Serge Lutens – Iris Silver Mist

Posted on May 1, 2013 by Leah

Serge Lutens – Iris Silver Mist

There are certain perfumes which so perfectly capture the essence of a particular flower that they achieve a level of cult status that makes it nearly impossible for other fragrances to contend with. For the deep velvety rose, there is Guerlain’s Nahema. For the lovely tuberose, there is Fracas by Robert Piguet. And until I am fortunate enough to make the acquaintance of the mythic Iris Gris by Jacques Fath, there is no single perfume which so fully captures the essence of iris as well as Iris Silver Mist.

Iris Silver Mist was a collaboration between Serge Lutens and Maurice Roucel, the nose behind Hermès 24, Faubourg, and Musc Ravageur from Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle. The story goes that Lutens pestered his nose to devise the consummate iris – and Roucel reciprocated by creating a fragrance incorporating every iris note available – an iris to end them all. The result is fairly magical, like witnessing the plant’s evolution through all its stages of growth. Iris Silver Mist starts out with a rooty, carrot-like note that is all iris bulbs, vegetal and earthy with a slightly spicy snap. As the fragrance evolves, we make our way up out of the earth, along the sharp, crisp green stalk of the plant. Once it is warmed by the skin, the floral aspect becomes more prominent and we are treated to the iris flower in all its splendor: metallic, dusty, powdery, soft and slightly ghostlike, with hints of its green stem and soil-covered bulb hovering in and out of focus.

Although Roucel may have taken direction from Lutens with respect to the creation, the fragrance speaks to me of another perfume house. While Iris Silver Mist certainly shares some of the bold characteristics of other perfumes in the Lutens line, it felt like their version of a Guerlain, though perhaps with a touch of irony. Iris Silver Mist has good longevity, though its sillage is lighter than many of Luten’s other creations. Many Serge Lutens fans often comment that his perfumes come on too strong when sprayed as opposed to dabbed, and this may be one of the exceptions. While Iris Silver Mist comes in one of the gorgeous “bell jars”, I personally felt compelled to decant it, so I could spray with abandon. Breathtaking.

Notes: iris, clove, cedarwood, sandalwood, vetiver, white amber, labdanum, musks, benzoin, incense.

Carven – Ma Griffe

Posted on April 26, 2013 by Leah

Carven – Ma Griffe

My eyesight is very poor, a circumstance which at times provokes sheer panic at the thought of not being able to read, which is essential in my line of work and my life as I know it. When asked which of the five senses they would give up, people are often quick to sacrifice their sense of smell without taking into consideration the impact this would have on their lives. Aside from the obvious lack of scents, flavors would be gone as well. Think of how many scent-triggered memories and associations you treasure: the smell of a loved one, autumn, holiday cooking – these would all be relegated to the territory of imagination. Indeed, life would take on a flat and somewhat frightening existence, since we often perceive things with our nose well in advance of our eyes.

Imagine how much more terrifying this loss would be if one’s passion and livelihood depended upon it. At the time perfumer Jean Carles created Ma Griffe, he was largely anosmic. Anosmia is condition whereby one loses their ability to perceive odors. Let’s put aside the fact that if any of us tried to create a fragrance with no sense of smell it would probably resemble kerosene, but the fact that this man created a beautiful and unique fragrance is astounding and a testament to his abilities as a perfumer.

The French term “ma griffe” is literally defined as “my claw”. While the fragrance would later be repositioned (both in its chemical composition and its advertising) to fit this definition, it was initially portrayed with the more subtle, figurative translation of Ma Griffe, namely “my signature” or “my label” as in a designer’s label. Ma Griffe was launched in 1946 by the design house Carven. Madame Carmen de Tommaso, Carven’s founder, was a proponent for innovative clothing, meant to suit women in their everyday lives and the house’s “signature” scent clearly reflected these sensibilities.

My main experience of Ma Griffe is of the vintage, and while this does possess an intense, green burst of galbanum and citrus in its opening (I felt I could almost see the green) it quickly offers brief, veiled glimpses of the soft, mossy heart that is to come. Ma Griffe in its original form is not the talon-bearing sabertooth alluded to in later advertisements which depict a woman’s hand clawing deep marks into a man’s back. While its composition and character are assuredly memorable, Ma Griffe is more like a playful feline which gently rakes its nails over your arm and then proceeds to arrange itself cozily in your lap.

While the heart notes feature jasmine and rose, this is by no means a sweet fragrance. More prominently featured are dry and warm facets of iris, musk and oakmoss. Even the vetiver, labdanum and sandalwood take on a tone which is more mossy than woody. While most mossy fragrances offer the impression of rain-soaked forests, Ma Griffe feels more like a walk in the forest on a dry day, when the soaring oaks and their mossy inhabitants are warmed by the sun and give off a dry, slightly powdery musty odor. If you are not a fan of oakmoss or musk, this may be a challenging fragrance. While its character is not overpowering, it is certainly distinct. For me, this fragrance takes me back to hours spent exploring the forest behind my house, in search of magical creatures both real and imagined.

Unfortunately, Ma Griffe has been repositioned into something of a bargain basement fragrance due in part to regulations regarding the use of oakmoss, in addition to financial considerations. The current incarnation plays up the more “aggressive” factors of the fragrance and has unfortunately all but destroyed the velvety drydown. While I cannot recommend the reformulation, I find the original to be exceedingly unique and would wear it more often if my supply of it were not so limited.

Floral chypre

Notes: gardenia, greens, galbanum, citrus, aldehydes, clary sage, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, vetiver, orris, ylang ylang, styrax, oakmoss, cinnamon, musk, benzoin, and labdanum.

Hermes – Terre d’Hermes

Posted on April 23, 2013 by Leah

Hermes – Terre d’Hermes

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 Chypre

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

Guerlain – Chant D’Aromes

Posted on April 17, 2013 by Leah

Guerlain – Chant D’Aromes

Chant D’Aromes was the first solo creation of Jean-Paul Guerlain after the retirement of his grandfather Jacques. Chant D’Aromes was released in 1962, before much of the social and political upheaval which would come to define the era. The name, roughly translated as “Song of Scents” is especially revealing for me, because within Chant D’Aromes, I detect the seedlings of all of the magnificent creations Jean-Paul would cultivate throughout his illustrious career. If Aime Guerlain was innovation, and Jacques contemplation, Jean-Paul would soon prove to be flirtation.

While overall, Chant D’Aromes gives the impression of a light-hearted floral bouquet with rich peachy undertones, within the opening notes, I detect the slightest sharpness that would be the unforgettable introduction to Chamade. As the seedlings begin to unfurl out of their sharp green hyacinth cases, the radiant fruity warmth of what would become Nahema is apparent. Chant D’Aromes also has a slight animalic note that would re-appear in many of Jean-Paul’s creations, subtle enough not to cloud the overall innocent impression of the composition, yet an unmistakable nod to the scent of the woman whom these flowers adorn.

While Chant is a lovely fragrance in its own right, it conveys all of the exuberance of youth not yet tempered by long years of experience. Chant is jubilant and smells of a celebration, as though Jean-Paul was able to distill a thousand disparate thoughts about love and perfume and harmonize them into a glorious nectar. While his later fragrances would achieve a level of sophistication comparable to that of his predecessors, Chant is a beautiful creation that captures the excitement and passion of a young man in love. This by no means is meant to imply that Chant is an amateurish creation – on the contrary, Chant D’Aromes reflects a level of craftsmanship that surpasses many of the perfumes available today.

I am fortunate enough to have vintage versions of the extrait and eau de cologne which are similar in character, with the eau de cologne being slightly more powdery. I have not sampled the most recent reformulation, but understand that it bears a closer resemblance to Chant D’Aromes than prior attempts.

Floral Chypre

Notes: bergamot, mandarin, peach, tuberose, ylang ylang, , gardenia, honeysuckle, jasmine, helichrysum, iris, cedar and sandalwood, musk, oakmoss, frankincense, vetiver, and tonka bean.

Christian Dior – Diorella

Posted on April 3, 2013 by Leah

Christian Dior – Diorella

If Diorella had a face, it would be the exquisite beauty of Jane Fonda in Roger Vadim’s 1968 sci-fi, B-movie masterpiece Barbarella. Both reflect a beauty which is disarming, innocent, sensual and yet somewhat strange. Dior released Diorella in 1972, yet another masterpiece created by Edmond Roudnitska.

Diorella first tempts you with the freshness of lemony greens rounded out with a touch of melon and floral notes, giving the opening a hint of ripeness. Were it to end there, Diorella would have been an attractive, linear warm-weather fragrance, perfect for after a shower. But as is often the case with great beauty, Diorella has an underlying complexity which must be experienced if its beauty is to be fully appreciated.

Regardless of how many times I smell the opening, I am always surprised by a sense of underlying strangeness just beneath the surface, not unlike smelling an approaching storm before one feels the first drop. As the top dissipates, a savory note of basil begins pushing toward the surface, which seems both out of place and brilliant, hinting at the richness of soil which lies underneath. Diorella is not unlike a flower blooming in reverse, its petals collapsing onto themselves and rolling up into the stem, which then plunges below the surface back into its damp, musky bulb. Diorella takes its time unfolding, each layer becoming increasingly sensual as the earthiness of oakmoss and vetiver settle down into the warmth of patchouli and musk.

If Diorella had sisters (or daughters perhaps), for me they would be Calyx Prescriptives and Cristalle for their green ripeness and Ma Griffe for its mossy magnificence.

Chypre

Notes: Lemon, Peach, Basil, Bergamot, Melon, Green Notes, Honeysuckle, Jasmine, Violet, Rose Bud, Carnation, Cyclamen, Oakmoss, Vanilla, Clove, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Musk, and Patchouli.

Prada – Infusion d’Iris

Posted on April 1, 2013 by Leah

Prada – Infusion d’Iris

Nothing imparts a sense of springtime quite like iris. The bulbs which have lain dormant, nestled deep within the earth’s rich soil, seem to smell the warmth of the sun, a signal to commence pushing their shoots upward in order to crown the day with their regal flowers. With its ethereal, haunting beauty, iris has a foot firmly planted in two seasons: the beautiful floral aspect hails the coming Spring, while the cold, dusty and earthy aspects of this note recall the Winter months it has left behind.

In Infusion d’Iris, perfumer Daniela Andrier has beautifully captured this duality of iris, conveying the bright burst of green stems and floral notes, tempered by the richness of the still-cool earth. Infusion d’Iris opens with a lovely aldehyde burst of orange blossoms and mandarin, a delicious introduction to the green and soft floral quality of its iris heart. Although the fragrance maintains a light character throughout, the iris unfolds to the depth of its earthy roots, warmed by the richness of incense and woods.

While Infusion d’Iris has a modern sensibility, the iris tinged with what smells a bit like violet feels like a throwback to many beautiful vintage fragrances containing this note, notably Apres l’Ondee and L’Heure Bleue, though without their powdery feel. My sole criticism of this 2007 release is its light nature, which is especially gentle for an Eau de Parfum. While it possesses adequate longevity, the sillage is minimal and I found myself wanting to apply liberally and frequently.

Floral

Notes: mandarin, orange blossom, galbanum, iris, incense, benzoin, cedar, lentisc and vetiver

Chanel – Cristalle

Posted on March 27, 2013 by Leah

Chanel – Cristalle

I largely put myself through college via a combination of scholarships, student loans, and numerous jobs to supplement whatever assistance my parents could provide. While this would teach me the importance of careful planning and budgeting, it left little room for personal items, especially those which were not absolutely vital. Exacerbating the situation was the fact that I was attending college in Manhattan, a city not necessarily known for its reasonable cost of living.

Dedication to my studies was not as difficult for me as it was to some of my classmates. I was enrolled in a very challenging school, in one of the toughest cities of the world. I knew that I wanted to be bright and sharp and to do that in such a competitive environment would really require all of my effort to shine. While this did not reconcile well with my love for fragrance and for Chanel in particular, it was a great motivator for success.

During my first year of school, while attending a chemistry seminar, I met a young woman who ultimately became my best friend. She had a similar upbringing and we shared many of the same goals, both scholastically and personally. This included, not surprisingly, a love for Chanel. Given that we were both struggling to meet our immediate needs, together we devised creative ways of sampling and purchasing a few special items. This largely involved two activities which most of us master in childhood: dress-up and pretend.

My friend and I would save up for bus fare to Bloomingdale’s (which cost a dollar in those days) but made it a point always to walk back home. After all, we only needed to look presentable upon arrival. No one needed to know the many blocks we would walk back to return to campus uptown. To prepare for our excursion, we would put on our best outfits and make ourselves up to be sure we looked the part. We also did our research, which in those days involved pouring through magazines at the library. We needed to ensure that we seemed extremely knowledgeable when we arrived at the fragrance counter.

As we sampled the latest releases (which was not the terrifying task it is today), we came up with creative escape clauses for those we did not like, so as not to put off the eager sales associates who were so generous with the vials of liquid gold we so craved. “Oh, my mother just purchased that for me for my birthday” or “My sister wears that one and I could not bear sharing the same fragrance”. With these intentioned hints, we were often able to come away with considerable samples of the fragrances we did want, having given the impression that we were certainly able to afford any of these fragrances at a moment’s notice.

It was during one of these excursions that I happened upon Cristalle. It was unlike anything I had ever smelled before, though I have since seen it reincarnated to some extent in the magical Calyx by Sophia Grojsman. Henri Robert’s 1974 masterpiece was perfectly named, for it is the scent of something sharp and bright – precisely everything I longed to emulate. Cristalle cuts a sharp plane of light with its bergamot opening but it is the complexity and range of the green notes which is most alluring. These range from savory to sweet and grass-like thanks to a vetiver note. While the EDP version later introduced by Jacques Polge in 1993 pushes the floral accords into a sweeter, headier territory, the original 1974 release achieves in my opinion a greater balance by not allowing the floral notes to drown out the composition.

While Cristalle is often cited on top ten lists for summer and spring fragrances, it is a wonderful winter scent and shall forever remind me of cold Manhattan days and of the power of imagination to forge our destiny.

Chypre

Notes: lemon, bergamot, basil, petitgrain, galbanum, jonquil, jasmine, hyacinth, oakmoss, rosewood, and vetiver

Chanel – No 19

Posted on March 7, 2013 by Leah

Chanel – No 19

We are all familiar with the expression “It’s not you, it’s me”, words that have been inextricably tied to the end of a love affair. In my case, these words came to signify not the end of an affair, but a delay in the commencement of what would become one of the greatest loves of my life.

The 1980s were the era of the signature scent. In contrast to the current over-saturation of the market, fragrance companies focused on promoting brand loyalty. And while women might be lured to explore a new release, temptation typically set in only after a beloved bottle was running low. Being a young woman at this time, just starting to purchase fragrances with my own money, the concept of a signature fragrance seemed practical to me.

After a consistent affair with Chanel No 5, in the then available Eau de Cologne version, I fell in love with the sharp brightness of Chanel Cristalle. Given my utter satisfaction with Cristalle, our affair was exclusive for several years. While Cristalle still holds a very special place in my heart and on my shelf, my only regret is that I was blinded to the beauty of a more silent suitor, who stood by in the wings, waiting to be noticed.

Oh, No 19. When I fell, I fell hard. My initial impression of No 19 was so intense it bordered on off-putting, which is surprising given that Cristalle has an equally sharp introduction. The opening notes are a bold blast of green galbanum and neroli, which seem almost metallic, a quality which is psychologically reinforced by the unique brushed silver top of the traditional flask. The opening is rounded out and very lightly sweetened by bergamot and neroli. The green sensation is enhanced by hyacinth, which makes an appearance in Cristalle as well. I find that the hyacinth note in the eau de toilette version is much sharper than in the eau de parfum and versions where it takes on a sweeter quality, a sensation which occurs similarly in Cristalle, but the similarities end there.

The heart of No 19 references the smooth Chanel duo of rose and jasmine, however, they are rendered more tangy and fresh by the introduction of narcissus and lily of the valley. While the addition of ylang-ylang into this already floral heart could theoretically have pushed this into the territory of cloying fragrances, the dry, powdery sensation created by iris tempers the whole bouquet and reinforces the bright green opening.

The true magic and beauty of No 19 however lies within its base of musk, oakmoss, leather, sandalwood and cedar, which ground the entire heady creation. No 19 was marketed with the tagline “Audacious and assertive. Never conventional” and is often referred to as a “power” scent for a woman. While the opening and heart notes certainly lend themselves to this interpretation, the earthiness of the dry-down reveals a warmth which is surely the soul of this strong woman. Silent and slow to reveal itself, but present nevertheless. Despite the intended direction of the marketing, this is a comfort scent for me, one I often reach for after a difficult day. She is like a close friend, one which needs no words to understand the language of your heart.

No 19 was named in celebration of Coco Chanel’s birthday on August 19th. There is some controversy regarding the release, as it is often claimed that this was her signature scent, a theory which seems confusing given that it was released one year before her death and that Henri Robert, Chanel’s second nose in residence was credited with its creation. In her book “The Secret of Chanel No 5”, Tilar Mazzeo offers a wonderful interpretation.

During 1945, and owing to conflicts over control of Les Parfums Chanel, Coco Chanel launched a separate line of perfumes sold exclusively in her boutiques under the name Mademoiselle Chanel. One of the Mademoiselle Chanel fragrances became her personal favorite and as a result was set aside for her private use. According to Ms. Mazzeo’s research, after some reformulation by Henri Robert during his tenure at Chanel, this fragrance was later made available to the public as No 19. While we may never know the complete truth, I will relish the thought that Mademoiselle Chanel’s favorite scent is now one of my own.

Floral Chypre

Notes: Galbanum, Neroli, Bergamot, Jasmine, Rose, Lily of the Valley, Iris, Vetiver, Sandalwood, Leather, Oakmoss and Musk.

Balenciaga – Florabotanica

Posted on March 5, 2013 by Leah

Balenciaga – Florabotanica

One of my main issues with modern perfumery is the manner in which fragrances are penned by a team of market “specialists”, only to be translated into a fragrance which often bears little or no relation to its official description. Florabotanica, released by the house of Balenciaga (in collaboration with IFF) in late 2012, is one of the best recent examples of this phenomena. The fragrance’s tagline is below.

“Florabotanica evokes ambivalent bewitching beauty. Velvety and thorny, flirting with hemp and vetiver roots. The scent is flowery, developed on a rose note with a narcotic hemp twist. The wearer is beautiful but dangerous, like some rare botanical species.”

I will admit to having no idea what the foregoing means, or what the perfume was intended to smell like. How does one go about “flirting with hemp”? What does something dangerous smell like? Fear? I can only imagine the expressions on the faces of Olivier Polge and Jean-Christophe Herault, the noses behind this fragrance, when they were presented with the brief for Florabotanica.

While Messrs. Polge and Herault succeeded in making a nice-enough fragrance, Florabotanica is none of those things. The fragrance opens with a slightly spicy green note that quickly turns minty. Not quite a gum-smacking variety, more of a soft, pale mint that is closer to a mint herbal tea. As the heart opens, the fragrance reveals itself to be more truly a floral, though the rose and carnation at the heart of Florabotanica are fairly one dimensional versions of these two powerhouse flowers. They almost smell like a cardboard pop-up of the advertisement with Kristen Stewart.

At the base of the fragrance is a melange of caladium leaves, amber and vetiver, which is where I expected the danger to lie, since my research revealed the caladium plant to be poisonous. Quite to the contrary, these three notes in unison produced a slightly soapy, light chocolate effect on my skin, giving the creation a bit of softness and warmth. These notes nicely offset the flat, powdery florals, making for a pretty-enough fragrance, but nothing particularly “bewitching” or “thorny”. Certainly not “dangerous”. While I like Florabotanica well enough, I might have had a greater appreciation of it were it not for the bizarre expectations set by the marketing line. Probably the edgiest thing about the fragrance is the unique flacon it comes in, but for me, the design bore no relation to the scent either.

Floral

Notes: notes: Mint, rose, carnation, caladium leaf, vetiver and amber

Viktor & Rolf – Spicebomb

Posted on February 22, 2013 by Leah

Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb – A Case of Mistaken Identity

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

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.

Quintessence

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