L'Artisan Parfumeur Dzing!: fragrance review

Which scent is capable of bringing out your inner Cat People? Have you ever wondered? This old specimen from the time when L'Artisan Parfumeur was a niche perfumes pioneer , Dzing!, is a strange amalgalm of animal hide and animal waste plus the compelling smell of old paper.

via

Smelling old books and that particular feeling of abstract fluff that is industrial cardboard used for moving boxes have some things in common: they have a starchy, almost vanillic nuance to them, but flat and non sweet, like a cake that lacks sugar but still retains the sweetish tinge of a comforting spice.

Dzing! by L'Artisan Parfumeur was inspired by the zoo, by the sawdust and the animals, the fun and festive air that surrounds a performance, but also the comforting feel of a childhood memory. It's probably not a surprise that vanilla is so closely tied to childhood memories. Dzing! does not immediately recall vanilla, it actually smells like a cross between moving boxes, sawdust and old books, all of this sprinkled with the slightly unsettling hint of animal musk in the distance; this thing is heaving. The light leather tinge is sexy and intimate, musky soft-smelling; a synergy between a saffron note with something birch-derived or musky-suede, rather than the rough isoquinolines in butch scent variations of leather fragrances. The overall impression is not sweet as the given notes might suggest, only in that register that skin and fur smells a tad sweetish and lightly salty.

But that's probably what a person who appreciates smells odder than the standard cake vanilla would find themselves peering into, with an upturned eyebrow and a keen interest in their eye; count me among them. Dzing! isn't very easy to wear but the experience is rewarding. Just imagine what people with keen noses might think and be too embarrassed to mention. Priceless.

Fragrance notes for L'Artisan Parfumeur Dzing!: leather, ginger, tonka bean, musk, white woods, caramel, saffron, toffee, candy apple and cotton candy.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine:

Modern Leather Fragrances short reviews
Perfumes and Fur, les perfumes fourrure and the intimacy of furry stuff
Animalic Notes: the skanky scent of sexy

Hermes Hiris: fragrance review

Once upon a time, concubines in the Far East were fed animal musk, so that their bodies would sweat in sweet fragrance. Nowadays they feed themselves angelica roots, boiled carrots, and almond baked in tin foil, with the tin foil intact. They spray themselves absent-mindedly with an obsolete hairspray that engulfs them in musk, sending electrical sparks like a loose train set on liquid tracks, running in the storm to nobody knows where. They work under azure skies which never betray the greyness of their gaze. They dream of "Et la lune descent sur le temple qui fut". Some girls nowadays are fed Hiris by Hermès...

Hiris: from the flower to the fragrance, the modern and refined mindset of a unique soliflore, all devoted to the splendor of the iris. A perfume of emotion and subtlety conceived by perfumer Olivia de Giacobetti in 1999, it expresses its charm with an infinite delicacy; sometimes floral, sometimes powdery or plant-like, always one of the olfactory wonders of nature.

The quintessential dry powder scent, Hiris by Hermès is the yardstick against which orris scents can be measured in a sweetness to dryness climax; this one is set on ultra-dry. For sheer uniqueness it could only be compared to the cold melancholia of Iris Silver Mist by Serge Lutens, but it's less gloomy, less sombre, warming a bit through the skin-like ambrette seed. It's for INFP types for sure.
And it falls naturally into the pattern set out by Hermès, a house that caters to an effortless sensibility of quiet sensuousness, of subtle sexiness, of refined intellectuality. A precious keepsake.

Fragrance notes for Hermès Hiris:
Top Notes
Iris, Coriander, Carrot
Heart Notes
Iris, Neroli, Rose, Hay
Base notes
Honey, Almond wood, Vanilla, Cedarwood, Ambrette seed

NB. The older bottles are in blue frosted glass packaged in an orange carton. The newer ones are in a transparent glass bottle with gold cap and a blue label, packaged in an orange and blue carton. 

L'Artisan Parfumeur Eau de l'Artisan: fragrance review

Twenty three years after its introduction to the line of L'Artisan Parfumeur, Olivia Giacobetti's take on the pleasures of a Mediterranean herb garden L'Eau de l'Artisan is still relevant in what concerns a fragrance that replicates its dewy herbaceousness. (I hear Jo Malone launches a whole line devoted to such things as parsley or fennel and carrot blossoms).

via pinterest

The "jardin potager" as it's called in French is usually a patch that features culinary verdant herbs meant to be picked and plucked spontaneously to season a salad here and a pot roast there alongside blossoming plants and vegetables in an aesthetically pleasing way. And personally? I prefer it even to the glories of the roses's beds and the petunias's designs blooming in feisty colors down the path...

L'Eau de l'Artisan beautifully replicates the bunch of them with basil and marjoram being the delectable and quite prominent aromatic heroes. They both give piquancy and a certain earthy bite which is not miles apart from what they offer to a dish.The tension is built between the lemony verbena and the mossy backgrounds which - not unlike the seminal Eau de Campagne by Sisley - translate as a very fresh and very subtle chypre.

I also seem to discern thyme: another popular Med choice, the scorched stems of which dot the hills in summer; the herb often garlands a roasted leg of lamb. Credit to L'Artisan for creating a fragrance that is not meant for mutton dressed as lamb then, as so many mainstream fragrances are, but goes for a little joyful introspection into the memories of our summers spent in the countryside.

L'Artisan Parfumeur Premier Figuier: fragrance review & history

Composed by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti exactly 20 years ago in 1994, Premier Figuier still remains one of the very best out there, conjuring a vivid image of late August days spent in the Greek countryside when cicadas are loudly singing at the scorching hour of noon and people hot and weary from a sea dip are sitting beneath the shade of the fig tree to enjoy their Spartan meal of fresh fruit and cool, still water. The coconut curls note is rounding the foliage with just the right sweetness and provides an euphoric touch.

via behance.net

Giacobetti in an unstoppable strain of fig-producing mode, went on to create an Eau de Parfum version to the best-selling Premier Figuier, baptized Premier Figuier Extreme (2004), highlighting the rounder elements and extending its stay. She also created Philosykos for Diptyque, two years after her seminal "first fig tree" for L'Artisan. Philosykos, the friend of figs.

The re-creation of the smell of fig trees in perfumery is possible thanks to two crucial ingredients: stemone and octalactone gamma. Stemone (Givaudan tradename) imparts a green, fresh tonality like mint that combined with octalactone gamma (prune-like) evokes the earthy, sticky green of fig leaves (a smell of dry earth, scorched by the sun of a hot place with a hint of bitterness) and the milky sap of the young fruit plus the acid green of galbanum. The always handy Hedione (a fresh jasmine note, Firmenich tradename) and Iso-E Super (a dynamic and shape-shifting woody synthetic, IFF tradename) are often utilized to bring “lift” to the genre. The coconut note is an important part, not because it imparts a tropical feel (figs grow in the temperate zone) but because the young fruit sap contains a sensitizing "milk," a lactonic note. Coconut is also lactonic, i.e. milky in nature, hence the inclusion more realistically brings to mind the fig tree burdened with its succulent-to-be load. The milky note isn't a random thing, nor has it escaped attention through the ages. The classical Greek writer Athenaeus of Naucratis writes in Deipnosophistae how rural populations were making cheese out of milk by curdling it using the twigs and leaves of the fig tree. It is even described in Homer's Iliad!

via pinterest

It's not decided whether Giacobetti was intimate with this bit of classical knowledge when she added a milky, butyric note into the green woody skeleton. All I know is that in Premier Figuier it was crucial that the tempering of bitterness (naturally occurring in the fig leaf itself, smelled best when crushed between the fingers) with the sweetish milky note is done just right! The effect is not too dissimilar to an apricot (another lactonic note in fragrance) run under fresh water and opened in two halves in a cool yard. While wearing Premier Figuier I am often reminded of this little fact as I receive compliments on the "apricot scent" on me… :-)

Philosykos by Diptyque: The Hellenic Inspiration ~History & Mythos

Greece 16 August 1990

"We’re exploring the country from top to bottom, by car, bus, boat and foot! The landscapes are like nothing we’ve seen before. The mountains resemble wild animals like lions, or tigers, with their long, uninterrupted, muscular lines. Sometimes, the world of myths and all-powerful gods seems to loom up before us, like at the Acropolis. This country is totally fascinating!!

After all that sightseeing, we’ve finally found our favourite spot, mount Pelion! Here, in a remote village called Milies, surrounded by countryside that is barren in parts, lush and fertile in others, dotted with huge waterfalls, we’ve decided to stay for the rest of the summer, and let time stand still. I’ve sketched the village square for you, to give you an idea of where we are.

via

Every day, to reach the sea, we walk through groves where wild fig trees grow. Heated by the sun, they give off an intense fragrance. I’ve made you a box of souvenirs from this wonderful trip that is coming to an end, so you can share it with us. I’ve put in it a dried leaf from one of the magnificent fig trees, as well as a piece of marble from the Acropolis, a bit of pottery from Mycenae."

Yves Coueslant and Desmond Knox-Leet, two of Diptyque's three founders, were keen travelers. After countless expeditions, they found at last their favorite spot, what Desmond called "the landscape of the soul": Mount Pelion.

On this Mount Pelion, at Melies in Thessalia, they rented a holiday house four years in succession. To reach the sea every day they would walk through a grove of wild fig trees, heated by the burning sun…And thus Diptyque Philosykos and Figuier scented candle came to be.

If I showed you pictures of my younger days as a carefree student you'd be hard to miss one with me showing my teeth and claws in a mock threatening mood under a shrubby fig tree that almost engulfed me in its tentacles. This isn't unusual; we're talking Greece, the land of chaotic vegetation where vegetable patch borders and garden beds are almost unheard of and you'd be hard pressed to find something reminiscent of the ultra-artificial structure of a French style formal garden by André Le Nôtre. The philosophical clash of order over nature and of classical creation myths which place value in the spermatic possibilities ad infinitum is reflected in this small issue.
But the fig itself is antithetical to the northern climes which bred Schopenhauer and Le Spleen de Paris. Dusty or glossy, bitter or sweetish and hazy or succulent, the varied universe of fig scents is winking at us to impart of the joys of the here and now before more sinister thoughts detach us from sensual pleasures. And sensual pleasures are everywhere under the Mediterranean sun where figs are consumed by the kilo, routinely ending a meal with the accompaniment of many savory and creamy cheeses or cooked alongside pork or lamb or even…fish!

fish wrapped in fig leaves by Penny de los Santos for Saveur, borrowed for educational purposes from here

Dried, candied figs are still sold throughout the Middle East and the Eastern Mediterranean as a delicacy that harkens back to antiquity. Such was the importance placed on them that in classical Athens (a significant trade center for figs) the term sycophant/συκοφάντης (literally “revealer of figs”) was coined for those who snitched on the poachers of figs. As the practice of stealing the fruit was both illegal and highly frowned upon~fig groves being sacred as well as a trade vantage point for city-state Athens~ the practice soon took on a more sinister nuance: If someone had a vendetta against their neighbor they often resorted to blaming them for fig poaching! Thus the word “sycophant” earned a negative and more generalized meaning, that of "lying snitch," a meaning it still retains in Greek! Centuries later the word acquired a different meaning in English (that of "lowly flatterer"), but its etymology reminds us that the natural world surrounding us is not without importance even in such prosaic things as words.

The sharp, bitter green of the leaf contrasts with the milky, creamy touch of the sap of the fruit and the wood of the bark in Philosykos. The coconut note is an important part, not because it imparts a tropical feel (figs grow in the temperate zone) but because the young fruit sap contains a sensitizing "milk," a lactonic note. Coconut is also lactonic, i.e. milky-smelling in nature, hence the inclusion more realistically brings to mind the fig tree burdened with its succulent-to-be load. The milky note isn't a random thing, nor has it escaped attention through the ages. The classical Greek writer Athenaeus of Naucratis writes in Deipnosophistae how rural populations were making cheese out of milk by curdling it using the twigs and leaves of the fig tree. It is even described in Homer's Iliad!

For all those reasons Philosykos is very dear to me and I was overjoyed to see this beautiful homage to this truly iconic fragrance.

See the presentation/sketches/photos on this link .

Desmond Knox Leet sketch for Diptyque Philosykos

L'Artisan Parfumeur L'Ete en Douce (previously Extrait de Songe): fragrance review

Essence of a dream, that is Extrait de songe, was the very poetic name of a limited edition “clean”perfume for summer 2005 by L’artisan Parfumeur. The latter lost a legal battle over the coveted name with Annick Goutal who had the name Songes (=dreams) copyrighted for her own, completely different, floriental composition. Hence the lovely Extrait de Songe became extinct... Later it was rechristened as L'Eté en Douce (playing on a French idiom, meaning "summer is sneaking up on you") and entered the L'Artisan portfolio as a re-issue.
However many perfume fans say the fragrance in either name smells quite close to another older L’artisan offering, one of the Moodswings coffret, Lazy Mood, developed by the same perfumer, Olivia Giacobetti. This got me thinking.

Laziness, boredom, dullness….all of these words bring to mind the languorous days of a really hot summer, when one isn’t energized enough to actively do anything except sleep. We had a long bout of this in the summer and am afraid we will get it again soon enough.
When I am talking hot, I am not talking Canada “hot”. Nor Germany “hot”. These are euphemisms. These are mere bleeps on the radar of hotness, never managing to register with me. (It’s actually my preferred weather: if only we had 28 degree Celsius half the year long...)
I am talking 39-40 degrees hell hot, all red and fiery; when your own skin is becoming revolting to you and you want to tear it apart with one swift gesture like an overzealous Russian waxer with steroid-enhanced arms; when hair sticks on your forehead inviting you to turn into a travesty of a skinhead; when sticky liquid oozes off your pores just by sitting around doing nothing. Yes, you’ve guessed it: I hate those moments with a passion.
The “noon devil” of the hermits of Egypt, which draws out every speck of physical and mental vitality, is my personal nemesis.

However it is a small comfort that Extrait de songe/L'Eté en Douce exists for providing the illusion of a clean, cool, white cotton sheet that can be wrapped all around one and provide some solace from the scorching sun. Sloth according to Kirkegaard is the source of all evil. Wordsworth described it as “wild dullness”. It is considered one of the seven deadly sins by the Catholic church. Hamlet refers to the world as “tiresome, plain and dull” which probably explains why he never lifts a hand to actually do anything except talk for the better part of the play.
Samuel Butler says that boredom is a kind of spiritual failure, since the person who lets himself to emote it is more despicable than boredom itself.
But is it so bad, really? I wonder…

Billy Collins, the poet, calls boredom paradise itself. “It’s the blessed absence of things that the world offers as interesting such as fashion, media, and other people, whom Sartre –let’s not forget- characterized as hell.”
Anton Chekhov also idealized boredom in many of his plays, like in Uncle Vania and Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot” remains without a doubt the manifesto of dullness, featuring characters that await for that bastard Godot who never makes an appearance and which proves boredom can be pro-active after all, because many had stood up and left the theatre from what I recall :-)) The New York author Richard Greenburg even wrote a book (titled “Take me out”) after a bout of boredom during one especially dull summer, during which he watched baseball matches on TV. Luckily I am not  that desperate. Brenda Way, choreographer, likes to sit and think when stuck in a jammed highway: She believes it aids her involuntary voyage to creativity by using her unconscious powers at those precise moments.

Made by nose Olivia Giacobetti, who is famous for her light compositions that are like Winslow Homer paintings, Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce is typically her style and seems very fit for such moments. It's an interpretation of freshness without acidulated, fusing or sparkling notes and it reminds me of the style that Jean Claude Ellena later explored in one of his "cologne" duo, called Eau de Gentiane Blanche. The two fragrances do not smell the same, but they share a similar sensibility and apparently a generous smothering of ambrette seed.
Featuring an airy and totally linear formula, Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce begins with linden and lots of "clean" orange blossom water, like the flower water used to sprinkle Mediterranean cookies with, segueing on to hay- like (coumarin?) and woody notes, it finishes off with a kiss of white musk and the bitterish ambrette like newly washed bed-clothes envelopping your showered body. It's all purity, all light! Uncomplicated, easy, soft, lastingly diaphanous, evoking the dew caressing grass in a field and on wild rose bushes, the freshness of lime trees and the warm scent of freshly cut hay; a fragrance that has no aspirations of creating discussion, but only of making you feel good about yourself! The whole projects at a white radiant frequency which must be as close to seraphic cool places as possible without actually hitting the bucket.

Whatever your camp is (and I suppose you still run a pulse if you're reading right now), Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce manages to smell like it is the best thing to exonerate the bad and amplify the good aspects of boredom.

The original bottle of Extrait de Songe is a beautiful lavender blue degrade cylinder (the colour becomes more saturated on the bottom) with plain, silver sprayer, now a collector's item. The newer bottle under L'Eté en Douce follows the typical L'Artisan packaging with label in lavender blue.

Notes for L'Artisan Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce:mint, rose, orange blossom and white musk

Please note: another fragrance by L'Artisan has just recently changed name, namely Vanille Absolument which used to be Havana Vanille (2009).

Inspired by a euro2day comment. Pic of kitten got sent to me by email, unaccredited. L'Ete en Douce bottle pic via duftarchiv.de

Perfumery Material: Fig, Between Woody and Succulent

The scent of figs is amazing and unique among fruits; succulent, juicy, milky sap green with a bitter edge when unripe. Pairing a few slices of prosciutto with fresh figs and grapes is an exercise in pure hedonism...But apart from the quality of the fruit, the ambience of the whole tree, the crisp verdancy with the almost fuzzy leaves, the nubile bitter stems, the tough bark and the resinous freshness of the sap, its shade and all, is a major constituent to its charms. It's not hard to imagine how one would long to capture that summer solace from the scorching sun of the Mediterranean in a fragrance to put on in the darker days of autumn to evoke summery pleasures. Or how the fig leaf has retained an added sensuality thanks to its traditional imagery of hiding many a pudenda in art. Dusty or glossy, bitter or sweetish and hazy or succulent, the varied universe of fig fragrances is winking at us to impart of the joys of the here and now before more sinister thoughts detach us from sensual pleasures.

via flickr.com/photos/xerones (some rights reserved)

Fig in Perfumery: How to Synthesize a Fig Note 

 The recreation of the smell of fig trees in perfumery is possible thanks to two crucial ingredients: stemone and octalactone gamma. Stemone (Givaudan tradename) imparts a green, fresh tonality like mint that combined with octalactone gamma (prune-like) evokes the earthy, sticky green of fig leaves (a smell of dry earth, scorched by the sun of a hot place with a hint of bitterness) and the milky sap of the young fruit. The always handy Hedione (a fresh jasmine note, Firmenich tradename) and Iso-E Super (a dynamic and shape-shifting woody synthetic, IFF tradename) are often utilized to bring “lift” to the genre.

 The best fig-centered fragrances balance the warmer and cooler tonalities and recreate the ambience of sitting under the shady branches while breaking open the naughtily-shaped fruit: likened to male genitalia when whole and female ones when cut into halves, figs are an evocative fruit in more sensual ways than one. Could that be one of the reasons the voluptuous Christina Hendricks loves a particular fig scent so much?

via kapuciner.blogspot.com

Fig Fragrances: The Historical Milestones 

The first soli-fig fragrance was Premier Figuier (meaning “first fig tree”) stating its innovation at hello, launched by L’Artisan Parfumeur and composed by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti. Still one of the very best out there, it conjures a vivid image of late August days spent in the Greek countryside when cicadas are loudly singing around at the scorching hour of noon and people hot and weary from a sea dip are sitting beneath the shade of the fig tree to enjoy their Spartan meal of fresh fruit and cool still water. The coconut curls note is rounding the foliage with just the right sweetness and provides a euphoric touch.

Olivia Giacobetti went on to create another emblematic and still highly regarded fig scent for Diptyque and my personal favorite: Philosykos. This time the homage to Greece which is characteristic in the Diptyque scents line anyway (the founders being fond of vacationing at their house in mount Pelion and trekking through the Athos peninsula in search of herbs) is evident in the name; the scent was inspired by a dreamy vacation in Greece. Philosykos means “friend of figs” in Greek (much like Phillip is the friend of horses). And one wouldn’t be hard-pressed to see how anyone who likes the fig tree and its connotations would fall madly in love with this gem of a scent! Supported by the more robust cedar wood note, the green note of leaves is nicely mellowed. Diptyque also do a less complex but equally welcoming Figuier candle and room spray.

via heartofgoldandluxury.blogspot.com

Giacobetti in an unstoppable strain of fig-producing mode went on to create an Eau de Parfum version to the best-selling Premier Figuier, baptized Premier Figuier Extreme, highlighting the rounder elements and extending its stay. This EDP version even has its own fig-shaped limited edition bottle! Both lines have matching and faithful home fragrances in the form of sprays and scented candles which recreate a paradisial, calming atmosphere at home for when you want to bring back those lazy summer days of skulking aimlessly and relax.

Another great approximation to the scent of the fig tree and its ambience is A la Figue by Satellite. A study (fugue) on fig, it’s delectable, piquantly bittersweet and dustily green just like the imposing trees themselves are. So is Carthusia’s unisex Io, an aromatic composition with tea leaves inspired by the majestic villa the Emperor Tiberius built on Capri.

Nevertheless, much as realism is admired in perfumery when recreating a certain smell, one could not leave out impressionism. And herein enters one of the most individual and unique renditions of figs in recent perfumery, the one which Jean Claude Ellena proposed for Hermes with his first Jardin offer, Un Jardin en Mediterranée. Inspired by a plate of fresh figs, offered by a young woman, hot (so to speak) off the branch in a garden in Tunisia, the scent presents the bitter, sharp and yet imposing qualities that the inspiration behind it must have conjured in its creator’s mind like taking in the serene paysage and the introspective, philosophical thoughts the latter surely triggered. The fragrance’s coolness and vegetal feel, comparable to tomato leaf, is truly imaginative.

Miller Harris with her Figue Amère is proposing another fig off the beaten path. The salty, slightly bitter impression of the composition is perhaps a nod to the usual accompaniment of figs in the countries where they’re consumed by the gallon: salty cheese. Salt at once cuts down on bitterness and rounds out flavors, providing the perfect backdrop for such a central idea as unripe figs. Complimentary notes of ambery fir balsam, shady violet leaves, bitter angelica and citric hesperidia demand an inquisitive and adventurous soul to carry it off with panache.

The most perverse and love-it-or-hate-it fig fragrance however has to be Womanity by Thierry Mugler. There is a watery-sweet note on top which is very unusual: The fruity note passingly resembles that in Un Jardin En Mediterranée or Figue Amère by Miller Harris, but whereas the warmth co-existed with the cool in the Hermès fragrance, laid on thin over the green notes, and it was bitterish-cool in the Miller Harris, in Womanity the figs have caramelised. Their succulent flesh id more apparent in the sun than the leaves or the bark of the tree, with a nod to fig cookies as well. And then the salty note, said to evoke caviar!! Its intimate, lightly animalic quality is musky and intriguing and shows the frontier options to bypass.

via bigpouffyskirt.blogspot.com

Modern interpretations 

Jo Malone in the line’s usual luminous, diaphanous style presents Wild Fig and Cassis, marrying the sourness of cassis with their ammoniac note with the sweeter aspects of the fig fruit in a simple game of a contrasting duet. Guerlain on the other hand opted for the delicate and earthy-powdery anchor of iris along with the house’s characteristic sweet vanilla note in their playful fruity-accented Figue Iris. The fragrance forms part of the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria line, a collection of refreshing simple colognes that partake of beloved materials in simple compositions.

More tropical nuances reminiscent of beach vacations and sunscreen lotion are explored in Coco Figue by Comptoir Sud Pacifique, a French line in aluminum cans fit for travelling and inspired by exotic locales, as well as by Fresh in their Fig Apricot where two summery fruits conspire to give a delectable treat that tempts to be eaten rather than dabbed.

Other fig fragrances in the niche sector include: Ninfeo Mio by Annick Goutal (with its matching candle Sous le Figuier), Les Nez Turtle Vetiver Front, Fig & Garcons by Nez a Nez, Fico di Amalfi by Aqua di Parma Blu Mediterraneo, Fig Tree by Sonoma Scent Studio, Figuier Eden by Armani Privee, Hermessence Santal Massoia (Hermes), Fig Tea by Patricia de Nicolai, Byredo's Pulp, Fico Verde by Antica Farmacista, Sous le Figuier by M.Micallef, Figaro by Lubin, Aftelier's Fig built on all naturals, Bois et Fruits by Serge Lutens, Fresh Fig by Laura Mercier, Mediterranean Fig by Pacifica, and Henri Bendel's Wild Fig.

Even more mainstream brands have embraced the fig fad in their portfolio, starting with Marc Jacobs Men, Marc Jacobs Splash Fig, Island Capri by Michael Kors, and Versace Versence, all the way down to Bath & Body Works Brown Sugar & Fig, proving niche brands map out emerging markets.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Scents of the Mediterranean, Perfumery Raw Materials articles 

Do you like figs and fig scents? Which is your favorite?

L'Artisan Parfumeur Drole de Rose: fragrance review

A little girl watching her mother putting on her make up, getting ready for a night out. Nivea cream scent (with its special bouquet of aromatic essences) and violet-laced, fluffy, retro powder. Soft musky roses floating on a cream bowl. Pink satin pointes with long silken ribbons ... This could be a recipe for tisane-sipping and Fabio-jacketed novels for spinsters off to bed at eight in their pink liseuses; it ticks all the predictable "romantic roses" boxes. But it's not. Drôle de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur manages to bypass the staid for the cheerful and the delicate and to render old new again. You just need a bit of an edge to turn this into the playful fragrance it really is and not into something from your grandmother's vanity.

Sweet Smell of Cosmetics
Comparable to the retro nuances of Lipstick Rose (Frederic Malle), whereas in the latter the overt sweetness and lusciousness can upset a sensitive stomach ~such is the speckled rouge approach~ in Drôle de Rose everything is painted like a light stain. Plus the L'Artisan came many years before, in 1996, pre-emptying a niche trend by far. Perfumer Olivia Giacobetti was remembering the formative images of her childhood and the scent of makeup plays hugely in such scenarios. The combination of rose & violet has become a classic in recreating this effect, since most lipsticks were typically further aromatized with these essences to render the wax's smell less obtrusive.

I call these "mock makeup perfumes", fragrances evocative of cosmetics, putting me in a made-up mood before even hitting the top of the By Terry trousse de makeup, which is something one can appreciate when too bored to do one's face. Out of these scents, some go for the pancake-makeup glamour of the 1940s, thicker and lusher, Technicolor; Lipstick Rose as well as Broadway Nite (Bond No.9) opt for that effect, retro glamorous pin-up. Others go for transparency and a super-soft, kittenish hint of fluffy ivory fur with a hint of violet pastilles; to that category I put Meteorites by Guerlain, Love,Chloe (parfums Chloe) and indeed Drôle de Rose.  Giacobetti's sleight of hand plays hugely into giving this L'Artisan perfume an elegantly retro air without becoming stuffy, too sweet (though it is sweet all right) or too old. She's known for her transparent, restrained approach after all. Don't expect dark, menacing secrets and deep, meaningful confessions either. This is out for fun, pure and simple.

Scent Description
Drôle de Rose is L'ArtisanParfumeur's flirty, undeniably pretty, playful starlet, who's really a good and dainty girl through and through. The rather untranslatable name rather means something like "amusing rose", in the vein of "witty". The softly powdery accord of violets and geranium (which has a rosy scent) is given a greener, fluffier tinge via the magic of star anise. The classic "lipstick scent accord" forms the core of the fragrance; made up, lips stained rosy, elegantly ladylike, sweetly appealing. The real pull however is how the flowers are given a honeyed approach, with a non indolic and yet non soapy orange blossom water, as if one is sprinkling macaroons; a powdery feel with the trickery of irones (iris); and last but not least how the musky drydown sticks around more (but doesn't project too much) than what one would initially expect when given enough heat on skin and in the atmosphere. Contrasted with the camphoraceous, woody darkness of Voleur de Roses (based on the murky rose and patchouli), one can see how the latter is meant for autumn and rainy weather, while Drôle de Rose really blooms in late spring and summer. 

Even though one would be tempted to reference Paris by Yves Saint Laurent in this review, I feel that the intricate and powerful, gleaming approach in that rose-violet combo is miles removed from anything else and ultimately is its own thing: Really, I wouldn't expect necessarily loving both that and the greener, lighter, less sparkling Drôle de Rose...If you want something similar, rather try Emilie by Fragonard.

Notes for L'Artisan Parfumeur Drole de Rose: rose, star anise, orange blossom, white iris, violet, almond, honey, leather

pic of a young Liz Taylor via chocolate-memoirs.blogspot.com

L'Artisan Parfumeur Mandarine: fragrance review

Mandarine by L'Artisan Parfumeur began its "career" under a different guise: a limited edition bottle for summer 2006 under the name Mandarine Tout Simplement (i.e. Simply Mandarin), along with the regular line launch of Fou d'Absinthe, based on absinth. Mandarine is recently re-issued in the regular bottles of L'Artisan, in 50ml/1.7oz size, so it's fitting to give it a review.

Extremely true to the mandarin fruit, succulent and fresh and tart, Mandarine by L'Artisan Parfumeur is really as if you have piched your nails on the rind of a ripe mandarin, juice dribbling down your fingers, the tartness almost spritzing you in the eye. Then it fans out into a little indeterminable wood accord, of which cedar seems to be the main note. It's pretty simple and unadorned by weighty accents.
The succulent, lightly peachy-bubblegum note that you might detect after a while is due to frangipani. Nevertheless, this is not at all a floral perfume by any means, nor a floral fruity either. It stays resolutely within the realm of fruity woody. As soon as one sprays Mandarine one is transported to a sunny place, with a bowl of fruits on the porch and a summery frock on. Sunglasses optional : this is a friendly , not aloof scent at all. Rather sweet, but the tartness keeps it from being cloying.

Perfumer Olivia Giacobetti is known for her unusual watery creations that are far from the "marine" type of frags so typical of the 90s (witness the watery ambience in Navegar or her Preparation Parfumee for Andree Putman) and her beloved dough/yeast note (as in the cucumber-watery lilacs of En passant ), but here I can detect none. That's a good thing to me personally, because sometimes they ruin the perfume for me.
Mandarine makes you go "ahhhhh" at first sniff , but then it disappears suddenly. I have no trouble with most L'artisan fragrances and their staying power (I regularly wear Premier Figuier, Timbuktu,Oeillet Sauvage without problems to give you an idea), but of course citrus and hesperidic notes are volatile to begin with, hence the swift evaporation. For those who complain about short-lived staying power, that might be a concern. Now that it comes in a 50ml bottle, it would be a "killer" to have in your bag and spray away at the first opportunity.

More info on availability &shopping on the L'Artisan site.

Which is YOUR preferred fruity fragrance for summer? 

Painting of Mandarins via Sadie e Valeri blog

Honore des Pres Vamp a NY: fragrance review

Forget everything you might associate with vamps, vampires or New York City; Vamp à NY by all naturals line Honoré des Prés is the perfect Hitchcockian MacGuffin. It's a fragrance that begs to be worn by someone intelligent enough to not have any aspirations of appearing brainy; someone with fuschia painted lips popping a gigantic pink bubblegum just for the heck of it or at the very least soap bubbles at a party. Or, else, by someone sporting the XY chromosome and enough humour to not be afraid to challenge smartly. Anything else and it would be a travesty. But the name is essential to the (misleading) plot.



Vamp à NY by Honoré des Prés opens on a typical light camphor note (via tuberose absolute, which also smells a bit like buttered/creamed pop corn with peaches sliced on top, due to the lactone content; see more of that "peaches n' cream" effect on Péché Cardinal) and segues into a rum-like booziness. A logical choice on the part of perfumer Olivia Giacobetti because of the coconut nuances of both the flower and the tropical associations this exotic bloom brings to mind. Indeed the hint of vanillic coconut recalls tanning oils, making this one tuberose fragrance which leans most to the tropical side than almost anything else. The effect thrives on a balsamic quality about it that were it an oriental we would be talking about a snuggly cashmere sweater scent. But it's its summery equivalent.
The intensely sweet, profusely fruity progression is full of pink jasmine (and I think I smell ylang ylang with a hint of sassafras) which naturally recalls those giant pink Bazooka bubblegums we popped as children. March notes it holds "a peculiarly synthetic quality to [her] nose — it’s just sooo much and so odd, with its root beer, banana Runts and vanilla-caramel Sugar Daddy." Luckily for me, I don't have these particular American childhood associations, funny as she makes them to be, but I can see how this would be a polarising scent.

Needless to say, if you're opposed to sweet white florals en masse, you need to steer clear away without further thought; this is, despite its botanical provenance (100% certified organic ingredients), a VERY sweet floral! Those who can appreciate the buttery quality of intensely flowery Fracas however might find that the addition of Vamp à NY into the tuberose canon is not only a sort of homage but also a thoughtful and truly wonderful chapter; a luscious scent!
The necessity to own this delightfully campy & fun fragrance only comes when comparing with other tuberose/"huge white floral scents": Fracas is similarly buttery, yet grander and with more pronounced oomph, making it more of an entrance perfume. Carnal Flower is greener overall with a mock sophistication beneath its easy veneer. Tubéreuse Criminelle is truer to vampirism than this one; it's cool, silkier, with a more mentholated opening. Compared with Manoumalia, the latter is earthy, with more vetiver, certainly less sweet than Vamp à NY, intent as the former is on the fragrea blossom and the hint of spice. Nuit de Tubéreuse is more complex with a mildew thing going on, possibly stemming from a desire to appear brainier than it is. Vamp à NY actually mostly resembles the mood and feel of Songes, especially in Eau de Toilette concentration, which is of course full of ylang ylang, and it also reminded me of the little-known (and very rare now) original version of Jour de Fête by L'Artisan Parfumeur ~when the brand was still run by Jean Laporte and this was a quirky white floral scent, instead of a nutty gourmand)

Quiet sillage with rather good lasting power for a botanical fragrance makes it even more enjoyable; I'm sorely tempted to search for more!


Notes for Vamp à NY by Honoré des Prés:
Top: tuberose, rum
Heart: Bourbon vanilla
Base: tuberose, Peru balsam, Tolu balsam, benzoin

Vamp à NY by Honoré des Prés (a niche brand directed by Christian David) is part of the "New York Collection" which debuted at French Colette and is now available at select stockists. The 2010 collection includes three fragrances: I Love les Carottes, Love Coco and Vamp à NY, created of 100% natural ingredients by perfumer Olivia Giacobetti. These organic fragrances are packed in an unconventional way; as depicted, the bottles of 50ml Eau de Parfum come in plastic cups similar to those in which New Yorkers take out their coffee in.
Misleading!

Photograph by John Rawlings for a vintage Vogue photoshoot.

L'Artisan Extrait de Songe/L'Ete en Douce: fragrance review

Essence of a dream, that is Extrait de songe, was the very poetic name of a limited edition “clean”perfume for summer 2005 by L’artisan Parfumeur. The latter lost a legal battle over the coveted name with Annick Goutal who had the name Songes (=dreams) copyrighted for her own, completely different, floriental composition. Hence the lovely Extrait de Songe became extinct... Later it was rechristened as L'Eté en Douce (playing on a French idiom, meaning "summer is sneaking up on you") and entered the L'Artisan portfolio as a re-issue.
However many perfume fans say the fragrance in either name smells quite close to another older L’artisan offering, one of the Moodswings coffret, Lazy Mood, developed by the same perfumer, Olivia Giacobetti. This got me thinking.

Laziness, boredom, dullness….all of these words bring to mind the languorous days of a really hot summer, when one isn’t energized enough to actively do anything except sleep. We had a long bout of this in the summer and am afraid we will get it again soon enough.
When I am talking hot, I am not talking Canada “hot”. Nor Germany “hot”. These are euphemisms. These are mere bleeps on the radar of hotness, never managing to register with me. (It’s actually my preferred weather: if only we had 28 degree Celsius half the year long...)
I am talking 39-40 degrees hell hot, all red and fiery; when your own skin is becoming revolting to you and you want to tear it apart with one swift gesture like an overzealous Russian waxer with steroid-enhanced arms; when hair sticks on your forehead inviting you to turn into a travesty of a skinhead; when sticky liquid oozes off your pores just by sitting around doing nothing. Yes, you’ve guessed it: I hate those moments with a passion.
The “noon devil” of the hermits of Egypt, which draws out every speck of physical and mental vitality, is my personal nemesis.

However it is a small comfort that Extrait de songe/L'Eté en Douce exists for providing the illusion of a clean, cool, white cotton sheet that can be wrapped all around one and provide some solace from the scorching sun. Sloth according to Kirkegaard is the source of all evil. Wordsworth described it as “wild dullness”. It is considered one of the seven deadly sins by the Catholic church. Hamlet refers to the world as “tiresome, plain and dull” which probably explains why he never lifts a hand to actually do anything except talk for the better part of the play.
Samuel Butler says that boredom is a kind of spiritual failure, since the person who lets himself to emote it is more despicable than boredom itself.
But is it so bad, really? I wonder…

Billy Collins, the poet, calls boredom paradise itself. “It’s the blessed absence of things that the world offers as interesting such as fashion, media, and other people, whom Sartre –let’s not forget- characterized as hell.”
Anton Chekhov also idealized boredom in many of his plays, like in Uncle Vania and Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot” remains without a doubt the manifesto of dullness, featuring characters that await for that bastard Godot who never makes an appearance and which proves boredom can be pro-active after all, because many had stood up and left the theatre from what I recall :-)) The New York author Richard Greenburg even wrote a book (titled “Take me out”) after a bout of boredom during one especially dull summer, during which he watched baseball matches on TV. Luckily I am not that desperate. Brenda Way, choreographer, likes to sit and think when stuck in a jammed highway: She believes it aids her involuntary voyage to creativity by using her unconscious powers at those precise moments.

Made by nose Olivia Giacobetti, who is famous for her light compositions that are like Winslow Homer paintings, Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce is typically her style and seems very fit for such moments. It's an interpretation of freshness without acidulated, fusing or sparkling notes and it reminds me of the style that Jean Claude Ellena later explored in one of his "cologne" duo, called Eau de Gentiane Blanche. The two fragrances do not smell the same, but they share a similar sensibility and a generous smothering of ambrette seed.
Featuring an airy and totally linear formula, Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce begins with linden and lots of "clean" orange blossom water, like the flower water used to sprinkle Mediterranean cookies with, segueing on to hay- like (coumarin?) and woody notes, it finishes off with a kiss of white musk and the bitterish ambrette like newly washed bed-clothes envelopping your showered body. It's all purity, all light! Uncomplicated, easy, soft, lastingly diaphanous, evoking the dew caressing grass in a field and on wild rose bushes, the freshness of lime trees and the warm scent of freshly cut hay; a fragrance that has no aspirations of creating discussion, but only of making you feel good about yourself! The whole projects at a white radiant frequency which must be as close to seraphic cool places as possible without actually hitting the bucket.

Whatever your camp is (and I suppose you still run a pulse if you're reading right now), Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce manages to smell like it is the best thing to exonerate the bad and amplify the good aspects of boredom.

The original bottle of Extrait de Songe is a beautiful lavender blue degrade cylinder (the colour becomes more saturated on the bottom) with plain, silver sprayer, now a collector's item. The newer bottle under L'Eté en Douce follows the typical L'Artisan packaging with label in lavender blue.

Notes for L'Artisan Extrait de Songe/L'Eté en Douce:mint, rose, orange blossom and white musk

Please note: another fragrance by L'Artisan has just recently changed name, namely Vanille Absolument which used to be Havana Vanille (2009).

Inspired by a euro2day comment. Pic of kitten got sent to me by email, unaccredited. L'Ete en Douce bottle pic via duftarchiv.de

Honore des Pres fragrances by Olivia Giacobetti: presentation & perfume reviews

A capella, the musical term that denotes singing without supporting instrumental accompaniment is the analogy that Honoré des Prés, a new niche brand, is bringing to illustrate their unadulterated pureness due to nothing more than Nature's and the artist's gift.
In essence, this is a new line of organic fragrances 100% natural and EcoCert organic (the company uses the term Purs Extraits de Nature), using natural materials from Robertet in Grasse, famous for its quality products.
Although a fervent desire for "green" products has been raising its head for a while and the cosmetics and skincare industry had been attending to that need for quite some time with honest and not-so-honest claims, the all-naturals fragrance niche was circulating below the radar for too long, often due to "mud-slinging" via well-known critics who de facto dished the whole aesthetic and concept as either fundamentalist leftism or air-headed paganistic feminism. Sometimes indeed some fragrances are not on a par, but not always. We're pleased that this is slowly changing, even with tiny, baby steps, now that Melvita and L’Artisan Parfumeur*, as well as American brands like Tsi-La and Rich Hippie, have jumped on the bandwagon. And what better example to illustrate it than a Parisian brand, fronted by an industry-renowed perfumer? The name of the line itself is a contraction of rue Faubourg Saint-Honoré and Saint-Germain-des-Prés, very bourgeois endroits in Paris. The founder was allegedly inspired by his sister, Bonté, who on one sad rainy afternoon, sipping something at Café de Flore apparently taken by the spleen, wondered about such a possibility wishing "to be free to love remarkably original scents" that would not trigger asthma attacks. Or so the story goes!

Honoré des Prés teamed up with fragrance designer Olivia Giacobetti, one of the most talented noses of the younger generation to whom we owe numerous compositions for such prestigious houses as L’Artisan Parfumeur, Agnès b., Hermès and her own baby, IUNX fragrances. Giacobetti is famous among perfumephiles for the way she highlights transparent creations with arresting, figurative effects and she showcased her style amply here. The line is comprised of 5 perfumes all launched in 2008: Chaman's Party , Bonté’s Bloom, Nu Green, Sexy Angelic and Honoré’s Trip. It is the last one which ~as per the official info~ was composed for and by Honoré (whoever he is) himself (whatever that means).
The fragrances themselves are pleasant and refreshing with varying degrees of interest to my nose. My friend Denyse (Carmencanada from Grain de Musc) was quite taken with the style exhibited in her own reviews, wondering: "How did she manage to make fragrances that actually smell pretty much like fine perfumery, given her constraints?" and "there isn’t a whiff of health-store self-righteousness in them; at no time, thankfully, does aromatherapy spring to mind." I'd have to agree with these pronouncements and plunge into a more detailed deconstruction henceforth:

Chaman's Party
Starting with the most substantial in terms of heft, Giacobetti exhibits a smokey, almost incensy side with an earthy vetiver-and-woods accord built on Haitian vetiver and smooth guaiac (lignum vitae) that lasts rather well. The brand talks about "top secret aphrodisiac ingredients" on the top notes as well as it being inspired by "a tree-house experience and total immersion in the heart of the virgin Amazon forest". Let's just say that should the former and the latter be actually combined I wouldn't want to stay around to see the mosquitos; never mind the snakes! Still, the shamanistic vibe proclaimed is audible and the composition is slowly roaring its sensuous and mysterious message. I was absent-mindedly oblivious to both the "sacred" basil of Egypt (I assume Ocimum sanctum which is more pungent than the sweeter varities, but also ritualistically used in ancient Egyptian funeral wreaths) and the "dried clove flowers of Madagascar" (call me clou de girofle) while it lasted, as I was completely immersed in the depths of vetiver, but they contribute nicely to the effect. It's good juice, dry and mystical, and won't contribute to having your perfumista card revoked.

Bonté’s Bloom
Effortlessly pastoral and my favorite of the line, Bonté's Bloom has an immediately appealing lustre of green-grey pearls scattered on a silky antique pashmina, rendered through the fuzziness of sage and chamomille which might be the very infusions Bonté was sipping on that rainy afternoon when the epiphany of an all natural line came in the imaginary tale told on the Honoré des Prés site. A delicate, subtly powdery floral ~thanks to a smidgen of orris~ with herbal touches, it epitomizes the individual style of an unpretentious romantic who enjoys long walks along the sunflower fields when the sun is slowly progressing on its nadir. Then again I have been known to enjoy this sort of mad Van Gogh à la campagne before and to its credit, it lasts for a while on my skin.

Nu Green
Officially said to be based on mint, rose and Indian botanical musk (they must be referring to ambrette seed/abelmoschus moschatus) on a backdrop of tarragon and cedarwood, the composition opens swiftly in a rather rosy-ambrette note that reminds me of No.18 by Chanel garlanded by leafy greens, and not anything else I can discern but even this dissipates in a flash, leaving only a trail of indescribeable nuance. A case of name being true to the scent!

Sexy Angelic
Almondy gourmands have a huge following among perfume wearers and the reason is not hard to see: Gustatory touches appease both the glutton in us and the dieter who has cravings denied. Although I am not exception to either the glutton or the dieter, personally I am not this genre's greatest fan with select few exceptions. All too often they have a reputation of sexiness as well, which is making an appearance through the official info here: "Inspired by a deliciously sweet experience of French candies from Aix-en-Provence (ie.calissons). The pure secret of seduction used by French women to meet their Prince Charming. It is currently used for a game between boys and girls in nightclubs, in luxury hotels or in the office". I'd like to know what sort of game that is which is fit for both the office and the luxury hotels. Is it naughty? Ah, OK, if it's in luxury hotels... I couldn't operate if it were cheap ones! Seriously, if this weren't tongue-in-cheek (which it is) but rivaling the Elixir Charnels claims one would expect the worst.
And yet Giacobetti exhibits an interesting, clearly three-tiered compositions here: First, there is the anisic and bitter almond opening which evokes a box of almond macaroons fresh off the oven; not my thing but probably just the thing for 99,99% of people and even I have to admit it's perfectly executed. Then there is the least appealing -to me- phase in which a seemingly magnolia-like aroma is entering with a hint of lemony, ahem, intimate male juice note. My opposition lies not in the potential "gross" factor but the incongruity with a gourmand concept (it works mighty fine in Sécrétions Magnifiques for instance). And last but not least a creamy, milky, almost sandalwood-like drydown that stays as a skin-scent for a little bit and is yummy.

Honoré’s Trip
This hesperidic cologne is of the refreshing kind which one can imagine on athletic types who have a run through the lawn even before they drink their first cup of coffee green-algae-froth of the day and then put their tennis gear to hit the court in earnest. Big on orange and mandarin with some spicy touch that provides a welcome piquancy to the wholesome, it's pleasant, but not earth-shattering and I can justify its inclusion because of the need of a citrus cologne in a line that puts so much emphasis on natural essences (The essential oils of hesperidic fruits are amazingly easy to extract even by hand and thus tangibly visible and "real" to the consumer).

The downside of the fragrances is they are very fleeting (according to Octavian to the point of being eaux fraîches), some more than others, due to the very nature of most natural materials and the lack of the usual synthetics that help anchor and make radiate most of the fragrances of other lines, such as synthesized musks (Galaxolide, Tonalide etc) or woodies/florals (IsoE super, Lilial et al) or even flower absolutes (those necessitate the use of volatile solvents which have been veto-ed by the specific line and EcoCert, although other all-naturals perfumers use them to good effect)
Alas, longevity is a sore point for many all-naturals fragrances which is technically difficult to surpass even for the most talented, such as Giacobetti. The drawbacks of masochistically choosing to compose a translucid, diaphanous opus present themselves even more as the naturally thick and viscous natural resins and balsams that could have been utilized for a perfume equivalent of a Baroque oil painting (orientals, deep chypres) do not lend themselves easily in aquarelles.
On the other hand, the fragrances contain no phthalates (a major concern for pregnant women as recent studies indicate the risk of producing male foetuses with endocrine problems and subsequent testicular cancer), no petrochemicals, no additional colourings, no animal ingredients and they are not tested on animals; and if you are concerned with those things you should be more than catered for, even if for a brief while.

Eau de toilette spray 100 ml, between 128€ and 148€. Official site: Honoré des Prés. (The site is charmingly tongue-in-cheek and upbeat, with an imaginary clan of des Prés uttering various ~isms and thus worth a visit!)
Currently available only in France but with plans to bring them in the US later on.

Photo © by Helg/Perfumeshrine

*I have been recently informed by my reader Trish that L'artisan exclude petrochemicals and phthalates from their formulae.