Guerlain Flora Nymphea: new fragrance, new film

To celebrate 10 years of Aqua Allegoria scents (meant to interpret notes in a simple, uncomplicated way), Guerlain releases this spring Aqua Allegoria Flora Nymphéa. Aqua Allegoria Flora Nymphéa, is composed of three main ingredients – seringa (NB this is not lilac but Philadelphus coronarius/mock orange which smells like heady white flowers), orange blossom and honey and was composed by in-house perfumer Thierry Wasser. To create the scent, Guerlain claims using "an exquisite orange tree flower that's been produced in Calabria for more than three generations". Fig and mimosa also combine with orange tree flower to create the romantic scent.

The outer carton of the fragrances in all the line of Aqua Allegoria scents changes: the symbol becomes the embossed bee in different colours upon a white background, instead of the romantic and swirling flower, herbs and spices designs of the past. In honour of the 10th anniversary Guerlain will also present an animated movie which will feature a nymph named Flora Nymphea who will tell the story of flowers and scents led by a bee, symbol of the brand. The movie was filmed in 3D production and is one minute long, told by Olivia Ruiz (click below to watch). The advertising campaign also features a feminine character – a nymph from a fairy tale, with pale pink floral petals. The Face is Anna Selezneva, photographed by Paolo Roversi.

Guerlain's Flora Nymphéa will be available as 125 ml of Eau de Toilette in a redesigned flacon by Robert Granai: the familiar honeycomb is reprised with its bee on the cap.

Musk Series 3: The Many Permutations of Musk

In all of perfume speak, "musk" and "musky" has got to be the most casually utilized term, often taking on hidden nuances inadvertedly to the speaker, based on their own perception of the odoriferous molecules creating the impression. We had touched upon this issue while discussing the cultural perception of musk (Musk Series Part 1), peppered with anecdotes. We had also tried to shed some light into the differences between the natural essence (produced from the deer Moschus moschiferous L.) and the vast array of synthetic musks in the industry today on this article (Musk Series Part 2).

In the words of Philip Kraft “the more one studies [musk] the more contrasting, vibrant and oscillating it becomes: repulsive–attractive, chemical–warm, sweaty–balmy, acrid–waxy, earthy–powdery, fatty–chocolate-like, pungent–leathery, resinous–spicy, fig-like, dry, nutty and woody, to give just some impressions” [1]. Still, beyond our interpretation (surely a personal matter) and the more clandestine issue of which ingredients are actually utilized in any given perfume, anyone immersing themselves into the fascinating subject of musks stumbles on another obstacle: What about the denominations that the companies and online boutiques give to their musks and musk notes themselves? What is "white musk", "black musk", "Egyptian musk" and so on and on to infinity? Let's try to find out in this guide.

White musk
The easiest to tackle, because of its ubiquity. You have probably seen the term in single-standing fragrances at the drugstore, such as the famous Jovan White Musk, and you have probably seen it in relation to the continuing success of The Body Shop's White Musk. The latter is comprised of the synthetic musks Galaxolide (7,7%), Tonalide (1,6%) a little Cashmeran (0,1%) for a total of 9.4% of white musks. Galaxolide (an International Fragrances & Flavours synthetic molecule with staggering popularity in the industry in both fine fragrance and functional products) gives a a clean, but also musky flowery-woody odour with a sweet, powdery nuance: You're probably well familiar with it through fabric softeners such as Comfort and Soflan and through detergents like Coral. White musk in perfumery therefore has become synonymous with a "clean", soapy and somewhat biting impression, with a passing floral tonality. Globalide (another musk synthetic, also called Habanolide) is often used in white musk compositions: A metallic smelling, fresh radiant musk which opens up the bouquet. Indeed its coupling with Helvetolide in Emporio Armani White For Her, by Alberto Morillas in 2001, gave rise to the term "white musk" as official perfume lingo beyond the brand names of yore ~its olfactory profile opposed to the balmy darkness of the prior nitromusks. The same synthetic (Globalide) enters the aldehydic musk Glow by Jennifer Lopez, accenting the fresh white floral components of the formula, while it also gives the cooly herbal-soapy feel of Mugler's Cologne and the baby-soft"clean" of Clair de Musc by Serge Lutens. It also outlives the blackberry top notes of the popular Trish McEvoy #9 Blackberry Musk.

Egyptian Musk
Even though the adjective might make you think that these musks come in their own little sarcophagi chanting in an unknown language, the reality is far removed from such exoticism. Simply put, Egyptian musk does not originate in Egypt, but is simply a variant of a musk blend in which the clean, scrubbed-skin nuance is the dominant part. The laundry day feel is there, much like with white musk (see above) but in general the effect is less screetchy and subtler to detect. Famous examples in use include the perennial Narciso For Her, where the fractialised patchouli (keeping the cleaner aspects) and the synthetic white flowers are highlighted by the clean muskiness of the base and smoothed out by a recent amber molecule, Amberlyn and a hint of honey. The Cuban born designer was inspired by an Egyptian musk oil he used to buy in New York City along his friend and muse Caroline Bessette-Kennedy. (It turns out it was Abdul Kareem's Egyptian Musk). The Egyptian musk part is easier to detect it if you test the Musk For Her by Narciso Rodriguez in the same line of fragrances (for a breakdown of the confusing concentrations of the line, please refer to this guide). There, Egyptian Musk stands almost solely on its own. They have recently updated the line with specific Musk editions.
The combination with "clean" patchouli seems to be an approved shortcut for this variant. Reading through this recipe for homemade Egyptian Musk, you come across the mention of patchouli leaves and rose petals entering the composition in a vegetal-base oil.
Several indie perfumers such as Ava Luxe, Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, Sonoma Scent Studio, as well as etailers (the likes of Nemat, Sweetcakes, Utopia Oils et al) make Egyptian musk fragrances. Its popularity has to do with its sheer subtlety, it would never offend a scent-phobic environment and it is pleasant to have around when you don't feel like perfume. The popular Egyptian Goddess oil from Auric Blends is a good example of a plain, unadulterated Egyptian musk with no other tonalities included: it smells a lot like fabric softener! You might also encounter this as "Pearl Musk" such as chez Ava Luxe, who offers both this and an Egyptian Musk version.

African Musk
Despite the "wild" evoking name, African musks usually are variations on the theme of Egyptian musk, soft, clean, inoffensive with an inclusion of sweet vanilla which makes them even cuddlier.

Red Musk
A chromatic variation in the name which was inspired by the "white" adjective, it bears an incense note reminiscent of the Eastern temples. Several etailers provide "red musks".

Black Musk
Similar concept with red musk, but this time with a woody, somewhat dirtier background, although not exactly animalic.

Blue Musk
Another variation poised on colour colding, this is close to white musks, with perhaps a sweeter musky nuance, a little softer and close to African Musk. If a manufacturer makes both Blue Musk and African Musk, it would be advised to try out before investing in both.

China Musk
Inspired by Body Time's China Rain, China musk types usually feature a distinct aldehydic and green top which brings on a refreshing feeling. Halfway between the metallic feel of white musks and the suaveness of Egyptian musks, China musks are saturated with light and are very pleasant. Ava Luxe makes an exceptional speciment termed China Musk.

Oriental Musk
A slight tweek on the China Musk idea (see above). Usually brought by jasmine inclusions and powdery background. Ava Luxe has one in her line.

Tunisian Musk
Generally the term refers to a sweet variation on the clean Egyptian theme (see above). Some manufacturers offer both Egyptian and Tunisian versions, so there is a slight twist in there. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz as well as TheParfumerie.com offer their versions.

Turkish Musk
Inspired by the traditions of tea and exotic leathers brought through the Silk Road to Constantinople, perfumers have come up with a musk blend that uses tarry topnotes to denote black tea and leathery nuances. Drier than the African-termed musks and with a little bit of sophistication, while still a wearable musk for layering or wearing alone. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz has a nice offering in this category.

Tibetan or Himalyan Musk
A variation seemingly close to the real Tonkin musk tincture but in reality not even close. These are warmer, sweetish interpretations presented by etailers and street vendors which can be very pleasant and inviting with good lasting power and hushed tonalities. Nemat makes a lovely Himalayan Musk oil which is supreme for wearing alone or layering purposes under other fragrances or oils to make them warmer and softer.

Nude Musk
I took the term used by Ava Luxe's fragrance to denote this category which also includes Perfect Veil by Creative Scentualisation and Sonoma Scent Studio Opal (for a comparison review of all three, click here) just because it's so erotically charged. This is a category which is meant to smell like "your skin but better", obviously a very popular demand and considered quite sexy (the skin-on-skin concept). It takes a lightly citrusy top (bergamot) and rounds it out through sandalwood and other creamy notes, blending into the skin where it smells as if you rolled into bed after a shower: That would be the scent you'd leave on the sheets. Suggestive, I know...The permutation with sandalwood was famously introduced in the 1970s with Bonne Belle's Skin Musk, Sarah Jessica Parker's longtime standby (this is now made with a slight reorchestration by Parfums du Coeur).

Wild Card musks (or anything goes...)
Some of the musks which you will encounter in your galivanting among fragrance lines are imaginatively named with poetic overtones leaving you wondering what they entail. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz has a whole array of unusual musks. Among them she makes a terrific animalic musk called Almadina Musk, which although reminiscent of the Arabian Al Madina, is in fact a leathery (lots of castoreum) and green marvel which projects with swagger and is highly recommended as a stand-alone fragrance. The Body Shop has a similar case of a musk which is not really musky: Japanese Musk is really a chypre in the manner of powdery chypres of old (see Ma Griffe); starched, cool, delightful and wonderful on a handkerchief tucked inside a purse.
DSH Special Formula X is a skin-friendly and erotic perfume that evokes boyish musks of yore, presented in the plain and longer lasting Extreme version. Dawn's Old School Musk is reminiscent of the 70s specimens specifically, such as Kiehl's as well as Houbigant's and Dana's, slightly greener and animalic. The touch of ambergris at the base makes it a bit like salt-water dipped skin.
The Fragrance Shop boasts an Almadina Musk too which they describe as "a spicy bitter musk with animalic undertones". Coty on the other hand makes the wonderful old barber-shop evocative Wild Musk which has a fougere overlay over the musky base. A retro fragrance with warm, inviting and lightly masculine accents, superb! Sonoma Scent Studio makes a spicy musk, called Sienna Musk, which is truly wonderful. (for a full review, please refer to this link)

Although mentioned in passing above, some etailers such as The Perfumerie.com feature lots of ethnically named musks, such Nigerian Musk (green-ish and named as a variant of Egyptian obviously; same with Tunisian, Indian etc). Generally they indicate what kind of "blend" they fit into, but trying out is always recommended first. As with everything...

The Musk Series will continue with lots of other interesting info and reviews.

[1] Kraft, Philip. “Aroma Chemicals IV: Musks” in Chemistry and Technology of Flavors and Fragrances, ed. by David Rowe. Blackwell Publishing, UK, 2004
Photograph of Lisa Lion by Robert Mapplethorpe. Perfume pics via parfum de pub

No fragrance for Detroit city workers

"[Detroit] City employees will be urged not to wear perfume, cologne or aftershave as a result of a settlement in a federal lawsuit. Officials plan to place warning placards in three city buildings. The signs will warn workers to avoid “wearing scented products, including … colognes, aftershave lotions, perfumes, deodorants, body/face lotions … (and) the use of scented candles, perfume samples from magazines, spray or solid air fresheners."

Amazing! And very hard to implement...

Read the whole article on this link.

Annette Neuffer Narcissus Poeticus: fragrance review & a draw

"Just a drop on each wrist and two in the bath were enough to send silver running down the walls" wrote French Vogue editor Joan Juliet Buck once upon a time, referring to an absolute of narcissus, properly named Narcissus Poeticus in Latin or Poet's Daffodil (it's a kind of daffodil after all). And she continued: "It set the world throbbing out of contol when I wore it. It became a little weird. It was only years later that I read inhaling too much of it can make you go mad". Makes you want to rush out and find out where narcissus absolute is available, doesn't it!
Yet narcissus absolute is almost never used in industrial calibre perfumes because of its scarcity and minute yield, which makes the cost prohibitive. Once upon a time it entered such romantic compositions as Worth's Je Reviens, but certainly not any more.
Therefore, upon being informed that indie German perfumer and jazz musician Annette Neuffer had prepared her own version of this intoxicating spring flower which spots the fields of my homeland right about springtime, I was immediately reminded of the above trivia. Annette reassured me that the fragrance "actually srceams for you - the indolic flowers gal". Can you say I've made my proclivities well-known...The dice was cast and predictably I was toast upon the very first vapour.

Because you see, all-naturals Narcissus Poeticus is heady, bedazzling, Bacchic, mind-blowing and beautiful, there's no other way to describe it! The tale of Narcissus, struck by Nemesis for his egotistical admiration makes you understand well just how this little flower can truly madden! The fragrance by Annette blends luscious, vibrant, natural essences, weaved into a dynamic composition; I have had it evolve on my skin, and each day there is a new nuance to be revealed, one day it's the jasmine, another what I perceive as orange blossom absolute (the genius pairing first conceived for Narcisse Noir by Caron) and another yet I get lots of yummy tonka bean. The inspiration came through early botanical fragrant evaluation excursions in Annette's Grandma's garden: "I was about 1,5 years old then. In spring there were lots of narcissus, jonquils and violets in bloom and their scent fascinated me already in that very early age of about 15 months! My grandma told me that I never put the flowers in my mouth, like all little kids do, but picked and inhaled them. The garden was located between forest and river and the most exciting humid crisp green scents were wafting around and intermingled with the air of the flowers".

This spring awakening is translated into Narcissus Poeticus. "Galbanum is the personification of that fresh spring green elusion and matches wonderfully with the essence of violet leaf. And a little later on in the year the fruity and fresh black currant buds - I used the absolute of it very sparingly to give a hint of fruitiness". Those who are afraid of the bitter green tang of the exotic grass of galbanum should sigh with relief, here it's weaved in very smoothly without dominating. Narcissus with its intoxicating, sweet, yet at the same time almost smoky vibe, poised between jasmine and hyacinth, is represented in all realism here; as if the white blooms are sprouting in front of your computer-weary eyes from the landscape painting across the wall.

You'd be hard pressed to peg this fragrance only as a floral or a green, nevertheless; there is an intimate, unsettling (deeply sexual) vibe about it, like a warm pillow where a beloved head had slept on the night before and you're clutching it in the morning, the memory of the scent even more precious than the reality lived, to paraphrase Henry Miller and his sexy Tropic of Cancer. The inclusion of blackcurrant buds adds a touch of of naughtiness, buttressed by honey and ambrette seeds, two essences that speak in intimate, hushed tones of lust and shared moments. A floral exalted into an animalic that can still behave, meowing its yearning. The slight hint of a dark chocolate edge presents itself throughout, something that puzzled me, as I suspected patchouli in minute amounts. Annette confirmed that indeed it is the green leaves of this exotic bush that mollify the floral notes and extend them. Paired with the classic vanilla-sandalwood-tonka accord, the base of Narcissus Poeticus is veering into the comforting.
The version I have is ultra-smooth pure parfum (the new and improved version 2010, not her older composition) and the lasting power for an all-naturals fragrance is quite satisfactory, although don't expect it to outlast a spring day's welcome.

Notes for Narcissus Poeticus by Annette Neuffer:
Head: Bergamot, Clementine, Tunisian Neroli, Violet Leaf, Galbanum
Heart: French Narcissus Absolute, Tunisian Orange Flower Absolute, Indian Tuberose, Egyptian Jasmine*, Bulgarian Rose Otto*
Base: Vanilla Absolute*, Mysore Sandalwood, Tonka Bean, Vegetal Musk

*certified organic, organically grown

Narcissus Poeticus by Annette Neuffer is only available through her site, Opulentals at NaturParfum.net
For our readers, curious to experience this scent in pure parfum, a small decant will be given away to a lucky reader. Enter a comment and you're included in the draw Draw is now closed..

Related reading: Avicenna by Annette Neuffer

Painting The Loss of Virginity (or Spring Awakening) by Paul Gauguin via wikimedia commons. Pic of narcissi via ruhr-uni-bochum.de.
In the interests of full disclosure I originally got to test the perfume through the perfumer herself.

Dawn Spencer Hurwitz Bancha: new fragrance

Niche perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz has expertly crafted a brand new and very special ayurvedic scent elemental to the season which opens up, spring, called Bancha.

In alignment with nature, Bancha hopes to ease the wearer through transitional months, as signs of vitality and fresh starts begin to resurface all around. Memories of winter’s coldness quietly fold into warm breezes as the renewed element of invincibility overtakes the mind and senses. Bancha’s earthy-green notes are inspired by the fresh tones of the traditional Japanese tea of the same name and comprised of essences used in traditional ayrudedic medicine, to ensure complete wellness through simple scent meditation.

Charismatic and refreshing, the bold citrus top notes of Bancha intertwine with a base of earthy, green aromas for a crisp, lively fragrance that will revive the senses and restore harmony. The unisex scent welcomes spring’s fresh start…

Top Notes: Green Mandarin, Lime Peel, Mint, Yuzu
Middle Notes: Holy Basil, Centifolia Rose, Sambac Jasmine, Pine Needle
Base Notes: Australian Sandalwood, Himalayan Cedarwood

With heady green undertones, the sweet notes of this fragrance create a wholly balanced sense of well-being and reinforce holistic healing. Bancha will be available in early 2010.

Bancha is available in:
Parfum - 5 ml Antique Presentation Extract / $80.00
Eau de Parfum - 1oz EDP Spray / $70.00; Mini Dram Bottle / $18.00.

Original info via press release.
Awakening Spring, a painting by Luc-Olivier Merson.