Showing posts with label verbena. Show all posts
Showing posts with label verbena. Show all posts

Monday, August 29, 2016

L'Artisan Parfumeur Eau de l'Artisan: fragrance review

Twenty three years after its introduction to the line of L'Artisan Parfumeur, Olivia Giacobetti's take on the pleasures of a Mediterranean herb garden L'Eau de l'Artisan is still relevant in what concerns a fragrance that replicates its dewy herbaceousness. (I hear Jo Malone launches a whole line devoted to such things as parsley or fennel and carrot blossoms).

via pinterest
The "jardin potager" as it's called in French is usually a patch that features culinary verdant herbs meant to be picked and plucked spontaneously to season a salad here and a pot roast there alongside blossoming plants and vegetables in an aesthetically pleasing way. And personally? I prefer it even to the glories of the roses's beds and the petunias's designs blooming in feisty colors down the path...

L'Eau de l'Artisan beautifully replicates the bunch of them with basil and marjoram being the delectable and quite prominent aromatic heroes. They both give piquancy and a certain earthy bite which is not miles apart from what they offer to a dish.The tension is built between the lemony verbena and the mossy backgrounds which - not unlike the seminal Eau de Campagne by Sisley - translate as a very fresh and very subtle chypre.

I also seem to discern thyme: another popular Med choice, the scorched stems of which dot the hills in summer; the herb often garlands a roasted leg of lamb. Credit to L'Artisan for creating a fragrance that is not meant for mutton dressed as lamb then, as so many mainstream fragrances are, but goes for a little joyful introspection into the memories of our summers spent in the countryside.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

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. 


Thursday, March 28, 2013

Creed Green Irish Tweed (1985): Fragrance Review

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

 This is my tenth year, in various capacities, within the fragrance industry. One does not come this far without hearing a tall tale or two over the years. Some printable; some unfortunately aren’t. Thus imagine my amusement a few years ago when George Clooney’s negotiation for fragrance licensing with Coty fell through, in part, because the asking fee was $30 million dollars.

Now don’t get me wrong: I’m sure Clooney had his sound rationales, and $30 million dollars would surely come in handy when buying a more secluded villa in Lake Como, with the privacy he had sorely missed when vacationing. With this being said it’s doubtful that I would need a copy of bottled George in the first place, for when I am compelled to take after the leading man —along with other cultural icons such as David Beckham, Russell Crowe, Pierce Brosnan, among others— I pull out my copy of Green Irish Tweed.
actor David Kelly in his green irish tweeds

Officially Green Irish Tweed was created by master perfumer Pierre Bourdon for yet another leading man among leading men —Cary Grant. The chronology gets fuzzy beyond this point, however. He supposedly used it, though Grant would kick the bucket within a year after the fragrance introduction. Carbon dating the scent through its olfactory blueprint would be somewhat futile in this case, for it’s a green aromatic fougère that subtly influenced the masculine market for years, pointing to the future rather than its past. (But more on that later.)

Timeless doesn’t even begin to describe this scent, for Green Irish Tweed is working incredibly well for men of all ages. Just like the same Shakespearean passage could be interpreted so many different mannerisms and contexts, Green Irish Tweed somehow manages to give off a different spark in different situations: on a young lad, the vibrant and brash green opening; on a middle-aged businessman, the all-purpose aromatic earnest; and the golden men, the classic fougère base. That’s not to say that GIT lacks character, as it opens with a bracing rush of green and citrus elements such as lemon verbena. True to namesake fabric the nuances from the crunchy green really maintain the requisite masculine ruggedness; it’s as if one is meeting a true aristocrat, but instead of in the drawing room of his ancestral home it’s a chance meeting right before his polo match, brimming with confidence and vigor. Somehow I suspect geranium is in the mix, having picked up its presence among other similarly structured colognes, yet it’s not listed in the official notes: instead we have an interesting bunch consisting of violet leaves and vetiver making rounds before settling on the aforementioned fougère base along with sandalwood, ambergris and modern musk. Iris is in the mix too, although truth be told I still cannot decide its place: Creed lists it as a top note, whereas it's more of a heart note to my nose.

Now at this point readers with a modern olfactory palette would need some contexts before smelling this fragrance for the first time, for its idioms have been widely utilized ever since. The bookends of this fragrance, the green and the fougère, was to me referenced in Chanel Platinum Egoiste (1993), albeit in an arguably more acrid, slightly more high-pitched incarnation. Of course, Bourdon would also famously reprise the structural integrity of GIT by plugging in Calone into the mix, producing the watershed Cool Water for Men in 1988, just three short years after the release of the Creed.

Comparing Green Irish Tweed with Cool Water for Men is indeed a gentlemen pursuit worth partaking, for the differences are quite interesting. To me GIT is gentler in character, less intrusive than its marine sibling. Both perform quite well in diffusion and sillage, although Cool Water for Men balances out the freshness from Calone with a more assertive base in my humble opinion. Now much has been said about the use of Calone, the synthetic chemical first discovered by Pfizer in 1966 but left on the shelves for decades due to its bizarre slant: in high concentration its scent has been described as oyster like! Yet at a lower pitch it gives off a fresh marine impression with, depending on the context, melon or cucumber with a slightly saline dent. Yet Calone isn’t the magic pill within Cool Water for Men, as its similarities with the Creed imply. Of course, the Davidoff is more budget conscious, done with broader brush brushstrokes, but Bourdon’s signature touches are decidedly present in both. After all, the instrument alone doesn’t make a concert: neither in perfumery does the overdose of a novel ingredient take away from the thought process. We also pay for the perfumer’s time, not just for the sum of the bottled ingredients.

One notable difference, however: GIT layers very well with other masculine scents, not only with eaux de colognes but also quite interestingly with MUMAs. Because it doesn’t come in deodorants I tend to combine it with Terre d'Hermès deodorant stick. Mind you, I have even layered it beautifully with Chergui by Serge Lutens, with Chergui at the base and GIT right above, though looking back the combination is a tad assertive for my taste, fortifying the amber of the Lutens to an opulent, diffusive place I don’t normally venture—but then again conventional rules are out of the door at Lutens; I just dare not go that far.

For more information please refer to Creed’s official website.

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