Le Labo Lys 41: fragrance review

The newly launched Le Labo Lys 41 is heavily influenced by the mid-20th-century salicylate-rich school of florals, which in the past gave us classics such as L'Air du Temps, Fidji and the vintage, original Chloe, but transmitted through a Mac Book Pro screen; such is its modern sensibility. Let that not detract you from its ritzy glamor all the same.

via glo.msn.com

The treatment here is resplendent of the solar and creamy scented aspects to the lily (rather than eugenol-rich spicy, which would be an alternative direction in showcasing this flower) with a segment of tuberose floralcy. It approximates the lushness of frangipani blossoms (a kissing cousin to the closely intertwined, narcotic jasmine sambac) with a soft sweetness which surfaces from the bottom up thanks to fluffy vanilla and musk. If you love that sort of thing, you will love that sort of thing, and I'm warning you it can become a tad overwhelming sometimes, but it's quite addictive nevertheless.

Similar in feeling, but denser, to Lys Soleia (Guerlain Aqua Allegoria line) and Vanille Galante (Hermes Hermessences), Lys 41 by Le Labo is sure to capture the heart of those who love beach-evoking thrills, all out lushness and the playful, smooth feeling of whipped cream spread onto skin. Composed by Daphné Bugey, one of Le Labo’s iconic noses and the perfumer behind Rose 31, Bergamote 22 and Neroli 36, the new Lys 41 is insistent in its fragrant wake, meant to reward those who are looking to make a statement with their fragrance.

Sorta like Elizabeth Taylor's diamonds-accessorized turbans; regal looking and hard to miss.

Notes for Le Labo Lys 41:
Jasmine, tuberose absolute, lily, warm woody notes, vanilla madagascar and musks.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: Lily fragrances, Le Labo news & fragrance reviews

Disclosure: I was sent a sample directly by the company.

Tocca Margaux: new fragrance

Feast your eyes on the gorgeous bottle of the newest feminine fragrance by Tocca cult brand, as it's so very beautiful as usual. Margaux eau de parfum, the upcoming feminine fragrance release, planned for October 2013, is a new proposition  in the line with a richer, more sophisticated scent than we've been used to previously (see Colette, Touch or Cleopatra by Tocca for instance).

via Perfume (Larie) pinterest.com

Fragrance notes for Tocca Margaux:
Top Notes: Blood Orange, Bergamot Blossom, Cassis, Green Gardenia
Middle Notes: Black Jasmine, Ambery Violet, Cashemere Woods
Bottom Notes: Warm Musk, Benzoin, Vanilla, Heliotrope

TOCCA Margaux Eau de Parfum (50 ml) retails at $68 at Sephora and Nordstrom stores nationwide and online at www.TOCCA.com, www.sephora.com, www.bluemercury.com and beauty.com beginning October 2013.

Scent on Canvas Blanc de Paris: fragrance review

The balance between freshly dried cotton sheets and lived-in warmth is in Blanc de Paris, sweet and sour dancing by the fluency of the language of individual skins. This Eau de Parfum has the potential to be the best-seller in the new niche Scent on Canvas line, not only because it’s perfectly legible (a white musk with all the right buttons pressed—bright opening, segueing to cool and clean, melting into warm and lightly sweet), but also because it’s the most approachable (instantly familiar, immediately likable); in so many words, a fate foretold! Like most good musks Blanc de Paris is surprisingly more complex than given credit for, with a classic, more traditionally feminine rose-sandalwood accord which recalls old favorites and the cool, almost iron-pressed ambience of irones (iris note). Nuzzling, its drydown reminds me of those retro lavender & tonka bean compositions after they have rested on the skin for quite some time. A second epidermis, a “my skin but better” sort of fragrance.

illustration by Kay Nielsen via lifo.gr

To dance in an early spring morning among flowers – this is the aroma Beatrice Aguilar created in a composition that is between intensity and a caress, passion and sweetness, simplicity and sophistication.

The new niche collection "Scent on Canvas" so far includes five perfumes created by an eclectic mix of perfumers: Jórdi Fernandez (for Rose Opéra and Noir de Mars), Shyamala Maisondieu (Ocre Doré) , Alexandra Kosinski (Brun Sicilien) and the founder, Beatrice Aguilar herself (Blanc de Paris). The collection spans five fragrance genres with nuanced olfactory work within them: the starchy, woody musk, a predetermined crowd-pleaser (Blanc de Paris); the dark musty-mossy with guts (Noir de Mars); the mysterious, coppery woody (Ocre Doré); the rosy floral with mysterious, spicy-suede tonalities (Rose Opéra) and the complex hesperidic-leathery (Brun Sicilien). Each fragrance is accompanied by a painting by a well-known painter who is inspired by the aromatics in the composition, then the painting is turned into an engraving which is used for the packaging of the fragrance: the inside of the box holds the engraving ready to be framed and hung on your walls.

Notes for Blanc de Paris by Scent on Canvas:
Top: green mandarin, Murcia citron, Calabrian bergamot
Heart: white flowers, Bulgarian rose, iris
Base: white musk, sandalwood, benzoin

The perfumes are priced at 130 Euros for 100 ml of perfume/eau de parfum (only Blanc de Paris is an Eau de Parfum by design, the rest are extrait de parfum). A great value sample pack of all 5 scents is offered for only 10 euros online at the official e-shop. More information: scentoncanvas.com

Les Parfums de Rosine Vive La Mariee: fragrance review & samples draw

Les Parfums de Rosine isn't removed from the romantic notion of fragrance as a pleasure, a smile, a memento to accompany the most beautiful moments of one's life. So there was nice building up for their wedding fragrance, the newly launched Vive la Mariée (long live the bride), without resorting to histrionics; the launch was discreet and the promises complied to the image we have of Les Parfums de Rosine.
In the immortal words of the Fiona character in Four Weddings and a Funeral to describe the love interest of the main protagonist, bride-to-be, Carrie (turns out, "to be and to divorce" and then "to love and not to be"): "Used to work at Vogue. Lives in America now. Only gets out with very glamorous people. Quite out of your league."
There is just something traditionally chic, even expected, about Les Parfums de Rosine and Vive la Mariée is no exception.

wedding dress by Christian Dior 1948 via hprints.com

Vive la Mariée smells translatable as feminine right away, the equivalent of tender décolletage heaving with the emotion of the moment, conforming to the notion of a woman on the happiest day of her life. It's rather easy to accept this warm, peachy-rosy vibe which recalls the best-selling accord popularized by Lancome's Trésor in the 1990s. Marie-Hélène Rogeon, head of Les Parfums de Rosine, who put rose in the heart of the line as the surest sign of femininity and grace, envisioned a soft, gently powdery, clean yet quite musky, heaving fragrance that would lend itself to the day but also to the days to follow. Whether you're going to like this balanced fruity floral fragrance (graciously done with one lump of sugar, not two) depends on your associations with this hugging (and huggable) "accord" that takes with it a hint of retro cosmetics' violet nuance.

Perfumer Benoit Lapouza (best known for his Fan di Fendi editions and Si Lolita for Lempicka, but artistically vindicated on ICONofly's art project Attache-Moi) folded fruity notes (of which they mention lychee and peach) into the clean brilliance of orange blossom and the detectable floral note of rose, garlanded by accent notes that act the way a beautiful flower arrangement compliments the blush on a woman's cheek. It's young, but not too young, if you know what I mean. The character of the scent is lightly sweet, even if a gourmand scent fantasy of praline, choux pastries and whipped cream is evoked in the press material; and that's a good thing (contrary to -say- Repetto Eau de Toilette with its misleading ad copy)

If past collaborations are any indication, Rogeon had previously entrusted Lapouza with Glam Rose in 2011. The parallels with this new fragrance aren't as far fetched as imagined, the two sharing a generosity of past glamor and emotional directness. The eau de parfum concentration is quite tenacious, providing a rich experience, but without risk of suffocating those who will come in the perimeter of a kiss.

For our readers, two samples of the new pefume will be given away. Draw is open internationally till Thursday midnight. Please leave a comment to enter the draw.

Neela Vermeire Creations Trayee: fragrance review

Incense has long been not only one of the badges of niche perfumery, but also one of my own personal hot buttons, so it sounds both logical and anticipatory that a fledging niche line would want to include a declination of the genre in their wares. But when said genre is harnessed by perfumers of the calibre of Bertrand Duchaufour and infused with the phantasmagoria which must be Neela Vermeire's  creativity  then the resulting fragrance feels the way a kanchipuram saree looks: intricate, ever changing effect when the journey of the light, beautiful. Trayee (pronounced try-ee) is much more than an incense blend, which is no mean feat, given that incense is a difficult material to work with in the first place. But its intricate treatment must endear it to aficionados.

via wikimedia commons

Trayee is part of the original trio of fragrances issued by Neela Vermeire Créations which also includes Mohur and Bombay Bling (the fourth instalment, Ashoka, is launching soon). These Indian inspired perfumes, like Chants of India, draw upon the tradition, history and cultural milieu of that vast Eastern sub-continent in which Neela herself has roots. With Trayee rooted in the Vedic tradition (and utilizing several of the materials mentioned in the holy texts) I was instantly brought back to my university freshman year, when World Civilization was on the agenda under a highly idiosyncratic professor, himself the embodiment of intertextuality & erudition. That was the time when I briefly entertained the idea of learning Sanskrit, though it soon transpired it'd be full time job. But such was the pull that the the Sutras and the Ramayana and their colorful, conflicted and spiritual world had exerted on me and some of my fellow students.

I'm saying all this to atone for coming extremely late to the buzz around Neela Vermeire's creations, having had compartmentalized the perfumes in the "one day" mental drawer. That day came when Neela and I reconnected via Twitter. I say "reconnected" because Neela was, like me, part of the old guard of Makeup Alley: she has a genuinely lovely personality that leaps off the page and a deep knowledge of the Paris perfume scene where she used to organize visiting trips for perfumephiles.
All this intro would read like an apologetic text on a personal blog placating her feelings, had the fragrances been duds; but they assuredly are NOT duds -far from it. Not only are they intellectually stimulating and multi-nuanced, they combine the rich tapestry of colors that is the Indian peninsula with a very Parisian sensibility. These are truly "transparent orientals", modern and wearable, and therefore it comes as no surprise that Neela commissioned Bertrand Duchaufour to compose them for her niche line.

Trayee is much more than a simple incense blend, fusing the mystical with the sensual and the cerebral, like a trimūrti framework for the divine. This is reflected via the "notes" chosen for Trayee which comprise a wide spectrum, from the bittersweet facets of myrrh & musty oud, to the tried & true Indian fusion of sandalwood and jasmine all the way through the stimulating piquancy of spicy, stimulating notes (rich in eugenol). There is a dusty, grassy, cannabis-herbal accord which is close to the muddy feel of Timbuktu for L'Artisan Parfumeur, also by Duchaufour; not surprisingly, the interplay of earthy spices, mysterious blossoms and murrh & vetiver are present in both. Trayee comes across as somehow muskier, leathery, with a more peppery tang and a fully executed resinous, balsamic arc that recalls the smokiness of Annick Goutal's Encens Flamboyant. Trayee feels like rivulets of sweetish white smoke rising from a polished ceramic basin unto the blue skies, its dissipation unto the air gradual and mind-altering.



Neela Vermeire Creations Trayee notes:
Blue ginger, elemi, cinnamon, ganja accord, blackcurrant absolute, basil, jasmine sambac, Egyptian jasmine, cardamom absolute, clove, saffron, Javanese and Haitian vetiver, incense, Mysore sandalwood oil, patchouli, myrrh, vanilla, cedar, amber notes, oud palao from Laos, oak moss.

Trayee is available as an Eau de Parfum 55ml (in refillable flacons), available at select stockists and on www.neelavermeire.com, where you can find a discovery set.

Disclosure: I was sent a sample by Neela. 

Chloe See by Chloe: fragrance review

When she's gone, beautifully arranged in her coffin, her hair in loose curls, you never quite remember the color of her eyes or the timbre of her voice, there are no emotional scars of fights you had with her, nor mirth with which you shared confidences laying on the golden wheat of summer in the sleepy afternoon. She's gone, and it was really fine while it lasted, but little persists behind. We all have a relative like that. The See By Chloé eau de parfum is a bit like that, hard to sketch in a few striking, characteristic strokes, but at the same time difficult to dislike; a monochrome which hums with a familiar, harmless buzz which you really can't place.

via becauselondon.com

In an uncharacteristic discordance between ad copy and actual smell the See By Chloé offshoot of the Chloé fashion house introduces the new fragrance thus: "This fragrance captures the audaciousness and strong personality of the Chloé woman. An addictive floral fruity fragrance, it captures the irresistible and playful personality of a young woman fully embracing life. The fusing top of juicy bergamot and apple translate her energy and her urban edginess. Her natural feminity is conveyed through a beautiful floral bouquet of jasmin and ylang that grows into a sexy veil of vanilla and addictive musks."
 Rather contrarily I find that the becoming elements of the fragrance are its elegant powdery scent, which translates as a bit retro, its bitterish soapy trail, and its subtlety of ersatz fruits. The "energetic" part is clearly delusional, if by that we have come to expect upbeat fruit salads with added zing. Perfumer Michel Almairac took a zig when you expected him to take a zag and infused the fruity floral fragrance archetype with a soapy-smelling, aldehydic and musky bitterness which makes See By Chloé both eerily familiar (it reminds me of segments off Lauder's Pure White Linen, Essence by Narciso Rodriguez and something else, maybe Nude by Bill Blass?) and a bit like body products of yesterday.

In a way See By Chloé stands in media res in the Chloé narrative, as it is bookended by the silky powderiness of Love, Chloé (which I had pegged as a supreme parfum lingerie) and the scratchy soapiness of the re-issued Chloé by Chloé perfume.
If I were to bring a musical analogy, I'd say that while we associate most "playful, upbeat scents" with a C-sharp major key, this one plays definitely on a  D-flat major like a harp playing scales into infinity.

Essentially a linear perfume, equal parts feminine as masculine, with a fuzzy warmth which projects at a considerable radius, and a pronounced longevity especially when sprayed on fabric, See By Chloé strikes me as inoffensive and innocuous, probably aimed at a younger audience with no intricate expectations beyond the "you smell good" quip, and yet I can't bring myself to say it's worthless. It's slowly growing on me and though I realize that I have hundreds of bottles more interesting than this, if I were offered a small bottle of the eau de parfum I might find myself wearing it while solving the Sunday paper crosswords. (Though if I'm to take any clue from Bette Franke depicted in panties and a leather bomber jacket -and nothing else- in the ads I'm clearly wasting my Sunday mornings on said crosswords...)

The flacon is inspired by vintage bird cages, rather lovely to hold and with a nostalgic typeface. Model Bette Franke is the face of the advertising campaign. See By Chloe is available in 30, 50 and 75 ml of Eau de Parfum at major department stores.
More on the See by Chloe site.

Serge Lutens La Fille de Berlin: fragrance review

Much as Serge has always dwelled in the aesthetes of the 19th century, if there is one art movement of the 20th century which would reflect his innermost demons that would be German expressionism; the intensity of the play of light & shadow on the silver screen is a metaphor for the battle of good and evil. La Fille de Berlin, cool, powdery rose spiked with spices, and the latest Lutens fragrance in the canon, reflects the struggle of a soft feminine flower with the naughtiness of animalic winks; the two faces of Eve, which had fully prepared me to expect a Metropolis-rising Lang vision, real and artificial blurring. But I soon found out that Serge was influenced by Josef von Sternberg and his classic Der blaue Engel instead, not strictly in the genre but smack-down in the midst of it in 1930.

artwork by Alexey Kurbatov via artonfix.com

 

She's a rose with thorns, don't mess with her.
She's a girl who goes to extremes.
When she can, she soothes; and when she wants ... !
 Her fragrance lifts you higher, she rocks and shocks.
 ~Serge Lutens

German Expressionism never left us, really. The angular, shadowed architectural specimens encountered in places like New York City, reflected in the fantastical Gotham of the Batman series, and the numerous homages to emblematic leitmotifs of the movement, such as in the films of Burton, Proyas and -to a lesser degree- Allen, merely prove that the juxtaposition of light & shadow (a more schematic carry-over from the chiaroscuro of the Masters) is as relevant today as it ever was. After all, humans are a mix of the two, aren't they? More apropos, Serge Lutens might be making a cultural commentary of our times, right in the heart of the melting pot that is modern Europe: much as Siegfried Kracauer's study "From Caligari to Hitler" examines the trajectory from this strained, anguished cinema images of the Weimar Republik to Nazi Germany, today's world in crisis with the darkness prevailing in fashion & design might be a reflective prologue to an even darker, more sinister era. Respectable professors turning into ridiculed and despaired madmen, the light of the blond hair of Siegfried eclipsed.
Let's hope not, but it's a poignant and potent omen nevertheless.

The metallic opening in La Fille de Berlin fragrance predisposes for the treatment withheld for rose in Rive Gauche by Yves Saint Laurent; chilling and distant, as if hailing from the tundra. But give it a few minutes in the warmth of a Blue Angel's skin, hot off the beckoning performance on the stage, and it turns into the softest, velvety rose with a cardamom impression and the tartness of a hint of raspberry. But even warmer things hide in the background with an intimate and dirty musk and civet allusion (so very familiar in the Lutens opus) surfacing to wrap things in plush and sex.

Those who have found Sa Majeste la Rose too green-fruity for their tastes and his Rose de Nuit marvelously creuscular but too elusive, would find a good ally in La Fille de Berlin. I find it more feminine than shared, but if like Serge himself, oh gentle man you're of the "perfume is a celebration" frame of mind, you might want to try it out for yourself.

Thierry Mugler Alien Essence Absolue: fragrance review

The fragrance lurking inside the intensely yellow container of Alien Essence Absolue, that weird-looking bottle that looks like a pear mutated via the pollination of gold giant insects from outer space, is stimulating and totally unexpected with a softness, deepness and sexiness I didn't think possible.
Or did I?

The best attributes of the original, jasmine-typhoon Alien are kept. Faithfully. The intense longevity on skin, the radiance (minus the projection that extends to a 4-mile radius—this one is a little closer to the skin), the heart of surreal white flowers that seem as they're syphoned through a Space Age desert tent full of all the trappings of Arabia...

And yet Alien Essence Absolue brings on a warm embrace of amber, vanilla and incense that mollify the hard edge of that bright high-tech jasmine core. This newer version highlights the vanilla and bittersweet incense note over the rather more licorice-rich facets of the original Alien bouquet. The vanilla comes as a mysterious inclusion that is removed from the foodie varieties that recall cake batter and cookies; there are all sort of treacly and sticky off notes that resemble booze and tarmac-like gaiacwood. The almost suede-like softness is caressing, soft, a bit medicinal too, like a shaman's kit; the lure of a snake's tongue, dangerous and at the same time mesmerizing, poison and cure at the same time. The animalistic scent in the background has a honeyed facet, musky and lightly powdery, sweet and intimate. There is a precarious balance in this flanker scent that makes it good; you feel as if one tilt given and it might collapse, but oh, it doesn't.

In short, Alien Essence Absolue comes on the foot of Alien as one of the better examples in the Thierry Mugler line-up, which is quite a feat unto itself, bearing in mind Mugler has one of the most eclectic and intriguing fragrance lines within the mainstream sector.

Alien Essence Absolue was developed by (artistic olfactory director of Mugler parfums) Pierre Aulas with official fragrance notes of white jasmine flowers, orris root, black vanilla pod, incense, myrrh, white amber and cashmere wood.
Alien Essence Absolue is available as 30 and 60 ml Eau de Parfum Intense and a refill of 60 ml.

Frederic Malle Angeliques sous la Pluie: fragrance review

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

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

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

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

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

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

Parfums Weil Chunga: fragrance review & history

To understand the demise of Chunga is to realize that it is truly unmarketable in today's world: For a feminine perfume it flunks the test of being traditionally pretty or particularly becoming, demanding too much out of its wearer in both intelligence and attitude (After all it was advertised with the slogan "for women who want the world"). For a masculine (and men would be wise to try it if they can get their hands on some) it is an alien thing, being neither fresh -as is the majority of aquatic and aromatic fougeres around-, nor sexy -as are the orientalized woodies with succulent tonka and lots of sweet amber in the base. Maybe only Philip K. Dick replicas can wear Chunga by Weil right now, aside from dedicated perfumistas that is, which misses marketability points big time. But it's a shame, I can tell you that, because Chunga is a great fragrance coming from a great perfume house, the Weil fourruriers. (champions of the parfum fourrure notion)

The name comes from Micaela Flores Amaya, a Romani-born flamenco dancer known as "La Chunga" which translates as "the difficult woman"...and indeed the fragrance is somewhat "difficult" alright.
Introduced in 1977, Chunga comes in a string of great chypres with green elements and aldehydes that are elegantly assertive and resolutely determined: Chanel No.19, Lauder's Knowing, Coriandre by Jean Couturier, the first Jean Louis Scherrer fragrance. And thus lovers of the afore-mentioned perfumes are advised to seek out some Chunga for their collection.
In the print advertisements Chunga was targeting literally every woman and that included all races and all skin colors. A pioneering thought for a traditional French house! "Comme un nouvel horizon"...like a new horizon, which marked a new interest in encompassing more ethnicities in the game of perfume, reaping the benefits of feminine emancipation alongside the "black power" that emerged in the 1970s. Another set of print ads is tagged "et la fete commence" (i.e. and the celebration begins), showing a more typical couple in black tie in the midst of some dancing move, a more or less expected extension of perfume as a fashion accessory for a night out.

The olfactory structure of Chunga unfolds like a secret drawer within a drawer: The opening is aggressive, with its citric tang of bergamot and lemony tones sparkling like marble, with the particularly sharp incision of a scalpel, shiny and new and you think that it will remain arid and bitter and gloriously ingestible till the end, until the tables are turned and a second stage emerges. The base of Weil's Chunga is redolent of powdery amber, vetiver and a slightly urinous, honeyed, sweetish musky note that is quite retro; a throwback to days when bodies weren't deodorized to within an inch of their lives and hairy regions were much hairier than recent memory...on both sexes, that is.
The comparison with Weil's more popular and well-known, still-circulating-in-some-version-or-other Antilope perfume is not without its own value: Whereas Antilope is lady-like and more properly floral and feminine in the heart notes, Chunga like its name is butcher, more incisive, with elements that translate as more masculine or sharper. My own bottle is marked Parfum de Toilette, which nicely puts in it the early 1980s.

Chunga was the last fragrance issued by the house in Weil in 1977 and has since become a discontinued rarity. For those with an interest in chronicling the arc of the green, aldehydic, perfume-y chypre, it's incomparable and worth the investment.

Notes for Weil Chunga: aldehydes, bergamot, lemon, peach, clove, jasmine, lily of the valley, linden blossom, orris, ylang-ylang, amber, honey, Tonka bean, vanilla, vetiver, musk 

 pics via hprints.com, museodelparfum.com and punmiris.com

Parfums Lingerie: Scents as Delicate & Alluring as Feminine Underpinnings

An angel lay on the mattress and spoke of history and death
With perfume on her lingerie and whiskey on her breath 
~"Resurrection" by Ray Wylie Hubbard


Though not a technical term in perfumery jargon, contrary to for instance "animalic scents" or "soapy scents", there really isn't there a more to the point reference to what certain fragrances evoke: the delicate lace of a sexy ivory basque worn with silken garters, the smoothness of pink satin tap pants with matching camisole on spaghetti straps,  retro merry widows in black, or chiffon baby dolls puffing under heaving bosoms...the whole accessorized with pearls and marabou-trimmed slippers with a heel!

Kirsten Dunst seriously glam-ed up!

"Parfums lingerie", a self-coined term, therefore denotes in my mind a category of fragrances that exude romanticism, with a wink of eroticism, drawing as they do from the rich pool of traditional feminine accouterments (including cosmetics) and at the same time a sense of insouciance and nonchalance like the very vest pin-ups images has taught us to expect. Fun as the lingerie is to wear and fantasize, alone or with the company of a loved one, these perfumes are even more fun to don! You don't have to eschew your feminist ideas one iota, as perfume is such an insubstantial entity with no visual cues to not get attached to excessive baggage, and you can wear them in public without blushing a single bit. But the wondrous, stimulating effect of knowing you're wearing a "parfum lingerie" underneath it all very much resembles the tangible frisson of wearing exquisite underwear under your prim clothes.

You can of course turn to established lingerie brands offering their own fragrant interpretations: Agent Provocateur has the killer sexy Agent Provocateur chypre fragrance which is naughtier than whatever I had in mind (but really fabulous too!) Chantal Thomass, Fifi Chachnil or Sonia Rykiel who know a thing or two about intimate apparel all have their own perfumes out in the market (Love many of them personally, especially Rykiel's Woman, Not for Men and Fifi by Chachnil). Or we have Josie Natori suggesting her Natori Eau de Parfum, a most agreeable floriental with an ambery, soft-spoken background of powder and wood. But there's no need to pigeon-hole. Let's be creative, shall we?

Classifying "parfums lingerie" we come across several common traits in their technical make-up. These are usually fragrances with demure and elegant floral notes of a retro vibe, such as violet and rose, a romantic combination that also brings to mind cosmetics. But in parfums lingerie the effect isn't waxy or sticky (such as in F.Malle's Lipstick Rose for instance, the reference for lipstick scents) but rather airy, like a chiffon camisole that doesn't stick to the body, with an added soupçon of defiance and more emphasis on the violet and the ionones than on the rose. 
Rice-powder is a retro reference that can't but bring to mind glamour images of yore when actresses and opera divas were shown in front of their over-lit mirrors applying face and décolleté powder with fat, goose down puffs in pastel colors, dressed in silky robes. The fragrances that exude this powdery heaven are more delicate than the typical "powdery perfume" with orris notes combined with a little white floral (such as jasmine), a hint of vanilla and sometimes an actual rice whiff.


 Last but not least, whisper soft musks carefully poised between "clean musk" and "dirty musk" (none of the piercing laundry detergent type, nor the Lutens Musks Koublai Khan skank); sometimes with a heavier leaning into one or the other direction yet never overdoing it. These musks can employ the added softness of white flowers, tactile woods and a little billowy vanilla. These scents can play the seductive game of acting like virtual lingerie...even when you're wearing none!


Here is my selection of "parfums lingerie". I love wearing some of them when the mood strikes. All the while imagining myself a more alluring subject than I am...

Violet-laced Scent Underpinnings
Love, Chloé by Chloé
Drôle de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur
Météorites by Guerlain
Flower by Kenzo
Balenciaga Paris L'Essence by Balenciaga
Violet Blonde by Tom Ford
Violette Precieuse by Caron

Musky Charmeuses
Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker
Noa by Cacharel
Clair de Musc by Serge Lutens
Bois et Musc by Serge Lutens
Narciso for Her Eau de toilette by Narciso Rodriguez

Rice & Powdery Chiffon Scents
Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan
Kenzoki Rice Steam Sensual by Kenzo
Sophistique by Mark
Sake and Rice by Fresh

Which are your own favorite "lingerie fragrances"? Let me know in the comments.


pics via Pinterest.com/hercourt originally uploaded from freshpair.com, suicideblonde.tumblr.com, photoshootbloger.blogspot.com.au

bottle pics via girlwiththecuriousnose.blogspot.com & shoppingheavendotnet.blogspot.com

Perfumery Material: Cashmeran/ Blonde Woods

Thanks to its pliability, which fits like a glove many diverse compositions of different fragrance families, or thanks to its diffusiveness and tenacity, Cashmeran or blonde woods is a molecule which forms the core of many a modern perfume formula; a synthetic not found in nature but copiously used in products we use every day from soap to shampoo and deodorant.

Chemistry 
The proper name of Cashmeran is 1,2,3,5,6,7-hexahydro-1,2,3,3-pentamethyl-4h-inden-4-one. You might also come across it as "musk indanone" or "indomuscone". Though commonly refered to as "blonde woods" in perfume speak, the reality is that the ingredient Cashmeran (an International Flavors and Fragrances appelation) is actually a musk component with a yellow, trickly texture. Its scent profile takes over a vast sea between woods and ambers, abstract and indefinable. Not currently under the allergens list controled by IFRA it is used in a variety of products. There are som concerns that excessive use of polycyclic musks might do some liver damage, but we're probably talking massive amounts here.

The name Cashmeran derives from its tactile feel which recalls the smoothness and softness of cashmere wool.  Among the first perfumes to use it in a considerable degree were Loulou by Cacharel (1987) and Paco Rabanne Sport (1986).
as is Sexy Graffiti by Escada (2002). Tempting though it may be to imagine that modern best-seller Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan (1994) is full of it, in reality the powdery soft perfume doesn't use it.

Insoluble in water and hydrophobic, Cashmeran is therefore a prime target for use in functional perfumery too, since it won't rinse out: detergents, fabric softener, alcoholic lotions, deodorants, shampoos, you name it... But fine perfumery has profited of its advantages as well.

Scent Profile: Abstract, Musky, Woody, Concrete Hit by Rain
The diffusive, musky-woody scent is reminiscent of concrete (especially the abstract woody scent that concrete gives when hit upon by rain, a cityscape in the rain), also lightly spicy, lightly powdery. Though perfumers sometimes describe it to also have apple and pine facets I admit I haven't detected those myself. It is however used as a powerful floralizer as it aids the expansion and diffusion of floral notes, especially accords of jasmine, as in Thierry Mugler's Alien (it's also used in Womanity) or the lighter Flora Nerolia by Guerlain (where it's married to neroli and frankincense as well). Other cult fragrances to feature it prominently include the discontinued Feu d'Issey and Kenzo's Jungle L'Elephante and Jungle Le Tigre.
In Histoires de Parfums' Tuberose Trilogy, Gislain chose to include the note in the Tubereuse Virginale offering, where blond woods coexist with naturally cohabitating, heady white flowers on a base of patchouli and vanilla. Dans tes Bras by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle contains a hefty dose of Cashmeran alongside the violet nuances and so does his Une Fleur de Cassie, while Wonderwood by Comme des Garcons, Diptyque's Eau Particuliere, Nasomatto Duro, Byredo La Tulipe and Al Khatt by Xerjoff Shooting Stars collection are a few more niche offerings exploiting Cashmeran's diffusiveness. Perfumer Mathilde Laurent, currently in-house perfumer for Cartier, has a particular fondness for it.

How to Incorporate Cashmeran into Perfumes 
Blending well with other modern ingredients (ambroxan, allyl amyl glycolate, damascones, ethyl maltol...) as well as natural ingredients (frankincense, clary sage, citrus, geraniol, linalool, patchouli, tonka bean, vetiver, etc.), Cashmeran presents a vista of options for the creative perfumer.

It can serve woody or warm musk compositions (see Miami Glow by JLo), formulae resting on rose and saffron, tobacco or oud masculine blends (see Nomaoud by Comptoir Sud Pacifique or Byredo's Accord Oud), even perfumes with jonquil or cassie. It can even aid aqueous olfactory scapes, such as in Armani's Acqua di Gioia Essenza!
Tocca Florence, Tom Ford White Patchouli, Step into Sexy by Avon, Philosophy Love, Blumarine Innamorata, Kylie Minogue Dazzling Darling, Hugo Boss Hugo (in the flask bottle), Anna Sui Night of Fancy, Oriflame Paradise and Burberry Body are a few more of f the fragrances featuring this musk-woody component.

Another one of the advantages of this fairly inexpensive musky component is that it has a medium potency in volume projection, but a long trail that surpasses a full day's length. Being a mild sensitiser, its ratio is currently restricted to no more than 2% of the compound.

It's clear we will be seeing it more and more admitted as such in official perfume press releases in the years to come.

Frederic Malle Iris Poudre: fragrance review

There is a human, flawed sublayer beneath the icy, perfect Hitchockian beauty of Betty Draper from Mad Men, which manifests itself when the woman is emotionally beaten to pulp by the final realisation her husband is actually cheating on her. The mask-like layer falls off and the melting face, crumbling updo and wrinkly tulle dress falling off the shoulders instill human empathy in us, hinting at a crack of the perfect facade. Iris Poudre is the Betty Draper, née Hofstadt, in the Frederic Malle line of perfumes, the icy coolness of Grace Kelly incarnate, when faced with the line "You're so profoundly sad" to only tentatively reply "No, it's just that my people are Nordic". Brrrr...  

Iris Poudre needs no introduction, really. Catherine Deneuve cites it in the foreward of F.Malle's new book as the fragrance that drew her from her beloved Guerlain into "fragrance infidelity" with the likes of Malle & company. A random choice? I think not.
Within the confines of this much esteemed niche brand that caters to the tastes of perfumephiles and perfumers both, this scent holds a firm place of distinction due to its haute elegance: The former group appreciates Malle because they can sample the vision of some of the best noses of our days with trully good ingredients. The latter group because they are at last given free reign to do what they had always wanted to do but couldn't, due to commercial restrictions.

Inspirations
Iris Poudre was created by Pierre Bourdon, one of the finest noses in the field and arguably one of the most personable ones to talk to. Frédéric Malle reveals that it was the first fragrance created in the line: his collaboration and appreciation of Bourdon goes a long way back. The initial inspiration for Iris Poudre is a substance called "concrétolide", a legendary French iris base that was the heart of many perfume classics from the period between the two world wars. The finished result was drawing inspiration from the famous 1960s film Belle de Jour, starring none other than...Catherine Deneuve!
Malle professes that "if it were a garment, it would be a cashmere sweater - classic but personal, appropriate for most occasions, something one never tires of".

Scent Profile
Although touted to be a grand floral aldehydic, to me it has no distinct relation to aldehydic fragrances that people perceive as typical of their classification, such as Chanel No.5, Madame Rochas or Arpège. It is subtler and less sparkly, more softly, cooly powdery. However it does have touches of the chilly allure and rosiness of YSL Rive Gauche or Paco Rabanne Calandre, both scents with a beautiful coolness contrasted with a little warmth in the base. There is a repressed sensuality about this scent, like the cool exterior of perfectly proportioned glacially faced Severine who goes to spend the afternoons as a high-class prostitute in her sexual frustration.  Dihydromyrcenol gives that steely ambience of scrubbed countertops, hissy clean citrus. Muscenone (a musky substance) gives human warmth sensed underneath the perfect facade.

Iris Poudre utilises the caramel butteriness of tonka bean, the cosiness of the musks and just a hint of fluffy vanilla to instill that faint warmth that surrounds you like a precious pashmina on a chilly evening on a walk back from the theatre or an art exhibit. Until you hear that your husband slept with someone you wouldn't even consider worth sleeping with, of course!

Notes for F.Malle Iris Poudre : aldehydes, iris, ylang ylang ,rose, vetiver, musk, vanilla, tonka bean.

photo credits: top January Jones as Betty Draper from Mad Men TV show via wikimedia commons and bottom via telegraph.co.uk

Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu du Riz et des Agrumes: fragrance review

Despite allusions to Messianic status and references to a Far Asian dish full of endemic ingredients, Fils de Dieu is neither incense-based, nor is it foody in smell. Instead it shoots clarity, modernity and prized complexity into an age-old structure, the classic oriental perfume, making it shed its abundant sunshine like a golden ray shimmering onto yellow butterflies flying over the spring blooms in the balcony. Forget the controversy factor and scare-the-horses impact of the niche brand's infamous Sécrétions Magnifiques. This one is instantly (and easily) likeable stuff you will get serious milleage off; which I'd think defeats the brand's "perfume is dead, long live perfume" manifesto, but there you have it: they need to make wearable stuff too I suppose. Fils de Dieu is among their most approachable. 

Biko rice cupcakes from the Philippines

Etat Libre d'Orange describes its latest fragrance Fils de Dieu du Riz et des Agrumes (its full name meaning “Son of God of rice and citrus”) as "the one who brings on the light, the sunshine", drawing from the Philippines lore (its alternative name was Philippine Houseboy). Perfumer Ralf Schwieger (of Lipstick Rose fame), set to task by the brand's head Etienne De Swardt, took the basic structure of a classical oriental built on tart citrus and creamy ambery and vanillic notes (see Shalimar or even better the more legible Shalimar Light) and renovated it into a modern creation that registers as totally urban, totally effarvescent, totally wearable. But that's not to mean it wears thin or minimalist: the projection of the mouilletes on my library is reaching me, diffusing with gusto, in the bedroom and the sillage trailing off my chiffon blouse is enough to entice the neighbour meeting me round the corner to ask what I am wearing. "It's Fils de Dieu", I reply rather self-consious. "Oooh, sounds like one of those delectable things only you carry around here!" she replies with a resigned sigh. I oblige and write the name down along with intrstructions on where to get some.

That is the effect the new Etat Libre d'Orange fragrance has: uplifting, inviting, alluring, radiant. Despite the lack of heft its vanilla background has (forget thick, "burnt" too foody vanillas, this is nuanced and sophisticated), the tenacity of musk, the crushed flower petals and the profusion of leathery castoreum (reminiscent of a FarEast massage parlour) accounts for a composition that will get you noticed throughout the day. If the equally inviting Etat Libre d'Orange Archives 69 and their universally liked Like This is any indication, the French brand is following a certain kind of compositions quite purposefully lately. 

But the interesting thing about Fils de Dieu is the masterful playing of contrast and the injection of herbal into the classic oriental motif: the ginger (in itself having a citrusy facet) pairs with other hesperidic notes, notably sharp lime, starting with bracing, mouthwatering freshness (not unlike the bergamot-rich head note of Cologne Bigarade in the F.Malle line). There's the subtle and brief fennel-like note of shiso and then the perfume swims confidently into plush comfort through the milky-rice note of coconut-milk steamed rice. The zen-like effect of savoury rice cooking on the stove was perhaps most famously explored by niche brand Ormonde Jayne in Champaca: there's something home-bound and soothing about that smell and Linda Pilkington had revealed to me in an interview that she had envisioned it inspired by her Chinese neighbours cooking rice at their appartment every evening. Etat Libre had injected a rice note as a hint in their previous Putain de Palaces. But in Fils de Dieu the progression melds effortlessly into an intimate, gourmand aftertaste with lots of coriander (orange-saffron like, almost), a metallic nuance and suede, sultry leathery notes which retain the fragrance deliciously on both skin and cloth.

Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu, du Riz et des Agrumes is available from Henri Bendels, MiN New York and online from Luckyscent and Les Senteurs.


Notes for Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu:
Ginger, coriander leaves, lime, shiso, bergamot, Jungle Essence coconut, rice note, Jungle Essence cardamom, jasmine, cinnamon, French May rose, tonka bean, vetiver, musk, amber, leather, castoreum.

photo via cupcakeproject.com

Amouage Gold for women: fragrance review

Someone famous in the music scene, with whom we've been emailing, has mentioned Amouage Gold as the fragrance fit for an Oscars night. Not just wearing it in the audience, trying to steady one's shaky hands by resting them on the posh couture gown, but presenting. There just isn't any stage fright or wavering about Gold; it wears itself like a grande-dame, assured, polished, dramatic. This is a regal fragrance for a cool blonde of another era.

History
Amouage, the Omani firm who cater for the Omani royalty and those with a taste for French fragrance structures in Middle Eastern settings, went out of their way to make Gold, their first fragrance, sumptuous and fit for a queen; not a princess. Top perfumer was ushered in (Guy Robert, who gave us Equipage, among the most perfect men's scents, and the once wonderful Dioressence which my own mother so loved); the best ingredients were specifically harvested; no budget restrictions were made whatsoever; no focus groups. You'd have to envy the lucky perfumer who worked thus unrestrained. The year was 1983. At the time Amouage didn't benefit from the creative direction it has nowadays and the fragrance circulated simple as Amouage for women. Robert considered it the crowning glory of his career and characterises its dramatic progression as "symphony".

Fragrance Description & Classification
You might have witnessed Amouage Gold for women uttered in the same breath as Chanel No.5. As you would expect, given Guy Robert's credentials (he's the creator of Madame Rochas and Hermès Calèche) and the general mad rush Middle East has for Chanel (they're mad about Chanel), this isn't far off the truth. Yes, Gold is an aldehydic floral, in the general ballpark of No.5, a tad heavy-hitting and old-school (in a good way), lush, opulent and very luxurious, which uses traditional Omani ingredients re-adjusted in a classic French blueprint. If I were to be more specific, I'd say that Gold for women more resembles the hypothetical child of Lanvin's My Sin (long discontinued) and Houbigant's Quelques Fleurs (now sadly reformulated).
But if you only know Robert's famous aldehydics I mentioned, you get an idea of how Gold smells: I need to stress that in order to like it, you have to like fragrances in the floral aldehydic family (refer to this article to see what aldehydes are and here for reviews of aldehydic fragrances). And you might be questioning why splurge (50ml/1.7oz will set you back 285$) on a bottle when there are other things smelling like it. Good question! But somehow God is in the details and Gold appears richer, more opulent than any of them. This thing radiates off skin for hours and hours on end, it just won't go away; a bottle will probably last you more than any of us is expected to make it in sane mind.

The Omani materials used enjoy a rich heritage: "Today, as in ancient times, the precious resin from the very ordinary looking frankincense tree is harvested carefully by hand, by a select caste of tribal herders. The frankincense trees that line the Dhofar landscape in Salalah are protected and the mysterious allure of their scent is blended with a host of precious natural oils and essences to form the unmatched perfume that is Amouage. The essence of an incredibly rare variety of rose called the Omani Rock Rose is extracted and also used in 'Gold Amouage.' This special variety of rose grows and flowers for the briefest period each year on the slopes of the remote Jebel Al Akhder mountains of Oman. Myrrh, another core ingredient in Amouage is also from the Jebel Al Akhder region." [source]

The start of Amouage Gold for women is all powdery-soapy floral, much like the archetypal aldehydics of yore; golden honey limbs, falling on a dozen silk cushions. There's a clean vibe with lily-of-the-valley green floralcy, while at the same time you're miles away from the modern "clean" scents of laundry detergent & fabric softener. The fruity aspects are intergrained like brushstrokes in an impressionist painting; from a little distance it all mingles into a composition rather than individual shapes.The floral part is built on the intense chord of jasmine & ylang ylang that we also find in Chanel No.5, boosted by rose and a tiny touch of tuberose; in fact this floral chord most reminds me of Patou's classic Joy, though the whole composition does not. The natural floral, velvety sweetness is complimented by a dab of creaminess, provided -from what I can smell- from a little vanilla and sandalwood. The creamy aspect is what makes Gold so lush, so nectarous, so very sinful.
As the fragrance dries down, you're suddenly face to face with the revelation that the core structure is really that of a graceful woody floral with oriental elements: the scent becomes noticeably woody, with a downy, elegant polish that is clean and smoothed out on notes of lightly astrigent frankincense and myrrh with no smoke whatsoever and the enduring note of (rich and -again- similar to the old parfum edition in No.5) musk.The lasting power and sillage are phenomenal.

Notes for Amouage Gold for women:
Top: lime, apricot, peach, lily-of-the-valley, neroli.
Heart notes: rose, jasmine, silver frankincense, myrrh, rock rose flower, patchouli, orris, cedarwood and sandalwood.
Base notes: ambergris, civet and musk.

Concentrations Available & Shopping
Amouage Gold currently circulates as Eau de Parfum (which is plenty really!) and extrait de parfum. Older versions included an Eau de Toilette. I find the EDP the most pleasing form.
There is also a men's Amouage Gold version, which leans into the woody musk category rather than aldehydic, even though stating almost the same ingredients.

Stockists include the Omani Amouage boutique, the boutique in London and online such as at Luckyscent.
Check the official site at Amouage.com

pic of Anita Ekberg

Caron Nuit de Noel: fragrance review

To associate the creamy, reflective and rather introspective quality of Caron's Nuit de Noël (Christmas' Eve) with the naiveté and relative innocence of a Parisian Christmas' Eve Mass is to misunderstand it. If anything, it's a scent of late November, when huge plates of seductive marrons glacés start being displayed at the Viennese Café Bräunerhof, all starchy comfort and glazed vanillic sweetness, chased away by a shot of bitter Fernet Branca after a hearty meal. I'm instantly reminded of La dame aux Camélias (1848) by Alexandre Dumas fils, where marrons glacés were the only type of confection that the courtesan Marguerite Gautier would eat. Her clients were expected to buy bags of them for her to enjoy. Personally I expect my own admirers to gift me with Caron's Nuit de Noël instead; the two are closely linked in the amount of pleasure and allure they exude.

Nuit de Noël, composed by the founder of Caron, self-taught perfumer Ernest Daltroff, in 1922, is rumored to have been suggested by his longtime partner, Félicie Wanpouille, who adored Christmas Eve and the scent of warm furs and incense.
The black Baccarat botte with the golden frieze (like a flapper's headband) is forever associated with the Roaring Twenties, but the scent itself seems at odds with its times and partly its name; even though the intensely warm scent is as pliable and soft to the touch as the softest sable, a parfum fourrure indeed (with the more innocent meaning of the two), its mood is neither one of uproar nor of traditional Christmas smells (cinnamon, spices, pine, gingerbread, incense).Many insist on wearing it at Christmas' time, none the least of which is perfume collector and connoisseur Roja Dove and fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld.

Formula and Intricasies
Caron's Nuit de Noël (1922) is a soft oriental built on an accord of rose absolu and Mousse de Saxe perfumer's base (i.e. a ready-made accord of ingredients producing a specific effect), with the addition of 25% sandalwood, jasmine, ylang ylang, lily of the valley, vetiver, amber and iris. It's prismatically constructed around 6-isobutylquinoline, a leathery molecule.
The fragrance emits a cozy, inviting scent poised between the starch of marrons and the bitterness of the iodine/leathery note (hence my Fernet Branca evocation) fading into musky woods. Indeed the famous "Mousse de Saxe accord" is comprised of geranium, licorice (created with anise), isobutyl quinoline (leather notes), iodine and vanillin (synthesized vanilla). If older Carons, especially in their superior vintage form, are characterised by a signature "Caronade", a common thread that runs through them, Nuit de Noël is a good place to start this escapade into one of the most chic and historical French perfume houses.

Less incensey than similarly oriental Parfum Sacré, less abrasive or bold than straightforward leathery En Avion or Tabac Blond, Nuit de Noël has a sheen that starts and ends on an unwavering tawny pitch. The spiced rum-licorice notes aplified by musk (a musk comparable to that in Chanel's No.5 and Bois des Iles) take on a rich saturation; the fragrance dries down to a powdery warmth redolent of the bourgeois scents of a festive evening spent outdoors.

Comparing Concentrations & Vintage vs.Modern Nuit de Noel
The modern Eau de Toilette has taken a rosier take than the one in my vintage bottle from 1970 which seems oilier and darker in mood, with a heavier dose of ylang ylang. The Nuit de Noël extrait de parfum plays more on the leathery, woody notes of the Mousse de Saxe base, lasting for a whole night till the next morning; when you wake up and smell your pillow with all the longing of a passionate lover who is already missing what he has just now savoured.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: How to Date Caron's Nuit de Noel bottles, Caron news & reviews.

Photo from Jean Renoir's film La bête humaine based on the Emile Zola novel. Photo of marrons via 365thingsthatiloveaboutfrance.blogspot.com