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

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Mathilde Laurent Responds to Perfume Shrine's Questions (& a little on Cartier Les Heures du Parfum)

Most of you are familiar with Mathilde Laurent through her early work at Guerlain, when as a young graduate of ISIPCA, under the aegis of Jean Paul Guerlain she created her modern epics, faithful to the patrimony of papa Jacques: Her Guet Apens (later re-issued as Attrape Coeur, the whole entangled story can be read on this link) is one of the most celebrated "new Guerlains" among cognoscenti, in the degree that it reflects a true Guerlain character, yet is resolutely of its own era.

Her Shalimar Eau Légère, reviewed and cherised on these pages, is another one which takes the best of tradition and injects it with the saturated hues and bold lines of a contemporary Francis Bacon painting. Like her artistic idol Camille Claudel ~as divulged to Marian Bendeth on a Basenotes project last year~ Mathilde appreciates modernity coupled with sensitivity and creativity.
Pamplelune with its sunny grapefruit side is, surprisingly enough for its daring sulfurous mien, still a Guerlain best-seller and one of two Aqua Allegorias (a sub-line in the Guerlain portfolio with lighter, less complex scents) which has remained in production ever since introduction of the line, the other being Herba Fresca with its surprising take on mint. (Her other creations in the Aqua Allegoria line included Ylang et Vanille and Rosa Magnifica) At some point, Mathilde Laurent left Guerlain to spread her wings unto greener pastures, including a brief stint at jeweler André Gas in 2006 (for the Polynesian tropical scent Ensoleille-Moi) and the current in-house perfumer position at the venerable Cartier headquarters, where she is composing bespoke scents (Sources place the price for juice to last 3-5 years up to 60,000 euros or $75,500). Her masculine, (again) mint-ladden Roadster for the mainstream jewellery house release last year has graced our pages and was considered a successful entry, poised most wisely between commerciability and artistic merit. Mathilde's talent is undisputed, her desire and ambition to compliment the art of perfumery with a decisive and landmarking contribution nevertheless is laudable. For her "perfume is a message, an expression of oneself" and a perfumer is "a sillagiste!"

I took the invitation that Elisa de Feydeau kindly opened for her francophone readers and asked Mathilde a couple of questions which she was most gracious to reply to. For the benefit of our English-speaking readers, here are her answers.

My first question had to do with something I had read in Perfumes, the Guide, a quote by Luca Turin in his Pamplelune review, in which he equated Laurent's turning to bespoke perfumery to "the saddest waste of human talent since Rimbaud decided to study engineering" (If this isn't praise, I don't know what is!). I was wondering whether the foreboding feeling created by this remark in my mind had come to a reversal through the new line Les Heures du Parfum for Cartier (a high-end project more on which below) and whether she was hopeful that the new line would open a dialogue between herself and perfume lovers; those Others beyond the scope of the mega-rich who have the means to order their very own perfume. After all, as revealed by Jean Claude Ellena to us before, custom perfumery runs the risk of inadvertdly "deceiving" the customer.

Mathilde Laurent herself had explained the bespoke process in the past in very clear terms: "Together (with the client), we explore scents associated with meaningful life experiences, from pleasant childhood recollections to a present image the client wishes to project. We transpose the Cartier style, a perfectly studied simplicity, into the scent. Just a few carefully selected high-grade ingredients are blended, so that each essence remains distinctive, not lost in a hazy combination." In the pursuit of good materials, she's relentless: "I look for the truly exceptional, the atypical, the never-before-seen" (The floral extracts used cost about $5,000 per kilogram, or $142 per ounce). "The provenance of the flower, its rarity where it was bred, the manner of extracting its essence, the climatic conditions that year, all are taken into account."
In hindsight Mathilde appreciates Luca Turin's accolades enormously: "He was among the first to support me and encourage me". She terms the bespoke service "a step, a detour in order to get someplace else". "I could never imagine not creating for The Others", she reveals, although she's quick to point out that "bespoke perfumery is for me a wonderful means to be close to those who love and wear perfume and to push the envelope regarding experimentation on new accords, to test and increase one's creativity and one's technique. Bespoke perfumery acts as a complimentary course for me, it nourishes my work on other projects. I hope that Cartier's Les Heures du Parfum will generate a dialogue with people wearing them, since for me perfume is a message that the skin diffuses, I am always interested in expression, perfume is always destined for the Other".

Another issue that is burning perfume lovers and the industry itself with the intensity of a surgical laser is the pressing issue of restrictions on perfumery ingredients. (You can read a recap and personal thoughts with a minimum of emotional sidekicks on this link and on that one). Mathilde Laurent proved to me to be both practical and wise: "Regarding the perfumery materials which are restricted from our palette, I pretend they never existed. Nevertheless, I continue to search for the effect they present, even though it might be considered a tad Utopian; to substitute with other ingredients and combinations. One must always start from scratch and search, search...Having "come of age" at Guerlain however {she started apprenticeship there at the tender age of 23, going to exotic places and learning about ingredients with the very best} I have intimately known all of those precious materials before they were rationed and their effect has most definitely marked me. I do keep them in memory, always!" Hopefully, with creative minds such as Mathilde's, even the parsimonious palette of essences that is left to perfumers can take a new shape and be utilized in a novel syntax that have been left unatttured till now. The future is here and it is brave!
As to her own pleasure, Mathilde has left herself to be seduced by her latest creation for Cartier XIII La Treizième Heure, a smoky leathery composition, even though she declares she never wears perfume on her free time (Her other rare ~she stresses~ indulgunce is Guet Apens). After all, she hopes to instigate a discourse, not a monologue, and I hope she will always succeed in doing that!

Les Heures du Parfum by Cartier are set to be 13 fragrances in the "neo-niche" mold of luxury brands such as Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences, boutique Guerlain scents, Armani Prive, Van Cleef & Arpels etc. (material-oriented compositions, uniform bottles, limited distribution). Cartier touts them as 'one really haute collection of fragrances for connoisseurs' to commemorate . The scents take on Latin numbers instead of names to reflect the digits on the famous Cartier watches, plus a lucky number thirteen in honour of the number of la maison Cartier's first address at 13 Rue de la Paix in Paris. They are to be spaced out in a period of a few years. The first five are coming out this November on the 10th in 35 Cartier boutiques all around the world. Eau de Parfum in 75 ml flacons for 250 dollars (Chayaruchama told me they're already at Saks in New York City, so New Yorkers take note and report back!).

Fragrance Notes for Les Heures du Parfum according to Grain de Musc (who got them straight from the horse's mouth and is enthused):

I – L’Heure Promise (The promised hour): a green iris with petitgrain, fresh herbs, sandalwood and musk.
VI – L’Heure Brillante (The shining hour): a bright aldehydic citrus cocktail with lemon, lime and a gin accord. X – L’Heure Folle (The crazy hour): an aldehydic fruity green with redcurrant, pink pepper, grenadine (pomegranate syrup), blueberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, violet, leafy notes, ivy, boxwood, shiso, polygonum (=knotweed)
XII – L’Heure Mystérieuse (The mysterious hour): a woody floral with jasmine, patchouli, elemi, coriander, incense, olibanum, juniper.
XIII -La Treizième Heure (The 13th hour): a sweet leather with maté tea, birch tar, narcissus, bergamot, patchouli and vanilla.


Portrait of Mathilde Laurent via Basenotes, images4.hiboox.com and luxuryculture, Cartier bottles via punmiris.com

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

The Mystery of Egyptian Elixirs & The Story of Sacred Kyphi Perfume

Stakte, Susinum, Cyprinum, the Mendesian, Kyphi...Ancient Egyptians used various unguents, essences and aromatic fumigations as a means of well-being and communication with the divine or the dead. Such was the identification of Egypt with perfume production, despite other ancient civilizations dabbling in perfume making, that during Julius Caesar's Roman triumphs, alabastra (essence vials, the term being alabastron/αλάβαστρον in Greek due to the material used, alabaster) were tossed to the crowd to demonstrate his mastery over Egypt!
Although aromatic substances were abundant in Egypt, accesible even to humble labourers, manufactured pefume was a rare commodity reserved for sacred rites, the rich or for export. Images of lotuses being worn and sniffed pose an embarrasment of riches in ancient Egyptian iconography and yet this indigenous and common at the time blossom does not feature in perfume formulae. On the contrary, imports like myrrh, frankincense, cinnamon and cassia were favoured, suggesting that either the extraction methodology was lacking or that tastes ran to the exotic (much like now!) opting for the essences of Arabia Felix (happy Arabia).

The perfumes for personal use had more or less a standard way of composition, resulting in an expected response from the consumer, much like today's customer knows what to expect from a specific commercial perfume: Susinum was based upon the aroma of lilies with myrrh and cinnamon in balanos oil. The Mendesian featured myrrh, cassia and assorted gums and resins steeped in oil and was named from the ancient city of Mendes (production soon went outside the borders of the city). Cyprinum was not named after Cyprus, the Greek island in the east Mediterranean, but based upon the scent of henna (Lawsonia inermis) along with cardamom, cinnamon, myrrh and southernwood. But who were the innovators who first thought about them? Egyptian perfumers from Canopus or olfactory artists from Ashkelon, Cyprus or Sidon? Pliny and Dioscorides regarded the Egyptian product to be superior over all others at any rate. Mendesian is named after the ancient city of Mendes, although eventually that perfume would be created elsewhere, even outside Egyptian borders. The Mendesian featured myrrh, cassia and assorted gums and resins steeped in oil. Stakte contained an even stronger aroma of myrrh ~the formula demanded bruised myrrh itself, or the resin added to balanos oil.


Sacred perfumes were forbidden to use by common folks. The infamous Kyphi (depicted above, recreated by Sandrine Videault) which is documented from Greek authors of antiquity ~indeed the word kyphi is Greek in itself~ such as Dioscorides, Plutarch (in Isis and Osiris) and Galen with slight variations is perhaps the best known. Unfortunately for us the Egyptian priest Manetho's treatise Preparation of Kyphi is lost. Recreations have been attempted by various perfumers, including Sandrine Videault (interviewed on these pages). But kyphi is not the only sacred one.


Another sacred perfume has been discovered by archeologists on the walls of the Ptolemaic temple of Edfu, in the valley of the Nile at Louxor. Based on styrax extract, it was reserved for assuaging the ancient deities of Egypt. The long preparation demanded at least 6 months for the ingredients to mature properly!

The formula included:

- 0,575 litre of carob sugar (Ceratonia siliqua)

- 1010 grams of dry frankincense

- 600 grams of styrax

- 25 grammes de aromatic calamus (Acorus calamus L.)*

- 10 grams of lentisque (mastic) resin

- 15 grams of violet grains

- 0,5 litre of mixed wine and water

From all the forms of ancient Egyptian methods of aromatizing (fumigation, incense burning, pomade and fragranced oils) only one seems consistent with what we consider perfume today: aromatic perfume-oils. Vegetable oils were used as a carrier oil for the essences and two were favoured above all others by the ancient perfumers: balanos and ben. The reason was their naturally neutral odour which would minimally interfere with the final fragrance and the fact that they would keep fragrance longest. Balanos oil comes from the fruit of the Balanites aegyptiaca tree although nowadays no oil is commercially produced from it. Ben oil also circulated under the names moringa, behen, baq or horseradish tree oil (Moringa pterygosperma or M. aptera.) and was used in various therapeutic purposes as well.

The flacon containing perfume was as impotant then as it is now. Alabaster, according to Pliny, was the finest material for the safe-keeping of scent due to its non porous nature. Egyptian alabaster is a very fine grained variety of re-crystallized Eocene limestone (calcite,CaCO3) whereas in modern usage alabaster is a fine-grained, massive variety of gypsum (hydrated calcium sulfate, CaSO4.2H2O).
Varied perfume flacons have been excavated in large numbers. One of the most romantic excavations has been the Ulu Barun (at the Turkish coastline), a big galley loaded with fragant materials which dates to the time of Nefertiti. Chronologizing it was possible thanks to the fortunate discovery of a gold signet ring with Nefertiti's cartouche on it, which suggests a royal commission. Along with the fragrant materials, bars of blue glass were unintentionally designated to the depths. One could dreamingly hypothesize that the amazingly similar to modern aromatherapists' vials colour of the glass could be intended for perfume bottles, however no such evidence exists.

*It's interesting to note that although calamus is also referenced in the Bible (Exodus 30,23) as entering the composition of a sacred perfume for God made by Moses, it must be some other fragrant plant, as Moses was in the middle of the desert.

If you have an interest in ancient Egypt and the perfumes adorning its lifestyle, I highly recommend Lise Manniche's Sacred Luxuries: Fragrance, Aromatherapy and Cosmetics in Ancient Egypt, Cornell University Press, 1999 which contains actual ancient perfume recipes.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: Ten Monoliths (Kyphi), Djeji by Guerlain, Saffron's history in perfumery, Chypres' origins, Fragrance History articles.

Formula ref: "Parfums de Rêve", Editions Atlas 1997
Pic of the temple of Edfu in Louxor, Egypt coutesy of
webshots.com; alabastra drawnings via biblepicturegallery.com; pic of Kyphi recreation by S.Videault copyright Jean François Gaté, used by permission

Friday, March 6, 2009

Iso E Super, its merits, its faults, Geza Schoen and Jean Claude Ellena

The chemistry of fragrances seems like an arcane side-path in the vast avenue of pretty smells. Those who venture there are either chemists, eternal students or people reading perfume boards. On those last ones, Iso E Super is nom du jour due to recent rumours of restricting its use to specific ratios in products (and they're many!) and due to its increasing popularity, some of it attached to the work of master perfumer Jean Claude Ellena who has experimented with its magic properties many a time in the past to glorious effect: Terre d'Hermès, Poivre Samarkande and Déclaration are utilizing lots of it, exploring minimalism: the play of scents note-for-note with no sentimentality attached. Even an entire composition, Molecule 01 by perfumer Geza Schöen of niche brand Escentric Molecules (his Escentric 01 also features it in high ratios along with pink pepper, lime peel, orris and incense) is composed of nothing else but it, diluted in solvent, because the perfumer loved it so! I am hereby reminding you that he is the perfumer who created HSIDEWS for artist Sissel Tolaas and he has collaborated with the London-based niche brand Ormonde Jayne. The theory behind Molecule 01 and IsoE Super was that it would create an appealing effect to those smelling it on the wearer without it being perceived as a "perfume"; the ultimate skin-scent, much like natural ambergris to which it mimics certain aspects would act. Another scent which officially contains it is Maitresse by Agent Provocateur, while the masculine fragrance Fahrenheit by Dior (1988) iincludes a 25% Iso E Super in the compound. In the legendary woody oriental Féminité du Bois by Shiseido, under the maestro Serge Lutens's direction, the material serves as an harmoniser between the plummy effect of the fruits with the violet ionones and the cedarwood bottom notes. Iso E Super is used in so many fragrances today that it would be hard to compile an actual list that would not bore everyone silly! But what the hell is Iso E Super?, you might ask. Let's take matters at the top.

Iso E Super® is the trademark name of aromachemical 7-acetyl, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8-octahydro-1,1,6,7-tetramethyl naphthalene and I guess it's pretty obvious why it's called that instead of its long organic chemistry name. According to International Fragrances and Flavors Iso E Super is
"Smooth, woody, amber with unique aspects giving a ''velvet'' like sensation. Used to impart fullness and subtle strength to fragrances. Superb floralizer found in the majority of newer fine fragrances and also useful in soaps. Richer in the desirable gamma isomer than isocyclemone e".
Arborone is the odor active enantiomer of Iso E Super, with its clean woody and pleasing aroma.[1] The uses of Iso-E Super are legion: from bleach and deo sticks to soaps, shampoos, laundry detergents and fine fragrance. Given that its colour is almost transparent to very light yellow it poses no problems in being incorporated in formulae and is also used in the pharmaceutical industry.
Despite the IFF being the company to trademark it, Chinese companies such as Zhejiang Winsun Imp. & Exp. Co., Ltd. do provide it at a concentration of 90% for various uses. Home-made mixes would suggest one part Iso-E Super to 9 parts base, such as dipropylene glycol/perfumer's alcohol (therefore a 10% concentration). Although neat use on skin isn't recommended, minor "accidents" of spillage have not produced anything sinister. Taking in mind that it is quite inexpensive, it is perhaps of interest for apprentices and amateurs alike to experiment themselves at high dilution.

Smelling it in itself one is surprised by how almost non-existent a smell Iso-E Super has; not something one would describe as a smell in so many words, it's unapologetically synthetic and perhaps vaguely cedar-like, slightly sweet. It seems to vanish very quickly and resurface on skin in intervals from time to time very discreetly: The heat of the skin is intergral to its volatilising properly and it seems that any test on paper would not give an accurate perception of its true nature. It is however quite recognisable once you get to sample it and you will have fun detecting it in many major fragrances on the market todat. This subtle "skin-scent" effect is what in perfume-lingo is used to evoke that a fragrance stays close to the skin, not projecting in a wide radius; but also that it has some skin compatibility effect that makes it smell not like a usual perfume. Therefore IsoE Super soon gained the reputation of it acting like a pheromone, that invisible aroma that is supposed to attract same species potential sexual partners and ensures recognition of compatibility between mates. Plainly explained, pheromones act to the vomero nasal organ ensuring that pigs mate with pigs and not rhinoceruses for instance! Much as the matter is exciting and intriguing hower, the scientific community has not been able to conclusively establish validity in the theory of pheromones working in humans so far, although popular mythology is rampant with examples of products aimed to achieve this magical attraction (such as Androstenol, Androstadienone, and Androsterone). In an interview given by perfumer Geza Schöen on the creation of Molecule 01, he intimated:
"When I was introduced to ISO E Super in 1990 I gave it to a friend of mine to wear. We went out to this bar in our hometown and it took only a few minutes until this woman steered straight into our direction to inquire about who smelled so lovely! Since then I knew that this stuff is special indeed. I suggested it to the guy who was in charge of Diesel back then and he said that he felt that this is a bit too much - even for them!" [2]
He's quick to elaborate however that it does not act as a pheromone (that's a misconception if scientifically examined) but that simply it's "not possible not to like it", as no one has ever commented he/she doesn't like its particular smell per se.

Perhaps the most vexing matter to perfume enthusiasts however has been how Iso E Super is one of the 14 chemicals that have been recommended for study by the National Toxicology Program (NTP) with impending restrictions on its use. Ever since as early as 2000 the matter has been in discussion. In a letter by Betty Bridges, RN Fragranced Products Information Network (http://www.fpinva.org/) addressed to Dr. Scott A. Masten, Ph.D. from the Office of Chemical Nomination and Selection, Environmental Toxicology Program of the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences in 2002 we read the following:
"International Flavors and Fragrance's suggested use levels of Iso E Super is up to 10% of the fragrance formula and is recommended for use in a variety of products (IFF, 2002). Isocyclemone E's (a material with a different ratio of isomers, same CAS# 54464-57-2) suggested use level is up to 30% and is recommended in a variety of applications.(IFF, 2002) [...] Considering Iso E Super's similar structure to AETT and AHTN, two polycyclic musk compounds with known concerns, it is likely that Iso E Super and other chemically similar materials would also bioaccumulate in human tissue, persist in the environment, and have health concerns. There are concerns related to AHTN causing liver toxicity and discoloration. Galaxolide, another polycyclic musk has similarconcerns, but to a lessor degree (SCCNFP, 2000) Chromogenic properties have been associated with neurotoxicity (Sabri, 2002)"
Before publication of the 43rd amendment issued by IFRA it had been rumoured that Iso E Super should be a restricted raw material. This doesn't mean that it is not to be used any more as novices often assume erronesouly. It simply means that it should be incorporated in a formula below a certain level for it to be commerialised (and of course one could do whatever they pleased if they made a do-it-yourself formula at their own labs/homes!). On the other hand another aroma material, Boisvelone (C16H26O) closely related to Iso E Super (but reportedly a little more elegant; I haven't tried it myself while one source[3] reports it as the exact same thing) has disappeared from commercial use. According to one perfumer currently teaching [4] however, a feminine "alcoholic" product (that means an eau de toilette, eau de parfum or extrait de parfum ~generally any product with an alcohol base) there is a limit of approximately 20% of Iso E Super in the final product. Although it might seem like a lot, if you are composing an Eau de Parfum, which means a 15-20% dilution, you're well within limits still even if the entire fragrance consists of Iso E Super. Luckily for all of us, the latest amendement of IFRA can be downloaded here and it seems to make us sigh a sigh of relief for now: Iso E Super is not yet restricted. ** [Please see addition on the bottom for current info on IFRA approved ratio]

Hot on the heels of the sinister rumours was the prevalent concern of perfume lovers whether the fragrances that feature it (with Jean Claude Ellena's most prominently) would suffer from it. It was only the other day that the matter was brought again to the table on this very venue, while discussing Déclaration by Cartier, one of the most influential of Ellena's fragrances. Since the objective of Perfume Shrine is to be very clear in what is only a hypothesis on our part and what is a matter of fact, we took things in our hands to further investigate and the resulting message is even more assuaging, discouraging you from frantic stocking-up of fragrances which you would fear would be unrecognisably altered. The fragrances by Jean Claude Ellena will not be altered or influenced by any -as yet only suggested for the future- restrictions of Iso-E Super ratio as they are already well below the ratio proposed for the restrictions. The information is official and comes from mr. Jean Claude Ellena himself. I hope this article proves useful to you!

Here is a table of Top Ten Fragrances with Regard to Their Content in Iso E Super
No., Fragrance Name (Company, launch year), Iso E Super
[NB. the percentage is in regards to compound, not diluted ready to use product]

1 Molecule 01 (escentric molecules, 2005) 100%
2 Perles de Lalique (Lalique, 2007) 80%
3 Poivre Samarcande (Herme`s, 2004) 71%
4 Escentric 01 (escentric molecules, 2005) 65%
5 Terre d'Hermes (Hermes, 2006) 55%
6 Incense Kyoto (comme des garcons, 2002) 55%
7 Incense Jaisalmer (comme des garcons, 2002) 51%
8 Fierce for Men (Abercrombie & Fitch, 2002) 48%
9 Kenzo Air (Kenzo, 2003) 48%
10 Encre noire (Lalique, 2006) 45%

Ref for table: Schon G. 2008. 'Escentric' molecules. Chemistry & Biodiversity. 5 (6) :1154-8. In June 2008. Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta AG,Zurich


EDIT TO ADD/AMEND 2011: At the time of writing this was the correct info. As of 2011 however the IFRA industry regulating body has set a maximum dilution limit of 21.4% in the compound. Jean Claude Ellena's scents and the majority of scents using it are relatively safe, as a mere 1% in the formula in enough to provide the qualities it's famed for, but it is the updated info for anyone caring to use it in their own formulae.


References:
[1]Helvetica Chimica Acta, Volume 82, Issue 7, Date: July 7, 1999, Pages: 1016-1024
[2]I heart Berlin.de
[3]Nextbio.com
[4]J'aime le parfum!

Pics from Iheartberlin.de and Hermes.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Myth Debunking 1: What Are Aldehydes, How do Aldehydes Smell and Chanel No.5

Ask any aspiring perfumista about aldehydes and you will hear that they are synthetic materials first used in Chanel No.5, that thanks to them this is the first and the prototype of synthetic fragrances and that aldehydes themselves have a champagne-like, sparkly, fizzy odor that makes the fragrance fly off the skin. This is what they have been told time and again. Ask any seasoned perfumephile and you will hear that aldehydes have a waxy, citrusy or rosy aroma, like snuffed-out candles (Luca Turin was instrumental to that with his references appearing in “Emperor of Scent”). The truth? It’s a little more complicated than either!

It’s a fact that aldehydes became famous through their introduction in copious amounts into the formula of Chanel No.5 in 1921. However No.5 is definitely NOT the first fragrance to feature synthetic aldehydes :
~"Though Chanel No. 5 is recognized as the first Aldehydic fragrance, created in the mid-twenties, the truth is that the first Aldehydic fragrance was Rêve D'Or(Golden Dream), [1]created in 1905 by Armingeat." (sic[2]).
Nor is No.5 the first modern perfume to feature synthetic components (that honor belongs to Fougère Royale -Royal Fern- by Paul Parquet for Houbigant in 1882). Aldehydes themselves are organic compounds present in various natural materials (for instance natural citrus essences such as the one from orange rind, rose oil, pine essence, citronella and cinnamon bark ~they even appear in bovine heart muscle!). Several essence reconstitutions by chemists involved using aldehydes as various types can also be synthesized in the laboratory.

Aldehydes (same as ketones) are organic compounds which incorporate a carbonyl functional group (that's C=O). The carbon atom of this group has two remaining bonds that may be occupied by hydrogen or alkyl or aryl substituents. If at least one of these substituents is hydrogen, the compound is an aldehyde. If neither is hydrogen, the compound is a ketone. The majority of aldehydes and ketones have strong odors. Ketones generally have a pleasant smell and they are frequently found in perfumes (e.g. muscone in musk-smelling colognes). They are also used in food flavorings. Aldehydes vary in smell with most of the lower molecular weight smelling bad (rotten fruits), yet some of the higher molecular weight aldehydes and aromatic aldehydes smell quite pleasant and are thus used in perfumery. Formaldehyde is the simplest aldehyde with a central carbon atom bound to two hydrogen atoms (H2C=O). Discovered in Russia by A. M. Butlerov in 1859 it is very reactive, used in dyes, medical drugs, insecticides and famously as a preservative and embalming fluid.
Aliphatic aldehydes possess intriguing smells outside the realm of simplistically nice: butyraldehyde for example smells of rancid butter (from βούτυρο/butyro which means "butter" in Greek)! Acetaldehyde is the name of the shortest carbon chain aldehyde and is one of the oldest known aldehydes (first made in 1774 by Carl Wilhelm Scheele). Its structure however was not completely understood until Justus von Liebig determined the constitution of acetaldehyde 60 years later, described its preparation from ethanol, and baptised this chemical group “aldehydes”.

Hardly a fragrance exists without some kind of aldehyde in it, which incidentally makes insisting the greatness of No.5 is due to its synthetic materials comparable to saying that the Pyramids are monumental because of their shape alone. It is the cleverness of marketing and the propagation of a myth that No.5 was meant to evoke an unnatural smell (because supposedly Coco Chanel insisted that she wanted a perfume smelling of a woman and not of flowers ~"women do not want to smell of a bed of roses") which gave rise to this confusion. Chanel No.5 and No.22 later owe their vivid sprakle to a specific subgroup of aldehydes which are called “fatty”: strings of carbon atoms (between 8 and 13) coded in accordance to that number of atoms (ie.C8) with nomenclature deriving from Greek numerics, such as octanal from οκτώ/octo (=eight), in which each of the 8 carbon atoms is connected to two hydrogen atoms. The “bouquet” of aldehydes C10, C11, and C12 in Chanel No.5 became so popular that all consequent “aldehydic fragrances” used that sequence of aldehydes, giving a fizzy perfume-y scent that is quite characteristic with the direct result of having the perfume lover confused as to how aldehydes themselves smell. Fatty aldehydes have a citrusy or floral note, and a pronounced fatty/waxy/soapy tone which is very apparent if you consider a modern fragrance that uses them in high ratio: Sicily by Dolce & Gabbana. The soapy feel is unmistakeable! As an exercise compare that smell with your Chanel No.5: you will pick up the soapy facets in that one as well. Another reason that they read as “soap” is exactly because they have been used in the production of soap for years to give that fresh lemony feel.

Most widely used aldehydes in perfumery are C7 (heptanal, naturally occuring in clary sage and possessing a herbal green odour), C8 (octanal, orange-like), C9 (nonanal, smelling of roses), C10 (decanal, powerfully evocative of orange rind; Citral, a more complicated 10-carbon aldehyde, has the odor of lemons), C11 (undecanal , “clean” aldehydic, naturally present in coriander leaf oil~also used is unsaturated C11 undecen-1-al), C12 (Lauryl aldehyde evocative of lilacs or violets), C13 (waxy, with grapefruit tone)and the infamous C14 peach-skin note of Mitsouko: technically not an aldehyde, but a lactone ~gamma undecalactone.

Often the compounds are patented under commercial names; therefore their true nature remains arcane even to perfume lovers who might have seen them mentioned. For instance Triplal, a patented molecule by IFF: its chemical name is 2,4-dimethyl-3-cyclohexene-1-carboxaldehyde. Its smell? Powerfully green and herbal, like crushing ligustra leaves between fingers. None of the characteristic aldehydes of Chanel No.5!
One interesting ingredient is phenylacetaldehyde which has a pronounced green note (top in natural narcissus and thus used to recreate a narcissus note in perfumery). The hydrocinnamic aldehydes are another family of materials from the manipulation of benzene and their odor profile resembles lily of the valley (muguet) and cyclamen. One of them is the famous Lilial (patented name for lily aldehyde; also known as Lilistralis), widely used in the replication of that elusive natural essence, lily of the valley. Another is Cyclamen aldehyde (usually produced with cumene as a starting material).
Aromatic aldehydes have very complex chemical structures but are the easiest to identify by smell. Anisaldehyde smells like licorice. Benzaldehyde on the other hand, has an odour profile of almonds and has several chemical constituents: cinnamaldehyde, amylcinnamic aldehyde, hexylcinnamic aldehyde. Condensation of benzaldehyde with other aldehydes gives a series of α-substituted cinnamlaldehydes, the lowest member of which is used in the production of cinnamyl alcohol, very important in the production of spicy perfumes (cinnamon note). Higher members, on the other hand, such as amylcinnamic aldehydes (ACA) and hexylcinnamic aldehyde (HCA) project a fatty jasmine impression despite their abscence from natural jasmine oils! Most synthetic jasmine perfumes today use one or both because they are inexpensive (Their fibre-substantive qualities also make them perfect candidates for laundry detergents and fabric conditionners). The hawthorn or aubépine note, rendered synthetically in perfumes for several decades, is produced via anisic aldehyde (p-methoxy benzaldehyde) and it has been sublimely woven into the gauzy cloth of Après L’Ondée by Guerlain (where it sings along with heliotropin). Additionally, the aldehyde vanillin is a constituent in many vanilla-scented perfumes. So nothing is as simplistic as one might assume!

Aldehydic fragrances include (click links to read corresponding articles/reviews): Chanel No.5 and No.22, Lanvin Arpège, Guerlain Liu and Véga, Worth Je Reviens, Millot Crèpe de Chine , Balecianga Le Dix, Revillon Detchema, Caron Fleurs de Rocaille (not Fleur, singular), Infini and Nocturnes, Myrurgia Joya, Jean-Charles Brosseau Ombre Rose , Molyneux Vivre, Lancome Climat, Givenchy L’Interdit, Piguet Baghari, Madame Rochas and Mystère by Rochas, Rive Gauche by Yves Saint Laurent , Paco Rabanne Calandre, Estée Lauder Estée, White Linen, Pure White Linen, Van Cleef & Arpels First, Nina by Nina Ricci (the old formula in the ribbed bottle), E.Coudray Musc et Freesia, Bill Blass Nude and Amazing, Hermès Amazone, D& Sicily, Divine L’Ame Soeur, Serge Lutens La Myrrhe, Frederic Malle Iris Poudre, Ferré by Ferré, Agent Provocateur Maitresse, Annick Goutal Folavril, Le Labo Aldehyde 44.
Hermès Calèche is poised between floral aldehydic and floral chypre in some taxonomies.

[1]Bernand Chant, British Society of Perfumers 1982
[2]Armigeat is perfumer Pierre Armigeant (1874-1955) who composed Floramye and Azurea for L.T.Piver

Painting Gueridon 1913 by Georges Braques, courtesy of allposters.com. Chanel makeup ad via Bellasugar.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Why do Fragrances Smell the Same?

Why do fragrances smell the same? This is a question that many people ask themselves when they're sampling fragrances spanning the spectrum from mainstream to selective distribution to niche to drugstore and of course knock-offs. Because professionals "shoot" the juice! This is industry-speak for analysing the formula (the "recipe" so to speak) of any bestseller or indeed any new perfume on the market using a gas chromatograph. The gas chromatogaph is a machine that separates the individual molecules that make up a fragrance, puts them on a sort of conveyor belt and then identifies them one by one. In tandem with a mass spectrometer they analyse what goes into a given fragrance which then allows technicians to replicate any formula, rendering it common knowledge and no longer secret.

But why are formulae secret in the first place, if it is so simple to break them down like a secret WWII code broken by the Enigma? The answer is two-fold.

First, because the perfumery world works in conservative, traditional mores, some would almost say obsolete: it was the custom of the medieval societies and guilds such as the gantiers et perfumers (those are the precursors of formal perfumers as they were scenting the leather gloves of the aristocracy to get rid of the smell of raw hide and then progressed into producing seperate fragrances for the body). They kept the formulae secret because in an age of low technological advancement it meant that their clients would have to get back to them to have their perfume replenished when they ran out, ensuring them a prosperous business.
Secondly, because in an equally anachronistic twist no one has contracts to protect themselves. It's true that the big brands, for example Gucci, Yves Saint Laurent or Givenchy, do not have possession of their own formulae for their perfumes. Those form intellectual property of the big aromachemical companies which produce the actual juice for them, such as IFF or Givaudan or Symrise etc.
But here's the catch: those perfume-making companies do not have a specific contract with the customer companies who own those brands (for instance LVMH who owns Givenchy). Therefore said company could very well take the "shot" juice to another perfume-making company and ask them to do a miniscule twist (say change a 0.1% of the formula, which will mean that the consumer will never understand the difference in smelling the finished product) and go on producing it more cheaply and make more money in the process! Should the first company ever take them to court ~which they never in a million years do because it would mean that they would lose all subsequent briefs from that gigantic customer~ they would de iuro lose the case, because of that little twist. Technically it just wouldn't be exactly the same. And legalese is very bent on the "technically" part.

Therefore the formulae theoretically are secret but in practice they circulate behind backs (no one admits it openly!) and get copied almost instantly: within days of actual release.
Of course in business terms, unless we are talking about knock-offs which by definition aim to be photocopies of the original, there wouldn't be much point in making something exactly the same as something else on the market. You could of course, in light of the above, but why would you? It would be even better to give a twist in the top-notes so as to fool the consumer into thinking they're buying something else, when in fact the core of the formula is the same. Repackage, rename, relaunch with a different image and you got yourself a hit. If not as big as the original one, then at least a very lucrative one that basks in the glow of the success of the first one.

Is there no way to get out of this mess, you'd be asking yourselves by now. It has been intimated to me that certain smart perfumers, of who I am in no liberty to reveal their names, have devised little tricks to fool the gas chromatograph by including red herrings. Those in essence are minute amounts of materials that do not actually contribute to the formula's olfactory result but act as decoys. And in order to accomplish that, those materials are naturals; because naturals contain hundreds of molecules instead of the single molecule or in any case much simpler contruction of aromachemicals. Yet, what one man constructs, another finds a way to break down. Lab technicians understand that the quantities are exceedingly small and although it slows them down, in the end with a little creative twinkering they still manage to come up with a quite plausible copy.

And this dear readers is why your new fragrance is smelling so much like the one you had in your cupboard all along and why the market is saturated with endless versions of the same recipes over and over again to the point of fatigue. In a high-tech market that worships sameness for the sake of familiarity, since psychology teaches us that the familiar creates a sense a security and comfort resulting in the desired sales, there is sadly no light at the end of the tunnel.


Pic of WWII poster via history1990s.about.com

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

The Making of a Perfume

The newest Yves Saint Laurent perfume, Elle, got a sweeping advertising campaign replete with a little clip of the Making Of. Perfume Shrine brings it to you for your witty commentary.
Jacques Cavallier (the one in the dark clothing) and Olivier Cresp talk about the creation of their latest feminine fragrance by Yves Saint Laurent. Please note that this seems to be an official demonstration clip!


(uploaded by elleYSL)

It is rather interesting that those two esteemed noses go on and on about femininity with a masculine touch (emblematic of Yves Saint Laurent modes), originality and vision: to me Elle had none of those aspects to any great degree, I confess.
It is also rather odd that they hold the jars of different raw materials (plants and flowers) for the camera, demonstrating their inclusion in the composition. There is a subtle illusion here, as if the materials are actually ingrained in the juice, which is not always the case as we well know. Of course the official formula never makes it out to the public and so any insider info I might be divulging to you from time to time is just that: insider info.
But holding up tubes of aromachemicals detracts from the "dream" of fragrance being all about exoticism and naturalness, I gather. (Even if Cavallier and Cresp would wanted to, I doubt the marketing executives would let them do that!)

For some reason the patchouli used in the majority of recent feminine releases does not smell especially natural to me: it lacks the mellowness and dirtiness of natural, aged, good quality patchouli which I have in my little inventory at home and Elle is no exception. Instead it is clean, hinting at shadowy, but not quite. Pleasant no doubt, but has overcome its welcome becoming ubiquitous.

Here is the accompanying commercial for Elle, with canadian supermodel Coco Rocha.(Now there's a name!) She's much younger than appearing to be in this, but the styling of Le Smoking eternel is smashing I have to admit.


(uploaded by laurentCM)

But to tell you the truth, I had the most fun while reading this story by blogger Kristopher Dukes. It's a classic!! Seriously, go read it!


Please check back later for another surprise post on perception.

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