Dior Diorella: the Peach, the Peach, the Peach is on Fire.

photo copyright by Elena Vosnaki

Read my fragrance review of Christian Dior's Diorella on this link.

The Truth About Patchouli Chypres or Floral Patchoulis: Not So Recent After All

Many perfume aficionados have noticed the ubiquitness of patchouli oil in modern fragrances; either in the form of the "fruitchouli" fragrance where the dominance of patchouli is given a sweeter overlay of usually berry fruits or in the form of the "floral patchouli" which we affectionately call the "nouveau chypre" (or "pink chypre" perfume). Technically nevertheless at least the latter is not as recent as all that.

via

In fact these so called patchouli "chypres" as many have suspected all along are not "true" chypres perfumes. Rather the dominance of floral notes plus patchouli and the relative lack of animal notes and musk places them in a slightly separate group which I had been meaning to tackle for a long whilte. That group however is none the less revered taking into account the many classic perfumes which are classified within it.

These floral patchouli perfumes have mainly become possible through the introduction of "luminous/transparent jasmine" in the late 1960s aka the Hedione ingredient which "reads" as fragrant lightly green air above the jasmine vine. The pliability of this material makes it the perfect bridge between the sweet medicinal-woody note of patchouli and the rest of the floral components. Indeed most of the patchouli perfumes with dominant floral elements are fitting neatly into the 1970s and 1980s slot: Diorella (1972). Aromatics Elixir (1972). Coriandre (1973). Paloma Picasso (1984). Knowing (1988).

If you think about it the "nouveau chypres" with Narciso for Her eau de toilette being in the vanguard didn't deviate much from this path. The patchouli is "cleaned" up of its darker chocolate and peppery aspects but the woodiness prevails alongside a modern Amberlyn (ambrox) base and the overlay of sweet orange blossoms; a noticeable floral component.  White Patchouli by Tom Ford also divests of the dirtier aspects of patchouli and increases the white flowers antel it's a prime example of the contemporary translation of this concept. There is also the new Aromatics in White by Clinique; fittingly a flanker to the original Aromatics Elixir perfume from the 1970s. I have noticed that the use of "white" in the name lately has taken to suggest a sizable slice of patchouli in the modern style.

In what concerns the Diorella fragrance by Dior the main chord is built around Hedione-Helional-eugenol-patchouli. The fact that Helional used in 5% quota in the formula carries an airy and watery hint with it speaks volumes; it's no coincidence that Diorella works very very well in the heat! Especially combined with the copious citrusy essences on top. Hedione 10% and cis-jasmone 2% plus natural jasmine absolute gave the richness of the classic Diorella floralcy. Rose only played a very very small part in the original composition. A hint of peachy note was possible through C14 aldehyde. The softness of that note plus the airier-watery components conspire to give an illusion of melon to our noses.

Some of the basic components in Diorella are also taken unto Aromatics Elixir by Clinique though the formula there takes a turn for the rosier and darker without pronounced citrus notes. Helional and Hedione again combine with patchouli as well as vetiver (for an enhanced earthy feel) and woody violets. The bouquet is further enhanced and "opened" with lily of the valley synthetics like the air seeps into a newly opened bottle of red wine and lets it "breathe". I always find that either Hedione or lily of the valley are the decisive "keys" with which a composition of formula unlocks its message.

I'm using the example of Aromatics Elixir to further discuss the likes of Aramis 900, Paloma Picasso and Knowing by Estee Lauder. These form a tight group of kinship. Not coincidentally the common perfumer at the helm of IFF and commissioned with the work for Lauder (Aramis and Clinique are both Lauder companies) was Bernant Chant; he of Cabochard (a more hardcore leather chypre fragrance) as well as of Aromatics Elixir and of Aramis classic for men. 

Knowing in particular is an undersung marvel and "reads" today as a very venerable authentic chypre thanks to its perfume-y powdery character. But its progeny must be traced into the floral patchoulis of the previous decade. Specifically Coriandre.

In Jean Couturier's Coriandre fragrance the key ingredient is the similarly jasminic Magnolione (comprising 20% of the formula) alongside 10%  patchouli. The rose base is founded on geranium making the trasition of Coriandre into a shared fragrance more easily imagined. The spicy top predictably includes coriander but also the intensely green "budding" note of styralyl acetate (the scent of budding gardenias) and ylang ylang. So it's again a floral aspect given a woody underlay (apart from vetiver and cedar ingredients there's also sandalwood; arguably the genuine Mysore variant back in the time of original launch of the fragrance.

The difference with Knowing is that the American taste for almondy fluffiness manifests itself via the use of heliotropin, while there is also the component of a white floral that makes its presence known: tuberose with its bubblegum facets turned up a notch.

In Paloma Picasso/Paloma Mon Parfum the perfume is saturated in castoreum which might trick us into believing we're dealing more with a hardcore chypre a la Cabochard than with a "floral patchouli" as we defined it in the introduction of this primer. But the thing with perception -and the point of this primer- is that it is influenced by context. In yesteryear's milieu perfumes like Knowing or Diorella were differentiated from the more tightly clustered classic chypres. In today's comparison with the syrupy fruities or even the "nouveau chypres" they seem like the end of the hardcore spectrum. Similarly the newer contestants to the throne appear like the emperor's new clothes whereas they form the distant relative to a long line of noble lineage.

If Francis Kurkdjian and Christine Nagel (both credited with Narciso For Her; Nagel specifically also the founder of the fruitchouli with Miss Dior Cherie) created something new, like Isaac Newton they must have seen further by standing on the shoulders of giants.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine:
Perfume Primers: Chypres for Newbies
The Chypres Series: History, Landmarks, Aesthetics, Contemporary Fragrances
Perfume Primers: Aldehydic Florals for Beginners
Chanel No.19: Woody Floral or Green Chypre?

"New" Dior fragrances? Les Creations de Monsieur Dior

Browsing the aisles of my local Sephora today I came across two new bottles of Christian Dior fragrances which made an impression. They're both decidely not new, but they were clearly presented as "new" with the matching light blue tags that Sephora puts on their just-arrived merchandise on the shelf. What's up? I decided to investigate.

One of them (and perhaps the most interesting) is the classic 1953 Eau Fraîche [click for review] of which Edmond Roudnistka himself had attributed as the ancestor of Diorella (Although popular notion wants Diorella to be the feminine version of the masculine Eau Sauvage)

It's intriguing to note that it never went away but it had become a scarce "secret" commodity to be shared among cognoscenti. Roudniska's agility in creating magnificent citrus scents (see also Rochas Moustache for its use of lime) is evidenced in the classic mandarin and rosewood accord of the original, and unfortunately the newest version is not quite it what it once was in its murky depths of chypre tonalities (The background of oakmoss has been cleaned up a bit). However it still radiates with a pitch that is both melodious and crystal-clear from both blotter and skin and is one of the best dry citruses on the market currently, so I cannot be but rather pleased for reasons I will elaborate on a bit.

The mania for Eaux Fraiches has taken the market literally by storm with Dior themselves (and therefore in essence ~no pun intended~ the giant LVMH) issuing an Eau (very nice) spin on Miss Dior Cherie, an Eau Cologne Florale version for their best-selling J'Adore and two classic Eaux, inspired by exotic locales: Escale à Portofino and Escale à Pondichéry. Several other brands, Hermès among them, also issue Eaux with increasing tempo, with Chanel Cristalle Eau Verte trying to inject a new classiness which ~surprisingly~ Dior just outbid! Clearly the market for eaux is thriving: My sunny Mediterranean soul cannot but applaud this rekindling of this centuries-old tradition of singing citruses from Sicily & Calabria which brings back to mind memories of my mother drenching my little hands with Eau de Cologne on just about any occassion, casual and formal alike.

The other bottle I noticed is the Forever and Ever, a limited edition sweet floral from a few years back re-introduced in 2006 in pink packaging. Its notes encompass ivy leaves, freesia, water jasmine, rose, almond blossom, geranium, vanilla, musk and ambrette seed.
This one remains as I recalled it.

So what's the deal?
The whole Dior line of classics is rejingled as Les Créations de Monsieur Dior with new packaging and apparently even newer rearrangements of the juice inside. I had predicted the reformulation hiding between such a move as far back as last spring (when there was ever so slightly a re-arrangement of the packaging) and here we are faced with it most decidedly. In the case of Diorissimo, Dioressence and Diorella (to a lesser degree, thank God) it bears rather ominous results, their complexity alightened. But at least not all is irrevocably lost!
Interestingly, François Demachy, head perfumer at Dior, has reorchestrated the classic Diorissimo into a new version of Eau de Parfum (to the original Eau de Toilette and parfum, latter of which is rarer and rarer) touted as "richer, deeper and intense, with a dominant jasmine floral heart note" (Without a doubt the IFRA restrictions on natural jasmine quota hint at the synergistic use of several synthetic alternatives.Both of the "new" fragrances are below a little 80 euros and come in big 100ml/3.4oz bottles, revamped in outer packaging, a uniform look which is the newest "dress" for all Les Créations de Monsieur Dior products (a niche "collection" idea): The box is all white with a big oval of gold circling the name in pink for Forever and Ever and in acid yellow for Eau fraiche. The bottles, coloured accordingly, are a slight twist on the classic bottle which houses the older fragrances of the house (Diorella, Diorissimo, Dioressence) and exhibits a faux threading in silver on the bottle neck which is quite elegant! This would be also quite handy when later on collectors will want to date their Dior bottles. Mark the year: Les Créations de Monsieur Dior came out in late 2009...

Addition: The line includes Diorama perfume in the same design, issued in 2011, and will include Diorling in late January 2012 as well.

Pics via Dior.com.

The Dior Chypres series ~1.the hidden force: Edmond Roudnitska

Edmond Roudnitska

Perfume Shrine embarked on a mission: to disect and discuss one of the bastions of chypre: la maison Dior in its former glory, when under the baguette of Edmond Roudnitska and Paul Vacher it produced classics that remain up there in the pantheon for all of us to worship.

Edmond Roudnitska is probably the one name you simply need to drop if you want to appear as if you have at least a passing knowledge of scent. Of course name dropping is completely ridiculous, especially when used to prove that someone knows anything about anything, but the practice does not diminish the value of this Ukranian émigré who started as an assistant to Ernest Beaux; the Russian perfumer to the czars who made the legend of Chanel parfums almost single-handedly. Did his apprenticeship serve him well? More than that.

Roudnitska became much more than an artist of high calibre in the fragrant galaxy or a point of reference. He also pondered theoretically on the subject of perfume through his prolific writing and his polemic to establish perfume creation as an art form, especially in his book “Le parfum” in the “Que sais-je?” series (now out of print), “L’ésthetique en question” and “L’intimité du parfum”. But the dialectic he inaugurated has survived in his dictum (from a speech given on 20 November 1952 in Paris):

“For it to be considered Art, smell ceases to be a sense to be satisfied to rather become a medium. Thus perfumes will be spiritual compositions and the public will be able to initiate themselves into olfactive forms”.

For him it is not the sense of smell or the materials that are important, but rather the spirit which, playing with forms, will coax the latter with the aid of the former. This point of view had been forgotten for decades when perfumes came out with the eye more on the commercial than the artistic, only to be revived when certain niche companies came into the fore dynamically. Roudnitska bases his axiom in the comparison to other art forms (as mapped out by Etienne Souriau).

“A beautiful perfume is the one which gives us a shock: a sensory one followed by a psychological one. A beautiful perfume is one with happy proportions and an original form”.

One criterion is the pre-thought-out process that precedes composition, contrasting popular myths about “happy accidents” (too much aldehydes in Chanel No.5, vanillin in Jicky producing the basic accord for Shalimar) and certainly the rumour that Jean Carles composed by instinct rather than plan. Therefore artistic perfume composition should focus in evoking odours in an abstract manner. In this he found an eminable successor in Jean Claude Ellena who composes with pen and paper at hand and not concocting alloys at some secret lab. Emphasis on the interaction of materials with one another is also highly regarded.
Additionally, perfume composition should be unique, much like a musical piece, and protected against “plagiarism”. To this he was adamant. He would be sadly disillusioned to find out that nowadays there are hundreds of fragrances that are composed with gas chromatograph and mass spectometer at the side of the unlucky recipient of a perfume brief from a big company: that is, to replicate a best-selling fragrance adding a minimal twist. This is where the education of the public comes into the fore, as well as the possibility of expression both personal and national or era-related through perfume.

Perhaps one of Roudnitska’s best known triumphs -alongside Diorissimo, the iconic lily of the valley fragrance- is the classic Rochas chypre Femme {click here for review}. In this he explored the concept of the fruity chypre with touches of aldehyde and powder rendering a fragrance at once opulent, alluring and elegant. Himself he renounced the moniker of “chypre” for it. In an article appearing in Perfumer and Flavorist magazine in December 1987, he describes Femme as

“floral, aldehydic and very fruity, with the double characteristic of woodiness and sweetness”.

This was due to the antithesis to Coty’s prototype but probably also due to a desire to differentiate from previous fruity exempla, such as Mitsouko. Roudnitska continued to produce scents for Rochas: Mouselline (formely Chiffon), Mouche, Moustache and La Rose.

But it was his meeting with Serge Heftler-Louiche, director of parfums Christian Dior that cemented his style and directed him into a lucrative business and artistic collaboration that lasted for decades and it is interesting to juxtapose the chypres he produced for them with Femme. Christian Dior opened shop in 1945 under the insistence of the businessman Marcel Boussac. A new perspective to fashion was brought with his New Look, which took women back to the era of crinolines, in a way, counter-revolutionising what Cadolle and Chanel had accomplished through the use of pliable materials that helped women become the men in their lives in all areas besides the boudoir. Dior envisioned women in more traditional roles, wasp-waisted like some Minoan goddess and with meters of skirt lengths that challenged the rationed days of the war:

"We were emerging from a period of war, uniforms, female soldiers built like boxers. I was drawing female flowers with soft shoulders, full busts, waists as slim as liana and corolla skirts".

Carmel Snow, editor-in-chief of Harper’s Bazaar remarked:

“It's quite a revolution, dear Christian. Your dresses have such a new look”.

The year was 1947 and Dior came out with his first scent, Miss Dior, as homage to his sister. Credited to Paul Vacher, based on a formula suggested by Jean Carles and reorchastrated by Roudnitska in 1992 in extrait de parfum, it is nothing short of a classic and the introduction of a big trend in the coming years: the floral chypre; but with an animalic twist down the line, of which more later on.
But it was in 1949 that Diorama, a fruity chypre perfume, was created by Roudnitska. With it he found a balance between complexity and clear vision that captures several olfactory nuances: spicy, floral, fruity, animalic and all enrobed in a sensual feminine dress. By this time he began simplifying his palette, making stricter formulae, with a mathematical precision that abandonded notes that served merely for the pleasantry of the senses, like heavy sugary ones, to focus on more spiritual endeavours using purer, strictly “olfactory” notes that aimed at the cerebral rather than the carnal; aiming at elevating scent from the instinct of the reptile cortex into the fully developed Homo sapiens membranes. Eau d’Hermès followed in 1951, all spices galore, and Eau Fraîche for Dior in 1953, comissioned and modeled around Coty’s Cordon Vert eau de cologne (in its turn by Chypre) and by Roudnitska’s own words the only true chypre version in the market (this was in 1993).
In 1963 Paul Vacher produced another chypre in the Dior stable: this time a leathery fragrance, Diorling. With it all elements fall into place into a supreme elegance that is as buttery smooth as the fur of an alpaca coat.

Roudnitska’s most successful –commercially certainly! - scent entered the scene in 1966: Eau Sauvage. A chyprish citrus for men with the daring floral note of jasmine through the use of hedione. In this Roudnitska culminated his aesthetic odyssey of the sparseness of composition with an artistic merit that defies criticism. Diorella (1972), with its foot in the fruity tradition of Diorama, was the feminine chypre counterpart to Eau Sauvage, enigmatically relying on very few materials to give a very fresh, very young fragrance and which Roudnitska himself considered one of the best in his career. Dior Dior, a woody floral perfume, issued in 1976, never took off commercially and was destined to be discontinued till now.

Luckily Diorama and Diorling, two of the pre-eminent chypres in the Dior constellation have been re-issued and will be reviewed shortly along with the other Dior chypres.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: 
The Dior series, fragrance reviews of classic perfumes




Pic of E.Roudnitska courtesy of artetparfum, Dior ad from parfumsdepub. Translations of quotes from the French by Elena Vosnaki

Chypre series 5: chronology and the zeitgeist

It has long been my opinion that fragrances do not merely reflect their makers' vision or the desire to attain beauty and harmony through an ethereal means such as the fume of a precious liquid. They are routinely shaped by the circumstances that define much of the popular culture around us; they take form from the spirit of the moment, the zeitgeist. Hegel would have turned in his grave hearing us applying his Philosophy of History term applied to fragrance, but nevertheless it always seemed appropriate to me. Because, if you really think about it, aren't scents the expression of cultural tendencies and the aspirational mores of the ethos of select segments in society?

Thus, chypre fragrances evolved through a particular cultural necessity that alternately dictated allegience to forces of cool earthiness, or feminine powderiness or elegant sophistication. Although chypres have been in existence since antiquity, as previously discussed, it is most fascinating to contemplate their evolution in the 20th century.

Contrary to popular perception, François Coty was not the first to associate the name Chypre with a particular perfume in 1917. Guerlain's Chypre de Paris preceded him by 8 years, issued in as early as 1909. Chypre d'Orsay was the next one to be introduced, in 1912. However it was Coty's that really took off and became an instant commercial success that created traction and a vogue for such heavy "green" perfumes. It was also the year when Caron launched their Tabac Blond, a daring concept at the time, encouraging women to smell like they smoke, considered terribly chic then.
It was the time before the Great War, when disillusionment had not set in and the introduction of the exotic, sensual mystique of the East hadn't budded yet. It would take legendary Mitsouko by, Guerlain in 1919, inspired by a Japanese heroine in the then best-selling novel "La Bataille" to do that. The success of Les ballets Russes under impressario Diaghilev's artistic baguette (who incidentally loved Mitsouko and used it on his hotel curtains) brought on the vogue for orientals in the 1920s, as manifested by the roaring success of khol-eyed Shalimar. Suddenly everything oriental hinted at abandon and sensuality, the forbidden territory in which "flappers", the independent women of the time, marched through with renewed confidence.
Chypres and tobacco scents provided also a backdrop for confidence and individualism that marked this new era in women's emancipation. Long pipes of ebony and ivory were often held in elegant hands that bore the glamorous manicure of the times and the dark lips that recalled Theda Bara. Molinard's Le Chypre was introduced in 1925 and in 1933 Jacques Guerlain launched Sous le Vent to capture the soul of artiste Josephine Baker, the woman who shocked Americans and mesmerised the Paris audiences. (You can read a full review of Sous le vent clicking here).
The leathery chypre of Chanel, Cuir de Russie, was brought out in 1924, using birch tar as the note that skyrocketed it into the realm of utter sophistication.

As the great Crash crashed hopes of affluence and resurgence for the masses,chypres lost some of their cachet in favour of more economical propositions, at least in the United States. However perusing lists of perfume houses from the perior 1919 up to 1949, we see that every one of them had some chypre fragrance listed in their catalogues. Obviously this was a family that was considered sine qua non for perfume makers. It was often that they married the classic chypre accord with flowers, such as rose, jasmine, carnation, heliotrope or geranium, to render a more feminine note.
Contrast this with today's world in which the name Chypre is associated with more obscure or niche fragrance marketers such as Vivienne, Scientex, Arys, Montale, E.N.Z., Peckinsniffs, and Patyke. They take the heritage of Coty's success with them, but they are not at the front row of fashion. On the other hand, maybe the lack of such identical nomenclature in commercial scents has to do with marketing strategies that point to the direction of more original names that would differentiate products from one another among brands (the fact that they are not that differentiated among the offering of the same brand, what with the flankers of 1, 2, light, summer etc. is fodder for another post).

In the difficult years of World War II, it was the genius of Edmond Roudnitska that saw the potential of a long forgotten vat of methyl ionone that smelled of prunes in the factory that he was working trying to find such exciting things as butter substitute and such due to the privations of war. Femme was the dense fruity chypre of 1944 that recalled an upscale confectionary shop and which became the first perfume of couturier Marchel Rochas, a wedding present to his beautiful young bride.
It is interesting to contrast this with the dyke-y creation of nez extraordinaire Germaine Cellier Bandit for Rober Piguet issued in the same year. An ox-feller of a leathery chypre, Bandit was inspired by the panties that models wore exiting the runway; which according to Cellier was "when they let out the best of their femininity". It is no secret that Cellier was a homosexual...
Bandit was a proud creation that unabashedly confirms the aloofness of intense vetiver and patchouli smeared on used leather and with the echo of moss and flowers in the background. One can picture it on an interesting woman or a daring man. They have to be so to begin with, though, and not hoping to graft the image onto themselves through perfume.

After World War II, chypres saw a reigning period again according to perfume writer Michael Edwards, this time in the guise of less orientalised variations that were removed from the mystery of Mitsouko and more into the powderiness or the couture elegance that was depicted in Ma Griffe and Miss Dior.
Ma Griffe was another post-War chypre, a true masterpiece by nose Jean Carles for the house of Carven. Very powdery dry and quite spicy thanks to the weird note of styrax, Ma Griffe managed to be assertive in its name (it means "my signature", but also "my talon") and supremely sparkly and feminine in its aroma. It marked the introduction of chypres into the arena of professional women. Those were not factory workers of the war or flappers; they were secretaries at the new firms; twin set in place, string of pearls and a slick of lipstick on impecably powdered faces. The psychology of those new chypres talked about women who earned their living by themselves, but did not manifest themselves as sexual predators. There is a sense of detachment and intelligence.

Christian Dior had just launched the New Look in 1947 that took trainloads of fabric to new heights of spending, in an effort to maximise fabric sales but also to inject a hopeful touch into the hearts of women who had bid farewell to the rationed days of the war.( It is an old adage by Yves Saint Laurent that in times of economic shortage couturiers use a bit more fabric to boost the market, whereas in times of economic affluence -such as the 60s- the shorter length is king). Miss Dior became a best-seller and a crowd pleaser that managed not to sit on the fence, but to take an animalistic backdrop and smother it with soft flowers such as gardenia, narcissus, lily of the valley and green touches of galbanum and aldeydes. It spoke of a new elegance and a subdued sensuality that was not aggressive like that of the flappers, but more pedigreed and delicate, yet undeniably naughty underneath especially in the glorious parfum/extrait concentration.

Well into the 50s, chypres were popular. Jolie Madame was another product of Germaine Cellier, in 1953, that reprised the animalic, leathery theme; this time with very green and violety notes that cede to a big box of talcum powder. This is definitely a turn to the more restrained and professional as befited the times.
Cabochard for Gres by Bernand Chant in 1959 was more devil-may-care in attitude. Obviously there were different types of women to be catered for with the era's chypres and this one was destined for those who were powerful and dominant. Madame Gres said she was inspired by a trip to India. The bitter orange opening on spice and leather and the powdery depths beguiled and asserted themselves in the memory of anyone smelling it. Reformulated in later years, it has been irrecovably ruined, I am afraid. It is a pity, as it used to have a very individual character, hard to mimic, although it does bear some relation to another of Bernard Chant's offerings, Aromatics Elixir by Clinique.
In 1961, Guy Robert created Caleche for the house of Hermes, inspired by a fine type of carriage. The quiet resonance of this scent was completely in tune with the times, exuding copious amount of good taste while remaining tame with its sensuality under wraps; a cladestine affair was not in the programme, but should it ever happen it would remain a very well-kept secret. The sparkle of aldehydes mid-way between two trends, floral and chyprish, gave a fizziness that was also popular at the times, imbuing the whole with a feminine touch that was distinctly Parisian.

But the 1960s was a different time. Although they begun in the soft powdwery florals and the aldehydics, soon Mary Quant with the mini, the Beatles and the hippy movement and the ravages of war in Vietnam and the politics of the time swang the pendulum in another direction that meant another mentality in perfume. Nature and the smells of the body were explored in simple oils, headshop ones, such as straight patchouli and aromas that had a "pot" aroma to them. Clearly this was another page.

It was not until the 1970s when chypres dominated the perfume scene again, as a second wave of women's emancipation came to the fore. The kickstart was given by Chanel No.19, a fragrance that is traditionally classified as a green floral, created by Henri Robert for Coco Chanel herself (and overviewed by her from beginning to end), later to be publicly launched. However among the different concentrations one can feel a chyprish quality in the drier, more iris-vetiver rich eau de toilette, whereas the eau de parfum is rosier and more floral. In parfum/extrair concentration there is such dry depth that it re-affirms its position at the top of my list for elegant fragances for confident women. It seemed that it created an avalanche of chypres, dry, crisp and cerebral this time, echoing the new status of women who needed men "as much as fish needed bicycles".
Diorella was another legendary Roudnitska creation that remains enigmatic and minimalistic to this day. It begun as an attempt to capitalise on the trend of women wearing men's scents, which had started with yet another Roudnitska creation, Eau Sauvage for Dior. Diorella was to be the more feminine sister scent so that women could claim it as their own. Too crisp and fresh with its lemon opening and its fruity greeness for it to be really sensual, but an elegant insouciant fragrance for the young women who wore trousers and set out to rule the world. The latter image was best depicted by Charlie, that best-seller by Revlon (1973), which revolutionised advertising, depicting women in pants for the first time and focusing on the sheer power and confidence that it gave women who didn't need a man to be successful. It was trully revolutionary, at least conceptually!
Aromatics Elixir for Clinique and Alliage for Lauder (both in 1972), Coriandre by Jean Couturier (with the addition of a large percentage of magnolione, a material similar to hedoine but with more of a jasmine quality) and Private Collection by Lauder (both in 1973) and finally Halston in 1975; all saw this new trend take shape.
Interestingly Givenchy brought out Givenchy Gentleman in 1974, a masculine chypre full of pungent patchouli and a true masterpiece of calculated olfactory assault that married tarragon, vetiver and russian leather, showing that men could project the traditional assured image themselves still.

As the decade was coming to an end, the hyber success of spicy oriental Opium meant a new direction that would take the carnal and affluent capitalistic 80s into new avenues of perfume exhibitionism. The sophistication and powderiness of chypres took a backseat to such bombastic examples as Obsession, Giorgio and Poison.
However they did not completely disappear, with cerebral examples that encompassed Ungaro's rosy bombshell Diva in 1982, Niki de saint Phalle (the 1984 creation of a talented sculptor famous for her snakes and bearing those on the bottle), Knowing by Lauder in 1988 (inspired by the smell of pittosporum smelled during holidays in the south of France) and La perla by luxe lingerie brand in 1986.
In the masculine field, Drakkar Noir by Guy Laroche was launched in 1982; a fougere scent (with borrowed elements off the very herbal chypres) that took the name of Viking ships to emphasize masculinity and which sported tangy verbena and lemon rind with a herbal heart of coriander, lavender and juniper berries on bottom notes of patchouli, sandalwood and fir balsam. It proved to be a bestseller in the corporate world of the Wall-Street-decade.
Nevertheless, the most memorable example of the decade in the category of chypres is perhaps Paloma Picasso, Pablo's daughter's foray into perfumery which was imbued with her unique, bold style and matched her Spanish roots and signature red lips: assured. It brought the animalic quality of castoreum into the vogue again interpreting it into a domineering personality that made Montana follow suit with his Parfum de Peau in the blue box in 1986, with its beautiful bottle inspired by the swirling fall of a winged sycamore seed as seen by a strobe light, designed by Serge Mansau. Magnificently intense and terribly potent it was perhaps the last chypre chronologically to make the aggressive mark.

By the 90s, things changed again as the baby boom took place and there was a regression to simpler things, a call to nature, a desire to leave urbanity behind and revel into acqueous and ozonic notes that promised the much longed for escape.
The chypres that came out then were mostly fruitier, tamer, sweeter blends such as the fizzy fruit salad of Sophia Grojsman for Yves Saint Laurent's Yvresse (originally named Champagne) or the underrated Deci Dela by Nina Ricci in 1994.
It was clear by then that chypres had had their heyday and consumers were opting for different things, terming chypres old-fashioned and almost archaic.

Yet this esteemed category has not uttered its final word. As discussed previously in The New Contestants article, "modern" chypres are out to take revenge for their illustrious ancestors and although they are markedly different than them, they are still a hope that the zeitgeist is again changing, favouring heavier, richer, more mysterious scents that demand a wink in the eye and a steely shoulder to cry upon. Let's hope that a return to truer chypres is not far off.

NEXT POST: a perfume legend gets reviewed. Stay tuned!


pic of Mitsouko ad from the 1960s originally uploaded on mua, pic of Diorella and Miss Dior ad from psine.net

Jasmine Series: part 2 ~the role of jasmine in perfumery

As we examined previously, jasmine is an integral part of most fine perfumes’ bouquet and the varieties used render their own specific variables to the end result. 
But why is jasmine so prized over other natural or synthetic essences? And why is it a staple of perfumery as contrasted with what the great perfumer Jean Carles termed “accessory notes”? Finally: can it be replicated?

To quote master Edmond Roudnitska in his essay The Art of Perfumery: “It is the natural product par excellence”.
There isn’t a composition that does not benefit from its inclusion as it marries well with all the other essences: it blends with everything and lends a heart-achingly beautiful tinge to everything it touches. 


Jasmine as a note and component in fragrance composition
Jasmine is a middle note in perfume composition, meaning it evolves in the heart stages of development on the skin which makes it tenacious enough to anchor top notes and swift them to its own trail, yet fresh enough to not outstay its welcome leaving behind its fragrant remnants subtly. Middle notes impart warmth and fullness to blends and they embody passion. It is no coincidence that they are called “heart notes”. They bridge the distance between deep, somber base notes and sharper, fleeting top notes.
To make this more scientifically correct we revert to Septimus Piesse’s system of olfactory octaves, on which W.A. Poucher elaborated in 1923, giving each note a specific “pitch” on the olfactory scale from 1 to 100. In this system 1-15 are top notes, while 16-69 are middle notes and 70 to 100 are bottom notes. Of course several ingredients share perhaps the same number in the scale. It so happens that jasmine absolute is marked as 43 in this system, along with tuberose and rose.
In evaluating the various unusual combinations between notes, jasmine has a particularly successful effect to the following notes: roman chamomile, coriander, geranium (which has a rosy dry out to it), spearmint, and of course rose and bergamot with latter which it forms the most classic accord of most grand feminine perfumes of history.

Jasmine absolute is rendered through this process nowadays:

“Flowers are placed on racks in a hermetically sealed container. A liquid solvent, usually hexane, is circulated over the flowers to dissolve the essential oils. This produces a solid waxy paste called a “concrete”. The concrete is then repeatedly treated with pure alcohol (ethanol) which dissolves the wax and yields the highly aromatic liquid known as an absolute. This method is also used for extracting resins and balsams and for rendering the animal essences, such as civet, musk ambergris and castoreum”

(source: Mandy Aftel, Essence and Alchemy)

Absolutes are more lasting and concentrated than simple essential oils and have a highly intense and fine odour profile. Therefore they are the most expensive perfumery ingredients.
In jasmine the concrete is also very useful, a solid reddish-orange wax, mellow in tone that can be used for adding smoothness and florancy to many blends.

As an aside, for those bent on acquiring some of the best jasmine absolutes and concretes, the following address is recommended:

Coimbatore Flavors and Fragrances
5/82 Palanigoundenpudur
K.Vadamadurai Post
Coimatore 641017
India

You can also contact aqua-oleum which is an aromatherapy site for essential oils, available in small quantities, run by a renowned aromatherapist.

Headiness, Indoles, Living Matter and other stuff on Jasmine
Jasmine’s inclusion in the white floral category of fragrances especially is almost self-evident. Tuberose, ylang-ylang, gardenia (synthetic, because the flower does not yield a satisfactory oil for perfumery) and orange blossom marry with jasmine to produce intensely narcotic and exotic perfumes that capitalize on the sultry image of those blossoms and make our head spin.
The magic of this headiness is indol/indole, referenced also in our Orange Blossom Series, a matter that is also found in human feces and which according to Paul Jellineck “reminiscent of decay and feces, lends orange blossom, jasmine, tuberose, lilac and other blossoms that putrid-sweet, sultry intoxicating nuance that has led to the sum of these flowers and of their extracts as delicate aphrodisiacs, today as in the past”. This is the reason why many people find jasmine animalic and difficult to stomach in large quantities in their perfumes, as they perceive a dirty note to it that repels them. In isolation, indole smells moth-ball-ish, camphor-like rather than poopy. 
A notable example is the majestic A la nuit by Serge Lutens for Palais Royal de Shiseido, in which all the aspects of natural jasmine from bud to rot are displayed like the faceted profile of a precious gem. A jasmine for die-hard jasminophiles. The use of many different kinds of jasmine from Egypt, Morocco, and India are all contributing to giving it richness beyond that of a simple soliflore, intensified by clove, honey and benzoin.
It is interesting to note that indole cannot be synthesized successfully, as the synergistic effect of different constituents is lost. In similar attempts at the lab an unpleasant dominant fecal tone surfaces which makes it very hard to manipulate in an artistic composition. In nature there are minute amounts of materials that despite their exceedingly low percentage in the total of an essence they play a decisive role in the character of the entire complex.

In this regard we may also turn our attention to the most intriguing fact that natural essences, among them jasmine absolute, do photograph in Kirlian Photography, denoting possession of life essence or life force. Semyon Kirlian was a Russian electrical technician who in 1939 discovered a technique of taking pictures by means of electricity. His technique has been widely known as the photography of auras: the life energy that surrounds all living matter. The method uses a photographic paper or film atop a metal plate whereupon the object is placed. A high voltage current is then applied which records the energy field appearing as a bright halo around the object. Living flowers have brighter auras while as they deteriorate and rot the halo diminishes. It is intriguing to note that essential oils do photograph using the Kirlian method with different results according to the description of the olfactory profile of each: sharp, bright, heavy or soft and so on. So the claim of Roudnitska that jasmine is a natural per excellence which we quoted at the beginning of this article makes great sense. And it also bodes with Robert Tisserand’s dictum that natural essences “have a life force, an additional impulse which can only be found in living things”.
Jean Garnero, a Grasse chemist has this to add:

“Despite all the crises, all the economic challenges, all the competition from synthetic products, the perfume of jasmine flower remains one of the essential elements and sometimes the main pillar in the structure of the greatest perfumes”.

French & specifically Grasse Jasmine: Which Perfumes Contain it?
You will often hear brandished the term "French jasmine" as a denoting of superior quality. Grasse after all has been made famous thanks to its natural products, jasmine out of which is most notorious. The cultivation of the jasminum grandiflorum variety came from the Arab trade route. The Grasse jasmine is sweeter than most and more refined than the bulk of commercial jasmine essence that comes from Egypt (more than 3/4 of the total production comes from this area), India, Morocco and India (where jasminum sambac is the traditional product).
Due to extreme costs to obtain this precious extract only a few companies have been able to use Grasse jasmine in their perfumes. This traditionally included Chanel (who use Grasse jasmine in their extrait de parfum of No.5 and the rest of their jasmine-listing extrait de parfum fragrances) and who have bought their own fields of jasmine and tuberose in the region of Grasse, Jean Patou (who includes Grasse jasmine in Joy and 1000) and till a decade ago approximately this was also the case for Guerlain as well (who used Grasse jasmine in their classics, such as Mitsouko, L'Heure Bleue, Apres l'Ondee, and Shalimar extraits de parfum), but not anymore.

Replicating jasmine in perfumes

Ylang ylang, whose name means Flower of flowers, is generally termed “poor man’s jasmine” because its odour profile is not distanced from that of jasmine and indeed it has been used in many perfumes to back up the tonalities of jasmine, as it is so much less expensive yet still very beautiful: suave, sweet, persistent, creamy.
It makes a very pronounced appearance in such perfumes as the rich ambery orientals Obsession and Moschino original, Samsara ~ backing up the big beat of the jasmine-sandalwood accord, Tabu, Loulou, Organza, surprisingly Aromatics Elixir beneath all the mossy earthy elements, Kenzo Jungle, Escada by Margaretha Ley, Amarige, Giorgio, Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant, 24 Faubourg (in conjunction with jasmine sambac), and of course Chanel no.5 and Bois des Iles.
Ylang Ylang also has several grades of quality, first, second and third renderings of the oil, much like the production of jasmine tea that we described on our previous article.

Hedione or dihydrojasmonate, as previously mentioned, is an aromachemical that is often used in composition in substitution for jasmine absolute, but also for the sake of its own fresh and green tonality.
It lacks the clotted cream density of natural jasmine, recalling much more the living vine and for that reason it is considered a beautiful material that offers quite a bit in the production of fine perfumes. Perfumer Lyn Harris, of the brand Miller Harris and also the independent nose behind many well-known creations not credited to her name calls it “transparent jasmine” and attributes to it the capacity to give fizz to citrus notes much “like champagne”. (see? it’s not only aldehydes which do that!)

First used in the classic men’s cologne Eau Sauvage, composed by Edmond Roudnitska in 1966, it had been isolated from jasmine absolute and went on to revolutionize men’s scents with the inclusion of a green floral note. It was so successful that many women went on to adopt it as their own personal fragrance leading the house of Dior to the subsequent introduction of Diorella in 1972, composed by the same legendary nose, blending the green floral with hints of peach, honeysuckle, rose and cyclamen in addition to the herbal citrusy notes of the masculine counterpart, all anchored by a base of cool vetiver, patchouli and oakmoss, lending a mysterious, aloof and twilit air to women who went for it.
Ten years after its introduction to perfumery, in 1976, it was the turn of Jean Claude Ellena to coax hedione in a composition that exploited its fresh and lively character to great aplomb in the production of First by jewelry house Van Cleef & Arpels (the name derived from the fact that it was their first fragrant offering, but also the first scent to come out of a jeweler too ~subsequently many followed in its tracks with notable success). In it, Ellena used 10 times the concentration of hedione used in Eau Sauvage, married to natural jasmine as well as rose de mai (rosa centifollia, which is also a crystalline variety), narcissus, orris, ylang ylang and a hint of carnation with the flying trapeze of aldehydes on top and the plush of vetiver, amber and vanilla at the bottom which accounted for a luminous and luxurious floral.

Hedione also makes a memorable appearance in many other perfumes, such as the classic Chamade by Guerlain (introduced in 1969), Chanel no.19 (1970) and Must by Cartier (1981) and in many of the modern airy fragrances such as CKone, Blush by Marc Jacobs, the shared scent Paco by Paco Rabanne or the bombastic Angel by Thierry Mugler, in which it is used as a fresh top note along with helional.


Next part will focus on other aspects of the jasmine quest.

Artwork by Godward "The new perfume" courtesy of allposters.com
Perfume ad for Eau Sauvage from 2001 courtesy of psine.net