Pour Troubler by Guerlain: fragrance review of a rare gem

"Her extraordinarily dark black eyes were so captivating, they were of such intensity that it was impossible not to be detained before them". The French have a wonderful verb to denote the agitation and emotional anxiety one is experiencing upon encountering a compelling and unsettling sight (usually one that involves a wily attractive woman): troubler. And coupled with the immortal words of Georges Braque : "L'art est fait pour troubler, la science rassure" (Art is made for unsettling, science reassures), this French verb took on a dual meaning in the onomastics stakes of the 1911 Pour Troubler perfume by Guerlain.

This gnomic attachment points to a scent fit for Liane de Pougy or even La Belle Otero, for the eyes of which the above image was put into such passionate words, yet in doing so Guerlain also managed to inject perfumery with apertures of bizarre cubiques through which we get a glimpse of a puzzling game of connotations. On the other hand the passionate, fatally mad love that transcends logic has always been at the core of Guerlain's promotional material, even in more obscure creations such as Voilà pourquoi j'aimais Rosine or Vague Souvenir (1912); and Pour Troubler is no exception.

The orientalised theme that slowly unfolds as the first drops of Pour Troubler begin their journey on the skin are ingrained in the evolving fashions of the first years of the second decade of the 20th century. The early 1910s saw fashionable feminine silhouettes become much more lithe, softer than at the beginning of La Belle Epoque and with a fluidity immortalised in Isadora Duncan's dance performances. Notably it was Les Ballets Russes performing Scheherazade in Paris in 1910 that sparked a craze for Orientalism. Couturier Paul Poiret was prompted to translate this vogue into opulent visions of harem girls and exotic geishas which catapulted the bastions of conservative circles into desiring the forbidden mysteries of the sensuous East.

Although no given notes exist for this Guerlain fragrance I tried to ponder on its structure as I contemplated the history of the house and the lineage, using this composition as a porthole into the creation process to follow. The initial impression of Pour Troubler is one of sweet, confectionary type licorice-anise, but not exactly veering into the beloved macaroon delicasy yet, which makes me think here was the spermatic idea behind L'Heure Bleue which materialized a year later. Indeed the reworking of several of the themes of L'Heure Bleue into both Fol Arôme(1912) and Pois de senteur (1917) indicates that Jacques Guerlain was working and re-working on certain aspects to emphasize nuanced ideas: from the romantically melancholic moment of day melting into the warm floral effluvium of the night, to the sensuous invitation to folly accompanied by fruits underpinned by absinthe-y tipsiness, finally leading to the honeyed sweet Miel Blanc* with spice accents. The anisic sweetness accord of Pour Troubler smells imbued with the softness of powdery violets and cool iris notes that give a gentle ambience, contrasted with richer florals like jasmine and what seems like jonquil, appearing in its heart. The florals treated in a transparent study of black and white softly fuse to reveal a hazy daguerreotype. Through this gentle fog the warmth of amber along with some bitterness of leather notes and sweet balsams polish the scent off in the embrace of a courtesan pictured in patina-laden postcards.

Extrait came in a quatrilobe capped Bacarrat flacon, same as the one used for Jicky (and later used for many other fragrances in the Guerlain stable). Eau de Cologne concentration, of which I am now proud owner of, came in the "disk" bottles with the pyramidal stopper, popular in the 50s and 60s. Pour Troubler is long discontinued, rendering it a rare occurence in online auctions.

A sample of this extremely rare fragrance will be given out to a random lucky reader!


*a perfumer's base by laboratoires de Laire redolent of honey

Lithograph "figure" by Georges Braque via allposters.com. POstcard of Carolina Otero via wikimedia commons. Parfum bottle courtesy of Russian site Palomka.livejournal.

Sous le Vent by Guerlain: fragrance review (vintage vs.re-issue)

"Funny business, a woman's career. The things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them when you get back to being a woman." The apothecary splash bottle of Sous le Vent by Guerlain resting atop my dresser with its black, disk-shaped label with gold lettering encircling it, makes me think of the logos of old cinematic companies long defunct starring dramatic heroines with high cheekbones hissing deathly lines clad in impeccable tweeds or gala-time smooth silks. Betty Davies in "All About Eve" comes to my mind as she utters those lines, her character in stark contrast to the outwardly maudlin yet steel-hearted assistant-cum-antagonist Eve Harrington.

Although a literal translation would indicate "in the wind", Sous le Vent is French for "leeward" after the name of the tropical Leeward Isles of the lesser Antilles in the Caribbean: indeed the islands are divided into Windward and Leeward groups. Many among those "greener than a dream" isles were colonised by the French, accounting for an interesting, non-coincidental analogy ~the fruit of the Americas which has been Frenchified into Créole. Sous le Vent was composed by Jacques Guerlain for Joséphine Baker in 1933, according to the charming pamphlet provided by the boutique, as a pick-me up for applying after her notorious dance performances in which she often appeared in nothing more than an all too brief skirt made out of bananas on a string. Strutting her proud gazelle frame in the streets of Paris with a pet leopard in tow made everyone forget about Freda Josephine McDonald's humble St.Louis, Missouri birthplace and her vaudeville beginnings, evoking instead the glamourised image of a jungle animal: fierce, supple, ready to leap! And long before Angelina Jolie and Mia Farrow, she had adopted her own Rainbow Tribe: 12 multi-ethnic orphans, proving that titillation of the public and activism aren't mutually exclusive.

It is of interest to note in the iconography of Guerlain print material on their 20s and 30s scents that Sous Le Vent was featured in characteristic illustrations in the "Are you her type" series that included Mitsouko, Vol de Nuit , Liù and Shalimar, indicating that its eclipse among the classics in subsequent years was not due to a lack of intent. Les garçonnes were its natural audience but the ravages of WWII brought other sensibilities to the fore making an angular androgyne scent antithetical to the femme totemism of the new epoch in which the purring, slightly breathless tones of Marilyn Monroe caressed weary ears. It took Guerlain decades to re-issue it; finally a propos the refurbishing of the 68 Champs Elysées flagship store it was the second one to join the legacy collection affectionally called "il était une fois" (=once upon a time) in 2006 after Véga.

I am in the lucky position to be able to compare an older batch of extrait de parfum with my own bottle of the re-issued juice, and although Luca Turin in his latest book claims that the new is very different from his recollection questioning whether it is his memory or Guerlain's "that is at fault", I can attest that the two are certainly not dramatically different. Being a favourite of the black Venus of the merry times between two world wars, should give us a hint that Sous le Vent is a strong-minded affair of great sophistication and caliber. Difficult to wear as a scent to seduce or invite people to come and linger closer due to its acquiline nature, but very fitting as an unconscious weapon for a woman about to close a difficult business deal, embark on a divorce case or hire a professional assassin. It transpires strength! To that effect the vintage parfum offers rich verdancy, a mollified fond de coeur that is perhaps justified by the very nature of the more concentrated, less top-note-heavy coumpound needed for making the extrait or the diminuation of the effervescent citrus top notes. The modern eau de toilette is a little brighter, a little more streamlined and surprisingly a little sweeter in its final stages, yet quite excellent, making it a scent that always puts me in an energetic good mood wherever I apply it lavinshly -because it is alas rather fleeting- from the bottle.

Technically a chypre, yet poised between that and an aromatic fougère* to me, Sous le Vent bears no great relation to the mysterious guiles of Guerlain's Mitsouko but instead harkens back to the original inspiration behind it, Chypre de Coty, but also to another Guerlain thoroughbred ~Jicky (especially on what concerns the aromatic facet of lavender in the latter's eau de toilette concentration). Sous le Vent is both greener and fresher than Mitsouko and Jicky nevertheless, as it eschews the obvious animalic leapings yet retains the cinnamon/clove accent which will later be found in the fantastically "dirty" and underappreciated Eau d'Hermès. All the while however the piquancy that makes Coty's iconic oeuvre as well as Jicky so compelling is unmistakeably there.

Sous le Vent starts with a rush of subtly medicinal top notes of herbs that smell like lavender, rosemary and tarragon, a full spectrum of Provençal aromata. A tart bergamot note along with what seems like bitterly green galbanum skyrocket the scent into the territory of freshness and a smart "clean". Its next stage encompasses dry accords, soon mollified by the heart chord of a classic chypre composition of dusty moss with the sweet tonality of generous flowers that evoke the banana fruit: ylang ylang notably and jasmine sambac. In the final stages I seem to perceive the dusky foliage of patchouli.

Potent and assertive thought it first appears to be, a take-no-prisoners affair for a lady who was known to dance with only a skirt of bananas on, leaving her country for France and being idolized by all social strata, it screams of individualism and élan; yet strangely Sous le Vent, especially the gangly new version, doesn't invoke the scandalising side of Josephine nor her exuberant nature. Complex and elusive, it is certainly not an easy option for today’s women's sensibilities; it is rather too cerebral, too intelligent for its own good, not sexy enough. These qualities however would make it a wonderful masculine addition to a cocky fellow's repertoire. This travel back into more glamorous and individual times is worth the price of admission. Wear it if you are really interesting as a person, it will only enhance that quality.

Notes for Sous le Vent:
Top: bergamot, lavender, tarragon
Middle: jasmine, carnation, green notes
Base: iris, foresty notes, woody notes

The vintage parfum can be found on Ebay from time to time. The current re-issue in Eau de Toilette concentration is part of the Il était une fois collection exclusively sold at boutiques Guerlain and the éspace Guerlain at Bergdorf Goodman, housed in an apothecary style cylindrical bottle of 125ml with a gold thread securing a seal on the cap.

A sample of the modern re-issue will be given to a random lucky reader!

*Fougère is a classic olfactory family -mainly of masculine scents- that relies on a chord of lavender-coumarin-oakmoss.

Pic of Sous le Vent advertisement courtesy of femina.fr
Pic of Josephine Baker costumed for the Danse banane from the Folies Bergère production Un Vent de Folie in Paris (1927) courtesy of Wikimedia commons.

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