Twin Peaks: Korres Pure Cotton & Prada Infusion d'Iris

Do you associate iris the fragrance note with pure cotton? You should. Today's comparison involves two fragrances which share the same olfactory core in a language that has become Morse code for comfort, effortless elegance and sophisticated grooming.

Back in the 1970s and 1980s the scent of "groomed female" involved some floral aldehydic fragrance with the powerful blanched aspect of something termed White Linen (and we will revert to that) or First by Van Cleef & Arpels (or even Chanel No.5 for the purists), while still topping everything with the garland of sweet ladylike flowers. It probably involved matching ensembles, genuine supple kid skin leather goods and a 18K gold trinity ring by Cartier.
Our Millenial rotation has dispensed with the niceties and the romantic semiotics of flowers (especially since the metrosexual male partook in female ritual) and appreciates the "clean" "dry" feel minus the glamour and the hard cash. Enter the iris and white musk brigade that has been hammering down our collective nose door for a full on decade as the new code for "groomed".

via Korres Instagram

The "cotton" mention is thus explained; the former hot iron on a starched linen shirt coming from aldehydes is now smothered into the downy soft fabric softener feel of irones on freshly laundered cotton sheets (irones form the main constituent in the scent of iris/orris). You can casually stroll any super-market aisle and pick up any product in the body products range or even the laundry detergents/fabric softeners; "cotton" is code for lots of irones and white musks. Case in point? Carrefour's Cotton shower gel, for one.

Infusion d'Iris doesn't smell particularly iris-y. truth be told. That is, it's not the starchy pasta-and-sourdough feel one gets from orris, the dried rhizome "resinous" extraction coming after macerating the roots, even though the perfume's whole marketing standpoint stresses that technique ("infusion" etc. though if you notice, in the "list" of "ingredients" on the packaging iris/orris isn't mentioned). It's a powerfully woody resinous "clean" smelling entity with formidable attributes that do not proclaim their presence.  Benzoin, cedar notes and a hint of incense resin give warmth-coolness contrasts and copious tenacity and I suspect musk does too. This is also what I smell from the Korres Pure Cotton fragrance and the scratchy (but in a good way) lily of the valley aromachemical that signifies "I feel pretty, oh so pretty".

Beyond perfumery tropes, nevertheless, there is a very practical, tangible reason why Perfume Shrine's smell-alike perfumes articles, Twin Peaks, are so popular and this post is one such case. The full effect of the well-established best-seller by Prada comes at the fraction of the price in the newer incarnation by Korres! In fact Korres is probably playing on one of their older eaux de toilette, Iris Lily of the Valley Cotton. 

If you have been following our blog for years, you surely recall our dinosaur-worthy article of how much perfume actually costs. The internet has since erupted on similar breakdowns of cost vs. retail price, but beyond the pure logistics, any dedicated fan will tell you you're paying not for the raw materials but for the expertise, the know how, the tradition, the beautiful aesthetics...in the end for the sheer experience. (And that's why if you haven't read The Aesthetic Principle you really should). Price is irrelevant if you truly love what you get.

from the Wallpaper "Clean Slate" editorial featuring Korres products, via Korres Instagram

And yet, how do you explain two perfumes that are so close in scent that opting for one when having your eyes closed wouldn't produce a micro-grimace (lips falling down on one side, eyes rolling up) of distrustful apprehension?  Of course lots of other brands and companies have cottoned on (can't help the pun) to the success of the Prada Infusion d'Iris, not least Prada itself (mainly with their Infusion d'Homme). Chanel for one seems to have revitalized the No.19 perfume stable with Chanel No.19 Poudre, a scent which smells more like something from Prada (a soap devised by Prada) than traditional Chanel (a soap referencing Chanel)...and feel free to call me reductionist if you like, since I'm sorta sacrilegiously "reducing" both to soap. (Though soap is hard business to get right). And I'm coming round to the beginning of my parsing treatise; it's probably Dove and their classic soap scent which has inspired this whole genre. Something fluffy, soft, powdery and full of irones, lily of the valley, orange flower and white musks.

Fragrantica categorizes Korres Pure Cotton (part of the newly launched Eau de Cologne range) into the "aromatic spicy" fragrances and gives (the official) notes of mandarin orange (on top), iris (in the heart) and amber (in the base). It is an eau de cologne edition in a biggish bottle in the familiar elegant Korres aesthetics with a matte black rubber spraying mechanism. It smells and performs exactly the same as Prada's original Infusion d'Iris eau de parfum. Perfumephiles on a budget, rejoice!

An Iris Problem: How to Build One

I got a most interesting mail the other day: Someone who is clearly very much a perfume lover and whom I knew before through the blog was asking me what I thought was a perfumer's perfect way to build a masterful iris. It surprised me because I am not a perfumer myself, but intrigued my nerdy tendencies enough to devote a post to it.
I have to put a disclaimer here that the post will feature some chemistry and might be perhaps a little boring for those of you who'd rather read ethereally poetic reviews about fragrances or some comedic spoof take on popular trends. But despite all that and knowing it won't be too popular, I thought it was worth addressing and I promise I will try to state it as simply as possible and even include a small index at the bottom for your ease.

Our reader has been reading what many of you have too: The Emperor of Scent by Chandler Burr, Luca Turin's Secret of Scent and Perfumes, the Guide, many online perfume blogs and boards...the works! Based on that and some knowledge of chemistry on the reader's part, those are the questions posed:

"I know α-n-methyl ionone (aka Givaudan's Raldeine A) was the chief component featured in Iris Gris. I also remember that one also needs irones; they are crucial, since it's this group of compounds that give orris its distinctive aroma.
Now, problem number one: which irone isomer(s) {1} should one use? I know orris emits at least three irones: cis-gamma, cis-alpha, trans-alpha irones. Octavian mentioned alpha irone in his Iris Gris entry (didn't mention which enantiomer {2} was used in Iris Gris). So what would be your pick? Is there a commercial blend, say, from IFF, that produces a good irone bouquet?
Then there are the interesting molecules....I remember Chandler Burr mentioning something about methyl ionones, which is a bit confusing since I assume ionones must have a methyl group stuck with them as well. Is this necessary? In addition, Dr. Luca Turin also talked about Maurice Roucel's ingenious use of Irival (produced by IFF), a nitrile{3} that gives Iris Silver Mist it's interesting quality. Now I'm lost..."

The question is interesting because it goes to the heart of the matter: in order to build a solid, good, true iris, where should the perfumer look?

To my understanding, irones are higher analogues of ionones, because they contain an additional methyl group in the cyclohexane group.
Although irones are indeed present in natural orris, it seems that production of a-irone has become standard, starting from a-pinene via the Caroll re-arrangement. [Basically the schema is going like this for anyone taking notes: A-pinene goes through decarbonylation, gives methyl trimethulcyclobutyl ketone, they add acetylene, there goes the Caroll re-arrangement, we get (trimethylcyclobutyl) heptadienone, pyrolysis is induced, giving methylated ψ-ionone and through cyclization this gives α-irone.]
Let me at this point clarify regarding the Greek letters (α: alpha, β: beta, γ: gamma) in the nomenclature of irones (as well as ionones and damascones) that they refer to the position of the double bond after the ring closure, while n- and iso- to the position of the alkyl group (assuming something other than acetone is used in condesation).

I suspect this ease of production is the reason why we have been flooded with iris fragrances the last couple of years: like Octavian pointed out, it has become easy to synthesize, not to mention it is a great marketability tool in a milieu which thrives on semi-info (the perfume lover usually knows that iris is the most expensive natural ingredient). Two birds in one shot!

But wait: what was that interesting molecule that Chandler Burr was referenced to mention? It must be a-iso-methylionone which had been erroneously mentioned as γ-irone in some old texts. At least, I suppose so... Therefore another irone, used to produce an iris effect.

Concerning Iris Silver Mist and Irival, let me set this straight. The info is not that Irival gives the fragrance its very specific iris scent (I just checked Luca's book before I typed this), but that it has been used in conjunction with other things to produce the ethereal, sad and grey rooty effect that we smell in Iris Silver Mist. Maurice Roucel, the perfumer behind it, used every ingredient he had acess to that had an iris descriptor attached to it, prompted by Lutens who urged him to produce an iris to the max.
There are possibly myriads of ingredients that have an iris descriptor attached to them (meaning they have some nuance of iris in their odour profile); if one reads lists of ingredients one sees that. To reference an example: Like we say that oudh has a musty woody but also nutty nuance when we smell it, the same applies for other ingredients, some complex like natural essences and some less so like single molecules. Roucel probably used all the ones available to him at the time and in the company he was working with.

Basically what I have concluded is that there is no single molecule that alone could account for a sublime effect on any perfume, be it an iris one, a certain jasmine effect or the surreal ones such as those based on dusty lamp and linen drying in the wind notes. Although we're often made to think that chemists discover magical aromachemicals/single molecules (and they do) which in bullet-form could almost fuel a rocket, to bring an analogy, I think that it has to do with context as well. The interaction of different ingredients with each other accounts for many pleasurable and not so pleasurable sensations and therein lies the artistry of perfumery. Rose and patchouly for instance do wonderful things to one another, which is probably why they are often combined. But with what different effects: smell Voleur de Roses side by side with Aromatics Elixir. The result is dissimilar. They are both based on this accord, but they go in different directions from there. Otherwise every chemist would be a perfumer! It takes however something more than that to become the latter.

The secret of producing a masterpiece iris -or anything else for that matter- lies in the artistry of the formula and the sleight of hand of its creator.

Index:
{1}.Isomers are compounds with the same molecular formula but different structural formulae.
{2}.Enantiomers, like their Greek etymology alludes to, are stereoisomers which have a mirror image of each other, much like one's own hands (the same, but somehow opposite).
{3}.A nitrile is any organic compound which has a -C≡N functional group (that is a carbon and a trible bonded nitrogen).

Pic of perfumer Alberto Morillas courtesy of Basenotes.net