Lancome Poeme: fragrance review & musings

 

Even after thirty years since the launch of Lancome's Poême ads in glossy magazines, those images with poetic lines and the expressive face of actress Juliette Binoche (well known from The Lovers on the Bridge, Three Colors: Blue, The English Patient and the adaptation of Wuthering Heights), as shot by Richard Avedon, are etched into memory and continue to produce sighs of elation from perfume lovers around the world.

 According to the official launch, "Poême is a scent of contrasts: the icy transparent notes of Blue Himalayan Poppy embrace the intoxicating Desert Datura Flower and warm Vanilla, creating something vibrant, sensual, and long-lasting." At the time, no one had any solid information to doubt perfume blurbs coming from sales assistants. Nowadays the information is so vast and nuanced that it might even kill information. No one would be so trusting now. Instead of blue, the deep crocus-hued yellow of the carton box tells the story. The fragrance smells yellow, sweet, dense — it is mellifluous. The reality is that Poême is a scent choke-full of orange blossoms, honeyed and rich and plush. 

Perfumer Jacques Cavallier Belletrud took a well-known ingredient and skyrocketed its effects with the touch of a true illusionist. Mimosa is also a component that contributes to its plush yet non-carnal effects. 

   "Parfois les mots ne disent pas tout…" — "Sometimes words don't say it all..." 

 Sunny like a warm afternoon spent in the glow of a happy encounter with a loved one. Lyrical like a musical piece floating in the air from a nearby impromptu street orchestra. Delicious the way floral fragrances can be, Lancome's Poême is dense without veering into the saccharine territory of modern fragrances. It's honeyed, dripping with sweetness, yet not the edible kind, rather the nectar hidden under the pollen and the stamen, ripe for harvesting by thick bumblebees, the kind we don't readily see anymore. 

Poême is wildly optimistic and makes me deliriously happy when I can taste it in small quantities, preferably when someone else is wearing it. The inclusion of lactone/ketone notes in a fruity-floral context adds a hint of peach smell to the scent pyramid, while velvety vanilla softens the explosive floral heart and lingers for hours or days on clothes. The hour of the golden encounter is perched in -seeming- eternity. A hint of narcissus and of miniscule spice adds to the fascination.

Penhaligon's The Favourite: fragrance review

The Favourite is the latest fragrance by British brand Penhaligon's and the story behind it is inspiring. It involves as its protagonist Sarah Churchill, the Duchess of Marlborough (who had an intriguing story), and allegedly the favourite of Queen Anne's in 18th century England. They were formidable women, full of inner strength and conflicting passions, which history does not fully gives credit for. The fragrance is not entirely matching to this background, being more delicate and traditionally pretty than anticipated, though that's not necessarily a problem for those intending to wear it. 

An English courtier, Sarah rose to be one of the most influential women of her time through her close friendship with Anne, Queen of Great Britain. Sarah's friendship and were widely known, and leading public figures often turned their attentions to her, hoping for favor from Anne. By the time Anne became Queen, Sarah’s knowledge of government and intimacy with the queen had made her a powerful friend and a dangerous enemy. She was also married to the general John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough, hence her title, so she was accommodated in powerful relations from all sides, one could claim.

photo by Elena Vosnaki

Perhaps the big velours bow in light, sugared almond pink on the bottle is best translating this effect. It's a cloud of fragrance surrounding you with prettiness, light yet persistent, like a ray of sunshine on a warm morning. Innocuous yet pleasant. 

The formula by perfumer Alienor Massenet lies on a fruity floral chord, with an appealing and sunny aspect of what comes off to me as litchi at first. It's beautifully rendered, never too sweet, never air-headed, on the contrary tender and soft and leading to a beautiful garland of violets. These violets walk hand in hand with the rose in the heart; their temperament is balanced and they do not lean either candy-ish, nor vegetal, like violets swathed in their foliage which hides their character into verdancy. The violet-rose combination in The Favourite by Penhaligon's feels like the softest swan down puff for powdering your nose, which is apparently what lots of the ladies and gentlemen of the era were doing. Of course analytical chemistry is what we have to thank for the perceived association of violet molecules, ionones, being considered powdery and smelling cosmetic-like in the last 120 years. But it's a small historical detail that would distract from the ethereal character of The Favourite. The copious musk and mimosa/benzaldehyde components, that bring forth an intimate underground for the floral fruity core, are the finishing trail which reveals it was not all fun and games at the royal court. 

Read more on the Perfume Shrine:

Ionones and the Notes of Violets

Best Violet Fragrances Guide

Top Rose Fragrances & Rose-Scented Products

Mimosa and Cassie: Perfumery Material

Penhaligon's fragrance news & reviews

Providence Perfume Co Ivy Tower: fragrance review

"Wow, this smells like…I've never smells anything like this" or "This doesn't smell like Dolce & Gabban's Light Blue. What do you have that smells like what I usually wear?"are a couple of the whispered comments of customers at the brick & mortar store of Providence Perfume Co, at Providence, RI 02903. I have recently written on the Aesthetic Principle which, like the pleasure principle, should, I believe, lead our choices on fragrances in an increasingly rationed world. And thus I find it pertinent that my review of Ivy Tower should follow it. Here is a green floral that is beautiful, delicate, different and missing the "herbal" component of some all naturals, which to echo its perfumer "doesn't smell like Light Blue and I'm OK with that."

via

Green fragrances are a difficult bunch to render in all natural essences, mainly because the green-smelling materials fall into two groups which each possesses one stumbling block: the natural elements, such as galbanum resin, are either very hard to dose in a composition of all naturals without overpowering the blend (Chanel No.19 and Jacomo Silences are not  perfumes for wussies!) or else are so subtle that they vanish quickly, such as the cucumber-tea note of mimosa blossom.; the more convincing synthetic materials such as cis-3 hexenol with its cut-grass feeling, Ligustral (snapped leaves) and Lilial with its green lily of the valley aura are of course off grounds for a natural perfumer.

Chanel No.19 Poudre tried to reconcile the green monster with the emerald-hued polished nails with the grassy rolling waif in gauzy whites and it presents a modern "temperate" effort that is valiant, if a bit tamed, for the lovers of the original Chanel icon that inspired it. I don't recall many other contemporary fragrances in the delicate greens genre that truly made it (A Scent by Issey Miyake though quite good never met with the success it deserved, Bvlgari's Omnia Green Jade is sorta too tame for its own good), excluding the niche scene for obvious reasons.

So Charna Ethier exhibits skill in rendering a rustic rained upon scene from somewhere north; like a secluded private garden in York, in North Yorkshire, I had once visited, all rainy soaked paths and ivy climbing on stone-walls retaining the rain drops and reflecting them like giant water bubbles that make your bones chill a bit even in the dead of summer. The fragrance of Ivy Tower like those bubbles takes on shades of green, blue, and gentle lilac, depending on where it hits on a warm, blood-pulsing vein and hovers there for a while in the confluence of watery sprites and drowning Ophelias. Eventually it takes on a more customary jasmine, lilies and woodsy notes path, but the journey up to there is dreamy enough to make a heart melt a bit.

Ivy Tower  (green) is part of a new collection of natural perfume oils by all naturals perfumer Charna Ethier of Providence Perfume Co, whose Samarinda has been reviewed on these pages before. The rest of the collection includes Rose 802 (pink), Orange Blossom Honey (orange), Summer Yuzu(yellow), Sweet Jasmine Brown (blue) and Violet Beauregarde (violet). The oils are color coded, which is supremely practical when sampling. The choice of an oil format (admittedly not one of my strong suits as I usually like the abundance effect that an alcohol based format allows) stems from the customer base: people blending essences at Providence's popular perfume bar, citing a desire for portability and longevity. 

The given notes for Ivy Tower by Providence Perfume Co are: jonquil, mimosa, geranium, jasmine, narcissus, blue tansy, lily, sandalwood. Info and purchase at www.providenceperfume.com

In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample by the perfumer for reviewing purposes. 

Ramon Monegal Impossible Iris: fragrance review

Impossible Iris is like those beautiful raven-haired girls with big, sincere eyes that seem to engulf you and creamy, gorgeous skin that shines with the sheen of mother-of-pearl (like Liv Tyler or Anne Hathaway to bring modern examples); there's both a wholesome appeal (in the sense of "non-plastic") and a retro elegance to it all (in the sense their beauty ideal defies tanned, scrubbed, peroxided "nowness").

Iris can be like that, when excellent, with the added artistic bonus of a delectable melancholia that negates all the "shiny happy people" silliness that is pack and parcel of the "plastic" and "nowness" mantra. But iris can also be a fragrance note that can render itself rather too prissy and difficult for its own good; too many times it can be too starchy and earthy-raw (smelling like boiled carrots or turnips) or it can become too dusty or too creepy cold like the tomb (and there's no better reference than the chilly Iris Silver Mist by Lutens if you're after that sort of effect). Perhaps this is why the easiest, most popular iris on the market is Infusion d'Iris by Prada, a smashing best-seller and a modern classic; no guesswork there, the fragrance isn't an iris per se as the name would suggest, it's a sweet woody incense built on benzoin! Other times iris can be tilted into violet-heavy territory (with whom iris shares ionones, molecules with a powdery, dirt/earth feel) and land into Parfums Lingerie, a totally different sort of aesthetic effect, makeup reminiscent rather than upturned garden dirt.

Personally, I like irises, especially woody ones, such as Bois d'Iris by The Different Company and the stupendous Chanel No.19, so testing Impossible Iris wasn't a challenge by any means. Still, it exceeded expectations and has found itself firmly in my perfume rotation which is something when you take into account the jadedness of a seasoned collector.

Ramón Monegal went neither way between chilly or earthy for Impossible Iris, opting for an iris fragrance that is recognizably iris, yet projects with a delicate, mimosa-laced/heather hint of sweetness under the metallic opening; clean, elegant, slightly soapy fresh and very appealing! It's an iris to put you in a good mood, for a change, with subtle floralcy and woodiness in equal measure, if that was possible, with all the prerequisites to make you fall in love with it just as easily as imagining Iris as a girl's name. It stands as the perfect metallic/woody iris to encapsulate and recapitulate all we have come to expect from a prime iris fragrance; there is the delicate, shy beginning with the cool touch, then comes the touch of wooly mimosa with its hint of warmth to smile into the proceedings, while the quiet, bookish woody tonality of the aftermath with its pencil shavings nuance is enough to consolidate it among the richer in nuance irises.

Ramón Monegal has that rare talent: he has taken "difficult" notes (iris, leather as in Mon Cuir, patchouli, as in Mon Patchouly) and rendered editions that transcend the rougher aspects into smoothing them into compliance, making them melt with pleasure under the sprayer and onto the skin...
Gaia, The Non Blonde, found it more floral in the beginning than I did, but we both loved it all the same.

I was impressed with the sillage (it's a perceptible iris that will get you comments, the positive kind) and with its tenacity and I find that though delicate and graceful, it can also be worn by men easily, thanks to its woody background and its slight tinge of fruitiness that adds just enough tart elements in the formula.


Notes for Impossible Iris by Ramon Monegal: Italian iris, Egyptian cassiopiae, framboise, ylang-ylang, Egyptian jasmine, Virginia cedarwood

Impossible Iris is available as Eau de Parfum in a beautiful inkwell bottle of 50ml at Luckyscent.

picture of Liv Tyler via rsmccain.blogspot.com

Perfumery Material: Cassie & Mimosa & Differences with Cassia & Cassis

I well recall seeing farmers collecting gum from the acacia tree for use as gum arabic substitute in Australia years ago, their agile hands working effortlessly. It was a sight to behold, the pom poms of rich yellow cascading down the branches. There is an intimate scent to this little bloom, instilling a sense of longing and nostalgia, the ache from the past we long to go back to.

 In Greece we call acacia "γαζία", especially the saturated Farnesiana variety and it is among my first scented childhood memories, not least because a huge tree grew under our house; the euphonic word matches the rich, intense aroma with its almost boozy, lightly spicy undertone.

The yellow 'mimosas' of the florist shops are actually acacias, as "true mimosas" never have yellow flowers.

Many acacias have fragrant flowers but only two species, Acacia decurrens var. dealbata and A. farnesiana are utilized in perfumery.

 

Cassie, the intimate, animalic essence

Cassie flower absolute is extracted from the flora of the Acacia Farnesiana shrub, itself named after the Villa Farnese where the semi-tropical plant was transplated for ornamental reasons. The plant is named after Odoardo Farnese (1573–1626) of the notable Italian family which under the patronage of cardinal Alessandro Farnese, maintained some of the first private European botanical gardens in Rome, in the 16th and 17th centuries, the Farnese Gardens at Carparola. They later became famous for importing acacia to Italy from the Caribbean and Central America, henceforth the name stuck to the plant.

Known as Cassier du Levant in the South of France, the scent of cassie (from the Acacia farnesiana) is rich in benzaldehyde, anisic aldehyde, and a violet-smelling ketone, rendering the essence sensuous and shadowy fleshy like the contours of a soft feminine body through gauzy garments. It also contains eugenol, methyleugenol, coumarin, cuminaldehyde (giving that intimate tonality), decanal (aldehyde C10), cresol, methyl salicilate and nerolidol. Among floral notes, cassie is perhaps the most overtly womanly and even though it's technically a flower, it's usually classified under anisic smells which might explain how some people find it a difficult note to claim their own in fragrances.

The scent profile of cassie absolute is warm, honeyed, iris-powdery and quite balsamic with a hint of cinnamon, berry and aniseed, combined with a herbaceous floral effect. Its aroma therapeutical properties include help in dealing with stress and depression. It's no accident that in the myth of Isis and Osiris the tree of life has characteristics of the acacia tree. Its bark's smoke has a profylactic use in ancient lore and is used to put the gods in a good mood. Roots and resin from acacia are still combined with rhododendron, acorus, cytisus, salvia and some other components for making incense in Nepal and regions of China.
Favored as a scarce and therefore most valuable perfume ingredient, cassie has been harnessed in several renditions from Caron's Farnesiana to Coty's La Jacée through Creed's Aubepine Acacia, but nowhere is the flesh-like honeyed richness, from bark to thorny stem to sugary-spun blossom, best interpreted than in Dominique Ropion's masterpiece Une Fleur de Cassie for Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle. There the marriage of the exoticism and the animalic, almost bestial warmth of cassie with the more classic jasmine & rose shine into a tapestry where every thread is shining with its own gleam. The fragrance is lush, disturbing, almost too voluptuous. Une Fleur de Cassie also contains the more innocent mimosa absolute, a sweet note counterpointed by spicy carnation, smooth sandalwood and a hint of vanilla.

Mimosa, a cloud of sugar-spun innocence

Mimosa possesses that precious trait of innocence we associate with childhood, the sugar-spun scent close to heliotrope without the almondy nuances, soft like a cloud, dreamy like the first ray of spring sun on the February tree branches, lively and luminous like a promise of happiness. It's interesting to note that mimosa absolute figures highly in recreations of the elusive note of lilac in perfumery and of lily of the valley fragrances. The main constituent in mimosa flowers is farnesol which acts as an insect pheromone. (It's also found in other flowers, such as cyclamen, tuberose, and rose as well as an ingredient in the composition of several balsams and in neroli oil).

Two types of mimosa are most common: Acacia Pycnantha (literally "of dense flowers") is the floral emblem of Australia, while Acacia dealbata (wattle) is a similar b variant often presented to women and refered to as "mimosa"; it's probably what most people associate with mimosa. A variant called mimosa pudica is called "shy plant, because it closes its compound leaves inwards when touched and is in fact a "true" mimosa. Mimosa can be distinguished from the large related genera, Acacia and Albizia, since its flowers have 10 or fewer stamens.

Common Confusions

Silk Tree is often erroneously referred to as "mimosa", but in reality it is a different tree with brightly pink flowers with thread-like stamens in the shape of a Spanish fan belognging in the Albizia genus.You can get a sense of the scent of silk tree if you smell Dior's best-selling feminine perfume J'Adore.
Cassia and cassis, though linguistically close to cassie, have nothing to do with it. Cassia is a spicy note coming from the Cinnamonum cassia, while cassis refers to a synthetically recreated berry-lychee perfumers' "base" much used in 1980s and American perfumery with a nod to blackcurrant buds (bourgeons de cassis in French). You can smell lots of the latter in Lancome's Poeme and in Tiffany for women by Tiffany.

Fragrances with a notable cassie/mimosa note (with distinction on which uses which essence when unclear from the name):

Acca Kappa Mimosa
Annick Goutal Le Mimosa
Ayala Moriel Les Nuages de Joie Jaune
Calypso Christiane Celle Mimosa
Caron Farnesiana (cassie)
Chanel No.5 (mimosa)
Creed Aubepine Acacia
Czech & Speake Mimosa
DSH Perfume Mimosa 
Estée Lauder Private Collection (cassie)
Fragonard Mimosa
Frederic Malle Une Fleur de Cassie
Givenchy Amarige (mimosa)
Givenchy Amariage Harvest Mimosa 2005
Givenchy Amarige Harvest Mimosa 2007
Givenchy Amarige Harvest Mimosa 2009
Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Tiare Mimosa
Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Grosellina (cassie)
Guerlain Après L’Ondée (cassie)
Guerlain Champs Elysées (mimosa)
Hermès Calèche Fleurs de Méditerranée
Hermès Kelly Calèche (mimosa)
Halle Berry Halle (mimosa)
L'Artisan Parfumeur Mimosa pour Moi
L'Erbolario Mimosa
L'Occitane Voyage en Mediterranee Mimosa de l'Esterel
Molinard Les Fleurs: Mimosa
Patricia de Nicolai Mimosaique
Shiseido Zen (mimosa)
Yves Rocher Pur Desir de Mimosa

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Travel Memoirs Grasse, France & the Route de Mimosa

Credits: window overlooking acacia via journal.illuminatedperfume.com, acacia pic via bestgarden.gr, Villa Farnese via gardenvisit.com, bottle via luxe-psychologies.fr

Maria Candida Gentile Hanbury: fragrance review

The mouillettes by Maria Candida Gentile have been lying on my desk for several weeks now, aromatizing the air with their delicious mélange, making me nostalgise about the mystical splendor of wintertime Venice. They all speak in mellifluous voices that you really want to follow into the echoing cobblestone alleyways, over the silent canals. Hanbury, arguably the most immediately feminine among the niche line, presented with no sex barriers, exudes the uniques of Calycanthus praecox, one of the few flowers in blossom during winter time in the North of Italy. (Indeed its other name Chimonanthus literally means "winter flower" in Greek)

Honeyed, rich, with an intimacy that is reminiscent of early childhood games discovering one's sensuality, due to mimosa's sweet muskiness, it nevertheless stands a little apart from both other calycanthus fragrances (Santa Maria Novella, Acca Kappa) or cassie ones (Une Fleur de Cassie, Farnesiana). Hanbury is its own thing, a staggering vista of a Mediterranean garden; sweetly citrusy on top, lushly floral and nectarous in the heart, wonderfully understated and elegant in its base.

The name of the fragrance derives from The Hanbury Villa in the northern Italy city of Ventimiglia, which lies by the blue sea that has seen pirates and sailors crossing it for millenia. As if it smiled through it all, its garden grows beautiful mimosas that scatter the landscape with yellow pop-pops of joy at the drawing of each winter into spring. The charming Dorothy Hanbury still gathers the flowers for precious essences production.

Signora Gentile uses a very high ratio of natural essences as a perfumer, no doubt thanks to her Grasse training which coaxes perfumers into appreciating the palette of superb materials produced there. These are vibrant, quality materials which bring on what the human nose can only recognize as richness, opulence, lushness and this is evident in her whole line, from the balmy woody amber of Sideris, to the spicy decadent rose of Cinabre all the way to the light-hearted vagabond heart with leathery nuances of Barry Linton, inspired by Thakeray's character. These fragrances shimmer and present rounded, masterful portraits, as if lighted from within.

The intensely femme blend of Hanbury, poised on mimosa and calycanthus, is taking honeyed facets, with a sprinkling of sweet hesperidic top notes and a tiny caramelic note, softly balsamic, kept in check by the deliriously happy, clean essence of neroli. Hanbury keeps the floral element into a lightly musky sostenuto, which persists for a very long time on the skin; almost as long as a Med garden is in bloom.

Notes for Maria Candida Gentile Hanbury:
top: lime, bitter orange and orange
middle: mimosa and white honey
base: musk and benzoin

M.C.G. besides her fine fragrances sold at her online shop is the creator of some really exclusive and rare fragrances. Among them the Pinede des Princes for princess Caroline of Monaco; the La Posta Vecchia signature fragrance for one of the oldest and most acclaimed hotels in Italy; Satine, a custom blend for the yacht of Tarak Ben Ammar (first president of free Tunisia) and a custom fragrance for the Eco del Mare resort.

pic via hortusitalicus.blogspot.com

Sonoma Scent Studio Nostalgie: fragrance review

Once upon a time women wore corselets & real silk chemises underneath their tailored dresses to work, painted their lips deep pink or coral and coiffed their hair à la choucroutte on a regular basis, before straight "blow outs" became the standard of westernised grooming. There was something equally mischievous and disciplined about their demeanor, reflected in their perfumes; as if beneath all the gentility and pronounced good manners there harbored untold family skeletons in the closet, secret trysts in the afternoon and a gambling streak hiding as socializing. Something is deeply attractive about that contradiction, not least because Mad Men made us believe so, thanks to stylisation to the point of art. It paid; not only people are hooked on 1960s fashion, they're hooked on 1960s-smelling perfumes as well, it seems. And here is where Sonoma Scent Studio Nostalgie comes into play.


Style & Comparison with Other Fragrances
Do you recall the opening of Van Cleef & Arpel's First? Everything denoting luxury, power, femininity, class and wealth was added into producing that powerhouse last-of-the-McAldehic clan; a fragrance as shimmery as the brightest yellow sapphires, as frothy as the sparkliest bubbly in iced flutes, as melodious as Jenny Vanou singing Dawn's Minor Key. I was instantly transported in those times, back when First's precious metal wasn't somewhat tarnished due to reformulations, upon testing Nostalgie. Laurie Erickson, the indie perfume behing\d that small outfit, Sonoma Scent Studio, operating off the Haldsburg hills in California, US,  managed to produce an old-school floral aldehydic quite apart from the mass; as she says "fragrances today are rarely composed with so many fine naturals". Nostalgie smells more expensive than it is (it recalls  Patou's classic Joy in the mid-section, with more woody accents), is full of vibrancy and came to me like a messenger of good news when the day has been nothing but gloom and no hope can be visible in the horizon.

Scent Description
The aldehydes are adding citrusy, waxy sparkle in Nostalgie but they're a bit toned down compared to classics such as Chanel No.5, with fine soapy overtones; an impression further enhanced by the discernible jasmine sambac. The peach lactone in the heart provides a retro vibe; lactonic florals have been byword for refined and graceful perfumery for many decades in the middle of the 20th century. The floral notes, ringing as wonderfully bright as little taps on a glockenspiel, are tightly woven together to present a tapestry of hundreds of tiny dots which, like in pointillism, seen from a distance blur into a delightful image.
The jasmine-rose-mimosa accord is classic (Guerlain Après L'Ondée, Caron Fleurs de Rocaille, Lauder Beautiful) and here treated as seen through a sheer green-woody veil. Erickson treats aldehydes with sleight of hand, as proven previously in her Champagne de Bois, but her every new release at Sonoma Scent Studio is more sophisticated than the last; I find more technical merit in Nostalgie.
The base of Nostalgie is all billowy softness, like most of the latest SSS fragrances, falling on a fluffy duvet, with subtle leathery nuances (probably from the mimosa absolute itself) and a musky-creamy trail which is delicious. However the aldehydic floral element is at no moment completely lost (if you're seriously aldehydic-phobic that might present a problem; if you're an "AldeHo" as Muse in Wooden Shoes calls it, you're all set). It is both long-lasting and drooling trail-worthy; it's parfum strength after all. This is a scent to get you noticed and to be asked what perfume you're wearing.

"Nouveau Vintages": A Trend to Watch
Aldehydic florals and retro "floral bouquets" (as opposed to soliflores which focus on one main flower in their composition) are knowing quite a resurgence, both in indie perfumers' catalogues (witness the stunningly gorgeous Miriam by Tauer Tableau de Parfums line, Aftelier's Secret Garden and DSH Vert pour Madame) and in niche brands, such as the divine Divine's L'Ame Soeur. It was about time; one gets a kick of fun out of something as frothingly tongue-in-cheek and sweet as Prada Candy perfume, but there are times when fragrance stops being an inside joke and should get its pretty rear down and start smelling ladylike & grown-up. In that frame, this rush of vintage-inspired fragrances is heartening. Nostalgie is part & parcel of this "nouveau vintages" clan and at the same time winks with the familiar Mad Men innuendo. Applause!

Notes for SSS Nostagie:
Aldehydes, Indian jasmine sambac absolute, Bulgarian rose absolute, mimosa absolute, peach, violet flower, violet leaf absolute, tonka bean, French beeswax absolute, natural oakmoss absolute, aged Indian patchouli, East Indian Mysore sandalwood, leather, vanilla, orris, myrrh, vetiver, and musk.

Available at the Sonoma Scent Studio fragrance e-shop.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Sonoma Scent Studio fragrances

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent a sample directly by the perfumer.
Photo of Greek actress Melina Mercouri at the Kapnikarea on Hermes Street, Athens, Greece in the early 1960s.

Annick Goutal Le Mimosa: fragrance review

For a lover of mimosa, spoiled on the honeyed powdery facets of Caron's Farnesiana or the cassie-rich musky-animalic meowing of Une Fleur de Cassie (F.Malle), Goutal's take on the yellow pom-pom flowers seems anaemic and watery; too innocent, too puerile, too fleeting... In fact, if you're looking for a "true" mimosa (like the one by L'Artisan Parfumeur Mimosa pour Moi with its violet and milky undercurrent) you will be crestfallen.

The mimosa blossom is a sign of spring hope, nature's awakenings, blooming as it does all bright yellow and proud in the end of winter and decorating the countryside with its shady branches that are carrying hundreds of yellow fluffy little bundles of joy; childlike, optimistic, bursting with energy and sweet smiles. Composed of the absolute of mimosa, a hint of iris, peach and white musks, the Goutal take on this floral scent evokes a delicate and subtle sweetness. (See also Calèche Fleurs de Méditerranée by Hermès for a fine rendition)

The impression of Annick Goutal's Le Mimosa is nevertheless much more of a soft, fuzzy peachy note that overimposes itself over a Johnson's chamomille shampoo and clean orange blossom accord, the latter dominating the heart of the composition. Curiously enough, the (natural) mimosa absolute raw material is there (indeed it shares facets with the above, plus anisic nuances), so this is definitely an aesthetic choice; probably in line with the intended coherence inside the Goutal soliflores line. Perfumer Isabelle Doyen and Camille Goutal (Annick's daughter in charge of the house now) envisioned a soliflore that is ethereal, much like the other soliflores in their line-up (Des Lys, Le Jasmin, Le Cheuvrefeuille etc.). Eau de Charlotte already a good dosage of mimosa as well. They were also thinking of the audience who buy Petite Chérie and Quel Amour by the bucketload, apparently. Clearly I am not among them, preferring the intensity of Passion or Grand Amour, yet I can understand the need to play around a material which is almost emblematic of France and Grasse [Follow my route along the mimosa road on this link]. Le Mimosa is not entirely without merit.

Annick Goutal Le Mimosa is available at Annick Goutal stockists from February 2011 onwards. It was announced as a limited edition. The bottle takes on a polka-dot ribbon in yellow and black for the occasion.

Notes for Annick Goutal Le Mimosa:
bergamot, anise, mimosa absolute, iris, peach, white musk, sandalwood

Painting by Greek painter Knostantinos Parthenis, The Apotheosis of Athanassios Diakos, c.1933

Annick Goutal Mimosa: new fragrance

Annick Goutal’s ‘Le Mimosa’ is the newest entry in the world of the esteemed brand's soliflores line, which included Le Jasmin, La Violette, Des Lys, La Muguet, Neroli, Rose Absolue and Le Chèvrefeuille (Soliflores are fragrances based around the scent of a single flower; technically mixed with other essences, but aiming to highlight the blossom's character).

Mimosa stands as the first mocking of spring into the face of winter, as the branches start to yellow as early as February. In Grasse and the Riviera, the Mimosa Trail is a supremely memorable drive, scattered with local festivals and picturesque events.
The many perfumery's takes on mimosa include such classics as the warmly honeyed Mimosaique by Patricia de Nicolai, the milky-kittenish Mimosa pour Moi by L'Artisan Parfumeur, the intensely euphoric Farnesiana by Caron, as well as the reissued Hermès Calèche Fleurs de Méditerranée with its unusual violet leaf or the extreme of the laundred clean musks of Czech & Speake's Mimosa.
The yellow pom-pom blossom isn't a stranger in the Annick Goutal line, as Eau de Charlotte puts it to good effect against a constrast of cocoa and blackcurrant jam.
Goutal's new Le Mimosa nevertheless will include greener, sweet notes of mimosa flanked by the soft fruity satin of peach, the milky warmth of sandalwood and the powdered notes of iris.
Le Mimosa comes in the house’s emblematic fluted “gadroon” bottle, this time adorned with a bow of black polka dots on a yellow ribbon.
The fragrance will make its debut in the market in March 2011.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Travel Memoirs Grasse-hopers part 1 and part 2

pic via osmoz

Grasse-hoppers part2: tour highlights & raw materials draw!

Reflecting upon Grasse and the Côte d'Azur I find myself in an embarrassment of riches: Is it the Notre-Dame-de-Puy cathedral with its paintings by Rubens that I retain most dearly in my heart or the sweeping hill-top view to La Plaine des Roses where hundreds of roses are attentively cultivated for their precious nectar? Or is the afternoon sunshine that poored through the windows of our dilapidated old building, one among the many in the old town, making the ochre and Venetian-sienna-shaded walls come alive four hundred years after the original stones had been lain? The quaint, small region of Grasse, awash with both aromata of fine perfumery and diesel fumes of the traffic of the greater area, as well as the larger town of Cannes, are like two faded princesses retaining their past memories hidden into the corners of dusty rooms where old, yellowed letters of paramours were carefully tucked away in secret drawers.

Semi-rural but devoid of a matching atmosphere, Grasse especially is less romantic than anticipated, yet for the eternal student of both perfumery and culture it poses its own special challenges that seem none the less rewarding. Delving into the perfumery firms and factories through trusted connections is the best lesson of them all and I am glad I am able to offer an unprecedented gift for our readers: A Sampler of Raw Materials procured in the Grasse area for one lucky reader who will state their interest in the comments. Thus, we’re giving everyone a chance for pedagogical familiarization with the inner workings of fine perfumery. I trust you will appreciate the novelty of the offer!

photo by Elena Vosnaki

But to revert to mapping out the rich experiences that the Riviera holds, one is at a loss on what to enumerate. Grasse holds a privileged spot, a few kilometers north of Pégomas, past Aurbeau-sur-Siagne and only a 20-minute ride from Cannes. The production of leather goods during the Renaissance took place principally in Montpellier, a town famous for its tanneries, which was closely rivaling Grasse. However it was only the later that rose to perfumery through the habit of scenting gloves and leather goods with floral essences from the abundant-producing area so as to dissipate the strong, pungent smells of the hides. Although initially Catherine de Medici, proud of her hands and a fan of leather gloves to protect them, ordered products from local artisans, it was Marie de Médicis (1575-1642), queen consort, who ~lured by perfumes from Cyprus, the famous chyprés~ sent for her Florentine perfumer Tombarelli to come to Grasse, where the flowers were renowned, instructing him to capture their ambience in perfumed essences. It was thus that Grasse knew a rebirth in economical terms and became The Perfume Capital ever since the 18th century thanks to the mild climate and the protected, sheltered embrace of the hills around.

The mimosa which garlands the area in late winter and early spring is perhaps the most famous of the local flora, imported originally by Captain James Cook from Australia and soon a favourite with the British aristocracy for their villas at Cannes. Queen Victoria herself used to sojourn at the Grande Hotel Grasse, a beautiful white building that is now referred to as Palais Provençal. Jasmine, a key ingredient of many perfumes and famously the culprit in the conception of Chanel No.5 by Ernest Beaux, was brought to the South of France by the Moors in the 16th century. Even though reputation has it that several tons of jasmine are harvested in the area still, the vines were not in bloom yet and even so the notorious Grasse jasmine is used in minute quantities in only the extraits of some prestigious perfumes. The 1860 construction of the Siagne canal for irrigation purposes is aiding the preservation of both these and (the very sparse) tuberoses fields. Wild lavender, as well as tamer varieties, grow around the area; hand-harvested selectively and distilled producing an exceptional aromatic oil. The town is awash with local aromata of various origins: In the lively market at La Place aux Herbes, Provençal herbs (rosemary, thyme, estragon), carrots and lettuces are sold by the kilo, tempting you into buying a little of each. Even the very area code of Grasse, 06130, has found its way into the name of a niche perfume brand, parfums Zero Six Cent Trente by local enterpreuneur Nicolas Chabert.

photo by Elena Vosnaki

Nevertheless, today oils and essences for both fragrancing & flavouring come from around the world finding their way into Grasse and not one but four establishments dedicated to perfume touring grace its streets: The International Museum of Perfume and the parfumeries de Fragonard (with its own small museum), Molinard and Galimard. Besides those, there are factories of Mane, Robertet and Firmenich which operate producing their own products.

VISIT HIGHLIGHTS & GUIDE

Musée International de la Parfumerie

(International Museum of Perfumery) is located at 2 Boulevard du Jeu de Ballon, 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 8020
info@museesdegrasse.com (Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct-May: 10a-12:30p, 2p-5:30p W-M.)
Reopened in 2008 (it was originally inaugaurated in 1989), with a futuristic interior designer by Frédéric Jung, the Museum encompasses a large area that is best savoured slowly. The “scented” video screening is the most tourist-attracting but it is the presentation of plants used in the perfume industry which presents the most interest. Roaming amidst the exhibits that included thousands of pieces of scented memorabilia and beautiful bottles in every material imaginable, we’re struck by the travelling grooming essentials of fated Marie-Antoinette or the Japanese Koh-Do ritual utensils (Koh-Do is an ancient Eastern game involving smoking incense being passed to the participants)

Fragonard Parfumeur

BP 22060 1er Etage de l'Usine Historique
20 boulevard Fragonard 06132 Grasse
Phone : +33 (0)4 92 42 34 34
Email : fragonard@fragonard.com
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p

Molinard perfumery

60, boulevard Victor Hugo, 06130 Grasse
Tel: +33 4 9336 0162
Email: tourisme@molinard.com,france@molinard.com
Visiting hours: Oct-May: 9a-12:30p, 2p-6p M-Su, Jun-Sep: 9a-6:30p M-Su.

Parfumerie Galimard

73 route de Cannes - 06131 Grasse
Tél : 04.93.09.20.00 Fax : 04.93.70.36.22
International: Tél : +33.4.93.09.20.00 Fax : +33.4.93.70.36.22
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p

The Fragonard, Galimard and Molinard perfume factories offer free guided tours with multi-lingual options (including Russian and Japanese) while lush, floral scents fill the atmosphere with their delicious aroma. One is invited to watch part of the production and packaging process of the eaux de toilette, perfumes and surprisingly refined soaps first-hand, while the old perfumery equipment and several collectible bottles are also on display. The gift shops are awash with products at advantageous prices, if only a little pushy sales assistants, as is customary into tourist places. The Fragonard perfumery was founded by Eugene Fuchs paying tribute to local artists family, the Fragonards. Today the remains of the old factory are visited, while the production area has been transplated outside the city.
Molinard worked with Baccarat and René Lalique who widely contributed to the House's reputation with sober and elegant scent bottles for their first "soliflores" perfumes (jasmine, rose, violet). But in 1930 René Lalique created exclusive flacon designs for the House of Molinard and this saw the conception of the prestigious bottles such as "Iles d’Or", "Madrigal", or "Le baiser du Faune". Yet say Molinard and everyone recalls their exceptional tobacco oriental "Habanita", meaning "little girl of Havana".
Parfumerie Galimard on the other hand was founded by Jean de Galimard, Lord of Seranon, (a relation of Count de Thorenc and friend of Goethe), in 1747. Founder of the corporation of "Maitres Parfumeurs et Gantiers” (Glovemakers and Perfumers), he supplied the court of Louis " the well-beloved ", King of France, with olive oil, pomades, and perfumes of which he invented the first formulae. Their products still retain a charming rural air.

photo by Fragonard

La Villa-Musée Jean-Honoré Fragonard

23 boulevard Fragonard 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 0161/+33 4 9705 5800
Email: info@museesdegrasse.com
Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct & Dec-May: 10a -12.30p, 2p-5.30p W-M

A villa turned into a museum, not to be confused with the Fragonard perfumery, this charming place buried amidst tall palm trees pays homage to three generations of Fragonards: Jean-Honoré, the father; his sister-in-law Marguerite Gérard; his son Alexandre-Évarisre; and grandson Théophile. The most famous, painter Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806) ~whom you surely know through The Swing and Young Girl Reading~ is omnipresent through a copy of his work The Progress of Love originally rejected by the Duchess du Barry and now residing in New York City. The style of his paintings, French, elegant and erotic, is well transported into the Fragonard perfumes and scented goods as well, all lively and bursting with joie de vivre!

Robertet essences producing company

Established in 1850, Robertet counts itself among the oldest perfumeries in Grasse, but their creations are thoroughly modern as well, having created scents for Gucci, Bond No.9 and L’Oreal. Still, it is their high-quality raw materials which made them the stuff of legend among perfume cognoscenti. Earthy treemoss, iris rootlets, animalic beeswax, vanilla from Madagascar orchids, Amazonian tonka beans, champaca from India, and maté from Brazil produce an intoxicating blend of earthly delights enough to make the head spin. The refining process which happens repeatedly until the finest grade of raw material is attainable (especially when rendering absolute oils out of waxy concretes off precious flowers such as jasmine) can be customized to the client. It is here that the fractionizing of certain oils happens, such as patchouli where some of the headier more hippie-like facets are subtracted; thus the perfumer can custom the essence to their needs (For instance they might want more of the naturally chocolate-reminiscent facets emphasized or the more camphoraceous ones and so on). Among the loveliest of the raw materials here is the iris absolute: Initially herbaceous and almost medicinal, heavy and full of the earthy accent of the soil, it soon attains a woody and powdery prolonged skin-like effect. Roots can be left unpeeled to produce “iris noir” or they can be peeled to make a pale-shaded concrete (waxy substance) which is then refined through solvents into the absolute oil.
I was surprised to learn that iris is currently customarily paired with red berries; not only in perfumery such as in Insolence by Guerlain but also in the flavouring business, as it enhances and prolongs the tang of the berries! Even though originally perfumery iris best grade came from Florence, Italy, a variety known as Iris pallida, today different species come from Morocco and China (much like jasmine does) with shorter maturation periods lowering down the production cost. The original Italian iris needed a long careful harvesting of the rootlets, a drying out phase of a fortnight followed by three year period of maturation resulting in stratosperic prices.

photo by Elena Vosnaki

The Firmenich perfumery branch in Grasse

Firmenich technicians and perfumers seem to favour the CO2 extraction process, also referred to as "supercritical fluid extraction" process; technologically speaking the most advanced method of oil production of them all, resulting in stunningly realistic essences such as pepper, heady tuberose or earthy carrot seeds. Carbon dioxide usually behaves as a gas or as a solid called "dry ice" when frozen. When the temperature and pressure are both increased, the material takes new properties behaving as a "supercritical fluid" ~above its critical temperature (31.1 °C) and critical pressure (72.9 atm/7.39 MPa)~ expanding to fill its container like a gas but with a density like that of a liquid. Supercritical CO2 is used as a perfect solvent due to its role in chemical extraction in addition to its low toxicity and environmental impact, but in what concerns perfumery it's the relatively low temperature of the process and the stability of CO2 which allows most compounds to be extracted with little damage or denaturing.
The white-coat lab technicians work silently for an array of products including detergents and cosmetics scents, while on the second floor where the fine perfumery is located people write up formulae up in their computer for the printed data to be given to laboratory assistants for the blending, before perfumers step in to evaluate and adjust. It’s a fascinating process, not to be missed if you have any sort of access!

For our readers, a sampler set of precious raw materials of fine perfumery is offered for a draw! Please leave a comment if you wish to enter. Submissions are open till Monday 3rd May 9pm.

Related reading: Read the rest of the Perfume Pilgrimage to the Riviera in part 1.

Perfumed Pilgrimage: Grasse-hoppers part1

Discovering the secret charms of the Riviera, never more attractive than during the fall of the last cool days into rampant warm spring, is akin to a pilgrimage to some scented god shrine. The Parisian sidewalks might well be heaving under the weight of fragrant offerings by posh and less posh boutiques, but nothing beats the sheer thrill of nature red in tooth and claw. Trailing the small towns and villages that spot the map of the Côte d'Azur and beyond in the throes of spring is an experience that everyone interested in fragrance and beauty should indulge in.

The medieval houses amidst the flowering vines reflect the shades of the sunset ~ochre, vermillon and purple~ and gracefully contrast with the deep azure of the Mediterranean sea which brings on its own special aromatic blend of iodine, salty spray and maritime pines to the places that are wetted by its waters.
Even though it's preferable to veer off the beaten track, especially where hordes of tourists litter the paysage with their visually jarring presence, one can't escape following a time-honoured path, that of the Route de Mimosa (known as The Mimosa Road), an inter-village mimosa-celebrating trail of 130km/80miles of drive-and-stop-along-the-sights, crossing 8 famous stopover cities, starting from fittingly named Bormes-les-Mimosas through Le Rayol-Canadel, Sainte Maxime, Saint Raphaël, Mandelieu la Napoule, Tanneron, Pégomas and Grasse, with a side-tour of Cannes. Until the first days of April, literally millions of downy flowers fragrance the hills and valleys of this region, rendering it a golden feast for both eyes and nose; the sugar-spun scent of mimosa (an acacia species), persistent and entracing, mixed with the tannic aroma of cork oaks and dry Provençal herbs. It's hard to resist thinking how magnificent a ready-made perfume composed of exactly those aromata would be!

The blooming town of Bormes-les-Mimosas at the arms of the Maures mountains, is slumbering and small, as befitting something out of a Flaubert story of provincial doctors and their bored housewives searching for that transporting romance to no avail.

Missing as we did the festivities of January and February (according to our tour leaflet, available at every port of call), the main attraction was the Pépinières Cavatore, a surprisingly quaint nursery bursting under the variety of mimosa plants grown: Over a hundred varieties make for an embarassement of riches, whetting our appetite for more. The answer seems to be Les Jardins du Domaine du Rayol, situated in Rayol-Canadel-sur-Mer, offering a unique vista from the ravined mountain terrain down to the Var coastline, connecting the gardens with the beach via the monumental Pateck staircase following the Art Nouveau style of decoration of the 1920s, leading up to Le Rocher du Drapeau (Flag Rock). Unfortunately, today only the central part of the stairs remains intact. Local lore wants the steps to be the connector between Heaven and Hell and if the swarms of tourists are anything to go by it can certainly ring true to my ears! But, slightly detached as I am most of the time, I still managed to rub the leaves of the vine garlanding the pergola between finger and thumb, to leave a fragrant imprint of this magnificent spot in my mind.
But the garden delights never end: Sainte Maxime boasts its own Jardin des Myrtes, with a lovely three-star hotel tucked in that little pocket of land (Parc des Myrtes, 83120 Ste-Maxime, France). In Greek mythology myrtle is sacred. Pausanias explains that one of the Graces in the sanctuary at Elis holds a myrtle branch because “the rose and the myrtle are sacred to Aphrodite and connected with the story of Adonis (Aphrodite's lover), while the Graces are of all deities the nearest related to Aphrodite.” At the Roman festivity of Veneralia, women bathed wearing crowns woven of myrtle branches, the plant also participating in wedding rituals. Throughout the Mediterranean, myrtle symbolises love and immortality. A local tavern (with an owner of Corsican extraction) after a hearty meal of coq au vin and snails in onion and tomato sauce treated us to mirto rosso fino, a digestive liqueur made of myrtle, its bittersweet taste redolent of the aromatic heart of this ever-present plant.
Loquat trees, present in several yards, are also burdening under the weight of the fruits, already gleaming even under the slightly overcast skies. And of course the sweet smell of lilac coinciding with Easter, evoking its Greek name: Paschalia (pa-scha-leeA).

The very idea of medieval gardens was pleasuring all five senses, like the Persian paradeisos a cloistered alcove of erthy delights. [Roman de la Rose de Guillaume de Lorris (13th century) and le Dit du vergier by Guillaume de Machaut (15th century)] These gardens often included a viridarium (the Roman pleasure garden), a pomarium (orchard) and a herbarium; the latter taking the form of a jardin de plantes médicinales (medicinal plants garden) or more affectionately called le jardin secret (hortus conclusus), a secret garden. The mostly Arab-derived concept came through Toledo and Seville, Spain and on to Montpellier, France. Italian style gardens's elements ("humanist"-called, because there is no seperation between artificial garden and environment) also enter the scene through the glorification of a theatrical mise-en-scène.

Luckily for us Le Corniche d’Or (Golden Ledge) coastal road, which runs between St.Raphaël and Cannes, with the Roman coastal town of Fréjus on the west, was quieter and breathtaking, the road dipping between rocks, literally "licking" the sea and its deserted beaches. The volcanic scenery with the rocky inlets of Le Trayas made me think of the rough mountaineous solace of Grenouille as depicted in the film Perfume, Story of a Murderer (never mind the film was actually shot in Spain): Can an abundance of stimuli become too much, too exerting on one's own system, so that the only refuge would be a red cove under the cool shade? The feeling of being far removed from everything fills one's soul, nostrils aflare to catch the painfully precious air of solitude. And how can the porphyric lava, much like in the island of Santorini in Greece, can account for such a fertile, yielding soil?

Mandelieu-la-Napoule, termed the mimosa-capital is the beginning of the way to the Massif de Tanneron, where early spring has the slopes covered into a forest of yellow pom-poms. The area, not coincidentally, comprises the largest mimosa forest in Europe. So prevalent is the mimosa in this area that in Pégomas we are informed that there is a Miss Mimosa pageant at the end of January! If one has time, the small resorts of Anthéor, Agay and Boulouris are also worthwhile visits which we reserve for next time. The bigaradiers, full of orange blossoms that are shedding petals like a carnival parade throwing confetti at the gentlest gust of the wind, aromatize the air as we pass, the refreshing, joyous smell a welcoming salutation for weary wanderers. The picturesque village of Tanneron seems like some fairy godmother has magically placed it on top of the hills, hanging there till the end of days, comprised of humble-looking hamlets for the most part.

In late March and April there are also plenty of wisterias, their powdery spicy scent trail perceivable several meters before the eye confirms what the nose knows. The purple grappes hang from the stems like grapes and tempting the birds that catch petals and small branches with their beaks in order to make their nests. Scattered around the perimeter are the so-called "forceries", barns or rather workshops in which nature is coaxed into calculated submission: the yet greenish branches in bud are cut and forced into the mimoseries, long troughs of steaming spring water, whereon the mimosa is thrown to encourage it to open, we're told. There seems no need to speak of coaxing when the mimosa season is almost over, yet the very idea of producing flowers that will end up being sold at the big flower markets of Nice. The preservation of the flowers so they don't wilt in the interim is a work that requires a lot of attention and specialized techniques. One of them, which I was surprised to learn and am sharing with you now, is crushing a baby aspirin in a glass of water and adding it to the water of the flower vases!

To be continued in Part 2

Pics by Elena Vosnaki, Black & White Le Nu Provençal, Gordes (1949) by Willy Ronis

Tocadilly by Rochas: fragrance review

There is a French expression "mettre en valeur" which roughly translates as to highlight, to draw attention to one's best features. This is what Tocadilly by Rochas does; an ethereal scent that highlights the flowers of spring I love ~lilac, wisteria and mimosa~ beautifully, yet transcends the genre of floral. The feeling I get, when I sort this out of my perfume wardrobe at the first hints of spring, is just like the interplay of cool and warm one experiences upon imprinting their breath "fog" on a wet window pane.

Tocadilly by Marcel Rochas is a floral which launched in 1997 amidst a sea of aquatics and marines. It was said that it represents the younger sister of Tocade, an intensely rosy vanillic fragrance by Maurice Roucel from 1994, yet I do not perceive the kinship of spirit that should tie them in such a close relationship. They both have the same design of flacon, nevertheless, created by bottle designer Serge Mansau; but to Tocade's red packaging hues Tocadilly conterpoints blue-green-purple tones and the aura of the scent is complimentary.
Perfumer Christopher Sheldrake (currently at Chanel) is best known for his oeuvre under the wing of Serge Lutens composing a sumptuous line of persuasive orientals and opulent florals. In Tocadilly those preconceptions are shed and Sheldrake reveals a light, lacy touch that is capable of creating diaphanous effects which do not lack staying power or diffusion. The composition is segmentated into interesting facets of aqueous, fruity, floral and lightly ambery-powdery, fusing into a playful, cheerful and tender composition that is above all soft.

Three years before the modern aqueous lilacs of En Passant (2000), realised by Olivia Giacobetti for éditions des parfums Frédéric Malle, Tocadilly had captured this unholy allience between "clean" and "dirty" (Lilacs naturally have an anisic spiciness/powderiness recreated through anisaldehyde and heliotropin in fragrances, as extraction is so uneconomical/unyielding*; yet they often also possess an animalic undercurrent like pollen dusted on impolite feminine parts, especially the mauve-tinged blooms). The watery impression of Tocadilly is less "marine" than En Passant and the yeasty note is absent completely, rendering a must-try for both lovers and haters of En Passant.
The unusual pear note comes from the flavour industry and was contemporarily explored in Annick Goutal's Petite Chérie. Yet in Tocadilly it's not as easily decomposed and the absence of intense sugary lappings helps along, focusing instead on the almost pollen-like aroma of wisteria and lilacs. The mimosa is detectable ~and delectable, providing the emotional foil for the overall spring-like tonality which runs through the fragrance. Yet one would be hard pressed to designate Tocadilly to any particular season. It's utterly friendly and wearable in almost all settings and all climates, easing itself with an insouciant shrug of the shoulders and a child-like innocence that's not without a little mischief.

Notes for Rochas Tocadilly:
Top: cucumber, lilac, hyacinth, pear, jasmine, tiare, wisteria, mallow, mimosa and mandarin.
Heart: glycine/wisteria, coconut and heliotrope.
Base: sandalwood, musk and amber.

Sadly discontinued, Tocadilly is still available online.

*There is a fragrance that is purpotedly using a natural extraction of the flower itself, Highland Lilac of Rochester, to which we will return soon.

Photo Dreams and Cookies II via meren.org. Lilacs shot by PerfumeShrine, all rights reserved.