Indole & Jasmine: Indolic vs. Non-Indolic or Dirty vs.Clean

Say the word jasmine among perfume circles and expect to see the characterisation of indolic being brandished a lot at no time. Expect to see upturned noses with "indolic" mentioned alongside "fecal" in the same breath. Is jasmine a "dirty" word? Who potty-trained it? These thoughts evolved in our mind as we re-examined the troubled relationship of perfume lovers to the perfumery "king of flowers", especially now that the weather is warm and jasmine vines are flowering like mad; and so decided to take things at the top.

Indole is often used as the scapegoat for "stinky" smells, but the truth is somewhat different. Originally indole is a portmanteau of the words "indigo" and "oleum", because the chemical substance named indole was first isolated by treatment of the indigo dye with oleum (oil), thus giving rise to indole chemistry.
Indole is an aromatic heterocyclic organic compound which contains a six-membered benzene ring fused to a five-membered nitrogen-containing pyrrole ring (don't worry if you're not great at chemistry, it will all make sense in a second); thus compounds which contain an "indole ring" (sequence of molecules) are accordingly named "indoles".  

What does this mean? It smells "weird". But not necessarily of feces or poop, contrary to common knowledge! Organic chemistry on the whole isn't averse to naming names quite literally, especially when it comes to foul-smelling components: Hence we have cadaverine (for cadaver smell), putrescine (for the stench of garbage), skatole (from the Greek σκατό, litterally meaning shit), or butyric acid (the smell of rancid butter from the Greek βούτυρο/butter). No, the nomenclature of organic chemistry is pretty much to the point, which would pose serious doubts as to why leave such an appropriate scent out there with no fitting baptism!

The answer is simple: Pure indole, the one which is indeed present in feces and also in small part present in white flowers (such as jasmine, gardenia, tuberose and orange blossom; but also in honeysuckle and lilac, technically non white) doesn't really smell of poop in isolation. The white crystals of indole (mainly derived from coal tar) contribute to the effect, in tandem with other things (surely both feces and flowers contain myriads of molecules) but not in seperation so much. Isolated indole has a musty, weird moth-ball smell that is a little stale, reminiscent of decay, like something has gone off and you can't really pinpoint what it is. In presence of humidity and musky compounds it can become a little much, reminiscent of the ambience of a...toilet. In a way an "Eros & Thanatos" concept.
It's interesting to note that a common derivative is the amino acid tryptophan, calming neurotransmiter serotonin's percursor and an essential amino acid in the human diet. (It's isolated in caseine which is found in dairy products, but also in chocolate, oats, poultry, pumpking seeds, peanuts, spirulina and several others. Makes seeing food in a whole different way!).

But should the smell direct us into seperating white floral and jasmine fragrances into naturally-derived or not? In short, does an indolic scent indicate we're dealing with a fragrance containing natural jasmine? The answer isn't as easy as all that. It's true that natural jasmine essence, as used in the perfume industry, is dark and narcotic, containing about 2.5% of pure indole. This often gives a "full", lush and intimate ~some say naughty~ effect in the finished compound, making the jasmine "sexier" or "animalic" as described by perfume enthusiasts (the naughty effect is more due to paracresol, reminiscent of horses' smell). Try Serge Lutens' A la Nuit, also his Sarrasins (a different treatment of intimate) or Montale Jasmine Full, and you know what I am talking about. Olene by Diptyque is another one which has a dubious intimate ambience (described by someone as "one bad mama jama of a jasmine"), as does the extrait version of Joy by Jean Patou, sublimated in rosy and musky tones as well, and the heart of Bal a Versailles (flanked by naughty civet). Also try Bruno Acampora Jasmin. However you don't necessarily have to tread on jasmine to get copious amounts of indole either: Try a carnation scent as well: Carthusia Fiori di Capri. It can make walking in the park where dog owners routinely walk their dogs a completely novel experience in perception!

Nevertheless, the picking up of a poopy smell can't be a compass into actual composition after all: The natural oil requires the processing of tons of flowers raising the cost to 10,000$ per kilo of essence, while it would be perfectly easy to add seperate indole to synthetic substitutes in order to produce a compound that would be closed in value to 10$ per kilo. The difference in pricing is staggering, which explains why natural jasmine oil is today only used in minute amounts in specific extrait de parfum formulae and only there; the rest is mythos and marketing communication of the brands.

But not all jasmine fragrances need to be indolic either. Try the non-indolic Armani Sensi and Sensi White Notes. Also get a feel for Jasmine White Moss by E.Lauder or Voile de Jasmine by Bulgari. Nothing "dirty" about them whatsoever!
To construct a light, virginal jasmine without indole, the perfumer has several synthetic options (assuming they're not involved in the masochistic effort of taking the natural and getting it fractioned in order to remove the indole). Hedione in copious amounts is the first choice, as it reproduces a greener, dewier version in contrast to the natural jasmine absolute. It's combination (in elevated ratio within the "jasmine base" thus created) with benzyl acetate, benzyl salicylate (for diffusion and tenacity), alpha amyl cinnamaldehyde and linalool produces the desired effect. These jasmine fragrances are easy to wear, lighter in feel, less heady and do not pose the problem of reminding people of impolite (even if necessary) human functions.
The choice between heaven and hell, as they say, is yours!

 If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:

• Definition: Lactonic, Creamy, Milky, Butyric
• Definition: Powdery & Dry in Fragrances
• Definition: Resinous & Balsamic
• Definition: Soapy in Fragrances
• Definition: Phenolic, Terpenic, Camphorous
• Definition: Which Material Produces Which Note/Effect?

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The Jasmine Series, Raw Aroma Materials of Perfumery

photos by Horst P.Horst in collaboration with Dali and Lisa with Harp.

Sarrasins by Serge Lutens: perfume review

~by guest writer Carmencanada

It is rumoured that soon Serge Lutens will relinquinsh the aromatic business and focus on his makeup line, hence the title of the review. Enjoy!


OVERTURE TO A SWANSONG

A la Nuit, launched in 2000, seemed so definitive a rendition that it was described on the Makeup Alley forum by Tania Sanchez (co-author, with Luca Turin, of a perfume guide to be published in 2008), as “death by jasmine”? It would seem as though Lutens had an afterthought about the way in which this headiest of the heady white flower notes could be treated. And why not? If it weren’t for the simultaneous release of Louve in the export line, itself a tamer reworking of the non-export 1998 Rahät Loukhoum, the issue of Lutens’s inspiration, now that his partner-in-composition Christopher Sheldrake has gone on to assist Jacques Polge at Chanel, wouldn’t be so worrisome. But, though Sheldrake is said to be pursuing his work with Lutens, there seems to be something seriously amiss in this pioneering, uncompromising, profoundly idiosyncratic house.

Sarrasins is quite a lovely scent, actually. First word on it alluded to a more saturated version of The Different Company’s Jasmin de Nuit, a spice-laced, transparent jasmine with notes of cardamom, star anise and cinnamon. And that seemed like a logical step for Lutens: to wed the soliflore to the spices he has been exploring in his recent, export-line Chypre Rouge and Rousse, as well as in the non-export Mandarine Mandarin.

But spices are never more than alluded to – the sweaty pong of cumin, perhaps, or the cold-hot burst of cardamom, clutched to death in jasmine’s cloying embrace. Sarrasins is essentially a big jasmine embellished by animalic notes – this is how the Lutens sales assistants characterize it when asked in which way it differs from A la Nuit. An extremely tantalizing, Dzing-like, dirty-salty whiff of the feline – civet, said the SA when I mentioned it – creeps out after a few minutes on the skin. Some ten minutes later, it is joined by musk, both the softer version developed in Clair de Musc and the skankier one that made the barbaric, iconic Muscs Kublaï Khan the king of the animal fragrances. But this hint of the feral never goes beyond the whiff; jasmine’s indolic leanings towards the shithouse, which should be exasperated by the claimed adjunction of a civet-like compound, are never assuaged. The big cat is shooed out by a note that could only be described as slightly petrol-like – characteristic of jasmine-saturated compositions like Joy – and that could be the “ink” note alluded to in the press release. The deep purple tint of the juice itself, perhaps a tribute to Arabic calligraphy, emphasizes the reference. But it doesn’t seem quite enough to do to jasmine what the ground-breaking Tubéreuse Criminelle did for its namesake flower: snatch the camphor-menthol notes of the tuberose absolute and push them to the fore in a jarringly seductive assault on the nose. The very knowledgeable perfume historian Octavian Sever Coifan, in his 1000 fragrances blog, states that he distinctly recognizes the same “very nice jasmine base” in Sarrasins than in other recent launches.

Granted, not all of the Lutens-Sheldrake compositions have been shockers: Fleurs de Citronnier, Clair de Musc, Santal Blanc, Daim Blond, to name a few, all conceived for the more commercial export line, are fairly tame, unlike the Palais-Royal exclusives and their flamboyant baroque style. The principle of Lutens’s most spectacular achievements was to exacerbate a note’s characteristics – the camphor in tuberose, the cold earthiness of iris, the dustiness of patchouli, the bitterness of oak, the piss-like ammonia of honey – until they nearly toppled over into ugliness. The Lutens wear you, rather than you wear them. They exist entirely on their own terms: like the mythical palace he is said to be eternally embellishing in Marrakech, and which almost no-one has seen (or had seen the last time I was in Morocco), they exude solipcistic aloofness. Olfactory exercises in the re-creation of a vanished Oriental realm, they are cruel genies in a bottle, hard to conquer – as American aficionados have long and bitterly complained of – and not rewarding to all.

Now it seems that Lutens, retreating further into the rarefied atmosphere of this realm, is unable to send his stately decrees all the way to the Palais-Royal. They reach us muffled, like afterthoughts – Gris Clair of Encens et Lavande, Louve of Rahät Loukhoum and now, in a puzzling reversal of the export/exclusive interplay, Sarrasins of A la Nuit...

Perhaps Serge Lutens feels that he has said all he had to say in his “chemical poems” (to quote Luca Turin’s beautiful expression). Perhaps the rumours are true, and he will soon conclude his masterful opus. Let’s just hope that his swansong is more definitive than the delicious, but not irreplaceable Sarrasins.

Pic of calligraphy by Iranian artist Hassan Massoudy with the caption "Don't spend two words if one is sufficient for you." (Arab proverb). It comes from perso.orange.fr

Jasmine series: part 5 ~fresh jasmine suggestions

After a hopefully in depth exploration of richer and heavier jasmine fragrances, it's time to concentrate on some that are airier and more transparent, fit for those days when fragrancing oneself should seem like a breeze and not a serious seduction mission. They also lend themselves well to hot climates and soaring temperatures, if you happen to live in those conditions take note. Very often hedione or cis-jasmone (which has an almost anise or liquorice smell by itself) is used to render the illusion of smelling a live jasmine vine.

In this exploration Blush by Marc Jacobs is the first to come in mind, like a gauze of light salmon/peach , reflecting the skin like tones of the opalescent bottle and evoking a similar mood. The reality of the flower is synthesized in a lab, but the result is akin to smelling the vine from a distance on a warm evening with a citrusy top note like that from a nearby citrus tree. It has a dewiness (frankly much better than that in Jacob's eponymous scent centered on gardenia) and a translucence that usually lends itself to an instant likeability by lots of people and it can be worn on many occassions effortlessly. Of course the development is not the mercurial beast one would hope for, rather it progresses linearly, as we say in perfume-speak; meaning it does not change much on its stay on the skin ending on the predictable white musks of most commercial perfumery offerings. In the Intense version the flower elements have been amplified and the sillage/trail left behind is more intense, however I find that some of the loveliness of the original is lost, like watercolours of a painting of a flower bouquet that is copied in pastels; somehow the airiness is forever gone.

Another fresh soliflore jasmine is Annick Goutal Le Jasmin. The Goutal line of scents has a rich lineage in fragrances that smell fresh, true, crystalline and transparent in the best possible sense. They project a youthful approach even when they are more mature smelling and they are based on good ingredients that are steeped in the natural cornucopia of aromas. In that vein, the brand under the proficient baguette of Isabelle Doyen has produced a range of limited edition soliflores, based on the most precious and loveliest blossoms imaginable: Des Lys (lilies), La Violette, Le Cheuvrefeuille (honeysuckle), Le Jasmin, Le Muguet(lily of the valley) and the latest - this year's Néroli. They all merit their own space and we will return to them on subsequent series, however Le Jasmin is highlighted today because of its green tonality and sheer prettiness that makes for a very worthy acquisition in the pantheon of soliflore jasmines. The addition of waxy magnolia petals is an inspired choice along with a slightly spicy note that official info tells us it's ginger. I do not have an affinity for strong ginger notes in perfumes, so this is rather subdued to my nose, because I do like the effect quite a bit. The main drawback is that it being an eau de toilette and a light fragrance by nature, it somehow falls a little flat pretty soon and the lasting power is not the greatest. Since it is so lovable however I could imagine it being refreshed all day long with no problems.

Another crowd pleaser seems to be Pink Jasmine by Fresh. Well, Fresh their brand name is and "fresh" aromas is what they usually produce. To be totally honest I haven't been too impressed with their line in the past, apart from the very likable apothecary bottles with the cute "handwritten" style labels and the long necks with the matte silver sprayer. From their lineup I had liked the watery ambiance of Cucumber Baie (an unlikely combination that nevertheless managed to smell nice), Violet Moss with its earthy dusty smell and their Patchouli Pure which was cuddly and deep. Their Sugar versions (Sugar, Lemon Sugar, Sugar Blossom, Lychee Sugar) were too sweet and lamentably artificial to my nose; so my exploration of the line pretty much ended with last year's rather unique Memoirs of a Geisha which was nice but not enough attention-grabbing for me.
Pink Jasmine is quite new and it takes a soft approach that is not too sweet managing to inject a clean and shower fresh element with peony and magnolia bowls of petals; despite the initial impression upon first spray ~which might fool you into a false sense of an intense citrusy sharp floral. It lasts well with an aqueous impression similar to En Passant, but perhaps it is a little pricey for what you ultimately get.

For Sylvia Chantecaille, there are two roads she could go by and she chose the less travelled by...or perhaps not. Actually she chose both in a way. The heavier, more tropical one with her Frangipane and the lighter, airier with Le Jasmin by Chantecaille. Since today we're concentrating on the more crystal-like florals centered on jasmine, it seems a propos to discuss the latter's merits and shortcomings.
To its advantage it has a refreshing lightness and greenery freshness aplenty which can never be blamed for producing a headache; the inclusion of other floral notes, notably a little bit of tuberose are subdued enough to not project over the jasmine solo. However there is a touch of lily-like artificiality (which regrettably seems inherent in the lighter end of the jasmine spectrum, due to the very nature of the production methods) and the lasting power as it exits on a slight oakmoss and amber note is not tremendously satisfying either, which is a pity for the price.

In the noble stable of Bulgari only thoroughbreds are kept, so it made an impression on me that one of the versions of their venerable Bulgari pour femme, namely Voile de Jasmin fell short of my expectations that had been raised by their other version Rose Essentielle ; which has been excellent. Alas, Voile de Jasmin does not make any ripples in the pond of jasmine scents and it doesn't particularly smell of jasmine petals either. It just makes the initial composition of Pour Femme a little more soapy clean and lighter which is not really what I call progress. Stick to their Rose essentielle version if you really want your Bulgari fragrance floral.

Miller Harris came out with Jasmine Vert for her private exclusive line in her London boutique and I have to say that her translucent compositions usually use good ingredients that smell true. This is no exception and although there has to be some chemical tampering with the notes, the result is not at all artificial. The freshness is real, tangible and quite alluring like in her Fleur du Matin fragrance which marries honeysuckle to champagne-like citrusy notes for a refreshing day fragrance similar to the feeling of Cristalle. In the fragrance at hand, Jasmin Vert , if we are to continue the Chanel parable, it is greener in the vein of Chanel no.19 or Gardenia (constructed around jasmine despite the name), albeit very short on the complexity and depth, especially compared to those of the former.
However for a warm summer day when you want to let your hair down and just revel in the brightness of it all it is appropriately fitting.

L'artisan Parfumeur is famous for the limpid, light, diaphanous composition of their scents and alongside their heavier, intense La Haie Fleuri they have also produced the lovelingly ethereal Thé pour un été (=tea for summer). As its name suggests it's based on jasmine tea more than jasmine petals themselves the way florals are and along with lemony overtones it forms a decaffeinated sipping brew that can be likened to Bulgari's Eau Parfumée or a fresh Eau Sauvage that can also be worn by both sexes. Light, fleeting and not so ephemeral any more -as the brand decided to include it in their mainstay line after a stint as a limited summer edition following its success at the counter- it is meant to be used with abandon, chilled in the fridge for the hot days of summer ahead. Indulge!

OTHER HONOURABLE MENTIONS:
Due to lack of space or inability to categorise them in a specific pigeon-hole the following scents are simply mentioned as noteworthy along a jasminophile's expedition in the pursuit of jasmine-rich fragrances.
Those include the clear cut Jasmal by Creed, the simultaneously fresh and animalic paradox Night blooming Jasmine by Floris, the misnomer that is Chanel Gardenia, the happiness of youth that is represented in the tuberosy La chasse aux papillons(=chassing butterflies) by L'artisan (in the Eau de toilette concentration), the worthy limited edition of Givenchy Millesime Harvest Jasmine of India 2005 and the new exclusive by Armani éclat de Jasmin.
Perhaps a subsequent visit to all of those is in order, of which you will be notified in due course. For the time being our jasmine pilgrimage ends here. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.



Artwork:
Top "Girl" by greek painter Nicolaos Gyzis courtesy of Wikipedia and bottom "Reflecting" by Steve Hanks courtesy of allposters.com

Jasmine series: part 4 ~mellow jasmine suggestions

The fact that jasmine may take on a more sinister turn accounting for fecal undertones that leave many people with apprehension and dismay does not mean that jasmine fragrances have to espouse that aspect. It is perfectly possible to evoke a balanced approach which could project a soft, mellow and elegant disposition and could be more easily wearable for even the non die-hard jasmine fans. To this end today we are examining some suggestions that might fall into that category of mellow jasmine compositions.
The archetypal example of a smooth, beautiful jasmine that could be worn sufficiently well without evoking particularly dark tendencies is the perennial Joy by Jean Patou. It remains something of an icon in the status of luxe perfumery, partly due to its initial advertising campaign in the economically hard year of 1930, coined by Elsa Maxwell (“the costliest perfume in the world”) and partly due to its unparalleled standards of raw materials. Patou went to great lengths to assure us that 1 ounce of Joy demands 10600 jasmine blooms and 28 dozen roses to be produced. This would be not as impressive hadn’t those flowers been the venerable jasminum grandiflorum of Grasse in the south of France and the two crown glories of Damascene rose from Bulgaria and Rose de Mai (rosa centifolia) again from Grasse. The current nose for Patou since 1997, Jean Michel Duriez, is monitoring the fields and crops to ascertain that the end result rendered out of those two varieties meets the quality control criteria demanded by the house of Patou.

Whether the quality has gone downhill as with most commercial perfumes of today in comparison to the vintage is a matter of dire attention and discussion on several fora.
Some people have expressed a concern that the richness of the floral ingredients has been a tad jeopardized, however for what is worth Luca Turin insists that the quality of the end perfume remains unchanged and his info and sample batch comes staight from Patou headquarters. Since I do not have different batches of Joy to compare and contrast, because my bottles come from the mid-90s, I cannot speak with authority on the matter. The testing I have contacted in stores in different concentrations and places did not leave me with serious doubt as to the up keeping of the formula, however I repeat that I could not possibly ascertain this beyond any doubt since I do not have comparable material at hand from different eras; on top of that ascertaining when a particular bottle was actually produced is so very hard, since perfumers -unlike wine producers- do not label the production year on the bottle (which would make our life so much easier, had it been the case!).

In any case, Joy unfolds majestic proportions of floral grandeur with a nobility and restraint of hand that points to a very skilled perfumer indeed: Henri Alméras. Keeping the noble nature of the two focal points of the suite intact he garlanded them with the merest touch of honeysuckle, ylang ylang and tuberose, anchored by a very light sandalwood base which manages to smell opulent yet beautifully balanced.
It is my impression that there is a difference of emphasis on the two different concentrations of eau de toilette and eau de parfum. The former is characterized by a more pronounced jasmine intonation like a solo aria in the midst of a lively Mozart opera, while the latter is a bit more powdery with accents of rosiness that permeate the whole with a softness that resembles a Schumman lullaby. In fact the Eau de Parfum is repackaged Eau de Joy, which was a different perfume than Joy in parfum, per Luca Turin. Given my proclivities for jasmine and because this is an article devoted to jasmine, I opt for the eau de toilette, however both concentrations are sure to please the lovers of fine perfumes.
The parfum is assuredly more animalic in the civet direction (a wonderful characteristic and thus the one which I always prefer over other concentrations) and stays close to the body with an elegance that speaks highly of its aristocratic pedigree.

Next on the mellow balanced list is First by Van Cleef and Arpels. It has been adequately discussed on Perfume Shrine in Jasmine Series Part 2, so suffice to say that it is a very elegant and classy success. If you haven’t tried it, please do so and preferably in the eau de parfum concentration which highlights its attributes well.

Diptyque’s Jardin Clos is a jasmine buried in the plush of lilacs and the freshness of greenery of a churchyard full of hyacinths. There is an element of bulb wetness as if the grounds have just been rained upon in the early spring morning and some stale stems that go hand in hand with all cathedrals with cobblestone roads leading up to them; a distant whiff of a little spice like cloves on some parishioner’s breath. But oh wait! There I see some tourists coming up the tracks as well. They are dressed in jeans and crisp minimalist shirts, their hair in a modern simple cut, dancing round their faces; they are probably wearing L’eau d’Issey in discernible amounts.
Sadly the oakmoss does not temper the aqueous quality as much as needed.
I appreciate Yves Coueslant and Christiane Gautrot’s vision of naturalistic fragrances that evoke paysages and memories. It’s just that this one is not as distinctive as the rest of them in the niche category. On the other hand, if you want a fragrance that will not raise eyebrows from the non niche lovers in the general public out there I can’t see this one doing that. Unless we’re talking about people who hated L’eau d’Issey the first time around!
The official notes for it:
Watermelon, White Lilac, Mimosa, Hyacinth, Seringa, Hollyhocks,
Wisteria, Mignonette, Wallflowers, Daffodils, Virginia Cedar,
Oakmoss, Tolu Balsam
Official site here.

Ayala Moriel’s Yasmin is completely different: to mellow the animalic character of Yasmin she uses the even more daring cassie/acacia note that is dense and opulent! The combination is successful, paradoxically, because there is a firmly measured amount of it and the base notes of amber and sandalwood are never too loud, allowing the slightly greener ribbons of the opening enfold the little blossoms in a cheerful embrace. Out of all the notes there is the predominance of a realistic gardenia note emerging, which veers the perfume in alleys of nightfall lushness. But the mastery in Yasmin lies in coaxing this into submission so as to be the single blossom corsage on one’s wrist, not a big bright crown of blossoms on one’s hair.
The overall character is sweet and uplifting, bright and romantic like a summer’s sojourn on a Mediterranean cottage overlooking the sea, friendly laughs by noon, erotic strolls by night.
You can see her description and sample on her site here.

Linda Pilkington, the perfumer for Ormonde Jayne’s Sampaquita (based on jasmine sambac) turned her attention to more tropical surrounding. Although the greeting note of bergamot and grass might evoke the Sicilian landscape of comparably familiar Mediterranean memories, it soon mixes lychee fruity tones with an acqueous feel of water lily that manage to mix with other floral notes such as the waxy slightly lemony magnolia petals, the green of lily of the valley, the sharp and pepper of freesia and the softness of rose to become an exotic sweet mélange that is balanced and surprisingly subtle. The jasmine note is not particularly evident, which is a shame for jasmine lovers like me, but could make this an easy choice for those who prefer their jasmine more subdued in a supporting role.
The OJ site says the following:

"National Flower of the Philippines, literally translated as 'I Promise You', Sampaquita flower is a symbol of purity and fragility, coupled with fidelity and resolve. The scent opens with an unmistakable summer bouquet, bursting forth with sun-kissed lychee set on a canvas of bergamot, grass oil and magnolia flowers in full seductive bloom. The marriage of these elements, together with a dusky floral heart of sampaquita absolute, freesia and muguet, combine to form a fusillade of fabulous intensity. An inspired quartet of base notes, musk, vetiver, moss and ambrette seed, unify and harmonise this sensational summer scent".

Official notes:
Top notes: Lychee, grass oil, bergamot and magnolia
Heart notes: Sampaquita absolute, freesia, muguet, rose and water lilies
Base notes: Musk, vetivert, moss and ambrette seed
In fact it reminds me quite a bit of Patricia de Nicolai’s Juste une rêve, which is another tropical floral of the same proclivities or even of Chance by Chanel with the balancing vetiver base under the florals and the fruits over it.

In contrast Ormonde Jayne’s Frangipani Absolute, which is much more assertive and bold, with brighter accents, proclaims its presence for all to see. The start is all lemony and lime rind that is quite loud, while it progresses to buttery warmth like tuberose crossed with a lush juicy fruit and dying hyacinths in a vase; which is also a tad traitorous to the spirit of real jasmine, like previously, but oh well...
However there is no dark animalic tonality, neither is it light nor “fresh”, so it fits in the middle category designated for our mellow jasmine florals. The musky base with cedar accents is balanced and supporting, accounting for a tropical scent that will not induce nausea from too much synthetic sweetness which is a high compliment for this category of scents. If you ever venture in the jungle of a southeastern country, all humid atmosphere and animal noises heard in the background, don’t forget to pack a little bit of this too. I think it fits perfectly.
Official notes:
Top notes: Linden Blossom, Magnolia Flower, Lime Peel
Heart notes: White Frangipani Absolute, Jasmine, Rose absolute, Tuberose absolute,
Water Lily, Plum, Green Orchid oil
Base notes: Camber, Musk, Cedar, French Vanilla absolute
View the Ormonde Jayne fragrances at her official site


Jo Malone in her fragrance combining bag of goods has Honeysuckle & Jasmine. Completely true to spirit and name, this smells like those two summery blossoms combined at different intervals: honeysuckle opening, which is more pronounced, jasmine subtle heart and exit. Light and sweet, like a walk through summer gardens with those two vines climbing up the fence, sitting under the shade sipping freshly squeezed sweet lemonade. There is a woody note in the background too with the merest whiff of clean powdery musk for the finale.
It pairs really well with her Orange Blossom or French Lime Blossom for even more transparency; or if you want to be daring pair with her warm 154 woody scent.

See more details here


Next post in the Jasmine Series will tackle fresh and translucent interpretations of jasmine.

Painting "La Naissance de Venus" by Eugène Emmanuel Amaury-Duval. Poster from the film The Painted Veil courtesy of cineparmenos.gr

Jasmine series: part 3 ~ rich jasmine suggestions

After examining the properties and usage of jasmine in perfumery it was about time to concentrate on specific perfumes that feature it in its multiple capacities. To this end, it was decided that a triplet of divisions would be opted for: rich essences with depth and oomph, mellow compositions that stand on the golden medium between extremes and fresh nuances that are welcome even on the hottest of days and would never overwhelm. Today we are focusing on the first category.

The crown jewel is of course A la nuit by Serge Lutens. However it has been adequately elaborated on at Perfume Shrine not to require further description.

On the same rich and abundant jasmine kick, L'artisan Parfumeur makes the surprise and offers us a heady bouquet in La Haie Fleuri de Hameau. It is big, opulent, operatic and orgasmic even, full of the concentrated essence of jasmine, much like A la nuit is. Created as a haunting interpretation of Marie Antoinette's garden of white flowers at Versailles by Jean La Porte, founder of L'artisan house and subsequently creator of the Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier line, it is reminiscent of A la nuit's opulence minus the heavy indolic rot.
However La haie fleuri is encompassing other floral notes as well, such as pronounced hyacinth in the drydown as well as lily of the valley and honeysuckle at the opening with a smidgeon of tuberose (subdued) that account for a multi-floral impression that like an impressionistic painting stuns you with its brutal exploitation of the light and its effects on objects. The different nuances with a little green and a little soap interjected peek through at intervals and make their presence known all the while under the baguette of the efficient maestro that jasmine undoubtedly is. Very potent and surprisingly extremely lasting (and I am saying this for those who complain on L'artisan's offerings' lasting power), it is to be used with restraint.
Although created some time ago, it still is available at the Boutique L'artisan and at select places where the brand is available in the big 100ml bottle only. Check here for prices and availability.

Jardin Blanc by Maitre Parfumer et Gantier was the next logical step in our itinerary through rich hedonistic jasmines, and not only for reasons of symmetry after La Haie Fleuri. The inclusion of tuberose shifts this one in the fecal, animalic direction when the opening slaps you across the face with its audacity and insolence, with what smells to my nose as sweet heady honeysuckle and with a nod to Fracas with its rubbery heart.
The official notes are, according to Aedes:
Top: Mandarin, myrtle, leafy green; Middle: Ylang-ylang, clove, jasmine; Base: Sandalwood, tolu, vetiver.
It doesn't come off as green or leafy, although there is the weird "freshness" that white florals sometimes possess at the initial stage, as if you have cut the stems from the vine just now, yet it is deeply earthy, sweet and potent, drying down softer, soapier and more muted which accounts for higher wearability than initially expected.


The Different Company under the direction of Jean Claude Ellena's daughter, Celine Ellena, came out with Jasmin de Nuit, an offering that could not leave Perfume Shrine and its love of all things jasmine uninterested. The official notes include bergamot, black currant, egyptian jasmine, star anise, cinnamon, cardamom, sandalwood, musk and amber. According to the house, it has unusually high concentrations of Egyptian jasmine absolute, which is a variety that supposedly has a fruitier undertone than others more commonly used.
My personal impression is that it is more spicy than intensly floral on the whole and as such it cannot but be a very intriguing addition to the sampling package of any discerning perfume afficionado in the search for jasmine perfumes. In fact many spice lovers would find the cardamom opening delectable (which is a favourite spice for the Ellena family, if I go by Jean Claude's magnificent pilgrimage to it in Declaration by Cartier). It then mellows and leaves the jasmine notes to marry with ambery undertones that linger seductively and warmly on the skin for a long time, much more than other creations of The Different Company if you're familiar with the line.

In our perusal of rich jasmine fragrances, Creed with its Jasmine Emperatrice Eugenie, a fragrance created for a real historical figure, is next on our list. Based on an original formula of the 19th century for the wife of Napoleon III, it is a triumph for the house of Creed. With its rich, suave sandalwood base and its effluvium of jasmine it is at once feminine and emancipated enough to command attention. The lightly vanillic base accounts for augmenting the warmth and cuddliness of the scent. Its character lies somewhere between Bois des Iles by Chanel, Samsara by Guerlain and Organza by Givenchy, accounting for a woody floral that is elegant yet potent at the same time.

Samsara by Guerlain is another stonking beat of jasmine with the rich support of sandalwood, amplified to the max. If your olfactory nerve does not numb with the potent smell I don't know what will produce such an effect. Still, it is a modern classic that merits testing. For a lovely detailed review of it, you can browse Ayala's review here

And for the grand finale, Jasmin Full by Montale is a lethal Venus flytrap that is certainly going to entangle you into a deathly grip. Very strong, yet not indolic or animalic the way A la nuit is, it lasts extremely well and lets its other floral notes like orange blossom peek a boo for the merest whiff. It has been commented to smell a little like ammonia, which could be attributed to the nature of jasmine molecular structure and emition as discussed before, still I do not perceive it as unpleasant, which is something I cannot say for some of the oudhs on the Montale line which compete for foulest sniff on my personal fragrance path. A must try for serious jasmine fans.


Next post will focus on mellow, balanced jasmine renditions.



Artwork Flaming June by Frederick Leighton courtesy of artcom.

Jasmine Series: part 2 ~the role of jasmine in perfumery

As we examined previously, jasmine is an integral part of most fine perfumes’ bouquet and the varieties used render their own specific variables to the end result. 
But why is jasmine so prized over other natural or synthetic essences? And why is it a staple of perfumery as contrasted with what the great perfumer Jean Carles termed “accessory notes”? Finally: can it be replicated?

To quote master Edmond Roudnitska in his essay The Art of Perfumery: “It is the natural product par excellence”.
There isn’t a composition that does not benefit from its inclusion as it marries well with all the other essences: it blends with everything and lends a heart-achingly beautiful tinge to everything it touches. 


Jasmine as a note and component in fragrance composition
Jasmine is a middle note in perfume composition, meaning it evolves in the heart stages of development on the skin which makes it tenacious enough to anchor top notes and swift them to its own trail, yet fresh enough to not outstay its welcome leaving behind its fragrant remnants subtly. Middle notes impart warmth and fullness to blends and they embody passion. It is no coincidence that they are called “heart notes”. They bridge the distance between deep, somber base notes and sharper, fleeting top notes.
To make this more scientifically correct we revert to Septimus Piesse’s system of olfactory octaves, on which W.A. Poucher elaborated in 1923, giving each note a specific “pitch” on the olfactory scale from 1 to 100. In this system 1-15 are top notes, while 16-69 are middle notes and 70 to 100 are bottom notes. Of course several ingredients share perhaps the same number in the scale. It so happens that jasmine absolute is marked as 43 in this system, along with tuberose and rose.
In evaluating the various unusual combinations between notes, jasmine has a particularly successful effect to the following notes: roman chamomile, coriander, geranium (which has a rosy dry out to it), spearmint, and of course rose and bergamot with latter which it forms the most classic accord of most grand feminine perfumes of history.

Jasmine absolute is rendered through this process nowadays:

“Flowers are placed on racks in a hermetically sealed container. A liquid solvent, usually hexane, is circulated over the flowers to dissolve the essential oils. This produces a solid waxy paste called a “concrete”. The concrete is then repeatedly treated with pure alcohol (ethanol) which dissolves the wax and yields the highly aromatic liquid known as an absolute. This method is also used for extracting resins and balsams and for rendering the animal essences, such as civet, musk ambergris and castoreum”

(source: Mandy Aftel, Essence and Alchemy)

Absolutes are more lasting and concentrated than simple essential oils and have a highly intense and fine odour profile. Therefore they are the most expensive perfumery ingredients.
In jasmine the concrete is also very useful, a solid reddish-orange wax, mellow in tone that can be used for adding smoothness and florancy to many blends.

As an aside, for those bent on acquiring some of the best jasmine absolutes and concretes, the following address is recommended:

Coimbatore Flavors and Fragrances
5/82 Palanigoundenpudur
K.Vadamadurai Post
Coimatore 641017
India

You can also contact aqua-oleum which is an aromatherapy site for essential oils, available in small quantities, run by a renowned aromatherapist.

Headiness, Indoles, Living Matter and other stuff on Jasmine
Jasmine’s inclusion in the white floral category of fragrances especially is almost self-evident. Tuberose, ylang-ylang, gardenia (synthetic, because the flower does not yield a satisfactory oil for perfumery) and orange blossom marry with jasmine to produce intensely narcotic and exotic perfumes that capitalize on the sultry image of those blossoms and make our head spin.
The magic of this headiness is indol/indole, referenced also in our Orange Blossom Series, a matter that is also found in human feces and which according to Paul Jellineck “reminiscent of decay and feces, lends orange blossom, jasmine, tuberose, lilac and other blossoms that putrid-sweet, sultry intoxicating nuance that has led to the sum of these flowers and of their extracts as delicate aphrodisiacs, today as in the past”. This is the reason why many people find jasmine animalic and difficult to stomach in large quantities in their perfumes, as they perceive a dirty note to it that repels them. In isolation, indole smells moth-ball-ish, camphor-like rather than poopy. 
A notable example is the majestic A la nuit by Serge Lutens for Palais Royal de Shiseido, in which all the aspects of natural jasmine from bud to rot are displayed like the faceted profile of a precious gem. A jasmine for die-hard jasminophiles. The use of many different kinds of jasmine from Egypt, Morocco, and India are all contributing to giving it richness beyond that of a simple soliflore, intensified by clove, honey and benzoin.
It is interesting to note that indole cannot be synthesized successfully, as the synergistic effect of different constituents is lost. In similar attempts at the lab an unpleasant dominant fecal tone surfaces which makes it very hard to manipulate in an artistic composition. In nature there are minute amounts of materials that despite their exceedingly low percentage in the total of an essence they play a decisive role in the character of the entire complex.

In this regard we may also turn our attention to the most intriguing fact that natural essences, among them jasmine absolute, do photograph in Kirlian Photography, denoting possession of life essence or life force. Semyon Kirlian was a Russian electrical technician who in 1939 discovered a technique of taking pictures by means of electricity. His technique has been widely known as the photography of auras: the life energy that surrounds all living matter. The method uses a photographic paper or film atop a metal plate whereupon the object is placed. A high voltage current is then applied which records the energy field appearing as a bright halo around the object. Living flowers have brighter auras while as they deteriorate and rot the halo diminishes. It is intriguing to note that essential oils do photograph using the Kirlian method with different results according to the description of the olfactory profile of each: sharp, bright, heavy or soft and so on. So the claim of Roudnitska that jasmine is a natural per excellence which we quoted at the beginning of this article makes great sense. And it also bodes with Robert Tisserand’s dictum that natural essences “have a life force, an additional impulse which can only be found in living things”.
Jean Garnero, a Grasse chemist has this to add:

“Despite all the crises, all the economic challenges, all the competition from synthetic products, the perfume of jasmine flower remains one of the essential elements and sometimes the main pillar in the structure of the greatest perfumes”.

French & specifically Grasse Jasmine: Which Perfumes Contain it?
You will often hear brandished the term "French jasmine" as a denoting of superior quality. Grasse after all has been made famous thanks to its natural products, jasmine out of which is most notorious. The cultivation of the jasminum grandiflorum variety came from the Arab trade route. The Grasse jasmine is sweeter than most and more refined than the bulk of commercial jasmine essence that comes from Egypt (more than 3/4 of the total production comes from this area), India, Morocco and India (where jasminum sambac is the traditional product).
Due to extreme costs to obtain this precious extract only a few companies have been able to use Grasse jasmine in their perfumes. This traditionally included Chanel (who use Grasse jasmine in their extrait de parfum of No.5 and the rest of their jasmine-listing extrait de parfum fragrances) and who have bought their own fields of jasmine and tuberose in the region of Grasse, Jean Patou (who includes Grasse jasmine in Joy and 1000) and till a decade ago approximately this was also the case for Guerlain as well (who used Grasse jasmine in their classics, such as Mitsouko, L'Heure Bleue, Apres l'Ondee, and Shalimar extraits de parfum), but not anymore.

Replicating jasmine in perfumes

Ylang ylang, whose name means Flower of flowers, is generally termed “poor man’s jasmine” because its odour profile is not distanced from that of jasmine and indeed it has been used in many perfumes to back up the tonalities of jasmine, as it is so much less expensive yet still very beautiful: suave, sweet, persistent, creamy.
It makes a very pronounced appearance in such perfumes as the rich ambery orientals Obsession and Moschino original, Samsara ~ backing up the big beat of the jasmine-sandalwood accord, Tabu, Loulou, Organza, surprisingly Aromatics Elixir beneath all the mossy earthy elements, Kenzo Jungle, Escada by Margaretha Ley, Amarige, Giorgio, Quelques Fleurs by Houbigant, 24 Faubourg (in conjunction with jasmine sambac), and of course Chanel no.5 and Bois des Iles.
Ylang Ylang also has several grades of quality, first, second and third renderings of the oil, much like the production of jasmine tea that we described on our previous article.

Hedione or dihydrojasmonate, as previously mentioned, is an aromachemical that is often used in composition in substitution for jasmine absolute, but also for the sake of its own fresh and green tonality.
It lacks the clotted cream density of natural jasmine, recalling much more the living vine and for that reason it is considered a beautiful material that offers quite a bit in the production of fine perfumes. Perfumer Lyn Harris, of the brand Miller Harris and also the independent nose behind many well-known creations not credited to her name calls it “transparent jasmine” and attributes to it the capacity to give fizz to citrus notes much “like champagne”. (see? it’s not only aldehydes which do that!)

First used in the classic men’s cologne Eau Sauvage, composed by Edmond Roudnitska in 1966, it had been isolated from jasmine absolute and went on to revolutionize men’s scents with the inclusion of a green floral note. It was so successful that many women went on to adopt it as their own personal fragrance leading the house of Dior to the subsequent introduction of Diorella in 1972, composed by the same legendary nose, blending the green floral with hints of peach, honeysuckle, rose and cyclamen in addition to the herbal citrusy notes of the masculine counterpart, all anchored by a base of cool vetiver, patchouli and oakmoss, lending a mysterious, aloof and twilit air to women who went for it.
Ten years after its introduction to perfumery, in 1976, it was the turn of Jean Claude Ellena to coax hedione in a composition that exploited its fresh and lively character to great aplomb in the production of First by jewelry house Van Cleef & Arpels (the name derived from the fact that it was their first fragrant offering, but also the first scent to come out of a jeweler too ~subsequently many followed in its tracks with notable success). In it, Ellena used 10 times the concentration of hedione used in Eau Sauvage, married to natural jasmine as well as rose de mai (rosa centifollia, which is also a crystalline variety), narcissus, orris, ylang ylang and a hint of carnation with the flying trapeze of aldehydes on top and the plush of vetiver, amber and vanilla at the bottom which accounted for a luminous and luxurious floral.

Hedione also makes a memorable appearance in many other perfumes, such as the classic Chamade by Guerlain (introduced in 1969), Chanel no.19 (1970) and Must by Cartier (1981) and in many of the modern airy fragrances such as CKone, Blush by Marc Jacobs, the shared scent Paco by Paco Rabanne or the bombastic Angel by Thierry Mugler, in which it is used as a fresh top note along with helional.


Next part will focus on other aspects of the jasmine quest.

Artwork by Godward "The new perfume" courtesy of allposters.com
Perfume ad for Eau Sauvage from 2001 courtesy of psine.net

Jasmine Series: part 1~ genus, varieties and production

In the universe of flowers used for their fine precious scent used in luxe perfume, no other blossom stands alone as ubiquitous as jasmine, with the possible exception of rose. Indeed those two grace most perfumes’ heart bouquet as the classic marriage of true minds. And although they are distinctly different in character they sing to each other in mellifluous tunes that enrapture and entice.
Yet which jasmine blooms are harvested, how and what do they offer to the final result?
The Perfume Shrine Jasmine Series attempts to shed some light on these aspects.

First of all, jasmine (latin: Jasminum), native to warm and tropical parts of the world, is a genus of shrubs and vines that belong in the family Oleceae (olive) and it comprises about 200 species. As a plant that has so many varieties some misunderstanding around its names and properties is evident. Although all plants named jasmine, (wrongly or truthfully) bear white little blossom of a fragrant nature, numerous among them are not jasmine but closely resemble the classic flower appearance and fragrance.
According to mgonline.com/jasmine, these are the varieties that are commonly called "jasmine":

Jasmine Asiatic - Trachelospermum asiaticum
Jasmine Carolina - Gelsemium sempervirens
Jasmine Chalcas - Murraya paniculata
Jasmine Confederate - Trachelospermum jasminoides
Jasmine Crape - Trachelospermum divaricata
Jasmine Downy - Jasminum multiflorum
Jasmine Gracillimum
Jasmine Lakeview - Murraya paniculata 'Lakeview'
Jasmine Minima - Trachelospermum asiaticum 'Minima'
Jasmine Night Blooming - Murraya paniculata
Jasmine Pink - Jasminum polyanthum
Jasmine Pinwheel - Tabernaemontana
Jasmine Primrose - Jasminium mesnyl
Jasmine Rex - Royal Jasmine
Jasmine Shining - Jasminium nitidum
Jasmine Star - Trachelospermum jasminoides 'Star'
Jasmine Wax - Jasminum volubile
Jasmine Winter - Jasminum nudiforum
Jasminum floridum
Jasminum illicifolium
Jasminum pubescens
Jasminum sambac - Arabian Jasmine
Jasminum sambac - 'Grand Duke of Tuscany'
Jasminum sambac - 'Maid of Orleans'
Jasmin sambac 'Triple' (bloom)
Jasminum simplicifolium - Jasminum volubile
Jasminum x stephanense
Jasminum undalatum

Edited to add: It has been brought to my attention by the perfumer Anya McCoy that the above link might be a bit off. Cestrum nocturnum is the latin name of night blooming jasmine and Murraya panicaulata is also called Orange jasmine (because the blossoms resemble those of bitter orange tree ones). In addition Belle of India is another important variety which they omitted.
Many thanks A!

In perfumery, however, there are two main varieties used: Jasminum grandiflorum and Jasminum sambac.

The name jasmine itself derives from the arab yâsamîn, which is in turn taken from the Persian. It is also the origin of the feminine Arabian name Yasmine/Yasmina. It seems that this is a very ancient shrub that was highly prized since antiquity. In Indian texts occupying themselves with Kâma (=love; from the eponymous deity that symbolizes carnal love) jasmine is considered the flower of love and it is also said that Cleopatra came to meet Marc Antony on a barge whose sails were anointed with jasmine. Even today in French culture the 66 years of marriage are symbolized by jasmine flowers. So romantic….The French have even baptized an underground station (metro) with this name, those rascals!

The main locations where jasmine is grown today are India -especially around Ghazimpur-, southern Europe and China. The origin of all jasmine is said to be Kashmir, a disputed area between Iran and India.

Jasminum sambac (or Arabian Jasmine) flowers belong to a night-blooming breed and are also used -in the Maid of Orleans variety only (edit: this tidbit was mentioned to me by Anya McCoy)- to make chinese tea, which typically has a base of green tea, although an Oolong base is also known to be used. The delicate Jasmine flowers, grown widely in southern China, open only at night and they have to be plucked in the morning when the tiny petals are tightly closed. They are then stored in a cool place until the following night. As the temperature cools, the petals begin to open. They are left in trays where they emit their scent. Flowers and tea are "mated" in machines that control temperature and humidity. It takes four hours or so for the tea to absorb the fragrance and flavour of the Jasmine blossoms. And for the highest grades of tea, this process may be repeated up to seven times! Real jasmine tea should have all of the fragrance of the flower, but no trace of the flower itself.
Sambac is also the National Flower of Indonesia, where it grows in abundance going by the name of "Melati", and also of the Philippines, known as "Sambaquita". In Indonesia (especially Java), it is the traditional flower in wedding ceremonies for natives.
To add to the confusion in Hawaiian it is also common to refer to this variety as "Pikake", especially so for the more bulby blossoms that are used in leis.
Jasminum officinale (white jasmine or ye-hsi-ming in China) is the national flower of Pakistan, locally called "Chameli" or "Yasmine". In Sanskrit it is called Mallika. It is cultivated at Pangala, in Karnataka, India, and exported to Middle East countries.

Jasminum Grandiflorum, also known as “Royal” or “Spanish jasmine” , although it grows all over warmer regions of Europe as a perennial fragrant vine of intoxicating blooms, has its origin most probably in India from where it came into Europe. The Indian name for it is Jati from Sanskrit; which is a bit confusing as it also refers to the Sambac variety; so for our purposes we are going to use the latin terms for ease of reference. It is worthy of note that no less than 42 varieties of jasmine are cultivated in India!
It is admittedly the most widely used in perfumery.
Grandiflorum became the predominant culture of jasmine in Grasse, French capital of perfumery, even as far back as the 18th century. The crops is gathered in the month of August, before the break of dawn almost, so as to retain the most of the dewy petals and their fragrant emissions, while the whole process has to be performed delicately and quickly, before the little blossoms wield to the heat. It is so precious and expensive because in order to produce 1 kilo of essence 7 million flowers are estimated to be needed.

It is said that 10 600 flowers go into the production of 1oz of Patou’s Joy perfume, by perfumer Henri Almeras, so its tagline of “costliest perfume in the world”, introduced in the 30’s is not as much a myth as might have been surmised. Unfortunately today the Grasse jasmine is rarely used, although Patou still maintains that they employ it in the classic formulation for Joy and 1000. For Chanel perfumes, athough the company still maintains their own fields of jasmine (as well as tuberose) in Grasse, the precious essence only lurks in the parfum /extrait concentration, leaving the eau de toilette and eau de parfum ones a bit lacking. Guerlain used Grasse jasmine in their classics L’Heure Bleue, Mitsouko, Après l'Ondée, and Shalimar parfum, but it doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. Autres temps, autres moeurs!
Now about 4/5 of the fragrance production utilizes jasmine crops from India, Morocco, Egypt and Italy.

Comparing the two varieties, we see that the flowers of Jasminum Grandiflorum have larger and wider petals with a slight tint of red “veins” on the outside compared to those of Sambac, which are more bulb-like with more pointy ends.
Photo of Jasminum Grandiflorum can be seen clicking here.
Photos of Jasminum Sambac can be seen clicking here.

The fragrance is also a little different: Sambac is a little sharper, while Grandiflorum has a more full-bodied tonality, opulent and richer, yet with a fruity freshness accounting for differences in the end result in fragrances. Sambac on the other hand is higher in indoles, which is essential for it to be pollinated in the night and thus the fragrances that contain it may appear more animalic or heady.

Jasmine, the king of flowers, is considered by aroma therapists to be a herbal remedy, used as a sedative, antidepressant or an emollient. It is also considered a powerful aphrodisiac. The flowers and the essential oil are used in herbal preparations, but they are not to be ingested.
The main consitutent of jasmine are benzyl acetate and linalool, which are considered possibly allergenic in internal consumption, that’s why.
To obtain jasmine essence from the little blossoms, the enfleurage method is necessary. Distillation is not delicate enough for the sensitive little flowers.

According to essential oils.co.za:

"It requires flowers to be hand picked and layered over a glass frame coated with a mixture of animal fats. Glass plates in a frame (called a chassis) are covered with highly purified and odorless vegetable or animal fat and the petals of the botanical matter that are being extracted are spread across it and pressed in. The flowers are normally freshly picked before so encased in their fatty bed.
The petals remain in this greasy compound for a few days to allow the essence to disperse into the compound, where the then depleted petals are removed and replaced with a fresh harvest of petals.
This process is repeated until the greasy mix is saturated with the essence, and needs to be repeated a couple of times until saturation is achieved.
When the mix has reached saturation point the flowers are removed and the enfleurage pomade - the fat and fragrant oil - then washed with alcohol to separate the extract from the remaining fat, which is then used to make soap.
As soon as the alcohol evaporates from the mixture you are left with the essential oil. This is a very labor-intensive way of extraction, and needless to say a very costly way to obtain essential oil and is nowadays only sometimes used to extract essential oil from tuberoses and jasmine. The essential oils is separated from the fat through a process not unlike a solvent extraction, using ethyl alcohol."

According to Wikipedia, there are actually two seprate methods of enfelurage ~cold and hot:

“In cold enfleurage, a large framed plate of glass, called a chassis, is smeared with a layer of animal fat, usually from pork or beef, and allowed to set. Botanical matter, usually petals or whole flowers, are then placed on the fat and their scent is allowed to diffuse into the fat over the course of 1-3 days. The process is then repeated by replacing the spent botanicals with fresh ones until the fat has reached a desired degree of fragrance saturation. In hot enfleurage, solid fats are heated and botanical matter is stirred into the fat. Spent botanicals are repeatedly strained from the fat and replaced with fresh material until the fat is saturated with fragrance.

In both instances, the fragrance-saturated fat is now called the "enfleurage pomade". The enfleurage pomade is washed or soaked in ethyl alcohol to draw the fragrant molecules into the alcohol. The alcohol is then separated from the fat and allowed to evaporate, leaving behind the essential oil of the botanical matter. The spent fat is usually used to make soaps since it is still relatively fragrant.”

Today synthetic jasmine is easily produced and preferred due to the extreme cost of enfleurage and hedione is one of the most usual ingredients in substitution of real jasmine essence, a synthetic that smells of the greener, fresher part of jasmine; however in quality perfumes some real jasmine absolute is added to remove the harshness.
As a final note, although jasmine notes and perfumes are usually considered heady and animalic in the universe of perfumery, actual perfumes that are considered thus are a tad further from the flower. Someone saying that a "clean" jasmine scent does not posess a "true" jasmine quality sometimes denotes that one is not acquainted with the flower itself. A "true" jasmine scent would be cleaner, lighter or fresher than most of them. It is the enfleurage method that produces headier scents and it has to do with the inevitable decay that happens during the process, that allows much more of the indolic character of the flower to surface, a fact that is not as predominant when the flower is on the vine.

Next part coming soon.....

Pic of jasmine courtesy of mgonline.com
Pic of Joy bottle from Patou site.