Posts filed under 'New Perfumes'
This year is proving to be quite prolific in terms of fragrance releases, and, while I’ve developed a rather sceptical attitude towards most new perfumes these days, there’re a few pleasant exceptions. Here’s a list of what I’m intrigued by and am anxious to smell:
Boudoir Sin Garden by Vivienne Westwood. From Osmoz.com: “an invitation to hide and seek in an English country garden” (*raised eyebrows*). I quite like the original Boudoir, so I’m hoping Sin Garden will appeal as well. I also quite like the notes, with the exception of the first two: freesia, pink pepper, aldehydes, violet, heliotrope, orris, amber, sandalwood, oakmoss, musk.
M Moi by Mauboussin. Saffron, ivy, currant, orange blossom, narcissus, ambrette, cashmere wood, white ambe, musk. I used to wear the original Mauboussin (which is highly underrated, by the way) - a very wearable, sophisticated patchouli scent. M Moi sounds like it has good potential. My prediction is it won’t be widely distributed in the U.S. (online discounters will come to rescue, no doubt).
Matthew Williamson Collection: Jasmin Sambac, Incense, Lotus, Warm Sand. Matthew Williamson has already sent us over the moon once with the original Incense, then smashed us on the ground with its discontinuation, then smashed us again with the arid Matthew Williamson perfume. What will it do now, with all four? I’m hoping at least Incense and Warm Sand will be noteworthy.
First Love by Van Cleef & Arpels. The classic First perfume was created by Jean-Claude Ellena, and the perfumer of First Love is Christophe Raynaud. Osmanthus, mandarin, peony, ylang-ylang, orchid, amber, vanilla, patchouli - it doesn’t really sound like me but I’m still intrigued, perhaps due to my appreciation of First. I hear it’s similar to (shudder) Flowerbomb. Please spare me.
Eau Sauvage Fraicheur Cuir by Christian Dior. I love, love, love the original Eau Sauvage! Anything good is better with “cuir” - OK, maybe not always but I can still hope. This version is said to be spicier, with more cedar, and “an ambery leather accord that is “masculine but not animalic” (Osmoz.com) Notes: lemon, hedione, herbs, cedar, chypre accord, amber, leather. Fraicheur Cuir will be a limited edition scent.
Vivara by Pucci: the relaunch of the classic 1966 chypre. I’m especially intrigued by the “more modern chypre” statement. Chypre, you say? It takes guts to make one these days, and I truly hope Vivara will stay true to its classic character. Needless to say, the bottle is beyond gorgeous. Notes: galbanum, bergamot, amaretto accord, jasmine, orange blossom, narcissus, iris, vetiver, patchouli.
What new releases tickle your fancy?
June 6th, 2007
Courtesan by Worth came out in 2005 following the relaunch of the the vintage gem Je Reviens by the house of Worth. It was created by Pierre Bourdon “to recreate the spirit and tradition of Parisian Courtesans of old.” March at Perfume Posse wrote an excellent review of Courtesan, and it’s thanks to her I’ve had the opportunity to smell this amazing fragrance. Interestingly enough, it is also my introduction to the house of Worth - I’m now determined to try as many of the other perfumes as possible, especially Je Reviens.
Courtesan strikes me as a full spectrum contemporary scent with distinct hints of the past. It’s ultimately a fruity floral but done so right it leaves no room for criticism. The list of notes alone promises a rich, complex blend, and such it is. Courtesan seems to undergo a reverse development on my skin: its beginning is sumptuously lavish and dense while the drydown is sheer and thin. The top notes create a liquor-like feel - fruit drenched in cinnamon in the style of Fendi Theorema. The heart is marked by a luscious bouquet of flowers underlined by soft, peachy sweetness. The drydown is less complex and sort of stripped away, leaving nothing but velvety, mouth-watering fruity (think raspberry souffle!) musk that reminds me of the outwardly brutal Muscs Koublai Khan’s more angelic, lovable nature. Courtesan possesses a quiet, unobtrusive sillage reminiscent of the wafting smell of lipstick. I’m truly mesmerized by it and would like to find a way to obtain a bottle.
Courtesan features the notes of cinnamon, cardamom, clove, pineapple, red berries, bergamot, orange blossom, magnolia, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, peach, caramel, raspberry, chocolate, cocoa beans, amber, vanilla, musk. As far as I know, it’s currently availabe only in select U.K. shops such as Harrod’s, Harvey Nichols, Selfridges. For more U.K. retailer info, please check this page.
Image source: worthparis.com
June 4th, 2007
Fleurs de Sel, the newest fragrance by Miller Harris, was inspired by a small village in Brittany called Batz sur Mer, a place of retreat for the perfumer Lyn Harris. “This delicious scent is refined by the delicacy of the materials chosen from the edge of the salt marshes.” (Millerharris.com). Fleurs de Sel is one of those atmospheric fragrances that perhaps can be best understood by actually being in the place they represent. L’Air de Rien, the previous Miller Harris creation, was done in a similar, although somewhat abstract way. Even though it took some warming up to, I was soon able to relate to L’Air de Rien to the point of getting quite attached to its ghostly character. With Fleurs de Sel, things are a bit more complicated. While I appreciate its unconventional composition, it remains rather cold and aloof.
Perhaps this aloofness can be explained by the pungent herbal notes that seem to permeate the entire composition. Thyme, rosemary, and clary sage (lots of it!) produce a medicinal effect, as if I’m smelling an herb tincture of some sort. Then again, I’m also getting whiffs of an aftershave. So I’m quite torn for the first twenty minutes or so. It’s only after that the iris becomes prominent, with a soft smoky undertone that seems to be achieved by bitter oakmoss and dry vetiver. The iris shimmers, as if trying to overpower the herbs. Alas, on my skin it’s quite the opposite: the herbs are rather adamant about staying as aromatic as can be (especially the sage), not even showing due respect to the presence of vetiver which seems to be pretty much weeping in the corner. So I’m left with a no doubt interesting scent but one that leaves me rather dispassionate. Perhaps if I ever make it to the coasts of Brittany, Fleurs De Sel will make sense and win a place in my heart.
Fleurs de Sel features the notes of red thyme oil, rosemary, clary sage, iris nobilis, narcisse, rose, ambrette, vetiver, moss. It’s available directly from the Miller Harris online shop.
Please be sure to check Marina’s take on Fleurs de Sel.
Image source: millerharris.com
May 31st, 2007
“Like fine wines made from grapes that can change taste slightly from year to year, perfumers have always combined different harvests to guarantee consistent quality in their fragrances. That is why Givenchy has selected the three best harvests of the year 2006 and reserved them for its exclusive use to create three unique Limited Editions of its leading fragrances.” (Nordstroms.com) I’m afraid my impressions of this collection is tainted due to a rather absurd experience at the Nordstrom’s fragrance counter. First of all, I can’t help but notice the special harvest concept - been done before with much success by L’Artisan Parfumeur with Fleur d’Oranger in 2005 and Fleur de Narcisse in 2006, hence hardly a novel concept. Secondly, with a collection of such special value, it seems quite logical to make sure the presentation is up to speed, don’t you think? Perhaps it is in other Nordstrom stores (where the scents are available exclusively at the moment). The one I was at, however, on Michigan Ave, gave me a rather bizarre treatment. I’m standing in front of the display table, spraying the blotters and sniffing. I see a sales lady nearby and promptly approach her, and our conversation goes something like this:
- Do you have samples of these, by chance?
- No, we do not.
- Would it be possible for you to make them?
- I can make you two samples. You need to give us your name and phone number so we can call you back to see how you liked them.
- Can you make samples of all three?
- No, I can only make you two samples. Then we’ll call you back to see how you liked them.
- I’d really love to try all three of them.
- Would you like to spray some on your skin? Let me help you.
- No, I mean, I’d like to have samples of all three of them, even just a drop. I write about perfume.
- I’ll make you two samples, and you can try the third one here. Then we’ll call you to see how you liked them.
- I work in perfume. We give out samples so people can try the scents on their skin.
- I can only make two samples. We’ll then call you back. The idea is to eventually get a sale, so we’d like to call you to find out how you liked them.
- OK. Fine.
At this point I just about lost it. My last sentence went something like this, “I write about perfume. I will review these scents and write about my experience here today. This is the weirdest method I’ve ever seen.” Then I walked away fuming. Nordstrom’s has always amazed me with their superb customer service. It’s my preferred department store. I’m perfectly aware the sales people working in fragrances are quite often poorly trained and often tell you the most absurd things. However, this was not the case of one ignorant sales person. This was the case of what seems to be their (new?) sample policy that I have to carefully choose descriptive adjectives for as I’m still recovering from the shock. Only two samples and only with your name and number (and address, too, which I refused to give out)? So they can get a sale out of this later? [All expletives deleted] Please show me where’s the logic in this. Try as I might I cannot see it. It’d have made some sense had there been only two scents I wanted to try. If you want to limit samples per customer, fine (but don’t expect your sales to rise). But this? The Limited Edition Harvest 2006 Collection consisting of three fragrances united by the same idea/inspiration/you name it? Only two scents for you, you beggah! I’m suddenly in good ol’ Soviet times standing in line to get some soap with only two tickets for exactly two bars.
The scents? Should I even go there today? Just a brief overview.
Amarige: highlighting the ylang-ylang cultivated on the French island of Mayotte. Other than that, it’s Amarige as I recall it. A sultry, creamy floral.
Organza: lovely “orange blossoms from Nabeul in Tunisia… the harvest is made by women, perched at the very top of wooden ladders, who gently twist the flowers to make them fall.” A potent, sultry, creamy floral.
Very Irresistible: the finest Centifolia roses from Grasse. A sweet, sultry, creamy floral.
May 21st, 2007
Let me start by saying I really love the Frederic Malle line of fragrances: the brilliant concept, the genius perfumers, the understated packaging, and, of course, the scents themselves. Vetiver Extraordinaire, Noir Epices, Lipstick Rose, Une Fleur de Cassie, even Carnal Flower are very fitting, tastefully chosen names that I’ve never questioned or paid much attention to. Along comes French Lover, and, before I get a chance to smell the juice, I’m slightly flustered. The only vivid example I can liken the emotion to is the memory of finding out a new boy is about to join our class in middle school. He’s not local, comes from a solid family and has traveled the world. We hear he’s tall, dark-haired, and very, very smart (and speaks English!). All the girls are a-twitter, and what we really want to know is whether he’s good-looking (well, he’s gotta be because we won’t have it any other way). The news of French Lover affected me in a similar fashion. Even now, after the initial sniff test, I feel like I have to say something demure and flirty, blush a few times, and casually drop a handkerchief (neatly embroidered by my great grand-mother). But, just as the case was with the new boy (who was, by the way, smashingly handsome), I never acted demure and flirty or dropped a handkerchief (although I did blush many a times), simply because I pathetically lack a single bone in my body that could possibly warrant such behavior. Nevertheless, the boy was my secret crush, and so is French Lover. Except it’s not quite secret - I proclaim my love right here and right now.
That said, I still feel like I don’t really know how to act around French Lover. He’s ever so smashing! His voice is husky, his shoulders are broad, his demeanor is as virile as can be, and his shoes are always polished. Apparently, Pierre Bourdon (the perfumer) and Frederic Malle aspired to create the ultimate man fragrance - modern and refined. They’ve succeeded. French Lover is what I’d call dry chypre very much in the classic tradition, yet with certain contemporary twists and turns. It’s built around angelica (an aromatic, medicinal herb) and woods (mostly, cedar). It’s decidedly full-bodied - a hearty mix of pimento, cedar, vetiver, and incense. As I said earlier, I get rather bashful and nervous around it, yet I’m filled with the urge to wear French Lover. When I do, I happily forget about all things ladylike and courtly - I’m a woman with power and am not afraid to use it.
French Lover will appeal to you if you favor such scents as Derby by Guerlain, Querelle by Parfumerie Generale, Navegar by L’Artisan Parfumeur, Incensi by Lorenzo Villoresi, Antaeus by Chanel, and even Miss Dior by Christian Dior.
French Lover features the notes of angelica, pimento, galbanum, iris, bay rum, clove, cardamom, juniper, cedar, oakmoss, frankincense, patchouli, vetiver. It’s said to be sold in the U.S. under the name of Bois d’Orage. Hrmph. Well, you know, he’s a spy, so you gotta do what you gotta do. Meanwhile, he’s still in France, at the Editions de Parfums online shop.
Image source: editionsdeparfums.com
May 17th, 2007
Mayotte and its predecessor Mahora pay homage to the island of Mayotte (also known as Mahore), where the house of Guerlain has ylang-ylang and jasmine plantations. Mahora was released in 2000 followed by dubious success, and Mayotte is its current reincarnation, released in 2006 as part of Guerlain’s Les Parisiennes collection. My first and only acquaintance with Mahora happened a few years ago when I wore the scent for exactly one day, and concluded we were not meant to be. During my recent trip to New York, Mayotte was what stood out to me the most at the Bergdorf Goodman Guerlain counter: it struck me as not only charming but also very much a scent of its own merit, bearing very little resemblance to its forerunner. To give it complete justice and simply to satisfy my curiosity, I obtained a mini of Mahora eau de parfum for comparison purposes.
Both Mayotte and Mahora can easily be called sophisticated tropical floral orientals. However, they don’t sing the same song. While Mayotte is an ode to ylang-ylang, Mahora dignifies tuberose. From the very top notes, Mayotte is a creamy, coconut-like mix of frangipani and ylang-ylang. Mahora starts out with a burst of orange and without wasting any time turns into fruity, buttered tuberose. I find Mayotte much more Guerlain-like: it possesses the same peachy heft of Mitsouko. Mahora, on the other hand, strikes me as rather aggressive and mutinous. Its sugared, almost oily tuberose seems to defy all things Guerlain, and perhaps that’s the reason the fragrance didn’t do so well. In spite of being much more refined and polished, Mayotte can hardly be called a tame and acquiescent version of Mahora - it bears but faint sibling resemblance and respectfully begs to differ. While Mahora is heady and persistent, Mayotte is soft and enveloping and has won my heart as the best ylang-ylang scent ever created.
Mahora features the notes of orange, almond tree blossoms, ylang-ylang, neroli, tuberose, jasmine, sandalwood, vetiver, vanilla. The notes for Mayotte are neroli, frangipani, tuberose, ylang-ylang, jasmine, sandalwood, vetiver, vanilla. Mahora can be found on various online fragrance discounters, and Mayotte is available at the Paris Guerlain boutique as well as Bergdorf Goodman.
Image source: osmoz.com, expresschemist.co.uk
April 23rd, 2007
Comptoir Sud Pacifique has been in business for as long as I’ve been alive producing tropical escapes in a bottle. The perfume names pretty much speak for themselves as do the scents they represent, from Vanilla Abricot to Aloha Tiare. In the past few years, it seems like every other new release by Comptoir Sud Pacifique (CSP, from now on) has been some version of vanilla. The news of Caramel Sunset were hardly shocking - we’ve exhausted the vanillas, let’s move on to caramel. Pardon my involuntary sarcasm but I’m afraid this is far from a favorable review. Just the other day I noticed another new offering by the popular (!) line Clean named Warm Cotton and couldn’t help but wonder if the creators’ real motive is to raise public awareness to increase personal hygiene - after all, you can never be clean enough in America. First, you work up major Lather, then spritz on some Clean, then douse in Shower Fresh, dry yourself with Warm Cotton making sure it’s been splashed with Fresh Laundry, and then you’re not only Clean, you’re Ultimate. For those who don’t know, yes, these are actual perfume names. But to get back to Caramel Sunset - what can it possibly have in common with Clean? Not much, I guess, other than to force us to not only consume way too much sugar in our daily diet (check those nutrition facts) but also wear it on our skin and then some. No, there’s nothing wrong with vanilla scents (or CSPs, for that matter), and I’m perfectly aware of the fact there are plenty of people who happily have been, are, and will be wearing them. I simply long for variety, even among liquid tropical paradises. As for Caramel Sunset, it is just that - warm, milky with a hint of coconut and cotton candy fluff. Does it take me to Hawaii? No, I’m still at home in windy Chicago, on my couch sipping some hot cocoa with extra marshmellows (to pack more sugar into my diet).
Caramel Sunset is available at Sephora, Beautyhabit.
Image source: comptoirsudpacifique.us
April 18th, 2007
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please re-consider the case of Bois Blond, the limited edition offering from Parfumerie Generale. Mrs. Ina has reviewed this scent in the past, giving it a lukewarm feedback. Why, o why?! Now I must step in and defend this beauty of a fragrance, a work of olfactory art, unique and unforgettable.
“On the first country morning wet verandah is floating in green underwater dusk.The door to the porch is open wide, cold breeze is coming from the garden and loud hollow buckets are ready for us to run with to the lake. To sleek, dazzling, lake, in which the whole world dropped and reflected on an early morning. The old bucket will gurgle, and the faraway echo will gurgle, too. You will scoop up cold deep silence, take a piece of solid smooth surface and sit on fallen tree for awhile.” (Tatyana Tolstaya, “Fire and Dust”).
Bois Blond opens up with a cold, bitter and almost peppery and pungent blast of grasses and galbanum. The top notes have it all: the moist dark forest, the blades of last year’s grass smelling warm and familiar, the dryness of a fallen cedar trunk, covered in moss. All these elements combine to produce almost a physical olfactory sensation of being in that environment, being there on a cold summer morning. If the opening of Bois Blond had a color, it would be translucent, “underwater” green. As the middle notes step in, the scent becomes strangely comforting. The chilly and pungent top notes settle, the grasses become more aromatic and with blond tobacco accentuating dry hay and cereals, the fragrance achieves almost a textural feel of these components. Here, as we bury our faces into the forest hay, we realize that it holds the promise of a hot summer day, that the warmth is buried deep inside these piles of dried grass. The wet hay has a heart of gold. Soon, the “underwater” green is penetrated by husky, golden, shameless stream of sunlight. Amber and musk come to the forefront, forming a very comforting, slightly sweet and, yes, sexy scent. It is a smell of skin of a loved one, skin that is still holding memories of walk in the dark chilly forest, of lying on a moist hay, of sitting by the cold lake, waiting for water to warm up so you can take a plunge.
I also would like to note that Bois Blond does not have a feel of a conventional perfume as there is nothing “perfumey” about it. However, it is not a caricature fragrance in any way, designed to mimic the exact combination of elements to convey a feeling. Bois Blond is not following in the footsteps of Demeter or I Hate Perfume. Parfumerie Generale takes the creation of environment through olfactory sensation to a whole different level. While all elements are there, they are blended seamlessly and elegantly, with one note underscoring, emphasizing or moderating others, rendering this creation extremely wearable.
Bois Blond is a limited edition scent. Along with the other limited edition scents, it can be currently found at Luckyscent, The Perfume Shoppe, and directly from the Parfumerie Generale online shop.
By Elena Singh
April 17th, 2007
Seems like ages since I’ve written here but what can you do, when work sends you to New York with plenty of free time to sniff, your priorities change drastically (plus I had no internet access). But I’m glad to be back and report on my fragrant adventures. The first time I traveled to New York was about three and a half years ago when I had barely started out in my perfume addiction. I was thrilled to visit the fancy perfume shops but was also highly intimidated by the abundance of scents I knew nothing of, so the result was quite lamentable - I barely sniffed anything and bought nothing (the fact of accidentally kicking a dog in a shop didn’t help either). Many a times since I’ve looked upon that adventure with piercing regret - ah, if only I had savored the experience! That’s what you do when you find yourself surrounded by the multitude of perfumes - you savor and partake. This time around, I did just that.
My first fragrant stop was Aedes de Venustas, a posh boutique in West Village that’s an absolute must for any self-respecting perfume aficionado. I could literally spend hours in that store (it was close to two this time). Besides charming and very knowledgeable owners, the selection of niche/hard-to-find scents is simply incredible. Having previously smelled a lot of what the shop offers, I must say I didn’t so much discover as rediscover - Musk by Lorenzo Villoresi (powdered rose musk), Bursch by Acqua di Biella (warm, boozy spices), and, new to me, Yu, the $5,000 perfume that smells gorgeous and very much along the lines of Gardenia by Chanel.
Bergdorf Goodman required a couple visits. The beauty and fragrance department is one of the best around. My first point of attraction was obviously Guerlain. Iris Ganache, while a bit weaker now, is still a lemming. From the one drop I was able to spray it was a lovely mix of Cuir Beluga and Insolence. The Garden Ouds I whimpered about earlier are a disgrace to the house of Guerlain. Not only there isn’t anything remotely oud-like about them but the utter flat character is inexcusable, especially for such a hefty price. Thankfully, there was one fragrance I fell for upon first sniff - Mayotte, the reissue of Mahora, with a couple distinct changes (a separate review to come soon). Another magnetic appeal at Bergdorf’s was the new Tom Ford scents. I must say the appeal waned the minute I found myself standing in front of the display table - 12 scents in identical bottles with lots of similar sounding names (there’re lots of “noirs” and “blacks”), all smelling suspiciously like clones or distant relatives of Black Orchid. Frankly, I was overwhelmed. I started picking them up, one by one, and spraying on a card, only to discover one heavy smell after another, with not much identity or charm. But I won’t judge them yet as I still hope to obtain samples to conduct further thorough testing. What I found deplorable, however, was the presentation - way too many perfumes, way too alike, with nothing to back them up (what’s behind the name, for instance?) The conclusion: exclusivity doesn’t equal mastery.
My other stops were Barney’s and Takashimaya, neither of which had any substantial thrill (although still worth visiting). A real highlight, however, was the L’Artisan Parfumeur boutique on Madison Ave. It was my first time visiting the boutique, and I fell all over in love with the line. The perfumes are neatly and tastefully arranged on the shelves for you to interact with, the staff is ever so smiley and helpful (and French!), the whole atmosphere is just charming. I fell in love with the Mood Swings coffret again as well as the new Jatamansi organic body care products (I hear the body mist is due to be released in May).
Pardon my eloquence today - too many fragrant impressions at once. That’s what four days in New York would do to you. Ah, I want to go back already.
April 16th, 2007
Olivier Durbano is a French jewelry designer whose keen interest in gemstones has expanded to perfume as an olfactory poem to the gem it represents. The correlation between precious stones and perfume is not a novel concept as it has already been explored in Armani Prive fragrances (Cuir Amethyste, Eau de Jade, Pierre de Lune) as well as the eclectic Stoned. The concept as such might not be novel but the approach certainly is - to convey the mood, the symbolism of each stone. This proved to be true for me as I caught myself focusing on the general feel of the scent more than its ingredients. The first two fragrances in the line are Rock Crystal and Amethyst (with five more to come), created in collaboration with the perfumers of Grasse.
Rock Crystal (the colorless variety of quartz) represents the belief that wearing quartz crystals benefits health and spiritual well-being. Hence, it is an incense scent built around frankincense and dry spices. Rock Crystal evokes images of old, forgotten small village churches with dusty interior and incense smoke instilled in the air. It’s dark but not brooding, aloof but not cold. I find Rock Crystal soothing and contemplative. It embraces and stays close to skin. While not particularly original (Rock Crystal could be a cousin to the Incense series by Comme des Garcons or Armani Prive Bois d’Encens), it is definitely well-balanced, a sort of a mellow take on incense.The scent features the notes of orange, pepper, coriander, cardamom, cumin, olibanum, benzoin, myrrh, cistus, sandalwood, cedar, vetiver, everlasting flower, oakmoss, musk.
In contrast, Amethyst, much like the gemstone, is a vivid, robust scent. Symbolizing peace of mind and protection, it is a playful composition with an uplifting effect. The scent is built around fruity and floral notes (quite successfully, I must say), spiced up by pepper, and rounded by vanillic orris. It’s rather sweet and aromatic bringing to mind such scents as Haute Couture by Givenchy or even Putain des Palaces by Etat Libre D’Orange. The incense here has a suede-like, slightly minty undertone. The scent very much conveys the intensity of the color purple. While I find it quite pleasant, it doesn’t seem to grab me as much as Rock Crystal does (which is probably due to my general lack of interest in fruity-florals). The featured notes are bergamot, pepper, grape, raspberry, incense, palisander wood, jasmine, orris, vegetable amber, sandalwood, musk, vanilla.
Rock Crystal and Amethyst are available at Luckyscent and Aus Liebe Zum Duft.
Image source: luckyscent.com
April 8th, 2007
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