Lancome La Valee Bleue: vintage fragrance review

La Vallée Bleue from 1943, smack between the Occupation of Paris and the turmoil of WWII, comes in a moment in history rich in intrigue, ravages and the desire to escape them; which was puzzling me when I first discovered it exactly due to its timing. The perfume is also a poignant station in a long line of nowadays largely unknown Lancôme perfumes: the first five with which the firm was established in 1935 by Armand Petitjean -previously manager director at Coty- on occasion of the Brussels Exhibition (Bocages, Conquête, Kypre, Tendres Nuits, Tropiques, alongside Etiquette Noire, Cachet Bleu from the same year), Révolte (1936), Peut-Être (1937 and briefly re-issued in the late 2000s), Gardénia (1937), Flèches (1938), Fête de Paris (1938), Chèvrefeuille (1939) and of course Cuir (the changed name of the original Révolte) also from 1939.

These intermittent years of the war saw not only one, but four Lancome perfumes introduced: Les Oiseaux from 1944 as well as Ange and Lavandes in 1945. There is also La Nativité, briefly issued in 1945, relaunched in 1952 and then discontinued. Perhaps it is our twisted perception of the war-time era which accounts for our perplexment at this.

We tend to either overdramatize the plight, imagining that everything disappeared as if stolen by aliens, or we tend to imagine that the situation was more heroic than it was seeing numerous French resistance fighters where there were instead many collaborators and attendates (people remaining silent, just watching to see what happens). The truth is many commodities, even luxury commodities, continued to circulate, either for those in positions of power (be it the position of conqueror or of black-market profiteer) or for those who could still afford to get them in some way. At a time of strict rationing, women still permed their hair and bought cosmetics to boost their morale. L'Oréal, the famous French company starting in hair-dyes under the brand name Auréole (and who ultimately bought Lancôme out in 1965 after Petitjean's retirement in 1963), was so energetic that even the outbreak of World War II in 1939 failed to curb the company's growth and they continued to produce cosmetics throughout: Oréol, the first cold permanent wave, was introduced in 1945 when the war was drawing to an end. La Valée Bleue isn't totally incogruent with this frame.

The intoduction of Lancôme in the USA after WWII saw a proliferation of perfumes issued: A new trio for 1946: Marrakech, Nutrix and Qui Sait, Bel Automne (1947), Joyeux Eté (1947), Minlys (1949), Magie (1950), Lait des Hesperides (1950), Galateis (1951), Trésor (1952), Eau de Senteur de Lancôme (1952), Plaisir (1952), Grâces du Printemps (1952), Envol (1952), Seul Tresor (1955), Flèches D'Or (1957), Lancôme d'Abord (1958), Fêtes de l'Hiver (1959) all the way to Climat by 1967, which was introduced under the new ownership.

The scent of La Valée Bleue was not languishing though, as attested by the fact that it used to circulate in antique French coffrets including 4 Lancôme perfume bottles: Conquête, La Vallée Bleue, Bocages, Tendres Nuits. One alonside the 1935 classics, so to speak. Someone was buying this stuff regularly to make it popular enough, if it formed part of a selection to be offered as a gift.

La Valée Bleue smells like a vintage, but not necessarily too dated, too dark or thick and somewhat musty as some of the old perfumes do. The freshness of the composition, which rested on lime and lemon essences, refreshing with winey rosy terpenic nuances on a bed of herbaceous, cooling lavender, light amber and sandlwood, gave the perfume a character that is not contrasted too sharply with today's sensibilities. Sensibilities which demand a balance of fresh and warm, a balance between emotional and reserved. Even though the lavender is central in the plot, the fragrance smells like a composite mosaic in the SanVitale basilica in Ravenna rather than the central theme in a kid's 10-piece puzzle. Obviously the ravages of time and war have burnished some of the sheen of the vintage I have tried, so it's difficult to pinpoint exactly what goes into it. The general feel however is one of innocent nostalgia and mystery, reinforced by the landscape-evocative name and the timing of this elusive Lancôme perfume.

Pics thanks to the generosity and assistance of Lovelyhazel/MUA & her photographing husband. All copyright is theirs. Used here with permission.

The Nose is Never Wrong: Doubting One's Sense of Smell & Interpreting Fact into Words

The nose is never wrong. You read this right, the nose, any nose, is never wrong! Like the eye or the ear, the nose is a means to an end, a cluster of neurons transmitting factual information to the brain, where a complex
procedure is taking place into interpretating reality. We all see tiles in blue, but how many of us will describe them as cerulean, glaucous, Yale blue or azulejo? It all depends on our cultural and personal associations, our language's sophistication and our sensitivity to slight nuances. The same applies with smells. We've all heard of the limbic system, scent & pheromones, smell triggers memories, blah blah blah. How come if you take a hundred people in a room and ask them to smell the same thing you will have at least 20 different descriptors?

Because the fragrance industry has been cryptic for so long; because perfume writing and press material has been resting on familiar "structures" into communicating perfume a certain way; because sales associates have been instructed to just give out "notes" without furthering a dialogue with the potential consumer. For all these reasons, more often than not, a perfume lover is left doubting their own nose rather than contradict received knowledge. Let's illustrate our point with examples.

A common occurence is hair-tearing despair at the perfume counter when the sales assistant swears blind that the banana note you're smelling in a given perfume just isn't there. Who's right? (Probably your nose, banana is a natural facet of both jasmine sambac and ylang-ylang flowers, common ingredients in many fragrances). Another, a bit more elevated in the sophistication stakes, is arguing on the classification of a well-known perfume. Perfume enthusiasts know Dioressence by Dior is a revered classic. Some consider it an oriental; others classify it as a chypre. The same happens with Lancome's Magie Noire. What's the deal?
Oriental and chypre are two very distinct fragrance families with a different character and perceived effect: how can so many people err so much? Again, everyone's nose is on the right place, so to speak. The people who smell Dioressence and Magie Noire as oriental perfumes are smelling an older batch (or are going by received knowledge by perfume writing in books and blogs). The people who smell them as chypres are not wrong; they're smelling the leaned out, altered form of a newer reformulation, which gave a push to the direction of mossier, woodier (reminiscent correctly of chypre)! The industry is toying with us, hiding the years of reformulations unlike with wines which bear vintage year on their label, confusing us and making us doubt ourselves.

Chypre in particular is a tortured term: You see it brandished for every sophisticated blend in existence. It's perfumy, it's elegant, it's uncommon and smells like a million bucks? It must be a chypre! Not so, necessarily. There are quite a few wonderfully sophisticated and a bit green floral aldehydics, green florals and orientals with green elements out there which aren't technically chypres. Plus "nouveau chypres" (i.e. chypres technically enginered to avoid the obstacle of restricked oakmoss) are a bit different in smell anyway.
Chypre is a technical classification denoting a very specific structure and using the term is a very deliberate move on a speaker's/writer's part. We can't blanket-term using perfumery jargon! We can't use objective terms to convey subjective impressions or personal opinions. It's like bad journalism: "A fierce dog has bitten on an innocent citizen", jumbling opinion and fact, to reference Umberto Eco.

But the thing is what most people lack isn't a good grasp of scent (unless of course some medical peculiarity is present, but that's rare), but the best possible interpretative methodology into translating what they smell into a clear, coherent message. This can be down to education ~or more specifically the lack of simple & concise educational tools pertaining to olfaction. This is why we have insisted on Perfume Shrine on providing such tools through our Perfume Vocabulary posts and our Definition and Raw Materials articles, so as to facilitate the dialogue between people who wear and enjoy perfume.

Because ultimately, sharing the joy of perfume involves talking about it as well.

pic via americantransman.com

Frederic Malle is on Facebook: Hints, Tips & Insiders' Info

Sounds good? Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle has been operating an official Facebook page for some time now (since last autumn actually). What makes it follow-worthy and news-worthy is how it's set to provide insights into the inspiration behind the Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle collection, including Les Fleurs du Malle, a look at key floral notes integrated in Editions de Parfums fragrances, the F.Malle home collection, and weekly tips on fragrance.

However, most recently on the Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle Facebook page the team has been sharing quotes and passages that derive from Frédéric Malle’s new book “Frédéric Malle: On Perfume Making” (De l'Art du Parfum in French) which we had reported on Perfume Shrine first, like this one:
On the language of scent, Frédéric Malle says, “Many people believe that our work is quite intellectual and that we make endless references to other arts to feed our research. This is rarely the case.” The reasons for this can be found in “Frédéric Malle: On Perfume Making,” illustrated by Konstantin Kakanias, which launched exclusively at Barney’s in December and is set for wider availability this March.

This is also where Catherine Deneuve's tips on her own fragrance wearing come from, as she writes the foreword on the Malle book, showing her preference for Malle fragrances alongside her firm favourite L'Heure Bleue by Guerlain (and the rest of her fascinating perfume collection here). The soignée Iris Poudré was inspired by the classic film Belle de Jour after all, as Pierre Bourdon was intrigued by the introverted, shy yet passionately sensual personality of Séverine. And as to La Deneuve wearing Lipstick Rose, what can be more feminine than that?
We also learn many other small delights, such as that Christian Louboutin plies his best girlfriends with the gorgeous and fresh lily of Malle's Lys Méditerranée.

Looking ahead, the Facebook team looks into providing Facebook fans exclusive access to Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle perfumers, so as to give fragrance lovers an insider’s look at the driving forces behind the collection.

Visit the official F.Malle Facebook page here

Illustration by Robert Beck via AnOther Mag

Seker Pare & Halva: Semolina Recipes to Usher the Cold in with Glee

The Arabian word ḥalwà is mellifluous enough, rolling off the tongue, to induce fantasies of a Sarayı drenched in moonlight. But learn that the Turkish Şekerpare means "the dancer's bellybutton" and let the imagination roll...Seker Pare are mouth-watering "cookies" if you will, made with fine semolina, baked until golden and then soaked in sweet syrup. The rounded curves of the pastry recall the plump and inviting belly of a belly dancer, the almond in the middle is...the belly button. But no, the pedestrian reality is that Şeker means sugar in Turkish and Pare is the Persian word for "piece". The fantasy version is so much more creative though, isn't it?

Devouring the popular Greek food magazine "Gastronomos" (literally arbitrer of the belly) I happened upon Ketty Koufonikola, owner of Cafe Avissinia (tfuno  navigate site!) in Athens' Monastiraki district, who presented a recipe for Şekerpare; here slightly adapted for home preparation. Kaiti's cooking combines the distinct cuisines of Constantinople/Istanbul and Northern Greece and this recipe is no exception.

As to halva (a popular dessert in both the Middle East, the Balkans and India) I need to point that in Greece we tend to eat both types of halva: the sticky semolina type and the crumbly sesame paste type (made with tahini), what the Jewish call "halvah", though made without the soapwort. But only one of these is made at home, the former, which accounts for the use of "grocer's halvah" appelation that the latter type still retains among the elders; a small quantity bought for the days of Lent ensured ample nutrition for the family. Interestingly, it's the sesame paste type that has been handed down through classical times, a no doubt proof of the fact that adiposity is the path to an ethnos's spiritual ruin. But I digress.
It is the semolina type halva, in various orchestrations/twists, which has marked many wintry afternoons of my childhood, as we stirred with big wooden spatulae, me and my mother, on pots with olive oil and golden dust, to make a yummy dessert which aromatized the whole house with its spicy bouquet. Its super-easy recipe to remember, short-handed into "1:2:3:4", as it calls for one unit of oil, two of semolina, three of sugar and four of water, is etched in my memory.

Recipe for Greek Semolina Halva

1 cup of extra virgin olive oil
2 cups of wheat semolina, rough grind
3 cups of white granulated sugar
4 cups of water
2-3 cinnamon sticks
5-10 cloves
1/3 cup raisins
1/3 cup pine nuts

Put the oil and semolina in a big pot under slow fire on the stove and stir slowly until golden. Then add the raisins and pine nuts and keep on the stove for a little longer, till the pine nuts are golden too.

In the meantime, get the water to boil with the sugar and the aromatics in another pot. When it's bubbling vigorously, pour slowly into the pot with the semolina, stirring quickly (and carefully, it will bubble and might sprinkle you with hot material!) until thoroughly mixed.

Stir, stir and stir some more over the stove, until it doesn't stick to the pot and most water has seemingly evaporated. Pour over a deep bowl and let it sit covered with a thin napkin (it will still steam a bit and you want as much water evaporated as possible, as this will make it lighter on the stomach). You can then decorate with blanched almonds, shredded walnuts or raisins, sprinkle with grounded cinnamon and serve when cool.

Καλή όρεξη!

Recipe for Turkish Şekerpare

2 sticks butter at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs

2 1/2 cups flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/3 cup fine semolina

1/3 cup whole blanched almonds

for the syrup:

2 cups water

2 cups sugar

orange blossom water/hydrosol
lemon peel
2 vanilla pods

Pre-heat the oven to 190C/375F degrees. Whisk together the flour and baking powder in a bowl and set aside. Cream the butter and sugar together until fluffy. Add the eggs stirring carefully. Stir in the semolina and mix lightly. Add the flour and mix until the dough no longer sticks to the sides of the bowl (use a bit more flour if necessary).

Line a cookie sheet with parchment. Form the dough into balls the size of a chestnut and place on the parchment. Place a whole almond in the center of each ball, pushing it halfway in. Bake until light golden. 

In the meantime, heat 2 cups of water with 2 cups of sugar, add  and bring to a boil. Add a 3-inch piece of lemon peel and two vanilla pods, opened & scraped, and let it simmer.

Remove the cookies from the oven, and immediately pour thehot syrup with a spoon on each and every one of them, allowing them to absorb the syrup. They should be spongy but not soggy.
Eat at room temperature and keep in an air-tight tin box.

pic of sekerpare via otikatsi-soula.blogspot.com, pic of halva via cretaolympias.gr

Agent Provocateur by Agent Provocateur: fragrance review

When the first Agent Provocateur perfume first launched in 2000 in its ostrich-egg-sized pink bottle, little did one expect that the scent within would be atavitistic to the lineage of impressionable floral chypres of yore. Chypres, a perfumy and mossy family of fragrances, had been effectively extinguished from a whole generation's memory by then (relegated to mothers and grandmothers who continued to wear their signature scents discovered decades ago) and were incomprehensible things to another: surely this was a doomed project? Who in their trendy minds remembered or wore Shiseido Inoui, Balenciaga Cialenga, K de Krizia, never mind Mitsouko or Miss Dior?

But curiously enough, it caught on!

Why it Worked
Agent Provocateur is a lingerie brand teetering on the edge of campy and they made ample use of that element to promote their fragrant wares. To quote Adentures of a Barbarella: "They aspire to be kinky, elegant, sophisticated, and somewhere along the line it goes wrong. Their clientele is stuck up, their models are either socialites or Russian escorts (it's a fine line), and they sold out last year. The depraved tone of the campaigns can be hilarious". But after all, what's the point of racy lingerie if you take yourself too seriously, right?

But the thing is their first fragrance is sexy as hell, a bit retro, a bit modern, and all around brave and great, considering they launched at the end of the aquatic/ozonic brigade of the 1990s and the advent of cupcakes-from-hell of the 00s. It's deservedly something of a cult favourite, if only for the fact that it was so very different.


Scent Description
The big Moroccan rose in Agent Provocateur's heart, much like in classic Jean Couturier's Coriandre from the 1970s, is complimented by a paper-y woody note of amber and vetiver combined with warm musks, but it is the saffron along with the upbeat coriander that bring a rather animalic and weirdly "dirty" quality to the fragrance making it the olfactory equivalent of an aged Hollywood star the morning after she has had a rampant night in bed with a nostalgizing fan half her years.

This is a perfume to wear sparingly (it can be big), but it won't change much during the day and after the initial impression it dries down to an erotic and  skin-friendly, skin-compatible nuzzling buzz.
Agent Provocateur original EDP is in hindsight similar to many fragrances which followed, so if you like any of them you should give the great-aunt a try: Gres Cabaret, Lady Vengeance by Juliette has a Gun, Narciso Rodriguez Narciso for Her EDT.

Available as Eau de Parfum from major department stores.

Flankers & Stuff
The brand has brought out variations on the theme with:  Agent Provocateur Eau Emotionelle (EDT from 2006), Agent Provocateur L'Eau Provocateur (new, lighter interpetation for spring 2012), Agent Provocateur L'Agent (2011) and Agent Provocateur L'Agent L'Eau Provocateur (spring 2012) in similar pink-ostrich-egg bottles. They can differ quite a bit with L'Agent being a woody floral musk.
Nota bene that the quite different fragrance by the same brand called Maitresse is also having a lighter flanker edition for spring 2012, called -you guessed it- Agent Provocateur Maitresse L'Eau Provocateur.

Diptyque Scented Soothing Lip Balm: new for Valentine's Day

New Soothing Lip Balm by Diptyque belongs in the Art of Body Care line of the niche brand's portfolio and is inspired by the women of Fes, the ancient city-state of Morocco, who used the pigment of the poppy for its colour and protecting virtues.

This new addition to the Art of Body Care blends cotton oil and mango butter to repair, regenerate and prevent aging, but it's the promised delicately perfumed aspect wich has me interested!
Sounds like the perfect little indulgence for the upcoming Valentine's Day celebrations.

Available for 35$ online.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Diptyque new Rosa Mundi and Eau de Rose scents, Diptyque news & reviews

The winner of the draw...

....for the Banana Republic fragrance is NadineisthatU. Congratulations! Please email me using the Contact on top with your shipping data, so I can forward them to the proper people to take care of shipping your prize to you soon.

Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one!

Some Changes

The beginning of the new year (are we into February already?) sparks a desire to re-organise things and with that in mind and the spring-clean looming in the distance I have established some small changes on the site to make it more practical and useful to you, my trusty readers.

You will notice that I have removed the Monthly Archives on the right-hand column as they were just cluttering up the page. You can still find them on the Sitemap under Blog Archives, if you recall a particular season rather than a particular subject and want to refresh your memory.
I have also compiled an Index of Fragrance Reviews by Note which is especially useful to newbies (but not bad for experienced perfume lovers as well); say, if you're looking for fragrances or information about civet or incense, for instance, it's much more convenient to have all relevant things in one place. This is where the magic of tabs comes handy. Please help me out into pointing out if I missed something you want to include.
The Index of Fragrance Reviews by House is still there on the Sitemap, if you recall the manufacturer. I also intend to compile one by perfumer, in case you want to zoom into a specific perfumer's "style", having discovered you click with it (or want to avoid another's!); hopefully this will be soon up.

Finally, I have removed the Personalised Google Search gadget from the right-hand column and gave it its own seperate Search page. It still works like a charm (you can write anything and it will land you to all posts on Perfume Shrine containing your search word) and declutters the page.
And remember that clicking the Older Posts link at the end of the stream of current posts (on the Home Page) will get you back chronologically, in case there's something recent you missed.

Hope you enjoy the changes and please don't hesitate to write me if you find any broken links.

photo of Tuesday Weld via starletshowcase

Definition: Terpenic, Phenolic & Camphoraceous in Fragrances

Perfume vocabulary is diverse and often confusing. Therefore we have compiled an extensive reference on Perfume Shrine, analysing the various perfume terms applied by perfumers with examples of actual perfumes. Today's terms comprise some of the more "acquired taste" definitions on fragrant materials &finished compositions. More perfume jargon than marketing copy, the sheer force and almost visceral effect they have leaves no one indifferent.

copal with trapped insects (wikimedia commons)

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

• Definition: Indolic vs. Non Indolic
• Definition: Lactonic, Creamy, Milky, Butyric
• Definition: Powdery & Dry in Fragrances
• Definition: Resinous & Balsamic
• Definition: Soapy in Fragrances
• Definition: Which Material Produces Which Note/Effect?

Terpenic, Phenolic and Camphorous are not terms you'd see brandished in a general discussion about fragrance or in the promotional material handed out by perfume companies. More smell-specific and objective definitions than subjective terms ~relating to appreciation rather than factual knowledge, such as sharp, soft, ambrosial, tart, pungent or zesty~ they form a cluster of nuances within a more general smell group, namely citrus, leather and green respectively. Let's see them one by one.

Terpenic: Perversely Fresh, Rosy Citrus with Hints of Turpentine
Terpenic comes from terpenes, a large and diverse class of organic compounds (ten carbon alcohols), produced by conifers (and a few insects) for protective reasons, as they are strong-smelling, reminiscent of turpentine. You're more familiar with terpenes than you think: The aroma and flavor of hops, a prime constituent in select beers, comes from terpenes. Vitamin A and squalene are also terpenes and so are their derivative.
In fragrances, however, the term is associated with conifer-deriving essences, particularly pine (which contains a-pinene and b-pinene alonside the combined molecule terpineol) and fir. Copal, a tree resin that is particularly identified with the aromatic resins used by the cultures of pre-Columbian Mesoamerica as ceremonially burned incense and other purposes, is also rather more acrid than most other resins (though resins can have terpenic facets, especially frankincense/olibanum) and therefore requires its own little footnote.

Various terpenes are present in a variety of plants emitting fresh scent: farnesol is present in many essential oils such as citronella, neroli, lemon grass, tuberose, rose, and tolu balsam; geraniol (which smells rosy in isolation) is the primary part of rose oil, palmarosa oil, and Javanese citronella oil; limonene is the dominant terpene in lemon peel. Citing these examples it's easy to see how terpenic stands for fresh & dry, bitter citrusy with a background of a petrol and winery note. Serge Lutens Fille en Aiguilles is a beautiful exaple that combines the terpenic facets of pine into a smooth base with sweeter elements. Caron's Alpona is a "dry as a bone", clean, refreshing and bitter rendition of the citrus peel note.

pine resin (wikimedia commons)

Phenolic: Tar-Like and Acrid
Phenolic comes from phenol (carbolic acid and phenic acid), an organic compound in white crystal form which possesses a very pungent, acrid, smoky scent that is very dry and can veer into tarry-smelling, even like bitumen and hot tarmac. Fitting considering that -like many perfumery ingredients- phenol was first isolated from coal tar. Tar came from the pyrolysation of pine trees and from peat. The latter is often used as a term to describe certain whiskeys (peaty tasting) and it's incomphrehensible to most who wouldn't dream how peat tastes like. But think of it as tarry and you're there!
Natural sources include tea, coffee and chocolate and yerba maté, but even fruits such as pomegranates and blackcurrant can be refered to as having phenolic facets (in the case of the fruits behind the tangy top notes); phenol is leaning into acidic rather than alcaline. In perfumery castoreum, birch tar and narcissus all exhibit their barnyard and smoky black tea tar-like facets in various fragrances.

Usually phenolic is a term we use to describe leathery fragrances, such as Chanel Cuir de Russie, Etro Gomma, Knize Ten, Bvlgari Black. The Chanel fragrance is an interesting example as it combines a de iuro resinous note (birch tar) with phenolic facets. Birch tar is poised to me between resinous and phenolic: rather think of phenolic as a sub-dividion of a more generalised resin group, much like terpenic is a more nuanced division under the citrus & resin groups.
A beautiful, truly "phenolic fragrance" that sets the example for this kind of thing is the scarce & super exclusive Eau de Fier by Annick Goutal. Another interpretation comes in leathery fragrances, especially hard-core ones, such as Lonestar Memories by Tauer Perfumes. Gaucho by Ayala Moriel takes the more yerba maté like note as its departure point in a fougère fragrance composition full of coumarin.
L'Artisan Parfumeur explores the leathery, phenolic facets of narcissus in their harvest fragrance Fleur de Narcisse. 

Vapor Rub via pos-ftiaxnetai.blogspot.com

Camphorous/Camphoraceous: Cool, Sharp Green
Seen with both spellings, the scent of camphor is familiar to us from common "moth balls" which utilize the white crystalls for moth repelling. However the cooling, sharp and pungent scent of camphor which triggers the trigeminal nerve in the nose (hence the intense repulsion it can produce to sensitive individuals) is also a constituent, small but very significant of certain fragrant plants: Eycalyptus and the camphor laurel (from which camphor is often derived, though not exclusively as it can be made synthetically as well) are the obvious suspects, but camphoraceous smells also include one end of the lavender essence spectrum (that medicinal top note, the other end is caramelic), patchouli and the top note of tuberose and gardenia.

This is why often such perfumes are curedly described as "smelling like moth-balls". They can also have positive connotations, memory associations with the smell of Vicks vaporub (or not, depending on how often and how much your parents used to use on you as a kid!).

The beautiful vibrancy that camphor brings to a composition can be seen in intense patchouli fragrances, as Clinique Aromatics Elixir or Voleur de Roses by L'Artisan Parfumeur, as well as some "modern classic" tuberose fragrances, such as Frederic Malle Carnal Flower and Gardenia Passion by Annick Goutal. Ylang ylang flower (cananga odorata) apart from the salicylates facet it has can also take camphorous nuances, as evidenced by another Goutal fragrance, Passion.

Blackberry and raspberry were very piano. Vanilla had elements of both piano and woodwind

"Sweet and sour smells were rated as higher-pitched, smoky and woody ones as lower-pitched. Blackberry and raspberry were very piano. Vanilla had elements of both piano and woodwind. Musk was strongly brass." Thus claims a very interesting article in the Economist named Smells like Beethoven, focused on the study of individuals comparing sounds to smells.

"Most people agree that loud sounds are “brighter” than soft ones. Likewise, low-pitched sounds are reminiscent of large objects and high-pitched ones evoke smallness. Anne-Sylvie Crisinel and Charles Spence of Oxford University think something similar is true between sound and smell.
Ms Crisinel and Dr Spence wanted to know whether an odour sniffed from a bottle could be linked to a specific pitch, and even a specific instrument. To find out, they asked 30 people to inhale 20 smells—ranging from apple to violet and wood smoke —which came from a teaching kit for wine-tasting. After giving each sample a good sniff, volunteers had to click their way through 52 sounds of varying pitches, played by piano, woodwind, string or brass, and identify which best matched the smell. The results of this study, to be published later this month in Chemical Senses, are intriguing."

The whole synaesthesia experiment has yielded results that show that even for "normal" people some overlap between the senses does happen.

pic Smell.oƒ.Sound. by Allison Kunath via picsy

The French Recognize Perfumery as Art

‘Le Ministère se met au parfum’, a new interactive exhibition at the Palais Royal in Paris has opened to show the history of perfumes and the know-how of perfumers. At the inauguration, the French Minister of Culture acknowledged perfumery as an art. The honorific order of “Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres” has been bestowed to 5 great perfumers : Daniela Andrier (Givaudan), Françoise Caron (Takasago), Olivier Cresp (Firmenich), Dominique Ropion (IFF) and Maurice Roucel (Symrise). Must have felt good.

Farmacia SS Annunziata Talc Gourmand, Sweet Musk & Vetiver Incenso: 3 new fragrances

Xllence, the new line of fragrances of niche Italian brand Farmacia SS. Annunziata from 1561 is an embarassment of riches: three huge eaux de parfum in 250ml bottles with a retro pump atomiser- Talc Gourmand, Sweet Musk and Vetiver Incenso.

Farmacia SS.Annunziata came aboard the "luxury with abandon" bandwagon of XXL containers rather later than others (Chanel, Hermes), perhaps dispelling two myths: the two drops of perfume worn by Marilyn Monroe in bed or that size doesn't matter. The new collection aims to please different tastes at any rate, including gourmand notes, musk and vetiver.

Soft and sweet, Talc Gourmand eschews the liveliness of the top notes in favour of powdery, talc-like notes softened by a touch of honey and caramel. In the heart vanilla, heliotrope and chocolate melts on a woody-sweet base composed of sandalwood and tonka bean.

Sweet Musk focuses on a heart of musk, sensualised by the inclusion of rose and jasmine on top. Musk gains in seductive wiles, underscored by velvety vanilla, amber and patchouli.

Infused with the aroma of spices on woods, Vetiver Incenso on the other hand rests on a complex scheme of citrus-spicy top notes (lemon, bergamot, grapefruit and ginger), seguing to a spicy-woody heart (juniper and pink pepper) and woody-amber notes in the final phase (oak moss, patchouli, amber and cedar wood)The main accord of incense-vetiver oscillates between warm and cool.

The new Xllence line by Farmacia SS. Annunziata comes in Eau de Parfum concentration of 250 ml.