Vero Profumo Mito: new fragrance

“The warm air is pervaded by a pleasant sensation of white flowers, jasmine and newly blooming magnolias, garlands of moist moss, aromatic leaves and proud cypresses. Slowly the fragrance rises. Up, up, higher and higher still, to join, all of a sudden, the crystalline jets gushing in the fountains and resting on the mirrors of water in the garden. Millions of miniscule water particles intertwine to create a shining, perfumed veil that rests on the cold marble shoulders of countless statues: gods, nymphs, fauns, dragons and mermaids. Time has stood still in the garden: yesterday is today is tomorrow."


 This is how perfumer Vero Kern presents her newest fragrance (after the masterful Kiki, Onda and Rubj in extrait and in eau de parfum), Mito, a white floral with green, mossy and freshly spicy nuances. Mito is out for launch later in the year.

Illustration:   Sofo Berdzenishvili.

Scents that Sing Spring: Top 10 fragrances

There are scented beauties that make you feel ecstatically giddy, projecting happiness from the top of the lungs and filling our hearts with joy. Do they have to be silly too? Not necessarily, even though a little naïveté can be a good thing sometimes; especially when the gripe of the real world becomes too much. Ayala of Smelly Blog organised this latest blog-o-rama in which a fine team of bloggers (listed at the bottom) focuses on scents that put a spring in our step!

In my mind, autumn can be the season for melancholia and serious contemplation, winter needs some comfort injection and richer velours textures while in the summer a cool shot of something lifting the suffocating canopy of the heat is welcome respite, no matter what that is. But a true spring scent should have some unconscious ingenuousness, merely appearing simple and pretty at first sniff, but hiding beneath it a layer of texture that is not immediately attainable.
So my personal Top Spring Scents for this spring (fragrances I am wearing with much gusto and utter glee) are:

Amaranthine Penhaligon's (perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour)
Its name denotes the eternally beautiful and unfading. The perfume, just like the name, evokes a deep purple red, a "corrupted" floral oriental with plenty of "dirty" aspects (see below for another one) combining spiced (clovey) ylang-ylang and jasmine on a milky sandalwood and musky base. Fetish-phobics should better shy away, but those worth their salt in immersing themselves head-long into intimate scents (ooops!) will rejoice that the meadows and the flowers do not only smell of the sterile florist's or Alpine tops. As shocking ~coming from such an upper-stiff-lip British brand~ as discovering that our favourite nanny, Julie Andrews, has a va jay jay ~and a wee hole~ after all!

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia (perfumer Mathilde Laurent)
There is nothing more April-like than the smell of bitter orange trees in blossom, their waxy white petals infiltrating the glossy green of the leaves and some fruit still hanging from the branches, like a reminder of what has been already accomplished. Guerlain captured the ethereal vapors of steam of these delicate, ravishing blossoms and married them to a pre-emptying summery jasmine and the faint whiff of cool frankincense burning inside a Greek Orthodox church preparing for the country's most devout celebration: Easter. Flora Nerolia is like a snapshot of late Lent in Greece and for that reason is absolutely precious to me.

Paco Rabanne Calandre (perfumer Michel Hy)
I recently rediscovered this perfume of the 1970s to much delight. Calandre has a wonderful olfactory profile, as I had written in my full review: "citrusy, slightly sour top note which segues into both oily green hyacinth and a fresh (laundered, thanks to lily-of-the-valley) white rose, elements which peter out slowly into an undefinable vaguely herbal base with honey and light musk touches that is its own thing more than anything that morphs into the wearer" A quiet triumph and a most friendly, easy-going fragrance. (full review here)

L'artisan Parfumeur Jacinthe des Bois (perfumer Anne Flipo)
Jacinthe des Bois was introduced in 2000 as part of L'Artisan's Je T'ai Cueilli Une Fleur trio, which also included Verte Violette and Oeillet Sauvage, all soliflores composed by Anne Flipo (and I love them all). Sadly discontinued, Jacinthe des Bois takes the intoxicating aroma of forest hyacinths, raw and green, like a painting rendered via outrenoir. Like no northern spring has completely lost its thaw, it hides a small facet of lugubriousness that is the necessary part into more fully grasping the real joy of living.

YSL Paris (perfumer Sophia Grojsman for Yves Saint Laurent)
There's something utterly charming about the retro makeup feel of the combination of rose and violets and in Paris this feel is brought to an apotheosis. Paris has the gift ~and curse, if you overdo it~ to be perceptible at a distance, creating a halo that will make waiters swerve on their heels, small children drop their toys to hug you and men exclaiming you smell "clean and feminine". Simply put, a spring fragrance to lose your heart to. (full review here)

Annick Goutal Passion (perfumer Isabelle Doyen)
A typical old Goutal perfume oscillating between modern minimalism and multifaceted classicism, Passion starts with a heady caphoraceous blast of what can only be sensed as vibrant tropical florals snowballing a cadenza of sweet and green notes that unify; to the point where you don't know where the garden ends and the woman starts. The most startling use of ylang-ylang and a joyous romantic fragrance to boot! (full review here)

the little red train in the cobblestone streets of Plaka in Athens,Greece

Lily Bermuda Petals (unknown perfumer for Lily Bermuda)
Petals is feminine, no question about it, and although quite sweet, its tour de force isn't the sugar-tooth of bonbons, but the nectarous quality hiding in the heart of its white blossoms (orange blossom, jasmine, honeysuckle). Its appeal is like that of Natalie Wood at the time she was dating Warren Beatty: Makes you want to break out a prom-like 60s dress and sing in front of the mirror "I feel pretty, oh so pretty; I feel pretty and witty and gay!" , which is rather priceless in its way, won't you agree? (full review here)

Vero Profumo Rubj (perfumer Vero Kern for Vero Profumo)
Sounds odd, smells terrifically happy. The magic of orange blossom absolute in all its glory. Of all the scents in the Vero Profumo line, Rubj impressed me as being the brightest, the shiniest, the most shockingly beautiful in the Eau de Parfum version! Seriously, if you feel like there is a hole in your collection where the heart of a masterpiece fruity floral should beat, don't even think about it twice (full review here for the EDP and here for the parfum)

Ormonde Jayne Tiaré (perfumer Linda Pilkington for Ormonde Jayne)
Tiaré -contrary to expectations due to the name- is reminiscent of a friendlier, more glowing Cristalle by Chanel, which is always an excellent thing. In lieu of a bookish-secretary-in-a-sterile-office which limites its romance-wearing after-hours potential, somehow, someway Ormonde Jayne managed to bypass that and combine both worlds: the intellectual and the sensual, the upbeat and the romantic. A wonderful fragrance that makes you want to run about madly and do recklessly spontaneous things! (full review here)

Une Fleur de Cassie (perfumer Dominique Ropion for Éditions des Parfums Frédéric Malle)
It didn't take me a trip to fragrance capital, Grasse, to appreciate the exquisite technique displayed in highlighting every nook and crany of the mimosa/cassie essences, but it didn't do any harm either. Une Fleur de Cassie has the right amount of "dirty" gusset to hint at coarse carnality (mimosa and cassie absolutes are notoriously musky, jasmine absolute is indolic) while at the same time remaining a gorgeous floral (hints of carnation and rose absolute), smudging its odds and ends into almost an oriental (sandalwood, vanillic fond).

Please check the other participating blogs too:
Smelly Blog
Katie Puckrik Smells
The Non Blonde
I Smell Therefore I Am
Notes from the Ledge
Scent Hive
Savvy Thinker
Roxana's Illuminated Journal
Perfume in Progress
All I Am A Redhead
Ambre Gris
Olfactarama
A Rose Beyond the Thames

Picture of Julie Andrews at the mountaintops from The Sound of Music. Picture of Athens, Plaka region street with wisteria vines, via La Vie Bohemie.

Penhaligon's Amaranthine: fragrance review

I had included Amaranthine by Penhaligon's in my Top 10 Scents that Sing Spring for 2010 a while ago with the following words: "Its name denotes the eternally beautiful and unfading. The perfume, just like the name (from the Greek αμάραντος), evokes a deep purple red, a "corrupted" floral oriental with plenty of "dirty" aspects combining spiced (clovey) ylang-ylang and jasmine on a milky sandalwood and musky base. Fetish-phobics should better shy away, but those worth their salt in immersing themselves head-long into intimate scents (ooops!) will rejoice that the meadows and the flowers do not only smell of the sterile florist's or Alpine tops. As shocking ~coming from such an upper-stiff-lip British brand~ as discovering that our favourite nanny, Julie Andrews, has a va jay jay ~and a wee hole~ after all!"

So why am I back reviewing this? Probably because I have been pondering these past few weeks on how it came as an utter shock into the Miss Charm school of the Penhaligon's line-up, smiling like characters out of a Jane Austen novel with no success in hiding this Edna Pontellier amongst them! Like other outspoken feminine florals, like Passion or Grand Amour by Annick Goutal, DelRae's Amoureuse and Vero Profumo Rubj, this is a case of not being afraid to shout off the rooftops its deliciously carnal intent. An intent that is rendered like it's the most natural thing in the world!
Penhaligon’s website says “Amaranthine [part of the new Anthology series] is a corrupted floral oriental for those private moments when everything is anticipation” and by that line alone one would surmiss they're up to no good: Which they're not, in the best possible sense. Yet it was March at Perfume Posse who put the apocalyptical size of the shock value in proper terms: "Immediately and humorously nicknamed Amaranthigh by perfumistas, Amaranthine was a shot across the bow in terms of our expectations from staid Penhaligon’s. Bertrand Duchaufour’s bizarre, refulgent twist on a boudoir scent would have been about the last thing I expected from the house, and I wasn’t alone there".

Like a modern time Léonce, a callous patriach who is unshakable in his views, I was eternally stuck on how Penhaligon's as a fragrance house amounted to instant Victoriana with doilles put under the TV-set and little floral mats on the arm-rests of the couches, in a house that smelled of crushed lavender and butter-foiled scones for tea, always a little stale. Pretty as a picture and nostalgic possibly, but would I live there? No if I had any hopes of saving my jaw muscles from overexertion from the smile that would plague my face translating its ecumenical acceptance and patience.
I had only managed to be interested in Malabah, Hammam Bouquet and Castile from the house's classics previously and in Lily & Spice from the newer range; my itinerary (stopping at the outskirts of Coventry and never intending to go all the way up to Leeds) was cut short: The train was abtruptly stopped at junction "Eyes Glazing Over Victorian Posy" with a disastrous detour via "Bluebell" which had nothing to do with blue and plenty to do with Bells of Hell going ting-a-ling-a-ling.

Perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour has managed to shake this ~in hindsight~ passé notion and thrust it out of the window of that very same train. (Actually he also did a complete redecoration of that English cottage above, ushering a little French deco amidst all that plaid and floral. One can have too much of a picturtesque thing, after all). Amaranthine is travelling from station to station between fruity-ladden vines that sprout banana-bubblegum tones of quality jasmine (and lush ylang ylang) and a gently green but spicy blend of cardamom and coriander recalling not yet fully fermented tea aromatized the Middle Eastern way. And when it stops, it takes you to someplace where proper good buttery English toffee is still made (creamy sandalwood, warm musk, milky caramel tones), so not everything British is lost. Two beauties, one English, one French, are having a tryst. Simply spectacular!

Notes for Penhaligon's Amaranthine: green tea, freesia, banana leaf, coriander, cardamom, rose, carnation, clove, orange blossom, ylang ylang, Egyptian jasmine, musk, vanilla, sandalwood, condensed milk, tonka bean.

Availability and Limited editions on this link.

A special thanks to Joe for introducing me to this gem.

Photo of a nude Brigitte Bardot and an equally nude Jane Birkin via The Moly Doily blog. Claudya photo by Bettina Rheims from the Female Troubles Series

Perfumes the Guide by Turin and Sanchez: sneak preview and review

The perfume guide being written by odor guru Luca Turin with co-author and his newlywed Tania Sanchez was shrouded in mystery for some time. It has been 15 years since Turin had penned the original, now out-of-print Parfums, Le Guide in French. Since then the eruption of the Internet made English-reading audiences thirsty for his erudition, sporadically catered for through his NZZ Folio column and defunct blog. Finally this new guide is fast approaching. I received my copy in advance and I am in the position to tell you that it is a good read! Perfume Shrine is in fact the first perfume blog to post an actual review of the new Guide.

Although it claims to be “the definitive guide to the world of perfume”, I find that such a task is so monumental in its scope that it might as well be awarded the Everest-climbing seal of effort. It’s simply a Titan feat to accomplish! However, Perfumes the Guide impressed me as being a very pleasurable guide through the opacity of perfume shopping, low on the purple-o-Meter and more importantly one that does not require a former education on the subject while being scientifically elucidating.

How does the book "flow"?
Luca continues to write in his familiar vernacular (references to classical music and sports cars abound) that manages to be witty and caustic most of the time, even if one disagrees, with the admirable trait of laconic delivery. The latter should serve as a lesson to my anal-retentive habit of elaborating on any possible historical minutiae when writing myself.
Tania seems to have also benefited from her stint as editor-cum-muse, not having forgotten her Makeup Alley roots which she credits. Her writing is removed from previous exaggerations and is to the point, sometimes rivaling her prototype in acerbity and realism. They alternatively (identified by initials) take on almost 1500 fragrances -per the book jacket- circulating in department stores, drugstores and niche boutiques today. Something at every price point. The system is easy and relies on a 5 star point scale (from 1 for awful to 5 for masterpiece) ~which is to be expected in any product qualitatively measured these days. Wine appreciation guides as well as cinephile sites have contributed to this system becoming increasingly common. It will do.

The structure of the book is divided into uneven parts:

1. The brief introduction by TS focuses on how perfume is part of culture and criticism is inherent in any art form ~ergo in perfume as well, and everyone should get used to it
2. Essay on how to choose fragrances for oneself and for the occassion
3. Essay on why would men want to wear scent and categories of masculine fragrances with impromptu, fun names like "Lawrence of Arabia" for orientals
4. A brief introduction to the history of modern perfumes' emergence, which to LT is inextricably tied to the rise in synthetics. Somehow like a brick off his previous book but informative.
5. Some answers to frequently asked elementary questions, one of which is the perennial “skin chemistry” affecting fragrances (the short answer is "not really")
6. The reviews, which take the huge bulk of the book in easy to follow alphabetical order
7. A very brief glossary of terms
8. Top ten lists in the categories of: best feminines, best masculines, best cross-gender choices, best picks from floral, chypre and oriental families and the innovatively intelligent best quiet and best loud fragrances; as an epilogue an index by star-rating of all the fragrances reviewed.

What I enjoyed:

~The to-the-point monikers beside the perfumes, instead of general classifications which usually prove so pointless to the reader. Instead the two-word descriptors are uncunningly accurate most of the time. Those range from the merely descriptive (“rasberry vanilla” for Armani Diamonds) to the outright dismissive (“nasty floral” for Bright Crystal by Versace or “fruity death” for Nanette Lepore), through the poetically inclined (“angry rose” for Malle’s Une Rose or “snowy floral” for Pleasures) and the iconically untouchables (“reference vetiver” for Guerlain’s).
I had much fun with the “not X” and “not Y” descriptors besides perfumes which are actually named X or Y something. It is so true, it’s hilarious! It’s refreshing to see that Lauder's Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia gets the “true gardenia” descriptor, because hey, it does smell like it and making it into the best florals category.

~That no perfume is spared based on its former laurels. This is a personal pet peeve of mine, I admit, when reading perfume criticism online; especially on perfume blogs and fora. Too often the illustrious reputation and history of a fragrance earn it a state of grace that is completely undeserved in its present formulation. To their credit, LT and TS dismember each and every one of those old beauties and see just how successful the facelift was: Are there any visible scars? Forehead immovable? Eyes not going beyond the perpetually surprised? Oh, it’s breathing and smiling again, there’s a dear! Or is it terminally confined to Joan-Rivers-land? It’s a great misfortune that the majority belongs to the latter category. Caron fans are in for a bumby landing!

~That two indie perfumers (and people who are trully sweet) received accolades for their work in this tome: Andy Tauer, mainly for his superb L’air du desert marocain (which earned the masterpiece 5-star award, with honorable mentions for Le Maroc, Rêverie and Lonestar Memories). And Vero Kern whose Onda, Kiki and Rubj received each 4 stars. For someone who is mentioned as coming initially from aromatherapy (a no-no obviously in LT’s books), this is not just high praise, it’s being toured round Zeus for the first time ever. Bravo Vero!

~That Luca Turin has relaxed his stance against perfumes that use only natural essences and included creations by Dominique Dubrana, who will be featured on these pages soon. A small step for one man; a huge step for a whole artistic movement.

What I did not like as much:

~The impression that fragrances created by friend perfumers are seemingly described in more raptured tones. The fact that some of those perfumers are actually mentioned as friends leaves a little bit of hesitancy to the reader in ingesting the opinion proferred. Not that I doubt the best possible intentions, mind you.

~The idolatry surrounding most of Sophia Grojsman’s scents down to 100% Love (formely known as the artwork named S-Love). Do I read her referred to as trismegista? I can’t explain why. I trust it does not fall under the previous category. The comparable disparagement of Jean Claude Ellena’s and Olivia Giacobetti's aesthetic with sporadic exceptions.
Celebrity deathmatch indeed of two diametrically antithetical worlds.

~In fact there is a tendency of formed opinion regarding brands more than individual perfumes (By Killian is "good" while Le Labo is "bad", although to me they seem to be equally poseurs). I might attribute that to opinion on the concept of a line, however.

~The glossary provided is very poor in a guide that purpots to be “the definitive” one. Perhaps they meant it as a help through the lingo used throughout the reviews. For the perfume enthusiast it is formulaic and not offering anything new.


In essence (pun intended), Perfumes The Guide is not going the exposé route that Chandler Burr did with his The Perfect Scent and therefore perfume lovers will not find out as many revelations either, but it is an absorbing, very entertaining read that will be referenced from now on on every possible online venue. Rookies especially will have a field day with the latter activity (bound to grate on the nerves of the rest of us). More seasoned perfumephiles can disagree from time to time... Oh and Luca, please drop the Keen fishing sandals over socks.

Perfumes the Guide is officially coming out on April 10. You can preorder it clicking Perfumes: The Guide

Pic of book jacket courtesy of Amazon, pic of LT and TS courtesy of the perfume pilgrim. Pic from the Terry Gilliam 1985 film Brazil courtesy of filmforum.org