Perfume Primers: Chypre Fragrances for Newbies

No other fragrance category is so shrouded in confusion and wrapped into such awe as chypres. From the pronunciation (listen to this file) to the ingredients constituting a classic chypre perfume, it all sounds too sophisticated for dummies. Or isn't it so? Chypre fragrances have an irresistible pull, making us appreciate perfumery all the more so, because they expertly hinge on both intellectual and sensual qualities. So let's make chypres easy for everyone!

The History of Chypre Perfumes in Simple Terms

Chypre means Cyprus in French, the island in the Eastern Mediterranean where the oldest perfume factory of the world was discovered in Pyrgos Mavrorachi (the name means "fortress on the black slope"  in Greek) dating to 2000BC, well before the Egyptian analogues. Cyprus has been instrumental in European history too: It has been a stronghold of Greek civilization since antiquity (the continuity of art styles and language suggests so) with a flourishing trade exchange with Egypt and later with the Roman conquerors; plus it has been the prime port of call of Eastern merchant routes between Europe and the Middle East, thanks to its strategic geopolitical position, and therefore supremely prized (and seized) by many foreign powers in the course of its millenia-long turmoiled history, starting with the Crusades and going...
But the name "chypre" (chypvra etc), apart from any geographical connotations, had travelled in aromatic stanzas throughout the Middle Ages, Renaissance and the Age of Enlightenment thanks to the vigorous commerce of the enterprising Cypriots who dabbled in a feminine product with an added scent: their famous "Cipria" powder, a cosmetic face powder -presented by various different local "houses"- which was further aromatized with the cypriot aromatic blends they had excelled at for centuries (And which, by all accounts, judging by the later specimens circulating into the 20th century, smelled not far off what we consider a chypre fragrance today!)

Source: flickr.com via June on Pinterest

The vogue for powdered wigs in western Europe in the 17th century made Cipria one of the most widely used cosmetic products and the name is still referenced in Italian to this day for cosmetic powder. Let's not forget Cyprus is the mythological birthplace of Aphrodite/Venus, so the connection with beauty & grooming rituals was there all along. What better place then to sprout forth a product appealing to women (and the men who smell them) everywhere?

Therefore Cyprus and its "Cipria" had created a solid scent tradition. It was that tradition that the legendary François Coty-a Mediterranean merchant himself, hailing from Corsica- decided to put to good use. It is neverthless a myth that the first modern "chypre" was Coty's Chypre in 1917. Contrary to popular perception, François Coty was not the first to associate the name Chypre with a particular perfume. Guerlain's Chypre de Paris preceded him by 8 years, issued in as early as 1909. Chypre d'Orsay was the next one to be introduced in 1912. We can only attribute these names to the tradition of the "Cipria" echoed in these fragrances.

However it was Coty indeed (also dabbling in cosmetics) who first realized the familiarity of the chypre aroma of the Cipria would help make a fragrance drawing inspiration from it a commercial success. Even Chypre's packaging utilized motifs of cosmetics. His Chypre really took off and became an instant hit that created traction and a vogue for such "heavy" "green" perfumes. The rest, as they say, is history.



What makes a chypre "chypre", though? 

In modern perfumery as established by Coty (and all subsequent chypres followed the scaffold he laid out) the basic structure of the chypre perfume is an harmony, an "accord", between 3 key ingredients: bergamot (a citrus fruit that grows all around the Mediterranean) - oakmoss (a tree lichen that grows on oaks mainly in the Balkans) - labdanum (a resinoid from cistus ladaniferus, or rockrose, a plant which grows in the Mediterranean basin, especially in Crete and Cyprus which was traditionally amassed off the hair of the goats that grazed on the bush). Three basic, common Mediterranean products, three Cypriot references for Chypre! Whatever other notes the sites/guides mention, those three must be in there for the fragrance at hand to qualify as a "classic chypre", a true descendant of Coty's Chypre from 1917. These "true/pure chypres" include such later perfumes as Carven Ma Griffe (1946) or E.Lauder's Knowing (1988)!

The tension between the fresh citrusy note and the pungent, earthy odor of oakmoss and of labdanum creates an aesthetic effect that is decidedly inedible (much like the masculine equivalent of fougère fragrances), denoting perfect grooming, always smelling "perfumey", polished, and often powdery. Which makes total sense given the background of the face powder it originated from! It also explains why chypres are extremely popular regardless of fashions in southern Europe as opposed to other countries.

Exactly because they smell like perfume, i.e. an add-on in no uncertain terms, they project an image of luxury, sophistication, status. They can be cerebral, cool and aloof, a The Times reader rather than chic lit browser, or they can be womanly and intimate like effluvium wafting off the boudoir, but whatever the case chypres always remain steeped in their Aphrodite-originating beauty.

[pic source: hprints.com via Sue on Pinterest]

Chypre fragrances often include patchouli and other woody notes, or animalic essences, for added intensity and mystery, while the heart of the perfume is always more or less floral. Although patchouli is ubiquitously included in chypres, it is a very common raw material for other families as well (such as the Orientals and many florals) and is therefore non conclusive as to the classification of any given fragrance ~barring very recent ones, more on which in a moment).

Because chypres are the sophisticated fragrance family par excellence it's very tempting to overreach and classify just any elegant and perfume-y fragrance in the genre!

It is especially common to confuse them with heavily woody Orientals (parfums Babani was on to something mixing the exoticism of Egypt with the chypre coolness in Chypre Egyptien back in 1923!) or with green woody florals such as Chanel No.19 (which is really a separate case, to which I will come back with a detailed breakdown.) or Silences (Jacomo), its logical godchild.


Sub-categories of Chypres

The beauty of the chypre is that it's a strict fragrance structure, but on this basic scaffolding the perfumer can add accent pieces that make the perfume lean into this or that direction. Like a basic "little black dress", you can accessorize with heels or with boots, with pearls or with chunky gold chains, with a fur stole or a colorful velvet shawl and create dazzlingly different looks.

Add green notes of grasses, herbs and green-smelling florals (such as hyacinth) and you have "green chypres" (Diorella, Givenchy III, Chanel Cristalle Eau de parfum, Shiseido Koto, E.Lauder Aliage, Jean Couturier Coriandre, Balenciaga Cialenga, Ayalitta by Ayala Moriel, the Deneuve perfume for Avon). Emphasize the woodier notes of patchouli, vetiver, pine needles and you have "woody chypres (Niki de Saint Phalle, the classic Halston by Halston, La Perla, Aromatics Elixir). Wrap everything in the succulence of ripe fruits -such as plum or peach- and you get the historically important "fruity chypres" league (Guerlain Mitsouko, Rochas Femme, the vintage Dior Diorama, Nina Ricci Deci Dela, Yves Saint Laurent Champagne/Yvresse, Amouage Jubilation 25, Ayala Moriel Autumn, Balenciaga Quadrille, Lutens Chypre Rouge).* Smother lots of discernible flowers and you get "floral chypres"(Ungaro Diva, Zibeline by Weil, Antilope by Weil, Charlie by Revlon, L'Arte de Gucci, E.Lauder Private Collection, Guerlain Parure, Tauer Une Rose Chypree, Agent Provocateur eau de parfum, DSH Parfum de Grasse, K de Krizia, Germaine Monteil Royal Secret, Armani Pour Femme "classic" by Armani, Esteban Classic Chypre). Sparkling aldehydes on top can further the claim that Caleche by Hermes is an "aldehydic chypre" (it's really poised between two categories that one, aldehydic floral and aldehydic chypre). Put the growl of a cat-in-heat via copious animal ingredients and "animalic chypres" appear (Miss Dior by Dior, Montana Parfum de Peau, Balmain Jolie Madame, Paloma Picasso).
Finally, although technically a separate family according to La Société Française des Parfumeurs (whose sub-classification I follow above as well) called "cuir"/"leather fragrances", there are a few perfumes that mingle notes reminiscent of leather goods with the general elements of a chypre, such as Chanel Cuir de Russie, Cabochard by Gres, Piguet Bandit, Caron Tabac Blond, vintage Dior Diorling.

*Although Le Parfum de Therese by Edmond Roudnitska (circulating in the F.Malle line) has fruity elements on the basic skeleton of a chypre, it has been argued that it is in fact a proto-aquatic, therefore I do not include it in this category on purpose. 

In the Michael Edwards classification system (inspired by Firmenich charts and his own consultant job in the industry), chypres fall mostly into the "mossy woods" category, as Edwards doesn't include a "chypre" family per se as per tradition dictates, but rather intersperses them between woods and orientals (and moving leather fragrances into the "dry woods" category in his 2010 edition following new studies in odor perception). It's one way of viewing things that is more accessible to the consumer.

If orientals have traditionally built on a rose floral nucleus to further create smoothness, chypres have been traditionally constructed around a white flowers core (jasmine, tuberose etc), with the all important lily of the valley "opening" the bouquet, just like uncorking a bottle of wine a few minutes prior to drinking lets the aroma develop better. Specifically the more traditional floral "core" was constructed around an impression of gardenia (Another Cypriot reference as the ripe, narcotic blossom grows well on the warm shores of the island). The classic reference for that is the original Miss Dior (from 1947), now circulating as Miss Dior L'Original.

Source: hprints.com via Perfume on Pinterest

'Modern chypres' that "don't smell like chypres"

Even though years have passed and chypres fell out of vogue in the 1990s and early 2000s, there was a renewed interest in them after Narciso for Her eau de toilette was introduced into the market in 2004 (launched as a youthful chypre) and became a modern classic that influenced every other house. Basically these fragrances, which I call "nouveau chypres" (read more on them on this article of mine) are NOT technically chypres, but "woody floral musks" fragrances, with a "clean" non hippy-shop patchouli and vetiver base standing in for the reduced ratio of oakmoss allowed by modern industry regulations in regard to allergens (oakmoss is considered a skin sensitizer and therefore greatly reduced, which accounts for the reformulation -and thus unrecognizable state- of many classics). These include Gucci de Gucci, Lovely by SJP, Guerlain Idylle and Chypre Fatal, L'Eau de Chloe, Miss Dior Chérie, Chance by Chanel and countless others. A few however do manage to smell credible such as the underrated Private Collection Jasmine White Moss by E.Lauder; although totally modern, it doesn't betray the genre and smells like true progeny. Issey Miyake A Scent is taking the greener, airier stance of green chypres.

Although the term "chypre" nowadays means little to nothing to the modern consumer, as attested by the countless questions I receive when consulting, the industry insists on keeping it. The soft pink shade of these modern juices does make us think of the soft powdery color referenced as "cipria". Femininity, softness, cosmetics and Aphrodite rolled into a modern packaging. Or perhaps it's because chypre has at least 4000 years of history behind it...

If your interest has peaked and you want to find out more about chypre fragrances, please refer to Perfume Shrine's extensive series on Chypres:
Part 1: The origins of Chypre
Part 2: Chypre fragrance ingredients & formulae
Part 3: "Nouveau chypres" or "pink chypres" (modern chypre fragrances)
Part 4: Chypre perfume aesthetics
Part 5: Chypre perfume chronology and the zeitgeist
Part 6: Masculine Chypres: Does such a thing exist?
Part 7: The Chypres time forgot

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfume Primers for Beginners & Beyond

For those who read French, a wonderful essay on the origins of the Cypriot strain of Cipria and chypre on this and that link.  Also refer to "Aromata Cipria - Cyprus Perfumes" by. P.Flourentzos, M.R.Belgiorno, A.Lentini (dbas.sciant.unifi.it)

painting: Herbert James Draper "Pearls of Aphrodite"

Chanel Les Exclusifs 1932: new fragrance

This is a tah da da ta da post, of the "I told you so" variety. Eons ago (actually a year ago, but it feels that way in perfume land) I had posted how "1932" was going to be the next Chanel Les Exclusifs fragrance. The perfume news are confirmed. Rejoice!

The new Les Exclusifs de Chanel 1932 fragrance is arriving at selected boutiques on March 1st 2013.
The scent is touted to be a powdery floral focused on jasmine. The new fragrance is reportedly made available for the first time to the general public as part of Les Exclusifs whereas the perfume was originally offered for purchase only to the customers of Chanel’s haute joiallerie line, specifically named to echo the new "Chanel 1932 collection". The perfume is named after the year in which Chanel launched its jewelry collection and bears NO relation with the vintage Ivoire fragrance by Chanel issued in the year 1932. It is a NEW creation developed by the Chanel house perfumers.

Edit to update: Fragrance Notes for "Chanel Les Exclusifs 1932":
Top notes: aldehydes, bergamot, neroli
Heart: jasmine, rose, lilac, carnation, ylang-ylang
Base: vetiver, sandalwood, opoponax, orris root, coumarin, ambrette, musk, incense, vanilla, iralia*
*Iralia is a base with a pronounced iris and violet character patented by Firmenich

Perfume Classics & Future Classics (By Pierre Aulas)

I was reading some material by Pierre Aulas (the artistic director at Parfums Mugler) and came across a reference that I deemed interesting. In it he presents his views on classics and in what he predicts will go down as "modern classics" in the near future. Let's hear the man out:

by artist Michelle Bennett via decorpad.com

"In truth, very few products manage to become classics in both Europe and America. That said, on my list of the greatest perfumes for women are Angel, (not a surprise), Aromatics Elixir, Obsession, Opium, Hypnotic Poison, Féminité du Bois and L’Heure Bleue, while, for men, my votes go to Farenheit, CK One, Kenzo pour Homme, L'Eau d’Issey pour Homme, Aqua di Gio, Le Mâle and Dolce & Gabbana pour Homme.

Pierre Aulas via Elisa de Feydeau  

 Future classics? Coco Mademoiselle, J’adore, Chloé and, more specifically in Europe, Alien and Narcisco Rodriguez . For men, I think Terre d’Hermes, especially in Europe. "

Which do you think of the current fragrances on shelves will go down as "modern classics"?

The Diary of a Nose by Jean Claude Ellena: Perfume Book Review

Mηδέν ἄγαν (i.e. nothing in excess)
  ~oracular statement inscripted on the wall of the Delphi oracle in Greece, 440 BC

"We have exiled beauty; the Greeks took up arms for her." 
  ~Albert Camus 

'I was born in Grasse, and yet I do not feel Grassois by nature, nor Provençal, for that matter. [...] My attachment to the place is due to my paternal grandparents, who were of Italian descent and who set up home there. [...] I love the sea and its horizon, where my gaze gets lost as the blue of the sky and that of the sea merge. I appreciate the beautiful bodies, the drape of light clothing, the discreet elegance and restraint. I have never been able to truss myself up in suits; their restrictiveness denotes a rigidness of mind and disenchantment with life. I believe in happiness, in man, in a lay spirituality; I do not trust religions. I would rather have eye contact for a long time than chatter for a long time. And, although I like to seduce, I have a sense of propriety with words. As I write this, I am reminded in particular of Camus, who wrote in L'exil d'Hélène:

"Greek thought always took refuge in the idea of limits. It pushed nothing to its full extent, not the sacred, nor reason, because it denied nothing, not the sacred, nor reason. It took everything into account, balancing shadow and light".

I have never sought to impose anything. My research is driven by a constrant desire to find a balance between what can be felt with the senses and what is intelligible to the mind. I am Mediterranean. '

  ~Jean Claude Ellena, Cabris 26 August 2010

Santorini house, Greece. Source: moonlightrainbow.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

The thought that Ellena represents the Mediterranean prototype to a T (in itself a Classical prototype of meaningful, deceptive simplicity) has been at the back of my mind since forever. I had even posed the question to the man himself, to which he had smiled. I now see why most clearly.

"The Diary of a Nose" from which the above Ellena quote originates is the USA edition of the original French title "Journal d'un Parfumeur" (Sabine Wespieser Éditeur), printed by Rizzoli ExLibris, with the official launch date for the USA being 22 January 2013. As I was sent an advance copy I was able to gauge the differences with the French original which kept me engaging company for months on end. The main difference is right there on the cover itself: the odd usage of the word "parfumeur", as in "A Year in the Life of a Parfumeur" (as well as "exclusive parfumeur for Hermès" underneath it) in what is otherwise a 100% English-speaking tome threw me off a bit. It sounds tortured and odd. But that is the only flaw.

If you had only read Rachel Cooke's Observer review of the UK-edition of Diary of a Nose last summer, you might want to reconsider your impressions. Not because this new US edition of the Ellena-penned tome (with its fuschia jacket) is any different than the British version (with the beige-peach jacket), but because Cooke missed the point entirely, much as she should have known better, being an awarded journalist with lots of experience. But such are the perils of being a journalist in general rather than a fragrance writer per se. You get all in awe of the perceived authority of Turania (because you don't know any better yourself, I presume? what gives?) and you spend more time discussing them and their views (missing some of the praise they give Ellena too!) instead of focusing on the book and its author at hand! Not to mention that if this were a real life situation it would be exceptionally rude and inappropriate to describe someone only by way of comparing him unfavorably to someone else! How is that OK in a book review?

Lucia van der Post's jacket description of Ellena as the "Mozart of perfumery" in the Financial Times is quite apt, even though those of us who are musically trained might feel the "too many notes" of the ethereal musical garlands of the classical composer are contested by Ellena's adherence to "less is more" and the laconic simplicity the perfumer aims for. But the comparison is totally understood nevertheless: Ellena makes everything seem effortless -the prime constituent of elegance- even though reading the book one realizes that the process is anything BUT effortless! Like a "Cahiers du Cinéma" auteur, he chooses the word "author" to denote that perfume composition more than anything else is an intellectual work that requires thought behind each step and one which is uniquely personal to the creator who oversees everything about it.

Ellena takes the opportunity to show how ordinary situations form his creations: a standard air flight, when he recognizes one of his creations on a passenger whose smoke remnants surface beneath it; observing the Italian language teacher's way of scheduling his day, slow, observant & dreamy; discussions with friends and people in the field or business meetings (visiting growers of raw materials in Italy, appraising the heritage at Hermès) or more sophisticated/sensuous encounters (a purposefully arranged chef-guided dinner filled with gourmet appreciation or a Japanese Kodo ritual he attends).
All these occasions provide the stepping stone into pondering (instead of pontificating) about scents and of their artistic merits in a way that defies classification, but which indirectly draws upon the extensive body of western art criticism.

The book has the major advantage of being fit to be read out of order, taking the typical form of a diary, with places and dates of entry. I find myself leafing through, returning to a page when fancy strikes, pondering for a while for meanings that take on a different nuance once I have re-sniffed one of his creations, realizing that he doesn't aim to resolve anything (like an open-ended movie, this is a book to make you think for yourself!), just to communicate his thoughts, his questions, his own maturing process. It's an invitation to a dance for two, cheek-to-cheek, rather than a carefully orchestrated performance on video for all to watch in awe.

The final chapter "Summary of Smells", an index where the author reveals a few of his tricks into producing odors  from combining two or three simple raw materials, isn't meant as a chemical cheat sheet into how his perfumes are composed, nor to be parroted by bloggers and writers; it's a game he beckons us to play so as to gain insights and prompt us to experience things anew.
His entry for OLIVE for instance reads:

"This smells describes the Mediterranean single-handedly. From black olives to olive paste, via olive oil, my nose and palate find endless connections: smells of truffles, castoreum, human smells, smells I am drawn to.  

castoreum
benzyl salicylate 

To which you can add styrax resinoid and thyme if you want to produce the taste of olive paste."

Source: thenowbook.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

Ellena's prose is tender, unpretentious, ethereal like Giono's stories or Japanese ink calligraphy, and deeply personal. Because, beyond the "search for beauty", art is defined by the purposeful will to communicate something from creator to public, and that something can never be non personal. The more impersonal and all-encompassing that message tries to be, the less artistic the end result becomes. And this is the gist (and gift!) of Ellena's diary...

As the oracle would say "make your own nature, not the advice of others, your guide in life." [1]

The Diary of a Nose: A Year in the life of a Parfumeur 
by Jean Claude Ellena 
Rizzoli ExLibris, an imprint of Rizzoli New York 
ISBN: 978-0-8478-4042-7 
Hardcover 24.95$

[1] oracle given to Marcus Tulius Cicero by the Delphi oracle in 83 BC

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfume Books reviews & news

What Will 2013 Bring? Upcoming Fragrance Launches

The year has began and anticipation is building. For those of you who read Italian, Simona Savelli over at Extrait.it has done a most interesting post on past "cult" perfumes from years ending in 3, just like 2013, wondering what new cult classic the new year will bring forth.

I won't go that far ahead just yet, but in the interests of sorting out the mess, I have highlighted some of the more anticipated or more prime for snark perfume releases of 2013 with a little commentary of my own on why they're looked forward to in one way or another. Many thanks to Robin of NST and to the  Fragrantica Perfume Encyclopedia for archiving the industry news. The dates below mostly refer to US releases (sometimes Europe gets some releases ahead or vice versa). If you have more conclusive info on specific dates or anything else to comment upon, don't hesitate to add it in the comments.

Anna Sui La Vie de Bohème: Remember those gothic black bottles of the original Sui or the dolly head scary ones for Dolly Girl? I expect something visually striking again.

Balenciaga L’Eau Rose (March 2013): Every Balenciaga fragrance has tongues wagging, because they have perfect top to bottom design (even if they're not entirely groundbreaking). Hopeful. 

Bottega Veneta Eau Légère (February 2013): The original Bottega Veneta EDP is a hard act to follow and was as perfect as perfection goes. I wonder if lightening would be needed, but then a summery version perhaps would be good.   

Carven new fragrance for women: When was the last time Carven issued a fragrance? Right...The uber-classic Ma Griffe and the elusive Carven Vetiver are legends. Let's see!

Castelbajac new fragrance: No name yet. The original smelled of children's glue and almonds.

Chloé See by Chloé (February 2013): One of my readers is taken with a scent strip smelled in a magazine. She says it's a fruity floral with a yummy subtle vanilla. Hoping for more of the Love, Chloe camp than the screechy soapy Chloe by Chloe.

Christian Dior Hypnotic Poison Eau Secrète (January 2013):  Eau Sensuelle was a lighter version of the Hypnotic Poison brand which smelled quite true. Is another "eau" needed? Who knows. We'll find out soon enough.

Elizabeth & James (Olsen twins) debut fragrance (March 2013): Gossip columns anticipated that for some time. The time has come. (Can't bring myself to say "finally")

Givenchy fragrance for men fronted Simon Baker (Spring 2013): The preliminary ads for Givenchy Gentleman with mr.Mentalist gallantly holding the umbrella look promising. Could this be something different enough for Givenchy to recalibrate their image?

Gucci Gucci Museo Forever Now (early 2013): If only because the name is so non sensical.

Gucci Guilty Black & Guilty Black Pour Homme (February 2013): The bottles looks fetching. 

Jean Paul Gaultier Le Beau Male (February 2013) : A flanker, but Le Male is an uncontested best-seller for years, so its variations pose an interest.

Jimmy Choo Flash (March 2013) : The shoe brands are going strong. 

Jo Malone Sugar & Spice collection (March 2013): The previous Tea Collection was rather good. The Spice part has me excited, the Sugar one not so much.

Kanye West debut fragrance from Parlux: What celebritoid have we had shoved down our throats this past year? You guessed it. 

La Maison de la Vanille Intense Patchouli, Ambre Secret & Royal Oud: Something non especially vanillic from la Maison de la Vanille. Oh, and an oud! (fancy that!)

L’Artisan Parfumeur Caligna (Spring 2013): No major info yet ("addictive and aromatic" is the bit I leaned), but it's not a Duchaufour which might be interesting in its own right. 

Louis Vuitton debut fragrance by perfumer Jacques Cavallier : We have been talking about this for some time. Let there be light!

Maison Francis Kurkdjian new fragrace (September 2013): Because the niche house generates its own buzz.

Malle Frederic for Dries van Noten: a new fragrance is being developed and we will hear about it soon. 

Marni by Marni (February 2013): Preliminary tweets talking about "burning flowers" are intriguing.

Repetto debut fragrance (with InterParfums, 2013): The famous flats now come accessorized with scent.

Roberto Cavalli Just Cavalli (February 2013): Cavalli will soon have its own spot in hell along with Boss, Gucci, Ferre and Dior for confusing us so very much with the sameness in the perfume names.

Salvatore Ferragamo Acqua Essenziale (February 2013): Shoe brands are busier than ever!

Serge Lutens La Fille de Berlin (February 2013): Every Serge is highly anticipated. (And just wait till La Vierge en Fer rolls out later on in the year in the Exclusives line)

Versace Pour Homme Oud Noir (January 2013): Versace didn't have an Oud or a Noir in their line up, did they? Double whammy.

Yves Rocher Ambre Noir (January 2013): Yves Rocher makes some more upscale fragrances and this one looks like the men's equivalent of their feminine Ambre, with deep foresty notes. Could be the bargain of the year, we'll see.  Note the "noir" again in the name. (With that much pitch black darkness it's a wonder anyone will be able to see where they put their bottles)

Zac Posen debut fragrance: Another designer brand which might potentially be a good entry into the world of fragrances. 

pic via extrait.it

The Ugly Reality of Fragrance Sameness: Insights into Stagnant Practices

The homogeneity of fragrances in the marketplace is markedly poignant, especially lately. If you have shopped for perfume yourself (and who hasn't) you have surely noted it, despairing at the lack of what could be different enough to jolt your senses into a eureka moment. It seldom happens. If you have followed out Twin Peaks articles comparing smell alike perfumes you are equipped with solid argumentative aces. Back in 2008 I had devoted space into why it's so difficult to protect a perfume formula as a unique intellectual property with all rights stemming from this and why formulae are copied, more or less.

There are reasons however that are increasingly more relevant than just the historical explanations or the "shooting" of the scent juice that goes on behind closed doors. Those reasons have to do with both marketing research and with chemical intricacies going on in the laboratory. Let's take them one by one.

Source: chiccham.blogspot.com via Sandy on Pinterest

How Perfume Marketing Tests Work

 Modern perfume development for the mainstream invariably involves focus groups. Each perfume "draft" is presented to a randomly chosen public segment, stratified according to their social status. But they are not presented with the draft free to comment on it the way an evaluator works. There is no free association or technical comments, if only because there is no specific knowledge of how to go about the latter and the former would be practically useless and highly individualized anyway. Instead people are presented with a couple of fragrance "mods" juxtaposed with a benchmark perfume that has been performing very well in the market for some time (an Angel, a Tresor, a Dior J'Adore, a Cool Water...). They fill out a predefined questionnaire which will further dictate the twists in the formula that the evaluators will demand of the perfumer. This is why best-selling/popular perfume lists based on market research are somewhat skewed to begin with, exactly because they commence with certain givens within the parameters of which the subjects are allowed to move. This is why so many fragrances smell like tiny variations of the exact same design.

And because time and financial pressures are huge, often the direction of the perfume (the "brief") is given not to one team headed by a single perfumer, but to many, in different companies. If each of them modifies a small part of the whole, then more than one perfumer takes credit for the finished product. This is you end up with not knowing who masterminded what, which in a way devalues the artistic authorship.

The Ubiquitousness of the Same Raw Materials

 One can complain about the endless tirade of pink pepper or oud in the listed "notes" of any given perfume press release, but the truth is that the notes list bears little resemblance to what actually goes inside the perfume formula ingredients-wise. Basically no more than 20 manufactured raw materials (natural-identical or synthesized anew) get recycled endlessly. These include citronellol, phenyl ethyl alcohol, hedione, heliotropine, ionone, methyl ionone, hydroxycitronellal (despite the IFRA reductions it can still be used in very small amounts), coumarin (ditto), Lilial, salicylates, patchouli, Iso-E Super, synthetic sandalwood, vanillin, synthetic musks, and ambroxan. They potentially have the ability to build diverse "effects" when put into context, but the reason they're preferred has to do with two very important reasons.

One is their unchanging nature; they are stable, technically dependable materials, linear, practical and always of the same quality standards (unlike the wavering quality of natural materials or less stabilized ones which are making their way out of the perfumer's palette as we speak). Therefore they're produced in gigantic quantities and supply dictates usage. They have effectively become perfumers' currency.

Not only that, but the vast supply and subsequent widespread use means that the public has been accustomed to them via familiarization; and familiarization, in matters so inextricably tied to memory and emotion as smell is, means that the public seeks them out again and again.

A vicious circle exacerbated by the avalanche rhythm of fragrance releases in the last decade.