Nina Ricci Nina (modern): fragrance review & comparison with vintage

I always wonder whether appearances correspond to the reality, the essence of a personality and vice versa, as I am sure you do too. The duality of a person is always fascinating to unravel. And an inconsistency often contributes to a greater fascination! Whether one will tolerate one in favor of another is entirely a personal matter. Nina, the modern perfume by Nina Ricci is such a case in point. It's hard to pass her by, because she's so popular ~even the bottle design was snatched by the producers of Twilight saga films, but courts decided in favour of Ricci in the end and it's now missing in action~ but the reality is less than convincing; at least for a purist such as myself, because it delivers and it delivers satisfactorily to its intended audience which is teenage girls if sales are any indication.

Created as a perfume to evoke in ladies' minds a modern fairy tale for “all young women searching for surprise and fantasy… in a wonderland where dreams dress reality”, as the advertising tells us, it promises to be magical and enchanting, full of charm and seductiveness. Fairy tales are the escapism valves of modern hectic lifestyles and if one is so easily within one's grasp, it seems like a much healthier idea than downing a couple of pills, don't you agree?

The store when the scent launched devoted their windows: a huge silver tree was posing, with factice bottles resembling glorious red apples hanging from its branches like magical instruments of witchcraft and pieces of ivory organza interlaid on a silvery snowy ground in the middle of summer. It was beautiful…. The bottle, designed by French agency LOVE, is indeed one of the most gorgeous of recent years, paying homage to Hypnotic Poison, Lolita Lempicka and Be delicious, but managing to be more friendly that any of those and less heavy than the former two. It is also reminiscent of another great bottle that has launched a few seasons ago, Delices de Cartier. Made of transparent glass and silver metal it becomes raspberry red by the inclusion of the bright-hued juice. On the top, silver leaves crown an ergonomic sprayer that sprays a fine mist.

The fragrance itself is touted as the brand's single most important release in 10 years, after several trials that didn’t take off as expected: Premier Jour and its variations – let’s face it- never took off (the same goes for Les Belles de Ricci, 3 interesting variations in similar bottles, long discontinued) although it’s a likeable perfume and the name of Nina Ricci has remained in its dove garlanded laurels for too long.

The modern Nina was composed by noses Olivier Cresp (the nose behind Angel, revamped Femme by Rochas and Noa) and Jacques Cavallier (of Eau d’Issey, Feu d’Issey, Ferragamo woman and Poeme fame) of Firmenich "with the Asian consumer in mind". I am not sure if by Asian they mean Chinese, Japanese, Thai people etc. (i.e. Far East) or they mean Middle-East and India, but the perfume could accommodate both tastes being tied with neither tradition or culture. The brand was simply hoping to strengthen their appeal in the international fragrance market and in particular in Asia, which is the emerging giant of consumerism.

Nina has a hard act to follow: Nina Ricci was one of the most popular couturiers in the mid-20th century fashion scene. Born in Turin in January 1883 she started as a highly talented apprentice, before devoting herself entirely to design.
She formed a partnership with her only son Robert in order to open her own Haute Couture house at 20, Rue des Capucines, in Paris. Her effort paid off well in quick success and just before the war the NINA RICCI firm occupied 11 floors and its workshops were filled with 450 workers.
Madame Ricci had a flair for highlighting the personality of her clients, resulting in very becoming dresses. She always favoured femininity over trends and elegance over dare. Ricci tried her hand in perfume making with the iconic spicy floral L’air du Temps, a fantasia of delicate undertones and tender warmth encased in the gorgeous Lalique bottle with the pair of doves on the stopper, that has been worn by our dearest and nearest for years. It managed to inspire numerous mysterious florals, Fijdi and Anais Anais being two of those and it became a bestseller in many countries, managing to sell one bottle every 3 minutes somewhere around the world! Alas, it has been so tampered with in its present version, as to render whiffs of it disappointing, failing to bring back the images of those loving female figures in our lives. A pity…
Farouche and Coeur Joie are another two legendary Nina Ricci perfumes that remain in the confines of the vast vault of on-line auction shopping...

Robert Ricci , however, Nina’s son, created or rather art-directed the original NINA perfume, a powdery floral with fruits and woodsy, green notes in homage to his late mother in 1987. Very recent in perfume terms... The experiment was very successful artistically, however the business end was not met satisfactorily, resulting in a semi-retirement of the old version, which is not available anymore.

The new Nina bears absolutely no resemblance to the older one, but the identical name surely causes trouble to the consumer and confuses those who like to order things on the phone or on-line. To compare modern and vintage Nina, whereas the old version was an affair of traditional elegance with a rich sparkle of aldehydes in the opening and a green chypre accord that was quite popular in the 1980’s ( if one considers the success of Diva by Ungaro), the new one is very different: The overall effect of the older version was delicately powdery and it smelled the way all perfumes smell in a young child’s mind: sophisticated, fabricated, not found in nature. It used costly ingredients that managed to evolve and mingle with one another in trails of white light.
The modern Nina is predictably a fruity floral with a gourmand touch. It opens on a very pleasing initial note of hesperidic crisp fruits that cascade off the bottle in rapid succession: lemon, bergamot, mandarin and especially lime"Caipirinha" (its approximation in non alcoholic form at least). The effect is sharp and surprisingly uplifting, like that of another pleasing fruity floral: Gucci Eau de parfum II (the lilac-pink juice in the heavy crystal lid square bottle), minus the berries.
The heart accord of red toffee apple with moonflower (an abnormality of nature, a new breed after a tornado at the Mohave desert, from what I recall from The Body Shop version) and peony is nicely balanced, quite sweet for comfort though, with a little vanillic veil that heralds the base of white cedar and cotton musk. That last ingredient alludes to lab work that produces the bulk of synthetic musks today. It manages to smell soft and enveloping, with an average tenacity on the skin, although on the blotter the candy and cedarwood effect are what remains mostly after the more effervescent notes have vanished. The drydown is vaguely reminiscent of the base of Mugler’s Innocent , a perfume variant on the Angel recipe without the patchouli, more orientalised/gourmand than Nina, surely, but with the same praline afterthought; of the two I vastly prefer the Mugler iteration.

Overall, it will disappoint those who expected something similar to the older version, and get the spirits up of those who love the fruity floral semi-gourmand recipe, although I can’t bring myself to say I love it and the genre has overstayed its welcome for faaaaar too long. The bottle however is another story…


The modern Nina is available in eau de parfum at major department stores.
The advertising commercial includes the late Russian model Ruslana Korshunova.

L'Artisan Parfumeur collection Mon Numero by Bertrand Duchaufour: Scents Missing in Action Reappear in New Clothing

L’Artisan Parfumeur’s new collection Mon Numéro created by Bertrand Duchaufour features 8 moods, 8 numbers, 8 destinations and I was intrigued by one detail: . The collection will be on the market around the world in June, with specific numbers launched exclusively in different markets. Do I see Le Labo shades or am I delusional? It seems that L'Artisan Parfumeur is in some sort of creative orgasm with many launches recently, but they're also bent on retaining their exclusivity cachet that "made" them as one of the original niche brands. And in order to do that, now that the house is much better known to much more people, the practice of city-exclusives. It remains to be seen if the denied offer will drive up the demand.


L'Artisan promises that each scent features the highest quality raw materials that would evolve into a certain richness on the skin. The descriptions of the fragrances in the Mon Numéro collection are enticing enough all right, if cryptic, but I fail to see the novelty factor: they already sport a zingy cologne (Eau de l'Artisan), an iris (Iris Pallida), a vetiver (Coeur de Vetiver Sacre) in their regular line... So what's so special this time around?
What's even odder is that the collection was announced in 2009, but it's only now that wider distribution is set to materialise. The fragrances are also repackaged: the new bottles follow the classic, typical L'Artisan style with the hexagonal caps and identical labels in deep chocolate. So why the belated release and why the repackaging? I'm jotting down guesses.

N°1 is a bold seductive fragrance fresh and fruity with pear and mimosa. Delightful !

N°3 recalls the intoxicating notes of an alcoholic drink, with sober, elegant notes of vetiver. Elegant and virile.

N°4 is a fog of memories, in the barber’s shop… Lavender… So familiar !

N°6 celebrates the rebirth of planet earth, a travel after moosoon, with green, floral, fruity aquatic notes

N°7 evokes a day in India, with Chai Tea, Jasmin and Tuberose softened by Sandalwood. With a whiff of spices.

N°8 powder, iris… Paying tribute to a great classic of perfumery…Classic and chic.

N°9 awakes the senses. A subtle cologne, zesty, crispy, with tangerine and citrus on a musky elegance on the background…

N°10 the addictive oriental with eccentric notes.

The winners of the draw...

...for Tauer's newest creation are: Tarleisio, civava, waftbyCarol.

...for Amouage sample sprayer is a.k.a. Warum.

Congrats and please email me with your data, using the email in my Profile or About page, so I can send get these out in the mail to you soon!
Thanks for the enthusiastic participation everyone and till the next one.

Perfumery Materials: Pyrazines, Burnt/Caramelised/Maple Notes

One of the new trends that's gaining momentum as we speak is the one focusing on slightly "burnt", caramelised, overcooked notes that are remininscent of toast, sticky brunt toffee or maple-laced warm milk; a darker shade of gourmand if you will! Suffice to take a look at Jeux de Peau by Serge Lutens (shades of fresh toast) or Sensuous Noir by Estée Lauder (a crème brulée almost taste under the patchouli), not forgetting Minuit Noir by Lolita Lempicka which follows the path where L de Lempicka left off. Gourmand fragrances (a subset of orientals focusing on foodie notes) aren't going anywhere; even genuine gourmet food companies are issuing their own fragrances, if Payard is anything to go by. But a more nuanced, more sophisticated approach is ushering in, hooking up even die-hard purists.

But which materials are responsible for these flavours, these seemingly off-notes that nevertheless entice our taste buds as much as our intelligence?

One category is pyrazines, organic compounds with a ring structure of at least two elements. Naturally occuring in a variety of foodstuff (such as green peppers but also peas; plus they're used to enhance the "roast" factor of coffee and cured meats and to enhance the flavour of potato salad). In fragrance terms Lutens and Chris Sheldrake manipulated the roasted aroma of pyrazines into a composition that enhances the comfort factor with creamy sandalwood: eh voilà, Jeux de Peau was born!


Other molecules that render indispensable gourmand notes are:

Maltol or 3-hydroxy-2-methyl-4-pyrone...C₇H₈O_{3
.............................}
Although we have come to consider Ethylmaltol (see below) the standard "cotton candy" (candy floss) note of reference in perfumery, maltol is a naturally occuring chemical that can been found in chicory, cocoa, coffee, roasted malt, bread or even strawberry and which gives this spun caramelized effect we have come to associate with fair grounds.
Ethyl Maltol or 3-hydroxy-2-ethyl-4-pyrone...C₈H₁₀O_{3 ..............................}
Ethyl Maltol is the ethyl analog of Maltol, of course, but this time the molecule is synthesized in the lab and is not to be found in nature: hence the boosted effect; almost 500% more than simple maltol!
Smell Thierry Mugler's Angel, the trendsetter of ethylmaltol and patchouli orientals ~with a nod to childhood~ from 1992 and be prepared to be blown away by its potent spun sugar, cotton candy note!

Furaneol^(R) or 2,5-Dimethyl-4-hydroxy-3(2H)furanone ..C₆H₈O_{3
..........................}
This is a molecule which was taught to samba from the craddle: it naturally contributes largely into the chemical make-up of several tropical fruit (guava, lychee, pineapple) as well as other less exotic ones (strawberry, raspberry, tomato). The fact that it is used in roasted products as well (such as corn tacos, roasted almonds, popped pop-corn or roasted coffee) contributes to its perception as a "roasting" note. I hypothesize that it's at the heart of Dior's Miss Dior Chérie, a composition based on the tension between strawberry and freshly cooked pop-corn.

Cyclotene or 3-Methyl-2-cyclopenten-2-ol-l-one ..C₆H₈O_{2
..........................}
With Cyclotene we enter the maple section of notes: Although fenugreek solid extract is used to render a maple-suryp note (indeed it was the only extract source of caramel-maple notes till the discovery of these other ingredients), actual maple suryps are further aromatized with Cyclotene; thus creating the vivid association of the molecule's odour with our perception of how maple suryp smells like! Is it maple that smells of Cyclotene or Cyclotene that smells of maple? Naturally occuring in fenugreek seeds, it's also very common today in roasted sugary products such as coffee desserts, licorice sweets, desserts with roasted almonds and, apart from fenugreek seeds, it also occurs in cocoa and coffee.

Sotolon or 4,5-Dimethyl-3-hydroxy-2(5H)-furanone..C₆H₈O_{3
..........................}
Sotolon is the key ingredient in roasted fenugreek seed and brown sugar, which is as yummy a combination as any, hence its reference as "caramel furanone" or "sugar lactone" as well as "fenugreek lactone". When it's really concentrated, it takes on curry-like tonalities while on lower concentrations it can stay within the "caramelised sugar on the pan" range of odour.
But Sotolon also possesses notes that match boozy tonalities, as it's occuring in sake, rice wine, and botrytized wine. Remember the niche fragrance Botrytis by Ginestet, meant to reproduce the "noble rot" of a fungus on the Sauternes grapes? It's got Sotolon in it, blending the pain d' épices, candied fruits and honey notes into one seamless blend.
Although Sotolon is thousands of times more powerful than Cyclotene, the modern flavours industry is using the even more powerful maple furanone (one of the most potent flavor chemicals known to man) , this time for the enhancement of the flavour of soy sauce. Thankfully, this ingredient hasn't bombasted commercial fragrances yet, but who knows what the future holds.


Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Immortelle/Helichrysum: golden sunshine of the Med , Perfumery's Raw Materials

Ref: Leffingwell Photo of maple syrup by Martin Eager

Perfume and the Perfumed: When Icon & Fragrance Delightfully Clash

Imagine the jaws dropped when Christina Hendricks, the one of voluptuous bosom, retro colouring and glamorous role in Mad Men, the cult TV-series, revealed some of her favourite things on People magazine, naming a fragrance among them: The fragrance was Premier Figuier by L'Artisan Parfumeur, a fig fragrance. It's quite usual to think of perfume in the way of a glamour accessory meant to evoke a specific image, but how can this astound us when a perceived connotation of a specific fragrance is shattered by its actual use; especially when it is by someone famous which we envisioned a specific way. For many seasons fans of the series imagined Hendricks oozing sex-appeal in something that was come-hither and ripe of the seductress, in the context of a 1960s classy one, not withstanding.

It's an automatic reflex to think of fragrance as a very specific symbol of self, the most pliable perhaps of all, since it does not evolve neither a sanctimonious financial overlay (like a condo would), nor an extreme make-over. Spray and you're good to go; or so the thinking goes. After all, we have been told that a fragrance wardrobe should be our goal, fitting scent to time & place and to outfit, not to mention our mood.

What happened with the above scenario is that we had pegged Christina a certain way: the curvaceous glamour puss and we -more or less- refuse to believe that she is a living, breathing woman with tastes of her own who chooses an outdoorsy, intelligent scent that is reproducing something that is not meant specifically for seduction, but for one's self. It might have helped that we saw a shot of Christina as Joan Holloway (office manager of the advertising agency Sterling Cooper) in front of a mirror preening, applying lipstick, with an array of glamorous bottles in front of her, one of which was the seductive Shalimar by Guerlain in one of the stills from the TV-program. Premier Figuier has its own special sex appeal, but it lacks the edge that a certain mythos over the decades has given to Shalimar. We have come to associate the actress with the role of the sassy femme fatale, as if she is incarcerated in her DD-cup and her cinched waists, smart reply hanging on rouged lips. And yet, her style is not without substance. On the contrary. But like in many cases of projecting a certain image in olfactory terms, it's another example where the mold is broken and we raise an eyebrow in surprise.



I hear similar pronouncements all the time perusing some of my favourite perfume-discussing boards: "Jackie Kennedy Onassis was the epitome of elegance, it all fits she wore Joy and Jicky". (But not only!) "Maria Callas was so loyal to Chanel, she must have worn No.5, her style was so timeless." (We'll never know for sure though the hypothesis holds water) "I can picture a chypre perfume on Katharine Hepburn". (and yes, she scored one or two, but not only!).

In our above exercise, Peggy Olson would wear the cool, brainy chypre fragrance. "Keira Knightley must have an endless crate of Coco Mademoiselle, oh look here, she says she only wore men's scents before!" (absolutely not true). Madame Sarkozy, previously known as Carla Bruni, is an Italian aristocrat who modelled for a hobby, so it fits she would wear something with a pedigree of taste and quality. (voila, indeed!).

I had the easiest time while composing my Vetiver Series picturing each and every one of the vetiver fragrances featured on the visage of some male actor (even though they did not necessarily wear said fragrance in real life): smart and facially rugged Hugh Laurie, alluring and insinuating Jeremy Irons, straightfoward old-school Gerald Butler, virile and seemingly cocksure Russell Crowe, suave but enigmatic Ralph Fiennes. Was I guilty of free-associating thanks to no more than the persona they project? Most certainly.


To cut a long story short, celebrities choose what they choose for various reasons, one of the lesser or grudgingly admitted ones being that they are people like us with their own set of criteria, tastes, memories and dislikes. But try to take that out of our heads? Not so easy...

And on to YOU: Are you guilty of associating specific fragrances to specific people and why? Share your thoughts in the comments!

*Note on picture of Christina Hendricks as Joan in Mad Men bathroom scene in front of perfume display: The AMC photo is from Season 3, Episode 3: “Guy Walks Into an Advertising Agency”. The fragrances tray includes for sure Houbigant's Demi Jour, a Lauder bottle (same shape as the later Estee but it's probably Youth Dew) and Intimate by Revlon.

Christina Hendricks photos via wikimedia commons, Huffington Post and Haircutting in High Heels