Christmas '09 Gifts ideas: New Diptyque candles & solid perfumes

Three new candles by Diptyque come in a brilliantly coloured presentation Wycinanki, making them each a perfect Christmas stocking stuffer! The scents are:
Marrons Grillés (Roasted chestnuts): The scent mixes the gasoline-like Cade and birch to the sweetness of tonka bean and vanilla.
Benzoin: The benzoin essence is caressed by a charismatic patchouli and woody cypriol from India, sublimated by the darker and softwood cist, possessing the evocative power of a spellbinding journey.
Sapin de Noel (Christmas Fir): Its evergreen branches, emerging green accents and air from wormwood and galbanum, are colored by the intensity of sour eucalyptus.
190g/6.5oz, 50Euros each


There is also the limited edition for Xmas 2009 Coffret d'Hiver/Winter Coffret: 3 small-size candles in a thematic black and gold sleeve. It contains Feu de Bois (logwood fire) 70g, Oranger (Orange tree)70g, and Pin Sylvestre 70g. Retails for 65 Euros.

But apart from gifts to others, they are spoiling us with suggestions on gifts for ourselves as well! Solid perfumes in a metal box with the shiny black oval Diptyque engraved intaglio are now available in L'Ombre dans l'Eau and Philosykos, two of the brand's bestsellers. Makes for purse-friendly touch-ups through the day! (and a nifty idea for travelling too)
4.5g for 30 Euros

Massive Diptyque sale

New Yorkers have it good on what concerns Diptyque fragrances tomorrow and the day next. Deep discounts applicable on "dirty & discontinued" (only!) scents which will be sold at impressive price points (ranging from 40% to even 90% off retail price!). (You can see which scents are discontinued here). Please note NO phone orders will be applicable.


Where: 11 East 26th Street, Suite 600
Between Madison and 5th Avenues

When: Thursday, June 18th and Friday, June 19th
Thursday 9:30 am - 6:00 pm
Friday 9:30 am - 4:00 pm

info via blogdrof goodman and mua. PIc via Orpah magazine

Mythology Series: the Oak Tree

On occasion of the celtic lunar calendar day of the oak which is on the 10th of June, today I am grabbing this chance to introduce a new feature, the Mythology Series, which will fuse folklore, poetry and some of the most prevalent myths concerning aromatic plants.

The oak tree with its bittersweet timbre has been a symbol of stability and silent might ever since antiquity. It therefore comes as little surprise that it was attributed to Zeus, the mightiest of Gods. In Dodona, the sacred place of Zeus’s worship, where every summer ancient Greek tragedies and comedies are performed anew in its open-air amphitheater, oak trees that seem like they have been growing since the dawn of time reign supreme. Their leaves were crowning the winners of the drama competitions and the chariot races in the glorious past. Today they cast their welcome shade to the weary traveler who has been up the creek towards the ancient oracle, the second in importance in the whole Mediterranean after that of Thebes in Egypt. Legend wants it that two eagles, hatched out of the same egg, flew over the sea; one of them descended in Thebes, the other in Dodona, thus affirming the regal choice of these places of worship.

Contemplating the oak tree, one is transfixed by its hefty circumference, the long-extending branches full of wide leaves, the rough texture of the bark and the lichen that attracts itself on it (Evernia Prunastria or simply oakmoss), of which perfumery has justifiably occupied itself for long. It suffices to catch a hint of that mossiness in famous chypre perfumes like Dior’s Miss Dior, Cabochard by Gres, Carven’s Ma Griffe and Chanel No.19 to realize how the grandeur of the oak tree is lending a facet of that characteristic to the ambrosial parasite.

Conversely it is the fruit of the oak tree, βαλανίδι, which has been fed to swine for centuries as cheap supplement to their diet, and even the divinely favoured Ulysses had to witness his companions feed upon them when they were transformed by Circe into said domestic animals. The fuzzy green balls crack open under the nail with a surprising bitter herbal scent to later reveal the more familiar nutty aspects. And the association with might must not have escaped those who onomatized the inner edge of a male organ as βάλανος/balanos (etymologically derived from βαλανίδι)!

In celtic mythology oak stands as a gateway between worlds, or alternatively the vantage point where portals could be erected, while in Norse mythology it is connected to the warlike god Thor. But even in modern lore, oak has never lost its symbolic resonance that ties it with quiet power and mighty dominion. In Gone with the Wind, the tranquil, gentile mansion of Ashley Wilkes and his bride-to-be Melanie, where Scarlett is turned down thus catapulting the plot, is fittingly named Twelve Oaks. Throughout the novel it acts as the idealized place of refuge from the constant turmoil that the war has brought into the lives of the heroes and contrasts with the more cheerful Tara; the latter plantation like the female protagonist comes through thanks to its adaptive powers. When the old and majestic Twelve Oaks crumbles, it takes forever with it the dreams of the old, secure way of life for Ashley and Melanie...

In perfumery oak wood extract can be used to bring aspects of the imposing feeling of the oak tree into woody fragrances for men or women. with dry, liqueur-like accents. Now that oakmoss essence has been heavily rationed and synhetic approximations like Evernyl do not give an adequate substitute, oak wood extract, although less green and mossy, or even fougère-tinged is increasingly used, coupling especially well with wine accents, fruity scents and reinforces vanilla notes. This is how Serge Lutens used it in his Paris exclusive Chêne (French for oak) and in Miel de Bois. Baldessarini Ambré for men is another scent which exploits those facets to good effect. Oak also makes an ilusionary appearence as a top note, interestingly enough, in Eau de Merveilles by Hermès!

A fragrance which plays upon all aspects of the oak tree is Roxana Villa’s Q, a botanical artisanal scent by Roxana Illuminated Perfume, that is dedicated to the endemic oak population of the Californian woods with Q standing for Quercus, the botany name for oak tree (quercus robur). From root to kernel and from branch to bark, Q is anchoring and centering like only an afternoon below the shade of an imposing oak can be. But most importantly, part of the profits goes into the California Oak Foundation preserving that oak population, so that future generations can be ensured of a comparable experience. (You can find Q for sale here).
And when I try to recreate the austere atmosphere of the holy oaks at Dodona, I fall back on burning the old reliable Oak/Chêne candle by Diptyque, whose scent transports my spirit into a land of forever-living lore.

Pic of River Kalamas in Ioannina perfecture, Greece, via ellopos.org

Diptyque expands with L'art du Soin into Sensuous Voyages

One of the first "niche" houses, Diptyque was founded in 1961 by three friends into design who opened their first boutique in boulevard Saint Germain in Paris. Thanks to their candles (available since 1963) and their fragrances (available since 1968), Diptyque has known a growth that seemed unprecedented for such a small project and they have created a dedicated following for those who are in the know. It was indicated to me when I first began being interested in alternative lines that there was this "secret" little brand that had been issuing cult scents in Paris and that everyone who was anyone would travel to get some of them. This was before the niche "craziness" that erupted in the late 90s and the 2000s. Another source had intimated that Lauren Bacall was making an annual pilgrimage every December to buy her Christmas candles from them. Marisa Berenson, the 70s style icon finds there the "haute couture in candles" while Philip Stark "the most Proustian fragrances". It was enough to convince me and Philosykos, a fragrance that captures perfectly the smell of a Greek, hot, dusty fig-tree in late August, sealed the deal for good and opened the door for many other things to follow.
Now, after a business takeover in 2005 by private equity fund, Manzanita Capital who nevertheless kept Yves Coueslant and Christiane Gautrot, the two remaining living founders, involved, Diptyque has seriously spread its wings into a new realm: Cutting back some of their stock, adding other products and now expanding with their L'art du Soin into the aromatic body skincare, a segment that was missing.
The new line is the equivalent of a scented voyage to the Mediterranean and each of the five products corresponds to a different entourage around the old, beloved mare nostrum.
The creamy gel for bath and shower is inspired by Alep, the city of authentic, old-fashioned soap, and is redolent of the olive oil and laurel smells that so often form the aromatic basis of good, handmade soaps.
The body milk is refreshing, perfumed by the joyful orange blossom which takes us to Alexandria, an oasis ante portas of the scorching desert.
The rich body cream is an illusionary trip to Byzantium, voluptuous, decadent and oriental and ready to spoil us with the luxurious (and expensive) argan oil, honey and rosewater.
The hand balm is a virtual trip to Cordoba where the apricot trees are laden with blossoms and it utilises the rich oil of apricot, karite butter and argan oil to nourish, repair and soften hands that take care of everything.
Last, but not least, the bath and body oil is an homage to the parfumers et gantiers of Florence, where the gloves of the aristocracy were fragranced with iris essence. The delicate and elegant scent has been added to a mixture of nourishing macademia nut oil, argan oil and sweet almond oil.
All the scents co-ordinate with each other and can be layered at will.

But perhaps the most interesting part is that they are devoid of aluminum, synthetic colourants and sulphates derived from petrochemicals, making the green movement we had discussed when talking about the Honoré des Prés fragrances a while ago all the more Parisian and fashion-savvy.
With Mediterranean inspiration behind them, I can't wait to try them out!

Available from March '09.

Pic via Jalougallery

New Diptyque Candles: Patchouli, Roses Rose, the Basile collection

Diptyque might have discontinued some of their most interesting candles (and fragrances!) but they're busy expanding the rest of their stable with new additions. After the trio of hesperidic colognes (L'eau de l'eau, L'eau de Neroli, L'eau des Hersperides, all by nose Olivier Pecheux), which they issued last year, they are adding new candles in their lineup now.

"Patchouli: Its long blue leaves, steam distilled on tiny plantations way up in the hills of Indonesia, effuse a surprising woody scent.
The freshness of patchouli stems, humus and moss, wrapped in warm wood and resin. Deep yet luminous, it rekindles with its exotic roots and delicate accords.

Patchouli scented candle : € 47

The Roses Rose candle is nestled in a very British-style box. Its design is inspired by Liberty fabrics and pays tribute to the Diptyque founders who originally created textiles for this historic department store.
The Roses Rose candle is a mixture of antique rose petals and aromatic geranium leaves".

Roses Rose scented candle (limited edition) : € 50

The Roses Rose candle is timely coinciding with the shopping onslaught of the St.Valentine's celebration...

These come as an addendum to another Limited Edition that Diptyque issued a little while ago: the Basile collection of three scents (Amber, Scotch Pine and Briar Honey) which optically replicates the design of one of their first fabrics, in its turn based on the rich motifs of Byzantine architecture. The three scents, intended to make winter days and nights a little more luminous and warm, are as follows:

"Amber: The mystery of a substance so rare that Arab merchants once used it as a currency as precious as gold. The enchantment of ambergris with woody, leathery notes.
Scotch Pine: Being green in winter as well as summer is only one of the virtues of Scotch Pine. Its vigorous, resinous notes evoke the scents of a majestic pine forest and the freshness of the fleeting winter.
Briar Honey: It is difficult to find a sweeter, fruitier nectar. You almost feel like you’re in the middle of a moor full of fresh, scented briar".

Basile Collection scented candle : € 55 each

Pics and info via Senteurs d'Ailleurs

Withering and Dying

Diptyque is pursuing the discontinuation of some of its products: after the lamented axing of some of their most interesting fragrances, 22 candles go up in smoke -figuratively, as well as literally! Denyse has the scoop on which ones.

Yes, but is it original?

"Newness is in the mind of the artist who creates and not in the object he portrays.[...]What moves men of genius, or rather, what inspires their work, is not new ideas, but their obsession with the idea that what has already been said is still not enough."

~Eugene Delacroix, May 14, 1824

With this aphorism in mind, this past weekend I was contemplating whether perfumery still possesses originality. Originality in art manifests itself in both subject choices (what to tackle) as well as style (technique). The fact that perfumery can be an art form if the people behind it are so inclined is undoubted in my mind, as I had elaborated a few years back wondering what constitutes art in perfumery and what does not. I had also mused on whether post-modernism influenced perfumers. This train of thought was re-kindled by a comment on Denyse's Grain de Musc: the new Serge Noire is great, per our combined opinions; “yes, but is it original”? asked BillyD.

In The Thought Gang, the British author Tibor Fisher wrote that all ideas were covered by the Greeks long ago and we're merely rehashing the collectively forgotten. This is the conundrum of the artist: "I won't look at what has come before, I won't go to galleries or museums, I won't read or talk to artists, and thus I can't help but be original." Is this even possible? Is it even desirable?

Originality in perfume seems somehow unattainable today, if only because Serge Lutens has been so instrumental in the emergence of original compositions and niche perfumery in general, raising the bar high for others as well as himself.
Nevertheless the first niche lines were probably L’artisan Parfumeur founded by Jean François Laporte and Diptyque by Yves Coueslant and Desmont Knox Leet. The former started by issuing lighter compositions than the mainstream brands, inspired by nature and focusing on forgotten or completely novel ingredients (Mûre et Musc, L’eau du Navigateur, Prémier Figuier, Vanilia, Bois Farine) ; the latter, striding over the more picturesque scenery of Greece, coming up with intensely unusual compositions such as the herbal L’eau trois, the strange beast of L’Autre or Eau Lente, inspired by historical descriptions of the time of Alexander when such concepts were the Ultima Thule .
But it was Lutens that shrouded his craft with prestidigitation, a touch of Japanese aesthetics and the opulent tradition of the Arab world. The boom of the Internet made this small, elitist line with the exquisitely unique fragrances a cult item, prompting others to step their toes in the pond of niche. Some of them, such as Les éditions des Parfums Frédéric Malle had original ideas: acting as a book editor to a lineup of authors-perfumers who compose what they want without commercial restrictions. Some other brands capitalized on the new boutiques such as Aedes, Luckyscent and First in Fragrance, to issue their own less original paradigms.

Who bought all those fragrances?

Some ask praise of their fellows,
But I being otherwise
Made compose curves
And yellows, angles or silences
To a less erring end.

Thus delineated E.E.Cummings his desire to go off the beaten path in 1926. This was very much the mindset of the audience which Lutens first accosted in his foray into Les Salons du Palais Royal de Shiseido in 1992. I recall an article by Susan Irvine for the British Vogue in mid-90s which quoted someone who didn’t want to go out to dinner and have the waitress lean over smelling of the same perfume; therefore she went for niche! It seemed that there was both an elitist and snobbish streak running through.
And although I have been a perfume lover as far back as I can recall, when I first immersed myself into the Internet world of perfume boards before the boom of perfume blogs in 2005 I remember it increasingly impressed me as if the more weird a composition was, the more devoted its fans were and the cooler they were perceived by others. It was as if an unwritten rule set the measure of sophistication as liking fragrances that would produce confounded whispers and raised eyebrows among the non-initiated. The hallmark of a cult, if there is one!
“Ohhh! Dust-on-an electric-lamp accord!” the collective frisson of excitement was palpable as we were reading the notes in Odeur 53. What had happened to Guy Robert's axiom that a fragrance must smell pleasant?
Other times it was the quest for the rare, the hunt for the pearl beyond measure, a fragrance forgotten by time, mere dregs at the bottom of a derelict bottle hiding in someone else’s attic and auctioned at exorbitant prices.
Soon brands cottoned up: they began to bring out fragrances both resurrected like Phoenixes from the ashes (i.e. Guerlain, Lancôme) and based on the most provocative or outré concepts (ie. état libre d’Orange, Le Labo, By Killian).

And someplace between this and that, myriads of brands issuing the 174th Ambre or the 48th Cuir and noses coming up with small cupcakes accord ~as if larger cakes smell differently~ we became jaded. The thrill of discovery was over. Have the niche brands stopped being creative and original or have we changed? I propose to you that it's a little bit of both. Releases in both mainstream and niche lines multiplied 50-fold in the last decade, meaning it was impossible in terms of time and brainpower to come up with something unforeseen; also, when one is sampling things more than actually wearing a constant rotation of favorites (which is what often happens to perfume writers and enthusiasts such as us), there is an amount of jadedness setting in. It is as if we know what we’re going to smell before we inhale, we know what we’re going to read before we lay eyes on the promotional text and as if we couldn’t really be bothered to hunt the new down anymore. There is ennui and boredom. Is it significant? Will perfumery suffer because of the waning interest? Probably not, judging by the fledging brands mushrooming up every day or the new Myrmidons banging fearlessly down on Aedes’s door, eager to sniff the newest this or that.

John Sloan wrote in Gist of Art in 1939:

"Sometimes it is best to say something new with an old technique, because ninety-nine people out of a hundred see only technique. Glackens had the courage to use Renoir's version of the Rubens-Titian technique and he found something new to say with it. Cezanne may have tried to paint like El Greco, but he couldn't help making Cézannes. He never had to worry about whether he was being original. Don't be afraid to borrow. The great men, the most original, borrowed from everybody. Witness Shakespeare and Rembrandt. They borrowed from the technique of tradition and created new images by the power of their imagination and human understanding. Little men just borrow from one person. Assimilate all you can from tradition and then say things in your own way. There are as many ways of drawing as there are ways of thinking and thoughts to think."

A thought well-worth keeping in mind for the perfumers and art directors of perfume brands. And for ourselves, as well!


Pics courtesy of mondino-update and manuelZx48K on flickr

Diptyque discontinuations...

LusciousCargo.com sent an email about changes to the Diptyque line they are carrying. Among the good news of introducing new products, such as the new Eau de Toilette scents (L'eau de l'eau, L'eau de Neroli, L'eau des Hersperides, all by nose Olivier Pecheux), there is the sad information of the house's discontinuing several of their beloved products. To stop producing something one loves is always a sad move and more so for this beloved niche house that dates back to 1961, and has kept me company for so long, either with their scents or their wonderful candles.
The Diptyque site is also under renovation, which means major changes are about to be made. Let's hope for the better.

From the Luscious Cargo email:

"Diptyque are introducing several new products this year, the first of them being three new Eau de Toilettes. On the not-so-pleasant front, the house has removed several categories from production. You will find complete details on our website but a few of the more panic-inducing include the elimination of: the 200ml scents (across the board), the Hair/Body Wash, many many candles, and the following EDTs (in both sizes): L'Autre, Eau d'Elide, Opôné, L'Eau Trois, Virgilio.
Read it and weep..."

I am sighing...Are you?

Pic courtesy of Diptyque

Labdanum: an important material (in chypre fragrances & not only)

It is well known to our readers by now that chypre perfumes are dependent on a strict formula that juxtaposes bergamot and oakmoss, interlaying labdanum and other earthy elements such as vetiver or patchouli.
Perfume Shrine has already focused on oakmoss extensively (click for relevant article), so the other important material that needed tackling was labdanum. And so here we are today, trying to examine some of its facets.

First of all, what is it? It comes as a sticky dark brown resin exudate from two sources: from the shrubs Cistus ladaniferus (western Mediterranean) and Cistus creticus (eastern Mediterranean), both species of rockrose. Rockrose forms the Cistaceae (or rock-rose family), a rather small family of plants reknowned for their beautiful shrubs, covered by flowers at the time of blossom. It consists of about 170-200 species in eight genera and those are distributed primarily in the temperate areas of Europe and the Mediterranean basin, although they can be found in North and South America too in some instances. The flowers themselves have a faint odour and are not used in perfumery.

Labdanum is a natural oleoresin but it differs slightly from other oleoresins in that it contains more waxes and less volatile oil than most of the other natural oleoresins.

There is an ancient background to labdanum, as its etymology reveals: lôt in Hebrew (coming from a semetic root) which means resinous herb, ladunu in assyrian, lâdhan in Arabic, ledanon in Greek and ladanum/labdanum in Latin. Egyptians used it in their Kyphi mixtures whereas the Hebrews burned it in their temples as incense, so it had a ceremonial character.
It is even referenced in The Bible (as Balm of Gilead): The Ishmaelite caravan coming from Gilead to which Joseph was sold, was transporting labdanum (Genesis 37, 25). Subsequently, Jacob ordered his sons to offer labdanum, along with other local products, to their brother, now an Egyptian dignitary:

"And their father Israel said unto them, If it must be so now, do this; take of the best fruits in the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a little balm, and a little honey, spices, and myrrh, nuts and almonds."

(Genesis 43, 11) {found through Bible fragrances}.

It is believed that the above refers to the resin from the Pink Rockrose as "myrrh", although the two are not interchangeable. Myrrh per se is mentioned in the Bible (Psalm 45:8; Song of Solomon 4:14) and is believed to have been a mixture of natural myrrh (extracted from a tree in Africa and Arabia, like franckincense used to be got as well) and the oleoresin labdanum.

The Japanese use labdanum today in their Neriko mixtures, used during tea ceremony. The tradition is alive!

The use of ladbanum in medicine is well documented. Its high content in polyphenols makes it an excellent food supplement protecting the immune system.
In ancient times it was used for its properties of protection against bacteria and fungi.

It is suggested that the Pharaohs used fake beards made of goat hair (from animals that had grazed upon the resiny bushes) for that reason, but also to surround themselves with an aura of distinction.
Greek physician Hippocrates prescribed "myrrh" (the mixture of natural myrrh and labdanum, as above) for sores and the Romans used it to treat worm infestations, the common cold, coughs, and some infections. Up to 3000 tons of frankincense and myrrh were transported each year during the height of Nabataean trade!
According to Cocker, J. D.; Halsall, T. G.; Bowers, A. (1956). "The chemistry of gum labdanum. I. Some acidic constituents" (Journal of the Chemical Society: 4259-62) and II. The structure of labdanolic acid" (Journal of the Chemical Society: 4262-71):

Labdane is a natural bicyclic diterpene that forms the structural core for a wide variety of natural products collectively known as labdanes or labdane diterpenes. The labdanes were so named because the first members of the class were originally obtained from labdanum, a resin derived from rockrose plants."

while

A variety of biological activities have been determined for labdane diterpenes including antibacterial, antifungal, antiprotozoal, and anti-inflammatory activities.

(Studies in Natural Product Chemistry : Bioactive Natural Products, Part F, Atta-Ur-Rahman)

Theophrastus and Pliny mention labdanum as does Herodotus in his Historia, in the book "Thalia" (one of a total of 9,named after the Muses):

"Ledanum, which the Arabs* call ladanum, is procured in a yet stranger fashion. Found in a most inodorous place, it is the sweetest-scented of all substances. It is gathered from the beards of he-goats, where it is found sticking like gum, having come from the bushes on which they browse. It is used in many sorts of unguents, and is what the Arabs burn chiefly as incense.
Concerning the spices of Arabia let no more be said. The whole country is scented with them, and exhales an odour marvellously sweet."

{*please note that the Arabs referenced by Herodotus are ancient tribes inhabiting the region called Arabia and not today's islamic populace}.

But then why the confusion with opiates? The answer goes back to the Middle Ages and Paracelsus. A famous medical preparation of his own -which included gold, crushed pearls and other ingrendients (Opera, 1658, i. 492/2), but with opium as its chief component. Therefore the term is now used for the alcoholic tincture of opium (q.v.). The name was either invented by Paracelsus from Latin laudare (=to praise), or was a corrupted form of "ladanum" (from Persian ladan), a resinous juice or gum obtained from various kinds of the Cistus shrub, formerly used medicinally in external applications and as a stomach tonic." (Source 1911encyclopedia.org)


Labdanum's odour profile is highly complex. It is balsamlike, with woody, earthy, smoky, and even marshy undertones. Some even desrcibe it as ambergris-like, or leathery and honeylike with hints of plum or oakmoss after a rain. Usually it is referred to as ambery, but it is mostly used to render leather or ambergris notes, the latter especially after its ban on using the real animal-derived material, as there were concerns about the ethical production of it from sperm whales from which it originates (Ambergris is therefore very rare and costly if ethically harvested and is mostly synthesized in the lab. Please read this amber article for more info).

Its complexity is one of the reasons it has fascinated people since antiquity and it has been reported to affect the subconsious in profound ways. Its aromatheurapeutic value is that it is grounding, warming and sensual.

The method of extracting it is unusual and highly entertaing at that. Herodotus and Pliny report that labdanum was collected by combing the beards of goats, which were impregnated with the substance. The goats graze from the branches and the sticky resin gets stuck on their beards. Upon their return, their owners comb the resin our of their beards and extract the resin.

Also a rakelike instrument with long strips of leather attached to it, which they drag across the bushes to collect the resin, is used, called ladanesterion.
To this day labdanum is still gathered in Crete by driving goats into the thick forests overgrown with labdanum bushes. It is difficult work as it is best done in hot weather, under bright sunlight in the summer months. Sises is a Cretan village near Rethymnon, where such work is done to this day (coincidentally also the area from which El Greco/Dominikos Theotokopoulos comes).
You can read amazing detail on this matter on this site by Dimitris Niktaris: Labdanum Gr.

Today modern production is mainly concetrated in Spain and is done through easier means. However there is something to be said about the small, manual labour of cretan production that is of top quality.
The modern method involves boiling the leaves and twigs of this plant in water and the gum being skimmed off the surface and mixed with other resinous matter, which sinks to the bottom of the boiling water, as the resinoid is unsoluble in water. The extraction of the crude or cleaned labdanum gets done with a hydrocarbon solvent, whereas petroleum ether is being used increasingly because it yields a light amber resinoid which contains the most wanted odour principles in high concentration: cinnamon base - (isoeugenol) and labdanum resinoid. An absolute is obtained by solvent extraction whereas an essential oil is produced by steam distillation.

In perfumery it is used in many alloys, chypres notwithstanding and mixes well with hundreds of ingredients, interestingly one of which is lavender, another mediterranean herb.
Labdanum gum may contain up to 20% water, but this should be squeezed off or cautiously dried off. When in its fresh state, it is plastic but not pourable. It hardens on ageing, even to the point of becoming brittle. However if it is so at room temperature, it should be rejected as a starting material for the processing of labdanum derivatives.
Its shelf life is about 36 months and can be used in 10.0000 % in the fragrance concentrate.

One of the fragrances that focus on labdanum is Le Labo's Labdanum 18. Tagged as an enigma, to be used by both sexes, it focuses on the mysterious ambience that labdanum creates, fusing animalic and warm notes that meld on the skin.
Other fragrances that are rich with the note (but no guarantees on it always being naturally derived) are:
Donna Karan Essence Collection Labdanum ,Monia di Orio Lux, Dia for men by Amouage, L'eau Trois by Diptyque, Rien by Etat Libre d'Orange, Andy Tauer L'air du desert marocain ~Click for review~ (and reportedly it will feature in his Incense Duo as well), Patou pour Homme, Tabac Sport by Mäurer & Wirtz, Boucheron Pour Homme, Capucci Pour Homme, ST Dypont Signature pour homme, Eau Sauvage Extrême by Christian Dior, Whole Notes a floriental from Canadian perfumer Lyn Ayre of Coeur d’Esprit Natural Perfume, Prada, Prada Tendre and Prada Amber pour Homme, Mathew Williamson Incense, Ho Hang by Balenciaga, Jacques Bogart One man show, Ayala Moriel natural perfumes Ayalitta, Autumn and Democracy and Anya's Garden natural perfume Pan ~click for review~ that features real billy goat hair tincture.

Pics from bojensen.net, ladanisterion pic originally uploaded by labdanum.gr

London Calling...part 4: at Roja Dove's place

When one is faced with greatness it manifests itself in no uncertain terms. Awe, amazement and a feeling of having tingles down the spine greet you upon entering one of the sacred altars of perfume, Roja Dove’s Haute Parfumerie on the 5th floor of Harrod’s, the Titanic of all stores: impressive, astounding in fact and certain to lead you to your doom. Financially speaking, that is.

Roja Dove is no stranger to perfume and his very special place in that Mecca of shoppers is magnificent. Formerly professeur de parfums at Guerlain (a title he gave himself, when they were at a loss on how to call him, as he is not a “nose” ~meaning a practicing perfumer) he is in reality a Roger who spelled his name the way it is pronounced in a heavy-set aristocratic English accent.
Haute Parfumerie was a concept near and dear to his heart, as it is meant to work like a museum and a shop combined: among the myriads of vintage bottles in opulent Bacarrat crystals there are many recreations and infinitesimal versions of favourite smells for customers to pick and choose, so that they are guaranteed to find their perfect holy grail scent or just the latest fling with which to dance the night away. All subject to their taste.

The grand staircase that recalls an Egyptian tomb fit for a Pharaoh in a modern version of Liz Taylor’s "Cleopatra"is nowhere near possible to describe without being unjust and the evocative lighting of the space is akin to entering a shrine to the high priest of perfume indeed. Rows and rows of vintage bottles with impressive names stand in aloof poise, among them the Bacarrat rarity Les Larmes Sacrees de Thebes (=sacred tears of Thebes ~fit for the Egyptian theme!), Nina Ricci’s discontinued classic Coeur Joie (=heart of joy), Ombre Rose by Jean Charles Brosseau with its rich powdery hay and oppoponax base or the individual Caron masterpiece of Ernest Daltroff En Avion, dedicated to aviation and its brave first steps. Indeed they do have many of the Caron urn perfumes: those are the pure parfum/extrait perfumes that the venerable French house only sells from big crystal “vats” at their boutiques by request.
They also have the rare gems of Christian Dior from the days of their illustrious past: Diorama and Diorling. They are too beautiful to dismiss in a single expletive, so they deserve their own space and time in the near future to which you will be treated shortly.

Additionally Roja has created some individual scents for selling there, as I found out for about £2000 a bottle. The price being prohibitive I was reluctant to even try them out for fear I might have to break down and put a little mortgage to acquire one of them. On the other hand he is also launching three more moderately priced yet quality superior feminine scents for the upcoming season (October to be precise). They are based around one fragrance family each and they are named Scandal (a rich white floral), Enslaved(an oriental) and Unspoken (a chypre).

Roja’s theory of why smell is so important to us is interesting though and worth recounting. He maintains that the part of the brain that deals with odour is empty when we are born and we spend the first years of our lives (well into our puberty and beyond, I get to understand) forming preferences and distastes. This might be the reason why babies and small children often do not have a notion of “bad” smells and they venture into skatole-filled adventures that would make us shudder. It might also explain why there are definite preferences in certain aromas when we grow up that we can’t seem to shake off: they just move us on a deeper level, reminiscing of our childhood experiences and memories.

Roja elaborates that this is what is called an “odour profile”, sounding very much like a special FBI agent intent on capturing a serial killer, and in a way, you might want to think that smell is a serial killer, the way it strikes again and again and again with shocking results every single time. This odour profile constitutes what we find appealing and what not and also pinpoints which fragrance families tend to attract us more, giving a glimpse into our personalities in the process. This also coincides with what Mandy Aftel has to say when creating a bespoke fragrance for a client, by the way. She maintains that you can judge somewhat the tendencies of a personality according to the basenotes they choose for their tailor-made fragrance: shy or conventional types go for vanilla; hell-cats go for hay or blond tobacco and so on.
It’s an interesting thought, to be sure.

To revert to the subject at hand though, Roja continues by elaborating on how to choose an appropriate scent for oneself, using the odour profile. First there is some testing to determine which fragrance family is most appealing in general. For general purposes this is three-fold, encompassing floral, chypre and oriental. It is essential to clarify at this point that this is not meant to exclude one from the other or indeed disregard the nuances of cross-pollination that very often happen across families. It is simply a matter of simplifying a basic tendency that might produce more recommendations that would be most suitable. It doesn’t mean that a person can’t very well enjoy certain fragrances from all those families above.
Indeed after establishing a preference, one then goes through a process of elimination and specification that involves smelling separate notes. This is done through the use of scented candles, Diptyque it was from what I recall, and they let you smell the glasses they came in and share your impressions, as those particular candles are single-note based. My own preference for Oak, Oeillet, Jasmine and Pomander resulted in recommendations of Bellodgia, Mitsouko, Bal a Versailles and Coup de Fouet. Oh, dear, I already knew that…, I inwardly think.
Still, the process is fascinating, especially as there is no divulging of what you are smelling till after you have proffered an opinion. Which maintains the quintessential factors of a good test: objectivity and no influence by advertising or packaging.
I highly recommend the trip!

Pic "Favourably inclined" originally uploaded by cishikilauren /flickr

Jasmine series: part 4 ~mellow jasmine suggestions

The fact that jasmine may take on a more sinister turn accounting for fecal undertones that leave many people with apprehension and dismay does not mean that jasmine fragrances have to espouse that aspect. It is perfectly possible to evoke a balanced approach which could project a soft, mellow and elegant disposition and could be more easily wearable for even the non die-hard jasmine fans. To this end today we are examining some suggestions that might fall into that category of mellow jasmine compositions.
The archetypal example of a smooth, beautiful jasmine that could be worn sufficiently well without evoking particularly dark tendencies is the perennial Joy by Jean Patou. It remains something of an icon in the status of luxe perfumery, partly due to its initial advertising campaign in the economically hard year of 1930, coined by Elsa Maxwell (“the costliest perfume in the world”) and partly due to its unparalleled standards of raw materials. Patou went to great lengths to assure us that 1 ounce of Joy demands 10600 jasmine blooms and 28 dozen roses to be produced. This would be not as impressive hadn’t those flowers been the venerable jasminum grandiflorum of Grasse in the south of France and the two crown glories of Damascene rose from Bulgaria and Rose de Mai (rosa centifolia) again from Grasse. The current nose for Patou since 1997, Jean Michel Duriez, is monitoring the fields and crops to ascertain that the end result rendered out of those two varieties meets the quality control criteria demanded by the house of Patou.

Whether the quality has gone downhill as with most commercial perfumes of today in comparison to the vintage is a matter of dire attention and discussion on several fora.
Some people have expressed a concern that the richness of the floral ingredients has been a tad jeopardized, however for what is worth Luca Turin insists that the quality of the end perfume remains unchanged and his info and sample batch comes staight from Patou headquarters. Since I do not have different batches of Joy to compare and contrast, because my bottles come from the mid-90s, I cannot speak with authority on the matter. The testing I have contacted in stores in different concentrations and places did not leave me with serious doubt as to the up keeping of the formula, however I repeat that I could not possibly ascertain this beyond any doubt since I do not have comparable material at hand from different eras; on top of that ascertaining when a particular bottle was actually produced is so very hard, since perfumers -unlike wine producers- do not label the production year on the bottle (which would make our life so much easier, had it been the case!).

In any case, Joy unfolds majestic proportions of floral grandeur with a nobility and restraint of hand that points to a very skilled perfumer indeed: Henri Alméras. Keeping the noble nature of the two focal points of the suite intact he garlanded them with the merest touch of honeysuckle, ylang ylang and tuberose, anchored by a very light sandalwood base which manages to smell opulent yet beautifully balanced.
It is my impression that there is a difference of emphasis on the two different concentrations of eau de toilette and eau de parfum. The former is characterized by a more pronounced jasmine intonation like a solo aria in the midst of a lively Mozart opera, while the latter is a bit more powdery with accents of rosiness that permeate the whole with a softness that resembles a Schumman lullaby. In fact the Eau de Parfum is repackaged Eau de Joy, which was a different perfume than Joy in parfum, per Luca Turin. Given my proclivities for jasmine and because this is an article devoted to jasmine, I opt for the eau de toilette, however both concentrations are sure to please the lovers of fine perfumes.
The parfum is assuredly more animalic in the civet direction (a wonderful characteristic and thus the one which I always prefer over other concentrations) and stays close to the body with an elegance that speaks highly of its aristocratic pedigree.

Next on the mellow balanced list is First by Van Cleef and Arpels. It has been adequately discussed on Perfume Shrine in Jasmine Series Part 2, so suffice to say that it is a very elegant and classy success. If you haven’t tried it, please do so and preferably in the eau de parfum concentration which highlights its attributes well.

Diptyque’s Jardin Clos is a jasmine buried in the plush of lilacs and the freshness of greenery of a churchyard full of hyacinths. There is an element of bulb wetness as if the grounds have just been rained upon in the early spring morning and some stale stems that go hand in hand with all cathedrals with cobblestone roads leading up to them; a distant whiff of a little spice like cloves on some parishioner’s breath. But oh wait! There I see some tourists coming up the tracks as well. They are dressed in jeans and crisp minimalist shirts, their hair in a modern simple cut, dancing round their faces; they are probably wearing L’eau d’Issey in discernible amounts.
Sadly the oakmoss does not temper the aqueous quality as much as needed.
I appreciate Yves Coueslant and Christiane Gautrot’s vision of naturalistic fragrances that evoke paysages and memories. It’s just that this one is not as distinctive as the rest of them in the niche category. On the other hand, if you want a fragrance that will not raise eyebrows from the non niche lovers in the general public out there I can’t see this one doing that. Unless we’re talking about people who hated L’eau d’Issey the first time around!
The official notes for it:
Watermelon, White Lilac, Mimosa, Hyacinth, Seringa, Hollyhocks,
Wisteria, Mignonette, Wallflowers, Daffodils, Virginia Cedar,
Oakmoss, Tolu Balsam
Official site here.

Ayala Moriel’s Yasmin is completely different: to mellow the animalic character of Yasmin she uses the even more daring cassie/acacia note that is dense and opulent! The combination is successful, paradoxically, because there is a firmly measured amount of it and the base notes of amber and sandalwood are never too loud, allowing the slightly greener ribbons of the opening enfold the little blossoms in a cheerful embrace. Out of all the notes there is the predominance of a realistic gardenia note emerging, which veers the perfume in alleys of nightfall lushness. But the mastery in Yasmin lies in coaxing this into submission so as to be the single blossom corsage on one’s wrist, not a big bright crown of blossoms on one’s hair.
The overall character is sweet and uplifting, bright and romantic like a summer’s sojourn on a Mediterranean cottage overlooking the sea, friendly laughs by noon, erotic strolls by night.
You can see her description and sample on her site here.

Linda Pilkington, the perfumer for Ormonde Jayne’s Sampaquita (based on jasmine sambac) turned her attention to more tropical surrounding. Although the greeting note of bergamot and grass might evoke the Sicilian landscape of comparably familiar Mediterranean memories, it soon mixes lychee fruity tones with an acqueous feel of water lily that manage to mix with other floral notes such as the waxy slightly lemony magnolia petals, the green of lily of the valley, the sharp and pepper of freesia and the softness of rose to become an exotic sweet mélange that is balanced and surprisingly subtle. The jasmine note is not particularly evident, which is a shame for jasmine lovers like me, but could make this an easy choice for those who prefer their jasmine more subdued in a supporting role.
The OJ site says the following:

"National Flower of the Philippines, literally translated as 'I Promise You', Sampaquita flower is a symbol of purity and fragility, coupled with fidelity and resolve. The scent opens with an unmistakable summer bouquet, bursting forth with sun-kissed lychee set on a canvas of bergamot, grass oil and magnolia flowers in full seductive bloom. The marriage of these elements, together with a dusky floral heart of sampaquita absolute, freesia and muguet, combine to form a fusillade of fabulous intensity. An inspired quartet of base notes, musk, vetiver, moss and ambrette seed, unify and harmonise this sensational summer scent".

Official notes:
Top notes: Lychee, grass oil, bergamot and magnolia
Heart notes: Sampaquita absolute, freesia, muguet, rose and water lilies
Base notes: Musk, vetivert, moss and ambrette seed
In fact it reminds me quite a bit of Patricia de Nicolai’s Juste une rêve, which is another tropical floral of the same proclivities or even of Chance by Chanel with the balancing vetiver base under the florals and the fruits over it.

In contrast Ormonde Jayne’s Frangipani Absolute, which is much more assertive and bold, with brighter accents, proclaims its presence for all to see. The start is all lemony and lime rind that is quite loud, while it progresses to buttery warmth like tuberose crossed with a lush juicy fruit and dying hyacinths in a vase; which is also a tad traitorous to the spirit of real jasmine, like previously, but oh well...
However there is no dark animalic tonality, neither is it light nor “fresh”, so it fits in the middle category designated for our mellow jasmine florals. The musky base with cedar accents is balanced and supporting, accounting for a tropical scent that will not induce nausea from too much synthetic sweetness which is a high compliment for this category of scents. If you ever venture in the jungle of a southeastern country, all humid atmosphere and animal noises heard in the background, don’t forget to pack a little bit of this too. I think it fits perfectly.
Official notes:
Top notes: Linden Blossom, Magnolia Flower, Lime Peel
Heart notes: White Frangipani Absolute, Jasmine, Rose absolute, Tuberose absolute,
Water Lily, Plum, Green Orchid oil
Base notes: Camber, Musk, Cedar, French Vanilla absolute
View the Ormonde Jayne fragrances at her official site


Jo Malone in her fragrance combining bag of goods has Honeysuckle & Jasmine. Completely true to spirit and name, this smells like those two summery blossoms combined at different intervals: honeysuckle opening, which is more pronounced, jasmine subtle heart and exit. Light and sweet, like a walk through summer gardens with those two vines climbing up the fence, sitting under the shade sipping freshly squeezed sweet lemonade. There is a woody note in the background too with the merest whiff of clean powdery musk for the finale.
It pairs really well with her Orange Blossom or French Lime Blossom for even more transparency; or if you want to be daring pair with her warm 154 woody scent.

See more details here


Next post in the Jasmine Series will tackle fresh and translucent interpretations of jasmine.

Painting "La Naissance de Venus" by Eugène Emmanuel Amaury-Duval. Poster from the film The Painted Veil courtesy of cineparmenos.gr

Incense week: 7.Pyrocaustic deep incense for Easter's Eve

 Editor's preface: If you haven't the faintest idea why a series of posts on incense scents mentions religious stuff and cultural associations, please refer to the first post of this Incense Week series to understand my concept. 


Here you can find post 2, post 3, post 4, post 5 and post 6 before final 7th post below.

Holy Saturday is the day between Jesus’ death and His resurrection, so the day is full of watchful expectation, mourning slowly transformed into joy. The day embodies in the fullest possible sense a joyful-sadness. On Great and Holy Saturday morning, the Orthodox Church commemorates Christ’s decent into Hades and the releasing of the souls of all who were held captive by death. An explosion takes place, the Hymns tell us that "Hades lets out a groan", as the doors to Hades (the otherworld of greek mythology) are blown open and the "locks and chains" used to imprison the souls are tossed aside and rendered useless as Jesus raises the dead and resurrects them all.

The hymnographer of the Church has penetrated this profound mystery through the following poetic dialogue that he has devised between Jesus and His Mother:

“Weep not for me, O Mother, beholding in the sepulcher the Son whom thou hast conceived without seed in thy womb. For I shall rise and shall be glorified, and as God I shall exalt in everlasting glory those who magnify thee with faith and love.”
"O Son without beginning, in ways surpassing nature was I blessed at Thy strange birth, for I was spared all travail. But now beholding Thee, my God, a lifeless corpse, I am pierced by the sword of bitter sorrow. But arise, that I may be magnified."
"By mine own will the earth covers me, O Mother, but the gatekeepers of hell tremble as they see me, clothed in the blood-stained garment of vengeance: for on the Cross as God have I struck down mine enemies, and I shall rise again and magnify thee."

Christ might also be seen as observing a Sabbath rest in the tomb.

What is even more interesting and justifies the choices of perfumes for this special day is the way Easter is celebrated in Greece in particular. Easter and the promise of resurrection were from ancient times tied to the pagan spring fests that celebrated the god Dionysus. However during the Ottoman occupation for all those long centuries, when religion was a binding force between communities, the meaning of resurrection got another nuance: that of an upcoming revolution against the foreign oppressor. The underground revolutionaries of the 18th century that were preparing the National Revolution that would start in 1821 were using the code words said on Easter’s Eve from one Christian to the other: “Christ is Risen!” (Christos anesti) to which the reply is till now “ Truly He is Risen!” (aleethos anesti). That promise of an up rise kept them going. And when finally they did easter was celebrated with gunsshots and fireworks and crackers and lots of noise, just like the tradition remains today almost 2 centuries after that to still remind us of the joy over the double resurrection: that of Christ and of Greece.


So on Easter’s Eve, there is one of the most characteristic celebrations of the nation: the midnight service marks the beginning of celebration as hundreds of crackers and fireworks burst in the cool night air for the people watching gathered outside the church, waiting to hear the priest utter the magical phrase: “Christ has risen!” and the bells starting to toll happily and loudly alongside the crackers. At that moment everyone kisses each other and wishes them Happy Easter with a smile; they light their long white candles and lanterns with the holy light which is brought out from the church. Hundreds of people in the middle of the night, cradling those tiny flames, the flames they are supposed to bring back home, to illuminate it with holy light, the lux that is so revered and so in the core of greek life, as it also recalls the Olympic flame which was lit with a mirror in ancient Olympia in honour of the life giving god Apollo.
A mystical happy procession of people walking back, ready to sit at the table with family and friends and click their red eggs saying those old code words of the revolution and eating the traditional dish “mayiritsa”, a very yummy soup made of lamb innards/guts (liver, spleen and lung) seasoned with dill, fresh shallots and onion in a juice of lemon and eggs; the official end of Lent.
You can get a glimpse and a recipe here.

On Corfu island in particular there is this popular tradition that is a sight for all foreigners visiting:
The most famous tradition is taking place all over the Island, in the Holy Saturday at 11 a.m. when the first bell of the First Resurrection is heard. At that time local people throw pots out of their windows, smashing them onto the streets below. Those special made ceramic pots, called "botides" can be more than 1 meter tall and they are filled with water to make a louder crash. The noisy custom lasts for 3-5 minutes and is watched by thousands of people, mostly tourists, as Corfu is the most popular destination in Greece for Easter holidays.
There are different theories about the origin and the explanation of this custom. The first explanation for the custom has a religious meaning, as a representation of the Evangelic books that refers to the resurrection of Jesus Christ with the words: "Resurrect o Lord and crush them as ceramic utensils". The second explanation gives to the custom a Venetian origin, as Venetians ruled the Island in 15th and 16th century : it is a variation of an old Venetian custom of new years eve, where they used to through old stuff from the window, so that the new year will bring then new ones. And the third one gives it a pagan provenance, as Easter time is the time when nature starts its new year and re-awakens after winter.(from www.panoramas.dk)
On the island of Spetses, there is a re-enactement of the victorious burning of the turkish fleet by greek revolutionaries, a spectacle of great interest.


For such a special night I have chosen incense perfumes that bear a relation with the night, with bonfires, with fireworks, with the joy of celebration and the awe instilled by the sense of remembrance.

Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque: Exactly the pyrocaustic smell of bonfires and fireworks, burned wood and light processions of people on the night’s breeze. Created by Olivia Giacobetti with the collaboration of John Galliano himself (who would have thought it of him?) and a great success in my opinion. Although technically a room spray, accompanied in the line’s catalogue by a matching candle, I have used this as a personal fragrance on the back of my hands with no ill results. At least I am still alive to tell the tale….
Deep, dark, smoky embers still illuminated from an inner spark, a little musty and with lots of backbone, it reminds me of the celebrations of midnight. The invocation of church is there, incense taking a turn for the bittersweet, lots of woody ambience, like standing with a candle close to freshly waxed wooden pegs (don’t tentatively burn them to see how they smell though if you’re to be thought of as a good Christian!). Dried bitter orange leaves like the ones scattered on the church floor for the congregation to pick up and get back home to put tucked at the backside of Byzantine icons with austere and spiritual faces. Completely unisex and individual for brave souls who want to venture the extra mile and raise a few eyebrows in the process. A favourite!


Messe de Minuit by Etro: Although this is traditionally thought of as cold and detached, I have noticed that it blooms best in warmer weather in which it reveals a herbal and spicy character that is not present in colder climes.
It starts very damp and musty and even citrus , with a scent that reminds me of raw pleurotus mushrooms left in the fridge for a while It becomes quite spicy and deeper with myrrh (or is it amber?) and sweetens considerably. And it also becomes earthy and “dirty” The incense note is not very evident as such to me. At least it’s not like any incense I am used to which I have described in Avignon. It doesn’t have that rich and resiny, sweet but smoky quality that I usually associate incense with. It is as if the remnants of incense smoke have settled down and been dampened in a old paleochristianic temple. No holy smell, no passage of angels, no spiritual elevation. On the contrary, this is an abandoned abode, a lonely place deserted by man and God that has been festering demons and evil spirits , unhealthy and perverse, vampiric even like a character from an Anne Rice novel . I can definitely see the face of the Antichrist in the background….
Which begs the question why pick such an evil association for such a day…Well, but it is the day of entering Hades after all. And the name which means Midnight service in French is exactly when I wear it, which makes it all the more poignant and introspective full of devoutness despite its intentions. Supposedly loved by Sophia Loren and I can understand how an Italian lady would also like this for those occasions.

Parfum Sacre by Caron: The modern take on what Or et Noir was in the classic line-up of Caron, as discussed yesterday and a bit more festive than the former, hence my inclusion of it here today. The bracing top of evident pepper and lemony tones give way to spices such as mace and cardamom with their middle-eastern ambience, while discreet garlands of rose, jasmine and orange blossom make a swift appearance, then surrender to the plush embrace of dominant myrrh and frankincense with lashings of civet, rosewood, cedar and a little vanilla.
In short one of the few Carons that like me because I do not get the musty rose accord that becomes insufferable on my skin. The whole smells mystical, sophisticated and quite elegant with a touch of the festive, a slight powdery feel like that encountered in classic Guerlains or Chanel fragrances. Really vintage in feel, because who would have thought this came out in the 1990’s? Terrifically long lasting in eau de parfum as well and with a sillage that remains good-mannered but will get you elegantly noticed. Recommended.


Top pic courtesy of trekearth.com, bottom pic by greekcity.com.au