Mathilde Laurent Responds to Perfume Shrine's Questions (& a little on Cartier Les Heures du Parfum)

Most of you are familiar with Mathilde Laurent through her early work at Guerlain, when as a young graduate of ISIPCA, under the aegis of Jean Paul Guerlain she created her modern epics, faithful to the patrimony of papa Jacques: Her Guet Apens (later re-issued as Attrape Coeur, the whole entangled story can be read on this link) is one of the most celebrated "new Guerlains" among cognoscenti, in the degree that it reflects a true Guerlain character, yet is resolutely of its own era.

Her Shalimar Eau Légère, reviewed and cherised on these pages, is another one which takes the best of tradition and injects it with the saturated hues and bold lines of a contemporary Francis Bacon painting. Like her artistic idol Camille Claudel ~as divulged to Marian Bendeth on a Basenotes project last year~ Mathilde appreciates modernity coupled with sensitivity and creativity.
Pamplelune with its sunny grapefruit side is, surprisingly enough for its daring sulfurous mien, still a Guerlain best-seller and one of two Aqua Allegorias (a sub-line in the Guerlain portfolio with lighter, less complex scents) which has remained in production ever since introduction of the line, the other being Herba Fresca with its surprising take on mint. (Her other creations in the Aqua Allegoria line included Ylang et Vanille and Rosa Magnifica) At some point, Mathilde Laurent left Guerlain to spread her wings unto greener pastures, including a brief stint at jeweler André Gas in 2006 (for the Polynesian tropical scent Ensoleille-Moi) and the current in-house perfumer position at the venerable Cartier headquarters, where she is composing bespoke scents (Sources place the price for juice to last 3-5 years up to 60,000 euros or $75,500). Her masculine, (again) mint-ladden Roadster for the mainstream jewellery house release last year has graced our pages and was considered a successful entry, poised most wisely between commerciability and artistic merit. Mathilde's talent is undisputed, her desire and ambition to compliment the art of perfumery with a decisive and landmarking contribution nevertheless is laudable. For her "perfume is a message, an expression of oneself" and a perfumer is "a sillagiste!"

I took the invitation that Elisa de Feydeau kindly opened for her francophone readers and asked Mathilde a couple of questions which she was most gracious to reply to. For the benefit of our English-speaking readers, here are her answers.

My first question had to do with something I had read in Perfumes, the Guide, a quote by Luca Turin in his Pamplelune review, in which he equated Laurent's turning to bespoke perfumery to "the saddest waste of human talent since Rimbaud decided to study engineering" (If this isn't praise, I don't know what is!). I was wondering whether the foreboding feeling created by this remark in my mind had come to a reversal through the new line Les Heures du Parfum for Cartier (a high-end project more on which below) and whether she was hopeful that the new line would open a dialogue between herself and perfume lovers; those Others beyond the scope of the mega-rich who have the means to order their very own perfume. After all, as revealed by Jean Claude Ellena to us before, custom perfumery runs the risk of inadvertdly "deceiving" the customer.

Mathilde Laurent herself had explained the bespoke process in the past in very clear terms: "Together (with the client), we explore scents associated with meaningful life experiences, from pleasant childhood recollections to a present image the client wishes to project. We transpose the Cartier style, a perfectly studied simplicity, into the scent. Just a few carefully selected high-grade ingredients are blended, so that each essence remains distinctive, not lost in a hazy combination." In the pursuit of good materials, she's relentless: "I look for the truly exceptional, the atypical, the never-before-seen" (The floral extracts used cost about $5,000 per kilogram, or $142 per ounce). "The provenance of the flower, its rarity where it was bred, the manner of extracting its essence, the climatic conditions that year, all are taken into account."
In hindsight Mathilde appreciates Luca Turin's accolades enormously: "He was among the first to support me and encourage me". She terms the bespoke service "a step, a detour in order to get someplace else". "I could never imagine not creating for The Others", she reveals, although she's quick to point out that "bespoke perfumery is for me a wonderful means to be close to those who love and wear perfume and to push the envelope regarding experimentation on new accords, to test and increase one's creativity and one's technique. Bespoke perfumery acts as a complimentary course for me, it nourishes my work on other projects. I hope that Cartier's Les Heures du Parfum will generate a dialogue with people wearing them, since for me perfume is a message that the skin diffuses, I am always interested in expression, perfume is always destined for the Other".

Another issue that is burning perfume lovers and the industry itself with the intensity of a surgical laser is the pressing issue of restrictions on perfumery ingredients. (You can read a recap and personal thoughts with a minimum of emotional sidekicks on this link and on that one). Mathilde Laurent proved to me to be both practical and wise: "Regarding the perfumery materials which are restricted from our palette, I pretend they never existed. Nevertheless, I continue to search for the effect they present, even though it might be considered a tad Utopian; to substitute with other ingredients and combinations. One must always start from scratch and search, search...Having "come of age" at Guerlain however {she started apprenticeship there at the tender age of 23, going to exotic places and learning about ingredients with the very best} I have intimately known all of those precious materials before they were rationed and their effect has most definitely marked me. I do keep them in memory, always!" Hopefully, with creative minds such as Mathilde's, even the parsimonious palette of essences that is left to perfumers can take a new shape and be utilized in a novel syntax that have been left unatttured till now. The future is here and it is brave!
As to her own pleasure, Mathilde has left herself to be seduced by her latest creation for Cartier XIII La Treizième Heure, a smoky leathery composition, even though she declares she never wears perfume on her free time (Her other rare ~she stresses~ indulgunce is Guet Apens). After all, she hopes to instigate a discourse, not a monologue, and I hope she will always succeed in doing that!

Les Heures du Parfum by Cartier are set to be 13 fragrances in the "neo-niche" mold of luxury brands such as Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences, boutique Guerlain scents, Armani Prive, Van Cleef & Arpels etc. (material-oriented compositions, uniform bottles, limited distribution). Cartier touts them as 'one really haute collection of fragrances for connoisseurs' to commemorate . The scents take on Latin numbers instead of names to reflect the digits on the famous Cartier watches, plus a lucky number thirteen in honour of the number of la maison Cartier's first address at 13 Rue de la Paix in Paris. They are to be spaced out in a period of a few years. The first five are coming out this November on the 10th in 35 Cartier boutiques all around the world. Eau de Parfum in 75 ml flacons for 250 dollars (Chayaruchama told me they're already at Saks in New York City, so New Yorkers take note and report back!).

Fragrance Notes for Les Heures du Parfum according to Grain de Musc (who got them straight from the horse's mouth and is enthused):

I – L’Heure Promise (The promised hour): a green iris with petitgrain, fresh herbs, sandalwood and musk.
VI – L’Heure Brillante (The shining hour): a bright aldehydic citrus cocktail with lemon, lime and a gin accord. X – L’Heure Folle (The crazy hour): an aldehydic fruity green with redcurrant, pink pepper, grenadine (pomegranate syrup), blueberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, violet, leafy notes, ivy, boxwood, shiso, polygonum (=knotweed)
XII – L’Heure Mystérieuse (The mysterious hour): a woody floral with jasmine, patchouli, elemi, coriander, incense, olibanum, juniper.
XIII -La Treizième Heure (The 13th hour): a sweet leather with maté tea, birch tar, narcissus, bergamot, patchouli and vanilla.

Portrait of Mathilde Laurent via Basenotes, images4.hiboox.com and luxuryculture, Cartier bottles via punmiris.com

The winners of the draw...

....for the Travalo atomisers are:
Melisand61, AuditDiva, BeautyBitch, Tara, Violetnoir. Congrats!

Please mail me with your shipping address along with the colour of your choice (gold, silver or pink) using the contact email on Profile, so I can forward it to the distributor who will have your prize in the mail soon.

Thanks everyone for playing so nicely and till the next one!

La Prairie Life Threads: fragrance reviews

It's not too often that I do "custom" reviews, and before you get any nasty thoughts (we're an independent blog here!), I mean requests from my readers. I had presented the new trifecta Life Threads by La Prairie (with a little historical comparison as to precious metals and fragrance associations) and emails started flooding my inbox asking me for my opinion on them. After replying to one or two directly, I thought you might all get a kick if I embarked on a more detailed coverage, so here I am.

If you have any modernist streak running through you, the hard-wired and Lucite La Prairie bottles display will recalimbrate your vision on where modern art can appear: Apparently apart from MOMA or The Tate, it can be hosted at your local La Prairie counter too! There was some version of plastic paneling in packaging before, notably in Roberto Cavalli scents (Just Her, Just Him) but it was done in a completely plastic-fantastic "I'm a Barbie Girl" sort of manner that defied good taste really. The La Prairie bottles take those wires and coil them round your neck tightly if you even begin to think that they're cheap: They most assuredly are not and they look ever so much better up close.

The trilogy is set to be a "provocative portfolio of fragrances [that] speaks to the different dimensions of a woman, rich with entanglements, connections and mysteries waiting to be unraveled". Reassuringly, they're not especially provocative, in the degree that you won't be rubbing your eyes "whoa! where did this come from?", however they are all polished, competent compositions that exhibit good intentions.

I was overall most impressed with Silver which is the woody floral in the triumvirate. Expansive and with an engulfing white floral heart (indolic jasmine and lots of creamy tuberose) it radiates with the same razor-sharp pitch over off-the-cholesterol-chart butteriness which Fracas does so well, thanks to the inclusion of peppery and green elements (think spicy vetiver and unidentified mossy notes, probably in synch with the upcoming IFRA44th regularions). Lovers of Tom Ford's Velvet Gardenia might also want to give it a whirl, because it shares the proper mushroom-like ambience of the real blossoms and a butyric character right out of the clotted cream recipes cookbook of Julia Child ("The best time for diet food is while waiting for the steak to get done" ~I can identify with that!). March over at Perfume Posse put it succintcly when testing it: "It was like running errands in a silk peignoir and ostrich mules. It is deeply fabulous, if very much not me, although I kind of want it to be me".

Gold is certainly shaping up to be the crowd-pleaser in the range, as it hits all the right spots for most of the consumers: it starts citrusy (mandarine, but not orchard-rich), is a little sweet (but not tooth-achingly so, an accomplishment), it's a little orientalised (but will not end you being sold in a harem), it's a little spicy (but no uncle Serge peeking through with handfuls of cumin at the ready to be thrown up your nose). The solar notes and the ylang-ylang heart compliment each other well and the solemn, yet warm note of myrrh is infusing the whole. Is a perfume that is programatically set to deny excess in any aspect worth it, you might ask. Well, in some small way it is. I wouldn't pick it as my first choice over other beloved orientals, but to make an analogy, like Yves Saint Laurent's misunderstood Cinéma it's a pleasant example of the genre that shouldn't be ashamed of itself.
Although advertised as an "elegant and edgy chypre" (a category I am especially simpatico to), Platinum didn't grab me, nor did I find it edgy. I hear it is marketed as unisex, which is a novel idea, the other two being so femme focused. There is radiance, but also a little shrill quality about it, which manifests itself in the clash of the cucumber-smelling violet leaves in the opening (this is not sweet powdery violets) with the abstract floral elements and the standard patchouli-vetiver base which we have been smelling to distraction in, oh, just about the majority of the market's share of "modern chypres" in the last 5 years or so. The latter might be the reason why I am not more enthused with the idea, although I can't deny it's a competent example and it does present a miniscule leather facet which is intriguing. I just wish it had been furthered to its full potential!

Somehow the advertising fanned out in three commercial clips seems rather cheesy to me and you can colour me unimpressed on that score ~there's even a song "inspired" by them; sometimes they seem attenuated to the point of ridicule (The heavy nuanced accent on the Platinum one doesn't really help me take this any more seriously, dear advertisers. It's not like you hired Tim Piggot Smith, you know). The stories are "real stories", aiming to provide a romantic subplot to what is a snippet of "life" for the viewers. If the La Prairie audience accustomed to their expensive skincare is fantasizing about such a life (and not already having it) is unbeknowst to me, although I wouldn't hold my breath; it certainly looks a little aspirational to those who probably save scraps for a month in order to be able to afford a pot of their creams. ("I always wanted to leave on top of the world" etc. just before the story turns into the classic "rich lady in search of macho low-class so she can feel like a woman again".) You can watch them all here or on Lifethreads.com. It's interesting to note that although it's French actress-singer Arielle Dombasle who is fronting the fragrances, the commercials so far utilize neither her voice, nor her presence. I wonder why!
The clips come with lots of voice-over. Someone needs to have a cinematic lesson: Voice-over is the surest way to have a par excellence visual medium turn into televised theatre, aka snore-fest ~if you have ever compared a live theater performance with its televised version you know what I'm talking about! It's a pity the designing team didn't work on the advertising as well. But in true cinematic mode "nobody's perfect!"

La Prairie Life Threads: Silver, Gold and Platinum come in Eau de Parfum bottles of 1.7oz/50ml for $125/100 euros at La Prairie counters, Neiman Marcus, Begdorfs and Saks.
Notes etc. on this link.

Photo by Guy Bourdin via queeninheels.com and saopauloegratis.com

Falling in Love~Scents and Treats for Fall

T.S Eliot in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock came up with the immortal line of having "measured out his life with coffee spoons".
Somewhat less arrestingly I have been counting the (academic) years by the new leather-bound notebooks I buy every September, a perpetual student even while lecturing others.

The mixed feelings of new beginnings and the wistfulness of the rainy season produce a compelling crash in me: Perhaps it's merely that I was born in autumn that it holds a special place in my heart. Perhaps it's that autumn is a special season any way, reminding us of our own mortality.



Whatever it is,
"La Petite Fille de la Mer" (Girl of the Sea) by Greek composer Vangelis, captured in this visually beautiful clip titled "Autumn" below, is following me these days.
I accordingly got myself a new bottle of Eau de Monsieur by Annick Goutal to replenish my finished one. It's a criminally underrated fragrance from 1980 which pioneered the use of immortelle back when no one would think of having that fenugreek-like aroma about them. Its sexy, maple & moss over warmed sand dunes, tawny atmosphere reminds me of the passage of summer into winter.
My evening-unwinding scent for when I'm in? Douce Amère by Serge Lutens (click for review), a mix of sweet and bitter like absinth liquor.


And then there are things that easily lend themselves to autumnal thoughts by their very nature. Whenever I catch a glimpse of Andrei Tarkovsky's Zerkalo (The Mirror) I find myself listening to the hush of nature going to sleep. Christopher Brosius' Burning Leaves comes to mind...With a touch of the gently decaying red apples and myrrh incense of Wazamba (review here).



During the day I am fantasizing of striding moors à la Catherine Earnshaw in sturdy and mean boots. I have zeroed on these ones by La Redoute. My black riding boots scent? Chanel Cuir de Russie in extrait de parfum or Doblis by Hermès, baby! (click for reviews)
And of course this calls for a nice cashmere little sweater that can be worn any day and not be cumbersome (we don't get the Yorkshire weather, after all!). This Isle of Skye little number looks perfectly cozy and flattering. I'd like it in charcoal grey and would pair it with just about anything: colourful shirts, print scarfs, jeans, my A-line skirt in pitch black...
My cashmere sweater scent? Barbara Bui Le Parfum and Sonia Rykiel Woman, not for Men! in Eau de Parfum strictly. (Interchangeably, they're quite similar, as you can read here)

In the evenings, as the weather cools progressively, I have been reverting to my comforting Crème Spendide Nuit by Annick Goutal, whose rose essence is perfectly calming while the texture is a dream: Its instant moisturising claim is not misleading. And spraying my surroundings with my latest obsession, Opopanax by Diptyque: If you even remotely like the classic Shalimar by Guerlain, give the Diptyque a whirl. The resinous powdery touch is perfect for centering and I love the elegant bottle.

I was watching Strange Days by Kathryn Bigelow (Cameron's wife for those who don't know her) on TV the other day. 14 years yesterday since its release and it struck me how modern it still looks, how original. (And I still absolutely adore the above song by PJ Harvey.)
In a way we're living snippets of the lives of others through the Internet these days: Their experiences become our collective "Squids" and you're in one of them. So I hope you enjoy the ride and are left with a desire to Playback!

Please visit the following blogs for more thoughts on favorite Fall scents & associations:

The Non Blonde, Under the Cupola, Ayala's Smelly Blog, Savvy Thinker, Olfactarama, Notes from the Ledge, Ars Aromatica, Mossy Loomings, I Smell Therefore I Am, Tea Sympathy and Perfume.


Sepia Tree photo credit: Autumn in Sepia by Rick Lundh (via gallery.photo.net) manipulated by me.

All other photos by Elena Vosnaki (click to enlarge)


Clip October Dream originally uploaded by Shastasheene, Clip from Mirror originally uploaded by unkindrublicrpp, clip of Juliette Louis singing in Strange Days by SanJayaPrimeon Youtube.

Robert Piguet/Raucour Calypso: fragrance review & history

Leafing through mythology books while researching on Nausinous, the son of Ulysses and Calypso the couple appearing in Homer's Odyssey, I cannot help but marvel at the invisible threads that tie history, perfumery and the great imagination of inspired creators such as Robert Piguet. His fragrance Calypso encapsulates the ethereal and yet alluring qualities that the eponymous numph was renowed for in a most refined way.

It is with stupendous surprise that one learns that Rober Piguet, born in the Swiss town of Yverdon in 1901, was originally trained not in fashion but in banking! So much his couturier and creator of stylish fragrances reputation has preceded him among the cognoscenti! A young boy of 17 he moved to the fashion capital of the world, Paris, and landed a job first with Redfern and later with fashion legend Paul Poiret. His industrious and inquisitive spirit resulted in the founding of his own salon in 1933. There he provided Parisian women with his own creations as well as those of alumni Antonio Castillo, Christian Dior, James Galanos, Marc Bohan, Hubert de Givenchy and Pierre Balmain. Although his couture side of the business is largely forgotten apart from the historic scope (he retired in 1951 and died in 1953), his perfume business is very much alive. This is thanks to at once the tremendous fame that his pioneer fragrances Fracas (1946) and Bandit (1944), both by iconoclast perfumer Germaine Cellier, have created, as well as the respectful treatment his compositions have received in the hands of Joe Garces of Fashion Fragrances and Cosmetics Ltd. after a limbo state of the brand while under Alfin inc.

In researching Calypso the fragrance, I tried to find visuals and was aided by my friend Octavian who provided the image herein. On it there is a bottle not unlike the bell-shaped jars of today's Lutens bottles for his Paris-exclusives which bears the name Calypso by Raucour. The brand Raucour is most probably inspired by a personage in French history: Françoise-Marie-Antoinette Saucerotte, nicknamed Mademoiselle Raucourt or Françoise Raucourt, was an anti-Revolutionist tragedian living in the late 18th century France and the Directoire period, famous for her roles as Medea, Semiramis and Agripinna. Could Calypso, the nymph who fell in love with Ulysses/Odysseus and kept him captive on her island for 8 long years following his nostos from Troy, be another one of the roles which would fit her? The tragic quotient of the role, with its clash between the vagaries of the heart on the one hand and the predecided by the Gods fate of Ulysses (namely to return to his home and family) on the other, is not antithetical to her range.
Additionally, her predeliction for aromatic substances in the form of exotic and rare plants such as frangipaniers and baobabs in her Château in La Chapelle Saint-Mesmin lets the imagination roll with fragrant images...

The Renoir company simultaneously produced the perfumes Renoir, Raucour and Piguet while the Piguet trademarks were filled by Renoir during the war. The depicted Calypso from Raucour is in the same bottle and packaging Renoir used for Messager/ Cattleya or Dona Sol (that were also sold later under Raucour brand and credited to Piguet in several guides). This puts an interesting spin into the alleged launch date of 1957 or 1959 for Piguet's Calypso. In those older days aroma-producing companies (the equivalent of today's big boys, aka Givaudan, Firmenich, IFF etc) formulated the jus with less speed. Therefore in light of the above clues, could we assume that Calypso by Raucour and Calypso by Piguet are indeed the same fragrance? If so, the date launch should be pushed in the previous decade, placing it firmly alongside its olfactory "inspirations", more of which shortly, Whatever the truth is, the scent itself is revelational in some respect.

Piguet's Calypso olfactorily reflects the qualities of both spicy floral and green floral facets, resulting in a refined composition that alludes to both L'Air du Temps (its carnation tinged airiness) and Ma Griffe (its green buds on the mountaintop dryness). Calypso's daintily mossy garland is woven into delicate lacework that enhances these themes and in the canon of current Piguet fragrances which impose their presence it presents something of an anomaly. However it is for those occasions exactly that one is advised to look back at the history of a house when pronouncing judgement on terms of aesthetics: The Piguet portfolio included legion of fragrances once upon a time, with some of the lesser known being: Augure, Cattleya, Fou, Dingo (all from 1945), Gambade (1946), Grande Epoque, Rollon, Hirondelle, Brigand, Dark Herald, Donna Sol, Mimo, Esclave (all from 1947), Estampe (1948), and Messanger (1952).

The vintage Calypso by Robert Piguet (not to be confused with the duty-free limited edition by Lancôme by the same name) was originally available in Eau de Toilette strength and extrait de parfum in the standard curvaceous and simple flacons of Piguet and makes sporadic appearences on Ebay. Since Baghari (1945) and Visa (1946) have been re-issued and so have Futur (1974) and the masculine Cravache (1963) recently, to varying approximations to the original formula, let's hope that the marvel that is Calypso is destined for Phoenix-like resurection as well.

Painting of Odysseus and Calypso, 1883 by Arnold Böcklin via faerymists.tripod.com