Floris, after Madonna of the Almonds, proposes a new fragrance, based on a romantic concept: Amaryllis. The name, common for girls in both Greek and Latin-derived languages, comes from the Greek word ἀμαρύσσω which means "to shine, to sparkle" and is referenced in Theophrastus' Idylls tied to a beautiful shepherdess and later in Virgil's pastoral 1st Eclogue/Bucolic, as a singing wanderer of the woods. The fragrance itself, a spicy ambery floral, is inspired according to Floris by the romantically rural theme and focuses on the botanic connotation, which is beladonna lily (which interestingly enough means "beautiful lady" in Italian). But the devolution of the botanical name of the flower into "pink ladies" and "naked ladies" has surely something to do with the pastoral themes of youths teaching the forest to resound the name Amaryllis ("Sit careless in the shade, and, at your call, 'Fair Amaryllis' bid the woods resound") and of rolling merrily on the grass...
And how should the upcoming Floris Amaryllis smell like?
Notes for Amaryllis by Floris Top notes: Bergamot, carnation, marine accord Heart notes: frankincense, amaryllis, myrh, tuberose, ylang ylang Base notes: Caramel, heliotrope, patchouli, musk, tonka bean, vanilla
One of my favourite readers, Minette of Scent Signals, sent me the following link which guides us down to the London...sewers! The Guardian video follows Rob Smith, head flusher at Thames Water, who explains how 'fat bergs' (amalgamations of illegally dumped cooking oil and wet wipes) are the culprits for frequent blockage and even flooding. But some more pleasant emanations are still possible, as he attests!
Not a pleasant subject on the whole you might say, even though those sewers have inspired writers Robotham, Gaiman and Updale (Lost, Neverwhereand Montmorencyseries respectively) as well as video games, with their dark and sinister atmosphere. But the interesting thing is that the London sewer system goes back to the Victorian Age. In the 1850s over 400000 tonnes of sewage were flushed into the River Thames each day, thus rendering the river biologically dead. The ...stinky culmination came in the summer of 1858, during which the smell of untreated human waste was extraordinarily potent in central London, forever giving the time frame the nickname "the Great Stink" and reinforcing the theory of "miasmatic air" as a cause for cholera to last well until at least the 1880s, when Koch re-discovered the bacterium responsible for the disease. (The predominance of the theory of the air carrying miasmata through odours is well documented in Alain Corbin's book The Fragrant and the Foul). Soon Joseph Bazalgette was commissioned chief engineer to oversee the construction of the new London sewage system in 1859.
The London sewers are stratographed in regions of class demarcations, nevertheless; certainly a distinction obvious in British society in general in the past, less so now, except for the respective...effluvium, so to speak. The fearless in the eye of dirt Rob Smith describes the emanations that bypass methane for a more pleasant odour as those coming from the "affluent effluent" ~the stuck remnants of perfumed body oils and bath washes which are used by the richer folks; certain areas smell of expensive oils that carry their aromatic heritage down the drain... The London sewage system holds a special fascination apparently, a mix of the Gothic tradition with the metamodern V for Vendetta flair for underground scheming: With such names of "hot spots" as Devil's Gate, Itself, Labyrinth, and Rubix, is it any wonder perfume managed to sneak in there too?
Next post will be a review & lucky draw for a new niche perfume. Stay tuned! sketch of Faraday and Father Thames via wikimedia commons
In an article in the New York Times, penned by Catherine Saint Louis, we learn which fragrances made it and which tanked last year, according to the NPD Group market research team. Oddly enough the text reads like a nicely placed endorsement instead of a critical commentary one would expect on the results, but of course the scope of the article never was to criticize, merely to report. Additionally, it's mentioned that "Final annual tallies from NPD won’t be available until later this month". So why the rush dear?
The most important feature is this quote however:
"Ms. Grant dared to hope for “at least a flat year,” which would be an improvement, she said, considering that “fragrance has pretty much been in decline, except for a few years with celebrity fragrances” since 2001."
So which were the big sellers? In the mainstream circuit, they were:
Gucci Guilty
Chanel Chance Eau Tendre
Bleu de Chanel (apparently the biggest men's premiere in Bloomingdale's ever)
Ralph Lauren Big Pony collection
May I say yawn, at this point...
The celebrity fragrances were many (as usual, especially in view of the above quote) but apparently they didn't do that well, Beyonce's Heat mentioned in those. It's a bit contradictory to what was circulated at the moment of launch, when Heat was quoted as being a "fly off the shelves" item that was unprecedented. Hmmm.....
The other interesting thing that begs for commentary is Jennifer Aniston's celebrity perfume, initially hailed as Lola Vie (LOL@vie, if you're slow on the up-taking) and then changed into simply Aniston . Everyone is reporting that it didn't sell well, it flopped etc. Now, where's the catch? It's definitely not a reflection on Jennifer's popularity which remains as strong as ever. It's simple really: Aniston, the fragrance, was launched as an exclusive at Harrod's in the UK who didn't ship outside the country, thus effectively cutting off the core audience of Jennifer (America) from access to the product that would first and foremost appeal to them! The rationale behind such a distribution move remains to be seen, as Aniston did make it all the way to London to appear to the launch, hugging the bottle in rapture, apparently oblivious to what would ensue.
Best-selling fragrances in the niche sector (according to Barney's and Aedes)?
Byredo M/Ink
Bois 1920 Classic
Santa Maria Novella Melograno
Gendarme original cologne
Aedes de Venustas by L'Artisan
F.Malle Portrait of a Lady
Somehow, I don't think the rather iconoclastic minerals & musks M/Ink or the intricately complex Aedes de Venustas fragrance can be viewed in the same light as Gendarme, or Portrait of a Lady, which cater to more traditional tastes. But this is what has been reported all the same. Melograno is such an old niche mainstay that I can't but think these are repeat buyers.
As to trands to look out for in fragrance for 2011? The continuation of oud in the mainstream, more flankers coming up (one for Marc Jacob's Daisy for sure), the resurgence of powder (according to Karen Dubin of Sniffapalooza and her love of...Love, Chloé) and the return of ThreeASFOUR by Colette (a concept perfume).
Originally thought out by perfumer Jean-Louis Sieuzac* (of Opium fame), is it any wonder Dior's Dune smells more like the warmed up sand where lush Venus-like bodies have lain in sweet surrender rather than the athletic Artemis/Diana figures which aquatic/oceanic ("sports") fragrances ~the classification in which the house puts it~ would suggest? The French have been known to prefer Venus over Diana in their artistic depictions over the centuries anyway. It's perhaps unjust and a sign of the celebrity-obsessed times that this Aphrodite of a scent is recurring into the scene because word has leaked out recently that Kate Middleton wore it as a signature scent when she was a student.
But at least it might give newcomers into the cult of perfume a chance to experience one of the lesser known Dior fragrances: Curiously enough, for something that has stayed in the market for 19 years and belongs to the LVMH portfolio, Dune, apart from a men's version Dune for Men of course with its tonka beat backdrop, has no flankers...
*[Although Jean-Louis Sieuzac proposed the formula, his submission was rejected by the Christian Dior perfumes head of development at the time. It took a modification by perfumer Nejla Bsiri Barbir (working at Parfumania) which sealed the deal and got Dune on the shelves in the end...]
Dior's Dune is a case study not only in the house's illustrious stable (scroll our Dior Series), but in the perfume pantheon in general: The zeitgeist by 1991, when the fragrance was issued, demanded a break with the shoulder-pads and moussed-up hair of the 1980s which invaded personal space alongside bombastic scents announcing its wearer from the elevator across the hall...or -in some memorable cases- across the adjoining building three weeks after the wearer had passed through its halls! The advent of ozonic-marines was on as a form of air freshening (and a subliminal chastity belt to attack towards the AIDS advent) and L'Eau d'Issey, interestingly issued exactly one year after Dune, was paving the path that New West by Aramis had started a few years ago. Where the Japanese aesthetic for restraint put forth mental images of limpid water lillies by the drop of water on a sparse zen bottle of brushed aluminum & frosted glass, the French were continuing their seductive scenery: the model was all prostrate on a sandy beach, the colour of antique pink silk underwear hinting at fleshy contours, eyes closed, giagantic eyelashes batting slowly, reminiscent of broom stems, a world capsized into a sphere of tranquility... Interestingly it's also routinely fronted by blonde beauties, suggesting there is an oriental for them apart from the flamenco-strewn dark-haired territory other classic fragrances have mapped out so well. Lately advertising images for Dune sadly capitulated into the slicked, oiled-up bodies that infest other Dior fragrance advertisments, but I prefer to keep the original ones in my mind.
Perfume taxonomist Michael Edwards recounts how the heads at Christian Dior wanted to create a "marine type" of fragrance but without the harsh ozonic notes that were catapulting the market at the time. The original idea was a monastery's garden by the coast, herbal and aromatic.
To do the trick they relied on both a clever construction (which was more "smoky oriental" than "marine") and some ingenious, suggestive marketing to compliment it later.
The imagery was easier to devise, although not easy to pull off exactly as planned: The packaging was an inviting hue of peachy, as was the colour of the juice, to suggest femininity and soft flesh, while the star ingredient that suggested beachy slopes and wild growth, broom (what the French call genet) was featured on the advertising images in an effort to reinforce the suggestion of wild beaches of escapist delights. The seaside town of Biarritz, where the official launch was scheduled, gathering a huge amount of press professionals, was practically painted peach to echo the livery. A chic picnic on the beach was set to kickstart the festivities. But someone had forgotten a small detail in the mix (or was he/she nonchalant enough the European way not to check it out?). It was a nudist beach...
The composition is never too clever by half, it's intelligent: The dissonant opening impression of Dior's Dune relies on a bitterish interplay between the tarriness of lichen ~alongside the distinct bracken feel of broom (in reality deertongue goes into the formula)~ with the sweeter oriental elements of the base. It's almost harsh! The phenolic, after all, is never more aptly played than when juxtaposed with a sweetish note (such as in natural honey in the form of phenolic acids), as exhibited to great effect by Bvlgari's Blackwhich was to follow at the end of the 1990s. The intelligence of Sieuzac nevertheless lied into injecting a "marine" fragrance with exactly the element that no one would expect from an oceanic-evoking landascape: warm oriental powder! If you lean closely, the top stage of Dune with its bitterish tendencies almost immediately gives way to a dry impression that almost recalls gusts of powder, but missing completely the candied violet-rose & makeup feel of the mainstays of feminine guiles, powder puffs. The official notes proclaim orris, but the effect is due to carrot seed (often used as a replication of the earthy, powdery undergrowth). This is a fragrance that is conceived as an extension of the boudoir into the outdoors, not an accoutrement out of it.
The warm amber (but not too sweet) and the musk base is there too under the other elements, almost like fig-filled biscuits rolled into floral tanning lotion. In fact I believe the Dior Bronze "summer fragrance" called Sweet Sun, was directly inspired by Dune. But the diaphanous interpretation of Dune allows it to pose as borderline "fresh". Almost "natural". Someone described it as "flesh-toned in the creepy way of artificial limps, not real ones", continuing into pronouncing it "marvellous" and "the bleakest beauty in all perfumery", and this Plastic Venus off the Waves stands indeed on a unique podium amidst the whole of modern perfumery: There's simply nothing quite like it.
Notes for Dior Dune: Top:bergamot, mandarin, palisander, aldehyde, peony, rosewood and broom Heart: jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, lily, wallflower, lichen, orris. Base: vanilla, patchouli, benzoin, sandalwood, amber, oakmoss, and musk.
The Eau de Toilette is my preferred concentration in this scent, possessing in greater degree the jarring elements which make Dune so very interesting to begin with. There is also an alcohol-free version for use in the sun, called Dune Sun, but as usual with alcohol-less versions, it lacks much staying power.
The derisive L'Eau Serge Lutens (find our review and musings on these pages) now comes in a smaller size for those who want to try it or carry it on the go: 50ml for 69 euros. Available online.
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And how should the upcoming Floris Amaryllis smell like?
Not a pleasant subject on the whole you might say, even though those sewers have inspired writers Robotham, Gaiman and Updale (Lost, Neverwhere and Montmorency series respectively) as well as video games, with their dark and sinister atmosphere. But the interesting thing is that the London sewer system goes back to the Victorian Age. In the 1850s over 400000 tonnes of sewage were flushed into the River Thames each day, thus rendering the river biologically dead. The ...stinky culmination came in the summer of 1858, during which the smell of untreated human waste was extraordinarily potent in central London, forever giving the time frame the nickname "the Great Stink" and reinforcing the theory of "miasmatic air" as a cause for cholera to last well until at least the 1880s, when Koch re-discovered the bacterium responsible for the disease. (The predominance of the theory of the air carrying miasmata through odours is well documented in Alain Corbin's book The Fragrant and the Foul). Soon Joseph Bazalgette was commissioned chief engineer to oversee the construction of the new London sewage system in 1859.
But at least it might give newcomers into the cult of perfume a chance to experience one of the lesser known Dior fragrances: Curiously enough, for something that has stayed in the market for 19 years and belongs to the LVMH portfolio, Dune, apart from a men's version Dune for Men of course with its tonka beat backdrop, has no flankers...
Perfume taxonomist Michael Edwards recounts how the heads at Christian Dior wanted to create a "marine type" of fragrance but without the harsh ozonic notes that were catapulting the market at the time. The original idea was a monastery's garden by the coast, herbal and aromatic. 
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