Showing posts with label woody floral musk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label woody floral musk. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her: fragrance review

There are brands conceived to claim something very potent, to break with the mold of their times, and to establish themselves in the market, spawning a thousand variations on their theme in their wake. Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her is not only a sort of a pioneer (albeit indirectly), coming out in the market as a "nouveau chypre"—a modern take on the mossy "chypre" family of perfumes—but also one of its most radiant representatives: it's hard not to notice a wearer of Narciso For Her, even though the scent itself isn't particularly pungent in any of its broken-apart constituents; not too harsh, too sweet nor too bitter, it's however very noticeable and radiates for miles.

via

Technically Narciso For Her is a floral woody musk, not a proper "chypre" perfume (chypres are a classic fragrance family of very perfume-y scents with a floral heart sandwiched between fresh bergamot on top and the tension of trickle-like, leather-smelling labdanum resin and mossy, inky oakmoss, from a parasite growing on oaks, in the less volatile stages of the fragrance's development) Narciso For Her instead constructs the scent on vetiver (a Far East grass with a fresh and earthy feel) and fractalized patchouli, meaning a "cleaned up" patchouli essence, manipulated in the lab to divest it of its more hippie-like facets for which the natural extract, with its dirty chocolate overtones, is famous.
The floral component in Narciso is all a fantasy of abstraction: the orange blossom and osmanthus notes are registering as an intense sweetness, but you cannot bring yourself to proclaim "this is X flower, that is Y." Fans often say it doesn't smell like perfume per se and this is its major draw.

The aromachemical Amberlyn (a variation on woody amber notes, another name for Ambrox) plus a cluster of musks supports the floralcy, but most importantly gives tremendous diffusion and lasting power, without gazing everyone in close proximity, the pitfall of many a potent fragrance. The ingenious quality of Ambrox is its ability to come into and out of focus at intervals without being perceived as anything concrete; the person wearing the scent or someone sitting close by that person isn't constantly aware of the potent aromachemical. This allows for the necessary breathing space, alongside the clean egyptian musk at the core of the Narciso For Her scent, but also the necessary time chasm that gives us license to re-appreciate a beautiful thing we have come in contact with. "Look. Turn away. Now look again." If that is the definition of a beautiful human being's impression on those who pass him/her by on the street, Narciso For Her is its analogy in scent terms; smell, now forget about it, then smell again and be charmed anew.

For a breakdown of the concentrations (eau de toilette, eau de parfum, musk oil etc) & flankers of Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her fragrance, refer to THIS GUIDE.

More Narciso Rodriguez fragrance reviews and news HERE.
Musk fragrances guide and reviews HERE.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Marchesa Parfum d'Extase: fragrance review

Some perfumes are what in perfumista-land we call "compliment getters"; they elicit spontaneous feedback from strangers in the decidedly positive end of the spectrum. Usually this either has to do a bit with current trends (familiarity creates recognition and fuzzy warmth) or -ironically enough- with breaking away from trends (something totally novel and unexpected has a way of ripping through our preconceptions and making as notice it). And sometimes it just has to do with the overall character of a smell: it can be gracefully smooth, easy, a sort of effortless elegance which anyone can graft onto them.  The kind of thing you put on and forget about it, until someone comments on it. Parfum d'Extase by Marchesa is one case among that latter category, because even though it's neither novel nor overpopular, it breeds that sort of cozy reception which accounts for having people say "hey, you smell really nice, what's that?". So, lemme tell you what that is.

I tried the new "all over mist" version of Parfum d'Extase, available at Sephora, which denotes a lighter concentration to be used all over. This kind of formula allows for a more spread application and I do just that, reveling in being allowed to indulge in this kind of wild abandon, knowing I'm not gassing anyone with potent fumes. (You wouldn't see me doing that with YSL Opium or Carnal Flower, would you!). That means a generous spray on hair and on the hairline at the back of my neck, one spray on chest and belly each, behind the knees and a touch on my wrists. In total about 6 spritzes of silky goodness.

The fragrance is a white flower concoction (an abstract mix that is hard to pinpoint) with a lovely touch of cool and clean rained-upon fresh leaves vibe, which we have come to collectively call "iris" in modern fragrances, when in fact this is a half truth (the secret is the irone molecules which are added in the formula, present in orris root and giving that specific tinge).
For an iris fragrance it's not at all starchy ("irises" can turn into a "raw potatoes scent" on skin contact sometimes); on the contrary it's lightly aqueous floral at first with a very pretty and extended woody drydown that dries some more as time passes. Perfumer Annie Byzantian is an expert with those silky compositions with a musky and lightly powdery scent trail. The most characteristic note to peep is freesia; you have to have a positive reaction to the simultaneously fresh and peppery zing of freesia to like Parfum d'Extase.

I suspect the drydown part however is the one that has people spontaneously notice and comment; although a non-heavyweight fragrance, Marchesa Parfum d'Extase has a lingering and beckoning trail (similar to the category of "woody floral musk" fragrances) which is felt more by those you come into contact with than yourself. It's also non age specific: it would smell just as lovely and easy on teens as it would on grandmas.

I'm not especially drawn to the original perfume bottle by Marchesa (it's a bit much for my taste and I find the "paste" touches a tad tacky, sorry), but most people have a favorable reaction to it. After all, it's what inside that counts. I bet this would be a crowd-pleaser in your neighborhood as well.

Notes for Marchesa Parfum d'Extase: Iris Flower, Freesia, Black Current, Young Violet Leaves, Lotus Flower, Night Blooming Jasmine, Bulgarian Rose Water, Orange Blossom, Iris Root, Ambrox, Captive Musks.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Chloe See by Chloe: fragrance review

When she's gone, beautifully arranged in her coffin, her hair in loose curls, you never quite remember the color of her eyes or the timbre of her voice, there are no emotional scars of fights you had with her, nor mirth with which you shared confidences laying on the golden wheat of summer in the sleepy afternoon. She's gone, and it was really fine while it lasted, but little persists behind. We all have a relative like that. The See By Chloé eau de parfum is a bit like that, hard to sketch in a few striking, characteristic strokes, but at the same time difficult to dislike; a monochrome which hums with a familiar, harmless buzz which you really can't place.

via becauselondon.com

In an uncharacteristic discordance between ad copy and actual smell the See By Chloé offshoot of the Chloé fashion house introduces the new fragrance thus: "This fragrance captures the audaciousness and strong personality of the Chloé woman. An addictive floral fruity fragrance, it captures the irresistible and playful personality of a young woman fully embracing life. The fusing top of juicy bergamot and apple translate her energy and her urban edginess. Her natural feminity is conveyed through a beautiful floral bouquet of jasmin and ylang that grows into a sexy veil of vanilla and addictive musks."
 Rather contrarily I find that the becoming elements of the fragrance are its elegant powdery scent, which translates as a bit retro, its bitterish soapy trail, and its subtlety of ersatz fruits. The "energetic" part is clearly delusional, if by that we have come to expect upbeat fruit salads with added zing. Perfumer Michel Almairac took a zig when you expected him to take a zag and infused the fruity floral fragrance archetype with a soapy-smelling, aldehydic and musky bitterness which makes See By Chloé both eerily familiar (it reminds me of segments off Lauder's Pure White Linen, Essence by Narciso Rodriguez and something else, maybe Nude by Bill Blass?) and a bit like body products of yesterday.

In a way See By Chloé stands in media res in the Chloé narrative, as it is bookended by the silky powderiness of Love, Chloé (which I had pegged as a supreme parfum lingerie) and the scratchy soapiness of the re-issued Chloé by Chloé perfume.
If I were to bring a musical analogy, I'd say that while we associate most "playful, upbeat scents" with a C-sharp major key, this one plays definitely on a  D-flat major like a harp playing scales into infinity.


Essentially a linear perfume, equal parts feminine as masculine, with a fuzzy warmth which projects at a considerable radius, and a pronounced longevity especially when sprayed on fabric, See By Chloé strikes me as inoffensive and innocuous, probably aimed at a younger audience with no intricate expectations beyond the "you smell good" quip, and yet I can't bring myself to say it's worthless. It's slowly growing on me and though I realize that I have hundreds of bottles more interesting than this, if I were offered a small bottle of the eau de parfum I might find myself wearing it while solving the Sunday paper crosswords. (Though if I'm to take any clue from Bette Franke depicted in panties and a leather bomber jacket -and nothing else- in the ads I'm clearly wasting my Sunday mornings on said crosswords...)

The flacon is inspired by vintage bird cages, rather lovely to hold and with a nostalgic typeface. Model Bette Franke is the face of the advertising campaign. See By Chloe is available in 30, 50 and 75 ml of Eau de Parfum at major department stores.
More on the See by Chloe site.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Rouge Bunny Rouge Chatoyant, Vespers, Lilt: fragrance reviews

I had promised you in my Best of 2012 in Perfume & Style recap late last year that I would return with my views on the very new Rouge Bunny Rouge fragrances, because they're quite promising for a make-up brand. Indeed, the cultish brand -known for excellent products with a fairy-tale sprinkling- doesn't disappoint in delivering credible jus despite the hyperbolic ad copy on the site.  All three of their fragrances, Chatoyant, Vespers and Lilt, wear well and convey attention to detail. They might not instigate wilder fantasies of some of the Lutens, but they don't smell like the chemical mess of many contemporary mainstreams either, straddling in fact a few tropes of niche (the fig scents) and clutching onto a few of the modern classics' strings too (the Narciso-begat "nouveau chypres"). All in all, not bad at all!

Source: google.com via Kristi on Pinterest


Instantly attractive, Chatoyant is a rich blend with a mix of floral, woody and fruity aromas that draw attention and at the same time glow with the sweet attraction of brocade in warm shades. The creamy core of Chatoyant, lightly vanillic, creamily woody with a discernible coconut touch, seemingly composed of lactonic (from the Latin for milk) notes, makes it a lightly sweet mantle, an aura on top of one's being, what the French call à fleur de peau. The rich rosiness smooths the composition, giving the other floral impressions, notably the powdery orchid "note" something to adhere to.

The creamy and yet bitterish fig leaves and milky sap impression of Lilt is tender and green, a fantasy of shaded moments of tranquility, of human skin, of repose, of calm. Fig scents are one of my favorite genres for several reasons. Their reference speaks to the Mediterranean in me with the pang of sweet nostalgia, the promise of an eternal summer, of careless days spent under the shady solace of the fig tree which these fragrances recreate with almost photorealistic accuracy. The apricot-y, coconut-y nuances are lightly sweet in nature and their creaminess makes them extremely simpatico to the natural scent of human skin, which is rich in apocrine glands partly exuding a comparable aroma. The intimacy of the serene woodiness of Lilt, peppered by the more angular notes of the fig leaves with their dusty, citrusy tang and indelible bitterness, is wrapped in other skin-compatible notes such as musk.

The cool, elegant sex-appeal of Vespers reminds me of the shimmering beauty of Narciso for Her. The intensely musky woodiness at the heart of this fragrance is only momentarily obscured by the lightly peppered bouquet of abstract, indefinable flowers opening under the snow. The juxtaposition of cool and warm notes, with the austerity of pencil shavings and the fuzz of Cashmeran, is the secret behind this scents' lure. As a dedicated fan of the genre it wasn't difficult for me to like Vespers and if you're a fan of fragrances like Narciso, SJP Lovely, Lanvin Rumeur, or Guerlain Idylle, with their marrying a floral note (like rose, orange blossom or lily of the valley) that is clear and crystalline with the woody sweetness of a non-heady patchouli, chances are you might like this one too; it's within those parameters without smelling exactly the same.

Alas, it has been rather difficult to access longevity and sillage in the Fragrant Confections line, as the amount I received for reviewing purposes was either so tiny or it had significantly evaporated in transit, that it only allowed me to test these for a single wearing. The cards sprayed with the fragrances however did retain the scent for days (though you realize we're not made out of paper.)

All Rouge Bunny Rouge fragrances are available on the official site. I believe Zuneta in the UK might cater (if they don't already) to those who are not covered by the shipping by the brand directly.


In the interests of disclosure I was sent samples via PR.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Annick Goutal Musc Nomade: fragrance review & draw

It wouldn't be an overstatement to claim that Musc Nomade By Annick Goutal is an exceptional piece of perfumery and among musk fragrances it really stands apart, poised between the crossroads of animalic and clean, defined by neither, or -better yet- interpreting both qualities in equal measure to the point you forget about classifications and just revel in its chiaroscuro sensuality. If pressed, I'd say it's a "vegetal musk". And it is.


Musc Nomade (2008) is the fourth addition in the Les Orientalistes line which was introduced with Ambre Fétiche, Myrrhe Ardent and Encens Flamboyant. The inspiration of the scents was said to be the smells of the harem and perfumer Isabelle Doyen masterfully wove in sensuous, denser whiffs in the familiar fabric of gauze that runs through the Goutal brand, thus marrying two antithetical elements: opulence and transparency. Annick Goutal was already enchanted by the sophistication of musc devotees, the Qatar Princesses, who bathed their bodies and hair in a divine blend of musk powder and rose essence, and fragranced their rooms by burning oud wood. She dreamed of capturing the aphrodisiac effect of this material reputed to stir the senses and hold men captivated... Camille Goutal, the next in line after Annick's passing, decided to do an ecological musk and with the help of Isabelle Doyen they defied convention in that they produced a vibrant, lightly "animalic" musk without the use of animal-derived products.

To do that Isabelle Doyen employed Muscone, a very refined -and costly- ingredient which is the odorous principle of natural deer musk, married with the natural macrocyclic musks (see relevant article) present in angelica root (containing 12-methyl-13-tridecanolide and Exaltolide) and ambrette seeds. The artistry lies in manipulating raw materials which are difficult to handle: Angelica root essence is musty, with a note of bitters and the liquid emulsifies in alcohol dilution making the mixture cloudy like a glass of pastis. Nevertheless, Doyen managed to bypass all these problems and the juice is perfectly clear with an aromatic top note that singes the nose hairs most delightfully the way a good gin does, to unfold later on a dirty, pleasantly "skanky" ambience that recalls the smooth fur of Muscs Kublai Khan by Lutens and the cozy sex-on-the-haystack feel of L'Air de Rien by Miller Harris.
Smelling Musc Nomade you're left with the impression that it is topless; in both senses of the word: It feels natural, bien dans sa peau, quite nude, and at the same time like it misses those frills routinely put in to jolt the customer into paying attention. On the contrary, Musc Nomade insinuates like a murmur in the ear late at night or minimalist tunes on harmonics-series instruments. The rosiness (reminiscent of the Lutens floralcy in his own musk oeuvre) is an illusion rendered through the facets of Bombay wood, furling and unfurling thanks to a herbal-sweet note like patchouli. Musc Nomade is individual and defies any familiarity one has of drugstore musks, eschewing the sweet vanilla and sandalwood warmth for the "dirtiness" of labdanum, an almost animalic plant raw material, and for a woody backdrop that is very appealing and fit for both sexes. It can be layered effortlessly under the other Orientalistes scents in the collection or practically under any other fragrance.
Its individual character and unassuming sensuality put it in my top 5 choices for musk fragrances.

For our readers, a draw for a decant of Musc Nomade! Leave a comment to enter. Draw open till Sunday midnight.

Notes for Annick Goutal Musc Nomade:
Muscone, white musk stemming from angelica root and ambrette seed, tonka beans, labdanum, Bombay wood (a papyrus variety)

Musc Nomade circulates in Eau de Parfum concentration in two bottle designs (depicted) with
exactly the same scent (same as with all the Orientalistes!): One is the feminine ribbed bottle, the other the sleek rectangular masculine one with gold accents. I personally find the somber lines of the masculine design with the lovely arabesque motifs in the labels more fitting this line of enigmatic scents.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Annick Goutal news & reviews, Scented Musk-eteers: musk fragrances reviews




Clip from the film Il Ventre dell'Architetto by Peter Greenaway, Struggle for pleasure by Wim Mertens.

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