Change of licence for parfums Jean Couturier

The Jean Couturier perfumes have just changed hands: Formely owned by Cosmoprod since 2005, the brand has been bought by VAG, ie. Victor et Anthony Gambirasio, a company founded 5 years ago. VAG bought the licence for distributing the fragrances by Jean Couturier in France and around the world.
The Jean Couturier portfolio includes 5 feminine fragrances ~the well-loved Coriandre (1973), Kéora (1983), Eau de Coriandre (1996), Marjolaine (1997) and Lilas Mauve (2002)~as well as one masculine cologne (Jean Couturier Homme from 2004, as 12 is long discontinued).
VAG holds the licence for French distribution of Léonard, 4711, Yardley and Dana up till now. The company plans on extending its acquisitions, targeting other brands in the near future.

Usually a buy off of licence means a revamping of the brand with a possible twist on the juice itself, either for the better or the worse and also axing of some of the fragrances. Indeed although 5 feminine fragrances have been issued by Jean Couturier, the announcement of the VAG acquisition mentions only 3 of them, with no further details as to which (Coriandre should be definitely kept as it is the flagship scent in the line, although no one knows in what form). Therefore, should you find yourself loving one of the Couturier fragrances madly right now, you might be advised to stock up!

News via cosmetiquemag/février'09

Serge Lutens Nuit de Cellophane: fragrance review (and a draw!)

The breakdown of a new fragrance by Serge Lutens often resembles an exercise in Sibyllic prose deciphering. As announced a while ago, the newest Lutens oeuvre is built on a floral pattern and bears the surrealistic name Nuit de Cellophane (ie.Cellophane Night). Much fanfare had been consequently made on how the elusive, cryptic meaning of the text by Lutens would effectively line with the actual scent of the new creation. The nocturnal character of the little tale can only be brought to life through the realisation that those are night-blooming flowers, exuding their best under the veil of night. But the mysterious, the dangerous or the arcane have been eschewed for a luminous composition that is poised between the commercially celebrated and the expectedly orthodox. Canonical in the Lutens portfolio however Nuit de Cellophane is definitely not, in the sense that the sequestered feature of most of his visions is the inclusion of a bit of deliberate ugliness; jarring and mismatched yet generating subliminal beauty. To quote a commentator on Pascal Bruckner's comparable opus "the ability to induce a feeling of attraction, lust and temptation for things which would otherwise seem repulsive, outrageous or disgusting". Serge Lutens and his combatant "nose" Christ Sheldrake have successfully managed to make the bizarre (Serge Noire), the uncanny (Tubéreuse Criminelle, Mandarine Mandarin), the somputous (Vétiver Oriental, Muscs Koublaï Khan ) and the peculiar (Douce Amere, El Attarine, Cèdre) seem alluringly otherwordly like a savant figure in a world of duds and to entice us into not only being intellectually awed but actively clutched into their olfactory tentacles with no hope for escape. What is the truth for the rupture with this tradition of 45 scents so far, fortunately refreshed just last year by the introduction of not one, but two polarising scents under the spell of which I fell instantly?

It might have to do with the hermetically shrouded kind of collaboration that entails Chris Sheldrake's input in the range's compositions, as he has been weaned back at Chanel although allowed to continue to work for Lutens. It might also have to do with the opressively pessimistic climate shaping the market right now which bodes dark clouds that need a much sought after silver lining to give momentary ease of mind to the average consumer: Not impossible, but not very probable either as the scent has been the object of adjustments during the previous two years as per Lutens' own admission. It might even have to do with a retrogade desire of niche firms en masse to sneak up on the seasoned pefumephile who has been expecting a heavy artillery orientalised baba ghanoush spiced within an inch of its life and is instead served a mandarin and orange blossom cordial that quenches the common thirst a treat.
"The name evokes Paris before the war", intimated Serge Lutens. "It's almost an insult, a shock, a name that communicates the idea of pleasure but also of chic", he continued. With Nuit de Cellophane, Serge wanted to "enter the universe of nuances". This leaves me wondering whether he deems the previous fragrances in the canon as lacking of nuance, but I am leaving peripheral matters out in my eagerness to dwelve into the composition itself.

In Nuit de Cellophane Serge Lutens unfolds a fruity floral sympony of what seems like the tartness of mandarin, the lushness of champaca and some joyful jasmine, hiding its natural indolic glory in mock-demureness, extracted from the flower in a gust of "clean" volatility. A white rose note of great balance with shades of fruitiness is emerging amidst the other blossoms ~aerated, transparent, seen through the clear crisp "window" of cellophane. The scent of osmanthus is not realistically rendered in the apricoty-suede-like tonality it renders to other compositions like Osmanthus Intedite. (I am however holding out on the possibility of its blooming more convincingly in the hot weather ahead). The overall sensuality is subtle, hushed and too discreet in the form of creamy sandalwood and possibly a smidge of civet combined with "clean" synthesized musks. It took me a while to shake off the mind-proding disturbance of alarming familiarity with a commercial fruity floral I have known and it only dawned on me upon Octavian's likening it to Dior's J'adore L'Absolu (a beautifully crafted composition that is superior to the competent and pretty J'adore). My mind had veered into less sophisticated directions initially, despite Grain de Musc's enthusiastic rapture. I admit that like Beige by Chanel before it, it is pretty, will probably be one of the most wearable and popular in the Lutens line and not at all an bijou de plastique like feared going by the name alone. But is it really beautiful? The much needed soupçon of weird Lutensian ugliness is sorely missing I'm afraid...

Nuit de Cellophane by Serge Lutens is available in Eau de Parfum concentration in the standard oblong bottle of 50ml/1.7oz as part of the export line launching in March 2009 at the US (at the usual suspects carrying the Lutens portfolio). It's already available in Paris for 79 euros.

Two more fragrances by Serge Lutens will be announaced in the course of 2009.

One lucky reader will receive a sample of Nuit de Cellophane!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Serge Lutens Fragrance Reviews & News

Brigitte Bardot pic from Henri-Georges Clouzot's film "La Vérité" via mooninthegutter blog
Bottle pic via velduftende.com

Guerlain Loin de Tout: fragrance review & history of an unknown vintage

Impropable finds come like heavy snow in August at a coastal town in Sicily or an apparition of the Virgin to St. Bernadette Soubirous performed by the Madonna of Lourdes, France ~once in a blue-veering-to-cerulean moon; and that only if you have been extremely pleasing to the Gods! Nevertheless I must have accomplished some minor divine appeasement because what I thought was in the realm of the above came in the guise of an infinitely rare collectible procured via a generous and knowledgable collector: One of the most unknown Guerlains no less, to tally up my archives of the venerable brand.

Loin de Tout ("away from it all") was issued by Guerlain in 1933 at a time when the lure of exotic travelling and the feats of aviation had cemented the belief that anything was possible. Vol de Nuit and Sous le Vent are probably the best known examples of fragrances in the Guerlain stable that were inspired by such a concept and so is the after-the-war escapism of Gaugin-esque Atuana. Like the above mentioned fragrances, Loin de Tout evokes by name the pleasures that await one from removing their psyche from the mundane of everyday life and its vagaries and abandoning one's self to the nobility of the natural world.

The composition of Loin de Tout is reminiscent of many elements in the familiar vernacular of Guerlain, especially other classics by Jacques Guerlain, scattered like coloured beads in haphazard directions creating a kaleidoscope of shape-sifting images: the animalistic base of such classics as Jicky and Voilette de Madame; the bouquet des herbes de Province that hides in some of the aromatic compositions of the earliest creations; the floral touches that exalt the romanticism of the Guerlain love-stories. In Loin de Tout everything is suave but with a rapid progression from the bright to the pungent and on to the lathery, which accounts for a trippy experience like a voyaristic glimpse through a keyhole to an affluent lady's or gentleman's inner sanctum. There is the happy beginning of orange blossom, clearly discernible singing like a nightingale for several minutes, all the while the lower density base notes peeking from under the surface; troubling, animalic and ambery. The progression veers into pungent notes resembling thyme and bay leaves ~a hint of L'Heure Bleue's herbal facet~ sustained into a warm summer’s day driving along the almost scorched shrubs of a Mediterranean country with all windows down and inhaling the warm, arid air with nostrils aflare. But not everything has been told as yet. After several minutes, the most unexpected note of a soapy floralcy emerges. Hypothesizing that it is due either to a hydroxycitronellal note (mimicking astrigent lily of the valley and very popular so as to “open up” the bouquet of old classics) or some aldehydic lathery tone of "clean" C11 (undecanal), also quite popular by the 1930s, it is an intriguing juxtaposition to the otherwise ambery proceedings with floral touches. It is an utter pity that the unpopularity of the finished jus put a stop to production quite soon, bringing an intriguing composition to an abrupt end, leaving behind only relics of a grandiose past, grist for collectors' mills.

The bottle encasing Loin de Tout was the historic "flacon brun fumé" better known as the one holding the previous fragrances Candide Effluve and À travers Champs Elysées, which were circulating during the 1930s. The beautiful and mysterious design of the flacon however proved unsuccessful commercially as well: being not easy to grab firmly, it was prone to accidental falls and was soon abandonded in favour of more fluted designs. Loin de Tout is almost impossible to find, indeed "away from it all", and if you happen upon it on Ebay or another collector's vaults you should thank your lucky stars, like I did.

Pic of Rudolf Koppitz nude "Desperation" via SexualityintheArts.

Frequent Questions: How to Seduce with your Perfume According to your Type

There are probably as many ways of seduction as there are women; and there are possibly as many ways of being seduced as there are men. But the human mind being formulaically responsive and often accepting "rules" when in fact there aren't any, one of the perennial questions buzzing around is how to attract and entice through the use of the oldest of accroutements: perfume! Tania Sanchez no doubt has a point that the surest way to gain a man's olfactory attention is bacon, but should you ever find that men are more sophisticated beings than dogs, there are subtler ways to accomplish your goals and pique someone's interest in exploring further and hopefully finding all the lovely things you have to offer. Because, honestly, perfume is wonderful, subliminal, even magical at times, and I should be wise to its charms obviously, but the most appealing scent is the one attached to a wonderful human being. But for our purposes, here is some guidance into choosing an attractive fragrance according to your style or the role you want to playfully incarnate, just in time for St.Valentine's Day. In no way conclusive, it only aims to offer a little fun.

For the friendly girl-next-door type:

Although we take it for granted, there's something to be said about the best things hiding under our noses. And nowhere is this more evident than in choosing a partner for a little casual relationship that can blossom to so much more. Men have been known to have a sweet spot for girls they can be friends with and the male mind seems to be wired so that they enjoy having a little erotic tension with them. The kind of woman for this is often funny, self-depreciating, smarter than you know and she can cuddle up in the couch watching a good round of basketball and those are qualities not to be ridiculed! The fragrances that exude that good-sport vibe are contemporary, well-crafted and with a light-hearted character that does not diminish their loveliness. In that arena the soapy clean ambience of the original Pleasures by Lauder with its spicy pepperiness later on has the touch of familiar, yet cozy. Men appreciate light, clean scents with a subtle hint of woody musk and in such a vein Cruel Gardénia by Guerlain accomplishes the coup with one swept feat if you disregard the completely misleading name. Another one in that abstract style with an indeterminate haze which has an almost universal appeal is Prada's Infusion d'Iris. A little almost edible quality can also be put to good use in the game of effortless seduction, especially when not too foody. The almondy trippy touch of Hypnotic Poison by Dior is popular for a reason and although the advertisements want to present it as a man-eater it is supremely friendly in its eau de toilette incarnation in which it asks to be taken to the back of a car and be nibbled on for hours on end. If you want to combine a little masculine touch along with the nutty edible edge, you can look no further than Vetiver Tonka available at Hermès boutiques. A spicy formula that acts as a kick for further communication could be Sienna Musk by Sonoma Scent Studio. And the familiar touch of usual masculine-fix lavender laced with an unexpected caramelic interlay that will have his taste buds wondering can be found in the very wearable and sexy Kiki by Vero Profumo.

For the mysterious vamp type:

If this type is mostly retained for the silver screen, there is nothing wrong with a little make-believe and a dusting of mysterious fairy-dust on everyday life. Every woman deserves to be able to get out of a pair of gloves Gilda-style once in her life or to dance the flamenco the way Ava Garner did and if this is your fantasy, fragrance offers a special touch to get in the mood ~you yourself, above all, which is the ultimate secret of seduction. For calculating schemes of grandes horizontales you will need a rich, slightly retro fragrance which won't remind him of his grandmother; not because she is old, mind you, but because the intentions behind those numbers are well beyond her capabilities right now I'd guess. Unless she is a vamp herself! (In which case, lucky you, to have a real life parable to watch and learn from!). There is something to be said about the insidious allure of Jean Desprez's Bal a Versailles and the regal air of Narcisse Noir by Caron. A mysterious film noir heroine might wear a couple of strategically placed drops of vintage Cabochard, a leathery chypre with headstrong tendencies. Or Paloma Picasso Mon Parfum , fit for fiery and less sang froid seductresses, who could be swept off their feet themselves by their passions, yet wreck havoc wherever they go. The warm, inviting Tolu by Ormonde Jayne is less outwardly bombastic, but none the less impressive for its animalic tonality which hints at an unbridled sexuality that will surely end up hurting someone.

For the girl-can't-help-it type:

Some women are bursting at the seams and it seems like they exude a naturally endowed charm that encompasses the childlike playfulness with the sensuous appreciation of life that attracts not only men but practically everyone: women, children and animals follow as well. The type is rarer than it seems at first, of course. Prime examples included Marilyn Monroe and it's a delicate balance between appearing exuberant and risking ridicule, so proceed carefully. Lush, carnal fragrances with potent white flowers are by nature generous and in that realm the wonderfully modern, natural smelling tuberose of Carnal Flower by F.Malle is heavy artillery for serious affairs of the heart. The generosity of edible violets flambées on an amber bed hiding inside Guerlain's Attrape Coeur is unsurpassable. If your scheming is envisioned in a tropical surrounding amidst the lush foliage of jasmine vines, then the Venus-flytrap of jasmine fragrances is your best bet: Jasmin Full by Montale is full to the brim! If you're more taken with the jaminess of rich roses, then Liaisons Dangereuses from the By Kilian brand is your surest bet.
Although more restrained and with no discernable big flowers, Rykiel Woman, not for men! sets out to consign its goals from the get-go. A composition that is playful, as warm as a mohair sweater, smart as a whip and giving like a tender mother all at the same time can't but win you over easily. Only to be sought for in the excellent Eau de Parfum concentration; the completely different in smell Eau de Toilette version is nothing to write home about.

For the professional woman eager to let her hair down type:

If it's not bad enough that fragrance is kept to a minimum at the workplace for reasons of courtesy to others, there is also a certain image attached to professional women ~especially very successful ones or ones who hold a position of power. They are deemed detached, a little "cold" and aloof possibly, a little unapproachable. But ever so often, this is just a façade when inside there is a sensuous human being who wants to loosen up and be seen in another way, even if she doesn't have the time to resort to a whole transformation at home before hitting the posh bar for drinks with an eligible bachelor. Her fragrance should have a veneer of polish, while underneath there is a naughtiness that hints at antique rose lace underwear under the strict pantsuit. The pristine good taste of Calèche by Hermès is ladylike on the outset only to hint at an articulate sensuality underneath. The original Armani pour Femme is a chypre so densely rich and opulent it makes you swoon. Iris Poudre by F.Malle has the right touch of airy transparency to make it unobtrusive and the correct dosage of discreet earthiness in the form of luxuriant iris at the background suggesting more intimate ideas. The equivalent of the softest pashmina over bare shoulders, it is a fragrance to transport you above all and make you feel utterly feminine and vulnerable. The bittersweet, discreet vibrato of Douce Amère by Serge Lutens is the perfect accompaniment to an appearence that hides more than it reveals.

For the incurable romantic type:

Perfume is a traditional romantic gift and as such it is laden with lots of associations, memories and reminiscences about relationships past and present and sometimes even subtle innuendo (Remember how Scarlett O'Hara was advised not to accept scented gifts from her many beaux?). There are women who always smile watching Jimmy Steward in "A Wonderful Life" and shed a tear at the final scenes of "An Affair to Remember". Women who like their night gowns trimmed with a little broderie anglaise, their literature peppered with Jane Austen and their fragrances with a touch of floral. Although they're certainly not spoilt for choice, as there are plenty of romantic fragrances around, there are some which are achingly beautiful to match. Chamade by Guerlain is one such composition ~from the name evoking the French phrase "battre la chamade" (inspired by the homonymous drumroll signifying retreat during the Napoleonic Wars) to the lush hyacinth heart with a touch of blackcurrant buds, it is a romantic to end all romantics. The exquisite loveliness of a simple, yet ethereal lily and vanilla mélange is found in Un Lys by Serge Lutens: the last dying breath of an angel in paradise... The embullient rose that is Paris by Yves Saint Laurent has a nostalgic tinge of violets and is so tremendously feminine that it sets the mood by itself.

For the brainy or bohemian type:

If you belong to this subcategory, you're probably reading this article with a healthy dose of scepticism and nodding your head "yeah, yeah, wonder how I would ever fit!". The simple answer is you would not. And most people detest being typecast, so you would never admit to even if you would. But that's perfectly all right, because this is the type of woman that would have to first seduce herself through her choice of perfume and then everyone else. And this is part of the wonderful path of self-discovery, of identity mapping, of evolving of one's sensibilities, tastes and preferences that we call "life". There is no specific fingerprint and the following suggestions are as diverse as the tastes of women belonging in this category. The decadently luxurious iris cloud atop a nappa couch that is Cuir de Russie by Chanel, especially in parfum form, is a natural fit for when you want to exude your most intelligent without foregoing your most beautiful side. The carnal nature of tropical white florals paired with the raw savagery of vetiver as incarnated in Manoumalia by Les Nez is beautifully intriguing. The narcissus and leather mixed with dirt of L'artisan's Fleur de Narcisse as well as the more intimate, naughtier come-hither of L'air de Rien by Miller Harris can be weapons of quirky seduction. And of course if the edgily different and exotic story behind Aziyade by Parfum d'Empire casts a spell on your soul, then the fragrance with its sexy spice interlay atop immortelle might have you feeling like the sexiest harem girl who's reciting Rilke while dancing this side of the Golden Horn.

Pics from top: When Harry met Sally, Body Heat, The Seven Year Itch, Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, Pride and Prejudice, Mullholland Drive courtesy of community.livejournal/ohnotheydidn't, news.bbc.co.uk, en-easyart.com

Habit Rouge Armoiries (for men): re-issue from Guerlain

Who is issuing the 1005th flanker for 2009? None other than Guerlain, of course! Habit Rouge Armoiries was first introduced in 2006, as a limited edition for men and is re-issued in a flacon with an engraving on the glass in 18ct gold bearing the old logo of Guerlain. The name Armoiries means "coat of arms" and denotes the aristocratic pedigree which has always been evoked by Habit Rouge (The Red Jacket is the traditional garment to don while fox-hunting, a British sport of the aristocracy and royalty for centuries).The masculine composition belongs in the woody spicy family of fragrances and includes notes of lime, orange, bergamot, neroli, cinnamon, cedar, leather, vanilla, oud (agarwood/aloeswood), patchouli and amber. Collectors should probably take note: Habit Rouge Armoiries was created in limited supply ~only 454 numbered flacons, each containing 240ml.
Exclusively available at Guerlain boutiques.

Pic via punmiris.com