Creed Vanisia: fragrance review

Vanisia by Creed does not smell like pure unadulterated vanilla as the name would lead you to believe, thank heavens. It reminds me more of a lighter Égoïste by Chanel if that one put the sandalwood into the boudoir and puffed it and puffed it with lots of ambery rose-jasmine powder that gives a golden shimmer over mounty breasts. T

The resinous depths of its core, a complex and satisfyingly rich amber accord, recall the play between light and darkness in the paintings of the Spanish masters; dramatic expanses of vivid motion, shadowy corners that hide small details with significance that doesn't pass unnoticed. The double whammy of a misleading name and the wrong company (few houses are more derisive!) just conspired it to make it a very under the radar fragrance. Which is exactly why I decided to get the scalpel and start surgery on this page.

The "barbershop" effect makes its presence known in Vanisia via a faint lavender note (a classic combination, best appreciated in Pour Un Homme by Caron which is almost solely lavender and vanilla) as well as what smells like cedar, which makes it wearable for men as well.

Women will naturally gravitate to it for its sexy factor, best appreciated in the depths of the base notes, although I need to stress that you need to be a lover of ambers to appreciate it. It's quite powdery in a mature, retro way, with hints of soap as well, an oxymoron amidst the sultry tonalities that remind classic references with more than a hint of ambery"skank" such as Bal a Versailles and Tabu. Lovers of Guerlain Samsara might also find a complex beast to like and claim as their own. But they should be warned that it smells unashamedly mature, probably best reserved for those who already have other youth-ammunition under their belt; this is not a "spritz me with grapefruit and let me fool you into believing I'm 7 years younger" gimmicky. It's said by Creed that Cher likes this one and wears it: figures...

I am personally a little bit at odds with Vanisia: On the one hand I like the tempered amber character that doesn't imbue everything with a sticky candy floss note and includes that familiar ambergris Creed base. On the other hand I find there is some incongruence between the after-shave accord on top and the floral oriental core. Lately I have been unlucky into coming across bottles that seemed to be a little off, metallic and more "masculine" than I recall the scent to be. I am not sure if we're facing a reformulation or not (the tester bottles didn't look pristine brand new) or if there is fake stock circulating, which is surely the case for other Creeds. It would be interesting to hear from you in the comments if you have other experiences with that matter.

Vanisia was launched in 1987, supposedly for a Spanish queen, and is mostly unknown/unacknowledged till this day, although one of their more rounded fragrances.

Notes for Creed Vanisia:
Top: bergamot
Heart: jasmine and Bulgarian rose
Base: sandalwood, amber and vanilla

Painting The Parasol by Francisco de Goya.

Mother's Day Last Minute Gifts Guide

We are reminded of the true beauty of a mother in her touch, her kindness, her smile, her eyes, her voice, and even her smell. Celebrate your (or your own) mom’s special day with gifts that leave a special fingerprint, your own.

What most romantic (but also practically last-minute) gift is there than a fragrant bouquet of fresh flowers? Dating back to Greek mythology, the iris comes in a variety of colors, but the most popular is the deep blue variety. Irises symbolize admiration & courage, traits especially familiar to mothers. If you also make your own card (easier than it sounds following these steps) it's guaranteed she will be thrilled!

Ormonde Jayne presented their new bath soap scented with Osmanthus a little while ago as discussed on these pages before. The soaps are impeccably crafted, triple milled and hard milled which gives them their fine consistency and lather, ensuring their shape is kept till the end. The uplifting scent of Osmanthus is infused into the soaps to give a perfect spring day whatever the weather. A fabulous present for your mother…or to ask your family for yourself!

Available at the official Ormonde Jayne e-boutique.

Coral is big this spring and what best than some fragrance inspired by corals, such as Corallium by Italian niche brand Carthusia with its aromatic bay laurel and sage tones over Mediterranean fruits (bergamot and mandarin), flowers, and smoky woods roughened by sea air. If you want to go grand, you can add makeup items: Coral suits a variety of complexions if done sheer and weightless. Dior Addict Lipstick in Bobo #530 is a sheer coral shade ($28, at www.nordstrom.com) while Lancome Ultra Lavande Collection in Coral Crush ($48, www.neimanmarcus.com) should compliment with 5 shades that give a luminous eye look.

21 Drops, a line of all-natural, pre-blended therapeutic-grade essential oils come under $30 and just might do the trick for stressed out mothers. Co-founded by Cary Caster (a mother and clinically certified aromatherapist,) the blends are created to counteract the effects of our thoroughly busy lives, with an easy roller-ball application and convenient durable case, each blend is designed for use anytime, anywhere.

De-Stress – Blended from frankincense, lavender, ylang ylang and german chamomile, the #11 De-Stress blend helps to steady nerves, reduce tension and reduce stress on the limbic system. The oils in this blend are effective in countering situational irritation and angst and promote emotional flexibility. De-Stress helps you to stay cool under fire, encouraging graciousness and diplomacy, balance and decisiveness.

Invigorate – Blended from cedarwood, rosemary, black pepper and juniper, the #01 Invigorate blend helps to stimulate circulation, motivate and energize. These warming oils help oxygenate the blood and promote blood flow, which in turn energizes the body.

Sleep – Blended from sandalwood, ylang ylang, palmarosa and vetiver, the #18 Sleep blend helps to sedate, soothe and quiet. The oils in this blend work on the nervous system to hush a racing anxious mind and settle states of restlessness and agitation.

Priced at $28 each and available at www.21drops.com, these blends are the perfect gift for any mom on-the-go!

Another pampering idea for stressed moms comes from all naturals indie perfumer Ayala Moriel: Bath salts in fragrant varieties for a most relaxing soak. She recommends Hinoki Ritual: "These ritual bath salts are scented with hinoki (Japanese Cypress), shiso leaf and seaweed essential oils! It will make you feel as if you are bathing in a traditional wooden bath in Japan and make your bathing ritual special and relaxing".

I would also propose Geranium which was indeed created especially for Mother's Day 2009: "These beautiful bath salts are a real treat for mom's bath. Scented with rose geranium, Egyptian geranium, vanilla, begramot and a touch of myrrh these bath salts are sweet, soothing and luxurious.
Tin contains the bath salts (500gr) and a wooden scoop to pour into the water and the price at 46$CAN is very fetching.

Last but not least, Roxana Villa of Illuminated Perfume is promoting her daughter's and her friend's headbands project: You can find more on this link from Roxana's blog and catch the video.

Blue irises pic via Moon Stars and Paper

May 1st, Lily of the Valley day: DSH Muguet de Mai & Muguet Cologne & draw!

A lucky symbol ~it means “return of happiness” in the language of flowers~ the delicate beauty of lily of the valley is however poisonous (especially its reddish fruit) due to convallatoxine, convallamarine, and convallarine; a brave irony on the part of Creation! Lily of the valley or muguet in French (Convallaria majalis) is a herbaceous perennial plant prevalent in Asia, Europe and the Eastern USA, with characteristic bell-shaped little flowers, hence its other name May Bells. In France it is customary to give a posy of lilies of the valley on May 1st as a porte-bonheur. This is probably why French residing author Edith Wharton chose lily of the valley as the embodiment of her heroine May Welland in The Age of Innocence, as referenced in more detail in our article about perfume in novels.

Indie perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz has launched two lily of the valley fragrances to celebrate May 1st, Muguet de Mai for women and Muguet Cologne for men; or, as the mood strikes you, interchangeably. They're both light enough and delicious enough to be enjoyed by both sexes. The idea began by Trish who was curious about a botanical lily of the valley note and Dawn was set to task for this diffucult project: You see, lily of the valley does not yield its precious essence satisfactorily enough for perfumery! The problem has perplexed perfumers for long, ending up in LOTV recompositions, the most renowned being Diorissimo by Edmond Roudnitska for Christian Dior. Roudnitska even went so far as to grow his own lily of the valley in his garden and stooping to smell attentively the tiny blossoms at bloom and the soil underneath so as to capture the true essence of the elusive flower. I also love the real-life yet delicate feel of Del Rae Debut, incidentally composed by Michel Roudnitska, Edmond's son.

Dawn began by imagining how she would come up with a viable solution and tested several mods, out of which two pleased her most, enough to launch them as separate fragrances.

Muguet de Mai is a complex composition which goes beyond a simple soliflore, as I sense the perfumer was not trying to simply capture just lily of the valley, and which brings back a forgotten ingredient that constitutes the crowning grace of many classics: resinous galbanum with its bitter green note. Lovers of the classic vintage version of Vent Vert by Balmain know full well what I'm talking about: the bracing feel of galbanum, technically a bottom note of slow evaporation, but surfacing at the very top of a fragrance composition can be the thing that makes or breaks a formula thanks to its sheer power. At the same time, it aids structuring the scent, giving a skeleton on which to work: Preening the harsh edges, without totally annihilating them, mellowing the base, giving a citric jolt that compliments it and fanning it on precious flower essences. That is what Germain Cellier did for the Balmain.
Dawn injected her perfume with galbanum to give it the ambience of a truly botanical atmosphere, the grass and earth still clinging to the flower. She also looked into vintages, specifically Muguet Composé (c.1930′s) and Muguet des Bois (c.1940′s) by Francois Coty, Illusion oil, Lily of the Valley (c.1940′s) by Draille and of course Diorissimo by Edmond Roudnitska for Dior (c.1970′s), taking cues from the editions chronologically referenced. From those she's closer to the woodier Muguet de Bois, but she also went beyond that: You can instantly feel this is an all naturals scent, due to the very botanical profile of the flower essences, in which cassis buds gives off a slightly sour tinge, then mollified by the balsamic elements ~rather animalistic, like honeyed thighs~ that sweeten that effect alongside the (perceptible) linden blossom essence. A unique take on May's 1st traditional good-luck-charm!

Extrait de parfum version was chosen (I believe) to bypass the problem of the fleeting nature of several natural essences: The result is a tempered, tenacious but low-pitched scent.

Notes for DSH Muguet de Mai extrait de parfum:

Top: Bergamot, lemon, Tunisian neroli
Heart: linden, hay accord, violet leaf, cyclamen accord, hyacinth accord, orris rhizome, broom, jasmine sambac, rose, ylang ylang, jonquil, lilac accord

Base: galbanum, cassis buds, East Indian sandalwood, Virginian cedar, Tolu balsam, olibanum (frankincense), honey beeswax, styrax.

Muguet Cologne is a different animal, lighter in tonality but at the same time with a deeper, more spiritual feel thanks to the mossy-grassy elements. The two predominant elements for me were the bitter citrusy tang (which I imagined as a neroli-galbanum duet in my mind, a bit Eau de Cologne meets Vent Vert) and the vetiver grassiness undernearth. I almost imagined a faint frankincense in the base, influenced as I am by the effluvium that comes out of churches mingling as it does with the scents of spring. Green is its mantle and green are the dreams it inspires, a wonderful tribute to men's skin.
Muguet Cologne has great tenacity (it's technically an Eau de Toilette concentration) and projects at just the right pitch to be enjoyed by everyone around. I know I sure did on my very own skin!

Notes for DSH Muguet Cologne:
Top: white grapefruit, chamomile, coriander
Heart: galbanum
Base: Australian sandalwood, patchouli, oakmoss, vetiver

Below is pricing information for the two DSH fragrances, both very limited edition.

Muguet de Mai perfume extrait concentration
5 ml antique presentation: $125
1 ml vials: $22

Muguet Cologne
1 oz muguet cologne: $98
10 ml muguet cologne $45
1 ml vials: $5.25

For our readers, I have 2 samples of Muguet de Mai extrait and 3 samples of Muguet Cologne I'm giving away. Please let me know what lily of the valley does to you in the comments and I will pick the winners.

Please visit the other participating blogs for more impressions on DSH's Muguet editions:

IndiePerfumes (Lucy)

The Non Blonde (Gaia)

CaFleureBon (Ida)

Scent Hive (Trish)

DSH Notebook (Dawn)

Artwork by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, used with permission.

Disclosure: Samples sent directly by the perfumer.

Scent for a Royal Wedding: The Fragrance of Kate Middleton on her Happiest Day

Friday's royal wedding of Kate Middleton to Prince William raised several questions as to what the bride and groom chose for their attire and the ambience of their memorable day. Among those, perfume aficionados were extra curious to find out Kate Middleton's (or shall we say Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge) personal fragrance. We had discussed how Kate used to enjoy Dune by Christian Dior in her student days before, a fragrance choice that showcased her special style and discerning taste. And hundreds of companies were clamoring for her attention. Floris went as far as creating a scent called Wedding Bouquet: "Created exclusively to celebrate the marriage of Prince William to Miss Catherine Middleton, Wedding Bouquet draws inspiration from the most acclaimed Floris wedding fragrances of the past whilst introducing a modern twist using a white flower theme." And so did Grossmith with Bethrothal, as we reported previously on these pages.

But for her special day Catherine Middleton chose White Gardenia Petals by Illuminum, a quite recent release, according to Michael Donovan of Illuminum's PR Company. The fragrance is described "As fragrant as a bouquet of white flowers, quivering in the gentle April breeze, this is a delicate and nuanced scent. The top note of stately gardenia evokes classicism, whilst heart notes of ylang ylang, muguet and jasmine bring a trio of frivolous white flowers into play. Amber wood underscores this light, fresh bouquet, adding depth and deep rooted tradition." It is available at Roullier White.

For the decoration and scenting of the Westminster Abbey and the guests' and VIP bathrooms, the PR team from Jo Malone informs me that they went with their room fragrances & candles (Orange Blossom, Grapefruit and the perennial favourite Lime, Basil & Mandarin)

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Fragrance Choices in Relation to Character & Ambience Delineation in Novels

"He had been before in drawing rooms hung with red damask, with pictures 'of the Italian school'; what struck him was the way in which Medora Manson's shabby hired house, with its blightened background of pampas grass and Rogers statuettes, had, by a turn of the hand, and the skillful use of a few properties, been transformed into something intimate, 'foreign', subtly suggestive of old romantic scenes and sentiments. He tried to analyse the trick, to find a clue to it in the way the chairs and tables were grouped, in the fact that only two Jacqueminot roses (of which nobody ever bought less than a dozen) had been placed in the slender vase at his elbow, and in the vague pervading perfume that was not what one put on handkerchiefs, but rather like the scent of some far-off bazaar, a smell made up of Turkish coffee and ambergris and dried roses."
~Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

I have been re-reading Wharton's masterpiece and noticing page after page the meticulous care with which the author has created a vivid universe of that crumbling world of social conventions. I follow the eyes and thoughts of late 19th century young gentleman Newland Archer, about to marry the perfect girl of his New York circle, May Welland, but who nevertheless ~out of a rebellion of his inquisitive spirit~ ends up in a frustrated, unfulfilled love story with her cousin, the Countess Olenska; a woman who inwardly snubs conventions, but seems eternally trapped by them in a pre-arranged world of genteel suffocation. No detail has been spared by the author in delineating the mores, the customs, the rites and rituals of a disappearing world and, within it all, one of the most characteristic seems to be the one hinting at smells; such as the above passage, recounting the house in which the Countess Olenska stays, a house she has decorated herself and which reflects her rebellious, cosmopolitan and free nature.

Other fragrant details surface frequently too: May Welland receives posies of lilies of the valley daily ~ Diana-like, pure, beautiful, virginal and above board~ all through her engagement to Newland. As he shops for her bouquet he suddenly notices...

..."a cluster of yellow roses. He had never seen any as sun-golden before and his first impulse was to send them to May instead of the lilies. But they did not look like her -there was something too rich, too strong, in their fiery beauty. In a sudden revulsion of mood, and almost without knowing what he did, he signed to the florist to lay the roses in another long box, and slipped his card into a second envelope, on which he wrote the name of the Countess Olenska; then, just as he was turning away, he drew the card out again, and left the empty envelope on the box".

Such small details can create a whole scene! The lily of the valley stands as the symbol of the virgin bride who is spotless and seems frail, yet surfaces triumphant in the conventional approach to marriage she seeks in the end, much like the aroma of the tiny blossom is piercingly sweet and surpasses most others. The sun-yellow rose is more mature, more feminine in a retro, "full" way, symbolising the giving and open nature of Ellen Olenska, its delicate scent a crumbling beauty that is trampled by those whose trail travels farthest.

Perfume mentions in novels, whether by general description or by specific brand names is not new, but it always strikes me as poignant and significant in setting the mood and tone of the literary work at hand. Indeed, there are books in which it sets the very plot, like obvious paradigm Das Parfum by Patrick Süskind, À Rebours (Against the Grain) by J.K. Huysmans or Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins. Then, they are those which use perfume references creatively, like The Petty Demon (Melkiy Bes) by Fyodor Sologub, chronicling Peredonov's ambition to rise from instructor to rural gymnasium to school inspector as well as the erotic dalliance between Sasha Pulnivok and Lyudmilla Rutilova.
Take White Oleander by Janet Finch as well, where every character signals a hidden side of them by their choice of fragrance: The biological mom looks stealthy if deliquent, but smells of shy, tender violets. The foster mom with the suicidal tendencies chooses L'Air du Temps, fusing her frail personality with the graceful and assured arc of the Nina Ricci's classic. The upscale hooker down the road wears steely and classy chypre Ma Griffe by Carven. Even the fragrant gift of the promiscuous neighbour to the girl heroine, Penhaligon's Love Potion No.9, is a plea and realisation for what the protagonist needs most: approval.

In Nancy Mitford's The Pursuit of Love the protagonist's wearing of Guerlain's classic Après l'Ondée elicits favourable reception. In Joanne Harris's Chocolat the depiction of all the village women wearing Chanel No.5, till the arrival of the trail blaizer heroine, is akin to a red flag of conventions-adoring set to be shred to pieces. In Dodie Smith's I Capture the Castle the scent that permeates the romantic atmosphere is Penhaligon's Bluebell; as British as you can get.
Sometimes scent in novels can even become an idée fixe:

"...and I could see Maxim standing at the foot of the stairs, laughing, shaking hands, turning to someone who stood by his side, tall and slim, with dark hair, said the bishop's wife, dark hair against a white face, someone whose quick eyes saw to the comfort of her guests, who gave an order over her shoulder to a servant, someone who was never awkward, never without grace, who when she danced left a stab of perfume in the air like a white azalea."

Thus writes Daphne du Maurier in Rebecca and continues:

"And then I knew that the vanished scent upon the handkerchief was the same as the crushed white petals of the azaleas in the Happy Valley." Or "The wardrobe smelt stuffy, queer. The azalea scent, so fragrant and delicate in the air, had turned stale in the wardrobe, tarnishing the silver dresses and the brocade, and the breath of it wafted toward me now from the open doors, faded and old."

And who can forget literary giant Honoré de Balzac when he describes down to the filthy detail and to the last minutiae the places where his heroes live and work in Père Goriot?

Fragrance references and scented descriptions add a whole different sublayer to a novel's charm and sometimes worth, by injecting it with a subtle nuance like nothing else. Simply put, the novel would be incomplete without referring that sense which makes up for so many of our memories, sentiments, preconceptions and aversions.


What about you? Do you enjoy fragrance references in novels or do they distract you? And which are your favourites? Share them in the comments.