Tuberose Gardenia by Estée Lauder Private collection: fragrance review

Coming across the new Tuberose Gardenia by Estée Lauder was not an accident. It was thanks to a very thoughtful person who was able to obtain a precious sample for me and sent it against all odds for my tentative sampling. Gratitude is in order.

No hesitation was necessary on my part, though, regarding testing the elusive jus that is featuring as the first stepping stone on the new Private Collection by Estée Lauder, a line that will be positioned between niche and mainstream: limited distribution on the one hand (Neiman Marcus, Saks, Bergdorf Goodman, Holt Renfrew), but relatively sane prices on the other. The concept was masterminded by Aérin Lauder, the granddaughter of ingenious Estée, who is working as Creative Director of the huge brand. The name Private Collection recalls the cool upscale scent of tennis lawns and cool drinks sipped at a Hamptons party that Estee herself called her own and which Grace Kelly admired and asked to partake in, to great aplomb. That scent featured all the aloofness of an east coast heiress and a sophistication that befitted the empress of a multimillion company such as Lauder. Tuberose Gardenia is a different animal, nevertheless.

As I opened the carded sample, spraying with eager, childish anticipation the pale yellow liquid, with its shimmering gold cap, I was immediately reminded of a favourite literary accompaniment to my teenager escapades pertaining to summer. It is a book involved in a strange ritualistic process which I am not ashamed to share with you. With each passing summer in the course of my life so far, this book has been my introduction to the joys and anticipations of a summer spent in the sensuous atmosphere of southern Europe. A book that keeps me young at heart. Every June it gets pulled off the shelf to rapidly leaf through it and remind myself of the hopes and longings of its precious characters of three teenager girls, who search for their inner core through the little adventures of first loves and self-discovery in the milieu of then rural, now uptown suburb of Kiffisia, where they are vacationing with their divorced mother, their artistic and pretentious aunt and their dotting but love-hurt grandfather through three consecutive summers.
The book is called "Three Summers"/"The straw hats" (the latter is the literal translation from Greek) by Margarita Lymperaki, a Francophile Greek writer.
Please read a bit about it courtesy of boutique.info-grece.com:

"That summer we bought big straw hats. Maria's had cherries around the rim, Infanta's had forget-me-nots, and mine had poppies as as fire. When we lay in the hayfield wearing them, the sky, the wildflowers, and the three of us all melted into one..."
"Three Summers" is the story of three sisters growing up in Greece: their first loves, lies, and secrets, their shared childhood experiences and their gradual growing apart. Maria, the oldest, is strong, sensual, keenly aware of society's expectations. Infanta is beautiful, fiercely proud, aloof. Katerina is spirited, independent, off in a dream world of her own. There is also the mysterious Polish grandmother, the wily Captain Andreas, the self-involved Laura Parigori... Katerina tells the story of these intertwined lives with imagination, humour, deep tenderness, and a certain nostalgia. "Three Summers" is a romance with nature, with our planet. It is the declaration of a young girl in love with life itself.

The book is available here.

Tuberose Gardenia reminded me of exactly that book. There is an innocence and a wiling beauty in it simultaneously. It encompasses elements of all three girls, as it smells fresh, creamy, soft and inviting, yet also assured and independent.

White florals are an agony, an ache, an olfactory rape almost. They tend to grab you and place their hooks on you or else repel you and make you coil in desperation.
As Colette famously wrote:

"She, the tuberose. She would set off on the sirocco wind, cross the road, force open my door with all her flowerly might and softly climb the stairs...a cloud of dreams burst forth and grows from a single, blossoming stem, an unthreatened peace"

And gardenia, with its elusive white creamed clotted density amidst green buds rotting ever so sweetly on the jacket lapel of a dark handsome stranger who is meant to sweep you off your feet, is the flower of spiritual surrender.
Those two voluptuous blossoms dominate the heart and soul of Lauder's new fragrance, never betraying their nature, yet remaining ever soft and very wearable, unlike the olfactory typhoon of assertive Fracas. An initial fresh opening that is reminiscent of lemon groves overlooking countryhouses where potted tuberoses are kept takes you on a journey to an inner closed court with a fountain, Moor-style, where gardenias are kept in big pots. Their aroma mingling night and languor, beckoning you, beguiling you. The gardenia accord smells surprisingly true in this. There is no tropical ambience a la Carnal Flower by F.Malle, a tuberose with which I am nevertheless flirting shamelessly, nor is there the airiness of the lighter Do Son by Diptyque which is more suited to the intense heat of late summer.
Tuberose Gardenia combines freshness and ever so slight spicy richness in linear laps of sillage-worthy swims into a vat of smooth vanillic cream.

Official notes:
neroli, lilac, rosewood, tuberose, gardenia, orange flower, jasmine, white lily, carnation and vanilla bourbon.

Tuberose Gardenia launches in August and will be available in bottles of Eau de Parfum in 30/1oz or 75ml/2.4oz and Parfum extrait of 30ml/1oz in a beautiful bottle of gold bearing gems encrusted to it, which has been inspired by a Josef Hoffmann jewel brooch.
The line is to be completed by a Body cream and a solid perfume.
Click here to see the beautiful packaging.


Pic originally uploaded on MUA by lipslikesugar, pic of gardenia originally uploaded by Indie perfumes blog

The Agony and the Ecstasy part3: Fetish in fragrance

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Agony and the Ecstasy part2: control and surrender in fragrance

Continuing from yesterday’s post, today we occupy ourselves with the matter of control versus surrender as manifested in matters of relationships as well as sensual escapades that pertain to olfaction.

The amount of control we exercise in indulging our fragrant desires is not proportionate to the pleasure thus derived. On the contrary it varies according to the occasion and circumstances. Although usually control is assumed to be a desirable quality and one that is highly regarded, especially in western society with its competitive background, it is often that it also acts as a binding force that ties us to refusal of sensuous pleasure. The latter could be best arrived at through surrender to stimuli that have or have not been chosen by us in the first place. Imagine the surprising whiff of baking goods when walking past a bakery or the intoxication of smelling a familiar aroma on a stranger passing us on the street. Those are instances in which our degree of control of what we perceive is close to nil. Yet we derive pleasure from them.
Of course one could very well argue that the reverse is also within the sphere of probability. A close encounter with a smell that has foul associations in our mind makes the proximity with the vessel that perpetuates it insufferable, a true torture. In those instances we would dearly wish that we could exercise control over what we actually smell.
Surrender also has a somewhat fatalist tone to it, as if there is some predestined course of events, a kismet that accounts for our experiences instead of us shaping our present and future. The matter quickly becomes philosophical, which is perhaps beyond the scope of this post.

If we were to investigate cinematic examples of this conflict we revert to the 1960s classic by Spanish master director Luis Buñuel “Belle de jour”.
In it Catherine Deneuve stars as Séverine, the repressed wife of Pierre, an upper class doctor; sexually frigid with him, yet harbouring fantasies of a sadomasochistic nature which lead her to become a day-time high class prostitute in a posh brothel run by a knowledgeable French woman. There her fantasies take shape and form, although often following alternative avenues that include Chinese sex toys, assimilated necrophilia and voyeurism. However, although Séverine would like to act out her fantasies with her husband whom she loves, she capitulates to men to whom she is indifferent to in a surrender of the senses that satisfies some inner need that cannot be met in her bourgeois existence. Her rencontre with a criminal youth and also with an acquaintance who exerts control over her in daring tones –as he is intrigued by her iciness which he hopes to shatter- in her regular impeachable life will forever alter her cosmos and make her the victim or the culprit of fate.
As the director himself said:

"All my life I've been harassed by questions: Why is something this way and not another? How do you account for that? This rage to understand, to fill in the blanks, only makes life more banal. If we could only find the courage to leave our destiny to chance, to accept the fundamental mystery of our lives, then we might be closer to the sort of happiness that comes with innocence."

The whole layout of the film exploits many ideas that pertain to youth (the distinct innocence of youth preyed on by the older, more experienced man played by Michel Picolli); to class and elegance of a bourgeois aesthetic (the impeccably decked in Yves Saint Laurent couture Séverine wearing Roger Vivier classic buckle low pumps is a fashion plate for eternity); to fantasy vs reality (what is true and what happens inside Séverine’s head? The end is particularly ambiguous). The viewer is left to decide for themselves interpreting clues any way they choose. This is especially evident in the scene in which a client at the brothel brings a Chinese box to use, upon perusing which all the other girls shudder except for Séverine who remains fascinated. Asked on what the box included the director was quick to comment that there was no point in it containing anything in particular, as the scene was meant to signify the vast difference of mentality between the heroine and the other girls.

One particularly brilliant moment that pertains to perfume and our issue is the scene in the bathroom when Séverine accidentally smashes a big bottle of Mitsouko by Guerlain before she sets out to spend the afternoon at the brothel. (It can be seen in the trailer attached below, clicking on the screen). The bottle is in the big round style with the pyramid stopper that was quite popular all through the Sixties.


Mitsouko is a perfect example of a scent that is implicated in sex and the issues of control vs surrender. Much like the literary heroine that inspired its name (the Japanese girl in the novel “La Bataille”) it has a rich heart and sensual base that extol an animalic presence of labdanum and the earthiness of oakmoss and vetiver which combine to give the more ethereal elements of floral notes a subversive mantle. Although Mitsouko has all the pedigree of a well brought up upper-class lady, this is only the surface which one could easily scrape to find a ferocious needy sensuality about to manifest itself in surprising throes.

Another one of Catherine Deneuve’s brilliant roles in a film by the same director is “Tristana”, a different take on the issues of control vs surrender. The setting in this one is quite different than the rich upscale Parisian apartment of Séverine that makes us dream of an idle pampered existence that is laced with naughty fantasies. Instead Tristana is a poor orphan girl in a Spanish village trust into the care of an older gentleman, the respected due to his honorable nature (despite his socialistic views about business and religion) Don Lope. Nevertheless the one flaw of Don Lope is his weakness towards women and he seduces Tristana, all the while saying that she is as free as he is. He will have to face the consequences though, when she in turn acts on this freedom, when -upon becoming his wife- she tortures and humiliates the husband she despises.
The subjects of fascism vs socialism, old age, Catholicism and sex are relentlessly explored and in the end the innocent girl becomes a cynical wile woman who believes in nothing any more while the worldly Don Lope played by Fernando Ray becomes rather belatedly the father figure that Tristana needed in the first place. As he reaches the peace he was pursuing all along he exclaims 'It's snowing so hard outside, but in this house, I'm nice and warm. What's there not to be happy about?' It is poignant that he recognizes only too late that acceptance, surrender to the course of life is a surer way to inner peace than struggling to impose one’s will.

Watch the "Tristana" trailer clicking on the screen.


Because to my mind there is an inherent melancholic touch to what I interpret as the loss of innocence, the perfume that I would choose to anoint the beautiful Tristana with is none other than L’Heure Bleue by Guerlain. One of their great classics, issued in 1912, it was inspired by “the blue hour”, that magical moment when the sun has set, but the sky hasn’t yet found its stars, when the odour of flowers intensifies.
Wearing L'Heure Bleue is like partaking in a secret rite of passage that an innocent soul goes through to meet their unintended destiny, just like Tristana in her quest for true love. The bittersweet smell of aniseed is the poignant thread that travels through the journey of life, full of experiences, full of disappointments that make the heart strings ache. Cloves and powdery heliotrope providing the backdrop of a darker theme, while the heady damascene rose and jasmine shine as the memorable sweet moments of happiness found adrift an existence that exerts no control over facts. As the scent of L'heure bleue unfolds, you are left with an impression of rejection, of refusal, of an idealism that is crashed by the vagaries of life that makes me inwardly sigh for all the lost causes and dreams that might have been.
It is also one of Catherine Deneuve's personal choices of perfume in her vast wardrobe of fragrances and I can very well see how she might be partial to its soft caress that whispers of times past.

Next post will persist in this genre with more perfume references. Stay tuned!


Pics from film Belle de Jour courtesy of toutsurdeneuve. Portrait of Deneuve by Raymond Darollet courtesy of Toutsurdeneuve. Clips from Youtube

The Agony and the Ecstacy part1: sadomasochism in fragrance

The rather outré title of this new latest series on Perfume Shrine is not meant as a direction to non-perfume venues of a niche of a quite different nature than that of the likes of afficionados of Lutens or Malle. Because here we will most certainly include perfume references by those two and lots of others, exploring just how certain scents play up on our subconscious and produce feelings of sensual surprise, olfactory submission and adoring intimidation or on the contrary a heightened sense of domination over all we survey.
If only Le Marquis and Leopold von Sacher had explored those avenues more fully.

Before we proceed any further, please note that the following are musings and thoughts that do not bind the author and are not meant to condone or approve of any practice or misunderstanding that you might have in mind. (This disclaimer of sorts is necessary to include because the term has been so much abused and tied to issues that are peripheral to it that it has gained a reputation that is inaccurate).

Perfume is fantasy. It has a weird effect on the psyche. And tied as it is to memory and sexuality it brings out elements of both to the fore, whether we desire it or not. Of course apart from the infamous Hirsch studies on what scents arouse and attract the opposite sex ~which are the matter of Googling searches all the time~ more importantly there is the element of how a particular fragrance makes the wearer themselves feel. This is the apex of the matter to my mind. Because perfume is so often worn for the enhancement of a mood or the desire to extol certain properties of the individual's personality, how one perceives said personality or mood is paramount when choosing what to wear. So a perfume with innocent, cherubic ambience would be more likely to evoke or pronounce a mood of traditionally viewed submissive femininity whereas a butch leather would reinforce the notion of a dominating persona. Or even the reverse if one is playing with boundaries and values the element of surprise!
Therefore are there specific perfumes that explore those pathways of the mind and playfully twist and turn them upside down for a perfume lover's rejoice? I think there are.

As cinematic experiences are so often deeply ingrained into Perfume Shrine, the quintessential film that displays the weird dynamic of an S/M relationship resplendent with a couple of perfume references is none other than "Il Portiere di Notte"/"The Night Porter"(1974) by Liliana Cavani featuring exquisite actors and personal favourites Dirk Bogarde and Charlotte Rampling. The film tells the tale of an ex-Nazi who falls in love with one of the Holocaust victims as many years later, both alive ~she, Lucia, a married woman; he, Max, a night porter~ they meet again at a Vienna hotel and reprise their strange affair surrounded by a hostile former Nazi crowd who seeks to gain power again with Max's assistance.
The doomed relationship of the two lovers reflects both aspects of control and surrender in alternating roles of great cinematic value. And although the mere thought of the Holocaust is assuredly distressing, the film manages to be respectful of the issues raised and focus on the personal angle rather than the historical repercussions.
You can watch a superb clip of it clicking on the screen or clicking here.


For an elaborate and long piece of how a viewer interprets the storyline I direct you to this post by The Scented Salamander.
Succinctly put:

Perfumes in Night Porter appear to be used to express ideas about sexuality, class, and inter-subjective relationship. Perfumes here, instead of elevating and idealizing the characters, making them appear more desirable and noble, are brought in to express not love, but prostitution, not attraction, but repulsion, not refinement but coarseness, not harmony, but destruction, not love, but a pathological manifestation of it.

There is also this link that mentions it in the context discussed.

Indeed perfumes in this film are seen through an altered lens and make us view scent as a means of control, rejection, social climbing or even manipulation and domination. It is an interesting axe to grind and worth pondering on.
So what would the ex-Nazi in hiding wear or the beautiful formerly submissive Lucia who reprises her role with a twist of unexpected ferocity?

As leather has been so ingrained into associations with S/M and isobutyl quinoline is the main ingredient used to render leather notes in perfumery, apart from the natural process of curing birch tar, I would propose Knize Ten for the character of Max. The fact that it comes from as far back as 1924 and Vienna in particular did not escape my attention either and may have contributed to this choice.
The history of Messrs. J. Knize dates back to 1858, based in Vienna. Within a little while fashion tailor J. Knize was appointed purveyor to K&K Royal Court and by the turn of the century many famous people, heads of states, artists, and industrialists were clientele to Knize. During the 1920s Knize's boutiques for men were established in the fashion cities of Paris, New York, London and Berlin. Although other scented offerings by Knize have been discontinued the iconic perfume remains still in production.
The fragrance is immediately redolent of raw cured leather that is pitch-black and tight, fits like a glove and is stained with the old fashioned aroma of smoke and a bit of turpentine. This shocking introduction laced with citrusy notes is testament to the power and suggestion such a smell holds over willing subjects. Woody and floral notes of subtle spiciness tone down this perverse beast resting it on a slightly powdery and incensy drydown that surprises yet again with its unexpected twists. Max in it would exude all the force of his uniformed days, when he could chop off the head of a prisoner who bothered his lover and present it John-the-Baptist-like to his own Salome. And yet he would also hide the pain that we can see in his eyes as he realises that there is no future for them, when they dare to exit the bastion of their seiged apartment towards dawn.

And Lucia would be sublime wearing none other than the infamous, the exquisite, the jarringly sexy beauty of Tubéreuse Criminelle (=criminal tuberose) by Serge Lutens.
Its reputation precedes it as people either love it or hate it but they all remain astounded by the sheer innovation of it at the time it first launched, directing others into exploring difficult notions of bracing top notes that might shock and disturb. A scent that is definitely meant for people into a certain degree of sadomasochism, as the opening note of mentholated Vicks rub hits your nostrils with the ferocity of a typhoon to subside after a little while into an armload of rubbery tuberose married to soft spoken buttery lilies. A soothing, warm, human caress after the sting of pain.
Comparable to what Jean Cocteau had said about Marlen Dietrich and her name: "Starts with a caress; ends with a whipstroke". But in reverse. Which makes it eminently suitable...


Next post will continue with more perfume and film suggestions on the naughty path. You have been warned!

Top pic courtesy of sadist.gr Clip comes from Youtube. Pic of Knize Ten comes from basenotes.net. Pic of Charlotte Rampling from charlotterampling.net

Benefactor from Parfums d'Armando Martinez: fragrance review

There is an underappreciated quality when judging perfume, especially among people who love it. That quality is wearability.
It might sound like a dirty word when every other fragrance release from the major companies is akin to putting on a mass-marketed piece of clothing that is being produced in Bangladesh, bearing the insignia of a well-known commercial designer no less. But I assure you that wearability is much more than what meets the eye. It is precisely this quality, often elusive in the niche arena of scents, that accounts for the success of Armando Martinez's perfumes.

From his first foray into Perfume Shrine with the powdery rose and violet honeyed tones of Maquillage, to his masterpiece aldehydic, pearly white floral Pillow of Flowers, Armando has been playing with good quality natural ingredients and aromachemicals that are blended in an ultimate caress of softness and plushness that would never alienate the lover of pleasant aromas. His creations do not lack uniqueness and to wit one could very well mention the mould-breaking herbal Satyr which is certainly different and stranger than most similar attempts on the market. Yet even then, there is a base element that ties loose ends with a pacifying tone like a familiar lullaby one has been carrying in one's mind since childhood.

And it is in this context that Armando's latest fragrance, a shared scent that can be worn by both sexes, Benefactor, is entering the scene; a glimpse of Salome's veils for the delectation of oriental lovers everywhere.

"Benefactor, a scent that envelopes the wearer in a cloak of roses, vanilla and agarwood. A modern take on the age old arabic perfume. An oriental that is unisex.
Benefactor's notes include: bergamot, camphor, turkish rose, saffron, vetiver, atlas cedarwood, vanilla, and agarwood".

(quote from Armando Martinez site).

Although a camphoric opening might predispose one for The Agony and the Ecstasy of none other than the perverse beauty of Tubereuse Criminelle by Lutens or even his equally strange yet lovely Borneo, in Benefactor the effect is subdued and short-lived enough to not jolt you into shock, yet challenge the nostrils with its peculiar aroma paired with a little culinary saffron, that spice that colours Middle Eastern dishes with its rich golden hues. As the camphoric note dissipates, a sweet and powdery rosiness like that in loukhoums emerges swan-down like from the mélange of notes with a little vanillic underscoring. At this stage the cosiness and softness is eminently beautiful without ever becoming insipid, with agarwood/oudh, that weird wood also appearing in the comparable Black Aoudh by Montale, so prized in arabian perfumery, playing the role of basso continuo all the while; providing the austere backdrop that veers the whole into the unisex universe of scents.
A simple composition that never loses its charm, it has the benefit of making one feel at once warm, cuddly and familiar with just the right touch of opulence, daydreaming of a harem in the Arabian Nights.

If interested in purchasing a 2 ounce spray bottle or requesting samples, Mando is charging $65.00 a bottle for each of his creations, directly from his site: Click here.
They are currently for sale also in Europe on First in Fragrance/Aus liebe zum Duft website. Click here for details.

Painting of Harem comes from travelinstyle.com