Monday, August 23, 2010

Back...

It's not easy to drift back into routine after immersing oneself into the paradisial and atmospheric Santa Marina, but one has to, I guess. So expect a post later today and hope you have had a great time while I was gone, too!

Thursday, August 5, 2010

It's My Life...



...and I'll do what I want and what I want right now is vacationing! So depending on whether Internet connection is available while I'm travelling, these pages will be perhaps updated. I will "see" you all shortly. Keep smelling good!
Photo taken by robw on flickr, Some Rights Reserved

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

If it smells good and enough people like it and buy it all the time, , constantly, it becomes a classic

It's in those terms that Rochelle Bloom, president of the Fragrance Foundation, the educational non-profit center devoted to fine fragrance, explains the fact that 7 out of the 10 top sellers in the US have remained the same in the last 10 years. The notiong of "modern classic", thus defined. The only thing remaining to be clarified is what smells "good". Apparently Forbes reports several interesting tidbits, one of which is that perfume companies are not playing their distribution channels smartly: Mary J.Blige's new fragrance is sold through the Home Shopping Network, so buyers buy before even sniffing! And they do let on about what makes for the popularity stakes: "According to the NPD Group, a market research company that tracks fragrance sales, the top five best-selling prestige fragrance brands sold in U.S. department stores in 2009 were:
1. Chanel's Coco Mademoiselle (2001)
2. Giorgio Armani's Acqua Di Gio Pour Homme (1997)
3. Estee Lauder's Beautiful (1985)
4. Dolce and Gabbana's Light Blue (2001)
5. Chanel's Chanel No. 5 (1921)"
White Diamonds by Elizabeth Taylor is a firm favourite in the top-10 of mass appeal, ever since its launch in 1991.
Ancilary products are another way of adding cachet & sales to the scented routine. Nourish your skin with skin care lotion and add Sarah Jessica Parker perfume for extra results.That would be one example of toping up the experience, wouldn't it.

In contrast the Top 10 Best Selling Fragrances in France according to popular L'Internaute are:
1. Angel by Thierry Mugler
2. Lolita Lempicka by Lolita Lempicka
3. Flower by Kenzo
4. Allure by Chanel
5. Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel
6. J'Adore by Dior
7. No.5 by Chanel
8. Shalimar by Guerlain
9. Dior Addict
10. Samsara by Guerlain

Discuss!

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Scents of the Mediterranean


The tomatoes have just sprouted; the sun had bathed the nascent roots, the soil had fondled them, moist, warm and fertile. Uncle beckoning us children to the field: "come, eat, fresh from the vine!" Some water, cut in two, the mouth bursting with the flavours of sweet and slightly sour, full of aroma unreplicated in any bought variety. Cucumbers sliced, the fresh, sweet smell permeting the kitchen. The small leaves off the tomato vine are kept for marinades and sprinkling over feta cheese. Folavril. Basil pots on the window ledge. Olive trees all around, shadowing over the dining table, olives on the table in endless varieties: big and blue-black like a bruise, bitter-salty from the brine; small black and wrinkly and very sweet; almond-shaped Kalamata ones, with glistening skins and fatty-bitter taste; green ones looking almost raw, the pit substituted by a whole blanched almond. We accompany with an aromatic Robola wine. Santa Maira Novela Mavrorachi and Sienne l'Hiver transported to a tiny Greek island across the Holy Monastic Mountain of Athos.
Cicadas singing incessantly throughout noon and the heat is rising, vehicles coming closer with that "liquid" motion we see on the silver screen when they cross the endless American roads of the west. The turmac is almost melting, the big blue calling, only a fea minutes' drive away on the island. Solace inside a cool white church, fanning oneself with a Spanish fan, putting some ice-soaked hankerchief on the forehead and nape of the neck. Walls smelling of old fresco stucco, remnants of frankincense and melted wax from the beeswax candles put in bronze-bordered sand trays for the pious. Silence.... The old priest, tall and dressed in by now faded black takes off his kalimafhi from his head and sits down, wrought with the heat. He offers us almonds and sour cherries in suryp with a smile: the "spoon sweets" which greeted visitors at even the humblest house, chased by a glass of ice-cold water. Braced, we begin our journey to the edge of the island, all the way to Palaiochora searching for the small fragments of the fort that pirate Hayreddin Barbarossa destroyed in 1539. The countryside is chaotically scattered with wild herbs, thyme, oregano, bay, chamomile, sage, labdanum; we roll the car windows down and inhale deeply this humble marvel of nature. L'Eau Trois, Sables.



Nudists at the "baths" of the Neda river in the south Peloponnese. The foliage in the trees is rustling. The scent of moist soil, the fallen dead leaves mush on the ground. The wind is changing, autumn is coming quickly. Someone is playing melancholic greek songs on the baglama. Pin resin, Fille en Aiguilles.
The children are rolling on bicycles in Keffalonia central square, their silhouettes a dark contrast on the fuschia walls. Housewives are baking baklava, the spices of cinnamon, clove and nutmeg in the air. Some kids are dripping with mastic "submarine" (a dollop of mastic and glycose paste into a glass of cold water and licked off). 06310 Lentisque.
Dip in the Aegean sea, salt still remaining on the skin, I can almost lick it off, it's so dense! The laziness of the sun making our limps become putty. The barren rocky terrain scattered with immortelle flowers, dry and dusty. I take a fat piece of watermelon off my bag and a chunck of salty feta cheese kept on a block of ice to cut the sweetness; the sticky red juice is dribling down my chin and on the top of my bikini, mingling with my sweat and my Ambre Solaire, but I don't care. The seaside taverna has already put octopi on the rope, drying them out before they get marinated and smoked for dinner. The salty, inky aroma is wafting thanks to the breeze and the coals are set: the smoky, stinky trail whets my appetite; I'm longing for the anise flavour of ouzo to accompany my fried calamari. I'm longing to have my tanned back caressed by the one awaiting me.



A local is washing the white floor squeeky clean. My eyes dazzle from the reflected white. The sugarcube maze of the town is blindingly white! Greek coffee prepared on the hot sand stove, with lots of kaimak. The table setting simple and chic. The coffee powder remainings crunchy on the tongue before overturning the small demitasse so that the debris drips, its dried out patterns used to tell one's destiny. "You will be successful, you will find love..."



Branches of figs engulf everything with their thick shadow. Their milky sap is still bitter, an edge of coconut smell, the leaves are wide and dusty; they look dusty even if you have just washed them, they feel dusty. We pick the fruit to see whether it's edible, the small sacs haven't really become heavy with those scattered little seeds. Disappointment. The seeds which Minoan inhabitants of Akrotiri, Santorini, used to eat before the great volcano eruption in 1500BC. We contemplate eternity, weary after overlooking another excavation. Philosykos, Premier Figuier, and Un Jardin en Mediterranee. Tall cypresses flanking the cool catacombs in Tripiti on the Milos island, the mineral dryness of Eau de Gentiane Blanche.



The stars are shinning brightly on a pitch black sky, so clear and transparent, you think you can reach out your hand and seize them. The air around is full with the concentrated, heady scent of jasmine vines, A la Nuit. First kisses in the cobblestone alleys, under the rampant bougainvillas, the intoxication of budding love filling the mind. Lovers embracing fondly, tenderly, promising the stars under the bright moon, as deep yellow golden and shiny in August like a konstantinato. Sex on the beach late at night before the break of sun, like the first people on earth. Like the only people on earth...The eternal romance of the Mediterranean and of Greece.



Clip from the Greek film "Epiheirisis Apollon", 1968 or "Apollo Goes on Holiday" 1968 directed by George Skalenakis with Elena Nathanael, Thomas Fritsch, Athinodoros Prousalis etc.


Clip from the Greek film Gorgones kai Mages (Mermaids and Tough Guys) 1968, directed by Yiannis Dalianidis starring Mary Hronopoulou and Lakis Komnenos.

This co-blogging project was organised by Ines at
All I am a Redhead. Please visit the other participants as well:

All I Am - A Redhead, A Rose Beyond the Thames, Bonkers About Perfume, Eiderdown Press, I Smell Therefore I Am,Illuminated Perfume,Katie Puckrik Smells, Notes From the Ledge, Olfactafama, Perfume in Progress, Scent Hive, Smellyblog, Hortus Conclusus, The Non Blonde, Under the Cupola, Waft by Carol

All photos used under Creative Commons via Flick by strudelmonkey, mnadi, la Part des anges, br0wser, artolog, elizabeth V

Friday, July 30, 2010

Estee Lauder Sensuous Noir: new fragrance

Estée Lauder had created a woody amber for women called Sensuous in 2008, luminous and uncharacteristically woody for the brand's feminine audience. The newest interpretation of that concept, just launching for the holiday season, is Sensuous Noir, a more intense expression which takes the original’s "molten woods" accord and adds floral depth and mystery.

According to Karyn Khoury, senior vice president of corporate fragrance development worldwide, The Estée Lauder Companies: “Sensuality as an experience and as an emotion has a very broad spectrum of expression. There are many moods, many facets, and many shades of sensuality, which range from the more luminous expression of Sensuous to deeper, darker, more mysterious expressions. This concept of exploring a darker, more mysterious olfactive territory and deeper shades of sensuality inspired the creation of Sensuous Noir.” [source]
Sensuous Noir is based on a chord of melted wood nature print, honey and amber but the floral aspects have been intensified: The fragrance encompasses exotic purple rose, rose essence and spiced lily, to evoke a midnight garden aura. “Queen of the Night,” alongside black pepper accent the scent with sweet headiness and spice respectively. The base includes "Crème Noir Accord" and Patchouli Prisma, alongside benzoin, honey, amber and vanilla, making for a gourmand take on woody.
The bottle of the flanker fragrance echoes the design of the original, only now dressed in mysterious purple.
Sensuous Noir will be available at all Estée Lauder counters in September 2010, the eau de parfum retails for $60, for the 1.7 oz/50 ml, and $48 for the 1.0 oz/30 ml. Additional information is available at: www.esteelauder.com.

Soapy Fragrances: More than Just a Matter of Clean

~"Father dear, will you not make ready for me a wagon, with strong wheels, that I may take to the river for washing the fine clothes that I have lying dirty here?" (Nausicaa to Alcinous. Homer6.57).

~"My hands are of your colour; but I shame
To wear a heart so white. [Knock]
I hear a knocking
At the south entry: retire we to our chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it, then!
(Lady Macbeth speaking to her husband, Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act II scene 2)

~The scene: Drab British police station of the early 1960s, Christine Keeler leaves after being interrogated on accusations of prostitution.
Police officer murmuring under his breath, convinced of her guilt: "I can smell the pink Camay on them..."
(from the film Scandal, 1989 focused on the Profumo affair)

From the feeling of well-being in classical times (when people used a mix of ashes and olive oil) to the purification concept in later Christianity, all the way to its ambiguous modern connotations of both Puritanical "cleanliness next to godliness" and the loaded innuendo of superficially washing away improper smells deriving from fornication (hence the term παστρικιές to denote whores) , the history of soap is full of interesting trivia and manifestations of perception put before smell. A little soap and water talk loudly. The advertisements of soap, especially, both reflect the culture and create it. Functionality, purity, preservence of youth, sensitive complexion caring, well-being & grooming, a lingering trail of freshness...

Soapy fragrances in many ways carry on where the humble bar of soap left off. And they constitute a subdivision of "dry" scents (explored here in more detail). Although in our modern germ-phobic environment they present a solace of "clean" amidst all the pollution, a form of "olfactory safety bubble" as well as a safe choice in an office environment, it was not always so. They used to hint at social status, meaning the wearer could afford daily baths with hot water, a refined taste for delicate smells instead of bombastic heavies and a predeliction for the fine several-times milled Savon de Marseille, based on pure olive oil same as the Greek varieties, still today produced with the primitive and oh-so-nostalgic methods of air-drying. It's a reflection on luxury, on perception, on reverse snobbery too. L'Eau Serge Lutens cemented this for eternity.
When someone casually asks shrugging the shoulders "why not just take a shower?", they're not realising that there's more to soapy scents than a simple scrub me down with just any soap. Cast your mind back to the (fictional) Ogilvy Sisters Soap admired by the protagonists on a young Gabrielle Anwar in the cinematic remake of Scent of a Woman. [watch the clip]

But what does "soapy" mean in fragrance terms? The term is usually used to refer to fragrances which smell like soap. Mind you, not the current, frou frou varieties that are further aromatized with God-knows-what (berries, marshmallows, you name it!), but some of the classic soaps like Ivory, Lux, Camay, Pears and Dove. Their alkaline smell that reads as both bitter and sweet, their vague floralcy, their unmistakeable trail of something man-made...as soap truly is. "Man-made" might be an accurate term, yet it might also connote artificial, and in turn shallow and undesireable, especially in a field such as perfume where many perfume enthusiasts do not like synthetic base notes and complain about perfumes smelling increasingly as if they come from creative lab composing instead of naturally derived materials. Yet by their very nature, soapy fragrances rest on creative lab composing.



When Ernest Beaux presented Coco Chanel the iconic No.5 when Coco has asked him for a perfume that "smells like a woman and not a rose bed", that cluster of citric-soapy aldehydes ~specifically C10, C11, C12 thus code-named by chemists to show the number of carbon atoms they contain~ recalled cleansing rituals. But the association was not fully formed yet. In fact the reverse was the case: Aldehydes, first discovered in the lab in the late 19th century (Fougère Royale -Royal Fern- by Paul Parquet for Houbigant in 1882 was the first perfume to feature them) really became popular after the introduction and commercial success of Chanel No.5 (and its successor for the American market, No.22). Even today Chanel exploits that "clean" honeyed-aldehydic vibe in their offerings: Beige in their Les Exclusifs line is a case in point. On the strength of that popularity, several soaps were onwards aromatized with the aldehydic "bouquet" present in the famous fragrance, thus ensuring them recognisability and familiarity as well as a "classy" image (Several "rustic" artisanal varieties on several parts of the world don't smell aldehydic).

Nevertheless aldehydic does not necessarily equate "soapy" per se, nor vice versa. Some aldehydic fragrances include hints of soapiness (Piguet's Baghari, Madame Rochas, Rive Gauche, Revillon's Detchema, Fleurs de Rocaille, Calèche, Nude by Bill Blass) but they do not immediately read as "soap" the same way that others do. For instance, take a bottle of Sicily by Dolce & Gabanna: pure, fat, alkaline soap garlanded with musky accents. And yet Sicily is aldehydic! So is White Linen, a descendant of Chanel's No.22 with more piercing notes and less sweetness. Confused much? It might be easier if I specified that it depends on which direction the perfumer wants to tilt the pendulum. See Essence by Narciso Rodriguez: a contemporary soapy via over-stretching aldehydes.

Several other elements, especially traditionally soap-entering florals such as rose, jasmine and iris with a good dose of lily of the valley (muguet) and citrus/verbena, also give an impression of soapy. L'Occitane Eau de Quatre Reines takes a sudsy approach to rose (and in some part so does Joy by Patou). Creed Original Vetiver a similar one to the eastern grass by the same name, Pure White Linen by Lauder does the trick with a bone-dry lily of the valley. Lily of the valley is treacherous ground: too much of the synths used to replicate it and the fragrance might start resembling a scrubbed-down bathroom, due to its ubiquitness in functional products.

Dove on the other hand is a soap with an identity crisis of the most delightful variety: The synthetic irones (as in iris) create a smooth, delicate scent almost as good as perfume; it's a mystery why a fine fragrance based on that smell hasn't been created yet taking in mind many adore it.
Other fragrant examples rely on synthetic musks and not much flowers. The "just out of the shower" smell was heavily advertised, burnt on our cortex first by the advertising of Glow by Jennifer Lopez in 2000. From then on, things catapulted and the bastion of "shower-fresh" smells heavily relying on musks were a matter of course. But not all is bad and Glow is still among the best in its category. The image of "freshly cleaned linens left out in the sun to dry by a field of lavender" suddenly became very desirable, to the point that it escaped household products and suddenly became part of ourselves: This was a defining moment in the zeitgeist, the point where the detergent producing companies took over the world of scent by storm, shoving down the formulae and molecules of functioning products to the throats of lab-perfumers in fine fragrance making companies.
Men were not left behind in this quest of "shower fresh", competitiveness in the boardroom needed the assurance of grooming: Smell Carriere and the original Gendarme, both by Gendarme: they're clearly reminiscent of a wash with good old-fashioned soap on a rope. Men can also rever in the soapiness of Pour Homme by Paco Rabanne (where the lavender-coumarin fougere recipe is especially cooling) and Miller & Berteaux Spiritus/Land #2. Try Pure by Mark: a bar of soap in liquid form!

Philosophy with their Pure Grace and Amazing Grace continue on a popular theme, right where they left off with Baby Grace and its powdery vibe we explored in another article. Demeter have Pure Soap in the library of scents. Eau de Gantier by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier uses citrus and blackberry top notes to lift a bath-mitt-worthy bunch of musks. Infusion de Fleurs d'Oranger, a limited edition by Prada, is very sudsy, something lots of orange blossom scents do. Cologne by Mugler follows a more citrusy direction which also ends on white musks for a prolonged effect of latheriness. All are unisex and can be enjoyed year-long. Another one of their selling points, making them instant standbys.


Still there is the difference between bar soap and laundry detergent. Several modern fragrances with a concept, lifestyle approach behind them aim (or are restricted due to budget) for the latter: To wit, Lather, Shower Fresh, and Warm Cotton from the Clean line. Laundromat by Demeter. Egyptian Goddess by Auric Blends: pure fabric softener. Or Chanel Chance Eau Tendre: it happens to the best of them....And several screechy lily of the valley scents which do this inadvertedly. When it comes to soap, it's a slippery slope...

Which are your favourite "soapy fragrances"?

If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:






Pics via vintageadvertisingprints.co.uk, the soapopera.com, 8ate blog, hilarysheperd.com, oldorientmuseum.com, fairyfreckles.com

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Pitti Imagine Fragranze 8: Perfume Exhibition

From Friday to Sunday, 10-12 September 2010, Pitti Immagine presents the eighth edition of Fragranze at the Stazione Leopolda, Florence, the first fair-event in Italy dedicated to top level artistic perfumery created through research and sophisticated processes: essences, body-care and wellness products, cosmetic specialties and scented accessories.

In recent years, FRAGRANZE has become an observatory following the evolution of olfactory culture thanks to a full calendar of special projects, preview presentations, talk shows and press conferences -– organized by Pitti Immagine and the exhibitors. Last September FRAGRANZE presented over 160 brands and was attended by 1,700 buyers, a 35% increase compared to the previous edition, with double the number of foreign buyers attending from France, Germany, Russia, the United Kingdom and the United States. 114 journalists were registered representing a total of 72 publications from all over the world.

The theme for the new setting of FRAGRANZE, curated by Alessandro Moradei, will be the maieutic qualities of nature: colorful, spontaneous and geometric plants will harmoniously invade the Stazione Leopolda, creating an atmosphere that triggers warm, natural feelings, stimulating dialogue. Spring and Charms, the two most recent exhibition projects, will each have their own layout which will be coherent with and functional to their respective products.

Sissel Tolaas, the Norwegian scientist, artist and scent provocateur has been invited to attend this edition of Fragranze. From her Berlin laboratory where, to date, she has filed away up to 6730 odors – in a kind of olfactory diary/library - with her creations and artistic performances, Tolaas has launched a unique olfactory education project: training people to recognize, accept and define the odors of places, things, bodies and emotions. Sissel Tolaas will present part of her research at the Stazione Leopolda and will illustrate the reasons behind her extraordinary work and the methods she uses.

Watch the Pitti video on this link.
Information on booking and participants on www.pittimmagine.com

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Defining Powdery and Dry in Fragrances

"Perfume is subjective", I hear all the time. What's heavy to one is light to another, what is pleasantly sweet to certain individuals can be overly sweet. Probably because we haven't really agreed on which terms to apply so that we have a codified language to describe scents. True, we use "fragrance families" taxonomy to distinguish them (floral, woody, chypre, aldehydic, leather etc.) and sometimes we borrow from taste (sweet, bitter, savoury/salty, sour) but what happens with more esoteric terms, like "powdery" scents or "dry" ones?

Google search "powdery dry perfume" and you will see in the top five results the mention of Guerlain's Chamade. Now, Chamade isn't particularly "dry" nor is it particularly "powdery" except in the end. I mean, sure, one could detect these nuances to some degree, but my mind would gush forth hundreds of other suggestions for fragrances before mentioning Chamade. Unless we're thinking of the slang term "dry powder" for cash reserves for an unforeseen difficulty, in which case, yes, Chamade is a great asset in the war against industry mediocrity. But I digress.
So let's break down the terms, starting with "dry" since it's the more inclusive one.

"Dry" is a term that can denote two things in English: the opposite of sweet (as in wines) and the opposite of humid (Just like "light" can mean the opposite of both heavy and dark). In the latter sense, it's easier to grasp the context: Dry fragrances don't have dewy, watery, acqueous elements that recall crisp vegetation, any expanse of water or dew drops on petals. They can be mineral-like and they keep you dry as a result. Think of woody scents full of cedar, sandalwood, oak, rosewood, birch... Like the trunks of trees and their barks, they have a solid "appearence" to the nose. Think of smoke and some kinds of incense.

The opposite of non-sweet when refering to "dry" fragrances is a little more elaborate to explain. Think of a fine dry wine which has a minimal residual of sugars. Taste a fine white Reisling and compare with a full-bodied Sherry. And later on, within those categories, try to detect the degrees of dryness or sweetness between a Fino and an Oloroso Seco. Tannic notes give a taste of dryness which bites the tongue (in a non-spicy way).
Same goes for fragrances: In his couture shop at 7, rue Saint-Florentin, couturier Jean Patou had the brilliant idea of creating a cocktail bar where men could drink and small-talk while their women shopped for their dresses. In 1930, Patou decided that this could be converted into a veritable perfume bar and Henri Alméas, his perfumer, was instructed to create "cocktail" fragrances: The results were the original Cocktail, Cocktail Dry, Cocktail Sweet, and Cocktail Bitter Sweet. Clear enough?
It's not accidental that most masculine fragrances aim at "dry"; it denotes a certain butch element! Dry notes in fragrances are usually provided by woods or some grasses (for instance vetiver), by rhizomes (orris/iris), by phenols (tar-like essences such as birch tar, guiacwood, leathery compounds), by mosses (oakmoss, treemoss). There is no restriction as to which family they might belong to, though: Try the oriental Tiempe Passate by Antonia's Flower, the chypre Aromatics Elixir by Clinique, the woody floral Ivoire by Balmain, Chanel's green floral No.19, the aldehydic Pure White Linen by Lauder, the mineral cologne Eau de Gentiane Blanche: They're all non sweet, non humid, they will keep you dry on a warm summer's day.

And powdery, you ask? What does it signify when talking about fine fragrance? "Powdery" can be a subcategory of "dry", as powder by its very nature abhors moisture. Yet powdery can take sweeter nuances or drier ones, according to manipulation by a talented perfumer. It also hints at a feminine rather than a traditionally masculine smell, evoking as it does a million "cute" acoutrements: feather boas, white kitten fur, cosmetic enhancements and 18th century peruques, pastry making involving flour, and fluffy angora sweaters in pastel colours. Usually the categorisation is between "face powder" or "talcum powder" (also described as "baby-powder"). Face powder notes are more refined in feel and overall less sweet with a vintage, "perfume-y" trail, while talcum powder is simpler, usually involving a comforting, vanillic backdrop that recalls the famous lemon--lavender-vanilla accord of Johnson's Baby Powder. The no doubt amusing dichotomy of powder evoking both grandmothers (through the association with the scents they carried on from their youth) and babies is probably fodder for a psychology thesis on how smell perception is the most perverse within the human brain function. For the scope of our column, let's give some examples to clarify our point.
Face-powder-smelling fragrances include Hermès 24 Faubourg, Ombre Rose by Jean-Charles Brosseau, No.19 by Chanel, Patou's discontinued Normandie, Creed Fleurs de Bulgarie, Jolie Madame by Balmain, Coriandre by Jean Couturier and Ma Griffe by Carven. Talcum or baby-powdery fragrances have an artistically acclaimed representative in Petits et Mamans by Bulgari, a cuddly powdery scent which truly charms. Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan and Flower by Kenzo are the rather grown-up version, aromatized with a little jasmine for the former and a clearly detectable synth violet for the latter. Try Teint de Neige by Lorenzo Villoressi: choke-full of powder! Surely a firm favourite of power loving folks!
US brand Philosophy was fully cognisant, when they composed Baby Grace, that Americans have fond memories of having their baby bottoms talcumed with Johnson's. And there's of course Baby Powder by Demeter for nostalgisers on a budget; or those who want it clearly spelled on the label...

We had talked about ambery fragrances which often evoke a powdery effect the other day, some of the ingredients involved into giving such an ambience being amber mixtures, opoponax gum (such as in the case of Shalimar), heliotropin, vanilla and several musks (try Habanita by Molinard, Must de Cartier in pure parfum, Kenzo Amour or Obsession by Calvin Klein to see this. And see how white musks can be powdery soft in Clair de Musc by Lutens).
But powderiness can be also rendered through orris/iris (Iris Poudre even says so in the name), certain aldehydes (read more on which on this article), Iso-E Super when combined with certain musks and most importantly mosses (like in Aromatics Elixir, Ma Griffe, Chanel No.19, Knowing by Lauder, Coriandre, and Piguet's Bandit).

Moss contributing to the effect is an interesting case of chance discovery. I was puzzling myself for years trying to figure out why moss reminds me of my mother and of face powder. I am not alone, lots of women associate it specifically with vintage poudre de riz face-powders imagining them being slowly, decadently, glamorously fluffed on with ostrich-feather puffs by film noir heroines before they go out to wreck havoc on some poor men's lives. Powders from Cyprus I knew were based on the famous "recipe" of chypre perfumes. Until one day strolling the Max Factor counter I stopped to read the actual ingedients on a couple of compacts, one of them being Creme Puff which both my mother and grandmother used with a wide brush for setting their makeup. Yup, prominently displayed was Evernia prunastri, otherwise known as...oakmoss!

Which are your favourite dry &/or powdery fragrances? 

If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:


Still from the film Marie Antoinette by Sofia Coppola, featuring Kirsten Dunst via Hansen Love blog; Jean Patou Cocktail Dry and L.T.Piver powder ads via hprints.

Monday, July 26, 2010

L'Air du Temps is Rocking: New Design by Phillipe Starck


Celebrated French designer Philippe Starck has given L’Air du Temps, the classic Nina Ricci fragrance which the 61-year-old admits to wearing himself, a new look.
The design is unusual, very sleekened and gadgetry-like, yet not linear. The famous doves that denoted world peace after the end of WWII when the perfume was introduced take a new tougher, silhouetted line that is "rock n'roll". One could argue that the new design is distanced from everything which historically and emotionally we have come to associate with L'Air du Temps: The open wings of the doves in flight are stylised yet they're still kissing (see their beaks unite at the very very top), but one could almost see a cattle skull in profile, a boomerang or a shark's fin at one side's point.
According to Osmoz, the limited-edition item has two goals: "offering collectors an exceptional bottle, and proving that more than 60 years after its launch, the fragrance is still modern and… totally in “l’air du temps” (i.e. the zeitgeist, or the spirit of the times)".
L’Air du Temps by Starck, 1.5 oz/45ml.: 69 euros. Available from mid-October.

Then again, like a proper classic, L'Air du Temps, the flagship of Nina Ricci, at least optically has always been on the vanguard, offering myriads of permutations to reflect the times: Watch some of them on this previous Perfume Shrine article.

photo via buybuy

Frequent Questions: Amber or Ambergris?

Perfume companies and their ad copy often end up confusing the consumer. Whether they do it inadvertedly or on purpose is to be examined. The point is several people raise questions: "Is amber and ambergris (i.e. grey amber) the same thing?" "Why is amber so sweet?" "Why do some ambers smell sweet while some smell savoury or even salty?" "Is it just me?" Let's disentangle the confusion.

Amber and ambergris are two completely different things, at least in theory as several companies tend to mix the terms to great confusion.

Amber usually refers to a resinous mix, a medley of base notes (usually a specific mix of only three amply suffices, read our extensive article on the differences) with a sweet, almost powdery tone (smell Histoires de Parfums Ambre 114 for instance) and an oriental theme due to the very nature of the resins used which hail from the East. Hence the ~usually in French~ terminology/classification of orientalised perfumes as "parfums ambrés". For instance CK Obsession, Shalimar by Guerlain or Moschino by Moschino (the original) are examples of perfumes "ambrés"; they're warm, inviting, a little powdery, soft, cuddly, mysterious...

The concept of "amber" is in fact an olfactory convention of the late 19th century and became a perfume "genre" at that time with the invention of vanillin (synthetic vanilla, as known from patisserie to most of us) added to the time-honored use of labdanum.

It's interesting to note that the most common raw materials for creating an amber accord for most perfumers are labdanum (resinous substance from Cistus Ladaniferus or "rock rose", possessing a leathery, deep, pungently bitterish smell), benzoin (a balsam from Styrax Tonkiniensis with a sweetish, caramel and vanillic facet) and styrax (resin of Liquidambar Orientalis tree with a scent reminiscent of glue and cinnamon) with the inclusion of vanillin.
Since vanilla naturally compliments the sweeter facets of benzoin and since it's both considered a universal pleaser (especially so in the huge US market) and a semi-aphrodisiac (according to some perfumers' beliefs, notably Guerlain) it's used to boost the effect rendering most ambers quite sweet. Four notable examples of non sweet ambers, to escape that surypy effect, while still remaining "parfums ambrés", are Ambre Sultan by Lutens (the golden standard, mixing a pungently herbal top note including bay leaf and oregano), Ambra del Nepal by I Profumi di Firenze (using naturally cool and citrusy frankincense to put the sostenuto on amber), Ambre Fétiche by Goutal (drier than most thanks to Russian leather base) and Ambre Précieux by Maitre Parfumer et Gantier (beautifully balanced with aromatic top).

Ambergris on the other hand refers to the intenstines product of the sperm whale. Ambergris (also called "grey amber" and ambregris in French) is a substance that the wild sperm whale (Physeter macrocephalus Lin=P.catodon) regurgitates naturally, a sort of cetacean furball to cleanse its digestive track of remnants of indigested cuttlefish (quid beaks mainly). "Only, if you thought it was got rid of through the mouth, think again: it comes out the other end...[Kemp Chris., Floating Gold: A Natural (and Unnatural) History of Ambergris]

"It’s hard not to fall in love with ambergris. Here is a solid lump of whale feces, weathered down—oxidized by salt water, degraded by sunlight, and eroded by waves — from the tarry mass to something that smells, depending on the piece and whom you’re talking to, like musk, violets, fresh-hewn wood, tobacco, dirt, Brazil nut, fern-copse, damp woods, new-mown hay, seaweed in the sun, the wood of old churches, or pretty much any other sweet-but-earthy scent". [Kemp Chris., Floating Gold: A Natural (and Unnatural) History of Ambergris]
 
The ingredient is rather sticky and gelatinous like, like a fat lump of grey color at first; while when it dries it becomes harder like a fragile but hard resin. When it is fresh, ambergris has nearly no value because its smell is extremely fecal (like "scented cow dung") and it has no value for perfumery. But let it float on the ocean for some years and it gains a beautiful patina that famously chemist Gunther Ohloff described as “humid, earthy, fecal, marine, algoid, tobacco-like, sandalwood-like, sweet, animal, musky and radiant”. Other people have dscribed it as having the scent of  wood in old churches or Brazil nuts.




To Christopher Ash in Whaler's Eye (George Allen & Unwin Lts.1964, p.254): "It always reminds me of a cool English wood in spring, and the scent you smell when you tear up the moss to uncover the dark soil underneath".

"Nor indeed can the whale possibly be otherwise than fragrant, when, as a general thing, he enjoys such high health; taking abundance of exercise; always out of doors; though, it is true, seldom in the open air. I say, that the motion of a Sperm Whale's flukes above water dispenses a perfume, as when a musk-scented lady rustles her dress in a warm parlor. What then shall I liken the Sperm Whale to for fragrance, considering his magnitude? Must it not be to that famous elephant, with jewelled tusks, and redolent with myrrh, which was led out of an Indian town to do honour to Alexander the Great?" (H.Melville, Moby Dick, ch.20)

The process of production is usually non harmful to the animal; not exactly "whale vomit" as purpetuated, more of the equivalent of a furball which floats on the ocean for years.

If we are talking about ethically harvested ambergris as opposed to ambergris from slaughtered whales ( that goes through a man-made maturing process) it is tremendously rare. It was one of the most prized findings of sailors (There is a mention of it in the seafaring adventure film “Master and Commander: far side of the world” when sailors contemplate capturing a whaler merchant ship.)

Its greatest attribute is its capacity for rendering a composition rounder, especially in oriental perfumes or in floral compositions where it melds the notes into one and brings out their best qualities. It clings on to fabric too, through repeated washings even, becoming ever sweeter with time. Therefore it is prized for its fixative power: the ability to anchor more volatile notes and make them last.
Most commercial perfumes today use a synthetic substitute, because the real thing is so expensive. 
Dior Dioressence used to use real ambergris back in the day. Eau de Merveilles by Hermes is suppossedly one of the few that contain some raw ambergris (debatable) , which is usually used in tincture form in perfumery due to its sheer potency. Creed is also insisting that they use real ambergris in their perfumes. Natural perfumers use beach harvested ambergris in some of their more exclusive or bespoke fragrances.


Natural ambergris doesn't smell sweet at all to me; in fact it's salty, almost dry, a little oily. A very different variant on sensual which I personally lean to with a passion. Smell Isabelle Doyen's L'Antimatière by Les Nez to get a feel of what natural ambergris smells like: it's choke-full.
[For a much more elaborate breakdown of the raw materials and perfume terms "amber" and "ambergris" as well as the synthetics used to replicate an amber note in perfumery you can read more on this link. ]

To revert to the confusion instigated by perfume companies, let's illustrate with some examples.
Some perfumes do use the term "amber" in their puramid notes to stand for "ambergris", Eau de Merveilles by perfumers Ralf Schwieger and Nathalie Feisthauer being a case in point in some online lists of notes. The fragrance smells saline, salty, almost briny, discreet, definitely not sweet. Prada's L'Eau Ambrée is another example along those lines: I had described the drydown as smelling of ambergris, of salty skin. Clearly not an "ambré" perfume in the sense described above!

Balmain's Ambre Gris on the other hand does exactly the opposite: The whole ad copy is a marketing ploy based on the "myth" of ambergris:
« L’ambre gris, proche du mythe, un ingrédient rare et précieux à l’odeur somptueuse. » (While in fact the natural is very rarely used nowadays and only in very select, very expensive cases).
The scent itself is based on amber synthetics and is indeed sweet (typical cinnamon-vanilla accord). But the name and corresponding colour co-ordinated packaging work on the premise of "grey amber" and the elusive "pearl" of the sea: The cap is shaped like a huge South Sea pearl, its surface scattered with dots that look like Sevruga caviar "boules" from afar (thus further evoking luxury and the ocean), the colour scheme is greyish, mysterious, non bronzed oriental.

Perfumery is an intricate language that traps the mind into perceptions that trick the nose...

Resin drop trapping an insect inside via wikimedia commons, photograph of Ambre Gris by Balmain bottle via Stress & the Country

The Victorian Pharmacy

Alec Lawless, founder and perfumer at Essentially Me Artisan Perfumery, is to appear in the fourth episode of a BBC2 TV series "The Victorian Pharmacy" scheduled on Thursday 5th August at 9pm. On the progamme he works with the three presenters to create a new fragrance using traditional ingredients. The perfume will also be available to buy exclusively from Essentially Me from the same date.

Here's what Alec had to say about the experience:
"For the TV documentary I looked at late Victorian recipes for three perfumes and decided to use many of those ingredients with the addition of some oils from India. As I was going to call the fragrance Empress of India I decided it should contain the finest quality aromatics in fitting tribute to the traditions of perfumery in a bygone age.I chose classic Orientals for the base: sandalwood, vetivert Bourbon, frankincense, vanilla, opoponax and patchouli. For the heart: tuberose, jasmines Sambac and grandiflorum, rose Maroc and orange blossom absolute. Citrus top notes of neroli, bergamot and mandarin were complimented by rose Otto, orris root and coriander.As for the purposes of the television I had three apprentices, I got each to experiment with one of the accords before assessing them as a group and blending them in just proportion to produce the finished fragrance. It was quite engaging and even the guys on sound and camera came to check it when it was finished."
More details from the BBC website can be accessed here. And also on BBC iPlayer.
The corresponding perfume, "Empress of India", will be available exclusively from Essentially Me from 4th August in a 56ml bottle, either as an Eau de Parfum (£65) or Eau de Toilette (£45). There will also be a special edition sample size bottle of Eau de Parfum.

The winners of the draw....

....for the full bottles of the new Tauer scent are La Bonne Vivante and Bloody Frida. Congratulations and please mail me with a shipping address, using the email on the Profile page, so these can be sent your way soon.
Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one!

I have just returned from a little trip which promises a lot of surprises for you...shortly, very shortly my darlings!

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