Perfumery Materials: Neroli, Petit Grain, Orange Blossom, Bigarade

The Mediterranean basin could be described as one giant orangery during spring: the green trees, called bigaradiers, with their dense foliage of shiny leaves are seen sprouting small white blossoms; first, closed like Q-tips and then bursting into an orgy of fragrant flowers, emitting a sweet, yet delicate and fresh fragrance that travels long and far. These individual orangey trees belong in a unique order, bearing fruit still while at the same time blossoming! But you'd be hard-pressed to cut and eat that fruit; the orange-toned rind hides a very bitter flesh which is perfect however for proper marmelade or "spoon sweets". And they only turn their characteristic bright colour in the temperate Mediterranean climate: Spain, Greece, and also...California. Those growing in tropical climates, such as Florida or India or Ghana retain a yellow-greenish tinge.



The amazing tree which produces those wonders of nature is citrus aurantium var. amara (or bigaradia), commonly referred to as "bitter orange tree" (Also known as "Seville orange tree" due to the fact that the romantic city by the river is choke-full of them and because it was the centre of Moorish culture when the trees were first brought into the region from Arabia in the 9th century AD). Perfumers call it by another name, grosser but more accurate in terms of "giving": the pig of perfumery. Every part of this tree gives a lovely material.

The methods which produce different materials: neroli, orange blossom absolute, biagarade, petit-grain

David Seth Moltz, the nose behind D.S. & Durga, the Brooklyn-based perfume company, explains it well: Cold-pressing the fruit peel yields bigarade, the essential oil of the bitter orange; distilling the twigs gives you petitgrain (keep in mind that the same method gives petit-grain from other citrus trees such as lemon petit-grain, lime petit-grain etc); and the orange blossoms provide you with neroli (neroli comes from steam distillation of the flowers) while the same flowers can yield orange blossom absolute when treated with solvents to extract their essence. Distillation is usually carried out in such a way that 1 liter(1 kg) of distillation water (orange flower water) is obtained per 1 kilogram of charged orange flowers. This method incidentally, yields on the average about 1 gram of neroli oil.
That's not all, though: Distill the leaves, twigs and flowers together and you have "petitgrain sur le fleur." But it's still not over yet: Petitgrain water absolute or eau de brouts is the equivalent of orange flower water absolute and is obtained as a by-product from petitgrain bigarade oil. It enhances the 'naturalness' of several other fragrances, e.g. jasmine, neroli, ylang-ylang and gardenia.

"This one tree," Mr. Moltz explains, "gives you a range of citrus, wood, flower and all that lies in between—clean, fresh, dark, spicy." It is, in other words, a tree worthy of obsession! [1]


The differences in scent between the materials
Neroli has a sharper, more delicate aroma with a pleasantly bitter top note, a floral, herbal, green body and a floral, orange flower dry-out. It's lighter than the more overtly feminine orange blossom absolute which is more indolic and lusher, heavy and rich, warm, but also delicate and fresh, long-lasting odour, closely resembling the fragrance of fresh bitter orange blossoms. Its fragrance is not unlike that of jasmine, less intensely floral, but with a greater freshness. Petit grain is more bitter and has a masculine edge. And of course bigarade is the very flavour of morning marmelade.

List of fragrances to guide your nose through the raw materials

To experience bigarade the simplest means is to grab a jar of Bonne Maman marmelade and dip your nose and inhale: the sweetness cannot cut too much on the bitterness which leaves an almost sour aftertaste, resulting into an experience far removed from the more prosaic sweet orange or strawberry jam. Another, more perfume-oriented means would be to grab a bottle of Cologne Bigarade by Frederic Malle (composed by Jean Claude Ellena who excels into that sort of Mediterranean compositions) or his more concentrated and rubbery version with touches of cumin, Bigarade Concentree. Another alternative would be Creed's Citrus Bigarrade [sic].

Neroli has a romantic tale attached to its name: "In the 17th century, the princess of Nerola, Italy, used orange blossom to perfume her stationary, baths and, most famously, her gloves. As she gestured to her courtiers and lovers, a gentle wake of blossom must have trailed her hands. Now, neroli can be found in any number of perfumes, soaps and, according to myth, the secret recipe for Coca-Cola! It is the very essence of spring—that first bloom that promises sun and romance. And like romance, in the hands of a master perfumer, it can be heady or hesitating, sophisticated or innocent, sweet or dangerous. Mr. Moltz describes pure neroli as being "prim and proper." He likes to "dirty it up" with flowers that bring out neroli's wet and sexy vibe. [1] The major chemical components of neroli bigarade oil are: linalool, limonene, linalyl acetate, nerolidol, geraniol, and methyl anthranilate. Extraction of flowers with supercritical CO2 yields a neroli bigarade oil much richer in linalyl acetate (23%) than neroli oil obtained by water distillation. The content of methyl anthranilate (1%) is also significantly higher [2].
If you want to experience a soliflore neroli fragrance, try Annick Goutal's Néroli, a Parisian take on the Med idea . "The idea for Néroli was a warm wind blowing through a blooming orange grove," says Camille Goutal, the creative director after Annick's passing. "It was also inspired by a childhood memory: my uncle spent his holidays in Tunisia and would bring me back bouquets of orange flowers. Of course the main ingredient is the neroli, freshened by the petitgrain Paraguay (which is also tender and green) and petitgrain citronnier. The cypress and the galbanum bring a subtle woody note."
Chloé offers Eau de Fleurs Neroli for spring and summer, a fragrance which mixes an aromatic top with rosemary and clary sage with "clean" upbeat, contemporary notes of peony and white musk.

To get a good dosage of petit-grain, look no further than Miller Harris and Le Petit Grain. A unisex fragrance which brings on a garland of aromatics to boost the angular facets of the material, such as angelica root, tarragon, thyme and lavender. Refreshing due to its briskness, but not without its own depths thanks to patchouli and moss.


For orange blossom the choices are endless. You can check out several on our "Orange Blossom series" classified according to mood. But to recap some of the more characteristic:

Perhaps the loveliest and truest soliflore orange blossom rendition is L'Artisan's original Fleur d'Oranger harvest edition. Fresh, crystalline, projecting with needle-point precision but never too sharp, its melodious song is like a kiss on the lips from someone one had long longed for. The major drawback is it cost an arm & a leg and it was a one-time wonder, as the subsequent reissue from a few seasons ago is a little bit different.

Jo Malone's Orange Blossom cologne takes on a crisp but feminine interpretation of the flowers of the bitter orange tree: the composition is flanked by lemongrass and clementine oils on top (so that the fragrance retains a live-like freshness) and by lily and lilac notes on the bottom to soften and feminise it.

On the contrary Prada's Infusion de Fleurs d'Oranger [full review here] apart from a brief departure of orange flowers and neroli segues on into soapier arpegios with Serenolide (a synthetic musk), therefore being a less representative candidate.

Le Labo is one brand which features orange blossom at the heart of three of their fragrances: Fleur D'Oranger 27, (feminine with jasmine and sunny bergamot); Neroli 36, a playful mix of watermelon, salt, rose, mandarin and musk; and in Tubereuse 40, vibrating with the dynamism of tuberose, cedar, mimosa and petitgrain.

But perhaps the most majestic orange blossom absolute of them all is Fleurs D'Oranger by Serge Lutens. Far from being an orange blossom soliflore as its name suggests, this is a fragrance as beguiling as Salome dancing the dance of the seven veils. Upon each revelation, the anticipation heightens till the next one. The initial stage is one of soft orange blossom, in the words of Serge, the "strengthening of a breeze", hidding the more mysterious, invested interests in the background, emerging slowly like shadows from an orchard which suns itself somewhere off the Mediterranean coast. The accomplice in this is tuberose and its strange, wicked angularity creeps in beneath the shadows. But despite the fragrance's lushness and drama, it dries down to a delicate sweetness that resembles honeyed woman's skin; discreet and very, very sensual.

Last but not least the etymology is also interesting and quite mixed-up: The word orange (EN and FR), naranja (ES), arancia (IT) are all derived from the Persian naranj which in the contrary means bitter orange ("νεράτζι" i.e. nerantzi, in Greek), the place where the bitter variety of the tree comes from. The Iranians call oranges 'portoghal' which resembles the Greek word for sweet oranges, πορτοκάλι; to my knowledge, only in Greek among European languages has the Persian distinction been maintained. But how come the Greek call orange the ...Portugeuse fruit? (That's what the name means) It's because the Portugeuse traders brought sweet oranges into the Mediterranean basin from China centuries after the bitter oranges were brought to these shores...



[1] Ref. Wall Street Journal
[2]Ref. White Lotus Aromatics


Collage photo via beauty maverick. Photo of bitter orange tree by CorinthianGulf/flickr

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia: fragrance review

There is nothing more early April-like than the smell of bitter orange trees blossoming, their waxy white petals infiltrating the glossy green of the leaves and some fruit still hanging from the branches, like a reminder of what has been already accomplished.


Guerlain captured the ethereal vapors of steam off these delicate, ravishing blossoms and married them to a pre-emptying summer jasmine (middle-ground indolic) and the faint whiff of cool frankincense burning inside a Greek Orthodox church preparing for the country's most devout celebration: Easter. The citrusy aspects of frankincense compliment the fruitier aspects of neroli. Musk in the form of synthetic Cashmeran is anchoring the effect on skin. Guerlain's Flora Nerolia (a part of the original line up in the Aqua Allegoria line in 2000 composed by perfumer Mathilde Laurent) is like a snapshot of late Lent in Greece and for that reason is absolutely precious to me.

Notes for Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia:
neroli and petitgrain (citrus leaves & twigs) in the top, and jasmine and orange blossom in the heart. Frankincense for the base.

Lamentably discontinued (much like the rest of the original line-up composed by Mathilde Laurent) with the exception of Herba Fresca and Pamplune, Flora Nerolia can be sometimes found on Ebay.
The history, notes and short reviews of all the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria scents can be found on this link. 

Background on the Photo (by anomieus/flickr):
As far back as the time of the dowager empress Wilhelmine Amalie an orangery garden was laid out at Schönbrunn which included a hothouse for overwintering bitter orange trees. In 1754 Franz I Stephan instigated the building of the Orangery by Nicola Pacassi, probably to designs by Nicolas Jadot. One hundred and eighty-nine metres long and ten metres wide, the Schönbrunn Orangery is one of the two largest Baroque orangeries in the world, the other being at Versailles. The south façade is articulated by an alternating series of large and smaller apertures with rusticated pilasters decorated with masks. The interior has a rhythmic sequence of shallow vaults and is heated by a hypocaust system. The Orangery served not only as the winter quarters for citrus trees and other potted plants but was also a winter garden used for imperial court festivities. Joseph II was especially fond of holding celebrations in the Orangery with festively-decorated banqueting tables, ranks of flowering plants and illuminations in the citrus trees. During a winter festivity in 1786 Mozart conducted his Singspiel "The Impresario" here.
The rear part of the Orangery is still used in its original function, while the front section, which has been renovated, is used for events such as the Schönbrunn Palace Concert series.

Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille: fragrance review

As the cooler months draw to an end I have a faint pang of nostalgia on fragrances which will be rather difficult to bring out in the heat of summer due to either their density that feels like a warm blanket that obscures light when playing on the bed as a kid, or due to their characteristic warm bouquet that feels at home only beside curduroy jackets and black & tan riding boots. Tom Ford's Private Blend Tobacco Vanille checks both boxes in question and, if the female reception of this rather unisex vanilla fragrance is any indication, some more figurative boxes as well. With my anticipation for Lavender Palm building, I returned to this deep and sweet scent for a re-introduction now that woolens are slowly coming off.

Part of the luxurious Private Blend by Tom Ford line which comprises 12 fragrances (like Champaca Absolute, Noir de Noir, Tuscan Leather, Japon Noir, Arabian Wood, Bois Marocain, Italian Cypress, Azure Lime, Neroli Portofino, Oud Wood, and the now discontinued Velvet Gardenia etc), Tobacco Vanille as its name suggests is an oriental; suave, smoldering and quite smooth. Its salient characteristic is the unguous fall of a rich tobacco bouquet into the creamy, cocoa butter-like vanilla with unexpected accents of dried fruits. The sweetness is not accountable to the vanilla though, but to the honey note that good pipe tobacco often displays.

Indeed for a while one loses the tobacco pouch for the honeyed-drenched cream pudding being served. But the two do co-exist and the dried fruits accents is reminiscent of the Lutensian school of thought, easily. Or of Coco by Chanel, the original spicy one, with its inclusion of a cocoa note amidst it all; perhaps of the mood of Dior's Hypnotic Poison (the poison scaled down considerably in Tom's version, like in the Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle), or, if one is being mean, of rootbeer float. I seem to detect an almond note too, which is a classic but delicious pairing with vanillas. Indeed Tobacco Vanille takes on gourmand aspects that go beyond a simple cookie vanilla, built on complex notes that end up smelling like two voices singing in musical thirds; harmony... Up close, sniffing on the wrist, Tobacco Vanille can take an ash-tray note, while a little space between it and one's nose reveals a more sultry sillage that is rich and tempting. This is one reason why this is a perfume that I do not recommend spraying on one's clothes; I suspect the result by the end of the day might get a little stale.

Nevertheless, I can't seem to personally enthuse on Tobacco Vanille too much, for what is worth, due to its rather excessive sweetness. I prefer my vanillas drier, somewhat more powdery, and my tobacco given a palm-on-sweaty-thigh-rolling-it vibe reminiscent of Havana and Habanita. But that's just me, don't let it stop you. Tobacco Vanille is one of Tom Ford's most popular fragrances and a must-try for vanilla or tobacco lovers everywhere. Plus, it's marketed as a unisex (you have to enjoy sweet scents on men, though, to appreciate it) and it lasts very long.

Notes for Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille:
Spicy note, aromatic note, tobacco, tonka bean, tobacco flower, tobacco leaf, dried fruit, vanilla, cocoa, tree sap.

Private Blend Tobacco Vanille by Tom Ford comes as Eau de Parfum (1.7oz, 3.4oz and 8.3oz sizes), available at select points of sale such as Harrods, Neiman Marcus, Nordstorm.

Picture of Demi Moore smoking a cigar, originally printed on Cigar Aficionado Magazine.

50 Cent Drops 50 Scent: Perfume Parody

You always wanted some ghetto-blasting perfume to just break through all the noses held up high and the pretencious blurb on "serious" publications? Well, here we are providing some laughs as well courtesy of 50 Cent and his humorous take on Scent...
50 Scent emits "the dangerous aroma of a freshly fired 9 milimeter semiautomatic handgun", the bling-tastic bouquet of a burlap sack stuffed with $100 bills" plus the sine qua non "audaciously naughty whiff of skanky ghetto gold-digger". To be slathered on "those unsightly drive-by scars to make old wounds sizzle with brutish sensuality". Hilarious!
A project fit for Dish-au-Four (the hip new French recipe!) no doubt.


Click the pic to enlarge.

Credit: Humor Gazette

Laboratorio Olfattivo Esvedra: new fragrance by Pierre Guillaume

News fresh from Esxence, Italy, where the artistic exhibition for niche perfumery is taking place as we speak: Talented perfumer Pierre Gauillaume, well known for his "numerical" personal line Parfumerie Générale (established in 2002), and author of the Huitième Art project, created a new opus, called Esvedra, under the Laboratorio Olfattivo aegis.(An Italian niche line, promisingly established in 2009 with the motto “emotional experiences that come to life through our sense of smell").

The name Esvedra derives from within the geographical confines of the Mediterranean sea: Es Vedrà is a Balearic island a mere 2 km off the western coast of the cosmopolitan isle of Ibiza, in the area of Cala d'Hort. The island is a nature reserve, comprised almost solely of limestone, yet considered of a significant magnetic energy in folk lore. Let's not forget that for centuries the western edge of the Mediterranean was considered the end of the world and that sea tales concerning its many maritime wonders captured the imaginations of poets (producing the Odyssey, the Aeneid) and common folk alike.

The olfactory focus is vetiver, but Pierre proposes a new take, as he says: "It's an irregular vetiver, fractalized which expresses a magnetic green facet, sensual and luminous with accents of lemon petit-grain and coriander leaves". He envisioned it as a perfume that proposes a different structure than the classical top-middle-base notes pyramid, as all of the ingredients are truly contained within the centre of the composition. You could call it linear I guess or core-focused.

Notes for Laborattorio Olfattivo Esvedra: Nevenolide, vetiver, petit-grain from lemon trees, coriander leaves, musk.

Esvedra will be available in Eau de Parfum concentration (12%) in 100ml bottles soon. To buy when available watch this space.

Es Vedra picture at sunset via wikimedia commons

thanks to extrait.it for the in situ reportage

Tauer Perfumes Zeta: fragrance review & draw

Andy Tauer, enfant gaté of the niche universe, and deservingly so, excells in three things in his fragrant sonatas: hesperidia, rose and resinous, hazy vapors smelling of earth and dust. Getting two out of three in his upcoming fragrance Zeta isn't half bad. After all, how could a letter named after the Greek alphabet be bad in my world? In fact Zeta hints at the beloved honeyed Tauerade (the base that permeates most of Andy's perfumes) and will therefore appeal even to those who are not on a first-name basis with either hesperidia or roses. But even non-fans should give at least a cursory sniff to Zeta because it's truly very appealing, an ode to summer, an elegy of sensuous pleasures.

Tauer wrote a haiku to preface the fragrance:
"Linden shade in June
Sweet rose petals and the light
of Syracusa"

Because of this Italian reference and of the Greek letter in the name, I like to evoke Grecani music in my mind: that is songs of the Griko minority (Italians of Greek extraction, going back to the 8th century BC when the island of Sicily and Southern Italy were colonised), a mix of the two Mediterranean languages, κατωϊταλιώτικα, rolling on the tongue with their richness of vowels. So does the perfume, bathed in the warm light reflected on ochre and sienna stucco walls...

Zeta may come as a surprise to those reading that it's built on citrus notes (bergamot, lemon and mandarin), as it is above all s-o-f-t. Not a sharp, pinching, screechy note in sight, no sourness either, a concern sometimes with fragrance including roses. After all, Andy explored the more high-pitched notes in Un Carillon pour in Ange, where he mollified lily of the valley into submission, exhaling its best with a touch of melancholy. Zeta on the contrary is a muted, soft, melding fragrance, tender like cats paws and happy like producing a smile on a newborn's face.

The linden blossom extract is a CO2 product, ensuring a high quality essence. The fragrance is almost flavoured by the linden, reminiscing me of edible linden or rose honey I used to buy when galivanting on the slopes of Zakinthos island in the Ionian Sea, rather than merely the delightful blossoms on the tree. The balance between sweet and citric is beautifully played: Zeta keeps it steady and nice without veering into sugary. It also doesn't produce any pee notes in my skin, as some honeyed fragrances are accused to, sometimes.

The plushness of the rose essence here exhibits both aspects of the natural flower: the citrusy fruitiness nuance of a mandarin compote, but also a greener nuance, closer to neroli or geranium. Rose by its nature comprises hundreds of molecules in its essence, presenting such diverging facets as leomngrass, artichoke or lychee. Flanked by orange blossom absolute, the lushness is self-evident: The honeyed note of the latter invests the former in a bath of light; like opening the French windows on a bright summer afternoon and letting the sunshine come make love to you like a Mediterranean lover.
The fragrance also includes notes of ylang-ylang (subtle, not all-out-tropical) and the all inviting base of orris, sandalwood and vanilla: Almost a blatant come hither! But still, the mood is happy and tender, never poseur. If you have sampled his Une Rose Chyprée or Cologne du Maghreb, you know what I'm talking about. The embrace is billowy-silky, lightly musky, somewhat dusty and sweetly milky, full of expensive raw materials: Zeta not only feels natural, it feels luxurious and it surely must be in formula to compound terms. This is something that cannot always be said for fragrances in current production and for that reason you should definitely sample it while current batches last; next year might bring changes to the raw materials that might slightly shift it.
Colour me impressed.

I have 3 deluxe sample sprayers to send to lucky winners. State in the comments what impresses you about Tauer's perfumes or what does not and what you'd like to see in his next fragrance.

Notes for Tauer Perfumes Zeta: lemon, bergamot, sweet orange, ylang, orange blossom absolute, neroli, linden blossom, rose, orris, sandalwood and vanilla.



Zeta will be available in mid-April 2011. Zeta forms part of the "Collectibles": low volume perfumery, limited by the availability of raw materials that may change from year to year, but not limited edition.
This concept allows Andy to create and present perfumes that he otherwise could not. The Collectibles will be housed in the classic pentagonal 50ml bottle but in green glass with a silver label. More info soon on Tauer Perfumes.

Picture of Sicilian paysage via Ezu/flickr (some rights reserved)
Disclosure: I was sent the sample vials by the manufacturer.

Guerlain Rouge Automatique lipstick: a Nostalgic Dip into Perfume Names Archives

It's fascinating to see what a historic perfume house like Guerlain can do with archived names. In this case, they're creating a covetable triumvirate: the brand, the perfume names, the new lipstick: with Guerlain Rouge Automatique the house revives many of its fragrance names into lipstick formulae encased into a small jewel for the purse; a lipstick into a retro retractable case that will officially launch in April. The necessity of using old names is of course inescapable: On the one hand, the desire (and the need) to maintain a link with heritage and tradition. In the case of some old perfumes, a necessity in order to keep competitors from using names in the long history of the house. On the other hand the ease of using already copyrighted names, thus bypassing a time and energy consuming task. It's interesting to see that some of the names concern recently discontinued fragrances, so the desire to keep the name running is -hopefully- optimistic.


The story of Rouge Automatique reads like an historian's wet dream:

While searching through the immense Guerlain archives, Olivier Échaudemaison (Guerlain Artistic Director for cosmetics) found a small Art Deco wonder created in 1936 that captured his attention: the original “Rouge Automatique.” Though the legendary lipstick’s craftsmanship and hand finishes were commonplace at the time, the lipstick packaging was a revolution in itself with its single hand push to reveal luxurious color. Olivier now reinterprets Rouge Automatique for the 21st century – re-innovating the piece as the first lipstick without a cap and with an application technique requiring only a single hand.
With “Ne m’oubliez pas” (Forget me not) in 1870, Aimé Guerlain was the first to create the wax lipstick in a gold plated tube – inspired by a cylinder used to mold candles. The new Rouge Automatique builds on this heritage with a lipstick encased in a sleek, structural, gold chamber. Simple, clever and coveted. An elegant accessory steeped in history. And featuring an innovative new formula with a fine, sensual texture that glides over lips to melt on the mouth like second skin…



The collection comprises shades (and names of classical and more modern fragrances) for everyone. [Wherever there is a highlighted link below, I have linked a review of the accompanying perfume]:

Unforgettable Beiges

• 100 Après l’Ondée
• 101 Voilette de Madame
• 102 Ne M’Oubliez Pas
• 103 Chant d’Arômes
• 104 Jicky
• 105 Vol de Nuit

Passionate Reds

• 120 Coque d’Or
• 121 Rouge d’Enfer
• 122 Liù
• 123 Habit Rouge
• 124 Samsara
• 125 Vega

Flamboyant Oranges

• 140 Mitsouko
• 141 Quand Vient l’Eté
• 142 Fleur de Feu
• 143 Nahéma

Loving Pinks

• 160 Bal de Mai
• 161 Cherry Blossom
• 162 Bloom of Rose
• 163 Rose Bengale
• 164 Chamade
• 165 Champs-Elysées
• 166 Shalimar
• 167 Guet-Apens
• 168 L’Heure Bleue

Guerlain Rouge Automatique will be available in April 2011 at $35 at select locations of Saks Fifth Avenue, Neiman Marcus, Nordstrom and at Bergdorf Goodman.

Thanks to Donna/POL for bringing this to my attention. List of numbers & names via temptalia. Inside the Rouge Automatique box pic taken by Evachen212 on twitter. Pic of original 1936 ad via maddyloves

National Toxic Encephalopathy Foundation respond to IFRA opposition

The National Toxic Encephalopathy Foundation (NTEF), at the request of the Nevada Assemblyman who introduced the bill, AB234, has provided the science and legalities regarding the bill.

The fragrance industry is grasping at straws, over the Nevada Bill that addresses indoor barriers under the Americans for Disability Act. (ADA).
The bill entitled "Revises provisions governing places of public Accommodation", expands upon an existing state statute regarding accessibility for disabled residents.
The intent of the bill is to remove all air fresheners, air scented branding, fragrance, candles, etc., to comply with both state and federal laws regarding the ADA. Industry's standard response to any type of impediment to remove fragrance is by referencing Multiple Chemical Sensitivity, which is acknowledged on a case by case basis by various government agencies. The bill is for the protection of those with clearly defined and fully covered disabilities relating to the brain, neurological and respiratory systems. IFRA-NA's letter just muddled through with nothing to prove that their products are indeed not barriers, under the ADA.
The NTEF's response cited numerous independent peer-reviewed studies and government agencies, referencing that these have negative effects, even when used as directed.

The fragrance and air freshening industries, would like the public to think they are safe and fully researched. When in fact they are not required by law to test or list all the ingredients. The public needs to realize that the number of people with hidden/non perceivable disabilities outnumber the more readily identifiable ones.
No disability should ever be denied access to public accommodations.

The full response can be read at NTEF-USA.Org.

National Toxic Encephalopathy Foundation is a 501(c)(3) , non-profit organization
whose core purposes are to provide research, education and services to the growing segment of the population who are adversely affected by everyday chemicals and toxins in our environment. Established in 1998

info via press release

Amouage Library Collection Opus V: fragrance review

People have been complaining about the Library Collection in Amouage comparing it to the other symphonic pieces in the house's portfolio and finding the fragrances (Opus I, II, III and IV) leaner and sparser; ultimately non as satisfying. Beside a full Wagnerian orchestra playing a Gesamtkunstwerk, like Gold or Jubilation 25, anyone would be deemed lacking. But further testing of the opera in the Library Collection confirms a theory I had that this is the "niche" sub-brand within the house (which is already niche enough), focusing on specific raw materials or accords and highlighting specific ideas which are themselves treated in a less complex, less dense manner.

They resemble études, rather than orchestral pieces: Indeed Opus I is a study in bigarade and what it does to lush florals. Opus II is a classic (and therefore somewhat predictable) spicy incense. Opus III is a violet étude, exploring both the confectionary aspects and the greener, leafy facets. I can't say I was impressed enough with Opus IV to retain a vivid impression. Opus V however is another one which investigates in more detail the various aspects of one material: iris/orris this time.

If I were to characterise Opus V, I would say it is a woody floral built on the facets of iris with a coda on agarwood. I can't stress enough that if you are to like Opus V, you have to be simpatico to iris, that strange rhizome note that can smell delicately of upturned earth, dusty old papers, boiled carrots and face powder.
Iris fragrances as compositions, run the gamut: from almost non-existent iris wrapped in a woody embrace with mastic accents, such as in Infusion d'Iris by Prada; to true irises taking on funereal melancholy like Iris Silver Mist by Serge Lutens; to surprising, astounding irises which pair the grey note of iris to the bright note of peach as in legendary Iris Gris by Fath; to calorific, chocolate-laced irises such as Iris Ganache by Guerlain or almond-laced ones such as Iris by Hilde Soliani. Not to mention other fragrances which although not pertaining to be a stand-alone iris, they feature copious amounts of it nevertheless, case of Chanel No.19 or Heure Exquise in point. In short, there's something for anyone in the marketand every niche company has their own. Why? Because "orris butter", the concentrated iris rhizome produced the traditional way, macerated for a long time, three years at least, but modern procedures have cut down that interval in the production, resulting in only three-months maceration time.

Opus V by Amouage opens on a lightly metallic, almost boozy note of silvery iris. It feels like sipping gin & tonic under a crepuscular sky with the uncertain temperatures of an April evening. Not particularly dry nor sweetened by other notes, it stages the scene for its expressive range in the next stage. Soon perfumer Jacques Cavallier flanks the composition with woodier notes, subtle, only slightly bitter (agarwood is mentioned, but I suspect some cedar and Iso-E Super as well), with underpinnings of suede, a soft mantle over delicate shoulders. Although the introduction wasn't sweet, as time passes a small subfacet of sweetness emerges, very mollified, without powdery aspects, just to annul the funereal aspects of iris. Indeed anyone who has been scared off by Iris Silver Mist will find a tamer, more friendly iris in Opus V and one which projects at a lower scale. The progression is seamless and feels natural, without the classical pyramidal structure. The lasting power is satisfactory, although the sillage is much lower than many of the other Amouage fragrances which announce their presence in no uncertain terms. If you were waiting for a typical Amouage, you might be advised to look in the main line of the house, because you won't find it here. Opus V is rather intimate and should be enjoyed in moments of a certain introspection or close quarters at the very least for it to highlight its best qualities.
Even though I find it perfectly pleasing, the inclusion of an iris composition in the line seems rather a compulsive move and for that it leaves me a little apprehensive.

Notes for Amouage Opus V:
Top: Orris absolute, rum
Heart: Orris concrete, rose, jasmine
Base: agarwood, civet, dry wood accord

Opus V will be available for purchase through Amouage and their respective boutiques, as well as online retailers which carry the brand. Amouage have uploaded a very conceptual short film on their site concerning the Library collection (lovely sight). Catch it on the Amouage site.

One deluxe sample sprayer will be given to a lucky reader. Please state in the comments if you like Amouage fragrances, or not, and why. Draw is open till Sunday 27th midnight.

Paining Black Iris by Georgia O'Keefe, 1906.
Disclosure: I was sent an advance sample mini from the company for reviewing purposes.

Evenings with Linda Pilkington

Ormonde Jayne is delighted to host the first of a series of Evenings with Linda Pilkington at the new flagship boutique on Sloane Square’s Pavillion Road. The first evening event will be on Wednesday 30 March at 6pm will be to celebrate Mother’s Day and Linda will be talking about the making and inspiration of Osmanthus and the fruity white flower from China behind this perfect spring fragrance. Linda will be delighted to answer any perfume questions after the talk. The cost of the £15 ticket will be redeemable against purchases made on 30 March and includes a gorgeous Osmanthus goody bag & refreshments.

The newly launched Osmanthus Soap Set which includes two bars of hard milled soap and a bone china dish will also be on display.

To reserve a place, please email boutique2@ormondejayne.com or call Monica on 0207 730 1381

info via press release

Frequent Questions: What's the Perfume Featured in "Single White Female" movie?

Viewers of that 1992 cult little thriller "Single White Female" staring Bridget Fonda and Jennifer Jason Leigh remember the delapidated NYC building, shot to reference the trilogy of apartment-house thrillers by Roman Polanski, and the plot which culminated into an early 1990s phenomenon. Summary? An ad for a roommate brought a stranger into Allison's life. Someone who shares. Someone who cares. Someone who borrows. Someone who steals. Someone who would kill to be her. A clinging, duplicitous psycho roommate all right! Viewers with a perfume interest however have long been perplexed on which perfume is featured in one memorable scene:

Allie brings a housewarming gift to Hedy, the psycho (played by Jennifer Jason Leigh). Upon inspecting her dresser, a bottle catches her eye; she handles the beautiful perfume bottle, sniffs off the top and dabs some on her wrists and neck. Hedy, who had been taking a shower in the adjoining bathroom, walks in on her, immediately perceives the scent in the air and comments on its use. Hedy will then proceed to offer earrings as a thank-you-in-turn gesture to Allie.

Allie:You haven't even been here two weeks and I'm already in your room.
     I was just about to go through your drawers.
Hedy: That smells nice on you.
Allie:I always wanted to try that.
Hedy: Sure, anything you want. Share and share alike.
Allie:I don't really know about that. I'm an only child.

The perfume on the dresser in said scene is in a light blue, cylindrical bottle, made of opaline by the looks of it. Theories on what it might be have abounded on perfume discussion boards for years; it's a recurring question to which no one had a definitive asnwer. Till now.
A freeze-frame on the video or DVD (a common enough practice for "crazied perfumistas") reveals that the bottle is tagged "Moi Même" which means...me, myself. Given the particular context of the film, in which director Barbet Schroeder explores the subjects of what constitutes identity and the implications of identity theft (through subtle and less subtle means pertaining to appearence, comportment and later play-acting), I had assumed it was a made-up perfume prop for the purposes of the film.

The cohabitation continues and things start getting weird. As Allie reunites with her cheating fiance, Sam, Hedy has in the meantime becometoo clinging. She will try to break up the re-united couple ~in an effort to make Allie keep her as a room-mate instead of leaving with her fiance~ by sleeping with him while pretending to be Allie. She uses perfume to sneak up on Sam, aiding to convince him in the dark of the night that she's really Allie.

Hedy:Guys like you don't change. You can't be faithful. And now she'll know.
Sam: She'll know what? That you came up here and pretended to be her?
  What is this hair? You're in her clothes. You're wearing her perfume!

The nuances of "stealing" someone's signature scent, like in that scene in the film, had provided the content for another essay on Perfume Shrine (which can be found in the link). At the time I had written:

"Copying someone's identity in its external manifestations and even their intellectual interests, emulating their fashion sense, their hairstyle, their makeup and colour choices and suddenly adopting the same music sense and book material can feel annoying and a little alarming for the one who is being copied: is it to be taken as a compliment or as an invasion of private space and the right to mark one's own territoty? That last part seems to me to be at the bottom of this particular annoyance. Although we have progressed from the jungle, the jungle hasn't left us: we still need to mark our territoty with the invisible olfactory stain of our id. And we do that with our loved ones and the scents we choose for them as well."

The context of that post still applies, but research has since revealed to me that the perfume in the dresser scene isn't made-up after all. On the contrary.


Two French companies have been producing perfumes by the same name: Desti* of Paris had a Moi Même fragrance launched in 1914 and Cyber, the producer of the semi-eponymous Cybera, launched another by the same name some years later. They're both art-deco scents in similar period-style containers and they would fit the context. The art director must have studied catalogues from antiques auctions or happened upon the beautiful opaline flacon browsing in some antiquerie. Certainly an art-deco bottle matches exceptionally well the art-deco building which is really the third protagonist in the film. What originally seemed random and superficial is revealed to be clever and fully intentional. More than a pretty prop, the signature scent in Single White Female stands as a meaningful and transient metaphor of self.

*In the same year, 1914, the company of Desti of Paris launched another 5 fragrances: Beatrice d'Este, Devinez (=Guess), Lilas, L'Invitation à La Dance and Saphir.

Elizabeth Taylor: 1932-2011

"Something wonderful is about to happen"
~Elizabeth Taylor

The Violet Eyes of Hollywood have closed for eternity this very morning. A breed apart, a tough cookie, a smart entrepreneur with the most successful celebrity scent line of them all and the last of a very different kind of star. May she rest in peace.

pic of Elizabeth Taylor in her iconic role of Cleopatra (1963) via arsaromatica

Sense of Smell: Not as Hard-Wired as we Thought, New Study Shows

"To be a 'nose' you have to practise, just as a pianist plays his scales," said Jean-Pierre Royet, a neuroscientist at the Universite Claude Bernard in Lyon, France, and the main architect of a study published this week in the journal Human Brain Mapping. [...]Previous research had shown that constant training changes the brain activity of musicians and athletes, but no one had investigated whether the same would hold for olfaction, the ability to detect odours. To find out, Royet and colleagues enlisted 28 volunteers, half of them student perfumers, and the other half scent makers with five to 35 years in the business. [...]

"Our findings demonstrate the extraordinary ability of the brain to adapt to environmental demands and reorganise with experience," Royet said by phone.
They also show that "mental imaging of odours develops from daily practice and is not an innate skill," he added."

The very interesting article Super Sense of Smell Not Innate appears on Yahoo News page courtesy of AFP. Sandrine Videault, a New Caledonian perfumer which we have interviewed on these pages and creator of the wondrous Manoumalia is featured in the picture; a studen of E.Roudnitska, who pioneered what scienstists prove today.
Sandrine is pretty as a picture with the frangipani at arm's length, isn't she?

K de Krizia: fragrance review

K de Krizia by Italian designer Krizia is a fragrance like they don't build them anymore: a very classy aldehydic floral fragrance with chypre-green tonalities, composed by revered perfumer Maurice Roucel. Launched in 1980, it has suffered the memory loss that plagues all less-known fragrances: It's largely unsung and few hard-core fans search high and low for it now that it's difficult to come across.

Despite its timeless, graceful and rather sensual arc, I cannot stress enough that in order to savour the complexities and powerful elegance that K de Krizia can offer you, you must like aldehydes in general and, on top of that, old-school compositions featuring them in particular. An unashamed cool customer, it wouldn't feel out of place with a well-cut suit and leather cinched waist. The Louise Brooks bob is optional.

K de Krizia opens with the brisk and razor sharp intensity of those white-light molecules called aldehydes. Mention aldehydes and everyone in a Pavlovian-like motif thinks of Chanel No.5. Certainly the feeling of aldehydic florals has been inextricably tied to memories and whiffs of No.5 for most people. But whereas the style is similar, the treatment is different enough: The peachiness and rosiness of K de Krizia, alongside the greener elements, differs considerably from the jasmine-richness and intense muskiness of Chanel No.5, the former being rather closer to Van Cleef & Arpels First or Balmain's Ivoire or even the chypre greeness aspect of Paloma Picasso than the iconic monstre.
If the opening of K de Krizia is primarily aldehydic, the florals emerge a little later to complicate things with honeyed pollen: rose, carnation, lily of the valley, and not so sweet jasmine (hedione) in an abstract harmony where no note predominates, gaining in deep mossiness as the fragrance dries down. The final stages are almost spicy from the leather, styrax and vetiver notes, and delectably powdery-soapy like only a woman who has used face powder with a fluffy retro pom-pom knows.

Between the different concentrations, the Eau de Parfum is more mellow and floral, while the Eau de Toilette exhibits drier facets and would be perfect on a man as well.
Sadly, K de Krizia has been reformulated for the worse: its rich oakmoss inclusion along with the flowers being rampant necessitated a close shave that cost it its richness, inherent femininity and natural feel of its floral essences.

Notes for K de Krizia:
Top: aldehydes, bergamot, peach, hyacinth, neroli
Middle: carnation, orange blossom, orchid, orris root, jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, rose and narcissus
Base: leather, sandalwood, amber, musk, civet, oakmoss, vanilla, vetiver and styrax.

Krizia pic via facebook

Why the new Chanel Coco Mademoiselle commercial with Keira Knightley in Beige is Ultimately Undewhelming

Chanel has just released their new 2011 commercial for Coco Mademoiselle starring Keira Knightley in what has to be the most bootylicious outfit out there for the brand (evah!) and I'm grumbling with a sense of disappointment. Before you start calling me a picky bitch, hear me out and see if you agree.


The commercial is gloriously saturated in rich, peachy-golden neutrals, echoed through settings, clothes and protagonists' colouring. The Ducati is eye candy. Keira, on whom I never was particularly big, looks gorgeous in sprayed-on beige & black as well, don't get me wrong! Whereas gowns with decolletage and bare arms let her skeletal glory show to much discomfort and to thinspiration for teens (apparently!), a fitted catsuit which hides her ribcage and, on the contrary, puts accent on her meatier parts (those thighs, that butt) suits her just fine. I was about to give a wolf's whistle upon seeing her riding, ass pert on that Ducati motorcycle, director Joe Wright hedonistically shooting it from the back for a brief while~wait, was it three whole seconds?~ but then remembered my XX chromosomes and restrained myself. Lots of guys won't, though, obviously because they don't have a matching set (of either chromosomes or butt cheeks), and that's the whole point: The message is Keira in Chanel has something going on for her, something wild, something sexy! So will -hopefully- every girl she's gifted with it. Perfume after all is largely the fantasy of hanging a Ferrari porte-clefs on your humble Fiat, isn't it?

But haven't we seen that before? Or is that too much teasing makes the heart go butter instead of aflutter? I'm surprised they chose It is a Man's World (interpreted by Joss Stone, yet again!) instead of Wild Thing by The Troggs as the soundtrack: Keira's certainly a wild thing if the full 3:20 minutes are to be taken into account: she makes pretty eyes at the photographer, with whom she has some sort of relationship. She shoots her as herself, the face of Chanel (a bit a la David Bailey) and then she leaves him all...frustrated, shall we say, leaving out the window. Sneaky minx...


But then the song choice does make sense after all, going straight for bull's eye actually: This is Chanel's positioning of Coco Mademoiselle as for the "powerful" young woman, the seductress, the one who yields the power of her appeal over those she meets; to the point that she doesn't actually need them anyway. She onanistically can leave them behind; her power lies within herself. The full commercial, the teasers and interviews which preceeded it said clearly this is Chanel emasculated, a Chanel superwoman, an androgynous figure ~certainly true for Keira's boyish figure, true for Gabrielle Chanel as a young lass too. But we're not dealing with an Amazon; far from it!

To my mind the era of the Glamazon has died alongside Helmut Newton and his photographs of women as mistresses of all they survey. Keira and Coco Mademoiselle are ~let's be honest~ too cute to even entertain the thought that they yield so much power. This is why it was necessary to have Keira pronounce it "not too sweet, not too overpowering, not flowery" in interviews, lying -yes, lying- that she used to wear men's scents blah blah blah....And therein lies the trap: Coco Mademoiselle does exhibit a fragrance structure of pretty & quite sweet flowers atop a rather masculine loud patchouli and vetiver base: a five o'clock shadow shows underneath a checkbone meticulously dusted with Nars Orgasm. Nevertheless, that five o'clock shadow doesn't come home bringing the bacon, doing a real job, taking it like a man. She still relies on tried & true feminine wiles sprinkled with promise and only has the motorcycle and boots to show for toughness. And what's more she proclaims to the whole wide world she's open for business, Coco Mademoiselle having aquired ~through use and abuse~ the inferred message of "come on big guy, I'm here waiting for you to hit on me, all smoky eyed, and martini at hand". Now that Coco Mademoiselle is everywhere, some of the mystique has gone and this new commercial doesn't help much. And nothing of it is Keira's fault. But they had been going for it since a while, so why am I complaining?

The first Keira-Chanel commercial, showing the stylish thief, who burgles through an open window to put on those gorgeous jewels and who then appears in a long red dress at a gala from which she leaves alone, much amused with herself, in my opinion exhibited real style, a sense of feminine independence and a playful desire for adventure. What does this newer one communicate? How to be a cock teaser? Chanel, you've come a long way; hopefully the Ducati doesn't stop here...

What do YOU think?

Perfumery Material: Osmanthus

Osmanthus fragrans (Sweet Osmanthus) or 桂花/ guìhuā in Chinese and金木犀/ Kinmokusei in Japanese is another member of the Oleaceae family (like olive or lilac) and its fresh and highly fragrant aroma is a natural wonder professing a nuanced texture. Also known as "Tea Olive" (because olive is the pre-eminent member of the Oleaceae family) it is the emblem flower of Hangzhou, China. It is especially valued as an additive for tea and other beverages in the Far East where usually the aromatic extract comes from the golden yellow flowers variety. This is because the variant Osmanthus fragrans Lour. var thunbergii has more carotenoids in its chemical make-up which contribute both to the sunnier colouring as well as the enhanced aroma.
The flowers are also used to produce osmanthus-scented jam (called guì huā jiàng)

Osmanthus absolute is an expensive raw material for the perfumer, but worth investing in due to its unique olfactory profile: Highly fragrant and succulent in its peachy-apricoty top note it is nothing short of mouthwatering. The effect of the natural flower is undoubtedly enhanced with a synthesized apricoty creamy note (benzylaldehyde, aldehyde C16, amyl butyrate), giving an almost velours effect. The essence of osmanthus naturally contains cis-jasmone (a white floral note), gamma-decalactone and various delta-lactones (peachy-milky notes) as well as several ionones derivates, which accounts for its violet-like sweetness.

Fragrances featuring a prominent osmanthus note:

Aubusson Desiderade
Aubusson Histoire d'Amour
Ayala Moriel Kinmokusei
Badgley Mischka by Badley Mischka
Bidjan DNA
Calvin Klein Escape
Davidoff Echo for women
Elizabeth Arden Sunflowers
Estee Lauder Beautiful Love
Escada Sunny Frutti
Fendi Theorema
Gap Dream
Givenchy L'Interdit (2003 re-issue)
Gucci Flora
Hermes Osmanthe Yunnan
Hove Tea Olive
Jean Patou 1000
Keiko Mecheri Osmanthus
Kenzo Jungle Le Tigre
Lancome Benghal (travel exclusive)
Marcela Borghese Il Bacio
Michael Kors by Micheal Kors
Narciso Rodriguez Narciso for Her (recreated note)
Nina Ricci Deci Dela
Oleg Cassini Cassini
Ormonde Jayne Osmanthus
Oscar de la Renta Volupte
Parfums d'Empire Osmanthus interdite
Providence Perfumes Osmanthus Oolong
Roger & Gallet Fleurs d'Osmanthus
Serge Lutens Datura Noir
The Different Company Osmanthus
Tous Touch

Ref: Sisido, K.; S. Ktirozumi, K. Utimoto and T. Isida, Fragrant Flower Constituents of Osmanthus fragrans

Photo of Osmanthus fragrans via jam343/flickr (some rights reserved)

The Quest for Long Lost Scents

"For a year I bought up every bottle I could find, and in the end probably collected about 50. The stash lasted me a decade, until 2002, when I had only a half bottle left. I stowed it at the back of my closet, to be opened only when I really needed to remember what my twenties smelled like. In the last few months, I’d been taking out that old, now discolouring, bottle more and more often. On a few nights I wore the ancient skin cream as if it was the most precious lace. It still smelled fine, a bit weak and baking soda-ish, but still nice, although the lotion had separated and quite frankly I felt like a weirdo slathering the stuff on. So we’ll leave the psychological analysis of what my renewed interest in a 19-yearold baby lotion says about my current state of mind for a different day. Best to tell you instead that this week I am in New York City, and I brought the bottle with me, and I have made a hobby of stealing out at lunchtime to various perfume shops, intent on replicating its contents".

Thus describes Mireille Silcoff her memories-loaded baby lotion by Johnson's & Johnson's in an article named "Smell is the Nearest Thing we Have To Bottled Time Travel" at The Ampersand on the National Post. The article includes a New York City touring of perfumeries, such as Aedes de Venustas and CB I Hate Perfume.
The piece will ring several bells for anyone who has stockpiled perfume in a spree to curtail possible shortage and will have you reminiscing about formative smells in your own past. Highly recommended reading.

thanks to 5oaks on POL for bringing it to my attention

Cacharel Eden: fragrance review

Named after the primeval garden of creation, Eden by parfums Cacharel broke new ground back when it launched (1994) "for the first time ever, encompassing the exhilaration of spring with sensuality", or rather the first fruity-semioriental-aquatic. Yes, I know, it sounds like an improbable combination like bacon ice-cream, but it managed to smell enticing nevertheless.

At least it did to me for the first bottle or so. Later I became bored with it and left it aside, never repurchasing. The body lotion I had bulk purchased was very nice and continued to remind me of the scent for a while longer. Imagine the shock and elation it provoked in me when my significant other remembered it when I brought out again a sample of it the other day and casually dabbed my wrists in this succulent fruity number. Memories, like cheap coffee, can come in instant form, after all, it seems! It’s a wonder those catchy innovative ideas like the offerings in the Je me souviens coffret from L’artisan Parfumeur (long discontinued) don’t lure in the buying audiences at a larger scale.


The bottle of the scent designed by Annegret Beier is completely friendly, in jade opaline, curved to fit in the palm of your hand, topped with a little green cap in the spray versions or a silvery boule in splash ones . Beautiful in its functionality.
When Eden first launched there was a big event that set new standards in the risky and costly mega –launches of perfumes: a whole garden recreated full with tropical and aquatic blooms and semi-clad girls in fountains following the cue of the print advertisements. Unfortunately, Eden didn’t sell that well, which incidentally is one of the reasons why it’s featured here today. In order not to lose such a highly covetable name and concept, Parfums Cacharel went on to create one of the first “flankers” of an original perfume, inaugurating a trend that has progressed so rapidly recently it has resulted in a dizzying exercise against Altzheimer's for us perfume lovers: It’s hard to keep up, I can tell you!
The follow up scent (i.e.the flanker) was Eau d’Eden and it is nice enough to warrant a separate review along the way.

Back to the fragrance at hand, Eden, composed by Jean Guichard, opens on tart fruits, namely bergamot, lemon, mandarin, and pineapple alongside melon ( the overuse of Calone was the note du jour of the 90’s after all). A very green smell also makes itself present, mixed with the fruits and the watery notes: it's not a typical fruity, nor is it a typical aquatic nevertheless. In its heart the standard rose-jasmine accord that forms part of most feminine scents is not particularly evident, instead that tree with yellow poms poms, the mimosa, with its sweet sugary, milky smell is the protagonist along with aqueous blossoms like water lily and lotus and a strange anisic component that casts a retro oriental shade on the proceedings. But overall the fruity heart has an element of bubblegum, but the girl popping it is so cute you’d be unfair to chastise her!
The base relies on cedarwood and a hint of patchouli. Sandalwood, vanilla and musk are also featured, although they do not peak as such. That warm, not particularly sweet, rather odly spicy base prompted Luca Turin to liken it to the smell of a wet cashmere sweater, which was later revealed to not be a bad thing. Never thought it were…

The flowers and fruits are happily Serpent-free in their wholesomeness, pre-lapsarian, the garden of Eden safe from the advances of evil for the time being. Even if this is not your thing, Eden does not disappoint: it's a love-it-or-hate-it kind of fragrance, which means it has something going for it. The good sillage and very good longevity are also pluses in my books.

Notes for Cacharel Eden:
Top: Mandarin, orange blossom, water lily, lotus blossom
Middle: Melon, pineapple, violet, mimosa
Base: Patchouli, sandalwood, vanilla, musk.


ads by Psine.net, Hieronymous Bosch Paradise and Hell painting

Eva Mendes: the new face of Thierry Mugler Angel

French beauty house Thierry Mugler, which is relying on itsaccesories and perfumes (operating under the Clarins Group) is perhaps most famous for Angel: a terrifically strong best-seller and a modern classic created almost 20 years ago, in 1992. The company has often changed its "faces" fronting the controversial love-it-or-hate-it juice, including Jerry Hall and Bianca Balti. Now, after Australian actress Naomi Watts, the brand has signed Eva Mendes to replace her in the new Angel campaign.

Mendes, who created lots of press starring nude in Calvin Klein's Secret Obsession perfume ads, [catch the banned commercial with Eva Mendes on this link] is supposed to add a "sultry" twist to the scent according to the official statements by the Mugler company: "While Naomi Watts' ethereal beauty embodied the angelic aspect of the fragrance, Thierry Mugler chose to reignite the enticing and explosive dimensions of the fragrance with the sultry Mendes," Mugler said in a statement.

The fiery Latina is certainly one of the sexiest actresses on the front row nowadays and is sure to bring on new interest in the brand. More news and the upcoming commercials will be available at the official Thierry Mugler site.
Catch some more news & gossip on celebrities fronting perfume campaigns on the New Face section.

Eva Mendes and Angel ad collage via fashionfoiegras.com,