Hermes Eau de Basilic Pourpre: fragrance review

 Hermès launched another vegetal, light, and airy fragrance in its Cologne collection in July 2022. Eau de Basilic Pourpre represents a sunny and summery Mediterranean scent, inspired by basil at a farmer's market, a very common occurrence in open air spaces in the south of Europe and temperate climate Middle Eastern countries. 

 

The composition was created by in-house perfumer Christine Nagel, who describes it as an instant burst of pleasure and freshness. Rather than imitating the scent of basil itself, the perfumer relied on her memory of a smell she once experienced and the impression she remembers.

 The fragrance of Eau de Basilic Pourpre focuses on basil's invigorating and herbal scent, combined with light touches of bergamot from Calabria, geranium (in its geraniol rosy-green-minty facets), a hint of patchouli, and warm peppery-clovey spices. Purple basil is the main ingredient, as it takes center stage in the composition.

The spicy component in Eau de Basilic Pourpre is recognizable as soon as the bottle is sprayed. It's an invigorating scent that many people smelling it identify as mint, actually, but that is probably because they cannot pinpoint accurately, over-acclimatized as they are to functional scents from toothpaste and chewing gum. Which is strange in a way, because people around the Mediterranean are well accustomed with the scent of potted basil - but there you have the poetic interpretation we were talking about stirring Nagel's imagination and creativity. The variant used or the combination of spicy notes is not immediately a thought of a basil salad and that's what makes the scent very wearable. In fact it also bonds with the rest of the heritage in that it replicates elements of the dry-down of the original 1979 Eau d'Orange Verte, (also known as Eau de Cologne Hermes); that impression of a hesperidic peel being clawed on with a cruel fingernail. Nagel plays homage, clearly. 

 

After the initial spicy jolt the scent development of Eau de Basilic Pourpre calms into a chord that recalls the classic Cologne structure with clean musk and the distinction of a floral note; in this case that's geranium, making it perfectly unisex and to most women leaning unto masculine because of the distinct lack of sweetness overall.

Luxury and the Hermessences: Fragrant Musings

Hermès has always seemed to me the height of luxury: not just a status symbol to carry around, but a brand organically grown out of that most aristocratic accoutrement, horse riding and its paraphernalia. As saddlers, Hermès have distinguished themselves in the axiom of "beauty serving functionality", a sort of van der Rohe "less is more" philosophy where every touch is truly meaningful, truly essential. Their fragrances are a reflection of this effortless luxury, diverting from bourgeois spick-and-span, and speaks of old money, not new. 

 

The fact that Réna Dumas (née Gregoriadès), architect and mother of Pierre Alexis Dumas, was of Greek extraction, alongside her pushing a Hellenic aesthetic to the brand through collaborations with artists and illustrators, has solidified this classical approach in my mind. She detested pomposity, she embraced serenity and douceur de vivre.

 

This fusion of functionality and douceur (softness) is what is also reflected in Jean Claude Ellena's work for Hermès, especially in the Hermessences, their boutique-only line of fragrances which are simple like haikus, harmonious like the Parthenon, but never simplistic, nor unnecessarily imposing. They retain a human closeness, a sort of philosophical proximity with the culture of light, a message read on the pure blue skies of a life bathed in inherent goodness.

 

The Hermessences line, essences by Hermès literally, is comprised of laconic names, often with a double entendre, focusing on unexpected facets of a given material, rather than trying to highlight its stereotypical olfactory profile. They do not rely on in-your-face exclusivity or luxury, like other designer lines, but rather a desire to explore new pathways to pleasure.

After all these years, I'm still taken with their subtlety, their grace, their effortless nod to luxury, a suspension of time. 

Hermes Un Jardin sur la Lagune: fragrance review

In old novels, in the time of Balzac and thereabouts (as I have written in detail before), or even prior to that time, there is the well-known trope of the poor relative, usually female, who receives the second hand clothes of their elders and betters in social status, with the acceptance of keen appreciation of their circumstances. Governesses, school mistresses, nurses, or beneficiaries of a small income of a few pounds or francs a year, thanks to the generosity and sense of due of an almost unknown yet benevolent antecedent. In the world of perfumes, this situation is usual and usually ignites the same condescending acceptance: "close, but no cigar; divested of the elements which make the original truly flamboyant or plush, bon pour l'Orient."

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It's with great pleasure that I found out that Un Jardin sur la Lagune by Hermes (a spring 2019 launch) is an exception to that scenario. One of my favourite and closest to heart fragrances, Lys Méditerranée by perfumer Edouard Fléchier for the niche brand of Frédéric Malle, has a little cousin; one who does not ape the greater one, nor does it deign to wear the elder's hand-me-downs, Un Jardin sur la Lagune by Hermes.

An abstract feeling of petals from flowers of another dimension, of champaca and bliss, unfolds into space like cones which embraces with arms opens wide, with the piquant joy of citrusy touches and the blissful cocoon of white musk.

In Un Jardin sur la Lagune, inspired by a secret Venetian garden which Christine Nagel, in-house perfumer for Hermes, discovered thanks to the writings of a blogger, the feeling of solace and silent contentment is palpable.

The scent of far away algae is delicate in Un Jardin sur la Lagune yet there, the salty water which hits the lonely craggy shore or the foundations of an old building immersed into the water, possesses that sort of introspection, a very humane sense of disorganisation and an ironic look on the state of the Human Condition that even Balzac would be jealous of.

Les Jardins series in the Hermes portfolio is a line of easy and lightweight fragrances which began its course in 2003 with Un Jardin sur la Méditerranée, the impression of a mediterranean garden where people nibble on freshly cut figs. Next came Un Jardin sur le Nil (2005), inspired by a trip to Assouan, in Egypt; then Un Jardin apres la Mousson (2008), evoking the watery landscape of Kerala, India, after the passing of the monsoon; Un Jardin sur le Toit (2011), inspired by the war-time garden on the terrace of the flagship Hermes boutique in Paris, and Le Jardin de Monsieur Li (2015), a minty citrus evoking a special eastern garden. 
All prior Jardin fragrances have been composed by legendary perfumer Jean Claude Ellena (an interview of whom I had the honour of taking HERE), and therefore Un Jardin sur la Lagune is Christine Nagel's first entry in the series. 

Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her: fragrance review

There are brands conceived to claim something very potent, to break with the mold of their times, and to establish themselves in the market, spawning a thousand variations on their theme in their wake. Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her is not only a sort of a pioneer (albeit indirectly), coming out in the market as a "nouveau chypre"—a modern take on the mossy "chypre" family of perfumes—but also one of its most radiant representatives: it's hard not to notice a wearer of Narciso For Her, even though the scent itself isn't particularly pungent in any of its broken-apart constituents; not too harsh, too sweet nor too bitter, it's however very noticeable and radiates for miles.

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Technically Narciso For Her is a floral woody musk, not a proper "chypre" perfume (chypres are a classic fragrance family of very perfume-y scents with a floral heart sandwiched between fresh bergamot on top and the tension of trickle-like, leather-smelling labdanum resin and mossy, inky oakmoss, from a parasite growing on oaks, in the less volatile stages of the fragrance's development) Narciso For Her instead constructs the scent on vetiver (a Far East grass with a fresh and earthy feel) and fractalized patchouli, meaning a "cleaned up" patchouli essence, manipulated in the lab to divest it of its more hippie-like facets for which the natural extract, with its dirty chocolate overtones, is famous.
The floral component in Narciso is all a fantasy of abstraction: the orange blossom and osmanthus notes are registering as an intense sweetness, but you cannot bring yourself to proclaim "this is X flower, that is Y." Fans often say it doesn't smell like perfume per se and this is its major draw.

The aromachemical Amberlyn (a variation on woody amber notes, another name for Ambrox) plus a cluster of musks supports the floralcy, but most importantly gives tremendous diffusion and lasting power, without gazing everyone in close proximity, the pitfall of many a potent fragrance. The ingenious quality of Ambrox is its ability to come into and out of focus at intervals without being perceived as anything concrete; the person wearing the scent or someone sitting close by that person isn't constantly aware of the potent aromachemical. This allows for the necessary breathing space, alongside the clean egyptian musk at the core of the Narciso For Her scent, but also the necessary time chasm that gives us license to re-appreciate a beautiful thing we have come in contact with. "Look. Turn away. Now look again." If that is the definition of a beautiful human being's impression on those who pass him/her by on the street, Narciso For Her is its analogy in scent terms; smell, now forget about it, then smell again and be charmed anew.

For a breakdown of the concentrations (eau de toilette, eau de parfum, musk oil etc) & flankers of Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her fragrance, refer to THIS GUIDE.

More Narciso Rodriguez fragrance reviews and news HERE.
Musk fragrances guide and reviews HERE.

Hermes Twilly d'Hermes: fragrance review

Perfumer Christine Nagel's style could be likened to an Italian sunset. Probably has to do with her paternal Italian side. The bleeding of the colors into the sky and the transformation of dusk into darkness could be compared with her inimitable mastery at blending luminous and bright notes into chords which resonate deeper and darker as the scent develops throughout time. You're never on a simple path with her perfumes, such as the stupendous Maboussin, the balsamic wonder of Les Larmes Sacrees de Thèbes among her limited edition perfume trio for Baccarat, or the intricately sweet Si fragrance by Giorgio Armani, and of course the stupendous Theorema by Fendi, a case study in how to make a non threatening oriental fragrance.
and there's always something to discover in the process.
I find this quality quite enjoyable in her latest creation, Twilly by Hermès, the house Nagel now acts as in-house perfumer for.

double exposure photography artwork by Antonio Mora via

Although Twilly d'Hermès possesses that optimistic flair (via its fresh citrusy opening) that people find more summery than wintery, I find that the composition veers into another direction very, very quickly thanks to the brilliant combination of fresh ginger and a floralcy which is hard to pinpoint (official sources say tuberose, but it's a totally unexpected kind of tuberose). A kaleidoscope of green, floral, and even earthy and woody nuances pass before your nostrils in quick succession, as if buoyed by the golden light of a glorious afternoon full of grace when everything seems to happily melt unto itself.

Twilly d'Hermès doesn't remind me of any other fragrance I know (which is remarkable in itself) and it's playful enough and light enough to appeal to younger women without appearing condescending in the least. Nevertheless, its very memorability lies in the delicate and rather sophisticated interweaving of fresh spiciness and carnal sensuality without recalling any particular genre: is it spicy floral? is it a citrusy woody? is it floral woody musky? It's a puzzle, but a good one.

Her last two fragrances for Hermes showcase the treatment of light and delicate juxtaposition.
Eau de Rhubarbe Ecarlate is a study in this duality, whereupon the succulent yet fresh rhubard note is envelopped in high-tech musks to give a persistent buzz like a bubblebee around nectarous blossoms. And Galop, for all its deluxe price, does not smell like it's trying too hard; a bet lost by many of the luxury segment brands nowadays, who, intent on presenting something posh, lose the golden measure and load the perfume with insurmountable heaviness. Galop, on the contrary, breathes!

Twilly increases its appeal with repeated wearings, so I suggest you give it some thorough testing before pronouncing a definitive assessment. It's young and probably not too serious in intent, but we all have our heavyweights for the days we want to immerse ourselves in existential ennui I suppose.

Fendi Theorema: fragrance review

Now that perfumer Christine Nagel is at the helm of Hermès, looking back on her work for various brands reveals her core aesthetics; at once saturated and filled with light, like a Joseph M.W. Turner painting that foreshadows what's to come, namely Impressionism. Judging by her newest Eau de Rhubarbe Ecarlate and Galop, this heftiness-shot-with-brightness continues the sun path to its natural apex.

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With Fendi's Theorema, Italian for theorem, a proposition that has been proven to be true based on previously established statements, Nagel has taken a theme and brought it into its culmination. Namely the "Oriental perfume" that feels as comforting as nibbling chocolate by the fire, while at the same time retaining the plush luxury and sophistication that a proper womanly perfume fit for the salon should exude.

Fendi's Theorema, inexplicably discontinued much too soon (at least before the brand discontinued its entire line in order to bring out the newest project on the shelves) and at least as clamored for a resurrection as Laura Biagotti's Venezia, opens with the delectable alliance of orange and chocolate. The effect of the former is apparently accounted by two unusual citruses: tangelos and thai samuti. The chocolate is folded with sweet spices, amber and warm milky woods, such as sandalwood and rosewood; there's none of the austerity that woody notes usually provide. A touch of a classic, orientalized bouquet of flowers (orange blossom, ylang ylang, jasmine) gives just a tinge of ladylike proclivities. But Theorema is too good to stay on the ladies alone...and is extremely ripe for a resurrection as well.

The Truth About Patchouli Chypres or Floral Patchoulis: Not So Recent After All

Many perfume aficionados have noticed the ubiquitness of patchouli oil in modern fragrances; either in the form of the "fruitchouli" fragrance where the dominance of patchouli is given a sweeter overlay of usually berry fruits or in the form of the "floral patchouli" which we affectionately call the "nouveau chypre" (or "pink chypre" perfume). Technically nevertheless at least the latter is not as recent as all that.

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In fact these so called patchouli "chypres" as many have suspected all along are not "true" chypres perfumes. Rather the dominance of floral notes plus patchouli and the relative lack of animal notes and musk places them in a slightly separate group which I had been meaning to tackle for a long whilte. That group however is none the less revered taking into account the many classic perfumes which are classified within it.

These floral patchouli perfumes have mainly become possible through the introduction of "luminous/transparent jasmine" in the late 1960s aka the Hedione ingredient which "reads" as fragrant lightly green air above the jasmine vine. The pliability of this material makes it the perfect bridge between the sweet medicinal-woody note of patchouli and the rest of the floral components. Indeed most of the patchouli perfumes with dominant floral elements are fitting neatly into the 1970s and 1980s slot: Diorella (1972). Aromatics Elixir (1972). Coriandre (1973). Paloma Picasso (1984). Knowing (1988).

If you think about it the "nouveau chypres" with Narciso for Her eau de toilette being in the vanguard didn't deviate much from this path. The patchouli is "cleaned" up of its darker chocolate and peppery aspects but the woodiness prevails alongside a modern Amberlyn (ambrox) base and the overlay of sweet orange blossoms; a noticeable floral component.  White Patchouli by Tom Ford also divests of the dirtier aspects of patchouli and increases the white flowers antel it's a prime example of the contemporary translation of this concept. There is also the new Aromatics in White by Clinique; fittingly a flanker to the original Aromatics Elixir perfume from the 1970s. I have noticed that the use of "white" in the name lately has taken to suggest a sizable slice of patchouli in the modern style.

In what concerns the Diorella fragrance by Dior the main chord is built around Hedione-Helional-eugenol-patchouli. The fact that Helional used in 5% quota in the formula carries an airy and watery hint with it speaks volumes; it's no coincidence that Diorella works very very well in the heat! Especially combined with the copious citrusy essences on top. Hedione 10% and cis-jasmone 2% plus natural jasmine absolute gave the richness of the classic Diorella floralcy. Rose only played a very very small part in the original composition. A hint of peachy note was possible through C14 aldehyde. The softness of that note plus the airier-watery components conspire to give an illusion of melon to our noses.

Some of the basic components in Diorella are also taken unto Aromatics Elixir by Clinique though the formula there takes a turn for the rosier and darker without pronounced citrus notes. Helional and Hedione again combine with patchouli as well as vetiver (for an enhanced earthy feel) and woody violets. The bouquet is further enhanced and "opened" with lily of the valley synthetics like the air seeps into a newly opened bottle of red wine and lets it "breathe". I always find that either Hedione or lily of the valley are the decisive "keys" with which a composition of formula unlocks its message.

I'm using the example of Aromatics Elixir to further discuss the likes of Aramis 900, Paloma Picasso and Knowing by Estee Lauder. These form a tight group of kinship. Not coincidentally the common perfumer at the helm of IFF and commissioned with the work for Lauder (Aramis and Clinique are both Lauder companies) was Bernant Chant; he of Cabochard (a more hardcore leather chypre fragrance) as well as of Aromatics Elixir and of Aramis classic for men. 

Knowing in particular is an undersung marvel and "reads" today as a very venerable authentic chypre thanks to its perfume-y powdery character. But its progeny must be traced into the floral patchoulis of the previous decade. Specifically Coriandre.

In Jean Couturier's Coriandre fragrance the key ingredient is the similarly jasminic Magnolione (comprising 20% of the formula) alongside 10%  patchouli. The rose base is founded on geranium making the trasition of Coriandre into a shared fragrance more easily imagined. The spicy top predictably includes coriander but also the intensely green "budding" note of styralyl acetate (the scent of budding gardenias) and ylang ylang. So it's again a floral aspect given a woody underlay (apart from vetiver and cedar ingredients there's also sandalwood; arguably the genuine Mysore variant back in the time of original launch of the fragrance.

The difference with Knowing is that the American taste for almondy fluffiness manifests itself via the use of heliotropin, while there is also the component of a white floral that makes its presence known: tuberose with its bubblegum facets turned up a notch.

In Paloma Picasso/Paloma Mon Parfum the perfume is saturated in castoreum which might trick us into believing we're dealing more with a hardcore chypre a la Cabochard than with a "floral patchouli" as we defined it in the introduction of this primer. But the thing with perception -and the point of this primer- is that it is influenced by context. In yesteryear's milieu perfumes like Knowing or Diorella were differentiated from the more tightly clustered classic chypres. In today's comparison with the syrupy fruities or even the "nouveau chypres" they seem like the end of the hardcore spectrum. Similarly the newer contestants to the throne appear like the emperor's new clothes whereas they form the distant relative to a long line of noble lineage.

If Francis Kurkdjian and Christine Nagel (both credited with Narciso For Her; Nagel specifically also the founder of the fruitchouli with Miss Dior Cherie) created something new, like Isaac Newton they must have seen further by standing on the shoulders of giants.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine:
Perfume Primers: Chypres for Newbies
The Chypres Series: History, Landmarks, Aesthetics, Contemporary Fragrances
Perfume Primers: Aldehydic Florals for Beginners
Chanel No.19: Woody Floral or Green Chypre?

"Perfume does not have a function. It's more than a function. It's not necessary. It's not particularly useful."

Thus presents the aphorism perfumer Jean Claude Ellena. And Christine Nagel, co-head perfumer at Hermes perfume development, quips: "It's impossible to wear a perfume that you don't like. If you took more time to smell people rather than looking at them you would understand them better. If you took the time to do that."

A very interesting interview of both Jean Claude Ellena and Christine Nagel is uploaded on the NY Mag on this link by Kathleen Hou. They explain how we can't be with people whose smell we don't like, whether Hermes soap is superior to all the other soap around, how marketing and perfumery work in weaving fragrant stories and how the two perfumers have almost fallen in love...with each other's work that is. Read on for interesting insights.

The Different Company Une Nuit Magnetique: fragrance review

“But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.”
― Stephen King, 'Salem's Lot'

Even though the temperatures are nowhere close to bringing out the woolen-patch jodhpurs, the heavy jumpers and the nautical pea-coat I associate with a chair by the fire, I have played with a little light, merino wool scarf these past few crisp early mornings before the sun would rise high on the sky making me tie it on my purse's handle. Sprayed with The Different Company's latest launch, Une Nuit Magnetique, felt indeed like an old friend that I had missed. In more ways than one.

Une Nuit Magnetique by The Different Company looks dense and heavy on paper, as floral orientals sometimes do, but becomes a warm alcove of ambery woods on the skin, no rough edges, no hyper-sexualized dirty tricks. It bears the signature style of plush yet lightweight compositions for which its composer, the perfumer Christine Nagel, is acclaimed for. The sensuality of the cozier notes is unmistakeable, never cloying, a transparent "oriental" chord built on benzoin and rose with quite a bit of musk and a hint of what feels like the famous Prunol base, that enveloping material that gives a sort of raisin and mulled-in-sweet-wine plums tinge to so many classic masterpieces, from Rochas Femme to Shiseido/Serge Lutens Feminite du Bois, and on to modern iterations (see Mon Parfum Cheri par Camille by the brand of Annick Goutal where it's coupled with a very strong patchouli note). However the character of Une Nuit Magnetique remains ultimately undecipherable, despite the familiarity, almost an enemy to parsing.

I have just published a full review on Fragrantica on this link.

Fragrance notes for TDC Une Nuit Magnetique: 
Top: ginger, bergamot and blueberry;
middle: Egyptian jasmine, Turkish rose, tuberose and plum;
base: benzoin, patchouli, amber, musk and woody notes.

Hermes To Change Guard: Jean Claude Ellena Welcomes Christine Nagel to Join Him at Parfums Hermes

Hermès officially announces something that was in the works for a little while: the arrival of a sidekick perfumer to help Hermès home perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena. That perfumer to come is none other than Christine Nagel, formerly Vice President at the Fine Fragrance Department of Mane aroma production company. Her new role at Hermès will involve developing new projects, alongside Jean Claude Ellena and she will continue to assume the creation and affirmation of the olfactive style of Hermès, starting March 2014.

It doesn't take much to realize that ~as we had suspected~ Jean-Claude, much like Jacques Polge before him, only just recently, is smoothing the way to a seamless transition that will find Christine Nagel his successor at the head of perfume creation chez Hermès. Usually this is a process that requires at least a couple of years, typically around three, which brings on nicely the solitary tenure of Jean-Claude to a solid 10 years, taking into consideration he started his unique course at Hermès back in 2004.

Catherine Fulconis, President of Hermès Parfums relays to us: "With the arrival of Jean Claude Ellena in 2004, Hermès opened uncharted territories. Ten years later we enrich our story with a beautiful new encounter. We share with Pierre-Alexis Dumas, artistic director at Hermès  the conviction that Christine Nagel will know how to put her personality and her talent at the service of authoring new pages in our opus at Hermes."

According to Nagel, "A composer is an interpreter who masters a technique, a kind of a sponge that can soak up the universe around. Whether that is a designer, a jeweler, an artist…"
Jean Claude himself reveals "The choice of Christine is an obvious one. The time that opens up is one of sharing, of freedom and of differentiating."

Jean Claude Ellena himself isn't hiding the fact that at least as far back as 2003 he had been favoring Christine Nagel as a talent to watch out for (let's remember her trilogy for Baccarat, Les Larmes Sacrées de Thebes, Un Certain été en Livadia, Une Nuit Etoilée au Bengale, alongside Eau de Cartier, Histoire d'Eau for Maboussin, Theorema for Fendi, 2000 et Une Rose for Lancome, Miss Dior Cherie, Lyra for Alain Delon, Spazio by Krizia, Memoire d'Homme by Ricci, the Guerlain Carnal Elixirs, co-creating Narciso for Her and recently her work for Armani Si, plus she is the recipient of numerous awards). Neither French (nor Grasseoise), born in Geneva by a Swiss father and an Italian mother, Nagel had been Jean Claude's protégée for some time. In an industry that still works in terms of family ties, the apprenticeship angle is a more honest and direct one.

Bonne chance à vous, madame Nagel!

Giorgio Armani Si: fragrance review

It wouldn't be inaccurate to claim that Sì, the latest feminine fragrance by Giorgio Armani, is L'Oreal's (the parent company of Armani parfums) answer to the commercial success of Lancôme's La Vie Est Belle from the previous year. Both are competent but rather forgettable perfumes that are sure to capture and retain the demographic they're aimed at: 35-50 year old women seeking something a little more sophisticated than the average fruity floral at department stores, while still not shocking anyone with their limp-wristed, yet persistent, wake of scent.

They're the Empire State Building rather than the strikingly asymmetrical Reykjavík’s Harpa Concert Hall & Conference Center. The tousled hair rom-com heroine rather than Irene Dunne. And a predictably lyrical novel that reads like a self-help book by Paulo Coelho rather than Orhan Pamuk. No, strike the last aphorism out: the fragrances in question are not Coelho-bad, surely!

Several small details point to the correlation between the two scents, Sì and La vie est belle. I mean.
The blackcurrant top note revisits a theme that was forgotten for long (First by Van Cleef & Arpels brought it into the scene and it's famously giving the piquancy in niche cult L'Ombre Dans l'Eau by Diptyque). They share a small fruity lactonic chapter (reminiscent of peach and pear). They both are buttressed by the familiar contemporary patchouli with woody-smelling Iso E Super and musks, plus a cotton candy vanilla note that -especially in the Lancome fragrance- instantly references Angel to anyone's mind. In Sì, the feel of a nouveau chypre (see our article for more on those) is enhanced by a cosmetics-smelling chord that is feminine and subtly intimate: the rosy note is simply put buoyed by soft, powdery violets like in many lipsticks and face powders.
Giorgio Armani's Sì is less sweet overall, with a drier, less cushion-like ambience. The cleaned-up feel and powdery abstraction recall segments of Knowing, a forgotten 1980s perfume by Estée Lauder. As per the perfumer, Christine Nagel of Mane, the base of Armani Sì includes Orcanox, which is another name for Ambroxan or Ambrofix (an aromachemical with an abstract woody-ambery scent aiming to recall natural ambergris), that gives great diffusion and tenacity to modern fragrances; indeed this Armani is one of them.

The official fragrance notes for Guorgio Armani Sì include blackcurrant, freesia, rose, vanilla, patchouli, blond woods, orcanox.

The choice of actress extraordinaire Cate Blanchett as the fronting woman for Armani's latest fragrance ("Cate Blanchett says Sì" -i.e. "yes" in Italian- is the motto of the campaign) has created the expectation of something truly exceptional and smart, like she is herself -the modern equivalent of Katherine Hepburn. Maybe the stakes were just too high. Sì just couldn't possibly live up to it or the "chypre reinvented" perfumista-nod on top of this. That doesn't mean it's not a pleasant fragrance; you could do much worse in the department store circuit, I'd wager.
Lovely bottle (in 1, 1.7 and 3.4oz of eau de parfum at major department stores), reminiscent of the Armani Privé perfume bottles aesthetic, a nice bonus.

Below, watch the official film for Giorgio Armani Sì (rather uninspired if you ask me, though beautifully shot by director Anne Fontaine) and a small interview with Christine Nagel where she explains the fundamental blocks of the perfume composition.

What Scents Do Perfumers Wear?

“I wear the fragrances I am creating. My skin is my work instrument. When I have the time to wear some fragrances, I like to smell of Féminité du bois or Ambre Sultan by Serge Lutens, or some of my earlier creations for Jo Malone London like English Pear & Freesia.” So says perfumer Christine Nagel, "creator of  Narciso Rodriguez for Her (with Francis Kurkdjian), and several blockbusters including Miss Dior Chérie and Dolce & Gabbana The One for Her, before moving in-house at Jo Malone London to put her unique spin on the company’s traditional blooms" as per one article appearing on Australian Vogue.

 Most perfumers and people professionally involved in fragrances do not wear perfumes on their own skin as a matter of course or when working, so as not to get distracted. Yet sometimes they do indulge in their own creations (to better gauge them), the odd classic or two an aside, or at least they're saying so to bring more attention to their work. Francis Kurkdjian, Olivier Cresp, Daniela Andrier, Anne Flipo, Fabrice Penot of Le Labo, Erwin Creed, Frédéric Malle, Romano Ricci of Juliette Has a Gun, and François Demachy (head perfumer for Dior) share their secrets with the readers of Australian Vogue. Read the whole article on this link.

Jo Malone Tea Collection: fragrance reviews

Henry James wrote "There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as an afternoon tea." There are indeed few indulgences more easily satisfying than warming my hands on a hot gàiwǎnof aromatic tea on a cold and gloomy day; letting the steam of clove-laced tea rise and dissipate in front of my eyes at a tea salon waiting for friends to arrive for an afternoon snack (my favourite is in the elegantly historic Grande Bretagne hotel, Athens); or sipping jasmine tea with mint on my verandah in the hours when the sun is setting into the sea in summer, an orange disk sizzling -as I imagine- as it meets the blue waters.

The new Tea Collection by Jo Malone promised to ignite at least some of those memories at the spritz of an elegant sparse bottle: In part it delivers, while in other parts there are some elements left to be desired, but this portfolio composed by perfumer Christine Nagel. "The ceremony of tea is a timeless, simple and authentic practice, but in relation to fragrance, surprising and original” says Nagel.


The overall character of the Limited edition Tea Collection is one of light, diffusive fragrances which rely on a somewhat simplistic composition, meant to be used for layering or to satisfy a specific craving for ambient music to one's nose; typically Jo Malone concept. In short, if you prefer the more baroque formula of Five o' clock au Gingembre by Lutens or L'Artisan's Tea for Two with its smoky, tarry undercurrent, these tea scents by Jo Malone might prove to be too transparent, lacking the robust character you seek. But if you want refreshing and -sometimes- cuddly spritzes to lift your spirits on a day that just doesn't go the way you wanted it to go, they're easy and mood-altering scents that might fit the bill.

The Jo Malone Tea Collection includes 5 fragrances:
Assam & Grapefruit,
Earl Grey & Cucumber,
Sweet Milk,
Sweet Lemon,
Fresh Mint Leaf

To beging from the bottom up, Sweet Lemon as well as Fresh Mint Leaf are extra refreshing formulae, meant to be savoured best on a hot summer day, respectively emphasizing the properties of sweet-sour contrasts in the rind of lemon and the fuzziness of peaches; and the piquant, slightly spicy (peppery basil) note that is as cool as a Wringley mint gum respectively. I would suspect that paired with the bright and lively Roses in the Jo Malone line that latter Fresh Mint Leaf would make a killer masculine combination or one which more adventurous females might investigate for warm weather wearing.

Assam & Grapefuit is a pleasurable twist on the tarry aroma of black tea under the naturally sulfurous qualities of grapefruit: If cult classic Pamplelune has always impressed you with its realistic grapefruit aroma, but you were wary of the sweaty aspects it might project, Assam & Grapefruit provides a bit of that sting without the humiliation of not knowing if you're offensive to others. The pairing of malty-smelling tea with citric notes is a given, the fruit making the aromatic notes rise to the surface. Which is why Earl Grey tea is such a success too (to the point that it's a pop reference in Star Trek): the bergamot oils used to flavour it bring an aesthetic rounding of its notes into a tune as melodic as one coming from an harp! In Jo Malone's Earl Grey & Cucumber however the balance of a classic blend is tilted and the resulting effect is quite intriguing: The flavour of a good bergamot-laced Earl Grey is there but the freshness here comes not by citrus as would have been expected, but via aquatic notes, masquerading as "cucumber" (and I suspect violet leaves too, as in Fresh's Baies & Cucumber). The reference of course is the famous cucumber sandwiches which are served by the British accompanying a hot tea cup. It's an excellent example of how context makes all the difference, as the bergamot note takes on an almost sensual role amidst the watery freshness of the fragrance formula.
Warm Milk on the other hand, although predictable (it's exactly what its name suggests, a soft-core sort of tea with condensed milk to take to bed and cuddle up) is pleasurable, definitely a skin scent and very long lasting. It's probably what most lovers of light gourmands or light woodies would gravitate to!

Perhaps what's missing from such a quintessentially British brand (though bought out by Lauder in recent years) is a "London Fog" fragrance: bergamot laced tea notes alongside warm milkiness and a hint of vanilla syrup. The building blocks are already in the lab, all that's left is for them to cut the deck once more!

Notes for Jo Malone Assam & Grapefruit:
Top notes: grapefruit, violet, rhubarb
Heart: Assam tea, rose, cardamom
Base: patchouli, musk, almond
Notes for Jo Malone Earl Grey & Cucumber:
Top notes: bergamot, apple, jasmine, water notes
Heart: angelica, cucumber, davana
Base: beeswax, vanilla, cedar and musk
Notes for Jo Malone Sweet Lemon:
Top notes: lemon, bergamot, rhubarb
Heart: pineapple, freesia, peach
Base: cypress, musk, cedar

Notes for Jo Malone Fresh Mint Leaf:
Top notes: basil, mint, bergamot
Heart: water jasmine, rhubarb
Base: mate, musk, cedar
Notes for Jo Malone Warm Milk:
Top notes: star anise, heliotrope, bergamot
Heart: milk, caramel
Base: vanilla, almond, musk

Available at Jo Malone counters in 30ml/1oz bottles, extremely limited edition (grab them while they're hot!), from March 2011.

top pic via le petit ogre

Jo Malone launches new line, English Pear & Freesia new fragrance

Some years after being sold to the Lauder Group, Jo Malone, the doyenne of prim British elegance in skincare and fragrancing, is set to launch a new line of fragrances, seemingly under the creative aegis of perfumer Christine Nagel. Jo, now 46, sold her company to Estée Lauder in 1999 in what can only be described as the “deal of a lifetime” (figure is rumoured to be £5 million) for the high-school drop-out who is self-professedly "seriously dyslexic". She stayed on in a creative capacity, but in 2003 Jo was diagnosed with breast cancer which necessitated chemotherapy and some serious focusing on her own life. Now, healthy and strong again, she's back in business! Her next venture, another foray into the fragrance market that remains tightly under wraps for now ~well, not anymore~ will start as the first one did at the dining-room table: "“I gave my clients little bottles of home-made nutmeg and ginger bath oil as a thank you” says Malone recounting her first attempts at fragrance creation for her facials clients who were clamouring for setting an appointment with her and her magic fingers.

The first installment in this new fragrance collection, which will be spanning the next two years, will be English Pear & Freesia, for which Christine Nagel describes the note that she wanted to capture, as "the fragrance of a King William pear just before it becomes over-ripe. The intention was to capture the smell of the fruit when it was sweet but still crisp, not too green and sharp but not sugary and soft". To boost the effect there are also notes of freesia, quince and a subtle hint of patchouli. Pear too timid to take center stage? More like a technical issue, really, taking in mind pear notes usually come from the flavouring side of the industry.

"It's unusual for a pear to take centre stage in a fragrance*, but the essence of English Pear & Freesia is a complex and quintessentially autumnal pear note. My challenge was in recreating the scent of a pear at that moment of perfect ripeness" says Nagel. Apparently, the September launch isn't random. It is John Keats and his immortal "To Autumn" ode that has served as an inspiration behind the new fragrance. No wonder the launch took place to Hampstead and Keats' house. [source]
Alexis Wolfer already characterises English Pear & Freesia as "delicious and mixes well with many other Jo scents!"

More info soon at Jo Malone online.

*Two that do are Lamb by G.Stefani and Petite Cherie by Annick Goutal.

C.Nagel quotes via Basenotes
Photos via luirig.altervista.org and deliciousmagazine.co.uk

Lancome Hypnose Senses: fragrance review

There comes a time when something pleasant is mercilessly called out for what it is: a derivative! This is one such time and I have no regrets for calling a spade a spade. The newest Hypnôse Senses by Lancôme is a perfectly all right fragrance in every respect: From the dusty pink tones of the advertising images fronted by Daria Werbowy, to the actual juice, which smells lighter and pleasantly woodier than the standard sugary Hypnôse of 2005 to which it is a flanker. But what possessed them to replicate the formula of Coco Mademoiselle, one of Chanel's greatest best-sellers? Probably that last bit...

It was during my lazy strolling through Sephora the other day aiming for a tube of Yves Saint Laurent's exquisite mascara Faux Cils in some shade other than black (was hoping to locate Prune which is subtler than black, but more interesting than brown) that I literally bumbed into the new displays of the just-launched fragrance, up on a pedestral for casual shoppers to spritz and (hopefully) buy. My suprise must have been evident on my face as a young sales assistrant accosted me thinking I was inspired into a purchase. Sadly for her, no... It was the surprise of déjà vu!

The official blurb talks about "sensorial femininity", "a perfume with a playful sensuality, a hymn to the lightness of being" which would produce a ‘second skin’ feel, thanks to a spare and luminous interpretation of the chypre accord; a message that is well communicated through the visual cues given, both in the flesh-coloured liquid within the diaphanous bottle reprising the classic design of Magie, as well as the soft-focus advertising images; something tells me that the chromatic choice was primarily focused on an already mapped out advertising that would be anchored in "nude" colours. After all Hypnôse Senses just debuted and if the make-up and fashions directions for the hot summer are anything to go by, then this could be the only explanation. The structure is of chypre floral (register this as a "nouveau chypre", click the link for more information, which usually means a floral woody in fact with patchouli and/or vetiver base), composed by perfumers Christine Nagel, Ursula Wandel and Nathalie Feisthauer.

Hypnôse Senses opens on a richly citrusy and fruity note which immediately takes sweeter and powdery hues thanks to the swift repurcusions of vanillic and coumarinic balsams from the echoeing bottom (benzoin and tonka)with what I perceive as a hint of blond tobacco. The chord throughout is competently made with the usual feel of modern chypres, a perfumey composition that has a vague earthiness beneath the floral accents, like the reminder of warm clothes taken off at the end of the day; a honeyed silkiness over more austere elements. Like I said, it's well made, no doubt, but since Coco Mademoiselle is already successfully positioned and with no fear of discontinuation, what's the point besides repetition for repetition's sake?Lancôme have some older treasures in their hands, such as the fabulastically and most elegantly named Kypre, they could have exploited them. My sympathies to the renowned perfumers...

Notes for Lancôme Hypnôse Senses :
mandarin orange, pink pepper, osmanthus blossom, rose, honey, patchouli, cistus labdanum/rockrose, benzoin and tonka bean

Hypnôse Senses is available in 30, 50 and 75 ml bottles of Eau de Parfum in major department stores.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Lancome scents news & reviews, Chypre series



Pic via media.onsugar.com, Painting Deja vuBy Ramaz Razmadze via gm.iatp.org.ge

Guerlain Gourmand Coquin, Chypre Fatal, Oriental Brulant: fragrance reviews and musings

Like probably half the female population of the affluent West with about 40 minutes to kill on a winter's week evening ~nails filed at advertising breaks~ I used to watch the comedic escapades of four women on the verge of breakdown (which rarely resulted in stylistic mishaps) as they struted their proud frames along the avenues of Manhattan in Sex & the City.
In the last season's finale Carrie, the marginally emancipated singleton with a shoe fixation, abandonds her beloved New York for Paris to follow her Russian "lovah" who happens to be an artist. Eager to explore the mystique of Paris she dreams of drinking dark-roasts and smoking Gitanes where Sartre smoked, read under the trees in Boulevard Saint-Germain and live the life of a woman in love in the city of romanticism. In view of all that, she mysteriously doesn't go after perfumes (what??) or Lucien Pellat Finet but rather chooses to slip and fall on her face in the Dior boutique instead, which begs the question: do the French wax their marbles to a slippery shine? Ruining her shoes stepping into poo and having a young kid stick her tongue out at her are the reality checks of the god of small things. Suffice to say Paris doesn't really prove like she hoped it would be and in a Dorothy-out-of-Oz conclusion she retraces her path back to Mr.Big who "rescues" her and to the Big Apple.

Guerlain is like the emblematic Paris in the mind of a fragrance fanatic: if it's not good there, it can't be good anywhere. Or so we're led to think. And what do they do about that, you ask? Lately they often present us with the glowing facade of shinning marble to let us fall flat on our face on the disillusionment of shattered expectations with no poo note in there to soften the blow.

Their new trio Elixirs Charnels (Carnal Elixirs) in marshmallow shades have appeared on the horizon of exclusive ~aka expensive~ launches that have otherwise sane people salivating with the anticipation of exquisite rare pearls of non pareil spherical shape to realise that for all their pretty veneer they hide a somewhat lackluster core, chipped by nails that will handle them repeatedly. The idea of perfumer Christine Nagel and artistic director Sylvaine Delacourte of women choosing roles according to moods helps intrigue the consumer, subliminally hinting that they might serve variable purposes; which is exactly the good ole' concept of a "fragrance wardrobe". Nevertheless, although they pose as contrasting personae (the playful woman-child, the icy femme fatale of a Hitchcokian thriller or the hyper-hormoned bombshell that bursts at the seams) they more or less offer a similarly tame exposition of feminine pleasantry. Well-made technically and very approachable, they part ways with Guerlain's older classics being resolutely modern and instantly appealing. Are they sexy? Let's not forget Chris Sheldrake's quote: "In our industry, 'bedroom smell' means the sensuality of jasmine, a powdery, musky soft entity - something that makes the wearer comfortable - and with a comfortable smell that pleases. It means not too violet or too rose or too animalic or too mossy." Let's repeat: not too violet or too rose or...etc.

Gourmand Coquin reprises the caramellic tonalities of Spiritueuse Double Vanille with less depth, possibly with a burnt cotton-candy note more than anything else bringing it close to Aquolina's Pink Sugar and L'artisan's Vanilia. Sweet is as sweet does and I predict this fluffy confectionary pastry that has no bitterness of Valhrona chunks, but only milky lappings of ganache (but less than Iris Ganache) will become very popular.

Chypre Fatal is poised in the venerable cloak of chypre bearing the burden of fatality when the most it could do would be to slap you with the peeled skin of a peach. Not exactly in the mould of modern chypres à la Narciso Rodriguez (which Nagel co-authored) ~those are rather woodies with sanitized patcouli notes~ but not a classic chypre either, Chypre Fatal takes fruitiness into the realm of a clean, if unexciting, musky scent that can be effortlessly worn by even the most meak. This kitten purrs rather than hisses.

Oriental Brûlant is the one closer to the orientalia tradition of Guerlain, if only because it contains that ambery powdery Woofer surround that is the trademark of a recognisably erotic fragrance, in which the French house has excelled for so long. It also manages to smell at once comforting and confident with its hazy almondy tonalities and a silken thread of cool that ties it to Ambra del Nepal by I Profumi di Firenze and Ambre Fétiche by Goutal, as well as the attractive interplay between cool and warm facets of Sonia Rykiel Women- not for men! Oriental Brûlant might not be terribly innovative, but it's quite fetching! Try to forget the advertising scenario and picture it as a personal amulet on days of torpor.

Ultimately, Guerlain's Carnal Elixirs, much like that season finale showed, prove that not everything is as you expect it. And in the end, that's "Abso-fuckin'-lutely" OK.

Official notes:
Gourmand Coquin notes: black pepper, rose, rum, chocolate.
Chypre Fatal notes: white peach, rose, patchouli, vanilla.
Oriental Brûlant notes: clementine, almond, tonka beans, vanilla.

Guerlain Carnal Elixirs are currently available in Eau de Parfum oblong bottles of 75 ml at 165 € via La Maison Guerlain, 68 Avenue des Champs-Elysées, Paris or Begdrof Goodman in New York.

Pic of Sarah Jessica Parker courtesy of HBO. Bottle pics via Le critique du parfum.