ADDED ON FRIDAY 15 JULY: I'd programmed this post ahead of time, before learning of the tragedy in Nice. I've considered taking it down, but since it's already up, I've only removed the jaunty intro... Last January after Charlie Hebdo I remember taking solace in smelling beautiful things. Hopefully it'll work this time too.
Queen of the Night (Grandiflora)
Bertrand Duchaufour invents the scent of the Night-blooming Cereus for
the Australian brand Grandiflora by hooking up the animal, vegetable and
mineral kingdoms through what seems like a whopping dose of indole. To conjure
the spectacular desert blossom, he combines two non-creamy white flowers,
orange blossom and pittosporum (the latter an accord). The made-up flower bears
imaginary fruit, sticky, purple-juiced berries with a grape bubble-gum, shaken
up by an incensy blast of cold desert air.
Cologne Indélébile (Frédéric Malle)
I’ve been stuck on this since I blind-smelled
it for the Olfactorama Awards (it lost out to Misia by Chanel, already a winner at the French Fifis). Without the
“cologne” cue to skew my perception, I entered Dominique Ropion’s composition
through the green, tannic effects of narcissus before recognizing it (within
three minutes: this may seem like “just” an eau de cologne, but it has a very
distinctive signature). I love the virtuosic play on functional fragrance
notes, including a Chernobyl-sized cloud of white musks, so much that I broke
down and bought the shower gel.
Veilleur de Nuit (Serge Lutens)
It isn’t hard to imagine “Night Watchman” veer into kinky Night Porter territory as Serge Lutens
teases chocolate into owning up to its bestial bent with lashes of civet,
castoreum, tuberose and vetiver. But the only pain it inflicts is the
price point. The rest is all yummy-dirty earthiness, mud and honey-caked fur.
Sous les Magnolias (Pierre Bourdon)
Authored by no less of a nose than the man who gave us Kouros, Cool Water and Féminité du
Bois (with Christopher Sheldrake), this limpid yet vintage-vibe fragrance
drove me to distraction for several days, since it smells like a long-lost
Roudnitska. In fact, I did think it
was a Roudnitska when I blind-smelled the blotter. Not a demented mistake: Bourdon,
whose father was deputy director of Dior perfumes, did study with the great
man. And I remember Frédéric Malle telling me, when he launched Eau de Magnolia, that Roudnitska had
always wanted to capture the flower’s scent… To sum up: I so need to buy this.
Ma Bête (Eris Parfums)
Another ghost , Ma Bête, composed by Antoine Lie
for Yesterday’s Perfumes author
Barbara Herman, hinted at several blasts from the past until I realized that
this was Lie’s take on the fabled Animalis base – a waxy, fatty, feral, honeyed
beast lurking in Shocking and Visa (probably), as well La Nuit (Paco Rabanne: the one Luca
Turin called “Tabu sprayed on a horse”),
Poison, Kouros and their unnatural offspring Parfum de Peau… Like wearing a vintage fur coat with the lining
ripped out.
Peau d’Ailleurs (Starck)
I shouldn’t be mentioning a scent coming out in September, but
this is a) by Annick Menardo, and anything by Annick is worth sticking your
shnoz into ASAP. And b) the famed French designer’s brief mentioned no notes,
only words like “meteorite” and “the cosmic smell of the void”… The result: a
compellingly weird, static, clean mineral
dust smell, into which materializes an apricot the size of an asteroid – it just
appears, as though it had tumbled out
of a black hole. As Mr. Spock would say: “Fascinating”.
Ensoleille-moi (Gas)
Recently relaunched, the confidential Ensoleille-moi, composed by Mathilde Laurent after she left
Guerlain, and finished by Isabelle Doyen when Mathilde was hired by Cartier, has the easy-going vibe and
airy texture of something that could’ve ended up as an Aqua Allegoria. The scent is worked around the monoï note, tiaré
blossom (a gardenia-like Polynesian flower) steeped in coconut oil. What’s most
surprising about it is the huge proportion of calone it contains. In
fact, there’s so much of it that it becomes invisible: the scale literally
changes the perception of the note, and it barely registers as an aquatic. I
give myself a squirt when I remember that despite the temperature, this is actually mid-summer on the calendar,
and that somewhere, in a parallel universe, I’m on the beach.
Géranium Équipage (Hermès)
I discovered this when I blind-smelled it for the Olfactorama Awards,
and voted for it as Best Masculine without a second thought. On paper, spices
shouldn’t work in summer, but given the minty-metallic splash of geranium
Jean-Claude Ellena added to Guy Robert’s 1970 classic, the clove-and-cinnamon
burn turns cool. Ellena’s elegance shines through those breezy, jazzy
reworkings – perhaps having something to start from turns the creative process
into more of a game. It makes me hope we haven’t smelled the last of JCE.
Must Gold (Cartier)
Again – sounding like a scratched record, am I? – I rediscovered this one
in an anonymous decant sent out for the Olfactorama Awards (it won Best
Feminine in a tie with Narciso).
First sniff. Brain lit up. “Yay, galbanum”, it said. A funky jasmine comes out
in the second blast, pushed forward by (bra cups filled with?) a powder-puff of
vanilla and musk. A thoroughly enjoyable variation on the original olfactory
oxymoron created by Alberto Morillas: the green Oriental.
Terracotta Le Parfum (Guerlain)
This was in my 2014 and 2015 summer
lists, but we all need that one perfume that means “if I’m smelling this, it
must be summer”. The matching sunscreen and moisturizer are my default settings
for the few days a year I spend near a pool.
For more summer round-ups, please visit:
The above illustration is of Pat Cleveland by Antonio Lopez.