Frederic Malle Lys Mediterranee: fragrance review

On Good Friday
weary I shuffle my steps,
at the weary light of day.
Lilies of spring I bring you
and lay upon your cross ~
tear-soaked friend,
First among the first.
~Nikos Gatsos, Days of Epitaph*

A different lily, a wearable lily
The astrigent and almost aqueous, saline opening of Lys Méditerranée in the Frédéric Malle Editions des Parfums line is highly surprising for those who have been accustomed to florist type lilies; crystalline and stark in their cellophane, premature mummies in dolled up sarcophagi, looking at you sterny and haughty, like stuffed owls out of Psycho. But wild lilies in the basin of the Mediterranean sea are routinely sprayed by the salty spray of the deep blue sea, gaining an overlay of odour that is reminiscent of cured meats, and of the contrast of sandpaper-like fresh roughness against the nose beside the intense, waxy petals spiciness.

Issued in 2000 and composed by legendary perfumer Edouard Fléchier, in my opinion Lys Méditerranée is definitely among the masterpieces in the line, as evidenced by my impressive finishing of a whole bottle of it during last spring and summer. It is an impressionistic composition capturing a moment in time and place perfectly: Easter lilies in all their rustic splendor, an affair of freshness and lushness entwined, a shady terrace on some villa on Patmos island or the boardwalk in Nice. Checking the fragrance notes, we know they got the paysage references right: lilies, salty water, angelica, lily of the valley and water lily, orange blossom even: Pure Med! White lilies were cultivated in ancient Crete and Greece, as evidenced by the frescoes in Knossos. The lily was revered by the Greeks as sprouting from the milk of Hera, queen of the gods.

Scent Profile
The ginger spiciness in Lys Méditerranée perks the nose, imbuing the lily bouquet with a convincing life-like chord, ginger lilies staying on throughout the arc of the linear composition; those who have an aversion to spice might find it too much, too floral but I'm not among them. There is a huge orange blossom note hidden in there and strong salicylates (naturally inherent in lily) which manage to imbue freshness rather than excessive floralcy.
The base exhibits a balance of muskiness, a very thin line between not quite clean and borderline carnal, without excessive sweetness or cheap tricks. In fact the delicately, musky-vanillic vegetal theme recalls to mind the feeling of Vanille Galante in the Hermessences collection, also heavy on the salicylates. The style is comparable, even though Lys projects as a higher octave overall and seems to include jasmolactones giving an almost gardenia-like greeness. Comparing it with another pure lily scent, Serge Lutens's angelic and sublimely creamy Un Lys, I find that Lys Méditerranée is more intense, shimmering with a less cherubic cheek; less vanillic, muskier, saltier, a tad rougher if you will. And despite the freshness it lasts and lasts.

What is it that makes this great fragrance largely unsung then? Pure programmatic association. Perfume lovers have developed a keen displeasure against "marine" notes, vexed by the catapulting chords used on mainstream perfumery which hammered us with artificial "freshness" for years on end ~before giving way to tooth-decaying sweetness, that is! Time to ditch it for once, this is seriously great work.

Notes for F.Malle Lys Méditerranée:
Top notes: sea water, lily of the valley and ginger
Middle notes: angelica, lily, orange blossom and lotus
Base notes: vanilla and musk

Available as eau de parfum by F.Malle on their official site and at Barneys.

*translation by Elena Vosnaki

Fashion photo shoot on Patmos island, Greece, by photographer Camilla Akrans for T Style magazine of the New York Times, Travel supplement summer 2009.

Etro Gomma: fragrance review

Why is it that leather fragrances often produce the effect Frau Blücher's name does to horses in Young Frankenstein? Many otherwise accomodating perfume enthusiasts report some leather fragrances smelling pungent, sour or just outright harsh, admitting defeat and throwing the towel. But Etro, bless their joyful Italian hearts, have come up with the right answer for those cuirophobics: a friendly modern leather to eclipse fears and ignite desires instead.

Unlike "Blucher" which (does not) mean glue in German, "Gomma" means rubber and one would expect the "hot tires accord" and elastic that is purported to be at the heart of Bulgari Black (I say "purported" because the rubberiness of Black is actually quite vanillic and smooth to me, rather than acrid as one would imagine). There is a dose of it at the top in Gomma, but nothing to frighten the horses, if you will allow the pun.
Technically a "woody chypre", but more acurately an ambery leather, Gomma is among Etro's most successful creations, if only because it's distinctive (in the Knize Ten mould) and at the same time user-friendly. Composed by legendary perfumer Edouard Fléchier, it would be, wouldn't it? Not only does it layer well under simple soliflores, if you're after that sort of thing (try it with an iris or a carnation, or even better a lush jasmine to compliment its own floralcy), but it lends itself to easy wearing throughout the day and lasts rather well on my skin and on clothes, despite it being only an Eau de Cologne concentration. I can only imagine just how satisfying an Eau de Parfum version would be.

The secret of Gomma's success? A sheer pungent leather base that is more like birch tar (Cuir de Russie, Tabac Blond) than pike-harsh green quinolines (Bandit) and most reminiscent of Knize Ten (quite close in fact, although the Knize is brassier, fruitier, with lots of castoreum). But the theme is rendered via a diaphanous treatment with a slightly herbal-soapy tonality and a pleasurable sweet accent of indefineable white flowers. It's therefore the perfect leather fragrance for summer wearing or for the office without betraying the insouciant character that a cuir fragrance brings to its wearer: You won't stand out like a sore thumb, but you will leave others wondering what is that indvidual (and delicious) smell.
Staying power is average on the whole especially taking in mind the concentration, while warm weather seems to extend the sillage/trail left behind. And as to who can wear it? "I don't know if it's a masculine, a feminine or a unisex scent." the Non Blonde proclaims. I concur. Even inanimate things take on a new 5th dimension in it!

Notes for Etro Gomma:
citrus, artemisia, spices, leather, jasmine, amber.

Etro has revamped their packaging recently, making all caps silver instead of gold and rendering the boxes a graphic black and white instead of the old paisley (which I prefered). You can see both versions in the pics.
A 3.4 oz/100ml bottle retails for $165, on Amazon it's 143$ but sometimes it can be found discounted.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Leather series (everything about leather in perfumery & leather scents reviews)

Photo of old-style Etro Gomma bottle by Elena Vosnaki (click the pic to enlarge). Newer packaging via punmiris.com

Midnight Poison by Christian Dior: the clock strikes twelve

My subtitle might remind you of a great classic Blue Oyster Cult song, Astronomy and Parfums Christian Dior might be privy to the fact that it has awesome lyrics(click the link to read) able to convey poignant images.
And so Christian Dior proceeded with yet another Poison in the illustrious line, this time named Midnight Poison.

Among perfume circles the fragrances following the original Poison are usually snubbed. Conceived by nose Edouard Flechier in 1985, encased in a flacon the colour of bruise and with a name to entice you to bite the ordoriferous yet faulty apple in the enchanted forest, the original Poison acted as a hand grenade for the nostrils of unsuspecting passerbys, who were too often anaesthetized by the penetrating aroma of this mysky, fruity and oriental concoction. A great thing, despite appearences and the only person I met who wore it well was my dear mother. Probably because she only dabbed two drops behind each ear.

The following versions, Tendre Poison from the early 90s, a greener floral highlightining freesia, and the quite recent Pure Poison with its synthetic orange blossom opening on a bed of musk are fairly tame in comparison. Hypnotic Poison by nose Annick Menardo from 1998, a tripy almondy gourmand, has -for the amove mentioned reasons- its own fans and escapes criticism relatively unscathed.

However this new Midnight Poison has the most gorgeous commercial imaginable and Perfume Shrine considers it its duty to bring those things to you.
So here it is for your delectation:




Directed by Wong Kar-Wai and featuring the wonderful actress Eva Green (Vesper in Casino Royal but also famous due to Bertolucci's film The Dreamers and Ridley Scott's Kingdom of Heaven), it is stylistically superb, if a little gothic-looking. To which Perfume Shrine is not averse to, it might be noted. Of course the hanging from the chandelier puts a playful spin on this, so I guess it is not as gothic as it could be; let's say Tim Burton on a Mars Attacks budget.
References to the Cinderella fairy tale are evident in the depiction of a gigantic Dior clock that is about to chime midnight, the heroine running to the great "palace" to be in time, as well as the shot of the black ankle lace-up boots that adorn Eva's dainty feet. And as the countdown to 12 begins, we see Eva reveal a different self; a self that is brought about by wearing the new Dior fragrance, we infer, as drops of rain -or is it moondrops bursting?- are falling over her porcelain skin and raven black hair...

The song is Space Dementia by Muse, which I am taking the chance to remind you was the group whose song was chosen for the Insolence by Guerlain commercial featuring Hillary Swank. For some reason the line "You make me sick" indeed has a weird overtone in relation to perfume, but of course the whole concept of Poison was to assert itself agressively to the one smelling it, alluding to a dangerous sexuality that is confident in its choices.

What's left is the glorious midnight blue of the couture dress, the mysterious looking bottle, the majestic surroundings and a gorgeous campaign that should be met with an equally daring aroma "like acid and oil on a madman's face".

As to the latter I divert you to this perfume review by Cognoscented.

Clip by Youtube uploaded by museabusedotcom, pics courtesy of Dior campaign