Luxe Calme Volupté by Francesca Bianchi: fragrance review

 

There all is order and beauty,

Luxury, peace, and pleasure.

-Charles Baudelaire, L' invitation au voyage

In the poem, Baudelaire invites his lover to join him in an exotic place where they can live in calmness and peace. Francesca Bianchi described in 2021, when the fragrance launched, how this fits with the times in which we found ourselves and how she felt the need to offer something which could bring comfort to the spirit, an invitation to connect with oneself and temporarily forget about the daily concerns. Now, after the pandemic, this message isn't lost on us. It still delivers a powerful reminder to savour small pleasures, every single day and Fancesca Bianchi envisioned Luxe Calme Volupté as this escape. 

photo borrowed from pinterest

Baudelaire included L'Invitation Au Voyage in his poetic collection Les Fleurs du Mal in 1857, inspiring in turn the namesake 1904 painting by Henri Matisse. Bianchi is often inspired by classical chords not only in poetry but in perfumery as well and she has divulged that she was inspired by no less than three classics when art-directing this one: Y perfume by Yves Saint-Laurent, Must de Cartier, and Envy Gucci. A floral chypre, a green-top oriental (the mix of galbanum and amber is very characteristic) and a green floral. Armed with that knowledge my adventure in the lands of Baudelaire and Bianchi promised a wild ride. The fragrance of Luxe Calme Volupté is not wild but lush and rich in depth. And it doesn't really recall green chypres of the past, although there is definitely the natural feel those leave you with (although they're not at all natural). Melifluous, honeyed, sweet and fruity, but with that kind of fruity depth we have marvelled at from fruity chypres of yore, when women wore this rich lactonic effluvium directly on their naked skin, their naked bosom and charmed by-standers and their dates while on a night out in the city. Ylang ylang and peachy-plummy notes evolve and get sweetened with a lacing of sweet resins and balsams, without however becoming heavily orientalised or ambery. 

photo borrowed from pinterest

 Perhaps like another verse by Baudelaire, Bianchi aimed for corrupt, and rich, triumphant, With power to expand into infinity. While retaining her Italian pedigree as well. Luxe Calme Volupté feels like a cadenza extending into eternity, because of its nuance, its depth, its fruity ecstasy, which embraces without overwhelming with that horrid shampoo-like synthetic aura so many fruity fragrances do. The Luxe Calme Volupté fragrance leans more feminine than masculine, though all sexes may want to experiment with it. It feels gorgeous and lovely and this comes from someone who isn't crazy about fruity fragrances on the whole. In the same way the Francesca Bianchi fragrances, even when not overtly sexual, take sensuality as a point of departure to ponder on the value of sensuousness, of analyzing Hedone as a philosophical concept. Indeed the Latin name for this Greek goddess is...Voluptas. So there, the Luxe Calme Volupté name of the scent alone recounts the entire story, faithfully.

Mona di Orio Carnation: fragrance homage of a discontinued gem

"Gigi you're not at all that funny awkward little girl I knew. Over night there's been a breathless change in you. When did your sparkle turn to fire and your warmth become desire, oh, what miracle has made you the way you are?" 

  CARNATION by Mona di Orio was created by the late perfumer as homage to the French writer's heritage – "I created Carnation as a tribute to Colette, my favorite writer. Carnation tells a story of wet skin from the sun, of perturbing intimacy, of a boudoir with sensual chypre fragrances. The nectars of flowers stand out, highlighted by leather, evoking a masculine facet of disconcerting seduction." 

                                Franz Xaver Winterhalter, Portrait of Countess Varvara Musina-Pushkina

 The fragrance by Mona di Orio is neither cantered on carnation the flower, nor the sentimental notions of femininity as a created vision of a creature to be cherished in apostasy. Carnation by Mona di Orio is a living and breathing thing, a woman whose carnation, her texture, her very skin is glowing with the desire that warmth and life has instilled in her, made her the way that she is. Mature, inquisitive, all aglow. 

 Mona di Orio dashed past us, with deliciously beautiful fragrances and disappeared into the boundless darkness of the unknown due to a surgery gone wrong. As much in love with scent as her favorite writer, the pupil of the great Edmond Roudnitska, she created her own brand Mona di Orio Parfums in 2004. Carnation by Mona di Orio is a Amber Floral fragrance for women and men, launched in 2006. The house, managed by her partners, has now been finally closed. 

The nose behind Carnation is Mona di Orio. Top notes are Bourbon Geranium and Bergamot; middle notes are Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Violet and Precious Woods; base notes are Styrax, Amber and Musk.

Versace Crystal Noir: fragrance review of enduring best-seller

Lately I have been noticing a strange phenomenon which brought about this examination. Versace's post-millennium child, Crystal Noir from 2004, has been the über perennial for each and every occasion on the Fragrantica members' collections! The members come from far and between, dressed in many guises among eclectic collections, but the bottom-line is always the same: Crystal Noir comes across as the perfect passe-partout fragrance for a very wide audience. Fit for day, sexy by night. This is why it has endured for 20 years to the day.

I am not such an ardent fan of it, but I do get the crowd-pleasing aspect of it very well. It's very easy to wear and mingles with the skin. The presentation with the lid that seems like it takes Herculean capacity to lift helps, too. Capitalizing on the mysterious allure of both purple and black and revisiting the Tom Ford ads element of women reclining with men over them, it catches the eye in a somewhat tacky way. The marrying of a floral note hidden inside a soft, mellow cocoon creates this impression of being immersed in clotted cream. Cream brings on thoughts of gluttony, indulgence, pampering and also whiteness. White also brings to mind gardenias (supposedly in the heart of Crystal Noir's floral chord, though I don't really discern it as such) and shredded coconut whites, all delicious and tropical. White and tropical don't really mix together, mentally, but in this case they do and — lo and behold! — it makes for the converging of territories. We can feel clearly the white floral hint creamed in coconut and deliciously comfy materials of milky woods, fluffy clean musks and a mental interjection of a hot white towel impression. It's worthy of a spa, yet oddly sexy and beckoning-come-hither, too. No wonder it's the fragrance for day and night, for business or pleasure, for just abut any woman. If she's shy she can comfort herself that it's her armour. If she's bold, she can cajole her fancier moods by saying to herself she's always the lady (and she is).