Showing posts sorted by relevance for query musk. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query musk. Sort by date Show all posts

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Herbal & Tangy, Aromatic & Green: Unusual Scents from the Bountiful Garden

Have you ever wanted to bottle the sweet smell of an herb garden or the tangy scent of a tomato? Such a mental image is enough to send your mind spinning into fantasies of having your own little patch of greenery or the memory of cutting the stems of fresh, organic vegetables grown in your childhood's garden. I suppose these are daydreams we all have but have yet to find the perfect scented memento to make them come alive again. Well, now you can, apparently.



 Great American Scents, a New Albany, Ohio based company that creates unique fragrances and candles, recently launched a new line of scented candles and perfumes called Bountiful Garden. These artisanal scents were created for a woman (or a man!) who loves the natural smell of the earth’s bounty; they signal freshness and impart the free-feeling spirit of the outdoors.

The 2013 Spring and Summer Collection features these enticing fragrances:

Tomato Leaf
Nothing signals a garden in full bloom more than sweet and luscious red tomatoes on the vine. And to their succulent charm Great American Scents added the oh-so slightly tart scents of verbena and rhubarb. Plus the beguiling earthiness of oak and moss. This is summer heaven. Top Notes: verbena, rhubarb, tomato stem; Mid-Notes: Olive flower, crushed green leaves; Dry Notes: oak moss, guaiac wood

Flowering Herbs
Nothing complements a garden and kitchen like a delightfully fragrant herb garden. Bright grapefruit and crisp apple scents, followed by fresh hyacinth and luscious peonies with pretty patchouli notes underneath will greet anyone who walks through a room. Top Notes: Grapefruit, green herbs, apple; Mid-Notes: Hyacinth, lotus flower, peony; Dry Notes: sycamore, patchouli, blonde woods

Sweet Magnolia
Conjure up the romantic South more with the honeyed goodness of magnolia blossoms. With a touch of lemon and hyacinth for brightness, and that most charming of scents – gardenia. Beneath it all Great American Scents has stirred in the timeless intrigue of iris and sandalwood. Top Notes: Lemon, gardenia leaves, hyacinth; Mid-Notes: gardenia blossom, lotus flower, magnolia; Dry Notes: skin musk, sandalwood, iris.

Beet Root
Delight in the earthy and spicy scents of bergamot, cedarwood and musk, wrapped with a hint of green leaves, orange blossoms and sea lily. Then sweet and fruity notes of fig, oleander and orange blossom join in this fragrant melody. Top Notes: Bergamot, green leaf, fig; Mid-Notes: sea lily, oleander, orange blossom; Dry Notes: cedarwood, warm wood, musk

Victory Garden
During World War II, Victory Gardens sprung up all across America with their crisp aromas of basil and sage. Walk a little further and a touch of citrus, violets and lavender appeared on the nose. And for good measure the warmth of cedar and mahogany added depth and dimension. Top Notes: Bergamot, petitgrain, basil; Mid-Notes: lavender, violet, crisp sage; Dry Notes: warm woods, cedarwood, mahogany

Orchard Blossom
When the orchard begins to blossom the delicious scents of fresh fruit can’t be far behind. Here Great American Scents starts with sweet apply, lush apricots and morning dew. Then delicate tiare flower joins in. And the warmth of orris and musk add a comforting finish. Top Notes: Apricot, apple, dew fruits; Mid-Notes: Apple blossom, tiare flower, stardust peony; Dry Notes: blonde woods, orris, musk.

Sunshine Grove
Come to the Grove and pick the sparkling fresh scents of citrus fruit with Great American Scents. And take joy in the uplifting fragrances of lemongrass blossom, sage and iris. Plus Great American Scents has added a whiff of intoxicating vanilla and musk. Top Notes: Orange, sage, clementine; Mid-Notes: lemongrass blossom, neroli, lily; Dry Notes: vanilla, iris, musk


For more information about Bountiful Garden, visit http://www.greatamericanscents.com, http://www.facebook.com/GreatAmericanScents or http://www.twitter.com/AmericanScents.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Serge Lutens Clair de Musc: Fragrance Review

Contrasting Clair de Musc to heavy-lidded, grimy and intimate Muscs Kublaï Khan by the same house, they couldn't be furter removed from one another in either concept or execution: Celestial creaminess on the one hand, afterglow raunchiness on the other. One feels platimum white, the other tawny.

Clair de Musc is ~atypically in the Lutens canon~ an angelic semi-vegetal musk (ambrette seed alongside synths, Habanolide I would wager); aldehydic, yet not totally soapy (Fleurs de Citronnier has a soapier musk base) neither "sharp" (à la L'Eau par Serge Lutens). It twists the idea of musk into an ethereal version of talcum-powdered chubby-peachy cheruvim with a floral underside, hold whatever "dirty aspects" i.e. indoles those flowers initially possessed; a skin-scent of juvenile, crisp flesh which almost "cracks" underneath the teeth. Which might explain why men love it on women. In our eternally seeking the youthful culture, Clair de Musc is a seduction that doesn't pose as seductive: The "innocence" of shorn pubes...but without a iota of crassness or malice.

In formula terms, there is a clear reference of aldehydics and florals of the past, intertextuality scatterings amidst the authoring, of which perfumer Chris Sheldrake surely was fully in control: the luster of both Chanel No.22and No.5, the cool vibrancy of powdered class of Iris Poudre by F.Malle, even the drydown phase of Le Male by Jean Paul Gaultier (a cologne formula almost entirely comprised by musks anyway)

For what it is, a delicate "white musk" composition, this Lutens creation issued in 2003 can be deemed overpriced, as there are indeed lots of musks of that concept (albeit not exactly of that stature, this is smoother than most) across different price points. And it is no match for more complex musk fragrances such as the delightful and lamentably discontinued Helmut Lang. It is superb for layering purposes nevertheless, if you're after that sort of thing, and it is among the easiest to approach in the eclectic Lutensian portfolio. However, my own personal preference is always the dirtier, cosier brother with the heavily-bearded visage, Muscs Kublaï Khan...

Although to any lover of classical music the instinctive association would be with Claude Debussy's Clair de Lune, I chose a different, less troden path, which is none the less evocative: "Dance with my own shadow" from Gioconda's Smile album by Greek composer Manos Hadjidakis. (set in a beautiful video by Omiros2)




Notes for Serge Lutens Clair de Musc:
bergamot, iris, neroli, jasmine, orange blossom, sandalwood, musk.

Clair de Musc is part of Serge Lutens export line, fragrances carried at select stores around the world, presented in the familiar oblong bottles of the brand.

Other noteworthy reviews: The Non Blonde, grain de musc, Pere de Pierre.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Scented Musketeers (musks reviews), The Musk Series: ingredients, classification, cultural associations

Screenshot from Les enfants du Paradis film, via screenshotworld blog

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

L'air de Rien by Miller Harris: fragrance review


Jane Birkin piqued the imagination of thousands when she sighed heavily throughout “Je t’aime, moi non plus”, the Gainsbourg song that Brigitte Bardot had refused to sing and which the Vatican renounced as sinful. Her personality, her insouciance and her contradicting fashion sense, embracing tattered T-shirts alongside the Hermes bag which got named after her, made her an idol that contrary to most should be graced with a celebrity scent. And so it has: Lynn Harris, nose of Miller Harris, surrounded her aura with a bespoke which launched publicly to the delight of many.
Here at Perfume Shrine we were quite taken with it and decided to post our two versions of what it means to us.

Enjoy!

By Denyse Beaulieu
I have never liked perfumes. I have always preferred to carry potpourri in my pocket. It was an interesting exercise in finding out what you don't like. All the things usually associated with heady, dark-haired women like hyacinth, tuberose and lily-of-the-valley made me vomit when they were enclosed in a bottle so this one is much more me – I wanted a little of my brother's hair, my father's pipe, floor polish, empty chest of drawers, old forgotten houses."

Jane Birkin’s quote in vogue.co.uk at the British launch of L’Air de Rien put me off trying the scent for quite a while. I love perfume, loathe potpourri, tuberose is one of my favourite notes and

never in a thousand years would I dream of smelling like Andrew Birkin’s hair – though I enjoy the films he wrote, such as The Name of the Rose and Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, his hair is not, frankly, his most appealing feature.
It took the combined pressure of Vidabo and Mimiboo, whose judgment I trust, for me to dig out my sample. Both were so taken I needed to know what, exactly, exerted such a pull – Vidabo compared it to what an avant-garde Guerlain could be.
It took several tests to “get” the elusive L’Air de Rien, which truly lives up to its name… In French, “l’air de rien” can be said of something that looks insignificant or valueless, deceptively easy (but could be the opposite). It can also be literally translated as something that “looks like nothing” – perhaps nothing we know. Something completely new, then, which, intriguingly, L’Air de Rien turned out to be.
Never has a composition behaved so capriciously in each encounter. The initial dab from the sample vial yielded nothing but a rather mild musk sweetened by neroli. Then a spray from a tester bottle was an outsize slap of oakmoss. Thinking my sample has gone off or come from a defective batch, I secured a second: musk again. Second spray, different tester bottle in a different shop: oakmoss redux.

Curiouser and curiouser … I turned to specialists to explain just why the two star notes refused to sit down and play together. I first contacted perfumer Vero Kern. She ventured that the difference in result was due to the difference in application: spraying would produce a much more ample development. She also suggested I contact Lyn Harris directly, which I did. She promptly responded:
As the creator of this fragrance, I do find it totally mysterious and magical. It almost seems to behave like a wine in the way it changes and evolves so much with age and on different skins. It is a very simple composition based around oakmoss, amber, neroli, vanilla and musk as Jane wanted and had to know exactly what was in it and I never wanted to deceive her. She completely loves oakmoss on its own so this had to come through the top notes as it does as you spray but also as the composition doesn’t have a lot of top and heart notes (…) Oak moss is the least tenacious material with the neroli and so this is most prevalent when you spray and then drops away on the dry down.

Mystery solved? Hardly. Mystery is truly at the heart of L’Air de Rien –how such a short, simple formula manages to create such depth of resonance. Almost as though the stripping of most head and middle notes, to delve directly into base notes, echoed the depth of intimate memories – and Jane Birkin is nothing if not a repository of memory, that of her long-time romantic partner and Pygmalion, singer-songwriter Serge Gainsbourg, whom she left in 1980 but whose songs she still performs. Indeed, in the eyes of the French public, she is still predominantly known and loved as the quirky, immensely moving English ingénue muse of the greatest French-language poet of the late 20th century…

L’Air de Rien’s heavy sexual gravity belies the sweetness of the musk-neroli marriage. The balsamic bitterness of the oakmoss sets off the dark, almost medicinal facet of the musk that can be found in Middle-Eastern perfumery – say, in the Tangiers perfumer Madini’s Black Musk or Musk Gazelle blends. It is the polar opposite of the more fashionable clean white musks of Narciso Rodriguez for Her or Sarah Jessica Parker Lovely. The ingénue has aged and weathered: she may slip feet dirty from wandering in dusty rooms or moist, rich gardens into scuffed, well-loved boots, no longer willing to seduce with a bat of her gazelle eyes, but on her own, mournful, timeless, terms. Or not at all.



By Elena Vosnaki
I will always remember Jane Birkin in French film of the 60s La Piscine starring Romy Schneider and Alain Delon: an erotic thriller of sorts, in which she ~long haired and surprisingly young~ moved her lithe limbs innocently doe-eyed. Her French pronunciation hilariously Brit ackward as she asked “Laquelle preferez-vous?” while rolling little pieces of bread with moist fingers into miniscule spheres, averting her eyes from Romy Schneider. This faux innocence has served her well in other roles too, such as the underneath conniving, outwardly gauche heroine of who-dunnit Evil under the Sun. In that one she even dons some other woman’s perfume to make her con more believable. We are talking about a character with perfumista clout, obviously. A scent starring oakmoss no less: one of the shining ingredients of L’air de Rien!

It is with the same mock innocence that L’air de Rien fools you into believing it is a simple musk fragrance. Musks of course have been a love of mine from ever since I recall first sampling one, a rite of passage. It was thus with a sense of exaltation that I put L’air de Rien on my skin. If nothing else it proved as unique and contradictory as the woman who inspired it. Like she said herself of her life:
"I don't know why people keep banging on about the '60s. I was very conventional because I came from a conventional family and I didn't go off with different people - I rather wish I had now, seeing all the fun everyone else was having"

If her perfume is meant to be worn “like a veil over one’s body”, then it is with Salome’s subversive power of being driven by a higher entity that one would do it. Only Salome wore multiple veils and here we only have a few: the notes of the fragrance progress so rapidly that one is confused as to the denouement.
There is cosiness and snuggliness aplenty. A strange feeling of humaness, as if a living and breathing human being has entered a dark, forgotten room in an old abandoned cottage in the Yorkshire countryside or the scriptorium in the The Name of the Rose; coincidentally among my most favourite novels (the film of course necessarily excised much of the esoterica of the book by Eco).
Like old parchment there is a bitter mustiness to L’air de Rien that gives a perverse, armospheric sexiness to the sweeter note of amber that clutches on to shadowy musk and oakmoss for dear life.

If you have secretly fantasized about having a roll on the floor of the dark kitchen in the murderous monastery of the above-mentioned film with a handsome young monk, then this is your scent. Literally nothing lay hidden underneath Valentina Vargas’ dirty cloak as she silently seduced Christian Slater with all the rough innocence of their respective youth and all the postcoital regret of the eternally unattainable.
Lacrimae mundi, tears of the world...


Click here for the famous nude scene from The Name of the Rose. Warning: Not office-suitable!




Pic of Jane Birkin and Charles Gainsbourg sent to me by mail unaccredited. Pic of Andrew Birkin from The Telegraph 2003. Artwork by Polish illustrator Zdzisław Beksiński courtesy of BekinskiOvh.org


Monday, June 16, 2008

Ti Amo, Amore Mio!

Living in Italy, Parma especially with its tradition of Verdi's operas, is like surrounding yourself by culture the way other people in other places are surrounded by skyscrapers, Taco Bells or hay fields full of cows. It just isn't quite the same!
Italian artist and jewellery designer Hilde Soliani is one such person, lucky to live and breathe around quality.
She has created five original perfumes inspired by five flowers, communicating universal love through an acronym for "I love you" (Ti Amo in Italian):
T.ulipano (red bottle- floral fruity woody - unisex)
I. ris (lilac bottle- floral woody musk- feminine)
A.nemone (orange bottle- woody aromatic- unisex)
M.argherita (blue bottle- floral- feminine)
O.rtensia (pink bottle- floral woody musk- feminine)

Just how she started designing fragrances recalls La Forza del Destino: a journalist seeded the idea. Hilde is primarily an artist ~she designs jewellery, she paints, she plays in the Parma theatre, using her voice and her body to convey her feelings. What started in jest and on a dare however, essentially a private hobby, has now become her "job".


“During a press conference for my first line of jewellery, I showed a line of candles for Valentine’s Day that each included a gold and diamond daisy necklace inside. To wear it you would have to burn half of the candle. The journalist
asked me if the candle was perfumed and of course it wasn’t.”
That put the idea in her head and after a few years her dream was realised in a line inspired by flowers. Flowers talked to Hilde because they made her feel good, they made her house special. The dice was cast and the Ti Amo line began in earnest {for those who read Italian, click to read a great interview}.
Each "flower" is an abstract rendition, rather than a faithful representation of nature (a couple of them don't even have a particular scent and she is not interested in a photorealistic approximation by her own admission). Each reminds Hilde of a precious memory: Tulipano is a memento of her father's voice and warmth. Iris stands for Italian elegance. Anemone recalls the scent of the Parman theatre. Margherita symbolises her happy childhood. Ortensia reminds her of the kiss of her beloved grandmother.
The scents also tell a fairy tale, "La Mia Daisy", inspired by Soliani's grandmother's daisy creation: the fictional story of a girl named Daisy, a five-act play with the happy ending of a discovery of an enchanted place: a touch that makes us dream again, like children. As Hilde says: “I want to bring art into daily life.” She enjoys art which expresses itself in a childlike, playful character.

"My grandmother, who made fragrances herself, teached me how to smell and create fragrance since I was a child. During my business travells I always had nice experiences, nice emotions. I try to capture them by pictures but they don't smell of anything: that's why I wanted to recreate those feelings in scent".
Hilde art-directs the fragrances with the help of experienced perfumers in Milano and Grasse.

Tulips are often taken to be scentless, however the deep yellow varieties do possess a hint of primrose odor about them, which makes them not entirely wasted on those who hanker after odoriferous rather than merely decorative blooms. Upon smelling Tulipano I was surprised to find that it was described as a fruity floral; it had an intriguing bitter edge to it to make it truly unique. Luckily the usual aspect of most commercial fruity florals is missing. In our conversation, instigated by my interest in the line, she told me she likes to produce what she likes, not what focus grousp want, loyal to artisanal values. Hilde's vision of a tulip inspired by the Vulcano island in Sicily and its black beaches scattered with little red wildflowers has elements of freesia and blackcurrant, which is an interesting mix that plays upon the tart bitterness of the fruit to bring balance with the underscoring of sandalwood and cool vetiver, making it a fiery fragrance fit to be shared by both sexes.

"I am very gourmand and it is a nice experience to find the smell of coffee or something to eat inside flowers", Hilde divulged during our discussion. Her point is amply revealed in the opening accord of Iris, a fantasy suave mix of delectable Sicilian almond with the soft touch of iris and sandalwood, producing an easy, comforting fragrance which smiles a little inwardly and could even nibble on a macaroon or two. In the direction that Iris Ganache cemented with its gourmand touch on what is essentialy a bulby, earthy smell (that of iris root) and by smoothing out the rough, too bitter edges of popular Hypnotic Poison without resorting to too sweet however, Iris by Soliani manages to have a disposition that bypasses the metallic aspects of the raw material for an abstract powdery effect that makes even non almond-lovers, such as myself, swoon. Musky and almost vanillic, lightly honeyed accords surface making Iris particularly suited to people who have had bad luck with traditional iris scents.

I didn't need to hear that Margherita was inspired by a happy childhood. The fact projects from every pore. A solar, happy scent, much like intended, with its garlands of orange blossom and green-smelling muguet along with shamrock-like leaves which sing basking the sun. It never missed the chance to put me in a good mood ever time I wore my sample with its slightly carnation-like/ivy feel about it that could entice those who like an innuendo of spice. Pronouncely musky in a modern way it lends itself easily to a variety of occasions, making it a perfect everyday scent for when one wants to let their hair down and relax.
I found Ortensia a little sweet for my taste, with an emphasis on the sweeter aspect of white florals, white musks and cosy Cashmere Woods providing a green touch surprisingly upon drying down, yet pleasant as well.

Notes:
Tulipano: Bergamot, blackberry, lime, peach, kiwi, passion fruit, freesia, lily of the valley, jasmine, vetiver, sandal, oak musk, white musk.
Iris: lily of the valley, green accord, iris, jasmine, mimosa, sandalwood, white musk
Anemone: Orange blossom, tulip, ivy and galbanum, tuberose, lily of the valley, jasmine and cyclamen, white musk, vetiver and sandalwood.
Margherita (Daisy): Orange flowers, ivy leaves, galbanum, bluebell, honeysuckle, jasmine, lily of the valley, rose, tuberose, white musk, and ambregris.
Ortensia: Green accord, hortensia, ylang ylang, jasmine orange flowers, lily of the valley, rose, white musk, cashmere wood, and cedar wood.

The fragrances come in Eau de Parfum concentration with 14% essence and last very well. The boxes reproduce Hilde's paintings: a lively mixture of chromatic packages made with new print technologies on special paper. On one side of each Hilde has written her fairy tale, La Mia Daisy. The bottles bear the designer's elegant handwriting.

The Ti Amo line is currently sold exclusively at New London Pharmacy NYC (tel:212.243.4987 / 800.941.0490): 50ml for 75$
Hilde Soliani samples are now available for : 1 ml $3.50, 2.5 ml $7.00, 5 ml $12.00, 8 ml $19.20 at Fishbone Fragrances.

I can provide a couple of Tulipano samples for those who are quick enough to comment and claim them!

Perfume Shrine exclusive on the even more exciting Soliani New Line inspired by Teatro Reggio Parma: Soon on these pages!





Artwork by Hilde Soliani via the artist and artprocess.net


Monday, April 21, 2008

Ineke: Fragrant Presentation

It is often that I am taken by surprise in not having sampled lines which are making a ripple in the pond of niche perfumery: After all one can test only so much! My surprise turned into elation when I got the Deluxe Sample Pack that contains samples of all the current collection by Ineke. Not only is the presentation modern and aesthetically fabulous, it has the distinct air of care and understated luxury printed all over it. Coming in an anthracite box of velvety feel it opens like a matchbox to reveal five small cardboard boxes with different designs on them which you slide to open. Inside are little spray vials (actually there's quite enough quantity in each to allow for numerous tests!), each wrapped in correspondingly coloured paper. So cute! Perhaps the loveliest presentation of fragrances I have seen in sample form and a lesson for all niche brands.
The fragrances themselves reveal vignettes in Ineke's mind which she was searching a way to communicate to the public, given her preceding love for literature.

Ineke Rühland is a Canadian perfumer, the soul behind the Ineke line. She is a classically-trained perfumer who creates beautiful, original scents in her independent studio in San Francisco. She studied perfumery at ISIPCA in Versailles, France (the only official school of perfumery), under the guidance of Yves de Chiris who also helped her train at Quest thereafter and with formidable mentors such as Dominique Ropion and Isabel Doyen.
She apprenticed for three years at a fragrance house in Paris, making pilgrimages to Grasse, perfume capital of the world. Ineke finally decided to move to San Franciso, where she makes her luminous, modern fragrances.

The innovation of the collection is that each fragrance begins with a consecutive letter of the alphabet: A - After My Own Heart; B - Balmy Days and Sundays; C - Chemical Bonding; D - Derring-Do; E-Evening edged in Gold (the latest which came out recently). This original concept allows for both a little literary word play as the fragrant stories pick up from a word starting with each letter and it also serves as a wonderfully practical reminder of which perfume is the latest one, easing the customer into experiencing the evolution of the line.

The Deluxe Sample Collection contains spray samples of all 5 fragrances wrapped in a beautiful soft box with almost the tactile feel of brushed suede and the price is fully redeemable with any product purchase: A great way to try the scents!

After My Own Heart, which Ineke describes as "the scent of fresh lilacs floating on the early breeze" will get a full review shortly. To whet your appetite, I will merely state that it is a soft, subtly sweet, realistic enough lilac scent full of the airy feel of mid-spring. Lilac is an elusive blossom (because it can't be successfully distilled or a true essence extracted) which I dearly hold close to my heart indeed, so some more attention will be given to this one on Perfume Shrine. It has notes of bergamot, raspberry, green foliage, lilac, sandalwood, heliotrope and musk.

Balmy Days and Sundays veers towards a green floral scent with a lightly earthy backnote. It derives its name from The Carpenters' song "Rainy Days And Sundays" but it is in fact its antithesis. Sunny, optimistic and laid back, not rainy at all. Officially described as "a perfume about perfect moments on a relaxing Sunday, lying in the grass, breathing the smells of sweet scented flowers and fragrant leaves", it encompasses notes of freesia, leafy greens, grass, honeysuckle, rose, mimosa, a chypre accent and musk. There is an ozonic note mingled with the freesias that somehow doesn't clinch it for me, although I have to admit that it is not the usual screechy ozonic that we have come to associate with 90s perfumery. The feel is limpid and airy, without the dreaded feel of getting your nose hairs singed by the intense icy "freshness".

Chemical Bonding has uplifting citrus notes with a powdery, clean musk dry down. It is a fragrance that "playfully juxtaposes Chemistry 101 principles with human attraction", comprised of notes of smooth citrus cocktail, tea, blackberry, dewy peony, vetiver, amber and powdery musk. Although musk (as well as powder and vetiver) always catches my attention and I was fully prepared to love this above all others, it proved to be my least favorite in the lineup. Perhaps it is the wrong feel of fresh, a little too high pitched for what I imagined as a soft powdery and earthy with the grass musk. However I can fully see how it fits a summery mood of laid-back lifestyle, cotton clothes drying in the breeze and a cool juice sipped on a bright morning shared between a loving couple.

Derring Do is "an ode to the literary rogue" and comes from old English; a masculine with aromatic touches in the fougère family. Built on a fresh citrus blend, rain notes, cyclamen, magnolia, fougère accents, cardamom, pepper, guaiacwood, cedarwood and musk, the composition is really pleasant, soft and nicely unisex with its subdued woods and spices.
With its effortless character it managed to garner two compliments the day I wore it and its remnants on skin were beckoning me to apply again and again.

Evening Edged in Gold is a departure for the line in that it misses that sparse and translucent feel of the Jean Claude Ellena and Olivia Giacobetti school of thought going instead for a full bodied floriental that aims at serious evening seduction. Like munching Life Savers and plums under a blossoming tree in the heart of summer, it shows that Ineke has diversity and explores new horizons. Who knows what the next one will bring! It comprises notes of notes of osmanthus, plum, angel's trumpet, saffron, cinnamon bark, midnight candy, leather and woods. Angel's Trumpet and Midnight Candy are both plants (poisonous! closely related to datura) which project their sweet smell far in the evening breeze to aid pollination. Their magic is rendered through synthesis and married to the heavenly apricoty aroma of osmanthus, a flower prized in the East, they render a charming composition with a subtle leathery, slightly spicy and woodsy drydown that holds the whole in check, vaguely reminiscent of Daim Blond by Lutens.

Fragrances come in a sparse, hefty glass bottle of 75ml/2.5oz Eau de Parfum concentration and retail at 88$.
They are available at: Beautyhabit, Takashimaya, Begdorf Goodman, Fred Segal, Louis Boston, Luilei online, Holt Renfrew in Canada, Liberty in the UK, Bioty Bar in France, Sundhaft in Munich and Department Store Quartier 206 in Berlin, Germany, Profumeria Scarazinni in Milan, Italy and with plans to expand in many more countries (take a look for full list of stores)
To try the Ineke Deluxe Sample Pack, click here.

Pics through Ineke.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Chypre series 2: Ingredients

Perfume lovers are well aware of the fact that "notes" in perfume denote only the feel that certain ingredients emote and not necessarily the exact ingredients that go into the composition of the final product. Such is the case with chypre perfumes as well.
Although we described the traditional elements inherent to the tradition of chypre perfumes in the previous article in the series, this serves only as a guidance to constituents playing a greater or smaller part in the art of composing. Each variant highlights a slightly different note or places emphasis on something that distinguishes it from other members of its class.

Modern synthetic aromachemicals also play a part in this process. The conventional notes of bergamot, oakmoss, civet, rose, neroli, vetiver, angelica, sandalwood and the herbal touches of thyme, tarragon and basil are joined thus by linalyl acetate, amyl salicylate and the characteristic note of safrole or isosafrole. The latter is a composition of the German firm Heine, circulating under the name Product EM.
This note has been called the very thing that assures the perfume's success and it is based on oakmoss, labdanum, liquidambar, linalyl acetate and possibly several floral essences that give that special abstract florancy characteristic to chypre compositions.

Although most people marginally into perfume tend to view chypres as the equivalent of a J.S.Bach fugue, all complicated themes recurring as the perfume evolves on the skin making for a formula that is highly sophisticated and which demands originality and expert handling from the perfumer, it has been proposed that in fact the contrary is much more the case.

The formula of a chypre is strict and allows less of a leeway for producing something that would risk being an abject failure, so a lack of imagination might be attributed to houses that might bring out new perfumes in the genre falling back on what is more or less a "safe bet". This is what prompted Maurice Chevron to remark: "It is simply beef stake". The culinary comment denoting that it is something standard, proper, always good with whatever twist you make it.

Chypre perfumes according to the elements that they highlight are classified into subcategories, named after the element they bring into the flesh on the classic chypre skeleton.
Therefore according to the French Society of Perfumers the basic subcategories are:
Floral chypre
Floral aldehydic chypre
Green chypre
Fruity chypre
Aromatic chypre
Leathery chypre

Another category, termed "coniferous chypre" might be included, encompassing heavier use of resins. And one might argue that leather/cuir is a category on its own (which it is), leaving legends such as Bandit by Piguet, Cabochard by Gres or Cuir de Russie by Chanel into a chypre limbo. For the purposes of this series, we will give those leathery compositions permission to rest into chypre heaven and play the harp to the skies. Or hell, in select cases...

To understand what goes into the production of each category one might glimpse the lists stated in professional handbooks. I therefore present you with some examples from an older textbook on the subject.
In the interests of journalistic ethics/deontology the exact measurements have been ommitted in the following breakdowns.

The ingredients below form the body of an aldehydic chypre (the name of aromachemical company that produces the ingredient in parenthesis):

Rose No.1
Ysminia (Firmenich)
Jasmin absolute
Oakmoss absolute superessence, Yugoslav (Schmoller)
Bergamot oil
Oakmoss absolute (Camilli)
Jasmin No.1
Geranium sur rose oil
Methyl ionone
Vetiver oil
Sandalwool oil
Linalool ex bois de rose
Dianthine (Firmenich)
Eugenol
Hydroxycitronellal
Gardenia 9058 (Givaudan)
Costus absolute 10%
Mace oil
Florizia (Firmenich)
Tincture of Musk, 3%
Tincute of Civet, 3%
Musk ambrette
Musk ketone
Coumarin
Vanillin
Aldehyde C.10, 1%
Aldehyde C.11 (undecyclenic) 1%
Aldehyde C.12 (MNA) 10%


Another characteristic chypre base contains the following:

Coumarin
Vanillin
Ethyl vanillin
Heliotropin
Methyl ionone
Musk ketone
Rose H
Orange oil, bitter, Guinea
Geraniol extra
Bois de Rhodes oil (Chiris-UOP)
Noisette (de Laire)
Sandalwood oil
Benzoin Supergomodor (Chiris-UOP)
Liquidambar II
Labdanum Clair (Lautier)
Linalool ex bois de rose Cayenne
Linalyl acetate ex bois de rose
Terpinyl acetate
Benzyl acetate
Vetiver acetate
Estragon (tarragon) oil 5%
isoButylquinolin 5%
Ysminia (Firmenich)
Bergamot oil, sesquiterpeneless
Bergamot oil

And here there is a distinctively 'animal' note in a chypre base.

Oakmoss absolute hyperessence (Charabot)
Jasmin absolute
Musc VH (Ets. Hasslauer) 10%
Musc baume epure (Payan & Bertrand)10%
Ambergris tincture
Civet tincture
Musk ketone
alpha-Methyl ionone
Sandalwood oil
Vetiver oil
Bergamot oil
Rose No.3
Bouvardia CNC (Firmenich)
Carrot Clair (Lautier) 10%
Celery Clair (Lautier) 10%
Tobacco W (I.F.F.)
Aldehyde C.11 (undecylenic) 10%
Cyclopentadecanolide 1%
Orange oil superdèterpenèe (Charabot)
Celery seed oil
Angelica root oil

This formula is for a modified chypre perfume with a peach top note. Does this remind you of anything?


Ysminia (Firmenich)
Wardia (Firmenich)
Benzyl acetate
Orange oil, sweet
Jasmin absolute
Vetiveryl acetate
Cedryl acetate (Givaudan)
Sandalwood oil (Mysore)
Lavender oil, Barrême 42% esters
isoEugenol
Amyl salicylate
Bergamot oil
Lemon oil, Guinea
Methyl ionone
Ylang-ylang oil
Oakmoss decolorèe (Robertet)
Patchouli oil
Petitgrain oil, paraguay
Indole
Citral
Aurantiol
Dimethyl benzyl carbinol
Hydroxycitronellal
I-citronellol
Geranium extra
Fennel oil
Black pepper oil
Coumarin
Musk ketone
Civettone
Ambrettozone (Haarmann & Reimer)
Ambrarome Absolute (Synarome)
Clove bud oil
Aldehyde (pseudo) C.18, 10%
Aldehyde (pseudo) C.16, 10%
Aldehyde C.14 ('peach'), 10%

Of course there are several restrictions on ingredients, both natural and synthetic, some caused by concerns on their allergenic nature or possibility for producing a hives reaction on certain skins. Eugenol, coumarin, geraniol to name but a few are clearly stated in the ingredients on the package by law. Some others have even been linked to cancers, such as musk ketone, and therefore heavily axed.
And of course there have been several others that have been cut out simply due to unavailability, ethics or extreme cost, such as natural animalic notes in the vein of castoreum, civet, deer musk and natural ambergris.

The most controversial though has been oakmoss, a natural tree lichen that grows on oak trees and which forms the backbone of a traditional chypre. For more in depth info on this ingredient and the controversy it has spawned recently due to the IFRA guidelines for the production of perfume as well as the EU laws, I guide you to my previous article, on which Luca Turin had the good grace to comment on.
You can access it by clicking here.



Next installement will occupy itself with another interesting aspect of chypre perfumery.




Top pic sent to me by mail unaccredited, second pic courtesy of athinorama.gr

Friday, May 25, 2012

Perfume Term: Animalic Notes, the Skanky Smell of Sexy

Frequenting perfume discussion communities and reading reviews online you often come across the term "animalic". Though its evocation is that of...animal, obviously, its significance is more layered, less simple, as we will explore.

 Technically the term isn't even in the dictionary, or at the very least it is defined as "of or concerning animals". Yet the full story isn't restricted to that. Simply put an animalic perfume might do two things: 1)contain animal-derived products, i.e. raw materials directly harvested from animal sources or 2) evoke the animal in you, i.e. producing that "animalic growl" we associate with...well, you know.
I am going to explain both in detail, just let it be said in passing that the quoted phrase above was first used by (sadly) long-defunct blogger Cognoscenti back when she described scent in a visceral, highly imaginative way, both on her blog and on MakeupAlley. From then on, it caught on with most perfume reviewers online to the point it's become a foregone conclusion to almost hear the sound before reading the words.

But the etymology of "animalic" in perfumery has more to do with perfume molecule producing company Synarome's "perfumer's base" (i.e.a ready-made chord of complimentary ingredients for use when composing perfumes) called Animalis; a feral, thick mixture with prominent civet and castoreum (both traditionally animal-derived products),  a claster of musks and costus root (To get an idea, this base is featured in both vintage Piguet Visa and in Vierge et Toreros by Etat Libre d'Orange and possibly Twill Rose by Parfums de Rosine). Actually, for accuracy's sake, Synarome has not one but two Animalis bases in their arsenal: Animalis 1745-03 (which is Tonkin musk like, very musky) and Animalis 5853 with woody and sensuous notes.


The first explanation of animalic refering to animal-derived ingredients is rather a fantasy than a fact nowadays nevertheless, since most companies ~major and niche, high-end and lower-end~ have stopped using these ingredients, either due to ethical reasons for the safe-keeping of the animals, or due to the high costs associated, or due to legislation forbidding the use of certain of them (for instance owning ambergris is considered illegal in certain countries).

Traditionally animal harvested ingredients included fecal and perineum region gland essences from the Tibetan deer musk (Tonquin musk), civet (from the civet cat Civettictis civeta, technically not a cat at all), castoreum (from beavers) and ambergris (from the sperm whale). Of those four, only ambergris can be said not to hurt, irritate or threaten the animal in any way, as it is naturally excreted by the whale and found floating in the ocean. You can consult the links for more info on each and every one of those ingredients.
The reason such essences were used for centuries is because they instilled a warmth that morphed other ingredients into greatness (this is especially true of civet which lets floral essences "bloom" on the skin; see the classic Tabu which uses civet to reinforce the carnality call of jasmine, carnation & patchouli and was actively briefed as un parfum de puta to its perfumer Jean Carles!). Or they acted as fixatives, i.e. prolonging the duration of the aromatic components enough so that they do not evaporate as quickly (for instance the musk base in the traditional Eau de Cologne was meant to provide a little bit of anchoring to the fleeting hesperidic top notes and the herbal heart).

They were also useful in producing certain "notes", for instance castoreum was often used as a "leather scent note" in leather perfumes. Makes sense as real urine (alongside cow dung and other animal essences) were traditionally used to treat hides in tanneries, lending hides a distinctly animalic scent which needed further "masking" with flowers. Did I just spoil your luxe fantasies? Sorry....
A good example where the leathery scent is clearly "animalic" -as in sweaty, horsey hide- is Paco Rabanne's La Nuit. A subtler example where the musky note recalls circus animals droppings amidst the sawdust smelled from afar is Dzing! by L'Artisan Perfumeur.And yet, these are fabulous perfumes, polarising yes, but with a strange pull to them.
These animalistic notes can also be provocative as hell; see Kiehl's Original Musk Musc Ravageur by Editions de Parfums F.Malle , the intensely animal-like Ajmal Musk Gazelle or the undulating between polite society & barnyard tryst L'Air de Rien by Miller Harris. The effect? Same as in 1950s and 1960s trend of wearing leopard or cheetah-printed coats and accessories; there's something dangerous, wild, untamed about the person sporting such an item, be it fashions or perfume.

But animal-derived ingredients can expand (and indeed they have in many artisanal lines today) into more esoteric things than just musky smells, like "African stone" (dried excrement from hyrax, a small rodent, like in Lord Jester's Dionysus) or choya nak (essence from toasted sea-shells, such as in Fairchild by natural perfumer Anya mcCoy of Anya's Garden). The olfactory effects rendered by these innovative, non-classical essences can be surprising and very pleasing: Although initially sounding strange, they manage to evoke the intimacy and warmth of living things. Which is the whole point of "animalic" in the first place, isn't it.
Even indolic perfume notes or some varieties of synthesized musk fragrances (containing none of the natural deer musk) can fall into the umbrella of "animalic" should they be given a proper context to shine. Cumin can smell intimate like sweat if it's treated in a rich composition with spices. Costus root can be reminiscent of unwashed hair, in more intimate places than just head, as in vintage Fille d'Eve by Nina Ricci. Cassie can come across as womanly, ripe for the plucking. The mastery lies in the perfumer knowning what he/she's after.

The second explanation of the term "animalic" is perhaps more tortured, possibly the most elusive. How does one define what "brings out the animal", or maybe the anima -if we're to use Jungian terms- in you? Surely attraction, arousal, excitement of the senses is a highly individual thing. And why has this been tied to "dirty" smells, as in smells pertaining to the armpit, the vulva, the penis, the anus, the urethra and the region therein? As Jean Paul Guerlain, master perfumer at Guerlain perfume, used to say about his perfumes, they were made to subtly evoke his mistress's more intimate regions and that involved all three holes. Of course older Guerlains, before the times of Jean Paul, can be naughty in a more discreet way; Mouchoir de Monsieur or Voilette de Madame hide a polite civet note in there.
What is it about our nether regions that is so olfactorily attractive, as if we were dogs sniffing each other in the butt while exchanging social hellos?


Animalic is largely a subjective term in this sense pertaining to perfume (no one's crotch smells exactly the same as the person's next to them), especially since perfume is conceived and traditionally used as an adornment that should elevate us over our basest instincts; a sort of sophistication and refinement that differentiates man from beast. This is an interesting dichotomy and at the same time an irony. Some of the most revered and masterful fragrances are indeed comprised from base smells, smells of the lower instincts. But I wonder, how is man able to elevate himself over the animal if beforehand he doesn't embrace the animal in him and rejoice in its constituents?

Apparently when speaking about animalic perfumes there are a few parameters peeking through as a constant. An animalic scent should be warm, rich, creating an aura of lived-in things (this is in part the allure of "skin scents"), maybe a tad pungent, but overall giving off sexiness; sexiness in the sense of actually making you think about sex, not just media-broadcasted images of what we should consider sexy (perky full breasts, chiseled pectorals, globulal butts, you name it), but sexy as in down and dirty, in all our imperfections, in all our natural secretions sans deodorant.
This is why animalic is often uttered in the same breath as "skanky smelling", a term coined to denote on the one hand the sickly sweetish scent of skanks the animals themselves (with which many have not unpleasant associations), but also the promiscuous and physical nature of "skanks", the women who don't employ subtlety in their seduction routine, to put it politely. What is it about an overt display of sexuality that is so compelling, be it a manifestation in a feminine or a masculine fragrance interchanged between the sexes? What is it about smell which brings us to our more primitive level when the instinct of procreation, the instinct of sexual desire, the desire for life is conquering even the omnipresent fear of death?


In that regard, animalic scents can be said to encompass a wide grey area of fragrance taxonomy, from the outwardly civet-trumpeting fecal nuances such as in Bal a Versailles by Jean Desprez, the classic Schocking by Sciaparelli (based on a woman's odorata sexualis) and Tolu by Ormonde Jayne to the musk-evocing Muscs Kublai Khan (with added civet and castoreum notes) and Bois et Musc by Serge Lutens ~as well as the more hidden sexuality of musks & once real, now synthetic, civet in the drydown of lady-like Chanel No.5. There's the civet in "parfum de puta" (whore's brew) Tabu by Dana; this was verbatim the brief!

And from there to even more distant, unthought of arpeggios; such as the cumin-laced Femme by Rochas and Kingdom by Alexander McQueen; the ripe garbage stink beneath the lemon and melon freshness of Diorella; the cassie absolute in Une Fleur de Cassie (F.Malle) or the intense urinous scent of Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent and the gloriously honeyed "piss" in Absolue pour le Soir (Maison F.Kurkudjian) and Miel de Bois (Serge Lutens) ~thanks to the alchemy of phenylacetic acid. Chanel Antaeus and Yatagan by Caron are also rich in questionable scents, but oh so compelling. Yatagan by Caron is this direction's logical zenith.
Even citrusy, vivacious things can hide a sweaty, dirty skin quality beneath fresh notes (usually neroli and petitgrain are perfect foils for this sort of sweat scent masking, as they share a common component with sweat). Eau d'Hermès is one such example. Cartier Déclaration is another. Not coincidentally, the latter is loosely inspired by the former.

Sometimes the animal just lurks in the shadow, intimidating and breath-taking...Onda by Vero Profumo certainly creates that image; we sense its habitat, we guess it's there. Givenchy Gentleman is menacing. Sometimes it's in plain sight, more apparent and therefore less suggestive; think of the male parts smell that Rose Poivrée by The Different Company used to have until recently.

Animalic scents can create fear, like sex itself and its sheer potency has created fear in the minds of puritans and church-abiding citizens who made the rules in the past, in an effort to control what is perhaps most liberating in humans, sex drive itself. But animalic scents can also create real lust, intellectual appreciation and that most prized sentiment of them all: empathy for the human condition...

Which are YOUR OWN favorite animalic perfumes?

mouchoir de monsieur bottle pic via  insidekevinguyer.blogspot.com, of Dzing bottle via parfum-photo.livejournal.com

Friday, June 23, 2017

The Body Shop Red Musk: fragrance review

When I first discovered The Body Shop I was a teenager. This also happened to be a time when the company was run by its founder, Anita Roddick, and not by the conglomerate that is L'Oreal. It gave a wholesomeness to the concept which I sorely miss.

via
I also miss (sorely!) some of those fabulous, early perfume oils with imaginative and totally incongruent names: Japanese Musk, Azmaria, Ananya and Woody Sandalwood (the latter was a huge hit on my crush!). These are no more... Thankfully, in an array of mainstream and much more forgettable scents that get discontinued at seemingly lighting speed, there are still a couple The Body Shop fragrances that manage to capture my interest. The latest has been Red Musk.

I discovered Red Musk on the recommendation of a friend from a fragrance board and I thank her for it. I bought the perfume oil on the spot and didn't regret it. The advertising copy insists this is a spicy and unconventional fragrance for fiery situations, but what I get is the cozy core of the original White Musk powdery scent drydown, ornamented with the lushest tobacco and dried fruits overlay. In a way it's like a lighter, subtler Burberry London for Men, a very fetching scent in its own right. Red Musk is like a fluffy terry robe that a handsome man who smokes pipe tobacco with apricot flavor has worn for a few days; it has that soft, enveloping lived-in feeling that is both a consolation and a longing, and I happen to be a total sucker for this kind of scents. Maybe you are, too?

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Serge Lutens Bois et Musc: Fragrance Review & a Draw

Among the four variations on the original Féminité du Bois, which in 1992 catapulted Les Salons business into the niche market (namely Bois de Violette, Bois et Fruits, Bois Oriental and Bois et Musc), this one is possibly the most polished, the most seamless, the most like natural skin scent and yet the lesser known. The latter possibly because it has never so far been issued in the export line, resolutely remaining a Parisian exclusive. Alongside Un Bois Sépia, Un Bois Vanille, Santal Blanc and Santal de Mysore, these woody fragrances form part of an informal family pegged as "Les Eaux Boisées" which cemented the Lutensian canon as we know it today.

Bois (pronounced "bwah") means of course woods and Bois et Musc is a fragrance which marries the two components of the name exactly as promised, in equal measure; first experienced in rapid succession (woods first, musk second), then in unison. The synergy of Moroccan cedar and smooth musk is at the core, while the usual Lutens accord of spice & dried fruits, with which he has invested his orientalised compositions for long, is subdued to the point of transparency. I seem to detect a creamy note of rosy sandalwood too, even though it is not officially mentioned, like those traditional incense beads fashioned in India and the Middle-East. The effect cannot be described as anything less than silky...
This is a fragrance which enters the scene like a shy guest who radiates the room with their quiet presence even though they don't utter a single word and are bespectacled. You'd be hard-pressed to find dainty features, or beauty writ large over them, but they just exude a positive energy that surrounds every living thing within a one-foot radius. Contemplative, sensuous, brainy with the kind of wits that don't show off. Compared with the other Bois variations on Féminité du Bois, it is closer to Bois de Violette, but without the shadowy ambery backdrop.

Bois et Musc is totally unisex, completely ageless and a superb skin-scent (i.e. smelling like human skin would if only angels and devils had cradled it), what the French call "à fleur de peau". Possibly, the idea which perfumer Christopher Sheldrake had in mind when describing a "sexy", attractive scent. And this is even more so the case than in Clair de Musc which misses by an inch via its opaline soapy florals that read as ethereal. In contrast this is nothing like a white musk: In fact it's closer to intimate and impolite, but it's so noble that it invests naughtiness with impecable manners. A sort of Fanny Ardant in a François Truffaut film, totally French.

Amidst subtle woody musks, this Lutens stands as a personal favourite ever since I had sampled it during a rather rushed visit (I had exited craddling a bell jar of La Myrrhe which had just been issued and which is also beautiful). Bois et Musc would make a wonderful musk choice for anyone who finds the concept of animalistic and outré Muscs Kublai Khan ~which I love, love, love~ quite attractive, but is leery of wearing such a potent musk outside the bedroom.

Bois et Musc is a Paris exclusive, sold at Les Salons du Palais Royal only, in the beautiful bell-jars of the exclusive line 75ml Eau de Parfum for 110 euros.

For our readers: One lucky reader will receive a big-sized decant of this exceptional, Paris exclusive fragrance. Comment if you want to be eligible. Draw will be open till Sunday midnight.



Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Scented Musketeers (musks reviews), The Musk Series: ingredients, classification, cultural associations


Photo from the film La femme d'à côté (Woman next door) by François Truffaut, 1981.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Farmacia SS Annunziata Talc Gourmand, Sweet Musk & Vetiver Incenso: 3 new fragrances

Xllence, the new line of fragrances of niche Italian brand Farmacia SS. Annunziata from 1561 is an embarassment of riches: three huge eaux de parfum in 250ml bottles with a retro pump atomiser- Talc Gourmand, Sweet Musk and Vetiver Incenso.

Farmacia SS.Annunziata came aboard the "luxury with abandon" bandwagon of XXL containers rather later than others (Chanel, Hermes), perhaps dispelling two myths: the two drops of perfume worn by Marilyn Monroe in bed or that size doesn't matter. The new collection aims to please different tastes at any rate, including gourmand notes, musk and vetiver.

Soft and sweet, Talc Gourmand eschews the liveliness of the top notes in favour of powdery, talc-like notes softened by a touch of honey and caramel. In the heart vanilla, heliotrope and chocolate melts on a woody-sweet base composed of sandalwood and tonka bean.
Sweet Musk focuses on a heart of musk, sensualised by the inclusion of rose and jasmine on top. Musk gains in seductive wiles, underscored by velvety vanilla, amber and patchouli.

Infused with the aroma of spices on woods, Vetiver Incenso on the other hand rests on a complex scheme of citrus-spicy top notes (lemon, bergamot, grapefruit and ginger), seguing to a spicy-woody heart (juniper and pink pepper) and woody-amber notes in the final phase (oak moss, patchouli, amber and cedar wood)The main accord of incense-vetiver oscillates between warm and cool.

The new Xllence line by Farmacia SS. Annunziata comes in Eau de Parfum concentration of 250 ml.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Narciso Rodriguez Musk Collection: new fragrances

Narciso Rodriguez, the man under whose name one of the most successful and prolific (in its influence to the market at large, the precursor of the nouveau chypre) new feminine fragrances was first issued, Narciso For Her (2004), is unstopable.
Not only he brought out the masculine counterpart Narciso For Him in 2007 and Essence last spring but he is now issuing a Musk Collection (There is a similar project of light musks collection masterminded by Tom Ford, launching soon).
The two versions of Her and Him will be limited editions in shiny bottles (a nod to Essence's terrific facade?). Narciso Rodriguez for Her limited edition Musk introduces musk in the central role, along with notes of ylang-ylang, jasmine and orange blossom. Narciso Rodriguez for Him limited edition Musk, will fuse musk with essences of iris and red berries.

The bottles come in 50ml/1.7oz and will cost 62 and 44 euros respectively. Launching September 1st.
They look good!


Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The differences between concentrations of Narciso For Her, NR Essence fragrance review, Upcoming Releases

Pics via punmiris

Monday, February 20, 2017

Dame Perfumery New Musk Oil: fragrance review

There are as many types of musk as there are flowers in the field. Musk has diverged from a single ingredient to a pleiad of genres within a scent group. Although most divide musks roughly into either the "clean" or "dirty" camp, depending on whether they replicate respectively laundry detergent ingredients or the nether region gland secretions of a small animal, it is possible to profit of both worlds.

via


New Musk Oil belongs to the first camp, yet, without embracing any characteristic of the second, it manages to eschew the clinical sterility that some of its compatriots share. It's clean to the degree that a freshly washed apricot fruit is clean enough to eat. But that does not detract from the fact that it's a succulent, living thing in the palm of your hand, and that you can feel the palpitations of your own heart settle down as you consume it in abandoned pleasure. New Musk Oil is like that; it possesses an unusual fruity quality about it, under the primness of the more standard lily of the valley that's par for the course within this genre of clean musky scents, which recalls an apricot flavor. In fact I'd venture that it shares DNA with another lightly apricot-tinged fragrance in the line, namely Soliflore Osmanthus (osmanthus is a tree with small apricot-smelling blossoms). Makes sense.

Considering that the sensuous application of an oil to one's skin uses touch as the cornerstone of predisposing for the "my skin but better" effect, and that New Musc Oil shares the exact same formula with the alcohol-based New Musk Man cologne, I'd say that with this pretty and lasting oil from Dame Perfumery Scottsdale has won the hearts of women. Not only in the capacity of being attracted to the man who wears the scent, but in the capacity of claiming the oil as their very own.

Like the best out there it looks wholesome but holds a treasure of nuance inside. 

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Mystery of Musk Project: Kickstarting with Kewdra by Anya's Garden

The Mystery of Musk began as an innovative project in which natural perfumers tried to render a viable, sustainable animalic musk through non-animal sources. As we had announced, the time has come and now we're reaping the benefits of that effort. Samples have flown across the globe, mixing the arcane with the imaginative and the puzzling, challenging us into coming up with the right words to do them justice. Expect to see posts tackling these new perfumes and a giveaway of a whole bottle of them tomorrow. So check up daily for news and updates!

As homage to the instigator of the project and the president of the Natural Perfumers' Guild, I decided to kickstart with Anya McCoy, no stranger to these pages, whom most of you know from her fragrance line Anya's Garden. Literally, as she grows all sort of interesting and lush things in her Miami Shores garden, things that would take your breath away.
Her entry? Kewdra, a “modern Indian-style musk perfume”, inspired by Alobar’s Hindu beloved, the highly-fragrant Kudra, as featured in Tom Robbins’ famous novel Jitterbug Perfume. Anya introduced it thus: Kudra surely loved the Kewda flower of her native India and would have blended it as a masala formula that spread the gardenia and boronia flowers in a seamless heart that beats over the Kama-Sutra evocative "smell of your lover's skin" base notes.

Natural perfumes create their own web of intricacy, their drawbacks just as a many as their advantages, the challenge lying into making the materials pliable and tenacious enough to conform to classic perfumery needs. Pandanus has been already used in her unique Fairchild while an animalic note from the most improbable source (tincture of a real living rutting billie goat's hair) was explored in Pan. So you could say that Anya knows more than a few things about how to construct a complex animalic.
Pandanus flower- aka Kewda or Kewra- is the star performer in the new fragrance, a diva-esque scent which reminds me of an ample-blossomed lady spilling out of her tube top. I knew Pandanus flower from Indian chutneys which customarily accompany meat dishes, where its honeyed facets reveal themselves like liqueur; I also knew boronia from my trip to Australia, where the magical smell permeates the air when in season.
Then of course there is also beeswax in there, an exalted animalic note produced through a gentle technique involving bees' complex constructions without harming the animals.
In Kewdra pandanus makes its entrance all a-bust, proud, heavy, rich. But the effect dissipates soon, leaving a mingle of flower essences (Anya used a rural Chinese 5-petal gardenia which I can only assume is supremely costly) and natural sources of musk (such as angelica root and ambrette seed). These blend into a sweet, smooth vibe which licks the skin the way an Indian heroine in the Kama Sutra would.

Getting into the process of Kewdra requires a little patience but once you're there, the drydown cannot but appeal. Its sweet, intimate aspect evokes the scent of honey dribbled on skin. I am reminded of Baroness Moura Budberg, a Russian aristocrat who allegedly became a Soviet spy. Enigmatic to the end, she famously led an affair with the British spy R. H. Bruce Lockhart during the Revolution and later became the lover of both Maxim Gorky and H. G. Wells. Now Wells wasn't a pretty man, not attractive in any visual way. Moura’s own explanation for the unlikely liaison was that the attraction was sexual, even as she refused to marry him or remain faithful - "Wells’s skin", she said, "smelled of honey"...

Kewdra will be available at Anya's Garden e-boutique shortly and the 10ml bottle depicted will be given away by the Non Blonde soon!
Participating Sites on The Mystery of Musk Project:
Yahoo Natural Perfumery group
I Smell Therefore I Am – Abigail Levin
Perfume Shrine – Elena Vosnaki
The Non Blonde – Gaia Fishler
Indie Perfumes – Lucy Raubertas
Bitter Grace Notes – Maria Browning
CaFleureBon Michelyn Camen, Mark Behnke, Ida Meister, Skye Miller, Marlene Goldsmith
Olfactarama – Pat Borow
First Nerve – Avery Gilbert
Olfactory Rescue Service – Ross Urrere
Grain de Musc – Denyse Beaulieu
Basenotes



Painting Mother India by Maqbool Fida Hussain via razarumi.com

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Haydria Perfumery Tainted Love & Harem Girl: fragrance reviews

The Haydria Perfumery is one of those small artisanal brands you probably won't hear of unless you frequent perfume fora and read actual people's views; consequently the perfumers of those brands often twist their inspiration to fit both their own and their customers' base vision, a good thing. A good thing because this is a market segment with pretty sure footing into how perfume used to be before it was put into a compulsory Jenny Craig regime and often very much into what's affectionately termed "hippy stuff" from ma & pa shops (unfortunately more prominent in the USA than in Europe where I am residing). Haydria Perfumery seems to me to unite these two worlds: a vintage-focused pin-up inspired, retro perfumery with glittering, girly stuff reminiscent of the 1950s & 1960s, but also an independent, earthy, oils & musks approach (that's very 60s as well).

Fragrances of the Haydria Perfumery are composed by Hadria Douglas, based in West Hertford CT, USA, customarily presented in liquid perfume (in glass bottles with Swarovski embellishments), solid perfume & compacts and oil form. I tested the oils, which by their own nature present a smoother, softer ambience on skin and therefore sometimes present a lack of structure, but I know many people are mad for oils so it makes sense to offer this concentration. Both fragrances were nice and wearable, if not mind-blowing, just the right thing for that lady you know who appreciates all things soft and purring and sparkling with boudoir promises.

Tainted Love  is said to be "Reminiscent of innocent 50’s love…with a secret! A flirtatious and feminine bouquet of violets, berries and light amber drizzled with honey. The scent to take you back to simpler times".
I was quite taken with this retro, romantic pairing of violet and powder in this perfume oil, I have to admit. The violet is very there, but not your grandma's violet pastilles. There's a clean (white musk) and at the same time lightly salty aspect about the violet, making it subtly woody and not really sweet; just so. I can imagine this delicate and pretty scent on anyone who romanticizes the big balls of the 1950s and fancies themselves in a pink dress with a big corsage and their long hair in luscious curls on naked shoulders. Seamed stockings would be really good too.

Notes for Haydria Perfumery Tainted Love: violets, berries, honey and light amber.


Harem Girl is the most musky and traditionally "erotic" perfume in the Haydria line: "A forbidden, seductive and fiercely feminine fragrance with refined, powdery notes of iris, musk and opoponax veiled with incense. Truly for those with a taste for the exotic!"
Teasingly dabbing this scent on the wrist to entice sounds like what you'd expect from a seductive fragrance, but Harem Girl isn't neither heady nor too musky in that "get down & dirty" way we associate with, well, you know what... It might be because the oil formula opens up the soft aspects of the opoponax and the warm musk and turns it into a lightly sweet, lightly bitterish composite that would be pretty great in enhancing a lovers' play time. The musks used in Haydria's line are tempered, not especially "animalic" and therefore fit for actually wearing on a number of occasions, not just boudoir action, so you could get maximum mileage out of this one. Harem Girl hides a floral element in its oriental core to couple with a light incense veil, a tiny bit smoky, a tiny bit "dusty". Although iris is listed, I didn't especially smell that component; it's sort of powdery, but it's a resinous powdery from the opoponax (and some milky wood note replicating sandalwood?) that is dominant. It actually reminds me more of l'entre deux guerres and its love of Frenchified orientalia than of later pin-ups of the 1940s.

Notes for Haydria Perfumery Harem Girl: powdery iris, musk, opoponax, incense.

Haydria's Etsy Shop is on this link where you can buy the lot at very affordable prices.

The rest of the Haydria line includes:

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent samples directly from the perfumer.

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