Leather Series 12: the Modern Leathers

After the Big Bruisers of the 80s, so ingrained into the decade of decadence and carnality, leather scents took a back seat until the modern fragrance niche phenomenon erupted like a well-oiled explosive mechanism, issuing forgotten ripples into the stagnant pond of ozonic-marines of the early 90s. Suddenly those “weird” smells were cool again!

Modern leather scents are divided in so many categories it was a Herculean feat trying to sort them out. There is a leather fragrance for every mood these days.
So this little list is meant to help you navigate your way through the plethora on offer, but it's by no means a definitive guide: that would implicate your own nose.



*The Orientalised Leathers
When leathers take a turn for the Middle East or the exotic spices and dried fruits caravan.

Cuir Mauresque by Serge Lutens: a Moorish scent (therefore of Spanish Leather tradition), it infuses cuir with clove, mandarin rind and aloeswood to turn the smoky heart of Tabac Blond into a modern, sweeter alternative with a little funk.
Cuir Ottoman by Parfums d’Empire: described by a dear friend as “feeling like actually wearing a leather couch” it is uber-luxe, very warm and opulent.
Ambre Russe by Parfums d’Empire: the hangover-ed sister of Cuir Ottoman who drinks dark Russian tea to perk her up.
Cuir Ambré No.3 by Prada: unisex leather with an orientalised twist.
Montale Oud Cuir D'Arabie: intensely leathery with the characteristic mustiness of aromatic oud. For those who go for the potently woody.
Fleur de Peau by Keiko Mecheri: heavy heliotrope over smooth nubbuck, bittersweet, a little soapy, for those who like Daim Blond and can abide sweet leathers.
Parfum d’Habit by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier: lush, with a delectable fruity top married with the rosiness of geranium and patcouli.

*The Quirky Leathers
Some leather fragrances do not want to conform, like spoiled brats who want to do their own thing. Sometimes this is a good thing!

Dzing! by L’artisan: the hide of a living animal, completely weird and therefore compelling. Warm and nuzzling, to some it might even smell like zoo dung, but it might bring out your inner "Cat People".
Black by Bvlgari: rubbery, fetishist and urban. Close to Dzing!, with a more vanillic underlay.
Baladin by De Nicolai: vetiver-smeared leather and you know there is something sophisticated hidding here.
Jean-Luc Amsler Prive Homme: leather nappa stretched on a rock (a mineral touch)
Marquis de Sade by Histoire des Parfums: stewed prunes kept in a leather pouch for consuming au lit, après.
Rose d’Homme by Rosine: or how a rose can smell as sweet by no other name. A bastard who makes you look twice and wins you in the end. For rose-haters.
Idole by Lubin: boozy like a drunken pirate in the Caribbean
Nuit Noire by Mona di Orio: citrus and floral avalanche (orange blossom and tuberose) over an animalic musky and civet-catty note that recalls visions of Lutens at his best.
Corps et Ames by Parfumerie Generale: with a fierce chyprish quality about it, wonderfully unique

*The Butch Leathers
Because some days you want to get out into cow country and never look back.

Lonestar Memories by Andy Tauer: an outdoor smell of leather chaps on someone who has been cooking over a woodfire on a campsite for hours on end. It grabs you and never lets go.
Cuiron by Helmut Lang: an intense slap of leather from an austere designer glove and an invitation to a modern duel
Patchouli 24 by Le Labo: full of birch tar, no patchouli, what a misleading name!

*The Subtle Whisper Leathers
Sometimes there only needs to be a passing whiff...

No.19 by Chanel: the toughness under the white shirt and the powdery iris is the winning combination of elegance.
Kelly Calèche by Hermès: “soles of angel leather” indeed! The prettiest introduction to proper perfumes for a young woman. Quality all the way. A sleeper classic!
Fleur de Narcisse by L’artisan: unattainably heavenly like the rotting corpse of a soldier on a spring field through the eyes of Rimbaud in "Le dormeur de Val" {click Fleur de Narcisse to read the poem and review}.
Dzongkha by L’artisan: the temple smells of wood, but the shoes of the pilgrims left outside have their own tale to recount
Tuscan Leather by Tom Ford Private Blend: opulent aroma of burnt wood and cigar smoke of a poser; rather soft for something named Leather
Vie de Chateau by De Nicolai: starts as traditional cologne, graduates to so much more. Aristocratic.
John Varvatos pour Homme: Varvatos (pronounced Var-VA-tos) is a designer whose name in Greek refers to a man who smells of pungent and quite intense sex juices ~his own! Unfortunately the onomatopoieia has not been entirely successful: it doesn’t smell as such. What a pity: It would have been the perfect ice-breaker!
VIP room: a very interesting, limited edition by the infamous Parisian club house. Suede-like, less sweet than Daim Blond and ultimately a favourite. Too bad it’s getting hard to find!
Etienne Aigner Suede Edition: light, smooth, soft, with a salty undertone of real suede.
Daim Blond by Serge Lutens: suede with sweet apricots and an almondy powdery note, too sweet sometimes.
Cuir Beluga by Guerlain: the merest hint of leather for budding leatheristas, rather sweet.
Habit Rouge by Guerlain: leather hidding under powder; a well-bred gentleman is having a relaxing day at his club.
Cacharel pour Homme: fine suede, rather too traditionally masculine to make a striking impression any more
Kitsune by Armando Martinez: smooth, musky, suede-like and soft like his other nuzzling scents, with a fabulous name.
Histoire d’Eau by Mauboussin: light summery leather that can be worn anywhere really.
Trussardi Donna: why did they reformulate this one? In its white mock croc bottle it was the loveliest torrid affair of feminine flowers and costly nubbuck. I miss it…
Rykiel Woman-not for men! by Sonia Rykiel: a sexy wink of the eye that comes from musk and leather speaks in silence under the mask of powder and amber. Too well blended for anything to pop out.
Vol de Nuit by Guerlain: an exceptional creation that even features a slight hint of leather if you close your eyes and picture Saint-Exupery in his bomber jacket flying over the Sahara.
Shalimar by Guerlain: the bronze deitythat wears this has her eyes kholed and her neck collared with bands of vanillic, powdery leather.
Murasaki by Shiseido: named after the heroine and author of Genji Monogatari (The Tale of Genji),it vibrates into the frequency of purple, soft and fresh like a cosmetic product that stays on you for the day, a sensual reminder.

Read the rest of the Leather Series following these links:
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,
Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8,
Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Pic of The Avengers and Quills courtesy of Allposters, pic of Marc Jacobs shoes originally uploaded on BlogdorfGoodman

Cosmic Harmonies

When Solange Azagury Patridge came out with her first perfume, Stoned, I was curious to sample it. It-jeweller to the London stars Elton John, David Furnish and Bella Freud and creative director for Boucheron, Solange had all the makings of a hip-celeb in her respective field and the news of her launching a fragrance seemed like a nice idea for someone who had obviously good taste and an eye for imaginative design in jewellery. Then I learned the name of the scent: Stoned. It recalled images of Amy Winehouse, not of glamour. Let's just say it wasn't very appealing, even though I belatedly found out it was simply named thus for a girl who likes stones. Heftily priced/prized ones, that is...
Later on I found out it actually had finely milled diamond-dust in it. And on the heels of that, the price. OK, by then I was ready to hate it! But surprisingly it was not a bad perfume, this smooth oriental, even if lots of the money asked went to the bottle and the diamond dust. Stoned took a year to break even, business speaking, which in light of the above hardly comes as a surprise, does it.

Now Cosmic came to the scene and it was rumoured to be a modern chypre. This got me in a mode of at leasting wanting to try. Both Solange scents were developed by Lynn Harris of Miller Harris, which to me ensured at least a standard of quality ingredients and concept.
The name Cosmic is taken from the Cosmic zodiac jewellery collection by Solange in which each piece is unique.
Of course again the bottle and the name suggest something that is otherwordly to what is actually hiding in the bottle: a likeable green velvety skin-scent. What I mean by a skin scent: not that the fragrance reminds of the smell of your-skin-but-better, that alloy of synthetic musks that is so favoured in very recent perfumery. No, I mean that it stays close to the skin and doesn't project like some extraterrestrial entity that has landed on you proclaiming its scheme to conquer the earth. It's too well-mannered for that.


According to Solange:

A shooting star falls to earth revealing its meteoric and potent charms. Following on from her parfum Stoned, Solange has thrown her imagination out to the furthest corners of the universe and created the exquisite Cosmic-- an intergalactic liquid jewel enclosed in a star-faceted silver orb. The bottle's shimmering surface glints and winks from every angle, literally a Cosmic addition to every girl’s dressing table.

Cosmic is a modern Chypre that weaves together a milky-way of magical essences, combining Solange’s own sweet candy accord with an airy top note of bergamot, sparkling aldehydes and galbanum. The heart of the fragrance beats with classic blossoming rose, jasmine absolute and rare iris. Base notes of earthy vetiver, opoponax from Peru, myrrh from Somalia, and sweetly addictive vanilla add layers of sensual aroma. To further embellish these earth-based substances, Meteorites have been specially ground down to create a fine Stardust for the fragrance. The heady combination of essence, cosmos and ether simply takes you out of this world...

Cosmic by Solange goes into its own little twists and turns keeping a smooth harmony in which it's hard to discern particular ingredients, they're weaved in tightly. Initially there is the herbal hit of galbanum with a minty overlay of aldehydic sparkle, seguing on to a smooth lightly sweeted heart of soft heaps of flowers. One would be hard-pressed to pinpoint their little heads. The sweetness reminds me of ionones (gamma-methylionone, alpha-ionone)and mint leaves on a cool champagne sorbet, melting into a serene moment to yourself. You might be contemplating the stars or wondering how your lucky stars might help you actually buy this indulgence.
In a way Cosmic has traces of both Satyr by Armando Martinez and Alice in Wonderland by Konstantin Mihov, two indie perfumers which have been featured in these pages; and perhaps also a shade of Maboussin, another fragrance issued by jewellers.
In Cosmic the smoothness and sweetness are rounding out the initial jolt of galbanum and are beautifully accompagnied by the persistence of a little resin and earthy notes such as vetiver and patchouli like a basso continuo you find yourself noticing more and more.
I call this success, don't you?


Cosmic notes
Bergamot, Galbanum, Rose, Jasmine Absolute, Iris Absolute, Patchouli, Vetiver, Labdanum, Opoponax, Myrrh, Vanilla

Cosmic comes in a silvery metallic star-embossed bottle of Eau de Parfum 50ml/1.7oz and retails at 200 euros or 285$.
Cosmic is available at First in Fragrance and Luckyscent.




Following posts will feature lots of surprises and articles inspired by my trips. Stay tuned!

Pic of moons sent to me by mail unaacredited. Pic of bottles: Stoned on the left, Cosmic on the right, from official Solange site.

Chypre series 3: the new contestants

 If we are to talk about New Chypres (also nouveau chypres or "pink chypres" see below), we need to clarify some things. If you're new to Perfume Shrine's Chypre Series, please refer to the following basic articles:
What ARE "chypre perfumes"?
What are the aesthetics of chypre fragrances?
What's the history and zeitgeist of "chypre" evolution?

In our quest for chypre perfumes we stumble upon a peculiar phenomenon: there are scarcely any true chypres getting produced in the last 25 years!! Why is that? The answer is two-fold and fascinating in its denouement.

First of all, there is the matter of ingredients getting replaced and restricted, with oakmoss being the most crucial and prominent one as mentioned before. However surely this is a very recent phenomenon that only lately has seriously affected perfumers and houses into producing fragrances that do not make use of this elusive, wonderfully sensual ingredient. For example it was only at the beginning of the year that Mitsouko begun its journey into its latest reformulation, the one that lowers the oakmoss magnificence into the accountant-minded IFRA guidelines. Perhaps it's just as well that the process is going slowly in those instances so one can stockpile a favourite version/vintage while they still can. Labdanum is also slowly being replaced by other ingredients. Miss Dior, this legendary New Look debutante has had a makeover by Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. The effect is not quite as endearingly old-fashioned as it used to be. The sister fragrance (or should I say evil step-sister?) Miss Dior Cherie is the new direction in which the pendulum swings.

Nevertheless there must have been something else besides ingredients' embargo at play, influencing trends and production, which we will explore in another installment on the Chypre series real soon.

In the meantime, it might be interesting to note that after what seemed a total eclipse of chypres in releases of late years, there has been a new category of fragrances coming out slowly but surely that although not typical of their family they bear the illustrious label regardless.

They encompass lovely watercolours like Narciso for Her by Narciso Rodriguez, the coquette qui fait la coquinne Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel (classed either as floriental or fruity chypre, leaning more to an orientalised patchouli), the grapefuit laden abstraction of Ralph Lauren's Pure Turqoise , the sexy safron rosiness of Agent Provocateur that might have been at the vanguard of the trend.
These new entries into the galaxy of chypre have been ingeniously coined by Ayala Moriel as "pink chypres", simply because they exude a modern, young and girly air that is a novel take on the old sophistication of a classic chypre.

Michael Edwards, the man who is responsible for the "Fragrances of the World" system is classifying them under the "mossy woods" umbrella as evidenced in the Sephora directory. Oakmoss is mentioned in the introductory note, yet it is distinctly shunning the invitation in several of those listed.

But then how conclusive are fragrance families and categories anyway?

Referenced in the series "Que sais-je?" in the volume Le Parfum Jean Claude Ellena notes:

I've taken part in the perfume classification committee of the Société Française des Parfumeurs, but nowadays I wonder what its use really is. [...]In today's olfactory classifications, I believe that the most valuable information lies in the perfume's date of creation, its name, and the name of the brand that launched it on the market. The date allows us to put perfumes in an evolutionary perspective (as long as we are able to smell them), while product names and brands give us some indication of the degree of creativity involved in each company. (p. 77-78)

(quote copied from Marcello on nowsmellthis)

Clearly this is a renouncement of formal classifications and perhaps a rather elitist streak, one might say, that runs into this 60 year old minimalist perfumer responsible for such masterpieces as First by Van Cleef, Declaration by Cartier, the Hermessences and the Jardin series (en Mediteranee and sur le Nil) for Hermes and numerous others. But then again Jean Claude has a family which cherises aromas in everyday life and sits down to Christmas dinner hiding little aromatic gifts under the napkins. His daughter is also a perfumer, Cecile Ellena, the co-nose of The Different Company. It goes with the territory.

With that in mind, if we choose to take his side, this new category of chypres is worth exploring even though they lack the characteristic bergamot-oakmoss accord that is typical of the classics of yesterday.

So what goes into the production of those modern chypres?

The typical bergamot top of classic chypres has long been known to be phototoxic, resulting in brown patches on the skin upon exposure to UV radiation. It has been advised ever since I can recall to avoid placing perfume in spots that would be exposed to the sun, exactly because of that. And it has been well-known and accepted for decades. Why it has become such a derisive issue now, which demands the restriction of its use in minute amounts or the clear labelling on the box, is a matter that has to do with complicated legal reasons and the fervent desire of companies to not get entantangled in judicial battles that would cost them fortunes.
Bergamot has thus been shunned for other citrusy and bright top notes that include fresh and slightly bitter grapefruit, sweet mandarin and tangerine (like in Miss Dior Cherie), homely orange in some cases, and even floral essences that marry the florancy with the high volatility and sparkle of hesperides, like neroli or even orange blossom (as is the case in Narciso which uses a synthesized orange blossom that is also apparent in this year's launches for men Dior Farhenheit 32 and Gaultier Fleur du Male).

Fruity notes such as mangosteen (Hillary Duff With Love), lichi, watermelon and passion fruit (Masaki Matsushima Masaki), strawberry (Miss Dior Cherie)and berries (Badgley Mischka) are also appearent, although this might have to do with the overuse of fruity aromas in perfumes of recent launch anyway.
Sweet gourmand touches (caramelised pop corn of Miss Dior Cherie and creme de cassis in Badgley Mischka) might also be attributed to that and not to any desire to revolutionise the chypre notion any further. Which is just as good...

Oakmoss and labdanum have been substituted by grassy, pungent vetiver ~that aromatic root from Java that is the dream of every engineer as it binds itself into substructure; and by patchouli ~that indian bush with the sweet smelling leaves that produce the most potent smell in the vegetal kingdom. The two have been the base accord of almost every new chypre to emerge since 2000 and are going steady in their triumphal marching into perfumery even in seperate capacities. They are tremendously popular notes in both feminine and masculine perfumes.

Often spicy notes, such as coriander (Emporio Armani City Glam Her), or herbal ones, such as angelica, mingle with various musks to accent the murky character of the new chypres. Producing thus oeuvres that although they bear no relation to the old-fashioned intense warmth and powder of their predecessors, they appeal to similar audiences; audiences who have been conditioned to love chypres since childhood perhaps, be it from received memories through beloved family members, or through an appreciation for the unidentifiable character of those Old World sumptuous fragrances.

In any case the future for modern chypres is looking very bright indeed!


Next installement will tackle matters of aesthetics.

Top pic sent to me by mail unaccredited, pic of Narciso bottle courtesy of Nordstrom.com