On Fragrance Classification of Flowers: White Florals, Yellow, Green, Rosy, Spicy and Anisic

The scientist and the layman alike adore making neat little pigeonholes of things around them pertaining to their job or interests: pictorial styles in archeological remnants or chemical molecules present in material things are no more conductive to fitting into classification systems than styles of macramé or hardware for garage use. Classification is always a learning tool, for oneself, as much as for the benefit of communicating to others; a way to organize one's world; a grammar.

In the scented universe, people who are willing to learn about perfume often come across categories such as the often mentioned (and referenced) "fragrance families"; roughly -and traditionally, I might add- these include the florals, the chypres, the orientals, and the fougères. [If you're interested in getting to know some of them and a couple of their more intriguing sub-categories, please refer to our Beginner Articles on Chypre perfumes, Fougères, Floral Aldehydic fragrances (and on aldehydes themselves) and on Oriental Gourmand fragrances. ]
Floral fragrances in particular base both their consumer allure and their evocative powers on the flowers on which they draw their inspiration -if not always actual ingredients- from. Therefore the grammar of flowers is not only useful for the better understanding of the perfumes in which they star, but it serves as a powerful tool for the budding perfumer eager to explore their intricacies.

In this linguistic analogy above, inspired by classical semiotics, the perfume is the text, ripe for interpretation and parsing. The words, the components that make it up, form a grammar. And the structure of the perfume, its way of being composed, of putting the grammatical forms into phrases with meaning, is syntax.
Grammar of course, in language as in perfume, is a man-made construction: smells do not necessarily and spontaneously fall into groups, nor do they realize they do when they do! Grammar is a theoretician's way of organization much like the periodical table of elements is another. Therefore perfume theoreticians such as Edmond Roudnitska and Jean Claude Ellena, alongside Jean Carles and others, have tried to put order into chaos. And bypass order in their own work to render art.

One of the most popular references is the "white floral fragrances" group. The color coding is easy: white florals are comprised of scents of white petal flowers, such as gardenia, tuberose, orange blossom and jasmine (though the careful perfume lover soon finds out that not all white flowers produce "white floral fragrances" nevertheless!). The ability to bring the scent memory forth is also an acquired reflex that stretches with a predictable kick at the mere mention of the term. The commonality lies in a substance white florals share: indole, which happens to be a white crystalline material as well (see our Indoles and Indolic Fragrances article). Some are more indolic than others: tuberose has more of the mentholated scent of indole, while orange blossom has little. The Jasmine Fragrance Series and the Orange Blossom Fragrance Series can serve as inspiration on exploring this genre more.

Roudnitska classifies all fragrant materials into 15 series in his Art et Parfum, categories which include "balsamic" (see our corresponding reference article), "aromatic" (another fragrance term article), "tobacco" or "animal(ic)" (see our article on animalic scents for further explanation). Roudnitska opts to classify most major perfumery flowers into a group of their own: rose, violet, jasmine and orange flower take on their own individual slots. But within those categories there is some interesting overlapping: jonquil is close to orange flower, tuberose is included in the jasmine class. Some flowers are "green-smelling"; the freshness and impression of foliage of lily of the valley/muguet or narcissus and hyacinth explain the naming. Other flowers have a component that renders them spicy, such as carnation. Indeed classic carnation scents from the first half of the 20th century are routinely built on cloves, some combination of eugenol and rose. Gardenia however, despite the white floral moniker and although sharing facets with both jasmine and tuberose, is classified by Roudnitska in "fruit". It's no wonder that Ellena composes his gardenias with prunolide (a prune evoking aldehyde)!

Other classifications, such as the one employed by Jean Claude Ellena himself, are based on the common components that flower essences share in their molecular structure; equally persuasive and not necessarily contradictory to Carles's or Roudnitska's systems. The floral essences can be divided into roughly 5 sub-groups: rosy flowers (in which rose, peony, cyclamen, sweet pea, tulip and magnolia are included), white florals (jasmine, gardenia, tuberose, longoza, honeysuckle, orange blossom -and narcissus, please note), the yellow florals (including freesia, osmanthus, azalea and iris -and I'd add boronia and tagetes/marigold myself), the spicy florals (carnation certainly, but also lily, petunia, orchid and ylang ylang) and the anisic florals (with prime among them mimosa, cassie and lilacs). In this system there are no "green florals", so hyacinth is classified under rosy florals , as is lily of the valley. This is more a process of elimination. Additionally, things aren't always laid in stone: Magnolias are made with nerol, citronellol, geraniol (rosy compounds) myradyl acetate, linalool, methyl anthranilate...This brings them closer to roses, of course (and orange blossoms). Some ready-made compounds however, such as Magnolan, are closer to jasmine & lily of the valley, only more citrusy (grapefruit?), so it all depends (some perfumers use jasmolactones into making a magnolia).

As to Yellow Florals, you can find an analytical explanation with fragrance examples in my article on Yellow Florals on Fragrantica. Suffice to say here that it's the presence and degradation of carotenoids (which account for the vivid shades of the flowers and many fruits -even animals too, such as the flamingo or the shrimp) which results in exuding ionones. Ionones are fragrant molecules that are otherwise routinely used for the creation of violet and iris notes in perfumery. Beta-ionone is practically code name for yellow flowers. (But ionones are also used as a masking agent, so it's not uncommon to come across alpha-isomethyl ionone in a pleiad of scented products). Ionones happen to range between a pale to more standard yellow in the lab, so the taxonomy might have to do with the odor materials as well as the floral representatives in the botany sense. If you're searching for credible yellow floral fragrances search not further than Antonia's Flowers (freesia dominant & nicely non harsh), Osmanthus by the Different Company, Dior J'Adore, Osmanthus by Ormonde Jayne, and Royal Apothic Marigold Extract are recommended fragrant voyages to sail upon.

Green florals are easier to pinpoint than expected because no matter what the color of the flower, the feel of the aroma is evocative of spring foliage, young buds and snapped leaves. It's more of a mental association, which has been passed down to us through eons of referencing the coming of spring with the color green. The visual signifier has therefore come to potently symbolize a whole class of smells. It's easy to mentally overdo them too, as "green" universally stands for "go on", "free to go", "more", "faster", kill, pussycat, kill. Characteristic examples of the genre include the famous Diorissimo by Dior (composed by Roudnitska himself and idolizing the fresh bouquet of lily of the valley, what is colloquially called "May bells"), Chamade by Guerlain (with a very discernible hyacinth note), and Le Temps d'Une Fete by Patricia di Nicolai (composed on daffodils and narcissi).

Spicy florals seem self-explanatory but aren't necessarily. Anisic florals recall the scent of aniseed (famous for scenting pastis and ouzo aperitifs), which is...a spice! To make things easier on you "spicy florals" in perfume classification always refer to the presence of eugenol or isoeugenol, so flowers that recall cloves or mace are considered in this taxonomy, such as carnation and lily. Bellodgia by Caron evokes carnations potently (as do but in an orientalised context other famous Carons perfumes, namely Poivre and Coup de Fouet). So do Oeillet Sauvage by L'Artisan Parfumeur, although more naturalistically (composing the note on rose and ylang ylang with a helping of eugenol), and Dianthus by Etro among many others. Worthwhile lily fragrances to sample include Lys Mediterranée by F.Malle (sea spray salted lilies), Un Lys by Serge Lutens (more vanillic), Baiser Volé by Cartier (powdery), Guerlain Lys Soleia (tropical lilies), Donna Karan Gold (with an amber base note) and Vanille Galante by Hermes (ethereal and very refined).

Mimosa and cassie fragrances are decidedly anisic: classic perfume references include the stupendous Une Fleur de Cassie by F.Malle, and Mimosa pour Moi by L'Artisan Parfumeur, a life-redolent mimosa. Lilac fragrances are hard to do properly, because they have an anisic component, the floral sweetness and softness, as well as a spicy & fruity nuance. Most lilac fragrances on the market have a toilet freshener feel to it, but Highland of Rochester Lilac and Pur Desir de Lilas (Yves Rocher) succeed where others fail.

Gods lie in ambush though: The iconic L'Heure Bleue by Guerlain is a prime anisic (and vanillic) floral, but the anise is not due to mimosa as it is to anisealdehyde, as is the case with equally classic Apres L'Ondée which pairs the anise note with violets: a match made in heaven (or rather in Jacques Guerlain's fertile imagination). This is a case where the floral reference comes as an afterthought than as the source of inspiration; abstraction and imaginative powers have come a long way from trying to just transpose nature on a form that would allow safekeeping of that fleeting moment, if only for as long as the bottle lasts...

All pics via Pinterest

Frequent Questions: The Difference between the various Christian Dior "Poison" fragrances

Christian Dior has a stable of fragrances all tagged Poison, encased in similarly designed packaging and bottles (but in different colors), often creating confusion to the buyer who wants to know how the various fragrances compare. This article aims to explain the differences and similarities between Poison, Tendre Poison, Hypnotic Poison, Pure Poison and Midnight Poison and their Elixir versions henceforth. Short descriptions of how they smell, perfumers, fragrance notes, color schemes on bottle and box packaging as well as comments on concentration & body products available, longevity and sillage are included.

The Poison series:

To begin in chronological order, first came Poison, the original, in 1985. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that the original Poison was instrumental in the "loud" reputation that 1980s fragrances acquired. It is a powerhouse tuberose oriental with a berry-spicy-musky interlay, very characteristic of the time, quite excellently-made by Edouard Flechier and smelling great if used in moderation. Purple bottle in dark green box.
Notes for Poison original:
Top: orange blossom, honey, berries, pimento
Heart: cinnamon, coriander, tuberose, pepper, mace, plum, anise, ylang-ylang
Bottom: ambergris, labdanum, opoponax

Available in Eau de Toilette 30/50ml, Esprit de Parfum refillable flacon, deodorant spray, body lotion and shower gel. Some of the body products seem to be discontinued in certain markets.

Tendre Poison was the first "flanker" that came out 9 years later (1994), again composed by Edouard Flechier. It is a light green floral with freesia, a bit sharp and soapy in character. The base is pale woods, with a lightly powdery undertone that backons you closer. Although often referenced as a lighter version of the original Poison there is no comparison really. Tendre Poison is well-behaved, quite pretty and prim outwardly, a little unsmiling and cruel up close. Wears well and easily all year round and has good sillage and longevity. Light green bottle in green box.
Notes for Tendre Poison
Top: mandarin, galbanum
Heart: freesia, orange blossom, heliotrope
Bottom: sandalwood, vanilla

Available in Eau de Toilette 30/50ml, deodorant spray, body lotion and shower gel. Some of the body products seem to be discontinued in certan markets.

Hypnotic Poison came out in 1998, composed by Annick Menardo. The packaging reverted to something more daring, in crimson and a rubbery feel for the Eau de Parfum, so Hypnotic Poison is an almond gourmand oriental with a bitter edge at the start and a smooth vanilla base that contributes to a bewitching scent. Extremely popular (reports say it's a perennial bestseller in south Mediterranean countries, but also the US). Red bottle in dark red box.
Notes for Hypnotic Poison:
Top: bitter almond, caraway
Heart: jasmine sambac, jacaranda wood
Bottom: tree moss, vanilla, musk

Available in Eau de Toilette 30/50ml, deodorant spray, body lotion and shower gel.
There was an Eau de Parfum version previously available which seems to have been discontinued in favour of the Hypnotic Poison Elixir Eau de Parfum Intense.

Pure Poison coming out in 2004 was composed by Carlos Benaim, Olivier Polge and Dominique Ropion. Pure Poison is a radiant, expansive sharp floral with lots of white flowers (yet non indolic, meaning it's not in the least "dirty"), citrus essences and white musks/woods. The overall character is one of a clean, opalescent scent that is quite feminine in contemporary way. Pure Poison has an amazing sillage and is quite wearable year round. Pearl/opal white bottle in deep purple box.
Notes for Pure Poison:
Top: jasmine, sweet orange, Calabrian bergamot and Sicilian mandarin
Heart: orange blossom, gardenia
Bottom: sandalwood, ambergris

Available in Eau de Parfum 30/50ml, deodorant spray 100ml, body lotion and shower gel.

Midnight Poison is a modern "chypre" (in the vein of Narciso, Gucci by Gucci etc.) with subdued roses over a clean patchouli base, producing an abstract cool effect that is very modern. Composed by Olivier Cresp, Jacques Cavallier and Francois Demarchy, it is quite pleasant, if not very remarkable, with a dark green background that has a mysterious vibe aimed at the modern seductress.
Midnight-blue bottle in dark blue box.
Notes for Midnight Poison:
Top: mandarin orange, bergamot
Heart: rose
Bottom: patchouli, vanilla, amber

Available in Eau de Parfum 30/50ml, Extrait de Parfum, deodorant spray, body cream, body lotion and shower gel.

The Poison series Elixirs:

The various Dior Elixirs composed by Francois Demarchy came out with the aim to offer a more intense sensation blending the opulent base notes of the original Poison, along with individually selected flavours. The packaging is adorned with bulb atomisers on the bottle, boudoir-style. Each bottle replicates the colour scheme of the original fragrances they're named after. The formula is not silicone-based, but alcoholic, meaning it is sprayed like a regular Eau de Parfum.

Pure Poison Elixir was the first Elixir version for Poison and came out in 2006. Although the notes denote a quite different scent, the truth is there is no major difference with the previous Pure Poison, except for a sweeter, a tad powdery and warmer base that stays on the skin for an extremely long period of time.
Notes for Pure Poison Elixir:
Top: petitgrain, orange, green mandarin
Heart: orange blossom, jasmine sambac
Bottom: sandalwood, amber, almond, vanilla, cocoa absolute

Available in Eau de Parfum intense 30/50ml, body cream.

Hypnotic Poison Elixir came out in 2008. Based on the original Hypnotic Poison fragrance it includes a licorice-star anise combination. However it smells quite similar to the regular Hypnotic Poison, although the tenacity is even more phenomenal.

Available in Eau de Parfum intense 30/50ml, body cream.

Midnight Poison Elixir (2008) is based on the original Midnight Poison, enhanced with "intense, voluptuous, flavorful notes of caramel -fruity and toothsome, with an appetizing "toasted" fragrance - and the mellow, enveloping aromas of vanilla". It quite similar to the regular Midnight Poison apart from the sweeter caramel base which seems to kilter it off balance. Extremely tenacious as well.

Available in Eau de Parfum intense 30/50ml.

Special Valentine's Editions (2008) exist for Hypnotic Poison, Pure Poison and Midnight Poison in Eau de Toilette concentration in specially designed 40ml (1.38 fl.oz.) bottles.

Pics courtesy of Fragrantica.com

Tauer Perfumes Eau d'Epices: fragrance review

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

via pinterest

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fahrenheit 32 by Dior: fragrance review

Why was this new men's scent baptised with this weird name? Well, for starters, there was the classic fragrance Fahrenheit by Dior that erupted into the scene in 1988 with all the gusto of an iconoclast along with its female counterpart Dune.
And then, it is exactly 32 degress Fahrenheit that water freezes: equivalent of 0 degrees in the Celsius scale.

This scaling system is quite fascinating if one takes into account another classic of sorts, of a more profound level perhaps: that of the printed word. The dystopian science fiction by Ray Bradbury called "Fahrenheit 451", in which the author describes a future american society that wrapped up in sybaritic living and anti-intellectual tendencies abhors books and goes on to burn them.

The protagonist, Ray Montag, is the very witty antithesis of His Girl Friday of the famous classic era movie, especially since in true german spirit (physicist Daniel Gabriel Fahrenheit was German) "Mondag" means "Monday". And yes, this novel has also been filmed.
Fahrenheit 451 on the other hand is the point of auto-ignition of paper...Semantics, semantics.
For some dark, pessimistic reason I am quite convinced that the state of affairs in the world currently do not distance us too much from this nightmarish Orwellian vision. But perhaps I am digressing.

To revert to the "frozen" aspect of this quite cooler Fahrenheit, mes amis, as you might have surmissed by now, this new offering is what is affectionately called a "flanker": a perfume that follows up the successful anion bearing a variation of the name; yet usually either having nothing whatsoever in common with the genetic pool of the former or alternatively featuring a very slight variation of it, questioning the purpose of its existence apart from the boost that it would bring to the sales of both.
Fahrenheit 32 places itself in the first category. It bears little similarity to the classic fragrance and is intended as a tribute to the synthesized orange blossom that has been explored in men's scent recently also by the wonderful Fleur dy Mâle by Gaultier, reviewed just a little while ago. (click here for full review)
Designed by now former artistic director Heidi Slimane with the collaboration François Demachy it has been concocted by nose Louise Turner of Quest.

The general direction is one of a fresh oriental-woody that intermingles piquant aldehydic touches with orange blossom, light smooth vanilla, and what smells to my nose as delicate synthetic musks. The earthiness and slighty dirty appeal of vetiver does not come to the fore, despite its graceful way of making fragrances cool in every sense of the word.
The description goes like this: fresh top notes, orange blossom and vetiver for the hear nnotes, vanilla and solar notes for the base.
Indeed the freshness is akin to a cooling spray, which is implied by the white bottle that takes the classic one of original Fahrenheit to a new techno trip under strobo lights. It's opalescence and smooth milky texture reminded me a lot of the woman's Pure Poison, which I think is not coincidental, as that too is also based on the same synthesized orange blossom note and delivers itself with a freshness that pierces the nostrils for a while.

Compared to Fleur du Mâle it is not much further apart, yet in a way that one captured me more and retained my interest more avidly. Fahrenheit 32 is very likeable and on the scent strip lingers nicely making one to sniff and resniff to consolidate the memory, but a classical masculine fragrance it can never pose to be. It's again a little too feminine for its own good, which makes it fodder for either adventurous guys or the girlfriends who I am sure will fall under its charms.


Top pic In search of the unicorn by bigbird3/flickr
Pic of fahrenheit 451 by Wikipedia

The Different Company South Bay, Kashan Rose and White Zagora: new fragrances

The Different Company introduces three new additions to their esprit collection, South Bay, Kashan Rose and White Zagora, all composed by perfumer Emilie Coppermann and priced at 86 euros each for 90ml of eau de toilette.

Kashan Rose is a surprising fragrance, developing with notes of the Persian rose celebrated at the festival of the May rose in the city of Kashan. The fresh, fruity and spicy blend of sage, litchi, pink pepper and cardamom, segues to Persian rose. Rose petals are surrounded with hawthorn and peony, on a base of ambrette, sandalwood and musk.

Notes for Kashan Rose
litchi, sage, cardamon, pink pepper Persian rose, hawthorn, peony sandalwood, ambrette seed, musk 

South Bay is a luminous woody composition with fresh citrusy accents. The composition opens with a luminous blend of grapefruit, mandarin leaves and tamarind. Woody accords of grapefruit tree with freesia flowers and eglantine (Rosa rubiginosa) become stronger in the central layer of the composition, enhanced with creamy sandalwood, vetiver and suede creating the base of the perfume.

Notes for South Bay
grapefruitt mandarin leaf, tamarind grapefruit wood, freesia, eglantine sandalwood, suede, vetiver

White Zagora is a sensual oriental fragrance based on orange blossom accords. The top emphasizes neroli, citrus notes of which bergamot is the most discernible, with orange blossom in the heart, sweetened with honey, tuberose and sweet peach blossom. The base is warm, sensual and soft, via osmanthus, white musk and amber.

Notes for White Zagora
neroli, citruses, bergamot orange blossom, peach blossom, tuberose osmanthus, amber, musk

More on the official site.

Jasmine Series: part 2 ~the role of jasmine in perfumery

As we examined previously, jasmine is an integral part of most fine perfumes’ bouquet and the varieties used render their own specific variables to the end result. 
But why is jasmine so prized over other natural or synthetic essences? And why is it a staple of perfumery as contrasted with what the great perfumer Jean Carles termed “accessory notes”? Finally: can it be replicated?

To quote master Edmond Roudnitska in his essay The Art of Perfumery: “It is the natural product par excellence”.
There isn’t a composition that does not benefit from its inclusion as it marries well with all the other essences: it blends with everything and lends a heart-achingly beautiful tinge to everything it touches. 


Jasmine as a note and component in fragrance composition
Jasmine is a middle note in perfume composition, meaning it evolves in the heart stages of development on the skin which makes it tenacious enough to anchor top notes and swift them to its own trail, yet fresh enough to not outstay its welcome leaving behind its fragrant remnants subtly. Middle notes impart warmth and fullness to blends and they embody passion. It is no coincidence that they are called “heart notes”. They bridge the distance between deep, somber base notes and sharper, fleeting top notes.
To make this more scientifically correct we revert to Septimus Piesse’s system of olfactory octaves, on which W.A. Poucher elaborated in 1923, giving each note a specific “pitch” on the olfactory scale from 1 to 100. In this system 1-15 are top notes, while 16-69 are middle notes and 70 to 100 are bottom notes. Of course several ingredients share perhaps the same number in the scale. It so happens that jasmine absolute is marked as 43 in this system, along with tuberose and rose.
In evaluating the various unusual combinations between notes, jasmine has a particularly successful effect to the following notes: roman chamomile, coriander, geranium (which has a rosy dry out to it), spearmint, and of course rose and bergamot with latter which it forms the most classic accord of most grand feminine perfumes of history.

Jasmine absolute is rendered through this process nowadays:

“Flowers are placed on racks in a hermetically sealed container. A liquid solvent, usually hexane, is circulated over the flowers to dissolve the essential oils. This produces a solid waxy paste called a “concrete”. The concrete is then repeatedly treated with pure alcohol (ethanol) which dissolves the wax and yields the highly aromatic liquid known as an absolute. This method is also used for extracting resins and balsams and for rendering the animal essences, such as civet, musk ambergris and castoreum”

(source: Mandy Aftel, Essence and Alchemy)

Absolutes are more lasting and concentrated than simple essential oils and have a highly intense and fine odour profile. Therefore they are the most expensive perfumery ingredients.
In jasmine the concrete is also very useful, a solid reddish-orange wax, mellow in tone that can be used for adding smoothness and florancy to many blends.

As an aside, for those bent on acquiring some of the best jasmine absolutes and concretes, the following address is recommended:

Coimbatore Flavors and Fragrances
5/82 Palanigoundenpudur
K.Vadamadurai Post
Coimatore 641017
India

You can also contact aqua-oleum which is an aromatherapy site for essential oils, available in small quantities, run by a renowned aromatherapist.

Headiness, Indoles, Living Matter and other stuff on Jasmine
Jasmine’s inclusion in the white floral category of fragrances especially is almost self-evident. Tuberose, ylang-ylang, gardenia (synthetic, because the flower does not yield a satisfactory oil for perfumery) and orange blossom marry with jasmine to produce intensely narcotic and exotic perfumes that capitalize on the sultry image of those blossoms and make our head spin.
The magic of this headiness is indol/indole, referenced also in our Orange Blossom Series, a matter that is also found in human feces and which according to Paul Jellineck “reminiscent of decay and feces, lends orange blossom, jasmine, tuberose, lilac and other blossoms that putrid-sweet, sultry intoxicating nuance that has led to the sum of these flowers and of their extracts as delicate aphrodisiacs, today as in the past”. This is the reason why many people find jasmine animalic and difficult to stomach in large quantities in their perfumes, as they perceive a dirty note to it that repels them. In isolation, indole smells moth-ball-ish, camphor-like rather than poopy. 
A notable example is the majestic A la nuit by Serge Lutens for Palais Royal de Shiseido, in which all the aspects of natural jasmine from bud to rot are displayed like the faceted profile of a precious gem. A jasmine for die-hard jasminophiles. The use of many different kinds of jasmine from Egypt, Morocco, and India are all contributing to giving it richness beyond that of a simple soliflore, intensified by clove, honey and benzoin.
It is interesting to note that indole cannot be synthesized successfully, as the synergistic effect of different constituents is lost. In similar attempts at the lab an unpleasant dominant fecal tone surfaces which makes it very hard to manipulate in an artistic composition. In nature there are minute amounts of materials that despite their exceedingly low percentage in the total of an essence they play a decisive role in the character of the entire complex.

In this regard we may also turn our attention to the most intriguing fact that natural essences, among them jasmine absolute, do photograph in Kirlian Photography, denoting possession of life essence or life force. Semyon Kirlian was a Russian electrical technician who in 1939 discovered a technique of taking pictures by means of electricity. His technique has been widely known as the photography of auras: the life energy that surrounds all living matter. The method uses a photographic paper or film atop a metal plate whereupon the object is placed. A high voltage current is then applied which records the energy field appearing as a bright halo around the object. Living flowers have brighter auras while as they deteriorate and rot the halo diminishes. It is intriguing to note that essential oils do photograph using the Kirlian method with different results according to the description of the olfactory profile of each: sharp, bright, heavy or soft and so on. So the claim of Roudnitska that jasmine is a natural per excellence which we quoted at the beginning of this article makes great sense. And it also bodes with Robert Tisserand’s dictum that natural essences “have a life force, an additional impulse which can only be found in living things”.
Jean Garnero, a Grasse chemist has this to add:

“Despite all the crises, all the economic challenges, all the competition from synthetic products, the perfume of jasmine flower remains one of the essential elements and sometimes the main pillar in the structure of the greatest perfumes”.

French & specifically Grasse Jasmine: Which Perfumes Contain it?
You will often hear brandished the term "French jasmine" as a denoting of superior quality. Grasse after all has been made famous thanks to its natural products, jasmine out of which is most notorious. The cultivation of the jasminum grandiflorum variety came from the Arab trade route. The Grasse jasmine is sweeter than most and more refined than the bulk of commercial jasmine essence that comes from Egypt (more than 3/4 of the total production comes from this area), India, Morocco and India (where jasminum sambac is the traditional product).
Due to extreme costs to obtain this precious extract only a few companies have been able to use Grasse jasmine in their perfumes. This traditionally included Chanel (who use Grasse jasmine in their extrait de parfum of No.5 and the rest of their jasmine-listing extrait de parfum fragrances) and who have bought their own fields of jasmine and tuberose in the region of Grasse, Jean Patou (who includes Grasse jasmine in Joy and 1000) and till a decade ago approximately this was also the case for Guerlain as well (who used Grasse jasmine in their classics, such as Mitsouko, L'Heure Bleue, Apres l'Ondee, and Shalimar extraits de parfum), but not anymore.

Replicating jasmine in perfumes

Ylang ylang, whose name means Flower of flowers, is generally termed “poor man’s jasmine” because its odour profile is not distanced from that of jasmine and indeed it has been used in many perfumes to back up the tonalities of jasmine, as it is so much less expensive yet still very beautiful: suave, sweet, persistent, creamy.
It makes a very pronounced appearance in such perfumes as the rich ambery orientals Obsession and Moschino original, Samsara ~ backing up the big beat of the jasmine-sandalwood accord, Tabu, Loulou, Organza, surprisingly Aromatics Elixir beneath all the mossy earthy elements, Kenzo Jungle, Escada by Margaretha Ley, Amarige, Giorgio, Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant, 24 Faubourg (in conjunction with jasmine sambac), and of course Chanel no.5 and Bois des Iles.
Ylang Ylang also has several grades of quality, first, second and third renderings of the oil, much like the production of jasmine tea that we described on our previous article.

Hedione or dihydrojasmonate, as previously mentioned, is an aromachemical that is often used in composition in substitution for jasmine absolute, but also for the sake of its own fresh and green tonality.
It lacks the clotted cream density of natural jasmine, recalling much more the living vine and for that reason it is considered a beautiful material that offers quite a bit in the production of fine perfumes. Perfumer Lyn Harris, of the brand Miller Harris and also the independent nose behind many well-known creations not credited to her name calls it “transparent jasmine” and attributes to it the capacity to give fizz to citrus notes much “like champagne”. (see? it’s not only aldehydes which do that!)

First used in the classic men’s cologne Eau Sauvage, composed by Edmond Roudnitska in 1966, it had been isolated from jasmine absolute and went on to revolutionize men’s scents with the inclusion of a green floral note. It was so successful that many women went on to adopt it as their own personal fragrance leading the house of Dior to the subsequent introduction of Diorella in 1972, composed by the same legendary nose, blending the green floral with hints of peach, honeysuckle, rose and cyclamen in addition to the herbal citrusy notes of the masculine counterpart, all anchored by a base of cool vetiver, patchouli and oakmoss, lending a mysterious, aloof and twilit air to women who went for it.
Ten years after its introduction to perfumery, in 1976, it was the turn of Jean Claude Ellena to coax hedione in a composition that exploited its fresh and lively character to great aplomb in the production of First by jewelry house Van Cleef & Arpels (the name derived from the fact that it was their first fragrant offering, but also the first scent to come out of a jeweler too ~subsequently many followed in its tracks with notable success). In it, Ellena used 10 times the concentration of hedione used in Eau Sauvage, married to natural jasmine as well as rose de mai (rosa centifollia, which is also a crystalline variety), narcissus, orris, ylang ylang and a hint of carnation with the flying trapeze of aldehydes on top and the plush of vetiver, amber and vanilla at the bottom which accounted for a luminous and luxurious floral.

Hedione also makes a memorable appearance in many other perfumes, such as the classic Chamade by Guerlain (introduced in 1969), Chanel no.19 (1970) and Must by Cartier (1981) and in many of the modern airy fragrances such as CKone, Blush by Marc Jacobs, the shared scent Paco by Paco Rabanne or the bombastic Angel by Thierry Mugler, in which it is used as a fresh top note along with helional.


Next part will focus on other aspects of the jasmine quest.

Artwork by Godward "The new perfume" courtesy of allposters.com
Perfume ad for Eau Sauvage from 2001 courtesy of psine.net

Guerlain Habit Rouge: fragrance review

Sensual, warm, elegant, Habit Rouge was conceived by master perfumer Jean Paul Guerlain in 1965 when faced with a surprising and novel problem. Men who loved Shalimar perfume on their wives and lovers wanted a comparable powdery composition translated into a virile structure they would claim as their own. Thus Habit Rouge was born, the name alluding to the red jacket landed gentry loved to don on hunting days in the countryside and henceforth adopted for riding competitions.

Guerlain of course wasn't the first to associate horses with perfumes: Hermes was there before (beginning as saddlers), but it set an example for others later on, namely Ralph Lauren. The important thing is Habit Rouge quickly became a Guerlain classic, the exact antithesis of Guerlain's Vetiver in spirit and stance; a  concept best encapsulated in a vintage ad proclaiming: "The Body, The Soul, a Guerlain cologne is for both" where the scents are described thus: "the agressive boldness of Habit Rouge, the understated elegance of Imperiale, or the subtle, penetrating depths of Vetiver".

The Scent and Structure of Habit Rouge
The magic synergy in Habit Rouge, a combination of resins and tree gums such as benzoin and opoponax, creates the photographic effect of a hazy glow all around the subject in an old black & white photograph. These resinous scents have the ability to deepen the voice, the equivalent of a lion's growl reverbrating over many kilometres to effortlessly mark its territory. Those elements form the basic oriental core of this formal, somewhat flamboyant but ultimately humanly sensual fragrance, lifted by traditional citrus notes in the opening (lemon, bergamot and mandarin alongside orange blossom) to mirror the idea in Shalimar, deepened with the spicy notes of cinnamon and carnation and burnished by the pungency of a little leather, which takes on suede smoothness rather than harsher or fetishistic nuances of hard-core leather fragrances. The whole smells like sweet orange talc, powdery and somewhat sweet. 
Habit Rouge is mature and dense, yes, but such a wonderful aristocratic classic that its acquaintance simply should be made by younger generations.

On a woman, it can be deeply alluring!

Packaging
Habit Rouge follows the Vetiver presentation until 2000. (This was the year the latter changed its looks dramatically) Habit Rouge took the simple travel container and red-capped sixties style atomizers. In 1988 it changed into the briefcase-inspired Eau de Toilette flacon design by Robert Granai. It has stayed there ever since, its red label modernised by a slight simplification.

2002 ad for Habit Rouge

Reformulations and Comparison of Concentrations & Batches
Habit Rouge was recognisably reformulated in 2003, as evidenced by the change in packaging, coinciding with the launch of the Eau de Parfum concentration. It's still a great fragrance however in all its forms and worth chewing one's teeth on, man or woman.
Comparing Eau de Parfum (one of the rare masculine fragrances to come in such a concentration) to the most well-known form of Habit Rouge, the long-standing Eau de Toilette, the two almost overlap in the initial 20 minutes, with the citrus & orange blossom notes  lingering somewhat more in the EDP. But after that phase the two diverge, with the EDP losing the orange blossom (which can give a soapy, clean feel), becoming spicier and muskier as it dries down with the addition of a modern "oud" note and a chocolate tinge, while the EDT retains the lighter "flou" character all the way through, making the EDT the perfect signature scent choice for any time, with the EDP being a bit heavier and therefore more reserved for formal evenings. It's also the most "modern" of all concentrations, somewhat skewing the retro feel of the Habit Rouge fragrance, so purists might want to consider that. The Eau de Toilette boast a big lemon-neroli accord o in the beginning and a soft, smooth suede note in the background, while on the whole it's the most powdery/dusty incarnation of the fragrance.
If you can find it, buy the limited edition Habit Rouge Parfum which tones down the powder and "cleaner" qualities in favour of a muskier, more leathery and camphor-nuanced scent like the vintage Shalimar meets Vol de Nuit.
Of special note is the traditional and vintage Eau de Cologne concentration, the original thing, which is the least "dusty" for those concerned with the powdery aspect of the scent, becoming crisper and more flesh-like vanilla oriental. The sensual aura of the Habit Rouge Eau de Cologne is surprisingly lasting, easily 6 hours on skin and therefore this is a concentration to acquaint yourself with if you're serious about perfume.

Habit Rouge also circulates in various limited editions (Beau Cavalier etc), on which we have posted news on these pages. According to Mr.Guerlain the batches come from: 1965, Dry '67, EdT '88, EdP 2003, Légère '05, Parfum '08, Sport '09, and L'Eau '11.

You can watch the official Habit Rouge L'Eau clip here.

Notes for Guerlain Habit Rouge:
Top: Lemon, Sweet Lime, Bitter Orange, Mandarin, Bergamot, Rosewood
Middle: Cinnamom, Patchouli, Pimento, Basil, Cedar, Carnation, Lavender
Base Note: Vanilla, Amber, Leather, Benzoin, Labdanum, Olibanum, Sandalwood, Leather accord.

pic Degas, Cavalier en Habit Rouge

Tauer Perfumes Zeta: fragrance review & draw

Andy Tauer, enfant gaté of the niche universe, and deservingly so, excells in three things in his fragrant sonatas: hesperidia, rose and resinous, hazy vapors smelling of earth and dust. Getting two out of three in his upcoming fragrance Zeta isn't half bad. After all, how could a letter named after the Greek alphabet be bad in my world? In fact Zeta hints at the beloved honeyed Tauerade (the base that permeates most of Andy's perfumes) and will therefore appeal even to those who are not on a first-name basis with either hesperidia or roses. But even non-fans should give at least a cursory sniff to Zeta because it's truly very appealing, an ode to summer, an elegy of sensuous pleasures.

Tauer wrote a haiku to preface the fragrance:
"Linden shade in June
Sweet rose petals and the light
of Syracusa"

Because of this Italian reference and of the Greek letter in the name, I like to evoke Grecani music in my mind: that is songs of the Griko minority (Italians of Greek extraction, going back to the 8th century BC when the island of Sicily and Southern Italy were colonised), a mix of the two Mediterranean languages, κατωϊταλιώτικα, rolling on the tongue with their richness of vowels. So does the perfume, bathed in the warm light reflected on ochre and sienna stucco walls...

Zeta may come as a surprise to those reading that it's built on citrus notes (bergamot, lemon and mandarin), as it is above all s-o-f-t. Not a sharp, pinching, screechy note in sight, no sourness either, a concern sometimes with fragrance including roses. After all, Andy explored the more high-pitched notes in Un Carillon pour in Ange, where he mollified lily of the valley into submission, exhaling its best with a touch of melancholy. Zeta on the contrary is a muted, soft, melding fragrance, tender like cats paws and happy like producing a smile on a newborn's face.

The linden blossom extract is a CO2 product, ensuring a high quality essence. The fragrance is almost flavoured by the linden, reminiscing me of edible linden or rose honey I used to buy when galivanting on the slopes of Zakinthos island in the Ionian Sea, rather than merely the delightful blossoms on the tree. The balance between sweet and citric is beautifully played: Zeta keeps it steady and nice without veering into sugary. It also doesn't produce any pee notes in my skin, as some honeyed fragrances are accused to, sometimes.

The plushness of the rose essence here exhibits both aspects of the natural flower: the citrusy fruitiness nuance of a mandarin compote, but also a greener nuance, closer to neroli or geranium. Rose by its nature comprises hundreds of molecules in its essence, presenting such diverging facets as leomngrass, artichoke or lychee. Flanked by orange blossom absolute, the lushness is self-evident: The honeyed note of the latter invests the former in a bath of light; like opening the French windows on a bright summer afternoon and letting the sunshine come make love to you like a Mediterranean lover.
The fragrance also includes notes of ylang-ylang (subtle, not all-out-tropical) and the all inviting base of orris, sandalwood and vanilla: Almost a blatant come hither! But still, the mood is happy and tender, never poseur. If you have sampled his Une Rose Chyprée or Cologne du Maghreb, you know what I'm talking about. The embrace is billowy-silky, lightly musky, somewhat dusty and sweetly milky, full of expensive raw materials: Zeta not only feels natural, it feels luxurious and it surely must be in formula to compound terms. This is something that cannot always be said for fragrances in current production and for that reason you should definitely sample it while current batches last; next year might bring changes to the raw materials that might slightly shift it.
Colour me impressed.

I have 3 deluxe sample sprayers to send to lucky winners. State in the comments what impresses you about Tauer's perfumes or what does not and what you'd like to see in his next fragrance.

Notes for Tauer Perfumes Zeta: lemon, bergamot, sweet orange, ylang, orange blossom absolute, neroli, linden blossom, rose, orris, sandalwood and vanilla.



Zeta will be available in mid-April 2011. Zeta forms part of the "Collectibles": low volume perfumery, limited by the availability of raw materials that may change from year to year, but not limited edition.
This concept allows Andy to create and present perfumes that he otherwise could not. The Collectibles will be housed in the classic pentagonal 50ml bottle but in green glass with a silver label. More info soon on Tauer Perfumes.

Picture of Sicilian paysage via Ezu/flickr (some rights reserved)
Disclosure: I was sent the sample vials by the manufacturer.

Frederic Malle Lys Mediterranee: fragrance review

On Good Friday
weary I shuffle my steps,
at the weary light of day.
Lilies of spring I bring you
and lay upon your cross ~
tear-soaked friend,
First among the first.
~Nikos Gatsos, Days of Epitaph*

A different lily, a wearable lily
The astrigent and almost aqueous, saline opening of Lys Méditerranée in the Frédéric Malle Editions des Parfums line is highly surprising for those who have been accustomed to florist type lilies; crystalline and stark in their cellophane, premature mummies in dolled up sarcophagi, looking at you sterny and haughty, like stuffed owls out of Psycho. But wild lilies in the basin of the Mediterranean sea are routinely sprayed by the salty spray of the deep blue sea, gaining an overlay of odour that is reminiscent of cured meats, and of the contrast of sandpaper-like fresh roughness against the nose beside the intense, waxy petals spiciness.

Issued in 2000 and composed by legendary perfumer Edouard Fléchier, in my opinion Lys Méditerranée is definitely among the masterpieces in the line, as evidenced by my impressive finishing of a whole bottle of it during last spring and summer. It is an impressionistic composition capturing a moment in time and place perfectly: Easter lilies in all their rustic splendor, an affair of freshness and lushness entwined, a shady terrace on some villa on Patmos island or the boardwalk in Nice. Checking the fragrance notes, we know they got the paysage references right: lilies, salty water, angelica, lily of the valley and water lily, orange blossom even: Pure Med! White lilies were cultivated in ancient Crete and Greece, as evidenced by the frescoes in Knossos. The lily was revered by the Greeks as sprouting from the milk of Hera, queen of the gods.

Scent Profile
The ginger spiciness in Lys Méditerranée perks the nose, imbuing the lily bouquet with a convincing life-like chord, ginger lilies staying on throughout the arc of the linear composition; those who have an aversion to spice might find it too much, too floral but I'm not among them. There is a huge orange blossom note hidden in there and strong salicylates (naturally inherent in lily) which manage to imbue freshness rather than excessive floralcy.
The base exhibits a balance of muskiness, a very thin line between not quite clean and borderline carnal, without excessive sweetness or cheap tricks. In fact the delicately, musky-vanillic vegetal theme recalls to mind the feeling of Vanille Galante in the Hermessences collection, also heavy on the salicylates. The style is comparable, even though Lys projects as a higher octave overall and seems to include jasmolactones giving an almost gardenia-like greeness. Comparing it with another pure lily scent, Serge Lutens's angelic and sublimely creamy Un Lys, I find that Lys Méditerranée is more intense, shimmering with a less cherubic cheek; less vanillic, muskier, saltier, a tad rougher if you will. And despite the freshness it lasts and lasts.

What is it that makes this great fragrance largely unsung then? Pure programmatic association. Perfume lovers have developed a keen displeasure against "marine" notes, vexed by the catapulting chords used on mainstream perfumery which hammered us with artificial "freshness" for years on end ~before giving way to tooth-decaying sweetness, that is! Time to ditch it for once, this is seriously great work.

Notes for F.Malle Lys Méditerranée:
Top notes: sea water, lily of the valley and ginger
Middle notes: angelica, lily, orange blossom and lotus
Base notes: vanilla and musk

Available as eau de parfum by F.Malle on their official site and at Barneys.

*translation by Elena Vosnaki

Fashion photo shoot on Patmos island, Greece, by photographer Camilla Akrans for T Style magazine of the New York Times, Travel supplement summer 2009.

Elie Saab Le Parfum: fragrance review

It's hard to pronounce judgement on something that intrisically draws you in, yet you find that it repeats motifs known from a previous incarnation losing points for originality in the process.  
Elie Saab Le Parfum, though no match for the glorious haute-couture gowns that are the stuff of dreams, is nevertheless a very alluring, beautiful floral with honeyed notes, standing proudly in the mainstream market, intending not to leave anyone displeased. The fact that acclaimed perfumer Francis Kurkdjian pulls another well-known trick from his elegant sleeve is of secondary importance for our purposes, questioning structure and innovation vs appeal and end result as we are; consumers go for the latter, critics for the former.

Francis Kurkdjian places a small facet of his beloved zafting, retro roses (Rose Barbare, Lady Vengeance, Enlevement au Serail, Ferre Rose) in a composition that is all about the white flowers: jasmine and in a more abstract, fleeting way orange blossom (similar to that reserved for Fleur du Mâle, Narciso for Her ). Smelling Elie Saab Le Parfum in the middle of winter is like a ray of longed for sunshine, summer evening romance and late afternoon trysts spent on white linen sheets on the hush in rooms bursting with flower bouquets.
It's elegant, lush, quite sweet after the initial orange blossom/neroli "cologne" top note dissipates (and sweeter on skin than on clothes or blotter) with a posh impression that radiates for miles with the discernible headiness of jasmine; a not really indolic jasmine, nor particularly candied, but lush, creamy and sensual all the same. Elie Saab is a fragrance to be noticed and to be noticed in, smelling expensive, especially for a mainstream release, which also lasts quite well. The woodiness is mingled as an austere, cleaned up layer that lingers on skin similarly to woody floral musks fragrances (Narciso and its ilk; the clean patchouli, non powdery rose & honeyed warmth accord is repeated down pat).
Kurkdjian takes segments out of his collective opus and re-arranges it like a talented maestro playing a biz potpouri of his greatest hits. Can't blame him; it works.

The first fragrance from the Lebanese haute couture designer is simply called Le Parfum and the composition allegedly took 279 trial versions, resulting in a very femme fragrance, very floral, lightly woody. Those who like Marc Jacobs Blush in theory for the modern take on white flowers, but always wanted more oomph out of it, might find here their ideal rendition. Those who love the lushness yet contemporary feel of Kurkdjian's own label Absolue pour le Soir but wince at the price tag, could find in Elie Saab a more budget-friendly choice. Last but not least, those who lamented the demise of perhaps the single worthwhile Armani perfume, Sensi, are advised to seek out Le Parfum as something in the same ballpark; immediately appealing, non fussy, instant prettifier.

Men are almost certain to find this too feminine for their tastes, though the adventurous can always try.

Notes for Elie Saab Le Parfum: orange blossom, jasmine (including Grandiflorum and Sambac), cedar, patchouli and rose honey accord.

The simple glass bottle, heavy and pleasingly solid, was designed by Syvie de France. The campaign features the famous model Anja Rubik. Le Parfum is available in 30ml/1oz, 50ml/1.7oz and 90ml/3oz of  Eau de Parfum concentration with ancilary products to match (perfumed deodorant, body lotion, body cream and shower gel). Available at major department stores.

Painting Spring by Greek painter Georgios Jacobidis.

The Invention of Albertine: Confession of an Epicurean

―by guest writer AlbertCAN

“Indeed, my roving mind was busy with a thousand projects: a novel, travel, a play, marketing a fruit cocktail of my own invention. (Don’t ask for the recipe; I have forgotten it.)”
 ~Jean-Dominique Bauby, «Le Scaphandre et le Papillon» (1997)

Lucid intoxication is the best tease: a demure wink, the deft nudge. L'Art de la séduction interdite. With verve and panache, an exquisite intrigue is truly a meeting of the minds, for the transcendent provocation can only be mischievous when done right; any more or less the pas de deux of sensuality goes awry.

Regina Lambert: Oh, did they do that kind of thing way back in your day?
Peter Joshua: Sure. How do you think I got here?*

Source: Uploaded by user via Cheryl on Pinterest

Thus the psyche was in full epicurean swing when putting together my new signature champagne cocktail one recent morning, which took all but one nifty trial. Elena initially half-jokingly referred to it as Albertini—lovely idea, but the recipe’s lack of gin and vermouth called for a slightly different signature, so Albertine it was christened.

I have the recipe below, and true to my style it’s deceptively simple: always get the best quality ingredients one could afford when effortless chic is called for.

photo copyrighted by AlbertCAN

Albertine

One 750 mL bottle Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin brut champagne, well chilled
One carton (1 L) of unsweetened pineapple juice, well chilled
One bottle of orange blossom water
Twelve classic 6 oz. champagne flutes
Serves twelve: In each flûte à champagne add ¼ teaspoon of orange blossom water and ¼ cup of pineapple juice. The flute should be half full at this point. Top off with brut champagne. Serve immediately.

Vierge Albertine: Non-alcoholic variation. Substitute the champagne with equal part unflavoured sparkling water. (I prefer Perrier or San Pellegrino.)

Of course, the recipe in practice has plenty of savoir-faire in spades: get a 350 mL bottle of brut bubbly to halve the serving for an intimate six, or multiply thereafter according to one’s entertainment needs. Even compatible with all champagne glasses so long the master ratio below is followed:

¼ teaspoon orange blossom water for every ¼ cup unsweetened pineapple; half juice, half champagne in each glass.

I selected Veuve Clicquot because the aromatic bouquet is exceedingly smooth and intricate—not to mention beautifully priced in my end of Canada —yet frankly any dry sparkling wine of quality shall suffice. The operative words here being, of course, quality and sensibility: a delicate Prosecco could easily step in, but anything too cheaply priced is probably just, well, too cheap in taste. As for the exclusive editions of Perrier-Jouët, Louis Roederer Cristal and Dom Pérignon are definitely not expected—but who am I to say no to Dom Pérignon at a perfect moment?

Now a word of caution: Albertine, not unlike the eponymous heroine in Proust’s «À la recherche du temps perdu», goes down smooth and lingers on. An undisciplined can easily glean over six servings at once! So please experiment responsibly.

The champagne cocktail is dedicated to Jean-Dominique Bauby, whose memoir “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” honed my aesthetics many moons ago.

"My diving bell becomes less oppressive, and my mind takes flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas's court. You can visit the woman you love, slide down beside her and stroke her still-sleeping face. You can build castles in Spain, steal the Golden Fleece, discover Atlantis, realise your childhood dreams and adult ambitions." -Jean Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

* Quotes from “Charade” (1963)

Guerlain Cologne du Parfumeur: fragrance review & draw

If we lamented the course of Chanel the other day, today is Guerlain's par for the course. Although I am a fervent fan of the house and have worn almost everything ever produced with pleasure and reflective appreciation over the years, I can't warm too much towards the latest Cologne du Parfumeur, especially after the very good and very "Guerlain-feeling" Tonka Impériale which had produced a coup de foudre.
Cologne du Parfumeur comes as the latest installment in the Eaux de Cologne line of classic eaux by Guerlain and the delineating of a continuing tradition is at the heart of the launch's philosophy with a refurbishing of the bee bottles to bear the names of the perfumers who composed each of them: Following in the footsteps of L’Eau de Cologne du Coq (1894), L’Eau de Cologne Impériale (1853) and L’Eau de Fleurs de Cedrat (1920), in 2010, Thierry Wasser presents ‘Cologne du Parfumeur’, issued in May 2010, a creation that Thierry admits having originally thought of for himself.

The key note is Calabrian orange blossom intertwined with other citrus fruit. Yet this fairly classic accord also has a ‘modern twist’ thanks to green, musky and sweet facets. The designer acknowledges that it can be worn alone or layered with your usual scent (and I can totally see the latter). The practice of hereby chronicling the heritage of the house by naming each successive perfumer on the eaux bottles themselves also indicates that the more cynical amidst the perfumeland ~who have been bemoaning the LVMH takeover as the cultural ruin of Guerlain for long~ are being heard. Possibly (but not conclusively) this is also a move to assuage the negativity of the Guerlain detractors being vocal on the Net.

The fragrance however removes itself from any traditional Eau de Cologne mould, injecting an opaline green rather than distinctly herbal/aromatic touch (a hint of rosemary instead of the fuller pungent lavender and bouquet de Provence) atop a very "clean" (not tart!) orange blossom (see Yves Rocher or Prada Infusion des Fleurs d'Oranger) and a pale woody musk at the base which produced a "white" effect. But whereas the dry feel of "vegetal" musks worked superbly (and daringly) in Hermes's Eau de Gentiane Blanche, evoking white washed rocks under a hot sky and staying bitterish and insolent, Guerlain's Cologne du Parfumeur feels pale and wane in comparison, too tame & behaved for a vegetal musk, whereas too subdued and sanitized for a Mediterranean cologne; and believe me, I grew up with the latter. Like the perfumer's country of origin, this is Switzerland among perfumes: Always neutral, never engaging in exalted passions, and sometimes reminding me of the very unfair ~yet perfectly witty~ criticism of Orson Welles: "In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love; they had five hundred years of democracy and peace and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.”

But of course Thierry isn't to blame solely. Decisions are very rarely only taken in the lab! The cologne is perfectly unisex, undoubtedly pleasant, reminiscent of several familiar themes, but it doesn't really cut through the "white" gauzy net of eaux that flood the market currently, which is its major disadvantage.
Cologne du Parfumeur has average tenacity (not at all bad for a cologne) and subtle sillage, but ultimately it reinforces the idea of Guerlain's "Diorisation" after the take-over by LVMH, a plight which is not ultimately desirable by neither core fans of the brand, nor new audiences who can find catchier names and catchier marketing featured in glossies from other brands.
It is available from May 2010 on those Guerlain counters which carry the Eaux line in a redesigned bee bottle bearing a label with the perfumer's name on it.
Please note the moniker "Les Exclusifs" under the Guerlain name and funnily enough...the French definitive article before the name Cologne (i.e. La Cologne).

Notes for Guerlain Cologne du Parfumeur:
Citrus, Amalfi lemon, African orange blossom, rosemary, mint, lavender, musk.

I was honoured to be sent a generous preview decant from a very dear friend and in appreciation of their kind offer I am extending one sample to a lucky reader. State your interest in the comments! Draw will remain open till Wednesday 8th June midnight.

Read another view by Octavian. Illustration via getnouveau.com