Astor Place by Bond no.9: new fragrance

Bond no.9, the brand that is synonymous with New York toponymia translated into fragrances is launching a new fragrance this April, called Astor Place, inspired by New York’s most vibrant arts-and-style intersection. The history of the place is quite interesting:

Back in the day, when Downtown was Uptown, nowhere in New York was grander than Astor Place—the enclave stretching between Broadway and Third Avenue, and floating between 14th and Houston Streets. Here, where much of the land was owned by the early 19th century fur-trading philanthropist John Jacob Astor, were situated the city’s greatest theaters, a row of colonnaded Greek Revival townhouses to rival Regent Park’s in London, the hallowed neo-Romanesque Great Hall of Cooper Union, the Renaissance-Revival Astor Library (now the Public Theater), and the neo-Renaissance shopping emporium John Wanamaker. Even the intersecting traffic thoroughfares added to the swirl of energy. Every street that enters the Astor Place energy field disappears and morphs into another street when it exits. (Eighth Street becomes St. Marks Place …Lafayette Street becomes Fourth Avenue … the Bowery becomes Third Avenue.) Astor Place kept a low profile through much of the 20th century. But then in 1967, Tony Rosenthal’s multi-ton gravity-defying geometric black metal sculpture, informally known as “the Cube,” was installed on its vertical axis right in the center of the plaza where Lafayette meets the Bowery. A bit to the south, that spacious promenade, Lafayette Street, is home not only to the acclaimed Public Theatre, where its see-and-be-seen Joe’s Pub now beckons to a stylish late-night crowd, but also to the Astor Place Theater. Ensconced in Colonnade Row, it was there that Sam Shepard’s plays were once performed, while Blue Man Group has held the subterranean stage since 1991. Berthed in the ground-level spaces, meanwhile, are a series of ultra-elegant mid-century home furnishings shops.

This fascinating glimpse of a historical place is meant to be embottled in the new fragrance and it remains to be seen whether it succeeded.
According to Bond, "the Astor Place flacon echoes the angles and cubes of the Rosenthal sculpture, the famous marker of the neighborhood – and renders them in the richest array of colors ever seen. All this is placed again a golden background, paying homage to the Astor fortune and philanthropy". The scent aims at merging downtown with uptown. A seductive fresh floral – flanking freesia with poppy and violet leaf and flanked by the smooth, deeper notes of teakwood and musk. The description of the official pyramid is playfully over the top as per usual, so I will spare you the novelette and will get down to hard, specific notes for Bond no.9 Astor Place: violet leaf, mandarin zest, red poppy buds, orris, teakwood, musk, amber.
For Mother’s Day Bond no.9 is offering Astor Place in a limited-edition Swarovski bottle – delicately decorated with topaz crystals.

Available at Bond No. 9’s four New York City boutiques, www.bondno9.com, 877.273.3369, and at Saks Fifth Avenue nationwide at $145 for 50ml and $220 for 100ml of Eau de Parfum. Astor Place Swarovski Limited-Edition for Mother’s Day will be $300 for 100ml.

The official Lancome Blog is out!

Obviously having an official blog for cosmetics and perfumes houses is not an affair to be trifled with, if the efforts by Sylvaine Delacourte at Guelain have been anything to go by. The house of Lancome has just released its very own blog named The Lancome Blog, starting being officially functioning on March 10th 2009. Besides news about the brand's products, the Lancome Blog will also give away various gifts and samples and cement a bond with the brand's customers this way. Run, written and edited by Kerry Diamond, vice-president of Public relations, together with PR team members who will often write columns and news, it seems like blogging is not for hobby-ists any more! As expected, I might add...

Interrupted by Death: The Lost Chanel

The road to hell is paved with the best intentions, a saying goes. Sometimes, it's not one's actions that prevent those intentions to materialize into good deeds however, but something more sinister, more unexpected intervenes; like the grim hand of Death, wiping out in one sweep everything, leaving behind only unfulfilled dreams, plans and unfinished projects. One such project was a commercial for Chanel for a new feminine perfume that was to be completed and aired by 2008 and as we have been talking about the new flanker of Cristalle yesterday and the two upcoming films about Coco Chanel's life the other day, it seems appropriate that we should tackle it now while the flow is running.
The fragance was meant to revolutionize the concepts of fragance families and the commercial was set to be directed by British-born director of Italian extraction Anthony Minghella (most famous for his work on The Talented Mr.Ripley, The English Patient and Cold Mountain). He died a year ago, at the premature age of 54, due to complications from cancer operation before being able to realize the project. The late artistic director Jacques Helleu was naturally involved, but preceding Minghella to his deathbed by a few months he was also absent during the final critical stages. Therefore this little rememberance on Perfumeshrine today is both to Minghella's honour ~exactly one year later to the day today~ and to show how an iconic brand visualises its inheritance as a constant memento of a sense of history; the rich history of Chanel.

I have been fortunate to be able to see the storyboards for the commercial and in its own way it tells its own story, shown here by the hand of illustrator Andy Sparrow. The script was to be written by author Michael Ondaatje (his is the author of the worthwhile novel, later filmed, The English Patient so the connection with Minghella was there), although the few tidbits that remain are not indicative of his undoubtedly smart would-be contibutions. The male lead would be Patrick Wilson and the female lead was to be negotiated between several options, including supemodels snatched up by other firms in the meantime or celebrity offspring. Nothing of all this materialized, so we can picture whomever we please in the cute, round face of the heroine with the slanted eyes under the bobbed hair.


The commercial opens on the 1920s Seine riverbank with a wideshot showing a most romantic Paris in period attire.


Two people meet under the lamps. He's buying flowers, she greets him.



They're embracing when he asks "Are you wearing perfume?"



"Yes, but it's a secret..."



The mystique of the elusive fragrance is left hanging in the air, almost whispered or not quite as they walk on past one of the many Parisian cafés, leaving us to dream a bit...

What the fragrance would be named or smell like never really revealed itself beyond the closed doors at le studio Chanel. It was a secret project, secretive like Coco heself liked to look at the audience during a defilé so she would tuck behind the famous mirrored staircase and she could see everyone's expression yet nobody could see her ~she also monitored the sales floor by looking at the mirrored staircase~ as the 1962 photo by Hatami or this Frank Horvart photo from 1958 on the left shows! The mirror notion is a symbol for a look into both the esoterica of one's personality in times of introspection as well as a reflection (an eidolon, if you please!) on the brand's own core. Magic is done with mirrors and fun-fairs are resplendent with transforming mirrors that reveal hidden dimensions and sides of one's look. Perfume can act like a mirror that can be accurate, or alternatively distorting in a grotesque or burlesque sense, depending on our own aspirations, humour and sense of self-constaint. It's no accident that mirrors play an integral visual and symbolic part in the latest Keira Knightley commercial for Coco Mademoiselle directed by Joe Wright!
The plain, austerely chic packaging of iconic Chanel perfumes is also a tabula rasa, a secret mirror on which to reflect one's own personality, inducing no preconceived evocations. Ikki Miyake's "No. 19 Susashi-Kotoba `Perfume,' " artwork shown at the Chanel Nexus Hall in Ginza as part of the DanDans exhibition, was a whimsical play on the Chanel perfume bottle; yet it captures Chanel's secret quite well. The secret is that we can mentally squeeze ourselves into a chic Chanel flacon much like the model is being immersed in one on this stiking photo.

Please read a moving tribute to Anthony Minghella by his three-times collaborator Jude Law published in the Obsever last December.

Thanks to Andy Sparrow, hackelbuy.co.uk, shelterinteriordesign blog

Cristalle Eau Verte by Chanel: new fragrance

News in the perfume world erupt like Mini-Me clones in Austin Powers movies: spontaneously! An upcoming flanker ~or flankers~ by Chanel to its old classic, nicely unisex Cristalle had been reported on these pages some time ago:

"Cristalle is not only not showing signs of being discontinued as had been feared by many perfume bloggers and participants on online fora, but there seems to be a series of flankers programmed or at least in the process of thought to exploit its chic and insouciant pedigree. Variations, such as Eau Aromatic ~shouldn't it be Aromatique, though?~, Eau Citrus and Eau Rosée and/or perhaps also Bleu de Cristalle, which seems an older (abandoned?) trademark. Whether these will be issued under the collective name Cristalle Facettes (Facets of Cristalle) or the term Facettes is reserved for some makeup addendum is dubious. We will soon enough see for ourselves".

It seems that at least the first (?) one will see the light of day in late March-early April 2009 (at least across Europe). This time it is baptised Cristalle Eau Verte according to Sephora insiders, vert meaning of course "green" in French. One reporter has already tested it, and if my grasp of Latinogenic languages isn't too faulty the notes include: bergamot, Sicilian lemon, a magnolia accord, neroli, jasmine absolute, white musk and Florentine iris. Lubiana Mara Poli seems mildly positive about it, noticing the pronounced citrusy facets mollified by a soft touch. Hard-core fans however might be a little disappointed as there is no great relation to the classic 1974 Eau de Toilette Cristalle composition scent-wise, despite the notes, and neither to the intentionally different more floral chypre Eau de Pafum version from 1993.

The recipe for mainstream variations of Eaux for summer is nicely cottoning on it seems (as attested by Chanel's own version of Chance Eau Fraîche but also by the new Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau and L'Eau J'adore flankers for pafums Dior). I am excluding Eau Première by Chanel for our purposes here as although the tag "eau" is used, the rendition is one of very softened No.5, bearing no relation to citrus or aromatic notes but being almost a sibling in alcoholic form to the silicone-based No.5 Sensual Elixir.

It is of course a long-established tradition in the Mediterranean to have a type of Eau de Cologne scent at one's immediate grasp at summertime, as previously discussed and the hesperidic touches are an instant mood-enhancer, so it makes perfect sense that such a vogue has firm olfactory legs in time-honoured practices. It's especially interesting to note that this comes at a time when the economy, as well as global warming, necessitate a much-needed boost to the morale. The synergy of refreshment and optimism that hesperidia brings is irresistible, it seems!
The question focused on Cristalle Eau Verte is how much greener it can get ~and how different than all the other "greens" in Les Exclusifs upscale exclusive-Chanel-boutique line or their Eau de Cologne; and will it be a homonguous vat of a bottle which is so au courant?

In regards to the former issue, the optical relation with the similarly green-hued Chance Eau Fraîche (as well as the various concentrations of No.19) doesn't particularly play to its advantage, one would note. Too much green juice might confuse and deter the consumer. Whereas the shades of juice in Chanel had been beautifully varieted up to now between the straw-coloured older batches of Cristalle, the light emeralds of No.19 to the golden ambery of No.5 and the auburn tones of Coco Mademoiselle, suddenly there is an oversaturation of green (unless No.19 plays truant to Les Exclusifs side, but I don't want to get you into a panic just yet!).
Additionally, smell-wise there are already a few "green" fragrances in the stable, especially Les Exclusifs, with Bel Respiro, Sycomore and 28 La Pausa having that quiet, hushed foliage tone that hints at all things leafy. And an excellent Eau de Cologne too! But perhaps those are more exclusive scents for an in-the-know clientelle whereas the new fragrance aims at the regular Sephora customer. Which is not bad in itself, on the contrary!
As to the matter of the flacon embottling the new Cristalle Vert, judging by No.5 Eau Première it would go the same way of abundant yet sane sizes.

Photo of Cristalle bottle manipulated by Perfumeshrine

Sitting quietly, doing nothing, spring comes, and the grass grows by itself

Such a Zen feeling as that of today's title engulfs my psyche as I let myself bask in the sunny goodness, lazy like a spoiled cat that has seen some winters and some springs come and go but never lost her sense of contenment, sighing at the first warm days she's finally free to chase fat pigeons on the terracotta-laid rooftops.
Spring is univocally here as you can see and my mind wanders on avenues of floral and green fragrances that like a breath of optimism promise some fresh air blown over the ashes of burnt winter thoughts; that like a re-invigorated kittie is eager for some mental stretch.

"Every spring is the only spring - a perpetual astonishment", said Ellis Peters, and I couldn't express the feeling in a more awe-struck way at the eternal Dionysus's return.
The following fragrances, some of which might get a full review later on, if the mood strikes, are listed in no particular order but that of making me yearn for every dawn like it's the first one.


Tocadilly by Rochas
If a spring fragrance can combine warmth and coolness like the mark of one's breath on the window-pane on an ambiguous chilly morning that will later thaw, then the armload of lilacs hiding in this fragrance's heart are just what is needed. Christopher Sheldrake worked with a delicate palette that weaves jade-greens and wisteria-mauves into mixes that blur and leave you wondering at its ethereal beauty, much like watching a dance perfomance that defies gravity. Most unfairly overlooked and making me appreciate its rarity value even more!

Snob by Le Galion
The unusual green, licorice-bittersweet aspect of estragon, among the so-called "simples", one-remedy herbs, used by Hippocrates and possibly (?) named after a corruption of the middle-French esdragon (derived from the plant's Latin specific name artemisia dracunculus, "little dragon") is reputed to help in treating bites of insects and snakes. I wouldn't dream of wishing you any occurrence in which you should need its medicinal properties, but if you are simpatico to its charms, the combination with the classical floral bouquet of rose and jasmine is producing something very close to Patou's Joy and yet a little different in a cocky way in this -by now obscure- French firm's of the 1930s offering.

Cristalle by Chanel
If a cartload of juicy lemons is smiling my way on its embarkment spot in Sicily via an architectural austere flacon then I know I am in the presence of Cristalle in Eau de Toilette. If by some fateful chance I am garlanding my hair with yellow bits of honeysuckle blossoms while drinking said lemonade at an outdoor cinema just opening its gavel-strewn lawns in May after months of inertia, then Cristalle in Eau de Parfum is winking its seductive, youthful wiles at me. The night is nostalgic and promising and I am smitten by its pedigree and effortless elegance.

Lentisque by 06310
The at once fluffy and oleaginous flavour of mastic or lentisque, a resin from a variety of the pistachio tree growing on the island of Chios in the Eastern Aegean sea is hard to convincingly capture. In this Grasse family-owned company's fragrance, the beloved culinary lentisque is blended with essences of amber seed, iris, jasmin, Turkish rose, musk, amber and vetiver to render an amalgamation of aromata that seem to hazily blur like watercolours running into each other on thick drawning paper, mixed during a nonchalant Sunday afternoon.

Flora Nerolia by Guerlain
There is nothing more March-like than the smell of bitter orange trees blossoming, their waxy white petals infiltrating the glossy green of the leaves and some fruit still hanging from the branches, like a reminder of what has been already accomplished. Guerlain captured the ethereal vapors of steam of these delicate, ravishing blossoms and married them to a pre-emptying summery jasmine and the faint whiff of cool frankincense burning inside a Greek Orthodox church preparing for the country's most devout celebration: Easter. Flora Nerolia is like a snapshot of late Lent in Greece and for that reason is absolutely precious to me.

Vanille Galante by Hermès
One of my latest infatuations, this water-ballet of lily and vanilla pod is uttely charming on skin that is coming out of hibernation like migratory habits of exotic birds which come back to nest on one's roof, their happy melodious sounds signalling the final coming of warmth. If Vanille Galante were a bird it would be a Kookaburra.

Fiori di Capri by Carthusia
If wood is the Chinese symbol of elementals for spring, then Fiori di Capri is not out of place, thanks to its distinctive oak-y vibrance beneath an intensely indolic peppery carnation and some innocently coy lily of the valley. Allegedly based on an original fragrance by Father Prior of the San Giacomo Monastry on Capri, made in 1380, the scent is just this side short of being a ticket to either the verdant Capri itself or the vertiginous heights of the Balcon de Europa in Nerja, Malaga.

Une Fleur de Cassie by Frédéric Malle
The catty-animalic pong of cassie hiding in this gem floral in the Editions de Parfums line-up is an emblem of a formidable perfumer, Dominique Ropion. Cassie flower is succulently and troublingly feminine with its intimate aura of consumed bodies and here it reveals its facets unapologetically, with a little carnation as a counterpoint sumptuously combined with vanilla and sandlwood. Wearing it makes me feel like La Veuve Aphrodissia in Marguerite Yourcenar's Nouvelles Orientales collection of short stories: the impossible alliance between passion and social conventions.

Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens
If Carnal Flower is my default tuberose for summer thanks to its green humid airness and slight coconutty deliciousness that makes it tropical and modern to the 9th degree, Tubereuse Criminelle is just the right rite of passage worthy of a Stravinsky suite to prepare the grounds for summer and thus perfect for this transitional period. Its camphoric opening is akin to spectacular and beautiful weirdness.

Amoureuse by Parfums DelRae Roth
Pry under a delicate constellation of petals and you come face to face with something more naughty than you would ever imagine at first: the genitals of a living organism; on this occasion a flower's! The spicy, heady, at once green and floral coalescence of Amoureuse, seguing to musky perfection is unashamedly sexy and reminiscent of what spring is all about: nature's season for mating!


If you have a moment to spare the following little online test might tell you which flowers' scented style might suit you best.

What are you wearing or planning to wear this sping?


All photos copyright Helg/Perfumeshrine