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

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Bourjois Kobako: fragrance review

Kobako means "small box" in Japanese, as far as I know. But try adding a katana-blade symbol over the first "o," and it turns into Kōbako. Then it gains the nuance of a small box for solid aromatics used in the incense ceremony in kōdō (香道, "Way of Incense"); the ritual burning of incense to count the time. Such is the case with Kobako by the classic French brand Bourjois. 

A composition that initially hails from 1936 and the creative genius of perfumer Ernest Beaux, but which survives to this day in a contemporary Parfum de Toilette version that was first issued during the 1980s in the cristal taillé style bottle and the maroon box photographed below. The actual launch date for the modern version is 1982, and I doubt that the two editions have much in common, both stylistically and artistically. There was too much water under the bridge by then.

photo of Kobako by Bourjois by Elena Vosnaki

photo by Elena Vosnaki



It's interesting to note that one of the connotations for the word 'box' is the one used in slang, in many languages, for female genitalia. Indeed, again as far as I have been informed, kōbako in modern Japanese slang refers to that as well. But the scent in question is not an animalic or intimate smell that would polarize at all. In fact, it's this discrepancy that prompted my review.

The current fomula is not the one from the 1930s, so the description pertains to the 1980s mix. 

The domineering feeling is one of soap, like an old-fashioned soap for men, with cinnamon and sandalwood, and that creamy feeling that generations past associate with comfort and hot water. The florals used in the heart of Kobako are not discernible; they mix and mingle and tear apart again. There is definitely rose, which mollifies the formula, and probably a segment of something white-floral for a bit of clarity (possibly a part of lily of the valley aroma chemicals to give diffusion and expansion.)

Kobako combines these elements in a naughty, playful, almost haphazard way - the masculine backdrop with the feminine florals and the aldehydes - to render a juxtaposing composition. It hides its dark corners, but it's not entirely clean either. It has the versatility to make itself wearable all year long and never bother or disappear.

It feels fresh and spicy one minute, metallic and powdery the next, with a segment of dry patchouli in the back. What is this scent, I ask you? It consistently garners some comment or other, always in a positive way. It might not be the most accepted fragrance or the most derided - it hinges on that razor-sharp axis - but it's worth sampling at the very least. Some of you will end up wearing it when you won't know what to wear for the day, I promise.

The woody element in the back and the soapiness render Bourjois' Kobako very easy on the skin. There is not enough spice, although cinnamon is mentioned. I do not detect it as such, more of a smidge of clove, which is faint. It's also quite musky, in a good way, not the screechy white musk from laundry detergents, but not dirty either. It just melds with the skin and holds on to it.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Hermes Twilly d'Hermes: fragrance review

Perfumer Christine Nagel's style could be likened to an Italian sunset. Probably has to do with her paternal Italian side. The bleeding of the colors into the sky and the transformation of dusk into darkness could be compared with her inimitable mastery at blending luminous and bright notes into chords which resonate deeper and darker as the scent develops throughout time. You're never on a simple path with her perfumes, such as the stupendous Maboussin, the balsamic wonder of Les Larmes Sacrees de Thèbes among her limited edition perfume trio for Baccarat, or the intricately sweet Si fragrance by Giorgio Armani, and of course the stupendous Theorema by Fendi, a case study in how to make a non threatening oriental fragrance.
and there's always something to discover in the process.
I find this quality quite enjoyable in her latest creation, Twilly by Hermès, the house Nagel now acts as in-house perfumer for.

double exposure photography artwork by Antonio Mora via

Although Twilly d'Hermès possesses that optimistic flair (via its fresh citrusy opening) that people find more summery than wintery, I find that the composition veers into another direction very, very quickly thanks to the brilliant combination of fresh ginger and a floralcy which is hard to pinpoint (official sources say tuberose, but it's a totally unexpected kind of tuberose). A kaleidoscope of green, floral, and even earthy and woody nuances pass before your nostrils in quick succession, as if buoyed by the golden light of a glorious afternoon full of grace when everything seems to happily melt unto itself.

Twilly d'Hermès doesn't remind me of any other fragrance I know (which is remarkable in itself) and it's playful enough and light enough to appeal to younger women without appearing condescending in the least. Nevertheless, its very memorability lies in the delicate and rather sophisticated interweaving of fresh spiciness and carnal sensuality without recalling any particular genre: is it spicy floral? is it a citrusy woody? is it floral woody musky? It's a puzzle, but a good one.

Her last two fragrances for Hermes showcase the treatment of light and delicate juxtaposition.
Eau de Rhubarbe Ecarlate is a study in this duality, whereupon the succulent yet fresh rhubard note is envelopped in high-tech musks to give a persistent buzz like a bubblebee around nectarous blossoms. And Galop, for all its deluxe price, does not smell like it's trying too hard; a bet lost by many of the luxury segment brands nowadays, who, intent on presenting something posh, lose the golden measure and load the perfume with insurmountable heaviness. Galop, on the contrary, breathes!

Twilly increases its appeal with repeated wearings, so I suggest you give it some thorough testing before pronouncing a definitive assessment. It's young and probably not too serious in intent, but we all have our heavyweights for the days we want to immerse ourselves in existential ennui I suppose.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Neela Vermeire Creations Mohur Extrait: fragrance review & draw

Mohur Eau de Parfum by Neela Vermeire Creations preceded the Extrait de Parfum version of this India-inspired rose fragrance for men and women; in fact the extract only launched last spring. But the perfume extract (extract de parfum) brings into highlight the richest in noble essences arranged in a manner that highlights their pedigree; comparing the two is like juxtaposing the silky hair of a Persian domestic cat compared to the majestic plush of the strapping Shere Khan. Mohur extrait is something of a diva! As if Mohur eau de parfum wasn't already queenly enough….but you can imagine the added magisterial effect, right?  {And now that your appetite is whetted there is a lucky draw for great Neela Vermeire Creations prizes at the end of the post, so be sure to read to the bottom!}


Rose is a fascinating, as much as a polarizing, perfume raw material due to two main reasons. For one, the natural extract can vary wildly according to the variety of rose variant used (the tea rose for instance possesses a completely different scent than that of the fruity, berry-plummy Munstead Wood), the cultivar and region (Rosa Damascena, traditionally coming from Bulgaria, is heavier and deeper than May Rose, traditionally coming from Grasse, though there are also Turkish, Moroccan and roses hailing from other regions) and the details of the method of extraction (different metals contribute their own little nuances in the end product etc). For another, rose by itself is an interesting, multi-layered oil, exhibiting facets of liqueur, wine, even pear or artichoke! Composing a fragrance based on the "Queen of flowers", as rose is affectionately named (jasmine is the King), isn't easy. This is also why most of the time there is very little, if any, natural rose essence, in perfumes. Constructing a rose bouquet with synthetics is far more elegant, in the mathematical sense of the world, allowing a precise calibration of the effect minus any distraction of off notes.


Rose is also a fragrance note that needs getting some conditioning to. At least for me it did and I know I'm not alone. Rose scents can appear too old-fashioned for their own good sometimes (not old fashioned in the glamorous vintage sense of out-of-the-mold perfumes which dare to walk on stilts, towering over everyone else, but "grannyish" sorry to say). Nevertheless everything old is new again and rose is making a comeback in perfumery as a focal note (it never went away from the secret core of most feminine fragrances anyway). Luckily for me, Neela Vermeire Creations scored Bingo with their Mohur Eau de Parfum, which manages to smell at once contemporary and nostalgic, rich in second-hand reminiscences scaterred atop its jammy, lightly powdery rose dessert from Rajastan.

It's a perfume which accompanies my softest thoughts. Now the Mohur Extrait de Parfum, rich in rose absolute, comes as the culmination of the succulence, tempting and caressing with the intensity of its purple color of the flacon; at once cool and warm, like the color purple unites the fieriness of red with the calm of blue, regal, ceremonial and mystical with its association to the Crown Chakra. Honeyed facets of the rose are folded into a batter of powdery materials (the vegetal, subdued muskiness of ambrette seeds and the iris effect of carrot seed essence) while the sandalwood note takes on creamy qualities, deftly incorporated into this rosewater-flavored barfi by Neela Vermeire Creations perfumer in charge Bertrand Duchaufour (who also gave us another rose-dusted Ottoman-palatial-leaning phantasmagoria in Traversee du Bosphore for L'Artisan Parfumeur). Although the formula for the two is the same, the Mohur extrait is overall sweeter and rather more gourmand-smelling, with less of the aldehydic top notes of the Eau de Parfum, and while I think that the eau de parfum is personally speaking a very wearable incarnation thanks to its very drape-y softness which floats around me like a golden sari, I can't deny the exquisiteness of Mohur in pure perfume. If you can afford bringing so much beauty into your everyday life without keeling over, by all means, there's no point in searching beyond this masterpiece.

Mohur (in eau de parfum and extract de parfum versions) is part of the niche fragrances issued by Neela Vermeire Créations which also includes Trayee, Bombay Bling and Ashoka. These Indian inspired perfumes, like Chants of India, draw upon the tradition, history and cultural milieu of that vast Eastern sub-continent in which Neela herself has roots. These are truly "transparent orientals", modern and wearable, and therefore it comes as no surprise that Neela commissioned Bertrand Duchaufour to compose them for her niche line. Her e-boutique can be accessed on this link.

I have 2 great prizes for 2 winners (shipping to US, EU and Canada):
Prize 1 is a 8ml spray bottle of Mohur extrait with ceramic logo disk (depicted)
Prize 2 is a Sampler coffret (2ml x 4 scents) of the 4 eaux de parfum Trayee, Mohur, Bombay Bling and Ashoka (depicted) plus Mohur extrait sample with ceramic logo disk

What you need to do:
1. Leave a comment below in this review (about the NVC scents, the review itself, roses & scents etc...)
2. Please like Neela Vermeire Creations FB page or follow her NVC Twitter handle (whichever you have is fine). 

Draw is open till Friday midnight and winners will be announced sometime during the weekend.

NB disclosure: The review/draw requirements/links are non affiliated. I was sent a sample vial by the company for reviewing purposes.


Related reading on Perfume Shrine: 
A Dozen Roses: Top Selection of Rose Fragrances & Rose-Smelling Products
Fragrance Reviews of Perfumes with Rose notes 
Neela Vermeire Creations Perfume Reviews 

Friday, January 10, 2014

Patricia de Nicolai Rose Oud: fragrance review

Couple two of the most objectionable (to me) materials, the tired by now oud perfumery base and the often stuffy, stifled rose note, and you can bet you have me checking my watch every 2 seconds like I last did when dragged to watch Star Wars episode 2 (I finally zonked out). Yet there are certain roses and certain ouds that manage to hold my interest (and there are many fragrances combing the two, so it's a demanding exercise!). Without being ecstatic, I can vouchsafe that Rose Oud  by Patricia de Nicolai is among the better ouds and simultaneously among the better roses in the market today and if you like any of those materials or the woody floral genre in general you should check it out for yourself: it's perfectly pretty with a side of fog for interest.

jenny packham/lik-usya.tumblr.com

Rose Oud does not differ in approach from the other  winter 2013-2014 "oud" release by the niche French brand, Amber Oud, in taking into stride the oudh trend and mastering it in a way that it becomes putty in dear Patricia's tender paws. The rose is woodied-up, boxed, polished, with the familiar backdrop of two standbys: patchouli and sandalwood (an Indian dream), like a beautiful blossom in a waxy sealed wooden cigar box in a land where tigers lurk and monkeys leap from beneath Bangalore ancient temples.

Delicate fruity aspects emerge out of this rose, with the underpinning of nagarmotha providing a smoky, oily facet the way oil paintings put a thick consistency even to baby pink. Nagarmotha/Cypriol is an interesting material in itself, at once earthy, grassy and smoky, with its own deep aspect that can put dusk on the daintiest girly girl stuff. Rose capitulates; what else can she do? And it's all for the better. There is no retro or potpourri vibe anywhere.

Perfectly able to be shared between the sexes, Rose Oud is another faceted briolette in the jewelry box of de Nicolai's vault, a notch less interesting than Amber Oud (which surprises with its herbal lavender character). Without breaking waves Rose Oud is perfectly nice and attractive and one can't knock that.

Notes for Patricia de Nicolai's Rose Oud:
Top: raspberry, artemisia, osmanthus
Heart: rose, lily of the valley
Base: patchouli, sandalwood, vanilla, musk, castoreum, amber, oud.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Scent on Canvas Rose Opera: fragrance review

It was the explosion of beauty in a field of saffron that captured the senses of perfumer Jórdi Fernandez. The romance of rose and saffron stamens recall the passions of Marc Anthony and Cleopatra, who infamously perfumed themselves with saffron before their romantic encounters. It was this reference which Beatrice Aguilar brought to the table to discuss further with Fernandez for the creation of this woody floral fantasy, Rose Opéra.

The scent oscillates between floral and woody-herbal with exotic woody notes (vetiver and patchouli) in the base, allied to a mossy feeling of walking through a forest with autumnal mulch on the floor. This gives a tilt into rosy chypre fragrances, but it is the cool-spicy and smoothly suede feel of the saffron essence which keeps Rose Opéra from being a full-blown retro rose and feels at home in the contemporary category of sophisticated, complex floral scents.

Cleopatra's Banquet as per Pliny's tale (wiki)

The first impression is at once fresh and floral, due to the Calabrian bergamot and the fruity notes of wild strawberries. Pepper rose, cardamom and macis (also known as the nutmeg flower) round off the mid notes of the perfume. Other ingredients are jasmine, artemisia, tagete and rose of Turkey, which unveils a mix of cedar wood, roots of vetiver with touches of patchouli and oak moss. The fragrance remains elegant, with a mysterious touch of twilight.

The new niche collection "Scent on Canvas" so far includes five perfumes created by an eclectic mix of perfumers: Jórdi Fernandez (for Rose Opéra and Noir de Mars), Shyamala Maisondieu (Ocre Doré) , Alexandra Kosinski (Brun Sicilien) and the founder, Beatrice Aguilar herself (Blanc de Paris). The collection spans five fragrance genres with nuanced olfactory work within them: the starchy, woody musk, a predetermined crowd-pleaser (Blanc de Paris); the dark musty-mossy with guts (Noir de Mars); the mysterious, coppery woody (Ocre Doré); the rosy floral with mysterious, spicy-suede tonalities (Rose Opéra) and the complex hesperidic-leathery (Brun Sicilien). Each fragrance is accompanied by a painting by a well-known painter who is inspired by the aromatics in the composition, then the painting is turned into an engraving which is used for the packaging of the fragrance: the inside of the box holds the engraving ready to be framed and hung on your walls.

Notes for Rose Opéra by Scent on Canvas:
Top: Calabrian bergamot, wild berries, jasmine, armoise, Turkish rose, tagete
Heart: Spanish saffron, cardamom, pink pepper, nutmeg flower,
Base: cyperus scariosus, Virginian cedar, Javanese vetiver, Peruvian lentisque, patchouli, oakmoss, incense.

The perfumes are priced at 130 Euros for 100 ml of perfume/eau de parfum (only Blanc de Paris is an Eau de Parfum by design, the rest are extrait de parfum). A great value sample pack of all 5 scents is offered for only 10 euros online at the official e-shop. More information: scentoncanvas.com




Thursday, February 7, 2013

Perfume Primers: On Classifying Chanel No.19 & fragrance review

Chanel in-house perfumer Jacques Polge recounts a story surrounding the creation of No.19 and its appeal. In 1970, the 87-year-old Coco Chanel (who would die the next year) was wearing Chanel No.19 when she was stopped in the street by a young man.
“Coming out of the Ritz, I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned around to see an unknown face. I was just about to tell him off in no uncertain terms, when he said to me, with an American accent: ‘Excuse me, I am with two friends who want to know the name of your perfume.’ To be stopped in the street by a man at my age, that’s not bad, is it?”
via ebay.com

I'm lucky my significant other loves Chanel No.19 on me too!

Although the feeling exuded by Chanel No.19 aesthetically approximates the one given off chypres (i.e. inedible, perfume-y, aloof, sophisticated, the antithesis of the "blonde bombshell airhead" cliche), the famous Chanel fragrance stands as exhibit A why perfumery appreciation can't be merely a subjective, aesthetic viewpoint but in many ways forms a technical matter demanding a deeper knowledge of the nuts & bolts of its craft. No.19's building blocks are not tabula rasa; in fact they belong to pillars already covered on these pages, but they merge in such a novel way that the result is something altogether unprecedented. This composition by perfumer Henri Robert, with its hint of fresh green stems cut with scissors to fit a vase, its powdery radiance and its cypress impression with lots of woody vetiver, embodies sophistication at its best.

via australianperfumejunkies.com
At the time of creation (1970, the perfume was launched in 1971), the formula contained a superior grade of Iranian galbanum with natural bergamot, lemon and ylang ylang. The heart of No.19 is built on lots of rose (15% of the formula in the vintage edition, a significant amount of which is comprised of natural rose absolute of Rose de Mai, i.e. Rosa centifolia), even more lily of the valley (20%) together with a jasmine "footnote". Up to this point nothing unheard of. The lily of the valley segment with the rest of the florals harkens back to the structure of Madame Rochas, the green feeling is analogous to Vent Vert a "green" floral perfume with its fingerprint dose of galbanum. The small inclusion of a carnation and sweet spice (pimento) "chord" recalls the great spicy florals of which L'Air du Temps is a prototype.

Three factors however make Chanel No.19 unique and unparalleled:
1) the predominance of orris however (the essence rendered from the dried rhizome of iris flower), here elevated from the supporting player status it enjoys in most perfumes
2) the overdosage of Hedione (around 25%) which diffuses the rest of the notes and gives that odd freshness and
3) the backing up with around 12% of a woody vetiver accord.
The floral elements (really, the rose) are supported and balanced by the woody notes, guiacwood, sandalwood, cedar (in the form of cedryl acetate) and the above mentioned vetiver. The bridge between the woody materials and the orris is methyl ionone, at a significant percentage. Methyl ionone itself is a molecule used to render violet-orris notes in hundreds of perfumes.

The wonderful richness of the vintage versions (in either parfum or eau de toilette) suggest that trace materials could have been used, as well as (probably) tinctures of musk, civet and ambergris, all but eradicated in the onslaught of perfumer regulations answering to animal rights concerns and allergens restrictions. Today's eau de toilette is boosting its vetiver and cedar notes over a fresher floral core, making a woody floral echoed in the denser version of the extrait de parfum, while the eau de parfum remains the rosiest of the three concentrations available. The predominance of orris means that it is an expensive formula to maintain, as natural orris price skyrocketed in the decades following No.19's creation. The main constituent of orris, the molecule irone, exists in isolation, and recent production of iris in China cut down the maturation process that orris demanded from 3-6 years to only 3 months (resulting in the Year of the Iris, a few seasons ago, when every perfume house, niche and mainstream, was issuing their own "iris perfume"). Nevertheless, the performance of the traditional natural orris is hard to emulate.

Up till this point, a clear case of a "woody floral". It is the inclusion of oakmoss and a leathery impression (rendered via isobutyl quinoline, with its sharp green fangly aspect) which complicate things and give a mossy character, recalling chypre perfumes to many perfume fans. However Chanel No.19 does NOT contain that third pillar of the true chypre, labdanum! (And certainly that would be applicable for a perfume that came out decades before the recent "nouveau chypres" which changed the territory due to technical exigencies). In fact No.19 is notable for what it does not contain as much as what it does, thanks to analytical gas chromatography work performed on it: little to no aldehydes, no synthetic musks (in the vintage version), no patchouli, no vanillin and no salicylates (more on which you can read on the link).

via ecrater.com
Its advertising image has always relied on its green character: witty, confident, a bit "sporty" even, in tweeds. "The unexpected Chanel". "The outspoken Chanel". Fronted by Christie Brinkley, Princess Mara Ruspoli, Rene Russo and other models of the time.

The comparatively small commercial appeal of Chanel No.19 -and other similarly bracing "green" fragrances- does not mean it has lost its importance in perfume lineage. A dedicated cult following has maintained its status and kept it in production. In Greece for instance, surely a very small market, Chanel No.19 has never known any shortage of availability and it enjoys pride of place on the counter at all times, contrary to many other classics, exiled on the bottom shelves of department stores. Its continuous presence (also in the sillage off women on the street) has aided a recalibration of what we consider "classy" regardless of fashions and it has influenced directly at least two perfumes: the intensely green Silences (1979) by Jacomo (which is Chanel No.19's offspring to be sure) and Beautiful by Lauder (1986). In the former the same powdery green, liquid emeralds presence is felt, with perhaps a fruity accent via cassis, while in the latter the abscence of mossy and green notes kicks it more surely into the woody floral mold.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Chanel No.19 and Heure Exquise by Goutal: A Tale of Two Sisters, Perfume Primers, Silences by Jacomo review, Iris: perfumery raw material


Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Twin Peaks: Ormonde Jayne Champaca & Calvin Klein Truth

Usually the purpose of a Twin Peaks smell-alikes article is to highlight affinities between a higher end fragrance and one which is offered at a comparative price. However it's not solely that. A discontinued or catastrophically reformulated perfume that could be "relived" through experiencing a decent substitute, no matter its provenience, is also worth mentioning. To the latter case I present a comparison between Champaca by British niche brand Ormonde Jayne, which is currently in production, and Truth by Calvin Klein, which has been discontinued a few years already.

via lucacambiaso.deviantart.com

    The reason CK Truth for women was discontinued is lost on me. It had everything going for it when it launched back in 2000; from the subtle yet lingering aroma of green bamboo shoots and comforting woody-musky notes to the sensuous advertising and the aesthetically pleasing contours of the packaging, it looked like a much better bet for the Calvin Klein brand than many others in the overpopulated line. The evocation of a woman's skin was sensuous and done with an interesting twist to eschew too obvious a musk note by Alberto Morillas, Jacques Cavallier and Thierry Wasser. It even had its own "blending kit" of 6 key essences (one of which I distinctly recall was a lilac "accord", to my confirmation of the intimacy of this innocent looking flower) to custom mix so as to produce your individual scent combination, a Truth Lush flanker in 2002 and a "sensual bedtime fragrance" flanker -smelling exactly as it name suggests- launched in 2003.

    With that in mind it's safe to say CK Truth could be classified under "undeserved commercial flops" as a marketing case study that includes other honorary mentions such as Feu d'Issey and Kenzo L'Elephant. Perhaps the fault was one of timing: By 2003 the advent of "gourmands", i.e. a subcategory of oriental fragrances heavy on the vanilla which mimicked popular desserts smells, was inescapable and the clean, serene, aromatic woody bouquet of Truth was hors categorie.

    Champaca by Ormonde Jayne on the other hand, coming from a niche firm, had a clear advantage. It is also "foody", but in the most unusual sense. In fact coming out in 2002 places it at that crossroads mentioned above. And yet, being "savory" rather than "sweet" (in the vanillic or ripe fruity sense), Champaca also pre-empts a trend that took wings by the end of the 2000s; the slightly salty, savory scents which do recall some dish or other, but less overtly than "cupcake" and "cake batter". The cult success of the perfume within the de iuoro limited perimeter of the niche fragrance market was due to its super comforting odor profile. The sweetly creamy, floral note of champaca, a yellow magnolia common in India, was married to the note of steamed basmati rice, itself a nurturing image, Earth Goddess and all.

    The inspiration came from a couple who were neighbours to Linda Pilkington when at her first London appartment; whenever they steamed rice, the building smelled cozy and like home. I only found that info later, from Linda herself, but it justified my own impression that Champaca would work great as a room fragrance, one for a cozy restaurant in off-white colors with big sofas around to immerse oneself in like giant cocoons. As the scent progresses the floral element of Champaca is diminished and it turns somewhat "greener" and a tiny bit sour, while still very very soft and non-obtrusive with the low hum that perfumer Geza Schoen is known for.

    The Ormonde Jayne seems less "skin scent" than the Klein one overall, the latter being a little tarter and with less of a foody element, but they're remarkably close. Some people notice a third simile with Fraicheur Vegetale Bamboo by Yves Rocher, but I haven't tried that one. If you have please discuss.

    Notes for Calvin Klein Truth:
    bamboo, wet woods, white peony, vanilla, white amber and sandalwood
    Notes for Ormone Jayne Champaca:
    Neroli, pink pepper, bamboo, Champaca, Basmati rice, green tea, myrrh, musk.

    Related reading on Perfume Shrine: More smell-alikes fragrances on this link.



    Friday, October 12, 2012

    Tableau de Parfums Loretta: fragrance review & draw

    You might have heard that Loretta, the newest fragrant baby arising from the collaboration of perfumer Andy Tauer & film-maker Brian Pera, is a tuberose-centered floral; and yet smelling it you realize that on face value it's inscrutable. This tuberose, although natural and vibrant, resembles nothing of the moth love & hate relationship of tuberoses of reference (like Tubereuse Criminelle by Lutens or Carnal Flower by F.Malle) with the exception of Piguet's Fracas. You have to smell it to believe it, because we're dealing with an atypical example, much like its creator is an atypical perfumer who has deservedly gained a cult status.


    The enigmatic scent: a tuberose unlike any other

    Like Fracas (and yet also unlike it) Loretta is built on a white flowers given a resolutely candied, fruity veneer that is creamy, and Tauer embraces that note with lactonic woods that remind me of some modern version of sandalwood, with the liquor like tonalities of rose that Andy likes so, plus a touch of cardamom or nutmeg. The olfactory impression of this candied, fruity floralcy is the synergy of the banana note in ylang ylang with treacly and very diffusive orange blossom along with a grape and berries touch (methyl anthranilate, the thing that made L'Heure Bleue and Narcisse Noir so compelling); this gives a sweet, rotting flesh mystery that is tantalizing in a perfume.
    This peculiar combination personally reminds me of the tuberose hiding inside the heart of Dior's original Poison from the 1980s: the "monster" inside is nothing compared to the buttressing via an overdose of musks and woods and yes, grape and berry notes. The composition is more than its description and somewhat less too, a cipher. Which nicely brings us full circle to Loretta, as this Rubik's Cube is built upon a succession of complimentary notes that defuse each other into unison. This isn't just random but relies on careful, painstaking attention from the perfumer; the common thread between grape and berry is the component also present in tuberose and ylang ylang essences.
    Although the official notes mention aldehydes, the effect here is unlike classics of the genre and serves rather as the building block of a Schiff's base (A perfumer's "tool", with some technical challenges built in as well). In plain English, don't expect a sparkling, citrusy, soapy-smelling or metallic Chanel No.5, YSL Rive Gauche or Madame Rochas nuance here; Loretta is in a class of its own.

    Comparison with Miriam 

    Contrary to Tableau de Parfums Miriam, with its retro soapy, aldehydic halo ~to correspond with the silvery sheen of the protagonist Anne Magnuson, and her reticent, elegant aura~ the Loretta fragrance is a young and contemporary creature, a cleaning lady with sexual fantasies enacted behind closed doors; we're talking about a cleaning lady with a supreme taste in perfume, apparently! Loretta is hard to miss (it radiates and lasts very well, like all Tauer perfumes) and very difficult not to fall in love with, even for tuberose phobics.



    The where, the how, the when, the how much

    Tableau de Parfums is an ongoing collaboration between Tauer and filmmaker Brian Pera and Loretta is its latest installment, after the Miriam fragrance. The Tableau perfumes are portraits inspired by the shorts of Pera’s ongoing film series, Woman’s Picture (You can find out everything about the whole thing on www.evelynavenue.com).

    The Loretta fragrance includes fragrant notes of tuberose absolute, aldehydes, rose absolute, orange blossom and woods.

    For those in LA, the Scent Bar will be holding a launch party for the fragrance for the official launch on October 19th.
    Loretta in the Tableau de Parfums series will be available in 50 ml Eau de Parfum concentration, packaged with a DVD and film poster ($160) or in a 7 ml Travel spray ($40) at evelynavenue.com and select stockists.

     Andy below presents Loretta in the Pitti exhibition in Florence via the Basenotes/Youtube.

     

    You can also peek at an older interview of Tauer and Pera on FragranceScout.

    For our readers, I have 5 deluxe samples of the new Loretta perfume to give away. Just enter a comment and you're eligible. Draw is open till Monday Oct 15th midnight. Draw is now closed, thank you for participating!

     In the interests of disclosure I was sent samples for the giveaway by the perfumer himself

    Friday, September 14, 2012

    Ramon Monegal Impossible Iris: fragrance review

    Impossible Iris is like those beautiful raven-haired girls with big, sincere eyes that seem to engulf you and creamy, gorgeous skin that shines with the sheen of mother-of-pearl (like Liv Tyler or Anne Hathaway to bring modern examples); there's both a wholesome appeal (in the sense of "non-plastic") and a retro elegance to it all (in the sense their beauty ideal defies tanned, scrubbed, peroxided "nowness").

    Iris can be like that, when excellent, with the added artistic bonus of a delectable melancholia that negates all the "shiny happy people" silliness that is pack and parcel of the "plastic" and "nowness" mantra. But iris can also be a fragrance note that can render itself rather too prissy and difficult for its own good; too many times it can be too starchy and earthy-raw (smelling like boiled carrots or turnips) or it can become too dusty or too creepy cold like the tomb (and there's no better reference than the chilly Iris Silver Mist by Lutens if you're after that sort of effect). Perhaps this is why the easiest, most popular iris on the market is Infusion d'Iris by Prada, a smashing best-seller and a modern classic; no guesswork there, the fragrance isn't an iris per se as the name would suggest, it's a sweet woody incense built on benzoin! Other times iris can be tilted into violet-heavy territory (with whom iris shares ionones, molecules with a powdery, dirt/earth feel) and land into Parfums Lingerie, a totally different sort of aesthetic effect, makeup reminiscent rather than upturned garden dirt.

    Personally, I like irises, especially woody ones, such as Bois d'Iris by The Different Company and the stupendous Chanel No.19, so testing Impossible Iris wasn't a challenge by any means. Still, it exceeded expectations and has found itself firmly in my perfume rotation which is something when you take into account the jadedness of a seasoned collector.

    Ramón Monegal went neither way between chilly or earthy for Impossible Iris, opting for an iris fragrance that is recognizably iris, yet projects with a delicate, mimosa-laced/heather hint of sweetness under the metallic opening; clean, elegant, slightly soapy fresh and very appealing! It's an iris to put you in a good mood, for a change, with subtle floralcy and woodiness in equal measure, if that was possible, with all the prerequisites to make you fall in love with it just as easily as imagining Iris as a girl's name. It stands as the perfect metallic/woody iris to encapsulate and recapitulate all we have come to expect from a prime iris fragrance; there is the delicate, shy beginning with the cool touch, then comes the touch of wooly mimosa with its hint of warmth to smile into the proceedings, while the quiet, bookish woody tonality of the aftermath with its pencil shavings nuance is enough to consolidate it among the richer in nuance irises.

    Ramón Monegal has that rare talent: he has taken "difficult" notes (iris, leather as in Mon Cuir, patchouli, as in Mon Patchouly) and rendered editions that transcend the rougher aspects into smoothing them into compliance, making them melt with pleasure under the sprayer and onto the skin...
    Gaia, The Non Blonde, found it more floral in the beginning than I did, but we both loved it all the same.

    I was impressed with the sillage (it's a perceptible iris that will get you comments, the positive kind) and with its tenacity and I find that though delicate and graceful, it can also be worn by men easily, thanks to its woody background and its slight tinge of fruitiness that adds just enough tart elements in the formula.


    Notes for Impossible Iris by Ramon Monegal: Italian iris, Egyptian cassiopiae, framboise, ylang-ylang, Egyptian jasmine, Virginia cedarwood

    Impossible Iris is available as Eau de Parfum in a beautiful inkwell bottle of 50ml at Luckyscent.

    picture of Liv Tyler via rsmccain.blogspot.com

    Tuesday, July 31, 2012

    Guerlain Les Voyages Olfactives 05 Shanghai: new fragrance

    Guerlain already boasts 4 fragrances in the boutique collection "Une ville, un parfum": the original three, Paris, Moscou, New York and 2011's entry London 04. This year sees a new launch in the city fragrances line, inspired by the vast Chinese culture (and with an eye on its untapped market, no doubt).

    The new perfume, 5th in the Guerlain series "Les Voyages Olfactives" (Olfactory Journeys), is dedicated to Shanghai, a Chinese metropolis which was also the background on which the venerable Vetiver pour Elle sprang from (hence its duty-free original distribution).

    Guerlain Shanghai is composed by in-house perfumer Thierry Wasser and is noted for its freshness and delicacy which are the hallmarks of the collection.

    Guerlain Shanghai is a woody floral scent comprising fragrant notes of anise, orange blossom, almond, cardamom, ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, mimosa, cedarwood, patchouli, vanilla and sandalwood.

    The bottle is designed by the legendary designer Serge Mansau depicting Shanghai's famous Oriental Pearl Radio & TV Tower.
    The new Guerlain fragrance will be available in 100 ml in Eau de Parfum concentration.

    Guerlain Shanghai is a woody floral scent comprising fragrant notes of anise, orange blossom, almond, cardamom, ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, mimosa, cedarwood, patchouli, vanilla and sandalwood. The bottle is designed by the legendary designer Serge Mansau depicting Shanghai's famous Oriental Pearl Radio & TV Tower. The new Guerlain will be available in 75 ml in Eau de Parfum concentration.

     info via mrguerlain with many thanks for his dedication

    Tuesday, June 19, 2012

    Guerlain Rose Nacree du Desert: fragrance review

    Arabian perfumery is no stranger to the amorous coupling of rose with oud or saffron. Guerlain is no stranger to opulent florals with woody underpinnings highlighting their thorny beauty (just witness Nahema, a lush fruity rose and Rose Barbare, a chyprish, woody one). Imagining the two directions -Arabian & Guerlain- combined gives you an idea about how Rose Nacrée du Désert smells like. But that is only the beginning...


    According to perfumer Thierry Wasser, Rose Nacrée du Désert is a mysterious fragrance one can lose their heart to, thanks to its very formula. "Mystery often comes from intense and deep notes such as patchouli or oakmoss. Chypre perfumes also can reveal a mysterious character because one can perceive notes which are sometimes woody, sometimes ambery or floral. And of course the more a fragrance makes us dream of far away lands, the more it is laden with mystery too!" This is why Wasser reveals he searched for a Persian rose that was difficult to harness and rendered even more cryptic thanks to its alchemical alliance to woody notes, such as oud and patchouli.

    Rose and oud are a trend we're going to be seeing a LOT of in the coming season. Already there are quite a few perfumes with the exact combination (the ubiquitousness of oud notwithstanding), such as those below, as well as Midnight Oud (Juliette has a Gun), Rose Oud (Kilian), Rose d'Arabie (Armani), Mirroir des Voluptés (Thierry Mugler) or Portrait of a Lady (F.Malle) and we're going to witness even more.  Fine by me, as this gothic style of rose is simpatico to my sensibilities (I told you I had trouble with liking too prim or Victorian roses, didn't I? This is why the rose-patchouli dewy woodiness of Voleur de Roses is among my favorite rose fragrances.)

    from L to R: Oud Ispahan (Dior, 2012), Velvet Rose & Oud (Jo Malone, 2012), Rose Nacrée du Désert (Guerlain, 2012), Al Buraq, by Al Haramain.

    Arguably therefore the less "original" in the trio (vaguely reminiscent of Amouage Epic for Women for its treatment of rose and oud) Rose Nacrée du Désert,  Guerlain's take at the Damask rose and oud combination, is at once dusky and velvety, gothic, dusty and with a beautiful sheen like hammered gold. The sweetness is pervading, even more than the previous Déserts d'Orient examples, with nuances of loukhoum rosewater and copra powder enrobing the yummy delicacy.
    The mouth-watering gourmand quality is very Guerlain; rose and sugar are eager bedfellows with passionate results. The woodiness of patchouli and oud are brimming with promises of sensuous adventures in a land of buried treasures in the sand; full of mystery, full of languor.




    The Guerlain perfume bottles of Les Deserts d'Orient are adorned with Arab-cript calligraphy down one side, the French names down the other side. They are the tall, architectural style of the collection L'Art et la Matière with the antique gold overlay on the sides holding 75ml of perfume. The concentration of the fragrances is Eau de Parfum for tenacity. Prices are set for 190euros/AED990 per bottle. The perfume is available exclusive in the UAE and the Guerlain flagship store. Also via the connections of Wim in Parfumerie Place Vendome in Brussels.

    still from Pretty in Pink by John Hughes starring Molly Ringwald via jbtaylor.typepad.com/
    pic of bottles of various brands in middle by parfums-tendances-inspirations.com

    Thursday, January 26, 2012

    Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist: fragrance review

    Iris Silver Mist clearly isn't for everyone. Balls to the wall iris, carrot dirt rootiness, bread sourdough and raw potato starch are attached to every drop of this crepuscular, bellowing Lutensian opus, turning urban life into a gothic tale where the heroine is carried away dead in a grand duc. Iris Silver Mist is unsettingly unusual as if you looked into the abyss once and now the abyss is looking at you. How can you not love it?

    In a rare dicrepancy with the tenure to follow of Chris Sheldrake at the helm of perfume development at the Salons du Palais Royal Serge Lutens perfumes, perfumer Maurice Roucel was instructed to compose an iris fragrance to eclipse all others.
    The year was 1994 and Iris Silver Mist came out on the skies like Phaethon to cast a prolonged, melancholic shadow over mortals. But the perfume is in discrepancy with the Lutensian style up to a point as well; eschewing the opulent orientalia of dried fruits, resins and creamy notes, it goes for a wonderfully weird effect that is loud even though it appears to be the silent type; a sort of Schopenhauer being recited off the rooftops, for modern Emos romanticizing depression.
    Years later Lutens softened the pitch and caressed the iris into a greener, silky hush in his enigmatically sensuous Bas de Soie fragrance.


    The power of the fragrance is deceptive: you'd think that iris is a shy, pale note that rings metallic and sits meekly at its corner, but no. Orris absolute (the product from the iris rhizome) can run the gamut from floral to woody to gourmand to powdery smelling.
    Iris Silver Mist beats with a thunder drum, thick as fog you'd need to cut through with a knife; powdery and cooly rooty, eating away every other scent it co-habitates with, be it skin, potion or foe.

    Roucel used not only orris rhizome but also Irival (or orris floraline), a nitrile-containing fragrance compound (a perfumer's base, produced by International Flavors & Fragrances) with a stentorian voice heard over the buzz of common routine; coupled with the scimitar of galbanum, its bitter green resinous facet boosting the feel of the first hour on the skin, and a tiny hint of carnation, iris becomes truly sinister with a yeasty quality about it. The familiar cedar base of Lutens is given an extra austere profile in Iris Silver Mist, with the subdued, cooling woody backdrop of vetiver and the prolonged powderiness of musk, almost a sigh through blueish lips.

    Be aware that the Irival base is moderately skin sensitising; Iris Silver Mist, alongside the equally lovely Iris Gris by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier, have been the only two perfumes to ever give me a topical itch and redness. Use on clothes preferably.

    Iris Silver Mist is a Paris exclusive, circulating in the uniform bell-shaped bottles of the exclusive line (75ml).
    The photo depicts the limited edition bell jar (flacon de table) of Iris Silver Mist, showing the beating heart and veins of iris...

    "Watching Alice rise year after year
    Up in her palace, she's captive there"





    photo Ron Reeder "Death and the Maiden V4" via pcnw.org

    Tuesday, July 19, 2011

    Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet: fragrance review & draw

    "Sometimes he frets his instrument with the back of a kitchen knife or even a metal lipstick holder, giving it the clangy virility of the primitive country blues men".  This descriptor for Bob Dylan's style fits the newest Serge Lutens creation to a T: clangy, virile in a rugged way, disruptive, angry and unusual are all characteristics of Vitriol d'Oeillet (meaning vitriol of carnation); an uncharacteristic carnation fragrance which breaks the mould of old fashioned powdery florals of the start of the 20th century, offering a futurist angry woody floral. In Vitriol d'Oeillet Lutens alludes to carnation via intense, corosive pepper and lily and invites us to think of carnations of red, feisty under the intense sun of Provence, and at the same time of the London fog hiding a gentleman killer à la Jack the Ripper, who sports a carnation in his buttonhole.

    There's something to be said about 19th century and its fixation with death & violence, a kind of violence beyond the funereal association so many people have with carnations. The ethereally romantic image of the era gets shattered when we read Honoré de Balzac for instance: Madame Cibot is a widow twice-over, when her husband Rémonencq accidentally consumes the chalice of vitriol he was intending for his wife (in Cousin Pons)...Oil of vitriol features in many a 19th novella, not just Balzac.
    Two especially memorable scenes have the caustic sulphuric acid unceremoniously thrown on a face (the acid works by releasing acids from their salts, i.e.sulphides); namely in George Gissing's The Nether World (1889) and Robert Louis Stevenson's The Ebb-Tide (1894). Perhaps what inspired those writers into using vitriol in fiction scene stealers as an aussault (an aussault to injustice, poverty and degradation), as well as a metonym for realism (a late 19th century claim to the explosive!), is what inspired Lutens himself; a desire to break loose with preconceptions about how a carnation fragrance should be: pretty, prim, feminine, dainty? Vitriol d'Oeillet is nothing of the sort!
    But there's something to be said about Vitriol being in tune with Moorish sensibilities too, of which Lutens has long been an accolyte. Blue vitriol is copper (Cu), green vitriol is iron (Fe), and white vitriol is zinc (Zn), all Hermetic references for the initiated. Sulphuric acid (historically known as 'oil of vitriol') was formerly prepared from green vitriol in a ritual that crossed into the alchemical. The Moors sold vitriol preparations as an antiseptic panaceia. There's this thing in Shi'ism called ta'wil, it's this idea where "you take anything back to its root significance, its original self". A cleanse going for the bone!

    On the other hand, in late 19th century carnations were innocent, popular buttonhole flowers; Oscar Wilde was said to sport one and companies producing such fragrances were a dime a dozen, rendering the carnation soliflore a dominating fragrance trend of the Victorian era. The dandified character of carnation scents has persisted: from old-image Floris Malmaison to Roger &Gallet's ever popular ~but ultimately discontinued~ Blue Carnation all the way to modern-day retro Dianthus by Etro.

    The opening of Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet is sharp, caustic as befits the name though not smelling of sulphur, without the dense powdery note that surrounds the rich floral heart of retro carnations such as Caron's Bellodgia. After all, clove, the main spicy component in creating a carnation accord in perfumery, is called clou de girofle in French, same as a pointy "nail". But despite the disruptive nails on a chalkboard of the opening of the new Lutens fragrance, the progression of Vitriol d'Oeillet softens gradually; much like Tubéreuse Criminelle hides a silken polished floral embrace beneath the mentholated stage fright. In Vitriol d'Oeillet's case Serge hides the heart of a lush lily inside the spicy mantle. Indeed it is more of a lily than a carnation fragrance, as per the usual interpretation of carnation in perfumery.

    The spices almost strangle the lily notes under cruel fingers: black pepper, pimento, nutmeg, cayenne pepper, pink pepper with its rosy hue, paprika and clove; in Serge Noire and Louve the spices serve as a panoramic "lift" to the other notes, here they reinforce what was a hint in the flower. The woody backdrop of cedar is softening the base, but lovers of Serge's and Sheldrake's candied-fruit-compote-in-a-cedar-bowl will not find the sweet oriental they have grown to expect. Vitriol d'Oeillet is resolutely spicy, rendered in woody floral tonalities that only slightly turn powdery towards the very end.

    To give perfume comparisons: If you have always found Secret Mélange, from Les Caprices du Dandy collection by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier (a fragrance which dared to mix cold spices and flowers and harmonize the accord with warm woods) quite intriguing, you have good chances of liking the jarring nature of Vitriol d'Oeillet. So might lovers of Caron's Poivre (which is vastly superior nevertheless) or of the dark, suffused imagescape of Garofano by Lorenzo Villoresi and E.Lauder's intense Spellbound. If you were looking for a classic, dense, feminine carnation floral or a minimal contemporary treatment oif the note such as in Oeillet Sauvage by L'Artisan Parfumeur, you might be scared by this violent yet diaphanous offering.

    Oddly for the actual formula, since it's chartreuse liqueur which is infused with carnation petals and alchemically it is green vitriol which hides the greatest power, Vitriol d'Oeillet if of a greyish-lilac tint which looks someplace between funereal and alluringly gothic-romantic. The sillage is well-behaved, indeed subtle, perhaps because vitriol derives from the Latin vitrium, meaning glass, therefore denoting a certain transparency and lightness. Vitriol d'Oeillet is androgynous with great lasting power that seems to grow in depth, becoming a little bit sweeter and woodier as time passes.

    Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet belongs to the export line, available at select stockists around the world and at the official Lutens site, 95euros for 50ml of Eau de Parfum. The limited edition engraved bottles depicted cost much more.

    A generous-sized decant is available for one lucky reader. Draw is now closed, thank you!

    What is it you find intriguing about the concept?

    Tuesday, April 19, 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
    .

    Thursday, December 3, 2009

    Hilde Soliani Ciocospezissimo & Ciocorosissimo: fragrance reviews

    It was with delight that I had introduced perfume audiences outside Italy to the cosmos of Hilde Soliani niche Italian scents and it is with immense joy that I can continue to feed your appetite for her pleasing wares: Her two latest fragrances, Ciocospezissimo and Ciocorosissimo, which we have the exclusive preview of here on Perfume Shrine, are part of her Profumo e Gusto in Libertà lineup [click for more reviews]. They're totally scrumptious and every lover of good gourmands should try to get hold of samples.

    The names are Italian superlatives of their respective chords: chocolate and spice for Ciocospezissimo, chocolate and rose for Ciocorosissimo and have been inspired by Hilde's love for Italian gelato (which comes in the most sophisticated flavours imaginable, such as Boccalone Prosciutto or Carrot Cake).

    Ciocospezissimo starts with a whirlwind of a delicious gingery zing which twirls around the note of dry cocoa. The two are perceptible at all times, in reality however the peppery bright buzz is really basil, that green curly-looking little bushy herb that we usually use in our pasta with pesto al Genovese. Or with our lime sorbet. In perfumery basil is often wrapped around grapefuit, complimenting and contrasting the sulfur elements of the citrus peel aroma. Well, guess what, like another green hot-cool herb, mint(I bet it would really go well after a decadent bath in Mint Chocolate bath), basil has the green pepperiness that goes really well with chocolate. Generally chocolate performs well with peppery-biting stuff, for instance try milk chocolate with black peppercorns, it's utterly magnificent! In that vein people with a desire to find a little zing, a little edge in their chocolate will find Ciocospezissimo easy to like and easy to wear.

    Ciocorosissimo took me by total surprise. I usually don't like obvious roses in fragrances because they can evoke too closely for comfort those aged, wilted pot-pouris that hide into really old aunts' closets or the cleansers that are put besides the Porcelain Goddess...Not exactly my idea of sexy! And we've mentioned this here before. But in Ciocorosissimo, Hilde Soliani had clear instructions which paid off: The rose is delicious, rich, melodious; three varieties from Bulgaria, Morocco and England conspire along with pure absolute of cocoa and toasted chocolate to produce a mouth-watering yet also fresh scent! If I had to put a classification on it I'd opt for woody floral, never mind the gourmand associations of chocolate.
    The process of creation is rather fascinating: The finished perfume is kept in an oak barrel, just like a good wine, so it gains in complexity, mingling with that lovely woody aroma and it comes out unfiltered and ready to seduce you. like it did to me. The ritual of picking fresh rose petals from the garden, dusting them with cocoa from Indonesia and then using them in desserts is finding its apotheosis in this trully lovely fragrance. The notes pop in and out, always discernible, yet at the same time in synergy, like those changeant fabrics which take on a different hue where the light hits them. If you like those patchouli-shaded roses like Voleur de Roses or Lady Vengeance, don't miss a chance to try Ciocorosissimo as well.

    Both Ciocospezissimo and Ciocorosissimo come in Eau de Parfum concentration with 10% essence and they last quite well. Available through Lyckyscent soon they were launched on the 26th of November at the Suendhaft Press Conference event.

    Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Hilde Soliani reviews (click the links below):
    1) Il Mio Daisy/Ti Amo Line (Tulipano, Iris, Margerita, Anemone, Ortensia),
    2) Teatro Olfactiva line (Bell'Antonio, Vecchi Rosetti, Stecca, Mangiamo dopo Teatro, Sipario),
    3)Acquiilsssssima, Doolciiisssimo, Freschiiissimo, Saaaliiisssiimo.

    Pic via sexylingerie10/photobucket.
    In the interests of ful disclosure I gained access to two samples via the manufacturer<./span>.

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