WINN-AH!

I was going to do some real-time sampling and reporting today. But I have the worst cold ever and can't smell a thing....let's hope this doesn't last a whole week. Back soon!

The box of tissues image is from Google Images, photographer not credited.

Miles on Vials

Anyone who’s been a fragrance enthusiast for a while has one. It may be a bucket or a cigar box or a plastic bag. I know it’s there somewhere, lurking, like those jeans in the way-back back of the closet (you know the ones). Like the photo album with all those pictures of you when you were fourteen and in full 80’s gear. Like those, er, Polaroids in the shoe box.

Swap etiquette is a curious thing. Because it often takes place between women who don’t know each other, there are certain unwritten rules. (It has occurred to me that these same unwritten rules, and there are many of them, are precisely what drives the opposite sex to distraction, but maybe that’s another topic.)

Anyway, one of the rules is that you always include langiappe, pronounced “lawn-yawp,” which is a Louisiana term for “a little something extra.” To not do so could be seen as crude, gross, selfish, greedy or all these. So one generally throws that little something extra into the package, typically something you tried and didn’t much like. Often it’s the langiappe you got from somebody else. 

Some of these vials have more miles on them than George Clooney’s itinerant hatchet-man character in “Up in the Air.”  I’ve gotten swap vials with glass worn so thin that they break when dropped. Some have seen the world; some have seen it more than once. Some have labels so stained and blurred that I can’t tell what’s in them. Some, however, are treasures; perfumes from the truly generous, or, occasionally, the newbie passing along a sample with has no idea what she has.

So let’s take a random sampling from my (plastic, Zip-Loc, quart-sized) swaps bag and see what’s in there.

Chanel Chance. Cute little roll-on bottle with a pink lid. About half a ml of cloudy juice that smells the same to me as every other mass-market “frag.” What is that stuff they put in there? And cloudy juice in a roll-on = somebody else’s shed skin cells, yuck. This one goes in the trash.

Annick Goutal Sables. Of maple-syrup fame. Not bad if you love immortelle, but I’d rather not smell like the short stack at IHOP.

Bulgari Omnia Crystalline. One of the endless Omnia flankers, not bad particularly, but there’s no reason to wear it.

Patou Adieu Sagasse EDT. What is this doing in the swaps bag? I’m keeping this one. Based on carnation but soft, not sharp. Maybe one of the 90’s reissues?

Outrageous! One of the (few) missteps from Frederick Malle. A focused, cynical attempt to lure the kiddies, apparently, with notes of Caipirinha -- which is a fire-water sugar-based sneaks-up-on-ya liquor I’ve been known to imbibe at Brazilian steakhouses -- clean laundry (white musk), etc. In general, any fragrance with an exclamation mark in the name should be avoided.

Comptoir Sud Pacifique Le Rose Santal -- about 1 ml in one of those vials that looks like it’s seen the world. Neither rose nor santal, just something (very) vaguely floral.

Parfums DelRae Amoureuse -- Partially peeled-off label; long dark hair (not mine) stuck to it. Lots of people love this. I’m just not much of a lily fan.

Donna Karan Gold -- A nifty manufacturer’s spray vial with about 1 ml in it. Another lily fragrance, though. Oh well.

Bond No. 9 Saks Fifth Avenue for Her -- A good sized manufacturer’s vial with about 1 ml of the nastiest, waxiest, room-clearingest TUBEROSE! I’ve yet experienced.

Juicy Couture Viva La Juicy -- Somewhere in the world there is a tank farm containing what is apparently the fragrance base for every aimed-at-the-young elixir on the market. This smells a lot like “Chance” which smells a lot like “Beyonce Heat” which smells a lot like...well, every other bolted-to-the-shelf tester bottle I saw at Target last week. 

Rochas Tocade -  About half a mil in a 3 ml sprayer. Hey, I like Tocade a lot, especially in winter, especially for sleeping. But, dear anonymous swapper, spring for some 1 ml vials, willya? To put a few drops of fragrance in a big container makes you look stingy.

Perry Ellis 360 White EDT -- Smells something like a men’s fragrance -- I swear there’s some dihydromercanol in there. “White” must be label-speak for “white musk.” Generic “designer” stuff, meh.

I haven’t been swapping much lately, and none at all with strangers, so I haven’t looked in my swaps bag for quite some time. I was surprised at its contents. Not all of it was Viva La Juicy -- there’s some pretty good stuff in there. Buried treasure, one might say. 

So...what’s in yours?






Photo by Pat Borow.

Agent Provocateur: Outside Agitator?

Not too long ago I was reading a conversation on a perfume forum in which a young lady anticipating an interesting date was asking for advice from the fragrance experts therein. She had been receiving mixed signals from said date. What perfume should she wear to turn the tide?

The answers were varied, but the name “Agent Provocateur” kept coming up. I knew the name but had never smelled the scent. It was inexpensive on the online discount sites, so I ordered a small bottle.

I loved it, a dusky rose, aromatic woody drydown but...the most seductive of perfumes? Really? I began to think about that. What is it that makes a scent seductive?

There are a handful of fragrances the initiated call “skank.” This is generally meant to suggest well used ladies’ undergarments, and is done with basenotes like musk and civet, the animalics.  Muscs Koublai Khan, L’Air de Rien and, lately, L’Artisan’s al-Oudh come to mind, particularly the last one. (Does that one ever.) I was talking with a male friend about this subject category: B.O., unwashed clothing, things like that, which he called “human musk.” Well, yeah, I guess so, but I’m American, and in my culture human musk is highly undesirable to most people. We’re famous for being like that.

Anyway. The definition of the phrase “Agent Provocateur” involves someone who is employed by the police or other enforcement agency to entice or provoke another person into committing an illegal act. In other words, entrapment. 

I think this is all a little silly. Given what I know about what’s called “chemistry,” attraction is either there or it isn’t, and it tends to be non-negotiable. Things like BO or jet-fuel garlic breath might interfere with it, fragrance might enhance it, but no perfume is likely to turn indifference into bodice-ripping passion in my opinion, although maybe it can’t hurt. And there you have it; the real basis for a billion-dollar business whose mainstream marketeers believe that nobody’s going to plonk down big bucks on an elixir  that makes them anything less than utterly irresistible!  (Cut to Kate Moss writhing around the back seat of a limo.)

The company that makes this fragrance also makes very expensive hooker-style lingerie. It’s interesting, at least to me, that the fragrance standing alone without all that black lace baggage is, well, pleasant. In the top it’s a rose with saffron and a little spice (coriander, which I usually dislike, but not here); floral mids, and amber, musk and vetiver -- which you really can smell -- later on. Some classify it as a “mossy woods,” others as a spicy oriental. I’d call it a woody oriental with saffron notes. Whatever you want to call it, it’s delightful, but let’s see if we can divest it from all the dirty-knickers hype.

“Only the assured woman need apply.” (this from perfume critic Katie Puckrick.)

“Excellent.” (four stars)  -- New York Times perfume critic Chandler Burr. 

“Boisterous.” “Sheer audacity.” “Deep and rich with a knowingly naughty undercurrent.” (various commentators on Basenotes.)

To me, the difference between skank and not skank comes down to this: Would I feel comfortable wearing it to the grocery store? If the answer is “yes,” then the fragrance isn’t skank. I would happily wear this one just about anywhere, and I certainly wouldn’t say that about al-Oudh.

So I’d say this instead: ignore the silly hype. So the parent company makes some of the world’s hottest underwear. That doesn’t mean you shouldn't wear the fragrance to the grocery store. It’s a beautiful darkish rose with an aromatic woods and vetiver drydown that reminds me of vintage Magie Noire. It’s inexpensive on the online discount sites. And it lasts. 

So...what about you? What do you think about the laws of attraction? Can a perfume really make that happen, or is it just more marketing?

Leave a comment; I’ll do a drawing on Thursday, August 12^th and the lucky winner will get a generous sample of “Agent Provocateur.”

Notes for “Agent Provocateur” include saffron, coriander, Moroccan rose, jasmine, magnolia, ylang-ylang, white gardenia, vetiver, amber and musk.

The photo is of Mata Hari, from the fansite Mata-Hari.com.

“Agent Provocateur” was released in 2000. There have been several flankers since then.

The perfumer was Christian Provenzano, of CPL Aromas.

Mystery of Musk: Dionysus, Temple of Musk, Sensual Embrace and Eau Natural

LAST REMINDER: For a chance at winning a bottle of “Verdigris,” leave a comment (but no later than 10 a.m., Friday June 9, East Coast US Daylight Time.) I will select the winner (using random.org) by 11 a.m.that Friday morning, and post it on Olfactarama that same day. Good luck!

Dionysus

There is a painter here who does nothing but still lifes of wine related subjects -- wine bottles (with wine in them, presumably), glasses, accessories like expensive corkscrews, loaves of bread, wedges of cheese and so on. He does a great business, I hear, with aspirational Atlantans (and, regrettably, there are many) who want their wet bars/wine tasting rooms decorated with original art. Somebody ought to hook these two up.

“Dionysus” is high concept. It opens with a foresty herbal note that manages to be slightly effervescent, and quickly reveals a series of wine-related mids: red wine, of course, but also the lees -- the mash of grape skins, pulp and seed left after pressing, from which fire-waters like eau de vie are made -- the oak-y aging barrels, a slight astringent tannin note which remains all the way through to the dry down and...cheese. Yes, there is a suggestion of cheese in here somewhere, a decent Parmesan maybe? It’s a mellow cheese, not a stinky one.

No list of notes or letter or anything except a business card came with this sample, which arrived after the deadline. There is a fairly informative website, and blog which mentions ambergris and African Stone as two of of the ingredients. The spray sample was generously sized, so I’ve been able to try it a few times, and I like the final drydown best, when it fades into a slightly tannic musk.

Concept, like I said. Dionysus was, after all, the god of wine, theater, frenzied ecstasy and hordes of maddened followers. To wear this as one’s signature scent would take real courage but, as a concept, it’s interesting and different.

Perfumer: Adam Gottschalk, New York. The website is http://lordsjester.com.

For the painting, I thought of wine of course, but also some organic shapes. The painting is a watercolor.

Painting by Pat Borow, © 2010. All rights reserved.

Temple of Musk

“Strange Invisible Perfumes” is a retail store and perfume lab Los Angeles, specializing in botanical fragrances. And, like New York, L.A. is a get-to-the-point kind of place. 

But everything about this presentation seemed rushed and out of focus. The package missed the delivery deadline. The fragrance itself is a tiny sample -- barely enough for one proper wearing. The supporting materials are vague -- what exactly is an “unapologetic musk composition” anyway? And the website isn’t what I’d call packed with information.

I’ve agonized over this one, because I don’t want to trash someone’s labor of love. But, when I opened it and put a bit on my skin, thereby using up half the sample, all I could think of was that this was supposed to be a citrus top note but somehow it morphed into the well-known fragrance descriptive term “cat pee.” Before too long a berry-like fruitiness arose, struggling with the pee note. At some point a truce was declared, but by then the scent had faded to barely perceptible levels.

I decided to try it on a blotter. Same, only the unpleasant note is stronger. And my sample is nearly gone now.

After a time, both paper and skin evidence a descent into a generic sort of muskiness -- not chemical musks at least -- and there is a little bit of vanilla and an unusual myrtle the perfumer says she hydro-distills from trees that grow on her family’s land. I don’t smell the strawberry-resin note she says it has, though, or any myrtle note.

Finally, the fragrance has disappeared my skin within less than an hour, short-lived even for a natural perfume.

In natural perfumery, the skin “notes” count, so I’ll try it one more time before posting my review.  Maybe the vial leaked….maybe the heat of shipping in July changed the perfume’s chemistry….maybe there were more reviewers than the perfumer suspected there would be, hence the minuscule sample.  (Later: unfortunately, it hasn't changed.)

Notes for “Temple of Musk” include hydro-distilled temple mandarin, organic black currant, the aforementioned “unapologetic musk composition,” organic vanilla and the special home-grown myrtle distillation.

The painting was done in watercolor and liquid pigment, using two colors which the scent evoked for me. They are complementary and mix into a pale gray.

Perfumer: Alexandra Balahoutis, Strange Invisible Perfumes. The website is www.siperfumes.com.

Painting by Pat Borow, © 2010. All rights reserved.

Sensual Embrace

This one reminds me of classic vintage perfume. The top notes are listed as citrus, but it doesn’t smell like tart fruit. It has an impression of coolness, like marble, which lasts all the way through. 

There is an ethereal quality to this blend, and it seems somehow more transparent, more water-like, than any of the others I’ve tried. That is not to say it’s not musky, though. The perfumer states in her letter that she wanted to make a perfume to “throw a punch,” and this one does, once it gets to the bottom accords. Prior to that, I’d say it was more luminous than aggressive.

The list of “notes” is not complete, but the ones listed are: green mandarin and clementine (for a playful lift, the perfumer says) ; vintage jasmine sambac, tobacco, vintage Mysore sandalwood, amber accord, rose de mai, violet, orange blossom and tuberose. I think this would be a wonderful summer fragrance. It is an EDP (eau de parfum) in strength.

For the painting, I chose to use a pastel blue-green for the background, because of the cool and luminous quality the fragrance has, with floral colors in the center and all of it descending into a smoky base. The mediums are watercolor and gouache.

Perfumer: Joanne Bassett of Cardiff-by-the-Sea, California. The website is www.JoAnneBassett.com  .

Painting by Pat Borow, © 2010. All rights reserved.

Eau Natural

“Eau Natural” is an amazing fragrance. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz is a very experienced and established natural perfumer, and it shows in the way she’s handled the ingredients here. The perfume -- and it is perfume strength+ at 30% -- comes at you with black pepper, in the most skillful use of this essence I can remember. And then it’s florals and musk and honey, oh my!*

Any of you who read this blog regularly know that I’m a big fan of what is called “skank.” My very first self-selected, beloved commercial perfume, Bal a Versailles, swam in it. So this one feels just right on my skin. Not strange at all. The black pepper tickles the trigeminal nerve (the one that tells us that something is hot and spicy, usually food). The florals come forward to add to the impression of a down and dirty scent, because they’re so well-incorporated into the base notes. Those are so perfectly blended that no particular one (even the oudh) stands out. And because it is in such high concentration, it lasts and lasts...and lasts.

Here are the notes: Cassis bud absolute (top) BlackPepper EO (essential oil), Carrot Seed EO, Seaweed Absolute (tops); Rose Absolute, Sambac Jasmine Absolute, Beeswax Absolute, Spikenard (heart); Aged East Indian Sandalwood, Ambrette Seed CO2 absolute, Angelica Root EO, Aged Labdanum EO, Aged East Indian Patchouli EO, Oudh EO, Cumin EO, Vanilla Absolute and Vetiver EO.

(Incidentally, spikenard oil is sold as a medium for oil painting. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to do, but I’ve always thought it was much too expensive for mixing into paint. Perfume, on the other hand…)

I transferred a life drawing I’d made to the surface for this painting. Media is flat black gesso, titanium white acrylic and archival ink on sanded paper.

Perfumer: Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, Boulder, Colorado.

 The website is www.DSHperfumes.com.

*forgive me; I watched “The Wizard of Oz” last week.

Painting by Pat Borow, © 2010. All rights reserved.

“Mystery of Musk” is a group blogging project. Other participating bloggers are:

I Smell Therefore I Am - Abigail Levin

Perfume Shrine - Elena Vosnaki 

The Non Blonde - Gaia Fishler

Indie Perfumes - Lucy Raubertas

Bitter Grace Notes - Maria Browning

CaFleureBon - Michelyn Camen

First Nerve - Avery Gilbert

Olfactory Rescue Service - Ross Urrere

Grain de Musc - Denyse Beaulieu

I'll be back Friday with the winner.

Tremendous thanks to Anya McCoy and Elena Vosnaki, who 

pulled all of this together!

Samples: Trick or Treat!

Like many of you, I've been amassing samples lately. Swaps, freebies, kind 'fumebuds...you know. And it's not as though I haven't wanted to try them. I mean, I have tried some of them. At night, before going to sleep...and in the morning I'm thinking, now what did that one smell like?

It's just that Olfacta has been distracted lately. Taking a course that actually requires outside reading and work. Not that anybody else actually does much, but hey, I always was the kid in school that showed up each September with a spanking new notebook and a handful of sharpened pencils. Anyway it's almost over, so.

If you do a lot of swapping, then you know that it's Basic Swap Etiquette to throw in a couple of "extras." Add that to the free-with-purchase handful you get from the niche sellers and you're talking about a very fine candy haul. So, I did a customized trick or treat. I put them all in a bag and picked five at random (no peeking, honest) and am having myself one fine little Halloween party.

Remember, though, how you'd trade the Halloween candy? For example, a peanut butter cup for your brother's miniature bar of chocolate? If I could trade one of the five, which one would it be? So here goes: my random candy.

Parfums Del Rae Amoureuse: This reminds me of Stargazer lilies, a flower I often see at Christmas, with its creamy white petals, red dots, orange stamens and heavy, hammy fragrance. Amoureuse opens a little sharp with tangerine -- a difficult note for me -- but drifts into an unusual floral mix. It's notable for the skill with which perfumer Michael Roudnitska used the divas, jasmine and tuberose, but somehow kept them from knocking the rest of the cast off the stage. The meaty note I detect must be from the ginger lily and, especially, the honey. I'd call this a honey fragrance. And, honey, it ain't shy. Not an office scent, but who cares?

Juliette Has a Gun Citizen Queen: I'm playing corporate wife at the company's holiday party. The boss's (third) wife approaches. "Ummm, you smell good," she says. "Is that Chanel?"

"No, it's Juliette Has a Gun."

Um, forget it.

The point is that unless this sample is mislabled, I don't get the brand's danger-gal imagery here, because this is appropriate for a Queen of the noble variety, or any variety. It's a lovely floral, a "modern chypre" (a term which usually reminds me only of what we've lost) with rose, and amber, a little musk, a little powder, some aldehydes, a little violet. Ok, it is not a background scent but, applied sparingly, it could be worn anywhere, by anyone. Perfumer: Romano Ricci.

Parfums de Nicolai Cologne Solange: A most serviceable, if not unique, summertime cologne, with the usual suspects: neroli, sandalwood, grapefruit, lemon verbena, Sicilian bergamot. On me, the neroli predominates, which makes it a little sweeter than, say, 4711. What's not to like? And it's relatively inexpensive. The perfumer is Patricia de Nicolai.

Miller Harris L'Air de Rien: Have you ever bought a vintage sweater and realized that, once you've worn it for a few hours, it's exuding the scent of somebody else's B.O.? Not rank old sweat, just someone else's...essence? Not necessarily bad, but not yours? The "official" notes don't tell this story (French oakmoss, Tunisian neroli, sweet musk, amber, vanilla). C'mon, MH! This is a sweet and dirty lowdown musk. It's really captivating, if you like that kind of thing, but be warned. Perfumer: Lyn Harris.

Ormonde Jayne Frangipani: OMG. This is a cool lei around your neck on a hot Hawaiian day, made of linden flowers, white frangipani, a few orchids...it's a green-tinged, just-this-side-of-plum tropical floral, but there is nothing cloying or heavy here. Other "notes" include magnolia, lime, rose, tuberose, water lily, amber, musk and cedar. Mixed with consummate skill. The perfumer is Linda Pilkington of Ormonde Jayne.

Of all of these, I suppose I'd be most likely to trade the Cologne Solange, because, nice as it is, it's not a standout. But for someone who doesn't already have five or ten citrus-based summer scents, this just might be The One.

Full disclosure: The Ormonde Jayne Frangipani sample was part of a set I got courtesy of Ormonde Jayne after "Olfactarama" appeared on Fragrantica.

"Horror Girl" photo copyright Konstantin Sutyagin, used under license from Dreamstime.com.

Let's Play Samples Jeopardy!

After a few months of MUA swapping, I’ve got samples all over the place. They’re on the nightstand. They’re in little boxes here and there. They’re in my handbag and in my pockets and on kitchen counters. The other day I found one in the refrigerator.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if my house ever got searched. What would the cops make of all these little zip-loc bags, hundreds of vials, inch-high screw-top bottles (let's not go there), pipettes, eyedroppers and teensy-weensy funnels?

My derriere would be hauled off to the slammer, that’s what. Intent to distribute, well, I’m sure they’d figure out something.

I’m not the best at identifying “notes.” I’m in awe of those who can, with one delicate and refined sniff, say, “Ahhhh. Of course. Hyacinth. Ambrette seed. Isobutylquioline-hydrocitralcellu-benzodiazapine-18.” I’m not there. Actually I don’t think I’ll ever be there.

But I wanted to really kinda grok* these samples. So I made a whole bunch of little watercolor paper strips – one 18 x 24 sheet of Arches will provide a huge supply – and applied a drop from each sample. These hold onto the notes for awhile, as the paper is thick and fibrous (and besides, I’m not painting on it much these days anyway). I thought, I’ll sniff a random few of these and see if my nose has improved any lately. So I did, recording my impressions, and then went to Basenotes to see if I’d been right. For brevity here, let’s call Basenotes “Alex” and I will be “Contestant # 1,” a.k.a. “C1.”

Guerlain Chamade
C1: “Hmmm. Something woodsy, something sweet. Kind of dry. Classic, powerful. Smells kinda like a Guerlain. I want this.”
Alex: “The answer must be posed as a question! Ylang-ylang, blackcurrant bud! Woods and balsams!”
C1: “Uh, yeah. Right.”

Tauer Reverie du Jardin
C1: “Is it lavender, Alex? Sweet grass? Some kind of floral?"
Alex: (Impatient grimace) "and fir balm, galbanum, bergamot, orris, frankincense, rose absolute, ambrette seed, oakmoss, vanilla, cedar, amber and sandalwood!”
C1: “Oh!” (Slaps forehead in frustration) “How could I have missed those!”

Malle Angeliques Sous La Pluie
C1: “Ummm…herbal? Cedar? Is it cedar, Alex?” (Sniffs strip again) “Wait a second…it’s gone!” (Scratches head.) “I know! Is it a Jean-Claude Ellena?”
Alex: (presses buzzer) “Pink pepper. Juniper. Coriander. Yes…cedar. But I don’t see any…judges?” (Waits.) “No, no uhjohnclodelena. Not a note. Sorry.”

Tauer Lonestar Memories
C1: “Wow. Tar. Chilly air. Is that WD-40?”
Alex: “Not tar, Tauer. Sorry. Tobacco. Leather. Wood. But you were close!”

CDG Hinoki
C1: “Wait…don’t tell me. Hamster bedding! Is it that stuff you use to line a hamster cage?”
Alex: “No, dear. It’s perfume. Cedar and ginger…” (buzzer sounds)

DSH Special Formula X
C1: “Um…dirt?”
Alex: “Musk.”

Yves Rocher 8eJour
C1: “Wow. It smells kind of like Mitsouko, only sweeter. Maybe it’s me…though, is it Mitsouko, Alex? Chypre and, uh, what’s that stuff, persicol? A reformulation maybe?”
Alex: (riffling though papers) “Judges?” (Waits) (Waits) “Yes? We don’t have record of this substance? What is your ruling, then?” (Waits)

“Close enough? All right.” (Turns to contestant C1) “We’ll accept your judgment. And that means that YOU, C1, go home with fifty dollars and a lifetime supply of “Covet” by Sarah Jessica Parker!”

Of course there are more samples. Many more. And I know I’ll find that vial of Lutens Fleurs d’Oranger one day. Wait a second…maybe it’s under the bed?

See you next time!



*The word “grok” means, roughly, “to understand fully and completely.” It’s from Robert Heinlein’s Sci-Fi classic “Stranger in a Strange Land,” and is one of the few words from the Sixties, unlike “groovy” and “peaking,” that is still actually useful.