Perfume Book Review: Luca Turin & Tania Sanchez The Little Book of Perfumes/The 100 Classics

Utter the names Luca Turin & Tania Sanchez and a combination of their polarising "Guide's", irrepresible wit and -equally irrepresible- snark, all rolled into one, flash into one's mind like LED-lamps that flicker between a P anode and a N cathode throughout eternity. The reason to read their newest venture isn't quite all of the above, nevertheless: Dropping the snark for a programmatically positive outlook ~The Little Book of Perfumes is all about 5-star perfumes reviews, aka "masterpieces" according to the authors~ they're not simply fawning reviews as met with in other guides, not being short on addressing serious fragrance industry issues either. (After all, if you don't know Luca is rather fond of the smell of Napalm in the morning, you don't know anything yet.)

Although the material is largely taken from the previous Perfumes,The Guide (review here and a small practical note on all the different editions here), serving as a petite compendium or a Xmas gift to spark fun discussion over the course of wine & cheese among people who raise their eyebrows up to their  paretial bone upon hearing you possess a "fragrance collection" ("say what, more than 5???? Why????"), there is a difference: For several of those 96 reviews (more of which below) there is a small 2011 addendum, mostly by Sanchez, that chronicles the evolution that time and IFRA allergens & raw materials regulations have administered to these fragrances. And this is mainly the interest for those who already own a copy of the 2008 book: Staunchy perfume enthusiasts already know most of what's to know about reformulations and search the Net for info regularly. But those who're budding in the aficion will get a kick out of getting their sentiments that "something's not quite right in the frag they loved any more" validated.

All is not bad news, though, in those addenda mentioned, even if heads at Dior almost collectively (and a couple of the PR contigency plan at Guerlain) must be cussing right & left most probably right about now (Well, not really, for the most part the authors proclaim the work rendered "as best as could be under the circumstances"). Some fragrances have in fact upgraded, if that's possible! I specifically mention 96 perfume reviews because 4 out of the 100 are hors catégorie, being reconstructions specifically for L'Osmothèque (thus making them unavailable for purchase). A couple of them featured in the "little book" are still resolutely discontinued (Yohji pour Homme and Le Feu d'Issey for instance or more recently L'Artisan's Vanilia) but hope dies last, in the Turin & Sanchez universe (And why not, I ask you? Fougère Royale 2010 AD I'm not looking at you, don't get any ideas in your silly head!).
So what's left is 90+ reviews of things every perfume enthusiast (and not only) should note down to smell sometime.

The new material includes a foreword by Tania Sanchez (written in good pace perfumista-style and ringing very true) and an essay on the Osmothèque by Luca Turin (in his trademark eloquent polemic, mixing music metaphors and similes which caress the cerebral cortex); there are four reviews of long-lost, beautiful Osmothèque perfumes the authors tested during a presentation on perfume by the brilliant Patricia de Nicolaï, curator of the Osmothèque, at the French Embassy in Washington, DC, organized by Smithsonian Associates. "We give you L’Origan, described by me by LT’s request, and Chypre de Coty, Emeraude and Iris Gris, described by LT at my request" clarifies Tania Sanchez.
The top ten lists (exacted by all publishers worth their print salt, per Tania) have been updated and there is a new "Desert Island" top list for each respective author. I found the added resources & shopping short essay at the end rather meagre, personally (lots of other helpful resource guides are available online), though the Perfumed Court is hailed as a decanting service for when you can't get hold of something any other way and The Perfumer's Apprentice gets a nod for those eager to smell the raw materials themselves.(With which I would urge you should familiarise yourselves, if you're serious about this whole perfume thing)

To make things practical, I have noted down which fragrances are considered to have gotten BETTER/STAYED THE SAME in 2011 than the 2007 sample bottles the writing duo had received (in alphabetical order):

Calandre Paco Rabanne
Cristalle Chanel
Dior Homme
Fracas Piguet
Habit Rouge Guerlain
Jicky Guerlain
Knize Ten
Mitsouko Guerlain
Nahéma Guerlain
Poison Dior
Shalimar Guerlain

And these are the fragrances which are considered to have gotten (somewhat!) WORSE/CHANGED in 2011 than the 2007 sample bottles the writing duo had received (in alphabetical order). Please note, the fragrances below are still considered worthy of inclusion in the compendium of 5-stars:

1740 Histoires de Parfums
Amouage Gold
Après l'Ondée Guerlain
Bois des Iles Chanel
Bois de Violette Serge Lutens
Boucheron Femme
Chamade Guerlain
Cuir de Russie Chanel
Diorella Dior
Dune Dior
Eau de Guerlain
Eau Sauvage Dior
Givenchy III
L'Heure Bleue Guerlain
Iris Silver Mist Serge Lutens
Joy parfum Jean Patou
New York Patricia de Nicolai
No.5 eau de toilette Chanel
No.5 parfum Chanel
Opium Yves Saint Laurent
Pour Monsieur Chanel
Promesse de l'Aube MCDI (attributed to just a faulty batch, though)
The Third Man (Le 3eme Homme) Caron
Vol de Nuit Guerlain

You might have noticed that that makes it roughly 35 "updates" (I excluded a couple, because of simply announcing news of "discontinuation" such as Theo Fennel's Scent or due to ambivalence) and I expect that might get book buyers pondificating the issue. Yet interestingly, there are some surprising results, especially for some perfume lovers who have been disappointed in certain notable classics lately (Shalimar, Cristalle) and can now be enthused anew. But I won't elaborate further; you have to check it out for yourselves!
I will only add that I'm glad Tania added that necessary deterrent on Sécrétions Magnifiques for anyone who couldn't really fathom how such a brave (read: disgusting) scent entered the masterpieces collection, or anyone who might go ahead and spray some on their lapels before going out on a date or job interview, God forbid; "masterpiece" and "pleasant" are not mutually inclusive terms! (And if you disagree, what the hell are you doing reading Turin & Sanchez or this blog?)

The book circulates under two editions: One American by Penguin US, another British by Profile UK. They are exactly the same, as far as I know, but they feature a different cover, as shown on the photo (taken from Tania Sanchez with many thanks)
The US edition is on pre-order on this link. The UK edition is on pre-order on this link. Official date of release is October 31st 2011.

Frequent Questions: Perfumes, the Guide ~which book edition contains what?

People often pick up Perfumes, the Guide as a starter into getting more seriously involved on perfume. There are also those who are already into the aficion and check to see whether the snark or the praise corresponds with their own established views. For all practical purposes there are a few editions of the exact same entertaininh and informative book with minimal differences depending on when they came out which makes for some confusion, at least going by the questions appearing on perfume discussion boards. Let's see the various editions according to continent and chronological order of coming out.




First edition of Perfumes, the Guide (2008): Hardcover, blue Dawamesk/Coque d'Or bottle by Guerlain on the white book jacket.

Second edition of Perfumes, the Guide, also called Perfumes, the A-Z Guide: Paperback, contains the exact same content of the first edition, with added reviews that had previously appeared on the three Supplements that had been available through subscription at the authors' site (the first one of those was free for download) and an extention of the essays, with some updates on the "best of" lists at the end of the book.
There are two versions of the 2nd edition of Perfumes, the Guide: One for the US market, another for the European one, but they share the same content as described above.



the US 2nd edition of Perfumes, the Guide with many little bottles in colour on the cover



the European 2nd edition of Perfumes, the Guide, in black & white stripes on the cover


The above are NOT to be confused with the newest upcoming edition, reprising some material from the other book, called "The Little Book of Perfumes: the 100 Classics", which basically takes Luca and Tania on a hunt to re-smell the 100 classic fragrances they had reviewed to see (and wittily comment, of course) whether they stand up to closer scrutiny after the lapsed 3 years and perfumery changes since.

Dr.Turin on the Science of Smell

The MIT Tech, the online paper at the university Dr.Luca Turin is currently serving as a participant in DARPA’s RealNose project [it aims to simulate the mammalian olfactory system apllying the vibration theory], has an interesting short interview by Nina Sinantra with the man himself.
In it he explains how he first became interested in the research of smell, how he got inspiration for the vibrational theory from pioneers Malcom Dysonand and R.H. Wright and what he envisions/hopes for the future.
You can find the link of the interview here.

Perfumery Restrictions and Why Everything We Say in Public Matters

There is a show on Greek TV called “Proof” in which famous journalist Nikos Evaggelatos reveals the scandals of various industries by having reporters infiltrate and report back in audio and video every gory detail to the shock, repulsion and wrath of the audience. Actual names are not revealed, no one is brought to task in practice and although there is an expert’s panel and a participating audience at the studio, no specific solution is proposed at the end of the show and the issues are left hanging there.

In more ways than I would be comfortable with, the latest NZZ Folio article by Dr.Luca Turin, proclaiming “Perfumery, a hundred-year-old art, has taken a long time dying, but on January 1, 2010 it will be officially dead”, reminded me of that sensationalist approach. The issue has been already addressed and the restrictions had been warned of, premonitored and fought against by several writers and activists. It’s not really news, especially to Turin-reading perfume enthusiasts, since he has been writing about it at every opportunity for years. My dissenting voice is not disputing the seriousness of the latest reformulations in the industy (yes, they’re dire and largely irrational) but an attempt to bring logic to what is apparently an impassioned subject that makes us momentarily lose our powers of reasoning.

A brief recap: Regulatory body IFRA (International Fragance Association) regularly issues a catalogue of perfumery ingredients’ guidelines with which major manufacturing companies (ie.the companies who make the juice, such as IFF, Givaudan, Takasago etc. as opposed to those who commision it ~the Lauder Group, LVMH Group who owns Guerlain and Dior among others, the Gucci Group etc.) comply with, so as to minimise potential consumers’ complaints & lawsuits; a stance that has been sanctioned as law by the EU Commission at Brussels, which is the real “news”. Now let’s go back a few years: In Nov.2004 a NZZ Folio Duftnote by Luca warns about the reformulation of one of Guerlain’s masterpieces (Mitsouko). His newly-published blog "Perfume Notes" debuts in 2005, pronouncing "The End of Civilization as We Know it” concerning the changes at Guerlain: the perfume community sounds its barbaric yawp through the rooftops of the world and Guerlain PR Isabelle Rousseau's mail gets spammed. For many this was a first; oblivious to the inner workings of the industry, whatever doubt they had on the altered smell of their favourites was not directly attibuted to reformulation. But the approach created an unprecedented turmoil within the perfume community and it indirectly acted as a test of power. Although in mid-2007 the pneuma of the original Mitsouko was pronounced living on in the reformulated juice (by Edouard Fléchier) by Luca, it seems brought back to task just now in April 2009, along with other perfumes.

What changed in the interim? The perfume community came together tight as a fist (commendable), perfume blogging in general became a springboard for careers (predictable), Luca Turin close a book contract (desirable) and perfume companies have continued –or, should I say, escalated- reformulating their juices regardless on their merry way to the bank (lamentable). If anything the historical scope proves that forceful articles and community outcries do not hold the power to inflict changes in the industry!

All written word in the public domain and transmitted through a network of interested parties should have a purpose. If the purpose is not informational journalism (the issue is well known and addressed in the latest supplement of Pefumes the Guide, while the IFRA amendments are downloadable for all to see) or activism manifestation (to which we have already seen that the corporate world pays little attention to), I am at a loss on what purpose that latest article serves!
A couple of issues obscure the justified plea for change and the criticism on Dr.Rastogi: Demonization (environmentalist chemist Suresh Chandra Rastogi, Scientific Committee on Consumer Products, IFRA itself, the perfume companies), argumenting ad hominem (“I am not disputing the veracity of Dr Rastogi’s research, though it makes mind-numbingly dull reading”), argumenting ad populum ( “fragrance has no demonstrable benefit other than beauty” and “beauty cannot be measured” with which readers en masse agree), and of course first and foremost argumentum ad verecundiam, aka appeal to authority ~ that of the author himself! Is the biblical simile of The Man Who Cried Doom lost on everyone but me?

In talking about Dr.Rastogi’s work, Luca says “you discover some real but minor problem in a fragrance ingredient. Nice work and you can tell your family when you get home”. That’s the main difference between Rastogi and Turin: reach! Dr.Turin has been given a public podium read by a specific niche of readership who cares very much for those issues and who accepts any such news with fear, panic and wrath (“In another scientific paper titled “The Composition of fragrances is changing” Dr Rastogi analyses old and new perfumes and notes that his work is having an effect”). Dr.Rastogi has not. For what is worth I can see that he is Senior Reseach Scientist at the National Environmental Research Institute of the Ministry of the Environment at Roskilde, Denmark and he has a solid body of publications on allergens research, so I deduce he is serious. In all probability nevertheless his self-defence will be conducted through closed doors of university laboratories and scientific publications which, as a fellow scientist of another field, I know are only read by a specific niche: namely, scientists in the field ~ergo not the perfume enthusiasts’ community. The fight is thus unequal and it feels like a test of power. I would hate to see it as a Philippic interpreted à la Jacqueline de Romilly (ie. a raison d 'être) and thus I am giving both Luca and Rastogi every benefit of a doubt till further notice.

The 43rd IFRA amendment includes several “threatening” essences: jasmine absolute (both sambac and grandiflorum), ylang ylang, heliotropin, frankincense, eugenol and isoeugenol (spicy notes)…. . Please note nevertheless that Restricted is not the same as Prohibited. Restricted means allowed to be used up to certain levels and under certain circumstances. Costus had no chance in any form (oil, absolute or concrete), nor does masoia bark for flavours; but neither does the very new Majantol (a quite new lily of the valley synthetic). Oakmoss/mousse de chêne however somehow might and we will talk about it and other ingredients in some length in the following post.
IFRA was imposing recommendations for a variety of compounds such as oakmoss for a while, the industry following them resulting in numerous reformulations across the brands for at least 10 years now. Thus, for most modern fragrances these standards are not a big issue.

The dream of bypassing the EU by making perfumes on non-EU soil however is futile: the EU cosmetics legislation would only move to the American FDA. It's all about economics and the location of the target market of any specific house. In the words of independent pefumer Andy Tauer:

“Who are the members of IFRA? You will see that the big industry is in there, as members, like IFF*. Thus, all regulations are basically influenced by the big industry, too. There seems to be a mutual interest (commission/big industry) and the entire process is driven by industry, too. I feel that the EU Commission is just proving once more that it does not really care about economic growth, about the citizens it's representing, or small and medium -sized enterprises ( SMEs) but rather plays its game with the big ones, meeting with the who is who; thus the smaller enterprises have to either accept what comes out of these dances or perish.” *{quote from IFRA page: Since the GA of October 17, 2007, companies may also become Direct Ordinary Members of IFRA"}.

It has to do with papework as well, because several cosmetics and toiletries are produced locally for tax reasons, so not all products of one brand are produced at one place.
IlseM points out on the Perfume of Life board which is ruffled:

“IFF is being sued by hundreds of microwave popcorn factory workers because the diacetyl in their butter flavorings caused those workers to contract the irreversible lung disease bronchiolitis obliterans. I remember when Consumer Reports tested fragrances for phthalates after they were supposedly removed from all fragrances. CR found them in many of those fragrances and even in ones where
the companies claimed never to have used pthalates. In a few cases the level was even higher than when testing was done before their removal! It's hard to believe that the fragrance industry is motivated by product safety concerns.”

But the perfume community itself has responsibilities too! When perfume writing broke into the Internet and Press scene in 2005 ~an epoch seemingly as far back as the Pleistocene for most people’s memories~ there was heated discussion concerning the use or not of aromachemicals (ie.materials synthesized in the lab for use in perfumery) as opposed to natural ingredients. Authors breaking into the scene championed synthetics ~deeming them no less important or more important than naturals. I distinctly remember people saying that it didn’t matter what their perfumes were composed of, “as long as they smelled good”. Those words are now coming to kick them in the butt in a not-as-nice way. Why the delayed outcry on the axing of several natural essences? We’re catered for with what we asked!
“Smelling good” is a relative term and perfumers can create new compositions tapping as yet unknown resources and new frontiers -which might produce the classics of tomorrow; it would be both hypocritical and rushed on our part to en masse condemn everything that comes out of the labs of companies as an original composition complying to the newest regulations. After all, some fragrances which have been deliberately constructed to bypass restrictions have already gained critical acclaim. Some, like Futur by Piguet, have even been reworked with the help of Luca Turin himself! As mentioned by the president of Piguet, Joe Garces, on Sniffapalooza magazine March 19th 2009:

"With the help and guidance of the most diverse fragrance critic from across the pond who loved “Futur” from its original launch, I have been fortunate to find the final road map with his guidance to the glamorous fragrance that once was. Because of the genius and passion of Luca Turin we will present the perfect “Futur”.)

Although restrictions have really gone over the edge and this is shared as a concern by all the perfumers with whom I have been in discussion, not everything is doom and gloom. In a previous interview with Sandrine Videault, when asked about it, she told me new perfumers have no great difficulty working with the palette proposed, as they do not feel restraint in not being able to use what they have not worked with before. The creativity will change. On top of that, small niche firms can continue to use questionable ingredients in higher ratios than those complied with by the bigger firms (provided they can still source the supplies, which is the main issue. To quote Tauer again: “The restrictions imposed by EU will kill many suppliers or essential oils and absolutes, as the longer the regulations remain, the more a burden. Thus, I am faced with a narrowing market for high quality essential oils”. Outlaw is like outlaw does! So the real problem is classics coming from big brands. But those have been already seriously altered, which is something we have been witnessing for decades now and reporting. Classics will remain a museum piece by their very evanescent nature; it’s inevitable, alas. In the words of Jean Claude Ellena who is taking the modernist approach (and who makes interesting perfumes with the questionable ingredients, such as Iso-E Super, at well-below recommended ratio, bless his heart) “we can’t build the future only on history”.
If you need to do something about it you can mail Société Française des Parfumeurs: 36, rue du Parc de Clagny 78000 Versailles, France. Tél: (+33) 01 39 55 84 34 Fax : (+33) 01 39 55 73 64. Or the Commission for Cosmetics and Legal devices, mail to: staffdir@ec.europa.eu

Bottom line, obituaries might be a little premature and indignation with no suggestions offered is akin to pissing in the wind.


©Elena Vosnaki for the Perfume Shrine.

The Real Nose: Interesting Article involving Luca Turin and MIT

According to the Perfumer & Flavorist magazine, Flexitral Inc. and MIT will be in collaboration to Create the “Real Nose”.

"Flexitral Inc. (Chantilly, Virginia) will provide a principal investigator, founder Luca Turin, to the MIT RealNose project funded by DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency). According to DARPA, “The key to the program concept is that by simulating the entire mammalian olfactory system (from air intake to pattern recognition), revolutionary detection capabilities will be created. The primary goal is to create a more advanced model of the e-nose, one that can detect specific substances at increased distances and with higher accuracy (essentially, to be as reliable as a dog).” The program will utilize Turin’s well-publicized “vibration” theory of olfaction".

The full article appeared on the Jan 14th issue of Perfumer & Flavorist magazine.

Shalimar by Guerlain: Review and History Info for an Iconic Oriental

Shalimar...its sonorous name reverberates long after its smell has evaporated, conjuring images of prodigal sensuality and old-fashioned romanticism like no other; holding us spellbound in a mirage of forbidden dreams.

Beginnings With a Legal Battle No Less

And yet, the very name which means "temple of love" in Sanskrit, was jeopardised soon after the perfume's introduction in 1921! It proved to be so memorable that a rival company decided to cash in on its popularity and launch a perfume of the same name. This resulted in a legal battle which had Guerlain temporarily rebaptise the fragrance as No.90 (its number in the illustrious catalogue of the house) on their export bottles, thus rendering them rare collector's items. Luckily for us, things soon fell into their ordained place in 1925, marked as the year of the official launch, and Shalimar haunts our dreams to this day, being the progenitor of culinary fragrances with its plush vanilla but also an iconic true oriental with its deep labdanum shadows. A quintessentially French interpretation of an Oriental: It's no accident than even Ernest Beaux, no ordinary perfumer himself, complained: "When I do vanilla I get crème anglaise, when Guerlain does it he gets Shalimar!"

The Legend of the Creation & Its Times

In the best Guerlain tradition of evoking passionate love stories for most of their perfumes, Shalimar is said to be inspired by the homonymous Gardens in Lahore, Pakistan, part of which was laid by love-sick Mughal Emperor Shah Jehan in 1619, where he promenaded with his most beloved wife Mumtaz Mahal. After Mumtaz died in childbirth three years after her husband succeeded his father to the throne, Taj Mahal was built as the world's finest mausoleum in her honour in Agra. Even if this story is the brainchild of a brilliant copywriter, it resonated with the times perfectly.

Today the East stands in our Western mind as the symbol of tranquility and introspection, but in the roaring 1920s the East conjured up images of unbridled passion, exoticism, khol-eyed beauties and addictive substances. It was the time when Herman Hesse published Siddharta, the West's first glimpse of Buddhism, and F.Scott Fitzgerald The Great Gatsby, a paean to the newly established American prosperity and its pitfalls. Theda Bara had already lain the path to cinematic vamps to follow, such as Pola Negri and Clara Bow with her bloody-red dark cupid's lips immortalised on black and white vignettes, while Paul Poiret had produced his own phantoms of the harem paving the way to modern fashions. It was the time of Les Ballets Russes, set to music by Stravinsky and Poulenc with sets painted by Picasso and Georges Braque. In short Orient was meeting Occident at the seams.

 The Secrets of the Shalimar Formula

It was at this juncture in time Jacques Guerlain was intrigued by the newly popularised synthetic vanillin or Methoxy-3-Hydroxy- Benzaldehyde.
Vanillin was first isolated as a relatively pure substance in 1858 by Nicolas-Theodore Gobley, by evaporating a vanilla extract to dryness and recrystallizing the resulting solids. In 1874, German scientists Ferdinand Tiemann and Wilhelm Haarmann found a way to synthesize vanillin from coniferin, a glycoside of isoeugenol found in pine bark (they went on to found a company which now belongs to Symrise and produce it industrially). In 1876, Karl Reimer synthesized vanillin from another source: guaiacol. The laboratories De Laire bought the patent for vanillin and sold the product to Guerlain for their perfumery, first used in Jicky.
By the late 19th century, semi-synthetic vanillin derived from the eugenol found in clove oil was available in the market. After the 1920s vanillin was synthesized from lignin-containing "brown liquor", a byproduct of the sulfite process for making wood pulp, but for environmental reasons most vanillin produced today is made from the petrochemical guaiacol: most popular method today is the two-step process practiced by Rhodia (from 1970s onwards), in which guaiacol reacts with glyoxylic acid by electrophilic aromatic substitution. The resulting vanilmandelic acid is then converted to vanillin by oxidative decarboxylation. Vanillin proved to be so successful that it became the sine qua non of the food industry, resulting in its inclusion to everything, especially in American produced chocolates and beverages; a concept that might be blasphemous to the traditional Swiss and Belgian ideas of chocolate making.

Jacques Guerlain always felt that the aroma of vanilla was a powerful aphrodisiac, a notion that is almost a prerequisite of orientalia, and completely in synch with the demands of the times. So curious to see what would happen ~or so the story goes~ he dropped a large dollop of vanillin into a bottle Jicky, Guerlain's revolutionary and popular aromatic fougère. But Jicky already contained vanillin along with natural vanilla extract, as well as coumarin (a substance isolated from tonka beans in 1868, having the smell of cut hay) and linalool (a naturally occuring in over 200 species terpene alcohol, isolated here from rosewood), its trio of guardian angels in the halls of fragrance history. The secret to the medicinal, smoky yellow vanillin of Jicky, reprised in Shalimar, was the remnants of guiacol and phenols, lending an autumnal darkness to what would otherwise be a confectionary sweet cream. This is the reason that Guerlain insisted on ordering the impure grade of vanillin even when the chemical process was improved.

It was the fusion of vanillin, coumarin and opoponax along with labdanum, however, which provided the basic accord of Shalimar and accounted for its haunting aura. Thus Jacques Guerlain pushed the oriental theme of Jicky to new extremes, creating the emblematic oriental and the flagship fragrance for Guerlain. Luca Turin in his older French guide compared its place in perfumery to the Revolutionary Etude by Chopin: a classic loved and played to excess, but of which a new interpretation or a unexpected coming-across has the power to move even the most nonchalantly unconcerned.


How Shalimar Smells the Way it Does

Guerlain's Shalimar opens with the violent zest of bergamot, backed up by sweeter hesperidic accents, quickly melding into an embrace of flowers that soon set the stage for the sensual and warm undercurrent of the muskily sexy base. The bridge of patchouli and vetiver, with a touch of what seems like mediterranean thyme, provides the movement that compliments the chilly astrigent feel of the citrus, uniting the prickly, balsamic elements of the drydown with a dash of leathery quinolines (materials with a harshly pungent, bitter green scent) into a sustained basso continuo that endures for hours; on skin as well as on clothes. 

Shalimar's feminine beauty comes from the orchestration of its softly powdery and animalic elements that heave like an ample bosom: the golden dust of heliotrope, the hazy veil of opoponax, the balsamic goodness of warm, slightly spicy benzoin and Peru balsam mingling with the vanillic softness, the carnality of musk...You can wear this clad from head to toe and it still seems like you're completely naked.

Comparing Vintage & Modern Versions of Shalimar

In vintage formulations, the bergamot is brighter (and natural) and the muskiness more pronounced, rendering Shalimar a very sexy fragrance that is unashamedly and calculatingly seductive: according to Roja Dove" it was said that a lady didn't do three things: smoke, dance the tango and wear Shalimar". Never was a perfume so close to the edge of respectability while remaining within good taste. Later re-interpretations, especially in recent years, have detructed from the animalic element of the base, due to substitution of ingredients (the catty potency of civet in particular, as well as making the bergamot top synthetic due to photosensitizing concerns) and additionally conformity to modern tastes for lighter fragrances. The result nevertheless is harsher, thinner and with a less "flou", plush ambience about it.
The extrait de parfum used to be the undoubtedly supreme choice in Shalimar, the epitome of a dark oriental, while the Eau de toilette and Eau de parfum were lesser mortals; but in the interests of securing a rich-smelling vintage bottle I highly recommend the Parfum de Toilette concentration that circulated during the 1980s: it presents the best aspects of the vintage with a price-tag that can be met (bottle depicted in the above ad). Also, if you happen across an eau de cologne bottle, don't knock it: it probably comes from the 60-70s and it is as potent and as rich as a current Eau de Parfum concentration of any given fragrance.

Bottle Designs & How to Date Shalimar editions
Throughout its life, Shalimar extrait de parfum continued to be sold in its original crystal bottle with blue glass stopper the shape of a ventaille. The original urn shaped flacon was designed by Baccarat in 1925, but it was also copied and used by the glass houses of Cristal Romesnil and Pochet et du Courval for Shalimar later on. The identity of the glass can be seen at the base of the bottle: acid stamps for Baccarat or Cristal Romesnil, an entwined HP for Pochet et du Courval. For brief periods, Shalimar was featured in both the oval shaped flacon that also housed Jicky, Après L' Ondée and Liù (in the late20s and 30s) and in the Jicky "quadrilobe"-stopper squat bottle (in the 1940s) .
The parapluie (umbrella) design, a simple ribbed elongated bottle, was introduced in 1952 by Pochet et du Courval and was popular well into the 60s, with paradigms circulating into the 70s and even the 80s.
In 1968 a cylindrical bottle enameled with white and blue designs was introduced for the Eau de Toilette, while the Eau de Cologne concentration was presented in round bottles (called "disk bottles") with a round label and a pyramidal stopper along with most of the well-known fragrances of Guerlain circulating well into the 70s. The gold cylindrical bottles with the glass refill inside them were introduced in the 1980s, re-interpreted in the Habit de Fête gold-toned bottles with silver studs for the -then- approaching millenium.
In 2007, a limited edition in black was issued named Shalimar Black Mystery, but apart from the bottle, the fragrance remains the same.

Two especially valuable and beautiful presentations are:
1) the Marly editions, starting from the 1930s and continuing into the 1950s, featuring the red Marly horse logo on both bottle and box. The logo echoes the Marly marble horses on the Place de la Concorde, originally ordered by Louis XV for the park of Château de Marly and sculpted by Guillaume Coustou between 1743 and 1745.
2) the very rare Presentation Avion (airplane presentation),offered on the Air France Paris-New York flights, starting in 1960. The extrait bottle would stand up (instead of down) inside a small plinth, in which the box lid would slip over making a cover. Additionally the stopper was inside a tiny cardboard box included in the presentation and the perfume itself was sealed with a cork covered in a thin seal. Both Baccarat and Pochet et du Courval made these bottles, differentiated by their markings on the bottom of the bottle.

Last but not least, an easy rule of thumb, is that on old bottles the label simply has Shalimar surrounded by gold border, while on newer bottles there is also the name Guerlain underneath. Also, recent bottles are flatter, non fluted and with the blue ventaille done in a simpler design than before.

Notes for Guerlain Shalimar: bergamot, lemon, mandarin, rose, jasmine, orris, vetiver, heiotrope, opoponax, vanilla, civet, Peru balsam, benzoin, tonka bean, sandalwood

Flankers/derivative versions of Shalimar by Guerlain (with linked reviews & comparison with original):
Shalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar Light
Eau de Shalimar
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille
Shalimar Parfum Initial
Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau
Limited editions of Shalimar (without change in the perfume formula itself):
Eau de Shalimar Flower
Shalimar Charms edition & Eau de Shalimar Charms edition
Shalimar Fourreau du Soir
Shalimar extrait de parfum in Bacarrat quadrilobe flacon 2011 edition

Pics via parfumdepub and ebay/collector Cleopatra's Boudoir. Illustration by Erté, c.1930 via Prints.com

Perfumes the Guide gets supplemented!

It was with much interest that I just received news from Luca Turin that his ~co-authored with Tania Sanchez~ book Perfumes, the Guide, which Perfume Shrine had reviewed here, is getting supplemented. Apparently the questions of dr.Turin on what the fans would like to see had been aiming at providing reviews of more scents: which is good!

Not only there is a new site, with the beautiful Coques d'Or blue bottle by Guerlain magnified to its full resplendor, but there is also the prospect of a Newsletter, free for download from the site, issued quaterly: in September, December, March and June.
On the heels of that, we learn that the new edition of Perfumes, the Guide including the supplemented reviews from the newsletters is due in autumn 2009 for the US.
Therefore I do appreciate the fact that the supplemented reviews are free for download: I'd propose that it remains so for all four newsletters if possible.

Additionally, many readers felt that lots of energy had been spent on reviewing things that got off with a snarky (in many cases deserved) one-liner when there were significant fragrances that had escaped criticism or praise ~a weak point in the previous edition. So each newsletter is aiming to provide 100 new fragrance reviews, so that's 400 more in total till next autumn.
Some brows will get raised ("Aqua di Gio for men and Giorgio get 4 stars while Dolce Vita gets 2???" I can hear the echoes) and some heads will nod with appreciation (Del Rae Debut and Lutens latest exclusive El Attarine deservedly in my opinion getting 4 stars). And guess which controversial fragrance gets "explained" rationally.

Printers, you're on fire!! And might I also add: beatific enthusiasm and board dramas might also ensue soon enough.

And secretly, I have my own little reason for inward smiling.

Pic via Perfumes the Guide site. Commentary entirely my own (not via press release).

Vetiver Series: 3.the Historical References ~Carven, Givenchy, Guerlain

Vetiver seriously entered the consciousness of the West at some point in the 19th century, along with its brotherly Indian counterpart patchouli (brought to England in 1850), as exotic plants that smell good and keep precious silk cloths free of insects (nevertheless, vetiver iteself is not immune to the occasional beetle and to termites, in arid regions). Their noli me tangere soft message to moths and other pests made them valuable and prized and their exotic ancenstry the topic of romantic daydreaming about the edges of the Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets.
More importantly, vetiver was purposefully collected and transplanted as a potential agricultural commodity. Like so many other species, vetiver probably formed part of the colonial economic plant exchanges and, somewhere, the records probably still exist. Though these plant exchanges began in earnest around 1500, and continued an ancient tradition, two "hard" dates stand out: 1809 and 1843. In 1809, the first chemical analysis of vetiver oil was done in France on extracts from roots imported from the Indian Ocean island of Réunion, where vetiver is not native. Second, since 1843 a vetiver perfume called Kus Kus has been produced continuously in New Orleans, Louisiana, which in 1803 was purchased from the perfume-loving French by the recently independent United States, where perfumery was then considered elitist and undemocratic. Vetiver occurs in all the old French colonies, and it most likely arrived in Louisiana when it too was French ... vetiver is still most-popular there among people of French descent. The important point is that by 1843, at the very latest, vetiver was in Louisiana at the extreme terminus of global trade routes, up a river as far from home as on earth vetiver could be.
Unlike sugarcane and citrus and other Asiatic plants, Spanish scholars of the Islamic Moors have found no evidence of vetiver arriving in Europe from the Moghul Empire or earlier via greater Arabia and North Africa (and thence to the New World following the Conquistadors and their multitude of plant introductions). In fact, the one place on earth in which vetiver seems historically scarce to non-existent is the fragrance-loving Middle East and North Africa. By one hundred years ago, vetiver seems to have been fairly uniformly distributed, although perhaps thinly, across the tropics, occurring in most if not all countries. It is possible that the ‘Sunshine’ genotype was then reselected in the World War II period as a "strategic material" for perfumes, which is why we now find it almost everywhere[1]

However the story of vetiver-focused fragrances coincides with the modernisation of fragrance wearing and the artificial segregation of feminine and masculine fragrances after WWI. With its fresh, earthy and sometimes woody aroma, vetiver soon became a signal of masculinity. Although the 20s and 30s were les années folles when any bender of societal mores was seen as adventurous, daring and to be tentatively embraced if one could (enter the androgynes), the more conservative times that followed WWII and the advent of the New Look prescribed clear-cut roles: women impecably turned out, talons painted and not a hair out of place, but with a roast ready in the oven and smiling, well-behaved kids in the nursery; men suave in their conservative suits and modest ties, men about business with attache at hand, clean-shaven and well-trimmed on the nape of their fedora-adorned head, a Technicolor vision in 3D.
Those were the 50s!
It might very well be that those women were secretly lamenting their crushed dreams and the hole of fulfilment in their personal lives like a vignette from Pleasantville or a Douglas Sherk melodrama; those men might just be travelling salesmen or con-men, even Cold War agents, clad in their anonymous dark suits, in the pursuit of atomic-bomb data gathering. Never mind; their perceived image will be forever be impecably put-together, down to the last detail, combed and buffed and shining like a new Cadillac in pastel colours smirking at you from across the street.

It was at that precise moment in time when classic vetiver fragrances encapsulated all the desirable qualities of this solid, dependable manhood, minus any really sinister touch but not without their own shade of doubt like one encounters upon viewing something that is suspect of being too good to be true. In a way vetiver-focusing fragrances were a natural progression from classic Eaux de Cologne in that they smelled good, made you feel fresh and were a seal of respectability in most millieux, but not without their own little twist deep down.
Vétiver by Creed was a pre-cursor, coming out in 1948. The three most classical and stellar however had always been the ones under the names of Carven, Givenchy and Guerlain.

One of the first soliradix vetivers was Vetiver by Carven, issued in 1957. Its fresh character bode well with a generation that was optimistic after the vagaries of war, especially in view of the scandalous technological advances and eager to present a fresh outlook on life.
I didn't have the good fortune to smell the original, as it was so far back before my time and although I had a grandmother who wore Carven's Ma Griffe faithfully, my grandfather was loyal to fine fragrances by other houses (notably Givenchy's Gentleman in later years). Therefore it would be difficult to imagine the depth and clarity of the vintage composition going by only the rather pale and limp-wristed version that is circulating now -although pleasantly fresh, it doesn't ring a bell as one of the three greatest classic Vetivers.

Notes for Carven Vetiver:
lemon, lavender, jasmine, vetiver.

Hubert de Givenchy issued his own take on the refreshing earthiness of vetiver two years later, in 1959. A masculine so chic and so straight-foward to the nature of the material itself that it became his own personal favourite and a beacon in the world of perfumery. Luca Turin in his NZZ Folio column ("Grass Roots") had stated a propos:

"Experts agree that the best classical vetiver of all time was Givenchy’s, which never sold well but was kept in production because Hubert de Givenchy wore it. When he passed away, so did the fragrance. Next best was a tie between the strikingly fresh and carefree Carven and the excellent, darker and richer Guerlain. Then came the Lanvin, a bit more cologne-like, and all sorts of no-holds-barred vetivers from niche firms".

He swiftly corrected the mistake in his Perfumes, the Guide, though, while talking about the re-issued fragrance: Hubert de Givenchy hasn't passed away just yet, thank heavens, but he retired from his house in 1995, sadly marking Vétyver's discontinuation. According to Hubert's nephew, although the fragrance was greatly respected among connoiseurs, it was a slow seller and was only kept in production for the sake of his uncle.
Luckily, after 12 years, the re-issue of Givenchy Vétyver in the line Les Parfums Mythiques (relaunched classics in new uniform packaging) is reputedly excellent as it always has been; cause for rejoice among the many perfumephiles who cherish the precious tradition as well as the seal of approval communicated by Turin!
The classic, an understated, well-blended, both classic and classy fragrance starts with citrusy, cooling vetiver quickly segueing to a dusty, smokey rooty aroma, due to its use of three different varieties of the roots. It remains soft, discreet, understatedly luxurious and patrician always, mirroring its patron Hubert de Givenchy ~a man who when interviewed by Harper's Bazzar upon his retirement had exorcised vulgar modern practices with this sad -and very truthful- eulogy:

"Sure, it is head-turning,but one could not step out of the house like that. It's a false image. Balenciaga always told me, 'Hubert, the most important thing when dressing your clients is to be honest.' He was a man with total integrity. We made dresses that women could wear. Today we make dresses to sell handbags, shoes, accessories. When you go down the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, you see only store windows filled with sacks and shoes. What does that mean? I'll tell you what it means: There is no fashion."

.
Notes for Givenchy Vétyver:
Top: bergamot and vetiver
Middle: coriander and vetiver
Base: sandalwood and vetiver.
Givenchy Vétyver retails at $65 for a 100ml/2.4oz bottle.
You can read a detailed review of the re-issue on Pere de Pierre.

And then, just when the 50s were slowly exhaling and with Jean Paul Guerlain freshly on the reins of the historical house, Guerlain came up with their own version, Vétiver, which was to become the classic of the classics. It sold so forcibly well, that women everywhere were usurping it from the husbands' and boyfriends' dressers to don it on their own soft curves. But more on that shortly on a seperate review!

Pic of Russell Crowe in film Rough Magic. Pic of Givenchy Vetyver bottle and box courtesy of Fragrantica.
[1]source: the Vetiver Network

Vetiver Series: 2.the Fascinating Material

Vetiver is one of those materials of perfumery that has a particularly interesting background, not least because of its exotic lineage from the Indian peninsula and the fact that the aromatic substance is derived from its rhizomes, making fragrances focused on it a sort of soliradix (in accordance to the term soliflore for fragrances focusing on one flower). Its stems are tall and the leaves are long, thin and rather rigid, while the flowers are brownish purple, but the aroma comes from the roots much like another fascinating material: iris!
Perhaps the most charming, intelligent and arresting characteristic of vetiver though is its ability to thus absorb the very essence of the soil it's been growing into, giving a vetiver adventurer a tour of exotic locales at the sniff of its deep, inviting breath.

Vetiver (Chrysopogon zizanioides) is technically a perennial grass of the Poaceae family native to India. The name vetiver/vettiveru comes from Tamil, in which vetti means cut and veru means root. In western and Northern India, it is more commonly known as khus, which resulted in the English names cuscus, cuss cuss, kuss-kuss grass, etc. In perfumery we often see the older French spelling vetyver used.

Often vetiver grass is referred to as an engineer's or architect's wet dream because of its ability grow up to 1.5 meters high and form clumps as wide, but unlike most grasses (which form horizontally spreading mat-like root systems), vetiver's roots grow downward up to 2-4 meters in depth making it an excellent tool in controling erosion; useful in both agriculture (rice paddies) and terrestrial management (stream banks), especially in tropical climates suffering from monsoons.

Vetiver is closely related to other fragrant grasses such as Lemon Grass (Cymbopogon citratus), citronella (Cymbopogon nardus, C. winterianus) and Palmarosa (Cymbopogon martinii), which is in some respect the reason why it is sometimes considered a leafy/green or woody note, despite it being an earthy/rooty substance.
The world's major producers include Haiti, India, Java, and Réunion. However each soil plays a subtle part in influencing the smell of the oil yielded, so it is an interesting exercise to get hold of different batches and comparing. Some varieties are earthy or smokey, such as the Indian or Javenese batches. These can have a slightly yeasty touch that might take some getting used to. Others are more traditionally woody, with none of the earthy smell we usually associate with vetiver (especially the Sri Lankan variety). And a couple are even considered "green", such as the Haitian Vetiver which has a cleaner, grassier (pine needles) to the edge of citrusy and lightly floral (rosy geranium); same with the oil from Réunion. Both of these are considered of superior quality to the Javanese. China, Brazil and Japan also produce vetiver aromatic products, but I haven't been able to sample those, nevertheless I am determined to do so in the future.
There is also a special variety produced in the north of India which is termed khus/ruh khus or khas and is distilled from wild-growing vetiver. It is untypically blueish green in shade due to its being distilled in copper cauldrons, the traditional way. The oxidation lends a metallic aroma besides the colour, making it unique. Considered superior to the oil obtained from the cultivated variety, it is unfortunately seldom found outside of India, because most of it is consumed within the country.

The essential oil of vetiver produced is darkish brown and rather thick, viscuous. Smelling vetiver oil you are faced with a deep, earthy, herbaceous and balsamic odour which has smokey and sweet nuances with a dark chocolatey edge to it.
Vetiver can be used to render a woody, earthy tone to flowers providing depth, tenacity and "opening" of their bouquet but it can also be used to admirable results in chypres for its herbaceous/earthy vibe (especially now that oakmoss use has been lowered), in orientals for its interesting balsamic-chocolatey nuances and in incenses or citrus colognes to provide a counterpoint of woodiness.
It's so intense on its own that vetiver compositions are usually solo arrangements, rather than full symphonies, which explains why so often Vetiver fragrances are called with one part of their name just that. Like Luca Turin pointed out, comparing it to the treatment of cacao in culinary explorations:

"The perfumer has two options: retreat and declare victory, i.e. add a touch of lavender and call the result Vetiver (black chocolate); Or earn his keep and compose full-score for bass clarinet and orchestra (Milka with nuts and raisins)".

Vetiver oil or khus oil is a complex natural amalgam that contains over 100 identified components. Typical make up includes:
benzoic acid
furfurol
vetivene
vetivenyl vetivenate
terpinen-4-ol
5-epiprezizane
Khusimene
α-muurolene
Khusimone
Calacorene
β-humulene
α-longipinene
γ-selinene
δ-selinene
δ-cadinene
valencene
Calarene,-gurjunene
α-amorphene
Epizizanal
3-epizizanol
Khusimol
Iso-khusimol
Valerenol
β-vetivone
α-vetivone

For ease of reference though, the main constituents are: Benzoic acid, vetiverol, furfurol, a-vetivone, B-vetivone, vetivene, vetivenyl vetivenate.
[Source: E. Guenther, The Essential Oils Vol. 4 (New York: Van Nostrand Company INC, 1990), 178-181, cited in Salvatore Battaglia, The Complete Guide to Aromatherapy (Australia: The Perfect Potion, 1997), 205.]

The production of the vetiver oil goes like this:
The best quality oil is obtained from roots that are 18 to 24 months old. The rhizomes are dug up and cleaned, then dried. Before the distillation, the roots are chopped and soaked in water awaiting for the distillation, a procedure that takes 18 to 24 hours. Afterwards the distillate separates into the essential oil and hydrosol, the oil is skimmed off and allowed to age for a few months to allow some undesirable notes which form during the distillation to dissipate. The yield is high making vetiver an economic building block, which explains its popularity in fragrance making. Additionally, the fact that nothing smells like the real thing yet, assures us of its continued popularity versus aromachemical alternatives for the time being; no mean feat in our times. Like patchouli and sandalwood essential oils, vetiver greatly matures with aging, becoming less yeasty-musty and more pleasantly balsamic, becoming a fascinating note.

Vetiver's exciting history and representation in perfumery will be the subject of the third part in our Vetiver Series.

References:
Julie Lawless, The Encyclopedia of Essential Oils
Mandy Aftel Essence and Alchemy
Christopher McMahon from White Lotus Aromatics, Ruh Khus (Wild Vetiver Oil)/Oil of Tranquility
Vetiver.org
Germplasm Resources

Pic of vetiver grass courtesy of vetiver.org

An Iris Problem: How to Build One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pic of perfumer Alberto Morillas courtesy of Basenotes.net

Smell you later

Another day, another interview with Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez because of Perfumes the Guide. Kurt from studio360.org brought them to a nearby Duane Reed to unlock the mysteries of body spray, handiwipes, and crayons.
The tone is again playful, maybe a little ironic.
Here it is, via studio360.org

Click "play" to hear:



There are several references to popular scents and products, even Carmex (which I am not partial to), Old Spice (which personally I love) and crayolas. Also the usual pep-talk about how chemistry revolutionized the fragrance industry in the 1880s.
Please note that Luca proclaims that he likes several things that might seem like a joke when worn, but he appreciates as odors artistically. The reason why many of his choices might seem unwearable to perfume wearers.

Link brought to my attention by Rivercat00388 on MUA

Waiting for Tommy: a tragicomedy

“Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it’s awful.”

Two perfume lovers, let’s call them Vladimir & Estragon (together they sound like a Russian contraceptive!), are waiting for the revelation of the sublime through a bottle of Tommy Girl. Tommy Masterpiece is rather late to their appointment and they pass the time waiting, testing the fragrance.

Estragon struggles to extricate some substance out of the white box. He peers inside it, feels about, turns it upside down, shakes it, looks on the ground to see if anything has fallen out, finds nothing, feels inside it again, staring sightlessly before him.

ESTRAGON: Oh, there it is! Finally. Shall I spray it on?
VLADIMIR: (musingly). The last moment . . . (He meditates.) Hope deferred maketh the something sick, who said that?
ESTRAGON: Will you help me?

They spritz and sniff. Blank stare to the great unknown. They sniff some more.

VLADIMIR: Do you remember the Gospels?
ESTRAGON: I remember the maps of the Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The Dead Sea was pale blue. The very look of it made me thirsty. That's where we'll go, I used to say, that's where we'll go for our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be happy.
VLADIMIR: You should have been a poet.
ESTRAGON: I was. (Gesture towards his rags.) I was writing honest perfume reviews. Isn't that obvious?
VLADIMIR: Well? What do we do?
ESTRAGON: Don't let's do anything. It's safer. Let’s place all our faith on experts.
VLADIMIR: Let's wait and see what she says.
ESTRAGON: Who?
VLADIMIR: Tommy Girl.
ESTRAGON: Good idea. Does she say anything to your nose?
VLADIMIR: No. But let's wait till we know exactly how we stand.
ESTRAGON: On the other hand it might be better to strike the iron before it freezes.
VLADIMIR: I'm curious to hear what Tommy Girl has to offer. Then we'll take it or leave it.
ESTRAGON: What exactly did we ask her for?
VLADIMIR: Were you not there?
ESTRAGON: I can't have been listening.
VLADIMIR: Oh . . . Nothing very definite. Just to be a masterpiece, five-star caliber creation.
ESTRAGON: A kind of prayer to be the perfect department store fragrance at an affordable price. The composition coincidentally happened to fall neatly into several blocks, each typical of a native American botanical.
VLADIMIR: Precisely.
ESTRAGON: A vague supplication.
VLADIMIR: Exactly.

Silence as they contemplate.

ESTRAGON: And what did she reply?
VLADIMIR: That she'd see. It’s not that she could be definite. She has been formulated 1100 times to arrive at this result with the tea accord inspired by sniffing the inside of Mariage Freres shop in Paris, no less.
ESTRAGON: She said that she couldn't promise anything.
VLADIMIR: That she'd have to think it over and get back to us.
ESTRAGON: In the quiet of her home.
VLADIMIR: Consult her family.
ESTRAGON: Her friends.
VLADIMIR: Her agents.
ESTRAGON: Her correspondents.
VLADIMIR: Her books.
ESTRAGON: Her bank account.
VLADIMIR: Before taking a decision to be an at least decent fragrance.
VLADIMIR: Say, do you smell anything of interest?
ESTRAGON: Other than belcher, fartov and testew?
It's the normal thing. To try to be an at least decent smell.
VLADIMIR: Is it not?
ESTRAGON: I think it is not.
VLADIMIR: I don’t think so either.
ESTRAGON: (anxious). And we?
VLADIMIR: I beg your pardon?
ESTRAGON: I said, And we?
VLADIMIR: I don't understand.
ESTRAGON: Where do we come in?
VLADIMIR: Come in?
ESTRAGON: Take your time.

VLADIMIR: Come in? On our hands and knees. Begging for the revelation to come on us lowly ones who cannot see the miracle behind the masterpiece.
ESTRAGON: As bad as that?
VLADIMIR: Your Worship wishes to assert his prerogatives?
ESTRAGON: We've no rights any more?
Laugh of Vladimir, stifled as before, less the smile.
VLADIMIR: You'd make me laugh if it wasn't prohibited.
ESTRAGON: We've lost our rights?
VLADIMIR: (distinctly). We got rid of them. The day we relinquished our faith for the one placed on experts.


*Tommy Girl is the ultimate McGuffin, as Hitchcock used to say: a plot device about which the characters care desperately, but the audience isn’t meant to give a damn.

With loving admiration of Samuel.



For other interesting takes on Tommy Girl, please check out Scent Signals and Perfume Posse.

Pics courtesy of hrc.utexas.edu and samuel-beckett.net

Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez TV and Radio Interviews

Thanks to the amazing skills and generosity of IrisLA, a truly lovely, generous lady and a reader of this venue, Perfume Shrine is in the position to offer you the clip of the interview by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez on occassion of issuing their new book Perfumes The Guide on Good Morning America.
Here is the TV interview clip then. Enjoy and kudos to Iris LA!



I do have to say that Luca comes across as quite shy! Watch those clasped hands, that downcast gaze. And that Tania is animated and good fun. Of course this is merely my impression, but nice to know that the snark coming off the pages is for entertainment purposes.
The questions are mostly basic and there are no surprises for perfumephiles, but it's interesting to see some myth debunking on a big mainstream channel. The one about personal chemistry is especially relevant and it was good that the authors segue on to give us their differing opinions (Luca doesn't believe in it, Tania says she experimented with friends to that effect), but finally they converge into what seems like an approximation of what really happens: namely that perfumes have an initial difference on different people only to drydown to a similar result. Makes some degree of sense, otherwise how on earth would be able to recognise them when we smelled them on strangers?
Nice trivia that the interviewer is referencing on two occassions Diane Sawyer who is by all accounts a perfume lover with her own collection and whose favourite scent is Sabi.

On the other hand, there was also a radio interview with Luca and Tania on On Point, WBUR 90,9 Boston's NPR station. The segment was called "Perfume Appreciation" with guest host Jane Clayson on which there was supposedly a part devoted to Patty Geissler of Perfume Posse. An esteemed blogger, someone who does have an extensive collection and a reputable seller of fragrance decants, it would make all the sense in the world if they had let her speak her mind instead of cutting her off to let a Creed representative go on about the line in what seemed like promo copy, refuting the Love in White review. Of course this was a particularly vitriolic review in the book (basically -and I am paraphrasing for copyright reasons- implying that if you had been confined to sleeping for two months in the rough like a homeless person and you had been presented with Love in White as your shampoo for your first bath thereafter you'd prefer to keep the lice instead). And it's understandable that they wanted to give both sides of the argument.
Nevertheless, it would have helped a whole lot more if there was some discussion with an impartial perfume lover who has actually tested the scent and read the review as well. Still, you can listen to the interview through your computer even if you're a continent away, clicking this link. (Choose Windows Media or Realserver on top of article and click)