Dolce Eau de Parfum by Dolce & Gabbana: fragrance review

One could be excused for getting all dreamy eyed and nostalgic à la Nuovo Cinema Paradiso upon watching the latest commercial by Dolce & Gabbana for their feminine fragrance launch, Dolce eau de parfum. They could be excused for erupting in twirly pirouettes filled with longing at the sight of the super pretty bottle, its flower cap, its grosgrain bow, its retro typeface. But what one can't possibly excuse is getting worked up over the fragrance of Dolce by Dolce & Gabbana itself, because, frankly, it's so programmatically "not"-so-many-things that it gets very hard to describe it.

It's not really floral, despite the ad copy and the images of orange groves in full bloom. Not indolic-smelling, which comes hand in hand with white flower fragrances. Not woody either. Nor citrusy. Not particularly feminine if your notion of femininity is not terribly challenged by a particular philosophic system of which I am not accountable for. Not anything special in the fresh fragrance slot. Not distinctive, not unique by any stretch of the imagination. Not offensive either, but that's damning it with faint praise.

"Neroli leaves" (come again?), papaya flower, white amaryllis, narcissus, white water lily, sandalwood. Where are all these things?

A clean, lightly aqueous neroli scent with a faint musky underpinning that won't get you noticed even if your life depended on it, Dolce eau de parfum projects "meh-shampoo" in a me-too-pool of similar scents for women afraid to use fragrance with any conviction. It could just be the perfect culmination of a product that looks like a perfume but doesn't perform like one for our crazy times. Even if destined to the very young or the very inexperienced, there is nothing in Dolce eau de parfum of the flush of daring and defiance that a truant teenager might indulge into, swiftly exchanging her smart pants and sweater for a cut off blouse and heels in secret at the ante-room of her house to go out with the hip crowd of her school. It's also so faint for an eau de parfum to make one seriously doubt their nose. If this gets released in eau de toilette there will be someone doing a cartoonish, evil laugh all the way to the bank, because they might as well be selling plain water for all the dilution.

So why am I even bothering to review it, you ask?

Simple. It's the first original release by the Italian brand that is not a flanker or re-issue in what feels like eons. I'm susceptible. I love Italian style.

Additionally, I can be excused for feeling a pang of what Swedes call 'smultronställe' , literally a wild strawberry patch, but figuratively a sentimentally laden spot returned to for solace, an escape from sadness.  Sicily is Dolce & Gabbana's spot. My own smultronställe has been orange groves in full bloom from my childhood like the ones shown in the romantic commercial for Dolce eau de parfum. I might be excused for seeking them into a bottle of fragrance advertised with exactly those images in neorealist style and nostalgic color saturation…

A really wasted chance, if you ask me. Bring back Sicily. 

Best Green, Leafy Violets & Watery Crystal Violet Fragrances (Violet Series)

A dew drop resting atop a deep-hued petal, its violet shade reflected and refracted in a thousand tiny facets, like scattered confetti through a kaleidoscope. Moisture makes for an enhanced experience of scent and dewy violets are such a psychedelic image that the fragrances inspired by them are sure to put a growl in your motor.

This is part of Perfume Shrine's Violet Series perfume articles focusing on violets-laced fragrances in all their nuances, so if you missed previous posts, take a minute to consult Violet, Violet Leaf & Ionones (for an essay on the perfumery materials), Best Soft Powdery Violet Fragrances and Best Woody, Earthy Violet Fragrances. Or just skip right down to the suggestions for leafy, green violets with an upbeat, contemporary take.

via basenotes

Today we're zooming into scents which take violet as a point of departure to evoke a more "naturalistic" impression whereupon violet is never without the foliage it is surrounded by and the leaves of the plant render their own dewy, somewhat metallic tonality; a very popular effect in unisex and masculine fragrances (especially in the modern fougere genre). Rather than the retro powdery (close to iris) or earthy note of the violet flower and its roots, violet leaves lend an unusual freshness, not to mention unlike the flowers they can be successfully extracted, which creates endless possibilities for modern, transparent but persistent fragrances. This is also thanks to the coupling of violet leaf absolute with synthetic musks and aromachemicals mimicking cedarwood, such as Iso E Super, or ambergris, such as Ambrox. Here is a personal selection. Feel free to add your own in the comments.

Green Violet Leaves Fragrances

Dior Fahrenheit (classic fougere)
Frederic Malle Dans tes Bras (with a salty skin effect)
Jean Charles Brosseau Fleurs d'Ombre Violette Menthe (green mint suffuses violets in freshness)
Les Nez The Unicorn Spell (with a fresh green beans note up top, but satisfying and polished)
L'Artisan Parfumeur Verte Violette (quite green & clean with an inedible quality, halfway between damp and dry)
Santa Maria Novella Violetta (with a citrus top note)

Yosemite Valley at Night, Yosemite National Park, USA, by Phil Hawkins

Crystal-clear, Aqueous Violet Fragrances

Balenciaga L'Essence (perfect for the office)
Cartier L'Eau de Cartier (a clean musky style fragrance with a dewy effect)
DSquared She Wood (a clear, transparent violet with cedar)
Marc Jacobs Violet (very light splash)

Stay tuned for your upcoming part of the Violet Series tackling Sweet, Candied Violet Perfumes.

Andree Putman Preparation Parfumee: fragrance review

Andrée Putman's fragrance is not easy to review, exactly because it eschews traditional classification, much like the acclaimed designer opted to for her work as well. From home interiors to furniture to tableware, her work is sans pareil. It was only natural that her eponymous fragrance would be too; an aqueous woody with a different feeling of freshness than the screechy scratch of "marines", at a time of launch (2001) a mini revolution. Doubly so if one considers for a moment that it was she who was responsible for the renovation of the flagship Guerlain boutique at Champs-Elysées in 2005, replete with the luminous chandeliers which refract light in a million rays. Her eponymous perfume bears absolutely no relation with a classic Guerlain!

via habituallychic.blogspot.com

Damp woods are harmoniously paired to spices and refined notes reminiscent of dewy stems and petals in Preparation Parfumée; more of a protective amulet than a potion of seduction, as evidenced by the name too (i.e. scented preparation) The Andrée Putman fragrance was composed by Olivia Giacobetti, a perfumer known for her transparent, limpid accords and her quirky, individual style ~as showcased in Premier Figuier (1994), Drôle de Rose (1995), Thé Pour Un Eté (1996), Philosykos (1996), L’Eau du Fleuriste (1997), Navegar (1998), Dzing! (1999), Passage d'Enfer (1999), Hiris (1999), Tea for Two (2000), Essence of John Galliano, En Passant (2000) or Thé des Sables (2001). The building up to Preparation Parfumée Andrée Putman (2001) bears olfactory kinship with another perfume composed by Giacobetti, Navegar for L'Artisan Parfumeur, a scent of blanched pebbles and driftwood on a river's delta. No wonder that Putman OK-ed the austere and economical use of a few elements to convey a potent message; it was she who had famously said: "I love America, and I love American women. But there is one thing that deeply shocks me - American closets. I cannot believe one can dress well when you have so much."

Preparation Parfumée begins with a spicy top note that reminds me of bay leaves and their oil, although I know they are not listed, that slightly bittersweet & hot eugenol-rich spice that we use in lentils soup. The fragrance however is not heavy nor strong, never a singeing feeling. Then along with that a very aqueous accord follows retaining the earthy smell of petrichor for a long long time. It reminds me of wood branches washed on the shore of a river of gigantic proportions after a storm, drenched in mud and bog water. This earthy, elemental force is fundamental to its appeal. Rather than mountains and forests, due to lack of the resinous quality I associate with those, this image creates another kind of serenity.

Would that be a scent to dampen one's spirits though with all its damp wood and such? It depends….It’s not “pretty” for sure , neither “elegant” and "feminine" in the traditional sense, but it retains an air of mystery and nostalgic quality for those friendly to introspection.

Guerlain Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus: fragrance review

Take a room that appears goldenish baroque in its ambience, but actually comprised of little, aptly chosen, dramatic furniture and saturate it in the cool and bright light of the North on a salubrious day and you have the latest Guerlain, Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus. Tentatively smelling it, convinced I'd absolutely hate it, it gave me the testing whiplash of my life: It isn't half bad! Aesthetically it is as successful in its modernisation as Eau Première is to the iconic Chanel No.5 (I wish I could say that for the latest Cristalle Eau Verte).

The introduction of a Mitsouko flanker, and what's more a watery Mitsouko in a mouthwash-tinted bottle, initially sounded as mind-numbingly sacrilegious as Regan impaling herself with a crucifix in one of the most brilliant scenes of William Friedkin's 1973 thriller "The Exorcist" would look to the Pope. However Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus reminds me of another William Friedkin heroine, this one more mature, sexier and tamer than the possessed child Regan; namely, Trina Gavin in 1995 "Jade". Not exactly Ai-no Corrida material, the passions are contained, but still an involving character.

The original Mitsouko by Jacques Guerlain launched in 1919 at a time when women rediscovered luxury and all things Eastern and it subtly unveils its peachy-fuzz chypre heart amidst a spicy, smoky mossiness that creates the feeling of decadent and, at the same time, wistful opulence. Jean Paul Guerlain rightfully decided not to mess up with perfection and merely injected an airier lotus blossom note which uplifts and mollifies the composition into a brighter, lighter plane.

“Mitsouko is really a masterpiece,” says Jean-Paul.[1] “I did not want to betray my grandfather’s, so I added a freshness to the scent with spices and white musk to give a modernity to it without changing the original scent.”

Jean Paul Guerlain is according to Thierry Wasser (new resident nose at Guerlain) "the Indiana Jones of fragrance" [2], such is his galivanting the world in search of new and exciting raw materials; and lotus blossom is a traditional essence of the East which seemed very fitting to what is essentially an Eastern inspired composition in the first place.
After the initial acqueous and rather green jasmine-like impression the unmistakeable palpability of Mitsouko comes through while the progression surprisingly takes Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus into more hesperidic (the lotus), cooly powdery tonalities (some cardamom?) with a slight sprinkling of clean sweeteness instead of the butyric lactonic richness and almost burnt peachiness of the original. And since the classic Mitsouko can be worn by men too, I see no real problem in the newest version being co-operative on a man's skin if they generally like softer fragrances. Be prepared for a short-lived experience however: The lasting power is nowhere near the tenacity of the classic in either of its concentrations.

If you love the original Mitsouko enough, the new Fleur de Lotus variant seems like a redundancy. If you do not, it is doubtful whether you will find something seismically different that would make you do a 180 degree turn. As March put it: "You can hear the right chords being played, but they’re in the background. Somewhere down the hall, but still there. I wouldn’t say, precisely, that it honors the original, but it doesn’t diminish it, either.". Nevertheless, people who might have objected to either the latest botched reformulated Mitsouko with its bread-like top note and its long finish of treemoss instead of oakmoss, or people who longed for a twist in the classic recipe like one less olive, one dash of vermouth less in their martini glass, might find in Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus a fragrance to successfully claim as their own. For my vintage collecting self it simply isn't a necessity, which affirms the thought that this is an attempt to grab new audiences, not established ones.

Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus is available in 60ml/2oz bottles of Eau de Toilette, whose design reprises the classic inverted heart bottle with a degradée of bright blue-ish shades and a white label. It retails for $100 at Guerlain boutiques exclusively and Saks Fifth Avenue NYC, Bergdorf Goodman NYC, Waldorf Astoria, Neiman Marcus at San Francisco, The Bellagio at Las Vegas, the Epcot Center at Orlando and The Breakers at Palm Beach.

One sample will be given to a lucky reader! State your interest at the comments, draw open till Friday midnight.


Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain series, flankers, Chypre series.

[1]Quote via Vanity Fair [2]Interview of Wasser and JPGuerlain at Wallpaper.
Pic of Linda Fiorention from the 1995 William Friedkin film "Jade" via L'internaute