Scent Semantics, August 1

Scent Semantics, August 1

The first thing that came to my mind when I learned that this month’s Scent Semantics word is “family” was not my actual family, but groupings of fragrances. I considered writing about a pillar fragrance and its flankers, but those are usually mainstream or designer fragrances and none of the available options seemed exciting this month. Then I thought about “fragrance families”, like florals, but that seemed too vast.

However, there are several small, independent perfumers who have a total number of fragrances that is quite small and manageable – like a family! So I’ve decided to discuss the fragrance family of Papillon Artisan Perfumes, founded and led by perfumer Liz Moores, in England.

Papillon’s first fragrances, launched in 2014, were the trio of Angelique, Anubis, and Tobacco Rose. I first encountered them in 2015, at the now-closed Marble Arch location of London’s Les Senteurs (the original location on Elizabeth Street is still very much open and in operation, and well worth a visit). I remember the shop assistant recommending them and telling me what a very nice person Liz Moores is! All her fragrances are eaux de parfum except for Hera, which is an extrait.

Here is what the Papillon website says about each:

Angelique:

Inspired by the astonishing beauty of the Iris Pallida flower, Angelique captures the delicate essence of a delightful Spring garden. Cascades of French mimosa, osmanthus and white champac are woven between the powdered, violet facets of precious orris. Virginian cedarwood and subtle notes of frankincense bring an ethereal light and delicate freshness to this tender composition.

Anubis:

With a name inspired by the Egyptian God of the afterlife, Anubis embodies the sacred mysteries of Ancient Egypt. Heady blooms of jasmine, amid rich suede, smoulder over an incense laden base of frankincense, sandalwood, and labdanum. Vivid slashes of immortelle, pink lotus and saffron create a perfume shrouded in darkness and veiled in mystery.

Tobacco Rose:

A sensual blend of Bulgarian rose, geranium and Rose de Mai form an opulent backdrop of velvety rose notes set against a luxuriously rich and smoky base of French hay and earthy oakmoss. Soft animalic touches of ambergris and beeswax have been suspended in a sumptuous blend of musks, creating an enigmatic, alluring and unmistakable perfume. A stunningly different interpretation of the majestic rose.

The original three fragrances were followed in 2015 by Salome and in 2017 by Dryad. Bengale Rouge was released in 2019, Spell 125 in 2021, and Hera in 2022. In that order, here are their descriptions from the brand:

Salome:

With daring doses of indolic jasmine and rich feral musks, Salome’s bedevilled and velvety animalic facets dance seductively behind a veil of Turkish rose and carnation. Vintage and honeyed, it lures with the warm, plush appeal of an erotic boudoir before ensnaring the wearer in a web of unashamed erotic delight. Slip into your second skin with Salome.

Dryad:

As vibrant emerald Galbanum weaves with the delicate flesh of Bergamot, the nomadic wanderings of Dryad begin. Beneath jade canopies, sweet-herbed Narcissus nestles with gilded Jonquil. Shadows of Apricot and Cedrat morph radiant greens to a soft golden glow. Earthed within the ochre roots of Benzoin, heady Oakmoss entwines with deep Vetiver hues. And at its heart, the slick skin of Costus beckons you further into the forest…

Bengale Rouge:

A golden fur, swathed in sandalwood and doused in honey. Sweet myrrh purrs behind a warm, rosy skin, misted with oakmoss and dappled in the rich shades of a leopard pelt. A cosy, caramel comfort glows from a gourmand heart, while sweet Tonka slinks an opulent softness upon your skin.

Spell 125:

In the Book of the dead, Spell 125 represents a balance of light and dark, life and death. The compelling ceremony of weighing the deceased’s heart against a feather animate a delicate olfactory rendering of the lightness of the soul, with just a sliver of the underworld shadows. Rise in sparkles, with the brightness of Siberian Pine. Let salt and resin lap at your skin, an ethereal cleanse, slick with wintergreen powders. A weightless shroud of lucent white ambergris lifts you. A glow of green sacra frankincense haunts you. Suspended in the lustre of ylang, you float between this world and the next.

Hera:

The goddess of weddings, family and blessings, Hera possessed a majestic power. Here, she is celebrated in the opulence of orris and jasmine. Engulfed in flowers, you are invited by a burst of orange blossom, radiating a golden halo of warm white flowers. Delicate touches reveal a buttery, rich embrace. Rose de mai brings a whisper of drama and gentle musk offers a sensual caress for Gods and Goddesses alike. A bright and beautiful perfume, steeped in energetic luxury and effortless glamour.

How do I experience these siblings? Angelique is a beautifully soft iris. No sharp edges or notes here! It embraces both the rooty and powdery facets of orris in fragrance. I smell the rootiness first, almost like fresh carrots, then the powdery aspect emerges, supported by mimosa. To my nose, mimosa is more prominent than osmanthus. Angelique just keeps getting better and better on my wrist. As of now, I only have samples of it, but a full bottle may be in my future this year, to join my full bottles of Dryad and Bengale Rouge.

Anubis is not my usual type of fragrance, but it is gorgeous! I experience it as incense-focused, with jasmine and saffron playing supporting roles. The incense chord is based on frankincense, together with sandalwood and labdanum. I think it is the labdanum that generates the impression of “suede.” Anubis is a rich, spicy, ambery fragrance, well suited to colder weather. It would be particularly appealing in autumn, I think; its warmth recalls the late afternoon sunlight and still-warm earthiness of October. It carries well, though I wouldn’t say it has huge sillage; it easily wafts from my wrist to my nose while I type.

Tobacco Rose is just what it sounds like: a smoky rose. The “tobacco” of its name is created by a blend of hay and oakmoss notes. It doesn’t smell like it is burning; it smells like tobacco leaves hanging to dry after being harvested. The smokiness is very gentle; and it is less a smell of actual smoke than it is the suggestion of smoke that is inherent in dried tobacco. As it dries down, the rose recedes for a while; and the geranium becomes the more dominant floral note, to my nose; then the rose returns. This dance between rose and geranium, against a backdrop of dried hay/tobacco, is very appealing.

Oh my! When I first sniff Salome on my wrist, my brain immediately says “skank!”, due to notes of hyrax and castoreum that announce themselves right away. I’m not into animalic fragrances, though I can appreciate them as creative works, so Salome‘s opening is somewhat off-putting. I’m happy to note, though, that after only about ten minutes, it calms down and becomes softer and more floral, with a really nice carnation note (I love carnation scents). I can still smell hints of the animalic notes, but they are now in the background, where I prefer them to be. The drydown is lovely, sensual and warm.

Be still, my heart! Dryad is a major perfume love for me, as I’ve written before. It is as green as a fragrance can get, with a strong dose of galbanum, which I happen to love. If you don’t like strong greens such as Chanel’s No. 19 or Balmain’s Vent Vert, make sure you try before you buy! But do try it — it is spectacularly beautiful, to my nose, and a true work of perfumery art. Its notes include several aromatic herbs such as Clary sage, thyme, and lavender; its structure is that of a classic chypre. After its powerful opening, it softens and it does not have the edginess I find in my beloved No. 19.

Bengale Rouge was inspired by perfumer Liz Moores’ own Bengal cat, Mimi. Like Ms. Moores’ other fragrances, it is a clever combination of notes and references to create a very specific impression. Here, she brings out the slightly animalic facets of honey to evoke the soft, warm fur of a feline that is domesticated — but not entirely. Bengal cats are said to make very appealing pets if their owner can accommodate their high energy, intelligence, and playfulness. Their coats strongly resemble the small wild cats from which they are descended, such as the Asian leopard cat. Bengale Rouge is warm, sweet in the way that honey is sweet; floral in the way that honey can be floral. It is just beautiful, and lovely to wear in the winter.

Group of Bengal cats
Bengal cats; image from vetstreet.com

I haven’t yet tried Spell 125 or Hera, Papillon’s latest offerings, though I look forward to doing so. Hera was just released, as Ms. Moores first created it as a custom wedding fragrance for her daughter Jasmine, then delayed its release to the public by a year. Have you tried either of them, or any other Papillon fragrances? What do you think of them?

Please go read the posts by my fellow Scent Semantics bloggers; you will find their links here.

Perfume Chat Room, March 18

Perfume Chat Room, March 18

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, March 18, and I’ve been wearing green fragrances all week! This makes me very happy, as I love and own many green fragrances.

Image from Disney’s Fantasia 2000; http://www.disney.com

Truly, this has been a week for the “wearin’ o’ the green“! Today I’ll be wearing Papillon’s Dryad; earlier this week, I wore Cristalle, Chamade, Silences, and of course Chanel No. 19. Other options I could have chosen (and I may wear some this weekend, just to keep it going) are Envy, Decou-Vert, Vent Vert, Manifesto, Azurée, Aromatics Elixir, one of the Tom Ford Vert series, Le Jardin de Monsieur McGregor, too many others to list.

Yes, I am wallowing in green this week. Do you like green fragrances? Any particular favorites?

Outdoor sculpture of the Mud Maid, Lost Gardens of Heligan, Cornwall
Mud Maid, The Lost Gardens of Heligan
Perfume Chat Room, October 30

Perfume Chat Room, October 30

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, October 30, the day before Halloween. I’m taking part in the weekly Friday community project at the blog “Now Smell This“, which today is to wear a scent that generates emotion in you. Mine is Anne Klein II, which brings back happy memories of being a young adult in Manhattan. However, since tomorrow is Halloween, I may have to switch later to something slightly more sinister. Cabochard, perhaps? I’m currently very intrigued by that scent and am comparing the two most recent versions of both the EDT and EDP (they were reformulated in 2019).

Tomorrow I will probably wear something by Papillon’s Liz Moores, who is an actual modern witch as well as a tremendously gifted perfumer. Maybe Bengale Rouge? But I do love Dryad … decisions, decisions. Will you do anything special for Halloween? Or wear any special fragrance?

Scent Sample Sunday: The Wearin’ O’ The Green

Scent Sample Sunday: The Wearin’ O’ The Green

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! In honor of the day, let us rejoice in the “wearing of the green” — green fragrances, that is. I love green fragrances, as you might expect from a blogger whose nom de plume is “Old Herbaceous“, and my most difficult fragrance choice today will be to decide which of the many I own I will wear. (Another option might be to wear one of the fragrances I brought home from Ireland last summer, including some from the small independent perfumer The Burren Perfumery, but today I’ll probably go with a classic green). Today will be a celebration of “The Wearin’ O’ The Green”!

Green nymph Fantasia

Image from Disney’s Fantasia 2000; http://www.disney.com

Fragrantica did one of its wonderful “Best in Show” columns last year on green fragrances, which you can read here: Best in Show: Green Fragrances (2018). As the editor notes, “green” can describe a wide range of fragrances and notes, which can include: galbanum, patchouli, vetiver, grasses, mosses, ivy, and leaves (especially tea and tomato), lime, basil, rosemary, mint, and cilantro, green mango and apple, conifer needles, bamboo, and more. Many of the muguet fragrances I love are quite green. As I’ve already written a lot about so many of those, and will again later this spring, I’ll pass over them as a category for now.

Some of the classic greens I own and love are Chanel No. 19, Chanel Cristalle, Annick Goutal Grand Amour, Gucci Envy, Balmain Vent Vert (the 1991 version, by Calice Becker), Jacomo Silences, Estee Lauder Azuree, Clinique Aromatics Elixir.

My newer green niche perfumes include (of course) Papillon’s Dryad, Beaufort London’s Fathom V, Amouage Bracken, L’Artisan Parfumeur’s The Pour Un Ete, Laboratorio Olfattivo’s Decou-Vert, DSH Perfumes Le Jardin Vert. There are others, but many of them I own only in small sample sizes, so I’m not counting them here!

Green fragrances: Chanel No. 19, Cristalle, Papillon Dryad, on Liberty shawl

Favorite green fragrances

While I know that “green” fragrances are said to be the least favored category of fragrance, I know many of you also love them. What are your favorites? Do you plan to wear a green fragrance today?

Outdoor sculpture of the Mud Maid, Lost Gardens of Heligan, Cornwall

Mud Maid, The Lost Gardens of Heligan

Scent Sample Sunday: Dryad

Scent Sample Sunday: Dryad

I first learned about dryads from C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia, books I dearly loved as a child and still love. Dryads are tree spirits, nymphs who personify trees and may inhabit them. They are benign pagan beings, female, and sometimes referred to as “wood-women” in Narnia. In the Narnia books, Lewis describes both male and female tree spirits, but he only uses “dryad” to refer to female spirits. Dryads, when they appear in human form, take on the characteristics of the particular trees they inhabit: birch-girls in silver, beech-girls in fresh, transparent green, and the larch-girls in green so bright that it was almost yellow.”

Illustration of a dryad tree nymph by Arthur Rackham.

Dryad, by Arthur Rackham, 1913.

Papillon Artisan Perfumes’ Liz Moores has conjured up a bewitching, witchy green perfume in her 2017 creation, Dryad. I have a great love for green scents, as well as the florals I love, and this nymph has won my heart. From the Papillon website:

As vibrant emerald Galbanum weaves with the delicate flesh of Bergamot, the nomadic wanderings of Dryad begin.

Beneath jade canopies, sweet-herbed Narcissus nestles with gilded Jonquil. Shadows of Apricot and Cedrat morph radiant greens to a soft golden glow.

Earthed within the ochre roots of Benzoin, heady Oakmoss entwines with deep Vetiver hues.

And at its heart, the slick skin of Costus beckons you further into the forest…

And into the forest I happily go! Papillon lists the notes as follows: Narcissus, Oakmoss, Jonquil, Cedrat, Galbanum, Benzoin, Vetiver. The narcissus and jonquil notes are very evident at the start, but the galbanum (a green resin) is right there with them, giving a sharpness in contrast to the floral notes, as if to remind us that there are no living flowers without green stems and leaves. Dryad does not evoke a bouquet or still life of cut flowers — far from it. It smells like a tree come to life — a vibrant, dynamic being with unpredictable movement. This nymph dances.

Green nymph Fantasia

Image from Disney’s Fantasia 2000

As it dries down, Dryad brings out more and more of the oakmoss, the cedar, and the benzoin, which happens to be an oil extracted from a specific kind of tree. The word “dryad” comes from the ancient Greek word for oak, so oakmoss also fits right in. Honestly, this fragrance is so clever as well as lovely! As I had hoped when Dryad‘s launch was announced, this fragrance is GREEN as well as being a chypre. If you hate Chanel No. 19, for instance, you may want to keep your distance. Even the bergamot mentioned in the website copy is a green citrus, not a sweet one. Despite several wood-related notes, though, Dryad never feels “woody” to me.

This is a potent potion; one small spritz on each of my wrists, and I happily smelled it wafting up to my nose all evening. I don’t think it carries very far away from me, i.e. sillage is moderate, but it lasts for several hours. The more it dries down, the more I detect a faint sweetness; the sharper edge of the opening stage has softened. The whole progression has a vintage vibe, but the fragrance is thoroughly modern and unisex.

Dryad is perfect for the cool, sunny fall days we are having now, with the nights that approach, but do not quite reach, frost. While doing some research for this post, I found a poem that C.S. Lewis wrote in the 1940s, before the Narnia books. It describes a magician forcing a dryad to leave her tree and take human form, which she experiences as a prison; he releases her to return to her tree, but the tree’s leaves fall and it will wither and die. Dryad is not a sad or withering scent, just as fall is not a season of death. Trees lose their leaves in the fall so they can slumber through the winter, and awake afresh in the spring, bursting into green with the daffodils. So Lewis’ poem is not quite apropos here, but I’ll share it anyway, and borrow some of his words:

She drank
With thirst of myriad mouths the bursting cataracts of the sun,
The drizzle of gentler stars, and indivisible small rain.
Wading the dark earth, made of earth and light, cradled in air …

This Dryad does indeed embrace the sun, the rain, the dark earth, and the green air of an ancient forest, like the New Forest where she was born. And even when she slumbers, the promise of her reawakening lies beneath the surface.

Mud Maid sculpture in the Lost Gardens of Heligan, Cornwall

Mud Maid, the Lost Gardens of Heligan

MAGICIAN
Out of your dim felicity of leaves, oh Nymph appear,
answer me in soft-showery voice, attempt the unrooted dance
–My art shall sponsor the enormity. Now concentrate,
Around, where in your vegetative heart it drowses deep
In seminal sleep, your feminine response. Conjuro te
Per Hecates essentiam et noctis silentia,

Breaking by Trivia’s name your prison of bark. Beautiful, awake.

DRYAD
Risen from the deep lake of my liberty, into your prison
She has come, cruel commander.

MAGICIAN
I have given speech to the dumb.
Will you not thank me, silver lady?

DRYAD
Oh till now she drank
With thirst of myriad mouths the bursting cataracts of the sun,
The drizzle of gentler stars, and indivisible small rain.
Wading the dark earth, made of earth and light, cradled in air,
All that she was, she was all over. Now the mask you call
A Face has blotted out the ambient hemisphere’s embrace;
Her light is screwed into twin nodules of tormenting sight;
Searing divisions tear her into five. She cannot hear
But only see, the moon; earth has no taste; she cannot breathe
at every branch vibrations of the sky. For a dome of severance,
A helmet, a dark, rigid box of bone, has overwhelmed
Her hair…that was her lungs…that was her nerves…that kissed the air.
Crushed in a brain, her thought that circled cooly in every vein
Turns into poison, thickens like a man’s, ferments and burns.
She was at peace when she was in her unity. Oh now release
And let her out into the seamless world, make her forget.

MAGICIAN
Be free. Relapse. And so she vanishes. And now the tree
Grows barer every moment. The leaves fall. A killing air,
Sighing from the country of Man, has withered it. The tree will die.

~C.S. Lewis, “The Magician and the Dryad”, Poems (1964)

National Fragrance Week: Papillon Perfumery

National Fragrance Week: Papillon Perfumery

I am so in awe of Papillon Perfumery, aka Papillon Artisan Perfumes, I don’t know quite what to say. It is another British, fine fragrance, independent perfumery. Its founder and creative perfumer, Liz Moores, seems like such an interesting person. I first heard of her line, and her, some years ago on a visit to London, not long after I first started obsessing over perfume. Of course I went to visit Les Senteurs, having read about it as a premier retailer of niche fragrances. I asked to see some rose-based fragrances, as I had been visiting rose gardens that week, and the sales associate pulled out Tobacco Rose. He explained that this was one of (at the time) three new fragrances by this independent perfumer named Liz Moores. He raved about their quality and also noted that Ms. Moores is a genuinely nice person. I left with a sample of Tobacco Rose, and it is gorgeous. There’s no tobacco note, but it is a smoky, resinous, balsamic rose. I don’t have a full bottle yet, but maybe some day … Here’s what its creator has said about it:

With this perfume I wanted to defy typical perceptions of rose fragrances. I think that Rose is a material that really divides people, often perceived as an outdated scent. Far from the typically feminine rose fragrances, Tobacco Rose is a dirtier, more rebellious rose, transcending its old-fashioned usage and creating the scent of an overblown rose at the point of decay.

I don’t get a sense of decay, but this is definitely not a fresh, dewy rose (I love those too). Now there are five Papillon fragrances. The full bottle of a Papillon perfume I DO have is the newest one, Dryad. Be still, my beating heart! Dryad is green, green, and more green. From the website:

As vibrant emerald Galbanum weaves with the delicate flesh of Bergamot, the nomadic wanderings of Dryad begin.

Beneath jade canopies, sweet-herbed Narcissus nestles with gilded Jonquil. Shadows of Apricot and Cedrat morph radiant greens to a soft golden glow.

Earthed within the ochre roots of Benzoin, heady Oakmoss entwines with deep Vetiver hues.

And at its heart, the slick skin of Costus beckons you further into the forest…

Yes, please, take me into this fantasy forest! I have tried two of the other Papillon fragrances in store, Salome and Anubis; while they are stunning, they’re not quite right for me. But I am so impressed by the quality and creativity of all these scents, and how selective Ms. Moores is being about her releases. The only one I haven’t tried is Angelique, a floral that may suit me better. Something to look forward to!

 

Weekend Fragrance Bargains

Weekend Fragrance Bargains

I got some great fragrance bargains this weekend! One I had ordered several days ago, but it came this weekend: Missoni Missoni, the older version by Maurice Roucel to which Luca Turin awarded five stars. It has been discontinued and was replaced in 2015 by a completely different fragrance. I had been hoping to try Roucel’s version, and had been disappointed once when an online discounter showed a photo of that one but sent the new one. When I saw that Perfumania had 1 oz. bottles of the eau de parfum for under $20, I thought, why not take a chance and try again? And yes, it’s the right one, in the orange-toned box with the short, tilted bottle. It is very intriguing, and so far I like it a lot.

I also found some little treasures at T.J. Maxx — I love that, because in return for very modest amounts of money, I get to expand my familiarity with different combinations of notes and knowledge of fragrance. The list: Clean White Woods: $16.00 for 2 oz.; Tokyomilk Dark No . 28 Excess, 1.6 oz. for $7.99; Vera Bradley Macaroon Rose, .5 oz. for $5.99.

A slightly more splurgey purchase was Guerlain’s Terracottareduced on saks.com from $79 to $49 (helpful info from another blogger!). I thought I could pick it up in person at my local SFA; was very surprised to find they had no Guerlain counter at all and only had Shalimar in stock at the store! The friendly sales associate told me that Guerlain had been pulling out of most US department stores — thank goodness, they still seem to be fully present at the Neiman Marcus in my city. Anyway, she was lovely enough to show me some new By Kilian fragrances instead and sent me home with a couple of samples: Forbidden Games and Moonlight In Heaven (I especially liked the latter). Then I went over to Nordstrom (in the same mall) and got samples of Tom Ford’s new Vert fragrances: Vert BohemeVert d’EncensVert de FleurVert des Bois.

Set of green mossy furniture, chairs, sofa, table, outside.

Moss furniture; image from Black Burge Art blog.

None of those would qualify as fragrance bargains if I had bought full bottles! I’m delighted with my free samples, though, and I appreciate that Nordstrom just put them out on the counter with a note saying: “Take One, It’s Yours!”.  I really liked Vert Boheme and Vert de Fleur. But if I’m going to spring for a pricier green fragrance this year, it will be Papillon‘s Dryad. I am so eager to try this! Several blogs I follow have detailed, enthusiastic reviews: Megan in Sainte Maxime, Kafkaesque, The Candy Perfume Boy, A Bottled Rose. I have a birthday coming up, so who knows?

Have you tried any of the fragrances mentioned here? What did you think? And what’s your next fragrance splurge?

Mosaiculture topiary of earth goddess at Atlanta Botanical Garden

Earth Goddess, Atlanta Botanical Garden

Featured image: Atlanta Botanical Garden.