Saturday, September 6, 2008

Credit to Sniffapalooza

Congrats to Raphaella Brescia Barkley, Editor in Chief of the Sniffapalooza Magazine, for scoring: the online magazine that emerged out of the Snifapalooza NYC event has been going from strength to strength lately and has found its audience, among them people from the industry. According to the latest newsletter:
"Just one of the most famous perfumers of our time, MICHEL ROUDNITSKA has signed the Sniffapalooza Magazine Guest Book.
Mandy Aftel also signed last week-a double honor from two completely different artists".
To view, click on the Sniffapalooza link and scroll to bottom of main page. Click on “view entries”.

Special congratulations also to Michelyn Camen for the series of Fragrance & the Arts, a fun approach to fragrance reviewing.

Logo pic courtesy of Sniffapalooza

Reduced Prices at Neil Morris

We're pleased to bring you good news for Neil Morris fans: contrary to most firms, there is a decrease in prices, which is great if you have been contemplating getting one of those famous Vault scents (I highly recommend Dark Season, Dark Earth and Parfum d'Ida).

Here are the news from Neil's blog via his business partner David:
"Over the past several months our sales of the Vault fragrances has
steadily increased. With this increase in sales we are able to buy our raw
materials and supplies in larger quantities and discounted prices. We are also
able to make them in larger batches increasing our productivity and
efficiency. As our way of saying thanks for supporting us we are passing on some
of the savings to your our customers. We are reducing the price of our Vault
fragrances from $150.00 to $125.00 for each two ounce bottle of Parfum".

(thanks to Kristy for pointing this out to me)

Friday, September 5, 2008

Sycomore by Chanel: fragrance review


"Do you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss, Beauty?
Your gaze, divine and infernal,
Pours out confusedly benevolence and crime,
And one may for that, compare you to wine ...
From God or Satan, who cares? Angel or Siren,
Who cares, if you make— fay with the velvet eyes,

Rhythm, perfume, glimmer; my one and only queen!
The world less hideous, the minutes less leaden?"
~Hymn to Beauty, Charles Baudelaire

In 1930, Coco Chanel had a dream: she envisioned the perfect, most beautiful woody perfume that was baroque in feeling, yet bore no frills. The result, Sycomore, a 'woody scent with balsamic notes' composed by her Russian perfumer Ernest Beaux, was not appreciated in its time and soon disappeared. Just shy of 80 years in the making, Jacques Polge and Christopher Sheldrake, resident noses at Chanel, recomposed the woody vision of mademoiselle Coco and the finished fragrance forms part of Les Exclusifs ~Chanel's prestige line. The two however do not bear any similarity: The vintage Sycomore had "a distinct tobacco-violet note and all the other elements (few) built to enhance this idea" according to Octavian Coifan while in comparison the new version is very much centered around true vetiver; and a smokey one at that.
In many ways it is a departure from the other iris-ladden Les Exclusifs which affirm their Chanel pedigree by use of costly raw materials evoking segments of previous successes of the brand. Sycomore does not.

Sycomore instead emphasizes its aristocratic dryness of humble origin with a tangy grapefruit opening and subtly cooling, clean muguet notes that complement the Haitian vetiver variety, also used in Guerlain Vétiver, so well. Almost simultaneously it allows soft impressions of a warm incense cloud slowly setting upon evergreen needles and rooty dirt (a la Route de Vétiver by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier) to uplift you into a wistful and introspective contemplation of life and mortality. And if you lower your head and pay attention to its murmur, a resinous, only marginally sweet touch of the licorice note that naturally arises in several distillations of the material itself, slightly reminiscent of Dior's Eau Noire drydown, vibrates at a low frequency, along with woodfire smoke.

Officially marketed as feminine for women who do not like flowery compositions, yet cunningly poised between the two sexes, it has an hermaphrodite side that whispers of something mysteriously chic, chastetly beautiful and utterly unattainable; like Björn Andrésen, the youth Tadzio in Luchino Visconti's 1971 "Death in Venice" (the film adaptation of Thomas Mann's masterful novel).
His remarkable androgynous beauty prompted feminist Germaine Greer to use a photograph of Andrésen on the cover of her book "The Beautiful Boy" (2003). She would have approved of a scent strip of Sycomore tucked in there too.



The musical score is Gustav Mahler's "Adagietto" from his 5th Symphony.

Notes for Sycomore (2008) by Chanel: Vetiver, cypress, juniper, pink pepper, smoke, burning woods.

Sycomore is available at $190 for 200ml Eau de Toilette exclusively at Chanel boutiques. Considering it uncharacteristically lasts quite well, it is an investement.






Andrésen pic via moviemail-online.co.uk Bottle pic via Vogue.com.tw
Clip originally uploaded by AssimQuePuderes on Youtube.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

The Guerlain Conundrum

If you have been under a rock in a cave in the Sumatran soil, you might have missed the discussion around Guerlain's modus operandi of the last few years. Let's do a very brief recap for those of you who might have: First there was a colossus who bought an historical house: LVMH (that's Louis Vuitton Moet Hennesy) ~the Guerlain boutique at 68 Champs Elysees is getting refurbished and Guerlain starts to produce "niche" and exclusive lines within the brand as well as "for old time's sake" re-issues for those who have access to select distribution and serious trust funds. Then someone pronounces "The End of Civilization as We Know it", when news of a reformulation of one of the house's masterpieces leak: the perfume community sounds its barbaric yawp through the rooftops of the world and Isabelle Rousseau's mail gets spammed. Then that someone changes their mind about a year and a half later pronouncing the pneuma of the original living on in the current juice (sorry, I don't want to go there). In the meantime, industrious Guerlain launches juice after juice, flanker after flanker and name change after name change like the equivalent of Japanese labor on strike: working a 64-hour week. Do they even have time to smell the roses?
And when outsourcing is proving too incoherent, when Jean Paul is petering out after years of faithful service, they hire one of their Givaudan protegés, their own resident nose.
Last but not least, they issue out their take on erotic tittilation that reads like Régine Deforges on crack for Carnal Elixirs ~a MUA reader succinctly described it as "some Paris Hilton Goes to Versailles nightmare script": if you haven't yet read it, do so on Perfume Posse and don't miss the comments. I admit I didn't make the "charnel house" connection right away but the prose was such a deepest shade of purple I didn't have available grey cells left to proceed the data.
And of course prices are skyrocketing all the while: on everything, up till now cheap and cheaper, as if some strange magnetic force is making them all stick together like iron particles .

What exactly is happening to Guerlain? That's not me asking; that's the whole perfume buying public who lowers their brow in awe and respect when entering the Abode; an abode which will become a mausoleum if they lose that respect.

Let's take things from the top. Lutens was on the vanguard of the conceptual fragrance line. When the Salons du Palais Royal opened its doors in 1992, there was no one doing "niche". Apart from those who had small artisanal businesses at the back yard of their homes and they were lovingly preparing batches for themselves and their friends, of course. Or the special commissions by rich people to specific perfume houses. But these are not general exempla, emulated by many.
Lutens went where no one had dared set foot before: art-directing a whole series of scents that were inspired by specific visions of a very individual culture, made with traditional care yet modern flair ~in essence, a pioneering act of defiance to current trends (I am reminding you these were the ozonic/marine 90s). He must have lost quite a bit of money at first, as both the formulae were expensive (too many costly natural ingredients) and the packaging, decor and scenario were fine-tuned like a fine specimen by Stradivari.

Success comes to those who wait and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery: A few years later almost everyone was doing their own Lutenesque vision.
The exclusivity factor caught on and everyone started realising that the lack of "marketing" on Lutens's part on the Paris exclusives was indeed an admirable marketing tool: the oldest one, actually ~deny this which could be had and you create desire!
Consequently, this avalanche of exclusive lines within big brands who cater for two different clienteles, it seems: The hoi polloi and the connoisseurs. [The latter term can be thought to be an euphemism for those who are willing to spend a lot of money and energy hunting down what is elusive yet not always worthwhile, but I will return on this at some other time].
One house followed another in this "game". Hermès was the first to launch an exclusive line of haughty-mighty sparse fragrances (like eating raw artichokes is the pinacle of savoir-faire) for their "boutiques only" just when they hired a resident nose in a move that was crucial: the Hermessences.
I am pretty sure Chanel saw the desirability factor of the Hermessences and launched Les Exclusifs in turn: appearing like elegant sketches rather than finished oil on canvases, they utilised modern interpretations of older spermatic ideas in previous fragrances of the house. Even Lancôme re-issued some of their past successes in La Collection, including Cuir, and Givenchy did Les Mythiques.

What was Guerlain to do? The above houses were not primarily perfume houses. Hermès is a glorified saddlery. Chanel an iconic fashion house who had their own cornering on chic that needed modernising in the 80s to get out of the moth-balls of inertia. Givenchy is a designer house relying on the designer's quixotic pursue of elegance, not for some time now. Lancome was skincare and cosmetics and try to convince me otherwise.
Guerlain had a legend in their hands: Shalimar (amidst myriads, assuredly, but I'm willing to accept it's their calling card) as well as an arch-snob that demands an acquired taste much like a Trapeze-monk-produced-beer fermented in the bottle (ie.Mitsouko). With the craziness about gourmands in recent years surely they could have tapped that potential and produced something sophisticated and rich in that vein. After all their exquisite treatment of vanillin has consolidated their mythos. Would it be enough?
I think they were terribly late with their Spirituese Double Vanille (which admitedly sounds much worse than it actually smells; fist faux pas). Their Shalimar Light was brilliant and they should have pursued in that course stylistically (not in the onomatopoieia part though, because it evokes sugar-free sodas to mind and that wouldn't help; second faux pas).

Guerlain realised they couldn't be left out of the "game" everyone was playing: Enter L'art et la Matière line ~at least visually, but also semantically, very much inspired by the Lutens portfolio. Guerlain fans are crazy about Guerlain anyway, but this allowed them to approach a segment of the niche audience who was after more conceptualised, modern series with lyrical and strange names ( à la Tubereuse Criminelle, which is surely behind the Rose Barbare or Angélique Noire moniker).

It seems to me that Guerlain is on an especially precarious balance: they need to respect their historical tradition (which after all, as an historian, can't help but respect) and to enrich it with some modernity (otherwise they will get obsolete and slowly die along with their old customers). But the practical problem is Guerlain afficionados are not interested in modernity: they want tradition! That die-hard core base is too small to sustain the house alone, however, so they need to corner the modern market (new parties interested in the "hard to get") as well as the mass market to get profits that would fuel the above two scenarios.
Therefore they neededed to proceed with segmentation, which they did on the antithetical poles of tradition and modernity:

1) the Il Etait une fois line for the serious traditionalists and collectors in Baccarat crystal bottles with special etchings and Jean Paul's boutonnière molded out of wax (über-tradition of the upper echelons with a price tag to reach the stars)
2) the classic stable of dependables, such as Shalimar, L'heure Bleue, Vétiver et al, with some lifting ~that never gets admitted~ for the old, loyal fans (conservative traditionalists)
3) Les Parisiennes for the younger fans with the desire to hop to Paris and get a memento from a great museum-store (tradition and modernity hand in hand: limited editions that scream "new" in old, royally embossed bottles; travel exclusives that created a following but now put on their party clothes and are unwilling to stay overnight unless you order Veuve Cliquot with those nachos)
4) L'art et la Matiere line (audience: the press people, the niche fans, the blogosphere, the marketing people at rival firms getting a heart attack ~modernity that shows we're alive and kicking, by Jove!).

These moves did revamp their profit margin and their "niche" appeal as well as the interest of collectors and perfume lovers of vintage.
And now they growl "for the animal in you" with their mojito-sounding Guerlain Homme and play light bondage games with their Elixir Charnels. It's like a temporary tattoo for kids, hidden in a bag of Cheetos: be a man and go the whole hog with it, damn it!

Will these moves see them through thick and thin in the future? I am very much afraid that they are not ready to see just how deep down the rabbit hole goes...



Photography by Maria Brink courtesy of What Up Thug blog. Guerlain garden at EPCOT courtesy of anelson823

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

New face for Shalimar by Guerlain


One of my loyal and discerning readers, AlbertCan, informed me a few days ago that according to Forbes, Natalia Vodianova had signed with Guerlain (among others) to front products in their advertising campaigns. The news he scooped (and allowed me to elaborate on, bless his generous heart) are that she is to front their iconic oriental, Shalimar.
Perfume Shrine couldn't leave this without some comment, naturally.

Natalia is gorgeous, of course. And her rags-to-riches fairy tale life story makes for interesting reading, peppered with the touches of iconography that fans want their eponymous role-models to assimilate (charity participation, loving family of her own etc). Hailing from the historical Novgorod, a seat of medieval princes (later, under Soviet rule, named Gorgy in honour of the writer Maxim Gorky), she is now a princess herself, married to a Viscount no less. The Cinderella touch...
She even has something nice to say about all the photographers who shot her:
"Paolo Roversi is really Italian and makes you feel so beautiful. Mario Testino has that incredible talent of making not only you but everyone around you feel very special. Steven Meisel is so organized and focused, and he always thinks about you as a person and makes sure you're comfortable. Patrick Demarchelier is like a big teddy bear, and a really nice person. And Bruce Weber is like Father Christmas--he never forgets about you. He's very generous."

Where I am getting at?

Natalia's current image of super-polite ice-princess with a deer-in-the-headlights look somehow doesn't suit the idea of Shalimar as the uber-seductive, cunninigly selectioned potion in the galaxy of orientals; nor the brunette type of orientalised romantic ideal that Guerlain has been cultivating for years through the associations of the name with the Indian Gardens on which a great love story flowered. After Shalom Harlow and Fernanda Tavares, Natalia seems too blonde and too innocent(?) for this kind of job.
Additionally, there is also the issue of always choosing the whitest Caucasian women for big advertising campaigns of European houses, when it would be nice for a change if we saw a gorgeous black model or a Latina -I am not counting Tavares because she's not- for one of those brands (like Eva Mendes for Calvin Klein's latest Secret Obsession) or a genuine oriental type (remember Jasmin Ghauri?): if not for Shalimar, then for what? I am asking you!

On the other hand, some of the photos that Steven Meisel shot of Natalia for Vogue are definitely the stuff of oneiric gazing that doesn't involve labrador puppies and a house with a white fence in the suburbs... Nor does this one from French Vogue 2005. Same goes still for this photo-shoot for W magazine in 2006. Coincidentally, Paolo Roversi who is responsible for some of her most haunting portraits, has just shot the new print campaign for Shalimar.




Possibly, therefore, there are as many facets and as many pools of dangerous waters to a person as she is willing to plunge herself into!
I am thus eagerly looking forward to see how this advertising campaign for Shalimar featuring Natalia Vodianova will go. We will return with commentary soon!

EDITED TO ADD on 4th September:
An anonymous reader has been very kind in getting us a glimpse of the new campaign, so here it is:



Next we will be focusing on detail on the moves of the Guerlain brand, with an article that might instigate discussion.
And inspired by the new blood in the Shalimar project, we will be reviewing both the original and the flankers of this industrious and profitable for Guerlain monument of perfumery next week. Stay tuned!

Pic of Natalia Vodianova from Vogue. Pics of Shalimar ads (with Shalom Harlow and Fernanda Tavares) courtesy of parfumsdepub.

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