Guerlain: Bois Torride and Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum: fragrant news

An avalanche of heads-up involving upcoming launches from major houses such as Chanel (Beige) and Hermès (Vanille Galante) were piling up and today Guerlain news join them.
We do cherish the opportunity to ponder on rumours in any case.
According to the very perceptive Kopah from Basenotes:

"It seems that the name of the next instalment in the L'Art et la Matière series may be Bois Torride. Guerlain filed an application for a European Community trademark for this name on June 4, 2008. (For the record, their applications for the names of the Elixirs Charnels/Carnal Elixirs were filed on April 28.) They have also recently filed applications for the script logo which appears above their shop at 68, Champs-Elysées, and for the phrase Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum".

Since the same happened when we were speculating what the newest Serge Lutens would be (and it did prove to be Serge Noire and how lovely that one is!) , it would be safe to predict that in a few months' time, we could be graced with more news about the newest Guerlain launch: Bois Torride (torrid wood). Might it be too presumptuous to hypothesize that it would not be the torrid, fiery, fierce composition that its name would suggest? There seems to be some sort of betrayal between name and concept in the L'Art et la Matière line especially: Rose isn't very Barbare, Cuir Beluga is only marginally reminiscent of suede, Angelique is not nearly Noire, Iris Ganache is rather gourmand but not very iris-like and Cruel Gardénia is neither cruel, nor gardenia despite its big appeal (leaving only Bois d'Armenie in the line smelling faithfully like the French curiosity "Papier d'Armenie").
In fact it seems to me that this playful interaction between expectations on part of the customer and finished result is at the core of the line. It just can't be random! And if so it shows a wry sense of humour for which we smirk ourselves.

This could also shed light into the relation between Thierry Wasser and the latest masculine Guerlain Homme: official info wanted Wasser to be the house's head perfumer beginning June 2008. Since Guerlain Homme was issued last July and since Wasser was -predictably- amicably seen photographed with Jean Paul Guerlain, with whom he collaborated on the fragrance, it stands to reason that Wasser can't have been highly involved in its conceptualisation (of which Sylvaine Delacourte must be much more responsible being creative director) or execution. On the contrary it seems that he must have been intent on the projects that follow soon: the three Carnal Elixirs of course and the upcoming Bois Torride. It does seem like too much projects in so many months, nevertheless.
I am also reminding you that "torride" was previously linked to Givenchy (Eau Torride) with lukewarm results, so I am hoping that Guerlain will have cards up their sleeve. The gender of the fragrance might also be grounds for speculation, since although woody fragrances are traditionally masculine, they might put a spin and present it as a unisex in the manner of the other niche/exclusives circulating at the Boutique Guerlain. After all, most of us perfume lovers are uninihibited enough to wear what we like regardless of artificial cliches pertaining to gender.
We will find out around December 2009, if my calculations prove to be accurate.

On the other hand, the name Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum sounds like a commemorative, special edition that should mark an anniversary or iconic landmark of the historical house's path to glory. I also see the bling factor of serious Baccarat packaging engraved with special touches that will ante up the price to stratosperical heights: A prospect that sheds a frisson of excitement through a collector's bloodstream and a trembling rattle into the wallet of many a Guerlain fan.
Alternatively it could just be an evocation of Paris in the way that Comme des Garcons has been inspired by characteristic places for their Incense Series. This time Paris being the place of inspiration, it can't fail but to bring to mind the cornucopia of scents we have come to expect from such a place and the grand tradition of French perfumery which Guerlain indeed evokes. This has the potential to be either heavenly or a complete and utter letdown given the tremendous magnitude of its mythos, so I am hoping that Thierry Wasser and Sylvaine Delacourt will be extra-attentive in how they go about it.

In any case, Guerlain has been harnessing the market in many inventive and marketing-perceptive ways lately and I am curious and excited to see what they will accomplish with these. We will report back with more as actual data unfolds in the following months.

Le Baiser du Hotel de Ville, 1950 Paris by Robert Doisneau courtesy of Amazon. Pic of Guerlain boutique, Paris, via the Perfume Bee.

When Pigs Start to Fly

Remember when a couple of days ago we -as everyone else, I gather- reported that Emma Watson would be the new face of Chanel for Coco Mademoiselle, replacing Keira Knigthly?

Well, bogus, Chanel publicists tell us... The Daily Mail (surely not the bastion of journalistic integrity) have probably got carried away with their hypothesis based on the fact that Emma had been wearing Chanel in all formal events lately (and why not?). It did seem rather too soon, one has to admit.
An anonymous reader of Perfume Shrine, who is obviously a Keira loyal fan, opened our eyes with their entertaining comments to this latest news. What can I say? Nice pic you chose, though, Daily Mail!

So, discuss among yourselves: Why the face of a new perfume is so important as to instigate false rumours? Why is it circulated in the press? How could the consumer identify with anyone, really, as the face of something abstract like a fragrance?

And a reminder: there are still samples available for Tulipano on the Hilde Soliani post, so comment there if you want to get the few remaining ones.

Pic of flying pig (cute!) from Anastrophe and Cheese.

Sarrasins by Serge Lutens: perfume review

~by guest writer Carmencanada

It is rumoured that soon Serge Lutens will relinquinsh the aromatic business and focus on his makeup line, hence the title of the review. Enjoy!


OVERTURE TO A SWANSONG

A la Nuit, launched in 2000, seemed so definitive a rendition that it was described on the Makeup Alley forum by Tania Sanchez (co-author, with Luca Turin, of a perfume guide to be published in 2008), as “death by jasmine”? It would seem as though Lutens had an afterthought about the way in which this headiest of the heady white flower notes could be treated. And why not? If it weren’t for the simultaneous release of Louve in the export line, itself a tamer reworking of the non-export 1998 Rahät Loukhoum, the issue of Lutens’s inspiration, now that his partner-in-composition Christopher Sheldrake has gone on to assist Jacques Polge at Chanel, wouldn’t be so worrisome. But, though Sheldrake is said to be pursuing his work with Lutens, there seems to be something seriously amiss in this pioneering, uncompromising, profoundly idiosyncratic house.

Sarrasins is quite a lovely scent, actually. First word on it alluded to a more saturated version of The Different Company’s Jasmin de Nuit, a spice-laced, transparent jasmine with notes of cardamom, star anise and cinnamon. And that seemed like a logical step for Lutens: to wed the soliflore to the spices he has been exploring in his recent, export-line Chypre Rouge and Rousse, as well as in the non-export Mandarine Mandarin.

But spices are never more than alluded to – the sweaty pong of cumin, perhaps, or the cold-hot burst of cardamom, clutched to death in jasmine’s cloying embrace. Sarrasins is essentially a big jasmine embellished by animalic notes – this is how the Lutens sales assistants characterize it when asked in which way it differs from A la Nuit. An extremely tantalizing, Dzing-like, dirty-salty whiff of the feline – civet, said the SA when I mentioned it – creeps out after a few minutes on the skin. Some ten minutes later, it is joined by musk, both the softer version developed in Clair de Musc and the skankier one that made the barbaric, iconic Muscs Kublaï Khan the king of the animal fragrances. But this hint of the feral never goes beyond the whiff; jasmine’s indolic leanings towards the shithouse, which should be exasperated by the claimed adjunction of a civet-like compound, are never assuaged. The big cat is shooed out by a note that could only be described as slightly petrol-like – characteristic of jasmine-saturated compositions like Joy – and that could be the “ink” note alluded to in the press release. The deep purple tint of the juice itself, perhaps a tribute to Arabic calligraphy, emphasizes the reference. But it doesn’t seem quite enough to do to jasmine what the ground-breaking Tubéreuse Criminelle did for its namesake flower: snatch the camphor-menthol notes of the tuberose absolute and push them to the fore in a jarringly seductive assault on the nose. The very knowledgeable perfume historian Octavian Sever Coifan, in his 1000 fragrances blog, states that he distinctly recognizes the same “very nice jasmine base” in Sarrasins than in other recent launches.

Granted, not all of the Lutens-Sheldrake compositions have been shockers: Fleurs de Citronnier, Clair de Musc, Santal Blanc, Daim Blond, to name a few, all conceived for the more commercial export line, are fairly tame, unlike the Palais-Royal exclusives and their flamboyant baroque style. The principle of Lutens’s most spectacular achievements was to exacerbate a note’s characteristics – the camphor in tuberose, the cold earthiness of iris, the dustiness of patchouli, the bitterness of oak, the piss-like ammonia of honey – until they nearly toppled over into ugliness. The Lutens wear you, rather than you wear them. They exist entirely on their own terms: like the mythical palace he is said to be eternally embellishing in Marrakech, and which almost no-one has seen (or had seen the last time I was in Morocco), they exude solipcistic aloofness. Olfactory exercises in the re-creation of a vanished Oriental realm, they are cruel genies in a bottle, hard to conquer – as American aficionados have long and bitterly complained of – and not rewarding to all.

Now it seems that Lutens, retreating further into the rarefied atmosphere of this realm, is unable to send his stately decrees all the way to the Palais-Royal. They reach us muffled, like afterthoughts – Gris Clair of Encens et Lavande, Louve of Rahät Loukhoum and now, in a puzzling reversal of the export/exclusive interplay, Sarrasins of A la Nuit...

Perhaps Serge Lutens feels that he has said all he had to say in his “chemical poems” (to quote Luca Turin’s beautiful expression). Perhaps the rumours are true, and he will soon conclude his masterful opus. Let’s just hope that his swansong is more definitive than the delicious, but not irreplaceable Sarrasins.

Pic of calligraphy by Iranian artist Hassan Massoudy with the caption "Don't spend two words if one is sufficient for you." (Arab proverb). It comes from perso.orange.fr