First, a word about Esxence for those of you who’d been expecting my
impressions… To be frank, I clearly overestimated my gift of ubiquity and underestimated
both the sheer number of brands to discover and the amount of time I’d have to
give over to promoting The Perfume Lover.
I did pick up a few samples, for instance at Ys Uzac and Maria Candida Gentile,
which I will review in due course… Next time I attend a trade fair, I’ll make
sure I schedule a proper meet-up with all the lovely people I barely had a
glimpse of!
I did come home to Paris to a pleasant springtime surprise while
replenishing my favourite shower product at my local Yves Rocher store, the
ultra-luscious Oriental shower oil with organic Moroccan argan oil (but none of
its sometimes rancid-nut notes) and a glorious, spicy orange blossom and
vanilla scent…
There are practically no lilac soliflores in fine fragrance, namely
because the smell is so ubiquitous in functional products (the disinfectant
properties of alpha-terpineol, a pine oil derivative with an intense lilac-like
odour, have led to its widespread use in soaps and detergents). So that fans of the unloved blossom have had
little to fall back on apart from Olivia Giacobetti’s whimsical En Passant for
Frédéric Malle – more of a fleeting impression of a lilac tree in a hidden
Parisian garden, with a strong aquatic cucumber note. But there’s been a tiny
uptick lately, both in the mainstream with Idylle Duet Jasmin Lilas, and in
niche with Phaedon Rue des Lilas. I didn’t get much of a sniff of the Guerlain;
the Phaedon, a “white lilac” according to the brand, is an aldehydic rendition
with strong almondy tones.
And then, of course, there was Yves Rocher’s Pur Désir de Lilas by
Annick Menardo, an excellent portrait of the flower. It’s just been replaced with
Purple Lilac, available in eau de toilette, body lotion and shower gel. The new
version improves on Pur Désir de Lilas with more naturalistic effects due to
the addition of fresh green top notes and more distinctly rosy heart – less
soapy than its predecessor – on a powdery vanilla base. Menardo has done away
with the slightly tinnish, synthetic effects of the Pur Désir version, though the
spiciness and honeyed animalic notes of certain lilac blossoms is not showcased
– the scent, featured in a “Morning in the garden” trio along with Rose Fraîche
and Agrumes en fleurs, leans towards spring-time freshness.
Like most Yves Rocher products, Purple Lilac is amazing value for the
money, and though I might be more inclined to use it as a room spray, I’d
definitely recommend it to city dwellers who haven’t had their fill of lilac…
Now, on to you: is there any little-loved flower you’d dream of seeing
featured in a perfume?
Illustration: Claude Monet, Les Lilas, temps gris, 1872, Musée d'Orsay
There is a flowering shrub that I'd never noticed before until one spring night when I followed my nose in the darkness. I believe it's a Judd viburnum, but it might be another variety. It smells rather like vintage Bellodgia with indoles instead of sandalwood. There is a whole, sophisticated perfume in those clusters of tiny, white-pink, five-petaled flowers, and I'd love to wear it! ~~nozknoz
RépondreSupprimerI don't know if anyone in central europe or america knows Mirabilis Jalapa, also known as night-flower. It has nothing to do with night queen, evening primrose, jasmins or other flowers that bloom at night, not in genus nor in fragrance. The blossoms can be bright, almost fluorescent purple or yellow, more rarely white and quite often a combination of the above. It produces seeds like pepper corns. The scent is very strange, understated and yet intoxicating. It is very diffusive, creating a scented mist one might say and yet, if you stick your nose in a blossom you will get almost no scent at all. The scent itself is watery-floral, not the least indolic, with a very fresh green bitterness to it like crushed stems and a peppery nuance. I believe it to be also slightly musky, like ambrette or angelika.
RépondreSupprimerThe scent might be too quirky for a soliflor (although for me, a lover of quirky perfumes it would be just fine) but can support and transform other night flowers or woody scents and in my opinion would be a perfect pair for incense. It carries the moisture of the night, the breath of damp earth and it would turn any composition in nocturnal fugue.
I'm sold! :)
RépondreSupprimerI think I can pass by my local Yves Rocher shop for a quick smell (and possibly buy). ;)
Nozknoz, you've got me really intrigued! Viburnum in florists' shops don't have much of a fragrance (but then, what does?)...
RépondreSupprimerKostas, your description of the scent of the night-flower reminds me of how poorly flower fragrances are described on botanical websites. The best I could find was that the smell was reminiscent of tobacco flowers and jasmine. Maybe perfume companies have done headspace captures but they're not saying! It sounds wonderful.
RépondreSupprimerInes, while you're there, do poke your nose into the Oriental shower oil, it's totally addictive!
RépondreSupprimerAround this time of year, I start craving lilac, but it's hard to find a lilac that doesn't smell like industrial strength air freshener. I recently bought myself a bottle of En Passant, but I obviously should get some of the Yves Rocher as well.
RépondreSupprimerJarvis, the Yves Rocher is lovely, though very clean and tending to veer more towards lily-of-the-valley towards the drydown. You should have a sniff of the Phaedon as well, though as I write I find it really pretty almondy, but it's got a little more heft.
RépondreSupprimerGlad you liked it. Do you happen to know of any other scents that have great diffusion but can't be smelled from up close?
RépondreSupprimerKostas, I find that often occurs in tree blossoms: they either smell different, or much less than from afar, when you put your nose into them. Recently: Japanese cherry blossom. From memory: linden blossom. Completely different according to where you are.
RépondreSupprimerWe have chinaberry trees in these parts - they're native to central Asia, I think, but they're an invasive species here. Some people call them cape lilacs, though they aren't lilacs - my guess is that they got the name because of the smell, which is similar to lilacs but a little fruitier. They have massive "sillage," you can smell them from a block away. Also, the mimosas we have in the southern US - not the yellow ones, but the trees with the fluffy pink Dr. Seussian blooms - they also smell soooooo divine.
RépondreSupprimerCentral Texas smells pretty divine at this time of year, what with all this and the jasmine and the wisteria... walking through my neighborhood is a treat.
StyleSpy, it's pretty frustrating not to be able to sniff this long-distance! I see the Chinaberry tree is also called "Persian lilac", which I may have smelled in Canada when I was younger, though often I suspect it was just plain lilac that was given this Persian label because it sounded better. Here in Paris we're moving past magnolia and cherry blossom. Wisteria were out in Milan...
RépondreSupprimerI love lilac - is the Yves Rocher Purple Lilac brand new, and will it be available online (to us in the USA?).
RépondreSupprimerLily of the valley has lost a lot of love, for the same reason as lilac: its over-use in functional products. Yet it is the main note in one of the most sublime fragrances ever, Diorissimo! In my search for the perfect LOV scent (aside from the Dior), I've understood how difficult it is to create a really good one. Still looking!
Patty, Purple Lilac went on sale here on April 1st, and I've seen it on the French website, but I don't know whether products are made available at the same time abroad.
RépondreSupprimerTotally agree on Diorissimo, it's a masterpiece. I haven't found any other one that's quite as glorious, but I just got samples from PureDistance (which cost a kidney) and I think there's an excellent muguet in there which I'm eager to run skin tests on...
I loved Annick Menardo's Moment de Bonheur for Yves Rocher, and Purple Lilac sounds compelling... but really, your description of the amber-orange Oriental bath oil tipped me over the edge. :)
RépondreSupprimerI love four-o'-clocks (Mirabilis jalapa). My mother grew several color varieties of this flowering shrub, all of which were fragrant-- but none so much as one particular cream-colored shrub whose blossoms smelled of lemon creme and saffron. If ever a perfumer chose this flower as a theme, I would melt with gratitude.
Olenska (should I say countess?), now I really need to smell that flower... Isn't it fascinating how different color blossoms yield slightly different scents? I'll definitely ask around to see which perfumer has smelled it...
RépondreSupprimerI love Texas wisteria but any perfume that featured it risks smelling like grape soda! ;-)
RépondreSupprimerHow are Yves Rocher perfumes regarded in France? The store in Munich was always mobbed. What are the most popular perfumes? Some of them have been pretty impressive, with some famous noses at the helm....(OK, funny image that.)
-Marla
Marla, here wisteria is very phenolic/cresolic with green and honeyed aspects, though there is that "Concord grape" note too.
RépondreSupprimerYves Rocher scents are certainly popular here in France since I've been told Comme une Evidence (by Menardo) is actually the N°1 best-selling perfume in France, which doesn't come up in stats because it's not sold on selective perfumery circuits.
The terroir is so important, isn't it? In Texas, wisteria is just pure grape soda, in the best possible sense.
RépondreSupprimerI didn't know CuE was by A. Menardo. It's quite nice!
-Marla
Marla, every little bit seems to make a difference, even what grows next to a tree or bush because it changes the nature of available nutrients in the soil. Which is why it's so important for perfumers to go and study nature up close and personal, something they don't necessarily get a chance to do enough of in their pristine offices...
RépondreSupprimerThere are some lovely suggestions in these comments.
RépondreSupprimerI'd love to smell Privet blooms recreated accurately in perfume because the scent is so evocative. Failing that, Narcissus or a Daphne, or a good Witch-hazel or a true Broom.
Clearly there are more things that I'd like made into perfume than I realised:-)
cheerio, Anna in Edinburgh
So many lovely suggestions! Style Spy, who is here in Austin, caught most of mine. Though there are a few mystery trees and shrubs in the neighborhood that have stopped me in my tracks, including one whose flowers are so tiny, and such a pale green, that they can hardly be seen at all...
RépondreSupprimerAnna, I had to look up privet, because in France it's got an entirely different name, "troène"... being in the same family as jasmine (and olive trees) they've got a related scent.
RépondreSupprimerDaphne poses an interesting problem in perfumery, since it is a combination of hyacinth, jasmine and carnation: would a fragrance inspired by it smell like daphne or just a floral bouquet?
Alyssa, I've experienced that: sometimes a lovely smell will creep up on me with no discernible source and if I'm not in a hurry, I go hunting for it. So I'm the mad lady sniffing at shrubs in parks.
RépondreSupprimerLike others here, I crave 'le temps de lilas' at this time of year, and so I had to go straight to the homepage and buy it. What can go wrong? As you say if it doesn't work on skin, it'll probably make a lovely roomspray:-) (oh and it was 40% reduced). Unfortunately I get very little almond in Phaedons lilac scent and too much lotv, but Soivohle's 'lilac and heliotrope' works well and of course Guerlinade works a treat.
RépondreSupprimerAsali, as I said to someone above, the Yves Rocher does tend to veer into muguet towards the end, but with 40% off, as you say, it's pretty much impossible to go wrong!
RépondreSupprimerLilacs were really early this year in Milan- couldn't believe it was them I was smelling in the park walking back home from Esxence! (Yes, please, next time organize a proper meeting with all your fans!)
RépondreSupprimerThanks for having put on top of the page one of my favourite Monet, I've just filled my eyes (and I would say... nostrils) with the beautiful Manet's lilac vase at Alte Nationalgalerie in Berlin.
Some people may know Dartington Hall in Devon (home of Dorothy Elmhurst in the 1920s and now an international arts centre)we live nearby and one May a few years ago walking throug the grounds I caught an intoxicating scent on a breeze. In the end i had to ask a gardener who smiled knowingly and showed me what it was - the small pendulous flowers of Eleagnus Umbellatus. A scent of heaven.
RépondreSupprimerIodine, I saw the wisteria in Milan from afar, but never got a chance to catch up with the lilacs. Terribly sorry I was in such a mad rush, I truly had no idea it was going to be that way.
RépondreSupprimerI thought of putting the Manet as illustration but the lilacs aren't purple, so I went for Monet instead. But Manet, ah... have you seen his pastel portraits in the Musée d'Orsay? The portrait of Irma Brunner is one of the most gorgeous portraits of a woman ever...
Maureen, I'm looking up elaeagnus as I'm typing this. I've found the elaeagnus angustifolia has a honeyed smell. I've also read "orange blossom" as a descriptive. Elaeagnus ebbingei is said to be jasmine/carnation. Another descriptive adds green, almost mossy-mushroomy aspects with a bit of hyacinth thrown in.
RépondreSupprimerI'm sure I've seen and smelled the shrub before, but without analysing the scent. Now I'll have to wait until I stumble on one!
I'm not sure, but this viburnum is a bit plain for a florist shop, so I think the ones you've seen are likely a different variety. ~~nozknoz
RépondreSupprimer