L'Artisan Parfumeur Drole de Rose: fragrance review

A little girl watching her mother putting on her make up, getting ready for a night out. Nivea cream scent (with its special bouquet of aromatic essences) and violet-laced, fluffy, retro powder. Soft musky roses floating on a cream bowl. Pink satin pointes with long silken ribbons ... This could be a recipe for tisane-sipping and Fabio-jacketed novels for spinsters off to bed at eight in their pink liseuses; it ticks all the predictable "romantic roses" boxes. But it's not. Drôle de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur manages to bypass the staid for the cheerful and the delicate and to render old new again. You just need a bit of an edge to turn this into the playful fragrance it really is and not into something from your grandmother's vanity.

Sweet Smell of Cosmetics
Comparable to the retro nuances of Lipstick Rose (Frederic Malle), whereas in the latter the overt sweetness and lusciousness can upset a sensitive stomach ~such is the speckled rouge approach~ in Drôle de Rose everything is painted like a light stain. Plus the L'Artisan came many years before, in 1996, pre-emptying a niche trend by far. Perfumer Olivia Giacobetti was remembering the formative images of her childhood and the scent of makeup plays hugely in such scenarios. The combination of rose & violet has become a classic in recreating this effect, since most lipsticks were typically further aromatized with these essences to render the wax's smell less obtrusive.

I call these "mock makeup perfumes", fragrances evocative of cosmetics, putting me in a made-up mood before even hitting the top of the By Terry trousse de makeup, which is something one can appreciate when too bored to do one's face. Out of these scents, some go for the pancake-makeup glamour of the 1940s, thicker and lusher, Technicolor; Lipstick Rose as well as Broadway Nite (Bond No.9) opt for that effect, retro glamorous pin-up. Others go for transparency and a super-soft, kittenish hint of fluffy ivory fur with a hint of violet pastilles; to that category I put Meteorites by Guerlain, Love,Chloe (parfums Chloe) and indeed Drôle de Rose.  Giacobetti's sleight of hand plays hugely into giving this L'Artisan perfume an elegantly retro air without becoming stuffy, too sweet (though it is sweet all right) or too old. She's known for her transparent, restrained approach after all. Don't expect dark, menacing secrets and deep, meaningful confessions either. This is out for fun, pure and simple.

Scent Description
Drôle de Rose is L'ArtisanParfumeur's flirty, undeniably pretty, playful starlet, who's really a good and dainty girl through and through. The rather untranslatable name rather means something like "amusing rose", in the vein of "witty". The softly powdery accord of violets and geranium (which has a rosy scent) is given a greener, fluffier tinge via the magic of star anise. The classic "lipstick scent accord" forms the core of the fragrance; made up, lips stained rosy, elegantly ladylike, sweetly appealing. The real pull however is how the flowers are given a honeyed approach, with a non indolic and yet non soapy orange blossom water, as if one is sprinkling macaroons; a powdery feel with the trickery of irones (iris); and last but not least how the musky drydown sticks around more (but doesn't project too much) than what one would initially expect when given enough heat on skin and in the atmosphere. Contrasted with the camphoraceous, woody darkness of Voleur de Roses (based on the murky rose and patchouli), one can see how the latter is meant for autumn and rainy weather, while Drôle de Rose really blooms in late spring and summer. 

Even though one would be tempted to reference Paris by Yves Saint Laurent in this review, I feel that the intricate and powerful, gleaming approach in that rose-violet combo is miles removed from anything else and ultimately is its own thing: Really, I wouldn't expect necessarily loving both that and the greener, lighter, less sparkling Drôle de Rose...If you want something similar, rather try Emilie by Fragonard.

Notes for L'Artisan Parfumeur Drole de Rose: rose, star anise, orange blossom, white iris, violet, almond, honey, leather

pic of a young Liz Taylor via chocolate-memoirs.blogspot.com

Oscar de la Renta Oscar Violet: fragrance review & draw

Violet is a limited edition "flanker"* of the signature Oscar fragrance, one of the group of limited summer editions by fashion designer Oscar de la Renta which launched through 2005 (Violet is from that season) and 2006: Soft Blossom, Soft Amber, Sweet Flower, Tropical Flower, Fresh Vanilla, Red Orchid, Pink Lily, Sheer Freesia, Citrus, Bamboo. [Wow they did a lot of them!] From this assorted progeny I always thought Violet was the best  and though by no means a masterpiece or a must-smell, it's an easy to wear desert-like, yet judiciously restrained, vanillic fragrance. By all accounts a no-brainer, no need to steel-yourself-for-it scent, for days when you can't be bothered by complicated things and just want some cosiness and comfort.

The subtle overture is fresh and a bit "sweet peppery" thanks to the cinnamon touch sprinkled on a short-lived, citrusy accord. This very soon opens into the main plot: a dark chocolate accord, powdery cocoa shifted for angel's cake and 70% cocoa solids chunks for glazing it. This is quite a sweet perfume, which is a precarious balance to do right, but without the sickly candy notes of many a modern fragrance fare. More a cocoa-vanilla blend than one resting on violets, it's ironic it got named the way it was. (Even if consciously searching for violets when smelling it, you're getting the Violettes de Toulouse confectionary kind, not the Parma violet, even less so the metallic violet leaf note). The base is quite persistent, with inclusions of musk and sandalwood (creamy, goose-down soft), but the generic vanilla blend tends to overshadow these subtler, more discreet notes. This is the main drawback of the Oscar Violet fragrance and why it doesn't get out of the cabinet more. The drydown is lackluster compared to what a delicious, sophisticated gourmand like Angel Innocent, or  Prada Candy can offer; and as to searching for a sweet violet or gourmand sandalwood combo I'll go with Bois de Violette, Santal Massoia and Praline de Santal. Still Oscar Violet is so cheap online it's worth grabbing for your curiosities cabinet or your little sister who likes "sweet stuff" and shouldn't be let to plunge too deeply into the vulgar end lest she never resurfaces again. 

If a few well-judged comparisons illustrate a point like a thousand pages, Oscar Violet is reminiscent of Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle by Christian Dior and Deep Red by Hugo Boss (but sweeter, creamier than the latter) with similar notes of pear, mandarin orange, sandalwood, vanilla and musk.
Discontinued, but still found discounted on etailers and Ebay.

For our readers, a bottle of this discontinued fragrance up for draw, for those commenting. Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight.

*flanker is industry speak for a new, different fragrance coat-tailing on the success of an established one by the same brand, exhibiting some twist on the name & packaging to differentiate it from the original.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Floral Gourmand Fragrances 

Haydria Perfumery Tainted Love & Harem Girl: fragrance reviews

The Haydria Perfumery is one of those small artisanal brands you probably won't hear of unless you frequent perfume fora and read actual people's views; consequently the perfumers of those brands often twist their inspiration to fit both their own and their customers' base vision, a good thing. A good thing because this is a market segment with pretty sure footing into how perfume used to be before it was put into a compulsory Jenny Craig regime and often very much into what's affectionately termed "hippy stuff" from ma & pa shops (unfortunately more prominent in the USA than in Europe where I am residing). Haydria Perfumery seems to me to unite these two worlds: a vintage-focused pin-up inspired, retro perfumery with glittering, girly stuff reminiscent of the 1950s & 1960s, but also an independent, earthy, oils & musks approach (that's very 60s as well).

Fragrances of the Haydria Perfumery are composed by Hadria Douglas, based in West Hertford CT, USA, customarily presented in liquid perfume (in glass bottles with Swarovski embellishments), solid perfume & compacts and oil form. I tested the oils, which by their own nature present a smoother, softer ambience on skin and therefore sometimes present a lack of structure, but I know many people are mad for oils so it makes sense to offer this concentration. Both fragrances were nice and wearable, if not mind-blowing, just the right thing for that lady you know who appreciates all things soft and purring and sparkling with boudoir promises.

Tainted Love  is said to be "Reminiscent of innocent 50’s love…with a secret! A flirtatious and feminine bouquet of violets, berries and light amber drizzled with honey. The scent to take you back to simpler times".
I was quite taken with this retro, romantic pairing of violet and powder in this perfume oil, I have to admit. The violet is very there, but not your grandma's violet pastilles. There's a clean (white musk) and at the same time lightly salty aspect about the violet, making it subtly woody and not really sweet; just so. I can imagine this delicate and pretty scent on anyone who romanticizes the big balls of the 1950s and fancies themselves in a pink dress with a big corsage and their long hair in luscious curls on naked shoulders. Seamed stockings would be really good too.

Notes for Haydria Perfumery Tainted Love: violets, berries, honey and light amber.

Harem Girl is the most musky and traditionally "erotic" perfume in the Haydria line: "A forbidden, seductive and fiercely feminine fragrance with refined, powdery notes of iris, musk and opoponax veiled with incense. Truly for those with a taste for the exotic!"
Teasingly dabbing this scent on the wrist to entice sounds like what you'd expect from a seductive fragrance, but Harem Girl isn't neither heady nor too musky in that "get down & dirty" way we associate with, well, you know what... It might be because the oil formula opens up the soft aspects of the opoponax and the warm musk and turns it into a lightly sweet, lightly bitterish composite that would be pretty great in enhancing a lovers' play time. The musks used in Haydria's line are tempered, not especially "animalic" and therefore fit for actually wearing on a number of occasions, not just boudoir action, so you could get maximum mileage out of this one. Harem Girl hides a floral element in its oriental core to couple with a light incense veil, a tiny bit smoky, a tiny bit "dusty". Although iris is listed, I didn't especially smell that component; it's sort of powdery, but it's a resinous powdery from the opoponax (and some milky wood note replicating sandalwood?) that is dominant. It actually reminds me more of l'entre deux guerres and its love of Frenchified orientalia than of later pin-ups of the 1940s.

Notes for Haydria Perfumery Harem Girl: powdery iris, musk, opoponax, incense.

Haydria's Etsy Shop is on this link where you can buy the lot at very affordable prices.

The rest of the Haydria line includes:

• Bernie! : gardenia, jasmine and sandalwood accented with soft exotic notes 
• Burlesque Blue has notes of myrrh, sandalwood and plum cascaded over a cool undercurrent of exotic Eastern flowers
• My Geisha has notes of green tea, orange blossom, white flowers and musk
• Gypsy Queen with lush florals and rich spices smoldering with deep wood notes
• L'Eau Exotique features aquatic notes, Asian champa flowers and sandalwood
• Pure Sin has passion fruit, champagne, dark chocolate and white musk.

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent samples directly from the perfumer.

Diane by Diane von Furstenberg: fragrance review

The masstige in mainstream fragrances by famous designers these days is such that expectations have hit an all-time rock bottom: Rarely does a perfume enthusiast come upon a fragrance that defies both the lowered budget and the detrimental focus group admonishments for the lowest common denominator invariably resulting in dull, lackluster compositions with as much excitement as watching paint dry  (See Chanel's No.19 Eau Poudré; or even worse Chance Eau Tendre, which might be shampoo for all you know. Also Yves Saint Laurent's technically-challenged Belle d'Opium).

My friend Gaia, the Non Blonde summed it up well: "the perfume, Diane, is a mass-market/designer perfume. It's created to appeal to first and foremost to the non fragonerd crowd, to sell by the bucket and end up heavily discounted on every online retailer website. Rarely the stuff dreams are made of."
Nevertheless, on some occasions perfumers working in the mainstream do manage to create something quite good (see Elie Saab Le Parfum, Baiser Volé by Cartier, Prada Candy perfume or Love,Chloé) or even go above and beyond the call of duty (see the stupendously wonderful Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum, though to be fair this one had probably as much attention to detail given to as an art restoration on a Vermeer); to mention only 2011 releases.

Diane by Diane von Furstenberg is rather in the former category; it lacks that above and beyond element to make it into the great ones, but this shouldn't deter you from sampling or receiving as a Christmas gift with relative pleasure. It's easy to expect something as intensely feminine in a devil-may-care attitude that maps its own trajectory as its famous designer stood for: the von Furstenberg wrap dresses especially are the epitome of "smart woman on the go who hasn't forgotten her pudenda at home".  This is not quite it, but it's not totally traitorous either.

For Diane the fragrance perfumer Aurelien Guichard created an old-school feminine violet composition that goes for a very long-lasting clean and woody ambience, reminiscent of retro bath products; not quite as spectacular as Furstenberg's fashions, you might say. But brownie points for not going for the easy route of too sweet, too fruity (thankfully Diane doesn't like fruity fragrances), too air-headed, too fleeting... Diane is a real fragrance, ladylike, to be best appreciated probably by the high-street consumer who has not totally lost the concept of what perfume is: a manufactured, non photorealistic impression of something in the artist's mind (that something usually is your dessert spilled on your favourite dress these days, so hallelujah for this small favour in Diane).

Additionally, violet scents are becoming trendy again, after their first resurgence when niche perfumery first erupted into the scene a decade ago. It probably signals a mini comeback of class and restraint, after the atrocities of bosom-spilling & visible thongs over one's jeans fashions. Witness Tom Ford's Violet Blonde (chosen to be distributed in the mainstream line rather than the Tom Ford Privé one), or Love, Chloé, both this very season's releases. Hardly tramp stuff.
In Diane Eau de Parfum especially the treatment of ionones (these are the molecules that give that violet, retro scent) via a clean incense note of great dryness deducts the usually candied take that the note takes and thus, instead of intense "powdery", the formula is twisted on its axis to go for a "soapy scent".  The woodiness, provided by that fractionalized patchouli that makes the rounds in hundreds of modern releases, is well tempered, pleasant, even with a hint to chypré coolness. I also detect clean musks radiating from the blotter and sticking on the skin with their tenacious tentacles.
Likable and very wearable, just not remarkable enough. Decent, non air-headed bottle.

Notes for Diane by Diane von Furstenberg: frangipani, violet, patchouli, myrrh, and musk.

Diane by Diane von Furstenberg ($85 for 50ml/1.7 oz of eau de parfum, there is also an eau de toilette version which is lighter & "simpler" in texture) is available at Sephora (online too)

Pic: Princess Diane von Furstenberg and writter Alain Elkann photographed by Helmut Newton

Tauer Perfumes Pentachords ~White, Auburn, Verdant: fragrance reviews

Indie perfumer Andy Tauer gets inspired by music scales into arranging his newest line of fragrances we're exclusively previewing on Perfume Shrine today on pentachords, that is to say 5 consecutive notes on the diatonic scale. Pentachords® by Tauer Perfumes (White, Auburn and Verdant) are arranged as elusively simple, but not simplistic, harmonies resembling rather pentagram chords: the whole only becomes powerful when each part falls into place. Or think of a pentagram in the place of the classic French fragrance pyramid; "an accord that changes from one corner of the scent’s pentagon over time".

In a way it's minimalism and music theoretics pushed to an elegant extreme, a concept that is refuted by some; Tauer's bravura if successful, a big risk if not. "The compression and limitation an incentive" as he says. How many ingredients are necessary for a satisfying perfume? Tauer can whip up something with only five molecules and the results are satiating enough to fool you into believing there's more than meets the eye; kinda like full-cream premium ice-cream composed by only a handful ingredients, instead of tons of frilly additives.
Andy envisioned them (back in February 2009)  like "a fragrance built around 5 pillars. The line of thought moved on towards a pentachord fragrance. A fragrance, or an entire line of fragrances, built with 5 components only that are one chord, a pentachord." [...] "For me, this is art in its purest form: mirroring nature, bringing it into a concept, and by doing so thinking about it and invite others to think about it and enjoy it."

The long-lasting nature of the Pentachord fragrances (easily 10 hours or more) also speaks of picking elements with deft selection: sorting out the formula must be difficult when you have to ditch something that creates a striking effect, but doesn't translate well in structure or tenacity, and vice versa. You also have to choose good, expensive ingredients to yield their best properties into the concept. Lovers of the familiar Tauer signature will find things to like, especially in Auburn, which takes the ambery depths of his more resinous fragrances to date (Le Maroc pour Elle, L'air du desert Marocain), but I predict he will get new fans in Verdant and White which present striking effects poised between lightness and darkness. They both made an instant impression on me due to their juxtaposition of freshness against meaty earthiness.
All of them could be worn by either sex easily, though you'd have to like soft, gentle fragrances to appreciate White and to handle the metallic-woody top notes of modern masculine fougeres to unlock the secrets of  Verdant.

• White (a floral woody musk) is built on "the clear melody of royal Iris" and you do get it, but it's so much more as well. The concept of Pentachords White fragrance began while the perfumer was jogging in the snowy landscape of the woods near Zurich: "we thought about violet, orris root, ambergris, wood, vanilla", he admits. If this combination sounds inviting, the fragrance should get you all excited!
  The intense beauty of very expensive Irone Alpha (6-methyl alpha ionone) by Givaudan vibrates at the cusp of orris root and violet flowers, creating a silvery, expansive imagescape: A fragrance of either the crack of dawn or the crepuscular drawing of a prolonged cool afternoon, the contrast between light and shadow. The unusual element in the White Pentachord lies into manipulating the powdery, wistful and yet also "fleshy" character of orris into a fluffy embrace, in this case built on vanilla (methylvanillin to my nose, a phenolic aldehyde) and clean musk with a hint of ambergris/ambrox (a beloved "note" in the Tauer Canon for its skin compatibility properties): The subtle, gentle warmth of the latter elements balances the sadness and coolness of the former into an uplifting arpeggio, like the first or last rays of sun flickering on sheets of white. The sweetness of the fruity edges of the irone and the vanilla are most detectable in the middle of the fragrance's progression, while the more the fragrance stays on skin, the more the woody-iris facets of the molecule reveal themselves. It's innocent and supremely soft, but not maudlin. In fact it might have been inspired by a classic hazy scent which Andy loves to wear: Habit Rouge, a cloud transported from the skies on the wings of opoponax. Here Tauer substitutes the core opoponax for the amazing Alpha Irone which dominates the fragrance and creates a comparable "flou" ambience.
  Tauer's White has me hankering for things I did not know I had a hankering for: Jogging in the cold-ringing air at the crack of dawn trying to catch the first rays reflected in the white-spotted trees, warm milk in my thermos, or putting on warm pyjamas in bed, sipping violet pastilles and bringing down my teddy-bears again for a little cuddling session, years after they moved to the attic. It's a truly lovable fragrance that is sure to have many enamoured of it.

• Auburn (a spicy oriental) is presented as "the cupric warmth of cinnamon" and lovers of the compositions where Tauer smacks opposite his beloved mandarin citrus note resins (such as in L'air du desert Marocain, Une rose Vermeille, Incense Rosé) will smile with a smile of cognition: This is familiar ground, pared down to the necessities for this occasion. Amyl cinnamyl acetate gives a cinnamon note, while the amber-tobacco effect reinforces the oriental impression. It feels coppery and juicy. The citrus note is succulent, sweet rather than tangy, reminiscent of Orange Star, the heart sports hydroxycitronellal for expansion and a honeyed linden blossom note, while the background is deep, woody and ambery; a statement fragrance in the mold of modern orientals. Even though Auburn reads pleaurable as always ~Tauer is a master in arranging resinous, labdamum oriental accords~ it feels like already treaded ground and gives me the impression it was the last one to get developed; possibly as a need to tally the line into three different style offerings, or as a choice between some more additions that felt less representative of varying families and were thus kept for the follow-up. But that is only my guess and it does not detract from the fun that loyals to the "Tauerade" base will derive from it.

• Verdant (an aromatic green) represents "the lush green of ivy forests" and if you have ever dreamt of living in one of those country houses festooned with climbing ivy, shading it and keeping it cool, you're right there. The effect is photorealistic, from the water drops gleaming on the verdure, to the tangled growth & soil underneath replete with the gardener wearing leather gloves while trimming the branches. But what is most interesting to me in Pentachord Verdant is that in fact I smell an effect that strongly reminds me of woody vetiver fragrances: a nutty, oily rich, tobacco-laced earthy note which contrasts and compliments at the same time the greenery and grassy feel. It reminds me of Vertofix coeur (methyl cedryl ketone, a IFF ingredient) with its leathery vetiver facets, with an added sweet hay note of coumarin and rum-licorice which goes exceptionally well. The violet leaves come off metallic and bluish at the beginning, a tad sharp and androgynous (in the manner of Balenciaga Paris or Verte Violette), a jarring striking contrast, while the progression veers into warmer, ambery-leathery tonalities that create a warm pipe fantasy. If you like Vetiver Tonka and apreciate the sharp violet leaf freshness of modern masculines/unisex scents, this is a conversational piece to get you started in an engrossing discussion on modern perfumery. I find it a very interesting fragrance indeed.

The flacons for the Tauer Pentachords follow the pentagram design he already has introduced with Zeta, Orange Star and the rest of the latest releases, but in transparent glass with varying hues of coloured labels in white, copper and petrol green. The Pentachords line by Tauer Perfumes is only available at Campomarzio in Rome at the moment. They will launch more widely after the Pitti fragrance exhibition in September 2011.

Painting on top by Claude Monet. Pic of bottles via duftarchive.de In the interests of full disclosure, I got sent trial samples from the distributor.

Annick Goutal Mon Parfum Cheri: new fragrance

The upcoming Mon Parfum Chéri par Camille, by Camille Goutal, marks the 30th anniversary of the house of Annick Goutal. The company was founded by Camille's pianist mother Annick and continued after the latter's demise by her daughter Camille to this day. Collaborating for long with perfumer Isabelle Doyen, the style of Annick Goutal fragrances is very French, feminine pretty and yet witty too.

This time, inspired by Colette novels, specifically the Claudine novels, the fragrance promises to encapsulate the mischievous, sensuous and adventurous spirit of the heroine herself. It's odd that Claudine features so highly in the concept, as the mere mention of Chéri in the name (literally "beloved" in French) reminds Colette readers of the cocksure, young and inwardly insecure hero by the same nickname.
Still, the creators reference a throwback to the golden age of Hollywood as well, instilling the creation with a retro glamour, dark red liquid in the classic gold gaudron-capped ribbed bottle in shades of violet, this time the ornamentary tag ribbon taking on a stripped pattern in anthracite.
The new Annick Goutal fragrance Mon Parfum Chéri (i.e. My Beloved Perfume) belongs to the floral woody musky fragrance family and features notes of Indonesian patchouli, powdery notes, violet, iris, heliotrope and sweet prunes. It will be available in Eau de Toilette concentration in 50ml and 100ml and in Eau de Parfum concentration in 100ml. The launch is set to be exclusively at Harrods, London on the 1st of July and world-wide distribution is set for September 2011.

Sonoma Scent Studio To Dream: fragrance review

To Dream, indie perfumer Laurie Erikson's (of Sonoma Scent Studio) latest release clearly poses as a violet fragrance and yet it is so much more that it can stand for many things: a woody floral for those who don't want too much of either declination; a balanced composition that explores minimal powdery elements alongside a soft, fuzzy smoothness and sweetened woods over the familiar ambience of viola odorata; a non makeup scent for men who want to venture into the realm. To Dream is quite enchanting, inducing daydreaming indeed, and at the same time supremely easy to pull of for both sexes, projecting on a pleasant hum at all times, no sharp points, but rather colourful accents, like an oil painting by a late 19th century artist.



To Dream features soft violet and rose with a base of heliotrope, tonka, amber, vanilla, frankincense essential oil (very lightly done), oakwood absolute, orris, cedar, sandalwood, and hints of cocoa, suede and moss. Even though Laurie had been working on violets before for her Lieu de Rêves (Place of Dreams), reviewed on these pages, the two compositions, sharing the violet-rose-heliotrope heart, soon depart. Lieu de Rêves has a childlike innocence and the hazy contours of flou stills of Louis Malle's Pretty Baby; a nascent sensuality which beckons you closer Bambi-eyed. To Dream is a bit more sophisticated and more unisex, with woodier aspects from French oakwood absolute which comes from wine barrels made of Quercus robur wood; Quercus is the Latin name for oak, i.e. these are oaky barrels, the kind that hold aging-simpatico dry, red wine).

Smelling the raw essence of oakwood absolute, mossy and fruity at the same time, brought to my mind all the early memories I had when as a kid we went to grape distilleries & wineries (a Greek pastime during family holidays driving through the lush countryside) and I buried my nose inside the by -then empty- oaky barrels before being shown the fungus that is added to begin the fermentation process. The tannic facets of the wine were mingling with the slightly musty, pungent aroma of the wood itself. In To Dream this is a definite note and oenophiles will be delighted to discover it within a fragrance fit to wear. This woody note naturally lends itself to pairings with moss and the soft notes like the rose and strawberry bouquet of a young red wine. But that is not all: The powderiness and slight almondy character of To Dream enrobes this wood note and the florals with plush, a fine muskiness surfacing to blend all into a comforting, snuggly haze you won't want to get away from.

Notes for Sonoma Scent Studio To Dream:
Violet, rose, heliotrope, cedar, amber, frankincense, oakwood absolute, vetiver, tonka, orris, vanilla, musk, sandalwood, oakmoss, subtle suede, cocoa, and aldehydes.

To Dream is available as parfum extrait spray 34ml for 80$ on the Sonoma Scent Studio site and IndieScents.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Sonoma Scent Studio fragrances, Violets in perfumery

Painting Daydreaming by Eugene de Blaas (1843-1931)

Disclosure: I was sent a sample vial directly from the perfumer.

Perfumery Materials: Violet, Violet Leaf & Ionones

Although often spoken in the same breath when describing fragrance notes pyramids ~standard industry speak for the breakdown of effects in perfume appreciation (a not exactly accurate or realistic means of communicating a scent)~ violet and violet leaves are not interchangeable. Indeed they're quite different, from the romantic, retro powdery feel of violets to the cucumber-metallic-oily effect of violet leaves which adorn not only greener violet scents, but also many masculine colognes.


Violet, has a coy profile in its symbolistic facets: The term "shy violet" is not random; the blossom naturally feels frail and trembling at touch, even though it is sturdy. Thus it traditionally stood for modesty, calmness and sleepiness, traits often associated with females in centuries past. Blue violets signified faithfulness, while white violets were of a happier disposition: they symbolized taking chances. The religious world associates violet with the Passion of Christ and indeed Easter rites in the Mediterranean basin include the use of complementary colors - violet and yellow - symbolic of Lent and the return of spring with its yellow crocuses and daffodils; to witness the two traditional flowers in the Epitaph procession are violets and lilacs, alongside the daffodils narcotizing one's nose in the open air of the evening marches of course: One blossom low-brow and serious like the Holy martyrdom; the other orgiastic like the pagan resurgence of the Dionysian spirit as expressed in the awakening of spring.

A symbol of ancient Athens where it was used in scenting wine and Napoleon Bonaparte’s favorite flower (who preferred it rather than Josephine's beloved musk), violet is a complicated matter in perfumery for two reasons: First, the natural extract of viola odorata (sweet violet/English violet), although it exists, is rarely used for reasons of cost and versatility. Secondly, because there is the distinction between violet flower and violet leaf: the two have a world of difference in terms of odor profile, but that’s not always clear in fragrance descriptions. The flowers have a sweet, powdery ~and when fresh slightly spicy~ note, while the leaf is earthy, green with a cut-grass feel.


The symbolism of violets as emblematic of death at an early age is apparent in the John Everett Millais painting "The Death of Ophelia" and violets which stood for constancy or devotion were traditionally used in mourning. Most people however associate violet with Parma Violets (as reflected in Borsari's Violetta di Parma) a violet-flavoured confectionary manufactured by the Derbyshire-based company Swizzels Matlow; or alternatively, depending on cultural memories, with Violettes de Toulouse, violets preserved by a coating of egg white and crystallised sugar still made commercially at Toulouse, France. (try it in fragrance in Berdoues Violettes de Toulouse). These tender, playful associations might account for the popularity of several sweet florals in the market, especially when coupled with the intensely feminine note of roses producing an almost "makeup" vanity-table effect, such as in L'Arisan Drôle de Rose and F.Malle Lipstick Rose or alternatively allied to modern "berries" tangy notes in Guerlain's Insolence.

In violets along with terpenes, a major component of the scent is a ketone compound called ionone, which temporarily desensitises the receptors in the nose; this prevents any further scent being detected from the flower. (This is why often people complain "I can't smell a thing!", it's not necessarily anosmia, but too much ionones!!) Ionones were first isolated from the Parma violet by Tiemann and Kruger in 1893. Violets naturally include irisone beta, which gives them part of their olfactory profile. The discovery of ionones enabled cheap and extensive production of violet scents, cataclysming the market with inexpensive violet colognes which became au courant in the first throes of the 20th century. The ionones palette ranges from the scent of fresh blossoms to mild woodsy sweet-floral tonalities, while methyl ionones possess a stronger woodsy nuance, similar to iris rhizomes, binding woody and floral notes perfectly such as in the masterful Lutens creations Féminité du Bois and Bois de Violette.
Irone alpha (6-methyl alpha ionone) is a most popular ingredient among ionones in pure form due to its silvery woodiness and its hint of raspberry.
Maurice Roucel was the composer of the mournful, cooly wistful Iris Silver Mist for Lutens focused on the nitrile Irival . Violet is what gives Paris by Yves Saint Laurent its romantic facet beneath the embullient rose, but also the old-world powdery allure beneath the leather in Jolie Madame.

Violet Leaf absolute, on the other hand, smells herbaceous with an oily earthy nuance and naturally includes salicylates [more on which here]. Octin esters and methyl heptin carbonate are used to render the floral green violet leaf "note" with watery accents of melon and cucumber, customary in many modern masculine fragrances and the family of fougères (an aromatic group based on the accord of lavender-coumarin-oakmoss). It also gave the older version of Farhenheit its distinctive feel. If you want to get a good impression of violet leaf in a contemporary composition, smell Eau de Cartier. Several of the greener violet fragrances in the market such asVerte Violette by L’artisan or La Violette by Annick Goutal explore those aspects. The Unicorn Spell by micro-niche brand Les Nez is a peculiar case where violet leaves take on the greeness of just cut husks of harricots verts.
In Dans Tes Bras by F.Malle the tone comes from Iraldeine, a base that helps recreate the freshness of violet flowers, alongside ionones and salicylates. The aromachemical α-n-methyl ionone became commercially available around 1935 in Haarmann & Reimer's Iraldeine Alpha rein and Givaudan's Raldeine A (the main constituent of Fath’s legendary Iris Gris) which Ernest Beaux ~good friends with Leon Givaudan~ is said to have included in 25% concentration in the long-lost Mademoiselle Chanel No.1 from 1942-1946 (as analysed and publicized in 2007 in Perfumer & Flavorist magazine). [Read more on the history of Chanel fragrances issued by Coco Chanel in the 1940s, such as Chanel No.11, No.55 and No.46 in this article]. A modern example of violet leaves in a feminine composition in a very contemporary context is provided by Balenciaga Paris fronted by Charlotte Gainsbourg. A good example of the co-existence of the two elements (violet notes and violet leaves) is presented in a new Marc Jacobs fragrance, Daisy Eau so Fresh.

In short, violets and violet leaves alongside ionones and the other molecules used to produce these nuances, are an integral part of modern perfumery and some of the most recognizable "notes" in fragrances any perfume enthusiast should be familiar with. Why don't you try some of the fragrances listed and see what you feel about them?

Top pic kindly provided by Anya McCoy for my use. The second pic displays "stocks" (which we also call violets in Greek), Matthiola Longipetala. The third pic is Millais' Ophelie via wikimedia commons.

Marc Jacobs Daisy Eau so Fresh: fragrance review

Hearing that Marc Jacobs's latest foray into fragrance, Daisy Eau so Fresh, is directed at a "younger audience", one pauses to wonder if 5-year-olds are in need of a little grooming cologne for when they're going out to the playground to meet their friends. The original Daisy, in the bottle with the white rubber Takashi Murakami daisies, is already the personification of the young & hip bright fruity floral: Nothing earth-shattering, a pleasant smell that stands as the perfect "safe floral" for office wear, casual parties and anytime you just can't be bothered to indulge in the splendor and challenge of niche brands such as Serge Lutens, Amouage or Etat Libre d'Orange. In fact the canon of Marc Jacobs is unchallenging, inoffensive perfumes, with possibly the exception of Bang, an entry reminiscent of more exclusive-niche fragrances. Daisy Eau so Fresh, a flanker fragrance to the original following the success of its antecedant, continues on the same sure path that the rest of the Jacobs bottles are merrily heading with a rather nice twist.



What's that twist? Daisy Eau so Fresh is taking a slightly retro route to do so, contrary to the ad copy ~perpetuated via online media, haven't these people smelled the scent?~ which advertises this as "more fruity, more bubbly, more fun". We're obviously dealing with a marketing emphasis on what sells best (which in itself isn't very promising), because this isn't fruitier than the original, nor is it more "bubbly". On the contrary the fragrance's effect is composed in a roundabout way via the distinctive nostalgic note of violets: lots and lots of green violet and violet leaves (via ionones and methyl octyne carbonate /Nonadienal I'm led to believe). Allied to fresh rosy-berry accents and "clean" musks it is a scent on the cusp of "scrubbed" and pear-liquer-like: its sweetness comes via ways that do not recall foodstuff or lush white flowers.
In fact the formula reminds me quite a bit of the re-orchestration of Givenchy's L'Interdit from 2003 in the rounded shoulders rectangular with the small gold cap (there was another reformulation in 2007); same with the violet leaves heavy Balenciaga Paris from last season: the leitmotif is similar and it's a very pretty idea in the realm of "fresh" or "crisp" in a non-citrusy context that should be easy for spring or summer wear. Sillage and tenacity are average for Eau so Fresh.
If pressed to choose between the original Daisy and this one, I would probably pick Eau so Fresh over it, although you'd have to be quite persistent in your persuasion to begin with.

The company certainly used a bit of fanfare during the press launch: Guests were greeted by a horse named Dotty, proceeding to spend their evening sipping cocktails, eating steak, and listening to a DJ set by Daisy Dares You, all the while surrounded by the sweet aromata of raspberry and lychee. Top model Hannah Holman is the face of Marc Jacobs Daisy's latest advertisement, photographed by Juergen Teller.
The bottle, taller and more rectangular than the original Daisy, with a cluster of 6 rubber daisy petal appliques in white, yellow and pink, is simply adorable in its kitsch-cute way, even for a decided aesthetics cynics such as myself.

Notes for Daisy Eau so Fresh by Marc Jacobs:
Top: grapefruit, green notes, raspberry and pear
Heart: jasmine, rose, violet, litchi and apple blossom
Base: musk, virginia cedar and plum.

Daisy Eau so Fresh hits the US market on February 27th at major department stores in 75ml and 125ml of Eau de Toilette.

pic via allurabeauty

Amouage "Library Collection" Opus I, II, III: exclusive fragrance previews

Few niche fragrance lines today are as devoted to opulence as the Omani firm of Amouage founded in 1983. Rich, multi-nuanced baroque tapestries of scent, so textured you feel like you can touch them, Amouage perfumes remind us of how perfumery used to be before restrictions and leaning-tricks gave perfumery its contemporary meagre look. The three upcoming additions Opus I, Opus II and Opus III in the "Library Collection" (which we announced the other day) do not disappoint.


It is with great pleasure that I introduce them to you, writing down my impressions as I test them again and again on my skin these past few days. A few of you might get to try them out in the special preview scheduled in a couple of days (details at the bottom), the rest are urged to seek them out later on when the launch officially. They're true to form and one among them is truly surprising.


Artistic direction is everything when it comes to positioning a perfume brand: Remember Christian Astuguevieille for Comme des Garçons, Lutens for Shiseido and his own eponymous line etc. Likewise, the multi-faceted ~opera, fashion and semiotics among his studies~creative director Christopher Chong has helped Amouage gain the credibility which niche lines are (sometimes only) dreaming of: unflagging consistency, luxury, specific vision, collaboration with top perfumers. His musical background I guess is the reason why the three new Opera (or musically referenced, Opi) were thus baptized. The library standing as the capsule for keeping the creative process contained in tangible, approachable form.

Initially I was a bit sceptical when I heard of a new Collection, especially with arithmetical numbering: These days niche frag "collections" are a dime a dozen and for some weird reason everyone wants to bring out one, semi-establishing themselves as authors of a body of work at the drop of a hat. But in the case of Amouage there is already a line-up of impressive creations, thus crossing effectively that motive off the list. Still, three fragrances in one go seem like one or two would overshadow the rest. But if the Arabian-inspired house has proven anything to us, it's that more is sometimes more, after all! There is nothing minimalistic about Amouage and the new triptych will find its dedicated fans as well, walking the fine line between wearability and artistry successfully.

• Opus I is the most surprising new Amouage in the Library Collection, not from a structural point of view but one of juxtaposing two antithetical elements which miraculously fuse into one another in a case of reverse engineering. Although officially classed as a chypre, Opus I feels like a lush floral with a jarring, really great bitter bigarade top note (like traditional bitter citrus rind confit, almost Roudnitska drool-worthy) which contrasts with tuberose and dominant ylang ylang; both flowers treated into a mentholated ribbon flowing in the wind underneath a plummy accord which is round, fleshy, pudding-rich. The bitterness of bigarade and the tarry notes offsets the salicylates of the flowers, while the sweet elements (tonka, plum accord) brings out the nectarous qualities. The most pyramidal of the three, where there is a clear and distinct progression from top to heart and then slowly segueing into base.

• Opus II promised to be evocative of "old books, dark wooden shelves and antique leather armchairs" and only because I already knew that from the announcement of the new line, I purposely jumpled the samples around, as if.... Proclivities are almost hard-wired and both nature & nurture seems to conspire making me always gravitate towards such compositions. If I were to sum it up I would proclaim Opus II a spicy incense fragrance and in that field it plays seamlessly. The core of frankincense reveals a zesty freshness the way the natural resin tears have a lemony, orange-y freshness as they smoke serenely on the censer. Contrary to Opus I, which starts refreshingly bitter and turns sweeter and lush, Opus II goes for the reverse: A warm, soothing opening of rosy spice and absinth liquer (see our Series) becomes cooler and more celebral as the time passes; while the final warm sweetish remnants on skin project at a low hum like bass heard from a distance. Unquestionably my favourite, it reflects what Christopher had said: "The Amouage customer is an international traveler who has picked up antiques and items of furniture while travelling around the world and has built a home reflecting a global approach to design, but housed within an Omani-inspired space."

• Opus III is built around violets, clearly detectable from the very start, taking on nuances of both candied petals and greener, leafier verdancy with a sage-like tone. The aromatic top has a quirky nuance, with pungent, bracken and honeyed tonalities, turbidity set against a woody base. Even though violets are usually thought of as feminine and retro-glamorous, reminiscent of makeup paraphernalia, here they're treated in both directions of sweet and mainly green, rendering the finished scent suitable for both sexes. Opus III feels linear, united into one ultra-complex chord which projects with unwavering assurance.

All three fragrances in the Library Collection bear the sign of Frankincense, the emblem of the luxurious fragrance line, sensed in various degrees and they all smell full and rich, the way we're used to from the Sultanate of Oman.

The three scents in the Amouage Library Collection are extremely lasting on skin (a full 12 hours and they were still going strong!) and leaving a delicious trail behind without becoming intruding or cloying. Please refer to this post for the exact notes of each.

A sneak preview of the "Library Collection" Opus I, Opus II and Opus III will be taking place at Aedes de Venustas, 9 Christopher Street, New York on Thursday, July 1st, 2010 from 5-8pm and cocktails will be served. It's worth the trip if you're near. The sampler set is endearing, small sprayers encased in pearl white silk-lined matchboxes.

All photos by Elena Vosnaki. Click to enlarge.
Painting of The Queen's Library at St.James's Palace, from The History of the Royal Residences, engraved by Richard Reeve, by William Henry Pyne.
In the interests of full disclosure I was sent 3 preview samples by the company.

Anya's Garden Moondance and Starflower: fragrance reviews (& a draw!)

When the well-trodden becomes anew there is reason for joy. If certain white flowers have always seem unatainable to you, if you found yourself avoiding tuberose for reasons too complicated to unfold, all naturals indie brand Anya's Garden has two aces up her sleeves: Moondance and Starflower, two unconventional new fragrances that ~in typical Anya style~ will surprise you!

In the words of Anya McCoy in Moondance "water mint is underfoot as you dance among the violets and tuberose, as apple herb and roses sing softly".
The ethereal touch of violets opens with a trompe l'oeil touch of the mint: is it there or isn't it? "This is not the direction toothpaste is going", I said to myself, when testing, as the familiar cold-on-a-hot-tongue feeling of industrial-strength fake mint didn't register. Yet, prompted by my desire to locate it, after reading the notes, I paid more attention and it is there if very subtly: But how strange! It only maxes out the dryad feeling of the woody-orris violets into cool green pistas! Herbal scents are difficult to harness, because they seem to project at a frequency that registers them either in the culinary (lamb chops roast) or the marginally aromatherapeutic: think tisanes and hot compresses. Yet, in Moondance the chamomille reminds one of nothing of the sort. Instead it fuses with the Rose de Mai absolute and the natural alpha ionone isolates (i.e.violet) into a synergistic ritual dance in the forest under, you guessed it, a full moon. Tuberose only hints at its presence, if you're not specifically searching for it, you might not realise that it is delicately weaved in here: its bombastic nature is well-behaved for once, like a loud, overactive child who is mesmerised briefly by the shooting stars into silence, as furry animals watch from a distance (Anya used hyrax tincture and hyrax absolute to render this fuzzy animalic comfort blanket). The general ambience is not unlike Isabel Doyen's creation for Les Nez The Unicorn Spell (which is similarly unisex) and lovers of the latter should definitely give a try to Moondance! My only gripe would be its relatively short lasting power, which means that you could use it on a scarf or ~even better~ a leather band on your wrist (How utterly charming! Why should Kurkdjian have all the fun?)

If your tastes do not run into the timid, but you're set for no-limits throttle, full-on speed, then Starflower is more your thing, and by Jove, ain't it mine! Anya McCoy presents floral gourmand Starflower as "candy flower, dreamy and steamy, almond cherry, chocolate and tuberose bring Mexico to you". A Mexican delicasy doesn't even begin to describe it, as luscious chocolate, allied to beautiful, slightly camphoraceous but oh-so-good-it-hurts patchouli (and possibly a maple touch) tempt the taste buds before the nostrils claim all the pleasure. There is nothing of the sanitised patchouli that mainstream brands churn out by the bucketload aiming at the fatigued nose-velcro of urbanites burned out on the Angel-doused armpits of commuters. This is the spirited love affair of rich essences which do not succumb but to the skillful hands of a certain Miami shores artisanal perfumer. The result in Starflower is oddly animalic, deep, incredibly lasting for an all-naturals perfume, and somewhat buttyric: Indeed a CO2 butter essence is hiding under the narcotically-scented tuberose (rendered into her edible vestige, posing for a screen-test with Marcolini and melting into a pool of cream). Anya reveals: "I first became aware of its use in ice cream from an 18th Century book Encarnación's Kitchen: Mexican Recipes from Nineteenth-Century California, and further research showed its use in other sweet desserts. My perfume musings got me to thinking, well, let's see how it would pair with vanilla and chocolate, two other tasty and fragrant offerings from Mexico." I can only say that Starflower should come with a cautionary label attached: "Restrain application or you're seriously risking at having your arms (or other body parts) nibbled on!"

A small precaution if I may would be to sample Moondance before indulging in Starflower, so as not to suffocate the more ethereal into the more full-bodied, much as one would do when tasting wines of different attributes, and cork-off them for a couple of minutes before sniffing (as all-naturals are famous for being too intense to fully grasp at first).
Moondance and Starflower are available from Anya's Garden, in parfum extrait ($75 and $60) and an Eau de Parfum ($125 and $100) or $5 per sample.

Anya had the generosity of sending me two ample samples of the expensive scents for a lucky reader, along with those I sampled for reviewing. Enter a comment if you want to be in the drawing!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Natural scents and perfumers, Tuberose scents

Painting The Fairy Lovers by Theodore von Holst via touch of vaudeville. Women of Mexico Girclee print via fashionfling.blogspot.com.

Balenciaga Paris: new fragrance

A while ago we had been thrilled by the choice of Charlotte Gainsbourg, shot by Steven Meisel, as the new face of the upcoming Balenciaga signature women’s scent, due out in February in Europe (March and April for Asia). Called Balenciaga Paris, it is the first fragrance authored by Balenciaga and Coty Inc., a partnership which began in 2008.
“We’ve been basically out of [the fragrance] business for almost 15, 20 years,” said Isabelle Guichot, Balenciaga president and chief executive officer. “It was important for us to wait until the right moment to really express ourselves back in the industry.” "The aim is to make Balenciaga Paris into a new classic", said Ghesquière and something tells me they're eyeing the uber-success of Narciso Rodriguez For Her in that regard, especially in view of the family in which they're positioning their scent, more of which below. The Balenciaga portfolio included excellent, elegant and distinctive scents (right down to the early 80s Michelle), making this a tall order. Despite the relatively restrained distribution (about 2000 doors worldwide) the expectations run to 90 million $ during the first year, so I would assume that the scent should reflect a wide acceptance potential, especially since Nicolas specified they aimed to reach a wider audience than the one they reach with their accessories.

Right off the bat, I should start by saying that regarding any name conflict which one might be thinking is afoot between the new Balecianga Paris and the classic YSL Paris from the 1980s, we shouldn't hold our breath: As discussed with my collaborator AlbertCan, YSL Beaute and Balencianga both belong to PPR (otherwise known as Gucci Group) which makes a legal case nonsensical as the compensation would come out of the same pocket. Additionally according to the Fragrance Foundation and Michael Edwards, YSL registered their own scent as "Paris d'Yves Saint Laurent" so "Balenciaga Paris" is probably marginally different enough to make the cut. YSL is busy promoting their own Parisienne right now, so the more Paris is heard in fragrance names the better. But enough about the name!

Balenciaga's house designer Nicolas Ghesquière took the plunge for the first time in fragrance launching aided by the young but talented perfumer Olivier Polge (Jacques Polge's of Chanel son) of IFF. The idea for the scent was mining on favourite smells Nicolas could think of and then arranging it in the "both artistic and mathematical process" that creating a scent is all about, according to him. His memory banks contained floor wax and flowers (violet and carnation), plus more urban odors, like gasoline, according to Caroline Javoy, group vice president of Balenciaga, Chloé and Jil Sander at Coty.

Ghesquière said he wanted to give the floral fragrance a contemporary “twist” with something urban and slightly “metallic.” Early on, it was decided Balenciaga’s first scent would be in the floral chypre family — specifically, a violet chypre. “Violet has been used in the fragrance industry for years, but normally more for the powdery effect,” said Javoy. “What Olivier did here was use the fresh, natural effect of violet leaves, and what’s new also is that the violet is really at the core of the fragrance.” Polge integrated redistilled woods, such as cedar and patchouli, too. “It is not a romantic floral,” said Ghesquière. “It’s definitely the mix of tradition and something quite contemporary and urban.”

A violet chypre might recall Balmain's Jolie Madame, but I deduce we're not faced with such a deliciously old-fashioned prospect for various reasons having to do with tastes, focus groups et al. A propos the violet discussion, might I remind readers once again that violet as a note bears absolutely no similarity to violet leaves, as both the materials used to render them as well as the olfactory profile of the ingredients and the composed accords have very little relation, if at all. Violet leaves are par excellence used in masculine colognes for their cucumber-like green metallic freshness which shimmers most suavely in Eau de Cartier.




In the ads for Balenciaga Paris, the left-hand color shot is a still life including the fragrance and a column and an egg, architectural and fashion references. In the right-side, black-and-white image, Charlotte Gainsbourg sits on a Spanish patio (alluding to Balenciaga’s place of origin), while the black-and-white marble floor is a nod to the original Balenciaga boutique design in Paris. The pattern of the prism on the bottle itself (alluding to the plinths and portals in Balenciaga boutiques) and the cracked egg effect on the cap (referencing Italian design from the 1980s, 18th-century enameled vases and the graphics of Balenciaga’s vintage fabrics; or a classic football ball, take your pick!) present themselves as vintage touches seen through the porthole of a modern creation.

“White and ivory are two strong Balenciaga colors,” said Ghesquière. “I wanted this fragrance to be a little character. It has a head, a neckline and a body.” Balenciaga Paris’ streamlined outer packaging harkens back to the brand’s vintage boxes for fragrances (largely out of distribution), such as Le Dix.

In France, the 30-ml. eau de parfum spray will sell for 57 euros, or $84.45; the 50-ml. eau de parfum, for 75 euros, or $111.15, and the 75-ml. eau de parfum, for 94 euros, or $139.25. Ancillaries include a 200-ml. shower gel and a 200-ml. body lotion, for 37 euros and 40 euros, or $54.80 and $59.25, respectively.

Quotes & bottle pic from "Balenciaga Returns to the Fragrance Game" article by Jennifer Weil on WWD. Ad from the Spring 2009 fashions through fashionista.com

Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Woman: fragrance review

"The Chevalier stops, dazzled, at the door: the mirrors covering all the walls multiply their reflections in such a way that suddenly an endless procession of couples are embracing all around them". ~Slowness, Milan Kundera

If you asked me how I knew that the initially named "Ormonde" would be one of my favourites in the Ormonde Jayne line, then I'd tell you that having sampled the lot of them, its languid decay and bittersweet melancholy stood out in my mind for weeks to come and all of a sudden I realised I had to have it! Its dichotomy startled me: Was it dicepherable as that rare genus of a dry woody originally aimed at women (yet men are welcome to borrow) or was it a Sibyllic opaque alloy of contradictions? Ormonde Woman exemplifies admirably what Chandler Burr described: "Ormonde Jayne has created a collection that possesses the quality I most value in perfume: a wonderful and mesmerising strangeness". Pretty, beloved notes take on a grotesque façade that makes them appear convulted in the most arresting way, like figures seen in profile at the mirrors chamber of some far away fun fair through the convulted lens of David Lynch.

A peppery green whisper of Ormonde Woman on a summer day makes me appreciate its haunting, eerie beauty even more, reeling me from the dreary conventionality of mainstream releases into a subtly wicked fairytale. Though woody fragrances are typically pigeonholed in the cooler season, I like to bring out the most understated among them for reveling in their sophisticated embrace even on the sunniest of days. Brooding claustrophobia where no sunlight can penetrate seems to engulf you when woody fragrances unfold in the snow and sleat, and yet wait and luminosity cuts through the enchanted cobwebs, making them sparkle like jewels when cast under the bright morning sun.

The rooty, piney and spicy opening of wet earth and sinister anthropomorphic grasses mingles with a sweet, almost licorice-like violet delicacy in Ormonde Woman's heart, uplifting the composition into a sophisticated enigma; one which cannot be dissected into sexual temptation and loss of innocence, yet one feels they're all there, under the trampled leaves like a not-so-innocent adult Red Riding Hood who strayed off the path to become a she-wolf. The poison cup offered comes in the dangerous guise of black hemlock absolute, a rare essence that the founder Linda Pilkington utilises in rarely foreseen quantities to concoct just the right hypnotic spell. A tireless traveller, Linda has fostered relationships with growers all over the world from Laos and the Philippines to Morocco and France, gaining her remarkable access to the most unusual exotic oils. The drydown of Ormonde Woman bears facets of a dry, non-sweet amber that peters out inivisibly. Fabric Magazine said it well: "Her signature scent Ormonde Woman made from black hemlock is a real femme fatale, all black feathers, felt capes and illicit affairs"

Notes for Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Woman: cardamom, coriander, grass oil, black hemlock, violet, jasmine absolute, vetiver, cedar wood, amber, and sandalwood.

Ormonde Woman can be purchased directly from the official Ormonde Jayne website or at their London boutique.

For our readers an amazing offer: Mail sales@ormondejayne.com with "Perfume Shrine Ormonde Woman" in the title to receive 200 complimentary deluxe samples of Ormonde Woman! The 201st person will get an Ormonde Woman Bathing Beauty Gift Box!!

Clarification after a question to OJ: The new packaging in the square rather than oblong bottle has been raised in price due to costs involved: the costs of essence oils have risen, the caps are in glass instead of plastic and the whole presentation has become even more luxurious!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Ormonde Jayne news, interviews and reviews

Painting Anansi & death by Johanna Uhrman via jonnakonna.com
Mirror picture via guardian.co.uk

Lieu de Reves by Sonoma Scent Studio: fragrance review

Some pieces of music are inherently inducive to daydreaming, relying on this art form's absence of visual stimulus to ignite introspection, and Debussy's Rêverie is especially so. Perfume can also be said to act comparatively, as small nuances prompt reminiscences or reinforce our mood, when we reach for a bottle that has the seemingly mystic power to accomplish just that. Violet scents are often tender, understated beauties which lend themselves to feelings of reverie and sotto voce intimations.
In Lieu de Rêves (Place of Dreams) by Sonoma Scent Studio the composition seems to kickstart such a daydreaming mood, blending the scents of violet petals and fallen leaves, alterating cool roots and warm tonalities, thus evoking a spring-like silvery olfactory veil raised ~the full spectrum of aroma derived from violet, rose and heliotrope, elegantly melding into the anticipation of warmer days of spring.

Laurie Erickson, the independent perfumer behind the Sonoma Scent Studio company, created Lieu de Rêves as a continuation on her study of violets, progressing from Voile de Violette , Wood Violet and the now defunct Violette Encens. The comparison between these four fragrances suggests that Lieu de Rêves is closer to Voile de Violette (Violet Veil), minus the myrrh, rather than her other two scents, which present woodier and more resinous facets. Wood Violet in particular also has a pronounced spicy (a bit like fenugreek)-plummy-cedary character which really veers it off the troden path of standard violet fragrances into Lutensian territory.
In creating Lieu de Rêves Laurie intimates:

"I've had this blend in mind for a long time, wanting to use violet, rose, and heliotrope in a powdery scent with a gourmand touch but with some soft woodsy notes and less vanilla than most scents of this genre. The heliotrope, rose, violet, and cedar make nice companions. Like most rose and violet combinations, this scent feels a bit romantic to me, but the drydown is on the quiet and reflective side rather than being a full-blown floral".

There is some kinship with other violet powdery combinations like the underappreciated -but lovely- Météorites by Guerlain, or the much more strongly vanillic talc-like Teint de Neige by Lorenzo Villoresi. Admirers of Flower by Kenzo and woody Genie des Bois by Keiko Mecheri should also take note, although Lieu de Rêves is much subtler than the former in terms of sillage and projection, remaining polite in its invitation-only disposition. Laurie masterfully restrained the usual sweetness of violets, injecting somber woody touches and a delicate silvery-green transparence in the form of jasminy hedione. The combinations of damascones and ionones to render an amalgamation of rose and violet is akin to a seamless blend of micronised particles on a big pon-pon of face powder the shade of iridiscent orchid-purple, like Cattleya labiata blossoms. The rose takes supportive role behind the violet powderiness and the hazy soft focus ambience of heliotrope (the common garden variety Heliotropium arborescens) which has a fluffy almond-vanillic note like air-spun meringues that is hard to harness as it is inherently sweet and is usually rendered via heliotropin. The coumarin-rich tonka bean is also complimentary to sweet notes, creating a "clean" powder vibe. Yet here the trick seems to consist in upping the somber cedar and grassy-woody note (vetiver) and adding a quite discernible overlay of soft-focus iris coolness (the irones of iris are ionone-like and complimentary to the violet notes). This gives Lieu de Rêves a somewhat wistful, tender beauty of a bygone era that doesn't fall back on oversentimentality nevertheless. Much as it being a floral fragrance, it possesses a well-bred character with some appetite for healthy pleasures that would suit a heroine in a Henry James' novel. It makes me reach for kitten-heels and goose-down puffs and dream about traipsing across Giverny in spring.

Notes for Sonoma Scent Studio Lieu de Rêves:
Heliotrope, violet, rose, jasmine, cedar, amber, vetiver, tonka, orris, vanilla, musk, very soft aldehydes.

The perfume launched in February '09 and is available in 17ml or 34ml bottles, directly from Sonoma Scent Studio.



For our readers Sonoma Scent Studio is organising* a lucky draw of 5 sampler duos of both Lieu de Rêves and Sienna Musk (another one I loved). State your interest in the comments please!

*{Please note some shipping restrictions due to Customs apply as stated on the SSS site}.

Pic Les Reves d'Amelie by BigboyDenis(fc02.deviantart.com). Claude Debussy's Rêverie clip originally uploaded by atrafalgar on Youtube.