Surreal Mums and Old Spice Rejuvenated for the 21st Century: The Mom Song Commercial is Brilliant

"Now he smells like a man and they treat him like one.". There in a nutshell you have everything you ever wanted to know about the appeal of the Old Spice products. Old Spice is manly and it makes women treat you like a man. A man, not a boy. Yes, dear reader, we're putting the scalpel on the newest goofy Old Spice commercial which has surreal, frumpy and constantly hovering mums lamenting -in song!- how their little boys have changed gears and are on the way to hell on a handbasket because they changed into Old Spice which draws feminine attention in a way not yet dreamed of. "I didn't see it coming, but it came in a can". Indeed!

Affectionately referred to as "the mom song" the new Old Spice commercial is in my opinion doing everything it sets out to do (which makes it a success): namely drawing the attention span of young males into seeing an old standby with fresh eyes. And it has such a weird, goofy, upping the ante factor cleverly built in that it can't help becoming viral.

As my perceptive reader who sent me the clip, Cacio, puts it: "Old spice was, quintessentially, grampa, certainly not something that could appeal to teens. In recent years they've been trying to reposition themselves to capture the vast male teen bodyspray market (where Axe seems to dominate). Hence a series of funny, zingy, parodistic ads, like the cult machoman ad* of a few years back which managed to be both ironic and convince males that it was after all ok to wear scents. Now this one in an even more surreal type of humor, explicitly directed at teens."

 It's unfortunate that the commercial has generated such grumpiness at dedicated fragrance groups (such as on Basenotes) who worked themselves up because -really- the target audience isn't the repeat buyers of the Old Spice in the familiar white bottle with the little ship on it and the tiny conical stopper, but the teenagers and college frat boys who buy the big spray cans sitting next to Axe/Lynx at the drugstore and the supermarket shelves. Where I'm disagreeing, sorta, with Cacio above is that Old Spice is not repositioning themselves. They have already repositioned. The commercials are the optical affirmation and seal on this repositioning. The old grampas are, alas, dying away and a new market is emerging. Instead of lamenting the "loss" of one, let's rejoice in the harvesting of another. Old Spice still smells quite good. In fact much much better than the various variants of Axe do and many, many boys' mothers online and in real life are thankful for this. Aren't you?

*Those have become modern classics and deservedly so.

Patricia de Nicolai Rose Oud: fragrance review

Couple two of the most objectionable (to me) materials, the tired by now oud perfumery base and the often stuffy, stifled rose note, and you can bet you have me checking my watch every 2 seconds like I last did when dragged to watch Star Wars episode 2 (I finally zonked out). Yet there are certain roses and certain ouds that manage to hold my interest (and there are many fragrances combing the two, so it's a demanding exercise!). Without being ecstatic, I can vouchsafe that Rose Oud  by Patricia de Nicolai is among the better ouds and simultaneously among the better roses in the market today and if you like any of those materials or the woody floral genre in general you should check it out for yourself: it's perfectly pretty with a side of fog for interest.

jenny packham/lik-usya.tumblr.com

Rose Oud does not differ in approach from the other  winter 2013-2014 "oud" release by the niche French brand, Amber Oud, in taking into stride the oudh trend and mastering it in a way that it becomes putty in dear Patricia's tender paws. The rose is woodied-up, boxed, polished, with the familiar backdrop of two standbys: patchouli and sandalwood (an Indian dream), like a beautiful blossom in a waxy sealed wooden cigar box in a land where tigers lurk and monkeys leap from beneath Bangalore ancient temples.

Delicate fruity aspects emerge out of this rose, with the underpinning of nagarmotha providing a smoky, oily facet the way oil paintings put a thick consistency even to baby pink. Nagarmotha/Cypriol is an interesting material in itself, at once earthy, grassy and smoky, with its own deep aspect that can put dusk on the daintiest girly girl stuff. Rose capitulates; what else can she do? And it's all for the better. There is no retro or potpourri vibe anywhere.

Perfectly able to be shared between the sexes, Rose Oud is another faceted briolette in the jewelry box of de Nicolai's vault, a notch less interesting than Amber Oud (which surprises with its herbal lavender character). Without breaking waves Rose Oud is perfectly nice and attractive and one can't knock that.

Notes for Patricia de Nicolai's Rose Oud:
Top: raspberry, artemisia, osmanthus
Heart: rose, lily of the valley
Base: patchouli, sandalwood, vanilla, musk, castoreum, amber, oud.

Patricia de Nicolai Amber Oud: fragrance review

Patricia de Nicolai is repositioning themselves (the new bottles being one of the hints), if intimations are any indication, and no luxury niche brand today is complete without a generous helping of the infamous oud perfume ingredient. Not that there were any audible borborygmi coming from our collective perfumista stomachs craving oud, but apparently a boy or a girl can never have too much oud; or so the aroma producing companies would make us believe. Amber Oud by de Nicolai however is oud prowling in kitten's paws, so delicate and purring you might be mistaken for thinking there is some problem with the labeling. Because Amber Oud is mostly a glorious aromatic amber fragrance with copious helpings of premium grade lavender fanned on resinous, plush notes of velvet.

via TheOtherAlice/Tumblr

The combination of amber (a 19th century trope resting on labdanum & vanillin) with oud/aloeswood is not unknown to niche or Arabian-inspired perfumes; if only in name, both Diptyque and by Kilian have utilized this blend to good effect (there's also the Rasashi and Arabian Oud brands). The nutty and musty character of the modern oud/aoud/oudh bases with their Band-Aid vibe is very well tempered by a tried & true combination that somewhat sweetens the bitterness of oud and renders it more Westernized and silky to the touch. Tonka bean and lavender is also "a marriage of true minds". This 2 by 4 is played like a quartet that produces a single harmony.



In Patricia de Nicolai's Amber Oud the blast of lavender at the beginning is the dominant force which takes you by surprise and which might make women think this is more men's gear than girly girl stuff. But they need not fear. Gents and ladies alike will appreciate the seamless procession into a balsamic smelling nucleus. The inclusion of sage is beautifully erogenous, recalling human bodies in sweat, cleverly juxtaposed with the washed brightness of the lavender and the camphorous hint of patchouli. Seekers of oud (lured by the name) might feel cheated and there is no eye-catching innovativeness in the formula itself, but de Nicolai is continuing on a path of wearable, presentable, smooth perfumes that have earned her brand a steady following.


Notes for Patricia de Nicolai Amber Oud:
Top: lavender, thyme, sage, artemisia
Heart: cinnamon, saffron, agarwood (oud), Atlas cedar, patchouli, sandalwood
Base: vanilla, tonka bean, styrax, musk, castoreum, amber.

Prescriptives Calyx: fragrance review & history

Part of PerfumeShrine's regular Underrated Perfume Day feature, I'm inspired to talk of Calyx because it strikes me as the Prometheus of hardcore (if such a strong word can be used for the genre) fruity fragrances that have dominated the late 1990s, the 2000s and 2010s market so far (and in part a culprit for the emergence of fruitchouli). Coming out as far back as 1986, an uplifting tart tropical punch splashed all over a tan California blonde right out of the shower, it subsisted on the other edge of hope, pitted as it was against the likes of Coco by Chanel, Opium by YSL, Dior's original Poison or Giorgio Beverly Hills.

Still, the cosmetics brand that issued it, Prescriptives (since out of business, except for this fragrance which is still in production and now distributed via Clinique counters), part of the Lauder Group, had the necessary market cojones to sustain its sales for years. The pure, custom-tailored image of their cosmetics was a natural fit for the idea of a pure, celestially squeezed perfume which back then had none of the connotations of sugary hard candy stickiness and hair salon peach/apple waft we associate with fruity fragrances today. Its perfumer, Sophia Grojsman, is famous for her clean but potent accords, which make use of a very different idea of feminine allure than the standard "vintage" and European concept of animalic scents that enhance -rather than conceal- the odorata sexualis and hide cigarette smoke remnants off Old World garments. Calyx was the culmination of American Artemis versus European Aphrodite: the "lean, mean, clean machine" was coming on scene for good and Lauder (who oversaw Prescriptives) had already built a generous following thanks to their sparkling clean fragrances such as White Linen and Estee. Grojsman was put to record elaborating on the cachet of fruit as feminine nectar saying "some fruit accords, like the one in Calyx, have a very pure quality. It's a different kind of sexuality, more innocent than the animal notes…And men like innocence. To them it is sexy…Fruit also carries a connotation of sin. Where would Adam and Eve have been without that apple?"

This assertion is in a nutshell the axiom of feminine mental submission. In a way these fruity scents seem to me as if they're not so subtly introducing a regression on feminism. Woman becomes a pliable little girl again, fresh and unknowing in her virginal, not yet sexualized body, which awaits the all prescient male to do the plucking. It is important to note that contrary to similar concepts of youthful, nubile allure brandished in European brand fragrances of the time (such as Loulou by Cacharel) the girl in question is never presented to be aware of her own erotic capital as an authentic Lolita would be. Rather the innocence is poised as a halo around her, a scent message of total abandon of control. Where's the temptation of the knowledgeable apple, I question.

Calyx doesn't smell of apple either. It smells of a neon cascade of grapefruit (though like with Un Jardin sur le Nil with its illusion of green mango there is no essence of the illusory fruit in question in the formula), boosted by guava and papaya (which give an almost overripe scent bordering on garbage if you really notice it) and a cluster of more traditional, zestful fruit notes (namely the citrusy mandarin and bergamot for uplifting elegance and the lactonic peach and apricot for comfort & skin compatibility). The weird thing with Calyx is that the standard cool-steam-room of lily of the valley heart with its transparent florals from a distance is flanked by a little berry underpinning on the bottom and transparent woody notes that rely on bombastic synthetics. The feeling earned nevertheless is one of celestial, mental awareness rather than one of tropical languor on Bora Bora sand dunes all smeared in Coppertone lotion and for that unique reason it deserves a place in the lesser pantheon of perfumes worth giving a second chance to, feminism aside.

The full list of Notes for Prescriptives Calyx includes:
Top: mandarin, passionfruit, peach, mango, bergamot, grapefruit, papaya, guava, mint, cassia.
Heart: cyclamen, lily of the valley, jasmine, rose, neroli, marigold, melon.
Base: vetiver, oakmoss, sandalwood, musk, raspberry.

The winner of the draw…

…for the Tijon consultation is Moonlocks. Congratulations and please email me, using Contact, so I can get you in touch with the owner.

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