Tagged yet again!

I have been tagged yet again by two wonderful bloggers: oenophiliac (and sensexplorer) Chris from Vetivresse and the formidable on many levels Ayala from Smelly Blog.

Quick recap of rules: 1. Link to the person who tagged you 2. Post the rules on your blog 3. Write six random things about yourself 4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them 5. Let each person know they've been tagged and leave a comment on their blog 6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Of course as I have already admitted some of my "dark" secrets, I thought this time I'd share some of my perfumed ones....

1. I have a strange aversion to the smell of burnt nutmeg pods, thanks to an "experiment" I conducted when young. I really like nutmeg as a note however and enjoy the spice in cooking.
2. My perfume hero is my maternal grandmother: she had the knack of scoring every classic-to-be when she was young resulting in an impressive collection through her middle and advanced age and an array of bottles the stuff of daydreams for her descendants. I often take my inspiration from her.
3. The smell of those pumping valves at the gas station? Makes me rather nauseous...contrary to my significant other who inhales deeply.
4. Pee has an interesting nuance of what the other person has drunk and/or eaten. I make a mental note (and guess) when visiting toilets in public places. My hypotheses have the invaluable advantage of not being able to be proven wrong (unless I want to end up incarcerated or something!) which makes me feel rather smug about it ("Hey, check out that garlic fest! Must have been skordalia!").
5. I must have read Das Parfum 10 times since I first did as a very young girl; 4 of those have been in the last 4 years ~it's become a weird annual evaluation of how far I have gone into the fragrant journey; the day I am fed up with Grenouille's efforts is probably the day I lose interest in fragrance altogether I like to think. (although I often re-read books that made an impression)
6. I have long reached the point when I leave bought samples unsniffed for weeks on end. It's called saturation; or is it satiation? The day I leave them unsniffed for ever after will be the day I lose my interest in fragrance altogether. That day hasn't come yet.



And who am I tagging this time since I already tagged my unsung heroes and many regulars have also been tagged? Angela Sanders, a precious contributor of the articles which every perfumista identifies with on Now Smell This, Erik from the German Aromatisches Blog, Karin the life-savant of Savvy Thinker, Michelle with her pansensorial articles from Glass Petal Smoke, Rose from the very British Rose beyond the Thames, and the new entry immersed in the arts world at Nose About Town .

Feel free to elaborate on little known facts that have to do with your life or your path to perfumedom!

Clip originally uploaded by leo1946 on Youtube.

Vega by Guerlain: fragrance review (vintage vs.re-issue)

Véga was originally created in the 1930's, in 1936 to be precise, by Jacques Guerlain. It was such a loaded year: the Berlin Olympics, the Nobel for Eugene O' Neil and cinematically speaking My man Godfrey with Carole Lombard who could wear this perfume effortlessly. The recreation was undertaken by Jean Paul Guerlain for the opening of the renovated Boutique Guerlain in 2005 and bears his mark alongside the well-known Guerlinade base. It entered the Legacy collection, known under the name Il était une fois (=once upon a time). Belonging to the family of aldehydic florals that first took off with the infamous introduction of Chanel No.5 in 1921 by Ernest Beaux, Véga has the fizzying, sparkling element of the aldehydic opening, that can sometimes smell waxy or even soapy.

Vega is such a beautiful name: being the brightest star in the α Lyra constellation and the 5th brightest star we can see in the sky, it has 58 times the brilliance of the sun, although scientists tell us that they are full of cosmic dust. The name however evokes luminosity and the perspective of cosmos: In 1936 Paris was indeed the capital of Light, the chic metropolis of every emerging trend, the place to be!

The original jazzy Véga in vintage Eau de Toilette traipses along the classic school of aldehydics with a luminous, expansive quality and softly powdery rosey and iris notes that support the warmth of sweet flowers ~notably the piecingly sweet ylang- ylang~ and the familiar vanillic touch of the Guerlinade base that takes a creamy nuance: the lustre of big pearls worn at the open neckline of a soft cloak under marcelled hair to go out for a night of folly.
Perhaps that aldehydic arpeggio is a nod to the take-off in Chanel's No.22 as well. The notes sing in a beautiful choral that hums melodiously.
According to toutenparfum in 1995 or 1997 according to other sources (later which would co-incide with the 1996 LVMH takeover and therefore seems more probable), Véga was briefly re-introduced and swiftly disappeared again. The bottle was short and cylindrical with a bulby cap, resembling the original inkwell flacon shown in the above vintage print ad.

In the 2005 re-issue of Véga those diffusive soapy-powdery notes are softened, to suit modern tastes who have arguably distanced themselves from the more perfume-y tastes of yore. However that is not to the detriment of the perfume at all. Rather it emphasises the rich floral heart while the two versions are not dramatically different. The ylang ylang is the predominant note in the new composition, a jasmine-like scented flower with a somewhat fruity aspect; jasmine and orange blossom come along too from the wings as supporting players. Véga also features fleur de cassie (acacia farnesiana) with its rich smell, like cat's paws immersed in milk, a whiff of heliotrope. Although iris and rosewood are listed, they were not to be found in the re-issue, at least not in the usual earthy version I come to witness in most true iris perfumes, like Luten's Iris Silver Mist or Hiris. That sweet floral heart in combination with the Guerlain vanillic warmth and the plush vetiver-amber base reminds me of the fond of Vol de Nuit and Shalimar at the same time without the smokey den ambienace of the vintage forms of the latter. That is to say Véga definitely has an animalic musky tonality in it that would potentially drive off people not attuned to full, hazy florals. It is not a perfume for shying violets!
Although the heart and base have elements of Chanel No.5, especially in its parfum version, Véga is at once less naughty and woodier. That darker, more serious element is a great attribute of the creation and although it is only an idea of darkness really, it still manages to make the perfume rise above merely pretty. Guerlain has always had an affinity for making likeable and wearable perfumes, often taking inspiration from other compositions and "making them laugh", like Jacques Guerlain did with Shalimar and Mitsouko (inspired in part by Coty Emeraude and Chypre respectively). Guerlain's other aldehydic floral from the period between the two World Wars, Liù, was another one inspired by Chanel No.5, but in comparison to Véga the latter seems soapier and more angular. They both have a bourgeois sensibility that makes for generally very "French"-smelling perfumes; at least in what is considered French in the collective unconscious, France being a vast country embracing many different cultural stimuli. This is the case here with Véga and this aldehydic may be a wonderful alternative for people who cannot enjoy Chanel No.5 or Arpège or even the fabulous Editions des parfums Frédéric Malle Iris Poudre.

The vintage parfum circulated in the inkwell-shaped bottle, while the Eau de Toilette is to be found in the large oval bottles (as depicted) on Ebay. There seemed to be also an Eau de Parfum version which however I have not tried yet. The 2005 re-issue of Véga is currently available exclusively at boutiques Guerlain and the Bergdorf Goodman's éspace Guerlain in Eau de Toilette in a 125ml splash cylindrical bottle tied with a gold thread on the neck and the Guerlain seal flat on the cap.


Notes for Véga:
Top: aldehydes, bergamot, orange blossom
Middle: jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, fleur de cassie, rose, carnation, rosewood, iris
Bottom: sandalwood, amber, vanilla

Please read another review in French on Ambre Gris.

Pic of Vega ad courtesy of euart.com. Bottle pics through etna.borda.ru, Victoria's Own and mr.Guerlain (collector).

Chandler Burr interviewed about his upcoming New York Times Talk

We had announced the other day about an upcoming lecture encompassing a "Brief History of Perfume from 1889 to 2008", hosted by the New York Times and fronted by Chandler Burr, journalist, author and fragrance critic for the New York Times. Perfume Shrine had a few questions to ask about this exciting upcoming event and since many of you could be interested to participate (click here for info on how), I thought it might prove interesting. I am in no position to reveal what fragrances will be presented and analysed for your sniffing enjoyment (it would spoil the surprise), but I can shed a little light with aid of Chandler himself who was delightful to talk to as always.

PS: So Chandler, what is so different in these New York Times Talks as opposed to your scent dinners? ~apart from the dining part, of course!

CB: The lecture is a completely different intellectual and aesthetic focus. The dinners use only culinary perfumes and food-based raw materials (vanillin, chocolate and fruit accords, etc.). The lecture will be 15 of the landmark scent works of art, comparing them to art and music.

PS: Which are the criteria with which you came upon a selection of 15 perfumes to present? Is it their iconic status, their shaping the trends potential, artistic value and innovation or something else?

CB: The final decision is based on innovation and/or iconic status. These are, in my view, scents that changed perfume either by their technical differences or their aesthetic novelty.

PS: Who is attending these talks? Who would you like to see attending?

CB: Really anyone interested in scent. Obviously there are a lot of industry people coming since it's their products I'm discussing, and a lot of people who are perfume lovers, but we're planning on speaking to many who simply are interested in the idea of the subject and know nothing about perfume at all.

PS: On that note: Do you think that the opening up of as yet untapped audiences thanks to the power of the Internet presents a challenge to the companies? If so, do they welcome or abhor it? For instance, the increasingly raised interest in perfumery as evidenced in such events as your talk or other events helps towards a better appreciation of the art of perfumery or is it slowly but surely harnessed ~with some difficulty perhaps~ into a new marketing technique for the industry?

CB: I think that fundamentally the industry both loves and hates the internet, and that's entirely normal. They dislike the lack of control-- they were used to controlling the entire image of the perfumes and all the information written about them, and that's gone. But they love-- as they should-- the flows of interest in perfume and the discussion of it. Ultimately it's just going to make it more interesting to more people.

PS: What would be your hope for people who will attend your talk to retain as a memory of this event?

CB: What I think will be most startling to people is my contention, which I hope to demonstrate with visual art and music, that perfume is an art form equal in its medium to painting and music. I stipulate "in its medium" because each sense is different, and each has different abilities to stimulate the brain (which is all art does anyway). The point is that perfume is, in fact, an art, something I think most people are startled to hear.

PS: And finally something I'd been meaning to ask for ever: Could you pinpoint one specific fragrance which you consider a supreme masterpiece yourself? (that's quite difficult, I know...but I wanted to ask anyway)

CB: I just think that's impossible. It's like choosing the greatest painting. Unimaginable.

PS: Thanks Chandler for your time and hope the lecture goes as you wish it to.


Please read a full interview with Chandler Burr on assorted matters around perfumery, writing and fragrance criticism on Perfume Shrine clicking here for part 1 and part 2.

Painting by Salvador Dali Self-portrait Mona Lisa 1954 via euart.com

Ode by Guerlain: fragrance review and history

He locked the door behind him and came over and sat on her bed and put one hand firmly on the little hill that was her left breast. "Now listen, Tracy" he began, meaning to ask her at least one or two questions, find out something about this wonderful girl who did hysterical things like gambling without the money to meet her debts, driving like a potential suicide, hinting that she had had enough of life. But the girl reached up a swift hand that smelt of Guerlain's Ode and put it across his lips. "I said 'no conversation'. Take off those clothes. Make love to me. You are handsome and strong. I want to remember what it can be like. Do anything you like. And tell me what you like and what you would like from me. Be rough with me. Treat me like the lowest whore in creation. Forget everything else. No questions. Take me.”

If the above piece of prose is nudging you into an abyss of sensual surrender (and a little sideways feministic complaining as well), it's all because Ian Flemming knew a thing or two about perfumes and their secret language. Coming aboard chapter 4 in his novela "On Her Majesty's Secret Service", Ode is making an appearence as the feminine wile that seals the sentimental trap for James Bond: the one time in the old series when he falls in love.

Much like Liù is Guerlain's warmer interpretation of the aldehydic vision of Chanel's No.5, Ode is the Reconquista of the floral territory of classical luxury held by Patou's Joy. Yet it is also taking a page off the book of Arpège by Lanvin, another aldehydic floral, merging the two into an abstract creation that smells like a woman; like a woman very much of the era of its creation, I should clarify.
Jacques Guerlain created Ode, his last perfume, in 1955 with the assistance of his grandson Jean-Paul (aged 18 years at the time), heir to the family vault of formulae, passing the baton to catapult the house into the modern times: it was only a few years later that Jean Paul would write his own history with the fresh tonic Vétiver and the delicate caress of Chant d'Arômes.
Putting on Ode in extrait de parfum and contemplaing its time-frame however never fails to make me wonder how those milliners (Chanel began as one) and dressmakers played such a major part in the consciousness of even old and traditional perfumery houses such as Guerlain! And also how the platonic ~rather than the literal~ idea of flowers as transfigured into a feminine fragrance stood as the semiotics of how a woman was supposed to smell like in those times. After the roaring 1920s and 1930s with their strange and brave revolutions such as Guerlain's own Djedi , Mitsouko or Shalimar , the emancipated dukey Tabac Blond by Caron or Cuir de Russie by Chanel and the shocking evocations of Piguet's Bandit during the war, the mould would slowly fall back into traditional femininity as women eased their way out of the laboring workforce and into the homely caregivers or obedient secretaries. In 1955 a floral perfume should be more than the summation of its parts (Chanel's dictum that no woman wanted to smell like a rose bed had caught on firmly) yet also less of the animalics and sophisticated bombastics of the garçonnes' era.

Ode stands as a luminous floral in the Guerlain galaxy focusing on the luxurious rose and jasmine accord that is the pillar of classical French perfumery, yet it infuses it with gentle musk and a bit of the Guerlain vanilla which gives a warm, round feel. The rose is slightly more accentuated than jasmine to my sensibility, but perhaps this has to do with my desire to immerse myself in the indolic aroma of jasmine that makes me experience this as a void. Despite the passionate prose by Ian Flemming, Ode by Guerlain is subdued and elegant through an overture of aldehydes that nod to Arpège and a creamy, slightly powdery base of delicate iris and musks. Toned down compared to both its antecedants, it is gentle and retro feminine and it makes me feel that it wouldn't be hugely popular with today's sensibilities. In extrait de parfum it stays close to the skin as an invitation for further evaluation.

The original bottle of Ode, much like Liù, was inspired by the imposing American skyscrapers. It featured a curvilinear flacon design, partly frosted, and it was crowned with a rosebud stopper. The flacon was manufatured by both Bacarrat and Pochet et du Courval (the different manufacturer can be traced via the acid stamps on the bottom of the bottles) at different times. The design proved to be so successful that it hosted Vol de Nuit, Shalimar and Mitsouko as well in the early and mid 1950s.

Although Ode should have already been the next installment in the legacy collection Il était une fois after Véga in 2005 and Sous le Vent in 2006, no news of an upcoming launch have been issued more than a year after the supposed launch (summer of 2007) and the collection remains thus mangled. Along with Kadine (1911) and Cachet Jaune (1937) they were re-issued in 2005 for demonstration purposes for the celebration of the Paris flagship store renovation, where you can catch a whiff of those long-defunct perfumes being vaporised in the air inside the infamous "microwave oven" contraptions. Let us hope that Ode will join the legacy collection at some point and not remain a memory of things irrevocably past.

Notes for Ode: rose, jasmine, woods, musk

Pics of Ode ads through Toute en parfum and Parfum de pub.

Halloween Flights

Along with the good people at Hermès who sent me this, I am wishing you all a most happy, spooky Halloween.