Amethyst Fatale by Oriflame: fragrance review

Has it ever happened to you to completely dismiss something new merely on the value of past experiences and then be proved wrong? Surely it has! This is what happened to me with the newest perfume by Swedish skincare and cosmetics brand Oriflame, concerning their newest release Amethyst Fatale. Although I have sampled many of their products, I had always assumed that their fragrances are second in hierarchy after their skincare which forms the lion's share of their revenue anyway. Experiences with their fleeting specimens also contributed to a nonchalant view towards sampling more of them. Because although many were decent enough, their lasting power left something to be desired, which hinted at a cost-effective management decision.
Not so with their latest however. The first in the so-called Gem Collection, a line of scents that aims to be inspired by gemstones (obviously a big trend now if one judges by the similar offerings by Bulgari, Olivier Dubrano and Lalique) and focus on the perfumers themselves instead of the celebritoid du jour, managed to convince me that it might be worth a shot sporting it from time to time, especially as it has been created by Jean Jacques (responsible for Balmya, most of the Matsushima Masaki scents and L'or de Torrente) with the collaboration of one of my favourite noses, Francis Kurkdjian. And lo and behold, compliments ensued. Not a bad start!

According to Cosmeticsdesign-europe.com:

Sweden-based firm's new perfume is not marketed on the pull of fast moving celebrities, but on the role the perfumer behind the scent.
"A key trend in the fragrance market is the rise of signature fragrances and Gem Collection is tapping into that trend," said a spokesperson for Oriflame .
In the case of Amethyst Fatale, the signatory is the creator of the perfume, the well known "nose" Jean Jacques.
Oriflame's decision to use Jean Jacques' signature to market the new fragrance represents a new take on the endorsement idea.
"Consumers are becoming more aware of the complexity of perfumery and so educated consumers are likely to be drawn to fragrances that are endorsed by experts rather than celebrities," said Briony Davies from Euromonitor.

Perfumer Jean Jacques attempted to translate the Amethyst gemstone into a scent whilst being guided by the image of the femme fatale whose arresting beauty and gaze makes you dive into "an unexpected world of passion and danger". To complete this task, Jean Jacques used the iris.
"I could imagine in the elegant odour of the iris: powdery, soft and caressing, all of which echo the amethyst," said Jacques.

Amethyst with its deep purple colour (although there is a green variety as well, called prasiolite) is considered to make the wearer calm and in control of his various emotional levels. Its name derives from the Greek amethystos/αμεθυστος which means sober and is traditionally linked to protection from intoxication and to those born in the month of February. But don't let that stop you!
Its mythological root lies in the tale of Dionysus, god of wine and celebration, who was insulted by a mortal who didn't acknowledge him. Enraged, he spotted a young maiden named Amethyst. The unsuspecting girl, on her way to pay tribute to the goddess Diana, was detained and two tigers were summoned by the god to devour the youth. Amethyst cried out to Diana in despair and the goddess quickly transformed the young mortal into a glimmering white stone (known as “quartz”) to protect her. When he realized his wrongdoing Dionysus wept tears of wine onto the stone staining it purple, creating the gem we know today as amethyst.
Lovely tale, isn't it?


Iris and the colour purple are very au courant these days as well and with the charmingly pleasant experience of Prada Infusion d'Iris and the less exciting Iris Ganache by Guerlain in my short-term memory banks, I set out to explore another iris-based scent. This time it involved the smooth ambience of the modern chypre, a concept on which I talked in detail before.
Amethyst Fatale promises "pure fragrance intoxication. Combining warm amber notes with powdery iris and lush rose, this unpredictable scent refuses to be forgotten" according to Oriflame.

As I open the little glass vials of Eau de Parfum available for sampling, the impression of a chiaroscuro patchouli composition is greeting me with a wink. The feeling is far removed from the headshop and into the protection of clothes from moths, as was one of its primal uses. You can almost feel the tactile sensation of soft wools caressing your cheek as you open up an armoire with plush knits. Its crushed powder is gently folded in rosy liquid that recalls damp earth as if rained upon with the echo of distant thunder. The marriage of rose to patchouli is cemented in tradition but with the flair of a first-throes passion, as those two amorous lovers adore bringing each other's best points out: patchouli making the rosy petals unfurl indefinetely, mellowing them and anchoring the feminine smell; rose caressing the green leaves and rendering them softly powdery.
Francis Kurkdjian is of course famous for his modern rendition of roses -and abstract floral notes in general- such as in Guerlain'sRose Barbare, Ferre Rose, Narciso For Her or the re-issued Rumeur by Lanvin. And here I can see the mentor's influence.

The iris part might be contributing to the earthy feel I get as well, although to my nose this is not a predominantly iris scent, but rather a palimpsest. There is an element of powdery tonality that reminds one of white musks as used in popular renditions lately, as well as the slightly woody and vanillish whiff of benzoin. The impression is never too sweet and in that regard it is infinitely superior to most things currently put on a pedestral on perfume-store shelves and certainly to Armani Code whose bottle it might be argued that it vaguely reflects.
As it exits the scene in lento moves it does so with the gentle refinement of a lady who is assured of her attractiveness enough not to assume poses and goes for the subtle approach of white silk underwear instead of racy red lace.


Oriflame is available in European countries and overseas in the Americas and Asia, but not in the United States.
So, for our readers in the US I have a couple of samples I would be glad to offer if they enter a comment that they would like to receive one. Hurry while the offer lasts!

Stay tuned for an interview with Jean Jacques next!
Ad pic from Oriflame, ring pic courtesy of askDaveWest

The new Rumeur by Lanvin: Fragrance review & history

When the old becomes new again we may be witnessing Gaudí's "Sagrada Familia" or "Le Tombeau de Couperin" by Ravel.
What I mean: it’s not necessarily a bad thing! Enter the re-orchastration of Rumeur by the house of Lanvin which is both rather pretty and completely different than the somptuous vintage formula.

Jeanne Lanvin was originally a milliner that came to design clothes for her daughter and her friends’ daughters, establishing a salon that finally catered for adults just before World War I. Soon the salon became an entity of its own, continuing the tradition till today under the creative baguette of young designer Albert Elbaz.
It is however the perfume spectrum of Lanvin that has not survived that well over the years and that is assuredly a pity.

Jeanne Lanvin had a mysterious personage named Madame Zed (doesn’t she sound like a Graham Greene novel set in post-war Vienna?), an elderly Russian, creating perfumes for her, the last of which was the legendary My Sin, a very successful triumph. After that it was André Fraysse who was hired as house perfumer in 1924, segueing on to create what was termed by another great nose (Edmond Roudnitska) “the most spectacular tetralogy in perfumery”: Arpège in 1927, Scandale in 1931, Rumeur in 1932 and Prétexte in 1937. Sadly, only Arpège with its sonorous musical name still circulates on perfume counters today (after some adventures in formulaic changes, but happily restored to its original glory finally), as the world is fickle and tastes change, it seems. It might have to do with the fact that the perfume department of the house was sold to L’oréal conglomerate, too. (But you’d call me leftist if I insisted and I wouldn’t want you to do that). In any case, Arpège saw a flanker on its tail in recent years, éclat de Arpège, a pleasant, lilac -coloured, fruity floral that coincided with the latest olfactory trends, but bore no relation to the rich tradition of the house.

And then, just like that, last year saw the re-emergence of the old glory of Rumeur. Or was it but a specter of its old self?
Certainly the new version bears no olfactory relation to the old one’s dark chypre trail of fruity nuances on a dark mossy bed of plush. Those were times when such things were appreciated. By today’s standards and due to the eclipse of oakmoss from perfume formulae the vintage Rumeur is intoxicating and very perfumey; although by no means unwearable or outdated. Still, the house needed a new perfume to boost its re-vamped image and the difficulty of obtaining rights for use of a new name, not to mention the brainstorming needed for the inspiration of a successful one, were stumbling blocks that eased the acceptance of an older name being stuck on a new product. This dampens our hopes of them ever re-issuing their older treasure, like for instance Guerlain did with their Sous le Vent, but rather continue on that path that Piguet led with Baghari. However, much like Baghari, the result in Rumeur’s case is not disappointing.

Conceived by Francis Kurkdjian , the talented perfumer who is responsible for among others Narciso for Her, Rose Barbare for the Guerlain art et matiere line, and Eau Noire for Dior, it has his familiar style of silky elegance that can never become cloying or childish. Retaining the mere sketch of a chypre composition as most new “pink chypres” do (the term was brilliantly coined by Ayala Moriel to denote the new chypres that lack an oakmoss base) it has the abstract powdery floral feel I have come to expect of this exciting new category of perfumes that come to the rescue after the avalanche of too many fruity florals and teeny bobber vanillic candysticks. It’s a welcome change and a subtly sensual trend I am quite willing to follow.

The new Rumeur begins on a subtle and fresh plane of aldehydes that support the exquisite florancy of pretty seringa, the family of which lilac is an offspring, and of quiet soft-petaled magnolia, like transparent veils of a white material on a soft feminine body illuminated by the afternoon sun. If you have been enamoured with the discreet sexiness of Narciso for Her especially in its superior eau de toilette version like I have, then you are sure to appreciate the loveliness such an effect produces in the new Rumeur. Although patchouli is listed in both scents you would be hard pressed to discern it as the whole effect is of a very sensual but abstract aroma that is hard to pinpoint.
There is subtle muskiness and sweetness that whispers come hither in a way that does not entirely do away with romantic sensibilities of yore. It culminates in a panorama of woody notes enriched with the depth of ambroxan lending projection and decent lasting power on skin and clothes.
On the whole, picture it as a silky rosy robe de chambre ready to shed its modesty with one fell sweep of the cute ribbon that anchors it to a supple waist and you’re there.

The bottle is quite pleasant to look at, a bit like the shape of Promesse by Cacharel, with a matte golden ring on the cap, from which I don’t advise you to hold it like the perversely smokey eyed and modernly coiffed model does in the printed advertisements. In my opinion there is a discrepancy between advertising image and actual scent in this one as the no doubt innovative clothes of the model do not reflect the prettiness and romanticism of the perfumed result. However in an aggressive society which reflects in the sexual arena as well, it is the visual rather than the olfactual that is predatory and mean. Happily the new Rumeur is neither.


Official notes for the reissued Rumeur by Lanvin: magnolia, white roses, jasmine sambac, seringa, orange blossom, lily of the valley, patchouli, musks, ambroxan.

Available from major department stores.

Top pic courtesy of cofe.ru, "My sin" ad from okadi, new ad for Rumeur from escentual.

New perfumes by Francis Kurkdjian : the Indult line

A new ultra luxe niche is being explored by young prolific perfumeur Francis Kurkdjian, famous for his Le Male for Galutier, Narciso For her and Rose Barbare for boutique Guerlain. Indult is an old french word from 1498 signifying the privileges given by the french King or the Pope to esteemed individuals. With the desire to launch something that has comparable exclusivity rights as those bestowed upon by a king, Indulte is comprised by 3 scents that are issued in only 999 bottles each. The ingredients are rare and precious, largely dependant on natural essences, which seemingly is the way to go for trully luxurious fragrances.
No sampling programme is scheduled, to retain exclusivity.

The 3 fragrances will be:
Isvaraya (‘divine’ in hindi): a fruity chypre with jasmin sambac, indian prunes and patchouli
Tihota (‘sugar’ in polynesian): an exotic concoction of fresh vanilla pods and various muscs.
Manakara (deriving from a region in Madagascar famous for its litchis): a fruity rose blend of turkish and bulgarian rose married to succulent litchi


The bottle is an architectural rectangle with a black rounded cap, much like the classic Chanels and it will be encased in a pallisander wood box designed by Etienne de Suza.
The three perfumes come in Eau de parfum concentration in 50ml/1.7oz bottles at 160 euros each. They will be exclusively sold at french Sephora stores (call +33(0)8 92 707070 to find the store nearest you) and Indult site
Please note that for now only the french version works (click on "Entrer" on the left)You may contact +33(0)1 58 18 38 67 to become a member or click on the Membre button to enter your data. A personalised card will be made and then you can order what you want. You can also email them at: contact@indult.fr


Pic of black caviar courtesy of Fauchon. Pic of bottles from osmoz.fr

What do the rich smell of?

It might seem a silly question. And yet, it made me ponder a bit. Intrigued by gut response received upon casual comments on various fora and the amount of controversy that issues of money and class raise even in classless United States, I have been coming to the conclusion that it is indeed a loaded question.

Upon initial shifting the general concensus seems to be that people with loaded pockets and platinum cards with credit limits on the upper echelons really go for the super exclusive, the elusive, the prestigeous and the ridiculously priced.
The recent example of the wedding gift of Clive Christian perfume to Katie Holmes by Tom Cruise, for her to wear on her wedding day is a case in point of the latter. No.1 retails for 600 euros for a 50ml/1.7oz bottle of parfum; which is actually the minimum basic salary in my country. I leave deductions to you...
The real question would be: "is it worth it?" This to me at least has to do solely with content and not presentation. Otherwise one can decant a glorious perfume in the most exquisite Baccarat bottle and enjoy it from there or just use a milk carton, it does not make that big a difference in my mind...
Purpotedly, Clive Christian No.1 for women consists of only the finest, rarest and most precious materials. However there is so much one can put into a perfume in terms of quality, after which point the whole starts to smell overwhelming and bad. I mean, upwards a certain point it does not make any difference because there is so much one can include anyway. And if one cares to look at the list of notes, one stumbles upon the insurmountable block of lily of the valley; a note that cannot be successfuly extracted from nature, a note that has to be recreated with other elements, most common of which are Citronellyl Acetate varietys A and Acetate pure, Geranyl Acetate pure, Lindenol and Terpineol Alpha JAX. As to other notes, the majority of top notes consists of things that do not skyrocket the paycheck for obtaining them: lime, Sicilian mandarin, cardamom, nutmeg, and thyme. And in its floral heart, ylang ylang is the rarity in the cost department of floral essences inventory (meaning it's relatively cheap), hence called "poor man's jasmine". The ambery woods of the base is so vague that it leaves me doubtful as to what exactly goes in the production.
So sorry, I am not convinced the price tag really reflects the content. A certain amount of snobbism is involved as well. And by the way, since the hostorian never really leaves my writing, snob derives from the notification that newly rich young men got upon entering the aristocratic colleges of the old Britain, namely Oxford and Cambridge: s.nob, denoting sine nobilitas, latin for "no nobility". Worth keeping in mind.

Joy by Jean Patou, Henri Alméras' tour de force, was touted as "the costliest perfume in the world" back in its heyday in 1930, affirming the inextricable tie between perfume, luxury and financial abandon. It was actually Elsa Maxwell, venomous gossip queen of the 30s that came up with the infamous moniker about it, the one that sealed its success besides its rich bouquet of the best jasmine and lushest rose. But those were times of recession and ruin after the Wall Street crash of 1929. It was completely irrational then as is Clive Christian now, even though it was initially devised as a less costly means of giving american women a slice of Patou's prestige now that they could no longer afford his couture. The difference though hinged on the pretenciousness that is lacking in Joy's case. Today Joy pure parfum in the 30ml/1oz bottle costs 160£ (british pounds) or 299$ at internet discounters.

Marie Antoinette is well known for her excesses and the recent biopic made by Sofia Coppola has brought her once again in the spotlight. There is a well known tale about how it was her perfume that sent her to the guillotine. On June 20,1791 Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette and their family retinue attempted to escape to eastern France, where troops loyal to the monarchy were waiting after the revolution had gained control of Paris. Their flight however was cut off at Varennes; they were recognised and arrested there and sent off to Paris under escort where they met their demise at the guillotine two years later. There is some speculation that it was the divine quality (and contrast with the rest of the people) of Marie Antoinette's perfumes and pomades that set her apart despite her disguise when they travelled, as 18th century France was a place infested with disease, full of open sewers and all that at a time when talking a bath was not to be indulged in often.
According to The Scotsman, many people have been intrigued by the scent of the decadent royal and an effort to recreate it has resulted in "Sillage de la Reine" (Queen's wake) by Elisabeth de Feydeau, "a writer who stumbled upon the lost recipe, along with the Parisian perfume-maker Francis Kurkdjian. Ms Feydeau was preparing a biography of its inventor, Jean-Louis Fargeon, the court perfumer, when she made the discovery. Mr Kurkdjian agreed that he should try to resurrect the scent using the techniques and ingredients of Fargeon's day "just to see if we could. It was very difficult because although we possess the same primary materials, the environment now is very different." But he was satisfied with the result - a mixture of jasmine, rose, iris, tuberose, lavender, musk, vanilla, ambergris, cedar, sandalwood and other essences. "The perfume is 100 per cent natural, and certainly something that the queen would have worn," he added. Ms Feydeay said smelling the Queen's Wake is "as if you're walking past a magnificent bouquet comprising flowers of every season. It has an incredible fullness." The whole composition has been likened to a precursor of Chanel #5, which begs the question why pay so much for something that can be had for much less, but I guess it's not the super-rich that wil grab those bottles but the super-collectors. You can read about the recreated perfume clicking here

And what do the rich and famous wear? One of my perfume projects is to document a list of perfumes picked up by the rich and famous, some richer than others, some more famous than others and the result can be seen clicking here It seems that among the more exclusive choices they sometimes go for things that are set by trends, or for the ubiquitous Creed fragrance which I largely attribute to Creed's magnificent PR machine, more than their consistent taste. It's interesting and fun to peruse the list however.

What do ordinary people think the rich smell of? I think most folks are judging by what is considered Bon Chic, Bon Genre when they attribute classic Rue Cambon Chanel perfumes, classic and boutique Guerlains and some Goutals to the rich and incidentally classy people. However as we all know rich and classy are not interchangeable and one should leave a leaway for the more vulgar choices. Those latter ones would have a more outspoken and loud personality to go with newly acquired money, elaborate porn-chic french manicures on long talons, bleached hair to an inch of their lives and gaudy jewels when none is required for women, really heavy all-gold watches for men. At least that's the image I freely associate with it and I would be a little coy in naming specific names.
My personal experience tells me that the richer and classier one is, the less inclined he/she is to drown all the others around in the fumes! The really rich people I have known and smelled have all worn light, subtle fragrances that were imperceptible until they leaned for a social shake of hands.
What did I smell? Aqua di Parma original cologne, Diorella and Eau du Cologne Impériale by Guerlain (latter was on a guy).
A couple of others had something on I did not recognise definitely, but still in the same vein. They were ship owners and involved in shipping: loads of money, no doubt about that.

And finally yes, when all is said and done if you're finding yourself savouring the waft from a syrupy potent composition, it's unlikely you're downwind from Princess Caroline of Monaco. I'm sorry.......

Pic comes from Czguest by Slim Aaron