Hermes Un Jardin sur le Nil: fragrance review

 My friend Chandler Burr unfolded the story of how the charming and cerebral Jean Claude Ellena was inspired for this fragrance in a New Yorker piece which catapulted a series of events for both him and perfumery reportage. Looking for the starting point of inspiration in Aswan, traveling the Nile, aquatic plants gave way to unripe mangoes as the team of Hermès travelled up to the roots of the great river. An aura of coolness enveloped the French perfumer: he now had the idea!

 via

 Un Jardin sur le Nil was the second of the Hermès Garden series, following the bitter green smelling one, Un Jardin en Mediterranee inspired by a plate of figs offered in a Moroccan garden.

  This unisex Hermès fragrance, Un Jardin sur le Nil (a garden on the Nile) smells more like claw-wound grapefruit than the green mango inspiration behind it. This idea of grapefruit has been on the mind of Jean Claude Ellena ever since In Love Again for Yves Saint Laurent. He has been toying and toiling with it in Rose Ikebana, for the Hermessences boutique exclusives and in Cologne Eau de Pamplemousse Rose. The idea of a lasting, fresh, juicy grapefruit which retains the tartness and subtle bitterness underneath the citrusy quality is a holy grail for him. Here it is triumphant and energizing, effervescent almost, a bullwhip for the flesh. 

via

But Un Jardin sur le Nil soon settles into a woody and starchy serenity that lends some welcome peace of mind (and courage) to a very hot day. Its incense aura lasts...and lasts...and lasts...as long as the journey to the sources of the Nile itself.

Beautiful in any season and very welcome in a hot spell. 

Viktoria Minya Hedonist Cassis: fragrance review

The fallen berries that get smashed and mushed underfoot reflect something of the realization of so much waste around us that even useful, succulent things fall to their unintentional demise through a drive that obeys cosmic rules; gravity, fall, squish. Hedonist Cassis by young but talented perfumer Viktoria Minya is certainly not wasteful, bring the tang of blackcurrant and grapefruit into the core chord of Hedonist, her original creation, making for an intense experience that recalls gathering berries in the countryside waiting for mr.Fox.

hello mr.fox on flickr, via Pinterest

Viktoria Minya has indulged her original composition with a cluster of variations, each highlighting a separate ingredient, Iris, Rose, and Cassis. The latest, Hedonist Cassis, possibly comes in the most attractive bottle, purple-ish with a touch of the late Prince, if you will.

Berry fragrances probably owe their heritage to the cult best-seller by L'Artisan Parfumeur, the original "berry" which spawned a hundred offspring over the decades since its inception.
The composition here however reminds me much more of the appeal of Yves Saint Laurent In Love Again (a combo of grapefruit and blackcurrant) by perfumer Jean Claude Ellena and doesn't fail to make me smile. The rose note is reminiscent of the chord in L'Ombre dans l'Eau by Diptyque; if like me you tend to shy away from overly prim, Jane Austen roses, and appreciate instead the tang that blackcurrants give to the above mentioned Diptyque fragrance, then Hedonist Cassis is sure to hit you with the epiphany of "oh, there's rose in it". Yes, but oh so delicious.

I am reminded of inconsequential things that have to do with late summer: the droning sound of the bees, the lazy contours of the calamus in the distance, the gentle softening of the sky as dusk sets in lilac hues; refreshing juice full of sour and sweet citruses served on the balcony and the canopy shading the rays while we're reading L'Education Sentimentale, the heroes leaping off the page in their game of social graces, platonic loves and carnal disgraces; freckles slowly forming on a long hellenic nose and lashes prettily faning on a smooth cheek, the comfortable silence of well trodden territory.

Extraordinary lasting power in Heodnist Cassis is an added bonus. For those of you who love a tart synthesis with great balance between sweet and sour and a stonking beat of lasting musky-wood this is your fruity floral pick for summer wear.

Fragrance Notes for Viktoria Minya Hedonist Cassis:
Top notes are black currant, grapefruit and rhubarb;
middle notes are bulgarian rose, grass and cassis;
base notes are cedar and musk.

Prescriptives Calyx: fragrance review & history

Part of PerfumeShrine's regular Underrated Perfume Day feature, I'm inspired to talk of Calyx because it strikes me as the Prometheus of hardcore (if such a strong word can be used for the genre) fruity fragrances that have dominated the late 1990s, the 2000s and 2010s market so far (and in part a culprit for the emergence of fruitchouli). Coming out as far back as 1986, an uplifting tart tropical punch splashed all over a tan California blonde right out of the shower, it subsisted on the other edge of hope, pitted as it was against the likes of Coco by Chanel, Opium by YSL, Dior's original Poison or Giorgio Beverly Hills.

Still, the cosmetics brand that issued it, Prescriptives (since out of business, except for this fragrance which is still in production and now distributed via Clinique counters), part of the Lauder Group, had the necessary market cojones to sustain its sales for years. The pure, custom-tailored image of their cosmetics was a natural fit for the idea of a pure, celestially squeezed perfume which back then had none of the connotations of sugary hard candy stickiness and hair salon peach/apple waft we associate with fruity fragrances today. Its perfumer, Sophia Grojsman, is famous for her clean but potent accords, which make use of a very different idea of feminine allure than the standard "vintage" and European concept of animalic scents that enhance -rather than conceal- the odorata sexualis and hide cigarette smoke remnants off Old World garments. Calyx was the culmination of American Artemis versus European Aphrodite: the "lean, mean, clean machine" was coming on scene for good and Lauder (who oversaw Prescriptives) had already built a generous following thanks to their sparkling clean fragrances such as White Linen and Estee. Grojsman was put to record elaborating on the cachet of fruit as feminine nectar saying "some fruit accords, like the one in Calyx, have a very pure quality. It's a different kind of sexuality, more innocent than the animal notes…And men like innocence. To them it is sexy…Fruit also carries a connotation of sin. Where would Adam and Eve have been without that apple?"

This assertion is in a nutshell the axiom of feminine mental submission. In a way these fruity scents seem to me as if they're not so subtly introducing a regression on feminism. Woman becomes a pliable little girl again, fresh and unknowing in her virginal, not yet sexualized body, which awaits the all prescient male to do the plucking. It is important to note that contrary to similar concepts of youthful, nubile allure brandished in European brand fragrances of the time (such as Loulou by Cacharel) the girl in question is never presented to be aware of her own erotic capital as an authentic Lolita would be. Rather the innocence is poised as a halo around her, a scent message of total abandon of control. Where's the temptation of the knowledgeable apple, I question.

Calyx doesn't smell of apple either. It smells of a neon cascade of grapefruit (though like with Un Jardin sur le Nil with its illusion of green mango there is no essence of the illusory fruit in question in the formula), boosted by guava and papaya (which give an almost overripe scent bordering on garbage if you really notice it) and a cluster of more traditional, zestful fruit notes (namely the citrusy mandarin and bergamot for uplifting elegance and the lactonic peach and apricot for comfort & skin compatibility). The weird thing with Calyx is that the standard cool-steam-room of lily of the valley heart with its transparent florals from a distance is flanked by a little berry underpinning on the bottom and transparent woody notes that rely on bombastic synthetics. The feeling earned nevertheless is one of celestial, mental awareness rather than one of tropical languor on Bora Bora sand dunes all smeared in Coppertone lotion and for that unique reason it deserves a place in the lesser pantheon of perfumes worth giving a second chance to, feminism aside.

The full list of Notes for Prescriptives Calyx includes:
Top: mandarin, passionfruit, peach, mango, bergamot, grapefruit, papaya, guava, mint, cassia.
Heart: cyclamen, lily of the valley, jasmine, rose, neroli, marigold, melon.
Base: vetiver, oakmoss, sandalwood, musk, raspberry.

Hermes Jour d'Hermes: fragrance review & insights into fragrance creation

Things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other.
~Euclid

photo by AlberCAN (copyright 2012) for use on PerfumeShrine

By guest writer AlbertCAN

Simple elegance is often the hardest to grasp. The emphasis here, of course, lies in its sophistication: the fusion of ideas being so purposely concised and delicately tailored that the communication becomes deceptively simple. Ideas just float on their own merits, process gone and vanished. For years now, for instance, many have quipped that the great Anna Pavlova probably danced her famous “The Dying Swan” program as party entertainment, but judging by the technical brilliance, intricate grace and athletic poise displayed by prima ballerina Ulyana Lopatkina below I wouldn’t classify it as a simple dance: to even stand on pointe for nearly four minutes while delivering all the nuanced emotions? Not ever for the faint hearted.

I was pondering all these intricacies almost three weeks ago when I was introduced to Jour d'Hermès (2012), the latest feminine fragrance by master perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena, and when I was informed of the project scope I was very surprised by its seemingly effortless premise: a modern soft floral, radiance from dawn to dusk. No emphasis on particular notes. No PR blitz upon the initial launch. Boutique only until Spring 2013. All against the grain.

The name is also deceptively simple, another subtle risk. Jour d'Hermès (pronounced roughly as ‘joor dair-mess’), though perfectly fitting with the brand’s chosen theme for 2012—Gift Of Time, or Le temps devant soi—isn’t the most accessible name for non-francophones and does require a reasonable grasp of the language. The name does, on the other hand, complement the core theme* of Hermès perfectly: the land and the sky. Case in point? The two best-selling scarves: “Brides de Gala” (on the left) on saddlery and “Astrologie” (below right) on the zodiac constellations—of the land and the sky. Olfaction wise, since we already have the masculine Terre d'Hermès (2006) representing the earth, and since Ciel d'Hermès would have been too obvious, here we have Jour d'Hermès representing the other half of the universe—though I should point out that the above-mentioned names are slightly subversive, with la terre being a feminine word in place of a masculine fragrance and le jour being a masculine word in French. One might think little of the seemingly archaic French noun gender categorization, but I should point out that the name “Calèche” was originally chosen in part because it is a feminine word in French—la calèche. Still, I’m ahead of myself: more on that front later.

The fragrance is yet another intricacy in disguise: Jour d'Hermès opens with quite a tart grapefruit element (quelle surprise) followed immediately by a soft verdancy—all against a floral murmur. Long-time readers of Ellena’s olfactive works would also notice a fruity syntax to the mix, though purposely kept non-specific with a soft sensual mango bias as the fragrance wears on. (The master perfumer has mentioned his partiality to the scent of mango in his book “Journal d'un parfumeur”.) Then in comes the radiance and the scent deftly draws out a delicate array of flowers: sweet pea and gardenia most prominently, although I have also observed a quote of the translucence lifted from Vanille Galante (2009), the lilting orange blossom in Iris Ukiyoe (2010). Further, if one can excuse my impertinence: with the help of the IFRA-sanctioned ingredient label—and my humble training in perfumery—I can also deduce the following floral elements: lily of the valley, modern hybrid rose, tuberose, ylang ylang, jasmine—although these elements are utilized in such a quasi-deconstructed manner that Ellena the magician here only shows an whiff of the ideas. It’s a dawn-kissed, dewy garland—not a Floriade by any stretch of the imagination. The overall structure of the fragrance is kept clean and tailored; the diffusion pattern is built with a purpose; sillage modern, sensual and very long-lasting.

The contradiction of this maximizing minimalism is worth pondering here. This is a luminous floral built under and only under the aegis of our time: three decades ago this idea of floral barraging would have been a Maupassant Realism, as testified in “First” (1976) by Van Cleef & Apels, another Ellena creation; a mere decade ago J’Adore (1999) by Christian Dior with its coquettish charm fronted by the saccharine champaca and violet. Jour d'Hermès is unapologetically floral at heart but decidedly anti-FlowerBomb.

Which begs the question: how does Jean-Claude Ellena manage such sustained flurry of floralcy in flight without all the burdensome cliché of heft often associated with the genre? Without the help of gas chromatography (out of the respect of the master perfumer, really) I would offer a possible hypothesis after a careful examination of his interviews and writings.

I have already mentioned the use of sweet pea, which Ellena has devoted a spirited entry in his “Journal d'un parfumeur” (2011). My English translation of the passage in question offers a glimpse to his art.

                                                                                                       Cabris, Wednesday April 14, 2010
Sweet peas, when in bouquet, remind me of ruffled flamenco dresses. The flower has graceful petals and has the appearance of organdie. They do not have a determined smell, but a scent that hesitates between rose, orange blossom and Sweet William, with its touch of vanilla. I threw in seven components that seem necessary to sketch the smell. One, two, three attempts to balance the proportions, to which I added a carnation note to the fourth test to correct myself again. The fifth test seems appropriate. I have a sketch of smell with which I can start a perfume.

SWEET PEA (FIFTH DRAFT)
phenylethyl alcohol               200
Paradisone ®                      180
hydroxycitronellal                 50
Rhodinal                           30
acetyl isoeugenol                  15
orange blossom (abs colorless)     15
cis-3 hexenol                       5
phenylacetic aldehyde 50%           5
______________________________________
                                   500

Diluted at 5% in perfumery alcohol at 85°.

While it’s not certain whether Ellena adopted the exact sweet pea accord above for his latest feminine fragrance the olfactory essay is of interest. The accord is emblematic due to its hologramatic nature: the nuance of the gentle flora is evident, yet within there’s also a radiant magnolia (Paradisone), a splash of lily of the valley (hydroxycitronellal), a boutonnière of carnation (acetyl isoeugenol), a blade of fresh luminous verdancy (cis-3 hexenol) and a whiff of tartness (Rhodinal) for good measure—not to mention the orange blossom absolute and the frilly rosy touch from phenylethyl alcohol. As an avid gardener who has harvested his share of sweet peas I must say Ellena is shockingly spot-on with so few ingredients.

Within the same book Ellena’s thoughts on gardenia is even more sparse. Again my English translation:

Gardénia

aldehyde C-18 prunolide
styrallyl acetate
methyl anthranilate

For the scent of gardenia I prefer that of Chanel because it does not smell like the flower but happiness. The odour of gardenia is a drama between jasmine and tuberose.

Compared to the natural scent the gardenia accord above does not have the notorious mushroom lilt simply because of the absence of the tiglates. (The stryrallyl acetate, itself smelling like tart rhubarb, may have also given Jour d'Hermès the verdant tinge.) Yet what does the master perfumer meant when referring to “a drama between jasmine and tuberose”? Let’s break down the individual accords from the master perfumer:

Jasmine
benzyl acetate
Hedione
clove bud oil
indole
methyl anthranilate

Tuberose
aldehyde C-18 prunolide
methyl anthranilate
phenylethyl alcohol
benzyl salicylate

Thus elements from both are appearing in the gardenia accord, although our Elena Vosnaki has also made the following observation: "Methyl anthranilate (orange flower and ylang-ylang in low concentration, grape in high concentration) also produces very popular Schiff's Bases for a variety of floral effects, when added to aldehydes. No surprise in its being featured so much!"

Based on the info above I can deduce that Jour d'Hermès doesn't have the notes listed in part because the ‘notes’ are all connected together: sweet pea into magnolia, magnolia helping the orange blossom, orange blossom into tuberose, tuberose into gardenia. And certainly the Paradisone is known to create a radiant effect, as per both perfumer Arcadi Boix Camps and master perfumer Alberto Morillas. Under this manner Ellena, though clasping onto his aesthetics firmly, is to me also taking a page out of the notebook from old master perfumers of the 20th century such as Francis Fabron, despite obviously going after vastly different olfactory effects: very short but self-contained formulas with each 'note' sharing a set of chemicals so the elements are tightly woven as possible.

After all, what’s the point of naming all the notes in Jour d'Hermès when all the ingredients are synced to perform as one, in calibrated harmony?

I have mentioned that Jour d'Hermès is quite long-lasting, and much to my intrigue it works very well as a unisex fragrance. The use of the pricey muscone, itself a creamy modern musk, does help coaxing flowers to a more prolonged bloom...

(Hidden in the drydown I do very much suspect the use of honey absolute in conjunction with the musk, since the diffusion is such positively radiant. Oakmoss extract is also used, not at the forefront of the story by any stretch of the imagination but enough for me to see maybe classified by others as a modern chypre floral.)

...To test my hypothesis I ended up wearing Jour d'Hermès for two days straight, and on my skin it’s becomes a soft unisex fragrance. And given that Terre d'Hermès can work on the right woman perhaps the gender confusion among the two French nouns (le jour, la terre) isn’t so random after all: Ellena does believe the freedom in fragrance categorization among genders—perhaps the names are a reflection of that belief as well, that fragrance shouldn’t be gender assigned but completely up to the taste of the individual. And given the marketing scope of the latest offering I have good reasons to believe that the ray of light is being granted in the name of personal freedom, freedom in the name of simple elegance.

Hermès Jour d’Hermès is available in 50 and 85 ml Eau de Parfum, and in a 125 ml refill. It’s available now exclusively in Hermès boutiques and will go into wider distribution early next year.

*Editor (Elena's) Note: Jour d’Hermès was presented to the world in late November 2012 in Delphi, Greece (as seen here), the default spot of LIGHT worship. The god of the oracle, Apollo, has  no doubt shed a ray of sunshine on the perfumer and his works. It remains to be seen whether -to borrow a Nietzsche reference- the next fragrance, tackling the Dionysian this time, will be Nuit d’Hermès and presented in Arcadia. I'm throwing this to the mix as an idea to the Hellenophile people at  Hermès!

Photo, from top: Jour d'Hermès and “Journal d'un parfumeur”, photo taken/copyright by AlbertCAN; Uliana Lopatkina in “The Dying Swan”, photo via Tumblr; “Brides de Gala” scarf by Hermès; “Astrologie” scarf by Hermès; cover of “Journal d'un parfumeur” by Jean-Claude Ellena; Jour d'Hermès illustration via Hermes.com

Guerlain Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau: fragrance review

Guerlain gives us a vacant eye zombie. Like Natalia Vodianova's baby blues look empty and not quite there in sepia pictures, lacking the density , the pathos, the slicing through paper that darker eyes carry, yet those vacant blues carry their own strange allure, Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau is a very pretty thing posing in a company that it probably shouldn't be among. Taken individually, it is a soft, enveloping, delicate scent of fairies. Taken as a member in the Shalimar company, it's too baby-ish to be taken seriously.

The commercially successful experiment of Shalimar Parfum Initial (2011), an introductory Shalimar for those consumers who knew the brand through their cosmetics &  skincare or for the young clientele that always associated the classic Shalimar with older generations and longed for a version to claim their own (see also Shalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar Light and Eau de Shalimar for previous efforts into this arena), gave us hope. For 2012 Guerlain, as we had early on announced, was bent on launching a flanker to the modernised Shalimar Parfum Initial version (a flanker to a flanker, if you like) this spring, called Shalimar Initial L'Eau.  Now,  this is exactly why I usually tend to dislike the concept of flankers: it's so easy to lose track or confuse things, ending up discussing a completely different thing than your fellow partner in the discussion.

Shalimar Initial L'Eau is both a lighter and drier new formula on the previous experiment, not just a different concentration or a new bottle edition (Shalimar in general knows more limited editions than it can possibly count). The bottle is the exact same style as Shalimar Parfum Initial, only in a lighter hue with a baby pink ribbon on the neck (instead of a greyish blue one) bearing the familiar G medaillon. The similarity leads me to believe that they do intend to keep this version in the line as just a different concentration of the Parfum Initial, not only a one-time-thing limited edition. Especially if it proves a good seller.


Perfumer Thierry Wasser was put on record saying he chose a specific grade of bergamot from a Guerlain communelle (i.e. a special reserve that Guerlain keeps for each of their famous ingredients) which is a tad greener and zestier than usual. What is most distinguishable however, smelling the finished fragrance, is a premium grade neroli which gives a subtle, refreshing tonality, lightening the formula considerably and further making it fluffy and airy. If Shalimar Parfum Initial is a watercolour, this is a rinse. 
Despite the mentioned notes of "greenery" in the official press release, such as lily of the valley, freesia and hyacinth, the vividness of the bright citrus notes with a lightly sweet aspect is what stays with you.
The new spin doesn't really boost the green freshness (like that in Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau) but focuses on the neroli essence and a tart grapefruit top note to counterpoint the traditional carnality of the original base of Shalimar (built on opoponax resin, all powdery splendour, Peru balsam and benzoin with their rich, treackly aspect and quinolines with their leathery, sharp, disturbing bite).
Instead the leathery note in Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau has been further toned down than it was in the Initial (annihilated you could argue) substituted by an admittedly delicious crème brûlée note. Overall we're witnesses to the deliberate culling of the balsamic aspect that makes Shalimar so famous and recognisable.  This leaves us with a spectre; a fascinating apparition amidst the shadows, blink and you'll miss its ethereal form, but is it related to Shalimar of old? No, it's not.


What I find most surprising for a Shalimar version is the relative lack of tenacity and sufficient projection: three generous spritzes on my arm (catching my trench-coat sleeve too)  have lasted just 4 hours and no one but myself was aware of the fact that I was wearing perfume. For an eau de toilette concentration it's not totally unusual, but for Guerlain and for a flanker in that iconic oriental stable it is most peculiar. 


Notes for Guerlain Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau:
Top: bergamot, grapefruit, neroli
Heart: iris absolute, jasmine grandiflora, rose absolute
Base: tonka bean, vanilla. 


Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau is presented in Eau de Toilette concentration in 40ml (for 37GBP), 60ml (46GBP) and 100ml (64GBP) bottles. 

Flankers/derivative versions of Shalimar by Guerlain (with linked reviews & comparison with original):

Shalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar Light

Eau de Shalimar

Shalimar Ode a la Vanille

Shalimar Parfum Initial

Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau

Limited editions of Shalimar (without change in the perfume formula itself):

Eau de Shalimar Flower

Shalimar Charms edition & Eau de Shalimar Charms edition

Shalimar Fourreau du Soir

Shalimar extrait de parfum in Bacarrat quadrilobe flacon 2011 edition

Les Colognes Hermes ~Eau de Gentiane Blanche, Eau de Pamplemousse Rose: fragrance reviews

One day I might stop raving about the vision and artistry of Jean Claude Ellena, but not today. His new creations for the house of Hermès depart from the classical Eau de Cologne structure into drier and more mineral arpeggios, the melodies of his two new compositions humming on my skin like Pan-pipes made of an outer-space-born hybrid.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche and Eau de Pamplemousse Rose join longstanding bestseller Eau d’Orange Verte (composed by Françoise Caron, its 30th anniversary this spring) for the new collection of unisex Eaux de cologne from Hermès, expected to be joined by more in the coming seasons. In a long discussion with Jean Claude he confided his and the House's desire to focus on a renovation of the Cologne genre which "needs a lot of love", as both a hark back to traditional perfumery and a modern choice of indulgent refreshment in the classic Mediterranean style.
The new compositions are both wonderfully pleasurable, but it's one of them which has literally swept me off my feet and regular readers of Perfume Shrine will not be hard-pressed to tell which one!

Eau de Pamplemousse Rose (translated as 'grapefuit & rose' and not 'pink grapefruit', as insistited upon by Ellena himself in his interview to us) is the more neoclassical of the two, denoting a citrusy facet at the beginning which echoes his other grapefuit compositions; namely In Love Again for Yves Saint Laurent and Rose Ikebana for Hermessences. However the new formula is different than the previous tries: If I were to imagine this as a ladder to absraction, I'd say that from the hologram of bitter-sweet grapefruit of the former and the delicate jewelled sparkle of the latter, the new composition is seen through the beam of a laser-jet printer which merges pixels in high resolution on a high-weight paper that seems powdered out of the package.
Compared with the other emblematic grapefuit, that of Guerlain's Pamplelune, one is stunned by the different approach of the two styles: Pamplelune is executed in a magnificently proficient style that manages to orientalise the sulphurous note in the arms of patchouli which warms and fans out the naturally sweet-smelling tonalities of the fruit. In Eau de Pamplemousse Rose the foot is firmly set on the West and the approach is leaner, tangier and less love-or-hate. A molecule patented by the house of Firmenich, called Rhubofix, possessing fresh "green rhubarb", woody-spicy, and floral facets combines with the rose scent, merging in a slightly ~and very pleasantly~ bitter composition which transcends the cologne genre. It would be a disillusionment to approach this if you're in search for rose, however, as it is only a mere whisper and neither is vetiver immediately apparent. Already being the proud owner of both In Love Again and Rose Ikebana, as well as Kelly Calèche which sports a little wink of this element too, as part of my fragrance collection, I am not certain whether I will sprint to get a bottle of the latest; but it's really well done and worth investing for the summer months if you have a dent in the fresh compartment in your fragrance wardrobe.

Eau de Pamplemousse Rose includes the following notes: lemon, grapefruit, rose, Rhubofix, vetiver.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche, on the other hand, is an adorable bone-dry masterpiece of novelty which eschews the traditional structure of Eau de Cologne much like Ellena's Vanille Galante took over the vanilla bandwagon; and thus I am earnestly putting a big bottle of it on my wishlist. Currently Eaux seem to be everywhere from Dior's Escale de Pondichéry, Miss Dior Cherie L'Eau and J'adore L'Eau Cologne Florale (review coming up) to Cristalle Eau Verte (ditto) and the instigator of it all Eau de Cologne by Chanel. Still Hermès and Ellena, much like Sinatra (or Sid Vicious, take your pick) "did it their (own) way" and the magnificently androgynous and distinct result is highly wearable as well.

Contrary to Robin of NST I do not peg Eau de Gentiane Blanche as a too clean scent, although it's undoubtedly fresh; perhaps an allusion to Alpine snowscapes where gentian grows abundantly. Yet, smell this take on freshness and you know you've been under azure skies in the early hours of morning in Göreme in the Cappadocia region of Turkey, all mineral landscape around, no plants, no water, nothing but dry white dust and rock as far as the eye can see. The huge rock houses of Cappadocia, underground as well as upperground, present the apotheosis of past meets future: one cannot distinguish whether they're in one of the prehistoric shots of "2001 A Space Odyssey" or in one of the first episode of "Star Wars". The cool feeling imparted by Eau de Gentiane Blanche reminded me of that experience along with the caves at the famous nude beach of Matala on the island of Crete: cool solace from the scorching sun.

Upon testing Eau de Gentiane Blanche on my skin, I was struck by one sledgehammering impression: This is how I wanted Chanel Les Exclusifs No.18 to smell like on me!! The touch of ambrette seed in the Chanel is here magnified, the sophisticated bitter character bringing it full circle along with the vegetal, earthy-powdery halo or iris instead of the rose of No.18 and I seem to detect some of his signature Iso-E Super.
Jean Claude Ellena also extolled the innovation of using gentian absolute, here featured for the first time in a fragrance. This, apart from the stylistical difference, might explain the striking difference with Guerlain's Aqua Allegoria Gentiana, another fragrance pegged on the gentian plant. In the latter nevertheless the pear aroma-chemical along with the sweeter nuances of lime, limette and vanilla conspire to give a fresh, yet slightly sweet composition (not quite in the patiserrie Guerlain later style, thankfully) whereas in Eau de Gentiane Blanche the dryness is the undoubted seal of sophistication.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche includes notes of white musk, gentian, iris and incense.

Both compositions had an average tenacity on my skin, longer on the blotter (and I would surmiss on clothes) but they perform better on skin and thus the latter method is highly recommended when testing. Remarkable they do not dry down diametrically opposite, which lends a uniformity of style in the line. Philippe Mouquet's design of the trio of flacons for the Colognes Hermes vibrates in three nuances of green: vivid bottle-green, grey-green and dark forest green. The Hermes colognes are available as splash at major department stores and Hermes boutiques in 100ml (3.4oz)/$125 and 200ml (6.8oz)/$165 while Eau d'Orange Verte specifically is also available in the Tesla-size of 400ml (13.6oz)!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Interview with Jean Claude Ellena, Hermès fragrances, Eau de Cologne history & scents
Pics of fashion shoot at Goreme, Turkey via Corbis

Gravity Cannot Be Blamed ~In Love Again by Saint Laurent: fragrance review

"Gravity cannot be blamed for people falling in love" is one of Albert Einstein's wittier quotes. Although falling in love never held any sinister accusations against forces of nature in my mind, in a way I find myself equally irrationaly questioning my own reasons for choosing certain smells sometimes; such as a fruity fragrance I reach for in the summer months. What possesed me into buying one and actually enjoying it in the heat, me a self professed fruit-shunner?

In Love Again launched in 1998 as a Limited Edition, composed by Jean Claude Ellena. Yves Saint Laurent intended it as his last fragrance before retiring to celebrate his 40 years in the fashion business and thus it was a limited edition, accompanied by a seasonal makeup range, which was planned to be sold only in 1998. The bottle seen from above, as in a floor plan, was shaped into an irregular heart. The fragrance indeed disappeared after that, despite a devoted following gravitating towards its fresh, yet mischievous scent. Perhaps in an attempt to follow this successful turn, parfums Yves Saint Laurent issued Baby Doll in 1999 composed by Cecile Matton, initially as a Paris fragrance flanker, yet bearing a passing resemblance to In Love Again scent-wise, with its grapefruit opening and sweetly fruity denouement.

Yet fans were not entirely satisfied: Baby Doll just wasn't the same, being much girlier, sweeter and lacking the quintessential sophistication of the Yves Saint Laurent brand. Of course in many ways In Love Again was arguably also a departure from the dry chypre Y, the hedonism of Opium or the metallic aldehydic frost of Rive Gauche and the corresponding image of Yves as the ne plus ultra of French chic. You could picture those latest scents on bazooka-gum-chewing youngsters, carrying Manga-embossed bags.
Bottles of In Love Again went for as high as $500 on online auctions, till the company decided to bring it back. And so they did: They re-launched in a bottle with a hammered gold cap, instead of the harlequin one, and another box in green and blue in 2004, but the fragrance remained the same.

The initial burst of grapefruit rind, like you have just squeezed some with your bare hands dribbling juice all over, is a shot of energy ~a welcome good-morning kiss to kick off the day! In a way I can see how Jean Claude Ellena performed an anadiplosis in his Rose Ikebana for the Hermèssences, the exclusive line for the Hermès boutique as in-house perfumer in 2004: it was too good to pass up. In Rose Ikebana the idea is further explored with a garland of delicate, pulsating rose and tannin tea notes which combine to give a more ethereal and less sweet version like a satin hair ribbon drenched in morning dew. He deducted even more of the sweet elements of this accord in Un jardin sur le Nil, again for Hermès, in which he worked on a green mango note that ends up smelling like a refreshingly bitter grapefruit fresh from the fridge rested atop a smoky wooden counter top.

Somehow the success of In Love Again is that it manages to bypass the Scylla of hyper sweet, with a tart, zesty grapefruit accord that coaxes the sulfurous nature of the fruit into submission, making it easier to wear than the more difficult Pamplelune by Guerlain which often produces a strong ammoniac, catty effect on certain skins. A touch of green leaves, organic and warmed in the sun also contributes to its modern character, as well as what I perceive as tart berries.
But it also has a soft ambiance about it, without resorting to the Charybdis of ease that is the powder smell of certain white musks, nor stooping to cheap air-freshener style. Although a modern fragrance wih hints of the fruit-bowl, In Love Again has something about it which makes me enjoy it in the warmer months.

The comparison to Baby Doll is understandable up to a degree, due to the homoioteleuton freshness and grapefruit tang present in both. There is an element of optimistic dynamism about both, as well as youthfulness, but Baby Doll lacks the musky-woody element that keeps In Love Again from becoming too juvenile and therefore soon tires me with its overladen message of overt sweetness.

Contrary to many people I find In Love Again has good staying power, especially for a fragrance centered on a citrus note: those being almost synonymous to fleeting. The hesperidic burst of course dissipates after a couple of hours (a feat, even so!), but the drydown is detectable after half the day has passed with an inviting human warmth about it. The downside is of course that due to musk anosmia, some people are bound not to be able to detect the remnants at all. But for that only a skin patch test would bear the deciding verdict.

Notes:
Top: grapes, grapefruit, brimbelle/bilberry
Heart: tulip tree flower, grapefruit, water lily.
Base: blackberry, sandalwood, musk.

The collectible bottle is to be found on Ebay. The current version can be found easily online and in department stores. There are two limited editions, which came out in 2005 and 2006 respectively, with offbeat designs on the bottles and no serious pretensions: In Love Again Fleur de la Passion (with an addition of passion fruit, raspberry and peony; subtle and rather less musky) and In Love Again Jasmin Etoile (with a weak, pale jasmine, which doesn't make it very distinctive, plus tangerine and a touch of spicy star anise).

Pic of original ad (with collectible packaging from 1998) via parfumdepub. Pic of current bottle via MUA.

Fragrant news: Marc Jacobs community online for his new scent Daisy- win gifts!

Perfume Shrine brings you the chance to make the acquaintance of a new scent and win gifts, promo material and generally be at the cutting edge.
Marc Jacobs is launching his new fragrance, Daisy, next month. To accompany the launch of the new scent, there is a fabulous, exclusive online community on Daisy Marc Jacobs. At this point the site is invitation only, allowing perfume, beauty, and fashion fans to be the first to experience the new site and to be at the forefront of the network.
The new scent is touted to be

"a sparkling floral scent - fresh and feminine, with a touch of whimsy. A modern vintage that embodies effortless charm."

It is featuring top notes of wild strawberry, violet leaves and ruby red grapefruit, while it has a heart of gardenia, violet and jasmine petals on a base of vanilla and musk. (Sounds pretty!)
Daisy will come in an eau de toilette concentration at 1.7oz/50ml at 55$ and 3.4oz/100ml at 70$, as well as a shower gel (30$), a body lotion (32$) and a rich body butter (35$).

And now the good news! If you contact chloe.bee@mac.com mentioning you came through Perfume Shrine, you can be one of the lucky ones to receive a personal code that upon logging on to Daisy Marc Jacobs site will take you to the fabulous new community where you can win a Marc Jacobs handbag, promotional material and play around getting to know the new scent.
So don't miss your chance.


Pic comes from Bloomingdales.