Showing posts sorted by relevance for query chanel exclusifs review. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query chanel exclusifs review. Sort by date Show all posts

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Coromandel from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review



In the whole line of Les Exclusifs, one scent stands as trully lasting and sillage worthy. It's Coromandel, a dry ambery oriental advertised as "an oriental fragrance using a tree resin called benzoin, which has vanilla-like properties" inspired by the chinese lacquered panels that were abundant in Chanel's apartment, Coromandel denoting the company producing them and not the style of the panels.
The baroque appartment of Gabrielle/Coco Chanel on Rue Cambon, although not her place of actual abode (she used to stay at the homonymous suite at the Ritz in Paris), served as a background drop of her innermost luxury hedonist. And it was the basis of inspiration for another one of Jacques Polge's perfumes, Coco original, a spicy oriental, back in 1984. In it indeed a very opulent composition is evoking odalisques spread on leather sofas, weighted down by copious amounts of bronze and antique gold jewels.

Coromandel is described as "not innocent", as it is "weighted by frankincense" and "contains a hint of the heavier spices of the East".
Although I am a spicy oriental type, this sounded a bit like a rehash of Coco, of which for better or worse I a not a great fan and so before sampling I was almost certain that it would be too much for me, reserving instead my expectations for no.18. It soon proved that I was mistaken.
The initial impression is that of a citrusy, orange-like pipe tobacco mix rolled in powder, much like the one encountered upon meeting that vixen little scent called Fifi by lingerie designer Fifi Chachnil or a slightly less milky Fumerie Turque. In fact it could very well be a similar idea to that explored by the newer Burberry London for men.
Perhaps the orange impression derives from the inclusion of frankincense, a resin that sometimes gives off a sweet citric tang while burning.
A sweet lush note throughout is echoing subtly like vanilla pods immersed in fruity liquor and it opens up and expands on the wings of aged patchouli, mellow, soft, sweet and inviting. It would seem like the most glorious thing, if it were not for it being a little derivative of their Allure Sensuelle with a touch of Borneo by Serge Lutens and Prada thrown in for good measure. The influence Angel has had on the market in general is astounding to behold! Never mind that my favourite patchouli ever is Film Noir by Ayala Moriel.
Yet where Borneo is an inconoclastic dark patchouli laced with dark roasted coffee and Prada is an insolent single-minded young rebel that wants to shock her conservative environment in a relatively safe way, much like Muicia herself liked to do, Allure Sensuelle and consequently Coromandel do not dare push the envelope even in playful jest. They are not terribly innovative, although between the two Coromandel is much more complex and alluring.

Luckily, the pervading dryness along with just a touch of frankincense for a sense of mystery, not showcasing amber in any great degree all the while, provides a great balance to the sweeter vanilla elements and makes the whole not puff up in blue clouds of smoke, but stay the night on warm skin and well used sheets.
Sexy, yet not terribly imaginative. A cinnabar-hued brocade jacket, upper button undone with black camelia Chanel earrings. C'est ça!


Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

Monday, July 9, 2007

A scent for the famous on their wedding day?


Perfume Shrine in its toddler steps started as a modest guide of what celebrity prefers which scent. It was early days and compiling a list had been going on for years. Although it was meant as fun, it was also a great marketing research tool, since audiences are usually mesmerised by what the rich and famous opt for. The list got expanded into a website, the website into a perfume blog and the rest is history...for what it's worth.

So seeing that Eva Longoria, 32, the sexy brunette Latina of the Desperate Housewives Tv show stardom got married in Paris the other day to her sweetheart NBA champion Tony Parker, the question of what she opted for the big day rose once again.
It's not unusual for a bride to be to ponder on which scent to pick for the grand day among other concerns. After all, smell has such a way of imprinting itself in out mind like the fingerprint of a guilty party, that it is only natural we want the guilt to be as pleasurable as possible.

The sartorial choice was a double affair: since french law requires a civil ceremony by the french mayor before the religious one, the bride opted for two dresses on the two seperate occasions ~ a Chanel mini dress in pink and a white short dress.

According to my sources she is a white floral girl who loves her Kai and her Fleurs d'oranger and indeed I could picture her in those admirably, suiting her sexy persona and her lush features with their fresh yet soft and inviting smell.
She is also reputedly tied to the Desperate Wives perfume project, Forbidden Fruit, along with the other actresses who appear on the show (Terri Hatcher, Marcia Cross, Felicity hoffman, and Nicolette Sheridan), but somehow this strikes me as highly improbable. Think about it: do you share your fragrance with just about all the people you work with? Even if they are completely different types of people? Even if that perfume is free and inexhaustible because... hey, your pretty face is fronting it?
Sounds like marketing to me...And not that successful either.
Forbidden Fruit is reportedly not as potently fruity as surmised by the name, but rather veers into fruity floriental nuances containing notes of Rome apples, orange blossom, peach, wisteria, jasmine, ylang-ylang, passion lily, cedarwood, sandalwood, vanilla and tonka bean. The notes do denote an intense floral presence.

However, like I said, I envision her in something more unique and in tune with her personality even if her lunch at Coco Chanel 's own old private studio which is quite a rare occassion not too many have participated in before would point to a Chanel perfume freebie: maybe one of the new Les Exclusifs?
(full reviews and an opinion article click here: Eau de Cologne, no.18 , 31 Rue Cambon review, Coromandel, Bel Respiro and 28 la Pausa).

I'd love to have been able to catch a whiff of what she chose in any case. Would you? And what do you imagine would be the perfect choice for her Parisian wedding? Or for any wedding, come to think of it?



Pic of Eva Longoria courtesy of Thesuperficial.com
Kai bottle pic courtesy of sporkfashion.com

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Eau de Cologne from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

Eau de Cologne from Chanel is just what the doctor prescribed for those lazy, hot summer days when you don't have the mental energy to think straight and pick a scent that won't clash with the humidity and the heat.

And it is now as good a time as any to dispel the myths around this type of scent named Eau de Cologne. Usually it is what men in the United States say they use. This is actually a tradition that has to do with avoiding the unpleasant connotations of the term Eau de toilette and not an accurate rendition of what they put exactly on their skin. Too many times you will hear men saying that and in fact what they use is Eau de toilette. The notion of why this is so undelicate a concept to grasp dawned on me after a discussion on the correct etiquette on asking to use a toilet in someone's house. I had been told that it's customary to say "bathroom" even if you're not going to actually bathe in there. Suffice to say that this particular delicasy of phrase has escaped my more sturdy european ears and we do use the term toilet aplenty. However faire la toilette is also the french term for preening and in that regard Eau de toilette fits in really well, as it is part of the ritual (hence the name of course).

Another type of mix up happens because Eau de Cologne is not just a concentration of a scent at the counter of any fragrance line, but also a special type of scent recipe, harking back to 1370 and the first alcoholic perfumed mix prepared for the Queen Elizabeth of Hungary. This got named Hungary Water and is still around today. However it took it a couple of centuries more, to become the Eau de Cologne that became famous in 1792 under the name 4711 Echt Kolnisch Wasser, after the homonymous town in Germany (Koln/Cologne) where it was produced. The house that produced it is called Muelhens (although now 4711 is owned by Wella), the name comes from the original address of the Muelhens shop and they claimed they got the recipe from a Carthusian monk nammed Farina who gave this as a wedding gift to William Muelhens. Its first name was "aqua mirabilis" (water of miracles) due to its stimulating, antibacterial properties that warded off disease and acted as a tonic. A different story attribues the origins to Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella in Florence (which was founded in 1612) where the monks manufactured the Aqua della Regina (water of the queen), made for Catherine de Medici who upon coming to Paris inaugurated the tradition of perfumery to the french capital. There suppossedly the recipe was copied by Paul Feminis and the vogue for eaux de cologne flourished well into the coming years. [You can read the history of Eau de Cologne on this link. ]

The classic recipe of Eau de Cologne includes bright citrusy notes of bergamot, petitgrain (the essence from the stems of the bitter orange tree) along with neroli and some fruit rind's expressed oil (such as lemon or orange), garlanded with herbs such as lavender and rosemary, the odd floral note (rose for instance, as is the case in 4711) and a light underpinning of a more sturdy base note that would anchor the scent so it doesn't evaporate into thin air too soon.

In Chanel's case the given notes for its new Eau de Cologne are:
neroli, bergamot, citrus, musk, vetiver.

Indeed as one sprays the succulent juice on the skin a burst of bright, sunny, slightly bitter citrus fruits explodes and envelops the wearer in a sunny vignette of times gone by. Like people dressed in striped maillots preparing for a swim in a cosmopolitan beach, eau de cologne always brings to my mind a memory of lazy languid summer days of yore when parents and granparents started for the beach with panache and straightforward style. Think those classic Breton matelots and you're there. Soon the whole sweetens and obtains a rounder neroli and musky ambience that is supported by a light yet sensual backdrop. It does not last too long alas, which is of course the nature of such fleeting things, like a quick dip in the refreshing blue waters, but it does provide so much enjoyment while it does.
The gigantic 400ml bottle is prefectly made for lavishing this on with reckless abandon.

Pic by Nick Moschos courtesy of eikastikon.gr

Saturday, January 7, 2006

Articles in the Press focusing on scent

This is a reference index of articles concerning smell appearing in the press which I have amassed through various sources. Parentheses are mine giving the focus of the article.


General Interest

A message in a bottle (perfume packaging) from Newsweek
A pungent puzzle (how language lacks scent vocabulary) from The Globe and Mail
Aveda, the problem with common scents (perfumer Ko-Ichi Shiozawa's quest for organic materials) in Science Daily
Bacteria Manage Perfume Oil Production From Grass (how bacteria aid in the production of vetiver oil) from Science Daily.
Beauty: the new weight of scent (trend towards solids) from Newsweek
Body Odors Individual as Fingerprints (60-Second Science podcast explaining how our natural smell is detectable underneath it all) at Scientific American.
Bottling your own personal smell (custom-made perfume and those who do it) from Newsweek
Catherine Deneuve and scent (she reveals her tastes) from Times Online
Common Scents (a new book tells you why sniffing pastries can make you nicer) from Newsweek Could perfume be the recession antidote? (a little pick-me up in hard times) from Times Online
Food and Flavour (how the two combine) from Foodarts
Giacomo's Scent (the celebrity scent of a horse!) from Newsweek
Italian scents (homage to Italian perfumery) from Osmoz
Let us spray (the animalic and dirty smells in perfume) from the Guardian
London shopping for perfume (the seven places you shouldn't miss) from the Guardian
Love Sskews your sense of smell from the New Scientist
Madagascar scents (the smells of Nosy Be island on the north of Madagascar) from MSNBC
Mysterious sweet smell from 2005 returns to Manhattan (the smell of maple suryp from a nearby company) from NY Times
Natural perfumery (natural perfumes and the Anya McCoy enterprise) from eworldwire
New scents crowd thriving perfume field (the super-exclusive one-off scents from L'artisan) from the International Herald Tribune.
Perfume: Start making scents (the focus on perfumes is escalating) from Newsweek
Return to Luxury from Times Online
Samurai (Home fragrances) on the NY Times
Scents and Personalities (an explanation of what your perfume says for you by Marian Bendeth, fragrance expert) from Lifewise Beauty
Scentimental France (Marian Bendeth explains her memories and impressions) from Basenotes
Scent of a man (Women rate masculine fragrances)in the Times Online
Scents of the city (Grasse perfume industry) from Newsweek
Smells Good (Turin and Sanchez pick women's perfumes from the holidays 2008) from Times Online
Smelly Masterpieces (a review of Perfumes, the Guide, giving a glimpse to the bean counters in Zurich and Paris) from Times Online
Solid scents that can last (on the trend of solids) from Newsweek
Taking a front seat (the case of a woman becoming a professional driver and how people respond to her perfume) from Newsweek
The Gift I never Want (why perfume giving isn't always a good idea) from the Atlanta Journal Constitution
The Good Life (Grasse history and operations today) from Newsweek
The Scent of a man (fragrance alters the way we view ourselves and thus how we are perceived) from The Economist
The Smell of Fear is Real (how it's not a myth according to scientists) from the Guardian
To bee or not to bee (bee repellants and scents affecting them) from Newsweek
Travel: Tours with a slice of sugar and spice (scented travelling guide) from Newsweek
Unisex Fragrances from the Times Online
Vintage fragrances en vogue from the Financial Times
Which Chanel perfume should you wear? (Marian Bendeth tackles Les Exclusifs) from Canadian Living
World Perfumery Congress Cannes from Time Magazine

Historical

Chanel and Rallet from Perfumer & Flavorist magazine
Francois Coty from the New Yorker archives (article from 1930)
Fragrance of the Pharaohs (Nenufar and the collection by David Pybus) from Newsweek
Joan of Arc and the forgeries of her relics (science debunks the forgery when Patou and Guerlain noses detect vanillin) from Lifestyle Extra UK
Inconvenient woman (on Mary Magdalene) from Newsweek
Questions in Qumran (archaeological discoveries regarding the ascetic Esenes Jews) from Newsweek
Perfume vials from the time of Jesus unearthed from MSNBC
Staying in the Saddle (the Hermes house history) from Newsweek
Terrasanta (on discovering terracotta pots with ancient ungunts from 1stcentury AD)-in Italian
Woman's best friend (the story of Lalique) from Newsweek

Interviews
Catherine Deneueve from Times Online
François Demachy (Senior Vice President for Olfactive Development at Louis Vuitton Moët Hennessy) talks to ShinyGloss about the early days.
Jean Claude Ellena : Conjuring Paradise, from LA Times
Jacques Polge (on Chanel archives and re-issues) from the Living Scotsman
Roja Dove (on luxury and forgotten scents) from the Living Scotsman
Serge Lutens: l'etat de l'art from Osmoz
Victoria Beckham ("not sure everyone would want to smell like me") from Bang/Sweden.real.com

Miscellaneous
An alluring Perfume (on the film Perfume the story of a murderer) from Newsweek
Can certain hairstyles and smells make a headache worse? from Newsweek
Christian Lacroix brand takeover from Newsweek
Franken-tomato (genetically manipulated tomato exhibit different scent) from Newsweek
French company denied strawberry trademark from BBC
It's all in the bottle (the spirits business influenced by the perfume business) from Newsweek
Highlights and exclusives (luxury market watch) from Newsweek
Luxury for a little less (ideas in the middle of recession) from Newsweek
Organic Art Spoils the Pleasure of Patrons (artist Jan Fabre's installation at the exhibit COLLECTIE XXIII, which runs through 4/1 at the MuHKA.be museum in Antwerp) from the Washington Post
Tip sheet (traveling by rail allows you to engulf your senses) from Newswek
The sweet smell of success (Lisa Price, founder of Carol's Daughter) from Newsweek
Truly, madly, deeply (the Theresa Duncan case, author, cinematographer and blogger) from Newsweek
What does the moon smell like? (Apollo 16 pilots reveal) from Boing Boing.Net

Friday, May 29, 2009

Les Colognes Hermes ~Eau de Gentiane Blanche, Eau de Pamplemousse Rose: fragrance reviews

One day I might stop raving about the vision and artistry of Jean Claude Ellena, but not today. His new creations for the house of Hermès depart from the classical Eau de Cologne structure into drier and more mineral arpeggios, the melodies of his two new compositions humming on my skin like Pan-pipes made of an outer-space-born hybrid.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche and Eau de Pamplemousse Rose join longstanding bestseller Eau d’Orange Verte (composed by Françoise Caron, its 30th anniversary this spring) for the new collection of unisex Eaux de cologne from Hermès, expected to be joined by more in the coming seasons. In a long discussion with Jean Claude he confided his and the House's desire to focus on a renovation of the Cologne genre which "needs a lot of love", as both a hark back to traditional perfumery and a modern choice of indulgent refreshment in the classic Mediterranean style.
The new compositions are both wonderfully pleasurable, but it's one of them which has literally swept me off my feet and regular readers of Perfume Shrine will not be hard-pressed to tell which one!

Eau de Pamplemousse Rose (translated as 'grapefuit & rose' and not 'pink grapefruit', as insistited upon by Ellena himself in his interview to us) is the more neoclassical of the two, denoting a citrusy facet at the beginning which echoes his other grapefuit compositions; namely In Love Again for Yves Saint Laurent and Rose Ikebana for Hermessences. However the new formula is different than the previous tries: If I were to imagine this as a ladder to absraction, I'd say that from the hologram of bitter-sweet grapefruit of the former and the delicate jewelled sparkle of the latter, the new composition is seen through the beam of a laser-jet printer which merges pixels in high resolution on a high-weight paper that seems powdered out of the package.
Compared with the other emblematic grapefuit, that of Guerlain's Pamplelune, one is stunned by the different approach of the two styles: Pamplelune is executed in a magnificently proficient style that manages to orientalise the sulphurous note in the arms of patchouli which warms and fans out the naturally sweet-smelling tonalities of the fruit. In Eau de Pamplemousse Rose the foot is firmly set on the West and the approach is leaner, tangier and less love-or-hate. A molecule patented by the house of Firmenich, called Rhubofix, possessing fresh "green rhubarb", woody-spicy, and floral facets combines with the rose scent, merging in a slightly ~and very pleasantly~ bitter composition which transcends the cologne genre. It would be a disillusionment to approach this if you're in search for rose, however, as it is only a mere whisper and neither is vetiver immediately apparent. Already being the proud owner of both In Love Again and Rose Ikebana, as well as Kelly Calèche which sports a little wink of this element too, as part of my fragrance collection, I am not certain whether I will sprint to get a bottle of the latest; but it's really well done and worth investing for the summer months if you have a dent in the fresh compartment in your fragrance wardrobe.

Eau de Pamplemousse Rose includes the following notes: lemon, grapefruit, rose, Rhubofix, vetiver.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche, on the other hand, is an adorable bone-dry masterpiece of novelty which eschews the traditional structure of Eau de Cologne much like Ellena's Vanille Galante took over the vanilla bandwagon; and thus I am earnestly putting a big bottle of it on my wishlist. Currently Eaux seem to be everywhere from Dior's Escale de Pondichéry, Miss Dior Cherie L'Eau and J'adore L'Eau Cologne Florale (review coming up) to Cristalle Eau Verte (ditto) and the instigator of it all Eau de Cologne by Chanel. Still Hermès and Ellena, much like Sinatra (or Sid Vicious, take your pick) "did it their (own) way" and the magnificently androgynous and distinct result is highly wearable as well.

Contrary to Robin of NST I do not peg Eau de Gentiane Blanche as a too clean scent, although it's undoubtedly fresh; perhaps an allusion to Alpine snowscapes where gentian grows abundantly. Yet, smell this take on freshness and you know you've been under azure skies in the early hours of morning in Göreme in the Cappadocia region of Turkey, all mineral landscape around, no plants, no water, nothing but dry white dust and rock as far as the eye can see. The huge rock houses of Cappadocia, underground as well as upperground, present the apotheosis of past meets future: one cannot distinguish whether they're in one of the prehistoric shots of "2001 A Space Odyssey" or in one of the first episode of "Star Wars". The cool feeling imparted by Eau de Gentiane Blanche reminded me of that experience along with the caves at the famous nude beach of Matala on the island of Crete: cool solace from the scorching sun.

Upon testing Eau de Gentiane Blanche on my skin, I was struck by one sledgehammering impression: This is how I wanted Chanel Les Exclusifs No.18 to smell like on me!! The touch of ambrette seed in the Chanel is here magnified, the sophisticated bitter character bringing it full circle along with the vegetal, earthy-powdery halo or iris instead of the rose of No.18 and I seem to detect some of his signature Iso-E Super.
Jean Claude Ellena also extolled the innovation of using gentian absolute, here featured for the first time in a fragrance. This, apart from the stylistical difference, might explain the striking difference with Guerlain's Aqua Allegoria Gentiana, another fragrance pegged on the gentian plant. In the latter nevertheless the pear aroma-chemical along with the sweeter nuances of lime, limette and vanilla conspire to give a fresh, yet slightly sweet composition (not quite in the patiserrie Guerlain later style, thankfully) whereas in Eau de Gentiane Blanche the dryness is the undoubted seal of sophistication.

Eau de Gentiane Blanche includes notes of white musk, gentian, iris and incense.

Both compositions had an average tenacity on my skin, longer on the blotter (and I would surmiss on clothes) but they perform better on skin and thus the latter method is highly recommended when testing. Remarkable they do not dry down diametrically opposite, which lends a uniformity of style in the line. Philippe Mouquet's design of the trio of flacons for the Colognes Hermes vibrates in three nuances of green: vivid bottle-green, grey-green and dark forest green. The Hermes colognes are available as splash at major department stores and Hermes boutiques in 100ml (3.4oz)/$125 and 200ml (6.8oz)/$165 while Eau d'Orange Verte specifically is also available in the Tesla-size of 400ml (13.6oz)!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Interview with Jean Claude Ellena, Hermès fragrances, Eau de Cologne history & scents
Pics of fashion shoot at Goreme, Turkey via Corbis

Friday, March 9, 2007

No.18 from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review



When I fist heard about the new line by Chanel, officially termed Les Exclusifs, or affectionately termed Les Prétentieux, the one which I was most in anticipation of was no.18. Named after the number of the Chanel fine jewelry boutique at Place Vendôme it is a scent based on ambrette seed , a vegetal and very costly ingredient that natural perfumers use for substituting real and synthetic musk in their perfumes.
I had envisioned a whole scenario of soft smooth aromas in my mind, lured by the promise of musk that is one of my top favourite notes in creation in most of its nuances and incarnations. Not even the prophet Muhhamad has been so entranced by the promise of musk as I have!

However my impression of ambrette seed largely derives from the oil distilled and the absolute used in perfumes which I have had the rare pleasure of smelling and not the unshelled variety of the seed which I later found out goes into the production of no.18.
Hibiscus Abelmuschus, aka ambrette seed, is a plant of the hibiscus family whose names derives from the Greek ibis (a kind of bird that supposedly eats it) and the Arabic Kabbel-Misk (which means grain of musk). Usually the seeds of the plant when they “hatch” are pressed for their precious oil which takes on a soft, sweetish, skin-like aroma. According to Mandy Aftel the smell is sweet, rich, floral and musky all at once.

Imagine my surprise and dare I say a little disillusionment when I actually got my decant and sprayed the precious juice on my skin. An acrid, pungent smell first hit me that was not the richness and powderiness I anticipated so eagerly.
In fact it reminded me of an anecdotal story I want to share with you. While still little I had a penchant for mixing brews and potions and generally messing with spices, aromas, pomades and yes, perfumes. I found the whole concept of it fascinating and wanted to see how different smells could be combined and nuanced. Spices and cooking are a logical introduction and having been blessed with a mother who cooked well and kept a lot of interesting stuff in the kitchen cupboards I took them out one by one and started experimenting. Once it was the cloves: crushing them, then burning them (they do produce a different, very smoky aromatic sweet smell when burned). Then the pimento and saffron: experimenting with boiling them or immersing them in oil like I had seen women do with basil, rosemary and thyme for aromatizing olive oil (and yes, this is a valid practice that produces mouthwatering results). The stage that really did me in was mace. It was a spice I loved sprinkled on creams and cookies and in meat dishes. It gave a rich oriental, middle-eastern flavour to everything and I loved its ambience. Little did I know that upon burning the unshelled nut in the fireplace (which is quite a hard light brown one) the pungent smell would pervade the house to a point of suffocation and produce fumes that would take eons to clear out rendering my parents furious at me and me nauseous of that smell for life.

Sadly, it was that bitter childhood memory that the initial impression of burned pickles emanating from my no.18 sprayer produced in me. Of course I might be exaggerating because the effect is not nearly as strong as all that, although the whole scent is obviously orchestrated around the solo violin player of ambrette seed, there is no doubt about that.
The effect is certainly not ordinary at all and it only bears a slight resemblance to some oudh fragrances I have smelled and the likeable weirdness of Timbuktu by L’artisan Parfumeur.
Maybe this is an omphaloscopic post and I am analyzing this too much. The point is this medicinal, strange element deterred me from appreciating the full spectrum and possible beauty of no.18. I braced myself for the development, which soon came in the form of sweetish woody and fruity notes of a non-descript nature that in my humble opinion deter from the more daring opening that although repulsive to me personally due to the associations might be a strong pull to people who are interested in the adventurous, distinctive and different. The base is also a little synthetic smelling as if the natural aspect of ambrette seed is anchored with materials invented wearing a white robe, which is a bit antithetical to the promise of a rich vegetal smell.
The modernization of the concept so that it would not recall a natural artisanal perfume, but one issued by a pedigree great house does not work to its favour I think.

Jacques Polge has revealed in an interview that this is his favourite of the line-up and I can see how a person who doesn’t like oakmoss (as discussed before) and is an oriental lover would prefer this. It is certainly the most innovative of the lot and I dearly wish I had the virginal mental and olfactory make-up to really appreciate no.18. As it is, I am unfortunately unable to. It would be like uprooting a mighty tree out of my brain.




Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Le Labo Cuir 28 (Dubai exclusive): fragrance appreciation reprisal

Far from the crowd pleasing orientalism of Benjoin 19 (Le Labo's Moscow "city exclusive") which I had reviewed for Fragrantica last autumn, Cuir 28 by Le Labo reprises some of the butcher elements of the great leather perfumes tradition and marries them to a woody-peppery chord with unisex appeal. This brings it at a no man's land of leather scents, as it doesn't fit the mold of any category really; is it like Bandit (Piguet), Cabochard (Gres), Cuir de Russie (Chanel), Cuir de Lancome, John Varvatos Vintage, Tuscan Leather (Tom Ford), Bel Ami (Hermes) etc etc? It's like none of these things.


Phenols (tar-like notes resembling melting asphalt) resurface in Cuir 28 as a leathery note aspect on top; agressive and oozing with bitumen, the "cuir" note in Cuir 28 is unpresentable, tough and butch, probably an echo of Parchouli 24 which also presents an odd and visceral experience, especially if you're an acolyte of the school of sweet orientalized "suede" leather scents. The hardcore leather bar crowd however should find it eminently intriguing due to this very reason, although a bit of vanilla does surface later on; a respite of human affection after the hate fuck.

The fragrance segues into a iris-peppery combination that makes for the prolonged elegance of Chanel Les Exclusifs 31 Rue Cambon, diverging into two slices in the Le Labo creation, a still dry and with hints of vetiver earthiness medley that feels like a different person has walked into the room. The two slices do not meet in the pie and remain sort of disjointed throughout, which produces an odd but trippy experience for the wearer; in a way it's probably a test of whether you'll have your perfumista card revoked: do you have the patience to discover the unfolding?

The final phase of Cuir 28 comes through a hint of musky vanilla that tries to efface the butch factor of the top note, small comfort for the wild ride. For the full review please consult this link on Fragrantica.

Though a Dubai exclusive (Le Labo reserves some of its fragrances for city-specific distribution only resulting in the City Exclusive) for the month of September 2014 ONLY Cuir 28 can be found online at the official Le Labo site and Luckyscent. (I had been able to review this thanks to a generous procurer of the sample; you know who you are, thanks)


Friday, August 18, 2017

Chanel Les Exclusifs Boy: fragrance review

It's hard to go wrong with an aromatic fougere; men have been conditioned to opt for them and women to respond to them as "the natural scent of men" since at least the end of the 19th century when Jicky by Guerlain became the first to make an impact. Lavender and musk plus a spattering of sweeter notes is the basic recipe but each maker gives them their spin.


Chanel made Boy (after "Boy" Capel, a lover of Coco's) in their boutique range Les Exclusifs to appeal to those men who want that steadfast tradition in a sleek modern bottle and who don't mind a bit of a retro touch. This is what perfumer Olivier Polge (son of Jacques who was head perfumer for 3 decades) envisioned I'm sure.

What I smell distinctly after the top note of sharpness is the heliotrope and tonka which give a slight effect of marzipan paste; they elevate lavender from the usually medicinal territory into something softer and cuddlier. Hard to find this not fitting any occasion, casual, office or night out.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

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.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Le Labo Aldehyde 44: fragrance review

The aliphatic aldehydes string of Chanel No.5 is what is termed "aldehydic" in perfumery parlance and characterises a whole sub-group within the floral fragrance family: C10, C11, C12 aldehydes to be exact, creating an accord so memorable it has pervaded fragrance mores for decades. [If you don't know what aldehydes are, refer to this article]. Le Labo's take in Aldehyde 44 is more inspired by the sweeter, soapier, more snowy-capped mountains seen flying above in lesser known (and more American-geared) Godzilla-aldehydic Chanel No.22 and equally American "sharp clean" White Linen by Estee Lauder than muskier-sexier-dirtier (aka Frenchier) No.5 however. Perhaps the fact that it's a Dallas,TX city-exclusive (only Dallas inhabitants and visitors of the city's Le Labo boutique at Barneys can partake of the sprakling waters!) is not totally random as imagined.This is a clean, rested, posh fragrance; depilated, smoothed and hosed and full of energy, not languor.

The opening in the Le Labo fragrance is so old-fashioned elegant and prim in its sharp biting "sparkle", with its citrusy-waxy fat top note, you will be doing a double take to see whether you have been magically transported back to 1955 and wearing a whale-boned petticoat under your skirt. But the perfume is modern, in more ways than one.
The progression is seamless and sustainaibly sour aldehydic into a somewhat metallic musky floralcy in the base, without either too much sweetness or woodiness (The idea of musk at Le Labo can be perversely illusionary anyway, as attested in Musc 25. Perfumer Yann Vasnier is using ambrettolide here in Aldehyde 44, which is a macrocyclic musk, very refined, soapy smelling-fruity in character).
What is characteristic is there is no powderiness in Aldehyde 44, as associated with other retro fragrances that utilize irones and ionones (iris and violets) to denote cosmetic products and old-school face powder. Instead it's citrusy waxy-soapy-fatty, it makes me think it's what an hypothetical child between Ivoire by Balmain and White Linen would be like: the green sudsy oiliness of the former meets the fatty sweetness of the latter, the rosy facets taking on a peppery bite with lots of buds' green, a hint of pear fruit in there too.

If you read that Aldehyde 44 contains woods and vanilla and imagine a comforting scent, you will are in for a nasty surprise: the woods only come from the C12 aldehyde (a pollen-rooty, lilac scent) and the silvery refracting amber synthetic; while the citrusy touches are reminiscent of bitterish, tangy orange rind (which has a resinous quality, not unlike some incense blends) and not marmelade. The floral notes cannot be taken apart, it's an abstract blend where no note rises above the rest. Aldehyde 44 possesses "sweetness" of another kind altogether and it can only be compared to that encountered in No.22 (especially in its less incense-y modern incarnation as part of Les Exclusifs in Eau de toilette) or the classic Lauder referenced above. The sillage is civilized, but definitely there, and the lasting power very good. Lovers of the elegant polished genre, rejoice, this is a well-crafted example; perhaps not totally necessitating the ouchy price-tag nevertheless.

The offficial Le Labo presentation states: "Aldehyde 44 is a small wonder that sits tight between an aldehyde overdose, that gives this scent a unique cleanliness to it, a sublime floral composition that is built around Naracissus, Jasmin, and Tuberose (all Absolute in case you wandered), and a bed of muscs tied with a hint of vanilla. The result is esthetically admirable and unique".

Aldehyde 44 by Le Labo features fragrance notes of: aldehydes, tuberose absolute, jasmine sambac, narcissus absolute, woods, vanilla and musk.

Le Labo Aldehyde 44 is a Dallas, TX city-exclusive, retailing at $290 for 50ml, but only for the month of November it is globally available at Luckyscent and on the official Le Labo site.

Monday, March 22, 2021

Diptyque Fleur de Peau: fragrance review

The Diptyque story began in 1961 Paris at 34 Boulevard Saint-Germain with, at its heart, three friends driven by the same creative passion, who chose a Greek word which means a dual panel painting. Illustration was the very core of the founders, as Christiane Gautrot was an interior designer, Desmond Knox-Leet, a painter, and Yves Coueslant, a theater director and set designer. From then on, inspired by their Hellenic treks along the Greek peninsula and its mountainous terrain, and from their country cottage on the picturesque Mount Pelion, buried amidst thick fig trees all the way down the sea front, they launched several classics, from Virgilio to Philosykos

via

But the brand also presents a later day constellation of contemporary stars, like Eau Duelle and 34 Boulevard St.Germain. Picking just one is an Herculean task. The most sensual in the current rotation however is an easy choice. None other than Fleur de Peau. 

 Fleur de Peau relies on that rarity of the "musky idea": it harnesses the vegetal musks from angelica archangelica and ambrette seed oil, flanking them with ambrettolide, a macrocyclic musk which shares properties with ambrette seed and aids diffusion and lasting power. Thus the somewhat nutty, with a hint of berry, slightly sweaty and oddly metallic fusion of the properties in those fine musks gains the upper hand and makes Fleur de Peau very sensuous. 

Backed up with classic starchy iris, and carrot seed, which aids the earthy, starchy effect, it creates a cocoon of scent on the skin; it's as if the Platonic idea of sensuality has landed on our shores. The delicacy of vegetal musk with the central chord of pink pepper and rose recalls the refinement of Les Exclusifs de Chanel No 18 Chanel, and Musc Nomade Annick Goutal, two other fragrances with ambrette seed oil tucked into their heart of hearts. A quiet sensuality that does not plunge its décolleté low.

 

via pinterest amodelmoment

Fleur de Peau is soft, tenacious, with a discreet but perceptible sillage, radiant and glorious indeed. One of the better launches by Diptyque in recent years.

Friday, December 28, 2007

2007 in Retrospect: 13 Honest and Cynical Musings of a Perfume Lover




What I liked in 2007

1) So many lovely new releases were mainstream perfumes that could be actually had at a big store. From Infusion d’Iris by Prada to Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia by Estée Lauder through Hèrmes Kelly Calècheand Gaultier Le Fleur du Mâle, I found quite a few scents that I am thinking of upgrading into a full bottle in the future. There is something to be said for being able to purchase a decent perfume without having to jump through hoops or paying inordinate amounts of money on online auctions or sellers.

2) So many fledging or “smaller” (in terms of reputation or business volume, not value) perfumers have come to my attention in the last year and it has been a real pleasure knowing them and sampling their work. Although Perfume Shrine has shown an interest for the artisanal houses from the very start, it is encouraging to see that those perfumers have gained recognition and respect. We will continue to back up their efforts whenever they deserve it.

3) The vogue for “celebrity” scents has finally begun to show signs of waning. Although the releases have been certainly numerous, they have often gone out of the scene without making much of a bleep on the radar. This is what I mean by waning…I interpret this as a healthy sign, after whole seasons when there were sane people who were eager to purchase Jessica Simpson’s nauseating Dessert line! This will allow the few, decent and sometimes quite good fragrances that have arisen from this trend of emulating one’s favourite celebrity through olfactory terms to stand prouder on the shelf and be unapologetic for their till now declassé image.

4) The direction towards the new “chypres” away from the fruity florals of the past few years is a welcome relief. However, this is risky, because they might pose the danger of becoming ubiquitous themselves. In fact they’re about to…I can’t begin to note how many feature the “clean” patchouli base so prevalent among these new contestants: YSL Elle, Dior Midnight Poison, Gucci by Gucci, DKNY Delicious Night, Britney Spears Believe... Companies, take note!

5) Givenchy did the coup and issued decent, delectable re-issues of their classic fragrances in their line Les Mythiques. If only every house did it as well. Brownie points, good people at Givenchy: you have redeemed yourselves for the lapses of previous years which had turned a luxury brand into a run-of-the-mill department store name.

6) Perfume lovers are not that stupid after all. After a scandal on Ebay this past summer, when someone was revealed to be bying and filling up vintage empty perfume bottles with undefined juice and then selling them masquerading as the authentic thing, it was determined that people do pay attention. Some more than others; but that’s nothing new. At least, those who did had the good sense of community to alert other people to the scam. Justice hasn’t been metted out yet, because damages to disenchanted buyers haven’t been paid, but at least now people pay a lot more attention and are not that ready to believe that there is some huge vault of vintage treasures that someone out of the goodness of their heart is selling at moderate prices.

6) The huge readership of Perfume Shrine has shown yet again that they are here for the –hopefully good- content first and foremost and not for public relations or networking. I value that and appreciate it more than you know. Even you, numerous lurkers who don’t want to admit reading us regularly! Heartfelt thanks for the support, your interesting commentary and your valueable feedback on assorted scented matters.



What I didn’t like in 2007

1) The pretence in advertorials continues: from the Nasomatto manifesto for their scent for hysteria(!) ~which reminds me of 19th century “scientific” treatises focusing on abusing women~ to the By Kilian encyclopedic name-dropping of famous authors and oeuvres (to a zenith of excess!), there is a point of saturation when a little modesty and restraint might serve them better. The consumer becomes jaded or sceptical after a while and –dare I utter the word? - a little repulsed.

2) The prices of niche lines have escalated inordinarily. At this point one has to put a small mortgage on one’s house, car or favourite pet in order to be able to get the scent they have been craving. Surely, more expensive doesn’t automatically equate more upscale quality.
But the online business catering to perfume lovers has also gone upward in prices. Understandably, they need to make up for the costs. But somewhere deep, deep down it saddens me to think that people who would really love to sample an exclusive Serge Lutens have to pay upwards of 130$ for a bell jar that is 1/3 full, when the new, full one is available throughout Europe for –the comparatively meak- 100euros. For their sake, I hope prices go down.

3) Chanel decided to make it hard for their discerning fans to get Les Exclusifs. I have elaborated on this sufficiently in the past. But, to add insult to injury, they have withdrawn the small extrait de parfum bottles from the online shops and almost all the boutiques across the world (barring Paris ~and Harrods perhaps), making it very difficult to get what is essentially the best representation of their illustrious creations. On top of that, private sources that shall remain unnamed tell me that at L’Osmothèque there is a practice of recreating the jus from the rather recent batches of Chanel parfums and not the vintages from the start of the century. This is sad…

4) Lancôme also decided to abandon the plans for a complete revival of their long lost wonders. Cuir/Révolte proved too costly to produce, Climat is getting harder to get when it was widely available before, Sagamore and Sikkim are not the easiest to come by. Lanvin is comparable: Rumeur has been drastically changed and although very pretty in its recent incarnation, it is misleading to retain the old name. Scandal is not scheduled for re-issue. Ever.

5) Luxury seems to have lost its meaning. What passes for luxury is overpriced scented liquid that has an obscure place of origin and is only available at two doors tops around the world. I am sorry, but this is so bourgeois to want to have that just because of its above mentioned attributes that it self-evidently contradicts the élite approach of luxe.
What happened to the genuine enjoyment of something that you love for the associations it has or its intrinsic value? The privilege of time and the attention to detail that went into selecting it for a loved one? The intimate knowledge that you are wearing it in your own unique way on your own unique person that will never be the same as anyone else’s? There will come a time when luxury will be to wear nothing but one’s own natural skin odour. That will be a hard time for the perfume industry I predict.

6) Ava Luxe decided to take an indefinite break. Just when I was discovering her line and finding favourites, worse luck! Serena Ava Franco needed a break after filling order after order for her coveted samples: I can understand that it must have gotten on her last nerve after a while, not being able to do nothing much besides. I just hope she returns full force at some point.

7) I was not really surprised, but I was a little disillusioned to find that so many people (judging by comments left here and there on the Net) found the Nasomatto practice of not issuing notes for their ~variable in quality~ fragrances lamentable and even insulting. For once, I thought this was an innovative and trully liberating move; a course of action that would allow us to really smell what we perceive with our olfactive nerves and not what we have been conditioned to smell through advertorials about notes and accords, when in reality the actual ingredients bear no relation to them.

But I am asking too much, I know... It's cool, Dude!



Pics from allposters.com

Our Leather posts will continue next week with a review of a rare gem. There will be lots of exciting surprises too.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Mathilde Laurent Responds to Perfume Shrine's Questions (& a little on Cartier Les Heures du Parfum)

Most of you are familiar with Mathilde Laurent through her early work at Guerlain, when as a young graduate of ISIPCA, under the aegis of Jean Paul Guerlain she created her modern epics, faithful to the patrimony of papa Jacques: Her Guet Apens (later re-issued as Attrape Coeur, the whole entangled story can be read on this link) is one of the most celebrated "new Guerlains" among cognoscenti, in the degree that it reflects a true Guerlain character, yet is resolutely of its own era.

Her Shalimar Eau Légère, reviewed and cherised on these pages, is another one which takes the best of tradition and injects it with the saturated hues and bold lines of a contemporary Francis Bacon painting. Like her artistic idol Camille Claudel ~as divulged to Marian Bendeth on a Basenotes project last year~ Mathilde appreciates modernity coupled with sensitivity and creativity.
Pamplelune with its sunny grapefruit side is, surprisingly enough for its daring sulfurous mien, still a Guerlain best-seller and one of two Aqua Allegorias (a sub-line in the Guerlain portfolio with lighter, less complex scents) which has remained in production ever since introduction of the line, the other being Herba Fresca with its surprising take on mint. (Her other creations in the Aqua Allegoria line included Ylang et Vanille and Rosa Magnifica) At some point, Mathilde Laurent left Guerlain to spread her wings unto greener pastures, including a brief stint at jeweler André Gas in 2006 (for the Polynesian tropical scent Ensoleille-Moi) and the current in-house perfumer position at the venerable Cartier headquarters, where she is composing bespoke scents (Sources place the price for juice to last 3-5 years up to 60,000 euros or $75,500). Her masculine, (again) mint-ladden Roadster for the mainstream jewellery house release last year has graced our pages and was considered a successful entry, poised most wisely between commerciability and artistic merit. Mathilde's talent is undisputed, her desire and ambition to compliment the art of perfumery with a decisive and landmarking contribution nevertheless is laudable. For her "perfume is a message, an expression of oneself" and a perfumer is "a sillagiste!"

I took the invitation that Elisa de Feydeau kindly opened for her francophone readers and asked Mathilde a couple of questions which she was most gracious to reply to. For the benefit of our English-speaking readers, here are her answers.

My first question had to do with something I had read in Perfumes, the Guide, a quote by Luca Turin in his Pamplelune review, in which he equated Laurent's turning to bespoke perfumery to "the saddest waste of human talent since Rimbaud decided to study engineering" (If this isn't praise, I don't know what is!). I was wondering whether the foreboding feeling created by this remark in my mind had come to a reversal through the new line Les Heures du Parfum for Cartier (a high-end project more on which below) and whether she was hopeful that the new line would open a dialogue between herself and perfume lovers; those Others beyond the scope of the mega-rich who have the means to order their very own perfume. After all, as revealed by Jean Claude Ellena to us before, custom perfumery runs the risk of inadvertdly "deceiving" the customer.

Mathilde Laurent herself had explained the bespoke process in the past in very clear terms: "Together (with the client), we explore scents associated with meaningful life experiences, from pleasant childhood recollections to a present image the client wishes to project. We transpose the Cartier style, a perfectly studied simplicity, into the scent. Just a few carefully selected high-grade ingredients are blended, so that each essence remains distinctive, not lost in a hazy combination." In the pursuit of good materials, she's relentless: "I look for the truly exceptional, the atypical, the never-before-seen" (The floral extracts used cost about $5,000 per kilogram, or $142 per ounce). "The provenance of the flower, its rarity where it was bred, the manner of extracting its essence, the climatic conditions that year, all are taken into account."
In hindsight Mathilde appreciates Luca Turin's accolades enormously: "He was among the first to support me and encourage me". She terms the bespoke service "a step, a detour in order to get someplace else". "I could never imagine not creating for The Others", she reveals, although she's quick to point out that "bespoke perfumery is for me a wonderful means to be close to those who love and wear perfume and to push the envelope regarding experimentation on new accords, to test and increase one's creativity and one's technique. Bespoke perfumery acts as a complimentary course for me, it nourishes my work on other projects. I hope that Cartier's Les Heures du Parfum will generate a dialogue with people wearing them, since for me perfume is a message that the skin diffuses, I am always interested in expression, perfume is always destined for the Other".

Another issue that is burning perfume lovers and the industry itself with the intensity of a surgical laser is the pressing issue of restrictions on perfumery ingredients. (You can read a recap and personal thoughts with a minimum of emotional sidekicks on this link and on that one). Mathilde Laurent proved to me to be both practical and wise: "Regarding the perfumery materials which are restricted from our palette, I pretend they never existed. Nevertheless, I continue to search for the effect they present, even though it might be considered a tad Utopian; to substitute with other ingredients and combinations. One must always start from scratch and search, search...Having "come of age" at Guerlain however {she started apprenticeship there at the tender age of 23, going to exotic places and learning about ingredients with the very best} I have intimately known all of those precious materials before they were rationed and their effect has most definitely marked me. I do keep them in memory, always!" Hopefully, with creative minds such as Mathilde's, even the parsimonious palette of essences that is left to perfumers can take a new shape and be utilized in a novel syntax that have been left unatttured till now. The future is here and it is brave!
As to her own pleasure, Mathilde has left herself to be seduced by her latest creation for Cartier XIII La Treizième Heure, a smoky leathery composition, even though she declares she never wears perfume on her free time (Her other rare ~she stresses~ indulgunce is Guet Apens). After all, she hopes to instigate a discourse, not a monologue, and I hope she will always succeed in doing that!

Les Heures du Parfum by Cartier are set to be 13 fragrances in the "neo-niche" mold of luxury brands such as Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences, boutique Guerlain scents, Armani Prive, Van Cleef & Arpels etc. (material-oriented compositions, uniform bottles, limited distribution). Cartier touts them as 'one really haute collection of fragrances for connoisseurs' to commemorate . The scents take on Latin numbers instead of names to reflect the digits on the famous Cartier watches, plus a lucky number thirteen in honour of the number of la maison Cartier's first address at 13 Rue de la Paix in Paris. They are to be spaced out in a period of a few years. The first five are coming out this November on the 10th in 35 Cartier boutiques all around the world. Eau de Parfum in 75 ml flacons for 250 dollars (Chayaruchama told me they're already at Saks in New York City, so New Yorkers take note and report back!).

Fragrance Notes for Les Heures du Parfum according to Grain de Musc (who got them straight from the horse's mouth and is enthused):

I – L’Heure Promise (The promised hour): a green iris with petitgrain, fresh herbs, sandalwood and musk.
VI – L’Heure Brillante (The shining hour): a bright aldehydic citrus cocktail with lemon, lime and a gin accord. X – L’Heure Folle (The crazy hour): an aldehydic fruity green with redcurrant, pink pepper, grenadine (pomegranate syrup), blueberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, violet, leafy notes, ivy, boxwood, shiso, polygonum (=knotweed)
XII – L’Heure Mystérieuse (The mysterious hour): a woody floral with jasmine, patchouli, elemi, coriander, incense, olibanum, juniper.
XIII -La Treizième Heure (The 13th hour): a sweet leather with maté tea, birch tar, narcissus, bergamot, patchouli and vanilla.


Portrait of Mathilde Laurent via Basenotes, images4.hiboox.com and luxuryculture, Cartier bottles via punmiris.com

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Cologne du 68 by Guerlain: fragrance review, history and comparison

Once upon a time there was a deep blue, carriage lantern with a clear stopper holding the purple creature of the night, la belle de nuit aux violets that is Guet Apens. She made her debut via the magic of nose Mathilde Laurent 10 years ago (1999) when Guerlain had its first inflow of funds from LVMH's initial investment. But the spell would be broken at midnight: this carriage was a pumpkin and limited editions are called limited for a reason; fairy godmothers can do no exceptions, no matter how talented! Was the sobriquet non sonours enough to English-speaking ears? Was there a rival fairy-godfather? No one outside Guerlain knows for sure in this fairy tale. Still, the fairy dust was too addictive and the recipe too delicious to be left at that. One belle was put to bed for an eternal slumber, another came out with a slight retouche by Jean Paul Guerlain three years later: she was simply named No.68(limited edition). The numerological Moerae were unstinting to her: 68 would be her charms and virtues, almost as many as the Napoleonic bees which adorned her herculean (250ml) physique. The resinous, powdery, vanillic juice at her core bore ties of consanguinity with both Guet Apens and Terracotta. But she too had to leave her slippers behind for fair princes to pick up in desperate hopes; she's no longer made in that guise.

Years passed in Guerlaindom and suitors came and went empty-handed, until someone realised that the address of their flagship store on the Champs Elysées in Paris is too good to pass up (after all every self-respecting maison has their address emblazoned on something) and Guerlain Cologne du 68 was born, seemingly Athena-like from Zeus' head, but in fact through the artistry of Sophie Labbé in 2006. What better of a constant reminder of the abode and shrine character of that emblematic boutique in the market?

First the new unisex Cologne du 68 came in the brave, Titanic size of 500ml. The age of the Titans was inaugurated by Les Exclusifs de Chanel and progressed from them. Size did matter! Later, masterminds at the Guerlain and LVMH headquarters realised that more customers could be lured in, if a more modest size was introduced and who wants to feel antagonized anyway? Enter the 100ml/3.4oz size which now circulates. And how does this new sprite smell? Completely different than her other, previous, stupendous incarnations; yet prodigiously good! Guerlain sang its siren song: "Fresh spices of cardamom and coriander blended with citrus fruits are warmed with hot spices of pepper and ginger for an everlasting scent [...] a sumptuous composition with 68 of the finest raw materials gathered from all over the world. Both fresh and spicy, it will win hearts with its ultra-modern facets, long wearing scent and beautiful, tall minimalist bottle."

Guerlain Cologne du 68 is ~if not fairy-tale like~ a feat of masterful work: It utilizes a sophisticated composition interplaying rich scents that conspire to give the full spectrum of aroma with no more general descriptor possible than the ambiance of a warm citrus shimmering under the spell of spices. A masterful combination of floral, spicy oriental, aromatic, herbal green and even clean elements with a powdery iris-vanillic-tonka finish that anchors it firmly in the Guerlain tradition; yet thoroughly modern, eminently wearable, fit for every occasion. The drydown is warm, rather sweet and lasting with blonde woods and slightly powdery notes that put it in flou.

The tall cylindrical bottle is appropriately unisex, well-made with the wooden cap recalling the one on Terre d'Hermès. The purpotedly 68 ingredients show up on the label, apothecary-style.

Notes for Guerlain Cologne du 68: bergamot, green mandarin, lemon, clementine, orange peel, blood orange, sweet lime, grapefruit, basil, fennel, star anise, lavender, bay leaf, cypress, elemi, thyme, myrthe, bigarade, mandarin, petit grain, lemon petit grain, pear, violet greens, lierre, gentiane, seve, blackcurrant, freesia, lily of the valley, hazel leaf, cyclamen, cardamom, coriander, black pepper, pink berry, nutmeg, ginger, jasmine, frangipane, magnolia blossom, orange blossom, peony, rose, carnation, ylang-ylang, lychee, fig, blackberry, immortelle, lentisque (mastic), opoponax, amber, benzoin, vanilla, cistus, heliotrope, iris, tonka bean, sage, musk, patchouli, agarwood, cedar, sandalwood, vetiver, vegetable musk, praline, myrrhe and lichen.

Available for $100 for 3.4 oz/100ml at Neiman Marcus and at Guerlain boutiques the world over.

Cinderella illustrationg by Gustave Doré, from the 19th century, via logoi.com .Pic of bottle by Kittyfishstyle/mua

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