Attitude by Armani: fragrance review

What's in a name? As it is obvious from the following links (here, here and here), plenty! Names can be poetic, pedestrian, plebian, pleading or pleasant, but they always leave a significant imprint on the ear and the mind.
Not less so when it comes to perfume names.

Hence my slight dissent with the name of the new male fragrance by Giorgio Armani, called Attitude. With a name like that one would expect something of a bombastic olfactory grenade hurled into the air regardless of who catches fire and acting with an air of assumed impunity.
It is perhaps my onerous duty to report that neither of those things is happening.
Although no one could accuse Attitude of smelling badly, a memorable fragrance it ain't. In the plethora of department store offerings it doesn't make a bleep on the screen of consiousness, but melts into the background like the brushstrokes of an experienced painter who caters for the salons of the rich producing pretty prortraits and still lives that have not much to say to the viewer apart from their uniform pleasantness and the signature of someone well-known.

The perceived target group of the new offering would be the man who "affirms himself, cultivates the art of being just, absolutely himself. Without provocation, demands, embarassment, nor complexes." Indeed all the elements of an "attitude", although exactly which avenue that latter might traipse on is not indicated.

"Being himself" or "herself": is there a more confusing way of putting things I wonder. What exactly is a sense of self? Who are we? Are we the sum of our experiences and memories? The product of our respective environments? The predestined momentum that came into being through a higher power? Or are we the sole oeuvre of our own deeper understanding and affirming it proudly to the world?
It's a very perplexing matter and one which demands everyone of us looks deep down into themselves to try and analyse. The search for a personal identity is a life-long journey: constantly evolving upon firmly grown tendencies, if I am allowed to use the paradoxical justaposition of two opposites.

But reverting to the scent, the "attitude" doesn't materialise beyond the pleasant and innofensive. Conceived by esteemed noses such as Annick Menardo, Olivier Cresp, and Alberto Morillas of Firmenich, it includes interesting notes that materialise in different proportions accounting for the ending result.
The official notes according to Osmoz are: sicilian lemon, coffee absolute, cardamom, lavender, smoky accord, chinese cedar, patchouli, opoponax, and amber.
Of those I am tentatively admiting to you that only the hesperide along with the woods traspire clearly and loudly on the paper strip. The rest need much more coaxing to appear if at all.
The coffee absolute accord promise was actually the one I had been dreaming of most of all, as it is one of my favourite notes in fragrances of either persuasion and I was a little disappointed in not getting it to "sing" its magical song on my skin. Lavender has never been a note that I am crazy about (with the exception of a few notable exceptions, one of which is Tauer's Reverie au jardin) so I didn't put too much emphasis on it anyway. It is also quite a traditional element in so many masculine colognes, that it's par for the course. The inclusion of patchouli is of course one of the major trends of the last decade,ever since Angel picked up and showed that the potential of a hippy oil can be greater than imagined and indeed it has softly embraced many fragrances in its cuddly and warm bosom.
What remains poised on skin is a warmish, nice amalgam of smoky woods and light amber that would never distance anyone with its aura, yet would never get you noticed for your wild personality either. You'd have to provide the attitude yourself!

Available from major department stores from May at the following prices:
42euros for 30ml,59euros for 50ml and 71euros for 75ml.



Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

Detchema by Revillon: fragrance review

If you have ever been wondering what lost innocence is made of, look no further than Roman Polanski’s 1968 Rosemary's Baby film classic and the floral romantic trail that accompanied the sweet and tender young protagonist Mia Farrow: Detchema by Revillon. Of course if you peeked a bit at Milton you wouldn’t be far off either, but I leave that for another post with more profound existentialist tendencies.
In the film of which a little glimpse you can catch clicking here Mia Farrow is destined to be the mother of the devil’s child, married to what seems like a great guy (played by John Cassavetes) who belongs to a sect of Satan worshipers, intent on bringing their devious plans about domination to fruition through the means of a Madonna in reverse. Everything seems normal on the surface, while deep down the ploy is getting on very well and no one suspects a thing until…..
The crucial toll of the bell comes too late for poor Mia who is hypnotized by all sorts of devious people into believing they’re all catering for her own good, hers and the child’s. Little does she know….or indeed do we all.

So her scent of choice is not far off: Detchema is indeed a gentle unassuming, powdery aldehydic floral of the 50s, introduced in 1953, a time when the ladylike florals and chypres reigned supreme.
Detchema took the theme of the aldehydic floral with a lactonic tenderness interwoven and got it to new heights along with Le Dix de Balenciaga. Less sensual than Chanel no.5, the iconic prototype of the aldehydic fragrance and somehow a bit more soapy (well, acrually quite a bit) than the gorgeous Le Dix, it still possessed professionalism and clean cut, ladylike images to recommend it. It projects a freshness of someone soignée and decked out in everyday chic the way they did it the old days.
It could also be likened to effect that the soapy Nocturnes or the tender Fleurs de Rocaille by Caron have on the psyche: instant transport into a different world.
Of course for those exact reasons it cannot claim any great demands on originality and innovation. She is one of the entourage, never the shinning star of the marquise, yet for what it is it is quite fetching.

All through the 60s and 70s this little gem had been revered and worn with pride by women while the bursting into scene of the orientals with a vengeance after the introduction of the mighty Opium in 1977 signaled the death toll. It never disappeared yet the reformulation during the 90s was inevitable to survive in a market where the vintage has been deemed old-fashioned and passé. And perhaps it is. Yet the lingering halo of innocence and timeless elegance this fragrance imparts to the wearer is reminding us of the youthful physique of Mia Farrow in this film, traipsing along New York, trapped inside the Dakota building.

The sweet armloads of ylang ylang with discernible hyacinth and the warmth of a little carnation get the treatment of a lovely and fresh peach note that along with neroli raises this into the territory of eternal sunshine. Yet the peach never becomes too pronounced, while the burst of putting this onto skin is akin to a refreshing mist on a body that is full of activity and life.
Powdered orris and tonka provide the tender drop on which the whole rests like the clean sheets of the bed on which Mia conceives baby Satan. Thanks to the inclusion of some earthy notes the whole never veers into too sweet avenues, remaining beautifully balanced.

The eau de toilette is especially powdery in the vintage while the parfum/extrait is the superior form with a smoothness that is precise and clear. The choice of Eau de parfum whom was a lucky inclusion in a package by a Canadian friend (to which I am grateful) is a happy medium and it will satisfy those who seek an insistent sillage eminently. It also lasts amazingly well. The vintage comes in a black box with gold filigree which is again fitting the visual reference I picked for it and it would be recommended to track it down in that form, although the new one is not badly made either.
Wear it and be prepared to lose your marbles. Or keep them if you’re smart enough.

Official fragrance notes: Peach, Neroli, Hyacinth, Bergamot, Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Carnation, Lily of the valley, Orris, Sandal, Vetiver, and Tonka.

Bottles of Detchema are on FragranceX and the Perfume House of Portland (taking mail orders)
Pic of the bottle courtesy of fragrancex, clip from youtube, song "Evil" by Interpol

Perfume news: Turin is working it

While we all know that Luca Turin has been working on a new Guide about old and new fragrances, about to be out next year, it is good to find out that he is meanwhile really, really working it, amassing some 1400 bottles in the process sent to him by the companies (well, he had half of them before, as he tells us in confidence) and really bending over those fumes to appreciate the intricacies and nuances.
I do hope the end result will be worthy of every perfumista's wet dream.

In the meantime, he confirms what lots of plainsfolk have been discussing about the eau de parfum formulation of Chanel no.5, that is perhaps *cough, cough* a little heavy-handed? "An eighties lapse of judgment" is how he puts it. I guess this puts a negative spin on poor Jacques Polge, the in house perfumer ever since that period. But it is indeed no secret that as far as no.5 is concerned the parfum/extrait is the way to go, all the way, baby! This is due to it being the only form in which the precious, very expensive jasmine and Rose de Mai (rosa centifolia)from Grasse, perfume capital of France, is still used. However to come to Polge's defence, the eau de parfum is not that bad either. In fact every permutation of No.5 is precious and worth sampling, so trust your own judgement when testing.

As to Guerlain, of course the collection is much more expansive with the unavoidable misses and commercial flops around the way, often no fault of the perfume itself (Fleur de Feu?), but we can clearly discern that Luca is still predisposed favourably towards our beloved Guerlain which is as good a thing as any.
The following is eminently interesting for those who follow the naturals vs. synthetics debate and sheds a light on why a fragrance that does contain natural extracts and essences is a wondrous thing indeed:

Guerlain, like food firms, should put dates on bottles. I had often heard, and never believed, that fragrances made with naturals change a lot in the first six months, as wine does. The family resemblance of fresh Guerlains is even stronger than usual, as if the Guerlinade base that is common to all of them was the first to fade. Some are so rich and complex that we decided to let them sit in a dark room for a few months, till they calm down and pull themselves together.

You can read the whole article in english here.

After all this, what more can I say? À nôtre santé!
Painting Distillatio by Janvander Straet(1523-1605)courtesy of allposters.com

Bond no.9 Coney Island: fragrance review

The time is ripe for me to present one of the better known niche brands with a unique concept that is not actually centered on an olfactory vision or a conceptual design, but instead on one of the most fascinating cities in the whole world: the Big Apple; New York and its exciting neighbourhoods, each one of them captured in a luxurious bottle reflecting its qualities and landmarks in aromas that entice.

Bond no.9 is the brainchild of Laurice Rahmé, a modern woman of firm business savvy, born in Paris, living in New York for the past 25 years and formerly known for her distribution of the prestigious Creed brand in the USA. Laurice began her career as an antiques dealer having studied art at the Louvre in Paris. But pretty soon she joined Lancôme-Paris as international training director, became the director of the Lancôme Institut de Beauté in 1976 and relocated to L’Oréal USA’s headquarters (formerly Cosmair) in New York City. In 1989, Rahmé became the partner of Annick Goutal’s operations in New York and contributed to the brand reaching cult status among the congnoscenti and sales that amounted to 90% of the brands worldwide business. Next, in 1995, Rahmé became the exclusive U.S. distributor for Creed and helped propel it into the conciousness of every discerning customer.
When that became a thing of the past, she realised that her own vision was left to be realised ~according to Bond no.9 website :

In 2001, Rahmé was able to realize her dream of launching her own collection of fragrances named after different neighborhoods in New York City. The collection’s name, Bond No. 9, is derived from the actual address of the flagship store, which is located at 9 Bond St. The store features self-serve stations from which different scents can be sampled and poured into a selection of bottles from one of many freestanding, mannequin-shaped displays. “For me, the store is a continuation of the packaging,” says Rahmé. She now owns and operates a total of four stores in Manhattan.

The concept of the perfumes is "to restore artistry to perfumery and to mark every New York neighbourhood with a scent of its own": from uptown to midtown to downtown, every little speck is covered in the huge collection of 28 women's, men's and unisex eaux de parfum so far in bottles that usually capture the eye and create cravings for luxury.
Of course the claim to restore artistry to perfumery can be pretty much attributed to every niche brand operating under the same principles and indeed that is one of the main reasons for choosing niche over more mainstream products. However the uniqueness of the locale concept is undisputed and always fun to peruse.
Indeed she reached great critical acclaim when her offering Chinatown by young nez (that's french for nose, the perfumer behind this) Aurélien Guichard was highly praised by none other than Luca Turin in one of his articles for NZZ Folio. West Side seems a perennial favourite among perfume afficionados, while my personal favourite remains New Haarlem with its strong coffee notes that make me swoon like a good demitasse and I do enjoy wearing the blackcurrant laced light musk of Scent of Peace. But there's something for everyone in this line.

As Laurice revealed in an interview at Basenotes to Danielle Osbourne on October 26 2006:

“It is the Bond Street store that inspired me to create a brand out of our address, Bond No.9. Yet, it is the events of September 11 that motivated me to make New York smell good again and take on the ambitious project of creating a fragrance for each of its neighborhoods (this was done for Paris, my native city in the 20th century with a dozen fragrances made by a handful of companies created for Paris neighborhoods). Now, in the 21st century it is New York's turn to become the capital of fragrance.”

Myself I find that endearing and respect Laurice for saying this. Additionally a fresh approach and a desire to break the rules and molds of yesterday can be a positive thing after all.

"And where does the new Coney Island fall?" you might ask.
I can tell you that it is a fun scent inspired by one of the most fun locales in New York City.
Purpotedly containing notes of margarita mix (tequila included), melon, guava, cinnamon, chocolate, caramel, musk, vanilla, cedar and sandalwood, it is certainly citrusy in its character and radiates a fun, pool-side languor in tropical sharongs with a fiery bright hibiscus pinned behind one ear.
The booze of the Margarita is very apparent to my nose, with slices of fresh lime and some salty element, adding fun and excitement and making this a great fragrance for a hot day spent at a fun and casual occassion. Just like Coney Island the locale stood for for the 1920s crowd who, aided by public transport, rushed to its shores to enjoy the beach and the fairs.
The salty sweet combination has been explored by Elixir des Merveilles and L de Lempicka recently with great success but in those instances the overall orientalised tone veers the end fragrance in different avenues.
The addition of fruit to the lasting citrus of Coney Island combines with a watery, acqueous element probably due to Calone (which is hinted at by the mention of melon) that manages to not make me shudder -taking my usual tastes into account- because of the slightly warm notes that evolve after a while to give roundness to the sharp start. The slightly spicy heart is evident if one waits a while, while the promisingly gourmand middle is not very pronounced, so people who have a sweet tooth looking forward to the candy floss and chocolate of fun fairs could become a little disappointed; however I do not think it was the brand's intention to construct a gourmand, sweet fragrance in the first place. This is a fragrance to evoke hot sand and drinks with little paper umpbrellas in them, none of the noir ambience that the real Coney island held at some point in Hollywood movies or contrarily the simplistic vanillic sweets of children sucking on lollipops. Today of course Coney Island is famous for its circus and mermaid parades which provide a unique sight replete with the shock value factor that New York City is famous for.
A slight warm amberish and musky accord is melting the whole into a light base in which the announced notes of sandalwood or cedarwood are not particularly evident either, yet it reminds me of a cross between YSL In Love again and Aquasun by Lancaster. Which is a good thing for a summer scent that is meant to compliment and not overwhelm.


According to the Press release:

What is the smell of fun—and how do you bottle it? That was our mission at Bond No. 9 when we decided to capture the essence of Coney Island and turn it into an eau de parfum. Why Coney Island? We were intrigued by the vintage allure of this century-old fantasy-land with its honky-tonk chic, its Mermaid Parade, its incomparable hotdog haven (Nathan’s Famous) fronting the Atlantic Ocean along Brooklyn’s southernmost edge. But we wanted to celebrate its future, too, just as a formidable revival is getting under way.

Coney Island isn’t just any amusement park. In its early 20th century heyday, New York’s premier people’s playground was a rowdy, mind-numbing pleasure-mecca that more than matched the energies of the city that contained it. Its daredevil rides—the legendary nine-hill Cyclone roller coaster … the Wonder Wheel … the freefall Parachute Jump—set a fevered, frantic pace, while its bathing pavilions were more like phantasmagorical gilded palaces that shimmered in the air. Not to forget the raucous nightspots. For a city that where glancing at strangers for more than two seconds has always been an impertinence, here was an escape hatch—a Bacchanalia where one and all had free rein to scream together in terror and joy. Sure, in recent decades Coney Island fell into decline, but today it is decidedly on the upswing, with brand new rides, a water park, and a mammoth glass atrium in the works.
Bond No 9’s Coney Island conjures up both the magical history and the reawakening of this beachfront paradise. Combined in this contemporary gourmand delight are the sugar-cool notes of margarita mix, hypnotically seductive chocolate and caramel, plus cedarwood. The high-voltage blue bottle recalls the Coney Island’s expanse of sea and sky, while the contrasting gold neck evokes the thousands of electric lights that once lit up its night sky.

The turquoise bottle is fetching in its bright shade garlanded by a ribbon of gold as if to represent little blub lights of fun fairs, although not as covetable as the bottle of Chinatown in all its Swarovski glory.

The new fragrance will officially launch on June 1st, but the stores take pre-orders by mid-May. It is sold at all four Bond No. 9 stores, at selected branches of Saks Fifth Avenue, and at Harvey Nichols, Harrods, Paris Gallery, Lane Crawford. Besides being available in its 3.4 oz. artist-designed superstar bottle and box presentation ($180), 1.7oz travel size ($125), Coney Island may be purchased by the ounce ($40), either in a 2-ounce basic spray flacon with gilt honeycomb cap ($25) or in unique vintage or art bottles, featured in a wide variety of designs ($60 - $200).
Bond no.9 perfumes can be ordered online at the official Bond site and at First in Fragrance/Aus liebe zum duft in Europe.


Top pic from Coney Island photoshoot on April 21 2007 by Mike on photomeetup.com
Pic of bottle comes from the advertising campaign of Bond no.9

Orange blossom week: part 4 - abstract brushstrokes

What is abstract and how it pertains to olfaction? Let's question ourselves. If we're talking about abstraction as the thought process wherein ideas are distanced from objects then there is a whole school of offerings that evoke some distant memory of something through the use of non-representational means, just like in art; especially in Lyrical Abstraction (a term originally coined by Larry Aldrich in 1969 to describe what he saw in the studios of artists at that time)or even Abstract expressionism, of which Pollock is a representative example, on to the geometrical stylisation of Yiannis Moralis.

In such a context it is not hard to see that the rendition of an aromatic note, even such a familiar one as orange blossom, can be sublimated in a way that exalts its effect without featuring its true characteristics. In fact without featuring the actual thing at all!
Aromachemical engineers have the additional ability to use a note that naturally is only a top or heart or even base accent and manipulate it in order to make it last longer or for a lesser amount of time. Therefore orange blossom, a note that in its form of "absolute" is a heart to bottom note may appear out of the vial as soon as we open to smell or indeed neroli (the essential oil from orange blossom) might be discernible throughout a fragrance's development.
It is also possible to use aromachemicals that evoke the essence of orange blossoms like the ghost of someone near and dear appearing out of a desire to see them much like Hamlet's father, in a composition that is centered around them yet contains none. Ingredients that could be used include Aurantiol, Methyl Anthranilate, and Oranger Crystals.
Primary examples of this technique would be amply illustrated by Fleur du Mâle the new fragrance by Gaultier, Narciso For Her by Narciso Rodriguez and Castile by Penhaligon's. Indeed those are fragrances that fine though they are feature such an abstract orange blossom that it is spectral in its appearence rather than physical and tangible, like in examples previously mentioned.

Fleur du Mâle by Galtier has already had a full review at Perfumeshrine. Suffice to say that it is the essence of a fluffy cloud, all hay-coumarin and ersatz orange blossom through the eyes of a master of abstraction and could be worn by women just as easily as men.

Castile by Penhaligon's on the other hand is in another vein. Technically also a masculine fragrance, yet highly asexual in its soapy nature, it soars on notes of clean neroli and bergamot at first to warm up just a bit later on with hazy orange blossom, all the while retaining a clean atmosphere of minimalism.
I have a confession to make at this point. When staying at european hotels -the luxurious kind; I avoid the cheap ones after one horrible experience not due to my choosing which however left me probably scarred for life- I love to enter the bathroom first. Gaze at the white clean towels, all pressed and folded, the bath acroutments, lined up for my using, little soaps on the sink, inhale the aroma of cleanliness and proceed to the pulverised sheets on the bed that are starchy and unlined like big sheets of paper on the desk of a writer longing to be filled with ink recounting thoughts and memories of ambiguous value.
This is what Castile evokes in me: staying in a luxury hotel, posing as some person more important than the prosaic historian that I am, halo of far away distance from mundanity fimly placed on my head and not a care in the world behind my aviator sunglasses. "Clean" in a minimal, austere, yet also friendly way without featuring one sharp or musky note.

Narciso by Narciso Rodriguez on the other hand goes into the other direction of "clean". It has been such an influential, seething discovery in my relatively recent perfume past that I have real trouble talking about it. This might sound like a hyperbole and an unsuccessful one at that, yet I assure you that the way it has sneaked its way into my heart with its wiles is astounding. The concentration in the admittedly confusing range that I am focusing on at the moment is the Eau de toilette, with its sexy ambience of clean musks at the background and the inclusion of an abstract orange blossom touch on the foreground.
Nary does a day go by when wearing it that the passing stranger (and a loved one) does not turn to sniff a little longer, lean a little closer, sometimes even comment on it in complimentary terms. Nary does a day go by when wearing it that I am not trasported in a place of contentment, of confidence, of feeling fresh and young and able to conquer the world on a wink or a smile.
To categorise it as clean or as sexy is doing it an injustice. Its erotic power hinges on the creation of a distinguished, sophisticated eroticism which is ethereal and distanced from heavy seductions that in reality repel rather than entice. The absence of saccharine girliness despite the assured overall youthfulness of the composition speaks highly of a sexual being who is ready to consumate the affair with a playful toss of the leg up in the air and not after losing its virginity at the school's prom dance. Whether that would be the net result in the end is fair game to its paws, but nevertheless this is not the iniative on which the fragrance operates. It hums of unmade beds in homes rather than hotels, where the warmth of humans and the life of lovers has found a nest out of the cold harsh mechanical world outside.
Narciso Rodriguez eau de toilette is said to include notes of honey flower, solar musk, orange flower, amberlyn, tactile musk, and tactile woods.
Amberlyn by the way is a petrochemical that is intended to smell a bit like ambergris. Honey Flower is an evergreen shrub (genus Melianthus)native to Cape of Good Hope.
Too abstract for words really in its aroma-synthetic marvel, this Francis Kurkdjian oeuvre is a masterpiece that has it own place in the pantheon of great scents. I am sure that the future will be kind to its beautiful visage.



Painting "Young Girl" 1971 by greek painter Giannis Moralis courtesy of eikastikon.gr