July Fragrance Selections: A Mix of the Cult and the Classic

The month of July started with a heatwave after a mellow June that drowned us in downpour and median temperatures. So action is required in order to wean through the collection and pick just the right stuff in order to pass the litmus test of 36C outside and pretty humid inside. I got the bottles out and took them for a camera ride. These are my personal selections for the upcoming days. Each one, a small story unto itself.

photo by E.Vosnaki©

 

Diorissimo (Dior) Les Creations de Monsieur Dior eau de toilette: The fairly recent bottle is an attempt to recapture the insouciance that the older classic by Christian Dior provided in its vintage forms in an easily replenished format. The experiment runs well so far, though I do miss the divine natural jasmine of the retro formulations (if you want to hunt for vintage, please refer to this chronology & dating guide for Diorissimo by Dior). The scent is of course the crispiest lily of the valley without scratching one's sinuses.

Y (Yves Saint Laurent) eau de toilette: 'The chypriest of them all', as I had written in a previous Y by YSL perfume review. Crisp, green, soapy too in a way, like some chypre fragrances can be, though it's a bit slit-eyed this one still possesses that ineffable good taste that Yves Saint Laurent used to be famed for. Now the brand is issuing things like hundreds of flankers of Black Opium and mocking its heritage. We know better.

Fleurs d'Oranger (Serge Lutens): Not too old, not too young, just perfect in that middle ground between contemporary and traditional, a potent yet fresh (!) mix of lush orange blossom and insinuating tuberose, likened to a heaving blossom. A true compliment getter too! I was stung by a bee, outside a graveyard, wearing this scent, one fateful Easter, and forever since I subconsciously seek to touch the sting spot when I wear it....

Passage d 'Enfer (L'Artisan Parfumeur): This was among my first incense purchases and it still remains a firm favorite for summer-wear (not that it does not shine in winter equally well). Passage d' Enfer gives me the eerie feeling of a trance-like session, lost in the spiritual reveries of a body ritualistically sprayed with all the lilies of the field. It balances on the edge of sanity sometimes, clean (thanks to the white musk) but mysterious at once, ethereal yet subtly odd, like an emo-goth type dressed in top-to-bottom white.
More on frankincense and resinous, smoky scents HERE and a guide with different incense scents HERE.

Rem (Reminiscence): Behold the aquatic that does not restrict itself to merely Calone, dihydromyrcenol or any of those nasty aroma molecules that have drenched the genre into the filth and mud of bad reputation among serious perfume lovers. This smells like a humidifier, a tiny bit salty too, with a faint whiff of algae and blanched vegetation (an odd byproduct of the tiniest bit of patchouli) and works perfectly in a tropical downpour as it does on dry heat that shatters asphalt. It's deservedly a cult fragrance in Europe!
For more beach-smelling fragrances for every style and taste, visit THIS link. 

What are YOU wearing this month? Please share in the comments and I will try to reply to all of you.

Serge Lutens Mandarine Mandarin: Mandarins and dragons, Fragrance review

The newest fragrance created by perfumer Christopher Sheldrake for Les Palais Royal de Shiseido and Serge Lutens,Mandarine Mandarin, has its place in the line-up of usual suspects for things weirdly appealing. A tradition that Lutens is keeping with religious zeal injecting a little je ne sais quoi in his compositions that keeps everyone guessing if this is an inside joke of a man of humble beginnings playing a nasty one on the bourgeois who flock in Palais Royal or the jarring string note of a genius quartet that is knowingly swayed by fervent feeling and not impeccable technique.
From the alarming menthol opening of Tubereuse Criminelle to the strangely pleasant unwashed intimates of Muscs Koublai Khδn, making a stop at the rough bitterness of dark chocolate and patchouli of Borneo 1834, his exclusive range especially is unconsolidated with weird notes of an alchemical nature that result in perfumes of distinct character and astute modernity.
Mandarine Mandarin has the edge smoothed a bit, making it an approachable and wearable exclusive for people who like oriental compositions as a rule.

An intelligent play on words, it alludes to both the succulent fruit with the tart aroma and the Chinese language/dialect of intellectual officials during the great dynasties of Chinese history and still spoken today. And indeed the fruit got its name because it was exploited by those high-ranking government officials in China (mandarins).
The limited edition bottle for Mandarine Mandarin depicts a blue Chinese dragon coiling around the familiar bell jar which is filled with a deeply orange jus. The official notes include Chinese orange, nutmeg, candied mandarin, orange peel, smoky tea, labdanum, tonka bean and ambergris.
It is available from Les Palais Royal Shiseido in Paris or on-line for people residing in Europe.

Mandarine Mandarin, a journey into the phases of a citrus, manages to evoke different stages in a mixed up sequence that defeats linear storytelling going back and forth all the while.
As the vial opens, it smells like scraping nails on the peel of a ripe mandarin, tart juicy aroma, lifelike in much the same way as L’artisan Mandarine tout simplement is, for the first couple of minutes. As you pick the fruit in your hand to unpeel it hungrily though the dark hidden side of it reveals it has spoiled, the particular rot of hesperidia left in a damp cool place for quite some time, matte green turning to grey-white skin smelling ammoniac-laden, almost repulsive. A dry tannic smell that subdues the candied peel which appeared in Le Myrrhe first (allied there to sweet honey, amber, jasmine, sandalwood, bitter almond and lotus, making it a sweet confection rather than the drier ingredient it is inspired of). The ambery depth of Mandarine Mandarin makes its presence known from the start almost and because it is very much an orientalised tale of places closer to the Middle East than the Far Orient the glorious addition of Arabian spices laces the vanillic fruity marmelade that ensues. And when you’re almost ready to think it’s really a play between sweetness and rot, life and death, maturity and old age, there comes the reminder of youth in the form of a radiant orange blossom note. Not wide-eyed innocent, nor inexperienced but with the mellowness of Fleurs d’oranger (notes of orange blossom, white jasmine, Indian tuberose, white rose, citrus peel, hibiscus seeds, cumin, nutmeg) and a whisper of its feminine seductiveness. It’s what remains on the skin poised for hours.


Pic is of the limited edition dragon bell jar courtesy of Autourdeserge.