Dior J'Adore: fragrance review & J'Adore Versions (L'Eau Cologne Florale, J'Adore L'Absolut, J'Adore L'Or) on the Market

Accessing the popularity stakes and artistic success of a bestseller is never an easy thing. Perhaps it's the competitors who speak most frankly about its cachet: As Thierry Wasser, head perfumer at Guerlain at the moment, revealed in an interview on Swiss television, "Every one of us wants to make the next J'Adore!"
The aphorism ~on a fragrance with a name that means "I LOVE it!"~ was meant to convey the ubiquitousness of the scent, its staggering approval by consumers from young to old. Such ubiquitousness in fact that its commercial's televised air-time 10 years after its introduction in 1999 has raised questions on a popular perfume forum about the reasons behind it!

The makings of a best-seller
You see, gone are the days of Chanel No.5 when commercials were running for the same scent for decades: Today the fast-paced churning out of fragrances means that the bombarding with advertising images changes dramatically from season to season with the latest and the glossiest catching page after page and air-minute after air-minute in an attempt to lure us into the Great New Thing. Alas, so very few times they deliver. Yet there is no question about Christian Dior's fragrance enduring presence in both the media and ~what's more important~ on the dressers and the bodies of countless women on the planet: Yes, by that token Dior's J'Adore is a modern classic!

Stating such a claim makes eyebrows raise on perfumistas' foreheads, accustomed as they are to the exclusive, the arcane, the unattainable or alternatively the vintage, the classic and the ultra-rare. But the beauty of perfumery is that one doesn't need to go up digging for Alexander the Great's grave (a task several worthy people have been unsuccessful at, its location forever unknown); one can find a good thing even almost on their doorstep (or in this case their local Sephora) and like Alexander's golden locks it is gilded and shiny with its "giraffe women" necklaces around the stem of the bottle and screaming with every drop of its jus "I'm covetable". A gorgeous face in Charlize Theron's shoes strutting her statuesque shape is challenging ~but also promising to~ every woman to become a living goddess! "Woman is an idol, and must be adorned to be adored," wrote Charles Baudelaire and Dior was quick to snatch the immortal line for their own purposes.

Pinkification: more to it than meets the eye

J'Adore (pronounced Za-DORH) clout however took an unexpected and fascinating path to form. Back in 1999 the fruity floral vogue was just catching on, as consumers tired of the acquatics and ozonics of the 90s and of the realisation that the dot com prodigies were not something to sustain the economy as foretold were searching for a little girliness, a little pinkiness ~even a reversion to the mental age of Barbie some would say! (and who can blame them in retrospect?) A recent article at The Guardian talks about the pinkification of our culture where beauty "gurus" emote in exalted girly-tones that could shutter crystal and have you screaming up the walls with devious and not so devious plans on assassinating the perpatrators of those auditory crimes. (parodies abound, so not all hope is foresaken). The cultural background of this phenomenon is vaster than the scope of those pages, yet a fragrance such as J'Adore managed to come aboard at the exact time when the wave of girlishness was gaining momentum. And we have to grugingly admit: Among all the girly fruity florals, J'Adore actually manages to inject a little womanly touch there too: It's not completely air-headed!
In Dior's portfolio it is something of a chasm, a no man's land where the classics (Miss Dior, Diorissimo, Eau Fraiche, Diorama, Diorling, Diorella, Dior-Dior and Dioressence) along with the established (Dune, Poison and some of the latter's flankers) veered off in favour of the modern specimens which are targeted to a different audience (Addict, Addict Shine, Forever and Ever etc.).

In a way J'Adore was the catalyst which ushered the pounding thumb of fruity florals not only chez Dior but along the widths and the breadths of the feminine fragrance market. Calice Becker, the perfumer behind J'Adore, is famous for her symphonic yet non-obese florals. Essentially linear, J'Adore begins and ends on a complicated yet quite fresh bouquet that oscillates between the velvety sheen of orchids and champaca with their sensuous air and the fruitier elements of rich plum, sprinkled with droplets of sweet citrus fruit, hints of greenery and a soupçon of violet & rose coquetry (ionones). The whole is underscored by cassis (a synthetic base very popular in the 80s, also used in Poême with which it shares an indefiniable vibe) with subtle woods. The longer the perfume stays on the more it projects that latter element. The eau de parfum's tenacity is indeed phenomenal and it manages to radiate even from the blotter for a while.

And when all is said and done, it smells nice. I wouldn't trail the Himalayan Route for it like I would with other fragrances and it's a little too sweet and ubiquitous for my personal tastes, but it's a round, feminine scent that attracts compliments. Think about how women have passed you by at the street, your nostrils quivered at their scent and you almost murmured j'adore....

Notes for Christian Dior J'Adore: Mandarin, champaca flowers, ivy, African orchid, rose, violet, Damascus plum, amaranth wood, blackberry musk

Dior J'Adore Special Editions and Flankers
The face of J'adore was initially Esthonian beauty Carmen Kaas, but it was Hollywood star Charlize Theron who really "clicked" and gave J'Adore an immense visual advantage.

J'Adore is available at every Dior counter everywhere, available in the following versions/flankers:

1) the original J'Adore Eau de Parfum concentration (1999) in the golden toned bottle depicted in the ads and reviewed above

2) the lighter and less plummy J'Adore Eau de Toilette (2002)  in the silvery-toned design (pictured on the right). In 2011 the eau de toilette concentration was re-orchestrated (due to changes in perfumery regulations) by Francois Demachy, giving it a sweeter and fresher appeal, and repackaged in the gold scheme packaging and presentation, only differentiated from the EDP by the notification on the packaging.

3) the magnificent, limited (and costlier) edition of J'Adore L'Absolu  (2007) a delightfully intense version of the classic favorite with Turkish rose, tuberose, and jasmine combine to make a truly pretty floral" (Eau de Parfum Absolute, created by Francois Demachy). A superior version of the formula, developed by Francois Demachy with premium floral essences.

4) the J'Adore L' Eau Cologne Florale  2009 (the bottle is in golden tones, but a little more slender), which reprises the floral theme with touches of lemony magnolia to render a very current modernisation of the brand. The range is complimented with ancilary body products and is often augmented with special editions that reprise the design of the bottle.

5) J'Adore L'Or is a essence de parfum edition launched in 2010 with the neck of the bottle in thin gold threads and the same amphora style body, available only in 40ml. It's an amped up and more expensive version of the eau de parfum with sweeter and headier florals and a more lasting and very perceptible vanilla base.

6) A limited edition from 2007 highlighting the jasmine note is J'Adore Le Jasmin, available in 100ml of alcohol-free eau de toilette for the summer. Longer, leaner amphora bottle, but otherwise same, with a box reading "summer fragrance" underneath the name. Not to be confused with the 2004 summer fragrance, which is encased in the familiar bottle that holds EDT or EDP, with the only difference being marked in the box ('summer fragrance').

The following limited editions are only different in the bottle presentation or visuals and do not bear a difference in the scent itself.
Special limited "anniversary" editions of J'Adore en Or come from 2004 and 2009 (for the 5 and 10 years of the market respectively); the former with curved drawn "lines" on the upper body of the matte gold bottle, the latter with a golden medallion with the initials CD hanging on a thread on the transparent glass familiar amphora-shaped body. A shimmery version called J'Adore Divinement d'Or (Gold Supreme) was issued in 2006 with gold shimmer suspended in the juice.

Photo by JeffWestboorke, pics via it's all about life blog

The Circle: The Sea Shore's Flower

Most Christmas stories begin with sleighs and carols, Santa's little helpers and children's gifts, but mine does not. Instead, as befits the soil on which I am stationed, it mingles the salt of the sea, the cold wind of its tempests, the spirits of the past lurking, the Pleiades casting their faint light over the water in the depth of its nights and the glimmer of hope upon the approaching traveller's return.

Many Christmases ago, I happened to be sent to my uncle and aunt's summer house on a tiny, remote island off the shores of the monastery community of Mount Athos, Greece. My parents needed to travel to Europe and my imagination was piqued by the countryside which I hadn't seen in its December glory; rampant and wild, moor-ish almost, the sea salt mines shinning in the fangled sun from afar like a blanket of edible snow. Days were short and evenings were spent at the glimmer of the petrol-filled lamp, electricity not yet provided to the tiny island, ears perking up at the melancholy wailing of the dolphins streaming up the seaways at night. The logs in the fire were crackling merrily, telling their own tales of harvest and honest toil: olive-tree wood, chopped up in big rough chunks, its resinous, oligeanous essence perforating my memory with the sense of being at one with the silent nature around, its aroma the very essence of Greek history.

It was customary at the time for children to read Christmas stories by Alexander Papadiamantis(1851-1911); a Greek Dostoyevsky with shades of Edgar Allan Poe and Charles Dickens thrown in, if only for his mysterious nuances, his predeliction for the less proviliged in life and his industriousness in turning out a new story for Christmas, Carnival and Easter every year. Those stories were filled with predicaments, premonitions, organically lived Orthodoxy and humble triumphs; those last often of a spiritual rather than a physical dimension. In one of them, The Sea-shore's Flower, unravelled on his native island of Skiathos, he occupied himself with the village's fool, a young innocent man who was seeing visions in the night. That kind of person is called ελαφροισκιωτος in Greek: person with a "short" shadow. In one of those repeated visions whilst on night-fishing on the boat, the youth was seeing a bright light over the sea-shore's edge in the shape of a flower. As the story progressed, we learn that the light reflects the tale of a local girl, named Flower, who was waiting for years for her beloved, a foreign seaman, to come back from his wars with the barbarians and marry her on Christmas Day; only to find out that her man had been captured in the interim and died in slavery. For ever since, every Christmas Eve the light can be seen on the night sky, its flickering the soul of the seaman withering in the heavy bondage of slavery, far away from his beloved, and only men with a clear soul could see it...

Such was the story's impact that I found my childish self seeking to find out outlines of starry designs on the pitch-black sky, the flower of the sea-shore mingling in my mind with the Star of Bethleem we had been taught about at school; the crushed love of one person versus the uniting love that was incarnated for all. And it dawned on me that perhaps one of the most precious elements which we bid farewell so soon, eager to shed its perceived obstacles, is our innocence. The innocence that had allowed us to believe in Santa Claus as children (suspension of disbelief, if you prefer); the innocence that had us all excited over holidays instead of moaning and groaning over the sheer torture that is the holiday shopping, cleaning, preparing and arranging everything into place. The innocence that allowed us to give, rather than receive, often from the very things we lacked instead of possessed, in order to make someone happy on these holy days.

Upon my parents' return I didn't see the Sea-shore's Flower, although my excitement was so palpable as I unpackaged my gifts and spent the Christmas day with all the family that I could have easily seen visions of reindeers on the sky raining packages through the smoking chimney. I haven't seen it, ever. I doubt I ever will. And every day I pine for the lost innocence of that childhood, which was the only time when one can truly feel like Christmas.


With this story I am participating in The Circle, an Advent collaboration beginning on November 29 and ending on Christmas Day on which various perfume writers and artists, led by Roxana Villa, natural perfumery artist, are writing something special for each day. Please don't forget to enjoy all the participants' writing by clicking this link.

The story The Sea Shore's Flower by Alexander Papadiamantis can be read in Greek on this link. Painting Ship under the Moonlight by Greek painter Konstantinos Volanakis via Un Petit Bateau III

Guerlain Attrape Coeur is Shot Through the Heart!

Shocking news have come to our ears about one of the most popular and well-loved fragrances in the Guerlain stable: Attrape-Coeur, the Parisiennes fragrance by Mathilde Laurent that followed its predecessors Guet Apens and No.68 will be no more...The scent is getting discontinued!!

The information has just been confirmed by two different sources and leaves little doubt that there is a serious reason behind its production stalling. As Sylvaine Delacourte had revealed to us last June, there is a desire NOT to "assasinate" fragrances which are considered perfectly-made with the renovations necessitated to conform to today's standards (IFRA restrictions etc). Attrape Coeur fell into its own hearty snare, apparently, so you'd be advised to stock up if your life or pleasure (equally important) depends on it.

Many fragrances in the Les Parisiennes have been recently chopped off the block, including Liu (in the forseeable future I'm told), Metalys, Purple Fantasy, Chant d'Aromes in pure parfum and Plus Que Jamais. The upcoming restrictions along with slow sales in a few cases have contributed synergistically into losing some of the most lovely Jean Paul Guerlain creations which were commemorated for modern audiences in a line that was noted for its elegance.

Bid Attrape Coeur adieu with a little tear in your eye and clutch on dearly to what you have! If there is any new development I will keep you posted.

Painting by Tildine Attrape Coeurs via tildine.artblog.fr

Christmas '09 Gift Ideas: Last Minute Gifts

The more organised amongst you have already thought out of suitable Christmas Gifts for all your eventualities. If you have been following our Christmas '09 Gift Ideas articles you are all set on great scented trinkets. But there are a few more that are worthy of note and can be bought at the nick of time, to offer at the hostess where you're invited for Christmas dinner or on New Year's Eve, to be the perfect little stocking stuffers, as well as pamepring for yourself or someone close to you.

Ayala Moriel Mini : Cute as a button and sweet as a treat, this mini splash bottle is the perfect size to sneak into a stocking, a pocket or a purse... Yet large enough to contain 4ml (1/8oz) of pure perfume bliss! Ayala Moriel, the talented Vancouver indie naturals perfumer, wants everyone on your list to have a scent to call their own this holiday season, yet without blowing up your budget - the Ayala Moriel Mini is therefore only $35 and comes in a cute jewelry box bow-tied with a satin ribbon, ready for gift-giving. All you need to do is pick your scent! Visit Ayala Moriel Parfums: http://www.ayalamoriel.com/

Caron needs no introduction: Their fabulously French chic perfumes have written their own history. For Christmas there is the ultimate glove-fitting scent ~Nuit de Noël (Christmas Night). Created in 1922 by founder Ernest Daltroff, Nuit de Noël is a chypre in structure, with a citrus top and oakmoss base, yet the feeling is of an orientalised bottom with sandalwood and vanilla with darkness creeping at the corners. Rose, jasmine, ylang-ylang, orris root, and precious woods with a sprinkling of spicy cinnamon mingle in its heart along with an overdose of the mysterious Mousse de Saxe "base" (an accord which contains geranium, licorice, leather, iodine and vanillin and which characterises many of the classic Caron scents). Roja Dove, the perfumery head of Urban Retreat at Harrods, saves it to wear every Christmas night. Why don't you try it for this time of the year too?

Indian Song candle (Amouage) The luxury fragrance brand from the Sultanate of Oman also proposes elegant candles. This one offers an oriental trail of exotic woods, ginger, cumin, vanilla and sweet-scented flowers.www.amouage.com/boutique

Infusion d’Iris candle (Prada) This luxurious white candle engraved with the Prada logo reveals a very gentle balsamy-iris fragrance that will thrill fans of Infusion d’Iris and Infusion d’Homme.www.prada.com/fragrances

Roxana Illuminated Perfume: Support the handmade, the arts and an agricultural based industry while gift giving this season. Be part of the change you want to see in the world. Natural botanical perfume is a necessary luxury, most especially during dynamic times. In this age of synthetic chemicals, large corporate structures and computers, botanical perfume offers an escape into the wilderness of nature.
Now through Thursday December 31st receive 15% discount on any order over $25, excluding jewelry at the Illuminated Perfume shop at Etsy. Enter the code word "PURPLE" upon checking out. Read more about the special under the heading Coupons in the shop policy section.


Paul Smith Man candle (Paul Smith) Men CAN like candles, if they look solid, no frills and functional and if they accompany a nice bottle of something drinkable in there too (Tuck this into a basket with home delights). Iris, violet, tonka bean, patchouli, frankincense… the composition follows latest Paul Smith fragrance. Limited edition, available online only.http://www.paulsmith.co.uk/

Elixir candle (Penhaligon’s) The classic British brand has a candle to match their fragrance Elixir: warm wisps of spices, frankincense, balms, woods and more. http://www.penhaligons.co.uk/

Candied Rose candle (L’Occitane) A limited-edition candle to give the subtle scent of sweet petals around the house, in longing for spring. Also delicious? The brand’s Sweet Cherry and Delicious Almond candles.http://www.occitane.com/

Eau de Jade candle (Armani Privé) In its dark wooden candleholder, this candle recreates the refreshing charm of the fragrance Eau de Jade. Featuring Calabrian bergamot adorned with accents of neroli, pepper and vanilla. http://www.giorgioarmanibeauty.com/

Pics & notes via official sites, some pics via ebay

Musk Series 1: A Cultural Perception of Musk

Guy de Maupassant notes in Bel Ami:

"The old woman in her turn kissed her daughter-in-law with hostile reserve. No, this was not the daughter-in-law of her dreams; the plumb, fresh housewife, rosy-cheeked like an apple and round like a brood mare. She looked like a hussy, the fine lady with her furbelows and her musk. For the old girl all perfumes were musk."

In another story (One Evening) Maupassant attributes rather different connotations to musk:

"As for me, I was moved and powerfully interested, and in the darkness I could see that little woman, that little, fair, lively, artful woman, as if I had known her personally. I saw her selling her books, talking with the men whom her childish ways attracted, and in her delicate, doll-like head, I could see little crafty ideas, silly ideas, the dreams which a milliner smelling of musk attached to all heroes of romantic adventures".

Musk weaves its thick, ensnaring plot to even grace French roads with its sonorous name. In Greek the term "musk" is called μόσχος (MOS-chos) and it denotes (in both noun and verb form) any delightful aroma, from culinary to personal!
For all its rich history and ubiquity to the vernacular, musk remains a great mystery making even perfume lovers exasperate on its multiple facets and shady nature. Some, daunted by the odorant's sheer animal nature in some compositions such as Muscs Kublai Khan by Serge Lutens, reference "Post-coital genitals", "Caligula's couch", "balls' sweat", "the armpit of a camel driver who has not been near running water in a week" (the latter by Tania Sanchez in her early MUA days) and other highly entertaining descriptors. Kiehl's Original Musk, "wears its seductive intent on its sleeve" and Musc Ravageur tries to say it all at hello.
Those musks are generally termed "dirty" or "animalic musks", even "skanky" (both in reference to the little critter and the vulgar ladies thus called) in perfume-community-lingo; they tend to reflect the intimate aura of private parts and private acts and if you have any apprehension to smells that might offend your workplace or your conservative entourage, you might give them a miss. Nevertheless to a whole bunch of enthusiasts ~myself among them~ the smell is fur-like, cozy, intimate and transcedentaly primal. Not sweaty or fecal exactly, yet with a "lived-in" quality which is inescapeably delicious.

A vast array of different musks, termed "clean musks", are available for exploring for anyone afraid of the former, their scent often reminiscent of fabric softener, your laundry detergent or even shampoo and refined body powder. Serge Lutens has the polar opposite to Muscs Kublai Khan in Clair de Musc. Some of them often take the guise of "white musk", a code-name to signify a lightly floral musk "base", The Body Shop's White Musk being the most famous example. A reviewer at Fragrantica referring to Alyssa Ashley Musk (1969) notes:

"My perception of AA Musk is a very babylike, milky, powderish scent, completely non-defined by certain age or sex or the consumer."

Perfect Veil by Creative Scentualisation, a combo of citrus, vanilla, sandalwood and musk, is termed "a casual, clean-smelling-skin scent" on Makeup Alley, a huge review site. Noa with its sparse formula is "fit for virgins and nuns" per Susan Irvine, a sentiment due to the transparent laundry-day white musks at its base. Allesandro del'Aqua and Helmut Lang make for a fascinating study in musk in their respective eponymous creations.
In some cases musks in a well-rounded composition manage to smell at once dirty and clean, like a human being in various stages of disarray. Such is the case with Chanel No.5: Its intense accord of ylang-ylang and musk, boosted by the soapy ppssshht of aldehydes (a group of predominantly synthetics that were used extensively in soaps and go well with musks) along with classical rose-jasmine, is the very core of sexy. Modern musky florals with woody bases such as Narciso For Her and Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker utilize a cooler sensation, but with the same duality inherent. Imagine your dog and its own musky odor: Doesn't its true essence come out when just out of the shower?
But, herein lies the question, like a savvy member on Perfume of Life asked recently: "how on earth did musk, a term derived from the Sanskrit word for "testicles" because of its origins, come to be associated with cleanliness?"
What is musk in terms of smell and what accounts for its varied perception?
Musk of course originates from the Sanskrit muṣká meaning "testicle," coming as it did from the genital glands of the Musk Deer (moschus moschiferus); two pouches were extracted from the animal through cruel methods that resulted in its demise and the subsequent banning of the practice. The precious pods were opened to exude their aromatic effluvium, worth twice its weight in gold, and used as a powerful fixative and enhancer in perfumes & incense since antiquity. Musk odorants as a group however include glandular secretions from other animals as well, numerous plants emitting similar fragrances (ambrette seed being the most popular, highlighted beautifully in Musc Nomade by Isabelle Doyen for Goutal; also rosa moschata), and artificial substances with similar odors synthesized in the lab. But what perfumers refer to as "musk" is in realityits odorous principle, muscone (or muskone), or 3-methylcyclopentadecanone. Its chemical structure was first analysed by Lavoslav Ružička: Muscone is a 15-membered ring ketone with one methyl substituent in the 3rd position.

Still the fascinating reality is that human "reading" of musks differs widely. What is nectar to one can be anathema to another! Cast your mind back to Napoléon and Joséphine de Beauharnais: At the Directoire period the vogue for animalics (civet, musk, castoreum and ambergris) had given way to a new freshness, ushered in by the Revolution which stigmatised the "dirty" aromatics in relation to the decadent aristocrats who were guilotined. Only a defying elite, the Incroyables and Merveilleuses hung on to them, extravagant in style, wanting to emulate classical antiquity: Their nickname became les muscadins! Napoléon loathed musk and prefered to douse himself in Eau de Cologne and rosemary essence dilutions. His women, he preferred them in violets. The scorned Joséphine in an act of cunning revenge, when she was bypassed for another woman, doused her walls at Malmaison with her favourite musk essence, making her presence painfully unforgetable. Rumour had it that a hundred years later the scent was still perceptible! The Arabs knew a thing or two of musk's tremendous lasting power when they used crushed musk and rose in the mortar of their mosques so that the buildings would exude aromatic delight when warmed by the sun. But why the different reaction to musks?

The answer is twofold: Biological and psychological/cultural. In humans, odor perception phenotypes (MSHM1 and MSHM2) often account for specific hyperosmias (a heightened perception of odorants), the best studied examples being to musk and the sweaty odorant isovaleric acid. A great explanation why one's body odour might be inoffensive to one yet very repulsive/potent to another! Recent reseach going against established biology is that musk perception and sensitivity to it does not variate according to a woman's menstrual cycle like with some other odorants. Le Magnen in 1952 working with a dilution of Exaltolide (a synthetic musk) had found that women had significantly lower thresholds for it than men, 50% of the latter having difficulty in smelling it per se [1]
On the other hand, musk components (both natural and synthesized) are by their very nature very large molecules, bordeline undetactable due to that fact, making a large segment of the population anosmic (i.e.odor-blind) to some or other type. This is usually addressed by the perfume industry by employing an eventaille of various musk components of different molecular weights, so that if one doesn't click on the brain's receptor, another will. The most common anosmias are towards Androstenone (a sex pheromone possessing a musky facet) and Galaxolide (a very common synthetic "clean" musk), while there seems to be evidence of recessive inheritance for pentadecalactone sensitivity in humans; the inability to smell musk behaves as a recessive autosomal trait in a study of families.

The perception of any odorant however has to do with CONTEXT, as proven by the associations of wintergreen in the US vs the UK, "beach" scents and household products in different cultures. Ergo, it's largely cultural rather than biological. Real musk (the best is Tonquin) from musk deer has a rather urinous smell in itself with pungent, borderline fecal tonalities in its raw state, NOTHING like what you encounter in perfumes termed "musk" (even by top brands). Yet diluted and mixed with floral essences (try it with rose) it becomes a warm underground murmur of intimacy. A caress...
Historically, musk synthetics were used en masse in detergents and fabric softeners, roughly at the middle of the 20th century and onwards, to mask the more displeasing chemical nuances, due to their superb hydrophobic properties (ie. musks didn't wash off) and their low price (they were synthesized on the cheap). Thus the association of the "warm" smell of clean clothes out of the washing-machine as well as the lingering smell on the clothes themselves became an association with cleanness itself! That warm "cotton" feel you like in clean laundry? Musks! Funny for a product that initially signified the glandular secretion of a rutting deer's improper parts, isn't it? There is a pleiad of synthetic musk ingredients in the market, not just one or two types (on which we will revert in detail) and therefore there is no blanket term or description for them (not even "white musk" is sufficiently accurate), as every one of those molecules has a different olfactory profile: some smel "cleaner" like dryer sheets, some more metallic, some powdery even, others still with a fruity overlay, some have a vegetal or animalic quality. Hence the confusion of the consumer, who doesn't know what to expect from a "musky" fragrance (or reporting liking some in certain fragrances and detesting others to their puzzlement).

The popularity of said scented products led to the introduction of those functional musk notes in fine fragrance: The increasingly lower percentage of real natural musk in them, resulted in a paloply of "musks" which approximated the feeling of musk rather than the smell itself. Such musks were popular in the 70s especially (following the hippy movement, as a natural progression). The "dirty" association that several Baby Boomers have with musk is not exactly related to musk itself: Talking with American independent perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, she intelligently proposed that often the association is to the dense patchouli-clouds and unwashed parts (body odor) of the hippies of their youth, as the (incidental) added layer of musk oil was par for the course for the Woodstock era and beyond. The 1970s musks tagged their product with animal magnetism: "It's what attracts!" proclaimed a Jovan advertisement progressing well into the 80s and 90s.

Functional fragrance musks were incorporated in several other types of products as the years passed: soaps, shampoos, powders, deodorants, you name it! 99% of fine fragrances today contain some type of synthetic musk to anchor notes down, especially now that the other animalics are absent; this happens whether the note is "perceived" as musk or not and regardless of being stated as a note or not in the official descriptions. Since most of them fall under the "clean musks" umbrella ~and what's more under a screechy variant of them on top~, we can expect that generation Y will have no mental associations with any of the "skanky" musks and will come to regard the symbol (musk) as the collateral signification (laundry day) rather than the primal one (animal magnetism). The most interesting mental path of them all, nevertheless, is how the companies have incorporated the latter illusion in their ad copy without including the scent of it at all, rather opting for the equivalent of a line of warm cottons drying in the breeze. "Clean musks" are marketed as attractants, as powerful aphrodisiacs, as sexually inviting, thus equating "clean" with sexy! In a culture where personal grooming is a trillion dollar business it somehow logically follows.

Perhaps it was Charles Baudelaire who saw the duality of musk best: fresh yet intimate, and dedicated it to his "dearest, fairest woman" in his Hymn in Fleurs du Mal: "Sachet, ever fresh, that perfumes the atmosphere of a dear nook; Forgotten censer smoldering secretly through the night; Everlasting love, how can I Describe you truthfully? Grain of musk that lies unseen, in the depths of my eternity."[2]


[1]D.M.Stoddart, The scented ape: the biology and culture of human odour
[2]translation William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954) Pics via wikimedia commons, parfum de pub, mongoose.wordpress.com, Nude Painting by Amedeo Modigliani via apolloart.com.

This is part of a series on the note of "musk" and its various types. Please also refer to: Part 2: Natural Deer Musk (Tonquin Musk), how does it smell and info on Synthetic Musk Substitutes and Part 3: The Many Permutations of Musk (Musk Types on the Market)