Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, August 11, and we’re having one thunderstorm after another. Part of the day will be sunny, hot, and humid, and part will include torrential downpours, lightning, and thunder. Our dog Lucy isn’t happy about it, but we think the calming measures we’ve provided are helping her. We have a pheromone-based diffuser near her crate, and I give her “calming oil” in her food when we expect thunder. My SOTD for summer thunderstorm weather is Hermès’ Un Jardin Après La Mousson, a longtime favorite. It’s very refreshing!
Un Jardin Après La Mousson by Hermes; image from Hermes
I’m getting lots of work done around the house and garden, with my newly free time; we just got several vintage bathroom fixtures reglazed, and they look spectacular! Two bathtubs and two sinks, original to our 1906 house. So (fingers crossed), I think we’re finally done with bathroom renovations, which started with a plumbing disaster in the fall of 2020 at the height of COVID lockdown. I was motivated to get the fixtures reglazed this summer because some longtime, cherished friends are coming to visit in two weeks. Now everything will work AND look nice!
Our youngest moved back to campus this week for his last year of college. We miss him already! We’re very spoiled because he goes to college about a 15-minute drive away, and has lived at home every summer since he started college. In former workplace news, more senior staff have announced this week that they are leaving. I’m quite relieved to be gone myself, as those kinds of departures always impose more work on the staff who remain. My other news is that a ten-minute play I wrote will get a staged reading tomorrow at a local theater! I’m very excited. I’ve had a couple of staged readings before, but I hope to commit more time and attention to playwriting now.
In honor of theater, I think my SOTD for tomorrow will be Cabaret, by Parfums Grès. It isn’t nearly as well known as its sibling and predecessor Cabochard, but I like it very much, and I seem to be on a Grès kick lately because of the recent exhibit of Madame Grès’ beautiful couture designs I saw, and the “CounterPoint” post Portia and I did recently about Cabochard.
Do you have any fragrances that you associate with the theater? Or thunderstorms?
Welcome to another monthly installment of “Notes on Notes”, a collaboration between me and Portia Turbo of Australian Perfume Junkies! This month, we focus on tropical fruits. For me in the Northern Hemisphere, this seems very appropriate given the sweltering summer heat and humidity we’ve been enduring lately, complete with afternoon torrential downpours.
“Tropical fruits” covers a lot of territory — everything from bananas to pineapples, both of which are easily available in American supermarkets. We almost always have bananas on hand, and as it happens, I have fresh pineapple in the house right now because we had our three young adult children here for brunch, and I usually buy a readymade fruit salad to serve with brunch, which often contains pineapple. The fruit is much sweeter and fresher than any fragrance I’ve tried manages to convey. Fresh-squeezed pineapple juice is a treat I enjoyed on our one trip to the Bahamas many years ago. Come to think of it, we rarely travel to tropical locales, even Florida which is a nearby state; South Florida is considered “tropical.”
Did you know that coconuts are technically fruits, in a category called “drupes”? And they’re certainly tropical. Unlike pineapples and bananas, I rarely eat coconut. I don’t dislike it, I just don’t come across it very often, other than as an ingredient in baked goods or candy. In fragrance, the scent of coconut immediately reminds me of suntan lotion.
My impression is that the widely varying scents of tropical fruits are most often used in perfumery to convey “sunshine”, “summer” or “beach”, although Zoologist’s famous Bat used a banana accord and notes of other soft tropical fruits to refer to fruit bats in the tropics. (Bat was discontinued by Zoologist, but the perfumer who created it, Ellen Covey, now sells it online through her business Olympic Orchids Artisan Perfumes, under the name Night Flyer). Jean-Claude Ellena famously built his first fragrance as Hermès’ in-house perfumer, Un Jardin Sur le Nil, around an accord of green mango, as recounted in Chandler Burr’s book “The Perfect Scent”, not to evoke the tropics or a beach, but instead, a garden island in the Nile River.
The Perfect Scent; image from macmillan.com.
A classic example of how tropical fruits may be used in fragrance is CK One, often presented as a summer scent — so much so, that the brand frequently issues a summer flanker of CK One. It includes pineapple and papaya among its top notes, with citrus fruits such as lemon, bergamot, and mandarin orange.
CK One; image from highstreetpakistan.com
The full list of notes, per Fragrantica, is: top notes of Lemon, Green Notes, Bergamot, Mandarin Orange, Pineapple, Cardamom and Papaya; middle notes of Lily-of-the-Valley, Jasmine, Violet, Nutmeg, Rose, Orris Root and Freesia; base notes of Green Accord, Musk, Cedar, Sandalwood, Oakmoss, Green Tea and Amber. Created by Alberto Morillas and Harry Fremont, launched in 1994, M. Morillas has said it may be his favorite of the hundreds of fragrances he has created, in a 2022 interview with Fragrantica’s Patric Rhys:
“I created this perfume for the States, but it’s a very European style, my style – the Spanish style. It’s very fresh, easy to wear, but it can be appropriated. It smells different on each skin, when a man wears it, when a woman wears it… And for me, it’s still very modern, and doesn’t smell old fashioned, but of the actual time.”
I would agree — CK One is still modern, fresh, and unisex. I don’t find the pineapple to be a main player in the opening, though — the citrus fruits dominate. However, I think the pineapple accord contributes to the sweetness they convey in CK One in addition to the usual citrusy brightness. CK One moves through its opening stage quite rapidly; the heart notes are mostly floral, at least on my skin. To my nose, the combination of base notes just adds up to “green and woody” and I can’t say that I really detect separate notes. All in all, CK One doesn’t last very long, but the journey is very pleasant and does bring to mind a sunny vacation.
M. Morillas likes it so much that when he was asked to name the three fragrances he would want to keep personally, of all his creations, if he could only have those three, he named CK One first, saying that it captures his “sunny personality.”
In a 2017 interview with blogger Richard Goller at Fragroom.com, M. Morillas explained how he has used tropical fruits in creating summer flankers of L’Eau d’Issey, which was originally created by his friend Jacques Cavallier:
“Both the masculine and the feminine Eau d’Issey personalities remain so distinctive I can play with new modern freshness by inviting novel ingredients into the composition, while staying true to their unique signatures. Pineapple and kiwi bring the new exotic twist to the masculine scent. Summer is also played by exotic fruits for the feminine version. I introduced a new invigorating brightness throughout the colourful cocktail of dragon fruit, mango and guava.”
Another fragrance with a detectable pineapple note is Birmane, by Van Cleef & Arpels. Unlike CK One or many other scents using tropical fruits, it is not meant to be a summery or beachy fragrance. Now discontinued, I’ve read that it was designed as a “light oriental”. It is lovely! “Birmane” means Burmese, i.e. from the country now known as Myanmar and formerly known as Burma. Myanmar does in fact have a tropical climate and sits in the monsoon region of Asia; it is a top producer of tropical fruits. I suspect this is why Birmane was created as a “light” oriental fragrance, with no spice notes (more characteristic of scents meant to evoke the Middle East). Top notes include bergamot, pineapple, rosewood and lemon. The heart has notes of rose, orchid, iris, and heliotrope. The base notes include vanilla, tonka, sandalwood, and musk. Orchids, of course, are tropical flowers, and vanilla also comes from an orchid that grows in tropical environments.
Pineapple growing in Myanmar
Birmane was launched in 1999, which is interesting as it smells to me more like a classic fragrance of an earlier era. Not musty at all, no aldehydes, but it is rich and multi-layered in a way that was starting to go out of style among designer fragrances in the 1990s. As it dries down, the fruits give way to the flowers which then give way to sandalwood with a touch of vanilla and warm musk. It’s a very soft, appealing fragrance when judiciously applied. I can see that it might be a bit overwhelming if heavily sprayed.
There are other, more famous fragrances that incorporate a pineapple accord: Creed’s Aventus is one, and Jean Patou’s Colony is another. I don’t own Aventus; I do have a bottle of Colony, from the Collection Heritage that perfumer Thomas Fontaine created to bring back some of the house’s legendary fragrances, but I haven’t discussed it here because it has been tucked away with some of my collection while we have some repairs done.
Do you have or love any pineapple fragrances? Or scents with any other tropical fruit(s)? And please jump over to Australian Perfume Junkies to get Portia’s “Notes on Notes”!
Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, August 4, and now we’re getting lots of rain that doesn’t relieve the humidity. I continue to harvest eggplants and adapt my new favorite recipe for eggplant parmesan: Delish’s Skillet Eggplant Parmesan. Last night, I used the same tomato sauce that includes truffle, porcini, and cream, but topped the whole thing with goat cheese instead of mozzarella (which was still in the inner layers). The crowd went wild! I think that version’s a real keeper.
I have more time to cook and garden now, because this past Monday was my last day in my workplace! I’m finishing up a couple of projects and will help transition my successor later this month, but I’m basically retired now. There was a nice gathering for me with colleagues on Monday afternoon, and people said nice things. TBH, I’m not sad to close that chapter. As much as I’ve enjoyed many aspects of my work over almost two decades, it just kept getting more and more stressful, and that was affecting my health more and more. Farewell to all that!
I’ve discovered Trader Joe’s bouquets of “garden roses”, which have a lovely, old-fashioned form like the English Roses I love, but no fragrance! Such a shame, as they’re very pretty and so far have lasted well in a vase.
Luckily, the roses I grow in my own garden are very fragrant, and I’m taking better care of them now, which rewards me with more blooms and fragrance. I have quite a few other flowers blooming, but many of them, like coneflowers, have little or no scent. I love them because they support pollinators and birds, and they now come in all kinds of wonderful colors.
Do you have a favorite scented flower that is NOT a rose?
Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, July 28, and it’s still hot! I am consoled by the fact that my garden is now providing generous amounts of tomatoes and eggplants, as well as a second flush of rose blossoms. Also, I’ve found a new favorite recipe for eggplant parmesan: Delish’s Skillet Eggplant Parmesan. Honestly, it’s way better than normal eggplant parmesan because it’s not as bready. Normally I don’t think my husband and son would touch eggplant with the proverbial ten-foot pole, but they devour this. My second attempt was even better than my first, because I used a tomato sauce that includes truffle, porcini, and cream. Heaven!
As for the tomatoes, we are now happily in tomato sandwich season and I plan to eat that for lunch every day. Even if my own plants don’t deliver daily, our local farmer’s market sells plenty! The New York Times recently ran an article on tomato sandwiches that set off a furor in the comments, because its headline implied that tomato sandwiches are particular to the South: The Sandwich Southerners Wait for All Year. Folks from New Jersey, which is justly famous for its excellent tomatoes, were particularly incensed.
Given the current bounty of my garden, I thought it would be fun to identify fragrances with notes of both tomato or tomato leaf, and rose. And of course, what popped up but a longtime favorite: Gardener’s Glove, by St. Clair Scents! Also La Feuille, by Miller Harris. Another fave of mine, Un Jardin Sur le Nil, famously combines a tomato note with florals and other notes, but not rose.
Do you have any favorite scents with tomato or tomato leaf notes? Or a favorite tomato sandwich recipe?
Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, July 21, and it is HOT! We did get some rain last night for the first time in several days, which will help my garden survive the next heat wave. I’ve been watering daily like a fanatic, but so far, everything is doing well, including the tomatoes that I swear every year I won’t plant again, and then I do.
Update on the Lucy saga: we seem to have conquered the pee smell, yay! And she hasn’t repeated her accidents, so we think some of the calming resources we’re using for her during thundery weather may be helping. Who’s a good girl?
If you haven’t yet read Portia’s and my latest “Counterpoint“, check it out! We’re having a lot of fun with these monthly collaborations (the other being “Notes on Notes“).
Are you sweltering in hot weather? How do you cool off? I am mostly staying inside, also due to poor air quality from the Canadian forest fires (!), venturing outside in the morning to do garden tasks, then retreating inside either at my office or house. I’ll go outside again around 6, when things start to cool down a bit, mostly to check on plants.
Cabochard may be the best known fragrance issued by the house of Grès, at least to this generation of perfumistas. It is not the only one, but it was the first and it is one of only a few that came out while the real Madame Grès still owned the perfume line, which she sold in 1982. (Others I own are Cabaret and Cabotine). It was created in 1959 by legendary perfumer Bernard Chant, who also created strong fragrances like Aromatics Elixir,Azurée, Aramis, and the original Halston, now called Halston Classic. It is a classic leather chypre, originally with a full symphony of notes and accords, which Fragrantica lists as: aldehydes, sage, spices, tarragon, asafoetida, lemon and fruity notes; middle notes of geranium, orris root, rose, jasmine and ylang-ylang; base notes of leather, oakmoss, tobacco, vetiver, patchouli, sandalwood, musk, amber, and coconut.
Madame Grès was a legendary designer of haute couture, based mostly in Paris and dressing its elite from the 1930s into the 1980s. Her creations are truly unique – you look at one of her garments and you know it’s by her. They are in many collections, including the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which describes her work thus:
“Madame Alix Grès’ career spanned five decades and throughout them all she excelled in her ability to manipulate fabric and use its innate characteristics to enhance her designs. She executed flowing body-skimming forms inspired by ancient Greek dress; minimalist, sculptural forms and voluminous, dramatic shapes.”
I chose Cabochard as this month’s “Counterpoint” fragrance to write about with Portia (of the blog Australian Perfume Junkies) because I saw a rare exhibit of Madame Grès dresses and other outfits a few weeks ago. Most of the items displayed were from the private collection of the late Azzedine Alaïa, another genius of garment construction who studied Madame Grès and her techniques. This post will be liberally sprinkled with photos I took! There were so many gorgeous dresses that it was hard to choose.
Cabochard and Madame Gres
Apparently the fragrance took inspiration from a trip to India that Madame Grès took in the late 1950s to look into the reorganization of traditional Indian textile manufacture, a project of the Ford Foundation and others. It was named Cabochard because of her well-known stubbornness and determination, on full display during the Nazi occupation of Paris in the 1940s, when she refused to serve German clients (who were mostly wives of Nazi officers). Another example is that when she was ordered to stop using so much fabric, at first she defied the order, and they shut down her atelier, then she complied but her next collection was all in the colors of the French flag: red, white, and blue.
How did you first encounter Cabochard and what was your first impression?
Portia: I cannot remember the first time I smelled Cabochard. Maybe it was on an Aunt or one of Mum’s friends, or one of my friend’s Mums. It could have been a sniff session in a department store in the time that I loved perfume but wasn’t internet connected to you all or maybe I read about it in the initial stages of discovering the scent blogosphere. I do remember that I bought a tall slender bottle with a black lid, maybe even from overseas way back in the time of postal ability. That bottle was given to a friend when they fell madly in love. Then I scored an extrait that had my mind whirling (still does, though it’s a second bottle now) and lastly, when the bottle was redesigned and the fragrance given a spruce for modern day I grabbed a tester for next to nothing. Perfumer Bernard Chant created Cabochard in 1959, Aramis in 1966 and Aromatics Elixir in 1971. A trilogy or family of fragrance, all similar but riffing different elements.
Dresses by Madame Gres
Old Herbaceous: I got a heavily discounted bottle of Cabochard eau de toilette after reading Luca Turin’s hilarious but scathing review in “Perfumes: The A-Z Guide”, in which he famously called this reformulation “Cabochard chewed down to a frazzle by accountant moths” and compared it to a time-ravaged Peter O’Toole whom no one recognized any more. I had previously bought another Grès fragrance, Cabaret (which came out long after she had died), and liked it very much, so I thought I would see what Cabochard was like and whether it deserved such criticism. Of course, I don’t have the original vintage for a comparison, but I was curious anyway. And I also found the name charming: stubborn, like a donkey, but also resolute and determined.
Cabochard has been reformulated (as have so many classics), and for a long time, what was available was the version I first bought, in a tall, slender bottle with a bas-relief bow on front. However, in 2019, the current owners of the brand reissued Cabochard in eau de toilette and eau de parfum, in shorter bottles with real black ribbons on the neck. These improve on their immediate predecessor and have been well-received, so I own both!
My initial impression was that Cabochard reminded me of Chanel No. 19, which startled me until I re-read the list of notes and saw that the 2019 eau de parfum has a strong dose of galbanum as one of its top notes. I like the opening very much, no surprise! When I asked my 21 year-old son to tell me what he thought, he sniffed my wrist and said “I can’t say I LIKE it, but I wouldn’t say I dislike it either. It’s really different!” How is that for a diplomatic answer?
How would you describe the development of Cabochard?
Old Herbaceous: I’m wearing the 2019 eau de parfum, which has a different list of notes from the original, according to Fragrantica: top notes of aldehydes, galbanum, and sage; heart notes of ylang-ylang, rose, and jasmine; base notes of oakmoss, leather, patchouli, and sandalwood. Right away, the aldehydes and galbanum hit the nose; the aldehydes drift away, but the galbanum remains a leading player. I barely smell any of the floral notes at all, then the base notes arrive — and wow, do they persist! Very true to the fragrance’s name, lol. Of those, the one I smell the least is sandalwood, which is a shame as that is clearly a reference to India. The oakmoss note is potent, and in 2019, it might still have had some real oakmoss atranol, though it was heavily restricted by then, and atranol was banned entirely in Europe in 2021. I’m guessing that by 2019, Parfums Grès was already using a modern substitute, both for cost reasons and because the ban was on the horizon.
The 2019 eau de toilette also has its own slightly different list of notes, which Fragrantica lists as: top notes of aldehydes, bergamot, and sage; heart notes of ylang-ylang, rose, and jasmine; base notes of oakmoss, leather, patchouli, and sandalwood. This is actually a more classic chypre structure, with bergamot among its top notes which the eau de parfum lacks.
Neil Chapman, author of The Black Narcissus blog, wrote about Cabochard in his marvelous book “Perfume: In Search of Your Signature Scent”, and described it as “a dark and brooding scent of greys, purples, and blacks that hovers, tantalizingly, above the skin” (I think he was describing the vintage extrait). To my nose, because of the galbanum and base notes, the eau de parfum is indeed “dark and brooding” but varying shades of dark green and brown.
Portia: Wearing vintage extrait and modern EdT. The opening fruity sparkle is herbaceous, aromatic and dense. Imagine being in the storeroom of an Indian bazaar, the spark and buzz of faulty electrics, fruit and veg in waxy cardboard boxes, sizzling spices, bitter herbs, and the scent of dozens of boxes of sandalwood soap. Cabochard is as full on as you can imagine. A heavy, hectic, psychedelic scent that manages to be all this and warmly classy too. That is quite a feat to keep something so big from flying out of control. It’s definitely a hark back to perfume of yesteryear but much of today’s product could learn a thing or ten from one sniff of Cabochard.
Cabochard eau de toilette (2019) and parfum; image by Portia Turbo.
Through the heart flowers are a bouquet and I can’t pick any of them out, not really pick them out, though I get flashes of ideas of flowers. It doesn’t matter anyway because already the base notes are coming through: sandalwood, tobacco, patchouli, leather and oakmoss are the ones I can detect but what I really smell is Cabochard. It’s the base of Cabochard that IS Cabochard to me. That long trail of golden darkness that floats mysteriously around me for hours and hours.
Do you or will you wear Cabochard regularly? For what occasions or seasons?
Portia: It’s funny. I just put my Cabochard EdT in its box to give it a rest. I keep the extrait out for sneaky swipes. Cabochard is an excellent foil against the downward spiral of depression. Something so thick, rich, tapestried and enigmatic can derail the slide brilliantly if I catch it early enough. So yes, Cabochard gets wear.
It’s also a perfect glamour scent for nights working a drag. Cabochard’s fine line between masculine and feminine in scent is a perfect match.
Old Herbaceous: I don’t wear it often, and when I do, I realize that I really have to be in the mood for Cabochard. To me, it is a fragrance best suited to fall and winter, when it appeals to me most; to my nose, it’s a bit much in the hot, humid weather we get here in the summer.
Who should/could wear Cabochard?
Old Herbaceous: I find Cabochard totally unisex – wearable by men or women without startling anyone with traditional expectations. Not surprising, given that its original creator Bernard Chant also came up with Aramis, a legendary masculine fragrance that is still a top seller, and strong feminine fragrances like Aromatics Elixir and Azurée (also Beautiful, more floral than many of his other creations).
Portia: Cabochard is truly unisex. Anyone with the chutzpah to wear such an iconic fragrance should definitely get some on. It’s a big perfume but a single spritz could even be low key enough for the workplace. Should you need armour, to make an entrance, to become an object of power then a couple of sprays more. 10 sprays should gas those nearby, dry clean your curtains and make people give you a wide berth. I’m wearing 10 sprays right now, home alone and in my perfume room/office. Bloody heaven!
Did I mention that Cabochard can be had for very little money on the discount sites? So, affordable glamour. YAY!
Have you tried Cabochard, vintage or modern? Which version, and what do you think?
Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, July 14, and it is Bastille Day! Vive la France!
Do you plan to wear a French fragrance today? I’ve already announced, on Now Smell This, my goal of wearing a succession of French SOTDs from the houses of Caron, Chanel, Guerlain, and Jean Patou, with possible detours toward Parfums de Nicolai and Atelier des Ors. Candidates include: Infini, No. 22 or 19, Parure, and L’Heure Attendue. Wish me luck!
Please drop by on Monday for the monthly “Counterpoint” blog post that Portia Turbo and I have been doing. We’ve got a great one for you, and it’s French! Full disclosure: it may go up in the afternoon, since I’ll be at my office on campus most of the day.
My countdown toward retirement at the end of July continues — it is both exhilarating and a bit weird. My kids are planning a retirement party for me with family and friends at the end of August, and it’s such fun to find out weekly who will attend, including some dear friends from far away. My workplace will have a retirement reception for me on July 31, my last day on campus. I’m glad to get that chance to say goodbye in person to many colleagues, both at my school and from other campus offices. Since I’m not moving anywhere, I will still be able to have occasional lunch or coffee with some who are particularly close work friends. What a novelty — in almost 19 years in this job, I have rarely even left my desk for lunch (I know, bad habit).
Do you have any special favorites among French fragrances or fragrance houses? Do tell!
Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is Friday, July 7, and I made sure to post on time today! What’s on my mind this week is fragrance of a different sort — our 11 year-old dog Lucy had not one, but two accidents in the house this week. We think it’s because of several recent thunderstorms, which made her reluctant to go outside. Usually she’s very good about sitting at the back door to ask to go out, but she’s scared of thunder and 1) didn’t want to go out; and 2) couldn’t hold it in. (That’s my theory, anyway. If it happens again soon, without thunder, we’ll take her to the vet). So here’s the fragrance issue: once a dog has peed somewhere, the odor will lead them to pee there again. Given that Lucy peed on our most expensive rug and on our son’s bed (!), it was imperative to get all traces of the pee out, even after cleaning enough that we couldn’t see or smell it any more. Dogs can.
Enzymes to the rescue! There are many rug cleaning products that use enzymes to break down urine molecules that are undetectable to us, but not to dogs. I used those thoroughly on everything I couldn’t launder, and they worked! How do I know? I bought a small flashlight-type device that emits black light, which shows dried pee stains as glowing spots in a dark room. No more glow spots on the rug or bedding! And now we come to the more pleasant fragrance issue: we’ve succeeded in the past helping Lucy through thunderstorms by putting a snug doggie sweater on her, but since dogs can sense thunder long before we can, we haven’t always been able to do that in time. So I’ve bought a diffuser that emits a vet-recommended synthetic pheromone; it mimics the scent of a mother dog and is supposed to calm adult dogs as well as puppies. To humans, it is odorless. We’ve just put it by her crate and I hope it helps. I hope it also helps retrain her to stay in her crate overnight without fussing — she had been doing that for years until 2020, when our kids all moved home and started letting her sleep on their beds.
Speaking of pheromones, I remember loving Marilyn Miglin’s fragrance of that name in the 1980s, and wearing it often. It was a green floral chypre (turns out I am very consistent over time in the kinds of fragrance I like). Apparently the current version isn’t nearly as good, not surprising given that the original was loaded with oakmoss at 1978 levels.
Do you have any thoughts on pheromones generally, or on that fragrance? Any words of wisdom for us in helping Lucy?
Ah, roses. As you may imagine (and regulars here know), with a pen name like Old Herbaceous, it is likely that I love roses. And I do – especially the highly fragrant English Roses hybridized by the late David Austin. As of last count, I am growing 14 of them, mostly in large pots. I’ve even visited the amazing display by David Austin Roses at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show! One rewarding aspect of seeing many varieties together in real life is that one can appreciate the different scents they emanate, as well as their different shapes and colors. Below are some photos from my terrace:
The fragrance of roses is actually a very complex ballet of many different molecules. As the American Rose Society notes, different varieties can smell quite different from each other, though recognizably and undeniably “rose”. According to ARS and the website Flower Power, “Rose scents fall into seven distinct categories. They are: rose (or damask), nasturtium, orris (which is similar to violets), violets, apple, clove and lemon (the fruit, not the blossoms). There are also twenty-six other less common aromas that can be discerned. Among them are: honeysuckle, moss, hyacinth, honey, wine, marigold, peppers, parsley, and even fruity raspberry.” These different nuances present an irresistible opportunity to perfumers: they can create endless variations by emphasizing one facet or another of a rose accord’s complicated structure. The Perfume Society says that rose is a note in at least 75% of traditionally feminine fragrances and at least 10% of traditionally masculine fragrances. While many perfumistas dislike rose notes in perfume, it may be that they haven’t found the right rose yet, since there are so many, varying widely from the classic rose-scented soap your older relatives may have used. In fact, one of my favorite perfume houses focuses almost entirely on rose-centered fragrances: Les Parfums de Rosine, founded by the late Marie-Helène Rogeon.
Clair Matin, Les Parfums de Rosine
I’ve written about many of the rose fragrances I own in past years’ “Roses de Mai Marathon”, but this month I have some new ones with which to illustrate “rose” as a note in fragrance. The newest in my collection is The Coveted Duchess Rose, from Penhaligon’s “Portraits” collection and created by perfumer Christophe Raynaud. It is an eau de parfum that Fragrantica classifies as an “amber floral”. I think that’s a misnomer; the “amber” quality is due to a vanilla accord which, oddly, isn’t listed as a note on Fragrantica but is listed on the brand’s website. Other notes are Rosa centifolia (one of the varieties most used in perfume), mandarin orange, musk, and “woody notes.” The mandarin orange note opens the fragrance, which quickly pivots to a beautiful, fresh, classic rose accord. As it dries down, Duchess Rose gets warmer and muskier in a soft progression toward its base notes. The rose accord is evident throughout, but the vanilla becomes an equal partner in its dance after a couple of hours. One of the things I like about this fragrance is that it starts out very dewy and fresh, because of the mandarin orange, then slowly warms up, with the floral aspect strongest in its heart phase. It reminds me of a sunny English summer day, dawning cool and fresh, the light becoming stronger as the sun rises, then warming into late afternoon.
Probably the most unusual new rose fragrance in my collection is Miguel Matos’ Miracle of Roses, which comes as an extrait. I was able to try it and buy it this spring in Barcelona, at The Perfumery (if you get a chance, do go visit this wonderful shop with its many niche and artisanal perfumes!). It is named for a legend about St. Elizabeth of Portugal, a medieval queen. M. Matos tells the story:
“Elizabeth was born in Zaragoza, Spain in 1271, she was the daughter of Peter III of Aragon and was married off to King Denis of Portugal in 1282. Throughout her life, Elizabeth demonstrated a great compassion to the poor and legend says she would leave the palace in disguise, in order to take food for the less fortunate.
The Miracle of Roses happens one day when the king discovered that Elizabeth was leaving the palace to take food to the poor. This is something that the queen had been forbidden to do. The king had threatened to lock her up and she was to never leave the palace again if the disobeyed. Despite this, the Queen never stopped feeding the poor and every day she would leave the palace and help her people.
One winter day, Elizabeth left the palace carrying pieces of bread hidden in her dress. As the King saw her going out, he asked, “What you are carrying?” She answered, “Roses, my lord.” As it was winter and roses were nowhere to be found at the time and in that cold weather, he demanded her to show him what she was carrying. When the queen unfolded her dress, roes fell on the floor.
The transformation of bread into roses is a miracle attributed to St Elizabeth of Portugal, a woman that set an example for devotion to God and kindness to her people. After the death of her husband in 1325, she entered the Santa Clara a Velha Monastery in Coimbra where she lived until 1336, when she passed. Pope Urban VIII canonized her in 1625.”
Miracle of Roses opens with a combination of cinnamon, bread, and milk. Yes, it really does smell of bread and milk, both of which are associated with kindness and charity. The next stage is where the rose makes its first appearance, accompanied by heliotrope, immortelle, and iris. The rose is not dominant, it is equaled here by the other flowers. The base notes are frequent “collaborators” with rose accords in fragrance: sandalwood, honey, incense, and woody notes. Miracle of Roses is a beautiful, slightly eccentric fragrance that is unlike any others I own. In fact, in future wearings I may add a drop on my wrist of the gorgeous attar of Taif roses that my husband bought for me in Dubai, to amp up the rose accord (don’t tell Miguel).
Speaking of Taif roses, the third rose fragrance I’ll use to discuss the note is Perris Monte Carlo’s Rose de Taif, an eau de parfum created by perfumer Luca Maffei; it is also available as an extrait. It is an aromatic, spicy rose, with herbal nuances. Fragrantica lists its notes as: geranium, lemon and nutmeg; middle note, Taif rose; base notes, damask rose and musk. Geranium and lemon are also common companions for roses in fragrance; they share some of the same molecules like geraniol. Not surprisingly, Rose de Taif smells a bit like a scented geranium, and less fruity than some rose-based fragrances. It is a far cry from the rose soaps that turned many people against rose in fragrance! It is clearly still a rose-centric fragrance, but it has a modern flair. As proof of that, my son’s very chic college girlfriend was at our house recently when I was wearing Rose de Taif for this blog post. She immediately sniffed the air and asked what smelled so great. I feel seen! Or smelled. The modern, spicy nuances of Rose de Taif also make it an ideal unisex fragrance, especially for men who may tend to avoid sweeter, more flowery rose scents. There are many great rose fragrances targeted to men these days, but I don’t see any reason why any man couldn’t wear whatever rose fragrance appeals to him, no matter who is the target customer.
Finally, Attar de Roses by Keiko Mecheri. My bottle has gone off a bit, so I get a sort of fermented rose smell when I first spray it, but that evaporates in seconds and becomes a lovely, warm, woody rose. It has been discontinued, so the brand’s website no longer lists it. According to Fragrantica, its notes include: Taif, Shiraz and Ancienne roses, jasmine, warm, woody notes, amber and leather. Jasmine is another classic rose companion in fragrance, famously paired with rose accords in perfumes like Chanel No. 5 and the late, great Joy by Jean Patou. Here, I barely detect it; the woody notes, which smell to me like sandalwood, are more evident to my nose. Although Attar de Roses is labeled as eau de parfum, I think it must have a high concentration of fragrance oil, because I can see it as a moist patch on the back of my hand where I sprayed it, long after that first spray. It stays rose-focused throughout its development in an almost linear fashion, which I appreciate when I’m in the mood.
Bringing us back to the garden aspects of rose fragrances, I actually found a scented geranium this year called – “Attar of Roses.” By golly, when you rub its leaves, it really does smell like a rose! Most scented geraniums smell like citronella or lemongrass to my nose. I like them, but I did a double-take when I smelled this one. So of course I bought it on the spot, and it is sitting in its own, smaller pot on the terrace where I grow my English Roses. I rarely bring tender plants inside to nurture over the winter and try to bring back in the spring, but I may have to make an exception for this one.
Rose fragrances tend to elicit strong feelings, as far as I can tell. Do you love or loathe rose fragrances, or do you have mixed reactions? Please add your thoughts in the comments – just remember that a fragrance you dislike may be another reader’s long-time favorite, so as always, please try not to give or take offense! Also, go see what Portia has to say, over at Australian Perfume Junkies. And Happy Fourth of July to my fellow Americans!
Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.
Today is NOT Friday, June 30, when I should have posted. I got distracted by an unexpectedly long eye doctor’s appointment that morning, and then some unexpected work tasks in the afternoon, and I forgot to post! We’re living through a massive heatwave here in the Southeast, so I’ve also been very busy watering my many plants, garden beds, and vegetable garden. Plants that need special attention are my David Austin roses, most of which I grow in large pots because I don’t have great locations for roses elsewhere in my garden, and because our front terrace gets the most sun plus air circulation. They flourish in the pots but they have to be watered daily during hot weather. Totally worth it, as they are so lovely and smell wonderful!
Speaking of roses, Portia Turbo and I will be posting again tomorrow in our regular collaboration “Notes on Notes”, and the note we’ve chosen is — rose. Whether you like or loathe rose fragrances, please drop by and comment (nicely) here and on Australian Perfume Junkies once we’ve posted!
PSA: Penhaligon’s USA is having its summer sale; several really nice ones are on sale, including one of my favorites, Juniper Sling, and I snagged a discovery set of eight of the “Portraits” fragrances. At least one will probably make an appearance in tomorrow’s “Notes on Notes.”
Yesterday I went to a fashion exhibit I’ve been meaning to visit for months now. It is a collection of couture by Madame Grès, of Cabochard fame, owned by the late Azzedine Alaïa in his personal collection, covering decades from the 1930s to the 1980s. The exhibit displayed about 70 dresses and other outfits — for a sometime sewist like me, they were just stupendous; the designs and workmanship were astonishing.
Four weeks from tomorrow will be my last day at work! My workplace is having a retirement reception for me, and I’m looking forward to that and then having the rest of the summer off. Usually I’ve only had two weeks of vacation each summer. TBH, I look back over the 18+ years I’ve been in that job, and I’m stunned that I persisted through so many challenges — everything from students in severe crises to vicious academic politics, without any of the job protection most faculty have (I’m staff), all while raising three children. The youngest was three years old when I started that job. I couldn’t have done it without my very supportive, loving husband, who kept me sane when the job did its best to undermine sanity.
How is your summer going? Any particular adventures had or expected?
Serenity Now Scents and Sensibilities 