Un Jardin Apres la Mousson by Hermes: fragrance review

Visiting the Hermès boutique, at which an appointment was made for olfactory appreciation purposes, is a reward in itself. The new summer collection has arrived, in maroquinerie and silk accessories as well as clothes, all in vivid, shocking pinks of India, warm apricots and light greens with themes of elephants and mangoes. And among those the newest fragrance, Un Jardin Après La Mousson (a garden after the monsoon).

This is the latest to join the Jardin trio in the house's more approachable series, which finds itself one regular step behind the grand feminines and masculines and a full rumba step behind the Hermessences. After Un Jardin en Mediteranée, inspired by the Mediterranean and focusing on bittersweet figs and Un Jardin sur le Nil, which focused on green mango (and coming off as grapefruit on a bed of wood shaves), Un Jardin Après La Mousson takes the surprising fruity note of cantaloupe as the thesis for a little summery dance around it, with a sideways wink to Le Parfum de Thérèse in the F.Malle lineup.

Calone, the uber-marine synthetic, is often anathema for myriads of perfume lovers who have declared war on it. Ellena wanted to create a water accord, farther from the usual marine note: I admit I am among the legion who hate Calone and am wondering why it seems like it sneaked its way into a composition that is proclaiming itself a vegetal-spicy. Regarding the latter part, pepper is the protagonist among the spices with its short-wave of coolness, reminiscent of the accord created for Poivre Samarkand. Vetiver in turn disrobes of its earthy, pungent character in a molecular reconstruction by Ellena which sheds the layers of dirty to leave behind a proper and "clean" note that is more like a fabric softener or a good after-shave cream than the viscous essential oil. There is the vegetal theme explored in Kelly Calèche and the mineral aspect of Terre d'Hermès, which combined might appear as laziness, but I suspect is Ellena's way of showing conviction and homogeneity in what he does for the brand.

In the article titled Liquid Assets by Phoebe Eaton for The New York Times, choke full of beautiful pictures, the journey of Jean Claude Ellena to Kerala, India (the cornerstone in the spice market) in a quest for inspiration is recounted for our benefit. Staying at the Kumarakom Lake Resort on the shores of Vembanad Lake in February, Ellena profited from a sojourn in the tropics. And it would be wicked to suggest he goes for such ideas for the chance to do so.

Observation: Jean Claude, despite his identity card and citizenship, doesn't look French. He doesn't dress French. More importantly he doesn't compose perfumes in the French tradition. Instead, he looks Italian (which he is in part) or Greek (which I'd like to think he is judging by his name) and his whole outlook on life and art seems focused in the sparsity and translucence of style that is embedded in the classical tradition of those two cultures. He accepts ornamentation when it serves functionality or innovation, but not otherwise. Like an architect who shuns Caryatids when they don't actually support something or a couturier who abhors brooches which don't hold a dress in place.

He also seems to compose for the particular micro-climate of those two countries, as the rising temperatures of late spring and summer are especially simpatico to the cooling feel of his Jardins, but also Hermessences series. Those scents act as portable air-conditioning around a person, giving an effect of dry cool without the fizzy banalité of sodas perpetuated by the pink fruity florals on the market. I predict his latest offering will sell well in warmer countries which are however removed from the tradition of opulence.

To judge his latest offering we should question ourselves:
Is he loyal to his vision? He assuredly is. He is honing his style, stretching it to its maximum extremities, trying to ascertain that upon sniffing people will exclaim "Mais, c'est un Ellena!" the way they would do it for a Picasso or a Pollock. And incidentally always subtracting, just as they did. He goes for abstraction, not realism.
Is he faithful to Kerala, India? Not particularly, and maybe the fact that the fragrance got promoted in that way leaves something to be desired in the perfume-lover's stakes, much like the leather tag did for Kelly Caleche. It's usually unthinkable to do India without copious amounts of spice and orientalised compositions, although Patou with his Sira des Indes went for the novel approach succesfully with his banana-laced fruity a while ago.
Is he loyal to the Hermès style? This is the trickiest question of the three. Hermès has gone through a dramatic shift in image by hiring Ellena. The older fragrances exuded a luxurious feel of an upscale, very expensive boutique for the elite with the inclusion of precious materials and the honeyed scents of perceived affluence. That image was luxe but also a tad stuffy, prim, too bon chic bon genre and thus ultimately a cliché. The new direction of luxury demands airier scents, ingredients that look humble but perform on a higher level than their constituents (a reconstructed "clean" vetiver for Mousson, a mineral accord for brilliant Terre d'Hermès, a floral-smelling suede note for Kelly Calèche) which, like the recent trend in gastronomy that put back humble rocket on our tables after what seemed like decades, dubs you as not trying too hard. And proper chic, the chic that Hermès is obviously aiming at, is never trying too hard.

In those terms, Un Jardin Après la Mousson is succesful for what it set out to do. Whether it would be my first choice for personal fragrance is seriously debatable. Un Jardin sur le Nil proved to be so lovable and so suited to my summer sensibilities that I am not considering to replace it with the new one. I don't see a void in my collection, to be honest. But I wouldn't resort to aphorisms either!

The fragrance is completely unisex and marketed as such. It performs much better on skin than on the mouillette (blotter) where it loses much of its piquancy. It is rather fleeting however, in comparison to the other Jardins who hold their own well, and might stay put longer if you spray fabric, on which it also performs well.
The complimentary body products (body mist without alcohol: 42euros for 100ml, body lotion: 39euros for 200ml, shower gel: 33euros for 200ml ~and the two limited edition products dry oil: 40euros for 100ml and body mist without alcohol: 42euros for 100ml) are luxurious, though less scented than the Eau de toilette. The latter is presented in a gorgeous bottle which has a degradé of shades from the cap down, from light green to vivid blue and the box illustrations are simply adorable.

Notes: cardamom, coriander, pepper, ginger, Kahili ginger flower (not related to ginger root), vetiver.

Available at the Hermès Boutique US and France, the physical Hermès boutiques, at Saks and soon in department stores worldwide.
Eau de toilette: 83 euros for 100ml

And if you have a few minutes to spare in fun, click here.

Pic via Hermes, boxes courtesy of the Purseblog.com

Obsessive Compulsions

When Calvin Klein came out with Obsession and Obsession for Men in the 1980s, his reputation as a sexual provocateur was consolidated beyond any reasonable doubt. He had started with hinting at it through his infamous Jeans commercials featuring an underage Brooke Shields sineously asking "What comes between me and my Calvins?", to which the answer was of course "Nothing!"; but the perfumes had the potential of allowing so much more!
So today we're devoting space to a brilliant marketeer and the beautiful and disturbing connotations emerging from an admittedly legendary duo of fragrances.

In some cases the experiment was bordering on the paedophilic, earning Calvin a ban in the US with the following commercial which naughtily used the tagline "Love is child's play when you've known Obsession". But this only raised awareness of the brand, boosting sales. It was so infamous in fact that it got satirized on Saturday Night Live as Compulsion, hence the title of today's post.



And in some others, it took a turn for the utterly poetic, borrowing passages from literature accompanied by black and white artistic videos.
First from F.Scott Fitzerald and his The Great Gatsby (chapter6), in an ad directed by David Lynch and featuring Heather Graham and Benicio del Toro in 2001.



Or from D.H Lawrence, from Women in Love, again directed by David Lynch in the same year.




And then, there is this very funny reference to Obsession for Men in a very sweet, very touching, endearing little film, The Sum of Us, starring Russel Crowe, John Polson and Jack Thompson :
click here to watch the hilarious clip
Two potential partners who happen to be gay and share the fragrance one of them loves. And two dads respectively with funny quips about Obsession for Men: one unaware of the son's sexual identity and disapproving of the cologne, another good-naturedly accepting the lifestyle and raising a brow on excess...
But let's not spoil the fun (and a second scented reference towards the end!). Please watch for yourselves!

Clip of 1985 commercial of Obsession originally uploaded by beegib. Clips from 2001 uploaded by austinstar and spdelgado respectively.
Clip from the film The Sum of Us originally uploaded by Osloairport on Youtube.

The winner...

It's finally time for the big winner of the lucky samples draw: it's Pavlova.
Please mail me with an address so I can send a goody bag your way!

Thank you all for participating in this draw and hope you join me again for the next one soon.

Travel Memoirs: Singapore part 2

Walking under a lightly tinted oriental umbrella fit for the hot sun, but also the sudden shower of the tropics, I find myself savoring the sights and smells of exotic Singapore again as I reminiscence. Besides the lush vegetation, olfactory stimuli exist in other venues as well.

One of the best ways to get to know a culture is through its cuisine. Singapore’s cuisine seems to have been a fusion of other cultural influences long before fusion became the “in” word it has since become. Encompassing elements of Chinese, Indian and Malayan gastronomy it is as rich and fragrant as the wildest imagination could fathom. Tamarind, turmeric and heavy smelling ghee (a class of clarified butter) feature heavily as does sampal, a common chili-based accompaniment to most foods. Fragrances such as Black XS for Her or John Varvatos have taken elements of that rich spicy tradition of Asia and wouldn’t be too out of place in this subtext.

The aroma of spices is evident in such dishes as Char siew rice (chā shāo fàn) and Char siew noodles (chā shāo miàn), a Cantonese-inspired dish of rice or noodles served with barbecued pork in a thick sauce. Satay bee hoon, thin rice vermicelli, is served with spicy satay sauce of crushed peanuts. Kare Kare is a Philippine-inspired dish of oxtail, similarly stewed in peanut sauce. Oyster omelet, combines the fishy, iodine odor of oysters with coriander leaves. Spicy kangkung, a dish of leafy green vegetables is fried in sambal, imparting a biting hot tang that excites the tongue’s buds.

The fruit selection is both amazing and surprising in its variety and fragrant goodness. Atis, the Philippine word for Cherimoya, are to quote Mark Twain "the most delicious fruit known to men." Mangos are a breed apart from what you get in the West. If your idea of a mango is the green, unripe one in the refreshing Un Jardin sur le Nil by Hermes (which smells more like a wounded grapefruit), you are in for a welcome surprise: the deep apricot color, sweetness and yumminess of aroma in mangos of tropical southeastern Asia is a feast for all the senses. To the other end of the spectrum, in the heavier oriental category, a complex mix of the spices and fruits of the southeastern Asia is encaptured in Jungle L’elephant by Kenzo.
Kalamansi (citrus micracarpa) can also be found in Singapore, a small citrus fruit, often called sour lime, with which description it’d be hard to argue after one tongue-curling taste of the juice. Cold, served in cocktails, it imparts a zesty, tart and sweet aroma with shades of grapefruit and tangerine that is totally refreshing amidst the monsoon steam.

The desserts range from the interesting ice cream flavors like corn, cheese and ube (the Philippine word for taro) to halo-halo (pronounced hah-low hah-low), crushed ice with corn and fruit and jelly and Bubur cha cha, yam and sweet potato cubes served in coconut milk and sago, served hot or cold. Red rubies, a Thai-inspired dessert, is made by boiling water-chestnuts covered in rice flour and red food coloring, served over shaved ice, rose syrup and evaporated milk. The latter is sometimes referred to as "mock pomegranate", since the chestnut pieces bear a resemblance to the pomegranate seeds. Magical Moon by Hanae Mori includes coconut, milky lactonic notes and rose in a fragrance that reminds me a bit of this particular dessert.

After an orgiastic feast that leaves you a bit too full for comfort, seeking comfort of the soul is where your weary but satisfied feet take you. Singapore offers temples of Hinduist, Buddhist and Taoist credo and even Muslim mosques to cater for its cosmopolitan citizenship. Yueh Hai Ching temple and Thian Hock Keng temple are well known placed amidst the central part of the city. In front of the antique stores, a laughing Buddha is sitting to whom people clamor, to rub his belly and drop coins into the slot over his navel for good luck and karma.

In the relative quiet of the Hindu temple, full of the fragrant smell of what seems like Nag Champa incense and illuminated by numerous small candles under the enshrined deities decorated with flowers, one of the caretakers invites us to see the idol up close; he cups a metal bowl over our heads and gives us herbal leaves to chew on as well as red powder. The latter is used to mark a woman’s forehead.

In comparison the Buddhist temple is packed with people kneeling in prayer, chanting from dog-eared books and burning incense sticks which produce a thick smoke of what would be olfactory heaven if they had stuck to the alloted three sticks per burning, incidentally the lucky number for this. The smell of the temple overall reminds me of the peculiarly wonderful mix in L’artisan’s Timbuktu: one part incense to two parts living, breathing beings. People in their desire to please the divine universe, bowing their heads in supplication, have grabbed handfuls of sticks, their tips smoldering into ash which falls on their hands and on their clothes in fleeting moments of pain. I try to imagine what they’re praying for and fail: surely everyone is different and they have their own worries to think about, much different than what I contemplate myself.
The mystical atmosphere of the temples will accompany me on the long, long flight home as I already long for visiting once again.

Pic of Wakm Hai Cheng Bio temple and Trishaws courtesy of Worldisround.com. Ati/Cherimoya pic courtesy of Wikipedia

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