All that's Wrong with Perfume Nowadays

I've given collective thanks, done my small bit with a good cause charity, plan to donate stuff at my local shelter too and you might feel I'm all spic & span and feeling sanctimonious, don't you. Well, I have had a huge rant rising up in me, crazy-bitchy stuff that you like, and waited just till the season of thanks was semi-over to spill it over these pages for your collective head-nodding (or not; read on to find out and feel free to agree or disagree in the comments).

I was aimlessly browsing at Sephora the other day. A precarious walk amidst beauty bombs, it seems. From left to right and top to bottom there were tantalizing promises of a "younger, thinner, prettier you" in the form of spunky beauty tricksters, sparkling baubles and mascaras that promise to vibrate from here to eternity. Even a beauty editor can be taunted into submission, there's so much stuff out there. The perfume aisles at Sephora are of course decked with all the newest, the plastic wrappers almost warm to the touch off the conveyor belt at some far away factory in some exotic locale. And the best-sellers, naturally. I wasn't expecting to find niche stuff. But -in my country at least- they used to carry plenty of the dependable "mainstays"; indeed they continue to carry Chanel No.19 in Eau de Parfum (a brisk seller locally by all accounts), Aliage and White Linen by Lauder and Miss Dior and the rest of the classic Diors. Right?
Well, no. Strike that latter part out (thank you LVMH).

Not only have Sephora boutiques ditched the classic Dior selection they carried (I used to find everything from Dolce Vita to classic Poison to Dune to Diorissimo effortlessly, alongside bestselling J'Adore and Hypnotic Poison), they displayed prominently a bow-style bottle with salmon juice bearing the name Miss Dior! A double take (you can see the eyesore by yourself at left) and a percursory sniff later, I'm convinced my worst instincts weren't wrong: This is Miss Dior Chérie re-incarnated as simply....Miss Dior. Forget about the classic that kickstarted the Dior fragrance line at 1947. Forget all the history, the accolades, the dedicated following, the definition of gardenia-chypre with animalic tendencies. Young ones are condemned to read about Miss Dior in the future and think of this vile, character-less conconction (because yes, even Miss Dior Chérie has been reformulated to blandness!). What the heck, LVMH? You don't take your originator and bury it six feet under. The confusion to the consumer who was lured by the myth of Miss Dior and then hooked on the slutty girliness of the sweet strawberry-patchouli scent of Miss Dior Chérie was a low trick enough (Exploiting the past to sell the present). Talk about pinkification...

Supposedly this weird bottle is a limited edition, as if the Miss Dior Chérie line isn't confusing enough. (The Ukrainian-sounding sales assistant told me that Sephora has dropped the classic MD perfume, of which she was fully aware, off their catalogue, but other stores still carry it). Supposedly the original is going to be sold as Miss Dior L'Original in several stores. But colour me sceptical: This is pretty much the summation of everything that's wrong with Parfums Dior: not an incompetence of the perfumers team, but bad marketing and positioning decisions that in their lust for more profit, more exposure, more easy sales, lose their core values; intergrity, originality, sticking to one's guns.

I know for a fact that the classic Miss Dior sells adequatelly. I also know for a fact that although teenagers are not the demographic aimed at (much as it was the debutante scent of yore), they are not averse to it when given a chance to blind test it; I have personally sprayed the scarf of an unknown teenager girl when asked what I'm using at the ladies' room and though she found the initial blast "heavy"  (notice the vocabulary confusion when trying to describe scent; she meant bitter mossy) she very much liked the effect left on her scarf and carefully noted down the name. But in the end it doesn't matter. Even if the classic Miss Dior didn't sell more than 5 bottles a year at each respective store, a specimen should always be on display because it represents HISTORY. How many of the upstarts can claim that?

To add insult to injury, I have Snooki releasing her own fragrance and on top of that pondificating on perfume for our sakes via quotes and interviews. Snooki, yes, the one from Jersey Shore (if you're European like me, you probably need to check out what the hell this is), about whom I had been bombarded with in press-releases and informercials (what she's using, what she likes, what's her peeing schedule, as if we give a darn), who's going on record saying she only likes sweet stuff: "I don't like anything strong that smells like old ladies. That's why I'm going for the sweet because old ladies don't smell sweet." [from her interesting interview on Allure, which thankfully reveals the girl doesn't know nil shit about fragrance anyway]
Excuse me while I dribble kiwi suryp & smear cupcakes all over myself (as if!) in order to be presentable to the world as the paragon of youthful and alluring. Not.
I mean: kiwi & cupcakes; can you think of a grosser combination of fragrances?

No offence to the girl and you've got to admire perseverance into "making it" in show business, especially when your talons are long enough to make accomplish all those required "moves" rather problematic (if you catch my drift), but how can anyone take style advice from this paragon of elegance and graceful style?
So, in order to have one's say in such matters you have to put down on older women; that always works. No one questions the sagacity of wanting to appear/feel younger, because, well, everybody wants to. Right?

There in a nutshell: two totally unrelated incidents, one gigantic cultural zit turning to a painful boil. Someone needs to lance it, once and for all.

Photo on top by Marilyn Minter. Pic of snooki via hollywoodlife.com

Does Lily of the Valley Act as a Sex Attractant?

The first molecule to challenge the notion that women smell more efficiently than men is revealed, having the dubious ~but fascinating too~ privilige of being the one which also activates OR1D2; that's the human olfactory receptor which, besides being found in the human nose, is also expressed in human sperm cells! Yes, sperm cells actually "smell" all right! The molecule is the aldehyde Bourgeonal and it smells of lily of the valley, also known and referenced as muguet. (Makes you rethink that green Ajax Fête des fleurs you've been using to mop your floor, doesn't it?)
So, do the little swimmers go straight for the dip into your lily of the valley lathered and scented, ahem, private parts? (Lily of the valley substitutes have been for long used in soap making). But before you go out of your way to also clear the shelves of your closest perfumery hall off their stock of Diorissimo and Envy, take a moment to think and appreciate the facts:

It's Bourgeonal alone which activates testicular odor receptors [Science, 2003] and not another lily of the valley aromachemical and it was one among 100 ingredients screened for receptor activation abilities. Bourgeonal just happened to be one of them, which doesn't exclude that there may be others, even more capable of the job. German scientist Hanns Hatt is nevertheless so convinced that he wrote a book (in German) touching upon it with the title: "The lily of the valley phenomenon: All about smell and how it affects our lives". (There could be hundreds of applications in either fertility or contraception products in the future, I guess, not to mention a distinct stirring of the market off the pheromones and into muguet territory! Think about that for a moment...).
The beginning of the research on sperm odour receptors predates this: "Dr. Parmentier, working with researchers in Holland and France, accidentally discovered the sperm receptors while looking for genes that help control thyroid hormones. Using a technique called polymerase chain reaction to scare out even shadows of gene activity from tissue samples, they stumbled on a family of receptor genes active in male germ cells, the precursor tissue that matures into sperm". [source]

To revert to bourgeonal, according to the snippet which I found at First Nerve, where the news was posted, "Peter Olsson and Matthias Laska at Linkőping University in Sweden have finally found a molecule that men detect at reliably lower concentrations than women. It’s an aromatic aldehyde called bourgeonal and as we shall see it’s an interesting molecule for other reasons. [...] Bourgeonal is a potent molecular signal that is critical to sperm chemotaxis, In other words, it’s what sperm use to find their way to the egg. So it makes more than a little evolutionary sense that bourgeonal detection is ramped up in men and their gametic representatives". Of course, Dr.Avery Gilbert has the right humorous tone of telling the facts, so go over and take a read.
But where does the attracting ingredient come from, biologically speaking? "Is it the egg itself, or some other part of the female reproductive tract? 'It could be that the egg is releasing an attractant that helps guide the sperm to the egg, but the problem is that we don't yet know whether, in fact, the egg is the source of that attractant,' Donner Babcock says". [source]

Searching around the Internez I found a post from Jenny van Veenen in Perfume Making back from August 2007, in which she tackles exactly bourgeonal for it sperm kinetics capabilities. The VERY interesting fact and with an especially related connection to perfumes is that "the aroma chemical 'Undecanal' (Aldehyde C-11 undecylenic, waxy/fatty/rose/citrus odor) appears to block the effect of Bourgeonal and inhibits the chemo sensory response in sperm cells. " So watch out those aldehydes if you're trying to get pregnant, you might check out the products you use or if you're trying to avoid getting pregnant you might embrace undecanal etc. A brave new world indeed.

More reading: NY Times , Health 24 and 3Sat (in German)

pic from Perfume Making

Perfumes that Attract Men and Smells which Turn Women On

Are there sure-fire ways to lure the opposite sex "by the nose", so to speak? Fragrances and colognes which produce that extraordinary feat of attracting a partner? No disclaimer should be necessary, but let's put it anyway: Sexual attraction is a complex process which relies on sublimilar as well as physical attributes and is -here's the catch- completely individualised. Even if one could argue that value or beauty have an objective facet to their basis, it's sexual attraction which escapes preconceptions, cultural lumpings together and the "golden rule", being the last individualistic frontier. Simply said, there is no golden rule in attraction. Everyone's different and not even the same person is attracted by the same thing constantly! If Tania Sanchez infamously quipped men are attracted to the smell of bacon (in order to make a point that there needs to be put an end to this "objectifying" perfume and regressing it to the status of voodoo talisman ), still it's enough to Google "perfume that..." in order to bumb into autocomplete options that heavily feature"perfume that attracts men, that men love on women, and that turns men on". But it isn't just the ladies who are doing the asking. There are also the popular autocomplete options to the phrase "what smells" which run the gamut from "what smells do guys like" and those that "turn guys on", to "what smells turn women on". Men are also searching for what women like to sniff on them. Like with words in languages, when there is a keen interest, there is a keen need for something. What is this need? A shortcut into a maze, most probably.



So let's take the suggestions by a popular webzine, YourTango.com and break them down one by one with our own comments and see if we can get out of that maze. They have nicely proposed lists for both the ladies and the gents. I suppose, if you're playing for the other team, you have to improvise a bit and expand your horizons on the perfume counter (Doesn't sound so bad!)

SMELLS WHICH TURN WOMEN ON

• Old Spice: From 1937 and with no signs of waning (witness the ingenious award-winning commercials), this is a dependable classic of lavender and citrus over spicy woodiness that even back in 1969 ads it was advertised with the tag line "Girls like it -Is there any better reason to wear Old Spice?" Careful though, lest it reminds her of her dad.

• Victoria's Secret Very Sexy for Him: I will have to take their word on it, as I haven't smelled this myself. Is it that sexy?

• Guy Laroche's Drakkar Noir: Named after a Viking ship, the definition of a chest-thumping masculine fougere, and still quit popular, decades after its release. Oddly enough it has characterised a generation of dykes who snatched it from the masculine cologne shelves in the late 1980s. Perfume and sex orientation can make for a fascinating thesis.

• Ralph Lauren Polo: There is something about this scent which smells both outdoorsy (that mossy background) and at the same time like one is doing their own laundry at home (that powdery fresh and coumarinic blast). Interestingly enough, the YourTango.com article mentions that "any Lauren scent fares well". I beg to differ.

• Aftershave: Nivea and Gillette. What do we see? The triumph of the familiar yet again. The classic aftershave "note" is one constructed on the deceptively simple axiom of the "aromatic fougere" fragrance family structure. Do I hear a stampede at the drugstore while doing the weekly shopping now?

• Laundry detergent/soap: Now you know why everything is being advertised as being "clean-smelling", like "just out of the shower" sexy etc. etc. I guess, if you're going to be doing any skin contact with any guy it's a relief to know he is at least hugienically approved. The rest of the problems are just waiting to raise their little head, but at least he's clean.

SCENTS WHICH ATTRACT & MAKE MEN DROOL

This list was inspired by the famous Smell & Taste Treatment and Research Foundation and the findings of dr.Hirsch and yes, you can imagine I'm wielding my fist at them, spawning as they did a myriad incarnations of the same sweet swirl laced with vanilla and juvenile foodie smells on Sephora shelves, making us all smell like little bakery girls eternally putting glaze on ourselves! But I digress...Supposedly, some of these smells produce alpha-brain waves, which produce a relaxed state of mind. Or others rouse penile flow. I don't know which is worse, having someone fall asleep on your neck from nuzzling thus denying you the continuation into a promising ~fireworks!~ night, or being chased around by a rabit erection and a not-so-subtle glint in the eye? Again, I digress...So let's get down and see which smells make the cut. Ahem...anyway...

• Vanilla: Guerlain could tell some tales on that score, as they have long held it's an aphrodisiac and put it in many of their sophisticated creations. Apparently, the somewhat less sophisticated readership of Askmen.com seems to agree. Dear reader, please, if you must go the vanilla route, pick up something rich, full-bodied and reminiscent of real vanilla pods (a very complex, almost boozy smell). Yourtango.com recommends Shalimar. Excellent choice, I'd add, unless it was his grandma's scent of choice. (Success lies in the details)

• Doughnut & Black Licorice: This depended on the appex of penile flow charted. Don't be so swayed and exhaust yourself trying to find that combo in a ready-made perfume, other brave souls went there before you and returned empty handed. Demeter makes a Licorice though reminiscent of candies and as to the doughnut, get your lazy bum in the kitchen missie and make him one, already! He will be thankful.

• Pumpkin Pie: Purely a cultural breed apart. This is specifically a fond association for American born & raised men, as the dish isn't popular in other parts of the world. It is thought to be particularly effective when combined with lavender (the spices suit it). It is thought to be particularly silly to be hunting for that combination at the perfume store. Yet Bath and Body Works makes a Cinnamon Pumpkin, which might be second best choice for that thing. Also a Pumpkin Pie Paradise body lotion...

• Orange: Humble fruit, a happy smell. Euphoria is, ahem, uplifting. There are hundreds of fragrances on the market which feature a distinct orange note, from orientals like the body products line of the classic Opium to the fruity smell of Marc Jacobs Splash and Boss Orange.

• Lily of the Valley: If you are a non gourmand fragrance lover and have been exasperating reading this list, rejoice. Lily of the valley may have a demure and chaste image but as we have focused on in our previous article, it's anything but; on the contrary it attracts male sperm! Who would have thought? The classic Diorissimo coupled with something white might run the thought of your white sheets through his head. Only he will be too apprehensive of that thought and feel a little guilty, fooled by the virginal quality of the flower. Prey on it, ladies!

And you, what do you recommend? Which fragrances have been men-magnets or women-attractants in your experience?

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Romancing the Scent part 1 and part 2

Paintings by Stella Im Hultberg and Sexy by Tatinan Escobar.

Dior sketch ads: how lovely!

How can an obituary be glamorous? Or related to scent barring the mental connection with funeral flowers? Well, it can, if it involves René Gruau, chief visualiser and illustrator for parfums Christian Dior.
Here is his obuitary from the Guardian:

"René Gruau (Count Renato Zavagli Ricciardelli delle Camminate), graphic artist, born February 4 1909; died March 31 2004" (from the Guardian 15 April 2004)

Guardian obituaries

It says so little...In fact it was exactly Gruau that persuaded Dior to accept the offer of textile magnate Marcel Boussac to help establish a fashion house. After all not many know that Christian Dior began as an illustrator himself. The rest is of course history.

Born in Rimini, Italy, in 1910 as Renato Conte de Savagli-Ricardelli, he had a French mother, Marie Gruau, who was known as a great beauty and must surely be held responsible for providing the son with his first glimpse of beauty that culminated in his vision and aesthetic explorations.

Interestingly he borrowed his mother's name, of which he used "G" for a signature, visible on his sketches for Dior, surmounted by what seems to be a star based on an ink-splash (later he put this symbol on his Rolls-Royce, of all things!)
Using a heavier charcoal outline or thick paint brush was his signature look at an era that preferred watercolours and delicate delineations. It was his modernity that differentiated him and which was a companion till the very end, making his work seem current even today in a world that has practically seen everything.
Apart from Dior he also did illustrations for Balmain, Lanvin, Schiaparelli and his favourite, Balenciaga. He was also instrumental in trying to give a younger image to Givenchy couture. Not to forget his work for films (who can forget his "La Dolce Vita" or "French CanCan" art posters?)and for "glossies": Flair, Vogue and Harper's Bazaar. His provision for Moulin Rouge and Lido remind us of another famous artist of posters with arguably low subjects turned into high art: Toulouse-Lautrec.
But his work for Dior parfums is crystallised someplace in the best part of perfume lovers' mind.

We can see in this not often referenced pic of the first three Dior fragrances that the three perfumes look to be embodients of three "sisters", dressed in comparable fashions: the outlines of the bodies hidden beneath meters of cloth, their heads clothed in loose hoods. The choice of rose, black and white seems to be characteristic of Gruau's palette, even to the modern day. Here they represent different olfactory profiles. It would be interesting to guess which is which! Of course the easiest one would be to attribute white to Diorissimo, it being a more virginal lily of the valley scent (although, not quite!). But which is Miss Dior and which Diorama? Therein lies the charm.

"Some of his artworks were what we now call "brand images" - the pearl-necklaced swan he dreamed up for Miss Dior perfume after Dior gave him a whiff and a briefing" (quote from the Guardian article above). Here it is from 1950. A true classic, just like a string of lustruous pearls on a delicate lily throat.

However apart from vulnerability, there is also the hint of the animalistic in Miss Dior that is so evocatively suggested in this 1949 advertisement: a woman's hand resting on a leopard's paw. The long fingers of a pale feminine hand resting on the spotted fur. Elegance and ferociousness rolled into one burst of olfactory mirth; like the glorious parfum itself!

In 1950 he draw an image of a woman almost melting into a what seems like a giant white lotus flower in a pool of black ink. It also vaguely reminds us of the pon-pon of dusting powder; which is not averse to the dry feel of chypré perfumes, of which Diorama {click here for review} and Miss Dior are great examples, for which the ad was conceived (it run for both).
Gloriously simple, gloriously evocative.

The elegant sweep of his intense brushstrokes can be seen in this Dior Dior advertisement from 1978. The black "ribbon" both delineates the dress (witness the sleeve and the drape of the cloth sketched in a sweep) and his signature. I call this an apotheosis of design calligraphy. Don't you?

Diorella always had the air of independence and élan that is so characteristic to the French parfum du jour. We might as well mention here that although France is considered to be the olfactory capital of the world, this by no means equals heavy bombastic perfumes being considered bon chic bon genre for the day. It is much more elegant to save the romantic and seductive potions for the night, the opera and the ballet or the club than for the errands of the day. For those instances classy BCBG Parisians opt for something light and zingy, like Diorella. {click here for review} And which image denotes an active woman off to town better than this one, pants and boots encasing dynamic gams, sketched by Gruau?

"He limned sexy gentlemen's limbs for the men's range Eau Sauvage far into the 1980s" (quote from the Guardian article above). And what an intriguing idea this is! It hints at both mystery (the hidden torso and face) as well as virility (the hairy legs). This came out in 1966. They just don't make them like this anymore... On a subsequent image from 1970 (interesting to note that by then the sexual revolution was in full swing), the white bathrobe is substituted by a piece of furry hide that plays upon the "sauvage" (=wild) connotation.
Less intriguing than the previous incarnation, but just as playful.

"Perhaps this latter image would befit the 1980s flanker Eau Sauvage Extreme to a T, in its black opaque bottle and ferocious name. The white bathrobe however wasn't abandonded, resurfacing again in 1971, 1977 and 1978. Some things are just too good to let go!

A great artist and a witty man, to be sure.



If I have persuaded you to take an interest in this artist's work, take a moment to revel in these glorious fashion sketches....

We will continue with the Dior chypres shortly. Stay tuned!

Pics from artnet, operagloves and okadi

Fragrance Layering: Tips for Scent Combining part 2, Suggestions by Francis Kurkdjian & Serge Lutens

If you're new to scent combining or "layering" (or don't know what this is) please refer to our Layman's Guide to Fragrance Layering on this link. Today I'm updating with part 2 with perfume combining suggestions by famous "noses".

To start you off, here are some recommendations by acclaimed perfumer Francis Kurdjian as they first appeared in French Marie-Claire, Dec 2005. Kukdjian recommends a starter perfume of proven popularity/classic status (below, in capitals) and then offers suggestions on what to layer it with, according to occasion/time of day. It's interesting to note that he regularly offers suggestions involving his own compositions...which would negate the often quipped argument that layering is only meant for "mending" a fragrance lacking in some way.

SHALIMAR
Day : Cologne de Mugler or Eau d’Hadrien or Eau de Cologne Bien-Etre verte
Night : Musc Ravageur (Malle) or B*Men de Mugler

L’AIR DU TEMPS
Day : Eau parfumée au thé vert Bulgari
Night : Eternity (C.Klein)

via aufeminin.com

L'HEURE BLEUE
Day : Un jardin en méditerranée d’Hermès
Night : Voile d’Ambre (Y.Rocher) or Nu d’YSL

CHANEL NO.5
Day : Colonia d’Acqua di Parma
Night : Musc Ravageur (Malle) or Féminité du bois (Lutens)

JOY
Day : Blush de Marc Jacobs or Rose barbare de Guerlain
Night : Original Musk de Kiehl’s

CHANEL NO.19
Day : Mure et Musc or Hiris (Hermès ) or Déclaration pour homme de Cartier or Eau de Cartier
Night : Lolita Lempicka or L’Eau Ivre No.03 de Iunx

YSL OPIUM original
Day : Un Jardin sur le Nil d'Hermès
Night : Poivre Samarcande Hermessence d’Hermès or Féminité du bois

YSL PARIS
Day : Rose Ikabena Hermessence d’Hermès or Sa Majesté la Rose (Lutens)
Night : Cuir Améthyste d’Armani Privé

GIORGIO BERVERLY HILLS
Day : Rem de Reminiscence
Night : L’Instant de Guerlain

via hqprints.com

DIORISSIMO
Day : Cologne de Thierry Mugler
Night : Mandarena de Sicilia d’Aqua di Parma or Le Parfum de Castelbajac

FÉMINITÉ DU BOIS
Day : Eau d’Orange Verte d’Hermès
Night : Angel or Rush de Gucci

EAU D’ISSEY
Day : Anais Anais
Night : Rem de Reminiscence

NARCISCO RODRIGUEZ
Day : Fleur d’Oranger de L’Artisan Parfumeur
Night : Aromatics Elixir


AMBRE SULTAN
Day : Eau d’Hadrien
Night : Gaultier2

MURE et MUSC
Day : Dior Diorella or Pleasures (Lauder)
Night : Rahat Loukoum (Lutens)

LOLITA LEMPICKA
Day: Violette de Maison Berdoues
Night: Angel

TRÉSOR
Day : Promesse de Cacharel or Lovely de SJP
Night : Vanille Passion de Comptoir Sud Pacifique

The info comes from French Marie-Claire, Dec 2005 print edition (I believe I was notified of this snippet ages ago by Bela/MUA, if I recall correctly)

Other perfumers also recommend layering.
Here are some of the recommendations of Serge Lutens of Palais Royal de Shiseido. Serge even goes as far as suggesting you combine three scents of his famous powerhouses (!) or just combine two mantioned in the same line:

via lenoma.ru

Ambre Sultan, Daim Blond, Arabie
Ambre Sultan, Un Bois Vanille, Douce Amère
Ambre Sultan, Fleurs d'Oranger, Datura Noir
Ambre Sultan, Daim Blond, Clair de Musc
Fleurs de Citronnier, A la Nuit, Sa Majesté la Rose
Fleurs de Citronnier, Clair de Musc, Santal Blanc
Fleurs de Citronnier, Fleurs d'Oranger, Datura Noir

In "The Emperor of Smell" by Chandler Burr there is this info on "primaries" of smell, as used by perfumer Jean Claude Ellena :
Banana +Lemon = Jasmine
Mint + Rum = Black currant
Also there is this professional shortcut used by Jean Claude Ellena in his fragrances (more difficult to replicate at home):
isobutyl phenylacetate + vanillin = chocolate

You can also experiment freely with the Jo Malone collection, which was initially specifically designed to be layered. This is most agreeable with the older scents in the line, but they all offer their possibilities.  The same can be said about the single note Diptyque candles or room sprays, for some fragrance layering for the home (or on yourself, most room sprays by Diptyque are safe for use on skin, though you need to do a patch test first just to be sure).

As with everything, have fun and if your experiment ends up not satisfactory, take refuge in the idea that it's only perfume; you can always wash it off and start anew the following day!

New Look & Open Poll

Exactly 63 years ago today, Christian Dior's New Look was introduced on February 12, 1947. The two lines of designs Dior had presented were code-named "Corolla" and "Eight" (including the new "Bar suit" silhouette) but the "New Look" catch-phrase which immortalised this particular silhouette came after Harper's Bazaar 's editor-in-chief Carmel Snow exclaimed after seeing the collection: "It's such a New Look!"


The New Look relied on a signature shape of below-mid-calf length, full-skirt, large bust (unheard of at least since 1912), and small waist. With it came a reprised feminity that had been romanticized anew after the vagaries of the war which had made women more dynamic-looking. And of course the perfumes followed, with the secretly naughty Miss Dior, the fruity chypre Diorama and the radiant Diorissimo in the designer's name, all through others which came in the 1950s and early 1960s by Balmain, Balenciaga, Lentheric, Carven et al, defining an era of petticoat crinolines underneath stiff taffeta whish-whashing their way down the Technicolour avenues of the everyday life. Metaphorically, as well as literally, the style demanded a certain demeanour from its wearer who had to exude some restraint and heaps of natural elegance.

So on to you: Which perfumes do you consider New-Look-compliant and which do you love out of this group?

Photo of Renee sporting the New Look by Dior at Place de la Concorde, Paris 1947, by Richard Avedon. Photo of New Look design via buctopia blog.

Dior-Dior by Christian Dior: fragrance review

Launched by Christian Dior in 1976, four years after the triumph of Diorella and composed by the same nose, the legendary Edmond Roudnitska, Dior-Dior was an astounding commercial flop resulting in its subsequent discontinuation and its firm positioning in the Pantheon of rarities.

It's hard to speculate après le deluge what exactly went wrong. Perhaps it was due to a discrepancy between zeitgeist and the character of the fragrance. By 1976 the advent of emancipated strident chypres as well as the progression from the hippy oils of the late 60s was not simpatico to a woody floral that had pared down the aromatic chypré piquancy of Diorella. And only fairly recently have woody florals for women known a slow resurgence with L'instant Magic, Bond no.9 Andy Warhol Silver Factory, Flower Oriental by Kenzo or the new Sensuous by Lauder and Magnifique by Lancôme.

However, it might also be attributed to the emerging ethos of the fledging perfume marketing: the importance of packaging and bottle being brought to focus much more assertively, the trade aspect getting seriously revved up, perfume being more of a lifestyle object than an objet d'art and copies of copies of things getting produced at a faster rate (although nothing like the alarming avalanche of more recent launches!).
According to Edmond Roudnitska, this resulted in a «olfactive cacophony», lowering of quality and debasement of creativity:

The choice of a perfume can only rest on the competence acquired by education of olfactive taste, by intelligent curiosity and by a desire to understand the WHY and the HOW of perfume. Instead, the public was given inexactitudes and banalities. The proper role of publicity is to assist in the formation of connoisseurs, who are the only worthwhile propagandists for perfume, and it is up to the perfumers to enlighten, orient and direct the publicity agents.

~L'Intimité du Parfum (En collaboration) Olivier PERRIN Editeur, 1974 (availaible at "Sephora" on Champs-Elysées, Paris)

My small, houndstooth-patterned, vintage bottle has a very slightly bruised top note that is neverthless heavy on the indolic, intense aroma of narcissus and white florals, adding the patina of a well-worn, waxed floor with the remnants of cat pee in its cracks . Narcissus naturally extols this aspect, giving a distinctly feral impression which I personally love: from the leathery-laced Fleur de Narcisse by L'Artisan to the paperwhites note in Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker. Mohammud called its scent "bread for the soul" and I can see why: taking in its heady emanation is on the border of pain, it's so intense!

Dior-Dior also serves as a commemorative recapitualtion of a perfumer's artistic path, a simile of olfactory soliloquy: A melon note which Roudnitska put in several of his perfumes (Le Parfum de Thérèse, Diorella) is discernible, although not in the context of the aquatic fragrances of the 90s: melon in a Roudnitska composition seems to serve as a memento of summery laughs in the autumnal mistiness that the chypre base juxtaposes.
And the fresh jasmine odour of hedione/dihydrojasmonate, first copiously used by him in Eau Sauvage, leaps through, with its verdant, metallic cling-clang, puffing out small breathless sighs everytime I move my arms around; the sort of thing that would naturally mingle with the surroundings of white-washed windows and stucco-ed walls in places where iron rust feeds potted gardenias and people eat feta cheese alongside their watermelon.
The last familiar touch comes from the lily of the valley accord that Roudnitska so intently masterminded for his soliflore apotheosis, Diorissimo. (Arguably the only hommage missing is the Prunol base of Femme and the peachy core of Diorama).
Although all the above "notes" sound "clean", in Dior Dior they are neither freshly showered, nor vacuum-sealed. They breathe and deepen into a very feminine and quite urbane fragrance, far removed from Laura Ashley summer dresses, which persists on skin for hours.

For all its charm however Dior-Dior doesn't talk to me the way Roudnitska's more luminiscent creations, such as Diorella or Eau Sauvage, do. Perhaps it's just as well. Still, my bottle is poised alongside its sibling houndstoothed gems with its regal brow highly arched.

Notes: narcissus, muguet (lily of the valley), woods

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Ad pic illustration by Rene Gruau courtesy of Fragrantica. Houndstooth bottle pic courtesy of Musée del Perfum.