The New Year Eve's celebration is always taking the biggest piece in the pie of festivities, ushering a new period of hope, dreams and expectations. To seal it off our fragrance choice tends to be festive, optimistic, hopeful and gorgeous (to us at least). With these criteria in mind I have personally chosen to wear Amouage Jubilation 25 which checks all boxes (and goes well with the subtle flesh-colored paillettes on my festive top). Mr.Perfume Shrine will be in his (and mine) favorite Cartier Declaration eau de toilette. What will you be wearing tonight?
In the meantime, here is a statistic of sorts (i.e.most mentions) of Reader's Favorites from 2014 (in our dedicated poll) which I promised as an addendum to our Best Fragrances of 2014 post posted yesterday.
Guerlain Shalimar and Mitsouko
Chanel Coromandel, No.5, Bois des Iles and Cristalle
Hermes Jour d'Hermes
Diptyque Philosykos and Geranium Odorata
Annick Goutal Ninfeo Mio
Tauer Perfumes Phi
Prada Infusion d'Iris
Ungaro Diva
Popular niche brands (apart from specific scents from the above brands) with lots of mentions include, in no particular order:
Tauer Perfumes
Mona di Orio
Annick Goutal
Frederic Malle
Vero Profumo
Serge Lutens
Patricia de Nicolai
L'Artisan Parfumeur
Tom Ford
Of course the readers of this blog are highly eclectic and have mentioned also lots of vintages, some cult vintages (some of which I had highlighted on this blog this past year, such as Laura Biagotti Roma, good on you!) and several indie/artisanal brands. They all bring something worthwhile to the table!
Have a very Happy New Year filled with love, hope, creativity and good health!
Showing posts sorted by date for query vero profumo. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query vero profumo. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Interview with Vero Kern on her new fragrance Mito
Vero Kern of Vero Profumo, a true author's line, talks in English about the newest fragrance to launch soon, Mito; for info on the new scent please consult our announcement on these pages.
Thanks to Extrait.it for the video.
Thanks to Extrait.it for the video.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Perfume Term: Animalic Notes, the Skanky Smell of Sexy
Frequenting perfume discussion communities and reading reviews online you often come across the term "animalic". Though its evocation is that of...animal, obviously, its significance is more layered, less simple, as we will explore.
Technically the term isn't even in the dictionary, or at the very least it is defined as "of or concerning animals". Yet the full story isn't restricted to that. Simply put an animalic perfume might do two things: 1)contain animal-derived products, i.e. raw materials directly harvested from animal sources or 2) evoke the animal in you, i.e. producing that "animalic growl" we associate with...well, you know.
I am going to explain both in detail, just let it be said in passing that the quoted phrase above was first used by (sadly) long-defunct blogger Cognoscenti back when she described scent in a visceral, highly imaginative way, both on her blog and on MakeupAlley. From then on, it caught on with most perfume reviewers online to the point it's become a foregone conclusion to almost hear the sound before reading the words.
But the etymology of "animalic" in perfumery has more to do with perfume molecule producing company Synarome's "perfumer's base" (i.e.a ready-made chord of complimentary ingredients for use when composing perfumes) called Animalis; a feral, thick mixture with prominent civet and castoreum (both traditionally animal-derived products), a claster of musks and costus root (To get an idea, this base is featured in both vintage Piguet Visa and in Vierge et Toreros by Etat Libre d'Orange and possibly Twill Rose by Parfums de Rosine). Actually, for accuracy's sake, Synarome has not one but two Animalis bases in their arsenal: Animalis 1745-03 (which is Tonkin musk like, very musky) and Animalis 5853 with woody and sensuous notes.
The first explanation of animalic refering to animal-derived ingredients is rather a fantasy than a fact nowadays nevertheless, since most companies ~major and niche, high-end and lower-end~ have stopped using these ingredients, either due to ethical reasons for the safe-keeping of the animals, or due to the high costs associated, or due to legislation forbidding the use of certain of them (for instance owning ambergris is considered illegal in certain countries).
Traditionally animal harvested ingredients included fecal and perineum region gland essences from the Tibetan deer musk (Tonquin musk), civet (from the civet cat Civettictis civeta, technically not a cat at all), castoreum (from beavers) and ambergris (from the sperm whale). Of those four, only ambergris can be said not to hurt, irritate or threaten the animal in any way, as it is naturally excreted by the whale and found floating in the ocean. You can consult the links for more info on each and every one of those ingredients.
The reason such essences were used for centuries is because they instilled a warmth that morphed other ingredients into greatness (this is especially true of civet which lets floral essences "bloom" on the skin; see the classic Tabu which uses civet to reinforce the carnality call of jasmine, carnation & patchouli and was actively briefed as un parfum de puta to its perfumer Jean Carles!). Or they acted as fixatives, i.e. prolonging the duration of the aromatic components enough so that they do not evaporate as quickly (for instance the musk base in the traditional Eau de Cologne was meant to provide a little bit of anchoring to the fleeting hesperidic top notes and the herbal heart).
They were also useful in producing certain "notes", for instance castoreum was often used as a "leather scent note" in leather perfumes. Makes sense as real urine (alongside cow dung and other animal essences) were traditionally used to treat hides in tanneries, lending hides a distinctly animalic scent which needed further "masking" with flowers. Did I just spoil your luxe fantasies? Sorry....
A good example where the leathery scent is clearly "animalic" -as in sweaty, horsey hide- is Paco Rabanne's La Nuit. A subtler example where the musky note recalls circus animals droppings amidst the sawdust smelled from afar is Dzing! by L'Artisan Perfumeur.And yet, these are fabulous perfumes, polarising yes, but with a strange pull to them.
These animalistic notes can also be provocative as hell; see Kiehl's Original Musk, Musc Ravageur by Editions de Parfums F.Malle , the intensely animal-like Ajmal Musk Gazelle or the undulating between polite society & barnyard tryst L'Air de Rien by Miller Harris. The effect? Same as in 1950s and 1960s trend of wearing leopard or cheetah-printed coats and accessories; there's something dangerous, wild, untamed about the person sporting such an item, be it fashions or perfume.
But animal-derived ingredients can expand (and indeed they have in many artisanal lines today) into more esoteric things than just musky smells, like "African stone" (dried excrement from hyrax, a small rodent, like in Lord Jester's Dionysus) or choya nak (essence from toasted sea-shells, such as in Fairchild by natural perfumer Anya mcCoy of Anya's Garden). The olfactory effects rendered by these innovative, non-classical essences can be surprising and very pleasing: Although initially sounding strange, they manage to evoke the intimacy and warmth of living things. Which is the whole point of "animalic" in the first place, isn't it.
Even indolic perfume notes or some varieties of synthesized musk fragrances (containing none of the natural deer musk) can fall into the umbrella of "animalic" should they be given a proper context to shine. Cumin can smell intimate like sweat if it's treated in a rich composition with spices. Costus root can be reminiscent of unwashed hair, in more intimate places than just head, as in vintage Fille d'Eve by Nina Ricci. Cassie can come across as womanly, ripe for the plucking. The mastery lies in the perfumer knowning what he/she's after.
The second explanation of the term "animalic" is perhaps more tortured, possibly the most elusive. How does one define what "brings out the animal", or maybe the anima -if we're to use Jungian terms- in you? Surely attraction, arousal, excitement of the senses is a highly individual thing. And why has this been tied to "dirty" smells, as in smells pertaining to the armpit, the vulva, the penis, the anus, the urethra and the region therein? As Jean Paul Guerlain, master perfumer at Guerlain perfume, used to say about his perfumes, they were made to subtly evoke his mistress's more intimate regions and that involved all three holes. Of course older Guerlains, before the times of Jean Paul, can be naughty in a more discreet way; Mouchoir de Monsieur or Voilette de Madame hide a polite civet note in there.
What is it about our nether regions that is so olfactorily attractive, as if we were dogs sniffing each other in the butt while exchanging social hellos?
Animalic is largely a subjective term in this sense pertaining to perfume (no one's crotch smells exactly the same as the person's next to them), especially since perfume is conceived and traditionally used as an adornment that should elevate us over our basest instincts; a sort of sophistication and refinement that differentiates man from beast. This is an interesting dichotomy and at the same time an irony. Some of the most revered and masterful fragrances are indeed comprised from base smells, smells of the lower instincts. But I wonder, how is man able to elevate himself over the animal if beforehand he doesn't embrace the animal in him and rejoice in its constituents?
Apparently when speaking about animalic perfumes there are a few parameters peeking through as a constant. An animalic scent should be warm, rich, creating an aura of lived-in things (this is in part the allure of "skin scents"), maybe a tad pungent, but overall giving off sexiness; sexiness in the sense of actually making you think about sex, not just media-broadcasted images of what we should consider sexy (perky full breasts, chiseled pectorals, globulal butts, you name it), but sexy as in down and dirty, in all our imperfections, in all our natural secretions sans deodorant.
This is why animalic is often uttered in the same breath as "skanky smelling", a term coined to denote on the one hand the sickly sweetish scent of skanks the animals themselves (with which many have not unpleasant associations), but also the promiscuous and physical nature of "skanks", the women who don't employ subtlety in their seduction routine, to put it politely. What is it about an overt display of sexuality that is so compelling, be it a manifestation in a feminine or a masculine fragrance interchanged between the sexes? What is it about smell which brings us to our more primitive level when the instinct of procreation, the instinct of sexual desire, the desire for life is conquering even the omnipresent fear of death?
In that regard, animalic scents can be said to encompass a wide grey area of fragrance taxonomy, from the outwardly civet-trumpeting fecal nuances such as in Bal a Versailles by Jean Desprez, the classic Schocking by Sciaparelli (based on a woman's odorata sexualis) and Tolu by Ormonde Jayne to the musk-evocing Muscs Kublai Khan (with added civet and castoreum notes) and Bois et Musc by Serge Lutens ~as well as the more hidden sexuality of musks & once real, now synthetic, civet in the drydown of lady-like Chanel No.5. There's the civet in "parfum de puta" (whore's brew) Tabu by Dana; this was verbatim the brief!
And from there to even more distant, unthought of arpeggios; such as the cumin-laced Femme by Rochas and Kingdom by Alexander McQueen; the ripe garbage stink beneath the lemon and melon freshness of Diorella; the cassie absolute in Une Fleur de Cassie (F.Malle) or the intense urinous scent of Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent and the gloriously honeyed "piss" in Absolue pour le Soir (Maison F.Kurkudjian) and Miel de Bois (Serge Lutens) ~thanks to the alchemy of phenylacetic acid. Chanel Antaeus and Yatagan by Caron are also rich in questionable scents, but oh so compelling. Yatagan by Caron is this direction's logical zenith.
Even citrusy, vivacious things can hide a sweaty, dirty skin quality beneath fresh notes (usually neroli and petitgrain are perfect foils for this sort of sweat scent masking, as they share a common component with sweat). Eau d'Hermès is one such example. Cartier Déclaration is another. Not coincidentally, the latter is loosely inspired by the former.
Sometimes the animal just lurks in the shadow, intimidating and breath-taking...Onda by Vero Profumo certainly creates that image; we sense its habitat, we guess it's there. Givenchy Gentleman is menacing. Sometimes it's in plain sight, more apparent and therefore less suggestive; think of the male parts smell that Rose Poivrée by The Different Company used to have until recently.
Animalic scents can create fear, like sex itself and its sheer potency has created fear in the minds of puritans and church-abiding citizens who made the rules in the past, in an effort to control what is perhaps most liberating in humans, sex drive itself. But animalic scents can also create real lust, intellectual appreciation and that most prized sentiment of them all: empathy for the human condition...
Technically the term isn't even in the dictionary, or at the very least it is defined as "of or concerning animals". Yet the full story isn't restricted to that. Simply put an animalic perfume might do two things: 1)contain animal-derived products, i.e. raw materials directly harvested from animal sources or 2) evoke the animal in you, i.e. producing that "animalic growl" we associate with...well, you know.
I am going to explain both in detail, just let it be said in passing that the quoted phrase above was first used by (sadly) long-defunct blogger Cognoscenti back when she described scent in a visceral, highly imaginative way, both on her blog and on MakeupAlley. From then on, it caught on with most perfume reviewers online to the point it's become a foregone conclusion to almost hear the sound before reading the words.
But the etymology of "animalic" in perfumery has more to do with perfume molecule producing company Synarome's "perfumer's base" (i.e.a ready-made chord of complimentary ingredients for use when composing perfumes) called Animalis; a feral, thick mixture with prominent civet and castoreum (both traditionally animal-derived products), a claster of musks and costus root (To get an idea, this base is featured in both vintage Piguet Visa and in Vierge et Toreros by Etat Libre d'Orange and possibly Twill Rose by Parfums de Rosine). Actually, for accuracy's sake, Synarome has not one but two Animalis bases in their arsenal: Animalis 1745-03 (which is Tonkin musk like, very musky) and Animalis 5853 with woody and sensuous notes.
The first explanation of animalic refering to animal-derived ingredients is rather a fantasy than a fact nowadays nevertheless, since most companies ~major and niche, high-end and lower-end~ have stopped using these ingredients, either due to ethical reasons for the safe-keeping of the animals, or due to the high costs associated, or due to legislation forbidding the use of certain of them (for instance owning ambergris is considered illegal in certain countries).
Traditionally animal harvested ingredients included fecal and perineum region gland essences from the Tibetan deer musk (Tonquin musk), civet (from the civet cat Civettictis civeta, technically not a cat at all), castoreum (from beavers) and ambergris (from the sperm whale). Of those four, only ambergris can be said not to hurt, irritate or threaten the animal in any way, as it is naturally excreted by the whale and found floating in the ocean. You can consult the links for more info on each and every one of those ingredients.
The reason such essences were used for centuries is because they instilled a warmth that morphed other ingredients into greatness (this is especially true of civet which lets floral essences "bloom" on the skin; see the classic Tabu which uses civet to reinforce the carnality call of jasmine, carnation & patchouli and was actively briefed as un parfum de puta to its perfumer Jean Carles!). Or they acted as fixatives, i.e. prolonging the duration of the aromatic components enough so that they do not evaporate as quickly (for instance the musk base in the traditional Eau de Cologne was meant to provide a little bit of anchoring to the fleeting hesperidic top notes and the herbal heart).
They were also useful in producing certain "notes", for instance castoreum was often used as a "leather scent note" in leather perfumes. Makes sense as real urine (alongside cow dung and other animal essences) were traditionally used to treat hides in tanneries, lending hides a distinctly animalic scent which needed further "masking" with flowers. Did I just spoil your luxe fantasies? Sorry....
A good example where the leathery scent is clearly "animalic" -as in sweaty, horsey hide- is Paco Rabanne's La Nuit. A subtler example where the musky note recalls circus animals droppings amidst the sawdust smelled from afar is Dzing! by L'Artisan Perfumeur.And yet, these are fabulous perfumes, polarising yes, but with a strange pull to them.
These animalistic notes can also be provocative as hell; see Kiehl's Original Musk, Musc Ravageur by Editions de Parfums F.Malle , the intensely animal-like Ajmal Musk Gazelle or the undulating between polite society & barnyard tryst L'Air de Rien by Miller Harris. The effect? Same as in 1950s and 1960s trend of wearing leopard or cheetah-printed coats and accessories; there's something dangerous, wild, untamed about the person sporting such an item, be it fashions or perfume.
But animal-derived ingredients can expand (and indeed they have in many artisanal lines today) into more esoteric things than just musky smells, like "African stone" (dried excrement from hyrax, a small rodent, like in Lord Jester's Dionysus) or choya nak (essence from toasted sea-shells, such as in Fairchild by natural perfumer Anya mcCoy of Anya's Garden). The olfactory effects rendered by these innovative, non-classical essences can be surprising and very pleasing: Although initially sounding strange, they manage to evoke the intimacy and warmth of living things. Which is the whole point of "animalic" in the first place, isn't it.
Even indolic perfume notes or some varieties of synthesized musk fragrances (containing none of the natural deer musk) can fall into the umbrella of "animalic" should they be given a proper context to shine. Cumin can smell intimate like sweat if it's treated in a rich composition with spices. Costus root can be reminiscent of unwashed hair, in more intimate places than just head, as in vintage Fille d'Eve by Nina Ricci. Cassie can come across as womanly, ripe for the plucking. The mastery lies in the perfumer knowning what he/she's after.
The second explanation of the term "animalic" is perhaps more tortured, possibly the most elusive. How does one define what "brings out the animal", or maybe the anima -if we're to use Jungian terms- in you? Surely attraction, arousal, excitement of the senses is a highly individual thing. And why has this been tied to "dirty" smells, as in smells pertaining to the armpit, the vulva, the penis, the anus, the urethra and the region therein? As Jean Paul Guerlain, master perfumer at Guerlain perfume, used to say about his perfumes, they were made to subtly evoke his mistress's more intimate regions and that involved all three holes. Of course older Guerlains, before the times of Jean Paul, can be naughty in a more discreet way; Mouchoir de Monsieur or Voilette de Madame hide a polite civet note in there.
What is it about our nether regions that is so olfactorily attractive, as if we were dogs sniffing each other in the butt while exchanging social hellos?
Animalic is largely a subjective term in this sense pertaining to perfume (no one's crotch smells exactly the same as the person's next to them), especially since perfume is conceived and traditionally used as an adornment that should elevate us over our basest instincts; a sort of sophistication and refinement that differentiates man from beast. This is an interesting dichotomy and at the same time an irony. Some of the most revered and masterful fragrances are indeed comprised from base smells, smells of the lower instincts. But I wonder, how is man able to elevate himself over the animal if beforehand he doesn't embrace the animal in him and rejoice in its constituents?
Apparently when speaking about animalic perfumes there are a few parameters peeking through as a constant. An animalic scent should be warm, rich, creating an aura of lived-in things (this is in part the allure of "skin scents"), maybe a tad pungent, but overall giving off sexiness; sexiness in the sense of actually making you think about sex, not just media-broadcasted images of what we should consider sexy (perky full breasts, chiseled pectorals, globulal butts, you name it), but sexy as in down and dirty, in all our imperfections, in all our natural secretions sans deodorant.
This is why animalic is often uttered in the same breath as "skanky smelling", a term coined to denote on the one hand the sickly sweetish scent of skanks the animals themselves (with which many have not unpleasant associations), but also the promiscuous and physical nature of "skanks", the women who don't employ subtlety in their seduction routine, to put it politely. What is it about an overt display of sexuality that is so compelling, be it a manifestation in a feminine or a masculine fragrance interchanged between the sexes? What is it about smell which brings us to our more primitive level when the instinct of procreation, the instinct of sexual desire, the desire for life is conquering even the omnipresent fear of death?
In that regard, animalic scents can be said to encompass a wide grey area of fragrance taxonomy, from the outwardly civet-trumpeting fecal nuances such as in Bal a Versailles by Jean Desprez, the classic Schocking by Sciaparelli (based on a woman's odorata sexualis) and Tolu by Ormonde Jayne to the musk-evocing Muscs Kublai Khan (with added civet and castoreum notes) and Bois et Musc by Serge Lutens ~as well as the more hidden sexuality of musks & once real, now synthetic, civet in the drydown of lady-like Chanel No.5. There's the civet in "parfum de puta" (whore's brew) Tabu by Dana; this was verbatim the brief!
And from there to even more distant, unthought of arpeggios; such as the cumin-laced Femme by Rochas and Kingdom by Alexander McQueen; the ripe garbage stink beneath the lemon and melon freshness of Diorella; the cassie absolute in Une Fleur de Cassie (F.Malle) or the intense urinous scent of Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent and the gloriously honeyed "piss" in Absolue pour le Soir (Maison F.Kurkudjian) and Miel de Bois (Serge Lutens) ~thanks to the alchemy of phenylacetic acid. Chanel Antaeus and Yatagan by Caron are also rich in questionable scents, but oh so compelling. Yatagan by Caron is this direction's logical zenith.
Even citrusy, vivacious things can hide a sweaty, dirty skin quality beneath fresh notes (usually neroli and petitgrain are perfect foils for this sort of sweat scent masking, as they share a common component with sweat). Eau d'Hermès is one such example. Cartier Déclaration is another. Not coincidentally, the latter is loosely inspired by the former.
Sometimes the animal just lurks in the shadow, intimidating and breath-taking...Onda by Vero Profumo certainly creates that image; we sense its habitat, we guess it's there. Givenchy Gentleman is menacing. Sometimes it's in plain sight, more apparent and therefore less suggestive; think of the male parts smell that Rose Poivrée by The Different Company used to have until recently.
Animalic scents can create fear, like sex itself and its sheer potency has created fear in the minds of puritans and church-abiding citizens who made the rules in the past, in an effort to control what is perhaps most liberating in humans, sex drive itself. But animalic scents can also create real lust, intellectual appreciation and that most prized sentiment of them all: empathy for the human condition...
Which are YOUR OWN favorite animalic perfumes?
mouchoir de monsieur bottle pic via insidekevinguyer.blogspot.com, of Dzing bottle via parfum-photo.livejournal.com
Friday, September 9, 2011
Becoming a Perfumer: When Changing Careers Midstream
She pops open a fresh bottle of something that takes a visitor's breath away - jasmine sambac concentrate.
"Careful!" warns Kern [Vero, of Vero Profumo]. "You wouldn't believe it, it's like petrol. But when you dilute it the nuances of the flower really come out. You really have to know these things."
An extended article by Susan Stone on Deutche Welle highlights the professional course into perfumery of two Swiss perfumers we know and love: Vero Kern of Vero Profumo and Andy Tauer of Tauer Perfumes.
Their impressive history showcases how you can follow your heart (and your nose!) even at 60 or how you can become an iternational success in what you love if you believe enough in it. In the article, the two perfumers explain how they took that decision, what it means to produce in Switzerland, and how costs are affected by the economic crisis. Read the whole article here.
article brought to my attention by sillage/pol. Photo via duftarchiv.de
"Careful!" warns Kern [Vero, of Vero Profumo]. "You wouldn't believe it, it's like petrol. But when you dilute it the nuances of the flower really come out. You really have to know these things."
An extended article by Susan Stone on Deutche Welle highlights the professional course into perfumery of two Swiss perfumers we know and love: Vero Kern of Vero Profumo and Andy Tauer of Tauer Perfumes.
Their impressive history showcases how you can follow your heart (and your nose!) even at 60 or how you can become an iternational success in what you love if you believe enough in it. In the article, the two perfumers explain how they took that decision, what it means to produce in Switzerland, and how costs are affected by the economic crisis. Read the whole article here.
article brought to my attention by sillage/pol. Photo via duftarchiv.de
Labels:
news,
perfumers speak,
press articles,
swiss
Monday, February 14, 2011
Fragrant Offerings (and more) for Valentine's Day
Beyond the juvenile "I love you" teddy-bears, the kitchy sentimental magnets and Hallmark postcards, Valentine's Day is just another chance to celebrate that which should be celebrated each day of the year: true love. And what is love but that force that surpasses all obstacles, all hindrances, to make possible the impossible?
In that vein and collaborating with The Non Blonde, my friend in arms Gaia, today we embark on a small homage to the world's most powerful god of them all: Eros or Cupid!
My first acquaintance with Scarborough Fair, the 16th century folk love ballad, had been in the version (immortally) sung by Simon & Garfunkel (contrapuncted with Canticle, a song about a soldier) in the iconic film of the 1960s The Graduate. Who can forget it, put into that memorable segment of chasing after phantoms? Yet other versions might focus our attention more to one "fragrant" passage in it, namely the line "parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme" which gets told and retold throughout.
More than meets the eye, Scarborough Fair talks about Love Magick. It talks about a couple who have been estranged: She has left him, he yearns for her and to rekindle their love, all delivered in a lengthy message over the song ("remember me to one who lives there, for once she was a true love of mine"), they exchange challenges consisting of impossible tasks which would prove they still have love for each other: she has to sew a cambric shirt with no seams or needle work, then wash it in a dry well, or find an acre of land between the sea and sand. Is it a reaffirmation of his pain or can love do the impossible?
The fragrant part of Scarborough Fair is indeed full of symbolism:
Thyme: Girls once used thyme sprigs in ceremonies to discover the identity of their true loves. A more upscale lady of Medieval times would embroider a flowering thyme sprig along with a visiting bee as a token to be given to a favored knight. A woman wearing thyme was once held to be irresistable.
Sage: Sage was once used to help childless couples conceive, and is associated with wisdom and longevity in plant lore. It was also used magically to honor weddings and to ensure domestic harmony.
Rosemary: Was once held to represent love and faithfulness. The plant was used in wedding ceremonies in place of rings as a sign of fidelity, and carried by newlyweds and wedding guests as a charm for fertility. But it also has the meaning of remembrance, as Shakespeare noted in Hamlet 'there's rosemary for remembrance.' Often used in love potions, it is also said to attract elves.
Parsley: It was once believed that only witches and pregnant women could grow this herb--Sow parsley, sow babes, was an old expression. The herb has been associated with witchcraft in England and also with death since ancient times. But more importantly, it is said to provoke lust and love.
Additionally, these herbs have long stood as "messages" to higher ends: Thyme stands for devotion, sage implies dependancy, rosemary (as Ophelia well knew) stands for remembrance, while parsley denotes a desire to procreate with said partner.
Keeping in mind these fragrant succulent herbs enter into many a delicious recipe (or even a scented herbal tea which lovers can share), perhaps the modern herbalism could recreate a powerful love potion, not only for Valentine's Day but for every day!
[source]
Music takes into other places as well, where the impossible is taking shape:
"Whatever love dreams,
life lets them stay dreams.
But whoever falls in love
turns pain into a prayer,
turns the kiss into a boat
and leaves abroad..."
True love is nevertheless often denied...due to inexperience. Or supressed manners. As in Lucy's and the reverent's case in E.M. Forster's A Room with a View (1985) where the possible becomes impossible for no apparent reason at all...until it dawns on her in the end.
Or it can be denied because it's just seems wrong. When it's possibly the only right thing in a messy situation.
In that vein and collaborating with The Non Blonde, my friend in arms Gaia, today we embark on a small homage to the world's most powerful god of them all: Eros or Cupid!
My first acquaintance with Scarborough Fair, the 16th century folk love ballad, had been in the version (immortally) sung by Simon & Garfunkel (contrapuncted with Canticle, a song about a soldier) in the iconic film of the 1960s The Graduate. Who can forget it, put into that memorable segment of chasing after phantoms? Yet other versions might focus our attention more to one "fragrant" passage in it, namely the line "parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme" which gets told and retold throughout.
More than meets the eye, Scarborough Fair talks about Love Magick. It talks about a couple who have been estranged: She has left him, he yearns for her and to rekindle their love, all delivered in a lengthy message over the song ("remember me to one who lives there, for once she was a true love of mine"), they exchange challenges consisting of impossible tasks which would prove they still have love for each other: she has to sew a cambric shirt with no seams or needle work, then wash it in a dry well, or find an acre of land between the sea and sand. Is it a reaffirmation of his pain or can love do the impossible?
Thyme: Girls once used thyme sprigs in ceremonies to discover the identity of their true loves. A more upscale lady of Medieval times would embroider a flowering thyme sprig along with a visiting bee as a token to be given to a favored knight. A woman wearing thyme was once held to be irresistable.
Sage: Sage was once used to help childless couples conceive, and is associated with wisdom and longevity in plant lore. It was also used magically to honor weddings and to ensure domestic harmony.
Rosemary: Was once held to represent love and faithfulness. The plant was used in wedding ceremonies in place of rings as a sign of fidelity, and carried by newlyweds and wedding guests as a charm for fertility. But it also has the meaning of remembrance, as Shakespeare noted in Hamlet 'there's rosemary for remembrance.' Often used in love potions, it is also said to attract elves.
Parsley: It was once believed that only witches and pregnant women could grow this herb--Sow parsley, sow babes, was an old expression. The herb has been associated with witchcraft in England and also with death since ancient times. But more importantly, it is said to provoke lust and love.
Additionally, these herbs have long stood as "messages" to higher ends: Thyme stands for devotion, sage implies dependancy, rosemary (as Ophelia well knew) stands for remembrance, while parsley denotes a desire to procreate with said partner.
Keeping in mind these fragrant succulent herbs enter into many a delicious recipe (or even a scented herbal tea which lovers can share), perhaps the modern herbalism could recreate a powerful love potion, not only for Valentine's Day but for every day!
[source]
Music takes into other places as well, where the impossible is taking shape:
Greek-cypriot singer Alkinoos Ioannidis sings "Whatever love dreams".
"Whatever love dreams,
life lets them stay dreams.
But whoever falls in love
turns pain into a prayer,
turns the kiss into a boat
and leaves abroad..."
Extreme sing beautifully "More than Words".
True love is nevertheless often denied...due to inexperience. Or supressed manners. As in Lucy's and the reverent's case in E.M. Forster's A Room with a View (1985) where the possible becomes impossible for no apparent reason at all...until it dawns on her in the end.
Or it can be denied because it's just seems wrong. When it's possibly the only right thing in a messy situation.
Clip from The Priest (1994): One of the most passionate kissing scenes I have ever seen.
My own perfume preferences for Valentine's Day wearing?
Grand Amour by Annick Goutal: Because "love is everything" and he never fails to notice.
Passion by Annick Goutal : Because he loves it so...
Molinard de Molinard : Because this was his first fragrant gift to me and it holds precious memories.
My own perfume preferences for Valentine's Day wearing?
Grand Amour by Annick Goutal: Because "love is everything" and he never fails to notice.
Passion by Annick Goutal : Because he loves it so...
Molinard de Molinard : Because this was his first fragrant gift to me and it holds precious memories.
Boxeuses by Serge Lutens : Because it's so darn sexy!
Amaranthine by Penhaligon's : Because a little skank never hurt no relationship.
Amaranthine by Penhaligon's : Because a little skank never hurt no relationship.
Hope your Valentine's Day is filled with passion and true-felt, beyond-the-commercial feelings!
Don't forget to visit Gaia's blog to read her own musings.
Don't forget to visit Gaia's blog to read her own musings.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
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
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
Friday, April 16, 2010
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)
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.
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 |
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.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
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:
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
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
Labels:
comparison,
eau de parfum,
kiki,
review,
rubj,
vero kern,
vero profumo,
versionsonda
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Les Parfums: Paris perfumes exhibition
From 2nd to 5th of October, Paris will be hosting the fragrance exhibition Les Parfums. A trade show aiming to highlight the new directions in perfumery and re-ignite the love for perfume, all hosted in the city that put scent on a pedestral. For professionals, the initiated and the neophytes, the trade show Les Parfums is free for all and will feature special prices on milestone perfumes from the houses hosted, a consultation and selling point of the best publications dedicated to fragrance, and meeting-up with some of the creators of the most prominent niche makers in today's market:
Amouage, Claudie Pierlot, Etat Libre d'Orange, Frank Los Angeles, Ginaluca Bulega Parfums, Isabey, Kalaris Milano, Linari, Mona di Orio, Neotantric Oasis, P.Frapin et cie, Parfum d'Empire, Parfums d'Orsay, Poiray, Robert Piguet, Susanne Lang, the Hype Noses, Vero Profumo.
The official site of Salon Les Parfums can be reached on this link (in French right now, but will feature an English speaking section shortly).
The exhibition Les Parfums will take place on 2-5 October from 9am to 6:30am (on Saturday till 8:30pm) at L'Atelier Richelieu, 60 rue de Richelieu, 75002, Paris
(Metro: Bourse, Pyramides, Palais Royal)
Have fun!
Amouage, Claudie Pierlot, Etat Libre d'Orange, Frank Los Angeles, Ginaluca Bulega Parfums, Isabey, Kalaris Milano, Linari, Mona di Orio, Neotantric Oasis, P.Frapin et cie, Parfum d'Empire, Parfums d'Orsay, Poiray, Robert Piguet, Susanne Lang, the Hype Noses, Vero Profumo.
The official site of Salon Les Parfums can be reached on this link (in French right now, but will feature an English speaking section shortly).
The exhibition Les Parfums will take place on 2-5 October from 9am to 6:30am (on Saturday till 8:30pm) at L'Atelier Richelieu, 60 rue de Richelieu, 75002, Paris
(Metro: Bourse, Pyramides, Palais Royal)
Have fun!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Il Profumo del Futuro: Pitti Immagine Fragrance Exhibition Florence
The 7th chapter of the Fragranze exhibition by Pitti Imagine, dedicated to the appreciation of artistic perfumery and niche brands will be held during Friday 11th to Sunday 13th September at Florence, Italy. The exhibition is focused on professionals, but is also open to the public on Saturday 12th (price admission 10 euros).
Participating perfumers and brands:
Céline Ellena, Pierre Guillaume, Mona di Orio, Clara Molloy, Honoré des Pres, Sigilli, Nasomatto, Les Parfums de Rosine, Biehl, Lorenzo Villoresi, Vero Kern, Etat Libre d’Orange, Esteban, Penhaligon’s, Byredo, Senke, Andy Tauer, Montale, Mark Buxton, Arturetto Landi, James Heeley, Eugenio Alphandery, Laboratorio Olfattivo, Creed, Miller Harris, Enrico Buccella, Felice Limosani, Annick Goutal, Christian David, Eau d’Italie, Pure Distance, By Terry, Jane Iredale, Laura Tonatto, Sebastian Alvarez Murena, L’Artisan Parfumeur, Bond n9, Maurizio Cerizza, Amouage, Etienne de Swardt, Lisa Simon, Marie Helene Rogeon (Rosine), Olivier Durbano.
Brands and perfumes featured:
Daimiris, Cozumel, Epic, Chaman’s Party, Bois Velours, Acqua Fiorentina, N.20, Blanche, Bois Plume, Alkemi, Oriental Lounge, Havana Vanille, Asprosa, Nuda, Ea, Alambar, Nu Green, Honoré’s Trip, Chaman’s Party, 3 Fleurs, Lime Tonic, Gardenia, Approdo, Futur, Midnight Oud, Chamarré, Cote d’Amour, Rum Tonic, La Rose Legere, Aouda, Night Scented Stock, Mare Nostrum, Nomaoud, Fat Electrician, Jabu, Versilia Vintage, Wazamba, Synthesized Lotus Roots.
Place and Time:
11-12-13 September 2009 from 10am to 6pm
Stazione Leopolda,
Via Fratelli Rosselli, Firenze/Florence
Forum event: Il Profumo del Futuro (fragrance of the future)
on 11th and 12th September 2009
Spazio Alcatraz – Stazione Leopolda
4 talk shows about new natural raw materials, global and regional odours, historical transformations of the olfactive sphere, and sensorial fusion (marrying perfume and wines)
You can download the programme on this link: press Calendario. You can also search for hotel reservations through the Pitti Imagine site (on previous link)
Friday, July 31, 2009
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
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
Monday, February 9, 2009
Frequent Questions: How to Seduce with your Perfume According to your Type
There are probably as many ways of seduction as there are women; and there are possibly as many ways of being seduced as there are men. But the human mind being formulaically responsive and often accepting "rules" when in fact there aren't any, one of the perennial questions buzzing around is how to attract and entice through the use of the oldest of accroutements: perfume! Tania Sanchez no doubt has a point that the surest way to gain a man's olfactory attention is bacon, but should you ever find that men are more sophisticated beings than dogs, there are subtler ways to accomplish your goals and pique someone's interest in exploring further and hopefully finding all the lovely things you have to offer. Because, honestly, perfume is wonderful, subliminal, even magical at times, and I should be wise to its charms obviously, but the most appealing scent is the one attached to a wonderful human being. But for our purposes, here is some guidance into choosing an attractive fragrance according to your style or the role you want to playfully incarnate, just in time for St.Valentine's Day. In no way conclusive, it only aims to offer a little fun.
For the friendly girl-next-door type:
Although we take it for granted, there's something to be said about the best things hiding under our noses. And nowhere is this more evident than in choosing a partner for a little casual relationship that can blossom to so much more. Men have been known to have a sweet spot for girls they can be friends with and the male mind seems to be wired so that they enjoy having a little erotic tension with them. The kind of woman for this is often funny, self-depreciating, smarter than you know and she can cuddle up in the couch watching a good round of basketball and those are qualities not to be ridiculed! The fragrances that exude that good-sport vibe are contemporary, well-crafted and with a light-hearted character that does not diminish their loveliness. In that arena the soapy clean ambience of the original Pleasures by Lauder with its spicy pepperiness later on has the touch of familiar, yet cozy. Men appreciate light, clean scents with a subtle hint of woody musk and in such a vein Cruel Gardénia by Guerlain accomplishes the coup with one swept feat if you disregard the completely misleading name. Another one in that abstract style with an indeterminate haze which has an almost universal appeal is Prada's Infusion d'Iris. A little almost edible quality can also be put to good use in the game of effortless seduction, especially when not too foody. The almondy trippy touch of Hypnotic Poison by Dior is popular for a reason and although the advertisements want to present it as a man-eater it is supremely friendly in its eau de toilette incarnation in which it asks to be taken to the back of a car and be nibbled on for hours on end. If you want to combine a little masculine touch along with the nutty edible edge, you can look no further than Vetiver Tonka available at Hermès boutiques. A spicy formula that acts as a kick for further communication could be Sienna Musk by Sonoma Scent Studio. And the familiar touch of usual masculine-fix lavender laced with an unexpected caramelic interlay that will have his taste buds wondering can be found in the very wearable and sexy Kiki by Vero Profumo.
For the mysterious vamp type:
If this type is mostly retained for the silver screen, there is nothing wrong with a little make-believe and a dusting of mysterious fairy-dust on everyday life. Every woman deserves to be able to get out of a pair of gloves Gilda-style once in her life or to dance the flamenco the way Ava Garner did and if this is your fantasy, fragrance offers a special touch to get in the mood ~you yourself, above all, which is the ultimate secret of seduction. For calculating schemes of grandes horizontales you will need a rich, slightly retro fragrance which won't remind him of his grandmother; not because she is old, mind you, but because the intentions behind those numbers are well beyond her capabilities right now I'd guess. Unless she is a vamp herself! (In which case, lucky you, to have a real life parable to watch and learn from!). There is something to be said about the insidious allure of Jean Desprez's Bal a Versailles and the regal air of Narcisse Noir by Caron. A mysterious film noir heroine might wear a couple of strategically placed drops of vintage Cabochard, a leathery chypre with headstrong tendencies. Or Paloma Picasso Mon Parfum , fit for fiery and less sang froid seductresses, who could be swept off their feet themselves by their passions, yet wreck havoc wherever they go. The warm, inviting Tolu by Ormonde Jayne is less outwardly bombastic, but none the less impressive for its animalic tonality which hints at an unbridled sexuality that will surely end up hurting someone.
For the girl-can't-help-it type:
Some women are bursting at the seams and it seems like they exude a naturally endowed charm that encompasses the childlike playfulness with the sensuous appreciation of life that attracts not only men but practically everyone: women, children and animals follow as well. The type is rarer than it seems at first, of course. Prime examples included Marilyn Monroe and it's a delicate balance between appearing exuberant and risking ridicule, so proceed carefully. Lush, carnal fragrances with potent white flowers are by nature generous and in that realm the wonderfully modern, natural smelling tuberose of Carnal Flower by F.Malle is heavy artillery for serious affairs of the heart. The generosity of edible violets flambées on an amber bed hiding inside Guerlain's Attrape Coeur is unsurpassable. If your scheming is envisioned in a tropical surrounding amidst the lush foliage of jasmine vines, then the Venus-flytrap of jasmine fragrances is your best bet: Jasmin Full by Montale is full to the brim! If you're more taken with the jaminess of rich roses, then Liaisons Dangereuses from the By Kilian brand is your surest bet.
Although more restrained and with no discernable big flowers, Rykiel Woman, not for men! sets out to consign its goals from the get-go. A composition that is playful, as warm as a mohair sweater, smart as a whip and giving like a tender mother all at the same time can't but win you over easily. Only to be sought for in the excellent Eau de Parfum concentration; the completely different in smell Eau de Toilette version is nothing to write home about.
For the professional woman eager to let her hair down type:
If it's not bad enough that fragrance is kept to a minimum at the workplace for reasons of courtesy to others, there is also a certain image attached to professional women ~especially very successful ones or ones who hold a position of power. They are deemed detached, a little "cold" and aloof possibly, a little unapproachable. But ever so often, this is just a façade when inside there is a sensuous human being who wants to loosen up and be seen in another way, even if she doesn't have the time to resort to a whole transformation at home before hitting the posh bar for drinks with an eligible bachelor. Her fragrance should have a veneer of polish, while underneath there is a naughtiness that hints at antique rose lace underwear under the strict pantsuit. The pristine good taste of Calèche by Hermès is ladylike on the outset only to hint at an articulate sensuality underneath. The original Armani pour Femme is a chypre so densely rich and opulent it makes you swoon. Iris Poudre by F.Malle has the right touch of airy transparency to make it unobtrusive and the correct dosage of discreet earthiness in the form of luxuriant iris at the background suggesting more intimate ideas. The equivalent of the softest pashmina over bare shoulders, it is a fragrance to transport you above all and make you feel utterly feminine and vulnerable. The bittersweet, discreet vibrato of Douce Amère by Serge Lutens is the perfect accompaniment to an appearence that hides more than it reveals.
For the incurable romantic type:
Perfume is a traditional romantic gift and as such it is laden with lots of associations, memories and reminiscences about relationships past and present and sometimes even subtle innuendo (Remember how Scarlett O'Hara was advised not to accept scented gifts from her many beaux?). There are women who always smile watching Jimmy Steward in "A Wonderful Life" and shed a tear at the final scenes of "An Affair to Remember". Women who like their night gowns trimmed with a little broderie anglaise, their literature peppered with Jane Austen and their fragrances with a touch of floral. Although they're certainly not spoilt for choice, as there are plenty of romantic fragrances around, there are some which are achingly beautiful to match. Chamade by Guerlain is one such composition ~from the name evoking the French phrase "battre la chamade" (inspired by the homonymous drumroll signifying retreat during the Napoleonic Wars) to the lush hyacinth heart with a touch of blackcurrant buds, it is a romantic to end all romantics. The exquisite loveliness of a simple, yet ethereal lily and vanilla mélange is found in Un Lys by Serge Lutens: the last dying breath of an angel in paradise... The embullient rose that is Paris by Yves Saint Laurent has a nostalgic tinge of violets and is so tremendously feminine that it sets the mood by itself.
For the brainy or bohemian type:
If you belong to this subcategory, you're probably reading this article with a healthy dose of scepticism and nodding your head "yeah, yeah, wonder how I would ever fit!". The simple answer is you would not. And most people detest being typecast, so you would never admit to even if you would. But that's perfectly all right, because this is the type of woman that would have to first seduce herself through her choice of perfume and then everyone else. And this is part of the wonderful path of self-discovery, of identity mapping, of evolving of one's sensibilities, tastes and preferences that we call "life". There is no specific fingerprint and the following suggestions are as diverse as the tastes of women belonging in this category. The decadently luxurious iris cloud atop a nappa couch that is Cuir de Russie by Chanel, especially in parfum form, is a natural fit for when you want to exude your most intelligent without foregoing your most beautiful side. The carnal nature of tropical white florals paired with the raw savagery of vetiver as incarnated in Manoumalia by Les Nez is beautifully intriguing. The narcissus and leather mixed with dirt of L'artisan's Fleur de Narcisse as well as the more intimate, naughtier come-hither of L'air de Rien by Miller Harris can be weapons of quirky seduction. And of course if the edgily different and exotic story behind Aziyade by Parfum d'Empire casts a spell on your soul, then the fragrance with its sexy spice interlay atop immortelle might have you feeling like the sexiest harem girl who's reciting Rilke while dancing this side of the Golden Horn.
Pics from top: When Harry met Sally, Body Heat, The Seven Year Itch, Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, Pride and Prejudice, Mullholland Drive courtesy of community.livejournal/ohnotheydidn't, news.bbc.co.uk, en-easyart.com
For the friendly girl-next-door type:
Although we take it for granted, there's something to be said about the best things hiding under our noses. And nowhere is this more evident than in choosing a partner for a little casual relationship that can blossom to so much more. Men have been known to have a sweet spot for girls they can be friends with and the male mind seems to be wired so that they enjoy having a little erotic tension with them. The kind of woman for this is often funny, self-depreciating, smarter than you know and she can cuddle up in the couch watching a good round of basketball and those are qualities not to be ridiculed! The fragrances that exude that good-sport vibe are contemporary, well-crafted and with a light-hearted character that does not diminish their loveliness. In that arena the soapy clean ambience of the original Pleasures by Lauder with its spicy pepperiness later on has the touch of familiar, yet cozy. Men appreciate light, clean scents with a subtle hint of woody musk and in such a vein Cruel Gardénia by Guerlain accomplishes the coup with one swept feat if you disregard the completely misleading name. Another one in that abstract style with an indeterminate haze which has an almost universal appeal is Prada's Infusion d'Iris. A little almost edible quality can also be put to good use in the game of effortless seduction, especially when not too foody. The almondy trippy touch of Hypnotic Poison by Dior is popular for a reason and although the advertisements want to present it as a man-eater it is supremely friendly in its eau de toilette incarnation in which it asks to be taken to the back of a car and be nibbled on for hours on end. If you want to combine a little masculine touch along with the nutty edible edge, you can look no further than Vetiver Tonka available at Hermès boutiques. A spicy formula that acts as a kick for further communication could be Sienna Musk by Sonoma Scent Studio. And the familiar touch of usual masculine-fix lavender laced with an unexpected caramelic interlay that will have his taste buds wondering can be found in the very wearable and sexy Kiki by Vero Profumo.
For the mysterious vamp type:
If this type is mostly retained for the silver screen, there is nothing wrong with a little make-believe and a dusting of mysterious fairy-dust on everyday life. Every woman deserves to be able to get out of a pair of gloves Gilda-style once in her life or to dance the flamenco the way Ava Garner did and if this is your fantasy, fragrance offers a special touch to get in the mood ~you yourself, above all, which is the ultimate secret of seduction. For calculating schemes of grandes horizontales you will need a rich, slightly retro fragrance which won't remind him of his grandmother; not because she is old, mind you, but because the intentions behind those numbers are well beyond her capabilities right now I'd guess. Unless she is a vamp herself! (In which case, lucky you, to have a real life parable to watch and learn from!). There is something to be said about the insidious allure of Jean Desprez's Bal a Versailles and the regal air of Narcisse Noir by Caron. A mysterious film noir heroine might wear a couple of strategically placed drops of vintage Cabochard, a leathery chypre with headstrong tendencies. Or Paloma Picasso Mon Parfum , fit for fiery and less sang froid seductresses, who could be swept off their feet themselves by their passions, yet wreck havoc wherever they go. The warm, inviting Tolu by Ormonde Jayne is less outwardly bombastic, but none the less impressive for its animalic tonality which hints at an unbridled sexuality that will surely end up hurting someone.
For the girl-can't-help-it type:
Some women are bursting at the seams and it seems like they exude a naturally endowed charm that encompasses the childlike playfulness with the sensuous appreciation of life that attracts not only men but practically everyone: women, children and animals follow as well. The type is rarer than it seems at first, of course. Prime examples included Marilyn Monroe and it's a delicate balance between appearing exuberant and risking ridicule, so proceed carefully. Lush, carnal fragrances with potent white flowers are by nature generous and in that realm the wonderfully modern, natural smelling tuberose of Carnal Flower by F.Malle is heavy artillery for serious affairs of the heart. The generosity of edible violets flambées on an amber bed hiding inside Guerlain's Attrape Coeur is unsurpassable. If your scheming is envisioned in a tropical surrounding amidst the lush foliage of jasmine vines, then the Venus-flytrap of jasmine fragrances is your best bet: Jasmin Full by Montale is full to the brim! If you're more taken with the jaminess of rich roses, then Liaisons Dangereuses from the By Kilian brand is your surest bet.
Although more restrained and with no discernable big flowers, Rykiel Woman, not for men! sets out to consign its goals from the get-go. A composition that is playful, as warm as a mohair sweater, smart as a whip and giving like a tender mother all at the same time can't but win you over easily. Only to be sought for in the excellent Eau de Parfum concentration; the completely different in smell Eau de Toilette version is nothing to write home about.
For the professional woman eager to let her hair down type:
If it's not bad enough that fragrance is kept to a minimum at the workplace for reasons of courtesy to others, there is also a certain image attached to professional women ~especially very successful ones or ones who hold a position of power. They are deemed detached, a little "cold" and aloof possibly, a little unapproachable. But ever so often, this is just a façade when inside there is a sensuous human being who wants to loosen up and be seen in another way, even if she doesn't have the time to resort to a whole transformation at home before hitting the posh bar for drinks with an eligible bachelor. Her fragrance should have a veneer of polish, while underneath there is a naughtiness that hints at antique rose lace underwear under the strict pantsuit. The pristine good taste of Calèche by Hermès is ladylike on the outset only to hint at an articulate sensuality underneath. The original Armani pour Femme is a chypre so densely rich and opulent it makes you swoon. Iris Poudre by F.Malle has the right touch of airy transparency to make it unobtrusive and the correct dosage of discreet earthiness in the form of luxuriant iris at the background suggesting more intimate ideas. The equivalent of the softest pashmina over bare shoulders, it is a fragrance to transport you above all and make you feel utterly feminine and vulnerable. The bittersweet, discreet vibrato of Douce Amère by Serge Lutens is the perfect accompaniment to an appearence that hides more than it reveals.
For the incurable romantic type:
Perfume is a traditional romantic gift and as such it is laden with lots of associations, memories and reminiscences about relationships past and present and sometimes even subtle innuendo (Remember how Scarlett O'Hara was advised not to accept scented gifts from her many beaux?). There are women who always smile watching Jimmy Steward in "A Wonderful Life" and shed a tear at the final scenes of "An Affair to Remember". Women who like their night gowns trimmed with a little broderie anglaise, their literature peppered with Jane Austen and their fragrances with a touch of floral. Although they're certainly not spoilt for choice, as there are plenty of romantic fragrances around, there are some which are achingly beautiful to match. Chamade by Guerlain is one such composition ~from the name evoking the French phrase "battre la chamade" (inspired by the homonymous drumroll signifying retreat during the Napoleonic Wars) to the lush hyacinth heart with a touch of blackcurrant buds, it is a romantic to end all romantics. The exquisite loveliness of a simple, yet ethereal lily and vanilla mélange is found in Un Lys by Serge Lutens: the last dying breath of an angel in paradise... The embullient rose that is Paris by Yves Saint Laurent has a nostalgic tinge of violets and is so tremendously feminine that it sets the mood by itself.
For the brainy or bohemian type:
If you belong to this subcategory, you're probably reading this article with a healthy dose of scepticism and nodding your head "yeah, yeah, wonder how I would ever fit!". The simple answer is you would not. And most people detest being typecast, so you would never admit to even if you would. But that's perfectly all right, because this is the type of woman that would have to first seduce herself through her choice of perfume and then everyone else. And this is part of the wonderful path of self-discovery, of identity mapping, of evolving of one's sensibilities, tastes and preferences that we call "life". There is no specific fingerprint and the following suggestions are as diverse as the tastes of women belonging in this category. The decadently luxurious iris cloud atop a nappa couch that is Cuir de Russie by Chanel, especially in parfum form, is a natural fit for when you want to exude your most intelligent without foregoing your most beautiful side. The carnal nature of tropical white florals paired with the raw savagery of vetiver as incarnated in Manoumalia by Les Nez is beautifully intriguing. The narcissus and leather mixed with dirt of L'artisan's Fleur de Narcisse as well as the more intimate, naughtier come-hither of L'air de Rien by Miller Harris can be weapons of quirky seduction. And of course if the edgily different and exotic story behind Aziyade by Parfum d'Empire casts a spell on your soul, then the fragrance with its sexy spice interlay atop immortelle might have you feeling like the sexiest harem girl who's reciting Rilke while dancing this side of the Golden Horn.
Pics from top: When Harry met Sally, Body Heat, The Seven Year Itch, Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, Pride and Prejudice, Mullholland Drive courtesy of community.livejournal/ohnotheydidn't, news.bbc.co.uk, en-easyart.com
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