"Talking of perfume is like talking about everything. When one talks about a perfume there is usually a false story behind it. When you create a perfume it is not created for a man or a woman, it's something to be determined afterwards; it's the people who determine what it is. The sex isn't determined by perfume, choice is.
I am its servant. It's It (perfume) that I have to serve. I am its servant. If I don't serve, I'm but a merchant, making tricks with paper (blotters) like everyone does...
Perfume is not a product; it's something else, it's mystical. [...] A perfume is brilliant when it manages to create a response in itself; if it does not, what's the purpose? [...]{The business} is a vast operation...it's like Viennese waltz, it's mild and turns around and around. That is embarrassing! Before disgust, there's ennui.
If perfume becomes a discourse that is politically & sentimentally correct, it no longer holds any interest."
(NB.the translation follows the most important quotes)
thanks to Alesio Lo Vecchio for bringing it to my attention ETA: And thanks to Bela for dependable bitch-slapping spellcheck!
Knize Ten is a 1924 fragrance composed by Vincent Roubert (who worked with Coty on L’Or and L’Aimant) for the Viennese tailor Knize. The Knize boutique was famously designed in 1913 by architect Adolf Loos, whose anti-Art Nouveau essay, Ornament and Crime, helped define Modernist aesthetics with its smooth surfaces and pure play on volume.
The scent itself was introduced to complement the clothier’s first ready-to-wear men’s line and in its opening notes, it clearly speaks in a masculine tone. The leather, paired with bergamot, petitgrain, orange, lemon and the slightly medicinal rosemary, is as dryly authoritative as a sharply-cut gabardine suit. As it eases into wear, rose, orris and carnation throw in a gender-bending curve ~Marlene Dietrich (herself a Knize patron) may have well slipped into that suit… The leather itself is of that of the wrist-watchband or fine shoe rather than the pungent “cuir de russie” boot. But despite the richly animalic base – musk, amber and castoreum – hinting at bridled desires, Knize Ten retains the buffered, well-bred smoothness of gentleman who never felt the need to set foot in the cigar-smoke laden cabinet of Herr Doktor Freud…
by guest writer Carmencanada
Notes for Knize Knize Ten:
Top: petit grain, orange, lemon, rosemary and bergamot.
Heart: rose, iris, carnation, cinnamon, clove, cedar, patchouli and sandalwood
Base: castoreum, ambergris, musk and moss.
It's no secret that Greek brand Korres has created a cult following around the world. The trio of fragrances in old chemist's apothecary-style bottles were named after the main scented materials entering the composition and they became an instant hit shortly after their introduction in 2009. They were originally meant to be limited editions in the USA, the stock quickly dried up and became the object of fervent hunting on international online venues. The fragrances of course are a mainstay in the Greek market.
The original trio included the intriguingly appealing Pepper Jasmine Gaiacwood Passion Fruit (woody oriental) the majestically deep Saffron Agarwood Cardamom (spicy oriental) and Rose Blackcurrant Cyclamen (floral). Of them, one is discontinued even from the Greek market my sources reveal to me, namely Rose Blackcurrant Cyclamen, the weakest link in the chain in my opinion.
EDIT TO ADD 25th Nov: One of my readers, Iliana, kindly notified me that the one she had trouble finding in her city was Saffron Agarwood Cardamom. I'm pleased to say that this is still in production beyond any doubt, as shown on the official Korres site today (choose country option International), showing two of the previous trio (exactly as I had mentioned above) on their index page alongside the new ones (Oddly enough they don't show the Heliotrope Ylang Ylang Citron one, see below). See attached screenshot above for proof (click to enlarge).
You can look at the frag-zine KORRES created especially for its fragrance launch, the editorial concept of which was developed by the brand’s global Communications Director, George Anthoulakis on this link by the Greek page in English on Yatzer. (It's an interesting read with quite some info and is visually very appealing)
However new fragrances are being introduced as of this minute (they're not up on the official Korres site at the time of writing this post), after the success of the former trio, which Perfume Shrine is proud to introduce to the international fragrance community. The newest Korres fragrance collection includes:
Heliotrope Ylang Ylang Citron
Vetiver root Green tea Cedarwood
White tea Bergamot Freesia
Iris Lily of the Valley Cotton
Vanilla Freesia Lyche
Paeonia Vanilla Amber Pear
I was positively impressed by the Heliotrope Ylang Ylang Citron which is a floriental, not too sweet and with a piqant, "sharp" top note which blends well with the almond/cherry pie note of heliotrope. For those who want a nice "clean" woody-musk that doesn't punch you with its synthetic fist, Iris Lily of the Valley Cotton is surprisingly smooth, with a perceptively rooty-metallic iris note in the background. This is a perfect everyday fragrance which could pass for the natural smell of your skin and clothes. In my opinion the Paeonia Vanilla Amber Pear was the least original, as it reminds me of Coco Mademoiselle. Of course that might prove to be its strong selling point, although the average Korres consumer is sophisticated enough to not be searching for dupes from what I've seen. Expect to see international launches in the foreseeable future! The price point is comparable to the previous trio, i.e. good value for money.
'Gossip Girl' star Leighton Meester says she likes to create makes her own perfumes as she likes to smell unique. The 'Gossip Girl' star likes to wear a fragrance tailor-made to her needs, so she visits a store in New York where can pick out her favourite smells and have them made into a fragrance. "I make my own scent - it's mixed for me in a fragrance store in New York. They keep your smell selections on file so you can go back and re-order the same perfume, or you can change it each time." [source]
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 Noirthan 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.
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