Kiehl's Original Musk & Musk 1921 oil: fragrance review

Amidst the plethora of musk fragrances on the market, some stand out as being individual and bearing their own signature. Decades before Serge Lutens came up with the beastly cajole of Muscs Kublaï Khan, the old New York pharmacy of Kiehl's had broken down that bastion with their Musk fragrance. Its voluminous, expanding earthiness will give you a jolt, searching for that hippy relic sitting some pegs below at the cinema or the theatre (or even the amphiteatre, but let's not go there now). The essence of a seriously funky persona which might have been travelling back from an ashram in India or some Goa hot-spot du jour! Alongside personal enlightenment in the 1960s, there came the musks and the patchoulis essences which characterised a whole generation. And it seems Kiehl's was intent on the pulse despite being founded as far back as 1851.

The archived date for the introduction of Kiehl's Original Musk is given as 1963. However, the company likes to hint with their Musk 1921 oil in the Essences collection (the "essences" are oils on which are thematically based the Eaux de toilette) that the recipe goes far back, since their pharmacopoia dates to several decades before. But here's the catch: It couldn't have. And the reason is one of science & history coherence. Simply put, the musks contained in the formula did not exist before WWII! Even though naturally derived macrocyclic musks like Muscone and Exaltolide existed before that date, their price was very high (Muscone's still is) and there could never enter the formula of a "drugstore" perfume. Therefore, the now banned nitromusks were the appropriate choice for those purposes. And this gives rise to another point, which explains the prevalence of so many "musk oils" in the market (certainly so in the 1960s and 1970s), especially at the very low end of the deal, such as Bonne Belle Skin Musk and Jovan Musk oil: These musky ingredients were almost insoluble in alcohol, rendering an alcoholic version of a fragrance very difficult. This also answers my own question, in regards to why some musk fragrances circulating today have a moniker of "musk oil" on their brand name, even though they're in alcoholic form, like the wonderfully rich Jean Louis Gady Musk Oil Eau de Toilette or the drugstore cheapie beautie Gosh Musk Oil No.6. The answer is, they are probably referring to a prior oil-based formula and have substituted the -now banned- nitromusks with an alcohol-diffusing musk component or two (after all, the polycyclics Transeolide, Celestolide and Galaxolide are very, very popular in the modern fragrance industry, as attested by our article on the subject linked)

Smellwise, Kiehl's Musk 1921 (and to a lesser degree the alcoholic Eau de Toilette Original Musk) is indeed close to Muscs Kublaï Khan, albeit a bit rawer and with a muted, hoarse voice instead of the baritone refinement of the Lutens. Compared to another musk fragrance with a certain reputation, Musc Ravageur by Maurice Roucel for F.Malle, it lacks the sweet spice and is a more to the point musk which can be worn by either sex. At the very start, there is also a similarity of Kiehl's Musk with Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent, which fades later on. The beatific darkness is peeking beneath the floral notes and reveals in fine print what the headlines try to conceal: Here is a living, emoting, squirting human being who hasn't really washed well for a while. If you're not absolutely fanatical about sterilisation, you might get the point in the above.

Notes for Kiehl's Original Musk:
Top: Bergamot nectar, orange blossom
Heart: Rose, lily, ylang ylang, neroli
Base: Tonka bean, white patchouli, musk.

Kiehl's now circulates an alcoholic Eau de Toilette Blend No.1 version of their Musk -apart from their famous oil Musk 1921-, which is tamer (probably due to the exclusion of nitromusks), less skanky and somewhat close to White Musk for Men which The Body Shop introduced a couple of seasons ago. It retails for 39$ for 1.7oz. on the site.
The current ownership by L'Oreal probably means that the cosmetic concerns overshadow any potential adherence to old formulae even more pressingly.
Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The Musk Series (ingredients & cultural history), Scented Musketeers: Musk fragrances reviews.
Photo by Robert Mapplethorpe, Thomas Williams 1987 via cegur.com.

Glorious stink

The ebb and flow of human taste and its modus operandi is an undecipherable commodity. What is considered appealing and desirable and what is not doesn’t obey any quantitative measure. Which of course accounts for trends, market research and lost fortunes in wrong assumptions side by side with the successful lucky guesses.
The same applies to smell and fragrance. More pointedly so when the aromas emanating from someone are of a more intimate nature.

Ever since the dawn of humanity homo sapiens has shared the biological fate of his ancestors in the olfactory field. His sense of smell has primarily directed him to opt for the healthy game and fresh produce and avoid the stale and rotten. It is also possible that it has directed him via odorata sexualis to suitable mates through which procreation might be consummated with the imperceptible help of pheromones, aroma materials that are emanated by individuals to attract. For millennia man has been content to do just that.

And then civilization came into the picture. In the great civilizations of antiquity such as Egypt, Greece and Rome, the desire to distance oneself from the animal nature and embrace the humane, as manifested in science, philosophy and the arts, has made man take measures as to maintain a level of cleanliness that is beyond the mere necessity of survival. All those civilizations have been very hygienic indeed, if we take into mind that there was no running hot water and no bubble baths in a million permutations.
Yet Herodotus talks about how the ancient Egyptians of his time bathed regularly shaving their body hair and even their scalps as to not let perspiration nestle in intimate parts of the body and fester bacteria (OK, he did not use the word bacteria precisely). How they had inward lavatories for their needs and how they took pains to maintain hygiene there. How they used sweet scented oils and incense to accompany the dead to their last dwelling place on earth.
The Greeks were by no means less clean. They too -living in a warm climate- had been taking regular baths using silver and golden basins followed by massage with aromatic oils of thyme and basil at every possible occasion, cleaning their clothes in the rivers with ash and aromatic herbs as described in the Odyssey and equating hygiene with sanity and longevity. Numerous are the mythological tales of gods and goddesses taking baths while mortals gazed hidden. It was Galenos who invented the first bar of soap mixing crushed flower petals, olive oil and ash from burnt logwood.
Ancient Rome was the apex of public baths, in which people of all ages intermingled and talked about state matters in elaborate buildings divided in unctuarium (where they chose the unguents with which they would groom themselves), the frigidarium (cold bath) and the caldarium (hot bath) and then on to the labrum for the final cold shower.
Even lavender that clean smelling herb is named after the roman word for bathing, because of its ubiquitous use.
The tradition of the bath as a civilization index is no more apparent that in Tacitus’ opus Germania where he mentions with some disdain that Germanians, considered barbarians at the time, bathed in rivers. At least they did bathe! Which is more than can be said for the squalor and filth in which Medieval Europe lived for centuries after the fall of Rome.

While Islam reveled in the luxuries of bathing (aided by the religious prerequisite to clean one’s head, hands and feet before every prayer, a phenomenon that occurs with frequent regularity throughout the day), western Europe inaugurated a practice of not washing up one’s body at all, for which the church can be found to be a great culprit.
Maintaining that mixed baths (as were previously tentatively explored) were corrupting the soul and that tending to one’s genitals might lead to impure thoughts, they condoned the absence of bath as a means of chastity while at the same time they traditionally equated holiness with the sweet smell of myrrh and incense. How those two could co-exist is beyond me, but this is not the only paradox one comes up against if one explores the matter further.

It was as late as 1750 according to Alain Corbin and his book “Le Miasme and la Jonquile”, which explores the adventure of sanitation and the desodorisation of society, that the élite chose to distance itself from the foul stench of the gutters and disease that were abundant in the crowded -by then- cities of France. A taste for the aroma of deer musk or of catty civet and of pure country air mingled in what was to become the height of French perfumery. The impression of cleanliness underscored by the reminder that we are all human, full of smells that could be perceived as disgusting in their pure state.
However perfumes seemed to be necessary still to repel the germs and bacteria through their cleansing properties as the tradition of filth continued, albeit a bit subdued: at least the clothes were as freshly clean as possible.
Louis XIV was said to have only bathed two times in his whole long life despite asking his guests and courtesans to wear a different perfume every day and the mere thought disgusts us today, earning a reputation of filth for Frenchmen which sadly has not been totally shifted if I judge by the miniscule pieces of sanitary paper that come out - one at a time!!- through the automatic devices at French toilets today.
On the other hand there was also an allure of the animalic and forbidden in similar practices when Napoleon infamously wrote to Josephine: “Je reviens en trois jours; ne te laves pas!” (I return in three days; don’t wash yourself).
The pair of them began a vogue for heavier smells as Josephine was madly in love with the smell of musk, to the point that her boudoir at Malmaison still has an aura of the aromatic essence present. Napoleon on the other hand preferred her in violets.

The Victorian age reveled in pure and simple smells as a contrast to the more decadent Empire style, using single floral waters (soliflores) for men and women alike. But it was the Puritans more than anyone else that began the hysteria for cleanliness with their desire to eliminate all traces of animalic tendencies from man. Sadly this is an insurmountable task, as the human body has to produce bile and bacteria to break down food which accounts for a smell that cannot be completely eradicated however hard one tries.
Indoor plumbing and hot water at the click of a button made taking baths an easy and swift procedure that is as an automatic reflex for today’s men and women as brushing one’s teeth. Technological progressions made the manufacture of industrial strength deodorants to put under one’s armpits as a necessity of every day life that is a god sent if you’re ever stuck up in a crowded underground wagon on a hot day of August. Perfumed products in an array of mind arresting variety are manufactured to lure as in and buy more, more, more…

And yet in all that progress we seem to have lost what has once been ours in ancient years: the conjugation of mind and body, the clean with the human.
The examples of complete perfume bans in offices in latter days, the denial of the sensual and natural in favour of the sanitized and deodorized has permeated every single aspect of today’s life. Everything around us is artificially scented with a chemical aroma that defies every law of nature. We scrub fanatically to remove any trace of human smell from our bodies and then we apply perfumed products that would supposedly give us back what nature intended to give us in order to attract a mate. We seek to find “clean” but at the same time “sexy” smells. Above all we do not want to offend. Being accused of smelling of body odour is the height of mortification for anyone beyond infancy. (since kids do not really “smell”; there have to be sexual hormones at play to do that…)
In an overcrowded planet that has no room for any more bodies, this was to be expected.
And this is what accounts for the recent resurgence of perfumes that aim to regress in the stink and funk of our human condition: from the goat-y magnificence of Muscs Kublai Khan by enfant gaté Serge Lutens to the dirty smell of Kiehl’s Musk eau de toilette and from the soft caress of a slightly sweaty body that has been active in human activities of L’air de rien by Miller Harris (with the collaboration of Jane Birkin) to the gimmicky Sécretions magnifiques by état libre d’Orange which recalls semen and blood (sounds the recipe for some tabloid article)…

It is clear that one yearns for what one is denied of. And the reason why isn’t very hard to see.


Artwork by Patric Boivine for CGnetworks.com