Interview with a Perfumer: Sandrine Videault

Hosting an interview with a perfumer is always a bit like drilling into the mind of an artist, garnering small tidbits that allow us a glimpse into the creation process and the conceptualising of images, memories and fantasies that someone articulate in the field of smell can translate into mesmerising voyages to the unknown. Smelling Manoumalia, the latest fragrance from Les Nez, parfums d'Auteurs, had been such a revelation and one of my happiest discoveries of the cusp of the year; and indeed the latest couple of seasons too! Naturally my interest on the creative force behind it had been piqued and I sought out Sandrine Videault, the perfumer ~a beautiful young woman who is a historical reconstitutions expert and one of the last students of legendary Edmond Roudnitska.
Sandrine was ever so gracious in giving me an interview on this scent and assorted matters having to do with perfumery. Therefore, it is with pride and great joy that I present you the little questions-and-answers we exchanged with Sandrine for Perfume Shrine.

PerfumeShrine: As a historian myself, I am especially interested in your historical installations which reprised themes from ancient civilisations (such as the sacred Kyphi from 2002 for the Cairo museum, the Metopion based on the resinous cones Egyptians supposedly put on their heads and The Song of the Senses based on Solomon's text Song of Songs) as well as olfactory projects for art exhibitions. The Greek writer Plutarch has obligingly handed down a recipe for Kyphi, which the guests at the opening of the Perfumes and Cosmetics of Ancient Egypt exhibition were among the first people since the time of the Pharaohs to smell it. A L’Oreal spokeskman described the reconstitution as revealing "hesperidic head-notes" (mint and lemon grass), a "spicy centre-note" (juniper berries and cinnamon) and a "balsamic base-note" (incense and myrrh).
Sandrine, is the challenge in creating those in the accuracy to the historical context or to the artistic interpretation (Fact vs. Art)?

Sandrine: The Kyphi is a historical reconstruction (reconstitution in French) exhibited at the Cairo museum. The Metopion is a historical unguent reconstruction exhibited at Sephora-Champs-Elysées. (The Egyptian cones are a historical interpretation exhibited at Sephora-Champs-Elysées). Egyptian cones can only be a loose interpretation because many Egyptologists say that Egyptian cones are only drawings; their existence is often called into question. As for the Song of Senses based on the Song of Songs, it is an exhibition full of historical olfactory interpretations of the Solomon’s text. With such a text, we are always in interpretations. The difference between olfactory reconstructions and interpretations has to be distinct. You are right: It is not the same work and the challenge is in both. Historical knowledge is required for both exercices. On the one hand, historical knowledge allows to be more scientific. On the other hand, aiming for an interpretation allows one to be more creative.

PerfumeShrine: Based on the above, what would differentiate your own finished project on a given historical subject from another perfumer's on the same subject, assuming you're both relying on the same sources, the same texts, the same artefacts for reference?

Sandrine: It would be the same as for two chefs. The handling, the treatment would make the difference. Moreover, some handlings are written nowhere and it is only the perfumer's "automatics" that would make the difference.

PerfumeShrine: In Manoumalia for Les Nez I was struck by how completely different the scope of the concept is compared to other commercial and niche offerings on the market: Here there is an ethnographical travelogue between an old culture and a westernized technique of fragrance producing. How did the idea come about and how were the two combined in the extraordinary result we smell?

Sandrine: When Wallisians go to ceremonies they wear necklaces and crowns full of flowers (fagraea, tiare, ylang-ylang….). They wear sandalwood powder in the hair. They wear their ancestral perfume the TuiTui everywhere. Their necklaces, crowns, hair, body are full of TuiTui. It is the marriage of all those perfumes I wanted to translate. It is the memory of all those perfumes together that helped me to author Manoumalia. The only fragrance that I forgot on purpose is the hea seed’s scent. It is quite too rancid for the Western world! Moreover, today and since the 50’s, Wallisians add Pompeïa from L. T. Piver (1907) in their ancestral Tuitui. Therefore, I had to make passing references to this floral bouquet in Manoumalia.

PerfumeShrine: That's an amazing piece of information: a L.T.Piver fragrance in an ancient mix! I didn't expect that! So, the heart of Manoumalia is sketched around Fragrea flower. To my nose in Manoumalia this appears as a powdery, rubbery tuberose almost (a passing resemblance to the equally rubbery feel of classic Fracas) with accents of creamy jasmine-like and tiare tones. How is fragrea different than other flowers we associate with the tropics such as gardenia, plumeria and ylang-ylang?

Sandrine: Fragrea is indeed like gardenia, white plumeria, ylang-ylang, tiare, jasmine, tuberose… Fagraea is a White Flower. They all have olfactory common denominators. As for the difference, Fagraea is spicy. In return, are you sure that the rubbery facet is only due to the tuberose facet and not because of the vetiver?

PerfumeShrine: Good point, which brings me to my next question. I felt that in the development of Manoumalia the brilliance of the composition was in interjecting a very earthy, rooty Javanese vetiver accord to contrast with the lush South Seas flowers heart: It elevates the scent above the usual tropical compositions smelling of too much coconut, too much lactonic suntan-lotion and gives it a very natural, very "raw" feel. Is this something that came about through the proximity with the Wallisians? Do they employ scents in such a way?

Sandrine: Yes. It came about through the proximity with Wallisians and it is also due to the fact that I live in New Caledonia, I presume. It is a very “raw” country. The vetiver is in Manoumalia because Wallisians use it in their ancestral Tuitui. I didn’t decide to use the vetiver by myself. It is in their culture, their habits.

PerfumeShrine: What impressed you most from the Wallisian culture regarding fragrance use?
Sandrine: Their olfactory gluttony!

PerfumeShrine: What did you learn that you will be carrying in your future perfumes?
Sandrine: To invest perfumes with more happiness. Perfume is magic. It is sacred, but it also represents a festive mood.

PerfumeShrine: That's a lovely thought! One which we should all embrace more. On another note, there has been an emerging trend towards "green" cosmetics in the last decade and fragrances are following with a growing niche of brands which abandon petrochemical-derived products and phthalates in favour of "cleaner" formulae. For instance, L'artisan Parfumeur has abandonded those ingredients. Olivia Giacobetti has been collaborating with a new line of not only all-naturals, but organic scents, for Honoré des Prés.
What is your own opinion on those developments: do you find them worthwhile/ restrictive/ misleading ?

Sandrine: Stopping using phthalates and some petrochemical-derived products is a real good thing for our health and creativity can follow. As for using only naturals and organic scents, why not! Creativity can exist, but lacks of technique cannnot.

PerfumeShrine: There have been restrictions imposed by IFRA and the European Union on certain ingredients' levels in fine fragrance, such as oakmoss, bergaptene, limonene, birch tar and possibly opoponax and frankincense as well in the very near future. This has many perfume wearers worrying that their favorites are getting altered beyond recognition (reformulation) and that the upcoming fragrances will be completely synthesized or "bare", with no soul.
If this practice escalates, do you think it is possible to create diversified and nuanced compositions that are on a par with great classics of yesterday ?

Sandrine: Some restrictions are already excessive; especially concerning some natural raw materials. This is also due to the Colipa and the Reach restrictions, you know. The situation will be harder for a perfumer who had known perfumery in a previous era with less restrictions than for a young perfumer who never used or smelt opoponax, for example. The challenge is of course harder to face.

PerfumeShrine: It was with great interest that we learn you have studied under Edmond Roudnitska. His course has been monumental for a simple reason: not one mis-step on the way (Even his commercially unsuccessful Dior Dior has striken me with the beauty of its composition). What is the most important lesson that you have retained from him ?

Sandrine: The most important lesson.....that we know nothing! So many things left to learn, to discover, to live ….

PerfumeShrine: So how can Roudnitska's vision be translated into today's world?

Sandrine: It would have to be another world.

PerfumeShrine: Sad thought, that one. Still, is there a fragrance or a perfumer you greatly admire today?

Sandrine: As regards perfumers, I greatly admire Isabelle Doyen, Olivia Giacobetti, Jean-Claude Ellena and Christine Nagel's oeuvre. As for specific fragrances, I admire today “For Her” from Narcisso Rodriguez and “Terre d’Hermès”.

PerfumeShrine: Very interesting! Sandrine, you’re a Caledonian by birth, residing in New Caledonia instead of some fashionable metropolis such as Paris, Milan or New York city. Do you believe this gives you another perspective concerning your art?

Sandrine: Yes, it does! I am connected with my roots. I feel more beaming or blooming and I am more serene. If something is wrong inside of you then you won’t create with harmony. You can not cheat with perfume authoring. States of mind come to light in perfume authoring. Bad moods are forbidden. Moreover, New Caledonia with its nature and ethnic groups is a mine of inspiration for me.

PerfumeShrine: And a suggestion, more than a question: Perhaps you might be interested in recreating the ancient Chypre recipes of the island of Cyprus and the islands on the Aegean next, as an historical project for the archaeological museum in Greece. What do you think ?

Sandrine: I would love it! I would really, really love it!! Do you think that it is doable, that it can be put into action?

PerfumeShrine: I will certainly try to tag my own end of the strings I can pull, I can tell you!!
Sandrine, thank you ever so much for talking to me and for illuminating your work for our readers.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: Manoumalia review, Interviews with Perfumers and industry Insiders, the Chypre Series

Personally Engraved Bottles of Parfum by Ormonde Jayne for Valentine's Day

In good time for Valentine’s Day, Ormonde Jayne will engrave your beloved's initials onto the gold and glass stopper of their iconic Pure Parfum bottle and have it delivered to your Valentine's door in a beautiful shagreen box. (Please note: The service takes five working days to complete).
One of the many suggestions is Osmanthus Absolute, a beautifully composed uplifting perfume with golden citrus notes…intense yet uncomplicated , with notes of pomello, pimento, vetiver and water lily. According to Snifapalooza Magazine: “Ormonde Jayne’s Osmanthus exudes pure and simple passion and awakens the senses. Pulsating with great honesty and beauty, Osmanthus doesn’t compete with you but adds to your natural panache”.

Price 50mls Pure Parfum Engraved Bottle (30% Pure Parfum) £130

Available from The Royal Arcade, Old Bond Street and the online boutique.

Perfumes and Fur part 2

Relating fragrances to the warm, cozy but also intimately erotic connotations of furs is a task almost too enjoyable to be entirely legal. Some of those fragrances had even originally been thought of in relation to fur wearing which puts them all the more so in the vintage zone of a modern consumer’s consciousness, accompanied by a pang of nostalgia for things one has not even lived through.
The aristocratic aura they exuded makes them the decadent assortiment that a modern woman can reappreciate with eyes anew, cut off from their luxuriant aspirations and focusing on the richness and muskiness of their juice. But the creation process hasn’t been easy. Drom fragrances perfumer Pierre-Constantin Gueros is the son of a Parisian furrier, struggling to come to terms with how to translate his memories into scent: “The smell of the factory and smell of the different leathers and fur—that’s really something I think I will remember all my life,” he says. “And when I say leather, I mean there are so many different leathers. Sometimes I’m frustrated because we don’t have the raw materials to translate this leathery aspect. It’s sensual, but not really animalic. It’s textural—like silk, like wool. It’s very difficult to translate that into perfumes. You have the smell in your head, but translating it is very complicated.” [1] Fur in itself is a material which holds fragrance extremely well (although it’s strongly discouraged by the best furriers in the field to protect the pelts), often for generations which manage to make a simple hand-me-down the object of adoration and an infinite memory capsule.

Some of the old creators had no special qualms and went along on instinct. Jeanne Lanvin, the classic milliner most famous for her enduring Arpège, was responsible for commitioning in 1924 a rare marvel that was alas discontinued in 1988; a perfume eminently suitable to and evocative of vintage fur wearing. My Sin (Mon Péché in French), a sensuous, unapologetic beauty was created by André Fraysse of Firmenich in collaboration with the mysterious Madame Zed, an obscure personage of Russian extraction that remains a mystery in the history of perfumery. Supposedly resulting after no less than 17 unsuccessful perfumes [2] from her laboratory in Nanterre, My Sin proved that a sinful name and a classy, yet daring smell, was all it was required in the roaring Twenties.Its synergy of heliotrope and aldehydes gives a powderiness that is simpatico to both the romantic floral heart and the animalic musky-woody base of musk, civet and sandalwood, conspiring in giving an aura of silent but powerful distinction.

However Parfums Weil is the most characteristic example of fur perfumes, being the perfumery offshoot of Parisien furrier, Les Fourrures Weil (Weil Furs), established in 1927. Furriers since 1912, well before they became purveyors of fine fragrance, the venture of the founder Alfred and his brothers Marcel and Jacques into perfume resulted from the direct request of a client for a fragrance suitable to fur wearing. Weil obligingly capitulated to the request and produced scents that would guarantee not to harm the fur itself, yet mask the unwelcome musty tonality that fur coats can accumulate after a while. The names are quite literal: Zibeline (sable), Ermine (hermine), Chinchila, Une Fleur pour Fourrure (A Flower for Furs)...
The very first of those was an expansive floral chypre, conveived as an evocation of the oak forests and steppes of imperial Russia and appropriately named after the animal there captured: Zibeline, the highest quality in furs for its legendary silky touch, its scarcity value and light weight. Zibeline belonged to the original fragrant trio line-up that launched the business of Perfumes Weil. Introduced in 1928, Zibeline was comissioned by Marcel Weil and composed by Claude Fraysee assisted by his perfumer daughter, Jacqueline. (The Fraysee clan is famous for working in perfumery: His two sons, André and Hybert were to work with Lanvin and Synarome respectively and the son of André, Richard, is today head perfumer at parfums Caron)
Zibeline was released in Eau de Toilette in 1930 but the formulations came and went with subtle differences and their history is quite interesting. First there was Zibeline, then the company issued Secret de Venus bath and body oils product line which incorporated Zibeline among their other fragrances (a line most popular in the US) while later they reverted to plain Zibeline again. The Eau versions of Secret de Venus Zibeline are lighter, with less density while the bath/body oil form approximates the spicy-musky tonalities of the Zibeline extrait de parfum, with the latter being more animalistic. The older versions of parfum were indeed buttery and very skanky, deliciously civet-laden with the fruit and floral elements more of an afterthought and around the 1950s the batches gained an incredible spicy touch to exalt that quality. Later versions of Zibeline from the 70s and 80s attained a more powdery orange blossom honeyness backed up by fruit coupled with the kiss of tonka and sandalwood, only hinting at the muskiness that was so prevalent in previous incarnations, thus resulting in a nostalgic memento of a bygone epoch that seems tamer than it had actually been.
Marcel Weil's death in 1933 did not stop expanding their perfumery endeavours; they added several other perfumes: Bambou, Cassandra and Noir.The Weil family was forced out of France by Hitler, so they re-established themselves in New York from where one of the first perfumes released was Zibeline with the quite different in character chypré Antilope being issued in 1945, upon return to Paris in 1946 when they also introduced Padisha. Sadly the multiple changing of hands resulted in the languishing of the firm by the 1980s and although the brand Weil has been in ownership of Interparfums (Aroli Aromes Ligeriens) since 2002 Parfums Weil is largely unsung and long due for a resurgence.

The smooth dark fur of a living animal –for a change- was the inspiration behind one of the most elusive vintage fragrances: Mouche by Rochas from 1947, created by none other than Edmond Roudnitska who worked for several of the Rochas thoroughbreds (Femme, Moustache, Rose, Mouselline). Marcel Rochas had a cat, named Mouche, which means “fly” in French and the idea to name a fragrance after his cat was both fun and original.
The scent came in the same amphora bottle shape as Rochas’ first creation, Femme, designed by Marc Lalique, but with the outer box with the lacy interlay shaded in turquoise rather than grey. Unfortunately Mouche was all too briefly on the scene: It got discontinued in 1962 and remains a rare collectible.

Lots of other perfumes have been linked to the opulence of fur from lynx, ermine and chinchilla to otter, shearling and karakul. Some of the most characteristic is the demi-chypre/demi-floral 1000 by Patou whose refinement, disconcerting and mysterious complexity render it a difficult but intriguing proposition; or the old version of Piguet’s Baghari, which was quite different and more daring than the more demure aldehydic re-issued. Or think of the words of actress and model Camilla Rutherford reminiscing of her mother: “My mother used to wear fur. Her scent was Cabotine by Gres, and sometimes First by Van Cleef & Arpels, and it would cling to her coat. I remember when she was going out, my sister and I would be pawing her because of the softness of her mink and the scents that came from it.” [3]
But even the most unlikely fragrances can have the most surrealistic connotations implicating fur and its mystique. In one such case of free association, Diorella has been linked to “a new fur coat that has been rubbed with a very creamy mint toothpaste. Not gel. Paste.” [4] Nor are modern fragrances excluded from this wonderful game of synesthesia between touch and smell, between silkiness and swooning. Dzing! composed by Olivia Giacobetti for L’artisan Parfumeur, encapsulates the circus in a bottle with its odours of the great cats, the sawdust in the ring, the leather whip and the cardboard partitions; a wonder which would evoke soft fur even in the absence of it and the perfect accompaniment of a man or a woman on a crisp morning. Muscs Koublaï Khän by Serge Lutens has a silky radiance, warm with the intensity of living beings effortlessly appointed the quintessential parfum fourrure for modern explorers into the terrain of carnal pleasures. And Miller Harris composed L’air de Rien for Jane Birkin (and all of us eventually, as attested by our opinions) to evoke her brother’s hair and her father's pipe, resulting in an animalistic, fantastically ripe and alluring oakmoss and musks blend that would have Guerlain wishing they had come up with such an avant-garde yet also strangely retro composition.
Fur perfumes will continue to hold their fascination for every perfume lover who has been leafing through sepia-tinged old photos with a sigh of unuttered contemplation.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfume and Furs part 1

[1]Perfumer & Flavorist March 2007
[2]Between 1924-1925, the house of Lanvin House launched NIV NAL, IRISE, KARA - DJENOUN (commemorating an Egyptian journey ), LE SILLON, Apres Sport (all of those were discontinued in 1926), CHYPRE, COMME-CI COMME-CA, LAJEA, J'EN RAFFOLE, LA DOGARESSE, OU FLEURIT L’ORANGER (discontinued in 1940), GERANIUM D’ESPAGNE (discontinued in 1962), friction JEANNE LANVIN, CROSS-COUNTRY, and MON PECHE/MY SIN (discontinued in 1988). (source: Tout en Parfum)
[3]Interview in the Dailymail.co.uk
[4]The Face Aug.2005

Vincent Price and Coral Browne photo by Helmut Newton. My Sin and Mouche ads through Ebay. Mouche bottle via Musee de Grasse. Zibeline bottle pic via cyberattic.com

Perfume and Fur part 1

Upon relating perfume-wearing to winter it’s natural to think of fragrances as warm and enveloping as a fur coat of the softest mink or the whitest sable. Sultry, luxurious and rich in slowly-evolving notes, those fragrances are rivaling the opulence of furs and their superior warming properties.
There is a fascinating term for down-and-dirty in French: "parfum de fourrure" (par-fehm –de-fou-reeh-rr or click here to hear how "fourrure" is pronounced), which means “fur perfume”, to denote not a fragrance meant to be literally used on fur coats (as fur gets dried by alcohol and is sensitive to several materials anyway), but rather a perfume to be worn when donning a luxurious fur coat, usually in the evening amidst smart company. Natural fur has a catty odour, which can become rather musty when turned into a coat that’s stored in the closet, and this necessitated the use of scents that would help “mask” this problem. In fact Claude Fraysee, the creator of fragrances for parfums Weil, celebrated furriers to begin with, was said to have created “parfums furrure” specifically at the request of a client. But we will revert to that later.

The sociological implications of furs are not to be sidetracked when considering this particular olfactory vogue which flourished in the beginnings of the 20th century, well before PETA and animal-rights-movement. In regions where extreme temperatures necessitated fur-wearing for months on end, such as Canada and Russia, fur-producing countries, that aspect was minimal. In Russia specifically fur does not hold a great implication of luxury, as even the poor wear it –albeit in poorer quality incarnations-to escape the cold. This is perhaps the sanest use of fur devoid of any aspirational nuances. In other parts of the Northern hemisphere however furs emerged as an emblem of luxury, ever since antiquity. They became especially prized since the Romanov dynasty’s decline and the subsequent stories of princess Anastasia escaping in the West (finally put to rest after the DNA examination that proved she was part of the Bolsheviks’ shootings) which fueled the imagination of millions. Numerous are the literature texts in which a mysterious lady with a Russian accent, decked in furs and art-deco jewels, is referenced. The baroque style of the Russian court who was in close diplomatic contact with the French gave rise to a vogue for fur coats and stoles; particularly welcome covering the by now naked shoulders of women in 20s filmsy charleston-dresses or 30s evening gowns that left them all too cold for comfort.
But fur was also heavily eroticized starting with Leopold von Sacher Masoch’s “Venus in Furs”, in which fur performs the role of exalting his heroine’s, Wanda von Dunajew, almost supernatural façade and is then copiously referenced in the Berlin cabaret scene and classic film noirs.

And who can forget Charles Baudelaire when in Un Fantôme II Le Parfum (from "Les Fleurs du Mal") he rhapsodised another kind of fur, much more intimate and impolite, almost untranslateable ~the odor di femina, the musky smell of a woman's sex:

Reader, have you at times inhaled
With rapture and slow greediness
That grain of incense which pervades a church,
Or the inveterate musk of a sachet?
Profound, magical charm, with which the past,
Restored to life, makes us inebriate!
Thus the lover from an adored body
Plucks memory's exquisite flower.
From her tresses, heavy and elastic,
Living sachet, censer for the bedroom,
A wild and savage odor rose,
And from her clothes, of muslin or velvet,
All redolent of her youth's purity,
There emanated the odor of fur.

~translation fleursdumal.org

In the 1970s, silver fox was de rigeur in advertisements and VIP pics accompanying the Glamazons of the era. Fur coats ~stoles especially, as they are so much easier to wear and more dramatic to use~ became standard luxury evening-wear to the point that designer Ciara Bonni declared them in the early 90s a cliché ~the most expected garment to wear over an evening gown and therefore not chic.The animal rights movement in subsequent years has attached a stigma to fur-wearing, an act of vanity ~which it so often is. Although “ecological” man-made fur is proposed as an alternative, the truth is they do not feel in the least as soft and on top of that their fibres are made from materials that do not disintegrate fast enough, rendering them ~ironically enough~ quite unecological. Still, fur-wearing is laden with some well-deserved guilt nowadays for ethical reasons, even if it involves vintage pieces which are the only ones I would use myself. Nevertheless it has been making a quiet come-back in fashion for quite some time. But the above small history of fur proves it wasn’t so when perfumes were specifically built to compliment it!

The naturally catty odour of fur lent itself effortlessly to perfumes which are rich in animal ingredients such as castoreum (often used to render leather hide notes), musk and especially civet. Natural civet comes through the impolite secretions of a small animal’s perineal glands, produced spontaneously and amassed in a process not harmful to the animal, although surely quite irritating! The advent of animalic notes after years of demure Victorian floral waters was coinciding with the vogue of the roaring Twenties for everything forbidden, dangerous and dark. It wasn’t since before L’ Empire (the years of Napoleonic reign) that musk had been popular and after more than a century past, it was the perfect occasion for its return. The success of opulent, somnobulent Orientals such as Tabu and Shalimar paved the way for braver and “dirtier” escapes in fragrances. Fur perfumes had been born!

To be continued..... Perfume and Fur part 2

Pics: "Pola woman" and Charlotte Rampling photography by Helmut Newton. Carolina Herrera in furs by her mother, designer Carolina Herrera. Theda Bara the Vamp via seraphicpress.com

Silences by Jacomo: fragrance review

If one could liquidify a handful of Pre-Columbian emeralds of crystal-clear luster into a brewing potion of intense aloofness and exceptional grace, Silences by Jacomo would undoubtedly result. Or imagine catching the cool, bracing moments of air just after a torrent thunderstorm in a tangled green garden when the earth is still humid and electrified. In music scores those "rests" denoting periods of silence account for building tension, the tension felt before a flamboyant burst of the whole orchestra. The overall musical effect of Silences is comparatively akin to getting a pre-emptive glimpse of the slow, indeed silent passage of winter into a blossoming, riotous spring.

Launched in 1978 Silences was created for "the refined woman who knows how to combine fragrance and elegance, and for the mature woman wishing to add a great perfume to her social evenings and superbe attire". The noble lineage can be traced to the archetypal intense green, Balmain's Vent Vert by Germain Cellier, but also the intense dark green that makes the formula of Bandit eau de parfum so uncharacteristically verdant. The galbanum central accord that makes the vintage Vent Vert so achingly fresh is the razor-sharp cut that appears as a vibrant influence in such great green classics as Chanel No.19 , Givenchy III and Alliage by Lauder, with a passing wink to Sisley's Eau de Campagne and Lauder's more chypré progeny, Private Collection, as well. The early and mid-70s was historically a time of intense turmoil in the women's movement which brought about emancipated chypres and intense greens that were eschewing typical polite, ladylike aldehydic florals or the long forgotten seductive wiles of sultry orientals; those latter ones would come back with a vengeance however just about when Silences was introduced and would manage to knock it off its pedestral thanks to groundbreaking commercial success of Opium. Thus Silences was left in oblivion and remains a well-kept secret that deserves to be discovered anew.

Jacomo's Silences begins its intensly green, bitter adventure via the magic of galbanum and hyacinth, and progresses to fresh-cut floral mid-notes with touches of metallic: green jasmine (hedione), rose and lily of the valley (muguet), which hint at the delights of the coming of spring amidst the coolness of wintertime. Silences dries down to a mild, powdery base full of the synergy of warm woods and mossy lichens. Whereas Chanel No.19 counterpoints the richly iris-laden heart with a leathery accent and prominent vetiver in the base, Silences is warmed through the fanning of precious woods and is even drier. The powdery, arid sensation that is left on drydown lasts on the skin for hours and can become quite seductive by itself; if not to others around you, certainly to yourself!

A perfume friend, Maria of Bittergrace Notes, parallels it to "A romantic tryst in an untended garden, as imagined by a nun" in her notorious one-sentence reviews. "Still dewdrop in blend, she cascades without being too shrill" is how fragrance expert Marian Bendeth describes it. Luca Turin had described it in his defunct French 1994 guide as an unpretencious tapering silhouette of cut flower stems, even urging men to try a smidge of it in the morning if they're daring enough.
It is rather unfortunate that those bitter green fragrances with a mossy face powder effect have gone out of fashion for quite some time, thus making a sophisticated marvel like Silences seem out of synch with our current culture worshiping at the altar of hypersweet, nevertheless for those who want to give it a go I find that it has its own share of perverse sexiness.

Although the original comes in a black smooth, crescent bottle in a dark box with iridescence, there has been a new addition, the newer Silences Purple which is more of a sunny white floral in an identical bottle in purple with a matching box in purple iridiscence. The packaging for the classic however appears in two versions as well: the older, un-reformulated one is greyer with the name appearing once, while the newer packaging has the name appearing repeteadly over the box.

Notes for Jacomo Silences:
One set of notes states:
Top: Galbanum, Green Note, Bergamot, Lemon, Orange Blossom .
Middle: Orris, Rose, Muguet, Hyacinth, Jasmin.
Bottom: Moss, Cedarwood, Sandal, Musk .

The current set of notes on the Jacomo site states:
Top: Narcissus absolute, Iris from Florence, Rose, Blackcurrant absolute, Galbanum
Heart: Calendula, Bulgarian rose, Lily of the valley
Bottom: Oak moss, Ambrette, Sandalwood, Vetyver

Jacomo Silences comes in Eau de Parfum concentration and is available on Jacomo's official site and some online stores for very modest prices.

Photo of Jacomo Silences bottle © by Helg/Perfumeshrine.
"The Spanish Inquisition" emerald necklace pictured, is now in the Smithsonian in Washington, DC, and was once owned by Harry Winston. (Photo: Dane Penland/Smithsonian via palagems.com)