Vero Profumo Mito: new fragrance

“The warm air is pervaded by a pleasant sensation of white flowers, jasmine and newly blooming magnolias, garlands of moist moss, aromatic leaves and proud cypresses. Slowly the fragrance rises. Up, up, higher and higher still, to join, all of a sudden, the crystalline jets gushing in the fountains and resting on the mirrors of water in the garden. Millions of miniscule water particles intertwine to create a shining, perfumed veil that rests on the cold marble shoulders of countless statues: gods, nymphs, fauns, dragons and mermaids. Time has stood still in the garden: yesterday is today is tomorrow."


 This is how perfumer Vero Kern presents her newest fragrance (after the masterful Kiki, Onda and Rubj in extrait and in eau de parfum), Mito, a white floral with green, mossy and freshly spicy nuances. Mito is out for launch later in the year.

Illustration:   Sofo Berdzenishvili.

2010 perfume recap: The Best (& Worst) in Scent

What is the end of the year without summarising lists? And what is the end of a year in the fragrance industry no less without comprising a "best of" (and worst of) of sorts? To that end, a select team of bloggers brought our minds together to bring you opinionated verdicts on what you should not miss and what you might as well be spared when passing the perfume counter or browsing on your laptop.
For clarity's sake, my own list comprises only releases from 2010 (with one exception), not things I might have discovered this year which were issued previously. That doesn't mean I consider the following the "best of" in all perfumery in general (and I'm well known for sticking to favourites no matter when issued), just the best -and worst- in 2010.


Perfume of the Year: Absolue pour le Soir by Maison Francis Kurkdjian.Perfectly balanced between "dirty" and perfume-y, like perfumes of yore with its alliance of ylang ylang, honeyed rose and scads of cumin, it curiously draws upon a retro "skankiness" that's not really vulgar, more lived-in; like the precarious equilibrium a certain Mediterranean lady keeps between the mysticism and languor of the East and the rationality of the West in her own heart of hearts.
Beware skank-o-phobics! It can be intense.

Perfumer of the year: It must have been Bertrand Duchaufour's year.I don't know whether it's through bloggers' promotion or simply overindustriousness (Amaranthine -technically from end of 2009- and Sartorial for Penhaligon's, Nuit de Tubereuse and Traversee du Bosphore for L'artisan), but it seemed like he was everywhere this past while. Not that he doesn't deserve it, mind you.

Best feminine fragrance (department store circuit): Sensuous Noir by Estee Lauder
Best masculine fragrance (department store circuit): Voyage d'Hermès by Hermès
It's difficult to make something worthwhile in the tsunami of thousands of releases that will -fatefully- be discounted in 6 months' time at consignment shops. These two are solidly built (one on patchouli, the other on woody aqueous musk), not wildly differentiating themselves, but very pleasant, lasting and with a whiff of intelligence built in.

Best Shared niche fragrance: Sartorial by Penhaligon's.
I do prefer Duchaufour's work in Amaranthine for the same brand though, only that one is much more feminine. Sartorial with its honyed, waxy lavender and patchouli is as suave as Terence Stamp in his 1960s days, with a reassuring expectancy.

Best fragrance under 50$US: Fleur Chérie by L'Occitane.
A fresh and airy interpretation of neroli & orange blossom on a bed of cedar and blackcurrant to bring forth happy thoughts in the dead of winter. Available online.

Best Limited editon: Arsène Lupin Dandy by Guerlain.It's not poised to be a limited edition, but something tells me it will be short-lived, nonetheless. A very refined soft leather for men, ready to be snatched by women as well.


The fragrance I loved (and wore) most: Boxeuses by Lutens.The icy sensuality of Bas de Soie is also quite fetching, but with Boxeuses Serge and Sheldrake revisit at last their favourite territory of the souk and the polished hides on the walls of a Berber dwelling which I had missed. Spices, candied fruits and the backdrop of nubbuck. A special someone finds this scent terribly sexy on a certain dark-haired historian and who is fool enough to argue with that?

Best new fragrance concept: If Womanity by Mugler had managed to reconcile the savoury with the sweet in a less strange and loud summation, we'd be talking about the surest trend to follow shortly on a perfume counter near you. I still believe we're to see more in this vein, only I hope more polished and assured next time.

In memoriam (discontinued): The disappearence of Bulgari Black from the UK market. It's still available in other European countries nevertheless and there is no official word on its eclipsing from production. Attrape Coeur (formely known as Guet Apens) is definitely missing in action, as we had announced almost a year now. Shame...
Worst News of the Year: Belle d'Opium signaling the death toll on the original Opium, thinned out from reformulations to the point that it's become Whitney Port where it used to be a zaftig Catherine Zeta Jones.

Trend we can do without: Need I spell it out? A-m-b-r-o-x-a-n.Dear perfumers, I get it: It's a shortcut for you, it provides the backbone you are denied by all those IFRA restrictions, it's practical and stable, it can even be nice sometimes, but please: Sufficing a composition with ambrox/ambroxan isn't going to make a proper perfume. Why is everything from Baie Rose 26 and Another 13 both by Le Labo to Juliette has a Gun Not a Perfume have to be based on it now?

Best celebrity scent: I don't really follow celebrity scents sampling-wise (my loss, you might argue). I still wear Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker which is the best celebrity fragrance this side of the eponymous Catherine Deneuve in my books.

Most ridiculous celebrity for a scent: Paris Hilton channeling Marilyn Monroe (she wishes) for the launch of her latest scent. Now I've seen it all.

Best Buzz: Andy Tauer generates the greatest niche buzz every year. Is it any wonder?
This year he repackaged his entire line, issued new fragrances, he launched a new website and immersed himself into a good cause: promoting art in perfumery.
I was also pleased to see the Vero Kern line of Eaux de Parfum reach the States finally. Rubj is particularly stellar and Vero herself does nothing by halves.

Best Ad: 2010 hasn't been particularly memorable on the visual front: The last exciting perfume commercials I recall have been Chanel No.5 with Tautou (2009), Midnight Poison with Eva Green (2007) and Miss Dior Chérie by Sofia Copolla (2008). Bleu de Chanel directed by Scorcese is all right (mainly for its atmospheric use of blue as a reflection on the fragrance's name and flacon), but still not thrilling or imaginative enough (and don't get me started on the completely lukewarm fragrance itself!).

Worst Ad: Bang by Marc Jacobs.An oilied up Jacobs is posing with his legs apart hidden behind a giant bottle "banged" by a fireshot? If this is a pick up line, it's the crudest I have ever set eyes on. Pass me the barf bag, please.

Best Natural Scent: Light by Anya's Garden is exactly what its name implies: In a word, luminous.


Favorite Flacon: I'm not much of a fangirl for elaborate perfume bottles, prefering the architectural sparsity of Lutens, The Different Company, Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences etc, but I kinda dig the latest Agonist Liquid Crystal eau de parfum flacon. It looks like some fungus life form preserved in formaldehyde on Holmes' desk while the rest of the tubes are bubbling merrily and it never misses to make me lean and observe more closely for clues as to what it contains. So weird, it's a classic!

I would have liked to see more of: Green, green, green.
For some reason, in a time when green is the byword in the cosmetics and skincare industry, it's sorely lacking in the perfumery business. Issey Miyake A Scent was a good effort, but its commercial flop was kinda disappointing. The leathery trend (see Boxeuses & L'Heure Fougeuse in "Les Heures de Parfum" for Cartier, by Mathilde Laurent) is having me enraptured.

Best name of a fragrance company: Odin never fails to make me think of Scandinavian mythology. If only they hadn't attached the New York moniker right after it...

Best Flanker: I'm possibly cheating with this one (as "flanker" is industry speak for a fragrance which reprises the name and design of a previous best-seller to introduce a quite different scent with minimal change in name, rather than a different concentration) but Parfums Caron, probably the world's most unprobable creator of flankers, has scored: Parfum Sacré Intense is capitalising on Jean-Pierre Béthouard's 1990 original Parfum Sacré (itself a study on an older Caron scent, Or et Noir) and made a beguiling spicy oriental of clove-strewn rose to lose your heart into. I certainly have.

Rising Star of 2010: "Outlaw" perfumers doing what they darn please irrespective of perfumery restriction, just for the heck of it. It was about time...


Don't forget to visit the other participating blogs in their best & worst 2010 lists:
Ca Fleure Bon, Olfactarama, Mais Que Perfume.

Penhaligon's Amaranthine: fragrance review

I had included Amaranthine by Penhaligon's in my Top 10 Scents that Sing Spring for 2010 a while ago with the following words: "Its name denotes the eternally beautiful and unfading. The perfume, just like the name (from the Greek αμάραντος), evokes a deep purple red, a "corrupted" floral oriental with plenty of "dirty" aspects combining spiced (clovey) ylang-ylang and jasmine on a milky sandalwood and musky base. Fetish-phobics should better shy away, but those worth their salt in immersing themselves head-long into intimate scents (ooops!) will rejoice that the meadows and the flowers do not only smell of the sterile florist's or Alpine tops. As shocking ~coming from such an upper-stiff-lip British brand~ as discovering that our favourite nanny, Julie Andrews, has a va jay jay ~and a wee hole~ after all!"

So why am I back reviewing this? Probably because I have been pondering these past few weeks on how it came as an utter shock into the Miss Charm school of the Penhaligon's line-up, smiling like characters out of a Jane Austen novel with no success in hiding this Edna Pontellier amongst them! Like other outspoken feminine florals, like Passion or Grand Amour by Annick Goutal, DelRae's Amoureuse and Vero Profumo Rubj, this is a case of not being afraid to shout off the rooftops its deliciously carnal intent. An intent that is rendered like it's the most natural thing in the world!
Penhaligon’s website says “Amaranthine [part of the new Anthology series] is a corrupted floral oriental for those private moments when everything is anticipation” and by that line alone one would surmiss they're up to no good: Which they're not, in the best possible sense. Yet it was March at Perfume Posse who put the apocalyptical size of the shock value in proper terms: "Immediately and humorously nicknamed Amaranthigh by perfumistas, Amaranthine was a shot across the bow in terms of our expectations from staid Penhaligon’s. Bertrand Duchaufour’s bizarre, refulgent twist on a boudoir scent would have been about the last thing I expected from the house, and I wasn’t alone there".

Like a modern time Léonce, a callous patriach who is unshakable in his views, I was eternally stuck on how Penhaligon's as a fragrance house amounted to instant Victoriana with doilles put under the TV-set and little floral mats on the arm-rests of the couches, in a house that smelled of crushed lavender and butter-foiled scones for tea, always a little stale. Pretty as a picture and nostalgic possibly, but would I live there? No if I had any hopes of saving my jaw muscles from overexertion from the smile that would plague my face translating its ecumenical acceptance and patience.
I had only managed to be interested in Malabah, Hammam Bouquet and Castile from the house's classics previously and in Lily & Spice from the newer range; my itinerary (stopping at the outskirts of Coventry and never intending to go all the way up to Leeds) was cut short: The train was abtruptly stopped at junction "Eyes Glazing Over Victorian Posy" with a disastrous detour via "Bluebell" which had nothing to do with blue and plenty to do with Bells of Hell going ting-a-ling-a-ling.

Perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour has managed to shake this ~in hindsight~ passé notion and thrust it out of the window of that very same train. (Actually he also did a complete redecoration of that English cottage above, ushering a little French deco amidst all that plaid and floral. One can have too much of a picturtesque thing, after all). Amaranthine is travelling from station to station between fruity-ladden vines that sprout banana-bubblegum tones of quality jasmine (and lush ylang ylang) and a gently green but spicy blend of cardamom and coriander recalling not yet fully fermented tea aromatized the Middle Eastern way. And when it stops, it takes you to someplace where proper good buttery English toffee is still made (creamy sandalwood, warm musk, milky caramel tones), so not everything British is lost. Two beauties, one English, one French, are having a tryst. Simply spectacular!

Notes for Penhaligon's Amaranthine: green tea, freesia, banana leaf, coriander, cardamom, rose, carnation, clove, orange blossom, ylang ylang, Egyptian jasmine, musk, vanilla, sandalwood, condensed milk, tonka bean.

Availability and Limited editions on this link.

A special thanks to Joe for introducing me to this gem.

Photo of a nude Brigitte Bardot and an equally nude Jane Birkin via The Moly Doily blog. Claudya photo by Bettina Rheims from the Female Troubles Series

Scents that Sing Spring: Top 10 fragrances

There are scented beauties that make you feel ecstatically giddy, projecting happiness from the top of the lungs and filling our hearts with joy. Do they have to be silly too? Not necessarily, even though a little naïveté can be a good thing sometimes; especially when the gripe of the real world becomes too much. Ayala of Smelly Blog organised this latest blog-o-rama in which a fine team of bloggers (listed at the bottom) focuses on scents that put a spring in our step!

In my mind, autumn can be the season for melancholia and serious contemplation, winter needs some comfort injection and richer velours textures while in the summer a cool shot of something lifting the suffocating canopy of the heat is welcome respite, no matter what that is. But a true spring scent should have some unconscious ingenuousness, merely appearing simple and pretty at first sniff, but hiding beneath it a layer of texture that is not immediately attainable.
So my personal Top Spring Scents for this spring (fragrances I am wearing with much gusto and utter glee) are:

Amaranthine Penhaligon's (perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour)
Its name denotes the eternally beautiful and unfading. The perfume, just like the name, evokes a deep purple red, a "corrupted" floral oriental with plenty of "dirty" aspects (see below for another one) combining spiced (clovey) ylang-ylang and jasmine on a milky sandalwood and musky base. Fetish-phobics should better shy away, but those worth their salt in immersing themselves head-long into intimate scents (ooops!) will rejoice that the meadows and the flowers do not only smell of the sterile florist's or Alpine tops. As shocking ~coming from such an upper-stiff-lip British brand~ as discovering that our favourite nanny, Julie Andrews, has a va jay jay ~and a wee hole~ after all!

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia (perfumer Mathilde Laurent)
There is nothing more April-like than the smell of bitter orange trees in blossom, their waxy white petals infiltrating the glossy green of the leaves and some fruit still hanging from the branches, like a reminder of what has been already accomplished. Guerlain captured the ethereal vapors of steam of these delicate, ravishing blossoms and married them to a pre-emptying summery jasmine and the faint whiff of cool frankincense burning inside a Greek Orthodox church preparing for the country's most devout celebration: Easter. Flora Nerolia is like a snapshot of late Lent in Greece and for that reason is absolutely precious to me.

Paco Rabanne Calandre (perfumer Michel Hy)
I recently rediscovered this perfume of the 1970s to much delight. Calandre has a wonderful olfactory profile, as I had written in my full review: "citrusy, slightly sour top note which segues into both oily green hyacinth and a fresh (laundered, thanks to lily-of-the-valley) white rose, elements which peter out slowly into an undefinable vaguely herbal base with honey and light musk touches that is its own thing more than anything that morphs into the wearer" A quiet triumph and a most friendly, easy-going fragrance. (full review here)

L'artisan Parfumeur Jacinthe des Bois (perfumer Anne Flipo)
Jacinthe des Bois was introduced in 2000 as part of L'Artisan's Je T'ai Cueilli Une Fleur trio, which also included Verte Violette and Oeillet Sauvage, all soliflores composed by Anne Flipo (and I love them all). Sadly discontinued, Jacinthe des Bois takes the intoxicating aroma of forest hyacinths, raw and green, like a painting rendered via outrenoir. Like no northern spring has completely lost its thaw, it hides a small facet of lugubriousness that is the necessary part into more fully grasping the real joy of living.

YSL Paris (perfumer Sophia Grojsman for Yves Saint Laurent)
There's something utterly charming about the retro makeup feel of the combination of rose and violets and in Paris this feel is brought to an apotheosis. Paris has the gift ~and curse, if you overdo it~ to be perceptible at a distance, creating a halo that will make waiters swerve on their heels, small children drop their toys to hug you and men exclaiming you smell "clean and feminine". Simply put, a spring fragrance to lose your heart to. (full review here)

Annick Goutal Passion (perfumer Isabelle Doyen)
A typical old Goutal perfume oscillating between modern minimalism and multifaceted classicism, Passion starts with a heady caphoraceous blast of what can only be sensed as vibrant tropical florals snowballing a cadenza of sweet and green notes that unify; to the point where you don't know where the garden ends and the woman starts. The most startling use of ylang-ylang and a joyous romantic fragrance to boot! (full review here)

the little red train in the cobblestone streets of Plaka in Athens,Greece

Lily Bermuda Petals (unknown perfumer for Lily Bermuda)
Petals is feminine, no question about it, and although quite sweet, its tour de force isn't the sugar-tooth of bonbons, but the nectarous quality hiding in the heart of its white blossoms (orange blossom, jasmine, honeysuckle). Its appeal is like that of Natalie Wood at the time she was dating Warren Beatty: Makes you want to break out a prom-like 60s dress and sing in front of the mirror "I feel pretty, oh so pretty; I feel pretty and witty and gay!" , which is rather priceless in its way, won't you agree? (full review here)

Vero Profumo Rubj (perfumer Vero Kern for Vero Profumo)
Sounds odd, smells terrifically happy. The magic of orange blossom absolute in all its glory. Of all the scents in the Vero Profumo line, Rubj impressed me as being the brightest, the shiniest, the most shockingly beautiful in the Eau de Parfum version! Seriously, if you feel like there is a hole in your collection where the heart of a masterpiece fruity floral should beat, don't even think about it twice (full review here for the EDP and here for the parfum)

Ormonde Jayne Tiaré (perfumer Linda Pilkington for Ormonde Jayne)
Tiaré -contrary to expectations due to the name- is reminiscent of a friendlier, more glowing Cristalle by Chanel, which is always an excellent thing. In lieu of a bookish-secretary-in-a-sterile-office which limites its romance-wearing after-hours potential, somehow, someway Ormonde Jayne managed to bypass that and combine both worlds: the intellectual and the sensual, the upbeat and the romantic. A wonderful fragrance that makes you want to run about madly and do recklessly spontaneous things! (full review here)

Une Fleur de Cassie (perfumer Dominique Ropion for Éditions des Parfums Frédéric Malle)
It didn't take me a trip to fragrance capital, Grasse, to appreciate the exquisite technique displayed in highlighting every nook and crany of the mimosa/cassie essences, but it didn't do any harm either. Une Fleur de Cassie has the right amount of "dirty" gusset to hint at coarse carnality (mimosa and cassie absolutes are notoriously musky, jasmine absolute is indolic) while at the same time remaining a gorgeous floral (hints of carnation and rose absolute), smudging its odds and ends into almost an oriental (sandalwood, vanillic fond).

Please check the other participating blogs too:
Smelly Blog
Katie Puckrik Smells
The Non Blonde
I Smell Therefore I Am
Notes from the Ledge
Scent Hive
Savvy Thinker
Roxana's Illuminated Journal
Perfume in Progress
All I Am A Redhead
Ambre Gris
Olfactarama
A Rose Beyond the Thames

Picture of Julie Andrews at the mountaintops from The Sound of Music. Picture of Athens, Plaka region street with wisteria vines, via La Vie Bohemie.

Vero Profumo Onda, Kiki, Rubj in Eau de Parfum: fragrance reviews

The ultra-niche line Vero Profumo, masterminded by Swiss perfumer Vero Kern, had been introduced through these pages and Andy Tauer's blog 3 years ago (how time flies!). Slowly but surely a cult was born, especially around the apocryphal Onda; the very definition of the term in fact, as accolytes were whispering among themselves in fervour about the high quality of the line, publishing their thoughts online with frenzied passion and exorcising the gods of perfumery to always have these beautiful extraits in production. This fanatical devotion was somewhat hindered by only one hindrance: the (inevitable) high price of beauty! Them being extraits, Vero Profumo fragrances had a steep entrance point for the initiated: 105 euros for 7.5ml and 165 euros for 15ml.
But the God of Small Things intervened and Vero is now introducing Eau de Parfum interpretations of her fabulous extraits with the same attention to detail and luxury as she had done with the parfums in (Onda, Kiki and Rubj) which I got off the lab for a preview. But wait, you ask, how do the new versions smell?

Vero in our correspondence had prepared me for the difference in ambience which the new Eaux de Parfum present:

"Don’t expect just a watered down Onda, Rubj or Kiki. Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way. The Eaux need a different structure by pointing out more the topnotes and less on the base always by still respecting the original style of the Extraits. I've simplified the whole composition. I also replaced the heavy animal notes by the unique scent of passionfruit, which I love very much and which gives the creations a certain erotic readiness. The Passion fruit is also the common thread that connect the three scents".

If the mention of passion fruit makes you go all "huh" ~conditioned through years of exposure to juvenile fruity florals inundating the market and heaps of Bath & Body Works store-concepts croping up like mushrooms all over the Western world, threatening domination by the sheer power of fruity tentacles~ rest easy. I leave you with the best recommendation I could possibly give through the wise words of dr. Luca Turin:

"A thorough analysis of the molecules emitted by passionfruit done by the great firm of Haarmann and Reimer in 1998 revealed 180 different molecules never before seen, 47 of which are sulfur compounds, with smells ranging from rotten cabbage to blocked drains. The proximity of beauty to ugliness is never clearer than in tropical fruit. Perhaps because they have to compete with powerful smells of decay for the attention of birds, tropical fruit have decided to play dirty. Adding tiny amounts of rot on an otherwise conventional fruity smell is as invigorating as finding out that a theoretical physicist colleague was once a stripper".

A general truth we perfume lovers have seemed to grasp through our own experience. Yet you see, even though passion fruit was thus named because of its (far fetched) resemblance to the wounds of the Holy Passion of Jesus in the eyes of hierapostoles, its passions run in another direction...a direction very simpatico to perfumery.

I had written about Djedi-inspired Onda that it "manages to convert vetiver into a leathery animal that will make you forget all the citrusy, green interpretations you have already experienced by other perfumers (Guerlain Vetiver, Carven Vetiver) and stop you in your tracks as you come back to the original meaning of it: deep earthy roots, animalic undertones, rich pungency". Now anyone who has had the rare luck to sniff Djedi knows just what a twisted musty-leathery (castoreum) dried up old ruffian it is and how difficult it would be to transport this into modern life. Vero had managed to transform its soul via a beeswax-honey feral base and spices (ginger, coriander, basil, maybe mace) and present us with something uniquely its own: Onda, an old soul in modern clothing, all ashes, salt and honeyed thighs. But whereas the extrait had some rough edges which added to its complexity and status of an object for the initiated (who cussed in delight all the same), the Eau de Parfum mollifies them and warms it up in an almost magical way: no mustiness or animalistic growls ensue, nor are the spices as pronounced, rather the intimacy and muskiness are sustained in a halo of lucid warmth. Some fans of the extrait will find the EDP rather different and it is, but I hope it thus gets another audience who had stumbled finding it "difficult".

Kiki named after Kiki de Montparnasse, the night-butterfly who inspired artists, remains the cuddliest and yummiest lavender in existence. "Although lavender is herbaceous and somewhat medicinal by nature (albeit the user of most commercial mass-market products would be hard pressed to realise that, as it is usually swamped by synthetic vanillin to make it cuddly), in Kiki it is clear and distinct for a long while but never becomes bitter nor unpleasant. The undercurrent of a bodily warmth hides in there and some muskiness that retains the sweet smell of sheets in which you have rolled over with your lover and later eaten on while on a Paris tantalizing naughty trip. It is redolent of sexy but classy lacy underwear in ivory that has been kept in those powdered-scented big cardboard boxes with tissue paper, to be used with the sole intent of getting out of it real soon. And if there is some caramel suryp in the room, it will see good use as well". My senses tell me the Eau de Parfum version of Kiki is the least different from the extrait original and those who already love one should opt for the other with eyes closed. Or maybe if you have one you don't need the other and so here's a little budget for trying out another product of the sleight of hand of ms.Kern's? I don't know, you will be deciding on that. If you want my opinion, leap for a bottle of Rubj Eau de Parfum no matter what you do. Your life (almost) depends on it!

I had rhapsodised on Rubj in the following fashion, even if at the time the indelible and jolting impression of Onda had somewhat sidetracked me from savouring it as fully as I should have had: "The tart and yet sweet peel of mandarin marries the floral essences of carnal jasmine and dusky precious tuberose into a bond that intextricably makes the orange blossom melt with pleasure: Bright halos over the head of a beautiful nymph, warm and cool breeze of a garden at dusk, like Shiekh Nefzaoui's "Perfumed Garden", the forbidden classic of arabic sexuality". In the eau de parfum version of Rubj the woody and musky ambience recedes somewhat while the floral essences take on an intensely fruity, very plummy, really mouthwatering quality that makes it devastantingly irresistible. Of all the scents in the line Rubj impressed me as being the brightest, the shiniest, the most shockingly beautiful in the Eau de Parfum version! Seriously, if you feel like there is a hole in your collection where the heart of a masterpiece fruity floral should beat, don't even think about it twice: Get thee to Vero Profumo in a month or two and grab a bottle of Rubj and thank me later. It's THAT good!

All the fragrances are exquisitely wearable without betraying their identity and as Vero says: "I must say it was very difficult to compose these fragrances but finally I like them. They’re definitely lighter and easier to wear hopefully for a wider public".
The new Vero Profumo Eaux de Parfum at 12% concentration will come as a natural spray and their longevity is very adequate (more than 6 hours on my skin). The launch is estimated for spring 2010 at a much more advantageous price point (thanks to the lesser concentration and the bottling at a small hand-picked artisan factory) and they will be definitely carried at Luckyscent. And rest easy: The Extraits will still be made and be reserved for initiated “Perfume Lovers” on her site.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Vero Kern interview, Onda review, Kiki review, Rubj review, Guerlain's Djedi review

In the interests of full disclosure I was sent 3 sample vials of the scents off the lab by Vero herself.
Pic of Dominique Sanda and Stephania Sandrelli via informadanza.com. Photo of Girls on a Vespa via doarcodavelha.blogspot.com

Pheromone-ladden Body Washes and the Myth of Cumin as Related to Sweat

"Body washes, cosmetics, perfumes, and more all boast of their pheromone contents. There’s just one problem: There is no scientific evidence that people produce or respond to pheromones at all, or that dabbing them on will make you more attractive to potential mates.
This dearth of scientific evidence didn’t dissuade Dial, however. The soap-maker recently released a “pheromone-infused” body wash, then held a speed-dating “experiment” in which nine blindfolded women had to choose between nine men (some had used the wash, some hadn’t) they would go out with in order to 'prove' the wash worked" [...] “We don’t claim using our product you’re going to hit a home run,” said Ryan Gaspar, a [Dial] brand manager. “We say, ‘We’ll get you to first base'." Read the whole article on Discoblog from Discover Magazine.

On the other hand, and far from the lathering board, cumin, an oriental spice of most often Turkish production, has been inumerable times linked to the scent of sweat on online fora and communities. The source of this rumour has been firstly the use of the cumin spice in many classic French perfumes which have a slightly "dirty" undertone starting with Roudnitska creations, the re-issued Femme by Rochas and numerous Jean Claude Ellena compositions; and secondly a quote from the book by Chandler Burr where he likens the smell of cumin to female sweat. Researchers at Firmenich however have disagreed: men's sweat smells of cheese and female sweat smells of onions, according to their research in their Swiss laboratories.

According to an article at the New Scientist: "[...]research in Switzerland involved taking armpit sweat samples from 24 men and 25 women after they had spent time in a sauna or ridden an exercise bike for 15 minutes. The researchers found marked differences in the sweat from men and women. "Men smell of cheese, and women of grapefruit or onion," says Christian Starkenmann of Firmenich, a company in Geneva that researches flavours and perfumes for food and cosmetics companies. The team found that the women's armpit sweat contained relatively high levels of an odourless sulphur-containing compound - 5 milligrams per millilitre of sweat versus 0.5 milligrams in men" , making female perspiration the more "unpleasant" one. Sulphur-rich materials include onions, garlic and grapefruit (which is why so often grapefruit scents can turn "garlicky" and sour on many women). The female sweat had ten times the level of an odorless sulphur-containing compound than men. It turns out that when this ingredient interacts with bacteria present in the axilla, it creates a chemical called thiol—which is the cuplrit for smelling like onions. Men had increased levels of an odorless fatty acid, which gives off a cheesy smell once it mixes with the armpit bacteria.

Incidentally experiements as to the attractive properties of androstenone secreted into male sweat have proven that clean sweat from men at a reproductive age is considered attractive to a substantial segment of the screening subjects.
Your cumin-containing fragrances can be absolved, ladies!!

Cumin (Cuminum cyminum) however is a fascinating material for perfumery indeed: almost green and aromatic on one end, very warm and aniseed-faceted on the other end. It is no wonder that Pharaohs, ancient Greeks and Romans all prized it for its rich aroma and its stabilising aromatherapy properties. One imaginative tradition wants newlyweds sharing a cumin-laced tisane as a means to ensure stability in their marriage.
The oil comes from steam distillation of the dried and ground seeds of the small annual plant that blossoms at the border of the Mediterranean, in China, and in India (the latter is the largest provider of black cumin, a more powerful variant from Northern Kashmir, which is prized in North Indian dishes and is frequently featured in the Garam Marsala sweet spice mix). It is frequently featured in men's perfumes to offset lighter notes and it imparts a wonderful carnality in feminine fragrances. It being a great divider, however, several people find a prominent note of cumin too foody or too "dirty", so sampling is definitely recommended for the following list of fragrances containing it.

Please also refer to my What are Animalic & "Skanky"-Called Fragrances Anyway article for more details. 

Notable Perfumes Containing Cumin (with an asterisk, when prominent):
Links below redirect to full reviews
Alexander Mac Queen Kingdom (*)
Amouage Jubilation 25 (*)
Aramis Havana for MenAramis Tuscany Forte (*)
Bobo Dinner (*)
Bond No.9 Andy Warhol's Lexington Avenue
Cartier Déclaration (*)
Clarins Eau DynamisanteComme des Garcons Stephen Jones
Comme des Garcons 2 (*)
D&G 11 La Force
Dior Diorella (*)
Dior Jules (*)
Diptyque L'Autre (*)
Frapin Caravelle Epicée
Frapin Terre de SarmentGiorgio Beverly Hills Red for Men
Gucci Eau de Parfum I (2002, brown juice, square bottle) (*)
Hermès Eau d'Hermès (*)
Histoires des Parfums 1876Jacques Fath Green WaterJean Paul Gaultier Le MâleKenzo Jungle L'Eléphant (*)
Le Labo Rose 31
Maison Francis Kurkdjian Absolue pour le Soir (*)
Parfum d'Empire Aziyadé
Patricia de Nicolai Vétyver
Penhaligon's Amaranthine (*)
Ralph Lauren PoloRalph Lauren Polo CrestRochas Femme ~NB. the reformulated 80s version (*)
Serge Lutens Arabie
Serge Lutens Chêne
Serge Lutens El Attarine (*)
Serge Lutens Fleurs d'Oranger (*)
Serge Lutens Serge Noire (*)
The Different Company Rose Poivrée ~NB.before the latest 2008 reformulation (*)
Vero Profumo RubjVersace White JeansYves Saint Laurent YvressePic via fitho.in

Perfumes the Guide by Turin and Sanchez: sneak preview and review

The perfume guide being written by odor guru Luca Turin with co-author and his newlywed Tania Sanchez was shrouded in mystery for some time. It has been 15 years since Turin had penned the original, now out-of-print Parfums, Le Guide in French. Since then the eruption of the Internet made English-reading audiences thirsty for his erudition, sporadically catered for through his NZZ Folio column and defunct blog. Finally this new guide is fast approaching. I received my copy in advance and I am in the position to tell you that it is a good read! Perfume Shrine is in fact the first perfume blog to post an actual review of the new Guide.

Although it claims to be “the definitive guide to the world of perfume”, I find that such a task is so monumental in its scope that it might as well be awarded the Everest-climbing seal of effort. It’s simply a Titan feat to accomplish! However, Perfumes the Guide impressed me as being a very pleasurable guide through the opacity of perfume shopping, low on the purple-o-Meter and more importantly one that does not require a former education on the subject while being scientifically elucidating.

How does the book "flow"?
Luca continues to write in his familiar vernacular (references to classical music and sports cars abound) that manages to be witty and caustic most of the time, even if one disagrees, with the admirable trait of laconic delivery. The latter should serve as a lesson to my anal-retentive habit of elaborating on any possible historical minutiae when writing myself.
Tania seems to have also benefited from her stint as editor-cum-muse, not having forgotten her Makeup Alley roots which she credits. Her writing is removed from previous exaggerations and is to the point, sometimes rivaling her prototype in acerbity and realism. They alternatively (identified by initials) take on almost 1500 fragrances -per the book jacket- circulating in department stores, drugstores and niche boutiques today. Something at every price point. The system is easy and relies on a 5 star point scale (from 1 for awful to 5 for masterpiece) ~which is to be expected in any product qualitatively measured these days. Wine appreciation guides as well as cinephile sites have contributed to this system becoming increasingly common. It will do.

The structure of the book is divided into uneven parts:

1. The brief introduction by TS focuses on how perfume is part of culture and criticism is inherent in any art form ~ergo in perfume as well, and everyone should get used to it
2. Essay on how to choose fragrances for oneself and for the occassion
3. Essay on why would men want to wear scent and categories of masculine fragrances with impromptu, fun names like "Lawrence of Arabia" for orientals
4. A brief introduction to the history of modern perfumes' emergence, which to LT is inextricably tied to the rise in synthetics. Somehow like a brick off his previous book but informative.
5. Some answers to frequently asked elementary questions, one of which is the perennial “skin chemistry” affecting fragrances (the short answer is "not really")
6. The reviews, which take the huge bulk of the book in easy to follow alphabetical order
7. A very brief glossary of terms
8. Top ten lists in the categories of: best feminines, best masculines, best cross-gender choices, best picks from floral, chypre and oriental families and the innovatively intelligent best quiet and best loud fragrances; as an epilogue an index by star-rating of all the fragrances reviewed.

What I enjoyed:

~The to-the-point monikers beside the perfumes, instead of general classifications which usually prove so pointless to the reader. Instead the two-word descriptors are uncunningly accurate most of the time. Those range from the merely descriptive (“rasberry vanilla” for Armani Diamonds) to the outright dismissive (“nasty floral” for Bright Crystal by Versace or “fruity death” for Nanette Lepore), through the poetically inclined (“angry rose” for Malle’s Une Rose or “snowy floral” for Pleasures) and the iconically untouchables (“reference vetiver” for Guerlain’s).
I had much fun with the “not X” and “not Y” descriptors besides perfumes which are actually named X or Y something. It is so true, it’s hilarious! It’s refreshing to see that Lauder's Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia gets the “true gardenia” descriptor, because hey, it does smell like it and making it into the best florals category.

~That no perfume is spared based on its former laurels. This is a personal pet peeve of mine, I admit, when reading perfume criticism online; especially on perfume blogs and fora. Too often the illustrious reputation and history of a fragrance earn it a state of grace that is completely undeserved in its present formulation. To their credit, LT and TS dismember each and every one of those old beauties and see just how successful the facelift was: Are there any visible scars? Forehead immovable? Eyes not going beyond the perpetually surprised? Oh, it’s breathing and smiling again, there’s a dear! Or is it terminally confined to Joan-Rivers-land? It’s a great misfortune that the majority belongs to the latter category. Caron fans are in for a bumby landing!

~That two indie perfumers (and people who are trully sweet) received accolades for their work in this tome: Andy Tauer, mainly for his superb L’air du desert marocain (which earned the masterpiece 5-star award, with honorable mentions for Le Maroc, Rêverie and Lonestar Memories). And Vero Kern whose Onda, Kiki and Rubj received each 4 stars. For someone who is mentioned as coming initially from aromatherapy (a no-no obviously in LT’s books), this is not just high praise, it’s being toured round Zeus for the first time ever. Bravo Vero!

~That Luca Turin has relaxed his stance against perfumes that use only natural essences and included creations by Dominique Dubrana, who will be featured on these pages soon. A small step for one man; a huge step for a whole artistic movement.

What I did not like as much:

~The impression that fragrances created by friend perfumers are seemingly described in more raptured tones. The fact that some of those perfumers are actually mentioned as friends leaves a little bit of hesitancy to the reader in ingesting the opinion proferred. Not that I doubt the best possible intentions, mind you.

~The idolatry surrounding most of Sophia Grojsman’s scents down to 100% Love (formely known as the artwork named S-Love). Do I read her referred to as trismegista? I can’t explain why. I trust it does not fall under the previous category. The comparable disparagement of Jean Claude Ellena’s and Olivia Giacobetti's aesthetic with sporadic exceptions.
Celebrity deathmatch indeed of two diametrically antithetical worlds.

~In fact there is a tendency of formed opinion regarding brands more than individual perfumes (By Killian is "good" while Le Labo is "bad", although to me they seem to be equally poseurs). I might attribute that to opinion on the concept of a line, however.

~The glossary provided is very poor in a guide that purpots to be “the definitive” one. Perhaps they meant it as a help through the lingo used throughout the reviews. For the perfume enthusiast it is formulaic and not offering anything new.


In essence (pun intended), Perfumes The Guide is not going the exposé route that Chandler Burr did with his The Perfect Scent and therefore perfume lovers will not find out as many revelations either, but it is an absorbing, very entertaining read that will be referenced from now on on every possible online venue. Rookies especially will have a field day with the latter activity (bound to grate on the nerves of the rest of us). More seasoned perfumephiles can disagree from time to time... Oh and Luca, please drop the Keen fishing sandals over socks.

Perfumes the Guide is officially coming out on April 10. You can preorder it clicking Perfumes: The Guide

Pic of book jacket courtesy of Amazon, pic of LT and TS courtesy of the perfume pilgrim. Pic from the Terry Gilliam 1985 film Brazil courtesy of filmforum.org

Interview with a perfumer: Vero Kern from Vero Profumo

It was with the greatest pleasure that I introduced you to the new exclusive perfumes by niche swiss line Vero Profumo a while back here on Perfume Shrine. Today it is my even greater excitment to introduce you to their creator: the masterful Vero Kern, a lady of high olfactory pedigree who agreeded to an interview for the reading pleasure of Perfume Shrine's many readers. Vero with her long salt and pepper hair and her deep gaze that denotes a wise soul is a sight to behold. Her attention to detail and her hesitation regarding correct use of english were endearing to me. I assured her that we would be thrilled to know what's on her mind. And so, here we are!


PS: Hello Vero! You are a relative newcomer to this world, yet your perfumes denote complexity and experience. Could you care to explain how this happened?

VK: Hello! I started my perfumery career almost ten years ago. And I’m working with aroma material for twenty years now. The desire to create perfumes was strongly rising during my aromatological training and the final decision for this to be shortly ten-years-passionate-love-affair was above all a distinct curiosity, even a straight on Faszinosum on scent phenomena, but also a great zeal to know and learn all. For almost two years I was making the itinerary Zurich-Paris and back once a month. There, in the same school where Lyn Harris {of Miller&Harris} also went, I was initiated in the secrets of classical perfumery. I‘m blending with natural and synthetic essences. So absolutely novel and most important for me was to learn all about synthetics.
Creating perfumes in a classical way as I do needs a lot of time, patience, endurance and many, many tries until the definitive product is born. Complexity in perfumery requires besides technical know-how also imagination, intuition and some shameless artistic liberty to bring up important influences in material choice, accent setting and originality.

PS:Your aromachologist background means that there is some sort of spiritual appreciation of the energy of living things. You work with naturals. Myself I find that fascinating and quite hard. Do you think that more traditional perfumes as opposed to simple aromachological blends are also beneficial in providing health and mood benefits?

VK: The sense of smell is linked with our limbic system that controls our feelings and emotions. So I believe that all smelling things provide an emotional reaction: To like it or not to like it - here is the question. I think that enjoyable and enchanting smell experiences, no matter the original resource, always create great mood benefits.
Blending my perfumes in a more traditional way was 100% an artistic and aesthetic decision.

PS: You know, I got the mood elevating vibe especially from your Rubj{click here for review}. Was this intentional when creating the scent or just a pleasant side-effect?

VK: It wasn’t intentional at all, but I’ m very pleased if you tell me so. Creating rubj, I had something like a very erotic skin scent in mind. Finally it ended up with the combo of almost narcotic Orange blossom absolute, sensual musk and Jasmine. Could also be a scent for Lovers - urban Lovers - like this couple, that are stranded in this small downtown hotel-bed and watching there lovely beach sunsets on a pink portable TV. {she laughs} I had this kind of frantasy while creating. {laughs some more}. This scent blooms wonderfully on sun-kissed summer skins.

PS: I can very well visualise that. {I am also bursting with mirth now}
Now, a question I always ask when dealing with perfumers ~ do you find that the quality of the ingredients is of lesser, equal or greater importance than the innovation or beauty of the formula? In short: could one create great art with paints or great music with garbage like Stomp do, if we translate the concept in perfumery? Or is this impossible?

VK: The combination of movement, percussion and comedy in a new, innovative and never seen before performance is really unique. Unique artwork needs innovative ideas, the right material going with, techniques and the ability to transfer that into creation.
To translate the Stomp concept into today’s perfumery is very difficult. Most of today’s perfumes, including some niche products, are drawn up for global markets. Global marketing goes with global advertising. The advertising costs must be tremendous and innovation is required and focused on all kind of concepts. I think they can’t be too artistic thus. I never went too deep in this, but it would be very interesting to hear from an industrial perfumer how this works in reality.
Basically, I believe, that a beautifully touching-you-and-me perfume formula, can only be achieved by using high quality material AND innovative new ideas - in both, concept and creation. Consequently this demands a more complicated, longer development and production and that also has its price.
It’s my fervent intention to create beautiful scents - scents with soul. I think soulful scents bear a unique secret.

{At this point I am almost swooning, this is such a beautiful thought...}

PS: Onda {click here for review}is a very unusual and daring composition with a deeply animalic tonality. Do you think people nowadays are ready to move on from the cult of the clean and venture again in the Napoleonic decadence of musk and richness? I see the pendulum swinging myself, but I want your expert opinion.

VK: Apparently the sense of smell is the sense of paradoxes. Paradoxical and ambiguous, it’s the sense of the refinement and the animal, the brutish. This sense also evokes strong emotions, moods and impressions. Working with scented materials creates the most bizarre pictures in my head. Onda is a good example. The original idea was to create a leathery Vetiver surrounded by flowery and chypre notes and I had a fantasy like this going with:
Isabella Rossellini as mystery Dorothy Vallens, wearing this beautiful blue velvet gown, and Johhny Depp as Ed Wood wearing Glenda’s {from the character "Glen or Glenda" film by Ed Wood}sexy glamorous white-haired wig, dancing together a very slow Tango Argentino at Manhattan Roseland Ballroom.{she laughs at the image}
A divine picture, but unfortunately the material didn’t match with. LOL… I had to find some other lines… and so on.

{I am laughing playfully at this fabulous image myself! What a concept!}

To come back to your question, I think the little naughty animalist or erotic touch in my creations is more a kind of signature or personal preference than a marketing decision. Actually the clean watery concept never did interest me much. “Clean smell” means to me a beautiful big Olive-oil Soap coming direct from Aleppo, Syria - not perfumed at all.
I don’t know if time is ready for more daring styled scents. But with the latest perfume launches ~I refer to the very dark Tom Ford Private Selection or the soon up coming dark Sarrasins by Serge Lutens~ there might be “something” going on in this direction. We have to wait and see.


PS: Since we are on that note, as you brought up two very different concepts, do you perceive a difference of aesthetics between American and European fragrance audiences? How would you define it?

VK: I am still trying to find out possible differences. Comparing to the very active US perfumery forums, I couldn’t find much similar European ones so far. So it’s difficult to give a clear statement about this. Maybe Americans dream sometimes of naughty animalic scents, but in reality they prefer to buy more fresh, glamorous fragrances. What I can see in all these audiences is the phenomena that everybody is constantly hungry for new staff showing up. Heated up by fancy media advertising they create a big hype ~almost hysteria~ around a new product and suddenly it’s all gone again - Nada Mas. Amazing!

PS: I can't help but agree with you. It's terrifying how quickly they churn out new products! But enough of that.....I read that you trained under the great Guy Robert. How was this experience for you and do you find it has influenced your style? How would you describe your own style?

VK: Guy Robert was of great help for me. I first met him years ago in Paris at his latest book promotion: Les Sens du Parfum. His book was something like a professional highlight for me and has certainly influenced my composing and styling. Later we corresponded. I sent him my mods to judge and he gave me useful feedback and tips on them. He also encouraged me during the long development process, but he was never "teaching" me. He is a kind of spiritus rector and a mentor for me, I’m very thankful for his help.
To describe my own style is very difficult. Using rare high quality raw material, for instance the natural Ambre Gris and other precious stuff, as well as handmade techniques, I might consider them as New Traditional for Connoisseurs.

PS: And so they are! Are there any perfumes from other noses that you admire and revere and which ones are those?

VK: Once a year I travel to the Osmothèque at Versailles to study the great compositions of the perfume Giants. I love and wear the following Extraits de parfum: Jicky Guerlain, Tabac Blond Caron, Shocking Shiaparelli, and Fracas Piguet.
The styles of Aimé, Jacques and Jean-Paul Guerlain, Ernest Daltroff, Jean Carles and Germaine Cellier have effectively influenced my own creations.

PS: Vero, what are your plans for the line in the future? Regarding additions, possible limited editions, distribution and positioning?

VK: My perfumes have only just a few weeks that have come out and of course I still have to work on promoting. Also, for better customer service I’ll provide in the coming weeks some shop facilities - on the website as well as here, at the home base. Continuation on the line is planned for sure and I have some ideas but can’t go in details yet. Limited editions are definitely not my thing! The scents will be positioned as Premium perfumes with a few selective selling points worldwide.

PS: Thank you Vero for a most elucidating interview.

VK: And thank you as well.


As we part our ways, I can see that Vero will soon be the talk of the town and not just that either. Her line will debut in the US in 2008. You have ample time to take notes and make your sniffing lists.



Pic of Vero Kern and bottle of Rubj provided by Vero Kern
Pic of Johhny Depp courtesy of johhnydeppfan.com

Vero profumo line ~Rubj: fragrance review

It is rather a sad feeling when one has completed a certain "portfolio" of work only to stumble upon something that could have been included with much aplomb but wasn't. Short of time travelling and going à rebours, this is unmanageable. Yet there is a sort of enfin revelation, a smack on the forehead kind of light bulbs going on over your head as you realise that the recent discovery is the sum of all parts that were existing in the project.
If this is sounding much too cryptic I am talking of course about my Orange Blossom homage on the blog and the recent sampling of Rubj by Vero Kern for the Vero Profumo line of niche fragrances, based in Switzerland.

Rubj is based on orange blossom, then. Not just any orange blossom, though, but the precious absolute, the thing that drips of honeyed thighs and heavy sighs and is redolent of the happiest holiday memories under groves of trees in the south. Its richness and opulence is the epitome of what an expensive, natural, clear and sonorous voice of an Hesperide can be.
If Fleurs d'oranger by Serge Lutens is a lady sitting in an orchard contemplating serious romance, then Rubj is her adversary of equal spiritual and physical magnitude.
The tart and yet sweet peel of mandarin marries the floral essences of carnal jasmine and dusky precious tuberose into a bond that intextricably makes the orange blossom melt with pleasure. Bright halos over the head of a beautiful nymph, warm and cool breeze of a garden at dusk, like Shiekh Nefzaoui's "Perfumed Garden", the forbidden classic of arabic sexuality.

"If one looks at a woman with those qualities in front, one is fascinated; if from behind, one dies with pleasure. Looked at sitting, she is a rounded dome; lying, a soft-bed; standing, the staff of a standard. When she is walking, her natural parts appear as set off under her clothing. She speaks and laughs rarely, and never without a reason.
She is not treacherous, and has no faults to hide, nor bad reasons to proffer. She does not try to entice people.
she is always elegantly attired, of the utmost personal propriety, and takes care not to let her husband see what might be repugnant to him. She perfumes herself with scents, uses antimony for her toilets, and cleans her teeth with souak.

Such a woman is cherished by all men".

As the citrusy tang of the day is slowly retreating into the approaching evening, the warmth of light musk and wood enters the equation to whisper of comfort, humanity and the plush of petals trailed on the skin of a soft arm, absent mindedly amidst a conversation that is going on all the while with an intent that smoulders, lasting for a long long time like a prolonged foreplay that is sure to end in fireworks.

The orange blossom absolute in Rubj comes from Morocco while the jasmine essence is of egyptian origin. The spirit of the South at your beck and call, at a precious drop of extrait de parfum from the curvaceous bottle.


Vero Profumo fragrances can be sampled/bought in Switzerland and neighbouring countries through the site. You can also contact Vero at profumo@veroprofumo.com.
Plans to bring the line to the US are scheduled for mid 2008.
Prices for Rubj extrait de parfum are 105 euros for 7.5ml and 165 euros for 15ml.


Pic of actress Indira Varma from imdb.
Art piece Au point du jour by David Graux courtesy of allposters.com

Vero profumo line ~Kiki: fragrance review

The new niche line I have promised you is none other than Vero Profumo, the spiritual child of Vero Kern, a Switzerland based aromatologist and Paris trained perfumer under the mentoring of none other than famous legend Guy Robert.
I was immensely flattered to find that Vero had been browsing my blog from time to time and as conversation about perfume has a way of broadening horizons and make leaps into the territory of the unknown, I came to virtually meet this kind, eloquent, thoughtful person and try out the precious perfumes.

The introduction that is offered on the impressive and quite artistic site (click here to take a look) is very telling of the motivation that exists behind any intelligent, artful creation. Because perfumery is commerce, but in this day and age we so often forget that it is also an art form: something that does not take account so much the name, the image, the advertising budget and subsequent campaign as the topmost qualities to determine the impact of a scent in the market, but also a product that can bring elation and beauty in one's life at the spritz of an atomiser. As Vero so rightfully says:

"Fragrances and aromas are with us all the time, wherever we go. They can touch us emotionally, even seduce us, and they influence our wellbeing.
Perfume is more than a temporary accessory. It is an unseen "calling card" representing your personality. An imaginary embrace, a "folie a deux" or maybe even a liaison dangereuse. A "je ne sais quoi" that follows like the tail follows a comet".

Indeed unravelling the ties that make up a beautiful composition is like opening up an oyster to find a luminous pearl hidden inside; hidden from the world for the delectation it seems of an inward need. Vero uses precious essences and natural compounds as much as possible realising that the quinta essentia that those materials harbour in their core is accounting for a richer, more multi-nuanced experience than the one rendered by only aromachemicals as is the case with most mainstream perfumery. Of course the synthetic molecules out of a lab can also be used to great aplomb and in this line they are not excluded, but they do not take center stage; rather aid the main act like a chorus in ancient drama ~echoing the main theme, commenting subtly on the protagonists, offering some coaxing when needed.
Her line of perfumes includes three loveable creations in extrait de parfum concentration that captured me in varying degrees: Kiki, Onda and Rubj. Each individual and unique, yet all bonded by an artistic signature that accounts for a certain style through the line. And that is usually the mark of someone who knows what they're doing.
There is a desire to revert to the classicism of yore that provided masterpieces that endure, yet seen through a modern look that makes them awaken the emotions of a contemporary sensibility.

It is in this context that I came upon Kiki, a precious gem of a perfume that has me hooked and hankering for a note that I am usually averse to: namely, lavender. As readers of PerfumeShrine may recall, Andy Tauer's Rêverie au Jardin is one of the few lavender scents that have managed to capture my heart exactly because he managed to render a soft embrace out of it, caressed in a warm scarf worn around the neck on a cool evening strolling along a peaceful garden with a loved one.

If Andy's lavender is a casual, feel good scent that is to be shared with your long-time lover while holding hands and breathing the evening provencial air, making dreams about the eminent future, envisioning a cozy existence of loving sharing, Kiki is more extroverted and naughty signifying the attitude of an illicit couple out for a good time in the city of Light, Paris.
Although lavender is herbaceous and somewhat medicinal by nature (albeit the user of most commercial mass-market products would be hard pressed to realise that, as it is usually swamped by synthetic vanillin to make it cuddly), in Kiki it is clear and distinct for a long while but never becomes bitter nor unpleasant. The undercurrent of a bodily warmth hides in there and some muskiness that retains the sweet smell of sheets in which you have rolled over with your lover and later eaten on while on a Paris tantalizing naughty trip. It is redolent of sexy but classy lacy underwear in ivory that has been kept in those powdered-scented big cardboard boxes with tissue paper, to be used with the sole intent of getting out of it real soon. And if there is some caramel suryp in the room, it will see good use as well.

As the scent progresses interweaving elements of slightly sweet fruity notes that do not overwhelm it becomes intoxicating, like a promenade along the Rive Gauche and the Monmarte, trying to visualise the infamous Kiki de Montparnasse (real name Alice Prin) and her crazy 1920s days: a model, a lover, a nightime queen.
The lasting power and sillage are amazing, as this wafts caramely whiffs with powdery opoponax-patchouli accords throughout the day and into the night, whispering sweet nothings into the ear of the object of a dangerous and irresistible affair. As it can be shared by both sexes, it becomes a memento of a time spent in pure sensualism and pleasure in the big city. Who would have thought that when saying "lavender"? I knew you wouldn't be able to come up with an answer to that one...



Vero Profumo fragrances can be sampled/bought in Switzerland and neighbouring countries through the site. You can also contact Vero at profumo@veroprofumo.com.
Plans to bring the line to the US are scheduled for mid 2008.
Prices for Kiki extrait de parfum are 105 euros for 7.5ml and 165 euros for 15ml.


Next post will tackle another Vero Kern perfume.



Top pic from film Hors de Prix, courtesy of athinorama.gr
Pic of Kiki courtesy of kaismart.com/journal