Miss Dior Cherie L'Eau by Christian Dior: fragrance review

It's not often that I am caught completely off-guard and totally surprised by something. Usually my instincts and my (hard-paid for) experience guide me through most eventualities with assured steps. Yet the latest Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau managed to make me do a 180 degree turn! Not because it is a masterpiece. Far from it. But because I was fully prepared to absolutely hate it, just because I have been alienated by the sugary, patchouli, fruity spin of Miss Dior Chérie, a scent that is completely different than the classic chypre Miss Dior from 1947 (Dior's first scent) of which you can read a review here. The shared name makes one think hard on how much travesty one can stomach.

Furthermore, the developments at Christian Dior for some years now have been quite unsettling as the whole image has been cheapened and ultimately vulgarised. Not to mention that the very latest observations I made regarding reformulations afoot to all their classics, from Diorissimo and Diorella onwards ~signaled by cunningly new-old looking packaging only~ has left a bitter taste in my mouth... So a testing at Sephora just because it was the latest thing provided a rather pleasant jolt out of the doldrums of contemplating on "what Dior had been"...
According to its creator François Demachy, "Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau is not a complicated fragrance". Imagine a freshly scrubbed young lass, put a headband on her bouffant long hair, a mock pout with no depths of murky sexuality à la Catholic girls and you're basically got your sanitized BB.9
(ie. Bardot version 2009) ~a product of bourgeois paternalism and market satiation! Yet, didn't Bardot herself began her career posing for bourgeois magazines and studying ballent under Boris Knyazev?

Demachy has been instrumental in the creation of Aqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta, the re-issue of Pucci Vivara, Fendi Palazzo and a pleiad of scents for parfums Christian Dior (he almost seems like in-house perfumer at this rate, which I m not sure how to interpret!): the newest Dior Escale à Pontichery which we recently reviewed, as well as last summer's Escale à Portofino, Farenheit 32, the masculine Eau Sauvage Fraicheur Cuir and Dior Homme Sport, the Dior numbered Passages special collection of scents Collection Particuliere, Midnight Poison, Dior J'adore L'absolu...

Vogue.co.uk describes Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau as "a sparkling and distinctive floral scent blended with notes of tangy yet spicy bitter orange, Gardenia and white musks that aims to sum up the certain 'je ne sais quoi' of the ultimate French girl. Pretty in every detail - down to the bottle's iconic bow - this lighter, François Demachy-designed adaptation of the original perfectly fits a long-standing perfume brief from Christian Dior himself, "Faites-moi un parfum qui sente l'amour" (make me a fragrance which smells of love)."

I don't think Miss Dior Cherie L'Eau quite captures all that (especially the amour part), but it's not typical of the myriads of fruity florals on the market: First of all, the scent is decidedly floral for a change, but with a certain modern translucence and a lightl dewy feeling that makes for a refreshing take on green florals. The direction is "muguet"/lily of the valley "clean" (the lucky charm of Christian Dior himself) but done via a green, budding gardenia accord; which might be replicated by jasmolactones, if the eerie feeling of familiarity with Pur Desir de Gardenia by Yves Rocher is anything to go by, although the Rocher one is much more gardenia-oriented than this one. A small facet of the pleasantly bitter citrusy touches of Escale à Portofino and Mugler Cologne is also hiding in there with a very soft powdery drydown, fluffy like an air-spun macaroon with green filling and a little laundry-day feel. The girl wearing the John Galliano dress in the shade of candies, model Maryna Linchuk shot by Tim Walker, is perky, and innocently upbeat in a 60s kind-of-way (hold the orgasmic cries of the original Bardot song that accompanies the commercials shot by Sofia Coppola,; this one is a pouting Bardot seen through unknowing ten-year-old eyes!). The blotter beckons me from the depths of my old, ivory LV Monogram Vernis handbag: should I give it one more chance?

Notes for Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau:
bitter orange, gardenia accord, white musks

Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau has just launched widely, in amounts of 50 and 100 ml (1.7 and 3.4 oz) for 59€ and 85€ respectively.
If you have a few moments to kill, the Dior website for the fragrance is fun!

The rather confusing Miss Dior Chérie line comprises so far:
Miss Dior Chérie Eau de Parfum 2005,
Miss Dior Chérie Eau de Toilette 2007,
Miss Dior Chérie Eau de Printemps 2008(limited edition),
Miss Dior Chérie Blooming Bouquet2008(exclusive aimed at the Asian market),
Miss Dior Cherie L'Eau 2009.

Last but not least: For those of you who might as well get a dose of the old standby classic gardenia chypre of Miss Dior, there are some bottles over at Fragrancenet.com as well as the standard Miss Dior Chérie. Using code SHRINE saves you a further 10%!(offer good throughout May).


Related reading on Perfumeshrine: the Dior series

Pics via punmiris.com and imachildofthemoon.blogspot.com

O la la, how fresh! ~O de Lancome: fragrance review

Inhaling a lemon grove's foliage trail in the morning air under hot azure skies, set to savour the day with optimism, full of joie de vivre must be one of life's simplest and most satisfying pleasures. Fragrances that give a lift to my step and make me face the mornings with élan are precious.
The task of achieving just that is not easy: it has to be uplifting, but also suave, not rasping on the senses which are slowly winding up to function from the night's inertia. Optimistic but with a hint of the stoic that marks the nature of my thoughts. Ô de Lancôme with its playfully double entendre of aqueous name and cool, dark green chyprish tendencies puts the right balance between the zesty burst of yellow hesperides and the alchemy of green herbs, interwoven like baroque music with its rounded forms philosophically puts some semblance of order into chaos.

The first advertisements for Ô de Lancôme emphasised the back to nature vibe that the French do so well with artistic merit: young women on bikes emerging from the rampant countryside, drenched in sunlight but with the coolness of spring air and dew in the fragrant grass, putting goosebumps on the skin at the hint of a breeze. It is so rare to encounter such a blatantly unpretentious image in fragrance advertising any more. Seeing those advertisements while leafing spring volumes of French Elle magazine, yearly devoted to beauty rituals of what seemed an arcane yet factually a simple mode, made me realize at a tender age how the natural world hides secrets of longing in the grass.

Composed in 1969 by perfumer René Gonnon, Ô de Lancôme came out at the time of Paris students' revolt and became an emblematic fresh Eau, taking the uber-successful Eau Sauvage one step further with the inclusion of synthetic aroma-chemical Thujopsanone. The consolidation of greenness under the crushed lemon leaves in the palm, with a subtle woody background resembles a viola da gamba supporting a clear, young female voice singing rounds of couplets in an allemande that converge on the same sweet surrender of a third majore of Provence in the end of a song in minore. Almost thirty years later and it retains the fresh radiance of a young girl, nary a shadow under the eye, curiously a tad sorrowful for the joys of life she has yet to experience.



Like the song goes:

Une jeune fillette
De noble coeur
Plaisante et joliette
De grande valeur
Outre son grès,
On l'a rendue nonette
Celui point de lui haicte
D'où vit en grande douleur
~{see the translation and musical notation on this page}

Ô de Lancôme was according to Osmoz the start of

"a new olfactory adventure [..] and perfumery would continue to explore its charms and powers until the early 80’s: Eau de Rochas, de Courrèges, de Guerlain, de Patou, de Givenchy, Eau d’Hadrien (Annick Goutal), Eau de Cologne d’Hermès, and even Cristalle (Chanel) and Diorella (Dior) would successfully pick up the gauntlet of those fresh, signature thrills that left their mark on an entire generation".

Notes: bergamot, citron, mandarin, petit-grain, jasmine, rose, honeysuckle, (witch hazel in 1995 version), basil, rosemary, coriander, oakmoss, cedar, sandalwood, vetiver.

Eau de Toilette comes in 75ml/2.5-oz and costs €48.50 and lasts incredibly well for this kind of fragrance.
Available at major department stores and Sephora.

The fragrance was re-issued in 1995 with a slight change in colouring in the packaging, which is helpful in identifying batches: the band around the bottle changed from ambery brown to bright green, same with the colour scheme of the box. The motif on the glass, like 60s wallpaper as Susan Irvine succinctly put it, remained the same.

There are two "flankers" to the original fragrance, both futile in my opinion for different reasons: O oui!, a fruity floral in a similar bottle with the palest white-ish blue colouring, aimed at generation Y, so saccharine-full generic and dull that it barely made a bleep on the radar; and a men's version in a green capped spartan column of a bottle called O pour Homme , marketed with the symbol of Mars (and male too) as the variation on O. Pleasurable thought it is, it seems like a redundant attempt to market what is already an eminently unisex fragrance in a new packaging to the opposite sex.
No need to splurge in getting both: the original is perfect on men as well and I highly recommend it.

Pics from parfumdepub.
Clip of popular song Une Jeune Fillette arranged by J.Savall from the exquisite film Tous les matins du monde, originally uploaded by Peteronfire on Youtube

The Dior chypre series ~Eau Fraiche: fragrance review

One might think that unisex or “shared” fragrances, like DNA remnants on a TV show that focuses on forensics, can be traced back to CK One and the 1990s. That one would be much mistaken. Almost every house of perfumery and many small artisanal local parfumeries in Mediterranean countries, notably Italy and France, brandished their own recipe of eau de cologne for cooling down on hot days and refreshing after a bath in the not so distant past. For parfums Christian Dior that emblematic scent could have been Eau Fraîche.

Well before the time women usurped Eau Sauvage for their own use thus catapulting the last masculine bastion, Eau Fraîche could have been shared between both sexes as early as 1953 reversing the situation: a woman’s perfume that can be worn by males. The advertisments from 1957 showed two hands, one male the other female, stretching to clasp the bottle suggesting its vague intent to appeal to both.

Eau Fraîche drew upon a rich tradition that had been semi-forgotten during the first half of the 20th century, when marketing decided that separate smells should appeal to different genders. On the contrary, it harkens back to the times of the first Eaux de Cologne, like 4711 or less well known exempla Hungary Water and Florida Water. These interpretations of the basic concept of a refreshing alcoholic splash utilised hesperidic top notes evaporating at a zingy pace, along with refreshing herbs and light woods or musk for a little tenacity. Purpotedly Hungary Water served the Queen of Hungary, from which the name derives, really well: she was said to have found a young husband in her very advanced age! I don’t know if it can be attributed to the Water’s miraculous qualities, although everyone with a sceptic bone in their bodies would think not; still it was widely believed that the essenses used in those refreshing toners were beneficial to body and spirit. And aromatherpeutically speaking, so they are.

However 1953 was perhaps too early for unisex smells and women were priviliged to add a fresher chypre to their collections, almost two decades before Diorella became the definitive fresh smell for Dior fans. In its rounded flask bottle by Guerry Colas, Eau Fraîche is another in the series to adorn the shelf besides Miss Dior, Diorama and Diorissimo. Notice the almost rattan feel of the sides, suggesting a summery vacation at the Côte d'Azur.

Eau Fraîche begins on a citrus and mandarin burst of juicy freshness with an astrigent appeal. Mandarin lends a little sweetness to the proceedings, due to its less shrill odour profile compared to lemon. Yet they cannot be mistaken for the citrusy fruity fragrances of today, as murky oakmoss surfaces almost simulstaneously giving a chypré feel. Its creator, Edmond Roudnitska, eminent chypre creator knew a thing or two about using it as the perfect backdrop to notes of clarity and translucence.
This oakmoss base is like the background buzz and scratches on an old vinyl taking rounds on an old set: you know digital is so much better, yet you feel a strange nostalgia for something that either irritated you when you were actually using it or which you have never known, simply because you are a child of the 1990s. Oakmoss can lend a subversive mantle to anything with its musty yet sensual feel and if you have ever smelled the ingredient in its raw state you know what I am talking about. In this regard, Eau Fraîche features it rather heavily and it is immediately apparent; a trait that would drive away many of the people who are averse to chypres.

I could perhaps discern its heritage to Caron’s Eaux series. Some of them have a similarly chypré accord which sets them apart from their cousins that pose on shelfs in department stores, all dolled up in their fruity colourful rinds.
To a lesser degree one can also discern a comparable feel in Bulgari Eau parfumée au Thé Vert, a scent that was also aimed at both sexes, well ahead of CK One. A scent that has a smoked wood autumnal feel to it despite the limpid shade of the frosted bottle that would inspire one to use it in a heatwave.

Eau Fraîche also includes rosewood, heavy in suave linalool, and a subtle vanillic touch that rounds it out beautifully. A fragrance for bien-être dans sa peau, as the French use to say: feel good in your skin. A fragrance suggesting laid-back style and insouciance like the 1971 advertisment depicted above shows in such few strokes.
Men as well as women would be strongly adviced not to miss this little-known refined gem.


The Dior Chypres series is not over yet: stay tuned!

Ads from okadi. Bottle pic from toutenparfum

The Quest for the Great Dry Citrus

Perfumeshrine receives lots of mail from readers. Some with kind words of admiration, some with suggestions (which are much appreciated), some with questions on various matters. The latter usually make me ponder and try to come up with thoughtful answers, which I am not always sure make the grade and help along, except when people do follow up and thank me. But it's worth the effort every time, I think.

This is one such email I got recently:

"Dear all,

I am a man fascinated with fragrances.

Ever since my brother, working at our small town perfume shop dressing up windows, brought home little bottles (called testers I found out much later) of fragrances. It was in the early 80s and I still remember that I was impressed with Cacharel's Yatagan {correction of editor: this comes from Caron} and Dior's Eau Savage {sic} .

My love affair with fragrances continued in a distance, until in the late 80s early 90s when I desired to have a bottle of CK's Obsession. We got it from Canada from a relative of my first love. I used it for some time; sometimes intoxicated by its power sometimes disturbed. Next there came the CK One again from Canada (!). That was a big bottle and we happily shared it with my second bigger love. I was happy with CK's freshness and cleanliness.

Then something powdery came in the market and it was a bit nostalgic of childhood smells around loveable old aunts... I bought my first fragrance... a set of Le Male. This must have been in 1994 or 1995. Years passed by with some Sander's Simple, some Kouros, even some Lanvin to discover 6 years ago, due to a new big love, the fragrance collection of Comme des Garcons. I chose my first CDG after asking their Paris flagstore to post me scented papers of Odeur 53 and 71. By that time I was already far away from my hometown. I chose 71 and accompanied it with Dry Clean by CDG. These were my fragrances for three years. Then there came 53. Now I am in my 2nd bottle of 53. Meanwhile this last summer I wore Eau de Lalique which I found to be quite impressive for an eau and look forward for a bottle more. I have been researching for the great dry citrus fragrance for a few months and that is how I came across Eau de Lalique. It took me 10 days to decide on it and I was happy I found it. In the meantime I tried CDG's Play on paper and my skin. It was disappointing. I received also a sample booklet of luxuriously put together perfumes by Serge Lutens; not my cup of tea I must admit as I am rather picky with my teas nowadays. I haven't tried the Guerlen' s {sic} Eau, with citrus. I am afraid that, that too is going to be too sweet.

My kindest regards.

A devoted fragrance lover.

Michail"

A couple of comments, first:
I gather this was sent to more than one person, there are a couple of mistakes that might be attributed to a newcomer to fragrance lingo or not and there is no direct question. Also I am a little perplexed that the writer was not able to find Clavin Klein fragrances where he is, considering they were available in department stores, as far as I recall.
But I reckon the question is the quest for the great dry citrus. Which is valid enough. Therefore dry citrus recs should follow.

Dear Michail,
thank you for choosing Perfume Shrine to ask this question.
I think you have dabbled in a cornucopia of perfumes that are not strictly confined to citrusy smells, so your tastes are really more varied than you might think.
Congrats on the daring appreciation of Yatagan too; a scent that not many would brave. I really did laugh out on the Lutens comment, as those are very much revered and somehow your outlook on them came as a surprising and I might say unaffected, refreshing change. And yes, they are rather sweet perfumes to begin with, per general consensus, so it's all right.

Considering that citrus scents are so popular and varied, sourcing their top notes from various fruits that invariably have a different odour profile and therefore different sweetness level, I would venture to recommend a few that to my nose seem like what you are looking for. Orange and mandarin render sweeter notes than lemon or lime (such as in CKOne) and begamot is a more classic bittersweet note. Neroli has a more floral tonality as it is distilled from flowers, while petitgrain is another ingredient that might remind you of citrusy and lightly green notes. Therefore reading what the notes for each fragrance are might help you in your quest.

The Eau Imperiale de Guerlain you are referring to is not too sweet, if you are hesitant to try it. It is however very fleeting and that might disappoint you if you are accustomed to such tenacious and potent fragrances as those you mention.
A good choice for a dry lemon with the background of cypress wood is the now classic Eau d'Hadrien by Annick Goutal. A smaller brand that you can however find where you are.

A tenacious and easier to procure citrus is O by Lancome, a scent that is marketed to women, but which has been borrowed by men since it launched in the late 1960s. The crushed lemon leaves of the beginning get anchored down by a little sandalwood, which lends a sensual touch to the more acerbic opening.

In that vein I would also recommend Eau Dynamissante from Clarins, a skincake brand that has produced this as their first aromatic foray, claiming aromatheurapeutic benefits from its use as well. It's bracing, cool and quite dry and would satisfy your summer needs admirably.

For a grapefuit fix may I suggest Citrus Paradisi by Czech and Speake. It's a clean and realistic smell with a little smokiness in the background. Also Vie de Chateau by Patricia de Nicolai is another bracing cologne, technically not just citrusy, but more green and woody, that you might enjoy nevertheless. Originally conceived for a prince (prince Sigalas) by de Nicolai who is related to the family Guerlain it is a classy composition that encompasses many acerbic notes allied to herbs and aromatic grasses that lend a distinguished dryness.
Another unisex easily got scent is Un Jardin sur le Nil by Hermes, opening on what they say is green mango, yet I perceive as tart grapefruit. It segues to woody notes and a little whiff of incense. It might be a little less dry than Vie de Chateau though.

Another confident De Nicolai scent is New York which combines bergamot and Sicilain lemon with spice and some amber to produce a scent that is trully mellow and polished.
Douro(formerly Lords) by Penhaligon's is a more powdery, sharp and soapy rendition of citrus notes on a woody, aromatic base and you might find it to your liking.

For the more obscure fragrances, please refer to this excellent and most reliable site (to which I am not affiliated, by the way): Aus Liebe Zum Duft/ First in Fragrance.

I hope you do get to find what you are looking for.

Regards,
Perfume Shrine



Dear readers, if you have any more recommendations, please mention them in the comments section. Thanks!

Next week we review chypre fragrances of the enchanted kind!...
Pics come from Luckyscent and Garden.co.uk

Sally sells sea "sel" at the sea shore

It's not unusual that my mind reels into well known quotes/parables/phrases that get twisted to serve my purposes. I'm weird like that I guess and words have always being a playground. However the assonance of "s" in the above paradigm is testament to the powers of suggestion as it combines two languages, english and french, both foreign to me. "Sel" means of course "salt" in english and it rhymes quite nice with the original "shell" of the english exercise phrase.
So what does salt have to do with a perfume article, you might ask. As promised, this is part of a new trend in perfumery that is making waves as we speak (it seems that I am very bent on wordplay and puns today).

For the past year there have been many new releases that capitalize on a new aspect, an aroma that would be better appreciated with our taste buds rather than our olfactory skills. I am talking about the salty aspect that several new perfumes have veered into. Taste really encompasses very few variations: there is sweet (primeval like breast milk and thus a little juvenile), sour (for those who prefer a little animation to their palate), salty (a memory of the ocean and minerals, a grounding experience and a health concern for most), bitter (a taste for the adventurous and oh, how appreciated it is in combination with other tastes!) and finally umami (rich, fatty, meaty, the effect of many foods that transpire as full).
And that's it! All tastes are basically a combination of those basic categories. The rest is flavour ~the mystical tryst of taste and olfaction that gives us real pleasure in savouring petit fours and enjoying tiramisu. And of course other factors such as the food's smell, detected by the olfactory epithelium of the nose, its texture, detected by mechanoreceptors, and its temperature, detected by thermoreceptors, come into play.
So it comes as no surprise that experiments conducted with willing volunteers eating potatoes and apples with their nose closed revealed a complete confusion as to what they were consuming, resulting in hysterical results.

So how can a taste experience such as salty be translated into the olfactory realm of perfume? This is where art and innovation come to the fore. And it is very appropriate that we discuss this now that summer is well upon us.

It all began by Eau des Merveilles (=water of wonders), an Hermès fragrance developed a few years past that took the last available batches of real ambergris (suppossedly; there is no way to confirm that) and made them into a limpid, salty, woody alloy fit for women who were not into florals or citrus for summer, yet who wanted a light and refreshing scent nonetheless. A unisex triumph had just erupted.

And then came The Different Company with its Sel de Vetiver in spring 2006: the olfactory rendition of dirty vetiver roots into a glass of marine water. Many proclaimed that it smells like an unwashed sailor, and for that reason it made an impression. Composed by Celine Ellena, Jean Claude's daughter following the illustrious dad's footsteps, it encompasses notes of grapefruit, cardamom, Bourbon geranium, lovage, Haitian vetiver, patchouli, iris and ylang ylang.
Apparently the inspiration was the "scent of salt drying on the skin after bathing in the sea", which is an image I can very well associate with.

Then came in summer 2006 (for Europe at least) the completely mesmerising and delectable L de Lolita Lempicka(for a full review click here). A fragrance that combined the salty aspect of a mermaid with the opulence of vanilla, tonka and musks for an effect that is like skin baked under the sun on a hot secluded beach on a mediterranean isle.
By then the ground was ripe for more launches that viewed the salty note as an intergral part of their formula.

This past winter saw the launch of one of the best salty-sweet compositions for those who appreciate a few M&Ms scattered into their pop-corn like Sarah Jessica Parker apparently does or for those who like to combine fresh watermelon with greek feta cheese for dessert, like it's customary here. I am talking about Elixir des Merveilles, a take on the original that takes the salty element and incorporates it into an orientalised composition that could be worn in any season. It includes notes of orange Peel, , caramel, biscuit accord (vanilla, tonka bean, milk), sandalwood, incense, resins: Peru balsam and balsam of Siam, oak, patchouli, cedar and ambergris, echoing the original Eau des Merveilles.
For a full review, click here.

Terre d'Hermès , the latest men's fragrance by the luxury house, could also be classified under the salty, although it's more mineral than sea-like and has an earthy quality to it that denotes the light touch of the masterful hand of Jean Claude Ellena, a self-proclaimed lover of the salty and bitter.

And soon everyone seemed to be doing salty fragrances: Jo Malone announced the launch of Blue agave and Cacao (news reported here) with notes of cardamom, agave cactus, sea salt and chocolate. Miller Harris came up this May with the new Fleurs de Sel, part of her New Edition collection, inspired by the childhood home of its creator Lyn Harris in Batz sur Mer, which is a village in Brittany located between beaches and salt marshes. Based on the salty facets of vetiver, with mossy and leathery chypre accords it features notes of red thyme oil, rosemary, clary sage, iris nobilis, narcissus, rose, ambrette seed, woods, vetiver, moss, and leather.
And of course Bond no.9 wouldn't be left out of the game, giving us on June 1st their newest and very refreshing scent Coney Island, the equivalent of a salt-rimmed glass of frozen margarita for when languorously lounging by the pool with notes of margarita mix (tequila included), melon, guava, cinnamon, chocolate, caramel, musk, vanilla, cedar and sandalwood. For a full review click here.

All in all, this is a promising market and a new trend that is set to get us out of the well-established sweet tooth of the fruity florals and into the more aspiring compositions of slightly weird yet savoury compositions that call upon our summery disposition and our memory of the ocean from which we came. I don't call this a bad sign. Do you?



Top pic is of Faneromeni Beach at Lesvos, Greece, courtesy of Lesvos.gr
Bottom pic is painting Waves by Katsushika Hokusai (1831) courtesy of allposters.com

Eau de Star by T.Mugler: fragrance review

When a fragrance has been instrumental to producing a spawn of successors that try to emulate or imitate or at least to bear a passing affinity with, you know you’re in the presence of greatness and innovation, even if said fragrance is such a powerhouse as to produce feelings of either love or hate.
Angel by Thierry Mugler is such a fragrance: polarizing, powerful, combustible, sensual, decadent, even a little bitchy on certain individuals.
Its exclusively synthetic nature exploring facets of airy notes such as hedione and helional coupled with the hay of coumarin, the bitterness of chocolate and patchouli and the deviousness of caspirene was paramount to it becoming an instant sensation that rocked the perfume world when it came out in 1992 in an era of limpid, watery creations of which L’eau d’Issey was the contestant with the greater pull. It took a while, yet Angel prevailed, introducing a whole new category of scents, the gourmands: oriental scents that rely on foody notes to evoke images of childhood and comfort or a playful sensuality a la 9 ½ weeeks that interjects food into sexual play.
It is no accident that it is le numero 1 in sales in France, capital of perfume in the world, even giving a jolt at the ribs to the classic Chanel no.5 with its iconic status.

The new Eau de Star is the latest feminine addition to formidable stable of Mugler, after the latest exploration of tinkering with the original formula in the forms of Garden of Stars, a collection of four exquisite bottles topped with a star with an angular point in various shades exploring the addition of a floral note to the singularly floral-less original Angel. Violet, Lys, Pivoine and Rose were the chosen blossoms and the results ranged from the almost pareil (Violet) to the friendlier and cozier cousin coming to visit for the holidays (Pivoine). Although the bottles were gorgeous as is always the case with the Mugler enterprise, none of the scents moved me enough to buy a new bottle for my collection, especially since I already had invested in the acquisition of the lovely Innocent: a softer take on Angel with the patchouli toned down and sugared almonds and meringues surfacing on an unexpected marriage of true minds lost in an everlasting reverie.
Incidentally, the Star association is not something out of the blue (pun intended) either. Mugler has considered stars his lucky charms ever since his first foray into designing those alien-like women with the sharp shoulder pads in the 1980s which had crimson lips and slashed lined eyes like amazones from Galactica. He wears the star symbol himself as a tattoo and a signature ring. However the lucky charm practice is not unheard of in the greater design world, from Christian Dior who put a lily of the valley blossom on every hem of couture to Coco Chanel who chose the number 5 as the one to signify her foray into perfumed business to coincide with her launching her couture on 5 May(fifth month)upon that fateful year of no.5's introduction.

Eau de Star comes now to make me re-consider whether I should purchase another one of that franchise of which Innocent has captured my heart for cozy and frolicky soirees. I haven't decided yet, as I think it merits more sampling first which I am planning to do in due time.
Not a limited edition, but a firm addition, to be followed by the complimentary Icemen for discerning males, Eau de Star is built around the word eau, aqua, water….The addition of such a word to something like Angel sounds like an oxymoron, as the denseness of the latter does not recall any body of the former in anyone’s mind. Yet the creative mind behind this new fragrance, namely
Louise Turner at Quest, managed to combine the limpidness of watery, aquatic notes -which usually make me shudder- with a floral heart and sensual patchouli base that is not the same as Angel yet retains a passing kindred spirit.
The fragrance begins on a tart and crystalline note of fruit that is intermingled with fresh notes like those used to render cucumber aromas in such scents as En Passant by Olivia Giacobetti for F.Malle. Although this might sound scary to perfume lovers of serious and deep perfumes, especially those who focus on classics, I assure you it is not something to make anyone run for the hills trying to catch their breath; on the contrary it makes for a sparkly, pleasant effect that upon spraying the new scent on my skin in the space of a couple of minutes two different individuals stopped and turned swiftly and asked me with some impatience what was that gorgeous scent I was wearing. (I call this a success. Don’t you?)
The succeeding stages do not disappoint, as the progression is to something vaguely floral coupled with unmistakable orientalised effluviums of patchouli and vanilla that manage not to become overwhelming but linger seductively with a sensuality that is reminiscent of the cuddly dry down phase of Innocent.
However the new scent is like neither, but holds its own ground. A flanker maybe (a term denoting the succeeding perfumes that capitalize on the success of one original scent), yet an individual creation that could be worn in warmer weather when Angel and Innocent do not often make one welcome in mixed company. A lighter, aqueous interpretation of a gourmand theme.

The bottle is a heavy glass affair of three sides with the signature star etched on the front, topped with a silver geometrical cap bearing the logo of the brand.
Eau de Star comes in Eau de toilette concentration in 25 and 50ml and a refillable bottle of 50ml (1.7oz)retailing at 41.8, 61.5 and 71.5 euros respectively.
Available at French Sephora and across Europe with plans to be introduced to the US later on alongside the masculine new scent Icemen (of which I will report later on).

The line is also accompanied by a transparent lipgloss that is called Gloss Lèvres Délicieuses (=delicious lips), perfumed with the notes of Eau de Star and encased in a rectangular tube with wand, retailing at 15.90 for 4.5ml at French Sephora. I haven’t tried this one yet, but if one is truly enamored with the scent I guess having it under one’s nose would provide their fix admirably.



Pic of bottle courtesy of Elle.fr and of gloss courtesy of Sephora.fr