There’s
no particular olfactory thread running through this season’s selection: I just pretty
much grabbed what I’ve enjoyed wearing and/or thought was interesting over the
past weeks… The entries are way too long: that’s what happens when you don’t
post for months. You get talkative.
L’Eau d’Issey Pure by Dominique Ropion for Issey Miyaké
Along
with bitter, mineral and tannic effects, saltiness is the most interesting
avenue to explore right now in perfumery, and a deft segue from gourmand to
gustatory. Not to mention it works with skin (via sweat). In providing L’Eau d’Issey with a 21st-century
interpretation, Dominique Ropion shifts the aquatic genre into oceanic,
ambergris territory. The IFF captive Maritima ousts calone, along with most of
its cucurbitaceous effects. Like the perfumer’s previous composition for Issey
Miyaké, Nuit d’Issey, L’Eau d’Issey Pure plays on mineral
notes alongside the saltiness, managing to convey the scent of both
wave-splashed skin and sand (a
similar mineral-animal effect was achieved, very differently, in Alaïa). This being Ropion, the
seawater-drenched floral bouquet, centered on muguet (the original aquatic note), is powerfully radiant. This is an oceanic
scent aqua-phobics might want to give a squirt to.
Grand Chalet by Françoise Caron for Astier de Villatte
For
me, the woman who conceived L’Eau
d’orange verte can do no wrong, but with the unpromisingly-named Grand Chalet, François Caron has made me
silly-happy. The trouble with capturing the scent of linden blossom is the
scale: you usually experience it as an
atomic mushroom of scent, under dozens of trees. The honeyed, faintly anisic
lime blossom composed by Caron for the furniture and tableware designers Astier
de Villatte is a giant, bawdy floral whomp to Olivia Giacobetti’s delicate
herbal tea Tilleul for Parfums
d’Orsay, up to then the most satisfactory interpretation of the note. As for
the “Grand Chalet”, it was the painter Balthus’ refuge in the Swiss Alps: his
widow, the countess Setsuko Klossowski de Rola, has created a collection for
the French designer duo, wanted to evoke the giant linden tree that shades the
chalet.
Efflor_esce by Frank Voelkl for Nomenclature
Add
Paradisone to any white floral blend, and it’ll be as though you’re smelling
the soul of every jasmine blossom that gave up its life to scent, and went to
heaven. A chemically purer, and therefore much more potent version of hedione
developed by Firmenich, Paradisone is showcased in the first series produced by
Nomenclature, a new American brand celebrating the contribution of chemistry to
perfumery. As limpid as a glass of jasmine tea and intensely radiant, Efflor_esce was composed by the author
of Ylang 49 (Le Labo), still one of
my go-to fragrances.
Angel Muse by Quentin Bisch for Thierry Mugler
Seven
years after starting Givaudan’s fabled in-company school, Quentin Bisch won the
brief for reinventing Angel: the
other finalist was none other than its creator, Olivier Cresp. Angel Muse started off as a flanker, but
Clarins was so taken with Bisch’s proposal that the fragrance earned its own
bottle design and color (a golden peach). Instead of upping the glycemic index
– compared to today’s syrupy blends, Angel
now comes off as practically Jansenist --, Bisch decided to shift the original
accord on the scent map. The cotton-candy/ candied apple is replaced by
hazelnut cream, while the huge patchouli block that balanced out the former
gives way to vetiver. Already part of the hazelnut accord along with
ambrettolide, a silky musk with nutty facets, vetiver cuts through the gourmand
notes, adding a smoky, salty, bitter counterpoint. Angel Muse confirms, if need be, that Angel is a specific olfactory form, in that it can shift that form onto totally different
notes and still belong to the Angel family.
In doing so, it reasserts its innate toughness: this is no treacly
Hallmark-card cherub. As the whiff of sulfur in the top notes hints, Angel Muse is closer to Beelzebub before
the fall.
Narciso Poudrée by Aurélien Guichard for Narciso
Rodriguez
I
was pretty disgruntled that Narciso won
no awards at the French Fifis. Out of last year’s mainstream output, it was the
first one that immediately came to mind when I was asked what had impressed me.
Though the giant rose-vetiver structure of the original is less in evidence in
the new Narciso Poudrée, it’s got an
interestingly cosmetic texture to it – that cool, powdery yet moist feel some spray-on body products
have, like a petal.
Mentha Religiosa by Fabrice Pellegrin for Dear Rose
This
is perfume as pun, both in the name and the notes. In French, mante religieuse is “praying mantis”. By
matching mint (mentha in Latin) with
incense, in an olfactory version of the word-play, Fabrice Pellegrin brings out
the innate coolness of the latter. Against the chilly duo, heliotropin and
patchouli add a warmer layer. It seems
like a riff on Pellegrin’s earlier iris and tobacco Volutes for Diptyque – a shift on the olfactory map with a playful After-Eight
vibe.
White Song by Fabrice Pellegrin for Dear Rose
Despite
its name and source of inspiration – the headspace capture of the Cestrum nocturnum, also known as
night-blooming jasmine or queen of the night – what comes to mind when I sniff
this wonderfully potent temptress is that song by the Runaways: “Hello daddy, hello mom, I’m your
ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-CHERRY BOMB!”. A big mouthwatering cherry note set afire by
ginger and clove, White Song, like Mentha Religiosa, has a terrifically
loose, rock’n’roll feel to it.
LAVS by Filippo Sorcinelli for UNUM
When
at least three niche brand owners tell you “Go see Filippo”, your ears perk up.
When it turns out Filippo is the hipster Franciscan with the El Greco eyes who’s
been taking pictures of you, you get seriously curious. Especially since Filippo
actually makes outfits for Pope Francis. LAVS, which is the name of his religious
vestment studio, was initially designed to scent the parcels delivered to to the Vatican – a big, growling incense that could be a 21st-century Avignon, but with even radder
credentials.
Eau de Néroli Doré by Jean-Claude Ellena for Hermès
The
last-but-one fragrance composed by Jean-Claude Ellena for Hermès during his
tenure as in-house perfumer, Eau de
Néroli Doré is less strikingly original than Eau de Narcisse Bleu or Eau
de Gentiane Blanche, but it is tremendously enjoyable and not quite as
simple as it first comes off to be. There’s a lustrous, metallic edge to his
neroli that’s boosted by the cardamom and saffron. The latter, in turn, lends
an uncanny, umami aftertaste that
musses (or messes) up the blossom’s pristine petals.
Still Life in Rio by Dora Baghriche for Olfactive
Studio
I’d call it
sparkling: the scent fizzes, shimmies and shakes with the most crackling of
citrus notes, yuzu. It even has that salty tang certain sparkling mineral
waters can have. Dora Baghriche is a bold young perfumer initially mentored by
Bertrand Duchaufour, and she’s got an interesting take on the future of
gourmand scents. To her, it’s more about a way of approaching notes than about
drenching them in glucose – the first time I noticed her work, it was a pistachio-truffle
accord: that woman walks her talk. Hence her willingness to take on a
good-time, fruity theme for Olfactive Studio instead of heading straight for
the woods (or incense, or leather, or any of the niche memes).
For more
seasonal lists, check out my friends at:
So the original Femme was sweaty too? The vintage I own, an EDC from perhaps the 70s, is unimpressive and I have long wondered if Femme had been allowed to run down in those years. That would explain why someone at last decided to put some serious money into a reformulation in 1989, resulting in a fragrance much better than it had been before. This is just my speculation though.
RépondreSupprimerOh, and Ostara is d/c already? Was there a problem with it? In another forum there was discussion about changes in the scent between samples and FBs. I never got to smell it.
Annemarie, I also have latter-era vintage Femmes. I think they suffered from their aging, compared to that fabulous "new vintage". I'm wondering whether there was a time when Femme was no longer being produced by E. Roudnitska's company, even before Olivier Cresp's reformulation. I wouldn't swear to it though. I do know that when the owners of the Rochas licence did not accept E.R.'s reformulation it wounded him very deeply.
SupprimerAs for Ostara, I never heard anything mentioned about technical issues - I'll ask Bertrand Duchaufour when next I see him. I adore that scent! The former owners of Penhaligon's and L'Artisan did do a number of discontinuations, and Puig seems set to go the same way (though thankfully, Séville à l'aube has been spared).
Oh no, I didn't know that Roudnitska had offered a r/f of Femme. That would be a terrible blow, hard to recover from. I'm always intrigued by the story of its creation and surprised that a novelist hasn't picked it up to spin a tale of romance during WW2.
SupprimerThe discussion of Ostara is in yesterday's NST post about top 10 spring fragrances.
Oddly, though I really like Cresp's version, "fresh", non-IFRA Femme based on the original formula smells much more modern. Maybe it's because we can reverse-engineer E.R.'s later, more pared-down formulas into it... As for Ostara, yes, I did see some of the discussion on Friday. Sometimes ingredients do evolve or interact oddly. That was the case with Bertrand's defunct Havana Vanille for L'Artisan.
SupprimerYou always have the most tantalizing lists, Denyse! The only two I've tried are Eau de Néroli Doré (bought a nomad size) and LAVS which I'm trying to convince myself I don't need. I have Santa Maria Novella Melograno which I think is similar but sunnier. I also feel very conflicted about smelling like a Pope! ;-) I'll try to distract myself by searching out your other choices. nozknoz
RépondreSupprimerThanks Nozknoz! Wow, it had never occurred to me to match LAVS with Melograno (which an ex wears, "Monsieur" in my book). As for Popes, well, the current one is pretty cool. Filippo does insist that his scents are non-denominational, but I appreciate the reconnection between scent and the sacred...
SupprimerI was advised in Penhaligon's that Ostara simply wasn't selling; that customers found the heavy narcissus opening 'difficult' and lacked the will to stick with it. Which is a huge shame, as it's so rewarding. I love it.
RépondreSupprimerThat *is* a shame. Now I suppose they'll be working exclusively with perfumers from the big firms - rather than a maverick like Bertrand -- and putting out much safer offerings. Although apparently his Sartorial is one of their good (or even better) sellers.
SupprimerYes, I believe Sartorial does sell well -- to both sexes. I was fearful for Ostara as, for me, it was a sister to Duchaufour's equally gorgeous Amaranthine. Also non-'safe' (though a really exciting new departure for Penhaligon's on launch), and also pretty quickly discontinued. Too bad!
RépondreSupprimerTrue, I was also thinking of that connection. I only have a large decant of both, and I'm regretting now I didn't get full bottles. They were really the most interesting things Penhaligon's had done under the tenure of that US holding company that also had L'Artisan.
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