Annick Goutal Myrrhe Ardente: fragrance review

Amidst perfumes with dominant myrrh Myrrhe Ardente makes for sharp contrast. Indeed Myrrhe Ardente (perfervid myrrh) by Annick Goutal had a totally different approach than either Serge Lutens La Myrrhe or Keiko Mecheri Myrrhe et Merveilles. There was no attempt of dressing an apocryphal smell into classic tailoring to render it wearable by a modern sensibility.

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On the contrary, the element of myrrh was taken as a significant nod to the sweeping genre of Orientalism that marked the late 19th century and which almost singlehandedly - if we count Guerlain and Houbigant as those influenced by it -  gave us modern perfumery.

Camille Goutal then and her perfumer Isabelle Doyen began with a beautiful thesis proposition in 2007: how would oriental bath rituals of the harems (as seen in paintings by Ingres and the rest of the masters of the times) translate into scents? The sensuous Les Orientalistes line was born; initially a line of three fragrances for women or men which included Ambre Fetiche, Myrrhe Ardente and Encens Flamboyant. By the next year, another addition to the line increased the number by one: Musc Nomade; a vegetal musk which I count among my most favorites, built on ambrette seed.
They're all sensual fumes, molding themselves into the idea we have of the Orient and it seems to me (only a casual observation which might be proven wrong) that people seem to prefer either the opulent Ambre or the densely smoky Encens out of the quartet. My own preference lies to the outsiders.

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The Goutal fragrance implores us to look upon myrrh with eyes sooted with the blackest black of the lamp which burns lighting up the harem and to adorn our body with oils which speak of a thousand caravans carrying mysterious cargo across the Middle East. It makes me think of Loti; not Plato. The sweet facets brought out by the addition of benzoin and beeswax bring out a sticky "cola" note which is not at all at odds with the natural shade of the essential oil of myrrh. The gentle smokiness rendered by the earthy woody notes of vetiver is a welcome reminder that we're dealing with something that harkens back to the roots of perfumery; "through smoke".

Annick Goutal Les Absolus 1001 Ouds: fragrance review

Not unfittingly I had waited till I had written my articles on myrrh resin before writing my full perfume review of the latest Annick Goutal 1001 Ouds fragrance in the Les Absolus range. That's because rather than being a fully fledged oud/aoudh fragrance this oriental elixir features myrrh in a key player position.

photo Vitor Schietti

The trend for oudh has been going strong and every brand has embraced the innovations of the fragrance industry. Some say this particular trend is an unpardonable sin (and indeed only Chanel seems impervious to the flummox as of this moment) so an oud-centric perfume from Annick Goutal did not spell optimism in my heart of hearts. Especially as the combination of oudh with rose has been the hallmark of tried and tested combinations surgically transplanted from Middle Eastern perfumery -where they thrive in local blends- and then watered down for western usage.
Nevertheless 1001 Ouds in Les Absolus d'Annick Goutal managed to not fulfill the desire for apostasy that ran in the back of my mind. Two key ingredients which are featured in a clever way by perfumer composer Isabel Doyen are responsible for the rekindled interest.

Myrrh resin, bittersweet and poignant, is restraining the stomping boots of the oudh note. Thankfully as most contemporary oudh compositions, lacking the complexity of a traditional oudh perfume essence, run the risk of coming across as rather aggressive (the dreaded Band Aid note) and a little too invasive, like a stranger in leather gear on public transport making intense eye contact out of the blue. The woody effect given by papyrus wood is slightly smoky, the feel of a distant campfire rather than having the barbecue right on the lawn.

Rose phobics or those who do like rose but dread the engulfing tentacles of it when combined with usual suspects sandalwood or oudh in an Arabian setting need not be scared. The rose in 1001 Ouds by Annick Goutal is providing a softened, mellowed bridge between the more challenging ingredients, polishing the corners and smoothening the edges. This well known perfumers' trick works especially well here; one doesn't really discern the rose, only the humming warmth and glow that resembles a copper-toned lipstick on an olive skinned lady.

As might be suspected by the notes 1001 Ouds leans to the shared fragrances side of the spectrum and men and women alike would enjoy it without problems. In fact the creative team at Annick Goutal present the Les Absolus trio as a lovers' shared sensuous experience and they couldn't be closer to the truth. These are warm, soft, enveloping fragrances to share with those you cherish the most.

As with the rest of Les Absolus, beautiful presentation, demanding prices.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Annick Goutal fragrance reviews and news
Oud/Aoudh/Agarwood: perfume raw material
Les Absolus d'Annick Goutal: perfume reviews 

Annick Goutal Les Absolus Vanille Charnelle: fragrance review

The problem with the term "charnelle" (carnal in French) for Anglo-speaking audiences persists after the online mocking of Guerlain's analogous fragrances (Les Elixirs Charnels or better known as Carnal Elixirs). Of course one might argue it's hard to beat Poupée (doll in French) by Rochas... Nevertheless don't let that distract you from the creamy goodness of the latest Annick Goutal vanilla fragrance, Vanille Charnelle, part of Les Absolus d'Annick Goutal luxury perfumes trio.

Vanilla fragrances can come in various guises and heaven knows one more vanilla is not what is missing from the market, especially at this point. However the polished touch of perfumer Isabelle Doyen and art director Camille Goutal promises a milk bath preceding a lovers' tryst Popaea (Sabena) style.

The butyric note in Vanille Charnelle is held down by two interesting elements making the fluffy base more playful; one is a peppery note that tingles the sinuses with the anticipation of a session of light spanking, the other a nectarous ylang ylang which brings the floralcy of vanilla into focus. Dark vanillas exhibit boozy, dark, whiskey and rum facets, but Vanille Charnelle is more reminiscent of almonds than of booze and has that goose down feel that white musk has when done right.

For Goutal, who had already offered the moderately priced Vanille Exquise, which many vanilla lovers counted among the ones they love, the decision to offer a disproportionately elevated in the posh stakes vanilla sounds rather odd. But vanilla is a known aphrodisiac, as per pop culture (and who can forget the Guerlain claims to Shalimar being cat nip thanks to its rich, dark, leathery vanilla) and it seems one can't have too many in one line. It also ensures a steady interest at the counter...

The luxurious presentation by Annick Goutal in the Les Absolus line, that opens like the scene of a theatre production to reveal a performance by good actors, merits the asking price more than the innovation of the formula. Still...pas mal du tout.


Related reading on Perfume Shrine: 
Annick Goutal news & reviews
Top Vanilla Fragrances: a Series

Annick Goutal Les Absolus Ambre Sauvage: fragrance review

ISIPCA perfumer teacher Isabelle Doyen and art director for the Goutal brand Camille Goutal have proven their flair for the concept of an "oriental" perfume mainly through the collection Les Orientalistes some years ago. A trio of worthwhile scents came out in 2007 including Ambre Fetiche Encens Flamboyant and Myrrhe Ardente. The collection was augmented in 2008 with Musc Nomade a firm favorite of mine in the stakes of intimate musk fragrances. Their current output on the orientalist theme for their more upscale line Les Absolus(there's also Vanille Charnelle and 1001 Ouds) leaves me rather hesitant as to how much this is a corporate decision rather than an artistic one; especially taking into consideration the details surrounding Ambre Sauvage.

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One look at the luxurious packaging and the price asked (195 euros for 75ml of eau de parfum) suggests a target audience of wealthy patrons shopping for posh gifts; Cartier lighters and Tiffany's more serious silver pieces engraved for the ocassion. This is undoubtedly true for most niche fragrance brands nowadays; just look at the Section d'Or by Serge Lutens (including L'Incidiaire and all the others) with its stratospheric prices! It's not an easy to digest truth for readers of perfume blogs and fora but it is nonetheless true enough and one should at one point make peace with the facts.

But what about the scent?

Sauvage (i.e. wild) is a name brandished a lot in 2015 because of the masculine fragrance launch of the same name by Christian Dior and LVMH. Loosely based on part of the name of the classic Eau Sauvage from the 1960s the modern Sauvage is anything but. Similarly Ambre Sauvage (Wild Amber) by Annick Goutal is not to be taken literally.

Amber by its own makeup is a scent produced by the synergy of two colliding forces; the dark resinous id of labdanum/cistus and the malleable softness of vanillin super-ego. I have elsewhere described how some ambers seem to be like child-POV engulfing hugs by well meaning aunts; too much of a good thing. Thankfully the refined French aesthetic of Doyen and Goutal ensure that their manipulation of the materials is never saturated. The raw materials become in their hands building blocks of a gouache where the colors melt into one another to the point where you can't quite discern where one begins and one ends. Doyen and Goutal have argued that basing their concept on the etymology of raw materials is a whole different ball game than working on memories; memories can only go as far in the pursuit of olfactory accuracy. By following the material's arc one can direct themselves into a mapped out path and deviate knowingly.

This is at once grace and irony in this case nevertheless: with sauvage in the name one expects something untamed and untramelled even by the codes of gallic civility and correct navigation. Neither the inclusion of patchouli (a lightly chypre facet) nor the wink of a leather-animalic quality in the top notes evoke a wildness that would be out of place in a salon. Ambre Sauvage is a classic refined amber rather than a poet maudit. Unlike Ambre Sultan by Lutens with its uncinventional aromatic impression of a Moroccan dish the Goutal fragrance is quite Parisian.

These two elements (leather and patchouli) do lend nevertheless a sophisticated character that cuts it above the soup of sameness among many ambres in the niche market. A delicious cooling smoke-chocolate hint recalls the treatment of lavender drawn through to its caramelic end of the spectrum in Doyen's L'Eau de Lavande for Annick Goutal many many years ago... The more Ambre Sauvage dries down the more it declaws itself; thanks to vanilla absolute coming forth creamy and smooth and mouthwatering but never cloyingly sweet. And it's perfect on a man as well. It's hard to dislike Ambre Sauvage.

Furthermore Ambre Sauvage smells dangerously close to Ambre Fetiche. Although the latter is among the better ambers out there (and one of the ambers I personally wear for that very reason) the launch of the former at this point in time suggests that a rather more concentrated edition with obviously high end packaging is meant to aim at more moneyied customers. Not necessarily more discerning ones. One might want to make peace with the facts at last.

Annick Goutal Duel: fragrance review

Like erotic opponents distancing themselves from each other only to better aim at the heart with a fatal gunshot, the materials in Annick Goutal's fragrance Duel are juxtaposed, yet strangely sharing common ground. One can't shake the impression they'll both live to tell the tale, till a certain point at the very least.

Paraguayan petit grain, a distillate from the leaves and twigs of the citrus aurantia v.amara aka the bitter orange tree [learn about its many raw materials for perfumery here], gives the citrusy top note, Maté absolute provides a leathery undertone; this South American herb has an aroma between black tea and cut hay. The cunning thing is the two notes complement each other rather than oppose one another; the tang of the former provides a welcome suaveness to the pungency of the latter. Maybe they ought to reconcile and with Gallic charm and a gentle shrug of the shoulders decide to share the damsel after all, if she agrees.

The green aura of the combination of the two raw materials, petit grain and maté absolute  (a common facet of both, their "touching back to back" so to speak) provides a summery diversion.
The house's art director, Camille Goutal, daughter of Annick, and perfumer Isabelle Doyen wanted to exploit the green character of mate absolute as well as its leather-scented backdrop into a modern, avant-garde composition that would appeal to those searching for something gentle yet substantial.
Its many facets (hay billowy softness, refreshing hesperidic tanginess, dry austere tobacco-leather) make it graceful and interesting.

Hints of tobacco and iris ground the airier, more fleeting notes in Duel without weighting them down. A prolonged fuzzy softness due to white musk is what makes the fragrance, although featured as a masculine in the Goutal canon, totally wearable by women as well. Like other masculine scents by Goutal, like the little known Eau du Fier, or the helichrysum roasted feel of Sables, Duel can be shared.

Personally I love using this cologne when wearing khakis and white T-shirts, with only sunscreen and mascara on my face, it seems to complement this kind of 'woman on a journalistic mission' rather well ; sort of gives me the energy I need in the heat to feel collected enough to pursue my line of research.

Bottom line: Duel is quite fresh yet oddly sexy; it smells the way Gabriel Garcia Bernal looks.

Available as eau de toilette 100ml at Goutal counters in select boutiques.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: 
Annick Goutal perfume reviews and news
The Leather Fragrance Series
Top 10 Masculine Fragrances
Gender Bender: Masculine Colognes Shared by Women, Feminine Fragrances Worn by Men

Les Nez Turtle Vetiver Front: fragrance review & draw

An anarchic perfume? Why not?

an outlaw perfume
that doesn't recognize any rules or regulations
it hasn't been tested on animals
but one Turtle with his kind consent

Matthew Stoned for Dazed & Confused Oct.2011

Thus is Turtle Vetiver Front, the second installment in the limited edition series that began in 2009 with Turtle Vetiver Exercise No. 1, being introduced to us by Swiss niche line Les Nez, uncompromising in its catering for individuality and art-concepts. The new fragrance is part of the Turtle Salon (if you don't know about it, here's your chance to discover), hence the Turtle referenced, and was composed by ISIPCA teacher and perfumer Isabelle Doyen.

According to the blurb "For Turtle Vetiver Front, the smoky and flinty facets of vetiver are brought to the fore, with carbon paper and freshly printed newspaper effects; an unexpected coconut note softens this austere blend and makes this iteration more easily wearable than the first, while preserving its raw power".

Indeed the new Les Nez fragrance opens intensely, with the swamp-like qualities of vetiver grass oil, which recall vast expanses of muddy waters where crocodiles might lurk, rather than techno-age associations; Creature of the Swamp more than 9 to 5 with its carbon papers, even though there is a hint of inkiness possibly due to quite a bit of oakmoss in the formula and a 3D quality thanks to a drop of natural ambergris. Les Nez doesn't really have to be IFRA compliant, nor is it cost-effective bound. The effect is overall flinty, inky, swampy, even phenolic from a certain angle when sprayed. Almost immediately Turtle Vetiver Front takes on a very discernible fig leaf facet with cedar wood, sweetened with the milky note that is inherent in the fruit's sack: the whiteish, coconutty-laced note we have come to get introduced to from Premier Figuier and really now find in Santal Massoia (Hermès) and Santal Blush by Tom Ford  (as well as in a woody butch iteration in Santal 33 by Le Labo). Coconut has a reputation to scare the horses, as it's been played to death by aroma-care companies that churn it out in devilish cones lurking at the back of Ukranian-driven taxis and overdoses that can turn rotten-sweet in suntan lotions and Pina Colada cocktails, but if those are your associations you need not worry: This is a new development in the industry we will be seeing more of, using coconut lactone to soften woody compositions and with the usual refinement of both Les Nez and Doyen the coconut facet is both subtle and delightful, merely giving a caress. If you liked that element in Santal Massoia, you will most definitely like it here too.

Compared to Turtle Vetiver Exercise 1 (the first edition), the original was rawer, more robust, with a pronounced salty true aspect to the vetiver, iodine-like and sea-reminiscent, with that "briny/marine" tonality in Goutal's Vetiver, also composed by Doyen; unique, delightfully bracing, for hard-core vetiver fans! In Turtle Vetiver Front, the greener and milky elements are that of the shore which solaces the wounded under the shadow of the fig trees, providing a softer turn which would make it very wearable for men and women alike.The inky top notes reminiscent of Lalique's Encre Noire swirl back and forth between rawness and the softness of fig/coconut, producing a lasting vetiver fragrance that will get discussed (and which I personally liked a lot). NB. When stocks run out, the third iteration, Turtle Vetiver Back will challenge us more with an edgier interpretation!

Notes for Les Nez Turtle Vetiver Front: vetiver, coconut lactone (synthetic coconut note), moss and ambergris.

LesNez Turtle Vetiver Front is available in Eau de Parfum, 50ml/1.7oz for $120 on the official Les Nez site. Profits are given to Turtle and there are only 90 splash bottles available. There are also samples available for purchase.

I have a deluxe sample atomiser for one lucky reader.
Please say what you like or not like in vetiver & coconut fragrances in the comments to enter. Draw remains open till Sunday midnight.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Vetiver Series, Les Nez fragrances.

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent 2 samples in the mail. 

Annick Goutal Eau du Fier: fragrance review

Embarking on Eau du Fier (2000), probably the most profoundly esoteric fragrance in the Annick Goutal perfume line, is like plunging yourself body & soul in the most smoky osmanthus-laced tea pot. It never really caught on, reverted quickly to the exclusive Parisian boutique salespoint and has been entirely discontinued now registering as very rare. A victim of its tough swagger and unconventionality. My own precious bottle was among the relatively older batches featured on the Parisian shelves from around 2005, but these shelves have dried up by now. The reason? Perfumer Isabelle Doyen had used a high level of natural birch tar, now banned by perfume industry self-regulatory body IFRA apart from its purified forms, and then in very small concentration.

But couldn't it be reformulated, mot clef du jour, using a purified grade of birch tar? Yes, it might. Sadly, the sales were never substantial enough to justify the trouble and cost of doing so. Eau du Fier, you see, is the most phenolic-smelling, the most tar-like, the most bitumen dripping on beautiful apricot-smelling petals evocative scent in existence.Though an unmissable must-smell and must-own for anyone (man or woman, it's technically marketed to men) who craves a dollop of tarry, leathery, pungent campfire scent in their perfume wardrobe, Eau du Fier isn't exactly a crowd pleaser, nor will it get you Miss Congeniality brownie points, here, in Paris or in the US. Like a song by songster Dionysis Savvopoulos says about Greece, "it forms its own galaxy". But it might get you attention from people who won't immediately connect it to perfume and that attention would be positive.

Fir (fier in French) and birch tar are at the core of Eau du Fier, a smell which concentrated at such a degree is so smoky, so acrid and so idiosyncratic in its intensely phenolic blast that it grabs you by the throat and whips you into attention. Phenolic scents (those containing phenols) are intense, smelling between black soot and barnyard; a horsey leathery pungency that is evident in natural essences of castoreum (a secretion from beavers) , narcissus and of course in birch tar, i.e. literally "cooked" birch wood that produces that famous waterproofing agent that was originally the source of Russian Leathe/Cuir de Russie. It's no coincidence Eau du Fier is like Russian Caravan tea (and Tibetan Lapsang Souchong, much like Bvlgari Black); associations work that way.

The opening of Eau du Fier can be likened to dry and decidedly non-animalic macho images of riders in the plains, cooking on an open campfire, much like in Sonoma Scent Studio Fireside Intense or Lonestar Memories by Tauer. Or a racing pit, hot with the scents of competition and tires melting. Less barnyard and more open-air atmosphere, here with a slice of orange peel to reinforce the resinous-smelling and dry/clean feel. It borders on the divisive smell of rubber with a serving of bitter orange reminiscent of pure frankincense.
But the initial smokiness in Eau du Fier is soon mollified by an apricot note that recalls osmanthus flower, a material with naturally fruity-peachy-lactonic facets. This stage is comparable in feel ~if not smell~ to the smoother, yummier intersection in the just recently discontinued Tea for Two fragrance by L'Artisan Parfumeur (also from 2000): the trick is done with gingerbread in the latter, giving a spicy-gourmand edge to the smoky black tea notes on top. In the Goutal, this fruity stage is pleasantly sweet, contrasting with the introduction and playing hide & seek on the skin with the butcher elements. Daim Blond by Serge Lutens reprises the suede and apricot trick, but whereas there the effect is a spilling off her cleavage alto, here it's a bone-vibrating bass.

Bottom-line: Eau du Fier is probably the most tar-like smell this side of Tauer's Lonestar Memories and an uncharacteristic specimen in the typically airy & prettily feminine Goutal stable. Along with Sables, one of the most original and boldest Annick Goutal fragrances and a thouroughbred that should be featured in any self-respecting collection, even if you only occasionally put it on your skin.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Annick Goutal news & fragrance reviews, Definition: Phenolic, terpenic, camphoraceous smells.

painting Starry Night Over the Rhone  (1888) by Vincent van Gogh

Annick Goutal Sables: fragrance review

Sables flies under the radar amidst the masculine selection chez Annick Goutal, despite the fact that Harrison Ford is supposedly an ardent fan. I guess he's considered "old man" by now and not as hip for a celebrity endorsement. But Sables shouldn't suffer from malrecognition; this is an especially brilliant composition and a unique one at the time of its launch, in 1985. The burnt sugar aspect of helichrysum ~known also as immortelle or everlasting flower~ with its shades of curry, maple syrup and fenugreek aromata make this fragrance one of the most distinctive not only in the Goutal canon, but in general. The onle fragrance more daringly infused with this spicy-caramelic note is Eau Noire in the private line of Dior colognes, composed by Francis Kurkdjian (A scent for which designer Karl Lagerfeld is crazy about!). Asmar by So Oud (launched in 2010) is closer to Sables, although not exactly the same.

Immortelle is an aquired taste for sure. Not everyone feels comfortable smelling like Indian food and helichrysum italicum is called "the curry plant" by some. Still, the initially spicy fenugreek nuances (somewhat mentholated and bitter inky, like in good old Fernet-Branca digestif) in Goutal's Sables are mollified towards the caramelised smoky spectrum; a whiff of pyrazines and malt, for those who appreciate Jeux de Peau by Serge Lutens for instance. The curry note is joined by its conspirator in crime: cumin, with its perceived sweaty aspect, and by a little pepper. Yet one cannot exactly categorise Sables as "dirty", "skanky" or spicy, but rather as smoky sweet and cozy in either winter or summer. In my own personal experience, Sables is a child of the sun and the warmth, and performs best in minute amounts put on the belly or behind the knees in the heat.
Contrary to the standard perception of Goutal scents being ethereal and fleeting, this one is particularly projecting, leaving a memorable trail and lasts very long, so beware of overdosing. It's definitely not intended to be used solely a masculine, although the saltier quota of male skin brings out the herbal and more ambery facets to the fore (much like in Ambre Sultan), while it's sweeter on women. The longer the fragrance stays on warm skin, the more it manifests those burnt sugar notes allied with milky, woody facets of sandalwood without ever becoming cloying. On the whole, Sables's kinship is more with a Lutensian oriental oeuvre, or a more powerful version of Cuir Béluga by Guerlain, than with the Indian dish intensity of Dior's Eau Noire where immortelle contrasts with the medicinal-caramelic ends of spectrum of natural lavender essence projecting a more rustic, rugged edge. 

Sables saw the light of day after a journey in Corsica, imbued with the warm and spicy scent of wild immortelle. This fragrance is dedicated to men and women whose originality and subtlety make them just as they are–-that is, authentic. Annick Goutal created it especially for her husband, Alain, who played the violoncello, as a memento from a trip to the so-called Island of Beauty, where the scent of immortelle-sprinkled sand dunes had captured her mind.

To me Sables will always stand as the olfactory equivalent of a particular beach in Lesbos Island in Greece. It is a volcanic place, all hot springs and absolutely no fish in the water, a deserted sugar-like fine sandy beach near a fossiled forest. The warmth of the sun schorches the tree trunks laying in the background. A moment of eternity has just been mine and I can see the history of the earth in a long gaze...

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Annick Goutal news & reviews, Immortelle: perfumery material, Pyrazines; maple & caramel notes, interview with perfumer Isabelle Doyen

helichrysum flowers pic via stopthatcat

Annick Goutal Mon Parfum Cheri: new fragrance

The upcoming Mon Parfum Chéri par Camille, by Camille Goutal, marks the 30th anniversary of the house of Annick Goutal. The company was founded by Camille's pianist mother Annick and continued after the latter's demise by her daughter Camille to this day. Collaborating for long with perfumer Isabelle Doyen, the style of Annick Goutal fragrances is very French, feminine pretty and yet witty too.

This time, inspired by Colette novels, specifically the Claudine novels, the fragrance promises to encapsulate the mischievous, sensuous and adventurous spirit of the heroine herself. It's odd that Claudine features so highly in the concept, as the mere mention of Chéri in the name (literally "beloved" in French) reminds Colette readers of the cocksure, young and inwardly insecure hero by the same nickname.
Still, the creators reference a throwback to the golden age of Hollywood as well, instilling the creation with a retro glamour, dark red liquid in the classic gold gaudron-capped ribbed bottle in shades of violet, this time the ornamentary tag ribbon taking on a stripped pattern in anthracite.
The new Annick Goutal fragrance Mon Parfum Chéri (i.e. My Beloved Perfume) belongs to the floral woody musky fragrance family and features notes of Indonesian patchouli, powdery notes, violet, iris, heliotrope and sweet prunes. It will be available in Eau de Toilette concentration in 50ml and 100ml and in Eau de Parfum concentration in 100ml. The launch is set to be exclusively at Harrods, London on the 1st of July and world-wide distribution is set for September 2011.

Annick Goutal Le Mimosa: fragrance review

For a lover of mimosa, spoiled on the honeyed powdery facets of Caron's Farnesiana or the cassie-rich musky-animalic meowing of Une Fleur de Cassie (F.Malle), Goutal's take on the yellow pom-pom flowers seems anaemic and watery; too innocent, too puerile, too fleeting... In fact, if you're looking for a "true" mimosa (like the one by L'Artisan Parfumeur Mimosa pour Moi with its violet and milky undercurrent) you will be crestfallen.

The mimosa blossom is a sign of spring hope, nature's awakenings, blooming as it does all bright yellow and proud in the end of winter and decorating the countryside with its shady branches that are carrying hundreds of yellow fluffy little bundles of joy; childlike, optimistic, bursting with energy and sweet smiles. Composed of the absolute of mimosa, a hint of iris, peach and white musks, the Goutal take on this floral scent evokes a delicate and subtle sweetness. (See also Calèche Fleurs de Méditerranée by Hermès for a fine rendition)

The impression of Annick Goutal's Le Mimosa is nevertheless much more of a soft, fuzzy peachy note that overimposes itself over a Johnson's chamomille shampoo and clean orange blossom accord, the latter dominating the heart of the composition. Curiously enough, the (natural) mimosa absolute raw material is there (indeed it shares facets with the above, plus anisic nuances), so this is definitely an aesthetic choice; probably in line with the intended coherence inside the Goutal soliflores line. Perfumer Isabelle Doyen and Camille Goutal (Annick's daughter in charge of the house now) envisioned a soliflore that is ethereal, much like the other soliflores in their line-up (Des Lys, Le Jasmin, Le Cheuvrefeuille etc.). Eau de Charlotte already a good dosage of mimosa as well. They were also thinking of the audience who buy Petite Chérie and Quel Amour by the bucketload, apparently. Clearly I am not among them, preferring the intensity of Passion or Grand Amour, yet I can understand the need to play around a material which is almost emblematic of France and Grasse [Follow my route along the mimosa road on this link]. Le Mimosa is not entirely without merit.

Annick Goutal Le Mimosa is available at Annick Goutal stockists from February 2011 onwards. It was announced as a limited edition. The bottle takes on a polka-dot ribbon in yellow and black for the occasion.

Notes for Annick Goutal Le Mimosa:
bergamot, anise, mimosa absolute, iris, peach, white musk, sandalwood

Painting by Greek painter Knostantinos Parthenis, The Apotheosis of Athanassios Diakos, c.1933

Annick Goutal Songes: fragrance review

There is nothing as captivating the imagination as the promise of what one doesn't have: The lure of tropical paradises amidst the harshest snowfall makes us forget that by summer we will be missing those white flakes and long for taking the cashmere and mohair down from the attic. Songes by Annick Goutal comes with the unctuous step of an intoxicating promise of sunshine and the warmth of a summery golden afternoon, right when winter paves its path onto spring, to make us dream and lose ourselves. Because Songes means exactly...dreams: the dreams of a newlywed, looking on life through the eyes of a girl becoming a woman who embarks on a new adventure in her life; perhaps the more rewarding of them all, the miracle of keeping love alive through it all.


An intense opera of white florals set in a tropical tone climate like "Les Pecheurs des Perles", Songes was inspired by an evening walk in a garden on the exotic island of Mauritius by Camille Goutal, Annick's daughter, while she was on her honeymoon. Camille lovingly collaborated with tried & trusted tenured Goutal perfumer Isabelle Doyen, on the creation of the fragrance in 2006. Interestingly, even though the inspiration is classically exotic-tropical, Camille revealed that the middle and base notes of Songes are also reflecting John William Waterhouse's painting aesthetic, especially as presented in the famous painting of Ophelia. Somehow the two are hard to reconcile and I'm not sure that this Goutal fragrance truly captures the balance, as it tilts more to the former part than the latter. Still, it's quite stunning.

Opening a bottle of Songes I'm struck by its diva-esque mien, all heady, entrance-making material, almost heaving, but also its inherent modesty and classy sensuality; as if the facade is flamboyant because it just can't help it, a bit of a Marilyn Monroe persona if you will: Glamorous but sensitive at heart. Frangipani (with a tiny peachy facet here, less than on the fresh bush) and potent ylang ylang immediately hit my nose, complicated into webs of indolic jasmine, sweet, yet with a slightly bitter element in the background which keeps it from saccharine overload. The frangipani is less fruity than in Ormonde Jayne's rendition of Frangipane Absolute, while the jasmine is the sambac variety which can have an ever higher pitch than the European and Middle Eastern grandiflora variety. There is a tuberose-like effect too, creamy and mollified instead of eucalyptus-green (a la Carnal Flower) or rubbery (a la Gardenia Passion); more like the tropical tiare gardenia than real tuberose. This stage with the small incensey-resinous hint resembles the velours of Noix de Tubereuse and shouldn't have tuberose-phobics all up in arms. The drydown of Songes consists of a woody-ambery accord (with creamier vanilla in the higher concentration) that revolves around pencil shavings and balsamic softeness/soapiness; a very delightful coda to an aria that has been bold and flamboyant as befits a Grand White Floral.


Altghough Annick Goutal fragrances often fall victims to criticism from hard-core aficionados on their scent being light and transparent, resulting in delicate sillage, Songes is one fragrance in the stable (alongside a few others such as Eau de Fier, Sables and Gardénia Passion) which does not follow that rule. In fact the Eau de Parfum version of Songes seems dense and a little opaque, creating an effect that could be considered engulfing for those who are more sensitive to their own scent trail; its vanilla creaminess however should please those who are seeking a sweeter edition of this sultry scent. In Songes Eau de Toilette concentration the proportion of space between the notes creates an aerated effect; like the perfect petit financier bite it has just the right sponginess without detracting from the satisfaction that it leaves on the palate. Both concentrations are especially lasting and sillage monsters, necessitating very steady hands and homeopathetical dosage in order to remain desirable and not cloying.
Over time, Songes can change colour in the bottle: The regular shade is golden-ambery but the inclusion of natural jasmine extracts in the formula conspires to give an orange tint to the Eau de Toilette and even a reddish hue to the Eau de Parfum!
A limited edition bottle in Baccarat crystal is available for Songes, the traditional boule topped by a romantic half moon.

Notes for Annick Goutal Songes:
frangipani, tiare, jasmine, incense, vanilla, copahu balm, pepper, ylang-ylang, vetiver, sandalwood, amber, styrax.

Painting Dreams on the Beach 1934 by Salvador Dali.

Photo of Camille Goutal & Isabelle Doyen by Antoine de Perceval 2007 via Swell City Guide

Annic Goutal roses review: Rose Absolue, Rose Splendide, Quel Amour

Annick Goutal is no stranger to roses: From the retro-smelling rosiness of Ce Soir ou Jamais, to the refined Turkish rose on a powdery base of iris & sandalwood of Heure Exquise, all the way through the fabulous skincare which utilizes rose serum for its caring and skin-regenerating properties, high quality rose essence has a pride of place in the Goutal range, reflecting Annick's passion for the fragrant bloom. The three latest launches come as a trio of limited editions nicknamed Rose So Chic that highlight varying facets of "the king of flowers", the rose, resulting in as many permutations created by perfumer Isabelle Doyen, fit for a different woman or a different mood. Two of them (Rose Absolue and Quel Amour) are lighter interpretations of the existing perfumes in the line, while Rose Spendinde is a new release.

From lightest/fruitiest to "heaviest"/truest they are:

Quel Amour: The impertinence of peonies, the burst of wild rose and geranium rosa, combine with a sharp note of red currants, pomegranates and wine peaches, lending a sense of sweet cravings. Quel Amour smells rather innocent, with a mischievous, sweet tooth (a little whiff of lilac) deriving from a fruity heart and a wine-y, slightly sour note in the aftermath coming from the currants. Basically a berry-rose chord with a zingy, citrusy top note, Quel Amour is romantic the way texting sweet nothings is or settling a little lovers' argument through an apology on your Facebook profile: There is just something about it that appeals to the young and is completely uncomprehensible to the older generations. If searching for a fruity floral to offer to a young one you could do much, much worse elsewhere.

Rose Splendide: Fresh, green and musky, this "eau parfumée" is reminiscent of an early morning walk through gardens sparkling under the new day's dew...A composition based on the delicate, fragile Centifolia Rose, enhanced by the fresh scent of magnolias, musk and a touch of pear, for an incredibly mischevious revelation ! Rose Splendide is presented as the scent of a rose that has not been cut yet, and indeed this continuity between stem and thorn and flower is what keeps me interested. The gorgeous face creams and toners in the Goutal Spendide range have been aromatized for years with a comparable scent (Damascena rose and a bit of blackcurrant) and it was entrancing enough to keep me coming back for more, muffling the siren calls of several other high-end skincare lines. The mysterious underlying muskiness alongside the herbal/leafy touch on top (which reads as cut-grass green) is what seals the deal for me, making Rose Splendide my favourite in this trio of rose fragrances.

Rose Absolue: The quintessence of the noblest roses from the East and West : May, Turkish, Bulgarian, Damask, Egyptian and Moroccan roses. A creative folly for eternal feminity now reinterpreted in an Eau Parfumée. Like an armful of fresh roses, intense in their message, over the top romantic like bowing down on bended knee with the Seine at the background to propose, Rose Absolue is a must-try for anyone in love with roses. The light musk trail at the base notes lends it a whiff of something starting to hint at more intimacy; the love story is beginning to veer off the platonic and into the carnal but it's not quite there yet. The only drawback is the relatively lower staying power.

All three Goutal fragrances in the Rose So Chic collection are circulating as 100ml Eau parfumée spray, under a limited edition presentation of a pink/reddish organza ribbon around the neck under the "turban" cap. They retail for 85$. Annick Goutal will donate 5€ from each purchase of any of three fragrances to AVEC (Association pour La Vie Espoir contre le Cancer) between September 1 and October 31st, 2010, as a commemoration of Annick's battle with cancer.

Annick Goutal Musc Nomade: fragrance review & draw

It wouldn't be an overstatement to claim that Musc Nomade By Annick Goutal is an exceptional piece of perfumery and among musk fragrances it really stands apart, poised between the crossroads of animalic and clean, defined by neither, or -better yet- interpreting both qualities in equal measure to the point you forget about classifications and just revel in its chiaroscuro sensuality. If pressed, I'd say it's a "vegetal musk". And it is.


Musc Nomade (2008) is the fourth addition in the Les Orientalistes line which was introduced with Ambre Fétiche, Myrrhe Ardent and Encens Flamboyant. The inspiration of the scents was said to be the smells of the harem and perfumer Isabelle Doyen masterfully wove in sensuous, denser whiffs in the familiar fabric of gauze that runs through the Goutal brand, thus marrying two antithetical elements: opulence and transparency. Annick Goutal was already enchanted by the sophistication of musc devotees, the Qatar Princesses, who bathed their bodies and hair in a divine blend of musk powder and rose essence, and fragranced their rooms by burning oud wood. She dreamed of capturing the aphrodisiac effect of this material reputed to stir the senses and hold men captivated... Camille Goutal, the next in line after Annick's passing, decided to do an ecological musk and with the help of Isabelle Doyen they defied convention in that they produced a vibrant, lightly "animalic" musk without the use of animal-derived products.

To do that Isabelle Doyen employed Muscone, a very refined -and costly- ingredient which is the odorous principle of natural deer musk, married with the natural macrocyclic musks (see relevant article) present in angelica root (containing 12-methyl-13-tridecanolide and Exaltolide) and ambrette seeds. The artistry lies in manipulating raw materials which are difficult to handle: Angelica root essence is musty, with a note of bitters and the liquid emulsifies in alcohol dilution making the mixture cloudy like a glass of pastis. Nevertheless, Doyen managed to bypass all these problems and the juice is perfectly clear with an aromatic top note that singes the nose hairs most delightfully the way a good gin does, to unfold later on a dirty, pleasantly "skanky" ambience that recalls the smooth fur of Muscs Kublai Khan by Lutens and the cozy sex-on-the-haystack feel of L'Air de Rien by Miller Harris.

Smelling Musc Nomade you're left with the impression that it is topless; in both senses of the word: It feels natural, bien dans sa peau, quite nude, and at the same time like it misses those frills routinely put in to jolt the customer into paying attention. On the contrary, Musc Nomade insinuates like a murmur in the ear late at night or minimalist tunes on harmonics-series instruments. The rosiness (reminiscent of the Lutens floralcy in his own musk oeuvre) is an illusion rendered through the facets of Bombay wood, furling and unfurling thanks to a herbal-sweet note like patchouli. Musc Nomade is individual and defies any familiarity one has of drugstore musks, eschewing the sweet vanilla and sandalwood warmth for the "dirtiness" of labdanum, an almost animalic plant raw material, and for a woody backdrop that is very appealing and fit for both sexes. It can be layered effortlessly under the other Orientalistes scents in the collection or practically under any other fragrance.
Its individual character and unassuming sensuality put it in my top 5 choices for musk fragrances.

For our readers, a draw for a decant of Musc Nomade! Leave a comment to enter. Draw open till Sunday midnight.

Notes for Annick Goutal Musc Nomade:
Muscone, white musk stemming from angelica root and ambrette seed, tonka beans, labdanum, Bombay wood (a papyrus variety)

Musc Nomade circulates in Eau de Parfum concentration in two bottle designs (depicted) with exactly the same scent (same as with all the Orientalistes!): One is the feminine ribbed bottle, the other the sleek rectangular masculine one with gold accents. I personally find the somber lines of the masculine design with the lovely arabesque motifs in the labels more fitting this line of enigmatic scents.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Annick Goutal news & reviews, Scented Musk-eteers: musk fragrances reviews




Clip from the film Il Ventre dell'Architetto by Peter Greenaway, Struggle for pleasure by Wim Mertens.

Annick Goutal Grand Amour: fragrance review

A sexy actress in her boudoir after her performance: Pensive , smiling hazily to herself as she lifts her hair off her forehead and gazes at her image in the mirror. Her most enthousiastic fan has sent her armfulls of liles , bunches of honeysucle and posies of hyacinth to fill the room and her lacy clothes with an initially fresh and sweet fragrance , with a penetrating aroma that becomes deeper and slightly decaying as time passes. The whole concoction is intoxicating somehow, yet it makes her think of him with nostalgia. She thinks she's falling in love... It's a Grand Amour. It has to be!

That had been my impression of this rich floriental, composed by Isabelle Doyen, redolent of heady flowers and a balsamic ambery base when I had tried it for the first time back in 1997 when it launched, on a trip to Austria. I recall that the splendid presentation of the butterfly bottle alongside the dewy flowers in the filigree vases around with their fin de siècle ambience had captured my attention and provoked the above image, which is still firmly with me after all those years. The recollection made me nod my head a little when I read Tania Sanchez in Perfumes,The Guide saying: "[it]has impressive ambitions, combining aloofness and warmth in search of that magical proportion that turns a starlet into a star".

Grand Amour immediately stroke me as a little decadent and "intimate", not as airy as the majority of the Goutals I had hitherto tried, and indeed, alongside firm staples Passion and L'Heure Exquise, most of my favourite Goutals fit into the category that the Goutal people term as "capiteux"; more or less "heady". Inspired as it was by the bouquets that the cellist Alain Meunier presented to Annick during their courtship Grand Amour is officially described as "A perfect balance of carnal flowers, lily, hyacinth, honeysuckle. A hymn of sensuality with notes of amber, musk, myrtle".

The atmosphere of Grand Amour is one of sustained uncertainty, poised as it is between the unctuous base of its resinous orientalia and the grassy, sappy, almost refreshing floral top; honeysuckle first reveals its yellowish, nectarous blossoms, reminding me of the exquisite moment when winter falls into spring, then hyacinth takes reign with its intoxicating pollen-like aroma. Its powdery, dry earthiness is the perfect accompaniment to these first days of spring when the longing to see new bulbs erupting sprouts is so ingrained into the melancholy of a long winter. In several ways (the soap, the powder, the hyacinth) Grand Amour is comparable to Guerlain's classic Chamade from 1969, another head-long dive into romance, yet I do not detect much of the characteristic galbanum and oakmoss of the latter (at least in its vintage form).

The Eau de Toilette highlights more of the romantic, soapy aldehydic hyacinth notes while the Eau de Parfum of Grand Amour is more base-heavy in the incense-like myrrh tonality and allover denser and sultrier. It is also naturally more orange-hued in contrast to the light straw-coloured Eau de Toilette, so don't be alarmed if you come across dark juice, it's not necessarily spoiled. If you really like that sort of effect and are that sort of woman, I guess you need both versions.

Notes for Annick Goutal Grand Amour:
lily, hyacinth, honeysuckle, Turkish rose, jasmine, French mimosa, amber, vanilla, myrrh.

Grand Amour by Annick Goutal is available as Eau de Toilette (30-50-100ml) and Eau de Parfum (50ml, 100ml) in the classic gadroon bottles and in a red butterfly bottle at boutiques carrying the Goutal line and several online venues. Check Lianne Tio's Nederthelands boutique on this link as well.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Annick Goutal news & reviews, Interview with perfumer Isabelle Doyen

Photo of Hanna Schygulla via Fromn Blank to Blank. Photo of Annick Goutal bottles rested atop Edouard Vuillard 's painting The Dress with Foliage by Elena Vosnaki

Annick Goutal Passion: fragrance review

All Annick Goutal perfumes have little stories behind them which adds to the enchanting, small scale appeal they have: Passion was the first fragrance which Annick Goutal created along with perfumer Isabelle Doyen in 1983 for her own use. The second one, inspired by the floral bouquets her husband offered her while courting, was Grand Amour; also a firm favourite of Perfume Shrine and to be tackled later on. Sables was made for Alain, Annick's husband, while Eau de Charlotte and Eau de Camille celebrate her daughters' childhood memories.

Passion dazzles amongst them with its headiness, its perceptible sillage and its great lasting power, "like a flower with translucent antennae and a mauve plastic heart.” Complicated, chewy, cruel, yet beautiful, like life itself, Passion made Tania Sanchez reserve one of her more poetic reviews of it in Perfumes,The Guide: "It feeks humid, narcotic, unsettling, like a moonless July night without a breeze". It could be one of those nights about which Raymond Chandler wrote: "Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks."

The artistry of course lies in how to manipulate the (excellent) materials: The exotic Ylang-Ylang has facets of banana and even coconut; sweet, buttery, creamy, almost bulemic. On its other end though it encompasses methyl salicylate which recalls wintergreens. Tuberose has facets of camphor which act as a counterbalance of its intense white floral sweetness. Pair them with a bitter green touch which supports the already present caphoraceous scheme (tomato vine leaves, the same as used in Eau de Campagne by Sisley and Folavril again by Goutal, plus oakmoss) and some vanilla to offset the "fruitiness" of the bouquet and you've got something unique!
Passion starts with a heady caphoraceous blast of what can only be sensed as vibrant tropical florals snowballing a cadenza of sweet and green notes that unify to the point where you don't know where the garden ends and the woman starts. There is something very ladylike about Annick Goutal fragrances, yet in classic French tradition the lady in question can forget all about ladylike manners in the bedroom. Passion is carnal, yet delicate and fragile at the same time, like a 22-year-old ready to be consumed by love. And even older ones...

Notes for Annick Goutal Passion: Jasmine, tuberose, ylang-ylang, vanilla, tomato leaves, patchouli, oakmoss.

Passion by Annick Goutal is available as Eau de Toilette (100ml) and Eau de Parfum (50ml, 100ml) in boutiques carrying the Goutal line and several online venues. Check Lianne Tio's Nederthelands boutique on this link as well.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Annick Goutal news & reviews, Interview with perfumer Isabelle Doyen

Photo from the film Betty Blue, 37.2°C le Matin via livejournal/Ohnotheydidn't. Photo of bottle of Passion by Elena Vosnaki.

Interview with a perfumer: Isabelle Doyen of parfums Annick Goutal

Over the past few weeks I reviewed perfumes of one of my favourite perfumers, Isabelle Doyen, the resident nose behind the Annick Goutal brand ~whose Un Matin d’Orage is breaking new territories in the ozonic white floral genre~ and the perfumer responsible for four of the uber-niche Les Nez fragrances: Let me play the Lion, The Unicorn Spell, L’Antimatiere and the quite individual Turtle Vetiver (exercise1). Her unique style of pairing neoclassical compositions with a decisive and confident approach of broad strokes on her canvas had always impressed me with its conviction and resulting grace. Conducting an inteview with her filled me with excitement, but also trepidation ~wondering if I could put my feelings and questions into words, especially given the language trascriptions~ and I can’t begin to describe how happy I am to share it with you today on Perfume Shrine! Isabelle is a very giving person, who stroke me as especially attuned to the feelings and ideas of those around her and she can also have a wry sense of humour, which made me appreciate her work all the more for it.
PerfumeShrine: Isabelle, you are the daughter of a meteorolist, who spent time as a child in the South Pacific. How did you childhood and past shape you into the perfumer that you are?

Isabelle Doyen: Of course childhood has a great importance in my work as is the case for everyone I believe. Tahiti has been influencing me very much: My familiar memory of flower smells are those of Tiaré, Ylang Ylang, Frangipani; the smell of wild fires in the evening in the hills around our house, the taste of Mangos coming back from the beach,drunk with sun and the lagoon on Sunday evenings, the monoi perfume of the Tahitian women at the church ....But very soon in my childhood poetry became important: I had to learn by heart the "Dormeur du Val" (The Sleeper in the Valley), a poem by Rimbaud, when i was 8 years old and he was mentioning that young solder lying beside a little river, his feet in "Glaieuls flowers"; I thought "Why did he choose those flowers, they are ugly and they have no perfume!”

PS: It’s a magnificent poem, indeed, although I don’t have an answer about his choice either!
You have been composing fragrances for Annick Goutal for years. There is a very discernable aesthetic to the brand which I respect: gauzy, transparent and graceful. How much of it is Goutal's vision and how much of it is yours?

ID: We had a great advantage with Annick, it was that we knew we were "smelling" the same way, the same thing, we were on the same wavelength and wanted to go to the same place. So I really think that the perfumes we made together come from the same vision of that world we had and it continues with her daughter Camille the same way.

PS: In what aspects is the relationship among you and Camille Goutal different than the one you had with Annick, as related to the work produced? I find it endearing that you have both kept Annick's custom-made Organ*!

ID: I didn't wonder a minute if it would be the same thing as with her mother: we know we are looknig in the same direction! At my age I am exactly in-between Camille and Annick. Maybe Annick had a more “classical” education especially in music {she was a trained classical pianist} .Camille and I are listening to the same kind of music, we can work while listening to it, something we didn't do with Annick! Apart from that we work the same way: Camille learned how to set a formula by watching me attentively.The Organ we work with is very important to us, it is a little bit like the blanket or teddy bear that little children need to keep with them.This makes us feel secure in a way and especially when we see the little bottles that are hand-writtenwith Annick's hand-writting.

PS: Wearing the latest Goutal scents in the Les Orientalistes line (Ambre Fetiche, Myrrhe Ardente, Encens Flamboyant, Musc Nomade) I find that they inject a neoclassical style into what is essentially a “thick” school of perfumery: the oriental tradition.
I personally found them very pleasing to various degrees, but the criticism I have heard about them is that while they are out of sync with the previous Goutal style, they are also too “thin” to be convincing Orientals. (People perhaps forget Sables, Eau du Fier, or even Songes and Grand Amour in the Goutal line). What do you respond to that? I have also heard they’re meant to be layered (one on top of the other). Is this true and would you recommend it or not?

IS: Concerning Les Orientalistes, maybe we haven't been so intellectual about them! The very sperm of the idea was the three holly kings, the orientalist school of paintings that we like very much and the fact that we wanted to work on those ancient and beatiful raw materials; especially when we knew that to get Myrrhe and Frankincense people need to wound the bark of those trees, which are the only things growing in those arid parts. Then the resin drops gathered are called “tears”, so this idea of wounds and tears is very beautifull and melancholic. Besides it is the only chance for people living there to get a little money for living.
Regarding their classification, they are called orientalists but i don't think they fit in the heavy oriental perfumery family; they are more like woody, spicy, ambery…
It is the same with every perfume we create: it may be important to know that we never ask ourselves "Are we in the right Goutal direction, would Annick create this type of perfume?"We create going on our instinct, as we did with Annick anyway.
For Les Orientalistes, we don't recommend layering one another, this is something we usually don't like, but in this case we noticed just that they harmonised quite well between themselves, maybe because they all are of the same kind.PS: On that point, how do you feel about the materials’ restrictions as posed by IFRA guidelines and the EU law-frame? Everyone has heard about oakmoss (some classic chypres are not the same any more), coumarin and birch tar and many know about bergaptene and citrus oils being heavily restricted. I hear eugenol, as well as frankincense, are next to get axed. How can a skilled perfumer bypass such obstacles?

ID: Maybe soon we won't have so many ingredients left to build formulae so maybe we should convert ourselves into neurologists and study the place in the brain that reacts to the stimuli of jasmine smell! Then all we would have to do would be to find how to artificially stimulate this place and then the person would smell jasmine without anything under the nose!
I personally think Monsanto is a much bigger danger for health than frankincense!

PS: How is your work for Les Nez different than the one for Annick Goutal brand? Obviously Les Nez has much more limited distribution, while Goutal is owned by a large American group, yet your style is discernible in both. This brings me to the question of how much is a perfumer ~you specifically~ restrained by a "brief"?

ID: For me Lesnez is a wonderfull place of experimentation. René is absolutely respectful and humble in front of the work of the perfumer and also is always ready for strange adventures such as Vetiver Turtle for exemple, so it is fantastic! In any case with René or Goutal we never work with a "brief", we choose to work on what we want according to our feelings. For us the only "test" we are listening to is when we wear a perfume we are working on and two people in the same day exclaim "Oh, you smell so good! What is it?"

PS: Vetiver Turtle is a perfume project and it has impressed me that you want to constantly change the formula. The first "exercise" I sampled seems quite earthy and very true to the essence of vetiver to me. The name is quite intriguing for a vetiver fragrance, as the word "tortue" brings to mind turtles of course, their green colours, their proximity to the earth, their longevity....all those things which materialise in the fragrance. But in French it reminds me of "faire la tortue", that is the Roman defensive alignement; and also the Greek writer Aeschylus who allegedly got hit on the head by a turtle (trying to escape his destiny/wife, according to writers Pliny and Valerius Maximus). How do you feel about a fragrance writer pondering and writing about associations to a perfume's name? Is there so much thought given behind the onomastics of perfumes or are we overanalysing?

ID: About the name of this specific perfume, there is nothing complicated behind it except that we wanted "turtle" to be in the name (because of the Turtle Salon project) while the idea of “perfume in progress” and “outlaw” is exactly representing turtle too: something that has no definitive frontiers or established limits.

PS: Vetiver Turtle is tied to the Turtle Salon which is an artist's project. I feel that there is some personal history attached to it, reading about the poet's stay at the Switzerland clinic, your visit and this:"shared their work with Margarethe and a few patients, especially Cédric Schatzl who cannot smell" So how does the fragrance connect those aspects, what's the story? Is it a means of therapy through the senses, through art?

ID: It is difficult to explain "turtle "in few lines. Turtle was initiated by Michael Shamberg ,a film maker. He says, as you yourself felt in your own review, that for him it is a kind of therapy through art to recover his health, and for all the people approching, a territory of kindness that links human beings through poetry. In that "territory" there is no stress of dead lines or profit, but only the idea of sharing, of contributing to make peolpe meet and build more poetry with their own talent. Michael called that Turtle in reference to that place in Lebanon where Sea turtles, almost extinct, could come and find peace to live in the middle of a world disturbed by war. So Michael identified this place to poetry which will be the territory that will make him win his hard internal war (he had a huge health problem, his brain had been attacked by a virus and he almost died but finally survived with big physical outwards and inwardsscars). No one seeing him can stay insensitive to his kindness and his generosity, so I wanted to contribute myself to his battle for life and the only thing I know how to make is perfume, so I decided to create a scent that would follow his road of rehabilitation…and hopefully would bring him some money to constructively help.So Turtle is a story that’s just beginning...

PS: You have composed a perfume for Jeanne of Cecile & Jeanne, costume jeweler brand, called Eliel and I know you have created Le Baron Perché (after Italo Calvin’s novel) for your sculptor friend Catherine Willis. Please tell us a little bit about them!

ID: Regarding the Cecile & Jeanne perfume, it came about also as a result of meeting a wonderful person: Jeanne. And I think the perfume reflects what she appeared to me: delicate,colourful, happy, glimmering, tender, very feminine.
About Catherine Willis, I've known her for a long time and when she came for a scent with the idea of Le Baron Perché she knew exactly what she wanted, so I just had to set the formula under her direction.

PS: Literature obviously is an inspiration! I loved the reference to “Midsummer Night’s Dream” in Let me play the Lion. Christophe Laudamier had been playing with the various scent images of Suskind’s novel “Das Parfum” for years before formally collaborating on the Thierry Mugler coffret to accompany the movie “Perfume, story of a murderer”. Do you perfumers have some secret library of a plethora of scent “snapshots”?

ID: Ha! A secret library of scent snapshots…If we’re talking about me, I have many little notebooks in which all kinds of descriptions of all kinds of things are kept and am using them to build my formulae and I hope quite soon to build something unusual.

PS: I have read how you admire Reminiscence Patchouli (and I adore it as well!), Mousse de Saxe, Prunol and Tobacco Iso**. Usually the things we love have some influence in our work. Do you find yourself loyal to the above axiom?

ID: I consider the De Laire bases such as Mousse de Saxe, Prunol as masterpieces so of course they can sometimes inspire me or yet again I can use them directly.

PS: Apart from a "nez", you're also a teacher at ISIPCA. What does your teaching position entail and do you feel that young, aspiring perfumers have new things to offer to the world of perfumery? Surely there is no parthenogenesis in art, but do you ever feel that everything has been already done with so many new perfumes out, so unless there is some technological innovation things are bound to repeat themselves?

ID: I am absolutely convinced that there are always new things to offer, also new ways to offer things,and the base to succeed in accomplishing that is to stay open, full of curiosity and always wanting to learn and exchange with other creators.

PS: You're a mother of two (a boy and a girl) and I had fun hearing Emilie say that iris fragrances smell "like grandmother" to her. Do you believe there are some smells that are inherently/universally tied to specific images/impressions (ie. vanilla standing for comfort or iris for melancholy) or is it only a factor of personal associations and memories?

ID: Well, I don't think there are universal smells right now, but mostly smells are linked to our culture which denotes a certain country, a certain way of life. Maybe because of the growing connections between countries some smells will become universal.I think Coca Cola is a universal taste, so maybe a smell too?

PS: There has been a big “explosion” of perfume writing lately, especially since the latest publications in English. What is your opinion about fragrance writing in the press and on the Net, especially in relation to taking perfumery as an art form and in shaping the niche/mainstream market? Is it flattering to be acknowledged/ frustrating to be critiqued?

ID: I think it is generally interesting to read what is written about the perfumes we make! I realised that it’s a way to know if I succeeded in setting my idea properly.


Sincere and heartfelt thanks to Isabelle Doyen for taking the time to share a bit of her brilliant talent and nose with us, perfume aficionados, on Perfume Shrine.

You can support the Turtle Salon cause here.
Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Interviews with perfumers, Les Nez scents, A.Goutal scents.

*Organ is the perfumer's "bureau" with essences classified according to volatility and family, named thus because it resembles the musical organ with many "levels" of pipes, keys and pedals. You can see Isabelle's one enlarged by clicking the picture and peruse the rare Lalique flacons, the Arpege and Ricci ones and the butterfly Goutal bottles.
**Those are "bases" by the famous aroma-producing company De Laire, ie. ready-made accords that give a specific impression for perfumers to use when they need to inject a specific idea.

Pic of Isabelle Doyen on her Organ, copyright Annick Goutal & Perfumeshrine.