The Smell of War: The Senses on Alert (part 2)

It was Shakespeare who wrote, ""Cry havoc!, and let loose the dogs of war, that this foul deed shall smell above the earth with carrion men, groaning for burial."
In part 1 of my article on The Smell of War (HERE) I extrapolated the scents that plagued the combat fields of WWI and the fragrances which were created in that fateful era as solace and as memory.

Since chemical weaponry had been so notoriously used during WWI to great impact, as we have elaborated before, by the time WWII soldiers were fully engaged there were posters warning them about the smells they should avoid to protect themselves from terrible pulmonary harm and skin burning, an olfactory compass that directed them away from musty hay or green corn (for phosgene), geraniums (for lewisite), flypaper smell (for chlorpicrine), and garlic-horseradish-mustard (rather predictably for mustard gas).

Amidst the newer weapons of smelly compounds for WWII, one catches our attention by its intricate psychological concept behind it. Who Me? was a top secret sulfurous stench weapon developed by the American Office of Strategic Services in the 1940s to be used by the French Resistance against German officers. This stinky bomb smelled strongly of fecal matter, and was issued in pocket atomizers, sort of like modern pepper spray, intended to be unobtrusively sprayed on a German officer, humiliating him and, by extension, demoralizing the occupying German forces. Needless to say that the fact that the fecal smelling compounds were largely based on sulfur, a light molecule that easily leaked into the clothes and skin of the assailant, a fact which confirmed the swift failure of such putrid, but essentially harmless, weaponry as Who Me?.

Perfumery rose to the challenge of bypassing the foul and the fragrant, of vicious and frightening smells, to bring a respite after the war that would celebrate the return to normalcy. Boys raised on farms, coming to pee themselves out of terror for garlic or geraniums that would signal risk of death, would come home to find themselves greeted by fragrances that needed to soothe, but also to heal, which is not quite the same thing. Feeding the longing for serenity was a mission. Naming the new fragrances gave half the game away sometimes.

Air Nouveau by Houbigant was ushering the new era, full of optimism and willing to put to rest the angst that plagued Europe and the world for more than a decade with repercussions lasting beyond that time frame.

This is a small part of a longer article which I published on Fragrantica. You can read it in its entirety here.

Battling the Bodily Stench or Embracing the Feral and the Ripe?

Battling bad smells has been a millenia-long battle for humanity. Fighting body odor specifically has been a battle against our very own human make-up. With the exception of those carrying the gene ABCC11 (which makes for no armpit smell), common amongst the populations of the Far East,  the vast majority of us of European, African, Central Asian and Native American descent have the sort of apocrine glands in the armpit and groin which secrete a sort of sweaty liquid that when mixed with surface bacteria develops body odor. The ecrine glands, situated throughout the body, secrete just water and salt.

The quest for deodorisation brings us to the American contradiction of a malodorous past coupled with an almost sterilized present. The pioneer settlers, coming from Europe driven out for their strict Puritan religious beliefs or our sheer need for greener pastures and personal growth were not accustomed to washing up too much. Popular westerns, films chronicling the adventures of the Wild West, have long exploited this very notion, having the lone cowboy bust into the odd saloon and demand a cigar and bath in the back quarters after months of herding cattle all alone in the wilderness.

The very interesting thing however is not the invention of deodorant (and anti-perspirant, which debuted in the early 20th century based on aluminum chloride first marketed under the suggestive name Everdry) but the power of marketing. Women, American women in particular, were especially targeted in typically sexist campaigns which implied that their natural odor was repulsive to heterosexual men, therefore they had to rely on a deodorant or anti-perspirant in order to land the man of their dreams. An advertisement from the Walter Thomson Archives, at the Duke University, proclaims in the very title "Within the Curve of a Woman's Arm. A frank discussion of a subject too often avoided." Including lines asking "Would you be absolutely sure of your daintiness?" and "Does excessive perspiration ruin your prettiest dresses?" The agressive campaigns by the Odorono Company, giving their address as Ruth Miller, The Odorono Co., 719 Blair Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio, promised the "so simple, so easy, so sure" solution for that "problem", imaginary or real.

Please read the entirety of my article on Fragrantica.

The Smell of War: Beyond No Mand's Land

Writing about chemical warfare and its smells doesn't come easy. The prompt was a quote I came across in a letter to Siegfried Sassoon, just a month before his death in November 1918, written by Wilfred Owen: ‘My senses are charred.” The European terrains of World War I (1914-1918) were the fields where the olfactory terror of warfare consolidated itself on a large scale. It was unquestionably during World War I that modern chemical warfare began.

The significance of the toxic gasses' odor is not highlighted enough. The psychological effect of smell on the brain is documented and it often was the anticipation of suffering produced by the alerting odor of toxic fumes which wreaked havoc with the soldiers' psyche.

"Lieutenant Colonel S.L. Cummins, consultant pathologist with the British army in France, concluded that all divisions that were continuously exposed to chemical attack showed a significant drop in morale. The medical officer Charles Wilson was even more emphatic in ensuring that most of the men that had been gassed were frankly left in shock. By 1915, after studying its effects, the English had concluded that although they had not been designed to sow terror, the violent sensation of suffocation caused by chlorine and phosgene undermined the will of even the most determined soldiers. In fact, the mere rumor of a chemical attack even had an effect on troops that had not been previously gassed." [source]

Having being composed two years before the break of WWI, Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue is probably the most iconic perfume of the -by 1914- lost forever Belle Epoque era. The Great War saw the end of that all right.

Please read the rest of my article on Fragrantica. It revolves around the smells of warfare and associations the mind creates in times of terror with references to WWI and the Russian Revolution.

A Brief History of Deodorization

Battling bad smells has been a millenia-long battle for humanity. Fighting body odor specifically has been a battle against our very own human make-up. With the exception of those carrying the gene ABCC11 (which makes for no armpit smell), common amongst the populations of the Far East,  the vast majority of us of European, African, Central Asian and Native American descent have the sort of apocrine glands in the armpit and groin which secrete a sort of sweaty liquid that when mixed with surface bacteria develops body odor.[...]

The very interesting thing is not the invention of deodorant (and anti-perspirant, which debuted in the early 20th century based on aluminum chloride first marketed under the suggestive name Everdry) but the power of marketing. Women, American women in particular, were especially targeted in typically sexist campaigns which implied that their natural odor was repulsive to heterosexual men, therefore they had to rely on a deodorant or anti-perspirant in order to land the man of their dreams.

An advertisement from the Walter Thomson Archives, at the Duke University, proclaims in the very title "Within the Curve of a Woman's Arm. A frank discussion of a subject too often avoided." Including lines asking "Would you be absolutely sure of your daintiness?" and "Does excessive perspiration ruin your prettiest dresses?"

The agressive campaigns by the Odorono Company, giving their address as Ruth Miller, The Odorono Co., 719 Blair Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio, promised the "so simple, so easy, so sure" solution for that "problem", imaginary or real.

You can find the entire article on Fragrantica on this link.

Scent of Mummy, the Egyptian kind, that is...

In one of my newest historical articles for Fragrantica, amassed under the collective title of 1001 Past Tales, I discuss the infamous "scent of mummy", or "mumia", coming off the Egyptian mummies which were actually used in the preparation of apothecary formulae for external use as well as -most poignantly- internal consumption.

wiki commons

Perish the thought that people actually consumed mumia internally, but this is what they did from at least 1000AD onwards: vital energy at its most macabre. Egyptology might not have been born, yet people knew these corpses were old. The ground matter of the corpses, black, firm and putrid smelling, defies modern logic, as do most arcane and animistic practices that come from the prehistoric world. Eating a worthy opponent or an ancestor is an ancient practice in order to graft their excellence unto the eater.

You can read the entire article on this link.

The Medieval Cyprus Birdies (Oiselets de Chypre): Tracking Historical Scents & Fragrance Use

via

"Since she had exchanged one of the most luxurious Courts of the Middle Ages for that of Aragon, chiefly concerned with the ceaseless tumult and turmoil of war. In the fortress-palaces of her husband's kingdom how often she must have pined for the garden-isle of her birth, for its groves of orange, pomegranate, citron, mulberry, acacia, olive, and palm, for the vision of the happy valley of Makaria, across whose far-famed loveliness she was to gaze no more from the casements of her brother's palace at Nicosia! How she would pine to hear once more the merry laughter and the jingling bells of the huntingtrain " sport made ideal in that land of " the richest and most generous lords in Christendom " of their day, one of whom, the Count of Jaffa, alone, kept no less than five hundred hunting dogs. Memories of scented waters " rose, jasmine, and many another of which the secret has long been lost to the distiller " would be wafted to her with the lifting of every lid of her cypress-wood coffers, with their metal inlaying, with every breath of her perfumed " oiselets de Chypre " " that favourite toy of the mediaeval boudoir which she was probably the first to introduce into Aragon. These pomanders of scented paste, generally moulded into the shape of a bird " hence their name " were hung in the apartments of great ladies, in cages or similar receptacles, to serve the double purpose of purifying as well as of perfuming the room. A heavy and disappointed heart beat, we may be sure, beneath the royal robes, thick with " ors de Chypre, o Ma o Aragon ; heavy, because of its homesickness, disappointed, because of her childlessness. Her sumptuous wardrobe itself would grow to be a weariness, since she might not wear it in that Cypriote setting which alone might have fitly framed it."  

[source, Miron E.L The Queens of Aragon: Their Lives and Times. Reprint. London: Forgotten Books, 2013. 152-3. Print.]

I wrote a concrete piece on Oiselets de Chypre, the Cyprus scented birdies of the Middle Ages on Fragrantica. Please check it out on this link.

Whiffs of Heaven and of Hell: The Scents of Sanctity and of the Devil, a Historical Exposition of Myth and Reality

I have been having a bit of trouble with putting in comments lately, Blogger acting up or something, so please excuse my delay in responding to you. I hope the problem gets fixed quickly.
Meanwhile I have published two of my most interesting, if I say so myself, articles involving a controversial topic that intermingles religion, culture, history, myth and ever present smells and fragrances. Not everything is coming up roses, but some things apparently are?

One if called A Saintly Aroma: Scents of Heaven, linked here, and its companion is called A Diabolical Whiff: Scents of Hell, linked on this link.

I hope that you will enjoy them as much as I enjoyed myself while researching and writing them. As always, please free to comment and agree/disagree either here or there.

Ancient Fragrant Lore (part 2)

"It is during The Eleusinian Mysteries [ceremonies of Athenian origin which celebrated the fertility and grain goddess Demeter and Kore (i.e. Persephone, of the myth of the pomegranate)]  that aromatics are used the most. The 9th and 10th day of the celebrations the hierophant makes a speech in which he explains to the initiated the joys which await them. In the Elysian Fields there is a golden city, with emerald fortifications and roads paved in ivory, where the gates are made of cinnamon. Around its walls the River of Perfume flows, a 100 cubits wide and deep enough that one could swim in it. The baths are crystal edifices held up by pillars of fragrant wood and in the bathtubs a warm and pleasantly odoriferous dew is ever flowing. Three hundred and sixty sources of pure water are located in this magnificent city, as many of honey and five hundred fountains of fine fragrance. The banqueting hall is a grove of trees bearing the most suave flowers and their fruits are cups which are automatically filled with wine when cut and put onto the table. Charming nightingales fill the air with their song and pick up fragrant blossoms which they drop onto the guests like scented snow. A thick vapor rises from the Perfumes River and floats within the banquet hall imparting a refined and suave fragrant dew."

the fresco of the "saffron gatherer" from the Minoan settlement of Akrotiri (on the island of Santorini)

Part of my longer article on Fragrantica, on this link (following part 1) into the history of aromatics and the preparation of fragrances in the Eastern Mediterranean region during antiquity (emphasizing the Minoan and Mycenean eras). Enjoy!

Down in the Bowels of London

One of my favourite readers, Minette of Scent Signals, sent me the following link which guides us down to the London...sewers! The Guardian video follows Rob Smith, head flusher at Thames Water, who explains how 'fat bergs' (amalgamations of illegally dumped cooking oil and wet wipes) are the culprits for frequent blockage and even flooding. But some more pleasant emanations are still possible, as he attests!

Not a pleasant subject on the whole you might say, even though those sewers have inspired writers Robotham, Gaiman and Updale (Lost, Neverwhere and Montmorency series respectively) as well as video games, with their dark and sinister atmosphere. But the interesting thing is that the London sewer system goes back to the Victorian Age. In the 1850s over 400000 tonnes of sewage were flushed into the River Thames each day, thus rendering the river biologically dead. The ...stinky culmination came in the summer of 1858, during which the smell of untreated human waste was extraordinarily potent in central London, forever giving the time frame the nickname "the Great Stink" and reinforcing the theory of "miasmatic air" as a cause for cholera to last well until at least the 1880s, when Koch re-discovered the bacterium responsible for the disease. (The predominance of the theory of the air carrying miasmata through odours is well documented in Alain Corbin's book The Fragrant and the Foul). Soon Joseph Bazalgette was commissioned chief engineer to oversee the construction of the new London sewage system in 1859.

The London sewers are stratographed in regions of class demarcations, nevertheless; certainly a distinction obvious in British society in general in the past, less so now, except for the respective...effluvium, so to speak. The fearless in the eye of dirt Rob Smith describes the emanations that bypass methane for a more pleasant odour as those coming from the "affluent effluent" ~the stuck remnants of perfumed body oils and bath washes which are used by the richer folks; certain areas smell of expensive oils that carry their aromatic heritage down the drain...
The London sewage system holds a special fascination apparently, a mix of the Gothic tradition with the metamodern V for Vendetta flair for underground scheming: With such names of "hot spots" as Devil's Gate, Itself, Labyrinth, and Rubix, is it any wonder perfume managed to sneak in there too?


Next post will be a review & lucky draw for a new niche perfume. Stay tuned!

sketch of Faraday and Father Thames via wikimedia commons

Joan of Arc & Egyptian Mummies: Tied by Scent

Some of the most fascinating scopes of the smell-study do not revolve around commercial fragrances at all. One area which provides us with phenomenal and astounding observations on the role of smell is history & archeology; especially when it has to do with legendary figures.
Dr Philippe Charlier, a paleopathologist (that is, a medical expert on the ailments of prehistoric times) and medicine historian at Lille II and Paris VII universities as well as a forensic scientist at the Raymond Poincaré Hospital in Paris, has come up with an astonishing revelation: That the last remains of Jeanne D'Arc or Joan of Arc, preserved by the church as holy relics, were a hoax: in fact the lot consisted of the remnants of an Egyptian mummy!

The discovery dates to April 2007 actually, but the more impressive point is the way in which he came up to this conclusion: through smell. The scent of the remains and the essences used to embalm the dead in ancient times gave priceless clues.

A group of 20 researchers examined the reputed Joan of Arc remains at Tours (Indre-et-Loire) for months: There was a piece of a human rib ~ blackened on the surface as if charred, minor bone remnants, wood & solid matter and some linen tissue measuring 15cm. The lot surfaced in 1867 in a jar in the attic of a Paris pharmacy. They were labelled "Remains found under the stake of Joan of Arc, virgin of Orleans" and were later officially recognized by the Vatican as being authentic. What put the team of researchers into the right track nevertheless were some smart observations.

First, the remains did not appear burnt but rather embalmed. Microscopic examination revealed several pine pollen stigmata (of a type not inherent in Normandy) which are a common occurence in the resin used for embalming in Egypt. The linen tissue was chronologised via the Carbon-14 method (a destructive method, said in passing, hence its use only on the piece of linen) to the Upper Egyptian epoch of 3rd to 6th centuries BC.
Furthermore, one of the bones was actually a cat's femur. Now cats were sacrified in the pyre alongside witches during the times of witch-hunting, but they were also embalmed alongside their owners during the Egyptian times! Another clue was the labeling itself: it recalled the style and syntax patterns of the 19th century, not the 15th century when Jeanne's remains would have been amassed and preserved after her cremation at Rouen in 1431. This coincided historically with the rediscovery of the myth of Joan of Arc which happened around 1867; up till that point she had been neither canonised nor were she acknoledged as a national emblem. The supposed discovery of her remains gave substance to the legend in an era of fervent French nationalism.
The objects could have been amassed easily indeed within the inventory of a Parisian doctor or apothecary of the 1860s. Powdered mummies were routinely prescribed ever since the Middle-Ages for all sort of ailments, from stomach aches to pain due to menstruation. Even the king François 1er was known to be carrying a bit of the powder in a locket around his neck for emergencies. The cat's femur could have been a fraud on its own: an apothecary trying to pass an embalmed cat as part of an Egyptian human mummy worth its weight in gold!

Therefore, the seed of the idea that the lot was actually a major historical hoax was firmly planted. It remained to be amply justified and proven.
To that end a novel approach was opted for: "We wanted a professional nose to confirm the smell [of the relics] and identify what molecules [the smells] might be," Charlier said. Fragrance experts Sylvaine Delacourte, of Guerlain, and Jean-Michel Duriez, of Jean Patou, were called for, seperately*, to determine by smell what were the essences used and to compare and contrast with known substances at the laboratory of Dr Philippe Charlier.
According to Sylvaine Delacourte, who publicized this magnificent adventure on her blog in French, the adventure was originally aimed for something completely different: Smelling the embalmed hearts of French kings at the Basilique de Saint Denis so as to determine the essences used, but when permission was not granted for that, the mission turned to other relics to which access had been granted: Those of Jeanne D'Arc! According to mme Delacourte, the specimens smelled for cross-comparing purposes for this mission were: *Ashes of Agnès Sorel (smelling of vanilla) *hair lock from a necropolis at Ica in Peru (which smelled of licorice!) *hair lock from a woman of a Beauvais convent *remains of an Egyptian mummy and *the supposed remains of Jeanne D’Arc/Joan of Arc.

Both Sylvaine and Duriez identified soft, balsamic odours emitting from the remains. Specifically there was clearly identifiable vanilla and burnt plaster (made of sulfate of calcium), both of which coincided with the hypothesis of Dr.Charlier. Vanillin (a constituent of vanilla) is a common smell produced by corpse decomposition ~hence the "sweet smell of death"!~ and is routinely witnessed in Egyptian mummies, but it is never a product occuring in victims of pyres. The burnt plaster on the other hand seems to have been a deliberate "planting": Joan of Arc was reputed to have been cremated tied not to a piece of wood, as was the custom, but on a piece of plaster so as to prolong the agony...But it was the vanilla that didn't fit!
Anastasia Tsaliki, an expert in ancient diseases at Britain's University of Durham, said she was impressed with Charlier's detective work: "It is a fascinating project and shows how forensic methods can be combined with tools used in archaeometry [the study of archaeological materials] and archaeobotany [the study of ancient plants] and osteology [the study of bones]," she told the journal Nature. [source] And archeo-sniffing I might add. Sometimes smell really is a forgotten sense!

What is even more promising is that mme Delacourte was invited on another such expedition, this time involving headspace technology, which she promises to recount to us soon. Can't reveal more, but it is sure to amaze just as this one!

*According to the article on Future Sciences recounting the results, while according to Sylvaine herself she had the idea of inviting Duriez because they're friends and she trusts his expertise.

Part of the info comes from Jean Etienne's article, appearing on Future Sciences. Translation by Elena Vosnaki @ Perfume Shrine.

Painting Joan of Arc in Prayer by John Everett Millet. Jean d'Arc remains via Futura Sciences. Egyptian mummy via the Smithsonian blogs

The Different Company History and News

Following the work of perfumer Jean Claude Ellena, I came upon The Different Company, a small niche brand which was started by him with the sole objective revealed in its name: to be different!
In one of his aphorisms, Jean Claude had professed that classical perfumery although beautiful is too perfumey for today's sensibility, much like reading Stendhal. In his quest not to understand the market though -antithetically to what major brands do, running focus groups tests for their every product- he has always been about making the market instead.

Artistic freedom obviously meant everything and in order to discourage copycats and lowly competition Ellena along with his collaborator Thierry de Baschmkoff, a relative of his and engineer-turned-bottle-designer, opted for the most smart stratagem: make the juice too expensive, too top quality.
The Different Company opened its doors in 2000 with four stunning scents: Osmanthus, a fragrance based on the precious little Chinese flower with its divine apricoty smell, Rose Poivrée which Chandler Burr has famously -and complimentary- attributed to Satan's wife in Hell, Divine Bergamot, sunny brilliance and dirty hints under the sun of Calabria and Bois d'Iris, an extraordinarily expensive in the making woody orris fragrance fit for an exiled princess.

When Jean Claude got his in-house position at Hermès in 2004, the baton was passed to his daughter, Céline Ellena. She went on to compose both rich and decadent juices such as Jasmin de Nuit as well as diaphanous organza veils ~such as the fragrances in the ‘Explorations sensorielles’ (=sensory explorations) line that is essentially a garden trio: parfum d'Ailleurs & Fleurs (of flowers and beyond), parfum de Charmes & Feuilles (of leaves and charm), and parfum des Sens & Bois (of woods and the senses). And last but not least, the incredible Sel de Vétiver, inspired by Céline tasting water aromatized with vetiver roots at an eastern friend's appartment in Paris.
Their latest Sublime Balkiss, inspired by the queen of Sheba and a modern chypre composition no less, has been having the perfume circles talking and anticipating. (notes of violet, blackcurrant, Bulgarian Rose, blueberries, blackberries, clusters of lilac and a special fraction of the essential oil of patchouli, highlighting its cocoa powder aspect)

It seems we have been richly spoiled! And to top it all of, they have opened a new boutique in Paris.

Niche fragrance brand The Different Company has just opened a stunning new boutique in Paris, in the heart of the trendy Marais quarter. For the occasion, they have paired up with make-up brand Maison Calavas, who is sharing the space. Maison Calavas is specialized in top-of-the-line make-up, with a wide range of palettes presented in colorful shagreen, lizard and snake-skin boxes. 10 rue Ferdinand Duval, Paris 4è – (+ 33) (0)1 42 78 19 34

Their own website is still great to navigate through.

Info & pic via Osmoz and The Different Company

New Series: Absinthe, Anise and Wormwood

Our new Series takes you into the realm of the forbidden and the bohemian, the realm of the "green fairy that lives in the absinthe" and all the terrors and fascinations she produces in art and perfumery. Perfume Shrine has already tentatively shown a glimpse of its bittersweet, mind-altering magic through a music video by Nine Inch Nails a few days ago, which consolidated the idea of devoting a series to Absinthe and the herbs that aromatize it.
To do that, as usual, we take the long road to explore matters in depth.

Absinthe or "devil in a bottle" is a distilled, anise-flavored, high-proof spirit produced by distilling anise, wormwood (Artemisia absinthium) and various herbs (mainly florence fennel, as well as melissa, hyssop, petite wormwood or artemisia pontica, and angelica root). Its name derives from the Greek αψίνθιον, which is the name of wormwood, but is also interestingly tied etymologically to the Greek goddess of the hunt and the forests, Artemis.
In tracing the historical roots, one comes upon the medical use of wormwood in ancient Egypt (mentioned in the Ebers Papyrus, circa 1550 BC).
Hyssop, a usual ingredient in absinthe, is also referenced in the Bible: "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow". (Psalms 51:7) There is however the hypothesis that the hyssop mentioned, used in bunches for purificatory rites and ritual cleansing of lepers by the ancient Hebrews, is probably not hyssopus officinalis used in the spirit, but a similar plant, capparis spirosa.
There are references to wormwood/la'anah as well: Deuteronomy 29:18; Proverbs 5:4; Jeremiah 9:15; Jeremiah 23:15; Lamentations 3:15, Lamentations 3:19; Amos 5:7; Amos 6:12 as well as the mention of "apsinthos" in Revelation 8:11.

What the Hebrew la'anah may have been is obscure; it is clear it was a bitter substance and it is usually associated with "gall"; in the Septuagint it is variously translated, but never by apsinthos, "wormwood." Nevertheless all ancient tradition supports the English Versions of the Bible translation. The genus Artemisia (Natural Order Compositae), "wormwood," has five species of shrubs or herbs found in Palestine (Post), any one of which may furnish a bitter taste. The name is derived from the property of many species acting as anthelmintics, while other varieties are used in the manufacture of absinthe.

~E. W. G. Masterman, International Stnadard Bible Encyclopedia (Bibletools.org)

Wormwood extracts were definitely employed by the ancient Greeks, who also consumed a wormwood-flavored wine, called absinthites oinos. The latter can be tied to Dionysus, for whom people masqueraded in an ecstatic frenzy during the god's celebrations in early spring. Anise plays an important role in Greek culture even to this day, through the similar preparation for ouzo: an anisic spirit into which water or ice is added producing a cloudy effect and "opening up" the bouquet of herbs.

Absinthe spirit originated in Switzerland, by Dr. Pierre Ordinaire, a French doctor living in Couvet in the 1790s, but it mostly became popular in France. Major Dubied acquired the formula from the Henriot sisters and in 1797, with son Marcellin and son-in-law Henry-Louis Pernod, opened the first absinthe distillery, Dubied Père et Fils. In 1805 a second distillery was built outside Switzerland, in Pontarlier, France, named Maison Pernod Fils. Absinthe's popularity largely ended with a ban in France in 1915, due to its neurotoxic properties that earned it the reputation of a psychoactive drug due to the chemical thujone, a strong heart stimulant present in small quantities in commercial absinthe. However no evidence exists that it is more harmful than ordinary liquer. Absinthe has known a resurgence in the 1990s, when countries in the European Union began to reauthorize its manufacture and sale resulting in over 200 brands circulating, although it is still controversial in the USA.

Although the absinthe distillate can be bottled clear, to produce a Blanche or la Bleue absinthe, the traditional colour has always been green, due to the chlorophyll in the herbal constituents in secondary maceration. Bohemian-style (alternatively known as Czech-style or anise-free absinthe), or just absinth (with no final e) is really wormwood bitters, produced mainly in the Czech Republic and is artificially enriched with absinthin.

Absinthe's notable role in the fine art movements of Impressionism, Post-impressionism, Surrealism, Modernism, Cubism and in the corresponding literary movements has been an inspiration for perfumers, helping them shape their creations and giving breath to la fée verte producing the 'lucid drunkenness' so coveted by artists. It is no accident that it had been the drink of choice for the "damned poets" and bohemians of the 19th century.
As a first tentative taste of the wormwood liquor attests, there is a journey to be had there!
But it is also intriguing to think that the name Chernobyl, the nuclear factory reactor which was responsible for the biggest nuclear accident in history, also means "wormwood", rounding out the biblical prophecy!

"And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters; And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter."

~Revelation 8:10-11

Ernest Dowson, the English poet famous for coining the phrase 'Absinthe makes the tart grow fonder' wrote his Absinthia Taetra on a trip to Paris. Here it is from La Fée absinthe site:

Absinthia Taetra

Green changed to white, emerald to opal; nothing was changed.
The man let the water trickle gently into his glass, and as the green clouded, a mist fell from his mind.
Then he drank opaline.

Memories and terrors beset him. The past tore after him like a panther and through the blackness of the present he saw the luminous tiger eyes of the things to be.
But he drank opaline.

And that obscure night of the soul, and the valley of humiliation, through which he stumbled, were forgotten. He saw blue vistas of undiscovered countries, high prospects and a quiet, caressing sea. The past shed its perfume over him, to-day held his hand as if it were a little child, and to-morrow shone like a white star: nothing was changed.
He drank opaline.

The man had known the obscure night of the soul, and lay even now in the valley of humiliation; and the tiger menace of the things to be was red in the skies. But for a little while he had forgotten.
Green changed to white, emerald to opal; nothing was changed.

In Francis Ford Coppola's Bram Stoker's Draculathe hypnotic effect of absinthe preparation leading to seduction is set to a mesmerising score by Polish composer Wojciech Kilar. (you can get it here)


The ritual of serving the bitter green liquid is clearly half its charm. The spirit is poured into a glass over which a specially designed slotted spoon is placed. A sugar cube is then deposited on the spoon and ice-cold water is poured or dripped over the sugar, diluting it to preference. Adding sugar is essential as absinthe is extremely bitter and the essential oils so prized can't come out of suspension by themselves. The non-soluble in water components, mainly those from anise, fennel, and star anise, come out of solution with the water addition resulting in a milky opalescence called the louche (French for “shady”), common in other anisic drinks as well, such as ouzo.

Other films focus on the green spirit as well: Moulin Rouge's absinthe scene is inspired by painter and patron Toulouse Lautrec's own habit of absinthe drinking in the historical music-hall of Paris housed in an old windmill.La fée verte takes the shape of Kylie Minogue, talking with the voice of Ozzy Osbourne.
In From Hell Johnny Depp as Frederick Abberline in pursuit of Jack the Ripper succumbs to the charms of absinthe and laudanum (tinctura opii). But its reputation for being an aphrodisiac is what influenced the scriptwriter for Alfie to include it in a scene in which a sexually voracious older woman (Susan Sarandon) introduces the womaniser into both absinthe and a taste of his own drug.
Lust for Life,a film with Kirk Douglas, also features lots of absinthe consuming scenes, as allegedly the drink was at the root of the painter Van Gogh's madness. In Manon of the Spring glimpses of the practice set in the French countryside can also be seen.

But possibly the film which most accurately references absinthe and wormwood in relation to those who actually made it a trademark, the 19th century "damned poets", is Total Eclipse, the story of the torrid, tempestuous relationship between Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud. Perhaps an unsuccessful film, it holds its special interest for those who are interested in the minutiae of 19th century style and mores.

Adding:An interesting article on modern day absinthe in the US can be found via The New York Times.


To be continued on that note with an exploration of such themes in art and literature and the olfactory pictures they conjure.

Pic of Johnny Depp from film From Hell , as well as label of Dubied Père et Fils courtesy of the wormwoodsociety. Dracula clip uploaded by Richardcontact1962

Too many launches? Some perfume history...

We have been saying it among ourselves -and hearing it discussed in perfume circles- constantly recently: there are just too many launches. Enough!

So it came as a mild surprise upon reading Le Parfum by Jean Claude Ellena in French (on which more commentary later on) that it might have always been so, actually...
In the span of Les Années Folles (the 20s) and a little later, the surgence of couturiers/fashion designers gave rise to the marketability of perfume as a means to consolidate the image of the designer, the unique positioning of each house. And thus it might have inadvertedly inaugurated the modern commerce of fragrance as a commodity to indulge as a final step in creating a "look".

Paul Poiret was on the vanguard: a true "dandy" of the Belle Époque who realised that it was vital to imbue everything produced under the umbrella of his name with his unique spirit and image. His line Les Parfums de Rosine is celebrated for the quality, although he commited the romantic error of not signing with his own commercially established name but with his daughter's; which might have cost it in the marketability stakes.
Poiret was the first designer to hire a professional perfumer-chemist, Maurice Shaller. Between him and Henri Alméras, la maison Poiret produced 50 original perfumes between 1910 and 1925. It bears repeating: 50 different perfumes in 15 years. The number is impressive, to say the least! Surely not that different than what most major houses do these days: one launch for autumn-winter and another in the summer (often a flanker of the previous one) and perhaps a male counterpart to satisfy that portion of the market as well.

The Callot sisters, couturiers themselves, also imitated the move and decided to create a fragrance line of numerous offerings that would be circulated exclusively for their esteemed clients. The evocative names range from Mariage d'Amour (=marriage out of love) to La fille de roi (=the king's daughter) to Bel Oiseau Bleu (=beautiful blue bird) and we are led to believe they were catering to the ever expanding desires of the bourgeoisie who were frequenting their boutique.

During 1925-1950 French couturier Lucien Lelong was ever prolific, producing 40 fragrances in a short span of years, before retiring in 1952. The first ones bore the cryptic symbols-more-than-names A,B,C,J, and N.
The number of launches though is impressive: almost 1 new fragrance every 7-8 months! Think about it.
The Guerlain catalogue is also rich in numerous launches, often in the same year. Case in point the multiple fragrances created within 1828, 1834, 1873, 1890, 1895 and 1922, to name but a few ~although they do have the difference that they were commissioned by patrons. But still, this shows that fragrance houses were prolific even back then.

In light of the above it is perhaps not entirely correct to accuse houses of producing too many products. What is more accurate is to realise that there are simply astoundingly more perfume companies, designers, niche perfumers, celebrities and various entities today, all tangled up in the dubious world of perfumery. Perhaps they have cottoned up to the fact that perfume is "the most indispensible superficiality", to quote Colette, and therefore have been producing fragrance as a quick means to make a point, consolidate a brand or simply to make a quick buck. But they have had illustrious paradigms to the practice: who can blame them, really?



Pic by TonyM/flickr

Miracle Forever by Lancome: fragrance review

What is it that makes us pick up a bottle and anoint ourselves with its jus tentatively in the first place? The inviting colour, the presentation, the name, the brand imbued in history, the luring advertising? For me and Miracle Forever it was surely the beautiful colour of the bottle. Cradled in a simple architectural glass vessel of intense rosy-tinged purple Lancôme’s latest offspring will surely catch the eye. Justifiably so.

Lancôme is no stranger to perfumery. In fact its founder Armand Petijean, a Frenchman who had been François Coty’s student, started his company in 1935. While vacationing in the French countryside, Armand Petitjean happened upon a castle ruin that intrigued him- Le château de Lancôme. Inspired by the delicate, fragrant roses which grew among the weathered stones he went on to choose the rose as the symbol of his new company because he believed rose encapsulated the feminine beauty of a woman, hoping to bring the same beauty he experienced into the lives of all women.

Or so the legend goes. There is some controversy to the issue and out of a pure journalistic and historic point of interest I set out to see if this is true. Especially as Lancôme shouldn't necessarily be written with an accent circumflex. Armand Petitjean was looking for a name that sounded typically French like Vendôme or Brantôme. It was one of his assistants that came up with the idea of "Lancosme" (in which the "s" is not pronounced) - the name of a château in the Indre region of France. This impressed Petitjean and the spelling was eventually changed. The circumflex now perched above the "o" is the one that replaced the "s", in an effort to establish the idea of French-ness to the international market and the rose became the symbol of the company, appearing on boxes and in ads ever since.

The debut of the new fangled company was orchestrated with meticulous care and precision. Not one, not two, but five exquisite fragrances were simultaneously launched at the June opening of the Universal Exhibition in Brussels in summer 1935. The scents were Tendre Nuit, Bocages, Conquete, Kypre and Tropiques. A prize followed for mr. Petitjean’s company.
With his firm now firmly in the center of attention, he went on to produce skincare and makeup with great success, coming to the US in the 50s, attaching the company’s name to prestige and luxury from France for women everywhere. The line-up would then be joined by the immaculate oriental Magie.
Nearly all the bottles for the company’s scents were created by the great artist Georges Delhomme and they are today collectors' items. The Fish-Moon bottle for the eau de cologne Cachet Bleu (1935) is especially celebrated while the bottle with the engraved jasmine in bloom could contain different fragrances. The sensually shaped amphora of Marrakech brought out in 1947 today commands astronomical prices.

Envol coming out in 1957 combines rose and jasmine, and the bottle, with its original bud-vase shaped design, is complete with a rosebud cap.
In 1969 Ô, a fresh eau de toilette full of petitgrain and lemony tones with a tenacious sandalwood base that prevents it from fleeting into thin air was introduced in a frosted bottle with designs like a 60s wallpaper. Very pop-art and it soon firmly became a favourite for many people who embraced its fresh breeze in an era ripe for revolt and change, to hell with the old. This was followed in 1987 by Ô Intense, a now defunct offering that supposedly made the cologne more in tune with the heavier atmosphere of the carnal 80s, based as it was on rose absolute, a heavy attar. The accent circumflex is again redundant, but it entered the name in an effort to consolidate the spirit of Lancôme to the comsumer’s mind, a subtle move of great cunning, copied also in Ô for Men, another discontinued item, since the original was secretly used by many discerning males anyway. The last flanker to join this line was Ô Oui ! in 1998, and this one has stayed the course, but to me it is hardly related to the original, as it is bursting with aqueous fruits, in which melon is predominant, on a base of eunuch-innocent musks and has none of the crystalline transparency of its older sister.
Meanwhile the great Sikkim was launched in 1971, a rich fragrance enriched with Bulgarian rose and jasmine combination on a base worthy of a Caron perfume. Today Sikkim is sold exclusively at the Lancôme Institute: 29, rue du Faubourg Saint Honoré - 75008 PARIS
Not to bypass the completely elegant floral chypre named Climat that aromatized the 70s with its aura of infinite grace and romance , the men’s Sagamore with the intense woody character of a bygone era or the dark oriental “parfum fourrure” (fur coat perfume, as the French call these) brilliantly baptised Magie Noire (Black magic) of deep incensy rose with disturbing amber and labdanum.

It was the year 1990 that saw the great bestseller of the brand, Trésor, a quite heavy-handed but soft, powdery, fruity composition by nose Sophia Grojsman, allying rose with peach in a formula that in fact relies mainly in 4 ingredients: Hedione (a synthetic jasmine), methyl ionone (a sweet fruity aroma), Iso E Super (a woody synthetic), and Galaxolide (a synthetic musk). The winning combination proved uber-successful to the point of asphyxia in many a european elevator during the early nineties.

The same intense fruitiness with the former -and the intentional spelling accident appearing in Ô- persisted in Poême in 1996. Fronted by the gorgeous, vulnerable looking French actress Juliette Binoche this was a mega-launch that was accompanied by verse by Baudelaire and Hugo for a fragrance that relied on an overdose of what appears to be orange blossom in clotted cassis (a fruity synthetic berry base). The sledgehammer sweetness dictates an extremely light application of this one.
The limited time window of the seasonal offering Mille et une rose to celebrate the millenium, which left hundreds of fans of its wonderful ambery rose tunes crestfallen when it got discontinued, has been recently amended by the introduction of 2001 Roses which is to be a mainstay, along with Sikkik, Climat and Magie in a Collection with limited distribution at select stores.

Miracle was added in 2000 with the face of Uma Thurman and the motto “Lancôme believes in miracles and magic” and Miracle Forever is joining the fairytale as a flanker now. Apart from the original Miracle, there is also Miracle Summer (2004 Limited edition), Miracle So Magic (2004) and Miracle Ultra Pink (2005), not to mention the male version Miracle Homme. As all these fragrances (the women’s at least) are more or less simple florals with varying degrees of depth so a woody oriental permutation was needed to clinch the deal and bring Miracle into the whirlwind of today’s taste for the sweet and patchouli-rich aromas of women’s perfumes. Of course one might argue that this segment has already been filled in Lancôme by Attraction (a not so successful attempt at an orientalised sensual perfume inspired by Angel) and the truly too recent Hypnôse (2005, another take on the gourmand patchouli orientalia of Angel).

Miracle Forever begins its fragrant journey on the weirdly spicy trip of star anise, the fragrant star-shaped fruit of Illicium anisatum, coupled with the sweetness of blackcurrant as if someone has spiked a kir royal cocktail with a pinch of a Chinese culinary aroma. The touch of the aromatic makes for an interesting beginning that is not completely out of synch with the light energising ginger accord of the original Miracle, although that one culminated in a floralncy that was less sweet and more airy.
The heart is floral with peony and white florals of which tuberose is listed, yet does not make its presence known to my nose. Instead the almond blossom which featured also in Yves Saint Laurent’s Cinema and in Kenzo Amour recently, lends a little powdery touch in alliance with the heliotrope spectrum, while the whole culminates in the rich patchouli swirls of fancy that fan out vanilla and amber in copious amounts, restrained only by a tad of cedar in the background making it last long. The overall sweetness differentiates it from the more woody, albeit similar in construction Allure Sensuelle by Chanel, making it more intense and more in your face. I think this is its greatest fault and the reason some will find it too much. If one genuinely likes the recent variations on the sweet patchouli fragrances, like Armani Code, MontBlanc Femme, Euphoria by Calvin Klein or indeed Hypnôse, Miracle Forever won’t disappoint. For the rest it is a case of a slight déjà vu.

Miracle Forever comes in an Eau de Parfum concentration in 30ml/1oz , 50ml/1.7oz and 75ml/2.5oz and the ads feature brunette beauty Shallom Harlow. It has already launched in Europe this fall, while it will launch in the US in 2007.

Pic of bottle from Perfumemart, ad for Envol courtesy of Okadi.