Showing posts with label woody chypre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label woody chypre. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 19, 2023

Roja Dove Diaghilev: fragrance review

 Much of our information on the particularities of Sergey Diaghilev the man come from the many exhibitions and press catalogues which have been relying on the lasting aftermath of Les Ballet Russes in Europe. Apparently the story of the Diaghilev by Roja Dove fragrance is more complex. 

The fragrance began as an Eau de Parfum concentration as attested by the older advertising images for the Victoria & Albert museum exhibitions and lectures. It then moved to the uniform "whiskey carafe" style of extrait de parfum bottles in a more concentrated form. It is indeed the Eau de Parfum which I had first tried years ago and proclaimed it inwardly "a Mitsouko analogue." (referencing the famous Guerlain perfume from 1919)


The reference is not lost upon those who know a thing or two about the man through the bibliography on his life and opus. Serge Diaghilev was enamoured with Guerlain's Mitsouko during the height of his career with Les Ballets Russes and used to drench his curtains with it. Drenching the curtains in perfume....sounds so decadent and eccentric, right? The impression must have been something of an autumnal twilight, just as the Guerlain scent segues into the forest floor after immersing you in a liqueur like the fuzzy skin of golden nectarous peaches ripened in the sun... Charlie Chaplin was also a fan. There's something about it that makes creative juices flow.


 joelm

In a way, both Mitsouko by Guerlain and Diaghilev by Roja Dove bring a sense of awakening to the senses upon smelling them. They're both lush, fruity chypre perfumes, and they're both like a beauty coming back from a long-forgotten slumber, like the princess sleeping in the Sleeping Beauty ballet that Les Ballets Russes performed.


 internationalposters


The transition from the citrusy top note is as smooth in Diaghilev as in the Guerlain, with the linalyl acetate of bergamot smoothing the pathway to the core of the chypre skeleton, and piquant notes of spices and herbs (cloves, peppery jolt, tarragon) give a lively burst alongside the plush. The spicy component is a counterpart to the fruity and floral aspects. It's never a flat scent; it's always bronze-y and lush.


 harrods


The modern re-issue took the structure of the Eau de Parfum and gave it in Extrait de Parfum an immensity of duration that far surpasses the 24-hour mark on skin. The old bases like Persicol have tremendous tenacity and the synthetic civet feels like it opens up the best elements, attaching itself to the fruity and floral aspects and making them extend into infinity.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Cartier Panthere and Cartier La Panthere: fragrance review & comparison of vintage vs. modern edition

Reading there are two editions, one old, one new, by Cartier with the emblematic panther in the name, one is faced with an embarrassment of riches. The good news is that perfumer Mathilde Laurent' style is vibrant, luminous, recognizable in the newer incarnation, La Panthère. The bad news (if that is considered bad in itself) is that it bears no copy-paste relation to the previous fragrance,  Cartier  Panthère, launched in 1986 and circulating well into the 1990s to be discontinued later on.


While the older Panthère is a ripe and fruity-saturated perfume which is recalling a trend of the 1980s and mid-90s (and bears a knowing kinship to the later Champagne/Yvresse by Sophia Grojsman with its fruit-liquor density, I always thought, as well as winking to Dior Poison), the newer La Panthère is a musky floral with a healthy dose of oakmoss felt in the base, which gains life on the skin, rather than on the paper blotter on which it is presented in perfumeries. Indeed to judge it by merely its effect on paper would be to misunderstand it.

I like what I smell on a batch of the older, Alberto Morillas composed Panthère which I received through a split from a bona fide collector. My own small bottle from 1991 was in a ramschackle state, due to it being kept on a dresser for the better part of that decade. The little remaining inside had become a thickish goo which muddled all notes together. So jogging my memory was necessary. The rather significant amount I ordered proves that my former instincts are correct.

The floral notes (tuberose amongst them) are so honeyed and dense (and warmed up by civet notes) that they gain an overripe fruitiness, reminiscent of grappa spirits. The resinous qualities have an aldehydic brilliance to them and a tenacity which has both influential wake (you sniff this from time to time on yourself) and good lasting power, either on skin or on clothes. It's a perfume that seems out of joint with the modern sensibilities in a way, yet like 24 Faubourg it doesn't smell really retro, just mature and "full." Contrary to 24 Faubourg, nevertheless, the older Panthère's aura is less formal and a little more playful, at least to me.

In contrast the newer 2014 La Panthère (differentiated both by bottle and by the article "La" [sic], i.e. "the" before the animal-emblem) spells modern sensibilities galore, yet done in a very tasteful way. Much like Baiser Vole (which let it be noted I liked a lot) was Laurent's take on one of the mega-trends of recent perfumery, that is, the gently powdery floral, here in La Panthère takes some of the tricks of the illusionist, making you see fruit (fresh, tart, like pear liqueur, greenish too, a touch of budding gardenias) while the floral bouquet develops beyond any doubt and gains radiance by the hour. The underscoring by musks fortunately doesn't tilt the perfume into laundry detergent territory, as many fear due to the abundance of musk molecules in functional products used for cleaning and drying our clothes due to their hydrophobic properties (which ensure a lasting impression).

Specifically Musk ketone in the base, which smells warm, inviting, pulsating from the skin, forms an aura that warms up with the heat of the body. Although previously restricted and disappearing from perfumes, it is re-introduced and utilized by some (but not all!) perfume companies and perfume labs. It is exactly its thermoregulating properties which are lost on the blotter, so I advice giving it some time to evolve on the warmth of someone living. The mossy notes brings the composition closer to something which indeed has a 1980s kin than anything. Yet it still remains contemporary, youthful, sparkling with life, a modern chypre. One of the better releases so far.

I really like the concave bottle which is carved from the inside to hold the juice into the cavity formed by the panther's head. In all sincerity I found the commercial (and the overly "meaningful" gaze of the model) yawn-inducing. But your mileage may vary.

Available at major department stores internationally.



Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Puredistance Black: fragrance review

Fermented prunes, cognac in oak barrels and handfuls of woolen knits folded into camphoraceous tissue paper that emits that borderline vibe between poison and medicine. Shadows growing longer and longer as the passage of the sun on the horizon wanes; lacquered furniture glowing in the flick of tallow candlelight; crayon designs fatty and saturated hanging off the walls depicting strange faces of old Asian men. There's a certain oiliness and smokiness about Puredistance Black, the upcoming perfume launch by the niche company founded in Vienna, Austria,, adorning it with the striking bone structure of a silent film icon, when shadow and light played the game of drawing the eye across a never ending vista of possibilities; even the slightest tremor of facial muscles gained reinforced nuance in this medium. Or to quote Lydia in Beetlejuice: "Well, I've read through that handbook for the recently deceased. It says: 'live people ignore the strange and unusual'. I, myself, am strange and unusual."

via latino-review.com

Puredistance has wisely limited its aromatic outpour to one fragrance per year (or even less frequently) choosing to differentiate itself from the many niche brands who dilute their essence in too many simultaneous launches. It has also set the bar pretty high with their stupendous masculine M fragrance and their graceful I and Opardu perfume for women, so expectations are understandably high for their newest release. Black doesn't disappoint, especially since it fills a void in the line that we hadn't realized was there. It's different enough from the leathery and attention-grabbing M fragrance with its elegant 1960s character, and projects as something darker, untamed by the ways of the civilized world. The concentration of 25% essence in Black certainly guarantees a rich experience, however the concept of a whispering scent is adhered to most faithfully; the secrets of Puredistance Black are revealed very slowly, discreetly, from mouth to ear rather than on speakers, a feat by perfumer Antoine Lie (famous for the infamous Secretions Magnifiques and many Etat Libre d'Orange fragrances, among others), given the intensity of the raw materials.

The company doesn't give away any of those raw materials. I absolutely love this; it will make reading and hearing impressions by those who will subsequently test Puredistance Black a real treat, as the mind often interferes with what the nose perceives. Mine is attacked by a quasi-brutal opening with a tangy citric fruitiness allied to the darkest, earthiest patchouli possible, like snails coming out of the bush in the dusk, but the cloak of the night soon mollifies it with a woody cluster of honeyed plummy-cedar notes reminiscent of the Lutens canon and a "suede" orientalism. The sweet melange is also reminiscent of pipe tobacco, laced with a boozy aftertaste that lingers. (I hypothesize smoky cypriol/cyperus and vetiver should be featured too). Chewy, a meat course for non vegetarians.

The essence of the concept for Black by Puredistance was to create a perfume that is close to the wearer and releases sensual and elegant scent layers in a whispering way—without shouting. A mysterious fragrance that stays in the shadow, giving away —only every now and then—part of its nature. Perfumer Antoine Lie loved the concept presented by founder Jan Ewoud Vos and created a sophisticated perfume full of charm with the same elegant personality as the timeless classic Puredistance I, but then more masculine and oriental.

via shootxmylife
If I were to offer a comparative assessment, even though the press material does coach me not to analyze too much, I'd say Puredistance Black reminds me of the darkness and weirdness factor of Goutal's Un Parfum Cheri, par Camille, fueled by an intense Indonesian patchouli grade replete with all its earthy chocolate and darkness "dirty" facets. But whereas this shadowy woody chypre flopped for Goutal, alienating the regular customer who hankered after delicate florals resting atop angels' wings, Puredistance has the cojones to follow through on the sheer sparsity and clarity of their line: there is no "definitive" demographic for Puredistance (yet) and this plays to the company's advantage.  Black would be also liked by those who appreciate Borneo 1834 and Bois de Violette or by oudh and tobacco fragrances fans, as the bittersweet oriental feel would appeal. Although marketed as a masculine, in many ways it's what Coco Noir might have been (a scent marketed to modern women who shun florals and sweet gourmands). Minor gripe about the name (thingamagick) as we have discussed before, but one can't deny its evocative powers.

According to Puredistance, Black is created in Paris by the famous French perfumer Antoine Lie and it will be available from December 2013 in 17.5, 60 and 100 ml flacons.

In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample vial by the company pre-release.


Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Etro Gomma: fragrance review

Why is it that leather fragrances often produce the effect Frau Blücher's name does to horses in Young Frankenstein? Many otherwise accomodating perfume enthusiasts report some leather fragrances smelling pungent, sour or just outright harsh, admitting defeat and throwing the towel. But Etro, bless their joyful Italian hearts, have come up with the right answer for those cuirophobics: a friendly modern leather to eclipse fears and ignite desires instead.

Unlike "Blucher" which (does not) mean glue in German, "Gomma" means rubber and one would expect the "hot tires accord" and elastic that is purported to be at the heart of Bulgari Black (I say "purported" because the rubberiness of Black is actually quite vanillic and smooth to me, rather than acrid as one would imagine). There is a dose of it at the top in Gomma, but nothing to frighten the horses, if you will allow the pun.
Technically a "woody chypre", but more acurately an ambery leather, Gomma is among Etro's most successful creations, if only because it's distinctive (in the Knize Ten mould) and at the same time user-friendly. Composed by legendary perfumer Edouard Fléchier, it would be, wouldn't it? Not only does it layer well under simple soliflores, if you're after that sort of thing (try it with an iris or a carnation, or even better a lush jasmine to compliment its own floralcy), but it lends itself to easy wearing throughout the day and lasts rather well on my skin and on clothes, despite it being only an Eau de Cologne concentration. I can only imagine just how satisfying an Eau de Parfum version would be.

The secret of Gomma's success? A sheer pungent leather base that is more like birch tar (Cuir de Russie, Tabac Blond) than pike-harsh green quinolines (Bandit) and most reminiscent of Knize Ten (quite close in fact, although the Knize is brassier, fruitier, with lots of castoreum). But the theme is rendered via a diaphanous treatment with a slightly herbal-soapy tonality and a pleasurable sweet accent of indefineable white flowers. It's therefore the perfect leather fragrance for summer wearing or for the office without betraying the insouciant character that a cuir fragrance brings to its wearer: You won't stand out like a sore thumb, but you will leave others wondering what is that indvidual (and delicious) smell.
Staying power is average on the whole especially taking in mind the concentration, while warm weather seems to extend the sillage/trail left behind. And as to who can wear it? "I don't know if it's a masculine, a feminine or a unisex scent." the Non Blonde proclaims. I concur. Even inanimate things take on a new 5th dimension in it!

Notes for Etro Gomma:
citrus, artemisia, spices, leather, jasmine, amber.

Etro has revamped their packaging recently, making all caps silver instead of gold and rendering the boxes a graphic black and white instead of the old paisley (which I prefered). You can see both versions in the pics.
A 3.4 oz/100ml bottle retails for $165, on Amazon it's 143$ but sometimes it can be found discounted.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Leather series (everything about leather in perfumery & leather scents reviews)


Photo of old-style Etro Gomma bottle by Elena Vosnaki (click the pic to enlarge). Newer packaging via punmiris.com

Monday, May 10, 2010

Coty Imprevu: fragrance review

One of the major pitfalls that awaits a perfume enthusiast is for them to disregard valued, glamorous specimens of the past due to the merely trendy attire of the brand hosting them in the present. Coty and their Imprévu is a case in point! Miles away from the current celebuttante fruit-salads they serve now, Imprévu is a meaty course that still retains a degree of refinement; it's fine veal served with silver tableware. The delicious name, meaning "unforeseen", predisposes for a surprising impression and indeed this feminine leathery woody chypre from 1965 is unprecedented, unique and surprising in more than one way. They had it right when they advertised: "Beyond all expectations"!

The timing in which Imprévu was introduced is crucial: On the one hand the Coty house had passed through the Symplegades of both the Great Depression and World War II and emerged still resilient, if diminished in radiance. François Coty's divorced wife had a brother-in-law, Philippe Cotnareanu, who was immersed in the business. Cotnareanu changed his name to Philip Cortney and under that pseudonym took rein of the colossal portfolio. Coty and Coty International were eventually sold to Chas. Pfizer & Co. for about $26 million in 1963, thus becoming divisions in the pharmaceuticals company's consumer products group. The 1965 launch was Coty's new perfume in 25 years! Success was almost immediate: By the end of 1968 Imprévu became the leading Coty fragrance.
On the other hand, Imprévu, composed by an unsung perfumer, also came at an opportune time in the global perfume zeitgeist: A time when greener and aldehydic scents were very popular: Yves St. Laurent had launched his glorious Y in 1964, while Guy Laroche issued the green tropical Fidji in 1966. The older favourites, Chanel No.5 and Miss Dior, were still best-sellers. But the not so griffe market presented considerable competition as well: Avon was going strong with Topaze, and Fabergé with the antithetical earthy Woodhue. Imprévu was perfect for the moment!
It's an irony and a testament to the changing tastes in fashion however that rather soon the strike of gold was at an end: Emeraude, L'Origan and L'Aimant became the long-standing classics in the Coty portfolio after the 1980s, condemning Imprévu in the disgrace of being practically given away at drugstores who sold it at seriously discounted prices. The above nevertheless is no reflection on the fragrance's value whatsoever.

Imprévu (pronounced ahm-pre-VHU) by Coty is decidedly adult, like a long sip of extra dry martini when you know you really shouldn't or the deliberate "poisonous" smear of lipstick on a man's colar. It explores several themes of yore and does so with unrefuted elegance: From the aldehydic boosting of the crisp citrus (bergamot, bitter orange) opening, reminiscent of Coty's own Chypre (the latter is fresher and somewhat more piquant overall), to the mildly leathery heart, all the way down to the foresty conifers that hide beneath the abstract flowers. Like some classic fragrances in the cuir family (notably Tabac Blond by Caron) the tannic facet of leather is boosted and contrasted by the merest touch of cloves, registered to the mind as carnation. Overall fresh in that mossy way that classic chypres are fresh rather than cloying, the scent is very well-mannered despite the earthy oakmoss inclusion. What stays on the skin poised for long when the other elements have dissipated is the creamy woodiness of that drydown phase of Bois des Îles by Chanel.

Neither too woody nor leathery, nor too chypre, but striking a perfect balance between all those elements, Imprévu comes as the unexpected state of grace when you simply don't know what to choose and just need something that is truly unique and smells good at the same time. Even though marketed as a feminine, men who are adventurous wouldn't have trouble getting away with it.

Although the usual bottle in which it is presented is the one depicted here and in the ads (which show the extrait de parfum version), other styles were also circulating, notably one with a simple gold-toned cap and a simple glass flacon with gold-tone lettering or another one with a simple plastic blue cover (especially for the versions circulating in Europe)
Imprévu by Coty has been discontinued for a long time now, with no plans by the company to bring it back as per our latest communication. Occasional sighthings are made on Ebay at elevated prices.




Photos from Ebay

Friday, October 9, 2009

Hermes Terre d'Hermes Parfum: fragrance review

In evaluating how Terre d'Hermès has been a resounding commercial success, but also a firm winner on the top lists of best fragrances on discerning consumers boards such as Basenotes for a couple of years consecutively, it is not difficult to understand its appeal and range of qualities that accounted for its popularity, earning it a newly fledged version named Terre d'Hermès Parfum.

The refreshing overture, the unusual, intellectual, mineral facets in its core and the great radiance of its woody bottom (accounted by IsoE Super, more on which on this article) are the cornerstones on which its reputation has been cemented.

Extrait de Parfum pour Homme is not the most usual concentration when one thinks about masculine fragrances. In fact the American generic term "cologne" for masculine scents is not without some sort of reasoning behind it: It seems that most men are accustomed to resort to splashes of scented eau on their neck after a good, close shave or a shower, and additionally they have been conditioned to believe that a men's fragrance should be light and not really perceptible beyond a certain number of paces. The belief has been a remnant of a patriachal code of conduct of the first half of the 20th century, in which men customarily earned the daily bread, read the newspaper while the wife put the babies to sleep and never wore anything remotely removed from lavender water, hesperidic eaux or aromatic concoctions that didn't leave any doubt to which team they were playing for.
Times have changed, new fathers pay more attention to their families, while some opt out of families in the traditional sense altogether, and the market has had to conform. Companies have realised that there is a new sophistication in the air, what with the emergence of the new metrosexual man, but also with the newly rediscovered ~for the Western world~ pleasure of reaping the benefits of aromatics and essences for the benefit oneself: A new audience that laps up niche offerings and ooohs and aaaahs at Pierre Montale's offerings or Amouage's luxurious attars is ready for a proposition that goes against the grain: Namely not an Eau de Parfum (in itself also a rare phenomenon in the universe of masculine fragrances) but an Extrait de Parfum, aka pure parfum! Thus Guerlain is offering their excellent Habit Rouge Extrait, Ormonde Jayne and Clive Christian are not far behind with their own, but it is Hermès that just launched a new version of their best-selling 2006's Terre d'Hermès in parfum concentration which will reign in terms of awareness and recognisability, I bet.

Terre d’Hermès Parfum explores a denser “Terre” (earth) than the original eau de toilette which married the skies above with the earth below. An intense concentration surely, yet not just ‘an intense version of Terre d’Hermès’ specifies Jean-Claude Ellena, but rather a rewriting that ‘amplifies the concept, and ‘heightens the contrasts’. Ellena has intensified the mineral-flint facets, and reinforced benzoin’s role resulting in a more bottom-heavy composition which nevertheless isn't far removed from the original. In the opening, shiso’s green, minty accents awaken the citrus tonalities a bit more perceptively. while the increased cedar allied to mossy notes tilt the composition from the aromatic hesperidic to the woody chypre; one of easy elegance. Still the experimentation in parfum strength seems like a studious exercise in concept more than practice, because the original had plenty of tenacity and diffusion already and its depths did not easily lend into a very intricate fugue treatment but more to a graceful and easy-paced minuet.

The spray bottle design is so similar, almost identical (well, slightly squarer) to the original Terre d'Hermès that one might dismiss it and think it's the standard product: At least I did! It was with the greatest surprise that I was gently guided at the boutique towards it, by a most graceful and passionate assistant who nodded his head sagely, insisting it's indeed the parfum. Its geometrical, graceful contours and big size belie its unusual concentration: At 75ml/2.5oz it's a LOT of parfum to last you through several months even if used every day! Tenacity, sillage and evolution on both blotter and skin are excellent, testament to the great technical merit of the reworked composition. Perhaps the only gripe could be the price which is unusually low for a parfum concentration, about half of what is asked for the similar products in the feminine range at Hermès. But I am hypothesizing that the masterplan behind this marketing move was that men are practical creatures when it comes to their grooming products and don't have the madly voracious eye that women have in view of luxury, so a reasonable approach might work better with them. At any rate, at those prices and for such potency and tenacity, it's a bargain; assuming you already like the original Terre d'Hermès of course and would like to complete your collection.

Notes for Terre d'Hermes Parfum:

Top: Orange, shiso, grapefruit, pepper
Heart: Flint, mineral notes, geranium leaves
Base: Woody Notes, oak Moss, vetiver, patchouli, benzoin

Available at boutique Hermès and soon in stores.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Interview with master perfumer Jean Claude Ellena


Photo of Jean Cocteau by irving Penn 1950. Pic of bottle via sfilate.it

Friday, October 24, 2008

Vetiver Tonka by Hermes: fragrance review and lucky draw

To bean or not to bean? The answer at Hermès is there is no bean counting in their pursuit for true luxury, but when it comes to perfumery, they go tonka bean all the way! What's the point of my word-play? That the delectable raw material of tonka beans has been utilised in the most delicious way paired with earthy vetiver in their mouthwatering fragrance Vétiver Tonka. Composed by in-house perfumer Jean Claude Ellena in 2004 as part of the original quartet for Hermès's exclusive collection for their boutiques, the Hermessences, Vétiver Tonka was meant to interpret the sensation of wool. (the other Hermessences also capture the drape of various fabrics). "Comfortable, fresh, affirmed" is how they chose to describe it themselves and I couldn't agree more.

Subtly edible notes with cigar-flavoured accents are folded into a classy amalgam by the genius light hand of a conjurer: Jean Claude Ellena's strongest suit. The warm smokiness that alludes to pouches of rich tobacco is an element that I am sorely missing in the current batches of the classic Vétiver by Guerlain where it was providing an inviting hug after the grassy delights, but happily the coumarin-rich smell of tonka beans remains intact. Guerlain's version is of course overall much more citrusy, vetiver in itself possessing an hesperidic facet that is often used as a springboard in composing masculine colognes around it. Jean Claude merely hints at that aspect of the exotic grass seguing on to "cleaner" notes that almost instantenously get the smothering treatment of an artistic flou via hazy notes, much like the flour part of his Bois Farine for L'artisan parfumeur.

Vétiver Tonka encompasses the tempered note of vetiver that re-appeared in Terre d'Hermès two years later ~also by Ellena. He seems to love the material, using the Haitian vetiver essential oil, vetiverol as well as vetyveryl acetate. Ever since Déclaration, a spicy masterpiece in my opinion, he has been using all those beloved materials in various incarnations, all the way to the specifically ordered vetiver extraction he procured for the intriguing and perplexing Un Jardin après la Mousson. That said, lovers of strong, dank, almost musty vetiver should rather look for it in Route de Vetiver by Maitre Parfumer et Gantier or Vétiver Extraordinaire by F.Malle.

The violet-like note of alpha isomethyl-ionone (which is sniffable in another Hermessence too, Paprika Brasil, where it takes almost an iris nuance) is the humorous touch that Jean Claude tricks us with: he did the same thing pairing beta ionone (also reminiscent of violets) with hedione to come up with the scent of tea in Bulgari's Eau parfumée au Thé Vert.
The dominant force however is tonka bean , which has a hay/caramel vanilla-ish scent, very soothing, very creamy. Smelling it from the bottle or on a blotter at first it seems a bit clashing ~to be excpected since the two elements are so antithetical on first reading, but on skin it is predominantly sweetish, velvety soft and nutty-oily, which I find sublimely comforting. The naturally dry and woody smell of vetiver as well as a slight bitterness inherent in tonka beans provide a counterpoint to the sweet float of the vanillic base, so the whole is perfectly balanced between dryness and comfort; which sets it one step ahead of the equally mouthwatering but much more gourmand Ambre Narguilé from the same line and for me personally makes it more wearable in warmer weather than the denser Vétiver Oriental by Serge Lutens. This charming duet dances in situ for hours with little change, but boredom never enters the equation as the combined efforts sing at an unheard of before frequency. Additionally there is an interplay of cool and warm facets which makes for stimulating results making Vétiver Tonka suitable for every climate and every season. It lasts very well for an eau de toilette, perhaps more than any other in the collection, is perfectly unisex and has moderate, elegant sillage.

So to answer my introductory word-play, I have been for the bean in a most decisive way ever since I first tried it: Reader, I have spent most of last summer in it!

For one lucky reader interested in a sample triad of the last three niche vetivers reviewed (Malle, Lutens, Hermes), plase state your interest in the comments.
Draw will run throughout the weekend.
Notes for Vétiver Tonka : bergamot, neroli, lily of the valley, cereal notes, dried fruit, tonka bean, vetiver, tobacco, sandalwood.

Vétiver Tonka by Hermès (2004) forms part of the Hermessences exclusive collection, sold at their boutiques in spartan bottle with leather-covered caps. It comes in either 100ml/2.4oz or a set of 4x15ml/0.5oz travel set sprayers. (There is also the option of getting it in a set of pre-selected 15ml travel sprayers along with 3 other Hermessences for the uniform price of 150 euros).

For a comprehensive analysis of vetiver fragrances click Vetiver Series.


Pic of Ralph Fiennes courtesy of Evy Nef at photobucket. Bottle pic through Fragrantica.

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