Burberry London for Men: fragrance review

Men’s scents, much like men themselves, face the hard task of convincing us that they are sensitive enough while still being virile. Too much brutishness and they seem like villains in a B-movie, too much sensitivity and they appear wimpy and lame. It’s unfair granted, but there you have it. Recent worthwhile olfactory offerings in this domain have either blundered by being too innovative and butch for their own good (the mediocre sales of Yves Saint Laurent’s M7) or taken the path of least resistance becoming scents to be adored by women to put on rather than something men actually choose for themselves (the difficult iris of Dior Homme). I won’t go into the neighbourhood of the bland, because it is so thickly populated, one is sure to stumble upon a bestseller or two.

Burberry London for Men, the new men’s scent by the classic British brand, proved to be a very pleasant surprise that unites those elusive aforementioned qualities. Following the quite likeable London for women, a floral dominated by sensuous jasmine with a musky depth and fronted by the engrossing and completely radiant Rachel Weisz, London for Men seems to smell much more expensive than it really is. It exudes the aura of an individual with moral values that can still be a little rough if need be. It burns with the reliable buzz of a home fireplace, red flame and dark ember, but the couple in the house of whom this takes place are still carnally attracted to each other, they still possess that spark, that disloging of elements which accounts for daydreaming and stomach butterflies.

Welsh actor Ioan Gruffudd (pronounced Griffith; I know, I know…and you thought Ralph pronounced Rafe/Rayf was the pits) as its face certainly doesn’t hurt. If you have watched the travesty that "King Arthur" was, despite its worthy male protagonist, Ioan played the part of Lancelot. The seafaring "Hornblower" series is another thing you might have watched him in. The respective male and female black & white ads show the good-looking couple of Weisz and Gruffudd during a a day stroll through London streets, dressed in a casual-oh-so-chic unaffected way, embracing and smiling to one another under the shadow of the trees. I have to admit it's cute, despite myself.

Burberry began its fashion history back in 1856 as a quality line for the perfect weatherproof, sturdy clothes of gabardine mainly for farmers and agricultural workers, later on for field sports. Functionality in a good looking package, what all clothes should aim for. Sir Ernest Shackleton and Roald Amundsen praised the brand's pants and sweaters when conquering the Pole. "Breakfast at Tiffany’s" final scene would have been less of a classic without it.
At times it was an elitist toffs domain, which is ironic if one considers the origins of the brand (but then, so are designer jeans!). The vulgarization that ensued in the last couple of decades with cheap replicas flooding the street market became a baleful thorn on the side of Burberry. Rose Marie Bravo in 2001 hired Christopher Bailey, a Yorkshire man, to inject some young attitude and hopefully distance the brand from chavs (surely a loaded term) He added the original optimistically nuanced "Prorsum" tag (Latin to the rescue…) and made some practical things that seem fresh and interesting in their functionality. Plans to close the Welsh factory, reported in September 2006 with the prospect of 300 jobs lost leave us a little concerned, however.

In the area of perfumes Burberry has been quite successful. Although the counters that carry their perfumes are not gilded, most of their line is proving very commercial and this is no accident. From Touch to Brit via Brit Red and Weekend, they have likeable products. Brit and Brit Red have cottoned on to the gourmand trend and became huge crowd pleasers without committing the sin of smelling tired.
Burberry London was the name of their original scent, issued at 1992, London being the base of their headquarters. Enough to baffle the casual customer, a phenomenon prevalent with recent releases. Suffice to say that the new 2006 Burberry London for men and women both come in a box embossed with the famous plaid (make that “check” if you’re a Londoner; it is a little darker in the men’s version than in the women’s) and they smell completely different from their predecessors.

London for Men begins its fragrant journey on a subdued citrusy note that immediately becomes quite spicy, redolent of the hotness of pepper and cinnamon, mixing elements of a muled wine goblet consumed before a raging logwood fire during a cool idle evening. The illusion of deep dark red fruits (like those in Jo Malone’s Pomegranate Noir) that have been candied creeps up at some point, but the effect is nowhere near the sweetness of Brit, nor the intensity of its cinnamon ambience. The fluffy sweetness is subdued by the delicious trail of smooth pipe tobacco and if this is a note you associate with dear old granpas or cancer sticks (aka cigars), better rethink, because whatever went into the production of this number is bet to make women purr. It’s that good! Booze and tobacco, how politically incorrect can one go these days? (tongue in cheek) Apparently not enough, because although these elements are clearly discernible, they never become as prominent as in –say- Tabac Blond or Botytris. This is a perfume that retains some mass appeal, and that’s not knocking it, not at all.
A delicious plum accord like a festive pie further smoothes out the rougher notes of the booze and spice, while the emergence of a truly refined rich, dry wood and amber accord with some bitterness of napa leather is left to linger on the skin seductively. The overall effect is smooth, elegant, high class and comforting at the same time, with the merest wisp of a vanillic powderiness in the base. Makes you want to don an old reliable jacket and a stylish fedora and go for a walk, if only for the joy of returning to the warmth of the hearth afterwards which makes it eminently fit for the cooler season.

It comes in an eau de toilette and the lasting power is average. Women might be able to pull it off because of its inviting spice note and warmth, while men would smell swoon worthy fetching in it.

Aucun hussard sur le toit

The title of today’s post ironically alludes to the very good homonymous French filmbased on Jean Giono’s novel “Horseman on the roof”, in which Olivier Martinez as an Italian revolutionary soldier flees into cholera-infested 1832 France to escape the Austrian police and meets Juliette Binoche who is in search of her husband.
The association is not completely random as it might seem at first, since Olivier Martinez is the face of the new masculine perfume of Yves Saint Laurent, L’Homme.
Of French and Spanish-Moroccan descent, previously tagged as the French Brad Pitt and currently beau of Kylie Minogue (the game of associations never ends), Martinez never had a hold on me, looks-wise, I have to admit. He has some sort of hazy aspect in his features and a feminine sensuality in his expression that never enticed me. He must have ]a big fan base nevertheless, being chosen as the face of a prestigious house’s new perfume launch.

Yves Saint Laurent needs no introduction and you who know Perfume Shrine’s views on his couture need even less of a lesson. Suffice to say that Tom Ford was not the best thing to befall this historic house and the worthy Stefano Pilati has a hard job in damage control.

Perfume-wise YSL has always been about maximum luxury, glamour, maturity and powerful images: “we are not messing around here”. From the regality and opulence of Opium to the classy icy demeanor of Rive Gauche vintage and from YSL Pour Homme, a classic scent that screams 70’s featuring a nude Yves (click [[popup:yslpourhommenude.jpg::nude Yves::center:1]] to see) when it launched, to the hairy-chested rugged masculinity of Kouros.
In between there were some less vocal scents, such as Y, a chypre of the noblest qualities, Jazz, a nice men’s scent that deserved a better career at the box office, Paris, the heavy-handed craft of Sophia Grojsman for once providing a pleasant effect among her bestsellers and the controversial fruity chypre Champagne that had the vine culturists up in flames to eventually change the name into Yvresse. In Love again and Opium homme were the last memorable ones to come before Tom Ford stepped in. (Baby Doll is rather adolescent, rendering it impossible to categorise along with the rest).

And then all hell broke loose and the iconic women's Rive Gauche got reformulated! Sacrilege! Simultaneously accompanied by Rive Gauche pour Homme (which people say is good, but the shock of the former was so great I have refrained from properly testing on purpose). At that point the future seemed dimly lit, if not dark already.
But then spicy, incense-laden Nu in Eau de parfum (my preferred concentration) launched and managed to make me forget the sins of the past. And M7 for men, which although it is a challenging composition centered on the precious oudh essence manages to smell completely unique and aristocratic and even scandalized the public with a campaign that brought back masculinity into the mainstream of perfume. Cinéma was nice, if a little unimaginative; the expectations were so high!
Yet, most of the more interesting perfumes suffered a poor career at the counters of department stores. The discrepancy is not lost on us.

L’homme, the first one to come in the meta-Ford era, is trying to cover the lost ground by fusing some floral aspect into the composition and using Olivier Martinez with his flou features as the person who stands in what looks like an empty loft with the camera dancing around him.

The bottle in classic YSL tradition is sturdy, heavy and luxurious without becoming ostentatious (Baby Doll is the kitsch exception in their packaging). However it somehow manages to look a tad unattractive and the reason why is hard to put into words. They say it was inspired by Bauhaus; I think not.

In olfactory speaking terms, this fusion of feminine-masculine is done with the inclusion of violet leaves, which give a similar effect to that rendered by iris in Dior Homme. Dior’s Higher with its floral/fruity overtones is also an example that comes to mind, although the advertising of that one was completely effeminate to begin with.
The head of YSL L’homme, with citrusy overtures of ginger and possibly citrus skin, which are surprisingly not tart enough here, plunges into a heart of spicy basil flower sprinkled with pepper and soon after soft violet leaves follow noiselessly giving an ethereal quality usually not associated with masculine fragrances. The moment you smell this stage you are secretly thinking that this could be a nice summer cologne for a woman, but nothing more breathtaking than that. The base mingles soft non-descript woods, from which austere cedar is listed as the core note, although I do detect some haziness and vanillic warmth that further consolidates the meek character of the wholeLinalool and coumarin look like they take part in this neck of woods, so to speak, with their soft ambience, but I can’t be certain. This is not a musky perfume to be sure, contrary to what one would expect. Sandalwood, tonka bean and vetiver are officially listed.
The whole? Pleasant, young and uplifting no doubt, completely unoriginal however. There were enough of classic-feel men’s colognes as it is; Givenchy pour homme, Eternity for men or Bvlgari Aqua to name but a few.

According to one scientific study women choose a rugged virile man between all available choices at time of ovulation in the subconscious presumption that he provides the strongest genetic material for them to procreate, while they change their preference as soon as they are embarking on a pregnancy opting for the one who looks most secure and dependable to stick around. There is nothing wrong with the second image (although combining the two is ideal, don’t you think?). But if you’re looking at spreading your genes, L’homme is not the appropriate choice. It just smells bland.

The fact that no less than 3 noses (Pierre Wargnye, Anne Flipo and Dominique Ropion) have worked on this one points to some confusion as to what vision existed on this scent. Popular sayings may seem corny, but they do hold some truth I’m afraid, and yes, too many people intermingling on one project make for a poor result more often than not.
Perhaps the challenge was too much, perhaps YSL parfums could not afford another mediocre-seller, especially in the huge American market.
Whatever it is, L’homme did not live up to a perfume lover’s anticipation.
Sadly there is no horseman on the roof...

Next review will be of a new release that proved a pleasant surprise!

Rainy weather: Mitsouko time

What can one possibly say about this iconic perfume? What can one add to the tome upon tome of literature on the subject?

Everything has been analyzed over and over : how it was inspired by a literary Japanese heroine in 1919; how the bottle was the same as the one for L’heure bleue; how the aldehyde C14 in there replicates peach skin; how it is a scent implicated in sex under a different perspective than the one in the West; how it is mixed in tragedy, greatness and cinematic art; how the name doesn’t mean what Guerlain has been telling us after all…(you can see all that on my Mitsouko entry on my personal site Perfume Shrine, section "Perfume in literature and film", linked in index)

Sometimes great works of art ultimately lose if one describes them too extensively. They lose their mystique, their spirituality, their rapport with the hidden forces that make them so compelling in the first place.
So we won’t dissect Mitsouko here. We simply won’t. Just because.
We’ll just let ourselves feel the yearning and sense of loss it evokes and slowly whisper my favourite poem. (I'd like it to be on my tombstone)

The god forsakes Antony

When suddenly, at midnight, you hear
an invisible procession going by
with exquisite music, voices,
don’t mourn your luck that’s failing now,
work gone wrong, your plans
all proving deceptive—don’t mourn them
uselessly.
As one long prepared, and graced with courage,
say goodbye to
her, the Alexandria that is leaving.

Above all, don’t fool yourself, don’t say
it was a dream, your ears
deceived you:
don’t degrade yourself with empty hopes like these.
As one
long prepared, and graced with courage,
as is right for you who were given
this kind of city,
go firmly to the window
and listen with deep emotion,
but not
with the whining, the pleas of a coward;
listen—your final
delectation—to the voices,
to the exquisite music of that strange
procession,
and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.

- by Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)

Translated from greek to english by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard

Note for understanding the context: The poem refers to Plutarch's story that when Marc Antony was besieged in Alexandria by Octavian the night before the city fell into enemy hands, he heard an invisible troupe leaving the city. He heard the sounds of instruments and voices making their way through the city. Then, he passed out; the god Bacchus (Dionysus), Antony's protector, was deserting him.

If you want to read Constantinos Cavafy's poetry, click here. Plutarch's Parallel lives link here

Mitsouko entry on Perfume in literature and film: here

Bvlgari Black: Eating Asphalt ~fragrance review

The car analogy on my previous post and today’s pic had been lurking in my mind allied to a particular scent and what with mr.Duirez doing a commercial for Lexus (Duriez is nose in Patou house), brought to my attention by Karol, one of my readers, and everything, this is as good a time as any to bring it up. I had referred to this perfume as a Mercedes S-class its rubber tires eating asphalt in a metropolis setting in my Scent of a Man list a few days ago and the comparison now seems anachronistic somehow, but scripta manent, therefore I am to remain blameless.
Bvlgari (or Bulgari, whichever way you want to spell it) Black is the weird oriental for men (and women; it’s one of those euphemistically called “shared” frags) who want something modern, sleek, original, definitely not the spawn of any other department store fragrance. Yet it is easily accessible, which adds an intrinsic value to people who live in places far away from hip Barneys, Les Senteurs or Body&Soul stores, so the poor chaps might actually test the stuff before commiting the monthly allotment reserved for perfume.


In Black’s case sniffing might be in order if you are unfamiliar with the modern perfume niche market. However under no circumstances is it strange or unappealing to wear. Polarising as it might be, due to the perceived hot rubber tires accord, I find it soft and vanillic, which is perhaps sounding like an oxymoron next to the "supreme exponent of the metropolitan concept", as Bvlgari wants to call it.
Created by Annick Menardo, the talented Cannes-born nose behind Lolita Lempicka, Lolita au masculine, Kouros Body, Hypnotic Poison, Boss and a co-perpetrator for Hypnôse (well, I am no fan, sorry), it was a 1998 sensation even if it never reached the upper echelons sales-wise. Although Dzing! by L’artisan created by nez extraordinaire Olivia Giacobetti launched in 1999 and is quite close to Black, it segues into other avenues of weirdness and wondrousness, enough to make it stand apart.

The bottle is a very fetish-y matte rubbery surface like the rubber watchband from their supreme collection, encasing a glass bottle within that is crowned by a steel top with the Bvlgari Bvlgari logo of their eponymous collection that twists and sprays. There are ON and OFF positions on it, in an attempt to make it look like a gadget or a driving equipment. The idea is brilliant, however people have been reporting that the mechanism has been found a bit wanting, since it can have a tendency to jam or leak if you try too hard. They’d better ameliorate this aspect. The current version exists in 40 and 75ml bottles.

Upon spraying this on skin a warm citrus/bergamot note greets you, soon to be rounded and smoked by the black veil of lapsang souchong tea leaves notes. Tea scents have been something of a trademark for Bvlgari, because it was them that introduced the accord with their Bvlgari Femme perfume and the tradition persisted along in Eau parfumée au thé vert (green tea), then thé blanc (white tea) and finally thé rouge (red tea). Seems tea is coming out in all colours of the rainbow, after all, and pity me who had underestimated it through my teenager years as the drink to consume while sick. Little did I know then.
Along with tea a strange and wonderful resiny aroma rises up from heated skin like smoke signs by stressed executives in their offices to the object of their affection along the hall. Has life become so hectic that we communicate in new ways and with new signals after all? Does perfume hold a special place in this new language? I think it does.
Proof positive that pretty soon the warm hug of rich vanilla envelops the cool smokiness and the whole nests in a woody embrace created by the combination of sandalwood, cedar and amber. No single wood is discernible for what it is, because the mingling is seamless and vanilla and some musk seem to overpower the rest.

Although Bvlgari insist to list oakmoss as one of the ingredients I have never smelled it in this and I doubt that now with the new IFRA regulations it will be included anymore.

Anyway, the fact remains; do you have an object of affection across the hall? Are her or his antennae tuned in to perfume? Black might help you deliver that message you have been wanting to across.


Pic by HelmutNewton.edu

Givenchy Ange our Demon: Repossessed? Fragrance Review

There are some deeply seated feelings and memories in all of us and smell has an uncanny way of unlocking them. The launch of Givenchy’s Ange ou Démon (meaning angel or demon and marketed under "Ange ou Etrange" in Muslim counties) has been such a case recently.
Promising a dichotomy that was much anticipated –nay… longed for- in an era that overindulges its gluttony streak that runs through the ever-dieting masses, everyone was expecting the duality of a light/dark scent.
The advertorial in the LVMH on-line mag enticed us with this: “The new feminine fragrance […] is an invitation to succumb to that most powerful charm, an enigmatic scent created from shadow and light.
With elegance, inspiration, playful spirit and exceptional quality, Ange ou Démon is a concentrate of Givenchy’s values. A highly sophisticated structure, precious and rare ingredients and the generous emotions unleashed, all combine to make this a scent in a class of its own.
The truly splendid olfactory universe of Ange ou Démon unfolds around the purest lily and the deepest oak wood.”

Created by Firmenich’s Olivier Cresp and Jean-Pierre Bethouart, the new floriental was aimed at creatures that were not targeted by their Very Irrésistible offering with the lovely and angelic Liv Tyler to front it. It wanted to play up the dark card, the forbidden.
Images and insinuations to the forbidden have been tied to perfume advertising from time immemorial. Psychologist Joachim Mensing has this to offer: “Wearing a sinful scent is a way of living out your alter ego’s ideal existence without the risks of acting it out in real life”. Especially women, I think, trapped in the Madonna/whore exigencies of male fantasy.
Therefore, an avalanche of sinful scents including such gems as My sin, Deviltry, Tabu, Magie Noire, Bandit and lots of others has been tumbling over us for the past century or so. Witchcraft, possession,Hecate worship and demonic names have had their fair share in this. It will never end as people are simultaneously lured and appalled by such notions. Ange ou Démon looked to be in this illustrious line. Sadly it did not deliver, at least for me.

The modeling face is Marie Steiss, née Marie de Villepin, the daughter of former French Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin. She changed her name to Steiss to pursue a career in modeling and acting. Maybe it also has to do with the fact that her father is so unpopular now despite being quite dashing. (certainly in the league of politicians of Pierre Trudeau or J.F. Kennedy good looks). The girl isn’t bad looking, but certainly not evocative of angelic/demonic nuances. The dark roots under the “big” blonde which alludes to Debbie Harry are not much help, I’m afraid. However the next rumoured Givenchy scent, probably called Bourgeois, might be grist to her mills.

The design of the bottle is meant to resemble a crystal from a costly chandelier, in the shape of a spear or a sinner’s tear (your choice) with a colouring degradé from light to dark, evoking the duality of the name and the scent. Although it was not to my exact taste, it does look luxurious and sturdy, I have to admit, unlike many others on the market from equally prestige brands.

The scent itself is built thus (info from Escentual):

TOP NOTES - Crystalline Femininity: white thyme essence, mandarin from Calabria and saffron essence. HEART NOTES - Radiant Nobleness: noble lily, ylang-ylang, orchid maxillaria. BASE NOTES - Mysterious Addiction: tonka bean, vanilla, palissander wood and oak wood essence.
Well…..hmmm…….

Upon initial spraying a very cleaning-fluid-like note emerges, cool and with herbal elements that I am sorry to report do not remind anyone of the culinary thyme. There is no trace of the tartness I associate with mandarin either. The lush florals come to the fore with their intense headiness; lily is particularly evident, and has a penetrating smell combined with ylang ylang which smells true enough. There is a very candied aroma to the floral, which surprised me, because although lots of florals are sweet by nature, they do have a different nuance to them, more piercing than flat saccharine. This is vaguely reminiscent of the syrupy sweetness of Hypnôse by Lancôme or Armani Code, two scents suffice to say, I am not particularly attracted to. Those two do share common elements among them, enough even to label them “olfactory cousins”. [Many others in the market tout their orientalised woody sweetness too, from Boucheron Trouble to Le Baiser du dragon by Cartier. The latter two however do not bear a resemblance to Ange ou Démon, but merely illustrate tendencies in the industry.]

Orchids from a hothouse do not have the scent they are naturally supposed to have and therefore I am not the best judge of this particular note. I did search about what maxillaria orchid is, though and the result was this. Seems like the coconut emission of the blossom does contribute to the sweetness, although I cannot be conclusive on such aspects.
However the swirl of silky saffron does make an emphatic appearance and softens the top and heart notes that supposedly smell of “crystalline femininity” and “radiant nobleness”. A slight peppery smell is evident too.
A good thing, since vanilla and tonka bean would divert this into confectionary avenues I am best far away from. In another mix, of sour or bitter tendencies, these two notes would provide the much necessary plush, but not here.
Oak wood in the base, along with pallisander, promised a more chypré/woody quality and the culmination of the drydown is imbued in rich woody essences, with a little bit of powder. Perhaps oak wood is an attempt to bypass the IFRA restrictions on the use of oakmoss in fragrances, although the two are not identical in smell obviously. This is just a guess on my part.
The lasting impression is not that of a deep orientalised fragrance. It lacks that certain roundness coupled with some kick which fragrances of that category possess, despite the vanillic/oak drydown. And although overall candied, it has a weird smell of faint underlying mustiness that doesn’t mix well with the top elements. The transition is not seamless.
The lasting power is good, which of course might be a Damocles’ sword.

Actually the top and heart was so disturbing to my subconsious that it immediately got me on the thinking track hinted by the pic I chose for today. Linda Blair as Regan Teresa MacNeil from The Exorcist is not an image we are going for. At least I hope not.
Not even the handsome Max von Sydow can save me from the ghostly memories.

This 1973 cinematic classic by master director William Friedkin is in fact so terrifying in a deep-rooted, subconscious way that it has never ceased haunting me since I first watched it in my teens. And yes, I did watch it again as an adult, more than once. No more splatter than lots of other films out there, no more credible in its storyline either; yet, its power lies in the fact that it makes one believe that evil does exist and it spares no one, not even innocent little children and this is a deeply disturbing thought… Let’s hope they don't get repossessed chez Givenchy!

The eau de parfum comes in 50ml and 100ml. Spray bottles at 65 euros and 95 euros respectively and I am told that the scent flew off the shelves in the first days of its launch in the UK and in the States. The creation of a bath/body line simultaneously with the launch of the scent hints at them knowing something I do not. Perfectly plausible, I'll give you that.