Elizabeth Arden Green Tea: fragrance review & story

Elizabeth Arden Green Tea is one of Francis Kurkjian's timeless success stories, which built his reputation for effortless light diaphanous fragrances, in turn setting the record for his own Maison Francis Kurkdjian creations that sparkle and trail like gauze in the morning sun. Yet Green Tea is a case where one perfumer imitates another. 

 pic via pinterest

The sophisticated and intellectual Jean Claude Ellena created L'Eau Parfumée first as a room spray for Bvlgari boutiques in Rome in the 1990s, and as a stand alone fragrance around the world later. He came up with it while playing with Iso E Super and jasmine chords, creating an original accord that he called "green tea." He states so in his writings, that he chose the name because he was impressed by the Japanese green tea ceremony. He wanted to recreate that feeling of comforting serenity, that precious luxury, the one of seemingly endless time. Or at the very least of meaningful time. He was mindful before mindfulness was a thing. 

Ozonic with a green bamboo note, and lemon accords that do not bring images of classic Eau de Cologne, thanks to its green grassy shade, Green Tea takes you because of its name in the highlands of Darjeeling and Sikkim, on the backs of elephants. It perfectly makes me at once calm down and feel like the draining energy of intense heat is not a worrisome burden anymore. There is the promise of spice and botanical stuff but it's just that – a hint, a soupçon of a taunt, never fully materialized. It remains cool and collected, not passionate.

Delicate, fresh, drumming like light percussion, airy and tonic, Green Tea by Elizabeth Arden is welcome coolness in the heat, which is much appreciated for casual occasions and daytime. But if you're the type of person to eschew evening fragrances in the summer months, this could easily fit in your wardrobe.

It's also a startlingly good steal on online stores, demanding very little. 

Fragrance notes for Elizabeth Arden Green Tea:

Top notes are Lemon, Bergamot, Mint, Orange Peel and Rhubarb

Middle notes are Jasmine, Oakmoss, Fennel, Musk, Carnation and White Amber

Base notes are Green Tea, Jasmine, Oakmoss, Musk, Celery Seeds, Caraway, Cloves and Amber

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Will of the Wisp Chills: Fragrances to Give the Goosebumps

Although warm fragrances wear comfortably on the natural heat of the skin and provide an instant "aaah" moment, like wrapping oneself with a cashmere shawl, there are times when a cool, starlight fragrance manages to pique the interest, like the unexpected touch on an arm that gives you goosebumps. There are some cool perfumes to enjoy in the wintertime and there are some to savor in the warmth of summer when the icy effect can become welcome or eerie depending on your latitude and humidity levels. If you have a favorite, don't forget to add it in the comments!

photo by Whitney Ott via

Here is a selection of the latest cooling fragrances that I believe will speak to those who want to go against the grain and spook the hell out of themselves in wintertime.

I had written on Liturgie des Heures (Jovoy) the following letter to Santa in 2018. And he actually listened!
"And just because my little gothic heart rejoices in the gloom of the winter solstice and the ghoulish tales that surround it, do offer me a slice of the chill in this creepy, cold and lemony incense that rises smoky from the sarcophagi of the dead. There's some odd solace in knowing silence surrounds the air where the dead lie in eternity. And may it be a long time before we actually meet them."

There's also Eau Mage by Diptyque. Back in 2011 when Diptyque was actually celebrating their anniversary they issued their Parisian exclusive series in which a suitably Christmas-named Eau Mage (homage, you see, but also "the eau of the Magi"...) was the standout for my little self; fan girl that I am of abstract woody and sombre musky concoctions that make people wonder what is that smell they're smelling. The brand luckily for all of us re-issued the fragrance as Eau Mage yet again in their regular line-up. 

I can't forget the first time I tested Carat  by Cartier. I felt transported into a vast, fantastical tundra that would have wild, cool flowers growing amid the snow — which I fully realize doesn't happen — and with big husky dogs carrying sledges in the silent blue light of the north. A tinkling of wind chimes can be heard in the distance, or is it the dogs' neck bells chiming? Whatever it is, the cool splendor of Carat can be enjoyed in any season and mood; in fact, it's like a ray of sharp light which mellows slowly upon spraying on the skin.

An odd duck, Uralt Lavendel (Lohse) impresses me with how relatively strong and medicinal it comes across to me. I do have a low threshold for medicinal odor perception and anything mildly camphorous does give me a subtle alert. The green floral component in the top note reminds me of herbal bitters, a scent which I love, full of the piquant aroma of central European liqueurs and eaux de vie, such as Becherovka and Šljivovica. It smells fresh – an old-fashioned kind of fresh; bracing, really – with that kind of cool feeling that juniper berries impart. Compared with a contemporary take on lavender aimed mainly at women, such as Chanel's Jersey and Boy from their Les Exclusifs range, one can see how decades of musk use in fragrance has spoiled us into mistaking the scent of "clean" for something else entirely. If we venture as far as Guerlain's own Mon Guerlain, and in direct juxtaposition with their above-mentioned Jicky, one can certainly see how over a century of fragrance production has seismically shifted the notion of lavender in general. Perhaps Uralt Lavendel is a good reminder, a small snippet of how things used to be...

Ormonde Jayne PRIVÉ is a lush iris fragrance which recapitulates everything lovely about the Ormonde Jayne brand; the green shoots, the steamed rice, the cedar echo of the Iso E Super in many of their bases, an abstract modernity and at the same time a luscious, starched, luxurious orris note you can lose your heart into...The drydown, woody-ambery with a quite unisex flair, affirms my initial impression that we have a very lasting, refined silk skin scent that melds with the wearer. It's a polished cabochon gem rather than a faceted stone, its many different facets reflect the light in such a way that it smooths the impression into a ray of a beautiful serene sundown when it's cool.

Jean-Louis Scherrer (the original green liquid) by Jean-Louis Scherrer. A precious sight in its elegant, tall hexagonal bottle that opens up to verdant glory of liquid emeralds, it's a green scent with the rush of sparkling aldehydes. It then becomes intensely mossy and floral, recalling a bygone era of structured shapes and strict social rules. The violet note is mostly reminiscent of an iris fragrance, slightly metallic and otherworldly; but the brooding synergy with the other ingredients brings out a luminescent aura that is tantamount to wearing an expensive necklace of pre-Colombian emeralds set in antique gold.

The contrast of sandpaper-like fresh roughness against the nose with the intense, waxy petals spiciness is the pinnacle of masterful execution of a lily scent. The astringent and almost aqueous, saline opening of Lys Méditerranée in the Frédéric Malle Editions des Parfums line is highly surprising for those who have been accustomed to florist type lilies; crystaline and stark in their cellophane, premature mummies in dolled up sarcophagi, looking at you sternly and haughtily, like stuffed owls out of Psycho. But wild lilies in the basin of the Mediterranean sea are routinely sprayed by the salty azure which lolls and ebbs; they sigh. As sniffers of this gem would too...

Do you find yourself reaching for cool scents when it's cold? Why/why not and which? I'd love to read your experiences in the comments below the post. 

Acqua di Parma Ginepro di Sardegna: Growing Icicles ~fragrance review

If the popular ice princess Elsa from Disney's Frozen had a scent, Ginepro di Sardegna by Acqua di Parma would be it; the spontaneous eruption of icicles and snow flakes that come whirling at the flick of her hand is within the fragrance's intentional scope. There is one scene in the movie in particular that perfectly evokes for me the feel of the Ginepro scent: the other main character, Anna, alongside a comic snowman and the friend-who-will-dawn-as-boyfriend-material-in-the end (surely a time honored trope) enter a forest where ice curtains of icicles hanging from the tree branches tinkle in the frosty air like piano glissandos.

pic via

This goosebumps producing, intensely fresh yet at once highly spicy fragrance from Acqua di Parma feels like a slice of Iceland in the midst of a heatwave when wearing even a chiffon top over tap pants feels like too much. Perfect for the southern summers, then! The unisex fragrance is part of the mostly fabulous Blu Mediterraneo line which includes the unusual Mirto di Panarea, a personal favorite, as well as the ultra popular Mandorlo di Sicilia,  the light-hearted Arancia di Capri and the nicely introverted woody scent Fico di Amalfi.
Ginepro di Saregna (Juniper of Sardinia) recalls the now discontinued Cipresso di Toscana from the same line and no wonder since its basic aromatic "note", juniper belongs to the family of cypresses, trees traditionally tied to the Mediterranean paysage, part of which is the isle of Sardinia/Sardegna. I'm not sure if this was a move to satisfy the lost customers of Cipresso or a plea to new ones who are attracted by new, new, new.

Ginepro di Sardegna is immersed in the vigorous gin & tonic feel of juniper berries, bitter aromatic and  tingling on the tongue, coupled with the eerily cooling feel of peppery spiciness. The peppery effect is not unlike the one in Poivre Samarcande (in the Hermessences collection by Hermes) so I'm hypothesizing that the effects of a clever use of Iso-E Super perfume ingredient are harnessed for all their worth, especially since cedar is the main woody note to underscore the composition. The after-feel is quite powdery, a soft, dry talc impression (I suspect white musk).
Further than a mere parsing of smells nevertheless Ginepro di Sardegna feels the way a Brâncuși looks, seamless and polished. Not entirely novel, one might argue, but pleasing all the same.

It's perfect for a seaside holiday under the scorching sun, the same as it's perfect on a gray winter day when you look forward to the snowflakes.

Lovers of Angeliques sous la Pluie by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle, Navegar by L'Artisan Parfumeur, Poivre Samarcande, Bang by Marc Jacobs, Juniper Sling by Penhaligon's and Piper Negrum by Lorenzo Villorezi should give Ginepro di Sardegna a try. More traditionally masculine feeling than feminine (apart from that powdery touch at the end), but who really pays attention when the back of your throat almost closes by the, welcome, dry frost?

Fragrance notes for Ginepro di Sardegna by Acqua di Parma:
Top: juniper berries, bergamot, black pepper, allspice, nutmeg
Heart: sage, cypress
Base: Virginia cedarwood

Interestingly the strength of Acqua di Parma is that although it was bought by LVMH as an existing company (and we all know what that means for historical houses) the basic core was developed post hoc and therefore great attention to detail and clever marketing paid off instead of backfiring. Bravo!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Cool silken fragrances: Like Snowcapped Trees in the Ringing Winter Air
White Noise Fragrances
Acqua di Parma fragrance reviews & news

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

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

via birdytg.blogspot.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

photo by Johan Klovsjö

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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