Tocadilly by Rochas: fragrance review

There is a French expression "mettre en valeur" which roughly translates as to highlight, to draw attention to one's best features. This is what Tocadilly by Rochas does; an ethereal scent that highlights the flowers of spring I love ~lilac, wisteria and mimosa~ beautifully, yet transcends the genre of floral. The feeling I get, when I sort this out of my perfume wardrobe at the first hints of spring, is just like the interplay of cool and warm one experiences upon imprinting their breath "fog" on a wet window pane.

Tocadilly by Marcel Rochas is a floral which launched in 1997 amidst a sea of aquatics and marines. It was said that it represents the younger sister of Tocade, an intensely rosy vanillic fragrance by Maurice Roucel from 1994, yet I do not perceive the kinship of spirit that should tie them in such a close relationship. They both have the same design of flacon, nevertheless, created by bottle designer Serge Mansau; but to Tocade's red packaging hues Tocadilly conterpoints blue-green-purple tones and the aura of the scent is complimentary.
Perfumer Christopher Sheldrake (currently at Chanel) is best known for his oeuvre under the wing of Serge Lutens composing a sumptuous line of persuasive orientals and opulent florals. In Tocadilly those preconceptions are shed and Sheldrake reveals a light, lacy touch that is capable of creating diaphanous effects which do not lack staying power or diffusion. The composition is segmentated into interesting facets of aqueous, fruity, floral and lightly ambery-powdery, fusing into a playful, cheerful and tender composition that is above all soft.

Three years before the modern aqueous lilacs of En Passant (2000), realised by Olivia Giacobetti for éditions des parfums Frédéric Malle, Tocadilly had captured this unholy allience between "clean" and "dirty" (Lilacs naturally have an anisic spiciness/powderiness recreated through anisaldehyde and heliotropin in fragrances, as extraction is so uneconomical/unyielding*; yet they often also possess an animalic undercurrent like pollen dusted on impolite feminine parts, especially the mauve-tinged blooms). The watery impression of Tocadilly is less "marine" than En Passant and the yeasty note is absent completely, rendering a must-try for both lovers and haters of En Passant.
The unusual pear note comes from the flavour industry and was contemporarily explored in Annick Goutal's Petite Chérie. Yet in Tocadilly it's not as easily decomposed and the absence of intense sugary lappings helps along, focusing instead on the almost pollen-like aroma of wisteria and lilacs. The mimosa is detectable ~and delectable, providing the emotional foil for the overall spring-like tonality which runs through the fragrance. Yet one would be hard pressed to designate Tocadilly to any particular season. It's utterly friendly and wearable in almost all settings and all climates, easing itself with an insouciant shrug of the shoulders and a child-like innocence that's not without a little mischief.

Notes for Rochas Tocadilly:
Top: cucumber, lilac, hyacinth, pear, jasmine, tiare, wisteria, mallow, mimosa and mandarin.
Heart: glycine/wisteria, coconut and heliotrope.
Base: sandalwood, musk and amber.

Sadly discontinued, Tocadilly is still available online.

*There is a fragrance that is purpotedly using a natural extraction of the flower itself, Highland Lilac of Rochester, to which we will return soon.

Photo Dreams and Cookies II via meren.org. Lilacs shot by PerfumeShrine, all rights reserved.

Christian Dior Escale a Pondichery: fragrance review

If the idea of travelling to far away, sweaty places full of the pungency of warm bodies, overripe fruit at the marketplace, mud and animals' dung appeals to you more than the actual travelling, there is the escapism of travelogue fragrance snippets meant to ignite your olfactory nerve in stictly non-offensive ways. Escale à Pondichéry is the latest release from parfums Christian Dior following Escale à Portofino from 2008. The new cologne is a tribute to the erstwhile ex-French Colony in India and is the second instalment in the series "les escales de Dior" (Dior's ports-of-call), initiated and composed by François Demachy, Senior vice president of olfactive development of perfumes for the LVMH group(he created Fahrenheit 32 for Dior as well). And is appropriately accompanied by a make-up follow-up in a Rose Pondichery nude-rose gloss to go with it (don't ever let anyone tell you you're not matchy-matchy, huh?)


According to the Hindu Business Line, Dior scheduled the official fragrance launch at The Dune Eco Beach Hotel in Puduchery in a move of almost parochial emphasis. The celebration took 3 days and 40 journalists from around the world staying at the popular 36-acre eco-friendly resort.

The Eau-de-Cologne-with-a-twist interpretation of the Escales de Dior series blossomed into pleasantly appealing local folklore in last year's Escale à Portofino with its Italian accents of bergamot, citron, petitgrain, glorious orange blossoms and bitter almonds, all part of the local flora. The pneuma of those colognes is expressed by the link between the raw materials and the chosen destinations, lands of culture and fragant history. François Demachy next chose India, inspired by the fragrances from Pondicherry and Kerala, to unravel the exotic fragrances of India and the raw materials we have come associate with the peninsula: Jasmine, sandalwood and tea. According to the press release "The perfumer has selected a black tea enwrapped in a fresh and light signature that harmonizes with a spirit of happy insouciance".

The idea of a light cologne in an Indian setting has been previously explored in the perplexing yet astute Un Jardin après la Mousson by Jean Claude Ellena for Hermès. Boucheron created Jaipur, a different beast, a fruity oriental inspired by the legendary city of jewels; Patou featured the banana note of ylang- ylang and jasmine in the floriental Sira des Indes; while Kenzo Amour Indian Holi even has "holi hai" written on the red bottle in Hindi! Even Cabochard was inspired by memories of a soujourn of Madame Grès at the exotic peninsula. And of course there's always Shalimar... India has never been short of pefumes dedicated to its olfactory traditions!

It seems however that travel destinations are very popular right now with big companies (judging by the travelogue of the Guerlain scents which we were the first to reveal back in August last year or the travel exclusives of Lauder and Lancôme) as are Eaux de Cologne in general (from the new Hermès Cologne collection including Eau de Pamplemousse Rose and Eau de Gentiane Blanche to the Chanel Exclusif Eau de Cologne which pre-emptied the trend).

India however has not been unknown to the Christian Dior fashion house: Chandernagore/Chandannagar, another Indian town of French colonisation, was referenced as early as in Dior's Fall-Winter 1947 collection! In 1962, Dior held two shows in Delhi and Mumbai and the last creation presented was ‘Voyage en Inde’ (Voyage to India). And of course the Dune hotel nicely references the now classic Dune fragance by Dior, a non-ozone "marine" for the 90s. However Goa, the ulta-popular destination for the new generation of India-travellers was eschewed in favour of Pondichéry, “a distant and exotic destination, an ideal of escapism and travel”, according to Demachy.

In Dior's Escale à Pondichry the diaphanous, almost colourless juice ~in the matelassé glass bottle that is meant to transcend the collection~ delivers a shot of refreshing and nicely bittersweet aroma meant to act as a journey carnet in very simple strokes. Four major Indian ingredients went into the making of this perfume and they're mingled into the composition with delicate mannerisms that should please without aspirations of symphonic cadenzas. Demachy lists them as Cardamom Essence in the top; Jasmine Sambac Absolute in the heart; Sandalwood Essence in the bottom; and Black Tea Extract as a "fil rouge" (common thread). Although one almost expects by default some spice in a composition inspired by India, the graceful weaving through of cardamom, used to aromatize both coffee and tea, is the protagonist in the delicate and contemporary take on a refreshing cologne of citrus opening with a pleasingly dry base and very transparent floral accents. The composition doesn't especially smell of the tannic facets of stong brews of black tea (and aren't there enough tea fragrances on the market already?), but more of an abstract idea of ambery woodiness and lightly smoky powder (probably due to synthetic musks). Will it prove as popular as Escale à Portofino did? It remains to be seen. The demographic is the same, but I predict that this one might attract more men without being too masculine in scent.

From a visual point of view the advertisements with the big-straw hat blonde Edita , all decked in white bat-sleeves and pop sunglasses bring to mind more of Estée Lauder or Elizabeth Arden cruise-style collections for WASP ladies than the exotic locales of India or the boho-chic tourists that pilgrimage. And it leaves one in aporia as to why Kalyani Chawla (the indian face of Dior) wasn't appropriate for this project of all projects! But the marketing angle is thus apparent and who can blame them? The modern consumer of globalised galivanting is far removed from the Ravi Shankar apprentices who followed en route to the spiritual. Perhaps taking that last observartion in mind might ellucidate the facets that surface in the latest fragrance.


Escale à Pondichéry launched in India on Saturday March 21st, launches in European boutiques on May 28th and is expected to arrive on the US shores in July 2009. It will be available in 75ml bottles of Eau de Toilette for 64,95€ .

Oh and if Dior is taking ideas, might I suggest the next escale is inspired by Assos in Cephalonia, Greece? (click for pic here)

Pics via Dune hotel blog and fr.bkrw.com.

Mapping Scents of Spirituality

While I am sitting on my desk with the open window rushing in the fragrant air full with the blossoms of bigaradier and the trembling dew of spring on them, my elderflower cordial by my side, I am thinking of how this Good Friday reminds me of Good Fridays past, those of my formative years and the thoughts that accompanied them.

I recall as a teenager sitting on the old, wooden pew and smelling the luminous, Byzantine, old church. Not only the predictable incence smoking in the cencers; neither the peeling varnish off the old egg tempera icons, nor the slight mustiness of the corners of the rugs on the floor where feet slightly wet from the spring showers had walked on; not even the flowers garlanding the "epitafios", the symbolic deathbed of Jesus: lilacs and narcissi (it was a country church; in the city it's lilies and roses). It was the assembly itself emitting its own smell of humanity and through it all a familiar smokish vanilla with slight accents of the inside of an old leather handbag. The scent assaulted my nostrils with the vexing pang of unidentified familiarity. I couldn't place it...And then out of blue the realisation hit me like a ton of bricks: Shalimar! Some unidentified woman wearing that most carnal oriental, bronzy like the candelabras that burned over our heads bearing the history of centuries. It puzzled me...

Good Friday is traditionally a day of abstinence, often subsisting on nothing but bread and water. And yet, here there was a carnal scent reminding me of non spiritual matters on that day. This chasm between the spiritual and the carnal is at the heart of matter. If Orthodoxy is antithetical to the Protestant faith in embracing the most humane of our faults while at the same time not granting the forgiveness that is so tangibly accessible in the confessional of Catholisism, how is it even possible that the carnal is so much accepted? How can the pleasure of the senses subsist into the celebration of the celebral and the divine?
But the Pagan survival in almost everything involving the rituals I remember is omnipresent: The beeswax candles that drip on the sand trays where old people stick them decisively yet with trembling hands, the wine that gets spilled on the floor as a tribute to the power of mother earth, the fires lain on the street of the castello fortified villages on the top of the Greek islands and the purotechnics shot on Easter's Eve midnight with their sulphurous smell...And most importantly, the death of the young god whose resurrection in the middle of nature's releafing is the return of Dionysus.
When my steps in assorted historical pursuits later took me to "ascetaria" (places of hermites) the myrrh exuded off the craggy walls of the caves stopped me in my tracks with its beauty and its caressing of the senses. How a person who lived on faith and little else could emit such a strong smell of holiness, and on top of that how could this smell be so pleasurable? Isn't sanctity synonymous to refusal? The question bugged me for long and it lay hidden at a corner of my mind, peaking its thorny head from time to time when an occassionary excess of the flesh filled me with an unexplicable sense of sorrow and unfullfilment. How could the Dionysian and the Appolonian, the Cthonic and the Olympian, coexist in a single soul?

Years enriched me with experiences and my dreary feet took me to various places with spiritual connotations. To the Bangkok Buddist temples with their serene smoke and the colourful blanket of different races entering and leaving, their skins and breaths speaking of exotic fruits of far away origin and pungent fish-soup. To the Great Mosque at Cordoba, Spain where Muslims kneeled beneath the pointy minarets, their clothes and bodies bearing the scented traces of lives lived beneath shady patios where the jasmine vines grow rampant. To the mahleb and cardamom smelling bakeries of Istanbul preparing the yummy desserts of the holy days, bought by Christians and Muslims alike, and the street vendors on Boğaziçi Köprüsü selling salep and salty mackerels to ease the hunger of the tourists. To the foreboding Minster in Ulm, Germany, its vertical majesty evoking thoughts of awe, where people pin little prayers on the cork board beginning "Liebe Gott" and the aroma of Eau de Cologne on the hands of the waiters in the cafeteria across the square. To the colourful vitraux of the York Minster, England, where the humidity of the soil and the sharp northern lights of the sky cannot hide the splendour of the roses blooming in the church yard and the women who stooped to smell them going out of the vesper service. To the modern synagogues of the East Coast of the US where kindly people share their cookies recipes in hushed whispers, whetting my appetite for culinary escapades upon returning home. And coming full circle, to immigrant familiar Greek churches in Melbourne, Australia, where the familiar, thick and smoky stench of Easter "lamb on a spit" roasting is never farther than a stone's throw away and where the whole street down the neighrhood is invited to the feas, no matter their adherent religion.

Because spirituality, I finally realised, is independent of religion and cannot be experienced if one has not first embraced all that this wonderful, this amazingly rich and truly wonderful life has to ferret: the good and the bad and the thorny. And the fragrant.



The kontakion "Ω γλυκύ μου έαρ" (My sweet spingtime) was written by Saint Romanus the Melodus in the 6th century AD and is the standard song of the Good Friday street procession throughout Greece.

Pics via greekingreece.gr, amorgos.blogs.gr, lovingit.co.uk

Hanami by Ayala Moriel at Blunda Los Angeles

It all started with a poem and a blog project: In March 2008, perfumer Ayala Sender was invited along with 14 other leading perfumers in the niche perfume industry to interpret a haiku-like poem by Ezra Pound, "In A Station of the Metro" for a project titled "Perfume In A Poem" on Memory & Desire blog. One year later, Ayala Moriel releases the perfume, named Hanami, at Blunda Aromatics in Los Angeles, in the 2nd of their 8-part Natural Botanical Perfume Exhibitions.
You can read more about Hanami on this link.
What:Natural Botanical Perfumery Exhibition #2: Hanami by Ayala MorielWhen:Saturday, April 18th, 1-5pmAyala Sender will speak at 2pmWhere:Blunda Los Angeles304 South Edinburgh Ave.Los Angeles, CA, 90048RSVP: (323) 658-7507 or email: rsvp@blundaaromatics.comFollowing the exhibition, Hanami perfume will be available exclusively through Blunda and Ayala Moriel's studio @ #314-1230 Haro Street in Vancouver, and the online boutique www.ayalamoriel.com

The Strange Case of Dr.Oakmoss and Mr.Citrus (part 2)

We talked about the latest restrictions and how oakmoss is one complicated issue and tried to disentangle it a bit in Part 1. But there are more resticted ingredients, whose pros and cons we hope to analyse here. Yet revelations happen with the sudden “swoosh” of pyrotechnics.

The very perceptive Pat from Olfactarama sent me this most eye-opening comment:

“I poked around a little and came up with the RIFM's [Research Institute for Fragrance Materials] annual report. You may already have seen this document, but if not, there is a lot of interesting info here. I'm wondering if this organization isn't one of the ways the labs are funneling research funding into these studies, which may then be used to strongarm the fragrance industry. Since annual reports must be available to the public, it's possible to bypass the "members only" logjam at the site's opening -- I believe some of the publications papers are also available for reading. The list near the back gives RIFM's "partners," and most of the big fragrance manufacturers (Chanel, Estee Lauder, et. al.) are on it. Here is the link: RIFM.Org

I urge you to click the link (it's NOT the well known IFRA amendement, it's a different organisation) and read the participating members on the last page; blink a little and read again!

Chanel….The one company who profited by the downfall of Guerlain to the eyes of many perfume enthusiasts. The one company who salvaged their reputation through the hardships of having to appeal to mainsteam tastes and all with easy elegance. Now, there is proof that they do not oppose the restrictions which are set to harm them most: the jasmine restrictions (as well as the coumarin, ylang ylang, eugenol, oakmoss et al). Octavian had succintcly put it:

“Remember that not only the perfume extract contains a great amount of French jasmine but also this is at the heart of all marketing stories of Chanel. Chanel always insisted on the quality of its jasmine, being one of the very few to use the French type, also cultivated by Chanel” and from a marketing point of view, how can you communicate about jasmine now? Can you show the fields, the extraction and write articles about No5 history and quality when IFRA tells that "jasminum grandiflorum" is "poison"?

It’s a problem. The continuation of the myth will necessarily have to be a covert lie.

However Chanel in either an attempt to salvage what they can (how? I’d advise the Wertheimer brothers to make a statement to that) or to retain their market share without increasing prices are condoning the reformulations. I do know that they are rigorous in preserving quality and just as there are different grades of foodstuff so there are in perfumery ingredients, so they will use the best available. But still the question is: what will there be available?

And Lauder is also a member of RIFM. This makes the futile hope of people in the US that American made perfumes might retain their formula unchanged just that…futile. It was plainly to see before, since Lauder fragrances are made by IFF (who belongs to IFRA), but since not all people know that tidbit, it’s worth mentioning now.

On what concerns citrus restrictions, the kerfuffle is too much for no special reason in most cases. Many people exclaim –justifiably-: “Ridiculous! I get more orange essence on my hands by peeling an orange or on my mouth by eating it than by using perfume!”. True, but there’s a catch: Most citruses in perfumes are synthetic already! Yes, yes, even those you think are naturals. Yes, yes, even some very respected brands (Shalimar anyone? Mitsouko?) . And you know, the difference isn't that perceptible to the majority of even discerning noses and bergamot in particular has been substituted for years due to its photosensitizing begaptene. Which is why I witnessed the groves in Sicily and Calabria being a waning craft...
Yet some citrus essences can be realistically replicated. Want proof? Go smell In Love Again by Yves Saint Laurent. Great realistic grapefruit note, huh? 100% synthetic. But that doesn't diminish the artistry of it, nor should it deter you from using it.

Of course there are several niche and small perfumers (notably the all-naturals field) who continue to use natural extracts and they'e taking a hard blow with the latest; this might make them outlaw indeed! Anya McCoy said:

"There are few willing to take a stance on this. I will. I will continue to use all of the aromatics I wish, with a warning label. If, as it seems it will, the regulations come to the USA, and the FDA enforces them, I will protest and am willing to become a legal case, if necessary. I dare others to join me. That is my solution to the oakmoss, orange, rose, ylang ylang (ad infinitum materials) problem."

Of course that means solely Internet sales... No brand which hopes to have their scents in brick and mortar stores can afford this, since they are subject to import laws (from either the EU or the US).

Brands which use a high degree of natural extracts, citrus and otherwise, such as Annick Goutal, Miller Harris, and Ormonde Jayne are facing a very real problem, hitting them like a ton of bricks. Their buying of raw materials will be seriously challenged thanks to the tale-over of the Grasse companies of raw materials (as discussed here) and due to their drastic change in the formula they will have a hard time adjusting to the changes. You might stock up on those as well. In fact a MUA poster, Alabasterkitten, has noticed a bunch of them at Loehmann's last night, $50 for 1.7 oz - Songes (jasmine, ylang ylang), Mandragore (bergamot), Eau de Hadrien (lemon and citruses, oakmoss), Petite Cherie (pear synth), Gardenia Passion (oakmoss, jasmine) and Nuits d'Hadrien (citrus)!

As to other ingredients, there are many but there are ways around them without much compromise. Verbena has been singled out in online discussions, because it's a common aromatherapeutic infusion and oil and it created the question how it could be regarded as a "bad" thing. Well, litsea cubeba has a bracing lemony note that could sufficiently substitute it and in fact it extends the effect nicely into the middle notes, a trick often used by pefumers to extend tangy aspects. So, no problem there.

Hydroxycitronellal (lily of the valley) is on the chopping block, as is majantol. Obviously lily of the valley will suffer as a note, not mentioning Lilial (by Givaudan) and Lyral (by IFF), which have also been examined regarding their sensitizing properties. Lily of the valley is a more common note than one would suspect, because it both opens up the bouquet of classic perfumes and it imparts a collateral “clean” note to modern ones (perhaps due to its mega presence in functional cleaning products). Diorissimo has already changed it packaging to denote the change that has been implemented to the levels of hydroxycitronnelal: the newer white packaging with pink “oval” bearing the name states hydroxycitronellal further behind other ingredients instead of the slightly older batch of pink packaging with white oval. The change is subtle and very cunning: while right now the packaging can be an indicator of batches, the introduction of a different colour schema is an optical blurring, ready for further –and final- chopping off! The consumer will never be able to realise without minutely examining the allergens list, which -let’s face it- is not what most people do.

Ylang Ylang is that rare thing: a comparatively inexpensive natural. Which poses a question over its impending restrictions. Baffled there.

The most serious aspect however and I don't know how it can be bypassed is jasmine....
Jasmine grandiflorum will be limited to 0.7% and jasmine sambac to 4%, under the latest 43rd amendement of IFRA. They are potent, so even a little helps, but 0.7% is getting pretty low...Jasmine is the emblem of quality French perfumery, a whole mythos behind many famous classics (No.5, Joy etc.) as stated so passionately on Grain de Musc and sadly both the grandiflorum and the sambac variety come under the latest restictions. And since Grasse jasmine was used in only the extrait of those classics, if you absolutely love those, you might stock up. Although don't be fooled, they have already been altered numerous times. No.5 has been stated to have changed its musks (eradicating the nitromusks so maligned by environmental studies) but smelling olde batches confirms that it’s not only them that changed. Since P&G (who belong to the RIFM oganisation, as stated in the above PDF) are the licence owners for parfums Patou, Joy is also to be changed irrevocably, probably to the great chagrin of resident perfumer Jean Michel Duriez.

The matter is terribly complicated, but....Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose!

Pic of Dr.Jekyl and Mr.Hyde cover via sbfmedia.relationalhost.com. Diorissimo through photobucket search. Jasmine by Perfumeshrine, all rights reserved.