The winner of the draw...

.....for the Tauer advent bottle is Maria (perfume decadent). Congratulations and you've got mail. Thank you everyone for the wonderful participation and the enlightening comments! Till the next one.

Hermes Hermessence Iris Ukiyoe (2010): An Off-Beat Fragrance Review from a Club Patron

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

Voici des fruits, des fleurs, des feuilles et des branches

Et puis voici mon coeur qui ne bat que pour vous.

Ne le déchirez pas avec vos deux mains blanches

Et qu'à vos yeux si beaux l'humble présent soit doux.

J'arrive tout couvert encore de rosée

Que le vent du matin vient glacer à mon front.

Souffrez que ma fatigue à vos pieds reposée

Rêve des chers instants qui la délasseront.

Sur votre jeune sein laissez rouler ma tête

Toute sonore encor de vos derniers baisers;

Laissez-la s'apaiser de la bonne tempête,

Et que je dorme un peu puisque vous reposez.

(Here - some fruit, some flowers, some leaves and branches,

And here - my heart which beats for you alone.

Do not rend it with your two pale hands,

But let it be a small gift, sweet to your beauteous eyes.

I arrive covered with dew,

Which the morning wind freezes upon my brow.

Suffer me in my fatigue to lie at your feet,

Dreaming of sweet moments that will revive me.

On your young bosom let my head rest,

Still filled with your last kisses;

Let my thoughts subside after such a wondrous storm

And let me sleep a little while you lie by my side.)*

--Green by Paul Verlaine (1844-1896), from Romances sans paroles (1874)

No, the world hasn’t bestowed me the gift of colour blindness, but synesthesia deftly filled my mind in delicate verdant extravagence with the Paul Verlaine poem above; more precisely, in true Symbolist fashion,the aquarelle images of the poem glow in succinct progression one after the other. It happened late afternoon today, as I was sampling Iris Ukiyoé, the ninth instalment of the Hermessence collection by in-house master perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena, at the Hermès downtown Vancouver boutique.

At this point many avid readers of Perfume Shrine—and my humble blog Les Tuileries—might just know the idiosyncrasy of the paragraph I just composed. By courtesy I should have cited Ellena’s muse, Water Iris and Grasshopper by Hokusai, and based on all official press release to date I doubt my mental short-circuit would be even considered logical by merit—but strangely enough my private recitation of the poem in hindsight is nonetheless a gentle launch pad in order to dive into the diaphanous story. Still, I should probably backtrack myself a bit and talk about how I got there, for the anecdote is probably one of the most bizarre episodes I’ve ever encountered: one could say that I was stranded in Hermès!

My tale to be told actually started this May when I requested maintenance service to my vintage khaki green Ex Libris silk scarf, since the once plump hand-rolled edges got dutifully flattened by a callous dry cleaner. It was the fourth time I went through a repair process at the downtown Vancouver boutique, and by all accounts everything was going to be routine—my sales associate sat down with me, examined the conditions of the item and filled out a specific form. Six months flew by and I figured, like all previous three times, I would simply show up and collect my treasure—in and out, ten minutes top.

Except this day, December 6th, wasn’t just a typical Monday: the intimate store was packed with patrons. My lovely sales associate Irina was in fact running around because she was in the midst of an intricate watch consultation. Ten minutes flew by before she had a chance to chat with me, “I’m so sorry, Albert! Your scarf is all ready for you.” And she turned to her colleague (who shall remain nameless for reasons that would be soon obvious) and said, “The client is here to pick up his scarf from Paris. It’s in the back storage room.” Irina promptly left, I was asked if I have my repair form with me.

Upon being told that I did not have my maintenance form with me the sales associate started raising her voice, “Just so you know, you will NEVER be able to pick up your item unless you have your form with you! Did you get a call from us?” There I was, in the middle of the showroom, with everyone looking at me! I was horrified as I explained that nobody in the past asked me to bring the form back and it was, in fact, Irina who helped me with the maintenance process last time so my identity should not be in doubt. Without the slightest pause the sales associate replied, “Very well, it’s probably best that Irina help you. Have a seat.” After expressing my desire to explore the store further the lady didn’t budge. “Have a seat.” It was then that I felt like a disobedient puppy that got thoroughly disciplined, but fortunately that was when I noticed the new Hermessence so I had something to do while waiting for Irina to come back. Five minutes went by; ten more minutes went by; another fifteen minutes went by as I immersed myself in Iris Ukiyoé, and my personal discourse with Verlaine promptly started.

To be frank I was prepared to be surprised by the opening of Iris Ukiyoé, but nothing could prepare me for the neo-classical eau de cologne effect of the fragrance opening, complete with a tart green tangerine, petitgrain, neroli—except a mildly bitter vegetal/floral axis kept the whole story on track. And lo and behold the abstract floral effect started to take shape, aided no doubt by a slight aquatic, lily-like effect that Ellena visited in Vanille Galante (2008). Now I should note that the sillage, given its combination of lily and the refreshing bitter elements, reminds me of the original Issey Miyake L’Eau d’Issey (1990), but done so in a much more delicate, precise manner, meant as an evocation of morning dew instead of a mini zen waterfall.

I would be very hard-pressed to report that orris, the traditionally powdery extraction of Iris pallida, is actively present. And my experience with Hermessence has taught me not to take any launch after Osmanthe Yunnan (2005) at face value: and since Paprika Brasil (2006) was a manifestation of spice via orris, Vanille Galante a study of vanilla from lily I presumed that this iris would come out of cocoa, as Ellena previously stated. The hypothesis, of course, is null. What we have here is an abstract blossom of Iris germanica, modern hybrids to be exact.

What most perfume brands would not tell consumers, while enamoured with the aspirational prowess of the costly orris root (with the scent best described as violet covered in chalk—works wonders when the right amount of gravitas should be called for, as classically demonstrated in Chanel No. 19 parfum), the mauve blossoms of Iris pallida smells exactly like inexpensive grape candies: quite sweet, in fact. Now the flowers themselves, which display the classic fleur-de-lys shape, are at no fault, but its harsh grape-scented accent would prove to be too strong in a fragrance.

Blossoms from the modern hybrids of I. germanica, on the other hand, are the almost exact opposite: the French word inclassable comes to mind. Based on the ones I’ve sampled a norm doesn’t exist, but most have a citrus backbone with a dash of fresh rosy nuance—soft and somewhat non-descript to be honest. (It doesn’t help that most irisarians value the bloom visuals over scent, and that the scent changes once cut.) Thus in order to create this iris Ellena needs to conjure up ghosts—a dash of non-descript floracy here (IFF’s hedione supérieure, complete with its clean jasmine facet, would be my guess), an icy rose accord there—to bring the whole thing to shape. In fact I would attribute (applying my no-doubt elementary perfumery knowledge here) the orris effect, which murmurs pretty much at the end as a velvety touch, more to a tea-like methyl ionone rather than orris absolute.

So in this sense of hologramism that I consider Iris Ukiyoé true to the original transient nature of its Japense namesake artistic genre: so fragile that it never was, because it was precisely never there in the first place. Behind each ukiyo-e print block is a Buddhist caveat: it’s a painting of the floating world, and with the next turn of the world the picture would be all that remains. Iris Ukiyoé isn’t a realistic decoding of an iris blossom fragrance, nor has that been the point all along: it’s a composition of bubbles threaded together with precision, but done with so much care and quiet observance that one forgets the mosaic tiles, instead marvelling at the hologram.

In fact it’s that exact care coming from Ellena that, at least to me, differentiates Iris Ukiyoé from mass launches: not only there’s cohesion in fragrance development, it feels as if the olfactory structure has been thoroughly hollowed out and knocked down before the whole was put together. To me this is very much a continuation of Ellena’s Hermès survey to the aquatic world ever since Un jardin après la mousson (2008), with a detour at Vanille Galante. But the story is there if one looks for it. The challenge to Ellena, of course, was to create an aquatic without using the traditional aquatic elements—Calone, musks... The master perfumer is averse to both, so a hologram on top of an iris blossom hologram. Still, underneath all that aquatic/ citrus / floral verdency lie a gentle frankness, a tenderness that reminds me of the Verlaine poem above. It’s the syntax after all, perhaps.

At this point I should recap what happened to my scarf. After 35 minutes of waiting, a third sales associate came along. Wendy—whom has seen me at the boutique for four years running now—asked me if I’ve been helped. Technically no, and I wasn’t amused…but she overheard what happened, so she quickly asked my name, dashed to the storage room and found my scarf. All done, wonderfully repaired—and true to Hermès generosity I was asked a reasonable price to compensate for the craftsmen’s effort. That’s why I’m here, I signed as I took my scarf back.

But that’s not the end of the story: Irina wrapped up her consultation around this time and apologized again for her delay. (She’s truly one of the best I’ve known.) And without hesitation she gave me samples of Iris Ukiyoé, and since the classic scarf box was out of stock a new rectangular Hermès orange box, enclosed with an additional box in the motif of Mosaique au 24 was given instead. All this was done with more apologies for the delay and the gentle explanation from Wendy that security measures would have to be performed for maintenance items. (I was promptly asked for my ID and my autograph on the official maintenance form.) Without a doubt I replied that, having been working at a major international financial institution for almost a year, while I can appreciate the thoughts behind the idea (God forbid if someone else walks away with my Hermès leather boots—and I couldn’t begin to imagine the horror any sales associate would go through if a crocodile Birkin is returned to the wrong person!) I was never told to bring my maintenance form—and the fact that I was ID-ed from the start from Irina as the right client added a whole new level of mystery to me. But at the end of the day I got everything I wanted: well, almost—I was disappointed that I couldn’t get any new silk tie and cashmere scarf because I already have had at least one of everything (that I like) from this season already. Well, better off since my drawers are already bursting with orange bags & boxes.

Would I be back? Absolutely, but maybe that latest Haut à Courroies bag custom order can wait for now. In the meantime I shall be busy experimenting with Iris Ukiyoé.

For a list of notes please refer to this link here. Iris Ukiyoé is now available at Hermès boutiques.

* English translation by Gary Bachlund

Scarves & samples pic: copyright by AlbertCAN. Bottle from the Hermes website

Byredo Encens Chempur: new fragrance

Niche brand Byredo is introducing Encens Chempur, an incense fragrance inspired by Hindu temples. Byredo already had a now hard-to-procure room spray and candle in Encens, reminiscent of Eastern and Southern European Orthodox churches. Now, they're introducing an Eau de Parfum fragrance for personal use that travels even more eastwards.
"Originally a picnic spot outside of Mumbai, Chembur is the place where Ben Gorham's mother was born and raised. Ben visited Chembur many times as a child and returned after almost 15 years to find the area developed. Lingering still, however, was the evocative incense from a Hindu temple".
Notes for Byredo Encens Chempur:
Top: Bergamot, lemon, elemi
Heart: Ginger, temple incense, nutmeg
Base: Labdanum, amber, musk
Available in 50ml Eau de Parfum bottles for 95 euros and 100ml for 140 euros. The line is complimented by a soap set (2x100gr) retailing at 35 euros, a 300ml body lotion (45 euros) and 300ml body wash (35 euros).
Info & purchase on the official Byredo site.

Tauer Bottle Giveaway & Thoughts on Perfume Writing

Andy Tauer of Tauer Parfums is having his Advent Calendar again this year for the length of December, countring down till Christmas. For the occasion he has prepared an all-naturals, all botanical limited edition fragrance, Le Cologne du Maghreb {sic} and today Perfume Shrine is honoured to host the giveaway of one 50ml (1.7oz) bottle of it to anywhere in the world*!

It is a classical cologne, with a woody baseline chord, "a firework of natural citrus notes, exploding into expensive sparkles, on a background with ambreine and cedarwood from the Moroccan High Atlas".
Like all colognes it is not made to last but it is a fragrant joy, living in the moment, leaving you with the finest veil of woods on your skin.
Ingredients: Citrus essential oils and absolutes (such as lemon, bergamot, clementine, mandarine, grapefruit, orange blossom absolute, neroli oil), rose absolute and oil, cedarwood, ambrein, cistrose and much more.
What you need to do to be eligible? Simple: Answer the question which follows this post in the comments section.


So, on with today's post! Where I bemoan the proliferation of perfume venues lately, because I feel like a fool nowadays. (NB: I'm NOT only referring to blogs, but also and mainly fora, Facebook pages, corporate sites with a blog appearence, Livejournal journals etc).
Mind you, I'm not really complaining: First of all, mine goes from strength to strength judging by numbers; and numbers don't lie. Plus I distinctly recall when five years ago there were only a handful of venues and publications in English to really read about perfume, beyond advertorials (Those who read French nevertheless always had ample material to choose from; even though it often entailed cajoling the ears with pretty stories, it also involved delving into serious & acclaimed books on the subject). Contrast with today where one is spoilt for choice and can pick what they read and where they draw their info from at the flick of a finger on the keyboard. Which is good!!
Want a shopping & new releases site? You've got it. Want a webzine with lots of contributors offering their views? There's more than one around. You want all the press releases amassed & archived? There's a data bank at your call. You want history, chemistry, opinions on the industry? You're catered for. Is there sheer awe in you in front of a "difficult" perfume and secret joy at discovering one that draws compliments? Numerous fans are there to share their own experiences and to identify with. Are you a novice searching for answers to questions? Someone did the dirty work and compiled primers.

Yet -and this is the crux of the matter- sometimes it seems everyone and their hamster is keeping a perfume journal which they share with the world, no offense to hamsters. The initiative is understandable; a new hobby injects a certain enthusiasm. What is perhaps less apparent is that so very often the echo of information that has been perhaps erroneously transferred into pixels or 0 & 1 signs (whichever way you prefer to look at it) is getting transmitted all over the universe and beyond; if Nasa's data is anything to go by. Information flows and this flow sometimes gets in the way of fact. It's one thing to entertain a rumour -as long as it's clear it's such- and another to actually transmit it as the absolute truth. Legend becomes reality and you have well-intended people criticizing an artistic video commercial for No.5 negating the Süskind-inspired idea and missing the point entirely by saying straight-faced and with conviction that No.5 was chosen for a name because it was the 5th pick by Coco from a series of mods. Who knew, right? Not me, I wasn't there. Of course, one might argue that perfume always relied on mythos. In fact its very core is its escapist quality that allows us to dream. Still, how do you differentiate? Where do you draw the line? What do you pick? And who authorised one version of this myth and not another?

Another problem with having innumerable venues for discussing perfume is that inevitably the mind tires and the eye skims. I can only read so much on any given morning, first thing before I sip the kaymak off my Turkish coffee and get down to fine tuning the details for the day's lecture. If someone who is professionally accustomed to reading exceedingly fast can't read more than a handful of sites, how can the average perfume lover who might have a boss breathing down their neck or kids dragging them around? Additionally, how can anyone comment intelligently? Whereas in the beginning discussion was conducted through comments on perfume fora and the comment section of blogs making it easier to follow syllogism & reasoning, it now seems that the discussion is conducted via blogs & venues themselves: Instead of commenting on someone else's blog or someone else's thread on a forum, people begin their own venue (their own blog, Live Journal, Facebook page etc.) and converse via them. It's not the people or the usernames doing the back & forth; it's the web pages doing it. You need a detailed manual to wade through (not to mention people are reluctant to put links & quotes to make you understand what they're talking about) and I often feel plain silly not knowing the whole background of the discussion. This polyphony -and indeed contrapuntal style- is not necessarily a bad thing; on the contrary! But it risks getting bypassed due to a flummox of words each vying for individual attention.

What do you think? What do you seek when reading about perfume?

ETA: I only now (see what I mean?) just read a post by Brian on I Smell therefore I Am (snarky & witty at the same time) which I urge you to read on this link. Thought-provoking!!

*NB: The prize will be shipped by Tauer Perfumes in Switzerland directly to the winner. The company states: "We ship to the address given to us and do not contact the addressee afterwards, nor will we use the contact information for any other purpose than sending the prize, nor will we forward the address to anybody else".

DRAW is open till Sunday 5th Dec. midnight.

Ineke Gilded Lily: fragrance review

Ineke Rühland follows a nifty idea concerning her niche brand: an ABC of fragrance so to speak, each new scent named after the next-in-line initial letter. So after some of her earlier work (reviewed here) and last year's Field Notes from Paris (click here for review), the latest fragrance is called “Gilded Lily” after G.

According to the press info which we had announced a while back: "When Ineke read about the scent of the Goldband Lily of Japan (lilium auratum), she felt compelled to order a few for her garden to study their fragrance. This note became the heart of Gilded Lily.[...] Gilded Lily’s "fruity chypre" structure opens with sparkling top notes of pineapple and rhubarb followed by the goldband lily, and closes with patchouli, oakmoss and amber".

I admit that as far as I'm concerned, Gilded Lily doesn't conjure a fruity chypre in the manner of classic Femme, Diorama, or Mitsouko to my mind (or even a contemporary fruity chypre like Esteban's Modern Chypre, YSL Yvresse or Chypre Rouge by Lutens), but rather a rather unisex floral demi-fougère. The former are peachy-plummy symphonies of creamy millefeuilles and golden light getting deflected from a window pane at the 6th arrondissement on a bright autumn afternoon when chic tailleurs are thrown in haste on a heap on the parqueted floor and ties are used as impromptu blindfolds... Gilded Lily is a cool blonde walking the streets towards the museum of Modern Art in New York City, her arms getting goosebumbs from the cool air holding a white lily with frothings of retro greenish shaving cream on its heavy petals in a papier-mâché vase, a Magritte-worthy scene.

What I mean: Although advertised as a lily chypre fragrance, I get no big lily bouquet, the kind of thing that I was used to receiving while giving piano recitals in my university days. Those were engulfing, very floral-spicy affairs and ~if inhaled too much~ they tended to give a migraine, despite their uncontested beauty. Nor do I get the dark mossy autumnal forest floor that I associate most with chypres. Gilded Lily needs no gilding in fact, nor is it particularly embellished. It's neither sweet nor too floral, but rather after a short floral-fruity top note (which is NOT like most of the mainstream swill at stores right now, thank heavens!) goes straight for a woody liqueur-like clean patchouli drydown of modern proclivities which would have men notice it and claiming as their own, even though it's touted as a feminine.
After seven fragrances Ineke emerges as possessing a distinct style of her own, a sort of "signature", which one either loves or dislikes; there's no in-between. Gilded Lily is certainly very much within that style and shares elements with other creations of hers. Fans will be pleased and the rest would know what to expect.

Gilded Lily is available as Eau de Parfum and along with the rest of Ineke's line (After My Own Heart, Balmy Days & Sundays, Chemical Bonding, Derring-Do, Evening Edged in Gold and Field Notes from Paris) are sold worldwide at the stores listed on her website, http://www.ineke.com/

Painting Les Amants by René Magritte