Do We Rely on "Rumours"? Or More?

Quite often on Perfume Shrine we break some news before they become "official" (We tag them under the label "rumour"). Before sales associates and even distributors hear about them. Before there is any corroboration from other sources. Some readers in the past have doubted some rumours, yet we have been proven correct time and again. And again. And again. Rumours which we report prematurely, often backed up with photographic proof later. Rumours which we arrive at through snippets of information from our inside connections , reportage and logical syllogisms.

Today we reply to the naysayers of last February when we first broke the news on discontinuations of several Lutens scents from the export line, therefore in essence from the international market circuit, forgive the pun. Four of them are to exit the export line of the oblong bottles, finally becoming Parisian exclusives in the beautiful "bell" shaped jars: Miel de Bois, Chypre Rouge, Santal Blanc and Douce Amère. (This seems to have been in the cards long ago, apparently, I should have seen it long ago). If you didn't stock up when you had the chance all these months ago, well, I'd hate to say we told you so. But I did.
Today I will leave the photographs do the talking...






Photos from the official Lutens page.

Public Service Announcement: Serge Lutens exclusive Santal de Mysore now in the US

Bergdorf Goodman, as well as Aedes, are now stocking the Paris exclusive Santal de Mysore by Serge Lutens and Christopher Seldrake for $200.00 a pop: the fragrance comes in the oblong 50ml/1.7oz bottles that normally carry the export line (and not the Parisian "bell" jars as depicted here) and it is the season's "gift" of an exclusive having a limited distribution on US soil
Of course dollar for dollar, the price is much more advantageous if you get it in Paris (110 euros for 75ml) and you get to sip a demi-tasse at Café Flore in the process, but I thought reporting it would send a certain frisson of excitement through Lutens' fan base anyway!
Notes for Santal de Mysore include: cumin, hot spices, styrax, balsam, Siam benzoin and sandalwood.

Personally I rather think that the meeker, creamier Santal Blanc is the better sandalwood in the Lutens line and sandalwood as a note is problematic right now anyway, because of the infamous shortage due to it being an endangered species and the subsequent restriction on harvesting.
And it would have been assuredly more interesting if they released the painfully beautiful Tubéreuse Criminelle, the naughtily spicy, densely golden fruity El Attarine or the gloriously animalistic Musc Kublai Khan that evokes intimate pleasures. But there's always next time...

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: news on the latest Serge Lutens: Nuit de Cellophane and Lutens scents reviews.

Pic through Les Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido.
Thanks to Polk/POL for the heads up!

The Agony and the Ecstacy part1: sadomasochism in fragrance

The rather outré title of this new latest series on Perfume Shrine is not meant as a direction to non-perfume venues of a niche of a quite different nature than that of the likes of afficionados of Lutens or Malle. Because here we will most certainly include perfume references by those two and lots of others, exploring just how certain scents play up on our subconscious and produce feelings of sensual surprise, olfactory submission and adoring intimidation or on the contrary a heightened sense of domination over all we survey.
If only Le Marquis and Leopold von Sacher had explored those avenues more fully.

Before we proceed any further, please note that the following are musings and thoughts that do not bind the author and are not meant to condone or approve of any practice or misunderstanding that you might have in mind. (This disclaimer of sorts is necessary to include because the term has been so much abused and tied to issues that are peripheral to it that it has gained a reputation that is inaccurate).

Perfume is fantasy. It has a weird effect on the psyche. And tied as it is to memory and sexuality it brings out elements of both to the fore, whether we desire it or not. Of course apart from the infamous Hirsch studies on what scents arouse and attract the opposite sex ~which are the matter of Googling searches all the time~ more importantly there is the element of how a particular fragrance makes the wearer themselves feel. This is the apex of the matter to my mind. Because perfume is so often worn for the enhancement of a mood or the desire to extol certain properties of the individual's personality, how one perceives said personality or mood is paramount when choosing what to wear. So a perfume with innocent, cherubic ambience would be more likely to evoke or pronounce a mood of traditionally viewed submissive femininity whereas a butch leather would reinforce the notion of a dominating persona. Or even the reverse if one is playing with boundaries and values the element of surprise!
Therefore are there specific perfumes that explore those pathways of the mind and playfully twist and turn them upside down for a perfume lover's rejoice? I think there are.

As cinematic experiences are so often deeply ingrained into Perfume Shrine, the quintessential film that displays the weird dynamic of an S/M relationship resplendent with a couple of perfume references is none other than "Il Portiere di Notte"/"The Night Porter"(1974) by Liliana Cavani featuring exquisite actors and personal favourites Dirk Bogarde and Charlotte Rampling. The film tells the tale of an ex-Nazi who falls in love with one of the Holocaust victims as many years later, both alive ~she, Lucia, a married woman; he, Max, a night porter~ they meet again at a Vienna hotel and reprise their strange affair surrounded by a hostile former Nazi crowd who seeks to gain power again with Max's assistance.
The doomed relationship of the two lovers reflects both aspects of control and surrender in alternating roles of great cinematic value. And although the mere thought of the Holocaust is assuredly distressing, the film manages to be respectful of the issues raised and focus on the personal angle rather than the historical repercussions.
You can watch a superb clip of it clicking on the screen or clicking here.


For an elaborate and long piece of how a viewer interprets the storyline I direct you to this post by The Scented Salamander.
Succinctly put:

Perfumes in Night Porter appear to be used to express ideas about sexuality, class, and inter-subjective relationship. Perfumes here, instead of elevating and idealizing the characters, making them appear more desirable and noble, are brought in to express not love, but prostitution, not attraction, but repulsion, not refinement but coarseness, not harmony, but destruction, not love, but a pathological manifestation of it.

There is also this link that mentions it in the context discussed.

Indeed perfumes in this film are seen through an altered lens and make us view scent as a means of control, rejection, social climbing or even manipulation and domination. It is an interesting axe to grind and worth pondering on.
So what would the ex-Nazi in hiding wear or the beautiful formerly submissive Lucia who reprises her role with a twist of unexpected ferocity?

As leather has been so ingrained into associations with S/M and isobutyl quinoline is the main ingredient used to render leather notes in perfumery, apart from the natural process of curing birch tar, I would propose Knize Ten for the character of Max. The fact that it comes from as far back as 1924 and Vienna in particular did not escape my attention either and may have contributed to this choice.
The history of Messrs. J. Knize dates back to 1858, based in Vienna. Within a little while fashion tailor J. Knize was appointed purveyor to K&K Royal Court and by the turn of the century many famous people, heads of states, artists, and industrialists were clientele to Knize. During the 1920s Knize's boutiques for men were established in the fashion cities of Paris, New York, London and Berlin. Although other scented offerings by Knize have been discontinued the iconic perfume remains still in production.
The fragrance is immediately redolent of raw cured leather that is pitch-black and tight, fits like a glove and is stained with the old fashioned aroma of smoke and a bit of turpentine. This shocking introduction laced with citrusy notes is testament to the power and suggestion such a smell holds over willing subjects. Woody and floral notes of subtle spiciness tone down this perverse beast resting it on a slightly powdery and incensy drydown that surprises yet again with its unexpected twists. Max in it would exude all the force of his uniformed days, when he could chop off the head of a prisoner who bothered his lover and present it John-the-Baptist-like to his own Salome. And yet he would also hide the pain that we can see in his eyes as he realises that there is no future for them, when they dare to exit the bastion of their seiged apartment towards dawn.

And Lucia would be sublime wearing none other than the infamous, the exquisite, the jarringly sexy beauty of Tubéreuse Criminelle (=criminal tuberose) by Serge Lutens.
Its reputation precedes it as people either love it or hate it but they all remain astounded by the sheer innovation of it at the time it first launched, directing others into exploring difficult notions of bracing top notes that might shock and disturb. A scent that is definitely meant for people into a certain degree of sadomasochism, as the opening note of mentholated Vicks rub hits your nostrils with the ferocity of a typhoon to subside after a little while into an armload of rubbery tuberose married to soft spoken buttery lilies. A soothing, warm, human caress after the sting of pain.
Comparable to what Jean Cocteau had said about Marlen Dietrich and her name: "Starts with a caress; ends with a whipstroke". But in reverse. Which makes it eminently suitable...


Next post will continue with more perfume and film suggestions on the naughty path. You have been warned!

Top pic courtesy of sadist.gr Clip comes from Youtube. Pic of Knize Ten comes from basenotes.net. Pic of Charlotte Rampling from charlotterampling.net

Benefactor from Parfums d'Armando Martinez: fragrance review

There is an underappreciated quality when judging perfume, especially among people who love it. That quality is wearability.
It might sound like a dirty word when every other fragrance release from the major companies is akin to putting on a mass-marketed piece of clothing that is being produced in Bangladesh, bearing the insignia of a well-known commercial designer no less. But I assure you that wearability is much more than what meets the eye. It is precisely this quality, often elusive in the niche arena of scents, that accounts for the success of Armando Martinez's perfumes.

From his first foray into Perfume Shrine with the powdery rose and violet honeyed tones of Maquillage, to his masterpiece aldehydic, pearly white floral Pillow of Flowers, Armando has been playing with good quality natural ingredients and aromachemicals that are blended in an ultimate caress of softness and plushness that would never alienate the lover of pleasant aromas. His creations do not lack uniqueness and to wit one could very well mention the mould-breaking herbal Satyr which is certainly different and stranger than most similar attempts on the market. Yet even then, there is a base element that ties loose ends with a pacifying tone like a familiar lullaby one has been carrying in one's mind since childhood.

And it is in this context that Armando's latest fragrance, a shared scent that can be worn by both sexes, Benefactor, is entering the scene; a glimpse of Salome's veils for the delectation of oriental lovers everywhere.

"Benefactor, a scent that envelopes the wearer in a cloak of roses, vanilla and agarwood. A modern take on the age old arabic perfume. An oriental that is unisex.
Benefactor's notes include: bergamot, camphor, turkish rose, saffron, vetiver, atlas cedarwood, vanilla, and agarwood".

(quote from Armando Martinez site).

Although a camphoric opening might predispose one for The Agony and the Ecstasy of none other than the perverse beauty of Tubereuse Criminelle by Lutens or even his equally strange yet lovely Borneo, in Benefactor the effect is subdued and short-lived enough to not jolt you into shock, yet challenge the nostrils with its peculiar aroma paired with a little culinary saffron, that spice that colours Middle Eastern dishes with its rich golden hues. As the camphoric note dissipates, a sweet and powdery rosiness like that in loukhoums emerges swan-down like from the mélange of notes with a little vanillic underscoring. At this stage the cosiness and softness is eminently beautiful without ever becoming insipid, with agarwood/oudh, that weird wood also appearing in the comparable Black Aoudh by Montale, so prized in arabian perfumery, playing the role of basso continuo all the while; providing the austere backdrop that veers the whole into the unisex universe of scents.
A simple composition that never loses its charm, it has the benefit of making one feel at once warm, cuddly and familiar with just the right touch of opulence, daydreaming of a harem in the Arabian Nights.

If interested in purchasing a 2 ounce spray bottle or requesting samples, Mando is charging $65.00 a bottle for each of his creations, directly from his site: Click here.
They are currently for sale also in Europe on First in Fragrance/Aus liebe zum Duft website. Click here for details.

Painting of Harem comes from travelinstyle.com

Lies and Misdemeanors

How many times have you heard a story regarding the creation of a perfume and in the end realised it must be a fabrication?
From the almost bordering to the homeric notion of "genius through incapacitation" of Coco Chanel picking up the specific batch of Ernest Beaux's No.5 while having a severe headache to another tale ~ according to which Beaux's assistant was the culprit behind the revolutionary amount of aldehydes poured by accident into a vat of jus ready for the making that resulted in a new category of perfumes.
From the melancholic Mitsouko name supposedly meaning "mystery" in Japanese (well, it means "child of light", if you want to know) and the tale that Jicky was the nickname of an unfortunate coup de foudre that Aime Guerlain harbored for an English girl (in reality it was the nickname of his nephew Jacques) to the couturier Marcel Rochas commissioning Femme as an exclusive wedding present for his great beauty of a young bride, which proved to be such a short-lived exclusive that the following year he launched it publicly...

And cut into the modern classic that is Angel, commissioned to smell like the "the caramel scent of sugared apples, the sugary notes of candy floss and the smell of the fun fair" by Strasbourg-born Thierry Mugler. (You can read an interesting article brought to my attention on the gourmand scents mentioning this byclicking here).
Or even the references made by consumers when they talk about a favourite or just plain hip of-the-moment perfume they have fallen for: Remember how Madona in the mid-90s talked about how she chose Fracas, among many others, because it reminded her of her dearly beloved mother who used to wear it, just when the whole chic crowd was rediscovering this forgotten classic and had similar stories to recount?

Perfume needs a tale behind it to sell, it seems. Every single one of the classics has a tale behind it. Every single one of those tales has some element of fantasy. It has to, because perfume seems to be aspirational: people want to buy into a fairy tale, an illusion, a flight of fancy that would make them feel happier, more elegant, more glamorous, more alluring, certainly more attractive. At its basest level perfume is used as an element of attraction. There is an inordinate amount of questions on which perfume would draw in more people of the opposite sex on perfume fora. It practically pops up every day. It also makes column inches in advertorials and articles in the press, especially when it's time for the mega-launches before the Christmas season.

However, perfume also serves other purposes: it signals a certain persona behind it (and this is not used in the Bergman sense) that is projected through the use of something upscale as an emblem of wealth, societal status, taste and cultivation. This is the reason why when giving gifts of perfume of brands that are considered upscale the face of the recipient lights up significantly more than when presenting them with an equal -monetarily speaking- offering of an unknown brand. They feel like they "belong" and that they are validated when presented with said offering, same as when they whip up the credit card to do it themselves. And people mostly want to "belong".

A variation of the latter nevertheless is the undisciplined spirit of people who want to be perceived as breaking the mould, as forming their own individual fashions and opting for something that would set them apart. In a world that is crammed with people smelling the same, the olfactory ID of a different scent acts much like the shoulderpads of the 80s, creating a little distance and hauteur that allows people to mark their own territory. And this is where the ever expanding market of "niche" perfumes falls. Based on the premise that limited ditribution creates exclusivity and that limited advertising saves money for better-quality ingredients, accounting for a better effect, as well as some leeway of an artistic vision that is not as aysterely restrained by "suits" in marketing boards, niche brands opt to play the game by their own rules.
But that is not meant to imply that they do not engage in their own literature of fantasy. Ambre Sultan is supposed to have been inspired by lumps of vegetal amber found in Moroccan souks and served as an inspiration to Lutens to come up with a perfume that has become infamous due to its perceived naughty undertones that to some smell like lady bits. Or think how Annick Goutal reading "Memoirs of Hadrian" by M.Yourcenar envisioned the young philosopher emperor smelling like a crystalline mix of Sicilian lemons and cypress resulting in Eau d'Hadrien. Or yet the very romantic tale of Antonia Ballanca Mahoney recounting the story of her grandfather and a Sicilian song named Tiempe Passate (=time passes) that served as the inspiration behind the homonymous fragrance of austere cedar and powdery orris.

Are those new tales true? I guess it doesn't matter too much. And sceptical readers will have already drawn their conclusions. But it's nice while they last. In a pedantic world they help us dream a bit.


Pic is from the film "Lady in the water", a fairy tale about how fairy tales might help us; courtesy of athinorama.gr

Jasmine series: part 3 ~ rich jasmine suggestions

After examining the properties and usage of jasmine in perfumery it was about time to concentrate on specific perfumes that feature it in its multiple capacities. To this end, it was decided that a triplet of divisions would be opted for: rich essences with depth and oomph, mellow compositions that stand on the golden medium between extremes and fresh nuances that are welcome even on the hottest of days and would never overwhelm. Today we are focusing on the first category.

The crown jewel is of course A la nuit by Serge Lutens. However it has been adequately elaborated on at Perfume Shrine not to require further description.

On the same rich and abundant jasmine kick, L'artisan Parfumeur makes the surprise and offers us a heady bouquet in La Haie Fleuri de Hameau. It is big, opulent, operatic and orgasmic even, full of the concentrated essence of jasmine, much like A la nuit is. Created as a haunting interpretation of Marie Antoinette's garden of white flowers at Versailles by Jean La Porte, founder of L'artisan house and subsequently creator of the Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier line, it is reminiscent of A la nuit's opulence minus the heavy indolic rot.
However La haie fleuri is encompassing other floral notes as well, such as pronounced hyacinth in the drydown as well as lily of the valley and honeysuckle at the opening with a smidgeon of tuberose (subdued) that account for a multi-floral impression that like an impressionistic painting stuns you with its brutal exploitation of the light and its effects on objects. The different nuances with a little green and a little soap interjected peek through at intervals and make their presence known all the while under the baguette of the efficient maestro that jasmine undoubtedly is. Very potent and surprisingly extremely lasting (and I am saying this for those who complain on L'artisan's offerings' lasting power), it is to be used with restraint.
Although created some time ago, it still is available at the Boutique L'artisan and at select places where the brand is available in the big 100ml bottle only. Check here for prices and availability.

Jardin Blanc by Maitre Parfumer et Gantier was the next logical step in our itinerary through rich hedonistic jasmines, and not only for reasons of symmetry after La Haie Fleuri. The inclusion of tuberose shifts this one in the fecal, animalic direction when the opening slaps you across the face with its audacity and insolence, with what smells to my nose as sweet heady honeysuckle and with a nod to Fracas with its rubbery heart.
The official notes are, according to Aedes:
Top: Mandarin, myrtle, leafy green; Middle: Ylang-ylang, clove, jasmine; Base: Sandalwood, tolu, vetiver.
It doesn't come off as green or leafy, although there is the weird "freshness" that white florals sometimes possess at the initial stage, as if you have cut the stems from the vine just now, yet it is deeply earthy, sweet and potent, drying down softer, soapier and more muted which accounts for higher wearability than initially expected.


The Different Company under the direction of Jean Claude Ellena's daughter, Celine Ellena, came out with Jasmin de Nuit, an offering that could not leave Perfume Shrine and its love of all things jasmine uninterested. The official notes include bergamot, black currant, egyptian jasmine, star anise, cinnamon, cardamom, sandalwood, musk and amber. According to the house, it has unusually high concentrations of Egyptian jasmine absolute, which is a variety that supposedly has a fruitier undertone than others more commonly used.
My personal impression is that it is more spicy than intensly floral on the whole and as such it cannot but be a very intriguing addition to the sampling package of any discerning perfume afficionado in the search for jasmine perfumes. In fact many spice lovers would find the cardamom opening delectable (which is a favourite spice for the Ellena family, if I go by Jean Claude's magnificent pilgrimage to it in Declaration by Cartier). It then mellows and leaves the jasmine notes to marry with ambery undertones that linger seductively and warmly on the skin for a long time, much more than other creations of The Different Company if you're familiar with the line.

In our perusal of rich jasmine fragrances, Creed with its Jasmine Emperatrice Eugenie, a fragrance created for a real historical figure, is next on our list. Based on an original formula of the 19th century for the wife of Napoleon III, it is a triumph for the house of Creed. With its rich, suave sandalwood base and its effluvium of jasmine it is at once feminine and emancipated enough to command attention. The lightly vanillic base accounts for augmenting the warmth and cuddliness of the scent. Its character lies somewhere between Bois des Iles by Chanel, Samsara by Guerlain and Organza by Givenchy, accounting for a woody floral that is elegant yet potent at the same time.

Samsara by Guerlain is another stonking beat of jasmine with the rich support of sandalwood, amplified to the max. If your olfactory nerve does not numb with the potent smell I don't know what will produce such an effect. Still, it is a modern classic that merits testing. For a lovely detailed review of it, you can browse Ayala's review here

And for the grand finale, Jasmin Full by Montale is a lethal Venus flytrap that is certainly going to entangle you into a deathly grip. Very strong, yet not indolic or animalic the way A la nuit is, it lasts extremely well and lets its other floral notes like orange blossom peek a boo for the merest whiff. It has been commented to smell a little like ammonia, which could be attributed to the nature of jasmine molecular structure and emition as discussed before, still I do not perceive it as unpleasant, which is something I cannot say for some of the oudhs on the Montale line which compete for foulest sniff on my personal fragrance path. A must try for serious jasmine fans.


Next post will focus on mellow, balanced jasmine renditions.



Artwork Flaming June by Frederick Leighton courtesy of artcom.

Orange Blossom week: part 2 - sexy aromas

What is it that links orange blossom to sexy aromas? Many of the interpretations of this note in perfumery take advantage of the naturally lush and sexual aroma of the blossoms and in our investigation of this subject we have come up against many interesting tidbits of information that might help elucidate why and how.

The use of perfume as an enhancement and not concealement of genitalia and hormone odours has been in practice till ancient times. It was the knowledgable ancient Egyptian women who used Kyphi rolled in miniscule balls, placed in the vulva. They also used amber mixes and civet. The Hindus also used the smell of female genitalia as a classification point for women, in which no one is left unappareciated. In Shakespeare's times it was common for men and women to offer apples to the object of their affection that had been saturated in the sweat of the armpit. That was meant to be a signification of desire and perhaps an early attempt at judging whether the prospective lover's pheromones would intermingle well with their sensibilities.
In the Memoirs of Casanova, we come across an observation that there is a hidden something in the air of a lover's bedroom that would make it very easy to choose between it and Heaven itself. So much is the infatuation that a beloved's body produces in the soul. And on that note who can forget the infamous epistle of Napoléon to Joséphine when he passionately wrote to her: "Je réviens en trois jours; ne te lave pas!" (I return in three days, don't wash yourself)
Anais Nin and Henry Miller were no strangers to the alchemical nature of the odorata sexualis of a lover that can be enhanced by perfume and Nin's personal choice of Caron's Narcisse Noir (a fragrance rich in orange blossom)and Guerlain's Mitsouko shows an appreciation for blends that enhance a person's natural sexual aroma. Beaudelaire, Flaubert (who kept the mittens of his mistress on a drawer for sniffing purposes), Goethe and Reiner Maria Rilke are also literature figures that occupied themselves with the fragrant nature of seduction.
Even in our more pedestrian times the allure of the erotic has been used to great effect in advertising. From Schocking by Schiaparelli to Ambre Sultan by Lutens to Boudoir by Westwood, many perfumes have claimed to capture in fragrant droplets the odorata sexualis of a woman for seduction purposes. Last olfactory example of this being Tom Ford' attempt at it when he proclaimed that his last fragrance Black Orchid was supposed to smell of a man's crotch. I think not, but hey, you have been warned!

Of course like a plethora of things in life much of the effect of something relies on context. Meaning that leaving youself unwashed would not shill your charms to potential lovers necessarily if some particular smell is not pleasant to them or the sweat is rank. It all has to do with delicate proportion and adjustment. In a fascinating experiment by Paul Jellineck, recounted in Essence and Alchemy, people had been asked to smell versions of well-known frags such as Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant and a traditional eau de Cologne with and without the addition of neroli. In the former case the neroli just mingled with the other floral substances adding a fresh note and balancing them, whereas in the latter it seemed sultry and rich and therefore erotically nuanced. This goes to show that although there is a clear cut path to lust and sexuality, eroticism in perfume as in any other area is complex and subtle, dependent on context and associations that need a delicate hand in placing them there.

So how orange blossom is linked to all these exciting observations? Let me shock you a bit in case you were unaware of the fact. Orange Blossom (as well as jasmine) is filled with the fascinating indole.
According to Encyclopedia Brittanica:

Indole, also called Benzopyrrole, is a heterocyclic organic compound occurring in some flower oils, such as jasmine and orange blossom, in coal tar, and in fecal matter. It is used in perfumery and in making tryptophan, an essential amino acid, and indoleacetic acid (heteroauxin), a hormone that promotes the development of roots in plant cuttings. First isolated in 1866, it has the molecular formula C8H7N.

It is this base ingredient that is so abundant in white florals -among them orange blossom to a moderate degree- that apparently gives a nod to the human aspect of our existence and reminds us of our primeval objects in life: to have sex and procreate. In this context it is no accident that orange blossom is traditionally used in wedding wreaths, as discussed yesterday.
Therefore if a catcall to carnality is your objective, yet you want to go about it more discreetly than resorting to civet (the pungent extract of the anal glands of a species of the Viverridae shaped like a small fox and native to Abysinnia, Java, Borneo, Sumatra and Bengal and farmed in Ethiopia for perfume purposes), orange blossom can be a Heaven sent destined to confine you in the abyss of Hell.

For this purpose there is no better choice than the rich, sultry, lush and totally feminine with a capital F Fleurs d'oranger by Serge Lutens. Luckily a part of the export line, but also available in a beautiful bell jar in the exclusive Palais Royal for Shiseido line of scents, it is the essence of classy sexiness captured in a bottle. Like a woman of mature wiles sitting under an orange grove contemplating serious romance and seduction it is multi-nuanced with precious essences of white jasmine and indian tuberose that enhance the indolic aspect to magnificent proportions, laced with the sprinkle of fiery spice like cumin and nutmeg rolled in tangy citrus peel, all the while exuding aromas of muskiness and floralncy in alrernative overlappings like the tongue of a skillful lover. The inclusion of rose and hibiscus seeds consolidates the velours aspect of a base that never really leaves the skin, reminding you of happy romance even after it is just a distant memory in the farthest corners of your mind.


Next post will tackle another aspect of orange blossom.

Art photography by Spyros Panayiotopoulos, courtesy of eikastikon.gr