Jul Et Mad Aqua Sextius: fragrance review

The shady, cloistered Cour Mirabeau in Aix-en-Provence hides a treasure trove of small cafes to challenge even Athens. But it is the seemingly endless array of fountains that belies the connection with my city of dwelling. The palpable coolness and crispness of water spray in the air are solace in the hot summer months, the ivy clad building where Chez Feraud gets its business, the birthhouse of the painter Cezanne transformed into a small museum, the parade of students resting their bikes by the bottle green hitching posts on the street a buzzing beehive of life… A slice of that joyous life is caught in Aqua Sextius, launched by Jul et Mad last March during the Excence scent exhibition in Milan.

via

Aqua Sextius is the latest opus by Cecile Zarokian, a perfumer that shapes up to become a force to be reckoned with in the niche perfume sector. I have enjoyed her Amouage Epic for the ladies, exhibiting a gift for plushness that doesn't drag by impenetrable density. Her portfolio includes fragrances for Jovoy, Laboratorio Olfactivo and MDCI Perfumes, and also other even more esoteric or fledging brands which I admit haven't really explored (but am open to all the same!). The latest composition she submitted to the real life binational couple of "Jul et Mad" (Julien Blanchard and Madalina Stoica-Blanchard) who have based their brand onto their real life romance, told chapter by chapter, fragrance by fragrance, is wildly different from the thing I expected before checking out the press description.
Although Aqua predisposes one for "water", my mind reeled more into the "Eau" French counterpart that usually denotes a light and limpid citrus & herbs composition inspired by the time-honored eau de cologne recipe bequest from the 18th century onwards. Boy, as I wrong in assuming.

Aqua Sextius by Jul et Mad comes across as indeed an "aquatic" and if there's one genre which the current perfumista micro- world hasn't quite forgiven the 1990s (the median perfumista's budding years, I suppose therefore dismissed for being naive?) it is "marine" fragrances.
This is mainly a fault of the relative blandness of the blends, the impression of chilling silence before a piercing battle cry (that'd be the 2000s uber-sweet gourmands that'd risk giving cavities even by osmosis) rather than the smell of water bodies and the sea that aquatic fragrances in vain tried to approximate. As a consequence of perfumers not being entirely able to catch the nuance seascape into a predetermined "chord" or "note", a couple of aces up their sleeves became olfactory code for "aquatic", realism be damned: Calone, the smell of cut melon, dewy and too sweet to stand for convincing water but wildly propaged such as in CK Escape; violet nitriles, giving the damp and juicy impression of sliced cucumbers and dewy violet leaves (a successful example in Eau de Cartier); dihydromyrcenol, a metallic citrus-lavender molecule with a side of dish wash cleaner, famously enshrined to public consciousness in Davidoff's Cool water and its prolific spawn. Unless you'd been told (or had been suggested to by images of sea & river spray via advertising and packaging) you'd hardly pick "water" or "sea" to describe those notes. No matter, they're part of semiotics.

The duo of Julien and Madalina (the Jul et Mad of the company's brand name) apparently asked Zarokian for a fragrance that'd replicate their meeting in Aix-en-Provence (the Latin name of consul Gaius Sextius reflected in the later Germanic-rooted Aix): the fountains, the buzz of warm weather insects, the countryside, the romance of Southern France. One tends to forget it, rapped up into the Parisian sophistication perpetuated for public consumption, but France is a Mediterranean country, a significant part of its shores bathed in the azure of Mare Nostrum. But as mentioned above, catching that elusive scent is supremely difficult. Aqua Sextius instead turns to mint and a hint of eucalyptus to give a fresh green piquancy reminiscent of the "city of 100 fountains" as Aix-en-Provence is famed as, a slice of cedar woodiness and musky amber diffusive elements, the "marine" part reminding me of dihydromyrcenol (thankfully sans Calone). "The market has homogenized tastes and the crisis hasn't really changed that; people turn to   what is already familiar", comments Vincent Gregoire, trend watcher and the Nelly Rodi lifestyle director. Maybe is this a reason behind using such a familiar "note" in a celestial fragrance that comes from a niche brand?  It could be. It could also be a personal bet that Cecile Zarokian put herself in for; it's not easy to divest a popular trope of its signs and view it anew. I don't know what to make of it, really but at least I can see where Zarokian is coming from.

The fragrance's shade, an inviting aqua (bit bluer than the green depicted above in real life) that I'd love to include in my summery chiffon blouses arsenal, is one of those cases that the coloring of the juice is supremely matched to the olfactory impression rendered.

High marks to Jul et Mad for offering several options of packaging in even really small sizes for perfumephiles to cut their teeth onto, such as the 20ml black glass Compagon atomiser and the 5ml Love Dose miniatures.

Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb: fragrance review

I sometimes wonder what would happen if the art of fragrance naming is asked to be, as the French would put it, en clair―to speak in plain language.

     ~by guest writer AlbertCAN

I am by no means chiding the mass launches, for niche brands wax lyrical, too. (Case in point: Serge Lutens Daim Blond ought to be Daim Abricot.) Viktor & Rolf’s latest masculine introduction, Spicebomb, could benefit from en clair. To spell out its proper name would probably look a great deal like this:

Une ‘grenade’ ambrée à la manière de Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille avec un peu de L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two

(An amber ‘grenade’ in the style of Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille with a little bit of L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two)

Of course, the ironic thing with the truthful title above is that a copyright infringement lawsuit would probably ensue, followed by the requisite injunctions and appeals. And how to fit the sentence above onto the bottle is beyond mysterious to me. So, no in a million years. Yet it is probably the most apt description of the scent one could find, for the similarities between the scents in question are uncanny.

Now one might notice that that I’ve put quotation marks on the word ‘grenade’, for although the campaign promises something explosive and daring Spicebomb is hardly so. In fact the bomb motif is really a hand-me-down from V&R popular franchise Flowerbomb (2005), more of tie-in for marketing integration purposes. It’s a handsome tobacco-infused amber dandy with a fair hint of spice, but hardly a bomb threat as suggested by model Sean O’Pry’s tease with the grenade safety pin.

The resemblance between Spicebomb and Tobacco Vanille is truly remarkable, although I wouldn’t call them Siamese twins. V&R Spicebomb opens with candied citruses—or so I call them since synthetic bergamot and grapefruit are tempered further with fruity pink peppers, giving the scent a suave, silken sheen. It’s on the sweet side, though short of the full-on dried-fruit effect found in Tom Ford’s opus. The bouquet is really ho-hum and plays second fiddle to the tobacco accord, which really asserts its dominance after a short introduction. The press-release lists the tobacco as the base note but it really acts front and centre like a heart note since the scent is so character driven, forming a very obvious alliance with vetiver and amber. Knowing Spicebomb’s creator, Olivier Polge, I would bet my money on the liberal use of ambroxan (and even some tonka bean) when forming the amber—and indeed that amber motif is evident in Dior Homme, another creation by O. Polge. The leather and elemi are there, too, although really upholsterings to create subtle dried fruit facets. On the other hand I would say Tobacco Vanille lacks the spicy edge, though it’s hardly a surprise when the name is Spicebomb—what comes with the subtle spice is the real surprise.

Tea is nowhere to be found in Spicebomb’s press release, but the smokiness found in L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two (2000) is fairly evident in the drydown of Spicebomb. It’s by no mean literal, for there’s nothing transparent or soft about V&R, but the spiciness is there—a touch, really—once its presence is felt. To me it isn’t the main attraction, just there to keep things in good social order.

Thus given all the information above Spicebomb is an interesting breed: Considering V&R license is owned by L'Oréal, one of the more conservative cosmetic conglomerates out there, having a mass-market launch based on two niche offerings—with Tea for Tea being discontinued to boot—Spicebomb is a slick take on past creations, almost like a ready-to-wear referencing a Tom Ford couture. Yet does it really take a perfumer of Olivier Polge’s calibre to do such faithful reference? I honestly don’t have an answer to that, and I might have gotten a bottle if: 1) I didn’t have a small bottle of Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille, which I have, and 2) If the bottle for Spicebomb were more sleek, as the tinted bottle looks a bit clumsy in person. Mind you, if I were given a small bottle I wouldn’t mind wearing it from time to time.* But I’m probably not detonating Spicebomb anytime soon.

Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb is created by perfumer Olivier Polge and contain notes of bergamot, grapefruit, elemi, pink pepper, cinnamon, saffron, chilli, leather, tobacco and vetiver. The bottle is designed by Fabien Baron. My review is based on a free sample I received from a sales associate at The Bay, who was horrified by me using Dior Eau Sauvage and promptly quipped, “It’s really for old men, no?” (Thank goodness I’m not buying anything from her.)

*Read: This is not a hint. Do not consider buying me this as a present: and I’m not being ironic.

Blood Concept Fragrances: For the Vampire in you

I never knew that Dracula was so eloquent in his particular obsession, but apparently he must be: "The human body is totally pervaded by a liquid vital rush that brings us what we are most fond of: Life. Filled with legends and meanings‚ blood is soaked with mystery, fascination and respect: it’s the most tested and studied part of the human body. Hiding the multitude of secrets that reveals our inner and unique way of being. BLOOD Concept is a ceremony devoted to the pulse of life and its visceral boost. It is actually the river of life." Makes your blood curdle, doesn't it; but no, the author isn't Prince Vlad Tepes himself or any of the vampires in the Twilight sage by Stephanie Meyers. It's the ad copy of a new Italian niche fragrance line. Figures.

The concept for Blood fragrances belongs to Giovanni Castelli, a fashion designer and the co-founder of the brand Acqua di Stresa, and Antonio Zuddas, an artist who works in advertising as a copywriter and photographer. They developed the fragrances in collaboration with Apf France in Grasse and the graphics were done by Fabrizio Piras and Giuseppe Porcelli. The concept follows the historical progression of blood type groups through evolution, from the oldest, O, to the newest AB. The scents were officially introduced to the public in Excence exhibition in Milan on March 31st.

Blood Concept fragrances are a brilliant exercise in marketese, as they take as a springboard one of the most influential concepts: that fragrance should suit the wearer. In a much more primeval way this time, not focusing on skin type, hair colour or preferences and associations, but deep within one's blood. Within one's blood group, more like it, as it would be impossible to account for every nuance, like any good microbiologist worth his/her salt would know.


The sample pack came in a scratch & sniff little pocketbook, full of cards with each blood type on the front, scratching surface which releases microcapsules of scent when you drag your nail fingers on it, and the fragrance notes and type of scent (along with a sex demarcation which is unisex, i.e. shared between the sexes) on the back of the cards. The pack reads Compatibility Test. I mean, geez, you have to give it to them! It's as if the scents fuse into your organism and perform some microcosmos ritual. They're careful to say nevertheless that you can test them all and choose whatever speaks to you, regardless of your actual blood type. Phew...I was worried a bit there for a moment!

Perfume O is a unisex leather fragrance, composed of thyme, raspberry, cyperus esculentus, rose hips, leather, birch, cedar wood, and metallic notes.

Perfume A is a unisex aromatic fragrance which includes notes of green garden, tomato leaves, basil, star anise and metallic notes.

Perfume B is a unisex woody spicy composition with red apple and black cherry in the top, artemisia, pepper, pomegranate and black tea in the heart; patchouli, tick wood and metallic notes in the base.

Perfume AB is a unisex mineral composition with aldehydes, aluminium and slate in the top, pebble and aqua in the heart, cedar wood and metallic notes in the base.


The mention of metallic notes isn't that creepy actually (i.e.as in blood, metallic due to iron content). Think of it more in the lines of popular aromachemicals du jour like Ambrox and Iso E Super, which incidentally give a uniform woody aspect as well (to almost each and every one of them, to my nose).
I'm not sure if the method of scratch & sniff cards gives an accurate enough imprint of the fragrances; I'm hypothesizing that it's a bit like judging based on scent strips on magazines. They give you a general idea, but you really have to test the juice on skin to make a definite decision. Based on those, nevertheless, I get the feeling that these are fragrances composed around the same more or less principles with minor nuances: they're niche scents, resolutely unisex in their carriage, aimed at people inquisitive to smell something not immediately identifiable (the given notes of even familiar ingredients such as vanilla, apple or basil don't proclaim their presence as such) and they're not aimed to cajole or seduce under any circumstances.

If pressed I'd say that Perfume B is the one I leaned to, it feels less clinical thanks to its spicy bouquet; a bit as if Jean Claude Ellena was on acid, composing at some remote mountain top cabin made of teak wood. Perfume A is also rather interesting, full as it is of the very green smell of tomato stems, a very agreeable aroma. A bit of an historical paradox though, considering solanum lycopersicum's trajectory in time. The rest didn't grab me; maybe I had high expectations from Perfume O as it poses as a leather. It's rather a woody suede and I think we've seen our share of those. Perfume AB seems to contain that weird molecule that is also present in Etat Libre d'Orange Secretions Magnifiques, and resembles most closely what Chandler Burr had referred to as "sink cleanser spilled on an aluminum countertop" (speaking of dihydromyrcenol); think crazied Godzilla lime froth and you're there.

All Blood Concept fragrances are available in dropper bottles of 40 ml; a little bit medicinal and at the same time decadently 19th century vampiric as well.

Photo of Udo Kier in The Blood of Dracula (1974). All other pics by Elena Vosnaki.

Disclosure: I was sent the sample pack by the manufacturer.

Ambrox/Ambroxan: a Modern Fascination on an Elegant Material

When a new raw material enters the perfumery scene only the involved few are cognisant of the fact. When this raw material however takes the role of manna from heaven in times of crisis, however (see how synthetically-derived irones for substituting orris butter produced "the year of the iris" and how synth aoud made 2009 the year of "oud") companies invest it with panegyrics extoling its qualities. The latest material to do that is Ambrox and if you thought you haven't smelled it before think again: Almost everyone has a rather good scent memory of it through the ubiquitousness of Light Blue by Dolce & Gabbana, composed by Olivier Cresp in 2001, to name but one of the scents which use this raw material in ample amounts. In synergy with other two synthetics, Z11 and Norlimbanol, Ambrox gives Light Blue that non-perfume smooth base which made it so very popular and instantly recognisable on commuters and elevator partners across the globe.

As is usual on Perfume Shrine when dissecting perfumery materials (this is the list with the posts on them) we revert to a little Chemistry 101 to explain Ambrox and its smell in detail. The chemical formula for Ambrox is C16 H28 O. Ambrox was therefore born through organic chemistry in the 1950s at the laboratories of aroma-chemical producing firm Firmenich SA as a substitute for ambergris (grey amber) which was very expensive for wide use in fragrances and exceedingly scarce. (You can read more on ambergris and its commonalities/differences with the term amber on this article). Although used interchangeably with Ambroxan as they share almost identical odour profile, they are not one and the same. The construction of Ambrox follows the route of sclareol, a product of the process of clary sage, a natural essence known to aromatherapists for many years [source]. Nevertheless another path exists for Ambrox synthesis, this time from labdanoic acid, since 2002. The main diterpenoid of the acid fraction of non-polar extracts of Cistus ladaniferus L.) converts using an organoselenium reagent, is then oxidatively degradated in its side chain, and finally cyclization of the resulting tetranorlabdan-8α,12-diol happens. Thus, Ambrox is obtained by a six-step procedure in 33% overall yield from methyl labdanolate. [source] Other paths include synthesis from (E) Nerolidol and β-ionone, as well as through (+) -carvone and thujone. [source]

Ambrox is typically used as one of the base notes of perfume compositions, due to its extremely lasting velvety effect which oscillates between an impression of ambergris (salty, smooth, skin-like), creamy musky & labdanum-like (read on labdanum on this link) and with "clean"/blond woody facets in the mix too. In short, a fascinating molecule that presents itself as a prism through which different facets can shine. Its reception is undoubtedly one of positive response: You're hit with something that smells warm, oddly mineral and sweetly inviting, yet it doesn't exactly smell like a perfumery or even culinary material. It's perfectly abstract, approximating a person's aura rather than a specific component, much like some of the more sophisticated musk components do. Fittingly, Ambrox solves some of the shortcomings of the latest IFRA restrictions on several musks and animal-like base notes. No wonder it's been used so much in perfumes in the last couple of decades! Although one might argue that synthetics replicate naturals due to increasing constrictions on formula costs on the part of perfume companies, the truth is Ambrox is relatively costly in the mostly inexpensive world of synthetics. However until recently companies were reticent into mentioning its inclusion in a perfume formula. It took the pioneering guts of Geza Schoen and his niche brand Escentric Molecules to elevate chemistry into the realm of bottling single molecules in bottles to be put on one's vanity or bathroom shelf: Molecule 02, solely an Ambroxan dilution was coupled with Molecule 01 fed on only Iso-E Super (details on that material on this link).
Recently companies however took on a different path, actually boasting on their flamboyant, mono-chromatic use of this popular material, thus making ultra-hip Parisian concept-store Colette’s newsletter talk about "fragrances fed on Ambrox"! 2010 might well be the year of Ambrox as apart from Juliette has a Gun who boasts on their sole use of Ambrox diluted in ethanol for their Not a Perfume, other companies bravely declare the emphasis on this synthetic: Another 13, from the New York based brand Le Labo and M Mink by Byredo. The latter fragrance uses Ambrox alongside chypry, aromatic and animalic tonalities which are reminiscent of ink.
Whatever you might think of it, we haven't seen the last of Ambrox yet!

List of Perfumes containing perceptible Ambrox/Ambroxan at the base
(Listed in diminishing order of perceptability. NB. The highlighted links lead to reviews/more info):

Not a Perfume by Juliette has a Gun
Molecule 02 by Escentric Molecules
Another 13 by Le Labo
Calamity J by Juliette has a Gun
Mille et Une Roses by Lancôme
Eau de Fleurs de Capucine by Chloé
Light Blue by Dolce & Gabbana
Vetyver by Lanvin
Géranium pour Monsieur by Frédéric Malle
Baie Rose 26 by Le Labo
M Mink by Byredo
White by Lalique
French Lover by Frédéric Malle
Portrait of a Lady by Frédéric Malle
Rumeur by Lanvin
L'Eau d'Issey Goutte sur un Pétale by Issey Miyake
Midnight Poison by Christian Dior
Emporio Armani Diamonds for Men by Armani
Silver Black by Azzaro
1881 Intense pour Homme by Cerruti
Extravagance d'Amarige by Givenchy
Cuir pour homme by Esteban
A Scent Eau de Parfum Florale by Issey Miyake


Please note that another name for Ambroxan is Orcanox, such as mentioned in Etat Libre d'Orange Malaise of the 1970s. 


pic via perseus.blog.so-net.ne.jp