Monday, February 22, 2010

Guerlain: l'Heure Bleue

L’Heure Bleue and I have had a troubled history. The first time I tried it, it was unconditional love –or so I thought. It had the almond veil of Mitsouko, with something really interesting happening underneath. I bought a bottle of EdP, and not realising how strong it is compared to the EdT I had tested, I used so much I nearly suffocated myself. I smelled a really distorted version of the fragrance that was almost painful. After that it just wasn’t the same. I tried and tried, but I seemed to perceive it differently. It was like diesel and coaltar mixed with iris.

Then I tried an experiment. I thought if I put some on a blotter and kept it several feet away from me, I would catch the odd delicate whiff and we could get reacquainted. Well it worked. At first I smelled the old wooden medicine chest in the bathroom at home that hasn’t been used in years –which is not entirely different from what others describe. Then the magic happened. The fragrance opened up, with the notes gleaming like jewels, as the neroli in the centre as a dry and sumptuous counterpoint to the cool anise and iris. I was finally smelling the fragrance that had captivated me when I first tried it, so we’re in love.

I’m wearing it again today…


Saturday, February 13, 2010

Chanel: Pour Monsieur

Chanel Pour Monsieur is a fragrance that it would be easy to pass by, as it might seem like a rather generic mens cologne. However I think that would be a mistake. Pour Monsieur is very refined and elegant, and as such it doesn't announce its presence too loudly. There aren't any exotic notes, and it is very unlikely that you will notice anything you haven't already come across, however what does distinguish this fragrance is how beautifully it is composed.

The top notes of lemon and petitgrain are set against the bitter-sweet base of oakmoss and woods. A lightly spiced castoreum note appears in the middle-ground, which is a nod to the traditional masculine fragrance, but unlike many power-scents from the '70s and '80s, it just adds a touch of colour to the fragrance, which is otherwise a very pure chypre. The blending is and ingredients are exquisite, making this a good enough fragrance for any occasion, while still being understated and elegant enough for everyday wear. If I had a signature fragrance this could be it, as I can put it on and forget about it, yet still have little reminders throughout the day of how good it is. Unfortunately my wandering nose has not allowed me to stay faithful to any scent, but I will never be without Pour Monsieur. Incidentally, there is another scent that goes by the same name but Chanel call it an EdT Concentree. It is not the same scent.


Guerlain: Djedi


I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
.


OZYMANDIAS Percy Bysshe Shelley

There is something dark and strange about Djedi. It has an almost solemn quality, like something being burnt in a temple. It's smokey incense rises over a rich leathery base, which has all of the "thickness" associated with old Guerlains. However, the customary vanilla is nowhere to be found, but given the dry nature of the composition, the almost sweet facet of the civet is as close as this perfume gets to the vanillic quality of the Guerlinade. While the civet gives the perfume an animalic depth, it is far from a conventional raunchy base. Here it is like the spirit of some real living animal haunts the perfume.

The floral aspect of the fragrance adds a sensual touch, but never takes away from the uncompromising dry and dark nature of the composition -it merely expands it sensuality. The one note that dominates above all is vetiver, which emerges from the dark smouldering resin, while the sharpness of the grass is a green counterpoint to the dark and dense base. This dark and resinous quality, combined with the burning spices, is what gives Djedi it exotic nature. In spite of the powerfully evocative ingredients, there is nothing loud about this perfume. It has a sense of stillness about it, like a statue that is indifferent to whether we actually discover it or not.

A lot has been made of the similarity between Djedi and Vero Kern's Onda, and it is easy to see why. Both perfumes are dark, leathery, animalic, and dry vetivers, and both are also extraordinarily vivid, but for me Onda depicts a certain wild ferocity whereas Djedi has a quiet and eerie solemnity -like glimpsing some arcane ritual of a long lost civilisation. 

If I had a time machine I would dearly love to go back to Ancient Egypt, but on the way I think I'd have to make a stop in Paris in 1926 to meet the person who this fascinating perfume was made for.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Vero Kern: Onda

Onda is an unusual fragrance that juxtaposes the dry greenness of vetiver with a no-holds-barred animal and spice-laden base. I have never come across anything quite like it, although the base did remind me of the late dry down of Amouage Gold for men. Onda is startling at first, although this could in part be due to the absence of customary floral and citrus notes that deflect the nose away from the potentially disturbing character of naked animalic essences, which are most often used to lend weight and depth to a fragrance. Even leather, which is often a prominent note, is usually tempered to make it more palatable. In this case the more "difficult" notes are placed directly in the spotlight.

Over a soft sweet note of decay, there is a pungent brutal smell that packs the punch of raw civet, conjuring up images of some savage animal. With the untamed and stark smoky tar and leather, the notes are so vivid I can't help but imagine the crackle of burning wood and the roar of animals. However, this is not just a depiction of a fire in the Colosseum. There is a real sense of presence, like I am in the company of a living thing.

In the absence of anything resembling a floral heart, ginger blooms in its place, giving a glowing radiance, from which the vetiver emerges, and its greenness adds a sharp new dimension to the picture, although at times it seems like the base has become a natural extension of the vetiver note itself -a testament to the clever choice of materials and masterful blending. 

A fragrance is of course much more than a collection of notes, and the most important thing is the overall effect, and while it might seem that Onda is an attempt to recreate the last days of Sodom and Gomorrah -and it certainly has a decadent side- the fragrance has a soft, dark, and luxurious radiance. In a sense I also consider it like the missing link to an evolutionary branch of perfumery that lost out to the abstract perfumes of the Twentieth Century. It's as if Vero Kern went back to literal depictions of nature, but brought perfumery through the Brutalist era instead of Impressionism. She has not shied away from revelling in subject matter that some might find a little "difficult", but finds beauty in areas where most people wouldn't look. 

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Chanel: Cuir de Russie





Cuir de Russie is one of the finest perfumes by one of the World's greatest perfume houses, but it is not known to the general public in the way many of its siblings are. In the perfume loving fraternity however, it is revered.

Leather fragrances by their very nature have a heaviness to them, and can be something of an acquired taste. The leather note itself is very deep and forceful, and perfumers have interpreted it in various ways. Raw isobutyl quinoline, from which the leather note is derived, can have a harsh smoky quality which perfumers often feel the need to tame. In this case however, the note isn't dumbed down. Instead, its harsher aspects are counter-balanced by typical Chanel aldehydes, soft florals, and a particularly fine iris. The musky base rounds out the leather note, combining with it to lend great depth and smooth luxury to the composition.

The most remarkable thing about Cuir de Russie is that it manages to give a particularly difficult note such a prominent role without compromising its lineage -it could never be mistaken as the work of any other perfume house. The signature interplay of aldehydes and florals is unmistakable, yet the leather slips so effortlessly into its Chanel suit that one could easily imagine a world where Cuir de Russie was the fragrance that defined the brand. 

Guerlain: Jicky




Jicky is often regarded as the first modern fragrance. It was created in 1889 by the venerable house of Guerlain, and represents a break from tradition, as it features the heavy use of synthetic aromachemicals. Most perfumers at the time sought to capture and enhance perfume notes from nature such as rose or jasmine, but synthetics allowed perfumers to start looking for other sources of inspiration. Trends in artistic thought in general were moving away from literal depictions of nature, and it was perhaps inevitable that the perfumer would try to create more daring interpretations of revered natural aromas, and eventually a higher degree of abstraction where the work itself took centre stage. With the availability of new aromachmicals perfumers pursued more individiualistic compositions, and even when individual notes were allowed to shine, they could be boldly recast.

Jicky represents the start of the new era, and while it was not the first perfume to feature synthetic ingredients, it is the most important one from its era to do so. What sets Jicky apart is not the notes in themselves, but the way they combine into a complex whole. The choice of a hesperidic and lavender opening might not seem particularly interesting in itself, but clearly Jacques Guerlain doesn't intend to create yet another lavender water. Instead, he sets these notes in a rich vanillic base that features a prominent civet note that even today shocks some noses. It comes across as bold and daring, but when it settles, something new emerges at the meeting point between lavender, vanilla and civet. A new opulent complex of notes emerges that is spicy, rich, and sweet, but in which the identities of the individual components surrender to the complex whole. It is the abstract core of Jicky, and it remains as the complex fragrance unfolds throughout many stages of development.

Later fragrances would draw heavily on this initial experiment, especially Mouchoir de Monsieur, and eventually Shalimar -the flagship fragrance of the house. Even fragrances not obviously derived from Jicky have been heavily influenced by it, as it defined the way Guerlain used vanilla in its signature accord -the Guerlinade.

Guerlain: Mouchoir de Monsieur






Mouchoir de Moniseur was created in 1904, and is usually considered to be the first modern mens fragrance. It is not completely unlike Jicky, which Guerlain created in 1889, with it's lavender, vanilla and civet chord, but the character is rather different, with Mouchoir at first appearing like a very refined eau de cologne.  The lavender seems to be less naked than it is in Jicky, and is also balanced by the sweetness of patchouli, becoming reminiscent of old-fashioned bath salts. Shortly after the opening, the balance of the sweetened lavender, vanilla and the deep animalic civet is sublime, as each note retains its character, yet combines to form a scent that is rich and opulent.

One of the big differences from Jicky is the prominent use of iris. It is not a loud iris, but it is distinctive, and is reminiscent that used in Vol de Nuit. All of this is underpinned by a herbal mossy base, while the musks and civet make sure that the vivid animalic quality dominates every stage of the perfume's development. While many fragrances use their animal component in an almost provocative way, Mouchoir de Monsieur brings out the almost disarming elegance of its ingredients, so the term "animalic" here is has more in common with the elegance of a fine thoroughbred than anything raunchy.

The quality of ingredients in the fragrance is superb, and it's a pleasure to zoom in on any of the individual notes. It's a little like looking at a photo in a magazine up so close you can see all of the dots, and when you pull back, you see a picture. With this perfume the dots are so beautiful it wouldn't really matter if there was no bigger picture -but there is, and it's a masterpiece!