New for Autumn

Autumn seems far away for anyone who hasn't taken their summer vacations yet, but we like to be prepared! Traditionally it's the time to replace your light and fruity fragrances with warmer, heavier notes. However, Denise Estrada, owner of Mélange Apothecary in Sherman Oaks, California, is noticing that fruit-based fragrances such as Cassis (berry), Framboise (raspberry leaf) and Poire (pear) as well as crisp citrus are beating out the competition, no matter if it’s raining, snowing, or sweltering out. Well, we had a suspicion it was so, after witnessing the plethora of fruity fragrances out!
Having worked in the fragrance industry for nearly 20 years as a formulator, esthetician and manufacturer, Estrada considers Mélange a “living lab,” where she is able to track and trend forecast what will be the next big scent in the world of fragrance. Here is what Mélange is creating for the upcoming autumn season:

Fragrances:
Eau de Parfum:
Casablanca Lily: Takes the warm and fragrant Oriental Casablanca Lily and blends it with a touch of rich Sandalwood oil.
Pomegranate & Grapefruit: A wonderful combination of fresh, uplifting Grapefruit, blended with a tart, fresh Pomegranate fragrance reserved especially for this blend.
Mandarin & Orchid: A blend of fresh Mandarin oil, Orchid, Jasmine and green accords.
Feuille de Fromboise: A fresh Red Raspberry Leaf with sweet Green Tea.
Parfum Concentrated Rollers:
Athene with Gardenia & Amber: A full ounce of Athene (a blend of Dark Chocolate, Guava, Vanilla and Tuberose) with sweet Gardenia and golden Amber.
Natural Jasmine, with Mandarin & Cypress: A full ounce of sweet Jasmine, Mandarin Orange Blossoms and the clean scent of Cypress.

Concrete Parfum Blending Kit: To mix and match in the following scents: Feuille de Fromboise (Red Raspberry Leaf); Tuberose (rich Floral); Green Tea (tea leaves with citrus and fruit accords), Grenade (sweet Pomegranate fruit).

For Home:
Candles (with soy-blend wax, no dyes and cotton wicks) in Pomegranate & Citrus, Poire and Casis Noir (sic). There is also the accompanying home scent diffusers in Pomegranate & Citrus and Poire & Casis (sic).

Mélange is quite popular for its one-of-a-kind blending bar, with more than 70 permanent fragrances and essential oils are readily available to sniff, blend and play with (cool!)
The products are available online at www.melangeapothecary.com.

The winner of the Patou Ma Collection draw...

...will be announced next Monday. I am sorting out through the numerous sumbissions now, so if you have forgotten to comment to be eligible, do so till Sunday midnight.
Thank you for participating!

How does the latest Serge Noire by Serge Lutens smell like?

Serge Noire, the export fragrance of Lutens for this summer (July 2008) derives its lineage from history: In the 19th and early 20th century, the name (la serge, feminine hence the "e" in the adjective "noire") designated a type of textile, twill of diagonal lines or ridges on both sides, made with a two-up, two-down weave, that was quite popular: a delicate variety was used for finer garments, while a stronger yarn was chosen for military clothes. The etymology derives from Greek σηρικος (σηρος means silk worm, for clothes), which gave rise to the Latin serica and the old French serge.
The interesting thing is that serge has been implicated through the British textile trade monopoly via Calais and the Netherlands in wars between European nations, especially religious ones: in 1567 Calvinist refugees from the Low Countries included many skilled serge weavers, while Huguenot refugees in the early eighteenth century included many silk and linen weavers.

With that at the back of our minds we might start deciphering the enigma of Serge Noire and its reputation of an ascetic incense, according to my confidante Elisabeth. Quite taken with it, she discussed it at length with Serge, who explained that it is very different from Encens et Lavande, the previous sumptuous and fantastically deep frankincense take in the exclusive Palais Royal line.
Since there is often a double interpretation of the same material in both exclusive and export lines, it is not unheard of that there would be an incense scent in the latter. After all there is indeed a lavender one to match Encens et Lavande, Gris Clair, so why not one to address the other constituent of the fragrance as well?

Frankincense came into the scene of niche cults with the "Incense series" by Comme des Garcons and Passage d'Enfer by L'artisan parfumeur years ago and although it seemed it languished for a while, incense knew a resurgence last summer with Andy Warhol Silver Factory by Bond No.9, an arguably interesting take and with Andy Tauer's wonderful duo of Incense Extrême and Incense Rosé this autumn.

Serge Noire comes to offer an architecture of incense that is pure and balanced with nothing in excess, yet not classical. Rather an orientalised grey, which in itself is a play on his previous Gris Clair. It has a ritualistic element, without the cold, dark church associations we have come to expect from the genre. It is on the contrary reminiscent of fireworks and powdery dry, laced with spices which will dare our conventional beliefs on incense fragrances.

My French blogger friend Six, on Ambre Gris, equally ecstatic, talks about resinous, warm and slightly sweet, vanillic benzoin joining the proceedings, giving a feminine element to the masculine character, while she notes that pepper and a camphoreous note open up the intriguing composition of dry and bitter japanese-like incense with smoky and mineral tonalities echoing Chinese ink, flanked with a little cinnamon. Elements that have caught the imagination of Lutens and Sheldrake in the past (the camphor in Tubéreuse Criminelle, the ink in Sarrasins, the incense of Encens et Lavande) are merging here in what seems to be a personal declaration of faith.
Elisabeth confirmed that Serge Noire is near and dear to Serge's heart, name nothwithstanding, as he professed it to be his favorite; feeding thus the rumor that it has been in the works for 10 years and hinting that those who have professed it one of the best Lutens in recent years must be right.

So to recapitulate notes for your ease: camphor and pepper, dry incense and ashes, fireworks and gunpowder, sweet benzoin, cistus labdanum, castoreum and a little cinnamon. Got it? Sounds fantastic!

Lutens himself in a lyrical description consistent with his previous cryptic "poems" about his fragrances states concerning Serge Noire:

"An ether of ashes, it's about serge. A way of creating for myself a bad reputation with added value" [...]"A phoenix, the mythical bird of legend burns at the height of its splendour before emerging triumphant, reborn from the ashes in a choreography of flame, conjuring the shapes of yesterday in a dance of ashes. The swirls of oriental grey enrich the twilight with depth and intensity while windswept memories hint at the beauty of transformation. An ode to everlasting beauty under the cover of night's rich plumage"

There is some discrepancy between English and French press release which is intriguing to contemplate: In the French text there is the addition of a controversial affirmation of the fragrance creating a visual contrast between white skin and black cloth, intended for ethereal beauties ("Pour vous belles éthérées! Peaux blanches et serge noire...")
Political correcteness never fit well with Lutens and the phrase despite its connotations cannot be taken at face value, I reckon: I am sure he was focused on the aesthetic choice of chromatic antithesis and not on any racial slur hinted. To me it is more evocative of "The Pillow Book", black calligraphy on light-toned skin, tragically romantic in its unattainable ideal.

The Lutensian feminine ideal is japonified, lean and ascetic in her black garb, a woman of neither here nor there, of no time and no place; she almost becomes inhuman in the attenuation of her form and features to the point she becomes pure art. However every one of his creations bears inside the sperm of this ideal, which caresses our dreams and imprints our thoughts.
Black takes the emblematic scheme of a non-color: it serves as protection and amunition. But also as the symbolic anonymity of the monastic cloth which invokes an inner transformation, a metamorphosis of the spirit and which imparts its truth to those who opt for it.
Serge Noire will be the darling fragrance of everyone seeking to embrace their inner anchorite. Count me in!

Serge Noire comes in Eau de Parfum Haute Concentration at the standard 50 ml/1.7oz oblong flacon with optional spray attachement and costs to buy 95 €

Pic from Shiseido ad courtesy of Autour de Serge

How does the latest El Attarine by Serge Lutens smell like?

The perfume community has been complaining lately. But let's finally admit it: Serge Lutens is the Pope of cult fragrances and Chris Sheldrake has been the archbishop to aid his vision come into fruition. And since, despite Sheldrake's new position under the aegis of Chanel, he can still work with Lutens, we have apparently not seen the last of the duo's creativity. Indeed two new fragrances have been announced: El Attarine and Serge Noire to be launched at the end of summer and July respectively. Anticipation is building. Ad copy is scrutinized for clues. But what do these really smell like? It is Perfume Shrine's privilege to reveal a few facets of that olfactory identity for you today.

One of the advantages of writing and academia is communicating with other people who write and participate in academia as well. And it is more pleasurable and infinitely intriguing when those people share the same passion: fragrance! Perfume historian, professor at the Versailles school of perfumery and writer Elisabeth de Feydeau, who we're honoured to count among the readers of Perfume Shrine, had the opportunity to experience the new Lutens fragrances and asked us to share her impressions for the English-reading public on this venue. Honoured and flattered we agreed with enthusiasm.

But how were these fragrance conceived? According to Lutens regarding El Attarine: "Today, I offer you gold, sun-drenched topaz, everlasting flowers and saps". Admittedly an image evocative of the riches of Arabia and Morocco, eternal inspiration in the Lutens universe.
The olfactory focus and main notes of this solar composition seem to be immortelle/helychrisum, more commonly known as everlasting flower, aimed at offering a new interpretation that will set a new frontier in fragrance history.
Elisabeth described El Attarine to me as intensely about immortelle after a soft opening, with copious lashings of spicy, sweaty cumin and honey notes; this might indicate that they have explored both facets of the material, essence and absolute. With a complex odour profile, immortelle is a fascinating note with a herbaceous, honey-like aroma in the essential oil and recalling the unique odour of spicy fenugreek (Trigonella Foenum Graecum) in the absolute, imparting amazing lasting power and evoking maple syrup for many. {It has been featured in the following scents: Sables and Eau de Monsieur by Goutal, Eau Noire Dior, L de Lolita Lempicka, Calypso Gardenia, Guerlain Cuir Beluga, Cologne du 68 and Coriolan, Chene by Lutens, Balmain Ambre Gris, Rosine Ecume de Rose, Amouage Jubilation XXV, Divine L'Homme Sage, Diptyque Opone, Comme des Garcons Kyoto from the Incense series and Woodcoffee from the Sweet Series, Parfumerie Generale Corps et Ames}.
However in El Attarine imorrtelle is flanked by another warm and sweet essence that is a favourite of Lutens and a staple of Middle-eastern and Mediterranean tradition: jasmine. Its intoxicating lushness appears along with pronounced woods to polish El Attarine off.

Perhaps in a more prosaic description Lutens goes on to say that: "In Arab countries, “attarin” means sweet-smelling, and refers to everything within the realm of the “atar”: fragrance, heart, flavour and essence". Attars recall the mysteries of the east, its people and the rituals in which they engage. The mingling of smell and taste is not unheard of in the Lutens/Sheldrake cosmos, as both Douce Amèreand Mandarine Mandarin are impressions of gustatory speciments (absinthe and mandarin respectively) that reveal side panels of aromas like in a Byzantine triptych ~"Attarine is not a closed door. You cannot make a perfume with only your nose".
El Attarine is also the name of a regal, elite Koranic school in Fez, thus the fragrance is another homage to the Arabic culture that has been providing Lutens with inspiration for the last 2 decades at least.
In a Parthian Shot, Serge leaves us with this: "It is an accord born out of a disagreement in the first person. From my attarinian solitude, the fruits of my imagination were abundant". Make of it what you will and we shall return as soon as it is released!

El Attarine is priced at € 110 for the standard bell jar containing 75 ml, available exclusively at the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido (August 2008). There is the option of shipping within Europe.

Next post will focus on Serge Noire: stay tuned!

Pics courtesy of Palais Royal and Wikipedia.
You can read an interview with Lutens on Scented Salamander.

Patou Ma Collection: part 6 ~Colony, L'Heure Attendue, Caline reviews

“The exotic image of the deepest jungle, lush vegetation, powerful spices borne over amethyst seas and strange girls in distant sun-kissed ports.” Thus is described Colony in the booklet which accompanies Patou’s Ma Collection.

In 1938, amid the threat of impending war, Jean Patou chose Colony to evoke the tropics and to suggest a carefree, more prosperous time. A fetid and round fruity chypre, Patou’s Colony is comprised of succulent and non-sweet pineapple as well as heady ylang ylang from Nossi-Be starting on an almost herbal, boozy accord pinching your nose, which needs humidity and the warmth of skin to open up. Under the thick netting covering fruits one can feel unfolding earthy tonalities juxtaposed with what seems like leather and musk in a game of chiaroscuro.

The languorous Colony prowls like Lauren Bacall did in "To Have and Have Not", as Marie "Slim" Browning, a resistance sympathizer and a sassy singer in a Martinique club; the perfect “strange girl in distant sun-kissed ports”. Curvaceous clothes cinched at the waist hold her graceful gazelle form as she leans her long neck to give a sideways aloof look at those who catch her attention.
And she knows full well how to entice Steve: “You know you don't have to act with me, Steve. You don't have to say anything, and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow”.



Colony by Patou possesses that same husky and nostalgic voice which beckons you to whistle invitingly.
Notes for Colony: fruits, pineapple, ylang ylang, iris, carnation, oakmoss, vetiver and spices.

On the other hand, L'heure Attendue is more like the wistful Ilsa played by Ingrid Bergman in "Casablanca". When the Nazi occupation of Paris came indeed at an end, Jean Patou celebrated with “the longed-for hour”, L’heure Attendue; a soft, rather sweet, powdery and woody perfume with creamy taste, embodying elegance, restraint and dutiful sacrifice; it speaks in the melodious tones of a warm-hearted woman.

With shades of Almeras's style in the heart, L'Heure Attendue is sober yet sparkling, all big expressive eyes, smiling yet with a melancholy of realising what all this entailed. The flowers, interweaved into an inseparable posy, are creamy and tender unfolding into a spicy/woodsy drydown which epitomizes classic elegance. One can imagine it worn with the perfect classic tailleur or trench coat, a broad-brimmed hat perched on smooth hair atop softly arched eyebrows. Inside its core a warm, loving heart will forever be pulsating in the beat of happy days spent in Paris.

Notes for L’Heure Attendue: lily of the valley, geranium, lilac; ylang-ylang, jasmine, rose, opopanax; Mysore sandalwood, vanilla, patchouli.

Câline, composed by then in-house perfumer Henri Giboulet, was released by Jean Patou in 1964 as “the first perfume dedicated to teenage girls”. Which means it is unfathomable on anyone who is considered so today! This unblushing aphorism might provoke a flood of inner dialogue in which two sides of consience passionately argue about older and younger mores and how times have irrevocably changed. But the epoch from which Câline hails was by all accounts the era in which young girls aspired to become mature ladies pretty soon, not pigtailed 50-year-olds who carry Hello Kitty bags. There was validation in becoming a grown-up, an antithetical mood to the hysteria of the youth cult which catapulted itself into our consiousness after the 60s. There was nothing apologetic about being older, like there wasn’t either about being younger. Angst and ennui were notions that were just beginning to morph in a world which had healed at long last its WWII scars and envisioned a prosperous future full of the latest technological advancements.

The greenly fresh aldehydic sophistication and malleable primness of Patou’s Câline remind me of Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina, after her European trip in which she becomes a proper “lady”, almost unrecognizable to those who knew her as merely the chauffer’s daughter to the rich family. That je ne sais quoi, which her stay in Paris to amend her broken heart polished her with, is reflected in the refined and discreet trail that Câline leaves behind like a reminder of decorum; or the murmur of enchanting and yet bounded femininity expressed in shadowy iris and insouciant orange blossom, underscored by earthy mossy tones which simultaneously recall shades of Ma Griffe and Ivoire. The piquancy of a basil spicy-like note along with coriander put the finishing touch in its image: It’s poised, ladylike in her kitten-heels and too eager to don the classic pearl necklace with a desire that borders on the ironically saucy.

Not to be confused with Gres Caline from 2005 (nor its flankers, Caline Night and Caline Sweet Appeal)

Notes for Câline: green citrus, spices, jasmin, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, moss, musk.

Clip originally uploaded by zegoar on Youtube. Lauren Bacall and Casablanca pic via Wikipedia. Audrey Hepburn pic via Audrey1. Bottle pics courtesy of Basenotes.