Fahrenheit 32 by Dior: fragrance review

Why was this new men's scent baptised with this weird name? Well, for starters, there was the classic fragrance Fahrenheit by Dior that erupted into the scene in 1988 with all the gusto of an iconoclast along with its female counterpart Dune.
And then, it is exactly 32 degress Fahrenheit that water freezes: equivalent of 0 degrees in the Celsius scale.

This scaling system is quite fascinating if one takes into account another classic of sorts, of a more profound level perhaps: that of the printed word. The dystopian science fiction by Ray Bradbury called "Fahrenheit 451", in which the author describes a future american society that wrapped up in sybaritic living and anti-intellectual tendencies abhors books and goes on to burn them.

The protagonist, Ray Montag, is the very witty antithesis of His Girl Friday of the famous classic era movie, especially since in true german spirit (physicist Daniel Gabriel Fahrenheit was German) "Mondag" means "Monday". And yes, this novel has also been filmed.
Fahrenheit 451 on the other hand is the point of auto-ignition of paper...Semantics, semantics.
For some dark, pessimistic reason I am quite convinced that the state of affairs in the world currently do not distance us too much from this nightmarish Orwellian vision. But perhaps I am digressing.

To revert to the "frozen" aspect of this quite cooler Fahrenheit, mes amis, as you might have surmissed by now, this new offering is what is affectionately called a "flanker": a perfume that follows up the successful anion bearing a variation of the name; yet usually either having nothing whatsoever in common with the genetic pool of the former or alternatively featuring a very slight variation of it, questioning the purpose of its existence apart from the boost that it would bring to the sales of both.
Fahrenheit 32 places itself in the first category. It bears little similarity to the classic fragrance and is intended as a tribute to the synthesized orange blossom that has been explored in men's scent recently also by the wonderful Fleur dy Mâle by Gaultier, reviewed just a little while ago. (click here for full review)
Designed by now former artistic director Heidi Slimane with the collaboration François Demachy it has been concocted by nose Louise Turner of Quest.

The general direction is one of a fresh oriental-woody that intermingles piquant aldehydic touches with orange blossom, light smooth vanilla, and what smells to my nose as delicate synthetic musks. The earthiness and slighty dirty appeal of vetiver does not come to the fore, despite its graceful way of making fragrances cool in every sense of the word.
The description goes like this: fresh top notes, orange blossom and vetiver for the hear nnotes, vanilla and solar notes for the base.
Indeed the freshness is akin to a cooling spray, which is implied by the white bottle that takes the classic one of original Fahrenheit to a new techno trip under strobo lights. It's opalescence and smooth milky texture reminded me a lot of the woman's Pure Poison, which I think is not coincidental, as that too is also based on the same synthesized orange blossom note and delivers itself with a freshness that pierces the nostrils for a while.

Compared to Fleur du Mâle it is not much further apart, yet in a way that one captured me more and retained my interest more avidly. Fahrenheit 32 is very likeable and on the scent strip lingers nicely making one to sniff and resniff to consolidate the memory, but a classical masculine fragrance it can never pose to be. It's again a little too feminine for its own good, which makes it fodder for either adventurous guys or the girlfriends who I am sure will fall under its charms.


Top pic In search of the unicorn by bigbird3/flickr
Pic of fahrenheit 451 by Wikipedia

Michael Kors Island Hawaii: fragrance review

"Pack your bags chicka and let’s get to the tropics!", shouts excitedly the dark haired beau with the bright polo shirt and the suave moves. "South Seas to be exact!" If the promise of a lei and tropical beaches of sugar spun sand and gigantic palm trees moving in the wind weaves a spell on your innermost hedonist and you associate summer pleasures with such paradises then get yourself prepared for a joyful journey to that destination with a prolonged sniff of Michael Kors Island Hawaii.
This is a variation of his more watery Island fragrance that was encased in an aqua bottle of the same heavy square-lined design and is accompanied by another edition called Island Fiji.

Michael Kors has been instrumental in one of the sartorial masterpieces of modern day cinema, for which I will be always grateful: the remake of “The Thomas Crown Affair” (and the original is right up there in my pantheon of pantheons). In it Renee Russo prances around in his prêt-a-porter with much aplomb, all flushed cheeks and coppery hair (it suited her to a T!) exhibiting the kind of clothes we would all want to wear and feel like a million bucks every single day of our existence. It was breathtaking and this is an Yves Saint Laurent enthusiast that is talking to you now. The artwork (since this “scam” is taking place in a gallery and not a bank this time around) didn’t hurt either. But the costumes on both protagonists are perfectly enhancing their enviable bodies. In one memorable scene Renee is going to the Caribbean on a spur of the moment thing, in which dressed in simply a vest and a sarong she looks stunning and oh-so-carefree. Wish I could wake up to look like that every day too!

From then on I paid some closer attention to Mr.Kors and his designs. His advice too with whom he was profuse it seems, garnering column inches in glossy mags such as Allure and In Style. I still remember his advice to always smile and always have a little subtle tan on (I do hope in those ultraviolet-menacing days he means the fake kind) and I figured “now there’s a man of summer mood!” (something which I am not; I mean “of summer mood” of course, in case it was vague…).
Anyway, it was even funnier still when that camp masterpiece of American satire in film “Zoolander” came up with what is the most ingenious caricature of designing to this day embodying both the personae of Gaultier and Kors into the personification of Mugatu/Will Ferell making for hilarious results.
Click here to see a sample:

Kors had my sympathy still.

And so when his perfumes came out and became available where I live I gave them the proper time of day.
His original Michael is a tuberose symphony that is heard loud and clear as if you put Wagner into the stereophonic installation of a big car with windows rolled down, coming up from streets ahead, loud bass swamping everything across its way. It was lovely, magnificent, but so potent that it had me seriously questioning whether anyone could sustain so much of a good thing.
His other creation Kors was featuring a port note that to my nose was very welcome and it shall be included in upcoming posts of a different nature altogether that pertain more to the sommelier than the parfumeur (hopefully I have thus intrigued you!).
And then came Island which to me was pleasant, but not too much note-worthy. A decant saw me through last summer and that was that.
Imagine my surprise when I saw the very same bottle encased in bright vermillon on the shelves of Sephora tagged Island Hawaii. The brightness of the colour was beckoning like a light in the sea. A sign of coming to it or to avoid it? The doubt is only really answered when one sniffs and then lives to tell the tale.
And so I did.

The initial burst of very tart and sweet fruits in the guise of clementines and oranges was irresistible and although these are fruits that do not pass my lips in any shape or form I do enjoy smelling their delicious rind aroma in perfumes. It was mouthwatering and despite the much despised “fruity” tag they captured my attention right away.
Right after this a phase of slight soapiness segues in milled in jasmine and neroli which exude a lovely latheriness like emerging sprite-like from a blue lagoon of crystal clear waters. Hydroponic pineapple is a fancy word for a watery synthesized pineapple note that is not too apparent to my nose (certainly not like in Maitre Parfumer et Gantier’s Bahiana) but the lusciousness of the juicy fruit is continuing madly seducing me into getting a frilly cocktail with little paper umbrellas (so not me, the straight vodka and red wine consuming type I could scream!). Yet it is indeed lovely and I can’t hide the fact. It carries the tropical flowers torch from Michael original scent but with much more playfulness and gusto.
As the scent dries down, it retains much of the orange tone of the original impression with jasmine overlays that are married to a little amber that accounts for warmth and nice longevity on the skin.

In comparison Island Fiji is much closer to the plainly named aqua Island and to my nose a tad inferior. But if bent you need to test for yourself to ascertain.


The press release has this to offer:
"Developed jointly by International Flavors & Fragrances and Trudi Loren, vice president of corporate fragrance development worldwide for Aramis and Designer Fragrances, the fragrance breaks down as follows:

TOP NOTES: clementine, juicy orange, hydroponic pineapple & neroli
HEART: orange flower, jasmine sambac & Hawaiian ginger lily
DRYDOWN: white amber, creamy sandalwood & balsamic notes"

I am so getting a bottle of this!

Available at major department stores and Sephora (60$ for 1.7oz/50ml)

Artwork Hawaiian Pin Up girl 1949 by Al Moore courtesy of allposters.com
Bottle pic from Kors advertising campaign.
Clip uploaded by LPAS

Happy Mother's day!

My own beautiful, tender, loving mother used to love two perfumes: Cabochard by madame Gres and Dioressence by Christian Dior. She loved the exoticism, the mystery, the sillage, everything they entailed. And as my childhood was spent in close company to my mother and her many talented ways, those two have left an indelible print on the tracks of my mind. Despite the assertive character of those "barbare" scents, my mother was anything but and the juxtaposition only made the impression stronger, more fortissimo.
The memory of the sensual and yet reassuring way she smelled has me left with a desire to transfer this kind of olfactory fingerprint to my offspring some day as well: when I am long gone they will perhaps reminiscence about their mother in lacquered images of spicy Opium and think just how it was ingrained in my personality and aura.

Sadly, the perfumes posing as Cabochard and Dioressence today do not reflect but a mere spectre of the magnificence of the vintages that she used to wore all those years ago. The vagaries of fashion and the shortcomings of the industry have managed to ruin one of my most precious memories...

However to those of you who celebrate today (and you must be many!many wishes to you all) I can only wish that the olfactory visage of a loved one will stay with you for ever, as did my beloved mum's.




Pics courtesy of Parfum de pub.

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