Spicy stuff is usually reserved for wintertime because it so often appears in heavier compositions such as spicy oriental fragrances, a genre many of us love but that people around us find a bit retro and therefore not always pleasant. Rejoice then for a spicy citrus and oriental musk blend from a very worthwhile niche company that has retained its integrity and pedigree in an era of easy cash grab.
1826 by Histoires de Parfums is inspired by Eugénie de Montijo, the last French empress who was born in Granada, the jewel of Andalusia.
photo Deborah Turbeville - Models in Valentino, VOGUE Italia borrowed via Pinterest
A sparkling beauty, her seductive nature and temperamental elegance delighted Napoleon the Third. It was for her that Guerlain made to measure his famous Eau de Cologne Imperiale Guerlain. It was those famous historical people, like her, as well as characters from novels, that inspired the first collection by venerable French niche brand Histoires de Parfums, the brainchild of Gerarl Ghislain.
Powdery violet is allied to spicy cinnamon and piquant ginger notes in the heart of 1826, but not before this is first refreshed with a rush of hesperidia—happy and aromatic, almost aggressive citrus notes that tumble out of the bottle in song. A honeyed ambience like a ripe orchard is present, they're never sour or sharp. Then the synergy with the prolonged musky drydown makes it appear woody, orientalised, dry, yet restrained. There is the elegance of sipping earl grey tea while reading an old book with violets dried inside its pages by the window overlooking a beautiful citrus grove...
Beautifully balanced, 1826 by Histoires de Parfums always welcome in any season, but especially when the weather warms up.
Launch date: 2001
The older bottles have a retro label with a crest and a chiseled bronze-gold cap. The newer bottles are sparse with a rectangle shaped bottle that is visually cut in half, thus making the cap seem off, and they fit into their boxes like in a cardboard drawer, as if meant to display unto the shelves of a library. Very cute idea!
The perfumer behind 1826 by Histoires de Parfums is Sylvie Jourdet.
Top notes are Tangerine and Bergamot; middle notes are Violet, White Flowers, Cinnamon and Ginger; base notes are Patchouli, Amber, Woody Notes, Incense, Musk and Vanilla.
In January 2022, Ex Nihilo introduced a new women's fragrance, Iris Porcelana. The inspiration for its creation was fine porcelain that came to Europe from the East, as well as a perfume material called Pallida iris.
The perfumer is Dalia Izem (of Givaudan), a young perfumer from Dubai. The fragrance joined the main collection of the brand named Initiale, which already includes bestsellers such as Fleur Narcotique and Lust in Paradise and is therefore a useful gauge of how brands perceive materials and concepts.
The iris one is very popular, having become almost synonymous with a delicate feminity that is so sought after by many, many women nowadays. Alongside violet, it's often at the core of "powdery fragrances." Notes like milk, vanilla, iris, ambrette seeds, cashmere woods, musk, "cotton," and soap also define a genre of fragrances that create a sense of comfort and serenity, very sought after during and since the pandemic.
Truth is, iris "notes" are routinely produced through less expensive methods. But this is neither here nor there; their magic happens not because of the cost itself, but of the perceived value.It's all a game of smoke-and-mirrors! But it works. It definitely works.
In Iris Porcelana by Ex Nihilo, the iris is rendered lightly metallic, with an eau de vie touch, and then fanned on something totally unexpected: Hazelnuts! The star ingredient appears thanks to a potent aromachemical in several creations in recent years. Being safe for even food use (GRAS), it is exploited with gay abandon in perfumery, exactly because it is not going to be on the chopping block of potential allergens in the near future.
From the intense praline in Angel Muse by Mugler to Amouage Guidance (a fragrance which I reviewed here and which takes Filbertone to the next level by overdosing), this trend shows no signs of abating: Devotion Intense, Patchouli Noisette, Valentino Uomo, English Oak & Hazelnut (Jo Malone), Aimez moi comme je suis (Caron), Joop! Homme Eau de Parfum, several boutique fragrances in the Trussardi line, Vetiver Gris, and even La Vie est Belle L'eau de parfum Intense.
The precursor in the combination of Iris Porcelana is probably Praliné de Santal by innovative niche creator Pierre Guillaume. He coupled the sandalwood milkiness with the hazelnut savory facets and created an atypical fragrance that fascinates. And of course the pioneer was Mechant Loup by L'artisan Parfumeur as far back (in relative terms of contemporary perfumery) in 1997!
Amber Elixir by Oriflame remains very popular after many years and the line is populated with flankers (a couple of which are especially memorable). What makes it so special?
It is hard to do an amber fragrance which, firstly, doesn't recall a hundred others, and, secondly, is not heavy and cloying but instead fit for all seasons and occasions.
Perfumer Vincent Schaller worked this classic Oriflame best-seller in 2007, and it has been beloved ever since due to its versatility and elegance.
Working a light almond-heliotrope facet under the vanillic labdanum chord of amber perfumes, the scent of Oriflame Amber Elixir becomes creamy, lightly powdery, and soft like a hug from a loved one. It is like a caress rather than a warm stilting hug that crashes you and therefore it never becomes heavy or -that word people use- cloying. A malady of some other ambers, to be sure. This is comforting and a sort of diet-amber if I may say so. Which is perfect really, for my personal taste, at least.
It's suitable for all seasons except very hot summers and can lend a contemporary touch of femininity to all ages.
Available in 50 ml for €39 at the moment on the official Oriflame website.
I am not entirely convinced that AFFINISSENCE's plan of marketing (and that of creation?) succeeds in creating seamless canvases of hues, with their professed aim of monochromatic chasms between top and base notes. Supposedly they do not mesh programmatically, yet they have to in the end, otherwise they'd smell flat and off, which they emphatically do not. The collections are divided into Notes de Fond (base notes), Notes de Coeur (heart notes) and Notes de Tête (top notes).
Vanille Benjoin is part of the Notes de Fond collection.
It's important to note the timeline of the brand, as I'm sensing it began as something less complicated.
AFFINESSENCE began as a niche French brand, launched in 2015 with the first four fragrances (Cedre Iris, Patchouli Oud, Santal Basmati, and Vanille Benjoin) followed by Cuir Curcuma and Musc Amber Gris in 2017. The collection was unique then, by the base notes concept of the owner, Sophie Bruneau, who decided to translate her passion for intense, rich, and long-lasting fragrances, and especially for their deep base note accords, as the leading ingredients in her line. So naturally, no pun intended, the following collections were undertaken as points of departure when the intended base note materials had been explored.
The brand described Vanille Benjoin in the following words:
"In order to present this extraordinary "marriage" of ingredients Affinessence combines two types of vanilla (Tahitian vanilla absolute with the intense scent of leather and the sweet aromas of Madagascan vanilla absolute). This blend is combined with the so-called alter-ego, Siamese benzoin, a fragrant resin originating from Laos which is highly respected for its balmy, almond-like shades. For the strong, irresistible trail, scents of ambroxan, tonka, Moroccan and Chinese cedar were used, placing benzoin and vanilla in the transcendent, providing amazing strength."
Despite it being a vanilla it's one that references a unisex scent that was originally launched for...men. So whatever you sex, feel safe to explore this one.
Vanille Benjoin was developed by perfumer Corine Cachen. She must have been influenced by the style of Menardo, especially for Bvlgari Black from 1999, now discontinued. Or following the skeleton of this leather-powdery tension (which is also evident in the classic Habanita, especially in the 1980s versions and a teeny tiny part only in Bois Farine by Jean Claude Ellena - minus the peanut butter note in that one!)
Side by side with Bvlgari Black the Affinissence scent projects with an initially sharper top note, which smells a little higher in pitch. It then softens into the heliotrope-suede-almond-vanilla tonalities that we're associating with the flou accord of hazy dark clouds of a smoky atmosphere somewhere warm and cosy. It's that musky vanilla that people who like mystery and intrigue in their perfumes most appreciate.
Whether it may fulfil the longing in the hearts of those missing Bvlgari Black remains to be seen whilst trying it out for yourselves and living with Vanille Benjoin Affinessence for a short while, so samples are highly recommended.
Although Assenzio Aqua di Profumo by Italian pharmacist-inspired brand L' Erbolario is an older scent, I only truly discovered it last year, testing it again and again, and contemplating a full bottle of my own for the coming months.
The Italian name means absinth and it effortlessly recalls ringlets of fragrant smoke rising from a censer into the ethers, which is totally fitting for days of recollection and pensiveness, since incense is usually burnt into a censer and left to rise. Frankincense has a citrusy top note and this is beautifully fanned out in Assenzio, where the citrus and herbal part (bitterish artemisia and wormwood) is the introduction to the hazy, billowy development.
Perfume lovers have beautiful and zen-quality words to say about it. Silver Hiccup writes in Fragrantica, "Assenzio is ultimately a very gentle, flowy scent, like a fluffy cloud that envelops you. I can admit that for me, it may carry a sense of melancholy." Cerise Noir writes, "I love this powdery, herbal sweetness. Makes me feel so clean and calm." Abraham 7 says, "An ancient, green, relaxing charm."
Others, like Kioflare are mixed: "The opening is really quite masculine, astringent and not particularly pleasant [...] reminds me in a sense of Penhaligon's Blenheim Bouquet, which I was not particularly fond of. This goes on for about 15-20 min. The drydown showcases its truly marvellous and gentle side. That is the real unisex herbal talcum [...] becomes a bit chalky sweet, the herbs shine through, but they leave a gentle and warm impression, like a green powdery caress."
Although Assenzio has been compared to Felce Azzura, the famous shower gel and dusting powder products from Italy, another South-eastern European reference that is often conflated with incense, due to the dry soapy-piney ambience, it is not a replication of that (admittedly amazing) scent. But it's worth trying all the same, because the herbal qualities will appeal to lovers of the Italian classic of grooming all the same.
Best of all? This quiet scent has an array of ancillary products to enjoy from morning till bed-time... Bliss.
NB. The Aqua di Profumo concentration is the equivalent of Eau de Toilette.
Official notes for Assenzio by L' Erbolario:
Top notes are Wormwood, Amalfi Lemon and Orange. Middle notes are Artemisia, Coriander, Lavender and Cardamom. Base notes are Musk, Carnation, Geranium, Patchouli, Benzoin and Cedar.
It's been ages since I submitted an At the Moment column, but I've been meaning to refresh this as a mental exercise in much needed times. So without further ado, some of my recent obsessions. Share yours too (whichever you want) in the comments below!
In the troubled times we're living in there is a precarious balance to keep between being flummoxed by doom scrolling and detaching one's self from the ongoing societal and political process. I try to tread carefully.
I have revisited some books like Erotica by Anais Nin, always a safe space in times of world crisis, and Serotonin by Michel Houellebecq, its diurnal direct opposite. In my bucket list for January there are some waiting for me to catch a few uninterrupted hours to finish or to begin, including Sarah Bernand by Françoise Sagan and The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt.
SCENTING
This past fall I had been wearing (and testing) a roaster of fragrances niche and mainstream, with an emphasis on diversifying and appreciating nuance.
I chose Ambre Royal by Ormonde Jayne, first. Variations on a theme, like Bach's motif that unfolds from gavotte and sarabande to passacaglia and from there to fugue, are in no other "note" more numerous than in amber. The so-called ambergris or amber. Whatever anyone means (and it doesn't really matter to break it down technically at this point), the traditional recipe of the 19th century characterizes a whole class of perfumes named amber, ambre, ambra... In this case, with Ormonde Jayne's Ambre Royal, we have a solid construction with attractive warm powders and a salty nuance coming from the ocean.
L'Heure Bleue by Guerlain in Eau de Toilette is another choice. I personally find L'Heure Bleue to be a quiet, soft fragrance, almost shy and dreamy, with a bittersweet air that is not exactly stereotypical in particular (though it certainly does not resemble the sweetness of modern women's perfumes on the shelves) with plenty of powdery fluffy heliotrope. Some scents in this genre are reminiscent of cherry pie or even powdered lilac, but not L'Heure Bleue.
Dionysian Orgy, the fragrance by The Greek Perfumer, is similarly inviting to a painting by Caravaggio with a youth savoring a goblet of wine amidst a luscious dinner party. The composition is fruity-ambery with spicy accents that have a succulent effect. The ambience of the classic recipe for the mellis accord, which accounts for spicy oriental formulas, is present at the very heart; it evokes the best part of Cinnabar, Opium, and Youth Dew. And last but not least,
Putain de Palaces by Etat Libre d' Orange. Spare a thought for those who expect a "whore's perfume" to be rich in heavy, oriental notes full of hints and animal scents that refer to instincts. They will be quite surprised. We are dealing with a clear descendant of the Tresor skeleton, the classic, with-a-décolleté accord of rose, fluffy peach, and synthetic notes of violets and clean musk - which is perfectly in line with the choice of this particular perfume as the scent of strippers in posh clubs of other decades. Something strong, something clean, something ladylike, so as to not rouse suspicions in the minds of the clients' wives upon their return home. The fragrance is a bit powdery in the general sense of cosmetic products (lipstick, face make-up)
For the holidays 2024-2025 I drenched myself with the spectacularly chic Splendida Iris d' Or by Bvlgari, a precious gift from a friend. It is the recalibration of their criminally discontinued Bvlgari pour Femme and feels like the softest pashmina shawl on the shoulders and decolletage.
I will devote a separate post on my newer scented discoveries to usher forth 2025, but feel free to add yours.
I pledge conscious fashion choices for my 2025 bucket list. Not sure it will always be a choice that can be materialised, since it requires more time and distance spent than I'm usually willing to devote, but we have globally arrived at a time when every little thing matters. I intend to recycle some of my older clothes into newer schemes and styling and update with great quality accessories as always. Heirlooms, silk scarves, and actual leather handbags that have withstood the floods of time need not be crushed at the back of the closet.
LISTENING
I discovered La Chapelle Musique during the holidays thanks to their Noel recordings and was charmed. Here they are for your inspection (and they have lots of material on their channel).
I have increasingly been using just liquid black liner on my lash line, plus a touch of mascara on my upper lashes, and substituted posh brands for high-street alternatives for the products to do the job. My current duo is Calligraph Pro Matt Liner Waterproof by Catrice and The False Lashes Mascara by Essence. They perform great, staying put until I take them off myself and apart from not budging they also not sting in the eyes.
On the contrary I have been using posh lipsticks on my lips and intend to continue doing so this year. The Tom Ford lipsticks may suffer from a somewhat vulgarised aesthetic, as is customary to the sex sells adage supporting some brands, but the quality is unquestionable. They melt like butter on the lips when applying, stay nicely put for the most part, and when fading leave a nice stain, plus they come in a wide array of colours which please my artistic eye and warm the cockles of my little heart. The shade 04 Aphrodite with the alluring name is a favourite, in the Lip Color Sheer collection. It's a nice mid-plum, mid-rose shade that contrary to what's advertised doesn't let the natural hue of the lips shine through (and therefore reads warmer than my own set) and leaves a satiny finish. Perfect for everyday as well as dressier occasions, exactly because two glides provide much pigment. The odd thing is it's 55$ in the USA according to Temptalia and 61 euros in the local retail market, more expensive than any other brand, which makes me wonder how physical stores intend to stay open in the long term! But I digress...
I'm also currently in search of a great blurring primer that can be worn alone over sunscreen in the cooler months and in the warmer springtime ahead. I like soft and satiny things rather than all glam gloss glass skin. Any suggestions? Thanks for your input.
Chanel often comes to mind when we talk about festive occasion drenched in champagne, if only because of the reputation of aldehydes being fizzy and sparkling materials (the aldehyde sequence in No.5 is mostly citrusy and waxy, to be honest, though).
Chanel's perfumer, Olivier Polge, taking the baton from his father Jacques, had stated clearly that the legendary perfume of Chanel No 5 Eau de Toilette has no age, yet the newer edition Chanel Eau Première No.5 from 2008 would "effortlessly outshine the original without denying its relevance." The choice of words was not random, it seems. Effortless seems to comprise the very essence (no pun intended) of the bright insouciance of the newer interpretation of the venerable classic.
However great Eau Première from 2008 was, nevertheless, the advancement of tastes meant that it wasn't really appreciated by mass consumers, but only by us, perfumephiles. Logical enough, it followed the well-known formula rather closely. Therefore in 2015, the company revamped it in No.5 Eau Première 2015, in the process liquefying it according to the IFRA regulations, which made an impact around 2012.
One perfume lover once said, "No5 Eau Première is a gateway perfume to the aldehydic genre. This is a beautiful mix of soft, bright, fizzy, and powdery. Eau Première is Diet No5, about 60% the flavor but still highly pleasing."
I find myself flirting with a bottle for a long time now because it brings on that girly, lovely, fizzy quality to the fore, most of all. It's not the aliphatic aldehydes' cluster of perfumery materials that made the older versions waxy and clean-soapy; it's the brightness of its facade that belies its being born with a silver spoon in its mouth. It reminds me of New Year's Day mornings sipping champagne and eating eggs Benedict at a posh hotel dining room after a night out dancing. It's festive, dazzlingly bright, ethereal, and with its hopes for the best risen to their apex.
The balancing act of the fragrance lies in judging how the citrusy freshness extends and rejuvenates the rose in the heart; there's a delicate, wisp-like chord of citrus and rose. What has kept me then from owning a bottle? Poor performance, mostly, as I have mentioned in an article I wrote "Eau Couture for Chanel No.5 L'Eau". Yet it smells good and puts good-natured charm in one's mien.
There's a time and place for that, too, and champagne bubbly for January of a new year could not meet with a more reliable ally.
Careful: the 2008 edition had a tall architectural bottle resembling that of Elixir Sensuel, while the 2015 edition has the classic squared shouldered bottle of No.5.
Although iris scents are often mentioned in regards to powdery and starchy shades in perfumery, which would recall paper, skin, and bulbous vegetables, with Bois d'Iris The Different Company (not to be confused with Van Cleef & Arpel’s subsequent release under its Collection Extraordinaire line Bois d'Iris) we come upon an epiphany.
It's more of a manifestation of woods within iris than actual iris. This provides the necessary piquancy to bring out a certain oddness to the aura of the scent, which makes one wonder where scent ends and skin begins, or vice versa.
Iris concrete lacks the diffusional standards for modern perfumery, so perfumer Ellena bolstered the material with alpha-iso-methyl ionone, to add a diffusive violet chord alongside the chalkier analog of the iris.
The duet of iris and alpha-iso-methyl ionone also structures Hermès Hiris, but while Olivia Giacobetti’s formula uses carrot seeds and almond wood, Bois d’Iris veers into cedarwood to render a sublime una corda pedal of a scent.
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 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.
The new year opens before us with the world of perfumes reflecting everything that concerns us in the rest of pop culture.From the world of woke to environmental consciousness and artificial intelligence, 2022 is set to be an exciting year.Let's go examine these tendencies in fragrance for 2022 one by one.
Reclaiming the Name of the Rose
Perfumes with rose work slightly like the classic trench coat in beige gabardine in our closet, or a brit pop song in a department store with youthful products.They brighten the mood with their easy reception even by novices, their purity of intentions, their classicism in structure.This year, creators and companies, mainstream and niche, are reinventing the rose.
Tom Ford leads with 3 suggestions that follow last year's Rose Prick, this time with geographical inspiration: Rose D'Amalfi, Rose de Chine, and Rose de Russie are released in February 2022, before Valentine, as part of the newTom Ford Private Rose Garden collection.Red and rose and for Armani with the new Sì Passione l'Εclat de Parfum, with the bright Cate Blanchet as the muse of the campaign again.As with Lancôme with La Nuit Trésor Intense L’Eau de Parfum (what a mouthful, have your smartphone at the ready to show to sales assistants).
Digital Anamorphs
When marketing perfume, we often tend to resort to ancient techniques - things that are collected and processed by hand. In the actual industry, however, this is definitely not the case. Fragrances by large and small houses incorporate sophisticated ingredients of human laboratory preparation and advanced industrial sophistication technologies. Headspace was one, a popular technique first used in Antonia's Flowers, that captures the smell of things, and then recreates them in the lab as innovative arrangements.
Nowadays technologies such as artificial intelligence are used to compose perfumes. In 2021 there was even an all-digital fragrance created as a non-exchangeable work (NFT)! The launch of Paco Rabanne Phantom in late 2021, with its cute robot-shaped bottle, let consumers use their smartphone to tap on its head to create a digital experience.
The composition of Paco Rabanne Phantom on the other hand is entirely created by artificial intelligence (AI) and this is going to be used more and more in industrial size perfumery.Digital interactive bottles and perfumes created entirely from artificial intelligence will continue to pierce our minds and noses.In 2022 and beyond.
More art + perfume go hand in hand
Arpa (sounds like harpe in Greek…) is a new multi-platform brand by perfumer Barnabé Fillion. It combines aroma, music, architecture and images in a complete experience of all the senses. Coupling that is becoming an increasingly strong trend. In November 2021, Arpa was officially released at the Dover Street Parfums Market and the final collection did not disappoint our high expectations.
At Arpa, Fillion reunites with many of its former partners, drawing on different talents to create accompanying pieces for the brand's perfumes. These include a series of sculptures and records that are combined with scents, such as Anicka Yi and the French DJ Pilooski. The graphics were designed by the heavyweight Nathalie du Pasquier of the Memphis Group, while an office space was designed by the architect of the Australian firm Aesop, Jean-Philippe Bonnefoi. Meanwhile, limited edition bottles have been hand-crafted by glassmaker Jochen Holz.
Chinese Tips for Chanel
As part of its approach to China's always-aimed-at market, this dormant luxury consumer giant, Chanel with a distinctive eco-friendly approach creates recyclable, bio-sustainable products in a new line of cosmetics, makeup and grooming products called Chanel No.1
The collection with the camellia logo bears the symbol of the flower in red, just in anticipation of the Chinese New Year (the so-called Lunar Year) and with the expected lightness in the fragrances. For Chanel No.1 L'Eau Rouge, perfumer Olivier Polge explained: "This aromatic spray with a composition of 97% natural ingredients, can be used in combination with another product of the house or alone".
The composition ends with a drying down of iris and clean musks for a slightly powdery feeling of cleanliness.
Hot air? Not exactly.
This is not the first time that pure air has been packaged in bottles for consumers with a sense of humor.The Air de Montcuq was a first attempt: Montcuq is a French village, but the headphones bring a bit of "air from our butt" - the smell happily reminiscent of ethereal mountain scenery and freshness.
Air Eau de Parfum by The Air Company is a sexless fragrance composed of carbon dioxide, which binds at its source. To do this, the brand produces hydrogen which is fed to the patented carbon conversion reactor along with CO2. The resulting reaction converts hydrogen and CO2 into ethanol, methanol and impurity-free water, which form the body of the perfume. Then, the Air Eau de Parfum preparation ends with light aromatic notes, such as orange peel, jasmine, violet and tobacco - so as not to deviate from the aromatic parameter.
Eco-consciousness will flourish
Starting with Rochas and their Rochas Girl, lots of companies, not only Chanel above, put an emphasis on eco-consciousness, sustainability and green imprint.
Fashion brand Chloé has even issued a sort of manifesto on their website. "We intend to become a force for positive change beyond the Chloé workplace by working with our main suppliers to promote and further our standards while ensuring transparency. Based on our environmental impact research, we learned that our biggest impact comes from raw materials. This has prompted us to work with external experts to identify lower impact materials. We are focused on increasing their proportion such that we can reach 90% by 2025 at the latest. Consequently, this will contribute to our target of reducing emissions by 25% per product."
This is reflected in both their Chloé Eau de Parfum Naturelle and their newest, just launched Nomade Eau de Parfum Naturelle, fronted by Naomi Scott.
We will continue to see this trend gaining momentum throughout 2022 and beyond.
Finding one's perfect soapy fragrance is a question of defining the scent of soap in the first place. Will it be the classic Camay and Lux soap of yesteryear, which smelled of roses and aldehydes? Will it be the original Dove with its iris-musk aura or its newer iterations with fruits and coconut? Are we talking about chamomile and the botanical smells of pine and lavender, perhaps of jasmine and flowers, allied to powerful powdery aspects, or are we concentrating on fatty aldehydes known from Aleppo and Marseilles soap which smell like clean laundry on a line? I'm personally quite fond of the latter, to be honest.
The promise of Marseilles soap, in its own particular way both sweetish and fatty-acrid, is strikingly fulfilled in Naviglio by Italian niche brand Milano Fragranze. It does smell soapy, really soapy-smelling! The perfect scent for capturing summer cleanliness, but also great for year-round, when you want to project that pristine white, bright impression that is deliriously happy, like lily of the valley bells peaking through the grass on a warm day.
Although we're prepared by the brand for a marine fragrance, with the mention of the canals outside Milan, the aquatic notes here are not the sort met at the seafront, salty and/or with whiffs of organic matter decomposing. In Naviglio, they instead recall the clean ambiance of a humidifier, the lovely sweetish scent of water ponds, and dewiness on a climbing ivy. This effect reminds me of two quirky little scents, Rem by Reminiscence and Ivy by the Fragrance Library (Demeter). It's captured perfectly here, and alongside the soap, it creates a charming, easy-to-wear fragrance.
Bonus points for its incredibly long-lasting quality. It radiated on my skin for the full 12-hour mark!
There are few things I appreciate more than stumbling upon a clever word play which intrigues my mind and excites my hopes for something unusual. Mousse d'Arbre Gris was one such thing in the perfume world, and it caught me by surprise, since I had not heard of the Woudacieux Haute Parfumerie brand before. Lucky for me, the Internet and its wonders has a way of introducing me to all sort of bright ideas. And so, on I plunged and tried the fragrances.
Mousse d'Arbre Gris immediately impressed me. The wordplay lies in arbre being tree in French, while ambregris is grey amber, the notorious perfumery ingredient from sperm whales. And mousse is froth, foam, the fluffy texture of a dessert or lather. In short, it's not what it seems, it's so much more.
All the Woudacieux fragrances I tried give the sensation of high ratio of natural extracts in them. They have this herbal, primal quality about them. The initial spray of Mousse d'Arbre Gris is redolent of jatamansi, or spikenard (the Latin name Nardostachys jatamansi indicates being part of the honeysuckle family). Native to the Alpine Himalayas and mentioned in the traditional medicine system of Ayurveda, jatamansi/spikenard is precious and important.
The scent of Mousse d'Arbre Gris is both green, herbal, resinous, between salty and warm-powdery -it gives mysterious and welcoming vibes of the vegetal and earthy kind. The brand as a whole has a hippy-classy quality about them, the fragrances are vegan and produced in limited batches (2000 were created for this one). The illustrations speak of an affinity for botanical sketches on old books, and the fairies that seem to be dancing on the labels give an impression of a Victorian album.
It's a quiet and introspective scent that projects moderately and creates a sense of allure about its wearer. The synergy of synthesized castoreum,civet and ambregris gives a rich body behind the greener and floral touches of the top. It's supple and soft, ambery, non invasive yet still very there. The company introduces it as "an introductory turn on for both sexes" and it really is.
The 20% concentration of compound in the Eau de Parfum ensures a great lasting power to the mix and a value for money application. You only need a couple of sprays I found to fulfill the frothy mix of mossy-herbal softness aura around you. The bottle can be found on the official website. You can see images of the brand on their Pinterest account.
One often sees young girls looking for a perfume for everyday -clean, that will be well liked by their entourage, that will make them feel feminine, and in full possession of the coolness of their youth. They're offered a pile of branded products in big department stores, and one tends to feel a little bit sorry for the embarrassment; too much choice, but too little distinction. Yet small gems await in the wings. Eau d'Ivoire is a cooler and more modern style variant of the re-launched Ivoire by Pierre Balmain (which gave us legendary fragrances like Vent Vert, Miss Balmain and Jolie Madame) a year later, in 2013.
The relaunched contemporary Ivoire by Balmain is also beautiful, with an aldehyde arrangement of cleanliness and soap, less retro-"mommy" compared to perfumer Francis Camail's 1979 original Ivoire (for some funny reason, the perfumer's name always reminds me of Camay soap ...).
In Eau d'Ivoire we're dealing with a bright, shiny, dominant magnolia that comes to the fore like a young girl at an event, who radiates natural beauty: fresh flawless skin, sculpted features, loose lush hair, light-footed dance moves, a gaze with no hidden. You look at her and your mood lifts.
The fragrance of Eau d'Ivoire has that deliriously attractive acidic feeling that men like so much, the freshness of initial spraying that is combined with the feeling of sophisticated musky skin-like haze underneath, which, although it speaks of cleanliness, does not scratch the nose with the sweetish acrid smell of fabric softener. The aldehydidic profile is weakened compared to the original Ivoire, but it is accompanying in a primo secondo fashion. A hint of soap, of the bath ritual, a feeling of well-being and softness remains on the skin when it dries, with a soupcon of clean fractalized patchouli.
Eau d'Ivoire lasts a rather long time especially on fabric, but noses almost "destroyed" by a diet too indulgent in synthetic vanilla, patchouli and harsh oudh accords might find it undetectable. Solution? After a bout of gluttony, it takes a little fasting to re-evaluate the subtler nuances of good cooking. A break of sweet and acrid powdery smells will convince you of the truth of my claim.
Parting shot: Eau d'Ivoire reminds me of the also optimistic beautiful Joie Eclat by Valeur Absolue.
Imperial Amber is the sort of fragrance one would expect from a truly established, traditional parfumerie, that catered to a refined aesthetic and discerning customers. The name itself is revealing. And Graham & Pott, though recently evolved in perfumery itself, being a cloth manufacturing company established in 1890, stroke gold with it. The scent of Imperial Amber juxtaposes contrasting layers of bright and sparkling citruses (bergamot and
grapefruit, to be specific), vibrant flowers combined with a rich oud accord, and a
spicy and sweet cinnamon note laid on a warm and deep base of amber,
patchouli, and cedarwood.
The sweetish combination of labdanum resinoid and vanilla can soften the harsher notes of oudh (also known as aloeswood or agarwood, a prized material coming from the fungus of the aquillaria tree). The classic example of woods softened by amber chords is in Chanel's perfumeBois des Iles. And though I never expected oudh to become soft and pliant, the note itself being musty and rather demonically complex in its raw form, it seems like Graham & Pott managed to accomplish just that delicious effect of softened woods, deepening the chord, giving it spicy piquancy, and sweetening it just so, rendering a wonderful oriental composition that makes you close your eyes and swoon in pleasure. It melts on the skin, imparting a delicious aura that is haunting.
The Graham & Pott brand is one of those historical houses which evolved into fragrance making, attending to the art of perfumery in a changing world that demands pleasure and exquisite detail from the moments that define our being. A haut-de-gamme parfumerie.
The wonderful deep orange of the packaging also recalls the momentous moment of inspiration, from the scented paper that would fold the precious cloths; orange-y like the finest homemade marmalade. The cartons and insides are deliciously beckoning, with their rich, saturated hues of this sunny color, inviting to fondle, to caress the heavy glass bottles with their streamlined contours. 2019 saw the introduction of Noble Vicuna and White Sable, imagined from the furs of animals now protected, while in 2020, the firm launched Royal Llama and White Vicuna Parfum. The year 2021 sees the launch of Imperial Amber, Mon Jasmin, and Ruby Staple, inspired by rubies.
Graham & Pott Imperial Amber is available as a 50ml Parfum (with amazing persistence on the skin, easily an entire day and night) at the price of 305 Pounds and as a 100ml Parfum at the price of 395 Pounds through the Graham & Pott official website.
Regarding Pierre Cardin fragrances, his first officially documented release has been Pierre Cardin pour Monsieur in 1972 and Cardin for women (Cardin de Pierre Cardin) in 1976. However the official Pierre Cardin website does not mention them and begins the story from Choc de Cardin. Now that the great designer has passed, they will be the subject of speculation and furtive bidding wars on auction sites. Celebrated for his avant-garde style and Space Age designs which, alongside those of Courreges and Paco Rabanne, Cardin catapulted the fashions of the 1960s, and partly made that decade what it is.
Choc de Cardin in 1981 was indeed for many their first distinct memory of a Cardin-signed scent. The evolution of a citrus cologne given a shadowy chypre mantle in the way of Diorella and Le Parfum de Thérèse, Choc is neither shocking, nor chocolate-evoking; it's as French as it possibly gets, and in many ways "a forgotten masterpiece" worth hunting down. Seriously, if only warm weather fragrances were that nuanced and that balanced nowadays.
Rose Cardin from 1990 also has many fans. Indeed the latter is among the few rose-centric fragrances which has something to draw me in, maybe because it does what niche fragrances today do at tenfold the price. Created by the same perfumer who gave us Choc de Cardin, Françoise Caron, it's noted for its sureness of execution more than its innovation. The rose is fanned on coriander, which puts a fresh and rather soapy spin on the blossom's nectar, and on patchouli, which makes it seem like it's endlessly unfurling, but softly, not angularly, with a smidgen of incense and musk.
In the meantime, in 1983 Paradoxe by Cardin was launched. This was a sandwich of two main ideas by Raymond Chaillan, who also created Givenchy III: the fresh, sour and bitterish top note of galbanum and green gardenia, and the animalic-leather growl coming up from the base in between lovely florals, all womanly and plush. It's enough to make a (chypre loving) girl dream.
As my colleague Miguel put it, "Paradoxe is an assertive chypre and it's almost an academic example of that style. From the top we get a freshness that is aldehydic, green and citrusy. The galbanum note is very evident and grounds a certain fizziness from the aldehydes and bergamot.[...] This is not a powdery scent at all. It is crisp, transparent and angular. This angular aspect is worked mostly through the hardness of the somewhat ashy base notes."
These are fragrances that collective memory passed them by, but they need to be rediscovered.
Exploring the Baruti line, a niche collection by Greek perfumer Spyros Drosopoulos, based in the Netherlands, I found myself transfixed by Onder de Linde, which roughly translates from the Dutch as "under the linden trees." (Sounds dreamy, doesn't it?)
This extrait de parfum has a way of speaking of blue skies and honeyed blossoms in a modern, totally unexpected way, as the floralcy does not arise till halfway in the heart notes. It might be that it came right when we were facing a very ominous winter, with the hope of spring far in the air, so this promise of joy and uplifting optimism was a much needed glimpse of a better future. It acts like an anti-depressant, almost, on a weary soul. It's honeyed, but restrained in the sweetness, not veering into gourmand territory at any rate. It's neither powdery, which many fragrances in this genre tend to fall into, especially ones which couple the heliotropin and aubepine molecules into mimosa notes that embrace lindens. It's soft like a feather, enduring like the faith of youth in itself.
The brand implies added notes of pear and lilac, which I do not detect per se (and I do love lilacs), but the effect is nothing short of a magical late spring, early summer morning when the birds are chirping and you're on to the love rendezvous you've been awaiting all your life, or – more prosaically – the career step you've always hoped for. It's that joyous, honestly.
With the assistance of Madeleine Hillen (perfumer's assistant and lab manager) and Maria Chetskaya (brand manager), Baruti is going forward, plunging into the demanding niche sector, where you have to put your money where your mouth is to survive among hundreds of companies building their portfolio of scents day by day, year by year. It's clear they're destined for a bright future!
The Favourite is the latest fragrance by British brand Penhaligon's and the story behind it is inspiring. It involves as its protagonist Sarah Churchill, the Duchess of Marlborough (who had an intriguing story), and allegedly the favourite of Queen Anne's in 18th century England. They were formidable women, full of inner strength and conflicting passions, which history does not fully gives credit for. The fragrance is not entirely matching to this background, being more delicate and traditionally pretty than anticipated, though that's not necessarily a problem for those intending to wear it.
An English courtier, Sarah rose to be one of the most influential women of her time through her close friendship with Anne, Queen of Great Britain. Sarah's friendship and were widely known, and leading public figures often turned their attentions to her, hoping for favor from Anne. By the time Anne became Queen, Sarah’s knowledge of government and intimacy with the queen had made her a powerful friend and a dangerous enemy. She was also married to the general John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough, hence her title, so she was accommodated in powerful relations from all sides, one could claim.
photo by Elena Vosnaki
Perhaps the big velours bow in light, sugared almond pink on the bottle is best translating this effect. It's a cloud of fragrance surrounding you with prettiness, light yet persistent, like a ray of sunshine on a warm morning. Innocuous yet pleasant.
The formula by perfumer Alienor Massenet lies on a fruity floral chord, with an appealing and sunny aspect of what comes off to me as litchi at first. It's beautifully rendered, never too sweet, never air-headed, on the contrary tender and soft and leading to a beautiful garland of violets. These violets walk hand in hand with the rose in the heart; their temperament is balanced and they do not lean either candy-ish, nor vegetal, like violets swathed in their foliage which hides their character into verdancy. The violet-rose combination in The Favourite by Penhaligon's feels like the softest swan down puff for powdering your nose, which is apparently what lots of the ladies and gentlemen of the era were doing. Of course analytical chemistry is what we have to thank for the perceived association of violet molecules, ionones, being considered powdery and smelling cosmetic-like in the last 120 years. But it's a small historical detail that would distract from the ethereal character of The Favourite. The copious musk and mimosa/benzaldehyde components, that bring forth an intimate underground for the floral fruity core, are the finishing trail which reveals it was not all fun and games at the royal court.
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