Grossmith Hasu-no Hana, Shem-el-Nessim, Phul-Nana: fragrance reviews

It seems that the end of the year lately presents me with one stellar specimen of orgasmic olfactory experience: Two Decembers ago I was immersed in Leathers researching for my Leather Series and completely taken with Chanel's Cuir de Russie in extrait de parfum (fortunately, an obsession that doesn't seem to subside). Last year it was the verdantly lush Manoumalia by Sandrine Videault and Les Nez which turned the world on its head. This year I was taken with Tiare by Ormonde Jayne, the Scottish, bracing northern skies that shine their brightest in this intellectual yet also sensual, upbeat but also romantic scent. The common denominator in all three has been excaptional materials to begin with, seamless artistry in execution ~making the result seem effortless~ and the admirable trait of being at once original and echoeing familiar tunes from a distance.

But what an embarrassment of riches: Grossmith, the old English house revived by Simon Brooke, knocked on my door and I opened to see the most delicious, the most gorgeous fragrances imaginable truly classical in feel and redolent of the nostalgia of another time, overseen by Roja Dove, and fulfilling all above criteria into assigning them the best surprise of the year! So after a perusal of the history of the Grossmith house in part 1, Perfume Shrine tackles the Grossmith fragrances themselves with reviews for each one of them.


Hasu-no-Hana ~ “The scent of the Japanese Lotus Lily". "The exquisite daintiness and charm of the choisest flowers of Japan are embodied in this delightful perfume" which originated from 1888, a time in which the pioneering spirit of modern perfumery was accountable for giant leaps in the technology of scents; a year later Guerlain would issue Jicky, the world's first "modern" fragrance. The feeling of the re-issued Hasu-no-Hana is radiant, light and floral with a cool atmosphere and a very natural feel to it (a common trait in all the Grossmith re-issues; the brief must have been draconian on excellence of raw materials and Robertet -who are behind its creation- are not stingy with the precious naturals). Putting it on skin one is met with the bright, optimistic feeling of clawing one's nails on vividly hued hesperidia, the essential oils dripping down one's hands, such is the life-like effect. The floral heart with a murmur of chypre tonality isn't composed of lotus lily, rather giving the impression of one via the synergy of smooth rose, dewy jasmine and fleshy fruity ylang-ylang (and is there a soupcon of carnation too? Or clove?, i.e. eugenol in either case?); intense players stringed ever so finely. The longer the scent stays on skin the more it accumulates a very sensual, dry, almost powdery ~yet not quite~ orris-rich and woody-almondy base anchored by musks which persists delightfully. If I had to dress Hasu-no-Hana I would choose the choisiest silk kimonos in shades of ivory and dusty salmon.
Notes for Grossmith Hasu-no-Hana include bergamot, bitter orange, rose, jasmine, ylang ylang, iris, patchouli, oakmoss, vetiver, cedar, sandalwood and tonka bean.


Phul-Nana ~ “Hindi for ‘lovely flower’ takes on a more herbal/aromatic character, while still sweet floral and with a warm, cuddly base. The original came from 1891 accompanied with images of Indian princesses well ahead of Shalimar and its own abode of love. "From the Orient's wealth of fragrance the sweetest of all was captured and named Phul-Nana. It is wonderfully lasting and refreshing". The combination of hesperidic notes (rich bergamot, orange and the lightness of the neroli extract from bitter orange blossoms) allied to a rich, lush heart of intense white flowers (the decadent tuberose, the intensely heady jasmine-y bouquet as well as the rosiness that is aided to unfurl endless by the addition of patchouli leaves) leaves me with renewed admiration for the use of precious naturals: Anyone who has experienced the essences first hand can see how the thing is living, breathing and sighing its bosom like a woman in love. The milky base (woody and vanillic with equal lashings of resinous dryness thanks to the opoponax) is indeed a nod to the oriental genre as defined by Shalimar and people who love the latter will find a drydown to swoon over.
Notes for Grossmith Phul-Nana include bergamot, orange, neroli, geranium, tuberose, ylang ylang, patchouli, benzoin, cedar, sandalwood, opoponax, tonka bean and vanilla.

Shem-el-Nessim ~ “Arabic for ’smelling the breeze’, is perhaps my top pick, if I someone pointed a gun on my head urging me to choose only one among the excellent specimens in the re-issued trio. Rarely has a scent captivated me as instantly as Shem-el-Nessim did, reprising a well-rounded tune, that of literally earthbound orris (alas down-marketed in several mainstream releases these past two years) and exalting it to the heavens above via the use of a little lilac overtone and greenery. The original Shem-el-Nessim came out in 1906, signifying the fêted femininity of the Edwardian era, a nod to Europe's emerging love with anything oriental that would culminate in the Art Deco period. Named after an Arabian Springtime festival held in Egypt on the Nile, it was advertised with dark-haired sexy lovelies in salwar kameez, hair in a turban and the seven veils of Salome dropping one by one in our fertile imagination. The rebirth is a reworking of the floriental genre à la L'origan allegedly, or the triumph of the impressionistic suspension of time in L'Heure Bleue in my opinion~one could argue without blushing that it is the loveliest rendition of heliotrope and iris to be launched in the last decade! A clearly pyramidal composition, it dazzles with its economy of structure and the delight of its affluent feel, like a mink wrap in winter. The overture has all instruments murmur a soft muted tune signifying phase one (soft greenery, florals) . Then the aria of marzipan-like heliotrope emerges in all its glory, the leitmotif comes again and again for hours: luxurious, warm, inviting, powdery. The whole melts into an unctuous coda of orientalised elements in the base, almost ambery: sandalwood, musk and vanilla, amplifying the plush to the point of apotheosis. I am smitten!!
Notes for Grossmith Shem-el-Nessim feature bergamot, neroli, geranium, jasmine, rose, ylang ylang, orris, musk, patchouli, cedar, sandalwood, heliotrope and vanilla.

Grossmith fragrances are now available through Roja Dove Haute Parfumerie, Fortnum & Mason (who also carried the classic line!) and at Les Senteurs (Belgravia, London), all in the UK. Plans for expanding abroad are carefully being considered for the future. Grossmith Phul-Nana, Shem-el-Nessim and Hasu-no-Hana are available in 50 or 100 ml Eau de Parfum (£95-185 respectively, with the option of a coffret of all three in 50 ml for £310), also in 10ml or 100 ml Parfum (£110-425 respectively, a coffret of all 3 scents in 10 ml is £365), or in the 85 ml Parfum in the limited edition Baccarat bottle etched in pure gold for £5750.

Click on the pics to enlarge them.
Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Grossmith: the history

In the interests of full disclosure I was sent a trio of sample vials by the manufacturer.

Musk Series 3: The Many Permutations of Musk

In all of perfume speak, "musk" and "musky" has got to be the most casually utilized term, often taking on hidden nuances inadvertedly to the speaker, based on their own perception of the odoriferous molecules creating the impression. We had touched upon this issue while discussing the cultural perception of musk (Musk Series Part 1), peppered with anecdotes. We had also tried to shed some light into the differences between the natural essence (produced from the deer Moschus moschiferous L.) and the vast array of synthetic musks in the industry today on this article (Musk Series Part 2).

In the words of Philip Kraft “the more one studies [musk] the more contrasting, vibrant and oscillating it becomes: repulsive–attractive, chemical–warm, sweaty–balmy, acrid–waxy, earthy–powdery, fatty–chocolate-like, pungent–leathery, resinous–spicy, fig-like, dry, nutty and woody, to give just some impressions” [1]. Still, beyond our interpretation (surely a personal matter) and the more clandestine issue of which ingredients are actually utilized in any given perfume, anyone immersing themselves into the fascinating subject of musks stumbles on another obstacle: What about the denominations that the companies and online boutiques give to their musks and musk notes themselves? What is "white musk", "black musk", "Egyptian musk" and so on and on to infinity? Let's try to find out in this guide.

White musk
The easiest to tackle, because of its ubiquity. You have probably seen the term in single-standing fragrances at the drugstore, such as the famous Jovan White Musk, and you have probably seen it in relation to the continuing success of The Body Shop's White Musk. The latter is comprised of the synthetic musks Galaxolide (7,7%), Tonalide (1,6%) a little Cashmeran (0,1%) for a total of 9.4% of white musks. Galaxolide (an International Fragrances & Flavours synthetic molecule with staggering popularity in the industry in both fine fragrance and functional products) gives a a clean, but also musky flowery-woody odour with a sweet, powdery nuance: You're probably well familiar with it through fabric softeners such as Comfort and Soflan and through detergents like Coral. White musk in perfumery therefore has become synonymous with a "clean", soapy and somewhat biting impression, with a passing floral tonality. Globalide (another musk synthetic, also called Habanolide) is often used in white musk compositions: A metallic smelling, fresh radiant musk which opens up the bouquet. Indeed its coupling with Helvetolide in Emporio Armani White For Her, by Alberto Morillas in 2001, gave rise to the term "white musk" as official perfume lingo beyond the brand names of yore ~its olfactory profile opposed to the balmy darkness of the prior nitromusks. The same synthetic (Globalide) enters the aldehydic musk Glow by Jennifer Lopez, accenting the fresh white floral components of the formula, while it also gives the cooly herbal-soapy feel of Mugler's Cologne and the baby-soft"clean" of Clair de Musc by Serge Lutens. It also outlives the blackberry top notes of the popular Trish McEvoy #9 Blackberry Musk.

Egyptian Musk
Even though the adjective might make you think that these musks come in their own little sarcophagi chanting in an unknown language, the reality is far removed from such exoticism. Simply put, Egyptian musk does not originate in Egypt, but is simply a variant of a musk blend in which the clean, scrubbed-skin nuance is the dominant part. The laundry day feel is there, much like with white musk (see above) but in general the effect is less screetchy and subtler to detect. Famous examples in use include the perennial Narciso For Her, where the fractialised patchouli (keeping the cleaner aspects) and the synthetic white flowers are highlighted by the clean muskiness of the base and smoothed out by a recent amber molecule, Amberlyn and a hint of honey. The Cuban born designer was inspired by an Egyptian musk oil he used to buy in New York City along his friend and muse Caroline Bessette-Kennedy. (It turns out it was Abdul Kareem's Egyptian Musk). The Egyptian musk part is easier to detect it if you test the Musk For Her by Narciso Rodriguez in the same line of fragrances (for a breakdown of the confusing concentrations of the line, please refer to this guide). There, Egyptian Musk stands almost solely on its own. They have recently updated the line with specific Musk editions.
The combination with "clean" patchouli seems to be an approved shortcut for this variant. Reading through this recipe for homemade Egyptian Musk, you come across the mention of patchouli leaves and rose petals entering the composition in a vegetal-base oil.
Several indie perfumers such as Ava Luxe, Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, Sonoma Scent Studio, as well as etailers (the likes of Nemat, Sweetcakes, Utopia Oils et al) make Egyptian musk fragrances. Its popularity has to do with its sheer subtlety, it would never offend a scent-phobic environment and it is pleasant to have around when you don't feel like perfume. The popular Egyptian Goddess oil from Auric Blends is a good example of a plain, unadulterated Egyptian musk with no other tonalities included: it smells a lot like fabric softener! You might also encounter this as "Pearl Musk" such as chez Ava Luxe, who offers both this and an Egyptian Musk version.

African Musk
Despite the "wild" evoking name, African musks usually are variations on the theme of Egyptian musk, soft, clean, inoffensive with an inclusion of sweet vanilla which makes them even cuddlier.

Red Musk
A chromatic variation in the name which was inspired by the "white" adjective, it bears an incense note reminiscent of the Eastern temples. Several etailers provide "red musks".

Black Musk
Similar concept with red musk, but this time with a woody, somewhat dirtier background, although not exactly animalic.

Blue Musk
Another variation poised on colour colding, this is close to white musks, with perhaps a sweeter musky nuance, a little softer and close to African Musk. If a manufacturer makes both Blue Musk and African Musk, it would be advised to try out before investing in both.

China Musk
Inspired by Body Time's China Rain, China musk types usually feature a distinct aldehydic and green top which brings on a refreshing feeling. Halfway between the metallic feel of white musks and the suaveness of Egyptian musks, China musks are saturated with light and are very pleasant. Ava Luxe makes an exceptional speciment termed China Musk.

Oriental Musk
A slight tweek on the China Musk idea (see above). Usually brought by jasmine inclusions and powdery background. Ava Luxe has one in her line.

Tunisian Musk
Generally the term refers to a sweet variation on the clean Egyptian theme (see above). Some manufacturers offer both Egyptian and Tunisian versions, so there is a slight twist in there. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz as well as TheParfumerie.com offer their versions.

Turkish Musk
Inspired by the traditions of tea and exotic leathers brought through the Silk Road to Constantinople, perfumers have come up with a musk blend that uses tarry topnotes to denote black tea and leathery nuances. Drier than the African-termed musks and with a little bit of sophistication, while still a wearable musk for layering or wearing alone. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz has a nice offering in this category.

Tibetan or Himalyan Musk
A variation seemingly close to the real Tonkin musk tincture but in reality not even close. These are warmer, sweetish interpretations presented by etailers and street vendors which can be very pleasant and inviting with good lasting power and hushed tonalities. Nemat makes a lovely Himalayan Musk oil which is supreme for wearing alone or layering purposes under other fragrances or oils to make them warmer and softer.

Nude Musk
I took the term used by Ava Luxe's fragrance to denote this category which also includes Perfect Veil by Creative Scentualisation and Sonoma Scent Studio Opal (for a comparison review of all three, click here) just because it's so erotically charged. This is a category which is meant to smell like "your skin but better", obviously a very popular demand and considered quite sexy (the skin-on-skin concept). It takes a lightly citrusy top (bergamot) and rounds it out through sandalwood and other creamy notes, blending into the skin where it smells as if you rolled into bed after a shower: That would be the scent you'd leave on the sheets. Suggestive, I know...The permutation with sandalwood was famously introduced in the 1970s with Bonne Belle's Skin Musk, Sarah Jessica Parker's longtime standby (this is now made with a slight reorchestration by Parfums du Coeur).

Wild Card musks (or anything goes...)
Some of the musks which you will encounter in your galivanting among fragrance lines are imaginatively named with poetic overtones leaving you wondering what they entail. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz has a whole array of unusual musks. Among them she makes a terrific animalic musk called Almadina Musk, which although reminiscent of the Arabian Al Madina, is in fact a leathery (lots of castoreum) and green marvel which projects with swagger and is highly recommended as a stand-alone fragrance. The Body Shop has a similar case of a musk which is not really musky: Japanese Musk is really a chypre in the manner of powdery chypres of old (see Ma Griffe); starched, cool, delightful and wonderful on a handkerchief tucked inside a purse.
DSH Special Formula X is a skin-friendly and erotic perfume that evokes boyish musks of yore, presented in the plain and longer lasting Extreme version. Dawn's Old School Musk is reminiscent of the 70s specimens specifically, such as Kiehl's as well as Houbigant's and Dana's, slightly greener and animalic. The touch of ambergris at the base makes it a bit like salt-water dipped skin.
The Fragrance Shop boasts an Almadina Musk too which they describe as "a spicy bitter musk with animalic undertones". Coty on the other hand makes the wonderful old barber-shop evocative Wild Musk which has a fougere overlay over the musky base. A retro fragrance with warm, inviting and lightly masculine accents, superb! Sonoma Scent Studio makes a spicy musk, called Sienna Musk, which is truly wonderful. (for a full review, please refer to this link)

Although mentioned in passing above, some etailers such as The Perfumerie.com feature lots of ethnically named musks, such Nigerian Musk (green-ish and named as a variant of Egyptian obviously; same with Tunisian, Indian etc). Generally they indicate what kind of "blend" they fit into, but trying out is always recommended first. As with everything...

The Musk Series will continue with lots of other interesting info and reviews.

[1] Kraft, Philip. “Aroma Chemicals IV: Musks” in Chemistry and Technology of Flavors and Fragrances, ed. by David Rowe. Blackwell Publishing, UK, 2004
Photograph of Lisa Lion by Robert Mapplethorpe. Perfume pics via parfum de pub

Guerlain The Voyage Collection: Moscow, Tokyo, New York

In an idle mood last summer we had played the guess game on some new releases from Guerlain. It seems that fact corroborates our suspicions and the company has caught a genuine case of the Travel Bug. (It's become a luxury market standard to issue a cruise collection of scents; enter the latest Escale à Pondichery from Christian Dior which we reviewed here). In short Guerlain are issuing a Voyage Collection, inspired by three major (and vastly different) landmarks: Moscow, Tokyo and New York, all in relation to Paris, exactly as we had predicted. After all there was already a Météorites Voyage powder, so the recycling of names is expected. (Come to think of it, wasn't Chanel's collection from last winter called Paris Moscou?)
Please observe how Thierry Wasser, head perfumer, is nowhere to be mentioned yet again and how the retired Jean Paul Guerlain is brought back into the scene to add gravitas and a sense of tradition to the project. As to the ad copy, have they been reading our Travel Memoirs? It seems our original idea has already found imitators... But kudos on not falling back on the pseudo-erotic tales of the previous trio of Elixirs Charnels/Carnal Elixirs.
{Oh and I would have loved to see the plural of metropolis (μητρόπολις) as metropoleis (μητροπόλεις), instead of the anglisized metropolises, but Ι realise I'm overanalysing}.

"At Guerlain, it is a tradition. Crossing borders. Encountering new places. Discovering unfamiliar, exotic essences. Capturing the soul of a place by uncovering the emotional enchantment of its raw elements. In 1828, pioneer and visionary Pierre-François-Pascal Guerlain already understood the importance of travelling the world in search of new fragrance sensations. More than just innovative scents, he offered an escape, a voyage for the senses.
“A perfumer must go looking for scents,” observes Jean-Paul Guerlain. And today, in the grand Guerlain tradition of exploring the world's riches, he has created a travel diary of scents, three new fragrances that pay homage to three fascinating cities: Moscow, NewYork and Tokyo.
Paris-Moscow, Paris-NewYork, Paris-Tokyo.
Three evocative fragrances that convey the identity and the heartbeat of these electrifying metropolises.Three liquid memories, presented in bottles embellished with drawings by sculptor Serge Mansau and topped with metal caps embossed with the emblematic double G. For each bottle, graphic artist Carla Talopp has devised a log, a scrapbook of cards, images, drawings, iconicphotos and symbols of the spirit of each city.

Moscow has awakened. Sleeping Beauty has opened her eyes, and her heart is fluttering. Moscow the serious has reinvented itself as Moscow the prosperous. Here and there, a hammer and sickle engraved on a building façade remind passers-by of its recent, restless history. But today, a fresh chapter is beginning. Each month, almost every day, Moscow's inhabitants write a new paragraph. They celebrate the arrival of a luxury boutique or a lavish restaurant. Women vie with one another in elegance. Businessmen bustle about. All of them are part of the metamorphosis of a capital city that proudly displays its new modernity.

With its musk, fruit and wood notes, the ultra-feminine Paris-Moscow perfume echoes the heartbeat that pounds through the Russian capital. This city throbs with life! Strolling through the opulent shopping arcades of the GUM, you are intoxicated by the heady fragrance of white musk and tonka bean. A carnal, sensual and elegant trace of vanilla and bergamot stays with you as you cross the Red Square. As you pass the Bosco Café, a sudden aroma of red currants delights your senses. The Moscow locals are enjoying their brunch, sipping their favourite beverage. Your senses stirred, you head off for some refreshment at the Botanical Gardens. A welcome respite. You close your eyes and watch as images from the day parade past. Electrified, you take in the hint of absinthe, a sparkling lemon, a note of plum. In the distance, you glimpse a verdant forest of pine needles. You can still hear the heart of Moscow beating.

*Notes for Paris Moscow: lemon, plum, pine needles, absinthe, red currants, white musk, tonka bean.

New York, New York! How many films, books and lyrics have sung the praises of the city where anything is possible? A land of dreams and pioneers, the Big Apple welcomes your deepest desires and craziest ambitions. This remarkable city boasts countless styles and atmospheres. A melting pot of communities and personalities, it evokes greatness with its skyscrapers, broad avenues and financial centre.At the same time, it cherishes its 'villages': Little Italy, Chinatown, the West Village with its tree-lined streets, low-built houses and tiny restaurants crowded with regulars. Day and night, New York is always bustling. Here, a young woman arrives at the gym as the clock strikes midnight.There, a man and his dog share dinner by the first light of dawn. Only in NewYork…

A woody oriental fragrance, sparkling and sweet, Paris-New York excites the tastebuds by transporting the senses to the heart of Manhattan on Christmas Eve. From the elegant Uptown to bohemian Downtown, children are dreaming of their Christmas pudding.Their nostrils quiver. Smells of vanilla and cinnamon float out of kitchen windows. A joyful frenzy of holiday anticipation reigns on Broadway, whose lights seem to sparkle with a new radiance. A pause; serious Wall Street goes quiet. The pedestrians on 5th Avenue finish their last errands.The sky is still the luminous, cloudless blue of a New York winter. The celebrations will start in just a few hours. Already, the air is thick with a scent of cedar, cardamom and bergamot.

*Notes for Paris-New York: bergamot, cardamom, cinnamon, cedar, vanilla.

Some say that you must see Tokyo before you die.To them, the capital of the Land of the Rising Sun is a required destination. A ground to tread. An atmosphere to soak in. An experience to live, no matter what. Tokyo fascinates, Tokyo charms, Tokyo intrigues, Tokyo intimidates. Tokyo leaves no one untouched. The surprising, completely alien metropolis embodies ultimate modernity. Tokyo is a dense anthill, gradually stealing from the sea and sky what it can no longer find on the earth. The most daring architects eagerly orchestrate these extensions into space. The city is immense; it offers an invitation to lose yourself and discover its contrasting districts,smaller cities within a city, which fit together like the animated pieces of a giant puzzle.

Green and floral, fresh and delicate, Paris-Tokyo evokes all the subtlety of the Japanese capital. Willful, yet subtle. Ultra-modern, yet bound to its traditions. The sun is still low in the sky; it is the perfect time to awaken your senses in Hibiya Park, a rare green space designed with a Western aesthetic.Very few people are walking; you pass mainly joggers. As you stroll along a pond, the morning dew gives off a fragrance of jasmine and violet, intertwined with Hinoki cypress. You stop in a teahouse, slipping out of the stream of time into a cocoon of tranquillity in the midst of turmoil. In this world apart where green tea and jasmine scent the air, you allow yourself be transpor ted by the legendary, almost magical tea-drinking tradition. It is with regret that you leave the ceremony you wish could last forever. But Ginza, the Champs-Elysées of Tokyo, is already calling your name."

*Notes for Paris Tokyo: green tea, jasmine, violet, Hinoki cypess.

The Guerlain Voyage Collection will be widely available in June and the prices will be $220 for each of the bottles.

Related Reading on Perfumeshrine: the Guerlain series, Travel Memoirs.

Pics via russianblog.org, blog.aia.org, the designblog.org

Guet Apens/ Attrape Coeur and Vol de Nuit Evasion by Guerlain: fragrance review & comparison, with a footnote on Guerlain Ambre

Gustave Claudin writes about Marie duPlessis in Mes Souvenirs: “She was fickle, capricious, wild. She adored today what she hated yesterday. She possessed natural elegance to the utmost degree. One could certainly say she had style. No one could copy her originality. As long as florists were able to provide them, she always went out with a bouquet of white camellias”.


Marie Duplessis is none other than the inspiration for the character of Marguerite Gautier, famously known as “la dame aux camellias”. Her natural sensuality and maturity beyond her years are a logical fit for a perfume like Attrape Coeur, formely known as Guet Apens.


La belle de nuit aux violets that is Guet Apens was composed as a limited Christmas edition by nose Mathilde Laurent 10 years ago (1999) when Guerlain had its first inflow of funds from LVMH's initial investment. A slight retouche by Jean Paul Guerlain three years later resulted in another Limited edition called simply No.68 (not to be confused with the new Cologne du 68 ~for a complete breakdown of that entanglement please see my detailed article here)

Was the sobriquet non sonorous enough to English-speaking ears to keep it in production? The resinous, powdery, vanillic juice at the core of No.68 bore ties of consanguinity with both Guet Apens and Terracotta, you see.


Guet-Apens was finally renamed Attrape-Coeur and since 2005 has joined the ranks of the permanent collection of Guerlain to the rejoice of perfume lovers, reissued upon the occasion of the renovation of the flagship Guerlain store on the Champs-Elysées. Although the scent is usually credited to Jean Paul Guerlain (rumours want the then working on Guerlain project Insolence, perfumer Maurice Roucel to also having had a hand in it), the original scent was composed by Mathilde Laurent, the nose behind the controversial Pamplelune with its sulfureous grapefruit and Shalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar Light (the 2003 version) which was so fabulous. Tact prevents me from elaborating longer on the possible rupture, but suffice to say Mathilde Laurent is now composing scents at Cartier.


The phrase Attrape Coeurs means "heart-catcher" and it is lovely in its connotations, although it can have its adversaries too. Hearts are usually a corny matter, depicted in nauseating permutations as a symbol of romantic love. Guet Apens on the other hand means "ambush" in French, which makes for a much more intriguing name, but maybe that is just my opinion. For Attrape Coeur I think of a seducer, a woman who is out to get men entrapped in her tentacles, but all that done in a most elegant and non calculating, non vulgar way

In a way it goes way back to another era. It evokes the real Marguerite Gautier, famously known as “la dame aux camellias” and her influence on French society, both as the heroine of the novel by Alexandre Dumas fils and as a representation of the Parisian courtesans of the 19th century. Modeled after a real person, Marie duPlessis (real name Alphonsine), lover of Listz at one point and of Dumas naturally, dead at only 23 years of age due to consumption but having made her reputation already, Marguerite is a very alluring personality. With her pale complexion due to tuberculosis and her manners of a grande dame she captures the attention of the Parisian high society. Camellia of course in not featured in Attrape Coeur (it has no significant scent anyway), rather dark violet is, which is very apt taking in mind that Violetta is the name of the heroine in the opera version of the novel La Traviata (which literally means "woman who strayed") by Guiseppe Verdi and numerous theatrical versions, hence the association.
In the enchanting and nostalgic Langage des fleurs, a book by Charlotte de la Tour, violet stands for secret love. Violets then with a little underscoring of woods and iris form the core of the perfume.

Identifying Attrape Coeur as a Guerlain happens after it sheds its veils like Salome one by one. The opening of Attrape Coeur is as if iris got suspended in a snowy mirage, fresh, tingling, hazy, reflecting light in all directions, not unlike the charming disposition the demure Apres L'Ondee coyly reveals. A little fuzzy, fruity tone (reprised in MDCI Promesse de l'Aube and Chinatown by Bond no.9) smiles with the beatific smile of golden mosaics in Roman villas. The glycaemic nuance of violets, undescored by a mysterious greeness, a fleeting earthiness, is winking in a jar on the countertop of a French patisserie in Toulouse. And all is poised over an animal's warm, vibrating belly as it luxuriates in front of a blazzing fire.
Even jasmine makes a brief appearance, but then I regrettably lose it: it’s a lovely jasmine note like that in another Guerlain, Flora Nerolia: it remains fresh, green and dewy. Compared to other offerings from Guerlain the base is somehow between Shalimar and L’instant : not as animalic as the former, not as sweet and –dare I say it?- cloying as the latter, it combines the element of eathereal iris and sandalwood in order to give stability and powdery dryness that is much needed to bring balance to compositions based on sweeter elements. The creaminess and luxurious, plush feeling of Attrape Coeur remind me of the opulence of Bois des Iles by Chanel; but whereas the latter focuses more on gingerbread-like milky sandalwood, the former is anchored in powdery, warm amber. It's that alloy that gives the tone, with a little vanilla, tonka and perhaps civet (which I was not aware of particularly, meaning it is restrained), so characteristic of Guerlain perfumes. Attrape Coeur is formally classified as a "fruity chypre rose animalic" (although to me the rose is safely tucked in there) and gives me the feeling that were Parure composed with peach and violets instead of plum and lilacs it would be quite close in feeling.

Attrape Coeur has a lingering, creamy aura of ambery woods which makes it very popular with people enamored with comforting scents, blooming on the skin and lasting on my wrists the span of a whole day going on well into the night. This is especially satisfying rising from a plunging decolleté as it is such a wonderful perfume and a nice surprise at this time of fleeting perfumes that make us apply over and over again.

To add to the confusion ~noting the additional "s" in the name which appears by mistake in "Perfumes, the Guide"~ let me mention in passing that a special Bacarrat edition of L de Lolita Lempicka in extrait de parfum with golden netting and blue topaz is also nicknamed L'Attrape Coeur and that L'Attrape-cœurs is the French title under which the novel by J. D. Salinger more widely known as Catcher in the Rye circulates under. Talk about picking a popular name!

On the other hand, Guerlain themselves, further the confusion. Vol de Nuit Évasion , introduced in 2007, is despite the name a completely different fragrance than the classic oriental Vol de Nuit from 1933. The Guerlain tagline presents it as "a nomadic homage to a classic scent". But actually it is simply the Eau de Toilette concentration of Attrape Coeur !(This was confirmed, apart from my own nose, by official Guerlain representatives later on). Yet it is circulating only at duty-free stores in France at train stations and airports (contrary to Osmoz's quote linked); clearly aimed at the travel-retail market which is experiencing a resurgence. Considering it's 1/3 of the price of the exclusive Attrape Coeur, it's a great bargain and not to be missed if you get a chance.
The bottle is following the classic emblematic design of Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue with the upside-down heart stopper (slightly vandalised in the upcoming La Petite Robe Noire) but with the "circle" design of the name which appears almost cinematically-styled on the Sous le Vent flacon now. A lower concentration means Vol de Nuit Évasion whispers in hushed tones whereas Attrape Coeur would sing like a dramatic soprano (which is indeed the direction in which La Traviata's Violetta is taking). It's a good middle ground.


Notes for Guet Apens/ Attrape Coeur by Guerlain:
Rose, violet, iris, vanilla, woods, amber.
And a different set of notes I found:
Top: rose, jasmine, tuberose
Heart: peach
Base: amber, musk

Notes for Vol de Nuit Evasion by Guerlain:
peach, rose, jasmine, iris, amber, precious woods, vanilla

Shopping:
Attrape Coeur is now part of Les Parisiennes line in Eau de Parfum concentrations, resting inside the big "bee" embossed 125ml bottles with the boule stopper; exclusive to Guerlain boutiques.
Vol de Nuit Evasion comes in 50ml/1.7oz bottles of Eau de Toilette, exclusively available (at the moment at least) in duty-free chains in France.
Guet Apens in the lantern-style bottle makes sporadic appearences on Ebay.

And a little footnote on Guerlain Ambre: Notice this is the bottle lantern design used in Guet Apens! And as to how Guerlain Ambre smells, I will leave you to perfume historian Octavian Coifan:

"Ambre (1890) is said to be the first perfume of Jacques Guerlain. It is a very delicate and refined perfume based on the smell of ambergris tincture. It is not a sweet perfume (the ambre 83 type) but dry and deep. It has incense rezinoid, woody notes, labdanum, some balsamic notes (benjoin), orris. It is profound and dusty as the church wood or the very old books. A simple perfume that evokes a ray of light in an abandoned sanctuary."

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Violets, Guerlain series

Pic of Guet Apens, No.68 and Vol de Nuit Evasion by Fiordiligi (copyrighted), authorised for use on Perfume Shrine; of Attrape Coeur bee bottle shot by eowjdula/mua, of Guerlain Ambre via ebay. Artwork by Rafael Olbinski via allposters.com.

Guerlain L'Abeille: Bee transformed into a Luxurious New Fragrance

It's not just for Christmas that Guerlain had sculptress Géraldine Gonzales decorate their windows with crystal bees dangling and swaying from gold-plated trees in their Parisian boutiques this season. The bee, an iconic symbol for Guerlain, has a history that goes back to the 19th century: 1853 to be precise, with l’Eau de Cologne Impériale for the patrons of the Second Empire. Now it is becoming an extra luxurious, extra exclusive new fragrance as well! Rumour wants it to be called L'Abeille (although no official confirmation has been given this is the code-word to open Sesame so far), and to be a very tightly distributed parfum in the manner of Mon Précieux Nectar previously.

The price tag of 8000s Euros (!) certainly doesn't allow a stampede for its acquisition, especially in times of economic crisis, yet the luxury market hasn't really shown a budge; proving that those who collect these things always have a way to partake of the holy eaux! Expect to see this "bee-centered" L'Abeille fragrance issued in July/August 2010 in a flacon shaped like a bee, sculpted by a Place Vendôme designer and executed in Baccarat crystal. Insider info on the scent itself wants to be along floral arpeggios and very "sumptuous". The celebration of the bee in such a lavish manner unifies the Guerlain tradition: The famous "bee bottles" (flacons d'abeilles) are glass or gilded flacons with small Napoleonic bees on relief, wonderfully referencing French royalty and its history, bees being alongside the more traditional royal symbol, the eagle, the emblems of the First and later Second Empire. Guerlain has used them in their lineup of Eaux including some non-Eaux fragrances (Apres L'Ondee, Chant d'Arômes, Mouchoir de Monsieur), as well as Les Parisiennes more exclusive boutique line, while a more simplified version with plain glass and a golden overlay with a bee on the button spray is being used in the Aqua Allegoria line.
Edit to add: According to Octavian, notes include acacia, soft vanilla, floral honey, ylang-ylang and solar flowers.

Also, for those who missed it last season while talking with Madame Delacourte, the newest L'Art et La Matière fragrance by Guerlain is going to be Tonka Impériale with notes of tonka bean, amber, vanilla, rose, orange blossom and rosemary. A modern rendition yet à l'ancienne (style-wise) of one of the leading Guerlinade notes and perhaps a re-orchestration of some of the elements in Jicky. Olfactorum who sampled it describes it as "if Guerlain is an empire, then Tonka Impériale is one of its recent most beautiful adornments". We will return with a full review soon!

Related reading: The Symbolism of Bee & Honey Scents, Guerlain series (reviews & history of scents), Guerlain News , Upcoming releases


Thanks to Mr.G for some of the info. Pics of Guerlain boutique decoration with bees via Joyce.fr

Leather Series 6: Kinky whiffs

By guest writer Denyse Beaulieu

“The glove (…) had retained a strong odour, this distinctive musky odour which the girl’s favourite perfume, heliotrope, sweetened with a touch of vanilla; (…) violently aroused by this blend of flower and flesh, he was overcome, with the glove on his mouth, drinking in the voluptuous pleasure of his memories. (….) When he was alone, he would pick up the glove, breathe it in, kiss it, thinking he still held her in his arms, his mouth on the nape of her neck.”

In Émile Zola’s 1884 La Joie de vivre (« The Joy of Living »), the sweetly-scented glove that sheathed the hands of aristocrats has ceased to be a prophylactic adornment to become a fragment of the desired body; indeed, it seems to be desired in itself… J.K. Huysmans’ A Rebours, which dedicates a whole chapter to the art of perfumery as olfactory fetishism practiced by his decadent anti-hero Des Esseintes, would be published the same year. Within its visionary pages, perfumery wrenches itself free from the representation of nature to evoke man-made environments in unheard-of blends…

The leather note, of course, is one such artificial scent, a hybrid of “flower and flesh” created by industry. It is strangely redolent of the human skin which leather approaches, both by its texture and by its proximity to the body of the wearer whose shape it retains…
Can it possibly be a coincidence, then, that leather scents and leather fetishism are strictly contemporary, born in the same decade of the late 19th century?
Check the dates: quinolines, which lend their characteristic smoky-tarry notes to most leather perfumes, were synthesized around 1880. The first recorded Cuir de Russie was composed by Aimé Guerlain in 1875; Eugène Rimmel launched his the following year.

Now, it was precisely in 1876 that French psychiatrist Alfred Binet coined the term “fetishism”; the leather fetish itself is studied in Austrian sexologist Richard von Krafft-Ebing’s Psychopathia Sexualis (1886).
Fetishism in general and leather fetishism in particular had of course existed before they were identified as such: the prolific French libertine author Restif de la Bretonne (1734-1806), for instance, was a famous shoe sniffer. But it was only when the study of sexuality became the province of psychiatrists that an attempt to understand “perversions” gave rise to their classification. Up to then, people had sexual tastes; henceforth, they would have sexual identities.

Of course, scientists only reflected the changing perceptions and practices of Western societies. In a world where commodities were becoming increasingly available and diversified, the sex industry had followed suit by catering to “niche markets”. From 1867 to 1864, the first kinky magazine, the sedately entitled The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine, devoted its pages to the charms of corsets and high heels. Brothels offered specialized services, costumes and scenarios. In Sexual Selection in Man, British sexologist Havelock Ellis reports the case, in 1894, of a prostitute saying that “several of her clients desired the odor of new shoes in the room, and that she was accustomed to obtain the desired perfume by holding her shoes for a moment over the flame of a spirit lamp.”

Thus, leather entered the vocabulary of perfumery as a dominant note, rather than as a material to be treated by perfume, at the precise period in history in which “trickle-down perversions” – to reprise the term coined by French historian Alain Corbin – pervaded the very bourgeoisie to whom Messieurs Guerlain and Rimmel sold their Cuir de Russie. The name may have referred to the Cossacks who rubbed their boots with birch, and certainly bore a virile, military or equestrian connation. But the scents themselves alluded to more private passions.




Pic: by Félicien Rops, "Pornokratès" (1878), itself a scent-inspired painting:

“I did this in four days in a small blue satin room, in an overheated apartment, full of smells, where opoponax and cyclamen gave me a fever salutary for production and even reproduction.”

Courtesy Agoravox.fr

Denyse is the author of "Sex Game Book: a Cultural Dictionary of Sexuality" (Assouline, 2007)



Leather Series will continue, along with a couple of other exciting things besides...Stay tuned!

Guerlain Les Voyages Olfactives 05 Shanghai: new fragrance

Guerlain already boasts 4 fragrances in the boutique collection "Une ville, un parfum": the original three, Paris, Moscou, New York and 2011's entry London 04. This year sees a new launch in the city fragrances line, inspired by the vast Chinese culture (and with an eye on its untapped market, no doubt).

The new perfume, 5th in the Guerlain series "Les Voyages Olfactives" (Olfactory Journeys), is dedicated to Shanghai, a Chinese metropolis which was also the background on which the venerable Vetiver pour Elle sprang from (hence its duty-free original distribution).

Guerlain Shanghai is composed by in-house perfumer Thierry Wasser and is noted for its freshness and delicacy which are the hallmarks of the collection.

Guerlain Shanghai is a woody floral scent comprising fragrant notes of anise, orange blossom, almond, cardamom, ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, mimosa, cedarwood, patchouli, vanilla and sandalwood.

The bottle is designed by the legendary designer Serge Mansau depicting Shanghai's famous Oriental Pearl Radio & TV Tower.
The new Guerlain fragrance will be available in 100 ml in Eau de Parfum concentration.

Guerlain Shanghai is a woody floral scent comprising fragrant notes of anise, orange blossom, almond, cardamom, ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, mimosa, cedarwood, patchouli, vanilla and sandalwood. The bottle is designed by the legendary designer Serge Mansau depicting Shanghai's famous Oriental Pearl Radio & TV Tower. The new Guerlain will be available in 75 ml in Eau de Parfum concentration.

 info via mrguerlain with many thanks for his dedication

Dior Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle: fragrance review

Doing the Lutenesque visuals for Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle is not enough. Although purple hues and mysteriously shut eyelids with a sophisticated maquillage on them (by Tyen, no less) have a way of drawing a perfumista's attention, the juice has to be really original in a galaxy of flankers adorning Sephora shelves to equally capture devotion. And it's not circulating on American perfumery countertops, you say?


The original Hypnotic Poison by Annick Menardo, with its trippy bitter almond and caraway opening, managed to jolt sniffers into a "love or hate" mnemonic sense (much like all her other perfumes do too, like for instance Black by Bulgari or Lolita Lempicka by Lolita Lempicka). There's simply no way to be indifferent to it! Of course even within the same fragrance spectrum there are the ultraviolet and the infrared ends: The Eau de Parfum concentration of the original Hypnotic Poison is the former; intensely bitter and fluorescent at the beginning like underground dance clubs with "black lights" over you and with a pythonesque grip on its audience. While the Eau de Toilette shares the latter's nightime vision ability, permeating a place and its wearer in a warm incadescence; almost a homing device.
To take the light analogy on spot, Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle seems like long-wave infrared or "thermal imaging": a completely passive picture of the objects in question based on their own thermal emissions only, rather than any external light or thermal source. Basically, if you got it, it will not oppose it, but it can't "work for you" otherwise.

The latest Christian Dior flanker in the Poison series, Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle, is essentially a vanilla orchid floral fantasy composed by François Demachy, a more floral variation on the best-selling 1998 Hypnotic Poison minus the frightful originality.
Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle opens with the slightly medicinal facets of dominant ylang ylang, soon mollified by rosa Damascena with its feminine, velvet character, almost cancelling out the medicinal. Although tuberose is listed in the notes, the effect is nowhere near the strange, cubist renditions of tuberose soliflores of niche perfumery, instead boosting a faceless rendition rather than the sex beast on steroids. The vanillic-ambery facets (plus a hint of cumin) are played in favour of the previous woody notes which conspired to make the 1998 Hypnotic Poison the non-sweet, powdery gourmand it is. Eau Sensuelle feels more floral and more "acceptable" standard vanillic, the same way that No.5 Eau Premiere is a lighter, more vanillic but less musky version of the original Chanel No.5. Only Dior's does not have as silky an effect as the Chanel's.

Still, those who didn't really like Hypnotic Poison or just couldn't "tame the beast" (it's no coincidence it's advertised with a python encircling Bellucci's voluptuous body menacingly!), will find this essentially watered down version to their liking. And this probably explains the reasoning behind its concept by LVMH in the first place. Is it a bad fragrance, then? No, but it won't make it into the next 50 years like the original Hypnotic Poison will, most probably.

The bottle reprises the shape of Hypnotic Poison’s in deep-red, subtly translucent glass, topped with a cabochon cap that looks purple, red or mauve, depending on the light. Really great work. Be aware that the outer box is VERY similar to the original Hypnotic Poison with only the Eau Sensuelle in small typeface below the name: therefore attention is required when buying so as not to confuse the two!
Available from major department stores in Europe in 50ml/1.7oz, 100ml/3.4oz and 100ml/3.4oz spray deodorant.

Notes for Dior Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle:
Top: ylang ylang, rose, orange blossom
Heart: orchid, tuberose, green notes
Base: sandalwood, vanilla, woods, musk.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The differences between all the Dior Poison fragrances (the original 80s Poison, Tendre, Hypnotic, Pure, Midnight and their Elixir versions)

photos via sunshinereiki.ca, blog.hola.com, brusselsisburning

Roxana Illuminated Perfume Chocolate Fragrances Giveaway

I have been the recipient of a generous giveaway coffret offered by an all naturals perfumer who has appeared on these pages before. Namely Roxana Villa and her cute solids, this time perfectly timed for those who are too old for the Easter Bunny but who have something of the bunny in their heart of hearts. So, do read down, there's a generous giveaway of assorted solids from the collection below to be given to a lucky reader who leaves a comment!

Inspired by the South American seed of the Theobrama cacao tree, also known as The Food of the Gods, Roxana has created a series of Natural Solid Perfumes based on the love elixir Chocolate. Creamy, luxurious unguents in a botanical chocolate base made with Scharffen Berger 99% cacao, cocoa butter, organic cocoa powder and theobroma cacao extract from South America. The completely natural formulation also contains unfiltered beeswax, jojoba seed oil, infused vital plant materials and botanical fragrance accords. Embellished with the artists signature icon wax bee stamp each pot is contained in a gold foil cup within an adored box. A feast for all the senses awaiting to seduce and enchant. It's advisable to rub just a tiny bit and add more as you wish and they can be layered too!

The Chocolate collection includes:
Figure 1: Noir Like it's edible counterpart, this chocolate is deep, dark and mysterious with a strong musk note.
Figure 2: Cerise Succulent cherry weaved with a base of rich chocolate.
Figure 3: La Forêt A dense conifer forest meets an ocean of chocolate.
Figure 4: L'Orangerie Mouth watering citrus in a base of rich chocolate.
Figure 5: Bois de Chocolat Smokey woods and chocolate.
Figure 6: Épices Spice, a hint of vanilla and chocolate.
Figure 7: Pétales is rich with Rose, the Queen of fragrances.
Figure 8: Coeur de Jasmin Rich heart of jasmine enveloped by creamy chocolate.
Figure 9: Fleurs de Orange A buzz with orange blossom flowers, honey and chocolate. Figure 10: Blanc, opposite of Noir, is a a milk chocolate truffle, featuring the Vanilla Orchid Bean at center stage.
Figure 11: Chêne A tribute to the mighty Oak with notes of wood, resin, moss, and oud. The cacao note is more subdued.

I have tried 4 out of the collection and they're quite different from each other even if they share the chocolate theme. I guess I'm not helping you weed out the selection, am I? Typical of a fragrant omnivore...but I digress.
Figure 1 Noir is fabulous for those who want their chocolate patchouli-deep and appreciate the earthier blends in which some good old-fashioned patchouli is really amping up the sexiness, which is pretty much saying I love it! There is a citrusy top which really lifts the fragrance and compliments the patchouli. Figure 3 La Forêt has a pine-y scent to it, also a bit oak-ey, at a crossroads between summer and autumn, warm Mediterranean settings alongside more shady magical branches of the North. Figure 5 Bois de Chocolat is woody again, close to Figure 3, but a little less sunny in lieu of some smoked woods which gave me a more crepuscular impression. This could make a great masculine. Last but not least, Figure 11 Chêne is the less chocolate-y of them all, but curiously (curiously because I am a chocolate fiend, be warned) it's probably my most favourite thanks to its complex scent redolent of tannic notes & moss which shine through, evoking an oak forest or big oak barrels hiding rich red wine. Fans of her Q perfume should definitely try this version, as I think the bouquet of resins and oud in this are sublimated by the chocolate touch and render it very friendly and sensual. As a matter of fact I can see these little solids easily incoroporated into a promising erotic session. Oops, did I actually write that or just thought it? Anyway, a lucky reader commenting will be the recipient of the solid chocolate fragrances giveaway to find out for themselves *wink*
Draw will remain open till Easter Sunday, midnight. Draw is now closed.
You can of course buy some of the chocolate perfume solids either on this link on Etsy or the whole collection presented like chocolate candy in a heart-shaped box on that link on Etsy. (And while you're there browse around, there are individual samples and solids lurking as well at affordable prices)

Giveaway coffret was provided by the perfumer. I swapped for mine.

At the Moment

Though the time for lists is withheld for next week, counting down the minutes to the New Year, I sat and mentally checked all the things which are brightening these few days of rest and play. Enjoy and share yours with me as well. I'd love to read them when everyone is asleep and place is quiet.

Perfuming
This Christmas I'm scenting my home with the Silver Gems candle by Acqua di Parma: the spicy oriental fragrance is a complex melange of bergamot, orange, davana, plum, amber, vanilla, patchouli and cedarwood. It's scrumptious!
I'm also bringing out the sumptuous Guerlain perfumes, such as Attrape Coeur and Vol de Nuit, and of course my vintage Caron's Nuit de Noel (Christmas Eve, how appropriate). If not now, then when?

Reading
Just started Gillian Flynn's Sharp Objects and re-reading Philosophy in the Boudoir, even though contrary to the Marquis' advice I have no daughter. I have put this little tome by Randall Munroe and Society of the Spectacle on my wish list in the meantime for January.

Traditional folk carols from Thrace, sung above in the clip by Chronis Aidonidis

Listening
To Chopin's Etudes as interpreted by Pollini, one of my favorite pianists. And Greek Christmas carols, naturally.


Watching
Reruns of Frozen. It's a favorite in our house, what can I say! On a more personal level, not a very festive choice, but I'm catching up (belatedly, I know) House of Cards. And have tucked the original UK series for comparison's sake in my stocking...

Cooking
I have posted in the past several festive and wintery recipes I like to make, from Pork Care with Dried Apricots and Prunes to the classic Italian Pannetone all the way through Making Your Own Rich Vanilla Extract. And of course the iconic Greek melomakarona honey cookies! Apart from the latter calorie-bombs (which have already been consumed in our house, I'm afraid!), this year I am making Rice Pilaf with Pine Nuts, Chestnuts and Sultana Raisins. It's very tasty, goes well with any meat course and is super easy to make: you just simmer the nuts and fruit in a spoonful of olive oil in a big pot for 4 minutes, then add the raw rice and as much water as required, plus salt to taste.
Bon appetit!

Wearing
This is my party dress. The fitted bodice and pleated skirt make it easy to navigate, the boat neck is great to show off my citrine and gold chandellier earrings, above (apparently so now!).

Makeup
I have said it before, I will say it again. The Transatlantique Collection 2014 by Dior hid a precious gem. Well, it didn't exactly hid it, it was in plain sight amidst the other more "pedestrian" color choices, but still the limited edition detail bugged me enough to delay in getting the coveted item. Mayday #651 lipstick is a g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s red with a raspberry undertone which should fit any skin with a hint of pink or neutral undertones. My go-to choice for Christmas day! And if you want to match perfume to your lipstick, here are some ideas.


Please share in the comments what you're doing these days. 
And don't forget to check back tomorrow for the winner(s) of the grand prize by Tijon! (There's still time to enter a story on this link, if you haven't yet, to be eligible).
We will be having the year's roundup Best next Monday.

S-Perfumes S-Perfume Classic: fragrance review

The blinding white of Oia on Santorini island, Greece, against the pale blue of the natural pools contained within some of its cave-houses is not totally alien to the idea behind S-Perfume Classic by super-niche brand S-Perfumes.The same feeling of freshness and serenity -and perversly enough energy as well- reigns in both.

Source: bluepueblo.tumblr.com via Perfume on Pinterest

The S-Perfume "house" began in 2000, the first all-original perfumery to come out of Brooklyn, New York, though not the first one to be founded by a completely unrelated to perfumery individual. Nobi Shioya is a sculptor with an interest in scent who used various fragrances to scent his “Olfactory Art” installations. Nobi ~under the nom de plume Sacré Nobi~ brought on board perfume veterans such as Carlos Benaim and Sophia Grojsman. As Chandler Burr said: “Shioya shares with the scent-architect Frédéric Malle a Woody Allen-ish knack for convincing stars to work for him.” They began to create a series of scents as an art project with very fancy ad copy and very limited distribution  (Which sorta begs the question how the hell did certain non-professional people get on his wares so very, very early on, but I'll leave this to the more sleuthing among you). Word of mouth made the brand something of a mini-cult, not always deservedly (From the newly relaunched and pared down to three range S-ex is by far the most interesting and 100%Love the most wearable).

S-Perfume Classic was originally composed by Alberto Morillas under the project name Jet-Set 1.0 (all the S-Perfumes had conceptual names back then, taking inspiration from the seven deadly sins originally and later taking abstract names such as 100% Love). Christophe Laudamiel re-orchestrated it somewhat to its current formula, sold now as S-Perfume "classic". The label also changed, this time bearing a sort of sketching protozoon (or spermatozoon, if you prefer).

The ambience of the S-Perfume Classic is that of contemporary non-scents: Like Molecule 01 from Escentric Molecules, this is something that doesn't quite register on the cortex but moves like an abstract clean-musky aura around, coming in and out of focus. The ozonic, oxygen touch coupled with the "clean" factor of lavender, aromatic somewhat masculine-smelling herbs and sanitized musk -consisting of the familiar to all via functional products Galaxolide musk type- soon eschews all images of sensuality (The official notes mention creamy, cozy ingredients such as sandalwood and vanilla substituted by Laudamiel for the benzoin which Morillas had used, which nevertheless should not at any rate lead you to believe that we're dealing with a predominantly sensual affair of a skin-scent; the most you get is a hint, a tiny hint of suntan oil at a distance).
On the contrary, S-Perfume Classic has the salty zingy skin-like smelling effect of L'Eau Ambrée by Prada, airated by the coolness encountered in Serge Lutens's L'Eau Froide (but arrived to through totally different means) and is not a classic warm "beachy" fragrance.

Morillas had utilized the "clean" and "energetic" idea to impressive effect already in CK One (collaborating with Harry Fremont) and Mugler's Cologne, balanced with subtler salty-skin and herbs accents in the discontinued CK Truth (with Jacques Cavallier and Thierry Wasser)and adding a touch of cool spice in Bulgari's BLV. Laudamiel emphasized the somewhat rubbery facets recalling neoprene with a subtle woody-powdery finish that is sometimes perceptible and sometimes is not. But it's the shiny, almost hurting the eyes oxygen blast, as squeeky clean as the eyesore one gets upon opening their windows to a blinding white winter day decked in a yard of snow, or the whiteness of the water inside a surf wave, which stay in one's memory.

Notes for S-Perfume Classic: ozonic note, muguet mist, thyme, lavender, musks, sandalwood, vanilla bourbon

The Aesthetic Principle

When you use a synthetic raw material,” said [Thierry] Wasser, [perfumer at Guerlain] “if you know what you're doing you never, but absolutely never use it as a 'substitute' for some natural product. The synthetic is there to be itself—which by the way is something no natural material can be. People need to understand that we design our scents to be specific works.” […]“A work of scent is utterly unnatural,” said Wasser. “Samsara has nothing to do with ‘natural.’ Nature never would or could put it together, but it’s difficult for those people obsessed with ‘natural’—whatever that means—to understand that these synthetics smell like these synthetics and that we use them because they smell like these synthetics."

Vanitas series by Guido Mocafico, 2007 via parenthetically blog

The above comes (brought to my attention by Smedley, an online friend) from a snippet author Chandler Burr included in his reveal of the S02E05 Untitled Series, a project that asks people to smell perfume "blind", i.e. shed of any extraneous marketing or preconceived notions.

The problem is that the movement for "green" living specifically in regard to perfume, championing "less chemicals in our products", relies by its own nature (pun intended) on panic, herd mentality and pseudoscience. A similar streak runs through the anti-vaccination zealots or in people who believe rice crackers and an apple are more nutrient-rich & healthier than a plate of eggs & bacon. Just because something has been vilified in the press or "everyone says so" isn't enough proof to stand scientific scrutiny. But there you go: The hysterics on "green", "vegan", "organic" and "healthier" rely on the gullibility of people who aren't scientists and typically get intensely bored by scientific data or who are convinced Big Pharma is hiding beyond everything. No wonder few among them end up scrutinizing the facts, thus allowing "green marketing"* to get conflated with pseudo-science perpetuating inaccuracies online and in the press.

[*I had a discussion over cocktails with the president of local L'Oreal branch a few years back. He told me "Green is big now, so we promote green". It's L'Oreal, folks!]

It's tempting and easy on the ear to romanticize about "the aromatherapeutic effects of lavender" in your fabric softener and have watchdogs decide whether that should be so or not. In reality, the product you add in your machine's rinse cycle already doesn't contain one drop of real lavender oil. The mere name is a misnomer: lavender "this" and lavender "that" is usually no lavender at all, but a blend of vanilla and musks. That's because this is what people respond well to, according to an old study, its findings based on focus groups, conducted by a huge household cleaning products company. Even Guerlain's iconic Jicky is smart to buttress its own lavender with musk and civet.

Natural (a term that is incredibly difficult to define, since everything is man-treated in some form or other if to be used) is considered better because grown among urbanites sick & tired by the emptiness of a sterilized  existence it implies a "holier than thou" stance of being both informed (wrong, as we have proved) and considerate (wrong again, because relying on faulty proof and twisted medical terms). This desire "to avoid unnecessary chemicals" has greatly harmed the artistic merit and the solid reputation of the all naturals movement.

Perfumers dabbling in all naturals have been quick to sense that and you won't catch the indie & artisanal crowd that I frequently feature on my pages making bogus claims that their wares are better because they're "healthier" or "safer". Instead they propound their artistic integrity operating on a cottage industry level and their independence relying on no one's external funding and not answering to any board of directors. (To bring an analogy: now that Le Labo has been bought off by the Estee Lauder Group how much of their personal touch can survive? Little, judging by the Jo  Malone fragrance brand). More importantly they make their stance that they appreciate natural essences (and natural isolates in some cases, a very welcome addition in my personal opinion) as an aesthetic choice and a bond with perfume's history. 

Neither are niche or luxury perfumes necessarily better (the inherent snobbism of which justifies the high prices asked, making niche & luxury the only sector to show growth in the industry) because they use "better" materials or "more naturals" in their formula.

Don't try to guess via the price. Price is a marketing choice, it's positioning that doesn't directly reflect the formula's cost.

Don't try to guess via the color of the juice either. Fragrances are invariably dyed and the dark, grapes-worthy purple color of your Serge Lutens perfume (Sarrasins?) might not come due to the ingredients, much like the lilac in Vera Wang Princess doesn't either.

Certain luxurious niche perfumes do not contain one iota of frankincense or myrrh, even though they are indeed labeled as "incense", or they don't include even one drop of real rose absolute despite the marketing or the name. This does not diminish them, they are what they are, they connote rather than denote, and perfumery is indeed a game of connotation, of semiotics, of illusion via allusion. "Art is a lie that makes us realize truth", in the words of Pablo Picasso.

Things do not necessarily have to prove themselves in a politically charged or a strictly eco-conscious context when it comes to fragrance in order to capture our attention and ultimately our hearts. They merely ask to be considered on their own aesthetic merits; to be judged by the aesthetic principle. Which is another way to say "the pleasure principle", or jouissance, to use a Lacanian term. And sadly, this is what has been depreciated in our contemporary culture.