Twin Peaks: Ormonde Jayne Champaca & Calvin Klein Truth

Usually the purpose of a Twin Peaks smell-alikes article is to highlight affinities between a higher end fragrance and one which is offered at a comparative price. However it's not solely that. A discontinued or catastrophically reformulated perfume that could be "relived" through experiencing a decent substitute, no matter its provenience, is also worth mentioning. To the latter case I present a comparison between Champaca by British niche brand Ormonde Jayne, which is currently in production, and Truth by Calvin Klein, which has been discontinued a few years already.

via lucacambiaso.deviantart.com

The reason CK Truth for women was discontinued is lost on me. It had everything going for it when it launched back in 2000; from the subtle yet lingering aroma of green bamboo shoots and comforting woody-musky notes to the sensuous advertising and the aesthetically pleasing contours of the packaging, it looked like a much better bet for the Calvin Klein brand than many others in the overpopulated line. The evocation of a woman's skin was sensuous and done with an interesting twist to eschew too obvious a musk note by Alberto Morillas, Jacques Cavallier and Thierry Wasser. It even had its own "blending kit" of 6 key essences (one of which I distinctly recall was a lilac "accord", to my confirmation of the intimacy of this innocent looking flower) to custom mix so as to produce your individual scent combination, a Truth Lush flanker in 2002 and a "sensual bedtime fragrance" flanker -smelling exactly as it name suggests- launched in 2003.

With that in mind it's safe to say CK Truth could be classified under "undeserved commercial flops" as a marketing case study that includes other honorary mentions such as Feu d'Issey and Kenzo L'Elephant. Perhaps the fault was one of timing: By 2003 the advent of "gourmands", i.e. a subcategory of oriental fragrances heavy on the vanilla which mimicked popular desserts smells, was inescapable and the clean, serene, aromatic woody bouquet of Truth was hors categorie.

Champaca by Ormonde Jayne on the other hand, coming from a niche firm, had a clear advantage. It is also "foody", but in the most unusual sense. In fact coming out in 2002 places it at that crossroads mentioned above. And yet, being "savory" rather than "sweet" (in the vanillic or ripe fruity sense), Champaca also pre-empts a trend that took wings by the end of the 2000s; the slightly salty, savory scents which do recall some dish or other, but less overtly than "cupcake" and "cake batter". The cult success of the perfume within the de iuoro limited perimeter of the niche fragrance market was due to its super comforting odor profile. The sweetly creamy, floral note of champaca, a yellow magnolia common in India, was married to the note of steamed basmati rice, itself a nurturing image, Earth Goddess and all.

The inspiration came from a couple who were neighbours to Linda Pilkington when at her first London appartment; whenever they steamed rice, the building smelled cozy and like home. I only found that info later, from Linda herself, but it justified my own impression that Champaca would work great as a room fragrance, one for a cozy restaurant in off-white colors with big sofas around to immerse oneself in like giant cocoons. As the scent progresses the floral element of Champaca is diminished and it turns somewhat "greener" and a tiny bit sour, while still very very soft and non-obtrusive with the low hum that perfumer Geza Schoen is known for.

The Ormonde Jayne seems less "skin scent" than the Klein one overall, the latter being a little tarter and with less of a foody element, but they're remarkably close. Some people notice a third simile with Fraicheur Vegetale Bamboo by Yves Rocher, but I haven't tried that one. If you have please discuss.

Notes for Calvin Klein Truth:
bamboo, wet woods, white peony, vanilla, white amber and sandalwood
Notes for Ormone Jayne Champaca:
Neroli, pink pepper, bamboo, Champaca, Basmati rice, green tea, myrrh, musk.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: More smell-alikes fragrances on this link.

Perfumery Material: Elemi

Patricia Davis in her Aromatherapy A-Z [1] claims that the source of the name "elemi" is an Arabic phrase meaning "above and below" (in itself an abbreviation of "as above, so below") which hints at the spiritual connotations of this sacred ingredient. Similar to frankincense and muhuhu, both in botanical terms and in terms of smell, elemi is not thick and deep like familiar amber mixes. The overall scent of elemi can best be typified in perfume lingo as "terpenic", an aroma typified by fresh pine needles, clean, green with citrusy and coriander undertones. It's therefore not unusual to see it featured in the context of "pine" compositions or in masculine fragrances, as well as in incense blends.

Canarium Luzonicum

The clear yellow liquid has a thin rather than thick consistency and it surprises with its lemony "clean" aspects which are exotic, yet fresh. This is accountable to limonene (a prime lemon molecule) that comprises more than half of the fragrant constituents of the material make-up. The odor profile of elemi is akin to a dill pickle, with a peppery and fennel facet, discernible citrus piquancy, but less tart than expected from that reference. For those reasons elemi oil blends perfectly with notes that share this uplifting fresh quality within their bouquet, be it materials classified as "aromatic" (such as lavender, clary sage and rosemary) or those in the "resinous fresh" category (such as frankincense—which also shares a lemony top-note—and myrrh). It has long being used to extend citrus products thanks to its higher resistance to heat.

The elemi resinoid on the other hand has the spicy peppery and woody-grassy facets more pronounced making it pair perfectly with pepper, woods (patchouli and vetiver especially), and sweet grass, while its constituent elemicin is shared with nutmeg. Elemol is the molecule that gives it its characteristic "flavor."

 Elemi's use in embalming, found in sarcophagi buried in ancient tombs has been celebrated through the ages. The ancient Egyptians championed elemi in the intricate embalming process (alongside styrax, turpentine, benzoin, and other materials) to help the bodies retain their dryness and freshness throughout the centuries. Is the tale that the name derives from an ancient African tribal god whose name translates as "keeper of the spirit" relevant? It's a story steeped in mystery.

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica it was Pliny the Elder who first referenced a styptic medicine with the name "enhaemon," which contained "tears" of a gum substance from the olive tree of Arabia. After the Middle Ages the resin from the Boswellia frereana tree, a Somalian variant (Maydi) of the genus that gives as frankincense, was referred to as "elemi". Its inclusion in Coptic incense (i.e. the incense used by the Coptic Christian church of Egypt), helped the confusion, as elemi is frequently a participant in incense blends. Later, in the 18th century, when the exploration of new lands in the Americas was still going on, the resin derived from the genus Icica from Brazil was -again- called "elemi." 

Amyris elemifera

Today however when we refer to elemi it stands for the resinoid and the essential oil, a gum harvested from the tree Canarium Commune, Linn (N.O. Burseraceae). or Canarium Luzonicum which grows in the Philippines, both wild and cultivated. The Manila Canarium ovatum variety (the "pili" nut) is grown also for its skin-beneficial properties which European brands, Chanel among them, use in their skincare lines. Manila elemi is actually a trade name for the soft, fragrant exudates obtained from the trunk of the Canarium tree species which includes "pili." The gum is obtained by exudation of the trees: when the trunks of the trees get an incision resin flows from there, forming "tears," as the liquid solidifies when coming into contact with the air. The collected tears are then steam-distilled to get the essential oil or they are treated with volatile solvents to produce an elemi resinoid.

It is important not to confuse elemi from the Canarium Luzonicum tree from the oleoresin from the Amyris elemifera tree (also known as "torchwood"), the trunks of which exude a type of balsam (oleoresin) that contains elemic acids, liquid sesquiterpenes, and triterpenes such as α- and β-amyrin among other components. To differentiate we can briefly say that Amyris elemifera produces "Mexican elemi", whereas the Canarium Commune variety produces the "Manila elemi". The Amyris derived elemi essence has a sandalwood scent profile, woody balsamic, similar to other balsams, without the complexity of natural sandalwood, rather than citrusy terpenic. Essential oils containing caryophyllene, cadinene, and cadinol are extracted from Amyris balsamifera and Amyris elemifera. These are used in varnishes, perfumes, medicines, cosmetics, soaps, and incense.

Fragrances rich in elemi notes:

Biehl Parfumkinstwerke MB03
Byredo Chembur
Cerruti 1881 pour Homme
CB I Hate Perfume Violet Empire
Chanel Allure Homme Sport
Comme des Garcons Avignon
Davidoff Cool Water Deep
Dior Homme Sport
Diptyque Eau Duelle
Gucci by Gucci pour Homme
Guerlain L'instant pour Homme
Hermes Eau de Merveilles
Histoire des Parfums 1740 Marquis de Sade
Ineke Gilded Lily
Kenzo L'Eau par Kenzo Indigo Pour Homme
Lagerfeld Femme
Lalique White
Lorenzo Villoresi Incensi
Marc Jacobs Bang
Miller Harris La Fumee
Neela Vermeire Mohur
Neela Vermeire Trayee
Olfactive Studio Autoportrait
Olfactive studio Still Life
Roberto Cavalli Her
Victor & Rolf Spicebomb

[1] Cambridge. The C.W. Daniel Company Limited. 1998

Cool, Silken Fragrances: Like Snowcapped Trees in the Ringing Winter Air

In my mind there is a two-pronged approach to choosing personal fragrances for winter wearing: One is to go for traditional oriental elements, warm resins and balsams, rich florals and amber fragrance blends; creating contrast and invoking via perfume-magic warmer lands where the night is always warm and bodies radiate the heat of blood rushing to the skin's surface. Another, more unusual but perhaps more cherished because of it, is akin to homeopathy: inject a bit of cool silkiness to the routine, letting the outside cold enhance the silvery, metallic qualities of the perfume. Therefore throw in a mix of irises, artemisia, angelica and gentian essences, cool celebral notes, sour frankincense smoke that trails behind like the ashes off an extinguished censer...

photo by Johan Klovsjö

This is a capsule fragrance wardrobe for when the cooling touch of silk, with its shiny reflections reminiscent of drop of water on the icy pond, seems more sophisticated to you than the coziness of snuggly cashmere and wools.

GUERLAIN Aqua Allegoria Gentiana: The cool snowscapes of the Alps hide this plant, le gentiane. Its fresh and bracing properties are displayed in a simple composition that feels like icicles hanging from a thatched roof.

EDITIONS DE PARFUMS F.MALLE Angéliques sous la Pluie: Rained upon angelicas, a celestial gin and tonic on the rocks, refreshingly bitter with a cool edge of seeing snowcapped stone fences just across the road. 

RAMON MONEGAL Impossible Iris: Impossible Iris is like those beautiful raven-haired girls with big, sincere eyes that seem to engulf you and creamy, gorgeous skin that shines with the sheen of mother-of-pearl. Delicate, shy beginning with a cool touch, then comes wooly mimosa with its hint of warmth to smile into the proceedings, while the quiet, bookish woody tonality of the aftermath has a pencil shavings nuance.

TAUER Pentachord White: silvery, expansive imagescape. A fragrance of either the crack of dawn or the crepuscular drawing of a prolonged cool afternoon, the contrast between light and shadow. Orris, violet, vanilla, ambergris notes...

DIOR Homme: A fruity iris for men, a pretty boy with eyelashes a mile long to inflict "butterfly kisses" with. Supremely beautiful and sophisticated with a suprising note of....lipstick!

YSL Rive Gauche: Mysteriously "blue" floral, yet non- romantic English bone-china-pattern-style—it’s flinty! Absolutely classy, sparkling with aldehydes, like the spy who came in from the cold. 

ARMANI Bois d'Encens: A smoky incense that wafts from the forests on the cool wintery air, gloomy cedars silently silhouetted in the distance. The howl of wolves is heard from across the mountains.

GUERLAIN Après l'ondée: What is it that makes this so nostalgic, trembling with delight after the shower, which its name hints at? Is it its heliotrope soft powderiness married to melancholic iris and violet, like a smooth-faced Ophelia contemplating the joys of the river? No, it's probably what is more earthy: anise (and other herbs) give a glimpse of the sun forming a rainbow over still dewy petals. A 1906 classic.

Do you wear cool fragrances in wintertime? I'd love to hear your favorites. 

Fragrant Combinations to Lift the Winter Blues

It was a while ago I mentioned some fragrant combinations for autumn using Diptyque candles and room scents, promising to come back with more. Diptyque offers a small guide of scent combinations of its famous candles for scenting your space -a sort of olfactory landscaping- to create your own atmosphere, evoking a different mood than the one currently roaring and howling outside. Actually Diptyque have championed the art of scent layering since their very beginning. These below are of a different ilk than previously, less rust & gold and more a breath of fresh awakenings, like grains sprouting under the snow. But even if you're bent on the holiday spirit and enjoy the warming effluvium of the classic scents of the season, the new limited edition 2012 collection in its chic containers (below) brings on a smile to the lips.

via mercinewyork.com

Oliban and Sapin Dore are the very spirit of the holidays: the cool frankincense reminds us that there is a liturgical background to the festivities, while the warm and clean pine scent is complementing all the natural, outdoorsy smells of the season.

Gardenia and Santal are classic Diptyque candles and by combining the lush scent of the waxy-petaled white flower and the soft milky note of sandalwood you get a bridge from winter to spring, an optimistic reminder that good things lie awaiting.

 Verveine and Menthe Vert (i.e. lemon verbena and green mint) is a classic office and work desk combination that is mind-clearing. It helps me get my thoughts off the loom and gloom outside and into focusing to the projects I have to accomplish before dusk sets.

 Roses and Lierre when burnt together are delightfully reminiscent of an English garden by the river; the pink roses are dewy and trembling under the coolness of the approaching evening, the ivy leaves are reinforcing the vegetal, cool aspect.

 Maquis and Figuier is probably the combination I'm feeling most nostalgic about, reminiscent as it is of the scent of the Mediterranean countryside, filled with the burnished copper of immortelle, the sapling of the fig tree and its bittersweet smelling leaves. Summer will come, in the end.

Hug Me, Cashmere Wrap Fragrances for Wintertime

When the wind is howling outside, shaking the trees into a sweeping sound, and the logs in the fire crackle with gusto, perfume can play both a prophylactic role (reminiscent of its original purpose) and one of mental escapism. Winter-time brings on its own special slot for playing with fragrance, simply because we spend so much more time in close quarters noticing smells of the indoors (and on each other) and because the outdoors feels so quiet and silvery under the caps of snow reflecting the rays of a tentative sun.

Below is a capsule selection of tried and true warm, snuggly and devastatingly sexy fragrances to carry you into wintertime to make you feel like you're wrapped into your own portable hug.

punmiris.com

GUERLAIN Tonka Impériale: Wearing it on winter sweaters and scarfs (where it clings for days radiating seductively) is akin to getting caressed by a honey mink étole while smelling fine cigars in a salon de thé serving the most delicious almond pralines on panacotta.

CHANEL Bois des Iles: The most caressing sandalwood-rich floral feels like a cashmere wrap woven by angels. Beautifully supple, rich but restrained, it's a fragrance whose every drop denotes indoors entertaining in elegant interiors.

BOTTEGA VENETA Eau de Parfum: Subtly leathery goodness with warmth and coziness, underneath a fruity chypre mantle with a beating jasmine heart. What's not to like?

CARON Poivre: As warm as a fur coat, as arresting as pepper spray, a pas de deux on clove and carnation blossoms; or the scent of Cruella de Vil.

SERGE LUTENS Douce Amère: A bittersweet harmony of anise etched in opaline, singing in a warm contralto, melancholic and vanillic, borrowing something of the introspective mood of winter.

HERMES 24 Faubourg: A rich floriental resembling a Hollywood heroine dressed in a light beige trenchcoat, impecably coiffed hair under a heavy silk scarf of prestigious sign aure, wrapped on her precious little head, lipstick in deep coral, complexion in peaches and cream, driving a sports car on the dangerous slopes of Monaco under a heavy steel sky.

Which are your own "cashmere sweater" fragrances? I'd love to hear suggestions. 

Lady Gaga Fame: fragrance review

With the Fame fragrance we witness a grossly missed chance and a Shannon entropy in one: whereas we could have had a Maleficent or at the very least a Pippi Longstocking, we get Cinderella ("please make the good prince notice me"), all bets off in a mathematical variability into the consumer's collective unconscious. Fame by Lady Gaga operates on a false signal, emitting something else than expected, breaking the communication circuit in half (visual cues, olfactory profile) and redirecting half of the message into the void. No wonder the Gaga perfume is the no.1 best-seller at the local Sephora as of this moment; perfume briefs these days are directed with a slew of semiotics experts and communication analysts behind them.

Lady Gaga Lady gaga FAME

via fanpop.com

The official blurb mentions the structure being built on three main accords, instead of the classic fragrance pyramid: dark accord, sensual accord and light accord. The fragrance, though not at all unpleasant (I bet if it was issued by another less "controversial" celebrity, we wouldn't expect so much to begin with and might be pleasantly surprised), ultimately runs the gamut of predictability: Fame by Gaga begins fresh grape-berry-apricot with more sweetness than anticipated from such a menacing presentation (the bottle looks like it is caught in fangs or in the pliers of a lifting machine at some enchanted factory making human replicas, someplace, an idea reinforced by the commercial), segueing into a "clean" layer of "white flowers" we've smelled in our fabric softener and plug-in home fragrance.

There's even the parting hint of smokiness for the allusion to mystery, as if something pretty needs an injection of something else too to register as coming from the meat-dress wearing celebrity or it wouldn't fit at all.

The nifty detail of the black juice inside which doesn't stain clothes or skin, as it instantly vaporizes transparent, isn't totally new either: Boudicca Wode (and not Boedicea the Victorious as I had erroneously mentioned before!) had explored the path first with her blue-tinged eau de parfum.

On the whole: Color me unimpressed.

Cool artwork though by Steven Klein. Can't knock that.