Lolita Lempicka eau de parfum by Lolita Lempicka: fragrance review

The playing field of fairy tale and dangerous complicity has brought us the poisoned apple. THE emblematic symbol of sexual provocation, thanks to Eve and the serpent, literally or metaphorically poisoned-laced apples have featured in a cohort of fairy tales to suggest a provocation leading to knowing one in the biblical sense; just not spelled out for kids' sake, you know.

via lulufrost.tumblr.com

Apple shaped bottles in perfumery are many, from Nina Ricci's 1952 fittingly named Fille d'Eve to Joop's All About Eve. The most recognizable ones are the Poison fragrances issued by Dior, the original cunningly colored to look like a cursed object. Hypnotic Poison amongst the line-up purposefully recalls the tale of Snow White, with its demonically bittersweet almond in the top note, which suggests something dubiously edible; would he bite or would he not?

It is the irony of the gods of perfumery that Annick Menardo is the driving force behind not only this bittersweet Angelica's Ring of a scent, but also of the second most popular fragrance in an apple-shaped bottle. Lolita Lempicka original eau de parfum was the first Angel-spawn to deviate from the Parisian amusement fair of chocolate-patchouli and cotton candy froth into an arpeggio that played pipes in the far away forest.

Beckoning you ever closer into the danger zone, with its violet heart candied with licorice, and shaded by intricate coils of climbing ivy which threatened to imprison you. It smells medicinal and weird. But also oddly appealing!

Not coincidentally, the apple has been a reference for Menardo herself who has confessed being introduced to perfumes via another, contrastingly innocent and tame fragrance by Max Factor. She puts a hint in her work here and there. In Lolita Lempicka EDP she overdosed the licorice with its anise-like tonalities to hide the juiciness of the apple in order to render a perversely mischievous nymph that entices you...just like Eve. It plays the little girl, but she's corrupted by the knowledge of the biblical sense. As marauders lie in ambush for a victim, so do bands of perfumers apparently.

Serge Lutens Jeux de Peau: fragrance review & draw

Horace had written* referring to his diet: "Me pascunt olivae, me cichorea, me malvae" ("As for me, olives, chicory, and mallows provide sustenance"). I don't know if I could supress my gluttony for "all the perfumes of Arabia" into a diet of only a few well-chosen ones, but Serge Lutens has a way into tempting me. Jeux de Peau, his newest (upcoming for the US) launch, is no exception. With vivid contrasts and a fascinating plot via Daedalean alleyways, it proves that the Master is still producing fragrances that can surprise and excite.


Jeux de Peau (pronounced Zø de POH) aka Skin Games, a fragrance for both genders, was supposed to smell of buttered toast, recalling Serge's quick run to the boulangerie across the road to pick up a baguette: "It gets me back to the 'don't forget to pick up the bread on the way back from school!' At the boulangerie at the end of the road, its captivating odour and its blond and warm light, a golden moment..." says Serge. Well, naughty, naughty Uncle, this is not what one would expect! The mercurial Serge actually hints at the humanity of the fragrance when he provocatively says "Eat, for this is my body"; especially if we consider that some human skins do smell like bread, the "dough" impression being a Ph variance.

Not that that this cryptic game would be unusual for any fan; in fact the fascination with the newest Lutensian opus comes exactly by its surprising character, at once a part of the Lutens-Sheldrake canon and a little apart; it's new and at the same time familiar, like seeing the photographs of antecedants and trying to pinpoint what part of the genetic roll of dice resulted in similarities with one's own offspring.
Starting to break down the composition of Jeux de Peau much talk has been conducted about the "burnt" note of pyrazines [see this lexicon on perfume effects according to notes/ingredients for definition] but I remain sceptical: Jeux de Peau doesn't really smell burnt or heavily roasted; more milky-spicy-golden in the sandalwood goodness that was Santal Blanc. It has a pronounced celery-pepper opening note, much like Chypre Rouge did, a trait that will certainly prove controversial, coupled with delectable milky-buttery notes which almost melt with pleasure on skin. The celery effect ~celery seeds were a common element in Mediaeval French cooking~ lasts for only about 5 minutes seguing into the main course: the buttery accords, alongside a distinctive, very pleasant chicory note.
Chicory, a bitterish-spicy smell, is a profoundly clever "note", if I am correct in surmissing it was the centre of the Jeux de Peau creation all along: It was substituting coffee in WWII, which might account for some of the memories of Serge, but it also evokes beer because producers add some in their stouts to lend flavour. Beer is so close to bread in olfactory terms that it's enough to put some on a pot on the stove for your guests to be fooled into thinking you're baking your own bread! (Not that you'd resort to such tricks, or would you?) Plus chicory root is 20% inulin which is very similar to starch. So the bread connection is there all right!
Immortelle/helichrysum notes (caramelic maple & spicy fenugreek facets) are allied to the familiar candied-dried fruits (apricot mainly, simply lovely!) which perfumer Chris Sheldrake has been respinning in novel and delecious combinations for Lutens ever since the inauguration of the Palais Royal niche line in 1992. This complex stage in Jeux de Peau by Lutens is sustained for a long, long time; it reminds me of rich Byzantine mosaics; tiny tesserae of glazed material surfacing and receding according to the angle from which you're viewing it.


If you like the core accords of Féminité du Bois or Boxeuses, you will probably detect them easily in Jeux de Peau. But the two diverge in other ways: there's no familiar plum, not much cedar, nor leather (as in the case of Boxeuses), while we can see that wheat & barley are evoked throughout that warm "gourmand" woody. If Serge hadn't mentioned he was inspired from his forays to the baker's clutching the baguette for home, we wouldn't be so insistent on searching for toast; a whiff of Crusader's pain au four it is and delectably so I might add.

If you're wondering if Jeux de Peau would suit you, apart from the wise advice I can offer to always sample a Lutens any fragrance ~just in case~ I can suggest that if you're a lover of other intellectual oriental woodies such as Like This by Etat Libre d'Orange or Tea for Two by L'Artisan, you have high chances of liking this one very much as well. It's rather odd that Jeux de Peau launches in spring, when it's the sort of snuggly fragrance you'd want to put on while wrapped in a cashmere blanket watching nonchalantly the logs in the fireplace change colours from brown to vermillon to bright red to ashen, but Lutensian fans are not very season-specific anyway.

A sample of the upcoming Jeux de Peau will be given away to a reader. State in the comments what is your most fragrant memory from childhood not involving actual fine fragrance and I will pick a random winner. Draw is open till Friday midnight.

Jeux de Peau belonging to the export range of oblong bottles is out in France as we speak (79 euros for 50ml Eau de Parfum), but will launch internationally on March 1st. The Perfume Shoppe in Canada is already taking pre-orders.

*Odes 31, ver 15, ca 30 BC

An intelligent essay on the scent, in French, on Ambre Gris. Photograph in black & white Le Petit Parisien by Willie Ronis via Art is not Dead. Bottle pic via duftarchiv.de
Disclosure: Initial sample was kindly procured by my reader Emanuella. Another sample was later sent by Lutens as part of their mailout, so that is given away to the readers.

Bulgari Jasmin Noir: fragrance review

What does it say if a perfume writer ~who is supposed to stay atop trends and new things (or at the other end of the spectrum occupy herself with rhapsodising over classics and unearthing rare vintages)~ decides to write about a perfume by Italian jewellers, coming out as recently as 2008 and semi-forgotten amidst the plethora of new releases? Is it a testament to delayed reflexes, that upon revisiting Jasmin Noir by Bulgari (or Bvlgari if you want to keep the Roman spelling) several months after its launch, I found myself captivated mid-bottle by its rich, woody, full-bodied and curvaceous silhouette? At this point, I cannot deny the pull that a mainstream but really well-made fragrance can exert upon me.

After a handful of maudlin and wall-paperish "me too" scents by the brand in recent years, like Omnia Green Jade, Voile de Jasmin or Bulgari Aqua, I didn't really expect waves; yet I was pleasantly surprised to find myself curiously attached to my classic bottle which reprises the elegant, frosty glass lines of Bulgari Pour Femme, only this time in lacquered black. Perfumers Carlos Benaim and Sophie Labbée at IFF nailed it this time around: The composition smells rich and classy, with a succulent hint, but not too floral and rather subdued, fulfilling the criteria of modern consumers in the 25-40 group to which they originally catered for. A concept well visualised in the commercials featuring Kate Moss with serious bling on her neck. But the fragrance stands on its own two feet, away from any industry brief or statistical focus group aspirations.

If Jasmin Noir isn't more sung by the perfume trobadours, it has to do with a certain incongruity between name (and therefore promise) and delivery: This is a floral woody rather than the reverse, with segments taken from both Sensuous by Lauder and Tom Ford's Black Orchid, while the emphasis is neither on jasmine nor on any sinister noir proclivities. Bulgari themselves say: "Jasmin Noir is a flower of the imagination. It is white, immaculate, and conveyes pure mystery, revealing intriguing sensuality at nightfall". And I would have to agree with the imaginative part as well as the sensuous promise, if not the white descriptions which leads one to expect a white floral.
Bulgari's Jasmin Noir starts on the sparkling green note of budding gardenia (full of the piquant, fresh note of styralyl acetate) opening into a vague ~not very identifiable~ fresh jasmine vine accord which soon exits the scene. Floral haters shouldn't be frightened, nor should indole-phobics pause: this is the equivalent of a thriller by Roman Polanski; blink and you miss the scary parts, it's so subtle. Nutty and lactonic (milky) accents and the dominant, permeating, pleasant scent of licorice then appear, muting the floralcy and embracing the whole in a different sort of sensuality than that of white flowers; cozy, youthful sexy, very modern with a good dose of aromachemical Ambroxan, but not insipid. This stage lasts at sotto voce (we're talking quite discreet sillage here) almost for the duration of the fragrance's presence on skin, taking a subdued ambery-vanillic haze, flou and sustained for a long, long time. The perfect "I miss your scent on the sheets" kinda of fragrance...

People who like Tom Ford Black Orchid Voile de Fleur for its emphatically feminine floral notes (tuberose) and also like the woody backdrop of the original Black Orchid but are seeking to branch out a bit, are advised to try Jasmin Noir by Bulgari. Lovers of Guerlain's 90s classic Samsara who want something more subdued and youthful might find in Jasmin Noir a helpful ally. Men who are not averse to a little sweetness (and anise) with their cologne and like the idea of Lolita au Masculin might steal a spritz or two as well.

Bulgari Jasmin Noir notes:
Top: green sap, gardenia petals
Heart: jasmine sambac absolute, satiny almond
Base: precious wood, licorice, tonka bean absolute.

Jasmin Noir is available in Eau de Parfum concentration from major department stores and from bulgari.com.



Pic of sexy Greek actress Zoe Laskari via movie-musical-world

Lily Bermuda Petals, Somers, South Water: fragrance reviews

The brand with the little crest is called Lily Bermuda and is (not so predictably these days) a Bermuda-based perfume house established in 1928. The people there are quite proud of the heritage, since they have been producing scents based on the essences that aromatize the air of the isles for a long time. The latest trio, reviewed here today, was conceived to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Bermuda: "Each fragrance was created to evoke a different time in the Island’s history since it’s beginning". I admit at least one of them had me murmuring tunes to myself under my breath with much gusto all day, so I am going to start with that and work onwards.

Petals is a feminine fragrance encased in pink packaging. If by "pink" you're left with the impression you'll be dealing with a Barbie-esque tutti-frutti cocktail from which is there is no escaping, think again. Surprisingly, upon sampling Petals, I realised we're dealing with exactly what the official information is promising: "a luminous fragrance, an alluring white floral bouquet, elegant and truly feminine".
Petals is feminine, no question about it, and although quite sweet, its tour de force isn't the sugar-tooth of bonbons, but the nectarous quality hiding in the heart of its white blossoms. Its appeal is like that of Natalie Wood at the time she was dating Warren Beatty. On me the citrusy fruit disappears almost immediately giving way to the rich flowers and the diaphanous base notes. In Lily Bermuda Petals the orange blossom is honeyed and layed on thick instead of fresh (think of the treatment in Fleurs d'Oranger by Lutens), the honeysuckle and oriental jasmine take on heady directions, yet the scent is not at all heavy although it wafts satisfactorily and lasts exceptionally well (all through the night on me and discernable upon waking up). Despite its "timeless" promotion, I feel it is instantly identified as modern, as it doesn't possess the dirtier (costus, real musk...) or earthier (moss, patchouli...) aspects upon which several classics were built decades ago. But it makes you want to break out a prom-like 60s dress and sing in front of the mirror "I feel pretty, oh so pretty; I feel pretty and witty and gay!" , which is rather priceless in its way, won't you agree?
Petals encompasses notes of: clementine, mandarin, night blooming honeysuckle, sparkling seringa, watery orange blossom, ylang ylang, jasmine sambac, white musk, white amber. Available in many sizes starting with 15ml/1oz (how utterly cute!)


Somers is a masculine fragrance in dark blue packaging. The name derives from a visit a long-time ago: "Sir George Somers taking his first step onto our fragrant Island and being enveloped in the natural odors of this picturesque paradise". Somers accordingly opens with refreshing notes of bergamot, Bermuda cedar and cardamon, wandering into delicious notes of licorice, black tea, nutmeg, coriander, geranium and sage. The finale is warm with gaiac wood, olivewood bark, incense, blonde suede and amber. Additional notes include grapefruit, orange blossom, ginger and vetiver. Cedar and licorice/aniseed form the main impression, which is interesting in its way, one contrasting with the other their austere and more sensuous aspects; nevertheless I was pining for that olivewood bark promised, which I so love due to my cultural heritage. It's a quite wearable and likeable scent and could be confiscated by women too as it has a cozy Lolita Lempicka vibe with a tad more woods and what smells like benzoin, but (perhaps because of that familiarity) not as distinctive as I would have personally liked. Somers is available in 100ml of Eau de Toilette.

South Water is a unisex fragrance in light blue packaging. Meant as a shared fragrance available in 100ml of Eau de Toilette to be splashed on for freshening up, it accomplishes that on the humid days we're facing still with the familiar, almost Pavlovian relaxing reflex of "suntan lotion smell"; that memory redolent of Coppertone, coconut rum and Cherry Cola with a spattering of sea salt right out of an ocean-dip clinging on skin still (Salty accents have formed quite a trend as we discussed previously). It's a bit more coconutty than I am comfortable with on a regular basis, but not to the point of it being sickening which is always a concern with that type of scent. I don't really smell fruits, nor is it too powdery as it would have been incured by the notes and I am sure it will be included in "beachy scents" lists in the future, I predict it will be popular.
South Water lists sun-drenched tangerine with ozone breeze, coconut milk, juicy guava, gardenia petals, cactus sap, sea salt and white musk. Additional notes include blackcurrant, aniseed, violet, orris, coumarine, vanilla and tonka bean.

The rest of the Lily Bermuda line includes~
For the ladies: Pink, Coral, Lily, Oleander, Jasmine, Passion Flower, Frangipani, Paradise, and Fresh Water (unisex), and
For the Gents: 32°N, 64°W (the topography of Bermuda obviously), Cedar, and Navy.

The fragrances (with some exceptions) come in various sizes starting with 15ml/1oz, making them especially handy to choose from! A Library sample box (samples are generously sized, I might add, allowing about three wearings easily) will set you back 25$.

You can see the selection on the official Lily Bermuda site which is very nicely designed and shop online.

If interested in sampling all three scents, drop a line in the comments and I will pick a winner!

In the interests of full disclosure, I was introduced to the line through a promotion. Natalie Wood pic via The art of staying up all night blog

Absinthe Series 4: Fragrances of Anisic Goodness

Today we continue our project of organising fragrances with anise inspired by one of the herbs that aromatize absinthe and offer a distinction between those who draw upon aniseed and those who explore facets of the chinese spice star anise. The two are not interchangeable:

"Aniseed is a member of the parsley family and native to the Eastern Mediterranean. Nowadays it grows in all warm climates. Anethole is the oil that accounts for the distinctive sweet-licorice taste. Both the leaves and the seeds have this flavoring, which is used in breads, cakes, and confections in parts of Europe and the Middle East, in curry and seafood dishes in India and neighboring countries, in various dishes in Southeast Asia, and as the flavoring of such alcoholic drinks as the French pastis and Greek ouzo.[...]Star anise is the fruit of a small evergreen tree native to southwest China, and now also grown in Japan and Southeast Asia. The plant puts out a small star-shaped fruit with (generally) eight points, and a seed is contained in each of the points. Star anise can be used whole as a flavoring, its seeds can be used as a flavoring, and both can be ground. It is the dominant flavor in Chinese five-spice powder. It has been used in Asia to flavor pork and chicken, in teas, and as a seasoning.[...]Like aniseed, its flavor comes primarily from the anethole oil, but it is considered more bitter than aniseed".

~Through Ochef.com

Scents with Anise and/or Licorice:

*Aimez-moi by Caron: A violet fragrance on a powdery vanillic backdrop, it profits from the slightest touch of anisic piquancy to lift it from the usual.

*Alpine Lily by Crown: Anise leaves over a floral composition, resulting in a fresh and young interpretation. Very "clean".

*Ambre Sultan by Serge Lutens (nose Chris Shledrake): This back to the roots of oriental perfumery legend has the interlay of various herbs, such as bay, oregano and anise which give it a dusty, kitchen cupboard smell that deviates from the crowd-pleaser little ambers out there. Individual and unsurpassed it has been likened to a woman's sexual juices. You have been warned!

*Anice by Etro (nose Jacques Flori): The success of Anice is that it maintains its headstrong persistence in smelling anisic till the very end. According to Luca Turin the heart uses cis-jasmone (which has a smell of fennel and contributes to natural jasmine aroma) along with fennel seed and a macrocyclic musk that also has an anisic ambrette character. Whatever! It's a lovely fragrance if you yearn for that liquor-like note.

*Anisia Bella in Aqua Allegoria line by Guerlain: Another single-minded fragrance that focuses on smelling mostly like anise and a rather pleasant example of the Aqua Allegoria line before all the flavours of chewing gum took over.

*Après l'ondée by Guerlain (nose Jacques Guerlain): What is it that makes this so nostalgic, trembling with delight after the shower which its name hints at? Is it its heliotropin soft powderiness married to melancholic iris like a smooth-faced Ophelia contemplating the joys of the river? No, it's probably what is more culinary and which confirms that reputation of Guerlain as a grand chef of French perfumery: provencal herbs and spices of which anise is more pronounced give a glimpse of the sun forming a rainbow over dewy petals. A 1906 classic.

*Acqua e Zucchero by Profumum: A scent that one would be hard pressed to detect anise, it combines orange blossom to berries and vanilla to render a sweet fragrance. The slight hint of anise/licorice is a welcome inclusion, but the whole is too close to Pink Sugar to justify the price.

*Black Annis by BPAL: In the familiar tone of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab scents, this is seriously strong and pungent with the eponymous aroma and what seems like catty civet. Part of the Diabolus series with notes of "damp cave lichen and oak leaf with a hint of vetiver, civet and anise".

*Confetto by Profumum: Very sweet almond fragrance with a touch of anise. I am amazed though that it demands such high prices for something that Hypnotic Poison or even Jour de Fete does better.

*Duel by Annick Goutal (nose Annick Goutal, Isabel Doyen): One of the more individual fragrances in a line of limpid and lucid watercolours, it is a masculine with an original touch.

*Etra by Etro: A soft, aromatic composition of woods and florals, very ethereal and rather soapy on top, more shady later on with spice and cedar. The whole reminds me of eating fruity pie while sipping ouzo, which is as strange a gastronomic combination as any, but somehow works: I have seriously mellowed on the fruity note of it, I was much more dismissive before. All those horrible fruity florals out to compare must have helped.

*Hypnôse by Lancôme (noses Thierry Wasser and Annick Menardo): For something that is so obviously inspired by the recent gourmand crop following into the footsteps of Angel a touch of anise is unexpected but not enough to redeem it in my eyes. Too derivative.

*Hypnotic poison by Dior (nose Annick Menanrdo): I recall the first time I smelled it with dread: a spectator in front of me had ruined an exceptional Genet performance in an art-house theatre one evening a long time ago with the cough suryp fumes emanating from her heavy sweater. I had thus shunned it for years. Finally, a litle while ago I tested the eau de toilette in a store prepared to hate it and finally it dawned on me. It's trippy, yes, but oh so good! The anisic touch with the bitter powder of coumarin makes it soar.

*Insolence by Guerlain (nose Maurice Roucel): The old-fashioned take of L'Heure Bleue, merely dressed as lamb with a strobo light on top. Everything exterior belies its contents and I for one liked it from the very first.

*Iris Pallida 2007 by L’artisan (nose Anne Flipo): A woody iris for a very demanding price, encased like a precious vintage wine, it uses anise to highlight the dry softness of the rest of the composition.

*Jasmine de Nuit by The Different Company (nose Céline Ellena): A dirty, spicy jasmine fragrance which mesmerises by its feral power and animalic prowl. It begs to be taken on a date with naughty intentions. All this and a touch of anisic goodness too!

*Jil Sander No.4 by Jil Sander: I always liked this deep oriental from almost 2 decades ago. I don't know why I relied on decants and minis all this time. It projects, it envelops, it brings about questions as to what I am wearing.

*Krizia by Krizia: A great chyprish fragrance that is seriously underrated. A touch of anise with all that cool moss makes it supremely elegant and confident.

*L'heure bleue by Guerlain (nose Jacques Guerlain): The archetypal anisic floral, it poses an enigma for serious perfume lovers: to wear or not to wear? It's an undisputed work of art, very characteristic of both its times and the artistry of Guerlain. However I could never since find the exact formulation that made me appreciate it about 15 years ago. Which is a pity: nothing comes close to what I had smelled that glorious afternoon strolling around the perfume boutiques of my city, with all the elation of my own hard-earned money in my pocket.

*Lolita Au masculin by Lolita Lempicka: The masculine interpretation of the feminine Lolita Lempicka fragrance with a touch of violets and for me even better. It is succulent but restrained in its sugared stakes and it proves to be extremely wearable through its licorice kept in blood-sugar check.

*Lolita Lempicka and Lolita Midnight (nose Annick Menardo): One of the few fragrances in the wake of Angel to leave their own mark. Intensely liquorice-like, herbal in its pungency and with a gorgeous bottle the shape of an enchanted poisoned apple it has become a little cult of its own with a fairy tale advertising campaign. The limited edition Midnight bottle is in darker bluish hues and completely covetable. They also do some of the most darling limited editions sets every once in a while.

*LouLou by Cacharel (nose Jean Guichard): A great underrated overly sweet fragrance hailing from the 80s, heavy on cassis (a synthetic so characteristic of that decade) over plums and heliotrope, it has an aniseed top note which gives it a piquant salty-sweet air there for a second (like those bands of licorice that refuse to budge), tantalising you to smell it again and again. It helps that it evokes so influential feminine icons.

*Mandragore by Annick Goutal (nose Annick Goutal, Isabel Doyen): To me it's not particularly evocative of dark medieval practices of uprooting a magical root under the feet of hanged men. It is mostly bergamot to my nose, although a good rendition, no doubt. A slight anisic touch is very welcome and I can see this being a great choice for warm weather for both sexes.

*Perfect Twilight by Creative Scentualisation (nose Sarah Horwitz) : Violets sprinkled with aniseed. No doubt inspired by L'Heure Bleue and Apres l'ondee, but simpler, more streamlined and ergo less of an art work.

*Pink Sugar by Aquolina: The brilliance of such a juvenile concoction lies in the details. A strong liquorice-like accent on what is basically ripe strawberries buried into the plush of burnt cotton candy reverts one to a mental state of My Little Pony, but if you're above average IQ anyway it will be seen as a terribly clever turn!

*Piper Negrum by Lorenzo Villoresi (nose Lorenzo Villoresi): Mostly strong pepper to my nose with a touch of anise for good measure. It has its fans and I like Villoresi's use of pepper in his other fragrances, but this is too thick for me.

*Poison by Dior (nose Edouard Flechier): A classic oriental encased in a poisonous apple of Cinderella tale bottle, it is greatly responsible along with other usual suspects of so many people's distrust of perfume. And yet it is a grand fruity oriental which uses anise to reinforce the spicy accord which juxtaposes the rich plum, tuberose and the berries and make it an grenade for olfactory amunition.

*Pomegranate Anise Fresh Index: Like its name suggests, two notes, one fragrance. An aquatic fruity with a liquorice touch due to aniseed and weirdly enough a grapefruit top. Index describes this fragrance as 'a crisp winter kiss'. I think not.

*Quand vient la pluie by Guerlain (nose Jean Paul Guerlain): Tied to the tradition of L'Heure Bleue, more than the similarly named After the Shower (QVLP means "when rain comes") it draws upon the anisic floral composition of the former in an effort to remodernize it with a fresh lime top-note on a bed of heliotrope, iris and licorice. Lovely, if a little too sweet for me to become a signature.

*Raving by Etro: Spicy (with nutmeg) and sweet (a touch of coconut) with a salty and iodine aroma which makes it completely offbeat and unisex. It might also make a good substitute for the intense spicy oriental Kenzo Jungle L'elephant.

*Rose d'argent by Rosine: An unconventional rose fragrance with a cool anisic touch and spicy geranium notes over warmer amber. It takes some getting used to, much like Caron's Or et Noir. The antithesis of cool and warm is magnificent to experience, like drinking a glass of water after chewing a cinnamon-mint gum.

*Shiso in Leaves Series by Comme Des Garçons: A trully bizarre, therefore typical CDG scent that recalls mint leaves on which animals have smeared their furry behinds. Cumin and anise dominate after the mint.

*Simply by Clinique: Roasted cereals without being too sweet with a touch of anise-bread just like local bakeries like to make. It was destined not to be a success.

*Tarot the Chariot by BPAL: Inspired by the deck of Tarot Cards, this represents the Chariot, which I am told represents the recognition of Karmic issues. I don't know if I have some of those, but sniffing fruity florals like this makes me think maybe I do. A touch of anise might save my unredeemed soul.

*Timbuktu by L’artisan (nose Bertrand Duchaufour): A wonderfully individual unisex woody with spices and incense, utilising the rare Indian essential oil Cypriol. I like how it interplays anisic tonalities in there and remains tremendously fresh while definitely redolent of human warmth.

*Yvresse by YSL (nose Sophia Grosjman): It's hard to imagine that formerly named Champagne came out in the aqueous 1990s: it's so loud! However among Grosjman's oeuvre, it's one of those who take a classic form (fruity chypre) and give it a modern twist that somehow smells contemporary. If only it came in a more diluted form, it would have been fab! As it is, it needs good spritz control.


Scents with star anise:

*Casanova 1725 by Histoire des parfums: Naming perfumes after historical personages, especially those who have a naughty reputation is a sure instigator of interest for Perfume Shrine. We succumbed and promptly ordered a sample of Casanova, after loving Marquis de Sade 1740 when exploring Leather scents. Casanova is surprisingly airy and delicate with "head notes of Italian bergamot and lemon, grapefruit, French armoise, lavender, tarragon, and rosemary; the heart notes of star anise, lavender, and geranium, and base notes of vanilla, sweet almond, sandalwood, cedar, and amber". Nice...

*Donna by Lorenzo Villoresi (nose Lorenzo Villoresi): A musky rose with a nail products top note, it is strangely pleasant, although a little sour perhaps at times. The musky background is very fetching to me, if a little standard.

*Energising Fragrance by Shiseido (nose Claudette Bernavis): A fresh spice accord that manages to be uplifting and -yes- energising. It's quite nice!

*Fire Opal by DSH (nose Dawn Spencer Hurwitz): One is at a loss regarding the sheer choice of DSH oils and fragrances. Someone sent me this sample and it registered as a gently spicy affair worth of inclusion in this line-up.

*Fraîche Badiane by Maître Parfumer et Gantier: If you want a cool, bright summery scent to wear under azure skies, this is very pleasant. Like drinking cool lemonade while snacking on star anise-flavored cookies after a hot day in the countryside.

*Iris Nobile By Aqua di Parma: This citrusy iris is one of the most elegant around and if you're bored with irises smelling like carrots, you should try this one. The star anise gives just a hint of warmth. I love it!

*Jean Paul Gaultier Classique (nose Jacques Cavallier): Drenched in orange blossom of the synthetic variety that can become cloying, it is backed by copious vanilla and musks and it makes me wonder why it has been such a best seller all these years. It does have a great advertising campaign though, which is so witty as to render the contents of lesser importance to the eyes of the public.

*Méchant Loup by L'artisan (nose Bertraand Duchaufour): A woody oriental for men with the unusual heart of hazelnut, only it doesn't marry it to chocolate to get the perfect Nutella. Which is a shame, if you ask me...A spicy touch comes from star anise.

*Navegar by L'artisan (nose Olivia Giacobetti): A watery interpretation that doesn't go for the usual marine notes. Fresh and reminiscent of the high seas, I could wear this in summer. Notes: red pepper, ginger, lime, absolute rum, black pepper, incense, star anise, juniper, cedar wood, guaiac wood.

*Rive Gauche pour homme by YSL (nose Jacques Cavallier): Purpotedly "a warm blend of bergamot, star anise and rosemary, centered around a masculine heart of soothing lavender, geranium leaves, and clove bud, spiked with modern essences of vetiver, patchouli and Gaiac wood." Now that the feminine is not as I remember, I could make friends with this one, despite its whiff of cigarette smoke. Or is it because of it?

*Un parfum d'ailleurs et fleurs by The Different Company (nose Céline Ellena): I had reviewed it among its sister scents ending on the note that "the whole is inspired by a French style garden which if you know anything about gardening you will know is about submitting nature to man's will; although the moniker of the company is talking about an ode to the virginal purity and the tentative voluptuousness of nature". It's a pleasant citrusy floral with a subtle touch.

*Very Irresistible and Very Irresistible Sensual by Givenchy: For some reason I remain sorely unimpressed with the synthetic rosiness of both fragrances. It's good that the spiciness of star anise makes a brief appearence but does it suffice to save to day? The Sensual version adds strawberry with what seems like patchouli. I didn't need this and neither do you.

Painting Old Absinthe House (1933) by Guy Pène du Bois and Paris Rainy Days by Gustave Caillebotte, both courtesy of wikimedia commons. Pic of L'heure bleue ad through parfum de pub and of Mandragore bottle through Annick Goutal site.