What the Flu Taught Me

~You never know how important your nose is until you lose its contribution to your everyday existence. This bout of the flu began with a scratchy throat and some fever. It progressed into a congestion to end all congestions that made the head weight a ton and made every food taste like cardboard. Yeah, flavour really is a combination of taste buds and smell perception. Try it: pinch your nose and eat a slice of apple and then a slice of potato. Told you...

~Taking a really hot bath is not to be underestimated in any season: there is nary an ailment it doesn't alleviate to some degree. Using some Perlier Honey Bath with Royal Gelee makes it an indulgence with its creamy, sudsy, pampering lather and the 1L bottle makes a statement in the bathroom. They also do a killer Almond bath cream for people who like that sort of thing, although my personal favourite of the scented varieties is the Vetiver.

~I have been using A Perfect Wold white-tea antioxidant serum by Origins for the flakies around the nose these past few days and it worked well (The fact that it contains some silicone helped). This is a product that actually smells very good, exactly because of the cornucopia of natural essences in high percentages included (such as rosa damascena flower water, bitter orange flower water, spearmint leaf oil , vetiver root oil, plumeria extract and frankincense). Of course my congested nose didn't perceive any of the smell or lack thereof at that point, but I did know it from before. It's something one might keep a supply of at home for such cases. I hear they are giving a free one-week supply of the new Dr. Andrew Weil Plantidote Mega Mushroom Treatment Lotion with any $25 purchase (free shipping included till Mar30), so now is the time I guess.

~Last but not least: it is essential for emergencies like this to know what fragrance to fall upon, for the sake of others in your entourage, if not for yourself. After the first couple of days I couldn't really smell much, so it was more of a mechanical than gratifying act, but Kelly Calèche by Hermès ensured that at least I smelled pretty and not offensively loud (it's so easy to overapply when one's nose is semi-working) to visiting doctors and family.

May you never need the tips!


Pic from the Perlier site

Check back later for A SURPRISE! Something that will be the talk of the town makes an appearence on Perfume Shrine first!

Scents the Wind Got: a Joint Project from 2 sides of the World

We were having a discussion with Gaia, the Non-Blonde, the other day, about one of our common passions: cinema. And one of the epics that marked it has been Gone with the Wind, the adaptation of the Margaret Mitchell novel which spans almost two decades surrounding the American Civil War. Both being fans of the novel, as well as of the 1939 film, we got the idea to tackle it in olfactory terms: after all it is so rich in the smell of nostalgia, of a past long gone, of youth misspent and maturity gained with hardship. It was bound to appeal to our sensibilities.

I recall when as a very young teenager I got the two thick, heavy volumes of the novel. It was a stark difference from all the heavies I had been immersing myself to read as a nerd trying to "complete" her education on classics: Dostoevsky, Camus, Joyce, Satre and all those good people. Nerds do leaf through Cosmopolitan as well though ~I am living proof of it!~ and it was on its spread with curly-tressed Andie MacDowell in which a lazy summer reading suggestion included "Gone with the Wind". Southern Belles always held a fascinating appeal to my European soul: they were warm, hospitable, giving yet stealthy and reminded me very much of the women of my own culture. Scarlett promised to be the "bad", naughty girl anyone was dreaming of emulating. Watching Vivien Leigh impersonate her was the final straw: she was a vision in that dark burgundy dress at Ashley's party, referencing the Scarlet woman...I sincerely developed a girl-crush!

The title is taken from the 1st line of the 3rd stanza of the Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynaraepoem by Ernest Dowson:

"I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind."

And indeed the novel and film speak of times gone by and with them the innocent aroma of carefree youth. It was also intriguing that there was an undercurrent of dubious sociological belief in designated tasks for certain classes and certain people in antebellum South, to which my idealistic youth protested against. Men and women of colour were treated in a weird way throughout the novel: on the one hand to be trusted and confided to in an endearing way (Mammy was such an adorable character!), on the other it seemed like there was the implied idea that their place was specific (slavery) and it should have remained so for the sake of the good old days! "How stupid Negroes were! They never thought of anything unless they were told." Scarlett said at one point. The duality found me awashed with emotion and intellectual turmoil.

Through the pages there are so many smells that reminded me of languid springs and summers of a sub-tropical nature: The lush magnolia trees whose petals were white, soft and waxy like the porcelain skin of Scarlett. The Twelves Oaks plantation of Ashley Wilkes (such an imposing name for one!). The sweet yams and sweet potatoes prepared by Mammy, Scarlett's nanny. The preparations for the spring barbecue under the trees and the rest of the girls before the ball: I seem to recall there was a description of the smell of the room as being scented with powder and young girly flesh. The Peach Tree street in Atlanta where the protagonists were forced to move when they left the plantation in Tara. Scarlett gurgling with Cologne to hide her drinking from Rhett Butler, the debonair scoundrel who proves he has a heart of gold after all and most of all for Scarlett and the daughter they will have later on. And of course the gunpowder and the smell of the sick-room when war strikes in Atlanta as well and they have to return to a derelict Tara. The odour of death, the odour of famine and destruction, the tobacco pipe aroma of Scarlett's not-all-there father as they return, the smell of the slow realization that the pampered life they knew is there no more... Oh, yes, it is full of all those things.



And then there is the wonderful movie-buff trivia of Clark Gable wanting to irritate Vivien Leigh (because she got the part that was to go to Carole Lombard) by eating raw onions before every kissing scene they shared. Not to mention his being a heavy smoker. But then Vivien reputedly smoked four packets a day during the entire shoot! Naughty boy Clark surprised Hattie McDaniel (Mammy) as well when he poured her real alcohol instead of the usual tea while filming the rejoice scene after the birth of Bonnie!

As the characters evolve I imagine their scent choices would as well. It's not something that is referenced in the book, merely a fancy of my fevered imagination.

Melanie and Ashley both resonate with a quiet dignity, characters that are not prone to externalize their feelings with as much demonstration. Their natural class and insistence in impracticality is their adherence to the old ways of life.
Melanie Wilkes is such a true lady, revered for her kindness as well as her loyalty, that I cannot help seeing her in something other than a classic cologne in the English tradition: the scent of Bluebell by Penhaligon's or Lily of the Valley by Floris can be the perfect background to her restrained, yet majestic stance throughout the plot.
Ashley Wilkes could also be the embodiment of monogrammed slippers, with a scent choice to match. While vintage Creed Tabarome would be great for Scarlett's Irish father, Gerald, it's Ashley whom I see in the pristine Green Irish Tweed. It only serves to pronounce everything that is aloof, slightly shy and introvert about him. A fragrance like an armour of respectability. And yet there are traits of turbulent emotion there, which reveal themselves when he is forced to earn a living in Tara or under Scarlett's employment: his broken pride would be echoed by something as deep yet poignant asEquipage.

Rhett is such a cocky fellow it's hard to peg him: his debauchery and encounters with prostitutes with a heart of gold like Belle Watling make one think that he would go for something boozy with a devil-may-care air: Idole de Lubin would suit him. Or for his sexy, intense side L'instant pour Homme could be a wonderful choice to get Scarlett's and all the ladies' pants on fire! I would love to think that along with the ruffly petticoat he gifted her with, he gave cologne to Mammy as well: sweet orange blossoms or lilies for her endearing nature would be what would warm her heart.
And what would Belle Watling actually wear herself? Probably a rich white floral to leave a trail behind: her hair was obviously painted, the ladies gossiped, and she wore rouge. If Carolina Herrera existed back then I could see her swamped in its exotica.

Scarlett intrigues with her numerous facets. I would have loved to designate her Keiko Mecheri's Scarlett, if only because of the name: "dramatic dance of lively spices" is not a bad description of her character either, but it is not meant to be. To me, Scarlett begins her adventures as a girl full of feminine guiles, full of the scents of her paternal home: the rich magnolias, the mimosa, the comfort of the embrace of her beloved mother whom she loses so early. L'artisan's Mimosa pour Moi has the bright sunny disposition she displays at the start of the story, warm, milky and sweet with just a little headstrong strain underneath.
As she becomes the disillusioned widow for the first time, crying face down for her spent youth and the loss of her childhood dreams, I still imagine her smelling of a creamy magnolia, like Magnolia Dolce by I Profumi di Firenze or Magnolia Pourpre by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier: only her demeanour wouldn't be as gay. As plans to take over Tara engulf her and she is desperate to succeed as a business woman, her smell would be stricter, more controlled, more abstract. I think that an old-fashioned mossy affair such as Ma Griffe means business, yet still smells like a young lady. And finally when she become Mrs.Rhett Butler with a desire to show off her nouveau-wealth replete with jeweled baubles she would opt for an entrance-making scent, more famous for its price tag than its intrinsic value such as Clive Christian: the costliest money can buy, so people can eat their hearts out!
What scent would adorn her repentant visage as she cries in the final scene is any one's guess. That mix of irrational optimism and hearty abandon is a rare cinematic gem to be treasured and I would love to hear your opinions on this one.


Be sure to check out The Non-Blonde for her take on Gone with the Wind scent associations.

Pic of Vivien Leigh with her straw hat originally uploaded on POL. Pic of Clark Gable from yahoo.movies. Pics of Leslie Howard and Olivia de Havilland through Wikimedia Commons. Clip originally uploaded by iluvsoaps on Youtube.

The Essence of Woman?

I consider myself rather cynical at times, although idealism is not lacking in my psyche. But coming from an old civilization who has gone through just about anything on god's green earth, I thought I had seen it and heard it all; at least by osmosis, through tales of elders. How wrong was I! Apparently in the perfumery stakes I am but a mere novice who has not really thought of the potential of raw animal power in concentrated form!

The first time this new perfume came to my ears I thought it was a spoof. The second mention rang bells of pseudo-intellectualism. I hadn't hit the links to see that it is an actual product for sale. Perfume Shrine in its eternal quest for pure journalism had to investigate.
I soon found out others had similar reactions to mine. And people on the street had even more spontaneous reactions.
The perversely fascinating concept is hiding on this site. Enter at your own peril! Tom Ford has nothing on this one!
The fact that the company is based in Cologne, the town of the famous Eau de Cologne which gave its name to the whole bunch of aromatics is just proof that God does have a sense of humour after all...

Pic courtesy of Athinorama. No real animals were harmed during this photoshoot.

Spoil the Perfume?

The New York Post has a very intriguing snippet regarding perfume use, containing two quotes from people famous for their perfume lines: Chanel and Guerlain.
Coco Chanel once said that "it was the height of arrogance for a woman to think that she smelled good enough to go out without perfume", while Jean Paul Guerlain has been known to say "you can put all the perfume you want on a smelly beggar but it will not conceal his odor and it will also spoil the perfume."

Excuse me, are we on serious mode now?
Because I find nothing wrong with a clean woman's scent which doesn't need adornment if she and her partner do not wish to go that route. But that wouldn't help the perfume business along, would it? I guess it is the same thing as with makeup: we have been so much conditioned to believe that a naked face is so shockingly nude that we feel the masochistic need to plaster on various unguents in a futile attempt to conform to someone else's standards. And this is no mere feministic parlance, because The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolfis rather old news by now (although still quite true!). It's nice to play charades and reveal facets of oneself through the use of artificial means, but let's admit it as such: a game; not a necessity!

And considering the poor beggar: what cruel soul would offer perfume in lieu of a decent bath and clean clothes? Makes you think of American Psychosomehow...
Is it certain we're not in Pygmalion-mode? I was a bit flustered there for a second, not sure if Eliza Doolitlehad been offered perfume in that attempt to conceal her humble origins, posing as to the manor born. And on top of that the audacity of spoiling a perfectly good perfume by putting it on a low-class amoebidae form of life...Mon Dieu! The nerve!

Pic courtesy of Athinorama, with apologies to the -I am sure- innocent bearded man who is certainly not a beggar. But it might look like one to Jean Paul.

Secrets of the Trade

There is a well-kept secret in the fragrance industry: A secret Perfume Shrine has been privy to, but not sworn to secrecy and if she doesn't reveal sources, all is well. So, my sweeties, today I will reveal it to you!
Yes, yes, I know you will cast unbelieving and imploring puppy eyes to the Shrine and ultimately want to say "Nah...Helg is having a bitchy day, that's all!". But no, I swear to you that this comes from inside info and is very credible.

We have talked time and again how it is my personal opinion based on several little factoids from observation and discussions that people when judging a fragrance rely as much on their eyes as they do on their noses, if not more. What I mean: there is the undeniable brand recognition which even though is often pooh-poohed, it usually does feature right there in the factors that contribute in making a decision to even sample a fragrance in the first place. The latest discussion I initiated on Perfume of Life on this produced interesting results. It sounds like a trusted house, a brand which produces perfumes that are simpatico to one's sensibilities or which has a interesting reputation is more likely to get customers to sample their other products as well. Of course this is not exactly inventing the wheel: it applies in so many other markets as well. But it is especially applicable in perfumery, it seems. If one consolidates a brand well enough, then customer interest will be forever piqued. This is what happened with Serge Lutens and his olfactory seraglio of lovelies. Even the less lovelies are not wont for desire to sample. Every new Serge is a thirst to be quenched! The same applies to Chanel. And in so many more ways than one.

Coco Chanel herself had the wonderful knack of knowing how to provide what women wanted, yet did not know they wanted it just yet. This is a quality that marks the successful enterpreneur from the unsuccessful one and it is -completely coincidentally I am sure- the secret of the marketability of Tom Ford and everything he touches (ewww).
But to revert to Chanel. The brand has a solid, unshakable seal of approval. It's the Homeric καλος κιαγαθος (=beautiful and virtuous): no woman -or man, for that matter- who wears Chanel could be accused of commiting a serious faux pas in the eyes of good taste. It's the brand with the highest visibility of all luxury brands, the one which most people recognise at a glance, the one who has safe-guarded its pedigree best of all and the one who has been faked most; which only serves to prove that people desire it desperately.
Chanel No.5 is so iconic that it has stayed in the top 5 of perfume bestsellers in France for years (to be slightly nudged off its pedestral by Angel in recent years) and it features among the top 10 or at least top 15 in almost every market it is available. It is this which has earned No.5 the moniker le monstre (=the monster; against which everything is compared to in terms of sales), because of its immense marketability. The thing practically sells itself.
And yet (and here is the catch), when participating in blind tests, the fragrance does especially poor! This is something that has been discussed in the corridors of Firmenich, Givaudan, International Flavors and Fragrances and the rest of those hidden pillars of capitalism for some time now. But the average customer does not frequent those places, ergo he/she is unaware of those facts. What is left is hearsay and their own nose. And so often the former is commenting deafeningly louder than the subleties of the latter.

And yet there are people who object with their nose more than their eyes. You might call it whatever you like, but it's there, it's tangible and it's a share of the market that is breathing and kicking and yielding bucks in the pocket. So not to be patronised. I came across this fascinating recount:

"i'll eventually figure out the note in perfumes like that, but right now i'm calling it "french". there are fragrances that smell french to me, it's a sharp powdery/sweet note that makes me think of grannies. maybe when i'm a granny i'll decide to smell like that.

i've tried chanel 5 on me so many times, always hoping for a different result. even in the dry down, i hate it. and i hear these young celebrities bragging about wearing it, and i think, "there's no way you actually like how that smells. you're wearing it for the name". it's been one of the most popular fragrances since it's release and i can't figure out why".

~from If Only it Were Fiction blog

Don't get me wrong: I like Chanel No.5. In fact I own some and have been enjoying it for years. It was first given to me at the tender age of 14: "every girl should try out Chanel No.5" the fairy-godmother told me. I even keep some in extrait de parfum form. But is it the be all and end all of fragrances? Probably not.

I thought you might want to be privy to this secret as well. Let's call it our secret handshake ;-)

Eddie: Sweetie, what are you drinking?
Patsy: Oh this? Chanel No. 5.

~from Absolutely Fabulous

Pic from Chanel 2001-2002 campaign courtesy of Elegant Lifestyle