Labdanum: an important material (in chypre fragrances & not only)

It is well known to our readers by now that chypre perfumes are dependent on a strict formula that juxtaposes bergamot and oakmoss, interlaying labdanum and other earthy elements such as vetiver or patchouli.
Perfume Shrine has already focused on oakmoss extensively (click for relevant article), so the other important material that needed tackling was labdanum. And so here we are today, trying to examine some of its facets.

First of all, what is it? It comes as a sticky dark brown resin exudate from two sources: from the shrubs Cistus ladaniferus (western Mediterranean) and Cistus creticus (eastern Mediterranean), both species of rockrose. Rockrose forms the Cistaceae (or rock-rose family), a rather small family of plants reknowned for their beautiful shrubs, covered by flowers at the time of blossom. It consists of about 170-200 species in eight genera and those are distributed primarily in the temperate areas of Europe and the Mediterranean basin, although they can be found in North and South America too in some instances. The flowers themselves have a faint odour and are not used in perfumery.

Labdanum is a natural oleoresin but it differs slightly from other oleoresins in that it contains more waxes and less volatile oil than most of the other natural oleoresins.

There is an ancient background to labdanum, as its etymology reveals: lôt in Hebrew (coming from a semetic root) which means resinous herb, ladunu in assyrian, lâdhan in Arabic, ledanon in Greek and ladanum/labdanum in Latin. Egyptians used it in their Kyphi mixtures whereas the Hebrews burned it in their temples as incense, so it had a ceremonial character.
It is even referenced in The Bible (as Balm of Gilead): The Ishmaelite caravan coming from Gilead to which Joseph was sold, was transporting labdanum (Genesis 37, 25). Subsequently, Jacob ordered his sons to offer labdanum, along with other local products, to their brother, now an Egyptian dignitary:

"And their father Israel said unto them, If it must be so now, do this; take of the best fruits in the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a little balm, and a little honey, spices, and myrrh, nuts and almonds."

(Genesis 43, 11) {found through Bible fragrances}.

It is believed that the above refers to the resin from the Pink Rockrose as "myrrh", although the two are not interchangeable. Myrrh per se is mentioned in the Bible (Psalm 45:8; Song of Solomon 4:14) and is believed to have been a mixture of natural myrrh (extracted from a tree in Africa and Arabia, like franckincense used to be got as well) and the oleoresin labdanum.

The Japanese use labdanum today in their Neriko mixtures, used during tea ceremony. The tradition is alive!

The use of ladbanum in medicine is well documented. Its high content in polyphenols makes it an excellent food supplement protecting the immune system.
In ancient times it was used for its properties of protection against bacteria and fungi.

It is suggested that the Pharaohs used fake beards made of goat hair (from animals that had grazed upon the resiny bushes) for that reason, but also to surround themselves with an aura of distinction.
Greek physician Hippocrates prescribed "myrrh" (the mixture of natural myrrh and labdanum, as above) for sores and the Romans used it to treat worm infestations, the common cold, coughs, and some infections. Up to 3000 tons of frankincense and myrrh were transported each year during the height of Nabataean trade!
According to Cocker, J. D.; Halsall, T. G.; Bowers, A. (1956). "The chemistry of gum labdanum. I. Some acidic constituents" (Journal of the Chemical Society: 4259-62) and II. The structure of labdanolic acid" (Journal of the Chemical Society: 4262-71):

Labdane is a natural bicyclic diterpene that forms the structural core for a wide variety of natural products collectively known as labdanes or labdane diterpenes. The labdanes were so named because the first members of the class were originally obtained from labdanum, a resin derived from rockrose plants."

while

A variety of biological activities have been determined for labdane diterpenes including antibacterial, antifungal, antiprotozoal, and anti-inflammatory activities.

(Studies in Natural Product Chemistry : Bioactive Natural Products, Part F, Atta-Ur-Rahman)

Theophrastus and Pliny mention labdanum as does Herodotus in his Historia, in the book "Thalia" (one of a total of 9,named after the Muses):

"Ledanum, which the Arabs* call ladanum, is procured in a yet stranger fashion. Found in a most inodorous place, it is the sweetest-scented of all substances. It is gathered from the beards of he-goats, where it is found sticking like gum, having come from the bushes on which they browse. It is used in many sorts of unguents, and is what the Arabs burn chiefly as incense.
Concerning the spices of Arabia let no more be said. The whole country is scented with them, and exhales an odour marvellously sweet."

{*please note that the Arabs referenced by Herodotus are ancient tribes inhabiting the region called Arabia and not today's islamic populace}.

But then why the confusion with opiates? The answer goes back to the Middle Ages and Paracelsus. A famous medical preparation of his own -which included gold, crushed pearls and other ingrendients (Opera, 1658, i. 492/2), but with opium as its chief component. Therefore the term is now used for the alcoholic tincture of opium (q.v.). The name was either invented by Paracelsus from Latin laudare (=to praise), or was a corrupted form of "ladanum" (from Persian ladan), a resinous juice or gum obtained from various kinds of the Cistus shrub, formerly used medicinally in external applications and as a stomach tonic." (Source 1911encyclopedia.org)


Labdanum's odour profile is highly complex. It is balsamlike, with woody, earthy, smoky, and even marshy undertones. Some even desrcibe it as ambergris-like, or leathery and honeylike with hints of plum or oakmoss after a rain. Usually it is referred to as ambery, but it is mostly used to render leather or ambergris notes, the latter especially after its ban on using the real animal-derived material, as there were concerns about the ethical production of it from sperm whales from which it originates (Ambergris is therefore very rare and costly if ethically harvested and is mostly synthesized in the lab. Please read this amber article for more info).

Its complexity is one of the reasons it has fascinated people since antiquity and it has been reported to affect the subconsious in profound ways. Its aromatheurapeutic value is that it is grounding, warming and sensual.

The method of extracting it is unusual and highly entertaing at that. Herodotus and Pliny report that labdanum was collected by combing the beards of goats, which were impregnated with the substance. The goats graze from the branches and the sticky resin gets stuck on their beards. Upon their return, their owners comb the resin our of their beards and extract the resin.

Also a rakelike instrument with long strips of leather attached to it, which they drag across the bushes to collect the resin, is used, called ladanesterion.
To this day labdanum is still gathered in Crete by driving goats into the thick forests overgrown with labdanum bushes. It is difficult work as it is best done in hot weather, under bright sunlight in the summer months. Sises is a Cretan village near Rethymnon, where such work is done to this day (coincidentally also the area from which El Greco/Dominikos Theotokopoulos comes).
You can read amazing detail on this matter on this site by Dimitris Niktaris: Labdanum Gr.

Today modern production is mainly concetrated in Spain and is done through easier means. However there is something to be said about the small, manual labour of cretan production that is of top quality.
The modern method involves boiling the leaves and twigs of this plant in water and the gum being skimmed off the surface and mixed with other resinous matter, which sinks to the bottom of the boiling water, as the resinoid is unsoluble in water. The extraction of the crude or cleaned labdanum gets done with a hydrocarbon solvent, whereas petroleum ether is being used increasingly because it yields a light amber resinoid which contains the most wanted odour principles in high concentration: cinnamon base - (isoeugenol) and labdanum resinoid. An absolute is obtained by solvent extraction whereas an essential oil is produced by steam distillation.

In perfumery it is used in many alloys, chypres notwithstanding and mixes well with hundreds of ingredients, interestingly one of which is lavender, another mediterranean herb.
Labdanum gum may contain up to 20% water, but this should be squeezed off or cautiously dried off. When in its fresh state, it is plastic but not pourable. It hardens on ageing, even to the point of becoming brittle. However if it is so at room temperature, it should be rejected as a starting material for the processing of labdanum derivatives.
Its shelf life is about 36 months and can be used in 10.0000 % in the fragrance concentrate.

One of the fragrances that focus on labdanum is Le Labo's Labdanum 18. Tagged as an enigma, to be used by both sexes, it focuses on the mysterious ambience that labdanum creates, fusing animalic and warm notes that meld on the skin.
Other fragrances that are rich with the note (but no guarantees on it always being naturally derived) are:
Donna Karan Essence Collection Labdanum ,Monia di Orio Lux, Dia for men by Amouage, L'eau Trois by Diptyque, Rien by Etat Libre d'Orange, Andy Tauer L'air du desert marocain ~Click for review~ (and reportedly it will feature in his Incense Duo as well), Patou pour Homme, Tabac Sport by Mäurer & Wirtz, Boucheron Pour Homme, Capucci Pour Homme, ST Dypont Signature pour homme, Eau Sauvage Extrême by Christian Dior, Whole Notes a floriental from Canadian perfumer Lyn Ayre of Coeur d’Esprit Natural Perfume, Prada, Prada Tendre and Prada Amber pour Homme, Mathew Williamson Incense, Ho Hang by Balenciaga, Jacques Bogart One man show, Ayala Moriel natural perfumes Ayalitta, Autumn and Democracy and Anya's Garden natural perfume Pan ~click for review~ that features real billy goat hair tincture.

Pics from bojensen.net, ladanisterion pic originally uploaded by labdanum.gr

Chypre series 6 ~Masculine chypres: does such a thing exist?

In this month of chypres examination and discussion, Perfume Shrine pondered on their origin, their composition, the modern variations, their aesthetics and the relation they have to the zeitgeist (Click on the links to go to respective subject).
It was about time we focused on the question whether there are indeed masculine fragrances that fall into this category of chypre.
The matter arises because most of the frequently mentioned chypre perfumes are feminine, if you think about it. We also attribute traditionally perceived feminine characteristics to them, such as elegance or sartorial sophistication (for some reason this wouldn't resonate with the Italian man, but I digress).
And the subcategories of floral or fruity within chypre often predispose one to think into such terms, although the seasoned perfumed lover is not restricted by such artificial limitations pertaining to gender.

Like we discussed before Chypre relies on the juxtaposition of bergamot and oakmoss, with the traditional inclusion of labdanum and usually of patchouli or vetiver. There is a comparable fragrance family for men, called Fougère (pronounced foozh-AIR), the French word for fern. In reality this is a fantasy accord because ferns have no real scent of their own. Fougère fragrances have fresh herbaceous notes, juxtaposing lavender with oakmoss on a fern-like base, with an element of Coumarin (the smell of freshly mown hay, naturally found in tonka bean, the seed of a West African tree which contains up to 40% of it).
Masculine fragrances have usually gone the route of the fougère when trying to recreate a forest floor impression instead of chypre, perhaps due to the fact that chypre perfumes have been marketed to women, or because they often included floral elements which are traditionally thought of as feminine in the 20th century (albeit not before!).

Classification is rather dubious territory, as there are countless exempla of diversifications according to the source. Open any guide or reference site and you will see the differences leaping to the eye. Therefore the following is only an attempt to examine whether there is any logical base in attributing scents to this or that odorous category.

For starters, the matter of whether leathery scents are a subdivision of chypres (as they do mostly contain the basic accord)or a seperate category termed Leather/Cuir (according to the French Society of Perfumers) is significant. Going by that leathery and oftentimes tobacco scents very often do smell rather more masculine; such as the various Cuir de Russie versions (Chanel, Creed, Piver etc), Miss Balmain and Jolie madame by Balmain, Caron's fierce Yatagan and smoky Tabac Blond , or Bandit by Piguet, lost semi-legend Jules by Dior and Bel Ami by Hèrmes. You will notice that there is a proliferation of both -marketed as- masculine and feminine scents in the above. Should we or shouldn't we classify them under chypre? The matter remains open for discussion.

Another cross-polination happens, involving woody undertones.
An example that would implicate those as well as a whiff of leathery castoreum is Antaeus by Chanel. Decidely butch, pheromonic almost and a powerhouse, it came out in 1981 by in-house perfumer Jacques Polge. It contains the pungency of male sweat and animalistic nuances with honeyed touches and much as I love it, I can't bring myself to don it on my person. The official notes listed (clary sage, lavender, myrrtle, labdanum, patchouli) do not include the classic accord of chypre despite the cool opening on an earthy animalistic background, yet one is hit with such a composition that might remind one of the family.
Shiseido's Basala is another one, as well as the original Armani Pour Homme.
There is some argument that coniferous elements such as pine essence as witnessed in Pino Sylvestre could be included in a subdivision of chypre.

The flip side of this confusion would be the lighter citrusy notes that might blurr the line between hesperidic and chypre. As chypre compositions contain a discernible citrusy pong via the inlusion of Calabrian bergamot, the notion isn't too far off.
Chanel Pour Monsieur could be such an example. Elegant, refined, conceived while Coco Chanel was still alive, it pays tribute to all the famous men she had known. Created in 1951 by Henri Robert, second nose in la maison Chanel after legendary Ernest Beaux, it plays on a sharp and clean citrusy top that includes lemon, petit grain (the essence rendered from the twigs and leaves of the Seville bitter orange tree, Citrus aurantium) and neroli (the distilled essence of the flowers). It then segues to spicy notes of cardamon and white pepper that invite you closer, only to end on a whiff of cedar and vetiver that retains freshness and discretion for the wearer. Perhaps citrus-aromatic would be a closer categorisation.

And there are various decidedly masculine propositions that reek of the pungency of patchouli and vetiver, notes that are so much used for the modern chypres of the last few years.

Givenchy Gentleman, which is sometimes described as a woody oriental, is a beast of a patchouli perfume that remains untamed even though its name would suggest hand kisses and opening doors for you. He does, but then ravages you, ripping your bra off.
The original Aramis for Men could be another case in point, especially given -again!- the suave name that would belie its intentions that open on a crisp note of artemisia and bergamot. It has of course intense woodiness too, thanks to sandal, but with the elements of a classic chypre in place as well. Coupled with a pinstripe suit it goes out to the City to trade stocks and in the lunch break goes off for supposedly a gym session that is in reality an illicit tryst.
Why do such powerful and assertive masculine fragrances are given names that imply a more gentle approach? This could be the subject of another post...


For the time being, please offer your suggestions on masculine chypres and the reason why you classify them thus.

Picsfrom parfumsdepub

Femme by Rochas: fragrance review and associations

There are times when I reflect upon a fragrance to realise that it has been painted by the brush of a rampant personality, bigger than life, more enduring than the everyday routine. And those precious, troubling fragrances make it to my heart almost without my consent. Femme by Rochas , the glorious classic chypre, is one such fragrance, if only because I had learned a long time ago by a journalist friend that it was the signature scent of Melina Merkouri. Even Melina's name fits the rapport: it means "honeyed". I hadn't experienced this classic yet and when I did it was with this knowledge at the back of my mind.

Melina was a Greek actress and politician, famous from the cradle almost as she was the grand-daughter of a well-known mayor and the wife of acclaimed franco-american McCarthy "victim" director Jules Dassin. And her passionate campaign for the return of the Elgin/Parthenon Marbles to their birthplace assured a fond place in our hearts for her.
Those who have known her or even glimpsed a bit into her intense, passionate life and personality cannot forget her, even though it's been more than a decade she has been dead.
And although Femme was perhaps the first decisive foray into gourmand territory (by its creator's own admission: "very gourmande, very patiserrie") with its delectable fruity notes of succulent plum and peaches, it rested them on a bed of rather poignant amber and oakmoss base with powdery touches that suggested the hardship of the time it was conceived: World War II.

There is dryness alongside the initial lemony aldehydic spike and you'd be hard pressed to dissect individual notes, as the symphony unfolds on your skin.
Edmond Roudnitska used a methyl ionone compound he had smelled inside a forgotten barrel at a paint factory beside which he had been working during the rationed days of the war in 1944 Nazi-occupied Paris; this is when couturier Marchel Rochas came to him commisioning him a feminine scent for his beautiful young bride Helene.
And this is what gives Femme its sugarplum quality that contributed to its copious sensuality, of which a glimpse can be taken by looking at the curvaceous bottle originally encased in a lace-interlayed box.

A sensuality that Melina was not devoid of. In one of her most memorable films, Phaedra by Jules Dassin, she co-starred with Perfume Shrine's long-time favourite Anthony Perkins, as the wife of a tycoon who falls in love with her stepson, perpetuating the ancient Greek myth of Hippolytos and Phaedra...a tale of love and death, ερως και θανατος, like all Greek tales...

Here is a telling clip, with music by Mikis Theodorakis:


(uploaded by creepgreen)

There is a quality of intense drama in her persona, her tall lithe body moving with the grace of a feline but also the full tragic demeanour of a Hecuba or a Clytemnestra, coupled with sensitivity and what you feel is denied tenderness.
Her huge black eyes, burning coal embers under a handful of blond hair stare at you like cosmic lights.
The following clip from the 1949 staging of the play "A Streetcar named desire", in which she sings "Paper Moon" by Manos Hadjidakis, embodying Blanche DuBois, is testament to her power of penetrative gaze that sears through your soul much like Femme does to mine.


(uploaded by florentine7)


Here is an English translation of the song lyrics:

The sea shall bring birds
and the wind shall bring golden stars
that will caress your hair
and kiss your hand.
Paper moon, fake beach
If you believed in me a bit,
everything would be real.
Without your love
time goes by fast
Without your love
the world becomes more bitter

Femme was re-orchestrated in 1989 by Olivier Cresp, interlacing a daring cumin note of feminine sweat in spun sugar and lightening up somewhat the earthiness of the base. The new version is very likeable to me with its profound cinnamon oiliness and a little clove of fondant brandied compote and the louder drum bass of the very familiar dense ambery base of the 80s. Although the older version (circa 1960) is more ladylike and reserved, much like Melina was provocative in her personal life but without promiscuity in her public persona, the modern Eau de toilette is the real luscious bombshell with raunchy tendencies minus the retro feel, whereas the modern Eau de Parfum is more demure, if such a notion is applicable to Femme, and also less spicy.

Last but not least, for the delectation of our French (and Greek) speaking readers, here is a clip Melina made for the French TV, in which she accompanies the composer Manos Hadjidakis on a poignant song about the death of another era, the escape into dream and the inevitability of the end.
The way Femme elected to live in my dreams forever...

The song is called Kyr Antonis (=mister Anthony)(uploaded by Florentine7).


Notes for Femme:Top: Peach, Plum, berbamot, rosewood, lemon
Middle: jasmine, may rose, ylang ylang, orris, clove
Base: patchouli, musk, amber, civet, oakmoss, vanilla, benzoin, leather.

Pics of Femme ads courtesy of parfumdepub

Interview with a perfumer: Jean Jacques

It is always a pleasure to come across a young person who is entangled in the web of perfumery. Jean Jacques is such a young frenchman who has been immersing himself in scent to piquant effect, all the more so because he is what the French call nez; a nose ~that is a perfumer.


Jean Jacques however begun his career as a musician (as did another nose, Annick Goutal), much as I myself did; albeit with classical studies, in contrast to his jazz inclinations. I have thus always felt that the world of music is not that far off from the world of perfume: similar language of notes, chords, accords and rhythm balance each other in both realms, where beauty and innovation reigns supreme ~or should, at any rate. Both worlds antagonistic, one acclaimed professional outdoing the other in agilité and power of expression. This common ground makes me somehow feel a kindred spirit in Jean and prompted me to seek out his views.

He was already an accomplished pianist by the age of 16. And then one of those milestone incidents happened, as it so often does in life, when a friend of his mentioned ISIPCA, the Versailles school of perfumery. Jean was competing for a place both in the Conservatory and in ISIPCA, but the latter won his heart in the end. His artistic inclination found fertile soil in the fragrant universe and he likes to play with materials like puzzle pieces that nevertheless leave an indelible print in our memory.
After securing his degree in Biochemistry he entered ISIPCA and practiced at Quest International, alongside revered noses Pierre Bourdon and Maurice Roucel in 1993. From then on, next year found him at Kao Corporation, learning to create formulae and ameliorating his technique, while finally at 1997 he came to Takasago group, one of the great perfume companies today, producing his intriguing and diverse creations: Balmya for Balmain, Absolutely Givenchy, Ted Lapidus Pour Homme,Colors of Love for Guerlain, the Masaki Matsushima line, Oriflame Divine and Amethyst Fatale(collaborating with Francis Kurkdjian on the latter), L'or de Torrente, Silver Shadow Altitude for Davidoff and Lacroix's C'est la Fête; as well as the more utilitarian but lovely fruity, beachy scent of the Gamme Solaire Expertise (sunscreen range) for L'Oreal. Let's not forget that Takasago is a flavour and scent company, producing myriads of aroma-materials for various products.

Asked on the future of fragrance notes for the upcoming seasons, he said:

"Given the number of new perfumes, l'd like to think that maybe ingredients will take more importance, as Dior Homme's success is showing us. The question is money: will clients give us the means to use expensive materials? Also, dont forget brands need to sell: fruity notes have proven addictive and they will certainly continue to be used a lot for our pleasure."

This might come as a disappointment to perfume lovers who have had enough of fruity notes, but he does have a point, I guess.


But, now a little playful game cum interview to shed some light into this dark and fetching Frenchman's tastes!

What is your most cherished fragrant memory?
My mother's nightgown which I used as a sheet to sleep on when I was little.

What's your favourite spice?
Cumin.

Your favourite colour?
The primaries: red, blue, yellow.

What music to prefer to listen to?
Keith Jarett and The Koln Concert.

Your favourite season?
Has to be summer.

Favourite time of the day?
Morning, around 10 o'clock.

Which country do you like best?
I love France.

And what city, if at all?
It's Tokyo. {this came as a surprise!}

Do you have an everyday indulgence?
Yes, as a matter of fact; driving while listening to great music.

Which alcoholic beverage do you prefer?
I drink champagne.

And your favourite dish?
It's fillet mignon.

Do you have an idol, someone you admire a lot?
I idolise Rachmaninoff.

Who wouldn't ask a perfumer what perfume he hasn't created himself he admires a lot...So which is it?
Aromatics Elixir by Clinique.

Do you have a dream you hope it gets realised?
They are too many to even mention, surely.

Ending on that note, I hope his dreams get realised and that we are the lucky recipients of his fragrant ones, incarnated in sprites coming lithely out of crystal bottles.

Next week we continue with the Chypre Series: we tackle feminine and masculine propositions, as well as an important material.


Pic of Notre Dame by Conor McGowan/flickr
Pic of piano by Doug McPherson/blog.

Amethyst Fatale by Oriflame: fragrance review

Has it ever happened to you to completely dismiss something new merely on the value of past experiences and then be proved wrong? Surely it has! This is what happened to me with the newest perfume by Swedish skincare and cosmetics brand Oriflame, concerning their newest release Amethyst Fatale. Although I have sampled many of their products, I had always assumed that their fragrances are second in hierarchy after their skincare which forms the lion's share of their revenue anyway. Experiences with their fleeting specimens also contributed to a nonchalant view towards sampling more of them. Because although many were decent enough, their lasting power left something to be desired, which hinted at a cost-effective management decision.
Not so with their latest however. The first in the so-called Gem Collection, a line of scents that aims to be inspired by gemstones (obviously a big trend now if one judges by the similar offerings by Bulgari, Olivier Dubrano and Lalique) and focus on the perfumers themselves instead of the celebritoid du jour, managed to convince me that it might be worth a shot sporting it from time to time, especially as it has been created by Jean Jacques (responsible for Balmya, most of the Matsushima Masaki scents and L'or de Torrente) with the collaboration of one of my favourite noses, Francis Kurkdjian. And lo and behold, compliments ensued. Not a bad start!

According to Cosmeticsdesign-europe.com:

Sweden-based firm's new perfume is not marketed on the pull of fast moving celebrities, but on the role the perfumer behind the scent.
"A key trend in the fragrance market is the rise of signature fragrances and Gem Collection is tapping into that trend," said a spokesperson for Oriflame .
In the case of Amethyst Fatale, the signatory is the creator of the perfume, the well known "nose" Jean Jacques.
Oriflame's decision to use Jean Jacques' signature to market the new fragrance represents a new take on the endorsement idea.
"Consumers are becoming more aware of the complexity of perfumery and so educated consumers are likely to be drawn to fragrances that are endorsed by experts rather than celebrities," said Briony Davies from Euromonitor.

Perfumer Jean Jacques attempted to translate the Amethyst gemstone into a scent whilst being guided by the image of the femme fatale whose arresting beauty and gaze makes you dive into "an unexpected world of passion and danger". To complete this task, Jean Jacques used the iris.
"I could imagine in the elegant odour of the iris: powdery, soft and caressing, all of which echo the amethyst," said Jacques.

Amethyst with its deep purple colour (although there is a green variety as well, called prasiolite) is considered to make the wearer calm and in control of his various emotional levels. Its name derives from the Greek amethystos/αμεθυστος which means sober and is traditionally linked to protection from intoxication and to those born in the month of February. But don't let that stop you!
Its mythological root lies in the tale of Dionysus, god of wine and celebration, who was insulted by a mortal who didn't acknowledge him. Enraged, he spotted a young maiden named Amethyst. The unsuspecting girl, on her way to pay tribute to the goddess Diana, was detained and two tigers were summoned by the god to devour the youth. Amethyst cried out to Diana in despair and the goddess quickly transformed the young mortal into a glimmering white stone (known as “quartz”) to protect her. When he realized his wrongdoing Dionysus wept tears of wine onto the stone staining it purple, creating the gem we know today as amethyst.
Lovely tale, isn't it?


Iris and the colour purple are very au courant these days as well and with the charmingly pleasant experience of Prada Infusion d'Iris and the less exciting Iris Ganache by Guerlain in my short-term memory banks, I set out to explore another iris-based scent. This time it involved the smooth ambience of the modern chypre, a concept on which I talked in detail before.
Amethyst Fatale promises "pure fragrance intoxication. Combining warm amber notes with powdery iris and lush rose, this unpredictable scent refuses to be forgotten" according to Oriflame.

As I open the little glass vials of Eau de Parfum available for sampling, the impression of a chiaroscuro patchouli composition is greeting me with a wink. The feeling is far removed from the headshop and into the protection of clothes from moths, as was one of its primal uses. You can almost feel the tactile sensation of soft wools caressing your cheek as you open up an armoire with plush knits. Its crushed powder is gently folded in rosy liquid that recalls damp earth as if rained upon with the echo of distant thunder. The marriage of rose to patchouli is cemented in tradition but with the flair of a first-throes passion, as those two amorous lovers adore bringing each other's best points out: patchouli making the rosy petals unfurl indefinetely, mellowing them and anchoring the feminine smell; rose caressing the green leaves and rendering them softly powdery.
Francis Kurkdjian is of course famous for his modern rendition of roses -and abstract floral notes in general- such as in Guerlain'sRose Barbare, Ferre Rose, Narciso For Her or the re-issued Rumeur by Lanvin. And here I can see the mentor's influence.

The iris part might be contributing to the earthy feel I get as well, although to my nose this is not a predominantly iris scent, but rather a palimpsest. There is an element of powdery tonality that reminds one of white musks as used in popular renditions lately, as well as the slightly woody and vanillish whiff of benzoin. The impression is never too sweet and in that regard it is infinitely superior to most things currently put on a pedestral on perfume-store shelves and certainly to Armani Code whose bottle it might be argued that it vaguely reflects.
As it exits the scene in lento moves it does so with the gentle refinement of a lady who is assured of her attractiveness enough not to assume poses and goes for the subtle approach of white silk underwear instead of racy red lace.


Oriflame is available in European countries and overseas in the Americas and Asia, but not in the United States.
So, for our readers in the US I have a couple of samples I would be glad to offer if they enter a comment that they would like to receive one. Hurry while the offer lasts!

Stay tuned for an interview with Jean Jacques next!
Ad pic from Oriflame, ring pic courtesy of askDaveWest