L'air du Printemps by Nina Ricci: new edition of L'air du Temps

Nina Ricci is launching a spring spin on their iconic L'air du Temps fragrance, the one which sells one bottle every 5 minutes somewhere in the world: The new fragrance is called L'air du Printemps (Spring Air)
and has been slightly adapted by Olivier Cresp who retained the freshness of the original juice but injected some more powdery and sensual notes with a crystalline, modern facet. In the heart jasmine is married to rose and frangipani, while a pear note on musks provides more powderiness. The final accord of cedar and sandalwood affirm its femininity. The interlocking doves of the original bottle are kept, while the body of the flacon is given a rosy hue matching the romanticism that the fragrance always evoked.L'air du Printemps by Nina Ricci is going to be a Limited Edition. I admit that although I am usually not drawn to concepts of festive editions, this looks to me like a most romantic gift to be received. Available from March, 69,50€ for 100ml

Pic via Vogue

Christian Lacroix Absynthe: new fragrance and advertising campaign

The advertisements for the new fragrance by Christian Lacroix Absynthe (tagged "undefined") are decked in the green fairie shade of hallucinogenic properties ~that of absinthe, the verbotten drink of the damned poets of the 19th century: a bright, acid yellow-green hue which makes a comeback every few years in the fashion vogues.
The advertisments are well done with the green chiffon dress being meshed into the liquid and acting as a visual extention of it, fronted by Lacroix runway model Vlada Roslyakova . The bottle follows up on Lacroix's Rouge previous effort in red (and the Noir for men) and is encasing 50ml of Eau de Parfum concentration. The fragrance is reportedly a mysterious green-oriental, inspired by "the green faerie of absinth", with notes of absinth, anise, saffron, floral touches of freesia and narcissus, on a bed of smoked woods, ebony, musk, myrrh and a smidgen of amber.
The licence is held by Avon, a cosmetics giant responsible for the distribution of parfums Lacroix among many others in the mass-market. The slogan says it all on the smartness of the collaboration: "Now everyone can experience haute couture". The clip for the new campaign is already available on Youtube .You can watch the previous scents presented here and an interview with Lacroix in English here with subtitles in Portugeuse.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Absinthe, Anise, Angelica & Wormwood series.

Pics through Maxitendance.com

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.