Bottega Veneta Eau de Velours from 2017, with a seductive name that evokes caresses with the softest materials, is a lasting, worthwhile specimen in the family of Bottega Veneta fragrances. Maybe even more lasting than the first eponymous release, Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum!
via Pinterest
For this very plummy flanker fragrance, which was a limited edition to begin with, we have a presentation in – you guessed it – velvet ribbon caressing the neck of the bottle, substituting the subtle kink of the strip of leather which encircled the neck of the original Eau de Parfum in a bit of tasteful fetish wear.
Those of you who do not like the actual bitter facets of leather fragrances, but instead long for the plush and the decadent sense of luxury that leather suggests, will find this rosier and softer version, Eau de Velours, by perfumers Michel Almairac and Mylen Alran, more to your liking. The leathery core is here, too, but don't fool yourself that it's a defanged mass scent of musks and fruits sprinkled with sanitized patchouli and ready for its close up like so many others. It's definitely close to the original, but the softness, with an interlay of starched iris, makes it less sharp, less androgynous, more comely, and I'm afraid a little bit more "middle of the road," if such a term like that can be applied for the Bottega Veneta fragrance line at all (which i'm sure it can't, but you get what I'm saying). Eau de Velours is a prime example of those fragrances fit to scent one's autumn scarf – very close to the body, but rising with the body temperature to mingle with one's skin chemistry and becoming one's own. Sensuous but in control, it's commanding attention where you don't need to raise your voice or your eyebrows to make your salient point. Good going, Bottega Veneta!
It's tough to do a good melon note, if only because in hindsight the overuse of Calone in the 1990s has tampered with our own perception of the natural object. Melon of course cannot be distilled, being mostly water in itself, so an approximation is in order. Some perfumers excel where others fail. For me, the definitive addition of melon which swerves the whole composition into something amazing comes in the top chord of Frederic MalleLe Parfum de Therese.
The legendary perfumer Edmond Roudnitska is the mastermind behind this fragrance which shares many facets with his masterful vintage Diorella. Roudnitska always brought space in his fragrant compositions, a very legible melody that sang and sang in Mozartian clarity. In other famous fragrances of his the fruit serves as the opening salve to the inkier and more serious aspects of the formula, such as the plums and hesperides in Rochas Femme and Eau Fraiche for Dior. But in Le Parfum de Therese it is the predominant melon, with its succulent, and at the same time not too sweet tinge which rounds out the violet heart, seguing to the plushness of beloved plum and leathery notes. Although Roudnitska is of Russian extraction, his composition displays a very French flair at looking on femininity; it's a little bit sweet, but also fresh, and it's a little bit dirty, but also quite polished.
In conclusion Le Parfum de Therese is both retro and decidedly modern and stands as the perfect timeless scent for those who want to possess a tiny bit of a legend; after all Roudnitska composed it with great care for his own beloved wife. Aren't we lucky that Frederic Malle salvaged the formula and offered it to us.
Usually the Twin Peaks series, an album comprised of smell-alike snapshots, springs from the demand for similar-smelling perfumes, either less expensive homologue scents, alternatives when a specific fragrance doesn't quite work but you know you like the effect or substitutes when one's favourite is ruined through reformulations. The case of Secret Obsession and Chiffon by Oriflame (a Swedish skincare & cosmetics company that distributes its products throughout the world BUT for the USA) is neither: The former just immediately sprang to mind upon happening to smell the latter. And it needed documenting for posterity's sake, especially now that Calvin Klein's Secret Obsession is getting axed and disappearing from fragrance counters. Who knows, it might be someone's favourite and they might be desperate to find a replica!
Though Chiffon is not an intentional replica (i.e. a dupe), being neither marketed nor created as such, the case with Oriflame perfumes is that often they reprise the formulae of successful brands with minimal twists. Anyone who has ever smelled their perfume portfolio has noticed that Volare for instance is Lancôme Trésor's "décolletage over a peach angora sweater" less flamboyant sister. That's nothing new in the perfumery market of course, when big companies unblushingly flat out copy other big companies, but I digress. The reason in this case is because Oriflame fragrances are developed by the same company that develops brand fragrances for designers (namely Givaudan). Like with many Twin Peaks articles, a good formula is carried on by perfumers from brief to brief (see L de Lolita Lempicka and Musc Ravageur, both by Maurice Roucel, or Azuree, Cabochard and Aramis, all by Bernand Chant).
Oriflame isn't reticent on putting impressive images into their presentation either: they hired mega-model Natalia Vodianova for their Midnight Pearl previously in a clip that was eerily reminiscent of the Dior Midnight Poison commercial in all its sweeping drama. So looking down on them isn't always a wise move is what I'm saying; they have a few things worthy of further exploration.
Secret Obsession is presented as a floriental, created by Givaudan perfumer Calice Becker and art-directed by Ann Gottlieb who is responsible for many Calvin Klein successful launches. To me however it registers as lightly fruity-spicy-woody, much like the Lancome feminine fragrance Magnifique, with which it shares many facets. Poised between Lauder's Sensuous and Magnifique, along with its congenial sisters, it's part of the new vogue in feminine fragrances: namely woody, duskier notes.
The initial impression of spraying Secret Obsession is rum-like boozy with an alcoholic hairspray blast petering out quickly, plummy and ripe but not overtly sweet (a good thing!), especially compared with the overall sweeter Magnifique.
In Secret Obsession there is a distinct phase in which the resinous, intense aroma of mace provides a welcome surprise as the fragrance opens up on the warmth of skin.
The overall effect is tanned skin, cocoa-buttyric musky, cedary-woody, much of it accountable to Cashmeran (a woody musk of synthetic origin) and is less loud than the oriental monochromatic amber of the original Obsession by Calvin Klein or the fruity megaphones of Euphoria, but perceptible. Secret Obsession has a linear development that doesn't change much as you wear it: the initial scent becomes warmer and duskier, but doesn't change significantly over time. I wouldn't necessarily deem it too sexy or provocative (despite the advertising) and would prefer to see it in a body oil concentration where its shady character would shine.
Chiffon has a lovely name, evocative of a sheer, expensive material with a soft tactile feel and reprises the softest elements in Secret Obsession to project as a woody-musky hum with indefinable "clean" notes that translate as soft, powdery, whispery. It's accompanied by sensual advertising that is short of the overt sexual innuendos in the Calvin Klein scent. It's just a classier image overall. Typically for an Oriflame fragrance Chiffon is light in volume and not tremendously lasting (invariably they're eaux de toilette), though decently pleasant and wearable. The bottle is overall more innocent, less weird and more conventionally pretty than the Klein vessel. Incidentally, Chiffon is Oriflame's local best-seller, alongside Elvie, and comprises a body cream and body spray deodorant in the same scent.I guess it hits upon the local desire for abstract smells (nobody desires a straight vanilla or a flat out fruit scent) , manageable price points and a hint of sensuality in the mix.
Tuberose is almost non existent in Chiffon, it's so minimal, but then the same happens with Secret Obsession anyway. The given notes do not mention mace, though the note appears the same as it does in Secret Obsession and is indeed the individual twist which differentiates them from just any woody floriental on the shelves. In fact while comparing the notes for both perfumes what jumps up to the nose is -for once- corroborated from what appears in black on white. Proceed accordingly. Just hurry, if you want to grab a bottle for yourself, because Oriflame is also known for axing fragrances right & left.No one's perfect!
Notes for CK Secret Obsession:
Top: exotic plum, mace, rose Damascena
Heart: French orange blossom, Egyptian jasmine, tuberose, plum, woods
Base: cashmere woods (=Cashmeran, a soft, woody musk), burnt amber, Australian sandalwood
Notes for Oriflame Chiffon:
Top: plum, ylang-ylang , iris
Heart: orange blossom, tuberose, plum, cedar, patchouli
Base: white musk, sandalwood
I wouldn't hesitate to think of the latest Paris exclusive fragrance by Lutens , going by the insolent name Boxeuses, as Féminité du Cuir instead. What do feminine pugilists (the true meaning of Boxeuses, pronounced box-EHz, in French) have to do with the delicate and mysterious affair of perfume? And why did Serge choose that name?
Plenty it appears and Lutens isn't one to go by conventional names anyway. This enigmatic woody leather is molded after a soft kid's leather glove that hits all the sweet spots for any ardent Lutens fan, that's why! After all French perfumery did arise through scented gloves, didn't it? Unlike the green fairy of Bas de Soie with the icy sensuality that demands kinky behaviour to unhinge itself, Boxeuses goes straight for the jugular,playing on the familiar, original codes of the Lutensian universe: violet-tinged woods, plummy fruits, somptuous spices...
To those who are intimately familiar with the Lutensian opus, Boxeusescan't fail but instantly remind them of Féminité du Bois and in fact the whole Bois series it spawned for the launch of Les Salons du Palais Royal back in 1992 (Bois de Violette, Bois et Fruits, Bois et Musc, Bois Oriental). Much like them, Boxeuses is full of the woody backdrop of Iso-E Super and violet methyl-ionones, plus a good dosage of plummy nuance redolent of Arabian desserts which perfumer Chris Sheldrake elevated beyond manière into Art. To those who are not, Boxeuses could be the love-child of a Cuir-de-Russie-type (notably Chanel's offering with its luxurious feel) due to the birch tar material anchoring it and Rochas Femmewith its Prunol base; the latter in all its cuminy sexy glory, thank you very much. Of course the lineage might be de trop to mention: Féminité du Bois does owe some of its genius in the sexiness factor of Femme, but pushing the envelope further thanks to its sombre spiciness of cinnamon and cardamom which couple with woods reminiscent of a box of lead pencils; unheard of at the time.
If Cuir Mauresque (his other "leather" and this year's limited edition export of the Paris exclusives, scheduled for a late 2010 launch) recalls a "Peau d'Espagne" or Cuir Ottoman sensibility, Boxeuses is restrained enough in its opulence to be closer to a Cuir de Russie type or Tabac Blond (the pyrogenic coupling of acidulous notes and styrax with birch) and similarly genderless, despite the name. The leathery and spicy facets of Boxeuses come to the fore immediately, on one hand an anisic tinge recalling licorice and classic French perfumery, on another an incensy feel with cinnamic facets recalling Serge Noire. The sticky plum surfaces next, not sacharine but shaded with violet, rounding out the fragrance alongside smoky woods and milky soft musk with a smidge of dark cocoa, sustaining that impression with medium sillage for a long time.
To those forlorn, after the launch of Nuit de Cellophane, thenL'Eau Serge Lutensand even of Bas de Soie, claiming Serge was "softening" and much like Alexander the Great allowing himself to adopt the customs & sensibilities of a completely foreign aesthetic, Boxeuses is a punch in the nose. Like Australian boxing film sensation Girlfight (2000) proclaimed, Lutens attained the unexpected through the most expected way: "Prove them wrong!"
For our readers, 5 samples of the exclusive Boxeuses will be given out of my own personal bottle. Tell us WHY this scent sings your name in the comments and I will pick 5 winners. (Draw is open till Friday 24th midnight).
Serge Lutens Boxeuses forms part of the Paris exclusive line, available as 75ml of Eau de Parfum in the bell bottles. The packaging has been slightly changed (ever since the launch of Bas de Soie last July actually) and the bells are not sealed so as to protect contents from spillage and tampering. It retails for 120 euros at Les Salons du Palais Royal in Paris. Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Serge Lutens reviews & news, the Leather Series
Accessing the popularity stakes and artistic success of a bestseller is never an easy thing. Perhaps it's the competitors who speak most frankly about its cachet: As Thierry Wasser, head perfumer at Guerlain at the moment, revealed in an interview on Swiss television, "Every one of us wants to make the next J'Adore!"
The aphorism ~on a fragrance with a name that means "I LOVE it!"~ was meant to convey the ubiquitousness of the scent, its staggering approval by consumers from young to old. Such ubiquitousness in fact that its commercial's televised air-time 10 years after its introduction in 1999 has raised questions on a popular perfume forum about the reasons behind it!
The makings of a best-seller
You see, gone are the days of Chanel No.5 when commercials were running for the same scent for decades: Today the fast-paced churning out of fragrances means that the bombarding with advertising images changes dramatically from season to season with the latest and the glossiest catching page after page and air-minute after air-minute in an attempt to lure us into the Great New Thing. Alas, so very few times they deliver. Yet there is no question about Christian Dior's fragrance enduring presence in both the media and ~what's more important~ on the dressers and the bodies of countless women on the planet: Yes, by that token Dior's J'Adore is a modern classic!
Stating such a claim makes eyebrows raise on perfumistas' foreheads, accustomed as they are to the exclusive, the arcane, the unattainable or alternatively the vintage, the classic and the ultra-rare. But the beauty of perfumery is that one doesn't need to go up digging for Alexander the Great's grave (a task several worthy people have been unsuccessful at, its location forever unknown); one can find a good thing even almost on their doorstep (or in this case their local Sephora) and like Alexander's golden locks it is gilded and shiny with its "giraffe women" necklaces around the stem of the bottle and screaming with every drop of its jus "I'm covetable". A gorgeous face in Charlize Theron's shoes strutting her statuesque shape is challenging ~but also promising to~ every woman to become a living goddess! "Woman is an idol, and must be adorned to be adored," wrote Charles Baudelaire and Dior was quick to snatch the immortal line for their own purposes.
Pinkification: more to it than meets the eye J'Adore (pronounced Za-DORH) clout however took an unexpected and fascinating path to form. Back in 1999 the fruity floral vogue was just catching on, as consumers tired of the acquatics and ozonics of the 90s and of the realisation that the dot com prodigies were not something to sustain the economy as foretold were searching for a little girliness, a little pinkiness ~even a reversion to the mental age of Barbie some would say! (and who can blame them in retrospect?) A recent article at The Guardian talks about the pinkification of our culture where beauty "gurus" emote in exalted girly-tones that could shutter crystal and have you screaming up the walls with devious and not so devious plans on assassinating the perpatrators of those auditory crimes. (parodies abound, so not all hope is foresaken). The cultural background of this phenomenon is vaster than the scope of those pages, yet a fragrance such as J'Adore managed to come aboard at the exact time when the wave of girlishness was gaining momentum. And we have to grugingly admit: Among all the girly fruity florals, J'Adore actually manages to inject a little womanly touch there too: It's not completely air-headed! In Dior's portfolio it is something of a chasm, a no man's land where the classics (Miss Dior,Diorissimo, Eau Fraiche, Diorama, Diorling, Diorella, Dior-Diorand Dioressence) along with the established (Dune, Poison and some of the latter's flankers) veered off in favour of the modern specimens which are targeted to a different audience (Addict, Addict Shine, Forever and Ever etc.).
In a way J'Adore was the catalyst which ushered the pounding thumb of fruity florals not only chez Dior but along the widths and the breadths of the feminine fragrance market. Calice Becker, the perfumer behind J'Adore, is famous for her symphonic yet non-obese florals. Essentially linear, J'Adore begins and ends on a complicated yet quite fresh bouquet that oscillates between the velvety sheen of orchids and champaca with their sensuous air and the fruitier elements of rich plum, sprinkled with droplets of sweet citrus fruit, hints of greenery and a soupçon of violet & rose coquetry (ionones). The whole is underscored by cassis (a synthetic base very popular in the 80s, also used in Poême with which it shares an indefiniable vibe) with subtle woods. The longer the perfume stays on the more it projects that latter element. The eau de parfum's tenacity is indeed phenomenal and it manages to radiate even from the blotter for a while.
And when all is said and done, it smells nice. I wouldn't trail the Himalayan Route for it like I would with other fragrances and it's a little too sweet and ubiquitous for my personal tastes, but it's a round, feminine scent that attracts compliments. Think about how women have passed you by at the street, your nostrils quivered at their scent and you almost murmured j'adore....
Notes for Christian Dior J'Adore: Mandarin, champaca flowers, ivy, African orchid, rose, violet, Damascus plum, amaranth wood, blackberry musk
Dior J'Adore Special Editions and Flankers The face of J'adore was initially Esthonian beauty Carmen Kaas, but it was Hollywood star Charlize Theron who really "clicked" and gave J'Adore an immense visual advantage.
J'Adore is available at every Dior counter everywhere, available in the following versions/flankers:
1) the original J'AdoreEau de Parfum concentration (1999) in the golden toned bottle depicted in the ads and reviewed above
2) the lighter and less plummy J'AdoreEau de Toilette (2002) in the silvery-toned design (pictured on the right). In 2011 the eau de toilette concentration was re-orchestrated (due to changes in perfumery regulations) by Francois Demachy, giving it a sweeter and fresher appeal, and repackaged in the gold scheme packaging and presentation, only differentiated from the EDP by the notification on the packaging.
3) the magnificent, limited (and costlier) edition of J'Adore L'Absolu (2007) a delightfully intense version of the classic favorite with Turkish rose, tuberose, and jasmine combine to make a truly pretty floral" (Eau de Parfum Absolute, created by Francois Demachy). A superior version of the formula, developed by Francois Demachy with premium floral essences.
4) the J'Adore L' Eau Cologne Florale 2009 (the bottle is in golden tones, but a little more slender), which reprises the floral theme with touches of lemony magnolia to render a very current modernisation of the brand. The range is complimented with ancilary body products and is often augmented with special editions that reprise the design of the bottle.
5) J'Adore L'Or is a essence de parfum edition launched in 2010 with the neck of the bottle in thin gold threads and the same amphora style body, available only in 40ml. It's an amped up and more expensive version of the eau de parfum with sweeter and headier florals and a more lasting and very perceptible vanilla base.
6) A limited edition from 2007 highlighting the jasmine note is J'Adore Le Jasmin, available in 100ml of alcohol-free eau de toilette for the summer. Longer, leaner amphora bottle, but otherwise same, with a box reading "summer fragrance" underneath the name. Not to be confused with the 2004 summer fragrance, which is encased in the familiar bottle that holds EDT or EDP, with the only difference being marked in the box ('summer fragrance').
The following limited editions are only different in the bottle presentation or visuals and do not bear a difference in the scent itself.
Special limited "anniversary" editions of J'Adore en Or come from 2004 and 2009 (for the 5 and 10 years of the market respectively); the former with curved drawn "lines" on the upper body of the matte gold bottle, the latter with a golden medallion with the initials CD hanging on a thread on the transparent glass familiar amphora-shaped body. A shimmery version called J'Adore Divinement d'Or (Gold Supreme) was issued in 2006 with gold shimmer suspended in the juice.
Have you ever lost sleep over the notion of an unattainable ideal? Have you longed and ached for that which you have not even experienced? Are you like the hero in Steppenwolf , a lone soul in search of the sublime revelation of self in the whirlwind of a crumbling civilization? Those questions might ring silly to someone who hasn't known the pang of desire that a beautiful perfume stirs in the soul. And Nombre Noir is one such beautiful but unattainable perfume.
In a revelation of Lachesis I happened upon a little stash of it out of the blue; the elusive Kooh-i-Noor that had been escaping me for long. Or so I thought. Years passed since the last batch of this black glove has been produced and I wonder how much of its initial beauty has been smeared like mascara after a hard night partying. I will probably never know. What I do know is that it was immediately and unknownigly admired by my discerning companion who proclaimed it “beautiful and haunting”. It is just my luck that he always loves the rare and expensive things, I guess. For what is worth I will cherish the little I do have and not break my neck in vain.
Nombre Noir was created in 1981 by nose Jean-Yves Leroy, one of the in-house perfumers for the Japanese brand Shiseido, under the artistic direction of Serge Lutens and Yusui Kumai, aiming to create their first "western" fragrance. Lutens chose an extremely expensive natural osmanthus and a synthetic aromachemical, a big-stock damascone molecule of rosy-woody with prune. In The Emperor of Scent, Turin called it "one of the five great perfumes of the world" and lamented its passing, creating a stampede on Ebay for the elusive golden juice of olfactory paradise. The perfume became infamous for its breakthrough packaging designed in collaboration among Serge Lutens, Shuichi Ikeda and Masataka Matsubara. "The most unremittingly, sleekly, maniacally luxurious packaging you can imagine: a black octagonal glass Chinese bottle nestled in exquisitely folded black origami of the most sensuous standard." Despite its high retail price, however, Nombre Noir was losing money because of the packaging according to rumours. And then it disappeared, to be lamentably discontinued shortly thereafter. The real reason seems to be because the high percentage of damascones contained contributed to the perfume being photo-sensitising.
Damascones are potent aromacemicals synthesized in the lab through a difficult procedure that is reflected in their price. Because of that and their diffusive odour profile they are usually used with restraint, except for cases when the perfumer wants to make a point, like in Poison with its exagerration of alpha and beta damascone or indeed in Nombre Noir. Alpha-damascone is rosy floral with a fruity aspect atop a camphorous note and winey nuances while beta-damascone has tobacco shades along with plummy sweetness. Alas their deterioration upon sunlight is another reason they are usually kept in minute quantities in perfume compositions. Except for Nombre Noir. And that was the death toll on it.
The furore started with Turin's quote and perfume lovers the world over were losing precious sleep over not having experienced this ingenious marvel of nature and lab mechanics. Everyone who followed the perfume community had heard about it but they thought it exiled in distant Peoria. It made seldom appearences on Ebay, sometimes in a faux costume masquerading as the authentic thing, other times its true self in all its brilliance to elevated prices that could be brought back to their rightful culprit: Luca Turin.
But such pathos might have been excused in his case. As he revealed, it was no ordinary encounter:
“The fragrance itself was, and still is, a radical surprise. A perfume, like the timbre of a voice, can say something quite independent of the words actually spoken. What Nombre Noir said was ‘flower’. But the way it said it was an epiphany. The flower at the core of Nombre Noir was half-way between a rose and a violet, but without a trace of the sweetness of either, set instead against an austere, almost saintly back-ground of cigar-box cedar notes. At the same time, it wasn’t dry, and seemed to be glistening with a liquid freshness that made its deep colors glow like a stained-glass window. The voice of Nombre Noir was that of a child older than its years, at once fresh, husky, modulated and faintly capricious. There was a knowing naivety about it which made me think of Colette’s writing style in her Claudine books. It brought to mind a purple ink to write love letters with, and that wonderful French word farouche, which can mean either shy or fierce or a bit of both”.
~Luca Turin, The Secret of Scent
Years later, the elusive was found again and the spark of this love was rekindled. But his feelings changed from infatuation to reverence upon meeting its true self:
“Nombre Noir was still beautiful, God knows, and I could see what I had loved, a sort of playful fierceness unequalled in fragrance before or since, but I was no longer in thrall. Egged on by the cruelty that makes us dismember what we cannot truly love, I sent it off for analysis. When I read the list of ingredients with their proportions, I felt as Röntgen must have done when he first saw the bones in his wife's hand: no longer the beautiful, but the sublime. At Nombre Noir's core, a quartet of resplendent woody-rosy damascones, synthetics first found in rose oil forty years ago. They break down in sunlight, hence the nastiness. But the secret was a huge slug of hedione, a quiet, unassuming chemical that no-one noticed until Edmond Roudnitska showed with Eau Sauvage (1966) that its magic kiss could put back the dew on dry flowers. Knowledge may be power, but power is not love.”
~Luca Turin, Perfume Notes
To me the fragrance of Nombre Noir is akin to a sonorous sonata that is echoed across a vast hall full of oxidised-metal (so as to look dark) chandeliers. There is the high ceiling of cedary notes, like those in Feminite du Bois but scaled a bit down, that keeps the atmosphere somber, yet the plush of the velvet cushions and the brocade curtains lend a baroque fruitiness to the proceedings, like dried raisins and prunes left out for all to savour, not unlike the hyperbole that is Poison by Dior. The sublime rose accord is laced with a boozy and tea-smokey note, restrained and not old fashioned at all, recalling to mind the unusual treatment that was destined to it in the exlusive Lutens scent Rose de Nuit. I can see how this could be worn like nocturnal ammunition against the crassness of a crumbling civilization.
In an unprecedented show of appreciation for perfume and generosity towards all those who do love scents dearly, I am offering you the chance to sample this elusive scent for free: the sample will be miniscule, alas, because I have little myself and because I predict that I will not be able to score some ever again. However it will allow one lucky fellow to not lose sleep over Nombre Noir anymore. And that my friends is priceless...
I will accept entries in the comments till the end of the month, so if you have friends you love, better be quick about telling them. The winner will be drawn on 1st February and announced shortly thereafter. Let the Moirae cast the dice!
Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site. Nombre Noir ad courtesy of autourdeserge.
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