoms. Its appeal is like that of Natalie Wood at the time she was dating Warren Beatty. On me the citrusy fruit disappears almost immediately giving way to the rich flowers and the diaphanous base notes. In Lily Bermuda Petals the orange blossom is honeyed and layed on thick instead of fresh (think of the treatment in Fleurs d'Oranger by Lutens), the honeysuckle and oriental jasmine take on heady directions, yet the scent is not at all heavy although it wafts satisfactorily and lasts exceptionally well (all through the night on me and discernable upon waking up). Despite its "timeless" promotion, I feel it is instantly identified as modern, as it doesn't possess the dirtier (costus, real musk...) or earthier (moss, patchouli...) aspects upon which several classics were built decades ago. But it makes you want to break out a prom-like 60s dress and sing in front of the mirror "I feel pretty, oh so pretty; I feel pretty and witty and gay!" , which is rather priceless in its way, won't you agree?
Petals encompasses notes of: clementine, mandarin, night blooming honeysuckle, sparkling seringa, watery orange blossom, ylang ylang, jasmine sambac, white musk, white amber. Available in many sizes starting with 15ml/1oz (how utterly cute!)


Somers is a masculine fragrance in dark blue packaging. The name derives from a visit a long-time ago: "Sir George Somers taking his first step onto our fragrant Island and being enveloped in the natural odors of this picturesque paradise". Somers accordingly opens with refreshing notes of bergamot, Bermuda cedar and cardamon, wandering into delicious notes of licorice, black tea, nutmeg, coriander, geranium and sage. The finale is warm with gaiac wood, olivewood bark, incense, blonde suede and amber. Additional notes include grapefruit, orange blossom, ginger and vetiver. Cedar and licorice/aniseed form the main impression, which is interesting in its way, one contrasting with the other their austere and more sensuous aspects; nevertheless I was pining for that olivewood bark promised, which I so love due to my cultural heritage. It's a quite wearable and likeable scent and could be confiscated by women too as it has a cozy Lolita Lempicka vibe with a tad more woods and what smells like benzoin, but (perhaps because of that familiarity) not as distinctive as I would have personally liked. Somers is available in 100ml of Eau de Toilette.

South Water is a unisex fragrance in light blue packaging. Meant as a shared fragrance available in 100ml of Eau de Toilette to be splashed on for freshening up, it accomplishes that on the humid days we're facing still with the familiar, almost Pavlovian relaxing reflex of "suntan lotion smell"; that memory redolent of Coppertone, coconut rum and Cherry Cola with a spattering of sea salt right out of an ocean-dip clinging on skin still (Salty accents have formed quite a trend as we discussed previously). It's a bit more coconutty than I am comfortable with on a regular basis, but not to the point of it being sickening which is always a concern with that type of scent. I don't really smell fruits, nor is it too powdery as it would have been incured by the notes and I am sure it will be included in "beachy scents" lists in the future, I predict it will be popular.
South Water lists sun-drenched tangerine with ozone breeze, coconut milk, juicy guava, gardenia petals, cactus sap, sea salt and white musk. Additional notes include blackcurrant, aniseed, violet, orris, coumarine, vanilla and tonka bean.

The rest of the Lily Bermuda line includes~
For the ladies: Pink, Coral, Lily, Oleander, Jasmine, Passion Flower, Frangipani, Paradise, and Fresh Water (unisex), and
For the Gents: 32°N, 64°W (the topography of Bermuda obviously), Cedar, and Navy.

The fragrances (with some exceptions) come in various sizes starting with 15ml/1oz, making them especially handy to choose from! A Library sample box (samples are generously sized, I might add, allowing about three wearings easily) will set you back 25$.

You can see the selection on the official Lily Bermuda site which is very nicely designed and shop online.

If interested in sampling all three scents, drop a line in the comments and I will pick a winner!

In the interests of full disclosure, I was introduced to the line through a promotion. Natalie Wood pic via The art of staying up all night blog