Guerlain Atuana: fragrance review and history of a vintage gem

If in the darkest moments of our urban stress we want to eschew European civilization and "everything that is artificial and conventional" to sail to the tropics instead in our own path to Utopia, Atuana by Guerlain could be our gateway without abandoning the indulgencies of the way of life we have become accustomed to. Atuona (and not Atuana) is the name of a small island in the Marquesas where French Post-Impressionist painter Eugène Henri Paul Gauguin(1848-1903) moved from his former residence in Tahiti and where he died in his Maison du Jouir on May 9, 1903, having spent a total of ten years in self-exile in French Polynesia.
In 1952 Jacques Guerlain dedicated Atuana the fragrance to the French painter who went to the South Seas to devote his time and life to painting. After all, he was not the only one to be inspired by the iconoclast broker agent-turned-painter: Noa Noa (after Gauguin's text describing a luminous season in Tahiti in 1891) was another fragrance redolent of the warm and fiery ambience of the tropics, circulating under Helena Rubinstein's name at the zenith of her career.

Inspired by the lush colourful Primitivist paintings by Gaugin with their red splashes among the green folliage and the ambery-toned flesh of the native women, Guerlain's Atuana, encased in a plush red box focused on the qualities of that hue: exuberance, passion, lively nature, raw power and thus indeed a sort of Primitivism. A leathery floriental perched on spicy carnation emerged, rolled into smooth nappa.
Although one can detect the leathery accents under the refreshing piquancy of little citric touches , in typical Guerlain fashion the fragrance evolves into a rich melody of florals lullabied into a sweet siesta, full of warm resins, where there is no place for bitterness or aloofness and every little thing smiles satisfied, at one with the world.
Atuana's 3 years senior Fleur de Feu, another floriental with spicy accents reminiscent of carnations, took a similar route, but there the base is more powdery, with no leather pungency. Both extoll the properties of the spicy palette that Poivre by Caron first opened up exhibiting a mature vibe of les parfums fourrure (perfumes to be worn with furs); what a contrast with Guerlain's Eau de cologne du jeune âge coming up in 1953, just one year later! Ode which followed in 1955 was a regression into mellower compositions, full of feminine, non agressive tonalities: rose and jasmine. But that time hadn't arrived yet when Atuana came out, a time when rich chypres reigned supreme. The dare of leather was permissible and therefore a luscious harmony materialized for the enjoyment of those who couldn't abandon their conventional life for the Great Escape.

Notes for Guerlain Atuana: bergamot, neroli, rose, jasmine, iris, amber.

The bottle of Atuana is the same as Fleur de Feu, made by Baccarat: a simple art-deco flacon of ribbed surface on a pedestral, inspired by the skyscrapers that defined the American urban landscape in the early 50s.
Atuana circulated as extrait de parfum and as Eau de Cologne, a concentration that despite current sensibilities was quite lasting. Out of production for several years, it's very rare to find, but it makes scarce appearences on online auctions, where it goes for as much as 950$. A tiny sample can be acquired (for a hefty price naturally) at The Perfumed Court.

Guerlain Atuana ad courtesy of parfumsdepub, Painting La Orana Maria by Paul Gauguin, courtesy of Wikipedia

Withering and Dying

Diptyque is pursuing the discontinuation of some of its products: after the lamented axing of some of their most interesting fragrances, 22 candles go up in smoke -figuratively, as well as literally! Denyse has the scoop on which ones.

Dior-Dior by Christian Dior: fragrance review

Launched by Christian Dior in 1976, four years after the triumph of Diorella and composed by the same nose, the legendary Edmond Roudnitska, Dior-Dior was an astounding commercial flop resulting in its subsequent discontinuation and its firm positioning in the Pantheon of rarities.

It's hard to speculate après le deluge what exactly went wrong. Perhaps it was due to a discrepancy between zeitgeist and the character of the fragrance. By 1976 the advent of emancipated strident chypres as well as the progression from the hippy oils of the late 60s was not simpatico to a woody floral that had pared down the aromatic chypré piquancy of Diorella. And only fairly recently have woody florals for women known a slow resurgence with L'instant Magic, Bond no.9 Andy Warhol Silver Factory, Flower Oriental by Kenzo or the new Sensuous by Lauder and Magnifique by Lancôme.

However, it might also be attributed to the emerging ethos of the fledging perfume marketing: the importance of packaging and bottle being brought to focus much more assertively, the trade aspect getting seriously revved up, perfume being more of a lifestyle object than an objet d'art and copies of copies of things getting produced at a faster rate (although nothing like the alarming avalanche of more recent launches!).
According to Edmond Roudnitska, this resulted in a «olfactive cacophony», lowering of quality and debasement of creativity:

The choice of a perfume can only rest on the competence acquired by education of olfactive taste, by intelligent curiosity and by a desire to understand the WHY and the HOW of perfume. Instead, the public was given inexactitudes and banalities. The proper role of publicity is to assist in the formation of connoisseurs, who are the only worthwhile propagandists for perfume, and it is up to the perfumers to enlighten, orient and direct the publicity agents.

~L'Intimité du Parfum (En collaboration) Olivier PERRIN Editeur, 1974 (availaible at "Sephora" on Champs-Elysées, Paris)

My small, houndstooth-patterned, vintage bottle has a very slightly bruised top note that is neverthless heavy on the indolic, intense aroma of narcissus and white florals, adding the patina of a well-worn, waxed floor with the remnants of cat pee in its cracks . Narcissus naturally extols this aspect, giving a distinctly feral impression which I personally love: from the leathery-laced Fleur de Narcisse by L'Artisan to the paperwhites note in Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker. Mohammud called its scent "bread for the soul" and I can see why: taking in its heady emanation is on the border of pain, it's so intense!

Dior-Dior also serves as a commemorative recapitualtion of a perfumer's artistic path, a simile of olfactory soliloquy: A melon note which Roudnitska put in several of his perfumes (Le Parfum de Thérèse, Diorella) is discernible, although not in the context of the aquatic fragrances of the 90s: melon in a Roudnitska composition seems to serve as a memento of summery laughs in the autumnal mistiness that the chypre base juxtaposes.
And the fresh jasmine odour of hedione/dihydrojasmonate, first copiously used by him in Eau Sauvage, leaps through, with its verdant, metallic cling-clang, puffing out small breathless sighs everytime I move my arms around; the sort of thing that would naturally mingle with the surroundings of white-washed windows and stucco-ed walls in places where iron rust feeds potted gardenias and people eat feta cheese alongside their watermelon.
The last familiar touch comes from the lily of the valley accord that Roudnitska so intently masterminded for his soliflore apotheosis, Diorissimo. (Arguably the only hommage missing is the Prunol base of Femme and the peachy core of Diorama).
Although all the above "notes" sound "clean", in Dior Dior they are neither freshly showered, nor vacuum-sealed. They breathe and deepen into a very feminine and quite urbane fragrance, far removed from Laura Ashley summer dresses, which persists on skin for hours.

For all its charm however Dior-Dior doesn't talk to me the way Roudnitska's more luminiscent creations, such as Diorella or Eau Sauvage, do. Perhaps it's just as well. Still, my bottle is poised alongside its sibling houndstoothed gems with its regal brow highly arched.

Notes: narcissus, muguet (lily of the valley), woods

Please state your interest if you want to be included in a draw for a sample of this rare fragrance.

Ad pic illustration by Rene Gruau courtesy of Fragrantica. Houndstooth bottle pic courtesy of Musée del Perfum.

The first "discontinued" Serge Lutens fragrance: a bad omen or not?

According to latest developments, arising from a discussion on Perfume of Life forum, initiated by my friend Denyse who lives in Paris, the unthinkable has happened: Serge Lutens has decided to discontinue Miel de Bois, one of the least liked and most derided fragrances of his in the export line. [edit to add: it has become a Paris exclusive]

It's not so much that it is a great loss in terms of users who will be lamenting its passing, because like mentioned above, it was extremely unpopular due to its overuse of phenylacetic acid*, which is used to give a honey-like odour (in accordance to the "miel" part of the name which means honey in French), but which can produce an olfactory profile of urinous nuances in high concentration. The news are not officially corroborated or explained as yet.

However this has sparked a fear that if indeed the reason of discontinuation is its abysmal reception by the market, then there is something rotten in the kingdom of Denmark and the Lutens brand is not impervious to the vagaries of marketing and sales. This could mean trouble for many of the less popular fragrances of the line, like the celery-smelling Chypre Rouge, the cozy yet dirty animalic Muscs Kublai Khan or the exquisite Douce Amère. And for a brand that has set the bar much too high, this would be foreboding and sad.

Nevertheless, Perfume Shrine in an attempt to exorcise the above demons, has researched a bit and found out that the key ingredient phenylacetic acid is used in the illicit production of phenylacetone, and therefore subject to controls in the United States. Perhaps the high concentration of said ingredient in the fragrance made it difficult to continue producing it without jumping through hoops of bureaucratic paperwork?

Additionally, phenylacetic acid has been found to be an active auxin (a type of phytohormone) molecule, predominantly found in fruits. Auxin comes from the Greek αυξανω which means "to grow", affecting cell division and cellular expansion, which means it has the potential to disrupt another organism's hormonal balance. Used in high doses, auxins stimulate the production of ethylene which can in turn inhibit elongation growth, cause femaleness of flowers in some species or leaf abscission and even kill the plant.

Whether this has tangible effects in humans is not to my knowledge, however seeing as the IFRA and EU terms of ingredients use call for severe restrictions on so many other substances used in perfumery, it might bear some relevance to the desire to discontinue the fragrance.

I don't know which of the reasons thus hypothesized is worse, but in any case, if you are among the few admirers of Miel de Bois or of daring compositions which will be shown to one's grandchildren when everything will be sanitized in the near future, this is your time to stock up.

*Stop the press latest info: I have been informed by a highly savvy source that Christopher Sheldrake, the nose behind it, never liked it and Serge Lutens himself might have stopped liking it too, which could account for his perfectionist streak showing through axing it. Remains to be seen.

*The ingredient is also known as α-toluic acid, benzeneacetic acid, alpha tolylic acid, and 2-phenylacetic acid.

How the Gods trick us into hubris ~Alpona by Caron: fragrance review

I distinctly recall the first time I tested Alpona: it was the holiday season of 2006 and I had come very late to the cult, considering my perfume habit dates back to the time I was collecting minis and mixing (nay, ruining) my mother's expensive perfumes as a child. Having tested myriads of fragrances by then and having almost exhausted the Caron subject studiously and laboriously as most of them were not available to my country, with only a few sitting pretty on my skin, my nose and my sensibilities (the rose accords have to be a certain way for me to be moved) I had almost no hope of liking Alpona.
How the Gods trick us into hubris...

I had read of it described as a bitter chypre and I imagined it as very harsh and wasted a la Cabochard reformulated, one of the major disappointments of my perfume life because of the precious memories it had held for me personally.
Leafing through hefty tomes of arcane perfume lore I had come across authors describing it as fruity perfume as well and it was at that moment that I became convinced that I wouldn't like it in a million years, given my antithesis to such proclivities. Yet , the desire to test it even to formally and terminally "diss" it was persistent. I was a snob in reverse on the hunt of the elusive: Alpona had been created as extrait de parfum and those were only available through the "urns", Baccarat crystal fountains of liquid gold to be had at the Boutique Caron in Paris and New York City.

It was in a friendly exchange with a lovely lady that I had been able to procure some, opening the little bottle with trepidation not unlike the one shown by the bishop annointing France's Charles VII Dauphin upon his crowning in Reims with Clovis' Sacred Ampoule holding the Holy Oil.

And then.....I put it on! And it took only seconds for me to not only like it , but to positively love it for its peculiarity, its dry and sweet mingle, its character, its depth. Its weird grapefruit-rind note and the rich oakmoss marriage. These two elements dominate the composition. Another devotee was at that very minute approaching the Altar of Alpona, shyly skirting the edges of the marble, gingerly grasping the golden handrail, laying bouquets of piety at the Goddess' feet. And it solaced my soul that she forgave and welcomed me into the Order like a deflowered Vestal Virgin who has entered the priesthood of a secret cult.

Caron launched Alpona in 1939, in tandem with the New York Exposition, inspired by the Garden of the Hesperides. Hercules according to the Greek mythology defied the nymphs Hesperides, guardians of the garden, and stole from the Greek gods the secret of immortality, the "golden apples". Alpona was the first acclaimed fragrance to combine flowers with lemon and grapefruit inaugaurating the “Hespéridé” family. These tart citrus fruits (known as "hesperideans") give the perfume its modernity. Sun-ripened fruits basking in an orchard in the last foothills of the Alps with considerable darkness and richness underneath thanks to the inclusion of oakmoss and the infamous Mousse de Saxe base was at the mind of its creator Ernest Daltroff.
Alpona is recommended according to Caron "for immoderate indulgence by every woman who wants to get the juice out of life".

My fallacy that it would turn for the sour were dispelled by the reality of it unfolding its fruit rind swirls on skin. Alpona is actually quite sweet in the drydown, rich and full-bodied.
It has personality. Backbone!
Alpona smells like a weird holiday in the mountains, but not the snowy Alps, there is no cool snow theme here, despite the name. It's as if you are squeezing grapefruits and oranges for the morning juice, drinking it in a lichen-overgrown attic on the slopes of an autumnal mountain lodge; gorging the sunrays coming through the open window, basking in their warmth, with a little plate of candied orange and bergamot rind by your side, leafing through old textbooks of your granny who was learning Russian as a hobby. Decked in light woolies and breathing in the moist air, the trampled upon tree branches and just dead leaves, sighing with pleasure and abandonment, savouring the spicy dryness, Alpona is like discovering long-forgotten trinkets and family heirlooms in a cedar chest tucked away in the attic.

According to the official Caron site:
Notes: Lemon, Grapefruit, Bergamot, Rose, Orange, Jasmine, Orchid, Thyme, Patchouli, Myrrh, Cedar, Sandalwood, Musk, Oakmoss

I will never again say I won't like something just because. That's a promise Alpona made me give. I will sorely miss it now that they discontinuing it...
You can still get it at NYC boutique located in the Phyto Universe day spa on Lexington Avenue at West 58th Street, so take your chance while supplies last.
HOT FROM THE PRESS:
Paris Caron boutique representative refutes the rumours on discontinuation. Please note that this is not definitive and it might mean that they will keep it only in Paris or the plans are for later on.

Painting by John William Waterhouse, Diogenes

To distract...

Bad news don't have to be announced beforehand, they strike like lightning in a sudden summer storm getting you out of your comfort zone into the realisation that things follow their own course no matter how you think they're going. I was about to do a little article on Caron in light of the recent discussions pertaining to their reformulation by Fraysse and how this affects them or not, intending to procure samples of the current version to compare with my own older batches. All in the aim of accurate reporting, bien sûr!

Alas, at least one gem I was anxiously waiting to see if it had been altered significantly (at least from the version that I enjoyed) was Alpona, that weird beast which fascinated me. Yet, according to The Scented Salamander, Alpona is no more... Shed a loving tear for this individual chypre that would have celebrated its 70 years in 2009. Probably succumbing under the weight of oakmoss restrictions, it has been discontinued. An urn perfume no less, which is foreboding.
Your last chance to grab it before it goes away for ever is at the Caron Boutique for $100 for a 1/4 oz of extrait de parfum to $ 520 for 200 ml. The New York City boutique can be reached at (212) 319-4888. An Alpona review is in the works and will appear on Perfume Shrine shortly!

But enough with the fragrance world gloom and in a playful attempt to distract you from such sad occurences I am hosting a little contest.
Here is a clip that acts as a collage of perfume clips for several fragrances. The reader who identifies the perfumes seen in the correct sequence wins a decant of one of my spring perfumes.



(uploaded by arturdvm)

Check back again for review and surprise posts!

Diptyque discontinuations...

LusciousCargo.com sent an email about changes to the Diptyque line they are carrying. Among the good news of introducing new products, such as the new Eau de Toilette scents (L'eau de l'eau, L'eau de Neroli, L'eau des Hersperides, all by nose Olivier Pecheux), there is the sad information of the house's discontinuing several of their beloved products. To stop producing something one loves is always a sad move and more so for this beloved niche house that dates back to 1961, and has kept me company for so long, either with their scents or their wonderful candles.
The Diptyque site is also under renovation, which means major changes are about to be made. Let's hope for the better.

From the Luscious Cargo email:

"Diptyque are introducing several new products this year, the first of them being three new Eau de Toilettes. On the not-so-pleasant front, the house has removed several categories from production. You will find complete details on our website but a few of the more panic-inducing include the elimination of: the 200ml scents (across the board), the Hair/Body Wash, many many candles, and the following EDTs (in both sizes): L'Autre, Eau d'Elide, Opôné, L'Eau Trois, Virgilio.
Read it and weep..."

I am sighing...Are you?

Pic courtesy of Diptyque

Twin Peaks ~Barbara Bui Le parfum & Rykiel Woman-not for men!

When Barbara Bui had first released her boutique-exclusive scent Le Parfum, little did I know of it. In fact if I am to be completely honest I admit I had been oblivious to its very existence up until a short while before its discontinuation. You can call this DPSS: Delayed Perfume Sniffing Syndrome. It’s the thing that happens when you delay to test something only to discover with dismay that you like it well enough when it is too late to purchase some in a relatively easy way that doesn’t involve jumping through hoops.

Le Parfum was a beautiful scent. It’s also sadly discontinued. You have to hunt the auctions to get it. Why this happened is a mystery worth of a Ruth Rendel denouement. But happily there is a comparable perfume that although not exactly a copycat or dupe, it possesses the best characteristics of Barbara Bui’s fragrance for those who enjoyed it and in my humble opinion it is even better in some ways to it. It’s no coincidence that both were composed by nose Anne Flipo (of L’artisan La Chasse aux Papillons fame). Perfume Shrine had been the first one to report this on the ever popular Makeupalley site back in the beginning of 2006.
I am referring of course to Sonia Rykiel Woman-not for men! Yes, the exclamation point is there on purpose, it’s not intended to be a comment on the writer’s part. I guess the makers want to emphasize that it is a feminine potion and bet on the alluring vibe this has on the female sensibility. At this point it is important to note that the comparison is for the original Eau de parfum concentration in the purple and black bottle, cap with bronze studs like the hardware of a trendy it-bag, because the newer eau de toilette in the pink bottle is a completely different scent that is veering more to the fruity floral way to perdition. Personally I have come to expect a lot from Sonia Rykiel and the latter interpretation left me a little bit disappointed. As did Belle en Rykiel {click for review} up to a certain extent; which is a decent scent that does not commit the cardinal sin of smelling like a myriad other things. Perhaps I was a bit demanding. Anyway... Rykiel Woman-not for men! in the eau de parfum concentration has really captured a soft spot in my heart that is hard for other contestants to shake.

Barbara Bui Le Parfum is creamier, focusing on the inherent smoothness of sandalwood that smothers the smoky incense note, rendering it warm and powdery soft, the complete antithesis of churchy smell that usually gets associated with incense. The sweet vanillic aroma of heliotropin rounds out the base. This is a fragrance for the boudoir, a tight microfiber teddy over an ample bosom, much like another soft smoky specimen, the indomitable Fifi, although there we have a blond tobacco smoking bombshell in textured lace. Despite the official proclaiming of Bui containing undefined spices, I do not detect much of any but rather a citrusy top.

In contrast, Rykiel Woman-not for men! opens with the piquant pink pepper note that has proven to be an early 2000s mega success as it is used in many compositions lending them its contrasting cool-warm palette that serves to bring to focus the rest of the composition as a counterpoint; pink pepper is a bit rosy, which makes it subtler than the regular varieties of black or white pepper. Pepper in general is a fascinating note that may make or ruin a scent, due to its sheer potency.

But like Mae West when it’s good it’s very, very good and when it’s bad it’s even better! Meaning when pronounced it has the ability to grab you by the nose and make you pay attention. In tandem with the leathery/oud and musky fond surfacing pretty soon, Rykiel Woman-not for men! smells a little rougher than its sister scent. But perhaps this is why I love it so! The leathery/suede note is completely modern, recalling neither the classic Cuir de Russie versions with their tarry aspect, nor the Spanish leathers of intense pungency and spiciness. It is smooth and nubuck-like-soft, making it extremely wearable. As the perfume dries down softness and restrained sweetness surface, bringing it closer to Barbara Bui, especially in its incense smokiness with a hay-like powderiness. It stays like this on skin for hours, bringing forth all kind of compliments from “you smell goooood” to naughty winks.
Grab it now before they discontinue it too!

Barbara Bui Le Parfum notes:
spices, incense, jasmine, musk, amber, sandalwood, heliotrope, cedar.
Rykiel Woman-not for men (EDP) notes:
pink pepper, violet, date, jasmine petals, Bulgarian rose, black pepper, olibanum, agarwood, leather, amber.

Sonia's Rykiel Woman-not for men! is available from major department stores and online.


More surprises and exciting features on the Shrine coming up soon!!

Pic of twins by Diane Arbus via Transidex. Pic of Barbara Bui from their site. Pic of Rykiel Woman from escentual