Penhaligon's Sartorial: fragrance review & draw

Penhaligon’s latest fragrance, Sartorial, is tailored; literally. It reminds me a bit of the Humphrey character in 1980s BBC Yes Minister! satirical series: of a certain age and social placement, immaculate, a bit stuffy suits thanks to the job requirements, yet there is a glint in the eye, no doubt about it. You can't deny there is rhyme to its reason and intrigue to its plot, but is the scent as inspired as it's suggested in the press material?

Still for all its smell-good factor within the tired (by now) aromatic fougère* genre Sartorial by Penhaligon's presents something of a dichotomy: On one hand, it reminds me of my elegant grandpa (he uncharacteristically wore chest-thumbing Givenchy Gentleman and carried an inexpensive white bottle of Tabac with him on beach vacations, of all things), so young blokes might get scared off ~or repelled, it depends on their lineage memories.
On the other hand, it's got something of the ape-to-gentleman British touch which Penhaligon's obviously meant to catch for overseas audiences, so chalk it up to a success at the drawing table, pun intended. What's left to wonder is whether high-end shoppers will immediately realise that it is so reminiscent of older classics of the 70s that have trickled down to the point of "old man scent" (Please refer to our The Perfume Wars Old Lady vs.Older Woman Perfume article to fully realise the implications of such a moniker)

Created by perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour at the nudge of Emily Maben, Penhaligon's marketing director, it was inspired by the scents of the workroom at Norton & Sons, bespoke tailors at No. 16 Savile Row who dressed everyone from insulars Winston Churchill and Cary Grant to "imported Beau Brummels" Fred Astaire and King Juan Carlos of Spain. Now, the tailor's doesn't really smell of much, you might argue, perhaps a bit of that indeterminate wooliness and dry chalk that is par for the course where flannels and fine cashmeres are cut to produce those bespoke suits we admire. And you would be right! So, we're dealing with a transposition of Englishness into a brand which is characteristically British to a fault to begin with; it's a bit like putting a huge beret on the Eiffel Tower or an extra pinch of sugar to a square of Turkish baklava!

According to Penhaligon's:

"Sartorial is a contemporary interpretation of a classic Fougère; the traditional notes of oakmoss, tonka bean and lavender have been exquisitely stitched together with woods, ozonic and metallic effects, leather, violet leaf, honey and spices to create the perfect illusion of a tailor’s workroom. The modern thread running through Sartorial is beeswax; echoing the blocks of wax each thread is run across before stitching. This sweet smudged note ties together the more traditional elements; the oiled flash of shears cutting cloth, the rub of fabric beneath fingers, tobacco tinted cabinetry, puffs of chalk in the air and old paper patterns vanilla with age".

Nice story, but what is original in Sartorial is first and foremost structure: One of contrasting duality between tradition and deconstruction (is it old or is it new again?), and one which reinterprets programmatic elements into an abstract impression, much like the fougère itself. Lavender, oakmoss, patchouli and often geranium with coumarin as the sweeter note act as the skeleton of the fougère, the most archetypally "virile" genre, but also one which doesn't evoke a natural smell but rather the Victorian salons where men were allowed to scent their handkerchiefs with "clean" colognes and waft them in the air. That's so Penhaligon's I could tear up a bit. The dichotomy is so clear as if Terence Stamp is weilding his sabre in Far from the Madding Crowd and then shoots a baddie in The Limey.

The arresting top note in Penhaligon's Sartorial is nicely misleading, seemingly giving the impression of a masculine cologne citric blast (thanks to traditional distillate neroli, often featured in men's colognes as a mid-hesperide, mid-floral top note). But it's actually a careful, intelligent nugget which belies any classification: It combines the sharp notes of ozone with the soapy-clean-after-shave effect of aldehydes, sprinkled with the metallic-watery note of violet leaf (very cliché, as it's featured in so many unisex and masculine contemporary scents, so obviously Bertrand is toying with us). Despite the mention of spices, the effect is not pronounced (a bit of pepper is all I sense). Sartorial is not a spicy fragrance and none of the spices make themselves known per se; the wonderful leather, lavender and patchouli-coumarinic facets rise soon after the top notes dissipate and persist for long: The caramelised end of the spectrum of lavender is supremely coupled to the naturally occuring dark cocoa note of natural patchouli absolute. It just smells good!
The earthiness of patchouli is a given for Duchaufour who has proclaimed the earth's smell as an eternal inspiration (and who uses the Racine base** to infiltrate his compositions with it very often, a note between aged vetiver and polished woods): The effect is not exactly "dirty" though (as in dirt), as it is closer to yummy, honeyed and lightly incense-like (more myrrh than frankincense) and somewhat musky: think of Luten's mysterious and intense Borneo 1834 with its roasted notes and Ayala Moriel's Film Noir than Chanel's fluffier chocolate meringue Coromandel.

Penhaligon's Sartorial weaves its strange spell by its poise and cocksure attitude at the tailor's fitting: Not only does it not proclaim whether it's a "leftie" or "rightie" (is this too much information for a Brit?), it's snuggly enough to be filched by a woman as an androgyne backdrop for when she ventures out to turn the tables; only if she's supremely feminine however!

One carded sample is available for a lucky reader. State what you think if you tried it in the comments; or, if you haven't, whether you like its concept or not and why.

Notes for Penhaligon's Sartorial:
HEAD NOTES: Aldehydes, Ozonic Effect, Metallic Effect, Violet Leaf, Neroli, Cardamom, Black Pepper, Fresh Ginger
HEART NOTES: Beeswax, Cyclamen, Linden Blossom, Lavender, Leather
BASE NOTES: Gurgum Wood, Patchouli, Myrrh, Cedarwood, Tonka Bean, Oakmoss, White Musk, Honey Effect, Old Wood Effect, Vanilla, Amber

Artist Quentin Jones was commissioned by Penhaligon’s to create a stop-motion animation exploring the story behind the new gentlemen’s fragrance Sartorial. Filmed at the Norton & Sons shop on Savile Row, the animation features the fragrance’s creator Bertrand Duchaufour. Patrick Grant, the owner of Norton & Sons, also makes a cameo appearance. The opening scenes depict perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour at Norton & Sons, absorbing the scents and smells of the workrooms. Bertrand is seen smelling the fragrant scents exuded from the rolls of fabric, machinery and paper patterns before he is able to embark on the creative journey to craft a contemporary fragrance or cologne inspired by the scents and smells of the famous Savile Row workrooms.



*Aromatic fougère is a subcategory of the "fougère" family of scents: Essentially, an accord of lavender-oakmoss-coumarin (from tonka beans) creates the classic fougère (examples of which are the historical Fougere Royale by Houbigant which started the "family" and the 70-80s classics Azzaro Pour Homme, Paco Rabanne pour Homme, Drakkar Noir) and touches of aromatic plants (usually herbs) are added.
**Corps Racine by Symrise or 2-(3-phenylpropyl) Pyridine according to H&R

In the interests of full disclosure, the company sent me samples in the mail to try it out.

The winner of the draw...

...for the Le Labo samples is Gregory. Congratulations and please send me a shipping address, using the email contact on Profile or About page so I get these out to you soon!
Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one!

How will the LVMH Hostile Stake Affect Hermes Fragrances?

It's no news that Louis Vuitton Moët Hennesy (LVMH) acts as a real-life Pacman, trying to eat all pac dots, i.e. luxe companies, through the maze of the international luxury market, digesting them into an undistinguishable mush which tends to divest them of their artisanal roots and top-notch quality control in lieu of creative bean-counting and super profits for crass product that screams "look at me".

Their latest desire to impose a hostile takeover at Hermès International (or at least the deciding majority of votes at board meetings), as announced at the end of October 2010, poses some serious problems and lots of opposition, no less from the heirs of the late Jean Louis Dumas. Of course with Hermès set to report another revenue increase, a 30% for the third quarter 0f 2010, it’s easy to understand why LVMH CEO Bernard Arnault ~whose own profits have slipped in the last year~ has such a keen interest in the company! "The family has clearly and unanimously told Le Figaro that the French mogul is to back off: "If you want to be friendly, Mister Arnault, you need to withdraw," Bertrand Puech, a fifth-generation descendant of founder Thierry Hermes, was quoted as saying. The family owns about 73% of Hermès' share capital, and its partnership structure means no change in contral can take place without family agreement. Afterall, it's family-run which cemented both their heritage and their endurance during the international economic crisis. With Arnault banging down the door, "will class be turned to mass", as Newsweek wondered?

It is not widely known however that LVMH had already acquired some shares at the beginning of 2008 through societies which belonged to them (equity shares), but it was the announcement on Reuters of 17,1% retaining of the total capital of the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré house which sparked the flames, especially since it was reported to the saddle-producing house only hours before going on air: Actually it was 5% and 10% of the capital of Hermès on October 21st and 15% on October 24th, to be more precise. According to the same source "LVMH said over the weekend it had acquired its Hermes holdings at an average price of 80.5 euros a share, or a 54 percent discount to Hermes' closing share price prior to the announcement, raising questions as to how it had secured such a price."

Women’s Wear Daily reports that the company used a number of stealth maneuvers, including cash-settle equity swaps and use of several cannily named LVMH subsidiaries, to increase its stake in Hermes by over 14% without identifying itself as a competitor to Hermès brass! [quote] Is Bernaud Arnault the Anti-Chirst? Meanwhile, the group will await the French market regulator's decision on whether LVMH's stake purchase happened legally.

The fiercest competition and the heavyweight fight concerns handbags, the two competitors owning the top prestigious manufacturing of coveted luxury handbags in the world. But since they also own some of the best known and respected fragrances sectors respectively the questions does enter the scope of the Perfume Shrine.

Hermès is a peculiar case and merits its own analysis, because it's the last ultra-traditional, ultra-refined, top-notch recognisable luxe company with fragrances in its portfolio standing on French soil still. The historic house of Guerlain has been already taken-over by LVMH several years ago and the effects have been somewhat less than satisfactory for those of us who appreciate history, family-held tradition and minute attention to quality controls and artistic concepts. The flux of the the behemoth's money benefited the refurbishing of the perfume mecca that is the flaship store at Champs Elysees, yet it has resulted in dubious reformulations, an avalanche of questionable releases priced for Arab shieks with a penchant for showing off French insignia and the reliquinshing of the firm's control by the last heir, Jean Paul Guerlain.
Parfums Dior have suffered an even worse fate in the hands of LVMH, lowering the quality of the vintages and repackaging blatant lies with the same names on the tags but half the soul. Givenchy, the former bastion of restrained elegance under Hubert de Givenchy, became the producer of myriads of mainstream fragrances for men and women who dare not differ from their fellow commuters on the train to work.
Chanel, on the other hand, although still independent, stirred surely by the Wertheimers, has profited by a long-held respect and almost awe which it doesn't wholly deserve nowadays. Although the Les Exclusifs move was one of quality, albeit also of impressionalism and opposite awe towards Hermes who had just issued the Hermessences before them, the latest releases ~from the shampoo-formula trite Chance Eau Tendre to the uber-bland and predictable masculine Bleu de Chanel~ point to a downspiral fall which is echoed through the halls of Rue Cambon and its mirrored staircase in no uncertain terms.

The only one left to guard Thermopylae in what seems like the last bastion of French tradition is Hermès and I for one sincerely hope it does not go down in history for a Spartan ending. In perfumery terms, that would mean a capitulation to the lowest common denominator, an eradication of everything and starting afresh (look what happened to the Italian house of Fendi parfums, which had a sudden discontinuation of ALL its perfumers upon seizure by LVMH) and a spike at prices on faux-luxury "fountain" extraits de parfum with fancy names going for several thousands of dollars...

Luxury writer Dana Thomas, who famously wrote the pithy Deluxe: How Luxury Lost is Lustre is fingering the French mogul as a fiendish money-making former property developer with no artistic sensibility and comparing Louis Vuitton to McDonald’s “A million served,” says Thomas drily. The logo is as recognisable as the golden arches. “It really is. I would certainly put it in the top 10, along with Nike, Coca-Cola...”

Hermès, to their credit, continued to be family-run in a world which moved into complex corporate circles and in a rare perceptive move hired an in-house perfumer of international renown, Jean Claude Ellena, who with his masterful, very refined palette and distinctive style imbued the Hermes fragrances with a clear signature, a refined intellectualism and a sense of true old-money luxury: not trying too hard, no gilted logos, no vulgar display of affluence, a in-the-know hush-hush acceptance of secret codes. Of course this move proved to be financially intelligent while still a continuation of the spirit of the house: The fragrance sector for Hermès bloomed to unprecedented heights and the company even considers expanding to the Asian market with a specific line geared only to them.
Would a take-over by LVMH signal the destruction of such a happy co-existence of quality and successful presence in the market?

According to a very perceptive and spot-on article in Forbes: "Unlike many of its competitors, including major French conglomerates Louis Vuitton Moët Hennessy and PPR, owned by billionaires Bernard Arnault and Francois Pinault, respectively, the brand has been able to increase sales by continuing to please its core customer, rather than aiming to attract a broader audience. At Hermès, you won’t find a $500 dollar handbag like you will at PPR-owned Gucci, or $300 plastic costume earrings, which are on sale at privately-owned Chanel. Instead, the 170-year-old company focuses on producing limited editions of their handbags, which begin at $5,000. “What’s really interesting about Hermès is that they have not followed the typical luxury model,” says Lucian James , president of Agenda Inc, a brand strategy firm in Paris and San Francisco. “When other luxury brands were reaching to a slightly bigger mass market, Hermès made a very specific decision not to do that.”

It's interesting to note, according to an interview in French newspaper Le Figaro, how the manager Patrick Thomas has since opposed the behemoth's insatiable appetite in no unclear terms, going at the root of the matter: “Hermès has absolutely no need of help, support or guardian.” “This culture (of craftmanship and strong traditions) is hardly compatible with one of a big group. It is not a financial battle, it’s a cultural battle.”

Indeed...

All opinions pronounced by Elena Vosnaki are the sole responsibility of its author and are not endorsed by any luxury house.

pics via mediairte.com, newsweek & dana thomas

Thierry Mugler Womanity: fragrance review

All Mugler fragrances create a stir, from the iconic Angel to the stomping woody jasmine in Alien, the metamorphosis-inducing androgyne tuberose of À Travers le Miroir to the surprising Miroir des Envies with its Nutella chord: Womanity, a woody, sweet (fig notes) and salty Eau de Parfum which was advertised with fish references (the caviar accord) alongside the name cannot but conjure images of female genitalia to the fertile imagination. And maybe this was at the back of the mind of Mugler and the creative team at the Clarins group all along!
The designer's house has almost gone bust, kept afloat via perfume & accessories and the man has buffed himself up into a mutilated rendition of a seedy-magazine bodybuilder named Manfred. Something has got to keep the perfumes at the position they are nevertheless and that something is innovation and originality. Womanity is no exception, the definition of a love-it-or-hate-it fragrance, much like all Mugler perfumes are with the possible exception of Cologne.

"Womanity is the quality of being a woman. We differentiate ourselves from the rest of huMANity in biological, social, cultural and spiritual terms" (according to womanity.blogspot) Colour me unimpressed. Yet the composition which perfumers at Mane concocted for Parfums Mugler is nothing short of apocalyptic (in both senses of the word). The overwhelming sweetness (and loudness!) of the fig note is flanked by the austerity of wood and a salty nuance (ever so slight) which manage to create something that doesn't conjure anything concrete, and doesn't recall any other fragrance on the market. In fact if the saltiness was more pronounced (as the woody drydown progresses the arch seems to fall flat and become dull and incongruent) we would be talking about a true classic-to-be.

Smell and compare with other fig fragrances ~such as the two classics, Philosykos by Diptyque and Premier Figuier by L'Artisan Parfumeur with their hint of coconut and bitter leaf note; or the ultra-refined Un Jardin en Mediterranée by Hermès with its herbal aromata~ and you will see how Womanity differs. First of all, there is a watery-sweet note on top which is very unusual: The fruity note passingly resembles that in Un Jardin En Mediterranée or Figue Amère by Miller Harris, but whereas the warmth co-existed with the cool in the Hermès fragrance, laid on thin over the green notes, and it was bitterish-cool in the Miller Harris, in Mugler's Womanity the figs have caramelised. Their succulent flesh id more apparent in the sun than the leaves or the bark of the tree, with a nod to fig cookies as well. And then the salty note, said to evoke caviar!! Its intimate, lightly animalic quality is musky and intriguing. Pierre Aulas, olfactive director of Clarins Fragrance Group, revealed that it was a true challenge to work on Mugler's idea of combining savoury and sweet notes. The ambery-woody drydown is the "weakest" part aesthetically, borrowed as it seems from Alien, and not exciting enough, echoing as it does a base common in other fragrances on the market.

The finished effect though is so powerful that it is worth amassing some of the quotes of people who have sampled Womanity and publicized their impressions on Fragrantica. Those range from the impressionist ("a futuristic scent, or what perfume would be like on an alien planet" and "something a mermaid would wear. Overpoweringly fishy at first as she rises from the sea, but later as she is sitting on a rock combing her tresses, breezes from the nearby fig groves sweeten the air. Perhaps she is on a Greek island somewhere in the Mediterranean") to the programmatic ("I know many people get citrus, fig, salty caviar, nail polish or bad body odour, but I smell spicy cookies" and "Womanity smells like popcorn from a movie theatre, filled with gobs butter"), all the way to the purely dismissive ("It smells dirty, like youd been cutting trees all day and smoking at the same time, but smells even worse than that if you can imagine"). A fragrance which creates strong feelings......but a very strange one!

Thierry Mugler has once again jumped into the deep end with Womanity, proposing a new release which sounds odd but will definitely open up new doors, possibly more refined along the way. If the previous Mugler scents are any indication to the spawn they leave behind, then expect to smell more of this combination in the future. I don't think I would personally wear Womanity, my tastes running to subtler, more intellectual routes concerning personal fragrance, but I cannot deny its risk-taking as the proper stance to take at the moment, even if not entirely successful. If all fragrance houses did this, the world of perfumery would be much more interesting at least, without a doubt!

NB: The review is based on my own sampling at store and at home and NOT on the promotional pre-release "kit" which several other bloggers got in the mail in summer 2010.



Related reading on Perfumeshrine: Thierry Mugler news & reviews

Caviar on Fig photo by Boverthemoon

Bertrand Duchaufour: "My work always seems to come from bumping into someone unexpectedly"

How romantic is it for a modern day perfumer to get initially interested in perfumery because he fell in love with a girl with great taste in fragrance at 17? (She was wearing Chanel's No.19) And is it any wonder that Guerlain's Mitsouko and Jacques Fath's Iris Gris still remain to this day the olfactory monuments by which consequent artists set the bar?

Bertrand Duchaufour, perfumer for Comme des Garcons, L'Artisan Parfumeur and Penhaligon's among others, who trained at the Lautier Florasynth group in Grasse while also working at Florasynth Paris and Créations Aromatiques (the two companies merged in 1997), is revealing these and other interesting points about his tastes and work perspective in a short & sweet interview hosted on Osmoz.com on this link.
Worth a read!