Tag Archives: grapefruit

Hermes – Terre d’Hermes

Posted on by

Hermes – Terre d’Hermes

terre1

In these modern times of aggressive fruity florals, I find I am often drawn to “unisex” or even “masculine” fragrances as a means of finding suitable alternatives. I am a great admirer of the work of Jean-Claude Ellena first and foremost for his ability to weave great olfactory symphonies out of a mere handful of notes, but also for his ability to keep his oeuvres within a range that makes them highly accessible to a wide audience.

While marketed as a masculine scent, the 2009 release Terre d`Hermes borders upon gender-neutral with a masculine leaning. The fragrance opens with the sparkle of citrus: orange with a touch of grapefruit, though decidedly more subdued than Hermes Un Jardin sur le Nil or Guerlain’s Aqua Allegoria Pamplemousse. The hesperidic opening is punctuated by a hint of pepper, an excellent segue for the underlying earthiness of the fragrance.

Hermes and Ellena named the fragrance wisely, for the French word “terre” can be translated literally as soil or more figuratively as “Earth”. At its base, Terre d’Hermes captures many of the planet’s primordial properties: the richness of its soil, deep forest woods, smoky volcanic eruptions and the metallic tang of the mineral world. Where Ellena reveals his true genius, however, is in his ability to portray these heavy, elemental qualities in a light manner. While Terre is not as diaphanous as some of his other creations, it possess a graceful quality which keeps the combination of vetiver, oakmoss, patchouli and benzoin from becoming too rich or medicinal. While Terre is an elegant composition for a man and a wonderful departure from the typical marine fragrance, I find it equally suitable for a woman.

Woody Chypreterre2

Notes: grapefruit, orange, floral notes, patchouli, vetiver, oakmoss and benzoin.

Share

Viktor & Rolf – Spicebomb

Posted on by

Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb – A Case of Mistaken Identity

 

spicebomb

I do much of my fragrance and cosmetics shopping at Nordstrom, in part because they have a wonderful points system and frequently have special gift offers. They also have a wonderful, do-it-yourself sampling system. During one such offer, I received a goody bag filled with various lotions and potions, but one in particular caught my eye: Viktor & Rolf’s Spicebomb. I will admit that I did not care much for Flowerbomb, although it is a pleasant fragrance. It was just a bit too sweet and it seemed like yet another variation on the post-Angel theme. I found the advertisement for Spicebomb very intriguing because it seemed like such an innovative way of reaching the female audience. At least I thought it was trying to reach a female audience, because no man I know would want to wear Spicebomb based on the advertisement unless he also wanted to date the model.

Confident in my assumption that the fragrance was intended for me, I began wearing it and was happily surprised to find that while it bore some resemblance to its pink sister, it satisfied numerous categories that she did not. Whereas Flowerbomb was a simple, almost one-dimensional dessert dish, Spicebomb is more like a sumptuous spiced dinner, complete with an after-dinner snifter in a soft leather armchair.

Spicebomb’s accords range from the lightly spicy notes of cinnamon, saffron and chili to a warm, plush mix of leather and tobacco. The citrus and pink pepper opening smelled delicious but not overly sweet. The sillage was potent yet comfortable. So far, it seemed perfumer Olivier Polge had captured my attention with his version of oriental “light”, but the best was yet to come. As the opening accords settled, a subtle spicy mix warmed on my skin unfolding into richer accords of leather, tobacco and vetiver. Every once in a while, I would catch a whiff of pine from the elemi resin. Other times, the cinnamon and pepper seemed more pronounced. Had any of these elements been pushed to the forefront, the composition would have had an edgier feel, but Spicebomb is tied together in a very cohesive manner, while still allowing for the subtle impression of different notes. Overall, it is a well-crafted and attractive fragrance with moderate lasting power.

After sampling for a few weeks, I decided to commit and buy a bottle. I walked through Nordstrom, unable to locate the signature grey grenade. I approached a sales assistant, who brought me over to the men’s section. Upon seeing my bewildered look at its location within the store she explained “It’s a men’s fragrance” to which I immediately responded “Oh yes. Of course. I knew that. It’s for a gift”.

viktor-rolf

Viktor & Rolf

Moral of the story: if you enjoy a fragrance and it works for you, ignore the rubbish marketing and target audience. Despite the press caption which states: “Infusing the codes of masculine perfumery with olfactory dynamite, Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb is an explosive cocktail of virility that transforms you into a powerful, intense and daring man”. Spicebomb is not particularly explosive, nor have I been transformed into a man.

Smoky woods

Notes: bergamot, elemi, grapefruit, pink pepper, cinnamon, vetiver, tobacco notes, leather, chili and saffron.

Share

Chanel – Coco Noir

Posted on by

Coco Noir – The Unloved Chanel

COCO-NOIR_bottle_02

I must start this post with a disclaimer: I adore all things Chanel to a fault. In fact, my friends joke that I must be Gabrielle Bonheur reincarnate, so great is my passion for Chanel products, history, and tidbits. With perhaps the exception of a couple of male fragrance flankers, the truth remains that Chanel reigns supreme.

That being said, I was surprised to find so many bloggers disappointed (almost to the point of distress), with Chanel’s latest release, Coco Noir. While I understand some of their frustrations given the pre-release marketing descriptions of this product as the ultimate in Byzantine black magic, my interpretation of this fragrance was radically different.

Finding that it is always best to start at the beginning, let’s get one thing straight. Coco Noir is not, and shall never be, Coco. Coco was born in 1984 and as such, embodied all of the characteristics of that era. Noted for its sillage which often entered a room before its wearer did, Coco reflected the larger than life ideals of the 1980s. While most categorize this era as one of opulence, I would argue that another defining factor of this era was a certain innocence and hopefulness. The 1980s saw sweeping social and economic changes as a result of newly industrializing economies, creating a prevailing sense of unstoppable wealth and prosperity. Similar to other fragrances born after times of strife, the focus was on celebration and expression. This was a time when we were just being introduced to life-changing inventions such as the cell phone and Walkman, and we were exhilarated. Little did we know how these devices, then in their infancy stages, would propel us into a super-fast moving and “connected” society which would ironically erode all the time they attempted to save. The 1980s was a time characterized by luxurious enjoyment and contemplation, as opposed to the more immediate gratification desires of our current era. Perfume could take its time unfolding and wafting its charms as opposed to today’s mandate: “Need. Scent. Now”.

The majority of the reviews I read bemoaned the fact that Coco Noir was not Coco, instead of celebrating the fact that it was not Coco Mademoiselle. While Coco Noir does nod in the direction of its candy-coated sister born in 2001, I saw Coco Noir as Chanel’s attempt to claw back the territory away from the sugary lollipop flower fruit-choulis that have come to dominate the landscape, and drag the consumer back to a place of complexity, even if by baby steps only.

While Coco Noir’s top notes of grapefruit and bergamot sparkle in typical Chanel fashion, the reference is more to the newer Chanel creations under the direction of Jacques Polge than either of his predecessors. This is no magical aldehydic veil a la Chanel 22. Contained within the Chanel heart of rose and jasmine are narcissus and rose geranium leaf, which lend the fragrance a subtle spicy quality, though far different from the warm clove heart of the original Coco. The effect of warmth is enhanced once the base notes of musk, tonka bean, sandalwood, and vanilla take over.1936-Chanel-in-Venice

Present throughout is the patchouli. While I understand that it is challenging to disassociate this scent from its current popular and often warped interpretations, patchouli was historically regarded as an exotic fragrance, frequently utilized in opulent incenses. Here then is the reference to the original Coco, and to Chanel’s “Coromandel culture” as referenced by Mr. Polge. The reference to Coco is not literal, only figurative. One must read between the lines. While the longevity is superior to some of Chanel’s more recent releases, it does not possess the tenacity of Coco. It does stay with me through a workday, though by the afternoon I can be caught pressing my nose to my sleeve.

While Coco conveys the organic warmth and fluidity of caramel brown, Coco Noir embodies the spirit of black: defined, contained and discrete. Where Coco is a warm cashmere wrap over a sumptuous silk blouse pulled together with a thick gold necklace, Coco Noir is a well-tailored black velvet jacket. Coco Noir hovers close to the skin unlike its sisters, creating a very personal and intimate experience of warmth, precisely what I need on days when all of my “modern” inventions are driving me to distraction.

Oriental

Notes: grapefruit, bergamot, rose, jasmine, narcissus, rose geranium leaf, musk, tonka bean, sandalwood, and vanilla.

Share