Orange blossom week: part 1- true renditions

Orange blossom is one of the most usual floral notes used in perfumery and its glorious slightly fruity, sweet and pervasing yet fresh scent has been brandishing its charms in traditional colognes and eaux de toilette for centuries.
Although an unmistakably floral in tone aroma it does hint of the fruit to come in a very elegant way that aromachemicals cannot mimic satisfactorily.

The word "orange" comes from Sanskrit "narang" or Tamil "naraththai". Another theory pertains that it is tied to a Dravidian root meaning "fragrant".
Oranges originated in southeast Asia in fact which is not unrelated to etymology (in India, Vietnam or southern China). The fruit of Citrus sinensis is called sweet orange to distinguish it from Citrus aurantium, the bitter orange.
Some languages have different words for the bitter and the sweet orange, and one of them is indeed Modern Greek which differentiates bettween bitter (nerantzi) and sweet (portokali which derives from Portuguese). The reason for these differences is that the sweet orange was brought from China to Europe during the 14th century for the first time by the Portuguese. For the same reason, some languages refer to it by "Applesin" meaning "Apple from China".
It is common to come across mentions of "arancia" or "arancio" ~deriving from latin~ on perfume bottles in italian as well as "zagara", "naranja" in spanish while in hebrew the name is "Zohar", also reflected in the portugeuse language.


Bitter orange is trully the pig of perfumery as it gives us so many aromatics for perfumes: the essential oil of the blossom, the heady and viscous absolute from the flowers that is rendered through a solvent extraction, cool neroli from a different method of manipulation of the flowers (distillation) that gives an aroma that is tangier, slightly more bitter and thus a little more atsringent and fresher, bitter orange oil from the rind of the fruit with its sweet-bitter scent, and the more masculine in tone, greener petit-grain from the distillation of twigs and leaves.

Orange blossom absolute is a miracle to behold both in terms of cost and its elusiveness. Some can even smell rank if not of the proper quality and only the real, quality thing can be the heady touch that turns heads and makes you weak in the knees as if catching a whiff of it passing a sunny orange grove in April.
The includion of orange blossom is de riguer in many oriental mixes, although its role is not limited to those: it features as a protagomist in many eau de colognes along with its sidekick neroli as well as in chypres and elegant florals.
Termed a white floral for its small white, slightly waxy petals, it is one of the loveliest blossoms to adorn a homemade bouquet and it has long been the state flower of Florida. The blossom is also emblematic of Riverside in California, famous for its Navel or Washington variety of oranges.
It is traditionally associated with good fortune and for that reason it was popular in bridal bouquets and head wreaths for weddings for some time. Even now in Greece and the Mediterranean it is customary for wedding taking place in villages or by the sea to adorn the head of the bride with simple small blossoms, which is very becoming especially on the naturally darker hair of those women. Folk songs have been composed drawing parallels between the bushy, fragrant head of a bitter orange tree with the head of a lovely lady.
The petals of orange blossom can also be made into a delicately citrus-scented version of rosewater, called "anthonero" (flower water). Orange blossom water is a common part of Middle Eastern and Mediterranean cuisine and it features in both sauces and in pastries. One such is the famous kourambiedes, an Easter and Christmas cookie that is made with rich butter and crushed almonds, rolled into dust sugar and gloriously eaten with coffee after meals. You can see a recipe for them here.
Orange blossom honey is a variation of honey that is not unusual in those areas of the world either: it is produced by putting beehives in the citrus groves during bloom, useful for agriulture as well as it pollinates seeded citrus varieties. Orange Blossom honey is highly prized for its peculiar, delicate like orange taste that differentiates it from aromatic honeys from thyme blossoms or pines.
Orange blossom even gives its touristic nickname to the Costa del Azahar ("Orange-blossom coast") in Valencia, a place that provides lots of orange fruit throughout Europe.

Starting our exploration of orange blossom, we focus on the more realistic interpretations of this heady and fresh note as attested by the following fragrances:
Fleur d'oranger by L'artisan Perfumer, Jo Malone Orange blossom Côté Bastide Fleurs d'oranger and I profumi di Firenze Zagara.
All of them explore the fresher, tarter aspect of the note, in various degrees and nuances.

The golden standard is indeed Fleur d'oranger by L'artisan parfumeur, based on a single harvest of Nabel in Tunisia, in 2004 and basing its exclusive and unfortunately very ephemeral success on the quality of that exceptional crops that yielded its sweet and light aromas into the embrace of a master perfumer such as Anne Flipo (who was responsible for Verte Violette and La Chasse aux papillons in the L'artisan stable of thoroughbreds).
It launched in 2005 for a very limited number of bottles for a very costly price, encased in a wooden box like a vintage of precious wine. And it is indeed precious in its single-minded loveliness that wraps you in cool cotton sheets of luminosity and joy. Its crystalline appearence shimmers in the light like a precious Baccarat ornament and it enslaves you upon testing as the truest soliflore on orange blossom created. Although light in tone it has good tenacity which adds to its charms. It is a pity that when the distribution ends there will be no more...

Jo Malone's Orange Blossom is a sweeter rendition which lacks the crystalline aspect of L'artisan, however it is quite close to the actual blossom and is very realistic, denoting a high percentage of natural essences used. The opening is a but fruiter and has a hint of the zest but it soon develops into the white floral that is so beloved by people of the South. The marriage of clementine leaves (a comparable species) and water lilies gives a limpidity and airiness that transports this into sunny climates and white clothing paired with silver jewels worn on a casual walk. It is unaffected, elegant and very popular in Greece, proving to be the bestseller of Jo Malone's line during the warmer months according to my sources in the company.

Zagara by I Profumi di Firenze is a citrusy gregarious thing based on the tart and cool elegance of bergamot that segues into notes of the white flower restraining the sweetness and injecting happiness and joy. It is deliriously happy and cheerful and it can be relied upon to lift spirits and rejuvenate on hot days.

Côté Bastide's Fleurs d'oranger rendition is also exceptionally true and light with a hint of citrus and green tonalities that lend a slight bitter edge that is again reminsicent of the living tree and the surrounding air. It is its greatest strength and its stamp of approval. Eminently wearable in summer and highly recommended for stuffy offices and homes.


Next post will tackle a different interpretation of the orange blossom note.

Painting "Man in Hat" by greek painter Nicolaos Lytras courtesy of allposters.com.

Orange blossom week: part 3 - rich nuances

"A disturbing wind blows from the east, saturating the city of Seville with the scent of orange. Juan Antonios dark hair flies off his shoulder and whips against his face. The seductive aroma of the orange blossom surrounds him and the perfumed wind wafts past his ears, whispering secrets only he can hear.

Can you smell the orange blossom? murmurs the wind. I love that scent. Do you remember? The wind blows stronger over the Guadalquivir River, lifting with it the raw reminder of a time when spring smelled sweet.
Juan Antonio looks up sharply and stares out over the river, his hand tensing around the fret board of his flamenco guitar. He feels the wind crawling around his neck, blowing past his face. He brushes a strand of hair from his eyes, but the fragrant wind only blows it back.
I can still feel you, whispers the wind. Smell you . . . taste you. The wind tosses a burst of citrus his way. Your hands smell of horses and leather, your lips of chocolate. I will never forget your delicious scent. But, I fear you have forgotten mine.

An angry cloud of orange swirls over Juan Antonio, threatening to engulf him. He yanks a scrap of cloth from his pocket and ties his hair back with the tattered fabric. Then he shouts to the perfumed wind. Dejame! Leave me alone! Frantically, he clamps the back of his hand against his nose to block out the opressive sweetness, but it is impossible to block the scent that the wind lifts. The seductive aroma of the azahar, the orange blossom, lives inside of him . . . tormenting him . . . robbing him of the peace he longs to find."

The above is an excerpt from the novel in progress Azahar by Susan Nadathur.
It captures well the ambience that a rich orange blossom perfume evokes in me: the south, its passions, its over the top sensualism, bravado, cheesiness even, yet also familiarity, tenderness, childhood memories of car hops across country, blossoms that die slowly in my lap under the heavy sun, cut too soon from the tree.
The intense sweetness of a lush orange blossom that has peaked, in its prime, with honeyied tones and is ready to yield fruit is trully unforgettable.

If we try to deconstruct the etymology and nuanced meanings of the word "richness" we come up against:

1.Possessing great material wealth
2.Having great worth or value: a rich harvest of grain.
3.Magnificent; sumptuous: a rich brocade.
4. a. Having an abundant supply: rich in ideas.
b. Abounding, especially in natural resources: rich land.
5. Meaningful and significant
6. Very productive and therefore financially profitable
7. a. Containing a large amount of choice ingredients, such as butter,sugar, or eggs, and therefore unusually heavy or sweet.
b. Having or exuding a strong or pungent aroma.
8. a. Pleasantly full and mellow.
b. Warm and strong in color.
9. Containing a large proportion of fuel to air: a rich gas mixture.
and 10. Informal, highly amusing.

All this according to The Free Dictonary by Farlex.

I think for our purposes, all of those terms and definitions apply.
A "rich" orange blossom perfume can be wealthy in that it exudes luxury, costly, sumptuous because of its magnificent aroma, mellow and full, strong and abundant, suggesting lushness and opulence, sweet yet also amusing, playful and warm. It can be all these things. And it performs these tasks admirably.
This is why my heart aches a bit whenever I catch a whiff of the abundance of orange blossom in strangers' passing-by-scent. The trail of opulence...

So, to evoke those memories and associations I chose the following perfumes that smell as rich and sweet as orange blossom in Andalucia does in spring:
Zohar by Ayala Moriel, 24 Faubourg by Hermes, Poeme by Lancome and Boucheron Femme by Boucheron.

Ayala's Moriel Zohar uses the hebrew word for enlightment and brilliance to render a very fine, luxurious soliflore that sprakles like a fine jewel under a hot glaring sun. Centered around Orange blossom absolute garlanded with tuberose and jasmine that add to its white floral theme without veering it into the excessive headache producing effect that some other heavy "whities" produce, it is a true gem. The top notes of fresh citrus essences like the japanese fruit yuzu and the divine cleaner neroli note pierce your nostrils playfully giving way to the abundant heart of the nucleus that intermingles warm amber and honey in an arabesque worthy of Alcazar. The slight rubberiness of true, natural tuberose plays hide and seek all along with alluring results, much lighter than that featured in Fleurs d'Oranger by Lutens, like a princess hidden under a veil in one of the corridors of the palace.

You can sample or order clicking here.

24 Faubourg by Hermès , named after the eponymous address of the House, reminds me of a wealthy protagonist in a classic old Hollywood movie: dressed in a light beige belted trenchcoat, impecably coiffed hair under a heavy silk scarf bearing a prestigious signature, wrapped on her precious little head, lipstic in deep coral, complexion of peaches and cream, out in a sports convertible driving on the slopes of Monaco without a care in the world but always in control of herself. The brilliance of the sun and the warmth of late spring in the air, cinemascope colours melting in amber as the afternoon approaches. If ever there was a trace of the essence of wealth and opulence rolled into one this would be it.
Do not opt for the version Eau Délicate though: the above effect can only be achieved by the Eau de parfum or better yet pure parfum/extrait.

Poême by Lancôme was launched with the darling sensitive face of Juilette Binoche and with verse by Baudelaire which would make it endearing despite its smell to my artistic heart. However an overindulegence by women in their 30s all along the 90s along with the bestseller Trésor by the same house left me with apprehension and tentative in ever owning a full bottle. Touted to be centered on datura flower (a flower of the desert) and Tibetan blue poppy (a very rare blossom), it smells of neither particularly; instead it launches on wild, unmistakable orange blossom arpeggios that are supported by potent cassis and amber notes, further sweetened by the -needless in my opinion- addition of vanilla and tonka bean. This is certainly a rich smell; not however in the manner in which Lancôme intended it to be. Too sweet, maybe too strong, Poême appears to be a little heavy handed and suffers as a result from it, despite its lushful heart. Is it any wonder that Juliette Binoche is in reality a Cristalle fan?

Boucheron Femme by the jeweler Boucheron is last but not least on our list of rich orange blossom scents. Althouth this one is much more of a floriental with all that entails, it has such a sublime, sunny and warm presence that it yelled in french (these were no crude yells, tu comprends) to be included in this line up, like the usual suspect of wealth purveyor that it is. Balanced and poised on the beauty of benzoin and olibanum on a powdery base rich in sandalwood it infuses its rich aroma from afar and entices its victims to fall prey to your guiles, tasting apricots and mandarins and lapping their greedy fingers in delicately hushed licks. In a gold bottle topped with a sapphire top like the gems Boucheron is famous for, it evokes luxury the Parisian way: old style, top clarity, lots of carats, but never ostentatious.

Next post will be in yet a different vein.

Pic of Baños de Doña María de Padilla in Alcazar, Seville, Spain courtesy of quovadimus.org.

Orange Blossom week: part 2 - sexy aromas

What is it that links orange blossom to sexy aromas? Many of the interpretations of this note in perfumery take advantage of the naturally lush and sexual aroma of the blossoms and in our investigation of this subject we have come up against many interesting tidbits of information that might help elucidate why and how.

The use of perfume as an enhancement and not concealement of genitalia and hormone odours has been in practice till ancient times. It was the knowledgable ancient Egyptian women who used Kyphi rolled in miniscule balls, placed in the vulva. They also used amber mixes and civet. The Hindus also used the smell of female genitalia as a classification point for women, in which no one is left unappareciated. In Shakespeare's times it was common for men and women to offer apples to the object of their affection that had been saturated in the sweat of the armpit. That was meant to be a signification of desire and perhaps an early attempt at judging whether the prospective lover's pheromones would intermingle well with their sensibilities.
In the Memoirs of Casanova, we come across an observation that there is a hidden something in the air of a lover's bedroom that would make it very easy to choose between it and Heaven itself. So much is the infatuation that a beloved's body produces in the soul. And on that note who can forget the infamous epistle of Napoléon to Joséphine when he passionately wrote to her: "Je réviens en trois jours; ne te lave pas!" (I return in three days, don't wash yourself)
Anais Nin and Henry Miller were no strangers to the alchemical nature of the odorata sexualis of a lover that can be enhanced by perfume and Nin's personal choice of Caron's Narcisse Noir (a fragrance rich in orange blossom)and Guerlain's Mitsouko shows an appreciation for blends that enhance a person's natural sexual aroma. Beaudelaire, Flaubert (who kept the mittens of his mistress on a drawer for sniffing purposes), Goethe and Reiner Maria Rilke are also literature figures that occupied themselves with the fragrant nature of seduction.
Even in our more pedestrian times the allure of the erotic has been used to great effect in advertising. From Schocking by Schiaparelli to Ambre Sultan by Lutens to Boudoir by Westwood, many perfumes have claimed to capture in fragrant droplets the odorata sexualis of a woman for seduction purposes. Last olfactory example of this being Tom Ford' attempt at it when he proclaimed that his last fragrance Black Orchid was supposed to smell of a man's crotch. I think not, but hey, you have been warned!

Of course like a plethora of things in life much of the effect of something relies on context. Meaning that leaving youself unwashed would not shill your charms to potential lovers necessarily if some particular smell is not pleasant to them or the sweat is rank. It all has to do with delicate proportion and adjustment. In a fascinating experiment by Paul Jellineck, recounted in Essence and Alchemy, people had been asked to smell versions of well-known frags such as Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant and a traditional eau de Cologne with and without the addition of neroli. In the former case the neroli just mingled with the other floral substances adding a fresh note and balancing them, whereas in the latter it seemed sultry and rich and therefore erotically nuanced. This goes to show that although there is a clear cut path to lust and sexuality, eroticism in perfume as in any other area is complex and subtle, dependent on context and associations that need a delicate hand in placing them there.

So how orange blossom is linked to all these exciting observations? Let me shock you a bit in case you were unaware of the fact. Orange Blossom (as well as jasmine) is filled with the fascinating indole.
According to Encyclopedia Brittanica:

Indole, also called Benzopyrrole, is a heterocyclic organic compound occurring in some flower oils, such as jasmine and orange blossom, in coal tar, and in fecal matter. It is used in perfumery and in making tryptophan, an essential amino acid, and indoleacetic acid (heteroauxin), a hormone that promotes the development of roots in plant cuttings. First isolated in 1866, it has the molecular formula C8H7N.

It is this base ingredient that is so abundant in white florals -among them orange blossom to a moderate degree- that apparently gives a nod to the human aspect of our existence and reminds us of our primeval objects in life: to have sex and procreate. In this context it is no accident that orange blossom is traditionally used in wedding wreaths, as discussed yesterday.
Therefore if a catcall to carnality is your objective, yet you want to go about it more discreetly than resorting to civet (the pungent extract of the anal glands of a species of the Viverridae shaped like a small fox and native to Abysinnia, Java, Borneo, Sumatra and Bengal and farmed in Ethiopia for perfume purposes), orange blossom can be a Heaven sent destined to confine you in the abyss of Hell.

For this purpose there is no better choice than the rich, sultry, lush and totally feminine with a capital F Fleurs d'oranger by Serge Lutens. Luckily a part of the export line, but also available in a beautiful bell jar in the exclusive Palais Royal for Shiseido line of scents, it is the essence of classy sexiness captured in a bottle. Like a woman of mature wiles sitting under an orange grove contemplating serious romance and seduction it is multi-nuanced with precious essences of white jasmine and indian tuberose that enhance the indolic aspect to magnificent proportions, laced with the sprinkle of fiery spice like cumin and nutmeg rolled in tangy citrus peel, all the while exuding aromas of muskiness and floralncy in alrernative overlappings like the tongue of a skillful lover. The inclusion of rose and hibiscus seeds consolidates the velours aspect of a base that never really leaves the skin, reminding you of happy romance even after it is just a distant memory in the farthest corners of your mind.


Next post will tackle another aspect of orange blossom.

Art photography by Spyros Panayiotopoulos, courtesy of eikastikon.gr

Orange blossom week: part 4 - abstract brushstrokes

What is abstract and how it pertains to olfaction? Let's question ourselves. If we're talking about abstraction as the thought process wherein ideas are distanced from objects then there is a whole school of offerings that evoke some distant memory of something through the use of non-representational means, just like in art; especially in Lyrical Abstraction (a term originally coined by Larry Aldrich in 1969 to describe what he saw in the studios of artists at that time)or even Abstract expressionism, of which Pollock is a representative example, on to the geometrical stylisation of Yiannis Moralis.

In such a context it is not hard to see that the rendition of an aromatic note, even such a familiar one as orange blossom, can be sublimated in a way that exalts its effect without featuring its true characteristics. In fact without featuring the actual thing at all!
Aromachemical engineers have the additional ability to use a note that naturally is only a top or heart or even base accent and manipulate it in order to make it last longer or for a lesser amount of time. Therefore orange blossom, a note that in its form of "absolute" is a heart to bottom note may appear out of the vial as soon as we open to smell or indeed neroli (the essential oil from orange blossom) might be discernible throughout a fragrance's development.
It is also possible to use aromachemicals that evoke the essence of orange blossoms like the ghost of someone near and dear appearing out of a desire to see them much like Hamlet's father, in a composition that is centered around them yet contains none. Ingredients that could be used include Aurantiol, Methyl Anthranilate, and Oranger Crystals.
Primary examples of this technique would be amply illustrated by Fleur du Mâle the new fragrance by Gaultier, Narciso For Her by Narciso Rodriguez and Castile by Penhaligon's. Indeed those are fragrances that fine though they are feature such an abstract orange blossom that it is spectral in its appearence rather than physical and tangible, like in examples previously mentioned.

Fleur du Mâle by Galtier has already had a full review at Perfumeshrine. Suffice to say that it is the essence of a fluffy cloud, all hay-coumarin and ersatz orange blossom through the eyes of a master of abstraction and could be worn by women just as easily as men.

Castile by Penhaligon's on the other hand is in another vein. Technically also a masculine fragrance, yet highly asexual in its soapy nature, it soars on notes of clean neroli and bergamot at first to warm up just a bit later on with hazy orange blossom, all the while retaining a clean atmosphere of minimalism.
I have a confession to make at this point. When staying at european hotels -the luxurious kind; I avoid the cheap ones after one horrible experience not due to my choosing which however left me probably scarred for life- I love to enter the bathroom first. Gaze at the white clean towels, all pressed and folded, the bath acroutments, lined up for my using, little soaps on the sink, inhale the aroma of cleanliness and proceed to the pulverised sheets on the bed that are starchy and unlined like big sheets of paper on the desk of a writer longing to be filled with ink recounting thoughts and memories of ambiguous value.
This is what Castile evokes in me: staying in a luxury hotel, posing as some person more important than the prosaic historian that I am, halo of far away distance from mundanity fimly placed on my head and not a care in the world behind my aviator sunglasses. "Clean" in a minimal, austere, yet also friendly way without featuring one sharp or musky note.

Narciso by Narciso Rodriguez on the other hand goes into the other direction of "clean". It has been such an influential, seething discovery in my relatively recent perfume past that I have real trouble talking about it. This might sound like a hyperbole and an unsuccessful one at that, yet I assure you that the way it has sneaked its way into my heart with its wiles is astounding. The concentration in the admittedly confusing range that I am focusing on at the moment is the Eau de toilette, with its sexy ambience of clean musks at the background and the inclusion of an abstract orange blossom touch on the foreground.
Nary does a day go by when wearing it that the passing stranger (and a loved one) does not turn to sniff a little longer, lean a little closer, sometimes even comment on it in complimentary terms. Nary does a day go by when wearing it that I am not trasported in a place of contentment, of confidence, of feeling fresh and young and able to conquer the world on a wink or a smile.
To categorise it as clean or as sexy is doing it an injustice. Its erotic power hinges on the creation of a distinguished, sophisticated eroticism which is ethereal and distanced from heavy seductions that in reality repel rather than entice. The absence of saccharine girliness despite the assured overall youthfulness of the composition speaks highly of a sexual being who is ready to consumate the affair with a playful toss of the leg up in the air and not after losing its virginity at the school's prom dance. Whether that would be the net result in the end is fair game to its paws, but nevertheless this is not the iniative on which the fragrance operates. It hums of unmade beds in homes rather than hotels, where the warmth of humans and the life of lovers has found a nest out of the cold harsh mechanical world outside.
Narciso Rodriguez eau de toilette is said to include notes of honey flower, solar musk, orange flower, amberlyn, tactile musk, and tactile woods.
Amberlyn by the way is a petrochemical that is intended to smell a bit like ambergris. Honey Flower is an evergreen shrub (genus Melianthus)native to Cape of Good Hope.
Too abstract for words really in its aroma-synthetic marvel, this Francis Kurkdjian oeuvre is a masterpiece that has it own place in the pantheon of great scents. I am sure that the future will be kind to its beautiful visage.



Painting "Young Girl" 1971 by greek painter Giannis Moralis courtesy of eikastikon.gr

Cooking with Essential Oils: Perfuming Food with Tuberose and Dill

One of the greatest joys of being a perfume writer and an amateur cook is combining the appreciation of scents into fields that surpass their own boundaries and leep into peripheral matter. Whenever I pick up a fresh cucumber at the open market for my preparation of tzatziki dip I lean to smell its smooth peel, often asking the seller to cut one in half in front of my very eyes so I can judge by smell; and nary does a day of food shopping goes by that I am not reminded by the aromata in front of me of ingredients in fine fragrance. The same principle applies when picking up flowers to adorn my house at the florist's, the hothouse or just while trailblaizing in the countryside; succumbing to the grace of the scent bouquet that even the simplest blossom exhibits is akin to discovering the complexity of the cosmos.

Imagine my elation when I was asked by a perfumer who has been using, procuring and even harvesting her own aromatic essences for long to test her newly-launched essences for food. For a long time I thought I was the only one to use orange blossom hydrosol for my Christmas cookies, yuzu essence to aromatize my sponge cake and peppermint drops into the big vat of Mojito cocktail served on the verandahs when entertaining in the summertime. Apparently, I was not and now many more will find it easier still.


Anya McCoy who just launched this line assures us that the essential oils used are of the highest quality and tested for tolerance in use in food: "I've been using natural essential oils and absolutes to perfume my food and drinks since 1978. I have been sourcing quality oils since 1970, so please know that the oils I offer for the Anya's Garden food and drink line are of the highest quality. These are the same aromatic oils that I use in my perfumes. [...]These oils and absolutes are GRAS - Generally Recognized as Safe by the USDA. They may also be used for creating perfumes.".



In what is thought of as "oils" she also has several things to divulge: "Essential oils are made by steam- or hydrodiffusion of plant materials, in a process called 'distillation'. The "oils" aren't necessarily oils as we think of them, meaning the fixed oils. They're often much more ethereal than that, and many are lighter than water, and will float on water. However, water can also be used to disperse them, especially when the tiny amount you'll be using is placed in water. You can experiment with seltzer water, some simple syrup and ice."

The two essences with which I played extensively were tuberose and dill, tuberose being an essence I picked myself exactly because of its challenging nature which doesn't immediately produce thoughts related to food. And yet Tuberose Absolute (Polianthus tuberosa) is a must for anyone with an interest in perfumery, but also anyone with the desire to experience the complexity of nature, red in tooth and claw! Perfumes try to approximate with Beyond Love by Kilian and Carnal Flower being perhaps the truest to realism, although a few, such as Fracas or Tubereuse Criminelle, tend to overshadow some aspects in order to highlight others; butteriness and sweetness via copious orange blossom in the Piguet classic, menthol via camphoraceous notes in the Lutens cult scent.
My thinking about experiencing this marvel of nature in consumable form went around the facets of tuberose essence itself: Being familiar with Indian tuberose absolute I well knew the intensity of its deep, intoxicating aroma with rubbery and green tonalities over the lactonic sweet and "cheesier" ones.
My mind went into the route of cordials, long cool drinks that are always a refreshing and aromatic proposition welcome on our shores, to exploit the sweeter side of tuberose, but also giving an unexpected jolt that would create the effect that juniper produces in good gin: aromatic depth and crispness. The following recipe can be a good substitute of a Kir Royale or a Spritzer if instead of water you add some brut Champagne.
I'm also starting to think of what it might do to a decent Margherita!

Recipe for Lime and Tuberose Cordial
Ingredients

• Limes
• Sugar granulated
• Anya's Garden tuberose essence
• crushed ice
• fresh spearmint for decoration
  
• optional: Champagne, brut
  

Method

• Hand-juice as many limes as you like (I like the rougher "texture" of hand-juicing)
  
• Measure the juice using a measuring jug to determine sugar ratio
  
• For every litre of juice you will need 1 kilo of granulated sugar
• Put the juice and sugar into a large pan and heat very gently over low heat
  
• Stirring continually heat till the sugar is completely dissolved
• Add one drop of tuberose essence for every litre of juice when "cooking" has finished
  
• Let it cool, then add chilled water/champagne and crushed ice and decorate with spearmint
  

À votre santé!

Dill is another aroma with which I am intimately familiar. Fresh dill is a joy; small bunches of long, stamen-like delicate "leaves" that get routinely chopped off into soups, yoghurt pastes and cheese-pies, alongside shallots and fresh spearmint, or sprinkled onto fresh sliced cucumbers themselves sprinkled with salt. They aromatize the whole kitchen with the scents of springtime.
I also adore dill in hovmästarsås, the traditional Swedish sauce that accompanies gravlax, the cured hearty salmon dish. The fresh, slightly peppery, slightly wet aroma of dill mixes with sugary mustard and is cut by the saltiness of the fish.

To play with dill essence, I used it in something I make almost every week: tzatziki dip. This garlicky, thick paste is traditionally Greek and accompanies almost every variety of charcoal-grilled meat as well as several dishes of pasta, such as the famous Kahzak and Kyrguz recipe for Tatar Böregi (which the Turkish and the Greek who borrowed it call it "manti"). It's also the meanest dip for crudites! Just remember to brush your teeth and tongue afterwards to get rid of the garlic smell.


Recipe for Tzatziki Paste with Dill essence

Ingredients

• 2 fresh and aromatic cucumbers (do NOT buy if they don't smell fresh and green)
  
• 2 large pots of fresh, super thick strained Greek yoghurt with at least 8% solid fats (Fage is the widest distrubted brand and it's very good in 10% fat content, but if you have a local Middle-Eastern deli go and ask for fresh "strained yoghurt" served and packed by weight on cellophane)
  
• Anya's Garden dill essence
• 5-8 cloves of garlic (it's best to use raw garlic than powdered, it's more authentic)
  
• salt and lemon zest to taste
• a spoonful of extra virgin olive oil
• optional: capers and black olives for decorating
  

Method

• Empty the yoghurt into a big bowl and let it sit covered with a towel. It might have a little bit of water surfacing. Throw that out with a spoon carefully. You want it to be as thick and creamy as possible.
  
• Wash the cucumbers thoroughly and shred them in an onion hand-shredder/grater roughly
  
• Add the cucumbers into the yoghurt
• Clean and slice the garlic finely, you want it to be imperceptible, add to yoghurt
  
• Put 3-4 drops of dill essence into the mix
• Add lemon zest and salt to taste
• Decorate with the capers and olives and refrigerate. The longer it sits the richer it tastes.
• When you serve, spill the extra virgin olive oil on top. It makes the colours and flavours come alive!

Καλή όρεξη!


You can purchase the aromatic essences directly off Anya's Garden site. There will be more additions in the beginning of May. Tuberose is among them.

Other bloggers are writing about this too! Check out Anne's Food, Ca Fleure Bon, Better Baking, Bois de Jasmin and Stirring the Senses.

Educational Resource:
Guide to Career Education can assist amateur cooks with finding a good mix of art and cooking classes that will help you think outside the box when it comes to your cooking creations.

Disclosure: I was sent a sample of the essential oils by the perfumer.

Guerlain Mitsouko: fragrance review & history

Few perfumes are entangled in such mythos and in such erroneous rumours as Mitsouko by Guerlain. Mysterious, balanced, sumptuous, it's nothing short of a Gordian Knot which demands a swift cutting through its mysteries to arrive at the truth. And truth is not easily provided for this 1919 fragrance which closed the era of WWI and opened up Les Années Folles.

Famous patrons & their fateful stories on Mitsouko
Jean Harlow, the platinum blonde sex-pot of the 1930s who was born on March 3rd 1911, all slinky peignoirs and ice put on the nipples behind those satiny gowns, used Mitsouko in Dinner at Eight; it was her favourite fragrance in real life. Her platinum head was not what the creators at Guerlain had originally thought of: Mitsouko was right from the start destined for brunettes, while L'Heure Bleue was recommended for blondes. She gladly embraced both, much like she let her hairdresser put peroxide, ammonia, Clorox, and Lux Flakes on her naturally darker hair.
Little did Jean know that her first husband Paul Bern would be found dead and drenched in Mitsouko in a astounding case of a suicide just one week after the wedding. Rumours say that it was impotence that drove him to his act of desperation. Jean was put to record saying all three marriages she got into were "marriages of inconvenience". Perhaps the sad story inspiring Mitsouko perfume was a bad omen for her love life as well.

It certainly didn't really bring good luck to other famous patrons, such as the impressario of Les Ballets Russes, Sergei Diaghilev (who drenched his curtains with it) or Charlie Chaplin. In the unexpurgated diary of erotic authoress Anais Nin, Henry and June, Mitsouko features prominently as the perfume that June Miller asks to be given her by Anais. Of course, to follow the truism by Gore Vidal [1], lying had become Nin's first nature, so all bets are off on whether that actually happened: What remains is that Mitsouko was indeed Nin's scent of choice, alongside Narcisse Noir by Caron. Such is the repercussion of the scent in cultural heritage that a pop sensation of the late 1980s, the French duo of Les Rita Mitsouko christened themselves after it!

photo via toutenparfum

The Legend of the Creation: Myth and Misunderstandings


Lore on the inspiration of Mitsouko wants Jacques Guerlain to have wanted to pay homage to a popular novel of the time, “La Bataille” by Claude Farrère. In it Mitsouko, a beautiful Japanese woman and the wife of Admiral Togo, is secretly in love with a British officer aboard the flagship of the Japanese fleet during the 1905 war between Russia and Japan; Mitsouko awaits with dignity the outcome of the battle, nobly overcoming her feelings. Hence derives the confusion about the spelling of the name: although Mitsuko [sic] is a Japanese word, neither is it spelled Mitsouko nor does it mean "mystery" as the official press of Guerlain would like us to believe. Like other perfume tales, it's just that: a romantic allusion to "zee love storee" that enslaves women's imagination and stirs men's loins.

It's a fascinating discovery to find that Mitsouko despite its technical mastery and sumptuous character, and my friend's wittism when sniffing off a vintage bottle that "it smells the way a porn film would", isn't one for seduction: Luca Turin in his 1993 French guide recommended against such a use. It's debatable whether he did so because he found it not immediately accesible for such a purpose or because he deemed it highly intellectualised to demean it via lowly feminine wiles. The fact remains that although highly revered, Mitsouko is one fragrance which the Western man rarely considers as traditionally "sexy" among a stable of fruity chypres that manage to convey the idea of sexiness and erotic proximity much more readily: Rochas Femme, Diorama, even YSL Yvresse... Fruity chypres due to their typically lusher, more "golden" character with an injection of decay (fruit can easily go from ripe to overripe, recalling how a woman can do so as well) are a noted exception within that group of cerebral fragrances known as "chypres". Mitsouko could be the equivalent of someone reading the Financial Times in terms of smarts and composure. Perhaps this is why its erotic tension is not immediately understandable.

Cinematic References
In Louis Bunuel's cult classic Belle de Jour respectable newly-wed doctor's wife, but frigid and masochistic, Catherine Deneuve accidentaly smashes a huge "flacon montre" of Mitsouko in a symbolic scene in her bathroom before setting to spend the afternoon as a prostitute. Would the scene work equally well semiotically with another perfume? Doubtful...

Perfume writer Susan Irvine recounts how one day in Paris she shared a taxi with a woman [wearing Mitsouko] who smelled "the way God intended women to smell: plush, troubling and golden" [2]. And goes on to reveal in a Vogue article that adopting Mitsouko for a year produced no comments whatsoever from anyone, contrary to her compliments galore success with YSL Paris!

Understanding the erotic dimension of Mitsouko

Perhaps what's most interesting about the strange position of Mitsouko in its erotic charge is how it encapsulates two quite different perspectives on how human bodies should or would smell of. The 19th-century Japanese referred to western traders as "batakusai", which roughly translates as "stinks of butter" due to their high dairy consumption which gave their skin a cheesy aspect (isovaleric and butyric compounds do that); while the Brits found the Japanese in turn "fishy", again a reflection on an insular diet. How would the British officer and the beautiful Japanese wife named Mitsouko would have found a middle-ground between their human scents of passion?

Nowadays, Mitsouko is Guerlain's top seller in Japan, in a reverse homage to the brand that ushered Japonism in the mainstream many decades ago. This goes against all received wisdom that the Japanese go for "light" perfume and only rarely ever put it on themselves. One wonders if the cultural milieu of accepting smells that are different than those perceived as pleasurable in the West allows them a higher appreciation of this masterpiece of a scent.

Deconstructing the scent & formula of Mitsouko

The composition of Mitsouko was revolutionary at the time, even though it updated and -arguably- improved on the seminal formula of F.Coty's Chypre: The innovative peach-skin note perceived at the heart of the Guerlain fragrance derives from a modern synthetic ingredient, aldehyde C14 or gamma undecalactone (Peach essence cannot be naturally extracted). The inclusion of the famous base Persicol ("bases" are ready made smell-chords for perfumers) which included it contributes to the peachy, warm effect. Flanked by murky oakmoss and refreshing bergamot at each end ~thus composing a classic chypre chord~, it adds spicy accents reminiscent of cinnamon and cloves ~especially felt in the Eau de Toilette version which circulated till recently.  

Mitsouko also utilizes rose, neroli (a light-smelling orange blossom distillation product), woods, vetiver and patchouli for a short but succinct formula which balances itself between apothecary and pattiserie. The candied orange peel effect mollifies every herbal aspect, while the flowers are so subdued and well-blended as not to be discernible as such; if abstraction is elegance, then Mitsouko is very elegant indeed, without nevertheless losing its sensuality; there's a furry little animal hiding underneath it all, although you can't really place it!

The mysterious, haughty fragrance is in chasm with every recent pop trend, making a difficult love-affair much like its storyline; nevertheless indulging in a bottle of Mitsouko is the hallmark of the true connoisseur, like a fine Pinot Noir wine can be an acquired taste. If you try and do not like it in the end, there is no reason to beat yourself up for it, just because we proclaim it such a beautiful and smart fragrance; but be sure to give it a chance in different times, different weather (it expresses itself wonderfully on rainy days, which bring to the fore its earthy core) and different moods. After all, as The Bombshell Manual of Style declares: “Mitsouko has more sensuous layers to unpeel than Rita Hayworth dancing the Dance of the Seven Veils as Salome."

Comparing Mitsouko concentrations & vintages

Different concentrations and different vintages produce different effects. Vintage parfum extrait is so rich and luscious as to render experiencing Mitsouko a rare occasion of olfactory satiation. The oakmoss galore of as recent crops as Eau de Toilette and Parfum de Toilette from the 1980s and early 1990s is exquisite in its unsettling, deeply mossy ambience. The modern Eau de Parfum version reworked by Edward Flechier (this happened in early 2007 due to oakmoss restrictions imposed by European Union legislature, with Eau de Toilette being the first to reformulate) is the best rendition closer to the original idea, while the current Eau de Toilette seems thinned and yielding a bread, yeasty note which I personally feel is incongruent with the image which I have in my head of it.

Bottle Designs

The classic bottle design, called “inverted heart” because of its cap, reprises the design of another Guerlain classic L’Heure Bleue which was issued in 1912, due to the shortages of World War I [3]. It's the golden standard on which both Eau de Toilette and Eau de Parfum still circulate to this day. After the success of Mitsouko, the design stayed, as a gentle stylistic reminder of the two bottles opening and closing the period between the beginning and the end of the war. And indeed if L’Heure Bleue is contemplative daydreaming and above all romantic like La Belle Epoque, Mitsouko is mysterious and emancipated heralding the era of flappers like no other perfume.

Other presentations include the flacons quatrilobe, amphora/rosebud and umbrella bottle (for the extrait de parfum) and the montres (cyclical bottles with a gold pyramidal cap) for the very lasting and robust vintage eau de cologne concentration circulating throughout the 50s, 60s and 70s with the mint green, round label.
A limited edition flanker called Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus circulated a couple of seasons ago (you can read our review on it on the link).

Notes for Guerlain Mitsouko:
Top: Bergamot, Lemon, Mandarin, Neroli
Middle: Peach, Rose, Clove, Ylang-Ylang, Cinnamon
Base: Oakmoss, Labdanum, Patchouli, Benzoin, Vetiver.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain reviews, The Chypre Series

[1] In Palimpsest, a Memoir
[2] Irvine, S. The Perfume Guide, 2000 Haldane Mason
[3] Guerlain archives
pics via felixhollywood blog and parfum de pub

Win an A.Tauer Bottle of Your Choice! (and reviews on Une Rose Vermeille & Eau d'Epices)

Andy Tauer has been at the Pitti Fragranze exhibition in Florence, but his generosity to the perfume community is well documented and knows no territorial bounds. Therefore, he offered a contest for Perfume Shrine readers with a brand new bottle of perfume as prize and the winner gets to choose between his two upcoming launches: ROSE VERMEILLE or EAU D’ÉPICES.
So what should you do to enter the contest? Simple: State which is your favourite Andy Tauer scent & why in the comments; or if you haven't tried any, why you would want to sample an A. Tauer fragrance and maybe which catches your fance.
I will pick the best entry (to my discretion) and forward the winner's data to Tauer, so he can send them the fragrance. Contest is open till the end of the week, Sunday midnight, so you have plenty of time to participate.

In the above context and to help you a bit, I have sampled both fragrances and they're predictably very good. Of course all spicy fragrances by Tauer are awesome and the characteristic "Tauerade" (the house's beloved mix of labdanum, Tonka and the ambergis note) in the base is echoing through both. The spicy bouquet on top of L’eau d’épices is comforting and cozy. I don't know if it's the approaching cool of autumn and the longing for evenings spent by the fire, wrapped with a fluffy blanket and holding a mug of muled wine, but there's something immediately appealing about this scent which I am sure will find many fans. The cardamom is especially nice and coupled with the labdanum at the base created a sweet, resinous feeling. Tauer likens it to a walk through a pineta and I wouldn't disagree. The other spices are more of a familiar clove-y mix which recalls pomanders, the juicy citrus peel festooning the spicy prongs.
Une Rose Vermeille is a fruity rose, but fruity in the way that natural rose essence has a tangy, sometimes honeyed-hesperidic quality: the rose pairs with the mandarin and the framboise very well. After all, Tauer does love his roses and treats them like princesses. Andy here used Bulgarian rose absolute, which is very costly, and bypassed the powdery aspects into highlighting the liqueur-like tones so it reads "modern" and almost edible, like the rose jams we used to make around here, rather than "retro". Succulent!
Both fragrances project clean somehow, they feel "fresh" and bright and could be worn by either sex, but they're a far cry from the laundered & bleached "clean" fragrances that flood the market and recall functional products rather than fine fragrance. This is ascertaindly fine fragrance and is proud of it!

By the way, Andy intimated that he's introducing a smaller 30ml flacon for two of the Homage scents, Une Rose Chyprée (you can read a review here) and Une Rose Vermeille. Good news for those with tighter budgets!


Notes on the two new scents from Tauer Perfumes:
Scent N0. 12-EAU D’ÉPICES (eau de parfum, in the classic blue Tauer 50 ml flacon).
HEAD NOTES An Indian basket of spices with cinnamon, cardamom, clove and coriander with red mandarines.
HEART NOTES An opulent heart of orange blossom, jasmine, orris root and incense.
BODY NOTES A woody cistus ladaniferus resin, softened with ambergris, Tonka beans and vetiver.
Available worldwide end of September, about 120 $US

Scent No. 10-UNE ROSE VERMEILLE (eau de parfum, in a new 30 ml flacon, presented for the first time in Florence, September 10).
HEAD NOTES A citrus chord with lemon and bergamot with a whisper of lavender.
HEART NOTES Sumptuous bouquets of roses and violets, kissed by luscious raspberries.
BODY NOTES The richness of vanilla, sandalwood and Tonka beans, touched by the elegance of ambergris.
Available worldwide end of September, about 130 $US

Disclosure: samples vials of the scents were sent me by the perfumer

Olea Sancta: The Mysterious Alchemy of the Holy "Myhro"

Among the arcane fragrant mixes in existence, be it from antiquity or from more recent years, Olea Sancta (holy oil) is perhaps the most wide-spread and yet most elusive. This is the name given to what is commonly refered to among Orthodox Christians as "holy myhro" (though it's intricately more complex than simple myrrh, as you will see below); the scented oil used for the consecration of the Holy Chrism*, an annointing ritual of particular importance in the Orthodox Church as it is believed that the fragrant oil imparts the gifts of the Holy Spirit upon the converts, following baptism. As the Orthodox Easter is drawing closer and the heavy-toll, mourning sounds of the church bells outside my windows is resounding on Good Friday, I am reminded of the ritual of the manufacturing of Olea Sancta which takes place during the Holy Week at the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Istanbul, roughly every ten years. But Olea Sancta has ancient uses beyond catechism: it was used for the coronation of Orthodox kings and emperors and during establishing new churches, sprinkled on the Holy Abode. And it's also used (in heavy dilution alas, as I can attest) on Holy Wednesday, when people gather at the church to hear the liturgy and partake in the "ιερό ευχέλαιο" and be reminded of the unknown woman who bathed Jesus's feet and scented him with spikenard from an alabaster...The mystagogy during this ritual, with the lamenting sounds of the Byzantine tradition sung in the distance, is hair-raising.

This year is one when the "holy myro" was prepared once again and indeed the Olea Sancta εψήθη/ was "cooked" in the Fanari neighbourhood, in the courtyard of the Patriarchate under a specially designed canopy, which prompted this posting of mine. The preparation of the Chrism in the Patriarchate is carried out by the college of the Kosmētores Myrepsoí (Κοσμήτορες Μυρεψοί, "Deans Perfumers"), presided by the Árchōn Myrepsós, the "Lord Perfumer". The incumbent Archon Myrepsos is biochemist Prodromos Thanasoglou.

The materials going into the manufacture of the Holy Chrism comprise ancient herbs, exotic peels and essential oils, of which the most important is Bulgarian rose absolute provided by the Orthodox Church of Bulgaria.The components of Olea Sancta with different variations and additions appear in catalogs from as far back as the 8th century AD until the late 19th century. The inspiration comes from the description by Moses in the book of Exodus and the holy anointment oil began being manufactured crudely in the 2nd century AD. Initially the ingredients were 13, as named in a Berber Code from the 8th century. In 1951, during the tenure of Athinagoras Ecumenical Patriarch, the recipe was established as including 57 ingredients, each with its own mystical, symbolic use.

The full recipe of Olea Sancta reads like a journey into the fragrant products of the Mediterranean and the Indian peninsula: extra virgin olive oil, wine, orange blossom water, cinnamon, iris rhizome, Chios mastic resin, bay leaves, Bulgarian rose absolute, angelica, marjoram (σάψιχο), lavender, nutmeg, citrus peel, cloves, rosemary, myrrh resin, elemi, labdanum, cassia, turpentine, styrax, oud (ξυλοβάλσαμο), cyperus, μυροβάλανος (a dried drupe fruit from India which exudes a myrrh-like aroma), black pepper, ginger, myrtle, spikenard (i.e. Nardostachys jatamansi),  and valerian root (also called Indian leaves). Also used is natural deer musk, the animal secretion from the gland of the male deer, procured many decades ago, and natural ambergris.

The "epsisis"(maceration) is just as intricate: it begins on Good Monday morning after Mass, when the basic ingredients of Chrism are sanctified during a special sequence, headed by the Ecumenical Patriarch. The sprinkling with holy water boilers, utensils and materials are sprinkled with holy water. Double and triple candlesticks are lit, illuminating each of the five boilers. The fire is fanned on wood coming from disfigured old icons only. Reading continues from bishops and priests who alternate at regular intervals.

The procedure follows the same standard layout on Holy Tuesday and Holy Wednesday, when the Oil now clear, is poured into a large silver urns, silver in small containers, as well as alabaster, then transferred to the Patriarchal Chapel of St. Andrew . From there on the morning of Holy Thursday the procession moves to the Patriarchal Church where 24 priests hold the 12 jars and 35 bishops hold silver and alabaster vessels while the patriarch who holds a silver bowl. During the liturgy the Chrism is consecrated. From then on, the Olea Sancta is ready to be safekept in the Myrofylakio, the "myro safe keeping" special reserve at the Patriarchate.

This fragrant tradition bears the mystery of old with every drop deposited on the forehead and the palms of the hands, remininding us that scent and man have travelled together through the eons.

*It is similar to one of the three oils used in the Catholic tradition, but there it is prepared with just balsam instead [the Catholic holy oils include Oil of the Sick ("Oleum Infirmorum") Oil of Chrism ("Sanctum Chrisma"), and Oil of Catechumens( "Oleum Catechumenorum"), of which only Chrism is scented, the rest being simply sanctioned olive oil]

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: 
Joan of Arc and Egyptian Mummies Tied by Scent, 
The Mystery of Egyptian Elixirs

Traditional Greek Orthodox hymn "Mystifying" recited by actress Katerina Lehou, sung by Sophia Manou.

Penhaligon's, Meadham Kirchhoff & The Chocolate Tree Collaborate on Multi-Sensory Experience

Meadham Kirchhoff’s multi-sensory shows have rapidly become the talk of London Fashion Week and Penhaligon’s is delighted to be scenting their A/W 2012 collection A COSMOLOGY OF WOMEN: CHAPTER 5 "He gave me Blue Roses, LIFE ! (vicariously)" in more ways than one. Meadham Kirchhoff, will probably surprise the visitors of their autumn/winter 2012 show most pleasantly, offering a special multi-sensory experience. Why? Because Penhaligon's fragrance Eau San Pareil was chosen to scent the show space as well as the models. But that's not all: Special chocolates were made for this very event only with the help of the chocolate specialists The Chocolate Tree.
Edinburgh-based chocolatier in East Lothian, The Chocolate Tree has marked its territory as purveyors of fine handmade organic chocolates and confectionary for any occasion.

"Penhaligon’s has worked with Meadham Kirchhoff and Edinburgh based chocolatier The Chocolate Tree, to create an exclusive Eau San Pareil confection, designed to be enjoyed during the show. The chocolate has been carefully created to reflect the notes in this season’s chosen scent Eau San Pareil. Opening with a giddy rush of sparkling fruits and sensual white flowers, Eau Sans Pareil is a shimmering chypre softened with sweet woods, elegant oakmoss and musks."

To be more specific Penhaligon's Eau San Pareil encompasses top notes of aldehydes, neroli, mandarin, bergamot, kumquat, raspberry, pineapple, cypress, pink pepper and tagetes. The heart rests on jasmine, rosa Damascena, muguet, orris, ylang-ylang, orange blossom, liquorice and clove. The base is warm with notes of patchouli, vetiver, cedarwood, oakmoss, musk, vanilla, cistus, labdanum, benzoin and amber.

images & info via Penhaligon's

Linda Pilkington of Ormonde Jayne: "People Should Stop Making More Perfumes!"

There are perfume lines which have a level of quality that is consistent, the hallmark of attentive planning and meticulous care to the last detail. In the case of Ormonde Jayne, it's a case of cherchez la femme, or in other words Linda Pilkington, its founder and soul. Personally I consider Linda a friend by now: Not only have we over the years gone over our children's respective routines, laughing at the little things, as well as our womanly preoccupation with meeting the many roles modern women are expected to fulfill, but there is also a special pleasure in exchanging news and chatting on developments in the fragrant industry which rises beyond the "saving face" methods of most perfumery owners. Linda, despite her ladylike manner and her pretty petite physique, doesn't mince her words and that's a refreshing quality to find amidst a world that is immersed into producing and selling a sanitized fantasy.
The stepping stone for our conversation I'm transcribing for you here has been a new service that is offered at her own brick & mortar boutique and the new corner at Harrods, called "Perfume Portraits", but it evolved into so much more... so I am breaking it up in two parts (Part 2 will be up next week).
I hope you will enjoy it as much as we both did!

Elena Vosnaki: Linda, it's with much interest that I learned you're offering a new service to your clients. How does Perfume Portraits work and why is it different than other consultations?

Linda Pilkington: Perfume Portraits is a quick profiling process offered at our stores by specially trained staff, aiming to guide the clients through not only the portfolio of Ormonde Jayne fragrances, but through the building blocks of the scents, the raw materials composing them. This is a lot different than asking the client their formed preferences, because it allows them to converse with the materials themselves rather than the finished products and encourages a gut response that aims at the subconscious rather than an intellectualised "fabricated" reaction. I have too often seen people coming into the shop thinking they'd go for some genre, only to discover they completely went against type. The most surprising case involved a gentleman (we have lots of male customers) who was very butch, the biker type with the helmet, the Perfecto jacket and the boots and all, he looked very masculine, very virile and acted the part and when we actually sat down to do his Perfume Portrait I found out he loved white flowers! Feminine, lush, delicious flowers, like orange blossom, jasmine, freesia, things like that. He caught me by complete surprise! In the end he went his merry way having bought Champaca, our rice-steam & flowers perfume, which to him was utter bliss.

EV: Haha!! Love this! More anecdotes to share?

LP: Another gentleman was very hard to "crack": He was so silent, the quiet type; not easy to pigeonhole at all. But you see, Perfume Portraits just requires to respond with a "yes", a "no" or "maybe" to the essences presented for sniffing so it's non dependent on a specific vocabulary, which can be intimidating to the non initiated. Not every one of our clients is a perfumista, but they're discerning and they do want to find something they will really love.
The most baffling case was a lady who came into the shop, sniffed all the seperate essences and didn't like any of them! Exasperated, we had to ask "what do you like to wear then?" She explained she used to get vanilla extract for cooking and put that behind her ears! But she wanted to find something more sophisticated. So we tried to introduce her to a sweet scent, with an element of what she liked, but considerably notched up; we offered Ta'if, our saffron and roses combination which includes sweet dates that would appeal. She liked it a lot and got a bottle, but the most extraordinary thing is how much her husband enjoyed it! He mailed us a while later to let us know he loved the smell and welcomed the change! That's a case of a successful turn-around we're proud of.

EV: It definitely is! Any "naughty" stories while doing the consultations?

LP: Ah Elena, I could tell you hundreds! Are your readers up to them?

EV: I think so!

LP: Well, then, there's one: There was someone who was going through the essences and the oils we offer; there's a cluster of 21 raw materials, three from each of 7 families (hesperidic, light floral, intense floral, balsamic, oriental, woody and atmospheric). So stumbling upon one, I was surprised to hear "it smells like when you touch yourself". But you know what, it was the right impression. It did smell like that! And I didn't perceive any aversion on their part in saying so, so I felt comfortable to proceed. So you see, there's a lot to the process of finding out preferred smells, it's not always just going for the pretty smells.

EV: So, do you think that there is some correlation between how attuned someone is to smells in general (pretty and non pretty, in perfumes or in everyday life) and how much they're into perfumes?

LP: Definitely! I'd go further and say that people who are into smells are more sensuous on the whole. They embrace the sensations brought on to their senses by stimuli from other activities, such as cooking, gardening, pampering themselves with beautiful frabrics or even sex, and they're therefore more receptive to perfumes.

EV: This is what we have been empirically commenting on, online on the perfume fora, comparing notes, so to speak, on how many of us are into cooking, appreciating fashions on a tactile level, the arts etc. Now, please let us know about the procedure itself. And please define what constitutes the "atmospheric" family of essences you mentioned!

LP: I made up the term "atmospheric" for oils that have an effervescence to them, an unusual sparkle, such as those entering Isfarkand and Zizan. It's a fantasy term!
Seated at a bespoke testing table, trained staff take notes about the client’s likes and dislikes, favourite perfumes and other aromas. The customer is then invited to smell three raw ingredients from 7 different families. At this stage the client is only asked to say if they like the aroma or not, and not to try to relate the scent to a perfume they might wear. This segment takes all but 6 minutes, because we don't want to overload the client, but to bring out gut responses, letting personal taste be guided by the mind’s limitless scope to decipher the aromas around. When that's done, two or three Ormonde Jayne perfumes that may suit by summarizing the favoured oils are recommended. Again, the favoured perfumes are presented on a second collection of black and gold ceramic stones. The client will then choose the perfume they like best. Sometimes this could be two or three perfumes and the chosen perfume is finally sprayed onto the wrists.
We also take notes on other preferences, if they prefer to take baths or showers, if they like oil of cream consistency best, their habits, who served them at the shop, what they bought if they bought anything, alongside a telephone number. This is all filed in a personalised card so that it's always available to the client for reference. You'd be surprised at how many husbands walk through the door meaning to get their wife a gift and don't know what her favourite fragrance is! But also how many clients bought something, they need to replenish, but in the interim have forgotten the name!

EV: I assume they throw out the bottles? But tell me, why are ingredients presented on ceramic and not on blotters or sprayed in the air (under some form of tincture or dilution, naturally, when technically feasible)?

LP: Well, another reason behind the Perfume Portraits consultation was that we wanted to eliminate the congested atmosphere in our shops. We have 12 fragrances in our line now. For a client to go through them all it would be asphyxiating, not to mention very confusing, to spray each and every one of them in rapid succession. Have you noticed how when you enter a perfume hall you're greeted by the scented air hanging over from previous customers testing? Even in the first hours after opening. There are just too many perfumes around! I think people should just stop making more perfumes. Give it a rest for a while!

EV: "People should stop making more perfumes": Now, there's a quote! Especially coming from someone in the business who has a lucrative brand. Linda, explain yourself, darling!

LP: There are just too many perfumes overall. Pressure to issue new things all the time, at least in the mainstream sector. At Ormonde Jayne, which is a thoughourly niche brand, we're free to operate at the beat of our own drum. Why rush to bring out a new one? There's no reason to!

EV: But aren't you interested in taking advantage of the new techniques and materials which as they emerge dictate trends? I'm thinking about the many magnolia-focused fragrances we've seen, or the resurgence of tuberose recently in so many niche releases, accountable to new supplies and methods of rendering.

LP: I'm not bound by trends! I'm simply not interested in trends! Of course it's natural that "trends" are formed through the options of new suppliers or new techniques of extraction of oils which de facto interests perfumers. But that doesn't mean one has to have a new fragrance out because of that. Magnolia, which incidentally is a favorite flower and note of mine, is already highlighted in our fragrances. I just don't see the need...

To be continued...
In Part 2 Linda Pilkington talks about the market and some intriguing little-known facts about luxury clients vs. mainstream clients, her plans for Ormonde Jayne for the future both in the UK and in the US, and the surprising & scary power of the Internet.


Paintings by Joël Rougié "Les Demoiselles aux Fleurs Jaunes" and "Les Ballerines"

Cuir by Lancome: fragrance review and history

What possessed the dignified monsieur Petitjean, who had launched the Parfums Lancôme in the previous year, to christen his new leather scent Révolte? Armand Petitjean was no firebrand: a former importer of French products to Latin America, he had been a diplomat, mandated to persuade South American countries to support the Entente Powers (France, Russia, the UK) against the Central Powers (Germany, the Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman Empires) in WWI. Returning to civilian life, he worked with the “Napoleon of perfume”, the great François Coty. But he hadn’t agreed with Coty’s mass-market policy, and left the company, taking with him the head of the Coty studio, Georges Delhomme, and a chemist, Pierre Velon, to found his own luxury brand.
Lancôme was launched with great fanfare at the 1935 Brussels Universal Fair, with five fragrances, each meant to please different types of women on different continents: Tropiques, Tendres Nuits, Kypre, Bocages and Conquête. The scents bottled in baroque flacons designed by Delhomme in reaction to the spare, Art Deco trend – and in tune with fashion’s move towards femininity and away from the flapper era - were not a commercial success, and Petitjean soon branched out into skincare and makeup.
The next year saw the launch of Révolte. It might well have been a belated answer to Lanvin’s own leather scent, the provocatively named Scandale, but the social and political context in France was far from peaceful. 1936 was a bristling year in French politics. The civil war raged just south of the border, in Spain. The left-wing coalition Front Populaire has just gained power, and dedicated itself to easing the working class’ burdens, instating the 40-hour week and the first paid holidays (an event celebrated by Patou with Vacances), promoting the access of culture and sports for the masses. It was also the first government to give ministerial portfolios to women, who hadn’t yet been granted the right to vote.

The name Révolte, so unsuited to Armand Petitjean’s vision of luxury, didn’t last long. In 1939, it was changed to the less inflammatory Cuir, so as not to damage Lancôme’s trade with Latin American countries who were rather agitated at the time, but also, one would surmise, because France had just declared war on Germany and any reminder of further instability, even a fragrant one, was unwelcome. Also the connotations in the English language (“revolt” brought to mind “revolting”, not good marketing for a scent) might have influenced the decision…

Armand Petitjean was the “nose” of his house as well as its copywriter. He also taught the Lancôme recruits on the subject of perfumery. In the Editions Assouline’s book by Jacqueline Demornex, Lancôme, Petitjean’s classes are quoted thus on the subject of his teacher, François Coty:

“Coty was a builder. In front of his castle of Montbazon, he had built a terrace, which gave the same impression as his perfumes: clear, solid, magnificent. He didn’t conceive that a living room could be anything but round or elliptical. The galleries, he wanted wide. His perfumes were exactly conceived in this way.”

It is thus the great heritage of the father of modern perfumery that is carried on in the first Lancôme compositions. Cuir is a new chapter in the series of reissues that saw the release of Magie, Climat, Sikkim, Sagamore, Mille et une roses and Tropiques. Calice Becker, who also re-engineered Balmain’s Vent Vert, is responsible with Pauline Zanoni for adapting M. Petitjean’s formula for contemporary noses…

This re-issue is particularly welcome as there are very few leather scents on the non-niche market, despite a slight revival (Armani Cuir Améthyste, Guerlain Cuir Beluga, Hermès Kelly Calèche (click for review). Of the classics, only Chanel Cuir de Russie has survived, if one discounts the leather chypres, which really belong to another category – leather should be one in itself. The cult classic Lanvin Scandale, composed by Arpège author André Fraysse and discontinued in 1971, would be the template, along with Chanel’s, by which any leather should be judged. The Lanvin, Chanel and Lancôme share many notes in common:

Lanvin Scandale: neroli, bergamot, mandarin, sage, Russian leather, iris, rose, ylang-ylang, incense, civet, oakmoss ,vanilla, vetiver, benzoin.

Chanel Cuir de Russie: aldehydes, orange blossom, bergamot, mandarin, clary sage; iris, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, vetiver; styrax, leather, amber, vanilla.

Lancôme Cuir: bergamot, mandarin, saffron, Jasmine, ylang-ylang, hawthorn, patchouli, Iris, birch, styrax.

The beautiful surprise of the new Cuir is its vintage feel. It may have been domesticated and toned down from the original – a necessity, given the current inaccessibility of many of the original ingredients – but it is still true, buttery, mouth-wateringly rich leather in the style of the much-regretted Lanvin Scandale.
Bergamot and mandarin give the top notes their typically Lancôme hesperidic feel, but within seconds a creamy surge of ylang-ylang lends a sweet butteriness to the blend, underscored by the slightly medicinal accents of saffron. Jasmine and hawthorn are also listed as notes, but they never stand out as soloists. The smoky birch and balsamic-tarry styrax quickly rise to the fore, underscored by a very discreet patchouli; iris cools off the base and lends its discreetly earthy tinge.
Despite sharing several notes with the Chanel, Lancôme Cuir doesn’t display its predecessor’s crisp, structured composition, lifted by Ernest Beaux’s trademark aldehydes. Cuir sinks almost immediately into a yielding, warm, almost edible caramel-tinged leather: it is like the liquid version of a time-smoothed lambskin glove, clutching a handful of exotic blossoms. A nod to contemporary tastes is given in an unlisted, caramelized note, which tends to place Lancôme Cuir in the families of gourmand scents in the drydown. At this stage, it evokes the sinuous sheath of sun-kissed skin…
Comparisons to Scandale(discontinued in 1971) are hard to draw because of the difference in concentration (eau de parfum vs. extrait) and conservation conditions, but Cuir would seem to lean more to the side of the Lanvin in its richness and animalic elegance.
One can only hope that Lanvin will follow suit and re-launch a fairly faithful adaptation of Scandale, though its recent Rumeur(click for review), lovely but much tamer than the original, doesn’t bode well…
But there can truly never be enough leather scents to this leather lover.



Special thanks to R., the generous member of the Perfume of Life forum who sent me a large sample of Cuir; as well as to Vidabo, who shared her precise and poetic analysis on the forum and helped me shape mine.

by Denyse Beaulieu, a.k.a. carmencanada

Pic on top from educationfrance5.fr