Guerlain Chypre 53: fragrance review & history

Some perfumes, like the best kept mysteries, keep their secrets close at heart and do not intend to be easily deciphered. That's part of their charm. Chypre 53 by Guerlain is the latest in this row of scented mysteries and I will try to break down its coding today with Chabollion determination, but non conclusive results. Let's call it the Linear A of Guerlain. :-)

via mbymystery.blogspot.com

My research indicates that there are actually two formulae of the elusive Chypre 53 and it would depend on which edition one gets hold of. The original Guerlain Chypre 53 was issued in 1909 in the standard quadrilobe extrait bottle with the phallic cap, holding 30ml, which we have come to associate with Guerlain extraits in general. The perfume was soon discontinued leaving more commercially successful Guerlain fragrances such as Mitsouko, Shalimar, Vol de Nuit or L'Heure Bleue in the limelight while it retreated in the shade of the archives. The year 1948 saw a re-issue of the Guerlain fragrance. The concentration of eau de cologne was opted for Chypre 53 and indeed "flacons montre" (the familiar round disk bottles with the gold pyramidal stopper which routinely hold the eau de cologne version of Guerlain fragrances) hold the splash edition of the more effervescent take.

via Pinterest

Besides those two types of bottles, there is also the amphora extrait bottle and the "goutte" (which means drop or bead in French) bottle for the eau de toilette concentration of Guerlain Chypre 53. The amphora and goutte bottles, as well as the montre one, were circulating well into the 1950s, according to the Guerlain archives. There also seems to exist a Lotion Vegetale which was intended as a grooming product, canonical to Guerlain standards of providing scented exhilaration while preparing one's hair and skin. [a collective imaging of the various bottles can be found here]

The providence of my review sample is a collector, a serious and well intentioned one, who was generous enough to share with me and request my opinion. Unfortunately I do not know the providence of the juice, though I assume it comes from some online auction where the rare fragrance makes a sporadic appearance. Exactly because the origin and authenticity of the fragrance is something that cannot be guaranteed, the exercise is tentative at best, colored by a highly subjective impression at worst.

via Photobucket/bbBD

What strikes me in my edition of Guerlain Chypre 53 is the inkiness and leatheriness of the acrid note coming from the depth of the perfume, indicating the use of isoquinolines plus oakmoss. The skeleton of the chypre fragrance dictates the use of the latter, so this is no surprise. Considering that the 1948 edition of Chypre 53 comes one year after the launch of Piguet's Bandit with its butch, described as "for dykes"ambience, the inclusion of the former isn't far fetched at all either. Although Chypre 53 was intended by Guerlain to be a feminine fragrance my olfactory appreciation informs me that men could wear it very convincingly as well. The boldness however is gentler and less bitter green than Bandit, with richer elements of spices (carnation) and Provencal herbs (thyme mainly) that bring it close in feel to both Caron Tabac Blond from 1917 (with its distinctive carnation leather) and Chanel's Cuir de Russie  from 1924 (with the same carnation, the spiciness of styrax and the background of a refined animality comprising clary sage, new car upholstery and precious flowers). This mental tie can be explained by sampling the 1948 edition but not the 1909 one, therefore my understanding is that I am experiencing the later one.

The overall feeling is dry but also warm, with a rustic touch, savoury sweet at various instants and with the cinnamic-eugenol facets I mentioned before. This carnation-leather combo is perplexing, as it's so indicative of the 1920s (where these garconnne leathers reigned supreme as well as carnation florals like Caron's Bellodgia), which is unsettling considering the chronology of either edition, additionally the opening seems like a different segment with the vetiver being more prominent.

Like all Guerlain perfumes of vintage cut there's a lot to recommend testing it out on your own skin, although it would be perhaps counterintuitive to pay through the nose for an old Chypre 53 specimen, unless you happen to land on a very lucky incident of value for money, an exceedingly rare sight in the world of online auctions. Having provided this caveat emptor, I'm very happy that I managed to round up my perfume knowledge of rare, historical Guerlain perfumes, from Atuana and Fleur de Feu to Loin de Tout and Guerlain Cuir de Russie through Coque d'Or and Djedi. Now that Chypre 53 has joined the ranks, my appreciation of la maison Guerlain has gained one more shade of the rainbow.
Maybe now that Guerlain is re-issuing the parfums de patrimoine (heritage perfumes from their archives, for exhibition purposes only), Chypre 53 is a good addition to the collection that is just waiting to happen ;)
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Cartier L'Heure Vertueuse: new fragrance

Mathilde Laurent, head perfumer at Cartier since 2006, introduces L'Heure Vertueuse (the virtuous hour), another installment in Les Heures de Parfum collection for connoisseurs issued by the acclaimed jewelry house in tall architectural bottles with latin numbers designed like a somber clock. For this one, representing three o'clock in the morning,  "it is time to walk in a magical garden, to breathe the enchanting fragrances of miraculous plants. A unique moment, an aromatic caress of fresh, gentle green notes."

Mathilde further specifies that the new Heure III, L'Heure Verteuse evokes ‘toutes les herbes, aromatiques, sauvages, médicinales, même la lavande, même l’absinthe’ (every herb, aromatic, wild or medicinal, lavender as much as absinth) like a Middle Age herbarium. This green and aromatic fragrance recalls compositions of old which became a symbol of a simple and natural life, like for instance Le Jardin de Mon Curé by Guerlain -or rather her own creation for Guerlain inspired by the garden of her beloved grand-father who died at 101, Herba Fresca.

And yet, Laurent's aim is to present contemporary fragrances, as she reveals her goal: "Comprendre [son] époque, pour proposer des effluves modernes et beaux qui apportent du plaisir." (Understand one's era, so as to present modern and beautiful scents that bring pleasure). In fact L'Heure Vertueuse III draws its inspiration from Corsica and maquis.

 L'Heure Vertueuse III by Cartier contains notes of absinth, rosemary, mastic (lentisque), thyme, verbena and lavender to soothe body and spirit. Available as eau de toilette, 75ml exclusively at Cartier boutiques.
Official Cartier site here.

 [quotes source]

Perfume Term Definition: Aromatic & Herbaceous

Among perfume terms which are used to describe fragrances some are more confusing than others: what defines a dry scent, what is a balsamic smell and, come to think of it, is aromatic what immediately leaps to mind? One might be inclined to think the descriptor denotes something "having an aroma" or something to do with scent in general, as in "aromatherapy". Yet, in perfumery jargon the term "aromatic" means something more precisely defined.

lavender field in Luberon, South of France

 Strictly speaking, the chemical definition relates aromatic to materials rich in benzene, a conjugated cyclic carbon compound found in organic matter (also known as arene). Penhaligon's Douro is an example, if you need to put a smell to a name. Aromatic in layman speak refers to smells that have a rustic scent, with a certain freshness, often in relation to herbal notes; some sources correlate it even to some balsams and resins. "Aren't balsams and resins generally sweetish, though?", you ask.
You see, the term 'aromatic' was originally assigned before the physical mechanism determining aromaticity was discovered, and was derived from the fact that many of the benzene hydrocarbon compounds have a sweet scent in themselves. It's safe to say that in perfumery parlance aromatic has gradually gained a specific nuance, that of agrestic, green-herbal and with a camphorous hint, like that in pure lavender essence. The character is vivid, assertive, lively and fresh, one of mental clarity, invigoration and awareness; associations prominently exploited by functional perfumery (i.e. the industry catering for scented functional products instead of fine fragrances for oneself).
In fine fragrance this lively, refreshing ambience is wonderfully caught in Baime by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier. Aromatic notes are therefore not bitter like oakmoss, but not typically syrupy sweet either! Smell the petrol-like opening of Guerlain's Jicky, rich in lavender buttressed by fresh bergamot and you're there (the fragrance soon acquires warmer, naughtier characteristics nevertheless which go beyond the aromatic).

 The herbaceous term -in differentiation of "woody" as in botany- is more of a descriptor than a proper classification: it encompasses such frequent perfumery materials as chamomile, lavender, rosemary, thyme, mint, spearmint, sage, clary sage and even celery, as well as marjoram, oregano and basil. Obviously the materials themselves derive from a herbal plant source, so the term isn't as confusing.
Most people familiar with dabbling in food-making like me, especially ethnic cuisines, know them from their kitchen cabinet. Whenever I cook with these herbs (and it is often, accounted by my Mediterranean origins) I find myself engrossed and enraptured by this humble and humbling splendor of nature; these small stems and leaves are so rich in nuance, so colorful in painting a verdant countryside basking under a benevolent sun, so childlike and at the same time old-wise that I can't but feel overwhelmed by the majestic force of the natural world all over again, like when I was but a mere toddler.

These herbaceous materials couple very well with citruses and spices, lending themselves to both unisex and masculine perfumery, without nevertheless eschewing feminine fragrances ~though the "pure" specimens are rare there, such as Granville by Dior's more upscale private line La Collection Couturier Parfumeur or Donna Karan's Essence Lavender.

Lavender, a par excellence aromatic substance, is a very common ingredient in perfumery, thanks to its linalool freshness and its pleasant association with the outdoors and cleanliness; it's no accident that lavender forms one of the three pillars of the "fougère"/fern family (term explained here). It's therefore natural that ferny smells should be coupled with lavender and other aromatic materials: the two have overlapping facets. This is why you will often see the term "aromatic fougère" brandished in masculine fragrances: this sub-classification within the fougère group indicates a heavier use of refreshing herbal notes in the formula providing a sense of chillness, of immediate freshness, especially since most herbal, aromatic notes are effervescent, i.e. "top notes" in terms of the scent's evaporation arc. Yves Saint Laurent Rive Gauche pour Homme is a perfect example of the genre .

The aromatic descriptor can feature as a supporting player to other stories: In Clinique's Wrappings for instance the aromatic top beautifully highlights the juniper wood of the base. Herbaceous accents can put a classic, cologne-like, aromatic character to a composition, due to association with the traditional Eau de Cologne which fuses herbal notes with hesperidia to render a sharp, tonic scent. The 4711 brand has even created modern variations on the theme in recent years: 4711 Acqua Colonia Lavender & Thyme, 4711 Acqua Colonia Juniper Berry & Marjoram, 4711 Acqua Colonia Melissa & Verbena.
They can also contrast beautifully with a resinous note, like in Encens et Lavande by Serge Lutens where the herbaceous brightness of lavender provides the light in the dusk of the incense. Eau de Jatamansi by L'Artisan Parfumeur is a more straight-forward specimen, where the resinous spikenard gains freshness through the reinforcement of herbaceous accents. The herbaceous facet of rose oxides is played to great effect in Calandre by Paco Rabanne, where the freshness of the composition is thus enhanced effectively.

 For all it's worth, perhaps showcased by the meaning of context above, not all herbs provide purely herbaceous/aromatic notes in perfumery: for example oregano, tarragon (to a lesser degree), basil and marjoram can be described as quasi-spicy, thanks to their rich ratio in piquant molecules which tingle the nostrils, much like the exotic dried spices in the kitchen cabinet do, albeit with a slightly different nuance. Even sage has a slightly peppery flavor. Conversely, although Chinese star anise is routinely considered a spice, its high ratio in anethole (the molecule also present in anise and dill) gives it a herbaceous edge.
Pronouncing a judgment on a fragrance that relies heavily upon those elements one might be technically describing a "herbaceous", but the perceived effect could be spicy. Manifesto by Isabella Rosellini for instance relies on the tingling note of basil, a material rich in eugenol (much like cloves), which immediately translates as "spicy" to one's mind. Pronouncing Manifesto therefore as a spicy scent isn't far from the truth, no matter the source of the effect lies in the garden rather than the Indian market. As in everything when attempting to communicate thoughts, it's important to distinguish whether one speaks from a scholarly or a purely personal perception point of view.

pics via nicenfunny.com and aromablog.ru

Shiseido Inoui: fragrance review, history & draw

Beware of the celebrity endorsement; it might get you in trouble hunting for rare, long lost treasures to the detriment of your wallet: The first time I became seriously intriguied by Inouï was upon reading an interview of Greek singer Anna Vissi, more than a dozen years ago, declaring her longing for a bottle of this discontinued Shiseido scent: "If anyone still got a bottle, I'm paying double for it". Makes a girl move earth and sky to find some, doesn't it! Inoui, or rather Inouï with the requisite umlaut, launched by Shiseido in 1976 and quickly vanished from the market in the late 1980s, its quirky name meaning unprecedented in the sense of stunningly gorgeous.

Stunningly gorgeous it might not be exactly, as I reserve this characterisation for truly seminal fragrances or those which exhibit a daring concordance of vision and orchestration, but the drops resting on my collarbone speak of its beauty in no uncertain terms: Inouï prettifies everything it touches, even though it belongs to the old-school austere, cool greens of the ilk of Chanel No.19, Alliage, Diorella, Calèche and Shiseido's own Koto which are crepuscularly silver, rarely breaking a smile, surely alien ~ in the letter of the law~ to my own warm-blooded, passionate Mediterranean nature.

There is nothing really warm or conventionally seductive about Inouï , the bitter galbanum resin and chilled alοof florals giving a Brechtian detachment, a sort of stoic Britannic phlegm even on the face of the gravest tragedy; or maybe -more plausibly- it's just the Japanese aesthetic of keeping one's cool and always appearing composed. At the time Shiseido was not yet in collaboration with Serge Lutens, the maestro who would bring Gallic passion to the Eastern refinement with Nombre Noir and all the rest of their collaborative opus, and suppposedly the company was meaning to break up with their oriental tradition at the same time, hence the name of the fragrance one would assume:

'An international product developed by the joint efforts of Shiseido staff in Japan, the U.S. and Italy, Inoui was introduced in 1976. Under the sales theme of the “New Working Woman,” the image was of a new woman with a cosmopolitan mind. She lived a beautiful lifestyle of jazz dance, yoga, jogging and other new activities of the time, while easily handling her work as well. “It's not her beauty. It's her lifestyle.” clearly expresses the concept behind the product.'

Thus ran the official blurb on the fragrance on the US site.Somehow it doesn't sound very fetching to me. I can think of better things. But times have changed; back then "modern" woman apparently dreamed about the "beautiful lifestyle of jazz dance, yoga, jogging and other new activities, while easily handling her work as well".

Yet history disproves this assertion of breaking with tradition: Saso and Myth of Saso, other Shiseido rarities, are unusual and unpliable with no "lifestyle" concept behind them, yet roughly contemporaries. But for every Saso there's a Koto; easy, breezy, refreshingly cool for active lives, so Shiseido is obviously consciously catering to a multitude of women and respective markets. Later on, the Japanese company launched a make-up line by the same name (and the follow-up, Inoui ID) which was put into stunning visuals by Lutens himself, the choreographing of the models an exercise in cobra mesmerising human eyes.

Inouï is a fragrance which, underneath the crashed stems and sap, lives and breathes in human form and yes, warms up somewhat with an exquisite jasmine heart, halfway between birth and rot, flanked by the pungent accent of herbal thyme, like a seasoned woman who knows what she wants and what she's capable of. This is why it feels at a crossroads between floral chypre and green floral; but Inoui is friendlier than angular No.19 by Chanel, soapier and sweeter than Alliage by Lauder and less BCBG than Hermès Calèche. It's so pretty, deep and undemanding that it poses a mystery on why it got axed so soon! Then again, might we recall the dire straits of Paco Rabanne's Calandre; who knew such an easy, loveable fragrance would become hard to get!
The opening accord in Shiseido Inouï is sap-like, crushed greens with a hint of soapy aldehydes and at the same time reminiscent of the lemon-peach top chord of classic Diorella: fresh, but registered an octave below, mossier. Soon the warmth of ripe jasmine anchors the peachy lactonic notes and gives oomph, fleshing the sketch of the greens and deepening the feminine impression. The impression of green floral sustains itself cuddled by a lightly mysterious base, like that in Y by Yves Saint Laurent, deepening as time passes, mingled perfectly in one unified chord, while its murmur is only audible to those who come close by.

Vintage batches (the only kind, really, since Inoui is long discontinued) crop up sometimes online, for really huge prices somewhat unjustifiably. Those which retain a fresh, green floral and a tad soapy note have kept well. If your catch smells sour, you've been out of luck: the perfume deteriorated through the years. There is an eau de parfum version and an extrait de parfum in sparse, architectural bottles, both worthy additions to a distinguished perfume collection.

Notes for Shiseido Inoui :
Top: Galbanum, Peach, Juniper, Lemon, Green Accord
Heart: Pine Needles, Freesia, Thyme, Jasmin
Base: Cedarwood, Myrrh, Musk, Civet, Oakmoss

Since it's such a rarity, one sample out of my own personal stash goes out to one lucky reader. Please comment on what appeals to this genre to qualify.

Balenciaga La Fuite des Heures (Fleeting Moment): fragrance review

There is no question that Germaine Cellier was a formidable woman and an innovative perfumer mapping history with her Balmain and Piguet creations. Hers is nevertheless the lesser known, but none the less majestic, La Fuite des Heures (pronounced la-fou-EET dez-erh and translating as Fleeting Moment) for Balenciaga in 1949; a Provençal herbs and jasmine formula of great radiance and tenacity.
There is an interesting snippet of fashion and perfume history pertaining to this Balenciaga fragrance, which was the second to be issued by the house: Initially composed by Cellier at Roure for the French market, it was modeled after the aldehydics established at the time (and hence in chasm with her bombastic creations for Piguet such as Fracas and Bandit).

Why is that? No.5 by Chanel was the prototype of the genre (and still is) due to its commercial success, especially after WWII when soldiers returning from the European battle-fronts had popularised it in the conscience of American bourgeoisie as the pinacle of French chic and the porthole of aspirational status. Let's not forget that even historic French houses, such as Guerlain, had followed the paradigm with their own creations, namely Liù (although the latter's history is a little more gossipy that that!). Balenciaga had already issued a fragrance, Le Dix (10), his first foray into scent, named after the address of his couture studio at 10 Avenue George V. Not unexpectedly, that one also happened to be a floral aldehydic! Another version of La Fuite des Heures, specifically aimed at the American market, was issued in the beginning of the 1960s, the Camelot days of the USA when "Parisian" didn't seem as far fetched as before. And as they say the rest is history...

The fragrance was available as an Eau de Cologne in tall cylindrical ribbed bottles with simple pastic caps and black labels with white simple lettering. My own extrait de parfum of Balenciaga's La Fuite des Heures in its shagreen container, (probably from the 60s) is well aged, thick and dark as its blobs ooze from the crystal stoppered flacon. Yet the suave jasmine and ylang-ylang glory with sweet accents of light amber in the base is still there.
The piquant herbs (anise? thyme?) and greens notes (vetiver?) along with an aldehydic vibrance (a little soapy & orris powdery the way Chanel No.5 is soapy & powdery) have mellowed significantly; they give way to the more tenacious woody and above all musky elements, a reality all too often met with when dealing with vintage perfumes. The drydown is fused with some of the most glorious musks this side of pre-banning of several valuable ingredients.
Despite its approximation to vintage forms of No.5 (such as the magnificent Eau de Cologne version), La Fuite des Heures stands alone sufficiently well and even presents itself as a most wearable specimen of an elegant creation of yore. Like a couture gown by the great Spanish master himself, lose the hat, the gloves and the pose and you might wear the lace ruffled dress with your modern stilettos soled in red and an air of bon chic bon genre socialite.

Related reading on Perfumeshrine: Balenciaga news & reviews, Vintage scents reviews

Balenciaga couture lace dress via fashionmodel.mtx5.com. Balenciaga La Fuite des Heures bottle pic by Elena Vosnaki