Perfume and Pets Named After It: a Unique Trait

I don't know about you, but if I had a pet I'd name it Opium. It'd create all sorts of quizzical looks from general folks in the street (the name being also euphonically pretty much the same in Greek as it is in English), interesting conversations with budding acquaintances ("let's get home so I can show you my Opium") and most importantly of all it reflects a small part of my own personality: my love for the (original, vintage) formula of Yves Saint Laurent's Opium perfume and its shadowy id.

I know of a perfumista with a poodle named Jicky and another whose cat is named Mitsouko. Both classic Guerlain perfumes and they do make a fascinating name for a pet. Another, less mysteriously, calls her parrot Chloe (it's a she and it fits her like a T, even though yes, Chloe is a woman's name all right apart from the perfume). I have an online friend and fellow perfumista who loves cats as much as she loves perfume. One of my male friends when asked what fragrance name he'd pick for a male dog companion said Kouros (after the YSL perfume). Hmmm...that would make for a seriously static pooch, I'd bet. Anyway...

In all these cases the name serves as both an evocation of the beloved fragrance and a sonorous, usually short enough, name that is relatively unusual. Do perfumistas have a penchant for distinguishing themselves in general, going for the path less trodden, or do they simply have their obsession manifest itself in more ways than it seems possible at first glance? Possibly both.

So, do share in the comments, do you have a pet named after a beloved perfume? Would you have liked to? 

This post was in part inspired by the perfume horoscope suggestions by Hieronymus on Fragrantica and by an old thread on MakeupAlley.

Le Labo Limette 37 (San Francisco exclusive): fragrance review

One of my better English teachers was a longtime resident of San Francisco; in fact she had met her husband in the City by the Bay, which, given the place's gaydar and the couple's subsequent breakup -due to his not wanting children, ever- might have been an ominous sign she might have noticed beforehand. But the fact remains -and I was reminded of it recently coming across Limette 37 by Le Labo- that I was tenderly and gingerly spoon-fed from a very young age the pure magic that this most cinematic of American cities presents: the Golden Bay bridge, the roads going up & down, perfect for car chase scenes such as in Bullitt, Basic Instinct and Jade, the small cafes, the buildings charmingly retro (and almost never do they hide a wacko like in Pacific Heights), the fishermen and the earthquakes (that last bit so eerily familiar to my Greek existence that I felt like kin) and of course the dolly zoom distorted views from Vertigo...Ah, my heart sighs.

Come to think of it, and with the eyes of a foreigner, it's always amazing how much a film depiction of a place creates an impression that is different and yet at the same time somehow captive of its innermost charm (Admit it, didn't any of you fall all over in love again with London upon watching this scene from The Parent Trap with the lovely The Las song in the background? OK, I digress, but...)
So, if like me you have always dreamt of San Francisco as an impossible ectoplasm rather than a real place you can step your foot on, you might have had higher expectations from a fragrance sold exclusively there. You might have even though it would "represent" this eidolon, though obviously Le Labo didn't (and wouldn't) go there. {The folks state it so ever so clearly on their site, man: "Don't expect Le Labo's San Francisco exclusive to be a chilly summer fog essence or the Golden Gate in a bottle. Limette 37's reference to The City is abstract"}

Limette 37 is certainly not unpleasant; in fact it is quite pleasant indeed (and absolutely unisex in feel) and I bet it would go down well with lots of people and have random folks pronounce "you smell good!" blah blah blah. The opening is nicely cologne-y with bergamot and petit-grain, slightly bitter and surprisingly softened with coolish vetiver. A small segment of warmth is peeping through, a touch of spice, a little sweetness reminding me of innocent linden flowers, just so. Upon drying down Limette 37 reveals lots of subtle, creamy clean musks that have a humming tenacity (and which are almost the only thing left at the mark of 2 hours's wear, perfect cover-up if you have seriously embraced the hippie "naturalness" popular in SF in the 1960s if you know what I mean, and a pain in the butt if you require your expensive perfumes to smell for longer than that).

My gripe is that you can probably achieve that effect with lots of other scents on the market (see our Skin Scents article for more fragrance suggestions, including some from the same company), without forking the big bucks for an exclusive release, nor having to jump through hoops to get to San Francisco to buy this latest Le Labo fragrance. In fact being sandwiched into the summer 2013 release trio by Le Labo, the other two being the excellent Ylang 49 and Lys 41, Limette 37 is even more leaving something to be desired.

For that reason, Limette 37 can't go into my "must own" list. Whether it will go into yours is a question of means (in both senses of the word) vs. opportunity. Currently and only up till October 15th, the Le Labo city exclusives are available online at the Le Labo site.

Official notes for Le Labo Limette 37: bergamot, petit-grain, jasmine, clove, vetiver, musk, tonka bean.

For those paying attention to visuals: stills are (of course) from top to bottom from the films Bullitt, Jade, Vertigo and Basic Instinct. I decided to use some of the less predictable shots from those (opting for black & white in two cases), in order to convey the non representative nature of it all. The scent is nothing like the reputation of either film and is its own thing. I just plead to be allowed to have my fun, that's all. 

Make Perfume, Not War: Gerard Ghislain Presents a Humanitarian Fragrance

"Les enfants ont the solution, the solution sont les enfants "
~Gerald Ghislain
(i.e. The children have the solution, the solution is the children).

What would happen if wearing a perfume became a call to action? With this question Gerard Ghislain, perfumer and founder of Histoires de Parfums (as well as of lines The Scent of Departure and Alice & Peter) presents his new offering, called "Make Perfume, Not War". The proud father of 4 children, Ghislain always had an affinity for sponsoring a cause that would help children in need. He felt now was the right time to get into action.

Perfume for humanitarian purposes isn't new (let's remember Jabu by Mona di Orio or the Le Labo Tokyo wider release for the relief of earthquake-hit Japan), but every effort counts. For every bottle of Make Perfume Not War sold a portion (50$) of the proceeds will be donated to support and protect children in need around the world. The buyer actually gets to choose which cause will receive his contribution, the range including 5 subjects: sports, education, technology, art or women's microfinance.

Make Perfume Not War is a unisex fragrance that opens with citrusy notes of orange, lemon, grapefruit, mandarin and bergamot segueing into a floral fruity heart of mango, pineapple, peach, freesia, lilac, and cyclamen which finishes on an aromatic and woody accord.

To make it even more valuable Make Perfume Not War will only be produced in a limited 1,000 numbered bottles of 120ml retailing at 205$ from September 15th, 50 of which will be donated to the fund with the aim to achieve in a short time the benchmark of $ 50,000. The fragrance will be exclusively available for purchase at the dedicated website www.makeperfumenotwar.org.

The site does not currently state which Children's Associations they're working with or how the buyer will ascertain of his/her contribution getting to the proper hands (they only state" The fund is regulated by the French government and the accounts are reviewed yearly by public officials") but I trust that this small technical matter will soon be clarified, as the sign "soon" upon hitting the "Learn more" button promises to.

Giorgio Armani Si: fragrance review

It wouldn't be inaccurate to claim that Sì, the latest feminine fragrance by Giorgio Armani, is L'Oreal's (the parent company of Armani parfums) answer to the commercial success of Lancôme's La Vie Est Belle from the previous year. Both are competent but rather forgettable perfumes that are sure to capture and retain the demographic they're aimed at: 35-50 year old women seeking something a little more sophisticated than the average fruity floral at department stores, while still not shocking anyone with their limp-wristed, yet persistent, wake of scent.

They're the Empire State Building rather than the strikingly asymmetrical Reykjavík’s Harpa Concert Hall & Conference Center. The tousled hair rom-com heroine rather than Irene Dunne. And a predictably lyrical novel that reads like a self-help book by Paulo Coelho rather than Orhan Pamuk. No, strike the last aphorism out: the fragrances in question are not Coelho-bad, surely!

Several small details point to the correlation between the two scents, Sì and La vie est belle. I mean.
The blackcurrant top note revisits a theme that was forgotten for long (First by Van Cleef & Arpels brought it into the scene and it's famously giving the piquancy in niche cult L'Ombre Dans l'Eau by Diptyque). They share a small fruity lactonic chapter (reminiscent of peach and pear). They both are buttressed by the familiar contemporary patchouli with woody-smelling Iso E Super and musks, plus a cotton candy vanilla note that -especially in the Lancome fragrance- instantly references Angel to anyone's mind. In Sì, the feel of a nouveau chypre (see our article for more on those) is enhanced by a cosmetics-smelling chord that is feminine and subtly intimate: the rosy note is simply put buoyed by soft, powdery violets like in many lipsticks and face powders.
Giorgio Armani's Sì is less sweet overall, with a drier, less cushion-like ambience. The cleaned-up feel and powdery abstraction recall segments of Knowing, a forgotten 1980s perfume by Estée Lauder. As per the perfumer, Christine Nagel of Mane, the base of Armani Sì includes Orcanox, which is another name for Ambroxan or Ambrofix (an aromachemical with an abstract woody-ambery scent aiming to recall natural ambergris), that gives great diffusion and tenacity to modern fragrances; indeed this Armani is one of them.

The official fragrance notes for Guorgio Armani Sì include blackcurrant, freesia, rose, vanilla, patchouli, blond woods, orcanox.

The choice of actress extraordinaire Cate Blanchett as the fronting woman for Armani's latest fragrance ("Cate Blanchett says Sì" -i.e. "yes" in Italian- is the motto of the campaign) has created the expectation of something truly exceptional and smart, like she is herself -the modern equivalent of Katherine Hepburn. Maybe the stakes were just too high. Sì just couldn't possibly live up to it or the "chypre reinvented" perfumista-nod on top of this. That doesn't mean it's not a pleasant fragrance; you could do much worse in the department store circuit, I'd wager.
Lovely bottle (in 1, 1.7 and 3.4oz of eau de parfum at major department stores), reminiscent of the Armani Privé perfume bottles aesthetic, a nice bonus.

Below, watch the official film for Giorgio Armani Sì (rather uninspired if you ask me, though beautifully shot by director Anne Fontaine) and a small interview with Christine Nagel where she explains the fundamental blocks of the perfume composition.

Painting Your Perfume On: New Fragrance Application Techniques

A fine brush for calligraphy. The deep, saturated hue of India ink. Nasta'liq and Aśoka, cursive and littera antiqua. And the brushstroke of the painter, both figurative and abstract. Perhaps all these are too good a reference or a visual association not to bring them together with that most elusive of transient sensual stimuli: fragrance.

In a move that is not exactly novel* (but which is revisited anew and looks like it will be catching on), perfume application tips will from hereon include painting on the fragrance juice on your skin. Yes, you read that right. See by Chloé is introducing a new parfum flacon, perfectly mimicking the one containing their latest clean musky & woody See by Chloé fragrance, in a limited edition of 15ml called "Paint a Scent" (it launched two days ago, retailing for 35 euros). The sensual gesture to apply with its delicate small brush, on to the neck, the decolletage and the inside of wrists or back of knees is something that can only induce even more pleasure in the heart of the perfume lover. Perhaps not as refreshing as spritzing your fragrance in the air (and getting a maximum burst of the effervescent top notes in the process) or as traditionally honed as dabbing from a vial, this technique nevertheless presents its own merits.

For one, applying with a brush looks more poetic, recalling calligraphy and intimate games between lovers (to witness both in action, go read or watch The Pillow Book). Secondly, the brush application allows for less accidents than dabbing, offering a measured application. Of course, just like with dabbing from a vial, you're transferring a bit of natural skin oil and dead cell debris back into the bottle with each application, but careful use would minimize this problem.

Swedish brand Oriflame, who orders perfumes to the well-known big manufacturing companies, has already devoted a small collection of mini-vial-for-the-purse in their more youthful "Very Me" fragrance range. They look friendly like nail varnish and come in an assortment of "styles".

My prediction is we will be seeing many many more fragrance brands with a tiny paint brush inside...


*Historically, for those with a sharp eye and a long memory, the paint on option ingrained in the actual bottle of perfume was introduced with Desnuda by Emanuel Ungaro in 2001(presented with a very sensualist campaign -seen on top of post- and a bottle that worked both ways: paint on AND spray). However the perfume flopped. In the meantime, consumers became very much acclimatized to the paint brush application thanks to the ubiquity of the built-in pen-paint illuminators & concealers (pioneered by Yves Saint Laurent and the iconic Touche Eclat), the subsequent rise of the Youtube-trained amateur makeup artist and the market craze for nail polish. Now the consumer looks like she's ready to apply her fragrance the same way.