Hermes 24 Faubourg: fragrance review

Named after the famed "faux bourg" rue of Faubourg Saint-Honoré in the 8eme arrondisement in Paris, where the headquarters of the Dumas-family luxury house are situated, 24, Faubourg was immersed in luxury from the very beginning; to the manor born.

Like many perfume lovers I'm not averse to luxury per se. Luxury and luxuria pose an interesting thought; luxuria is the Latin name for...lust. One of the 7 deadly sins. Luxury lovers do lust over the objects of their desire, do they not?  Desire is sparked by lack. Lack creates eros, the urge to fill the lack, the platonic ideal of uniting two parts that once made a whole. It's a metaphorical concept. Explains why brands keep us on our toes searching for the part that's missing!

In rebelliousness against social class and perhaps due to anti-snobbism on my part (or is it just plain snobbism in reverse, I sometimes wonder?) I have refrained from conscious overt exhibition of the insignia of wealth and embracing the lowly and the humble on purpose. Look at that drugstore item, isn't it fabulous? And that Zara fragrance at a fraction of the cost of a designer one, yet made by Puig just the same? Who needs logos and frou frou, it's the quality in things that matters. The axiom of Coco Chanel has always guided me. It'd be quite inelegant to hang a 50 carat diamond from one's neck, as surely as it'd be gauche to hang a check from it. So why indulge in the luxuria of capitalism? Wanting more, exhibiting more?

I have been perfectly happy going for my esoteric woody incenses for everyday wear. People usually don't even ascribe the aromas emanating from my humble person as "perfume", even when they like them. It's not like Coco Mademoiselle, "hey, you're wearing perfume". I suppose it's like I just left Vespers or something or have been spending a lot of time at the library, which is not unusual come to think of it. I'm also big on white florals and on spicy orientals, though these have a harder time passing under the radar of "perfume awareness". Not that it really bothers me if they do make people notice. After all, many a time a potent scent has sparked an interesting conversation. People united by scent are people united at breath, it's a powerful connection.

The scent of 24, Faubourg is floral, undeniably floral, white floral drenched in honeyed tones, to be exact, not just "a floral".  It's the floral to end all florals, and yet it's not only floral. In its elaborate, Byzantine bouquet I can detect resins, balsams, fruit (fuzzy peaches and tangy citruses), a soft powderiness of orris, some wood, something intangible, something aching to overreach...Sounds like everything and the kitchen sink (same thought with the original feminine Boucheron ) and yet it is not that in effect. Instead, a perfectly judged, lush, satisfying, calorific, dare I say it, yes, I will, RICH effect comes out of that lovely bottle shaped like a carré silk scarf that the Dumas house is famous the world over for.
Although the orange blossom and the jasmine and the (rather less copious in the mix) gardenia owe as much to analytical chemistry as they owe to nature's laboratory, the experience feels like a silken thread woven by some exotic insect with beautiful wings in an engulfing tropical greenhouse.
The allusion to the sun is nowhere more evident than in the advertising images which reflect the golden, ambery aura of the scent. I wrote before that "solar notes" stand for warmth and luminosity and although this is not especially salicylates-focused, it does smell snuggly and jovial and reminiscent of the touch of the sun.

Perfect for the Indian Summer days and evenings we're going through then!

YeYe Parfums Sentiers de Cometes: fragrance review

"As cruel as the typical degenerate Derby winner", the lithe, tall redhead is standing in the centre of the room with her Edwardian silk drapped dress and her fairly modern views, which she airs freely, to wreck havoc with whom she targets.

courtesy of the BBC

Her venomous lines are nevertheless obliterated by her stunning physique and as she dangles her cigarette-holder with the bored air of a person whose existence is oblivious to the Great War around her, you catch yourself having your eyes hooked by  the corners of her full rosy lips in anticipation of her passing her tongue over them to draw a wet line that glistens from across the room. That's Sylvia "pulling the bath strings" and she masters the game.

courtesy of the BBC

Sentiers de Cometes by parfums YeYe is suffusing this scenery and this heroine with its emancipated vampish touch to a T. Its bright opening of vivid citrus followed by the more complicated silkiness of floral essences caressed by tonka beans is a glimpse into an orientalised salon, the kind we don't see anymore unless it belongs to a sinophile.
Not dangerous unless manipulated to be, nor innocent to be sure, Sentiers de Cometes is a fragrance that makes one yearn for the days when you could put a jewelled band on your forehead and some marabou feathers on your shoulder and descend to dinner. I miss that kind of glamour even if I never lived through it. 

The YeYe Parfums brand was founded in 2007, initially focusing on Home Fragrances: Diffusers and Candles and has acquired a loyal following since. The brand's first personal fragrances were introduced in 2015 a trio of artisanal scents. Ryan York, Creative Director & Co-Founder and Ernesto Sanchez Bujanda, In-House Perfumer & Co-Founder are behind the brand.The simple but beautiful bottles featured a wooden cap and a tasselled label.

The Different Company Une Nuit Magnetique: fragrance review

“But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.”
― Stephen King, 'Salem's Lot'

Even though the temperatures are nowhere close to bringing out the woolen-patch jodhpurs, the heavy jumpers and the nautical pea-coat I associate with a chair by the fire, I have played with a little light, merino wool scarf these past few crisp early mornings before the sun would rise high on the sky making me tie it on my purse's handle. Sprayed with The Different Company's latest launch, Une Nuit Magnetique, felt indeed like an old friend that I had missed. In more ways than one.

Une Nuit Magnetique by The Different Company looks dense and heavy on paper, as floral orientals sometimes do, but becomes a warm alcove of ambery woods on the skin, no rough edges, no hyper-sexualized dirty tricks. It bears the signature style of plush yet lightweight compositions for which its composer, the perfumer Christine Nagel, is acclaimed for. The sensuality of the cozier notes is unmistakeable, never cloying, a transparent "oriental" chord built on benzoin and rose with quite a bit of musk and a hint of what feels like the famous Prunol base, that enveloping material that gives a sort of raisin and mulled-in-sweet-wine plums tinge to so many classic masterpieces, from Rochas Femme to Shiseido/Serge Lutens Feminite du Bois, and on to modern iterations (see Mon Parfum Cheri par Camille by the brand of Annick Goutal where it's coupled with a very strong patchouli note). However the character of Une Nuit Magnetique remains ultimately undecipherable, despite the familiarity, almost an enemy to parsing.

I have just published a full review on Fragrantica on this link.

Fragrance notes for TDC Une Nuit Magnetique: 
Top: ginger, bergamot and blueberry;
middle: Egyptian jasmine, Turkish rose, tuberose and plum;
base: benzoin, patchouli, amber, musk and woody notes.

Guerlain Shalimar Souffle de Parfum: New Fragrance

Souffle de Parfum, the breath of a fragrance, is the new declination of Shalimar, developed by the house of Guerlain. More than a new concentration (as the poetic name might let you think) it is a flanker fragrance, coat-tailing on a best-selling perfume and offering a new interpretation that smells different; in this case a light floriental.

The latest addition to the classic Shalimar perfume stable is composed by in house perfumer Thierry Wasser and features the following fragrance notes:

Guerlain Shalimar Souffle de Parfum
Top notes: bergamot, lemon, mandarin
Heart: jasmine, orange blossom
Base: vanilla, white musk

The fragrance is available as 30, 50 and 100 ml of Eau de Parfum concentration.

The rumour of Shalimar Souffle de Parfum replacing Shalimar Parfum Initial (eau de parfum) and Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau (eau de toilette) are persistent, while Guerlain hasn't confirmed officially as of time of writing.

For a comprehensive summary of the previous versions and limited editions of Guerlain Shalimar, see below and please consult the links for reviews.

Flankers/derivative versions of Shalimar by Guerlain (with linked reviews & comparison with original):
Shalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar Light
Eau de Shalimar
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille sur la Route de Madagascar
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille sur la Route de Mexique
Shalimar Parfum Initial
Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau
Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau Si Sensuelle
Limited editions of Shalimar (without change in the perfume formula itself):
Eau de Shalimar Flower
Shalimar Charms edition & Eau de Shalimar Charms edition
Shalimar Fourreau du Soir
Shalimar extrait de parfum in Bacarrat quadrilobe flacon 2011 edition

Providence Perfume Samarinda: fragrance review

Samarinda was an unexpected surprise in my mailbox replete with an eco-benefit (more on which below) and it was a pleasant one which prompted this review. Independent perfumers come with the benefit of being able to both experiment with no concern of focus groups and with the passion that comes with doing what you believe you should do instead of what you know you should do in order to sell well. Not that artisanal perfumers are beyond the scope of a true business, if they have leaped off the amateur description concocting elixirs in their back kitchen, but you know what I mean; wouldn't you rather have someone disregard trends, likability stakes, IFRA restrictions and focus on what seems "like a good idea, let's try it out and see"? Charna Ethier of Providence Perfume Co. is one such.

Ethier is a botanical perfumer, working with natural essences and what I believe are extractions from materials not common in mainstream (and even niche) perfumery, such as choya nakh, a roasted seashell  essence which is truly unique and which I personally find captivating thanks to its evocation of the animalic marine world. Samarinda is using this essence, alongside many others which initially seem incongruous (the above mentioned choya nakh side by side with Sumatran coffee alongside jasmine rice, oakwood, leather, rum ether and flowers), but the blend is quite astonishingly tempered and uplifting. The cardamom note on top is so fitting to coffee that it transports me instantly to a warm morning sipping a demitasse in a middle-eastern setting. But there's further along the map that this perfume can take us…

The sweetish floriental has a delectable boozy (richly rum-like for armchair travelers on the high seas seeking pearls in oysters down the depths of the Indian Ocean) and a lightly smoky vibe which engulfs you with none of the intensely floral  -and then magically dissipating- pong of some all natural perfumes. Maybe the choice to do an orientalized take on Indonesia, as Samarinda aimed to do, is a wise choice olfactory-speaking, or maybe Ethier came up with just the right balance in her palette; the result is that Samarinda is a joy to wear on skin from the lightly spicy, juicy opening with its vanillic underpinning right down to the  smoky-warm woods of the drydown. It's certainly smelling better than actual Indonesia with its yeasty trail in the air.

And what's the eco-benefit? 5% of all sales of Samarinda will be donated to the World Wildlife Fund to promote the protection efforts in Borneo and Sumatra, home of hundreds of endangered rhinos, tigers, elephants and orangutans and thousands of identified and as yet unidentified plants.

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent a sample vial by the perfumer directly. 

Boucheron Boucheron Femme eau de parfum & extait de parfum: fragrance review

Direct kin off Narcisse Noir (Caron's venerable classic built on orange blossom and Sunset Boulevard notoriety) Boucheron Femme is at once a queenly narcotic perfume that recalls retro beauties and a fragrance that breathes contemporary air; if by contemporary we refer to the still living, still breathing women who first discovered it in the 1980s when it erupted Venus like from the sea foam "sprayed" by the creative sperm of perfumers Francis Deleamont and Jean-Pierre Bethouart in 1988. Obviously this is the result of palinoia rather than divine intervention, but it feels like the latter, such is the awe it inspires in me. Boucheron Femme feels the way Venus de Milo looks: eudaimonia (ευδαιμονία), in Greek literally  denoting "of benevolent spirit", a balance of prosperous good living, of contended human flourishing.

I suppose what I'm trying to convey in my Greek-inflected English is that Boucheron Femme possesses the sort of timeless charm that makes for idols such as Greta Garbo or goddesses such as Venus; intelligence built in the glamor package, a healthy dosage of wit and self-deprecation (or self-insouciance), the distance necessary to feel special and never "me too". The only reason I can discern for this perfume being less well known or lauded than some others (and thus forming part of the Underrated Perfume Day feature today) is that audiences have been so conditioned not to understand quality, even when it slaps them in the face, that the likes of Boucheron Femme can remain a code for the secret handshake societies of perfumistadom such as this one.

The formula of Boucheron Femme fragrance remains a beautifully balanced textbook definition of the floriental genre: an oriental perfume skeleton onto which lush flower notes have been etched with the precision of a skilled calligrapher on thick moire paper. Orange blossom absolute with its candied and indolic facets is contributing the main floral theme, blooming as the succession of two different but equally "fresh" directions in the introduction: one is the citrusy fruity theme of hesperides (elegant bergamot, juicy and sweet mandarin) plus fleshy lactonic apricot; the other is the emerald accent of galbanum grass resin rising atop with a couple of complimentary notes in bright minty basil and bluish, celadon narcissus.

Although tuberose and jasmine are among the cluster of flowers contributing to the rich radiant bouquet, Boucheron Femme is that kind of fragrance where one would be hard pressed to say where one floral essence begins and one ends. The orange blossom is dominant, sure, but the rest are supporting players with important lines to deliver all the same.
The plush of the base isn't just downy soft, it can only be described as the finest, whitest ermine, the smoothest marble, the deepest shimmer of smoky cognac diamonds. Constructed out of amber, vanilla, olibanum (frankincense), sandalwood and the vanillic, caramelic benzoin resin, it is everything a grand oriental should accomplish, but without losing the plot into too vampish. Boucheron Femme is always the lady and a very knowing and smart lady at that.

The bottle of Boucheron Femme is famously inspired by cabochon sapphires set on a ring. In fact the glorious parfum concentration (which smooths out the marmoreal qualities of the resins even further without losing the inherent radiance) is shaped like a giant ring for une femme aux gros doigts, sitting in its own leather-cased box lined with felt like a real jewel would. But what am I saying…it IS a jewel, what the French so aptly call un parfum bijou. 

Wear it with your very best, naked skin!

pics via pinterest

M.Micallef Rouge #2: fragrance review & Deluxe Rouge Collection free perfume draw

Some perfumes benefit from an embarrassment of riches, sort of a scent analogy with Bathsheba Everdene given the choice of not one, not two, but three suitors. Similarly these gifted perfumes straddle varying stylistic directions, arriving at the most meaningful in the end, but having quite the mileage before settling there. Rouge #2 eau de parfum, part of the newly launched Art Collection Rouge by M.Micallef, is one such olfactory heroine.

Julie Christie via bookforum.com

The fusion of catty, tangy blackcurrant with spice and fruity-amber notes produces a very individual experience: the segments are certainly familiar from other fragrances which highlight one or the other, but the combination by experienced perfumer Jean Claude Astier is unexpected. Rouge #2 feels much redder than M.Micallef Rouge #1 (which flushed pinkish, salmon-toned in my mind, with its peachy rose). Although advertised as an animalic fragrance, I do not perceive it as too naughty for comfort (in the sense of too musky or civet/cumin leaning like Muscs Kublai Khan for instance), though it could be argued that my personal threshold for naughty is set on rather high, since I find the infamous MKK a purring kitten. Rouge #2 by M.Micallef is more of an intense, pungent fruity yet polished fruity oriental, in the mould of -say- Jungle L'Elephant by Kenzo, with its unusual mélange of contradicting elements.

Rouge No. 2 eau de parfum by Martine Micallef's Art Collection Rouge, which includes Rouge no.1 perfume in beautifully decorated crimpson-hued bottles with Swarovski details, is recommended for perfume lovers who like being surprised by orientals that take a zig when you expect them to take a zag and anyone who considers standard gourmands too sweet or predictable. It could be shared by both sexes, although it leans more on the feminine side, and its lasting power is very good.

Notes for M.Micallef Rouge #2:
citrus, blackcurrant, nutmeg, jasmine, violet, orchid, amber, vanilla, labdanum, castoreum

Finally for our readers and thanks to the US distributor of Micallef, we have a lucky draw: 
10 winners will each receive two fragrances, the pair of No.1 and No.2 as large 5 ml deluxe miniatures set in a drawstring pouch: M. Micallef Art Collection Rouge No.1 M. Micallef Art Collection Rouge No.2.  The draw is available to US addresses only and is open till Wednseday midnight. Winner to be announced on Thursday Please leave a comment to be eligible.

Ormonde Jayne Tsarina: fragrance review

Tsarina, part of the London exclusive "Four Corners of the Earth" line by niche perfumery Ormonde Jayne, is advertised as "baroque" as would be expected from a fragrance evoking the furs and jewels of imperial Russia. Much as the sensibilities of democracy and social struggle have imprinted themselves into our collective consciousness, understandably making us abhor the practices of that long-gone era, the opulence of the winter palaces and the decorations on the regal vesture make the eye rest on them in awe and admiration (but lest we forget, people suffered so that the few had those privileges!). The contemporary reality of the scent by Ormonde Jayne, co-created by perfumer Geza Schoen and art director Linda Pilkington, is beyond the dense and thick, breathing with a beautiful luminosity and genuine distinction beyond the class systems.

Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia (pinned on Pinterest from coeurdelhistoire.tumblr.com)

The inspiration for the new perfume collection 'The Four Corners of the Earth' came from the indigenous flora of different parts of the world Linda Pilkington have visited on her travels. Globetrotting can serve many things and when it's for the benefit of us all, who can blame Linda for wanting to package these olfactory impressions into elixirs to be put onto skin?

Tsarina captures opulence and passion. It demands furs, leather, brocade, heavy silks in sweeping dresses and fabulous jewels to go with her haughty heritage. If you like the opulent feeling that some great florientals of the past exude in spades, such as Caron Narcisse Noir, or Boucheron Femme (the original), my gut feeling tells me that you'd probably love Tsarina, just like I have, and suffer through its exclusive status as a London-only ware. (The rest of the exclusive line includes the India-inspired Nawab of Oudh, the cedar-austere Montabaco inspired by Latin American and the featherweight charm of Chinese-inflected Qi)

*sigh* I had to post this despite my will, since the costumes are so magnificent...

Decadent luxury is transliterated into scent with Tsarina, a powerhouse floral oriental perfume reverberating with heaps of natural jasmine sambac (quite the non-Russia-referencing blossom!), unfurling its petals from the bottle like tentacles of glamour. The bright fruity touches give a saturated texture. The soft, vanillic and close to the skin intimacy of leathery  labdanum, fusing into an amber-smellingblend (more soft suede than balsam or butch leather one would associate in reference to the usual Cuir de Russie scent themes), underscores this composition—and do I detect a drop of civet, too?
Like the vitraux at the Saint Isaac's Cathedral in Russia, Tsarina is beautifully radiant, powerfully evocative of imperial splendor.

Notes for Ormonde Jayne Tsarina:
top : mandarin, bergamot, coriander, cassis
heart : hedione, freesia, jasmine, sambac, iris, suede
base : sandalwood, cedar, vanilla bean base, labdanum, musk

Tsarina is available exclusively at the Ormonde Jayne boutiques in London, UK.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Nawab of Oudh by Ormonde Jayne fragrance review (4 Corners of the Earth line), Ormonde Jayne news and fragrance reviews.

Tocca Margaux: new fragrance

Feast your eyes on the gorgeous bottle of the newest feminine fragrance by Tocca cult brand, as it's so very beautiful as usual. Margaux eau de parfum, the upcoming feminine fragrance release, planned for October 2013, is a new proposition  in the line with a richer, more sophisticated scent than we've been used to previously (see Colette, Touch or Cleopatra by Tocca for instance).

via Perfume (Larie) pinterest.com

Fragrance notes for Tocca Margaux:
Top Notes: Blood Orange, Bergamot Blossom, Cassis, Green Gardenia
Middle Notes: Black Jasmine, Ambery Violet, Cashemere Woods
Bottom Notes: Warm Musk, Benzoin, Vanilla, Heliotrope

TOCCA Margaux Eau de Parfum (50 ml) retails at $68 at Sephora and Nordstrom stores nationwide and online at www.TOCCA.com, www.sephora.com, www.bluemercury.com and beauty.com beginning October 2013.

Viktoria Minya Hedonist: fragrance review

It's rare that perfumes correspond to their names, but Hedonist by newcomer Hungarian perfumer (taught at Grasse) Viktoria Minya is the exception to that rule. If Leos Carax's passionately controversial film Pola X was shot again, I'm sure one of the props used would be this fragrance: Not only for its glamorous, French-chateau-evoking  visual introduction that drips of old world class and physical luminosity, but also for its raw, emotionally honest, unassimilated sex scene following the hero's descent into bottomless soul searching. This dark obsession needs its own olfactory track.

[that's another scene, actually]

Introducing a niche line has become an insurmountable task of difficulties by now: how to diverge and differentiate one's brand? It's less easy than it was in 2005 or so. Did I mention that creating a sexy fragrance is just as difficult? If not more? Well, it is. If you have followed perfume you know it's up there as desirable goal numero uno with manufacturers (not necessarily the people who love perfume, though!), but often the whole trial fails because, well, it doesn't work out. Imagine my surprise to find things that do work their magic. Not many but when they do.... ooh la la!!

There is already an interview with the photogenic Viktoria (who is a joy to communicate with) on Fragrantica, so what I wanted to add is just how EFFECTIVE her Hedonist is, in the sense mentioned above. In a previously anecdotal exchange between my significant other and myself, Ms. Minya's fragrance played a particularly decisive role. My man upon smelling it had a few ideas: "Let me see...smells a bit like coffee and honey, wait...that smells like the orange tobacco your cousin likes...some vanilla but not too much, eh? Tell me I'm right!" [My man is a perfumisto in the closet.] Myself I was sure this potent but ladylike potion had peachy-apricoty-citrusy nuances with lots of orange blossom rendered in an animalic fashion, lots of the voluptuousness of beeswax and yes, a super sexy feel! [No wonder he was aroused] I will spare you the carnal details to follow; I know Perfume Shrine's readers are possessive of a fertile imagination to rival Henry Melville's.

The handmade wooden box (with snakeskin leather look) opens to reveal a beautifully crafted bottle filled with hundreds of Bohemian crystals that sparkle in the champagne colored liquid, catching the light. I just wish that there were a way to own the perfume in perhaps a less glamorous presentation so as to cut down on the monetary overlay (195$/130€ for 45ml), but you can't blame a niche brand for wanting to stand out, can you?

Notes for Hedonist by Viktoria Minya:
Rum, bergamot, peach, osmanthus absolute, jasmine abolute, orange flower absolute, tobacco, vanilla, cedarwood, vetiver

Shopping info and more on Viktoria Minya's site.

Neela Vermeire Creations Bombay Bling!: fragrance review

What do we know of India really? Its people say सत्यमेव जयते (i.e. truth alone triumphs), a motto inscribed in all local currency, but to our western mind this vast country is a tapestry of so colorful a thread and such intricate a yearn that it is almost impossible to exhaust it if one had two lifetimes over to do so. Bombay Bling! by Neela Vermeire Créations aims to give us a glimpse of this tapestry. Testing it I was expecting to savor this complexity; to paraphrase Dracula addressing Harker before coming to London, I so longed to go through the crowded streets of your mighty Bombay, to be in the midst of the whirl and the rush of humanity, to share its life, its changes, its deaths. The fragrance didn't disappoint. On the contrary. It rekindled the desire to go to India again, to merge myself with it.

Source: behance.net via Kjirsten on Pinterest

Bombay Bling! by Neela Vermeire is meant to fuse the dichotomy of India: the advances of the economic world and the colorful culture. The underbelly of the big city combined with the glitter of Bollywood on the vast sandy stretches of Juhu beach and the Queen’s necklace. Fortunes made and lost on the Bombay stock exchange and gambling dens of Mumbai. Beyond the Deccan plateau's archeological ruins...a figurative arm's length beyond the place where Alexander the Great wept, his fate, glory and dreams behind him, before him only the sea...where the cenotaphs of rajputs of Jaisalmer lie... there, in that still shrouded land a giant is stretching its legs and testing its strength; India. An exuberant fragrance, Bombay Bling! takes as a point of departure the mingling of tart, juicy fruits (an unripe mango veering into citrusy tang) squirted over lush flowers of the subcontinent and underscored with a humming woody backdrop. The deep, earthy sweetness of patchouli leaves blends with the banana note of the ylang. Brown sugar and cumin-like intimacy, like when you're smelling a lover's sweat, dripping on sandalwood chippings; milky, soft drydown, yet radiant and fun loving, like a lime and paprika dish with a side of mango chutney. Above all Bombay Bling! is optimism in a bottle!

Bombay Bling! is part of the original trio of fragrances issued by Neela Vermeire Créations which also includes Trayee and Mohur (the fourth instalment, Ashoka, is launching soon). These Indian inspired perfumes, like Chants of India, draw upon the tradition, history and cultural milieu of that vast Eastern sub-continent in which Neela herself has roots. These are truly "transparent orientals", modern and wearable, and therefore it comes as no surprise that Neela commissioned Bertrand Duchaufour to compose them for her niche line.

They are all satisfying tenacious and project with varying force, with Trayee the most introverted and Bombay Bling the most extroverted. Their trail is delicious, creating a lasting impression.

Notes for Neela Vermeire Creations Bombay Bling:
Mango, lychee, blackcurrant, cardamom, cumin, cistus, Turkish rose, jasmine sambac, ylang-ylang, tuberose, plumeria, gardenia, patchouli, tobacco, sandalwood, cedar, vanilla

Bombay Bling! is available as an Eau de Parfum 55ml (in refillable flacons), available at select stockists and on www.neelavermeire.com, where you can find a discovery set

The song is of course originally from film Mother India (music by Ali Naushad Saab) but this is a very popular Greek-lyric version called "My poor heart, how can you bear it" (lyrics written in the 1960s by Demetris Goutis) hereby sung by Eleni Vitali. A small token of appreciation of one people to another...

Disclosure: I was a sample by Neela. 

Neela Vermeire Creations Mohur: fragrance review

Perfumery was so developed during the Mogul era in india that the most powerful empress of the Mughal dynasty, Noor Jahan popularly known as Mehrunissa, devoted herself to perfecting it during her days of confinement after the death of her husband, emperor Jehangir.  Mohur (pronounced mə-ˈhu̇r) by niche perfume line Neela Vermeire Créations is inspired by this period and named after the golden coin minted during the Moghal and the British rule of the country. In fact, one can still see the largest mohur coin ever smithed displayed at the British Museum, a 1000 mohur from the reign of Jehangir (1605-1628).  I'm saying all this to confirm that Mohur is a regal perfume; majestic, opulent, marmoreal, founded  in powdery rose and oud, yes, but buoyed by spices (cardamom), a note of smooth suede (via saffron) and light, vegetal musk. The rosy blossom performs double duty: symbol of the territories around the Middle East, but also synonymous with the "English rose".

Source: aashhi.tumblr.com via Glorynn on Pinterest

The magnificence of Neela's Mohur lies in its surpassing and transcendence of olfactory tropes: where rose usually reads as dusty, like pot pouri, it is in Mohur elevated into jammy and lightly powdery; where oud in contemporary fragrances usually smells like Band Aids, here it is discreet and only reinforces the earthiness; and finally where the two combined would end up feeling deja vu, a classical tradition seen a hundred  times  over  thanks to every niche (and some non niche) firm of the last decade, this marriage by perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour feels neoteric. Although the composition feels radiant and classically French at moments (I was briefly reminded of the feel of the classic Madame Rochas perfume and of aubepine aldehyde, then more potently of the rose and saffron in the original Agent Provocateur eau de parfum), with a lightly soapy facet, Mohur satisfies both the lover of soft woody florals and the one who is after an orientalized take on rose. The richness of the floral accords creates the rich facade of a temple where the vibrancy of the tiles beckons you to come closer to fully experience them. The depth of the spicy and earthy notes recalls mendhi decorations on the nimble hands of Shriya Saran. And the plush is evocative of silk cushions at some old palace in Rajastan where the British find themselves mesmerized strangers to a mysterious land.

Interestingly, the dabbing method yields more of the saffron rose impression of Mohur, while the spraying method accounts for the French soapy aldehydic segment which is less detectable on dried down skin. Less predictably exotic than Trayee and Bombay Bling, but nevertheless a refined, golden fragrance for those who can appreciate the mastery of true artists. It was enough to have my rose-hesitant heart ambushed and kept captive.

Mohur is part of the original trio of fragrances issued by Neela Vermeire Créations which also includes Trayee and Bombay Bling (the fourth instalment, Ashoka, is launching soon). These Indian inspired perfumes, like Chants of India, draw upon the tradition, history and cultural milieu of that vast Eastern sub-continent in which Neela herself has roots. These are truly "transparent orientals", modern and wearable, and therefore it comes as no surprise that Neela commissioned Bertrand Duchaufour to compose them for her niche line.

Notes for Neela Vermeire Creations Mohur:
Cardamom, coriander, ambrette, carrot, black pepper, elemi, Turkish rose oil, jasmine, orris, hawthorn, almond milk accord, leather, sandalwood, amber, patchouli, oudh Palao from Laos, benzoin, vanilla, tonka bean



Mohur is available as an Eau de Parfum 55ml (in refillable flacons), available at select stockists and on www.neelavermeire.com, where you can find a discovery set. As of mid-2013 a new parfum version of Mohur will be available as well.

Disclosure: I was sent a sample by Neela.

Oscar de la Renta Oscar (original, 1977): fragrance review

Some perfumes the minute you put them on feel like you've slipped into a pair of black satin slingbacks or a silk peignoir in ivory. Oscar by Oscar de la Renta had felt that way to me for the better bulk of my adult life. In fact I used to adore the way it smelled on my mother, no stranger to spectacular perfumes, such as her favorites Cabochard and Dioressence. 

The original Oscar (1977) is a remarkably complex perfume, quite attenuated in its current formula compared to the grand dame that was the vintage juice from the 1970s and 1980s, which shows a remarkable kinship (and debt) to Coty's L'Origan and Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue. For this reason, but also for the way it extrapolates past and fuses it into the future, beyond mere nostalgia, it is of great historical value to see what makes it tick.

via parfumdepub.net

Oscar de la Renta's original perfume: a complex composition 

In many ways the introduction of Oscar by Oscar de la Renta on the market in 1977 meant a revival of the floriental bittersweet genre that the two classics had paved after many years of inertia. Despite L'Origan being formulated around perfumer's bases (i.e. ready made blocks of "smells" composed for perfumers skirting the issue of reinventing the wheel each time), both the Coty and the La Renta perfumes are resting on a basic chord of carnation (the spicy constituent eugenol is a key component of the perfume), orris, violet (methyl ionone), orange blossom and ambreine, all ingredients in about equal measure but for the ionone (which is doubly dosaged compared to the rest). Jean Louis Sieuzac, the perfumer of Opium (YSL), Farenheit, Bel Ami and Dune (Dior), sure knew a thing or fifty about how to create a frisson of excitement!

The floral heart however is particularly complex in Oscar de la Renta: the jasmine core (resting on both hedione and Jessemal), with rose, hyacinth and ylang-ylang included as well, produce a particularly sweet floralcy. The tuberose fragrance note is the mule's kick; purposeful, corrupt, expansive, can't miss it. Accessorizing notes of heliotrope, coumarin (the tonka bean note), musk ketone, benzoin and opoponax give a resinous, powdery and sweetish character that veers both compositions into the floriental genre (In fact L'Origan can be claimed to have historically introduced the genre in the first place!). The heliotrope and "powder" with a contrasting top (anisic in L'Heure Bleue, spicy in Oscar) are the basis of the tension that is so compelling in the Guerlain perfume as well. It's not hard to see how both can be memorable.

The addition of Vertofix (woody note close to cedar) in Oscar provides the woody background, with a small footnote of sandalwood and a mossy base reminiscent of the famous Mousse de Saxe "base" popularized by Caron. The powdery character is further reinforced through the resinous orris note and the mossiness. This contracts with the fresh top note comprising citruses (orange, bergamot and mandarin), basil, linalool and a fruity accord.

The above review pertains to the original composition which was prevalent throughout the 1980s and 1990s. Nowadays, somewhat attenuated due to "corrective surgery" (aka reformulation), Oscar is less smooth, with a harsher feel that doesn't lure in the way the vintage did, and less of its tuberose kick; in a sea of fruity floral sameness it retains some of its retro vibe, but it can come across as somewhat dated rather than wow, though the drydown phase is pretty good still. Lately the Oscar de la Renta house shows encouraging signs of picking up with its Esprit d'Oscar fragrance and its more "exclusive" collection of Luxuries fragrances, so I'm hopeful that where the botox failed the new generation fillers might prove successful. It remains to be seen.

The perfume's imprint

The progeny of Oscar de la Renta itself isn't without merit: Loulou by Cacharel (1987) owes a debt to the development of its tuberose and oriental notes to Oscar's floriental formula. The side by side testing of both gives an interesting glimpse into the intertextuality that is perfume creation; quotes of past things are happening in later perfumes all the time. Vanderbilt (an American classic from 1981) is also influenced, a sweet floral with white flowers in the heat (honeyed orange blossom, jasmine), heliotrope, vanillin, abstract woods (provided by aromachemical Iso-E Super) and musk in the base and a contrasting citrus and green fruity top note, but with no spice and very little coumarin or ylang-ylang to speak of.  The contrasting nuances help make the perfume memorable.

Estee Lauder Celadon & Pavilion: fragrance reviews & history

Part of the New Romantics collection in 1978, Celadon and Pavilion are two of the three fragrances which could be layered with one another to produce unique effects for the wearer. The third one was destined to go down as a true classic, White Linen composed by Sophia Grojsman, while the rest were eclipsed by its radiant aldehydic floral sheen. It has been said that perfume trios never really work out, one inevitably outshining the others, and that may be why the other two were soon discontinued. The sales numbers were merciless.

Source: best-pinterest-photos.com via girl-karma on Pinterest

Celadon in particular smells like something that could proudly sit in a niche brand's portfolio today; not really overpowering, this green floral by Estee Lauder fuses a sweetly grassy note with flowers shimmering on aldehydes (synthetically produced notes with an intense profile), a combination which recalls a garden in full spring bloom. In reverse order than is usual for green florals, the progression becomes ever greener, as the bitterish, bracing scimitar of galbanum (the resin off an exotic grass) bites. The soapy aldehydes take a metallic nuance, reminiscent of Metal by Rabanne or Rive Gauche by Yves Saint Laurent and it is here easy to see how men could borrow Celadon effortlessly. The heart is reminiscent of the hyacinth floralcy of Guerlain Chamade. The greenness adds an outdoorsy, spring-buds and herbs quality, yet the soft, powdery scent background is wrought with whispering woods and musk rendering a glaucous patina.

via ebay

Pavilion on the other hand is a Lauder perfume in the floriental mold, more of a hothouse nursing nocturnal and exotic blossoms than a green impromptu garden with herbs and greenery the way Celadon is.
A more consciously graceful and ladylike fragrance, it ties with some of the elements of both Celadon and White Linen (but much more florals), while remaining its own thing. The sugared violet peters out in powder. The orange blossom takes a grape-like quality.

In retrospect it's hard to see how it would generate low sales, being all around likable, yet perhaps its very pleasantness might have signed off its death certificate; next to the blaring noon and hot metal rails of White Linen, this postcard sunset is too sentimental to really distinguish itself.

White Linen when faced with the zeitgeist's crossroads, vampy a la Magie Noire (Lancome) or innocent a la Anais Anais (Cacharel), chose the road less travelled by and that's why it's still among us today.
Celadon by Estee Lauder has notes of aldehydes, galbanum, rose, green notes, floral notes, woods and musk.

Pavilion by Estee Lauder has notes of aldehydes, jasmine, orange blossom, violet, sandalwood, vanilla.

Parfums MDCI Promesse de l’Aube: Fragrance Review

"With maternal love, life makes a promise at dawn that it can never hold. You are forced to eat cold food until your days end. After that, each time a woman holds you in her arms and against her chest, these are merely condolences. You always come back to yell at your mother’s grave like an abandoned dog. Never again, never again, never again."
―Romain Gary, La Promesse de l'aube (1960)

by guest writer AlbertCAN

There. The mandatory quote from Romain Gary’s La Promesse de l’aube (translated into the English title “Promise at Dawn”), the autobiography which the fragrance is supposedly named after*. I am getting that out of the way because I still cannot—for the life of me—figure out the connection between the book and the fragrance. And I have owned Francis Kurkdjian’s composition for many, many moons.

Yet somehow that’s the beauty of artistic transposition, isn’t it? Ideas attributed to something else altogether. It’s as if one discovers that Luis Buñuel’s psychological sexual liberation Belle de Jour (1967) is actually based on Joseph Kessel’s 1928 thinly veiled cautionary tale of the same title about a young garçonne’s indiscretions and her eventual fall from grace. One story, two completely different tales! Or realizing that Truman Capote’s Holly Golightly takes after Marilyn Monroe in the original 1958 novella, really a kooky gamine who rather explores the whole wide world than resolving her insecurities. (Monroe, in turn, was considered for the starring role in the 1961 cinematic adaptation: her bid, however, pretty much dashed after her demand of getting paid in Tiffany diamonds. The more affordable Audrey Hepburn came into the picture—and becoming the highest paid actress of her time in the process. Much to Capote’s chargrin, however, and understandably he never embraced Hollywood’s vision on his beatnik tale.) Somehow that is the way I have felt about Promesse de l’Aube (2006): probably not exactly what Romain Gary had in mind when describing his youth, but a transcendental beauty in its own right nonetheless.

Parfum MDCI describes Promesse de l’Aube as an oriental floral “pour le jour” (daytime wear), but truth to be told the overall sheen and aura are just shy of the modern chypre terrain. Structurally it has also been favourably compared to Guerlain Attrape-Coeur, though not having the opportunity to experience Mathilde Laurent’s creation I cannot objectively comment on that matter. Still, the word honeyed comes to mind upon describing the opening Promesse de l’Aube; although the requisite graces of bergamot, mandarin and lemon are present, the focal point is more apricot-glossed in sensorium, candied yet delicate in tow. One can almost mistaken the olfactory refraction as the offshoot of a vibrant peach, but such is not the focus, at least not in the sense of the classic grande dame tone, how unctuously fruity Persicol is in Guerlain Mitsouko (1919). Instead, imagine a quality French citrus-apricot confit, say, from Fauchon: poised, polished, but knowingly with that touch of restrained decadence. The apricot here is that necessary gloss above the rigorously made crème anglaise and pâte sable, that requisite sheen on the French confections.

And that sheen gets subsequently buoyed by the white florals, of ylang ylang and jasmine. Knowning Kurkdjian’s style my money is also on orange blossom—not in the sense of the absolute but more of a modern accord with methyl anthranilate and the salicylates—but alas such is not listed. This is where having an unrestrained development budget factors in, the floral elements having a proper heft and sheen without the all-too-commonplace screech in its sillage before the balsamic elements (tonka bean and vanilla) ushering in the modern musks, along with the woods such as Indian sandalwood to give off an air of billowing cloud somewhere within the vicinity of a modern chypre.

Here lies the contradiction within Promesse de l’Aube: the compositional style nudges on the late fifties side with its solemnity and structure, yet the overall sweep is nimble and modern. To this day I am still doing double takes on its theme: the cerebral side of me knows all too well that an oriental floral is at play, yet from time to time I wouldn’t think twice about enlisting the base as a modern chypre...

Is it worth its hefty price tag? Ringing the affirmative. To me here the phrase “promesse de l’aube” is more literal, a take on l’aube without the fear of not delivering on la promesse.

For more information on the perfumes, flacons and on how to order, please contact Parfums MDCI
Photo: Promesse de l’Aube from LuckyScent.
* For a basic summary of the book please refer to this literary review.

Ormonde Jayne Nawab of Oudh: fragrance review

I remember walking around an exhibition on Moghul India at the British Museum, resplendent in the opulence we associate with this particular region and time. The curlicued rupees bearing intricate names alongside triangular flags, ears of wheat and fishes were not strictly limited to Moghul rule, the curator explained; the Nawabs had seized control of their own regions by that time, issuing their own coins, but continuing to cajole the Mughal emperor by keeping his name on the currency. Similarly the latest India-inspired Ormonde Jayne fragrance, Nawab of Oudh, draws upon two different wells: the silk Banarasi saris of India, with their Moghul motifs and their heavy gold work, on one hand and the mystic Muslim tradition of roses and oud resin rising in the air from a censer at the mosques of Persia on the other.

Source: Uploaded by user via Melissa on Pinterest

Understandably, given those references, the perfume smells the way a metallic brocade looks: lush, rich, opulent, draped for elegance. But the artistry of perfumer Geza Schoen makes it modern and wearable too. Despite the by now tired trope of "oudh",  the note so often smelling more like a pack of Band-Aids than the exotic resin obtained by the pathological secretion of the Aquilaria tree when attacked by a fungus, there is none of that contemporary nonsense in Nawab of Oudh. There is a powdery, soft like cat's paws, ambery trail in the drydown, reminding me of Private Collection Amber Ylang (E.Lauder), which envelops the higher notes of green-citrusy brilliance into a cradle of plush. The distinction between phases (drawing upon the classical pyramid structure of perfumes) is here apparent, at least in a binary pattern: the introduction is distinctly separate from the prolonged (really impressively prolonged) phase of the drydown. In essence we have the interplay of raspiness and velvety softness, aided by the texture of the rose. Oud-laced roses have become a dime a dozen lately in niche perfumery, but I will withhold a place in my heart of Nawab of Oudh because it's so extraordinarily beautiful indeed.

And the name? How did it evolve and how does it unite those two worlds, India and the Middle East? Awadh or Oudh was a prosperous and thickly populated province of northern India (modern Uttar Pradesh), its very name meaning "capital of Lord Rama", the hero of the Ramayana epic. Its turmoiled history began with becoming an important province of the Mughal empire, soon establishing a hereditary polity under Mughal sovereignty; but as the power of the Mughals diminished, the province gained its independence. The opulence in the courts of the Nawabs (ruler kings of the Awadh, originating from a Persian adventurer called Sa'adat Khan) and their prosperity were noticed by the British East India Company, resulting in their direct interference in internal political matters, which reached its zenith in the eventual total loss of power by the Nawabs in 1856.

The official info on the scent by Ormonde Jayne runs thus: "Nawab (Ruler) of Oudh is a province of central India. Our perfume is inspired by the Nawabs who once ruled over it. It is a potent blend of amber and rose with a soft oudh edge. Yet surprisingly not one ingredient stands out from the others. It achieves a perfume synergy that defies traditional analysis, releasing a pulsating pungency, brooding and hauntingly beautiful, a rich tapestry of fascinating depths, a jewelled veil to conceal its emotional complexity and extravagance."

Notes for Nawab of Oudh:
Top: green notes, bergamot, orange absolute, cardamom, aldehyde.
Heart: rose, magnolia, orchid, pimento, bay, cinnamon, hedione.
Base: ambergris, musk, vetiver, labdanum, oudh.

Nawab of Oudh along with the rest of the "Four Corners of the Earth" collection by Ormonde Jayne, inspired by Linda Pilkington's travels, is exclusive to the London Ormonde Jayne boutiques at 12 The Royal Arcade and 192 Pavillion Road and at the Black Hall perfumery at Harrods.

Thierry Mugler Alien Essence Absolue: fragrance review

The fragrance lurking inside the intensely yellow container of Alien Essence Absolue, that weird-looking bottle that looks like a pear mutated via the pollination of gold giant insects from outer space, is stimulating and totally unexpected with a softness, deepness and sexiness I didn't think possible.
Or did I?

The best attributes of the original, jasmine-typhoon Alien are kept. Faithfully. The intense longevity on skin, the radiance (minus the projection that extends to a 4-mile radius—this one is a little closer to the skin), the heart of surreal white flowers that seem as they're syphoned through a Space Age desert tent full of all the trappings of Arabia...

And yet Alien Essence Absolue brings on a warm embrace of amber, vanilla and incense that mollify the hard edge of that bright high-tech jasmine core. This newer version highlights the vanilla and bittersweet incense note over the rather more licorice-rich facets of the original Alien bouquet. The vanilla comes as a mysterious inclusion that is removed from the foodie varieties that recall cake batter and cookies; there are all sort of treacly and sticky off notes that resemble booze and tarmac-like gaiacwood. The almost suede-like softness is caressing, soft, a bit medicinal too, like a shaman's kit; the lure of a snake's tongue, dangerous and at the same time mesmerizing, poison and cure at the same time. The animalistic scent in the background has a honeyed facet, musky and lightly powdery, sweet and intimate. There is a precarious balance in this flanker scent that makes it good; you feel as if one tilt given and it might collapse, but oh, it doesn't.

In short, Alien Essence Absolue comes on the foot of Alien as one of the better examples in the Thierry Mugler line-up, which is quite a feat unto itself, bearing in mind Mugler has one of the most eclectic and intriguing fragrance lines within the mainstream sector.

Alien Essence Absolue was developed by (artistic olfactory director of Mugler parfums) Pierre Aulas with official fragrance notes of white jasmine flowers, orris root, black vanilla pod, incense, myrrh, white amber and cashmere wood.
Alien Essence Absolue is available as 30 and 60 ml Eau de Parfum Intense and a refill of 60 ml.

Rouge Bunny Rouge Chatoyant, Vespers, Lilt: fragrance reviews

I had promised you in my Best of 2012 in Perfume & Style recap late last year that I would return with my views on the very new Rouge Bunny Rouge fragrances, because they're quite promising for a make-up brand. Indeed, the cultish brand -known for excellent products with a fairy-tale sprinkling- doesn't disappoint in delivering credible jus despite the hyperbolic ad copy on the site.  All three of their fragrances, Chatoyant, Vespers and Lilt, wear well and convey attention to detail. They might not instigate wilder fantasies of some of the Lutens, but they don't smell like the chemical mess of many contemporary mainstreams either, straddling in fact a few tropes of niche (the fig scents) and clutching onto a few of the modern classics' strings too (the Narciso-begat "nouveau chypres"). All in all, not bad at all!

Source: google.com via Kristi on Pinterest

Instantly attractive, Chatoyant is a rich blend with a mix of floral, woody and fruity aromas that draw attention and at the same time glow with the sweet attraction of brocade in warm shades. The creamy core of Chatoyant, lightly vanillic, creamily woody with a discernible coconut touch, seemingly composed of lactonic (from the Latin for milk) notes, makes it a lightly sweet mantle, an aura on top of one's being, what the French call à fleur de peau. The rich rosiness smooths the composition, giving the other floral impressions, notably the powdery orchid "note" something to adhere to.

The creamy and yet bitterish fig leaves and milky sap impression of Lilt is tender and green, a fantasy of shaded moments of tranquility, of human skin, of repose, of calm. Fig scents are one of my favorite genres for several reasons. Their reference speaks to the Mediterranean in me with the pang of sweet nostalgia, the promise of an eternal summer, of careless days spent under the shady solace of the fig tree which these fragrances recreate with almost photorealistic accuracy. The apricot-y, coconut-y nuances are lightly sweet in nature and their creaminess makes them extremely simpatico to the natural scent of human skin, which is rich in apocrine glands partly exuding a comparable aroma. The intimacy of the serene woodiness of Lilt, peppered by the more angular notes of the fig leaves with their dusty, citrusy tang and indelible bitterness, is wrapped in other skin-compatible notes such as musk.

The cool, elegant sex-appeal of Vespers reminds me of the shimmering beauty of Narciso for Her. The intensely musky woodiness at the heart of this fragrance is only momentarily obscured by the lightly peppered bouquet of abstract, indefinable flowers opening under the snow. The juxtaposition of cool and warm notes, with the austerity of pencil shavings and the fuzz of Cashmeran, is the secret behind this scents' lure. As a dedicated fan of the genre it wasn't difficult for me to like Vespers and if you're a fan of fragrances like Narciso, SJP Lovely, Lanvin Rumeur, or Guerlain Idylle, with their marrying a floral note (like rose, orange blossom or lily of the valley) that is clear and crystalline with the woody sweetness of a non-heady patchouli, chances are you might like this one too; it's within those parameters without smelling exactly the same.

Source: beautyhabit.com via Teresa on Pinterest

Alas, it has been rather difficult to access longevity and sillage in the Fragrant Confections line, as the amount I received for reviewing purposes was either so tiny or it had significantly evaporated in transit, that it only allowed me to test these for a single wearing. The cards sprayed with the fragrances however did retain the scent for days (though you realize we're not made out of paper.)

All Rouge Bunny Rouge fragrances are available on the official site. I believe Zuneta in the UK might cater (if they don't already) to those who are not covered by the shipping by the brand directly.

In the interests of disclosure I was sent samples via PR.