Les Parfums de Rosine isn't removed from the romantic notion of fragrance as a pleasure, a smile, a memento to accompany the most beautiful moments of one's life. So there was nice building up for their wedding fragrance, the newly launched Vive la Mariée (long live the bride), without resorting to histrionics; the launch was discreet and the promises complied to the image we have of Les Parfums de Rosine.
In the immortal words of the Fiona character in Four Weddings and a Funeral to describe the love interest of the main protagonist, bride-to-be, Carrie (turns out, "to be and to divorce" and then "to love and not to be"): "Used to work at Vogue. Lives in America now. Only gets out with very glamorous people. Quite out of your league."
There is just something traditionally chic, even expected, about Les Parfums de Rosine and Vive la Mariée is no exception.
wedding dress by Christian Dior 1948 via hprints.com
Vive la Mariée smells translatable as feminine right away, the equivalent of tender décolletage heaving with the emotion of the moment, conforming to the notion of a woman on the happiest day of her life. It's rather easy to accept this warm, peachy-rosy vibe which recalls the best-selling accord popularized by Lancome's Trésor in the 1990s. Marie-Hélène Rogeon, head of Les Parfums de Rosine, who put rose in the heart of the line as the surest sign of femininity and grace, envisioned a soft, gently powdery, clean yet quite musky, heaving fragrance that would lend itself to the day but also to the days to follow. Whether you're going to like this balanced fruity floral fragrance (graciously done with one lump of sugar, not two) depends on your associations with this hugging (and huggable) "accord" that takes with it a hint of retro cosmetics' violet nuance.
Perfumer Benoit Lapouza (best known for his Fan di Fendi editions and Si Lolita for Lempicka, but artistically vindicated on ICONofly's art project Attache-Moi) folded fruity notes (of which they mention lychee and peach) into the clean brilliance of orange blossom and the detectable floral note of rose, garlanded by accent notes that act the way a beautiful flower arrangement compliments the blush on a woman's cheek. It's young, but not too young, if you know what I mean. The character of the scent is lightly sweet, even if a gourmand scent fantasy of praline, choux pastries and whipped cream is evoked in the press material; and that's a good thing (contrary to -say- Repetto Eau de Toilette with its misleading ad copy)
If past collaborations are any indication, Rogeon had previously entrusted Lapouza with Glam Rose in 2011. The parallels with this new fragrance aren't as far fetched as imagined, the two sharing a generosity of past glamor and emotional directness. The eau de parfum concentration is quite tenacious, providing a rich experience, but without risk of suffocating those who will come in the perimeter of a kiss.
For our readers, two samples of the new pefume will be given away. Draw is open internationally till Thursday midnight. Please leave a comment to enter the draw.
I'm starting with the really spectacular: We have a giveaway on Perfume Shrine, one winner will win TWO free perfume bottles of the newest creations by La Via del Profumo straight from Italy, one of Milano Caffé and one of Venezia Giardini Secreti (the first two fragrances in the new Italian Series). The draw is open to all till Wednesday 19th midnight and all you need to do is comment in the comment section below to be eligible. The winner will be announced on Thursday.
Now that we got this off our chest, let's concentrate on the gorgeous fragrances themselves!
La via del Profumo, an authentically artisanal line of exquisitely crafted fragrances, composed by natural perfumer Abdes Salaam Attar (Dominique Dubrana) in Italy, is proud to present the new "Italian Series," an homage to five great Italian cities (Milan, Venice, Florence, Rome and Naples) and the Italian country as a whole.
MILANO CAFFE
A sybarite fragrance needs the proper mind-frame to work and Italy with its languid climate and smooth contours of land naturally lends itself to it. The pervading and intoxicating scent of freshly ground coffee is one small part of this luxury of letting time slip by. The mingling of chocolate in the composition of Milano Caffé recalls the dusting of cocoa powder on the white "caplet" of a hearty and filling cappuccino, drunk leisurely with a view of the impressive Duomo before taking a stroll down the Via Montenapoleone for some serious window shopping. The Milanese are nothing if not sticklers for detail, from their dog's collar to their impeccable shoes, and I can feel in Milano Caffé the vibrancy of the elegant woody and spicy background which hums underneath the culinary notes of the top. Coffee is naturally a complex smell, comprised of caramelized & smoky/acrid facets on one end, of woody, like freshly sharpened pencils, on the other.
The dry quality of the fragrance despite the tonka bean and ambery richness elevates the composition into classic resinous-balsamic level; one mistakes smelling Milano Caffé for a full-bodied vintage that peels layer after layer after layer. In fact, what is most surprising is finding a hint of the cocoa-facet of orris and something which reminds me of the fluff, the flou quality of the resin opoponax, amidst the proceedings. This caress under the dark and bitterish flavor of coffee only serves to consolidate the infiltrating appeal of that highly prized bean, that elixir of life, the coffea arabica, cutting its slightly acidic character. Although the spicy woodiness might make Milano Caffé more conventionally masculine in direction, its richness and cuddly chocolate note makes it a great choice for the woman who doesn't follow trends but rather sets them herself. After all, it is no accident that coffee and coffee shops were seen as the nursery of revolution and of anarchy, and that both Ottoman Turkey in the 17th century and the Ethiopian church banned the exotic bean's secular consumption; it's that stimulating!
VENEZIA GIARDINI SECRETI
Venezia Giardini Secreti is inspired by the small "pockets" within Venice and the tales of the very popular in Italy Corto Maltese cartoon books, specifically "Favola di Venezia" ("Tale of Venice"). Venice is also the abode of Chevalier de Seingalt, more commonly known as the greatest womanizer of them all...
The solace of the shady gardens breeds flights of fancy and the escape of the intrigue of the political world: "When the Venetians are tired of the constituted authorities, they hid in these three secret places, these doors at the bottom of the secret passages opening to beautiful places and other stories ..." Whatever the story is, Venezia Giardini Secreti is redolent of the sweetly intoxicating scent of blooming jasmine and of rose blossoming in the summertime, allied to the mysticism and the marine signature of ambergris, an emblem of the naval tradition of "La Republicca Marinara".
In a way there is a kinship betweenTawaf, La Via del Profumo's jasmine fragrance from the Arabian Series, which is redolent of the jasmine sambac variety, rich, heady, like an aching pleasure and a call of beauty, and the latest offering in the Italian Series. And yet in Venezia Giardini Segreti the direction veers into less of a resinous floriental, with the anchoring of the base providing the softest pungency, an animalic hint more than a mysterious, apocryphal rite. For all the secrecy of the passages under the canals—which lead to gardens of a hundred delights and of the erotically charged tales of Casanova—the elegance and grace of Venezia Giardini Segreti is manifested in a touch of soft leather, a hint of motherly milk, a whiff of salty sea ...
The Fragrance of happiness!
A bride likes to choose a delicate fragrance. Vive la Mariée is a very feminine and subtle perfume, in harmony with the feelings she feels in her heart.
The floral composition of Vive la Mariée has been devised like a bride's bouquet.
Benoit Lapouza is the nose who has made this gentle floral scent, based on an idea by
Marie-Hélène Rogeon, the creator of Les Parfums de Rosine.
A gentle floral fragrance.
A harmony of flowers and green, made from bergamot, neroli, and lychee, comes to mind. This fades gently to allow the white flowers to appear. At the heart of the fragrance are jasmin sambac, peony, magnolia flowers and freesia accompanying the rose and orange blossom. Then, toned down but still there, are the happy scents of celebration.
Wedding cake, sugar almonds and little choux pastries can be found in the sweetness of the praline, the fruity sensuality of peach and the whipped-cream of vanilla-tonka beans.
The fragrance keeps its magical bridal train for us for the finish.
A procession of Patchouli, Cedar, Musk and Sandalwood creates a drifting note, unreal, which will be difficult to resist.
Vive la Mariée’s tender trail will make it unforgettable for brides, grooms and their guests.
Florals are never taken lightly in perfumery and even less at Le Labo where it has taken three intense years to add to the brand's floral chapter.
Le Labo is thus proud to present imperfect twins, the result of a long creative process and the birth of two new floral statements - LYS 41 & YLANG 49.
LYS 41 is an overwhelming white floral - a blend of jasmine, tuberose absolute and lily, bewitching in its noble, warm and sunny approach yet treacherous once caught in its web of noble woods, vanilla Madagascar and musks. LYS 41 rewards those looking for a statement with an addictive floral buzz that is as potent as its wake and as insistent as the people following you around. Good luck.
Lys 41 has been created in collaboration with Daphné Bugey. Daphné is one of Le Labo’s iconic noses, she is the perfumer behind Rose 31, Bergamote 22 and Neroli 36.
YLANG 49 is a chypre floral, where Pua Noa Noa (gardenia from Tahiti) completes the floral voluptuousness of ylang ylang... Patchouli, oakmoss, vetiver, sandalwood and benjoin follow to tip the blend into darker sensual undertones... Ylang 49 is a walk in the woods, a lush floral bouquet in your hand, listening to G. Gould's well-tempered clavier and realizing that a floral composition can go beyond flowers, in the same way a fugue in D minor is way beyond the D...
Ylang 49 was composed with Frank Voekl who was also involved in the creation of Santal 33, Iris 39, Musc 25 and Baie Rose 26.
15ml: €€45 (boutiques & online)
50ml: €€110
100ml: €€170
500ml: €€560
travel tube kit: €€105
travel tube refill: €€105
.
perfume oil: €€90
amulet: 57€€
ceramic oil: 37€€
body oil: €€50 (available in Fall)
body lotion: €€50 (available in Fall)
shower gel: €€38 (available in Fall)
Date of release: 8th June 2013
Availability:
Le Labo stores, corners and online:
http://storeinternational.lelabofragrances.com
A new city-exclusive (San Francisco), Limette 37, is also in the cards, to be officially announced on May 20th (my announcing post on it of May 14th has since been retracted at the request of the company)
Estée Lauder Honeysuckle Splash is another forgotten launch in the Lauder stable, much like Celadon and Pavillon, this time conceived by Aerin Lauder (the grand-daughter of Estée) and launched in 2000 with a mock vintage look. Although totally modern in literal terms, the bottle is a retro pastel pistachio green, as if reborn from the Technicolor 1950s, exactly similar to the one designed for Youth Dew, Aerin's grandmother's classic, designed 46 years previously. The name alone is full of promise: how wonderful would it be to be able to splash on one's self that delectable but elusive essence that fresh honeysuckle vines exude when you walk by on a warm, late spring evening?
The fragrance contrary to that dreamy picture was merely posing as an ancillary product to the main attraction, that season's makeup collection, code-named "Playful". Oh marketing of feeble faith!
The delightful blend of Honeysuckle Splash is deeply floral with the nectarous quality that honeysuckle is famed for (to the point that children in Europe sometimes suckle on the flowers) and a more lasting impression than other lovely honeysuckle fragrances in the market, such as Annick Goutal's Chevrefeuille and L'Erbolario's Caprifoglio. In Lauder's take, Honeysuckle Splash, the pink and white flower with the honeyed petals is allied to the dependable note of orange blossom for extending the white flower note and further accented with citrusy notes of mandarin, the smooth elegance of neroli and the romanticism of white rose. The slight suntan oil impression lurking in the back hints at the presence of ylang ylang and maybe a smidgeon of sweet vanilla. The irresistible elevation of the fragrance into the truly worthwhile however is accounted to the richness of the orange blossom note and the neroli essence, with what seems like a spattering of linden as well, which opens the bouquet and makes Honeysuckle Splash poised between clean and subtly intimate, with a realistic nuance of lush, waxy, honeyed petals; a very flattering reference to a woman who wants to be flirted by a man like a flower by a probing bumble-bee. Typically for a Lauder it had potent sillage and great lasting power.
Even though many young women are hesitant to give in to floral fragrances in the idea that it makes them look either more mature than they want or somewhat old-fashioned, Honeysuckle Splash has enough contemporary sensibility to not alienate its natural demographic. It's a mystery why Honeysuckle Splash was discontinued shortly after its release; unless it was a limited edition to begin with, though I don't recall this being mentioned at the time. Like one woman put it: "I haven't heard of any plans to bring this product back but if they ever do I will be first in line to stock up". It was around a period where another series of fragrances was issued (this time a definite limited edition thing), called Pleasures in the Garden. But for that another post, another day.
Much as Serge has always dwelled in the aesthetes of the 19th century, if there is one art movement of the 20th century which would reflect his innermost demons that would be German expressionism; the intensity of the play of light & shadow on the silver screen is a metaphor for the battle of good and evil. La Fille de Berlin, cool, powdery rose spiked with spices, and the latest Lutens fragrance in the canon, reflects the struggle of a soft feminine flower with the naughtiness of animalic winks; the two faces of Eve, which had fully prepared me to expect a Metropolis-rising Lang vision, real and artificial blurring. But I soon found out that Serge was influenced by Josef von Sternberg and his classic Der blaue Engel instead, not strictly in the genre but smack-down in the midst of it in 1930.
She's a rose with thorns, don't mess with her. She's a girl who goes to extremes. When she can, she soothes; and when she wants ... ! Her fragrance lifts you higher, she rocks and shocks.
~Serge Lutens
German Expressionism never left us, really. The angular, shadowed architectural specimens encountered in places like New York City, reflected in the fantastical Gotham of the Batman series, and the numerous homages to emblematic leitmotifs of the movement, such as in the films of Burton, Proyas and -to a lesser degree- Allen, merely prove that the juxtaposition of light & shadow (a more schematic carry-over from the chiaroscuro of the Masters) is as relevant today as it ever was. After all, humans are a mix of the two, aren't they? More apropos, Serge Lutens might be making a cultural commentary of our times, right in the heart of the melting pot that is modern Europe: much as Siegfried Kracauer's study "From Caligari to Hitler" examines the trajectory from this strained, anguished cinema images of the Weimar Republik to Nazi Germany, today's world in crisis with the darkness prevailing in fashion & design might be a reflective prologue to an even darker, more sinister era. Respectable professors turning into ridiculed and despaired madmen, the light of the blond hair of Siegfried eclipsed.
Let's hope not, but it's a poignant and potent omen nevertheless.
The metallic opening in La Fille de Berlin fragrance predisposes for the treatment withheld for rose in Rive Gauche by Yves Saint Laurent; chilling and distant, as if hailing from the tundra. But give it a few minutes in the warmth of a Blue Angel's skin, hot off the beckoning performance on the stage, and it turns into the softest, velvety rose with a cardamom impression and the tartness of a hint of raspberry. But even warmer things hide in the background with an intimate and dirty musk and civet allusion (so very familiar in the Lutens opus) surfacing to wrap things in plush and sex.
Those who have found Sa Majeste la Rose too green-fruity for their tastes and his Rose de Nuit marvelously creuscular but too elusive, would find a good ally in La Fille de Berlin. I find it more feminine than shared, but if like Serge himself, oh gentle man you're of the "perfume is a celebration" frame of mind, you might want to try it out for yourself.
Many state that Snob by Le Galion is a poor man's Joy, referencing "the costliest perfume in the world" ~as the Patou perfume was being advertised post-Crash~ as the litmus test for understanding the lesser known fragrance. It's all because Le Galion (Neuilly, France), a brand founded by Prince Murat and acquired by perfumer Paul Vacher, was engulfed by the passage of time; all but vanished by 1990, and its remnants vintage palimpsests crying out for a studious scholar.
If we simply go by Snob's name, nevertheless, the literal scholar might as well be in absentia.
It is perhaps as well that not many people are keenly aware that the word "snob" began as a notation on English colleges' records, notably Cambridge, of entrants who were devoid of an aristocratic strain circa 1796. "S.nob" supposedly signified "sine nobilitas", "of no aristocratic bearing". The exact etymology is lost on us, though it was originally used for shoemakers and local merchants. The lauded democratic inclusion of more people gifted in the head department rather than in the name & pocket department in those bastions of class distinction is of course the basis of modern civilization as we know it. Yet, that very distinction was not amiss to those who were participating side-by-side with those possessing "nobilitas" for many decades to come; hence the deterioration of the word to the one signifying the aping of aristocratic ways and its further decline into its modern usage of one who shuns anything they consider low-class.
It is this very element, re-appearing in a perfume name from 1952 and coming from an aristocrat originator no less, which makes me think that there's either a heavy-handed irony of the Parisian clientele choosing it or it was primarily aimed at the American market to begin with. If names of Le Galion's other long-lost perfumes, such as Indian Summer (1937), Shake Hands (1937), Cub (1953), and Whip (1953) are any indication, their perfumes were certainly not only reserved for continental Europe, but whether they succeeded abroad hinged on complex parameters as we will see further on.
Snob was composed by perfumer Paul Vacher, famous for his hand in the original Miss Dior in 1947 (with Jean Carles), and Arpège for Lanvin in 1927 (with André Fraysse), as well as for Diorling, but Vacher also worked for Guerlain). Snob is a "flower bouquet" perfume, a mix of several floral notes which intermingle to give an abstract impression in which one can't pinpoint this or that blossom. The rose-jasmine accord in the heart is classical for the genre and in good taste, with the opening displaying intense, sparkling, lemony-rosy aldehydes. The more Snob stays on skin the more it gains the musky, sweet & powdery timbre of classic ladylike Chanels, like No.5 and No.22. The fusion of vetiver and sweet musk plus orris gives a skin-like quality that remains oddly fresh, especially in my batch of "brume". The fragrance was dropped almost immediately, making it a rare fragrance collectible. The reason? Fierce antagonism with none other than...Jean Patou!
Parfums Jean Patou had registered a trademark for a Patou "Snob" fragrance in the United States as early as 1953 (just months after the Parisian launch by Le Galion the previous year!), a venture resulting in less than 100 bottles sold in total, but effectively excluding the Le Galion fragrance from the American market. Importing any infringing trademark was naturally prohibited and this exclusion lasted for almost 2 decades, thus blocking Le Galion's perfume chances in the vast USA.
Snob by La Galion was launched many years after Patou's Joy, a bona fide inspiration, unlike Patou's own practices, in an era that clearly exalted the ladylike florals with the fervor of newly re-found feminine values of classiness, obedience, elegance and knowing their place; the New Look mirrored this change after women's relative emancipation during WWII.
In that regard Snob is something which I admire, but cannot really claim as my own in the here & now, much like watching reels from the 1950s, when the Technicolor saturation conspired to an almost unreal quality of the people on screen; such was their visual perfection that they stood out as Platonic ideas rather than actors playing a role.
Notes for Le Galion Snob:
Top Notes: aldehydes, bergamot, lemon, neroli, estragon, hyacinth
Heart Note: rose, jasmine, ylang ylang, carnation, lily of the valley, orris
Base Note: vetiver, musk, civet, sandalwood, cedar, tonka beans.
"From dawn until dusk, a luminous and sensual floral that flourishes."
The new feminine floral fragrance by Hermes is composed by in-house perfumer Jean Claude Ellena and is set to be widely released in February 2013 (the 15th) for the upcoming spring season. Hermès boutiques already stock it as a temporary exclusive.
You can refer to our detailed fragrance review of Jour d'Hermes on this link.
Much like Caron's Pour un Homme is a study in lavender, done in a simple equation style giving so much more in perceived value, so Bellodgia is Caron's study of carnations, but in all their rich depth. I am not surprised many perfume lovers like Bellodgia, even floral haters. Unlike its reputation for a soliflore (the fragrance that reproduces the scent of a single flower, carnation in this case) it's really complex and not simplistic.
Loving carnations sincerely, I had to have this perfume in my collection. Carnations have a scent that is not really floral, but definitely spicy and richly intimate. Who in their right mind deemed them "humble" for offering is beyond me. That spiciness is the reason I like storks also; another not quite so chic flower with its intense skatole quota (Skatole is the predominant molecule in excrement, its name deriving from the Greek word for shit; oh well, nothing is as it appears.)
Bellodgia seems the definitive carnation scent exactly because of its spiciness and complexity of its quality essences (allegedly its top note alone comprises 100 essences, a claim I find rather hard to believe); yet it is really a somewhat orientalized spicy perfume, rich in peppery notes that give a jangling quality to begin with, then segue into carnation richness with nuances of vanilla and woods warmth, which lasts incredibly well. The current eau de toilette opens with a note of incense comparable to Caron's Nuit de Noel and Parfum Sacre. The clove tint is a living remnant of retro perfumery of the turn of the 20th century, when carnations were recreated with flower notes (ylang ylang and rose) and cloves. At the time the buoyancy of the combination that resulted in a soapy, inedible impression signified perfume, a sign of wealth and status.
The heady, not so innocent kick of carnation is baroque-like in Bellodgia, like the sheen of brocade cloth, where every change of the light brings out hidden reflections in the fabric. Similarly, the longer this Caronperfume stays on, the more it gains in creaminess and powder facets, prone to be deemed "old lady smelling" by those consumers who dismiss by that derogative term anything that isn't reminiscent of cake batter or linen drawers. The classical turn can smell a bit dated, a fact that shouldn't deter the male of the species grabbing it in an effort to turn what can be predictable and ageing for one gender into an unexpected burst of good news for the other, if they dare.
The vintage formulation of Bellodgia is perhaps guiltier in the rich powderiness and the floral impact (aka more ladylike), while the modern versions are sheeting everything in the envelope of warm skin-scent musks, but more so in eau de toilette than in eau de parfum, the latter more floral and denser overall and more lasting. It's easy to spot the difference: the latest bottles have a purple label (or are encased in the shagreen tubes that the whole line has progressed onto, this time in purple), the older ones sport a white one.
The extrait de parfum is smoother than both but the problems with sandalwood supply in later years have subtly changed its base note over the last decade.
Created in 1927, Bellodgia was the result of the collaboration of Caron founder Ernest Daltroff and one-time dress maker Felicie Vanpouille, who lent her fashion expertise to the company's scents. Specifically it was inspired by Italy and its countryside of wild carnation fields, particularly the picturesque town of Bellagio, perched high above the incredibly beautiful Lake Como, it smells sunny yet deep. Full of classical drama? Indeed. It is perhaps its assertion and its projection that accounts with its popularity over past decades with American customers.
Bellodgia is a masterful blend of floral essences, so it needs some time to be blocked and some repeated exposure for it to be really appreciated, much like a good Bordeaux. And for those who sorta like Bellodgia, but want a smooth spices carnation without the powdery floralcy? Try Caron's Tabac Blond. You'll thank me later...
Notes for Caron Bellodgia: lily of the valley, rose, carnation, violet, jasmine, clove, musk, vanilla and sandalwood.
What possessed Givenchy to create two fragrances in 1957, the well known L'Interdit and the less known Le De, both inspired from and originally intended for Audrey Hepburn? In retrospect, though both elegant, delicate enough florals of immense clarity to reflect the tameness of the 1950s in terms of perfume expectations and societal mores and therefore suited to the "nice girl" elegance of Hepburn herself, the commercial supremacy of one over the other has left Le De in the twilight. It's perhaps telling that Bette Davis, no spring chicken when Le De became available in 1958 ~the actress was hitting 50, well into maturity by the standards of the time~ chose to wear the ill-fated one. Le De remains today a snapshot of how women used to smell, ladylike and in pearls, and even in the re-orchestrated re-issue that the company launched in 2007, seems a captive of time in one way or another.
The oddly named Le De is a reference to the particle of nobility in Hubert de Givenchy's name. In 1952, at the age of 24, Givenchy opened his own design house on 8, rue Alfred de Vigny in Paris introducing it with the "Bettina Graziani" collection, named after Paris's top model at the time. He had a tight budget and only three staff working in a room loaned to him by friend and mentor couturier Cristobal Balenciaga.
The landmark of Givenchy's style, and the contrast to his more conservative contemporary Christian Dior, was innovativeness: The revolutionary use of cheaper fabrics employed in designs that intrigued with their aesthetic viewpoint, instead of their bourgeois luxury (influenced no doubt by Balenciaga), and his "separates", instead of the more standard option of dresses. Audrey Hepburn, later the most prominent champion of Givenchy's fashion (and to many the fashion plate whose image both benefited from and inspired him in equal measure), met the French designer in 1953 during the shoot of Sabrina. He had mistakenly thought he was going to meet and dress Katherine Hepburn...An immediate friendship was forged over this misunderstanding and Hubert went on to design almost all the wardrobes she wore in her movies, prompting him to later say that "Audrey's image is associated with my name". She never failed to note that "Hubert gave me self-confidence. In one of his suits with the beautiful buttons I can forget my shyness and talk in front of 800 people". Their friendship lasted till her untimely death.
Le De came about when Hubert chose decided to gift his friend with a perfume; actually he commissioned two, the other being L'interdit (created in 1957 and commercialized in 1964) and they were hers alone for a whole year. In 1958 the idea of launching perfume under the aegis of his house saw Le De being introduced to the market while L'Interdit was immortalised in another classic Audrey Hepburn film, Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Comparing vintage and modern Le De Givenchy
The vintage edition of Le De comes across as a strange floral etude in the lineage of Le Dix de Balenciaga, with the violet note treated in a non sweet manner, contrary to all confectionary and makeup references that violets usually translate to perfumery. Instead the astringency of the violets gains soapy and powdery nuances (thanks to orris and rose) presenting the suds and puffs of a beauty ritual through the sheer panel of a light filter. There is no natural reference, just abstraction. The narcissus essence is laced with the impression of a horse's sweat, segueing into a musky feminine aura that is lived-in contrasting nicely with the general "groomed" effect. It is subtle enough that you won't catch it unless you're looking for it.
In 2007 a re-issue of Le De Givenchy was launched under the auspice Les Mythiques, a homage collection to the classics in the Givenchy line. The modern Le De is a play on humid floralcy. A dewy floral would theoretically appeal to modern sensibilities, even though this style had commercially expired by the time that the company thought about launching it. The violet is subdued and a "clean" orange blossom and lily of the valley are making it approachable and familiar. The structure recalls a woody musky floral and sillage and projection remain low-key, though perfectly calibrated to function as a constant halo. As of time of writing, the modern Le De is still available from Harrods.
How to Differentiate Different Editions
The original Le De Givenchy was introduced in 1957. The vintage bottle has rounded shoulders and is following the classic mould common for L'Interdit as well. It was available in eau de toilette and extrait de parfum. The 2007 re-issue of Le De Givenchy in Les Mythiques line is encased in a lilac box with the logo of Givenchy repeated in the design motif of the packaging. The bottle in frosted glass, tall, with sparse lines and sharp shoulders. EDIT: My reader Lily notes that there is an update on the Les Mythiques 2007 edition, introduced in 2011, with slight differences in the packaging, although I haven't come across it in person. If anyone can describe the differences and whether there's a change in scent I'd be happy to include the info.
Notes for the vintage Le De Givenchy:
Top notes are coriander, mandarin orange, tarragon, bergamot and brazilian rosewood
middle notes: carnation, lilac, orris root, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley and rose
base notes: sandalwood, amber, musk, oakmoss and guaiac wood. Notes for the 2007 Les Mythiques Le De Givenchy:
Top notes: coriander and lily-of-the-valley
middle notes: jasmine, ylang-ylang and bulgarian rose
base notes: sandalwood, vetiver and incense.
Les Feuilles Mortes: music by Joseph Kosma and lyrics by poet Jacques Prévert.
Yves Montand sung it in 1946 in the film "Les Portes de la Nuit".
Datura Noir is rather schizophrenic, even for a Serge Lutens fragrance, aiming at pushing several buttons at once, much like the hallucinogenic datura plant is famous for; this Lutens fragrance is a kaleidoscope which changes perceptibly every time you give it a slight shake, but one can't help but get a slight case of the shivers while attempting it.
via http://www.modelmayhem.com/portfolio/pic/23309899
It has the almond nuance of cyanide we read about in novels, yet dressed in edible apricot and tropical fruit and floral notes (candied tuberose clearly present) as if trying to belie its purpose, while at the same time it gives the impression of coconut-laced suntan lotion smelled from afar; as if set at a posh resort in a 1950s film noir where women are promiscuous and men armed to the teeth beneath their grey suits and there's a swamp nearby for dumbing bodies in the night...
The noir moniker is perfect for a night-blooming blossom, but also for something dangerous and off- kilter just like a classic cinemascope of the era. Datura after all is a blossom (in the family Solanacae that consists of 9 species) which opens and blooms in the evening. What better foil for dark natures? The deadly poisonous plant, known both as Angel’s Trumpet and the Devil’s Weed, can be beneficial only in homeopathic dosages.
Medieval as the source of inspiration sounds like, Datura Noir is a modern fragrance, very much with its feet in the here and now.
The apricot nuance in Datura Noir is due to both apricot pits used in making amaretto liqueur (which smells and tastes of bitter almonds oddly enough) and to osmanthus flowers, a blossom that smells like an hybrid between apricot and peach. The effect is sweet, narcotic, perhaps a tad too buttery sweet thanks to the profuse and clearly discernible coconut note which smothers the more carnal aspects of the tuberose in the heart.
Datura Noir is among the fragrances I can't really wear in the Lutens. It comes on as subtly as a ton of bricks and as sweet as a generous piece of baklava a la mode...Gaia at the Non Blonde shares the puzzlement. But you might disagree.
Notes for Serge Lutens Datura Noir: bitter almond , heliotrope, myrrh, tuberose and vanilla.
film clip collage from François Ozon's film 5X2 which is all the same neither loud, nor sweet
I am doubtful as to whether an elegant yet lush floral with woody undertones is really reminiscent of the opulence of the 1920s and 1930s. Historically, I know these were years when florals were given the sheen of aldehydes, transposing them from worlds of flower beds into vistas of abstraction (Je Reviens by Worth, Chanel no.5, Bois des Iles), and big profuse chypres, often with decadent fruity notes (see the pineapple in Colony by Patou, the peach-skin in Mitsouko by Guerlain et al) or leathery scented accents (Cuir de Russie by Chanel, Scandal by Lanvin for instance), reigned supreme. In that sense Opardu, the latest fragrance by Puredistance, is rather incongruent, but it is delightful all the same in its own genre, much like all the fragrances in the line have proven so far: from the smooth bravado of M by Puredistance to the nostalgic femininity of Antonia, the compact line is well thought of, evidenced by the lack of continuous releases heaping up like an avalanche on us -much like it happens with some other niche lines that shall remain unnamed.
No, Puredistance makes an effort and as soon as the first transparent drops of the new elixir, Opardu, landed on my skin I knew that this was another quality fragrance from them. My only complaint? For a parfum concentration, it seems weaker, less lasting than the others. But don't let that stop you from trying for yourself.
The inspiration
The word 'OPARDU' is a creation of the owner and creative director of Puredistance: Jan Ewoud Vos. "When he came up with the word OPARDU he felt that this word had always been there, in a mysterious way... evocative and strangely familiar" the official story goes. I can't say it means anything specific to me, yet it does evoke leopards, bringing to mind Visconti's glorious and utterly romantic Il Gattopardo in mind.
"It took more than a year to further work out OPARDU. Central to the 'feeling' of OPARDU have been the expressive paintings of Kees van Dongen, in particular one of his illustrations for the book 'PARFUMS' by Paul Valéry, published in 1945 in a limited edition of 1000. (Jan Ewoud Vos is the owner of book no. 429)." [according to this info]
The bouquet in the middle below is an illustration of Kees van Dongen
The perfumer
When Jan Ewoud Vos showed this illustration of Kees Van Dongen - a rich and lush bouquet of flowers - to Annie Buzantian, the famous Master Perfumer from New York, she instantly fell in love with it.
The first word that came to her mind was 'Opulence'. She also felt this nostalgic feeling for the early years of the previous century; the golden age of perfumery. And then her work began. As a starting point Annie used a reinterpretation of a classic carnation she had already created which was safely stored in one of her 'secret' drawers.
How it Smells
To my nose the dominating sensation is not of a classic carnation (those tended to be clove-spicy affairs, like in Caron's Poivre & Coup de Fouet), but rather of lilacs; pollen-dusted and with nectarous facets that mingle with a smidgen of green, transparent gardenia impression and a hint of powder and cedarwood. These lilacs are divested of their more melancholy, rained-upon ambience that En Passant by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti for Frederic Malle's perfume line has turned into a cult. That was a passing impression of walking under an umbrella in the early spring just catching a whiff of white lilacs in the distance from some stone and cement-walled garden afar. Here, in Opardu, the purple lilac is trembling under the morning sun and the white flower notes (not especially indolic, but not sanitized either) provide a tinge of honeyed sweetness. The wink of a bit of spice could be said to evoke a carnation interpretation, though I'm mostly struck by the inclusion of the non mentioned powdery soft and woody-earthy garland of ionones (rendering a violet note) and what I could liken to a hawthorn/mimosa note with a little muskiness. If you have always admired Vacances by Patou (1936) but have been frustrated by its rarity (now that even the 1980s reissue is discontinued for so long), Opardu can provide a good substitute.
This delicate bouquet in Opardu makes for a very feminine and subtle composition that is graceful rather than opulent and restrained in very good taste. I would have loved it to be a bit more maxed out for the opulent effect and for greater tenacity, but that's just me.
Notes for Opardu by Puredistance:
Main notes in Opardu as announced in time of writing are: carnation, tuberose absolute, jasmine absolute and gardenia with a background evoking the gentleness of romance through soft powdery notes. (All notes will be officially revealed in the first week of November, when I will update).
OPARDU will be available in a 17.5 ml. Perfume Spray and a 60 ml. Perfume Flacon as pure Perfume Extrait (32%) only, in November 2012. Available at select carriers.
A sample of the as yet unreleased Opardu parfum will be given to a lucky reader who comments on this post. Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight. Draw is now closed, thank you!
Music: Φεύγω (i.e.I'm leaving...all those years I'm leaving) by Greek songwriter Orpheas Pieridis, adapted here & sung by Dionyssis Savvopoulos.
In the interests of full disclosure I was sent a sample for consideration.
Londonder W1x is part of a new line in niche fragrances, Bex London, (and by now you know how I feel about hundreds of new lines coming onto the market, yes?), but let me assuage you: its prettiness is convincing "beyond the retro" and it lacks enough dullness for a contemporary release to warrant a separate review on its own merits. Which is to say, if you want a compliment-getter, read on, because I was inundated with those by all ages and all strata when I wore it myself.
Bex London, under the steady hand of Rebecca Goswell, its founder, apparently took a page off Bond No.9 and their ~exhausted by now~ concept of segmenting New York City into regions with their own scentscape and transposed it to a new, fresh place with more possibilities, the historic city of London that is; this time more exciting and on-the-pulse thanks to the 2012 Olympics. W1X is indeed inspired by West End and its bohemian atmosphere "where things happen" and is the most "feminine" of the lot smell-wise (the line comprises four unisex-aimed fragrances so far), composed by perfumer Francois Robert.
Though presented as a "neo-vintage" in the official press, this is strictly accurate only if you consider as "modern" the fruity florals and fruit-patchoulis miasma of the mall. W1X is quite forward-thinking in fact, with a very appealing contemporary and distinctly musky floral character that is trailing in the wind when on a generous wearer. If I were to assign it an ideal wearer I'd say it suits younger ladies who want something distinctive, with enough indefinable floralcy in it, which wouldn't clobber them down nevertheless. The sort of wearer that would put a cameo on a pashmina scarf worn over her jeans.
The mere fact that the main alliance of ingredients relies on the slightly metallic, sharpish iris-violet accord with a little bit of rose is indicative that we're dealing with something beyond the same old, same old syrupy sweet that we smell coming & going at any social gathering of 20-something year olds.
Antonio Marras, from the SS 2012 collection
In W1X the powdery fragrance vibe of iris and violet that we have come to expect from "retro" scents ~reminiscent of pancake powder and lipstick~ is refreshed with a smidgen of white flowers (plus the fresh, eletric pepperiness of freesia as well as the clean, green nuance of lily of the valley which help provide the necessary "air" between the notes, giving the lighter, contemporary feel of the fragrance). Small surprises delight the senses when the fragrance is sprayed in the air: it gains a spicy, cinnamic pepperiness with touches of "round" peachy rosiness underneath (a lactonic warmth), hinting at the traditional ladylike femininity of pink satin scalloped undergarments peeking through a modern chemise like in an Antonio Marras fashion show. However don't let that convince you this is a dramatically evolving melody that will have you thinking about it all day long like vintage perfumes; the tune catches the ear from the start and continues unfazed.
But it is perhaps the fact that the sweetish musk peers through, with the support of indefinable woods and a wink of oakmoss to anchor everything down in an autumnal haze that seals the deal, giving new sense to neo-retro, actually having me perplexed as to which season to ascribe the fragrance to: it's pan-seasonal.
I can't say W1X reinvents the wheel, but I can't deny I'm smiling smelling it; it's the Narciso For Her effect.
Bex London has just launched this past June and their site is still under construction (a very European trait!), so I couldn't really find more information on availability and distribution. What I know is that the fragrance is available as eau de toilette in 100ml bottles going for 81GBP at Les Senteurs and Zuneta in the UK for now.
In the interests of full disclosure, I sampled this thanks to a PR promo.
Etat Libre d'Orange have stunned us with Jasmin et Cigarette and Like This. They have surprised us pleasantly with Fils de Dieu du Riz et des Agrumes and Archives 69.They have had our jaw dropped on the floor with Secretions Magnifiquesin a most memorable way. And now, set for release for October 2012, the French niche brand is issuing something that has me reminiscing of the days when I was practicing for piano solos at the Conservatoire, listening from the adjoining rooms all the other musicians practicing as well; namely a fragrance inspired by a most famous musical piece, L'apres midi d'un faune by Claude Debussy set into a ballet infamously by Nijinsky.
And to follow, there's yet another fragrance launched in autumn 2012 stepped in the myth of original sin...
The symphonic poem by Debussy derives its theme of the wanderings of a mythological creature, a faun, symbol of the wild forest life, from another source too: the erotically charged poem by Stéphane Mallarmé, The Afternoon of a Faun (1876).
"The pomegranates burst and murmur with bees; And our blood, aflame for her who will take it, Flows for all the eternal swarm of desire. At the hour when this wood's dyed with gold and with ashes. A festival glows in the leafage extinguished: Etna! 'tis amid you, visited by Venus On your lava fields placing her candid feet, When a sad stillness thunders wherein the flame dies." [excerpt]
The new Etat Libre d'Orange fragrance romantically named The Afternoon of a Faun is composed by perfumer is Ralf Schwieger (of Lipstick Rose fame) and will include notes of bergamot, pepper, cinnamon, incense, immortelle (everlasting flower), orris, myrrh, leather, benzoin.
Sounds like the erotic dream of the amorous faun is passed on into the olfactory domain now...
Etat Libre d'Orange also issues another fragrance, Dangerous Complicity, inspired by Adam and Eve and their loaded story in the garden of Eden; a charged olfactory composition that will create talk thanks to its ingredients if nothing else. Perfume Violaine Collas combined Rum Jungle Essence by Mane, ginger JE, coconut JE, bay essence, calamus essence, osmanthus absolute, Egyptian jasmine absolute, ylang ylang essence, lorenox (an aromatic woody-leathery base developed by Mane), patchouli essence, a leather accord, sandalwood, and Cashmeran.
music: Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune, L'Orchestre symphonique de Montréal, directed by Charles Édouard Dutoit.
A little girl watching her mother putting on her make up, getting ready for a night out. Nivea cream scent (with its special bouquet of aromatic essences) and violet-laced, fluffy, retro powder. Soft musky roses floating on a cream bowl. Pink satin pointes with long silken ribbons ... This could be a recipe for tisane-sipping and Fabio-jacketed novels for spinsters off to bed at eight in their pink liseuses; it ticks all the predictable "romantic roses" boxes. But it's not. Drôle de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur manages to bypass the staid for the cheerful and the delicate and to render old new again. You just need a bit of an edge to turn this into the playful fragrance it really is and not into something from your grandmother's vanity.
Sweet Smell of Cosmetics
Comparable to the retro nuances of Lipstick Rose (Frederic Malle), whereas in the latter the overt sweetness and lusciousness can upset a sensitive stomach ~such is the speckled rouge approach~ in Drôle de Rose everything is painted like a light stain. Plus the L'Artisan came many years before, in 1996, pre-emptying a niche trend by far. Perfumer Olivia Giacobetti was remembering the formative images of her childhood and the scent of makeup plays hugely in such scenarios. The combination of rose & violet has become a classic in recreating this effect, since most lipsticks were typically further aromatized with these essences to render the wax's smell less obtrusive.
I call these "mock makeup perfumes", fragrances evocative of cosmetics, putting me in a made-up mood before even hitting the top of the By Terry trousse de makeup, which is something one can appreciate when too bored to do one's face. Out of these scents, some go for the pancake-makeup glamour of the 1940s, thicker and lusher, Technicolor; Lipstick Rose as well as Broadway Nite (Bond No.9) opt for that effect, retro glamorous pin-up. Others go for transparency and a super-soft, kittenish hint of fluffy ivory fur with a hint of violet pastilles; to that category I put Meteorites by Guerlain, Love,Chloe (parfums Chloe) and indeed Drôle de Rose. Giacobetti's sleight of hand plays hugely into giving this L'Artisan perfume an elegantly retro air without becoming stuffy, too sweet (though it is sweet all right) or too old. She's known for her transparent, restrained approach after all. Don't expect dark, menacing secrets and deep, meaningful confessions either. This is out for fun, pure and simple.
Scent Description Drôle de Rose is L'ArtisanParfumeur's flirty, undeniably pretty, playful starlet, who's really a good and dainty girl through and through. The rather untranslatable name rather means something like "amusing rose", in the vein of "witty". The softly powdery accord of violets and geranium (which has a rosy scent) is given a greener, fluffier tinge via the magic of star anise. The classic "lipstick scent accord" forms the core of the fragrance; made up, lips stained rosy, elegantly ladylike, sweetly appealing. The real pull however is how the flowers are given a honeyed approach, with a non indolic and yet non soapy orange blossom water, as if one is sprinkling macaroons; a powdery feel with the trickery of irones (iris); and last but not least how the musky drydown sticks around more (but doesn't project too much) than what one would initially expect when given enough heat on skin and in the atmosphere. Contrasted with the camphoraceous, woody darkness of Voleur de Roses (based on the murky rose and patchouli), one can see how the latter is meant for autumn and rainy weather, while Drôle de Rose really blooms in late spring and summer.
Even though one would be tempted to reference Paris by Yves Saint Laurent in this review, I feel that the intricate and powerful, gleaming approach in that rose-violet combo is miles removed from anything else and ultimately is its own thing: Really, I wouldn't expect necessarily loving both that and the greener, lighter, less sparkling Drôle de Rose...If you want something similar, rather try Emilie by Fragonard.
Notes for L'Artisan Parfumeur Drole de Rose:
rose, star anise, orange blossom, white iris, violet, almond, honey, leather
To extrapolate that Madonna's Truth or Dare celebrity fragrance is a Fracas-inspired vehicle is a given unless you had been living under a rock for the past 20 years. Not only had the reference been clearly made when the classic Fracas by Robert Piguet was re-issued under new directorship sometimes in the mid-1990s (along with the equally classic and controversial Bandit perfume) ~and Madonna was letting the world know she wore Fracas because it reminded her of her mother~ the famous quinquagenarian has been known to love tuberose and gardenia anyway. True to form, though not daringly enough, her fragrance Truth or Dare, late on the bandwagon of celebrity fumes, is indeed a sharp, loud tuberose with added side notes of waxy gardenia, coconut for a tropical feel to the white flowers and amber-musks in the base. It's the right thing to wear if you're decked in a conservative tailleur and fishnet veil with black eyeliner and red lipstick and horny after a handsome toreador just like Madonna herself was in "Take a Bow". (The image says it all, really; lady and tramp in equal measure).
Because Truth or Dare is a true celebrity perfume (the face behind it infinitely more important than the juice), but at the same time coming from a celebrity who is well known for her genuine interest in fragrances and her vast collection, I decided to evaluate the fragrance in a "game" of plus and cons. After all, Madonna has played the Madonna-Whore duality herself for decades.
The minus points
By now tuberose and gardenia have been tackled beyond the iconic Fracas in a pleiad of guises by niche perfume companies, sometimes to incredible results: The natural green and tropical vibrancy of Carnal Flower by Frédéric Malle is hard to beat. The silkiness of the initially mentholated Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens is unsurpassable. The refinement of Beyond Love by Kilian, very close to Fracas, but a bit more natural feeling, is a wonder of artistry and nature: Calica Becker used the fresh flowers as a reference to narrow the gap between the oil and the real blossom and the injection of coconut gives a sensuous mantle of real human skin. For real gardenia we have Estée Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia which smells as real as the living thing, green buds, browning petals and all.
Madonna's effort therefore seems too little, too late. If Truth or Dare had been issued 15 or even 10 years ago (why wasn't it? that is the question) we would have been more responsive to its white flowers message. By now, it's almost a cliché. (And inspires its own caricature, please open with caution) Even Kim Kardashian has issued her very own version in her first fragrance; with an added dose of sugarcane, of course...And if rock-babe Courtney Love issues a celebrity perfume in the future, I'm sure she will get endless propositions on the same model of tuberose-gardenia given her self-proclaimed love of Fracas as well. (Whether she will capitulate though, that's another matter)
The plus points
Presenting a waxy tuberose-gardenia combo ~and a loud, unashamed one at that~ to the audience of teeny-bopper consumers who are used to sugar-laced sanitised white florals or fruity swirls with a ton of ethylmaltol & patchouli in there is commendable. Obviously not only teenagers have a right to a celebrity perfume and fans of Madge have reason to celebrate, I guess. It's not going to garner you "youthful" comments though, be prepared (Not a bad thing in itself) and if you live in a subdued environment that only tolerates "clean" non-perfumey perfumes and winces at anything else, you will have to wear this at home alone with the windows taped.
As to the perfume composition, the duality of the name Truth or Dare is cleverly built into the formula overseen by Coty. There is on the one hand the tropical, sweet, nail polish acrid, very indolic (with jasmine and jasmolactones), loud white floral tentacle with a hint of lily; lethal and femme fatale. On the other hand there is the more subdued belly of resinous ingredients, benzoin, emitting a hint of vanilla, amber and the blank canvas of synthetic musks, giving an almost monastic feel due to their subdued effect and low projection. This schizoid personality of Madonna's Truth or Dare seems totally intentional and for that reason I can't but admire the smarts (and dare I say, the guts).
Bottom Line: Madonna wouldn't be shamed to death to be caught wearing her celebrity perfume, which is more than I can say for many other celebrity scents out there. If you are a lover of Fracas, tuberose-gardenia compositions and loud, a tad vulgar-but-out-for-a-good-time perfumes, it's worth a try.
Note: The ad campaign has been deemed too racy for prime-time. Was this really unexpected? Nope...
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