Showing posts with label fragrance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fragrance. Show all posts

Friday, February 18, 2011

Sunny Fragrances to Beat the Winter Blues

There are some occasions in the lagging days of winter, eternally stuck someplace between middle & end of February, when the snow keeps piling up at the front windows and the birds fly down-spin over the yard, which can exasperate even the bravest of brave souls. Although my own native winters are mild & sunny, with only the occasional snowfall, white flakes not sturdy enough to pile up and withstand the coming out of the sun the next day, every time I have been away from home into a northern European country or in the windy winters of Down Under beside the lapping of the cold ocean, I got a taste for what it must feel like to always be cold, always rubbing one's nose when outside to stop it from getting numb.

The scented world around seems sleeping, with the indoor smells gaining momentum, but perfume can provide an intentional, on demand change of one's landscape: How exquisite a pearly aldehydic floral seems on an ice-cold day and how bright & dreamy does a floriental, full of the sunny rays that warmed the petals of its tropical flowers...

My picks for instilling a sunny disposition and banish those winter blahs comprise a list of perfumes which are noted for their optimism, sheer joie de vivre, indulgent nature and easy wearing; in two words, uncomplicated happiness! Fragrances to remind you of the coming of spring and to put a spring in your (still mutton-wearing) step! After all, in Turkish tradition the end of February marks the end of winter's cemre: Cemre are 3 fireballs coming from heavens to warm the earth for the coming of spring; the first appears on February 19-20, the second between February 26-27 and the third falls to ground on 5-6 March...Spring is just round the corner!
And if you're gifting someone to cheer them up, consider a bouquet of chocolate hearts for a perfect gift hamper accompanied with an elegant floral perfume for a striking impression.

10 Fragrances to Beat the Winter Blues for Men/Women:

Patricia de Nicolai Le Temps d'une Fête
The perfect hyacinth-ladden green floral to evoke spring, full of crushed leaves & grass; a fragrance so beautiful and cheerful that it will make you spin around and around humming Mendelssohn's Spring Song even when getting down the Christmas decorations.

Ayala Moriel Les Nuages de Joie Jaune
Described as "drifting in yellow clouds of happiness", this is an all-natural soliflore fragrance built on the yellow pom-poms of mimosa and the honeyed goodness of cassie. As light as air and as joyful as the first bright, sunny day in late February. [availability]

Annick Goutal Songes
Someplace in the tropics, languorous women with Gaugin-esque physiques pick up cananga odorata (ylang ylang blossoms) to render their sunny essence which finds its way inside this summery potion of liquid sunshine. A floriental full of the suntan and solar notes of salicylates, fanned on a vanillic and woody base.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Mandarine Basilic
These succulent Mediterranean flavours, combining almost as in a fruit salad, benefit from the spicy zing of the basil note. An easy, piquant scent which lifts the mood anytime.

Profumum Victrix
The Latin sounding name hides a masculine cologne of earth and wind, where the laurel, the greens and the coriander conspire to give notions of open, endless prairies under a dog-toothed sun.

Molinard de Molinard
Fruity floral in the best possible sense. If you like Amazone and just didn't know where to look to to find a similar fragrance, look no further. This is has the happy ambience of a warm summer evening spent at an outdoors cinema in Sicily or a Greek island, all paved with gravel, with thick jasmine & honeysuckle vines climbing its walls, watching Cinema Paradiso.


Hermès Concentrée d'Orange Verte
This lime-laced cologne is simply the best masculine/unisex cologne to lift a lagging mood or a weary spirit. The hesperidic touch is enough to get you out of bed as sure as a good Robusta.

Patou Câline
The greenly fresh aldehydic sophistication and malleable primness of Patou’s Câline remind me of Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina, after her European trip in which she becomes a proper “lady”, almost unrecognizable to those who knew her as merely the chauffer’s daughter to the rich family. [Full review here.]

Lancôme Miracle So Magic
A surprising entry in the Miracle flankers stable, this is composed by Annick Menardo and although it diverts from her smoky, dark path, it bears a remarkable affability without insipidness: the green sweet smell of clover fields opens up on an endless vista in front of you as wild-flowers zoom into focus. Just lovely!

Hermès Iris Ukiyoé
Its detractors call it "Yuck! Away!" but don't let this parody on the Japanese-alluding name deter you. Notes of an aqueous hydrangea and a lightly spicy grape-like accent bring forth the fantasy of the iris flower, instead of the familiar rooty-violety root. Spring-like! [Full review here.]

And of course anticipating some of the upcoming fragrances for spring makes one dream a little bit and withstand the last throes of cold better. Catch them up here!

And you? What are your favourite fragrances to come out of hibernation? Tell me in the comments.




Spring Song by Felix Mendelssohn from "Lieder Ohne Worte".
Painting "The Promise of Spring" by Lawrence Alma-Tadema.
Molinard pic via Perfumes.bighouse.blogspot.com. Goutal bottle via thefragrantelf.livejournal.com

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Who are we Wearing Perfume for, really?

The above question often crops on perfume discussion fora, on which lovers of fragrances often give the resounding answer "for myself". While I can very well understand and embrace this achillean confidence which aficionados display, I have come to think of it in depth and postulate that there is a grain of self-persuasion in this. How much does perception -both quantitative and qualitative- of a fragrance by our entourage affects our decisions really?

First of all there is the easier factor of the two: quantity. No one wants to go overboard and overapply fragrance. The effect is generally considered repulsive instead of attractive and lately in cubicle-space environments it has started taking a very tangible turn for a perfume anti-mania. Reading on Bella Sugar, I came across this post in which the writer contemplates how her own habit of wearing Angel might be perceived after a smelly incident of another passenger on the commute.
What was most interesting was reading the comments of readers. One of them states:
"I wear what I like, the only person I may sometimes try to please is my boyfriend".
In a way this is almost the nullification of the usual statement that we only wear something for ourselves! Because only too often our other half might not agree with our perfume choices. There is also the desire to please that significant other, thus opting to wear something for their sake or shunning something due to their dislike towards it.
Another declares:
"I wear what I like...I don't think I ever overdo it either".
This is also loaded of the consiousness that applying a little more liberally might offend, which is to be avoided. How far that is from shunning an odour as well as the amount of odour we choose to emit?
This statement is also quite revealing:
"Everyone seems to get offended or in an uproar about something these days. So I just wear what I like and do not care. I would rather smell a nice perfume on a person than their own scent after a day's work."
The persecution mania after perfume wearers has piqued the interest of Perfume Shrine before, when a real incident in Canada gave us food for thought. In a streak of rebellion against too much political correctness one might be tempted to purposely do their own thing regardless.
Additionally:
"When I wear scents its purely for the thought of making me feel good and clean and feminine. If it depended on anybody else I wouldn't wear it. I could care less about luring someone in with womanly wiles, scents, whatever."
Please note the semiotics of "good", "clean", "feminine": perfume has a very demanding task to perform! Besides, although "clean" is a more or less objective term and "feel good" is perceived by the wearer -somewhat dependent on the other attributes, one feels- the term "feminine" is filled with nuance. By its nature it is defined through comparison and juxtaposition. It's not "female", but "feminine" ~who defines what is and what is not feminine?


On Beaut.ie blog, I came across another question: whether one influences one's partner in beauty and scent choice decisions. It is another very valid consideration! One does shape the preferences of one's significant other to some degree at least. Or the old adage if one didn't click with another, the two wouldn't be together applies.

Last but not least on the list of references, on Makeupalley member Winterwheat posted a fascinating quote about whether or not to wear perfume on a job interview:
"Female applicants fared best when wearing no perfume, next best when wearing typically masculine perfume. Both male and female applicants who wore typically feminine perfume did the worst. There's a second study in the same article that looks at the moderating role of sex of interviewer, and it turns out that female interviewers will be more forgiving of female applicants with typically feminine perfume, but male interviewers will not".

~Cczesny, S., & Stahlberg, D. (2002). The influence of gender-stereotyped perfumes on leadership attribution. (European Journal of Social Psychology, 32, 815-828).

Perception and stereotypes are everything, it seems!

The matter of perfume acting as a powerful attraction amulet is rampant in folklore as well as modern pop culture. It is the most common question in discussion fora and emails. Whether there is any truth to it or not is matter for another article and it merits a lengthy discussion at that. The fact that it is accepted and thought upon by so many, however, indicates that there is a prevalent desire to subtly manipulate one’s milieu or sexual prey through the power of olfaction.
Every time we reach for something that has a perceived vibe of “old money” or being artsy we are responding to a need to assert our pedigree and good taste. When we reach for something warm, soft and cuddly we are transmitting our deeper need to be treated with tenderness and care. On those occassions when we pick the dynamo that will get us noticed across a room, we are not only secretly admitting a weakness to ourselves but tough it out through a means that is known only to us but perceptible to all. When we choose to wear something “hip”, we are secretly reverting to our high school uniform becoming a “me too” entity that is accepted for its integration capability. And last but not least, at those instants when we go for the weird and the antisocial we are marking our individual territory much like a feline who is segregating his area of dominance.

On another plane, we are also influenced by choices made for us through osmosis. There is something about peer pressue as well as its complete antithesis: differentiation among peers. They are both sides of the same coin, really: the axis is that in both cases the point of departure is the Other ~compliance or rebellion in relation to someone else.

So what is my point? That true, completely self-taken, insular decision on anything that has to do with taste is a rare thing. Almost like snow in August; even rarer, like a miracle by the Madonna of Lourdes.
The opinions we have heard, the compliments we received or the detractors we have endured, the memories we have of certain smells (and most importantly the sensory/sentimental value we have put upon them depending on the latter being pleasant or unpleasant), our eco-awareness or lack thereof, even our political decisions having to do with who we would like to give our money to, they all shape us. They all contribute in what we choose in the end.

So my theory goes than even if we love the smell of something as non-perfume-related as woodfire, this is not a pre-shaped gene that was passed on to us, nor a spontaneous decision that arose out of the blue, but a formative experience that has resulted in the manifestation of a specific sensibility.
In the words of John Donne: "No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main" (Meditation XVII). And no woman either, says Perfume Shrine.


Pic Ball Park Jebusite/Flickr. Pic of Clive Christian perfume courtesy of Living Scotsman.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Spring Anticipation-a Joint Project from Two Sides of the World

lilac in bloom perfumeshrineWhere I live spring has already come and it’s raining sunray upon sunray on us to the delight of the inner child that wants to come out and play. So in an anthem to spring, these are the things I anticipate to enjoy in these next few months, arbitralily noted down in varied categories. The Non Blonde joined me in this list, so you might want to check it.
I hope you find them inspiring!

Art

I am eager to see the exhibition of one of the artists I follow, John Psychopedis, founder of the New Realists group using ready-made elements from advertising, cinema and press in combination with concepts inspired by History of Art and Marxist doctrine.
It opens today and will run through the end of April.(pic:"rereading Odyssey")

Books

1.The retelling of "Beauty and the Beast" is a book with watercolors by Angela Barrett. It’s filled with ethereal pictures, of which the two-page spreads in particular are trully beautiful! And while we're at it, the illustrations on this version, are also gorgeous.

2.Sometimes spring can be lenient with a little light reading, for which I look forward to French Trysts: Secrets of a Courtesan by Kirsten Lobe. It doesn’t pretend to be too serious and I deem this a virtue.

butterfly lovers book illustrated japanese perfumeshrine3.Les Amants Papillons (aka The Butterfly Lovers) is a French book by the children's book illustrator, Benjamin Lacombe. The visual aspect of it with its glowing colours and shadowy little corners had captured my eye the moment I stumbled upon it on French Amazon. I plan on reading it spraying Mitsouko on my clothes first.

4.Under the smart recommendation of Vidabo/Lou from Perfume of Life, I am anticipating reading a book by Carl Wilson, who explores both his dislike of Celine Dion and the wider socio-cultural phenomenon of 'taste': aptly called "Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste". Sounds like my kind of thing.

Fashion
Wearing bright, happy colours again!



{dress by Diane Von Furstenberg, from New York magazine Spring Fashion 08}

Films

1.The Other Boleyn Girl: predictably I will be annoyed by historical innacuracies, but I am sure I will love the sumptuous costumes created by awe-inspiring Sandy Powell.
The line "Our daughters are being traded like cattle for the advancement of men" gives the gist of the story. But you knew that.

Watch the trailer here:


2.Lust, Caution by Ang Lee: I managed to miss it when it aired, it’s by Ang Lee, it’s a love tale cum espionage thriller in times of peril, the actors are sooo pretty, I just want to see it…Enough with the excuses!
Watch the clip here.


Food

Good, fresh strawberries with thick, unsweetened cream on top. Yum!
Ladurée macaroons in cassis-violet flavour: someone is sending me some! I love how the fruity tang compliments the sweeter aspect and the colour appeals to me.



Fragrances to wear and enjoy

I have missed my florals...So these come out to the front of the rotation.

~Czech & Speake Mimosa: the true essence of “clean” ~trully lovely!
~Christian Dior Diorissimo: innocence and fraility of style never goes out of fashion and this is one extrait de parfum worth seeking out
~L'artisan La chasse aux papillons: another study in innocence, a watercolour of spring snapshots
~Stella Rose Absolue: for the sultrier moments, a great bridge scent from winter to spring
~Guerlain Flora Nerolia: the sentiment of walking under bitter orange trees and jasmine vines
~Carthusia Fiori di Capri: a chypre floral that emits woody hues of carnation
~Serge Lutens Tubéreuse Criminelle: a twist in the nubile hand of spring, a masterpiece of evil composition
~Serge Lutens Sarrasins: because I reserve A la Nuit for warm summer nights...
~Chanel No.22: its crepuscular tonality suits cool evening breezes when the sun melts into the horizon
~Chanel No.19: because a little je m'en fou in the mornings , donning crisp white shirts and lots of silver bangles, never hurt anyone. "L'audace a son numéro!"
~DelRae Debut: because I am smitten with its green rush
~DelRae Amoureuse: because I am smitten fullstop. I would, wouldn’t I?

serge lutens gingembre five o'clock perfumeshrineFragrances to sniff:

~Serge Lutens Five O'Clock au Gingembre: the new fresh oriental with bergamot, vetiver, ginger, beeswax, cistus labdanum and vanilla. I don’t know if it will deliver, but it’s got its own little appointment.
~Chanel Sycomore: the latest member in Les Exclusifs, reportedly a vetiver interpretation that bears no relation with the original from the start of the 20th century. Still….

Home
Fresh flowers in the house, preferably lilacs and violets: they remind me of Easter.
Diptyque Mimosa room spray: the closest to the real smell of mimosa!

Jewels

1. I love the bold look of this season: my chance to get out the trully striking pieces.
The pics shows a Dries Van Noten Tiger Eye necklace, $1,060, an amber layered necklace, $1,210, and a jade necklace on yellow ribbon, price upon request; Go to driesvannoten.be for more information. From New York magazine


2. I just knew perfume lovers would appreciate this!
Perfume tray story box by Sweet Romance

3.And this one as well….the perfect amulet against day to day evil, n’est-ce pas?
Florentina Perfume Flask Necklace by Sweet Romance

4.I am getting my Van Cleef & Arpels bracelets with the butterflies out for a stroll...
van cleef alabhra butterfly perfumeshrine

Makeup

Guerlain Parure Powder: Because I want to see just why they decided to discontinue the homonymous fragrance for this!

Nature
Butterflies flying around (caterpillars are everywhere now!)
Cats having kittens
Bitter orange (citrus aurantia) trees blossoming
Lilacs happily blooming in April (despite T.S Elliot's famous verse)
People having a spring in their step due to spring's magic
Babies squinting in the sun

Project to be undertaken next for my own enjoyment
Movies that reproduce art paintings. I got the idea and got started from this page.

Skincare

Goutal Crème Splendide with rose extracts. Smells divine!

perfumeshrine roger et galletSoap

I just bought a travel case of Roger & Gallet Magnolia soap and I am admiring it in its box, secretly opening and taking a whiff every now and then. I am already dreaming of the pink suds.

Stationery

I had never paid enough attention to my stationary and I decided I should remedy that. These hand-pierced cards look dreamily elegant and I already imagine them scented in serene Extrait de Songe.

Travel
Tuscany...hopefully soon!



For more things to anticipate this spring, please click over to The Non Blonde.


What are you anticipating this spring? I'd love to hear!




Pics personal and courtesy of Photolife, eikastikon, New York magazine, amazon.fr, garden.co.uk, Ladurée.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Valentine's preparation: movie and a fragrance


Valentine's Day might seem rather corny to you (and to me): after all, isn't the point in celebrating love every day? But the pleasure-factor of watching a romantic film hand in hand with your loved one, silently hunched onto each other in a dark theater or at the abode of one's home and enjoying an accompanying fragrance shouldn't be shunned due to such esthete concepts as mentioned above. It gives us a wonderful excuse to indulge into a little cinematic game, of which Perfume Shrine never tires. Hopefully, neither have you, dear readers.

So, without further ado, here is what I came up with for today: Let's pick some trully romantic movies, watch the clips I selected and match the mood they exude with a perfume to wear. Shall we?

One might as well begin with the sacred cow that is Casablanca: not because of its screenplay and acting so much (although they too are wonderful), but due to its superb direction and editing, it should be taught in every film school. And it is. The final shots of Ilsa boarding the plane should be taught in every fashion school as well, but I digress. The story is eternal, the repercussions of such decisions echo in eternity and any other ending would be colosally less brilliant.


(uploaded by kayjae)


There is really nothing that can be worn lightly in view of such a torrid affair as the drumroll of war is marching on. Perhaps the introspection and melancholy of Après L'ondée by Guerlain suits the mood more than other scents. Another choice would be the suave 31 Rue Cambon from Chanel Les Exclusifs with its inherent veil of elegance over human warmth and tenderness or the white, heartbreaking beauty of Un Lys by Serge Lutens. All trully Parisian scents, the Paris they will forever cherish in their hearts.

One of the lighter, funnier romantic comedies I have been enjoying every chance I get has been Down with Love with Renee Zellwegger and Ewan McGregor from 2003: a superb homage to the Doris Day-Rock Hudson movies.
In a very accurate (down to the last detail!) retro early-60s-style it tells the story of Barbara Novak. A feminist advice author, she shuns love only to get caught under the spell of Catcher Block, a playboy who, disappointed when no longer able to pursue his affairs due to her book's success, goes undercover in an attempt to "break" her and prove the falacy of her axiom. I will leave the end for you to discover if you haven't yet.
Pure unadulterated, unapologetic fun and with the usual amazing singing by Ewan, who could be an excellent singer any day.


(uploaded by catalinadarling)

Since this is about the eternal battle of the sexes and so firmly set in the 60s I suggest you watch it with a good swooooosh of nearly unisex Eau Sauvage by Christian Dior. This light, citrusy spell with a fresh whiff of jasmine aroma will have you longing for spring days of love.
Or you could go for Parfumerie Generale Eau de Circe, a potion for a light-hearted hip seductress and Pillow of Flowers by Parfums Armando Martinez which is as luminous as a string of pearls over a colourful, tailored shift dress.

The way we were (1973) by Sydney Pollack is arguably one of the better known tearjerkers in cinematic history as we all feel a pang of silent pain as we watch the determined heroine unexpectedly meet the object of her younger days adoration in the arms of another woman years later, simply stating: "Your girl is lovely, Hubbell". Their separation due to different goals in life holds a moral tale: Jewish Katie with her leftish views doesn't quite fit on the arm of WASP Hubbell who is a promising writer who ultimately compromises his talent. But as her personality shines through in the duration of the film, his own shortcomings, despite the smashing looks, become poignently apparent.
However I chose not to show you a clip of the film in question, but off the beaten track rather go for a glorious reference of it in pop culture: from the finale of season 2 of Sex and the City , in which Carrie identifies with the heroine. Be sure to watch this in its entirety, it is trully funny and sensitive.


(uploaded by denysa25)

If you want to pop in the DVD and watch it (again or for the first time), might I suggest you bring out the quite good scent by Sarah Jessica Parker herself, Lovely: musky but refined, it doesn't quite fit the last lines, but it is very pretty. As much as Sarah Jessica's gown with all those blonde curls are in the final scene.
If you are after the wild mood suggested by the final line however, you should choose Vero Profumo Onda: a beast of a scent that is trully untamed!



Romantic tales couldn't be left without one of the most lyrical films in the history of cinema: Elvira Madigan (1967), a Swedish film of the doomed affair of a circus acrobat and a married lieutenant with kids. Set to the ethereal 1st movement of Mozart's piano concerto No.21 it utilizes the beauty of swedish midsummer nature as the backdrop of its beautiful heroes.





Dzing! would be the obvious choice if you want to evoke the atmosphere of the circus, yet somehow the scenery is too beautiful for such a quirky (albeit fabulous) scent. The hay stacks, the summer skies, the youthfulness of both protagonists' features call for Extrait de Songe/L'ete en douce (the name it has recirculated under) by L'artisan Parfumeur. Perhaps the tragic tale behind Fleur de Narcisse, the limited edition of L'artisan from 2006 is even better suited to the fateful end of the two lovers.


Sometimes, romance comes with the feeling of a well-worn slipper. What I mean: Sometimes, love is under our own nose and is someone we're taking for granted. Just like Harry and Sally and their meeting. Or rather series of meetings which culminate into genuine friendship. And then romance. And then...
But surely, you have watched this modern classic about relationships!


(uploaded by agizemk)

And there is even a perfume reference in the very end: "I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes". What other declaration of true love could you ask for?
A fragrance that can be worn casually, with conviction and flair, secure in the knowledge it suits you like your favourite sweater, then. Like Marc Jacobs Amber Splash. Or Tauer's Reverie au Jardin, the softly envelopping of fresh lavender by velvety musk, which can be shared between you two.

Last but certainly not least, my own favourite: the fourth story in the Greek classic film The counterfeit sovereign (Kalpiki lira) from 1955 by Yiorgos Javellas/ In four chapters a counterfeit sovereign is made by an honest engraver guiled by a dishonest seductress to fall into the hands of a beggar and a prostitute and then to a wealthy miser.
In the final chapter, with a gut wrenching performance by Elli Lambeti and Dimitris Horn, a young struggling artist falls in love with a rich girl when they meet at said miser's New Year Eve's dinner when they win a gold sovereign while cutting the traditional lucky pie of the day: upon it they pledge their love, never to sell it and decide to marry. He paints her portrait when he is inspired by her casual "I love you" one day. But hardships come their way and they split, for her to remarry in line with her social class this time. We can feel the bitterness as the former husband says in the gallery: "Unlike the model that posed for it, this is not for sale! This is all mine."
Years later they meet again:
-"The sovereign on which we pledged our love was.....
-Counterfeit.
-Counterfeit...But our love was true, Paul."


(uploaded by elliniki kardia)It never fails to move me...The yearning and poignancy remind me of the delicate silk faille of Pontevecchio W by Nobile 1942...and of course the eternal Mitsouko.



What fragrance would you choose to match the mood of these or your own favourite romantic films?
I'd love to hear.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Bullion or Bull? 8 88 of them...by Comme des Garcons: fragrance review


Sometimes it's hard to distinguish the bullion from the bull. Gold has a way of masquerading into the most unexpected guises, while the reverse is also true.
Comme des Garcons 8 88 new fragrance was released for only one week (!) in London at the Burlington Arcade guerilla store. It won't be available again until March 2008, but a generous and kind soul was able to get us a sample and Perfume Shrine has the rare privilege to review the elusive scent with the weird and -reputedly lucky?- numerological name.

Comme des Garcons has always gone for the quirky, establishing themselves at the vanguard of art perfumery with a twist. A resolutely modern line of fine fragrances. The brand by Rei Kawakubo who introduced the pauper-chic of the early 80s to jaw-dropping Paris has set a high standard for shock value. Their Guerilla stores were the kind of avant-guard marketing that makes for cleverly calibered word-of-mouth. It even convinced me to go under the shade of an ancient ruin for the sole purpose of shopping for the first time in my life!
The challenge was to see whether they delivered this time around, as they had previously succeeded in doing with their wonderful Incense line (a long-time favourite of mine) or the Red series or indeed the original fragrances that bore their name, aiming at working like Ayuverdic medicine (they don't...).

Antoine Lie, a perfumer from Swiss giant Givaudan, was the nose who created 8 88. It tries to capture the odour of gold, an elusive goal no doubt but in line with the brand's attempt to ride on the Luxe bandwagon: a concept perhaps at odds with their conduct thus far.

Jewels have always mesmerised both the artistic and the mystical in me, with their aura of hidden but powerful energy surrounding them. Most importantly the feel of heirlooms and historical pices, some of which have pride of place in my ever expanding collection, give me a rush of aesthetic and intellectual pleasure in running my fingers over them, contemplating just how they were made, who they belonged to and what feelings they evoked for their owners.
Yellow gold pieces in particular remind me of ancient rituals, the homeric "Mycenae, rich in gold": the loot from ancient Egypt by the Ekwesh (whom recent research tautologises as Achaean Greeks coming from Anatolia).
Alas, much as I lean on my comparatively less important pieces, I cannot bring myself to smell anything more than the faint remains of the fragrance that clung from my skin since the occassion that I wore them. Gold really has no special smell, apart from the metallic coldness or the odour of blood shed in its pursuit...


The task set before Antoine Lie was therefore difficult. According to the creator:
“We started with the concept that we wanted to find if gold has an odour and we looked for an olfactive expression. I looked at a number of different materials and decided very quickly on Safraline because of its very specific character.”
Safraline is an aromachemical, a molecule produced by Givaudan, derivative of saffron/crocus flower: the latter being a very expensive material due to its difficult picking and handling of the fragrant stemens by hand.

Official notes for 8 88 are: safraline, pepperwood, curcuma, coriander, geranium and amber.

As I sprayed the juice of 888 on my skin I perceived an initial fresh, almost orangey aroma from the coriander, a slight wet pottery whiff with tender sweetness to it that later on cedes to dryness. The opening has the cheery gusto of a sparkling finish on a fashion handbag done in metallics with none of the leather smell that would denote its quality materials or the metallic feel of typical aldehydic or iris fragrances reminiscent of the insides.
In that stage there follows the faint plasticky smell of freshly new DVDs out of their box, an odour so weird as to become instantly memorable for anyone who has had the chance to step into a very new, very big videostore. Some vague spiciness pops in and out, but as it dries down it does so with a woody and ambery character that is subdued and rather feminine, remaining close to the body without overstaying its invitation.
Compared with Safran Troublant by L'artisan parfumeur, 8 88 lacks the round feeling that accounts for much of the pleasure derived out of wearing the former, while at the same time it doesn't offer the jarring and jolting effect that one expects from a Comme des Garcons fragrance. It is pleasant, a little bit boring and very inoffensive; which is really tearing it apart with mild praise, I realise.


The bottle is in the traditional shape of the original CDG fragrance and Man2: the smooth tactile peeble, this time done in gold.
The price was 52 British Pounds for 50ml of eau de parfum concentration last time I checked. It is doubtful whether it will remain the same or rise: they shouldn't ask for its weight for gold, that's for sure.



Pic of 18K gold & tourmalines necklace from personal collection.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Unveiling a myth: Iris Gris by Jacques Fath (fragrance review)


 A fragrance history snippet cum fragrance review on the "best perfume ever" according to the legend...

by guest writer Denyse Beaulieu

The day I finally smelled the peach in Mitsouko – a full-fleshed downy peach bulging through the seamless composition – was the day after I smelled the mythical Iris Gris, by Jacques Fath. As though the latter had opened up an unknown dimension in the former: the same peach note, known as undecalactone or aldehyde C-14 (though it technically isn’t an aldehyde), pushing itself through once I had grounds for comparison.

Thanks to Luca Turin’s The Secret of Scent, I knew both fragrances shared the note. His few lines on the tragically rare Iris Gris, the best iris ever in his opinion, had spurred my curiosity. But I didn’t hold much hope of smelling it outside the Versailles Osmothèque: each, rare flacon seemed to go for astronomical price… The French couturier Jacques Fath launched it in 1947: but he died at 43, in 1954, and though Fath perfumes continued to be produced, the expensive Iris Gris was soon discontinued: hence its extreme rarity.

No hope at all, that is, until I happened on an open-air flea market right next to my place, under the aerial metro that runs past the Eiffel tower. Somehow, that Saturday, I knew there was a perfume waiting there for me. Eyes peeled, I wandered from stall to stall, thought I spotted old flacons, was quickly disappointed when the seller told me they weren’t perfume… And nearly fainted when she did point me towards a table where she had a couple.

It was sitting there. Iris Gris. No more than 1/5 evaporated, sealed, with box. Impeccable colour. Reasonable price for what it fetches in auctions. I didn’t haggle, and stole away with my prize, mind reeling. I knew I’d gotten hold of a myth.


The great unsealing took place in a café right by the Palais-Royal, with perfumer and perfume historian Octavian Sever Coifan. He was the man I needed for the occasion: he’d smelled the Osmothèque reproduction and could vouch for its condition (authenticity was never in doubt, because of the intact seal).

It is impeccable. Fresh as the day it was composed, which Octavian explained to me was due to the fact that it certainly didn’t have any hesperidic top notes: those are the ones that spoil in vintage perfume.
But what jumped out immediately was the peach. As smooth and downy cheeked as a Renoir model’s, sweet without being tooth-aching syrupy.

Octavian held out blotters of orris absolute, irone (the molecule that makes iris smell of iris: the higher the concentration, the higher price the orris fetches) and ionones (the violet smell) for comparison.

And magically, iris came to the fore. Its slight metallic tinge softened by the peach, but definitely iris – and iris with a smile.

Now every time I picked up the blotter, I got either peach or iris. A bit like in those 3-D postcards we used to have as children: tilt it one way, and you get the peach. Tilt it the other way, and it morphs into the iris. If there are other notes (and there are in Octavian’s detailed breakdown), I just couldn’t pick them up. It’s that seamlessly blended: like a “gorge de pigeon” (pigeon-throat) taffetas – a comparison Luca Turin uses in The Secret of Scent ~the iris-peach combination is woven into the very fabric of the scent. Then as the fragrance evolves, the iris-peach weaves somehow tightens and melds into a single, smooth and utterly unique scent: a joyful iris, a fleshed-out iris as light-hearted as an aldehydic, but without the “old-fashioned” feel that some people get out of aldehydic scents because of their classic status, or that “hairspray” smell that comes from hairspray actually being scented to resemble the likes of Chanel N°5.

The overall effect is amazingly modern and spare: it could’ve been composed yesterday and it could be reissued with great success tomorrow, and walk rings around Kelly Calèche (which I admire, by the way). Unlike some vintage scents that feel very much of their time and need a special frame of mind to get into – much as a vintage dress does – this feels as young and joyful as the day it was composed.

Jacques Fath was indeed one of the first couturiers to think of very young women in his fresh and sophisticated designs: of course, young women of the time were quite a bit more sophisticated than they would be in the following decade. With his matinee-idol good looks, the designer to Hollywood stars (he designed Rita Hayworth’s wedding dress) was very much a star in his own right, as famous in his time as Christian Dior whose New Look he interpreted in a more supple, playful manner. A gifted colourist, he was said to favour amethyst and grey – which may have partly been the inspiration for Iris Gris


The scent itself was composed by Vincent Roubert, who authored the classic leather fragrance Knize Ten in 1924, as well several Coty fragances, including the best-selling floral aldehydic L’Aimant in 1927 (which was thought to be Coty’s answer to Chanel N°5), but also the masculine Fath Green Water (1927), still produced but with a very different formula.

The house of Fath has recently revived its clothing line with designer Lizzie Disney at the helm. Here’s hoping they reissue the original Iris Gris, without tweaking the formula at all. In the meantime, I’ll be enjoying every drop with the tight throat that comes from releasing a long-imprisoned genie from its bottle, knowing it’ll never come back…

For another take on Iris Gris, visit Octavian's blog clicking here.



Pics: Images: Bettina in a white satin battle-dress jacket, fall/winter 1949-1950, from Fath archives, excerpted from Mode du Siècle (éditions Assouline); Jacques Fath in his studio, courtesy couturier.couturiers.ru; peach iris courtesy jupiterimages.com.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Romancing the Scent 2


Is jasmine and powder seductive? In continuation of our previous post concerning itself with how a perfumer defines a romantic scent fit for seduction, Perfume Shrine today focuses on how Chris Sheldrake envisions such a fragrance. His comment appeared in the February 08 edition of Allure magazine.

Christopher Sheldrake, the nose rensponsible for almost the entire Serge Lutens line (with the exception of Iris Silver Mist by Maurice Roucel) and currently head of Research and Development at parfums Chanel, mentions that:
"in our industry, "bedroom smell" means the sensuality of jasmine, a powdery, musky soft entity - something that makes the wearer comfortable - and with a comfortable smell that pleases. It means not too violet or too rose or too animalic or too mossy."

He then goes on to suggest a romantic fragrance, naming Beautiful by Estée Lauder
"It has a powdery note and a fruitiness: a slightly jammy strawberry scent that as a perfumer I can appreciate."

Contrary to the infamous Alan Hirsch MD (of Smell and Taste Treatment and Research center in Chicago) study which states that men are aroused by the combined aroma of lavender with pumkin pie which facilitates penile blood flow, Sheldrake proposes a different combo: jasmine with a powdered musk.
For the record, the other arousing smells in the Hirsch study were doughnuts and black liquorice; or doughnuts and cola. (see more on the Hirsch study here).This had me rolling with laughter picturing cops in American movies eating doughnuts by the trackload. But I digress...

So, jasmine. A favourite flower for me, personally, and inexitricably linked to my childhood and growing up memories. The fascinating, presque suprenant facet of natural jasmine lies in its potent aroma of indole, a compound that is inherent in white florals and which we discussed on our orange blossom sexy scents post. Obviously, the familiarity of a smell so integrated to human existence as the fecal one breeds some form of recognition, if only very distant and not clearly perceived as such. The humanity beneath a fleshy smelling flower is therefore one of the aspects that account for jasmine's reputation as an erotogenic scent.

However there are many people who have trouble with jasmine: they find it too clotted, too dense, too sweet, too feral. Would its magic work on them as well? I do wonder. Perfumers use a wide variety of molecules in perfumes, natural or synthesized: jasmine absolute, jasmone, dihydrojasmone (less expensive than the former), methyl jasmonate, hedione, 2-heptylcyclopentanone... Sometimes the deciding factor on which to choose in a composition is the correlation betweem price and tonnage. Subtle differences account for a different perception among individuals who might respond with more pleasure to one than to another.
Musk is too complicated a matter to tackle in this short post, but it will be discussed shortly. Suffice to say that it is the par excellence essence prized since ancient times for its almost aphoridisiac abilities. The myriads of nuances in synthesized musks in the fragrance industry only attest to that effect: if there weren't a big demand, there wouldn't be as much industriousness in producing them. And some of them do smell kind of powdery: white musks, egyptian and "clean" musks especially.
Notice the reccurence of the powder element that was -arguably- so controversial in Sophia Grojsman's quote? Interestingly, baby powder does feature in the Hirsch study as arousing women! (men, please don't take this too seriously)

It is perhaps even more intriguing to note what Sheldrake denounces as appealing: an abundance of violet (green or candied? he doesn't specify), of rose (too old fashioned or pot-pouri-ish?), of animalic notes (too much stable-and-farm associations instead of basic instinct?) and of moss (too dirty/earthy or too musty-smelling? Again a definition would come handy).

And then what does dear Christopher do? He goes on to nominate Beautiful as a suggested romantic fragrance. A fragrance that has a tale made up about its name (per Lauder friends proclaimed it was "beautiful" upon smelling the mods when she was "creating" it) as it has had no less than five(!) perfumers working on it at International Flavors and Fragrances, as Chandler Burr reveals in his latest book.
A fragrance that supposedly has been composed of more than 200 ingredients, which to me doesn't smell of jasmine and powdery musks. A scent that has been reformulated to ill effect and which according to Susan Irvine is
"Extravagant, creamy, romantic and sweet. Ideal on a country and wester singer".
Is this your ideal of romantically appealing? I am really looking forward to your comments.


Top pic from eu zeen mag. Pic courtesy of Société Française des Parfumeurs, C.Sheldrake on the far left

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Romancing the Scent


Love is in the air and the perennial question on what constitutes a romantically attractive fragrance and just how scents are perceived by the opposite sex.
The February 08 issue of Allure comes to the rescue, centering on fragrance and romance, as is usual in publications when St.Valentine's is around the corner. An article by Judy Bachrach, titled "Romance in a bottle", draws interesting opinions on the subject from famous people; two of which happen to be perfumers themselves: Sophia Grojsman and Chris Sheldrake. Their replies were so...what is the word I am searching for...that they merited their own commentary. Today we focus on the former.

I have never put great faith in the method via which Sophia Grojsman approaches femininity in perfume. I admit it in all honesty. Her creations from the bombastically pervading Tresor and the equally potent Eternity, to the luminous Paris, on to the oriental jam of Jaipur are so intense and extroverted sides of femininity that they register as caricatures in my mind: accentuating the characteristic traits that differentiate male from female in our perceived consious: The lush rose, the velvety peach, the intense floral sweetness...

Therefore when she suggests using baby-powder-smelling fragrances before jumping into bed (assuming it is with someone other than just your humble self!)as a nod to our subconsious limbic memory of getting our bottoms puffed with the stuff as babies and presumably associating the feeling of being loved and cared for with the aroma of baby powder, I am going a little "huh?"
First of all, because although this exact association is indeed tender but potentially anti-climatic in an amorous occassion (unless...let's not go there!). And secondly, because it has me wondering about how powder, and specifically baby powder registers in the mind of people in general and whether Grojsman is aware of this.

One of the most common complaints in the perfume arena of online discussion and reviewing boards, such as the hugely popular one in MakeupAlley, is that something smells of baby powder ~or baby wipes and similar products in general; clean ones it is assumed, mind you. The perceived image is uniformely unsexy. Still, there is a sinister trail of thought that goes into work here.

There is concern among some women who do have babies that it connotates tasks that remind them of burdening responsibilities and a period in their life when they felt unattractive. Therefore they would not associate those moments with a sexy afterthought. Understandable.

There is also the more sinister syllogism that babies and infants are off limits sexually (not that I disagree, of course), therefore finding an aroma associated with babies sexy is reminiscent of perverted pedophiles. Now being seen as a perverted pedophile -even in the context of merely favourite smells- is a stigma. You want to avoid that by all means.
This train of thought however takes one thing as a foregone conclusion: that perfume is first and foremost supposed to be sexually attractive and thus seen only in a sexually mature context (which is why lots of people object to kids donning fragrance). Ergo, if perfume is to be taken seriously, it must not smell of babies, or it is "sick".

To that opinion one might radically disagree, especially if one has a keen interest in olfaction in general.
And this is also one of the great divides between American and European sensibilities, as European advertisements do not hesitate to present talcum-scented products in appealing ways that suggest some tinge of sensuous allure. Whether that has to do with widespread pedophile circuits and infantilism, well...let's not go there. A can of worms that can't be opened with impunity.
Suffice to say that for Americans the baby powder connotation is smelling of Johnson & Johnson's citrusy, lightly floral vanilla, while for Europeans it is the orage blossom-and-light-musk of Mustela and Nenuco, as evidenced by the experience of Jean Claude Ellena.

However in typical paranoia and irony some baby powdery scents have proven to be huge bestsellers, eclipsing other scents that launched tagged as sexy. Examples of talcum-laced scents are Flower by Kenzo or Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan. Others have proclaimed their baby pedigree unashamedly, like Petits et Mamans by Bvlgari. And still some have become cult classics with their vat-of-talc odour, like Teint de Neige and Keiko Mecheri's Loukhoum. The choice is yours...



What is your opinion on this subject? I would be interested in reading your comments on this.



To be continued.....


Pic via Flickr

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Magicians and Pharaohs: Djedi by Guerlain (fragrance review)


Lore has shaped the imagination of many in reference to the secrets of the Great Pyramid of Egypt: hidden passages, curses cast upon intruders, mystical symbols and astronomical calculations far ahead of their times. More Sphinx-like than the actual Sphinx, the Great Pyramid still holds some of its secrets to this day.

Djedi by Guerlain ,"the driest perfume of all time" according to Roja Dove and the "tremendous animalic vetiver" for Luca Turin, is an analogous example in perfumery. And it takes its name after an ancient Egyptian magician related to the Great Pyramid. It is as magical, as soulful and as strange a perfume as entering an ancient burial place hidden behind rocks in a far away desert.
But you might need magical powers to have a bottle procured; or very deep pockets…Or better yet a dear friend like mrs.Kern who is so amazingly generous and kind that she sent me a little of her own.

Herodotus, the Greek historian, had visited Giza in about 450 BC, where he was told by Egyptian priests that the Great Pyramid had been built for the pharaoh Khufu (Cheops to the Greeks) second god-king of the Fourth Dynasty (c.2575–c. 2465 BC). It weighed 6 million tons, the weight of all Europe's cathedrals put together and it was the tallest building in the world up till the start of the 14th century AD.
Khufu and the Magician is a tale of Egyptian magic which appears in the Westcar Papyrus (Second Intermediate Period - around 1500 BC), housed in the Berlin Museum.
Pharaoh Khufu's sons are amusing their father by telling tales of magic:

“Djedi is a man of one hundred and ten years~the tale went. Every day he eats five hundred loaves of bread, a haunch of ox is his meat, and he drinks one hundred jugs of beer as well. He knows how to reattach a severed head and how to make a lion follow him with its leash on the ground. And he knows the number of secret chambers in Thoth's temple."
Khufu orders his son to bring the magician and then a prisoner brought, to lop off his head and see Djedi's magic in action. But the magician protests that he could not sacrifice humans for his magic. So a goose is brought on which Djedi could perform his magic on. The morale of the story is transparent: some things are just too sacred to be trifled with.

Khufu had wished Djedi to fashion his mausoleum under his guidance, but to no avail. In the words of Zahi Hawass, upon excavating the pyramid, courtesy of guardian.net:
“I never thought we would find anything behind the door discovered 64 metres inside the south shaft of the Great Pyramid in 1993 by Rudolf Gantenbrink . […]But when we used the ultrasonic equipment and learnt that the thickness of the door was only 6cm, I said that this was a surprise and there must be something there. […] We sent the robot into the second shaft, and as it traveled through we could see […] it stopped in front of another door with two copper handles: Some believe these doors have a symbolic meaning because it is written on the Pyramid Text that the Pharaoh must travel through a series of doors to reach the Netherworld. […] I would like to suggest that these doors hide Khufu's real burial chamber. […]
About 900 years after the reign of Khufu we have a story called "Khufu and the Magician". Djedi knew everything about the secret chambers of Thoth, but he did not reveal the secret. I therefore believe that the burial chambers were hidden behind these doors”.


The perfume itself is a strange and perfume-y mineral affair of dry leather and ambery, animalic decomposition that almost defies description. Its opening is jolting, disturbing, the weirdest thing; yet it beckons you to continue smelling till the end of the prolonged journey into the night. There is deep grief manifesting itself through bitter herbs, artemisia-like, and copious amounts of earthy vetiver with cold air which reminds one of the strange feelings upon first trying Messe de Minuit by Etro. Those elements fan out into feminine, yet dusty, almost musty rose and a powdery base. This is no opulent rose for a bourgeois eager to show off her wealth or powdery sweetness for an aristocrat who wants to keep her man in difficult times. This is a regal lament for the loss of a favourite son, perhaps lost forever in the cold waters of the battle of Salamis or the trenches of the World War I, no matter; this grief transcends cultures.
Pungent leather with its slightly sour edge and powdery musk act like whalebone does to underpinnings, supporting, exuding an image of bravery and humaness at the same time.
This is unmistakenly Guerlain, unmistakebly animalic with a rather fecal warmth at the end, exuding the grandeur of another, elegant era. Reminding me of my grandmother who had her clothes tailored in Paris and her jewels made in Smyrna and who always smelled ravishingly opulent.

Although its strange, intense greeness and dryness have a passing relation to the classic Bandit eau de parfum, the closest to it that I have smelled is Vero Profumo’s Onda; although the latter is a tad warmer and sexier with its catty whiff and coriander/mace spiciness. However, while Onda has a certain modernity that puts it firmly into the realm of a contemporary piece of art, Djedi is stylistically a product of its time and recalls an era that is past us.

Djedi was created in 1926 by Jacques Guerlain and re-issued in 1996 for only 1000 bottles. Today the vintage is extremely rare and goes for astronomical prices rivaling the mathematical achievements etched on the pyramid walls itself. The re-issue, using the formula of yore, is also quite rare and costly.

But it lets one glimpse one into the abyss and back. If one dares…

Notes: rose, vetiver, musk, oakmoss, leather, civet and patchouli



Pic of Great pyramid by inderstadt/flickr. Painting "And there was a great cry in Egypt" by Arthur Hacker courtesy of art.com. Bottle of Djedi courtesy of Guerlain

Monday, January 7, 2008

Incense Extrême by Tauer: fragrance review


I breathe in the cool incense smoke from the metal brazier,
While thinking about a poem for my dear friend Lu Wa.

My sandalwood-hearted companion spits out plum blossoms of smoke,
Looking like the cloudy fog of the other world.


Perhaps it's the soul of my friend the old mountain man
in the smoke's dense patterns?

- Kan Po, in memoriam (undated)


Incense extrême is the new fragrance by swiss niche perfumer Andy Tauer, that reminds me of the smoke's dense patterns that go up in clouds like the souls of dead men.
Based on a natural CO2 extract of Boswellia serrata (this is Indian frankincense, for those who didn't know) it is only one of a duo of incense scents that Andy is launching in 2008. It is to be accompanied by yet another incense fragrance later on in early spring, March 30, this time named Incense Rosé.


According to Andy Tauer (from Tauerperfumes):



"This natural incense scent inspired me to create different perfumes, with "Incense extreme" being the most abstract, almost cubist and uncompromising interpretation.
It captures the roughness of the climate of the semi desert where Boswellia trees thrive. It is translucent like the first whiff of incense smoke from frankincense resin on red gleaming coal. Yet, it is crisp like a night in the desert.
The Boswellia serrata extract is the central cornerstone of the fragrance, at a concentration of 25%, rounded off with dry woods and ambergris in the background. Soft iris balances the incense in the heart of the fragrance. And coriander and the freshness of petitgrain set the accents in the opening. The richness of the natural incense enchants with an array of impressions, playing differently as it develops, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes."


As I spray on my skin a somber and cool smoky incense hits the nostrils with all the gusto of an open air fire on which aromatic woods and resins are slowly being burnt. The overall impression is of a fragrance that uses a high percentage of natural ingredients. Elemental, austere and slightly bitter, it calls the wild expanse of dry lands by which it has been inspired. All the while the soft underpinning of a piquant, peppery and tangy note adds its own sharp, short and cool touch. There is no floral impression, no powder that I can discern, as the incense dries off in waxy dropelts, leaving in its wake the lingering impression of trails of smoke through steely skies with the merest hint of sweetness left caressing the skin, like the memento of pleasures abandoned. Myself I admire its cold, clear character that defies pleasanties.

If you were searching for a warm, sensuous, ambery incense you are going to be somewhat disappointed. And although those latter are not my style really, I have to admit that it is less complex or indeed sensual than most of Andy's other creations. Still, there is a sparseness of style that appeals to an intellectualised sensibility, asceticism of both body and mind and the depravasion of earthy delights or the vanity of spirit. This might appeal to our inner sinner longing to repent of self spending in taste, play and song by a stint in the desert. Or our inner Spartan who longs for the black broth of his homeland instead of a feast fit for Lucullus on a borrowed table.
Whether this warrants the extrême qualitative adjective is food for thought: I think not as much. It lacks the weirdness and pungency that one would expect from something tagged so.
But this is not to detract from its value or its worthiness of trying out for yourself.


Notes: coriander, petitgrain, spices, orris, frankincense, cedarwood and ambergris.

Tauer Perfumes Incense extrême comes in 50ml of Eau de Parfum concentration and will be available on 23rd of January.



Tomorrow a juicy post from an insider, a controversial player, that will instigate lots of discussion.
Please check again for it!




Poem found through scents of earth. Pic of incense cones courtesy of L'artisan site.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

What makes for the popular vote?


Now there's an interesting question for the new year! Isn't it?
The poll we conducted here at Perfume Shrine was intriguing on many levels, none the less important because it revealed certain finer points.

First of all, the poll confirmed that the people who activately participate in such projects are astounding less numerous than the actual readership. I don't know why the literally hundreds of people who visit every single day didn't want to cast a vote: perhaps they were not familiar with all the fragrances and didn't want to skew the poll by opting for something that might overshadow something else. Perhaps they don't believe in polls anyway. Perhaps they didn't deem any of the choices worthy, even. And to tell you the truth, the term "best" is quite binding and loaded for such a subjective matter as taste. Truthfully, in terms of innovation and vision, it was the smaller brands that made the grade for me. But since their offerings are not yet being discussed extensively (I am confident they will be soon!), it was inevitable that well-known brand names would be opted for as the gladiator contestants.

And they crossed their swords quite forcefully too! Apart from two choices of course, predictably the men's mainstream launches by Dior and Calvin Klein who tied with only one vote each.
This last part is indicative of two things to my mind: first, that our male readership is either rather limited (as is generally the case with perfume venues anyway) or much more demanding (a welcome thought). And secondly, that despite a few examples, much of the masculine fragrance launches by mainstream companies are simply unispiring, lacklustre and utimately dull.

The reason that I personally opted to include Dior Fahrenheit 32 over the more sympatico to my sensibilities Fleur du Mâle by Gaultier was due to the dire need to include at least one Dior offering: they had come out with two major launches this year, a move which resonates loudly throughout the buying audiences whatever we might say about the brand in recent years. Midnight Poison fell rather short of expectations and merely perpetuated the rose-patchouli accord we have come to sniff so regularly these past 2 years, leaving us with only the majestically gothic commercial and wonderful dark bottle to swoon over. Therefore the headstart of Fahrenheit 32 in the innovation stakes (abstract orange blossom in a men's fume) won the day.
Calvin Klein issued his first masculine fragrance Calvin Klein Man that didn't have a feminine counterpoint. The experiment wasn't bad, but it wasn't terribly bold either. Still, it is a major brand that accounts for lots of sales, therefore the inclusion. The fact that it wasn't voted for speaks for its relative diminished appeal in discerning circles.

The doyenne of the pretty, the Estée Lauder group, issued one of the most surprising launches of this year, Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia. A scent that repositions the brand into a more exclusive plane that had already begun with Tom Ford's efforts a couple of seasons ago. But here is the tour de force: they did it with a beautiful fragrance that smells true, stays on long and doesn't cost the small fortune other brands ask for. Bravo Aérin Lauder on a well done feat! I am sure that the 11% of our readers who chose it as best scent of 2007 has a use for a white floral fragrance that makes them feel simply gorgeous when they step out to face the world.

Prada did a comparable thing with their lovely Infusion d'Iris, going through a different marketing route, that of masstige: supposedly costly ingredients in a classy bottle with the crest of tradition but available through Sephora and larger stores. Hence the 16% piece of the pie Prada snatched in this poll we conducted. Infusion d'Iris is unapopogetically pretty, classy, notably well suited to both sexes and distinct even if relying on less costly materials than touted (please note that they do not list the origin of iris on the packaging, contrary to the commercially cunning demonstration of other ingredients right in front of your eyes ~which points to the use of aromachemicals). In the year of iris, from Guerlain Iris Ganache to Iris Pallida by L'artisan, Prada's iris is a great option.


Hermès simply reconfirmed what they are after: individual, aesthete concepts that do not concern themselves much with trends. Despite Kelly Calèche having this rather gauche name, I might add ~borrowing from a previous scent (OK, this is standard practice among houses lately) but also from an actual accessory of the brand that acts as a status symbol: the Kelly bag (how transparently manipulative is that?). Additionally, the advertorials that talked about a leather floral did the scent a disservice, as did the naughty, defiant ad: had they mentioned a slight suede note, they might not had disappointed the die-hard leather fans who expected a potent mix of Cuir de Russie calibre. Instead they found a cool, composed, pretty feminine floral with the slightest whiff of smooth velvetine that hypnotises with its devious sillage and great tenacity. I predict that the fragrance will be vindicated in perfume circles for its meek 6% vote in no more than 3 years' time: note this comment, you have heard it here first!

Bond No.9 made the most surprising entry of this year with their best yet release: Andy Warhol Silver Factory, the first of a series of instalments centered on the pope of Pop Art. Due partly to its release late in the year and its relative obscurity, it lagged in votes garnering only 5%. Yet this delectable incense is worth seeking out and although the big, really expensive bottles of Bond No.9 are often too costly for what they fragrantly bear, this one heralds a new leaf in the Bond book. If it is anything to go by, I am looking forward to their other Andy Warhol inspired scents soon.

Not so with Serge Lutens: this year has been a sort of let-down for his many, arduous fans who have come to expect the world from him. Whether this has to do with Chris Sheldrake getting a position at Chanel or with the rampant rumous of Serge Lutens himself getting slowly out of fragrance creation and focusing on makeup, it remains to be seen. Sarrassins was lovely, beautiful and with a slight animalic edge, but it didn't bring out the frisson we have come to expect from an exclusive Lutens! Louve is even less edgy, despite its smooth, fluffy qualities. But more on that on an upcoming review shortly...

Gucci by Gucci garnered a 5% percentage for much the same reason as Bond's Silver Factory: coming out late in the year and not yet available in all markets, it hasn't registered enough into people's minds to get more votes. Or the new chypres have become a little too predictable for their own good, like I had mentioned on my musings for 2007 in fragrance. Personally I haven't smelled this yet, so all bets are off till I do. But somehow I am not too excited.

Chanel and Guerlain proved again that they are considered sacred cows of the perfume world and that their new scents always make a ripple in the stagnant pond of new launches of mainstream brands. Despite the fact that both choices (Spirituelle Double Vanille from Guerlain which won the race by a thread and 31 Rue Cambon by Chanel) were rather exclusive to begin with lots of our discerning readers had a keen interest to sample them whatever it took, exactly because they were Chanel and Guerlain.

No matter how disillusioned perfume lovers might have become in general, Guerlain still is a bastion of rich perfume history and their adherence to their illustrious tradition with their boutique scents is worth the trouble of locating the elusive juices. One might argue that their practice of re-issuing past discarded experiments under new wraps is akin to the Emperor's new clothes (Mahora I am looking at you!). But still, the myth is going strong encased in opulent bottles. Spiritueuse Double Vanille is one of the loveliest vanillas out there and this is coming from someone who isn't enamoured with vanilla in the first place. Rich, pod-like, it possesses the vibrancy of trails of smoke lifting off for a flight of orientalised arabesque.
Last but not least, vanilla is an easier concept to like for the majority of people than a chypré floral, accounting for 23% versus 22%.

Chanel is equally respected for their history and austere class, perpetuated through lore, imagery and elegant packaging that accounts for much of the brand's cachet. If anything, they are the most recognised brandname throughout the world in luxury apparel and cosmetics and everyone, simply everyone, has come into -direct or indirect- contact with No.5 at some point in their lives.
31 Rue Cambon was announced as the new revolution in the industry that would put the chypre genre back in the map, following the restrictions of oakmoss percentage, by opting for a new accord (pepper and iris, reportedly) that would bypass the problem in the most elegant way.
Chypre didn't need re-invention: it is as iconic a notion to fragrance as it is lamentably obsolete ~the perfume police have made sure that none of the mainstream chypre perfumes of yore will ever be exactly the same. But chypre might have needed re-orchestration, reagrdless, so as to appeal to a new audience which isn't tied up into the legend of yesterday and isn't as involved in the terminology and greater onomastics rather than in what a fragrance exudes.
31 Rue Cambon indeed manages to smell elegant, confident, classy, like old money. It doesn't try too hard and this is its charm. But also its possible downfall. In the years to come it might be bypassed by bolder creations, such as the more old-fashioned Cuir de Russie or Bois des Iles, exactly because they are arresting compositions. And therefore if it is to become a classic, it will have to shed at least some of its exclusivity in order to become more well-known to wider audiences who are the ones who validate a fragrance through continuous, ardent loyalty through the decades.

All in all, 2007 proved that there is yet hope for the fragrance industry. Let's see how smartly they interpret the feedback.


Pic by whatktdoes.com, bottle of Kelly Caleche from Hermès

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