Twin Peaks: Ormonde Jayne Champaca & Calvin Klein Truth

Usually the purpose of a Twin Peaks smell-alikes article is to highlight affinities between a higher end fragrance and one which is offered at a comparative price. However it's not solely that. A discontinued or catastrophically reformulated perfume that could be "relived" through experiencing a decent substitute, no matter its provenience, is also worth mentioning. To the latter case I present a comparison between Champaca by British niche brand Ormonde Jayne, which is currently in production, and Truth by Calvin Klein, which has been discontinued a few years already.

via lucacambiaso.deviantart.com

The reason CK Truth for women was discontinued is lost on me. It had everything going for it when it launched back in 2000; from the subtle yet lingering aroma of green bamboo shoots and comforting woody-musky notes to the sensuous advertising and the aesthetically pleasing contours of the packaging, it looked like a much better bet for the Calvin Klein brand than many others in the overpopulated line. The evocation of a woman's skin was sensuous and done with an interesting twist to eschew too obvious a musk note by Alberto Morillas, Jacques Cavallier and Thierry Wasser. It even had its own "blending kit" of 6 key essences (one of which I distinctly recall was a lilac "accord", to my confirmation of the intimacy of this innocent looking flower) to custom mix so as to produce your individual scent combination, a Truth Lush flanker in 2002 and a "sensual bedtime fragrance" flanker -smelling exactly as it name suggests- launched in 2003.

With that in mind it's safe to say CK Truth could be classified under "undeserved commercial flops" as a marketing case study that includes other honorary mentions such as Feu d'Issey and Kenzo L'Elephant. Perhaps the fault was one of timing: By 2003 the advent of "gourmands", i.e. a subcategory of oriental fragrances heavy on the vanilla which mimicked popular desserts smells, was inescapable and the clean, serene, aromatic woody bouquet of Truth was hors categorie.

Champaca by Ormonde Jayne on the other hand, coming from a niche firm, had a clear advantage. It is also "foody", but in the most unusual sense. In fact coming out in 2002 places it at that crossroads mentioned above. And yet, being "savory" rather than "sweet" (in the vanillic or ripe fruity sense), Champaca also pre-empts a trend that took wings by the end of the 2000s; the slightly salty, savory scents which do recall some dish or other, but less overtly than "cupcake" and "cake batter". The cult success of the perfume within the de iuoro limited perimeter of the niche fragrance market was due to its super comforting odor profile. The sweetly creamy, floral note of champaca, a yellow magnolia common in India, was married to the note of steamed basmati rice, itself a nurturing image, Earth Goddess and all.

The inspiration came from a couple who were neighbours to Linda Pilkington when at her first London appartment; whenever they steamed rice, the building smelled cozy and like home. I only found that info later, from Linda herself, but it justified my own impression that Champaca would work great as a room fragrance, one for a cozy restaurant in off-white colors with big sofas around to immerse oneself in like giant cocoons. As the scent progresses the floral element of Champaca is diminished and it turns somewhat "greener" and a tiny bit sour, while still very very soft and non-obtrusive with the low hum that perfumer Geza Schoen is known for.

The Ormonde Jayne seems less "skin scent" than the Klein one overall, the latter being a little tarter and with less of a foody element, but they're remarkably close. Some people notice a third simile with Fraicheur Vegetale Bamboo by Yves Rocher, but I haven't tried that one. If you have please discuss.

Notes for Calvin Klein Truth:
bamboo, wet woods, white peony, vanilla, white amber and sandalwood
Notes for Ormone Jayne Champaca:
Neroli, pink pepper, bamboo, Champaca, Basmati rice, green tea, myrrh, musk.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: More smell-alikes fragrances on this link.

Le De by Givenchy: Vintage and Modern Les Mythiques Re-issue Comparison~ fragrance review & history

What possessed Givenchy to create two fragrances in 1957, the well known L'Interdit and the less known Le De, both inspired from and originally intended for Audrey Hepburn? In retrospect, though both elegant, delicate enough florals of immense clarity to reflect the tameness of the 1950s in terms of perfume expectations and societal mores and therefore suited to the "nice girl" elegance of Hepburn herself, the commercial supremacy of one over the other has left Le De in the twilight. It's perhaps telling that Bette Davis, no spring chicken when Le De became available in 1958 ~the actress was hitting 50, well into maturity by the standards of the time~ chose to wear the ill-fated one. Le De remains today a snapshot of how women used to smell, ladylike and in pearls, and even in the re-orchestrated re-issue that the company launched in 2007, seems a captive of time in one way or another.

via savemybrain.net

The history of Le De 

The oddly named Le De is a reference to the particle of nobility in Hubert de Givenchy's name. In 1952, at the age of 24, Givenchy opened his own design house on 8, rue Alfred de Vigny in Paris introducing it with the "Bettina Graziani" collection, named after Paris's top model at the time. He had a tight budget and only three staff working in a room loaned to him by friend and mentor couturier Cristobal Balenciaga.

The landmark of Givenchy's style, and the contrast to his more conservative contemporary Christian Dior, was innovativeness: The revolutionary use of cheaper fabrics employed in designs that intrigued with their aesthetic viewpoint, instead of their bourgeois luxury (influenced no doubt by Balenciaga), and his "separates", instead of the more standard option of dresses. Audrey Hepburn, later the most prominent champion of Givenchy's fashion (and to many the fashion plate whose image both benefited from and inspired him in equal measure), met the French designer in 1953 during the shoot of Sabrina. He had mistakenly thought he was going to meet and dress Katherine Hepburn...An immediate friendship was forged over this misunderstanding and Hubert went on to design almost all the wardrobes she wore in her movies, prompting him to later say that "Audrey's image is associated with my name".  She never failed to note that "Hubert gave me self-confidence. In one of his suits with the beautiful buttons I can forget my shyness and talk in front of 800 people". Their friendship lasted till her untimely death.

Le De came about when Hubert chose decided to gift his friend with a perfume; actually he commissioned two, the other being L'interdit (created in 1957 and commercialized in 1964) and they were hers alone for a whole year. In 1958 the idea of launching perfume under the aegis of his house saw Le De being introduced to the market while L'Interdit was immortalised in another classic Audrey Hepburn film, Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Comparing vintage and modern Le De Givenchy

The vintage edition of Le De comes across as a strange floral etude in the lineage of Le Dix de Balenciaga, with the violet note treated in a non sweet manner, contrary to all confectionary and makeup references that violets usually translate to perfumery. Instead the astringency of the violets gains soapy and powdery nuances (thanks to orris and rose) presenting the suds and puffs of a beauty ritual through the sheer panel of a light filter. There is no natural reference, just abstraction. The narcissus essence is laced with the impression of a horse's sweat, segueing into a musky feminine aura that is lived-in contrasting nicely with the general "groomed" effect. It is subtle enough that you won't catch it unless you're looking for it.

In 2007 a re-issue of Le De Givenchy was launched under the auspice Les Mythiques, a homage collection to the classics in the Givenchy line. The modern Le De is a play on humid floralcy. A dewy floral would theoretically appeal to modern sensibilities, even though this style had commercially expired by the time that the company thought about launching it. The violet is subdued and a "clean" orange blossom and lily of the valley are making it approachable and familiar. The structure recalls a woody musky floral and sillage and projection remain low-key, though perfectly calibrated to function as a constant halo. As of time of writing, the modern Le De is still available from Harrods.

How to Differentiate Different Editions

The original Le De Givenchy was introduced in 1957. The vintage bottle has rounded shoulders and is following the classic mould common for L'Interdit as well. It was available in eau de toilette and extrait de parfum. The 2007 re-issue of Le De Givenchy in Les Mythiques line is encased in a lilac box with the logo of Givenchy repeated in the design motif of the packaging. The bottle in frosted glass, tall, with sparse lines and sharp shoulders.
EDIT: My reader Lily notes that there is an update on the Les Mythiques 2007 edition, introduced in 2011, with slight differences in the packaging, although I haven't come across it in person. If anyone can describe the differences and whether there's a change in scent I'd be happy to include the info.

Notes for the vintage Le De Givenchy:
Top notes are coriander, mandarin orange, tarragon, bergamot and brazilian rosewood
middle notes: carnation, lilac, orris root, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley and rose
base notes: sandalwood, amber, musk, oakmoss and guaiac wood.
Notes for the 2007 Les Mythiques Le De Givenchy:
Top notes: coriander and lily-of-the-valley
middle notes: jasmine, ylang-ylang and bulgarian rose
base notes: sandalwood, vetiver and incense.


Les Feuilles Mortes: music by Joseph Kosma and lyrics by poet Jacques Prévert. Yves Montand sung it in 1946 in the film "Les Portes de la Nuit".

Puredistance Opardu: fragrance review & draw

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

via http://osullivan60.blogspot.com

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

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

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

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

The perfumer

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

How it Smells 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfumery Material: Cassie & Mimosa & Differences with Cassia & Cassis

I well recall seeing farmers collecting gum from the acacia tree for use as gum arabic substitute in Australia years ago, their agile hands working effortlessly. It was a sight to behold, the pom poms of rich yellow cascading down the branches. There is an intimate scent to this little bloom, instilling a sense of longing and nostalgia, the ache from the past we long to go back to.

 In Greece we call acacia "γαζία", especially the saturated Farnesiana variety and it is among my first scented childhood memories, not least because a huge tree grew under our house; the euphonic word matches the rich, intense aroma with its almost boozy, lightly spicy undertone.

The yellow 'mimosas' of the florist shops are actually acacias, as "true mimosas" never have yellow flowers.

Many acacias have fragrant flowers but only two species, Acacia decurrens var. dealbata and A. farnesiana are utilized in perfumery.

 

Cassie, the intimate, animalic essence

Cassie flower absolute is extracted from the flora of the Acacia Farnesiana shrub, itself named after the Villa Farnese where the semi-tropical plant was transplated for ornamental reasons. The plant is named after Odoardo Farnese (1573–1626) of the notable Italian family which under the patronage of cardinal Alessandro Farnese, maintained some of the first private European botanical gardens in Rome, in the 16th and 17th centuries, the Farnese Gardens at Carparola. They later became famous for importing acacia to Italy from the Caribbean and Central America, henceforth the name stuck to the plant.

Known as Cassier du Levant in the South of France, the scent of cassie (from the Acacia farnesiana) is rich in benzaldehyde, anisic aldehyde, and a violet-smelling ketone, rendering the essence sensuous and shadowy fleshy like the contours of a soft feminine body through gauzy garments. It also contains eugenol, methyleugenol, coumarin, cuminaldehyde (giving that intimate tonality), decanal (aldehyde C10), cresol, methyl salicilate and nerolidol. Among floral notes, cassie is perhaps the most overtly womanly and even though it's technically a flower, it's usually classified under anisic smells which might explain how some people find it a difficult note to claim their own in fragrances.

The scent profile of cassie absolute is warm, honeyed, iris-powdery and quite balsamic with a hint of cinnamon, berry and aniseed, combined with a herbaceous floral effect. Its aroma therapeutical properties include help in dealing with stress and depression. It's no accident that in the myth of Isis and Osiris the tree of life has characteristics of the acacia tree. Its bark's smoke has a profylactic use in ancient lore and is used to put the gods in a good mood. Roots and resin from acacia are still combined with rhododendron, acorus, cytisus, salvia and some other components for making incense in Nepal and regions of China.
Favored as a scarce and therefore most valuable perfume ingredient, cassie has been harnessed in several renditions from Caron's Farnesiana to Coty's La Jacée through Creed's Aubepine Acacia, but nowhere is the flesh-like honeyed richness, from bark to thorny stem to sugary-spun blossom, best interpreted than in Dominique Ropion's masterpiece Une Fleur de Cassie for Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle. There the marriage of the exoticism and the animalic, almost bestial warmth of cassie with the more classic jasmine & rose shine into a tapestry where every thread is shining with its own gleam. The fragrance is lush, disturbing, almost too voluptuous. Une Fleur de Cassie also contains the more innocent mimosa absolute, a sweet note counterpointed by spicy carnation, smooth sandalwood and a hint of vanilla.

Mimosa, a cloud of sugar-spun innocence

Mimosa possesses that precious trait of innocence we associate with childhood, the sugar-spun scent close to heliotrope without the almondy nuances, soft like a cloud, dreamy like the first ray of spring sun on the February tree branches, lively and luminous like a promise of happiness. It's interesting to note that mimosa absolute figures highly in recreations of the elusive note of lilac in perfumery and of lily of the valley fragrances. The main constituent in mimosa flowers is farnesol which acts as an insect pheromone. (It's also found in other flowers, such as cyclamen, tuberose, and rose as well as an ingredient in the composition of several balsams and in neroli oil).

Two types of mimosa are most common: Acacia Pycnantha (literally "of dense flowers") is the floral emblem of Australia, while Acacia dealbata (wattle) is a similar b variant often presented to women and refered to as "mimosa"; it's probably what most people associate with mimosa. A variant called mimosa pudica is called "shy plant, because it closes its compound leaves inwards when touched and is in fact a "true" mimosa. Mimosa can be distinguished from the large related genera, Acacia and Albizia, since its flowers have 10 or fewer stamens.

Common Confusions

Silk Tree is often erroneously referred to as "mimosa", but in reality it is a different tree with brightly pink flowers with thread-like stamens in the shape of a Spanish fan belognging in the Albizia genus.You can get a sense of the scent of silk tree if you smell Dior's best-selling feminine perfume J'Adore.
Cassia and cassis, though linguistically close to cassie, have nothing to do with it. Cassia is a spicy note coming from the Cinnamonum cassia, while cassis refers to a synthetically recreated berry-lychee perfumers' "base" much used in 1980s and American perfumery with a nod to blackcurrant buds (bourgeons de cassis in French). You can smell lots of the latter in Lancome's Poeme and in Tiffany for women by Tiffany.

Fragrances with a notable cassie/mimosa note (with distinction on which uses which essence when unclear from the name):

Acca Kappa Mimosa
Annick Goutal Le Mimosa
Ayala Moriel Les Nuages de Joie Jaune
Calypso Christiane Celle Mimosa
Caron Farnesiana (cassie)
Chanel No.5 (mimosa)
Creed Aubepine Acacia
Czech & Speake Mimosa
DSH Perfume Mimosa 
Estée Lauder Private Collection (cassie)
Fragonard Mimosa
Frederic Malle Une Fleur de Cassie
Givenchy Amarige (mimosa)
Givenchy Amariage Harvest Mimosa 2005
Givenchy Amarige Harvest Mimosa 2007
Givenchy Amarige Harvest Mimosa 2009
Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Tiare Mimosa
Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Grosellina (cassie)
Guerlain Après L’Ondée (cassie)
Guerlain Champs Elysées (mimosa)
Hermès Calèche Fleurs de Méditerranée
Hermès Kelly Calèche (mimosa)
Halle Berry Halle (mimosa)
L'Artisan Parfumeur Mimosa pour Moi
L'Erbolario Mimosa
L'Occitane Voyage en Mediterranee Mimosa de l'Esterel
Molinard Les Fleurs: Mimosa
Patricia de Nicolai Mimosaique
Shiseido Zen (mimosa)
Yves Rocher Pur Desir de Mimosa

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Travel Memoirs Grasse, France & the Route de Mimosa

Credits: window overlooking acacia via journal.illuminatedperfume.com, acacia pic via bestgarden.gr, Villa Farnese via gardenvisit.com, bottle via luxe-psychologies.fr

Perfumery Material: Freesia, Peppery Zing, Electric Fresh

“Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet,” he whispered. “You have a very floral smell, like lavender … or freesia,” he noted. “It’s mouthwatering.” We can forgive Edward Cullen wooing Bella in Stephenie Meyer's vampire hit Twilight the semi-true reference of lavender as floral (it's really an aromatic in perfume-speak); the matter of the fact is that freesia is mouthwatering indeed and Edward is a major heart-throb for teenage audiences (there's even an online test about how you smell to Edward Cullen).

In Meet Joe Black freesia is a symbol of the hidden sensitivity of the aging father about to meet his death, played by Anthony Hopkins:
- We do need some answers on the flowers.
- Ah, yes, freesia, freesia. Everywhere freesia. Daddy loves freesia.

Not so for sophisticated and rather cynical Miranda Priesley in The Devil Wears Prada, quoted: "If I see freesias anywhere, I will be very disappointed"...

But it is Hugh De Sélincourt in The Way Things Happen who highlights the unique heart-aching aspects of this vividly huedblossom" "The happiness of that afternoon was already fixed in her mind, and always would the scent of freesia recall it to her mental sight, for among the smells of the roses and violets and lilies and wall-flowers, the smell of the freesia penetrated, as a melody stands out from its accompaniement, and gave her the most pleasure."

Scent Profile
The cheerful bouquet of peppery zing and floral freshness projected at the right intensity, a delicious aroma that radiates for a long distance, is what makes freesia flowers so memorable. High in linalool, a major component in all freesia varieties, this small colourful blossom emits a refreshing, floral woody aroma with a subtle citrusy-terpenic note. The mollified sweet aspects, with the nectarous quality of jasmine smelt through ozone, are given a cheerful piquancy by the spicy top note which pinches you by the nose upon stooping to smell the beautiful flowers. The nuance of the blossoms themselves is beautifully varied: white ones are spicier, colourful ones are "greener". The overall character is clean and with a soapy facet, a fact that makes freesia a favorite candidate for inspiring the added scent of soaps, shampoos, body lotions and so forth. It's no wonder freesias stand for innnocence!

Little did Friedrich Heinrich Theodor Freese (1795-1876), a German physician from Kiel, know that the proposal of the name by his friend and plant collector Christian Friedrich Ecklon would result in such a popular cultivar and perfume "note". But it's perhaps even more interesting to note that a minority of Europeans have specific anosmia for freesia, although most Europeans report that freesia is one of the strongest scents known to them! McWhirter concluded that "inability to perceive the scent is a recessive character. Tests of 1,600 subjects showed that the frequency of the recessive phenotype was high in those of Eastern European and British Celtic descent (at about 10%) and low in those predominantly of Scandinavian, English, Dutch, and German descent (at about 4%)" [source]

History of a Trend
The trend for using freesia notes in fragrances began when Antonia Bellanca-Mahoney first brought out her Antonia's Flowers perfume in 1984. It is a freesia dominant fragrance because this is the flower sthe famous NYC florist was most enamoured with. The great perfumer Bernand Chant (Aromatics Elixir, Azuree, Cabochard) composed it for International Flavors & Fragrances (IFF) using headspace technology to replicate that electric freshness that natural freesia exude. Antonia was adamant that her fragrance should be free of the tricks of scented seduction, she didn't want a fragrance that would "remind her of old ladies", but one that would be light and reminiscent of her flower shop; she hadn't been using perfume for these reasons and she thought it was time to find one to claim her own. She focused on freesias because they "knocked your socks off, like trumpets in an orchestra; everyone else sings backup, even the lillies". The result was the definitive scent that put freesia on the map.
Since then, not only has Antonia's Flowers become a cult favorite, it also has catapulted an entire avalanche of freesia notes containing fragrances which take this jolting, fresh, spring-like note as a departure point of clean, feminine, pretty compositions for every woman.

Constructing a Freesia Note for Fragrances
Even though a type of freesia oil can be extracted, all freesia notes in perfumery are uniformely synthesized, usually with copious amounts of linalool (the dominant constituent in over half of freesia cultivars), hints of jasmine synths and green notes. Natural freesias in some breeds also display other related monoterpenoids; 2-penylethyl acetate (sweet, honey-like) and benzyl alcohol (fruity smelling) as well as limonene (fresh lemony, sweetly citrusy), ocimene (green and terpenic with vegetable nuances), and alpha-terpinolene (fresh and delicately lilac-like) in supplementation of the linalool. Perhaps one of the most intriguing facets of freesias is that they display ionone (violet) characteristics while living, but they lose those notes when cut!!

The amateur or natural perfumer may opt to recreate a freesia note as need be via using white verbena essential oil, which has plenty of the floral woody ingredient linalool. This is not however a note you often see cited in natural blends, probably because its main use is acting as a "modifier" rather than a dominant character-giving note. Freesia in mainstream perfumery is paired with other clean, crystalline floral "notes" of lab-synthesis, such as cyclamen and lily of the valley, or magnolia, or the shriller, rosier peony.

List of fragrances with a dominant freesia note include:

Amouage Reflection woman
Antonia's Flowers Antonia's Flowers
Burberry Body
Cacharel Noa
Calvin Klein Eternity
Caswell & Massey Freesia
Cerruti Cerruti 1881 pour femme
Chanel Allure Eau de Toilette
Clinique Happy
Dior Tendre Poison
Dior Forever & Ever
Diptyque Ofresia
DKNY Pure
Escada Moon Sparkle
Estee Lauder Pleasures
Fragonard Freesia
Giorgio Armani Aqua di Gio
Gucci Envy
Gucci EdP II
Guerlain L'Instant Magique
Issey Miyake L'Eau d'Issey
Jennifer Lopez Still
Lancome Miracle
Maitre Parfumeur & Gantier  Freezia d'Or
Paul Smith Paul Smith Women
Ralph Lauren Romance
Victor & Rolf Antidote

pics via openwalls.com, indulgedecorblog.com

Guerlain Muguet 2012 and Mon Precieux Nectar: new fragrances

Guerlain is re-issuing their ultra-limited-edition of Muguet perfume, each year with a new twist, for May 1st 2012, celebrating the good luck charm that is lily-of-the-valley given on that day. This year, Guerlain head perfumer Thierry Wasser signs a perfume adorned with a valuable "necklace" from the French house of Gripoix. This limited edition circulates in only 1250 flacons worldwide.

Guerlain Muguet 2012 includes fragrant notes of lily of the valley, lilac and rose. The light green juice, symbolising freshness and coolness is held in a bottle that holds 60ml/2oz. The perfume is sold at Guerlain boutiques on April 30th ONLY.
Previous editions of Guerlain Muguet can be seen in this collage photo below.And here is a short guide into identifying the various editions of Guerlain Muguet perfume per year of release.

Mon Précieux Nectar by Guerlain is a re-edition of a previous extrait de parfum composition from 2009 which had been offered only in 1 litre Val Saint Lambert "urn" numbered bottles (1 L pure Parfum at the retail price of $9,000 or 6000 €!). Now the scent is presented encased in the classic "bee" bottles of the boutique exclusive Les Parisiennes line. (270$ for 125ml of Eau de Parfum extrait de parfum). *[NB. There is some discussion as to whether this is  EDP or the actual exrait de parfum formula: Mr.Guerlain has posted a Facebook photo in which "extrait" is written on the tester bottle right besides the Parisienne bottle, which makes perfect sense. This is actually the case as confirmed, so then allow me to consider Guerlain was seriously ripping everyone off just 3 years ago....tsk tsk tsk....]

The fragrance itself is credited to Thierry Wasser and -as before- includes fragrant notes of petit-grain, bitter almond, orange blossom, jasmine, sandalwood, gaiacwood, vanilla, white musk and incense. (see the description of Mon Précieux Nectar extrait de parfum from 2009 here).

Obviously the 1L parfum idea hasn't gone down as well as anticipated commercially....?

collage pic via www.perfumediary.com, other pics via mr.Guerlain facebook

Spring Floral Fragrances: Delicate Beauties Yielding Under Your Caress

Legend wants it that the goddess Flora created violets out of the body of a butterfly, but flowers have the power to lure humans in ways that insects can't fathom. Did you know that Tristan carved a message to Yseult on a branch covered in honeysuckle, the flower standing for devotion, thus signaling the infinity of their bond? Kama, the Indian goddess of love, strikes her victims with a jasmine-laced arrow. Greek and Latin god Eros/Cupid spilled a cup of red wine on the white rose, turning it from a symbol of purity to code for romance. Tuberose ignites innermost desires as its seductive, highly heady warmth garlands newlywed's beds in a promise of sensual profusion. And gardenia was introduced as the height of courtesy and elegance when Beau Brummel first put one as his boutonniere on the jacket lapel back in the 19th century. The custom of offering lily of the valley on May 1st dates even further back: it was Charles IX who first offered these tiny bell-shaped flowers to his mother, Catherine de Medicis, as a good luck charm.

Renunculas & Apples by Jeffrey Smith

This spring I brought out the following fragrances to mark the transition from the bonfires, the rich ambers and the patchoulis of wintertime to the hopeful freshness and floral garlands of springtime.

Patricia de Nicolai Le Temps d'une Fete
Barnyard narcissus frolics sweetly with hyacinth, daffodil and galbanum. Like a roll in the hay on a warm May day.

Editions des Parfums Frederic Malle Une Fleur de Cassie
Oozing with animalic come-hither while at the same time retaining a fuzzy, soft caressing innocence. A masterpiece.

Maria Candida Gentile Hanbury
A staggering vista of a Mediterranean garden; sweetly citrusy on top, lushly floral and nectarous in the heart thanks to calycanthus and mimosa, wonderfully understated and elegant in its base.

Guerlain Aqua Alegoria Jasminora
A. Japanese garden, misty at the edge of dawn. A trellis of white blossoms, tiny in the emerging light.

Clarins Elysium
Clean and fresh, without being soapy, screechy or loud; delicate, elegant, sadly discontinued.

Tauer Perfumes Zeta
Almost flavored by linden blossom, reminiscing me of edible linden or rose honey I used to buy when gallivanting on the slopes of Zakinthos island in the Ionian Sea, rather than merely the delightful blossoms on the tree.

YSL Paris
A mirage of rose and violet that takes us into a Parisian springtime stroll under the Seine bridges.

Yves Rocher Pur Desir de Lilas
Yves Rocher captures the sweet pollen like facet of lilac in the heart, while retaining the bright aspects of a vivid floral on top.

Lauder Private Collection Jasmine White Moss
Graceful, fresh and powdery with orris, jasmine and orange blossom, without pretence, classy....
a "nouveau chypre" that is proud of the moniker.

Chanel Les Exclusifs Bel Respiro
Brings on a pastoral theme to its stemmy, herbal aroma of galbanum with touches of spring florals. To don with a sundress and slingbacks.

What are YOU wearing this spring?

Jo Malone Peony & Moss, White Lilac & Rhubarb, Iris & Lady Moore (London Blooms collection): new fragrances

Spring comes as all gardeners know ushering showers and sun rays, clashing greeness against the budding petals, open to coolness and warmth, giving the promise of things to come. British gardens especially aim at the superficially haphazard, but nothing is really left to chance. Spring-like fragrances inspire us with their delicate grace and their emotional romance-leaning proclivities, but they have their own dare to contrast with the prettiness.
Jo Malone aimed to captured this juxtaposing elements mood in her new "London Blooms" trio of fragrances. The new Jo Malone scents are presented in a Limited Edition collection launching in March 2012, adorned by vintage-style botanical drawings, reflecting the spirit of modern gardens.

The London Blooms LE collection includes:

Peony & Moss
A contrast of the dainty and the dirty. Delicate peony, clad in the moist earthiness of moss. Laced with
cordial-intense cassis. Encircled with ivy. A fragrance of gossamer lightness, grounded in rich verdancy.

White Lilac & Rhubarb
A celebration of seductive contrasts beloved by modern gardeners. Tart-vibrant rhubarb cuts through
delicate florals. The softness of lilac. The femininity of rose. And the almond - scent of sun-loving heliotrope.

Iris & Lady Moore
A fascinating mingling of spicy-fresh, common-or-garden geranium and noble iris, powdery
and poised. Two characterful purple florals, rustling above an elegant dry-grass bed of vetiver.

Limited edition. Available from March 2012.

$110 US / $125 CAN for each 100ml Cologne.

London Blooms will be available at Jo Malone Shops, jomalone.com, Bergdorf Goodman,Neiman Marcus and select Saks Fifth Avenue, Bloomingdale’s, and Nordstrom stores nationwide.

Available exclusively at Holt Renfrew in Canada.

info on notes, availability & prices via press release

The New (Complex) Smell of Clean

It's no secret: We gingerly open up the fabric softener's and even the floor cleaner's cap to take a whiff of the liquid inside in the super-market to make sure we approve of the scent. We check with our nose, since our brain cannot register how analytical chemistry can help get us a cleaner laundry basket at the end of the day or a shinier floor just by briefly looking at the label. Eschewing logic over emotion is all too human. Big conglomerates are aware of it. And no other sense is more emotional than our sense of smell.

"Fragrance today helps define the choices in consumer specialty product categories as varied as automotive, air care, laundry and household cleansers. The truth is, consumers have been trained to seek out the fragrances they love. As a result, people's passion for how products smell—and how they feel about particular scents and accords—has reshaped the consumer landscape. [...] Just as ‘clean’ and ‘fresh’ are two words that say the most about air care and household cleaning products—and while pine, citrus and lavender still are working their hearts out in homes—defining what clean and fresh actually mean today has become the overwhelming creative challenge.
[...]P&G’s big winner New Zealand Springs—which is a fresh, green fruity-floral [aroma] ‘inspired by New Zealand's South Island where springs feed glacier-carved streams and verdant vistas’—is making money for Febreze room and fabric sprays, oils and home fragrances, Mr. Clean’s hard surface and multipurpose cleaners, Dawn ultra-concentrated dish liquid, and Cascade dishwasher detergent. [...] If a limited-edition fragrance truly connects with consumers, the scent can be upcycled—perhaps even renamed—and made part of the brand’s offering long term. This is a strategy that strategically improves marketing effectiveness. [...] Expectations for great fragrances have never been greater"

~from an article by Lori Miller Burns, director of marketing, Arylessence, on Perfumer & Flavorist Magazine.

The intricasy of developing complex scents for non fine fragrances (i.e. fragrances for functional use, such as detergents, air care, shampoos etc.) is increasing and for good reason: There is an intense competition between the big companies into who will release something that will grab the consumers and can then become (by the standards of recycling the same scent in new names, as delineated above) a lifestyle product. Smell and scents have become a firm element of lifestyle; an experience that seals a moment of living. If this isn't the height of commercialisation, I don't know what is. But let's proceed with a specific example.

"In the commercials [of odor-eliminating Procter & Gamble product Febreze], each setting is shown being treated with a Febreze product, like fabric spray or room spray, before the blindfolded subjects are led in. In one spot, two women approached on the street in the SoHo section of Manhattan are led blindfolded into an abandoned section of a building, where they are seated on an old, torn couch that has clumps of dog hair. As two dogs dart around the room, they are asked by an off-screen interviewer to take deep breaths and report what they smell. [watch the Febreze couch experiment clip here, part of their Breathe Happy campaign]
One of the women says, “Light floral, lilac,” and “Like when you have fresh laundry.” The other adds, “Maybe even a little bit of citrus,” “a little bit beachy” and “wispy white curtains.” They are told to remove their blindfolds, and the squalor of the room registers on their shocked faces, with both saying, “Oh, my god,” before two members of the film crew approach them wielding Febreze. [...]
Tor Myhren, president and chief creative officer at Grey New York, said the impetus for the campaign came from a consumer focus group. “Someone said, ‘You can close your eyes, but you can’t turn off your nose,’ and that’s a brilliant insight,” Mr. Myhren said. “We said that’s a big, big, big idea that we need to bring to life.”

~from an article on the advertising of Febreze in New York Times

Procter & Gamble swears their product is "absolutely non-toxic", safe to use in homes with pets and acts on the power of beta-cyclodextrin to bind big molecules into its own doughnut shape, thus disallowing the dispersion of malodours molecules into the air where they would be perceived by human noses. Some sources state that Febreze also contains zinc chloride, which would help to neutralize sulfur-containing odors (e.g., onions, rotten eggs) and might dull nasal receptor sensitivity to smell, but this compound is not listed in the ingredients (at least in the spray-on products).

Interestingly, a cultural aspect enters the marketing and distribution of Febreze.  Even though P&G reaches hundreds of countries around the world, some markets are excluded from this artificial smell of clean. Pat from Olfactarama recounts how the original formulation of Febreze died a slow death in the US when it was first introduced, as the cultural mantra is to feel (intellectual and sensory) elation at the cleansing task after it has been actually performed. The re-introduction of Febreze to staggering sales numbers currently is largely attributed to re-introducing the product with added fragrance!

"A breakthrough came when [the product development & marketing team] visited a woman in a suburb near Scottsdale, Ariz., who was in her 40s with four children. Her house was clean, though not compulsively tidy, and didn’t appear to have any odor problems; there were no pets or smokers. To the surprise of everyone, she loved Febreze.

“I use it every day,” she said.

“What smells are you trying to get rid of?” a researcher asked.

“I don’t really use it for specific smells,” the woman said. “I use it for normal cleaning — a couple of sprays when I’m done in a room.”

The researchers followed her around as she tidied the house. In the bedroom, she made her bed, tightened the sheet’s corners, then sprayed the comforter with Febreze. In the living room, she vacuumed, picked up the children’s shoes, straightened the coffee table, then sprayed Febreze on the freshly cleaned carpet.[...]
“It’s nice, you know?” she said. “Spraying feels like a little minicelebration when I’m done with a room.”

~from an article in the New York Times about mapping consumer behavior

In Greece, Febreze never caught on: it was introduced sometime around 2000 if memory serves well, promoted in super-markets as just the thing for difficult to wash car seats, but the Greek culture that adbhors "masking" dirt instead of getting down on your knees and scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing that floor to a shiny shine quickly purged it. No attempts for re-introducing it have been made, added fragrance or not, and I would assume that with our national streak of disliking "artificial" scents that are not actual perfumes for one's own skin it would not have sustenance.Unless it promised a mini-celebration of discovering the surefire way to make away with sovereign debt, naturally. P&G, there's hope yet.

"I would prefer body odor over particular scents. At least body odor does not spread."

Sarah J.Dreisinger, an associate with a Manhattan law firm, doesn't mince her words, when voicing her displeasure with fragrance wearing by her fellow New Yorkers in the  New York Times Complaint Box rant page. The title ("Overperfumed") says it all, and the reader early on admits "I have never liked perfume", which should give us the proper focus on which to interpret her views,
but reading through the text, I realize some interesting things about what obviously annoys the author so much and they kinda make sense in a way:

1) the perception of personal fragrances as a "manufactured substance someone else has deemed desirable"
2) the bad interpretation of natural smells by low quality scented products ("a manufacturer's idea of gardenia or lilac")
3) the intermingling of fragrance with outdoors scents ("it lingers as I step outside, interfering with the city's seasonal scents") or the confusing collision between fragrances themselves ("when Warm Summer Breeze and Vanilla Bean are sitting next to each other")
4) the environmental health concern at the back of one's mind
5) the purposeful use of perfume to cover up bad smells (such as smoke or soiled clothing) resulting in something less than pleasant
6) the state of the fragrance industry, issuing hundreds of celebrity scents
7) the very idea of perfume as a vanity project

Well, Sarah, we couldn't agree more on points 2,5 and 6 (and we have been pressing from these very pages for more quality, more innovation, more originality and lyricism in fragrances produced). We have complained about the perfume industry all too recently. And really, whether you realize it or not, there is nothing non manufactured in all the scents in the city-scape; from the garbage from manufactured foodstuff (yes!) to the barbecues (it's not nature's way to barbecue food by itself) to smelling smoke of marijuana (another manufactured product, I bet) and the "subway mélange" (I rest my case).
Plus, the environment is much more aggravated by functional products with artificial smells, as attested by university studies. Perfume is only the drop in the proverbial ocean. And it's all right not liking it. It's an opinion and as such valid, we respect that.
But we have to disagree on body odor being preferable. Obviously you haven't sit in a closed-up space with someone who hasn't washed for days on end. Have you?

On to the readers, what do YOU think? Is body odor preferable over fragrance? Do you object to the idea of scents intermingling? Does something bother you in the scentscape you live in?

Karen Khoury: Perfume Inspirations for Estee Lauder & Tom Ford

"I love fragrance and I have lots of ideas. I can be inspired by a piece of art. For example, Pleasures was inspired by Georgia O'Keefe's paintings and Beyond Paradise by a painting I found in a gallery in the old section of Paris. I have fragrances inspired by travels. Fifteen years ago when I made my first trip to Turkey, I was enamoured by the spice market.

I brought some home and had them analysed and put into fragrances and in Morocco I became obsessed with the smell of thya wood and the beautiful bowls they carved out of it.
I took the pieces home and we recreated Bois Marocain for Tom Ford.

And I find women incredibly inspiring. I think women in different cultures share common threads, but the way in which they are expressed is influenced by the culture. It's so fascinating. When I start to understand that I see certain notes, certain ideas in my mind.".

Thus reminisces Karen Khoury, creative director for 27 year and Senior Vice President at the Lauder Companies Inc, responsible for the creation of numerous best-sellers in her career from Calvin Klein to Lauder to you name it.

photo of citruses & lilac flowers by Meg Smith & Associates via Laurie Arons

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

Gustave Alphonse Fragifert: The ill-fated French Perfumer & his Wellington Fragrances

Gustave Alphonse Fragifert was a brilliant but ill-fated French perfumer who lived from 1880 to 1911 and died under mysterious circumstances in South America. He wrote his formulas for four perfumes in code, which have now resurfaced in New Zealand after 100 years.

Sounds intriguing? This is the fictitious tale of a 12-minute-long performance in Wellington, New Zealand, but the fragrances are real*, each of them representing a season and are both art-directed and composed by Francesco van Eerd. Van Erd is Dutch-born and forestry graduate New Zealender, who has also studied perfumery in Grasse and Britain, and who acts with the aid of performing arts student Robbie van Dijk, in this amusing performance. Based at the Wellington Underground Market, Fragrifert (pronounced frah-gree- fair and I'm sure I'm missing some inside linguistic joke that is perched on Dutch, which I don't know) has been delighting visitors with live performances in a theatrette beside the stall (every half hour from 10.30am until 3.30pm) since the 3rd of September. Sounds like a don't miss if you're around!

*The Fragrifert Scents are:
Ete (=summer) has notes of grapefruit, cedar, prune, white musk, oakmoss, vanilla and ambergris. Lilac (for spring) is built on flowers, one of them being lilac: broom, mimosa, heliotrope, rose and violet, laced with tobacco, patchouli and sandalwood, as well as citruses and liquorice. Automne is a soft oriental with cinnamon, tyberose, vanilla and orchirds, while Hiver (=winter) interprets the cool, yet spicy, wintersweet shrub, adding lily of the valley and cyclamen notes.
Each fragrance at 25% concentration (potent!) is 24.50$ or 80$ for the set of four.

news via the dominion post

Brave New Scents

O wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world! That has such people in it!
~ Miranda in Shakespeare's “The Tempest”, Act V, Scene I

I want God, I want poetry,
I want danger, I want freedom,
I want goodness, I want sin.
~Aldous Huxley

The time has come again for a collective project uniting several perfumers and bloggers, who will explore new horizons in their quest for accomplished fragrances through innovative natural means.
In the Brave New Scents project, the Natural Perfumers Guild are likened to the members of Huxley’s novel. Like the starring characters in the novel, these brave new perfumers go against the grain and out of bounds, thwarting the ever-expanding regulatory nanny state in order to showcase aromatic extraction feats and use 21st Century aromatics that are not necessarily condoned in mainstream perfume society. Some of the brave new perfumers throw convention to the wind and blend perfumes that showcase their skill extracting scent from previously non-commercial plants, flowers, and substances. Others use the palette of newly-available essential oils, concretes, absolutes and CO2 aromatics; sometimes blending in their own artisan extractions, be they infusions, tinctures or distillations.

The Guild perfumers were provided with an extensive list of 100+ 21st Century aromatics, which was compiled by Guild President Anya McCoy and Guild Manager Elise Pearlstine. They recognized that before the year 2000, most artisan perfumers purchased their natural aromatics from aromatherapy suppliers. These suppliers did not carry many absolutes, and some aromatics available to the mainstream perfumers were not known, or available, to them. Suppliers for mainstream perfume houses did not carry many, if any, aromatics from India, such as jasmine sambac, lotus, champaca and other tropical scents.
Now a bounty of newly-available delightful absolutes such as aglaia flower, boronia, ambergris and many more are at their disposal. Newly-conceptualized and extracted aromatic wonders such as lilac flower and the amazing world of CO2 and SCO2 extractions are now available to the fragrance industry. Also included are the hand-extracted fragrant bounties from the gardens of the perfumers themselves, such as peony enfleurage, Grand Duke of Tuscany jasmine sambac enfleurage, and a myriad of distillations and tinctures. To make it interesting, the perfumers were allowed only one “wildcard” aromatic from the era preceding the year 2000.

The participating perfumers are:
Anya McCoy of Anya’s Garden Perfumes (Project Coordinator & Natural Perfumers Guild President)
Adam Gottschalk of Lord's Jester
Ambrosia Jones of Perfume By Nature
Charna Ethier of Providence Perfume Company
Christi Meshell of House of Matriarch
Elise Pearlstine of Belly Flowers Botanical Perfumes
Jane Cate of A Wing and a Prayer Perfumes
JoAnne Bassett
Liz Cook of One Seed
Rohanna Goodwin Smith of  Ascent Natural Perfumes

**Please visit Anya’s Garden Perfumes for a chance to win a bottle of Sweet Water or Wild Rose!**

The participating bloggers are:
All I Am – a redhead
Ça Fleure Bon (Several writers)
Donna Hathaway at the Examiner
Feminine Things
The Perfume Critic
Perfume Shrine

Expect to see giveaways and reviews on these pages soon!

The Scent of Nivea Cream: Nostalgic Remembrances in a Blue Tin

Who can forget the classic blue tin of Nivea Cream? Half the fun of using the unctuous, thick-pasted cream on wherever there was a graze or scratch or burn (or just for cosmetic purposes), was the smell. A scent so full of good-humoured herbal sweet comfort, nothing really sinister could come your way. Or so we thought, as kids. Stumbling upon what really made up that memorable aroma, many people's long and arduous quest, is precious and we're happy it to share it on Perfume Shrine:

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Even blindfolded, there’s no mistaking it: the fragrance of NIVEA. Its discreet perfume oil is considered one of the classic fragrances for skin cream. Because very few synthetic aroma chemicals were available in the early 20th century, the NIVEA fragrance consists largely of essential oils. Contributors to its flowery bouquet include lily of the valley, rose, violet, lilac and lavender, with orange and lemon fruit essences rounding out the fragrance. And incidentally: the secret original formula for the perfume oil used in NIVEA cream has changed very little after all these years."

Might we hereby note that neither violet, nor lilac, nor lily of the valley yield an adequate enough essential oil for anything even remotely resembling mass production, but we realise that an official admission on using even some aromachemicals is far-fetched. You'll have to content with having the scent notes delineated for you for the classic Nivea cream in the blue tin though: It's the stuff unforgettable scent memories are built on...

Photo collage of vintage Nivea cream ads via oranges & apples
Quote from Always Inspiring via M.K.Krydd (thanks!)

Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet: fragrance review & draw

"Sometimes he frets his instrument with the back of a kitchen knife or even a metal lipstick holder, giving it the clangy virility of the primitive country blues men".  This descriptor for Bob Dylan's style fits the newest Serge Lutens creation to a T: clangy, virile in a rugged way, disruptive, angry and unusual are all characteristics of Vitriol d'Oeillet (meaning vitriol of carnation); an uncharacteristic carnation fragrance which breaks the mould of old fashioned powdery florals of the start of the 20th century, offering a futurist angry woody floral. In Vitriol d'Oeillet Lutens alludes to carnation via intense, corosive pepper and lily and invites us to think of carnations of red, feisty under the intense sun of Provence, and at the same time of the London fog hiding a gentleman killer à la Jack the Ripper, who sports a carnation in his buttonhole.

There's something to be said about 19th century and its fixation with death & violence, a kind of violence beyond the funereal association so many people have with carnations. The ethereally romantic image of the era gets shattered when we read Honoré de Balzac for instance: Madame Cibot is a widow twice-over, when her husband Rémonencq accidentally consumes the chalice of vitriol he was intending for his wife (in Cousin Pons)...Oil of vitriol features in many a 19th novella, not just Balzac.
Two especially memorable scenes have the caustic sulphuric acid unceremoniously thrown on a face (the acid works by releasing acids from their salts, i.e.sulphides); namely in George Gissing's The Nether World (1889) and Robert Louis Stevenson's The Ebb-Tide (1894). Perhaps what inspired those writers into using vitriol in fiction scene stealers as an aussault (an aussault to injustice, poverty and degradation), as well as a metonym for realism (a late 19th century claim to the explosive!), is what inspired Lutens himself; a desire to break loose with preconceptions about how a carnation fragrance should be: pretty, prim, feminine, dainty? Vitriol d'Oeillet is nothing of the sort!
But there's something to be said about Vitriol being in tune with Moorish sensibilities too, of which Lutens has long been an accolyte. Blue vitriol is copper (Cu), green vitriol is iron (Fe), and white vitriol is zinc (Zn), all Hermetic references for the initiated. Sulphuric acid (historically known as 'oil of vitriol') was formerly prepared from green vitriol in a ritual that crossed into the alchemical. The Moors sold vitriol preparations as an antiseptic panaceia. There's this thing in Shi'ism called ta'wil, it's this idea where "you take anything back to its root significance, its original self". A cleanse going for the bone!

On the other hand, in late 19th century carnations were innocent, popular buttonhole flowers; Oscar Wilde was said to sport one and companies producing such fragrances were a dime a dozen, rendering the carnation soliflore a dominating fragrance trend of the Victorian era. The dandified character of carnation scents has persisted: from old-image Floris Malmaison to Roger &Gallet's ever popular ~but ultimately discontinued~ Blue Carnation all the way to modern-day retro Dianthus by Etro.

The opening of Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet is sharp, caustic as befits the name though not smelling of sulphur, without the dense powdery note that surrounds the rich floral heart of retro carnations such as Caron's Bellodgia. After all, clove, the main spicy component in creating a carnation accord in perfumery, is called clou de girofle in French, same as a pointy "nail". But despite the disruptive nails on a chalkboard of the opening of the new Lutens fragrance, the progression of Vitriol d'Oeillet softens gradually; much like Tubéreuse Criminelle hides a silken polished floral embrace beneath the mentholated stage fright. In Vitriol d'Oeillet's case Serge hides the heart of a lush lily inside the spicy mantle. Indeed it is more of a lily than a carnation fragrance, as per the usual interpretation of carnation in perfumery.

The spices almost strangle the lily notes under cruel fingers: black pepper, pimento, nutmeg, cayenne pepper, pink pepper with its rosy hue, paprika and clove; in Serge Noire and Louve the spices serve as a panoramic "lift" to the other notes, here they reinforce what was a hint in the flower. The woody backdrop of cedar is softening the base, but lovers of Serge's and Sheldrake's candied-fruit-compote-in-a-cedar-bowl will not find the sweet oriental they have grown to expect. Vitriol d'Oeillet is resolutely spicy, rendered in woody floral tonalities that only slightly turn powdery towards the very end.

To give perfume comparisons: If you have always found Secret Mélange, from Les Caprices du Dandy collection by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier (a fragrance which dared to mix cold spices and flowers and harmonize the accord with warm woods) quite intriguing, you have good chances of liking the jarring nature of Vitriol d'Oeillet. So might lovers of Caron's Poivre (which is vastly superior nevertheless) or of the dark, suffused imagescape of Garofano by Lorenzo Villoresi and E.Lauder's intense Spellbound. If you were looking for a classic, dense, feminine carnation floral or a minimal contemporary treatment oif the note such as in Oeillet Sauvage by L'Artisan Parfumeur, you might be scared by this violent yet diaphanous offering.

Oddly for the actual formula, since it's chartreuse liqueur which is infused with carnation petals and alchemically it is green vitriol which hides the greatest power, Vitriol d'Oeillet if of a greyish-lilac tint which looks someplace between funereal and alluringly gothic-romantic. The sillage is well-behaved, indeed subtle, perhaps because vitriol derives from the Latin vitrium, meaning glass, therefore denoting a certain transparency and lightness. Vitriol d'Oeillet is androgynous with great lasting power that seems to grow in depth, becoming a little bit sweeter and woodier as time passes.

Serge Lutens Vitriol d'Oeillet belongs to the export line, available at select stockists around the world and at the official Lutens site, 95euros for 50ml of Eau de Parfum. The limited edition engraved bottles depicted cost much more.

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What is it you find intriguing about the concept?