Caron Bellodgia: fragrance review & history

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 Caron perfume 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.

Worthy of a read: One woman's love affair with Bellodgia.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Caron news & fragrance reviews.
vintage ads via polyvore and  the non blonde

Lancome La Vie Est Belle: fragrance review

The upcoming Lancome fragrance, La Vie Est Belle (i.e. Life is Beautiful), is exactly the kind of perfume we dedicated perfumephiles love to kvetch about without any grave reason, come to think of it: It won't knock your Spanx off, sure; it's a "pretty" smell for pretty ladies (as evidenced by the face fronted it, the original Pretty Woman) but it's not a genuinely bad release all the same, just derivative. It suffers from the major problem of mainstream perfumery: a sense of sameness, a sort of deja vu, when what we yearn for is earth-shattering uniqueness, Heathcliff boldness and passion, springboards for heated discussion with a slice of brie in one hand and a good goblet of Laphroaig on the other while Mahler's 3rd blasts out of the speakers.
If you're that sort of person you won't be wowed by La Vie Est Belle. If on the other hand you just seek a wearable, non completely teeny-bopper fruity scent to get you through the day (and night) then the newest Lancome release isn't the worst to come out on counters for a while; nor is it the best, worse luck...

To cut a long story short: La Vie Est Belle an iris "gourmand" with patchouli. Just how many irises, gourmands and patchoulis are there on the market currently? Do I hear you say hundreds? I thought so! And yet, this fragrance is pretty well-executed within the genre, if sweet and over-tenacious. It's really a floriental for the 30-50 age group of women who want something contemporary that wouldn't have their teeth fall off at the same time. Lancôme after all has never ditched their more "mature" outlook (Tresor Midnight Rose non withstanding) and the accompanying image the way Dior has, as I was discussing with one of my online friends. In that context, the fragrance succeeds in its intended demographic, all caveat emptors in place.

This gourmand yet rather delicate composition was developed by famous perfumers Olivier Polge, Dominique Ropion and Anne Flipo, all known for their talent and technical skill. The final formula is claimed to be the result achieved after 3 years of testing and 5000 versions including precious ingredients (Iris Pallida concrete, Jasmine sambac absolute, orange blossom absolute, and patchouli essence; we can take this with a grain of salt or not). When you're hearing things like that, you know you have reason to get worried.
Iris is supposedly the key ingredient of the perfume, surrounded by orange blossoms and jasmine in the heart. The iris isn't really perceptible as such to my nose, though, I have to say: that carrot-rooty often metallic note we associate with iris fragrances is very subtle and floats in the background as a murmur rather than a clear command. The composition’s opening provides fruity flavors of black currant and pear, those can be felt, while the base is warm, gourmand and powdery due to almond-like accords of tonka bean (high in coumarin), praline (shades of Angel, especially coupled with the next two ingredients), patchouli and vanilla.

The recognizable reference in La Vie Est Belle comprise a hint of Delices de Cartier (instead of cherry, the fruity nuance is orange-toned but in a clean, fresh and pleasant way) and Flowerbomb's fruity-patchouli sweetness rising from the core. It's somehow airier, like a gourmand done in devore velvet rather than heavy damask. It also vaguely reminds me of Hanae Mori #4. Of course all these facts point to the theory that if you own any of the above, there's not much point in owing La Vie est Belle as well. That's for you and your Visa to decide.

The lasting power and projection of La Vie Est Belle, available as eau de Parfum, are both very very good, a technically able fragrance, and though I wouldn't be too displeased to be in the company of the woman wearing it, I wouldn't buy a full bottle for myself all the same.

La Vie Est Belle is the newest Lancome fragrance, available on the market from autumn 2012 in major department stores. The concept of this fragrance is centered on real beauty in small things, freedom from conventions and the wisdom to go after one's heart.
The (beautiful) flacon is a redesigned version of a Lancome bottle from 1949 from the brand's archives. Actress Julia Roberts is the face of the campaign, shot by director Tarsem Singh.

NB: I shared a sample with a friend who works in the press and got a preview herself. 

Jean Paul Gaultier Classique: fragrance review & history

Uncanningly similar to the dressmaker's dummy bottle of Shocking by Schiaparelli (1935), a powerful and iconic animalic oriental of a long lost era, fashion's enfant terrible Jean Paul Gaultier began his career in perfumes with his own -originally eponymous (1993), later renamed Classique- Schocking copy bottle, that hid a floriental of intense sweetness and powderiness. The inspiration for Gaultier was his beloved and -we surmiss- glamorous grandmother's vanity with its vats of face powder and nail polish remover smelling of acetone. Interestingly the perfume however plays with this perception of femininity in nuanced ways which defy an accurate transliteration. Despite all that, it's a perfume I can't really stomach, but it deserves its own analysis.

Eye-Catching Looks for Classique
But it is the bottle and presentation that will go down in history, originally in a pink metal corset, later given a frosted glass costume over the smooth glass body of the bottle, so to speak; and then given all kind of variations in all the colours and patterns of the rainbow for limited editions and summer flankers. The box gives an avant-garde touch; like shipped cargo, functional and brown-beige, while the bottle is encased inside the box in a metal can, "like the ones for cat food at the supermarket", as Gaultier put it. Meow....
The commercials were equally eye-catching and memorable, with variations on the theme of femininity, conceived by master image creator Jean Baptiste Mondino to the soundtrack of Casta Diva from Bellini's Norma, as sung by Maria Callas.

Interestingly, if we're to examine the feminist and cultural subtext of the perfume visuals, the Jean Pauls Gaultier commercials themselves have become markedly tamer and tamer as the years went by, reflecting a more sedate "sexy" view of femininity, a conservative retake on the mistress which marks her man's memory with her perfume (alongside her corset and high heels; a panoply of restrictive femme gear that places woman on the pedestral of an object) Contrast with the eclectic bunch of sui generis characters sharing one common element: their love for JPG perfume from two decades ago. Or the apogee of quirkiness in a gay gender playing game in the combined commercials for Le Male and Classique from 2002.
Even the models were quirkier looking back then (Eve Salvail with her trademark shaved head, Kristen McMenamy with her irregular features...to the predictable beauty of Michelle Buswell) and we're just talking about nothing further than the 1990s.


Alice Classique commercial from 1995


Le Diner Classique commercial from 1997


Classique & Le Male commercial from 2002

Scent Description
The opening of Classique is rich in mandarin orange, peach, plum and cassis (a synthetic base that recaretes a berry/currant note), sherbety and sparkling-waxy thanks to the sheen provided by decanal (aldehyde C10), a characteristic element in the archetype No.5. The metaphor of nail polish is made through benzyl acetate, possessing jasmine-like and pear-drops notes. The heart is predictably rosy like the hue of the juice inside, with powerful cinnamic roses and damascones (synthesized molecules that give off intensely rosy-fruity tonalities) given an even fatter nuance by the inclusion of orange flower and ylang ylang, indolic and lushly sweet. A faint hint of spice is accounted by lily and ginger, but it's weak to really characterise the composition as a spicy floral; it resolutely stays within the sweet fruity floral with a wink to the floriental direction.
It is imperative that one loves powdery nuances in fragrances to like Classique, as the quite powdery base is built on a contrast of woody-amber Ambrox with vanillin, the two building to epic proportions of  intense diffusion. A little orris note opens an interesting discourse of dryness in the base, beneath the amber-vanilla there is a musky-earthy footnote with a hint of animal; perhaps an ironic meta-comment on Shocking itself by perfumer Jacques Cavallier? Not enough, hidden under the syrup...




Le Boudoir Classique commercial from 2007


L'Appartment Classique commercial from 2009

The Perfumer's References & the Zeitgeist
Cavallier did cite classics, such as Chanel No.5, within the formula but interjected modern elements as well resulting in what proved to be a contemporary commercial hit. You might be forgiven for thinking Classique is va-va-voom material, only it is so for those people who can't help being a bit too flamboyant. For all its intensity and almost cloying fruitiness, it escaped the seal of "powerhouse" that Dior's Poison or CK Obsession bore in the previous decade. The era was ripe for a disruptive aesthetic so  the blinding paleness of aquatics and the surypy element of "fruities" led this dance.

JPG's Classique consolidated its place by playing upon an idea that had already found its culmination in Lancome's Tresor in 1990: The peachy rosiness of Sophia Grosjman's modern classic had been the building block upon which a thousand beauty products from lotions and hair products to fine fragrance and fabric softener followed. Tresor's formula has plenty to admire in, but perhaps it's too ubiquitous to claim one's own. But whereas Tresor achieves the perilous balance of naturally lush bosom kept under decorum thanks to its solid perfume structure, Classique for all its rosy girlishness shows rather too much nipple for my taste.

Donna Karan Gold: fragrance review

Donna Karan strived for a lushly feminine lily effect with her stupendous Gold fragrance for women in 2006. Its mix of vibrant lily with animalic profundity puts Gold on a pedestral of worship, that of a stony goddess who demands the coming of Choephoroi.

The fragrance necessitated no less than 3 perfumers of the caliber of Yann Vasnier, Calice Becker and Rodrigo-Flores Roux. Usually that would be a recipe for disaster (too many opinions and twinkering often lead to an incoherent vision), yet in Gold the result is none the worse for trying. On the contrary.

Scent Description 

The main accord in DK Gold focuses on bright, trembling with life lily, suave woods plus musk, effecting a round and creamy composition accented with discernable jasmine adding its indolic glory. The opening of Donna Karan Gold has the dewy freshness of green tonalities of muguet, vaguely reminiscent of the green overture of Annick Goutal's Des Lys (another floriental focusing on Casablanca lilies) and the sharper start of Lys Mediteranée by F.Malle. Although the floral phase is clearly discernible from the start, the more the scent dries down the more the sensuous aspects reveal themselves beneath the droplets of lucid coolness. Underneath, a camphoreous scent is peeking through, like a riddle on the edge of the screenshot in a Greenaway film : now you see it and now you don't.
The development of Gold in the Eau de Parfum concentration adds a very alluring animalic submantle which hints at ductile leather and ambergris rather than the traditional resinous amber mentioned, yet it doesn't do so with too much rebelliousness, remaining a sensual touch warming the proceedings and adding gravitas. Perhaps Gold, although certainly not ground-breaking, is a knowing wink of Donna Karan to her first perfume, the long discontinued Donna Karan New York in the phallic black bottle, which utilized lily, amber and suede to great effect.

Concentrations & Notes

Please note that Donna Karan Gold comes in Eau de Parfum concentration, which is warmer and much more complex than the more aqueous and linear Eau de Toilette, as well as a Sparkling Eau de Toilette. Between those versions Eau de Parfum is highly recommended as per above, also being much closer to the revered Serge Lutens Un Lys. Parfum amplifies the cistus and incense with more vanilla.
The elegant bottle is created by jewellery designer Robert Lee Morris.

Current distribution of DK Gold is bust; get some while you can on online discounters.

Notes for DK Gold: Casablanca Lily, Amber, Acacia, White Clove, Golden Balsam*, Gold Pollen and Patchouli

 *a mix of Peru tolu balsam, olibanum, benzoin, vanilla, and cistus

Photo of French actress Eva Green via Google (have since forgotten the exact source)

Etat Libre d'Orange Bijou Romantique: fragrance review

~You let yourself be impressed by that sailor with the pierced ear?

~But no...

Caïn to Pandora Groosvenore (nicknamed "bijou romantique" by said sailor) in Hugo Pratt's La ballata del mare salato/ La ballade de la mer salee comics book starring Corto Maltese

The French have a saying "le parfum bijou" denoting both the literal sense (a perfume carried in a jewel receptible) and the metaphorical (a fragrance that adorns and highlights the beauty of its wearer). Bijou Romantique by Etat Libre d'Orange comes with little of the irreverence that the French brand exhibits and plenty of the beautyfying factor. I'd call it féérique myself (fairy-like, fairy-made). It's delicate, lovely, and oddly savoury, breaking the impression we have of oriental gourmand (i.e. dessert-like) perfumes into tiny slivers, much as it was done with Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu, their other new release for 2012. Bijou Romantique stops just short of being "skanky" or "dirty" (in a good way) -see Amaranthine by Penhaligon's- offering a deceptive "bombshell" fragrance for those women (and the adventurous men sharing it) who demand that their perfume acts as morale boosting for those approaching them. An appeal as timeless as the beauty whose virtue has a "price far above rubies", a Scriptures phrase that serves as the motto for the company.

Composed by perfumer Mathilde Bijaoui it's no wonder; it was Mathilde who signed the critically acclaimed Tilda Swinton Like This, you see, and she's also the composer of that controversial ~but eminently interesting~ accord of fig and caviar in Thierry Mugler's Womanity.

With Bijou Romantique Bijaoui offers a nuanced composition that hovers on the precipice between savory and sweet, rich and satisfying, exploiting the subtle chocolate-like facets of iris and vetiver and contrasting them with the natural creaminess of vanilla and benzoin resin with a fresh lemony top note. Laboratoire Mane’s captive Evee ® molecule bridges the gap between the sweet elements and the soft rosy spices. As Bijaoui explains herself in an interview on French TV: "My luck at Mane is to have an important team of researchers constantly developing new molecules and finalizing new extraction techniques. Thanks to their extraction technique called "Jungle Essence" we perfumers at Mane, were able to create a new olfactory family, the sweet/savory family. The Jungle Essence technology allowed us to extract scents never extracted before: fig and caviar. Jungle Essence offers new possibilities, new scents, using ingredients non extractable through conventional methods. (nuts, coconut…) The Jungle Essence process produces a natural extract. This extract can be directly used in perfumed or flavoured compositions."
In Bijou Romantique the proceedings take on a darker, more complex character in the main plot, thanks to the inclusion of a musky-woody background where the sweet-liquorice note of patchouli is clearly detectable. Patchouli is of course a beloved niche fragrances element, coming back from the hippie 1960s with a vengeance, but in contrast to Nobril Immense by the same company where it's too potent, too sweet, here it's nuanced with the protagonist: the ripe fruity note of tropical ylang ylang and the soft rosy nuance of pink pepper.

Tender, inviting and multi-facetted, Bijou Romantique is like a nostalgic cameo pinned on the edge of a low neckline. Farewell Pandora!

The transparency and cozy gourmand factor of Bijou Romantique is sure to entice those who liked The Different Company's Oriental Lounge or Fendi's discontinued (but marvellous) Theorema and might be of interest for anyone exploring niche gourmand perfumes (such as the Micallef line Les Notes Gourmandes or those by Les Néréides)

Notes for Etat Libre d'Orange Bijou Romantique:

Bergamot, Italian lemon, pink pepper essence, ylang-ylang, clary sage, Tuscan iris, Jungle Essence coconut, Haitian vetiver, patchouli, benzoin, vanilla.

Bijour Romantique is available as Eau de Parfum 50ml at the official site, Henri Bendels, MiN New York and online from Luckyscent and Les Santeurs.

pic via http://ilmioblog-lu.blogspot.com and http://avozportalegrense.blogspot.com

Maria Candida Gentile Cinabre: fragrance review

Much like Sophia Loren's is a spicy, fiery beauty that defies mere prettiness in favor of exquisite lines, panoramic vistas and hypnotic eyes, Cinabre by Maria Candide Gentile, a force to reckon with, is the type of Italian fragrance I love to love. There's just no way around it; this is a romantic, sexy rose perfume to turn even rose-dubious hearts fire-engine-red with desire!

Cinabre tricks one into thinking it is a cinnamon amber composition and even though there is the intense spice element present and the warmth of ambery resins indeed, one would be mistaken to view it so. Cinabre is a big, honking spicy rose the size of a house and gorgeous for it! Proper Italian fragrances have a sort of lived-in coziness, sunny and outgoing like their compatriots, appearing from a distance less distingué than an aloof French, but at heart they reveal an intricate, complex structure that can be even superior than their neighbour's.

The initial top note in Cinabre is intensely spicy in a peppery way, short and hot, and soon cooled by the more sophisticated touch of ginger (these are clearly sequential stages, pay attention and watch them deliciously unfold, as signora Gentile weaves them artfully into the plot). The rose is lush, all out, sensuous, a deep red rose that accompanies erotic messages delivered under the cloak of night. This sexy rose blend is no accident: it blends essences of many varieties, Moroccan Splendens, May rose absolute with vanilla and myrrh into an embrace that is strong, but a little dangerous at the same time. The resinous elements bring out an orientalized effect to the rose, eschewing the powdery or pot-pourri associations one might have with the rose flower.

This is a fragrance built italianate style, with corbels at every projecting eave and belvedere to calmly show off exquisite ingredients put to artful use. Bravissima, signora Gentile!

Notes for Maria Candida Gentile Cinabre
top: ginger and pepper
middle: opulent rose accord
base: opoponax, benzoin and vanilla.

pic of Sophia Loren via MaryLou.Cinnamon

Aftelier Secret Garden: fragrance review

The velvet feel of rose, the sweet nectar of jasmine, the tartness of raspberry...the human presence, felt subtly like the paws of furry animals trailing amongst the fallen leaves of an unattended garden...feelings, memories, awakenings, scattered; brought back like the rays of spring sun after a long, torturous winter. The endless repetition of the cycle of life just a snapsnot in the all too ephemeral space of childhood. This is what The Secret Garden stands for.

Secret Garden the perfume is named after the homonymous 1910 novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett. In it a young girl blossoms herself, after discovering a barren secret garden and bringing it back to life.This coming of age story and the metamorphosis of a sour, unaffactionate brat into an empathetic human being. The garden motif serves as the symbol of living things being spiritual healers. And how could this not be, as all natural perfumery, as represented by Aftelier, focuses exactly on the life force of essences derived from outdoors.

All naturals guru perfumer Mandy Aftel used two truly precious ingredients into the formula of Secret Garden, much like has been her practice in her opus, exploring the length and the breadth of the natural world. These two natural animalic essences are all but vanished from modern perfumery (except for very, very specific and far between cases): a batch of old civet, which she bought from a retired perfumer, and castoreum tinctured from the beaver. These bring out the warmth, the candied aspect of the floral notes, opening them up, citrusy honeyed backdrops of newly-discovered joy, a glimpse into a new world full of colour, of aroma, of pleasure. Jasmine and rose are the chief magicians, mingled into a duality that represents the heroine's, Mary Lennox's, past and present: jasmine sambac ~humid, narcotic, languorous, candied~ for India; rose ~satin-like, sentimental, feminine~ for Enland. The floral notes take more than a supporting role in this typically floriental composition, a classic aimed at everyone who loves perfume, boosting the generosity of the heart; hesperidic and seemingly spicy up top, vibrating with passion on the underside. The underlying sweetness is akin to opening up yourself to the wonder that is life.

Notes for Aftelier Secret Garden:
top: bergamot, bois de rose, Geraniol, blood orange
middle: jasmine sambac, raspberry (compounded isolate), Turkish rose, blue lotus
base: civet, castoreum, vanilla, deertongue*, benzoin, aged patchouli

*NOT an animal ingredient

The lasting power is quite good for an all naturals scent, no complaints there. 

Aftelier's Secret Garden is available in a 1/4 oz. bottle ($150), a 30 ml Eau de Parfum spray ($150), a 2 ml Mini bottle ($45), and a sample size ($6).
Available directly from www.aftelier.com



Painting by Marc Chagall, The Three Candles

Amouage Honour Woman & Honour Man: fragrance reviews

I distinctly recall watching Cio-Cio San ritualistically commit suicide with her father's knife at the end scene of Madama Butterfly and thinking that despite the glorious music, the storyline lacked the tragic depths of Euripides's Medea, fresh in my mind from school. It was more simplistic too: one straight plot line, girl wins boy, girl loses boy, girl commits hara kiri. Surely, both heroines were cruelly abandonded by their foreign lovers for whom they sacrificed everything, but somehow taking one's life seemed to my childish eyes as an easy way out; eternally pining for the grave sin of filicide, uniting both tragic lovers & parents in pain, seemed vastly more weighty. But the Japanese notion of honour wanted it so and further exploration of Japonism acclimatized me with the idea in the end. Honour Woman and Honour Man, fragrances inspired ~as Christopher Chong revealed~ by the ending act of Puccini's Madama Butterfly, come as a stop at a multifarious course.

The prolific art director for Omani-based firm Amouage, C. Chong, is issuing perfume duos for some time now, having the best noses creating under his guidance: From the majestic Jubilation 25 for women and Jubilation XXV for men to the sweeping Epic for Men and Epic for Women, the rich fragrances have lured lovers of true luxury and superb raw materials creating something of a mini cult. Even when the skeleton is recognisable as belonging to a specific category met again, the fleshing out of the robust contours is impressive enough to warrant uniqueness.

In order to assess both Honour editions, it's essential to examine how they interpret the concept: Instead of playing out the scenario of Puccini's heroes in one's mind, it might be better to see the scents as a modern extention of a viewer who sees their shadows cast in the wings; oriental elements petering, but those are not reserved for the Far East, they also draw upon the Middle-Eastern tradition: incense, elemi resin, jasmine, the Spice Route, pepper worth its weight in gold and finally Indian tuberose...This amalgam of richness is woven into a tapestry that is not reminiscent of any one culture, yet stands on the edge between ancient, rich in resins & flower essences natural perfumery and the modern ethereal treatment that ensures fragrances remain contemporary as if fueled by electrified air.
Both Honour Woman and Honour Man are typically Amouage in their individual way, showcasing what natural oils can do to instil richness and depth in fragrance, possessing as they do a sort of 3D-expansion which reveals facets interlocking with each other in an olfactory Rubik's Cube.

Amouage Honour Woman, created by perfumers Alexandra Carlin and Violaine Collas, is galvanised by the power of pink jasmine, fruity, succulent and nectarous as if oozing sexy honey, floriental, womanly and seductive and yet light enough to be enjoyed during the summer. The bouquet reminded me of a less campy Vamp à NY, chokeful as that one is too of real, vibrant natural white flowers, hints of big Bazooka gum pieces laced with banana-fruit facets. Smelling Honour Woman on top, I'm struck by the swift progression from the peppery-camphoraceous green note which foreshadows tuberose (in reality spicy notes and that certain subtle root-beer touch which is so familiar to Americans) into the intensely sweet, fruity and upbeat jasmine heart that is all out nature red in tooth and claw. The white floral essences stimulate Honour Woman into a melodious cadenza that seems never ending, supremely lasting onto blotter, clothes, nostrils, soft skin, decolletage...And yet, the supporting of that floral sweetness by somber notes like green vetiver and serene incense makes Honour Woman a pliable, real femme who can yield under the power of love, rather than an hysterical madwoman who scatters her demands right and left. The success and beauty of Amouage Honour Woman lie in the balance of diva-esque characteristcs with the cool attitude of seeing the brightest morning light as the most natural thing in the world...which it is.

Notes for Amouage Honour Woman:
Top notes are coriander, pepper and rhuburb;
middle notes are carnation, jasmine, gardenia, tuberose and lily-of-the-valley;
base notes are vetiver, opoponax, amber, incense and leather.

Amouage Honour Man, composed by perfumer Nathalie Feisthauer is a decidedly spicy fragrance, with oriental-woody leanings. The intensity of its spicy top, a veritable plunge into the pepper shaker, is unsettling, grabbing you from both lapels and smacking down into submission. But oh, you want to discover what this tough story unfolds later on! Indeed, the pepper becomes almost oily, like the half smoky-half musty odour when you crack a mace, more than a tad resinous, thanks to elemi (a naturally pepper-like essence that compliments frankincense and enters into the blend of Eastern cencer incense mixes). The equally terpenic sides of this mix are soon embraced by the distinct green-rosy-camphor of geranium and blended woody notes of cedar, patchouli and vetiver, borrowing a slice of Amouage's Reflection. The cunning in Honour Man lies into presenting each note as a distinct pitch with sonorous timbre, yet also as unifying them into a chromatic scale that is heard like bass coming out from subwoofers in the larynx of some smoldering lion afar, coming closer and closer by the minute. In no way threatening, but impressive all the same, Honour Man should have lovers of Poivre Samarcande, Bang and Poivre 23 sniff appreciatively and try to unravel the complicated thread of its Eastern mythos for western men.

Notes for Amouage Honour Man:
Top notes are pink pepper and pepper;
middle notes are geranium, elemi and nutmeg;
base notes are vetiver, musk, patchouli, Virginia cedar, incense and tonka bean.

Eau de Parfum, 50ml for £120. Available at Harrods, Selfridges, Les Scenteurs and Amouage boutique, 14 Lowndes Street, SW1. Soon available stateside.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Amouage fragrance reviews and news

In the interests of full disclosure I tried the new scents via official samples sent by the company

Trussardi for Women & Donna Trussardi: fragrance reviews

There are fragrances which appear like a ghost from another world: New apparition, same old quirks; there's just something immediately common and yet at the same time quite different. Trussardi has two classic feminine fragrances in their repertoire which are great and they're both utterly lovely in differing ways, yet with a common calling card: Italian elegance and panache!

Trussardi for Women is elegant and chic as befits a classic floral chypre: Essentially timeless, yet so characteristic of the 1980s when this type of fragrance romped the executive ladders across the Western world, Trussardi came out in 1982. This is a cool customer: I can imagine that the all-white mock-crock flask bottle with the superimposed tabac leather medallion with the afgan dog profile (leather goods company Trussardi's trademark) is appealing to a certain type of person: She is always elegant even in 100F heat, preferably in all white, intelligent in a non studious way, more than a bit of a ruthless calculator, rather like Kathleen Turner in Body Heat (Surely Barbara Stanwick's best successor!) The fragrance inside however is all that and more: Hell, it can melt even the kindest of hearts! The characteristic perfume-y start is typically 1980s power chypre fragrance and directly derived by such powerhouses of unabashed audacity as the classic Bandit. Lovers of the very perfumey, very arid Gucci No.3 will recall how Italians embraced this type of fragrance and suffused it with a sense of luxury.

Trussardi for Women is indeed a sharp, arid composition with a good amount of pungent leather, centered around the classic bouquet of rose, jasmine and lily of the valley; the latter for its expansive properties which boost the effect of the deceoptive "cleanliness" inside and lets the other florals bloom ~among them a hint of tuberose. None of the notes are especially airated, creating a dense, pungent and slightly masculine effect with a hidden sensuality: the sandalwood, styrax resin and patchouli detectable at the dry down phase of the fragrance create a come hither vibe that is hard to miss. 

"You're not too smart, are you?...I like that in a man" she says....

On the contrary, Donna Trussardi, this time composed by Jean Guichard in 1994, is a much sunnier, open-hearted and more outwardly seductive composition that veers into floriental. Although there is a floral heart once again, the ambience is different, set on warmer tonalities, like the smile of a genuine seniora Italiana. The departure is much less sharp or perfumey, choosing instead the synergy of mandarin and ginger which imbues the fragrance in the saturated colours of the grand Italian masters. From then on, if you lean closely, you might detect several flowers, all singing in unison yet sometimes one can overtop the other in a game of hide &seek. I detect ylang ylang, carnation and a smidge of tuberose. But the real deal in Donna Trussardi comes from the unfurling of a classic balsamic accord like sweet suede, built on labdanum and benzoin (which compliments the sweeter elements of the tropical ylang ylang with its vanillic undertone). Although a couple of elements from the chyprish predecessor are surviving (the citrusy counterpoint, the rose, the patchouli layer), those who experience Donna Trussardi in the squarish bottle with the rounded shoulders are a long way away from the prayer mantis mating game of the first version in the white bottle. Their seduction is more woman-next-door and for that reason more insidious.

I love them both for all the wrong reasons...

Somewhat confusingly, Trussardi for women (or Trussardi by Trussardi)  is also seen as Trussardi per Donna, which might make some believe the 1994 version is the older one: beware, the packaging is totally different and easy to distinguish. Both Trussardi for Women and Donna Trussardi are a rare sight nowadays in my corner of the world, but discounters and online auctions might be a source of procuring some.


pics via punmiris.com

Oscar de la Renta Esprit d'Oscar: fragrance review & bottle giveaway

It's unusual in perfumery for the start of this century to encounter a modern composition which focuses on that loaded term which is dreaded by so many among the (younger) set: "a powdery fragrance". And yet, Esprit d'Oscar by Oscar de la Renta comes as an eminent sample of a youthful, modern re-interpretation of an age-old theme: the soulful cadenza of Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue. An old-school mainstream fragrance? Rub your eyes really well, perfumistas, this is no joke.

In more parts than it's considered good form to admit when launching a new fragrance, Esprit d'Oscar follows in the footsteps of the original Oscar by Oscar de la Renta from 1977; but that's a good thing! The lineage descending from the iconic Guerlain was evident then as it is now, but whereas the original Oscar was a symphonic floriental with the emphasis on the waft of its bittersweet tuberose message fanned on precious woods, in Esprit d'Oscar the melody is replayed with clarity on a single instrument with multiple keys, like a clavichord. The aniseed and violet accents that give the heliotrope in L'Heure Bleue its wistful, nostalgic character are here substituted by the sweetening of the almond facets of heliotropin. The citrusy top notes which open the fragrance on the other hand provide the necessary freshness to appeal to modern women of both younger and somewhat older age, shopping for a fragrance they can claim their own. Noting that Love, Chloé is also a recent entry operating on unmissable powdery tones, I think we're on to some new trend: old becomes new again!
Perfumer Frank Voekl is known for his streamlined approach which aims at a fragrance that acts as a mantle rather than armoury or clarion-call. On the whole, the axis of the new scent is tilted more to soft floral-oriental or even floral gourmand than to merely floral bouquet, and lovers of both categories are encouraged to sample. The leitmotif of Esprit d'Oscar rests on a fluffy almondy powdery note that supports, like a pampering duvet on which you fall back down on with relief, the floral notes of jasmine. The lemony inclusion lifts the jasmine heart just so, producing a refreshing, effervescent jasmine/white floral note. The white floral heart is rich, sexy and feminine, but non indolic. The synergy of vetiver and sweet (clean) musk (plus I believe a smidge of sandalwood) conspire to enhance the impression of clouds fusing into one another on the late afternoon sky.

So how did the brief begin? Ann Gottlieb, master creative director and responsible for several best-selling classics from the 80s onwards, had a specific context: "To capture the essence of what a woman desires in her fragrance, Oscar turned to his daughter Eliza to help create Esprit d'Oscar, an unmistakably feminine floral-oriental. Esprit d'Oscar opens with a distinct sparkle, realized through a bright, citrus bouquet of Sicilian lemon, bergamot and citron. At its heart remain fresh florals: Egyptian jasmine, orange flower and tuberose. A combination of musk, heliotrope, tonka bean and vetiver give Esprit d'Oscar a warm, long-lasting base."
Whimsical, romantic, beautiful....recommended, I say!

The bottle is even more beautiful up close. Inspired by the original Oscar Parfum bottle design, Oscar envisioned a package for Esprit d'Oscar that would marry the feel of the iconic original, with a fresh contemporary look. Sculptural glass and sleek feminine contours characterize the Esprit d'Oscar bottle. On top of its translucent flower cap, a glass pearl represents a single dewdrop, a symbol from the original Oscar story. When he was a boy, Oscar de la Renta imagined that if he woke up very early, he could take the dew from flowers to create a perfume…and so he did.

Notes for Esprit d'Oscar by Oscar de la Renta:
Top: Sicilian lemon, bergamot and citron
Heart: Egyptian jasmine, orange blossom and tuberose.
Base: musk, heliotrope, tonka bean and vetiver

Esprit d'Oscar is available in the (quite lasting and satisfying in its sillage) concentration of Eau de Parfum in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz bottles for 78$ and 98$ respectively at select department stores. You can see info on oscardelarenta.com. Right now the code OSCAR10 will get you complimentary ground shipping.

For our readers I have one full bottle to give away!! If you want to be eligible, please comment including what you'd like to read on Perfume Shrine next. Draw remains open till Sunday midnight.

Painting by artbycedar
Disclosure: Sampled scent myself at store; giveaway bottle is a promo.

Cacharel Loulou: fragrance review

When Cacharel Loulou first came out in 1987, there was a wonderful TV ad set to the romantic Pavane, Opus 50 by Gabriel Fauré and veiled in the mysterious bluish tones of the print ad. It featured a slip of a girl in a classic 20’s bob haircut dressed in a dark stretch dress (so Parisian at the time, very Azzedine Alaia!), swaying hurriedly through space on what seemed a film set, and when a voice called out “Loulou”, she turned to us –the viewers- replying “Oui, c’est moi” (i.e.yes, that’s me). It transported the Cacharel-trademark hazy contours and grainy shots of photographer Sarah Moon to the next level: a Lolitesque seduction. It has haunted me ever since...

The inspiration of Loulou by Cacharel: Loulou was meant to evoke the great film actress Louise Brooks and her Lulu role in the silent 1928 Pabst film Pandora’s Box (tamer than its title would hint at, but not by much considering). Louise Brooks has captured the imagination of discerning cinephiles ever since. Her trademark haircut (that actually recalls Cleopatra herself) has inspired many women and men alike. In fact Guido Crepax, the Italian sketch artist of “Valentina”, fashioned his notorious heroine of a vivid imagination and lush posterior attributes on her. The comic book had been turned into a RAI miniseries back in the late 80’s starring Demetra Hampton. The erotic TV-series was heavy in cultural referencing; indeed one episode was called ..."Lulu", reprising the Brooks character.

Loulou the Cacharel fragrance is almost forgotten today, although slightly less than those episodes, although it hasn’t been discontinued. In an age that pushes celebrity scents to an apotheosis, the natural urge of the perfume fanatic would be to turn to niche scents and/or classics from the distant past. Indeed this has been the case with many, as current literature on the subject indicates. That leaves many lovely perfumes of a more recent crop to the shade. Pity if you think about it. I had used the perfume for a while back, enjoying the wink in the eye it provided, the naiveté, the pure élan. It was perfection for those times!

The formula was composed by perfumer Jean Guichard, who is also responsible for Obsession (another 80’s hit), Eden (another forgotten Cacharel), and Deci Dela ( the delectable light chypre by Nina Ricci). Loulou bears the mark of the decade’s excess : lush and rich, it would seem completely out of place up until ten years ago when gourmands entered the scene. Somewhere between floral and oriental and with a similar feel to both Oscar de la Renta and Poison, Cacharel Loulou can also be viewed as a distant cousin of Guerlain's L’Heure Bleue. The sweet and a little melancholic heliotrope plus anise ties them together. The Cacharel fragrance opens on the characteristic note of cassis, a synthetically recreated berry base, quite sweet. This may become overwhelming on some, but the assistance of bergamot and aniseed manage to soften the blow of the top notes. Violet, mace and plum add their smooth nuances along with an armful of ylang-ylang, jasmine, marigold and a smidgen of tiare (that tropical flower of Tahiti), although one would be hard pressed to locate any of those individually, except for heliotrope perhaps which has a soft almondy scent, imparting a powdery aura along with the earthy orris: The feeling is almost retro, much like the whole ambience of the scent is after all. The fragrance lasts and lasts on the skin, suffused with musks and woods, with the insistence of tonka bean, a hay-like vanillic seed of a West African tree.

The bottle of Loulou looks best in the parfum or splash version (as depicted in the ad): a turquoise polygonal opaline that continues the house’s love affair with opaline (later to be reprised in green for Eden) topped with a dark red pointy stopper and garlanded with a burgundy red tassel : the contrast of colours is daring and unique, the concept vaguely inspired by Poison according to Michael Edwards. The Eau de parfum sprayer is sadly not as pretty.
To me Loulou will always remain the smell to match the young girl that had first caught my eye in the TV ads and myself back then : insouciant , oblivious to her own seductiveness. A wonderful fragrance, if rather sweet for everyday.



The commercial still produces a sigh of delightful and wistful reminiscence in me, like a dog who is sighing, her paws tucked in and her ears down at the completion of a tender, sad patting as if to part forever.

Photo of Demetra Hampton as Valentina via facebook. Loulou ad via Parfum de Pub. Louis Brooks in Pandora's Box via seraphicpress.com

Annick Goutal Songes: fragrance review

There is nothing as captivating the imagination as the promise of what one doesn't have: The lure of tropical paradises amidst the harshest snowfall makes us forget that by summer we will be missing those white flakes and long for taking the cashmere and mohair down from the attic. Songes by Annick Goutal comes with the unctuous step of an intoxicating promise of sunshine and the warmth of a summery golden afternoon, right when winter paves its path onto spring, to make us dream and lose ourselves. Because Songes means exactly...dreams: the dreams of a newlywed, looking on life through the eyes of a girl becoming a woman who embarks on a new adventure in her life; perhaps the more rewarding of them all, the miracle of keeping love alive through it all.


An intense opera of white florals set in a tropical tone climate like "Les Pecheurs des Perles", Songes was inspired by an evening walk in a garden on the exotic island of Mauritius by Camille Goutal, Annick's daughter, while she was on her honeymoon. Camille lovingly collaborated with tried & trusted tenured Goutal perfumer Isabelle Doyen, on the creation of the fragrance in 2006. Interestingly, even though the inspiration is classically exotic-tropical, Camille revealed that the middle and base notes of Songes are also reflecting John William Waterhouse's painting aesthetic, especially as presented in the famous painting of Ophelia. Somehow the two are hard to reconcile and I'm not sure that this Goutal fragrance truly captures the balance, as it tilts more to the former part than the latter. Still, it's quite stunning.

Opening a bottle of Songes I'm struck by its diva-esque mien, all heady, entrance-making material, almost heaving, but also its inherent modesty and classy sensuality; as if the facade is flamboyant because it just can't help it, a bit of a Marilyn Monroe persona if you will: Glamorous but sensitive at heart. Frangipani (with a tiny peachy facet here, less than on the fresh bush) and potent ylang ylang immediately hit my nose, complicated into webs of indolic jasmine, sweet, yet with a slightly bitter element in the background which keeps it from saccharine overload. The frangipani is less fruity than in Ormonde Jayne's rendition of Frangipane Absolute, while the jasmine is the sambac variety which can have an ever higher pitch than the European and Middle Eastern grandiflora variety. There is a tuberose-like effect too, creamy and mollified instead of eucalyptus-green (a la Carnal Flower) or rubbery (a la Gardenia Passion); more like the tropical tiare gardenia than real tuberose. This stage with the small incensey-resinous hint resembles the velours of Noix de Tubereuse and shouldn't have tuberose-phobics all up in arms. The drydown of Songes consists of a woody-ambery accord (with creamier vanilla in the higher concentration) that revolves around pencil shavings and balsamic softeness/soapiness; a very delightful coda to an aria that has been bold and flamboyant as befits a Grand White Floral.


Altghough Annick Goutal fragrances often fall victims to criticism from hard-core aficionados on their scent being light and transparent, resulting in delicate sillage, Songes is one fragrance in the stable (alongside a few others such as Eau de Fier, Sables and Gardénia Passion) which does not follow that rule. In fact the Eau de Parfum version of Songes seems dense and a little opaque, creating an effect that could be considered engulfing for those who are more sensitive to their own scent trail; its vanilla creaminess however should please those who are seeking a sweeter edition of this sultry scent. In Songes Eau de Toilette concentration the proportion of space between the notes creates an aerated effect; like the perfect petit financier bite it has just the right sponginess without detracting from the satisfaction that it leaves on the palate. Both concentrations are especially lasting and sillage monsters, necessitating very steady hands and homeopathetical dosage in order to remain desirable and not cloying.
Over time, Songes can change colour in the bottle: The regular shade is golden-ambery but the inclusion of natural jasmine extracts in the formula conspires to give an orange tint to the Eau de Toilette and even a reddish hue to the Eau de Parfum!
A limited edition bottle in Baccarat crystal is available for Songes, the traditional boule topped by a romantic half moon.

Notes for Annick Goutal Songes:
frangipani, tiare, jasmine, incense, vanilla, copahu balm, pepper, ylang-ylang, vetiver, sandalwood, amber, styrax.

Painting Dreams on the Beach 1934 by Salvador Dali.

Photo of Camille Goutal & Isabelle Doyen by Antoine de Perceval 2007 via Swell City Guide

Yves Saint Laurent Belle d'Opium: fragrance review

When the perfume gods are chastising your Hubris (in this case taking the original Opium and changing the hell out of its familiar, groundbreaking spicy bouquet "thanks" to IFRA restrictions), Nemesis comes in the guise of bland innocuousness meant to flop, namely Belle d'Opium. Long forgotten are the droves of protest ~and inevitable adoration~ on the addictive powers of the original Opium by Yves Saint Laurent; the almost contraband repackaging in certain countries so that it wouldn't pose challenges at customs; and the Australian peanut growing governor who banned its sales in his county. Belle d'Opium merely raises an eyebrow at best with its almost masculine structure, which isn't wholly intentional and belies the fanfare and the Romain Gavras commercial (watch here) with which it was launched to the scene a little while ago.


It's no fault of the competent perfumers, Honorine Blanc and Alberto Morillas, but rather a capitulation to the sacrificial pyre that the "Intentional Fragrant Abyss" (our own patented IFRA acronym, which seems more like it) is pushing most modern perfumes into. Firmenich, who produces the juice for bean-counters L'Oréal, is obviously too afraid to bypass these new restrictions and given a cheapskate budget they are following the bland and confused brief to the letter: Make a programatic spicy floral-oriental for people who are afraid to venture outside Lahore for fear of coming to terms with real poverty and those who think visiting Paris means shopping for scarves signés, stuffing on croissants and doing Le Louvre in under 3 hours.
Oddly, the perfumers were obliged to pronounce such silliness as "the fragrance was inspired by France's cultural references such as the Belle de Jour film or Belle du Seigneur book [they wish!] but also international references, like Bella Swan in Twilight [there you go!] who is a fresh-faced young woman, a romantic figure later acquiring dark psychoses." [sic, I kid you not]. It's very bad timing that Armand de Villoutreys, president of Firmenich, was put on record in the September issue of Cosmétique Mag admiting there is no time for the company to work properly: "We receive an avalanche of briefs and the whole chain is overheated. It's mechanical, in the sense that we ought to be very quick and we don't have the necessary time to devote to each step". Uh huh...

Although the listed notes of Belle d'Opium include jasmine, gardenia, peach, sandalwood, lily and pepper, I'm scared to report that the whole smells of neither, but rather an abstract and shapeless spicy-woody composition, beggining with a muted fruity-cardamom note and ending in the familiar woody-ambery-patchouli drydown of myriads of modern fragrances, plus an incense hint. Spicy perfumes, like masterful ganster films, have the great advantage of having a core duet of players who battle for reign within the gang crossing each other and siding with other forces in order to prevail; you're at the edge of your seat to see who will overpower whom. Just observe the majestic (and statement-making) Poivre by Caron with its pepper & clove shot-down at dawn. If only Belle d'Opium had the guts to double-cross its partners, we might have something memorable in our hands. As it is, we're not only far from -even- PG13, but firmly into the Nickelodeon channel.

To add insult to injury, neither the sillage nor the lasting power are technically adequate for an Eau de Parfum, which ~with said perfumers involved~ suggests a quickly churned out "generic" please-the-masses deodorant for the price of a proper perfume.
What bugs me most? According to inside info I have the name Belle d'Opium was chosen to ride on the heels of Yves Saint Laurent's best-seller and will be eventually pulled in favour of simply "Belle". If Belle reminds you of... B'Elle (a fictionary flanker of Elle by the same brand maybe?), it's because that's the concept to begin with. Be Elle? Nah....Shame, really!

Available at major department stores in Eau de Parfum concentration (from 53 to 90 euros).

photo collage originally uploaded on stylista.gr

Bulgari Jasmin Noir: fragrance review

What does it say if a perfume writer ~who is supposed to stay atop trends and new things (or at the other end of the spectrum occupy herself with rhapsodising over classics and unearthing rare vintages)~ decides to write about a perfume by Italian jewellers, coming out as recently as 2008 and semi-forgotten amidst the plethora of new releases? Is it a testament to delayed reflexes, that upon revisiting Jasmin Noir by Bulgari (or Bvlgari if you want to keep the Roman spelling) several months after its launch, I found myself captivated mid-bottle by its rich, woody, full-bodied and curvaceous silhouette? At this point, I cannot deny the pull that a mainstream but really well-made fragrance can exert upon me.

After a handful of maudlin and wall-paperish "me too" scents by the brand in recent years, like Omnia Green Jade, Voile de Jasmin or Bulgari Aqua, I didn't really expect waves; yet I was pleasantly surprised to find myself curiously attached to my classic bottle which reprises the elegant, frosty glass lines of Bulgari Pour Femme, only this time in lacquered black. Perfumers Carlos Benaim and Sophie Labbée at IFF nailed it this time around: The composition smells rich and classy, with a succulent hint, but not too floral and rather subdued, fulfilling the criteria of modern consumers in the 25-40 group to which they originally catered for. A concept well visualised in the commercials featuring Kate Moss with serious bling on her neck. But the fragrance stands on its own two feet, away from any industry brief or statistical focus group aspirations.

If Jasmin Noir isn't more sung by the perfume trobadours, it has to do with a certain incongruity between name (and therefore promise) and delivery: This is a floral woody rather than the reverse, with segments taken from both Sensuous by Lauder and Tom Ford's Black Orchid, while the emphasis is neither on jasmine nor on any sinister noir proclivities. Bulgari themselves say: "Jasmin Noir is a flower of the imagination. It is white, immaculate, and conveyes pure mystery, revealing intriguing sensuality at nightfall". And I would have to agree with the imaginative part as well as the sensuous promise, if not the white descriptions which leads one to expect a white floral.
Bulgari's Jasmin Noir starts on the sparkling green note of budding gardenia (full of the piquant, fresh note of styralyl acetate) opening into a vague ~not very identifiable~ fresh jasmine vine accord which soon exits the scene. Floral haters shouldn't be frightened, nor should indole-phobics pause: this is the equivalent of a thriller by Roman Polanski; blink and you miss the scary parts, it's so subtle. Nutty and lactonic (milky) accents and the dominant, permeating, pleasant scent of licorice then appear, muting the floralcy and embracing the whole in a different sort of sensuality than that of white flowers; cozy, youthful sexy, very modern with a good dose of aromachemical Ambroxan, but not insipid. This stage lasts at sotto voce (we're talking quite discreet sillage here) almost for the duration of the fragrance's presence on skin, taking a subdued ambery-vanillic haze, flou and sustained for a long, long time. The perfect "I miss your scent on the sheets" kinda of fragrance...

People who like Tom Ford Black Orchid Voile de Fleur for its emphatically feminine floral notes (tuberose) and also like the woody backdrop of the original Black Orchid but are seeking to branch out a bit, are advised to try Jasmin Noir by Bulgari. Lovers of Guerlain's 90s classic Samsara who want something more subdued and youthful might find in Jasmin Noir a helpful ally. Men who are not averse to a little sweetness (and anise) with their cologne and like the idea of Lolita au Masculin might steal a spritz or two as well.

Bulgari Jasmin Noir notes:
Top: green sap, gardenia petals
Heart: jasmine sambac absolute, satiny almond
Base: precious wood, licorice, tonka bean absolute.

Jasmin Noir is available in Eau de Parfum concentration from major department stores and from bulgari.com.



Pic of sexy Greek actress Zoe Laskari via movie-musical-world

Teo Cabanel Alahine: fragrance review

Alahine (2007) by Parfums Téo Cabanel literally smoulders in the guise of an ode to ylang ylang and amber, composed like a palimpsest of orientalia: the lushness of the flowers, cut with a smidgen of citric tang (usually the uber-classic bergamot), then fanned on resinous notes that deepen to a tawny iridescence has brought us spectacular fragrances from Shalimar to Bal à Versailles, all the way through Boucheron Femme. Alahine was apparently inspired by Arabian palaces (located in Spain I'd wager) and its solar energy is weaved in an virtual arabesque of luminous, warm notes.


Technically the concept isn't new: The same treatment of the ylang-ylang salicylate-rich blossom is given in Estee Lauder Private Collection Amber Ylang-Ylang: a medicinal amber that sweetens via the florals and leaves a somewhat powdery finish on drydown. Another tawny amber is played in a same style (but more violet-tinged and darker) in Attrape Coeur by Guerlain, also known as Guet Apens. Interestingly the Lauder came out one year after the Cabanel. Still, neither can claim laurels of originality. The main difference nevertheless between the two is how the Lauder projects almost linear, with a persistent two-tone melody to it (enjoyable for anyone who wants what they want, mind you!), and a boozier-saltier amber progression; while the Cabanel is falling from top to heart to base like on a billowy mattress. Even though they're both lush and sexy feminine, thanks to their floriental ambience, a judicious man could benefit from a spritz of Alahine strategically placed. Come to think of it, Sensuous (again by Lauder) is another one men after an ambery fragrance should try. Compared with Amber Ylang Ylang, the Cabanel is more upscale and smells more expensive. It's what people usually refer to as a "sweater scent", denoting a comforting, nuzzling composition that performs especially well in cooler weather and northern climes which seem like its natural habitat. Yet, I bet the tropicalia of its flowery heart would be equally perfect during cool summer evenings when it would blossom sexily if used with restraint on warmed-up belly skin. The fragrance is beautifully poised between East and West, between the dainty quality of Dresden china and the arabesque exoticism of Mecca artefacts, to warrant a place in many perfume lovers' collection.


Alahine opens on a cascade of sizzling and rather medicinal bergamot-ylang-ylang chord, which isn't miles removed from the mandarin-frangipani start undescored by benzoin-rich and patchouli-spiked amber of Chanel's classic Coco from 1984. Indeed they show a comparable bravado into appearing haughty at first, while being utter purr-kittens later on. Coco is spicier and has a powdered-chocolate note which also appeared more than a decade later in Coromandel. Angela of NST proclaims "the result is a ylang ylang crème brûlée lightened with rose and dusted with powder". The resinous quality of Alahine is persistent though, the amber never becoming completely powdery despite the orris touch, nor totally milky-comforting (which one would think would be the result of the sandalwood plus vanilla). A small musty facet which reveals itself through rose plus patchouli is totally brilliant amidst the oriental formula. This is probably its coup de grace, as it engulfs you into an embrace that can still be a little dangerous and fanged, despite the languid exotica.

Kudos to Thédore Cabanel's heir Caroline Ilacqua (the goddaughter of his own daughter) who has indisputably excelled where other upstarts in niche have blundered, when "re-starting" her firm in 2005 (The press kit by Cabanel mentions their first eaux pour le mouchoir were composed in Algeria in the 1890s and they relocated in Paris in 1903): Classical structure, top notch ingredients (not all-natural, though as claimed online, but still with a quite high ratio without doubt), an approachable but not yawn-inducing formula, seamless but perceptible progression & opening-up like a fine cognac. Their other fragrances, also composed by Jean François Latty (creator of Givenchy III, Yves Saint Laurent pour Homme, Tsar, Eau Dynamissante and Drakkar among others), are also very good: Teo Cabanel's Oha is a rose-moss chypre that has nothing to be jealous of from other classics in the genre, while their Julia is a graceful floral fit for princesses. Latty's motto has been "quality doesn't mix with compromise". It's reassuring to know classical perfumery is still revered enough to prolong itself into the 21st century.


Notes for Teo Cabanel Alahine:
Top notes: bergamot and ylang ylang
Heart notes: Bulgarian rose, Moroccan rose, orange blossom, jasmine, and pepper plant
Base notes: iris concrete, cistus, patchouli, benzoin, vanilla, and musk.

Alahine by Teo Cabanel is available in Eau de Parfum through Luckyscent and other etailers (at advantageous prices), also somewhat discounted on Reirien.com. It's also available in Concrète de Parfum (solid perfume) and Parfum Extrait in 15 ml/0.5oz. More info on the official site of Cabanel.

For our French-speaking readers, an interesting interview with the president, Caroline Ilacqua on Youtube linked here.

All photos copyrighted by Elena Vosnaki. Click to enlarge.