Givenchy L'Interdit Eau de Parfum Rouge: fragrance review

 Glamour fragrances go hand in hand with the celebrities who endorsed them. No myth is stronger than the tie of Marylin Monroe with Chanel No 5 Parfum or Audrey Hepburn with L'Interdit by her preferred couturier Givenchy from the 1950s. Whereas No.5 has retained its core formula to the best of the brothers Wertheimers' ability, rendering the contemporary versions recognizably No.5, the same cannot be said for L'Interdit Eau de Parfum by Givenchy from 2018 and its subsequent editions - especially L'Interdit Eau de Parfum Rouge Givenchy (2021).

That does not mean at all that it is not worthwhile or that it does not reflect some semblance of a vintage advantage. Although vintage fragrances belonging to specific genres suffer from a sort of incompatibility with the modern tastes of the market nowadays, such as the aldehydic floral, the mossy chypre, or the spicy oriental, there are elements that can salvage a core idea into a timeless quality. Despite an embarrassment of riches in having three top perfumers vying to make it worthy (usually a sign of despair in my personal books), L'Interdit Eau de Parfum Rouge by Givenchy is excellent because it retains that precarious balance between a contemporary fragrance, yet with vintage elements, making it a recurring theme from the past extended into four dimensions, like it's traveling interstellar mode.

 
The classic combination of the amber-floral chord, a sweet hesperide, a white floral, and a woody base of sandalwood with ambery tonalities, is lifted through two or three specific jarring points, which provide the interlocutor suspense.
First, a cherry note that is oh-so-modern. Cherry scent molecules have trickled down to floor cleaners by now because the trajectory of the industry from top to bottom of the ladder has increased so rapidly, but two years back, it was still kind of novel and ground-breaking.

Secondly, there is a spicy component, but not just any spice. Beyond the dated cloves references (which recall the best days of Ernest Daltroff for Caron), there is ginger which, via its Asian reference, is very contemporary and sort of multi-culti too. Thirdly, there is a pimento leaf note, which adds to the green-spicy garlands but tends to withhold the headache-y allusions to the oriental spicy fragrances from the 1980s.

The end result is a contemporary fragrance with a very satisfying tie to the past. There is no direct reference in glossy publications and influencer videos on social media that Audrey Hepburn actually wore this version of L'Interdit Eau de Parfum Rouge like they often -still!- do with the revamped version from 2018 (L'Interdit Eau de Parfum Givenchy), but it is a fragrance that reflects glamour, elegance, plush and a true sense of chic.

Prada Paradoxe: fragrance review

 It was a full seven years since Prada introduced an entirely new perfume for either gender, exploiting its established lines all this time. To my disappointment, the new women's pillar fragrance, Prada Paradoxe, fell short. It's a women's fragrance, yes, like periods are womanly, and it's clean like we're supposed to smell, sanitized.

journaldeluxe.fr

But that's a pity, as it could be so much more. Especially from a pink colored bottle and box, one expects a touch of irreverence, as they did with the wonderful gourmand of Prada Candy - perfect from start to finish, the witty campaign most of all.

In her directorial debut, Emma Watson was said to embrace all her multiple dimensions – the artist, the activist, the actor, the woman – "in a dynamic, liberating film that captures the empowered spirit of Prada Paradoxe."

 

The usual suspect, Daniella Roche-Andrier, isn't behind this Prada creation. Three other perfumers are credited with creating Paradoxe. Usually, this fills me with trepidation. Surely one vision split in three, fixed here and there, means that rather than a collaboration of creativity, it is a project that needed multiple sessions in the drawing room to discuss faults and effects? I might be judging too harshly. The perfumers are certainly renowned and respected. I feel this is more of an odd corporate decision on the part of L'Oreal, who own the license for Prada fragrances, after taking over from Puig.

 fubiz

The initial olfactory impression of Paradoxe by Prada is equal parts fruity and floral, nectarous with orange blossom, with a resemblance to both My Way and Libre by YSL, oddly enough.

It then breaks apart and becomes sweeter and somewhat muskier, without abanding the shampoo cleanliness of its core message. Its creamy musk with touches of soft suede is held on the skin for a long time, but the fruit dissipates. Yet with so many floral woody muskies on the market at the moment, what is the purpose of another one in Prada Paradoxe that becomes less than the sum of its parts?

Eau d'Italie Magnolia Romana: fragrance review

 The beauty of the gigantic blossoms of magnolia is their happy citrusy freshness: I always find myself surprised that the sheer awe the blossom creates, in terms of visual volume (their size is quite something!) is transliterated into a scent that is airy, crystalline, and quite delicate. Spare a thought for the contrast of the heavy and trickily intoxication that jasmine absolute stands for in relation to the minuscule flower itself. In Eau d'Italie's Magnolia Romana the airiness of the blossom is highlighted through a very appropriate watery and ozonic accord that embraces the waxy flower, and makes it seem even fresher, as if it's still attached on the tree where it blossomed. 

The addition of a piquant green note (a hint of spice) and the clear orange blossom (which is treated to turn very soapy) are further additions which reinforce that impression of rejuvenation. This effect not only faithfully recreates the necessary natural ambience around the magnolia tree, it also corresponds well to the ambience implied by the brand's name: Italy. The company was founded on the premises of the Hotel La Sinenuse at Positano, a beautiful little town off the coast of Amalfi in the south of Italy.

It's true that magnolias don't grow in soils and climes that are not warm, being almost sub-tropical in categorization, and the environment of temperate Italy is adequately conductive, especially now with global warming (there's the lone nice side-effect of it...) So if you're living somewhere where the climate zone prohibits enjoying the elation and optimism that such a sunny, open blossom as the magnolia evokes, Magnolia Romana might do the trick, all year round, to bring Italian spring into your life.

Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her: fragrance review

There are brands conceived to claim something very potent, to break with the mold of their times, and to establish themselves in the market, spawning a thousand variations on their theme in their wake. Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her is not only a sort of a pioneer (albeit indirectly), coming out in the market as a "nouveau chypre"—a modern take on the mossy "chypre" family of perfumes—but also one of its most radiant representatives: it's hard not to notice a wearer of Narciso For Her, even though the scent itself isn't particularly pungent in any of its broken-apart constituents; not too harsh, too sweet nor too bitter, it's however very noticeable and radiates for miles.

via

Technically Narciso For Her is a floral woody musk, not a proper "chypre" perfume (chypres are a classic fragrance family of very perfume-y scents with a floral heart sandwiched between fresh bergamot on top and the tension of trickle-like, leather-smelling labdanum resin and mossy, inky oakmoss, from a parasite growing on oaks, in the less volatile stages of the fragrance's development) Narciso For Her instead constructs the scent on vetiver (a Far East grass with a fresh and earthy feel) and fractalized patchouli, meaning a "cleaned up" patchouli essence, manipulated in the lab to divest it of its more hippie-like facets for which the natural extract, with its dirty chocolate overtones, is famous.
The floral component in Narciso is all a fantasy of abstraction: the orange blossom and osmanthus notes are registering as an intense sweetness, but you cannot bring yourself to proclaim "this is X flower, that is Y." Fans often say it doesn't smell like perfume per se and this is its major draw.

The aromachemical Amberlyn (a variation on woody amber notes, another name for Ambrox) plus a cluster of musks supports the floralcy, but most importantly gives tremendous diffusion and lasting power, without gazing everyone in close proximity, the pitfall of many a potent fragrance. The ingenious quality of Ambrox is its ability to come into and out of focus at intervals without being perceived as anything concrete; the person wearing the scent or someone sitting close by that person isn't constantly aware of the potent aromachemical. This allows for the necessary breathing space, alongside the clean egyptian musk at the core of the Narciso For Her scent, but also the necessary time chasm that gives us license to re-appreciate a beautiful thing we have come in contact with. "Look. Turn away. Now look again." If that is the definition of a beautiful human being's impression on those who pass him/her by on the street, Narciso For Her is its analogy in scent terms; smell, now forget about it, then smell again and be charmed anew.

For a breakdown of the concentrations (eau de toilette, eau de parfum, musk oil etc) & flankers of Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her fragrance, refer to THIS GUIDE.

More Narciso Rodriguez fragrance reviews and news HERE.
Musk fragrances guide and reviews HERE.

Tauer Perfumes L'Air du Desert Marocain: fragrance review

So many of the fragrances inspired by lands steeped in spices and resins are redolent of the souk, of man made territories that ultimately take on a carte postale quality, so prone to the disillusionments of reality when one has been relying on armchair travelling leafing through Traveller and encyclopaedias. L'Air du Desert Marocain is different, because, rather than a man-infested territory, it evokes an expanse of land where the borders of orange-red skies and dry land mingle in the horizon making you feel as if you've glimpsed eternity for a split second.

via

It's hard to describe this Andy-Tauer-made marvel in a few words; it's both woody and animalic, floral and ambery oriental, all at once. The trademark ambreine that Tauer uses is very discernible, given the intensity of what feels like natural jasmine, or maybe a euphoric mingling of white flowers that recalls the orange trees which give welcome solace to the Moroccan traveler.

There are fragrances which you spray and go on about your day. This isn't one of them. The torrid complexity of dry heat, arid spice, sweet rosiness and deep, plush resinous notes which recall ancient pharmacopoeia, is capable of clearing a room if you're overzealous with the sprayer. But use it with tempered self-discipline and you can enjoy its luminous depths for days on end, on your skin as well as your clothes.

A single bottle will last you beyond your last will and testament. Very few fragrances can claim to deliver such tremendous value for money.

Hermes 24 Faubourg: fragrance review

Named after the famed "faux bourg" rue of Faubourg Saint-Honoré in the 8eme arrondisement in Paris, where the headquarters of the Dumas-family luxury house are situated, 24, Faubourg was immersed in luxury from the very beginning; to the manor born.

Like many perfume lovers I'm not averse to luxury per se. Luxury and luxuria pose an interesting thought; luxuria is the Latin name for...lust. One of the 7 deadly sins. Luxury lovers do lust over the objects of their desire, do they not?  Desire is sparked by lack. Lack creates eros, the urge to fill the lack, the platonic ideal of uniting two parts that once made a whole. It's a metaphorical concept. Explains why brands keep us on our toes searching for the part that's missing!

In rebelliousness against social class and perhaps due to anti-snobbism on my part (or is it just plain snobbism in reverse, I sometimes wonder?) I have refrained from conscious overt exhibition of the insignia of wealth and embracing the lowly and the humble on purpose. Look at that drugstore item, isn't it fabulous? And that Zara fragrance at a fraction of the cost of a designer one, yet made by Puig just the same? Who needs logos and frou frou, it's the quality in things that matters. The axiom of Coco Chanel has always guided me. It'd be quite inelegant to hang a 50 carat diamond from one's neck, as surely as it'd be gauche to hang a check from it. So why indulge in the luxuria of capitalism? Wanting more, exhibiting more?

I have been perfectly happy going for my esoteric woody incenses for everyday wear. People usually don't even ascribe the aromas emanating from my humble person as "perfume", even when they like them. It's not like Coco Mademoiselle, "hey, you're wearing perfume". I suppose it's like I just left Vespers or something or have been spending a lot of time at the library, which is not unusual come to think of it. I'm also big on white florals and on spicy orientals, though these have a harder time passing under the radar of "perfume awareness". Not that it really bothers me if they do make people notice. After all, many a time a potent scent has sparked an interesting conversation. People united by scent are people united at breath, it's a powerful connection.

The scent of 24, Faubourg is floral, undeniably floral, white floral drenched in honeyed tones, to be exact, not just "a floral".  It's the floral to end all florals, and yet it's not only floral. In its elaborate, Byzantine bouquet I can detect resins, balsams, fruit (fuzzy peaches and tangy citruses), a soft powderiness of orris, some wood, something intangible, something aching to overreach...Sounds like everything and the kitchen sink (same thought with the original feminine Boucheron ) and yet it is not that in effect. Instead, a perfectly judged, lush, satisfying, calorific, dare I say it, yes, I will, RICH effect comes out of that lovely bottle shaped like a carré silk scarf that the Dumas house is famous the world over for.
Although the orange blossom and the jasmine and the (rather less copious in the mix) gardenia owe as much to analytical chemistry as they owe to nature's laboratory, the experience feels like a silken thread woven by some exotic insect with beautiful wings in an engulfing tropical greenhouse.
The allusion to the sun is nowhere more evident than in the advertising images which reflect the golden, ambery aura of the scent. I wrote before that "solar notes" stand for warmth and luminosity and although this is not especially salicylates-focused, it does smell snuggly and jovial and reminiscent of the touch of the sun.

Perfect for the Indian Summer days and evenings we're going through then!

Elie Saab Le Parfum: fragrance review

Is it rather predictable that when consulted I invariably recommend that a bride smells Le Parfum by Elie Saab when considering fragrances for her wedding day, since beautiful wedding gowns have been designed by Lebanese designer Elie Saab throughout the years? We have also come to associate white florals with weddings, if only because the traditional orange blossoms to adorn the bride's hair are a tried & tested tradition; plus they look and smell magnificent.

brownie points for the observant |pic via

Elie Saab Le Parfum is a glorious orange blossom and jasmine composition (it contains both the south of France grandiflora and the denser Indian sambac variety), which embraces its wearer into a vision of beauty and splendour. It's regal, yet not too mature. It's sweet, thanks to the honeyed nectarous quality of the floral essences, but not vulgar sweet. It's ladylike, sure, but it hints at a velvety sensuality of silky limbs and thick hair brushing the shoulders.

Most importantly its brightness is conductive to the optimism that a wedding, surely the start of what is more essential, a common path in life, a marriage, heralds. And this is what is priceless. The only problem I can see with this fragrant choice is that bridesmaids would be elbowing each other, taking the perfume's name and designer name down for their own future nuptials.

Fendi Theorema: fragrance review

Now that perfumer Christine Nagel is at the helm of Hermès, looking back on her work for various brands reveals her core aesthetics; at once saturated and filled with light, like a Joseph M.W. Turner painting that foreshadows what's to come, namely Impressionism. Judging by her newest Eau de Rhubarbe Ecarlate and Galop, this heftiness-shot-with-brightness continues the sun path to its natural apex.

via 

With Fendi's Theorema, Italian for theorem, a proposition that has been proven to be true based on previously established statements, Nagel has taken a theme and brought it into its culmination. Namely the "Oriental perfume" that feels as comforting as nibbling chocolate by the fire, while at the same time retaining the plush luxury and sophistication that a proper womanly perfume fit for the salon should exude.

Fendi's Theorema, inexplicably discontinued much too soon (at least before the brand discontinued its entire line in order to bring out the newest project on the shelves) and at least as clamored for a resurrection as Laura Biagotti's Venezia, opens with the delectable alliance of orange and chocolate. The effect of the former is apparently accounted by two unusual citruses: tangelos and thai samuti. The chocolate is folded with sweet spices, amber and warm milky woods, such as sandalwood and rosewood; there's none of the austerity that woody notes usually provide. A touch of a classic, orientalized bouquet of flowers (orange blossom, ylang ylang, jasmine) gives just a tinge of ladylike proclivities. But Theorema is too good to stay on the ladies alone...and is extremely ripe for a resurrection as well.

Neela Vermeire Creations Pichola: fragrance review

The impressionistic school of perfumery seldom fails to fall victim of one or two cardinal sins. Either it won't replicate the received impression we, the audience, have of a particular referent (perversely enough there seems to be a collective "idea" of how particular places & things smell like), resulting in  confusion, despite adhering to the definition of the artistic term. Or the clarity of structure will be subordinate to the "harmonic" effects resulting in something that "falls apart on the blotter", as perfumers say. Not so with Pichola, the latest fragrance launch by the cult favorite niche fragrance brand Neela Vermeire Creations, overseen by a true perfumephile, its founder and guiding force, i.e. Neela, and composed by the steady hand of independent perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour.

Rie Rasmussen, Vogue UK December 2005, photographed by Norbert Schroeder via

Pichola was inspired by Lake Pichola in India, since the canon of Neela Vermeire Creations draw inspiration from the peninsula. But fear not, ye armchair traveler of little faith in your abilities of envisioning vast expanses of water with flowing flowers. Much as Pichola draws elements from the impressive scenery it is not a carte postale style of fragrance for Americans in need of issuing a passport. As Carson McCullers put it "We are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most of the places we have never known..."

Pichola is not a travel "selfie". This shape shifter of a fragrance has backbone, finesse and above all the charm that makes a fragrance go beyond the mere pretty into addictive.

It impressed me in that I have tried the scent three times and Pichola performed differently on ALL three occasions, which hasn't really happened before. You can blame it on Rio, I guess, but I did find that the temperature of my skin brought to the surface different elements.  The first time Pichola by Neela Vermeire projected as an intensely white floral with a cleaned up jasmine and orange blossom, plus a budding gardenia note. It gave me a nod of Pure Poison, to be honest, which was impressive since that one is a very loud (albeit beautiful perfume) and not  Bertrand Duchaufour's "style" (who is more subdued and much less obvious).
On the second testing Pichola was much milkier white floral and had a green-husks velvety touch floating about, like coconut and fig leaf (stemone, massoia lactone, something along those two lines) which did remind me of Duchaufour and his masterful translation of earthy tones and woody notes, such as in L'Artisan's Timbuktu. Third time it was distinctly orange blossom and lush, scrumptious but not really indolic tuberose, plus a sandalwood milkiness chased by a huge clean musk note.

This creature purred...and I purred with delight over it.


Fragrance Notes for Neela Vermeire Creations Pichola:
Top Notes
Neroli, Clementine, Bergamot, Cardamom, Cinnamon, Saffron, Juniper, Magnolia
Heart Notes
Orange blossom, Rose, Tuberose, Jasmine sambac, Ylang ylang
Base notes
Haitian vetiver, Benzoin, Sandalwood , Driftwood

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Neela Vermeire Fragrance Reviews & News: Trayee, Mohur, Bombay Bling
"Creamy" fragrances: scents of rich clotted cream 
Indolic vs. Non Indolic: White Florals of Passion
The Jasmine Series: Perfumes highlighting the King of Flowers

Guerlain's Mademoiselle Guerlain: fragrance commentary with photos

It may have come as no surprise that the latest addition to the Les Parisiennes boutique perfume collection by the historic house of Guerlain is called Mademoiselle Guerlain. Shades of Chanel (who was called Mademoiselle by everyone who knew her and whose Coco Mademoiselle fragrance is a huge best-seller) not withstanding, Guerlain injects a certain playfulness to the more "savvy" requiring boutique collection, clearly aimed at a consumer not burdened with the heritage of the vintage Guerlain perfume classics.

One has to wonder about who exactly is the regular customer of Les Parisiennes limited distribution line. Just look at the bright colors of the bottle juice in the latest additions. If I'm to pronounce a quick assessment on that score, I'd guess the Meteorites makeup customer would be especially attuned to the following color scheme...It's girly and upbeat and very "feminine" in the most traditional sense possible.

Mademoiselle Guerlain, a green floral fragrance composed by perfumer Thierry Wasser plays with the sweetness of marshmallow, the freshness of orange blossom and the softness of white musk. It also includes notes of orris, galbanum and a leather "accord", none of which are especially pronounced though they give a certain depth beyond the average teeny-bopper fruity scent out there.

Actually as reported earlier on these pages, Mademoiselle Guerlain is a re-edition of La Petite Robe Noire model 2, packaged in a more haute de gamme presentation, fetching the requisite higher price in its wake (a practice not unheard of at Guerlain in late years).  As you can see in the pics Mademoiselle Guerlain is encased in the familiar bee bottles of la maison Guerlain, containing 75ml, side by side with Nuit d'Amour, Mon Precieux Nectar or L'Heure de Nuit. Now available at escapes Guerlain.

Guerlain Shalimar Souffle de Parfum: New Fragrance

Souffle de Parfum, the breath of a fragrance, is the new declination of Shalimar, developed by the house of Guerlain. More than a new concentration (as the poetic name might let you think) it is a flanker fragrance, coat-tailing on a best-selling perfume and offering a new interpretation that smells different; in this case a light floriental.

The latest addition to the classic Shalimar perfume stable is composed by in house perfumer Thierry Wasser and features the following fragrance notes:

Guerlain Shalimar Souffle de Parfum
Top notes: bergamot, lemon, mandarin
Heart: jasmine, orange blossom
Base: vanilla, white musk

The fragrance is available as 30, 50 and 100 ml of Eau de Parfum concentration.

The rumour of Shalimar Souffle de Parfum replacing Shalimar Parfum Initial (eau de parfum) and Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau (eau de toilette) are persistent, while Guerlain hasn't confirmed officially as of time of writing.

For a comprehensive summary of the previous versions and limited editions of Guerlain Shalimar, see below and please consult the links for reviews.

Flankers/derivative versions of Shalimar by Guerlain (with linked reviews & comparison with original):
Shalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar Light
Eau de Shalimar
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille sur la Route de Madagascar
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille sur la Route de Mexique
Shalimar Parfum Initial
Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau
Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau Si Sensuelle
Limited editions of Shalimar (without change in the perfume formula itself):
Eau de Shalimar Flower
Shalimar Charms edition & Eau de Shalimar Charms edition
Shalimar Fourreau du Soir
Shalimar extrait de parfum in Bacarrat quadrilobe flacon 2011 edition

Dolce Eau de Parfum by Dolce & Gabbana: fragrance review

One could be excused for getting all dreamy eyed and nostalgic à la Nuovo Cinema Paradiso upon watching the latest commercial by Dolce & Gabbana for their feminine fragrance launch, Dolce eau de parfum. They could be excused for erupting in twirly pirouettes filled with longing at the sight of the super pretty bottle, its flower cap, its grosgrain bow, its retro typeface. But what one can't possibly excuse is getting worked up over the fragrance of Dolce by Dolce & Gabbana itself, because, frankly, it's so programmatically "not"-so-many-things that it gets very hard to describe it.

It's not really floral, despite the ad copy and the images of orange groves in full bloom. Not indolic-smelling, which comes hand in hand with white flower fragrances. Not woody either. Nor citrusy. Not particularly feminine if your notion of femininity is not terribly challenged by a particular philosophic system of which I am not accountable for. Not anything special in the fresh fragrance slot. Not distinctive, not unique by any stretch of the imagination. Not offensive either, but that's damning it with faint praise.

"Neroli leaves" (come again?), papaya flower, white amaryllis, narcissus, white water lily, sandalwood. Where are all these things?

A clean, lightly aqueous neroli scent with a faint musky underpinning that won't get you noticed even if your life depended on it, Dolce eau de parfum projects "meh-shampoo" in a me-too-pool of similar scents for women afraid to use fragrance with any conviction. It could just be the perfect culmination of a product that looks like a perfume but doesn't perform like one for our crazy times. Even if destined to the very young or the very inexperienced, there is nothing in Dolce eau de parfum of the flush of daring and defiance that a truant teenager might indulge into, swiftly exchanging her smart pants and sweater for a cut off blouse and heels in secret at the ante-room of her house to go out with the hip crowd of her school. It's also so faint for an eau de parfum to make one seriously doubt their nose. If this gets released in eau de toilette there will be someone doing a cartoonish, evil laugh all the way to the bank, because they might as well be selling plain water for all the dilution.

So why am I even bothering to review it, you ask?

Simple. It's the first original release by the Italian brand that is not a flanker or re-issue in what feels like eons. I'm susceptible. I love Italian style.

Additionally, I can be excused for feeling a pang of what Swedes call 'smultronställe' , literally a wild strawberry patch, but figuratively a sentimentally laden spot returned to for solace, an escape from sadness.  Sicily is Dolce & Gabbana's spot. My own smultronställe has been orange groves in full bloom from my childhood like the ones shown in the romantic commercial for Dolce eau de parfum. I might be excused for seeking them into a bottle of fragrance advertised with exactly those images in neorealist style and nostalgic color saturation…

A really wasted chance, if you ask me. Bring back Sicily. 

Jean Couturier Coriandre: fragrance review & history

Coriandre by Jean Couturier first piqued my interest when I read Susan Irvine's description of it: "fit for a red headed Raymond Chandler heroine". Which means I sorta came late to it, considering Irvine was quoted saying it in her 2000 book. Perfume Shrine has long worshipped at the altar of film noir heroines and their universe and this was like a bowl of cream in front of a hungry kitten: irresistible!

via aromo.ru

Trying it out on my own skin after years of loving chypre fragrances I was struck by its discretion. Subtle and refined, it didn't speak of the femme fatale so much, but of a patchouli and geranium wreath around roses of a dark red hue, an elegant missile of indoors denotation. Contrary to its name, Coriandre doesn't predominantly smell of coriander (which has a herbaceous scent reminiscent of sweet oranges, lightly spicy), although there is discernible spiciness to it that does not recall the culinary. The green pong of angelica makes it dry and somehow young despite appearances to the contrary.

Jacqueline Couturier

Created in 1973 by Couturier's own wife Jacqueline, who was Grasse-trained and an heir to perfumers, Coriandre was the foundation on which the Couturier Parfums brand was established. Couturier wasn't a budding designer, on the contrary. Having began his career at Saint Laurent, he self-proclaims to have been involved in the development of both Y perfume and Rive Gauche fragrance. Whatever the story is, his wife has indeed worked in the fragrant sector, the daughter and grand-daughter of perfumers, one of the few women in this field at the time.

Coriandre comes in a bottle topped by a green malachite-looking cap, beautifully veined, an image reflected in the packaging. The 1990s slogan was stressing its classy demeanor: Habillez-vous "boutique", parfumez-vous "Couturier" (A playful wordplay on the designer's name, roughly translated as "Dress High Street, but perfume yourself haute couture). Another publicity from the 1970s extolled its mysterious freshness: "all the scents of the evening and already the freshness of the night". And then there is the typically French, typically mischievous -on so many levels- advertisement I have put at the top of this fragrance review, a woman sitting on a chair with her shirt ripped off at the shoulder, tagged "Coriandre, the perfume which makes you question the value of civilization". [whoah? pretty racy, eh?]

If I were head of their advertising department today I'd suggest they stress its uniqueness in a sea of Armanis, Flowerbombs and DKNYs. Little known, but contrary to many classic chypre perfumes's aesthetic not "old fashioned smelling" enough to deter a younger clientele, although it certainly doesn't do any favors to those raised on candy floss scents. This is exactly why I'm including it in my Underrated Perfume Day feature on PerfumeShrine, a regular column highlighting little known but worthwhile fragrances which are still in production, so if you're taking notes, take a note now.

Coriandre by Jean Couturier has been a little surgically enhanced compared to the 1973 vintage (this happened in 1993, circulating as Parfum de toilette), but it didn't involve a complete face-lift which is good news to its acolytes. Consider yourself honored and not humbled to be included in the latter. If you like the original Agent Provocateur eau de parfum in the pink ostrich egg bottle, you have good chances of finding a good companion in Couturier's Coriandre.

via vagdistri.com

Available from newsparfums.com and other etailers for reasonable prices. Careful, there is also Eau de Coriandre, a different scent, not just a different concentration, from 1996.

Official fragrance notes for Coriandre:
Top: Coriander, Aldehydes, Angelica, Bergamot, Orange blossom
Middle: Rose, Geranium, Jasmine, Orris, Ylang Ylang, Lily
Base: Patchouli, Sandal, Vetiver, Oakmoss, Civet

Givenchy Ysatis: fragrance review & history & free perfume giveaway

Ysatis remains among the most memorable perfume launches of my childhood, alongside Cacharel's Loulou, mainly due to the commercial that accompanied it, much like Faure's dreamy Pavane did for the latter. In the Greek version, a marvelously sonorous, rhyming phrase was able to be coined for the launch, a fact that would be difficult to accomplish in any other language:  "Αναζητείς το Υζαντίς" it went (a-na-zee-TEES toh ee-sah-TEES), roughly meaning that the love-struck male that would smell it would be forever seeking the source of the fragrant Ysatis. It does lend one to daydreaming, doesn't it. Especially to an impressionable, already obsessed with perfumes, mind such as mine, back in 1984.
The reality, as is often the case with perfumes, is far more prosaic: Jean Courtiere, president of Parfums Givenchy, came up with the name, while searching ~as is the formal naming process~ for something non copyrighted, non insulting in any known language and mellifluous enough to be catchy. Ysatis it was and it stuck.

The story

I also vividly recall that Ysatis was accompanied by images of carnival, chess board games and Venetian masks, a fact that I mistakenly attributed it to the masterminds at the advertising company borrowing heavily from the Venezia by Laura Biagiotti popularity, at its apex during the early 1990s, but it looks like it was done in reverse. (disregard the art school project ones posing as authentic). Accurately enough, my memory is as it should be: not only is the architectural Art-Deco-meets-skyscraper bottle of Ysatis posing as a chess piece itself, the commercial is set to a scene from the Venetian carnival (to the succeeding scoring of Hendel's Sarabande, immortalized in Kubrick's Barry Lynton, and of Folias d'Espagna by Arcangelo Corelli): the intrigued, love-struck man in question is seeking the glamorous, 1940s vague-coiffed and 1980s made-up woman behind the mask, the truth behind the glamorous facade. It all stood as very impressive and to this day I think they involuntarily captured a huge part of perfume's intellectual appeal; what is it that makes us want to peel the layers off a person like the beige-purple petticoats off an onion?

I'm relaying all these very personal associations to drive to the fact that Parfums Givenchy had a nice, long-standing tradition in my house, as my grandfather was a devotee of Givenchy Gentleman (1974), my mother occasionally dabbed from Givenchy III (1970) and my father had an amorous relationship with Xeryus (1986) many moons ago. So falling for Ysatis wasn't far fetched at all and taking in mind the first perfume I bought with my pocket money was YSL Opium, it seemed like a natural enough progression into the abyss into perfume appreciation. In fact the fragrance was so popular in Greece that a local fashion "chain" is still named after it.

Searching for this perfume these past couple of days I come across Ysatis advertised as "the perfume of power". But this is not what it stood for for me. Perceptions have significantly changed and we're not the creatures we were in the 1980s, when everything seemed possible, even gassing out everyone in the room with one's scent fumes, but Ysatis, poised as it is between three categories (floral, oriental and chypre) in its complex formula, has the tremendous force to evoke a time when one felt untouchable.
It sounds rather perverse and morbid choice for a teen, but I kinda think I was morbid all along. We did listen to lots of Joy Division and Cure and Siouxie & the Banshees and read Poe poems and gothic tales, so I suppose it wasn't just me.

The scent of Ysatis 

The main fragrance story of Givenchy Ysatis is unfolded in pummeling, sultry and creamy smelling essences of orange flower, ylang ylang and tuberose, brightened by the citrusy but sweetish oil of mandarin and chased by animal fragrance notes (smells like heaps of civet to me and there's also castoreum) and some spice in the base (the unusual for a feminine fragrance bay rum as well as clove). It's pretty "whoa, what the hell hit me?" at any rate. Like Gaia, The Non Blonde, says: "Ysatis is not for the meek or those still figuring out their style and taste". Word. If you have liked and worn Organza (also by Givenchy) in the 1990s, or Cacharel Loulou, and Ubar by Amouage, you have high chances of claiming Ysatis with the clinging tenderness usually reserved for Nutella jars.

Ysatis was composed by Dominique Ropion, maker of such ebullient, expansive fragrances as Amarige, Pure Poison, Carnal Flower, Portrait of a Lady, Une Fleur de Cassie, Alien, RL Safari, Flowerbomb or Kenzo Jungle, among many many others.




Ysatis has been reformulated and repackaged, though not ruined in the process; it's till Amazonian and lusciously haute bourgeois. Still if you're searching for the older formula, it comes in the black box vs. the newer purple one. The original bottles even read Ysatis de Givenchy. There is also a flanker, Ysatis Iris, also in a purple box, though that one has a purple hued bottle as well and of course the moniker "Iris" just below the name. Still, keep a sharp eye when shopping, as it's a rather different scent (focusing on violet & iris note sandwiched between the citrusy top and floriental bottom).

I have a generous miniature of vintage Ysatis for a lucky winner. Please state in the comments what was your favorite 1980s scent and what scents you'd like to see featured in the Underrated Perfume Day feature on Perfume Shrine. Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight and winner will be announced sometime on Monday.

For more entries and fragrance reviews of Underrated Perfumes please click on the link and scroll.

Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta 10th anniversary Editione Speciale 2013: fragrance review & free perfume bottle givaway

Husks of cardamom, crashed and fragrant, in my pocket. A window opening up to a vista of green pines overlooking the Mediterranean azure blue under the crisp but smiling sun of noon. The scent of clean linen dried in the fresh air in the breeze and the human warmth of a worn wool sweater approaching. Zesty citrus as when you scrap a bitter orange with your nails. Scattered writings on the desk, unfinished phrases, small notes of random thoughts. Pencil shavings in an ashtray, abandonded and lonely. A beautiful stem of jasmine cut and browning by the hour. Safety. Serenity. Solace.

When in 2003 the formidable collaboration of perfumers Jean Claude Ellena and Bertrand Duchaufour came up with the original Colonia Assoluta for Acqua di Parma the feat wasn't announced with fanfare. But now that the classical Cologne has re-emerged from the attic as the eternal sine qua non of Southern European elegance and proper grooming, when totally modern spins on this time-honored genre, such as GS03 (Biehl Parfumkunstwerke), as well as more traditional ones, like Chanel Eau de Cologne, draw our attention, rediscovering this refined gem in a gorgeous presentation for its 10th anniversary is occasion for rejoicing.

Acqua di Parma assures us that more than ten ingredients are of a natural origin in their Colonia Assoluta: Calabrian bergamot, red orange, orange blossom, jasmine, lavender, rosemary, Virginia cedar and sandalwood. Less citrusy than the original Colonia, more emphatically aromatic and mossier, the way Cartier Declaration is mossy under the cardamom cool spiciness, Colonia Assoluta is everything I picture a graceful man (or a woman who loves using shared fragrances) of my culture wearing.

The bottle design for the Colonia Assoluta 10th anniversary isn't just random: This special edition decorated with graphic signs is inspired by the moving spokes of a bicycle. The original pattern was designed by Acqua di Parma to convey the contemporary feel of this particular Eau de Cologne and its users, modern men around town, atop their bicycle. The original motif is reproduced in the bottle and case with the spokes stretching across the surface in silver hues, the distinctive colour of Colonia Assoluta. It is through a special craft that the spokes are engraved on the glass surface in order to create light and dark contrasts serving as an elegant expression of the sophisticated scent itself. Light contrasts keep changing with every motion of the large sized 180ml bottle, offered in the refillable version to last in time. 

Notes for Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta:
Top: bergamot, bitter orange, sweet orange and lemon verbena
Heart: jasmine, vetiver, ylang-ylang, cedar, cardamom, pink pepper and paprika
Base: patchouli, oakmoss, white musk, sandalwood and resins

Please note this isn't the first special edition for Colonia Assoluta: there is also Editione Riviera (2007), Editione Speciale 2011 and Colonia Assoluta in Villa (2009). This 10th anniversary edition is code-named Colonia Assoluta Editione Speciale 2013.

To make this 180ml/6oz bottle you see in the picture yours, please post a comment saying whether you bicycle or not (and why) and if you have any favorite associations with bicycles. Mine will forever be Ladri di Biciclette by Vittorio de Sica.
Draw is open internationally till Sunday 10th October midnight and the winner will be announced on Monday.

Les Parfums de Rosine Vive La Mariee: fragrance review & samples draw

Les Parfums de Rosine isn't removed from the romantic notion of fragrance as a pleasure, a smile, a memento to accompany the most beautiful moments of one's life. So there was nice building up for their wedding fragrance, the newly launched Vive la Mariée (long live the bride), without resorting to histrionics; the launch was discreet and the promises complied to the image we have of Les Parfums de Rosine.
In the immortal words of the Fiona character in Four Weddings and a Funeral to describe the love interest of the main protagonist, bride-to-be, Carrie (turns out, "to be and to divorce" and then "to love and not to be"): "Used to work at Vogue. Lives in America now. Only gets out with very glamorous people. Quite out of your league."
There is just something traditionally chic, even expected, about Les Parfums de Rosine and Vive la Mariée is no exception.

wedding dress by Christian Dior 1948 via hprints.com

Vive la Mariée smells translatable as feminine right away, the equivalent of tender décolletage heaving with the emotion of the moment, conforming to the notion of a woman on the happiest day of her life. It's rather easy to accept this warm, peachy-rosy vibe which recalls the best-selling accord popularized by Lancome's Trésor in the 1990s. Marie-Hélène Rogeon, head of Les Parfums de Rosine, who put rose in the heart of the line as the surest sign of femininity and grace, envisioned a soft, gently powdery, clean yet quite musky, heaving fragrance that would lend itself to the day but also to the days to follow. Whether you're going to like this balanced fruity floral fragrance (graciously done with one lump of sugar, not two) depends on your associations with this hugging (and huggable) "accord" that takes with it a hint of retro cosmetics' violet nuance.

Perfumer Benoit Lapouza (best known for his Fan di Fendi editions and Si Lolita for Lempicka, but artistically vindicated on ICONofly's art project Attache-Moi) folded fruity notes (of which they mention lychee and peach) into the clean brilliance of orange blossom and the detectable floral note of rose, garlanded by accent notes that act the way a beautiful flower arrangement compliments the blush on a woman's cheek. It's young, but not too young, if you know what I mean. The character of the scent is lightly sweet, even if a gourmand scent fantasy of praline, choux pastries and whipped cream is evoked in the press material; and that's a good thing (contrary to -say- Repetto Eau de Toilette with its misleading ad copy)

If past collaborations are any indication, Rogeon had previously entrusted Lapouza with Glam Rose in 2011. The parallels with this new fragrance aren't as far fetched as imagined, the two sharing a generosity of past glamor and emotional directness. The eau de parfum concentration is quite tenacious, providing a rich experience, but without risk of suffocating those who will come in the perimeter of a kiss.

For our readers, two samples of the new pefume will be given away. Draw is open internationally till Thursday midnight. Please leave a comment to enter the draw.

Les Parfums de Rosine Vive la Mariee: new fragrance

The Fragrance of happiness!
A bride likes to choose a delicate fragrance. Vive la Mariée is a very feminine and subtle perfume, in harmony with the feelings she feels in her heart. The floral composition of Vive la Mariée has been devised like a bride's bouquet. Benoit Lapouza is the nose who has made this gentle floral scent, based on an idea by Marie-Hélène Rogeon, the creator of Les Parfums de Rosine.


A gentle floral fragrance.

 A harmony of flowers and green, made from bergamot, neroli, and lychee, comes to mind. This fades gently to allow the white flowers to appear. At the heart of the fragrance are jasmin sambac, peony, magnolia flowers and freesia accompanying the rose and orange blossom. Then, toned down but still there, are the happy scents of celebration. Wedding cake, sugar almonds and little choux pastries can be found in the sweetness of the praline, the fruity sensuality of peach and the whipped-cream of vanilla-tonka beans. The fragrance keeps its magical bridal train for us for the finish. A procession of Patchouli, Cedar, Musk and Sandalwood creates a drifting note, unreal, which will be difficult to resist.

Vive la Mariée’s tender trail will make it unforgettable for brides, grooms and their guests.

Viktoria Minya Hedonist: fragrance review

It's rare that perfumes correspond to their names, but Hedonist by newcomer Hungarian perfumer (taught at Grasse) Viktoria Minya is the exception to that rule. If Leos Carax's passionately controversial film Pola X was shot again, I'm sure one of the props used would be this fragrance: Not only for its glamorous, French-chateau-evoking  visual introduction that drips of old world class and physical luminosity, but also for its raw, emotionally honest, unassimilated sex scene following the hero's descent into bottomless soul searching. This dark obsession needs its own olfactory track.

[that's another scene, actually]

Introducing a niche line has become an insurmountable task of difficulties by now: how to diverge and differentiate one's brand? It's less easy than it was in 2005 or so. Did I mention that creating a sexy fragrance is just as difficult? If not more? Well, it is. If you have followed perfume you know it's up there as desirable goal numero uno with manufacturers (not necessarily the people who love perfume, though!), but often the whole trial fails because, well, it doesn't work out. Imagine my surprise to find things that do work their magic. Not many but when they do.... ooh la la!!

There is already an interview with the photogenic Viktoria (who is a joy to communicate with) on Fragrantica, so what I wanted to add is just how EFFECTIVE her Hedonist is, in the sense mentioned above. In a previously anecdotal exchange between my significant other and myself, Ms. Minya's fragrance played a particularly decisive role. My man upon smelling it had a few ideas: "Let me see...smells a bit like coffee and honey, wait...that smells like the orange tobacco your cousin likes...some vanilla but not too much, eh? Tell me I'm right!" [My man is a perfumisto in the closet.] Myself I was sure this potent but ladylike potion had peachy-apricoty-citrusy nuances with lots of orange blossom rendered in an animalic fashion, lots of the voluptuousness of beeswax and yes, a super sexy feel! [No wonder he was aroused] I will spare you the carnal details to follow; I know Perfume Shrine's readers are possessive of a fertile imagination to rival Henry Melville's.

The handmade wooden box (with snakeskin leather look) opens to reveal a beautifully crafted bottle filled with hundreds of Bohemian crystals that sparkle in the champagne colored liquid, catching the light. I just wish that there were a way to own the perfume in perhaps a less glamorous presentation so as to cut down on the monetary overlay (195$/130€ for 45ml), but you can't blame a niche brand for wanting to stand out, can you?

Notes for Hedonist by Viktoria Minya:
Rum, bergamot, peach, osmanthus absolute, jasmine abolute, orange flower absolute, tobacco, vanilla, cedarwood, vetiver

Shopping info and more on Viktoria Minya's site.

Estee Lauder Honeysuckle Splash: fragrance review & history

Estée Lauder Honeysuckle Splash is another forgotten launch in the Lauder stable, much like Celadon and Pavillon, this time conceived by Aerin Lauder (the grand-daughter of Estée) and launched in 2000 with a mock vintage look. Although totally modern in literal terms, the bottle is a retro pastel pistachio green, as if reborn from the Technicolor 1950s, exactly similar to the one designed for Youth Dew, Aerin's grandmother's classic, designed 46 years previously. The name alone is full of promise: how wonderful would it be to be able to splash on one's self that delectable but elusive essence that fresh honeysuckle vines exude when you walk by on a warm, late spring evening?
The fragrance contrary to that dreamy picture was merely posing as an ancillary product to the main attraction, that season's makeup collection, code-named "Playful".  Oh marketing of feeble faith!

The delightful blend of Honeysuckle Splash is deeply floral with the nectarous quality that honeysuckle is famed for (to the point that children in Europe sometimes suckle on the flowers) and a more lasting impression than other lovely honeysuckle fragrances in the market, such as Annick Goutal's Chevrefeuille and L'Erbolario's Caprifoglio. In Lauder's take, Honeysuckle Splash, the pink and white flower with the honeyed petals is allied to the dependable note of orange blossom for extending the white flower note and further accented with citrusy notes of mandarin, the smooth elegance of neroli and the romanticism of white rose. The slight suntan oil impression lurking in the back hints at the presence of ylang ylang and maybe a smidgeon of sweet vanilla. The irresistible elevation of the fragrance into the truly worthwhile however is accounted to the richness of the orange blossom note and the neroli essence, with what seems like a spattering of linden as well, which opens the bouquet and makes Honeysuckle Splash poised between clean and subtly intimate, with a realistic nuance of lush, waxy, honeyed petals; a very flattering reference to a woman who wants to be flirted by a man like a flower by a probing bumble-bee. Typically for a Lauder it had potent sillage and great lasting power.

Even though many young women are hesitant to give in to floral fragrances in the idea that it makes them look either more mature than they want or somewhat old-fashioned, Honeysuckle Splash has enough contemporary sensibility to not alienate its natural demographic. It's a mystery why Honeysuckle Splash was discontinued shortly after its release; unless it was a limited edition to begin with, though I don't recall this being mentioned at the time. Like one woman put it: "I haven't heard of any plans to bring this product back but if they ever do I will be first in line to stock up". It was around a period where another series of fragrances was issued (this time a definite limited edition thing), called Pleasures in the Garden. But for that another post, another day.

M.Micallef Le Parfum Couture Denis Durand: new fragrance

Le Parfum Couture Denis Durand for M.Micallef has just been released on the occasion of the Cannes Shopping Festival. Creating for 20 years, the fashion designer from Lyon has achieved real fame with a demanding clientele permanently looking for exceptional pieces able to combine future trends, timeless elegance, and a perfect hand-made savoir-faire. Since the showroom opening in Cannes in 2010, the Denis Durand brand evokes wonderful creations, evening and wedding dresses. Each one is a unique piece, made in the most delicate fabrics and embroidered with semi-precious stones and Swarovski crystals, and recalls his personal universe referring to classic movies and legendary stars.



Through Martine Micallef's and Denis Durand's close friendship and artistic cooperation, a glamourous, mystic and sophisticated perfume was born: Le Parfum Couture Denis Durand for M. Micallef. The fragrance composition explodes on citrus head notes spiced with cinnamon. Intense and complex, the heart and the base cleverly balance the rose, orange blossom and honey softness with the strength of animalis and woody notes.

Notes for Les Parfum Couture Denis Durant for M.Micallef:
Head Notes: Ceylon cinnamon, Italian tangerine
Heart Notes: Bulgarian rose, orange blossom, honey and animalis
Base Notes: sandalwood, patchouly, amber and white musk.

Dressed with hand sewn delicate Chantilly black lace, the bottle is adorned with a little satin bow and a golden medal with the initials of the two artists. Available as Eau de Parfum spray 50ml/1.7oz from April 2013 at select stockists, retailing at 145€.