Etat Libre d'Orage Exit the King: fragrance review

 When Etat Libre d'Orange introduced Exit the King as a soapy fragrance to the perfume loving crowd it was lost upon the majority that the tale derived from not Shakespeare, but a surrealist play of the same name by Ionesco.

open rose peonies kleenexArabia on X via pinterest

From the feeling of well-being in classical times (when people used a mix of ashes and olive oil) to the purification concept in later Christianity, all the way to its ambiguous modern connotations of both Puritanical "cleanliness next to godliness" and the loaded innuendo of superficially washing away improper smells deriving from fornication, the history of soap is full of interesting trivia and manifestations of perception put before smell.

 Perfumers Ralf Schwieger and Cecille Matton created Exit the King, which launched in 2020. Presented as a chypre, whose name and story refer to Eugene Ionesco’s play from 1962, the fragrance is the third instalment of what appears to be the founder Etienne de Swardt‘s perfume narrative about perfumery itself. Here however, the name of the king who is about to exit, to die, isn’t Berenger. It is Etienne himself and when the curtain rises, the narrative sees Etienne already yielded in submission to a new sovereign, a woman named Lola, sentenced to lose his head. Before the deadly final act, Etienne presents his last perfume, a new chypre for the new world coming after him.

 Etienne was put down on record saying, “I think that I have to reinvent Etat Libre D’Orange a little bit,” he said. “I want to move the brand to a new era. I’m trying to find a new way to extend the brand’s visibility without corrupting the philosophy. I have 28 perfumes and I cannot add a 29th or a 30th. So I think this is the end of a cycle."

Hence Fin du Monde (end of the world), see what he did there?

 This is a different take on word play, Exit the King is exiting the concept of both soap and chypre, which are part of its presentation. It's ROSE first and foremost.

  In Exit the King we are met with a strong and very discernible rose, dense and dry like pot pourri, which rises with a mock sweet element from the bottom up. It's felt upon spraying on skin and it rises and surfaces again and again as the scent dries. Is it good? It is if you like roses. It can be a little too rosy if you're averse to them, especially if the dried-up varieties put in a bowl bring elements of melancholia and a certain miserliness in you. It's rather easy to wear, as a personal fragrance, like most newer ELDO fragrances are. I do yearn for some of the old revolutionary spirit in the French brand by Etienne, but hey, monarchy is also an obsolete institution too. In Exit the King, the play by Ionesco finds its surrealistic realization indeed. Nothing is as it seems.

Roja Dove Diaghilev: fragrance review

 Much of our information on the particularities of Sergey Diaghilev the man come from the many exhibitions and press catalogues which have been relying on the lasting aftermath of Les Ballet Russes in Europe. Apparently the story of the Diaghilev by Roja Dove fragrance is more complex. 

The fragrance began as an Eau de Parfum concentration as attested by the older advertising images for the Victoria & Albert museum exhibitions and lectures. It then moved to the uniform "whiskey carafe" style of extrait de parfum bottles in a more concentrated form. It is indeed the Eau de Parfum which I had first tried years ago and proclaimed it inwardly "a Mitsouko analogue." (referencing the famous Guerlain perfume from 1919)

glamourdaze

The reference is not lost upon those who know a thing or two about the man through the bibliography on his life and opus. Serge Diaghilev was enamoured with Guerlain's Mitsouko during the height of his career with Les Ballets Russes and used to drench his curtains with it. Drenching the curtains in perfume....sounds so decadent and eccentric, right? The impression must have been something of an autumnal twilight, just as the Guerlain scent segues into the forest floor after immersing you in a liqueur like the fuzzy skin of golden nectarous peaches ripened in the sun... Charlie Chaplin was also a fan. There's something about it that makes creative juices flow.

 joelm

In a way, both Mitsouko by Guerlain and Diaghilev by Roja Dove bring a sense of awakening to the senses upon smelling them. They're both lush, fruity chypre perfumes, and they're both like a beauty coming back from a long-forgotten slumber, like the princess sleeping in the Sleeping Beauty ballet that Les Ballets Russes performed.

 internationalposters

The transition from the citrusy top note is as smooth in Diaghilev as in the Guerlain, with the linalyl acetate of bergamot smoothing the pathway to the core of the chypre skeleton, and piquant notes of spices and herbs (cloves, peppery jolt, tarragon) give a lively burst alongside the plush. The spicy component is a counterpart to the fruity and floral aspects. It's never a flat scent; it's always bronze-y and lush.

 harrods

The modern re-issue took the structure of the Eau de Parfum and gave it in Extrait de Parfum an immensity of duration that far surpasses the 24-hour mark on skin. The old bases like Persicol have tremendous tenacity and the synthetic civet feels like it opens up the best elements, attaching itself to the fruity and floral aspects and making them extend into infinity.

Milano Fragranze Naviglio: fragrance review

 Finding one's perfect soapy fragrance is a question of defining the scent of soap in the first place. Will it be the classic Camay and Lux soap of yesteryear, which smelled of roses and aldehydes? Will it be the original Dove with its iris-musk aura or its newer iterations with fruits and coconut? Are we talking about chamomile and the botanical smells of pine and lavender, perhaps of jasmine and flowers, allied to powerful powdery aspects, or are we concentrating on fatty aldehydes known from Aleppo and Marseilles soap which smell like clean laundry on a line? I'm personally quite fond of the latter, to be honest.

The promise of Marseilles soap, in its own particular way both sweetish and fatty-acrid, is strikingly fulfilled in Naviglio by Italian niche brand Milano Fragranze. It does smell soapy, really soapy-smelling! The perfect scent for capturing summer cleanliness, but also great for year-round, when you want to project that pristine white, bright impression that is deliriously happy, like lily of the valley bells peaking through the grass on a warm day.

Although we're prepared by the brand for a marine fragrance, with the mention of the canals outside Milan, the aquatic notes here are not the sort met at the seafront, salty and/or with whiffs of organic matter decomposing. In Naviglio, they instead recall the clean ambiance of a humidifier, the lovely sweetish scent of water ponds, and dewiness on a climbing ivy. This effect reminds me of two quirky little scents, Rem by Reminiscence and Ivy by the Fragrance Library (Demeter). It's captured perfectly here, and alongside the soap, it creates a charming, easy-to-wear fragrance. 

Bonus points for its incredibly long-lasting quality. It radiated on my skin for the full 12-hour mark!

Woudacieux Mousse d'Arbre Gris: Fragrance Review

 

There are few things I appreciate more than stumbling upon a clever word play which intrigues my mind and excites my hopes for something unusual. Mousse d'Arbre Gris was one such thing in the perfume world, and it caught me by surprise, since I had not heard of the Woudacieux Haute Parfumerie brand before. Lucky for me, the Internet and its wonders has a way of introducing me to all sort of bright ideas. And so, on I plunged and tried the fragrances.

 

Mousse d'Arbre Gris immediately impressed me. The wordplay lies in arbre being tree in French, while ambregris is grey amber, the notorious perfumery ingredient from sperm whales. And mousse is froth, foam, the fluffy texture of a dessert or lather. In short, it's not what it seems, it's so much more. 

All the Woudacieux fragrances I tried give the sensation of high ratio of natural extracts in them. They have this herbal, primal quality about them. The initial spray of Mousse d'Arbre Gris is redolent of jatamansi, or spikenard (the Latin name Nardostachys jatamansi indicates being part of the honeysuckle family). Native to the Alpine Himalayas and mentioned in the traditional medicine system of Ayurveda, jatamansi/spikenard is precious and important.

The scent of Mousse d'Arbre Gris is both green, herbal, resinous, between salty and warm-powdery -it gives mysterious and welcoming vibes of the vegetal and earthy kind.
The brand as a whole has a hippy-classy quality about them, the fragrances are vegan and produced in limited batches (2000 were created for this one). The illustrations speak of an affinity for botanical sketches on old books, and the fairies that seem to be dancing on the labels give an impression of a Victorian album.

It's a quiet and introspective scent that projects moderately and creates a sense of allure about its wearer. The synergy of synthesized castoreum,civet and ambregris gives a rich body behind the greener and floral touches of the top. It's supple and soft, ambery, non invasive yet still very there. The company introduces it as "an introductory turn on for both sexes" and it really is.

The 20% concentration of compound in the Eau de Parfum ensures a great lasting power to the mix and a value for money application. You only need a couple of sprays I found to fulfill the frothy mix of mossy-herbal softness aura around you. The bottle can be found on the official website. You can see images of the brand on their Pinterest account.

 

Baruti Onder de Linde: fragrance review

 Exploring the Baruti line, a niche collection by Greek perfumer Spyros Drosopoulos, based in the Netherlands, I found myself transfixed by Onder de Linde, which roughly translates from the Dutch as "under the linden trees." (Sounds dreamy, doesn't it?)

This extrait de parfum has a way of speaking of blue skies and honeyed blossoms in a modern, totally unexpected way, as the floralcy does not arise till halfway in the heart notes. It might be that it came right when we were facing a very ominous winter, with the hope of spring far in the air, so this promise of joy and uplifting optimism was a much needed glimpse of a better future. It acts like an anti-depressant, almost, on a weary soul. It's honeyed, but restrained in the sweetness, not veering into gourmand territory at any rate. It's neither powdery, which many fragrances in this genre tend to fall into, especially ones which couple the heliotropin and aubepine molecules into mimosa notes that embrace lindens. It's soft like a feather, enduring like the faith of youth in itself.

The brand implies added notes of pear and lilac, which I do not detect per se (and I do love lilacs), but the effect is nothing short of a magical late spring, early summer morning when the birds are chirping and you're on to the love rendezvous you've been awaiting all your life, or – more prosaically – the career step you've always hoped for. It's that joyous, honestly. 

With the assistance of Madeleine Hillen (perfumer's assistant and lab manager) and Maria Chetskaya (brand manager), Baruti is going forward, plunging into the demanding niche sector, where you have to put your money where your mouth is to survive among hundreds of companies building their portfolio of scents day by day, year by year. It's clear they're destined for a bright future!

Serge Lutens Chergui: Hay Heaven-Fragrance Review

Oddly enough, though I love both orientals and Serge Lutens fragrances on the whole, both of which I own a rather significant collection, I rarely reach for Chergui. I attribute this to its not finding it challenging enough or wistful enough; Lutens fragrances in particular either lure me with their pensive, introspective mode (Iris Silver Mist, Douce Amere, L'Orpheline and La Myrrhe...) or with their exultation of taking a chosen artistic direction to its natural apex (Fleurs d'oranger, El Attarine, Arabie, Sarrasins and Tubereuse Criminelle...). Chergui nevertheless enjoys the kind of popularity that makes me revisit it at disjointed timeposts...when something new and terrifying lies in the horizon or when I'm particularly congratulatory of a penitent interval.

Lutens promises the exoticism of the east with Chergui (ascending from the name onwards...) but delivers a quite restrained composition that is not too challenging. It melds with the skin and complements it, plus it's mildly sweet (very popular with modern audiences) and subtly powdery like a greige sweater that's comfy enough to hide one's melancholia behind.

The Lutensian story behind the fragrance is certainly highly visual:

"A fire fanned by the wind, a desert in flames. As if bursting from the earth, Chergui, a desert wind, creates an effect that involves suction more than blowing, carrying plants, insects and twigs along in an inescapable ascent. Its full, persistent gusts crystallize shrubs, bushes and berries, which proceed to scorch, shrivel up and pay a final ransom in saps, resins and juices. Night falls on a still-smoldering memory, making way for the fragrant, ambery and candied aromas by the alchemist that is Chergui."

The facet which is dominating on my skin is the coumarin (what we refer to as mown hay). Indeed hay absolute plays a prominent role in the composition, but it's still pertinent to stress that on my skin Chergui by Lutens is not a pipe tobacco dream oriental with masculine proclivities as sometimes described, but a cuddly roll in the hay that sticks on you for long after the deed. It's soft and warm and lasts for a full 48 hours, which is quite impressive and a good recommendation for people who have longevity issues with fragrances in general.

It has been remarked upon before but the shift from the rather medicinal opening (in the older formula) into the fluffier hay core is a point of tension. It's the one and major change that happens in a fragrance that remains mostly linear on my skin. Still it presents its own "a ha!" moment.

Chergui by Serge Lutens is dry, befitting the name but at once lush and dense, and it brings to mind a certain opacity to the proceedings which is typical for most Lutens fragrances, which could be easily attributed to an oriental character; even the florals! Chergui is redolent of oil paintings by Dutch masters, somber yet textured, and as if you can taste it. I find this a quality that resonates with Lutens buyers and therefore Chergui is probably a safe purchase.

Etat Libre d'Orange Une Amourette

One is prepped for interesting things, since Roland Mouret was intent on commissioning a perfume collaboration to the maverick French firm of Etat Libre d'Orange for some time, eyeing creative director Etienne de Swardt as a fellow pioneer.

Mouret consolidated his fashion imprint through the arc of several designs of his divising: the Galaxy dress, the Moon, Pigalle, Titanium, and others following those. To paraphrase Christian Dior, each and every one of them appears coming out of his perfume named Une Amourette and composed by refined craftswoman Daniela Andrier Roche; best known for her Prada opus, Andrier settled upon an illusory and deceptive contraption. Designs and dresses like that might look like they could be made by anyone, but actually entail high skills and imaginative powers.

In Une Amourette the patchouli is rendered in the modern "cleaned up" style (less of the animalic darkness and more of the minty, camphorous quality) that makes for an excellent folding material for the pepper-leather axis from one angle and for the neroli-iris (which comes across as starchy-tart) axis from the other. The balance is precarious, yet in typical Andrier style the effect in Etat Libre d'Orange's Une Amourette Roland Mouret is sublimely modern; clean, powerful, rather masculine in a cornucopia of ersatz fruit salads & cotton candy vats in the feminine fragrances aisle. It's a rather weird scent, nonetheless, that truly deserves its place amongst the sophisticated line-up of the Etat Libre d'Orange collection.

A fairy tale without a dragon; only cerebral and sensuous enjoyment.

Bruno Acampora Musc Gold: fragrance review

It's not a tentative preview but a well established ritual, but Musc Gold perfume oil by Italian niche brand Bruno Acampora always makes it seem like it's the very first, one's no-virgin-anymore time.

via

The particularly incongruent, yet oddly beguiling mushroom note that is at the heart of the original Musc is still subtly present (herbaceous, earthy patchouli), but patters out very quickly in order to give the bitterish salty semblance of naked skin which sweetens the more it stays on.

It makes me think of the words of E.E Cummings "in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they're too near."


Further reading on Perfume Shrine:
Musk, the material: natural deer musk and synthetic musks
Skin scents: intimate and subtle 
The Musk Series: Part 1, a Cultural Perception of Musk
                             Part 2, Natural musk and everything you need to know on synthetics
                             Part 3, The Many Permutations of Musk Fragrances (musk "types")

Scented Musketeers: musk fragrance reviews for men & women 

Fragrance Industry News: Big Brands, Niche Players and Celebrities

The perfume industry is going through different phases and looking into the developments, what with the mergers, acquisitions, take-overs and profit reports, as well as the perfume best-sellers lists, is always interesting in its own way. According to the latest reportage there are news in what concerns big players and the continuing growth of niche in the market segmentation.

via

As per the BBC news, "Coty - the New York beauty brand behind famous names such as Calvin Klein, Marc Jacobs, Gucci, Hugo Boss and Chloe - has faced headwinds this year.
In August, it reported a surprise quarterly loss that was partly blamed on "materially" higher marketing costs for the launch of new fragrances, including Gucci Bloom and Hugo Boss Tonic.
L'Oreal, which sells fragrances under brands including Yves Saint Laurent, Ralph Lauren and Diesel, also reported disappointing sales and profits for its most recent quarter." 

It's interesting to note one particular detail which might be explaining the differentiation of niche in practical terms for consumers.

Again according to BBC News, "[market research firm]Mintel estimates UK sales will be worth about £1.5bn this year, making it the fifth-biggest market globally behind Brazil, the US, Russia and France. As with other retail sectors, she says one of the problems is savvy consumers who try out products in a physical store but then go online to buy it for less." 

Niche perfumes by default offer less sampling opportunities in store and they also have different sales practices regarding shop distributions and to the sales bonuses of the sales assistants pushing them.

The data for the celebrity fragrances however seems contradicting. One source (Mintel to be precise) "releasing a fragrance emblazoned with the name of a celebrity, such as Britney Spears, Beyonce or Jennifer Lopez - appears to be waning. A third of consumers describe this approach as tacky."
The Washington Post cites that sales of celebrity scents "have dropped by half since 2000, while luxury perfumes have seen a recent sales increase of 16 percent, bringing them to a record high".  There is nevertheless the counter argument.

In an Allure article touting the quality of many celebrity fragrances (and indeed we have shared a bit of the love, when deserved, on these very pages) there will always be a place for celebrity scents. "We experience them not as people, but as products, ingesting whatever song, photo, or product they choose to release. They are not so much revealing themselves to us, but continuing to build the character they are projecting themselves to be. We are falling in love with someone we will never know.
In that way, celebrity fragrances are different than scents from the big houses — the Armanis and Chanels. While brand loyalty is certainly a factor in what helps fragrances from the big guys fly off of the shelves every season (not without the help of a celebrity as the face of the brand and scent) celeb scents tap into a different part of our psyche." and concluding "the trend of celebrity fragrances will only completely die out when our collective obsession with celebrity does — which is to say, not any time in the near future."

Worth keeping in mind.

Etat Libre d'Orange You or Someone Like You: Chandler Burr Shares His Inspiration Behind the Fragrance

The staccato bravado of État Libre d'Orange's fragrant creations is the stuff of legend. (Who can forfeit their sentiments upon smelling the infamous Secretions Magnifiques for example?). The credibility and creative inquisitiveness of Chandler Burr is the stuff of steadfast reality. Imagine combing the two into a single item that you can actually claim as your own.

To make it short and concise, Chandler Burr, author of the novel You or Someone Like You among other works, former NY Times scent critic and curator of museum exhibitions and scent dinners, has art directed a perfume for  État Libre d'Orange that officially launches on April 3, 2017, named You or Someone Like You.

Here is what Chandler told me about the inspiration behind the new niche perfume launch You or Someone Like You.

 "There is an Englishwoman who doesn’t exist. Her name is Anne Rosenbaum, and I created her in my novel “You Or Someone Like You.” She lives, with her movie executive husband, in a house high in the blue air of the Hollywood Hills, just off Mulholland Drive, overlooking Los Angeles above the 101. 

 I’m fascinated by LA, this strange dream factory that exists in its eternal, relentless present tense, its otherworldly beauty both effortlessly natural and ingeniously artificial. A movie that makes movies. Palm trees, the symbol of LA, aren’t natural there. They were imported, placed in the hills, “but then,” Anne observes to you, “so was I.” 

Los Angeles’ smells mesmerize, the astringent mint/green of eucalyptus, wild jasmine vines unselfconsciously climbing the stop signs, catalyzed car exhaust, hot California sun on ocean water (although “You” contains no jasmine or eucalyptus; if you need to know what it’s made of, “You” is not for you). 

When Etat Libre d’Orange approached me about creative directing, my perfumer Caroline Sabas and I created not a “perfume” -- people in Los Angeles don’t wear perfume – but a specific scent, the scent someone like Anne would wear, an Angelino Englishwoman high in the hills in the blue air."

Sounds like something I should dig with the fervor of a scent hound. Stay tuned because we have an exclusive interview with Chandler Burr coming up soon. 

NB. There is an Etat Liubre d'Orange discovery set sold on Amazon here and another on on this link.

Guerlain: The liquidation of heritage

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Succumbing to celebrity culture has never been the Guerlain way.
Guerlain does not follow the Guerlain way anymore. Time to let that sink in.

L'Artisan Parfumeur Saffran Troublant: fragrance review

Although saffron and roses are a favorite combination in many a niche fragrance offering these days, back in 2002, when Safran Troublant actually launched, it was unusual and arresting. Typically with L'Artisan Parfumeur, the road was laid for other travelers to travel through; paths well trodden and less explored alike, but the French brand founded by perfumer Jean Laporte in the late 1970s was a pioneer.

via Pinterest

Safran Troublant, if not marking high on the novelty value impressions score nowadays, still is an arresting scent, if only because it manages to balance the precarious precipice of clandestine smolder and comforting warmth. Roses are not especially simpatico for various reasons, but when given the sheath of a pitch-black collaborator, such as leather, or patchouli, or aoudh or -indeed- saffron, I stand on attention and pay my respects.

There's something about Safran Troublant, at once mouthwatering and "troubling" as its moniker in French denotes. The lactonic creaminess it projects recalls eating rosewater puddings with vanilla, someplace East. The suede-like saffron spice is enhanced by the depths of an irresistibly cozy, musky embrace that draws you in closer. Oddly enough it creates desire to the same degree that it quenches it; a discreet fragrance you might take for granted, like one's mainstay in the wardrobe, but leaving you with the renewed sensation of always looking at it with eyes afresh.

Penhaligon's & L'Artisan Perfumeur: Niche Fragrance Brands Bought by Puig

I have tired of saying it: we're experiencing the end of niche. Niche was a marketing tool to grow companies and then sell them to the highest bidder. The sale of Editions de Frederic Malle and Le Labo last autumn to the Lauder Group is followed by the sale of British traditional house Penhaligon's (established in 1870 as they boast) and of French artsie proto-niche (well, at least when it was founded by Jean Laporte in the late 1970s) L'Artisan Parfumeur to the Spanish group of Puig.

Jenner Studio photo via archdaily

Puig is at least no LVMH....They do nevertheless cater to a more mainstream perfume portfolio: Carolina Herrera, Prada, Paco Rabanne, Valentino....but also Comme des Garcons, which is anything but conventional in their fragrances.

Two years ago I was complaining on L'Artisan Parfumeur losing the grip on niche. In fact actively seeking to distance itself from the Jean Laporte, Olivia Giacobetti, Anne Flipo and Jean Ellena past. They were commissioning hundreds (or so it seemed, at least) new fragrances on Bertrand Duchaufour and seemed to branch out. Now it's evident even to the most well-meaning why that was.

Penhaligon's (funnily enough employing the same indie perfumeur, the Mitsotakis of niche apparently) was following a similar trajectory, a markedly different business model than its small shop cutesy of its long past.

All the same it's another tombstone on niche perfumery. How much longer will Serge Lutens withhold after having bought his rights for handling his name from the Japanese giant Shiseido?

Jacoglu Oud Prestige: fragrance review

Finding a composition that manages to bypass the ennui of too many generic "ouds" on the market is a relief (for a small sample of just how many oud fragrances have launched in the last few years -1 in every 8 they say!- please consult the link). This I found in Jacoglu's Oud Prestige, a new entry, art directed in 2013 by the young and charismatic Jacques Jacoglu, by Parfums Jacoglu, based in Paris on the Champs Elysées.

The story of the inspiration behind Oud Prestige reads like something different from the usual flowery prose which garlands press releases with the asphyxiating tentacles of pretense. Rather Jacoglu was a valet in his early days in the Champs Elysées spot, where mysteriously scented Middle Eastern women went by, trailing behind them a tale of "A Thousand and One Nights" which beguiled him. Honest, eh? Jacques Jacoglu himself, judging by the last name, must derive lineage from the Eastern Mediterranean, which places his olfactory perception and acuity on a high level. Oud Prestige was something waiting to happen and indeed it is Parfums Jacoglu's first fragrance, so I'm looking forward to the next.

via

The jarring introduction fuses citric elements (grapefruit to be exact) with blackcurrant, followed by a sustained woody heart of oud. The familiarity with the oud bases thankfully didn't detract me from the fact that the treatment here is mysteriously woven into a seductive trail rather than a sledgehammer of bitterness hitting you on the head like a ton of Band Aids for an hypothetically polytraumatized kid where that sort of thing would do any difference. Don't get me wrong: Oud Prestige is not an apologetic "I'm wearing nothing scented" kind of fragrance for when you are having that job interview or hanging out with the girlfriend "with allergies."

The oud woodiness is noticeable and long-lasting. If you're pooh-poohing heavy hitters and only opt for fruity florals or sweetish stuff, you should probably stay away, but women with a penchant for woody and oriental scents as well as men with an adventurous streak who won't be sidetracked by the marketing towards women will recognize that Oud Prestige is worth testing out by both oud lovers and those who have been having problems with oud scentss; a revelation of benzoin-laced goodness awaits.

The salty skin effect of ambergris chord in the base and the musky aura on the whole contribute to mollify and smoothe out any rough edges, creating a sostenuto which trails along, making people want to lean closer to catch a whiff and think about what they're smelling: is it you, is it something on your clothes, your exotic aura which bewitches?

Serge Lutens Laine de Verre: fragrance review

One of my preferred short stories in the canon by American author Edgar Allan Poe is William Wilson. Less popular than many of his more exploitable, creepy or evocative stories, such as The Fall of the House of Usher, The Pit and the Pendulum or The Tell-Tale Heart, it manages to speak to the soul in a way that reminds me of a later favorite author, Herman Hesse, and his profoundly soul-searching novels with characters struggling to find their fate and to get to know themselves. This preface comes as  a necessary explanation on why I found Laine de Verre, the latest fragrance launch by Serge Lutens, as chillingly puzzling as the double face of Janus, the two antiscians in the above mentioned short story.

via tumblr

Maybe this was all an idea that was suggested by seeing Uncle Serge pacing up and down as if somnabulating against himself in a clip worthy of utter puzzlement… [watch the clip here]

The cryptic text is -as always- a springboard for discussion or a chance for ridicule; it all depends on your worldview:
"It is only after he had been penetrated by the winter that,
laying down his arms, the Lord of Glass came to place
at the feet of the Lady of Wool flowers and ferns which had frosted on him."

Laine de Verre means fiberglass (yes, the one used as insulation) and as odd as a perfume inspiration this sounds (the actual material being a potent sensitizer creating an instant itch on the skin it touches) there comes a point in perfumery that one has to drop the "noble essences from the Comores islands" and the "ethically sustained eco-certified ingredients" schtick and just reinvent the wheel. This moment in perfumery has arrived. Fiberglass, then, why not!! After Serge Lutens fragrances with names such as Tubereuse Criminelle (criminal tuberose), Fille en aiguilles (you'll have to read the review to find out on that, it's more complex than it sounds), Nuit de cellophane (cellophane night), Vitriol d'Oeillet (carnation's vitriol) and La Vierge de Fer (iron maiden), Laine de Verre shouldn't come as a shock, at least in what has to do with semantics.

The "eau" line, with its initial L'Eau de Serge Lutens providing the first chasm with the hardcore Lutens clientele and with L'Eau Froide as the second installment to curdle the blood (in a good way), Laine de Verre continues in this collection that is differentiated both in packaging as well as in concept from the regular Marrakech-inflected line: these are "anti-perfumes", scents which aim to be perceived as an aura emanating from the wearer, legible the way supersonic whistles are legible to higher frequency listeners.

The metallic berries and citrus from Mars and the sharp aldehydes from Pluto opening predisposes for the character of the scent which is alien for the modern consumer of apple-scented shower gels and giant fake peaches standing in for latheriness. Lutens marries the abstract idea of "clean" from the middle years of the 20th century (aldehydic florals, such as Chanel No.22 and White Linen) and injects it with modern signs for niche: frankincense, sharp lily of the valley, a mineral and cedar-musk like haze which one can't put their finger on (actually Cashmeran or blonde woods).

Although I still prefer the more incense-y L'Eau Froide (and cannot wear the super sharp and starchy L'Eau), Laine de Verre has to be the second best in the Eau fragrances by Lutens, subdued but there, average lasting power and throughout ironic the way Comme de Garcons fragrances with no-names such as Odeur 53 made their (well) name. It might sound like sacrilege to the average Lutensian fan, but what Lauder did with their Pure White Linen in relation to White Linen is what the French maestro is doing here as well with a tiny helping of that weird, bleach note that made Secretions Magnifiques so horrifically memorable. Anyone who is mentally striking this off their list, now that I mentioned THE HORRIBLE ONE, might be appeased: uncle Serge hasn't totally went out of his way to make us notice, no. Laine de Verre isn't shocking.

In the end it all boils down to intent. With the Eau series, Lutens is authoring a new grammar of "clean": decidedly cool, with prominent use of aldehydes but also incense, mineral and metallic, maybe with a hint of chalkiness like a crushed aspirin, no sign of dewiness or soft muskiness, they perfectly encapsulate a spick & span minimalist loft or a white padded insane asylum, again depending on your worldview. This hygienic approach is in violent clash against the very idea of an added on fine fragrance, much like William Wilson came crushing down violently against his own self and consolidates my belief that Serge Lutens is pulling our collective leg in a deliciously playful way.

pic: Man Ray, Andre Breton before L'enigme d'une journee by Giorgio de Chirico, 1922.

In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample in the context of the brand's regular promos.  

Arte di Profumi Harem Soiree: fragrance review

The ember glow of a dying fire shining through the window of the yalı, the iodine assault of intensely animalic ingredients brought in by the breeze, medicinal unguents resting atop a mahogany shelf at the darüşşifa, eroticism beyond coy or playful, an arrow heading straight to the heart, drama unfolded in one astounding act. The prelude of an unforgettable moment. Far too wild to be tamed and loaded with panache, its presence is unmistakeable. Its name? Harem Soirée.

Mala Fatra, Slovakia, 1963, Vilem Heckel. Czech (1918 - 1970)
via

Harem means the forbidden and beyond the feverished Western Europeans'* dreams of physical love conducted in exotic locales of Eastern promise, it signified the living quarters of the Sultan and his family during the Ottoman rule, a place where no access was granted to outsiders.
[*such as J.A.D.Ingres, Pierre Loti or Lord Byron]

Harem Soirée is tied to ambergris (all Arte di Profumi Roma fragrances have a "star" ingredient featured on the label) but that's clearly not the whole story. Besides being profoundly animalic, the daring scent is full of the concentrated essence of labdanum, with only a very distant hint of that other "amber" ingredient, vanilla. The treatment of this iconic oriental chord is pitch black, resinous smelling, dark as the cloth of the night, dangerous and medicinal as if stemming from prophylactic pharmacopeia, vaguely reminiscent in mood of Ambre Sultan, but even darker and denser with bittersweet myrrh; cuffs of lead rather than iron. Its very austere and dramatic character, with no concessions to the fruity bowl or the dessert trolley, make Harem Soirée a perfect backdrop for discerning gentlemen or women with the rush of adventure fanning their wings.

The name is referencing the shows put by women dancers as well as the 1999 Turkish film by the same name (Harem Suare).

The perfume along the rest of the Arte di Profumi Roma line is available from Jovoy Paris and Ausliebezumduft online.

Neela Vermeire Talks and Offers Free Perfume Bottle Giveaway

What would Neela Vermeire of NVC do and say if she were a guest at my dinner party and we brought out the wine, the amuse-bouche and the board games for adults? I invited her over to have a Scent Game and she gracefully and playfully indulged me. So take thee over to Fragrantica to read our little game, where she describes her perfumes in dessert terms and not only (saffron kheer with bhang for Trayee for instance or rose & carrot halwa for Mohur) and post a comment here on Perfume Shrine to enter a fabulous giveaway she's offering to our European readers. The draw is open to European Union addresses and the generous (fabulous!) prize includes a classic flacon of NVC Mohur perfume with samples of Trayee and Bombay Bling as well as a glass sample vial of Ashoka. Submissions will be counted till Friday midnight and winner will be announced on Monday.

Now that we have gotten this out of the way, let me elaborate why I feel Neela Vermeire Creations is such a big deal. From the musky depths of the historically inspired Trayee to the delicate and graceful arc of Mohur right up to the fruity exuberance of Bombay Bling and the unusual Ashoka, Neela Vermeire Creations is among the best niche lines to grace the horizon in some time. Although I personally discovered it with at least one year delay, I consider it one of the brightest "a ha" moments in my course of scent writing. And those don't come often, let me tell you.

I was personally interested in finding out how and why the 4th installment, Ashoka eau de parfum, came to be, especially since it's such a multi-nuanced and unusual fragrance that seems both a little apart and at the same time very much in tune with the spirit that traverses through the Neela Vermeire Creations line. Neela obliged me: "The first trio were based on wide historic eras in India. We wanted to continue this journey and develop our India inspired collection with our fourth fragrance, Ashoka Eau de Parfum. Ashoka is a tribute to the internal/philosophical changes that occurred during the life of Emperor Ashoka (when he realized upon his conversion to Buddhism that wars were not the solution and compassion was the way forward). It is an important message for the world we live in and Emperor Ashoka has been of interest to us. After all our logo was inspired by Ashoka's chakra."
Indeed the fragrance presents a panorama of redemption and spirituality. You can read my review of it on this link.

The bottom line I suppose is that the success of the line lies not only on the deft handling of the concept by the perfumer (Bertrand Duchaufour) but first and foremost on the art direction of Neela herself; a dedicated person, an aficionado as well as a connoisseur, and an excellent communicator all around. It's been a true honor knowing her.

Le Labo Cuir 28 (Dubai exclusive): fragrance review

What took Le Labo a couple of years to go from announcing Cuir 28 to actually launching it? It's as yet undivulged. Smelling the recently launched fragrance my mind is reeling into a fantasy of Chanel's Sycomore with leather and vanilla. Looks fabulous on paper but in practice it doesn't quite work as intended. Possibly because it looks like two disjointed parts, reminiscent of those kid's toys in which two rolls with images cut in half join at the middle to give you a giraffe's neck with lion's legs or a ballerina with the head of a Hell's Angel. In fact the parable of the latter isn't far removed from the reality of the latest Le Labo Dubai exclusive, Cuir 28.

via thinkgeek.com

Le Labo presents their leather fragrance as "Easy Rider without the sweat and gasoline — blending leather, wood and animal notes to give it a very powerful, dark and memorable personality" Specifically they mention natural vanilla absolute, leather notes (a synthetic base), woods (vetiver), animal notes (ambrox), and musks (muscenone).

Although the opening is jolting for anyone who considers the modern representatives of the "cuir" genre being cuddly and purring kittens like Guerlain Cuir Beluga or other suede fragrances (indeed these lean more to oriental than true leather scents), or spoiled by the plush iris note of Chanel Cuir de Russie, Cuir 28 is an exercise in illusion, an unusual and intriguing composition. Much like Tubereuse Criminelle before it, it hides beneath the shocking prelude a sensitive ballad. In Cuir 28 that ballad is played on the wooden wind instruments: a vanilla oboe and a vetiver clarinet, filling its other's phrases with a bridge in legato. The perfume's opening, smoky, tar-like, phenolic smelling with a touch of that cult Goutal, Eau du Fier and Band Aid worthy (oudh) pungency, isn't particularly animalic smelling, nor is it especially musky scented, but it can be a bit masculine and butch all the same. Wait about 15 minutes though (applying on the skin) and the rest of the composition in Cuir 28 becomes a sweetened vetiver scent, clean and comfortable and really fetching with its very perceptible vanilla. (Possibly there are more synthetic wood notes, like sandalwood, which provide some plush after the thrash.)
The comforting part has been a recent favorite for Le Labo judging from their Moscow exclusive, the extremely hard to come by Benjoin 19. Which beckons the question: Is the East succumbing to a Western taste?

Nevertheless, as is not uncommon with fragrances in the upper echelons of the pricing range, especially when they require a concentrated effort to get hold of as well, the dedicated perfumista might find that the effect is not worth the asking price in the end. Although I have been known to deem at least two of the Le Labo city exclusives, Poivre 23 and Gaiac 10, as worth the jumping through hoops  (and have Mastercard-in-hand capitulated to one), I realize this also has to do with personal preferences, and if you're delirious about leather or vetiver, Cuir 28 is still very worth sampling and I'm glad I tested it; my sample saw good use indeed. Among the city exclusives -and the regular line as well- Cuir 28 is certainly NOT amongst the worst (Limette 27 is probably the dullest), yet it leaves me with a feeling of a missed opportunity. I'd like it turned up a notch.

Fragrance notes for Le Labo Cuir 28: leather, vanilla absolute, woody notes, vetiver and musk.
Le Labo Cuir 28 is exclusively available at Dubai as a city exclusive according to the brand, only the place that was supposed to stock it there (Paris Galley in the Dubai Mall) is closed and until something else opens (which Le Labo informs us it shall), the perfume is nowhere to be found. Fate has no doubt been harsh to Cuir 28...

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: The Leather Fragrance Series, Le Labo Fragrance Reviews & News

The Re-Issue of Indult, Perfumes Composed by Francis Kurkdjian

“I am very happy to see this fragrance collection under new ownership, permitting these perfumes presented under their original formulations to delight its owners”
– Francis Kurkdjian

As you may have surmised Indult is back. We had talked a bit on these pages on Indult, an old French word from 1498 signifying the privileges given by the french King or the Pope to esteemed individuals. The Christian Latin "Indultum" meaning "concession, favor" is at the root. With the desire to launch something that has comparable exclusivity rights as those bestowed upon by a king, Indult began as a niche line back in 2007 comprised by fragrances issued in only 999 bottles each, automatically entering you in the private club able to order a refill if you have purchased a bottle. Specifically we had zeroed on Tihota, a glorious vanilla fragrance.

So, good news! New owners for Indult, new direction and new bottles lifting the extremely restricted quantities mantle. The line is available at the usual suspect, Luckyscent and its brick & mortar equivalent The Scent Bar, exclusively.

Biehl Parfumkunstwerke GS03: fragrance review

GS03 for Biehl Parfumkunstwerke is the acronym for perfumer Geza Schoen's third composition he signs with his initials for the quirky and arty niche brand hailing from Hamburg, Germany by way of New York and more ways than one stands as the distilled signature of his mature work passed down in flying colors. Everything is there: the copious amounts of Iso-E Super (a synthetic material he is famous for using in his work), the airy modern feeling like ambient music, the legibility and at once the wearability of the composition by man, woman or animal (well, I made the last one up, but you know what I mean). The scent gains in warmth and sensuality as the body heats up, the hallmark of a good "skin scent". Like plexi-glass bricks letting sunlight traverse through them, it only looks artificial first time around; familiarity gets it ingrained fast.

photo of Geza Schoen provided for PerfumeShrine use

For Geza, a molecular wizard who questions the very nature of fine fragrance, scent works like an invisible mantle, at once enhancing the wearer's "super powers," the way Superman's cape allows him to reach his flying potential, and creating an enigma as to their definite source (May we recall here his infamous Molecule 01, "an agreeable ambient presence which plays peek-a-boo with my nose" as Katie Puckrik said). Schoen doesn't like the modern approach of mass fragrance anyway: "Fragrance these days is all about naked women on the beach, naked women on the sofa, naked women in the arms of naked men—it’s so boring", he states in no uncertain terms.

For GS03 the concept was a totally modernized, galvanized Cologne, not a rehash. The classic of old, the Eau de Cologne formula (citrusy effervescence with herbal-aromatic accents and a very faint musk in the base) stands for the contentment of cleanliness, since it is routinely splashed on after a bath, but also of exhilaration and total body & mind detoxing; a simple message printed in thick, header bold: spray it on and just feel good about yourself! With a history of more than 3 centuries on its back it also risks coming across as "granny-ish" or maudlin. To avoid that Schoen and art director Thorsten Biehl worked on incorporating contemporary elements and a modern structure. The result reads as unisex, because there are no traditionally very feminine, dainty, pretty-pretty notes, nor heavily burly chest-thumping and gravelly-voiced masculine ones.

pic of Geza Schoen & Thorsten Biehl at work, provided for PerfumeShrine use

The top note of Biehl Parfumkunstwerke GS03 fragrance is as clear as a church bell pealing on a mountain top in the Alps, but at the same time quite soft and soapy-smelling, comprised of a pink pepper note (allied to what can only come across as sweet lemon to my nose) which reveals a less sharp than citrus, slightly fruity-rosy scent carried far by the scent of the alcohol carrier. The rejuvenating scent of juniper gives an herbal accent that recalls the bracing feel of downing a good gin. The lemony touch just aids in bringing forth the herbal aspects of juniper berries. The trick of juniper is clever; it has provided that contented, in-the-know smile I recall from wearing Angeliques sous la Pluie (Jean Claude Ellena for Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle) and Juniper Sling (Olivier Cresp for Penhaligon's). The gin & tonic combination is as perennially pleasing as a button-down oxford shirt in white; it just works in any situation, on any wearer. It's also effortless, even if you're using Hendrick's. It seems to me that there is also a bitterish artemisia hint in GS03, a tickling of the sinuses which aids the pungent freshness (and some hedione); it would serve as both a contrast and a modifier, rendering the juniper fresher and the rest fruitier by contrast. The anchoring elements consist of the potent musky, cedar-like hum (Iso-E Super) which we have come to associate with Geza Schoen, with an added layer of castoreum, just enough to give interest.

pic of Geza Schoen & Thorsten Biehl provided for PerfumeShrine use

The projection of Biehl GS03 is mild: I catch whiffs now and then and if I lean over the spots I sprayed it's most definitely there, but it doesn't come across as "you're wearing perfume!" (Come to think of it, should anything?)

GS03 is available from the Biehl site, at Scent Bar and on Luckyscent.