My Top Ten Fragrances of 2014

2014 was the year niche moved out of the kennel (which is the meaning of the word in French). Frédéric Malle and Le Labo were snapped up by the Estée Lauder group. L’Artisan Parfumeur joined the Serge Lutens “export” series in certain Sephora stores – and continued indulging in a practice that makes their retailers howl: not only do they have online discount sales, but they slashed prices just before Christmas at their uber-chic Le Bon Marché counter. Not to mention that thirteen niche brands, including Arquiste, L’Artisan, Olfactive Studio and Miller Harris, are now sold by Amazon France in a “Beauté Prestige” section (Amazon.com carries different, less niche-y brands like Nuxe and L’Occitane).

On the “nose” front, while Christine Nagel joined Hermès early this year to succeed Jean-Claude Ellena, it was his daughter Céline Ellena who offered the first non-Jean-Claude scents for the brand, a range of lovely home fragrances. At Chanel, Olivier Polge presented his first fragrance in November, a new Exclusive to be commercialized in March: Misia, a gorgeously sensuous lipstick note on a furry, balsamic base. Dynasties have always been a tradition in the perfume industry…

Scent-wise, unsurprisingly, the oud tsunami shows no sign of relenting: Hermès and Chanel seem to be the only ones holding out at this stage (Cartier gave in last summer with a capsule collection). It's seeped into roses, which went woodier and darker – even the mainstream is now flirting with oud-y roses now, as Clinique’s new pillar Beyond Rose demonstrates.

The year has been rather rich in good mainstream fragrances – word around the labs has it that budgets have been going up in recent briefs. Bottega Veneta Knot, Narciso Rodriguez Narciso, Clinique Beyond Rose, Jour d’Hermès Absolu, Terre d'Hermès Eau très fraîche, B. Balenciaga and Burberry Brit Rhythm for Her didn’t make the final cut in this list, but only because it had to be kept down to 10 selections. I’d have also added the three Helmut Lang reeditions, Cuiron, Eau de cologne and Eau de Parfum… 

Oriental Express, Thierry Mugler

by Olivier Polge and Jean-Christophe Hérault (IFF)

I was so smitten by this that it went on my buy list as soon as my 1.5 ml sample dried up. Perversely, one could say it’s all that La Vie est Belle could’ve been: an iris-y gourmand whose foody tendencies are firmly kept in check with green, aromatic notes. The secret ingredient is a brand-new extraction of carrot seed by IFF, with woody, iris and apricot facets. This has been this winter’s staple for me. 

Œillet Bengale, Aedes de Venustas

by Rodrigo Flores Roux (Givaudan)

Aedes de Venustas has been consistently turning out fragrances with a strong character – Copal Azur, its fourth offering, impressed three of my friends so much they practically pried my decants from my hands. Œillet Bengale is a firecracker of a carnation for all of us spice-starved perfume lovers. Though its style is contemporary, it packs a vintage-style punch.

Cuir d’Ange, Hermès

by Jean-Claude Ellena

The latest Hermessence will not be Ellena’s swansong – there’s no definite date announced for his retirement. But lately, his fragrances seems to have become more emotional. And none the more so than Cuir d’Ange, a tribute to his favorite writer Jean Giono in the form of a floral, powdery leather scent as soft as the feather of a cherub. 

Terracotta Le Parfum, Guerlain

by Thierry Wasser

In France, the limited-edition fragrance sold out in a matter of days (I see it’s now back on the Guerlain website). Throughout the summer, I enjoyed the similarly-scented body line – the tanning cream, self-tanner and after-sun moisturizer are among my favorite products. Their radiant, zesty-green white floral blend is an easy-going tropical delight.

La Panthère, Cartier

by Mathilde Laurent

A tribute to 80s rose chypres by way of the 1920s – there is a fleeting quote of Mitsouko --, La Panthère pounces out of the fruitchouli bushes we have to hack our way through in cosmetics emporiums. Its gardenia and musk accord, silken in the eau de parfum, goes feral in the extrait. 

Eau de Magnolia, Frédéric Malle

by Carlos Benaïm (IFF)

Inspired by magnolia headspace capture, this delicate scent reinvents 70s-style chypre colognes. This is one fragrance that prompted many compliments -- and from perfumers, no less.

Rosabotanica, Balenciaga

by Oliver Polge and Jean-Christophe Hérault (IFF)

The last fragrance conceived under Nicolas Ghesquière’s tenure boasts the year’s most covetable packaging. A deconstructed rose with aromatic, almost medicinal notes, picked in a space-station apothecary’s garden.

Rose Infernale, Terry de Gunzburg

by Sidonie Lancesseur (Robertet)

Butched up with vetiver, incense and nutmeg, this is rose gone rogue: one of the year’s most interesting takes on the flower.

Smoke for the Soul, By Kilian

by Fabrice Pellegrin (Firmenich)

Far from coming off as a novelty scent, this deconstruction of the cannabis note, fiercely bitter, resinous and smoky, feels like smoke skimmed off a bottle of Bandit used as a Molotov cocktail. So strikingly original Jean-Claude Ellena himself was spotted buying it in a Parisian department store.

Le Parfum de la Maison, Hermès

by Céline Ellena

Hermès’ poetic home fragrance collection features not only highly original compositions, but the most charming presentation in this type of product, the origami horse. There’ll be a box of those in the leather-scented À cheval! under my Christmas tree even if I have to purchase it myself! 

For more 2014 round-ups, please visit:

Bois de Jasmin

Now Smell This

The Non-Blonde 

And a very happy, fragrant New Year to you all!

 

Mon Top 10 des parfums 2014

C'est en 2014, le niche est sorti de la niche. Le groupe Estée Lauder a croqué Le Labo, puis Frédéric Malle. L’Artisan Parfumeur a rejoint Serge Lutens chez Sephora et poursuivi une politique qui fait hurler ses détaillants, en soldant ses produits non seulement sur son site, mais au très chic Bon Marché juste avant Noël. Amazon.fr vend désormais treize marques de niche – dont L’Artisan, Arquiste, Olfactive Studio et Miller Harris – dans son corner Beauté Prestige.

Côté nez, si Christine Nagel a rejoint Hermès au début de l’année pour succéder à Jean-Claude Ellena, c’est à la fille de ce dernier, Céline Ellena, que l’on doit les premiers parfums “non-JCE”, une collection pour la maison. Chez Chanel, Olivier Polge qui remplacera son père Jacques a présenté sa première composition en novembre, un Exclusif commercialisé en mars : Misia, accord lipstick sensuel sur fond baumé de fourrure.

Côté jus, on ne s’étonnera guère que le tsunami oudé continue à déferler : les digues ne tiennent plus que chez Hermès et Chanel (Cartier a cédé l’été dernier avec trois « Heures Voyageuses »). Sous cette influence, les roses ont muté vers des notes plus sombres et plus boisées – même le mainstream flirte désormais avec la rose moyen-orientale, comme en atteste le nouveau pilier de Clinique, Beyond Rose.

Ledit mainstream nous a réservé d’heureuses surprises cette année – dans les maisons de composition, on affirme que les budgets alloués aux formules est en train de remonter. Knot de Bottega Veneta, Narciso de Narciso Rodriguez (lancé aux USA, prévu pour le printemps en France), Beyond Rose de Clinique, Jour d’Hermès Absolu, Terre d’Hermès Eau très fraiche, B. Balenciaga et Burberry Brit Rhythm for Her n’ont pas intégré cette liste uniquement parce qu’elle se restreint à dix sélections. J’y aurais sûrement ajouté les rééditions Helmut Lang, Cuiron, l’Eau de Cologne et l’Eau de Parfum… Pour lire mes billets sur les parfums sélectionnés, cliquez sur le titre.

Oriental Express, Mugler Les Exceptions

par Olivier Polge et Jean-Christophe Hérault (IFF)

Mon coup de foudre de l’année : dès que j’ai drainé mon échantillon, il m’en a fallu un flacon. Une vanille sombre comme un patchouli, modernisée par une tête aromatique verte puissamment diffusive et par une extraction particulière de la graine de carotte concoctée par IFF/LMR aux facettes irisées, boisées et abricotées. Si j’étais perverse, je dirais que c’est une reprise brillante de l’idée de base de La Vie est Belle (un iris gourmand), mais sans caramel.

Œillet Bengale, Aedes de Venustas

par Rodrigo Flores Roux (Givaudan)

À chaque lancement, Aedes de Venustas le confirme : c’est l’une des marques de niches les plus intéressantes, les plus olfactivement cohérentes des dernières années. J’aurais pu également intégrer son quatrième parfum Copal Azur à cette liste (ce mur d’encens intransigeant a tellement impressionné certains de mes amis que j’ai dû céder mes décants les uns après les autres). Mais c’est Œillet Bengale, fleur en petard embrasée d’épices et d’encens, qui s’est consumé sur ma peau.

Cuir d’Ange, Hermès

par Jean-Claude Ellena

Ce dernier Hermessence en date n’est sans doute pas le chant du cygne de Jean-Claude Ellena – aucune date n’est officiellement annoncée pour son départ d’Hermès --, mais témoigne d’une évolution vers une parfumerie plus émouvante (ou alors, c’est simplement qu’à force, je « rentre » mieux dans ses compositions ?). Cuir d’Ange, hommage à Jean Giono, exfiltre le cuir de la Russie pour lui conférer la douceur florale et poudrées d’une plume d’aile de chérubin. 

Terracotta Le Parfum, Guerlain

par Thierry Wasser

Cette édition limitée s’est retrouvée en rupture de stock cet été sur plusieurs points de vente Guerlain (mais je vois que le site de la marque la propose à nouveau). Un floral tropical lumineux d’une délicieuse simplicité qui parfume également une ligne solaire, dont une crème « after-sun » absolument irrésistible (dont je préfère encore la note à celle du parfum).

La Panthère, Cartier

par Mathilde Laurent

Hommage aux grands chypres rosés des 80s avec un crochet par les années 20 – on y subodore Mitsouko --, La Panthère bondit hors des buissons de patchoufruits entre lesquels il faut se frayer un passage à la machette dans les self-services de la beauté. Son accord musc et gardénia, soyeux dans l’eau de parfum, gagne en férocité fauve dans l’extrait. On en ronronne.

Eau de Magnolia, Frédéric Malle

par Carlos Benaïm (IFF)

Inspiré par la lecture de captures « headspace » de magnolia, ce parfum délicat réinvente les colognes chyprées des 70s. Et m’a valu les compliments de parfumeurs intrigués par mon sillage, rien de moins.

Rosabotanica, Balenciaga

par Oliver Polge et Jean-Christophe Hérault (IFF)

Le dernier parfum conçu sous la houlette de Nicolas Ghesquière chez Balenciaga. Un packaging éminemment convoitable, qui habille une rose déconstruite virant aux notes aromatiques-boisées, presque médicinales, cueillie par un apothicaire de science-fiction dans le jardin de simples d’une station orbitale.

Rose Infernale, Terry de Gunzburg

par Sidonie Lancesseur (Robertet)

En se prenant un shoot de virilité à coups de vétiver, d’encens et de muscade, cette rose mutante s’arrache, comme Rosabotanica, aux clichés de la « reine des fleurs ».

Smoke for the Soul, By Kilian

par Fabrice Pellegrin (Firmenich)

Ça aurait pu être un clin d’œil, une sorte de blague olfactive… Mais cette déconstruction de l’odeur du cannabis, amère, résineuse et brûlante, pourrait être une bouffée de fumée s’échappant d’un flacon de Bandit détourné en cocktail Molotov. Tellement original qu’on aurait vu Jean-Claude Ellena en acheter un flacon dans un grand magasin parisien, c’est dire.

Le Parfum de la Maison, Hermès

par Céline Ellena

Cette nouvelle collection d’Hermès propose des compositions originales et poétiques sous l’une des formes les plus adorables que j’aie vues pour ce genre de produit : un cheval en origami imprégné de senteur. Je convoite une boîte de ces mini-Pégase, dans la note cuirée À cheval!, à tel point que si elle n’apparaît pas sous l’arbre à Noël, je me l’offre.

Pour découvrir d’autres Top 10 de 2014 (en anglais), 

cliquez sur les liens suivants:

Bois de Jasmin

Now Smell This

Perfume Posse

The Non-Blonde 

Je vous souhaite une année 2015 délicieusement parfumée !

 

Sniffing sugar: of gourmands in general and Lolita Lempicka in particular

This past semester, I taught perfume history to 160 luxury marketing students. They’re 19, and when they sniff anything made before the 1990s, most of them will blurt out “this smells of old lady”– although one girl surprised me by identifying Mitsouko in a blind-smelling exercise, and further still by telling me it had been her first fragrance. But as a rule, their tastes overlap to a molecule with what the market churns out. Aquatics they like – they pick Shalimar Souffle de Parfum over the original. Gourmands, they adore.

The yen for sugar is so deeply rooted that some experiments have demonstrated it is literally an addiction. In 2007, a French team of researchers from theUniversity of Bordeaux showed that given the choice between saccharin-flavored water and intravenous cocaine, 94% of their lab rats picked the sweet stuff: “The preference for saccharin was not attributable to its unnatural ability to induce sweetness without calories because the same preference was also observed with sucrose, a natural sugar. Finally, the preference for saccharin was not surmountable by increasing doses of cocaine and was observed despite either cocaine intoxication, sensitization or intake escalation–the latter being a hallmark of drug addiction.”

As I was preparing my lesson on Angel, I suddenly wondered why the perfume industry had waited until 1992 to leverage this addiction. Ethyl maltol (a cotton-candy flavoring ingredient) had already been used in perfumery, but in minute quantities. Angel’s overdose of it was initially considered an aberration by professionals, and even the public took a while to embrace it – the scent was not immediately a blockbuster. It’s likely that until then, it had occurred neither to perfumers nor to consumers that this type of note was a “licit” ingredient in fragrance. Angel lifted the inhibition. Once it became a success, the dam collapsed: sugar, caramel and jam swept into the vats. And ever since, as the public’s tolerance for diabetic coma-inducing juices grew, the glycemic index of perfumes has been escalating in a glucose-driven armaments race.

In an article I wrote for the French edition of Elle, I argued that the most aesthetically successful gourmands were those that shifted the dessert menu onto classic fragrance structures. Anaïs Anaïs Premier Délice, for instance, is actually a chypre: pear stands in for the fruity top notes, and cocoa acts like patchouli. Candy by Prada is an oriental with caramel added. Serge Lutens Rahät Loukoum extrapolates on the anisic-almondy floral oriental construction initiated by L’Heure Bleue, as does Lolita Lempicka. But how far can perfumers go in this direction? When does a gourmand cease to refer to perfumery and topple over into industrial flavoring?

Lolita Lempicka is a fairly gutsy company, or has been up to now: though none of its fragrances has had the same success as its first one, two of its subsequent launches were attempts at doing gourmand creatively. The 2006 “L” by Maurice Roucel played on the burnt, salty caramel tones of immortelle. The 2013 Elle l’aime by Christine Nagel and Serge Majoullier (not to be confused with the 2014 L L’aime) turned coconut flesh into creamy petals. With Sweet, the brand breaks down and dives straight into the caramel cauldron.

Sweet is clearly aimed at my students’ age group: it chimes in with their olfactory associations, which mainly come from candy, toiletries or kiddie medicine, whereas to a more adult nose, it smells of lab-brewed cherry-flavored syrup. Granted, it does what it says on the bottle – but then so does Candy, in a much more sophisticated way, because it maintains a classic structure. Sweet actually smells less sophisticated than some industrial syrups. Short of diluting those in alcohol, it seems hard to go further down the sugary path.

In retrospect, the pioneering, cheerfully girly gourmand Lolita Lempicka now feels like the epitome of restraint, tastefulness and maturity. Its structure is strong enough to withstand yearly limited-edition variations while still remaining totally identifiable. Of course, it helps that those variations are concocted by Annick Menardo, who authored the original. Minuit Sonne is the 11^th such variation. It is not to be confused with the 2004 and 2005 Eau de Minuit, which lists amarena cherry in its notes. But it might be identical to the 2012 version. Whatever.

Though its glitter-bedecked bottle might leave your dresser (and fingers) looking like you were mugged by a mob of 5-year-old girls on a sugar high, the 2014 Eau de Minuit tweaks the original just enough to glam-goth it up. Annick Menardo has managed to make it chewier and darker – you can practically taste the myrrh-laced, mouth-burning liquorish – while opening up its heart with jasmine and iris. The woodiness of the liquorish, iris and violet keep the sweetness in check; in a side-by-side with the original eau de parfum, it feels more substantial and it is longer lasting. It may be called Lolita, but it’s all growed up.

Picture of a candy stand at La Boqueria in Barcelona sourced from Wikimedia Commons.