Dame Perfumery New Musk Oil: fragrance review

There are as many types of musk as there are flowers in the field. Musk has diverged from a single ingredient to a pleiad of genres within a scent group. Although most divide musks roughly into either the "clean" or "dirty" camp, depending on whether they replicate respectively laundry detergent ingredients or the nether region gland secretions of a small animal, it is possible to profit of both worlds.

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New Musk Oil belongs to the first camp, yet, without embracing any characteristic of the second, it manages to eschew the clinical sterility that some of its compatriots share. It's clean to the degree that a freshly washed apricot fruit is clean enough to eat. But that does not detract from the fact that it's a succulent, living thing in the palm of your hand, and that you can feel the palpitations of your own heart settle down as you consume it in abandoned pleasure. New Musk Oil is like that; it possesses an unusual fruity quality about it, under the primness of the more standard lily of the valley that's par for the course within this genre of clean musky scents, which recalls an apricot flavor. In fact I'd venture that it shares DNA with another lightly apricot-tinged fragrance in the line, namely Soliflore Osmanthus (osmanthus is a tree with small apricot-smelling blossoms). Makes sense.

Considering that the sensuous application of an oil to one's skin uses touch as the cornerstone of predisposing for the "my skin but better" effect, and that New Musc Oil shares the exact same formula with the alcohol-based New Musk Man cologne, I'd say that with this pretty and lasting oil from Dame Perfumery Scottsdale has won the hearts of women. Not only in the capacity of being attracted to the man who wears the scent, but in the capacity of claiming the oil as their very own.

Like the best out there it looks wholesome but holds a treasure of nuance inside. 

Berdoues Cologne Grand Cru "Scorza di Sicilia": fragrance review

Maison Berdoues is well known for their classic violet fragrance, Violettes de Toulouse, as de rigeur retro as a finicky collector would demand of their collection. But modernization, and Scorza di Sicilia is part of that project, is the name of the game for an old company to survive the times. Berdoues have been busy producing a collection of colognes, called grand cru to reflect wine phraseology, in order to catch the attention of the niche buying perfume lovers with an eye to heritage.

via

There's a dearth of fragrance reviews in the year that has been put between the original release of the grand cru colognes, 2015, and today, so I took it upon myself to write some on them having tested the line in detail recently. And so I'm beginning with Scorza di Sicilia, i.e. Sicilian rind. 

Contrary to the gorgeous sliced citruses painted on the columnar bottles (truly nice in person as well as in the photos) Scorza di Sicilia is not about citrus per se, even though the citrus is perceptible throughout. In fact the scent's character is quite floral indeed, taking lily of the valley as the sharp floral note that assembles the references that an Italian summer fragrance would normally evoke: the sun, the breeze, the lightness, the clarity...We all need a slice of sunshine in our lives, don't we.

Lily of the valley with its sharpness, clean aspect and green underpinning can act as an effortless bond between the bergamot top note (a Calabrian, if not Sicilian, reference) and the grassy-woody coolness of the vetiver of the base. I suspect white musk makes for the same cohesive glue, giving Maison Berdoues Scorza di Sicilia the starched, fresh aura that makes it so very amenable to a hot day somewhere where the houses are white-washed and the roofs tiled rather than thatched.

A note on terminology: Though "cologne" might evoke either short lasting power (and citruses are notorious for that) or a masculine effect I assure you that neither is applicable in this case. It's a rather decent eau de toilette duration scent that could be worn by either men or women in warm weather (I suspect it'd get drowned in the cold).

Miu Miu eau de parfum: fragrance review

Has Miuccia Prada exhausted the fragrance concepts for her own brand and has expanded into its sister brand, Miu Miu? More like the youthful yet sophisticated Miu Miu label needed that which it was lacking; a lifestyle fragrance. Miu Miu eau de parfum comes along to fill that void (and alas not   the one in perfume lovers' hearts) and, although nothing seismical, it is a decent enough composition aiming to be the introduction to perfume for the quite young ladies who look up to the unique Prada fashion sense.

Unsurprisingly the formula was developed by Daniela Roche Andrier, the fetish perfumer of the Prada fragrance stable (and also famous for her creations for Bvlgari, Bottega Veneta, Martin Margiela Untitled and Marni), and bears a quota of her graceful trademark. Although when I first smelled Miu Miu eau de parfum I wasn't bowled over by the innovation and in fact wracked my brains to put my finger on what it reminded of (read on), I have to admit that it is not unrepresentable, at least compared to all the syrupy stuff around, and would probably sell quite well.
The collaboration of Miu Miu with Coty Inc. (the Prada frags are developed with Puig) definitely meant that the perfumer was subject to several focus group tests as well as meetings with the project managers team. This usually means creativity isn't given free rein.

The composition in Miu Miu eau de parfum tethers between the freshness of green notes and quite sharp floralcy of lily of the valley, rendered through modern synthetics, since the old golden standard, hydroxycitronellal has been heavily rationed, and the warmth of something that is almost patchouli-like, yet it's not.

The sharp lily of the valley fragrance note and the green jasmine (similar to the ethereal one in Marc Jacobs' discontinued Blush) is fitting the neopuritan aesthetics of the Miu Miu brand, so one can totally see the choice from a strategic, branding point of view. The woodsier background can be explained via the need for something that resonates with the sweeping trend in feminine launches of the past 15 years: something with patchouli notes...

The familiar faint patchouli chord that is indeed pack & parcel of almost every new fragrance launch aimed at the under-45 crowd (and even some aimed above), at least ever since the introduction of Narciso for Her, the pioneer of the "nouveau chypre" fragrances [refer to this for chypre definition & perfume examples], is, astoundingly enough, not exactly patchouli oil. In Miu Miu eau de parfum the note has a hint of pepper and mainly a wood hue, sans the usual dark chocolate facet of natural patchouli essence. In fact the base note (especially on paper, as on skin it is more fleeting) reminds me of older aldehydic florals with green notes, like Lancome's Climat, but very faint. A wink by the perfumer?

We have touched the subject of fractioned essences before, when perfumers take a complex natural structure and extract only the odoriferous molecules they're interested in, tossing the things that give off notes for their particular purpose. For Miu Miu eau de parfum this involved what the producing company, Givaudan, calls "akigalawood" (try saying that 5 times quickly) which is basically a Givaudan trademark (submitted in May 2012 if that's of interest) made in alliance with Soliance.

This is how Boris, a leading biochemist within Givaudan explained it: “The mission of the Ingredients Centre of Excellence in Zurich, Switzerland is to employ enzymes to develop new fragrance ingredients, and it was within this context that the Biosciences team recently created Akigalawood®, where an enzyme known as laccase was used to transform a natural starting material into a new natural and captive perfume compound. Akigalawood® has recently been commercialised in a leading men’s fragrance for the Brazilian market. This novel material has a profile similar to that of patchouli, combined with vibrant spicy aspects of pepper and noble agarwood facets. This enzymatic process, which only requires mild processing with salt and water, is also a far more environmentally friendly way to develop new raw materials for fragrance use.”

Miu Miu eau de parfum seems to be that triumph of new things that don't really feel new. Perfect for the nostalgic brand then with its 60s cat eye makeup and retro hairstyles, but not for the hardcore perfume lover.

The splendid bottle is inspired by the coveted Miu Miu matelassé leather handbags and the odd color combination reminds me a bit of Cacharel Loulou. The model in the campaign is Stacy Martin, shot by Steven Meisel. Song is Lesley Gore's "You Don't Own Me" (recorded in 1964).

There is also a dedicated website to the Miu Miu fragrance.

Shopping info: Exclusive to Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman from September to December 2015 in the United States. Already available in department store counters and Sephora (where I tested it) in several European countries. Starting from 55€ /£48 /$75 for 30ml/1oz eau de parfum. Ancillary body products also to be available. 

May 1st: Green Floral Touches to Celebrate in Style

There is something about the green floralcy of lily of the valley, the tiny bells echoing the spirit of the renewal of spring, humble-looking and stealthy beneath the grass carpet that adorns the fields anew. The scent of this tiny blossom has inspired perfumers for ages, though it is elusive to capture and has to be recreated via the synergy of other ingredients.

But how did the tradition of offering lily of the valley on May 1st begin? The story goes many centuries ago to the French court of Long Charles IX in fact. On May 1,1561, King Charles IX of France received a lily of the valley as a lucky charm. He decided to offer the flower to the ladies of his court each year, a fact that was appreciated in its symbolic gesture, and as a result, it is now customary to give a lily of the valley, the symbol of springtime, on May 1. Lily of the valley has become synonymous with May ever since. The Latin name Convallaria means "valley" and Majalis means "blooming in May" (from the Greek), echoed in German as Maiglöckchen, the tiny bell of May.

Paul Dunbar wrote in 1901:

"Like the Lily of the Valley
In her honesty and worth,
Ah, she blooms in truth and virtue
In the quiet nooks of earth.

In the silence of the darkness
Where no eye may see and know,
There her footsteps shod with mercy,
And fleet kindness come and go."



 A selection of Lily of the Valley fragrances to feel all spring-like includes: 

Diorissimo by Dior
An icon. Since vintage is infinitely better in all regards, please consult my guide into how to date Diorissimo vintage bottles. 

Le Muguet by Annick Goutal
Muguet du Bonheur by Caron
Muguet by Guerlain (annual limited edition)
Debut by Parfums delRae
Lily of the Valley by L'Erbolario
Eau de Cologne 1920: Muguet by Jardin de France
Les Fleurs de Provance: Muguet by Molinard
Envy by Gucci
DSH Muguet de Mai
And let's not forget Diptyque's Muguet room spray for the feeling of the first day of May year-long.

There is even a tea flavor, Lily/Muguet by Marriages Freres!

To learn more about the lily of the valley traditions and how perfumers use muguet notes alongside a comprehensive list of lily of the valley/muguet perfumes, visit the link. To see some surprising facts about the scent of this humble blossom, read this article. And to see the annual one-day only Guerlain edition of their Muguet perfume, please click on the link.

Happy May 1st to you!

Guerlain Le Muguet 2013: new fragrance edition

On May 1,1561, King Charles IX of France received a lily of the valley as a lucky charm. He decided to offer the flower to the ladies of his court each year, and as a result, it is now custom to give a lily of the valley, the symbol of springtime, on May 1.

To honor this rite of the season, Guerlain offers its own lily of the valley fragrance, Muguet, once a year for a limited time. Dreamed up by Jean-Paul Guerlain, Muguet is offered as a token of luck, the promise of making the most of each moment. Lively, green and capricious, this fragrance heralds the arrival of spring.

Source: buro247.ru via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

This year's edition, Le Muguet 2013 by Guerlain, will be presented on April 25th as an early spring gift.

In-house perfumer Thierry Wasser mingled notes of lily of the valley (i.e. muguet) in the heart with fragrance chords constructed around freshly cut roses and rich jasmine in a composition that aims to combine freshness with elegance.

The new Muguet fragrance edition of 2013 comes in the "quadrilobe" flacon, a design invented in the early 20th century. The pale green bottle has its neck encircled by pale green silk cord, the ends decorated with the initials G, standing for Guerlain, and a papier mache applique on the front depicting in relief lily of the valley blossoms. The final touch is a pear bulb atomiser which turns this fragrance into a retro-looking feminine accouterment.

Price point (as of the minute of writing): 250 euros.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain Le Muguet history & pics of various perfume editions, Perfume Raw Material: Lily of the Valley

pic originally via buro247.ru

Le De by Givenchy: Vintage and Modern Les Mythiques Re-issue Comparison~ fragrance review & history

What possessed Givenchy to create two fragrances in 1957, the well known L'Interdit and the less known Le De, both inspired from and originally intended for Audrey Hepburn? In retrospect, though both elegant, delicate enough florals of immense clarity to reflect the tameness of the 1950s in terms of perfume expectations and societal mores and therefore suited to the "nice girl" elegance of Hepburn herself, the commercial supremacy of one over the other has left Le De in the twilight. It's perhaps telling that Bette Davis, no spring chicken when Le De became available in 1958 ~the actress was hitting 50, well into maturity by the standards of the time~ chose to wear the ill-fated one. Le De remains today a snapshot of how women used to smell, ladylike and in pearls, and even in the re-orchestrated re-issue that the company launched in 2007, seems a captive of time in one way or another.

via savemybrain.net

The history of Le De 

The oddly named Le De is a reference to the particle of nobility in Hubert de Givenchy's name. In 1952, at the age of 24, Givenchy opened his own design house on 8, rue Alfred de Vigny in Paris introducing it with the "Bettina Graziani" collection, named after Paris's top model at the time. He had a tight budget and only three staff working in a room loaned to him by friend and mentor couturier Cristobal Balenciaga.

The landmark of Givenchy's style, and the contrast to his more conservative contemporary Christian Dior, was innovativeness: The revolutionary use of cheaper fabrics employed in designs that intrigued with their aesthetic viewpoint, instead of their bourgeois luxury (influenced no doubt by Balenciaga), and his "separates", instead of the more standard option of dresses. Audrey Hepburn, later the most prominent champion of Givenchy's fashion (and to many the fashion plate whose image both benefited from and inspired him in equal measure), met the French designer in 1953 during the shoot of Sabrina. He had mistakenly thought he was going to meet and dress Katherine Hepburn...An immediate friendship was forged over this misunderstanding and Hubert went on to design almost all the wardrobes she wore in her movies, prompting him to later say that "Audrey's image is associated with my name".  She never failed to note that "Hubert gave me self-confidence. In one of his suits with the beautiful buttons I can forget my shyness and talk in front of 800 people". Their friendship lasted till her untimely death.

Le De came about when Hubert chose decided to gift his friend with a perfume; actually he commissioned two, the other being L'interdit (created in 1957 and commercialized in 1964) and they were hers alone for a whole year. In 1958 the idea of launching perfume under the aegis of his house saw Le De being introduced to the market while L'Interdit was immortalised in another classic Audrey Hepburn film, Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Comparing vintage and modern Le De Givenchy

The vintage edition of Le De comes across as a strange floral etude in the lineage of Le Dix de Balenciaga, with the violet note treated in a non sweet manner, contrary to all confectionary and makeup references that violets usually translate to perfumery. Instead the astringency of the violets gains soapy and powdery nuances (thanks to orris and rose) presenting the suds and puffs of a beauty ritual through the sheer panel of a light filter. There is no natural reference, just abstraction. The narcissus essence is laced with the impression of a horse's sweat, segueing into a musky feminine aura that is lived-in contrasting nicely with the general "groomed" effect. It is subtle enough that you won't catch it unless you're looking for it.

In 2007 a re-issue of Le De Givenchy was launched under the auspice Les Mythiques, a homage collection to the classics in the Givenchy line. The modern Le De is a play on humid floralcy. A dewy floral would theoretically appeal to modern sensibilities, even though this style had commercially expired by the time that the company thought about launching it. The violet is subdued and a "clean" orange blossom and lily of the valley are making it approachable and familiar. The structure recalls a woody musky floral and sillage and projection remain low-key, though perfectly calibrated to function as a constant halo. As of time of writing, the modern Le De is still available from Harrods.

How to Differentiate Different Editions

The original Le De Givenchy was introduced in 1957. The vintage bottle has rounded shoulders and is following the classic mould common for L'Interdit as well. It was available in eau de toilette and extrait de parfum. The 2007 re-issue of Le De Givenchy in Les Mythiques line is encased in a lilac box with the logo of Givenchy repeated in the design motif of the packaging. The bottle in frosted glass, tall, with sparse lines and sharp shoulders.
EDIT: My reader Lily notes that there is an update on the Les Mythiques 2007 edition, introduced in 2011, with slight differences in the packaging, although I haven't come across it in person. If anyone can describe the differences and whether there's a change in scent I'd be happy to include the info.

Notes for the vintage Le De Givenchy:
Top notes are coriander, mandarin orange, tarragon, bergamot and brazilian rosewood
middle notes: carnation, lilac, orris root, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley and rose
base notes: sandalwood, amber, musk, oakmoss and guaiac wood.
Notes for the 2007 Les Mythiques Le De Givenchy:
Top notes: coriander and lily-of-the-valley
middle notes: jasmine, ylang-ylang and bulgarian rose
base notes: sandalwood, vetiver and incense.


Les Feuilles Mortes: music by Joseph Kosma and lyrics by poet Jacques Prévert. Yves Montand sung it in 1946 in the film "Les Portes de la Nuit".

Rochas Madame Rochas: fragrance review

"Give him Madame Rochas. A few drops at a time."
 ~New Yorker magazine vintage ad 27 November 1965

Madame Rochas was the signature scent of my grandmother in her mature years and lovingly picked by my own mother as well, when my grandmother passed away. They were unconsciously true to the wise words of a vintage ad: "Rule: Your perfume should change as often as your mood. Exception: Madame Rochas." It does make for a glorious signature fragrance...I well remember smelling the perfume on both women as a little girl, thinking it smelled simply wonderful. And it still does, transporting me to an elegant vision of old money class, beautiful restraint, no vulgar displays of anything, be it flesh or wealth. But that's not to say she's not sexy or femme either. Another vintage ad puts it well: "In France romance is a national passion. So is Madame Rochas". And it is indeed very much a "perfume in the French style".
Like classical art, this Guy Robert scented creation always felt like it was simply striking the right proportions.

Character & Attitude: A Grande Dame
To describe Madame Rochas feels a bit like ornamenting that which needs no ornament. Much like my maternal grandmother, she is a Grande Dame, never an ingenue, girl-next-door, damsel in distress or soubrette. This might be the reason this 1960 creation fell somewhat out of favor commercially in the last 15-20 years when perfumery reached its apogee of fragrance creation ideals focused on naive youthfulness, immediate accessibility or plain out weirdness for the sensationalist/witty effect. Much like on cannot imagine the generation of CK One approaching their elders' vanities with anything but a dismissed "pffft", one cannot envision Madame Rochas on anyone under 30. Unless of course we're talking a perfumista who dabbles in decades past.

On the contrary Madame Rochas is in a way Lanvin's Arpège revisited for the 1960s and the new jet set emerging, a sort of Parisian Mod, Jackie Kennedy shops French designers before becoming First Lady. Madame Rochas is also interesting as a milestone in perfumer's Guy Robert opus in that it set the stage for his Hermes Calèche to follow the following year, Madame Rochas' drier twin sister; the latter would would influence the market for quite awhile.

The fragrance was created specifically under the commision of Hélène Rochas, the young wife of the Rochas house founder, for whom Femme de Rochas was also made when she went into wedlock. She was only 30 when the perfume was officially issued, showing just how far and wide tastes in what is considered youthful have shifted.

Scent Description
The aldehydes open on a dewy but sunny April morning: Hyacinth, lemon and neroli are shining with green-waxy-lemony shades before an indeterminate floral heart opens with woody tonalities (tuberose, rose, narcissus and jasmine). The propelling provided by the muskier, mossier, lightly powdered (never talc-like) base extends the florals and woods on for hours. The complexity of the formula and the intricate structuring of its accords accounts for its radiance and tenacity.
The powdery orris feel is underscored by the fresh and at the same time musty vetiver; but the proportion is such that the end result doesn't smell musty at all.

This bright, vivacious, graceful bouquet gains subtly soapy nuances of corpulent lily of the valley with only a slight hint of floral sweetness; its delicious bitterness, almost chypré, lurking beneath the green flowers is its hallmark of elegance. Inedible, smelling like proper perfume with a surprising warmth, ambery-like, like honeycomb smelled at a distance, Madame Rochas is an aldehydic floral perfume in the grand manner and thanks to its perfect harmony, lack of uprightness and full on humanity it is among the most legible in this demanding genre as well, not to mention romantic and sensuous too.
If you thought you couldn't "do" aldehydic fragrances because you can't succumb to the most famous example Chanel No.5, maybe Madame Rochas will do the trick. It sums up good taste.

Notes for Madame Rochas:
Top: aldehydes, bergamot, lemon and neroli
Middle: jasmine, rose, tuberose, lily-of-the-valley, orris root, ylang-ylang, violet and narcissus
Base: sandalwood, vetiver, musk, cedar, oakmoss and tonka bean.

Fragrance Editions: Vintage vs. Modern & Bottle Design
The original Madame Rochas was introduced in 1960 and was re-issued 1982 in its second edition, re-orchestrated by Jean Luis Sieuzac. The original bottle design represents a replica of a 18th century bottle which was in the collection of Helene Rochas herself. The box is printed like a tapestry.
The new edition design was adapted by Pierre Dinand and is available in 30, 50 and 100 ml of eau de toilette.  The box is white with gold lettering.
The new version of Madame Rochas is somewhat lighter than I recall and less spicy- powdery, emphasizing green floral notes on the expense of balmy, woody ones. But it's still classy and collected at all times and a bargain to get.

Who is it for?
I would recommend this for all Calèche, Climat de Lancome, YSL Y, Guerlain Chamade and even Dioressence lovers. Climat is much more powdery and immediately aldehydic, Y is more chypre and Chamade relies more on hyacinths. Dioressence starts with sweeter notes in the openening and is much more animalic-smelling in the deeper notes, especially in the vintage orientalised verion. Madame Rochas could also be a great fit if you like things like Rive Gauche by YSL, Paco Rabanne Calandre, Revillon Detchema or Tauer's Tableau de Parfums Miriam.

May 1st: A Lily of the Valley Tradition

The charming custom of offering lily of the valley on May 1st in France dates further back than one might think: it was Charles IX who first offered these tiny bell-shaped and deliciously fragrant flowers to his mother, Catherine de Medici, as a good luck charm. The custom stuck ever since.
Happy May 1st!

For those of you so inclined, you can read about Lily of the Valley (or Muguet in French) in detail, its history, role in perfumery as a raw material, ways to render a synthetic LOTV note as well as a list of fragrances celebrating this green floral note consulting my older article: Lily of the Valley as Perfumery Material and Fragrances with this Note on this link.

 photo via hannasform.blogspot.com

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Jasminora: fragrance review

It's easy to be convinced that the later day Aqua Allegorias have been subpar: The history of the Aqua Allegoria line by Guerlain proves they were not always so, yet the fruity examples of the last few years have been steadily dwindling. Nevertheless, I really surprised myself with Jasminora, Guerlain's latest addition in the line: A fresh jasmine floral which should delight fans of the classic Diorissimo (due to the latter's hyperbole of lily of the valley flanked by the grace of jasmine), as well as the acolytes of Chanel Cristalle and Ormonde Jayne Tiare (due to the crackling effect of both scents' citrusy trompe-l'oeil atop the green floralcy). The Aqua Allegorias have firmly moved from fruity territory into florals (judging by Flora Nymphea and travel exclusives Bouquet No.1 & Bouquet No.2) and if this one is any indication, there's hope yet!
 

According to Guerlain: "Aqua Allegoria Jasminora is a limited edition for 2011. This fresh floral fragrance opens with notes of galbanum, bergamot and cyclamen. The heart features Calabrian jasmine, freesia and lily of the valley, while the base consists of musk and amber."

In Guerlain's Jasminora the protagnonist is hedione (Methyl Dihydrojasmonate, the sparkling, limpid green note isolated from jasmine, paired with the lightening pepperiness of freesia. Here the perfumer used specifically Hedione HC from Firmenich, taking on citrusy touches reminiscent of bergamot juice and magnolia petals. The airy tang is complimenting the floral heart, taking on the refined delicacy of classic vintage Guerlain colognes (like in Eau de Fleurs de Cedrat) and echoing one of the most successful Aqua Allegorias, Flora Nerolia to date (Where the lightly bitter-sour neroli takes on a sensuous overlay, thanks to jasmine). The initial impression is one of electric shock, the peppery flash of freesia and some citrus creating a shockingly "fresh", piquant aura, the air ripe with the promise of rain.

This is supported by a chord of lily of the valley and jasmine which unmistakably translates as "green floral" (the resinous backbone of galbanum grass is furthering this "fresh", bracing impression). Hence my (tentative, as they're not really alike) comparison with vintage Diorissimo, especially in the lighter, fresher concentrations. But whereas the Dior classic veered into a decidedly naughty note in the background ~most notable in the extrait de parfum concentration~ in Jasminora the refined feel is that of a Japanese garden, misty at the edge of dawn and full with the electricity in the air before a rainstorm.
The aqueous elements are woven expertly alongside a sweet note reminiscent of the headiness of honeysuckle, resulting in an uplifting, refreshing melody which is heard though canopies of bright white. The lasting power is very good for an Eau de Toilette, in what is by definition a light genre, through the synergy of modern musks (only lightly powdery) and a subtle mossy note, boosting the freshness into an exploding sense of elation.

Much has been written about how Guerlain is abandoning la patrimonie of their impressive tradition, but with Jasminora they're revisiting part of that heritage with surprisingly credible results and a modern fresh feel. If I might be allowed to grumble amidst a positive review, it's a profound pity Guerlain reserved it for just a limited edition.

The newest Aqua Allegoria, Jasminora, by Guerlain, is available from major Guerlain stockists, £35 for the standard 125ml spray bottle.



Music by Manos Hadjidakis The waltz of lost dreams, from the 1961 Greek film Χαμένα Όνειρα (Lost Dreams).
Picture of Greek actress & dancer Maria Nafpliotou

May 1st, Lily of the Valley day: DSH Muguet de Mai & Muguet Cologne & draw!

A lucky symbol ~it means “return of happiness” in the language of flowers~ the delicate beauty of lily of the valley is however poisonous (especially its reddish fruit) due to convallatoxine, convallamarine, and convallarine; a brave irony on the part of Creation! Lily of the valley or muguet in French (Convallaria majalis) is a herbaceous perennial plant prevalent in Asia, Europe and the Eastern USA, with characteristic bell-shaped little flowers, hence its other name May Bells. In France it is customary to give a posy of lilies of the valley on May 1st as a porte-bonheur. This is probably why French residing author Edith Wharton chose lily of the valley as the embodiment of her heroine May Welland in The Age of Innocence, as referenced in more detail in our article about perfume in novels.

Indie perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz has launched two lily of the valley fragrances to celebrate May 1st, Muguet de Mai for women and Muguet Cologne for men; or, as the mood strikes you, interchangeably. They're both light enough and delicious enough to be enjoyed by both sexes. The idea began by Trish who was curious about a botanical lily of the valley note and Dawn was set to task for this diffucult project: You see, lily of the valley does not yield its precious essence satisfactorily enough for perfumery! The problem has perplexed perfumers for long, ending up in LOTV recompositions, the most renowned being Diorissimo by Edmond Roudnitska for Christian Dior. Roudnitska even went so far as to grow his own lily of the valley in his garden and stooping to smell attentively the tiny blossoms at bloom and the soil underneath so as to capture the true essence of the elusive flower. I also love the real-life yet delicate feel of Del Rae Debut, incidentally composed by Michel Roudnitska, Edmond's son.

Dawn began by imagining how she would come up with a viable solution and tested several mods, out of which two pleased her most, enough to launch them as separate fragrances.

Muguet de Mai is a complex composition which goes beyond a simple soliflore, as I sense the perfumer was not trying to simply capture just lily of the valley, and which brings back a forgotten ingredient that constitutes the crowning grace of many classics: resinous galbanum with its bitter green note. Lovers of the classic vintage version of Vent Vert by Balmain know full well what I'm talking about: the bracing feel of galbanum, technically a bottom note of slow evaporation, but surfacing at the very top of a fragrance composition can be the thing that makes or breaks a formula thanks to its sheer power. At the same time, it aids structuring the scent, giving a skeleton on which to work: Preening the harsh edges, without totally annihilating them, mellowing the base, giving a citric jolt that compliments it and fanning it on precious flower essences. That is what Germain Cellier did for the Balmain.
Dawn injected her perfume with galbanum to give it the ambience of a truly botanical atmosphere, the grass and earth still clinging to the flower. She also looked into vintages, specifically Muguet Composé (c.1930′s) and Muguet des Bois (c.1940′s) by Francois Coty, Illusion oil, Lily of the Valley (c.1940′s) by Draille and of course Diorissimo by Edmond Roudnitska for Dior (c.1970′s), taking cues from the editions chronologically referenced. From those she's closer to the woodier Muguet de Bois, but she also went beyond that: You can instantly feel this is an all naturals scent, due to the very botanical profile of the flower essences, in which cassis buds gives off a slightly sour tinge, then mollified by the balsamic elements ~rather animalistic, like honeyed thighs~ that sweeten that effect alongside the (perceptible) linden blossom essence. A unique take on May's 1st traditional good-luck-charm!

Extrait de parfum version was chosen (I believe) to bypass the problem of the fleeting nature of several natural essences: The result is a tempered, tenacious but low-pitched scent.

Notes for DSH Muguet de Mai extrait de parfum:

Top: Bergamot, lemon, Tunisian neroli
Heart: linden, hay accord, violet leaf, cyclamen accord, hyacinth accord, orris rhizome, broom, jasmine sambac, rose, ylang ylang, jonquil, lilac accord

Base: galbanum, cassis buds, East Indian sandalwood, Virginian cedar, Tolu balsam, olibanum (frankincense), honey beeswax, styrax.

Muguet Cologne is a different animal, lighter in tonality but at the same time with a deeper, more spiritual feel thanks to the mossy-grassy elements. The two predominant elements for me were the bitter citrusy tang (which I imagined as a neroli-galbanum duet in my mind, a bit Eau de Cologne meets Vent Vert) and the vetiver grassiness undernearth. I almost imagined a faint frankincense in the base, influenced as I am by the effluvium that comes out of churches mingling as it does with the scents of spring. Green is its mantle and green are the dreams it inspires, a wonderful tribute to men's skin.
Muguet Cologne has great tenacity (it's technically an Eau de Toilette concentration) and projects at just the right pitch to be enjoyed by everyone around. I know I sure did on my very own skin!

Notes for DSH Muguet Cologne:
Top: white grapefruit, chamomile, coriander
Heart: galbanum
Base: Australian sandalwood, patchouli, oakmoss, vetiver

Below is pricing information for the two DSH fragrances, both very limited edition.

Muguet de Mai perfume extrait concentration
5 ml antique presentation: $125
1 ml vials: $22

Muguet Cologne
1 oz muguet cologne: $98
10 ml muguet cologne $45
1 ml vials: $5.25

For our readers, I have 2 samples of Muguet de Mai extrait and 3 samples of Muguet Cologne I'm giving away. Please let me know what lily of the valley does to you in the comments and I will pick the winners.

Please visit the other participating blogs for more impressions on DSH's Muguet editions:

IndiePerfumes (Lucy)

The Non Blonde (Gaia)

CaFleureBon (Ida)

Scent Hive (Trish)

DSH Notebook (Dawn)

Artwork by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, used with permission.

Disclosure: Samples sent directly by the perfumer.

A.Tauer Carillon pour un Ange: fragrance review

The newest fragrance by Andy Tauer, Carillon pour un Ange, takes its inspiration from a material that is often described as angelic, lily of the valley. Hence the working name during the creation process was Gabriel. Actually, truth be told, lily of the valley (or muguet as the French call it) is not exactly chastity material as a recent study revealed. Still, the piercingly sweet, very clear and green aroma creates the impression of puerile innocence, of tender cheeks and pouty small mouths.
A carillon on the other hand is a musical instrument composed of at least 23 cup-shaped bells played from a baton keyboard using fists and feet, its sound chiming with piercing clarity, much like the aroma of lily of the valley pierces the air with its declaration of spring's final assertion. So carillon pour un ange, a carillon for an angel... The seraphic allusion is certainly not lost, the fragrance is quite lovely.

The greeness in Carillon pour un Ange is delightfully tinted with the darker, oilier hint of hyacinth as was the case in a former Tauer scent, Hyacinth and a Mechanic. Even though the latter was an experimental batch, serving an SOS purpose on its bottle-message across the world (more details here), it featured at least two of the elements which infiltrated themselves in Carillon: the green hyacinth and the leathery note. In Carillon the leather is very subdued. Instead one almost loses the lily of the valley field for the hesperides grove at some point. Tauer has fetish materials which he uses over and over to great effect: I seem to feel his mandarin peel materialise again and again; it's such a great lifting note that it makes for immediately inviting openings, often coupled with rose as in Une Rose Chyprée, or Incense Rosé. (click for reviews of both)

The challenge with lily of the valley is twofold: One the one hand, it's so easy to lapse into the "salle de bains" hygienic note or the Aisle of Glade (as March puts it), due to its ubiquitness in functional products via several synthetic replications (natural extraction is not cost-effective or yielding enough). Andy Tauer is using a combination of IFF's Lyral and Lilial for his own creation, bypassing the problem of sharpness by the injection of a sweet note reminiscent of violets and lilacs (pink jasmine might be actually creating the lilac impression, the two share a bubble-gummy nectarous headiness).
One the other hand, there is the sacred Diorissimo, an über alles classic if there ever was one; impossible to surpass and one would be wise to not even try. Then again, now that Diorissimo is not recognizing itself in the mirror all too clearly these days due to multiple surgical interventions, one might reconsider. Still, the cleverness lies not in trying to create a limp-wristed or sharp rendition of lily of the valley, nor a pastoral gouache, but to boldly propose a third path: that which marries the white bell with other flowers and which contrasts it with elements to which it is naturally emerging from: the decaying leaves being eaten up by fungi, the woods where it grows, the green tapiserrie on which it sprouts its minuscule bell-shaped blossoms. Thus the base of Carillon pour un Ange takes on woody and skin-soft nuances, mossy, non dirty really (it would be paradoxical, after all), with the shades of love, death and rebirth winking to a theatre full of children watching mesmerised a play of magical marionettes.

Polish composer Zbigniew Preisner says "For me there exists only one music -good music"...and "I compose what is close to my heart". Substitute music with perfumery and you've got Tauer to a T.



Notes for Andy Tauer Carillon pour un Ange: Top: rose, ylang ylang, lilac
Heart: lily of the valley, jasmine, leather
Base: ambergris, moss, woods.

Carillon pour un Ange is available as Eau de Parfum Riche (which lasts very well) in small hand-poured 15ml bottles directly from Tauer Perfumes or on Luckyscent. Samples are available here. We're hosting a giveaway for two full bottles, comment to enter.

Painting Sleep lost in Dreams by James C.Christensen via morgenthruston
In the interests of full disclosure I sampled the perfume through the generosity of the perfumer himself; his is well documented.

Does Lily of the Valley Act as a Sex Attractant?

The first molecule to challenge the notion that women smell more efficiently than men is revealed, having the dubious ~but fascinating too~ privilige of being the one which also activates OR1D2; that's the human olfactory receptor which, besides being found in the human nose, is also expressed in human sperm cells! Yes, sperm cells actually "smell" all right! The molecule is the aldehyde Bourgeonal and it smells of lily of the valley, also known and referenced as muguet. (Makes you rethink that green Ajax Fête des fleurs you've been using to mop your floor, doesn't it?)
So, do the little swimmers go straight for the dip into your lily of the valley lathered and scented, ahem, private parts? (Lily of the valley substitutes have been for long used in soap making). But before you go out of your way to also clear the shelves of your closest perfumery hall off their stock of Diorissimo and Envy, take a moment to think and appreciate the facts:

It's Bourgeonal alone which activates testicular odor receptors [Science, 2003] and not another lily of the valley aromachemical and it was one among 100 ingredients screened for receptor activation abilities. Bourgeonal just happened to be one of them, which doesn't exclude that there may be others, even more capable of the job. German scientist Hanns Hatt is nevertheless so convinced that he wrote a book (in German) touching upon it with the title: "The lily of the valley phenomenon: All about smell and how it affects our lives". (There could be hundreds of applications in either fertility or contraception products in the future, I guess, not to mention a distinct stirring of the market off the pheromones and into muguet territory! Think about that for a moment...).
The beginning of the research on sperm odour receptors predates this: "Dr. Parmentier, working with researchers in Holland and France, accidentally discovered the sperm receptors while looking for genes that help control thyroid hormones. Using a technique called polymerase chain reaction to scare out even shadows of gene activity from tissue samples, they stumbled on a family of receptor genes active in male germ cells, the precursor tissue that matures into sperm". [source]

To revert to bourgeonal, according to the snippet which I found at First Nerve, where the news was posted, "Peter Olsson and Matthias Laska at Linkőping University in Sweden have finally found a molecule that men detect at reliably lower concentrations than women. It’s an aromatic aldehyde called bourgeonal and as we shall see it’s an interesting molecule for other reasons. [...] Bourgeonal is a potent molecular signal that is critical to sperm chemotaxis, In other words, it’s what sperm use to find their way to the egg. So it makes more than a little evolutionary sense that bourgeonal detection is ramped up in men and their gametic representatives". Of course, Dr.Avery Gilbert has the right humorous tone of telling the facts, so go over and take a read.
But where does the attracting ingredient come from, biologically speaking? "Is it the egg itself, or some other part of the female reproductive tract? 'It could be that the egg is releasing an attractant that helps guide the sperm to the egg, but the problem is that we don't yet know whether, in fact, the egg is the source of that attractant,' Donner Babcock says". [source]

Searching around the Internez I found a post from Jenny van Veenen in Perfume Making back from August 2007, in which she tackles exactly bourgeonal for it sperm kinetics capabilities. The VERY interesting fact and with an especially related connection to perfumes is that "the aroma chemical 'Undecanal' (Aldehyde C-11 undecylenic, waxy/fatty/rose/citrus odor) appears to block the effect of Bourgeonal and inhibits the chemo sensory response in sperm cells. " So watch out those aldehydes if you're trying to get pregnant, you might check out the products you use or if you're trying to avoid getting pregnant you might embrace undecanal etc. A brave new world indeed.

More reading: NY Times , Health 24 and 3Sat (in German)

pic from Perfume Making

Distant cousins: Lily of the Valley & Lily~part 1: Lily of the Valley

Although in nomenclature lily of the valley is easily confused with lily and its own varietal richness, the two are completely different flowers and in this scent guide I will try to analyse their olfactory differences, their participation in the bouquet of classic and modern fragrances, the materials used to render them in perfumery as well as a list of perfumes that highlight their graceful beauty. The first part deals with Lily of the Valley or Muguet, while the second part will deal with Lily.

The raindrenched earth after spring showers and the wet foliage remind me of the lyrics by songwriter George Brassens:

"Le premier mai c'est pas gai" / "The first of May isn’t cheerful"
"Je trime", a dit le muguet / "I slave away", the lily of the valley said
"Dix fois plus que d'habitude" /"Ten times more than usual"
"Regrettable servitude" / "A regrettable encumbrance"
Muguet, sois pas chicaneur / Lily of the valley, don't be a quibbler
Car tu donnes du bonheur / Because you make people happy
Brin d' muguet, tu es quelqu'un... / Nosegay of lily of the valley, you’re somebody...

~Georges Brassens, Discours Des Fleurs

May 1st has been inexctricably tied to Francophiles’ minds with one of the loveliest spring blossoms and its neo-Victorian image: lily of the valley (Lys des vallées) or, as the French commonly call it, muguet (pronounced mygɛ). And it’s for a reason: it’s the traditional flower offered on this day and one can routinely see street vendors selling nosegays on the French streets. The tradition goes back to Charles IX who on May 1st 1561 inaugurated the custom.It is also a symbolic gift for 13 years of marriage and is traditionally used in bridal bouquets thanks to its enticing scent.

Etymology and symbolism

The etymology of muguet is said to derive from muscade (nutmeg), since the smell of the flower has an indefinite nuance reminiscent to it, which became mugade, and finally muguet. A lucky symbol ~it means “return of happiness” in the language of flowers~ the delicate beauty of lily of the valley is however poisonous (especially its reddish fruit) due to convallatoxine, convallamarine, and convallarine; a brave irony on the part of Creation!
Lily of the valley/muguet (Convallaria majalis) is a herbaceous perennial plant prevalent in Asia, Europe and the Eastern USA, with characteristic bell-shaped little flowers, hence its other name May Bells. But its alternative names "Our Lady's tears" and "Male Lily" are more poetically evoctive: Legend wants Eve to have shed bitter tears after the Lapse from the Garden of Eden which falling onto the ground transformed into the white little blossoms. Another medieval legend wants Saint Leondard de Noblac, a knight in the court of Clovis I (of the Limousin region of France) and patron saint to prisoners of all kinds, to have battled with a dragon (a common medieval theme) in which his shed blood trasformed into lilies of the valley. But although one usually associates the delicate green floralncy of its aroma with females now, the term "Male Lily" has another explanation: It has been a favourite perfume for men ever since the 16th century, to the point that up till the 19th century the term muguet was linguistically used to denote an elegant young gentleman!
Another legend wants the Greek God Apollon to have tapestried the mount Parnassus with lilies of the valley so that the Muses wouldn’t hurt themselves if they fell...Classical antiquity paid great attention to the seasonal celebrations of nature and the zenith of the Roman celebrations of Flora, goddess of flowers, culminated on May 1st.

The role of lily of the valley in perfumery and construction of the accord

Lily of the valley is technically a green floral with rosy-lemony nuance*, whereas lily is a white, spicy floral. The former has known a profound and extensive use in perfumery, despite its resistance to natural extraction methods which yield a very miniscule amount of no great significance. Apart from soliflores (fragrances focusing on highlighting the beauty of one kind of flower), the lily of the valley accord has been adequately used in classical fragrances as a catalyst to “open up” and freshen the bouquet of the other floral essences in the heart, much like we allow fresh air to come in contact with an uncorked red wine to let it “breathe” and bring out its best. The effect is wonderfully put to use in Chanel No.19, Guerlain’s Chamade and Jean Patou’s L’Heure Attendue. Its lack of sweetness is also an important aspect in the creation of masculine fragrances: witness Chavelier d’Orsay, Équipage by Hermès, Insensé by Givenchy and Riverside Drive by Bond no.9 to name but a few.

The reconstitutions of lily of the valley note are based on either combinations of natural essences (usually citrus with jasmine, orange blossom or rose and green notes such as vetiver) or more commonly on synthetics. The classical ingredient is hydroxycitronellal, as well as the patended Lyral and Lilial, all coming under the spotlight of the latest restrictions on perfumery materials {you can read all about them here}. Lilial has a cyclamen facet to it, used in good effect in Paco Rabanne pour Homme. Super Muguet is another lily of the valley synthetic which surfaces in Marc Jacobs for men, as a clean facet under the figs. Kovanol is very close to hydroxicitronellal, which is interesting to note. Restricted by IFRA is also the newest Majantol {2,2-Dimethyl-3-(3-methylphenyl)-propanol}, while Muguesia or Mayol are also used to give this green floral smell of muguet. The name Mayol has an interesting background: it’s a nod to comedy singer Félix Mayol who put a boutonnière of the muguets he had been offered by his girlfriend Jenny Crook instead of his usual camelia on the 1st of May of 1895 before going out to sing!
Phenylethyl alcohol and benzyl acetate (the former rosier, the latter jasminer) as well as dimethylbenzenepropanol also contribute in the creation of bases which are used to render lily of the valley notes. It all depends on which impression the perfumer wishes to convey!
The clean, almost soapy nuances of lily of the valley has been traditionally exploited in soaps, which is why all too often lily of the valley as a fragrance note reads as “soapy” in your perfume. It’s also why it’s terribly difficult to render a convincing lily of the valley fine fragrance that does not evoke functional cleaning products, due to the exagerrated use they make of this aroma in that sector of the industry.

Iconic Lily of the Valley fragrances

The definitive lily of the valley fragrance used to be the masterful Diorissimo (1955) by trismegistus Edmond Roudnitska who is said to have planted a bed of them in his garden, so as to study the smell attentively and to evoke the indefinable atmosphere of spring. Lily of the valley used to be the lucky charm of Christian Dior himself, who always sew a twig into the hem of his creations to bring them luck. The juxtaposition of virginal, celestial greenness in the lily-of-the-valley crystal tones of Diorissimo with only a hint at improper smells through the deep, warmly powdery aspect of civet and indolic jasmine in the dry-down is nothing short of magical. Alas, the latest formulation of Diorissimo has taken away that animalic warmth, leaving it with only the clean facet.
Roudnitska himself however had been quite appreciative of the pure and delicate innocence of Muguet des Bois (Muguets of the Woods) by Coty (1942). Guerlain’s seasonal limited edition of Muguet is a rich, sweeter rendition that is partly inspired by the original Muguet of 1906, while Le Muguet by Annick Goutal (2001) is an ethereal and sharper interpretation, quite true to the blossom, if only rather fleeting in Eau de Toilette (alas the only offering). Début by parfums DelRae is an intensely lovely and sylphid-like lily of the valley composition by Michel Roudnitska, which shines like ivory pearls on a long smooth neck. For those who prefer a soft and creamy treatment of the note, I suggest they try Muguet de Bonheur by Caron (1952).

Fragrances with prominent Lily of the Valley notes (in alphabetical order, click links for reviews):

Acaciosa by Caron
Anais Anais by Cacharel (along with lily)
Antilope by Weil
Aqua Allegoria Herba Fresca by Guerlain
Aqua Allegoria Lilia Bella by Guerlain
Be Delicious by Donna Karan
Capricci by Nina Ricci
Chamade by Guerlain (along with hyacinth)
Clair de Musc by Serge Lutens
Climat by Lancôme
Dazzling Silver by Estee Lauder
Début by DelRae
Dior me, Dior me not by Dior (limited edition of 2004, along with sweet pea)
Diorissimo by Christian Dior
Eau d’Argent by Montana
Eclipse by Parfums De Nicolaï
Envy by Gucci
Helmut Lang Eau de Cologne and Eau de Parfum (discontinued)
Jessica Mc Clintock by Jessica Mc Clintock
Koto by Shiseido
Laura by Laura Biagotti
Lauren by Ralph Lauren
Le Muguet by Annick Goutal
Le Muguet de Rosine by Les Parfums de Rosine (discontinued)
Lily by Dior (limited edition of 1999)
Lily of the Valley by Crabtree and Evelyn
Lily of the Valley by Floris
Lily of the Valley by Penhaligon’s
Lily of the Valley by Taylor of London
Lily of the Valley by Winds of Windsor
Lily of the Valley by Yardley
Miss Dior by Christian Dior
Miss Worth by Worth
Mughetto by L'Erbolario
Mughetto by Santa Maria Novela
Mughetto di Primavera by I profumi di Firenze
Muguet by Cotswold Perfumery
Muguet by Guerlain (limited edition, launches for May 1st only each year)
Muguet by Molinard
Muguet by Slatkin
Muguet de Bois by Coty
Muguet de bois by Yves Rocher
Muguet de Bonheur by Caron
Muguet de Mai by Roger & Gallet (discontinued)
Odalisque by Parfums De Nicolaï
Remember Me by Dior (limited edition of 2000)
Sampaquita by Ormonde Jayne
Tiare by Chantecaille
Urban Lily by Strange Invisible Perfumes
W by Banana Republic
XS pour Elle Paco Rabanne

*In a study on the headspace of lily-of-the-valley flowers using GC-MS and GC-sniffing/GC-olfactometry techniques, Brumke, Ritter and Schmaus from the company Dragoco (today Symrise, Germany) identified some 23 compounds contributing to the lily-of-the-valley fragrance, among these several newly detected trace constituents. The odorants could be divided into floral-rosy-citrusy notes: citronellol (9.6 %), geraniol (8.4%), nerol (1.3 %), citronellyl acetate (1.1 %), geranyl acetate (3.3 %), geranial + benzyl acetate (0.96 %), neral (0.02 %), benzyl acohol (35 %), phenethyl alcohol (0.78 %), phenylacetonitrile (3.0 %), farnesol (1.9 %) and 2,3-dihydrofarnesol (0.88 %), green-grassy notes: (Z)-3-hexen-1-ol (11 %), (Z)-3-hexenyl acetate (7.8 %), (Z)-3-hexenal (trace) and (E)-2-hexenal
(0.18 %), green pea and galbanum-like notes: 2-isopropyl-3-methoxypyrazine (trace) and 2-isobutyl-3-methoxypyrazine (trace), fatty, waxy, aldehydic notes: octanal (0.15 %), nonanal (0.1 %), decanal (0.07 %) and fruity, raspberry notes: beta-ionone (trace). In another study of lily-of-the-valley, phenylacetaldehyde oxime was identified (source Bo Jensen).

Muguet pic via mes-passions.over.blog.net
Adrien Barrère, illustration of F.Mayol, chromolithographie via imageandnarrative.be, Diorissimo bottle via Dior

London Calling...part 2

There is no greater endearment than the nostalgia of bygones. Sommerset Maugham would have plenty to say about this, I’m sure, in his usual fabulous style and poignant mood which would account for a frame of mind not unlike the one I had upon visiting the renovated Penhaligon’s store in London’s Wellington Street. There is also a Penhaligon's store in Oxford street, but Oxford street being quite unlike Oxford the town itself (if you have been to either, you do know what I mean), I never ventured inside.

There is an element of kitsch Sarah Key childish reminiscence in tiny pastel bows on ribbons and deep claret red hues that adorned the shop in days of yore when eager and just-out-of-bloomers so to speak (at least financially) I pressed my nose on the window pane to stare at the dark wooden luxurious displays and the bottles of perfumes and lotions stacked up in rows.

The whole setting was like that of a fairy tale set in the Victorian era, the scent of Violetta in the air like a powdery sweet candy that was sucked by Miss Havisham in an alternative universe where she does get her man after all and the spider webs on the tables and corners remain but a mere figment of an author’s imagination. It just exuded the kind of posh ambience of cognac sipped in the evening in front of a blazing fire.
Later this image was replicated (or so I thought at the time) by Browns of Melbourne which I scoured for lovingly back at home, at times when Penhaligon’s was unavailable for purchase so saccharine might as well stand for sugar. Alas the cutesy factor sometimes ruined it for me. The look of weirdly wonderful spicy Malabah was what I was searching for, you see.

The new façade is lovingly worked on, with pastels, pale colours that give a new lift, more airy, brighter certainly; but somehow lacking the deeper ends of the Victorian fairy tale, poignant Dickensian vagabonds with gratitude towards small children missing. Still, the boutique is magical and very worth a visit.

I reacquainted myself with their cherubic Lily of the Valley which rings wreath-like spring chimes in my ears and with daredevil Malmaison, a scent of carnation that is piquant yet restrained enough to make me crave it and finally put it on my to-buy list for next season. I refrained as the shop was rather expensive and the pound is still strong. However the obliging staff was making this very hard to do and I was enslaved by their lovely chat and their pleasing demeanor and had I purchased something I would have certainly opted for the promising hand and arm massage that involved the brand’s lotions and powders (that was also an option at Jo Malone, of which later on).

As it is, my hands and arms are left unPenhaligon-ed and I feel the poorer for it.
As Miss Havisham surely must have known, opportunities come once in a blue moon.

Artwork "A rubber at miss Havisham's": wood engraving by Marcus Stone, courtesy of victorianweb.org. Pic of Penhaligon's products courtesy of their site.