Tabu by Dana: fragrance review & free vintage perfume giveaway

Tabu by Dana has always had a reputation wickeder than its actual self ("for women who wear their knickers on their heads" [1]), like a girl at high school that everyone thought was promiscuous, while in fact she had being going steady with the older mysterious guy from college. Let's just describe it in style or literary terms: it's not the sort of perfume you'd envision on Audrey Hepburn, but rather on Constance Chatterley. Someone who, although not promiscuous, is not only full aware but exhibiting of the pressing need of their sexual urges.

It all goes back to Javier Sera, the founder of the Spanish house of Dana, who had apparently asked for "un parfum de puta" (a whore's brew) from his perfumer Jean Carles. This was surrealist times back in 1932, so the modern shock should be minimized. The publication of Totem and Taboo [2] had already come 2 decades ago, therefore the name had gained a widespread familiarity and at the same time that frisson of the forbidden it truly represents. Tabu was to be the ultimate "fragrance taboo" now that the divides of society thanks to the aftermath of WWI had crumbled in several cases. Dana's Tabu would reprise for good the dubious essences that the demi-monde alone enjoyed during La Belle Epoque, rendering it both a unity unto itself and segregating it from polite society. Dana thus exploited the awakened sensuality which lift the lid in the two decades between the two World Wars and the wanderlust therein not dormant anymore. Its exceedingly successful course in the market for several decades indicates that this was not just relevant to those times. We can see its impact on both En Avion (Caron, same year, same general concept but played on the leather chypre scale) and the more powdery oriental Bal a Versailles (Desprez, 1962), not to mention milestones such as  Youth Dew, YSL Opium and Coco by Chanel.

Carles, who had not yet lost his sense of smell and worked at Roure, composed a classic, a formula that took the oriental "mellis accord" and gave it wings pulling into two different but equally potent directions: one was the spicy floral & patchouli chord (composed via eugenol, spices and patchouli) and the other the brontide notes of civet, labdanum and musk. The full formula contains also benzyl salicylate and hydroxycintronellal for added radiance and oomph and indeed putting a few drops of even the lighter concentrations of Tabu on the skin amount to having a full on orchestra accompanying your solitary whistling tune. The lighter, citric or floral notes (bergamot, orange blossom, neroli and a heart of rose and ylang) only act as see through veils under which we can gaze at Salome's voluptuous body. A kind of sophisticated apodyopsis fit for a psychoanalyst's couch: one can only imagine the naked body underneath the clothes that waft Tabu. True to its advertising "when Tabu becomes a part of you, you become apart of all others" and despite its carnal reputation it wears as a very fetching, sultry but suave fragrance that both women and men can enjoy.


The advertising history of Dana's Tabu perfume makes for a whole chapter by itself, full of passionate images of torrid affairs. I have touched upon the subject on the linked post, so if you're curious take a peak.

Tabu is still available at drugstores and online, though the modern formulations are thinned out and lacking a certain "kick" compared to 30 years ago. This is the reason I'm offering a vintage miniature to one lucky reader as a small Xmas gift. Post a comment below to enter. Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight and winner will be announced sometime on Monday.

[1]Susan Irvine in the Perfume Guide, 2000. 
[2]Sigmund Freud, Totem and Taboo: Similarities between the lives of savages and neurotics, 1913.

Making your Own Rich Vanilla Extract & Savory Vanilla Bean Sauce (Vanilla Series)

There's something deeply satisfying about making your own condiments at home. The swirls of caramel, the folding of cocoa dust into coconut shreds, the steeping of hot, fragrant spices into boozy liquids wafting their own magic in the kitchen is irresistible for the sensualist in all of us. Therefore when I was researching, while composing my Vanilla Series (compiling a guide into the best vanilla fragrances), I came across some delicious recipes which can whet the driest of lips and put a creative spin to the hands of even the laziest cook.

These are easy to make (I have personally tweaked & tested the recipes to ensure it) and would provide for especially fetching and heart-warming homemade gifts to offer when invited over the holidays. All you'll need are a few pretty looking jars, some bottles and decorative ribbons.

via Pinterest

Homemade Vanilla Extract

The quality of the raw materials is what makes this shine, otherwise it doesn't really require any specific skills. You will need 20 good, real preferably organic black vanilla beans, a couple of liters of premium 80 proof vodka, clear bottles with a cap, and a funnel to decant liquid into, and a week (or a month if you can spare it!) of steeping time.

You start by putting the beans whole (non peeled) into the glass bottles (divide them according to how many bottles you will fill) and carefully decanting vodka till the beans are immersed whole into the alcohol. Cap them and let them sit in a bright spot. The clear liquid will start turning golden, then ambery as the days pass. The longer it sits, it stronger the flavor becomes (same principle as with homemade liqueurs).

When ready you can stick pretty labels on the bottles and put a ribbon around the neck and you're good to go! The boozy, rich vanilla extract can be added in a pleiad of recipes and beverages from freshly made cookie dough instead of commercial vanilla and in meat dishes as an interesting addition to the deglazing of the sauce to cappuccino coffee. Enjoy!

(inspired by Bethanyactually.com)

via Pinterest

Savory Vanilla Bean Sauce 

This is great to pour onto anything that would scream for a little caramel goodness, rich in the taste of authentic Madagascar vanilla, from apple pie or crumble, to ice-cream and speculoos butter cookies or shortbread. Or feel free to experiment, it's as addictive as Nutella.

You will need:

1.5 cup caster sugar
1/3 cup water
1.5 cup whipping cream (of at least 30% fat)
1 teaspoon white vanillin crystals
1 organic vanilla bean (sliced and seeded)
2 teaspoons of coarse sea salt, shredded with pestle and mortar

Put the cream in a big cup and add the vanillin, the seeded vanilla and the shredded sea salt. Stir well.
In a saucepan, heat the water and pour the sugar over medium heat. Let it cook until it gets golden, without stirring (or the spoon would stick at this point and get messy.) Gently move the pan around if you need to.
Add the cream mixture to the pan, stirring with an egg whisker continuously until the hot bubbles go down and it sets.
Let it cool a bit and pour into clear glass sterilized jars. Cap them, turn them upside down quickly (make sure the lid is secure!) and again upside down and decorate with a nice ribbon. They should keep for a week or so in the fridge.

If you want to further aromatize the sauce, you can add the zest of one orange to the water or you can mix the vanillin crystals with freshly powdered cinnamon. It adds a special something.

(inspired by bakedbree.com)

Bon appetit!!

DSH Parfums de Beaux Arts -Passport a Paris (from Passport to Paris Collection): fragrance review

The Passport to Paris Collection is a trio of perfumes exploring the fin de siècle (that is, the 19th century's prolonged swan song) which perfumer and painter Dawn Spencer Hurwitz produced in collaboration with the Denver Art Museum celebrating La Belle Epoque. Passport à Paris, primus inter pares, is Dawn's homage to the growling fougères of the late 19th century, namely Guerlain's Jicky and Houbigant's Fougère Royale; in a way closer to the real thing than one would expect, especially since the slimming regime the former has gone through via the rationing of civet. Indeed experiencing  Passport à Paris I'm left with the agonizing realization that this is the kind of perfumery we have been lamenting for lost, only we haven't quite understood that its salvation can only come through artisanship and a rebellious spirit coming not from the Old World, but from the New one.

Fittingly, the fragrance was inspired by a famous painting from the late 19th century, the eerily alienating, ennui filled Beach at Tourville by Claude Monet. In it a world of repressions the simple beachside pleasures are encapsulated with a silent tension (a sort of oil painting rendition of Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence), faces like a smear of paint, an impressionistic image of boredom or unfulfilled desires. In a way the perfume genre that got invented with the thrashing of the powerful new synthetics is a rebellious antithesis to that same ennui.

I'm not in the habit of oooh-ing and aaah-ing as I walk about the rooms in my home, but to my amazement I found myself doing just that (to the incredulous gaze of my significant other) as I had sprayed my wrists and neck with Dawn's magnificent animalic perfume Passport à Paris. Lovers of vintage Jicky, please take note. This is good stuff. This is amazing stuff. No hyperbole. A bit more lemony, citrusy up top maybe than the Guerlain classic, especially in the modern form, but soon opening to a gorgeous meowling heart of lavender, dark jasmine and rich civet paste, smooth, hay-like and plush thanks to the conspiracy of vanillin and coumarin, an orientalized unisex more than just a masculine trope reminiscent of shaving cream (if that's your idea of fougère, that's not it by a mile).
Passport à Paris is also tremendously lasting on the skin and, really, just beautiful.

I'm of the belief that too many words cheapen the experience of savoring a sensual pleasure for yourself; a bit of "analysis-paralysis", if you will. So I'm leaving you with one directive and one directive only: try it. Like, right now!


Notes for Parfums de Beaux Arts Passport à Paris:
Lemon, bergamot, French lavender, rosewood, mandarin, grandiflorum jasmine, Bulgarian rose, orris root CO2, Clover, Australian sandalwood, amber, vanillin, coumarin, ambergris, East Indian patchouli, civet

Available in the DSH e-boutique (samples start at just 5$)

In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample by the perfumer. 

A Piece of Fresh Air from the French Countryside: Air de Montquc

Scented marketing reaches new heights and the inventiveness of a young Frenchman crashes the meters of ingenuity. Are you having writer's block, a lack of creativity in your everyday life, an obstacle in the flow of the elixir vitae in your system? Don't worry, fresh air (but not just ANY fresh air, mind you) will take care of all those ailments. How would you like to literally buy the fresh air of the French countryside? Without putting a foot on French soil, that is? It's all possible, now. Someone has bottled the air of their small town and sells it by the quarter of a liter!

That someone is called Antoine and is a student of Communications who has lived in Montcuq for 7 years. He recounts his story on this link.
Montcuq is a small town in a region of France close to the Iberian peninsula, close to the Pyrenees. But the product doesn't make concessions: since it's air (well…) it has to be "consumed" all at once and you are not supposed to leave the box open, lest it evaporates too soon! The dedicated site is as bold as to claim "in order not to evacuate Montcuq of its fresh air, we limit our harvest at 10 litres of air per week". (Epic!)

The Facebook page has already amassed so many Likes that "the inventor" is promising a surprise when they reach 2000 Likes, proving that in the age of technology it suffices to ripple the pond for the ripples to reach unexpected lengths or that people have an astounding sense of humor (or desperation, take it how you will).

So for the advantageous price of 5€ you can now own 250ml of fresh Montcuq air! Or if you want the more "luxurious" Gold Edition (albeit only in packaging, as the air is…funnily enough…the same) for 12€! By the time I got to actually write this post the limited edition of 50 boxes of the Gold Edition are gone, which makes me laugh uncontrollably. Ain't life grand!

The "product" is shipped to the European Union, Switzerland, USA and Canada and anyone else can email to ask for specifics.

The box bears the distinctive disclaimer "Mise en boite a Montcuq" as if to guarantee its authenticity. Its' now literally possible to buy "hot air". To revert the famous line from Asterix "Ils sont fous ces Gaulois".

What's next? To get inspired by the pun-y name of the village itself, L'Air de Mon Cul, freshly gathered from my toilet. I bet there will be a few people actually buying it. Now, let me think of a business model…

Optical Scentsibilities: the Kiss by the Piano or The History of the Tabu Vintage Perfume Ads

Who hasn't been swept by the passion of the old Tabu by Dana perfume advertisements showing a female pianist passionately embraced and kissed by a male violinist? "Tabu, the forbidden fragrance" ("un parfum de puta", as per the fragrance brief to perfumer Jean Carles, no less) recounted to the reader that "Things  don't happen the way they used to. But they still happen." Kinda Fabbio-jacket cover dreamy, eh? In fact more artistic than initially thought of, so a great subject for our Optical Scentsibilities feature exploring the connection between art history & perfume images.

Tabu the fragrance, coming out in 1932, isn't that far removed from the painting that actually inspired the iconography of this advertisement, which is The Kreutzer Sonata painting by René François Xavier Prinet in 1901. (Itself inspired by the homonymous Leo Tolstoy novella which dramatizes a husband's jealous rage over a wife's "animal excesses" and making a case for sexual abstinence, the literary artwork itself referencing Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata, originally dedicated to the violinist George Bridgetower who by insulting the morals of a woman in Beethoven's admired list lost the dedication to his peer, Kreutzer. Talk about meta-galore and war of the sexes on this one!)

via wikipedia commons

The specific advertisement depicted on the top is only one generation ahead of the original perfume launch (please note all the ancillary products mentioned at the bottom, such as soap, dusting powder and lipstick the Tabu brand has under its belt), but boy, how had mores changed in the interim!

Tabu continued on the path of the "painting like" advertisements and has a pleiad of vintage perfume ads (as shown on a dedicated blog from 2009). Among my favorites is this one, showing a woman in front of the iconic painting, cleverly referenced in the background, reading "When Tabu becomes a part of you, you become apart from all others". (ain't that the truth!)

Finally Tabu reprised the violinist with a nude male model posing for a 1990s fashions-clad woman painter (what a genius meta-meta-comment on Dana's part!)

The transcription of the values and tropes of oil paintings into perfume advertising in particular is stunning, straddling the contradictory notions of wealth and spirituality. Using the work of art as a quote acts as a potent sign of cultural authority; in a way it confirms the wisdom and appraisal ability of the viewer and acts as a reminder of being a cultured European (or a cultured partaker of the European values of aesthetics, at the very least)

This post today brings me nicely to the observation that I had made in a previous installement of the Optical Scentsibilities articles exploring the ties of perfume advertising and art history that sometimes the image you see is not only "inspired" by a painting/iconic photo (such as "Las Meninas" did for Paco Rabanne pour Homme or the Madame de Pompadour painting by Francois bouchet did for countless "reclining" poses in recent perfume ads) but it accurately reproduces the art work down to the smallest detail, as was the case with The Divers (utilized by Guy Laroche for Horizon). or Watteau's "The Swing" reprised in 1999 by Estee Lauder for Pleasures perfume featuring their model at the time Liz Hurley.

via ebay

via wikimedia commons

A timely reminder that perfume imagery isn't as frivolous and low-brow as initially thought of.