Penhaligon's Babylon: fragrance review

 
Babylon is a quite a "new and now" launch  by Penhaligon's, a Harrods' exclusive till January 2021, but I was lucky enough to secure some and am wearing it right now to better grasp its messages. By no means revolutionary, this spicy oriental feels like the polished woods of Duchaufour's compositions that have made an indelible impression to the world of upscale perfumery. Cypriol oil (known also as nagarmotha in southeastern Asia) dominates. You might recognize it from the oddly and unjustly doomed Magnifique by Lancome (2008) or from the critically acclaimed Timbuktu by L'Artisan Parfumeur (2004). In Babylon it's sweetened and caressed in warm, soft milky notes and vanilla, with an undertone of spices, of which saffron gives a subtle iodine touch. It's evocative of autumnal joys and middle-eastern images.

 

Housed in Penhaligon's distinctive ribbon-wrapped glass flacon, and full of saturated tones of warm red, teal and gold, the till now obscure Babylon eau de parfum enters the scene in big strides. It takes inspiration from Eastern spices to create an oriental scent, part of the Trade Routes Collection inspired by popular stop-overs on the Silk Route.

This is probably thought of as part of a grander plan of the company owning the brand; reaching out to people who shop for gifts at luxury stop-overs to and from the Emirates and/or other luxurious destinations. There the airport boutiques are decked to the nines in gold and gilt. The collection has therefore "Arabian perfumery style" written all over it. Halfeti was one I reviewed in the past and I like it, but I think Babylon is even more to my style.

 

I would have liked it to be more conceptual, as the potential is there for sure, but the execution is nevertheless flawless.Babylon eau de parfum is delicious and persistent and is felt like a confident aura rising from the skin. It possesses that alluring quality that Ambre Narguile (Hermessences) and Spicebomb Extreme (Viktor & Rolf) also exude, particularly that smoky warmth, beckoning you closer to better fill your receptive olfactory organ with the evaporating goodness.

The beautiful whiskey-like color of the liquid is darker than shown in pictures and beautifully matches the scent; it's as if you're led to take a sip of a rich liquor and get intoxicated, while reading an oriental cylindric seal depicting the lord god Marduc.

Neela Vermeire Creations Pichola: fragrance review

The impressionistic school of perfumery seldom fails to fall victim of one or two cardinal sins. Either it won't replicate the received impression we, the audience, have of a particular referent (perversely enough there seems to be a collective "idea" of how particular places & things smell like), resulting in  confusion, despite adhering to the definition of the artistic term. Or the clarity of structure will be subordinate to the "harmonic" effects resulting in something that "falls apart on the blotter", as perfumers say. Not so with Pichola, the latest fragrance launch by the cult favorite niche fragrance brand Neela Vermeire Creations, overseen by a true perfumephile, its founder and guiding force, i.e. Neela, and composed by the steady hand of independent perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour.

Rie Rasmussen, Vogue UK December 2005, photographed by Norbert Schroeder via

Pichola was inspired by Lake Pichola in India, since the canon of Neela Vermeire Creations draw inspiration from the peninsula. But fear not, ye armchair traveler of little faith in your abilities of envisioning vast expanses of water with flowing flowers. Much as Pichola draws elements from the impressive scenery it is not a carte postale style of fragrance for Americans in need of issuing a passport. As Carson McCullers put it "We are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most of the places we have never known..."

Pichola is not a travel "selfie". This shape shifter of a fragrance has backbone, finesse and above all the charm that makes a fragrance go beyond the mere pretty into addictive.

It impressed me in that I have tried the scent three times and Pichola performed differently on ALL three occasions, which hasn't really happened before. You can blame it on Rio, I guess, but I did find that the temperature of my skin brought to the surface different elements.  The first time Pichola by Neela Vermeire projected as an intensely white floral with a cleaned up jasmine and orange blossom, plus a budding gardenia note. It gave me a nod of Pure Poison, to be honest, which was impressive since that one is a very loud (albeit beautiful perfume) and not  Bertrand Duchaufour's "style" (who is more subdued and much less obvious).
On the second testing Pichola was much milkier white floral and had a green-husks velvety touch floating about, like coconut and fig leaf (stemone, massoia lactone, something along those two lines) which did remind me of Duchaufour and his masterful translation of earthy tones and woody notes, such as in L'Artisan's Timbuktu. Third time it was distinctly orange blossom and lush, scrumptious but not really indolic tuberose, plus a sandalwood milkiness chased by a huge clean musk note.

This creature purred...and I purred with delight over it.


Fragrance Notes for Neela Vermeire Creations Pichola:
Top Notes
Neroli, Clementine, Bergamot, Cardamom, Cinnamon, Saffron, Juniper, Magnolia
Heart Notes
Orange blossom, Rose, Tuberose, Jasmine sambac, Ylang ylang
Base notes
Haitian vetiver, Benzoin, Sandalwood , Driftwood

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Neela Vermeire Fragrance Reviews & News: Trayee, Mohur, Bombay Bling
"Creamy" fragrances: scents of rich clotted cream 
Indolic vs. Non Indolic: White Florals of Passion
The Jasmine Series: Perfumes highlighting the King of Flowers

Neela Vermeire Creations Trayee: fragrance review

Incense has long been not only one of the badges of niche perfumery, but also one of my own personal hot buttons, so it sounds both logical and anticipatory that a fledging niche line would want to include a declination of the genre in their wares. But when said genre is harnessed by perfumers of the calibre of Bertrand Duchaufour and infused with the phantasmagoria which must be Neela Vermeire's  creativity  then the resulting fragrance feels the way a kanchipuram saree looks: intricate, ever changing effect when the journey of the light, beautiful. Trayee (pronounced try-ee) is much more than an incense blend, which is no mean feat, given that incense is a difficult material to work with in the first place. But its intricate treatment must endear it to aficionados.

via wikimedia commons

Trayee is part of the original trio of fragrances issued by Neela Vermeire Créations which also includes Mohur and Bombay Bling (the fourth instalment, Ashoka, is launching soon). These Indian inspired perfumes, like Chants of India, draw upon the tradition, history and cultural milieu of that vast Eastern sub-continent in which Neela herself has roots. With Trayee rooted in the Vedic tradition (and utilizing several of the materials mentioned in the holy texts) I was instantly brought back to my university freshman year, when World Civilization was on the agenda under a highly idiosyncratic professor, himself the embodiment of intertextuality & erudition. That was the time when I briefly entertained the idea of learning Sanskrit, though it soon transpired it'd be full time job. But such was the pull that the the Sutras and the Ramayana and their colorful, conflicted and spiritual world had exerted on me and some of my fellow students.

I'm saying all this to atone for coming extremely late to the buzz around Neela Vermeire's creations, having had compartmentalized the perfumes in the "one day" mental drawer. That day came when Neela and I reconnected via Twitter. I say "reconnected" because Neela was, like me, part of the old guard of Makeup Alley: she has a genuinely lovely personality that leaps off the page and a deep knowledge of the Paris perfume scene where she used to organize visiting trips for perfumephiles.
All this intro would read like an apologetic text on a personal blog placating her feelings, had the fragrances been duds; but they assuredly are NOT duds -far from it. Not only are they intellectually stimulating and multi-nuanced, they combine the rich tapestry of colors that is the Indian peninsula with a very Parisian sensibility. These are truly "transparent orientals", modern and wearable, and therefore it comes as no surprise that Neela commissioned Bertrand Duchaufour to compose them for her niche line.

Trayee is much more than a simple incense blend, fusing the mystical with the sensual and the cerebral, like a trimūrti framework for the divine. This is reflected via the "notes" chosen for Trayee which comprise a wide spectrum, from the bittersweet facets of myrrh & musty oud, to the tried & true Indian fusion of sandalwood and jasmine all the way through the stimulating piquancy of spicy, stimulating notes (rich in eugenol). There is a dusty, grassy, cannabis-herbal accord which is close to the muddy feel of Timbuktu for L'Artisan Parfumeur, also by Duchaufour; not surprisingly, the interplay of earthy spices, mysterious blossoms and murrh & vetiver are present in both. Trayee comes across as somehow muskier, leathery, with a more peppery tang and a fully executed resinous, balsamic arc that recalls the smokiness of Annick Goutal's Encens Flamboyant. Trayee feels like rivulets of sweetish white smoke rising from a polished ceramic basin unto the blue skies, its dissipation unto the air gradual and mind-altering.



Neela Vermeire Creations Trayee notes:
Blue ginger, elemi, cinnamon, ganja accord, blackcurrant absolute, basil, jasmine sambac, Egyptian jasmine, cardamom absolute, clove, saffron, Javanese and Haitian vetiver, incense, Mysore sandalwood oil, patchouli, myrrh, vanilla, cedar, amber notes, oud palao from Laos, oak moss.

Trayee is available as an Eau de Parfum 55ml (in refillable flacons), available at select stockists and on www.neelavermeire.com, where you can find a discovery set.

Disclosure: I was sent a sample by Neela. 

The Smell of the Earth After the Rain: Geosmin, Petrichor & Other Wonders

The first heavy drops of rain fell on the thirsty ground yesterday after a hot, hot summer that scorched our conscience. It seemed like release, like tears falling after a gigantic pressure mounting inside that had overflown, ready to burst.

"With the first drop of rain the summer was killed. Soaked were the words which starlight had born. Words that were meant just for you." writes Odysseas Elytis. 

This sweet melancholy of autumn is inextricably tied to the pit pat of the raindrops on the window pane, much as it sounds corny. Like many, I adore the ambience after the rain; when everything seems washed, purged, the green leaves and flowers shiny fresh with droplets hanging onto them refracted into myriads of rainbows in the emerging light; with the distinct smell of the earth that has soaked the water and brought out a scent at once musty and refreshing, a scent that is ancient and at the same time of the moment, galvanizing, a scent of the divine and the pagan. But what makes that delicious scent, popular enough to be first unapologetically encapsulated into a fragrance to sell by Christopher Brosius in his Fragrance Library for Demeter by the eerie name "Dirt"? The answer is more enjoyably lyrical.

via http://lifeofpri.blogspot.com

Petrichor is the name of the scent of rain on dry earth, which aided by the compound geosmin contributes to that delectable ambience of upturned earth and musty deliciousness which walkers of the woods have been known to enjoy with all their might. Due to poetic justice, I suppose, and because everything is paid upon at the cashier eventually in this world, both words have a Greek origin: "Petrichor" literally means the fluid in the veins of the gods hitting stone (from the words πέτρα i.e. stone and ιχώρ i.e. the mythical lifeblood of the Gods). "Geosmin" is simpler, more to the point: from the Greek word for earth, γαία (deriv. γεο-) and οσμήν i.e. smell; simply put, "the smell of the earth". The term "petrichor" was coined in 1964 by two Australian researchers, Bear and Thomas, for an article in the scientific journal Nature. In their article, it is argued that certain plants exude an oil during dry periods which is then absorbed by clay-based soils and by rock. The hitting of the ground during the rain releases this oil alongside geosmin, a germacranoid sesquiterpene or a trans-1,10-dimethyl-trans-9-decalol for the more chemically minded ~or simply a by-product of microorganisms, which acts as a metabolite.

Geosmin is produced by a number of microorganisms amongst which the mycelial soil bacteria Streptomyces. Geosmin is exactly that distinct smell that soil gives off when disturbed or just rained upon and its human detection threshold is so low (allowing almost all to savor it) and so pleasant, it is used to confer an earthy scent to perfumes! But careful: in flavor, by contrast, geosmin can turn a glass of water or wine (or fruits or vegetables) musty and unpleasant for consumption. Even lightning contributes to the scent of the earth after the rain nevertheless; the presence of ozone is electrifying, producing that energetic, come what may, putting on boots and clutching a cane walk in the woods mood one doesn't know they had in them until it actually happens. This is the magic turn of the screw that makes fragrances such as Creed's classic Green Irish Tweed (with the infinitely matching name to this fervent desire) and the quirky enchanted forest of Ormonde Woman work so well.

Several perfumers try to recreate that complex smell of the forest floor; upturned, a little decayed, yet at the same time fresh, cooling, a sort of clean all the same. Great vetiver fragrances, such as Guerlain's classic Vetiver and Vetiver pour Elle, Route du Vetiver by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier , Chanel's Sycomore, Lalique Encre Noire or F.Malle's Vetiver Extraordinaire mingle that particular freshness that the exotic grass root of vetiver possesses alongside a smokier, mustier background which brings on a crepuscular tinge. Some patchouli fragrances, notably Voleur de Roses by L'Artisan Parfumeur utilize the more wine-like facets of the rose and the Indian leaf material to render a scent that approximates well a garden after the rain. Herbal accents and iris notes alongside grassy-musty ingredients (such as vetiver, angelica, wormwood or oakmoss) also produce this effect as in Roadster by Cartier, L'Artisan Parfumeur Timbuktu, the stupendous Derby by Guerlain, Angeliques sous la Pluie (F.Malle) and Dior Homme.

It's interesting to note that geosmin doesn't just contribute to the smelly landscape but could be a way of promoting sporulation as it occurs where humidity is involved. "Camels may well smell out an oasis by sniffing the air for traces of the fragrant metabolite. While camels quench their thirst, hordes of Streptomyces spores will be supped with the water or will find a way to stick onto the animals’ hides. In this way, spores can be carried for miles. In the same way, some cacti flowers may also use the geosmin scent to fool insects, in a sort of fragrant mimicry. Indeed, insects are attracted to the plants in the hope of a little refreshment, and in their quest for water, they actually serve as pollinators!"[source]

As with everything involving smell, there's more than meets the nose...

 
Music clip "With the First Drop of the Rain", lyrics by Greek nobelist poet Odysseas Elytis, set to music by Manos Hadjidakis and sung by Dimitris Psarianos.

Perfumery Material: Cypriol /Nagarmotha

I never cease to be amazed by the rich variety that both the natural world and the labs delving in organic chemistry produce for our olfactory delight. The nuances of some exotic materials feels eerily familiar, yet at the same time foreign, exciting, enigmatic, especially when encountered in a list of perfume notes in a given composition. Such is the case of Nargamotha/cypriol (Cyperus scariosus).

Nagarmotha/Cypriol (also "nut grass" in English) is a plant of the Cyperaceae family, alternatively called Nagar Mustaka, which grows wild in the Madhya Pradesh region of India. It belongs in the papyrus family (Cyperus papyrus is the one used during the apex of Ancient Egypt) and grows in damp places in Bengal, Sundarbans, and Utter Pradesh, but also in Australia.

Highly-prized for its rhizomes, much like iris, cyperus scariosus is often used in compounding perfumes (especially since it acts as a fixative and is quite economical), in the manufacturing of soaps and incense sticks, as an insect repellent and for medicinal purposes. Associated with milkweed, Indian nard, jatamansi and fekhand, it appears in the spells of Vashikarana: It's said that a man applying it to his forehead is assured of a long series of successful love affairs!

Steam distillation of the tubers of cypriol yields 0.075-0.080% of an essential oil, the principal content of which is cyperine. The smell of nagarmotha is woody, earthy and quite lingering; it mostly conjures a hybrid between cedar, vetiver and patchouli, with fleeting touches of cinnamon and frankincense giving a churchy feel.

Tom Ford for Men was claimed to be the first to use cypriol: "that slightly dirty, sensual, sexy smell...It's not the same as natural musk used to be, but it has a bit of something that some people would think slightly dirty...I think it's warm and sensual." And yet Xeryus, a floral woody semi-oriental masculine by Givenchy, developped by Firmenich, launched in 1986! And if I am not too mistaken cypriol is contained in Eau d'Issey pour Homme too in as early as 1994.

Cypriol is featured in rather limited perfumes, but with the propensity to expand into more: There is a product by Innospec also called "cypriol" that gives the natural raw material a run for its money. According to Innospec itself (2008), Cypriol base hals a spicy floral fragrance and it was presented in a linden blossom room spray and peach base during the British Society of Perfumery symposium at Towcester, where it confered the rich, natural aroma of real flowers. "As well as offering good odour of its own, Cypriol [product] has a substantial floralising effect on any fragrance".Additionally, a new terpenoid extracted from the leaves of cyperus sclariosus promises new uses as well.

List of fragrances featuring cypriol/cypriol mimicking synthetics:

Amouage Library Collection Opus VI
Annick Goutal  Musc Nomade
By Kilian Beyond Love
Lancôme Magnifique
L'Artisan Parfumeur Dzongha
L'Artisan Parfumeur Timbuktu 
Parfums de Rosine Rose Kashmirie
Tom Ford Tom Ford For Men

pic via http://indianflowersandherbs.blogspot.com

L'Artisan Parfumeur Love Messages: Have a Tree Planted, Win Perfume Bottles

L'Artisan Parfumeur fragrances are designed to arouse emotions and the company would like you to express yours as part of the new LOVE MESSAGES ‘happening’.Visit L'Artisan in their boutiques and corners from January 30th, pick up paper hearts and compose your heart-felt or amusing love messages, then place them in the giant bottles. The more the merrier; as for every 20 love messages received, a tree will be planted in Mali. And by the way, you will also have the chance to win fragrances! (for yourself or loved ones.)

Again this year (2011 saw 500 trees planted!), L'Artisan Parfumeur is working in partnership with TREE AID, an NGO that supports development and reforestation in Mali. The company chose this West African nation in honour of the iconic fragrance Timbuktu: this warm, sensual and bewitching elixir was inspired by Bertrand Duchaufour’s journey to this fascinating country.

Love messages event runs from: January 30th to March 30th.
Leave your love messages in the boutiques and on the L'Artisan Parfumeur Facebook page.
PS: Fragrances to be won for the most original messages...

L'Artisan Parfumeur Mandarine: fragrance review

Mandarine by L'Artisan Parfumeur began its "career" under a different guise: a limited edition bottle for summer 2006 under the name Mandarine Tout Simplement (i.e. Simply Mandarin), along with the regular line launch of Fou d'Absinthe, based on absinth. Mandarine is recently re-issued in the regular bottles of L'Artisan, in 50ml/1.7oz size, so it's fitting to give it a review.

Extremely true to the mandarin fruit, succulent and fresh and tart, Mandarine by L'Artisan Parfumeur is really as if you have piched your nails on the rind of a ripe mandarin, juice dribbling down your fingers, the tartness almost spritzing you in the eye. Then it fans out into a little indeterminable wood accord, of which cedar seems to be the main note. It's pretty simple and unadorned by weighty accents.
The succulent, lightly peachy-bubblegum note that you might detect after a while is due to frangipani. Nevertheless, this is not at all a floral perfume by any means, nor a floral fruity either. It stays resolutely within the realm of fruity woody. As soon as one sprays Mandarine one is transported to a sunny place, with a bowl of fruits on the porch and a summery frock on. Sunglasses optional : this is a friendly , not aloof scent at all. Rather sweet, but the tartness keeps it from being cloying.

Perfumer Olivia Giacobetti is known for her unusual watery creations that are far from the "marine" type of frags so typical of the 90s (witness the watery ambience in Navegar or her Preparation Parfumee for Andree Putman) and her beloved dough/yeast note (as in the cucumber-watery lilacs of En passant ), but here I can detect none. That's a good thing to me personally, because sometimes they ruin the perfume for me.
Mandarine makes you go "ahhhhh" at first sniff , but then it disappears suddenly. I have no trouble with most L'artisan fragrances and their staying power (I regularly wear Premier Figuier, Timbuktu,Oeillet Sauvage without problems to give you an idea), but of course citrus and hesperidic notes are volatile to begin with, hence the swift evaporation. For those who complain about short-lived staying power, that might be a concern. Now that it comes in a 50ml bottle, it would be a "killer" to have in your bag and spray away at the first opportunity.

More info on availability &shopping on the L'Artisan site.

Which is YOUR preferred fruity fragrance for summer? 

Painting of Mandarins via Sadie e Valeri blog

L'Artisan Parfumeur Traversee du Bosphore: fragrance review & draw

Wheelbarrow, lay off the whip and don't rush the horses,
you don't need to hurry when you've got your love so close by.
When he smiles, the world smiles at me,
so let the wheel run where it might,
and wherever it goes, it's fine by me.

~from the song "Wheelbarrow" by Manos Hadjidakis from the 1963 Greek film Χτυποκάρδια στα θρανία/
(hence the top clip)

Any mention of Bosphorus, the strait between East and West, uniting and at the same time dividing Constantinople (Istanbul), which lays on both its banks, never fails to ignite a very palpable nostalgia laced with a smattering of pain for any Greek. We're automatically thinking of the failing grandeur of the Paleologi dynasty and lamenting for the times when Greeks and Turks co-existed in peace for centuries in this most cosmopolitan of Eastern cities. Traversée du Bosphore (Crossing the Bosphorus) by L'Artisan Parfumeur, like its namesake strait, was the straw that broke the ~proverbial~ camel's back, as anything referencing the city of Constantine will make me reminiscence yet again of my forebearers and the sweet camaraderie they had to abandond due to political turmoil. But The City, Istanbul, is in reality neither Greek, nor Turkish. It's neither christian nor muslim. It's a cultural border, a place where everything meets and unites, a cauldron of cultures and men; the place which millions of different people, of different nationalities and religions, loved madly through the centuries. A city so beautiful that there was no other way to call it than The City, η Πόλη!

Traversée du Bosphore comes now from Bertrand Duchaufour and L'Artisan Parfumeur as the symbolic strait between modern French perfumery and its oriental heritage. The unisex fragrance was fittingly inspired by a journey to Istanbul, when at the crack of dawn the cobblestone streets still retain their sleepy languor, like heavy-boned odalisques stealing gazes through the lacework wooden panel of the musharabieh, and when the many fishermen set out to catch their day's worth, packing nets, salty sardines and pita bread. You can easily lose yourself promenading unhurriedly through the small alleys towards the seraglio and Kahrié djami with its blue-peacock mosaics, gazing at the narthex's domes for hours or the many fountains where pilgrims ritualistically wash their head and hands before proceeding. It's a slow world, filled with beautiful wistfulness.



The strange thing about Traversée du Bosphore, part of the Travel series in the niche brand's subplot, is how a -by now- cliché concept (i.e.eastern exoticism) that should be a foregone conclusion (loukhoum, tanneries, saffron, milky salep drink, tobacco in hookahs, opulent roses, strange white flowers......hasn't Lutens exhausted that genre?) smells interesting and contemporary; nothing like a heavy odalisque looking through the parapets or Alladin rolled into plies and plies of plush carpets. Instead it's a gouache of a scent: a transparent suede floriental with soft musky notes, a marriage of rosewater and suede.

Indeed, the list of official notes for Traversée du Bosphore reads like a shopping list of things to find in a Turkish souk or at the very least smells encountered around a Turkish souk. The apple-laced çay (tea) is very popular and no one makes it more delicious than Piyer Loti Kahvesi at Eyup (the European side of the city), a stone's throw away from Sultan Ahmet Mosque and the Byzantine apotheosis that is the temple of Aghia Sophia. Loti is the writer of Aziyadé (see the perfume inspired by it) and knew a thing or two about sensual abandon...Tobacco is still smoked in hookahs; not only by old men in derelict coffee-shops, heavy in political talk, but from younger ones as well, when they finally sit down to have an aimless break. Men and women alike buy fresh phyllo pastry, almonds and pistachios to make baklava, and Turkish delight by the pound to bring back at home. The market is filled with golden and red heaps of spices, precious saffron and dried Turkish roses for using as pot-pourri. Tanneries do work merrily (Turkish leathers have competitive prices), although the effluvium isn't anything one would associate with perfume.

But the summation of the notes or the panoramic vol plané shot does not really tell the whole tale: Duchaufour was no stranger to Byzantine formulae, including everything but the kitchen sink before, and the results are diverse: from the baroque patina gold of Jubilation XXV for Amouage to the carnal tryst of Amaranthine for Penhaligon's, all the way to the deceptively diaphanous muddy-incense of Timbuktu for L'Artisan. His compositions include many pathways that lead to a gauze of orientalia.
For Traversée du Bosphore Duchaufour eschewed clichés to come up with a composition that marries on the one hand Anatolian leather (you will only smell grey suede, really, not harsh quinolines; it's comparable to the note in Sonia Rykiel Woman-Not for Men! and Barbara Bui Le Parfum) and on the other hand Turkish Delight (loukhoum), into a unique interpretation of the leather genre; velvety and whispery soft, opening upside down: After the brief apple çay top (blink and you'll miss it!), you sense the suede and only later the powdery loukhoum accord.
The strangely greyish powderiness of iris dusts the notes like white copra dust enrobes the small rose-laced loukhoum cubes, while saffron with its leathery bitterish facets reinforces the impression and balances the sweeter notes, much like it kept vanilla in check in Saffran Troublant. The iris-leather accord in Traversée du Bosphore weaves a whispery path together with a hint of almond giving a light gourmand nod. The whole smells like rosewater sweets wrapped in a suede pouch, never surupy and very skin-scent like (incorporating that Havana Vanille base), although a tad more flowery feminine than most men would feel comfortable with. It's a fragrance which smells nice and simple like a nostalgic song from an old movie which dies down to a murmur, and might demand your attention to catch the smaller nuances.

As for me I know well that the past is inextricably tied to the future, and revel in thinking of Istanbul as the pathway where cultures and people will eternally meet...and part.

For our readers a draw: one sample to a lucky commenter. Draw is now closed, thank you!
Tell us where you would envision the next travel series by L'Artisan should take us.

L’Artisan Parfumeur Traversée du Bosphore is available in 50 ($115) and 100 ml ($155) of Eau de Parfum wherever L'Artisan is sold (voutiques, Perfume Shoppe, Luckyscent, Aedes, First in Fragrance etc).

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Travel memoirs Instanbul part 1, part 2, part 3,Leather scents



The bottom music clip and the film stills come from the Greek 2003 film Πολίτικη Κουζίνα/A Touch of Spice by Tasos Boulmetis, starring George Corraface and exploring the culinary philosophy that maps the course of modern Istanbul and the fateful, doomed romance between a Greek boy and a Turkish girl before the deportation of Greeks in 1964. It's uploaded in its entirety with English subtitles on Youtube: the first part is on this link and you can take it from there. Happy watching!

Free Aromatherapy Course

Abdes Salaam of La Via del Profumo (Profumo.it) announced some wonderful news: a free aromatherapy course which is available online at www.profumo.it/aromacourse.doc
The scope is meant for the benefit of people and not for commercial reasons while Abdes describes some of the stunning effects that aromatherapy can have, with reports and pictures from my Timbuktu experiences. You can reach those on the following link. http://www.profumo.it/Blog/index.php (scroll down a few texts)


More info on La Via de Profumo and Abdes Salaam: http://www.profumo.it/
Check our reviews of his scents on the widgets below.

Hermes Eau d'Hermes: fragrance review

The official site introduces Eau d'Hermès as "For me. For you. His and hers" and if an androgynous sensibility is already simpatico to you, the special Eau has the potential to surprise in other ways. Notoriously refered to as "that stinky Hermès" among perfume aficionados, this cologne has had a somewhat dimmed profile for many years, ever since its introduction in 1951 by renowned perfumer Edmond Roudnitska and still to this day enjoys a rather underground cult status.



The ~originally proficient in saddlery and leather goods~ luxury house has some of the most interesting Eaux around anyway, with the latest Eau de Pamplemousse Rose and Eau de Gentiane Blanche having me rave recently for their unassuming spontaneity and unassuming intellectualism, with the ultra-popular Eau de Merveilles with its saline note of ambergris and the mouthwatering Eau d'Orange Verte rounding out the edges. But the original Eau from 1951 is still a small marvel because it manages to recalibrate the Eau formula (a traditional recipe of herbs and hesperidia) into a dazzling kaleidoscope combining frank animal notes, spices, and the illusion of tobacco, a mirage that’s at once textured, elegant and "skanky". In some ways there is a bond with the famous fougère by Guerlain, Jicky: The proper lavender touch, the unabashed sexiness of civet, the contrast of old money and an almost cubist outlook. Only the sequence in Eau d'Hermès is in reverse ~first the objectionable part, then the sumptuous, dignified drydown! There is also kinship with some of the older lovely masculines in the line-up: Équipage and Bel Ami, which I also like very much.

Frankly I don't get much of the "dirty" vibe for which Eau d'Hermès is referenced myself, meaning it doesn't smell either really sweaty (rich though it is in cumin, the usual culprit as per received wisdom) or diaper-like/fecal (copious amounts of civet tend to do that). I get a finely tuned citrus-leather violin and piano duet with some white flowers peeking underneath discreetly. This might have to do with either my skank-eating skin or my seriously wrapped-up perception of what "dirty" really is (Apparently my threshold is rather raised in comparison to the average WASP sensibility, I've been told.) My money is on the second hypothesis, at any rate, and most Roudnitska creations with their improper parts always peeking through the layers seem to perform well. But as usual, try before you buy, because perception is everything when it comes to perfume appreciation and what's fine with me might be unbearable bathroom ambience to you. And cumino-phobiacs*, please beware!

The first bottle of Eau d'Hermès in my life was a gift from an artist friend who has a high brow in art issues and a low brow in matters of everyday commodities; which even now befundles me as to which end of the intellectual and aesthetic spectrum predominated when the choice for this gift was made! Eau d'Hermès is perfectly legible as a composition that doesn't trumpet its credentials in your face (there are luxury ingredients in it, but they never show off the bill, if you know what I mean), it nevertheless has some unusual streak which reminds me of another friend, a writer who hails from an old family tracing roots in the Byzantine Empire, and who likes to wear little hats cocked off-kilter and combine odd socks with her evening outfits. Bottom line, it conjures images of non-prim respectability, like an old, faded aristocrat who has the pissoir jugs displayed alongside the family china.

Notes for Eau d'Hermes: citrus, cumin, birchwood, moss, cedar, sandalwood, vanilla

Please take care not to confuse Eau d'Hermès with the semi-oriental Parfum d'Hermès from 1984 (in the round disk bottle) which is a completely different fragrance. The newest version rerworked by in-house perfumer Jean Claude Ellena is a bit more refined, a little more brainy and airy than the vintage, but still fantastically marvellous and arresting in the most incospicuous way. It is sold in all Hermes boutiques at an Eau de Toilette concentration, just ask for it.

Three different commemorative limited editions of Eau d'Hermès have circulated over the years, highly collectible and beautiful to look at. One is from 1993, depicted above, showing a rider upon a horse. Another is from 1994 with an etched Pegasus on the bottle depicted on the left, the other depicting the sun-carriage of Phaethon also etched on the crystal from 2001 depicted on the right. They're both available on Ebay right now for ridiculous amounts of money (A lesson for us all to stock up on rare limited editions instead of bonds, I guess).




















*Some of the other cumin/sweat-infested fragrances include: Kingdom (McQueen), L'Autre (Diptyque), Santal Blanc , Fleurs d'Oranger, Muscs Kublai Khan (Lutens), Declaration (Cartier), Timbuktu (L'Artisan), Gucci Eau de Parfum, Black Tourmaline (Olivier Dubrano), Rochas Femme (1984 reissue).

Paintings by the Spanish artist Juan Gris with music by Barry Mitchell performed by the Locrian Ensemble

L'Artisan Parfumeur Havana Vanille/Vanille Absolument: fragrance review

Appraising my impressions on the upcoming L'Artisan Havana Vanille (later changed to Vanille Absolument) I can't help but think that it is more like a sagacious study in black & white rather than a journey to exotic locales respendent with colourful fabrics or outlandish fruit. Its boozy tonalities on the other hand recall to mind the Payard Vanilla Rum Truffles as if they had been painted by Monet, an aspect which will place this release under the aegis of gourmando-philiacs the world over.

Havana Vanille/Vanille Absolument, the latest instalment in L'Artisan's Travel scents after Bois Farine (by Jean Claude Ellena), Timbuktu, Dzongha and Fleur de Liane (all by Duchaufour), was supposed to take us to Cuba. The allusion to the Caribbean island brings to mind tobacco of course and those beautiful chickas rolling the leaves on their sweaty thighs (I have shades of Marisa Tomey in The Perez Family in mind). The practice is not without merit, as the humidity from their tan skin makes for cigars that preserve their precious bouquet well into the aftertaste and do not become dried-out when properly stored in a humidor. Composed by in-house L'Artisan perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour, Vanille Absolument (Havana Vanille) showcases his typical monastic style of diaphanous, orientalised compositions recalling a mystical haze or vapours rising, like his beloved incense which he has explored in every nook and crany thought possible for both his L'Artisan and Eau d'Italie offerings.

Comparison with another Tobaco Vanilla, the one in Tom Ford's Private Line, reveals the L'Artisan endeavour as much lighter and less sweet (the Tom Ford one is much heavier on the tobacco overall, but highlighting the sweeter and whiskey aspects of its leaves, to the point where it is achingly sweet for me; in contrast the L'Artisan has the impression of nuanced tobacco with a passing pomander overtone). It might also nod slyly at the direction of that minx of a scent, Fifi (by lingerie maven Fifi Chachnil), who is climbing into her hot pink lacy undergarments and bringing the silk scarfs at bed for a frisky light bondage romp. Yet somehow Vanille Absolument (Havana Vanille) isn't as naughtily bawdy and seems more introverted, the bookish type who wears Alain Mikli glasses and looks you up quizzically over them when you make a compliment. This would not intimidate men who could opt for this one easily. Of course the pairing of tobacco with vanilla is a natural, as both materials have interlapping facets, much like a Reisling wine would pair with Ibores cheese perfectly and Tolu balsam is also complimenting the mix. Havana the city has been a reference for years due to its exotic locale and contraband allusions (fragrant examples by Aramis and Tuscany, both Lauder brands, which would make you think of a linen-suited Robert Redford gambling away in Havana, the film, while rescuing beautiful political objectors in the shape of Lena Olin).

The boozier aspects of Vanille Absolument/Havana Vanille (discernible rum, the "aged rum and sweet air of Cuba") recall to mind the decadent and rather debauched Spiritueuse Double Vanille by Guerlain (also referenced by NST), a fragrance that has lured many with its dense cloud of smokey vanilla-pod aspects highlighting the darker elements of the husks. This thick, succulent trend has been played for a while now and doesn't seem like fading yet. Indult went for broke with their intensely darkish-vanilla-rich Tihota (great-smelling stuff, yet for those prices you're set with some Vanille Noire du Mexique which resembles it); in Vanille Absolument (Havana Vanille) you get the feeling that the perfumer was trying to preserve a Cold War policy of equal distance from all those references: a little bit of everything but not exactly of the same mind.
What caught my attention about the new L'Artisan creation mainly is the underlying notes of dried fruits with their Lutensian tonality (treated the Coke Zero way, mind you!) and the caramelised maple-like immortelle note that peaks through ~the way it did subtly in the forgotten opus of Annick Goutal Eau de Monsieur by Isabelle Doyen or the more modern vanilla-laced Cuir Béluga by Olivier Polge. The (synthetic) moss doesn't blurr the overall composition into too dangerous territories to my nose and the terrain remains terra ferma with only a leathery hint that doesn't derive from bitter quinolines, but instead the narcissus absolute.
The longevity of Vanille Absolument (Havana Vanille) is average and the sillage is discreet, melding into a skin scent on me within the hour. Like The Non Blonde says it's "understated,without being low brow".

Vanilla seems all the rage again with everyone in the niche sector issuing one, falling into different stratagems: starting with the uber-luxurious, air-spun ~and floral really~ Vanille Galante by Hermès and the correspondingly diaphanous, citrusy Vanilla & Anise by Jo Malone which we reviewed the other day, on to the upcoming Patricia de Nicolai Vanille Intense and the upcoming Creed Vanille. Rumour has it that the groundbreaking (at its time) Vanilia by L'Artisan, which caused ripples with its brightly and kitchily artificial ethylmaltol note of cotton-candy (popularised much later by Angel and its clones in patchouli-laced compositions), will be replaced by the newest Vanille Absolument (Havana Vanille) in the L'Artisan portfolio. The reason could be the upcoming IFRA restrictions, although those wouldn't affect ethylmaltol I believe. It could also be latent style concerns, since the older one issued 31 years ago reflects a direction no longer en vogue. If this is news that has your wallet vibrating with worrisome anxiousness, better stock up before it is too late. On the other hand, if that fluorescent vanilla ice-cone of a scent isn't your cup of tea (and I admit although I admire it intellectually I can very rarely wear it), then you will be probably overjoyous with the newest Vanille Absolument (Havana Vanille).
I predict it will be much better received commercially than many of the latest L'Artisan scents exactly because of its "easy" reading that doesn't require coinnoisseurship. If you're searching for a more economical "twin" to Spiritueuse Double Vanille without the $220 tag attached, then you're all set. Personally, having cornered the vanilla issue in a precious few, select choices and prefering the oddly cuddly cardboard-and-soft animals'-underside of L'Artisan's Dzing! I am not so sure whether I'd rush to buy a full bottle of Vanille Absolument (Havana Vanille); probably not. But I am almost certain many will.

Notes for L'Artisan Vanille Absolument/Havana Vanille:
Top : Rum, mandarin, orange, clove
Heart : Dried fruits, narcissus absolute, rose, tobacco leaf, helichrysum/immortelle (everlasting flower)
Base : Madagascar and Mexican vanilla absolutes, tonka bean, benjoin, tolu balsam, vetiver, moss, musks, leather

Vanille Absolument (formerly Havana Vanille) comes in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz bottles of Eau de Parfum. The scent is officially launching in October and testers are already appearing here and there.
L'Artisan is planning to surprise us delightfully with another launch later this year!

Related reading on Perfumeshrine: L'Artisan reviews and news,Vanillaand Gourmand fragrances

Photo by Walker Evans Parquet Central III via thephil.org

Travel Memoirs: Singapore part 2

Walking under a lightly tinted oriental umbrella fit for the hot sun, but also the sudden shower of the tropics, I find myself savoring the sights and smells of exotic Singapore again as I reminiscence. Besides the lush vegetation, olfactory stimuli exist in other venues as well.

One of the best ways to get to know a culture is through its cuisine. Singapore’s cuisine seems to have been a fusion of other cultural influences long before fusion became the “in” word it has since become. Encompassing elements of Chinese, Indian and Malayan gastronomy it is as rich and fragrant as the wildest imagination could fathom. Tamarind, turmeric and heavy smelling ghee (a class of clarified butter) feature heavily as does sampal, a common chili-based accompaniment to most foods. Fragrances such as Black XS for Her or John Varvatos have taken elements of that rich spicy tradition of Asia and wouldn’t be too out of place in this subtext.

The aroma of spices is evident in such dishes as Char siew rice (chā shāo fàn) and Char siew noodles (chā shāo miàn), a Cantonese-inspired dish of rice or noodles served with barbecued pork in a thick sauce. Satay bee hoon, thin rice vermicelli, is served with spicy satay sauce of crushed peanuts. Kare Kare is a Philippine-inspired dish of oxtail, similarly stewed in peanut sauce. Oyster omelet, combines the fishy, iodine odor of oysters with coriander leaves. Spicy kangkung, a dish of leafy green vegetables is fried in sambal, imparting a biting hot tang that excites the tongue’s buds.

The fruit selection is both amazing and surprising in its variety and fragrant goodness. Atis, the Philippine word for Cherimoya, are to quote Mark Twain "the most delicious fruit known to men." Mangos are a breed apart from what you get in the West. If your idea of a mango is the green, unripe one in the refreshing Un Jardin sur le Nil by Hermes (which smells more like a wounded grapefruit), you are in for a welcome surprise: the deep apricot color, sweetness and yumminess of aroma in mangos of tropical southeastern Asia is a feast for all the senses. To the other end of the spectrum, in the heavier oriental category, a complex mix of the spices and fruits of the southeastern Asia is encaptured in Jungle L’elephant by Kenzo.
Kalamansi (citrus micracarpa) can also be found in Singapore, a small citrus fruit, often called sour lime, with which description it’d be hard to argue after one tongue-curling taste of the juice. Cold, served in cocktails, it imparts a zesty, tart and sweet aroma with shades of grapefruit and tangerine that is totally refreshing amidst the monsoon steam.

The desserts range from the interesting ice cream flavors like corn, cheese and ube (the Philippine word for taro) to halo-halo (pronounced hah-low hah-low), crushed ice with corn and fruit and jelly and Bubur cha cha, yam and sweet potato cubes served in coconut milk and sago, served hot or cold. Red rubies, a Thai-inspired dessert, is made by boiling water-chestnuts covered in rice flour and red food coloring, served over shaved ice, rose syrup and evaporated milk. The latter is sometimes referred to as "mock pomegranate", since the chestnut pieces bear a resemblance to the pomegranate seeds. Magical Moon by Hanae Mori includes coconut, milky lactonic notes and rose in a fragrance that reminds me a bit of this particular dessert.

After an orgiastic feast that leaves you a bit too full for comfort, seeking comfort of the soul is where your weary but satisfied feet take you. Singapore offers temples of Hinduist, Buddhist and Taoist credo and even Muslim mosques to cater for its cosmopolitan citizenship. Yueh Hai Ching temple and Thian Hock Keng temple are well known placed amidst the central part of the city. In front of the antique stores, a laughing Buddha is sitting to whom people clamor, to rub his belly and drop coins into the slot over his navel for good luck and karma.

In the relative quiet of the Hindu temple, full of the fragrant smell of what seems like Nag Champa incense and illuminated by numerous small candles under the enshrined deities decorated with flowers, one of the caretakers invites us to see the idol up close; he cups a metal bowl over our heads and gives us herbal leaves to chew on as well as red powder. The latter is used to mark a woman’s forehead.

In comparison the Buddhist temple is packed with people kneeling in prayer, chanting from dog-eared books and burning incense sticks which produce a thick smoke of what would be olfactory heaven if they had stuck to the alloted three sticks per burning, incidentally the lucky number for this. The smell of the temple overall reminds me of the peculiarly wonderful mix in L’artisan’s Timbuktu: one part incense to two parts living, breathing beings. People in their desire to please the divine universe, bowing their heads in supplication, have grabbed handfuls of sticks, their tips smoldering into ash which falls on their hands and on their clothes in fleeting moments of pain. I try to imagine what they’re praying for and fail: surely everyone is different and they have their own worries to think about, much different than what I contemplate myself.
The mystical atmosphere of the temples will accompany me on the long, long flight home as I already long for visiting once again.

Pic of Wakm Hai Cheng Bio temple and Trishaws courtesy of Worldisround.com. Ati/Cherimoya pic courtesy of Wikipedia

What's Brewing Now?

It's always great to find that a house one admires releases something new and exciting. I got the info on this through Perfumista.org who attended the NYC Snifapalooza. The new Eau de Liane , another Bertrand Duchaufour composition for L'Artisan Parfumeur, forms part of the "Fragrance captured by a perfumer on his travels" line, inaugaurated with Bois Farine and followed by the unusual and wonderful Timbuktu.
The new scent was influenced by travels in Panama and is launching in October 2008. Of course Liane is a river in Pas-de-Calais in France and not Panama, but I am assuming they're after another thing: possibly the plant! We'll find out in due time I gather.
The description sounds enticing enough, what with the watery kelp-ish notes along with the deep green and the fruit and perhaps we're in for a ground-breaker (always in need of one of those!)

On a completely different note, it seems that perfume brands are not the only ones endlessly repeating themselves and recycling the same ideas. Cosi fan tutte... It happens to make-up lines as well, as attested by this piece of sleuthing by The Non Blonde. The time span of recycling is dropping as well. Well, with so many releases on the market, I wonder how they could possibly re-invent the wheel every time!
It's also infuriating to hear that one can buy the whole but not the individual items of a promotional set at Bobbi Brown! Thankfully there are a couple of cosmetic sets that prove good value for money. But they don't come by every day nor does the offer last for long!

Lastly, there are new fragrances already out, fresh like buns from the oven. Union Square by Bond no.9 in the Andy Warhol series which started with Silver Factory ; and The Beat by Burberry. Since I have no idea what they smell like yet, I refer you to Karin's reviews on both.
And for our French-reading audience, Poivre Bleu is focusing on patchouli scents, with Borneo 1834and Reminiscence Patchouli at the forefront.
Enjoy!

Pic originally uploaded by glemcol gilles

Absinthe Series 4: Fragrances of Anisic Goodness

Today we continue our project of organising fragrances with anise inspired by one of the herbs that aromatize absinthe and offer a distinction between those who draw upon aniseed and those who explore facets of the chinese spice star anise. The two are not interchangeable:

"Aniseed is a member of the parsley family and native to the Eastern Mediterranean. Nowadays it grows in all warm climates. Anethole is the oil that accounts for the distinctive sweet-licorice taste. Both the leaves and the seeds have this flavoring, which is used in breads, cakes, and confections in parts of Europe and the Middle East, in curry and seafood dishes in India and neighboring countries, in various dishes in Southeast Asia, and as the flavoring of such alcoholic drinks as the French pastis and Greek ouzo.[...]Star anise is the fruit of a small evergreen tree native to southwest China, and now also grown in Japan and Southeast Asia. The plant puts out a small star-shaped fruit with (generally) eight points, and a seed is contained in each of the points. Star anise can be used whole as a flavoring, its seeds can be used as a flavoring, and both can be ground. It is the dominant flavor in Chinese five-spice powder. It has been used in Asia to flavor pork and chicken, in teas, and as a seasoning.[...]Like aniseed, its flavor comes primarily from the anethole oil, but it is considered more bitter than aniseed".

~Through Ochef.com

Scents with Anise and/or Licorice:

*Aimez-moi by Caron: A violet fragrance on a powdery vanillic backdrop, it profits from the slightest touch of anisic piquancy to lift it from the usual.

*Alpine Lily by Crown: Anise leaves over a floral composition, resulting in a fresh and young interpretation. Very "clean".

*Ambre Sultan by Serge Lutens (nose Chris Shledrake): This back to the roots of oriental perfumery legend has the interlay of various herbs, such as bay, oregano and anise which give it a dusty, kitchen cupboard smell that deviates from the crowd-pleaser little ambers out there. Individual and unsurpassed it has been likened to a woman's sexual juices. You have been warned!

*Anice by Etro (nose Jacques Flori): The success of Anice is that it maintains its headstrong persistence in smelling anisic till the very end. According to Luca Turin the heart uses cis-jasmone (which has a smell of fennel and contributes to natural jasmine aroma) along with fennel seed and a macrocyclic musk that also has an anisic ambrette character. Whatever! It's a lovely fragrance if you yearn for that liquor-like note.

*Anisia Bella in Aqua Allegoria line by Guerlain: Another single-minded fragrance that focuses on smelling mostly like anise and a rather pleasant example of the Aqua Allegoria line before all the flavours of chewing gum took over.

*Après l'ondée by Guerlain (nose Jacques Guerlain): What is it that makes this so nostalgic, trembling with delight after the shower which its name hints at? Is it its heliotropin soft powderiness married to melancholic iris like a smooth-faced Ophelia contemplating the joys of the river? No, it's probably what is more culinary and which confirms that reputation of Guerlain as a grand chef of French perfumery: provencal herbs and spices of which anise is more pronounced give a glimpse of the sun forming a rainbow over dewy petals. A 1906 classic.

*Acqua e Zucchero by Profumum: A scent that one would be hard pressed to detect anise, it combines orange blossom to berries and vanilla to render a sweet fragrance. The slight hint of anise/licorice is a welcome inclusion, but the whole is too close to Pink Sugar to justify the price.

*Black Annis by BPAL: In the familiar tone of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab scents, this is seriously strong and pungent with the eponymous aroma and what seems like catty civet. Part of the Diabolus series with notes of "damp cave lichen and oak leaf with a hint of vetiver, civet and anise".

*Confetto by Profumum: Very sweet almond fragrance with a touch of anise. I am amazed though that it demands such high prices for something that Hypnotic Poison or even Jour de Fete does better.

*Duel by Annick Goutal (nose Annick Goutal, Isabel Doyen): One of the more individual fragrances in a line of limpid and lucid watercolours, it is a masculine with an original touch.

*Etra by Etro: A soft, aromatic composition of woods and florals, very ethereal and rather soapy on top, more shady later on with spice and cedar. The whole reminds me of eating fruity pie while sipping ouzo, which is as strange a gastronomic combination as any, but somehow works: I have seriously mellowed on the fruity note of it, I was much more dismissive before. All those horrible fruity florals out to compare must have helped.

*Hypnôse by Lancôme (noses Thierry Wasser and Annick Menardo): For something that is so obviously inspired by the recent gourmand crop following into the footsteps of Angel a touch of anise is unexpected but not enough to redeem it in my eyes. Too derivative.

*Hypnotic poison by Dior (nose Annick Menanrdo): I recall the first time I smelled it with dread: a spectator in front of me had ruined an exceptional Genet performance in an art-house theatre one evening a long time ago with the cough suryp fumes emanating from her heavy sweater. I had thus shunned it for years. Finally, a litle while ago I tested the eau de toilette in a store prepared to hate it and finally it dawned on me. It's trippy, yes, but oh so good! The anisic touch with the bitter powder of coumarin makes it soar.

*Insolence by Guerlain (nose Maurice Roucel): The old-fashioned take of L'Heure Bleue, merely dressed as lamb with a strobo light on top. Everything exterior belies its contents and I for one liked it from the very first.

*Iris Pallida 2007 by L’artisan (nose Anne Flipo): A woody iris for a very demanding price, encased like a precious vintage wine, it uses anise to highlight the dry softness of the rest of the composition.

*Jasmine de Nuit by The Different Company (nose Céline Ellena): A dirty, spicy jasmine fragrance which mesmerises by its feral power and animalic prowl. It begs to be taken on a date with naughty intentions. All this and a touch of anisic goodness too!

*Jil Sander No.4 by Jil Sander: I always liked this deep oriental from almost 2 decades ago. I don't know why I relied on decants and minis all this time. It projects, it envelops, it brings about questions as to what I am wearing.

*Krizia by Krizia: A great chyprish fragrance that is seriously underrated. A touch of anise with all that cool moss makes it supremely elegant and confident.

*L'heure bleue by Guerlain (nose Jacques Guerlain): The archetypal anisic floral, it poses an enigma for serious perfume lovers: to wear or not to wear? It's an undisputed work of art, very characteristic of both its times and the artistry of Guerlain. However I could never since find the exact formulation that made me appreciate it about 15 years ago. Which is a pity: nothing comes close to what I had smelled that glorious afternoon strolling around the perfume boutiques of my city, with all the elation of my own hard-earned money in my pocket.

*Lolita Au masculin by Lolita Lempicka: The masculine interpretation of the feminine Lolita Lempicka fragrance with a touch of violets and for me even better. It is succulent but restrained in its sugared stakes and it proves to be extremely wearable through its licorice kept in blood-sugar check.

*Lolita Lempicka and Lolita Midnight (nose Annick Menardo): One of the few fragrances in the wake of Angel to leave their own mark. Intensely liquorice-like, herbal in its pungency and with a gorgeous bottle the shape of an enchanted poisoned apple it has become a little cult of its own with a fairy tale advertising campaign. The limited edition Midnight bottle is in darker bluish hues and completely covetable. They also do some of the most darling limited editions sets every once in a while.

*LouLou by Cacharel (nose Jean Guichard): A great underrated overly sweet fragrance hailing from the 80s, heavy on cassis (a synthetic so characteristic of that decade) over plums and heliotrope, it has an aniseed top note which gives it a piquant salty-sweet air there for a second (like those bands of licorice that refuse to budge), tantalising you to smell it again and again. It helps that it evokes so influential feminine icons.

*Mandragore by Annick Goutal (nose Annick Goutal, Isabel Doyen): To me it's not particularly evocative of dark medieval practices of uprooting a magical root under the feet of hanged men. It is mostly bergamot to my nose, although a good rendition, no doubt. A slight anisic touch is very welcome and I can see this being a great choice for warm weather for both sexes.

*Perfect Twilight by Creative Scentualisation (nose Sarah Horwitz) : Violets sprinkled with aniseed. No doubt inspired by L'Heure Bleue and Apres l'ondee, but simpler, more streamlined and ergo less of an art work.

*Pink Sugar by Aquolina: The brilliance of such a juvenile concoction lies in the details. A strong liquorice-like accent on what is basically ripe strawberries buried into the plush of burnt cotton candy reverts one to a mental state of My Little Pony, but if you're above average IQ anyway it will be seen as a terribly clever turn!

*Piper Negrum by Lorenzo Villoresi (nose Lorenzo Villoresi): Mostly strong pepper to my nose with a touch of anise for good measure. It has its fans and I like Villoresi's use of pepper in his other fragrances, but this is too thick for me.

*Poison by Dior (nose Edouard Flechier): A classic oriental encased in a poisonous apple of Cinderella tale bottle, it is greatly responsible along with other usual suspects of so many people's distrust of perfume. And yet it is a grand fruity oriental which uses anise to reinforce the spicy accord which juxtaposes the rich plum, tuberose and the berries and make it an grenade for olfactory amunition.

*Pomegranate Anise Fresh Index: Like its name suggests, two notes, one fragrance. An aquatic fruity with a liquorice touch due to aniseed and weirdly enough a grapefruit top. Index describes this fragrance as 'a crisp winter kiss'. I think not.

*Quand vient la pluie by Guerlain (nose Jean Paul Guerlain): Tied to the tradition of L'Heure Bleue, more than the similarly named After the Shower (QVLP means "when rain comes") it draws upon the anisic floral composition of the former in an effort to remodernize it with a fresh lime top-note on a bed of heliotrope, iris and licorice. Lovely, if a little too sweet for me to become a signature.

*Raving by Etro: Spicy (with nutmeg) and sweet (a touch of coconut) with a salty and iodine aroma which makes it completely offbeat and unisex. It might also make a good substitute for the intense spicy oriental Kenzo Jungle L'elephant.

*Rose d'argent by Rosine: An unconventional rose fragrance with a cool anisic touch and spicy geranium notes over warmer amber. It takes some getting used to, much like Caron's Or et Noir. The antithesis of cool and warm is magnificent to experience, like drinking a glass of water after chewing a cinnamon-mint gum.

*Shiso in Leaves Series by Comme Des Garçons: A trully bizarre, therefore typical CDG scent that recalls mint leaves on which animals have smeared their furry behinds. Cumin and anise dominate after the mint.

*Simply by Clinique: Roasted cereals without being too sweet with a touch of anise-bread just like local bakeries like to make. It was destined not to be a success.

*Tarot the Chariot by BPAL: Inspired by the deck of Tarot Cards, this represents the Chariot, which I am told represents the recognition of Karmic issues. I don't know if I have some of those, but sniffing fruity florals like this makes me think maybe I do. A touch of anise might save my unredeemed soul.

*Timbuktu by L’artisan (nose Bertrand Duchaufour): A wonderfully individual unisex woody with spices and incense, utilising the rare Indian essential oil Cypriol. I like how it interplays anisic tonalities in there and remains tremendously fresh while definitely redolent of human warmth.

*Yvresse by YSL (nose Sophia Grosjman): It's hard to imagine that formerly named Champagne came out in the aqueous 1990s: it's so loud! However among Grosjman's oeuvre, it's one of those who take a classic form (fruity chypre) and give it a modern twist that somehow smells contemporary. If only it came in a more diluted form, it would have been fab! As it is, it needs good spritz control.


Scents with star anise:

*Casanova 1725 by Histoire des parfums: Naming perfumes after historical personages, especially those who have a naughty reputation is a sure instigator of interest for Perfume Shrine. We succumbed and promptly ordered a sample of Casanova, after loving Marquis de Sade 1740 when exploring Leather scents. Casanova is surprisingly airy and delicate with "head notes of Italian bergamot and lemon, grapefruit, French armoise, lavender, tarragon, and rosemary; the heart notes of star anise, lavender, and geranium, and base notes of vanilla, sweet almond, sandalwood, cedar, and amber". Nice...

*Donna by Lorenzo Villoresi (nose Lorenzo Villoresi): A musky rose with a nail products top note, it is strangely pleasant, although a little sour perhaps at times. The musky background is very fetching to me, if a little standard.

*Energising Fragrance by Shiseido (nose Claudette Bernavis): A fresh spice accord that manages to be uplifting and -yes- energising. It's quite nice!

*Fire Opal by DSH (nose Dawn Spencer Hurwitz): One is at a loss regarding the sheer choice of DSH oils and fragrances. Someone sent me this sample and it registered as a gently spicy affair worth of inclusion in this line-up.

*Fraîche Badiane by Maître Parfumer et Gantier: If you want a cool, bright summery scent to wear under azure skies, this is very pleasant. Like drinking cool lemonade while snacking on star anise-flavored cookies after a hot day in the countryside.

*Iris Nobile By Aqua di Parma: This citrusy iris is one of the most elegant around and if you're bored with irises smelling like carrots, you should try this one. The star anise gives just a hint of warmth. I love it!

*Jean Paul Gaultier Classique (nose Jacques Cavallier): Drenched in orange blossom of the synthetic variety that can become cloying, it is backed by copious vanilla and musks and it makes me wonder why it has been such a best seller all these years. It does have a great advertising campaign though, which is so witty as to render the contents of lesser importance to the eyes of the public.

*Méchant Loup by L'artisan (nose Bertraand Duchaufour): A woody oriental for men with the unusual heart of hazelnut, only it doesn't marry it to chocolate to get the perfect Nutella. Which is a shame, if you ask me...A spicy touch comes from star anise.

*Navegar by L'artisan (nose Olivia Giacobetti): A watery interpretation that doesn't go for the usual marine notes. Fresh and reminiscent of the high seas, I could wear this in summer. Notes: red pepper, ginger, lime, absolute rum, black pepper, incense, star anise, juniper, cedar wood, guaiac wood.

*Rive Gauche pour homme by YSL (nose Jacques Cavallier): Purpotedly "a warm blend of bergamot, star anise and rosemary, centered around a masculine heart of soothing lavender, geranium leaves, and clove bud, spiked with modern essences of vetiver, patchouli and Gaiac wood." Now that the feminine is not as I remember, I could make friends with this one, despite its whiff of cigarette smoke. Or is it because of it?

*Un parfum d'ailleurs et fleurs by The Different Company (nose Céline Ellena): I had reviewed it among its sister scents ending on the note that "the whole is inspired by a French style garden which if you know anything about gardening you will know is about submitting nature to man's will; although the moniker of the company is talking about an ode to the virginal purity and the tentative voluptuousness of nature". It's a pleasant citrusy floral with a subtle touch.

*Very Irresistible and Very Irresistible Sensual by Givenchy: For some reason I remain sorely unimpressed with the synthetic rosiness of both fragrances. It's good that the spiciness of star anise makes a brief appearence but does it suffice to save to day? The Sensual version adds strawberry with what seems like patchouli. I didn't need this and neither do you.

Painting Old Absinthe House (1933) by Guy Pène du Bois and Paris Rainy Days by Gustave Caillebotte, both courtesy of wikimedia commons. Pic of L'heure bleue ad through parfum de pub and of Mandragore bottle through Annick Goutal site.