Hermes Un Jardin sur le Nil: fragrance review

 My friend Chandler Burr unfolded the story of how the charming and cerebral Jean Claude Ellena was inspired for this fragrance in a New Yorker piece which catapulted a series of events for both him and perfumery reportage. Looking for the starting point of inspiration in Aswan, traveling the Nile, aquatic plants gave way to unripe mangoes as the team of Hermès travelled up to the roots of the great river. An aura of coolness enveloped the French perfumer: he now had the idea!

 via

 Un Jardin sur le Nil was the second of the Hermès Garden series, following the bitter green smelling one, Un Jardin en Mediterranee inspired by a plate of figs offered in a Moroccan garden.

  This unisex Hermès fragrance, Un Jardin sur le Nil (a garden on the Nile) smells more like claw-wound grapefruit than the green mango inspiration behind it. This idea of grapefruit has been on the mind of Jean Claude Ellena ever since In Love Again for Yves Saint Laurent. He has been toying and toiling with it in Rose Ikebana, for the Hermessences boutique exclusives and in Cologne Eau de Pamplemousse Rose. The idea of a lasting, fresh, juicy grapefruit which retains the tartness and subtle bitterness underneath the citrusy quality is a holy grail for him. Here it is triumphant and energizing, effervescent almost, a bullwhip for the flesh. 

via

But Un Jardin sur le Nil soon settles into a woody and starchy serenity that lends some welcome peace of mind (and courage) to a very hot day. Its incense aura lasts...and lasts...and lasts...as long as the journey to the sources of the Nile itself.

Beautiful in any season and very welcome in a hot spell. 

Bois d'Iris by The Different Company: a different iris fragrance review

 Although iris scents are often mentioned in regards to powdery and starchy shades in perfumery, which would recall paper, skin, and bulbous vegetables, with Bois d'Iris The Different Company (not to be confused with Van Cleef & Arpel’s subsequent release under its Collection Extraordinaire line Bois d'Iris) we come upon an epiphany.

It's more of a manifestation of woods within iris than actual iris. This provides the necessary piquancy to bring out a certain oddness to the aura of the scent, which makes one wonder where scent ends and skin begins, or vice versa.

Iris concrete lacks the diffusional standards for modern perfumery, so perfumer Ellena bolstered the material with alpha-iso-methyl ionone, to add a diffusive violet chord alongside the chalkier analog of the iris. 

 

The duet of iris and alpha-iso-methyl ionone also structures Hermès Hiris, but while Olivia Giacobetti’s formula uses carrot seeds and almond wood, Bois d’Iris veers into cedarwood to render a sublime una corda pedal of a scent.

Luxury and the Hermessences: Fragrant Musings

Hermès has always seemed to me the height of luxury: not just a status symbol to carry around, but a brand organically grown out of that most aristocratic accoutrement, horse riding and its paraphernalia. As saddlers, Hermès have distinguished themselves in the axiom of "beauty serving functionality", a sort of van der Rohe "less is more" philosophy where every touch is truly meaningful, truly essential. Their fragrances are a reflection of this effortless luxury, diverting from bourgeois spick-and-span, and speaks of old money, not new. 

 

The fact that Réna Dumas (née Gregoriadès), architect and mother of Pierre Alexis Dumas, was of Greek extraction, alongside her pushing a Hellenic aesthetic to the brand through collaborations with artists and illustrators, has solidified this classical approach in my mind. She detested pomposity, she embraced serenity and douceur de vivre.

 

This fusion of functionality and douceur (softness) is what is also reflected in Jean Claude Ellena's work for Hermès, especially in the Hermessences, their boutique-only line of fragrances which are simple like haikus, harmonious like the Parthenon, but never simplistic, nor unnecessarily imposing. They retain a human closeness, a sort of philosophical proximity with the culture of light, a message read on the pure blue skies of a life bathed in inherent goodness.

 

The Hermessences line, essences by Hermès literally, is comprised of laconic names, often with a double entendre, focusing on unexpected facets of a given material, rather than trying to highlight its stereotypical olfactory profile. They do not rely on in-your-face exclusivity or luxury, like other designer lines, but rather a desire to explore new pathways to pleasure.

After all these years, I'm still taken with their subtlety, their grace, their effortless nod to luxury, a suspension of time. 

Hermes Elixir des Merveilles: Revisiting my Fragrance Review

Elixir de Merveilles came out ages ago and we have all -I hope- tried it out in the shop. But are we still grasping its genius? It's the rare fragrance which possesses that odd twist: the woody structure is given a steeping into sweeter materials, yet the resulting effect isn't really sweet at all. The chypre-reminiscent earthy note of patchouli gives a grounding to the orangeade of the original Eau de Merveilles, with its more summery facets; in fact the perfumer coerces Elixir into recalling more of the rind of the fruit than the juice.

via

The rind of the hesperides fruit is by its very nature resinous, thus colliding with the other resinous materials in the background, providing that much needed liaison. But because orange rind is lightly bitterish and refreshing, akin to the scent of fresh sweat, Elixir de Merveilles becomes perfect for intimate wearing when one's body stills retains a little sweat, mingling with the humidity of the environment, the overripeness and the loaded pong of the vegetal matter, but retaining its lived-in chic.


Elixir des Merveilles by Hermès is a Oriental Fougere fragrance for women which was launched in 2006. The nose behind this fragrance is Jean-Claude Ellena. The fragrance features scent notes of Peru balsam, vanilla sugar, amber, sandalwood, tonka bean, patchouli, Siam resin, caramel, oak, incense, orange peel and cedarwood.

Hermes Eau d'Hermes: Thoughts on Revisiting a Classic

Choosing an Hermès fragrance is, to me, an embarrasement of riches. The brand is among my very favorites for several reasons; most important of all is that their axiom of effortless luxury is very simpatico to my own aesthetic values. I love so many of their fragrant canon...In the end if put into the position to choose, I have to distill the exercise into a search for clarity. In that field, two clear contestants came head and shoulders above: Terre d'Hermès and the original Eau d'Hermès. After all the latter is advertised as being "l'eau de la terre d'Hermès depuis 1951" (i.e. Hermes's essence since 1951)

They're both unexacting on the wearer, feeling like lucid impressionistic creations that manage to be abstract without coming across as maudlin, nor conspicuous. In the ensuing bras de fer the progenitor rose triumphant in those stakes, even though the child, Terre, is stellar on its own merits. Eau d'Hermès for the ride then!

This old creation from 1951 was a composition by the legendary perfumer Edmond Roudnitska, and since such a huge part of the Hermès modern legacy has been composed by Roudnitska's magnificent pupil, master perfumer Jean Claude Ellena, it was long due to pay respects to the fountain that brought forth such scented marvels. Additionally, Ellena has overseen the perfectly decent modern reformulation of the vintage composition with his customary attention to detail; a feat in today's world of watered-down reformulations that leave new perfumephiliacs in a query as to what we, rather more seasoned aficionados, see in the monuments of the past.

Eau d'Hermès is predominantly a fresh and the same time sensuous scent for both sexes, with emphasis on both qualities. Nowadays these might seem mutually exclusive, but they definitely are not by default; it's culturally imposed to view them so. The inspiration couldn't have been more Hermès if it tried: the soft insides of a luxurious leather handbag where a spicy citrus mingles with the odor of fine leather. The important addition of cardamom, a "cold" spice which pairs exceptionally well with both leather and citruses, and which gives a cool feeling of freshness alongside the spiciness, is pre-empting several of Ellena's spicy arpeggios, inclusive or exclusive of Hermès fragrances.

At the time of writing, Eau d'Hermes has ONLY 4 PEOPLE naming it as a signature scent on a popular database of millions of viewers, which I think must be a record for a scent from a major fragrance house. It's high time more people talked about Eau d'Hermès and tried it on for good measure. I hope my update accomplishes that and ensures a continued production of this silent strong type of a scent.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine:

Edmond Roudnitska, the creator of perfume masterpieces, a tribute
Interviews and tributes to fragrance industry creators

Transitioning Hermes fragrance from hot to cool weather: From Eau de Merveilles to Elixir and L'Ambre

The prevailing advantage of the concept for Eau de Merveilles by Hermes was presenting a fragrance marketed to women that did not emit a single floral note. True, it did include a violet ionone effect which veers into the woody spectrum, but the general impression of the scent was an orange ade-sprinkled, woody-amber, salty skin-scent. The execution was so successful that it begat its own series of flanker fragrances, among which two at least present their individual accomplishments with the excellence expected out of the master stroke of perfumer genius; so good are they, that they could be appreciated without prior knowledge of their ancestor.

Elixir de Merveilles came out in 2006 and possesses that odd twist: the woody structure is given a steeping into sweeter materials, yet the resulting effect isn't really sweet at all. The chypre-reminiscent earthy note of patchouli gives a grounding to the orange ode of the original; in fact it coerces it into recalling more of the rind of the fruit than the juice. The rind is by its very nature resinous, thus colliding with the other resinous materials in the background, providing that much needed liaison. But because orange rind is lightly bitterish and refreshing, akin to the scent of fresh sweat, Elixir de Merveilles becomes perfect for summer when one's body is slick with sweat, mingling with the humidity of the environment the over-ripeness and the loaded pong of the vegetal matter, but retaining its lived-in chic. And for reasons of having exactly that earthy, bookish quality about it, it's perfect for transitioning into fall seamlessly.

L'Ambre de Merveilles (2012) on the other hand presents a transparently warm halo on its wearer, which puts the golden light of a late autumnal day over tender skin, much like Faure's Sicilienne does for the mood of a melancholy Sunday afternoon when the hands of the clock seem stuck in molasses...The patchouli subsists, attenuated, tipsy with balsamic caramel sweetness. The traditional labdanum that provides the backbone of the "amber" chord gives L'Ambre a subtly animalistic touch, the feral eyebrows contrasting with the square-jawed heavy-set face of a rather carnal beauty. It's what one dreams of when the galloping of an imaginary carriage is drawing further away and feeling the eerie sensation of just what it takes "to win friends and influence people." The combined sense of ease and unease. Priceless really.


Related reading on PerfumeShrine: 
L'Ambre des Merveilles by Hermes perfume review
Frequent Questions: The various Hermes Merveilles flankers & limited editions
Hermes perfume reviews & news

Hermes Eau de Neroli Dore: fragrance review

Although it might seem like Eau de Néroli Doré is more masculine leaning and could be interpreted by the casual "sniffeur" as maudlin its crunchy texture is indicative of great dexterity in the treatment of ingredients and concepts.

It feels at once golden and soapy and with a leather undertone like a handsome person who just put on the world's fluffiest T-shirt and trousers in Egyptian cotton and the softest leather slip-ons in existence just to enjoy a morning view of the orchard by the sea. I'm sold.

My full review can be found on Fragrantica.

Homage Rendered: 10 Years of Terre d'Hermes

Virgil said in his Georgics, referring to agricultural labors, "Tempus fugit", i.e. time flies. And it does fly and the older I get, the more I realize I can't really keep up. But I do keep up with perfume anniversaries, because, well, my inclination for perfume archiving bodes well with both the passion and the job. I was counting the years behind some of the best perfumes around and one of them has just feted its 10th birthday.

Without further ado, I present you with Terre d'Hermes, one of the best-selling masculine fragrances in Europe, which is commemorating the anniversary with two special 2016 edition for the Eau de Toilette and the Parfum Extrait. Please read the homage on Fragrantica on this link.

"Perfume does not have a function. It's more than a function. It's not necessary. It's not particularly useful."

Thus presents the aphorism perfumer Jean Claude Ellena. And Christine Nagel, co-head perfumer at Hermes perfume development, quips: "It's impossible to wear a perfume that you don't like. If you took more time to smell people rather than looking at them you would understand them better. If you took the time to do that."

A very interesting interview of both Jean Claude Ellena and Christine Nagel is uploaded on the NY Mag on this link by Kathleen Hou. They explain how we can't be with people whose smell we don't like, whether Hermes soap is superior to all the other soap around, how marketing and perfumery work in weaving fragrant stories and how the two perfumers have almost fallen in love...with each other's work that is. Read on for interesting insights.

Hermes Le Jardin de Monsieur Li: new fragrance

It is official. The final chapter in the Jardin fragrance series by the historical house of Hermes is inspired by a garden redolent of in house perfumer Jean Claude Ellena's favorite flower: jasmine. The flower he grew up with (Jean Claude was taken as a child alongside the family, working with the workers, for the dawn picking of the lush white blossoms which smelled halfway between flower and flesh, as he recalls in his Journal d'un Parfumeur/Diary of a Perfumer).

The inclusion of the unusual note of kumquat, a small citrus fruit with a rich scent favored for the preparation of a special liqueur on the island of Corfu, recalls the fruity hesperidic note in Colette 1873 by Histoires de Parfums.

The name, Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, is of course recalling a garden fantasy, as previous editions in the series did: the plate of figs offered in a garden in North Africa as translated into Un Jardin en Mediterannee (2003), the green mango and sycomore trees in Assouan, Egypt, in Un Jardin sur le Nil (2005), the monsoon in Kerala, India in Un Jardin apres la Mousson (2008), and the actual garden atop the Hermes headquarters which provided vegetables for the Dumas family during WWII in Un Jardin sur le Toit (2011).

Of course this is the swan song of Jean Claude Ellena for Hermes as well. He is to be succeeded by Christine Nagel, as we had announced on Perfume Shrine a while ago.

The new Jardin fragrance by Hermes, Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, is set to be available at the flagship Hermes boutique on Madison Avenue (in NYC) in early March 2015.

Hermes Hermessence Cuir d'Ange (2014): fragrance review

 The sum of its constellations is not one and the same as the Milky Way, and likewise holding an exquisite map is not one and the same as knowing the whole world. My exploration of Hermès Cuir d'Ange, the latest Hermessence creation by master perfumer Jean Claude Ellena, serves yet another subtle reminder to such empiricism.

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

Yes, I have been playing with Cuir d'Ange for a week now, complete with my Hermès leather notebook, leather bracelet and the latest Le Monde d’Hermès magazine. But the story goes back further.

Photo “Hermès, 2014” by AlbertCAN, all rights reserved

More than after a decade of charting Ellena’s tenure at Hermès one would think Cuir d'Ange serves as an inevitable arc to his craft―our Elena’s initial thought on this creation is worth repeating here:

In Jean le Bleu, Jean Giono, perfumer Jean Claude Ellena's favorite author, describes the father of the narrator as "a cobbler who makes soles in angel leather". Angel leather, cuir d'ange… the newest in the Hermessences, (those are boutique exclusive fragrances by Hermès) is recalling the passage which served for the inspiration for another perfume by Hermes back in 2007, Kelly Calèche. Indeed "cuir d'ange" was the VERY expression Ellena used when promoting Kelly Calèche. And Giono had a prominent position anyway in the presentation of Cuir d'Ange to our world of journalism as pretty young men and women actors read passages from his opus in le jardin de Paraïs at Giono's house at Manosque…

There, such marvellous consistency in story telling, la clarté de l'image. Taking this notion to its logical conclusion reviewing Cuir d’Ange can be the gentlest curation for any capable fragrance writer. And indeed during the research phase of this review yours truly had it all deftly mapped out, starting with Monsieur Ellena’s initial visit to the fabled Hermès leather vault, his surprising discovery that the scent of finest leather is laced with an infusion of delicate florals. Segue into a review of the original Kelly Calèche eau de parfum, reflection of iris, violet, mimosa into leather; perhaps a comparison with my initial thoughts on the ephemeral parfum variation. Cue Cuir d’Ange, perhaps the requisite list of fragrance notes here, perhaps an impression of Jean Giono’s poetic prose there, punctuating with generous quotations from Ellena’s books. Respectfully faithful, diplomatically articulate, effortlessly pleasurable to write. One delicate problem: I could convincingly review Cuir d’Ange this way without needing to sample the scent first.

Learning so much about the aesthetics in this case one runs the danger of pondering the aesthetic experience without having an olfactory experience firsthand. Curating beautifully detailed maps in lieu of an actual exploration, if you will.

I am by no means to suggest Ellena’s paradigm, so singularly well thought out and elegant, as anything else but commendable. The master perfumer has left an indelible mark in industry with his verve, flair and panache. Nor am I wishing the Hermès communication process to be any different: the authenticity of its communication here is incredible. With this being it’s the fundamental duty of any respectable fragrance writer to compose an equally genuine and independent reflection upon reviewing any scent.

Thus to me, upon hearing so much of Ellena’s thoughts on the concept of angel leather, it’s absolutely paramount to do Cuir d’Ange justice when sampling the latest Hermessence. Assumption cannot be made that this leather fragrance is the re-edification of the Kelly Calèche base. And long and behold those two are not the same.

The most marked characteristic of Hermessence Cuir d’Ange to me is the absence of the traditional top notes. Whereas Kelly Calèche opens with grapefruit and mango, Hermessence Cuir d’Ange opens with a halo. Yes, a nimbus: There no other way to describe the creamy roundness of white musks―most notably of Ambrettolide to me―and the unmistakable depth of Ambrox. Yet Ellena deftly cues in the leather, along with its Hermès floral nuance: Violet, narcissus, hawthorn all contribute to the hologram, with a delicate depth of powder from the violet, tobacco sheen the narcissus, and honeyed sweetness the hawthorn. There’s heliotrope at its depth, too, yet more noticeable as the leather develops. Kelly Calèche, in comparison, is more floral, as climbing rose and tuberose are definitely not present in Cuir d’Ange; the vegetal verdancy of green tea and iris, too, is all just Kelly Calèche. Hermessence Cuir d’Ange, in comparison, stays ho-hum in its billowy glow; while the aura is delicate, round and soft, there isn’t a distinct leap of notes in its scent progression. In fact all things considered Hermessence Cuir d’Ange doesn’t fit into any traditional olfactory pyramidal structure, lacking the top-middle-base counterpoints (the opening musks persist even during the drydown). Now during the time of master perfumer Edmond Roudnitska such compositions would be considered more as a perfumery base, yet a light bulb went off in my head upon sampling Cuir d’Ange.

As a Hermès client who has frequented the boutiques for 12 years (and counting) I can confidently ring the affirmative: Hermessence Cuir d’Ange is truly an olfactory reincarnation of the Hermès leather, period. Even the re-emphasis of flower into leather isn’t co-incidental, as the 2014 global theme of Hermès is “Metamorphasis”, as witnessed by the venerable brand’s print communications.

Now while many would place Bandit and Knize Ten as the touchstone of the classic leather genre, namely the isobutyl quinoline school, or Chanel Cuir de Russie the rectified birch tar school, Hermessence Cuir d’Ange is unapologetically a whisper in comparison—yet that’s not the point altogether. Ellena has been dreaming of a leather Hermessence fragrance even since his 2004 appointment as the master perfumer of Hermès, and I would argue that his ten years is reflected in Cuir d’Ange: part Jour d’Hermès radiance, part sparseness of Voyage d’Hermès . In fact if I am allowed to widen the scope of this discussion I would even say that this is a re-interpretation of the fundamental idea Ellena explored in L'Eau d'Hiver Frederic Malle, namely the modernization the halo effect found in Guerlain Après L'Ondée (1906) but without the Baroque frills: In the Malle hay absolute is paired with Aubepine (foundation of hawthorn) and Heliotropin (of heliotrope) instead. Yet the same idea of roundness in shaping.Which is to say the same Ellena caveats are still decidedly present: Ellena is still not here to persuade you about, well, anything. Hermessence Cuir d’Ange glows close to the skin—in fact I’m wearing 5 generous sprays (including a spray to my clothes) in order to ensure a long-lasting halo. And similar to the other Hermessence fragrances Cuir d’Ange I find modifies once on the skin. Osmanthe Yunnan and Iris Ukiyoé sing exceptionally well on me, whereas Vanille Galante and Rose Ikebana decidedly not. I’m giving Cuir d’Ange some more time to rest on my skin as the result.

Verdict: Luminous, deftly crafted, a fantastic addition to the Hermessence collection. Best to test it thoughtfully on you before committing to it.

Photos, from top: “Hermès, 2014” by AlbertCAN, all rights reserved; Hermessence Cuir d'Ange; Hermès Fall/Winter 2014/2015 campaigns.

Hermes Hermessence Cuir d'Ange: new fragrance

In Jean le Bleu, Jean Giono, perfumer Jean Claude Ellena's favorite author, describes the father of the narrator as "a cobbler who makes soles in angel leather". Angel leather, cuir d'ange…how's that for poetic? It's my privilege to break the good news to you then. The newest in the Hermessences, (those are boutique exclusive fragrances by Hermès) is recalling the passage which served for the inspiration for another perfume by Hermes back in 2007, Kelly Calèche.

Indeed "cuir d'ange" was the VERY expression Ellena used when promoting Kelly Calèche. And Giono had a prominent position anyway in the presentation of Cuir d'Ange to our world of journalism as pretty young men and women actors read passages from his opus in le jardin de Paraïs at Giono's house at Manosque…

But to revert to Kelly Calèche. This sleeper classic seemed to me at the time (and continues to do so) as the perfect gateway into "proper fragrance" for young ladies who were hesitant to borrοw their mothers "big" florientals and fruity chypres (like the brand's own 24 Faubourg) and their grand-mothers' prim aldehydics (like the original Calèche).

The idea of a floral leather perfume in non sweet tonalities was brought out in a chic and reserved way in 2007, maybe too reserved for its own sales, but it was such a good idea that the newly changed guard at Balenciaga copied the concept for their very own Florabotanica fragrance recently, this time fronted by trashy-chic Kristen Stewart to ensure 20-something commercial appeal. But no matter. It seems like Hermès is revisiting the idea and introducing a "material-focused" version ~as Ellena puts it when describing the process of creating the line~ (and if the previous installments are enough indication a trompe l'oeil on said materials!) Treating the idea anew is also a good transitioning for the succeeding perfumer at the helm, Christine Nagel, Ellena's protégée, who will be asked to continue and advance an impressive body of olfactory opus in a little while.

So, after the unusual Epice Marine, an angelic leather, a take without regard of intended sex this time, (as the Hermessences are created unisex) but which brings forth images of softness, vegetal and airy qualities and the familiar touch of this master perfumer. And never before has the soft leather "fold" in which the Hermessences bottles are put into seemed more appropriate: a buttery cream as smooth and inviting to the touch as feathers off the back of an angel…
Bring it forth; Hermessence Cuir d'Ange gets officially launched in September 2014!

Maximizing Your Fragrance's Use: Perfume Application Tips from Jean Claude Ellena & Francis Kurkdjian

The way of applying fragrance for maximum appreciation and enjoyment is a fine art. If you're a beginner, you might want to consult Perfume Shrine's full article on how and where to apply perfume more effectively to make it last longer and enjoy it more. Today I want to share with you a few professional tips I have come across during my readings from top perfumers Jean Claude Ellena and Francis Kurkdjian, first appearing in French Vogue.
I'm sharing this advice with you here, translated by me from the French, for your delectation and should you wish to add or comment on any of them via your personal experience, you're very welcome to do so.

via thrift store girl

On traveling:

When traveling, bring a box of incense paper (Papier d'Armenie) in your luggage to perfume your clothes. And at night in your hotel room, spray some Eau de Cologne on your pillow. A smell that relaxes and comforts. " (Francis Kurkdjian)

On leaving a fragrant trail:

"To leave behind a sensual trail that lasts all day, nothing better than dabbing perfume directly with your fingers leaving the spray aside. You lose a bit of material that way, but the skin is impregnated better." (Jean Claude Ellena)

On entertaining:

"In the summer, for lunches and dinners with friends, scent the guest towels with rose water mixed with a little lemon juice to give a prolonged fresh feeling throughout the meal." (Francis Kurkdjian)

On where best to apply perfume on the body:

"Above all, never wear perfume at the wrist as jewelry and watches alter the scent. The ideal is to spray the crook of the elbow or on the neck: the fragrance then diffuses to its maximum potential". (Jean Claude Ellena)

Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta 10th anniversary Editione Speciale 2013: fragrance review & free perfume bottle givaway

Husks of cardamom, crashed and fragrant, in my pocket. A window opening up to a vista of green pines overlooking the Mediterranean azure blue under the crisp but smiling sun of noon. The scent of clean linen dried in the fresh air in the breeze and the human warmth of a worn wool sweater approaching. Zesty citrus as when you scrap a bitter orange with your nails. Scattered writings on the desk, unfinished phrases, small notes of random thoughts. Pencil shavings in an ashtray, abandonded and lonely. A beautiful stem of jasmine cut and browning by the hour. Safety. Serenity. Solace.

When in 2003 the formidable collaboration of perfumers Jean Claude Ellena and Bertrand Duchaufour came up with the original Colonia Assoluta for Acqua di Parma the feat wasn't announced with fanfare. But now that the classical Cologne has re-emerged from the attic as the eternal sine qua non of Southern European elegance and proper grooming, when totally modern spins on this time-honored genre, such as GS03 (Biehl Parfumkunstwerke), as well as more traditional ones, like Chanel Eau de Cologne, draw our attention, rediscovering this refined gem in a gorgeous presentation for its 10th anniversary is occasion for rejoicing.

Acqua di Parma assures us that more than ten ingredients are of a natural origin in their Colonia Assoluta: Calabrian bergamot, red orange, orange blossom, jasmine, lavender, rosemary, Virginia cedar and sandalwood. Less citrusy than the original Colonia, more emphatically aromatic and mossier, the way Cartier Declaration is mossy under the cardamom cool spiciness, Colonia Assoluta is everything I picture a graceful man (or a woman who loves using shared fragrances) of my culture wearing.

The bottle design for the Colonia Assoluta 10th anniversary isn't just random: This special edition decorated with graphic signs is inspired by the moving spokes of a bicycle. The original pattern was designed by Acqua di Parma to convey the contemporary feel of this particular Eau de Cologne and its users, modern men around town, atop their bicycle. The original motif is reproduced in the bottle and case with the spokes stretching across the surface in silver hues, the distinctive colour of Colonia Assoluta. It is through a special craft that the spokes are engraved on the glass surface in order to create light and dark contrasts serving as an elegant expression of the sophisticated scent itself. Light contrasts keep changing with every motion of the large sized 180ml bottle, offered in the refillable version to last in time. 

Notes for Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta:
Top: bergamot, bitter orange, sweet orange and lemon verbena
Heart: jasmine, vetiver, ylang-ylang, cedar, cardamom, pink pepper and paprika
Base: patchouli, oakmoss, white musk, sandalwood and resins

Please note this isn't the first special edition for Colonia Assoluta: there is also Editione Riviera (2007), Editione Speciale 2011 and Colonia Assoluta in Villa (2009). This 10th anniversary edition is code-named Colonia Assoluta Editione Speciale 2013.

To make this 180ml/6oz bottle you see in the picture yours, please post a comment saying whether you bicycle or not (and why) and if you have any favorite associations with bicycles. Mine will forever be Ladri di Biciclette by Vittorio de Sica.
Draw is open internationally till Sunday 10th October midnight and the winner will be announced on Monday.

Hermes Hermessence Epice Marine: new fragrance preview

The sea accord is sweet. The smell coming from the bed of the ocean and the misty fog in Brittany is not. To evoke therefore the changing scenery of Mont Saint Michel which recalls seascapes by Turner and pirate adventures full of spices, wooden floors and smoked woods, in house Hermès perfumer Jean Claude Ellena pairs an algae & smoky whisky accord with spices to render a "spicy marine" fragrance, namely Epice Marine (which translates exactly like that). Marine fragrances are the anathema of many a hard-core perfume aficionado, mainly due to the prevailing of this genre during the 1990s, a landmark for perfumery which created with its deeply artificial nuance as many foes as it did acolytes. But if there is one illusionist able to shutter biases and make perfumephiles see things anew, it is without doubt Ellena. And that's what he does in his latest Hermessence; beyond the sea, but not far from it all the same.

Epice Marine, the 11th Hermessence fragrance, is inspired on the one hand by the Saint-Malo milieu, full of celtic traditions and the marine songs of the changing scenery of Mont Saint Michel, that is so familiar to Olivier Roellinger (3 stars Michelin chef & owner of Maisons de Bricourt in Cancale) and on the other hand by the Provencal countryside of Cabris where Hermès perfumer Jean Claude Ellena spends his days immersed in the serene Mediterranean blue. The conversation between these two opposing, and yet converging worlds, took the course of a passionate and prolonged epistolary exchange of views between the two men during the course of many months, starting with Roellinger's invitation to Ellena in october 2011 to come over at Cancale at La Maison du Voyager (the voyager's mansion) where the chef grew up and keeps his spice & savory archives for his restaurants.

pic provided to PerfumeShrine via Hermes

An idea begins to take shape in Ellena's mind as he listens to his friend recount the seafaring adventures required to amass and distribute green cardamom and Sichuan pepper on the Spice Route during the 16th century and the trafficking conducted by pirates. Contrary to bourgeois perfumery, which uses several accords and complicated combinations "to render an effect", Ellena likes to zero-in on the essentials, rendered in an artistic way which allows to highlight unexpected facets.

Toasted cumin grains, sent from Cancale to Cabri, seal the deal for the new concept: Epice Marine will focus on this polarizing note which is central to the adventures of seafaring. But contrary to the usual cumin essence which has a tendency to recall human sweat to some people, this toasted cumin variety renders an aromatic oil which is human-smelling all the same, carnal and skin-like, as Ellena divulges, but in a very sensual tonality. Ellena has this spice distilled to render an essential oil which encompasses notes of toasted bread, hazelnut, sesame; these nuances are deeply exciting to Ellena, who proceeds to write to Roellinger to relay his appreciation and to inform him that he is continuing, with a bigger order for the toasted spice, allied with cinnamon and cardamom.

via aromo.ru

Epice Marine by Hermès also uses a generous helping of bergamot to give a vibrant start. To that he has added a synthetic molecule which recalls algae, a more oceanic feel than the sea accord. This is done intentionally as the "sea" note is sweeter than the ocean at Brittany (la Bretagne), which is drier, saltier, more savory. The coupling of the algae note with the spice manages to evoke that. But one thing is missing... The scent of the marine mist, that deep humid scent that comes out of the seabed. This is the definitive accent, provided by a smoky, peaty note of whisky constructed anew by Ellena himself, specifically inspired by the Bruichladdich whisky (a gorgeous single malt from the Hebrides with elegant floral notes). It evokes the boiled buckwheat and the North-East winds of the foggy Brittany.

After 24 mods, the perfumer is still not satisfied with the development of the composition. The smokiness and the oceanic notes seem a little flat to him. He reworks the oakmoss essence variety used in the base, deducts the vetiver variety used previously, and works on a source water "note" to lessen the salty aspect of the fragrance. It is now March 2012. In two months the finished fragrance will be ready but it will take a while to see the light of day: in September 2013 Epice Marine will hit the boutiques. The adventure begins...

 certain notes thanks to Sybille Grandchamp of Vanity Fair France, translated by the author.

The Different Company Bois d’Iris: Fragrance Review

Yes, this is my copy of Bois d’Iris—right up to the obtuse notch on the top left corner of the box upon yours truly’s overzealous unwrapping—yet in all honestly after a few years I still haven’t figured out a proper place for master perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena’s creation.

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

photo copyright: AlbertCAN (used with permission)

Is it the subject matter? Hardly. Iris is one of my preferred olfactory subjects of exploration. (Apparently so does the US Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour, as the owners of Aedes de Venustas told Chandler Burr: "Dolce and Gabbana came in for a thank-you gift for Anna Wintour. She likes irises, so we loaded her basket with iris candles, iris soaps, iris room sprays, and decorated it with fresh irises.") Could it then be the compositional philosophy? Quite the opposite: many readers of this space and my humble blog would know that I have been a keen observer of Ellena’s aesthetics for years now. The quality of the ingredients is also evident from the first moment to the last, the packaging from The Different Company impeccable. So what makes it just short of being a clincher?

An epiphany striked through upon composing this review: it’s in the name. Bois d’Iris (not to be confused with Van Cleef & Arpel’s subsequent release under its niche Collection Extraordinaire line) is exactly what the title suggests: it’s more of a manifestation of woods within iris.

Let’s not to imply that Ellena skimped on costs here: the pricy iris concrete is used here and its effect is evident. For the purpose of composing this review I have pulled out my batch of iris to compare. Indeed the concrete is at the depth of this work, forming an earthy, damp, slightly tunnelled ambiance at the back end. The iris used in Bois d’Iris creates a smooth and silken effect, while displaying all typical facets of the material: the floral violets, the dark gourmands, the dry woods. And because iris concrete just by itself lacks the diffusional standards for modern perfumery Ellena here has chosen to bolster the material with alpha-isomethyl ionone, a material having a diffusive, powdery impression of violets and its slightly chalkier analogue—you’ve guessed it—iris. At this point I should point out that the duo of iris and alpha-isomethyl ionone also form the backbone of Hermès Hiris, yet whereas Olivia Giacobetti’s composition lightens up the cornerstone with carrot and almond wood, Bois d’Iris veers into another direction.

A few years back I had the fortune of communicating with Octavian Coifan about subtle ways of emphasizing iris within a composition, and he mentioned that vetiver or even cedar would be good options. While Chanel 28 La Pausa, another iris fragrance, has vetiver at its base, Bois d’Iris is firmly in the cedarwood territory. And the heart of the composition is filled with narcissus and aspects of geranium: the rosy geraniol and citronnellol, the woodsy-peppery-floral linalool. Then to complete the composition we have the clove aspect from eugenol, the slight ylang impression from benzyl salicylate and the hay-like depth from coumarin. Limonene, the essential building block of citrus elements, is also present, though I don’t generally consider that to be the main player at all; in fact, the traditional top notes are neither prominent nor emphasized.

Now I don’t know about you, but at this point the above-mentioned notes, in their respective positions, read modern French formal to me—emphasis on the word formal. Don’t get me wrong: like I have previously mentioned the composition integrity is commendable, style consistent with Ellena’s point of view. Yet what comes with its Gallic nature is an authentic air of reservation and formality, more of a silent masculine to Hiris feminine. Reserved, pensive. It’s not to suggest that Bois d’Iris is boring, with the narcissus-eugenol-coumarin axis giving off a slight wine-like nuance and the cedar forming a nice wine-cask resonance. Now I suspect Bois d'Iris knows how to enjoy life, but only tastefully in private.

Overall? Bois d’Iris is something I use from time to time in my own spare time, when I feel like losing myself in a long leisurely read. If I want my holy grail iris I will continue layering Hiris with Persicol.

The Diary of a Nose by Jean Claude Ellena: Perfume Book Review

Mηδέν ἄγαν (i.e. nothing in excess)
  ~oracular statement inscripted on the wall of the Delphi oracle in Greece, 440 BC

"We have exiled beauty; the Greeks took up arms for her." 
  ~Albert Camus 

'I was born in Grasse, and yet I do not feel Grassois by nature, nor Provençal, for that matter. [...] My attachment to the place is due to my paternal grandparents, who were of Italian descent and who set up home there. [...] I love the sea and its horizon, where my gaze gets lost as the blue of the sky and that of the sea merge. I appreciate the beautiful bodies, the drape of light clothing, the discreet elegance and restraint. I have never been able to truss myself up in suits; their restrictiveness denotes a rigidness of mind and disenchantment with life. I believe in happiness, in man, in a lay spirituality; I do not trust religions. I would rather have eye contact for a long time than chatter for a long time. And, although I like to seduce, I have a sense of propriety with words. As I write this, I am reminded in particular of Camus, who wrote in L'exil d'Hélène:

"Greek thought always took refuge in the idea of limits. It pushed nothing to its full extent, not the sacred, nor reason, because it denied nothing, not the sacred, nor reason. It took everything into account, balancing shadow and light".

I have never sought to impose anything. My research is driven by a constrant desire to find a balance between what can be felt with the senses and what is intelligible to the mind. I am Mediterranean. '

  ~Jean Claude Ellena, Cabris 26 August 2010

Santorini house, Greece. Source: moonlightrainbow.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

The thought that Ellena represents the Mediterranean prototype to a T (in itself a Classical prototype of meaningful, deceptive simplicity) has been at the back of my mind since forever. I had even posed the question to the man himself, to which he had smiled. I now see why most clearly.

"The Diary of a Nose" from which the above Ellena quote originates is the USA edition of the original French title "Journal d'un Parfumeur" (Sabine Wespieser Éditeur), printed by Rizzoli ExLibris, with the official launch date for the USA being 22 January 2013. As I was sent an advance copy I was able to gauge the differences with the French original which kept me engaging company for months on end. The main difference is right there on the cover itself: the odd usage of the word "parfumeur", as in "A Year in the Life of a Parfumeur" (as well as "exclusive parfumeur for Hermès" underneath it) in what is otherwise a 100% English-speaking tome threw me off a bit. It sounds tortured and odd. But that is the only flaw.

If you had only read Rachel Cooke's Observer review of the UK-edition of Diary of a Nose last summer, you might want to reconsider your impressions. Not because this new US edition of the Ellena-penned tome (with its fuschia jacket) is any different than the British version (with the beige-peach jacket), but because Cooke missed the point entirely, much as she should have known better, being an awarded journalist with lots of experience. But such are the perils of being a journalist in general rather than a fragrance writer per se. You get all in awe of the perceived authority of Turania (because you don't know any better yourself, I presume? what gives?) and you spend more time discussing them and their views (missing some of the praise they give Ellena too!) instead of focusing on the book and its author at hand! Not to mention that if this were a real life situation it would be exceptionally rude and inappropriate to describe someone only by way of comparing him unfavorably to someone else! How is that OK in a book review?

Lucia van der Post's jacket description of Ellena as the "Mozart of perfumery" in the Financial Times is quite apt, even though those of us who are musically trained might feel the "too many notes" of the ethereal musical garlands of the classical composer are contested by Ellena's adherence to "less is more" and the laconic simplicity the perfumer aims for. But the comparison is totally understood nevertheless: Ellena makes everything seem effortless -the prime constituent of elegance- even though reading the book one realizes that the process is anything BUT effortless! Like a "Cahiers du Cinéma" auteur, he chooses the word "author" to denote that perfume composition more than anything else is an intellectual work that requires thought behind each step and one which is uniquely personal to the creator who oversees everything about it.

Ellena takes the opportunity to show how ordinary situations form his creations: a standard air flight, when he recognizes one of his creations on a passenger whose smoke remnants surface beneath it; observing the Italian language teacher's way of scheduling his day, slow, observant & dreamy; discussions with friends and people in the field or business meetings (visiting growers of raw materials in Italy, appraising the heritage at Hermès) or more sophisticated/sensuous encounters (a purposefully arranged chef-guided dinner filled with gourmet appreciation or a Japanese Kodo ritual he attends).
All these occasions provide the stepping stone into pondering (instead of pontificating) about scents and of their artistic merits in a way that defies classification, but which indirectly draws upon the extensive body of western art criticism.

The book has the major advantage of being fit to be read out of order, taking the typical form of a diary, with places and dates of entry. I find myself leafing through, returning to a page when fancy strikes, pondering for a while for meanings that take on a different nuance once I have re-sniffed one of his creations, realizing that he doesn't aim to resolve anything (like an open-ended movie, this is a book to make you think for yourself!), just to communicate his thoughts, his questions, his own maturing process. It's an invitation to a dance for two, cheek-to-cheek, rather than a carefully orchestrated performance on video for all to watch in awe.

The final chapter "Summary of Smells", an index where the author reveals a few of his tricks into producing odors  from combining two or three simple raw materials, isn't meant as a chemical cheat sheet into how his perfumes are composed, nor to be parroted by bloggers and writers; it's a game he beckons us to play so as to gain insights and prompt us to experience things anew.
His entry for OLIVE for instance reads:

"This smells describes the Mediterranean single-handedly. From black olives to olive paste, via olive oil, my nose and palate find endless connections: smells of truffles, castoreum, human smells, smells I am drawn to.  

castoreum
benzyl salicylate 

To which you can add styrax resinoid and thyme if you want to produce the taste of olive paste."

Source: thenowbook.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

Ellena's prose is tender, unpretentious, ethereal like Giono's stories or Japanese ink calligraphy, and deeply personal. Because, beyond the "search for beauty", art is defined by the purposeful will to communicate something from creator to public, and that something can never be non personal. The more impersonal and all-encompassing that message tries to be, the less artistic the end result becomes. And this is the gist (and gift!) of Ellena's diary...

As the oracle would say "make your own nature, not the advice of others, your guide in life." [1]

The Diary of a Nose: A Year in the life of a Parfumeur 
by Jean Claude Ellena 
Rizzoli ExLibris, an imprint of Rizzoli New York 
ISBN: 978-0-8478-4042-7 
Hardcover 24.95$

[1] oracle given to Marcus Tulius Cicero by the Delphi oracle in 83 BC

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfume Books reviews & news

Frederic Malle Angeliques sous la Pluie: fragrance review

The thin snowflakes came down the skies unexpectedly early yesterday morning, silk confetti melting softly on the wet streets as a pale sun was shining beneath the fluffy clouds. Maurizio Pollini was touching the clavier on the background in a beloved Polish composer's Nocturnes. The silence was deafening, perfect in its standstill position. It felt like one of those moments when long-eared, soft furred dogs gather their paws, bow down their head and sigh with a mix of contemplative happiness and resignation to the mysteries of the world around them. I was reminded of the tender, contemplative emotions sweeping over me upon discovering Angéliques Sous La Pluie (2000, Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle) for the first time.

This bitterish and cool fantasy of gin & tonic was pure like a snowflake, tingling at the back of the throat like the cold air of the tundra. Juxtaposed next to the warm spiciness of the carnal Musc Ravageur, the soie sauvage Hitchcockian elegance of Iris Poudre or the camphorous floral lushness of Carnal Flower it seems a breed apart. It's the sort of thing to foreshadow an atmosphere or reflect a mood, rather than a pronouncement on the wearer, never crying for attention.

Angelica is a plant with a nose-tingling essence, peppery in a way like peppercorns are, bracing but less pungent and greener. Perfumer Jean Claude Ellena picked a small bunch of angelica and put it in his pocket after a visit to the garden of fellow perfumer Jean Laporte after the rain. Inspired by this fleeting whiff of the still dewy angelica bouquet, Jean-Claude Ellena's fragrance plays out like a chamber music arrangement. There is the petrichor scent of rain falling on dry earth, a green herbal tonality without moss or grass. One detects the spicy, tonic notes of angelica leaves mixed with some bergamot freshness, juniper berries and citrusy coriander, softened by a hint of musk, soft non sweetened amber and cedar wood. Its deceptive softness is non vanillic. Its prettiness devoid of flowers. There is a hint of violet like in Soivohle's Violets and Rainwater but that's it.

As Malle himself puts it: "Angéliques sous la Pluie is a perfume whose charm stems from the originality of its mix and from the free hand of its author. The perfect balance and fragility of Angéliques sous la Pluie, like the drawing of a great artist, is what makes it so beautiful. As proof of his great wisdom, the artist knew when to stop before destroying its charm. This first collaboration with Jean-Claude Ellena was thus a lesson in humility".

Angéliques Sous La Pluie is perfectly fit for men or women, lasts on a sostenuto sotto voce, wears as fine in wintertime as it does in the dead of summer and is typical Ellena in style; refined, dry, personal, non condescending, never obvious, worth revisiting to catch new glimpses each time, requiring a mind that is attuned to silence and simplicity of line rather than opulence and clatter. And all the better for it. Angéliques Sous La Pluie –– "a splash of emotion".

Available as 50ml spray for 140$, 3x10ml travel sprays for 95$, 100ml spray for 195$ on the official Malle site.

Hermes Jour d'Hermes: fragrance review & insights into fragrance creation

Things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other.
~Euclid

photo by AlberCAN (copyright 2012) for use on PerfumeShrine

By guest writer AlbertCAN

Simple elegance is often the hardest to grasp. The emphasis here, of course, lies in its sophistication: the fusion of ideas being so purposely concised and delicately tailored that the communication becomes deceptively simple. Ideas just float on their own merits, process gone and vanished. For years now, for instance, many have quipped that the great Anna Pavlova probably danced her famous “The Dying Swan” program as party entertainment, but judging by the technical brilliance, intricate grace and athletic poise displayed by prima ballerina Ulyana Lopatkina below I wouldn’t classify it as a simple dance: to even stand on pointe for nearly four minutes while delivering all the nuanced emotions? Not ever for the faint hearted.

I was pondering all these intricacies almost three weeks ago when I was introduced to Jour d'Hermès (2012), the latest feminine fragrance by master perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena, and when I was informed of the project scope I was very surprised by its seemingly effortless premise: a modern soft floral, radiance from dawn to dusk. No emphasis on particular notes. No PR blitz upon the initial launch. Boutique only until Spring 2013. All against the grain.

The name is also deceptively simple, another subtle risk. Jour d'Hermès (pronounced roughly as ‘joor dair-mess’), though perfectly fitting with the brand’s chosen theme for 2012—Gift Of Time, or Le temps devant soi—isn’t the most accessible name for non-francophones and does require a reasonable grasp of the language. The name does, on the other hand, complement the core theme* of Hermès perfectly: the land and the sky. Case in point? The two best-selling scarves: “Brides de Gala” (on the left) on saddlery and “Astrologie” (below right) on the zodiac constellations—of the land and the sky. Olfaction wise, since we already have the masculine Terre d'Hermès (2006) representing the earth, and since Ciel d'Hermès would have been too obvious, here we have Jour d'Hermès representing the other half of the universe—though I should point out that the above-mentioned names are slightly subversive, with la terre being a feminine word in place of a masculine fragrance and le jour being a masculine word in French. One might think little of the seemingly archaic French noun gender categorization, but I should point out that the name “Calèche” was originally chosen in part because it is a feminine word in French—la calèche. Still, I’m ahead of myself: more on that front later.

The fragrance is yet another intricacy in disguise: Jour d'Hermès opens with quite a tart grapefruit element (quelle surprise) followed immediately by a soft verdancy—all against a floral murmur. Long-time readers of Ellena’s olfactive works would also notice a fruity syntax to the mix, though purposely kept non-specific with a soft sensual mango bias as the fragrance wears on. (The master perfumer has mentioned his partiality to the scent of mango in his book “Journal d'un parfumeur”.) Then in comes the radiance and the scent deftly draws out a delicate array of flowers: sweet pea and gardenia most prominently, although I have also observed a quote of the translucence lifted from Vanille Galante (2009), the lilting orange blossom in Iris Ukiyoe (2010). Further, if one can excuse my impertinence: with the help of the IFRA-sanctioned ingredient label—and my humble training in perfumery—I can also deduce the following floral elements: lily of the valley, modern hybrid rose, tuberose, ylang ylang, jasmine—although these elements are utilized in such a quasi-deconstructed manner that Ellena the magician here only shows an whiff of the ideas. It’s a dawn-kissed, dewy garland—not a Floriade by any stretch of the imagination. The overall structure of the fragrance is kept clean and tailored; the diffusion pattern is built with a purpose; sillage modern, sensual and very long-lasting.

The contradiction of this maximizing minimalism is worth pondering here. This is a luminous floral built under and only under the aegis of our time: three decades ago this idea of floral barraging would have been a Maupassant Realism, as testified in “First” (1976) by Van Cleef & Apels, another Ellena creation; a mere decade ago J’Adore (1999) by Christian Dior with its coquettish charm fronted by the saccharine champaca and violet. Jour d'Hermès is unapologetically floral at heart but decidedly anti-FlowerBomb.

Which begs the question: how does Jean-Claude Ellena manage such sustained flurry of floralcy in flight without all the burdensome cliché of heft often associated with the genre? Without the help of gas chromatography (out of the respect of the master perfumer, really) I would offer a possible hypothesis after a careful examination of his interviews and writings.

I have already mentioned the use of sweet pea, which Ellena has devoted a spirited entry in his “Journal d'un parfumeur” (2011). My English translation of the passage in question offers a glimpse to his art.

                                                                                                       Cabris, Wednesday April 14, 2010
Sweet peas, when in bouquet, remind me of ruffled flamenco dresses. The flower has graceful petals and has the appearance of organdie. They do not have a determined smell, but a scent that hesitates between rose, orange blossom and Sweet William, with its touch of vanilla. I threw in seven components that seem necessary to sketch the smell. One, two, three attempts to balance the proportions, to which I added a carnation note to the fourth test to correct myself again. The fifth test seems appropriate. I have a sketch of smell with which I can start a perfume.

SWEET PEA (FIFTH DRAFT)
phenylethyl alcohol               200
Paradisone ®                      180
hydroxycitronellal                 50
Rhodinal                           30
acetyl isoeugenol                  15
orange blossom (abs colorless)     15
cis-3 hexenol                       5
phenylacetic aldehyde 50%           5
______________________________________
                                   500

Diluted at 5% in perfumery alcohol at 85°.

While it’s not certain whether Ellena adopted the exact sweet pea accord above for his latest feminine fragrance the olfactory essay is of interest. The accord is emblematic due to its hologramatic nature: the nuance of the gentle flora is evident, yet within there’s also a radiant magnolia (Paradisone), a splash of lily of the valley (hydroxycitronellal), a boutonnière of carnation (acetyl isoeugenol), a blade of fresh luminous verdancy (cis-3 hexenol) and a whiff of tartness (Rhodinal) for good measure—not to mention the orange blossom absolute and the frilly rosy touch from phenylethyl alcohol. As an avid gardener who has harvested his share of sweet peas I must say Ellena is shockingly spot-on with so few ingredients.

Within the same book Ellena’s thoughts on gardenia is even more sparse. Again my English translation:

Gardénia

aldehyde C-18 prunolide
styrallyl acetate
methyl anthranilate

For the scent of gardenia I prefer that of Chanel because it does not smell like the flower but happiness. The odour of gardenia is a drama between jasmine and tuberose.

Compared to the natural scent the gardenia accord above does not have the notorious mushroom lilt simply because of the absence of the tiglates. (The stryrallyl acetate, itself smelling like tart rhubarb, may have also given Jour d'Hermès the verdant tinge.) Yet what does the master perfumer meant when referring to “a drama between jasmine and tuberose”? Let’s break down the individual accords from the master perfumer:

Jasmine
benzyl acetate
Hedione
clove bud oil
indole
methyl anthranilate

Tuberose
aldehyde C-18 prunolide
methyl anthranilate
phenylethyl alcohol
benzyl salicylate

Thus elements from both are appearing in the gardenia accord, although our Elena Vosnaki has also made the following observation: "Methyl anthranilate (orange flower and ylang-ylang in low concentration, grape in high concentration) also produces very popular Schiff's Bases for a variety of floral effects, when added to aldehydes. No surprise in its being featured so much!"

Based on the info above I can deduce that Jour d'Hermès doesn't have the notes listed in part because the ‘notes’ are all connected together: sweet pea into magnolia, magnolia helping the orange blossom, orange blossom into tuberose, tuberose into gardenia. And certainly the Paradisone is known to create a radiant effect, as per both perfumer Arcadi Boix Camps and master perfumer Alberto Morillas. Under this manner Ellena, though clasping onto his aesthetics firmly, is to me also taking a page out of the notebook from old master perfumers of the 20th century such as Francis Fabron, despite obviously going after vastly different olfactory effects: very short but self-contained formulas with each 'note' sharing a set of chemicals so the elements are tightly woven as possible.

After all, what’s the point of naming all the notes in Jour d'Hermès when all the ingredients are synced to perform as one, in calibrated harmony?

I have mentioned that Jour d'Hermès is quite long-lasting, and much to my intrigue it works very well as a unisex fragrance. The use of the pricey muscone, itself a creamy modern musk, does help coaxing flowers to a more prolonged bloom...

(Hidden in the drydown I do very much suspect the use of honey absolute in conjunction with the musk, since the diffusion is such positively radiant. Oakmoss extract is also used, not at the forefront of the story by any stretch of the imagination but enough for me to see maybe classified by others as a modern chypre floral.)

...To test my hypothesis I ended up wearing Jour d'Hermès for two days straight, and on my skin it’s becomes a soft unisex fragrance. And given that Terre d'Hermès can work on the right woman perhaps the gender confusion among the two French nouns (le jour, la terre) isn’t so random after all: Ellena does believe the freedom in fragrance categorization among genders—perhaps the names are a reflection of that belief as well, that fragrance shouldn’t be gender assigned but completely up to the taste of the individual. And given the marketing scope of the latest offering I have good reasons to believe that the ray of light is being granted in the name of personal freedom, freedom in the name of simple elegance.

Hermès Jour d’Hermès is available in 50 and 85 ml Eau de Parfum, and in a 125 ml refill. It’s available now exclusively in Hermès boutiques and will go into wider distribution early next year.

*Editor (Elena's) Note: Jour d’Hermès was presented to the world in late November 2012 in Delphi, Greece (as seen here), the default spot of LIGHT worship. The god of the oracle, Apollo, has  no doubt shed a ray of sunshine on the perfumer and his works. It remains to be seen whether -to borrow a Nietzsche reference- the next fragrance, tackling the Dionysian this time, will be Nuit d’Hermès and presented in Arcadia. I'm throwing this to the mix as an idea to the Hellenophile people at  Hermès!

Photo, from top: Jour d'Hermès and “Journal d'un parfumeur”, photo taken/copyright by AlbertCAN; Uliana Lopatkina in “The Dying Swan”, photo via Tumblr; “Brides de Gala” scarf by Hermès; “Astrologie” scarf by Hermès; cover of “Journal d'un parfumeur” by Jean-Claude Ellena; Jour d'Hermès illustration via Hermes.com