Declaration by Cartier: fragrance review & comparison with L'essence and Bois Bleu

In horror fiction phantoms are creatures who consume other life forms as sustenance, and are able to perfectly mimic any creature they consume. Déclaration by Cartier is perfumer's Jean Claude Ellena's own homage to a phantom's mental connotations and in its turn the propagator of legion of phantoms in modern perfumery. But like its namesake aviation F-4 counterpart (affectionately called "the rhinoceros", although its first proposed ~and quickly rejected~ names were Satan or Mithra) it has done everything in a stealth of silent power!
Largely unsung and not given the proper attention it so richly deserves, almost taken for granted, it is nothing short of an absolute masterpiece of fusing cutting-edge modernity into a classical aromatic cologne formula for men. Eau d'Hermès (a 1951 Edmond Roudnitska creation) has been haunting Jean Claude Ellena's subconsious for ages, it seems. Its fantastically ripe, "skanky" interweaving of cedar, cumin, birchwood and moss manages to provide snippets of Jean Claude's insignia in almost everything he touches, interpreted and sieved through the most minutiae-capable colander; in Déclaration we see the student at once pay homage to the teacher and further the cause in most confident and spiritual brushstrokes of a mature Sōsho calligraphy. So much so that Jean Claude himself has admitted a partiality to this one out of his scented progeny. But whereas Eau d'Hermès went for the leathery, Jean Claude opted for the dry woody, injecting a large dollop of woody synthetic Iso-E Super, a material with which he has been experimenting for years to impressive effect.

"Created for men, but also enjoyed by women, Cartier's Déclaration was created for those who are in love, have an appreciation of openness, and feel passion". The fragrance erupted on the scene in 1998 like the ripples of lava slowly coming down the mountain: it has since consumed everything in its trail, influencing major players in its aromatic wake and pre-empting the new sharp, dry woody masculines like Colonia Intensa for Aqua di Parma (also by Jean Claude Ellena), Cipresso di Toscana by Aqua di Parma, Gucci by Gucci, John Varvatos Vintage and the newest niche masculine by Ormonde Jayne, Zizan; fragrances which gracefully followed the dearth of marines inaugurated by Bourdon's Cool Water two decades ago. And not a moment too soon!
My own personal encounter with it was buying it for myself upon launch, lured by the sexily fresh-sweat-vibe it exuded and then having my other half smelling it on me, usurping it most decisively, claiming it and making it his own ever since, to the most delicious effects which are better left to the reader's fertile imagination. It makes him feel refreshed , as if he's seeing the dawn for the first time opening windows which give on a view of the autumn forest, he says. Needless to say Déclaration occupies a very special segment of my olfactory cortex!

My friend Dane described it in a conversation as "a taxi driver in a forest" the other day and he couldn't be more accurate. If he had likened Déclaration to chantey, that would be close as well: The sweaty side married to the freshness of open horizons, all obeying a rhythmical discipline that engulfs you. The marriage of lucid clarity and sous-bois depth prove its masterful treatment of contrasting elements.
The jolting cumin opening is often feared as coming across as sweaty and indeed this is no scent for Waspy brokers who want to exude the prolonged latheriness of a morning shower-blast topped with a hundred grooming products à la Bret Easton Ellis heroes. On the contrary, this is very à la française, a scent for men the old style. Not caricatures of manufactured virility, you comprehend, but men who breathe and live and wear T-shits or wife-beater vests with a little humidity on their chest hair; a little overbearing or even narcissitic at times but passionate and sincere nonetheless. The idiosyncratic bitter citrusy elements (bergamot and bitter orange) and the green artemisia recall the comparable treatment Ellena reserved for his lustruous bitter-orange and limes themed Cologne Bigarade and Bigarade Concentrée for the Frédéric Malle line. But the real coup de grace comes in the guise of another exotic spice, cardamom, which makes me envision a slightly cocky chap in pressed chinos enjoying his aromatized inky tea taken in long, sensuous sips while checking the atractive passerbys.
This is Ellena's nod to Bulgari's tea-themed creations he authored previously, Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert (1992) and Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert Extrême (1996). What is left is the ambience of a lasting warmth, not rendered easily by laundry musks but fanned out on dry, luxurious, slightly smoky woods, which manage to not obscure the composition but play upon light and shadow like a black & white photograph of a compelling and charismatic French actor.

The bottle reprises the watch mechanism of Cartier watches' winding section with its cap (You have to pull the little metal holder down to let the sprayer free, just like releasing the security of a watch winder). The glass part looks as if two parts of a whole have been cut and re-assembled at an angle creating a small heart on the shoulders if looked from above, which gives a playful and even eerily girly vibe (and which bodes well with the unisex concept).

Notes for Déclaration by Cartier
Top: bergamot, bitter orange, birchwood
Middle: cardamom, wormwood, juniper wood, artemesia
Bottom: vetiver, oakmoss, cedarwood

Déclaration by Cartier is available at major department stores around the world.

Two flankers exist, both created by Jean Claude Ellena: L'essence de Déclaration (2001), a minimally different version on the original with the addition of rosewood, immortelle, a little amber and a lightening up of the slightly medicinal aspects of the original, encased in the same design bottle in teal glass; and Déclaration Bois Bleu (limited edition in 2001), which is a "fresher" interpretation in a light blue bottle (which to me is usually foreboding of "sporty" things for people not into sports, really). For the latter Chandler Burr commented: "This one is PG-13, but that simply means the cuminic body odor is gone (some will miss it; more will not). Its personality has been smoothed and calmed and de-Frenchified". Personally I'd rather have the original, as I feel the aquatic addition skews it in a direction I am not sure I'd want to stalk.
There is also Déclaration Eau Genereuse (a Limited edition from 2003), of which "generous water" the concept of is reportedly a re-working in Eau de Cologne style.
Cartier went on and produced Roadster for men recently. Which is pretty nice, but no match for the strange allure of Déclaration, despite aiming at roughly the same demographic.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Jean Claude Ellena scents and opinions, Masculine fragrances.

Pics via Couleur parfum and Parfum de pub. Vincent Cassel photographed by Vincent Peters.

Let me Play the Lion by Les Nez: fragrance review

"Scents of dusty trails, of lightly sweetened ochre, of sun-weathered wood. Of silence swept by mild breezes, of skies open like an endless azure cut oozing signs of the coming storm". Thus is how Isabelle Doyen, perfumer for Les Nez (parfums d'auteurs), a niche brand from Klingnau, Switzerland founded by perfume lover René Schifferle, presents Let me Play the Lion (introduced in 2006).

The playful name is inspired by a phrase appearing in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream: "Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say 'Let him roar again, let him roar again" (Act I, Scene 2). And playful indeed is the treatment that Isabelle Doyen, famous for her delicate, graceful watercolours for Annick Goutal, is saving for the composition in question.

Let me play the Lion starts on a spicy, peppery orange warmth, a subdued pomander note pettering out to scents of pure frankincense smoke curling lazily upwards towards a serene sky and of seared woods. If you are familiar with Poivre Piquant or Poivre Samarkande, the spiciness is on the same wavelength. Cedar is prominent among the woods, a touch which should appeal to lovers of Gucci Pour Homme, while the incense is its own recommendation for those belonging to the incense-loving sect. However by no means is this a gothic, dark incense; the note reminds me more of the French curiosity Papier d'Armenie ~little aroma-infused booklets redolent of benzoin which are burnt to make their scent waft~ than the mould-infested crypt. It's sunny and fuzzy. There is also a mossy, dry, almost dusty feeling upon finish, while the overall tone is warm and with an ever so delicate touch of sweetness that makes the composition fit for both sexes. Let me Play the Lion lasted exceedingly well on both my skin and on the blotter with the volume turned down: this lion's roar is vibrating on the lower frequencies!

Let me Play the Lion is available as a 50ml/1.7oz Eau de Toilette, directly from the Les Nez website, through Aus Liebe zum Duft or Luckyscent.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Les Nez fragrances, Incense series.

In the interests of disclosure I got sent a carded sample of each fragrance from Les Nez as part of their sample giveaway upon launching Manoumalia.

Art photography Nick Brandt Lion before Storm, via young gallery photo.
Cat photograph © by Helg

Vetiver Extraordinaire by Frederic Malle: fragrance review

If in vetiver veritas you pledge your allegiance, look no further. The whooping percentage of pure unadulterated vetiver essence in Vétiver Extraordinaire for Editions des Parfums Frédéric Malle goes for indubitably maximum overload for hardcore vetiver fans: you'd be hard-pressed to find one that contains more Haïtain vetiver out there (an alleged 25%) or is less devoid of the oily decorations of other contenstants.
Luca Turin praised perfumer Dominique Ropion's work here by saying that "lead-pencil cedar notes and a touch of lemon [...] act as makeup to hollow the cheeks of perfumery vetiver and give it back some of the striking bone structure of the starting material". I will go further and say that Vétiver Extraordinaire with its raw, wet cobblestones intensity recalls craggy faces of gaunt figures in chain-mail armor, shaded and revealed alternatively by a bright white light before they suddenly strike with a gigantic sword out of a dense dank forest.

The background story on its 2002 creation is caprivating: Frédéric Malle and Dominique Ropion had collaborated at Roure Bertrand Dupont in the past where Ropion had created an unusual exotic woody accord that Malle remembered fondly. When Ropion received a new extraction of vetiver that highlighted the qualitative nuances of the material in an unprecedented way, Malle had the idea to combine it with the old unfinished woody base and thus after extensive twinkering, the finished modern classic emerged. Ropion is well known for his style of overornate, dense, baroque signature, as evidenced in Ysatis or Amarige by Givenchy but also the intriguing Une Fleur de Cassie also for Frédéric Malle and it seems fitting that he achieved the painful intensity of extreme accuracy by addition instead of substraction using "a new essence of Vetiver, stripped of its bitter edge, which he matches with five woody notes to play up the scent's various facets".

Compared with soapy or citrusy vetivers like Vétiver by Guerlain or sweet, licorice-like vetivers such as Vétiver Oriental by Lutens, Vétiver Extraordinaire seems like a challenge: It lacks the light smoky refinement of Chanel's Sycomore, the nutty flou of Vetiver Tonka by Hermès or the spicy sexiness of Tauer's Vetiver Dance, elements which all contribute to easier acceptance. It should therefore be approached only when searching for something bitterly wet yet with a peppery, fresh herbaceous and earthy scent that will draw out a little savagery misleadingly dressed in bohemian clothing. The rooty, cardboard opening emphasizes the more difficult aspects of the genre but the overall character makes it delightfully panseasonal. The lasting power is excellent and the sillage moderate. Perhaps the closest to it is Encre Noire by Lalique which utilizes the same concept minus the foresty mossy tones, so those who have no access to the former, might find a pleasing alternative in the latter suggestion.


Notes for Vetiver Extraordinaire:Bergamot, Bigarade Orange, Pink pepper, Nutmeg, Floralozone*, Haïtain vetyver, Sandalwood, cedarwood, Oak moss, Myrrh, Cashmeran, Musketone**, Tonalide**.

Available in 10ml, 50ml and 100ml spray bottles and as shower gel at Barneys, Les Senteurs, and directly from Frédéric Malle boutiques and their site.

For a comprehensive analysis of vetiver fragrances click Vetiver Series.

*Florazone is a synthetic ozone muguet note patented by IFF with a fresh aldehydic floral profile reminiscent of ocean breezes.
**Musketone and Tonalide are synthesized musk variants.

Photograph of Hugh Laurie by Justin Stephens(Corbis). Bottle pic through F.Malle

Sienna Musk by Sonoma Scent Studio: fragrance review

If like me you find yourself sighing with contentment at the first crisp days of autumn seeing the leaves turn into fiery rusty shades as if passionately burning from within, then you know of the inner exaltation one feels from the intense and clear clarion to action that spices signal. The new Sienna Musk by Sonoma Scent Studio is warm and spicy like you're waking up in a retreat in the mountains on a glorious sunny yet pleasantly cool morning and dynamic as if the world seems full of possibilities: the dies is yet to carpe and the credula postero is extending to far beyond. Recalling the homonymous limonite clay used for producing oil paint pigments, Sienna Musk invites us into an impressionistic painting of luminous yellows and golden browns shot through with the fiery timbre of reddish hues.
Sometimes there is indeed a psychological effect in fragrance and it is acting in an Ayuverdic manner: bringing a lift, taking us into a better place, stirring energy levels and gently pushing our bottom out of the door to get things accomplished. Or perhaps it has a special psychoacoustic resonance: you almost hear the spirited energy in certain fragrances and differentiate them by their approaching vibrations.

Sienna Musk is just like that. Built to be a warm scent that envelops you in the first crisp days of autumn but also well into winter, it recalls culinary spices in a wooden kitchen table ready for the picking and woods that look radiantly red under the rays of the afternoon sun and fill you with optimism and the indulgunt feeling of savouring every day to the maximum. The perfumer, Laurie Erickson, divulges: "I wanted this fragrance to be a cozy, gently gourmand scent featuring warm spices and woods. I added soft mandarin because it works well with the spices and because mandarin and clementine are my favorite citrus oils. One of my main goals with this type of scent is to achieve the right balance of sweetness, which is difficult because that balance varies greatly from person to person. Sienna Musk opens with a burst of sweet spices and mandarin, and then the creamy woods and musks emerge".

Although the notes might remind you of her previous Bois Épicés Légère this fragrance is less sweet and has softer woods and more musk, going for a soft-focus effect. The blending of the spice notes is wonderful in that they are clearly identifiable, yet they also fuse into each other, creating harmony. Ginger is not too pronounced and therefore the scent melds on my finicky skin with no sour undertones. Nutmeg, the dried kernel of Myristica fragrancs also included in the new Secret Obsession, is a wonderful spice full of its own timbre; paired with cardamom their unison gives a slight Middle-Eastern flavour to an essentially New World harmony. Mandarin essential oil (just one member of the varied citrus family and their nuanced scents)is a fresh, uplifting top to middle note which perfumers can extend the longevity of by combining it with other carefully selected oils. It works great with spices, as evidenced here: sunning them, making them open up. The backdrop of smoothness provided by a blend of synthesized musks gives a clean, downy-soft feeling that lasts comfortingly very long extending it into carpe noctem. Sienna Musk makes me physically happy and gives me a much needed boost during these frantically busy days and I am putting a bottle of it on my wishlist as we speak.

Sonoma Scent Studio Sienna Musk is available in 15ml/0.5oz or 30ml/10z Eau de Parfum (great size options low on the commitment) and samples are also sold online.

Notes for Sienna Musk: mandarin, nutmeg, cardamom, ginger, clove, musk, cedar, cypress, sandalwood.

Other recent launches from Sonoma Scent Studio include Wood Violet and Vintage Rose and Laurie intimated that she is working to perfect Gardenia Musk before holiday time (Gardenia Musk will be a demure gardenia for those scared of the loud note: a feminine floral musk with jasmine, soft and creamy gardenia, green notes, subtle peach, silky skin musks, and light cedar).

Available at Sonoma Scent Studio online

Pic of red tree courtesy of hollis.nh.us, bottle via Sonoma Scent Studio.

Roxana Villa of Roxana Illuminated Perfume: Musings on Natural Perfumery, Reviews and Perfume Notes

"Kennst du das Land wo die Zitronen blühen? Im dunklen Laub die Gold-Orangen glühen, ein sanfter Wind vom Blauen Himmel weht,die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht, Kennst du es wohl?" (=Do you know the land where the lemon trees blossom? Among dark leaves the golden oranges glow. A gentle breeze from blue skies drifts. The myrtle is still, and the laurel stands high. Do you know it well?)

It's this famous description of Italy in Goethe's song from Wilhelm Meister "Kennst du das Land" (set to music as opus D.321 by Franz Schubert) that opens the description of Roxana Illuminated Perfume by natural perfumer Roxana Villa. Roxana is of the South (not Italy though) and it shows.
I don't consider it embarassing to admit that I discovered Roxana and her company while searching for paintings and "stumbled" on her blog. What made me pause and pay attention was the original artwork I saw there, which I soon found out was created by Roxana herself, a competent artist in both the aromatic and visual arena, and the illustrator Gregory Scott Spalenka. The illustrations on her site bring to mind the alchemical tradition of the Middle Ages as does the flou artistique imagery by Spalenka evocative of the realms that the fragrances come to evoke. Her method of working was referenced as "creating a painting of a perfume": And then the olfactory promise laid out its trap.

Natural perfumery has known a gigantic resurgence in later years, filling an existing lacuna and answering to two main needs: wanting to go back to the roots of alchemical perfumery after what seemed like a highly technology-driven and marketability-focused long phase, as well as the desire for individual, more esoteric perfumes that will act as a connection with Earth. Of course the latter might bring to mind cliché images of Earth Mother types chanting Om as they chime little bells doing their yoga routine and growing roses that like to be read Milton by the light of the moon, resulting in pot-pouri alloys fit for the headshop. This brings its own fatootsed discourse, but nothing could be further from the truth: many of those people interested in the field are not pursuing it from the aromatherapy or arcane angle at all but from the artistic viewpoint and they are genuinely vuying for beauty, often casting their eyes back to primitivism the way Gaugin did. There is also the further complication of what exactly defines "natural", what methods of extraction are allowed (are isolates and C02 extractions OK? Yes, apparently) and the ad hoc limitations of a natural palette. Not to mention that how to make a natural-based fragrance suitable for all is often a challenge because of the sheer complexity of natural essences, like oakmoss. Yet natural perfumers do try and they enrich the field with their efforts.
Roxana describes her own particular division of natural perfumery as "botanical". As she explained to Sniffapalooza: "Botanical is the term that resonates with what I choose to create, both visually and aromatically. At times I include essences that come from the sea or apis realm, which technically are not botanical in nature, however my palette is comprised of ninety nine percent botanical ingredients. I choose to work with essences that are whole, organic and of vital origin whenever possible. The animal ingredients like civet, ambergris and castoreum, contained in many natural perfumes are not in the fragrances I formulate."

Born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, Roxana grew up in Los Angeles, California. Upon receiving a BFA in Communication Design from Otis Parsons in downtown Los Angeles, Roxana moved to New York and began work as a freelance illustrator in the world of publishing. After the birth of her daughter, she studied Aromatherapy formerly learning the miraculous powers inherent in the plant kingdom. Blending the knowledge of nature with a loving art spirit, Roxana now creates perfumes that reflect a healing modality whilst celebrating the individual. In June of 2007 Roxana was the keynote speaker at the Ojai Lavender Festival and she continues to speak and teach regularly.

Two lines comprise her fragrant bodywork: the Californica series which celebrates the aromatic landscape of the state of California (Q, Vera, Sierra, Chaparral) and the Literarium series, inspired by literary and musical exempla, honoring the fine art of story-telling (Vespertina, Lyra). There is also Aurora, one of her first florals.

All the Roxana Illuminated Perfume scents I sampled share the natural perfumes aesthetic in that they wear close to the skin and have a herbal, non-perfume-y quality about them which is surprisingly comforting sometimes in contrast to the scintilatting but -alas- also often screechy projection of mainstream perfumery. The initial jolt shouldn't fool you into dismissing the accords, because a few minutes later the projection becomes friendly. The two that captured my interest most were Q and Lyra.
It would be natural you might say, if you have followed Perfume Shrine, to see that the earthy woody Q made an impression as it is richly infused with the tannic smell of oak, peppery accents and an ambery-like base reminiscent (to me) of labdanum and patchouli, which is restrained on the sweetness aspect. Q (for Quercus agrifolia) began as a tribute to Beltane (one of the four "fire" festivals in Celt tradition) which auspiciously led to the mighty oak. The feeling is poised between seasons, very fit for spring or autumn, making me want to sit under the deep foliage and let the wind breathe tales of yore into my ear.
Lyra on the other hand is a more vivacious, euphoric affair with the immediacy of flowers, especially the fresh, almost fruity piquancy of what seems like orange blossom, jasmine and tropical ylang ylang singing out of the bottle like alto voices in melodious thirds. Inspired by the brightness of the night-sky asteroid near Vega but also the heroine of the book "The Golden Compass" by Philip Pullman, the floriental Lyra is shining with its own bright veneer. This white floral composition is especially appreciated in a natural blend as there is none of the florist shop headspace of department store fragrances: rather the blossoms exude a deeper, more solid, hefty presence in the accompaniment of a classic warm base of ambery resins and hesperidic overtures. Perhaps the only drawback is the rather limited lasting power, but this is something that can be easily amended by re-application.

The Illuminated Perfume scents are:
AURORA
Notes include: Mandarin, Spice, Egyptian Jasmine, Rose, Amber. (In its 2nd edition)

CHAPARRAL
Comprising essences, accords and tinctures are of plants found in the Chaparral Biome of California.
Notes include: Citrus, Mimosa, Iris Root, Sage, Rhodendron, Pine, Cypress. The 2nd edition is available this Autumn. Portion of the proceeds from each 1/4 oz perfume sale supports The Chaparral Institute.

VERA
Many of the essences are grown and distilled in Ojai, with regional plants utilized in our specially prepared tinctures.
Notes include: Lemon, Lavender, Orange Blossom, Hay, Coastal Sage, Seaweed, Labdanum. (Currently in its 2nd edition).

Q (known as Quercus in a previous incarnation)
Tinctured Oak leaves combine with accords of Citrus, Wood and Resin. (Currently in its 2nd edition) Portion of the proceeds from each 1/4 oz perfume supports The California Oak Foundation.

SIERRA
The most complex of our perfumes, combining chords within accords of Conifer, Wood and Resin. Portion of the proceeds from each 1/4 oz perfume supports TreePeople.

VESPERTINA
Notes include: Orange, Spice, Rose, Jasmine, Patchouli, Distilled Earth, Oud. (Currently in its 1st edition).

LYRA
Notes include: Pink Grapefruit, Egyptian Jasmine, Ylang Ylang, Complex Amber Accord. (The 3rd edition available soon).
The inspiration for Lyra began with a custom perfume created for Roxana's daughter Eve (Evangeline).


To find out more visit the Illuminated Perfume site. You can obtain the same samples I got: sample vial gift pack (set of three 1 gram bottles) $25 or sample vial gift pack (six of three 1 gram bottles) $50. They will come in a little box with the cutest wax seal embossed with a bee, beautifully wrapped.

What is most intriguing for the numerous women in search of their very own individual perfume is the Custom Perfume Portraits service, of which there are two options: Bronze package: $5oo and Platinum package: $1000.

Roxana will be attending the October Snifapalooza Fall Ball in New Yok City, headlining the October 11th luncheon (presenting a fifth Californica surprise scent, the 2nd edition of Chaparal and solid versions of her scents): to participate, contact Karen Adams at kadams@sniffapalooza.com.
For those in California, there will be an Aromatherapy 101 Seminar by Roxana on November 12th in the Santa Monica Massage School. Call 818.763.4912 to register.

Pics of artwork by Greg Spalenka and Roxana Villa provided by Roxana Illuminated Perfume, not to be reprinted wihout permission.

Lancome Magnifique: fragrance review and musings

C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre. (It is magnificent, but it isn't war).
~Pierre Bosquet

Lancôme presented their latest fragrance Magnifique to the press featuring their new ambassador, actress Anne Hathaway, at the Grand Palais in Paris. Talented and pretty stars are nothing new in the Lancôme galaxy and their previous choice of Kate Winslet as new face of Trésor had me enraptured. Hathaway (who had professed a predeliction for Chanel's Chance) is equally lovely in a Snow White suit instead.
Magnifique set out to olfactively interpret the colour red, from the bottle, to the colour scheme of Hathaway's dress, to the admitedly cheddar-heavy US print-ad. Hence to avoid the latter factor, I chose a picture from the upcoming Peter-Lindberg-directed commercial, in which Hathaway poses as a cross between a Nikolaos Gyzis and Edward Hopper model.

Technically, Magnifique is a spicy woody floral, composed by Firmenich perfumers Olivier Cresp and Jacques Cavallier (a collaborating duo on many popular fragrances).
The inspiration, according to Woman's Wear Daily was Nargamotha/cypriol (Cyperus scariosus). Nagarmotha is a plant of the Cyperaceae family, also called Nagar Mustaka, which grows wild in the Madhya Pradesh region of India. Highly-prized for its roots, it is often used in compounding perfumes (especially since it acts as a fixative and is quite economical), in the manufacturing of soaps and incense sticks, as an insect repellent and for medicinal purposes. Associated with milkweed, Indian nard, jatamansi and fekhand, it appears in the spells of Vashikarana: It's said that a man applying it to his forehead is assured of a long series of successful love affairs!
Steam distillation of the tubers of cypriol yields 0.075-0.080% of an essential oil, the principal content of which is cyperine. The smell of nagarmotha is woody, earthy and quite lingering; it mostly conjures a hybrid between cedar, vetiver and patchouli, with fleeting touches of cinnamon and frankincense giving a churchy feel.
Reportedly, Cresp and Cavallier came upon it while in India and liked it so much that they opted to include its essential oil in their Magnifique fragrance. Somehow this is my first stumble: really? Such acclaimed and experienced perfumers were unaware of this old ingredient and just now discovered it?

What is naughty is that there is a perfume product thus named, produced by Innospec:

"A group of fragrance industry experts has given an enthusiastic review to three of Innospec's products- Cypriol, Vetimoss, and Verdirosa. The occasion was the British Society of Perfumery symposium, held last month [July] at Towcester. Lester Bowman, head of Innospec Active Chemicals for Europe, the Middle East and Africa gave a talk to the group, and Peter Whipps, a freelance perfume expert presented the three fragrances. Cypriol, which has a spicy floral fragrance, was presented in a linden blossom room spray and peach base, where it confers the rich, natural aroma of real flowers. As well as offering good odour of its own, Cypriol has a substantial floralising effect on any fragrance".

(Source Innospec)

Cypriol has been rather popular lately: a component of the latest Musc Nomade by Annick Goutal as well as Dzongha by L'artisan (where it is noted as a Papyrus note, Cyperus Papyrus, a member of the same family), Rose Kashmirie by Parfums de Rosine, the newest By Killian Prelude to Love, and Tom Ford for Men ~latter claimed to be the first to use cypriol: "that slightly dirty, sensual, sexy smell...It's not the same as natural musk used to be, but it has a bit of something that some people would think slightly dirty...I think it's warm and sensual." That claim is of course an euphemism, to put it politely: they probably publicized the fact first, since cypriol use goes as far back as Xeryus, a floral woody semi-oriental masculine by Givenchy, developped by Firmenich, in 1986! And if I am not too mistaken in Eau d'Issey pour Homme too in 1994. They're seriously putting us on, it seems!

To revert to Magnifique and how it smells, Lancôme didn't veer off far on their use of their emblematic rose, a note used in most of their fragrances under one guise or another (with the exception of mighty crispy O de Lancome): many perfume lovers report a profound love for Mille et une Roses, while the peachy-rosy Trésor has its own ardent fans.
There is indeed a round rose nuance in Magnifique that veers into fruity-jammy; still, the fragrance is not considerably floral, less so rosy in the flowers-on-the-stem kind. Rather Magnifique starts as a lightly effervescent, spiked-soda sort of fragrance,with a light peppery bite and sweet fruity tonalities defying the listed cumin, as the fragrance does not present any sweaty side at all. Nor is it especially woody, which is a suprise after all the insistence on that aspect, although the nagarmotha essence does make a solid appearence; the woods are pale, pleasantly powdered but ultimately vacant-eyed and unchallenging, ready to smile and strike their best side for the camera (and yes, they do know which is their best one!). If you have watched "Diary of a Princess" with the lovely Hathaway, they're the "after" part, even though the "before" wasn't that wild either...

"The challenge was to work on wood", Cresp claimed nevertheless. Why challenge? Due to the slim number of woody juices aimed at women, since woody notes are traditionally regarded as masculine. There is of course a handful which are excellent and not masculine-smelling at all: the iconic Bois des Iles by Chanel, intent on sandalwood; the notorious Feminité du Bois by Shiseido or Dolce Vita by Dior, both focused on cedar. Then again there are fragrances that pose an androgynous spin such as the chic Sycomore, the latest in Chanel's unisex Les Exclusifs line, fleshing out vetiver.
A similar risk was taken by Lauder's newest feminine, Sensuous, a very similar to Magnifique ~albeit milkier and heavier~ composition which tries to change the demographic to a lower age group than the typical Lauder clientele according to Chandler Burr.
Therefore the challenge seems to be on the business side more than on the olfactory one!

There appear to be segments of other ideas in Magnifique: the sweet patchouli vibe of Attraction, Lancome's own less successful previous release from 2003 (which might illustrate the fact that discarded mods never trully get discarded ~and please consider the discontinued lactonic woody Feu d'Issey by Cavallier there too, will you?), or the fruity woodiness of Gucci by Gucci; maybe even the jammy earthiness of Rabanne's Black XS, as well as Dior's Midnight Poison or Elle by Yves Saint Laurent (latter two notably by the same noses).
Which brings me to an interesting question: what segregates some of the above as "modern chypres" in taxonomy, while Magnifique is a "woody"? The edges blurr in my mind and it seems to me that "woody" has now become just fancy jargon to denote edginess, a sort of fashionista It-term; I predict we will be hearing it often from now on, mark my words.
Furthermore, woody fragrances often cross borders in niche lines, being shared by both sexes, which brings me to my next point: The derivative aspect of mainstream brands trying to replicate niche trends is a manifestation of both the market's oversaturation with offerings that focus on tired vogues (the avalanche of fruity florals and trite gourmand vanillas for women, the conventional citrus woodies and screechy marines for men) as well as the desire to tap into the pool of perfume lovers who scout the micro-niche lines for something different, but cannot always have it readily accessible due to exclusivity.

Magnifique is commendable for turning its back on tired concepts. It can thus be viewed as a step in a good direction, but also as the height of cynicism in fragrance business in view of the above. I will give them the benefit of the doubt for now and hope that more companies in the mainstream sector try to diversify.

Official Notes: mandarin, saffron essence, cumin, cinnamon, Bulgarian Rose essence, absolute of Rose Mai de Grasse, jasmine, Australian Sandalwood essence, Indian nagarmotha, vetiver.

Magnifique comes in 50ml/1.7oz and 75ml/2.4oz of Eau de Parfum concentration (with accompanying Bath Cream and Body Lotion in 200ml containers) and has just launched in the US (initially as an exclusive to Bloomingdale's). It will be available around the world in September through major department stores.

For those able to read French, please visit my good friend S. on Ambre Gris for another view.

Pic of Anne Hathaway courtesy of I'm not Obsessed.Bottle pic courtesy of Fragrantica.

Nocturnal Demons ~Nombre Noire by Shiseido and Lutens: fragrance review

Have you ever lost sleep over the notion of an unattainable ideal? Have you longed and ached for that which you have not even experienced? Are you like the hero in Steppenwolf , a lone soul in search of the sublime revelation of self in the whirlwind of a crumbling civilization? Those questions might ring silly to someone who hasn't known the pang of desire that a beautiful perfume stirs in the soul. And Nombre Noir is one such beautiful but unattainable perfume.

In a revelation of Lachesis I happened upon a little stash of it out of the blue; the elusive Kooh-i-Noor that had been escaping me for long. Or so I thought. Years passed since the last batch of this black glove has been produced and I wonder how much of its initial beauty has been smeared like mascara after a hard night partying. I will probably never know. What I do know is that it was immediately and unknownigly admired by my discerning companion who proclaimed it “beautiful and haunting”. It is just my luck that he always loves the rare and expensive things, I guess. For what is worth I will cherish the little I do have and not break my neck in vain.

Nombre Noir was created in 1981 by nose Jean-Yves Leroy, one of the in-house perfumers for the Japanese brand Shiseido, under the artistic direction of Serge Lutens and Yusui Kumai, aiming to create their first "western" fragrance. Lutens chose an extremely expensive natural osmanthus and a synthetic aromachemical, a big-stock damascone molecule of rosy-woody with prune. In The Emperor of Scent, Turin called it "one of the five great perfumes of the world" and lamented its passing, creating a stampede on Ebay for the elusive golden juice of olfactory paradise.
The perfume became infamous for its breakthrough packaging designed in collaboration among Serge Lutens, Shuichi Ikeda and Masataka Matsubara. "The most unremittingly, sleekly, maniacally luxurious packaging you can imagine: a black octagonal glass Chinese bottle nestled in exquisitely folded black origami of the most sensuous standard."
Despite its high retail price, however, Nombre Noir was losing money because of the packaging according to rumours. And then it disappeared, to be lamentably discontinued shortly thereafter. The real reason seems to be because the high percentage of damascones contained contributed to the perfume being photo-sensitising.

Damascones are potent aromacemicals synthesized in the lab through a difficult procedure that is reflected in their price. Because of that and their diffusive odour profile they are usually used with restraint, except for cases when the perfumer wants to make a point, like in Poison with its exagerration of alpha and beta damascone or indeed in Nombre Noir. Alpha-damascone is rosy floral with a fruity aspect atop a camphorous note and winey nuances while beta-damascone has tobacco shades along with plummy sweetness.
Alas their deterioration upon sunlight is another reason they are usually kept in minute quantities in perfume compositions. Except for Nombre Noir. And that was the death toll on it.

The furore started with Turin's quote and perfume lovers the world over were losing precious sleep over not having experienced this ingenious marvel of nature and lab mechanics. Everyone who followed the perfume community had heard about it but they thought it exiled in distant Peoria. It made seldom appearences on Ebay, sometimes in a faux costume masquerading as the authentic thing, other times its true self in all its brilliance to elevated prices that could be brought back to their rightful culprit: Luca Turin.

But such pathos might have been excused in his case. As he revealed, it was no ordinary encounter:

“The fragrance itself was, and still is, a radical surprise. A perfume, like the timbre of a voice, can say something quite independent of the words actually spoken. What Nombre Noir said was ‘flower’. But the way it said it was an epiphany. The flower at the core of Nombre Noir was half-way between a rose and a violet, but without a trace of the sweetness of either, set instead against an austere, almost saintly back-ground of cigar-box cedar notes. At the same time, it wasn’t dry, and seemed to be glistening with a liquid freshness that made its deep colors glow like a stained-glass window.
The voice of Nombre Noir was that of a child older than its years, at once fresh, husky, modulated and faintly capricious. There was a knowing naivety about it which made me think of Colette’s writing style in her Claudine books. It brought to mind a purple ink to write love letters with, and that wonderful French word farouche, which can mean either shy or fierce or a bit of both”.

~Luca Turin, The Secret of Scent


Years later, the elusive was found again and the spark of this love was rekindled. But his feelings changed from infatuation to reverence upon meeting its true self:

“Nombre Noir was still beautiful, God knows, and I could see what I had loved, a sort of playful fierceness unequalled in fragrance before or since, but I was no longer in thrall. Egged on by the cruelty that makes us dismember what we cannot truly love, I sent it off for analysis. When I read the list of ingredients with their proportions, I felt as Röntgen must have done when he first saw the bones in his wife's hand: no longer the beautiful, but the sublime. At Nombre Noir's core, a quartet of resplendent woody-rosy damascones, synthetics first found in rose oil forty years ago. They break down in sunlight, hence the nastiness. But the secret was a huge slug of hedione, a quiet, unassuming chemical that no-one noticed until Edmond Roudnitska showed with Eau Sauvage (1966) that its magic kiss could put back the dew on dry flowers. Knowledge may be power, but power is not love.”

~Luca Turin, Perfume Notes





To me the fragrance of Nombre Noir is akin to a sonorous sonata that is echoed across a vast hall full of oxidised-metal (so as to look dark) chandeliers. There is the high ceiling of cedary notes, like those in Feminite du Bois but scaled a bit down, that keeps the atmosphere somber, yet the plush of the velvet cushions and the brocade curtains lend a baroque fruitiness to the proceedings, like dried raisins and prunes left out for all to savour, not unlike the hyperbole that is Poison by Dior. The sublime rose accord is laced with a boozy and tea-smokey note, restrained and not old fashioned at all, recalling to mind the unusual treatment that was destined to it in the exlusive Lutens scent Rose de Nuit. I can see how this could be worn like nocturnal ammunition against the crassness of a crumbling civilization.


In an unprecedented show of appreciation for perfume and generosity towards all those who do love scents dearly, I am offering you the chance to sample this elusive scent for free: the sample will be miniscule, alas, because I have little myself and because I predict that I will not be able to score some ever again. However it will allow one lucky fellow to not lose sleep over Nombre Noir anymore. And that my friends is priceless...

I will accept entries in the comments till the end of the month, so if you have friends you love, better be quick about telling them. The winner will be drawn on 1st February and announced shortly thereafter. Let the Moirae cast the dice!

Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site. Nombre Noir ad courtesy of autourdeserge.

Leather Series 1: Definition and Classification

The aroma of leather in scent is akin to smelling a forest of silver birches in the cold ringing air for the first time, inhaling the insides of a pallisander humidor full of “Cohiba” accompanied with a good malt in a tumbler. It's the razor strap of an old-fashioned barbershop and the smell of saddle and leather-bound old books or savouring a post-coital cigarette. Much like the latter it is often hard to resist and a habit difficult to curb.

Whether one is familiar with perfume lingo or not, fragrances rich in the tannic essence of leather are bound to make an impression, be it one of rapture or one of abjection. It is no coincidence that either of those two sentiments usually ensues on people smelling leathery scents: there is seems to be no middle ground.

But let’s begin at the beginning. What is a leather fragrance? Why is it called thus? What does it smell like?

Leather scents pose a problem in taxonomy. Often appearing as a subdivision of the chypré family, leathery scents span the spectrum between feminine and masculine propositions often marrying other accords which might shift the focus into other families (fougère, oriental and chypré). Perhaps the answer to that is to allot them a separate family, as already properly classified (cuir) by the Société Française des Parfumeurs and from thereon subdivide into nuances. To be more specific, SFDP classify leather fragrances as category G, to be divided in true leathers (G1), floral leathers (G2 usually with notes of iris or violet) and tobacco leathers (G3, with smoky or woody notes and blond tobacco).
It is perhaos a great unjustice that leather/cuir has been a bastion of masculine perfumery. Feminine exempla do occur though and with wonderful results of refined taste.

It is worthy of note that leather is one of the oldest notes in perfumery, going back to the tradition of Gantiers et Parfumeurs; a Guild occupying itself with scenting the leather gloves of the aristocracy, in the 16th century, when pleasurably scented essences were used to mask the malodorous aura of newly tanned leather that had the lingering smell of the materials used in curing the hides, such as urine and dung. A profession out of which that of the perfumer arised. On this subject we will revert on a subsequent instalment. Nonetheless the notion of leathery scents stems from those times and is associated with those materials, trying to replicate the aroma of cured hides. Rendering an animalistic aroma that is redolent of Thanatos and inevitably Eros.

However leather perfumes can have several pitch variables, whether naturally or synthetically derived, making the perception of “leather” confusing and variable. From slightly sweet or with a smoked ambience, especially in specimens when the leather note is coupled with that of tobacco, to possessing a tar-like aroma that is especially simpatico with some idiosyncrasies, perfumes of this genre cater to different interpretations of leather. The matter is further complicated by the modern mention of “suede” note, a synthetic slightly salty accord that interprets the imaginary note of a soft, velvety pliable material we are all familiar with through fashion ~especially shoes. And lately fashion has been instrumental in bringing this forgotten family of scents back au courant.

It is often the association with clothing and accessories such as gloves, luxurious handbags and briefcases, chaps/breeches and battered motorcycle jackets that are most often at the back of people’s minds when thinking about a scent that smells of leather.

Upholstery of expensive cars and gentlemen’s clubs with leather Chesterfield sofas help ante up the luxury factor; while libraries with wall to wall shelves of leather-bound books fulfill the dream of every British-novel-loving acolyte admirably and I consider myself one of them. I can't imagine an afternoon more exquisitely spent than immersed in a big armchair leafing through old books on wizardry from Praha or a fat tome by Gibbon.
There is also the fetishist scene that adores leather for its rough/smooth aspect which is mirrored in the scent itself. This is played up into the evocation of several leathery scents that project an aura of the forbidden or the risqué. But liberty, freedom and individualism can also be viewed as expressions of leather, especially when conjuring up images of adventure, motorcycling, aviation and equestrian activities. The simple leather cord suspending a silver charm on the neck of a youth full of vigour is tantamount to a signal to the world at large of an emancipated identity.

The evocation seems to be conditioned though by frequent exposure to leather that has been treated with aromatic essences, taking into account that the whole aromatization business of hides rested exactly on the axis of people not liking the raw smell of leather per se. Perhaps the subconscious evocation of death and decay that is intrinsic to tanneries is at the heart of this aversion.

There is also the matter of differentiation between different animals procuring their hides: cowhide smells quite different than horsehide, for instance.
Many people also report gasoline or petrol impressions emanating from the bottle of a cuir scent: this has to do with methods of production and is not just their cranky nose, apparently, as you might have thought.

Whatever it might consist of, leather has its special magnetic pull: upon opening an Italian handbag of pedigree, you can’t resist burying your nose into the insides and inhaling the smooth, pungent smell of luxury. And that of nostalgia too: the longing of smelling a forgotten furry-trimmed glove on the back seat of a Rolls.


Next instalments on the series will focus on origins of leather scents and the production of leather notes.

Pic of Monica Bellucci courtesy of MonicaBelluccifan.com. Pic of library by queens.cam.ac.uk

Chypre series 6 ~Masculine chypres: does such a thing exist?

In this month of chypres examination and discussion, Perfume Shrine pondered on their origin, their composition, the modern variations, their aesthetics and the relation they have to the zeitgeist (Click on the links to go to respective subject).
It was about time we focused on the question whether there are indeed masculine fragrances that fall into this category of chypre.
The matter arises because most of the frequently mentioned chypre perfumes are feminine, if you think about it. We also attribute traditionally perceived feminine characteristics to them, such as elegance or sartorial sophistication (for some reason this wouldn't resonate with the Italian man, but I digress).
And the subcategories of floral or fruity within chypre often predispose one to think into such terms, although the seasoned perfumed lover is not restricted by such artificial limitations pertaining to gender.

Like we discussed before Chypre relies on the juxtaposition of bergamot and oakmoss, with the traditional inclusion of labdanum and usually of patchouli or vetiver. There is a comparable fragrance family for men, called Fougère (pronounced foozh-AIR), the French word for fern. In reality this is a fantasy accord because ferns have no real scent of their own. Fougère fragrances have fresh herbaceous notes, juxtaposing lavender with oakmoss on a fern-like base, with an element of Coumarin (the smell of freshly mown hay, naturally found in tonka bean, the seed of a West African tree which contains up to 40% of it).
Masculine fragrances have usually gone the route of the fougère when trying to recreate a forest floor impression instead of chypre, perhaps due to the fact that chypre perfumes have been marketed to women, or because they often included floral elements which are traditionally thought of as feminine in the 20th century (albeit not before!).

Classification is rather dubious territory, as there are countless exempla of diversifications according to the source. Open any guide or reference site and you will see the differences leaping to the eye. Therefore the following is only an attempt to examine whether there is any logical base in attributing scents to this or that odorous category.

For starters, the matter of whether leathery scents are a subdivision of chypres (as they do mostly contain the basic accord)or a seperate category termed Leather/Cuir (according to the French Society of Perfumers) is significant. Going by that leathery and oftentimes tobacco scents very often do smell rather more masculine; such as the various Cuir de Russie versions (Chanel, Creed, Piver etc), Miss Balmain and Jolie madame by Balmain, Caron's fierce Yatagan and smoky Tabac Blond , or Bandit by Piguet, lost semi-legend Jules by Dior and Bel Ami by Hèrmes. You will notice that there is a proliferation of both -marketed as- masculine and feminine scents in the above. Should we or shouldn't we classify them under chypre? The matter remains open for discussion.

Another cross-polination happens, involving woody undertones.
An example that would implicate those as well as a whiff of leathery castoreum is Antaeus by Chanel. Decidely butch, pheromonic almost and a powerhouse, it came out in 1981 by in-house perfumer Jacques Polge. It contains the pungency of male sweat and animalistic nuances with honeyed touches and much as I love it, I can't bring myself to don it on my person. The official notes listed (clary sage, lavender, myrrtle, labdanum, patchouli) do not include the classic accord of chypre despite the cool opening on an earthy animalistic background, yet one is hit with such a composition that might remind one of the family.
Shiseido's Basala is another one, as well as the original Armani Pour Homme.
There is some argument that coniferous elements such as pine essence as witnessed in Pino Sylvestre could be included in a subdivision of chypre.

The flip side of this confusion would be the lighter citrusy notes that might blurr the line between hesperidic and chypre. As chypre compositions contain a discernible citrusy pong via the inlusion of Calabrian bergamot, the notion isn't too far off.
Chanel Pour Monsieur could be such an example. Elegant, refined, conceived while Coco Chanel was still alive, it pays tribute to all the famous men she had known. Created in 1951 by Henri Robert, second nose in la maison Chanel after legendary Ernest Beaux, it plays on a sharp and clean citrusy top that includes lemon, petit grain (the essence rendered from the twigs and leaves of the Seville bitter orange tree, Citrus aurantium) and neroli (the distilled essence of the flowers). It then segues to spicy notes of cardamon and white pepper that invite you closer, only to end on a whiff of cedar and vetiver that retains freshness and discretion for the wearer. Perhaps citrus-aromatic would be a closer categorisation.

And there are various decidedly masculine propositions that reek of the pungency of patchouli and vetiver, notes that are so much used for the modern chypres of the last few years.

Givenchy Gentleman, which is sometimes described as a woody oriental, is a beast of a patchouli perfume that remains untamed even though its name would suggest hand kisses and opening doors for you. He does, but then ravages you, ripping your bra off.
The original Aramis for Men could be another case in point, especially given -again!- the suave name that would belie its intentions that open on a crisp note of artemisia and bergamot. It has of course intense woodiness too, thanks to sandal, but with the elements of a classic chypre in place as well. Coupled with a pinstripe suit it goes out to the City to trade stocks and in the lunch break goes off for supposedly a gym session that is in reality an illicit tryst.
Why do such powerful and assertive masculine fragrances are given names that imply a more gentle approach? This could be the subject of another post...


For the time being, please offer your suggestions on masculine chypres and the reason why you classify them thus.

Picsfrom parfumsdepub

New fragrance line: Nasomatto Perfumes reviews

As you might have known if you have been reading PerfumeShrine long enough, this is a blog that aims to pose questions and make you ponder as much as anything. No ready "recipes" or flowery purple prose for the sake of it. So whenever we test something new and considered groundbreaking it is taken with several shakers of salt and what it conveys is really thought out before passing judgement.
As I elaborated on my previous post, much of the perfume world is revolving round the gimmick and the "perceived" value rather than the core definition of quality. So it is with these factors in mind that the Nasomatto line was being evaluated, for the first time in its entirety on any perfume blog, to the best of my knowledge.

Gimmick is too often the last refuge of brilliant advertisers and marketeers who have stumbled upon the block of too many fragrances out there and all competing for the same crowd. The niche world is by definition a smaller audience and to grab its attention some greater effort is required it seems.
For example what line could be more gimmicky that the rather new État Libre d'Orange? With the royally satiric tag line "Perfume is dead, long live perfume!" and with scent names such as Éloge du Traitre (=Praise of a Traitor), Nombrile Immense (=big belly button), the borderline porn smell of Sécretions magnifiques or the more outré still names of Putain de palaces (=palace whore) and Don't get me wrong baby, I don't swallow , the house that is using three Givaudan perfumers is bent on eliciting attention through their ox-feller presentation.

In contrast, Nasomatto Perfumes line is fairly subdued. Of course the manifesto is -predictably- wishing to break the mould and make for distinguished wearers, as you can attest by this:

I take advantage of what you always said about me
I take advantage of your sexual essence
I take advantage of drugs and food
I take advantage of my olfactive memory and trips
I take advantage of mistakes
I take advantage from the Z1
I take advantage of the best raw materials
I give advantage to people longing to distinguish themselves

The masterminds are both italian, Allesandro and Arturetto, who had been students in Germany at the H&R company for courses in "medieval" perfumery. We're told that Allesandro was taught by Arturetto and then went on to create fragrances for designers such as Romeo Gigli, Versace, Valentino, Helmut Lang and Fendi, finally locating in Amsterdam and re-uniting with Arturetto to launch his private vision: a line of his own niche perfumes, called Nassomato.

The line, comprised of 5 fragrances, is characterised by its heavy, fun, loud and individual style that isn't afraid to take risks and produce potent stuff. For what it's worth I think that there is a thin line between heavy and too heavy. And although much of the scented products of today fall into the inspid, too light, too fleeting camp which might generate continual re-spritzing and thus elevated consumption per ml, it does leave the consumer with a sense of wasting money down the drain, as ultimately they complain about the lack of sillage and staying power of scents compared to older classics. The tenacity of modern perfumes is usually achieved through synthetic enhancers and those leave something to be desired for as invariably the bases used are predictable and not as rich and nuanced as those of yore. In Nasomatto, the staying power is quite good for most of the fragrances in the line and it has to do with the high concentration of the juice as well: extrait de parfum in bottles capped with a square arhictectural wooden cap.
What is also noteworthy is that contrary to most lines, they absolutely do not issue notes for their perfumes, which can be a double-ended sword: good, because it leaves the consumer judge for what he/she smells per se and not what is led to believe is in there; and bad because -let's face it- so much of the niche fragrance buying is happening online, unsniffed, by people who wouldn't have access to such perfumes otherwise, who yet love being individual and so often it is such a disappointing experience to proceed in such a way...

So in the interests of helping along, here is what PerfumeShrine thought of each and every one of them:

Duro: Per the company blurb "the fragrance aims to enhance all the manifestations of male strength". Duro means strong and durable in italian and indeed this masculine scent with guts aims to hit bull's eye and not veer off the course for a second. It is bracing, leathery, with a character of strong affinities. I seem to detect patchouli and hints of grassy coffee in there which make for a dry and potent mix. It demands a wearer with some personality to carry it off, yet I can see that it is very modern and not something that could have been issued 2 or 3 decades before. It does not develop too much retaining the tonalities of the starting point well into the drydown.

Hindu Grass: This -to my nose- unisex scent "aims to breathe the belief in universal peace and love. It is the result of a quest for the warm affection of humanity". Of course it might require much more for universal peace and love, yet the fragrance blends what seems to be a very hippy-ish amount of herbs and grasses that smell dry, pleasant and lightly cooling, fit for any season. There is a hint of mint to my nose and it intermingles with other herbal notes and possibly some ionones to instill a sense of playful, serene walks in woods or grassy knolls, reading a book in the shade, cooling off with a glass of green tea.

Narcotic Venus: As its name suggests this is patently feminine, "the result of a quest for the overwhelming addictive intensity of female sexual power" and as one might surmiss is based on that most narcotic and potent flower of them all: tuberose. It marries to some other floral essences of a white nature which are not discernible per se and the sillage is loud and strong for those who have Fracas and Carnal Flower affinities and proclaiments. Venus it is and at its most predatory, on top. I suggest you proceed with caution, but if it fits it can be a great weapon in your arsenal.

Absinth: "The fragrance aims to evoke degrees of hysteria. It is the result of a quest to stimulate irresponsible behaviour" is what the company tells us. And frankly I cannot see why this would produce anything like hysteria, as it is a wonderful fragrance full of bittersweet notes of herbs, earthy pungent vetiver, possibly angelica or wormwood and some sweet element of vanillic florancy in there that accounts for the most delectable semi-gourmand effect possible. If this is how a modern aromatic gourmand should be made, then I'm all for it. It proved to be a favourite from the line, although I obviously liked a couple more and I can see how men and women alike who go for something individual would go for it. It lasts well, has a more subtle effect upon putting it on and then develops nicely and warm to the skin retaining its properties for a long long time. A winner!

Silver Musk: "The fragrance aims to evoke superhero magnetism. It is the result of a quest for mercurial liquid love sensation". Or so they say. For once more I am going to dispute part of the advertorial and say that this is a lovable very approachable clean musk with egyptian tendencies that on my skin was a bit close to the wonderful, elusive and very expensive Narciso Musk for her oil by Narciso Rodriguez, although not as gorgeous. They both seem to utilise the same synthesized musks that account for a cuddly, clean, erotic undertow that makes people approach a little closer and lean over wondering what is that magical spell that has gotten them entangled in your web. If you like that sort of ambience, you couldn't go wrong with Silver Musk. Possibly the easiest in the bunch and with good lasting power.

The company has their own site: click for the official Nasomatto site.
The line is available at First in Fragrance/Aus liebe zum Duft for now. Click here to sample/order. Each Nasomatto sample costs 4 euros and you can order a minimum of 15 euros just for samples on the FIF site.

They come in Extrait de Parfum in 30ml/1oz for 90 euros each.


And for those who comment on this post, we have proclaimed a little LUCKY DRAW!. Three SAMPLES of our choosing to go to them FREE of charge, so they can experience for themselves the new Nasomatto line. Just post a comment that you want to enter the lucky draw and you're in.
I will notify you about the lucky winner very soon.

Pic of bottle comes from First in Fragrance. Absinth glass pic courtesy of Wikipedia.

Beautiful Love: new from Lauder

With the tagline “a perfume to celebrate the love that you share”, Esteé Lauder is trying to catch the Valentine’s Day shoppers this year with its latest interpretation of one of her established perfumes, the intensely floral Beautiful.

Beautiful has always been presented as a wedding perfume, sometimes set to beauties such as gorgeous Paulina Porizkova, other times accompanying less gorgeous Elizabeth Hurley. It has proven to be a bestseller for ladies who want a romantic touch and the images of the advertising have proved very receptive from males about to purchase fragrance for their wives and fiancées, according to Lauder reports.
The fragrance came out originally in 1986 and it purportedly contained over 200 ingredients that took 4 years to find their proper place in the “perfect” formula that elicited the comment “beautiful!” upon being smelled by friends of Mrs.Lauder sampling it. So the name stuck. Or so the legend goes…
Personally I have always found Beautiful a little (OK, a lot) over the top in its big, bright, groaning with white florals (tuberose, jasmine, orange flower, lily of the valley) composition and although it reacted well on my skin on various testings, I never gave it the benefit of a doubt, never purchasing a bottle for myself.

Beautiful Love comes exactly 20 years after its big sister as the prodigy to follow in the successful steps of the revered relative.
This marketing technique of flankers, companion perfumes to already established ones bearing a variation on the original’s name has worked well for Lauder. With the exception of White Linen Breeze, all the others worked well and proved commercially viable and even successful. Around the time the company first signed with Elizabeth Hurley there was an attempt to modernize the classic soapy aldehydic White Linen, boosting it with marine notes and making it less potent and abstract. The experiment went well for a while, as it was the 90s and marine frags were de riguer. Lauder had no other marine in its stable. Soon however it became extinct, as Pleasures got launched to a staggering success, bringing back the vogue for “clean” floral smells.
Then came Garden of Pleasures, around 1999-2000, a limited edition trio of scents each highlighting one specific floral note in the original Pleasures – therefore there was Moon Lily (a glorious floriental whose passing I lament), Peony and Lilac. Being limited editions to coincide with the launch of an homonymous makeup line, they soon disappeared. I still to this day regret I did not stock up on Moon Lily. It was the best of the lot….
The next logical step was Pleasures Intense (a sharper, more intense floral) and soon after Pleasures Exotic for summer, with the addition of tropical fruits and citrus.

When Tom Ford came on wheel, he had the brilliant idea of revolutionizing the classic of the house: Youth Dew. A classic that smelled anything but what its name suggested. As mr.Ford is first and foremost a great marketer he instantly knew that he had to keep the sensual notes, but lighten the load, freshen up the image and inject sexiness in both the smell and the image. Youth Dew Amber Nude was the final result and it was pleasurable enough to re-ignite interest in the Lauder brand in young people’s minds (where the house did not register as hip). His Azurée oil interpretation last summer was also quite successful.
Pure White Linen, fronted by Gwyneth Paltrow, was the house’s latest effort to capitalize on another classic name, especially since White Linen Breeze had long ago disappeared from shelves. The final product is quite decent and I say that straight faced. It’s a likeable clean smell for instances when you don’t want to bother too much with what you wear, you just want to smell carefree and nice. Even the bombastically floral Beyond Paradise came to meet a little cousin by the name Beyond Paradise Blue, which I haven't tested yet.
Beautiful had already experienced a little watering down when the mood for lighter scents became the norm with Beautiful Sheer, one of the formulations that are supposed to be used during the humid season when the original version would seem suffocating.

Beautiful Love is the newest in that long string of “flankers” exposing a modern, creamier and more sensuous side of the Beautiful floral fragrance.
Karyn Khoury, Senior Vice President, Corporate Fragrance Development Worldwide, Estée Lauder Companies describes it as having less intense green notes and a greater emphasis on the classic’s white floral elements, ‘Beautiful Love captures the emotional depth of shared love’ she is quoted to say.
The official notes according to Osmoz are:

Top note : Pomelo, Cantaloupe, Mango,Pink Pepper, Freesia,Ivy
Middle note : Tiare, Tuberose, Jasmine,Other Flower, Black Violet
Base note : White Orris,, Whipped Cream, Tonka Bean, Vetiver, Cashmeran,Other Woods

The classification is woody musky floral, which is not sounding bad at all.
The effect is much lighter in feeling and less perfumey, with the fruit notes opening a tart impromptu going on to softer, creamy florals and a velvety base.
Packaged in a bottle that stays close to the feminine lines of the fluid crystal of the original Beautiful one, it features a pink-gold cap.
It comes in eau de parfum strength in bottles of 30ml/1oz, 75ml//2.5oz and 100ml/3.4oz.

Pic of bottle from Osmoz, pic of Beautiful ad courtesy of Parfum de pub.