The Quest for the Perfect Vanilla Perfume (Vanilla Series)

In moments of mental inertia, I tried to note down every vanilla fragrance out there and then critically assess it. A task as easy as climbing Mount Kilimanjaro with bare hands and feet clad in Louboutins. There are virtually thousands of perfumes (not to mention body products) with a predominant vanilla impression, all vying for the "best vanilla fragrance in the market". And it became especially difficult taking into account that vanilla -like rose- is one of those fragrance notes that tend to leave me with a "huh, is this all there is to it" face; no doubt due to saturation of the market, unidentified traumatic experiences buried into my deep unconscious and the fact that I don't like "easy" things. And vanilla, no matter how you slice it, is "easy".

Easy in the sense that it is comforting, it provides cushioning, insulation from the cruel cold world, a retreat to the womb and the primal joys of breast milk and sustenance. Breast milk is indeed lightly vanillic, sweetish in nature (don't ask how I know) and it's no accident that baby food (as well as many baby care products) are lightly flavored and/or scented with vanilla scent, nor that men are, allegedly, attracted to the scent of vanilla acting as an aphrodisiac. (It's best not to dwell too much on what Oedipal complications such an assertion would imply in Freudian terms.)
According to the Australian Orchid Society, "Old Totonac lore has it that Xanat, the young daughter of the Mexican fertility goddess, loved a Totonac youth. Unable to marry him due to her divine nature, she transformed herself into a plant that would provide pleasure and happiness – that plant was the Vanilla vine. This reputation was much enhanced in 1762 when a German study found that a medication based on vanilla extract cured impotence — all 342 smiling subjects claimed they were cured."
Of course one would have to go for organic, natural vanilla extract for that, surely (not to mention that raw beef meat was also considered an aphrodisiac for men in the early 20th century and let's see how many listeria cases there were because of it), but that never stopped the advertising machine from claiming claims they can't support. Personally I have yet to find the man who is mesmerized by pure unadulterated vanilla. It's believe it's just a component with familiarity value to them when picked in a blend; would you have expected them to recognize vetiver, saffron, Ambroxan or ylang ylang? I didn't think so...

Vanilla's appeal is actually much simpler than all that: it's a mental connection with a time when we felt nurtured. Or rather vanillin is. But let's take things at the top. 

Vanillin is not exactly vanilla, as it lacks the depth and richness of "real vanilla" (Vanilla planifolia). This simple molecule, and ethyl vanillin as well, are routinely produced not from the vanilla orchid (an exotic plant that bears dark, blackish pods that when sliced yield their aromatic essence, rich in -yes- vanillin) but from lignin (a byproduct of the wood pulp industry) or from guaiacol. The form that vanillin is routinely presented in commercially is whitish crystals available for baking at the aisles of supermarkets across Europe or diluted into a carrier liquid in the USA. Scents that highlight vanilla can be simple, foodie stuff focusing on, exactly, baking vanilla (i.e. vanillin) which brings on memories of baking with mum, or they can be much more complex affairs where boozy notes reminiscent of rum or whiskey appear and regress at times. Vanilla perfumes can even lean tropical, with floral facets that recall coconut and sweet nectarous leis to the point you can hear the tam-tams in the background. There are perverse, marine vanillas, outré and left field, and there are anisic or spicy vanillas which are not as wholesome as the butter cookies you baked with your grandmother. In short, there are as many variations on vanilla as there are in...well,  there aren't that many variations in vanilla sex, but you know what I mean. 

So here begins a guide into the Top Vanilla Fragrances, which will take the form of a Perfume Shrine series, so as to tackle each and every category, therefore making it easier to pinpoint just what you like and hopefully branch out a bit more. While there we will question received wisdom, dispel some common myths and re-ascertain truths where they may be.

It did take me a while to arrive at the selection, so you won't find everything under the sun in those posts, but if you have a suggestion that you consider particularly good to miss, please add it in the comments below. If you stumbled on this post through Google and want to read about Vanilla Perfume Recommendations, please click on the Vanilla Series tab here. 

Givenchy Ysatis: fragrance review & history & free perfume giveaway

Ysatis remains among the most memorable perfume launches of my childhood, alongside Cacharel's Loulou, mainly due to the commercial that accompanied it, much like Faure's dreamy Pavane did for the latter. In the Greek version, a marvelously sonorous, rhyming phrase was able to be coined for the launch, a fact that would be difficult to accomplish in any other language:  "Αναζητείς το Υζαντίς" it went (a-na-zee-TEES toh ee-sah-TEES), roughly meaning that the love-struck male that would smell it would be forever seeking the source of the fragrant Ysatis. It does lend one to daydreaming, doesn't it. Especially to an impressionable, already obsessed with perfumes, mind such as mine, back in 1984.
The reality, as is often the case with perfumes, is far more prosaic: Jean Courtiere, president of Parfums Givenchy, came up with the name, while searching ~as is the formal naming process~ for something non copyrighted, non insulting in any known language and mellifluous enough to be catchy. Ysatis it was and it stuck.

The story

I also vividly recall that Ysatis was accompanied by images of carnival, chess board games and Venetian masks, a fact that I mistakenly attributed it to the masterminds at the advertising company borrowing heavily from the Venezia by Laura Biagiotti popularity, at its apex during the early 1990s, but it looks like it was done in reverse. (disregard the art school project ones posing as authentic). Accurately enough, my memory is as it should be: not only is the architectural Art-Deco-meets-skyscraper bottle of Ysatis posing as a chess piece itself, the commercial is set to a scene from the Venetian carnival (to the succeeding scoring of Hendel's Sarabande, immortalized in Kubrick's Barry Lynton, and of Folias d'Espagna by Arcangelo Corelli): the intrigued, love-struck man in question is seeking the glamorous, 1940s vague-coiffed and 1980s made-up woman behind the mask, the truth behind the glamorous facade. It all stood as very impressive and to this day I think they involuntarily captured a huge part of perfume's intellectual appeal; what is it that makes us want to peel the layers off a person like the beige-purple petticoats off an onion?

I'm relaying all these very personal associations to drive to the fact that Parfums Givenchy had a nice, long-standing tradition in my house, as my grandfather was a devotee of Givenchy Gentleman (1974), my mother occasionally dabbed from Givenchy III (1970) and my father had an amorous relationship with Xeryus (1986) many moons ago. So falling for Ysatis wasn't far fetched at all and taking in mind the first perfume I bought with my pocket money was YSL Opium, it seemed like a natural enough progression into the abyss into perfume appreciation. In fact the fragrance was so popular in Greece that a local fashion "chain" is still named after it.

Searching for this perfume these past couple of days I come across Ysatis advertised as "the perfume of power". But this is not what it stood for for me. Perceptions have significantly changed and we're not the creatures we were in the 1980s, when everything seemed possible, even gassing out everyone in the room with one's scent fumes, but Ysatis, poised as it is between three categories (floral, oriental and chypre) in its complex formula, has the tremendous force to evoke a time when one felt untouchable.
It sounds rather perverse and morbid choice for a teen, but I kinda think I was morbid all along. We did listen to lots of Joy Division and Cure and Siouxie & the Banshees and read Poe poems and gothic tales, so I suppose it wasn't just me.

The scent of Ysatis 

The main fragrance story of Givenchy Ysatis is unfolded in pummeling, sultry and creamy smelling essences of orange flower, ylang ylang and tuberose, brightened by the citrusy but sweetish oil of mandarin and chased by animal fragrance notes (smells like heaps of civet to me and there's also castoreum) and some spice in the base (the unusual for a feminine fragrance bay rum as well as clove). It's pretty "whoa, what the hell hit me?" at any rate. Like Gaia, The Non Blonde, says: "Ysatis is not for the meek or those still figuring out their style and taste". Word. If you have liked and worn Organza (also by Givenchy) in the 1990s, or Cacharel Loulou, and Ubar by Amouage, you have high chances of claiming Ysatis with the clinging tenderness usually reserved for Nutella jars.

Ysatis was composed by Dominique Ropion, maker of such ebullient, expansive fragrances as Amarige, Pure Poison, Carnal Flower, Portrait of a Lady, Une Fleur de Cassie, Alien, RL Safari, Flowerbomb or Kenzo Jungle, among many many others.




Ysatis has been reformulated and repackaged, though not ruined in the process; it's till Amazonian and lusciously haute bourgeois. Still if you're searching for the older formula, it comes in the black box vs. the newer purple one. The original bottles even read Ysatis de Givenchy. There is also a flanker, Ysatis Iris, also in a purple box, though that one has a purple hued bottle as well and of course the moniker "Iris" just below the name. Still, keep a sharp eye when shopping, as it's a rather different scent (focusing on violet & iris note sandwiched between the citrusy top and floriental bottom).

I have a generous miniature of vintage Ysatis for a lucky winner. Please state in the comments what was your favorite 1980s scent and what scents you'd like to see featured in the Underrated Perfume Day feature on Perfume Shrine. Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight and winner will be announced sometime on Monday.

For more entries and fragrance reviews of Underrated Perfumes please click on the link and scroll.

Bond Night at Ormonde Jayne with Gifts & Discounts

For one day, tomorrow Thursday 28th November, Ormonde Jayne offers 20% discount for orders in person at the boutique and by phone at +44 (0)207 499 1100 and +44 (0) 207 730 1381 as well as a complimentary Bathil Oil which retails for 56GBP for the first 15 clients to purchase in store from 6pm.

This offer is eligible for the Royal Arcade boutique on 28 Old Bond Street, London, UK.
The party involving champagne and mince pies starts from 6pm-8pm.
Merry shopping!

L'Artisan Parfumeur Re-Issues a Much Requested Perfume as Limited Edition for Spring 2014

Each year, L’Artisan Parfumeur’s spring limited edition is a much-anticipated event for fragrance aficionados and collectors. For 2014, the iconic Parisian fragrance house re-releases a discontinued fragrance which has been much requested and sought after by its many fans, the almondy Jour de Fête.

This Eau de Toilette was created in 2003 by Olivia Giacobetti, a perfumer long associated with the creativity and originality of L’Artisan Parfumeur. It plays with the symbol of traditional French celebrations: “la dragée” (the sugar- coated almond). Jour de Fête was imagined as a fresh almond surrounded by a layer of icing sugar, and as almond flour with a taste of wheat and honey. Jour de Fête, meaning ‘Happy Day’ or ‘Festival Day,’ is a delicious celebration of this sweet symbol of French celebrations, with its crispy sugary coat melting into a subtle vanilla. Light and airy, the dragée transports us to the wheat fields of the French countryside, reminiscent of the insouciance of childhood. Jour de Fête is a flamboyant yet delicate fragrance, a treat for special days.

The eau de toilette will be retailing for 55 GBP for 100ml, available from March 2014.

info via press release

The winner of the draw...

...for the Jil Sander miniature is Sniffeuse. Congratulations and please e-mail me (with Sander winnner in the title) using Contact with your shipping data, so I can have this out to you soon.

Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one!