Serge Lutens Santal Majuscule: new fragrance

A new fragrance by Serge Lutens is always news on Perfume Shrine. In addition to the Paris exclusive Lutens Une Voix Noire which we announced a while ago on these pages (and the accompanying Le Vaporisateur Tout Noir, an all black portable atomiser for carrying your favorite Lutens fragrance in your handbag in total style, coming out in October 2012), the maestro is bring out another fragrance this year.

Set for launch in July and destined for the export line (black label high concentration oblong bottle), Lutens presents his third fragrance with Santal in the name, after Santal Blanc (recently upgraded to the exclusives line) and Santal de Mysore; this time it's Santal Majuscule! (Meaning "capital sandalwood", sandalwood in capitals, sandalwood to the max; or perhaps thus implying it's un parfum capiteux, which means heady, intoxicating in French).


We can also hypothesize whether it will be a classic interpretation of sandalwood (not very likely given the rationing of the Mysore variety) or an etude on the different species of Australian sandalwood with its interesting facets. Newer info right off the source suggests this is a study on the scent of Indian sandalwood (which means anything!), which I find imaginative; this is what they told me for all it's worth.

As correctly surmissed on Basenotes back then, at any rate this is the name of the new Lutensian opus (this is official) and we can get an appetite till July rolls.

EDIT TO ADD: The new Santal Majuscule revolves around three main notes: sandalwood of course, bittersweet cocoa absolute and Damask rose, fresh and slightly spicy. 
As Serge, cryptically as usual says: "Provoked by the fresh and peppery prickle of the Damask rose, it reflects the sweet bitterness of childhood memories via cocoa absolute. Medieval legends recounted in precious books ...creamy spicy dressing for a majestic Sandalwood. Its name? Sandalwood: The Sacred Wood / Capital: The Rare Illuminations."
And the motto as seen in the ad, in Latin no less? "Oboedi silentiis meis, non imperii" (Obey my silence and not my orders)

official ad of Serge Lutens new perfume Santal Majuscule

Additionally, if you haven't read it yet, there's a short interview (in English) with Lutens on Botanical Inspirations on Another Magazine, on his previous fragrance L'Eau Froide and his home on Morocco.


photo by Lutens, Despointes (Unknown Lady in a Hat), 1972.

A Taste for Rose: Exploring the Many Nuances of Roses

May and June are traditionally the months when the queen of flowers, the rose, makes its regal appearance in gardens across the world. Shakespeare said it well "At Christmas I no more desire a rose. Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows; But like of each thing that in season grows." [from Love's Labour Lost] Ovid wrote: "The sharpest thorn often produces delicate roses" and a Turkish proverb claims "Thorns and roses grow on the same tree".
Rose has captured the imagination of all cultures, of all men. Its association with beauty, romance and physical perfection dates back a long, long time ago and doesn't show any signs of waning. All it asks is our appreciation. Like in Saint-Exypery's Little Prince, we must tend our rose (literal and metaphorical), for it to bloom and to reach its peak. But bend to actually smell the roses, literally, and you find a nuanced, multi-layered cornucopia of fragrant notes, evolving, tingling, provoking you into reaction... Rose isn't a simpleton.

The Rose Family
The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple’s a rose
 ~Robert Frost (1874–1963)  

There are Five English Rose Fragrance Descriptors
According to David Austin Roses, the following descriptors, much like in wine and tea (or indeed like perfume!) serve to guide like a compass into how rose can have specific nuances in its scent profile.

Myrrh: An aromatic, anise-like scent; among roses it's found almost exclusively in English roses.
Fruity: Because the rose is related to apricots, pears, apples, strawberries and others, fruity notes often surface.
Musk: A romantic scent, it often comes from the flower's stamens. People are especially sensitive to the scent.
Old rose: The classic rose fragrance, it's found almost exclusively in pink and red roses.
Tea rose: A strong scent — like that of fresh tea — that often dominates a flower. Other fragrances can become evident over time.

An Expert's Favorites 

Michael Marriott handles as technical director and head rosarian for David Austin Roses and along with fellow scent expert Rober Calkin regularly oversees the production of roses. Not every variant can fit the needs we have. As Elenor Roosevelt once said: "I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall".

Here Marriot has chosen his top David Austin roses, based largely on their scent. His list of favorite rose variants:
Gertrude Jekyll: Marriott says this is considered the quintessential old rose fragrance: strong, rich, complex and well-balanced. (USDA Zones 4-8)
Munstead Wood: Also a strong old rose scent, it features notes of blackberry, blueberry and damson plum. (Zones 5-9)
Lady Emma Hamilton: A strong, fruity fragrance (pear, grape and citrus) that complements its orange and yellow coloring. (Zones 5-9)
Scepter'd Isle: With a strong myrrh fragrance, this variety has won the Royal National Rose Society's award for fragrance. (Zones 5-10)
Harlow Carr: Another old rose floral scent that complements a classic old rose form. (Zones 5-9)

Read more tips on appreciating the scent of live roses on this link
pic mmdelrosario.hubpages.com

Perfumery Material: Cashmeran/ Blonde Woods

Thanks to its pliability, which fits like a glove many diverse compositions of different fragrance families, or thanks to its diffusiveness and tenacity, Cashmeran or blonde woods is a molecule which forms the core of many a modern perfume formula; a synthetic not found in nature but copiously used in products we use every day from soap to shampoo and deodorant.

Chemistry 
The proper name of Cashmeran is 1,2,3,5,6,7-hexahydro-1,2,3,3-pentamethyl-4h-inden-4-one. You might also come across it as "musk indanone" or "indomuscone". Though commonly refered to as "blonde woods" in perfume speak, the reality is that the ingredient Cashmeran (an International Flavors and Fragrances appelation) is actually a musk component with a yellow, trickly texture. Its scent profile takes over a vast sea between woods and ambers, abstract and indefinable. Not currently under the allergens list controled by IFRA it is used in a variety of products. There are som concerns that excessive use of polycyclic musks might do some liver damage, but we're probably talking massive amounts here.

The name Cashmeran derives from its tactile feel which recalls the smoothness and softness of cashmere wool.  Among the first perfumes to use it in a considerable degree were Loulou by Cacharel (1987) and Paco Rabanne Sport (1986).
as is Sexy Graffiti by Escada (2002). Tempting though it may be to imagine that modern best-seller Cashmere Mist by Donna Karan (1994) is full of it, in reality the powdery soft perfume doesn't use it.

Insoluble in water and hydrophobic, Cashmeran is therefore a prime target for use in functional perfumery too, since it won't rinse out: detergents, fabric softener, alcoholic lotions, deodorants, shampoos, you name it... But fine perfumery has profited of its advantages as well.

Scent Profile: Abstract, Musky, Woody, Concrete Hit by Rain
The diffusive, musky-woody scent is reminiscent of concrete (especially the abstract woody scent that concrete gives when hit upon by rain, a cityscape in the rain), also lightly spicy, lightly powdery. Though perfumers sometimes describe it to also have apple and pine facets I admit I haven't detected those myself. It is however used as a powerful floralizer as it aids the expansion and diffusion of floral notes, especially accords of jasmine, as in Thierry Mugler's Alien (it's also used in Womanity) or the lighter Flora Nerolia by Guerlain (where it's married to neroli and frankincense as well). Other cult fragrances to feature it prominently include the discontinued Feu d'Issey and Kenzo's Jungle L'Elephante and Jungle Le Tigre.
In Histoires de Parfums' Tuberose Trilogy, Gislain chose to include the note in the Tubereuse Virginale offering, where blond woods coexist with naturally cohabitating, heady white flowers on a base of patchouli and vanilla. Dans tes Bras by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle contains a hefty dose of Cashmeran alongside the violet nuances and so does his Une Fleur de Cassie, while Wonderwood by Comme des Garcons, Diptyque's Eau Particuliere, Nasomatto Duro, Byredo La Tulipe and Al Khatt by Xerjoff Shooting Stars collection are a few more niche offerings exploiting Cashmeran's diffusiveness. Perfumer Mathilde Laurent, currently in-house perfumer for Cartier, has a particular fondness for it.

How to Incorporate Cashmeran into Perfumes 
Blending well with other modern ingredients (ambroxan, allyl amyl glycolate, damascones, ethyl maltol...) as well as natural ingredients (frankincense, clary sage, citrus, geraniol, linalool, patchouli, tonka bean, vetiver, etc.), Cashmeran presents a vista of options for the creative perfumer.

It can serve woody or warm musk compositions (see Miami Glow by JLo), formulae resting on rose and saffron, tobacco or oud masculine blends (see Nomaoud by Comptoir Sud Pacifique or Byredo's Accord Oud), even perfumes with jonquil or cassie. It can even aid aqueous olfactory scapes, such as in Armani's Acqua di Gioia Essenza!
Tocca Florence, Tom Ford White Patchouli, Step into Sexy by Avon, Philosophy Love, Blumarine Innamorata, Kylie Minogue Dazzling Darling, Hugo Boss Hugo (in the flask bottle), Anna Sui Night of Fancy, Oriflame Paradise and Burberry Body are a few more of f the fragrances featuring this musk-woody component.

Another one of the advantages of this fairly inexpensive musky component is that it has a medium potency in volume projection, but a long trail that surpasses a full day's length. Being a mild sensitiser, its ratio is currently restricted to no more than 2% of the compound.

It's clear we will be seeing it more and more admitted as such in official perfume press releases in the years to come.

Frag Name of the Day: Elaborating on How to Pronounce French Perfume Names

I don't know how many of you have been familiarised with French names in perfumes and perfume houses. Probably most, since you're reading here, but there has been a big demand for a guide into the right pronunciantion, especially among the English language native speakers who are often at a loss in front of the vowels and accents and all the bells & whistles that other European languages possess; for better or worse.
In the past I had found one useful link for proper pronunciation of designers etc. names, linked here. Still, not everything was there and the completed phrase of a fragrance name might create its own intricate liaisons etc. which would alter the individualised pronunciation of each word. Those of you who know French as foreign language, as I do, understand perfectly well what I mean.

One French-born, UK-dwelling professional translator going by the name of Bela on fragrance boards has decided to provide just what was asked for: an actual pronunciation reference with audible files instead of just phonetics for most French names, updating regularly and taking demands from readers too. Her site is called Frag Name of the Day and you can find the link here.
Now, you can't have any excuses on mispronouncing, since correct pronunciation is but a click of the mouse away! So you can save yourself the embarassement of the protagonist in Paul Verhoeven's movie Show Girls when she pronounces Versace as "Ver-sayce". (Wait, that's Italian! Well, we can't have it all, I guess). Regardless...kudos for massive work done.

phonetics: not exactly accurate...

Further on: What does Bela think on fragrance names as someone who occupies herself with them as much, the French attitude towards perfumes vs. the British attitude, the rising Arabian-style perfumery with the names to correspond (will they eclipse the French?) and other assorted perfume questions? Here's a short interview she granted Perfume Shrine for your pleasure. Enjoy!

1. The website Frag Name of the Day began as the reply to the demand of MUAers and perfume lovers on boards questioning the correct pronunciation of French names. Is it very annoying having companies naming their fragrances in French though they don't have any business doing so or they're mixing up French and English (such as Miller Harris)? What would you say to them if you could?

I don’t mind foreign companies giving French names to their perfumes – as long as they are grammatically correct and follow all the rules about genders and adjective agreements, etc. This is not a new phenomenon. French companies do it too. They believe it gives their products a certain cachet. An interesting experiment would be to market the same juice under two different names and see which sells better. As for names that combine words from two languages, I find them moronic. English and French are both incredibly rich languages, it shouldn’t be too hard to come up with beautiful/witty/evocative names in either language without resorting to a mishmash/jumble/gallimaufry/hotchpotch. LOL! That’s what I would say to those unimaginative companies.

2. Do you think that simply put "a French name sells" when it comes to perfumes? (i.e. goes with the territory) Or could it backfire? How if so? 

I expect a French name sells otherwise companies wouldn’t carry on doing it, would they?  To a lot of people, France is synonymous with style so anything that sounds French is bound to be refined and automatically infused with elegance. Giving a product a French name in the hope that consumers will be influenced by it is lazy, but if that marketing strategy was going to backfire it would have done so a long time ago. The appetite for French names doesn’t seem to have been sated yet.

3. Do you believe – as I do – that the French have oversold their ability to corner the market on producing worthwhile perfumes? 

They’ve been at it for a very long time; do you really think they’re losing their grip? Even if they don’t actually corner the market any longer, it doesn’t mean they aren’t still a very important player. I’m afraid I lack the specialist knowledge required to answer this question effectively.

4. Do you ever correct Sales Associates when they mispronounce a fragrance name? 

You would expect me to, wouldn’t you? LOL! I never do. I pronounce names correctly and, if it’s met with an uncomprehending look, I repeat them with an English accent. The only time I correct SAs is when they try to make me believe some BS about the products they’re selling.

5. As a professional translator between the two languages (French & English) why do you think that the British often "mangle" the French language and the French often "mangle" the English language? Is it intentional? Is it historical reasons behind it? 

I don’t think the Brits mangle the French language or the French the English language intentionally. Why would they do that? Surely the primary purpose of learning a language is to be able to communicate and mispronouncing things creates obstacles to this communication. The British mouth is not made for the French language, and vice versa: English requires a relaxed tongue and loose jaws; French is a ‘stiff’ language. Anglophones have problems with French genders; French grammar is very difficult, etc. etc. They’re just so different. It could also have something to do with the way they are taught (I was very lucky: my first English teacher was a Brit. I learned to pronounce basic sounds accurately from the start. I never went ‘ze ze ze’.) That said, I’m not sure I agree with you about those two nationalities being the worst offenders. I’ve heard French being very badly spoken by a lot of people, and here in London I hear English being massacred daily by almost every foreigner I come across.

By the way, since one can only translate accurately and with flair into one’s mother tongue, I never take on work that involves translating into English. Also, translating into a foreign language is not the done thing – from an ethical point of view.

6. As a French-born living permanently in the UK, which nation has a "better" scent profile in your opinion? And what constitutes a "better" scent profile anyway? Is it education, personality, a familiarity with the sensuous world, what? [ed.note: I had presented my own views on this on this article called "Why the French (and other Europeans) grown up to love scents while Americans don't"]

You must know I’m going to say France. It’s to do with lifestyle. The French know how to enjoy life: good food, good wine, and other earthly pleasures. It probably has something to do with being Catholic too. Britain is still a Puritan country in many ways. The weather has a part to play too, I expect. British perfumes are so wishy-washy and thin.

7. Is the Arabic trend the latest thing because Europe has ceased to sound exotic to Americans (and maybe the British too)? And will we need an Arabic Frag Name of the Day soon? :-)

Has Europe ceased to sound exotic to Americans? I don’t think so. Yurp is still the destination of choice for most Americans, and thanks to the Eurostar it’s on Britain’s doorstep these days. Arabic names have always sounded exotic, haven’t they? Could it be that they’re more noticeable these days because wealthy Arabs are currently being courted by some companies? I really don’t know. By rights, we should be seeing more Chinese names soon too. An Arabic Frag Name of the Day would definitely be quite useful. Anyone want to emulate me? All you need is a computer, a microphone, a copy of Audacity and a blog where you can post sound files… oh, and plenty of time.

8. Which is you favorite perfume right now and why? 

Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens has been my signature scent for the past six years. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever smelled; I can never get enough of the kerosene top note and the mellow dry down. I’ve tried to be unfaithful; I’ve had very short liaisons with other fragrances in those six years, but I always come back to it. I doubt I will ever find anything to replace it.

Hermes Equipage: fragrance review

If Calèche encapsulates perfumer Guy Robert's idea of a great taste feminine perfume, then Équipage is his idea of the perfect masculine; sober, handsome, restrained, graceful. These two Hermès fragrances embody both the house's easy, effortless elegance aesthetic (you can imagine them as "old money" contrasted with nouveau rich) and Guy Robert's idea that only a "lived-in" ambience about a scent makes it truly romantic; if you need more proof you can just test out Madame Rochas and his other marvels (Amouage Gold, Dioressence etc).

Scent Description 
Aromatic, spicy and woody, the brief for Équipage was based on the success of Monsieur Rochas, composed by the same perfumer (Guy Robert) just one year prior, demanding the scent of a "cold pipe".  Word has it that Jean Louis Sieuzac also worked on this one. The smokiness is there all right (I'm hypothesizing birch tar to give a smoked leather note, reminiscent of the Cuir de Russie type of scents), but there's pungent dryness instead of the usual rum casket fantasies of honeyed milky tobacco; such as the ones evoking languorous Turkish escapades that Lutens brings to his Fumerie Turque, to cite but one example.  Liatris is an interesting note: it possesses both a herbaceous facet on one end and a hay & tobacco facet with only a subtly vanillic undercurrent on the other end, so it balances off nicely the bitter, pungent top notes of Équipage, reinforcing the concept of a smoking pipe.

Équipage is resolutely old-school and conservative smelling ~therefore probably anathema to anyone under 40, unless they have a perfume obsession~ and like an experienced acrobat balances between strength and finery, between the rustic herbs, the bitterness of the clary sage opening and the bite of cloves, on a base of smooth wood notes and a little sweet floral touch, a combination as dependable as a gentleman of the old guard. The florals cited in official notes description give only half the truth: the lily of the valley gives but crispness, the rosewood a profusion of linalool (that ingredient familiar from classic lavender), the carnation adds a clovey tint, as carnation composing was done by utilizing clove essence.
The true character of the fragrance evolves from the evolution of the aromatic, rustic and bitter herbal essences into rich woody, earthy notes in the drydown with a tinge of leather notes. In this it is in the same league as the equally magnificent Derby by Guerlain, which epitomizes the smooky woody fragrance genre; perhaps the Guerlain is a bit more balsamic and greener than the Hermès.

Who is it for?
I can vividly picture Équipage on a tweed-clad man out in the woods, lithe, supply riding his horse with his gun between horse bridles and saddle, leather lapels & patches on the jacket, having a good time only to return home when the sun is beginning to set. Perhaps it's so old-school that such a picture doesn't really seem ridiculous or overblown. Hermès at any rate likes to emphasize its "team player" name, showing the bottle over the photo of a rowing team. Cool, I get it. That's got to be some posh British college we're talking about, where the idea of a team spells dedication and loyalty and doesn't mess with anyone's individuality. Équipage smells perfectly individual nowadays, sticking like a diamond ring among graphite pencils, so perhaps my modern take is skewed. I suppose more men smelled in some variation of this liquid nectar back then....and oh boy, weren't those the times.

Équipage seems perfectly at ease on a smoker too, a heavy one at that, fusing with the remnants of the ashtray scent on the clothes into producing something delightful rather than repelling. No wonder in this age of cigarette demonisation Équipage looks like an outcast. Most interestingly this masculine eau de toilette works well in both the hot and cold season and lasts equally impressively, as it seems to morph to suit the weather. Winter brings out its crispness of sweet earth and woods. Summer heat highlights its cooling herbal, almost mentholated effect and its spicy kick.

I am a bit at a loss on how it would be possible to recommend it be worn by women, evocative as it is of virile-looking men like Sean Connery, however I have to share that I indulge myself in my vintage bottle more often than I'd care to admit. Perhaps there's something to be said about women embracing the idea of wearing a virile scent from time to time...

Vintage vs Modern Équipage 
The vintage versions of Équipage bear a light brown cap with a screw top design; the modern is sparse, black, architectural. The modernised version, available at  Hermès boutiques and department stores with a big selection of Hermès fragrances where you will have to ask for it by name, has attenuated some of the pungency and projection of this fragrance, without messing too much with its bouquet garni of herbs. If anything it's more citrusy and terpenic now than leathery, but not by much.

Notes for Hermès Équipage: 
Top: bergamot, rosewood, lily of the valley, clary sage, tarragon, marjoram
Middle: jasmine, carnation, pine, hyssop, liatris (a herbaceous perennial)
Base: Vetiver, patchouli, tonka bea, amber