Showing posts with label frangipani. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frangipani. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 15, 2020

By Kilian Moonlight in Heaven: short fragrance review

Kilian's Moonlight in Heaven is a fragrance I had my eye on for at least a year, nay, more! I took the opportunity to try it out in store with an American colleague, and we both oohed and aahed over its tropical floral glory which spelled summer writ large and in Technicolor. 


pic via

I'm not usually the tropical kind of gal, but there's something in this Calice Beckercreation which smells like frangipani nectar, like the evening air is moist, and warm, and engulfing you in an embrace of pure lust. There's a touch of sweet coconut in the top note, but it soon gives way to that fruity and nectarous quality of the tropical garlands that exude warmth and come hither. 




I kinda see why it's encased in the single blue bottle in a line of black bottles!

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: 

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Annick Goutal Songes: fragrance review

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


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

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


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

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

Painting Dreams on the Beach 1934 by Salvador Dali.
Photo of Camille Goutal & Isabelle Doyen by Antoine de Perceval 2007 via Swell City Guide

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Frequent Questions: Differences between Plumeria, Frangipani, Jasmine, Sampaguita & Pikake

In Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray, Lord Henry's wife's perfume leaves the scent of frangipani to linger in the room; the exact scent which troubled Jean des Esseintes, Huysmans's hero in À Rebours. "I guess he's just not the type that goes for jasmine perfume, but maybe he's what we need to mix with our blood now that we've lost Belle Reve", says Blanche Dubois to Stella about Stanley in A Streetcar Named Desire.
Frangipani, plumeria, jasmine, sampaguita, pikake...Although the above terms belong to roughly the same family of fragrant flowers, the olfactory profile of these delicious blossoms can be rather different, which necessitates a small guide into tracing their commonalities and differences.


Plumeria is the genus name for the more commonly used frangipani flower. While the botanist name comes ~as is usual in science~ from the 17th century French botanist Charles Plumier who studied the plant (indeed it's also spelled Plumiera), the common name is due to the Frangipani, a patrician Italian family of the 12th century famous for clashing with the papacy. The habit of scented leather gloves with jasmine, musk and civet became all the rage in the 16th century when Marie de Medici brought it into fashion in the French Court. Gilles Ménage quotes the trend in 1650 in his Les Origines de la Langue Françoise.
Allegedly it was the Marquis de Frangipani who invented the secret formula used to scent leather so as to divest it of the off smells of production; and when the flower was discovered later on, people recalled how the Frangipani Gloves smelled and attached the name to the plant in a reverse way of homage.
Frangipani literally means "breadbreakers" from the Italian phrase frangere il pane as the Middle Ages Italian family were known to distribute bread to the poor during a great famine; their crest is testament to that fact.

If you want to capture a snapshot of that wonderful tradition of scented gloves, indie perfumer Ayala Moriel has a fragrance called Frangipani Gloves, inspired by that very custom. Ormonde Jayne also makes a Frangipani Absolute fragrance with peachy sunny notes that know how to charm till the cedar-rich drydown. In fragrances the peachy note of gamma decalactone can boost the fleshy scent of varieties such as those of plumeria. Chantecaille's Frangipane on the other hand is a woodier, lighter scent which relies more on orange blossom than the intoxicating and rather "heavy" note of plumeria. Other plumeria fragrances include Plumeria by Terra Nova, En Fleur by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, Vanile Frangipanier by Laurence Dumont and Frangipani delle Indie by Tesori d'Oriente.

Other cultures and religions, such as Hindu and Buddhist, associate frangipani with temples, thus giving rise to its christening of "the Temple Tree" in the English speaking part of Sri Lanka. Its potential for perfume inspiration due to the sweet, narcotic scent even permeated incense: tropical incense blends with plumeria inclusion have "champa" in their name, such as Nag Champa. In modern Polynesian culture, the frangipani can be worn by women to indicate their relationship status; over the right ear if seeking a relationship, and over the left if taken. The scent of plumeria can be said to be a cross between citrusy and buttery, the sweet nuance appearing almost culinary with a hint of cinnamon and a worthy addition to any garden thanks to its colourful bouquet and fragrant emissions.



Pikake belongs to the wide family of jasmines (Jasminum): It is a specific species of jasmine, jasminum sambac or Nyctanthes sambac (nyctanthes literally means night-blooming) used in Hawaii for lei's where the name is uniformely applied instead of jasmine. It had made a vivid impression on me, upon opening botany books as a student, to find out that pikake is an homage to the half-Scottish, half-Hawaiian Princess Victoria Ka’iulani, famous for her attachement to both peacocks (the Hawanized name for which is "pikake") and jasmine flowers. Writes Mindi Reid [1]
"In Hawai'i, the small, pale and fragile jasmine blossom is called by the same name as a vivid and grandiose bird: "pikake"- the peacock. The duality of this "Hawaiianized" English word is thought-provoking; in English, it is the bird - a visual image of color, shape, and texture that is evoked, while in 'Olelo Hawai'i (the Kanaka Maoli - indigenous native - language) it is the flower those syllables bring to mind - a matter of intense, emotion-kindling fragrance".
In Philipinnes where jasmine sambac is the national flower ~imported as far back as the 17th century from India~ it's called sampaguita. The Spanish sounding name derives from the Philipinno sumpa kita, meaning "I promise you"; it's easy to see how this highly fragrant flower stood for devotion and erotic loyalty! I remember from my travels how Thailand and Singapore, alongside their famous orchids, prize this green vine that emits such a strangely narcotic, almost fleshy smell...
Specificaly it is "Maid of Orleans" , a variety possessing flowers with a single layer of five oval shaped petals, which is commonly referred to as "Sampaguita" (or Philippine Jasmine). The same type with the difference that flowers have doubled petals (resembling mini roses) is also referenced by the names Grand Duke of Tuscan and Kampupot, a variety common in India. Jasmine sambac blossom is characteristically the one which is used in China to aromatize tea, resulting in a delicate and revered blend called simply "jasmine tea".

If you want to identify a fragrance with the intoxicating, sweet scent of pikake, you can try Child perfume oil; it's almost solely comprised of pikake, reprising the heady aroma of the white blossoms as they open in the warmth of the summer evening. Ormonde Jayne has a fragrance called Sampaquita [sic], which weaves a lightly aqueous balance between freesia & water lily and a citrusy fruity top via magnolia & lychee; the effect is one of soapy jasmine blossoms.
Annick Goutal Songes is one fragrance which combines both frangipani and jasmine sambac (sampaguita) alongside a big helping of ylang ylang, resulting in an orgy of white flowers on a vanillic base.

[1]Reid, M. (2003). An Icon of Two Selves: Remembering Hawai'i's Crown Princess, Victoria Ka'iulani

Frangipani blossoms and jasmine sambac photo via wikimedia commons

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Jasmine series: part 4 ~mellow jasmine suggestions

The fact that jasmine may take on a more sinister turn accounting for fecal undertones that leave many people with apprehension and dismay does not mean that jasmine fragrances have to espouse that aspect. It is perfectly possible to evoke a balanced approach which could project a soft, mellow and elegant disposition and could be more easily wearable for even the non die-hard jasmine fans. To this end today we are examining some suggestions that might fall into that category of mellow jasmine compositions.
The archetypal example of a smooth, beautiful jasmine that could be worn sufficiently well without evoking particularly dark tendencies is the perennial Joy by Jean Patou. It remains something of an icon in the status of luxe perfumery, partly due to its initial advertising campaign in the economically hard year of 1930, coined by Elsa Maxwell (“the costliest perfume in the world”) and partly due to its unparalleled standards of raw materials. Patou went to great lengths to assure us that 1 ounce of Joy demands 10600 jasmine blooms and 28 dozen roses to be produced. This would be not as impressive hadn’t those flowers been the venerable jasminum grandiflorum of Grasse in the south of France and the two crown glories of Damascene rose from Bulgaria and Rose de Mai (rosa centifolia) again from Grasse. The current nose for Patou since 1997, Jean Michel Duriez, is monitoring the fields and crops to ascertain that the end result rendered out of those two varieties meets the quality control criteria demanded by the house of Patou.

Whether the quality has gone downhill as with most commercial perfumes of today in comparison to the vintage is a matter of dire attention and discussion on several fora.
Some people have expressed a concern that the richness of the floral ingredients has been a tad jeopardized, however for what is worth Luca Turin insists that the quality of the end perfume remains unchanged and his info and sample batch comes staight from Patou headquarters. Since I do not have different batches of Joy to compare and contrast, because my bottles come from the mid-90s, I cannot speak with authority on the matter. The testing I have contacted in stores in different concentrations and places did not leave me with serious doubt as to the up keeping of the formula, however I repeat that I could not possibly ascertain this beyond any doubt since I do not have comparable material at hand from different eras; on top of that ascertaining when a particular bottle was actually produced is so very hard, since perfumers -unlike wine producers- do not label the production year on the bottle (which would make our life so much easier, had it been the case!).

In any case, Joy unfolds majestic proportions of floral grandeur with a nobility and restraint of hand that points to a very skilled perfumer indeed: Henri Alméras. Keeping the noble nature of the two focal points of the suite intact he garlanded them with the merest touch of honeysuckle, ylang ylang and tuberose, anchored by a very light sandalwood base which manages to smell opulent yet beautifully balanced.
It is my impression that there is a difference of emphasis on the two different concentrations of eau de toilette and eau de parfum. The former is characterized by a more pronounced jasmine intonation like a solo aria in the midst of a lively Mozart opera, while the latter is a bit more powdery with accents of rosiness that permeate the whole with a softness that resembles a Schumman lullaby. In fact the Eau de Parfum is repackaged Eau de Joy, which was a different perfume than Joy in parfum, per Luca Turin. Given my proclivities for jasmine and because this is an article devoted to jasmine, I opt for the eau de toilette, however both concentrations are sure to please the lovers of fine perfumes.
The parfum is assuredly more animalic in the civet direction (a wonderful characteristic and thus the one which I always prefer over other concentrations) and stays close to the body with an elegance that speaks highly of its aristocratic pedigree.

Next on the mellow balanced list is First by Van Cleef and Arpels. It has been adequately discussed on Perfume Shrine in Jasmine Series Part 2, so suffice to say that it is a very elegant and classy success. If you haven’t tried it, please do so and preferably in the eau de parfum concentration which highlights its attributes well.

Diptyque’s Jardin Clos is a jasmine buried in the plush of lilacs and the freshness of greenery of a churchyard full of hyacinths. There is an element of bulb wetness as if the grounds have just been rained upon in the early spring morning and some stale stems that go hand in hand with all cathedrals with cobblestone roads leading up to them; a distant whiff of a little spice like cloves on some parishioner’s breath. But oh wait! There I see some tourists coming up the tracks as well. They are dressed in jeans and crisp minimalist shirts, their hair in a modern simple cut, dancing round their faces; they are probably wearing L’eau d’Issey in discernible amounts.
Sadly the oakmoss does not temper the aqueous quality as much as needed.
I appreciate Yves Coueslant and Christiane Gautrot’s vision of naturalistic fragrances that evoke paysages and memories. It’s just that this one is not as distinctive as the rest of them in the niche category. On the other hand, if you want a fragrance that will not raise eyebrows from the non niche lovers in the general public out there I can’t see this one doing that. Unless we’re talking about people who hated L’eau d’Issey the first time around!
The official notes for it:
Watermelon, White Lilac, Mimosa, Hyacinth, Seringa, Hollyhocks,
Wisteria, Mignonette, Wallflowers, Daffodils, Virginia Cedar,
Oakmoss, Tolu Balsam
Official site here.

Ayala Moriel’s Yasmin is completely different: to mellow the animalic character of Yasmin she uses the even more daring cassie/acacia note that is dense and opulent! The combination is successful, paradoxically, because there is a firmly measured amount of it and the base notes of amber and sandalwood are never too loud, allowing the slightly greener ribbons of the opening enfold the little blossoms in a cheerful embrace. Out of all the notes there is the predominance of a realistic gardenia note emerging, which veers the perfume in alleys of nightfall lushness. But the mastery in Yasmin lies in coaxing this into submission so as to be the single blossom corsage on one’s wrist, not a big bright crown of blossoms on one’s hair.
The overall character is sweet and uplifting, bright and romantic like a summer’s sojourn on a Mediterranean cottage overlooking the sea, friendly laughs by noon, erotic strolls by night.
You can see her description and sample on her site here.


Linda Pilkington, the perfumer for Ormonde Jayne’s Sampaquita (based on jasmine sambac) turned her attention to more tropical surrounding. Although the greeting note of bergamot and grass might evoke the Sicilian landscape of comparably familiar Mediterranean memories, it soon mixes lychee fruity tones with an acqueous feel of water lily that manage to mix with other floral notes such as the waxy slightly lemony magnolia petals, the green of lily of the valley, the sharp and pepper of freesia and the softness of rose to become an exotic sweet mélange that is balanced and surprisingly subtle. The jasmine note is not particularly evident, which is a shame for jasmine lovers like me, but could make this an easy choice for those who prefer their jasmine more subdued in a supporting role.
The OJ site says the following:
"National Flower of the Philippines, literally translated as 'I Promise You', Sampaquita flower is a symbol of purity and fragility, coupled with fidelity and resolve. The scent opens with an unmistakable summer bouquet, bursting forth with sun-kissed lychee set on a canvas of bergamot, grass oil and magnolia flowers in full seductive bloom. The marriage of these elements, together with a dusky floral heart of sampaquita absolute, freesia and muguet, combine to form a fusillade of fabulous intensity. An inspired quartet of base notes, musk, vetiver, moss and ambrette seed, unify and harmonise this sensational summer scent".

Official notes:
Top notes: Lychee, grass oil, bergamot and magnolia
Heart notes: Sampaquita absolute, freesia, muguet, rose and water lilies
Base notes: Musk, vetivert, moss and ambrette seed

In fact it reminds me quite a bit of Patricia de Nicolai’s Juste une rêve, which is another tropical floral of the same proclivities or even of Chance by Chanel with the balancing vetiver base under the florals and the fruits over it.

In contrast Ormonde Jayne’s Frangipani Absolute, which is much more assertive and bold, with brighter accents, proclaims its presence for all to see. The start is all lemony and lime rind that is quite loud, while it progresses to buttery warmth like tuberose crossed with a lush juicy fruit and dying hyacinths in a vase; which is also a tad traitorous to the spirit of real jasmine, like previously, but oh well...
However there is no dark animalic tonality, neither is it light nor “fresh”, so it fits in the middle category designated for our mellow jasmine florals. The musky base with cedar accents is balanced and supporting, accounting for a tropical scent that will not induce nausea from too much synthetic sweetness which is a high compliment for this category of scents. If you ever venture in the jungle of a southeastern country, all humid atmosphere and animal noises heard in the background, don’t forget to pack a little bit of this too. I think it fits perfectly.
Official notes:
Top notes: Linden Blossom, Magnolia Flower, Lime Peel
Heart notes: White Frangipani Absolute, Jasmine, Rose absolute, Tuberose absolute,
Water Lily, Plum, Green Orchid oil
Base notes: Camber, Musk, Cedar, French Vanilla absolute

View the Ormonde Jayne fragrances at her official site


Jo Malone in her fragrance combining bag of goods has Honeysuckle & Jasmine. Completely true to spirit and name, this smells like those two summery blossoms combined at different intervals: honeysuckle opening, which is more pronounced, jasmine subtle heart and exit. Light and sweet, like a walk through summer gardens with those two vines climbing up the fence, sitting under the shade sipping freshly squeezed sweet lemonade. There is a woody note in the background too with the merest whiff of clean powdery musk for the finale.
It pairs really well with her Orange Blossom or French Lime Blossom for even more transparency; or if you want to be daring pair with her warm 154 woody scent.

See more details here


Next post in the Jasmine Series will tackle fresh and translucent interpretations of jasmine.

Painting "La Naissance de Venus" by Eugène Emmanuel Amaury-Duval. Poster from the film The Painted Veil courtesy of cineparmenos.gr

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