Balenciaga Cialenga: fragrance review & history

Some women float over the floor rather than walk on it. There's a sweeping elegance and drama about them that you almost think all motion stops when they pass under the doorframe. Cialenga by Balenciaga is like that: Classically beautiful, aloofly superior, it's arresting and mysterious, but never going for outright wiles of seduction. This isn't a hearty blonde to laught out loud at your joke, but an icy cool Hitchockian heroine. Possibly with thick arched brows and a grey suit, besides a shady past, to show. Don't let the smile fool you...

History
Cialenga was launched by Balenciaga in 1973, composed by perfumer Jacques Jantzen. The name is rather cryptic; his only other known credential is collaboration on another Balenciaga perfume, Ho Hang for men (1971). But his history spans decades of shrouded work: His is Helena Rubinstein's 1946 Command Performance. 
The green chypres with floral hearts signified a more assertive and sophisticated angularity than the curvier lactonic florals of the 1950s and early 1960s and ushered in the new woman, the one who worked, took the pill and wore the pants. The dry, somewhat acrid quality of this genre is expressed in a dark manner in Cialenga, manifesting itself as among the more noir of the lot with a balance of green, spice and wood, just like a well judged cocktail of Martini wits, kinky sex references and sharply-cut tailleurs.

Comparison with Other Fragrances & Scent Description
The most apt comparison of Cialenga with any well-known perfume would be with vintage No.19 by Chanel. The way No.19 used to be, before being somewhat declawed. In Cialenga the green harmony is more aldehydic (recalling that segment from Paco Rabanne's Calandre) and soapy, while the overall character is decidely mustier than the Chanel and with quite a bit of spice added (clove and coriander prominently to my nose). The jasmine takes on a nuance between creamy and soapy, with no sugar floralcy as in more familiar sketches of floral chypres; the aldehydes do not take center stage.
The angularity of the green notes recalls the top note of Vent Vert in the vintage parfum (so full of galbanum), while the spicy warmth with an added myrrh tonality is all dark corners of a Spanish monastery in the New World and dangerous brunettes turned blondes with a death wish.

The familiar sophisticated refinement of Balenciaga perfumes (I'm referring to the vintages, though the modern Balenciaga Paris and L'Essence aren't half bad) is there all right in Cialenga. Think of Michelle, that ultra aloof tuberose parfum by the same Spanish designer or La Fuite des Heures! Being highly in tune with its times, Cialenga vaguely recalls other fragrances in the genre of a similar retro time-frame: Y by Yves Saint Laurent, Coriandre by Jean Couturier, the first Jean Louis Scherrer. The citrusy and black-currant segment might even recall the refreshing facets of Amazone.

Availability 

A little goes a long way and it's trailing at least down the elevator doors, so a small quantity should last you a long time; good thing, as Cialegna, like all vintage Balenciaga perfumes, is discontinued and nowadays quite rare.  Few specimens crop up on ebay from time to time.

Notes for Balenciaga Cialenga:
Top: citrus, black currant,green notes
Heart: iris, jasmine, ylang-ylang, clove, tincture of rose and lily
Base: vetiver, sandalwood, patchouli, oakmoss and Virginia cedar.

photo still of Kim Novak in Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo via the ace black blog 

This review is dedicated to Armani/Michael who introduced me to this fragrance and who had a thing for Kim Novak's brows in Vertigo :-)

Amouage Gold for women: fragrance review

Someone famous in the music scene, with whom we've been emailing, has mentioned Amouage Gold as the fragrance fit for an Oscars night. Not just wearing it in the audience, trying to steady one's shaky hands by resting them on the posh couture gown, but presenting. There just isn't any stage fright or wavering about Gold; it wears itself like a grande-dame, assured, polished, dramatic. This is a regal fragrance for a cool blonde of another era.

History
Amouage, the Omani firm who cater for the Omani royalty and those with a taste for French fragrance structures in Middle Eastern settings, went out of their way to make Gold, their first fragrance, sumptuous and fit for a queen; not a princess. Top perfumer was ushered in (Guy Robert, who gave us Equipage, among the most perfect men's scents, and the once wonderful Dioressence which my own mother so loved); the best ingredients were specifically harvested; no budget restrictions were made whatsoever; no focus groups. You'd have to envy the lucky perfumer who worked thus unrestrained. The year was 1983. At the time Amouage didn't benefit from the creative direction it has nowadays and the fragrance circulated simple as Amouage for women. Robert considered it the crowning glory of his career and characterises its dramatic progression as "symphony".

Fragrance Description & Classification
You might have witnessed Amouage Gold for women uttered in the same breath as Chanel No.5. As you would expect, given Guy Robert's credentials (he's the creator of Madame Rochas and Hermès Calèche) and the general mad rush Middle East has for Chanel (they're mad about Chanel), this isn't far off the truth. Yes, Gold is an aldehydic floral, in the general ballpark of No.5, a tad heavy-hitting and old-school (in a good way), lush, opulent and very luxurious, which uses traditional Omani ingredients re-adjusted in a classic French blueprint. If I were to be more specific, I'd say that Gold for women more resembles the hypothetical child of Lanvin's My Sin (long discontinued) and Houbigant's Quelques Fleurs (now sadly reformulated).
But if you only know Robert's famous aldehydics I mentioned, you get an idea of how Gold smells: I need to stress that in order to like it, you have to like fragrances in the floral aldehydic family (refer to this article to see what aldehydes are and here for reviews of aldehydic fragrances). And you might be questioning why splurge (50ml/1.7oz will set you back 285$) on a bottle when there are other things smelling like it. Good question! But somehow God is in the details and Gold appears richer, more opulent than any of them. This thing radiates off skin for hours and hours on end, it just won't go away; a bottle will probably last you more than any of us is expected to make it in sane mind.

The Omani materials used enjoy a rich heritage: "Today, as in ancient times, the precious resin from the very ordinary looking frankincense tree is harvested carefully by hand, by a select caste of tribal herders. The frankincense trees that line the Dhofar landscape in Salalah are protected and the mysterious allure of their scent is blended with a host of precious natural oils and essences to form the unmatched perfume that is Amouage. The essence of an incredibly rare variety of rose called the Omani Rock Rose is extracted and also used in 'Gold Amouage.' This special variety of rose grows and flowers for the briefest period each year on the slopes of the remote Jebel Al Akhder mountains of Oman. Myrrh, another core ingredient in Amouage is also from the Jebel Al Akhder region." [source]

The start of Amouage Gold for women is all powdery-soapy floral, much like the archetypal aldehydics of yore; golden honey limbs, falling on a dozen silk cushions. There's a clean vibe with lily-of-the-valley green floralcy, while at the same time you're miles away from the modern "clean" scents of laundry detergent & fabric softener. The fruity aspects are intergrained like brushstrokes in an impressionist painting; from a little distance it all mingles into a composition rather than individual shapes.The floral part is built on the intense chord of jasmine & ylang ylang that we also find in Chanel No.5, boosted by rose and a tiny touch of tuberose; in fact this floral chord most reminds me of Patou's classic Joy, though the whole composition does not. The natural floral, velvety sweetness is complimented by a dab of creaminess, provided -from what I can smell- from a little vanilla and sandalwood. The creamy aspect is what makes Gold so lush, so nectarous, so very sinful.
As the fragrance dries down, you're suddenly face to face with the revelation that the core structure is really that of a graceful woody floral with oriental elements: the scent becomes noticeably woody, with a downy, elegant polish that is clean and smoothed out on notes of lightly astrigent frankincense and myrrh with no smoke whatsoever and the enduring note of (rich and -again- similar to the old parfum edition in No.5) musk.The lasting power and sillage are phenomenal.

Notes for Amouage Gold for women:
Top: lime, apricot, peach, lily-of-the-valley, neroli.
Heart notes: rose, jasmine, silver frankincense, myrrh, rock rose flower, patchouli, orris, cedarwood and sandalwood.
Base notes: ambergris, civet and musk.

Concentrations Available & Shopping
Amouage Gold currently circulates as Eau de Parfum (which is plenty really!) and extrait de parfum. Older versions included an Eau de Toilette. I find the EDP the most pleasing form.
There is also a men's Amouage Gold version, which leans into the woody musk category rather than aldehydic, even though stating almost the same ingredients.

Stockists include the Omani Amouage boutique, the boutique in London and online such as at Luckyscent.
Check the official site at Amouage.com

pic of Anita Ekberg

Guerlain Cuir de Russie: fragrance review of a rare vintage

The Russian Leather theme (termed Cuir de Russie due to the invasion of the Francophones into the Russian diplomacy) was very popular at the end of the 19th century. (Refer to our article Cuir de Russie vs. Peau d'Espagne for history and differences between leather themes). Tanning de facto involved less than pleasant smells and tradition in many countries was to further aromatize the end product with fragrant essences to hide the manufacturing process off notes: In Italy they used frangipani (hence gants frangipani), in Spain camphor and ambergris, in France orange blossom, violet, iris and musk were the usual essences prefered. Legend has it that Cuir de Russie as a scentscape was randomly born when a Cossack warrior, galloping across the endless Russian steppe, came up with ‘the idea of rubbing his leather boots with birch bark in order to waterproof them’. Russians tanned their leathers with willows and poplars, as these are common species in the vast steppes. The finishing off involved birch bark oil, which when "cooked" in large pans over an open fire gives a very distinctive odour profile. This is roughly what we have come to describe as "Russian Leather" in perfumery.

This commonplace, rural idea gave rise to perfumes termed Cuir de Russie indeed by L.T Piver, Vonna, Godet, Figuenet, even 4711 or the Russian Leather by Davlin (but forget about Caron's famous Tabac Blond: that one was conceptually different), to results that would capture the imagination of perfumers for the better part of the early 20th century. The most popular and well-known incarnation is undoubtedly Chanel's Cuir de Russie (1924), but Guerlain took the idea and flew with it almost exactly 50 years prior to Coco (in 1875), producing one of the first documented Cuir de Russie fragrance types.

Chanel was inspired by the popularity of Les Ballets Russes in the 1920s and her affair with Russian Grand Duke Dimitri Pavlovich; Guerlain and their perfumer Aimé Guerlain by the military grandeur of all the Russias. At the 1870s Russia was in a pre-revolutionary turmoil, its population booming beyond any expectation (its peasants comprising four fifths of that sum), its military always feared whenever they intervened southerner of their Azov and Don border. Tolstoy was writing Anna Karenina (and publishing in instalments in The Russian Messenger) and War and Peace; both significantly involving military men in the plot. If the French had learned one thing through the recent Franco-Prussian War it was the necessity of building a modern army. Military themes were into the back of people's minds throughout Europe. And, irony of ironies, while the rest of Europe was paying attention to the much needed modernisation proceedings in Imperial Russia, the emerging clan of the Slavophiles was hard at thought on how to return to a simple peasant life!

With this historical  flashback in my mind, I was lucky enough to get some  of the preciously rare old Guerlain perfume through the dedication of an Austrian collector and the fragrance seems to me as the spermatic idea of the leathery backdrop to the quinolines of Guerlain's most classic scent, Shalimar. In fact what I smell is like a cross between Cuir de Russie by Chanel (elegant floralcy upon leather backdrop) and Jicky or Shalimar's drydown (smooth, suede-like, tactile feel, a little smoky).
Even though Cuir de Russie by Guerlain is initially properly bitterish with what seems like herbs, galbanum and oakmoss, with a smoky aspect and not too much tar, the progression veers into a much more supple finish superbly poised between masculine and feminine. The opening notes are folded into the spicy (like carnations), leathery, bitter-almonds facets of styrax resin ~and maybe a hint of the sweetness of Peru balsam as well.
The heart is fanned on jasmine (boosted and "opened" by animalic civet, possibly) and the intermingling with leather is delicious and lush: what I see through Guerlain's Cuir de Russie are purple suede gloves gathering Indian blossoms in the cool evening breeze; a warm wrap upon naked shoulders brushing off long, chandelier earrings while sitting at the dacha; the feel of a firm gloved caress rather than the crack of a military whip...

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: Guerlain series (reviews of Guerlain perfumes), Leather series (reviews, production & history of leather fragrances)

Visit Mr.Guerlain for great photos of Guerlain bottles
Painting On the Turf by Russian painter Ilya Repin

Elie Saab Le Parfum: fragrance review

It's hard to pronounce judgement on something that intrisically draws you in, yet you find that it repeats motifs known from a previous incarnation losing points for originality in the process.  
Elie Saab Le Parfum, though no match for the glorious haute-couture gowns that are the stuff of dreams, is nevertheless a very alluring, beautiful floral with honeyed notes, standing proudly in the mainstream market, intending not to leave anyone displeased. The fact that acclaimed perfumer Francis Kurkdjian pulls another well-known trick from his elegant sleeve is of secondary importance for our purposes, questioning structure and innovation vs appeal and end result as we are; consumers go for the latter, critics for the former.

Francis Kurkdjian places a small facet of his beloved zafting, retro roses (Rose Barbare, Lady Vengeance, Enlevement au Serail, Ferre Rose) in a composition that is all about the white flowers: jasmine and in a more abstract, fleeting way orange blossom (similar to that reserved for Fleur du Mâle, Narciso for Her ). Smelling Elie Saab Le Parfum in the middle of winter is like a ray of longed for sunshine, summer evening romance and late afternoon trysts spent on white linen sheets on the hush in rooms bursting with flower bouquets.
It's elegant, lush, quite sweet after the initial orange blossom/neroli "cologne" top note dissipates (and sweeter on skin than on clothes or blotter) with a posh impression that radiates for miles with the discernible headiness of jasmine; a not really indolic jasmine, nor particularly candied, but lush, creamy and sensual all the same. Elie Saab is a fragrance to be noticed and to be noticed in, smelling expensive, especially for a mainstream release, which also lasts quite well. The woodiness is mingled as an austere, cleaned up layer that lingers on skin similarly to woody floral musks fragrances (Narciso and its ilk; the clean patchouli, non powdery rose & honeyed warmth accord is repeated down pat).
Kurkdjian takes segments out of his collective opus and re-arranges it like a talented maestro playing a biz potpouri of his greatest hits. Can't blame him; it works.

The first fragrance from the Lebanese haute couture designer is simply called Le Parfum and the composition allegedly took 279 trial versions, resulting in a very femme fragrance, very floral, lightly woody. Those who like Marc Jacobs Blush in theory for the modern take on white flowers, but always wanted more oomph out of it, might find here their ideal rendition. Those who love the lushness yet contemporary feel of Kurkdjian's own label Absolue pour le Soir but wince at the price tag, could find in Elie Saab a more budget-friendly choice. Last but not least, those who lamented the demise of perhaps the single worthwhile Armani perfume, Sensi, are advised to seek out Le Parfum as something in the same ballpark; immediately appealing, non fussy, instant prettifier.

Men are almost certain to find this too feminine for their tastes, though the adventurous can always try.

Notes for Elie Saab Le Parfum: orange blossom, jasmine (including Grandiflorum and Sambac), cedar, patchouli and rose honey accord.

The simple glass bottle, heavy and pleasingly solid, was designed by Syvie de France. The campaign features the famous model Anja Rubik. Le Parfum is available in 30ml/1oz, 50ml/1.7oz and 90ml/3oz of  Eau de Parfum concentration with ancilary products to match (perfumed deodorant, body lotion, body cream and shower gel). Available at major department stores.

Painting Spring by Greek painter Georgios Jacobidis.

JoAnne Bassett Enchant Parfum: a Brave New Scent review

When autumn and winter weather takes its toll, there is a not so perverse pleasure into getting out the lush florals and the green scents from behind the screen and the books, and in pretending it's late spring all over again. In that frame of mind I spent this past weekend re-testing Enchant Parfum by all-naturals artisanal perfumer JoAnne Bassett.

Enchant was part of the Brave New Scents Project of the Natural Perfumers Guild, which we tackled here on Perfume Shrine a while ago. The perfumer claims to have composed this in a sort of epiphany, or rather "the poetry guided me into what to choose" (A.Huxley was the inspiration behind the project), but I think composing a fragrance with such contrasting notes takes more than just random luck. The happy scent of Enchant reminds me of JoAnne's favourite quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson: “ Happiness is a perfume you cannot pour on others without getting a few drops on yourself. ”. It's no wonder she's residing at Cardiff by the Sea in California. The sunny skies and the lush surroundings around her can't but inspire an embracement of nature, even as she focuses on French-inspired scents with accompanying names recently, like Versailles, Madame Pompadour, Petit Trianon, Marie Antoinette, Josephine, Napoleon and Malmaison...

Enchant is full of zesty aromas, natural lavender with its camphoraceous top note, very lush rose and jasmine on a bed of hypnotic florals. It oscillates between a sweetish, liqueur-like character (thanks to both rose and davana) and woody camphor, which makes it...well, interesting! It's difficult to classify conventionaly, as I smell both herbal/aromatic and floriental elements in it at the same time; it's quite complex, though it's clear we're talking about a unified composition, not a thing that breaks apart on the blotter within minutes (the bane of several artisanal perfumes). Like I said, I get mostly the camphoraceous-spicy scents (basil, lavender, patchouli), the woody murky (lots of vetiver to my nose) and the floral (lots of rose coupling with pink pepper that compliments it, champaca which is sweeter and jasmine which is extra sweet). This collage gives an uplifting effect, optimistic, and I admit that I didn't expect lavender to give me such apositive reaction: usually I find it either too fake (more vanilla than lavender, as in many functional products or "soothing" products) or straight-out medicinal out of the straight essential oils aromatherapy shelf. Here it's neither, hallelujah!
JoAnne talks a lot about how she gave a spiritual twist by choosing the oils and essences that go into it, but I find Enchant Parfum smells good no matter if you're into getting yourself in a pretzel-shape and humming Ommmm as your mantra or not; it just works!

Enchant is parfum concentration (36% compound) and it shows in its projection and tenacity. The photo on top depicts a limited edition crystal blown flacon for the parfum; I absolutely adore this photo taken by JoAnne Bassett herself and the presentation (notice those tiny bubbles)!

Notes for Enchant Parfum by JoAnne Bassett:
Rose de Mai absolute – the May Rose, expensive and rare oud or agarwood, sandalwood, exotic and costly osmanthus, sacred champaca and holy basil, yuzu, orange esences, butter co2, musky ambrette seed, davana, pink pepper tree, and high altitude lavender, the green note of galbanum, sensual jasmine auriculatum, copaiba balsam, vanilla tincture, and the dark and rich ruh khus vetiver, and dark patchouli in an organic jojoba oil base.

According to the perfumer, the oils that correspond to the Huxley quote are:

I want God: holy basil, oud, champaca,
I want poetry: osmanthus,
I want danger: vetiver, patchouli,
I want freedom: orange essences, yuzu,
I want goodness: rose, jasmine,
I want sin: ambrette seed
  
For more info, please visit the JoAnne Bassett site. 
You can also visit her blogs: Aromatic Journeys and JoAnne Bassett

Top photo by JoAnne Bassett, used with permission. Bottom photo by Margot Carrera

Aqua di Parma Gelsomino Nobile: fragrance review & bottle giveaway

First things first: I have a brand new bottle of the to-be-launched Gelsomino Nobile for a lucky reader, from which only a 5ml decant is missing for reviewing purposes. To be eligible, all you have to do is answer to these questions: 1)What do you find pleasurable/helpful in a frag review? 2)What are the subjects on our pages you would like to read more of? Now on to reviewing this upcoming Aqua di Parma fragrance focused on jasmine...

Gelsomino Nobile (Noble Jasmine) by Aqua di Parma belongs to the Le Nobili sub-collection: 3 women’s fragrances, all in eau de parfum concentration, with a secondary Eau de Toilette for Iris Nobile. The “Nobili” are therefore Iris Nobile, Magnolia Nobile, and the new Gelsomino Nobile. Much in tune with its sister scents, Gelsomino Nobile is also an ethereal, refined, greenish rhapsody in melodious Italian, which could be worn by lovers of all things airy and romantic who want to remain chic and effortless at all times.

The scent of Gelsomino Nobile starts on exhilarating citrusy accents with a peppery bite, much like natural bergamot and the more green neroli distillation from the orange blossom (although neither is listed in the notes), soon accompanied by sweeter elements. The vista opens into a grove of fragrant white vines, dewy jasmine (non indolic), a smidge of the greener parts of tuberose (and none of the danger), and what seems like a clean freesia accord. Although freesia accords can project as screechy and sterile sometimes, the rendering here is subdued: One gets the (illusory) waft of a budding flower, rather than the intense pong of profuse aromachemicals. It's elegant, if predictable.
This stage remains poised for the rest of the duration on the skin, gaining polished nuances of clean, skin-compatible, expensive-feeling musks from one angle; a tad more austere green woodiness from another. I had written on Magnolia Nobile that "the woody musky base is also echoing in my ears like speakers in the car left on some news-relating channel in a sub-human frequency that can be felt more than heard" and I can sense the continuation here as well. Lovers of the Nobili line by Aqua di Parma should be pleased. It's not exactly my speed, but then you know I'm a die-hard indolic jasmine lover, don't you.
The overall effect is recognisably a jasmine fragrance without, at the same time, appearing as suffocating floral or intensely projecting even though Gelsomino Nobile possesses both good lasting power and pleasurable sillage. For that reason jasminophobes or those who do not want to offend may have just found their perfect green floral for all occasions where intermingling might make a more voluptuous, more combustible white floral a bit de trop.

According to the ad copy, as announced on Perfume Shrine a while ago: "Centered around an exclusive and highly unique species of Jasmine grown only in the Calabria region of Italy, this new Floral Green-Musk style of eau de parfum creates the sensation of walking through lush Italian gardens, in bloom with Jasmine, while the breeze brings in the soft, salty air from the Mediterranean.

Notes for Aqua di Parma Gelsomino Nobile: mandarin, pink pepper, orange blossom, tuberose, Calabrian jasmine, cedar wood, and musk.

The fragrance has just debuted at Neiman Marcus and will be available worlwide in September. Available in Eau de Parfum 50ml ($108) and 100ml ($170) ml and matching body cream ($80 for 150 g).

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Jasmine Series

Painting: Eugene de Blaas, Young Italian Beauty

In the interests of full disclosure, the perfume was sampled through a promotion.

On Lubin's Black Jade: a Perfume Fit for Marie-Antoinette

Parfums Lubin has been a rekindled fragrance brand, after the old house was brought into new ownership some years ago, when the niche market first boomed around the mid 2000s. Engaging Olivia Giacobetti was the first step, issuing and re-issuing fragrances was the second, crucial one; from the legendary Gin Fizz and Idole to the modern Vetiver, as well as the recent crop of releases Bluff, Figaro, Itasca, Inedite. The latest Lubin fragrance release, named Black Jade, is based on Marie Antoinette's signature scent, created by royal nose Jean-Louis Fargeon and inspired by the doomed queen's beloved Trianon gardens in Versailles.  

Black Jade thus contains rose, jasmine, and bergamot, Marie-Antoinette's signature notes. The name for the new fragrance, Black Jade, was inspired by the lore that the queen carried the fragrance with her in a black jade bottle at all times, even when she was imprisoned in the Temple Tower of Paris. It was only before her beheading that she confided it to the Marquise de Tourzel, whose descendants are reportedly still in possession of the original flacon.

Lubin is no stranger to French history: Pierre François Lubin founded the company in 1798 when he began supplying scented ribbons, rice powderballs and masks to "Les Merveilleuses," socially exulted women who frequented Thermidorian drawing rooms of Napoleonic France; and the "Incroyables," members of the subculture that mixed fashion and propaganda which emerged following the terror that was the immediate aftermath of the French Revolution of 1789.

The 2011 edition of Lubin Black Jade has been launched by fragrance company Aedes de Venustas, the well-known niche perfumery which holds a special place in the heart of New York perfumistas. In addition to the original focus on rose, jasmine and bergamot, perfumer Thomas Fontaine infused Lubin's Black Jade 2011 version with galbanum, cardamom, incense, cinnamon, Indian sandalwood, patchouli, vanilla, tonka bean, and amber notes. It belongs to the chypre floral family of fragrances.

This is not the first attempt to recreate Marie Antoinette's scent however: Le Château de Versailles had hired Francis Kurkdjian to create the orange blossom-based M.A. Sillage de la Reine and L'Artisan Parfumeur was inspired for the jasmine-rich  La Haie Fleurie du Hameau, composed by renowned perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena , by the French queen's fated passion for beauty and flowers.

Jean Patou Joy: fragrance review

The archetypal example of a smooth, beautiful jasmine that could be worn sufficiently well without evoking particularly dark tendencies yet without being pointless is 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. According to perfumers' lore, the designer Jean Patou, side by side by doyenne of café society Maxwell, went to Alméras to find a new formula for a luxury perfume to be launched. But nothing really grabbed them and, exasperated, the legendary perfumer showed them something he thought unmarkeable anyway: a costly fusion of the noblest floral materials. They both became entranced at this and Joy joined the ranks of Patou scents in 1926 for the loyal customers, while made available widely four years later, at the throes of the Great Depression.

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 rose varieties: Damascene rose (Rosa Damascena) from Bulgaria and Rose de Mai (Rosa centifolia), the latter again from Grasse. The in-house nose for Patou since 1997 Jean Michel Duriez has monitored the fields and crops to ascertain that the end result rendered out of those two rose varieties meets the quality control criteria demanded by the house of Patou. Now that the Jean Patou house has left P&G hands (a company which didn't particularly care for luxury, it seems, judging by the lack of promotion they did for it), while Duriez stays behind, it's anyone's guess what happens; it remains to be seen whether Joy will be revamped, twisted or forgotten.

Whether the quality has gone downhill in recent batches, 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 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!).

At any rate, 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 and singing in a melody of thirds, 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. A grand dame  in a youthful setting, Joy smells translucent and at the same time durable and substantial.

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, as per Luca Turin. Given my proclivities for jasmine over rose, 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. The vintage specimens that display the best quality are the ones in the black snuff bottles (prior to 1990), while the rectangular ones with the gold edges are newer.

Shiseido Inoui: fragrance review, history & draw

Beware of the celebrity endorsement; it might get you in trouble hunting for rare, long lost treasures to the detriment of your wallet: The first time I became seriously intriguied by Inouï was upon reading an interview of Greek singer Anna Vissi, more than a dozen years ago, declaring her longing for a bottle of this discontinued Shiseido scent: "If anyone still got a bottle, I'm paying double for it". Makes a girl move earth and sky to find some, doesn't it! Inoui, or rather Inouï with the requisite umlaut, launched by Shiseido in 1976 and quickly vanished from the market in the late 1980s, its quirky name meaning unprecedented in the sense of stunningly gorgeous.

Stunningly gorgeous it might not be exactly, as I reserve this characterisation for truly seminal fragrances or those which exhibit a daring concordance of vision and orchestration, but the drops resting on my collarbone speak of its beauty in no uncertain terms: Inouï prettifies everything it touches, even though it belongs to the old-school austere, cool greens of the ilk of Chanel No.19, Alliage, Diorella, Calèche and Shiseido's own Koto which are crepuscularly silver, rarely breaking a smile, surely alien ~ in the letter of the law~ to my own warm-blooded, passionate Mediterranean nature.

There is nothing really warm or conventionally seductive about Inouï , the bitter galbanum resin and chilled alοof florals giving a Brechtian detachment, a sort of stoic Britannic phlegm even on the face of the gravest tragedy; or maybe -more plausibly- it's just the Japanese aesthetic of keeping one's cool and always appearing composed. At the time Shiseido was not yet in collaboration with Serge Lutens, the maestro who would bring Gallic passion to the Eastern refinement with Nombre Noir and all the rest of their collaborative opus, and suppposedly the company was meaning to break up with their oriental tradition at the same time, hence the name of the fragrance one would assume:

'An international product developed by the joint efforts of Shiseido staff in Japan, the U.S. and Italy, Inoui was introduced in 1976. Under the sales theme of the “New Working Woman,” the image was of a new woman with a cosmopolitan mind. She lived a beautiful lifestyle of jazz dance, yoga, jogging and other new activities of the time, while easily handling her work as well. “It's not her beauty. It's her lifestyle.” clearly expresses the concept behind the product.'

Thus ran the official blurb on the fragrance on the US site.Somehow it doesn't sound very fetching to me. I can think of better things. But times have changed; back then "modern" woman apparently dreamed about the "beautiful lifestyle of jazz dance, yoga, jogging and other new activities, while easily handling her work as well".

Yet history disproves this assertion of breaking with tradition: Saso and Myth of Saso, other Shiseido rarities, are unusual and unpliable with no "lifestyle" concept behind them, yet roughly contemporaries. But for every Saso there's a Koto; easy, breezy, refreshingly cool for active lives, so Shiseido is obviously consciously catering to a multitude of women and respective markets. Later on, the Japanese company launched a make-up line by the same name (and the follow-up, Inoui ID) which was put into stunning visuals by Lutens himself, the choreographing of the models an exercise in cobra mesmerising human eyes.

Inouï is a fragrance which, underneath the crashed stems and sap, lives and breathes in human form and yes, warms up somewhat with an exquisite jasmine heart, halfway between birth and rot, flanked by the pungent accent of herbal thyme, like a seasoned woman who knows what she wants and what she's capable of. This is why it feels at a crossroads between floral chypre and green floral; but Inoui is friendlier than angular No.19 by Chanel, soapier and sweeter than Alliage by Lauder and less BCBG than Hermès Calèche. It's so pretty, deep and undemanding that it poses a mystery on why it got axed so soon! Then again, might we recall the dire straits of Paco Rabanne's Calandre; who knew such an easy, loveable fragrance would become hard to get!
The opening accord in Shiseido Inouï is sap-like, crushed greens with a hint of soapy aldehydes and at the same time reminiscent of the lemon-peach top chord of classic Diorella: fresh, but registered an octave below, mossier. Soon the warmth of ripe jasmine anchors the peachy lactonic notes and gives oomph, fleshing the sketch of the greens and deepening the feminine impression. The impression of green floral sustains itself cuddled by a lightly mysterious base, like that in Y by Yves Saint Laurent, deepening as time passes, mingled perfectly in one unified chord, while its murmur is only audible to those who come close by.

Vintage batches (the only kind, really, since Inoui is long discontinued) crop up sometimes online, for really huge prices somewhat unjustifiably. Those which retain a fresh, green floral and a tad soapy note have kept well. If your catch smells sour, you've been out of luck: the perfume deteriorated through the years. There is an eau de parfum version and an extrait de parfum in sparse, architectural bottles, both worthy additions to a distinguished perfume collection.

Notes for Shiseido Inoui :
Top: Galbanum, Peach, Juniper, Lemon, Green Accord
Heart: Pine Needles, Freesia, Thyme, Jasmin
Base: Cedarwood, Myrrh, Musk, Civet, Oakmoss

Since it's such a rarity, one sample out of my own personal stash goes out to one lucky reader. Please comment on what appeals to this genre to qualify.

Amouage Honour Woman & Honour Man: fragrance reviews

I distinctly recall watching Cio-Cio San ritualistically commit suicide with her father's knife at the end scene of Madama Butterfly and thinking that despite the glorious music, the storyline lacked the tragic depths of Euripides's Medea, fresh in my mind from school. It was more simplistic too: one straight plot line, girl wins boy, girl loses boy, girl commits hara kiri. Surely, both heroines were cruelly abandonded by their foreign lovers for whom they sacrificed everything, but somehow taking one's life seemed to my childish eyes as an easy way out; eternally pining for the grave sin of filicide, uniting both tragic lovers & parents in pain, seemed vastly more weighty. But the Japanese notion of honour wanted it so and further exploration of Japonism acclimatized me with the idea in the end. Honour Woman and Honour Man, fragrances inspired ~as Christopher Chong revealed~ by the ending act of Puccini's Madama Butterfly, come as a stop at a multifarious course.

The prolific art director for Omani-based firm Amouage, C. Chong, is issuing perfume duos for some time now, having the best noses creating under his guidance: From the majestic Jubilation 25 for women and Jubilation XXV for men to the sweeping Epic for Men and Epic for Women, the rich fragrances have lured lovers of true luxury and superb raw materials creating something of a mini cult. Even when the skeleton is recognisable as belonging to a specific category met again, the fleshing out of the robust contours is impressive enough to warrant uniqueness.

In order to assess both Honour editions, it's essential to examine how they interpret the concept: Instead of playing out the scenario of Puccini's heroes in one's mind, it might be better to see the scents as a modern extention of a viewer who sees their shadows cast in the wings; oriental elements petering, but those are not reserved for the Far East, they also draw upon the Middle-Eastern tradition: incense, elemi resin, jasmine, the Spice Route, pepper worth its weight in gold and finally Indian tuberose...This amalgam of richness is woven into a tapestry that is not reminiscent of any one culture, yet stands on the edge between ancient, rich in resins & flower essences natural perfumery and the modern ethereal treatment that ensures fragrances remain contemporary as if fueled by electrified air.
Both Honour Woman and Honour Man are typically Amouage in their individual way, showcasing what natural oils can do to instil richness and depth in fragrance, possessing as they do a sort of 3D-expansion which reveals facets interlocking with each other in an olfactory Rubik's Cube.

Amouage Honour Woman, created by perfumers Alexandra Carlin and Violaine Collas, is galvanised by the power of pink jasmine, fruity, succulent and nectarous as if oozing sexy honey, floriental, womanly and seductive and yet light enough to be enjoyed during the summer. The bouquet reminded me of a less campy Vamp à NY, chokeful as that one is too of real, vibrant natural white flowers, hints of big Bazooka gum pieces laced with banana-fruit facets. Smelling Honour Woman on top, I'm struck by the swift progression from the peppery-camphoraceous green note which foreshadows tuberose (in reality spicy notes and that certain subtle root-beer touch which is so familiar to Americans) into the intensely sweet, fruity and upbeat jasmine heart that is all out nature red in tooth and claw. The white floral essences stimulate Honour Woman into a melodious cadenza that seems never ending, supremely lasting onto blotter, clothes, nostrils, soft skin, decolletage...And yet, the supporting of that floral sweetness by somber notes like green vetiver and serene incense makes Honour Woman a pliable, real femme who can yield under the power of love, rather than an hysterical madwoman who scatters her demands right and left. The success and beauty of Amouage Honour Woman lie in the balance of diva-esque characteristcs with the cool attitude of seeing the brightest morning light as the most natural thing in the world...which it is.

Notes for Amouage Honour Woman:
Top notes are coriander, pepper and rhuburb;
middle notes are carnation, jasmine, gardenia, tuberose and lily-of-the-valley;
base notes are vetiver, opoponax, amber, incense and leather.

Amouage Honour Man, composed by perfumer Nathalie Feisthauer is a decidedly spicy fragrance, with oriental-woody leanings. The intensity of its spicy top, a veritable plunge into the pepper shaker, is unsettling, grabbing you from both lapels and smacking down into submission. But oh, you want to discover what this tough story unfolds later on! Indeed, the pepper becomes almost oily, like the half smoky-half musty odour when you crack a mace, more than a tad resinous, thanks to elemi (a naturally pepper-like essence that compliments frankincense and enters into the blend of Eastern cencer incense mixes). The equally terpenic sides of this mix are soon embraced by the distinct green-rosy-camphor of geranium and blended woody notes of cedar, patchouli and vetiver, borrowing a slice of Amouage's Reflection. The cunning in Honour Man lies into presenting each note as a distinct pitch with sonorous timbre, yet also as unifying them into a chromatic scale that is heard like bass coming out from subwoofers in the larynx of some smoldering lion afar, coming closer and closer by the minute. In no way threatening, but impressive all the same, Honour Man should have lovers of Poivre Samarcande, Bang and Poivre 23 sniff appreciatively and try to unravel the complicated thread of its Eastern mythos for western men.

Notes for Amouage Honour Man:
Top notes are pink pepper and pepper;
middle notes are geranium, elemi and nutmeg;
base notes are vetiver, musk, patchouli, Virginia cedar, incense and tonka bean.

Eau de Parfum, 50ml for £120. Available at Harrods, Selfridges, Les Scenteurs and Amouage boutique, 14 Lowndes Street, SW1. Soon available stateside.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Amouage fragrance reviews and news

In the interests of full disclosure I tried the new scents via official samples sent by the company

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Jasminora: fragrance review

It's easy to be convinced that the later day Aqua Allegorias have been subpar: The history of the Aqua Allegoria line by Guerlain proves they were not always so, yet the fruity examples of the last few years have been steadily dwindling. Nevertheless, I really surprised myself with Jasminora, Guerlain's latest addition in the line: A fresh jasmine floral which should delight fans of the classic Diorissimo (due to the latter's hyperbole of lily of the valley flanked by the grace of jasmine), as well as the acolytes of Chanel Cristalle and Ormonde Jayne Tiare (due to the crackling effect of both scents' citrusy trompe-l'oeil atop the green floralcy). The Aqua Allegorias have firmly moved from fruity territory into florals (judging by Flora Nymphea and travel exclusives Bouquet No.1 & Bouquet No.2) and if this one is any indication, there's hope yet!
 

According to Guerlain: "Aqua Allegoria Jasminora is a limited edition for 2011. This fresh floral fragrance opens with notes of galbanum, bergamot and cyclamen. The heart features Calabrian jasmine, freesia and lily of the valley, while the base consists of musk and amber."

In Guerlain's Jasminora the protagnonist is hedione (Methyl Dihydrojasmonate, the sparkling, limpid green note isolated from jasmine, paired with the lightening pepperiness of freesia. Here the perfumer used specifically Hedione HC from Firmenich, taking on citrusy touches reminiscent of bergamot juice and magnolia petals. The airy tang is complimenting the floral heart, taking on the refined delicacy of classic vintage Guerlain colognes (like in Eau de Fleurs de Cedrat) and echoing one of the most successful Aqua Allegorias, Flora Nerolia to date (Where the lightly bitter-sour neroli takes on a sensuous overlay, thanks to jasmine). The initial impression is one of electric shock, the peppery flash of freesia and some citrus creating a shockingly "fresh", piquant aura, the air ripe with the promise of rain.

This is supported by a chord of lily of the valley and jasmine which unmistakably translates as "green floral" (the resinous backbone of galbanum grass is furthering this "fresh", bracing impression). Hence my (tentative, as they're not really alike) comparison with vintage Diorissimo, especially in the lighter, fresher concentrations. But whereas the Dior classic veered into a decidedly naughty note in the background ~most notable in the extrait de parfum concentration~ in Jasminora the refined feel is that of a Japanese garden, misty at the edge of dawn and full with the electricity in the air before a rainstorm.
The aqueous elements are woven expertly alongside a sweet note reminiscent of the headiness of honeysuckle, resulting in an uplifting, refreshing melody which is heard though canopies of bright white. The lasting power is very good for an Eau de Toilette, in what is by definition a light genre, through the synergy of modern musks (only lightly powdery) and a subtle mossy note, boosting the freshness into an exploding sense of elation.

Much has been written about how Guerlain is abandoning la patrimonie of their impressive tradition, but with Jasminora they're revisiting part of that heritage with surprisingly credible results and a modern fresh feel. If I might be allowed to grumble amidst a positive review, it's a profound pity Guerlain reserved it for just a limited edition.

The newest Aqua Allegoria, Jasminora, by Guerlain, is available from major Guerlain stockists, £35 for the standard 125ml spray bottle.



Music by Manos Hadjidakis The waltz of lost dreams, from the 1961 Greek film Χαμένα Όνειρα (Lost Dreams).
Picture of Greek actress & dancer Maria Nafpliotou

Missoni Aria: fragrance review

Composed in 1987, Aria by Missoni is predictably as big as a house. In the 1980s, you see, fragrances announced themselves from around the block like a fat man with a protruding belly and you could smell them down the office corridor too long after the cleaning ladies had picked up after the staff (Missoni themselves had the now discontinued ~and replaced by a completely different animal by the same name~ Missoni by Missoni from 1982). For a fruity floral, the olfactory category equivalent of the shy type at the party who wants to blend in, yet appear a bit flirty like all the other girls, Aria is an unlikely candidate, a masquerade of a bold floral which dons a silly pineapple hair clip in case anyone takes her too seriously.

By no means dissonant, Aria is an euphoric big burst of a bubblegum actually, so suffused with flavourful florals and flowery fruits that it's easy to lose track and imagine things that are not there. The image of a giant, juicy fuschia bubblegum derives from the pink jasmine used, plus ylang ylang, which is buttressed by banana-pineaplle and peachy-lactonic notes. One edge is sweet, the other edge is rather tangy and the combined effect is melodious and expansive; the best of both worlds, really.

Aria never really caught many ears or noses at its time, probably because the brand wasn't particularly in your face and kept an elegant but vivacious Italian tricot profile, i.e. it never caught on the American market. Or it might have to do with the ugly bottle, a plain glass phial toped by a sincerely plastic purple cap that could adorn Debbie Gibson's Electric Youth or something. It just didn't feel like luxury, from the looks of it. Today, Aria by Missoni is discontinued, like much else from that time-frame: now that fruity florals are a dime a dozen it sounds like it's a shameful loss of especially good, happy jingles.
You can find old stock at stockists/online discounters or auction sites. There's even some at Amazon right now.

Notes for Missoni Aria:
Top notes: lemon, bergamot, pineapple, banana, raspberry, peach
Heart notes: carnation, tuberose, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley, rose
Base notes: sandalwood, tonka bean, amber, musk, vanilla and cedar.

Oscar de la Renta Esprit d'Oscar: fragrance review & bottle giveaway

It's unusual in perfumery for the start of this century to encounter a modern composition which focuses on that loaded term which is dreaded by so many among the (younger) set: "a powdery fragrance". And yet, Esprit d'Oscar by Oscar de la Renta comes as an eminent sample of a youthful, modern re-interpretation of an age-old theme: the soulful cadenza of Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue. An old-school mainstream fragrance? Rub your eyes really well, perfumistas, this is no joke.

In more parts than it's considered good form to admit when launching a new fragrance, Esprit d'Oscar follows in the footsteps of the original Oscar by Oscar de la Renta from 1977; but that's a good thing! The lineage descending from the iconic Guerlain was evident then as it is now, but whereas the original Oscar was a symphonic floriental with the emphasis on the waft of its bittersweet tuberose message fanned on precious woods, in Esprit d'Oscar the melody is replayed with clarity on a single instrument with multiple keys, like a clavichord. The aniseed and violet accents that give the heliotrope in L'Heure Bleue its wistful, nostalgic character are here substituted by the sweetening of the almond facets of heliotropin. The citrusy top notes which open the fragrance on the other hand provide the necessary freshness to appeal to modern women of both younger and somewhat older age, shopping for a fragrance they can claim their own. Noting that Love, Chloé is also a recent entry operating on unmissable powdery tones, I think we're on to some new trend: old becomes new again!
Perfumer Frank Voekl is known for his streamlined approach which aims at a fragrance that acts as a mantle rather than armoury or clarion-call. On the whole, the axis of the new scent is tilted more to soft floral-oriental or even floral gourmand than to merely floral bouquet, and lovers of both categories are encouraged to sample. The leitmotif of Esprit d'Oscar rests on a fluffy almondy powdery note that supports, like a pampering duvet on which you fall back down on with relief, the floral notes of jasmine. The lemony inclusion lifts the jasmine heart just so, producing a refreshing, effervescent jasmine/white floral note. The white floral heart is rich, sexy and feminine, but non indolic. The synergy of vetiver and sweet (clean) musk (plus I believe a smidge of sandalwood) conspire to enhance the impression of clouds fusing into one another on the late afternoon sky.

So how did the brief begin? Ann Gottlieb, master creative director and responsible for several best-selling classics from the 80s onwards, had a specific context: "To capture the essence of what a woman desires in her fragrance, Oscar turned to his daughter Eliza to help create Esprit d'Oscar, an unmistakably feminine floral-oriental. Esprit d'Oscar opens with a distinct sparkle, realized through a bright, citrus bouquet of Sicilian lemon, bergamot and citron. At its heart remain fresh florals: Egyptian jasmine, orange flower and tuberose. A combination of musk, heliotrope, tonka bean and vetiver give Esprit d'Oscar a warm, long-lasting base."
Whimsical, romantic, beautiful....recommended, I say!

The bottle is even more beautiful up close. Inspired by the original Oscar Parfum bottle design, Oscar envisioned a package for Esprit d'Oscar that would marry the feel of the iconic original, with a fresh contemporary look. Sculptural glass and sleek feminine contours characterize the Esprit d'Oscar bottle. On top of its translucent flower cap, a glass pearl represents a single dewdrop, a symbol from the original Oscar story. When he was a boy, Oscar de la Renta imagined that if he woke up very early, he could take the dew from flowers to create a perfume…and so he did.

Notes for Esprit d'Oscar by Oscar de la Renta:
Top: Sicilian lemon, bergamot and citron
Heart: Egyptian jasmine, orange blossom and tuberose.
Base: musk, heliotrope, tonka bean and vetiver

Esprit d'Oscar is available in the (quite lasting and satisfying in its sillage) concentration of Eau de Parfum in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz bottles for 78$ and 98$ respectively at select department stores. You can see info on oscardelarenta.com. Right now the code OSCAR10 will get you complimentary ground shipping.

For our readers I have one full bottle to give away!! If you want to be eligible, please comment including what you'd like to read on Perfume Shrine next. Draw remains open till Sunday midnight.

Painting by artbycedar
Disclosure: Sampled scent myself at store; giveaway bottle is a promo.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia: fragrance review

There is nothing more early April-like than the smell of bitter orange trees blossoming, their waxy white petals infiltrating the glossy green of the leaves and some fruit still hanging from the branches, like a reminder of what has been already accomplished.


Guerlain captured the ethereal vapors of steam off these delicate, ravishing blossoms and married them to a pre-emptying summer jasmine (middle-ground indolic) and the faint whiff of cool frankincense burning inside a Greek Orthodox church preparing for the country's most devout celebration: Easter. The citrusy aspects of frankincense compliment the fruitier aspects of neroli. Musk in the form of synthetic Cashmeran is anchoring the effect on skin. Guerlain's Flora Nerolia (a part of the original line up in the Aqua Allegoria line in 2000 composed by perfumer Mathilde Laurent) is like a snapshot of late Lent in Greece and for that reason is absolutely precious to me.

Notes for Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia:
neroli and petitgrain (citrus leaves & twigs) in the top, and jasmine and orange blossom in the heart. Frankincense for the base.

Lamentably discontinued (much like the rest of the original line-up composed by Mathilde Laurent) with the exception of Herba Fresca and Pamplune, Flora Nerolia can be sometimes found on Ebay.
The history, notes and short reviews of all the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria scents can be found on this link. 

Background on the Photo (by anomieus/flickr):
As far back as the time of the dowager empress Wilhelmine Amalie an orangery garden was laid out at Schönbrunn which included a hothouse for overwintering bitter orange trees. In 1754 Franz I Stephan instigated the building of the Orangery by Nicola Pacassi, probably to designs by Nicolas Jadot. One hundred and eighty-nine metres long and ten metres wide, the Schönbrunn Orangery is one of the two largest Baroque orangeries in the world, the other being at Versailles. The south façade is articulated by an alternating series of large and smaller apertures with rusticated pilasters decorated with masks. The interior has a rhythmic sequence of shallow vaults and is heated by a hypocaust system. The Orangery served not only as the winter quarters for citrus trees and other potted plants but was also a winter garden used for imperial court festivities. Joseph II was especially fond of holding celebrations in the Orangery with festively-decorated banqueting tables, ranks of flowering plants and illuminations in the citrus trees. During a winter festivity in 1786 Mozart conducted his Singspiel "The Impresario" here.
The rear part of the Orangery is still used in its original function, while the front section, which has been renovated, is used for events such as the Schönbrunn Palace Concert series.

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