At the Moment

Though the time for lists is withheld for next week, counting down the minutes to the New Year, I sat and mentally checked all the things which are brightening these few days of rest and play. Enjoy and share yours with me as well. I'd love to read them when everyone is asleep and place is quiet.

Perfuming
This Christmas I'm scenting my home with the Silver Gems candle by Acqua di Parma: the spicy oriental fragrance is a complex melange of bergamot, orange, davana, plum, amber, vanilla, patchouli and cedarwood. It's scrumptious!
I'm also bringing out the sumptuous Guerlain perfumes, such as Attrape Coeur and Vol de Nuit, and of course my vintage Caron's Nuit de Noel (Christmas Eve, how appropriate). If not now, then when?

Reading
Just started Gillian Flynn's Sharp Objects and re-reading Philosophy in the Boudoir, even though contrary to the Marquis' advice I have no daughter. I have put this little tome by Randall Munroe and Society of the Spectacle on my wish list in the meantime for January.

Traditional folk carols from Thrace, sung above in the clip by Chronis Aidonidis

Listening
To Chopin's Etudes as interpreted by Pollini, one of my favorite pianists. And Greek Christmas carols, naturally.


Watching
Reruns of Frozen. It's a favorite in our house, what can I say! On a more personal level, not a very festive choice, but I'm catching up (belatedly, I know) House of Cards. And have tucked the original UK series for comparison's sake in my stocking...

Cooking
I have posted in the past several festive and wintery recipes I like to make, from Pork Care with Dried Apricots and Prunes to the classic Italian Pannetone all the way through Making Your Own Rich Vanilla Extract. And of course the iconic Greek melomakarona honey cookies! Apart from the latter calorie-bombs (which have already been consumed in our house, I'm afraid!), this year I am making Rice Pilaf with Pine Nuts, Chestnuts and Sultana Raisins. It's very tasty, goes well with any meat course and is super easy to make: you just simmer the nuts and fruit in a spoonful of olive oil in a big pot for 4 minutes, then add the raw rice and as much water as required, plus salt to taste.
Bon appetit!

Wearing
This is my party dress. The fitted bodice and pleated skirt make it easy to navigate, the boat neck is great to show off my citrine and gold chandellier earrings, above (apparently so now!).

Makeup
I have said it before, I will say it again. The Transatlantique Collection 2014 by Dior hid a precious gem. Well, it didn't exactly hid it, it was in plain sight amidst the other more "pedestrian" color choices, but still the limited edition detail bugged me enough to delay in getting the coveted item. Mayday #651 lipstick is a g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s red with a raspberry undertone which should fit any skin with a hint of pink or neutral undertones. My go-to choice for Christmas day! And if you want to match perfume to your lipstick, here are some ideas.


Please share in the comments what you're doing these days. 
And don't forget to check back tomorrow for the winner(s) of the grand prize by Tijon! (There's still time to enter a story on this link, if you haven't yet, to be eligible).
We will be having the year's roundup Best next Monday.

Classified Ads: Reader Swaps Amouage Candles. Takers?

A dear reader of mine wants to swap some Amouage candles she has got (but never lit), preferably for vintage Guerlain Mitsouko or Caron Bellodgia perfume or alternatively "for something pretty and happy", as she specified.
The candles are in their original packaging and are unlit: Amouage Oriental Oud and Divine Oud are both intact in their original sealing, Eternal Oud has been opened only to be sniffed.
These are perfect for the holiday season. Preferably US shipping.

These are a $90 retail value each. Anyone who thinks they have something swappable for these, please comment below stating what you have to offer, so she can read, and watch this space for her pick/comments so she can eventually contact you through email.

Bullshitting the Bullshitter? Chanel Damage Control Over Lidl Fragrance Smell-Alike Sounds Skewed

I'm not a usual reader of the DailyMail.co.uk, but when the title "Yes, a £4 bottle of Lidl perfume CAN smell as good as Chanel: But be warned -it could wear off in half an hour" sneaked into my inbox, I just had to look at said article. And look I did and I have a truckload of rant on the sketchy argumentation trying to manipulate the consumer yet again on the part of the industry. There's a stink raised, so your faithful bloodhound got going.

Just two days ago I too had read the Independent.co.uk article titled "Revealed: Lidl's £4 perfume smells identical to Chanel's £70 scent -but the difference is in the bottle" after all. It  reiterated what money-saving expert Martin Lewis said in an interview with Radio Times (and which I already knew myself from experience), namely that the German supermarket Lidl's own brand fragrance Suddenly Madame Glamour (which costs £4, I kid you not, for 50ml/1.7oz in a pretty decent if plain packaging) smells the same as Chanel's Coco Mademoiselle which retails for £70. 
Yup, 15 times costlier, you read this right.

Vanessa Musson has written a detailed side-by-side review ages ago on just this and myself I had included Madame Glamour in Best Inexpensive Fragrances back in 2011. So the immediate response with caveat emptor about the longevity of Lidl's perfume smells of desperate damage control and at points it sounds like people in the field are embarrassing themselves.

With apparently close to 85% of women admitting they would occasionally buy a supermarket version of a fragrance for themselves -if they really thought it smelt the same- the reason for this isn't very hard to see. In fact according to data within the Daily Mail article, the Perfumer's Guild conducted a blind test in which 90% of women actually preferred the scent of the Lidl perfume over the Chanel!

The question whether luxury items differ from much more economic products in similar vein is the packaging, advertising and marketing costs behind it has been already explained only too well in industry's whistle-blowing worthy books by Chandler Burr, the former New York Times scent critic.
If you have missed the breakdown of a cost of fragrance, I urge you to read this old eye-opening article which explains how 100gr of eau de toilette perfume costs only 1.5 dollars to produce!

The tangent then becomes "will they [cheap perfumes] last as long -or vanish, or go off- after half an hour on your skin?"

So, now, let's dissect the arguments against the Lidl fragrance and for the Chanel and see if they hold any water. I'll be quoting from the article in red and presenting my own argumentation right below it in black.

"The main ingredient of all perfume is alcohol (anything up to 90 per cent), meaning that it is the remaining ingredients, labelled ‘parfum’ on the box, which make all the difference.Traditionally, the more expensive scents are those with the highest concentration of this parfum, meaning that an eau de toilette (4-10 per cent concentration) costs significantly less than eau de parfum (8-15 per cent) or pure parfum (15-25 per cent)." 

Correct and therefore it's only fair we should be comparing two similar concentrations: since Lidl's scent comes in only eau de parfum, since Chanel's comes in all three (eau de toilette, eau de parfum and extrait de parfum), we should focus on comparing Lidl eau de parfum against Chanel eau de parfum.

‘One of the main ingredients used in Chanel perfume is natural rose essence, which is one of the most expensive ingredients in the world. It is like gold,’ says Lawrence Roullier White, who runs an artisan perfumery in London.‘Petals do not give out much oil, so you have to distill tons of petals to get any rose oil, which all adds to the cost.‘One bottle of the Chanel perfume contains 1,000 jasmine flowers.‘These flowers, which are grown especially for the brand in Grasse on the French Riviera, are picked by hand and only at night to capture their full aroma.’The cost involved in producing such luxurious essential oils is huge.For example, to make just half a kilogram (1lb) of jasmine oil, 3.6 million flowers are needed at a cost of almost £3,000. Other ingredients in Coco Mademoiselle (named after Chanel fashion house founder Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel) include iris flowers from Florence, Sicilian oranges, French roses and essence from the rind of the citrus fruit bergamot, grown in the Italian region of Calabria."

False on many levels. First of all, all these precious ingredients do not necessarily enter into the eau de parfum (much less eau de toilette) edition, but only (if at all) in the extrait de parfum which is not the thing you regularly see on the department store counter. Chanel does admit to using the Grasse grown jasmine, rose and tuberose only in the extrait when talking about their iconic No.5. But furthermore the ratio of those is so low, that even the allergens regulations threshold (which had raised a furore back in 2008 as threatening to damage Chanel No.5) isn't met! And we're talking about the 0.7% threshold for Jasmine grandiflorum (that's the Grasse varity) in the finished compound, which is already -as per above- only aproximately 10% of the eau de parfum!!!
Then again Chanel has always relied on expounding their "precious ingredients lore".
Besides the bergamot even in the famed Shalimar by Guerlain (nestling its allure on the bergamot top note) is synthetically produced for many years now.

 Then mr.Laurence Roullier White, who runs an artisan perfume store in London (also distributing Caron, Marc Buxton, Farmacia SS.Annunziata, Parfums d'Orsay, Slumberhouse etc.) goes on record with some rather embarrassing, even butt-clenching if I say so myself, stuff.

‘At the end of the day, you get what you pay for,’ adds Mr Roullier White. ‘You cannot expect a £4 bottle of perfume to be the same as a £70 one. 

We have already proven above that fragrance costs very little to actually produce. Visit the eye-opening link mentioned above.

‘For £4, the essential oils will be completely synthetic. ‘Perfumes which are not made from natural essential oils do not last on the skin. 'Those which are, react to the body’s individual chemistry and can transform over time, becoming more floral or musky for example. For £4, you’d be lucky if it lasts half an hour.’ 

Talk about confused. Essential oil is a very specific term and denotes "nature derived". Therefore cannot be synthetic. Surprised mr.Roullier White works in perfume and conflates the two terms. He clearly means "the aromatic ingredients will be completely synthetic".  But as a niche distributor, surely he knows synthetics are often mentioned in niche fragrances official press (!?)

He furthermore undermines himself since every hardcore perfume lover knows that most all-natural perfumes are exactly criticized for their short-lived duration on the skin, while synthetically man-made essences have giga-lasting-power. This is after all one of the main reasons they're used so much! You can read about Iso-E-Super, Ambrox/Ambroxan and synthetic musks on the respective links and enlighten yourself, if you have missed them, and this is only the tip of the iceberg. Besides their longevity, synthetics are wildly used for reasons of stability and unchangeability: they ensure a steady  product that doesn't fluctuate risking to alienate its faithful customer.

For the record, Lidl's Madame Glamour eau de parfum lasts a solid 3 hours on my own skin and several more on clothes.

Mr Rouiller White adds: ‘Some of the £70 you pay for Coco Mademoiselle factors in Chanel’s packaging and marketing, but there is no comparison between natural and manufactured essential oils.’ 

He is apparently continuing with the "manufactured essential oils" [sic] confusion. I do hope it's a misquote. And I suppose it was about time he admitted the pay check paid to Keira Knightly and all the people working with her, as depicted above.

The article then states "At times, the bottle may be even worth more than the scent inside, such as with limited-edition bottles of Clive Christian’s Imperial Majesty, which comes in Baccarat crystal with solid, 18-carat gold and white diamonds and which costs £115,000."

It sorta shoots its argument on the foot. If the juice inside is, as per Chandler Burr's breakdown, less than $1.5 then ANY packaging s automatically worth more than the scent inside, I would presume!

Unsurprisingly, many perfume makers are reluctant to reveal whether their product is made from natural perfume oils or synthetic chemicals imitating the real thing. 

There we go again: Natural is good, man-made is bad. Long-time readers know this is highly more complex than that and that in my view it all depends on the context and aesthetics. What initially made an impression, based on having tested both Madame Glamour and Coco Mademoiselle extensively and relying on my life-long experience and *cough cough* knowledge, gained alarming dimensions upon seeing that Chanel is directly "threatened" by the success of the lowly Lidl chain's perfumes and others (such as M&S Autograph line). 

Obviously not because the regular Chanel client will start buying Lidl fragrances, but because the aspiring Chanel user can do just as well without anybody being the wiser.

But the mere implication that a luxury perfume is better because its ingredients cost more, being of better quality, is skewed. If fragrance is an art form, as many of the advocates of posh perfume claim, then would you criticize a painting's worth on the cost of the paints it uses? Exclude imaginative creativity and visionary ability? To do so would be to automatically reduce it to a craft.  It's demeaning and uninformed.

You needn't feel like a fool buying Chanel fragrance (or any luxury perfume) from now on. As long as your choice is informed and you know what you're paying for, which in many cases is mostly the image you're buying into (and that's an art form too), it's an indulgence you can indulge in and it's YOURS to claim. Everything else is bullshit and should be called out on. 

The thing is, anyone can commission a gas chromatograph test (a test which reveals all the ingredients & their ratio in the composition of any given fragrance) and compare the two fragrances' "blueprint" side by side. It only costs around 100$, so if you're determined, you can do it.

A parting shot: Lidl makes excellent lipsticks in beautiful colors and lovely texture and longevity. They retail at 2 euros (!) locally. They only get imported & distributed once in a blue moon. The average Maybelline or L'Oreal lipstick costs no less than 12 euros locally. I leave you to draw your own conclusions regarding why this erratic distribution pattern...

If after all this my post disappears without my desire or consent (things like that have happened in the blogosphere before) then you know what I said is the absolute truth and someone is scared for their fugitive profit margins. In any case, this is your food for thought, assuming Thanksgiving hasn't totally knocked you out (which is just as good and I hope you had a great time!)

Summer 2014: The perfumes I wore the most

I was questioning myself what I have worn most during this crazy summer and why. The tallying up was funny, in an anal retentive way, since making a list before a certain arbitrarily set period of time has come to a close can only be explained by the need to put method to one's madness. But if you're following these pages, you might be just as mad yourself (mad about sensual pleasures, about analyzing patterns and Lacanian subtexts and about lists too), so it might not be too boring to share I hope.

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Please share what you have worn yourselves so far this summer in the comments, as it makes for very interesting reading during my weekend when I'll be by the seashore at a small fishing village no busier than applying Bain de Soleil sunscreens, Mayday by Dior on my lips and Phytoplage conditioner on my hair.

So here you are, my most worn scents summer 2014:

YSL Opium EDT vintage ~because old loves die hard.

Hermes Un Jardin sur le Nil ~ because choosing a fragrance when it's 38C outside is a tall order, one needs something that works for sure.

Neela Vermeira Mohur EDP~there is something about this rosy gourmand musky marvel which keeps me hooked. There is both an eau de parfum (delicious and very wearable) and a diva-like Mohur extrait de parfum version. If you've been scared of roses due to ebullient ones like Paris by YSL or by old-fashioned ones like Tea Rose (Perfumer's Workshop), give Mohur a must try!

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Caron Alpona ~the citrus element keeps it from becoming too dense, the inherent Caron "weirdness" (said in the best possible way) is perfect  when everyone else is in Light Blue by D&G or Aqua di Gioia by Armani.

Shiseido Koto EDC ~one needs something green and mossy without going too green and mossy.

Piguet Bandit EDP ~nothing speaks of too green and mossy like this one. Right when it's sweltering hot and sweaty it performs the best! Very sexy too in a totally unconventional way.

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Tom Ford Neroli Portofino ~latest craze for days when I want to emulate the Ligurian lifestyle, this captures it perfectly. Perfect with a navy striped matellot blouse, drawstring flowing pants and a traditional men's straw hat!

Chanel Antaeus EDT ~ever since receiving a lavish compliment from my man (and a wink in his eye) on this masculine cologne, I have come to rely on it for adventurous nights and promising getaways. Should be keeping company to Yatagan (Caron) and Kouros (YSL) on the shelf for the sexiest androgynous perfume options.

I realize these are mostly "oldies", which isn't meant to imply I didn't discover new things which took my fancy (I did, just look for my Aedes Oeillet Bengale and Serge Lutens L'Orpheline reviews in the posts). But, you see, I haven't yet bought anything more than a decant of the newer stuff, so they should probably be in the autumn list, as soon as the time rolls; à tout à l'heure!

Come on, tell me the things that made you click this summer!

Aedes de Venustas Oeillet Bengale: fragrance review

If like me you have been searching for a Catherine Earnshaw kind of fragrance all your life, then the options haven't always been that populous. Sure, there are some wild perfumes out there but they either (deliciously) run butch or raunchy (Bandit or Tabu), extremely sophisticated (Tabac Blond, Poivre, Coup de Fouet) or possessing that kind of French veneer that makes the Versailles what they are and not a rough stone house on the moors (YSL Opium, Coco de Chanel). I'm extremely surprised and overjoyed to find out that Oeillet Bengale, the third fragrance by Aedes de Venustas (the famous niche perfume boutique in NYC) is a Catherine-Earnshaw-by-way-of-India and that's mighty fine by me; this feral thing is so beguiling, one can forgive it a wandering spirit, even beyond the grave.

Oeillet Bengale like its namesake (the Bengal tiger) conjures the vision of a wild, fiery, untamed thing, oozing feline sex appeal and the sort of charm which keeps you on your toes rather than winning you over with an easy smile and pleading puppy eyes. It also conjures the temples of India, garlanded by flowers and smoky with woody-smelling incense, a sort of Kipling novela written in the register of smells.

Oeillet Bengale by Aedes de Venustas boldly goes where modern niche carnation fragrances go, that is more Vitriol d'Oeillet (Lutens) than Bellodgia (Caron). The spicy component, fresh and dark, like an electric storm in a land of immense skylines that go on forever, lends it well into night wear, while the combination of resinous smells and floral notes gives it a Queen of Sheba via a modern sort of vibe. This is a wonderful fragrance for either men or women who exude sophistication (or aim at doing so!) because the smoky pepperiness—with its incense-y ambience—doesn't lend itself to cooing over the latest chick lit volume. If you are the type to go gaga over Hello Kitty items (and not just out of childhood nostalgia) Oeillet Bengale will leave you cold. If you're a fan of spacious, yet richly nuanced, woody fragrances with a prominent spicy component (sans the expected Indian curry food notes!) and the growl of smooth and carnal labdanum, then the feral Oeillet Bengale is your thing.

In fact, if I were to sum it up, I'd say that the chord of pepper-clove-labdanum-incense is the "soul" of Oeillet Bengale, a smoky carnation for fiery spirits.

Composed by Rodrigo Flores-Roux, Oeillet Bengale by Aedes de Venustas includes top notes of turmeric, cinnamon, black pepper, cardamom, cloves and saffron; middle notes of rose, white pepper, strawberry and floral notes; and base notes of vanilla, tolu balsam, benzoin and labdanum.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Spicy Floral fragrances reviews,
Carnation in perfumes: the clove-scented buds of La Belle Epoque

Tauer Perfumes Eau d'Epices: fragrance review

Eau d'Épices is an interesting study in how to make a non-typical "oriental" or "woody" spice which would float rather than sink. Does it succeed? You'll be the judge as this month sees the reissue of Eau d'Épices. Eau d'Épices has been in the works since at least 2007, you see, when the first samples were given to a coterie of Tauer fans. The official launch happened in 2010 and then the scent was discontinued, to be reissued now.

via pinterest

Those who remember the soap Mandarins Ambrés that Tauer issued during the countdown to Christmas will recall the chord of labdanum-laced tartness that remained on the skin for a long time. The cleverness lies in that this classically oriental chord is buttressed in the fragrance Eau d'Épices by an allusion to soap which brings us full circle to the creative process chez Tauer: the core of this "spice water" is made of orange blossom absolute which via its cleaner facets and the indirect use of orange blossom (as well as its greener, fresher analogue, neroli) in time-honored Eaux de Cologne brings to mind the sense of freshness and purity via association.

Tauer loves his orange blossom (and if you're following his line you know that) and this is a natural essence he obtains alongside the Egyptian jasmine material he uses. Some tart notes emerge in the evaporation, a feeling of bitter-fresh grapefruit (not listed) or something like lemony verbena or lemongrass (also non listed), but the overall feeling of this core is buttery to me and this increases as the fragrance prolongs its visit.

But that is not all. There are two other dominant forces in Eau d'Épices.

One is the evident one: the "indian basket of spices" as Andy puts it —which would make phobics of impolite bodily smells scour the list for cumin, the essence which is routinely blamed for a sweat and body odor note; let me here take the opportunity to clear this fear, this perfume won't produce questions about your state of cleanliness. It is a full on spice-fest at the start (lots of IFRA-defiant cinnamon, orange blossom complementing coriander, clove and clove), but that evolves very soon and I can see how the expectation of a typical spicy oriental would let fans of the genre conditioned to expect Caron's Poivre or Coco by Chanel somewhat down. Eau d'Épices, aka "Spice Water," doesn't distance itself from the tradition of "cologne," something meant to be splashed to impart a sense of exhilaration but done in a new way, a way of spices instead of herbs.

The other undercurrent (and it is a very prominent one) is the incense-y chord that Tauer loves so much. It's an interlay of resinous-smelling/amber notes of which ambreine and ambroxan are constants. Maybe it's the hippyish vibe, maybe it's the traveling bug, these notes bring on a sense of far away lands, away from our modernized antiseptic environments.

Eau d'Épices: back on the Tauer website. As love it or hate it as spices themselves.

Guerlain Chypre 53: fragrance review & history

Some perfumes, like the best kept mysteries, keep their secrets close at heart and do not intend to be easily deciphered. That's part of their charm. Chypre 53 by Guerlain is the latest in this row of scented mysteries and I will try to break down its coding today with Chabollion determination, but non conclusive results. Let's call it the Linear A of Guerlain. :-)

via mbymystery.blogspot.com

My research indicates that there are actually two formulae of the elusive Chypre 53 and it would depend on which edition one gets hold of. The original Guerlain Chypre 53 was issued in 1909 in the standard quadrilobe extrait bottle with the phallic cap, holding 30ml, which we have come to associate with Guerlain extraits in general. The perfume was soon discontinued leaving more commercially successful Guerlain fragrances such as Mitsouko, Shalimar, Vol de Nuit or L'Heure Bleue in the limelight while it retreated in the shade of the archives. The year 1948 saw a re-issue of the Guerlain fragrance. The concentration of eau de cologne was opted for Chypre 53 and indeed "flacons montre" (the familiar round disk bottles with the gold pyramidal stopper which routinely hold the eau de cologne version of Guerlain fragrances) hold the splash edition of the more effervescent take.

via Pinterest

Besides those two types of bottles, there is also the amphora extrait bottle and the "goutte" (which means drop or bead in French) bottle for the eau de toilette concentration of Guerlain Chypre 53. The amphora and goutte bottles, as well as the montre one, were circulating well into the 1950s, according to the Guerlain archives. There also seems to exist a Lotion Vegetale which was intended as a grooming product, canonical to Guerlain standards of providing scented exhilaration while preparing one's hair and skin. [a collective imaging of the various bottles can be found here]

The providence of my review sample is a collector, a serious and well intentioned one, who was generous enough to share with me and request my opinion. Unfortunately I do not know the providence of the juice, though I assume it comes from some online auction where the rare fragrance makes a sporadic appearance. Exactly because the origin and authenticity of the fragrance is something that cannot be guaranteed, the exercise is tentative at best, colored by a highly subjective impression at worst.

via Photobucket/bbBD

What strikes me in my edition of Guerlain Chypre 53 is the inkiness and leatheriness of the acrid note coming from the depth of the perfume, indicating the use of isoquinolines plus oakmoss. The skeleton of the chypre fragrance dictates the use of the latter, so this is no surprise. Considering that the 1948 edition of Chypre 53 comes one year after the launch of Piguet's Bandit with its butch, described as "for dykes"ambience, the inclusion of the former isn't far fetched at all either. Although Chypre 53 was intended by Guerlain to be a feminine fragrance my olfactory appreciation informs me that men could wear it very convincingly as well. The boldness however is gentler and less bitter green than Bandit, with richer elements of spices (carnation) and Provencal herbs (thyme mainly) that bring it close in feel to both Caron Tabac Blond from 1917 (with its distinctive carnation leather) and Chanel's Cuir de Russie  from 1924 (with the same carnation, the spiciness of styrax and the background of a refined animality comprising clary sage, new car upholstery and precious flowers). This mental tie can be explained by sampling the 1948 edition but not the 1909 one, therefore my understanding is that I am experiencing the later one.

The overall feeling is dry but also warm, with a rustic touch, savoury sweet at various instants and with the cinnamic-eugenol facets I mentioned before. This carnation-leather combo is perplexing, as it's so indicative of the 1920s (where these garconnne leathers reigned supreme as well as carnation florals like Caron's Bellodgia), which is unsettling considering the chronology of either edition, additionally the opening seems like a different segment with the vetiver being more prominent.

Like all Guerlain perfumes of vintage cut there's a lot to recommend testing it out on your own skin, although it would be perhaps counterintuitive to pay through the nose for an old Chypre 53 specimen, unless you happen to land on a very lucky incident of value for money, an exceedingly rare sight in the world of online auctions. Having provided this caveat emptor, I'm very happy that I managed to round up my perfume knowledge of rare, historical Guerlain perfumes, from Atuana and Fleur de Feu to Loin de Tout and Guerlain Cuir de Russie through Coque d'Or and Djedi. Now that Chypre 53 has joined the ranks, my appreciation of la maison Guerlain has gained one more shade of the rainbow.
Maybe now that Guerlain is re-issuing the parfums de patrimoine (heritage perfumes from their archives, for exhibition purposes only), Chypre 53 is a good addition to the collection that is just waiting to happen ;)
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On Vintage Stuff and the Polemics of Truth

It came to my attention that my article on Vintages on the mega perfume site has created much controversy. That's a good thing! It was written with a view of being controversial in the first place. I outright stated it from the get go that that was expected and in fact desirable. Still, there is some misunderstanding of the aim and the construction behind it and I feel like a couple of things need clarifying.

The core confusion seems to be that I have had a change of heart. That I loved vintages, reviewed them lovingly and somehow that's kaput. One commentator went as far as saying "The Perfume Shrine is bar-none the best resource for information on vintage perfumes available on the internet. Her vintage reviews are favorable and spot-on" continuing by saying that therefore the contrarian view therein is confusing. Well, thank you very much, and maybe there is a reason behind this accolade. Maybe it's because I double, triple, quadruple-check things. And people who do that often come across -shall we say- interesting discrepancies; I'm not alone.

Still, the question remains: have I lost my love of historical fragrances? No, actually that's not the case at all. In fact I intend to continue to review and smell vintage perfumes, just not pay crazy prices on them.

Indeed because I have been a huge collector (of vintage perfumes and otherwise) I have had a sort of epiphany lately. Lots of things I have amassed have ceased to be as they were the moment I had first bought them; not necessarily going bad always, but not what I had loved at that moment in time. This isn't going by memory alone, as many perfume lovers staked memory as the main argument into collecting vintages: "because they continue to smell as we remember them". No, I'm not going just on memory. I was actually keeping notes on them, very studiously too, with very specific attributes, marking this or that component and this or that twist; comparing and contrasting the notes with what I smell now I find that some of the attributes have changed. Some of these perfumes have been tossed because of this. Especially whatever was bought in decant form or air-seeping containers. (The suggestion on buying "nips" by one collector is -I concur- a good one). This is a valuable lesson to wear and enjoy what you have, for seasoned as much as for new collectors. Especially coming on the heels of the unfortunate demise of a huge and much loved in the perfume community collector, dear Linda. I didn't want to mention this in the article, it felt too personal for such a huge site, but this unfortunate event was a wake up call. The fact that her massive, beloved collection is being sold by relatives in an attempt to collect money for her children leaves me with mixed feelings. No matter how lovingly one keeps their collection, when one dies it's especially sad to see that a life's accumulation can't always be appreciated for what it was intended to be. That's point number 1.

Point number 2 is that apparently vintage collectors felt offended as if I had implied -through industry professionals' quotes- that they are not savvy. No, actually that's not true. I specifically mentioned that "people aren't that stupid" and that they can discern whether something has turned and has become dreck. It's the other nuances which are harder to pinpoint (authenticity to original formula, nuances between years and batches) and that goes for me too and any expert on the planet. A perfume, even from the same bottle, even from the same batch, is never the same twice. Octavian Coiffan had said it in his own erudite style too before closing his blog. Like Heraclitus said "you can't cross the same river twice". It's the transience of perfume that is accountable for that.

Besides, what constitutes "vintage", a term taken from wine? Vintage refers to specific year and perfumes do not have a date stamped on them, so what one refers to as vintage Miss Dior might be 1950s stuff and another's vintage might be 1970s stuff; two very different things! Unless we're 100% specific and unless we know EXACTLY when our bottle was produced we can't really talk about the same thing (and going by the packaging is not enough, because the professional I quote has seen with his very eyes that brands take left-over caps or boxes from one batch and use them for a later perfume batch as if nothing intervened.)

To revert to the feelings of collectors which have been ruffled: Even though once one has spent thousands of dollars on what they initially considered an investment or an art lesson it's hard to admit some error, the risk is totally legit. And should continue to be legit, something which the ridiculous hike on vintage perfume prices has rendered semi-impossible at the moment. (Not that I don't chastise the niche industry for their equally ridiculous prices as well from time to time and if you've been reading here you know it). Not a day passes by when I don't receive in my inbox some inquiry or other that goes along the lines "I have found X perfume at the back of my grandma's/aunt's/deceased relative's closet, how much is it worth?" It's a question that is impossible to answer straight for various reasons. Therefore my reply (after trying to offer some practical tips) invariably boils down to "as much as the market will bear". Because, I don't really know. People buy things that are claimed to be great and they buy them in whatever condition because they're a "MUST TRY" right and left. Whether they're then disappointed is a moot point, as the discussion following the purchase, much like a refutation in a tabloid paper, is written in small print. There is a public service hiding someplace rather than condescension when one says "hey, maybe it's not worth taking the risk unless the price is quite low, you know". This isn't such a bad reminder for very experienced players either, come to think of it. The other day someone had on offer an original Guerlain Parure "wave" design extrait bottle asking for thousands of dollars. Yes, Parure is fabulous and it keeps rather well too, oddly enough, but the price is more than ridiculous; it's scourging. We need to say it. I consider it a duty as a writer whose work is read by people budding into the hobby; not everyone is an old timer and "newbies" shouldn't be shunned in this vintage snobbery.

Some people felt offended all the same. What is easily forgotten is it is impossible to know exactly how something originally intended to smell, unless you have been to the Osmotheque, have compared the freshly made reconstitutions of vintage formulae with the vintage juice you have purchased from someone and ~assuming that this is even possible, since even the Osmotheque doesn't reconstitute everything under the sun~ you can speak with some certainty. Most of the time you can only get an idea. An idea is good enough compared to nothing and I know that very well. But it's just that: an idea and it's important to stress this when talking about something, even in the more formal context of a review. Much like classical antiquity isn't all white like we're accustomed to see in museums and idealized through the eyes of the 19th century ~I bet most of us we'd get a heart attack to see the vibrancy of color actually painted on classical statues (yes, painted on, you read this right)~ it's a similar case with perfume. We see the past through the eyes of the present and with a hope and longing for the future. It's an Utopia. And like all Utopias, an ideal one. I sympathize. I'm with you. But I prefer to admit it is and don't think I should be penalized for saying so.

One point which was resounding and which the industry would better heed to is the following, voiced by many: "I buy vintage because I don't like modern perfumes, niche or mainstream". Yup, I can see some of the veracity of that pronouncement. Maybe if mediocre stuff wasn't pushed as unicorn's tears, maybe I would be less harsh myself.

Finally, point number 3, it was rather disconcerting to see to have the authority of the people I quoted attempted to be undermined as non relatable, as "weirdos" (verbatim on another site) or with some invested interest into pushing new niche juice or into selling their own "versions" of vintage juice. The quotes are taken from the public forum and are just a choice picking because they are fascinating, coming from people who have spent their lives into the actual business and had access to the original formulae. As an example Musc Ravageur was recently reformulated, as officially admitted, yet no one raised an eyebrow; if Malle hadn't leaked this, no one wouldn't have been the wiser, because there is attention given to the work, it's not some hatched up job as widely imagined to be. Pity poor Thierry Wasser for all the shit he had thrown his way because he came on board at Guerlain at that particular moment in time: remember the vilifying, criminally rude implication that he should somehow forsake his position to allow Patricia de Nicolai gain access to the Guerlain canon? I consider this just one of the despicable milestones of the perfume world timeline.

Obviously people at large will continue to buy new niche juice because the concept of niche perfumes as connoisseur or exclusive stuff is too successful from a marketing point of view to stop anytime soon; market research shows it's the only rapidly growing segment of the perfume industry and everyone is jumping on board to grab a bite off the pie. And obviously the market for reconstituted vintage juices wasn't big to begin with, never was the prime objective or job of one of the people quoted and shouldn't be held as an ad hominem attack. It's highly ironic, let it be said in passing, that someone with a self-promoted controversial profile in our secluded circle, who has never been in any capacity involved into the creation of fine fragrance at any given moment, was deemed a quotable source than professionals who have spent their whole lives immersed into actual perfume making (let me here repeat that Malle's kin was fragrance head at Dior "back in the good old days" and that Dame has worked at Caron, Lauder, you-name-it etc). It proves something that is all too well known to politicians: that self-promo works and the more you say what people want to hear the more you're "liked" by them.

Boucheron Boucheron Femme eau de parfum & extait de parfum: fragrance review

Direct kin off Narcisse Noir (Caron's venerable classic built on orange blossom and Sunset Boulevard notoriety) Boucheron Femme is at once a queenly narcotic perfume that recalls retro beauties and a fragrance that breathes contemporary air; if by contemporary we refer to the still living, still breathing women who first discovered it in the 1980s when it erupted Venus like from the sea foam "sprayed" by the creative sperm of perfumers Francis Deleamont and Jean-Pierre Bethouart in 1988. Obviously this is the result of palinoia rather than divine intervention, but it feels like the latter, such is the awe it inspires in me. Boucheron Femme feels the way Venus de Milo looks: eudaimonia (ευδαιμονία), in Greek literally  denoting "of benevolent spirit", a balance of prosperous good living, of contended human flourishing.

I suppose what I'm trying to convey in my Greek-inflected English is that Boucheron Femme possesses the sort of timeless charm that makes for idols such as Greta Garbo or goddesses such as Venus; intelligence built in the glamor package, a healthy dosage of wit and self-deprecation (or self-insouciance), the distance necessary to feel special and never "me too". The only reason I can discern for this perfume being less well known or lauded than some others (and thus forming part of the Underrated Perfume Day feature today) is that audiences have been so conditioned not to understand quality, even when it slaps them in the face, that the likes of Boucheron Femme can remain a code for the secret handshake societies of perfumistadom such as this one.

The formula of Boucheron Femme fragrance remains a beautifully balanced textbook definition of the floriental genre: an oriental perfume skeleton onto which lush flower notes have been etched with the precision of a skilled calligrapher on thick moire paper. Orange blossom absolute with its candied and indolic facets is contributing the main floral theme, blooming as the succession of two different but equally "fresh" directions in the introduction: one is the citrusy fruity theme of hesperides (elegant bergamot, juicy and sweet mandarin) plus fleshy lactonic apricot; the other is the emerald accent of galbanum grass resin rising atop with a couple of complimentary notes in bright minty basil and bluish, celadon narcissus.

Although tuberose and jasmine are among the cluster of flowers contributing to the rich radiant bouquet, Boucheron Femme is that kind of fragrance where one would be hard pressed to say where one floral essence begins and one ends. The orange blossom is dominant, sure, but the rest are supporting players with important lines to deliver all the same.
The plush of the base isn't just downy soft, it can only be described as the finest, whitest ermine, the smoothest marble, the deepest shimmer of smoky cognac diamonds. Constructed out of amber, vanilla, olibanum (frankincense), sandalwood and the vanillic, caramelic benzoin resin, it is everything a grand oriental should accomplish, but without losing the plot into too vampish. Boucheron Femme is always the lady and a very knowing and smart lady at that.

The bottle of Boucheron Femme is famously inspired by cabochon sapphires set on a ring. In fact the glorious parfum concentration (which smooths out the marmoreal qualities of the resins even further without losing the inherent radiance) is shaped like a giant ring for une femme aux gros doigts, sitting in its own leather-cased box lined with felt like a real jewel would. But what am I saying…it IS a jewel, what the French so aptly call un parfum bijou. 

Wear it with your very best, naked skin!

pics via pinterest

Tabu by Dana: fragrance review & free vintage perfume giveaway

Tabu by Dana has always had a reputation wickeder than its actual self ("for women who wear their knickers on their heads" [1]), like a girl at high school that everyone thought was promiscuous, while in fact she had being going steady with the older mysterious guy from college. Let's just describe it in style or literary terms: it's not the sort of perfume you'd envision on Audrey Hepburn, but rather on Constance Chatterley. Someone who, although not promiscuous, is not only full aware but exhibiting of the pressing need of their sexual urges.

It all goes back to Javier Sera, the founder of the Spanish house of Dana, who had apparently asked for "un parfum de puta" (a whore's brew) from his perfumer Jean Carles. This was surrealist times back in 1932, so the modern shock should be minimized. The publication of Totem and Taboo [2] had already come 2 decades ago, therefore the name had gained a widespread familiarity and at the same time that frisson of the forbidden it truly represents. Tabu was to be the ultimate "fragrance taboo" now that the divides of society thanks to the aftermath of WWI had crumbled in several cases. Dana's Tabu would reprise for good the dubious essences that the demi-monde alone enjoyed during La Belle Epoque, rendering it both a unity unto itself and segregating it from polite society. Dana thus exploited the awakened sensuality which lift the lid in the two decades between the two World Wars and the wanderlust therein not dormant anymore. Its exceedingly successful course in the market for several decades indicates that this was not just relevant to those times. We can see its impact on both En Avion (Caron, same year, same general concept but played on the leather chypre scale) and the more powdery oriental Bal a Versailles (Desprez, 1962), not to mention milestones such as  Youth Dew, YSL Opium and Coco by Chanel.

Carles, who had not yet lost his sense of smell and worked at Roure, composed a classic, a formula that took the oriental "mellis accord" and gave it wings pulling into two different but equally potent directions: one was the spicy floral & patchouli chord (composed via eugenol, spices and patchouli) and the other the brontide notes of civet, labdanum and musk. The full formula contains also benzyl salicylate and hydroxycintronellal for added radiance and oomph and indeed putting a few drops of even the lighter concentrations of Tabu on the skin amount to having a full on orchestra accompanying your solitary whistling tune. The lighter, citric or floral notes (bergamot, orange blossom, neroli and a heart of rose and ylang) only act as see through veils under which we can gaze at Salome's voluptuous body. A kind of sophisticated apodyopsis fit for a psychoanalyst's couch: one can only imagine the naked body underneath the clothes that waft Tabu. True to its advertising "when Tabu becomes a part of you, you become apart of all others" and despite its carnal reputation it wears as a very fetching, sultry but suave fragrance that both women and men can enjoy.


The advertising history of Dana's Tabu perfume makes for a whole chapter by itself, full of passionate images of torrid affairs. I have touched upon the subject on the linked post, so if you're curious take a peak.

Tabu is still available at drugstores and online, though the modern formulations are thinned out and lacking a certain "kick" compared to 30 years ago. This is the reason I'm offering a vintage miniature to one lucky reader as a small Xmas gift. Post a comment below to enter. Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight and winner will be announced sometime on Monday.

[1]Susan Irvine in the Perfume Guide, 2000. 
[2]Sigmund Freud, Totem and Taboo: Similarities between the lives of savages and neurotics, 1913.

Best Sweet Violets Fragrances (Violet Series)

Candied violet fragrances have a retro ambience about them, same as often happens with violet scents that have a cosmetics and face powder tonality (due to the association with vintage face products that were scented with this chord). The sweet violet note evoking benevolent grannies however has to do with comforting rather than vain cultural associations, thanks to the ubiquitousness of violet candies in previous decades, such as Violettes de Toulouse, Parma Violets and Choward's Violet Mints to sweeten the breath.

via pinterest

Contemporary violets with a sweet, sugared feel often comprise a berry note (raspberry or blackberry), which is due to both a facet of the ionones molecules used to render the violet note itself (purposefully highlighted for this particular genre) and thanks to an additional dosage of berries aromachemicals that boost the syrupy effect, thus recalling Sirop saveur Violette, a popular addition in cocktails and desserts. This technique modernizes them and gives the violets a fruity floral touch that makes them more familiar to the young consumer, such as done recently to varying degrees of success in YSL Parisienne and Guerlain Insolence.

Sweet violet perfumes are especially recommended if, like my friend Gaia The Non Blonde, you have "skin where violets go to die" (i.e. if you have longevity issues with more delicate notes in a fragrance that fall apart when you wear them). These sweeter violets are perfumes which stick for dear life in most cases and provide a discernible violets trail unlike quieter, greener or soft violet fragrances.
Naturally the threshold for sweetness is an individual case; trial and error will guide you through how much you can handle.

This is part of Perfume Shrine's Violet Series perfume articles focusing on violets-laced fragrances in all their nuances, so if you missed previous posts, take a minute to consult Violet, Violet Leaf & Ionones (for an essay on the perfumery materials), Best Soft Powdery Violet Fragrances , Best Woody, Earthy Violet Fragrances and Best Green & Aqueous Violet Leaf Fragrances.

Top Sweet Violet Fragrances include:

Alexander McQueen My Queen (a candied violet with patchouli in purple packaging; how apropos!)
Annick Goutal La Violette (lightly sweet, subtle, soliflore)
Borsari Violetta di Parma (a quiet, lightly sweet Parma violet scent)
Berdoues Violettes de Toulouse (the reference candied violet scent, inspired by violet fragrance candies)
Berdoues Violettes Divine, (a flanker to the Violettes de Toulouse with a darker base)
Christiane Celle Calypso Violette (retro sweet, with a celebrities following including Liz Hurley, if that means anything to you)
Guerlain Insolence (with tangy sweet berries top note; muskier in EDT, denser and sweeter in EDP)
Oscar de la Renta Oscar Violet (limited edition of Oscar with an unusual milk chocolate rendition of violet, odd and nice)
Possets Silver Violets (directly inspired by Choward's violet candies, sugary stuff and not exactly great, included on this list just to gauge how much sugar is possible)
Thierry Mugler Angel La Violette (a violet nuance on top of the regular gourmand oriental of Angel)

I'm also including Lipstick Rose (Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle) in this sweet violets list, although it's predominantly a lipstick-reminiscent fragrance (as implied by the name), because it's a very very calorific, waxy violet with rose, almost to the point of stickiness. Your mileage may vary.
Last but not least, the original version of Caron's Violette Precieuse used to be a succulent candied violet, refined but playful. The fragrance has changed at least twice over the years and the current version is much more of a greener, slightly metallic version with rose.

Related Reading on Perfume Shrine: The Violet Series

Best Soft, Powdery Violet Fragrances (via Reader's Mail Request)

The lovely Margaret sent me the following query in an email and as it touches on a subject I have skimmed when talking about the creation of violet fragrances, it's worth sharing with you for more suggestions and recommendations when searching for the Top Violet Fragrances out there.

"Dear Elena,
I came across Perfume Shrine a few months ago while browsing the " net " trying ( without success ) to find information on making perfume with violets ; that is violet flowers. I find your website fascinating, particularly the history of perfume and your wonderfully evocative descriptions of the perfumes. Do you know of any perfume which is made today with violet flowers?"

via Melissa Frank at Pinterest

Did I know indeed. For all practical purposes, violet flowers are non existent in perfumery. Our back and forth took the direction of an exchange for more info.
I immediately replied to her thus:

"No wonder you didn't find information on perfume making using violet flowers. There is no sufficient cost-effective oil from the violet flower and perfumers routinely use synthetic molecules, called ionones, to render the violet note (The violet leaf note does yield a different oil which can be used, but the effect is different).
There are two main directions in violet fragrances, apart from the violet leaf one (very much in use in masculine fragrances) which renders a watery, lightly metallic note and I gather is not what you're searching for.
Therefore, one direction is sweet violet perfumes reminiscent of Parma violet candies (of the viola odorata kind). The other is more powdery violet perfumes which are sometimes reminiscent of cosmetic products (face powder and specifically lipstick when coupled with rose). I was wondering which is that you're seeking (or another one entirely) as that would help me direct you more accurately."

Margaret was quick to point out that
"Perfumes reminiscent of Parma violet candies sounds a bit too sweet for me ; I think I would prefer the powdery type of violet perfume. As far as I could glean from the internet , violet perfume was once made by the cold enfleurage method , a very time consuming and expensive process Incidentally, I read in a biography of Empress Eugenie of France that violet was her signature scent. As she was such a fashion icon of the era , violet became the scent of the Second Empire To give you an idea of the sort of perfumes I like, they are light floral romantic and elegant such as Diorissimo or the original Fete by Molyneux"..

Indeed the violet flower essence was not cost effective and it had all but disappeared by the time (late 1950s-1960s) that Steffen Arctander was writing his guide to botanic materials.
I then emailed her back with a list of soft violet fragrances, with a powdery undertone in most cases (in fact some are so delicate and feminine that I had included them in the Parfums Lingerie list I coined back a while, you might want to check both lists):

 penhaligon's via pinterest

Balmain Jolie Madame (with a hint of leather)
Borsari Violetta di Parma (soft and quiet, not very sweet)
Bvlgari Pour Femme (the original one in the transparent bottle, but not frosted glass)
Caron Aimez-Moi 
Chloe Love, Chloe
DSH Violetta de Murano
Guerlain Meteorites (discontinued fragrance, but sometimes can be found at discounters and on Ebay; it's a very powdery soft violet reminiscent of the homonymous face powder)
Gorilla Perfumes Tuca Tuca
Kenzo Flower
Laura Tonatto Eleanore Duse (sensual and romantic)
Penhaligon's Violetta (lightly sweet violet)
Sonoma Scent Studio Lieu de Reves
Tom Ford Violet Blonde
Yardley April Violets (traditional soft violets)
YSL Paris in eau de parfum (the eau de toilette is cleaner, the eau de parfum more powdery)

pic via

"I believe you'd find the true "cosmetic" accord a bit thick for your tasting, Margaret, such as the one found in Lipstick Rose by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle which indeed smells like retro lipstick  (so I'm saving you the cost of buying expensive samples!). Possibly Drole de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur (in the same category) might be lighter smelling to you nevertheless. I'm just mentioning it because I think it's a very girlish, feminine perfume, softly powdery, like cosmetics.

I'm afraid you won't find a truly 100% all naturals violet fragrance out there that is a violet soliflore. Perfumers need to make conscessions to using synthetics to produce this note. But some are more natural than others (Gorilla, DSH, Laura Tonatto). These brands can be found Googling. All natural violet fragrances that are worthwhile and true smelling include Anya's Garden Moondance, where the violet impression is however injected with a little tuberose."

I was about to mention Guerlain Apres L'Ondee to her, from the classics which intermingle naturals and synthetics, but the newer reformulation of the eau de toilette is warmer with more heliotrope rather than the older balancing act of cool violets and heliotrope-anise, so I refrained.

Of course violet fragrances can run the gamut, with woody-earthy violets (where the note is coupled with the analogous iris), face cosmetics reminiscent rose-violet fragrances (which we skimmed the surface of in this post), sweet style Choward's candy rich sugared violet scents or green, leafy violets full of spring foliage. We will revert with different lists of the top selections in those categories in our Best Violet Fragrances Guide.

Last but not least, one interesting tidbit I found on violets mentions that bisexual women and lesbians used to give violets to women they were wooing, symbolizing their "Sapphic" desire, because Greek poetess Sappho described herself and a lover wearing garlands of violets in one of her poems. The giving of violets was popular from the 1910s to the 1950s.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Violets, violet leaf and ionones (synthetic violet notes)