O la la, how fresh! ~O de Lancome: fragrance review

Inhaling a lemon grove's foliage trail in the morning air under hot azure skies, set to savour the day with optimism, full of joie de vivre must be one of life's simplest and most satisfying pleasures. Fragrances that give a lift to my step and make me face the mornings with élan are precious.
The task of achieving just that is not easy: it has to be uplifting, but also suave, not rasping on the senses which are slowly winding up to function from the night's inertia. Optimistic but with a hint of the stoic that marks the nature of my thoughts. Ô de Lancôme with its playfully double entendre of aqueous name and cool, dark green chyprish tendencies puts the right balance between the zesty burst of yellow hesperides and the alchemy of green herbs, interwoven like baroque music with its rounded forms philosophically puts some semblance of order into chaos.

The first advertisements for Ô de Lancôme emphasised the back to nature vibe that the French do so well with artistic merit: young women on bikes emerging from the rampant countryside, drenched in sunlight but with the coolness of spring air and dew in the fragrant grass, putting goosebumps on the skin at the hint of a breeze. It is so rare to encounter such a blatantly unpretentious image in fragrance advertising any more. Seeing those advertisements while leafing spring volumes of French Elle magazine, yearly devoted to beauty rituals of what seemed an arcane yet factually a simple mode, made me realize at a tender age how the natural world hides secrets of longing in the grass.

Composed in 1969 by perfumer René Gonnon, Ô de Lancôme came out at the time of Paris students' revolt and became an emblematic fresh Eau, taking the uber-successful Eau Sauvage one step further with the inclusion of synthetic aroma-chemical Thujopsanone. The consolidation of greenness under the crushed lemon leaves in the palm, with a subtle woody background resembles a viola da gamba supporting a clear, young female voice singing rounds of couplets in an allemande that converge on the same sweet surrender of a third majore of Provence in the end of a song in minore. Almost thirty years later and it retains the fresh radiance of a young girl, nary a shadow under the eye, curiously a tad sorrowful for the joys of life she has yet to experience.



Like the song goes:

Une jeune fillette
De noble coeur
Plaisante et joliette
De grande valeur
Outre son grès,
On l'a rendue nonette
Celui point de lui haicte
D'où vit en grande douleur
~{see the translation and musical notation on this page}

Ô de Lancôme was according to Osmoz the start of

"a new olfactory adventure [..] and perfumery would continue to explore its charms and powers until the early 80’s: Eau de Rochas, de Courrèges, de Guerlain, de Patou, de Givenchy, Eau d’Hadrien (Annick Goutal), Eau de Cologne d’Hermès, and even Cristalle (Chanel) and Diorella (Dior) would successfully pick up the gauntlet of those fresh, signature thrills that left their mark on an entire generation".

Notes: bergamot, citron, mandarin, petit-grain, jasmine, rose, honeysuckle, (witch hazel in 1995 version), basil, rosemary, coriander, oakmoss, cedar, sandalwood, vetiver.

Eau de Toilette comes in 75ml/2.5-oz and costs €48.50 and lasts incredibly well for this kind of fragrance.
Available at major department stores and Sephora.

The fragrance was re-issued in 1995 with a slight change in colouring in the packaging, which is helpful in identifying batches: the band around the bottle changed from ambery brown to bright green, same with the colour scheme of the box. The motif on the glass, like 60s wallpaper as Susan Irvine succinctly put it, remained the same.

There are two "flankers" to the original fragrance, both futile in my opinion for different reasons: O oui!, a fruity floral in a similar bottle with the palest white-ish blue colouring, aimed at generation Y, so saccharine-full generic and dull that it barely made a bleep on the radar; and a men's version in a green capped spartan column of a bottle called O pour Homme , marketed with the symbol of Mars (and male too) as the variation on O. Pleasurable thought it is, it seems like a redundant attempt to market what is already an eminently unisex fragrance in a new packaging to the opposite sex.
No need to splurge in getting both: the original is perfect on men as well and I highly recommend it.

Pics from parfumdepub.
Clip of popular song Une Jeune Fillette arranged by J.Savall from the exquisite film Tous les matins du monde, originally uploaded by Peteronfire on Youtube

Sealed with a Kiss

Perfume Shrine had found a comprehensive video for showing the delicate technique of baudruchage (the coiling of the silk thread around the neck),barbichage and brossage (the following steps into securing the neck and seperating the ends of the thread) at Chanel. It was posted here, if you missed it.


However, there is another page on Notcot.com devoted to this exact process with funny captions step by step and very comprehensive photos. You can see the Chanel parfum sealing clicking here.

But there is also a very interesting page on the same site comparing the Chanel bottle with Place Vendôme in the 1er arrondissement itself via Google maps, confirming the myth that Coco might have chosen it to echo the shape of the famous square in her bottle, as a reference to the Ritz where she stayed.
It's always fun to prove -or disprove- perfume lore, isn't it?

Pics courtesy of notcot.com

Extraits de Parfum and Another Exclusive for Miller Harris

Miller Harris has mostly been an unsung brand by the perfume online community, mainly because -I am hypothesizing- the style of the fragrances is limpid and diaphanous which possibly are not desirable attributes for the budding perfume lover as well as the more seasoned perfume collector: too often there is the plunge for the dark and mysteriously orientalised with a sinister twist or antithetically for the ascetically sparse and architecturally focused on a single abstract interplay of steel and glass.
Miller Harris scents, the brainchild of Lyn Harris, an independent perfumer working on several high-class commissions for the famous and for perfume lines that do not always reveal their secrets, are neither.

Instead they began as an affair of simple compositions with no pretence, but with good quality ingredients, often expensive natural floral essences, and they progressed into producing fragrances that went beyond: Feuilles de Tabac with its smokey, comforting whiskey-tobacco dream of a pipe, the crystalline honeysuckle chased with champagne that is Fleur du Matin, the fantastically "ripe" and sexy, naughtily commissioned by Jane Birkin L'air de Rien, the wonderful orange burst inside a leather jacket that is Cuir Oranger as well as the salty earthiness of salt mines in Fleur de Sel.

This spring, Miller Harris is releasing a variation on the 4 fragrances in their ‘Classics’ collection. Cœur de Fleur, Terre de Bois, Citron Citron and Fleur Oriental have been unveiled in a new extract concentration, ‘Les Parfums’. Presented in delicate engraved bottles, they’ll bring a touch of chic to your boudoir, vanity or bathroom.

Perfume 1 oz/30ml, €215. Available at selected points of sale.

~Via Osmoz.com
Might I remind you that three out of these also come in candle form which is a good way to try out to get the feel for the line.

However not to bypass another new release: Le Petit Grain, an exclusive to their eponymous boutiques, which puts the heavenly feeling of standing beneath an orange grove in spring. To quote:

"Incorporating every element of the orange tree from the oil from the peel of the fruit, to the flowers, to the leaves and the twigs, Le Petit Grain celebrates the great tradition of the cologne family and can be worn and enjoyed by the whole family.
With Le Petit Grain, Lyn has created a careful fusion between each material. The sweet orange sets the tone and is enhanced by angelica racine, eau de brouts absolute (extraction from the leaves), bergamot from Italy and Sicilian lemon".

Eau de Parfum comes in 100ml/2.4oz and costs 110 British pounds

~Via the Miller Harris website

Pic courtesy of Miller Harris.com

Travel Memoirs: Arabian Rituals

Encountering other cultures is often revealing of prejudices of one own’s culture. And nowhere is this more apparent than upon glimpsing the fragrant rituals of the Middle East and in particular the Arab world. Immersed in the tradition of aromas, which were brought to Europe through the Crusades, soon opens a vista of a sensuous world. Fragrance is used to augment not only a person’s attraction but also to enhance food, living quarters and personal objects, to give a sense of moral purity and to unite members of a social group. Furthermore, in Islam scent is coupled to beliefs of evil spirits being associated to foul smells, while “the scented person is surrounded by angels”. Fragrance therefore takes on a deeply spiritual meaning, a matter of sanctity or sin, allying one with the forces of good and dispelling evil influences.

Arab people use aromatics in abundance and they revel in expensive materials when they can afford it, but they try to use what they can lay their hands on when they cannot. Women adhere to the motto: “We must use lots of smells”. But contrary to the beastly trail one imagines being left behind, that does not happen in public. An intimate approach is favored: within family and friends or among other women’s company.

In the United Arab Emirates specifically, highly prized are aloe wood (with a price to reflect it of upwards 250$ a pound), saffron, musk, rose, ambergris, jasmine, Arabian jasmine, narcissus, sandalwood, civet, and henna. Oil form is prefered due to its sensual nature and because oil holds fragrance better. Seeds and leaves are grinded into powder to enrich those oils. Arabian women are increasingly appreciating the convenience of Western-style spray fragrances, emulating the Western ideal, yet there is also the belief those smell a little less beautiful due to the intense alcoholic blast out of the sprayer.

Different aromatics are employed for different parts of the body. After a thorough bath, based on the principle that the application of fragrance on unwashed skin invites disease, the ritual begins. The purpose of perfuming is to revel in the scent. Rose, musk and saffron are favored for use all over, while hair benefits from sesame seed or walnut oil, fragranced with essences of ambergris or jasmine. Mkhammariyah is a red-hued mixture of aloe wood, saffron, rose, musk and civet that is put on ears for scenting as well as coloring. The armpits are scented with ambergris or sandalwood, the nostrils with aloe wood, the neck with ambergris, aloe wood, saffron, musk, narcissus and rose.

The rituals become even more elaborate for a wedding: the bride is washed, massaged, oiled and censed with various unguents and lotions. The bridal dress is soaked in water aromatized with rose-water, pepper, saffron and civet and then fumigated with ambergris and musk. A husband says after describing his wife’s scents on her person and her garments: “We men like all scents used but have a preference for musk, ambergris, aloe wood and saffron”*. Arabian men are also catered for: often with the same scents ~ rose, ambergris and particularly aloe wood. They are rubbed on ears, under nostrils, on the palms and smeared on the beard.

Clothes are censed with “fumigation”: washed, dried and then placed on a rack over a big incense burner purposely used for this process. The scent captured by the fabric remains perceptible even after washing, that dense the cloud of smoke is. Darker clothes (usually worn by women) are being censed with aloe wood, musk, ambergris, rose, Arabic gum and sugar, while white clothes (usually worn by men) are only censed with aloe wood for fear of staining.

You can watch the ritual here:



Olfactory pleasures come in gustatory form as well. Food is cooked slowly, with lid on, so as to preserve the aromas of fragrant materials used, resulting in mouth-watering Epicureanism. Spices are highly prized, especially anise, pepper, cinnamon, clove, garlic and ginger. Rose-water, orange-blossom water, cardamom and saffron are recipe ingredients in desserts. Cardamom is used in Arabic coffee and saffron in tea, while both saffron and cardamom oil are often added to milk. Frankincense smoke is sometimes used for drinking water, also useful for disinfecting it, which is arguably the origin of the now archaic tradition. A pot is filled with thick frankincense vapors, then water is poured over it and the lid put back on.

An invitation to an Arab house is occasion for reveling in olfactory pleasures as a means of tightening social ties. Good manners dictate to arrive pleasantly perfumed and to compliment the scents of the house and the food. The end of a meal is a chance to partake in fragrance sharing rituals, which intensifies the group’s sense of unity. A 19th century narration of the process goes thus: “A small square box […] is filled with charcoal or live embers of Ithel and on these are laid three or four small bits of sweet-scented wood. […] Everyone now takes in turn the burning vase, passes it under his beard…next lifts up one after another the corners of his head-gear or kerchief, to catch therein an abiding perfume.”* Currently Arab hostesses bring out fragrances for the guests to savor and put on themselves. The higher quality the scents are, the higher the praise for the hostess when passersby and friends smell the guests leaving from the place of invitation.

The pious aspect of fragrances in the Arab world is reflected in places of holiness and funeral rites.
Mosques are weekly incensed with frankincense for purification and it is an old tradition that musk had been used in the mortar to render a pleasant smell for years to come. I haven’t personally smelled it as such but the literature insists that it was so.
Funerals are held to be scented affairs. The body is washed with water scented with fragrant leaves and then smeared with camphor, sandalwood and saffron oil. On each side a censer, with Arabic gum and frankincense respectively, is placed, while the burial ground is also aromatized with aloe wood sticks sending their fragrant trails to the heavens. However it is interesting to note that although perfuming is lavished on the dead, for this occasion it is reserved for them only: the living do not use perfume as a mark of separation from the realm of the dead and as an external manifestation of mourning.

Recapitulating, it is fascinating to contemplate that fragrance takes on so many aesthetic and moral uses in a rich culture such as the Arabic one. Perhaps the West has still things to get taught.

References:
*1) A.Kanafani “Aesthetics and Ritual in the United Arab Emirates: the Anthropology of Food and Personal Adornment among Arabian Women”, American University of Beirut, 1983 pp.42-90
*2) W.G.Palgrave, “Narrative of a year’s journey through Central and Eastern Arabia”, Macmillan 1866, vol.2, p.26

Artwork "Two Lovers" from the 19th century, via the Hermitage museum. Clip originally uploaded by BBCWomeninBlack (from the homonymous documentary) and kindly sent to me by Kels.

Happy Mother's Day!

For all the mothers in the world, a very, very happy celebration of the most unconditional love of them all. Not just for today, but for every step of the way through the long years of this wonderful relationship.

Happy Mother's Day to all!

Art photography by Spyros Panayiotopoulos, courtesy of eikastikon.gr