Prada Candy: fragrance review

It's been called "Werther's Original in a bottle". It's been called "Infusion de benjoin". It's been called "a vat of Polish fudge made of condensed milk" or "cajeta". To my mind, it's neither, though I can see where the assessments are coming from. Prada Candy is simply the most unexpected launch of this autumn coming from the most blasé designer brand. I defy anyone to smell it and come up with a definitive verdict in less than a week's testing. It just keeps you guessing, is this for real? 

There's something inherently sophisticated about the Prada fragrance line (the apotheosis being L'Eau Ambrée; in contrast some of the Infusions are limp-wristed to me) and though at first glance ~or rather, sniff~ that's not apparent in Candy, in the end you realize that it could have been Pink Sugar, but it's not. It resembles the best-selling Aquolina scent in some respects; the strawberry-flavoured caramel being melted in a hot plastic cup, at some intergalaxial fun fair where waitresses are clad in A-line skirts embossed with lip prints in pastel hues. That doesn't mean that Candy is not a departure for the brand; something by  that name in a pop canister resembling a pink-edged coffee press is meant to be sweet and teeny-bopper and not coming out of the mind of Miuccia with her Communism background, right? Is catering to lower instincts like hunger and lust an opium for the people?

But there's thankfully a certain comfort factor about the new Prada fragrance instead of just dessert sweet, thanks to the deft of hand of perfumer Daniela Andrier; it's a complex gourmand oriental with a balsamic, drizzling, sexy background that holds it from becoming a total "teenagers-don't-know-any-better" mess. I'm not entirely convinced it's the best fit the brand could come up with (and it's not "me", which might be influencing me), but it's got a certain pull-in factor despite the identity crisis (Watching the commercial with Léa Seydoux I don't know if I'm supposed to laugh or hide my eyes out of shame on the protagonists' behalf). In short, Prada Candy is that confusing phenomenon: a fragrance that doesn't fit with Prada's image (much like L'Artisan's original Vanilia with its "simplistic" ice-cream cone scent was incongruous with the hippy, boho style of the rest of the brand), but somehow manages to appeal all the same.Of course one could argue that Prada might slap their label over a bottle of water and it would still sell like hot bread. True.

The composition features elegant musks up top with the intense flavour of milky, creamy caramel mixed in, some of the caramelic accents reminding me of the upper edges of lavender's spectrum. That caramelic note takes almost licorice & tonka facets, complex, abstract, like a passing kinship with the original Lolita Lempicka perfume. There is benzoin resin in the lower range of notes (much like in their best-selling Infusion d'Iris scent), purported to be as much as 12% of the formula -which I find hard to totally believe as benzoin is a known sensitizer- that creates a moiré effect between cozy and powdery. Benzoin naturally possesses facets like copal, a smell between medicinal and sweet, with earthier components (Smell Guerlain Bois d'Arménie which is full of it) . This characterises the drydown (i.e.the final phase of persistence) of Prada Candy on the skin after the first half hour following spritzing. The musky "dirty diapers" note, like baby urine, creates a background of soft suede and darkness reminiscent of a lot of vintage fragrances (it's the sexy note in Shalimar). A sneaky wink. And this is exactly why Candy is not dumping the brand or just aiming at a younger demographic, as one would be quick to cauterize at first "reading" of this launch.
The sillage is nice and cozy and the lasting power very satisfactory, after a while it becomes a skin scent.
I don't think I will be buying a full bottle, but I will tuck in  many samples in my bag for when I want to (contendedly) get down and silly. Nothing wrong with that!

Prada Candy is available at Eau de Parfum concentration at major department stores, starting from £40 for 30ml/1oz. and online (check the selection of discount fragrances for even better deals)
ETA: A new flanker, Candy L'Eau, a lighter interpretation, is introduced in spring 2013. 





Photo of dulce de leche via pinterest.com

Le Labo Aldehyde 44: fragrance review

The aliphatic aldehydes string of Chanel No.5 is what is termed "aldehydic" in perfumery parlance and characterises a whole sub-group within the floral fragrance family: C10, C11, C12 aldehydes to be exact, creating an accord so memorable it has pervaded fragrance mores for decades. [If you don't know what aldehydes are, refer to this article]. Le Labo's take in Aldehyde 44 is more inspired by the sweeter, soapier, more snowy-capped mountains seen flying above in lesser known (and more American-geared) Godzilla-aldehydic Chanel No.22 and equally American "sharp clean" White Linen by Estee Lauder than muskier-sexier-dirtier (aka Frenchier) No.5 however. Perhaps the fact that it's a Dallas,TX city-exclusive (only Dallas inhabitants and visitors of the city's Le Labo boutique at Barneys can partake of the sprakling waters!) is not totally random as imagined.This is a clean, rested, posh fragrance; depilated, smoothed and hosed and full of energy, not languor.

The opening in the Le Labo fragrance is so old-fashioned elegant and prim in its sharp biting "sparkle", with its citrusy-waxy fat top note, you will be doing a double take to see whether you have been magically transported back to 1955 and wearing a whale-boned petticoat under your skirt. But the perfume is modern, in more ways than one.
The progression is seamless and sustainaibly sour aldehydic into a somewhat metallic musky floralcy in the base, without either too much sweetness or woodiness (The idea of musk at Le Labo can be perversely illusionary anyway, as attested in Musc 25. Perfumer Yann Vasnier is using ambrettolide here in Aldehyde 44, which is a macrocyclic musk, very refined, soapy smelling-fruity in character).
What is characteristic is there is no powderiness in Aldehyde 44, as associated with other retro fragrances that utilize irones and ionones (iris and violets) to denote cosmetic products and old-school face powder. Instead it's citrusy waxy-soapy-fatty, it makes me think it's what an hypothetical child between Ivoire by Balmain and White Linen would be like: the green sudsy oiliness of the former meets the fatty sweetness of the latter, the rosy facets taking on a peppery bite with lots of buds' green, a hint of pear fruit in there too.

If you read that Aldehyde 44 contains woods and vanilla and imagine a comforting scent, you will are in for a nasty surprise: the woods only come from the C12 aldehyde (a pollen-rooty, lilac scent) and the silvery refracting amber synthetic; while the citrusy touches are reminiscent of bitterish, tangy orange rind (which has a resinous quality, not unlike some incense blends) and not marmelade. The floral notes cannot be taken apart, it's an abstract blend where no note rises above the rest. Aldehyde 44 possesses "sweetness" of another kind altogether and it can only be compared to that encountered in No.22 (especially in its less incense-y modern incarnation as part of Les Exclusifs in Eau de toilette) or the classic Lauder referenced above. The sillage is civilized, but definitely there, and the lasting power very good. Lovers of the elegant polished genre, rejoice, this is a well-crafted example; perhaps not totally necessitating the ouchy price-tag nevertheless.

The offficial Le Labo presentation states: "Aldehyde 44 is a small wonder that sits tight between an aldehyde overdose, that gives this scent a unique cleanliness to it, a sublime floral composition that is built around Naracissus, Jasmin, and Tuberose (all Absolute in case you wandered), and a bed of muscs tied with a hint of vanilla. The result is esthetically admirable and unique".

Aldehyde 44 by Le Labo features fragrance notes of: aldehydes, tuberose absolute, jasmine sambac, narcissus absolute, woods, vanilla and musk.

Le Labo Aldehyde 44 is a Dallas, TX city-exclusive, retailing at $290 for 50ml, but only for the month of November it is globally available at Luckyscent and on the official Le Labo site.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:  Le Labo reviews & news , Aldehydes: what they are, how do they smell, where do they shine, Aldehydic fragrances

photo of Cyd Charisse

Evelyn Lauder: 1936-2011

Pink was Evelyn H. Lauder's colour. The breast health advocate and founder of the Pink Ribbon campaign working for Estée Lauder for more than 50 years (she was Leonard Lauder's wife) died from ovarian cancer at her Manhattan home. 
She will be fondly remembered for all her action in the support of women, her graciousness and her kind manner.

photo of Evelyn Lauder and Greek designer Dukas who designed the latest pink bracelet for the campaign against breast cancer via ermoumag

Serge Lutens L'Eau Froide: new fragrance

When Lutens launched L’Eau Serge Lutens, in 2010, he didn't mince his words: ‘When I presented L’Eau to my team, I felt like Saint Just informing the nobles they were going to lose their privileges.’ The concept behind L'Eau by Lutenswas interesting to analyse, even if the reality of the fragrance was lukewarm to hard-core Lutens fans such as myself. Now, he's following up with a second "Eau". Who, the magus of orientalia? Apparently yes.

True to his signature blend of humor and provocation, next March the divine Serge will be presenting the follow-up: L’Eau Froide, a clear eau de parfum concentration of fragrance that will see his previous Eau joined by a similar-looking bottle. (1.7oz/50ml and 3.4 oz./100ml, 69 and 100 euros respectively at select doors stocking Lutens fragrances in March 2012).
What will Serge Lutens's upcoming fragrance L'Eau Froide smell like, though?

He only reveals frankincense aong the fragrance notes, the classic Catholic and Orthodox ecclesiastical incense note. ‘Frosty’ and ‘glacial’ are enot adjectives we tend to associate with incense (rather pyrocaustic is, although on Perfume Shrine we have devoted a whole series to different  varieties and  nuances of incense fragrances). But Serge’s response is probably what matters anyway: ‘People only notice the pyrogen facet in smoky incense burners… but not the coolness, except for the church’s.’Incidentally, Lutens is no stranger to incense in his impressive line already: Encens & Lavande takes on the ashen facets of lavender-nuanced smoke, while Serge Noire is the spicy, warm & cool contrast of serene meditation.
Back to the newest Lutens L'Eau Froide: "To begin with, it is cold, but in a nice way. Smells like rosemary, pepper… a slightly spicy-aldehyde-y effect, like bay leaves. A minty sensation too, plus a woody pinch of eucalyptus. Who knows, maybe it’s meant as a wink and a nod to Morocco’s “hammams”, or Turkish baths?" writes Nicolas Olczyk trying. it.

The bottle and the box are inscribed with iterations of coldness...cold, icy cold, frosted, transparent, crystalline, calm, ice salt, large glass of water...
I'm a firm believer in the cooling properties of unadulterated frankincense which I burn regularly: After all, the raw material shares citrusy top notes in itself, which dissipate and volatilise quickly rendering that cool smoky ambience we associate with stone temples of old.
One is quick to suppose that this "second act" might actually be an abandonded mod in the creative process of either of Serge's previous incense fragrances (or even of his L'Eau), but I can't wait to smell this aromatic interpetation of one of my favourite notes all the same. Expect a full review soon!

Photo by Fred Boisssonnas, Old Metsovo 1913, Greece, To the springs.

Jasmine Gin Fizz: Floral-Laced Cocktail Recipe for Festive Nights

We have to thank Korres, the Greek company, for this recipe of floral-laced festive Jasmine Gin Fizz brought to you today thanks to the sharing spirit of my reader Morticia. Now that the nights are longer, and more inviting to parties, we can get to the spirit of the upcoming festivities with something alcoholic. Gin Fizz recalls the sparkling nature of Lubin's classic fragrance by the same name, whetting the appetite of this perfumeholic for an accompanying sip on the lips.

The recipe here follows a late 19th century Silver Fiz cocktail version, which was updated by chef Ryan Fitzerald, who always wanted to incorporate the floralcy of jasmine tea into a gin cocktail (he added honey to bring on the fruitiness of jasmine in the blend).
The recipe suggested by Korres below is even easier:

Jasmine Gin Fizz

Ingredients:
2 ounces jasmine gin
1 ounce fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon superfine sugar
club soda
ice

Preparation:
To make the jasmine gin, you soak two jasmine teabags in 8 ounces of gin for one hour. Then get the teabags out and count 2 ounces of the liquid. Add and stir 1 ounce of fresh lemon juice and the sugar. Shake so that sugar dissolves. Strain over ice in a suitable glass (get out the cocktail glasses!). Top with club soda.

L'chaim!

photo via whimsically wishing blog