Twin Peaks: Korres Pure Cotton & Prada Infusion d'Iris

Do you associate iris the fragrance note with pure cotton? You should. Today's comparison involves two fragrances which share the same olfactory core in a language that has become Morse code for comfort, effortless elegance and sophisticated grooming.

Back in the 1970s and 1980s the scent of "groomed female" involved some floral aldehydic fragrance with the powerful blanched aspect of something termed White Linen (and we will revert to that) or First by Van Cleef & Arpels (or even Chanel No.5 for the purists), while still topping everything with the garland of sweet ladylike flowers. It probably involved matching ensembles, genuine supple kid skin leather goods and a 18K gold trinity ring by Cartier.
Our Millenial rotation has dispensed with the niceties and the romantic semiotics of flowers (especially since the metrosexual male partook in female ritual) and appreciates the "clean" "dry" feel minus the glamour and the hard cash. Enter the iris and white musk brigade that has been hammering down our collective nose door for a full on decade as the new code for "groomed".

via Korres Instagram

The "cotton" mention is thus explained; the former hot iron on a starched linen shirt coming from aldehydes is now smothered into the downy soft fabric softener feel of irones on freshly laundered cotton sheets (irones form the main constituent in the scent of iris/orris). You can casually stroll any super-market aisle and pick up any product in the body products range or even the laundry detergents/fabric softeners; "cotton" is code for lots of irones and white musks. Case in point? Carrefour's Cotton shower gel, for one.

Infusion d'Iris doesn't smell particularly iris-y. truth be told. That is, it's not the starchy pasta-and-sourdough feel one gets from orris, the dried rhizome "resinous" extraction coming after macerating the roots, even though the perfume's whole marketing standpoint stresses that technique ("infusion" etc. though if you notice, in the "list" of "ingredients" on the packaging iris/orris isn't mentioned). It's a powerfully woody resinous "clean" smelling entity with formidable attributes that do not proclaim their presence.  Benzoin, cedar notes and a hint of incense resin give warmth-coolness contrasts and copious tenacity and I suspect musk does too. This is also what I smell from the Korres Pure Cotton fragrance and the scratchy (but in a good way) lily of the valley aromachemical that signifies "I feel pretty, oh so pretty".

Beyond perfumery tropes, nevertheless, there is a very practical, tangible reason why Perfume Shrine's smell-alike perfumes articles, Twin Peaks, are so popular and this post is one such case. The full effect of the well-established best-seller by Prada comes at the fraction of the price in the newer incarnation by Korres! In fact Korres is probably playing on one of their older eaux de toilette, Iris Lily of the Valley Cotton. 

If you have been following our blog for years, you surely recall our dinosaur-worthy article of how much perfume actually costs. The internet has since erupted on similar breakdowns of cost vs. retail price, but beyond the pure logistics, any dedicated fan will tell you you're paying not for the raw materials but for the expertise, the know how, the tradition, the beautiful aesthetics...in the end for the sheer experience. (And that's why if you haven't read The Aesthetic Principle you really should). Price is irrelevant if you truly love what you get.

from the Wallpaper "Clean Slate" editorial featuring Korres products, via Korres Instagram

And yet, how do you explain two perfumes that are so close in scent that opting for one when having your eyes closed wouldn't produce a micro-grimace (lips falling down on one side, eyes rolling up) of distrustful apprehension?  Of course lots of other brands and companies have cottoned on (can't help the pun) to the success of the Prada Infusion d'Iris, not least Prada itself (mainly with their Infusion d'Homme). Chanel for one seems to have revitalized the No.19 perfume stable with Chanel No.19 Poudre, a scent which smells more like something from Prada (a soap devised by Prada) than traditional Chanel (a soap referencing Chanel)...and feel free to call me reductionist if you like, since I'm sorta sacrilegiously "reducing" both to soap. (Though soap is hard business to get right). And I'm coming round to the beginning of my parsing treatise; it's probably Dove and their classic soap scent which has inspired this whole genre. Something fluffy, soft, powdery and full of irones, lily of the valley, orange flower and white musks.

Fragrantica categorizes Korres Pure Cotton (part of the newly launched Eau de Cologne range) into the "aromatic spicy" fragrances and gives (the official) notes of mandarin orange (on top), iris (in the heart) and amber (in the base). It is an eau de cologne edition in a biggish bottle in the familiar elegant Korres aesthetics with a matte black rubber spraying mechanism. It smells and performs exactly the same as Prada's original Infusion d'Iris eau de parfum. Perfumephiles on a budget, rejoice!

Tale of two irises (Prada Infusion d'iris and Guerlain Iris Ganache)

Like Charles Dickens knew so well, there is some charm in correlating different things and finding respective affinities. After all one would devoutly wish for an interaction between entities in the universe; a sense of belonging, of not being cut out. Dissimilar things can resemble each other in some ways while their contrast is piquant and intriguing. Such is the case with two iris perfumes that came out recently: Iris Ganache by Guerlain, their 5th scent in the exclusive L’Art et la Matière exclsuive boutique line and Prada Infusion d'iris, a new feminine scent from the italian leather and fashion company.

Guerlain tells us that this new scent is

"Un beurre d’iris travaillé comme une ganache en pâtisserie"

which roughly translates as "iris butter worked like patissery ganache".
Ganache is a sort of chocolate cream that is thick and smooth, more solid than liquid. One would assume that we are dealing with a gourmand iris and that one would not be far off.

Iris/Orris is the rhizome of a beautiful flower, mystical, subtle and discreetly melancholic, encompassing dusty, powdery and mineral qualities. The essence of a fairy that is about to die in a puff of her delicate wings. In Iris Ganache that delicate fairy is munching meringues and feeling quite well, thank you very much. Perfumer Thierry Wasser (aided by artistic director Sylvaine Delacourte) managed to marry opposites creating something that is decidedly not as audacious as it first sounds, but rather a fluffy concoction that has a tinge of violets, quite like those sweet ones surfacing in Guerlain's more commercial scent Insolence. The feel of the violet is delectable, with a tinge of milky kid's chocolate drink, a direction that was explored in one of the limited edition versions of Oscar de la Renta's, namely Oscar Violet. There, again, the unmistakable dusting of sweetened Nesquik is painting the picture in foody terms. One might even think of the light orientalised theme of last year's Ange ou Démon by Givenchy. Suffice to say that this reminiscence does not great originality make for Iris Ganache...

The opening on bergamot and cinnamon is abstract and not as spicy as that in Musc Ravageur by F.Malle, although I am sure they were aiming for something sexy in that direction.
However, this is what makes it approachable despite the "difficult" for many note of iris. If we are to take Dickens's approach to the fore, Iris Ganache is decidedly French, representing Paris, all cafés and bistros; not Café Flore with its existential milieu of Sartre and Beauvoir, animately drawing puffs from their dark cigarettes that the French love so much. This is rather a bourgeois salon de thé, where the guests are sporting pouffy chiffon blouses that caress bodies prone to sensuality thanks to the ambery fond and the musk that embrace the white chocolate. This is the less cerebral and intellectual side of Paris as befits a house that was infamously producing scents for cocottes.

Prada Infusion d'iris on the other hand is more London-like, less indulgent, much less gourmet: all wet pavement and airy notes of a steely sky that sustain themselves on a very slight vanillic base that comes from benzoin. Poised between the crystalline opening of Iris Nobile by Aqua di Parma, a fresh breath of citrusy sensuality, and the earthy yet light depths of Olivia Giacobetti's Hiris for Hermes, Infusion d'iris is the equivalent of a metallic-hued slip of a dress over a young body that radiates intelligence and discreet sensuousness. A woman that enters an indian temple, inquisitive and with a mystical yearning. There is a smooth feel to it that caresses the soul, a nod to a thinking woman's scent, with a touch of childlike softness that reminds me of an infant's s hair washed in Johnson's Baby Shampoo. The liaison is weird no doubt and the breakdown of notes does not do it justice.

The mention of lentisque made me see that it is mastic, the very Greek resin from the island of Chios that is used for the world's only natural chewing gum, skincare products, liquors and products for medicinal use. I can't say that the aroma of mastic is instantly recognisable as such, despite my familiarity with it. However there is a greeness and woodiness that makes for a very endearing emotion; that of familiarity, of belonging, of touching the earth.

Prada claimed they got inspired by an old technique of haute parfumerie (infusion) that allowed the roots of iris to "marinate" for 6 months so as to render the true soft, fresh and powdery aroma of iris and Daniela Andrier for Givaudan succeeded in producing one of the loveliest scents of the season, even if I suspect there are synthetic aromachemicals at play. It comes in minimal light pistachio-green-labeled bottle of Eau de Parfum and it is wonderfully tenacious without ever becoming suffocating.

While Iris Ganache will appeal to those who do not go for intense, carroty irises like Iris silver Mist by Lutens, Infusion d'iris might fill the void when the mood calls for something airier than the former.

Official notes:

Iris Ganache: bergamot, cinnamon, iris butter, white chocolate, patchouli, cedar, amber, vanilla, musk, powdery notes.

Infusions d'iris: galbanum, tunisian neroli, italian mandarin, lentisque (mastic), iris, cedar, vetiver, benzoin from Laos, somalian incense


For inquiries and orders on Iris Ganache call + 33 (0)1 45 62 52 57.
Prada Infusion d'iris is available in major department stores.


Pic originally uploaded at cofe.ru