Trick or Treat? Top Autumn Fragrances for Any Mood

Which mood is more you? The playful trickster, barefoot and hell-bent on playing mischief to placate the evil Halloween spirits or the mellow pacifist stuffing the mouth with calorific indulgences and the contended smile of "all's good"? Or you can be both, depending on how your day is going. Fragrances can be like that too, you know!
There are scents which are comforting, snuggly like an old favourite jumper when the sky is uninviting, first thing in the morning, and the temperatures are plummeting; a fragrance which smiles at you from within its heavy glass with the sweetness of a kid on a Hallmark card. And there are scents which are devilishly playing tricks on you, requiring that you have either the right attitude or the right weather conditions or the just right outfit (and possibly makeup and jewellery too!) in order to bring out their best; if they want to! But oh, when they do...The latter category might seem like they're ultimately a pain in the butt to have around (what if you look at them in a certain way and they crack from side to side?), but so often they form some of the most satisfying fragrances we possess in our wardrobe. The former... well, they are our fall-back-upon scents and in times like this, this is kinda precious too, don't you agree?
So here is our small selection of "Tricksters and Treaters". Feel free to add yours in the comments!

• THE TRICKSTERS

À Travers le Miroir by Thierry Mugler
A strange tuberose, half-way between carnivorous mentholated flower with bitter touches (reminiscent of a herbal autumn garden) and decaying sweet flesh; yet rather light, if you can imagine that! If you're a man and always wanted to own a tuberose fragrance but found them too Fracas-shouting femme, then this is your bet. Alexis Dadier must be a brave perfumer since he shed tuberose of its black lingerie & berry lipstick to reveal its muscled up (hold the baby oil!) facets. A tuberose of the Tubéreuse Criminelle school of thought!

La Myrrhe by Serge Lutens
Myrrh gum is part of ecclesiastical incense alongside frankincense for millenia. You would expect an oriental, full of resinous mystery, going by the name, right? Lutens goes one better and infuses the bitter ambience of myrrh with candied mandarin rind and citrusy aldehydes which bring this on the upper plane of an airy aldehydic. Somehow it wears lightly but solemnly too and it resembles nothing else on the market. Cool autumn days bring La Myrrhe's attibutes to the fore and it remains amongst my most precious possessions.

Aromatics Elixir by Clinique
It's hard to picture autumn without the imagery of a forest in full regalia, evergreens gaining inches day by day, sepia foliage being trampled underfoot and the promise of fairies in the wings; sorry, behind the mighty oaks, I meant to say... The enchanted forest scentscape of Bernand Chant's masterpiece is among the most challenging, but also among the most complimented and revered, fragrances in the world. If you find difficult to tame this patchouli, rose & oakmoss Godzilla accord in the pure parfum spray, tone it down opting for the Eau de Toilette or Velvet Sheer formulation within the range. Review of Aromatics Elixir on this page and smell-alike on that one.

No.18 by Chanel Les Exclusifs
If you're lucky enough to have this ambrette and rose blend sing on your skin, you're very fortunate. I wish it did on mine and in my memory banks as well. It's probably among the most individual things to come out in the last 10 years and it's quite unique (Although Musc Nomade isn't too far removed in its concept, but the Chanel is more of a subtle perfume than an invisible human aura like the Goutal). Review of No.18 here.

Les Larmes Sacrées de Thèbes by Baccarat
If only because this discontinued limited edition Egyptian beauty will have you scouring the Internet for it but end up paying through the nose (Masochists, please take note! I actually managed to bypass this at a Baccarat boutique when it was available commercially). Somnombulent balsams speek of Egyptian rituals which transport you to a warmer, southern meridian. (Read reviews of all three Baccarat scents for the occasion on this link)



• THE TREATERS

Doblis by Hermès
Doblis is an anomaly: Such a refined composition, the best leather fragrance in the world (and the rarest) just can't be classified in the treaters, where sweet ambers and indulgent gourmands should populate the premises, could it? And yet, Doblis is so silken, so restrained, so smooth, fanning precious flowers onto the most buttery suede, that it transcends into the beatific ecstacy reserved for true excellence. Review of Doblis on this page.

Like This by Etat Libre d'Orange
And the anomalies continue: What is an Etat Libre scent doing in this side of the list? But its welcoming spicy notes of immortelle and ginger and its succulent pumpkin and mandarin heart, set nevertheless in an interesting diorama where one supercedes the other, Like This reads like wise verse by Rumi instead of a Dear Abby column as one would expect; and on top of that it is fronted by the most interesting celebrity to front a fragrance in the last -oh- twenty years...Tilda Swinton! More info on this link.

Shalimar Ode à la Vanille by Guerlain
The smoothness and delicacy of vanilla pods, air-spun here and with a prolonged and rather linear, easy projection of citrus and familiar core. Impossible not to like, impossible to misbehave. More info on this article.

Bois et Musc by Serge Lutens
Autumn can't be autumn without the evocation of woods and this small gem in the Palais Royal Parisian exclusive line by Lutens fulfills the bill admirably, because it highlights both the woody panel of cedar and the skinscent idea of a humane-smelling musk. Simple but very effective and drop-dead sexy. Review of Bois et Musc here.

Coromandel by Chanel Les Exclusifs
Dusty cocoa and refined patchouli to the point that it reads as devoré velvet in shades of deep maroon. Justifiably it's the best-seller in the newer Les Exclusifs (alongside less character-driven, more camel coat & low pumps scent of Beige). Review of Coromandel here.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Comforting scents for when the Going Gets Tough, Falling in Love: Scents & Treats for Fall

Photography by Fred Boissonas in early 20th century Greece: a) Edessa 1908 and b) Kastoria Kleisoura manor 1911.

Chanel Gardenia vintage vs. modern Les Exclusifs Gardenia: fragrance review & history

The original Gardénia, issued by Chanel in 1925 and composed by legendary perfumer Ernest Beaux who created all the early opi/opera of Chanel, was built on a fashion premise: The deco motifs of the 1920s exalted the almost cubist arrangement of flower petals, resulting in designs which were transported into impressive jewellery. Gardénia was not conceived as, nor was it meant to be, a gardenia soliflore, although the heavy-smelling blossom was picked thanks to its optical resemblance to Mademoiselle Chanel's favourite flower: the camelia, which doesn't hold a scent. The name in reality derives from the English word "garden" (it's jardin in French): a popular reference of the times, especially if we recall the Shalimar story and the gardens of Lahore that made the imagination run wild. That was then.

But gardenia fragrances in particular re-entered the consciousness of the public with a vengeance in the next decade, the 1930s, in a different manner. This was a time of financial difficulties and a more conservative cultural milieu, when every company was launching or re-issuing their own gardenia fragrance; advertising them as a return to neo-romanticism, the gardenia boutonnières of Edwardian dandies and the gardens in the South of France which provided welcome escapism. Indeed an American advertisement for Chanel Gardénia mentions how it's meant to evoke romantic gardens at the Riviera and tags it as a youthful fragrance. [Chanel is no stranger to capitalizing on advertising to promote specific perceptions of their products, as it famously did with No.5.]
It was 1936 after all when the hit song "These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)" by Eric Maschwitz & Jack Starchey included the infamous lyric "gardenia perfume lingering on a pillow"...alongside "an airplane ticket to romantic places". Is it any wonder that in the economically "tough" decade of the 1970s Brian Ferry & Roxy Music chose to bring this song back doing their own cover on it (1973)? Chanel would eventually bring their Gardénia back from the dead too; but almost two decades later. And as recently as the end of the 2000s yet again, this time in their boutique line Les Exclusifs where's it's still available.

Olfactorily, the two versions cannot be any more different, providing a valuable history lesson for any inquisitive perfume lover:

The vintage Chanel Gardénia was composed on a narcissus base with a green accent of styrallyl acetate; a freshly green note, naturally present in budding gardenias and a very popular inclusion in many classic floral chypres: It provides the gardenia greeness in the heart which compliments the mossiness of the background, from Miss Dior to Ma Griffe. The trick of composing a "gardenia chord" instead of using an extract from nature was necessitated by technical complications: No essence could be rendered (till very, very recently in fact and then only in some extremely limited distribution niche fragrances). The gardenia in the hands of Chanel is oscillating between green and creamy, as it's allied to other white florals with a powdery veil.
The top note of the vintage Gardénia however is surprising in that it's built on a violet accent, composed through octin and heptin methyl carbonate. The progression from the sweeter violet to the feminine floral harmony in the heart, featuring natural jasmine, makes for a rounder experience with woodier base notes recalling those in Chanel's own Bois des Îles or even Coty's Imprevu, with a spicy whiff of vetiver lingering.
The vintage came in extrait de parfum (a very round and feminine smell) and later Eau de Toilette in the standard square bottles with the round black screw-on cap. Opening one, made me realise how different the perceptions of a floral were in those eras back contrasted with today: Although I can feel the delicate rendering of petals, there is no immediate "department-store atmosphere" of a hundred florals sprayed simultaneously into the air. Drop by drop, it's silky and polished, like a strand of patina rose pearls in slightly differing diameter.

The original version of Gardenia circulated well into the 1950s, but it disappeared at some point when other Chanel fragrances such as No.19 and Cristalle entered the scene. Sometimes the labels did not have the French accent aigu for the American market.
An effort was made to bring it back alongside the more faithfully rendered classics Cuir de Russie and Bois des Iles in the Chanel "Rue Cambon" exclusive boutique circuit at the cusp of the 1990s: Regrettably, it was the least resistant link in the chain, accounting for a rather destitute white floral. The bottle in extrait was rectangular with a white label like standard Chanel extraits (depicted) and the colour of the juice a light yellow. There was also a limited edition Eau de Toilette in a rectangular bottle edged in gold, with white label and white cap in the 1990s (shown on the right).




The modern version of Gardénia as part of Chanel Les Exclusifs more upscale line, reworked by Jacques Polge, conforms to the latest regulations and changing tastes. Thus it is comparatively much thinner, stretched to its limit, based on a standard white floral chord with fresh & green jasmine/hedione, "clean" orange blossom cologne-ish notes and just a smidgen of tuberose (and absolutely no gardenia whatsoever). A delicate vanilla base is the only other detectable note, very light and soft without much sweetness. The fragrance's popularity and reception is no doubt accounted by its transparent and easy demeanor which lends itself easily to any wearer. There is a young, ice-princess vibe about it, rather classy in its sex-denying way.

It leaves something to be desired in fulfilling a powerful romantic imagery and rather much in providing an avant-garde entry in the field of white florals (which it could have tried if it wanted to); but its wearability provides options for casual & office wearing, which is more than can be said for some of the more sumptuous and demanding vintages. Among Les Exclusifs, in Eau de Toilette concentration with an even paler colour of juice than before, Gardénia is also one of the most fleeting, making for a brief experience that needs to be constantly renewed.

Notes for Chanel Gardénia: jasmine, gardenia, orange blossom, tuberose, clove, sage, pimento, musk, patchouli, sandalwood and vetiver.


Ella Fitzerald sings These Foolish Things


And Brian Ferry reprises it in his own innimitable style in a rare 1974 video.

pic of vintage parfum via musclecars.net. Ebay & stock bottle photos. Pearl necklace & gardenia extrait bottle via the Romantic Query Letter.

Chanel Les Exclusifs Beige: fragrance review

Beige evokes different things for different people: from the suave to the anodyne all the way to lackluster, it is a neutral nuanced enough to escape the unambiguous reactions to black or white. Although the adjective has degenerated into invoking a blah response in the current vernacular, beige can be approached with the silent admiration that a honey-blonde with golden skin clad in a basic trenchcoat and heels can provoke in those of us with an eye for such things. Beige is thus baptised the new fragrance by Chanel to join the upscale line Les Exclusifs, modern compositions that interpret the olfactory heritage of Chanel to varying degrees. In house perfumers Jacques Polge and Chris Sheldrake envisioned a litany of shades for a completely new interpretation of an old rarity: Beige by Chanel was one of the rare vintage fragrances that hark back to the days of Gabrielle Chanel herself and formed a holy triad: Rouge, Bleue, Beige, inspired by her collection of dresses in red/blue/beige in jersey but also echoing the triptych of the French flag colours.

Coco turned beige into a symbol of elegance: "I take refuge in beige because it's natural". I distinctly recall that over a decade ago, this was used in the advertising surrounding the release of Allure Eau de Toilette (a different composition than the monodimensional vanillic indulgence of the Eau de Parfum). Contrary to usual packaging practices at Chanel, the box was not in the traditional white of the numerotical fragrances No.5, No. 22, No.19 or of Cristalle. Nor was it the arresting black of baroque oriental Coco: it was beige! At the time the press release insisted that the choice had been made exactly to pay hommage to one of Coco Chanel's favorite colors.
Perhaps the most successful and discreetly seductive use of beige has been in Chanel's trademark two-toned shoes, originally conceived as slingbacks in 1957, which she called souliers. Raymond Massaro, the shoemaker attached to the house, along with his father, was responsible for production at that time. Beige provided optical lengthening of the calf, while the black, slightly sqaure toe shortened the foot, making feet look dainty. Their discreetly fetishistic sensuality is ladylike, alluding to nude smooth skin without any trace of vulgarity. It makes me think of images of Jean Shrimpton in Melbourne, ladylike prim in her minidress and two-toned Chanel flats, and the tactile curves of suave luxury cars. Exactly what Beige by Chanel is all about!

Hawthorn or aubépine, the leitmotif in Beige, is rendered synthetically in perfumes for several decades. Produced via anisic aldehyde* (p-methoxy benzaldehyde) it has been sublimely woven into the gauzy cloth of Après L’Ondée by Guerlain (where it sings along with heliotropin), which Beige indirectly references. The fluffy, almondy "note" is also used in many contemporary fragrances, from the top note allied to violets of Paris by Yves Saint Laurent to niche offerings L'eau d'Hiver by F.Malle and Daim Blond by Serge Lutens. This shady, dusty smell that borders on a wistful gourmand resembles the tender caress of a godmother fulfilling much anticipated wishes. Much like the latter fragrances Beige resolutely eschews retro allusions to enter the territory of modern compositions. Sketched around this core the sparkling, fresh, lathery ambience of a note that resembles lily of the valley synthetic approximations and the discreet garland of tropical blooms frangipani and ylang-ylang -alluding to No.5 Sensual Elixir- reveal a creamy sensuality gaining momentum slowly.

But the most surprising effect of Beige (and I am astonished I am the first to notice it) comes when you have waited for it for a couple of hours to dry on skin or blotter: the final accord is very much that of Infusion d'Iris by Prada! The woody powdery effect resembles Ambré 83, a sweet base produced by Laboiratoires De Laire that focuses on benzoin, vanilla and honey, diluted five-fold. De Laire, founded in 1878, is famous for producing among other things the bases Prunol, Bouvardia and the infamous Mousse de Saxe for parfums Caron. Ambré 83 is the perfect bridge for perfumes with rich floral parts, such as L'eau de Circé by Parfumerie Generale and sometimes contributes to the linear effect of fragrances. Beige sustains the powdery woody effect for a long time, although it might benefit in terms of initial emotional response if made into a denser concentration, such as extrait de parfum.

If Chanel aimed at providing an instantly approachable, modern and restrained fragrance, they have undoubtedly succeeded. Much like Infusion d'Iris, with its feminine flounces coupled with masculine sparsness, Beige will appeal to women and men alike, floral-lovers as well as floral-haters and will prove to be a best-seller. Personally I would have liked if it included the black toe of the Chanel shoes that provides the arresting counterpoint. But for that I can revert to the more individual smokiness of Sycomore.

Official Notes for Chanel Beige: hawthorn, freesia, frangipani, honey.

Beige bu Chanel comes in the austere bottles of Les Exclusifs, in 200ml of Eau de Toilette. It's currently a Saks exclusive but later will be featured in all the usual places where Les Exclusifs are exclusively available.

*Anisic Aldehyde results upon oxidation of anethol which is contained in anise oil, star anise oil and fennel oil. It's also present in the extract of Tahiti vanilla and in Roman and French cassie blossom oils.

Photo "Beige Swede against beige wall", courtesy of Trudy/flickr. Pic of Beige bottle via press release. Pic of Chanel two-tone Mary Janes through Ebay.

Guerlain Les Parisiennes exclusive line: New Developments, Discontinuations & Look

Anyone who receives the Guerlain catalogue for the year has witnessed a change in one of the most acclaimed lines in the historic brand's portfolio, namely Les Parisiennes, the depository of the older creations by Jean-Paul Guerlain and other perfumers working for the brand, producing a range that is esteemed as refined luxury. A change which unfolds three ways: Two additions to the line (one ressurected from a limited edition of 10 years ago, the other slightly less), some discontinuations and a new look for the masculine side of the venerable stable.

To be specific...



Two additions in Guerlain "Les Parisiennes" boutique-only line (125 ml including removable atomizer for 180 €):

Nuit de Amour we had announced being re-issued and joining Les Parisiennes in the standard "bee bottle" instead of the original quadrilobe a while ago on this article. Now comes Cherry Blossom eau de toilette. Originally a limited edition from 2000 in the Louis XV flacon(seen above) that also housed Apres L'Ondee extrait, it was created for the sakura season that is celebrated in Japan. [There was also Cherry Blossom Delight from 1999]. The Guerlain fragrance included cherry blossom, green tea and lemon notes to honor the oriental tradition of lightness and happiness at the coming of spring. The re-issued fragrance was originally signed by Jean Paul Guerlain and is not to be confused with the Aqua Allegoria line's Cherry Blossom (pic when you click here), another interpretation of sakura complimented by a whole makeup collection by the same name issued in spring 2010 .

Two discontinuations in Guerlain "Les Parisiennes" boutique-only line:

Regarding Attrape Coeur (see its other incarnations on this page) we had broken the news on its being pulled off the plug a long while ago. Now that stocks have dried up, it's officially missing from the new 2011 catalogue. Sad...

The other fragrance regretably missing is Philtre d'Amour, which we also had hinted in perfume discussion online that it would be pulled off the market in the near future, the reason being its formula not being possible to conform to IFRA restrcitions (read more on those here).

Of course there is also the by now rare super-refined (chypre-smelling) Plus Que Jamais missing, but we knew that already.



A new look for the masculine "Les Parisiens" (100 ml for 175 €), now Les Exclusifs:

Joining the wooden "frame" of Arsène Lupin Dandy and Arsène Lupin Voyou (both in Eau de Parfum and described on this article), the masculine side of the exclusive line by Guerlain becomes homogenised in looks and stated as Les Exclusifs. The former members of Les Parisiennes intended for the delight of discerning gentlement now will not be featured in the dainty glass bottles with the boule cap and the bees but will come in the more virile-looking oblongs instead.
Thus the Guerlain Les Parisiennes line for men (or is it Les Parisiens?) will comprise:

*Derby (eau de toilette)
*Chamade pour Homme (eau de toilette)
*L'Âme d'un Héros eau de toilette (formerly known as Coriolan
*Arsène Lupin Dandy (eau de parfum) and
*Arsène Lupin Voyou (eau de parfum).

The price per ml is thus rather significantly raised (125 ml for 180€ for the feminine Les Parisiennes vs 100 ml for 175€ for the masculines), a feat not completely justified by the change in packaging I feel.

NB. The international site hasn't been renovated yet to reflect the changes.

A full review & draw for Arsène Lupin Dandy shortly!

A Special Homage: Coco Chanel

Today would have been Coco Chanel's birthday, had she been around and withstanding the scrutiny for her infamous past. No matter what anyone has to say about the lady herself and her tumultous personal life, her enduring style has really changed the way we see fashion and how women dress themselves. That's you see the advantage of avant-garde; making history.

via

Chanel's characteristic use of jersey fabric, pants for women, that do not resemble the harem, the trademark quilted handbags, two-toned pumps, pearls and costume jewelry, the freedom of fluidity & movement in her jackets, the stark usefulness of neutral colors such as beige, white, black and navy and her philosophy of function vs. decoration have made Chanel an icon of the 20th century and a true liberator of women from the constrictive garments of La Belle Epoque. We owe her that much.

Her fragrances of course couldn't but follow her unerring sense of style. The famous Chanel no.5 was followed by many others, notably No.19 commemorating her birthday on August 19th. This is what I am wearing myself today, reveling in both its sharp galbanum and vetiver cutting through the humidity (thick like it could be cut with a knife) and luxurious enough with its orris background.

So in her own honor, please find some related articles of mine on her style, beauty advice, iconography and of course perfumes.
And please share your own experiences with Chanel beauty & perfumes in the comments!

Coco by Chanel: fragrance review

Chanel No.19 & Heure Exquise: Twin Peaks

On Classifying Chanel No.19 & perfume review 

What's the True Story of Chanel No.5?

Cultural history: Exposition Chanel

Chanel No.5 Through the Years

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire: Imaginative Fantasies

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: fragrance review [And a collective Chanel Les Exclusifs link.]

Chanel Beige: new addition to Les Exclusifs?

It's uncanny how one comes across the most shocking and astounding news sometimes. Forcing us to interrupt what is a series of posts on something particular even! On hindsight, since I am about to talk about Sycomore by Chanel later on (as it is a vetiver-based scent after all), maybe it isn't that irrelevant as it seemed at first.
But let's revert to how I found out about it. There I was casually reading one of the blogs I visit often, Perfume Posse, and LizS posted this:
"I was jogging by Saks in NYC last night, and they have in the window all the les exclusifs by Chanel. There is a HUGE poster of one called BEIGE. its sitting next to the bottle of Sycomore. New Release?? I can’t find out any info online…has anyone else heard of this? I hadn’t been to Saks this weekend despite seeing the window displays, I guess I didn’t notice the name on the bottle".

Of course Beige by Chanel was one of the rare vintage fragrances that hark back to the days of Gabrielle Chanel herself and formed a holy triad: Rouge, Bleue, Beige. According to Octavian Coifan, fragrance and fashion historian:

"Chanel created in 1929 a very fresh spring collection with dresses in red/blue/beige in jersey (a sport style with stripes and geometric pattern) as depicted in a Vogue review from that year. In the same year Jean Patou launched Le Sien, the "unisex" perfume (chypre) that was inspired also by the sport spirit. Chanel and Patou promoted in those years a day fashion inspired by sports, with geometric patterns and young look. Maybe Chanel wanted to answer Patou's sport perfume (Le Sien = Her's) with her famous colours - red, blue and beige - used in jersey's sport dresses. But those perfumes are also an echo of the French Flag (bleu, blanc, rouge)".

The fragrance itself is described as echoing the composition of No.5 (much like the other two in the triptych do), yet the resulting scent being like a cross between Vol de Nuit and Arpege (which is formidable I bet!). The basic chord seems to be jasmine, orris and amber.

So what is happening? Is Chanel planning on re-introducing their old Beige (and maybe eventually more older compositions) in their Les Exclusifs lineup? Or are they changing the formula enough not to resemble the vintage, very rare juice, like they did with the chic Sycomore? (another defunct Chanel from the days of Mademoiselle). Are Bleu and Rouge next?
And why are they aiming these splurgingly luxurious fragrances at the American audiences first? May I remind you that the equally quitessential house of Guerlain went the same route with their exclusive editions of Cruel Gardénia and Spirituese Double Vanille...which is interesting in terms of marketing, to say the least.
The plot thickens; mark my words!

Pic of Beige by Chanel courtesy of Octavian Coifan.

Bel Respiro from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

In continuation of examining Chanel Les exclusifs a little bit closer, one cannot but notice that they are all inspired and drawing elements from olfactory creations past from the archives of the house.
Bel Respiro is another similar case, as is 28 La Pausa -discussed yesterday- in its own way as well.

Named after one of Mlle. Chanel's houses on the outskirts of Paris Bel Respiro is meant "to evoke stems, leaves and springtime". Does it succeed in this endeavour? It does in part. It draws inspiration by the verdancy of both Chanel#19 and some aspects of Cristalle, especially in the eau de parfum formulation (which incidentally was meant as a completely different interpretation of the theme of the old Eau de toilette by the addition of floral elements such as honeysuckle and lily of the valley, advertised with the tag line "Cristalle grows up!" when it launched in 1993). Even the vetiver drydown of Chance is making a hushed appareance, which in my opinion is Chance's one redeeming quality and the reason it just escapes from being irrecovably linked to my mind to images of teen girls sucking on a fruity lollipop.

The green bite of galbanum, a stemmy aroma that according to perfume guru Arctander evokes "green peppers or tossed green salad" is present lending a bracing start in the vein of Sisley's Eau de Campagne (devised by Jean Claude Ellena) or the classic Vent Vert by Germain Cellier. However the effect is much more timid in Bel Respiro, as if they are a little afraid to frighten the customer with too much of a herbal smell that would clash with their bourgeois attire. Despite that hesitation the start does evoke languid summer days, lying on the grass, the breeze through one's hair, not a care in the world.

This is soon betrayed by the homogenous sweetness that is prevalent in almost all of the new Exclusifs and is obeying to the dictatorship of the wearable. Of course for a scent to be wearable is not a fault per se. It's the relative lack of daring imagination that is a little disappointing to witness, because my expectations were so high. The sweetness is not unpleasant, it is classy with a promise of creaminess, however the lack of depth that is usually associated with creamy florals makes this pale and rather limp, as if it features an aqueous quality that I thought had been long abandoned (but I guess is not). It also gives the impression of a sweet posy of hyacinths subtly smelled across the numerous rooms of a grand mansion, decaying slowly in their vase. Don't get me wrong, I like a slight hint of decay and death in floral fragrances, but in this particular case the discrepancy between herbal opening and sweet drydown does not excite me. The minimalism displayed in the whole line is not convicing in its bouquet.

Chanel #19 and Cristalle in eau de parfum (also by Polge) succeed much more in marrying the deep emerald accords with the lush florancy, giving complexity and substance that sadly Bel respiro lacks. If Bel Respiro had that divine quality which I am seeking it would resemble the luminous feathered tail of a peacock.

It is not a bad fragrance; in fact if I had to choose, I think along with 28 La Pausa and Coromandel (contrary to my initial unsniffed expectations), they would be safe choices that correspond to most of my lifestyle's situations I envision them to be worn. However, to tell you the truthm I am not so keen on purchasing a full bottle of Bel Respiro simply for the reason that I am deeply enamoured of Chanel#19 which satisfies me on every possible level. Nice try, however!

Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site

Le Labo Aldehyde 44: fragrance review

The aliphatic aldehydes string of Chanel No.5 is what is termed "aldehydic" in perfumery parlance and characterises a whole sub-group within the floral fragrance family: C10, C11, C12 aldehydes to be exact, creating an accord so memorable it has pervaded fragrance mores for decades. [If you don't know what aldehydes are, refer to this article]. Le Labo's take in Aldehyde 44 is more inspired by the sweeter, soapier, more snowy-capped mountains seen flying above in lesser known (and more American-geared) Godzilla-aldehydic Chanel No.22 and equally American "sharp clean" White Linen by Estee Lauder than muskier-sexier-dirtier (aka Frenchier) No.5 however. Perhaps the fact that it's a Dallas,TX city-exclusive (only Dallas inhabitants and visitors of the city's Le Labo boutique at Barneys can partake of the sprakling waters!) is not totally random as imagined.This is a clean, rested, posh fragrance; depilated, smoothed and hosed and full of energy, not languor.

The opening in the Le Labo fragrance is so old-fashioned elegant and prim in its sharp biting "sparkle", with its citrusy-waxy fat top note, you will be doing a double take to see whether you have been magically transported back to 1955 and wearing a whale-boned petticoat under your skirt. But the perfume is modern, in more ways than one.
The progression is seamless and sustainaibly sour aldehydic into a somewhat metallic musky floralcy in the base, without either too much sweetness or woodiness (The idea of musk at Le Labo can be perversely illusionary anyway, as attested in Musc 25. Perfumer Yann Vasnier is using ambrettolide here in Aldehyde 44, which is a macrocyclic musk, very refined, soapy smelling-fruity in character).
What is characteristic is there is no powderiness in Aldehyde 44, as associated with other retro fragrances that utilize irones and ionones (iris and violets) to denote cosmetic products and old-school face powder. Instead it's citrusy waxy-soapy-fatty, it makes me think it's what an hypothetical child between Ivoire by Balmain and White Linen would be like: the green sudsy oiliness of the former meets the fatty sweetness of the latter, the rosy facets taking on a peppery bite with lots of buds' green, a hint of pear fruit in there too.

If you read that Aldehyde 44 contains woods and vanilla and imagine a comforting scent, you will are in for a nasty surprise: the woods only come from the C12 aldehyde (a pollen-rooty, lilac scent) and the silvery refracting amber synthetic; while the citrusy touches are reminiscent of bitterish, tangy orange rind (which has a resinous quality, not unlike some incense blends) and not marmelade. The floral notes cannot be taken apart, it's an abstract blend where no note rises above the rest. Aldehyde 44 possesses "sweetness" of another kind altogether and it can only be compared to that encountered in No.22 (especially in its less incense-y modern incarnation as part of Les Exclusifs in Eau de toilette) or the classic Lauder referenced above. The sillage is civilized, but definitely there, and the lasting power very good. Lovers of the elegant polished genre, rejoice, this is a well-crafted example; perhaps not totally necessitating the ouchy price-tag nevertheless.

The offficial Le Labo presentation states: "Aldehyde 44 is a small wonder that sits tight between an aldehyde overdose, that gives this scent a unique cleanliness to it, a sublime floral composition that is built around Naracissus, Jasmin, and Tuberose (all Absolute in case you wandered), and a bed of muscs tied with a hint of vanilla. The result is esthetically admirable and unique".

Aldehyde 44 by Le Labo features fragrance notes of: aldehydes, tuberose absolute, jasmine sambac, narcissus absolute, woods, vanilla and musk.

Le Labo Aldehyde 44 is a Dallas, TX city-exclusive, retailing at $290 for 50ml, but only for the month of November it is globally available at Luckyscent and on the official Le Labo site.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:  Le Labo reviews & news , Aldehydes: what they are, how do they smell, where do they shine, Aldehydic fragrances

photo of Cyd Charisse

Lancome Magnifique: fragrance review and musings

C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre. (It is magnificent, but it isn't war).
~Pierre Bosquet

Lancôme presented their latest fragrance Magnifique to the press featuring their new ambassador, actress Anne Hathaway, at the Grand Palais in Paris. Talented and pretty stars are nothing new in the Lancôme galaxy and their previous choice of Kate Winslet as new face of Trésor had me enraptured. Hathaway (who had professed a predeliction for Chanel's Chance) is equally lovely in a Snow White suit instead.
Magnifique set out to olfactively interpret the colour red, from the bottle, to the colour scheme of Hathaway's dress, to the admitedly cheddar-heavy US print-ad. Hence to avoid the latter factor, I chose a picture from the upcoming Peter-Lindberg-directed commercial, in which Hathaway poses as a cross between a Nikolaos Gyzis and Edward Hopper model.

Technically, Magnifique is a spicy woody floral, composed by Firmenich perfumers Olivier Cresp and Jacques Cavallier (a collaborating duo on many popular fragrances).
The inspiration, according to Woman's Wear Daily was Nargamotha/cypriol (Cyperus scariosus). Nagarmotha is a plant of the Cyperaceae family, also called Nagar Mustaka, which grows wild in the Madhya Pradesh region of India. Highly-prized for its roots, it is often used in compounding perfumes (especially since it acts as a fixative and is quite economical), in the manufacturing of soaps and incense sticks, as an insect repellent and for medicinal purposes. Associated with milkweed, Indian nard, jatamansi and fekhand, it appears in the spells of Vashikarana: It's said that a man applying it to his forehead is assured of a long series of successful love affairs!
Steam distillation of the tubers of cypriol yields 0.075-0.080% of an essential oil, the principal content of which is cyperine. The smell of nagarmotha is woody, earthy and quite lingering; it mostly conjures a hybrid between cedar, vetiver and patchouli, with fleeting touches of cinnamon and frankincense giving a churchy feel.
Reportedly, Cresp and Cavallier came upon it while in India and liked it so much that they opted to include its essential oil in their Magnifique fragrance. Somehow this is my first stumble: really? Such acclaimed and experienced perfumers were unaware of this old ingredient and just now discovered it?

What is naughty is that there is a perfume product thus named, produced by Innospec:

"A group of fragrance industry experts has given an enthusiastic review to three of Innospec's products- Cypriol, Vetimoss, and Verdirosa. The occasion was the British Society of Perfumery symposium, held last month [July] at Towcester. Lester Bowman, head of Innospec Active Chemicals for Europe, the Middle East and Africa gave a talk to the group, and Peter Whipps, a freelance perfume expert presented the three fragrances. Cypriol, which has a spicy floral fragrance, was presented in a linden blossom room spray and peach base, where it confers the rich, natural aroma of real flowers. As well as offering good odour of its own, Cypriol has a substantial floralising effect on any fragrance".

(Source Innospec)

Cypriol has been rather popular lately: a component of the latest Musc Nomade by Annick Goutal as well as Dzongha by L'artisan (where it is noted as a Papyrus note, Cyperus Papyrus, a member of the same family), Rose Kashmirie by Parfums de Rosine, the newest By Killian Prelude to Love, and Tom Ford for Men ~latter claimed to be the first to use cypriol: "that slightly dirty, sensual, sexy smell...It's not the same as natural musk used to be, but it has a bit of something that some people would think slightly dirty...I think it's warm and sensual." That claim is of course an euphemism, to put it politely: they probably publicized the fact first, since cypriol use goes as far back as Xeryus, a floral woody semi-oriental masculine by Givenchy, developped by Firmenich, in 1986! And if I am not too mistaken in Eau d'Issey pour Homme too in 1994. They're seriously putting us on, it seems!

To revert to Magnifique and how it smells, Lancôme didn't veer off far on their use of their emblematic rose, a note used in most of their fragrances under one guise or another (with the exception of mighty crispy O de Lancome): many perfume lovers report a profound love for Mille et une Roses, while the peachy-rosy Trésor has its own ardent fans.
There is indeed a round rose nuance in Magnifique that veers into fruity-jammy; still, the fragrance is not considerably floral, less so rosy in the flowers-on-the-stem kind. Rather Magnifique starts as a lightly effervescent, spiked-soda sort of fragrance,with a light peppery bite and sweet fruity tonalities defying the listed cumin, as the fragrance does not present any sweaty side at all. Nor is it especially woody, which is a suprise after all the insistence on that aspect, although the nagarmotha essence does make a solid appearence; the woods are pale, pleasantly powdered but ultimately vacant-eyed and unchallenging, ready to smile and strike their best side for the camera (and yes, they do know which is their best one!). If you have watched "Diary of a Princess" with the lovely Hathaway, they're the "after" part, even though the "before" wasn't that wild either...

"The challenge was to work on wood", Cresp claimed nevertheless. Why challenge? Due to the slim number of woody juices aimed at women, since woody notes are traditionally regarded as masculine. There is of course a handful which are excellent and not masculine-smelling at all: the iconic Bois des Iles by Chanel, intent on sandalwood; the notorious Feminité du Bois by Shiseido or Dolce Vita by Dior, both focused on cedar. Then again there are fragrances that pose an androgynous spin such as the chic Sycomore, the latest in Chanel's unisex Les Exclusifs line, fleshing out vetiver.
A similar risk was taken by Lauder's newest feminine, Sensuous, a very similar to Magnifique ~albeit milkier and heavier~ composition which tries to change the demographic to a lower age group than the typical Lauder clientele according to Chandler Burr.
Therefore the challenge seems to be on the business side more than on the olfactory one!

There appear to be segments of other ideas in Magnifique: the sweet patchouli vibe of Attraction, Lancome's own less successful previous release from 2003 (which might illustrate the fact that discarded mods never trully get discarded ~and please consider the discontinued lactonic woody Feu d'Issey by Cavallier there too, will you?), or the fruity woodiness of Gucci by Gucci; maybe even the jammy earthiness of Rabanne's Black XS, as well as Dior's Midnight Poison or Elle by Yves Saint Laurent (latter two notably by the same noses).
Which brings me to an interesting question: what segregates some of the above as "modern chypres" in taxonomy, while Magnifique is a "woody"? The edges blurr in my mind and it seems to me that "woody" has now become just fancy jargon to denote edginess, a sort of fashionista It-term; I predict we will be hearing it often from now on, mark my words.
Furthermore, woody fragrances often cross borders in niche lines, being shared by both sexes, which brings me to my next point: The derivative aspect of mainstream brands trying to replicate niche trends is a manifestation of both the market's oversaturation with offerings that focus on tired vogues (the avalanche of fruity florals and trite gourmand vanillas for women, the conventional citrus woodies and screechy marines for men) as well as the desire to tap into the pool of perfume lovers who scout the micro-niche lines for something different, but cannot always have it readily accessible due to exclusivity.

Magnifique is commendable for turning its back on tired concepts. It can thus be viewed as a step in a good direction, but also as the height of cynicism in fragrance business in view of the above. I will give them the benefit of the doubt for now and hope that more companies in the mainstream sector try to diversify.

Official Notes: mandarin, saffron essence, cumin, cinnamon, Bulgarian Rose essence, absolute of Rose Mai de Grasse, jasmine, Australian Sandalwood essence, Indian nagarmotha, vetiver.

Magnifique comes in 50ml/1.7oz and 75ml/2.4oz of Eau de Parfum concentration (with accompanying Bath Cream and Body Lotion in 200ml containers) and has just launched in the US (initially as an exclusive to Bloomingdale's). It will be available around the world in September through major department stores.

For those able to read French, please visit my good friend S. on Ambre Gris for another view.

Pic of Anne Hathaway courtesy of I'm not Obsessed.Bottle pic courtesy of Fragrantica.

Coromandel from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

In the whole line of Les Exclusifs, one scent stands as trully lasting and sillage worthy. It's Coromandel, a dry ambery oriental advertised as "an oriental fragrance using a tree resin called benzoin, which has vanilla-like properties" inspired by the chinese lacquered panels that were abundant in Chanel's apartment, Coromandel denoting the company producing them and not the style of the panels.
The baroque appartment of Gabrielle/Coco Chanel on Rue Cambon, although not her place of actual abode (she used to stay at the homonymous suite at the Ritz in Paris), served as a background drop of her innermost luxury hedonist. And it was the basis of inspiration for another one of Jacques Polge's perfumes, Coco original, a spicy oriental, back in 1984. In it indeed a very opulent composition is evoking odalisques spread on leather sofas, weighted down by copious amounts of bronze and antique gold jewels.

Coromandel is described as "not innocent", as it is "weighted by frankincense" and "contains a hint of the heavier spices of the East".
Although I am a spicy oriental type, this sounded a bit like a rehash of Coco, of which for better or worse I a not a great fan and so before sampling I was almost certain that it would be too much for me, reserving instead my expectations for no.18. It soon proved that I was mistaken.
The initial impression is that of a citrusy, orange-like pipe tobacco mix rolled in powder, much like the one encountered upon meeting that vixen little scent called Fifi by lingerie designer Fifi Chachnil or a slightly less milky Fumerie Turque. In fact it could very well be a similar idea to that explored by the newer Burberry London for men.
Perhaps the orange impression derives from the inclusion of frankincense, a resin that sometimes gives off a sweet citric tang while burning.
A sweet lush note throughout is echoing subtly like vanilla pods immersed in fruity liquor and it opens up and expands on the wings of aged patchouli, mellow, soft, sweet and inviting. It would seem like the most glorious thing, if it were not for it being a little derivative of their Allure Sensuelle with a touch of Borneo by Serge Lutens and Prada thrown in for good measure. The influence Angel has had on the market in general is astounding to behold! Never mind that my favourite patchouli ever is Film Noir by Ayala Moriel.
Yet where Borneo is an inconoclastic dark patchouli laced with dark roasted coffee and Prada is an insolent single-minded young rebel that wants to shock her conservative environment in a relatively safe way, much like Muicia herself liked to do, Allure Sensuelle and consequently Coromandel do not dare push the envelope even in playful jest. They are not terribly innovative, although between the two Coromandel is much more complex and alluring.

Luckily, the pervading dryness along with just a touch of frankincense for a sense of mystery, not showcasing amber in any great degree all the while, provides a great balance to the sweeter vanilla elements and makes the whole not puff up in blue clouds of smoke, but stay the night on warm skin and well used sheets.
Sexy, yet not terribly imaginative. A cinnabar-hued brocade jacket, upper button undone with black camelia Chanel earrings. C'est ça!

Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

Sycomore by Chanel: fragrance review

"Do you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss, Beauty?
Your gaze, divine and infernal,
Pours out confusedly benevolence and crime,
And one may for that, compare you to wine ...
From God or Satan, who cares? Angel or Siren,
Who cares, if you make— fay with the velvet eyes,

Rhythm, perfume, glimmer; my one and only queen!
The world less hideous, the minutes less leaden?"
~Hymn to Beauty, Charles Baudelaire

In 1930, Coco Chanel had a dream: she envisioned the perfect, most beautiful woody perfume that was baroque in feeling, yet bore no frills. The result, Sycomore, a 'woody scent with balsamic notes' composed by her Russian perfumer Ernest Beaux, was not appreciated in its time and soon disappeared. Just shy of 80 years in the making, Jacques Polge and Christopher Sheldrake, resident noses at Chanel, recomposed the woody vision of mademoiselle Coco and the finished fragrance forms part of Les Exclusifs ~Chanel's prestige line. The two however do not bear any similarity: The vintage Sycomore had "a distinct tobacco-violet note and all the other elements (few) built to enhance this idea" according to Octavian Coifan while in comparison the new version is very much centered around true vetiver; and a smokey one at that.
In many ways it is a departure from the other iris-ladden Les Exclusifs which affirm their Chanel pedigree by use of costly raw materials evoking segments of previous successes of the brand. Sycomore does not.

Sycomore instead emphasizes its aristocratic dryness of humble origin with a tangy grapefruit opening and subtly cooling, clean muguet notes that complement the Haitian vetiver variety, also used in Guerlain Vétiver, so well. Almost simultaneously it allows soft impressions of a warm incense cloud slowly setting upon evergreen needles and rooty dirt (a la Route de Vétiver by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier) to uplift you into a wistful and introspective contemplation of life and mortality. And if you lower your head and pay attention to its murmur, a resinous, only marginally sweet touch of the licorice note that naturally arises in several distillations of the material itself, slightly reminiscent of Dior's Eau Noire drydown, vibrates at a low frequency, along with woodfire smoke.

Officially marketed as feminine for women who do not like flowery compositions, yet cunningly poised between the two sexes, it has an hermaphrodite side that whispers of something mysteriously chic, chastetly beautiful and utterly unattainable; like Björn Andrésen, the youth Tadzio in Luchino Visconti's 1971 "Death in Venice" (the film adaptation of Thomas Mann's masterful novel).
His remarkable androgynous beauty prompted feminist Germaine Greer to use a photograph of Andrésen on the cover of her book "The Beautiful Boy" (2003). She would have approved of a scent strip of Sycomore tucked in there too.



The musical score is Gustav Mahler's "Adagietto" from his 5th Symphony.

Notes for Sycomore (2008) by Chanel: Vetiver, cypress, juniper, pink pepper, smoke, burning woods.

Sycomore is available at $190 for 200ml Eau de Toilette exclusively at Chanel boutiques. Considering it uncharacteristically lasts quite well, it is an investement.

Andrésen pic via moviemail-online.co.uk Bottle pic via Vogue.com.tw
Clip originally uploaded by AssimQuePuderes on Youtube.

Narciso Rodriguez Essence: fragrance review

Narciso For Her by young, hip and understated designer Narciso Rodriguez had me at hello all those years ago with its delicious musky trail that is too sexy for words, yet polished enough to pass off as classy; ever since the brand has me curious as to what they come up with next. Proving to be a mega-trendsetter ever since its launch, Narciso for Her catapulted the market into a gene-pool sharing the same musks and "clean" synthesized patchouli bases shaped into the beautiful but traitorous dress of the "modern chypré"; in moments of truth and Sundays' waking up too late after a night partying next to delicious-looking strangers those scents shed that pretentious dress for the comfortable and more accurate flannel PJs of "woody florals with musks" and that's perfectly all right by me. But I digress... Luckily for all of us, the tremendous success of Narciso For Her didn't wind the Rodriguez brand into mechanically and pacingly launching myriads of "flankers"; with the exception of slight differences between the original range itself (eau de toilette vs eau de parfum vs parful roll-on vs Musk For Her oil) and the masculine counterpart issued one year ago, they have restrained themselves into an elegant rhythm which I respect.

Essence, Rodriguez's newest feminine fragrance, didn't grab me as much as Narciso For Her initially did, but that doesn't mean it is a bad fragrance; on the contrary it has a strangely insidious, undercurrent appeal of being made by very skilled hands who were given a not-too-precise-brief and although I am snobishly trying to write it off as repetitive and trite, I can't really. In Essence Rodriguez collaborated again with Beauté Prestige International, the Paris-based fragrance division of the Shiseido Cosmetics Corporation, aiming to capture a "sensual and luminous fragrance with a modern heart of musc enhanced by radiant notes of rose petals, powder notes of iris and hints of amber resulting in a floral, powdery musc fragrance". It doesn't sound terribly exciting, it utilizes the same well-known notes that Narciso Rodriguez obviously loves and I bet that the Spanish-born perfumer Alberto Morillas of Firmenich ~at once a classicist and a modernist and amazingly prolific in his almost 40-years-long career~ could have provided the formula with both hands tied behind his back and blindfolded at the drop of a hat! A recipient of numerous awards, among them the coveted Prix Francois Coty in 2003, Alberto Morillas is responsible for such bestsellers as Armani's Sensi and Aqua di Gio, Bulgari Blu, Omnia and Thé Blanc, Carolina Herrera Chic and 212, Cartier's Le Baiser du Dragon , M7 for YSL, Marc Jacobs Daisy and of course another huge influence on the market: Flower by Kenzo. The man knows how to attract the audience's loyalty, therefore enough said.

The overall effect of Narciso Rodriguez Essence is a clean unctuous almost soapy/aldehydic scent with classical mementos of White Linen minus some of the sharpness and Chanel No.5 minus the sweet florals or the skanky sexiness of lacy panties underneath prim suits, yet with an eerily reminiscent warm-skin-feel that the original Narciso for Her possessed as well. The clean musks featured, with their lathery bubbliness, have their lineage in Morillas's 212 and Daisy, while the powdery segment takes a page off Flower. Little development happens from the initial dryer-sheet sharply aliphatic and abstractly floral opening to the polite muskiness skin-like effect of probably Ambroxan*, (wishful-thinking) Muscenone** and Habanolide**. For what is worth the current modern white musk accord was first created by Alberto Morillas himself in Emporio Armani White for Her (combining Habanolide to Helvetolide**) and he used Muscenone in both Flower and Vanille 44 for niche brand Le Labo. The whole pared-down approach reminds me of the Escentric Molecules line. Although the powdery hazy effect is often attributed to iris, I do not detect any of its melancholic earthiness in the composition, same as with Infusion d'Iris by Prada which utilized a similar approach to the upscale-shampoo-latheriness vibe which seems to be all the rage now (judging by even such offerings as Chanel's Beige from Les Exclusifs). Luckily for the anosmiacs to Narciso For Her it seems to be rather different, enough to maybe give a jolt to their hypothalamus and be discernable to them.

Rodriguez wanted Essence to represent duality: "the intense and the ethereal, the simple and the complex" with an emphasis on "sun's purity" which reminds me of the "solar musks" accord of his first feminine perfume. I guess it's shorthand for "clean and warm" which Essence most certainly is. Lovers of that unperfume-y aspect as well as adventurers of all things delicately musky should flock to at least try it, the rest might find it non remarkable or even unpleasant in its screechy soapy tonalities which overstay their welcome impressively. It's pleasant enough for people into that genre, quite unisex and rather fun (for the price asked) to wear when that Sunday in flannels comes around once in a while, although not as enjoyably fulfilling as the original Narciso for Her is.

The bottle glows from within its mirrored core, round in its glass curvaceousness, created by noted industrial designer Ross Lovegrove (recipient of the prize Royal Designer for Industry in 2004 and art-exhibitor at MOMA and Guggenheim Museum in New York, the Centre Pompidou in Paris as well as the Design Museum in London). The eye-catching design is almost a futuristic, rounded interpretation of the original solid and austere Narciso For Her flacon.
The advertising campaign shot by the lens of Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin
features supermodel Catherine MacNeil to whom Narciso "was drawn to instinctively".

Notes for Narciso Rodriguez Essence:
iris, rose, benzoin, modern musks


Narciso Rodriguez Essence is available in Eau de Parfum 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz exclusively at Saks Fifth Avenue from March and globally in April.
Ancilary products include a body lotion, a bath and shower cream and a deodorant spray.

Ad pic via fibre2fashion.com , soap courtesy of sassylicious.com.au

*Abroxan is a synthetic aromachemical mimicking the ambergris sensuous note.
**Muscenone, Habanolide, Helvetolide are gtrademark names for different varieties of synthetic musks.

Les Colognes Hermes ~Eau de Gentiane Blanche, Eau de Pamplemousse Rose: fragrance reviews

One day I might stop raving about the vision and artistry of Jean Claude Ellena, but not today. His new creations for the house of Hermès depart from the classical Eau de Cologne structure into drier and more mineral arpeggios, the melodies of his two new compositions humming on my skin like Pan-pipes made of an outer-space-born hybrid.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche and Eau de Pamplemousse Rose join longstanding bestseller Eau d’Orange Verte (composed by Françoise Caron, its 30th anniversary this spring) for the new collection of unisex Eaux de cologne from Hermès, expected to be joined by more in the coming seasons. In a long discussion with Jean Claude he confided his and the House's desire to focus on a renovation of the Cologne genre which "needs a lot of love", as both a hark back to traditional perfumery and a modern choice of indulgent refreshment in the classic Mediterranean style.
The new compositions are both wonderfully pleasurable, but it's one of them which has literally swept me off my feet and regular readers of Perfume Shrine will not be hard-pressed to tell which one!

Eau de Pamplemousse Rose (translated as 'grapefuit & rose' and not 'pink grapefruit', as insistited upon by Ellena himself in his interview to us) is the more neoclassical of the two, denoting a citrusy facet at the beginning which echoes his other grapefuit compositions; namely In Love Again for Yves Saint Laurent and Rose Ikebana for Hermessences. However the new formula is different than the previous tries: If I were to imagine this as a ladder to absraction, I'd say that from the hologram of bitter-sweet grapefruit of the former and the delicate jewelled sparkle of the latter, the new composition is seen through the beam of a laser-jet printer which merges pixels in high resolution on a high-weight paper that seems powdered out of the package.
Compared with the other emblematic grapefuit, that of Guerlain's Pamplelune, one is stunned by the different approach of the two styles: Pamplelune is executed in a magnificently proficient style that manages to orientalise the sulphurous note in the arms of patchouli which warms and fans out the naturally sweet-smelling tonalities of the fruit. In Eau de Pamplemousse Rose the foot is firmly set on the West and the approach is leaner, tangier and less love-or-hate. A molecule patented by the house of Firmenich, called Rhubofix, possessing fresh "green rhubarb", woody-spicy, and floral facets combines with the rose scent, merging in a slightly ~and very pleasantly~ bitter composition which transcends the cologne genre. It would be a disillusionment to approach this if you're in search for rose, however, as it is only a mere whisper and neither is vetiver immediately apparent. Already being the proud owner of both In Love Again and Rose Ikebana, as well as Kelly Calèche which sports a little wink of this element too, as part of my fragrance collection, I am not certain whether I will sprint to get a bottle of the latest; but it's really well done and worth investing for the summer months if you have a dent in the fresh compartment in your fragrance wardrobe.

Eau de Pamplemousse Rose includes the following notes: lemon, grapefruit, rose, Rhubofix, vetiver.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche, on the other hand, is an adorable bone-dry masterpiece of novelty which eschews the traditional structure of Eau de Cologne much like Ellena's Vanille Galante took over the vanilla bandwagon; and thus I am earnestly putting a big bottle of it on my wishlist. Currently Eaux seem to be everywhere from Dior's Escale de Pondichéry, Miss Dior Cherie L'Eau and J'adore L'Eau Cologne Florale (review coming up) to Cristalle Eau Verte (ditto) and the instigator of it all Eau de Cologne by Chanel. Still Hermès and Ellena, much like Sinatra (or Sid Vicious, take your pick) "did it their (own) way" and the magnificently androgynous and distinct result is highly wearable as well.

Contrary to Robin of NST I do not peg Eau de Gentiane Blanche as a too clean scent, although it's undoubtedly fresh; perhaps an allusion to Alpine snowscapes where gentian grows abundantly. Yet, smell this take on freshness and you know you've been under azure skies in the early hours of morning in Göreme in the Cappadocia region of Turkey, all mineral landscape around, no plants, no water, nothing but dry white dust and rock as far as the eye can see. The huge rock houses of Cappadocia, underground as well as upperground, present the apotheosis of past meets future: one cannot distinguish whether they're in one of the prehistoric shots of "2001 A Space Odyssey" or in one of the first episode of "Star Wars". The cool feeling imparted by Eau de Gentiane Blanche reminded me of that experience along with the caves at the famous nude beach of Matala on the island of Crete: cool solace from the scorching sun.

Upon testing Eau de Gentiane Blanche on my skin, I was struck by one sledgehammering impression: This is how I wanted Chanel Les Exclusifs No.18 to smell like on me!! The touch of ambrette seed in the Chanel is here magnified, the sophisticated bitter character bringing it full circle along with the vegetal, earthy-powdery halo or iris instead of the rose of No.18 and I seem to detect some of his signature Iso-E Super.
Jean Claude Ellena also extolled the innovation of using gentian absolute, here featured for the first time in a fragrance. This, apart from the stylistical difference, might explain the striking difference with Guerlain's Aqua Allegoria Gentiana, another fragrance pegged on the gentian plant. In the latter nevertheless the pear aroma-chemical along with the sweeter nuances of lime, limette and vanilla conspire to give a fresh, yet slightly sweet composition (not quite in the patiserrie Guerlain later style, thankfully) whereas in Eau de Gentiane Blanche the dryness is the undoubted seal of sophistication.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche includes notes of white musk, gentian, iris and incense.

Both compositions had an average tenacity on my skin, longer on the blotter (and I would surmiss on clothes) but they perform better on skin and thus the latter method is highly recommended when testing. Remarkable they do not dry down diametrically opposite, which lends a uniformity of style in the line. Philippe Mouquet's design of the trio of flacons for the Colognes Hermes vibrates in three nuances of green: vivid bottle-green, grey-green and dark forest green. The Hermes colognes are available as splash at major department stores and Hermes boutiques in 100ml (3.4oz)/$125 and 200ml (6.8oz)/$165 while Eau d'Orange Verte specifically is also available in the Tesla-size of 400ml (13.6oz)!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Interview with Jean Claude Ellena, Hermès fragrances, Eau de Cologne history & scents
Pics of fashion shoot at Goreme, Turkey via Corbis