Love is in the Air: My Most Romantic Perfumes ~Valentine's Day Countdown part 8

What makes for a romantic perfume? Is it some secret common thread which runs through fragrances making them able to commuovere? Or is it the added subtext we add to them through experience? Every one of us can tell a different tale, but since this is my post let me today recount some of the perfumes which have marked some romantic moments in my life. Come along and share your own in the comments!

The German have a wonderful word, Habseligkeiten, literally the paltry belongings of the almost penniless, but poetically also adjusted to children's prized items. The fascination that simple things, inexpensive things exert upon the impressionable mind of child elevates them to the level of treasures. I was 6, the strange mix of hyper-dynamism in the package of a girly girl, and all the world was a stage. My favorite props were small vials and flacons of scented liquids and pomades. A friend of my mother's had an interesting collection of the latter, all tiled up on the bathroom shelf stacked like alphabetized tins in a 1950s grocery shop. One little roll-on applicator, inviting like a lip gloss (but rather conversely to appearances horribly tasting) hid a small time wonder, Timeless by Avon. Such was my rapture to the contents that the item was deemed suitable to be gifted to my little demanding hands. Timeless is as timeless a scent as its name implies, a friendly yet grown up chypre fragrance, and it was the soundtrack of my elementary school flirting, as smooth and as polished as a woman much senior of me, but somehow it didn't seem too incongruent on a child; it was the discarded experiment (one among many) of an older woman handed down to a kid who obviously prized them and thus rendered them beautiful and rare, rendered them habseligkeiten. 

Although Anais Anais was my first "proper" perfume, the one I was gifted with because I actually asked for it, I don't consider it particularly romantic, because it was something of a "me too" moment in time (Knowing me even slightly, you'd surely guess this was a phase of pre-adolecense since the bulk of my teenager years were spent trying to do everything opposite to everyone else and everyone popular, no doubt in a passive-agressive way to mark my own territory and carve out my identity). Rather Opium by YSL, which I got with my pocket money after being impressed with it at the time-frame when only Timeless remnants could be given to me freely without fear of wasting expensive perfume, served as the "me" fingerprint. This made it romantic enough, in a Nietzschean sort of way. It also served as a flirtatious throw of the glove. Indeed it made a statement and was highly complimented.

Other fragrances came and went. Some remained. Molinard by Molinard, long before it became a "niche" novelty was the love letter of a particularly charismatic guy who captured my heart. Sure, it's a floral (with aldehydic, green and fruity accents to boot) and can one be any more romantic than offering a bouquet of flowers, even if they come in the form of essences captured in a fancy bottle like shiny May beetles caught in a glass jar? It also had a lyrically beautiful bottle: Lalique's design of nude nymphs dancing.

Chanel No.19's drydown has been likened to my naked skin (this followed a romp in the hay). That made it extremely romantic… Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue in the elusive parfum de toilette concentration marked a summer spent rummaging through the city centre for book quotes on a paper I was preparing for Byzantine icons for the university. Its Parisian "blue hour" wistfulness became my own lieder of sunlit mornings, naked feet in gladiator sandals and roomy flowing calico skirts in ivory. It's funny but there was nothing Parisian, nor "blue hour" about it, my tiny miniature lasting as long as the completion of the paper, but filling me with memories of an innocent time, a time when everything seemed possible; that has to be romantic, right? (If you don't shy away from this idea, try also Etro's Messe de Minuit in a similarly incongruent context).

I have many other fragrances in my arsenal. Some have erotic overtones, from the nuzzling soft (Narciso Musc for Her oil parfum in the original version) to the soiled clothes & disheveled hair of intense lovemaking (Musc Koublai Khan, L'Air de Rien, Dzing!) via the rubber-and-talc of a pervert vanilla (Bvlgari Black, VIP Room, Hypnotic Poison). Some have intellectual associations which by way of reflection (and lots of wishful thinking on my part) earn a badge of "borrowed romanticism": Guerlain Mitsouko, which was the scent that tied Anais Nin to her Sapphic love. Doblis by Hermes because it embodies the apex of elegance and soft effortless sensuality; I only wish I were such a smooth operator. Eau d'Hermes is how I'd like to present myself to the world; I share that wish with a famous perfumer, I'm told.
Others still just remind me of times spent with loving company enjoying the new things, the new experiences: Serge Lutens's La Myrrhe (my first bell jar when it launched), Grand Amour and Passion by Annick Goutal, Ramon Monegal Mon Patchouly and Mon Cuir, Malle's Lys Mediterranee….surely there are more.

Whatever the bond that ties everything together (and whether it truly exists or is a figment of my fevered imagination is a moot point) the implication of a romantic perfume weaves a powerful web which entangles us and  influences us long after the remnants on our or our beloved's skin have all but evaporated.

Love is in the Air: Celebrity Style Tips -Valentine's Day Countdown part 7

"By persistently remaining single, a man converts himself into a permanent public temptation."

Oscar Wilde's famous witticism has been the bane of many a heterosexual woman's existence (and has worked well for George Clooney). The pressure however is on when the "day of the couple" is around the corner for those "uncoupled" ones. As another author, Joan Bauer, wrote: “It was February sixth: eight days until Valentine's Day. I was dateless, as usual, deep in the vice grip of unrequited love. It was bad enough not having a boyfriend for New Year's Eve. Now I had to cope with Valentine datelessness, feeling consummate social pressure from every retailer in America who stuck hearts and cupids in their windows by January second to rub it in.”

But for Valentine's Day (or at least the spirit of the festivity, if not the commercial aspect of it) some of the famous people out there are willing to share what makes them tick, even if it's not necessarily a "public temptation aka the persistently single male".

When asked about her perfect Valentine’s Day, Megan Fox reveals she’s not much for flowers or candy. Instead, the brunette beauty says she melts when her husband gives her sentimental gifts like a handmade card, personalized jewelry or a sexy fragrance that reflects her confident, sensual nature.
(Megan Fox is currently the face of Avon, launching two fragrances for Valentine's Day, Avon Instinct for Her and Avon Instinct for Him).

Kim Kardashian on the other hand is uncharacteristically low profile when sharing her tips for a successful Valentine's Day: “It almost doesn’t matter what you are doing. It’s about whom you are with and the thoughtfulness…even if it’s cooking a favorite meal or going to his or her favorite place!” she recently shared to Gotham magazine.

Of course every famous Hollywood star has had some photo shoot or ad or comedy show which reprises the Valentine's Day theme. I'm merely including a very small selection (courtesy of reelhollywoodselections).
Actually some of those famous valentines are a literary opus in themselves, such as the script for The Misfits which was Arthur Miller's gift to Marilyn Monroe. Others went the traditional way and bought jewels; maybe none went as gaga as Richard Burton did for Liz Taylor, though: the revered thespian bought the historic pearl that once was part of the crown jewels of Philip II of Spain at an auction and offered it to the star famous for her penchant for impressive jewels as a Valentine's Day gift in 1969 (and the infamous "Burton Taylor diamond tale needs no retelling, surely). Liz had even participated in an ad for Valentine's Day chocolates for Whitman's; can you imagine the tongue-in-cheek of seeing that older ad (depicted) and its "he remembered" slogan years later? If you're Liz's date, "remembering" might run you out of serious $$$.

Ol' Blue Eyes (i.e. Frank Sinatra) and Chet Baker maybe said it most romantically nevertheless when they sung that their funny valentine had looks that were laughable and unphotographable. Yet, to them, she was their favorite work of art, and she shouldn't dare change one hair for their sake. What's better than that?

Finally one non celebrity-endorsed trick (via bettyconfidential.com) which I kinda think would be fun is the following: "Throw an Anti-Valentine’s Day party with your single girlfriends: Cook dinner, play Taboo, do a wine tasting, have a dance party, do a Sex and the City or Gossip Girl marathon and enjoy some girl time with your awesome friends." If I were to twist it Perfume Shrine style, I'd say gather them and enjoy a perfume sampling marathon! Now wouldn't that be something!

Valentine's Day Special: The Scent of Unrequited or Impossible Love (Valentine's Countdown part 5)

"And the stars, and the cars, and the bars, and the barmen" [1]

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of wirtherings, of tarnishings."[2]

via etsy

So often we focus on Valentine's Day as the occasion when one MUST be coupled to participate in the holiday or when one should at the very least have a romantic interest at the ready if they're single. Obviously some are happily married (such as The Non Blonde) or happily single (such as Chemist in a Bottle) with whom I organized a small joint project; they have their own anecdotes to share.
Poor me I reverted this year to that pool of endless discoveries: literature and specifically two cases of unrequited or impossible love.

One of them revolves around the impossibility of the love of the nymphet, of a "Lolita", in Vladimir Nabovok's famous and stylistically memorable novel of the same name. Indeed one can hardly call it a love story, tragic or otherwise. Although possibly everything must have been written around this lyrical tome and its "poetics of betrayal" ~and the issue of pedophilia is arising again in public consciousness due to the recent allegations (re)thrown at Woody Allen's face decades later~ one of the aspects that hasn't been quite explored yet is the insistence of the emigre writer on the scented aspect of Humbert's unrequited, obsessive (and yes, ultimately sickly) love. It is a sort of love, no doubt, because he expresses all the symptoms of eros. His male gaze is held by the thread of fascination: on the one hand of the unknowing pull that the nymphet, Dolores Haze, has upon him,;on the other hand his sophisticated European professorial veneer recognizes that the stuff arousing the little one's admiration is uniformly "trash" ~she lacks the necessary critical distance to judge it. (This includes celebrity and film magazines,  shops with knick knack souvenirs, comics etc.)

via pinterest

Humbert's own inherited profession is a perfume company, to which he pays little business attention throughout the novel, but which seems to have an indirect yet potent pull in the machinations of his love patterns. There is a specific reference to the unidentified "musky and powdery" scent of his formative love interest, the child Annabel, when he was of comparable age at the French Riviera, which he traces to her borrowing it from the Spanish maid (a reference that might indicate Maja by Myrurgia or even Habanita by Molinard, promoted with a Latin-sounding name and popular in France). But Humbert also references another unidentified perfume in the memorable poem he dedicates to his lost love towards the close of the novel.

"My Dolly, my folly! Her eyes were vair,
And never closed when I kissed her.
Know an old perfume called Soleil Vert?
Are you from Paris, mister?"

Soleil Vert literally translates as "green sun" and isn't among the many historical fragrances which I am aware of. Supposedly this secret smell, this surreal sun which evokes the variations of light shone upon the two unlikely lovers constantly mentioned in the novel, is the one which has bonded the memory of her to him, a gift from him; one which he chose for her. Much like he chose one for her mother's sake, the landlady he had betrothed a little while before her tragic death in the hopes of keeping at the nymphet's side. But it is still interesting to contrast how mother Haze tricks Humbert into thinking he is going to be picking up perfume for a friend of hers, as an intended gift, when in fact the perfume is then held hostage to be used by the flirtatious woman herself in an equally sorrowful love tension tormenting the love-struck Charlotte in the hopes of catching her tenant's (unrequited) amorous interest.

via VioletHour/pinterest

Another memorable incident of scent marking the impossibility of love shared in literature comes from a part of the life-long diaries of Anais Nin, amassed in the tome titled Henry & June in which she recounts her rising desire for sexual and erotic exploration despite her genuine love for her banker husband, Hugo. Her adventuring desire positively detonates upon meeting the writer Henry Miller (famous for his own unabashed depictions of sexual exploration and erotic experiences in his work) and his beautiful, destitute, but "destructive"wife June Mansfield. The two women indulge in a bit of Sapphic intimacy marking the impossibility of a fully fledged relationship in the context of the mores of the times, or more importantly as the writer continually stresses her feelings of love and friendship for her husband whom she won't quit and June's detached state in life. But it is again perfume, this time in the form of Guerlain's Mitsouko, which creates the tension of memory for the star-crossed lovers.

June asks for Anais to gift her with her perfume as a memento. The perfume is again mentioned as being the thing she notices and keeps as a memory from Anais' house. It's referenced by monetary value too (it's expensive for poor Miller and his wife). It's implied as a mysterious veil that captures the essence of Anais too. In a way, the Guerlain perfume loses some of the respectability and bourgeois factor it enjoys as the scent of choice of a banker's wife and earns through this impossible love, this fated affair, the reputation of a scent that signals a capitulation to some erotic journey of the mind and of the soul.

Anais and another Guerlain perfume, L'Heure Bleue, are wonderfully, poignantly tied in a love poem which I had read a while ago and I hereby quote for you.

"The blue hour perfume hesitates
like a turquoise tear, before falling
cerulean through her hourglass night;
a mauve nocturne of
low saxophone notes
and amaretto sorrows,
echoing footfalls of younger years
departing her dark almond-forest hair;
so as not to awaken from a dream
about to come true, blossoming
within herself; an indigo rose,
unfolding lavender lovers
pressed violet against her lips."


found on Underground voices, Don Pesavento

[1] Vladimir Nabokov
[2] Anais Nin

Don't forget to check out the links for the posts of my friends:

Gaia on The Non Blonde
and Lucas on Chemist in a Bottle.

Love is in the Air: Regency Perfume Rings ~Valentine's Day Countdown part 4

Perfumes serve many admirable purposes, but their reputation for catching (and holding) a love interest's attention has forever been the most popular one, for better or for worse. I elaborated previously on the Victorian perfume buttons and today I'm going to present you with more historical curios. In the meantime contemporary makers of scent objects haven't been idle either and in fact we have a delightful giveaway for real Swarowski pens which serve also as atomizers for perfume (so you can spray perfume with your pen!), so if you missed that post check it out and enter a comment for a chance to win one for yourself!
And now, on to the world of Jane Austen and those Regency styled images…

via 

During the Georgian era the popularization of Eau de Cologne meant no more oily residue for perfumes, so the process of wearing scented accessories was rather easy compared to the thick unguents of prior times. The 19th century gentleman specifically was catered by the likes of Juan Famenias Floris and his lightweight and elegant scented toiletries (Floris notoriously provided the emblematic Regency dandy, Beau Brummel), a tradition that would make novelist Jane Austen have her heroine Emma judge Frank Churchill's desire to travel "sixteen miles twice over" to just  have his hair cut and groomed in London as "foppery and nonsense".
What is less know is that in Regency times the tradition of perfumed rings came into being, no doubt a distant cousin of the poison rings that pervaded the European courts during the 15th and 16th century (and which allowed for the swift disposal of enemies by the careful administering of various poisons ~always at the reach of a hand!~ into the drinks and food of those partaking in a feast). But perfume rings were decidedly benevolent.

It would be no exaggeration to claim that perfume rings at the time are solely handled by the ladies. For the gentlemen the rings of the Elizabethan portraits, which almost click and clank due to their sheer profusion, are a thing of the past; the signet ring (a single ring which serves essentially as a beautifully mounted seal, distinctive enough for signing one's correspondence, as well as an anti-counterfeit measure) rules the day. Women on the other hand had the benefit of using the ring in more cunning ways. As the tradition of gentlemen bowing to lightly kiss the ladies' hands was rampant, the design of the perfume ring allowed for liquid and fragrant pomade to seep through tiny cuts and holes into the material, therefore aromatizing not only the lady in question, but also the giver of the kiss on the hand.

For lovers the motif of the heart reigned even back then, dating back to the fide rings of the Middle Ages (fide from Latin for faith). Its natural progression was the Claddagh ring, which has the heart surmounted by a crown held by a pair of hands, and which by the way that is worn denotes whether the person wearing it is single or bespoken. The rings took on other popular early 19th century love themes: Cupid and Psyche (a tale taken from Greek mythology); turtle-doves, usually in pairs, sacred to the goddess Venus; clinging evergreen ivy, forget-me-nots or pansies (oddly enough a non fragrant flower but very popular during the 19th century); or the bezel-set rings with a clock dial whereupon the gem is mounted on the number 12 and the inscription temps nous joindra (time will bring us together again) in the hoop, popular for lovers kept apart for any length of time.
Obviously the rings did not contain all those symbols and uses together!

The use of perfume lockets/padlocks, where curls of silky hair were included for safekeeping between lovers, was also in use, but the repercussions were less flirty than the ring, which by the sheer movement of the hand meant a detonation of its perfumed message….

Love is in the Air: Victorian Perfume Buttons ~ Valentine's Day Countdown Part 3.

Our love-hued feature on Perfume Shrine takes on the historical approach today exploring the delightful  tradition of the Victorians who were known for many elaborate rituals when it came to flirting, from the secret language of flowers to the flirtation routine which involved the cunning use of gloves, handkerchieves or a fan.

pic from etsy/thelostrooms via Pinterest

Although perfume lockets and scent-filled jewelry is making a resurgence among collectors and craftsmen and craftswomen who are very active online with dedicated eshops or boutiques on sites such as Etsy or Ebay, the lesser known tradition of perfumed buttons is one that has been passed by. It's also something which can be fairly easily replicated by anyone as a flirting trick, as it requires simply a few easily found buttons and some perfume at hand (and I'm sure that readers of this site are amply decked with the latter!).

Among functional little objects, such as the humble button, the Victorian and Edwardian women and craftsmen knew no boundaries in their imaginative prowess into creating patterns and styles that would both visually please (such as the portrait buttons, jet with lustre or the ones featuring French enamel on the high end or the calico ones on the lower end) or occasionally serve other, less obvious purposes. Victorian "perfume buttons" specifically involved fabric-covered buttons which were including pieces of velvet in their sewing pattern which were then dabbed with a woman's favorite perfume. This way the thickish fabric retained the scent, subtle but lingering and creating a hint of a fragrant wake.
The tradition took an especially poignant and romantic purpose when these perfume buttons were sewn under the lapel of a beau's jacket going off to fight on some far away land in dangerous trenches or in the American Civil War, or -less riskily- when he was traveling, so that the fragrance wafting from the chest upwards would remind him of the woman he had left behind. Since both women and men shared their fragrant innocuous blends that invariably revolved around violets, rose, lavender and such ~if we refer to polite society and not the demi-monde who favored heavier and more animalic-smelling scents ~ there was no social faux pas in having a man waft a woman's scent.

pic from etsy/alliesadornments via Pinterest

Another reason for the popularity of Victorian perfume buttons had a twofold explanation. The Victorians had a romanticized and slightly puritanical vision of the body, as an abode and sanctum, where no scent should actually touch the skin, therefore favoring the scenting of accessories such as handkerchieves, fans and the good ol' gloves (for more on that see PerfumeShrine's article on Scented Gloves and their History). Since some of the scented essences involved oily carriers, preceding as they did the modern era of ethanol dilution of powerful synthetics that bypass the problem of staining, the medium of carrying the perfume was important to be stain-proof. Dark velvet wasn't exactly immune to oily stains, but they didn't show as they would on the satiny silk and wool fabrics of dresses. Therefore a sort of decorative brass buttons with velvet fabric inside were created to accommodate and a vogue for long "necklaces" or decorative "edges" of buttons emerged. There were even sometimes crafted into pieces of jewelry, such as bracelets, necklaces or earrings, some of which survive in modern re-interpretations for the antique and vintage lover.

A tradition that should see a rebirth, if you ask me!

pic from etsy/alliesadornments via Pinterest

Love is in the Air part 2: A Very Special Valentine's Day Giveaway

You all love gifts, and why not? I have a special one for you today, thanks to the kind generosity of Jovan Van Drielle of Tijon Fragrance Lab & Boutique.

The prize? A Swarovski crystal pen/atomizer (depicted) which sprays perfume (!!) in black velvet gift box with genuine black velvet pen purse pouch, to write scented billets d'amour with!

The contest:
Please share with us your most romantic story.  It could be an actual date, or just a romantic gesture that you were fortunate enough to experience. Draw is open till February 12th midnight and winner will be announced on February 14th.

Jovan's take to get you started? "My romantic story happened in 2013. I was meeting someone for lunch, it was a first date. As I approached the restaurant someone called out my name, I turned around and my date was standing face to face with me, and before I knew what was happening, my date kissed me! (I'm not talking a peck on the cheek) This was a full blown, take your breath away, "Paris" kiss. LOL.... We've been inseparable ever since. "

Your most romantic story wins a prize...and if there are several good ones, then I will pick MORE than one winner! This is a worldwide contest with no geographical barriers!

Thanks Jovan and good luck to everyone!

Love is in the Air: Valentine's Day countdown Part 1

Rejoice for love is to be celebrated every day, not just on February 14th. However since the blogging world operates by the regularity of Hallmark (and counting on its steady sales no doubt), a countdown to Valentine's Day didn't seem too bad of an idea; there are certainly worse things to countdown to.
For this project there will be tips and nuggets of love lore throughout the first half of February on these pages, starting with today, and there will be a super-dedicated post (a joint project no less) next Friday (so stay tuned).

So, for today, a small announcement:

Jovan van Drielle, owner of Tijon La Jolla perfumerie and kindly sponsoring our site (though this particular post is unaffiliated), is hosting a Week of Love, from February 9th to February the 16th in which couples are encouraged to drop by and play with aphrodisiac essences to make their own 'magik' elixir! More info by clicking on the link.

Stay tuned for Part 2 and love away!

Venus, Mars and the Devil's Weed (Datura): a Scented Love Story for Valentine's Day

Officially Sandro Botticell's painting "Venus and Mars" is a story which recounts the omnipotence of love that conquers even the most powerful war. However, new research suggests a daring reading: that behind the image of the blessed love, may in fact be hiding the display of sexuality of plant hallucinogens!

The art historians had overlooked one detail, and it was David Beligkcham, director of the Institute of Art at Sotheby's house who zoomed on it. Looking closely at the satyr on the bottom right part of the painting (click to enlarge), he recognized a fruit that belongs to the species Datura Stramonioum known as "devil's weed" or "devil's trumpet", a plant with a history of hallucinogenicy which induces men and women to take off their clothes and frolick away. The hallucinogenic effects are recorded in ancient Greek texts hence the use of Datura either as an aphrodisiac or as a poison.

The table set out to describe the painting by Boticelli in the National Gallery of England bears the following description: "It is a scene of adultery, since Venus was the wife of Hephaestus, the God of Fire, but it contains a moral message: the power of love to win and to civilize." Beligkcham on the other hand believes that the message is more subversive. "The fruit is offered to the viewer, so it is important intentionally," quoted in The Times. "The Botticelli is keen on plants with symbolic significance. For example, in the back there are laurels, which are references to his supporters, the Medici family whose emblem is the laurel. The Datoura known in America as "a hallucinogen of the poor" reveals the symptoms in the male figure. Inhibit the natural functions and induce excitement, so it makes you want to get undressed. It also makes you swoon. "

Toloache. Náatumush. Datura wrightii. Angel’s trumpet. Devil’s weed. Names in Nahuatl, Luiseño, Latin, and English, respectively, for the sacred datura plant. A plant to make one swoon out of erotic excitement, therefore, perhaps the sexiest Valentine's Day scent of them all!  

There are a few perfumes which are directly inspired by and incorporating datura in their composition: Perfumer Ineke Ruhland makes a sweet and mysterious datura fragrance called Evening Edged in Gold and Serge Lutens also proposes Datura Noir for a more tropical and suede-laced take. Maître Parfumeur et Gantier has Secrète Datura in their line-up, a powdery, elegant take of the herbal tinge of datura allied tovanilla-smelling heliotrope. Other fragrances include Keiko Mecheri's Datura Blanche, White Datura by lluminum Perfume and Green Datura by Voluspa.

The theory regarding the Botticelli painting goes even further as Beligkcham suggests the two figures in the table 15th century painting are not even Mars and Venus, but Adam and Eve, while the plant is none other than a stem from the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, the very thing that caused their expulsion from Eden; although often referred to as an apple, in the Bible it is not specified exactly. Is datura the elusive element into something even further? You shall be the judge of that.


Datura pic via Deborah Small

Fragrant Offerings (and more) for Valentine's Day

Beyond the juvenile "I love you" teddy-bears, the kitchy sentimental magnets and Hallmark postcards, Valentine's Day is just another chance to celebrate that which should be celebrated each day of the year: true love. And what is love but that force that surpasses all obstacles, all hindrances, to make possible the impossible?
In that vein and collaborating with The Non Blonde, my friend in arms Gaia, today we embark on a small homage to the world's most powerful god of them all: Eros or Cupid!
My first acquaintance with Scarborough Fair, the 16th century folk love ballad, had been in the version (immortally) sung by Simon & Garfunkel (contrapuncted with Canticle, a song about a soldier) in the iconic film of the 1960s The Graduate. Who can forget it, put into that memorable segment of chasing after phantoms? Yet other versions might focus our attention more to one "fragrant" passage in it, namely the line "parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme" which gets told and retold throughout.
More than meets the eye, Scarborough Fair talks about Love Magick. It talks about a couple who have been estranged: She has left him, he yearns for her and to rekindle their love, all delivered in a lengthy message over the song ("remember me to one who lives there, for once she was a true love of mine"), they exchange challenges consisting of impossible tasks which would prove they still have love for each other: she has to sew a cambric shirt with no seams or needle work, then wash it in a dry well, or find an acre of land between the sea and sand. Is it a reaffirmation of his pain or can love do the impossible?

Amy Nuttall sings Scarborough Fair.

The fragrant part of Scarborough Fair is indeed full of symbolism:

Thyme: Girls once used thyme sprigs in ceremonies to discover the identity of their true loves. A more upscale lady of Medieval times would embroider a flowering thyme sprig along with a visiting bee as a token to be given to a favored knight. A woman wearing thyme was once held to be irresistable.

Sage: Sage was once used to help childless couples conceive, and is associated with wisdom and longevity in plant lore. It was also used magically to honor weddings and to ensure domestic harmony.

Rosemary: Was once held to represent love and faithfulness. The plant was used in wedding ceremonies in place of rings as a sign of fidelity, and carried by newlyweds and wedding guests as a charm for fertility. But it also has the meaning of remembrance, as Shakespeare noted in Hamlet 'there's rosemary for remembrance.' Often used in love potions, it is also said to attract elves.

Parsley: It was once believed that only witches and pregnant women could grow this herb--Sow parsley, sow babes, was an old expression. The herb has been associated with witchcraft in England and also with death since ancient times. But more importantly, it is said to provoke lust and love.

Additionally, these herbs have long stood as "messages" to higher ends: Thyme stands for devotion, sage implies dependancy, rosemary (as Ophelia well knew) stands for remembrance, while parsley denotes a desire to procreate with said partner.
Keeping in mind these fragrant succulent herbs enter into many a delicious recipe (or even a scented herbal tea which lovers can share), perhaps the modern herbalism could recreate a powerful love potion, not only for Valentine's Day but for every day!
[source]

Music takes into other places as well, where the impossible is taking shape:

Greek-cypriot singer Alkinoos Ioannidis sings "Whatever love dreams".

"Whatever love dreams,
life lets them stay dreams.
But whoever falls in love
turns pain into a prayer,
turns the kiss into a boat
and leaves abroad..."

Extreme sing beautifully "More than Words".

True love is nevertheless often denied...due to inexperience. Or supressed manners. As in Lucy's and the reverent's case in E.M. Forster's A Room with a View (1985) where the possible becomes impossible for no apparent reason at all...until it dawns on her in the end.



Or it can be denied because it's just seems wrong. When it's possibly the only right thing in a messy situation.

Clip from The Priest (1994): One of the most passionate kissing scenes I have ever seen.



My own perfume preferences for Valentine's Day wearing?
Grand Amour by Annick Goutal: Because "love is everything" and he never fails to notice.
Passion by Annick Goutal : Because he loves it so...
Molinard de Molinard : Because this was his first fragrant gift to me and it holds precious memories.

Boxeuses by Serge Lutens : Because it's so darn sexy!
Amaranthine by Penhaligon's : Because a little skank never hurt no relationship.

Kiki by Vero Profumo : Because it's the perfect "morning after" eating-croissants-in-bed scent.

Hope your Valentine's Day is filled with passion and true-felt, beyond-the-commercial feelings!
Don't forget to visit Gaia's blog to read her own musings.

Diptyque Rose/Eros: gifts for St.Valentine's Day

Diptyque and Kuntzel & Deygas continue their collaboration after the Belle & Bête duo of candles with a new duet in specially designed labels. Two perfumes unite their voices in one delightful song, creating new accords: Rose & Eros.

Rose : Rose Piaget marries to the essence Basil Grand Vert Egypte, with cassis, violet and soft and sensuous musks.
Eros : Rose Rugosa is coupled with essences of myrrhe, benjoin from Laos, Péru balsam, cedar and sandalwood. Limited edition collector's item.
140gr for 60 euros.

There is also a limited edition of the famous Roses candle in mini and rose-tinted glass, soon to be a collector's item.

70gr for 28 euros.

Personally Engraved Bottles of Parfum by Ormonde Jayne for Valentine's Day

In good time for Valentine’s Day, Ormonde Jayne will engrave your beloved's initials onto the gold and glass stopper of their iconic Pure Parfum bottle and have it delivered to your Valentine's door in a beautiful shagreen box. (Please note: The service takes five working days to complete).
One of the many suggestions is Osmanthus Absolute, a beautifully composed uplifting perfume with golden citrus notes…intense yet uncomplicated , with notes of pomello, pimento, vetiver and water lily. According to Snifapalooza Magazine: “Ormonde Jayne’s Osmanthus exudes pure and simple passion and awakens the senses. Pulsating with great honesty and beauty, Osmanthus doesn’t compete with you but adds to your natural panache”.

Price 50mls Pure Parfum Engraved Bottle (30% Pure Parfum) £130

Available from The Royal Arcade, Old Bond Street and the online boutique.

Valentine's preparation: movie and a fragrance

Valentine's Day might seem rather corny to you (and to me): after all, isn't the point in celebrating love every day? But the pleasure-factor of watching a romantic film hand in hand with your loved one, silently hunched onto each other in a dark theater or at the abode of one's home and enjoying an accompanying fragrance shouldn't be shunned due to such esthete concepts as mentioned above. It gives us a wonderful excuse to indulge into a little cinematic game, of which Perfume Shrine never tires. Hopefully, neither have you, dear readers.

So, without further ado, here is what I came up with for today: Let's pick some trully romantic movies, watch the clips I selected and match the mood they exude with a perfume to wear. Shall we?

One might as well begin with the sacred cow that is Casablanca: not because of its screenplay and acting so much (although they too are wonderful), but due to its superb direction and editing, it should be taught in every film school. And it is. The final shots of Ilsa boarding the plane should be taught in every fashion school as well, but I digress. The story is eternal, the repercussions of such decisions echo in eternity and any other ending would be colosally less brilliant.


(uploaded by kayjae)


There is really nothing that can be worn lightly in view of such a torrid affair as the drumroll of war is marching on. Perhaps the introspection and melancholy of Après L'ondée by Guerlain suits the mood more than other scents. Another choice would be the suave 31 Rue Cambon from Chanel Les Exclusifs with its inherent veil of elegance over human warmth and tenderness or the white, heartbreaking beauty of Un Lys by Serge Lutens. All trully Parisian scents, the Paris they will forever cherish in their hearts.

One of the lighter, funnier romantic comedies I have been enjoying every chance I get has been Down with Love with Renee Zellwegger and Ewan McGregor from 2003: a superb homage to the Doris Day-Rock Hudson movies.
In a very accurate (down to the last detail!) retro early-60s-style it tells the story of Barbara Novak. A feminist advice author, she shuns love only to get caught under the spell of Catcher Block, a playboy who, disappointed when no longer able to pursue his affairs due to her book's success, goes undercover in an attempt to "break" her and prove the falacy of her axiom. I will leave the end for you to discover if you haven't yet.
Pure unadulterated, unapologetic fun and with the usual amazing singing by Ewan, who could be an excellent singer any day.


(uploaded by catalinadarling)

Since this is about the eternal battle of the sexes and so firmly set in the 60s I suggest you watch it with a good swooooosh of nearly unisex Eau Sauvage by Christian Dior. This light, citrusy spell with a fresh whiff of jasmine aroma will have you longing for spring days of love.
Or you could go for Parfumerie Generale Eau de Circe, a potion for a light-hearted hip seductress and Pillow of Flowers by Parfums Armando Martinez which is as luminous as a string of pearls over a colourful, tailored shift dress.

The way we were (1973) by Sydney Pollack is arguably one of the better known tearjerkers in cinematic history as we all feel a pang of silent pain as we watch the determined heroine unexpectedly meet the object of her younger days adoration in the arms of another woman years later, simply stating: "Your girl is lovely, Hubbell". Their separation due to different goals in life holds a moral tale: Jewish Katie with her leftish views doesn't quite fit on the arm of WASP Hubbell who is a promising writer who ultimately compromises his talent. But as her personality shines through in the duration of the film, his own shortcomings, despite the smashing looks, become poignently apparent.
However I chose not to show you a clip of the film in question, but off the beaten track rather go for a glorious reference of it in pop culture: from the finale of season 2 of Sex and the City , in which Carrie identifies with the heroine. Be sure to watch this in its entirety, it is trully funny and sensitive.


(uploaded by denysa25)

If you want to pop in the DVD and watch it (again or for the first time), might I suggest you bring out the quite good scent by Sarah Jessica Parker herself, Lovely: musky but refined, it doesn't quite fit the last lines, but it is very pretty. As much as Sarah Jessica's gown with all those blonde curls are in the final scene.
If you are after the wild mood suggested by the final line however, you should choose Vero Profumo Onda: a beast of a scent that is trully untamed!



Romantic tales couldn't be left without one of the most lyrical films in the history of cinema: Elvira Madigan (1967), a Swedish film of the doomed affair of a circus acrobat and a married lieutenant with kids. Set to the ethereal 1st movement of Mozart's piano concerto No.21 it utilizes the beauty of swedish midsummer nature as the backdrop of its beautiful heroes.

visit videodetective.com for more info

Dzing! would be the obvious choice if you want to evoke the atmosphere of the circus, yet somehow the scenery is too beautiful for such a quirky (albeit fabulous) scent. The hay stacks, the summer skies, the youthfulness of both protagonists' features call for Extrait de Songe/L'ete en douce (the name it has recirculated under) by L'artisan Parfumeur. Perhaps the tragic tale behind Fleur de Narcisse, the limited edition of L'artisan from 2006 is even better suited to the fateful end of the two lovers.


Sometimes, romance comes with the feeling of a well-worn slipper. What I mean: Sometimes, love is under our own nose and is someone we're taking for granted. Just like Harry and Sally and their meeting. Or rather series of meetings which culminate into genuine friendship. And then romance. And then...
But surely, you have watched this modern classic about relationships!


(uploaded by agizemk)

And there is even a perfume reference in the very end: "I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes". What other declaration of true love could you ask for?
A fragrance that can be worn casually, with conviction and flair, secure in the knowledge it suits you like your favourite sweater, then. Like Marc Jacobs Amber Splash. Or Tauer's Reverie au Jardin, the softly envelopping of fresh lavender by velvety musk, which can be shared between you two.

Last but certainly not least, my own favourite: the fourth story in the Greek classic film The counterfeit sovereign (Kalpiki lira) from 1955 by Yiorgos Javellas/ In four chapters a counterfeit sovereign is made by an honest engraver guiled by a dishonest seductress to fall into the hands of a beggar and a prostitute and then to a wealthy miser.
In the final chapter, with a gut wrenching performance by Elli Lambeti and Dimitris Horn, a young struggling artist falls in love with a rich girl when they meet at said miser's New Year Eve's dinner when they win a gold sovereign while cutting the traditional lucky pie of the day: upon it they pledge their love, never to sell it and decide to marry. He paints her portrait when he is inspired by her casual "I love you" one day. But hardships come their way and they split, for her to remarry in line with her social class this time. We can feel the bitterness as the former husband says in the gallery: "Unlike the model that posed for it, this is not for sale! This is all mine."
Years later they meet again:
-"The sovereign on which we pledged our love was.....
-Counterfeit.
-Counterfeit...But our love was true, Paul."


(uploaded by elliniki kardia)It never fails to move me...The yearning and poignancy remind me of the delicate silk faille of Pontevecchio W by Nobile 1942...and of course the eternal Mitsouko.



What fragrance would you choose to match the mood of these or your own favourite romantic films?
I'd love to hear.