A perfume for Sirens

It is perhaps in tune with upcoming Valentine's day and therefore despite the fact that Perfume Shrine doesn't usually go the fluff celebrity way, we couldn't disregard this opportunity to discuss someone who has been in the public eye lately and has a taste for perfume as well.
Yes, Carla Bruni has married French president Nicolas Sarkozy; and who would have thought it too probable?
But love or infatuation has its ways and one cannot argue with the heart. In the case of Bruni, it is not the first time and one might argue it won't be the last. But let's not be a Cassandra like The Independent posed to be for the happy couple and wish them the best of luck and that they have fun; people in love or lust deserve as much.

I admit that Carla's musical odyssey had never entered my consiousness and she had remained the quintessential supermodel-breaker-of-famous-hearts in my mind. An Elizabeth Taylor of serial tabloid romances. Where to begin? Eric Clapton, Mick Jagger, Kevin Costner, Donald Trump, Vincent Perez, Laurent Fabius, the Enthoven father and son... But who can blame her? She has made it clear and brava for her candour:

"I'm monogamous from time to time, but I prefer polygamy and polyandry."

Who can blame her? Her choice, her right, her decision.

When I read in the above article that

"Even when I was having my hair and make-up done backstage at a fashion show, I would sneak in a copy of Dostoevsky and read it inside a copy of Elle or Vogue"

I had to pause though.:Why reveal this now, when such a practice necessitated covering it up when posing for the designers' clothes and fragrances? Are politicos over her to sound a certain way?

Heir to one of the wealthiest families of northern Italy, thanks to their tyres business, the Bruni Tedeschis ~by the way, the second surname could denote a German streak in the family~ and with a sister, Valeria,who is an acclaimed actress, Carla Bruni has been implicated in perfume both in her role of ambassador of image for designers' fare and through her personal choices.

Famously she has been the public face of Ysatis, the soaring chyprish floriental by Givenchy, a fragrance that sings a beautiful motet in unison like a small choir. I recall it being advertised with a memorable rhyming line in its Greek campaign which unfortunately cannot be translated to comparable effect; suffice to say that it invoced that once you smelled the woman wearing it you would seek her out...

Her own perfume choices range from the sophisticated, divine Vol de Nuit extrait de parfum by Guerlain as her signature to the more prosaic Versus by Versace.
One would think that her quote below is reflecting the feeling that Vol de Nuit in particular evokes in the psyche of its wearer:

"Desire is not very precise in my case, so I never choose. The one thing all the men I've loved have in common is a strong feminine side. I find feminine men very virile and macho men very fragile. Machismo is a defence mechanism."

The mysterious Guerlain could therefore be an eminent choice for the siren who seduces men possessing a feminine side, as she herself revels in the androgynous facets under the more traditionally femme guiles of this amazing, dual-faced fragrance.

Could that be her femme fatale secret and not the great bum to accompany the Terminator smile and the Dostoevsky intellect? One would love to suppose so...

Pic of Bruni from sportaction.gr, Ysatis and Vol de Nuit ads from parfumdepub.

Leather Series 9: leather scents of the 50s

After the ravages of WWII, which brought real emancipation to women through their en masse contribution to the workforce and the uniformity of vote throughout the western world, people were now free to revert to more conservative models of life. In that regard, fashion and its cultural sensibilities that pertain to fragrances followed suit. Women craved glamour and style after the privasions of the war and the boosting economy tended to their needs with swathes of fabric and gilded bottles of precious, fragrant liquid.

In this economically optimistic atmosphere which was olfactorily inaugurated with the stunning verdancy of Vent Vert by Balmain (1947) and the playfully leathery animalic chypré Miss Dior by Christian Dior (1947), women reverted to more traditional roles in which the bitter green dyke-y typhoon of Bandit (1944) had no place. Family values gained newfound popularity as the world was ready to be repopulated with young people, to substitute the ones who had perished in the fields of warfare. Thus, being a good wife and mother was seen as the height of success for a woman of that era and in that regard fashion and perfumes complimented that ideal: constrictive lingerie that created smooth but immovable lines beneath the new secretary-chic clothing of twin sets and pencil skirts; bows and polka dots fighting for a decorative boost, capri pants and Vichy plaid, pearls adorning swan and less swan-like necks alike; the introduction of the stiletto heel ramaging parquet floors and the concept of shoes matching the outfit in its colouring and detail.



The formality and solid glamour of the 1940s relaxed into clothing that was more conservative overall, taking cue from the “I Love Lucy” series and “The Honeymooners”. The rock n’roll craze injected its own special touch to the youth culture with voluminous circle skirts, short ankle socks and ballet flats. Dior and Balenciaga were the couturiers to revolutionize fashions and while to wear the former you needed a slim waist, to wear the latter you needed a headstrong caracter: Many of his creations were architectural in nature and striking in their aesthetics.

Perfumes consequently moved into the realm of demure floral, feminine floral chyprés and elegant cool aldehydics. Leather as a material had lost its emancipated allure of the Garconnes of the 20s and the toughness of the Nazi uniform of WWII, relegated into items of luxury denoting prestige: expensive, smooth handbags of stiff shape made from endangered species (ecoconsiousness had not entered people’s vernacular yet), heels in elongated impractical shapes, Chesterfield couches in gentlemen’s clubs. With a rebelious sideline of leather boots worn by Teddy Boys and youths copying Marlon Brando in “The Wild One”.
Leather in fragrances therefore took a new twist to match the sartorial mores of the times: powdery, with floral touches of old-fashioned violets such as in Jolie Madame by Balmain (1953) or starting its own revolution with all the gusto of a "Rebel without a Cause" in Cabochard by madame Grès (1959). The refinement of the original Doblis, issued by the house of Hermès in 1955, is the soft to the touch hand that caresses a crocodile-skin bag; in many ways its logical descendant in fatal smoothness is Paul Vacher's Diorling for Christian Dior in 1963.

Myself I envision the femme leathers of the 50s emulating the style of two different ends of the spectrum: on one hand like the insouciant costumes of “Une Parisienne” (1957) with Brigitte Bardot and on the other like the faded, broken heroine of “The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone” (1961) as played by Vivien Leigh; both elegantly dressed by none other than Pierre Balmain, the couturier who established the jolie madame style of 50s fashion.



(uploaded by stallano)



Reviews on all those scents coming up shortly!

Pic of Suzy Parker for Balenciaga couture from Vogue 1963. Roger Vivier pink embroided shoe for Christian Dior from Victoria & Albert museum exhibition.

Optical Scentsibilities: back to back

A naked feminine back can be more provocative than the most plunging decolleté. It implies a state of deshabillé that is not par for the course the way cleavage usually is with standard clothing and it draws men nearer, almost unconsciously and with a Plavlovian reflex to touch, going from the visual to tactile in an all too brief second.
It is exactly this imagery that has surfaced in perfume advertising as well as art.


From Pierre Cardin's Paradoxe from 1983 with its stylisized lines...



...to the luxurious, curvy decadence of Agent Provocateur with its saffron-rose chypriness.



The beauty of Jules Joseph Lefebvre's Odalisque from 1874 is at the heart of this seductive back nudity.



Modigliani also was inspired by it, using his characteristic style of brushwork in an aquarelle from the beginning of the 20th century.



And all can be traced back to La Grande Odalisque by Jean-Auguste Dominique Ingres (1814). A classic portrait of distorted human proportion (look carefully at the back and limps and you will know) that accounts for true beauty.
Comissioned by Caroline Murat, Queen of Naples and sister of Napoleon Bonaparte, La Grande Odalisque was intended to keep company to another nude by Ingres which she owned: Sleeping Woman, Nude.
Influential even to the point that it inspires photographers to shoot today's actresses, such as this one above with Julianne Moore by Michael Tompson in 2003 (American Photograph magazine). Which one is sexier?

Perfection! It's back.

Pics from imagesdesparfums, parfumdepub, wikipedia and in.gr

How many of you have been wearing less than a dollar worth of fragrance?

As promised, Perfume Shrine is bringing you commentary on some of the juicy parts of the latest book by New York Times perfume critic and journalist Chandler Burr. Whatever one might think about the book (and there are certain points that one could criticize him for, more on which to follow)one cannot deny that on the whole it is revealing about how the perfume industry really works and some of the machinations in place. This sort of thing although suspected and talked about in the circles we frequent, hasn't made headlines in highly visible media and therefore the contribution to the public's education is valueable.

One of the most shocking revelations of the book has been the persistent divulging of the cheapening of the jus occuring throughout fine perfumery. This refers to the price point of ingredients, raw materials going into a formula as requested by the company handing out the brief. The "price per kilo" of perfume compound or concentrée is industry-speak for how much a certain composition should cost and what is the roof over which they are not willing to go beyond.
This compound is the mix of all the raw materials going into the fabrication of scented products which then gets diluted to form the different concentrations that get launched as eau de toilette, eau de parfum, or even extrait de parfum.
We have been commenting upon the lowering of that roof point for some time now, but the following excerpt from Burr is shocking in its revealing glory:

"Everyone in the industry was discussing the collapse in the quality of the materials the houses were willing to use, which was another way of saying the colapse in the price of perfume formulae. It was an open secret. It depended on whom you talked to, but generally the figure one heard was a 50 percent fall. "We really started dropping our prices with Opium", one veteran told me. "The concentree actually wasn't expensive". Opium was 1978."

~Chandler Burr, The Perfect Scent, Holt 2008, p.59-60

This sheds new light and puts things into perspective, doesn't it? Because if Opium is generally regarded as one of the last remaining "classics" (in its way) and it was of course created as far back as 1978, then it goes without saying that much more recent examples have lowered that price per kilo at a staggering pace, resulting in formulae that cost as little as 38euros per kilo, whereas one could afford to reach 230euros per kilo in the past. This is exactly the kind of syllogism that obliterates half the palette from perfumers who cannot therefore use some of the most exquisite essences (many of which are natural floral absolutes, a category hard to replicate in synthesized terms successfully) and as a result leaving them with restricted choice resulting in many of the fragrances smelling comparatively similar.
Even luxury or niche ones! Yes, don't act so surprised.
The following statement corroborates it:

"Sometimes today the mass marketers had prices of kilo de concentree more expensive than those of the luxury brands". [...]"I've been told, one American industry told me, "that the average price per kilo for fine fragrances is now around 85 dollars. I doubt that's true. I'd say in some cases it's 35 dollars. In some it's 15 dollars"

~Chandler Burr, The Perfect Scent, Holt 2008, p.60

Now, do the math: 15 dollars per kilo of compound ~which generally gets a 10% dilution for Eau de toilette. This is 1.5 dollar per 100gr of eau de toilette. Considering that the typical buyer goes for the smaller 50ml/1.7oz bottle purchase (I am approximating volume with weight for our purposes here), at least the first time around, then you're left with many fine fragrances containing less than a dollar worth of ingredients' quality! Even extrait has a 20-40% dilution so we are still talking a very low ratio pricewise to what is asked for in the final product.
Now you realise why companies are set to capitalize on the appeal of newness and sell the first bottle of any new fragrance, not interested in the repeat purchase.
The rest of what you pay is anything but the jus.

I call this repulsive, don't you? Discuss.

Bullion or Bull? 8 88 of them...by Comme des Garcons: fragrance review

Sometimes it's hard to distinguish the bullion from the bull. Gold has a way of masquerading into the most unexpected guises, while the reverse is also true.
Comme des Garcons 8 88 new fragrance was released for only one week (!) in London at the Burlington Arcade guerilla store. It won't be available again until March 2008, but a generous and kind soul was able to get us a sample and Perfume Shrine has the rare privilege to review the elusive scent with the weird and -reputedly lucky?- numerological name.

Comme des Garcons has always gone for the quirky, establishing themselves at the vanguard of art perfumery with a twist. A resolutely modern line of fine fragrances. The brand by Rei Kawakubo who introduced the pauper-chic of the early 80s to jaw-dropping Paris has set a high standard for shock value. Their Guerilla stores were the kind of avant-guard marketing that makes for cleverly calibered word-of-mouth. It even convinced me to go under the shade of an ancient ruin for the sole purpose of shopping for the first time in my life!
The challenge was to see whether they delivered this time around, as they had previously succeeded in doing with their wonderful Incense line (a long-time favourite of mine) or the Red series or indeed the original fragrances that bore their name, aiming at working like Ayuverdic medicine (they don't...).

Antoine Lie, a perfumer from Swiss giant Givaudan, was the nose who created 8 88. It tries to capture the odour of gold, an elusive goal no doubt but in line with the brand's attempt to ride on the Luxe bandwagon: a concept perhaps at odds with their conduct thus far.

Jewels have always mesmerised both the artistic and the mystical in me, with their aura of hidden but powerful energy surrounding them. Most importantly the feel of heirlooms and historical pices, some of which have pride of place in my ever expanding collection, give me a rush of aesthetic and intellectual pleasure in running my fingers over them, contemplating just how they were made, who they belonged to and what feelings they evoked for their owners.
Yellow gold pieces in particular remind me of ancient rituals, the homeric "Mycenae, rich in gold": the loot from ancient Egypt by the Ekwesh (whom recent research tautologises as Achaean Greeks coming from Anatolia).
Alas, much as I lean on my comparatively less important pieces, I cannot bring myself to smell anything more than the faint remains of the fragrance that clung from my skin since the occassion that I wore them. Gold really has no special smell, apart from the metallic coldness or the odour of blood shed in its pursuit...


The task set before Antoine Lie was therefore difficult. According to the creator:

“We started with the concept that we wanted to find if gold has an odour and we looked for an olfactive expression. I looked at a number of different materials and decided very quickly on Safraline because of its very specific character.”

Safraline is an aromachemical, a molecule produced by Givaudan, derivative of saffron/crocus flower: the latter being a very expensive material due to its difficult picking and handling of the fragrant stemens by hand.

Official notes for 8 88 are: safraline, pepperwood, curcuma, coriander, geranium and amber.

As I sprayed the juice of 888 on my skin I perceived an initial fresh, almost orangey aroma from the coriander, a slight wet pottery whiff with tender sweetness to it that later on cedes to dryness. The opening has the cheery gusto of a sparkling finish on a fashion handbag done in metallics with none of the leather smell that would denote its quality materials or the metallic feel of typical aldehydic or iris fragrances reminiscent of the insides.
In that stage there follows the faint plasticky smell of freshly new DVDs out of their box, an odour so weird as to become instantly memorable for anyone who has had the chance to step into a very new, very big videostore. Some vague spiciness pops in and out, but as it dries down it does so with a woody and ambery character that is subdued and rather feminine, remaining close to the body without overstaying its invitation.
Compared with Safran Troublant by L'artisan parfumeur, 8 88 lacks the round feeling that accounts for much of the pleasure derived out of wearing the former, while at the same time it doesn't offer the jarring and jolting effect that one expects from a Comme des Garcons fragrance. It is pleasant, a little bit boring and very inoffensive; which is really tearing it apart with mild praise, I realise.


The bottle is in the traditional shape of the original CDG fragrance and Man2: the smooth tactile peeble, this time done in gold.
The price was 52 British Pounds for 50ml of eau de parfum concentration last time I checked. It is doubtful whether it will remain the same or rise: they shouldn't ask for its weight for gold, that's for sure.

Pic of 18K gold & tourmalines necklace from personal collection.