The playing field of fairy tale and dangerous complicity has brought us the poisoned apple. THE emblematic symbol of sexual provocation, thanks to Eve and the serpent, literally or metaphorically poisoned-laced apples have featured in a cohort of fairy tales to suggest a provocation leading to knowing one in the biblical sense; just not spelled out for kids' sake, you know.
Apple shaped bottles in perfumery are many, from Nina Ricci's 1952 fittingly named Fille d'Eve to Joop's All About Eve. The most recognizable ones are the Poison fragrances issued by Dior, the original cunningly colored to look like a cursed object. Hypnotic Poison amongst the line-up purposefully recalls the tale of Snow White, with its demonically bittersweet almond in the top note, which suggests something dubiously edible; would he bite or would he not?
It is the irony of the gods of perfumery that Annick Menardo is the driving force behind not only this bittersweet Angelica's Ring of a scent, but also of the second most popular fragrance in an apple-shaped bottle. Lolita Lempicka original eau de parfum was the first Angel-spawn to deviate from the Parisian amusement fair of chocolate-patchouli and cotton candy froth into an arpeggio that played pipes in the far away forest.
Beckoning you ever closer into the danger zone, with its violet heart candied with licorice, and shaded by intricate coils of climbing ivy which threatened to imprison you. It smells medicinal and weird. But also oddly appealing!
Not coincidentally, the apple has been a reference for Menardo herself who has confessed being introduced to perfumes via another, contrastingly innocent and tame fragrance by Max Factor. She puts a hint in her work here and there. In Lolita Lempicka EDP she overdosed the licorice with its anise-like tonalities to hide the juiciness of the apple in order to render a perversely mischievous nymph that entices you...just like Eve. It plays the little girl, but she's corrupted by the knowledge of the biblical sense. As marauders lie in ambush for a victim, so do bands of perfumers apparently.
Watch this wonderful commercial for the Lolita Lempicka fragrance I came across. Subtitled L'Eveil du Désir (the awakening of desire) it is centered around the sensual awakening of a young woman who enters an enchanted forest when the apple, fruit of sin and desire casts a spell on her with its fragrant message. I especially love the devious movement of the bottle, creeping up out of its own -seemingly- volition, like a poisonous vampiric little weed, entangling people in its wake in Jung-loaded imagery. Feast your eyes...
(uploaded by iccops)
Credits: Vincent Baguian/Bruno LeRoux (ouistiti.com)
Please visit again tomorrow for an assesment of the year in scent in my style and I remind you to vote on the poll at the upper right hand column.
It's not unusual that my mind reels into well known quotes/parables/phrases that get twisted to serve my purposes. I'm weird like that I guess and words have always being a playground. However the assonance of "s" in the above paradigm is testament to the powers of suggestion as it combines two languages, english and french, both foreign to me. "Sel" means of course "salt" in english and it rhymes quite nice with the original "shell" of the english exercise phrase. So what does salt have to do with a perfume article, you might ask. As promised, this is part of a new trend in perfumery that is making waves as we speak (it seems that I am very bent on wordplay and puns today).
For the past year there have been many new releases that capitalize on a new aspect, an aroma that would be better appreciated with our taste buds rather than our olfactory skills. I am talking about the salty aspect that several new perfumes have veered into. Taste really encompasses very few variations: there is sweet (primeval like breast milk and thus a little juvenile), sour (for those who prefer a little animation to their palate), salty (a memory of the ocean and minerals, a grounding experience and a health concern for most), bitter (a taste for the adventurous and oh, how appreciated it is in combination with other tastes!) and finallyumami (rich, fatty, meaty, the effect of many foods that transpire as full). And that's it! All tastes are basically a combination of those basic categories. The rest is flavour ~the mystical tryst of taste and olfaction that gives us real pleasure in savouring petit fours and enjoying tiramisu. And of course other factors such as the food's smell, detected by the olfactory epithelium of the nose, its texture, detected by mechanoreceptors, and its temperature, detected by thermoreceptors, come into play. So it comes as no surprise that experiments conducted with willing volunteers eating potatoes and apples with their nose closed revealed a complete confusion as to what they were consuming, resulting in hysterical results.
So how can a taste experience such as salty be translated into the olfactory realm of perfume? This is where art and innovation come to the fore. And it is very appropriate that we discuss this now that summer is well upon us.
It all began by Eau des Merveilles (=water of wonders), an Hermès fragrance developed a few years past that took the last available batches of real ambergris (suppossedly; there is no way to confirm that) and made them into a limpid, salty, woody alloy fit for women who were not into florals or citrus for summer, yet who wanted a light and refreshing scent nonetheless. A unisex triumph had just erupted.
And then came The Different Company with its Sel de Vetiver in spring 2006: the olfactory rendition of dirty vetiver roots into a glass of marine water. Many proclaimed that it smells like an unwashed sailor, and for that reason it made an impression. Composed by Celine Ellena, Jean Claude's daughter following the illustrious dad's footsteps, it encompasses notes of grapefruit, cardamom, Bourbon geranium, lovage, Haitian vetiver, patchouli, iris and ylang ylang. Apparently the inspiration was the "scent of salt drying on the skin after bathing in the sea", which is an image I can very well associate with.
Then came in summer 2006 (for Europe at least) the completely mesmerising and delectable L de Lolita Lempicka(for a full review click here). A fragrance that combined the salty aspect of a mermaid with the opulence of vanilla, tonka and musks for an effect that is like skin baked under the sun on a hot secluded beach on a mediterranean isle. By then the ground was ripe for more launches that viewed the salty note as an intergral part of their formula.
This past winter saw the launch of one of the best salty-sweet compositions for those who appreciate a few M&Ms scattered into their pop-corn like Sarah Jessica Parker apparently does or for those who like to combine fresh watermelon with greek feta cheese for dessert, like it's customary here. I am talking about Elixir des Merveilles, a take on the original that takes the salty element and incorporates it into an orientalised composition that could be worn in any season. It includes notes of orange Peel, , caramel, biscuit accord (vanilla, tonka bean, milk), sandalwood, incense, resins: Peru balsam and balsam of Siam, oak, patchouli, cedar and ambergris, echoing the original Eau des Merveilles. For a full review, click here.
Terre d'Hermès , the latest men's fragrance by the luxury house, could also be classified under the salty, although it's more mineral than sea-like and has an earthy quality to it that denotes the light touch of the masterful hand of Jean Claude Ellena, a self-proclaimed lover of the salty and bitter.
And soon everyone seemed to be doing salty fragrances: Jo Malone announced the launch of Blue agave and Cacao (news reported here) with notes of cardamom, agave cactus, sea salt and chocolate. Miller Harris came up this May with the new Fleurs de Sel, part of her New Edition collection, inspired by the childhood home of its creator Lyn Harris in Batz sur Mer, which is a village in Brittany located between beaches and salt marshes. Based on the salty facets of vetiver, with mossy and leathery chypre accords it features notes of red thyme oil, rosemary, clary sage, iris nobilis, narcissus, rose, ambrette seed, woods, vetiver, moss, and leather. And of course Bond no.9 wouldn't be left out of the game, giving us on June 1st their newest and very refreshing scent Coney Island, the equivalent of a salt-rimmed glass of frozen margarita for when languorously lounging by the pool with notes of margarita mix (tequila included), melon, guava, cinnamon, chocolate, caramel, musk, vanilla, cedar and sandalwood. For a full review click here.
All in all, this is a promising market and a new trend that is set to get us out of the well-established sweet tooth of the fruity florals and into the more aspiring compositions of slightly weird yet savoury compositions that call upon our summery disposition and our memory of the ocean from which we came. I don't call this a bad sign. Do you?
Top pic is of Faneromeni Beach at Lesvos, Greece, courtesy of Lesvos.gr Bottom pic is painting Waves by Katsushika Hokusai (1831) courtesy of allposters.com
Today is cold and gloomy. And despite all odds, I feel elated, "a little warm in my heart when I think of winter". The meteorologists have predicted the first snow around the area I live in. Although I know I probably won't see any, as I'd have to drive quite a bit to escape the smog that prevents snow to fall, just the thought of the silent, white blanket craddling our hopes and yearnings is enough to make me dream. Winter has always been a favourite time for me for reasons beyond logic. It's an instinctive preference, formed at a very early age. As my mother, firm in her belief that children should brace the cold so as to become sturdy (and I did), took me for a stroll as a toddler in bitter cold along the pier, seeing the angry stormy petrol-green sea splash furiously, the wind on my flushed little face, steel skies towering over me, my hands in woolen mittens, candied apples consumed, I felt happy and strangely at home. That was who I am. The joy of returning to a warm house augmented the pleasure already experienced, to be greeted by an adoring father. Although I am not the person who becomes overjoyed in Christmas for reasons already discussed (much more prefer the Orthodox Easter which is a vastly more mystical and sensual -tied to pagan- celebration in my mind) , winter never fails to make me feel like I was when my feet couldn't touch the ground when I sat on the very armchair I am now sitting cuddling with a good book. And so perfume should follow. Hence a little list of things that bring to my mind all the joys of winter, of love, of "white horses gone ahead".
Quotes and the title come from the lyrics of the trully great, moving song "Winter" by Tori Amos which you can listen to by clicking on the window above (courtesy of Rasberryswirl on Youtube). You can read the lyrics here
Un Bois Vanille by Serge Lutens Who else but Serge and Shledrake could come up with a vanilla that is comforting, rich, smooth, deeply woody and never tacky? Vanilla is such an ubiquitous smell, really, which makes it hard to do properly. This is grown up, but with a wink to our childish aspirations.
L by Lolita Lempicka I had bought a bottle in summer and reviewed it , when it first launched here, but didn't open it for months, relying on samples. Now is the proper time to take the plunge and crack my beautiful bottle open. To me, this is the perfect dark vanilla, with the inclusion of immortelle that adds a salty kiss on warmed skin. Created by Maurice Roucel, responsible for Poison, Musc Ravageur, Farenheit, L'instant and Insolence .
Must by Cartier Best in pure parfum, Must smoulders and entices, unfolding siren notes of civet and amber anchoring narcissus and mandarin. The unexpected green note of the start has a loose-mouthed effect on the rest of the formula. It highlights it, the way the best conversationalists inspire interest by an unwonted beginning.
Fifi by Fifi Chachnil From a french lingerie company, this is lacy knickers in dusty antique rose to wear between fluffy blankets, your hair in loose curls. Sweet blond tobacco and citrus notes clash and couple adoringly, a little soapy element with a swoosh of powder, much like Boudoir by Vivien Westwood is constructed, with copious references to the milkiness of Luten's Fumerie Turque. It has a complex character, lighter than Anne Pliska, that was surprising to me and it is definitely complimended by cold weather, as it smells nothing like it should in the heat (hence my delayed appreciation for it). Thankfully that's one perfume that smells actually better in eau de parfum than parfum/extrait. So, it's also economical!
Muschio e Ambra by L'erbolario This little italian company makes great products of skincare and perfume and has the most nostalgic labels imaginable; they all seem like they have come out of a paintings index. Muschio e ambra tranlsates as musk and amber and has the delightful smell of aged patchouli and slightly bitter fir resin that stays on your skin for hours on end in the eau de parfum.
24 Faubourg by Hermès Because after all the orientals one associates with winter, one would want a rich floral to lift the spirits and immerse oneself in their delicacy. This is like the queen of elegance and it veers on floriental. Rich orange blossom on a smooth amber base, sweet but not sacharine. Imagine yourself draped in thick silk and powdered to perfection, your lips painted in a becoming auburn shade to compliment the dark colouring of the juice. Another Maurice Roucel creation. This is the very elegant, classy projection of a lady. Go for the eau de parfum in winter.
Gucci EDP I by Gucci A nostalgia for great perfumes of the past makes for this thyme, cumin, orange blossom and heliotrope-laced composition that is anchored by vanilla and orris. It smells the way grand dames smelled, but has some air of modernity in there as well, making it a very urban offering for a lady with a hidden side. It proved not to be a big seller for the house, which could be good news (you'll be more unique wearing it) or bad (it will at some point get discontinued), depending on your outlook in life; as with everything else.
Schizm by Ayala Moriel Perfumes You have probably guessed by now that Ayala's natural perfumes have made an impression on me. Besides her very wintery Fκte d'Hiver her more complex, chypré Schizm is exactly what its name alludes to; the duality of woman: it starts peppery and sharp to segue onto floral notes of which the narcottic tuberose prevails, all bedded down in a country road near a forest, leaves trampled underfoot a campfire smelled at the distance. The official notes are: Black pepper, Cedarwood, Mandarin, Tuberose, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Oakmoss, Musk notes, Incense
Angel by Thierry Mugler I am talking about the body cream and not the eau de parfum here. Big vats of nasty chemicals are what many people perceive and yes, I can see why. I am doubtful it contains even one natural ingredient in there. And I know, most of you have either a love-it or hate-it relationship with it, because of its mothballs rolled in toxic caspirene-coumarin aroma of choco-caramel and patchouli. Just try a smidgeon of the body cream. It's all one needs...
Douce Amère by Serge Lutens Bittersweet, more bitter at first, less so after a while, weird like glue, it transports the soul. A mix of cool and warm, it interpolates various moods, that crystallise in one absinthe-liquor prepared the original way, with vanillic sugar on the spoon and everything. If one is melancholic but not really sad, this compliments the mood admirably in the colder season.
Pink Sugar by Aquolina What a glorious candy fair smell that reverts us to childhood all over again? The mega-blast of intense tooth cavity giving sweetness is very intense, so what better time to use just a small bit in the dead of winter? Not to be taken seriously. Caress the inner child!
Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque The complete antithesis of the above mentioned Pink Sugar, for good measure and to prove the schizophrenic tendencies of Perfume Shrine. Not a proper perfume but a room spray that also comes in a candle. Upon spraying the association with tar and birch is overwhelming, so I suggest decanting in a dab bottle to use on one's hands. (it needs a little distance from your face) Dark, deep smokey incense paired with guaiacwood, evoking mustiness and darkness, serenity and centering all in one, rich like Avignon by Comme des Garcons, but with less of a warm feeling, much in the manner of Etro's Messe de Minuit, albeit more wearable.
Painting by Greek painter Nicolaos Gyzis courtesy of eikastikon
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