Amouage Contest: Win Epic bottles and samples!

Courtesy of Extrait.it with which we have a nice rapport, I was honoured to receive news of the contest they have organised after their Christopher Chong interview which I had linked to in the recent past. What is it? Write about the mystery man in the Jubilation videos and enter the contest to win 50 samples of the latest Epic by Amouage while the grand winners (one male, one female) chosen by Christopher Chong himself will receive a bottle of Epic for Men and another of Epic for Women!

"Extrait had the idea of Amouage Perfumes Contest with the purposet to involve all perfume lovers and everyone else in an entertaining "web 2.0 storytelling" inspired by fragrances. This is the starting point of Extrait collaboration with Amouage through Finmark, the brand’s Italian distributor.During the latest years, under the artistic direction of Christopher Chong, the omanian perfumes creator associated a videos set to their fragrances, taking inspiration from the tradition of Arabian Nights. A mysterious man appears in the video of Jubilation, the perfume celebrating the 25th anniversary of Amouage. Realising how many people were curious to discover the identity and the role of the mysterious man, Christopher Chong decided to create a sequel of the story in a video for the launch of a new fragrance scheduled for 2010".

Please find all the details on this page.

NB: Extrait is not affiliated with either Amouage or Finmark, its Italian distributor.

Lancome Magie Noire: fragrance review of the perfect Halloween scent

If there is one perfume which conjures up a devilish sorceress in full-wiccan attire it is none other than Lancôme's splendlidly devilish Magie Noire (pronounced ma-zhee nou-ahr and meaning Black Magic) by perfumer-alchemist Gérard Goupy.

Introduced in 1978, Magie Noire is an ardent scent full of insupportable sensuality which projects with the mysterious force of an evil heroine; having you grip your seat with a mix of justified horror and perverse admiration at the same time! Its heady, unsettling base accord acts like velvet or a caressing fur coat that is hiding a knife, its interlay of all the powerhouses base notes (musk, civet, castoreum) a sign of brandishing its bravado like a protective amulet against all odds.
Not to be confused with the 1949 classic Magie (its bottle reprised in the design of Lancôme recents Hypnôse and Hypnôse Senses), Magie Noire was conceived at the wake of Opium's oriental success which took the market by (olfactory) storm and along with exact contemporary Rochas Mystère presented the gutsy, murky mossy alternatives before ultrasweet orientals elbowed them off the central shelves in the 1980s.
The bottle was designed by Pierre Dinand in the same forbidden territories as Opium too: The inspiration being medieval alchemical alembics this time ~instead of Japanese inros~ and covered with cabbalistic signs standing for bismuth, verdigris, sulphur and gold.

Despite its murky depths of oakmoss and patchouli, nevertheless ~which have several perfumephiliacs designate it to the chypre fragrance family~ Magie Noire technically belongs to the woody oriental one.
Starting with an ammoniac opening, which oscillates between the feline and the human, and progressing into a purple fruity overlay over the darkest gothic roses imaginable, Magie Noire is a journey into a noir story that unfolds with each passing minute with a new twist and a new thorn to grab you. The white florals in its heart are not read as such, rather the verdant and sharp greens present themselves at an angle (galbanum and hyacinth amongst them allied to the leathery pungency of castoreum). The drydown of the fragrance is much softer, deliciously mellower and musky-incensy sensual with a microscopic caramel note that is kept on the skin for days.

The fact that several wearers of the original Magie Noire nowadays find it (catastrophically) changed is no illusion: Lancôme actually reworked the formula of Magie Noire when re-releasing it after its brief discontinuation. The 1980s Eau de Parfum and parfum versions were much edgier and headier with a pronounced spiciness and murkiness that could cut through fog like a beacon. The sillage was unforgettable and typhoon-like in its potency with a sex-appeal-oozing-through-pores vibe that could make you or break you: It was a scent that needed to suit your personality in order to work right and on many it didn't. I recall it worn by women with exquisitely coifed hair which seemed like they braved the elements.
Even in its attenuated form today Magie Noire is definitely not a perfume for young girls, not because perfume has an age, but because like a complex grand cru it requires some getting used to and is an acquired taste. Its distinctiveness lends it a special occasion ambience which it exploits to good effect; it would be both a great waste and a sensory overload to use it all the time. On the contrary, savoured drop by drop, it imbues its wearer with the magical charm of an undestructible protective mantle.

Not only Lancôme changed the formula, they also changed the flacons design from time to time, making it a confusing task for chronologising your bottle. I remember the bottle in the 80s was black, following the one depicted in the ads above, while a maroon version also circulated in the 90s. Recently upon its re-introduction Lancôme simplified the bottle into the columnal solid glass with a metallic-looking top depicted below.

Notes for Lancôme Magie Noire: Bergamot, blackcurrant, hyacinth, raspberry, honey, tuberose, narcissus, jasmine, incense, Bulgarian rose, patchouli, vetiver, castoreum, labdanum, musk and civet.

Magie Noire is available on counters and online priced at $55 USD for a 2.5oz/75ml Eau de Toilette and that's the only version Lancôme currently offers. I wish they'd bring back the parfum! There also was the enigmatic huile parfum (perfume oil) version, reputed to emphasize the greener notes, but I have not tried it (yet) to compare with extrait.

Ads via perfume4u.co.uk and pays.dignois.com. Glass flacon via Lancome.ca. Maroon bottle pic via qb.org.nz. Sorceress illustration via mythicmktg.fileburst

Balenciaga Paris: new fragrance

A while ago we had been thrilled by the choice of Charlotte Gainsbourg, shot by Steven Meisel, as the new face of the upcoming Balenciaga signature women’s scent, due out in February in Europe (March and April for Asia). Called Balenciaga Paris, it is the first fragrance authored by Balenciaga and Coty Inc., a partnership which began in 2008.
“We’ve been basically out of [the fragrance] business for almost 15, 20 years,” said Isabelle Guichot, Balenciaga president and chief executive officer. “It was important for us to wait until the right moment to really express ourselves back in the industry.” "The aim is to make Balenciaga Paris into a new classic", said Ghesquière and something tells me they're eyeing the uber-success of Narciso Rodriguez For Her in that regard, especially in view of the family in which they're positioning their scent, more of which below. The Balenciaga portfolio included excellent, elegant and distinctive scents (right down to the early 80s Michelle), making this a tall order. Despite the relatively restrained distribution (about 2000 doors worldwide) the expectations run to 90 million $ during the first year, so I would assume that the scent should reflect a wide acceptance potential, especially since Nicolas specified they aimed to reach a wider audience than the one they reach with their accessories.

Right off the bat, I should start by saying that regarding any name conflict which one might be thinking is afoot between the new Balecianga Paris and the classic YSL Paris from the 1980s, we shouldn't hold our breath: As discussed with my collaborator AlbertCan, YSL Beaute and Balencianga both belong to PPR (otherwise known as Gucci Group) which makes a legal case nonsensical as the compensation would come out of the same pocket. Additionally according to the Fragrance Foundation and Michael Edwards, YSL registered their own scent as "Paris d'Yves Saint Laurent" so "Balenciaga Paris" is probably marginally different enough to make the cut. YSL is busy promoting their own Parisienne right now, so the more Paris is heard in fragrance names the better. But enough about the name!

Balenciaga's house designer Nicolas Ghesquière took the plunge for the first time in fragrance launching aided by the young but talented perfumer Olivier Polge (Jacques Polge's of Chanel son) of IFF. The idea for the scent was mining on favourite smells Nicolas could think of and then arranging it in the "both artistic and mathematical process" that creating a scent is all about, according to him. His memory banks contained floor wax and flowers (violet and carnation), plus more urban odors, like gasoline, according to Caroline Javoy, group vice president of Balenciaga, Chloé and Jil Sander at Coty.

Ghesquière said he wanted to give the floral fragrance a contemporary “twist” with something urban and slightly “metallic.” Early on, it was decided Balenciaga’s first scent would be in the floral chypre family — specifically, a violet chypre. “Violet has been used in the fragrance industry for years, but normally more for the powdery effect,” said Javoy. “What Olivier did here was use the fresh, natural effect of violet leaves, and what’s new also is that the violet is really at the core of the fragrance.” Polge integrated redistilled woods, such as cedar and patchouli, too. “It is not a romantic floral,” said Ghesquière. “It’s definitely the mix of tradition and something quite contemporary and urban.”

A violet chypre might recall Balmain's Jolie Madame, but I deduce we're not faced with such a deliciously old-fashioned prospect for various reasons having to do with tastes, focus groups et al. A propos the violet discussion, might I remind readers once again that violet as a note bears absolutely no similarity to violet leaves, as both the materials used to render them as well as the olfactory profile of the ingredients and the composed accords have very little relation, if at all. Violet leaves are par excellence used in masculine colognes for their cucumber-like green metallic freshness which shimmers most suavely in Eau de Cartier.




In the ads for Balenciaga Paris, the left-hand color shot is a still life including the fragrance and a column and an egg, architectural and fashion references. In the right-side, black-and-white image, Charlotte Gainsbourg sits on a Spanish patio (alluding to Balenciaga’s place of origin), while the black-and-white marble floor is a nod to the original Balenciaga boutique design in Paris. The pattern of the prism on the bottle itself (alluding to the plinths and portals in Balenciaga boutiques) and the cracked egg effect on the cap (referencing Italian design from the 1980s, 18th-century enameled vases and the graphics of Balenciaga’s vintage fabrics; or a classic football ball, take your pick!) present themselves as vintage touches seen through the porthole of a modern creation.

“White and ivory are two strong Balenciaga colors,” said Ghesquière. “I wanted this fragrance to be a little character. It has a head, a neckline and a body.” Balenciaga Paris’ streamlined outer packaging harkens back to the brand’s vintage boxes for fragrances (largely out of distribution), such as Le Dix.

In France, the 30-ml. eau de parfum spray will sell for 57 euros, or $84.45; the 50-ml. eau de parfum, for 75 euros, or $111.15, and the 75-ml. eau de parfum, for 94 euros, or $139.25. Ancillaries include a 200-ml. shower gel and a 200-ml. body lotion, for 37 euros and 40 euros, or $54.80 and $59.25, respectively.

Quotes & bottle pic from "Balenciaga Returns to the Fragrance Game" article by Jennifer Weil on WWD. Ad from the Spring 2009 fashions through fashionista.com

Naomi Campbell raises a stink?

The famous supermodel is accused of cutting her longtime associates out of their profits share in her eponymous celebrity scents brand.

"Moodform Mission is a partnership of Campbell's former London modeling agents and a cosmetics outfit based in Miami Beach, Fla. The firm worked for years _ even designing the perfume bottles _ to line up a 1998 fragrance deal for Campbell with a German company that later became part of Procter & Gamble Co., said Moodform Mission lawyer Daniel R. Bright.[..]The lawsuit, filed late Monday, said Campbell violated a 1998 contract with Moodform Mission by inking a new fragrance-licensing agreement, costing the company a portion of the proceeds from such scents as Naomi Campbell, Cat Deluxe and Seductive Elixir." [source and reproduced] The reputation of Naomi Campbell for fiesty episodes enters the equation in both articles, despite it having nothing to do with legal actions. Campbell herself is confident of winning the case. It remains to be seen.

Pic of Naomi Campbell via blog.singersroom.com

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

Amidst the fragrances that Gabrielle Bonheur (Coco) Chanel commisioned, No.46 stands as something of a largely unknown enigma. When Ernest Beaux had presented samples to Coco for her choosing for her first perfume launch, he had prepared 10 of them in total, numbered from 1 to 5 and from 20 to 24. Among them, No.5 and No.22 were the winning contestants, issued on 1921 and 1922 respectively. Fragrances so elevated by the diffusion of their aldehydic pitch that they became synonymous with the genre forever after. A little on their left, the refined, gracefully soft aldehydic floral which was released much later; in 1946, at the end of the war. No.46 recalls most vividly the ambience of the classic No.5 that cemented the popularity of futuristic, "frozen" bouquets, while remaining surrounded by other obscure scents with digits on them like fairy godmothers: No.11, No.14, No.20, No.21 and No.55...



The timing for the release of No.46 is crucial in its critical appraisal and its positioning in fragrance history. Despite the fashion genius of Chanel being “incorruptibly sober and pure”, as per her biographer Edmonde Charles-Roux, her life presented certain disputable facets that cast a shadow on the image of the "women's liberator from fashion's oppression" and Evangelist of Style. (Even today, Audrey Tautou who impersonated her in the 2009 film Coco avant Chanel mentioned this early feminist "manifesto" as grounds for accepting the role.) Coco had been self-exiled in Switzerland since 1945, her perfume royalties into exile with her for a decade as well, following the tempestuous reception that accompanied her affair with Hans Gunther von Dincklage; a German officer 13 years her junior ~she was 56 at the time~ and alleged Nazi spy by the nickname "the sparrow", who had arranged for her to remain at the famous Ritz Hotel suite which Coco had made into her wartime abode (and her "real" home for 3 decades, as opposed to her Rue Cambon appartment where she received guests). Additionally, the dubious Operation Modelhut, in which she was implicated, was based on the idea that one of Chanel's friends would pass a letter from her, suggesting secret negotiations furthering the end of war, to Winston Churchill.

“This woman was referred to as a person Churchill knew sufficiently to undertake political negations with him, as an enemy of Russia and as desirous of helping France and Germany whose destinies she believed to be closely linked together.” [according to the Schellenberg interrogation transcripts]

Yet unlike women collaborators who had had their hair shorn in public humiliations or Diana Mitford, Lady Mosley (Hitler's Angel) and Unity (Valkyrie) Mitford, forever associated with the Third Reich, Coco Chanel remained untarnished by repercussions (she was arrested but soon released). No doubt she had taken advantage of her connections, as was her custom: It was a rich boyfriend who helped her open her own clothing boutique in 1913; it was Vera Bate Lombardi who established her name amongst European royalty and through which she met ~her almost husband~ the Duke of Westminster and who possibly served as the connection to Churchill; and it was one of her unnamed powerful liaisons who made if possible for her to escape punishment or humiliation for her past.
The cool reception that the French reserved for her 1956 runway comeback terming it obsolete neverthless was testament to how they hadn't forgotten... Luckily for her, however, it was the Anglosaxons (in the guise of Americans mostly) who loved her little black dresses (they still do!) and thus helped her progressively obliterate the bad memories.

It was during those troubled years of WWII that Chanel had tried to wrest control of her fragrances from the Jewish manufacturers ~the Wertheimer family who own them to this day and also controlled Bourjois~ exploiting the pro-Aryan laws to her benefit. (The Wertheimers owned 70% of the house, Theodile Bader of Galleries Lafayette who introduced Coco to them was rewarded with 20% and Chanel herself only held 10%). As a result, the perfumes conceived in the time frame surrounding WWII are rumoured to generally have a striking resemblance to her already successful 20s and 30s creations, probably in an attempt to reposition herself in the fragrance producing pantheon as an independent entity. Little is known of them, but the time framing bears significance as in 1954 the Wetheimers came to an agreement with Chanel for her to reliquinsh all control to them in exchange for having her personal expenses taken care of for life (It took 17 years).

The way that a little No.46 came into my hands is episodic and worthy of recounting à la Lafontaine: Once upon a time, (then) Florentine-bound Liisa Wennervirta had come across and purchased a full stoppered bottle of said perfume on an auction site, about which she asked my opinion and info after the fact. Certain details had been negatively indicative to its authenticity (or so I thought at the time) and the cynical/distrustful in me sighed a bit inwardly (I repeat this was after the fact) because I really like Liisa, had followed the scandals by Polkadot Patty a couple of years ago and would really flinch if she had been scammed. On the other hand, if it was a fake I would be supremely curious to see how someone would venture into even attempting it and would admire his/her serious cojones despite my disgust at the practice. Liisa sent me some to try out and it transpired that it was against all odds seriously delightful juice!
As Liisa herself said: "It's not that grandma-style rose like Penhaligon's Elizabethan Rose, nor that sweet, slightly sickening rose of Nahema or Mahora in extrait version, it's warm, spicy, carnation-y and slightly reminds me of Fleur de Feu but after a while it mellows to sweet musky calmness. Something that I badly miss among Les Exclusifs."

The opening of Chanel No.46 boldly reveals the penchant of the brand into producing abstractions of an arresting grace. It is redolent of the ambience of No.5 quite vividly, to the point that a lover of one might instantly recognise sub-themes in the structure of the other, like a student of baroque fugues recognising the intermingling motifs across several bars of music. At the time however No.5 hadn't acquired the cult status it has today being instantly recognisable across continents. The basic chord which echoes throughout No.46 seems to be the rose, ylang-ylang, carnation/lily (a hint of spice) and musks (two parts of this harmony form the main basso continuo of No.5, anyway, especially in vintage parfum form and the defunct Eau de Cologne version). This is underscored by a soapy-mossy feeling that recalls retro grooming products to my memory. The musks are especially rich and radiant, emitting warmth and a subtle come-hither.

In its way, Chanel No.46 is firmly placed in the tradition of its times too, while echoing an established success: Smelling it alongside L'Air du Temps (1948) (its carnation tinge plus aldehydic-salicylate facets), the more orientalised Fath de Fath (the original 1953 version, not the 1993 reformulation) with its intensely musky base, or the delicate bouquet of Coeur Joie by Nina Ricci (1946), one is not hard-pressed to understand the greater need for fragrances that presented a refined and genteel ambience of ladies who eased back into their feminine endeavours after the more androgynous occupations of the war days. All without eschewing their animal instincts...

Notes for Chanel No.46:
Top: bergamot, orange and neroli
Heart: rose, lily of the valey, ylang-ylang and jasmine
Base: vetiver, orris, sandalwood, coumarine, vanilla and musk

Needless to say, it's a very rare fragrance and your only chance for a bottle would be buying off a collector.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Chanel reviews & news, Vintage scents

Pic of No.46 by Liisa Werenvita used with permission by Perfume Shrine. Photo of Gabrielle Chanel in 1909 scanned from Edmonde Charles Roux book 2004, p.62. Photo of Diana and Unity Mitford saluting the Nazi way via wikimedia commons.