Average Person vs Perfumista

Sometimes a question is not just a question. It includes its own answer and some surplus connotations as well. How can this theory be applied to perfume discussion? Here is how: "Do you think the average person on the street would like Chanel Bois des Îles?" The thought was further elaborated: "Does our extreme focus on fragrances make us unable to be impartial judges at this point to what appeals to the masses? And finally...do we even care what the person on the street thinks as long as we like it?" This got me thinking.

For some reason, a question like that presupposes certain things:

1) that Bois des Îles is not popular anyway (OK, I am willing to believe this due to exclusivity, if not taste)
2) that Bois des Îles is therefore somehow superior (which in all truth it is...But this is besides the point, as it is getting asked, so supposedly it would be under scrutiny whether it is)
3) that the average person cannot recognise the value of a superior fragrance if they smell it
4) that the person asking is not average (notice the term "masses")
6) therefore, by process of syllogism, the person asking is superior.

Don't you think such questions are more about the questioner than the question?

The answers are just as interesting:
"I do not think Bois Des Îlesis a particularly accessible fragrance" coming from a "newbie" as she admits. Another continues the above thinking: "I don't eat what the average person on the street eats (McDonalds!) and I'm sure they don't share my taste in scent. That's fine, we can have rarefied taste..." To which there is some follow up: "Bois des Îleswas not made for the average people. I am not interested in their reactions".
And the pièce de resistance, someone asks: "Which street?" (I am laughing now with the wry humour. If it's not humour, then I don't know what to say!)

A friend with whom I discussed this replied with another question: "Why the hell would I want the average person to love it on ME?"
Because it is inferred we pick them, not the other way around. True, dear, true.

Since when our choice of perfume makes us superior? Or is this as ancient as the first cavewoman/caveman who rubbed herbs on the body and believed to be better than the neighbour next...cave-opening? I am asking you!

Pic originally uploaded on Wit of the staircase

2008 fragrance anniversaries

Several significant fragrance anniversaries are scattered through 2008: the House of Guerlain’s 180th year (to mark which a new men’s scent is in the works), L’Air du Temps’ 60th and the 30th for several other classic scents: Polo, Mûre et Musc and Azzaro pour Homme.

Personally I am very intrigued with what Guerlain might further do for the occassion: being my favourite house and with a revamped image in the last few years, sourcing through their back catalogue, I am eager for more! In the meantime, Guerlain is launching a limited edition of its best-seller for men, Habit Rouge, this spring. Named Habit de Metal , it is a collectible presented in a metallic-red lacquered flask, in a silvery package. The scent remains the same gorgeous powdery oriental. The Eau de toilette comes in 3.4 oz/100ml and retails for €70.


For the holidays of 2008, Nina Ricci will issue a prestigious collector’s edition for the powdery floral L'air du temps: a duo in “day and night” Lalique crystal. The set will comprise two bottles of extrait de parfum; one a pale, opalescent crystal, the other a shiny black. The set will be presented in a round jewel box with a black satin ribbon that will come in only 1,382 numbered sets for the entire world. The Lalique crystal extrait de parfum bottles will contain ¼ fl. oz. each and will retail at €227. {info through Osmoz}

Check back later for an opinion article.

Pic of Nina Ricci ad from the 70s courtesy of Parfums de pub

Perfumes the Guide by Turin and Sanchez: sneak preview and review

The perfume guide being written by odor guru Luca Turin with co-author and his newlywed Tania Sanchez was shrouded in mystery for some time. It has been 15 years since Turin had penned the original, now out-of-print Parfums, Le Guide in French. Since then the eruption of the Internet made English-reading audiences thirsty for his erudition, sporadically catered for through his NZZ Folio column and defunct blog. Finally this new guide is fast approaching. I received my copy in advance and I am in the position to tell you that it is a good read! Perfume Shrine is in fact the first perfume blog to post an actual review of the new Guide.

Although it claims to be “the definitive guide to the world of perfume”, I find that such a task is so monumental in its scope that it might as well be awarded the Everest-climbing seal of effort. It’s simply a Titan feat to accomplish! However, Perfumes the Guide impressed me as being a very pleasurable guide through the opacity of perfume shopping, low on the purple-o-Meter and more importantly one that does not require a former education on the subject while being scientifically elucidating.

How does the book "flow"?
Luca continues to write in his familiar vernacular (references to classical music and sports cars abound) that manages to be witty and caustic most of the time, even if one disagrees, with the admirable trait of laconic delivery. The latter should serve as a lesson to my anal-retentive habit of elaborating on any possible historical minutiae when writing myself.
Tania seems to have also benefited from her stint as editor-cum-muse, not having forgotten her Makeup Alley roots which she credits. Her writing is removed from previous exaggerations and is to the point, sometimes rivaling her prototype in acerbity and realism. They alternatively (identified by initials) take on almost 1500 fragrances -per the book jacket- circulating in department stores, drugstores and niche boutiques today. Something at every price point. The system is easy and relies on a 5 star point scale (from 1 for awful to 5 for masterpiece) ~which is to be expected in any product qualitatively measured these days. Wine appreciation guides as well as cinephile sites have contributed to this system becoming increasingly common. It will do.

The structure of the book is divided into uneven parts:

1. The brief introduction by TS focuses on how perfume is part of culture and criticism is inherent in any art form ~ergo in perfume as well, and everyone should get used to it
2. Essay on how to choose fragrances for oneself and for the occassion
3. Essay on why would men want to wear scent and categories of masculine fragrances with impromptu, fun names like "Lawrence of Arabia" for orientals
4. A brief introduction to the history of modern perfumes' emergence, which to LT is inextricably tied to the rise in synthetics. Somehow like a brick off his previous book but informative.
5. Some answers to frequently asked elementary questions, one of which is the perennial “skin chemistry” affecting fragrances (the short answer is "not really")
6. The reviews, which take the huge bulk of the book in easy to follow alphabetical order
7. A very brief glossary of terms
8. Top ten lists in the categories of: best feminines, best masculines, best cross-gender choices, best picks from floral, chypre and oriental families and the innovatively intelligent best quiet and best loud fragrances; as an epilogue an index by star-rating of all the fragrances reviewed.

What I enjoyed:

~The to-the-point monikers beside the perfumes, instead of general classifications which usually prove so pointless to the reader. Instead the two-word descriptors are uncunningly accurate most of the time. Those range from the merely descriptive (“rasberry vanilla” for Armani Diamonds) to the outright dismissive (“nasty floral” for Bright Crystal by Versace or “fruity death” for Nanette Lepore), through the poetically inclined (“angry rose” for Malle’s Une Rose or “snowy floral” for Pleasures) and the iconically untouchables (“reference vetiver” for Guerlain’s).
I had much fun with the “not X” and “not Y” descriptors besides perfumes which are actually named X or Y something. It is so true, it’s hilarious! It’s refreshing to see that Lauder's Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia gets the “true gardenia” descriptor, because hey, it does smell like it and making it into the best florals category.

~That no perfume is spared based on its former laurels. This is a personal pet peeve of mine, I admit, when reading perfume criticism online; especially on perfume blogs and fora. Too often the illustrious reputation and history of a fragrance earn it a state of grace that is completely undeserved in its present formulation. To their credit, LT and TS dismember each and every one of those old beauties and see just how successful the facelift was: Are there any visible scars? Forehead immovable? Eyes not going beyond the perpetually surprised? Oh, it’s breathing and smiling again, there’s a dear! Or is it terminally confined to Joan-Rivers-land? It’s a great misfortune that the majority belongs to the latter category. Caron fans are in for a bumby landing!

~That two indie perfumers (and people who are trully sweet) received accolades for their work in this tome: Andy Tauer, mainly for his superb L’air du desert marocain (which earned the masterpiece 5-star award, with honorable mentions for Le Maroc, Rêverie and Lonestar Memories). And Vero Kern whose Onda, Kiki and Rubj received each 4 stars. For someone who is mentioned as coming initially from aromatherapy (a no-no obviously in LT’s books), this is not just high praise, it’s being toured round Zeus for the first time ever. Bravo Vero!

~That Luca Turin has relaxed his stance against perfumes that use only natural essences and included creations by Dominique Dubrana, who will be featured on these pages soon. A small step for one man; a huge step for a whole artistic movement.

What I did not like as much:

~The impression that fragrances created by friend perfumers are seemingly described in more raptured tones. The fact that some of those perfumers are actually mentioned as friends leaves a little bit of hesitancy to the reader in ingesting the opinion proferred. Not that I doubt the best possible intentions, mind you.

~The idolatry surrounding most of Sophia Grojsman’s scents down to 100% Love (formely known as the artwork named S-Love). Do I read her referred to as trismegista? I can’t explain why. I trust it does not fall under the previous category. The comparable disparagement of Jean Claude Ellena’s and Olivia Giacobetti's aesthetic with sporadic exceptions.
Celebrity deathmatch indeed of two diametrically antithetical worlds.

~In fact there is a tendency of formed opinion regarding brands more than individual perfumes (By Killian is "good" while Le Labo is "bad", although to me they seem to be equally poseurs). I might attribute that to opinion on the concept of a line, however.

~The glossary provided is very poor in a guide that purpots to be “the definitive” one. Perhaps they meant it as a help through the lingo used throughout the reviews. For the perfume enthusiast it is formulaic and not offering anything new.


In essence (pun intended), Perfumes The Guide is not going the exposé route that Chandler Burr did with his The Perfect Scent and therefore perfume lovers will not find out as many revelations either, but it is an absorbing, very entertaining read that will be referenced from now on on every possible online venue. Rookies especially will have a field day with the latter activity (bound to grate on the nerves of the rest of us). More seasoned perfumephiles can disagree from time to time... Oh and Luca, please drop the Keen fishing sandals over socks.

Perfumes the Guide is officially coming out on April 10. You can preorder it clicking Perfumes: The Guide

Pic of book jacket courtesy of Amazon, pic of LT and TS courtesy of the perfume pilgrim. Pic from the Terry Gilliam 1985 film Brazil courtesy of filmforum.org

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.