Nooud started with the spermatic idea by Spyros Drosopoulos, creative force behind the Dutch-based Baruti niche brand, of getting inside the construction of oud bases, used widely in the perfume industry these days, and searching for his own formula, his own truth. In this journey he stumbled upon the notion of nude, of skin, of bareness; and so from oud and nude evolved...Nooud!
If it also suggests there is no actual oud in it, it's because there isn't. Hence the magic of the illusion.
The Nooud fragrance remains the brand's best-seller, which is understandable, due to the wide demand for sensuous oriental scents for niche audiences all over the world nowadays. It feels like it's full of ambrette, or the musky odorants in its core at least, and it's truly compelling, poised between attractively bitterish botanical and skin-warm indulgent like the finest suede.
Although aimed at those who would be welcoming the idea of an oudh, burning Bakhour, I can definitely recommend it to people who love unsweetened musks. I can very well see how it's the best-seller!
The Diptyque story began in 1961 Paris at 34 Boulevard Saint-Germain with, at its heart, three friends driven by the same creative passion, who chose a Greek word which means a dual panel painting. Illustration was the very core of the founders, as Christiane Gautrot was an interior designer, Desmond Knox-Leet, a painter, and Yves Coueslant, a theater director and set designer.
From then on, inspired by their Hellenic treks along the Greek peninsula and its mountainous terrain, and from their country cottage on the picturesque Mount Pelion, buried amidst thick fig trees all the way down the sea front, they launched several classics, from Virgilio to Philosykos.
But the brand also presents a later day constellation of contemporary stars, like Eau Duelle and 34 Boulevard St.Germain. Picking just one is an Herculean task. The most sensual in the current rotation however is an easy choice. None other than Fleur de Peau.
Fleur de Peau relies on that rarity of the "musky idea": it harnesses the vegetal musks from angelica archangelica and ambrette seed oil, flanking them with ambrettolide, a macrocyclic musk which shares properties with ambrette seed and aids diffusion and lasting power. Thus the somewhat nutty, with a hint of berry, slightly sweaty and oddly metallic fusion of the properties in those fine musks gains the upper hand and makes Fleur de Peau very sensuous.
Fleur de Peau is soft, tenacious, with a discreet but perceptible sillage, radiant and glorious indeed. One of the better launches by Diptyque in recent years.
It's not a tentative preview but a well established ritual, but Musc Gold perfume oil by Italian niche brand Bruno Acampora always makes it seem like it's the very first, one's no-virgin-anymore time.
The particularly incongruent, yet oddly beguiling mushroom note that is at the heart of the original Musc is still subtly present (herbaceous, earthy patchouli), but patters out very quickly in order to give the bitterish salty semblance of naked skin which sweetens the more it stays on.
It makes me think of the words of E.E Cummings "in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they're too near."
When I first discovered The Body Shop I was a teenager. This also happened to be a time when the company was run by its founder, Anita Roddick, and not by the conglomerate that is L'Oreal. It gave a wholesomeness to the concept which I sorely miss.
I also miss (sorely!) some of those fabulous, early perfume oils with imaginative and totally incongruent names: Japanese Musk, Azmaria, Ananya and Woody Sandalwood (the latter was a huge hit on my crush!). These are no more... Thankfully, in an array of mainstream and much more forgettable scents that get discontinued at seemingly lighting speed, there are still a couple The Body Shop fragrances that manage to capture my interest. The latest has been Red Musk.
I discovered Red Musk on the recommendation of a friend from a fragrance board and I thank her for it. I bought the perfume oil on the spot and didn't regret it. The advertising copy insists this is a spicy and unconventional fragrance for fiery situations, but what I get is the cozy core of the original White Musk powdery scent drydown, ornamented with the lushest tobacco and dried fruits overlay. In a way it's like a lighter, subtler Burberry London for Men, a very fetching scent in its own right. Red Musk is like a fluffy terry robe that a handsome man who smokes pipe tobacco with apricot flavor has worn for a few days; it has that soft, enveloping lived-in feeling that is both a consolation and a longing, and I happen to be a total sucker for this kind of scents. Maybe you are, too?
There are as many types of musk as there are flowers in the field. Musk has diverged from a single ingredient to a pleiad of genres within a scent group. Although most divide musks roughly into either the "clean" or "dirty" camp, depending on whether they replicate respectively laundry detergent ingredients or the nether region gland secretions of a small animal, it is possible to profit of both worlds.
New Musk Oil belongs to the first camp, yet, without embracing any characteristic of the second, it manages to eschew the clinical sterility that some of its compatriots share. It's clean to the degree that a freshly washed apricot fruit is clean enough to eat. But that does not detract from the fact that it's a succulent, living thing in the palm of your hand, and that you can feel the palpitations of your own heart settle down as you consume it in abandoned pleasure. New Musk Oil is like that; it possesses an unusual fruity quality about it, under the primness of the more standard lily of the valley that's par for the course within this genre of clean musky scents, which recalls an apricot flavor. In fact I'd venture that it shares DNA with another lightly apricot-tinged fragrance in the line, namely Soliflore Osmanthus (osmanthus is a tree with small apricot-smelling blossoms). Makes sense.
Considering that the sensuous application of an oil to one's skin uses touch as the cornerstone of predisposing for the "my skin but better" effect, and that New Musc Oil shares the exact same formula with the alcohol-based New Musk Man cologne, I'd say that with this pretty and lasting oil from Dame Perfumery Scottsdale has won the hearts of women. Not only in the capacity of being attracted to the man who wears the scent, but in the capacity of claiming the oil as their very own.
Like the best out there it looks wholesome but holds a treasure of nuance inside.
Originally released to coincide with the spring equinox and Nowruz (the Persian New Year), the intoxicating floral confection Musk Malabi by Ayala Moriel is unabashedly feminine, subtly exotic and hopelessly romantic, evoking for the wearer a sensory experience not unlike a passionate love affair. Musk Malabi was inspired by and named after a traditional Middle Eastern dessert, malabi—a milk-based pudding or custard, thickened with rice flour, which israelikitchen.com describes as "You'll taste rose-flavored sweetness and a light, creamy texture that keeps you dipping your spoon back in till the Malabi's all gone". (Actually the artisan perfumer has a recipe for Malabi on her blog!).
The scent of Moriel's Musk Malabi is a rich, milky-smelling, lactonicmusk with a lightly coolish top note, sweetly petering out to rosewater and orange flower water. The result is a succulent and sensual confection that can only be enjoyed in the context of one loving sheer, plush, sensuous scents meant to be shared between lovers; spoonful by spoonful, preferably as the final courting phase before other things happen or as an intimate refueling of energy… Although this description might tend to stigmatize a musk fragrance as being a tad too intimate for comfort (if you know what I mean), there is no such danger with Musk Malabi, because the succulence outweighs the usual funky scent of "musk". The fusion of vegetal sourced musk-smelling materials is an intricate but rewarding experience for the perfumer who ends up with a mix that alternates between warm and cool and complements perfectly with the milkier (like sandalwood inflected rose) and fluffier notes (imagine a downy soft note of orris and vanilla, even though I'm not sure orris is included in the official set of notes)
Having grown up in Israel, the sights, sounds, and smells of the Mediterranean have always been a source of inspiration for Canadian based indie perfumer Ayala Moriel. "What has always captured my imagination about malabi is its soft, evocative-sounding name, and its unique fragrant combination of rosewater and neroli water," explains Ayala. "Rose and orange blossom are such noble flowers yet oh so different."
Tunisian neroli and Turkish rose meet with musk in the heart of Musk Malabi, creating an unusual and mesmerizing triad. This botanical musk, designed to smell as close as possible to deer musk, brings an effortless fluidity to this magnetic fragrance, playing the role of Cupid in the fragrance and drawing the lovers (rose and neroli) together. There is also cardamom, coriander and blood orange on top.
As with all Ayala Moriel perfumes, Musk Malabi is all-natural and free of animal cruelty, created entirely of botanical essences. The top and heart notes of this sensual fragrance rest on a silky bed of atlas cedarwood, botanical musk and Tahitian vanilla.
Good deed bonus in purchasing: Ayala Moriel Parfums is donating 10% of sales to aid Syrian refugees.
Musk Malabi is available in eau de parfum 4 ml ($49) and 15 ml ($119) bottles on the official website of Ayala Moriel Parfums and the Vancouver Giving Gifts & Company.
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.
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.
Notes for Blanc de Parisby 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
Musc 25 by niche outfit Le Laboreminds me of The Body Shops' White Musk, more than I'd care to admit for something super-exclusive (only Los Angelitos are privy to it) going for a matching pricey tag: The squeeky, almost white-snow reflective cap of citrusy-rosy aldehydes and the laundered scent of lily of the valley on top, underscored by the familiar sweet warmth of synthetic musks, creates an effect of radiant, well-meaning, inviting vibes all around, but with a slightly mysterious touch too. Le Labo advertises it as a "dirty, sexual, decadent" musk with "the devil itself" included; colour me utterly dumbfounded! Have they smelled Miller Harris (gorgeous) L'Air du Rienor the (ultra cuddly, ultra controversial) Muscs Koublaï Khan by Lutens? [If you don't know the first thing about the distinction between clean and dirty musks, refer to this link]. That's not to mean that Musc 25 is bad, because it's not, as long as one knows what to expect.
Musk is suich a misunderstood word anyway, since most people have never smelled natural deer musk to begin with.What IS "musky"? To many it means "heavy, dense, opressive", to others "oily & unwashed", to some it stands for what perfumery jargon categorises as "mossy", to others still it bears a "cheap" association through long familiarisation with drugstore musks. Perfume vocabulary is unchartered territory to the general audience. So many "musk" fragrances on the market (drugstore too) are mixes more than single note explorations as well. I guess the only way is for you to make things clearer for yourself is to check out our Scented Musketeers Series on musk perfumes and grab some samples to explore for yourself.
"Musc 25 is Le Labo’s LA exclusive scent. Why you ask ? Because genderless angels have to be tempted into the smell of life. Musc 25 is white, angelic, very musky and aldehydic, and so intensely luminous that you will need to wear shades to approach it. Yet despite all this heavenly white, it’s core is somber, devilishly dark, so much so that it wakes up your inner demons that are anchored in sin and in animalic notes that are sensual, sexual, and decadent. Its altar is made of vetiver, ambergris, more musc, and more civet and of the devil itself. Enjoy the ride of L.A 25, oops, we meant Musc 25."
Le Labo Musc 25 has fragrance notes of: aldehydes, lily of the valley, rose absolute, vetiver, cedar, patchouli, ambergris, musc, and civet.
Le Labo Musc 25 is a Los Angeles exclusive retailing at $290 for 50ml, but only for the month of November it is globally available at Luckyscent and on the official Le Labo site.
The Los Angeles Le Labo boutique is at8385 W. 3rd St., Los Angeles, (323) 782-0411
Disclosure: I was sent a sample by the company for reviewing purposes.
Roucel had envisioned Musc Ravageur to communicate both "seduction and generosity". It was based on a fragrance formula he had developed in 1998, but which was deemed too racy to launch by most companies. Yet Roucel considered it one of his best works.
One more attuned to the American culture could claim this oriental would perfectly encapsulate those women which on US soil are called "skanks". Gallic civility probably restrained Roucel from voicing that thought. Yet, "skanky" doesn't necessarily denote negativity: A hint of vulgarity is often the element that puts the final brushstroke on a picture of beauty. Don't most vintage classics include such a note amidst all the refinement? Isn't a falling, slightly greasy tendril of hair or a little smudge of the eyeliner a promise of things unravelling later on? Isn't a small hole on the stockings an invitation to tear them apart? And isn't a slap begging to be chased with a kiss?
People react to it with either swooning indulgence or utter disgust and it's fun to see it never plays out the way one expects.
Demi Moore was shopping at Barney's some time ago observed by sales associates with loose mouths, whereupon she asked to try the Malle line. Upon being presented with Musc Ravageur she stopped the guy saying "Oh no, I don't like musk". After being shown the entire line, she was again presented with the infamous Musc without being told the name: "You saved the best for last" she murmured, her wrists stuck to her nose. [source] George Clooney and Pierce Brosnan have also fallen under the scent's charm (not on Demi, necessarily, we presume), so...India Knight, the British writer at any rate calls it "the olfactory equivalent of lucky pants". I defer to her experience of prose.
The incongruity: Scent vs. Name
In Musc Ravageur the explosive departure of bergamot, tangerine and cinnamon is set against a backdrop of vanilla, musk and amber. No flowers, just a refined skin scent. Yet contrary to name, Musc Ravageur isn't really about musk! On the contrary, there's a little synthetic musk and quite a bit of castoreum and civet in it (both of synthetic origin). And the reason I am including it in a section devoted to musks is mainly due to nomenclature and readers' expectation. If you have been fearing (or loving, like myself) the reputation of Muscs Kublai Khan and Christopher Brosius I Hate Perfume Musk Reinvented, you will be puzzled indeed by this one, recalling as it does the base of such classic orientals as Shalimar or even less classical, like Teatro alla Scala by Krizia.
Preceded as it is by its reputation as a best-selling fragrance in the Malle line, we're left with an incongruity: Is the audience buying fragrance from one of the quintessential niche lines really into feral mojo or are they searching for something else? Smelling Musc Ravageur on skin one cannot but form an opinion towards the latter. Musc Ravageur, just like the big paws of its creator, is more of a naughty & voracious home cat with a furry tongue giving you a bath, rather than a wild tiger in the jungle shredding its prey in pieces. A very sensual amber -rather than musk, compare with Kiehl's Original Musk oil for instance- is hiding in the core of the fragrance.
A characteristic and fairly dramatic citrus-spice top note is immediately perceptible (I detect mandarin, clove, cinnamon and possibly some lavender as well), which recalls the Gallified "oriental" mould in the most classical manner, and a silky vanilla dry down which isn't really sweet, but interplaying between warm & cool. In fact this drydown is structured by woods which offer the spine of the perfume: cedar, sandalwood and the warm gaiac wood. The artistry lies in having the amber-castoreum basenotes perform like a Chinese gymnast: all over the place, but with an elasticity that creates the illusion of weightlessness!
The shopping part: What and Where
The scent is presented in Eau de Parfum classic alcoholic version (which is a characteristic spicy ambery oriental) and in the Huile A Tout Faire oil version (a smooth clear oil for use on pulse points, hair or all over after the bath). The latter in my opinion is a lot smoother, rounder, with less of a spicy-lavender note on top, and extremely erotic, much more so than the somewhat "loud" spray. Both are fit for both sexes, amplifying what you naturally got. There is also a body products line available, including shower wash and body lotion, over which I still prefer the oil.
Pierre Guillame, the young and charismatic perfumer behind the Parfumerie Generale line, composed an unusual gourmand musk with subtle animalic vibrations beneath, like a male lion heard from a distance, which gives pause to think: Is it foody? Is it in dried fruits & wood Lutensian territory? Is it powdery musky? What is it exactly? There's nothing more exciting than a perfume that throws all caution to the wind and perplexes.
The opening of Musc Maori is as promised a strong, sweet cocoa note (juiced over by bergamot & orange) and with the smell of planked woods on which a subversive non homemaking type is preparing chocolate-chip cookies with a dash of Tia Maria coffee liqueur. Yet the aroma of chocolate slowly dissipates and we're experiencing the rise of a powdery, warm, almost clean musk with vanilla in the background, as if the person in question is slowly heating up in that enclosed space of the kitchen, "cooking" alongside the cookies, revealing the fleur de peau note that musks are famous for. After all, musk (like patchouli) does have a natural aspect of cocoa, so it makes sense to pair the two. A hint of floral (jasmine?) wrapped up in cellophane is peeking through, there is a rubber, dusty wood-glue note which is discombobulating. (Might I venture there is some Okoumal aroma-synthetic by Givaudan in there?)
Of course Tonka beans already have a chocolate facet, so coupled with a lactone and vanilla they would give this feel of chocolate being heated up. If it were naughtier, it would evoke bedroom play involving dribbled chocolate syrup, but it doesn't cross the line, even though it tethers there for a few seconds in promise. The overall impression is one of a linear, uncomplicated scent, which doesn't transform through distinct stages, but rather performs a diminuendo of its original motif.
You have to at least like gourmands to appreciate this one, although it isn't your typical Angel clone where the caramel and Caspirene glob you on the head, nor is it as dry and espresso-laced as the refined patchouli in Borneo 1834. The buttery, lactonic feel is reminiscent of Matin Calin by Comptoir Sud Pacifique, so those who like the latter and want a chocolate-milk version or one which reminds them of Palmer's Cocoa Butter Lotion should try it. The Non Blonde compares it to Lea Extreme without the almond-coconut tonality and I will take her word for it. I guess this makes it more feminine than unisex, although adventurous males with a sweet tooth might want to try it out. Musc Maori by Parfumerie Generale is something to be sampled for sure anyway: I can't think of a weirder, more kinky musk out there!
And since we're talking chocolate, how do you like yours? Dark, milky, in-between? With filling or not? Particular brands? I'm hungry! Notes for Parfumerie Generale Musc Maori:
Bergamot, cocoa bean, Cumaru wood, coffee tree blossom, amber, Tonka bean, white musk.
Musc Maori 04 circulates as an Eau de Parfum which lasts for ages, in both 30ml/1oz, 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz sizes, available at Luckyscent, First in Fragrance and The Perfume Shoppe.
Royal Muská is a relative newcomer in the game of musk fragrances, being issued by niche brand M.Micallef in as recently as 2008, yet it has gained something of a cult status already, thanks to its cloudy soft, warmish personality, with a gentle sheen like mother-of-pearl and a ray or two of the sun hidden in there.
Fragrantica describes it as "the fragrance of tanned skin, of hot days and sultry nights" and classifies it under "fruity floral". How can a musk be tropical, you ask? Well, with the suffusion of salicylates, molecules naturally present in ylang ylang essence, of which perfumer Martine Micallef made ample use. The effect is like a delectable whiff of baked skin, almost amber-ed over with a hint of Ambre Solaire suntan lotion, but only a little. It's also rather soapy (rosy aldehydic), especially when smelled at an arm's length rather than up close, yet without any harsh alcaline edges or lily-of-the-valley "clean" vibe. Yes, it's a clean, white musk, but not quite. The best way I could describe it is "hazy", puffy-pillowy and honeyed sweetish, a real skin-scent. Then again you might heed Katie Puckrick's warning if you're averse to musks in general, who says "on paper it seems like the kind of thing I'd dig. But I don't. It bugs me. Seems a little rank, like the inside of my friend from 6th grade’s not-very-clean house". In fragrance parlance, this is often associated with "mature" scents and I guess it is, somewhat, although it certainly lacks the complexity of old blends which incorporated musk as a supporting actor rather than the protagonist.
Royal Muská comes as an Eau de Parfum and is usually referred to as Royal Muska, the accent omitted in oversimplification, so don't get alarmed if you find it with either spelling online. More feminine than unisex, although theoretically it could be carried by both sexes. And caveat emptor regarding possible musk anosmia just like with Musc Bleu by Il Profumo applies here as well. The rectangular bottle is impressive and luxurious, even better looking than the round Micallef ones.
Notes for M.Micallef Royal Muská: Ylang ylang, rose, white musks, precious woods, fruit notes, crystal musk and benzoin.
Musc Bleu was created by the Italian brand Il Profumo and the perfumer Silvana Casoli in 2004. There is a European feel about it, no doubt, as it avoids the mall associations and the dense, heavy feel of most musks found there, as well as the pervading, cut-through-the-air sharpeness some of them in the "white musk" camp possess (aimed at cutting through the mall smells of cinnamon rolls and candied popcorn emanating from the multiramas). The tradition of Eau de Cologne underscored with musk for its lasting power is ingrained in the Mediterranean basin and people react well to those undefinable base notes, so it doesn't surprise me that this is an Italian product. Personally, I have little use for such an opaline musk, unless I had been stranded on a deserted island on which the givens of civilization were severely compromised and I needed to create distractions that would fool me into believing I'm in less hardship than I would really be in. Nevertheless, I cannot deny its wearability and "easy", polished feel which accounts for its tremendous appeal to those hankering after "clean" smells reminiscent of dryer sheets, yet without any allegiance to "drugstore musks". Or those who are in favour of "scent layering", a process in which one sprays a "base" fragrance underneath a second one which is more nuanced and in a different style. Musc Bleu would be the perfect canvas, exactly because it's so pliable to just about any other material coupled with it. Again, not my thing, but I can see how others would like it a lot.
The scent of Musc Bleu doesn't reveal floral facets ~beyond a hint of ylang ylang and the "scrubbed" aldehyde that stands as cyclamen~ like most "white musks" do (refer to our article on types of musk). Instead it has a delicate powdery and soapy feel which is girlish, comfortable and dicreet. It oscillates between a tonic freshness and cozy warmth, which bridges the gap that several musk fragrances create, veering as they do to either one or the other direction. It wouldn't be out of place in the office or the seat right beside at the underground and it fits well in the evenings as well, if you're after an innofensive smell which will be detected only when you hug someone. In fact, I bet several people might be anosmic to it, due to its lightness. Musk anosmia is a phenomenon common with people, as musks are just about the maximum size of molecules a nose can handle, so perfumers routinely use a couple of different musky ingredients (please refer to our article) to combat that. Still, there are people who have an "umbrella effect" anosmia. For those, something else might break through. For the rest, it is a light musk, don't expect anything potent. Even though Musc Bleu seems light and vanishing into skin in about an hour, it doesn't disappear. It becomes a "skin scent" (a scent that feels like your own skin) with a very satisfactory lasting power if you lean closer. The concentration is described as "parfum" by the company (denoting concentrated essences), but it reads as a lasting Eau de Parfum to me. There is a pronounced reminiscence with Musc Blanc by Les Bains du Marais, another clean musk which doesn't read as "metallic", yet the latter is a little more expensive and to my experience a little less lasting.
Two versions are available by Il Profumo, Musc Bleu and Musc Bleu Absolu Osmo. Between the two, the Absolu is richer, fuller with a silkier feel to my nose, probably due to the abcence of alcohol in the formula. Please note the latter doesn't come in a spray, but as a splash or dab on. Available at Luckyscent and First in Fragrance and also as of this minute, at a nice discount, on Amazon on this link.
Notes for Il Profumo Musc Bleu: Neroli, black geranium, ylang-ylang, cyclamen, musk, oakmoss, woods, white sandalwood.
Amidst the plethora of musk fragrances on the market, some stand out as being individual and bearing their own signature. Decades before Serge Lutens came up with the beastly cajole of Muscs Kublaï Khan, the old New York pharmacy of Kiehl's had broken down that bastion with their Musk fragrance. Its voluminous, expanding earthiness will give you a jolt, searching for that hippy relic sitting some pegs below at the cinema or the theatre (or even the amphiteatre, but let's not go there now). The essence of a seriously funky persona which might have been travelling back from an ashram in India or some Goa hot-spot du jour! Alongside personal enlightenment in the 1960s, there came the musks and the patchoulis essences which characterised a whole generation. And it seems Kiehl's was intent on the pulse despite being founded as far back as 1851.
The archived date for the introduction of Kiehl's Original Musk is given as 1963. However, the company likes to hint with their Musk 1921 oil in the Essences collection (the "essences" are oils on which are thematically based the Eaux de toilette) that the recipe goes far back, since their pharmacopoia dates to several decades before. But here's the catch: It couldn't have. And the reason is one of science & history coherence. Simply put, the musks contained in the formula did not exist before WWII! Even though naturally derived macrocyclic musks like Muscone and Exaltolide existed before that date, their price was very high (Muscone's still is) and there could never enter the formula of a "drugstore" perfume. Therefore, the now banned nitromusks were the appropriate choice for those purposes. And this gives rise to another point, which explains the prevalence of so many "musk oils" in the market (certainly so in the 1960s and 1970s), especially at the very low end of the deal, such as Bonne Belle Skin Musk and Jovan Musk oil: These musky ingredients were almost insoluble in alcohol, rendering an alcoholic version of a fragrance very difficult. This also answers my own question, in regards to why some musk fragrances circulating today have a moniker of "musk oil" on their brand name, even though they're in alcoholic form, like the wonderfully rich Jean Louis Gady Musk Oil Eau de Toilette or the drugstore cheapie beautie Gosh Musk Oil No.6. The answer is, they are probably referring to a prior oil-based formula and have substituted the -now banned- nitromusks with an alcohol-diffusing musk component or two (after all, the polycyclics Transeolide, Celestolide and Galaxolide are very, very popular in the modern fragrance industry, as attested by our article on the subject linked)
Smellwise, Kiehl's Musk 1921 (and to a lesser degree the alcoholic Eau de Toilette Original Musk) is indeed close to Muscs Kublaï Khan, albeit a bit rawer and with a muted, hoarse voice instead of the baritone refinement of the Lutens. Compared to another musk fragrance with a certain reputation, Musc Ravageur by Maurice Roucel for F.Malle, it lacks the sweet spice and is a more to the point musk which can be worn by either sex. At the very start, there is also a similarity of Kiehl's Musk with Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent, which fades later on. The beatific darkness is peeking beneath the floral notes and reveals in fine print what the headlines try to conceal: Here is a living, emoting, squirting human being who hasn't really washed well for a while. If you're not absolutely fanatical about sterilisation, you might get the point in the above.
Notes for Kiehl's Original Musk: Top: Bergamot nectar, orange blossom Heart: Rose, lily, ylang ylang, neroli Base: Tonka bean, white patchouli, musk.
Kiehl's now circulates an alcoholic Eau de Toilette Blend No.1 version of their Musk -apart from their famous oil Musk 1921-, which is tamer (probably due to the exclusion of nitromusks), less skanky and somewhat close to White Musk for Men which The Body Shop introduced a couple of seasons ago. It retails for 39$ for 1.7oz. on the site. The current ownership by L'Oreal probably means that the cosmetic concerns overshadow any potential adherence to old formulae even more pressingly. Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The Musk Series (ingredients & cultural history), Scented Musketeers: Musk fragrances reviews. Photo by Robert Mapplethorpe, Thomas Williams 1987 via cegur.com.
Bois et Musc is totally unisex, completely ageless and a superb skin-scent (i.e. smelling like human skin would if only angels and devils had cradled it), what the French call "à fleur de peau". Possibly, the idea which perfumer Christopher Sheldrake had in mind when describing a "sexy", attractive scent. And this is even more so the case than in Clair de Muscwhich misses by an inch via its opaline soapy florals that read as ethereal. In contrast this is nothing like a white musk: In fact it's closer to intimate and impolite, but it's so noble that it invests naughtiness with impecable manners. A sort of Fanny Ardant in a François Truffaut film, totally French.
Bois et Musc is a Paris exclusive, sold at Les Salons du Palais Royal only, in the beautiful bell-jars of the exclusive line 75ml Eau de Parfum for 110 euros.
For our readers: One lucky reader will receive a big-sized decant of this exceptional, Paris exclusive fragrance. Comment if you want to be eligible. Draw will be open till Sunday midnight.
Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Scented Musketeers (musks reviews), The Musk Series: ingredients, classification, cultural associations
Contrasting Clair de Musc to heavy-lidded, grimy and intimate Muscs Kublaï Khan by the same house, they couldn't be furter removed from one another in either concept or execution: Celestial creaminess on the one hand, afterglow raunchiness on the other. One feels platimum white, the other tawny.
Clair de Musc is ~atypically in the Lutens canon~ an angelic semi-vegetal musk (ambrette seed alongside synths, Habanolide I would wager); aldehydic, yet not totally soapy (Fleurs de Citronnier has a soapier musk base) neither "sharp" (Ã la L'Eau par Serge Lutens). It twists the idea of musk into an ethereal version of talcum-powdered chubby-peachy cheruvim with a floral underside, hold whatever "dirty aspects" i.e. indoles those flowers initially possessed; a skin-scent of juvenile, crisp flesh which almost "cracks" underneath the teeth. Which might explain why men love it on women. In our eternally seeking the youthful culture, Clair de Musc is a seduction that doesn't pose as seductive: The "innocence" of shorn pubes...but without a iota of crassness or malice.
In formula terms, there is a clear reference of aldehydics and florals of the past, intertextuality scatterings amidst the authoring, of which perfumer Chris Sheldrake surely was fully in control: the luster of both Chanel No.22and No.5, the cool vibrancy of powdered class of Iris Poudre by F.Malle, even the drydown phase of Le Male by Jean Paul Gaultier (a cologne formula almost entirely comprised by musks anyway)
For what it is, a delicate "white musk" composition, this Lutens creation issued in 2003 can be deemed overpriced, as there are indeed lots of musks of that concept (albeit not exactly of that stature, this is smoother than most) across different price points. And it is no match for more complex musk fragrances such as the delightful and lamentably discontinued Helmut Lang. It is superb for layering purposes nevertheless, if you're after that sort of thing, and it is among the easiest to approach in the eclectic Lutensian portfolio. However, my own personal preference is always the dirtier, cosier brother with the heavily-bearded visage, Muscs Kublaï Khan...
Although to any lover of classical music the instinctive association would be with Claude Debussy's Clair de Lune, I chose a different, less troden path, which is none the less evocative: "Dance with my own shadow" from Gioconda's Smile album by Greek composer Manos Hadjidakis. (set in a beautiful video by Omiros2)
Notes for Serge Lutens Clair de Musc: bergamot, iris, neroli, jasmine, orange blossom, sandalwood, musk.
Clair de Musc is part of Serge Lutens export line, fragrances carried at select stores around the world, presented in the familiar oblong bottles of the brand.
There are few images more precious to an adult than one that involves angst-ridden teen years, when we spent our time snatching vintage stuff of our mother's wardrobe, coupled with a few of our dear father's, lining our peepers in black khol like some Siouxsie wannabe and riding the Coty Wild Musk shelves out of their inventory stinking up every place we went to in the process. But now that Wild Musk is becoming increasingly difficult to find (and a reformulation or two have been implemented to disfigure a little of that fresh raw face that smiled beneath the angled fringe that recalled Flock of Seagulls) we view it with the nostalgic melancholy reserved for bruises that are slowly fading into yellow, having pained us for so long we sort of miss them when they're gone.
Musk notes are experiencing a revival lately, especially vintage animalic stuff which growls a bit teasingly when you approach, and Wild Musk is among the very best in a field that is becoming crowded with more pretentious and more expensive upstarts. But what sets apart this inexpensive beauty apart is that there is a cozy barber-shop atmosphere about this floriental, hot towels and shaving cream paraphernalia on smooth skin, a little rose and sandalwood powder in the air as well. And yet this is a fragrance that although can be unisex it has a very cuddly quality about it. Gentle, yet bawdy, warm and unobtrusive, but with a flirtatious edge, it deserves to be carried into adultdom with no intersections along the way. Not to mention that there is a special synergy between this creamy scent and the smell of sweat, carrying itself into intimacy without vulgarity. Compared to Jovan Musk the similarity is there, although I find Wild Musk creamier, a little sweeter and softer, especially in the oil edition. Not "dirty" or spicy as Muscs Kublai Khan or Khiel's older oil, yet not sanitized "clean" like the plethora of white musk offerings around (from Musc Bleu to The Body Shop White Musk), Wild Musk with its great lasting power on clothes and its vanillic trail stands at the utopian crossroads between the two directions.
Wild Musk came out in 1973, just when Coty and Coty International were united after being sold to Pfizer & Co ten years earlier (Imprevuis another one which is a follow up after this take-over), issuing a handful of popular products including Styx, Sweet Earth, and Wild Musk fragrances and the Equatone beauty-treatment line. This is also the time when the production facility relocated from New York City to Sanford, North Caroline, thus heralding a new era for the brand. Perhaps the most characteristic trait is how Wild Musk had been taken over in that time-frame by arty types and carried over as a small hint that underneath the existentialist ennui and their assertions that culture is going through an agonizing death they were sensitive, affectionate souls after all.
Notes for Coty Wild Musk: A solid note of musk is accented by bergamot, lavender, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, amber and vanilla
The formula of Wild Musk by Coty circulated as both an oil and an alcohol-spray version. The oil is superior in aspects of smoothness, although the spray is not bad either. The newer version does bear a difference to the older, due to the substitution of the musk components for reasons of biodegradability (see Musk Series part 2 for more info on nitro-musks) which makes it significantly tamer and with a more alcohol-prominent top. Intermediary-age boxes of the Cologne concentrate spray carry the swoosh design in a single ribbon instead of the flou, hazy rendition that the newer ones have. The even older ones had a completely different graphic as depicted in the ad, some of which had a rectangle bottle with a red cap and label (similar to Musk Patchouli).Bottles of the latest edition are carried at Walmart, Target's and drugstores, while older versions circulate on online etailers and Amazon.
What about you? Did you wear musk fragrances when you were (very) young? What were your choices?
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