Chanel Antaeus & Antaeus Sport Cologne: fragrance reviews & comparison

Should anyone were to purchase a masculine Chanel fragrance off the mainstream, department store circuit, Antaeus would top the list. Beyond the easy-to-like-factor of  Égoïste, Antaeus is at once satisfyingly full-bodied and perversely challenging to pin down, like a porcupine run amok. It both feels as ambitious as Gordon Gecko and is sexy as hell at the same time. In fact "shexy" is more accurate of a description; it was the first, purring exclamation my girl friend blurted out when presented with a blotter sprayed with it. Her eyes all sprakled up, I swear! And she's a gal to wear floral musks and light woodies herself, no potent stuff by any stretch of the imagination.

As to Antaeus Sport Cologne, such an outfit not only exists, it's totally hawt itself! Contrary to what might be expected of the name, it's neither new, nor shy, sporty-smelling cologne. Instead Antaeus Sport was conceived just 4 years after the original as a rather less chest-thumping version; in contemporary terms, that's as polite as Gordon Ramsay and as meek as Simon Cowell and I just love it. I've  made myself crystal clear, I hope? Good! On to the more analytical description.

Chanel Antaeus Scent Description & Contradictions
Antaeus hails from Greek mythology, though it was Jacques Wartheimer who decided to name his company's new masculine thus after the shop name of one of his friends (don't ask!). The handsome hero with the hostile name (the Greek "Antaios" means opposing, it survived as Änti in the Berber tradition, since the hero was supposedly born in Libya) was a giant (the son of Greek Goddess of the Earth, Gaeia, and of Poseidon, the god of the sea) and the fragrance would be just as powerful. His advantage, in true Dracula-style millenia before the Stoker hero, was touching the sacred earth-mother for regaining his strength, and classical sculpture presents him in wrestling poses with Hercules lifting him in the air in a crushing bearhug. No wonder Chanel Antaeus soon became a cult gay favourite! As would have been expected, Antaeus is a beautiful, classically handsome earthy chypre scent, woody-baritone in timbre with glorious animalic, leathery and herbal accents. Not only that, but it's classically built into an arc of progressing accords which keeps one engrossed till the very end.

Composed in 1981 by in-house Chanel perfumer Jacques Polge, in-house Chanel perfumer after Henri Robert and Ernest Beaux before him, it brings back the 80s as surely as Doc Martins, suspenders on men, and jackets with shoulderpads. The fragrance is so complex, nuanced and well-blended, I seem to sometimes pick up notes that aren't even listed in the official notes given by the company, such as chamomille, smooth amber, some subdued rose beneath the patchouli, even a hint of fruit...then I can't quite catch them again, and on and on. It's also funny that it gives the impression of being oakmoss-rich, while in fact neither of the boxes are stating even as small a percentage as 0,1% as allowed by IFRA directions. Not only that, but its perfumer, Jacques Polge, has been put on record in French paper Le Figaro, a propos the launch of "nouveau chypre" 31 Rue Cambon as not a great fan of oakmoss anyway, because he" finds the smell too bitter". A self-proclaimed oriental lover, mr.Polge "had to search for exotic varieties of patchouli growth to substitute the moss element that is needed in a chypre composition". Yet surely such reasons had no resonance back in 1981 and Polge has used oakmoss before (even in keepsaking the other Chanel fragrances he didn't author). But smelling Antaeus besides similarly veined leathery woody-oriental Yatagan by Caron, one sees how it might just be possible.

The opening blast of Antaeus is arid and very memorable; sharp citrusy notes (clary sage, bergamot and lime with its sharp yet lightly sweet profile) meet the unique aroma of myrtle, but at the very same moment we're buoyed by the deathly pungency of castoreum flowing from the depths. This gives a leather note of impossing character, smoothed thanks to woodier nuances and herbs (thyme mostly). Perhaps this is why Antaeus can justifiably stand as the masculine version of Chanel No.19 and thus finds its lineage in the Chanel portfolio. But whereas No.19 is powdery with a glimpse of flowers, Antaeus is manly as a "French key" and bitter-dark with a somewhat soapy note (which reminds me of chamomille, rose, patchouli and vetiver combined). The woody fusion of patchouli and sandalwood reminds of formidable virile masculines of the same era such as Cartier Santos and Givenchy Gentleman..and yes, Kouros by YSL! What asserts the Chanel's irresistible charm, stopping it from appearing desolate and bone-dry, is the delectable, sweet and decidedly "animalic" (aka animalistically sexy) labdanum and beeswax absolute base; the two materials are pheromone-like, erotically full of vibrancy, full of hushed gropping in the dark. The contradicting enigma of total id in a total class package.

Notes for Chanel Antaeus: Clary Sage, myrtle, bergamot, patchouli, sandalwood, labdanum, beeswax absolute.

Antaeus seems to have passed through two reformulating periods, as far as my memory serves. The first deducted some of the opening pungency and upped a somewhat aldehydic character in the opening. The second lightened the potency and lasting power, but seems to have re-established some of the arid and distrurbing top note which makes it what it is. It's perfectly good as it is, for now.

Chanel Antaeus Sport Cologne Scent Description, History & Comparison with Original Antaeus
Antaeus Sport Cologne (1985) came on the heels of the original, making it a "sport vintage" which is an oxymoron to write history with. It's now discontinued for no good reason other than it might have given convulsions to the type of guy who is seeking fragrances tagged as "sporty" because in reality he wants a limp-wristed thing to not offend other guys at the office. Exactly contemporary to Guerlain's exquisite Derby, this old-school fragrance shares some of the latter's facets imbuing the heart with an irresistible pull. Namely the green bitterness of the artemisia, some of the spice (the nutmeg and pepper in Derby become pimento, mace -from which nutmeg is extracted- and pepper in Antaeus Sport), and certainly the woody and leather core. This is an aromatic woody chypre like the original and it packs a punch. While Derby is firmly poised on Perfumed Olympus, Antaeus Sport languishes in limbo due to its unknown status. It's true that Derby is plusher in typical Guerlain style and rather more polished (the way Diorling is super-polished in the feminine leathers stakes), while the Chanel is a bit rough at the edges, but by no means an unworthy contestant.

The two Antaeus verions are clearly related, yet they do persent their differences. The Sport variant is smoother and less herbal than the original Antaeus, with a less dissonant harmony and a more luminous -rather than darkish- trail. It's totally lasting and rich, however, belying its perception as a "lighter" edition. This is seriously good stuff and if you happen upon a bottle someplace (auction, estate sale, back of moving out apothecary) grab it and hold on to it for dear life. On the plus point, since it faced the fate of discontinuation, it profited from having its depths non disfigured and its potency preserved intact.

Notes for Chanel Antaeus Sport: Bergamot, lemon, artemisia, peppermint, pimento, rose, pepper, mace, jasmine, leather, vetiver, sandalwood, patchouli, oakmoss.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria fragrances: notes, history & short reviews

It's easy to look down on the Aqua Allegoria line as an entry level for Guerlainophile wannabes. Compared with the house's megaliths, such as Mitsouko, Shalimar or Vetiver, these seem like fragrances with much less monumental heft and no aspirations for posterity. Yet this "allegorica" line hides a few gems that are more than a simple sent bon and some which manage to be memorable in themselves.
The Aqua Allegoria line began as an exercise in deduction in 1999: the baroque compositions of old were too complicated for a younger, budding Guerlainista who approached the brand from the point of reference of their mother's vanity and the fascination with their Terracotta makeup products. Guerlain was ripe for a change after influx of money from LVMH had poured into the old giant. Therefore a simpler, more joyful approach seemed like a good idea. Focus on streamlined formulae zooming onto the raw materials themselves in identical bottles was on the vanguard of a nascent approach to niche perfumery; only this time available at major department stores at affordable prices. If only things continued on that path for the perfume lover...but I digress.



Perfumers' Rift, Changes in Direction
Before perfumer Mathilde Laurent and Jean Paul had what seems like the fallout of the century (the two are never mentioned in the same breath and all innuendo that Mathilde had worked for the brand was meticulously averted for years), a bunch of the first Aqua Allegorias were composed by her. Incidentally these are the best ones, in scope of creativity, elegance of structure and flair for the individualistic streak. Some of the more modern ones, especially the solo-frutastic ones, seem like they're forgetting they're fragrances and veer too much into the flavours drawer positioning. Lately the compositions have reverted to rounder bouquets (ex.Bouquet No.1) or soliflores, such as the upcoming Jasminora and Rosa Blanca, that hark back to the original issues more than 10 years ago.

Several fragrances in the line are no more: official word wants the scents to have been limited edition all along, one new coming after the old one tires out. But it wasn't so clear cut in the beginning and the survivors (Pamplelune, Herba Fresca) indicate that it might have to do with actual perfume sales figures rather than with any concrete concept. Which is a pity, as a couple (Winter Delice, Flora Nerolia) have something of a cult following, but there you have it. Some can still be found on online discounters or Ebay.

Launches & Design
The original line-up comprised 5 scents in 1999, thereafter an addition or so each year, with a few exceptions, and then picking up at the steady rhythm of two per year, usually each spring with an eye to summer wearing. The original bottle design revisited a simplified bee motif: the honeycomb was embracing the top of the smooth glass bottle with the sprayer built into the cap. The original packaging used a romantic design of flowers or other materials (accordingly) on the outer box, rendered like a delicate watercolour. In 2010 the outer packaging of the whole line was revamped so as to be uniform; all white, the differentiation now only being the colour of the Napoleonic bee embossed and the vertical line crossing the Guerlain logo on the front's top. To my own eye, the older packaging is more successful, even if less coherent.

THE GUERLAIN AQUA ALLEGORIA LINE IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER:

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Herba Fresca (1999): A real herbal green scent. Focusing on mint, but not quite: the dew on the leaves, the fine herbs, its beautiful grassy ambience raise it one notch up from many herbal efforts from others. A survivor, it still circulates on Guerlain counters and is always in production.


Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lavande Velours (1999): Lavender is given the Guerlain treatment, but done lightly and softly: iris, tonka bean and sandalwood mollify the harsher, cleaner aspects of fresh lavender. Discontinued. Chamingly, it also circulated as scented linen powder sachets...

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune (1999): One of the beacon grapefruit renditions in the whole of perfumery. A wonderful creation that boosts the sulfurous fruit with bergamot, cassis, petitgrain, patchouli and vanilla. If you're among the lucky ones that don't turn this one into cat-pee on your skin (this is one fragrance that is testament to the diversification of effect according to skin Ph) you're set for all your summery needs. A proud survivor, it's still in production.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Rosa Magnifica (1999): Rose takes on a spicy mantle for a simple, but lovely interpretation of a classic theme. Miles away from classic Guerlain Nahéma of course. Disontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Ylang & Vanille (1999): The most Guerlain-like in the original bunch, it is a floriental with great tenacity and radience. Ylang Ylang is boosted by vanilla and fanned on soft notes of iris and jasmine. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia (2000): A memory of Sevillian orchards where bigaradiers and sweet orange trees sway their leaves and blossoms to the breeze. I find Flora Nerolia especially lovely, marrying as it does neroli, orange blossom and a hint of jasmine with a miniscule incense-woody facet in the bottom. (Lamentably) discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Gentiana (2001): Not groundbreaking, but if you enjoy the take of Angeliques sous la Pluie, you have good chances of liking Gentiana as well. Its mountaintop dry and cool air (due to wild gentiane) is a breath of freshness in a milieu where everyone is wearing something sweet and cloying. Discontinued. Was also available as scented massage oil.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Winter Delice (2001): The only truly limited edition, as it circulated in the autumn of 20o1 with a clear destination to be a Christmas/wintery scent, smooth, deep, sumptuous and comforting. The voluptuous depth of pain d'épices and labdanum is given a fresh counterpoint in pine (pinus sylvestris). Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lilia Bella (2002): A classic lily of the valley "clean" floral, slightly dishevelled by the inclusion of a healthy dose of lilac. Springtime and youthful floral. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lemon Fresca (2003): The well-known diet drink called Fresca is synonymous with refreshment and energising. Guerlain took this idea, making it a tonic to spritz on, full of sour notes of lemon, lime and bergamot. A little wood underscores, while an anise touch (just a tad) adds an air de famille. But it doesn't venture far off the lemon start. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Foliflora (2003): A millefleurs effect that was little convincing. Consisting of bergamot, neroli, apricot, white freesia, gardenia, sweet pea, angelica, vanilla and sandalwood, it's nice without rippling the pond. Discontinued.



Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Anisia Bella (2004): Aniseed is a classic mainstay in Guerlain fragrances from Apres L'Ondee and L'Heure Bleue onwards and here it's given a smothering of volatile notes such as bergamot and basil which complement its melancholic spiciness, alongside sweeter jasmine, violet and the discreet backdrop of cedar. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Mentafollia (2004): The simpler side-kick of Herba Fresca, focusing on bittersweet herbs. The latter is better, somehow, more complete. Predictably discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Orange Magnifica (2005): This is the first of the "fruities" Aqua Allegorias that really ruined it for the rest. A lovely Calabrian orange with a discreet almond background, progressing from the fruity to the lightly floral (neroli, clean jasmine). Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pivoine Magnifica (2005): A very clean, scrubbed floral that boosts the effect with hesperidia and the mainstays of iris-violet that Guerlain is famous for. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Grosellina (2006): Fruity-candy, cassis composition that accented the whole with fresh citrus notes on top. Nothing noteworthy really. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Tutti Kiwi (2006): An odd combination of kiwi and licorice, fanned on sandalwood and vanilla for sweetness. Probably my least favourite in the line. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Angélique Lilas (2007): Aqueous floral with notes of pink pepper, lilac, angelica and bitter orange. Luca Turin calls it a "footnote on Eau d'Issey years later". I believe he means unnecessary; it's not that horrendously bad. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Mandarine Basilic (2007): Two elements that contrast, orange-y sweet and spicy aromatic with ivy tones. Still available and in production according to official site.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Figue Iris (2008): Green fruity scent with fig leaves and fruits, very summery, dusted with a hint of iris so as to be reminded of the heritage. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Laurier Réglisse (2008): Another unusual combination, this time laurel and licorice. This gives a soft and green fragrance that has a unique taste buds appeal. Original. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Cherry Blossom (2009): A sakura perfume, simple and spring-like. Fresh and a little bit sentimental fruity floral. [Not to be confused with the stand-alone Cherry Blossom limited edition in the Louis XV flacon].

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Tiaré Mimosa (2009): A tropical note (tiaré) and one which is inspired by a tropical destination (mimosa is an Australia native). Spicy accents and citrus lift the sweeter base that includes vanilla, clean musk and vetiver. The popular "suntan lotion" theme. Still available.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nymphea (2010): The anniversary edition to celebrate 10 years of Aqua Allegoria is a floral with youthful image. I wasn't particularly impressed. Available from a bunch of places, often on offer.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Bouquet No.1 (2010): This was a travel exclusive edition that didn't circulate widely. A peachy white floral (jasmine, delicate fruity notes), I thought Bouquet No.1 is an elegant play on the ubiquitous fruity floral theme.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Jasminora (2011): A lovely and true green jasmine soliflore, with a refreshing freesia note on top. Review of Jasminora here.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Bouquet No.2 (2011): A tropical take on fruity notes of litchi, fanned on rose and iris for tenacity and elegance. More info on Bouquet No.2 here.  

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Rosa Blanca (2011): More info on Rosa Blanca here.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia (2012): More info on Lys Soleia here. 

NB: Dicontinued does not mean introuvable; it means out of production. There is still old stock left, some of which I have linked on each of the fragrances.

Top pic via Le blog de la mechante. Other pics via parfum de pub.

Twin Peaks: Chanel No.19 and Heure Exquise reviews & comparison

Two sisters cut from the same cloth, but parting ways in their pursuit of self-fulfilment is not an uncommon scenario in real life, but when it happens to fragrances the comparison warrants exploration. A beautiful icy queen in contrapuncto to a bohemian lady of pedigree is how these two seem.

In Chanel No.19 I find every bit of that confident self-assurance that few women project without appearing displeasingly haughty. Composed by Henri Robert in 1971 for Coco Chanel herself, who supposedly overlook its creation from start to finish and first commissioned it for herself while in her 80s, it's one of the compelling masterpieces of perfumery and I personally love it dearly.
A very cool and powdery iris sings in soprano voice above the greenest vetiver and crunchiest galbanum this side of pre-reformulation Vent Vert; green jasmine vine dew and a little wood and leather give it aloof sophistication. It wears equally well on a hot day or a cool rainy one and this is an admirable trait, making it a perfect spring choice. Poised between green floral and green chypre, to me it definitely leans to the latter, a very elegant and confident one at that, that does not demand dressy clothes but could be just as fetching with something more casual. I picture it with a crisp white shirt on and silver bangles on a warm day, hair down; carefree and free-spirited and a little audacious to contrast with its primness of character. It would be a grave mistake to pair it with twin sets and pearls, all the paraphernalia of prim and proper, subtracting from its strict-boss sexiness.

The three concentrations are quite different from one another and thus worth comparing.
The Eau de Toilette comes in a refillable spray bottle, same as the classic No.5 but in silvery brushed aluminum instead of black; or a flat oblong spray bottle with a rectangular black or silver cap. The Eau de Parfum comes in the classic flat Chanel bottle with curved edges, with a spraying mechanism, just like No.5 in Eau de Parfum. Parfum is of course encased in the loveliest flacon of the three, with the excellent craftmanship reserved for the top products of the line.
Each of them hides a different aromatic secret: Eau de Toilette is the sharpest, dewiest and startingly greenest of the three, an affair of iris and vetiver in a naughty tryst after the executive power breakfast.
On the other hand Eau de Parfum, a creation of the 80s, highlights the crystalline Rose de Mai, along with jasmine, appearing more amply floral and curvaceously richer, justifying the green floral categorisation. Parfum is closer to Eau de Toilette, with a subtler projection however, the green whisper of violet leaves and vetiver embracing the coolness and powderiness of iris. The hint of undergrowth via oakmoss is also a bit more pronounced, which might signal the toll of death for the precious formula in light of IFRA and EU restrictions in the near future (let's hope not!)

Myself I have a preference for the translucent, icy clarity of the Eau de Toilette. In fact I am perfectly satisfied with it to the point I don't feel the need for parfum in this one, unless one is concerned with sharpness and projection.
The Eau de Parfum has a tendency towards turning sour on me, adding to my frustration with rosy accents that I am forever trying to come to terms with. But for rose lovers, this is the concentration to go after.
There are also two distinct formulae on this one, as attested by two differently hued bottles in the same store, which were of slightly different batches: one more emerald green, another more yellowish. Light or time deterioration could not be the culprit for the difference, as the first pigments to deteriorate are blue-toned ones, then red, then yellow, much like it happens with wines (a purple or green hue in red and white wine respectively -both shades containing a bit of blue in them- is a sure sign of a fresh batch and not an aged vintage).
There is discussion of reformulation, which is especially poignant regarding parfum, if so. The Parfum flacons I have come across do not present shade differences (yet) and are uniformely an ambery colour juice, but this is not to indicate that it will not follow the other concentrations in the future.

Notes for Chanel No.19:
Top: lemon, galbanum, bergamot
Heart: violet Leaf, rose de Mai, jasmine Grandiflorum from Grasse, ylang ylang, orris Root, lily of the valley
Base: vetiver, leather, sandalwood, oakmoss


Heure Exquise by Annick Goutal means "exquisite hour" and refers of course to what Guerlain poetically called l'heure bleue: the moment when the sun has set, but the night sky has not yet found its stars.
There is a wonderful poem by Paul Verlaine titled "La lune blanche"/"White Moon" which uses the very phrase in the end and it would be magnificent to think that it might have served as an inspiration:

"The white moon shines in the woods.
From each branch springs a voice
beneath the arbor.
Oh my beloved...

Like a deep mirror, the pond reflects
the silhouette of the black willow
where the wind weeps.
Let us dream! It is the hour...

A vast and tender calm seems to descend
from a sky made iridescent by the moon.
It is the exquisite hour!"

~Translation from the French by Grant A. Lewis (indiana.edu), referenced through this link with a comparison with the French text.

According to Michael Edwards, if you like Hermès Hiris or Chanel No.19 (both boasting a hefty amount of iris and in fact sharing a similar skeleton of perfume structure with Heure) you will like Heure Exquise. And in this case the correlation is eminently apparent!
Composed by Annick Goutal and Henri Sorsana (her perfumery mentor) in 1984, at a time when such cool and shady compositions were not the norm, it departs with its soapy iris note.
Goutal pegs it as:

"A sophisticated trail of Turkish rose, a gentle powdery base of iris from Florence and Mysore sandalwood. This fragrance recreates the atmosphere of a rose garden that blossoms with the passing of each exquisite hour."

Heure Exquise is a gentler, less astrigent sister of Chanel No.19, drier even and more powdery, with a more romantic, presque bohème streak due to its animalic submantle. Despite it being a newer creation than the Chanel it posseses an Art Deco vibe that is more old-fashioned than No.19.
Ravishing green pepperiness of galbanum provides the arresting first impression while the mysterious mists of iris with its powdery note enforces the similarity. Rose blossoms emitting their aroma in a dusky garden peak through in true feminine form.
However on closer inspection there is an almost incense-like feel of woody resiny aroma which contributes to the sui generis character of the whole. A subtle vanillic hint plays hide and seek in the woody base, never sweet. The progression does not change much on a blotter or on the skin and the tenacity and sillage are a bit more subdued than No.19. It is less cooly composed, less correct in its demeanour, with hair slightly out of place perhaps and clothes that might defy the rules of ineffable chic, but more spontaneous and passionate as a result.

The comparison between the two fragrances reminds me of the two sisters in the film The Heart of Me, based on the novel by Rosamond Lehmann. Set in 1930s London, it features two sisters - Madeleine and Dinah, played by Olivia Williams and Helena Bonham Carter respectively - and their contrasting characters: one marries Rickie (Paul Bettany), a debonair City businessman; the other falls in love with him. He begins an affair which is to have repercussions throughout their lives.
To feel the differences between the two sisters, you can watch the trailer, clicking here.

Heure Exquise like Dinah "might not be the most elegant creature, but it has passion". If No.19 becomes seriously compromised it is an excellent alternative and a wonderful stand alone perfume in any case.

Notes for Heure Exquise:
Top: Turkish rose
Middle: Orris
Base: Mysore sandalwood

Pic of Chanel No.19 ad courtesy of Parfum de Pub, pic of Goutal bottles courtesy of Annick Goutal official site.

Herbal & Tangy, Aromatic & Green: Unusual Scents from the Bountiful Garden

Have you ever wanted to bottle the sweet smell of an herb garden or the tangy scent of a tomato? Such a mental image is enough to send your mind spinning into fantasies of having your own little patch of greenery or the memory of cutting the stems of fresh, organic vegetables grown in your childhood's garden. I suppose these are daydreams we all have but have yet to find the perfect scented memento to make them come alive again. Well, now you can, apparently.



 Great American Scents, a New Albany, Ohio based company that creates unique fragrances and candles, recently launched a new line of scented candles and perfumes called Bountiful Garden. These artisanal scents were created for a woman (or a man!) who loves the natural smell of the earth’s bounty; they signal freshness and impart the free-feeling spirit of the outdoors.

The 2013 Spring and Summer Collection features these enticing fragrances:

Tomato Leaf
Nothing signals a garden in full bloom more than sweet and luscious red tomatoes on the vine. And to their succulent charm Great American Scents added the oh-so slightly tart scents of verbena and rhubarb. Plus the beguiling earthiness of oak and moss. This is summer heaven. Top Notes: verbena, rhubarb, tomato stem; Mid-Notes: Olive flower, crushed green leaves; Dry Notes: oak moss, guaiac wood

Flowering Herbs
Nothing complements a garden and kitchen like a delightfully fragrant herb garden. Bright grapefruit and crisp apple scents, followed by fresh hyacinth and luscious peonies with pretty patchouli notes underneath will greet anyone who walks through a room. Top Notes: Grapefruit, green herbs, apple; Mid-Notes: Hyacinth, lotus flower, peony; Dry Notes: sycamore, patchouli, blonde woods

Sweet Magnolia
Conjure up the romantic South more with the honeyed goodness of magnolia blossoms. With a touch of lemon and hyacinth for brightness, and that most charming of scents – gardenia. Beneath it all Great American Scents has stirred in the timeless intrigue of iris and sandalwood. Top Notes: Lemon, gardenia leaves, hyacinth; Mid-Notes: gardenia blossom, lotus flower, magnolia; Dry Notes: skin musk, sandalwood, iris.

Beet Root
Delight in the earthy and spicy scents of bergamot, cedarwood and musk, wrapped with a hint of green leaves, orange blossoms and sea lily. Then sweet and fruity notes of fig, oleander and orange blossom join in this fragrant melody. Top Notes: Bergamot, green leaf, fig; Mid-Notes: sea lily, oleander, orange blossom; Dry Notes: cedarwood, warm wood, musk

Victory Garden
During World War II, Victory Gardens sprung up all across America with their crisp aromas of basil and sage. Walk a little further and a touch of citrus, violets and lavender appeared on the nose. And for good measure the warmth of cedar and mahogany added depth and dimension. Top Notes: Bergamot, petitgrain, basil; Mid-Notes: lavender, violet, crisp sage; Dry Notes: warm woods, cedarwood, mahogany

Orchard Blossom
When the orchard begins to blossom the delicious scents of fresh fruit can’t be far behind. Here Great American Scents starts with sweet apply, lush apricots and morning dew. Then delicate tiare flower joins in. And the warmth of orris and musk add a comforting finish. Top Notes: Apricot, apple, dew fruits; Mid-Notes: Apple blossom, tiare flower, stardust peony; Dry Notes: blonde woods, orris, musk.

Sunshine Grove
Come to the Grove and pick the sparkling fresh scents of citrus fruit with Great American Scents. And take joy in the uplifting fragrances of lemongrass blossom, sage and iris. Plus Great American Scents has added a whiff of intoxicating vanilla and musk. Top Notes: Orange, sage, clementine; Mid-Notes: lemongrass blossom, neroli, lily; Dry Notes: vanilla, iris, musk


For more information about Bountiful Garden, visit http://www.greatamericanscents.com, http://www.facebook.com/GreatAmericanScents or http://www.twitter.com/AmericanScents.

Jitterbug perfume oil from Opus Oils: fragrance review

"Plants that wake when others sleep. Timid jasmine buds that keep their fragrance to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about." It is in those enraptured words that Thomas More spoke of jasmine, the king of flowers, the narcotic essence emitted under the cloak of night seizing the senses and the imagination. For me it is the blossom of utter surrender, the very essence of feminity. It was not accidental that I devoted the Jasmine Series to an in-depth appreciation of this small white flower. Jasmine is the memory of summer evenings in the Mediterranean under a lush trellis, its sweetly intense, heady aroma putting a spell on me, filling the air with longing and the deep yet melancholic satiation that comes from realising that this is our one and only life and there won't be another...

We had announced the opening of Jitterbug Perfume Parlours by Opus Oils some time ago and it has indeed opened its doors a few days ago. Their Signature Fragrance is "Jitterbug" and if you are even marginally interested in jasmine, it is a must-try. At first I was rather sceptical: could an oil blend really capture jasmine the way I know it from the quality essential oils I collect and alternatively the jasmine fragrances I adore such as the indolic A la Nuit, the purple-hued Sarrasins with its civet whiff, the individual, spicy Jasmin de Nuit or the Venus flytrap that circulates under the name Jasmin Full by Montale? Yet, Jitterbug, without being as animalic as the above, weaves its own sweet web of seduction.
Lush, full-bodied, with the sweet interlay of what reminds me of exotic ylang ylang and a round sweetish finish of the gingerbread goodness of sandalwood, it is predomintantly about the king of flowers: jasmine in its heady glory.

"Jitterbug" the name can be used as a noun to refer to a swing dancer or various types of swing dances but also as a verb to refer to a dancer of swing. It comes from an early 20th-century slang term used to describe alcoholics who suffered from the "jitters". Cab Calloway's 1935 lyrics to “Call of the Jitter Bug” clearly demonstrate the association between the word jitterbug and the consumption of alcohol.
Kedra Hart, the perfumer responsible for the Opus Oils fragrances, must have been inspired by concepts of euphoric consumption of heady liquor that puts your mind in a spin and excites passions, but also of the novel by Tim Robbins Jitterbug Perfume in which jasmine plays an essential part in the creation of a perfume fit for the bucolic (and animalistic goat-shaped) Greek god Pan. Whatever it was, it made for a successful fragrance.



Jitterbug perfume, a rejoice for jasmine lovers, includes notes of jasmine, honeysuckle, lemon essence, orange blossom, beach found ambergris, blond tobacco and sandalwood.
The sample I got was in oil form (essences mixed in fractionated coconut oil) which lasts rather well and has average projection ~certainly better than most oils. It also doesn't stain which is a plus. Although I am not generally an oils type (I prefer the refreshing "swoosh" of a sprayer) oil lovers should definitely give it a try! It also comes as an Eau de Parfum spray which is tempting me as we speak for autumn and winter days when I want to recapture that summer evenings feeling.
Jitterbug is available online at OpusOils.com (click the picture under the "new release Jitterbug" on the home page), JitterbugPerfumeParlour.com or at Opus Oils’ Jitterbug Perfume Parlour located at 4959 Hollywood Blvd. Hollywood, CA 90027.
The signature fragrance retails for $30 - $120 & comes in various sizes: 1 Dram airport travel size roll-on, 0.5oz/15ml roll-on, 1oz/30ml & 2oz/60ml Eau de Parfum sprays, 3.3oz Bath & Body Oil, 6.7oz Body Lotion, 8.5oz Dead Sea Bath Salts & 8.5oz Body Butter.

Just because I was so pleasantly surprised by Jitterbug, I plan to review some of the other naughtily-named lines (Burlesque, Fetish, Absinthe) of fragrances by Opus Oils very soon!

Clip of Nina Simore singing Screaming Jay Hawking's hit "I put a spell on you" originally uploaded by Jamyginga on Youtube. There is also an interesting (and totally different) interpretation by Marilyn Manson too: click here to listen!
Pic of Eva Green courtesy of Makeherup.

Twin Peaks: Gres Cabochard, Aramis for Men and Lauder Azuree

It's been noted before that Aramis bears a distinct kinship with Cabochard (Grès) through the common perfumer behind both creations, namely the legendary Bernard Chant. But two other perfumes fall neatly somewhere between those two neighbouring meridians: Azurée by Estée Lauder and Bandit by Robert Piguet. Roughly, they can be likened to a family:

Aramis being the butch Godfather patriach, well behaved on the outside, dangerously brooding on the inside. Cabochard is the maternal force turning the neck (and therefore the head as well) in any which way she likes, while Azurée is the younger long-haired son driving fast without a licence and Bandit the rebel without a cause tomboy daughter who shuns panties in lieu of leather pants. They could have been The Sopranos, had the show been more stylish-oriented and retro glamorous. Or not. It doesn't matter, we can imagine.

Actually I'm cheating: Technically, the original sketch for Cabochard from 1959 was later deprived of its intensely opulent, romantic floral heart of India-reminiscing blossoms to serve as the core of the formula for Aramis (1965). For those who didn't know it, Azurée (1969) is also by Bernard Chant; a fresher interpretation of the Aramis idea given a luminous fruity topnote of refreshing bergamot, while still remaining resolutely herbal.

Chant was mad for chypres, skanky animalic or non; his Aromatics Elixir for Clinique is a seminal study on mossy herbal patchouli with a big rose lurking inside the bush. Azurée, albeit herbally green and chyprish, is softer than Bandit and lacks the acid green bite of the quinolines that compose the latter's leather note, thus making it more approachable of the four specimens, if largely unsung.

Comparing the two classic fragrances from Grès and Aramis, Cabochard and Aramis for Men respectively, I find myself contemplating how reformulation has changed perceptions: Cabochard has lost something of its intensely feminine mystery of floral chypre throughout the years (the ylang ylang and civet have been watered down), gaining a toughened, ballsy exterior which brings it even closer to the virile Aramis; the latter hasn't suffered major loses so far, although a reformulation in the mid-2000s altered a bit of its veneer.  
Aramis appears somewhat sweeter and mossier, underneath the male snagging quality with its pungent bitter leathery and artemisia green notes on top laced with cumin and a hint of ripeness emerging very soon ("body odour zone", "wild!", "unbelievable"). It has a more powdery-earthy vibe overall, with a sweet pleasing note in the drydown which lasts amazingly well. Cabochard is more screechy and strident nowadays with its synthetic castoreum and floral reconstitutions, yet still rather formidable compared to so many blah scents around. Both are abstract landscapes where everything is sophisticated, yet wild too; a cultural map of the sexual revolution unfolded through the span of a couple of decades.

Certainly not interchangeable, but similar enough to appeal to lovers of rough, fangly greens with mossy, leathery drydowns, this quartet of fragrances ~Aramis, Azurée, Bandit, Cabochard~ has a place in any perfume collector's arsenal. All fragrances are highly recommended as "shared" between both sexes irrespective of their advertising campaigns.

Notes for Aramis for Men:
Top: Artemisia, aldehydes, bergamot, gardenia, green note, cumin
Heart: Jasmine, patchouli, orris, vetiver, sandalwood
Base: Leather, oakmoss, castoreum, amber, musk

Notes for E.Lauder Azurée:
Top notes: Aldehydes, bergamot, artemesia, gardenia
Heart notes: Jasmine, geranium, cyclamen, orris, ylang-ylang
Base notes: Leather, patchouli, oakmoss, musk, amber

Notes for Piguet Bandit:
Top: galbanum, artemisia, neroli, orange
Heart: ylang ylang, jasmine, rose, tuberose, carnation
Base: leather, vetiver, oakmoss, musk, patchouli.

Notes for Gres Cabochard:
Top: aldehydes, bergamot, mandarin, galbanum, spice
Heart: jasmine, rosa damscena, geranium, ylang-ylang, iris
Base: patchouli, leather, vetiver, castoreum, oakmoss, tobacco, musk, labdanum, sandalwood.

Top photo Vogue US cover March 1969. Vintage ad from the 1980s for Aramis for Men.

Tauer Perfumes Zeta: fragrance review & draw

Andy Tauer, enfant gaté of the niche universe, and deservingly so, excells in three things in his fragrant sonatas: hesperidia, rose and resinous, hazy vapors smelling of earth and dust. Getting two out of three in his upcoming fragrance Zeta isn't half bad. After all, how could a letter named after the Greek alphabet be bad in my world? In fact Zeta hints at the beloved honeyed Tauerade (the base that permeates most of Andy's perfumes) and will therefore appeal even to those who are not on a first-name basis with either hesperidia or roses. But even non-fans should give at least a cursory sniff to Zeta because it's truly very appealing, an ode to summer, an elegy of sensuous pleasures.

Tauer wrote a haiku to preface the fragrance:
"Linden shade in June
Sweet rose petals and the light
of Syracusa"

Because of this Italian reference and of the Greek letter in the name, I like to evoke Grecani music in my mind: that is songs of the Griko minority (Italians of Greek extraction, going back to the 8th century BC when the island of Sicily and Southern Italy were colonised), a mix of the two Mediterranean languages, κατωϊταλιώτικα, rolling on the tongue with their richness of vowels. So does the perfume, bathed in the warm light reflected on ochre and sienna stucco walls...

Zeta may come as a surprise to those reading that it's built on citrus notes (bergamot, lemon and mandarin), as it is above all s-o-f-t. Not a sharp, pinching, screechy note in sight, no sourness either, a concern sometimes with fragrance including roses. After all, Andy explored the more high-pitched notes in Un Carillon pour in Ange, where he mollified lily of the valley into submission, exhaling its best with a touch of melancholy. Zeta on the contrary is a muted, soft, melding fragrance, tender like cats paws and happy like producing a smile on a newborn's face.

The linden blossom extract is a CO2 product, ensuring a high quality essence. The fragrance is almost flavoured by the linden, reminiscing me of edible linden or rose honey I used to buy when galivanting on the slopes of Zakinthos island in the Ionian Sea, rather than merely the delightful blossoms on the tree. The balance between sweet and citric is beautifully played: Zeta keeps it steady and nice without veering into sugary. It also doesn't produce any pee notes in my skin, as some honeyed fragrances are accused to, sometimes.

The plushness of the rose essence here exhibits both aspects of the natural flower: the citrusy fruitiness nuance of a mandarin compote, but also a greener nuance, closer to neroli or geranium. Rose by its nature comprises hundreds of molecules in its essence, presenting such diverging facets as leomngrass, artichoke or lychee. Flanked by orange blossom absolute, the lushness is self-evident: The honeyed note of the latter invests the former in a bath of light; like opening the French windows on a bright summer afternoon and letting the sunshine come make love to you like a Mediterranean lover.
The fragrance also includes notes of ylang-ylang (subtle, not all-out-tropical) and the all inviting base of orris, sandalwood and vanilla: Almost a blatant come hither! But still, the mood is happy and tender, never poseur. If you have sampled his Une Rose Chyprée or Cologne du Maghreb, you know what I'm talking about. The embrace is billowy-silky, lightly musky, somewhat dusty and sweetly milky, full of expensive raw materials: Zeta not only feels natural, it feels luxurious and it surely must be in formula to compound terms. This is something that cannot always be said for fragrances in current production and for that reason you should definitely sample it while current batches last; next year might bring changes to the raw materials that might slightly shift it.
Colour me impressed.

I have 3 deluxe sample sprayers to send to lucky winners. State in the comments what impresses you about Tauer's perfumes or what does not and what you'd like to see in his next fragrance.

Notes for Tauer Perfumes Zeta: lemon, bergamot, sweet orange, ylang, orange blossom absolute, neroli, linden blossom, rose, orris, sandalwood and vanilla.



Zeta will be available in mid-April 2011. Zeta forms part of the "Collectibles": low volume perfumery, limited by the availability of raw materials that may change from year to year, but not limited edition.
This concept allows Andy to create and present perfumes that he otherwise could not. The Collectibles will be housed in the classic pentagonal 50ml bottle but in green glass with a silver label. More info soon on Tauer Perfumes.

Picture of Sicilian paysage via Ezu/flickr (some rights reserved)
Disclosure: I was sent the sample vials by the manufacturer.

Caron Bellodgia: fragrance review & history

Much like Caron's Pour un Homme is a study in lavender, done in a simple equation style giving so much more in perceived value, so Bellodgia is Caron's study of carnations, but in all their rich depth. I am not surprised many perfume lovers like Bellodgia, even floral haters. Unlike its reputation for a soliflore (the fragrance that reproduces the scent of a single flower, carnation in this case) it's really complex and not simplistic. Loving carnations sincerely, I had to have this perfume in my collection. Carnations have a scent that is not really floral, but definitely spicy and richly intimate. Who in their right mind deemed them "humble" for offering is beyond me. That spiciness is the reason I like storks also; another not quite so chic flower with its intense skatole quota (Skatole is the predominant molecule in excrement, its name deriving from the Greek word for shit; oh well, nothing is as it appears.)

Bellodgia seems the definitive carnation scent exactly because of its spiciness and complexity of its quality essences (allegedly its top note alone comprises 100 essences, a claim I find rather hard to believe); yet it is really a somewhat orientalized spicy perfume, rich in peppery notes that give a jangling quality to begin with, then segue into carnation richness with nuances of vanilla and woods warmth, which lasts incredibly well. The current eau de toilette opens with a note of incense comparable to Caron's Nuit de Noel and Parfum Sacre. The clove tint is a living remnant of retro perfumery of the turn of the 20th century, when carnations were recreated with flower notes (ylang ylang and rose) and cloves. At the time the buoyancy of the combination that resulted in a soapy, inedible impression signified perfume, a sign of wealth and status.

 The heady, not so innocent kick of carnation is baroque-like in Bellodgia, like the sheen of brocade cloth, where every change of the light brings out hidden reflections in the fabric. Similarly, the longer this Caron perfume stays on, the more it gains in creaminess and powder facets, prone to be deemed "old lady smelling" by those consumers who dismiss by that derogative term anything that isn't reminiscent of cake batter or linen drawers. The classical turn can smell a bit dated, a fact that shouldn't deter the male of the species grabbing it in an effort to turn what can be predictable and ageing for one gender into an unexpected burst of good news for the other, if they dare. The vintage formulation of Bellodgia is perhaps guiltier in the rich powderiness and the floral impact (aka more ladylike), while the modern versions are sheeting everything in the envelope of warm skin-scent musks, but more so in eau de toilette than in eau de parfum, the latter more floral and denser overall and more lasting. It's easy to spot the difference: the latest bottles have a purple label (or are encased in the shagreen tubes that the whole line has progressed onto, this time in purple), the older ones sport a white one.
The extrait de parfum is smoother than both but the problems with sandalwood supply in later years have subtly changed its base note over the last decade.

 Created in 1927, Bellodgia was the result of the collaboration of Caron founder Ernest Daltroff and one-time dress maker Felicie Vanpouille, who lent her fashion expertise to the company's scents. Specifically it was inspired by Italy and its countryside of wild carnation fields, particularly the picturesque town of Bellagio, perched high above the incredibly beautiful Lake Como, it smells sunny yet deep. Full of classical drama? Indeed. It is perhaps its assertion and its projection that accounts with its popularity over past decades with American customers. Bellodgia is a masterful blend of floral essences, so it needs some time to be blocked and some repeated exposure for it to be really appreciated, much like a good Bordeaux. And for those who sorta like Bellodgia, but want a smooth spices carnation without the powdery floralcy? Try Caron's Tabac Blond. You'll thank me later...

  Notes for Caron Bellodgia: lily of the valley, rose, carnation, violet, jasmine, clove, musk, vanilla and sandalwood.

Worthy of a read: One woman's love affair with Bellodgia.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Caron news & fragrance reviews.
vintage ads via polyvore and  the non blonde

Amouage Memoir Man & Memoir Woman: new fragrances

The House of Amouage’s latest enigmatic Memoir fragrances for both man and woman explore the inseparable nature of beauty and depravity. In the words of the American writer Gore Vidal, “a memoir is how one remembers one’s own life” and in this fourth installment, the identity of Amouage Man first introduced in the series of narratives developed for the House’s Silver Jubilee, is revealed.
Inspired by the decadent mien and genius of the 19th Century French poet, Charles Baudelaire and the German philosophy of the doppelganger, Amouage Creative Director Christopher Chong, embarks on a deep and inquisitive voyage to unlock the unfathomable mysteries that reside within human nature. He expresses these influences by coalescing the provoking and potent ingredient of Absinth with other floral and wood accords to evoke a sombre mood. Incarnated from the introspective pages of Baudelaire’s volume of poetry Les Fleurs du Mal (Flowers of Evil), Chong’s Memoir Man seeks to uncover his identity by seeking the
underworld where he meets his other self and alter ego, the Black Swan. In this emporium of vice and damnation, the anguish, the unwanted, the dark, the haunting and the unmentionable are all beauty of the truth.Represented as the female gender in this story, the Black Swan is Memoir Woman; she is him and he is her. Hauntingly, they come together as one representing each other’s past, present and future in which they mimic each other’s sorrow and pain. They are separated and reunited by the memoir they share, which Chong constructs in these philosophical and mesmerizing fragrances by piecing together contradictory fragments of accords.

Memoir Man unmasks itself with a seductive green sensation of Mint pervading to an intoxicated journey of Absinth and Wormwood, which opens the door to the underworld of self discovery. The fragrance continues to express the complexity and philosophy of the Black Swan with the intricate richness of sophisticated Vetiver.
Memoir Woman manifests with a spicy fusion of Absinth to resonate the magical aura of the Black Swan. This transformation is enhanced by deconstructing the redolent Tuberose to its core and reassembling the note in a white floral accord with Lisylang and Orange Blossom. As Chong explains, “I wanted to create a haunting fragrance that is beyond the restriction of gender and one that is both hypnotic and bewitching. I articulate this aspect by increasing the dark
wood accord with cashmeran, sandalwood and patchouli supported by an animalic accord in the base to neutralise the gender difference.”
Resembling black fog rising from the wet cobbled streets of Europe, both bottles are made of black glass crystal graduating from a dark to a lighter shade with silver metal caps accentuated by a multi-faceted black Swarovski crystal. Memoir is presented in a silver-tone coffer with myriad shades of black to support the Black Swan feather motif and is available in 50ml and 100ml Eau de Parfum. The fragrances will officially launch on September 22nd.

NOTES FOR AMOUAGE MEMOIR
Memoir Woman
Category: Leather / Animalic Chypre
Top Notes: Mandarin, Cardamom, Absinth, Pink Pepper
Heart Notes: Pepper, Clove Bud, Opulent White Blossoms, Rose, Jasmine, Precious Dark Wood,Frankincense
Base Notes: Styrax, Oakmoss, Castoreum, Leather, Labdanum, Fenugreek, Musk
Memoir Man
Category: Leather / Woody Fougere
Top Notes: Absinth, Wormwood, Basil, Mint
Heart Notes: Rose, Frankincense, Lavender Absolute
Base Notes: Sandalwood, Vetiver, Guaiac wood, Amber, Vanilla, Musk, Oakmoss, Leather, Tobacco

info/notes via press release

Coty Wild Musk: Fragrance Review

There are few images more precious to an adult than one that involves angst-ridden teen years, when we spent our time snatching vintage stuff of our mother's wardrobe, coupled with a few of our dear father's, lining our peepers in black khol like some Siouxsie wannabe and riding the Coty Wild Musk shelves out of their inventory stinking up every place we went to in the process. But now that Wild Musk is becoming increasingly difficult to find (and a reformulation or two have been implemented to disfigure a little of that fresh raw face that smiled beneath the angled fringe that recalled Flock of Seagulls) we view it with the nostalgic melancholy reserved for bruises that are slowly fading into yellow, having pained us for so long we sort of miss them when they're gone.

Musk notes are experiencing a revival lately, especially vintage animalic stuff which growls a bit teasingly when you approach, and Wild Musk is among the very best in a field that is becoming crowded with more pretentious and more expensive upstarts. But what sets apart this inexpensive beauty apart is that there is a cozy barber-shop atmosphere about this floriental, hot towels and shaving cream paraphernalia on smooth skin, a little rose and sandalwood powder in the air as well. And yet this is a fragrance that although can be unisex it has a very cuddly quality about it. Gentle, yet bawdy, warm and unobtrusive, but with a flirtatious edge, it deserves to be carried into adultdom with no intersections along the way. Not to mention that there is a special synergy between this creamy scent and the smell of sweat, carrying itself into intimacy without vulgarity. Compared to Jovan Musk the similarity is there, although I find Wild Musk creamier, a little sweeter and softer, especially in the oil edition. Not "dirty" or spicy as Muscs Kublai Khan or Khiel's older oil, yet not sanitized "clean" like the plethora of white musk offerings around (from Musc Bleu to The Body Shop White Musk), Wild Musk with its great lasting power on clothes and its vanillic trail stands at the utopian crossroads between the two directions.

Wild Musk came out in 1973, just when Coty and Coty International were united after being sold to Pfizer & Co ten years earlier (Imprevu is another one which is a follow up after this take-over), issuing a handful of popular products including Styx, Sweet Earth, and Wild Musk fragrances and the Equatone beauty-treatment line. This is also the time when the production facility relocated from New York City to Sanford, North Caroline, thus heralding a new era for the brand.
Perhaps the most characteristic trait is how Wild Musk had been taken over in that time-frame by arty types and carried over as a small hint that underneath the existentialist ennui and their assertions that culture is going through an agonizing death they were sensitive, affectionate souls after all.

Notes for Coty Wild Musk:
A solid note of musk is accented by bergamot, lavender, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, amber and vanilla

The formula of Wild Musk by Coty circulated as both an oil and an alcohol-spray version. The oil is superior in aspects of smoothness, although the spray is not bad either. The newer version does bear a difference to the older, due to the substitution of the musk components for reasons of biodegradability (see Musk Series part 2 for more info on nitro-musks) which makes it significantly tamer and with a more alcohol-prominent top. Intermediary-age boxes of the Cologne concentrate spray carry the swoosh design in a single ribbon instead of the flou, hazy rendition that the newer ones have. The even older ones had a completely different graphic as depicted in the ad, some of which had a rectangle bottle with a red cap and label (similar to Musk Patchouli).Bottles of the latest edition are carried at Walmart, Target's and drugstores, while older versions circulate on online etailers and Amazon.

What about you? Did you wear musk fragrances when you were (very) young? What were your choices?

Three Cheers for Perfume Chemistry

Much as perfumery has often been the marketing story of virgins amassing jasmine petals at the crack of dawn in endless emerald fields on exotic lands (and it is a lovely image), some synthetic molecules created in the lab have irrevocably revolutionized the fragrance industry as we know it: Hedione, Galaxolide and Calone for instance have left a footprint as big as the Yeti’s in modern perfumery, accounting in some cases for a big percentage within a formula in and of themselves (see Trésor and Cool Water or the odd case of Dune for instance ~also the iconic fragrances touched by hedione).


Sometimes these molecules were arrived at years before they were popularised in mainstream compositions the consumer buys off the counter today: Calone for instance, which catapulted the "marine scents" trend in the 1990s, was patended as "Calone 1951" in as early as 1966 by the pharmaceuticals collusus Pfizer. Sometimes, on the other hand, new molecules are the very reason why specific styles of fragrances multiply like Gremlins: see the recent cases of Ambrox and synthetic oud.

Damascones and ionones have brought their own particular challenges and risk-taking through the course of the 20th century, ending in beautiful specimens (examples include Nahéma, Féminité du Bois, Nombre Noir). I have always had a soft spot for nitromusks myself, which I absolutely love in vintage creations due to their intimate and warm character, but of course science and the industry go on and we must adapt with the times...

I like to think that we’re upon a Brave New World in which the not-forgotten old artistry of naturals alongside the sleight of hand, that relies in the proper dosage of synthetics, will produce astounding and unprecedented results: Safraleine is a beautiful example, exactly because it brings on both spicy and subtly leathery facets to the fore with a restrained hand. We’re seeing a new sophisticated generation of aqueous and “ozonic” molecules too, away from the obvious “watermelon slap” of Calone: Scentenal (Firmenich), Cyclemone A and Floralozone (both IFF); for instance the latteris featured in otherwise earthy Vétiver Extraordinaire in Editions des Parfums Frederic Malle, where it juxtaposes freshness to the mustiness of the grass.

Alternatively, in some cases, modern technology aims to replicate retro effects which we used to miss due to depletion of the original and shortage of technical solutions. Let me mention some examples:
White Moss is an IFF patent to create a green-mossy accord at the base of some nouveau chypres such as Lauder’s Private Collection Jasmine White Moss. I think it’s an excellent addition to IFF's already impressive stable as it manages to bypass the “problem” of oakmoss restrictions (as inflicted by the industry-self-regulating body IFRA) while at the same time smelling as a proper green chypre base-accord should (comparable to the original Cristalle for instance).
Jovanol by Givaudan is creating the creaminess and intense lasting power which we had come to associate with the “creaminess” of sandalwood, its lactonic facet ~perfume speak for that warm, milky cozy, cuddly effect that older Orientals and woody fragrances with a preponderance on Mysore sandalwood used to have. The anisic note which we have come to associate with anisaldehyde and retro effects such as those in L'Heure Bleue is given new lease by Givaudan's captive Toscanol (which is in its turn substitutes the similar chavanol), used to mollify lavender compositions. And who can disregard Cashmeran, that tactile "cashmere woods" note embraced so lovingly by both mainstream fragrances (DK Cashmere Mist, Alien by Mugler, CKin2u, Fleur de Cristal by Lalique) as well as niche (The Beautiful Mind series Intelligence & Fantasy)? Its encompassing woody-musky-soft and sensual profile makes it a passe-partout ingredient.

I like one small detail about musks in particular, how the newest mascrocyclic Cosmone by Givaudan (a warm musk with a nuance of ambergris, smell in DelRae's Panache for instance) is taking on the expanse and beauty of the Cosmos to graft it unto its name. One better from the previous Galaxolide which was also astro-inspired in regards to nomenclature! And the ironic touch that it’s used in a fragrance bearing such a cunning name as Pi Neo, which means "new" in Greek. Isn’t perfumery dreamy?

picture of perfumer at Lever Laboratories in New Jersey, c.1950 via howstuffworks.com

Marc Jacobs Splash Cranberry, Ginger, Curacao: new fragrances

Marc Jacobs enriches his collection of Splashes, colognes to be splashed all over in matching containers of giga size, with three new entires: Cranberry, Ginger and Curaçao (inspired by the famous turquoise-coloured liqueur).

Cranberry (fruity floral)- perfumer Richard Herpin
Top: pink grapefruit, cranberry, bergamot, tangerine
Middle: ginger flower, honeysuckle, ozone, red currant
Base: vetiver, musk, woods

Ginger (spicy) - perfumer Yann Vasnier
Top: ginger, nutmeg, cognac
Middle: granadilla, geranium Bourbon, rhubarb
Base: sandalwood, amber, musk

Curaçao (fruity chypre)- perfumer Yann Vasnier
Top: blood oranges, bitter orange bigarade, lime, mandarin
Middle: violet, pear, apricot
Base: white moss, amber, musk, sandalwood

The collection hits stores in March, as a small pretaste of the summer cocktails that follow.

notes via press release

Acqua di Parma Colonia Ambra: fragrance review & draw

Tucked among the crags of western Portofino Promontory is the town of Camogli, which the novelist Charles Dickens once declared "the saltiest, roughest, most piratical little place. " Its sea dog mercenaries were sought after to rival the fleet of the ally city state Genoa. Ambergris, that adventure in a bottle for armchair mariners, is at the very core of inspiration for Colonia Ambra by Acqua di Parma, which I discovered this year and immediately liked.

via

That's not coincidental, as ambergris, the prized animal exudation from sperm whales for perfume, is a scent I could (and do) wear neat on my skin in alcohol tincture. Dedicated to a gentleman who loves to travel and explore new cultures, Colonia Ambra is part of the "ingredients themed editions" of the classic Colonia by Acqua di Parma (The other two editions include Colonia Leather and Colonia Oud, also good).

The mention of the other editions is not without merit; if you like Colonia Oud, this edition, Colonia Ambra, is like the oud base has been stripped off but the smoky woody goodness remains, layered rich and thick and nuzzling on the skin. The cypriol addition makes its presence known (as does patchouli) and the warm materials shift the direction into a woody oriental, milder and softer than Colonia Oud. I could very well wear this frequently; it's refined and lasting without elbowing anyone out of the way, yet it is no wallflower either.

Although the skeleton for the classic Colonia is one of stark freshness, the citrus fruits in Colonia Ambra have purposefully lost their sparkle in order to solely render a "lift" to the warm, musky aura of ambergris, musk and patchouli which are at the very nucleus of this composition. One can't really describe the notes one by one, as the blend is relatively tight and the overall effect is one much more refined than the allusion to Camogli would suggest.

Fans of amber and vanilla scents in men's fragrances should explore Colonia Ambra. This is marketed to men, but I find that it can be shared by women perfectly, like boyfriend jeans or a nice velvet jacket for evenings over one's chiffon top to keep the chill out.
The projection and sillage are moderate, but the staying power is very satisfying given the posh price.

Fragrance Notes for Colonia Ambra by Acqua di Parma:
Top Notes: Orange, bergamot, petit grain
Heart Notes: Rose accord, cypriol, virginia cedarwood, patchouli
Base Notes: Ambergris, sandalwood, cistus labdanum, vanilla, musk

This is what Acqua di Parma says about the scent of Colonia Ambra:

"An original, elegant fragrance inspired by the distinctive combination of two olfactory themes that are bursting with personality - the citrus notes of Colonia blend with deep sensuality of Ambergris, an ancient essence that is extremely rare and precious. Its characteristic scent is owed by the effect of the ocean and the wind, shaping and caressing this precious substance for many years before casting it ashore on the world’s beaches. The zesty citrus top notes of orange and bergamot evolves into a warm heart with cedar wood, rose and patchouli. Sublimated by the perfect harmony of Ambergris with sandalwood, warmed by the soft accents of vanilla, this new Eau de Cologne Concentrée reveals its unique personality in base notes of inimitable elegance and refinement."

This edition of Colonia Ambra comes as a natural spray of Eau de Cologne Concentrée, encased in a beautiful luxurious fabric-covered box, available in a 100ml or 180ml size.

One lucky reader will receive a 5ml vial by leaving a comment below this post, stating their views on fragrances inspired by animal essences. Draw is international and ends Wednesday 23rd midnight. 

Related reading on PerfumeShrine:
Ambergris: Definition and Musings on "Whale Vomit" (?) 
Perfumes with Ambergris, the mysterious "grey amber" note
Acqua di Parma: fragrance reviews & news
Frequent Perfumery Questions on Perfume Shrine
Cypriol/Nagarmotha: Smokiness of Wood