The latest project of Jean Claude Ellena's, head perfumer at Hermes and acclaimed top nose in the business at least in the last decade, isn't just another fragrance for a luxe brand, based on innovative concept and rare ingredients... On the contrary, it borrows from years back as well as from the present and future and consists of a new penned book on his course as a perfumer. The book is going to be titled Journal d’un Parfumeur (editions Sabine Wespiese Editeur, Paris) and will contain Jean Claude's reflections on his art from, landmarks in his course and the smaller ~and bigger~ secrets of his craft. The new book will be available in French from April 2011.
NB. This is a totally NEW book. It's not the one which was on pre-order on Amazon last year (Perfume, The Alchemy of Scent). That one was in English (i.e. transcription of his 2007 French one Le Parfum)
Le Labo are organising perfume seminars/workshops for fumeheads in London, so if you're close (or visitng), this is your chance to participate in a one-of-a-kind experience under Nicola Pozzani.
As part of Le Labo’s mission to increase customer’s knowledge on perfume, synesthetic provocateur Nicola Pozzani will introduce you to a one-of-a-kind series of creative workshops. This is a unique workshop experience currently offered only in Le Labo London. Le Labo Synesthetic Series is a series of 5 syneshetic workshops about perfume, which will take place once a month, on Sunday afternoons at Le Labo Devonshire Road’s boutique in London. Students will experience perfume by using the 5 senses with a synesthetic approach, which means they will explore the connections between the sense of smell (the one directly related to scent) and the other senses (vision, touch, sound and taste). Students will then develop their perfume knowledge through their sensory perception and their creativity. Le Labo Synesthetic workshops will be 100% interactive. Working in small groups, Students will learn about Le Labo fragrances and the finest perfume ingredients they are made of. Students will then engage in practical sensory exercises and by doing so will become actively involved in experiencing the connections between perfume and other sensations. This synesthetic experience will help them expand their knowledge of scent. Furthermore, by exploring the sensations perfume can transmit, students will have the chance to experience perfume as an art form, as a creative language and become aware of the creative scenarios that lay behind fragrance creation. They will eventually become more sensitive to scent and gain a newly discovered perception of perfume. Nicola Pozzani is a perfume professional and Cambridge CELTA qualified English teacher who has combined his passion for perfume and teaching experience to create these workshops. He studied sensory languages and synesthetics at Università dell’Immagine in Milan, where he studied Perfume Science with Jean Claude Ellena. He has worked on sensory and research projects for a variety of beauty and perfume companies. He lives and works in London.
Le Labo Synesthetic Series scheduleWhen : Every last Sunday of the month from January to May 2011 Time : 4 pm to 6 pm Where : Le Labo London – 28A Devonshire Street, London W1G 6PS Price : 45 Pounds Number of places : maximum 6 per session RSVP : lelabolondon@lelabofragrances or +44 20 3441 1535
You all know the pain...Your otherwise beautiful opaque perfume bottle, often in inky shades of black or purple which spell danger or just in a material inpenetrable by the light (such as opaline, Cloisonné metal or china or reverse painted from inside glass, such as in Chinese snuff bottles), is refusing to let you gauge how much of the beautiful fragrance you so enjoy is left in it.
Or it could be any perfume receptable which is intended for you to fill with the scent of your choice, such as ones made by Renaud, Lalique, and other reputable firms. The matter is always the same: how to see when is the time to replenish your perfume? Or just how much fragrance is there in your bottle you intend to sell as filled or to swap? No, tapping to see where the bottle is hollow pr not won't help much. Here are some easy tips to help you.
Method 1: Let the light shine bright!
By now, you probably know that light is the archenemy of perfume and you store yours away from it in a dark cupboard. Good, except for one occasion: When you want to see just how much juice is left in your beautiful bottle. Make an exception and bring out your flacon in the sun on a bright day. 1. Hold the bottle high against the rays of the sun. Even the most resistant bottles provide some clue as to the "line" where the full ends and the empty space begins. 2. If you're short of a handy window sill and the bright sun of the Med, repeat the experiment with a very bright lightbulb (60W or above). Hold the bottle carefully against it. Chances are you will be able to discern adequately.
Method 2: Sinking, sinking...
If the light method above fails, water might come to the rescue. How, you ask? Simple. According to basic physics, immersing any object in water will produce a substitution of the volume of water with the volume of the object (The principle by which throwing a whale in a swimming pool will more than sprinkle spectators three rows of seats away). How do we put this into practice with perfume bottles? First of all, don't try this with anything vintage with a paper label: it will be soaked by the water and the paper will crack when drying. But for modern bottles or bottles that can withstand this, it's unbeatable.
1. Take a receptable that can hold your bottle in question. Preferably use one that is big enough to hold it, but is also shaped in a way that the bottle cannot capsize (i.e. it follows the contours, usually that means an oblong vase or a jug or something along those lines.) 2. Fill it with water. 3. Now slowly immerse your bottle in it and slowly let it go. The power of hydraulics will have your bottle float to the line where it's still full. 4. Mark that line with a small adhesive label which you have at the ready or an indelible felt pen. 5. Get your bottle out of the water, let it stand and see where your marking points: 50% full, 2/3 full or less? You should have a pretty good idea.
These are more or less more accurate methods than just judging by weight, both because one can be fooled by the weight of the flacon itself (especially if it came into your hands in a non full state to begin with) or by the appreciation of liquid itself (the swooshing sound indicates there is liquid inside but it rarely gives a clue as to how much).
Annick Goutal’s ‘Le Mimosa’ is the newest entry in the world of the esteemed brand's soliflores line, which included Le Jasmin, La Violette, Des Lys, La Muguet, Neroli, Rose Absolue and Le Chèvrefeuille (Soliflores are fragrances based around the scent of a single flower; technically mixed with other essences, but aiming to highlight the blossom's character).
Mimosa stands as the first mocking of spring into the face of winter, as the branches start to yellow as early as February. In Grasse and the Riviera, the Mimosa Trail is a supremely memorable drive, scattered with local festivals and picturesque events. The many perfumery's takes on mimosa include such classics as the warmly honeyed Mimosaique by Patricia de Nicolai, the milky-kittenish Mimosa pour Moi by L'Artisan Parfumeur, the intensely euphoric Farnesiana by Caron, as well as the reissued Hermès Calèche Fleurs de Méditerranéewith its unusual violet leaf or the extreme of the laundred clean musks of Czech & Speake's Mimosa. The yellow pom-pom blossom isn't a stranger in the Annick Goutal line, as Eau de Charlotte puts it to good effect against a constrast of cocoa and blackcurrant jam. Goutal's new LeMimosa nevertheless will include greener, sweet notes of mimosa flanked by the soft fruity satin of peach, the milky warmth of sandalwood and the powdered notes of iris. Le Mimosa comes in the house’s emblematic fluted “gadroon” bottle, this time adorned with a bow of black polka dots on a yellow ribbon. The fragrance will make its debut in the market in March 2011.
Susannah York embodied the sizzling sensuality and sharp wit of the 1960s respendid with uninhibited talent in a pleiad of intelligent films ranging from Tom Jonesto A Man for All Seasons all the way up to... A Dark Blue Perfume in the Ruth Rendell Mysteries series and of course The Maids, Christopher Miles's infamous play adaptation of Jean Genet's Les Bonnes. (Interesting perfume scene and bonus points if you identify any of the bottles on the vanity in the clip below) May she rest in peace, we will always remember her fondly!
Wheelbarrow, lay off the whip and don't rush the horses, you don't need to hurry when you've got your love so close by. When he smiles, the world smiles at me, so let the wheel run where it might, and wherever it goes, it's fine by me. ~from the song "Wheelbarrow" by Manos Hadjidakis from the 1963 Greek film Χτυποκάρδια στα θρανία/ (hence the top clip)
Any mention of Bosphorus, the strait between East and West, uniting and at the same time dividing Constantinople (Istanbul), which lays on both its banks, never fails to ignite a very palpable nostalgia laced with a smattering of pain for any Greek. We're automatically thinking of the failing grandeur of the Paleologi dynasty and lamenting for the times when Greeks and Turks co-existed in peace for centuries in this most cosmopolitan of Eastern cities. Traversée du Bosphore(Crossing the Bosphorus) by L'Artisan Parfumeur, like its namesake strait, was the straw that broke the ~proverbial~ camel's back, as anything referencing the city of Constantine will make me reminiscence yet again of my forebearers and the sweet camaraderie they had to abandond due to political turmoil. But The City, Istanbul, is in reality neither Greek, nor Turkish. It's neither christian nor muslim. It's a cultural border, a place where everything meets and unites, a cauldron of cultures and men; the place which millions of different people, of different nationalities and religions, loved madly through the centuries. A city so beautiful that there was no other way to call it than The City, η Πόλη!
Traversée du Bosphore comes now from Bertrand Duchaufour and L'Artisan Parfumeur as the symbolic strait between modern French perfumery and its oriental heritage. The unisex fragrance was fittingly inspired by a journey to Istanbul, when at the crack of dawn the cobblestone streets still retain their sleepy languor, like heavy-boned odalisques stealing gazes through the lacework wooden panel of the musharabieh, and when the many fishermen set out to catch their day's worth, packing nets, salty sardines and pita bread. You can easily lose yourself promenading unhurriedly through the small alleys towards the seraglio and Kahrié djami with its blue-peacock mosaics, gazing at the narthex's domes for hours or the many fountains where pilgrims ritualistically wash their head and hands before proceeding. It's a slow world, filled with beautiful wistfulness.
The strange thing about Traversée du Bosphore, part of the Travel series in the niche brand's subplot, is how a -by now- cliché concept (i.e.eastern exoticism) that should be a foregone conclusion (loukhoum, tanneries, saffron, milky salep drink, tobacco in hookahs, opulent roses, strange white flowers......hasn't Lutens exhausted that genre?) smells interesting and contemporary; nothing like a heavy odalisque looking through the parapets or Alladin rolled into plies and plies of plush carpets. Instead it's a gouache of a scent: a transparent suede floriental with soft musky notes, a marriage of rosewater and suede.
Indeed, the list of official notes for Traversée du Bosphore reads like a shopping list of things to find in a Turkish souk or at the very least smells encountered around a Turkish souk. The apple-laced çay (tea) is very popular and no one makes it more delicious than Piyer Loti Kahvesi at Eyup (the European side of the city), a stone's throw away from Sultan Ahmet Mosque and the Byzantine apotheosis that is the temple of Aghia Sophia. Loti is the writer of Aziyadé (see the perfume inspired by it) and knew a thing or two about sensual abandon...Tobacco is still smoked in hookahs; not only by old men in derelict coffee-shops, heavy in political talk, but from younger ones as well, when they finally sit down to have an aimless break. Men and women alike buy fresh phyllo pastry, almonds and pistachios to make baklava, and Turkish delight by the pound to bring back at home. The market is filled with golden and red heaps of spices, precious saffron and dried Turkish roses for using as pot-pourri. Tanneries do work merrily (Turkish leathers have competitive prices), although the effluvium isn't anything one would associate with perfume.
But the summation of the notes or the panoramic vol plané shot does not really tell the whole tale: Duchaufour was no stranger to Byzantine formulae, including everything but the kitchen sink before, and the results are diverse: from the baroque patina gold of Jubilation XXV for Amouage to the carnal tryst of Amaranthinefor Penhaligon's, all the way to the deceptively diaphanous muddy-incense of Timbuktu for L'Artisan. His compositions include many pathways that lead to a gauze of orientalia. For Traversée du Bosphore Duchaufour eschewed clichés to come up with a composition that marries on the one hand Anatolian leather (you will only smell grey suede, really, not harsh quinolines; it's comparable to the note in Sonia Rykiel Woman-Not for Men! and Barbara Bui Le Parfum) and on the other hand Turkish Delight (loukhoum), into a unique interpretation of the leather genre; velvety and whispery soft, opening upside down: After the brief apple çay top (blink and you'll miss it!), you sense the suede and only later the powdery loukhoum accord. The strangely greyish powderiness of iris dusts the notes like white copra dust enrobes the small rose-laced loukhoum cubes, while saffron with its leathery bitterish facets reinforces the impression and balances the sweeter notes, much like it kept vanilla in check in Saffran Troublant. The iris-leather accord in Traversée du Bosphore weaves a whispery path together with a hint of almond giving a light gourmand nod. The whole smells like rosewater sweets wrapped in a suede pouch, never surupy and very skin-scent like (incorporating that Havana Vanille base), although a tad more flowery feminine than most men would feel comfortable with. It's a fragrance which smells nice and simple like a nostalgic song from an old movie which dies down to a murmur, and might demand your attention to catch the smaller nuances.
As for me I know well that the past is inextricably tied to the future, and revel in thinking of Istanbul as the pathway where cultures and people will eternally meet...and part.
For our readers a draw: one sample to a lucky commenter. Draw is now closed, thank you! Tell us where you would envision the next travel series by L'Artisan should take us.
L’Artisan Parfumeur Traversée du Bosphore is available in 50 ($115) and 100 ml ($155) of Eau de Parfum wherever L'Artisan is sold (voutiques, Perfume Shoppe, Luckyscent, Aedes, First in Fragrance etc).
The bottom music clip and the film stills come from the Greek 2003 film Πολίτικη Κουζίνα/A Touch of Spice by Tasos Boulmetis, starring George Corraface and exploring the culinary philosophy that maps the course of modern Istanbul and the fateful, doomed romance between a Greek boy and a Turkish girl before the deportation of Greeks in 1964. It's uploaded in its entirety with English subtitles on Youtube: the first part is on this link and you can take it from there. Happy watching!
Diptyque and Kuntzel & Deygas continue their collaboration after the Belle & Bête duo of candles with a new duet in specially designed labels. Two perfumes unite their voices in one delightful song, creating new accords: Rose & Eros.
Rose : Rose Piaget marries to the essence Basil Grand Vert Egypte, with cassis, violet and soft and sensuous musks. Eros : Rose Rugosa is coupled with essences of myrrhe, benjoin from Laos, Péru balsam, cedar and sandalwood. Limited edition collector's item. 140gr for 60 euros.
There is also a limited edition of the famous Roses candle in mini and rose-tinted glass, soon to be a collector's item.
Isn't this a pretty sight? Prada issues the latest annual limited edition in the ephemeral Infusion series (see Infusion de Tuberose and Infusion de Vetiver from last season, as well as Infusion de Fleurs d'Oranger from two years ago) in Infusion de Rose. The notes for Prada Infusion de Rose include Turkish and Bulgarian rose, Italian mandarin, peppery mint, Brazilian maté, and honeycomb from Laos. The fragrances is purported to be "like fresh rose petals mingling with Tea Roses and Honey, crushed in a hand with mint leaves" according to the official blurb. The beautiful bottle is ornamented with delicate designs by James Jean, titled "Trembled Blossom." Canadian release on April 15th in SDM Beauty Boutiques and Murale. Comparable times for US and Europe.
Floris, after Madonna of the Almonds, proposes a new fragrance, based on a romantic concept: Amaryllis. The name, common for girls in both Greek and Latin-derived languages, comes from the Greek word ἀμαρύσσω which means "to shine, to sparkle" and is referenced in Theophrastus' Idylls tied to a beautiful shepherdess and later in Virgil's pastoral 1st Eclogue/Bucolic, as a singing wanderer of the woods. The fragrance itself, a spicy ambery floral, is inspired according to Floris by the romantically rural theme and focuses on the botanic connotation, which is beladonna lily (which interestingly enough means "beautiful lady" in Italian). But the devolution of the botanical name of the flower into "pink ladies" and "naked ladies" has surely something to do with the pastoral themes of youths teaching the forest to resound the name Amaryllis ("Sit careless in the shade, and, at your call, 'Fair Amaryllis' bid the woods resound") and of rolling merrily on the grass...
And how should the upcoming Floris Amaryllis smell like?
Notes for Amaryllis by Floris Top notes: Bergamot, carnation, marine accord Heart notes: frankincense, amaryllis, myrh, tuberose, ylang ylang Base notes: Caramel, heliotrope, patchouli, musk, tonka bean, vanilla
One of my favourite readers, Minette of Scent Signals, sent me the following link which guides us down to the London...sewers! The Guardian video follows Rob Smith, head flusher at Thames Water, who explains how 'fat bergs' (amalgamations of illegally dumped cooking oil and wet wipes) are the culprits for frequent blockage and even flooding. But some more pleasant emanations are still possible, as he attests!
Not a pleasant subject on the whole you might say, even though those sewers have inspired writers Robotham, Gaiman and Updale (Lost, Neverwhereand Montmorencyseries respectively) as well as video games, with their dark and sinister atmosphere. But the interesting thing is that the London sewer system goes back to the Victorian Age. In the 1850s over 400000 tonnes of sewage were flushed into the River Thames each day, thus rendering the river biologically dead. The ...stinky culmination came in the summer of 1858, during which the smell of untreated human waste was extraordinarily potent in central London, forever giving the time frame the nickname "the Great Stink" and reinforcing the theory of "miasmatic air" as a cause for cholera to last well until at least the 1880s, when Koch re-discovered the bacterium responsible for the disease. (The predominance of the theory of the air carrying miasmata through odours is well documented in Alain Corbin's book The Fragrant and the Foul). Soon Joseph Bazalgette was commissioned chief engineer to oversee the construction of the new London sewage system in 1859.
The London sewers are stratographed in regions of class demarcations, nevertheless; certainly a distinction obvious in British society in general in the past, less so now, except for the respective...effluvium, so to speak. The fearless in the eye of dirt Rob Smith describes the emanations that bypass methane for a more pleasant odour as those coming from the "affluent effluent" ~the stuck remnants of perfumed body oils and bath washes which are used by the richer folks; certain areas smell of expensive oils that carry their aromatic heritage down the drain... The London sewage system holds a special fascination apparently, a mix of the Gothic tradition with the metamodern V for Vendetta flair for underground scheming: With such names of "hot spots" as Devil's Gate, Itself, Labyrinth, and Rubix, is it any wonder perfume managed to sneak in there too?
Next post will be a review & lucky draw for a new niche perfume. Stay tuned! sketch of Faraday and Father Thames via wikimedia commons
In an article in the New York Times, penned by Catherine Saint Louis, we learn which fragrances made it and which tanked last year, according to the NPD Group market research team. Oddly enough the text reads like a nicely placed endorsement instead of a critical commentary one would expect on the results, but of course the scope of the article never was to criticize, merely to report. Additionally, it's mentioned that "Final annual tallies from NPD won’t be available until later this month". So why the rush dear?
The most important feature is this quote however:
"Ms. Grant dared to hope for “at least a flat year,” which would be an improvement, she said, considering that “fragrance has pretty much been in decline, except for a few years with celebrity fragrances” since 2001."
So which were the big sellers? In the mainstream circuit, they were:
Gucci Guilty
Chanel Chance Eau Tendre
Bleu de Chanel (apparently the biggest men's premiere in Bloomingdale's ever)
Ralph Lauren Big Pony collection
May I say yawn, at this point...
The celebrity fragrances were many (as usual, especially in view of the above quote) but apparently they didn't do that well, Beyonce's Heat mentioned in those. It's a bit contradictory to what was circulated at the moment of launch, when Heat was quoted as being a "fly off the shelves" item that was unprecedented. Hmmm.....
The other interesting thing that begs for commentary is Jennifer Aniston's celebrity perfume, initially hailed as Lola Vie (LOL@vie, if you're slow on the up-taking) and then changed into simply Aniston . Everyone is reporting that it didn't sell well, it flopped etc. Now, where's the catch? It's definitely not a reflection on Jennifer's popularity which remains as strong as ever. It's simple really: Aniston, the fragrance, was launched as an exclusive at Harrod's in the UK who didn't ship outside the country, thus effectively cutting off the core audience of Jennifer (America) from access to the product that would first and foremost appeal to them! The rationale behind such a distribution move remains to be seen, as Aniston did make it all the way to London to appear to the launch, hugging the bottle in rapture, apparently oblivious to what would ensue.
Best-selling fragrances in the niche sector (according to Barney's and Aedes)?
Byredo M/Ink
Bois 1920 Classic
Santa Maria Novella Melograno
Gendarme original cologne
Aedes de Venustas by L'Artisan
F.Malle Portrait of a Lady
Somehow, I don't think the rather iconoclastic minerals & musks M/Ink or the intricately complex Aedes de Venustas fragrance can be viewed in the same light as Gendarme, or Portrait of a Lady, which cater to more traditional tastes. But this is what has been reported all the same. Melograno is such an old niche mainstay that I can't but think these are repeat buyers.
As to trands to look out for in fragrance for 2011? The continuation of oud in the mainstream, more flankers coming up (one for Marc Jacob's Daisy for sure), the resurgence of powder (according to Karen Dubin of Sniffapalooza and her love of...Love, Chloé) and the return of ThreeASFOUR by Colette (a concept perfume).
Originally thought out by perfumer Jean-Louis Sieuzac* (of Opium fame), is it any wonder Dior's Dune smells more like the warmed up sand where lush Venus-like bodies have lain in sweet surrender rather than the athletic Artemis/Diana figures which aquatic/oceanic ("sports") fragrances ~the classification in which the house puts it~ would suggest? The French have been known to prefer Venus over Diana in their artistic depictions over the centuries anyway. It's perhaps unjust and a sign of the celebrity-obsessed times that this Aphrodite of a scent is recurring into the scene because word has leaked out recently that Kate Middleton wore it as a signature scent when she was a student.
But at least it might give newcomers into the cult of perfume a chance to experience one of the lesser known Dior fragrances: Curiously enough, for something that has stayed in the market for 19 years and belongs to the LVMH portfolio, Dune, apart from a men's version Dune for Men of course with its tonka beat backdrop, has no flankers...
*[Although Jean-Louis Sieuzac proposed the formula, his submission was rejected by the Christian Dior perfumes head of development at the time. It took a modification by perfumer Nejla Bsiri Barbir (working at Parfumania) which sealed the deal and got Dune on the shelves in the end...]
Dior's Dune is a case study not only in the house's illustrious stable (scroll our Dior Series), but in the perfume pantheon in general: The zeitgeist by 1991, when the fragrance was issued, demanded a break with the shoulder-pads and moussed-up hair of the 1980s which invaded personal space alongside bombastic scents announcing its wearer from the elevator across the hall...or -in some memorable cases- across the adjoining building three weeks after the wearer had passed through its halls! The advent of ozonic-marines was on as a form of air freshening (and a subliminal chastity belt to attack towards the AIDS advent) and L'Eau d'Issey, interestingly issued exactly one year after Dune, was paving the path that New West by Aramis had started a few years ago. Where the Japanese aesthetic for restraint put forth mental images of limpid water lillies by the drop of water on a sparse zen bottle of brushed aluminum & frosted glass, the French were continuing their seductive scenery: the model was all prostrate on a sandy beach, the colour of antique pink silk underwear hinting at fleshy contours, eyes closed, giagantic eyelashes batting slowly, reminiscent of broom stems, a world capsized into a sphere of tranquility... Interestingly it's also routinely fronted by blonde beauties, suggesting there is an oriental for them apart from the flamenco-strewn dark-haired territory other classic fragrances have mapped out so well. Lately advertising images for Dune sadly capitulated into the slicked, oiled-up bodies that infest other Dior fragrance advertisments, but I prefer to keep the original ones in my mind.
Perfume taxonomist Michael Edwards recounts how the heads at Christian Dior wanted to create a "marine type" of fragrance but without the harsh ozonic notes that were catapulting the market at the time. The original idea was a monastery's garden by the coast, herbal and aromatic.
To do the trick they relied on both a clever construction (which was more "smoky oriental" than "marine") and some ingenious, suggestive marketing to compliment it later.
The imagery was easier to devise, although not easy to pull off exactly as planned: The packaging was an inviting hue of peachy, as was the colour of the juice, to suggest femininity and soft flesh, while the star ingredient that suggested beachy slopes and wild growth, broom (what the French call genet) was featured on the advertising images in an effort to reinforce the suggestion of wild beaches of escapist delights. The seaside town of Biarritz, where the official launch was scheduled, gathering a huge amount of press professionals, was practically painted peach to echo the livery. A chic picnic on the beach was set to kickstart the festivities. But someone had forgotten a small detail in the mix (or was he/she nonchalant enough the European way not to check it out?). It was a nudist beach...
The composition is never too clever by half, it's intelligent: The dissonant opening impression of Dior's Dune relies on a bitterish interplay between the tarriness of lichen ~alongside the distinct bracken feel of broom (in reality deertongue goes into the formula)~ with the sweeter oriental elements of the base. It's almost harsh! The phenolic, after all, is never more aptly played than when juxtaposed with a sweetish note (such as in natural honey in the form of phenolic acids), as exhibited to great effect by Bvlgari's Blackwhich was to follow at the end of the 1990s. The intelligence of Sieuzac nevertheless lied into injecting a "marine" fragrance with exactly the element that no one would expect from an oceanic-evoking landascape: warm oriental powder! If you lean closely, the top stage of Dune with its bitterish tendencies almost immediately gives way to a dry impression that almost recalls gusts of powder, but missing completely the candied violet-rose & makeup feel of the mainstays of feminine guiles, powder puffs. The official notes proclaim orris, but the effect is due to carrot seed (often used as a replication of the earthy, powdery undergrowth). This is a fragrance that is conceived as an extension of the boudoir into the outdoors, not an accoutrement out of it.
The warm amber (but not too sweet) and the musk base is there too under the other elements, almost like fig-filled biscuits rolled into floral tanning lotion. In fact I believe the Dior Bronze "summer fragrance" called Sweet Sun, was directly inspired by Dune. But the diaphanous interpretation of Dune allows it to pose as borderline "fresh". Almost "natural". Someone described it as "flesh-toned in the creepy way of artificial limps, not real ones", continuing into pronouncing it "marvellous" and "the bleakest beauty in all perfumery", and this Plastic Venus off the Waves stands indeed on a unique podium amidst the whole of modern perfumery: There's simply nothing quite like it.
Notes for Dior Dune: Top:bergamot, mandarin, palisander, aldehyde, peony, rosewood and broom Heart: jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, lily, wallflower, lichen, orris. Base: vanilla, patchouli, benzoin, sandalwood, amber, oakmoss, and musk.
The Eau de Toilette is my preferred concentration in this scent, possessing in greater degree the jarring elements which make Dune so very interesting to begin with. There is also an alcohol-free version for use in the sun, called Dune Sun, but as usual with alcohol-less versions, it lacks much staying power.
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