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

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Le Labo Cuir 28 (Dubai exclusive): fragrance review

What took Le Labo a couple of years to go from announcing Cuir 28 to actually launching it? It's as yet undivulged. Smelling the recently launched fragrance my mind is reeling into a fantasy of Chanel's Sycomore with leather and vanilla. Looks fabulous on paper but in practice it doesn't quite work as intended. Possibly because it looks like two disjointed parts, reminiscent of those kid's toys in which two rolls with images cut in half join at the middle to give you a giraffe's neck with lion's legs or a ballerina with the head of a Hell's Angel. In fact the parable of the latter isn't far removed from the reality of the latest Le Labo Dubai exclusive, Cuir 28.


via thinkgeek.com

Le Labo presents their leather fragrance as "Easy Rider without the sweat and gasoline — blending leather, wood and animal notes to give it a very powerful, dark and memorable personality" Specifically they mention natural vanilla absolute, leather notes (a synthetic base), woods (vetiver), animal notes (ambrox), and musks (muscenone).

Although the opening is jolting for anyone who considers the modern representatives of the "cuir" genre being cuddly and purring kittens like Guerlain Cuir Beluga or other suede fragrances (indeed these lean more to oriental than true leather scents), or spoiled by the plush iris note of Chanel Cuir de RussieCuir 28 is an exercise in illusion, an unusual and intriguing composition. Much like Tubereuse Criminelle before it, it hides beneath the shocking prelude a sensitive ballad. In Cuir 28 that ballad is played on the wooden wind instruments: a vanilla oboe and a vetiver clarinet, filling its other's phrases with a bridge in legato. The perfume's opening, smoky, tar-like, phenolic smelling with a touch of that cult Goutal, Eau du Fier and Band Aid worthy (oudh) pungency, isn't particularly animalic smelling, nor is it especially musky scented, but it can be a bit masculine and butch all the same. Wait about 15 minutes though (applying on the skin) and the rest of the composition in Cuir 28 becomes a sweetened vetiver scent, clean and comfortable and really fetching with its very perceptible vanilla. (Possibly there are more synthetic wood notes, like sandalwood, which provide some plush after the thrash.)
The comforting part has been a recent favorite for Le Labo judging from their Moscow exclusive, the extremely hard to come by Benjoin 19. Which beckons the question: Is the East succumbing to a Western taste?

Nevertheless, as is not uncommon with fragrances in the upper echelons of the pricing range, especially when they require a concentrated effort to get hold of as well, the dedicated perfumista might find that the effect is not worth the asking price in the end. Although I have been known to deem at least two of the Le Labo city exclusives, Poivre 23 and Gaiac 10, as worth the jumping through hoops  (and have Mastercard-in-hand capitulated to one), I realize this also has to do with personal preferences, and if you're delirious about leather or vetiver, Cuir 28 is still very worth sampling and I'm glad I tested it; my sample saw good use indeed. Among the city exclusives -and the regular line as well- Cuir 28 is certainly NOT amongst the worst (Limette 27 is probably the dullest), yet it leaves me with a feeling of a missed opportunity. I'd like it turned up a notch.

Fragrance notes for Le Labo Cuir 28: leather, vanilla absolute, woody notes, vetiver and musk.
Le Labo Cuir 28 is exclusively available at Dubai as a city exclusive according to the brand, only the place that was supposed to stock it there (Paris Galley in the Dubai Mall) is closed and until something else opens (which Le Labo informs us it shall), the perfume is nowhere to be found. Fate has no doubt been harsh to Cuir 28...

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: The Leather Fragrance Series, Le Labo Fragrance Reviews & News


Friday, April 26, 2013

Estee Lauder Honeysuckle Splash: fragrance review & history

Estée Lauder Honeysuckle Splash is another forgotten launch in the Lauder stable, much like Celadon and Pavillon, this time conceived by Aerin Lauder (the grand-daughter of Estée) and launched in 2000 with a mock vintage look. Although totally modern in literal terms, the bottle is a retro pastel pistachio green, as if reborn from the Technicolor 1950s, exactly similar to the one designed for Youth Dew, Aerin's grandmother's classic, designed 46 years previously. The name alone is full of promise: how wonderful would it be to be able to splash on one's self that delectable but elusive essence that fresh honeysuckle vines exude when you walk by on a warm, late spring evening?
The fragrance contrary to that dreamy picture was merely posing as an ancillary product to the main attraction, that season's makeup collection, code-named "Playful".  Oh marketing of feeble faith!


The delightful blend of Honeysuckle Splash is deeply floral with the nectarous quality that honeysuckle is famed for (to the point that children in Europe sometimes suckle on the flowers) and a more lasting impression than other lovely honeysuckle fragrances in the market, such as Annick Goutal's Chevrefeuille and L'Erbolario's Caprifoglio. In Lauder's take, Honeysuckle Splash, the pink and white flower with the honeyed petals is allied to the dependable note of orange blossom for extending the white flower note and further accented with citrusy notes of mandarin, the smooth elegance of neroli and the romanticism of white rose. The slight suntan oil impression lurking in the back hints at the presence of ylang ylang and maybe a smidgeon of sweet vanilla. The irresistible elevation of the fragrance into the truly worthwhile however is accounted to the richness of the orange blossom note and the neroli essence, with what seems like a spattering of linden as well, which opens the bouquet and makes Honeysuckle Splash poised between clean and subtly intimate, with a realistic nuance of lush, waxy, honeyed petals; a very flattering reference to a woman who wants to be flirted by a man like a flower by a probing bumble-bee. Typically for a Lauder it had potent sillage and great lasting power.

Even though many young women are hesitant to give in to floral fragrances in the idea that it makes them look either more mature than they want or somewhat old-fashioned, Honeysuckle Splash has enough contemporary sensibility to not alienate its natural demographic. It's a mystery why Honeysuckle Splash was discontinued shortly after its release; unless it was a limited edition to begin with, though I don't recall this being mentioned at the time. Like one woman put it: "I haven't heard of any plans to bring this product back but if they ever do I will be first in line to stock up". It was around a period where another series of fragrances was issued (this time a definite limited edition thing), called Pleasures in the Garden. But for that another post, another day.


Thursday, April 11, 2013

La Belle Epoque in Clove-Scented Buds & Modern Carnation Fragrances

There's something about the imaginary buds of pepper and clove that conjure the drawing rooms of La Belle Epoque, where carnation bouquets were bursting off their vases, and of funereal wreaths heaving with the sadness of the vanished; an illusion, an unaccountable stay of execution, the carnation blossoms. This tightly swirled affair of fragrant petals, so disregarded, so pedestrian, so much of a filler flower. And yet...From deep beneath its corolla comes the scent of a bygone era and the remnants of romance; a spicy effluvium that speaks of anticipative prom corsages as much as of hidden passions.



REFLECTIONS ON AN WEARY EYE

Oscar Wilde himself, king of hidden passions, was infamous for his allegiance to the curly blossom which decorated his groomed attire, as much as his homoerotic proclivities; it was "The Green Carnation", a short-lived but widely read scandalous novel from 1894 that supposedly reprised the illicit love affair of the Irish author with Lord Alfred Douglas, which damaged his reputation beyond repair and was held against him in a court of law. Subsequent lore even goes as far as to suggest that the green carnation on his lapel was a nod to the Parisian pederast scene, and yet there is absolutely no evidence to suggest that it was so; in fact were there any shred of truth in that claim it would have been presented during his libel trial regarding the Marquess of Queensbury. But such is the nature of the flower; it provokes with both its voluptuous appearance and its spicy bouquet which removes it from the realm of the chaste and the virginal into the territory of the fierce. After all, in the language of flowers a deep red carnation stands for mad love and affection. Pink and white carnations on the other hand represent a mother's love, enshrined into becoming the official Mother's Day blossom, inspired by the religious tale of having sprang from the earth from the tears of the Virgin Mary weeping for her son on the cross.

If your only acquaintance with carnations (Dianthus caryophyllus) is the refrigerated, florist shop, overbred kind that fills bouquets of more posh flowers in need of a larger budget, or sad, funeral wreaths, the jolting into smelling the vanilla-laced yet oddly phenolic, smoky pepperiness of a good garden variety -such as the Sweet William or the revived Malmaison carnations (reprised in the now discontinued Floris fragrance by the very name), huge and headily fragrant- is enough to make you reconsider.

Most carnation scents harken back to old days quite factually. The incontestable Poivre and the diluée Coup de Fouet, both Caron, are badges of another era, when a Cruella Deville warmth emanating from a plush fur coat was considered the height of chic instead of an invasion of private space and asinine disregard for animal rights. Bellodgia, another Caron, this time more romantic rather than baroque, with its sweetish, soft halo was a huge success when it came out in 1927, reminiscent of Italian vacations. Today it is considered nostalgically retro, too signora for today's signorinas. Ernest Daltroff, the maverick perfumer and founder of the French house, was extremely fond of carnation, nevertheless, injecting it along with his equally beloved Mousse de Saxe like a stealth superpower in almost everything he made. It is unfathomable to speak of carnation fragrances without mentioning the Caron canon; En Avion, Or et Noir, Le Troisieme Homme...there's no end. Even in modern Caron releases, such as the liturgical leaning Parfum Sacre, carnation plays an important role, it's a true fetish!

The prime of carnation fragrances came in the 1920s and all the fragrances of the period are specimens constructed on cloves, with which carnations share facets, as we will see further on. This genre, a, harmonious spicy blend, was considered evocative of the tropics, fanned on cardamom, coriander, cinnamon, cloves and pepper, alongside heady, narcotic flowers, in tune with the Orientalism that pervaded the roaring 20s. Guerlain even revisited this idea with their modern Terracota Voile d'Ete a while ago. Most of those fragrances however, like Oeillet Fane by Grenoville, Patou's Adieu Sagesse or Lancome's Fleches, have all but disappeared with (almost) no trace. Blue Carnation by Roger & Gallet was very popular, ensuring a continued existence, but it finally capitulated; the 1937 scent's been discontinued to the dismay of many; at least the soap survives. If we know and recognize a carnation in a complex blend today we owe it most of all to the enduring success of L'Air du Temps by Nina Ricci, the fragrance which in 1947 consolidated what Coty's L'Origan had inaugurated in 1905 and which L'Heure Bleue made impossibly romantic, the spicy floral. Indeed L'Air du Temps owes a lot to the spicy chord inside its complex, nuanced heart, making the fragrance piquant instead of merely soft and pretty.



This trick is carried over to other fragrances, sometimes NOT specifically within the soliflore category, following the Ricci paradigm: Charlie (Revlon), Norell (Norell and later Revlon), Balahe (Leonard), all take carnation to the bosom to inject a much needed accent, even in greener compositions. Some even take things further, proposing the spicy floral in an orientalized blend, such as Vol de Nuit (Guerlain), Dioressence (Dior) Opium (Yves Saint Laurent), Cinnabar and Spellbound (both Lauder) the original Poison (Dior), Roma (Laura Biagotti)..... The carnation there imparts a fresh spiciness amidst the heftier elements. We might as well see the breakthrough of this latter trend in the potent carnation direction of Tabu by perfumer Jean Carles.

Contemporary creators are not indifferent to such a fierce adherence to this passionate note: Jar's Golgonda behaves like a grand-daughter to Coup de Fouet, clotted cream inside the fieriness, one can almost picture it on the proverbial feisty red-head. Diamond Water is still carnation, but lighter and more transient, with a metallic quality, like a cross between Parfum Sacre and Bellodgia. Garofano, dense and almost thorny to wade through, by Lorenzo Villoresi, is a successor of the hefty tradition. Modern fragrances with a rather light-hearted, unisex character include Dianthus by Etro and Comme des Garcons Carnation from Series 2 Red. Masculine scents, incontestably virile, also utilize carnation for good measure: look no further than Equipage by Hermes, Cacharel pour Homme, Tabac Original (Mauer & Wirtz), Worth Pour Homme and the classic standby Old Spice.

THE PERFUMER'S ART

Eugenol and isoeugenol are practically inseparable in nature so it makes sense to use both when constructing a carnation accord. The former appears prominently in cloves, as well as in allspice and bay leaf, but also in basil and floral essences (rose, ylang ylang, jasmine), while the latter (detectable in nutmeg and mace) is more floral-balsamic, accounting for a truer "carnation blossom" scent.

L'Artisan Parfumeur's wondrously natural-smelling and deliciously soft carnation scent, sadly discontinued, Oeillet Sauvage, was based on two main floral components: rose and ylang ylang, no doubt aided by spicy accents. Etro's dianthus is a similar take. Guerlain experimented in Metallica, renamed Metalys, when the band objected. The whole exercise proved unpopular however, making the remaining bottles rare collectibles. Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier Soie Rouge is a rich, satisfying carnation with a generous side of good materials. Prada has Oeillet in the boutique exclusive line.
originally taken by Dimitri Dimitriades (sorceryofscent.com)





"Natural rose extract and ylang essential oils are the real thing: rich in depth and volume, varying in quality and ...expensive. Especially the rose oil. The "cheat" there is to use nice and cheaper rose and ylang bases provided by industry. Mostly synthetic, but doing the trick for the large scale markets." says Andy Tauer of niche line Tauer Perfumes. Rose is exactly the trick in Eternity by Calvin Klein; the scent smells like carnations, but is built on roses.

The molecule 4-vinyl guiacacol, coming from grape-drived percursors in yeast and must, is an interesting proposition: in white wines it has the double edge of appearing like a fresh carnation in dilution or a dense clove off-note in concentration. The crucial percentage is dependent on grape variety, yeast strain used and the fermentation process, a delicate balance which shows the secret bond between carnation and cloves best of all.


Regardless of carnations falling out of fashion, the sweet-spicy note is frequently part of both women's and men's fragrances, and will remain so in the future. A number of compounds with a carnation character have been invented, supplementing the above stated naturals. Benzyl isoeugenol, or 2-methoxy-1-(phenylmethoxy)-4-(1-propenyl)benzene, a solid with a balsamic note and a powdery carnation-like sweetness, and Methyl Diantilis ® (Givaudan), or 2-ethoxy-4-(methoxymethyl)phenol, which has a sweet-smoky odor with powdery aspects reminiscent of carnation are two of the most popular ones.

The main constituents in the spicy bouquet of carnation are eugenol and isoeugenol. It is therefore unfortunate and foreboding that these substances are greatly rationed in the recent specifications of the SCCS and IFRA directives, signaling a recalibration of how a carnation accord is constructed in perfumery. But not all is blek: Eugenol is strong enough, even in the 0.5% limit in the final formula and new discoveries promise to preserve this retro spicy note.
Lately carnation is revisited anew: Vitriol d'Oeillet is a very recent release by Serge Lutens, steeped into the gothic and mystical ambience for which the maestro is known. If Lutens is doing it, everyone will soon be doing it.


Thursday, August 2, 2012

Frequent Questions: Differences Between the Hermes Merveilles Perfume Editions, Flankers & Limited Editions (With Photos)

Among perfumes with several confusing similarly-named editions there are a few. You can check PerfumeShrine's previous entries on the different flankers/perfume editions of Dior Poisons, the many flankers/limited editions of Dior best-seller J'Adore, the various reformulations/repackaging of Miss Dior Cherie, the super confusing group of fragrance editions by Rodriguez Narciso For Her with their differences highlighted, the Etro Via Verri original and reformulated editions, the Shiseido Zen perfume editions ...and there's surely going to be more!
Today I'm going to offer an illustrated guide to sort out the confusion attested regarding one fragrance among those with a dedicated cult following: Eau de Merveilles and its by now many flankers and limited editions issued by the venerable house of Hermès.

Timeline, Info and Notes for Different Hermès "Merveilles" Fragrance Editions with pics: 



Eau de Merveilles (2004) 
Pefumers: Ralf Schwieger and Nathalie Feisthauer
Eau de Toilette concentration
Notes: ambergris, pink pepper, violet, fir, oakmoss, orange, lemon, cedar, elemi, Madagascar vetiver

The main theme of this truly original fragrance, this "water of wonders", and the reason it's a deserved cult is the orange-shaded ambergris salty impression of skin, resolutely non-floral for a marketed to women fragrance (although perfectly unisex in all practical purposes!) and "natural" smelling in its overall impression, negating the notion that the person wearing it is wearing a perfume.
Technically speaking the intriguing thing is Eau de Merveilles collapses the traditional pyramidal structure entirely, as all the woody-musky notes are on top, rather than the base of the fragrance, getting the ambergris note upfront in large print.


Parfum des Merveilles  (2005)
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Extrait de Parfum concentration
Notes: Oak, patchouli, mosses, amber, Peru balsam, tears of Siam, Davaba, Cognac note, leaves, roots
A concentrated composition with more intense resinous ingredients which Jean Claude Ellena worked on while the original was selling its first bottles.


Parfum des Merveilles (2006)
Limited edition of the Parfum des Merveilles of 2005 extrait de parfum in Saint-Louis blue crystal (same juice)
Extrait de Parfum concentration



Elixir des Merveilles (2006) 
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Eau de Parfum concentration
Notes: Peru balsam, vanilla sugar, amber, sandalwood, tonka bean, patchouli, siam resin, caramel, oak, incense, orange peel and cedar.

Hermes Elixir des Merveilles is a quite different formula rather than just an EDP concentration of the original Eau de Merveilles, focusing on more resinous chypre elements highlighted rather than the ambergris woody notes of the EDT version. It is succulent, warmer and less salty than the original and relatively tenacious. 



Eau de Merveilles Constellation (2006) 
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottles features an etched illustration of the classic chariot of the house under a star constellation.


Eau de Merveilles Pegase (2007)
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottle features an illustration of the flying horse Pegasus from the Greek mythology.


Eau Claire des Merveilles (autumn 2010) 
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Eau de Parfum concentration

This new interpretation of the "magical water" boasts  airy notes alongside the sophisticated woody notes and warm ambergris of the original. It incorporates powdery soft vanilla, airy notes and for the first time a few abstract floral notes to give a luminous character. The overall impression of Eau Claire des Merveilles is of a musky vanilla scent with softly powdery ambience. 




Eau de Merveilles Au Bal des Etoiles (February 2012) [i.e. Ball of the Stars]
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottle features a "dragonfly fairy" design by illustrator Alice Charbin.






L'Ambre des Merveilles (summer 2012)
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Eau de Parfum concentration
Notes: amber, labdanum, patchouli and vanilla.

The emphasis on L'Ambre des Merveilles is on the classical ingredient used to render an "amber" base blend: labdanum with all its leathery-sweet-intimate aspects in place. 


All the bottles in the Hermes Merveilles series routinely come in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz sizes, with the occasional 15ml/0.5oz travel size issued (same as the Hermessences coffret shape and size) except for the parfum and limited edition bottles, of course.

pics via fragrantica.com and basenotes.net

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

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

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia: fragrance review

A warm, sandy beach...soaking up the rays, you rest sprawled in a deckchair, your hand hanging down in the shadowy spot beneath it, idly caressing the sugar-spun grain...kicked off sandals nearby...a faint hint of tropical flowers and suntan lotion in the breeze...and the world sits still for a while. This summer fantasy leads to soothing thoughts and sensual imaginings and it's all the fault of Guerlain's Lys Soleia, I'm convinced! An interplay between light and shadow, between heat and , basking in the afterglow.


Guerlain had the brilliant idea to offer something for casual wearing and younger dispositions around 1999, the Aqua Allegoria line. Incongruent, with agile, ambrosial specimens alongside undoubtably acrylic painting flops, the line has thankfully picked up in the last couple of seasons (for instance see Guerlain Jasminora ) and Lys Soleia, the latest fragrance in the collection, is among the clear winners.

As announced previously, Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia is centered around a semi-fresh, semi-tropical floral composition, which reproduces the sensuous aroma of oriental yellow lilies and the regal white lily. The treatment is initially leaning into the delicious tannning lotion aroma of classic European favorite Ambre Solaire, with a tangy hint of citrus ling-a-ling (and Guerlain is no stranger to great citrus, just witness Shalimar Light), rich in salicylates and the tropical floral note of ylang ylang as well as the greener part of the tuberose plant, heady and sensual. Lys Soleia is taking a page off both Guerlain's own Terracotta Sous le Vent dry oil and the green-powdery-lily strewn Vanille Galante in the Hermessences series by Hermes with its delicate veil of vanilla. The spicy touch of lily is nicely peppered, biting gently, bridging the gap between lily and ylang ylang. This tender and very temperately sweet fragrance doesn't really lose its sensuous tropical flower feel upon drying down on the skin, but enhances the muskiness of warmed skin and light creamy vanillic nuances.


Perfume enthusiasts who like Nuxe Parfum Prodigieux, Cartier Baiser Vole, Serge Lutens Un Lys and Hermes Vanille Galante are advised to try it; it shares kindred DNA. But so are lovers of feminine tropical florals who don't want oppressive clobber-you-down tiare re-runs smelling cheap. Lys Soleia smells eerily familiar and at the same time freshly renewed, with a delicacy and balance of composition that denotes true Guerlain mastery. Perfumer Thierry Wasser proves he can carry the baton after all. Who would have thought he'd do it with an Aqua Allegoria?

Available at major department stores £37/€51 for 75ml

 pic via simplewishes.tumblr.com

Thursday, April 26, 2012

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.


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

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Tom Ford Private Blend Tuscan Leather: fragrance review

Created in 2007 by perfumers Harry Frémont and Jacques Cavallier for the Tom Ford Private Blend line, Tuscan Leather is an atypical leather fragrance not quite for everyone; leather enthusiasts might find enough quirks and crannies to elaborate on, but still be puzzled by its antithetical, polarising nature.

via stickssn.org

On one hand, the introductory blast of petrol fumes plus red fruits (mainly the tart scent of raspberries) is not exactly conductive to what people have come to expect from luxury leather blends. The expected pipe tobacco-leather upholstery richness with its fruity, bittersweet and whiskey nuances contrasts intellectually with the effect witnessed here. We have also been familiarised with the fuzzy apricot and amaretto-apricot-pits ambience of Lutens's Daim Blond, for a suede-like scent, but the tartness of berries offsets the leathery pungency here rather than mollify it. The leather perfume note in the Tom Ford is rubbery, smoky, like shoe polish and cool tires. If your elegant leather ideal has always been Chanel's Cuir de Russie, Tom Ford proposes a modern take on leather, but with much less vanilla and musks than in Bvlgari's rubbery Black.

On the other hand, pungent but restrained and under specific circumstances even velvety, with a true leathery note like a nubuck handbag fresh off the mending shop, Tuscan Leather is a cross between luxury items, new bucket seats in your new Bentley and furniture polish smeared generously on wooden planks. The leathery nuance by saffron, bittersweet,  fits perfectly. There is even a hemp like note, and I was under the impression I was delusional until I saw The Non Blonde claim the same. The terpenic, pine-like facets, revealing themselves through resinous citrusy elements (frankincense being one), are jarring, instead of airy or citric like in Etro's Gomma. Perhaps even more jarring by the addition of an oud base, a direction in which Montale followed with his Aoud Leather two years later. Perversely, the more the fragrance stays on, the more the raspberry comes through. Trippy!

Essentially linear, Tuscan Leather projects well and lasts average. In a pinch, if you sprayed Givenchy's Hot Couture over a gritty leather armchair, preferably in a newly polished library, you might start getting what this is all about. Butcher on women's skin than on men's but also sweeter in the final whisper, it's a unisex fragrance like all the Tom Ford Private Blends, which demands trying on first. It's not for shy, girly-girl women or men lacking self confidence.

Notes for Tom Ford Private Blend Tuscan Leather:
Raspberry, thyme, saffron, jasmine, olibanum, leather, oud/aoudh/agarwood.

Tom Ford Tuscan Leather is available in 50ml and 100ml bottles (from what I have seen, other Private Blends come in 250ml) of Eau de Parfum in select doors where the Tom Ford Private Blend is sold.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Leather Fragrances reviews series, Tom Ford news & reviews

Friday, March 16, 2012

Guerlain Chamade (1969) Fragrance Review Series Part 5: Epilogue

A poem records emotions and moods that lie beyond normal language, that can only be patched together and hinted at metaphorically.
―Diane Ackerman


~by guest writer AlbertCAN



Love is the great unpredictable, the original X factor: almost everyone admits that love is a necessity for our survival, yet no one agrees on just what exactly it is. Even the concept itself is an enigma: scholars manage to trace the idea back to the Sanskrit word lubhyati, meaning “desire”; yet its root disintegrates thereafter. The word we now use actually is of German origin and not set until Middle English:

From Old English lufu (“love, affection, desire”), from Proto-Germanic *lubō (“love”), from Proto-Indo-European *lewbʰ-, *leubʰ- (“love, care, desire”). Cognate with Old Frisian luve (“love”), Old High German luba (“love”). Related to Old English lēof (“dear, beloved”), līefan (“to allow, approve of”), Latin libet, lubō (“to please”).*

Perhaps all this confusion is a direct reflection on the often chaotic nature of the heart, how it governs its affairs? Comes with the territory is the gamut of expressions: Guerlain Chamade is surely a memorable grace note in the mankind’s on-going paen.

Jean-Paul Guerlain was certainly amorously inspired when creating Chamade: “I won’t tell you the name of the lady for whom I created Chamade, but she was very beautiful. For me, Chamade was Guerlain’s first modern perfume after Shalimar and Mitsouko. I am still in love with it” (Edwards, 148).

The influence of Chamade on French perfumery is subtle yet fascinating upon a closer second look. Its combination of hedione and blackcurrent, pairing with white florals, was reprised almost a decade later when Jean Claude Ellena created First (1976) for Van Cleef & Arpels, the master perfumer’s initial success. Its green floral motif would even resurface arguably in Chanel No. 19 (1971), which Henri Robert was busy developing with Mademoiselle Chanel when Chamade came out, though the soft vanilla base was no doubt stripped away in lieu of a more assertive chypre base.

On a personal note I really wish the structure of Guerlain Chamade played a more prominent role in the recent modernization of the house, for the scent’s stunning bone structure leads to many possibilities: the opening verdancy could easily be morphed into milky greens such as Glycolierral, the ivy oxime that provides so much glow in the opening of J’Adore (1999) by Christian Dior. The fruits could be softened with more transparent floral notes such as fresh sambac jasmine, and woods more ethereal. Yet I’m not sure this is the current emphasis of Guerlain, nor am I certain if Thierry Wasser, the current in-house nose, would want to partake in that direction. Neither am I certain that people are courageous enough to take the time to get it nowadays when everything is going at a breakneck pace.

Chamade is not for everyone, nor is that the underlying idea. The development is complex, the embedded cultural depth required for its appreciation is advanced. Yet those who take the time really appreciate how the fragrance manages to get things right. For this post I’m going to leave the last word to Luca Turin, who calls Chamade a miracle in the original Parfums: le guide

A smooth green top note introduces a miracle that develops over a few hours, indeed a few days. As the initial breath fades, a powerful white note slowly evolves, polished and seamless, powdery and sculptured, developing with no hint of becoming simpler or thinner. Typically Guerlain in its flattering and tender character, Chamade is an arrogant perfume, pure and far removed from the chic audacity of Jicky and Shalimar. Its tenacity is amazing. One might even think it was composed to be smelt after two days, so put it on at least two house before you ask it to be effective. [Chamade is] a masterpiece of elegance and poetry, one of the greatest perfumes of all time (Edwards, 150).


Photo: Original photography from designer and friend Ms. Danielle Jarvis. All rights reserved by the artist.

Citation
Edwards, Michael. Perfume Legends: French Feminine Fragrances. Crescent House Pub, 1999. ISBN: 0646277944

Turin , Luca. Parfums: le guide, Editions Hermè ( Paris , 1992), p. 37, 38

* http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=love

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Guerlain Chamade (1969) Fragrance Review Series Part 3: The Fragrance

"Perfume is made mainly so that one remembers the woman who wears it. I like to call it the elevator effect. This is the man who goes to meet his lover—whether it be his fiancée, his wife, or his mistress—who has entered a building before him. She is wearing perfume, and he smells it. Suddenly his heart beats faster and the blood rushes to his head."
—Jean-Paul Guerlain via “Perfume Legends: French Feminine Fragrances” by Michael Edwards (1996)



~by guest writer AlbertCAN
[For Part 1 Introduction to the Myth and Part 2 The Muses refer to the links]

Of all the approaches to fragrance criticism I’m most dreary of the revisionist approach, pulling a scent out of the context of its time and aiming at regurgitating an ill-advised paradigm. Somehow the critic’s bias shines through more than anything else. Of course, fragrance masterpieces deserve to be respected—and insincere efforts need to be chided—but a fragrance ultimately needs to be judged based on its genre and its cultural context. It’s not a fragrance critic’s job to ignore the innovations set forth by a classic fragrance, nor forgetting to mention the classicism within a new launch. They are simply two sides of the same coin in perfumery.

After more than four decades Guerlain Chamade is of course deservedly termed a grand classic, but to assume that a classic-smelling French fragrance lacks an ounce of rebellion is not a correct notion, either.

Perhaps the biggest misconception about Chamade is its doyenne status. There lies the paradox: sure, the definition of youth has changed dramatically, but back in 1969 Chamade’s opening would be considered quite interesting. Hedione. Blackcurrant. All then new materials and not widely used. Of course Edmond Roudnitska employed hedione brilliantly in Eau Sauvage (1966), but the chemical hadn’t been widely dared in women’s fragrances. Nowadays the blackcurrant note has been used to a fault, but Chamade was arguably the first to have done so. Again, one shouldn’t fault the early adaptor, even if the innovation becomes commonly accepted.

But I’m really ahead of myself. The trembling of the heart really starts with two key players: the interplay of galbanum and hyacinth. Both are quite polarizing, having a refreshing but strong-willed diffusion—hyacinth, having an unapologetically white floral scent with a slightly bitter edge; galbanum, emitting an all-out, almost knife-sharp verdancy. The chills, when set on the typical Guerlain warmth, surprisingly pulsate and mimic the intrigue upon feeling "the mad ache". (Doesn’t one often feel a moment of clarity even when falling madly in love with the wrong person? The interplay of fire and ice can be so cruel sometimes.) Had the opening act been allowed to dominate the fragrance would have been reduced to a bony, postmodern solarium, but all this feels like the opening clash of the battlefield surrender signal.

The undulation between the cold and the warmth really creates a dual effect when narcissus and vanilla add to the tension. Within the context of ylang ylang and blackcurrant the narcissus feels opulent and insolent at the same time, yet there’s a certain ambiguity about the shapelessness of it all, as if the character of Sagan’s heroine Lucile comes to life. Chamade the fragrance would have been the necessary luxury she craves, yet like the fragrance she doesn’t fully give in when facing her feelings, essentially not out of defiance, but actually coming from an undulating ambivalence. Do not be mistaken by the gauzy, silken aura with a slight golden sheen: Deneuve has that the necessary indirectness down pat—the confusion is essentially self-serving and really the destination, not the process.

Come to think of it Chamade’s legendary development curve adds a beguiling interplay to the theme of Sagan’s novel as well: this has never been a forthcoming, no-barred-hold type of wild attraction story at heart, but more of an exquisite torture. The pang of the hyacinth and galbanum really hold fort for a good while before the drydown of the narcissus-amber sets in. In fact it’s exactly this character that makes exposes the problem of testing fragrances on paper blotters: testing a multi-dimensional olfactory sculpture on a two-dimensional medium is an act in futility in itself.



On a personal note I was determined not to make that sampling mistake when presenting Chamade to my godmother Jeannie, instead testing the scent directly on her skin. Surely enough the golden gauze envelopes her upon first spray; after decades of using L’Air du Temps, Chamade became her signature, no doubt in part because my beloved godfather was hooked from the get go!


Photo: Guerlain Chamade fragrance advertisement from the 80s, via Google

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Scent of the Vanishing Flora (2010) by Roman Kaiser: Perfume Book Review

“Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more. It's contrast.”

                        ―Virginia Woolf, played by Nicole Kidman in "The Hours" (2002)



by guest writer AlbertCAN

Perhaps the most peculiar aspect of the fragrance industry, in the current sea of familiarity, is its ever forward-venturing heart. Just short of fully channelling the great prophetess Cassandra of Troy, fragrance taste-makers are constantly asked not just Quoi de neuf? No, any top brass should be asked to envision what’s next five or even ten years from now, where people’s taste are migrating, how people see themselves in the foreseeable future. Strategizing vision, navigating instability. After all, as any good MBA school dictates, a business leader articulates not just the now but the tomorrow. Or so on paper.

Of course, I’m writing about a climate where almost anything could be copyrighted but the actual fragrance formula, at a time when the next fragrance launch is really a thinly veiled doppelgänger of non-descript best sellers. Promise everything but sell them run of the mill. And in the era of good enough it really takes a book such as “Scent of the Vanishing Flora” by Swiss fragrance chemist Roman Kaiser to remind myself that interesting works are being conducted beneath the seemingly boring façade.

Since 1968 Kaiser has been working for Givaudan, where he analyzes and reconstitutes natural scents for use in perfumery using the headspace technology, and after Douglas Stermer’s 1995 publication “Vanishing Flora: Endangered Plants Around the World” Givaudan began its aromatic exploration of endangered plants via eco-friendly, non-intrusive means. As of the end of 2010 Kaiser has analyzed 520 scented endangered plant species around the world; 267 are featured in this book.

The quality of Kaiser’s research is truly bar none, detailing each featured plant not just its ecology and history but also linking its scents to the major aromatic components. The book presents the flora with utmost respect, featuring large, high-resolution photos of nearly all the plants and gives very clear, concise descriptions of their conservation status at the time of writing. The scent profiles of each plant are equally thoughtful and concise, listing aspects of each scent not just by their characteristics, but also the aromatic components the scents are attributed to—not just their names in IUPAC but also the structural diagrams where applicable. To illustrate Kaiser’s superb ability to fuse the artistic with the scientific I have his account of the gorgeous night-blooming cereus:



"Equally spectacular in its flower and in contrast to S. wittii, more often seen in collections is Selenicereus grandiflorus, the famous ‘Queen of the Night’. The vine-like climber is native to Mexico, Jamaica, and Cuba, and develops large, amazingly beautiful flowers of the purest white surrounded by rayed golden petals. The flowers are also strictly nocturnal, moth pollinated, opening after sunset, reaching their maximum around mid-night, and already withering at dawn. They produce a very warm and rich aromatic-flower perfume backed up by white-floral facet which is quantitatively dominated by benzyl isovalerate [Kaiser’s diagram below], accompanied by a series of other isovalerates and esters of isomayl alcohol. These compounds, in part arising from the leucine catabolism, are, together with vanillin, olfactorily responsible for the vanilla and cocoa aspects, while linalool, (E,E)-farnesol, and high amount of (E,E)-farnesal including isomers contribute the white-floral and lily of the valley-related aspect. To protect this unique species at its natural habitat form overcollection for commercial puposes, it has been placed in CITES Appendis II. Among the 27 nocturnal species within Selenicereus, most have an equally stunning appearance but many have scents which correspond more to the so-called ‘white-floral’ concept often found among night-scented flowering plants".[Kaiser, 174]

              

vanillin
benzyl isovalerate
                                               
linalool

                                          



(E,E)-farnesol
             
(E,E)-farnesal
                             
If great natural scent variations are present within a plant, such is the case of a few orchids Kaiser would mention them as well. (Octavian has sampled a number of the scents featured in this book here so I shall not digress on that front.)

The most alarming aspect of the book, at least to me, isn’t about the far-flung, exotic plants featured in this book (which there are plenty) but the everyday, familiar gardening plants that are in fact on the brink of extinction due to over-harvesting. The ginkgo tree, as Kaiser informs, was thought to be extinct in the wild for centuries until “two small populations have been discovered in Eastern China” (pg. 37). Then the wide array of orchids due to a varying combination of deforestation and excessive harvesting: cattleyas, laelias, cymbidiums, dendrobiums—plants we see or even buy in garden centers and florists but in fact fast disappearing from the face of the earth. Or the gamut of trees due to their historical and cultural significance: rosewood, sandalwood, agarwood...I am beginning to see why the great Taoist writer and philosopher Zhuangzi often championed the non-descript, for brilliant things are often used and abused.

Still, the genius of this book is not based on just its multi-disciplinary approach or seamlessly fusing botany, ecology, organic chemistry, anthropology and even sociology. At the end of the day Kaiser presents a thoroughly researched, pain-stakingly detailed anthology of endangered plants. Readers from all walks of life can take away something from this book: for the average readers, the stunning photographs and stories; for the botanists and ecologists, the thorough research on the conservation of plants; and most importantly for fragrance chemists, the all too important scent readings that allow the future preservation of these plants, even only in their scents.

Some minor caveats, however. Firstly, for those who only wish to pick up a copy as a coffee table book, as chic as it might sound, they might be put off by the wide array of chemistry featured in this book. In fact having some post-secondary background in science, be it botany or organic chemistry, is highly recommended in order to fully comprehend the book. Still, to be honest the book is enticing enough even if you skip a few chemical names. On the other hand for those who are very chemically proficient: Kaiser did not include every single scent reading—the results on agarwood, for instance, aren’t shown (I’ve checked—several times) even though a sizable section is devoted to Kaiser’s findings. Minor grumblings compared to the overall quality of the work, however.

Scent of the Vanishing Flora” by Roman Kaiser was published by Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta, Zürich, and Wiley-VCH, Weinheim. I purchased my copy from Amazon.ca.

Photos: Book cover photo from Leffingwell; Selenicereus grandiflorus from patspatioplants.com; compound diagrams from Google.com

Reference: R. Kaiser, Scent of the Vanishing Flora, Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta, Zürich, and Wiley-VCH, Weinheim, November 2010, ISBN 13: 978-3-906390-64-2, 400 pages.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Twin Peaks: Calvin Klein Secret Obsession & Oriflame Chiffon

Usually the Twin Peaks series, an album comprised of smell-alike snapshots, springs from the demand for similar-smelling perfumes, either less expensive homologue scents, alternatives when a specific fragrance doesn't quite work but you know you like the effect or substitutes when one's favourite is ruined through reformulations. The case of Secret Obsession and Chiffon by Oriflame (a Swedish skincare & cosmetics company that distributes its products throughout the world BUT for the USA) is neither: The former just immediately sprang to mind upon happening to smell the latter. And it needed documenting for posterity's sake, especially now that Calvin Klein's Secret Obsession is getting axed and disappearing from fragrance counters. Who knows, it might be someone's favourite and they might be desperate to find a replica!


Though Chiffon is not an intentional replica (i.e. a dupe), being neither marketed nor created as such, the case with Oriflame perfumes is that often they reprise the formulae of successful brands with minimal twists. Anyone who has ever smelled their perfume portfolio has noticed that Volare for instance is Lancôme Trésor's "décolletage over a peach angora sweater" less flamboyant sister. That's nothing new in the perfumery market of course, when big companies unblushingly flat out copy other big companies, but I digress. The reason in this case is because Oriflame fragrances are developed by the same company that develops brand fragrances for designers (namely Givaudan). Like with many Twin Peaks articles, a good formula is carried on by perfumers from brief to brief (see L de Lolita Lempicka and Musc Ravageur, both by Maurice Roucel, or Azuree, Cabochard and Aramis, all by Bernand Chant).
Oriflame isn't reticent on putting impressive images into their presentation either: they hired mega-model Natalia Vodianova for their Midnight Pearl previously in a clip that was eerily reminiscent of the Dior Midnight Poison commercial in all its sweeping drama. So looking down on them isn't always a wise move is what I'm saying; they have a few things worthy of further exploration.

Secret Obsession is presented as a floriental, created by Givaudan perfumer Calice Becker and art-directed by Ann Gottlieb who is responsible for many Calvin Klein successful launches. To me however it registers as lightly fruity-spicy-woody, much like the Lancome feminine fragrance Magnifique, with which it shares many facets. Poised between Lauder's Sensuous and Magnifique, along with its congenial sisters, it's part of the new vogue in feminine fragrances: namely woody, duskier notes.

The initial impression of spraying Secret Obsession is rum-like boozy with an alcoholic hairspray blast petering out quickly, plummy and ripe but not overtly sweet (a good thing!), especially compared with the overall sweeter Magnifique.
In Secret Obsession there is a distinct phase in which the resinous, intense aroma of mace provides a welcome surprise as the fragrance opens up on the warmth of skin.
The overall effect is tanned skin, cocoa-buttyric musky, cedary-woody, much of it accountable to Cashmeran (a woody musk of synthetic origin) and is less loud than the oriental monochromatic amber of the original Obsession by Calvin Klein or the fruity megaphones of Euphoria, but perceptible. Secret Obsession has a linear development that doesn't change much as you wear it: the initial scent becomes warmer and duskier, but doesn't change significantly over time. I wouldn't necessarily deem it too sexy or provocative (despite the advertising) and would prefer to see it in a body oil concentration where its shady character would shine.

Chiffon has a lovely name, evocative of a sheer, expensive material with a soft tactile feel and reprises the softest elements in Secret Obsession to project as a woody-musky hum with indefinable "clean" notes that translate as soft, powdery, whispery. It's accompanied by sensual advertising that is short of the overt sexual innuendos in the Calvin Klein scent. It's just a classier image overall. Typically for an Oriflame fragrance Chiffon is light in volume and not tremendously lasting (invariably they're eaux de toilette), though decently pleasant and wearable. The bottle is overall more innocent, less weird and more conventionally pretty than the Klein vessel. Incidentally, Chiffon is Oriflame's local best-seller, alongside Elvie, and comprises a body cream and body spray deodorant in the same scent.I guess it hits upon the local desire for abstract smells (nobody desires a straight vanilla or a flat out  fruit scent) , manageable price points and a hint of sensuality in the mix.
Tuberose is almost non existent in Chiffon, it's so minimal, but then the same happens with Secret Obsession anyway. The given notes do not mention mace, though the note appears the same as it does in Secret Obsession and is indeed the individual twist which differentiates them from just any woody floriental on the shelves. In fact while comparing the notes for both perfumes what jumps up to the nose is -for once- corroborated from what appears in black on white. Proceed accordingly. Just hurry, if you want to grab a bottle for yourself, because Oriflame is also known for axing fragrances right & left.No one's perfect!

Notes for CK Secret Obsession:
Top: exotic plum, mace, rose Damascena
Heart: French orange blossom, Egyptian jasmine, tuberose, plum, woods
Base: cashmere woods (=Cashmeran, a soft, woody musk), burnt amber, Australian sandalwood

Notes for Oriflame Chiffon:
Top: plum, ylang-ylang , iris
Heart: orange blossom, tuberose, plum, cedar, patchouli
Base: white musk, sandalwood

This Month's Popular Posts on Perfume Shrine