The Dior Chypres series ~Diorama: fragrance review

"Cabochard, Dioressence, Diorama were offerings to goddesses, not presents to women". This is how Luca Turin addressed the masterpiece by Edmond Roudnitska that came in 1949 like a luminous cognac diamond to adorn the crown of Christian Dior parfums. He couldn't have said it better.
Diorama, unlike its cohorts in divinity who have lapsed from Heaven, was recently re-issued (along with Diorling) by Roja Dove to results that do not insult its precious, beautiful visage of a classical Venus de Milo.

Luca Turin has been reported to pan the jus circulating at the Avenue Montaigne shop in comparison to the vintage -which one would assume he got procured by the miraculous and forbidable Mme Pillaud in Menton:

"It was real Diorama, a one-ounce tester, the first postwar Dior perfume, not the crap you you buy today for two hundred dollars on avenue Montaigne that bears no resemblance to the original fragrance." (Chandler Burr, "Emperor of Scent" 2003, p.19)

I have alas only dried up dregs of my glamorous, Paris-shopping grandmother's mini vial to compare to the reissued version which I sampled recently {click to learn how}, but if the reissue is any miniscule indication of the greatness of the original, then by God, I would have been blinded with awe.

According to perfumer Jean Claude Ellena, talking about Diorama :

"No perfume has ever had more complex form and formula, more feminine contours, more sensual, more carnal. It seduces us with its spicy notes: pepper, clove, cinnamon, nutmeg, cumin, the scent of skin. It is disturbing with its animalic notes: castoreum, civet, musk. All the accords and themes to follow are contained in this perfume: the wood and the violet, the plum and the peach, the jasmine and the spices"

(author's translation).

Diorama is a chypre of classical structure poised between Femme and Mitsouko and rounding out the best features of both, while it could also be argued that it contains the sperms of calm and restrained fruity exploration that will be expressed in Parfum de Thèrese and Diorella. Unfortunately for me, Parfum de Thèrese soon acquires a metallic aqueous aspect that I find disagreeable, so perhaps I might not be the best judge of such a comparison. The idea however had been suggested to me by good friend Denyse Beaulieu and I think it's worth exploring if you get the chance to have both at hand.

The bergamot top note of Diorama allied to spicy notes of nutmeg, cinnamon and cardamom recall the spice caravan that leads the camels of Eau d'Hermès, another Roudnitska creation, but also the cinnamon bite of Mitsouko that contributes to its spicy woodiness. Cumin was explored as a sweaty note addition to the re-issue of Femme (under Olivier Cresp's baguette) and contibutes a lot to its carnality, which I personally find very pleasurable. In Diorama, cumin is apparently held in check and other elements of more animalic nature are sensed in the depths of the scent, very slowly.

The plum element of Femme , a base of a methyl ionone compound, adorns the composition with a richness that greets you upon first smell along with peach aldehydes, all golden and ripe, softening the whole into a velvety sheen. It is so smooth, so buttery, you can't help stopping and inhaling deeply, admiring your own humble self even if you are feeling like hell and feel even worse.
Diorama has the rare power to obliterate anything you might project visually and transport the one who smells it into a better place, a better time. Its clear, incadescent heart of jasmine which I feel emerge after the first ten minutes projects warmly in a radius that encompasses everyone that will lean a little bit closer. It is a jasmine that is rich, ardent and indeed beautiful. Despite what notes are given, as I lean on my wrists pondering on the beauty of such a smell I perceive a clear lily of the valley note, an aroma that is usually replicated by hydroxicitronellal, as lily of the valley/muguet is a flower whose smell is elusive. (It is well known that Roudnitska grew the heady flowers to study them in order to replicate their divine smell in Diorissimo). That note gives an unexpected freshness, like the one that will surface in Diorella along with hesperidic and peachy touches later on and here marries well with jasmine and another white floral of a greener, piquant aspect.
You can't really distinguinsh when the mossy aspects of vetiver, moss and patchouli enter the scene like dramatic actors in a Shakesperean Midsummer Night's Dream, but when they do along with erotic undertones of labdanum and the leathery odour of animalic castoreum you know they will stay on the skin for hours mesmerising you.

All the themes evolve and revolve one into the other, like "a dream within a dream". You could say that Diorama was the seminal work of Roudnitska that contains his profound ideas on perfume aesthetics to be later dissected and minutely examined in his prolific career.

The lasting power is phenomenal for an eau de toilette concentration (at least on my skin) and in this regard it is excellent value for money.

Diorama, the way I perceive it, smells opulent and quite old-fashioned: the way real women smelled all those years ago, the way my glamorous grandmother smelled, when the hysteria of artificial freshness hadn't surged and people actually dressed for dinner even if by themselves at home. I know, it sounds such a weird concept to our modern ears...However if you have ever got into a satin little slipdress in cerulean blue and got the escargots and Cristalle from the fridge to celebrate by yourself, instead of munching Oreos wearing flannel bear-printed pyjamas, you know what I mean. In short, Diorama is a retrospective. But so much worth it...

Available in the classic 125 ml bottle of eau de toilette.
Boutique Dior is located at 28-30 Avenue Montaigne, 75008 Paris.
Fax number to order: 00 33 1 40 73 57 95
Also available at Le Bon Marché (in Paris) and at Harrods (at Roja Dove's Haute Parfumerie) in London.

Pic from okadi. Painting Pygmalion and Galatea by Jean-Léon Gérôme courtesy of allposters.com. Translations of JCE quote from the french by helg

Ipanema and A la figue by Satellite: fragrance reviews

Sometimes one comes across some special people who are kind, generous, lovely. And on some rare occassions it so happens that those special people are also "perfume people", aromaphiles. I have known a few of those and they have sent me wonderful, rare things to try out, of which I am going to continue reporting in the future for your delectation.
One especially lovely lady known for her tremendous generosity gifted me with an assorted bag of goodies that included two of the new Satellites, I had talked about before: Ipanema and A la figue. She is deeply thanked for the sniffa experience.
So without further ado, my impressions of the two.

Ipanema named after the infamous brazilian beach between Leblon and Arpoador in Rio de Janeiro is imbued in Curacao shades of an endless turqouise, clear like a jewel made of blue topaz. The colour alone is making this enchanting to look at and enticing to put on. The official notes list ylang ylang, orange, grapefruit, freesia, sandalwood, coconut, white flowers, tonka bean, vanilla, sea accord and patchouli.
Now coconut has never been a very favourite perfume note of mine, because of the association I get with those dreaded pine-cardboard things dangling from the mirrors of derelict taxis, swaying their way across the national routes on your way from a rural airport to the point of your vacation destination on a white rock island. For some uncanny reason, most of my similar itineraries have been branded by this same memory, taxi driver always kind and offering tips and quips about the vacation spot to be visited, often also chain-smoking. Yet the permeating coconut scent of the pine decoration diverting my attention. Luckily, this all happened during the summer, when windows are rolled way down, when the nature is simmering under the hot brazing sun and the herbs of the field sing their own Pan-flute tune. The greek paysage smells nothing like coconut, to be sure. This pertains to far more tropical destinations, such as the one invoked by the mention of Brazil and Ipanema, of course. So I can see why the inclusion.
The coconut is quite pronounced which will satisfy people with a craving for the exotic and coupled with copious amounts of ylang ylang it takes the whole into a place of abandon to the sensuality of physical pleasures. You have to make sure that your wax is perfect and your bikini is brazilian-worthy-tiny, or at least cultivate that fantasy in your mind like the best of Heffner wannabes want you to do.
Regardless, the fragrance alone can get you to a place that looks like a technicolour movie of the 50s starring Elvis but underneath the dark mantle of earthy patchouli, as the scent progresses on skin, reminds you that this is the country of the favelas.(for a quick definition click here) A place of a wide divide: between the rich and the poor, the superficial and the meaningful, the facade and the core. Ipanema the fragrance, although not aiming for such meaningful elucidations, is adequatelly bringing the two into the fore.

A la figue, another Satellite new scent, also uses coconut as a fragrance note, although it is not officially mentioned. The playfull name that etches itself on both the figue(french for fig) and the fugue (depart, as in travel or daydreaming I like to imagine)caught my attention and the association of figs is very greek-like to me, as it is often the case that large fig trees are scattered across the fields and yards of properties imbuing the air with their dusty, creamy aroma that promises langorous days of summer, figs consumed after a dip in the big blue sea, washed and peeled under the tree and consumed with wild hunger after the swim, the dark red sticky juice marring hands, lips, caftans over bikins and assorted paraphernalia necessary for a day spent in the great ourdoors. It is no coincidence that L'artisan's Premier Figuier is one of my summer staples, as it evokes all those endearing associations in my mind of which I often partook as a child and even as a grown-up.

Figs have an interesting story behind them. As fig of the genus ficus is translated as "sūkon/syco" in greek, it was the proud export of the land of Attica, the broader land around the city state of Athens. In light of the trade significance of figs, which were prized all around the ancient world for their nourishing and medicinal properties, it was forbidden to pluck them out without licence or to trade them. However, human nature being what it is throughtout the millenia, there were still people who broke the law and took figs, especially from the holy fig trees beside temples, which bore a copious crop. Pretty soon there were people who took it as their task to report those violators, the informers or "sycophantes", deriving from sūkon phainein, to show a fig (sūkon, fig + phainein, to show). Of course, noble as the reporting was at the start, it soon transpired that it might bear a wonderful chance to carry out personal vendettas between enemies: if one hated someone else and had a grudge against them, what easier way to instill harm than to report them as stealing the figs from the trees? And this is where the whole "dicanic" tradition of ancient greece is based on, but this is perhaps the subject of another post.
In Latin times, the word lost its initial meaning, gaining the mantle of "a servile self-seeker who attempts to win favor by flattering influential people" according to Webster's. And thus it entered the english language. Ah, but the fig had its revenge here at last. And what an influential fruit it has been, being also mentioned in the Gospels (mentioned here in reference to Holy Monday) and the proverbial garb of the modest in Paradise.

The creaminess of the initial opening in A la Figue is redolent of the milky sap of actual fig fruit, the way they are a little unripe at first, sqeezed to produce a whitish milk juice that is a skin irritant (you have been warned!). Very soon, the greeness of notes that give an air of leaves and the bark enter, underscored all the while by the slightly vanillic coconut hint of the fruit peel and compliment the whole with their earthy aroma of wood and earth that reminds one of the might fig trees swaying in the wind. In this aspect it is quite close to Premier Figuier, perhaps a little more coconuty. It lasts on the skin sensually with an earthy quality that is classy and succulent and I can see it as great supplement to a summer wardrobe for people who love woody and creamy smells. A wonderful new addition!


Pic of coconut courtesy of oriflame.com, figs by DWSPL/T.Scott from dwpicture.com/au

Michael Kors Island Hawaii: fragrance review

"Pack your bags chicka and let’s get to the tropics!", shouts excitedly the dark haired beau with the bright polo shirt and the suave moves. "South Seas to be exact!" If the promise of a lei and tropical beaches of sugar spun sand and gigantic palm trees moving in the wind weaves a spell on your innermost hedonist and you associate summer pleasures with such paradises then get yourself prepared for a joyful journey to that destination with a prolonged sniff of Michael Kors Island Hawaii.
This is a variation of his more watery Island fragrance that was encased in an aqua bottle of the same heavy square-lined design and is accompanied by another edition called Island Fiji.

Michael Kors has been instrumental in one of the sartorial masterpieces of modern day cinema, for which I will be always grateful: the remake of “The Thomas Crown Affair” (and the original is right up there in my pantheon of pantheons). In it Renee Russo prances around in his prêt-a-porter with much aplomb, all flushed cheeks and coppery hair (it suited her to a T!) exhibiting the kind of clothes we would all want to wear and feel like a million bucks every single day of our existence. It was breathtaking and this is an Yves Saint Laurent enthusiast that is talking to you now. The artwork (since this “scam” is taking place in a gallery and not a bank this time around) didn’t hurt either. But the costumes on both protagonists are perfectly enhancing their enviable bodies. In one memorable scene Renee is going to the Caribbean on a spur of the moment thing, in which dressed in simply a vest and a sarong she looks stunning and oh-so-carefree. Wish I could wake up to look like that every day too!

From then on I paid some closer attention to Mr.Kors and his designs. His advice too with whom he was profuse it seems, garnering column inches in glossy mags such as Allure and In Style. I still remember his advice to always smile and always have a little subtle tan on (I do hope in those ultraviolet-menacing days he means the fake kind) and I figured “now there’s a man of summer mood!” (something which I am not; I mean “of summer mood” of course, in case it was vague…).
Anyway, it was even funnier still when that camp masterpiece of American satire in film “Zoolander” came up with what is the most ingenious caricature of designing to this day embodying both the personae of Gaultier and Kors into the personification of Mugatu/Will Ferell making for hilarious results.
Click here to see a sample:

Kors had my sympathy still.

And so when his perfumes came out and became available where I live I gave them the proper time of day.
His original Michael is a tuberose symphony that is heard loud and clear as if you put Wagner into the stereophonic installation of a big car with windows rolled down, coming up from streets ahead, loud bass swamping everything across its way. It was lovely, magnificent, but so potent that it had me seriously questioning whether anyone could sustain so much of a good thing.
His other creation Kors was featuring a port note that to my nose was very welcome and it shall be included in upcoming posts of a different nature altogether that pertain more to the sommelier than the parfumeur (hopefully I have thus intrigued you!).
And then came Island which to me was pleasant, but not too much note-worthy. A decant saw me through last summer and that was that.
Imagine my surprise when I saw the very same bottle encased in bright vermillon on the shelves of Sephora tagged Island Hawaii. The brightness of the colour was beckoning like a light in the sea. A sign of coming to it or to avoid it? The doubt is only really answered when one sniffs and then lives to tell the tale.
And so I did.

The initial burst of very tart and sweet fruits in the guise of clementines and oranges was irresistible and although these are fruits that do not pass my lips in any shape or form I do enjoy smelling their delicious rind aroma in perfumes. It was mouthwatering and despite the much despised “fruity” tag they captured my attention right away.
Right after this a phase of slight soapiness segues in milled in jasmine and neroli which exude a lovely latheriness like emerging sprite-like from a blue lagoon of crystal clear waters. Hydroponic pineapple is a fancy word for a watery synthesized pineapple note that is not too apparent to my nose (certainly not like in Maitre Parfumer et Gantier’s Bahiana) but the lusciousness of the juicy fruit is continuing madly seducing me into getting a frilly cocktail with little paper umbrellas (so not me, the straight vodka and red wine consuming type I could scream!). Yet it is indeed lovely and I can’t hide the fact. It carries the tropical flowers torch from Michael original scent but with much more playfulness and gusto.
As the scent dries down, it retains much of the orange tone of the original impression with jasmine overlays that are married to a little amber that accounts for warmth and nice longevity on the skin.

In comparison Island Fiji is much closer to the plainly named aqua Island and to my nose a tad inferior. But if bent you need to test for yourself to ascertain.


The press release has this to offer:
"Developed jointly by International Flavors & Fragrances and Trudi Loren, vice president of corporate fragrance development worldwide for Aramis and Designer Fragrances, the fragrance breaks down as follows:

TOP NOTES: clementine, juicy orange, hydroponic pineapple & neroli
HEART: orange flower, jasmine sambac & Hawaiian ginger lily
DRYDOWN: white amber, creamy sandalwood & balsamic notes"

I am so getting a bottle of this!

Available at major department stores and Sephora (60$ for 1.7oz/50ml)

Artwork Hawaiian Pin Up girl 1949 by Al Moore courtesy of allposters.com
Bottle pic from Kors advertising campaign.
Clip uploaded by LPAS