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.

Estee Lauder Sensuous: fragrance review

The scent of Sensuous is rather clever, even if not particularly ground-breaking, balancing all the ingredients and chords in an effect that would make you feel, like one reviewer said, "the victim of your own fragrance snobbery." We tend to bypass mainstream releases in favor of niche, and yet there are some mainstream releases which make us wonder what we have been neglecting, or viewing with unwarranted contempt, and Sensuous is one of those scents.

via

Sensuous in 2008 was moving the boundaries from already well known Estee Lauder floral notes towards an opulent oriental woodsy-amber concept, to praise the beauty and sensuality of women all ages. The fragrance was created in cooperation with the nose Annie Buzantian of Firmenich, who composed it of sensual lily notes, magnolia and jasmine petals in the top. The heart brings aromas of molten wood and amber, while the base introduces sandalwood, black pepper, juicy mandarin pulp and honey.

Lightly spicy and quite creamy, the original Sensuous gives me a warm, soft, just right impression of lightly scented skin, in a way paying homage to the creations of Lutens (though less spicy-sweet), but also winking in the direction of Tom Ford's personal favorite Santal Blush, which is also a very creamy and smooth skin scent if you let it dry down. The sandalwood is what is most prominent on my skin, totally a creative attempt at giving that old mainstay of perfumery a valiant effort, but quite effective and very indulgent; it's skin-like at the same time as it's clean and polished, perhaps with a distant whiff of smokiness in the background.

The advertising campaign for the original Sensuous was actually talking about "molten woods", which is as good a term as any fantasy line, I guess, to capture that titillating balance between straight-faced earnestness and blurted out seductiveness. People still pick perfume in order to appear more alluring, there's no use in denying it. So Lauder embraced it, but in a quite classy and clever way, which should teach the market a lesson or two.

The way to do that was to employ several different spokes models (actually two well-known actresses, the pleasantly mature and established Liz Hurley and the not-so-ridiculed-on-U.S-soil Gwyneth Paltrow; and two supermodels, Carolyn Murphy and Hilary Rhoda), dressed in an identical white man's shirt in various stages of decency. The move is clever in a double whammy way: men's shirts, as worn by women, not only offer a morning-after visual code that the public has been conditioned to interpret in exactly this way thanks to endless movies utilizing the trope, but also an androgynous way to borrow the "better" qualities of the masculine gender in the public perception and stereotyping, i.e. self-confidence, assertive disposition, a devil-may-care regard for others' responses. So in one single decision, Lauder and their creative directors managed to appeal to a woman who is both strong enough to not care about men's weighing of her value, but also attractive enough to have men in her life in a sexual way.

The next installment in the Sensuous line came in September 2010, more fittingly season-wise, in the countdown to Christmas. Sensuous Noir is indeed a rather dark fragrance and my personal favorite in the triptych.


Please visit Estee Lauder fragrance reviews and news on the PerfumeShrine.com using this link.

Cerruti 1881: fragrance review

The realm of soapy fragrances is huge, probably because "cleanliness is next to godliness" in several cultures. Therefore buying at least one fragrance that would prolong that feeling of freshness and would broadcast one's good intentions and respectability all around is probably necessary in an inclusive and nuanced fragrance wardrobe.

Fenella Chudoba by Zhang Jingna via

Within this vast field there is a spectrum: some soapy nuances come from fatty aldehydes, accounting for classic aldehydic florals like Chanel no.5 and Arpege, some come with powdery accents like Caleche, while some with their own dry but at the same time soothing, innocent elements. Cerruti 1881 belongs to this latter category with "flour de lin" its signature core note, as per perfumer Claire Cain.

The note of chamomile is the dominant one, however, throughout Cerruti 1881 For Women, a soothing note of German chamomile tisane, almost soporific, though the dryness of the composition retains it from becoming too juvenile and keeps it in the adult world.  Herbal without being green or aromatic, it projects like an imaginary linen flower, tactile and smooth.
A section of iris projects starchy and ironed, like a shirt that has been pressed, while the accompanying, powerful note of mimosa is that touch of innocence that prolongs the feeling of the chamomile. Mimosa has light heliotrope-like and honeyed-sugared aspects, and it naturally includes farnesol which acts as an insect pheromone within the blossom, but as a fixative and floralizer in perfumery. It almost gives a linden tree impression, which further reinforces the soothing properties of chamomile.

In short, it's hard to be seen as dangerous in something like Cerruti 1881, but its dry elegance makes it a suitable fragrance for innocuous occasions and office wear. Its light, starched florals quality makes for an easy like from most people.

Keiko Mecheri Myrrhe et Merveilles: fragrance review

When it comes to Keiko Mecheri's Myrrhe et Merveilles the thrill of the unexpected in meeting myrrh in a modern formula is fractured into a thousand pieces. La Myrrhe by Serge Lutens just had it for lunch. For a long time I felt that the Mecheri line followed the Lutensian opus a bit too closely for comfort; it felt like glorified duping and if one is going that way why not admit it... I thought. But thankfully testing and retesting for the purposes of really getting an education on myrrh, I saw the error of my ways and finally came to appreciate this Mecheri fragrance for what it is: a luxurious and somewhat aloof soapy myrrh; one which showcases the element quite well without the mushroom earthiness of La Myrrhe.

by Taras Loboda, Ukrainian painter, 1961 via

If you squeeze your eyes a bit and look at it that way, Myrrhe et Merveilles might start giving you impressions of classic YSL Opium. It's only a slice of its hot iron hiss on a white starched shirt but it's plenty. The floral heart is rather spicy like carnations and almond blossoms smothered in musk. The musk is so prominent that the compoisition feels silken. Powdery almost. The "merveilles" (i.e. wonders) manifest themselves through the details, but they're enough to differentiate it from its mystical predecessor.

If your track record in orientals is good so far Myrrhe et Merveilles can only enhance it. 

Serge Lutens La Myrrhe: fragrance review

Frankincense is met at the church as the censer spreads the fragrant smoke in the congregation. Myrrh is met at asketaria; monastic places of anchorites who end up their days exuding the smell of sanctity...or so witnesses say. In the iconoclastic La Myrrhe by Serge Lutens myrrh takes center stage given a centripental force spin which makes you lean your neck all the way up to there to just observe the gracious arc before it plunges into bittersweet soap¨aldehydes play their part with bravado. The overlaying accents of mandarin and honeyed notes melt's La Myrrhe's bitter resinous heart into the illusion of prettiness. When in fact it's a compellingly strange study in contrasts.

via

The word "demon" (δαίμων) means spirit or divine power replete with knowledge in classical Greek mythology; at least up to the Neo-Platonics. Hence Socrates's famous claim of "being true to his inner demonium" and Diotema's lesson to him in Plato's Symposium that "love is a greater demon". Is myrrh therefore a demon? An entity between material (mortal) and spirit (divine knowledge)?

Myrrh is indeed someplace between the two; its very nature bears this duality. On the one side a numbing of the senses; a narcotic hedone that lulls the pain. On the other a scourging bitterness that reminds us of the pain of life. Two isomers that share the same structure arranged in different ways; two faces of Janus.

via

Lutens and his perfumer sidekick Christopher Sheldrake were therefore the first to showcase the Janus-like nature of myrrh for all its worth in their epoch making creation. Experiencing La Myrrhe takes multiple uses to savor the bittersweet elements and the waxy-aldehydic shimmer that glistens upon skin application. I very much doubt I was fully aware of the complexity and irony built into it when zooming on the reddish liquid and paying for it that momentous time back. It must have been pure instinct or the patron saint of perfumery St. Magdalene who guided my young hand; it was my very first "bell jar" out of the purple seraglio in the Palais Royal and it marked me with its duality ever since.

Hermes Eau de Neroli Dore: fragrance review

Although it might seem like Eau de Néroli Doré is more masculine leaning and could be interpreted by the casual "sniffeur" as maudlin its crunchy texture is indicative of great dexterity in the treatment of ingredients and concepts.

It feels at once golden and soapy and with a leather undertone like a handsome person who just put on the world's fluffiest T-shirt and trousers in Egyptian cotton and the softest leather slip-ons in existence just to enjoy a morning view of the orchard by the sea. I'm sold.

My full review can be found on Fragrantica.

Berdoues Cologne Grand Cru Selva do Brazil: fragrance review

You emptied the soapy suds onto the polished wooden floorboards by accident, knocking the full bucket in one tug of the broom. The planks got soaked, a mess all around, hair on end, screaming.
I later apologized. You were furious I held this against you. "We're building a nest, baby", you said. Made me feel small, so small; not a feeling I often get. I don't know if it was your tone or the comforting soapy feel, recalling new beginnings, but I allowed myself to feel optimistic.

Wearing Selva do Brazil feels small, so small, and comforting in an optimistic way. The soap, the woodiness, the polished woodplanks, the summer air all around, the vetiver cologne in the distance, at the crook of your neck. It just felt like home. And I was sold.

Perfectly shareable, leaning slightly masculine, more than Maison Berdoues Scorza di Sicilia, but pleasantly borrowed by women. If you like subtle woody scents, this is for you. Beautiful bottle too, as usual.

A note on terminology: Though "cologne" might evoke either short lasting power or a masculine effect I assure you that it's a rather decent eau de toilette duration scent that could be worn by either men or women in warm weather (I suspect it'd get drowned in the cold).

Clinique Aromatics in White: fragrance review

It's easy to get immersed in the White Bear Problem while reading Clinique's laconic message for their newer fragrance Aromatics in White.

 Pretty. Intense.

 What does your mind "read"? Pretty intense, right?

As Dostoevsky wrote in 1863, "Try to pose for yourself this task: not to think of a polar bear, and you will see that the cursed thing will come to mind every minute."

In a way Aromatics in White is both things; both at once, but not one stressing itself upon the other.
It's a quite decent and very contemporary modernization of what has been the Great Dragon of the Clinique stable of thoroughbreds, Aromatics Elixir. The company is of course owned by the Lauder Group and the same IFF perfumers, like the legendary Bernand Chant have worked for both outfits ~the archetype is his handiwork, as is Aramis for men -another Lauder offshoot-, Lauder's own Azuree perfume and Alliage.


The classic Aromatics Elixir, is the scent that half of Athens, Greece, smells of. (The other half smells of car exhaust, lush jasmine vines, roasted coffee and charcoal smoke from diners. It'd make a pretty intense and pretty great perfume; indie perfumers take note!) Its commercial success is uncanny, for decades on end; it can't be just a generational thing, but something much more ingrained in the country and its cultural "chypre" heritage. After all history is a hard subject to shoot down...

Hardcore chypres are nothing if not head-strong, and thus the original is much derided, polarizing its audience; from mad love to "old lady" slurs of disgust, "a dream to some, a nightmare to others!".
The need for what I call "chypres nouveaux" was therefore latent all through the 2000s and the smashing success of Narciso Rodriguez for Her recalibrated what we consider a "modern chypre fragrance". (It's basically a floral woody musky and if you have guessed by now that Aromatics in White is one, you'd be more or less correct).

Consequently the senior Aromatics, with its dynamite rose-n'-patchouli core, had already been lightened with Aromatics Elixir Sheer Velvet Philtre Sensuel (try saying that quickly three times) from 2006 and Aromatics Elixir Perfumer's Reserve from 2011. The arrival of the new edition couldn't skip the sophisticated contemporary style that recently begat things like Si perfume by Armani or La Panthere by Cartier.

"I have always been fascinated with the magic of Aromatics Elixir and its attraction on the skin. I wanted to convey that feeling with a new, modern composition," stated perfumer Nicolas Beaulieu on the occasion of creating Aromatics in White.

Aromatics in White is particularly musky (and I'm glad fellow blogger Persolaise agrees), intensely patcoulisized and quite sweet in a sort of arabesque way, though not quite (no leaden "amber note"). Notice the prolonged, very pleasant powdery-soapy drydown that is simple but not simplistic. Its volume is turned down, yet its impact is keenly felt. And if you think you're not smelling it after a while, lean in cause it keeps itself alive on clothes like crazy.
All of these definitely put Aromatics in White into the contemporary map of worth-whiles (and the fluid, mother-of-pearl like austerity of the bottle is a bonus), but it might never really surpass the Sacred Beast that speaks the Charm of Making. Some things are immortal, even if they're not for everyone.


Fragrance Notes for Clinique Aromatics in White:
Top: Sichuan pepper, violet leaves, labdanum
Heart: rose, orange blossom, patchouli
Base: leather, musk, grey amber, benzoin, vanilla. 

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

Acqua di Parma Colonia: Fragrance Review & Giveaway of Luxurious Body Products Set

It had been ages since I had last smelled the refined herbal, acrid top notes of Acqua di Parma's cologne, atavistically named Colonia and encased in the sunniest crocus yellow this side of the earth's "omphalos". (Seriously, if there's one shade in the beauty business packaging to rival Hermes's coveted orange and Tiffany's delicate robin-egg blue, it's Aqua di Parma's yellow; a true trademark). It was the mid-1990s, I recall, when I was first taken with the "niche" circuit and when coincidentally Diego della Valle decided to rescue not only driving shoes (establishing the famous Tod's loafer) but also credible Italian cologne resold as a refined commodity since at least the times of Jean Marie Farina. Acqua di Parma was immediately eye-catching but it was the simple, to the point elegance of subtlety (fragrance wearing for the pleasure of fragrance wearing -not announcing any deep and meaningful messages about one's self importance) which cinched the deal. My first bottle found its rightful place on my vanity. The rest is history.

via

In Alfie, the modern version of the film from 2004, this is all Jude Law, devastatingly charming*, with a full head of hair thank you very much and ruining his marriage with the help of Sienna Miller, used to have on his bathroom shelf: Acqua di Parma Colonia. And who can blame him**? Apparently the scent scored, as scads of females were hankering for his guiles, Susan Sarandon in all her mature knowingness no less. The cineaste reference isn't without peer: reportedly both Ava Gardner and Cary Grant liked and wore Acqua di Parma's classic cologne in the 1930s. Today you can feel like a movie star when stepping out of the bath of any 5 star hotel in the world where Acqua di Parma bath and body products are a sine qua non.

The story of Acqua di Parma goes like this: In 1916 Master perfumers created a new fragrance in a small laboratory in Parma using natural ingredients. It was an unusually fresh and modern fragrance – the first true Italian Cologne. Today Acqua di Parma is still true to its heritage. The fragrances and the packaging are still both hand-designed and Acqua di Parma is an iconic symbol of the refined, exclusive, and purest Italian lifestyle.

via 

The brilliance of Colonia by Acqua di Parma lies in the intensely sunny, succulent marriage of both sweet orange rind essence and bitter orange notes (citrus aurantia from which neroli, petit-grain and orange blossom absolute derive) to the soapy mossiness of the base; it gives a genuinely chyprish scent nuance, evocative of tall cypresses, proudly standing against Tuscany winds, with a backdrop of lemony verbena, delicate rose and a hint of patchouli, like spots of sienna tiles and stuccoed walls silhouetted serenely in the distance. It's enough to shed away your winter stressed shell and bask in the Italian sunshine Ava-style. Who in their right mind could ask for more?

Notes for Acqua di Parma Colonia:
Bergamot, Citrus, Lemon, Bitter Orange, Sweet Orange, English Lavender, Bulgarian or Damascene Rose, Verbena, Clary Sage, Rosemary, Cedarwood, Patchouli, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Oakmoss.

For our readers, we have a luxe gift set of Colonia bath & shower gel, hair conditioner and body lotion in the glorious yellow boxes and bags. Please enter a comment to be eligible. Draw is open internationally till Wednesday midnight. Winner to be announced sometime in Thursday.

*it is my personal quirk that I prefer his portrayal of the murderer photographer in the grim & great  Road to Perdition...don't mind me.
** this film still tells you all about the intended audience of the product placement

In the interests of disclosure, I was given the set via a PR opportunity. 

Tauer Perfumes Noontide Petals: fragrance review & draw for (unreleased yet) samples

From the noontide sun depart
Here belov'd awhile repose
And the murmurings of my heart
Let me tenderly disclose,
to my forest rose.[1]

Alles ist Licht (Everything is light)

Source: google.com via Perfumshrinee on Pinterest

Writing the first review on Noontide Petals, the as yet unreleased newest Tauer perfume, means I get to -in a way- shape how the fragrance might be examined by those who will experience it next. So if I were to give a direct image it would be light, blinding light scattered through a vitrail pane with geometrical designs, imbuing everything in its path, softening the delineations of objects, creating a haze of happy numbness. It was Luca who had long ago envisioned an apparition of light in regards to a Bernand Chant composition: seraphic angels singing a concert of clean notes with bits of an organic chemistry treatise and a woman dressed in white, with an impeccable silvery blow-dry, descending from the skies smiling, like an Atlantis TV-hostess. Different though the scent in question may be, the impression is nonetheless simpatico to the one that Noontide Petals created in me upon smelling it. This hugely aldehydic floral fragrance is simultaneously clean, very floral and sweetish in the White Linen, Estee by Lauder (a Bernand Chant composition, by the way) and Chanel No.22 mold, with that impeccably "coifed" feel of retro aldehydics, of which Tauer's Miriam fragrance was one great paradigm. In fact the turn that Noontide Petals takes for a while after the initial spray is referencing a segment off Miriam, with an even more retro, more sparkling soapy manner than the rather more soft-spoken Miriam.

Geranium and ylang ylang are commonly used as modifiers to leverage the intensity of the fatty aldehydes in classic fragrances. The trick works; a ton of aldehydes is almost too much to stomach without it, such is their engine combustion for flight that you feel like you're straddling the side wing of a Boeing 747. This sheen opens up the flowers, giving them the propensity to unfurl unto the ether. A giant rose is immediately perceived in Noontide Petals, much like in White Linen or No.22, soapy and warm, bright yellow [2] and strikingly spring-like under the winter sun. The citrusy touch on top serves as balance to the sweet floralcy of white petals (natural jasmine and tuberose), cradled into a soft, perfume, posh base with a warm, very lightly smoky effect that recalls things like Chanel, Van Cleef & Arpels and other insignia of class and refinement of another era. Simply put, Noontide Petals makes me want to press my jeans, break out the Hermès scarfs and the long, 20s sautoirs of shiny pearls and go out for a morning sip of champagne for breakfast and laugh and laugh with spirited company.

copyright Andy Tauer for Tauer Perfumes

In short, if you're a lover of aldehydes in perfumes and have been longing for a good, potent, gorgeous dosage to hit you over the head in infinite style, look no further than Noontide Petals. If you have a problem with aldehydic florals you should also try it for the heck of it: it's definitely an impressive fragrance, very well crafted. For those of you who have identified a "Tauerade" base common in most of Andy's work, I can see no sign of it here, as I couldn't see it in Miriam either. In that way these are fragrant releases apart. But none the less beautiful for it!

For our readers, 3 samples of the unreleased fragrance by Tauer: Enter a comment, saying what you would most like or dislike about aldehydes, and I will draw three winners. Draw is open internationally till Tuesday 19th midnight. Winner will be announced on Wednesday.

[1]Rexford, George C., compiler and arranger; Lover, S.; Woodburry, I. B.; Thomas, J. R.; Wurzel, G. F.; Lavenu. Beadle's Dime School Melodist: A Choice Selection of Familiar and Beautiful Songs, Duets, Trios, Etc. Arranged in a Simple Manner for School Singing, with Elementary Instructions Suited to Children of the Most Tender Age . New York: Irwin P. Beadle and Co., 1860. [format: book], [genre: song]. Permission: Newberry Library Persistent link to this document: http://lincoln.lib.niu.edu/file.php?file=beadle.html
[2]It could be Pantone 7404

Burberry Body: fragrance review

A shame the appearence is betraying a fragrance so much. The gorgeous electric-car charger looking bottle (or a crystal baton, if you prefer) encased in a leather pouch in beige tones is far sleeker and classier than the soapy, synthetic and rather dull floral musk hiding inside the container. The name and commercial hinted at some tryst conducted in the aftermath of a spring shower that necessitated the wearing of a Burberry trenchcoat. The fragrance however is akin to sprikling yourself in sudsy water rather than bodily fluids...

Burberry Body is rather potent, warm and woody, taking in mind the constraints of both the soapy and musky floral genre (which usually tend to lean towards coolish), but doesn't really ever become a true "skin scent" in the sense of mimicking anyone's warm, living skin -or the scent equivalent of invoking the aftermath of intimate action between lovers. It's death by a hundred little guest soaps with rosy wrapping!The chunk of Cashmeran in the base doesn't aid much.

Nor is the composition a gorgeous true floral musk the way Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her and its many different fragrance versions are or Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker. The effect in Body remains at all times a bit aloof, without much of the promised absinthe or the powderiness of iris compositions, the soap a little detached from the nooks and cranes it's supposed to lather up to. The sudsy floral part of Penhaligon's Castile is there, but whereas in Castile this aided the radiance of what is essentially a programmatically "clean" fragrance with lots of orange blossom, in Burberry Body we have a similar phenomenon as in the newer version of Chloé; the aliphatic aldehydes project sharp, loud and fatty, laundry-detergent reminiscent, with a hint of lactonic peach and vanilla under the rosiness, and tend to remind you of a chemical soup rather than the ouverture to some floral symphony of yore. Furthermore Body is absolutely linear and guaranteed not to offend anyone; usually that's a seal of lack of character.

I realise that "clean" and "shower fresh" are loaded and important terms in fragrance marketing, that one has to pick an unobtrusive scent for the office at times and there is a huge segment of the population who is after the perfect "just out of the shower" fragrance anyway, but I'm afraid that this is not it; their worthy goal is better served elsewhere. [Explore our Soapy Fragrances and Musky Fragrances articles linked, if you like].

Notes for Burberry Body: absinthe, peach, freesia, rose absolute, iris, sandalwood, woody cashmeran, musk, vanilla, amber.

Photo: Andrian Wilson, I need you more than you need me. 

Diane by Diane von Furstenberg: fragrance review

The masstige in mainstream fragrances by famous designers these days is such that expectations have hit an all-time rock bottom: Rarely does a perfume enthusiast come upon a fragrance that defies both the lowered budget and the detrimental focus group admonishments for the lowest common denominator invariably resulting in dull, lackluster compositions with as much excitement as watching paint dry  (See Chanel's No.19 Eau Poudré; or even worse Chance Eau Tendre, which might be shampoo for all you know. Also Yves Saint Laurent's technically-challenged Belle d'Opium).

My friend Gaia, the Non Blonde summed it up well: "the perfume, Diane, is a mass-market/designer perfume. It's created to appeal to first and foremost to the non fragonerd crowd, to sell by the bucket and end up heavily discounted on every online retailer website. Rarely the stuff dreams are made of."
Nevertheless, on some occasions perfumers working in the mainstream do manage to create something quite good (see Elie Saab Le Parfum, Baiser Volé by Cartier, Prada Candy perfume or Love,Chloé) or even go above and beyond the call of duty (see the stupendously wonderful Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum, though to be fair this one had probably as much attention to detail given to as an art restoration on a Vermeer); to mention only 2011 releases.

Diane by Diane von Furstenberg is rather in the former category; it lacks that above and beyond element to make it into the great ones, but this shouldn't deter you from sampling or receiving as a Christmas gift with relative pleasure. It's easy to expect something as intensely feminine in a devil-may-care attitude that maps its own trajectory as its famous designer stood for: the von Furstenberg wrap dresses especially are the epitome of "smart woman on the go who hasn't forgotten her pudenda at home".  This is not quite it, but it's not totally traitorous either.

For Diane the fragrance perfumer Aurelien Guichard created an old-school feminine violet composition that goes for a very long-lasting clean and woody ambience, reminiscent of retro bath products; not quite as spectacular as Furstenberg's fashions, you might say. But brownie points for not going for the easy route of too sweet, too fruity (thankfully Diane doesn't like fruity fragrances), too air-headed, too fleeting... Diane is a real fragrance, ladylike, to be best appreciated probably by the high-street consumer who has not totally lost the concept of what perfume is: a manufactured, non photorealistic impression of something in the artist's mind (that something usually is your dessert spilled on your favourite dress these days, so hallelujah for this small favour in Diane).

Additionally, violet scents are becoming trendy again, after their first resurgence when niche perfumery first erupted into the scene a decade ago. It probably signals a mini comeback of class and restraint, after the atrocities of bosom-spilling & visible thongs over one's jeans fashions. Witness Tom Ford's Violet Blonde (chosen to be distributed in the mainstream line rather than the Tom Ford Privé one), or Love, Chloé, both this very season's releases. Hardly tramp stuff.
In Diane Eau de Parfum especially the treatment of ionones (these are the molecules that give that violet, retro scent) via a clean incense note of great dryness deducts the usually candied take that the note takes and thus, instead of intense "powdery", the formula is twisted on its axis to go for a "soapy scent".  The woodiness, provided by that fractionalized patchouli that makes the rounds in hundreds of modern releases, is well tempered, pleasant, even with a hint to chypré coolness. I also detect clean musks radiating from the blotter and sticking on the skin with their tenacious tentacles.
Likable and very wearable, just not remarkable enough. Decent, non air-headed bottle.

Notes for Diane by Diane von Furstenberg: frangipani, violet, patchouli, myrrh, and musk.

Diane by Diane von Furstenberg ($85 for 50ml/1.7 oz of eau de parfum, there is also an eau de toilette version which is lighter & "simpler" in texture) is available at Sephora (online too)

Pic: Princess Diane von Furstenberg and writter Alain Elkann photographed by Helmut Newton

Le Labo Aldehyde 44: fragrance review

The aliphatic aldehydes string of Chanel No.5 is what is termed "aldehydic" in perfumery parlance and characterises a whole sub-group within the floral fragrance family: C10, C11, C12 aldehydes to be exact, creating an accord so memorable it has pervaded fragrance mores for decades. [If you don't know what aldehydes are, refer to this article]. Le Labo's take in Aldehyde 44 is more inspired by the sweeter, soapier, more snowy-capped mountains seen flying above in lesser known (and more American-geared) Godzilla-aldehydic Chanel No.22 and equally American "sharp clean" White Linen by Estee Lauder than muskier-sexier-dirtier (aka Frenchier) No.5 however. Perhaps the fact that it's a Dallas,TX city-exclusive (only Dallas inhabitants and visitors of the city's Le Labo boutique at Barneys can partake of the sprakling waters!) is not totally random as imagined.This is a clean, rested, posh fragrance; depilated, smoothed and hosed and full of energy, not languor.

The opening in the Le Labo fragrance is so old-fashioned elegant and prim in its sharp biting "sparkle", with its citrusy-waxy fat top note, you will be doing a double take to see whether you have been magically transported back to 1955 and wearing a whale-boned petticoat under your skirt. But the perfume is modern, in more ways than one.
The progression is seamless and sustainaibly sour aldehydic into a somewhat metallic musky floralcy in the base, without either too much sweetness or woodiness (The idea of musk at Le Labo can be perversely illusionary anyway, as attested in Musc 25. Perfumer Yann Vasnier is using ambrettolide here in Aldehyde 44, which is a macrocyclic musk, very refined, soapy smelling-fruity in character).
What is characteristic is there is no powderiness in Aldehyde 44, as associated with other retro fragrances that utilize irones and ionones (iris and violets) to denote cosmetic products and old-school face powder. Instead it's citrusy waxy-soapy-fatty, it makes me think it's what an hypothetical child between Ivoire by Balmain and White Linen would be like: the green sudsy oiliness of the former meets the fatty sweetness of the latter, the rosy facets taking on a peppery bite with lots of buds' green, a hint of pear fruit in there too.

If you read that Aldehyde 44 contains woods and vanilla and imagine a comforting scent, you will are in for a nasty surprise: the woods only come from the C12 aldehyde (a pollen-rooty, lilac scent) and the silvery refracting amber synthetic; while the citrusy touches are reminiscent of bitterish, tangy orange rind (which has a resinous quality, not unlike some incense blends) and not marmelade. The floral notes cannot be taken apart, it's an abstract blend where no note rises above the rest. Aldehyde 44 possesses "sweetness" of another kind altogether and it can only be compared to that encountered in No.22 (especially in its less incense-y modern incarnation as part of Les Exclusifs in Eau de toilette) or the classic Lauder referenced above. The sillage is civilized, but definitely there, and the lasting power very good. Lovers of the elegant polished genre, rejoice, this is a well-crafted example; perhaps not totally necessitating the ouchy price-tag nevertheless.

The offficial Le Labo presentation states: "Aldehyde 44 is a small wonder that sits tight between an aldehyde overdose, that gives this scent a unique cleanliness to it, a sublime floral composition that is built around Naracissus, Jasmin, and Tuberose (all Absolute in case you wandered), and a bed of muscs tied with a hint of vanilla. The result is esthetically admirable and unique".

Aldehyde 44 by Le Labo features fragrance notes of: aldehydes, tuberose absolute, jasmine sambac, narcissus absolute, woods, vanilla and musk.

Le Labo Aldehyde 44 is a Dallas, TX city-exclusive, retailing at $290 for 50ml, but only for the month of November it is globally available at Luckyscent and on the official Le Labo site.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:  Le Labo reviews & news , Aldehydes: what they are, how do they smell, where do they shine, Aldehydic fragrances

photo of Cyd Charisse

Puredistance I & Puredistance M, master perfumes: fragrance reviews

The ultra-exclusive (and ultra-expensive) Puredistance perfumes prove that not all such claims are bogus: Here are fragrances worth the trouble of going to lengths to sample them at the very least: They're rich, smooth, very luxurious-feeling indeed and even if the campaign is positioned to extol the exclusivity factor, the jus does deliver each and every time. The current collection includes Puredistance I, Puredistance M and Antonia, the latter of which I intend to come back to in the near future.

Puredistance the brand was founded by Jan Ewoud Vos in Vienna, Austria. If you have ever been to Vienna, you can't have failed to notice how it's probably the most civilized place on planet earth: a place where music flows forth endlessly from every street corner, people smile to each other in the streets in greeting (I'm talking perfect strangers here) and the elegant center of art attracts artists and free thinkers from all over the world in peaceful co-existence of different idiosyncrasies. The world famous Wiener Werkstätte (a production community of visual artists founded in 1903 by the artists Josef Hoffmann and Koloman Moser) is characterized by pure lines and minimal decoration and it is this which provided the inspiration for Puredistance lean lines in Swarovski crystal for their bottles.
Jan Ewoud Vos says: "Since several decades, people have conceived a very distinct image of what a perfume is about. And that image does not fit Puredistance. This will make it harder for us to be noticed. Puredistance is not made to last for a few years, like most new perfumes do, it’s made to last forever. Therein also lies strength. We don’t need to rush things. It will take time, but it will happen. For as I’m concerned: also this is predestinated. Real beauty will never go unnoticed.".

Before you start rolling your eyes like I was before actually testing them out, let me state this once again: These are quality fragrances that last especially long, come in parfum concentration that is delightfully smooth-smelling and provide that can't-knock-it feeling like a million bucks mood. Now let's get down and start salivating over the details.

Puredistance I is the first creation of the Puredistance company; a floral oriental, which was created by Annie Buzantian from Firmenich, NY, on a formula she had been working for years. Byzantian considers it her favorite perfume and her personal Masterpiece, which should be a foregone conclusion as it began as a quest for creating her own personal scent. Puredistance I feels like Chanel No.5, Guerlain's Cruel Gardénia and Narciso Musk for Her (the precious oil parfum) fused into one crystal clear and delightfully "clean", lightly soapy-lightly powdery melody on skin. It's practically purring with delight on my arms, its cool and warm facets competing for center stage all the while. That element which makes No.5 so compelling, the muskiness that exalts the idea of freshly scrubbed bodies which exude their own natural scent, is reprised here in a composition that infuses a little powderiness into the fresh almost ozone top notes that surprises and enchants. Annie Byzantian eschewed the traditional "luxe" techniques (raw materials that scream "I'm expensive", heavy character to denote richness etc) and instead provided a streamlines, seamless formula that feels timeless. You don't have to stink to high heavens to prove your mettle as a perfume aficionado: Here is proof that a subtle, elegant, "fluted" approach is just as memorable.
The composition is a sophisticated floriental with fresh opening (magnolia and an ozone-watery lily of the valley accord) and an overall floral and soft character which shimmers delicately like rose gold set with tiny diamonds on lily-like fingers. The more you leave it on skin the more it gains in soapy-powdery feel, quite delicate and feminine to the core, like exploring a woman's intimate secrets revealed only in the quiet of the night. The white musk and sandalwood are what remains poised when the sing of the birds at dawn has echoed through the night chambers and the sweet embraces are over.

Notes for Puredistance I include tangerine blossom, cassis, neroli bigarade, magnolia, rose wardia, jasmine, parmenthia, natural mimosa, amber, vetiver and white musk.
The perfume extract contains 32 % perfume oil which makes for a very long-lasting experience; you will wake up to the beautiful scent still lingering on your pillow.
The limited edition Crystal Masterpiece is available as:
A Crystal & 24 carat Gold version - 2048 pieces (2750 Euro retail)
A Crystal & high-grade Steel version - 4824 pieces (1750 Euro retail)
The separately available refill, a 17.5 ml. perfume spray (165 Euro)

Thankfully Puredistance DO sell the refills without you having to fork out so much cash for the crystal flacons, beautiful as they are, so if you're just after the juice, here's the option: just ask them for details & stockists (site info on the bottom)


Puredistance M is a wonderful leather fragrance that is perfectly unisex (M can stand for male, but it could also be thought of as upside down, aka W, aka, for women!). Conceived as giving the luxurious sensation of sitting snugly inside the new leather interior of a grey Aston Martin, preferably on Her Majesty's Secret Service, it feels exactly like that: warm, comfortable, expensive, very satisfied with itself. Puredistance M Perfume was made in London by Roja Dove, famous for his own bespoke and semi-bespoke line at Harrods where he directs the Haute Parfumerie, as well as his position at Guerlain for years. Puredistance M is made from a high concentration of perfume oil (25%) and available as a 17.5 ml. perfume spray in a metal grey giftbox or a leather case for the purse (or that glove compartment of that grey Aston Martin!) besides the more expensive crystal presentations.

To me Puredistance M feels like a clove-y leather fragrance reminiscent of retro fragrances that hard-core aficionados appreciate, such as En Avion by Caron; it's delightfully sensuous and uncompromising with a smoother underside than the Caron forebearer, all tactile satisfaction caressing the plush. In the first moments the spicy cinnamon-clove tinge embracing a discernible rose, is prominent, creating a vintage ambience with the slightly bitter nuances of leather in the mix, while the more it stays on skin the more it softens and becomes a skin scent with a faint whiff of ambery-musky sweetness that is delectable.

I know these are not Austrian images I'm going to conjure, but it's like the best things about 1960s Sean Connery and Michael Kaine in Alfie rolled into one and they produced an imaginary super-child that would smell of Puredistance M. I'm totally smitten!

Notes for Puredistance M include bergamot, Amalfi lemon, jasmine, rose, carnation, cinnamon, cloves, vetiver, patchouli, French cistus labdanum, oakmoss, musk, woods, and leather.

The Puredistance perfumes are available on the official Puredistance site, Harrods at London, Lianne Tio's boutique in Rotherdam (the one famous for her Goutal fragrances), at The Scent Bar in Los Angeles and other boutiques around the world (Find a complete list of retailers here).

Pics of Catherine Deneuve and Michael Kaine via Life magazine.
Disclosure: I was sent tiny samples of the perfumes from the manufacturer.

Cacharel Scarlett: fragrance review

It is with a sense of disillusionment that I encountered Scarlett by Cacharel while perusing the aisles of Sephora in search of a gift. The brand has something of νόστος, of L'Éternel Retour for me: Anais Anais with its funeral parlour lillies (no offence inferred) always attracted me with its subtle autumnal romanticism which so contrasted with our innocence of the times; Loulou has been a sweet memory of long-ago, a shadowed Lolitesque reprise of L'Heure Bleue behind the parapet of a circus (and it still has devoted fans); Cacharel pour Homme was rampant in school, even though it probably didn't merit quite such a popularity; Eden and Eau d'Eden had the merit of being completely individual in their own little way (a wet wools fruity-oriental and a watermelon ozonic that didn't hiss at you, respectively); Noa is a pretty white musk with a powdery little whiff that can be an office-friendly scent that's not completely trite thanks to a hint of coffee; and Gloria was ~before its unexplained discontinuation~ a pipe-tobacco dream on the lips of a modern young coquette posing at some night-club wearing a pailleté top and licking Amaretto off her lips.
Then they started producing über-sweet fruity stuff that was mediocre at best: Amor Amor, Promesse and Liberté seemed like efforts to tune in the craziness of everybody else issuing fruity florals with intense sweetness on a bed of cleaned-up patchouli, no doubt hot on the heels of Coco Mademoiselle's commercial success: efforts with results hard to deferentiate between and ultimately forgettable. Along with a pleiad of flankers that didn't shine any too brightly in the galaxy...

Scarlett goes even lower, reminding me of a deodorant mist or a shampoo more than a perfume and it really pains me to say so. Composed by such experienced and talented perfumers such as Honorine Blanc, Olivier Cresp and Alberto Morillas, it's probably a testament to the rush of companies to issue new things at a breakneck speed giving them about a week to come up with something. Or alludes to the desire to adress a pre-nubile audience raised on Japanese-style erasers and soapy non-perfumey "perfume" on their mothers: If you're brought up on Amazing Grace, anything more smelly than a bar of soap just might trip you into sensory overload. "Soapy" isn't necessarily bad, if done right: Great aldehydics of yore as well as modern musky florals prove it can be pleasant and even refined. The wrong kind however can tilt the scales into floor cleaner, deodorant cream and the laundry cupboard.

Scarlett starts on fresh pears that hint at the lightly gourmand and innocent opening of Petit Chérie by Annick Goutal and continues on girly transparent (and completely artificial, detergent-style) flowers, while vaguely being reminiscent of Juicy Couture overall only less polished. It completely belies both its wonderful flacon ~designed by Christophe Pillet~ and its fiesty name that would allude to passion and sensuality (this is neither O'Hara, nor Johansson). And just because someone had it phrased so very wittingly I am borrowing their words for once and quoting: "If Scarlett had worn this, she could have stopped the war all by herself. The yankees would have suffocated on their approach to Atlanta, and Rhett Butler would have donned a bonnet and crinoline and danced with Ashley Wilkes rather than endure our whiffy heroine".

But its invitation is so short-lived that a testing spree shouldn't leave you with too much to wash off, so do give it a try when you approach a department store and see if you think differently. I thought it wouldn't work too great on blood stains anyway...

Narciso Rodriguez Essence: fragrance review

Narciso For Her by young, hip and understated designer Narciso Rodriguez had me at hello all those years ago with its delicious musky trail that is too sexy for words, yet polished enough to pass off as classy; ever since the brand has me curious as to what they come up with next. Proving to be a mega-trendsetter ever since its launch, Narciso for Her catapulted the market into a gene-pool sharing the same musks and "clean" synthesized patchouli bases shaped into the beautiful but traitorous dress of the "modern chypré"; in moments of truth and Sundays' waking up too late after a night partying next to delicious-looking strangers those scents shed that pretentious dress for the comfortable and more accurate flannel PJs of "woody florals with musks" and that's perfectly all right by me. But I digress... Luckily for all of us, the tremendous success of Narciso For Her didn't wind the Rodriguez brand into mechanically and pacingly launching myriads of "flankers"; with the exception of slight differences between the original range itself (eau de toilette vs eau de parfum vs parful roll-on vs Musk For Her oil) and the masculine counterpart issued one year ago, they have restrained themselves into an elegant rhythm which I respect.

Essence, Rodriguez's newest feminine fragrance, didn't grab me as much as Narciso For Her initially did, but that doesn't mean it is a bad fragrance; on the contrary it has a strangely insidious, undercurrent appeal of being made by very skilled hands who were given a not-too-precise-brief and although I am snobishly trying to write it off as repetitive and trite, I can't really. In Essence Rodriguez collaborated again with Beauté Prestige International, the Paris-based fragrance division of the Shiseido Cosmetics Corporation, aiming to capture a "sensual and luminous fragrance with a modern heart of musc enhanced by radiant notes of rose petals, powder notes of iris and hints of amber resulting in a floral, powdery musc fragrance". It doesn't sound terribly exciting, it utilizes the same well-known notes that Narciso Rodriguez obviously loves and I bet that the Spanish-born perfumer Alberto Morillas of Firmenich ~at once a classicist and a modernist and amazingly prolific in his almost 40-years-long career~ could have provided the formula with both hands tied behind his back and blindfolded at the drop of a hat! A recipient of numerous awards, among them the coveted Prix Francois Coty in 2003, Alberto Morillas is responsible for such bestsellers as Armani's Sensi and Aqua di Gio, Bulgari Blu, Omnia and Thé Blanc, Carolina Herrera Chic and 212, Cartier's Le Baiser du Dragon , M7 for YSL, Marc Jacobs Daisy and of course another huge influence on the market: Flower by Kenzo. The man knows how to attract the audience's loyalty, therefore enough said.

The overall effect of Narciso Rodriguez Essence is a clean unctuous almost soapy/aldehydic scent with classical mementos of White Linen minus some of the sharpness and Chanel No.5 minus the sweet florals or the skanky sexiness of lacy panties underneath prim suits, yet with an eerily reminiscent warm-skin-feel that the original Narciso for Her possessed as well. The clean musks featured, with their lathery bubbliness, have their lineage in Morillas's 212 and Daisy, while the powdery segment takes a page off Flower. Little development happens from the initial dryer-sheet sharply aliphatic and abstractly floral opening to the polite muskiness skin-like effect of probably Ambroxan*, (wishful-thinking) Muscenone** and Habanolide**. For what is worth the current modern white musk accord was first created by Alberto Morillas himself in Emporio Armani White for Her (combining Habanolide to Helvetolide**) and he used Muscenone in both Flower and Vanille 44 for niche brand Le Labo. The whole pared-down approach reminds me of the Escentric Molecules line. Although the powdery hazy effect is often attributed to iris, I do not detect any of its melancholic earthiness in the composition, same as with Infusion d'Iris by Prada which utilized a similar approach to the upscale-shampoo-latheriness vibe which seems to be all the rage now (judging by even such offerings as Chanel's Beige from Les Exclusifs). Luckily for the anosmiacs to Narciso For Her it seems to be rather different, enough to maybe give a jolt to their hypothalamus and be discernable to them.

Rodriguez wanted Essence to represent duality: "the intense and the ethereal, the simple and the complex" with an emphasis on "sun's purity" which reminds me of the "solar musks" accord of his first feminine perfume. I guess it's shorthand for "clean and warm" which Essence most certainly is. Lovers of that unperfume-y aspect as well as adventurers of all things delicately musky should flock to at least try it, the rest might find it non remarkable or even unpleasant in its screechy soapy tonalities which overstay their welcome impressively. It's pleasant enough for people into that genre, quite unisex and rather fun (for the price asked) to wear when that Sunday in flannels comes around once in a while, although not as enjoyably fulfilling as the original Narciso for Her is.

The bottle glows from within its mirrored core, round in its glass curvaceousness, created by noted industrial designer Ross Lovegrove (recipient of the prize Royal Designer for Industry in 2004 and art-exhibitor at MOMA and Guggenheim Museum in New York, the Centre Pompidou in Paris as well as the Design Museum in London). The eye-catching design is almost a futuristic, rounded interpretation of the original solid and austere Narciso For Her flacon.
The advertising campaign shot by the lens of Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin
features supermodel Catherine MacNeil to whom Narciso "was drawn to instinctively".

Notes for Narciso Rodriguez Essence:
iris, rose, benzoin, modern musks


Narciso Rodriguez Essence is available in Eau de Parfum 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz exclusively at Saks Fifth Avenue from March and globally in April.
Ancilary products include a body lotion, a bath and shower cream and a deodorant spray.

Ad pic via fibre2fashion.com , soap courtesy of sassylicious.com.au

*Abroxan is a synthetic aromachemical mimicking the ambergris sensuous note.
**Muscenone, Habanolide, Helvetolide are gtrademark names for different varieties of synthetic musks.