Sandalwood comes with all the trappings of voluptuous legends told off the cargo ships coming from the Indian peninsula. The myth of the imperishable sandalwood (so sacred even termites abstain from it) informs many an old tale in the East, where sandalwood is the oriental wood scent par excellence.
Among the many scents inspired by this mystical material Tom Ford's Santal Blush is a gorgeous, clean, dry and creamy sandalwood fragrance with an immediate message of sensuousness and no boozy aftertaste. Both beautiful and wearable, it was composed by talented perfumer Yann Vasnier.
The bet wasn't an easy one: Composing a sandalwood fragrance evocative of the Indian splendors of the Mysore variety, revered for centuries, but without actually using the raw material due to its regional restrictions on use as an endangered species, was a Herculean feat. The result however more than compensates, entering into sandalwood fragrances' Hall of Fame, a genre always popular with perfume lovers. If you like Tam Dao, but prefer a luxe rather than bohemian presentation, this is a refined take on that scented cult memory.
Dependent on skin Ph acidity, the opening spices (I pick fenugreek and cumin especially) might be acrid or nicely piquant and maple-y on the skin. You probably need a small skin test before you get out that credit card.
Creative Director Christopher Chong presents us the next chapter in the Amouage legend...Interlude Woman and Interlude Man, two aromatic stanzas steeped in the tradition of the Omani firm but with modern elements thrown in too.
Interlude Woman is a floral chypre fragrance projecting unity and serenity. Tart and bittersweet citrus notes of bergamot & grapefruit in the top notes allied to ginger and tagete create tension while rose, frankincense, jasmine, orange blossom, helichrysum, opoponax and sandalwood appear in the complex heart. This gives an unconventional combination of nut, coffee, kiwi, honey and agarwood. The base comprises sumptuous vanilla, benzoin, amber, sandalwood, oakmoss, leather, tonka and musk to provide the necessary warmth. The perfumer for Interlude Woman is Karine Vinchon Spehner . Top notes: Bergamot, Grapefruit, Ginger, Tagete Heart: Frankincense, Rose Absolute, Orange Blossom, Helichrysum, Jasmine, Opoponax, Nut, Honey, Kiwi, Coffee Base: Vanilla, Benzoin, Amber, Sandalwood, Agarwood, Oakmoss, Leather, Tonka Beans, Musk
Interlude Man is a spicy-woody fragrance opening on zesty bergamot, oregano and pimento berry oil, with conflucting intervals of notes of amber, frankincense, opoponax, cistus labdanum and myrrh. Eternal notes of leather, agarwood smoke, patchouli and sandalwood provide the anchoring base. The perfumer for Interlude Man is Pierre Negrin.
Frédéric Malle has a few tricks up his elegant sleeve for catering to jaded perfume lovers still. In a new project involving collaborating with various designers, offering his editorial skills and his liaisons with the best perfumers in the business, I learned that Malle is going to launch a line of eponymous designer scents that go off the beaten path. The first fruit of this collaboration is a fragrance for Dries Van Noten, one of the pioneers of the Antwerp "School of Six". The collaboration isn't that out of the blue as one would think: Van noten distributes fragrances in the Éditions de Parfums Frédéric Malle in his boutiques for some time now; Dries Van Noten par Frédéric Malle is the natural outcome.
Although the formula was being developed for the past year and was originally set for an autumn 2012 launch the perfectionism of Malle prevailed and the launch is set for February 15th. But that's not all.
Not only is the collaboration with a fashion designer news, it's also an innovation on the formula front, as the new Malle perfume is touted to be inclusive of a new, natural Indian sandalwood from a sustainable source. Indian sandalwood, for those who didn't know, had essentially been eradicated from perfumery in the last 20 years or so, due to concerns and regulations on the sustainability of the Mysore sandalwood. The news therefore is a leap of hope for the industry in general and sure to create a real peak of interest in the heart of every perfume fan out there. The new fragrance is an oriental woody, smooth and polished like the designs of Van Noten.
The composition has been undertaken by rising perfumer Bruno Jovanovich of International Flavors and Fragrances (IFF)
The fragrance notes for the upcoming Dries van Noten par Frédéric Malle are citron, sandalwood, guaiac wood, saffron, Spanish jasmine, tonka beans, Cashmeran/blonde woods, vanilla and musk.
As you can see the presentation of the bottle is also different than the rest of the Malle portfolio, as this is a separate line.
A lab batch sample is trickling my way and after a percursory sniff I'd love to offer it to one of our readers before its official launch. Please enter a comment with any of your thoughts on the Malle line or on sandalwood, or anything perfume related and I will draw a winner on Thursday.
New Tom Fords fragrances are going to launch officially very soon: Jasmin Rouge, Violet Blonde, and Santal Blush. After a successful course and some discontinuations (such as the compelling Velvet Gardenia), Tom Ford continues to expand his line, this time in a curious mix of Anglo and Franco languages in their names; perhaps in the case of Violet Blonde the implied wordplay is it might look like "violent blonde" to the casual onlooker, thus instigating a second, closer look. Given the steamy ads for Neroli Portofino, a best-seller in the line with matching body products, the anticipation for the new images is palpable. But let's see how the new fragrances smell and take a look at their respective bottles.
Violet Blonde is a complex scent with a nuanced character, woody and vanilla/benzoin laced, without too much sweet violet notes, but rather the powdery, soft scent of iris. The bottle designof Violet Blonde is the same as Tom Ford White Patchouli in the transparent glass used for Tom Ford for Men bottles. The square Tom Ford gold name-plate is given a twist into a rectangular gold name-plate that stretches across the bottom front of the bottle (as seen in the photo of the ad below) and in each corner of the plate a small gold bolt is added. Violet Blonde is available in 30ml and 50ml of Eau de Parfum and is part of the regular Tom Fod line (alongside Black Orchid and White Patchouli), available at major department stores.
Notes for Tom Ford Violet Blonde:
Top: Violet Leaf Absolute, Italian Mandarin, Baie Rose
Middle: Tuscan Orris Absolute, Tuscan Orris Butter, Jasmin Sambac, Sampaquita
Bottom: Benzoin, Cedarwood, Vetiver Absolute, Musk, Soft Suede
Santal Blush and Jasmin Rouge on the other hand belong to the Private Blend line by Tom Ford with the hefty price-tags. Tom Ford Santal Blush is a gorgeous, clean, dry sandalwood with an immediate message of sensuousness and no boozy aftertaste, beautiful and wearable, composed by talented perfumer Yann Vasnier. The bet wasn't an easy one: Composing a sandalwood fragrance evocative of the Indian splendors of the Mysore variety known from the past without actually using the raw material due to its regional restrictions on use. The result more than compensates, entering into sandalwood fragrances top list, always popular with perfume lovers. If you like Tam Dao, this is a refined take on that scented memory.
"Masala spices from India, Cinnamon Bark Oil Sri Lanka ORPUR, Cumin Seed Oil, Fenugrec Absolute and Carrot Seed Oil, are enriched by a floral blend of Jasmine Absolute, Rose Absolute and Ylang Madagascar. An infusion of richly textured Sandalwood captives, Australian Sandalwood, Benzoin, Agarbois and Skin Musks, transport the scent of Santal Blush to another level". It's highly recommended and I predict it will be supremely popular among the cognoscenti!
Tom Ford Jasmin Rouge is perhaps the weakest link, since it has a sweet character that can turn a bit plastic on some skins. Of all the jasmines I have recently tried it's the one that impressed me least because I had the highest expectations from. Still a new jasmin from a niche line always sends a kind of frisson down some spines!
Violet Blonde, Jasmin Rouge, and Santal Blush by Tom Ford are now available for testing at Saks New York and Bergdorf Goodman in NYC, though latter store mentions a September launch date for the US and a later date in October for the international market.The launch will coincide with the new make-up range and a new male grooming products launch.
sam•sa•ra Pronunciation: \səm-‘sär-ə\ Function: noun Etymology: Sanskrit saṁsāra, literally, passing through Date: 1886 : the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma
—Merriam-Webster On-Line Dictionary Definition.
Years later I’m still surprised by the paradoxical creature known as the original Guerlain Samsara marketing campaign (1989). Although the fragrance itself has now recognized as one of the diffusive bombshells of the 80s (partly contributed by women who unabashedly applied reapplied ad nauseum back then), the concept was infused with a subtle ironic tone which few had recognized to this day—tongues firmly planted in cheek from day one. In fact, the overall concept can be interpreted in so many different ways that, combined with the subsequent urban legends, I have no choice but hail the whole thing as a marvel. After all, how can a seemingly innocent tale of oriental incarnation points(slyly) to the truth about the eventual corporate fall of venerable perfumery house, in ways that I suspect few still fully comprehend?
Few may dismiss my claims until one realizes that the development process of Guerlain Samsara was a grand departure from its predecessors, for it was the first project which utilized fragrance marketing. (Yes, I understand how vulgar the “m” word may be to some Perfume Shrine readers—but read on.) Before Guerlain Samsara the fragrance formulation was the exact opposite: juice first, concept second. In fact, the developmental processes of classics such as Jicky, Mitsouko, Shalimar were not fully indebted to their romantic muses, be it personal anecdote (the British Jacqueline who couldn’t marry Aimé Guerlain), heroine of a novel by Claude Farrère (homage to the heroine of "La Bataille"), or the Mughal architecture wonder in Lahore, Pakistan (a.k.a. “the abode of love” in Sanskrit). No, the business model in the pre-Samsara era was akin to home-style pasta cooking: if it was any good the fragrance would stick.
However such a R&D method was not a mean of effective business management in the post-Opium era, especially since other designer fragrances such as Givenchy Ysatis (1984), Chanel Coco (1984), and Calvin Klein Obsession (1985) were dominating various markets while Guerlain Nahéma (1979) and Guerlain Jardins de Bagatelle (1983) flopped, especially in the North American market[1]. With this in mind Guerlain did two unusual things when developing the next massive launch: requested submissions from the Big Boys and initiated a project with a fragrance brief. Eventually the name Samsara was officially chosen as the name of the fragrance.
By now most people probably have seen the following PR write up: "Jean-Paul Guerlain was so moved by a woman whose inner beauty evoked a serene sensuality, he created a perfume just for her - Samsara. A fragrance that embraces and intoxicates, it is a seductive oriental made for a woman who conveys harmony and spirituality. Jasmine combines with the warmth of sandalwood, while powdery and vanilla notes magnify this blend". The statement above is almost a direct contradiction to the official definition of the Buddhist term! In fact, when Samsara was launched in Asia it received its share of puzzled looks: in my memory serves me well one of the spiritual writers from the Mandarin-speaking regions (林清玄) actually published articles about how the newest fragrance illustrated the lure of the material world and the emptiness it implies. (I read that article once back in 1990 so please do not quote me—still, I remember the author’s view on Samsara was less than stellar because of its supposed connection to the “harmonious reincarnation”.) To be fair Guerlain did not do itself any favour when it announced (upon its Asian launch at least) that the perfumer (supposedly Jean-Paul Guerlain), was “enlightened” after praying for hours in a remote temple…So why the whole fuss? If Guerlain wanted to appease its Asian market wouldn’t it be easier to call the scent Nirvana? (Remember, the grunge band didn’t its first album until 1988.) Well, the questions ultimately point to the basis of Buddhism: while explaining the paradigm of Buddhism is beyond the scope of this review I shall offer a part of my understanding since it ultimately points to an interesting truth.
One of the major issues that many religions need to address is the sufferings experienced by mankind: how can one elevate from the everyday spiritual sufferings? Legends have it that Buddhism originated when Prince Siddhārtha Gautama, upon meeting his subject for the first time, discovered earthly pains associated with aging, disease, and corpses. Since he father forbid the prince to study all spiritual matters the young man later set out to uncover the root of the problem. (It was prophesized upon Gautama’s birth that the prince would become either a great king or a great spiritual leader: naturally the king forbid his son to study spirituality.) Of course, Siddhārtha Gautama later gained enlightenment and became Buddha.
What Gautama supposedly envisioned during his meditation right before the enlightenment is worth repeating. Under a Bodhi tree, Gautama witnessed the human cycles and the consequences as a result: a perpetual motion of greed, jealousy, hatred, all of which are caused by ignorance. In fact, finding to starting point of such suffering is futile, much akin to finding the starting point of a circle. The cycle of such troubling human experience, of course, is samsara.
At this point you might be wondering how the first photo featured in this post fit into the grand scheme of things—it is, in fact, a samsara wheel, complete with all the states associated with the phenomenon. Of course, samsara is not merely reincarnation or karma: from my understanding the pains of repeating oneself due to karmic bonds and/or debts that allows the samsara cycle to continue...(for more information on the stages within a samsara wheel, as well as the meaning behind various depictions within the thangka above, please refer to the excellent interactive guide here.) Well, does the projected image much more akin to nirvana? Not exactly—in fact I think nirvana will be a fairly poor choice upon examining the official definition by Merriam-Webster:
nir•va•na Pronunciation: \nir-‘vä-nə, (,)nər-\ Function: noun Usage: often capitalized Etymology: Sanskrit nirvāṇa, literally, act of extinguishing, from nis- out + vāti it blows — more at wind Date: 1801
1: the final beatitude that transcends suffering, karma, and samsara and is sought especially in Buddhism through the extinction of desire and individual consciousness 2 a: a place or state of oblivion to care, pain, or external reality
The real essence of nirvana isn’t the equivalent of an oriental heaven, full of exotic pleasures. (Such earthly thoughts create more earthly delights until the karmic force runs out, remember?) Instead, nirvana is the cease and the decease of earthly desires, thereby wiping out samasara. All of which makes nirvana, by definition, an indescribable state—since nirvana is beyond the use of the five senses or even the duality-driven state of the human experience. Yet, Buddhism advocates that such surrender is merely a choice to go beyond the transient entertainment of the human experience and realize that the greater truth is the integration of everything in life—thus can only be experienced, not said in words since describing the state requires choosing one’s words, thereby separating some experiences from others [2]. In the end, I suppose Guerlain can’t pick a name that implies the cease and the decease of the consciousness!
Aside from the incoherence of between the projected image and the name the olfactory theme of Guerlain Samsara couldn’t have been more appropriate. Jasmine and sandalwood, aside from producing a sensual oriental alliance when expertly combined, actually capture the imagination of many Asian countries despite the cultural differences within the regions. While Helg has kindly explored the use of jasmine in perfumery in ways that I can never imagine in her excellent jasmine series, it’s worth noting that to many Asians the flower serves as spiritual shorthand of the various cultures within this region—there’s more to jasmine than, for instance, the vital ingredient in the classic jasmine tea. For instance, the iconic Mandarin folksong “Muo Li Hua” (茉莉花), taught in Chinese elementary schools as soon as the second grade, becomes the symbol of Asian aesthetics. (It is even used by Puccini as a theme in Turandot, most prominently in the middle of Perché tarda la luna? in Act I. More recently the famed Chinese director Zhang Yimou had used it liberally when directing various events related to the Beijing Olympics.) I’ve heard of many versions of this melody and to demonstrate the phenomenon I have a YouTube concert highlight featuring the Vienna Boys Choir (the pronunciation and intonation are quite spot on, by the way). I think all this indicates how the jasmine has become to represent oriental aesthetics.
Jean-Paul Guerlain’s source of inspiration might turn out to be different from a Buddhist temple after hours of meditation. Michael Edwards reported in Perfume Legends: French Feminine Fragrances that Jean-Paul was set out to seduce Decia de Powell, an English woman who shared his passion for equestrianism. Upon being asked what fragrance would she like to wear, Decia supposedly asked for a concoction of jasmine and sandalwood as far back as 1985—and the final result supposedly contained up to 30% of sandalwood extract, one of the precious perfumery ingredients due to the diminishing population of the sandalwood tree and its slow-growing nature. (Jean-Paul also added, among many other things, Sandalore in order to create a powerful sandalwood effect.) But the perfumery industry can readily reveal contradictory stories and this is where Samsara’s story starts to take on a colourful spin: did Guerlain ultimately picked Jean-Paul’s submission for Samsara?
While nearly all official Guerlain PR material back up the master perfumer fully for years the perfumery industry members whisper among themselves that Guerlain Samsara might have been the first Guerlain fragrance created by an outsider. (Quel horreur! C'est absolument incroyable!) The story is even more bizarre when CNN reported nearly three years ago that nose Jacques Chabert was the nose behind Guerlain’s Samsara (and Chanel's Cristalle)…, further adding confusion and complexity to the urban myth…
Of course, Guerlain isn’t completely innocent in this regard: when Mathilde Laurent joined Cartier a few years ago the creator Shalimar Eau Légère (2003) strangely became Jean-Paul Guerlain after the master perfumer supposedly “optimized” the fragrance with citrus oils such as bergamot according to the Guerlain PR team. (How can the original be short of hesperidic top notes is still beyond me.) Champs- Élysées (1996) might have received a similar treatment since the olfactory strokes [3] are a bit different compared to the classic Jean-Paul Guerlain creations. (My guess would be Dominique Ropion after sampling Une Fleur de Cassie by Frédéric Malle, though the depth of the latter is unquestionably better honed.) Mostly interestingly, many Guerlain sales associates are still taught that L’Instant de Guerlain (2003) was created by a Guerlain family member despite the fact that Maurice Roucel was officially credited as the nose behind the project—the training documents supposedly indicated otherwise in some cases... Sure, many people have attributed Guerlain’s recent perfumery downfall from grace to the corporate greed of LVMH—but I feel that there must have been something wrong in the first place that caused the family to sell the corporation to the conglomerate. After all, as opposed to the Givenchy takeover (hostile in nature by all accounts) LVMH bought the brand upon years of mismanagement. I don’t believe for a second that it was simply a case that someone spending too much on guaranteeing the supply of costly essences, not after knowing the factors behind the failure of Nahéma, for instance. Management problems existed before the LVMH takeover—it wasn’t simply a matter of under finance that plagued many French luxury firms.
Years ago I read a short paragraph that ended up saying more to this day than many sources could articulate. Cathy Newman, a reporter for the National Geographic and the author of "Perfume: The Art and Science of Scent", once interviewed a noted industry member. While the man didn’t go into the specifics he indicated that the Guerlain family was a group of “octogenarians” who constantly “squabbled” over money and other matters. The traditional Guerlain management structure used to dictate the separation to duties among siblings and/or cousins, which potentially created strains even during fragrance formulation (as Jean-Paul Guerlain said during some interviews) as the cost of material may exceed the limits imposed by the other departments… Please don’t get me wrong: I’m not indicating that the Guerlain legacy less than it should have been—but to say that the family dynamic was a smooth sail and placed the LVMH acquisition squarely to the lure of the global corporation was not exactly correct either. Guerlain got sold not because the audience didn’t get the fragrance masterpieces—Guerlain got sold because the namesake family couldn’t identify the effective management strategies. (Interestingly enough, LVMH is still looking for ways to properly manage the Guerlain portfolio, as many perfumistas will sadly tell you. I suppose history does repeat itself.)
So the fragrance that was released 100 years after the launch of Jicky said so much more with its name than it should when the Sanskrit word originally described the sadness associated with karmic bonds: suppose Samsara also indicated all the emotions that the Guerlain (corporate entity) must have gone though over the centuries?
Fragrance-wise Samsara is arguably beyond just a simple combination of jasmine and sandalwood. Dr. Luca Turin once commented how the classic Guerlain compositions used quite a bit of Provençal herbs such as thyme and rosemary: Samsara subtly opens with lemon and tarragon, although the jasmine-sandalwood alliance can be strongly felt from the get go—making the bouquet largely powdery with a 80s lilt. (Peach is also mentioned as a top note in some sources, although to me it isn’t a prominent player—at least not in the famed Mitsouko context.) As the scent progresses ylang ylang further supports the jasmine idea with a spicy touch, concurred by carnation and rose. The overall aesthetic is round and smooth—as if invisible hands are arching the elements into concentric spirals, leaving an interesting sillage—sophisticated but strong-willed before the fragrance settles into the typical Guerlain balsamic-amber base with the aforementioned sandalwood as the main lead.
(I hate to say this…but I wonder more than once if Catherine Deneuve used Samsara during the filming of Indochine, for the complex love story can certainly be described as heavily karmic in nature![4] )
As for the famed packaging Michael Edwards reported that the pagoda-shaped bottle was in fact inspired by a Cambodian dancer statue displayed at Musée Guimet: the legs forms the outer shape of the bottle as the head forms the stopper…(no prize for guessing why red and gold are chosen as the colours).
Helg talked about how Guerlain’s model profiling in its ads and her theory certainly bears some interesting truth when considering the following ad:
So I urge everyone to re-examine this creation more than a blast from the past—the stories behind the creation itself are more than what one can bargain for!
Notes for Samsara by Guerlain: jasmine, ylang ylang, narcissus, sandalwood, iris, tonka bean, vanilla
Samsara is available wherever Guerlain perfumes are stocked. Two " discontinued "flankers that bear no olfactory relation are Un air de Samsara and Samsara Shine.
[1] Although the concept would be considered very foreign to the non-French speakers, Guerlain’s problem with the North American market might also have to do with its refusal to deliver extra sales incentives, a practice that was commonplace in North America. In short, I don’t believe it’s simply the diffusive juice that ultimately caused the failure of a juice: after all, as we all know a terrible juice can be quite profitable if managed properly (much to the horror of perfumistas). [2] I’m not a Buddhist and an even lousier student in religious matters: my little write-up on Buddhist terms only serves as an illustration to the terms associated with this fragrance. [3]Similar to writers and painters perfumers (especially the established ones) do have their olfactory styles, mostly due to their preferred ingredients and aesthetics. People who are highly trained can even conduct personality tests based on the olfactory signatures. According to Sophia Gorjsman the perfumers actually recognize each other’s olfactory signatures upon smelling a fragrance. [4]The Tale of Genji, the world’s oldest novel by Murasaki Shikibu, certainly attribute the protagonist’s often futile (and nearly incestuous in some cases) relationships with various female leads as deeply karmic.
What does "creamy" mean to you in relation to fragrance? Is it the rich, sundae vanilla feeling you get while licking a cone, the thick yet refined taste of a bavaroise or is it the beachy tropical scent you get from a lush floral perfume? And what about lactonic? You hear this term brandished a lot, especially in relation to vintage fragrances, but where does it lead you? What does lactonic mean and how do you differentiate between it and "milky"? And, oh gods, where does "butyric scent" come into all of this? Let's try to define some confusing perfume terms on Perfume Shrine once again.
Creamy fragrances are more in reality more straight-forward than you'd expect: The term "creaminess" usually denotes a rich feeling, infused with silky, sensuous and lightly or more heavily sweet notes which may derive from soft vanilla, sandalwood, or coconut and sometimes from rich, lush florals that naturally have nectarous qualities, such as jasmine or honeysuckle. Vanilla in itself is usually described as creamy: Indeed Vanilla tahitensis pods have a complex odour profile, with notes of raisin, musk, cherry, lactones and anisic aldehydes. Often tropical florals combine with coconut and coconut milk to produce that suntan lotion feel that we describe as "creamy". These would also fall under the umbrella of "exotic", as many people's vision of exotica is tan skin, dark almond shaped eyes and the scents that are exuded in meridians where leis are worn around the neck at all occasions. Delta jasmolactone exhibiting a coconut facet (and a creamy tuberose basenote as well) makes it a natural match for this sort of thing.
Fragrances of this type include Juste un Rêve by Patricia de Nicolai, Datura Noir by Serge Lutens, Champaca Absolute by Tom Ford Private Line, Gai Mattiolo Exotic Paradise LEI (coconut, vanilla and exotic flowers) and Jil Sander Sun Delight (with frangipani and vanilla). Ylang & Vanille in the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria line is a small gem of creamy floralcy: the naturally piercingly sweet scent of ylang is given a meringue treatment via fluffy vanilla and the eau de toilette concentration never allows it to become cloying or suffocating. Even the dicontinued Sensi by Armani was great in this game of uniting flowers with soft, tactile woods.
Almond fragrances when air-spun and given the dessert, gourmand treatment with lots of heliotropin, instead of the more medicinal bitter almond iterations (as in Hypnotic Poison by Dior), can fall under the "creamy, soft" spectrum as well: Try Heliotrope by Etro or the very friendly Cinema by Yves Saint Laurent. A popular choice in the genre is Comptoir Sud Pacifique's Vanille Amande. Their silky veil is soft, enveloping, tactile. When coupled with a lot of vanilla and some musk they can become almost a visible cloud around you, such as in Ava Luxe Love's True Bluish Light. On the same page, Lea by Calypso St.Barth is a cult choice and Sweet Oriental Dream by Montale (with its shades of loukhoum) is among the best in the niche line. Tilt the axis into woody-creamy and you get Sensuous by Lauder; a literal name for once.
An elegant version of this genre, holding the sugar at an optimum medium, is Eau Claire de Merveilles by Hermes; a more mainstream one Omnia by Bulgari. Men are not forgotten in this field: Pi by Givenchy and Rochas Manin the phallically siggestive rocket-bottle are great examples of creamy fragrances for men.
Among modern molecules, Methyl Laitone (patented by Givaudan, from "lait", French for milk) is a powerful aroma-material with a diffusive, milky, coconut-like coumarinic odour character. Its use as a milk note in soap formulae is now a given, but it also aids in providing a creamy scent to perfumes too.
It's detabateable whether creamy and milky are the same, though: The difference isn't just a game for scholars. The condensed milk sweetness and "fattiness" of certain gourmand fragrances, such as the latest caramelic benjoin-rich Candy by Prada, can evoke visions of both clotted cream and milk desserts and rice-puddings, melding the two notions into one. Jo Malone utilizes the cozy, familiar note of condensed milk in black tea in herTea Collection Sweet Milk. Kenzo Amour goes the way of a rice pudding: it's lighter than a pannacota, and has a steamy rice note in there too. Organza Indencence by Givenchy has a custard-like base, sprinkled with cinnamon, while Saffran Troublant by L'Artisan Parfumeur is like a milk dessert hued a vivid crocus-yellow by saffron served in bowls dressed in sturdy suede. Flora Bella by Lalique hides a milky facet under the soft, clean, fabric-softener violet core, while Etro's Etra is a milky floral as pretty and polite as this genre gets.
Sandalwood from the Mysore region in India in particular is famous for having a rich, satisfying milky scent. But smell a pure sandalwood-focused fragrance, such as Santal Blanc by Serge Lutens and see how a "milky scent" can be subtler, drier, less sugary than "creamy"; more opalescent than fatty glistening. Contrast now with a heavy bad-ass sandalwood perfume (boosted by powerful synthetic Polysantol), such as Samsara by Guerlain, and you are at a crossroads: that one's creamy rather than milky, va va voom sexy and enhanced by the richness of jasmine. Smell a virile, masculine sandalwood, ie. Santal 33 by Le Labo and you're back at square one; not a hint of cream in sight. No single ingredient can sattisfyingly give the full effect, obviously.
Take things too far on the dairy scales and you end up with "butyric". The word comes from the Greek for butter: βούτυρον/butyron. Usually butyric smells are due to either a single molecule (butyric acid) or, in the case of butyric esters, to part of a molecule. Butyric refers to a sharp cheesy scent, reminiscent of parmesan cheese (or even vomit and really stale, stinky socks; take your pick!), but some butyric esters, such as ethyl 2 methyl butyrate which has a fruity facet like pear or apples, are used in perfumery (and in the flavouring industry as well). And yet, and yet... irony has a place in perfumery; it's the buttery taste of tuberose-drama-queen Fracas by Piguet that makes it the unforgettable classic that it is!
"Lactonic"however is specific perfumery jargon. It's not just a descriptor, hence I differentiate. (Though the feeling can read as "milky" or "creamy" too, as you can see further on!) Picture lactonic as a subgroup of the greater milky/creamy continent, reached through specific vessels (called lactones). Lactonic fragrances derive their name from Latin for milk (lac, hence lacto- etc.), and lactones are cyclic esters, a very specific chemical compound group, uniting an alcohol group and a carboxylic acid group in the same molecule. Therefore describing a fragrance as "lactonic" transcedes mere smell evocation and enters the spectre of analytic chemistry.
Why the confusing name, then?
Because they're produced via the dehydration of lactic acid, which occurs in...sour milk (and is found also in some dairy products such as yoghurt and kefir etc). You could begin to see the connection if you get the brilliantly synthetic Rush by Gucci, a lactonic modern chypre rich in a patchouli-vetiver-vanilla base and squint just so; a hint of sourness is its crowning glory. This is also the weird baby-vomit "note" in the iconoclastic Le Feu d'Issey (possibly accounting for the fragrance's commercial flop!).
Far from smelling sour, however, lactonic fragrances fall under 2 main schools, according to which of the most popular lactones they're using: milk lactone/cocolactone (i.e. 5,6-decenoic acid) or peach lactone.
A classic example of the latter is Caron's Fleurs de Rocaille or Mitsouko by Guerlain; Mitsouko's infamous peach-skin heart note in particular is due to undecalactone (referred colloquially as "aldehyde C14"). Peach lactone can sometimes veer into coconut territory smell-wise, thus giving rise to "creamy" descriptors! Indeed gamma-nonalactone is the popular coconut additive in suntan lotion.
On the other hand, demethylmarmelo lactone has a milky, butter cake scent, as does delta decalactone which has facets of coconut.
Milk lactone or cocolactone has a silky, balsamic almost burnt butter odour which pairs exceedingly well with white flowers (jasmine, gardenia), as it is reminiscent of naturally occuring jasmolactones, hence its use in white floral blends. Dis-moi Mirroir, in the more esoteric Mirroir line by Thierry Mugler, is a characteristic example showcasing a white flower top (orange blossom) and a white floral heart (lily) plus peachy lactones (smelling of apricot and peach) flying over a milk lactone base, producing a milky-fruity floral.
Massoia lactone is an individual case, as it produces a note that is poised between woody and coconut; it is what will be featured in the upcoming Santal Massoia by Hermès in the more upmarket Hermessence line.
But not all lactones are created equal: the whole group of octathionolactones has a fungi smell, reminiscent of the refrigerated mushrooms aroma of some white flowers, such as gardenia and tuberose.These flowers also exhibit creamy facets side by side, so the whole issue of describing a fragrance is far more complex than expected; as with most things in life, it all depends on context and proportions!
Related reading on PerfumeShrine:
If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:
Essentially-Me.co.uk is an artisanal perfume company founded by Alec Lawless, whose book Artisan Perfumery or Led by the Nosewe had reviewed on Perfume Shrine a while ago. The beauty of the company and the site is that you can order your own supplies and play around with real, genuine, authentic essences to see what the heck they really do smell like! You never knew what's the difference between Virginian and Atlas (Moroccan) cedar? They have both. You read about Guaiacwood (Paraway lignum) and get confused? Now you won't be anymore. You have never in your life come across broom or boronia? You have your chance to revel in those unique and paradisial smells. You hear about orris (the rhizomes of iris) and how it's super costly (and apparently not used in your commercial perfume)? For 44.99 pounds you can get your very own with a very high 16% irones ratio (this is the percentage of the smelly molecules in it) and use it to enhance your scents with the wonderfully earthy, powdery, delicate aroma that was prized since antiquity. Same for link lotus absolute, osmanthus, labdanum, oppoponax, oakmoss and so many others....
Being a purveyor of fine essences through his and his ex-wife's company Aqua Oleum, Alec Lawless was in close proximity with good materials for quite a long time. At some point he decided to blend his own scents for sheer pleasure more than their aromatherapy value (and who can blame him, it's ever so inviting to mix those delectable materials!) and, what have you, he seems like he knows a bit or two about the art. Alec uses his own copyrighted "system" of describing and differentiating between notes, baptizing them Heart (the main idea, the "family" classification if you please), Nuance (the character of the composition, the central cord) and Intrigue (the accessory notes that pique your interest and provide the desire to explore further, top notes and nosegays, so to speak).
The line currently includes 10 fragrances made from naturals with only about 1% of synthetics*, of which I am reviewing 5 today (you will find a link for more reviews of the rest on Scenthive at the bottom)
White Blooms Heart: delicate white floral Nuance: soft green balsam Intrigue: warm woody.
If you have never smelled real essences from flowers you're missing on a whole brave world: the essences vibrate with a Kirlian aura, emitting their life-force on paper, on skin, wherever. Those dregs in perfume bottles that pass as floral fragrances these days do not possess even one iota of that kind of vibracy. White Blooms is expectedly an orgy of lovely flowers, of which orange blossoms, jasmine and the sweet honeyed mantle of beeswax comprise the very core. It's awfully pretty ~without being all "demure" like so many office scents are~ and it is positively optimistic: sunny, feminine, ambrosial, wonderful. "White Champac and orange blossoms cover a faint hint of pink lotus and jasmine. Delicacy is maintained by using absolutes of hay and beeswax to impart soft warm green notes, which are, in turn supported by a base of sandalwood, frankincense and a light vanilla courtesy of benzoin resin".
Let it be said that I am not an "amber person". I mentally picture those people ooohing and aaahing over the densest of amber fragrances as big, "wooly" personalities with terrific social skills, engulfing hugs and always a virtual pattisserie of things to offer in the remisses of their cupboards. Although I don't stand small myself, I am certainly none of the above and my house-warming gestures usually involve on-the-spot preparing of little amuse-bouche (Better not shop for sweet things if no-one is scheduled to appear on my doorstep I tell you!). Having said that, most ambers usually strike me as pleasant on the one hand, but too embulient, too "expressive", too sweet somehow; and usually they scare the hell out of me with their gigantic sillage-d tentacles! To its credit this Amber follows the prime example of Lutensian vision and adds a fat dollop of herbal and spicy elements that manage to give a culinary aspect (the housewarming bit of something roasting in the background) while it simultaneously gives a lightly cool aspect through frankincense and melancholic myrrh (essences I am especially drawn to). It makes me feel comfortable without having that heavy, petting aunt with the auburn curly hair insisting I tell her "all about my classmates and my boyfriends" and I can finally relax... "Subtle hints of spice, mint, caraway and thyme evolve on the skin to reveal a floral heart of jasmine, lavender, rose and clary sage. The base is provided by labdanum, frankincense, sandalwood and myrrh with hints of vanilla and patchouli".
There's nothing more difficult than creating a "marine" or "ozonic" fragrance with natural materials. I believe it's nigh impossible because that family strongly depends on the popularised synthetics of the 90s. Trade Wind manages to just skim Charybdis, by opting to borrow the warmer elements of earth with its rooty aroma (very discernible vetiver and woods) and folding them into saltier things (seaweed compliments vetiver well, both sharing a salty nuance). The result is not exactly a marine and it's not screechily persistent and piercing like most marines are, which is a good thing. "Seaweed absolute with mint and violet leaf conjure up the ocean whilst galbanum resin, sandalwood, and vetivert hint at the soft warm earth. Carried in the breeze are faint impressions of orange flowers, linden blossoms, hay and nutmeg
Souk Heart: Precious woods Nuance: rose and spice Intrigue: Incense.
No prizes for guessing this is a Middle-East and India-inspired fragrance: the very elements comprising it, from rose to incense to spice, suggest the East and its bazaarss. Perhaps because it's such a traditional concept or because Lutens has spoiled me rotten with his own mirage of Felix Arabia with dried fruits and dirty armpits I wasn't impressed as much. "The haunting smells of the spice markets, the Arab love affair with the rose, fragrant gardens, precious woods, resins and incense. Sandalwood, frankincense and Cedar of Lebanon are blended with balsams to provide a complex woody heart. Rose Maroc, jasmine, orris and neroli bring floral tributes from surrounding lands. Citrus fruits, herbs and oriental spices bring nuance from the market stalls and the ancient mysterious opoponax suggests incense with help from frankincense and sandalwood".
Tangos Heart: violet leaf, tobacco Nuance: Jasmine, rose Intrigue: guaiacwood.
"Needs to be worn by a dark haired woman day or night if you have the confidence" is how Tangos is presented on the site. The thing practically beckoned me, calling my name. Dark hair, check. Confidence, check. Day or night wearing, check (I wear whatever whenever). Finding out it was originally made for a friend from Argentina based upon her choices of aromatics was titillating. The reality is it smells of many things that amalgamate into a musky, rose-tobacco mix with prominent florals in the framing. There is a bitter and also a sweet element antagonising each other and I feel like it should have been a little more feathered out so as to let the essences project more clearly ~this happens after a couple of hours on skin, I'd love it to be so from the start. "A deep green sultry forest (oak moss, violet leaf, vetivert Bourbon and tobacco) slowly releases complex floral bursts (jasmine, ylang, rose Otto, geranium Bourbon, vanilla and rose Maroc) with hints of herb and spice (hay, coriander, tonka bean)."
Please visit Scenthive for more reviews on the fragrances by Essentially Me.
I have a set of all the fragrances (minus the quantity I tried) for giving away to a lucky reader!
*Disclaimer on account of Essentially-Me.co.uk: "Synthetic fragrance compounds usually have petrochemical-derived ingredients. The ones we use are about 50% petrochemical-derived, with the rest made up of turpentine derivatives (that is, synthetic molecules created from chemically processing alpha-pinene which is extracted from pine trees)”
Body Painting Jack O'Kundalini taking "Jack in the Pulpit" by Geogia O'Keefe as the starting point via livingbrush.com. Tangoing couple via cam.net.uk
In the interests of full disclosure we have been sent samples of the line.
Perfumers Lucien Ferrero and Thomas Fontaine worked around original olfactory themes of "Vetiver" and "L'Eau Neuve" by Lubin and produced two versions of each: Bluff and Itasca are inspired by Lubin's Vetiver , while Figaro and Inedite are inspired by L'Eau Neuve. The bottles reprise the design of the originals with stylised colour schemes and relief.
Lubin Bluff
A racy perfume, deceiving by its appearances : topped with lime, bergamot and combining nutmeg and cinnamon, Bluff is first fresh spicy and woody. Then it blossoms into a sensual, almost greedy, heart of clary sage, iris and cola nuts. Its finally lands on a background of cedar, patchouli sandalwood and vanilla. Top notes: Lime, Bergamot, Nutmeg, Cinnamon. Heart note: Sage, Iris, Coconut Cola, Nectarine Base Notes: Vetiver, Cedar, Patchouli, Sandalwood
Lubin Figaro
Bold and seductive like Beaumarchais, Figaro take as its inspiration liberties with the conventions. Its Vetiver and fig heart notes is embellished with apple, plum and clover. The coriander leaves gives the green effect and ocean pine provides a marine aromatic facet . The woody wake finally combines amber, vetiver, sandalwood, tonka bean and balsam of Styrax. Top Notes: Grapefruit, Bergamot, Pine Heart Notes: fig, apple, plum, clover Base notes: Vetiver, Styrax, Sandalwood, Tonka Bean
Inédite by Lubin
First, a rosewater, innocent and fresh as a mandarin of Sicily, Inédite is spicy and sweet, with a floral wake of heliotrope, lilac, rose and nectarine. Soon the vanilla, iris and patchouli reveals the spices. Sensual Circassian, rubbed with cinnamon, pepper and coriander, cedar and musk, make it even more voluptuous. Top Notes: mandarin, bergamot, pepper and pink peppercorns. Heart Notes: Coriander, Lilac, Rose Base Notes: Vanilla, Iris, Patchouli, White Musk
Lubin Itasca
The Forest of America. The Mississippi River rises in Lake Itasca, in the heart of Minnesota. Itasca by Lubin evokes America's deep forests, those of Algonquin Indians and pioneers. The Minnesota red pine accompanies them on a background of amber, incense, Java vetiver and Texas cedar . First refreshed by juniper berries, then it develops a spicy harmony of wood combined with cloves and nutmeg. Top notes: Neroli, Mandarin, Juniper Berries Heart note: Clove, Sage, Nutmeg, Geranium Leaves Base Note: Red Pine, Vetiver, Amber.
The new Lubin fragrances come in Eau de Parfum 75ml spray bottles for 85 euros each.
From the effulgent Byzantine mosaics of Ravenna as seen in the warm light of noon to the incadescent Scrovegni Chapel frescoes by Giotto in Padua during the cool silence of a winter afternoon, Italian art is infused with the resplendent light of the South which never fails to draw a beatific expression out of me. That golden light has been captured in a fragrance called Cimabue by independent niche perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz. Cenni di Pepo (Giovanni) Cimabue (c. 1240 — c. 1302) was the artist to bridge the opulence of Byzantium with the insight, knowledge and brilliance of the Renaissance and counted Giotto among his students. Cimabue, the fragrance, is characterised by Dawn as "my Saffron note étude" but it provides a porthole into her greater agilité in various techniques. It's no coincidence that Dawn began her career as a painter progressing to work at Boston's famed ESSENSE Perfumery and imbuing her perfumes with fine art principles (texture, color, line, light, shape, and expression) in her own line, Parfums des Beaux Arts, LLC.
Cimabue (pronounced chim-a-boo-way, according to Dawn) had first come to my attention through a perfume enthusiast and online friend who sent me a sample some time ago. I recall I was favourably impressed and left it at that. But now that the Saffron Series has caught up with me, what better time to revisit and explore the intricasies that weave throughout its composition? Cimabue materialized out of love: the love of a perfumer to her clients. When a lover of Safran Troublant sent a request to Dawn to make something comparable, Dawn set out to create Cimabue. Yet Cimabue is not a rip off Safran Troublant, but rather a spicier, richer, enigmatic interpretation that spans the spectrum from honeyed floral to bittersweet spicy to luscious oriental much like the colours of those frescoes take on different shades depending on the light cast.
Cimabue begins on complex citrus , immediately flanked by unctuous saffron with the feel of aromatized olive oil for a creamy, starchy Carnaroli risotto. Although there are flowers' essences in the composition, none emerges prominently, instead undulating into layers that are folded in the spice mix. The smell of clove, cardamom and nutmeg slither when Cimabue takes on the skin, then the sandalwood, vanilla and sweet powder combine in a classic milky gourmand drydown that accounts for a very warm and pleasantly sweet ambience with average lasting power. Cimabue should please spice lovers as well as gourmand lovers and will bring a little warmth in the depths of winter.
Dawn Spencer Hurwitz Cimabue notes: Top: Bergamot, bitter orange, cardamom, clementine, Italian neroli, lemon, nutmeg Middle: carnation absolute, cinnamon bark, clove bud, Egyptian Rose geranium, Grandiflorum jasmine, honey beeswax, Moroccan rose absolute, Mysore sandalwood, Saffron absolute, Tuberose absolute Bottom: Ciste absolute, East Indian sandalwood, labdanum, oppopanax, Siam benzoin, Tahitian vanilla, Tamil Nadu sandalwood, vanilla absolute.
Cimabue is part of the more upscale collection Parfums des Beaux Arts (limited editions) and is available in various sizes: 0 .25 oz Eau de Parfum travel spray will set you back $27 while a limited edition flacon of extrait de parfum runs for $135 while a body butter and a foaming creame compliment the experience. Samples and sampler packs are also available on the DSH website.
Painting of Madonna enthroned with the child, St Francis, St.Domenico and two Angels by Cimabue displayed in Galleria Uffici Florence courtesy of Christus Rex
The upcoming launch by the historic house of Guerlain is called Santal Royal and comes in a bottle in the style of their "Eau de lit" and "Eau de lingerie" scents, but dressed in pitch dark black, with a gold filigree label and a cap and adorned with a tassel in black & gold hanging from the neck.
Guerlain Santal Royal is an oriental woody perfume with spicy overtones that heralds the coming of the cooler season, in the manner of "cashmere scents" we perfumistas here on PerfumeShrine like to annotate to autumn and winter. Jan Masters describes it as "an evening scent, although I could imagine it cheering up grey days as if cosying up in a cashmere wrap."
Of course pair Guerlain and sandalwood in the same phrase and everyone thinks of Guerlain Samsara (with the lone historian reminiscing about Guerlain Santal parfum from the first years of the 20th century), but we're told this is a very different perfume.
Santal Royal is a Harrods exclusive launch for the opening of their Salon de Parfums, retailing at £125 for 125ml of fragrance and the scent is composed by resident perfumer for Guerlain Thierry Wasser. Harrods are plugging the Salon des Parfums, a new abode for perfume enthusiasts on the 6th floor, which opens on October 16th at 8pm, attendance by invitation only. The fragrance will eventually arrive on boutique counters as well.
The fragrance notes for Guerlain Santal Royal include the eponymous mystical note of sandalwood, coupled with cinnamon and fresh neroli on the top, while the deeper, denser notes of warm amber, musk and leather rise from the base. Preliminary reportage suggests also a note of rose and oud in the formula that isn't mentioned in the official breakdown.
My own addition is that now that the sustainable Australian sandalwood plantations of Santalum alba have been fruitful we're set for a new wave of sandalwood fragrances that will reprise that most prized of woody notes. Assuming of course that Santal Royal contains said ingredient.
The Different Company introduces three new additions to their esprit collection, South Bay, Kashan Rose and White Zagora, all composed by perfumer Emilie Coppermann and priced at 86 euros each for 90ml of eau de toilette.
Kashan Rose is a surprising fragrance, developing with notes of the Persian rose celebrated at the festival of the May rose in the city of Kashan. The fresh, fruity and spicy blend of sage, litchi, pink pepper and cardamom, segues to Persian rose. Rose petals are surrounded with hawthorn and peony, on a base of ambrette, sandalwood and musk.
Notes for Kashan Rose
litchi, sage, cardamon, pink pepper
Persian rose, hawthorn, peony
sandalwood, ambrette seed, musk
South Bay is a luminous woody composition with fresh citrusy accents. The composition opens with a luminous blend of grapefruit, mandarin leaves and tamarind. Woody accords of grapefruit tree with freesia flowers and eglantine (Rosa rubiginosa) become stronger in the central layer of the composition, enhanced with creamy sandalwood, vetiver and suede creating the base of the perfume.
Notes for South Bay
grapefruitt mandarin leaf, tamarind
grapefruit wood, freesia, eglantine
sandalwood, suede, vetiver
White Zagora is a sensual oriental fragrance based on orange blossom accords. The top emphasizes neroli, citrus notes of which bergamot is the most discernible, with orange blossom in the heart, sweetened with honey, tuberose and sweet peach blossom. The base is warm, sensual and soft, via osmanthus, white musk and amber.
Notes for White Zagora
neroli, citruses, bergamot
orange blossom, peach blossom, tuberose
osmanthus, amber, musk
Home-toasted cashews and hazelnuts, enrobed with a mixture of dulche de leche that contained salt and tahini paste, is part of the treats that my Kappadokian grandmother used to prepare on cool autumn evenings for us kids to consume while doing our homework and it is this memory which was jogged upon first smelling Parfumerie Générale's Praliné de Santal.
Parfumerie Générale Praliné de Santalfollows a parallel life with Jeux de Peau by Serge Lutens in its caramelised overtone due to pyrazines, aroma materials with sugared maple and phenolic nuances, and its étude on sandalwood. Whereas Lutens went with his childhood memories of toasted bread and the yeast of kneading, Pierre Guillaume went with toasted nuts with a coating of caramel & salt.
Both focus on the "creaminess" (i.e.the sweet, milk-ish quality) of natural sandalwood, though one puts it in a buttered context, the other in a nuts context.
It all depends on the kind of tooth you harbor!
On this occasion, the effect rendered is extremely nutty at first (if Bois Farine by L'Artisan Parfumeur instantly reminds you of peanuts you know full well what I mean); but it mellows into a richly satisfying woody accord on drydown. I'm not sure whether I would be more impressed with the originality of the scent, had I not came into contact with the idea in the Lutens fragrance first. It certainly has an elective affinity.
Roasted hazelnuts & peanuts greet us on the opening of Praliné de Santal (lasting for a good 10 minutes on my skin), a combination of savoury and sweet, before the scent falls into an unctuous billowy note of powdery, rich woods and the soothing, smooth silkiness of Cashmeran (an aromachemical which gives an intimate, close to the skin scent, between worn clothes and suede). In the interim there are soft, powdery hints emerging (referenced as heliotrope in the press material, but really more like powdered white chocolate and fluffy, airy vanilla), without diverging from the main gourmand-woody-oriental character of the perfume. In this regard it recalls Etat Libre d'Orange Archives 69, with its easily approachable ambience of spicy woods and distantly (but in the same mood) the satisfying tobacco-softness of Guerlain's Tonka Imperiale.
Pierre Guillaume, perfumer and founder of the niche brand of fragrances, is consistent in his exploration of soft, gourmand orientals; his are refined desserts that withhold some of the sugar expected from the genre, exploring the more resinous or woodier aspects for backing up the respective central theme. Praliné de Santal lacks a certain dynamic after the initial fall into the creamy woods, belying its sharp development of the first few minutes. It's actually sandalwood and Cashmeran which are the remaining notes on the skin after Praliné de Santal has completely "dried down" at the 2-hour wear application mark; a skin scent of delicious aftertaste; sensuous, delectable, maybe having you hankering for going beyond.
Parfumerie Générale Praliné de Santal is a limited availability scent within the line, available in 50ml/1.7oz for 88euros and 100ml/3.3oz for 120 euros on the PG site.
Butternut Squash, Sage, and Goat Cheese Ravioli with Hazlenut-Brown Butter Sauce via gourmetproject.ca
Looks are deceiving. Which should not be a problem when talking about fragrances, right? Wrong! I am just as guilty as the next guy, when I allow the concept of a fragrance (the ad, the bottle or the celebrity’s name (or the attractive model’s face [and body] associated with it) to tempt me into giving a fragrance my attention - when actually I should be more interested in how the fragrance smells on my skin. So, I admit it. It’s something I’m trying to get better at. I’m trying to not believe the hype (online or otherwise) that surrounds every new fragrance release and smell fragrances (new and old) with no expectations. It is extremely hard to do. Since I’m a big fan of a bunch of Tom Ford fragrances I decided to practice my new approach by testing the 3 new Private Blend scents: Italian Cypress, Arabian Wood (currently only available at the TF Kuwait boutique) and Bois Marocain (scheduled to be released in May 2009 exclusively to the London boutique). Here are my fragrance reviews:
Arabian Wood The first spray of Arabian Wood is neither woody nor ‘Arabian’ but something imperceptibly fougère-like, herbal and slightly nose tickling (angelica?) combined with a sharp varnish / nail polish remover accord. It took a couple of wearings for my nose to become accustomed to it and then only when it’s warmed on skin for at least 20 – 30 minutes do you start to perceive a warm, ashy gentle frankincense accord. I’m familiar with a handful of pure aoud oils, which to me vary greatly in overall smell and complexity. A few of the high quality oils are just gorgeous. Arabian Wood conveys this same accord not as an oil, but as a fragrance (not easy to do) while avoiding the typical medicinal (Band-Aid like) sharpness. It reminds me of the dry down of aoud fragrances (the Montales and Amouages) after a couple hours – almost as if 5 to 10 hours of sharp, medicinal notes are fast forwarded and skipped and you instantly arrive at the plush, velvety floral/wood aroma. I love it! The frankincense blends seamlessly with the taif style rose and then a gentle white floral note finishes it off in a luxurious and sensual style. Arabian Wood by Tom Ford is exclusive to the city of Kuwait (one of the richest countries in the world) and this scent feels appropriately decadent. However, unlike genuine Middle Eastern attars, Arabian Wood diffuses and doesn’t wear thick or heavy – its incense and complexity aren’t trapped close to the body of the wearer. I wish it lasted longer – it is gone in 3-4 hours. I also wish it was more affordable – but compared to pure Arabian attars prices, Arabian Wood is lower priced (for once). Imagine that?
Notes for Tom Ford Arabian Wood: Patchouli, Lavander, Galbanum, Bergamot, Gardenia, Jasmine, Rose, Oakmoss, Orris and Sandalwood
Bois Marocain I’ll get right to the point: Bois Marocain (Moroccan Wood) is an extremely safe and predictable wood fragrance; this is majorly disappointing coming from a luxury line like the Private Blends. The top notes are a resinous blast of synthetic incense (a very sharp slightly metallic incense – think Nuby YSL) that evolves within less than an hour into a typical linear sandalwood note. Not creamy (or anything remotely trying to smell like Mysore sandalwood) or complex – but a Demeter version of Sandalwood: generic, linear and short lasting. Rush for Men by Gucci and H&M by Comme des Garcons have walked this line before (pencil-shavings cedar notes lying underneath a raspy incense note) and while I have worn and enjoyed both of these scents before, the fragrance world does not need another, using the same two recycled accords – at almost quadruple the price.
Italian Cypress Tom Ford said, prior to the release of Italian Cypress in Women’s Wear Daily, "It's a very Seventies gentlemen's fragrance, the kind that you don't encounter very much any more..."
He was partially correct. It is a 70’s style fragrance. I love a great cypress note (Cypres Musc by Creed was love-at-first sniff when I smelled it years ago) and IC’s is a great cypress scent. In the first few seconds the resinous, coniferous notes are stiff, dry, bitter and very wonderful. Let’s call it the Yatagan-effect (I love it!) but then it head spinningly transforms into a wide expanse of green pine needles, fresh air (well, the effect of oxygenated pine needles) and a breezy mosaic of cypress trees, leaves, twigs, branches, sap, the whole darn forest. An extraordinary beginning! A green so true, that if you gathered together all of the shades of green in the world and picked the greenest, the epitome of green, this is the one you would choose. But the top notes are not enough to win me over completely. What Tom did not mention is that the middle and base notes are just like Polo (1978) by Ralph Lauren. As the scent progresses its parallel similarities to Polo are astonishing. The creamy wood effect. The whiff of leather at the edges of the green. Ford managed to copy everything about it except for Polo’s longevity since Italian Cypress lasts on me only about 3-4 hours and then disappears (unlike Polo which lasts + 8 hours). Perhaps TF sought to compete with the wonderful flanker Polo Modern Reserve. A friend of mine snatched up a large bottle when he visited New York recently and loves it (he thinks it has a very Z-14 by Halston slant to it – another 70’s scent!) Me? I’ll pass. Polo retails for $57 (4 oz) and can be found online at discounters even cheaper - whereas Italian Cypress is $450 (4 oz). In this case, ‘not believing the hype’ saves me a bunch of money!
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