Oriflame Amber Elixir: short fragrance review

 

Amber Elixir by Oriflame remains very popular after many years and the line is populated with flankers (a couple of which are especially memorable). What makes it so special? 

 It is hard to do an amber fragrance which, firstly, doesn't recall a hundred others, and, secondly, is not heavy and cloying but instead fit for all seasons and occasions. Perfumer Vincent Schaller worked this classic Oriflame best-seller in 2007, and it has been beloved ever since due to its versatility and elegance. 

Working a light almond-heliotrope facet under the vanillic labdanum chord of amber perfumes, the scent of Oriflame Amber Elixir becomes creamy, lightly powdery, and soft like a hug from a loved one. It is like a caress rather than a warm stilting hug that crashes you and therefore it never becomes heavy or -that word people use- cloying. A malady of some other ambers, to be sure. This is comforting and a sort of diet-amber if I may say so. Which is perfect really, for my personal taste, at least. 

It's suitable for all seasons except very hot summers and can lend a contemporary touch of femininity to all ages. Available in 50 ml for €39 at the moment on the official Oriflame website.

Hermes Barenia: fragrance review

 

Hermès Barénia launched in fall 2024, exploring the contours of the fruity neo-chypre, the first of its kind at Hermès, but within in-house perfumer Christine Nagel's beloved and familiar register. After all she (co)created For Her, Si Armani, and Miss Dior Chérie, icons of the genre, as well as Archives 69.

Official carded samples of Barénia flooded my desk during my research on it, testing on different days, with different weather conditions and different mindsets. In short, I rather like it and find it successful in what it sets out to do. That is, a refined leathery chypre in the modern mould. Let's face it, those are scarce in the designer field and only really surface now in the niche sector; and not to great advantage from a commercial point of view there either. The only exceptions I can think you could find at a major department store are Bottega Veneta, and Nomade by Chloé, and of the two, one is already discontinued. So, yes, Barénia is a good pillar perfume for a collection that is set between mainstream designer and refined luxury, and you should try it out for yourselves as well before judging. The bottle is also delicious, with the emblematic collier de chien motif on the top of the glass, a design conceived in the 1940s with a playful edge. 

 In Barénia the earthy notes of patchouli are present as part of the chypre structure, with the extremely diffusive version of akigalawood, a material we tend to associate with Bisch, who overlays almost everything with it. Nagel is more bent on sclarene which adds a hot iron note in many of her creations, and a cooler quality. However, the effect here is not only peppery and metallic-sort-of, but also tart on top, especially when trying it out on the skin rather than on the blotter, where the mineral, peppery and chypre aspects are more evident. 

On the skin the top note resembles a middle ground between bergamot and grapefruit, the beloved chord of Jean Claude Ellena who worked it into a floral leather himself for Hermès in...Kelly Calèche! I suspect that just like Ellena was said to go to the leather vaults of the French brand in search of inspiration, and being met with the mimosa and rose tonalities of the tanned hides supple to the touch, Nagel was also inspired by this previous excursion. Galop is also heavily referenced, with its rosy softness and more interesting background. But the budget for creating must have been higher, considering the retail price. Still, Barénia is reminiscent of both fragrances, both Kelly Calèche and Galop. We can find nuggets of leathery Galop in Myrrhe Eglantine (a floral amber composition), and in Tutti Twilly d'Hermès (suede fruity floral).

Akigalawood, a love or hate molecule, is combined with oak wood, which adds depth to the whole, but polished into sweeter tones which rise to embrace it in the context of the fruity chypre. This woody base, combinging the moiré with the raw, exudes a suede-like leatheriness which recalls Galop without a doubt. 

It's potent at this stage, it projects excellently from the blotter and from the skin to a lesser degree (try clothes to maximize the effect) and it lasts very well. It's also feminine in an assured woman way, but could also be borrowed by men with a penchant for sophisticated scents, wearing it with flair. A few floral touches (the so-called butterfly lily accord) round out the ensemble, giving a soft touch that further butters up the leather notes. I'd wear it with joy if gifted a bottle, though I admit Galop is superior.

 Hermes Barénia notes: 

Top: Bergamot, Miracle Berry 

Middle: Butterfly Lily 

Base: Oakwood, Patchouli .

Mona di Orio Carnation: fragrance homage of a discontinued gem

"Gigi you're not at all that funny awkward little girl I knew. Over night there's been a breathless change in you. When did your sparkle turn to fire and your warmth become desire, oh, what miracle has made you the way you are?" 

  CARNATION by Mona di Orio was created by the late perfumer as homage to the French writer's heritage – "I created Carnation as a tribute to Colette, my favorite writer. Carnation tells a story of wet skin from the sun, of perturbing intimacy, of a boudoir with sensual chypre fragrances. The nectars of flowers stand out, highlighted by leather, evoking a masculine facet of disconcerting seduction." 

                                Franz Xaver Winterhalter, Portrait of Countess Varvara Musina-Pushkina

 The fragrance by Mona di Orio is neither cantered on carnation the flower, nor the sentimental notions of femininity as a created vision of a creature to be cherished in apostasy. Carnation by Mona di Orio is a living and breathing thing, a woman whose carnation, her texture, her very skin is glowing with the desire that warmth and life has instilled in her, made her the way that she is. Mature, inquisitive, all aglow. 

 Mona di Orio dashed past us, with deliciously beautiful fragrances and disappeared into the boundless darkness of the unknown due to a surgery gone wrong. As much in love with scent as her favorite writer, the pupil of the great Edmond Roudnitska, she created her own brand Mona di Orio Parfums in 2004. Carnation by Mona di Orio is a Amber Floral fragrance for women and men, launched in 2006. The house, managed by her partners, has now been finally closed. 

The nose behind Carnation is Mona di Orio. Top notes are Bourbon Geranium and Bergamot; middle notes are Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Violet and Precious Woods; base notes are Styrax, Amber and Musk.

Carner Barcelona El Born: fragrance review

The winding cobbled streets flow seamlessly into the old stones of medieval times, witness to Barcelona’s history reprised by Carner Barcelona. Plants and flowers tumble down from tiny decorated balconies sharing scenery with vintage stores, pastelerías, cafeterías, old bookshops, wine bars… A group of old friends playing cards, youngsters discussing by the edge of the fountains, tourists enjoying a glass of champagne… this is El Born, a unique atmosphere where even the XIVth century church Santa Maria de Mar seems to want to go unnoticed, just being another spectator of the show. 

                              photo borrowed from Pinterest

This is how we're meant to envision the concept behind the fragrance of El Born, an organic outpouring of the Spanish cultural landscape. To me it's a sweetish, rum-like, deep and honeyed vanilla which lends itself easily to cooler weather, but not necessarily as dense as some other sticky gourmand vanillas. 

The synergy of angelica and citruses in El Born by Carner Barcelona cuts through the juvenile sweetness and the deep resins surface to push it into ambery-balsamic territory. A quirky vanilla full of subtly savoury touches, plush and full, through which a slicing scimitar of botanical rush cuts it open. Perfect for cool weather. 

Manos Gerakinis Parfums Sillage X: fragrance review

 Not coincidentally, the new Sillage X commemorates the 10th anniversary of the Greek niche brand founded by Manos Gerakinis as a project that is destined for a customer pursuing the refined things in life and the greatest luxury of them all: time. This is why Manos Gerakinis divulged to me in an interview that he takes his time to develop his fragrances; he doesn't rush to cater to the latest trend because he knows it will look like a quick grab and no soul, destined to not last. 

Created to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Manos Gerakinis Parfums, Sillage X is a thoughtful yet positively joyful olfactive reflection on the passage of time and what remains timeless. 

Although Sillage X is presented as a predominantly vetiver scent, it does not project as one. It is neither green nor fresh in the sense of all those summer vetivers that have been linked to airy and crunchy smellscapes, as classical as Guerlain's Vetiver and Carven's Vetiver. The citruses do burst like angels from the skies to sing their bright message of joy, but the fragrance soon turns into something different than a cologne. It's a thing of its own, terpenic, dry, delicious, and woody-spicy— a sillage that is leaving a trail of mystery behind it. Tempered but still substantial, smooth yet also somewhat durable. 

The main delectable note is black pepper (piper negrum), a note that the wide public is biased against, mainly because when they read "pepper," they're equating the smell with the flavor and fear things that make people around them sneeze. Of course, no such thing is true, either of the oil (which I love!) nor of the generous use of it in the formula of Sillage X. The spiciness is just right, balancing the citruses on top and giving that delicious durability to the heart, which grows out in the iris direction; starchy, earthy, nicely rounded and yet fresh too, reminiscent of juniper and cedarwood. Black pepper has the great quality to bring into focus elements that would otherwise recede to the background, and in Sillage X, this is eminently showcased. As my colleague Mat wrote about another instance, "In order to make a full-bodied black pepper aroma, you have to "extend" it by something weighty. In this case, the perfumer chose to do it with the help of various woods. Coming in second in importance, the note of cedar, dry, coniferous, and woody, peeks out soon enough and supports the savory theme of black pepper recalling cedar nuts, cutting board, and juniper wood trivets." 

If you're wary of fennel, on the other hand, rest assured that its touch of anethole is discreet here; there's no risk of you smelling of pastis. On the contrary, allied to the other spicy components, it brings on a degustation balance, the calm and serenity of a great dinner—all things in good order and in measured portions. 

Sillage X (2024)

perfumer: Vasiliki Psatha

Top notes: Bergamot, Lemon, Mandarin

Heart notes: Vetiver, Black Pepper, Cardamom, Fennel Seed

Base notes: Cedar, Moss, Patchouli

Comme des Garçons Zagorsk (Incense Series): fragrance review

Zagorsk by Comme des Garçons is among the less mentioned specimens in the Japanese-centrifuge brand's collection of fragrances inspired by various incenses used as burning materials around ther world. Comme des Garçons was among the first to explore the idea that people have cultural associations with burned materials. "Incense," after all, comes from the Latin verb meaning "to burn." They launched not one but five scents in their iconic Incense Series, each geographically codified to appeal to a specific sensibility and religious context. 

                               Gordana Ristic, pic borrowed from Pinterest

In the case of frankincense, which happens to be the main material of ecclesiastical incense -the kind that is burned in censers in Christian Orthodox and Catholic churches- the association with church is a given, even for the non-pious. The emanations from the church escape into the air, and the congregation has fumigated their clothes during service just enough, so that a subtle trail can be caught by a sensitive nose outside afterwards. 

 Zagorsk, composed by Evelyn Boulanger, is fittingly dedicated to the Eastern orthodox churches. I picture them on Eastern European soil as a solace from the cold, but also bearing the birch (leathery, tarry) and fir atmosphere of the outside, the coniferous tonalities that befit countries of vast forests. Plus I detect a clean clove note, embracing the cold, which is inextricably tied to my mind with Russia and Eastern Europe; those Soviet carnation scents must have been at the root of that. It's perfect for winter weather and it is alongside Vert d' Encens by Tom Ford, lamentably discontinued, a green incense that defies that cliche of heavy and cloying incenses that are so full of balsams that they cease to smell of frankincense and turn like orientalized soups of lead-ladden notes. Worth seeking out for a long-drawn sniff. 

Affinissence Vanille Benjoin: fragrance review

I am not entirely convinced that AFFINISSENCE's plan of marketing (and that of creation?) succeeds in creating seamless canvases of hues, with their professed aim of monochromatic chasms between top and base notes. Supposedly they do not mesh programmatically, yet they have to in the end, otherwise they'd smell flat and off, which they emphatically do not. The collections are divided into Notes de Fond (base notes), Notes de Coeur (heart notes) and Notes de Tête (top notes). 

                                   Jeremy Willens, pic borrowed from Pinterest

Vanille Benjoin is part of the Notes de Fond collection. It's important to note the timeline of the brand, as I'm sensing it began as something less complicated. AFFINESSENCE began as a niche French brand, launched in 2015 with the first four fragrances (Cedre Iris, Patchouli Oud, Santal Basmati, and Vanille Benjoin) followed by Cuir Curcuma and Musc Amber Gris in 2017. The collection was unique then, by the base notes concept of the owner, Sophie Bruneau, who decided to translate her passion for intense, rich, and long-lasting fragrances, and especially for their deep base note accords, as the leading ingredients in her line. So naturally, no pun intended, the following collections were undertaken as points of departure when the intended base note materials had been explored. 

 The brand described Vanille Benjoin in the following words: 

"In order to present this extraordinary "marriage" of ingredients Affinessence combines two types of vanilla (Tahitian vanilla absolute with the intense scent of leather and the sweet aromas of Madagascan vanilla absolute). This blend is combined with the so-called alter-ego, Siamese benzoin, a fragrant resin originating from Laos which is highly respected for its balmy, almond-like shades. For the strong, irresistible trail, scents of ambroxan, tonka, Moroccan and Chinese cedar were used, placing benzoin and vanilla in the transcendent, providing amazing strength." 

 Despite it being a vanilla it's one that references a unisex scent that was originally launched for...men. So whatever you sex, feel safe to explore this one. 

 Vanille Benjoin was developed by perfumer Corine Cachen. She must have been influenced by the style of Menardo, especially for Bvlgari Black from 1999, now discontinued. Or following the skeleton of this leather-powdery tension (which is also evident in the classic Habanita, especially in the 1980s versions and a teeny tiny part only in Bois Farine by Jean Claude Ellena - minus the peanut butter note in that one!) 

 Side by side with Bvlgari Black the Affinissence scent projects with an initially sharper top note, which smells a little higher in pitch. It then softens into the heliotrope-suede-almond-vanilla tonalities that we're associating with the flou accord of hazy dark clouds of a smoky atmosphere somewhere warm and cosy. It's that musky vanilla that people who like mystery and intrigue in their perfumes most appreciate. Whether it may fulfil the longing in the hearts of those missing Bvlgari Black remains to be seen whilst trying it out for yourselves and living with Vanille Benjoin Affinessence for a short while, so samples are highly recommended.

Diptyque Lunamaris: fragrance review

 Lunamaris by Diptyque, part of the new collection Les Essences, inspired by rare natural materials, managed to capture my attention and eventually my preference within the new line-up. It's a sleeper, that I suspect will please a lot of people if only given a chance to try it out. It grows on you. This fragrance genre has an affinity for prompting introspection and daydreaming, akin to listening to Eric Satie and his collective opus of Gymnopédies and Gnossiennes. Music that eases the mind and set forth a spiritual mood, with restrained sentimentality and low vibration sounds that stir the senses in a non flamboyant way. It's excellent for doing mental work, as its lack of words helps with concentration and -much like baroque music, though in a different way- it aids the mind to put a flow into thoughts. 

                    photo via pinterest

 The intention was transliterating the effect of mother of pearl or nacré into a scent. Perfumer Fabrice Pelegrin worked on the dual nature of mother-of-pearl, iridescent and whiteish, with a combination of resins. Cistus labdanum and frankincense-myrrh are played into the effects of the structure. It gives a fresh, cool ambience backed by subtle warmth which blooms on the skin when the fragrance is finally settling. To transliterate this beauty and dream-like quality into a fragrance it needed materials and chords that echo this subtlety and low-key dazzling of the senses. Perfume lovers can think of some: irises, metallic effects, shimmery incense effects, mineral chords, rose oxides... No innovation then in the composite parts of Lunamaris the fragrance, but excellent execution, something I'm giving more and more attention to. An incense with spicy notes and a fresh feeling, it easily comes through victorious. The poetic name, which unites the notions of the moon (luna) and the sea (maris) creates a tension that almost pre-empts the image of a dark nightime seascape where the silvery path of moonbeams sheds its magic upon the waters. It's dreamy in itself. 

                              photo via pinterest

 The myrrh and labdanum components give Lunamaris a vibrant feel, bittersweet and mysterious and almost abstract. I also detect a certain rosiness, the kind that is vegetal, pure, botanical and not liquer-ish or femininely floral. This is attributed to pink peppercorns, or in French baies roses. Of course Diptyque has cemented a cult favouring of their legendary Baies candle, so it fits effortlessly into their fine fragrances too. Contrary to what most people associate with pepper or peppercorns, baies have a rosy texture, adding flavour and aroma but no real heat to the palate when tasted. Therefore the subtle spiciness and the becoming, rosy aroma contributes to fragrances in a way that cannot be tagged retro under any guise, fully justifying why perfumers have used pink pepper with abandon in the last couple of decades in contemporary compositions. This was exploited in Toy Boy by Moschino too, recently, in order to give a non feminine feel to a fragrance geared towards men. 

 Overall the scent of Lunamaris is dry, completely unisex, devoid of any retro or stereotypically feminine or masculine traits and produces that zen quality we associate with an experience at a temple or a high-end spa retreat. It is clean and definitely minimalist luxury. There is also a musk inside which I suspect is Cashmeran, adhering to the skin in a very nice way, and yet projecting fine to others coming into the radius of its appealing aura. The lasting power is also very good, tenacious over the course of a working day.

Available as Eau de Parfum. 

Lanvin Oxygene: fragrance review

 Everything old is new again and now that things aqueous and lightly transparent, with a mist of cool fresh air like Drop d'Issey, are making ripples, it's time for a comeback for those musky, airy, cool and dewy fragrances that defined an era. The presentation for Oxygène by Lanvin followed the trend for diaphanous or light blue (Light Blue anyone?) bottles that dominated the 1990s and up to the millennium. Then pink erupted and has never left us since. Indeed nowadays blueish bottles are almost solely geared to men.

The olfactory reception I get in Oxygène is quite something, as it recalls and depicts vividly one of my favorite flowers, the wisteria, or glycine in French. It's an early spring flower and, therefore, associated with cool air, dewiness, and a certain hesitant expectation. The heat and the sun have not come in to orgiastically lavish upon it. Its peppery spiciness, inherent also in mauve lilacs, is due to eugenol. I begrudge L'Artisan Parfumeur for discontinuing their lovely scented candle Sous la Glycine - Under the Wisteria - which remade the effect to perfection. (If the good people at the head office are reading, please bring it back!)

Delicately floral, with a subtle spicy note of clove, the central chord in the Lanvin Oxygène' fragrance recreates the beautiful, utterly gorgeous scent of the mauve, hanging grappes of wisteria, perched like bunches of decadent grapes over terraces, latticework and verandas in early spring. A fusion of spicy goodness reveals itself from the core: a middle road between peppery twinkle, a clove note, and carnations, with a side of a somewhat oily green nuance reminiscent of hyacinth and lilacs.

pic borrowed via pinterest

I do not get real milky notes, not the potable kind nor the milky body lotion type, which is prized among millennial women. It could only be said that there is a faint whiff of creaminess in the musk, but it is the overwhelming impression of white musk - redolent of white flowers and lilies - specifically that does it, not the milk or sandalwood, really. A very subtle hint of vanilla fuses with the headiness of the base. Any sweetness is due to the musks. On the other hand, Oxygène's freshness of citric notes and ozone in the initial spray is very perceptible and, to me, delectable; they recall that long-lost zingggg that scents of designer brands used to do so well back then.

Lanvin's scent Oxygène can be bought at discounters and online at relatively low prices nowadays.

Related reading: The History of the Lanvin House

Jean Paul Gaultier Le Beau Paradise Garden: fragrance review

 Le Beau Paradise Garden by Jean Paul Gaultier is "a tribute to the Garden of Gaultier, filled with vibrant flowers and enticing scents. It masterfully blends the salty coconut's freshness with the green fig's lushness and sandalwood's soothing warmth. Hints of zesty ginger, cool mint, and sun-drenched tonka bean enhance the fragrance's green aquatic and woody character, making it an ideal embodiment for energetic and passionate men." 

pic borrowed via pinterest

Does it deliver? Yes, it surprisingly does. Perfumer du jour Quentin Bisch masterfully composed this fragrance as a woody, green, aquatic melody, capturing the divine atmosphere of a tropical haven in an Eau de Parfum for men concentration. 

Drawing inspiration from the Jean Paul Gaultier Autumn/Winter fashion collection of 2010-2011, imagine a lush, enchanting garden named "Le Beau Paradise Garden" and "La Belle Paradise Garden," a haven of intense delights and fervent desires. The box with its paradisaical pro-lapsarian motifs and the bottle with the green hue and the delicately woven codpiece attached are very pleasing to the eye. Picture a bottle of striking beauty: an emerald-green glass ornately embroidered with a vibrant vine leaf, boasting exquisite, high-fashion details. 

Le Beau Paradise Garden by Gaultier now encompasses the saltiness of Mugler's Womanity (a stand in for the genitals hidden by a fig leaf?) with its fig overtones for the main chord and buttresses them up in delicious coumarin-rich tonka bean. This gives a tasty dessert quality to the mix, creating a good tension between the salty and the sweet without succumbing to either. Although we can't expect something too innovative, since the main chords have been done before and tonka beans are everywhere apparently in later years, I find it a balanced composition. Coconut is more reminiscent of coconut water than shredded coconut sweets, which can become too sweet. In the original Le Beau I found the coconut rather too much, as I'm sensitive, but here it's just right. It's more aqueous overall, with hints of the pre-lapsarian Garden of Eden — green, damp, wet, and creamy. Tonka, after all, is in the same compound class as lactones, and it makes sense to pair them. 

It does come across a bit synthetic, because —hey! — it is synthetic, but the entire market is synthetic anyway. Yet it's mild, quite fresh, mouth watering, not really botanical (which is usually associated with men's fragrances), and I'm pretty sure it wouldn't insult anyone. 

Official fragrance notes for JP Gaultier Le Beau Paradise Garden: 

TOP NOTES Aquatic Notes, Mint, Ginger, Fresh Greenery
MIDDLE NOTES: Salty Coconut, Green Fig
BASE NOTES: Sandalwood, Tonka Beans

L' Erbolario Assenzio: fragrance review

Although Assenzio Aqua di Profumo by Italian pharmacist-inspired brand L' Erbolario is an older scent, I only truly discovered it last year, testing it again and again, and contemplating a full bottle of my own for the coming months. 

via pinterest

The Italian name means absinth and it effortlessly recalls ringlets of fragrant smoke rising from a censer into the ethers, which is totally fitting for days of recollection and pensiveness, since incense is usually burnt into a censer and left to rise. Frankincense has a citrusy top note and this is beautifully fanned out in Assenzio, where the citrus and herbal part (bitterish artemisia and wormwood) is the introduction to the hazy, billowy development. 

Perfume lovers have beautiful and zen-quality words to say about it. Silver Hiccup writes in Fragrantica, "Assenzio is ultimately a very gentle, flowy scent, like a fluffy cloud that envelops you. I can admit that for me, it may carry a sense of melancholy."  Cerise Noir writes, "I love this powdery, herbal sweetness. Makes me feel so clean and calm." Abraham 7 says, "An ancient, green, relaxing charm."

Others, like Kioflare are mixed: "The opening is really quite masculine, astringent and not particularly pleasant [...] reminds me in a sense of Penhaligon's Blenheim Bouquet, which I was not particularly fond of. This goes on for about 15-20 min. The drydown showcases its truly marvellous and gentle side. That is the real unisex herbal talcum [...] becomes a bit chalky sweet, the herbs shine through, but they leave a gentle and warm impression, like a green powdery caress."

Although Assenzio has been compared to Felce Azzura, the famous shower gel and dusting powder products from Italy, another South-eastern European reference that is often conflated with incense, due to the dry soapy-piney ambience, it is not a replication of that (admittedly amazing) scent. But it's worth trying all the same, because the herbal qualities will appeal to lovers of the Italian classic of grooming all the same. 

Best of all? This quiet scent has an array of ancillary products to enjoy from morning till bed-time... Bliss. 

NB. The Aqua di Profumo concentration is the equivalent of Eau de Toilette. 

 

Official notes for Assenzio by L' Erbolario:

Top notes are Wormwood, Amalfi Lemon and Orange.
Middle notes are Artemisia, Coriander, Lavender and Cardamom.
Base notes are Musk, Carnation, Geranium, Patchouli, Benzoin and Cedar.

Narciso Rodriguez All of Me: fragrance review

 Boring is a disparaging term for perfume such as the latest All of Me by Narciso Rodriguez, since this is a product relying on fantasy: excitement, anticipation, pleasure. However, as we know, boring can smell gorgeous too, just not particularly new or pushing the envelope. And that's fine, we need some boring fragrances too I guess.  

That would have been OK, if Narciso Rodriguez and the Group behind it, Shiseido, actually continued on the road of the white and black "cubes" of the Narciso collection. But it seems that after a while on that road they missed a significant turning or something and the whole trip derailed. 

I have adored the For Her eau de toilette from the first moment it launched and I have been so outspoken about it ever since, starting with Osmoz, that I feel somewhat personally proud of its enduring footprint in the industry. Imagine then my dismay when some of the best in the NR collection, namely the white and black "cube" fragrances have been discontinued. The rest in the collection have not been wowing me either; pretty, yes, but ultimately not advancing the brand. After a while, the subsequent editions in the For Her line, have also become kinda staid and stilted.

All of Me did not make wild promises, it talked about the mainstays in the world of pretty, feminine, office-friendly fragrances that make Chloé scents a popular mainstay in the department store aisles. Lots of women love them and cherish them and they do look good on a vanity, I'll give them that. However the Narciso Rodriguez brand is not Chloé, even though according to official data they did sell 1 bottle every 6 seconds in 2022 (according to the Shiseido website). The NR aesthetics bring on less apologetic versions of pretty, from the models chosen, to the shape of the bottles and the presentation, not to mention the more straightforward fashions themselves.

Nevertheless, the newest fragrance after all this optical expectation seems limp-wristed, hesitant, yet persistent enough in the screechy version of synthesized roses -with a touch of Frambinone maybe?- which bring on the impression that you're poised between something going bad and a headache blooming at the back of your eyes, like intense light blinding you. 

The characteristic musk component of the Rodriguez brand has rather gone amiss in All of Me and only the fabric softener notes remain behind, with an aldehydic touch of soapiness and aquatic tonality buttressing the rose and geranium essences, making them sickly sweetish for my personal taste. Mind you, I'm particularly sensitive to that effect, so your mileage may vary on that score.

All Of Me was created by Dora Baghriche and Daphné Bugey, who have probably been given a brief to follow closely by Firmenich with which they work, and it launched in 2023. The official top note is Magnolia; the middle notes are Rose and Bourbon Geranium; the base notes are Musk and Sandalwood.

Eau de Lancaster: fragrance review (1997 edition)

art by Antonio Mora via pinterest

Contrary to colognes that take their time to establish the synthetically enhanced citrus notes before sinking into an indelible loop of scrubbed musk, the depths of Eau de Lancaster seem to appear almost immediately under the effervescent affluence of soapy hesperides (no doubt thanks to aldehyde attributed to coriander in the pyramid). Like a lining that's beginning to show at the point of overstretched seams, it hints at what's beneath. 

 The third edition by Lancaster chronologically, which is circulating nowadays in online retailers, circles back and revisited Eau de Lancaster for men from 1977, with the same name and a much more architectural design for the bottle: subtly fluted, curvaceous, beautifully simple and diaphanous, highlighting the light green shade of its juice (the photo below is leaning a bit more blue-ish than green as is in reality). This Eau de Lancaster relaunched in 1997 with yet another different set of notes, but it's really a revisiting of the original theme: a starched white shirt of a scent. 

 The latest edition of the 1997 bottle also circulates as Lancaster Grace in eau de toilette concentration, 125ml / 4.2 fl.oz.size, and this time aimed at women only (though not quite, it's all about the name, really). Definitely an allusion to the princess of Monaco, Grace Kelly, the patron saint of Lancaster, but also not so amiss as a reference to the glorious, magnificent scent of the fragrance itself. A lovely, fresh, silky olfactory landscape that is clean and natural referencing, creating an aura of gentility and class. The truly rich do not draw attention via their fragrance of choice; they let it speak in murmurs. 

Those who like fragrances like Eau de Cartier, Pomelatto Artemisia 67, Eau de Rochas, Clarins Eau Dynamissante and the like, should try this out. 

 Notes by Fragrantica: Bergamot, coriander, basil, lavender, mandarin, palisander rosewood, lily, floral notes, jasmine, peach, oakmoss, amber, vanilla.

Laura Biagotti Laura: fragrance review

Laura Biagiotti's iconic Laura, with its aqueous character, has been so characteristic of its era that 30 years later it still springs forth in our minds as a 1990s staple, alongside L’Eau d’Issey (1992), L’Eau Par Kenzo (1996), Aqua di Gio (1996), Escape For Men (1993),and Eden by Cacharel (Indeed, I recently wrote a dedicated fragrance review & homage to Cacharel's Eden).

Perfumer Anne Flipo's composition from 1994 for Laura became an essential accessory for women, enveloping her like a gentle scarf without overwhelming her personality. Operative words: not overwhelming. You have to see a woman's eyes before you smell her perfume, so went the old piece of advice on fragrance-wearing etiquette. The so-called olfactory bouquet in Laura is delicate and fruity above all, with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek provided by the synergy of the 1990s trademark Calone note, giving it melon-like tonalities and peachy lactones coupled with fruit accords like litchi. The inclusion of litchi fruit (or lychee, as it's also spelled) was novel at the time. The scent profile of litchi is close to that of a very juicy grape, with a mild flavor that is aqueous, delicately rosy, and temperately sweet. The likening with some Gewürztraminer variety wines comes as no surprise: the lychee-rosy aroma is common thanks to the magic of the cis-rose oxide, a common thread in all three subjects—flowers, fruit, and wine. Ethereal, doe-eyed, and tender are also words that come to mind when I think of Laura by Laura Biagiotti. It's aqueous and watery, to be sure, and the effect of Calone contributes to that. But it's a calm lake rather than a vast, tempestuous sea.

Versace Crystal Noir: fragrance review of enduring best-seller

Lately I have been noticing a strange phenomenon which brought about this examination. Versace's post-millennium child, Crystal Noir from 2004, has been the über perennial for each and every occasion on the Fragrantica members' collections! The members come from far and between, dressed in many guises among eclectic collections, but the bottom-line is always the same: Crystal Noir comes across as the perfect passe-partout fragrance for a very wide audience. Fit for day, sexy by night. This is why it has endured for 20 years to the day.

I am not such an ardent fan of it, but I do get the crowd-pleasing aspect of it very well. It's very easy to wear and mingles with the skin. The presentation with the lid that seems like it takes Herculean capacity to lift helps, too. Capitalizing on the mysterious allure of both purple and black and revisiting the Tom Ford ads element of women reclining with men over them, it catches the eye in a somewhat tacky way. The marrying of a floral note hidden inside a soft, mellow cocoon creates this impression of being immersed in clotted cream. Cream brings on thoughts of gluttony, indulgence, pampering and also whiteness. White also brings to mind gardenias (supposedly in the heart of Crystal Noir's floral chord, though I don't really discern it as such) and shredded coconut whites, all delicious and tropical. White and tropical don't really mix together, mentally, but in this case they do and — lo and behold! — it makes for the converging of territories. We can feel clearly the white floral hint creamed in coconut and deliciously comfy materials of milky woods, fluffy clean musks and a mental interjection of a hot white towel impression. It's worthy of a spa, yet oddly sexy and beckoning-come-hither, too. No wonder it's the fragrance for day and night, for business or pleasure, for just abut any woman. If she's shy she can comfort herself that it's her armour. If she's bold, she can cajole her fancier moods by saying to herself she's always the lady (and she is).

Cacharel Eden: fragrance review & musings on contemporaneity

 Cacharel's Eden from 1994 is the precursor of neon green compositions like Mark Jacobs Decadence and Thierry Mugler's Aura, which were introduced as so trailblazing in recent years, but they're not. Considering that the latter with its green rhubarb-gardenia accord in the eau de parfum has sparked comments of very herbal mouthwash, grassy soil, muddy swamps and musty cellars, bugs and bug poison, etc., it's not unfathomable that Eden has also been rather challenging for modern audiences as well.

 Back then, nevertheless, it was "the newest Cacharel" and its youth appeal was palpable. Every teenage girl and budding woman has fond memories and references in everything Cacharel made. There was no frog in sight, only princes.

The opening of Eden blends luminous citrus notes but also the sharpness of grassy-sweet patchouli, a hint of the jungle. Something untamed and lurking in the background. The cold water freshness of water lily (or lotus or pond lily) in the heart is combined with a complex, heady mix of floral notes (tuberose, mimosa, jasmine, rose and lily-of-the-valley) and sweet juicy fruits (of which pineapple and melon are probably the most referenced, though they smell of neither, per se, as the molecule used was Calone, as was customary back in the era).

The water notes are in perfect harmony with sharp patchouli and the warm, woody base of cedar and sandalwood and probably vetiver too, creating the terrain of the bog of a sorceress. Perhaps Eden shouldn't be recalling Eve, but rather Lilith, the first bewitching woman. The more the fragrance stays on, the sweeter it becomes, with a faint whiff of the compote peaches in rubber of Gucci Rush. Or rather the two are on the crossroads of fruity chypre and floral oriental, borrowing elements of either style and re-jingling the kaleidoscope to create a new image, a sort of musical-style Dear Prudence rendered olfactive — especially in the version sung by Siouxsie and the Banshees in Venice.

Puredistance Papilio -Spring Awakenings: fragrance review & musings

 Papilio, the latest Puredistance fragrance, almost coaxes a butterfly to sit upon your shoulder: Its realistic depiction of a magnolia tree in bloom, of the fresh, lightly green scent of far off jasmine vines, the hint of greenery, the almost musky suede foil for its precious bottle is unparalleled. Everything about Papilio is lyrical and like a poem's cadenza; everything about it is a work of art.

butterflies by panpan on we heart it via pinterest

What will I ever do when I run out of my small sprayer? I'd be at a loss... Seriously, without the dramatics of a perfume collector who is always contemplating the end of their pleasure measured in missed sprays, like J.Afred Prufrock measures his life in coffee spoons, it's something to savor to the very end.

When Nathalie Feisthauer took on the creation of PUREDISTANCE Papilio, which launched back in 2023, magic happened. Soft citruses, heliotrope, and berry-stained palms of summers spent outdoors came back in the guise of colorful butterflies. Papilio got its name after the founder of PUREDISTANCE twisted the French word for butterfly, papillon. Seemingly entirely floral, but the soft leather and luxurious silky woods in Papilio wrap the memory into a creation irresistible among all floral suede compositions — it feels like being caressed by dewy petals!
 
It's difficult to contemplate just what makes a floral synthesis wonderful, just like it is difficult to render separate the effects felt by the intricate, but seemingly effortless composition of ikebana. Where one thread begins, another completes its course, rendering the final result silky and homogenous, without compromise to expectations for disparate effects, surprises and awe. Papilio caresses with the silky feel of a cool spring morning that raises your skin into goosebumbs just before the sunrays warm it up, the magnolias offered upwards to the sky in full bloom.

It's joyful and contemplative at the same time — a rite of spring, indeed.

Stylistically, it recalls the best days of L'Artisan Parfumeur, when they innovated with delicate compositions that seemingly brought nature on your plate, so to speak. Dewy, cool, green...in the ballpark of Jardins de Bagatelle and Cristalle eau de parfum.

Or maybe it's the idealized effect of nature, all Galatea-like, standing in front of an awe-struck Pygmalion, the tale of antiquity which prompted so many reflections about the relationship between creator and work of art.
The main office and design center of PUREDISTANCE is located in the Netherlands. In a historical building a small creative team — guided by visionary founder Jan Ewoud Vos — designs and refines the artistic world of PUREDISTANCE. All Puredistance products consist of high quality ingredients and components and are assembled by hand with great care, passion and a strong eye for detail. We have often reviewed them with this in mind.

It is also important to note that all PUREDISTANCE fragrances are only available as Pure Perfume / Extrait de parfum in perfume oil concentrations that vary between 25-32%. This is no different. They project moderately, with utter class, eschewing the hyped "beast mode" of the consumer who wants to get noticed, but last long on the skin.

Puredistance Papilio set and sizes

Papilio by Puredistance is available as extrait de parfum in 17ml (175 euros), 60ml (295 euros), and 100ml with handmade leather folder (490 euros) at the official Puredistance website and e-store. 

In Athens, Greece, it is available in the King George boutique at Syntagma Square.

Etat Libre d'Orage Exit the King: fragrance review

 When Etat Libre d'Orange introduced Exit the King as a soapy fragrance to the perfume loving crowd it was lost upon the majority that the tale derived from not Shakespeare, but a surrealist play of the same name by Ionesco.

open rose peonies kleenexArabia on X via pinterest

From the feeling of well-being in classical times (when people used a mix of ashes and olive oil) to the purification concept in later Christianity, all the way to its ambiguous modern connotations of both Puritanical "cleanliness next to godliness" and the loaded innuendo of superficially washing away improper smells deriving from fornication, the history of soap is full of interesting trivia and manifestations of perception put before smell.

 Perfumers Ralf Schwieger and Cecille Matton created Exit the King, which launched in 2020. Presented as a chypre, whose name and story refer to Eugene Ionesco’s play from 1962, the fragrance is the third instalment of what appears to be the founder Etienne de Swardt‘s perfume narrative about perfumery itself. Here however, the name of the king who is about to exit, to die, isn’t Berenger. It is Etienne himself and when the curtain rises, the narrative sees Etienne already yielded in submission to a new sovereign, a woman named Lola, sentenced to lose his head. Before the deadly final act, Etienne presents his last perfume, a new chypre for the new world coming after him.

 Etienne was put down on record saying, “I think that I have to reinvent Etat Libre D’Orange a little bit,” he said. “I want to move the brand to a new era. I’m trying to find a new way to extend the brand’s visibility without corrupting the philosophy. I have 28 perfumes and I cannot add a 29th or a 30th. So I think this is the end of a cycle."

Hence Fin du Monde (end of the world), see what he did there?

 This is a different take on word play, Exit the King is exiting the concept of both soap and chypre, which are part of its presentation. It's ROSE first and foremost.

  In Exit the King we are met with a strong and very discernible rose, dense and dry like pot pourri, which rises with a mock sweet element from the bottom up. It's felt upon spraying on skin and it rises and surfaces again and again as the scent dries. Is it good? It is if you like roses. It can be a little too rosy if you're averse to them, especially if the dried-up varieties put in a bowl bring elements of melancholia and a certain miserliness in you. It's rather easy to wear, as a personal fragrance, like most newer ELDO fragrances are. I do yearn for some of the old revolutionary spirit in the French brand by Etienne, but hey, monarchy is also an obsolete institution too. In Exit the King, the play by Ionesco finds its surrealistic realization indeed. Nothing is as it seems.

Montale Luban -incense with guts: fragrance review

 There is a serenity but also a dark horror surrounding incense. The zen and the apocryphal. Which is which, each time? While Kilian's Incense Oud composition is overwhelmingly frankincense dominant rather than aloeswood (oudh), which is exactly why I like it so much, in Montale's Louban, the dominance of frankincense betrays the given pyramid and audience's impressions: there is no distinct oudh with its usual bitter, medicinal and smoky nuance, but neither is it associated with the Middle East, being more reminiscent of Ethiopian dry landscapes with their resinous bushes and trees. 

Nummen by Husvik, via Pinterest

 

Mysterious citrusy-pine effects zing at the top of Montale Louban, as sour and crystal clear white frankincense does (after all, this is what luban means according to our Arab speaking readers) and this overwhelms the nostrils initially. A phase that may be considered sharp by non-mystics, but necessary for the spiritual uplifting and purification that frankincense brings - literally and figuratively.

And because the heat is rising as we speak, coupled with Saharan sand winds that travel over the Mediterranean, this dry incense has been keeping me company for the gloomiest days when the sky is cast with this alien shade of orange-grey that denotes a Saharan gust of sand storm...It's priceless.

Dior Dolce Vita: fragrance review of a perfumery classic

Photo by Bianca Czarnock on behance, borrowed for educational purposes

 

Dior's Dolce Vita fetes its 30th anniversary this year, being launched in 1994, when Dior was very careful with its new launches and the firm was creating mega-hits that shattered antagonism in one fell swoop. The promise of happiness, exuberance and confidence in Dolce Vita, in its flamboyant and optimistic package, looked smashing. A drop of sunshine, dropped magically in your lap, for special moments and for making it your own.

The scent of Dolce Vita by Dior indeed smells as voluptuous and sensuous as Anita Ekberg looks in the classic Fellini film La Dolce Vita. It was under the direction of legendary director Maurice Roger that Dolce Vita came to be, composed by Pierre Bourdon.

Under Roger's direction Dior's iconic perfume, Poison, was born in 1984, launched with much aplomb, as well as Fahrenheit in 1988 and later in 1994 the subject of our story, Dolce Vita. The fuzzy peach fruitiness in Dolce Vita is part of its succes. The effect, possible since at least Mitsouko by Guerlain in 1917, is mainly accountable to γ-undecalactone and despite many other molecular options today, it is still used by perfumers. The scent thus becomes wondrously sensual, with a fuzzy feel akin to caressing the skin of a peach or a smooth epidermis still with vellus hair, all tactile contours. Just beautiful. With the addition of baked goods cinnamon, the pleasantry in the fragrance is exponentially increased. The inclusion of palissander, commonly known as rosewood, is what ties the comfortable woody backdrop with the gourmand impression of the more delectable notes and makes for a soft, pliable, squishy feminine woody. 

Happiness in Dolce Vita lies in sweet accords that immediately seize you by the taste buds: warm cinnamon, spicy cardamom adding a middle-eastern touch, and the juicy lushness of soft apricots and lush peaches. An accent of juicy citrus puts a welcome dash of sharpness so as not to lose the bones amidst the plush. The magnolia, key within the floral bouquet, puts a spin on the citrusy fruitiness and almost lends air to the molecules. It feels expansive and melodious in the air at this stage. Finally the composition renders woody and soft notes: as the scent of Dolce Vita dries down the notes of palissander with heliotrope and vanilla beckon you even closer. It's a come hither of a scent, yet exuberant and confident too. 

I have dedicated an anniversary article to Dolce Vita on Fragrantica, if you care to read in its entirety.