The Best (and Worst) of Scent in 2010 -- a group blog

I wasn't sure if I should participate in this, as I'm still a relative neophyte in such stellar company. And the choices here are from things I actually have smelled, seen or noticed, as opposed to the entire universe of what's out there -- don't know much about those celeb scents, for example (mainly because I don't have to) but here goes:

Perfumer of the year: Bertrand Duchafour

In memoriam  (discontinued): What does that really mean now? If I had to pick one it would be “Safari.” Not on the Lauren website now, but easily found elsewhere on the Web. Same with YSL’s “Nu,” another favorite. 

The (new) fragrance I loved: by Kilian Love & Tears (Surrender). The best jasmine I’ve tried yet.

Perfume of the year: L’Artisan "Nuit de Tubéreuse", for skillful groundwork and acceptance of the online perfume community as a viable facet of product development. Smells good too.

Trend we can do without: Ambrox/Ambroxan overdose -- like a little too much salt in the soup.

Best vetiver: Le Labo’s “Vetiver 46” 

Most ridiculous celebrity for a scent:  Any, but Matthew McConaughey, who  is rumored to eschew deodorant and most bathing, comes to mind.  

Best celebrity scent: If I have to pick one, “Like This” Tilda Swinton, Etat Libre d’Orange

Best Buzz: L’Artisan’s "Nuit de Tubéreuse" -- they did buzz right

I would have liked to see more of: visually oriented creative marketing like the Atelier Cologne postcards -- conceptual, blessedly free of silly softcore, writhing models and smarmy, heavy-breathing voice-overs

Best new fragrance concept: Calling an aromachemical an aromachemical (as in Escentric Molecules “Molecule 03”) 

Worst ad: Any print ad featuring a greasy naked man -- as in Marc Jacobs

Best ad: The Quay brothers short film for CDG's “Wonderwood” (as an art piece — I doubt that it would move much product)

Favorite Flacon: “Bang” -- it actually looks like a pocket flask that took a bullet, and I hear it wobbles a lot, too

Best natural scent: Dawn Spencer Hurwitz “Eau Natural” (limited edition for the “Mystery of Musk” event) 

Best name of a fragrance company: Escentric Molecules

Best Flanker: Estee Lauder "Sensuous Noir"

Rising star of 2010: Liz Zorn

Best  masculine department store fragrance:  “Midnight in Paris” Van Cleef & Arpels

Best shared niche (unisex): “Eau d’Épices” Tauer Perfumes

Best  feminine department store fragrance: “Kalimantan” Chantecaille

 Best fragrance under $50:  Estee Lauder “Sensuous Noir” 30 ml. size. 

(But really, any. There are so many more alternatives to buying perfume now: online, online discounters, auction sites and flea markets for vintage, decanters, travel sizes, bottle splits: the days when prices were “set” by a manufacturer are long gone.) Meanwhile, here's to Lauder for keeping their prices sane.

Other participating blogs are:

CaFleureBon,

 PerfumeShrine,

 Mais Que Perfume

Thanks to Michelyn Camen for coordinating this event!

Pitcher plants image from Google Images. Image may be subject to copyright.

Christmas Bourbon Balls

(Last week’s discussion about the cost of perfume (“Sore Subject”) turned out to be much more comprehensive than I’d imagined! Thanks, all of you commenters out there, for your very interesting and well thought-out remarks.) 

This week, I was going to give readers an erudite and accurate look at the history of one of my region’s finest products, Bourbon whiskey, to go with a favorite Christmas recipe. Until I started researching this morning, that is. (I might have known there would be disagreements amongst booze historians.) So that’s another post, another day. Here’s what I know: it’s made in Kentucky, or should be, and has a legal definition involving the percentage of corn used -- 50% or thereabouts -- used to make it. 

I do know that good Bourbon has a beautifully complex and unmistakable bouquet. I can’t drink much of it, because all dark liquors give me migraines, but I can make a favorite Christmas confection with it, which I do on Christmas Eve. 

In traditional Southern households, “dropping by,” or visiting, takes place on Christmas day, in the afternoon. Food and drink are part of the ritual, including the serving of Aunt Mary’s fruitcake, the jokes about Aunt Mary’s fruitcake, and these, the perfect alternative. In this way, you can experience two of the best things about Christmas in the South -- good whiskey and even better treats.

This recipe uses Vanilla Wafers, a packaged cookie (“biscuit” to those of you in the U.K.) but any shortbread can be substituted. Pecans are traditionally Southern for baking but if you don’t have them, use whatever unsalted nuts you do have. Any sweet and sticky syrup could be substituted for the Karo, as it  is simply the glue that holds the dough together. Any decent Bourbon will do, but the better the whiskey, the better these taste. And if you absolutely have to, it’s OK to use dark rum instead of Bourbon. 

Classic Southern Bourbon Balls

3 cups vanilla wafer crumbs (about 1 box) or shortbread crumbs, crushed thoroughly 

1/2 cup finely chopped pecans

1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

2 cups confectioners' sugar, divided

1/2 to 3/4 cup good Bourbon whiskey

3 tablespoons light corn syrup (“Karo” in the U.S.)

salt, if desired

In a large bowl, combine the crumbs, pecans, cocoa, 1 cup confectioners' sugar, bourbon, corn syrup and a dash of salt, if desired. This will make a stiff dough. Mix until well combined.

Spread the remaining 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar on a flat surface. Take spoonfuls of the dough and roll  into 1-inch balls, using hands, wet if necessary. Roll each ball in confectioners' sugar.

Chill several hours or overnight in the refrigerator. Makes 5 dozen.

Maker's Mark Bourbon photo from Google images. May be subject to copyright.

Sore Subject

I was working, doing consumer counseling, the day in autumn, 2008 that Lehman Brothers fell apart. The phones lit up with calls from elderly people begging us to reassure them that their retirement savings would be safe. I went home that day, fixed myself a nice big cocktail, and wrote "Fiddling While Rome Burns" for this blog.

The post was really about my own feelings of guilt, writing and obsessing about a luxury item while it felt like the sky was falling. We don’t talk about money much here. It’s taboo, in a way. We all know perfume is a luxury item, and if you can’t walk the walk, don’t talk the talk. But I’m not much of a spender, myself, especially since I’ve amassed a pretty sizable collection, mostly though bottle splits, fleabay, discounters and the like, and an even larger collection of decants and samples, through purchases and swaps. I laugh now when I think about my sticker shock -- just over 2  years ago -- at the sight of a $150 price tag for a bottle of EDP; that seems quaint now, since Barney’s New York is charging $300 (plus ever-obscene New York taxes, and shipping) -- for 100 mls of  Frederic Malle’s “Portrait of a Lady.”

Here’s the thing though. “Portrait” sounds like something I’d love, and I plan to sample it. So a little while ago, I went to my favorite samples/decants site to order some. And saw that their price for a 1 ml sample is (are you ready?) $8.99! 

You know, I don’t really think I can spend that on 1 ml  -- of anything. I have the $8.99, (plus shipping) but it just doesn’t seem right.

So I did a little price-checking around here and there. “Portrait” can be had in 50 mls, though not at Barney’s, apparently. Les Senteurs, in London, has it. At the equivalent of today’s Euro/dollar exchange rate, the cost would be $181.70, plus  overseas shipping, no doubt; my guess would be pretty close to $200 total. LuckyScent doesn’t carry Malle.  They do carry “by Killian” though, whose newish “Love & Tears Surrender” will set you back around $225 if you buy it from them and $228 from by Killian’s online site, for 50 mls, plus shipping. Samples on fleabay? None, except for a few of the more popular Malle scents like “Carnal Flower,” which is selling at $19.99 for 2 mls. Courtesy of “Fell Off a Truck, Inc.,” I suspect.

The quandry here, for a perfume collector, is this: it’s increasingly silly for me to buy a full bottle of anything. No matter how much I love it, I have quite a few bottles of things I also love, and I doubt if I’ll ever use up all the decants and samples. If you like perfume, some, and like to wear a “signature” scent, then a $300 bottle might just make sense; at $3/ml, sprayed generously every single day, it’s going to last you nearly a year; with normal use patterns, probably closer to two. The Love & Tears by Kilian --  the one that costs $225-8 plus tax &; shipping -- is an outlay of 75% of the cost of 100 mls of the “Portrait,” for half as much fragrance. OK, so I’m splitting hairs; the point is, do you love it? Say you can’t live without it? Have the means to buy it? Do -- just don’t go into debt over it. Me, I’ll get a decant (probably not this one though!) or wait for a bottle split or manage to procure a bit of it in all the ways I’ve learned...or I’ll just live without it. Sacrilege! I know. Go ahead. Revoke my perfumista card. 

It may be that, if in fact we are all writing for each other (“preaching to the choir” as they say down he-ah) the high-end perfume companies know we aren’t the ones out there buying those $300 bottles (or $720 ones, in the case of Clive Christian).  We might buy one and -- the horror! -- split it, though.  I read somewhere recently that the fragrance market pie will ultimately be divided into a huge slice of cheap, synthetic “designer” and celebuscents for the hoi polloi, a smaller one of outrageously expensive niche fragrances for the tasteful wealthy, and a tiny slice for anyone in between -- a fitting metaphor for the state of things in general, imho. (I hope that the artisanal lines will be able to step in there, but the expense of the raw ingredients makes their product pretty pricey, too.) I see it happening now, when a fine-fragrance line blithely doubles their prices in two years. The price of a piece of cake loaf of bread has gone up, but not that much!

For this reason, I find myself more interested in and writing more about vintage perfume. It can still be found reasonably, although it’s a lot of work. But that's ok. This is still a labor of love. As in any long-term relationship, though, I’m seeing more flaws that I did at first.

How about you?








Pile of money photo by Olfacta. Use it if you like.

Blood and Bourbon French

...and the winner of the “La Rose Jacqueminot” sample is: Olenska! Get in touch with me at the email address to the left and I’ll send it out posthaste.

I once wrote that New Orleans wasn’t really America. I still think that, in a more complicated way; it’s the city we almost lost. For some, it’s the Disneyland of debauchery. For me, New Orleans is not so much about debauchery as permission. 

Most of the locals carry a few extra pounds around with them. Here, it’s OK. Have another cocktail; it’s OK. Order your oysters fried; it’s OK. Stay out late, have some sugary fried beignets for breakfast, then go on home and, if you must, flog yourself, but don’t do it here. Guilt is boring. Here, in our nation of “No,” is the city that says “Yes.” That’s one of many reasons why New Orleans is a national treasure.

Some discoveries this time: Commander’s Palace. Can it be possible that I’ve never been there before? I was on a girls’ weekend with my Gulf Coast cousins, five of them, and one from London. We spent hours at brunch. (Why rush?) I had oysters with remoulade sauce, drum fish stuffed with crabmeat in a pool of creamy shellfish-based sauce and bread pudding souffle with whiskey sauce. There were three musicians, playing tableside, as accomplished as any I’ve ever heard, and the very fine trumpet player led us through a Second Line dance around the room -- something I’ll never forget. Later, we went to the the Bombay Club, a genuinely civilized lounge (translation: no loutish frat boys just in from Bourbon Street) with a real jazz trio. We ate at Irene’s, an of-the-moment fine Italian restaurant in the Upper Quarter. And I paid a visit to Bourbon French, the old perfumery on Royal Street in the Vieux Carre.

Royal Street is where the antiques are, fine little stores selling things like art glass and art prints and sets of Cartier silver. Bourbon French is a real perfumery, 167 years old, where the perfumes are mixed and made. They do custom scents as well as their own line of blends. I sampled some of those, and they were gentle, florals, mostly, some spice, the men’s line drier and tending to vetiver, and there were quite a few citrus-based blends. In other words, they were scents of a native’s New Orleans, from these and earlier times. In the brutal summer climate here, one needs citrus. And cooling vetiver. And fresh sweet florals, and lots of it all. These aren’t edgy or challenging perfumes, but clearly they’re meant to be worn, every day, as essential here as patience.

“Kus-kus,” the shop’s signature scent, is a soft and spicy fragrance created by original owner and perfumer August Doussan, in 1843. It goes to powder like a classic Chypre, a powder both soft and fresh. A 2007 blend, “La Vie Nouvelle” is a ladylike mixed floral. Soliflores are also available -- magnolia, gardenia, orange blossom, sweet olive, many others. (I already own their orange blossom perfume, which is wonderful.) All the scents can be mixed in various strengths. 

Supposedly, this shop was the inspiration for the Tom Robbins novel “Jitterbug Perfume,” although the two ladies working there -- everyone who works at this shop knows, really knows, perfume -- are quite modern. The prices are very reasonable.

I stopped by one of the perfume fora  earlier today, and found a discussion of a possible national meetup in New Orleans. If that happens, I might be back there sooner than I’d planned, but, whatever happens, I’ll be there, every year, to be with my family, renew those essential blood ties, and visit the city that’s also part of me now.

The drawing was conducted using random.org as usual.

Click here  to visit Bourbon French’s website. They ship.

Photo © Jennifer Stone|Dreamstime.com

La Rose Jacqueminot: Coty's First Perfume

My first sniff of “La Rose Jacqueminot” was from a sample vial. Few perfumes have surprised me as much as this one did. It smelled so modern. I had been expecting, oh, something ghastly-sweet, old-fashioned and of its time. This, instead, smelled timeless.

La Rose Jacqueminot was the perfume that the young Francois Coty threw his famous tantrum over, after an unsuccessful attempt to sell it to the Parisian department store Le Grands Magasins du Louvre. He smashed the bottle on the floor, drawing a crowd of women demanding some for themselves. (By some accounts, there may have been some hired frenzy-starters in the crowd.) In this unlikely but imaginative way, the Coty company was launched.

Nice story. I’m more inclined to believe it now than I used to be.

The bottle I have looks like it’s from the early Eighties. There’s a bar code on the bottom flap of the box, which is made of soft paperboard with slightly embossed printing. The “Div. Of Pfizer” sticker on the bottom means it was manufactured sometime between 1963 and 1992. 


Obviously, this is a rose fragrance, and there are violets, and maybe a bit of carnation; hints of green and spice and, definitely, some civet in the base. I don’t smell any “old aldehydes” here, either, but the bottle came from Alaska, so perhaps wasn’t exposed to much heat. The scent, though, is less about “notes” than about a feeling, a gestalt.

When I received this last week and immediately applied some, at first I thought I’d been duped. It seemed too subtle for an eau de parfum, and I wondered if the seller had diluted it. I was busy, though, and went on with my to-do’s. A short while later, I became aware of the most wonderful floral haze surrounding me. I felt like I was walking inside a rose-scented cloud. The perfume had bloomed, and now it was flowing all around me.

I’ve tried so many perfumes, hundreds and hundreds, some with no sillage, some with way too much, but this particular effect was new to me. I thought of two other perfumes I’ve sampled, YSL’s (vintage) Paris and Rosine’s La Rose, both of which are rose/violet powerhouses. I’ve smelled ionone, the synthetic violet aromachemical, from my perfume notes kit, and violet soliflores, and rose attars, soliflores and absolutes, and all kinds of rose-based perfumes, and there are not many I like this well.

How this stealth blooming quality was achieved, I have no idea. There is little information available on this scent. My bottle is probably between 25 and 30 years old. The rise-up-and-envelop action happens whether the scent is dabbed or sprayed. And it lasts, for hours.

This won’t be one of those the-past-was-better laments, because there are lots of great rose-based perfumes out there, vintage and modern -- (most of) the Les Parfums de Rosine line, many niche specialties featuring rose and vintage treasures like L’Arte de Gucci. I was merely curious about this one, until I smelled it. And realized that it could be more than a relic. Back and forth I vacillated, the usual fleabay dilemma, but when a fairly reasonable bottle showed up, I grabbed it. Now I feel like I own a piece of history. Best of all, it’s a wearable one!

Do you have a favorite rose perfume? What is it? Leave a comment by midnight, Monday, Dec. 6^th, U.S. Eastern Standard Time. I’ll do a drawing and send the winner a sample of La Rose Jacqueminot. 

The painting, by John Singer Sargent, was done in 1904, the year La Rose Jacqueminot was (by most accounts) released. Titled “Lady Speyer,” the portrait’s subject was Eleanora Speyer, daughter of a Prussian noble who fought in the Civil War. She shared superficialities with most of Sargent’s wealthy clients, but was very accomplished on her own. She was a virtuoso professional violinist and a Pulitizer Prize-winning poet who only began writing after her children were born. 

La Rose Jacqueminot shows up occasionally on auction sites. The prices vary, but it’s generally $2 to $3/ml, sometimes more. Some sample and decant sellers on the perfume forums have it, too.

Thanks to the website "Cleopatra's Boudoir" for providing information about the scent and its history.

Atelier Cologne Postcard and Sample Set -- Winner!

...and the winner is:


Vanessa!




(please get in touch with me at olfactarama at att dot net with your postal details and I'll send these to you posthaste!)


as usual, winner chosen using random.org.


Thanks for entering, everybody!

Outlaw Perfumes: Drawing Winner!

And the winner of "Belle Star" by Artemisia Perfumes is:


Absinthe Dragonfly!


Administrative Details:


Winner chosen, as always, using Random.org.

Absinthe Dragonfly, please get in touch with me at

olfactarama at att dot net, and I'll forward your postal

details to Artemisia Perfumes.

Thanks for entering, everybody, and thanks for reading!

I'll announce the winners for my other drawing, for the Atelier Perfumes postcard and sample set, on Wednesday, Nov. 24th and again on Friday, Nov. 25th. (Psssst...it's not too late to enter that one; just refer to my post from 11/12 "Special Edition: The Atelier Postcards" and leave a comment there, by 9 a.m. U.S. Eastern Standard Time tomorrow, Nov. 24th.)


It's Thanksgiving week here in the U.S., so I'll be back next Tuesday with a full post about a classic, vintage perfume.

Cheerio -- Olfacta

Outlaw Perfumes: Amazing, and my conclusions (aka "Outroduction")

Amazing Eau de Parfum

Perfumer: Jo Anne Bassett

Man oh man has this got oakmoss. Real oakmoss! I love it! It comes leaping out from my skin and it’s unmistakable. On reading the letter that came with “Amazing,” I see that the perfumer started building the fragrance around an oakmoss absolute. 

After the citrus/oakmoss calms down a bit, the florals begin to peek out. There is a spiciness too, a bit of the kind that gets up your nose and tickles -- but just a little. One ingredient I didn’t recognize was muhuhu. It’s a wood essence, something like sandalwood but darker. (I had thought I’d smelled sandalwood, but it must be this instead.) It’s sometimes called “African Sandalwood.”

I would call this a mossy citrus with floral notes. I haven’t yet worn it all day, but my guess is that the oakmoss will make it last. Another perfume that could be worn anywhere, by anyone -- accessible, well-blended, uplifting.

Notes: Oakmoss, cassie, cinnamon, vintage jasmine, lemon verbena, rose otto, muhuhu, ginger, yuzu, rhododendron, benzoin, violet leaf, cinnamon leaf and “19 others,” all outlaws.

Unisex. Sits close to the skin. Longevity t.b.a, but I’m guessing it will be good.

Outlaw Perfumes: The Outroduction

And so I come to the end of this week of testing these artisanal perfumes, researching  the ingredients and writing about them. I just have a few conclusions:

Compulsive risk-taker that I am, I have tested all of these on skin, and some pretty delicate skin at that! And, although my skin is sensitive and prone to rashes, not one of these perfumes gave me even the slightest rash, even after sun exposure (admittedly, winter sun.) I examined the sites where I’d put the perfumes with a jeweler’s loup and saw no redness, no irritation, nothing. Just sayin’. I mean, I know it’s not unbiased and all, like the research the IFRA sponsors is. 

Oh, and I’ve sniffed them too, every kind of sniff from quick and repeated to deep and long inhalations, drawing air up into my sinuses. And haven't had so much as a sneeze or stuffy nose, either.

I like these perfumes, a lot. I sometimes wish they had more sillage. I’m not sure if there is any way around that when using botanicals. But heaven knows there are plenty of room-clearers out there in the mass perfume market; there is plenty of space for Subtle.

Finally: One more time for emphasis: these are perfect for the modern no-perfume office environment. They are aristocratic in lineage and attitude. They speak in a low, well-modulated voice, and they never screech or laugh too loud (or chew gum, for that matter).  If “Angel” is Lady GaGa, these are Grace Kelly. You get the mood-elevating effects of a personal fragrance, without having to put up with cubicle-dwelling harpies intent upon removing all pleasure from the world singling you out as an offender. And wouldn’t that be nice?

Thanks to all the perfumers, and bloggers, and especially to Anya McCoy and Elena Vosnaki for putting this together!

As always, leave a comment here to be entered in the drawing for a bottle of “Belle Starr” by Artemisia. I’ll do the drawing and announce the winner tomorrow (Tuesday) November 23^rd by 11 a.m. Eastern US Standard Time.

Outlaw Perfumes: Light and Ambress

Drawing Alert! I will do the drawing for the full bottle of "Belle Starr" by Lisa Fong of Artemisia Perfumes on Tuesday, Nov. 23rd!

If you've left a comment on any of these "Outlaw" posts, you're entered. If not, leave one -- I'll announce the winner Tuesday morning.

Light 

Perfumer: Anya McCoy

Ever since the demise of “Love’s Fresh Lemon,” a zillion years ago, I’ve looked for a citrusy fragrance that smells real. It’s been just about impossible to find one. Either it smells fake or the other ingredients step all over the lemon note.

This one is different. “Light” opens with wonderful mixed citrus that never fades, remarkable in any fragrance. The reason is the Chinese aglaia flower, around which this perfume is built, hand-tinctured by McCoy. She writes that the flower, smaller than a lentil, has a scent like that of a fresh lemon held in the hand. (Most lemon oils are obtained by crushing the peels.) 

The name “Aglaia” was that of a Greek goddess, one of the Three Graces or Charites, three sisters who represented Good Cheer (Thalia), Mirth (Esphrosyne) and Splendor (Aglaia). Generally they were associated with charm, creativity and fertility, and were of uncertain godly parentage. Aglaia did particularly well -- there’s an asteroid named after her.

This is very much a unisex scent, and could be worn anywhere, by anyone. The inclusion of musky genet and the resinous frankincense base add complexity to the citrusy heart. Delicate and artisanal.

As always, ingredients on the IFRA's proposed no-no list are given in red italics. Untested essences are in pink italics.

Top notes: Sicilian cedrat, Israeli yellow grapefruit, French juniper berry.

Middle notes: Chinese aglaia flower*, French genet flower, North Carolina ambergris.

Base notes: Hojari frankincense oil, edible frankincense sacra resinoid

“Light” stays close to skin, as do most botanicals. Longevity is better on cloth than skin.

Ambress

Perfumer: Anya McCoy

I tried this without looking at the “notes,” and was very surprised to immediately recognize a deep, multifaceted rose essence. I’ve searched for an amber/rose commercial perfume, but most are very sweet on my skin, sugary and/or gourmand-y or caramel-like. The roses here are sweet, but that’s ok; they never get shrill, as synthetic roses sometimes do. They’re nicely balanced by the earthy ambers, patchouli and vanilla. And they’re entirely without the beanlike aroma I’ve found in some rose absolutes and scents made with them. The amber oil used here is real also, made from fossilized Himalayan amber. “Ambress” smells best on skin first (aka a “patch test”), then fabric near skin and, finally, paper.

“Ambress” also features a new kind of rose, the Zambian Princesse de Nassau Rosa Moschata, as well as the new amber oil. Well done!

A precious essence to save for special occasions. Stays close to skin. Longevity: about average for a botanical.

As always, ingredients on the IFRA's proposed no-no list are given in red italics. Untested essences are in pink italics.

Notes: Zambian  Princesse de Nassau Rosa Moschata, African musk rose otto, and Musk rose absolute, Madagascan ylang ylang, South African rose geranium sur fleurs

Base notes: Indonesian patchouli, Himalayan amber oil, Turkish styrax, Greek labdanum, Peruvian tonka bean, Salvadorean balsam tolu, Balsam of Peru, Chinese benzoin, Madagascan vanilla.