Shiseido Inoui: fragrance review, history & draw

Beware of the celebrity endorsement; it might get you in trouble hunting for rare, long lost treasures to the detriment of your wallet: The first time I became seriously intriguied by Inouï was upon reading an interview of Greek singer Anna Vissi, more than a dozen years ago, declaring her longing for a bottle of this discontinued Shiseido scent: "If anyone still got a bottle, I'm paying double for it". Makes a girl move earth and sky to find some, doesn't it! Inoui, or rather Inouï with the requisite umlaut, launched by Shiseido in 1976 and quickly vanished from the market in the late 1980s, its quirky name meaning unprecedented in the sense of stunningly gorgeous.

Stunningly gorgeous it might not be exactly, as I reserve this characterisation for truly seminal fragrances or those which exhibit a daring concordance of vision and orchestration, but the drops resting on my collarbone speak of its beauty in no uncertain terms: Inouï prettifies everything it touches, even though it belongs to the old-school austere, cool greens of the ilk of Chanel No.19, Alliage, Diorella, Calèche and Shiseido's own Koto which are crepuscularly silver, rarely breaking a smile, surely alien ~ in the letter of the law~ to my own warm-blooded, passionate Mediterranean nature.

There is nothing really warm or conventionally seductive about Inouï , the bitter galbanum resin and chilled alοof florals giving a Brechtian detachment, a sort of stoic Britannic phlegm even on the face of the gravest tragedy; or maybe -more plausibly- it's just the Japanese aesthetic of keeping one's cool and always appearing composed. At the time Shiseido was not yet in collaboration with Serge Lutens, the maestro who would bring Gallic passion to the Eastern refinement with Nombre Noir and all the rest of their collaborative opus, and suppposedly the company was meaning to break up with their oriental tradition at the same time, hence the name of the fragrance one would assume:

'An international product developed by the joint efforts of Shiseido staff in Japan, the U.S. and Italy, Inoui was introduced in 1976. Under the sales theme of the “New Working Woman,” the image was of a new woman with a cosmopolitan mind. She lived a beautiful lifestyle of jazz dance, yoga, jogging and other new activities of the time, while easily handling her work as well. “It's not her beauty. It's her lifestyle.” clearly expresses the concept behind the product.'

Thus ran the official blurb on the fragrance on the US site.Somehow it doesn't sound very fetching to me. I can think of better things. But times have changed; back then "modern" woman apparently dreamed about the "beautiful lifestyle of jazz dance, yoga, jogging and other new activities, while easily handling her work as well".

Yet history disproves this assertion of breaking with tradition: Saso and Myth of Saso, other Shiseido rarities, are unusual and unpliable with no "lifestyle" concept behind them, yet roughly contemporaries. But for every Saso there's a Koto; easy, breezy, refreshingly cool for active lives, so Shiseido is obviously consciously catering to a multitude of women and respective markets. Later on, the Japanese company launched a make-up line by the same name (and the follow-up, Inoui ID) which was put into stunning visuals by Lutens himself, the choreographing of the models an exercise in cobra mesmerising human eyes.

Inouï is a fragrance which, underneath the crashed stems and sap, lives and breathes in human form and yes, warms up somewhat with an exquisite jasmine heart, halfway between birth and rot, flanked by the pungent accent of herbal thyme, like a seasoned woman who knows what she wants and what she's capable of. This is why it feels at a crossroads between floral chypre and green floral; but Inoui is friendlier than angular No.19 by Chanel, soapier and sweeter than Alliage by Lauder and less BCBG than Hermès Calèche. It's so pretty, deep and undemanding that it poses a mystery on why it got axed so soon! Then again, might we recall the dire straits of Paco Rabanne's Calandre; who knew such an easy, loveable fragrance would become hard to get!
The opening accord in Shiseido Inouï is sap-like, crushed greens with a hint of soapy aldehydes and at the same time reminiscent of the lemon-peach top chord of classic Diorella: fresh, but registered an octave below, mossier. Soon the warmth of ripe jasmine anchors the peachy lactonic notes and gives oomph, fleshing the sketch of the greens and deepening the feminine impression. The impression of green floral sustains itself cuddled by a lightly mysterious base, like that in Y by Yves Saint Laurent, deepening as time passes, mingled perfectly in one unified chord, while its murmur is only audible to those who come close by.

Vintage batches (the only kind, really, since Inoui is long discontinued) crop up sometimes online, for really huge prices somewhat unjustifiably. Those which retain a fresh, green floral and a tad soapy note have kept well. If your catch smells sour, you've been out of luck: the perfume deteriorated through the years. There is an eau de parfum version and an extrait de parfum in sparse, architectural bottles, both worthy additions to a distinguished perfume collection.

Notes for Shiseido Inoui :
Top: Galbanum, Peach, Juniper, Lemon, Green Accord
Heart: Pine Needles, Freesia, Thyme, Jasmin
Base: Cedarwood, Myrrh, Musk, Civet, Oakmoss

Since it's such a rarity, one sample out of my own personal stash goes out to one lucky reader. Please comment on what appeals to this genre to qualify.

Kalokairi: Open End Poll

"Kalokairi...The blue peer will bring you...Kalokairi [...]Wet mouth, lean loins, kalokairi. With a slice of watermelon on one hand, with half-melted kisses, with some slices stuck on the kitchen knife...Kalokairi[...] An odour of the death chamber...Kalokairi...With Hades's burn on the hand, its longing wandering in the world...".

What's your most vivid summery memory having to do with the senses? I will check back when I return from my (alas short) trip.

Song Kalokairi (Summer) by Greek songwriter Dionysis Savvopoulos



Καλοκαίρι
η γαλάζια προκυμαία θα σε φέρει
καλοκαίρι
καρεκλάκια, πετονιές μέσ' το πανέρι
μες τη βόλτα αυτού του κόσμου που μας ξέρει
καλοκαίρι
πλάι στα μέγαρα, στις τέντες με τ' αγέρι
καλοκαίρι
με χρυσούς ανεμιστήρες μεταφέρει
την βανίλια με το δίσκο του στο χέρι
την κοψιά μιας προτομής μέσ' το παρτέρι
καλοκαίρι
μ' ανοιχτό πουκαμισάκι στα ίδια μέρη


Καλοκαίρι
με μισόκλειστες τις γρίλιες μεσημέρι
καλοκαίρι
καθρεφτάκια και μια θάλασσα που τρέμει
στο ταβάνι και τους γύψους μεσημέρι
καλοκαίρι
με τον κούκο μέσ' τα πεύκα και στ' αμπέλι
καλοκαίρι
στόμα υγρό, μικροί λαγώνες, καλοκαίρι
με τη φέτα το καρπούζι στο ‘να χέρι
με φιλιά μισολιωμένα, καλοκαίρι
καλοκαίρι
λίγες φλούδες στης κουζίνας το μαχαίρι


Καλοκαίρι
του σκυμμένου θεριστή του τυφλοχέρη
καλοκαίρι
με βαριά μοτοσικλέτα μες τα σκέλη
τους φακούς του ανάβει μέρα μεσημέρι
καλοκαίρι
όλο πίσσα και κατράμι καλοκαίρι
καλοκαίρι
με τον ρόγχο του air condition μεσημέρι
φαλακροί μέσ' τις σακούλες μας σαν γέροι
εκεινού με τ' άσπρο κράνος που μας ξέρει
καλοκαίρι
μια οσμή νεκροθαλάμου, καλοκαίρι


Καλοκαίρι
στην αρχή σαν έγχρωμο έργο στην Ταγγέρη
αλλά εν τέλει
με του κάτω κόσμου το έγκαυμα στο χέρι
την λαχτάρα του στον κόσμο περιφέρει
καλοκαίρι
στον χαμό του οδηγημένο και το ξέρει
καλοκαίρι
τόσο ώριμο που πέφτοντας προσφέρει
μια πλημμύρα των καρπών, στάρι και μέλι
στον σπασμό του το απόλυτο το αστέρι
καλοκαίρι
μες τα κόκκινα της δύσης του ανατέλλει

Parfums Weil Antilope: fragrance review

The name would bring to mind a safari in the African savannah, even though not spelled "antelope", but that is decidely not my image of Antilope by Parfums Weil, a fine fragrance by the well-known fourrier company. Still, even though launched by a fur house, Antilope is not a parfum fourrure, at least in the fetishistic sense of the term.



Let’s see: Antilope in its vintage version (the fragrance launched in 1946) is a floral aldehyde chypre that begins old-fashioned , dry and powdery , with a top note of pure flowers smelt at a mountain top like Ma Griffe. But hey, this is a chalet in the French Alps we are talking about and the effect is decidedly elegant and sophisticated , not natural. The house of Weil has an illustrious history of bringing out fragrances which speak of luxury, exotic hides, glorious landscapes of fantasy and glamour.
Think Capucine or Claudia Cardinale decked in Yves Saint Laurent on the slopes and at the chalets of Cortina (hey! Italian mountain , a technicality….) in "The Pink Panther", the first movie in the series in 1963. Picture Claudia sprawled on a tiger fur rug batting her lashes seductively and a little drunkendly at David Niven telling him about the “frasari…safrari…wild animal hunt” her father took her to. Then a fruity/herby note appears , like humble chamomiles. Sweet and innocent for a moment. Claudia will pass out from champagne before any carnal promiscuity. The fragrance ends with moss and wood, not distant, but elegant like in a reverie.
Very dry. Chic. French. Or not-so French. But of that attitude…….Maybe it's just the clothes and the setting, maybe it's Antilope.

Notes for Weil Antilope:
Top: neroli, bergamot and aldehydes
Heart: clary sage, rose, lily of the valley, jasmine, carnation, iris and violet
Base: sandalwood, vetiver, patchouli, tonka, amber, oakmoss and musk.

The vintage Antilope is assuredly richer and more nuanced than the reissued, sharper and more sanitized floral version. Excellent in Eau de Cologne and Parfum de Toilette (depicted).


If you like Madame Rochas or Caleche and wished they had a rougher texture than ever prim gentleness; or love the bitterness and swag of Cabochard and the "fresh" clarity of Ma Griffe, but find them too harsh to wear; Antilope is a great middle-ground.

Pong de Paris & Medieval London

A documentary series by the BBC Two called "Filthy Cities" tackles two of the most infamously "stinky" of European cities from the past (today they're not so fragrant either): Paris and London. A history lesson and some olfactory adventurous research as well, guided by historian Dan Snow with some impressive CGI scenes. The London episode is presented in its entirety below.





And if you think you could brave it, watch a poor human specimen test on camera the scratch & sniff cards for the show, available in any library in the UK courtesy of the BBC.
In many ways reminiscent of the atmosphere of "Perfume, Story of a Murderer", only this is no fiction....

Frederic Malle Carnal Flower: fragrance review

Carnal Flower by Frédérick Malle alludes to the perception of tuberoses as flowers of "spiritual ruin"; at one point in time they were actually thought to provoce an instant orgasm to the fair maidens who might smell them!! Imagine the prudish customs of yesterdays challenged by that thought....In reality, Frédérick Malle seeking to author a white floral (no line is complete without it), visited California, where both surroundings and ladies exude scents of gardenia and tuberose apparently. But Malle is also Louis Malle's, the famous film director's, nephew, and therefore related to actress Candice Bergen, Malle's wife from 1980 till his death in 1995.

Inspirations
Candice Bergen, a Californian by birth, despite the "cool ice princess" facade proved how there is fire and passion beneath it, both in her personal choices and -relevantly to our discussion- in one memorable film, Carnal Knowledge by Mike Nichols in 1971. As Susan, shagged by Jack Nicholson and shared (and eventually married to) Art Garfunkel, the safer bet of two wandering males, she gives a bleak and blunt portrayal of the inherent mortality of romance and the decaying beauty of sex. The young Frédérick Malle had thus one part of the illustrious concept of his fragrance down pat! Carnal Flower it would be and the star would be a man-eating flower.

Composition
The rest was masterful orchestration: Composed by Dominique Ropion, renowned creator of the wonderful Ysatis by Givenchy , the horrifically flamboyant and attention-grabbing Amarige by the same designer and the controversial Une Fleur de Cassie for Malle again (no mean feat, its strong animalic base acting as a conversation piece among the brave), the new fragrance on the sketching board naturally presented an olfactory challenge as tuberose is one of those smells that can be heavenly or hellish, no in-betweens : the orchestration and interpretation is all that matters. A flair for the intense on the recipients' part is also mandatory , it would seem....

Perufmery Tuberoses: Where does Carnal Flower Stand?
The history of tuberose in perfumery passes through that parfum phare as the French say (a "lighthouse perfume", a landmark more like it): Fracas, conceived by the fauvist Germaine Cellier for Robert Piguet, with its fleshy, lush contradicting qualities edged upon the two extremes: creamy, candy-ish beauty and violent hystrionics leading to decay. Blonde by Versace is its poorer , aspiring -and rather successful- imitator with a flamboyant style that is very Italian, a civet come-hither innuendo and quite pleasant in calculated moderation especially in extrait de parfum. Serge Lutens Tubéreuse Criminelle presents a peculiar problem : one has to wait for the crucial first 15 minutes, when the demonic camphor note subsides, giving reign to the glorious creaminess and silky softness of the flower. Caron's Tubereuse is very radiant , yet perfume-y although lighter and not suited to today's sensibilities, I find. Carolina Herrera (the original one by the famous designer) is a bit too operatic, being so much infused with another bombshell : jasmine. Some of the rest (Lauder's Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia and Do Son by Diptyque) are either more positioned towards gardenia or too light for carnal aspirations. Vamp a NY by Honore des Pres is more candied than that and with a generous helping of pink jasmine, although equally magnificent. Tuberose perfumes are a real continent: there are variations in the verdure to suit everyone.
Carnal Flower was from the beginning a mission into offering something different.

Scent Profile
Studying the odor of the real living blossom, which is apparently everywhere in California, the quintessentially French company Editions des Parfum Frédéric Malle has managed to capture the air of a tropical garden at dusk, full of the breeze and the richness of the dangerously seductive blossoms inside the austere looking bottles of Carnal Flower. Malle himself was encouraging Ropion to go the extra mile, per their official info, while the concept was in the cards from the very beginning, going into speed dial when Ropion was introduced to a new "corrected" absolute de tubereuse: Americans love tuberose flowers. Hence the addition of a coconut note and strong salicylates with musks, boosted with orange blossom absolute, all familiar apertures, which channel a warm and inviting quality. But they also want a seemingly fresh scent, something that will titillate the nostrils and the mind. The camphor note, reminiscent of eycalyptus leaves, is a necessity: At once freeing the weight of the inherent indolic character of the blossom, which browns as it decays, and imitating the exhalation of tuberose in nature: greenish and somewhat mentholic from afar.  Yet the mentholated note does not make a grand appearence in Carnal Flower like it does in Tubéreuse Criminelle: the composition is therefore less striking, arguably less thought-provoking, but more wearable by more people as a result. Not a jarring note in sight; even the fruitier notes, like coconut and melon, are interspersed through sleight of hand to evoke freshness and sensuousness. Like Candice Bergen, it's beautiful, but then again, not without wits or substance, and although undeniably sensual and sexy, it is high class and a lady, not a slut, at all times. (For slut, if you choose, you can resort to Musc Ravageur by the same niche perfume company)

The development of Carnal Flower is smooth, into a heart of pure tuberose absolute with a sweet coconut-like facet (like Coppertone suntan lotion, another California reference) and solar salicylates (a natural pheromone of blossoms that aids pollination), without great changes throughout its drydown. The amount of tuberose absolute used is the greatest in use in all current perfumery: any more of this and you might burst! The initial opulence remains intact while after some minutes a slightly bitter-sweet, rubbery quality ascends to the surface, a natural effect of the real flower. It should be advised not to overdo the application because of this element. As it weaves its magic though, it never becomes cloying, but it does seem to steal the scene and all the best lines audible from several paces away. Carnal Flower is loud enough to be a classic-in-the-making.

If you're among those who find the fragrance overwhelming (and it can be), the exquisite Beurre Exquis in Carnal Flower (a body butter infused with the gorgeous smell of the fragrance) might be a lighter, subtler option for you with decent sillage and lasting power. Highly recommended and worth the monetary outlay.

Notes for F.Malle Carnal Flower:
Top: bergamot, melon, camphor
Heart: tuberose absolute, ylang-ylang, jasmine, orange blossom
Base: tuberose basolute, coconut, white musk



pic of Candice Bergen via youlookfiine.wordpress.com