“I carry McCormick’s Pure Vanilla — the baking kind — and dab it on my neck,” Jennifer Love Hewitt, the popular American actress and producer, tells Us Weekly. “Men are attracted to the scent! One time, I put it on and four different guys were like, ‘You smell amazing!’”
"Vanilla is the bronzer of the fragrance world. In large doses, it's overwhelming, but when used to subtler effect, it can be wonderfully sexy. [...] a great deal of what we associate with vanilla scent, in terms of perfume, is just an approximation, created in a lab, which is then usually wrapped around some other note (fruit, chocolate, musk) for a sickly, cavity-inducing effect. " writes Allure.
Vanilla cooking extract is really vanillin, not the richer, more treackly product of the vanilla pod (which is an orchid), but it has the intensely soft, cuddly scent of childhood. Could it be that the subliminal message is a child-like quality is most desirable? Or is it that triggering a happy time for most people is a feel good, win-win situation?
Guerlain gives us a vacant eye zombie. Like Natalia Vodianova's baby blues look empty and not quite there in sepia pictures, lacking the density , the pathos, the slicing through paper that darker eyes carry, yet those vacant blues carry their own strange allure, Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau is a very pretty thing posing in a company that it probably shouldn't be among. Taken individually, it is a soft, enveloping, delicate scent of fairies. Taken as a member in the Shalimar company, it's too baby-ish to be taken seriously.
The commercially successful experiment ofShalimar Parfum Initial (2011), an introductoryShalimarfor those consumers who knew the brand through their cosmetics & skincare or for the young clientele that always associatedthe classic Shalimarwith older generations and longed for a version to claim their own (see alsoShalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar LightandEau de Shalimarfor previous efforts into this arena), gave us hope. For 2012 Guerlain, as we had early on announced, was bent on launching a flanker tothe modernised Shalimar Parfum Initial version (a flanker to a flanker, if you like) this spring, calledShalimar Initial L'Eau.Now, this is exactly why I usually tend to dislike the concept of flankers: it's so easy to lose track or confuse things, ending up discussing a completely different thing than your fellow partner in the discussion. Shalimar Initial L'Eauis both a lighter and drier new formula on the previous experiment, not just a different concentration or a new bottle edition (Shalimar in generalknowsmore limited editions than it can possibly count). The bottle is the exact same style as Shalimar Parfum Initial, only in a lighter hue with a baby pink ribbon on the neck (instead of a greyish blue one) bearing the familiar G medaillon. The similarity leads me to believe that they do intend to keep this version in the line as just a different concentration of the Parfum Initial, not only a one-time-thing limited edition. Especially if it proves a good seller.
Perfumer Thierry Wasser was put on record saying he chose a specific grade of bergamot from a Guerlain communelle (i.e. a special reserve that Guerlain keeps for each of their famous ingredients) which is a tad greener and zestier than usual. What is most distinguishable however, smelling the finished fragrance, is a premium grade neroli which gives a subtle, refreshing tonality, lightening the formula considerably and further making it fluffy and airy. If Shalimar Parfum Initial is a watercolour, this is a rinse. Despite the mentioned notes of "greenery" in the official press release, such as lily of the valley, freesia and hyacinth, the vividness of the bright citrus notes with a lightly sweet aspect is what stays with you. The new spin doesn't really boost the green freshness (like that inMiss Dior Chérie L'Eau) but focuses on the neroli essence and a tart grapefruit top note to counterpoint the traditional carnality of the original base of Shalimar (built on opoponax resin, all powdery splendour, Peru balsam and benzoin with their rich, treackly aspect and quinolines with their leathery, sharp, disturbing bite). Instead the leathery note in Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau has been further toned down than it was in the Initial (annihilated you could argue) substituted by an admittedly delicious crème brûlée note. Overall we're witnesses to the deliberate culling of the balsamic aspect that makes Shalimar so famous and recognisable. This leaves us with a spectre; a fascinating apparition amidst the shadows, blink and you'll miss its ethereal form, but is it related to Shalimar of old? No, it's not.
What I find most surprising for a Shalimar version is the relative lack of tenacity and sufficient projection: three generous spritzes on my arm (catching my trench-coat sleeve too) have lasted just 4 hours and no one but myself was aware of the fact that I was wearing perfume. For an eau de toilette concentration it's not totally unusual, but for Guerlain and for a flanker in that iconic oriental stable it is most peculiar.
The ultra-patriotic French won't be too pleased with Lisa Chaney's book on Chanel and her life unfolded in intimate detail for the tome she has signed, "Chanel an Intimate Life". Not only because there is a significant deconstruction of the myth that Chanel herself (and the people at Chanel) have built about that instantly picked-up logo, but also because they're painted in truer colors than the De Gaulle resistance fighters have always strived to present the WWII heroic romance. Chaney simply puts things into an historical perspective: Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel's link to Nazi officer Von Dincklage is a reflection of many common people's strive for survival through if not collaboration, then through "waiting it out". In fact the chapter recounting her passage into the war, when she closed her atelier, is titled "Survival".
Coco Chanel & Salvador Dali, scanned from Chanel an Intimate Life by openwardrobe.co.za
Modern readers will also get a mixed bag of feelings reading about women in the drawing of the 19th century who activately sought to cling to men for their survival: if they were unlucky and emotional, acting desperate for men who didn't give them much of a chance and used them as both recreational ground and reproductive machines, like Gabrielle's own unfortunate mother; if they were shrewd and calculating, using their guiles and beauty as hard currency to become irregulières and in some select cases grandes horizontales, i.e. famous courtesans, such as La Belle Otéro and Liane de Pougy. It is in this dubious (but often glamorized) latter milieu that Gabrielle Chanel gets into cognizantly, as an irregulière , a kept woman, after her lonely childhood and her early cabaret days, where she meets her formative lover and "the man of her life", Arthur "Boy" Capel. The book in fact starts with one of the discussions the famous designer has with Capel after he has successfully backed her up in her initial millinery projects: "I thought I'd given you a plaything, I gave you freedom" he sighs.
Chaney goes into much detail about the emotional life of Chanel and even though this portrayal is necessarily based on letters and biographies such as the memoir taken by Paul Morand, which can only reveal so much, and second-hand testimonies, which sometimes bear the special weight of the narrator, it seems that Gabrielle was a much more sensitive, responsive and agitated creature than we take her to be, especially after Capel's tragic death. I was especially distraught when reading about her final days, when the cocaine habit had taken the worst of her and she had been giving instructions to be tied on her bed at night so that she would avoid somnambulating naked amidst the corridors and the lobby of the Ritz that was to become her permanent residence.
The author takes things at the very top; the family background in rural France and the troubled formative years of Gabrielle Chanel which end in her abandonment by her father to Aubazine, the nun-run orphanage where she acquires much of her love for austerity, sharpness of aesthetics and love for the smell of cleanness. This is where her ideal for a perfume, to be later on materialized in the stupendous Chanel No.5. composed by Ernest Beaux, first takes seed: She admires the grandes cocottes because they smell pleasant. Speaking of society women Chanel would often say: "Ah yes, those women dressed in ball gowns, whose photographs we contemplate with a touch of nostalgia, were dirty....They were dirty. Are you surprised? But that's the way it was." Instead her own perfume differentiates itself in that it is a contstructed scent, not mimicking nature in order to mask humanity, but which relays the idea of a clean human being ready to please and be pleased. The book doesn't devote as much space or interest in Chanel No.5 or any of the other acclaimed perfumes issued when Chanel was alive, such as Bois des Iles, Cuir de Russie, Chanel Gardenia or Chanel No.19 perfume (or the even more cryptic and mystery ladden Chanel No.46 issued during the war). It certainly isn't as jam-packed with theories and factoids as the rewriting of the No.5 legend that Tilar Mazzeo undertook in The Secret of Chanel No.5 book. But there are still some interesting facts about the creation of this icon in the fragrance industry for those interested.
What the book seems to be unable to convincingly showcase, much as it tries and partially succeeds into, is show the genius of Chanel's fashions. The problem is one of format, rather than of effort: Only a coffee table book format could do justice to the wonderful designs that truly liberated women from the restrictions of La Belle Epoque which relished effect rather than functionality. Chaney does give emphasis into the silhouette that Chanel established, gives plenty of insight into how the atelier worked and lots of gossip on the relationship of Coco Chanel with her contemporaries and colleagues, from Poiret (her first potent rival) and Schiaparelli (whom she loathed) to Balenciaga (whom she respected, even though she never showed him the graciousness he exhibited towards her). There is also plenty of insights into her property (with extensive references to La Pausa, the house she had built and which she oversaw herself); her conducting of business, including her turbulent relationship with the Wertheimers; her entourage of artists and entrepreneurs from Serge Lifar and Diaghilev to her confidante Misia Sert, Cocteau and Reverdy; and of course her string of influential lovers after the loss of Capel, among which feature prominently the emigré count Dmitri Pavlovich, composer Igor Stravinsky and "Bend d'Or" commonly known as the Duke of Westminster.
Lisa Chaney is thorough and if you thought this is just a book on Coco's fashions or Chanel perfumes, you're in for a surprise. The scope covered is much, much wider, taking the stepping stone of a biography into a glimpse of European history: a dying era, a mad resurgence, a world wide war and the growth that follows its aftermath. It's not light reading, but it's worth it.
Disclosure: I was sent a copy for reviewing purposes.
Marc Jacobs is debuting a new perfume, called Dot in a "cute" ladybug bottle, in July 2012 for the US and in August internationally. Dot is the third major women's scent from Jacobs, who's also issued Daisy, launched in 2007, and Lola, in 2009.
Dot's dot-bedecked bottle is supposed to evoke a "ladybug with butterflies alighting on it". Marc Jacobs Dot fragrance has top notes of red berries, dragon fruit and honeysuckle; a heart of jasmine, coconut water and orange blossom and a drydown of vanilla, driftwood and musk. Sounds totally innocuous. 19-year-old Codie Young fronts the advertisements.
I personally find the bottle juvenile, in a really bad way. Then again I found Lola kitch as well.
Legend wants it that the goddess Flora created violets out of the body of a butterfly, but flowers have the power to lure humans in ways that insects can't fathom. Did you know that Tristan carved a message to Yseult on a branch covered in honeysuckle, the flower standing for devotion, thus signaling the infinity of their bond? Kama, the Indian goddess of love, strikes her victims with a jasmine-laced arrow. Greek and Latin god Eros/Cupid spilled a cup of red wine on the white rose, turning it from a symbol of purity to code for romance. Tuberose ignites innermost desires as its seductive, highly heady warmth garlands newlywed's beds in a promise of sensual profusion. And gardenia was introduced as the height of courtesy and elegance when Beau Brummel first put one as his boutonniere on the jacket lapel back in the 19th century. The custom of offering lily of the valley on May 1st dates even further back: it was Charles IX who first offered these tiny bell-shaped flowers to his mother, Catherine de Medicis, as a good luck charm.
Renunculas & Apples by Jeffrey Smith
This spring I brought out the following fragrances to mark the transition from the bonfires, the rich ambers and the patchoulis of wintertime to the hopeful freshness and floral garlands of springtime.
Patricia de Nicolai Le Temps d'une Fete
Barnyard narcissus frolics sweetly with hyacinth, daffodil and galbanum. Like a roll in the hay on a warm May day.
Editions des Parfums Frederic Malle Une Fleur de Cassie
Oozing with animalic come-hither while at the same time retaining a fuzzy, soft caressing innocence. A masterpiece.
Maria Candida Gentile Hanbury
A staggering vista of a Mediterranean garden; sweetly citrusy on top, lushly floral and nectarous in the heart thanks to calycanthus and mimosa, wonderfully understated and elegant in its base.
Guerlain Aqua Alegoria Jasminora
A. Japanese garden, misty at the edge of dawn. A trellis of white blossoms, tiny in the emerging light.
Clarins Elysium
Clean and fresh, without being soapy, screechy or loud; delicate, elegant, sadly discontinued.
Tauer Perfumes Zeta
Almost flavored by linden blossom, reminiscing me of edible linden or rose honey I used to buy when gallivanting on the slopes of Zakinthos island in the Ionian Sea, rather than merely the delightful blossoms on the tree.
YSL Paris
A mirage of rose and violet that takes us into a Parisian springtime stroll under the Seine bridges.
Yves Rocher Pur Desir de Lilas
Yves Rocher captures the sweet pollen like facet of lilac in the heart, while retaining the bright aspects of a vivid floral on top.
Lauder Private Collection Jasmine White Moss
Graceful, fresh and powdery with orris, jasmine and orange blossom, without pretence, classy....
a "nouveau chypre" that is proud of the moniker.
Chanel Les Exclusifs Bel Respiro
Brings on a pastoral theme to its stemmy, herbal aroma of galbanum with touches of spring florals. To don with a sundress and slingbacks.
After some communication with Chandler Burr, the curator of Olfactory Art at the Museum of Arts and Design in NYC, we have an official opening date for "The Art of Scent 1889-2011": Nov 13, 2012.
This exhibition is different than anything you have seen as of yet. As Burr himself explains: "My Department of Olfactory Art is not a physical “department” where I have specific space. All of us curators (we are now 6 total, I think) have the use of ALL the Museum’s gallery space, which are floors 2,3,4,and 5. We can all do programs in the MAD Theater, workshops and classes in the education room on the 6th floor, and we all sponsor artists, who work in various artistic media, in the 6F Artist Studios. (All of these can be seen on www.madmuseum.org.) All of us curators work to assemble exhibitions (concept, budget, budget, budget, works of art we want to exhibit, etc.), and when all the stars line up, we look at the museum schedule and we schedule Show X into (say) the 5th floor space from (say) June 1 to September 1. Then next year your exhibition is put on the 3rd floor from Feb 1 to May 15. You get how it works? We’re all competing for the same real estate, and everyone’s exhibition comes and then goes. (Of course when it goes, that means we’re trying to get it to travel, to be shown at (for example) the Centre Pompidou in Paris, the Tate in London, the Mori Museum in Tokyo, the Austin Museum of Art in Austin, TX, the Hammar Museum in Los Angeles, etc. etc.)"
To help the fundraising a Scent Dinner has been organised (over which Chandler presides but has no monetary control over):
The Museum of Arts and Design’s Visionaries! 2012 Scent Gala
Monday, November 12th, Mandarin Oriental, New York City
"Please save the date of Monday, November 12, 2012 and plan to join Chandler Burr, Curator of Olfactory Art, and the Museum of Arts and Design for a scent dinner in conjunction with MAD’s annual Visionaries! Gala. Each year, the Visionaries! Gala celebrates outstanding individuals in the arts and industry. In celebration of MAD’s inaugural scent exhibition, it is only fitting that many of this year’s honorees are leaders in the scent industry.
Held this year at the Mandarin Oriental, New York City, Visionaries! begins with a cocktail reception and silent auction followed by an awards ceremony and scent dinner lead by Chandler Burr.
The Visionaries! Gala is the Museum’s most important annual fundraiser supporting MAD’s exhibitions and educational programs. A silent auction will include travel and dining packages, exceptional experiences, design items, luxury goods, and jewelry. Each year, more than 500 guests, including arts patrons, artists, designers and noted corporate and civic leaders, attend the event. Ticket prices for the gala range from $1,250–$2,500; tables are priced from $10,000–$25,000"
For more information, please call 212.299.7729 or email Stephanie.Lang@madmuseum.org
To extrapolate that Madonna's Truth or Dare celebrity fragrance is a Fracas-inspired vehicle is a given unless you had been living under a rock for the past 20 years. Not only had the reference been clearly made when the classic Fracas by Robert Piguet was re-issued under new directorship sometimes in the mid-1990s (along with the equally classic and controversial Bandit perfume) ~and Madonna was letting the world know she wore Fracas because it reminded her of her mother~ the famous quinquagenarian has been known to love tuberose and gardenia anyway. True to form, though not daringly enough, her fragrance Truth or Dare, late on the bandwagon of celebrity fumes, is indeed a sharp, loud tuberose with added side notes of waxy gardenia, coconut for a tropical feel to the white flowers and amber-musks in the base. It's the right thing to wear if you're decked in a conservative tailleur and fishnet veil with black eyeliner and red lipstick and horny after a handsome toreador just like Madonna herself was in "Take a Bow". (The image says it all, really; lady and tramp in equal measure).
Because Truth or Dare is a true celebrity perfume (the face behind it infinitely more important than the juice), but at the same time coming from a celebrity who is well known for her genuine interest in fragrances and her vast collection, I decided to evaluate the fragrance in a "game" of plus and cons. After all, Madonna has played the Madonna-Whore duality herself for decades.
The minus points
By now tuberose and gardenia have been tackled beyond the iconic Fracas in a pleiad of guises by niche perfume companies, sometimes to incredible results: The natural green and tropical vibrancy of Carnal Flower by Frédéric Malle is hard to beat. The silkiness of the initially mentholated Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens is unsurpassable. The refinement of Beyond Love by Kilian, very close to Fracas, but a bit more natural feeling, is a wonder of artistry and nature: Calica Becker used the fresh flowers as a reference to narrow the gap between the oil and the real blossom and the injection of coconut gives a sensuous mantle of real human skin. For real gardenia we have Estée Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia which smells as real as the living thing, green buds, browning petals and all.
Madonna's effort therefore seems too little, too late. If Truth or Dare had been issued 15 or even 10 years ago (why wasn't it? that is the question) we would have been more responsive to its white flowers message. By now, it's almost a cliché. (And inspires its own caricature, please open with caution) Even Kim Kardashian has issued her very own version in her first fragrance; with an added dose of sugarcane, of course...And if rock-babe Courtney Love issues a celebrity perfume in the future, I'm sure she will get endless propositions on the same model of tuberose-gardenia given her self-proclaimed love of Fracas as well. (Whether she will capitulate though, that's another matter)
The plus points
Presenting a waxy tuberose-gardenia combo ~and a loud, unashamed one at that~ to the audience of teeny-bopper consumers who are used to sugar-laced sanitised white florals or fruity swirls with a ton of ethylmaltol & patchouli in there is commendable. Obviously not only teenagers have a right to a celebrity perfume and fans of Madge have reason to celebrate, I guess. It's not going to garner you "youthful" comments though, be prepared (Not a bad thing in itself) and if you live in a subdued environment that only tolerates "clean" non-perfumey perfumes and winces at anything else, you will have to wear this at home alone with the windows taped.
As to the perfume composition, the duality of the name Truth or Dare is cleverly built into the formula overseen by Coty. There is on the one hand the tropical, sweet, nail polish acrid, very indolic (with jasmine and jasmolactones), loud white floral tentacle with a hint of lily; lethal and femme fatale. On the other hand there is the more subdued belly of resinous ingredients, benzoin, emitting a hint of vanilla, amber and the blank canvas of synthetic musks, giving an almost monastic feel due to their subdued effect and low projection. This schizoid personality of Madonna's Truth or Dare seems totally intentional and for that reason I can't but admire the smarts (and dare I say, the guts).
Bottom Line: Madonna wouldn't be shamed to death to be caught wearing her celebrity perfume, which is more than I can say for many other celebrity scents out there. If you are a lover of Fracas, tuberose-gardenia compositions and loud, a tad vulgar-but-out-for-a-good-time perfumes, it's worth a try.
Note: The ad campaign has been deemed too racy for prime-time. Was this really unexpected? Nope...
The sensationalist title is perhaps a bit outre. I can't know for sure what exactly passed between the three ladies at the Perfumed Court, the online decanters who have made a reputation as a credible perfume venue ~if expensive~ for perfume addicts everywhere. But something's changed for sure. In short,the outfit as we knew it is no more.
Instead my information tells me that Patty and Lisa have departed in order to open a NEW decanting business site, while Diane is left to run the previous site as per her sole mention on the "About" page as of this minute ["For over four years Diane offered a huge selection of scents on eBay under her seller name Dragonfly00. Diane distinguished herself by her ability to acquire vintage and rare fragrances. She is also quite an expert on ouds. Diane is located near Atlanta, Georgia."]
The split is official as evidenced by the following email which has reached the inbox of several subscribers to their list:
"Lisa Lawler and Patty White are opening a new perfume sample and decant website - surrendertochance.com - this week! It is under construction as we finish up all the details to make this a wonderful resource for you.
Like us on Facebook to get the latest news on the grand opening.
We have loved bringing perfume to you for all these years at The Perfumed Court and hope very much that we will have the joy of seeing you at our new home."
There was a previous "split" with Fishbone, another collector who used to sell on Ebay, a few years ago. The reasons for that, I'm sure, were of a different nature.
I wish them (all of them) all the best in their new endeavours and I join my prayer with those of hundreds out there that the change of scenery might mean a change in price policies too!
The loss of one member does potentially signal a problem though: As the three among them possessed a vast collection of different bottles each, the convenience of TPC meant covering all bases for almost everything in one place. It will be harder to corner that now.
Just one thing, I can't resist: "Surrender to chance"? Is purchasing decants & vintage samples a game of chance now or a risk like online gambling? I know they didn't ask me, it's none of my business and the name is a registered domain by now, but...
What do you think? What does this piece of news signal for you?
One of the constants I receive in emails is from people who sometimes have difficulty commenting on PerfumeShrine.
It would be practical for all if there were a "sticky" post up, so here we are.
First of all, Perfume Shrine has always been (and will continue to be) an online platform where anyone can comment. You don't need to be in any specific Group or Community, you don't need to have a Blogger account or Facebook or anything, you don't need to be "knowledgeable" about perfume (there are no silly questions or comments in my books) and you don't need to publicize your name or ANY other identifying data about yourself; your privacy is respected at all times.
Comments are non moderated for current posts which are a couple of days "old". Anywhere beyond that time limit however and I need to moderate them, as I try to answer them all.
Any comment is acceptable, be it negative or positive. But obvious spam is pruned. Sorry, if you want to advertise your business or affiliated content, do it openly; it's very annoying for both readers and myself to read pretenses of a comment.
Insults to our readers are also pruned. This is a civilized community and we can agree to disagree with dignity & respect.
So ....what do you need in order to comment successfully? If you want the official Google help, hit this link and read for yourself (with pics). Otherwise read on.
IN ORDER TO COMMENT click on the "Comments" link AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST you want to answer/comment to. The Comments link is right besides the "Posted by PerfumeShrine at so & so day" (which serves as the Permalink of any given post) and just over the Labels/Tags.
Clicking the Comments link opens a box space BELOW the post (so scroll), integrated through the Blogger platform which controls it.
Sometimes Blogger acts funny. It's not my fault, I swear. Give it a couple of minutes and try again, please. Good things come to those who wait.
When you have the Comment window in front of you, there's a box to write in:
You see a box where you can type your comment. Under it there is a word verification code to type to prove you're not a robot spammer. (I had resisted this -annoying to some- function for very long, until one day I got about 46 spam comments which I had to manually delete one by one...).
If you have trouble "getting" the words, try again or click on the "soundbox" icon to hear them instead.
Under this word verification there is a "Choose an Identity" menu. The menu has as first option a "Google account" which takes you into a Blogger signing in page. This function allows your comment to have your own Blogger identity and link, which is useful if -say- you want to make people aware of your own blog! HOWEVER this is where most people trying to comment stumble: they just don't know what happened and they got redirected to what looks like this! They think they're comment is lost forever and resign (Shame on Blogger for not explaining in detail). Or perhaps they don't desire to sign in as a Blogger user this time or don't want to register on Blogger at all!
This is where the OTHER options (apart from option 1 "Google Account") come in.
Option 2:
"Open ID" which allows Livejournal, Wordpress, Typepad and AIM users to comment linking their own data/pages/blogs from these other, non-Blogger platforms. Cool!
Option 3:
You choose a Name/Alias. This may include an external URL to your site (a blog, a Facebook account, your Twitter handle, whatever you want). Again, hit Publish after you're done; you should see your comment published right away.
Last but not least... Option 4: the Anonymous option at the very bottom. Just click that Anon option, type your vitriol (just kidding!) and hit Publish. Again, you will see your comment published right away, unless it's for an older post in which case I need to moderate it first.
You can Preview you comment at all times and edit yourself to your heart's content.
With the Nest/Threaded format, you can also REPLY under anyone's comment and pursue the conversation. It should look a bit like this.
I hope I have answered that pesky question that crops up so frequently and have enlightened you satisfactorily. If you have any further problems, please don't hesitate to let me know by email using CONTACT (perfumeshrine AT yahoo dot com)
Cast your eye back to the days when you were a kid in a floral print sundress, pig-tails hanging down the sides of your face, flowers pinned carefully on the hair by an older sister or attentive mother, and selling lemonade off a kiosk outside your school or terraced porch to amass money for summer camp (or something along those lines). I hear this gets done a lot in America. I can only tell you that I hadn't had any of those experiences, but lemonade drinking I did as a kid. A lot. It was the official drink of summer (along with sour cherry juice which is just as delicious, if not more) and gulping it down, all thirsty after a run in the fields cutting off wild roses & poppies or a swim in the sea, was one of the major joys of careless late spring and summer days. Perhaps there's something of that ~childhood-reminiscent, innocent and eager about it all~ that is so very refreshing and uplifting when we encounter a citrusy smell. Perhaps that's also why perfume companies are sure to bring forth a slew of citrusy colognes and fragrances into the market with the regularity of a Swiss clock, each spring as soon as the caterpillars turn into butterflies. There's just something optimistic, open and joyous about them, isn't there. Which is where L’Eau de Chloé comes in; from its frozen lemonade top note into its rosewater heart and down to its cooling, mossy base, it's an improvement on the previous Chloe edition* and a scent which instantly puts a smile on my face, even if it doesn't really mesh with my style, having no dark nor serious intentions.
Perfume impressions and formula structuring
Almairac used the transparent, luminous and at the same time lightly sweet and delectable natural note of rosewater (a distillate from rose petals) in L’Eau de Chloé to counterpoint and at the same time accent, via the common elements, the tart lemonade opening and the lemony magnolia blossom in the core. What was less easy to accomplish was how to stabilize it into a formula that would retain structure. The perfumer opted thus for a mossy-musky base accord which simmers with the angular, lightly bitter beauty of chypre via patchouli and woody ambers (ambrox). The fragrance belongs in the genre of Versace Versence or a modernised/watered down Coriandre by Jean Couturier.
The effect is that of a fizzy, sparkling, tingling the nose grapefruit and citron opening, vivid, spicy and refreshing at the same time with the gusto of carbonated fizz drinks bursting on your face which is prolonged into the proceedings. The peppery, crisp freshness evolves into the bold rosy heart of L’Eau de Chloé, balanced between powdery-minty and retro; non obtrusive for casual day wear, but with enough presence to uphold itself throughout a romantic afternoon. It's because of this that the fragrance projects more as a feminine than a citrusy unisex, which might create its own little problems (i.e. usually unisex citruses are the best). The mossy, patchouli-trailing with a warm, inviting "clean musk" vibe about it is discreet and rather short-lived (as is natural for the genre) and I would definitely prefer it to be darker and more sinister, but the fragrance overall serves as a reminder that small miracles are what we're thankful for these days.
Advertising images L’Eau de Chloé utilizes the familiar girl in a field of grass imagery in its advertising, first used by Balmain's classic Vent Vert (which did have something very meadow-like about it!) and perpetuated into recent releases; I'm reminding of Daisy Eau So Fresh by Marc Jacobs for instance. The young sprite is mythologically loaded, reminiscent of nubile teenagers in Greek classical myth deflowered by philandering gods, and it remains a feminist concern thanks to its sheer helplessness (who will hear your cries in the distance?). But perhaps we're injecting too much into it. Perhaps just rolling on a field on a warm, sunny day is a joy into itself and in this land of perfume fantasy all the big bad wolves are programmatically kept at bay or exitinguished with a squirt of a well chosen perfume sprayer. It's a thought...
Notes for L'Eau de Chloé: lemon, peach, violet, natural rosewater, patchouli, cedar.
Available from major department stores.
*NB: I'm hereby referring to the screechy laundry-detergent like Chloé Eau de Parfum by Chloé (2008) and not the excellent, violet-tinged nostalgic powdery fragrance Love, Chloé.
Model: Camille Rowe-Pourcheresse. Shot by Mario Sorenti, Music: Lissy Trullie / Ready for the floor. More at www.chloe.com/eau
Painting by Greek painter Nikiforos Lytras, The Kiss.
~You let yourself be impressed by that sailor with the pierced ear?
~But no...
Caïn to Pandora Groosvenore (nicknamed "bijou romantique" by said sailor) in Hugo Pratt's La ballata del mare salato/ La ballade de la mer salee comics book starring Corto Maltese
The French have a saying "le parfum bijou" denoting both the literal sense (a perfume carried in a jewel receptible) and the metaphorical (a fragrance that adorns and highlights the beauty of its wearer). Bijou Romantique by Etat Libre d'Orange comes with little of the irreverence that the French brand exhibits and plenty of the beautyfying factor. I'd call it féérique myself (fairy-like, fairy-made). It's delicate, lovely, and oddly savoury, breaking the impression we have of oriental gourmand (i.e. dessert-like) perfumes into tiny slivers, much as it was done with Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu, their other new release for 2012. Bijou Romantique stops just short of being "skanky" or "dirty" (in a good way) -see Amaranthine by Penhaligon's- offering a deceptive "bombshell" fragrance for those women (and the adventurous men sharing it) who demand that their perfume acts as morale boosting for those approaching them. An appeal as timeless as the beauty whose virtue has a "price far above rubies", a Scriptures phrase that serves as the motto for the company.
Composed by perfumer Mathilde Bijaoui it's no wonder; it was Mathilde who signed the critically acclaimed Tilda Swinton Like This, you see, and she's also the composer of that controversial ~but eminently interesting~ accord of fig and caviar in Thierry Mugler's Womanity.
With Bijou Romantique Bijaoui offers a nuanced composition that hovers on the precipice between savory and sweet, rich and satisfying, exploiting the subtle chocolate-like facets of iris and vetiver and contrasting them with the natural creaminess of vanilla and benzoin resin with a fresh lemony top note. Laboratoire Mane’s captive Evee ® molecule bridges the gap between the sweet elements and the soft rosy spices. As Bijaoui explains herself in an interview on French TV: "My luck at Mane is to have an important team of researchers constantly developing new molecules and finalizing new extraction techniques. Thanks to their extraction technique called "Jungle Essence" we perfumers at Mane, were able to create a new olfactory family, the sweet/savory family. The Jungle Essence technology allowed us to extract scents never extracted before: fig and caviar. Jungle Essence offers new possibilities, new scents, using ingredients non extractable through conventional methods. (nuts, coconut…) The Jungle Essence process produces a natural extract. This extract can be directly used in perfumed or flavoured compositions."
In Bijou Romantique the proceedings take on a darker, more complex character in the main plot, thanks to the inclusion of a musky-woody background where the sweet-liquorice note of patchouli is clearly detectable. Patchouli is of course a beloved niche fragrances element, coming back from the hippie 1960s with a vengeance, but in contrast to Nobril Immense by the same company where it's too potent, too sweet, here it's nuanced with the protagonist: the ripe fruity note of tropical ylang ylang and the soft rosy nuance of pink pepper.
Tender, inviting and multi-facetted, Bijou Romantique is like a nostalgic cameo pinned on the edge of a low neckline. Farewell Pandora!
The transparency and cozy gourmand factor of Bijou Romantique is sure to entice those who liked The Different Company's Oriental Lounge or Fendi's discontinued (but marvellous) Theorema and might be of interest for anyone exploring niche gourmand perfumes (such as the Micallef line Les Notes Gourmandes or those by Les Néréides)
A shame the appearence is betraying a fragrance so much. The gorgeous electric-car charger looking bottle (or a crystal baton, if you prefer) encased in a leather pouch in beige tones is far sleeker and classier than the soapy, synthetic and rather dull floral musk hiding inside the container. The name and commercial hinted at some tryst conducted in the aftermath of a spring shower that necessitated the wearing of a Burberry trenchcoat. The fragrance however is akin to sprikling yourself in sudsy water rather than bodily fluids...
Burberry Body is rather potent, warm and woody, taking in mind the constraints of both the soapy and musky floral genre (which usually tend to lean towards coolish), but doesn't really ever become a true "skin scent" in the sense of mimicking anyone's warm, living skin -or the scent equivalent of invoking the aftermath of intimate action between lovers. It's death by a hundred little guest soaps with rosy wrapping!The chunk of Cashmeran in the base doesn't aid much.
Nor is the composition a gorgeous true floral musk the way Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her and its many different fragrance versions are or Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker. The effect in Body remains at all times a bit aloof, without much of the promised absinthe or the powderiness of iris compositions, the soap a little detached from the nooks and cranes it's supposed to lather up to. The sudsy floral part of Penhaligon's Castile is there, but whereas in Castile this aided the radiance of what is essentially a programmatically "clean" fragrance with lots of orange blossom, in Burberry Body we have a similar phenomenon as in the newer version of Chloé; the aliphatic aldehydes project sharp, loud and fatty, laundry-detergent reminiscent, with a hint of lactonic peach and vanilla under the rosiness, and tend to remind you of a chemical soup rather than the ouverture to some floral symphony of yore. Furthermore Body is absolutely linear and guaranteed not to offend anyone; usually that's a seal of lack of character.
I realise that "clean" and "shower fresh" are loaded and important terms in fragrance marketing, that one has to pick an unobtrusive scent for the office at times and there is a huge segment of the population who is after the perfect "just out of the shower" fragrance anyway, but I'm afraid that this is not it; their worthy goal is better served elsewhere. [Explore our Soapy Fragrances and Musky Fragrances articles linked, if you like].
Notes for Burberry Body: absinthe, peach, freesia, rose absolute, iris, sandalwood, woody cashmeran, musk, vanilla, amber.
Photo: Andrian Wilson, I need you more than you need me.
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