Springtime awakenings: Green Fragrances & Green Shades in Perfumery

Among fragrance families, only "green" scents are classified through a visual connotation, specifically a color coding. You could argue that color plays an important role in the perception of fragrance anyway: "noir" or black connotes a sense of nocturnal danger, of priceless and unusual objects or of mighty seduction; spicy orientals are routinely being encased in reddish or brown boxes to evoke the materials associated with their make-up and the exotic East artifacts and textiles they are inspired of; marine scents come in blue bottles to recall the "big blue" of the sea they try to reference etc. And you would be right.

via pinterest

But green is a category all its own because the smell so categorically corresponds to the color for once that there is just no other way to "view" them: snapped leaves, mown grass, young stems retaining the dew, young buds striving to grow, pine needles all fresh and tingling in the forest air ... there's something about green scents that makes even the most die-hard urbanite of us yearn for the call of nature, of open spaces and of the freedom of an existence lived in a timeless way, in unison with earth. Today when the Green Movement is rampant, they seem particularly "now."

Green scents can be said to be unisex, though many women consider them more masculine or casual. But shed a thought for supermodel "The Body" Elle McPherson, a legend in the late 1980s and early 1990s and still a force to be reckoned with: her signature scent has always, famously been Guerlain's masculine Vetiver. Think of Sycomore by Chanel too: the concept was to offer a classically masculine targeted scent (a vetiver) to women who were busy buying off Les Exclusifs range. Or consider that super-sexy Christina Hendricks (of Mad Men fame) is a fan of the smooth green of Premier Figuier by L'Artisan Parfumeur!  Vetiver is technically a woody scent, coming from an exotic grass, yet because green packaging was first used for the first "stand alone" Vetiver (that of Carven in 1957) and all the others copied the color scheme, the association of vetiver with "green" has stuck!

via perfumeprojects.com

Green fragrances are not necessarily always "earth mother" types, "Om" chanters, dressed in hand-knitted woolies. They can be refreshing, upbeat, cheeky even! Etiquette Bleue by Parfums d'Orsay is a lively, citrusy scent which is underscored by greenery to render a playful and classic herbaceous ambience. O de Lancome is as fresh as tomorrow, its geometric packaging (in the words of Susan Irvine "reminiscent of 1960s wallpaper") denoting a modern sensibility; the basil, petitgrain, rosemary, witch hazel and vetiver notes give a decidedly green character to the hesperidic and floral notes that would speak of a simple cologne. Green fragrances can lean a bit more sophisticated too, borrowing facets from the fougere and chypre classification: Koto by Shiseido, Eau Parfumee au The Vert by Bvlgari, Diorella, Givenchy III, Safari by Ralph Lauren, Jacomo Silences, Niki de Saint Phalle and Eau Sauvage by Dior are all class acts in their own way and they all have perceptible "green" elements.

via pinterest

So beloved were these green scents once upon a time that the inclusion of a "herbal green" aroma in a functional product (namely the original "Herbal Essences" shampoo) has nostalgizers scouring Ebay for remaining bottles fetching stratospheric prices, even if only for opening the cap and getting a good sniff!

Green shades can technically veer into two main directions: fresh or resinous; leaves, floral notes with green elements such as lily of the valley/muguet and herbs are classified in the former (and accounting for green florals), with some citrus peel materials (bergamot notably) and grasses (such as galbanum) classified in the later, accounting for green chypre perfumes and green citrus fragrances.

Certain raw materials naturally tilt the scales into greenery indeed: galbanum, the driving force behind the classic green Vent Vert by Balmain (1945, its very name meaning "green breeze"), but also an indispensable addition to Chanel No.19, a green floral; pine needles (is there any other way to think of classic Italian Pino Silvestre but as intensely green?); cut grass, lemon leaves, petitgrain and eau de brouts (a by-product of the distillation of the Citrus aurantium tree), violet leaves (as opposed to violet flowers), mint leaves, spearmint, angelica, wormwood, lily of the valley (a green floral note indispensable to perfumers), even absinthe notes, all lend that touch of emerald that makes a composition at once majestically glow and refresh. Bring on the springtime greens!

Perfumery Material: Coumarin, Tonka Bean & the Fougere accord

Open any perfume guide with fragrance "notes" or any online discussion or blog post on perfume description and you're bound to stumble on coumarin; one of the most common materials in many fine fragrances but also several body products, cosmetics and functional products. Its rich history goes back to the beginnings of modern perfumery in the late 19th century, bringing us right at the moment of the nascent concept of perfumery as a mix of organic chemistry and nature's exploitation. Coumarin as such is a synthesized material in most perfumes, but it's also found in abundance in natural products, such as tonka beans (Dipteryx odorata) where it is the principle aromatic constituent (1-3%). In fact the name derives from "cumaru", an Amazonian dialect name for the Tonka bean tree.

• Origin & function of coumarin

Chemically, coumarin is a benzopyrone (1-benzopyran-2-one) which, apart from tonka beans, also occurs naturally in vanilla grass (Anthoxanthum odoratum), sweet woodruff (Galium odoratum), sweet clover (Meliotus L.), sweet grass (Hierochloe odorata) and cassia cinnamon (Cinnamomum aromaticum) among other species. In short, it's rather sweet, as you might have surmissed by now, and evokes cut grasses. You'd be correct to assume both facts, but that's not all: Although coumarin in perfumery does add a certain sweet note of mown hay or freshly cut grass with vanilla overtones, it's really bitterish in flavour in high concentrations (its -now banned- inclusion in food would attest that). Therefore theorizing its plant origin one would assume it's produced by plants in order to defend themselves from predation. After all it's also present in cherries, strawberries, and apricots, prime targets for birds. You might have even seen it featured in your rodent pesticide: don't be alarmed (coumarin is included in miniscule quantities in foodstuff anyway), but now you know why!

• History of coumarin discovery & synthesis

Natural perfumers used and continue to use tonka bean absolute and tonka in powder form, as well as deer's tongue, a herb with brittle leaves to render a coumarin note. But the story of coumarin is largely one of organic chemistry. The component was isolated by A.Vogel in 1820, but the laboratory synthesis of coumarin first happened in 1868 from coal tar by W.H.Perkin (who gave his name to "the Perkin reaction" used to produce it). It took another year to produce it in an industrial scale at Haarmann & Reimer. The consequent memorable inclusion of synthesized coumarin in Jicky (Guerlain 1889) and earlier in Fougère Royale (Houbigant 1882) was the kickstart of a whole new fragrance family: the fougère, thanks to Paul Parquet's composition for Houbigant. Fougère Royale contained a staggering 10% coumarin of the finished formula! How one can dream a bit while reading Guy de Maupassant describing this fragrance as "prodigious evocation of forests, of lands, not via their flora but via their greenery"...

• The Fougere fragrance family

Fougère fragrances evoke the smell of ferns at least as we imagine them to be, as by themselves they don't have a particularly noticeable odour (Paul Parquet said that if they could, they'd smell of Fougere Royale). But the concept of a scent that is herbaceous, infused with aromatic lavender ~a popular material for both sexes at the end of the 19th century thanks to its propriety in the "clean" sense of the world~ and which leaves a malleable, soft, enveloping, yet discreet aura on the wearer was lacking: The era was still using the Victorian soliflores. Funnily enough, even those had their own categorisation; violets or roses for the respectable lady, jasmine and tuberose for the courtesan. Fougère scents were on the cusp between approved and revolutionary, creating a very desirable pull.
The other principle constituents in the accord are lavender and oakmoss: It was only natural; lavender by itself contains coumarin in its aromatic makeup. Thus the triad comprising the main accord of the rising fougère (i.e.lavender-oakmoss-coumarin, played together like a musical chord) made coumarin itself quite popular: many classic or influential masculine colognes owe their character to it, starting of course with Jicky and continuing with Azzaro pour Homme (1978), Fahrenheit by Dior (1988), Dolce & Gabanna pour homme (1994), and Gucci pour Homme (2003).
From there coumarin infiltrated its way into many modern fragrances belonging in other families. But it was its pliability and usefulness, like a trusty Swiss knife, which made it the perfumers' darling: Are there more contrasting fragrances than the icy aldehydic Rive Gauche (YSL 1970) and the intense floral Amarige (Givenchy 1991)? Perfumers tell me that coumarin ends up in some degree in 90% of all fragrances; and in concentrations exceeding 1% it accounts for over half of the fragrances in the market!!

• The odour profile of coumarin

Coumarin is a water-insoluble crystallized powder which has an odour that is pleasant, soft and warm, evoking cut grass or new mown hay, but it's more complex than that; it sometimes even veers into a smell of fresh paint! This is what gives Jicky its bracing almost "petrol" opening which alienates some people. Originally biosynthesized via hydroxylation, glycolisis and cinnamic acid cyclization, nowadays coumarin is produced via more sophisticated techniques.
Coumarin conjures warm notes of tobacco (useful in masculine formulae) and because it also has caramel overtones, alternatively it can be married to vanillic components (such as vanilla, benzoin or some of the other oriental balsams, such as Tolu balsam or Peru balsam, as well as ethylvanillin) in order to play down and sophisticate their foody aspects: see it in action in orientals such as the discontinued Venezia by Laura Biagotti, Lolita au Masculin(Lempicka) or Casmir by Chopard.
In dilution coumarin projects with soft hazelnut or almond facets underneath the hay, even licorice; smell Lolita Lempicka (1997). But in higher concentration it also has spicy fresh and herbaceous facets, no doubt reminiscent of its primary role in different grasses. In combination with vanillin and bergamot, we're veering into chypre territory: Elixir des Merveilles is a no man's land with its chypre tonalities and gourmand facets.
Its versatility and its ability to "fix" smell and make it last longer allows coumarin to enter amber or woody blends (witness Samsara or Vetiver by Guerlain) as well and even heighten the appeal of spicy materials: in fact it marries very well with cinnamon or clove. Pi by Givenchy is a sweet spicy woody with lots of tonka bean, or smell L de Lolita Lempicka by Maurice Roucel. Usually, indeed coumarin is mentioned in the form of tonka beans in the traditional lists of "notes"/pyramids for fragrances (see this Index for more ingredients contributing to which "note") but it can also hide underneath grassy notes, clover, lavender, or tobacco. Modern perfumers pair it with synthetic woody-amber notes such as Kephalis and Iso-E Super to surprising results. A wonderful material indeed!

• Fragrances featuring discernible amounts of coumarin

Addict (Dior)
A*men (Thierry Mugler)
Amarige (Gievnchy)
Angel ~all concentrations, esp. extrait de parfum(Thierry Mugler)
Angel Sunessence (T.Mugler)
Angel La Rose (T.Mugler)
Antidote (Victor & Rolf)
Azzaro pour Homme (Loris Azzaro)
Azzaro Elixir Bois Precieux (L.Azzaro)
Blue Jeans (Versace)
Bois des Iles (Chanel)
Brit (Burberry)
Chic for Men (Carolina Herrera)
Coco (Chanel)
Coco Mademoiselle (Chanel)
Contradiction (Calvin Klein)
Etoile de Rem (Reminiscence)
Fahrenheit (Dior)
Fieno (Santa Maria Novela)
Fougere Royal (Houbigant)
Florissa (Floris)
Gloria (Cacharel)
Jasmin Noir (Bulgari)
Jicky (Guerlain)
Joop! Homme (Joop)
Kouros (Yves Saint Laurent)
Lavande (Molinard)
L de Lolita Lempicka
Lolita Lempicka (L.Lempicka)
Le Male (Jean Paul Gaultier)
Musc (Molinard)
Navy (Lily Bermuda)
Pi (Givenchy)
Rive Gauche (YSL)
Samsara (Guerlain)
Tonka Imperiale (Guerlain)
Venezia (Laura Biagotti)
Versace pour Homme (Versace)

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfumery Materials one by one

source of coumarin pic via The Health Nut Corner, ad for Houbigant via Punmiris and Jicky collage via Perfumesbighouse

Sign of the Times (and a Little Rant)

When reading upon perfume boards one comes across an involved discussion by numerous perfume lovers about fragrances that could be aptly described by the rather ghastly term "fruitchouli", you realise that something is quite rotten in the kingdom of Perfumistadom! You might expect Tina Turner to get out the saxophones and break into "We don't need another hero fruitchouli" (beyond Thunderdom) and if you feel that way I can't blame you; who can? Three quarters of the market (at least the mainstream sector, but not exclusively) are inundated by the plague of fruitchoulis that walked the path that Angel paved and later Narciso Rodriguez diverted a bit. Talk about a snowball. But let's start at the top!

The very term "fruitchouli" was coined by an undentified perfume lover Mbanderson61, exasperated by the abysmall unoriginality that the fragrance market displays for some years now, churning out a flood of releases that mimic each other in a frenzied pace. The two main elements seem to be sweet fruity notes (a sad remnant of the anemic 90s where pastel fruits were left to substantiate "airy" or "watery" notes) and the newly refound note of patchouli, buffed and sanitized out of its hippy references and ready for its close-up, mr. De Mille. Hence the brilliance of the coinage of "fruitchouli"! It's surpemely evocative of the current trend.

Personally I would differentiate between the archetypal Angel and its clones/upstarts/homages (Angel Innocent, CK Euphoria, Coco Mademoiselle, Lolita Lempicka, Flowerbomb, Prada, Cacharel Liberté, Miracle Forever, Hypnôse and Hypnôse Senses, Nuits de Noho, Coromandel, New Haarlem...) and some other popular fragrances with patchouli, a family inaugurated by Narciso For Her (namely Lovely, Midnight Poison, YSL Elle, Gucci by Gucci, Chypre Fatal, Citizen Queen, Lady Vengeance, Perles de Lalique, Agent Provocateur...).
I would classify the former into gourmand orientals ~they're generally quite sweet and the fruitiness is more distinct, often underlined with vanilla/caramel/marshmallow/foody notes etc. The latter I would classify into floral woodies/"nouveau chypres" (technically the "new pink chypre" genre IS a floral woody; patchouli & vetiver base is considered a woody base). Michael Edwards classifies them in a seperate family within chypres (mossy woods) as well.

Making a conscious effort to sample and think about several new releases lately, I found myself bored beyond belief at the sameness encountered and my reluctancy to even bother putting a few words together for the benefit of the casual reader searching for opinions on the latest; such was the disappointment and ennui. From the uniform look, uniform style of the new Anthology line by Dolce & Gabbana to the inoffesive lappings of sweet nothings of Ricci Ricci (pity, the bottle is fabulous!) to the vinyl and "flat" rosechouli of the new Parisienne, all the way through the generic Idole d'Armani, I didn't feel myself moved beyond a cursory spray or two. When you have dedicated a personal site to fragrances and are writing on them professionally as well, this does forebode very gravely...
It's not the lack of artistry or technique in the execution of an idea, as some releases are competent. It's the idea itself that has become mundane, tired, overdone, vulgar; even though it seemed like a nice concept all those years ago! Like waking up in some Heaven where all the girls and boys look like Grace Kelly and David Beckham with a perpetual smile on their faces and delicious macrobiotic 4-course food is served at 12 sharp by white-gloved valets. After a while you just long to bring a scruffy Johny Depp and his Nabisco saltine crackers in bed, don't you!

Perhaps the most brilliant suggestion and new term/classification proposed comes from Perfume of Life's long-time member Mando who exclaims humorously (and expectantly): "I think the next wave should be "bootichouli" - chypres heavy with civet accents". If Beyoncé and Jennifer Lopez have bootylicious down pat and Kim Kardashian is famous for her derrière as well, then let's all pray that "bootichouli" can be the new trend in fragrances. Why not? It does present some technical problems, as civet is not exactly the most easy or ethical essence to harvest, but in an age where everything can be replicated in the lab using nano-technology-this and infra-technology-that, the illusion becomes much more of a reality (And there is already synthetic civetone). But that's besides the point really: The point is enough is enough! There is a ripe audience for a skanky new genre and we're cornering an increasing share of the market. Please hear us roar!

Art: Baloon Dog by Jeff Koons via flavorpill and
photo by Jemima Stelhi via files.list.co.uk