Penhaligon's The inimitable William Penhaligon: fragrance review

 Many of the original scents created by William Penhaligon were modernized and re-introduced as part of the Anthology Collection. The company maintains its commitment to fine, traditional perfume ingredients and techniques. The bottles for Penhaligon's scents are based on William Penhaligon's original design—clear glass and adorned with a ribbon.

pic via

This emblematic heritage is of course something most niche brands, even those proclaiming historical roots, cannot match. It was therefore expected that the company would sooner or later reference the patriarch himself. And so they did, with the newest fragrance, The Inimitable William Penhaligon.

With an above-average lasting power but a rather moderate sillage, the spicy-woody scent of The Inimitable William Penhaligon captures easily one's affections, as it's agreeable by most. For that reason it might seem a bit tame, for those expecting something flamboyant and domineering. Nevertheless, true to form, the scents of the aristocracy itself have never been very loud, as there is no raison d'être for them to be; their calling card is their, well, actual calling card.

The actual scent of The Inimitable William Penhaligon is well-mannered, sociable, milky with its lactonic heart of sandalwood and fig, and the more it stays on, the more pronounced this serene milkiness becomes. If I were to use one word it would be snugly. What I find most interesting is an unexpected green-milky slice in the middle, like that of a fig leaf erupting amidst the vetiver, with the sandalwood's soft qualities soon emerging over the greenness.

The company insists on calling it a vetiver scent, first and foremost, and the deep green liquid inside the bottle might indeed account for expectations of a bracing, pungent scent. But let me assure you this might ease its way into Vetivers for Vetiver-phobics effortlessly, as it lacks the dirty inclinations of vetiver oil and instead opts for a bright, bittersweet opening that quickly segues into the plush of the salon. There is also no discernible incense for the incense-phobics, so approach comfortably, as if you were to be greeted into a cedarwood-clad boutique. Mellow, soft, and silky, really.

Comfortable, sweetish on the drydown, and warm, The Inimitable William Penhaligon could easily be snatched out of the hands of your beloved man and sprayed with gusto onto yourself, dear female reader. Yes, most brands advertise as unisex these days, but it's not always the case; this one is effortlessly borrowed by either sex and projects quite classy at all times.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: 

Penhaligon's fragrances reviews & news

Lactonic scents: what does it even mean?

Perfumery Material Fig: Between Green Woody and Succulent

Top Vetiver Fragrances

Penhaligon's Babylon: fragrance review

 
Babylon is a quite a "new and now" launch  by Penhaligon's, a Harrods' exclusive till January 2021, but I was lucky enough to secure some and am wearing it right now to better grasp its messages. By no means revolutionary, this spicy oriental feels like the polished woods of Duchaufour's compositions that have made an indelible impression to the world of upscale perfumery. Cypriol oil (known also as nagarmotha in southeastern Asia) dominates. You might recognize it from the oddly and unjustly doomed Magnifique by Lancome (2008) or from the critically acclaimed Timbuktu by L'Artisan Parfumeur (2004). In Babylon it's sweetened and caressed in warm, soft milky notes and vanilla, with an undertone of spices, of which saffron gives a subtle iodine touch. It's evocative of autumnal joys and middle-eastern images.

 

Housed in Penhaligon's distinctive ribbon-wrapped glass flacon, and full of saturated tones of warm red, teal and gold, the till now obscure Babylon eau de parfum enters the scene in big strides. It takes inspiration from Eastern spices to create an oriental scent, part of the Trade Routes Collection inspired by popular stop-overs on the Silk Route.

This is probably thought of as part of a grander plan of the company owning the brand; reaching out to people who shop for gifts at luxury stop-overs to and from the Emirates and/or other luxurious destinations. There the airport boutiques are decked to the nines in gold and gilt. The collection has therefore "Arabian perfumery style" written all over it. Halfeti was one I reviewed in the past and I like it, but I think Babylon is even more to my style.

 

I would have liked it to be more conceptual, as the potential is there for sure, but the execution is nevertheless flawless.Babylon eau de parfum is delicious and persistent and is felt like a confident aura rising from the skin. It possesses that alluring quality that Ambre Narguile (Hermessences) and Spicebomb Extreme (Viktor & Rolf) also exude, particularly that smoky warmth, beckoning you closer to better fill your receptive olfactory organ with the evaporating goodness.

The beautiful whiskey-like color of the liquid is darker than shown in pictures and beautifully matches the scent; it's as if you're led to take a sip of a rich liquor and get intoxicated, while reading an oriental cylindric seal depicting the lord god Marduc.

Penhaligon's The Favourite: fragrance review

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

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

photo by Elena Vosnaki

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

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

Read more on the Perfume Shrine:

Ionones and the Notes of Violets

Best Violet Fragrances Guide

Top Rose Fragrances & Rose-Scented Products

Mimosa and Cassie: Perfumery Material

Penhaligon's fragrance news & reviews

Penhaligon's Newest Eye and Nose Candy

photo by Elena Vosnaki

 It was inescapable. The new goodies from Penhaligon's have trickled their way to my lap and I'm slowly savouring their delights which I was seeking to try out. 

Babylon (an oriental--spicy-woody, exclusive to Harrods till January 2021), Mr.Penhaligon's (a man's fougere to be launched soon) and The Favourite (a delicate lightly powdery floral, on which I am posting a review next) are included in this delectable box of high aesthetics. 

photo by Elena Vosnaki

The above box of wonders is part of the British firm's celebration of the 150th anniversary of the brand's continuous existence. Yes, it did withhold all those years, in fact I know of a person (older than me, obviously) who was working on their London shop in the 1970s filling the cute bottles. 

"One mustn’t stand in the way of a well-needed celebration, and Penhaligon’s have just the thing! 2020 sees the sesquicentennial of our creation, and you don’t reach your 150th birthday without picking up a story or two. Just ask our founder, William Penhaligon. There was the time he trimmed the Shah of Persia’s beard. Not to mention all those Society scandals that set tongues wagging in the Turkish baths of Mayfair...150 years of dreams, magical places, distinctive characters, and the world’s most extraordinarily unique scents. Each of our fragrances tells a story, too."

It's a great story, I'll give you that, and what's more, in perfumery, it's quite true too, which is not a given with many other brands who invent their past. Cheers for another 150 years ahead, then. 

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

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

Jenner Studio photo via archdaily

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

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

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

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

Penhaligon's Tralala: Win an Exclusive Preview Decant of the Latest Fragrance Launch

Tralala by Penhaligon's, which we announced on these pages (where we posted the fragrance notes) a few days ago, was presented in London  the other day and yours truly managed to get her little paws on some preview juice. [Yeah!] So yes, you know what that means, one lucky winner gets free perfume that hasn't even hit the stores yet (and will actually hit them in May, so wow!)! To enter the draw, leave a comment on this post; draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight and winner will be announced on Monday.

gap by ssilence on deviantart.com (via Pinterest)

So…Tralala by Penhaligon's and eccentric fashion duo Meadham Kirchhoff, aka the latest fragrant opus by the British niche brand. It presented two major stumbling blocks for me, when I first heart about it. Luckily I was able to sample it in real time and see whether my qualms were founded in reality or they were a figment of my imagination. I wrote a full review on the scent for Fragrantica which you can find on this link. [You're welcome to comment either  here or there on it.]

Tralala will launch exclusively at Harvey Nichols on April 21 and at Penhaligon's boutiques and at www.penhaligons.com on May 5, priced at £150.

Penhaligon's Tralala: new fragrance

This April Penhaligon’s will release Tralala, a new fragrance inspired by the fantastical universe of Edward Meadham and Benjamin Kirchhoff.

“We do not have a signature but rather a handwriting. We like to tell stories in different ways.” Meadham Kirchhoff

Meadham Kirchhoff’s shows have been scented by Penhaligon’s for the past nine seasons. The designers themselves have chosen a diverse selection of scents to represent their collections, including Hammam Bouquet, Bluebell, Castile, English Fern and Cornubia. The inevitable outcome of this ongoing collaboration, Tralala is an opulent, hedonistic blend created by Master Perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour.

A small note in passing? I guess this means that the long defunct L'Artisan Parfumeur fragrance Framboise Tralala will not get re-released anytime soon (at least under that name).

Notes for Penhaligon's Tralala:

aldehydes, saffron, whiskey and violet,
leather, tuberose, incense and carnation,
patchouli, vetiver, musk and vanilla.


info via press release, notes via E.Knezhevich

The Scent of the Ballet: Iris Prima by Penhaligon's (video)

The upcoming Penhaligon's fragrance, to be launched next month, is called Iris Prima and is touted to be "a work of olfactory choreography", with Iris Absolute in the role of the prima ballerina. In a unique partnership with English National Ballet, Penhaligon’s has set about capturing the very essence of the ballet, turning to master perfumer Alberto Morillas as choreographer. Iris Prima will launch on the 9th of September 2013. Enjoy the first of two films dedicated to the launch.

Penhaligon's Vaara: fragrance review & free perfume atomiser giveaway

Had I been blindfolded while testing the latest Penhaligon's fragrance, Vaara, I would have immediately proclaimed "Bertrand Duchaufour" upon released and that wouldn't be in some erotic rapture 50 Shades of Grey perfume style, but in familiar recognition of the perfumer's patte all over the perfume. Is this a bad thing? Read on please, dear reader.

Duchaufour, like Jean Claude Ellena, moves his accords and ideas around, exploring them, revisiting, pushing them to their natural and unnatural limits all the time; on one level, the hallmark of a true artist. Whereas Ellena has the luxury of doing it within the context of one company, since his in-house tenure at Hermès, Duchaufour seems at the flummox of some orgasmic productivity; to map out the sheer volume of the man's creations in the last 5 years alone would take a considerable effort worthy of an ultra-conscientious librarian. And whereas some of them are questionable in their repercussions, the end result is usually what we perfume aficionados refer to -favorably- as a "transparent oriental perfume", namely a composition that can't be faulted for being too thick or dense to be wearable under the most casual of moods, nor the most refined of occasions.

Vaara by Penhaligon's is one such thing, a very deftly aerated meringue of a scent, uniting a lightly gourmand scent impression with rose, like a loukoum nugget. A moutwatering effect which has prompted originaldeftdom on Fragrantica to liken Duchaufour to Heston Blumenthal. Of course Duchaufour is no stranger to this alliance of true minds: rose and saffron is a classic Middle-Eastern and Indian combination (rose is making a comeback as a perfume note of late anyway) and the well-known perfumer has explored the lightly suede/leather-smelling facets of the precious stamens when used with rose in both Traversée du Bosphore for L'Artisan Parfumeur as well as in Mohur by Neela Vermeire Creations previously. (It is important to note that this is an interpretation far removed from the mossy-chypre and more aggressive Agent Provocateur eau de parfum which also explores the accord of saffron & rose).
Indeed many of the official notes are, if not the same, then quite close in all three compositions by the sleight-handed Bertrand (for instance the carrot seed note, referenced in Mohur too reflects the iris, ambrette is a kind of musk, the edible, lightly fruity çay note from Traversée gets a quince jelly treatment here, quince being close to apple and so on...). At least the geographical direction points the compass consistently to the East; near or far, it doesn't matter much to the Parisian and the Londoner who flock to buy Duchaufour's creations. Of course the press release goes on and on about the travels that Duchaufour has gone to, to get inspired by India in all its glory. (At this rate, he must know the area like the palm of his hand by now!)

the quirky Bertrand and the suave Maharaja (don't you just love the turquoise jacket)

The name Vaara means both "blessing" and "breeze" and stands for the granddaughter of His Highness Maharaja Gaj Singh II; the perfume was commissioned to celebrate her birth and the family’s love for the city of Jodhpur and was inspired by the Royal House of Marwar-Jodhpur in Rajasthan, India. For the launch, earlier in July, the Penhaligon's boutique in London was filled with images of Jodpur to mirror the chronology of the journey, the fragrance profiling room turned into a Rajasthani spice market with drawings from perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour’s notebook, photos taken at the market and the raw ingredients of Vaara.

The quince and coriander are the dominant allies to the rose-saffron accord in Penhaligion's Vaara scent and enhance it without drowning it. The lightly sweetish message after the top note has dissipated, warm and skin-scent-like is quite delicious with no screech from the flower notes (peony and freesia, two synthetically recreated "notes" are often a culprit).

Vaara despite the repetition of themes and the cliché exotic promo isn't just bon pour l'Orient. It's bon, period.

Notes for Vaara by Penhaligon's:
Top: quince, rose water, carrot seeds, coriander seed and saffron.
Heart: Moroccan rose absolute, Bulgarian rose oil, freesia, Indian magnolia, iris and peony
Base: honey, white musk, cedarwood, sandalwood, benzoin resin and tonka bean.

Available at Penhaligon's boutiques and online at 85 GBP for 50ml/1.7oz of Eau de Parfum, 120 GBP for 100ml/3.4oz.

  For our readers, I have a generous and sleek travel atomiser of Penhaligon's Vaara for one lucky winner. Draw is open internationally till Friday 27th midnight. Winner to be announced in the weekend. Enter a comment to be eligible.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Leather scents, Best Rose fragrances & scented delights, Bertrand Duchaufour perfumes.

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent the sample for reviewing purposes by the company.

A Lady's Guide to Wearing Peoneve by Penhaligon's (or Any Perfume Really!)

A fun, quintessentially British little film, brought to you via the kind people at Penhaligon's a propos their newest fragrance launch for women, Peoneve.

 

Penhaligon's, Meadham Kirchhoff & The Chocolate Tree Collaborate on Multi-Sensory Experience

Meadham Kirchhoff’s multi-sensory shows have rapidly become the talk of London Fashion Week and Penhaligon’s is delighted to be scenting their A/W 2012 collection A COSMOLOGY OF WOMEN: CHAPTER 5 "He gave me Blue Roses, LIFE ! (vicariously)" in more ways than one. Meadham Kirchhoff, will probably surprise the visitors of their autumn/winter 2012 show most pleasantly, offering a special multi-sensory experience. Why? Because Penhaligon's fragrance Eau San Pareil was chosen to scent the show space as well as the models. But that's not all: Special chocolates were made for this very event only with the help of the chocolate specialists The Chocolate Tree.
Edinburgh-based chocolatier in East Lothian, The Chocolate Tree has marked its territory as purveyors of fine handmade organic chocolates and confectionary for any occasion.

"Penhaligon’s has worked with Meadham Kirchhoff and Edinburgh based chocolatier The Chocolate Tree, to create an exclusive Eau San Pareil confection, designed to be enjoyed during the show. The chocolate has been carefully created to reflect the notes in this season’s chosen scent Eau San Pareil. Opening with a giddy rush of sparkling fruits and sensual white flowers, Eau Sans Pareil is a shimmering chypre softened with sweet woods, elegant oakmoss and musks."

To be more specific Penhaligon's Eau San Pareil encompasses top notes of aldehydes, neroli, mandarin, bergamot, kumquat, raspberry, pineapple, cypress, pink pepper and tagetes. The heart rests on jasmine, rosa Damascena, muguet, orris, ylang-ylang, orange blossom, liquorice and clove. The base is warm with notes of patchouli, vetiver, cedarwood, oakmoss, musk, vanilla, cistus, labdanum, benzoin and amber.

images & info via Penhaligon's

Penhaligon's Juniper Sling: fragrance review & draw

Just utter Juniper Sling and find yourself playfully laughing at its jovial, throwback style recalling 1920s London's Bright Young Things consuming gin and recklessly dancing the night away. Indeed "the fragrance that put the ROAR in the 20s" is the new Penhaligon's tag line in their ingenious "mock-umentary" which succeeds their Monty Python-esque previous cartoon film for Sartorial (At this pace, I think we also have an advertising phenomenon on our hands!). Sucker for spicy woodies that I am, I find myself enjoying the trail left by it.

Perfumer Olivier Cresp follows in the steps of Jean-Claude Ellena, who in aromatic Angeliques sous la Pluie (by F.Malle) first gave us a gin & tonic potion that is bracing, cool, delightfully dry and decidedly unsweet; like a soldier's memory of a frosty icecle perched on a thatched roof when away fighting malaria in the tropics. Indeed, tonic water was widely embraced by British soldiers away in the belief that quinine treats malaria. And gin had to be mixed in order to take off the especially bitter tang of quinine, so gin & tonic became a long-held tradition. Penhaligon's drew from that precedent and the advent of "bathtub gin" made during the 1920s and they created Juniper Sling, following the recipe of London Dry Gin. The term ’London Dry’ refers to the way in which the spirit is made, as botanicals must be added during the distillation process instead of after.
There is also another Ellena segment fused in the new fragrance, that peppery-woody facet of Poivre Samarkande, exploiting the properties of Iso E Super so pointedly. Juniper Sling unites the two elements (herbal clarity and low-hum woodiness) into a coherent structure and adds a third pillar; a slight vetiver sweetness plus synth woods. Sweet accents in such a composition might throw the whole off (after all, Ellena's compositions withstand so well and possess such clarity exactly because they're unsweet), but the accomplished Cresp holds his own and balances the act in a likeable, not-too-daring style.

Juniper Sling is characteristically laced with angelica and juniper, the herbal qualities allying with spicy notes of a somewhat warmer character (a pepper & pomander accord). The effect is crisp, groomed-clean. Lots of terpenic linalool in the scent exhibits a light floralcy that is spiced up.
This is contrasted with sensuality coming from the skin-like effect of a suede accord and from the cardamom; indeed cardamom has amongst spices a most sensuous, skin-like, warm aroma. Essentially traversing a low, soft develpment arc, Juniper Sling retains a low-hum vibrancy on skin, very woody and quite musky (clean musk), that verges on sweeter, more gourmand nuances as time passes; there is a pleasant licorice note surfacing, coming from vetiver. This is not the cold stones & musty roots note in hardcore niche vetivers (see Turtle Vetiver or Vetiver Extraordinaire), but rather the warmish, intimate drydown of Guerlain's Vetiver.

My fragrance testing came from a splash on vial, so the hum was low indeed, therefore I would suggest that in order to capture its full effect and much of the spicy top notes as well, you should opt to test with a spray.
Although technically perfectly unisex, the fragrance might appear more spicy-woody masculine than usual for women who embrace warmer notes (or ultra femme fragrances like Penhaligon's Amaranthine). I for one find it a quietly enjoyable tipple that won't get me drunk, but I would have liked it to be more daring and polished.

Not unintentionally, the launch party given featured a menu consisting of food inspired by the notes of the perfume itself: Kicking off with juniper smoked sea trout (spritzed at the table with an edible Juniper essence!), then onto peppered lamb rump with roasted courgettes (roasted on a BBQ on the roof of the car park!) and finished with black cherry and brown sugar ice cream. (A menu created by Chefs Jon Rotheram, Robin Holmgren, Dave and Shaun).

Two deluxe samples for our readers, answering these questions: 1) What is it that makes you cross/not cross the sex divide in fragrances? 2)Do you have a favourite opposite sex marketed fragrance to wear for yourself? Draw remains open till Tuesday 4th midnight.

Notes for Penhaligon's Juniper Sling:
Top: angelica, cinnamon, orange and juniper berries;
Heart: cardamom, orris root, leather and pepper;
Base: vetiver, cherry and sugar.



Juniper Sling is an Eau de Toilette and is now available to buy online and in all Penhaligon's stores.

photo of Bill Murray and Theresa Russell in the 1984 remake of The Razor's Edge film via photobucket 
In the interests of disclosure, I sampled the new scent via a promo

Penhaligon's Olfactory Owl

Now here's something to get all aflutter for. Harry potter fans as well as fumeheads now have something in common, something as unthinkable as an...owl. Penhaligon’s, the fine English fragrance house founded in 1870, is delighted to announce that an Olfactory Owl will be touring London during December.

The Owl, created in homage to their illustrated Christmas Gift Boxes, will be popping up in various locations around London to spread some festive fragrant joy and offer exclusive discount vouchers and perfume samples. Dressed in Victorian finery, the Olfactory Owl will be journeying across London on foot and by tube and bus, taking in some of London’s iconic landmarks and shopping hotspots.
The Owl will be promoted via the Penhaligon’s Facebook and Twitter accounts and customers will be invited to submit pictures of the Olfactory Owl to win Christmas prizes. Customers can keep up to date with the Owl’s progress by checking his schedule on Facebook and Twitter and by following the Owl’s tweets during his journeys.

The schedule for Penhaligon's Olfactory Owl:
Thursday 16th December – Oxford Street, Bond Street, Savile Row, Burlington Arcade, Fortnum & Mason
Saturday 18th December – Regent Street and Trafalgar Square
Sunday 19th December – Knightsbridge, Sloane Square, Green Park, Piccadilly
Tues 21st December – Covent Garden, Somerset House, British Museum

Get more information/updates:
Penhaligons on Twitter: @Penhaligonsltd #OlfactoryOwl
Penhaligons on Facebook

info/pics via press release

Penhaligon's Sartorial: fragrance review & draw

Penhaligon’s latest fragrance, Sartorial, is tailored; literally. It reminds me a bit of the Humphrey character in 1980s BBC Yes Minister! satirical series: of a certain age and social placement, immaculate, a bit stuffy suits thanks to the job requirements, yet there is a glint in the eye, no doubt about it. You can't deny there is rhyme to its reason and intrigue to its plot, but is the scent as inspired as it's suggested in the press material?

Still for all its smell-good factor within the tired (by now) aromatic fougère* genre Sartorial by Penhaligon's presents something of a dichotomy: On one hand, it reminds me of my elegant grandpa (he uncharacteristically wore chest-thumbing Givenchy Gentleman and carried an inexpensive white bottle of Tabac with him on beach vacations, of all things), so young blokes might get scared off ~or repelled, it depends on their lineage memories.
On the other hand, it's got something of the ape-to-gentleman British touch which Penhaligon's obviously meant to catch for overseas audiences, so chalk it up to a success at the drawing table, pun intended. What's left to wonder is whether high-end shoppers will immediately realise that it is so reminiscent of older classics of the 70s that have trickled down to the point of "old man scent" (Please refer to our The Perfume Wars Old Lady vs.Older Woman Perfume article to fully realise the implications of such a moniker)

Created by perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour at the nudge of Emily Maben, Penhaligon's marketing director, it was inspired by the scents of the workroom at Norton & Sons, bespoke tailors at No. 16 Savile Row who dressed everyone from insulars Winston Churchill and Cary Grant to "imported Beau Brummels" Fred Astaire and King Juan Carlos of Spain. Now, the tailor's doesn't really smell of much, you might argue, perhaps a bit of that indeterminate wooliness and dry chalk that is par for the course where flannels and fine cashmeres are cut to produce those bespoke suits we admire. And you would be right! So, we're dealing with a transposition of Englishness into a brand which is characteristically British to a fault to begin with; it's a bit like putting a huge beret on the Eiffel Tower or an extra pinch of sugar to a square of Turkish baklava!

According to Penhaligon's:

"Sartorial is a contemporary interpretation of a classic Fougère; the traditional notes of oakmoss, tonka bean and lavender have been exquisitely stitched together with woods, ozonic and metallic effects, leather, violet leaf, honey and spices to create the perfect illusion of a tailor’s workroom. The modern thread running through Sartorial is beeswax; echoing the blocks of wax each thread is run across before stitching. This sweet smudged note ties together the more traditional elements; the oiled flash of shears cutting cloth, the rub of fabric beneath fingers, tobacco tinted cabinetry, puffs of chalk in the air and old paper patterns vanilla with age".

Nice story, but what is original in Sartorial is first and foremost structure: One of contrasting duality between tradition and deconstruction (is it old or is it new again?), and one which reinterprets programmatic elements into an abstract impression, much like the fougère itself. Lavender, oakmoss, patchouli and often geranium with coumarin as the sweeter note act as the skeleton of the fougère, the most archetypally "virile" genre, but also one which doesn't evoke a natural smell but rather the Victorian salons where men were allowed to scent their handkerchiefs with "clean" colognes and waft them in the air. That's so Penhaligon's I could tear up a bit. The dichotomy is so clear as if Terence Stamp is weilding his sabre in Far from the Madding Crowd and then shoots a baddie in The Limey.

The arresting top note in Penhaligon's Sartorial is nicely misleading, seemingly giving the impression of a masculine cologne citric blast (thanks to traditional distillate neroli, often featured in men's colognes as a mid-hesperide, mid-floral top note). But it's actually a careful, intelligent nugget which belies any classification: It combines the sharp notes of ozone with the soapy-clean-after-shave effect of aldehydes, sprinkled with the metallic-watery note of violet leaf (very cliché, as it's featured in so many unisex and masculine contemporary scents, so obviously Bertrand is toying with us). Despite the mention of spices, the effect is not pronounced (a bit of pepper is all I sense). Sartorial is not a spicy fragrance and none of the spices make themselves known per se; the wonderful leather, lavender and patchouli-coumarinic facets rise soon after the top notes dissipate and persist for long: The caramelised end of the spectrum of lavender is supremely coupled to the naturally occuring dark cocoa note of natural patchouli absolute. It just smells good!
The earthiness of patchouli is a given for Duchaufour who has proclaimed the earth's smell as an eternal inspiration (and who uses the Racine base** to infiltrate his compositions with it very often, a note between aged vetiver and polished woods): The effect is not exactly "dirty" though (as in dirt), as it is closer to yummy, honeyed and lightly incense-like (more myrrh than frankincense) and somewhat musky: think of Luten's mysterious and intense Borneo 1834 with its roasted notes and Ayala Moriel's Film Noir than Chanel's fluffier chocolate meringue Coromandel.

Penhaligon's Sartorial weaves its strange spell by its poise and cocksure attitude at the tailor's fitting: Not only does it not proclaim whether it's a "leftie" or "rightie" (is this too much information for a Brit?), it's snuggly enough to be filched by a woman as an androgyne backdrop for when she ventures out to turn the tables; only if she's supremely feminine however!

One carded sample is available for a lucky reader. State what you think if you tried it in the comments; or, if you haven't, whether you like its concept or not and why.

Notes for Penhaligon's Sartorial:
HEAD NOTES: Aldehydes, Ozonic Effect, Metallic Effect, Violet Leaf, Neroli, Cardamom, Black Pepper, Fresh Ginger
HEART NOTES: Beeswax, Cyclamen, Linden Blossom, Lavender, Leather
BASE NOTES: Gurgum Wood, Patchouli, Myrrh, Cedarwood, Tonka Bean, Oakmoss, White Musk, Honey Effect, Old Wood Effect, Vanilla, Amber

Artist Quentin Jones was commissioned by Penhaligon’s to create a stop-motion animation exploring the story behind the new gentlemen’s fragrance Sartorial. Filmed at the Norton & Sons shop on Savile Row, the animation features the fragrance’s creator Bertrand Duchaufour. Patrick Grant, the owner of Norton & Sons, also makes a cameo appearance. The opening scenes depict perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour at Norton & Sons, absorbing the scents and smells of the workrooms. Bertrand is seen smelling the fragrant scents exuded from the rolls of fabric, machinery and paper patterns before he is able to embark on the creative journey to craft a contemporary fragrance or cologne inspired by the scents and smells of the famous Savile Row workrooms.



*Aromatic fougère is a subcategory of the "fougère" family of scents: Essentially, an accord of lavender-oakmoss-coumarin (from tonka beans) creates the classic fougère (examples of which are the historical Fougere Royale by Houbigant which started the "family" and the 70-80s classics Azzaro Pour Homme, Paco Rabanne pour Homme, Drakkar Noir) and touches of aromatic plants (usually herbs) are added.
**Corps Racine by Symrise or 2-(3-phenylpropyl) Pyridine according to H&R

In the interests of full disclosure, the company sent me samples in the mail to try it out.

Penhaligon's Sartorial: new fragrance

Due to launch in October 2010, Sartorial [the new Penhaligon's fragrance for men] continues the theme of heady innovation. Formulated by Penhaligon’s master perfumer Bertrand Duchafour to reflect the aromas of the workroom at Savile Row tailors’ Norton & Sons, it features notes of oakmoss, tonka bean, lavender and beeswax, which picks up on the blocks of beeswax used in the workroom to coat each thread before stitching. [source]

Sartorial is a contemporary interpretation of a classic Fougère; the traditional notes of oakmoss, tonka bean and lavender have been stitched together with woods, ozonic and metallic effects, leather, violet leaf, honey and spices to create the perfect illusion of a tailor’s workroom. The modern thread running through Sartorial is beeswax. According to Whomyouknow: "This sweet smudged note ties together the more traditional elements; the oiled flash of shears cutting cloth, the rub of fabric beneath fingers, tobacco tinted cabinetry, puffs of chalk in the air and old paper patterns vanilla with age. Bringing together the great traditions of British perfumery and British bespoke tailoring, Sartorial is a fragrance for a new generation of gentlemen".
Basenotes member HDS1963 previewed it thus: "a very elegant and distinguished spice-topped fragrance which contains the heady lightness of previous offerings such as Castile and Douro, but with a rich-come-dirty spiciness to it lent by what smelled like a light cumin-sweetened by cardamom to it."

Will Sartorial join the fleet of scented cabs running the streets of London with drivers in attendance for questions from inquisitive passengers? (Currently there are 5 cabs, scented with Artemisia, Blenheim Bouquet, Endymion, Malabah and Orange Blossom).If you sport one, photograph it and post & tag it on Facebook you enter a prize draw for 100ml of the scent of your choice.

Notes for Penhaligon's Sartorial:
Top: Aldehydes, Ozonic Effect, Metallic Effect, Violet Leaf, Neroli, Cardamom, Black Pepper, Fresh Ginger
Heart: Beeswax, Cyclamen, Linden Blossom, Lavender, Leather
Base: Gurgum Wood, Patchouli, Myrrh, Cedarwood, Tonka Bean, Oakmoss, White Musk, Honey Effect, Old Wood Effect, Vanilla, Amber

Penhaligon's Sartorial will launch in the US on 11th October 2010 and will be available in Penhaligon’s boutiques, retailers carrying the line and online at www.penhaligons.com, in 50ml (80$) and 100ml (110$) of Eau de Toilette concentration.

photo via indieperfumes

Penhaligon's Amaranthine: fragrance review

I had included Amaranthine by Penhaligon's in my Top 10 Scents that Sing Spring for 2010 a while ago with the following words: "Its name denotes the eternally beautiful and unfading. The perfume, just like the name (from the Greek αμάραντος), evokes a deep purple red, a "corrupted" floral oriental with plenty of "dirty" aspects combining spiced (clovey) ylang-ylang and jasmine on a milky sandalwood and musky base. Fetish-phobics should better shy away, but those worth their salt in immersing themselves head-long into intimate scents (ooops!) will rejoice that the meadows and the flowers do not only smell of the sterile florist's or Alpine tops. As shocking ~coming from such an upper-stiff-lip British brand~ as discovering that our favourite nanny, Julie Andrews, has a va jay jay ~and a wee hole~ after all!"

So why am I back reviewing this? Probably because I have been pondering these past few weeks on how it came as an utter shock into the Miss Charm school of the Penhaligon's line-up, smiling like characters out of a Jane Austen novel with no success in hiding this Edna Pontellier amongst them! Like other outspoken feminine florals, like Passion or Grand Amour by Annick Goutal, DelRae's Amoureuse and Vero Profumo Rubj, this is a case of not being afraid to shout off the rooftops its deliciously carnal intent. An intent that is rendered like it's the most natural thing in the world!
Penhaligon’s website says “Amaranthine [part of the new Anthology series] is a corrupted floral oriental for those private moments when everything is anticipation” and by that line alone one would surmiss they're up to no good: Which they're not, in the best possible sense. Yet it was March at Perfume Posse who put the apocalyptical size of the shock value in proper terms: "Immediately and humorously nicknamed Amaranthigh by perfumistas, Amaranthine was a shot across the bow in terms of our expectations from staid Penhaligon’s. Bertrand Duchaufour’s bizarre, refulgent twist on a boudoir scent would have been about the last thing I expected from the house, and I wasn’t alone there".

Like a modern time Léonce, a callous patriach who is unshakable in his views, I was eternally stuck on how Penhaligon's as a fragrance house amounted to instant Victoriana with doilles put under the TV-set and little floral mats on the arm-rests of the couches, in a house that smelled of crushed lavender and butter-foiled scones for tea, always a little stale. Pretty as a picture and nostalgic possibly, but would I live there? No if I had any hopes of saving my jaw muscles from overexertion from the smile that would plague my face translating its ecumenical acceptance and patience.
I had only managed to be interested in Malabah, Hammam Bouquet and Castile from the house's classics previously and in Lily & Spice from the newer range; my itinerary (stopping at the outskirts of Coventry and never intending to go all the way up to Leeds) was cut short: The train was abtruptly stopped at junction "Eyes Glazing Over Victorian Posy" with a disastrous detour via "Bluebell" which had nothing to do with blue and plenty to do with Bells of Hell going ting-a-ling-a-ling.

Perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour has managed to shake this ~in hindsight~ passé notion and thrust it out of the window of that very same train. (Actually he also did a complete redecoration of that English cottage above, ushering a little French deco amidst all that plaid and floral. One can have too much of a picturtesque thing, after all). Amaranthine is travelling from station to station between fruity-ladden vines that sprout banana-bubblegum tones of quality jasmine (and lush ylang ylang) and a gently green but spicy blend of cardamom and coriander recalling not yet fully fermented tea aromatized the Middle Eastern way. And when it stops, it takes you to someplace where proper good buttery English toffee is still made (creamy sandalwood, warm musk, milky caramel tones), so not everything British is lost. Two beauties, one English, one French, are having a tryst. Simply spectacular!

Notes for Penhaligon's Amaranthine: green tea, freesia, banana leaf, coriander, cardamom, rose, carnation, clove, orange blossom, ylang ylang, Egyptian jasmine, musk, vanilla, sandalwood, condensed milk, tonka bean.

Availability and Limited editions on this link.

A special thanks to Joe for introducing me to this gem.

Photo of a nude Brigitte Bardot and an equally nude Jane Birkin via The Moly Doily blog. Claudya photo by Bettina Rheims from the Female Troubles Series

Penhaligon's Amaranthine: new fragrance

Bertrand Duchaufour, head perfumer at L'Artisan, has composed a new Penhaligon's fragrance after his collaboration with the British brand in their Anthology series (a 3-year spanning project that will include 12 fragrances in total).

Amaranthine means "unwithering" (from the Greek αμάραντη) and although the name would point to a flower that never wilts, the reality is a 'corrupted floral oriental' according to the press release, but from the notes listed the new feminine Eau de Parfum sounds more like a gourmand with floral notes with the stress on the milky ambience that surrounds it.
Indeed Amaranthine has top notes of green tea, white freesia, cardamom absolute; heart notes of carnation, rose and Egyptian jasmine absolute; and base notes of vanilla, tonka bean absolute, musk and sandalwood.

There will be a special limited edition flacon of Extrait de Parfum in 30ml/1oz costing £350 (depicted), alongside the standard 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz bottles of Eau de Parfum in the Penhaligon's familiar style. Official launch is set for October.

The Quest for the Great Dry Citrus

Perfumeshrine receives lots of mail from readers. Some with kind words of admiration, some with suggestions (which are much appreciated), some with questions on various matters. The latter usually make me ponder and try to come up with thoughtful answers, which I am not always sure make the grade and help along, except when people do follow up and thank me. But it's worth the effort every time, I think.

This is one such email I got recently:

"Dear all,

I am a man fascinated with fragrances.

Ever since my brother, working at our small town perfume shop dressing up windows, brought home little bottles (called testers I found out much later) of fragrances. It was in the early 80s and I still remember that I was impressed with Cacharel's Yatagan {correction of editor: this comes from Caron} and Dior's Eau Savage {sic} .

My love affair with fragrances continued in a distance, until in the late 80s early 90s when I desired to have a bottle of CK's Obsession. We got it from Canada from a relative of my first love. I used it for some time; sometimes intoxicated by its power sometimes disturbed. Next there came the CK One again from Canada (!). That was a big bottle and we happily shared it with my second bigger love. I was happy with CK's freshness and cleanliness.

Then something powdery came in the market and it was a bit nostalgic of childhood smells around loveable old aunts... I bought my first fragrance... a set of Le Male. This must have been in 1994 or 1995. Years passed by with some Sander's Simple, some Kouros, even some Lanvin to discover 6 years ago, due to a new big love, the fragrance collection of Comme des Garcons. I chose my first CDG after asking their Paris flagstore to post me scented papers of Odeur 53 and 71. By that time I was already far away from my hometown. I chose 71 and accompanied it with Dry Clean by CDG. These were my fragrances for three years. Then there came 53. Now I am in my 2nd bottle of 53. Meanwhile this last summer I wore Eau de Lalique which I found to be quite impressive for an eau and look forward for a bottle more. I have been researching for the great dry citrus fragrance for a few months and that is how I came across Eau de Lalique. It took me 10 days to decide on it and I was happy I found it. In the meantime I tried CDG's Play on paper and my skin. It was disappointing. I received also a sample booklet of luxuriously put together perfumes by Serge Lutens; not my cup of tea I must admit as I am rather picky with my teas nowadays. I haven't tried the Guerlen' s {sic} Eau, with citrus. I am afraid that, that too is going to be too sweet.

My kindest regards.

A devoted fragrance lover.

Michail"

A couple of comments, first:
I gather this was sent to more than one person, there are a couple of mistakes that might be attributed to a newcomer to fragrance lingo or not and there is no direct question. Also I am a little perplexed that the writer was not able to find Clavin Klein fragrances where he is, considering they were available in department stores, as far as I recall.
But I reckon the question is the quest for the great dry citrus. Which is valid enough. Therefore dry citrus recs should follow.

Dear Michail,
thank you for choosing Perfume Shrine to ask this question.
I think you have dabbled in a cornucopia of perfumes that are not strictly confined to citrusy smells, so your tastes are really more varied than you might think.
Congrats on the daring appreciation of Yatagan too; a scent that not many would brave. I really did laugh out on the Lutens comment, as those are very much revered and somehow your outlook on them came as a surprising and I might say unaffected, refreshing change. And yes, they are rather sweet perfumes to begin with, per general consensus, so it's all right.

Considering that citrus scents are so popular and varied, sourcing their top notes from various fruits that invariably have a different odour profile and therefore different sweetness level, I would venture to recommend a few that to my nose seem like what you are looking for. Orange and mandarin render sweeter notes than lemon or lime (such as in CKOne) and begamot is a more classic bittersweet note. Neroli has a more floral tonality as it is distilled from flowers, while petitgrain is another ingredient that might remind you of citrusy and lightly green notes. Therefore reading what the notes for each fragrance are might help you in your quest.

The Eau Imperiale de Guerlain you are referring to is not too sweet, if you are hesitant to try it. It is however very fleeting and that might disappoint you if you are accustomed to such tenacious and potent fragrances as those you mention.
A good choice for a dry lemon with the background of cypress wood is the now classic Eau d'Hadrien by Annick Goutal. A smaller brand that you can however find where you are.

A tenacious and easier to procure citrus is O by Lancome, a scent that is marketed to women, but which has been borrowed by men since it launched in the late 1960s. The crushed lemon leaves of the beginning get anchored down by a little sandalwood, which lends a sensual touch to the more acerbic opening.

In that vein I would also recommend Eau Dynamissante from Clarins, a skincake brand that has produced this as their first aromatic foray, claiming aromatheurapeutic benefits from its use as well. It's bracing, cool and quite dry and would satisfy your summer needs admirably.

For a grapefuit fix may I suggest Citrus Paradisi by Czech and Speake. It's a clean and realistic smell with a little smokiness in the background. Also Vie de Chateau by Patricia de Nicolai is another bracing cologne, technically not just citrusy, but more green and woody, that you might enjoy nevertheless. Originally conceived for a prince (prince Sigalas) by de Nicolai who is related to the family Guerlain it is a classy composition that encompasses many acerbic notes allied to herbs and aromatic grasses that lend a distinguished dryness.
Another unisex easily got scent is Un Jardin sur le Nil by Hermes, opening on what they say is green mango, yet I perceive as tart grapefruit. It segues to woody notes and a little whiff of incense. It might be a little less dry than Vie de Chateau though.

Another confident De Nicolai scent is New York which combines bergamot and Sicilain lemon with spice and some amber to produce a scent that is trully mellow and polished.
Douro(formerly Lords) by Penhaligon's is a more powdery, sharp and soapy rendition of citrus notes on a woody, aromatic base and you might find it to your liking.

For the more obscure fragrances, please refer to this excellent and most reliable site (to which I am not affiliated, by the way): Aus Liebe Zum Duft/ First in Fragrance.

I hope you do get to find what you are looking for.

Regards,
Perfume Shrine



Dear readers, if you have any more recommendations, please mention them in the comments section. Thanks!

Next week we review chypre fragrances of the enchanted kind!...
Pics come from Luckyscent and Garden.co.uk

London Calling...part 2

There is no greater endearment than the nostalgia of bygones. Sommerset Maugham would have plenty to say about this, I’m sure, in his usual fabulous style and poignant mood which would account for a frame of mind not unlike the one I had upon visiting the renovated Penhaligon’s store in London’s Wellington Street. There is also a Penhaligon's store in Oxford street, but Oxford street being quite unlike Oxford the town itself (if you have been to either, you do know what I mean), I never ventured inside.

There is an element of kitsch Sarah Key childish reminiscence in tiny pastel bows on ribbons and deep claret red hues that adorned the shop in days of yore when eager and just-out-of-bloomers so to speak (at least financially) I pressed my nose on the window pane to stare at the dark wooden luxurious displays and the bottles of perfumes and lotions stacked up in rows.

The whole setting was like that of a fairy tale set in the Victorian era, the scent of Violetta in the air like a powdery sweet candy that was sucked by Miss Havisham in an alternative universe where she does get her man after all and the spider webs on the tables and corners remain but a mere figment of an author’s imagination. It just exuded the kind of posh ambience of cognac sipped in the evening in front of a blazing fire.
Later this image was replicated (or so I thought at the time) by Browns of Melbourne which I scoured for lovingly back at home, at times when Penhaligon’s was unavailable for purchase so saccharine might as well stand for sugar. Alas the cutesy factor sometimes ruined it for me. The look of weirdly wonderful spicy Malabah was what I was searching for, you see.

The new façade is lovingly worked on, with pastels, pale colours that give a new lift, more airy, brighter certainly; but somehow lacking the deeper ends of the Victorian fairy tale, poignant Dickensian vagabonds with gratitude towards small children missing. Still, the boutique is magical and very worth a visit.

I reacquainted myself with their cherubic Lily of the Valley which rings wreath-like spring chimes in my ears and with daredevil Malmaison, a scent of carnation that is piquant yet restrained enough to make me crave it and finally put it on my to-buy list for next season. I refrained as the shop was rather expensive and the pound is still strong. However the obliging staff was making this very hard to do and I was enslaved by their lovely chat and their pleasing demeanor and had I purchased something I would have certainly opted for the promising hand and arm massage that involved the brand’s lotions and powders (that was also an option at Jo Malone, of which later on).

As it is, my hands and arms are left unPenhaligon-ed and I feel the poorer for it.
As Miss Havisham surely must have known, opportunities come once in a blue moon.

Artwork "A rubber at miss Havisham's": wood engraving by Marcus Stone, courtesy of victorianweb.org. Pic of Penhaligon's products courtesy of their site.

Orange blossom week: part 4 - abstract brushstrokes

What is abstract and how it pertains to olfaction? Let's question ourselves. If we're talking about abstraction as the thought process wherein ideas are distanced from objects then there is a whole school of offerings that evoke some distant memory of something through the use of non-representational means, just like in art; especially in Lyrical Abstraction (a term originally coined by Larry Aldrich in 1969 to describe what he saw in the studios of artists at that time)or even Abstract expressionism, of which Pollock is a representative example, on to the geometrical stylisation of Yiannis Moralis.

In such a context it is not hard to see that the rendition of an aromatic note, even such a familiar one as orange blossom, can be sublimated in a way that exalts its effect without featuring its true characteristics. In fact without featuring the actual thing at all!
Aromachemical engineers have the additional ability to use a note that naturally is only a top or heart or even base accent and manipulate it in order to make it last longer or for a lesser amount of time. Therefore orange blossom, a note that in its form of "absolute" is a heart to bottom note may appear out of the vial as soon as we open to smell or indeed neroli (the essential oil from orange blossom) might be discernible throughout a fragrance's development.
It is also possible to use aromachemicals that evoke the essence of orange blossoms like the ghost of someone near and dear appearing out of a desire to see them much like Hamlet's father, in a composition that is centered around them yet contains none. Ingredients that could be used include Aurantiol, Methyl Anthranilate, and Oranger Crystals.
Primary examples of this technique would be amply illustrated by Fleur du Mâle the new fragrance by Gaultier, Narciso For Her by Narciso Rodriguez and Castile by Penhaligon's. Indeed those are fragrances that fine though they are feature such an abstract orange blossom that it is spectral in its appearence rather than physical and tangible, like in examples previously mentioned.

Fleur du Mâle by Galtier has already had a full review at Perfumeshrine. Suffice to say that it is the essence of a fluffy cloud, all hay-coumarin and ersatz orange blossom through the eyes of a master of abstraction and could be worn by women just as easily as men.

Castile by Penhaligon's on the other hand is in another vein. Technically also a masculine fragrance, yet highly asexual in its soapy nature, it soars on notes of clean neroli and bergamot at first to warm up just a bit later on with hazy orange blossom, all the while retaining a clean atmosphere of minimalism.
I have a confession to make at this point. When staying at european hotels -the luxurious kind; I avoid the cheap ones after one horrible experience not due to my choosing which however left me probably scarred for life- I love to enter the bathroom first. Gaze at the white clean towels, all pressed and folded, the bath acroutments, lined up for my using, little soaps on the sink, inhale the aroma of cleanliness and proceed to the pulverised sheets on the bed that are starchy and unlined like big sheets of paper on the desk of a writer longing to be filled with ink recounting thoughts and memories of ambiguous value.
This is what Castile evokes in me: staying in a luxury hotel, posing as some person more important than the prosaic historian that I am, halo of far away distance from mundanity fimly placed on my head and not a care in the world behind my aviator sunglasses. "Clean" in a minimal, austere, yet also friendly way without featuring one sharp or musky note.

Narciso by Narciso Rodriguez on the other hand goes into the other direction of "clean". It has been such an influential, seething discovery in my relatively recent perfume past that I have real trouble talking about it. This might sound like a hyperbole and an unsuccessful one at that, yet I assure you that the way it has sneaked its way into my heart with its wiles is astounding. The concentration in the admittedly confusing range that I am focusing on at the moment is the Eau de toilette, with its sexy ambience of clean musks at the background and the inclusion of an abstract orange blossom touch on the foreground.
Nary does a day go by when wearing it that the passing stranger (and a loved one) does not turn to sniff a little longer, lean a little closer, sometimes even comment on it in complimentary terms. Nary does a day go by when wearing it that I am not trasported in a place of contentment, of confidence, of feeling fresh and young and able to conquer the world on a wink or a smile.
To categorise it as clean or as sexy is doing it an injustice. Its erotic power hinges on the creation of a distinguished, sophisticated eroticism which is ethereal and distanced from heavy seductions that in reality repel rather than entice. The absence of saccharine girliness despite the assured overall youthfulness of the composition speaks highly of a sexual being who is ready to consumate the affair with a playful toss of the leg up in the air and not after losing its virginity at the school's prom dance. Whether that would be the net result in the end is fair game to its paws, but nevertheless this is not the iniative on which the fragrance operates. It hums of unmade beds in homes rather than hotels, where the warmth of humans and the life of lovers has found a nest out of the cold harsh mechanical world outside.
Narciso Rodriguez eau de toilette is said to include notes of honey flower, solar musk, orange flower, amberlyn, tactile musk, and tactile woods.
Amberlyn by the way is a petrochemical that is intended to smell a bit like ambergris. Honey Flower is an evergreen shrub (genus Melianthus)native to Cape of Good Hope.
Too abstract for words really in its aroma-synthetic marvel, this Francis Kurkdjian oeuvre is a masterpiece that has it own place in the pantheon of great scents. I am sure that the future will be kind to its beautiful visage.



Painting "Young Girl" 1971 by greek painter Giannis Moralis courtesy of eikastikon.gr