The Dior Chypres series ~Diorama: fragrance review

"Cabochard, Dioressence, Diorama were offerings to goddesses, not presents to women". This is how Luca Turin addressed the masterpiece by Edmond Roudnitska that came in 1949 like a luminous cognac diamond to adorn the crown of Christian Dior parfums. He couldn't have said it better.
Diorama, unlike its cohorts in divinity who have lapsed from Heaven, was recently re-issued (along with Diorling) by Roja Dove to results that do not insult its precious, beautiful visage of a classical Venus de Milo.

Luca Turin has been reported to pan the jus circulating at the Avenue Montaigne shop in comparison to the vintage -which one would assume he got procured by the miraculous and forbidable Mme Pillaud in Menton:

"It was real Diorama, a one-ounce tester, the first postwar Dior perfume, not the crap you you buy today for two hundred dollars on avenue Montaigne that bears no resemblance to the original fragrance." (Chandler Burr, "Emperor of Scent" 2003, p.19)

I have alas only dried up dregs of my glamorous, Paris-shopping grandmother's mini vial to compare to the reissued version which I sampled recently {click to learn how}, but if the reissue is any miniscule indication of the greatness of the original, then by God, I would have been blinded with awe.

According to perfumer Jean Claude Ellena, talking about Diorama :

"No perfume has ever had more complex form and formula, more feminine contours, more sensual, more carnal. It seduces us with its spicy notes: pepper, clove, cinnamon, nutmeg, cumin, the scent of skin. It is disturbing with its animalic notes: castoreum, civet, musk. All the accords and themes to follow are contained in this perfume: the wood and the violet, the plum and the peach, the jasmine and the spices"

(author's translation).

Diorama is a chypre of classical structure poised between Femme and Mitsouko and rounding out the best features of both, while it could also be argued that it contains the sperms of calm and restrained fruity exploration that will be expressed in Parfum de Thèrese and Diorella. Unfortunately for me, Parfum de Thèrese soon acquires a metallic aqueous aspect that I find disagreeable, so perhaps I might not be the best judge of such a comparison. The idea however had been suggested to me by good friend Denyse Beaulieu and I think it's worth exploring if you get the chance to have both at hand.

The bergamot top note of Diorama allied to spicy notes of nutmeg, cinnamon and cardamom recall the spice caravan that leads the camels of Eau d'Hermès, another Roudnitska creation, but also the cinnamon bite of Mitsouko that contributes to its spicy woodiness. Cumin was explored as a sweaty note addition to the re-issue of Femme (under Olivier Cresp's baguette) and contibutes a lot to its carnality, which I personally find very pleasurable. In Diorama, cumin is apparently held in check and other elements of more animalic nature are sensed in the depths of the scent, very slowly.

The plum element of Femme , a base of a methyl ionone compound, adorns the composition with a richness that greets you upon first smell along with peach aldehydes, all golden and ripe, softening the whole into a velvety sheen. It is so smooth, so buttery, you can't help stopping and inhaling deeply, admiring your own humble self even if you are feeling like hell and feel even worse.
Diorama has the rare power to obliterate anything you might project visually and transport the one who smells it into a better place, a better time. Its clear, incadescent heart of jasmine which I feel emerge after the first ten minutes projects warmly in a radius that encompasses everyone that will lean a little bit closer. It is a jasmine that is rich, ardent and indeed beautiful. Despite what notes are given, as I lean on my wrists pondering on the beauty of such a smell I perceive a clear lily of the valley note, an aroma that is usually replicated by hydroxicitronellal, as lily of the valley/muguet is a flower whose smell is elusive. (It is well known that Roudnitska grew the heady flowers to study them in order to replicate their divine smell in Diorissimo). That note gives an unexpected freshness, like the one that will surface in Diorella along with hesperidic and peachy touches later on and here marries well with jasmine and another white floral of a greener, piquant aspect.
You can't really distinguinsh when the mossy aspects of vetiver, moss and patchouli enter the scene like dramatic actors in a Shakesperean Midsummer Night's Dream, but when they do along with erotic undertones of labdanum and the leathery odour of animalic castoreum you know they will stay on the skin for hours mesmerising you.

All the themes evolve and revolve one into the other, like "a dream within a dream". You could say that Diorama was the seminal work of Roudnitska that contains his profound ideas on perfume aesthetics to be later dissected and minutely examined in his prolific career.

The lasting power is phenomenal for an eau de toilette concentration (at least on my skin) and in this regard it is excellent value for money.

Diorama, the way I perceive it, smells opulent and quite old-fashioned: the way real women smelled all those years ago, the way my glamorous grandmother smelled, when the hysteria of artificial freshness hadn't surged and people actually dressed for dinner even if by themselves at home. I know, it sounds such a weird concept to our modern ears...However if you have ever got into a satin little slipdress in cerulean blue and got the escargots and Cristalle from the fridge to celebrate by yourself, instead of munching Oreos wearing flannel bear-printed pyjamas, you know what I mean. In short, Diorama is a retrospective. But so much worth it...

Available in the classic 125 ml bottle of eau de toilette.
Boutique Dior is located at 28-30 Avenue Montaigne, 75008 Paris.
Fax number to order: 00 33 1 40 73 57 95
Also available at Le Bon Marché (in Paris) and at Harrods (at Roja Dove's Haute Parfumerie) in London.

Pic from okadi. Painting Pygmalion and Galatea by Jean-Léon Gérôme courtesy of allposters.com. Translations of JCE quote from the french by helg

Perfumery Restrictions and Why Everything We Say in Public Matters

There is a show on Greek TV called “Proof” in which famous journalist Nikos Evaggelatos reveals the scandals of various industries by having reporters infiltrate and report back in audio and video every gory detail to the shock, repulsion and wrath of the audience. Actual names are not revealed, no one is brought to task in practice and although there is an expert’s panel and a participating audience at the studio, no specific solution is proposed at the end of the show and the issues are left hanging there.

In more ways than I would be comfortable with, the latest NZZ Folio article by Dr.Luca Turin, proclaiming “Perfumery, a hundred-year-old art, has taken a long time dying, but on January 1, 2010 it will be officially dead”, reminded me of that sensationalist approach. The issue has been already addressed and the restrictions had been warned of, premonitored and fought against by several writers and activists. It’s not really news, especially to Turin-reading perfume enthusiasts, since he has been writing about it at every opportunity for years. My dissenting voice is not disputing the seriousness of the latest reformulations in the industy (yes, they’re dire and largely irrational) but an attempt to bring logic to what is apparently an impassioned subject that makes us momentarily lose our powers of reasoning.

A brief recap: Regulatory body IFRA (International Fragance Association) regularly issues a catalogue of perfumery ingredients’ guidelines with which major manufacturing companies (ie.the companies who make the juice, such as IFF, Givaudan, Takasago etc. as opposed to those who commision it ~the Lauder Group, LVMH Group who owns Guerlain and Dior among others, the Gucci Group etc.) comply with, so as to minimise potential consumers’ complaints & lawsuits; a stance that has been sanctioned as law by the EU Commission at Brussels, which is the real “news”. Now let’s go back a few years: In Nov.2004 a NZZ Folio Duftnote by Luca warns about the reformulation of one of Guerlain’s masterpieces (Mitsouko). His newly-published blog "Perfume Notes" debuts in 2005, pronouncing "The End of Civilization as We Know it” concerning the changes at Guerlain: the perfume community sounds its barbaric yawp through the rooftops of the world and Guerlain PR Isabelle Rousseau's mail gets spammed. For many this was a first; oblivious to the inner workings of the industry, whatever doubt they had on the altered smell of their favourites was not directly attibuted to reformulation. But the approach created an unprecedented turmoil within the perfume community and it indirectly acted as a test of power. Although in mid-2007 the pneuma of the original Mitsouko was pronounced living on in the reformulated juice (by Edouard Fléchier) by Luca, it seems brought back to task just now in April 2009, along with other perfumes.

What changed in the interim? The perfume community came together tight as a fist (commendable), perfume blogging in general became a springboard for careers (predictable), Luca Turin close a book contract (desirable) and perfume companies have continued –or, should I say, escalated- reformulating their juices regardless on their merry way to the bank (lamentable). If anything the historical scope proves that forceful articles and community outcries do not hold the power to inflict changes in the industry!

All written word in the public domain and transmitted through a network of interested parties should have a purpose. If the purpose is not informational journalism (the issue is well known and addressed in the latest supplement of Pefumes the Guide, while the IFRA amendments are downloadable for all to see) or activism manifestation (to which we have already seen that the corporate world pays little attention to), I am at a loss on what purpose that latest article serves!
A couple of issues obscure the justified plea for change and the criticism on Dr.Rastogi: Demonization (environmentalist chemist Suresh Chandra Rastogi, Scientific Committee on Consumer Products, IFRA itself, the perfume companies), argumenting ad hominem (“I am not disputing the veracity of Dr Rastogi’s research, though it makes mind-numbingly dull reading”), argumenting ad populum ( “fragrance has no demonstrable benefit other than beauty” and “beauty cannot be measured” with which readers en masse agree), and of course first and foremost argumentum ad verecundiam, aka appeal to authority ~ that of the author himself! Is the biblical simile of The Man Who Cried Doom lost on everyone but me?

In talking about Dr.Rastogi’s work, Luca says “you discover some real but minor problem in a fragrance ingredient. Nice work and you can tell your family when you get home”. That’s the main difference between Rastogi and Turin: reach! Dr.Turin has been given a public podium read by a specific niche of readership who cares very much for those issues and who accepts any such news with fear, panic and wrath (“In another scientific paper titled “The Composition of fragrances is changing” Dr Rastogi analyses old and new perfumes and notes that his work is having an effect”). Dr.Rastogi has not. For what is worth I can see that he is Senior Reseach Scientist at the National Environmental Research Institute of the Ministry of the Environment at Roskilde, Denmark and he has a solid body of publications on allergens research, so I deduce he is serious. In all probability nevertheless his self-defence will be conducted through closed doors of university laboratories and scientific publications which, as a fellow scientist of another field, I know are only read by a specific niche: namely, scientists in the field ~ergo not the perfume enthusiasts’ community. The fight is thus unequal and it feels like a test of power. I would hate to see it as a Philippic interpreted à la Jacqueline de Romilly (ie. a raison d 'être) and thus I am giving both Luca and Rastogi every benefit of a doubt till further notice.

The 43rd IFRA amendment includes several “threatening” essences: jasmine absolute (both sambac and grandiflorum), ylang ylang, heliotropin, frankincense, eugenol and isoeugenol (spicy notes)…. . Please note nevertheless that Restricted is not the same as Prohibited. Restricted means allowed to be used up to certain levels and under certain circumstances. Costus had no chance in any form (oil, absolute or concrete), nor does masoia bark for flavours; but neither does the very new Majantol (a quite new lily of the valley synthetic). Oakmoss/mousse de chêne however somehow might and we will talk about it and other ingredients in some length in the following post.
IFRA was imposing recommendations for a variety of compounds such as oakmoss for a while, the industry following them resulting in numerous reformulations across the brands for at least 10 years now. Thus, for most modern fragrances these standards are not a big issue.

The dream of bypassing the EU by making perfumes on non-EU soil however is futile: the EU cosmetics legislation would only move to the American FDA. It's all about economics and the location of the target market of any specific house. In the words of independent pefumer Andy Tauer:

“Who are the members of IFRA? You will see that the big industry is in there, as members, like IFF*. Thus, all regulations are basically influenced by the big industry, too. There seems to be a mutual interest (commission/big industry) and the entire process is driven by industry, too. I feel that the EU Commission is just proving once more that it does not really care about economic growth, about the citizens it's representing, or small and medium -sized enterprises ( SMEs) but rather plays its game with the big ones, meeting with the who is who; thus the smaller enterprises have to either accept what comes out of these dances or perish.” *{quote from IFRA page: Since the GA of October 17, 2007, companies may also become Direct Ordinary Members of IFRA"}.

It has to do with papework as well, because several cosmetics and toiletries are produced locally for tax reasons, so not all products of one brand are produced at one place.
IlseM points out on the Perfume of Life board which is ruffled:

“IFF is being sued by hundreds of microwave popcorn factory workers because the diacetyl in their butter flavorings caused those workers to contract the irreversible lung disease bronchiolitis obliterans. I remember when Consumer Reports tested fragrances for phthalates after they were supposedly removed from all fragrances. CR found them in many of those fragrances and even in ones where
the companies claimed never to have used pthalates. In a few cases the level was even higher than when testing was done before their removal! It's hard to believe that the fragrance industry is motivated by product safety concerns.”

But the perfume community itself has responsibilities too! When perfume writing broke into the Internet and Press scene in 2005 ~an epoch seemingly as far back as the Pleistocene for most people’s memories~ there was heated discussion concerning the use or not of aromachemicals (ie.materials synthesized in the lab for use in perfumery) as opposed to natural ingredients. Authors breaking into the scene championed synthetics ~deeming them no less important or more important than naturals. I distinctly remember people saying that it didn’t matter what their perfumes were composed of, “as long as they smelled good”. Those words are now coming to kick them in the butt in a not-as-nice way. Why the delayed outcry on the axing of several natural essences? We’re catered for with what we asked!
“Smelling good” is a relative term and perfumers can create new compositions tapping as yet unknown resources and new frontiers -which might produce the classics of tomorrow; it would be both hypocritical and rushed on our part to en masse condemn everything that comes out of the labs of companies as an original composition complying to the newest regulations. After all, some fragrances which have been deliberately constructed to bypass restrictions have already gained critical acclaim. Some, like Futur by Piguet, have even been reworked with the help of Luca Turin himself! As mentioned by the president of Piguet, Joe Garces, on Sniffapalooza magazine March 19th 2009:

"With the help and guidance of the most diverse fragrance critic from across the pond who loved “Futur” from its original launch, I have been fortunate to find the final road map with his guidance to the glamorous fragrance that once was. Because of the genius and passion of Luca Turin we will present the perfect “Futur”.)

Although restrictions have really gone over the edge and this is shared as a concern by all the perfumers with whom I have been in discussion, not everything is doom and gloom. In a previous interview with Sandrine Videault, when asked about it, she told me new perfumers have no great difficulty working with the palette proposed, as they do not feel restraint in not being able to use what they have not worked with before. The creativity will change. On top of that, small niche firms can continue to use questionable ingredients in higher ratios than those complied with by the bigger firms (provided they can still source the supplies, which is the main issue. To quote Tauer again: “The restrictions imposed by EU will kill many suppliers or essential oils and absolutes, as the longer the regulations remain, the more a burden. Thus, I am faced with a narrowing market for high quality essential oils”. Outlaw is like outlaw does! So the real problem is classics coming from big brands. But those have been already seriously altered, which is something we have been witnessing for decades now and reporting. Classics will remain a museum piece by their very evanescent nature; it’s inevitable, alas. In the words of Jean Claude Ellena who is taking the modernist approach (and who makes interesting perfumes with the questionable ingredients, such as Iso-E Super, at well-below recommended ratio, bless his heart) “we can’t build the future only on history”.
If you need to do something about it you can mail Société Française des Parfumeurs: 36, rue du Parc de Clagny 78000 Versailles, France. Tél: (+33) 01 39 55 84 34 Fax : (+33) 01 39 55 73 64. Or the Commission for Cosmetics and Legal devices, mail to: staffdir@ec.europa.eu

Bottom line, obituaries might be a little premature and indignation with no suggestions offered is akin to pissing in the wind.


©Elena Vosnaki for the Perfume Shrine.

The Season of Plenty Upon Us: Autumn Fragrances to Savor

Now that the temperatures are slowly cooling and the humidity is falling (but any occasional showers are still crisp and cool instead of grim and ghastly) my mood is picking up. I look forward to students' backpacks, hot coffee with long cinnamon sticks, turning leaves, lightweight cashmere knits and new books! Many and varied new books  for every  single  taste.
And there's another unforeseen but important plus in the coming season. Finally one can go out in mixed company with more than a single spray of perfume behind one's knees. Rejoice!

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Yves Saint Laurent design 1975 shot by Helmut Newton

Fall in many places on the northern hemisphere is a time when the temperatures really drop. We can savor the opportunity to favor a more concentrated version of our preferred fragrance. If you like something in eau de toilette, give a try to the eau de parfum or even extrait de parfum version. These are usually richer in base notes which evaporate much slower, meaning you will be surrounded by your perfume for longer. If that was bothersome in the summer it is now desirable when the weather is cool and your more delicate scents feel insignificant.

For those of you wanting to explore ways to expand the potential of your existing fragrance wardrobe I have analyzed a good bit of ways in my article on Fragrantica: Falling into Fall Patterns. 

For those who want to see my personal choices for this autumn season here's a brief "looking forward to" (as the temperatures haven't dropped enough yet) I have compiled.

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A VERY PERSONAL PERFUME SELECTION OF 12 SCENTS FOR EARLY FALL 

NB. All linked names open up fragrance reviews. 

Bottega Veneta eau de parfum

Almost a modern classic. This fruity leathery fragrance possesses the classiness of yesterdays with the contemporary edge of a modern seductress. My newish bottle is also the gift of a very dear friend. 

Bvlgari Black (original)

For years I have loved this rubbery smoky vanilla by Italian jeweller Bulgari with the passion it justly deserves but have worn it sparingly. Now that they have substituted it with a different men's scent by the same name it gains a twisted nuance; "what is it you're wearing?" Try and guess dude.

Dame Perfumery Dark Horse 

A player if I ever saw any in liquid form! Rich and addictive but also fresh and charming. A study in contrasts. 

Diorling (2000s re-issue)

The finest leather scent this side of Doblis (Hermes) and one that is ineffably sharper without cutting anyone's skin. Though this is also good in summertime alongside my beloved Bandit (Piguet) or Etro Gomma I have not worn this one in what seems like ages. Life is short and I should remedy this misstep.

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Guerlain Mitsouko (mostly vintage Eau de Toilette and Extrait)

The eroticism that shouldn't be erotic. There's just something to the way the previous sentence rings,  isn't there? Explore Guerlain's classic Mitsouko (great deal HERE btw) if you want to find out just how this theorem works. 

Neela Vermeire Creations Mohur extrait 

Succulent florals with a gourmand touch are a difficult genre but perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour has created a masterpiece under the inspired guidance of Neela Vermeire. The entire line is highly worthwhile your time and investment actually.

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I just love leather gloves!

Paco Rabanne La Nuit 

Another leather fragrance and you might be discerning a pattern so far. If so you're not far off the truth. Although I like leathery smells in the summer too (because they cut through the humidity of it all) autumn weather is more fit for those with animalic notes. Slot taken by this discontinued vintage marvel. 

Sarah Jessica Parker Lovely eau de parfum 

One needs something to fall back upon (no pun intended) for days when they can't be bothered to think about stuff; when they're already overwhelmed. I was reminded of this light musk fragrance with abstract florals due to another dear friend and I think I'll finish off my bottle this year (and probably replenish).

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Serge Lutens  Boxeuses 

The niche interpretation of the above mentioned Bottega Veneta edp recipe (samples available for the latter HERE). So good and so beautiful in its stewed prunes hue that I want to bathe in it.

Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet

A rather recent acquisition of a frarance bottle and just the right dose of piquant spiciness of cloves to render this floral an intriguing companion to quiet nights. 

The Body Shop Red Musk

A whiff of pipe tobacco and dried apricots smell remnants on a beloved's dressing gown is an image I can take to bed and get very pleasant dreams. 

Tom Ford Prive Santal Blush

One of the silkiest sandalwoods in modern production and that says it all. It's not anything like you expect and should fit a multitude of lifestyles and skins. Men's as well as women's.


So I'll have these in rotation for the beginning of autumn it seems. I might enrich with orientals and more chypres as time goes on so I'll update mid-fall.
What are YOU looking forward to wearing this season? Share it in the comments below the article.


Related reading on Perfume Shrine: 
Trick or Treat: Top Fall Fragrances
Falling in Love: Scents and Treats for Autumn
Matching Perfume to Fall's Trendiest Fashions
Perfume Primers: Chypre Fragrances for Newbies 

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When is a Fake not a Fake?

Browsing through online auctions and reading perfume fora one is left with the impression that highly unscrupulous vendors are roaming the Net "selling algae for silk ribbons". This Greek idiom describes exactly what sometimes happens: something quite different with only a passing resemblance to the coveted is being sold with claims of greatness all the same. This has proven a beneficial compass for the average consumer at the back of their minds no doubt, as people have increasingly become more sophisticated over the years and know how to spot a fake when they see one. It has also created a sort of panic and knee-jerk reaction however, even when witnessing unusual but nonetheless legitimate specimens. Today, let's see three unusual offerings which in one capacity or the other I was drawn to offer some proficiency on in the past few days. Perhaps not coincidentally, they all involve Guerlain...(To explain myself, I simply mean that a fragrance house with hundreds of flacon designs and as many perfumes of modern or vintage cut to contend with, being confused comes with the territory).



Exhibit A:

L'Heure Bleue by Guerlain 75ml Eau de Toilette in the typical "bouchon coeur" bottle (1911) in which the fragrance (as well as Mitsouko) is traditionally housed. YET the label and box are identical to the old "petit beurre" design (from 1916) which also housed Vague Souvenir, Pour Troubler, Kadine, Rue de la Paix, Candide Effleuve.... What's happening? Are we confronted with a fake label and box? Or with a rare, precious vintage? Relax; neither is the case. It wouldn't make sense to fake the label/box, but not the bottle or the fragrance. And the seller has actually five identical offerings to sell, making it rather less rare than one might at first think. Plus the juice looks pristine and very fresh (sprayer mechanism too) for an old vintage.
Verdict: A limited edition bottle from the "limbo" years when the recent LVMH take-over had resulted in several issues of renewed presentation.


Exhibit B:

My friend Dimitri got hold of that one and consulted me about it. I was greatly intrigued! A Shalimar extrait in the typical "bouchon coeur" bottle in glass that only ever housed L'Heure Bleue, Fol Arôme (both from 1912) and later Mitsouko (1919). Since Shalimar has a well documented history on these pages, how could this be possible? The juice is authentic and so is the bottle and label, incidentally. The bottom (not shown) has a label typical of the years between the two world wars and the 1960s, but without the usual stamping in red ink.
Verdict: Shortages of war probably resulted in using a former mould (that of L'heure Bleue indeed) to house a fragrance in search of a bottle.


Exhibit C:

Another Guerlain "bouchon coeur" bottle, this time bearing a (rather worn) Calèche by Hermès label! It looks like a mutant, infested with great genes which somehow got jumbled when the genetic dice was cast and is forever incancerated due to collateral shame. Technically not a fake, but doubtful that either Guerlain or Hermes fans would be very much pleased.
Verdict: Someone once owned and liked the "bouchon coeur" bottle very much; so much in fact that they decanted their Caleche fragrance into it and relabelled so as not to confuse themselves. Then again, that someone probably died at some point and left someone else with something incomprehensible on their hands...which they're now trying to sell with ludicrous results.

Vintage Advertising Champions: In the Trenches

Today's vintage advertisement comes equipped with the romanticism that has become expected from one of the classic perfumes by the historical house of Guerlain, L'heure bleue. The pictorial representation takes on the approach of fragrance as a "memory maker", a concept very popular with the fragrance industry because it seems to allow for the manipulation of someone else's emotional response; or so the thinking goes…(whether it is successful or not you'll be the judge of that, I'm sure you have many related experiences to relay in the comments).

The text for the Guerlain advertisement reads:

"1914, a fragrance creates deep, deep memories.
Guerlain introduced a perfume named for the twilight, L'Heure Bleue. No the skies darken and the western world is swept into the forces of the Great war…
A weary French officers finds a moment of peace. He pulls a letter from his tunic and inhales the fragrance lingering in the worn pages. 
It is the fragrance she wore the last night they spent together. L'Heure Bleue, named for that moment hen the sky has lost the sun but not yet found the stars. 
He reads the letter for the hundredth time…."

The advertisement is of course destined for the American (and English speaking) market as clearly shown by the choice of language, the capitalization of the name's initials (in French it's L'heure bleue) and the emphasis on the nationality of the officer (so you know for sure it's French!) But the really interesting part is that this ad, although an older advertisement, isn't that old as could be imagined. It's not a print ad from a 1920s magazine, nor even from the 1930s, or the 1940s….Can you guess?? It's a print ad clipping from a ……1974 magazine!!!! The Great war is irrelevant for all practical purposes by then, the "deep deep memories" echoing the trenches in which soldiers fought all over Europe are but a subconscious bond of "perfume as Proustian madeleine", a notion that is the bread & butter of any aspiring beauty editor experiencing writer's block. In this particular case it comes sheathed with seduction purposes too; desire and connection through language, orchestrated with Lacanian skill. The emotional bond with the product is part of what makes for repeat purchases. It also creates brand awareness.

But the mythology of Guerlain is firmly in place (yes, even by the mid-70s). The genius concept of presenting two of their legendary ~and commercially successful, let's not forget~ perfumes, L'heure bleue (1912) and Mitsouko (1918), as bookends to the first world war, is already gaining momentum. The reality is different: L'heure bleue, conceived to represent the love of its perfumer for Impressionist paintings is destined for the blondes shopping at his Parisian boutique, whereas Mitsouko, paying homage to the orientalia rising at the time of its creation and into the 1920s, is meant for the brunettes.

But you can clearly see where this is going: that which begins as a brilliant advertising campaign very soon becomes perpetuated into history guides, into fragrant lore, into our very perception of how things  are supposed to be….

Ode by Guerlain: fragrance review and history

He locked the door behind him and came over and sat on her bed and put one hand firmly on the little hill that was her left breast. "Now listen, Tracy" he began, meaning to ask her at least one or two questions, find out something about this wonderful girl who did hysterical things like gambling without the money to meet her debts, driving like a potential suicide, hinting that she had had enough of life. But the girl reached up a swift hand that smelt of Guerlain's Ode and put it across his lips. "I said 'no conversation'. Take off those clothes. Make love to me. You are handsome and strong. I want to remember what it can be like. Do anything you like. And tell me what you like and what you would like from me. Be rough with me. Treat me like the lowest whore in creation. Forget everything else. No questions. Take me.”

If the above piece of prose is nudging you into an abyss of sensual surrender (and a little sideways feministic complaining as well), it's all because Ian Flemming knew a thing or two about perfumes and their secret language. Coming aboard chapter 4 in his novela "On Her Majesty's Secret Service", Ode is making an appearence as the feminine wile that seals the sentimental trap for James Bond: the one time in the old series when he falls in love.

Much like Liù is Guerlain's warmer interpretation of the aldehydic vision of Chanel's No.5, Ode is the Reconquista of the floral territory of classical luxury held by Patou's Joy. Yet it is also taking a page off the book of Arpège by Lanvin, another aldehydic floral, merging the two into an abstract creation that smells like a woman; like a woman very much of the era of its creation, I should clarify.
Jacques Guerlain created Ode, his last perfume, in 1955 with the assistance of his grandson Jean-Paul (aged 18 years at the time), heir to the family vault of formulae, passing the baton to catapult the house into the modern times: it was only a few years later that Jean Paul would write his own history with the fresh tonic Vétiver and the delicate caress of Chant d'Arômes.
Putting on Ode in extrait de parfum and contemplaing its time-frame however never fails to make me wonder how those milliners (Chanel began as one) and dressmakers played such a major part in the consciousness of even old and traditional perfumery houses such as Guerlain! And also how the platonic ~rather than the literal~ idea of flowers as transfigured into a feminine fragrance stood as the semiotics of how a woman was supposed to smell like in those times. After the roaring 1920s and 1930s with their strange and brave revolutions such as Guerlain's own Djedi , Mitsouko or Shalimar , the emancipated dukey Tabac Blond by Caron or Cuir de Russie by Chanel and the shocking evocations of Piguet's Bandit during the war, the mould would slowly fall back into traditional femininity as women eased their way out of the laboring workforce and into the homely caregivers or obedient secretaries. In 1955 a floral perfume should be more than the summation of its parts (Chanel's dictum that no woman wanted to smell like a rose bed had caught on firmly) yet also less of the animalics and sophisticated bombastics of the garçonnes' era.

Ode stands as a luminous floral in the Guerlain galaxy focusing on the luxurious rose and jasmine accord that is the pillar of classical French perfumery, yet it infuses it with gentle musk and a bit of the Guerlain vanilla which gives a warm, round feel. The rose is slightly more accentuated than jasmine to my sensibility, but perhaps this has to do with my desire to immerse myself in the indolic aroma of jasmine that makes me experience this as a void. Despite the passionate prose by Ian Flemming, Ode by Guerlain is subdued and elegant through an overture of aldehydes that nod to Arpège and a creamy, slightly powdery base of delicate iris and musks. Toned down compared to both its antecedants, it is gentle and retro feminine and it makes me feel that it wouldn't be hugely popular with today's sensibilities. In extrait de parfum it stays close to the skin as an invitation for further evaluation.

The original bottle of Ode, much like Liù, was inspired by the imposing American skyscrapers. It featured a curvilinear flacon design, partly frosted, and it was crowned with a rosebud stopper. The flacon was manufatured by both Bacarrat and Pochet et du Courval (the different manufacturer can be traced via the acid stamps on the bottom of the bottles) at different times. The design proved to be so successful that it hosted Vol de Nuit, Shalimar and Mitsouko as well in the early and mid 1950s.

Although Ode should have already been the next installment in the legacy collection Il était une fois after Véga in 2005 and Sous le Vent in 2006, no news of an upcoming launch have been issued more than a year after the supposed launch (summer of 2007) and the collection remains thus mangled. Along with Kadine (1911) and Cachet Jaune (1937) they were re-issued in 2005 for demonstration purposes for the celebration of the Paris flagship store renovation, where you can catch a whiff of those long-defunct perfumes being vaporised in the air inside the infamous "microwave oven" contraptions. Let us hope that Ode will join the legacy collection at some point and not remain a memory of things irrevocably past.

Notes for Ode: rose, jasmine, woods, musk

Pics of Ode ads through Toute en parfum and Parfum de pub.

Vetiver and Vetiver pour Elle by Guerlain: fragrance review

I guess I have to thank Elle McPherson: Australian 6-feet "the Body" supermodel of the 80s, whose signature fragrance has loyally been the masculine Vétiver by Guerlain. It makes sense: anything more traditionally feminine on that gorgeous specimen of Amazonesque womanhood and she'd burst!
Prompted by this unrealistic image, beknownst to me via religious leafing through British Vogue and French Elle editions, my teenager feet brought me before a Guerlain counter where I was spoilt for choice ~and in retrospect treated like a mature woman instead of a girl: Shalimar ("soft powder" the matronly but kindly sales assistant purred), L'Heure Bleue ("wistful flowers" she daydreamed), Mitsouko (I didn't need any coaxing on that one; I knew it well from my mother's dresser) and...off my hand went and grabbed the Vétiver tester. "That's for men, honey!" she gently admonished. And yet, why shouldn't I make it my own, like Elle had? The day was hot, school was out and I was determined to treat myself. Thus Vétiver and I became friends. For life.

Historically Vétiver was first created for the Mexico market, one of the biggest consumers of Guerlain's "Vetiver extrait". However Carven's strikingly fresh Vetiver (1957), already a huge success and the inspiration of the green packaging behind subsequent vetiver scents, prompted director Jean-Pierre Guerlain to modernize their own formula for larger distribution; especially since the house hadn't produced a true masculine since the days of their Eaux de Cologne, Jicky and Mouchoir de Monsieur. The commission was undertaken by his then 22-year-old nephew Jean-Paul. He focused on "the smell of the gardener" as a source of inspiration: outdoorsmen, their presence evoking the warmth of the earth with the freshness and vitality of nature, marrying tobacco to vetiver root.
If Givenchy's Vétyver is one of serene and self-assured patrician crepuscular composure, Guerlain's Vétiver is a bright day's morning optimism when anything seems achievable. Its vibrant, upbeat character with a citrusy edge helped made it a huge success, while Givenchy's languished, thus earning Guerlain yet another slot in the Pantheon of Greats.

Vétiver by Guerlain starts with a crisp citrusy accord that sustains itself for about 15 minutes, like ice crushed between jaws feels tingling the back of one's neck in the heat of August; or an hesperidic cologne with soft musks, fresh out from the fridge, sprayed on hot skin, creating goosepumps. Haitian vetiver is very complimentary to the lemony notes, rendering them ever so slightly soapy.
Technically classified in the Woods family by Michael Edwards, it soon proves why. The cascade of spicy, slightly bitter notes dominating is delightfully refreshing and addictive. As it puffs on a Romeo y Julietta, a bittersweet tobacco note emerges,rounding out the edges and providing the assurance of one's beloved dad in the days when he was a dynamic and suave young man, taking you in his arms for a goodnight kiss. Or another of its famous fans: Andy Garcia in his heyday, Cuban tobacco trailing off.
Vétiver is a comparatively light scent, compared to mustier, earthier renditions of the material, which however lasts well.

Despite Guerlain's claim to keeping the composition of Vétiver unaltered, my vintage from the 80s, in its squat square bottle similar to Habit Rouge, but with a deep forest green label (the label became more bottle-green in the 90s), points to a smokier and sweeter ambience with a rounder feel to it. It's thus more comforting and more insinuating, like what one imagines Lady Chatterley's Lover to be smelling of after working on a warm day, although the current version is also excellent, if rather drier and crisper.
Vetiver relaunched in 2000 with a new packaging and half clear/half frosted glass bottle (designed by Robert Granai) and more acid green juice rather than straw-coloured, which might indicate a slight tampering with the formula.
In 2000 a special edition was incorporated in Les Parisiennes lineup in a 500ml bee bottle for Boutique Guerlain, 68 Champs Elysées, Paris.

Notes for Vétiver Guerlain: orange, bergamot, lemon, neroli, pepper, nutmeg, coriander, capsicum, vetiver, cedar, tobacco, tonka bean.

Modern masculine spins (flankers) on the classic masterpiece proved somewhat lacking: Vétiver Eau Glacée ("Frozen Vetiver") has minty and nutty tonalities, but it lacks the richness of the original. Vétiver Extrême starts with a lathery sportly cleanless, adding a tarragon accent veering into the too herbaceous, while the development is quite oily and sweet due to a licorice background (a trait of many vetiver extracts) or according to Luca Turin "cheap English Leather drydown that would be ideal in furniture polish". (ouch!)

Vétiver Pour Elle by Jean Paul Guerlain, on the other hand, a feminine twist on the classic formula, was issued initially as a limited travel exclusive for people taking flight off Paris airports or railway stations, as a memento of their stay in the City of Light. It was encased in a bottle reminiscent of Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue (with the cap an upside down heart).
The story behind Vétiver pour Elle is that women had been usurping the masculine fragrance from their men and were always nagging Jean Paul to create something comparable for them, so he finally did! Whether that is the truth or whether Guerlain saw the untapped pool of exclusivity afficionados who have become more vocal and more visible due to the Internet is food for thought. In any case the fragrance is lovely and perhaps this proves their marketing radar is razor sharp: the furore around it resulted in its joining Les Parisiennes at the Guerlain Boutique, in the particular bee bottles of the line, as a permanent fixture.

Drawing upon the quiet tenderness of his superb Chant d'Arômes, Jean Paul Guerlain added a soft garland of fresh, green jasmine along with subtler, clean notes of lily of the valley and orange blossom and musks, to circumvent the tobacco backdrop of Vétiver for an added feminine touch, while the skeleton of bergamot, nutmeg and vetiver roots is kept intact in its classical, almost chyprish beauty. The result seems unisex like the enigmatic smile of a Mona Lisa: is it a woman model than we're seeing or the artist merely masqueraded by feminine wiles?

Notes for Vétiver pour Elle: bergamot, lily of the valley, honeysuckle, jasmine, nutmeg, orange blossom, vetiver, tonka bean

Vétiver pour Elle is currently available in the 125ml bee bottle of Les Parisiennes line and can be bought at the 68 Champs Elysées boutique Guerlain, Paris. Use this conctact for inquiries.

Pic of masculine Vetiver (pour lui) ad with the vintage bottle depicted and of the travel edition bottle of Vetiver pour Elle, courtesy of Parfum de Pub.
Pic of Elle McPherson via Cinema-stars.com. Pic of Andy Garcia from the film "The Untouchables", via Geocities.

Guerlain La Petite Robe Noire no.2: fragrance review

Sharing the news a while ago on a second "model" of La Petite Robe Noire, a previous Guerlain fragrance that divided perfume enthusiasts, was a double-edged sword: On the one hand, one wants to like a new Guerlain, possibly because of the heritage and the luxe French factor. On the other hand, Guerlain lately have been reviving the brand in ways which have left a bitter taste in the mouth of hard-core fans, even though it garnered them new audiences and certainly a lot money in Swiss banks. La Petite Robe Noire no.2 has a problematic name to begin with, but that's not all.

Just imagine having to answer someone asking what perfume you're wearing; that affix of "2" in the end sounds fake and ridiculous to me. I realise that copyrighting names isn't easy, but if anyone could, Guerlain is the one who could recycle hundreds of names from their rich archives to spare this embarrassment. Olfactorily, La Petite Robe Noire model 2 leaves something to be desired and I can't say it has won me over, although arguably it's rather easier and less tooth-achingly fruity-sweet than the previous first installment which scared me with its insolent intrusion into my personal space when I had placed a blotter atop my book on Minoan pottery I was consulting at the time.

To its detriment La Petite Robe Noire no. 2 still features the gimauve accord (that's the marshmallow "note"), this time garlanded by orange blossom and dusted with powdery-dry notes that are oscillating between face makeup and white suede. The opening of La Petite Robe Noire model 2, clean, scrubbed and bright, is still revealing a light gourmand character with a vanillic interlay that veers into almond nuances; but it's smoother, cuter and thankfully less berry-rich than the previous effort. The cuddly quality and the dry musky suede feel are not without some charm, better expressed on a blotter or fabric than on skin (Is this also an effort to grab the consumer into the first instances of testing?).

Still, these "hip" fragrant launches, destined by their shelf placement for the connoisseur circuit of people shopping for fragrance (and Guerlain fragrance at that!) at the eponymous boutiques or the Bergdorf Goodman "corner", pose a question: Why are they becoming a central focus requiring ample time off in-house Thierry Wasser's busy schedule instead of having these powers directed at working on a smashing new mainstream release or a beautiful classy exclusive instead (like Tonka Impériale before)? Unless teenager gamines shop regularly at the above mentioned places and are cognizant of the Guerlain brand apart from their makeup line and the Terracotta range (which still drives a huge percentage of the company sales), I'm at a loss to understand the positioning of those fragrances, just like I was perplexed by the romantic thinking behind Idylle as advertised on US soil.


Apparently Sylvaine Delacourte, art director chez Guerlain, says the first La Petite Robe Noire sold well and we do know from the US launch ahead that the American audience was (oddly?) targeted mainly: The latter isn't anything new, even as far back as Chanel No.5 and Coty's bestsellers America has been the greatest luxury devouring market on the planet and justifiably a marketer's wet dream. Often they underestimate that market.
Still La Petite Robe Noire and La Petite Robe Noire 2 occupy that middle ground that is hesitant between donning a full on couture gown for special occasions or just everyday wear with hip accents for that party and end up smelling like they don't know what they're doing, raising their cocktail glass like the nouveau rich amidst family guests at a chateau in the Loire valley.

The bottle, still in the iconic inverted heart design that houses Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue, is now reprised in dark rose and the black dress on it is strappy with a lacy hem; more like a negligee, really, but in good fun.

Notes for Guerlain La Petite Robe Noire no.2:
Head notes: Bergamot, Lemon, Galbanum
Heart notes: Orange Blossom, Marshmallow, Iris
Base notes: Leather, White Musk


bottle pic via placevendome.be

Which Type of Perfume Collector Are You?

Among the perfume aficionados set you will find several types: The "I follow only fragrances costing upper of 300$ a pop or hard-to-get niches launched only in Rovianemi"; the "I worship at the shrine of Trish-au-four and everything else is just dog crap stuck on his sole"; the "Give me a good thick unwearable woody emblazoned with oud on the label and I'm set"; the "I chuckle through my fine mustaches as I drive thousands of people to sample expensive things which I semi-loathe, but they're the newest thing and I have to try it out first, don't I".

There are other less aggressive or opinionated ~take your pick~ types as well; from the well meaning housewife who is now living vicariously through her perfume cabinet (brandishing Bandit here and unleashing Fracas there), hidden underneath the mementos of her children who flew the nest for worthwhile pursues of their own (who knows, they might in turn hide a perfume cabinet underneath their university dorm sink!) or the businessman who is hearing tirades on software all day long and relaxes at home with a good old glass of whiskey and a dab of vintage Vetiver on his dressing gown. There is the fashionista type who collects all the latest designer fragrances building a collection, which hard-edge members of specialized fora might sneer at, but who knows her Dolce The One from her Chanel Coco Mademoiselle down pat and can give you a mean advice or two on how to pick stuff for gifts. A subset of that one displays her wares proudly on her dresser, to the amazement of all her friends who ask "do you use all that stuff?" like a clueless person would ask a wine collector whether they drink all that stuff.

There is also the seasoned kind of perfume collector who has become a bit bored with one's self over the years, constantly weeding stuff from the fragrance wardrobe, but at the same time continuously lured in by novelties that promise to be the revolution of the industry in a bottle or by unmissable bargains on an old standby which -guess what- won't be available that much longer.

There is the eager novice who desires to partake of the holy sacraments with an urgency approaching that of hysteria, yet feels unworthy deep down, trying to manipulate himself into liking a revered fragrant beast like Mitsouko instead of vice versa.
There is even the mock perfumista who posts on discussion boards about acquisitions but in reality hasn't even opened one bottle of perfume, setting them on the side for profitable meta-selling when the drive for the elusive has reached improportionate heights. And surely, there are uncharted waters which I might have missed.

Which is YOUR type?


mini perfumes tray collection via 1950s Atomic Ranch House and of bottles collection via Through my Eyes Beauty

Puredistance Opardu: fragrance review & draw

I am doubtful as to whether an elegant yet lush floral with woody undertones is really reminiscent of the opulence of the 1920s and 1930s. Historically, I know these were years when florals were given the sheen of aldehydes, transposing them from worlds of flower beds into vistas of abstraction (Je Reviens by Worth, Chanel no.5, Bois des Iles), and big profuse chypres, often with decadent fruity notes (see the pineapple in Colony by Patou, the peach-skin in Mitsouko by Guerlain et al) or leathery scented accents (Cuir de Russie by Chanel, Scandal by Lanvin for instance), reigned supreme. In that sense Opardu, the latest fragrance by Puredistance, is rather incongruent, but it is delightful all the same in its own genre, much like all the fragrances in the line have proven so far: from the smooth bravado of M by Puredistance to the nostalgic femininity of Antonia, the compact line is well thought of, evidenced by the lack of continuous releases heaping up like an avalanche on us -much like it happens with some other niche lines that shall remain unnamed.

via http://osullivan60.blogspot.com

No, Puredistance makes an effort and as soon as the first transparent drops of the new elixir, Opardu, landed on my skin I knew that this was another quality fragrance from them. My only complaint? For a parfum concentration, it seems weaker, less lasting than the others. But don't let that stop you from trying for yourself.

The inspiration
The word 'OPARDU' is a creation of the owner and creative director of Puredistance: Jan Ewoud Vos. "When he came up with the word OPARDU he felt that this word had always been there, in a mysterious way... evocative and strangely familiar" the official story goes. I can't say it means anything specific to me, yet it does evoke leopards, bringing to mind Visconti's glorious and utterly romantic Il Gattopardo in mind.

"It took more than a year to further work out OPARDU. Central to the 'feeling' of OPARDU have been the expressive paintings of Kees van Dongen, in particular one of his illustrations for the book 'PARFUMS' by Paul Valéry, published in 1945 in a limited edition of 1000. (Jan Ewoud Vos is the owner of book no. 429)." [according to this info]

 The bouquet in the middle below is an illustration of Kees van Dongen

The perfumer

When Jan Ewoud Vos showed this illustration of Kees Van Dongen - a rich and lush bouquet of flowers - to Annie Buzantian, the famous Master Perfumer from New York, she instantly fell in love with it. The first word that came to her mind was 'Opulence'. She also felt this nostalgic feeling for the early years of the previous century; the golden age of perfumery. And then her work began. As a starting point Annie used a reinterpretation of a classic carnation she had already created which was safely stored in one of her 'secret' drawers.

How it Smells 

To my nose the dominating sensation is not of a classic carnation (those tended to be clove-spicy affairs, like in Caron's Poivre & Coup de Fouet), but rather of lilacs; pollen-dusted and with nectarous facets that mingle with a smidgen of green, transparent gardenia impression and a hint of powder and cedarwood. These lilacs are divested of their more melancholy, rained-upon ambience that En Passant by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti for Frederic Malle's perfume line has turned into a cult. That was a passing impression of walking under an umbrella in the early spring just catching a whiff of white lilacs in the distance from some stone and cement-walled garden afar. Here, in Opardu, the purple lilac is trembling under the morning sun and the white flower notes (not especially indolic, but not sanitized either) provide a tinge of honeyed sweetness. The wink of a bit of spice could be said to evoke a carnation interpretation, though I'm mostly struck by the inclusion of the non mentioned powdery soft and woody-earthy garland of ionones (rendering a violet note) and what I could liken to a hawthorn/mimosa note with a little muskiness. If you have always admired Vacances by Patou (1936) but have been frustrated by its rarity (now that even the 1980s reissue is discontinued for so long), Opardu can provide a good substitute.
This delicate bouquet in Opardu makes for a very feminine and subtle composition that is graceful rather than opulent and restrained in very good taste. I would have loved it to be a bit more maxed out for the opulent effect and for greater tenacity, but that's just me.

Notes for Opardu by Puredistance:
Main notes in Opardu as announced in time of writing are: carnation, tuberose absolute, jasmine absolute and gardenia with a background evoking the gentleness of romance through soft powdery notes. (All notes will be officially revealed in the first week of November, when I will update).

OPARDU will be available in a 17.5 ml. Perfume Spray and a 60 ml. Perfume Flacon as pure Perfume Extrait (32%) only, in November 2012. Available at select carriers.

A sample of the as yet unreleased Opardu parfum will be given to a lucky reader who comments on this post. Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight. Draw is now closed, thank you!

 Music: Φεύγω (i.e.I'm leaving...all those years I'm leaving) by Greek songwriter Orpheas Pieridis, adapted here & sung by Dionyssis Savvopoulos.

In the interests of full disclosure I was sent a sample for consideration.

Guerlain Mon Precieux Nectar: another new fragrance

A very limited edition is coming out of Guerlain's Boutique for serious collectors with a matching price-tag to rival everything we have been expecting. In times of recession there's nothing like some throwing caution to the wind, it seems!
Mon Précieux Nectar, is a super exclusive boutique offering in Extrait de Parfum concentration. "For the woman who relishes being unique and strives to set the trends instead of following them, Guerlain has created an extremely limited fragrance offering appropriately titled Mon Précieux Nectar. Only sixty two women in the world will be privileged to wear this scent, all but ensuring the wearers will never cross paths. Available as one full liter of perfume, the fragrance is floral and gourmand with a head of petitgrain and bitter almond, jasmine and orange blossom at the heart and a base of sensual woods, incense, vanilla and white musk". The mouth-watering and addictive fragrance comes in La Fontaine Impériale (imperial fountain), a hand-made crystal fountain with a silver-plated refillable atomizer that will be offered in a black leather box for the customer's convenience. Created by Sylvaine Dealcourte and Randa Hammami who had worked again with Guerlain on Cruel Gardénia. 1 L pure Parfum at the retail price of $9,000 or 6000 €, circulating in numbered bottles exclusively at Guerlain boutiques. (contradicting information talks about 100 numbered bottles ~this reminds me of something, but my tongue is tied)

At any rate, compared, Caron Baccarat "urns" seem like a steal...

Other upcoming Guerlain releases for the season (click the links for more info):
La Petite Robe Noire (out now)
Insolence Eau Glacée
Fleurs de Shalimar and Eau de Shalimar
Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus
Aqua Allegoria Mimosa-Tiaré and Aqua Allegoria Cherry Blossom
Terracotta Eau Sous Le Vent (also based on tiaré, the tropical Tahitian gardenia strung in leis)
Habit Rouge Sport



News & Pic courtesy of Sniffapalooza and mr.Guerlain collector via Basenotes

Guerlain 180 Ans de Creations: fragrance review & history

Back in the 19th century, when the beginnings of the Guerlain brand are to be traced, perfume was considered racy; proper ladies stuck to barely there floral eaux and no one put scent on themselves, but rather on items of clothing. Tracing Guerlain's 180 Ans de Créations fragrance to these beliefs is like a porthole of what made Guerlain revolutionary and great in the first place but also a palingenesis. Its powdery, polished amber character is emotively majestic; and yet it wafts with grace and good manners, making us lament the days when luxury was considered a notion that pertained more to style and connoiseurship than affluent cash bying the latest "it" collectible just because.

180 Ans de Créations was issued to commemorate the 180 years of Guerlain history and revealed in June 2008 as a non-commercial gift aimed at loyal customers and industry insiders, hence its spartan baptism "180 Ans de Création 1828-2008". I was grateful to receive some via a discernible reader of mine, Emmanuella, who procured it through a French connection and was eager to hear my thoughts on it. (Sincere thanks to both are in order).

Casting back our minds to how Guerlain came into being offers glimpses into how the recapitulation of such heritage could be accomplished. The history of the house of Guerlain is richly nuanced, from the "Parfumeur Vinaigrier" days of Pierre-François-Pascal Guerlain at 42 rue de Rivoli in 1828 to the move into not one but two locations on rue de la Paix in 1840. The first big break came with a commission from the novelist Balzac, a person very immersed in sensual exploration himself. Later Pierre-François-Pascal scented the pages of Le Journal des Elégances as well, thus catapulting a custom consultation for the most recognisable personalities of the times: the Prince of Wales, Queen Victoria, the Tsar of Russia and notably Napoleon’s III wife Empress Eugénie de Montijo. Guerlain dedicated the citrusy-smelling verbena-rich Eau de Cologne Impériale to her (1853), composed with the aid of his sons Gabriel and Aimé (the latter his creative heir in 1864 and the composer of Jicky in 1889). He took pains to decorate the flacon with golden Napoleonic bees and thus started a delightful optical tradition, hints of which we can admire even today. In 1914 the opening of the boutique at Champs Elysées kickstarted the unfolding of a saga that persists.

Presented in Eau de Parfum concentration, the idea of Guerlain's 180 Ans de Création is a stripped-down representation of La Guerlinade, the famous accord that makes fragrances instantly recognised as Guerlain progeny. For 180 Ans its perfumer Jean Paul Guerlain twisted the idea of the classic accord, realising its aura is often perceived as admirable but a little outdated and thus added contemporary accents in the form of grapefruit, pink pepper and white musk. The choices weren't random, far from it: the bitterness of grapefuit is a work of marvel in Pamplelune, the most technically merited in the modern Aqua Allegoria line; the spiciness of pink pepper along with its surprising creamy quality (thanks to α-cadinol) is complimentary to the powdery feel of retro scents; the skin-like emission of musks is contemporary and lifting the powder into the realm of familiarity for audiences raised on home products laced with synthesized musks. Yes, 180 Ans is a calculated scent that hits just the right spot!

Starting with a shadowy feel of amber gloved in suede ~masterfully accented with a slight bitterness via grapefruit and possibly thyme to my nose~ Guerlain's 180 Ans de Creations encompasses the very characteristic bergamot-heliotropin-vanilla chord of many Guerlain edible scents without being sweet, as well as an inkish peach-pit almondy shade which reminds me of both Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue. An allusion to the oppoponax-vanilla powderiness of Shalimar is finishing it off on a intimate base of musks and the coumarin delight that tonka beans provide so generously to numerous Guerlain creations. Neither supremely feminine, nor typically masculine, its caliginous amber can be likened to the series of fragrances that reworked the original Mathilde Laurent Guet Apens scent: Attrape Coeur, No.68 limited edition, Vol de Nuit Evasion. Nevertheless it is overall less ambery, with no discernable violets as in Attrape Coeur and it projects with more discretion. 180 Ans also possesses a mysteriously twilight chill beneath the warmth, contrasting with it and enhancing its dry powder (an effect of synth musks and dry woody aromachemicals?) which fascinates me. The thing most evoked in far drydown is the suede plush of vintage Shalimar (a hint of quinolines) and the cool powder of Habit Rouge: lovers of the later please take note!

If Guerlain after their LVMH acquisition seem to have drunk from the river Lethe losing memories of their past lives in the process, there are still some signs like 180 Ans which give me hope of a Pythagorian transmigration of the soul. After all Pythagoras didn't occypy himself with counting numbers only, despite what everyone says...

180 Ans de Créations is offered in the oblong flacon that houses L'Art et La Matiere and Elixirs Charnels, with the name placed on a thin metal plate that runs vertically from top to bottom on the front. It is still currently in production according to records as we speak, although cryptic enough to only procure one (from someone who got it last year obviously). I hope that changes soon!

Related reading on Perfumeshrine: Guerlain series

Pic of bottle via Mr.Guerlain and vintage poster via tallulah-album/photobucket