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, December 22, and the winter solstice has arrived! In this hemisphere, the days will slowly get longer and the light will get stronger. To be honest, I don’t feel the dark days of winter as I used to when I lived in New England, when it would be truly dark by 4 pm in December. Since we’re at the western edge of the Eastern Time Zone in the US, and also in the South, it still doesn’t get dark until after 5 pm here. The real cause for celebration in our house is that our new refrigerator is now in place — hurray! A lovely countertop “fabricator” was able to come and cut just enough from the countertop to squeeze it in between the cabinets. It’s a great improvement and a much better fit than the old one.
As Christmas is only a few days away, are you planning to give any fragrance gifts this year? I have the back-up bottle of Ginger Biscuit for our older daughter, and I finally thought of something for our second daughter. She loves Miss Dior Blooming Bouquet and isn’t looking to branch out, but she has a tendency to “save” Blooming Bouquet for dressier occasions. So I’ll give her a gift set of Philosophy’s Amazing Grace Ballet Rose, which share some of Blooming Bouquet’s notes and smells similar but isn’t as expensive, so she can feel free to wear it often. I hope she likes it! Our son is well-supplied with the Chanel Eau Paris-Edimbourg, since he got some for his birthday, so I won’t seek out another fragrance for him.
I’m late posting my contribution to December’s “Notes on Notes”, but do read what Portia has written about frankincense, traditionally said to have been one of the gifts the Three Kings brought to the newborn Jesus, and I’ll add my Note after Christmas. Right now, in the Christmas story, the Magi are still en route, following the Star, not knowing exactly where it will lead them or what they will find. To all who celebrate Christmas, I wish you a very happy one.
November’s “Notes on Notes” is about oud, or agarwood. I don’t think I can provide a better or clearer explanation than this, from Sarah McCartney in her book “The Perfume Companion: The Definitive Guide to Choosing Your Next Scent”:
Oud is Arabic for wood, and you’ll also see it spelled oudh, aoud, and aoudh. An oudh is also a musical instrument which looks a lot like a lute. In perfumery, though, it’s a specific kind of wood from the agarwood tree, also called aloewood. Even more specifically, this tree must be infected by a species of mould, Phialophora parasitica, which makes it strongly whiffy.
Agarwood and its products; image from Researchgate.net.
Perfumer Geza Schoen offered this explanation to Allure magazine in its excellent article:
Natural oud, the scent (the essential oil) arises when a particular fungus places itself on an Aquilaria tree. A reaction creates a resin that slowly embeds into the wood creating agarwood, known as oud, which is then soaked, and using a distillation and evaporation method is developed into an oil.
That is how perfumers in the Middle East, India, and the Far East have traditionally made a essential oil that can be very costly. As many perfume-lovers know, oud has been a trend in Western perfumery for several years (6 Western commercial fragrances based on oud were launched in 2007, over 200 by 2019), but what we mostly encounter is a synthetic re-creation of that oil, which puts oud-based fragrances within reach of many more fragrance lovers. The qualities of oud that don’t attract me are when it is used heavily to evoke smoke or leather. A great reference for some fragrance-lovers, but not really me. However, I’ve read that there are many different facets to oud, in nature depending on the specific variety of Aquilaria tree and the environment where it was grown, so I’m sure the synthetic creations also vary widely.
I’ll be honest – I can’t think of many oud-focused fragrances that I like a LOT, though I don’t object to it as a supporting player. It may be that my nose is acting sensitive toward a synthetic, but that’s not usually an issue for me. And I’ve gotten weary of every other new fragrance seeming to have “oud” in its name! There is one oud-centric fragrance that I really do enjoy a lot, and it grows on me every time I wear it: David Yurman Limited Edition. It is a classic combination of rose with oud, and both are used with a deft touch. The bottle, by the way, is gorgeous, a heavy, faceted, dark red crystal flacon.
David Yurman Limited Edition extrait de parfum; image from Amazon.com
Launched in 2011, it is an extrait de parfum with central notes of oud and Taif rose. Top notes also include coriander, geranium, saffron, and raspberry, but the rose and oud notes appear immediately and carry through the parfum’s development, so the typical pyramid structre may not accurately describe it. Heart notes include violet and jasmine, though at this stage my nose is so distracted by the Taif rose and oud that I hardly detect them. Base notes add suede, musk, vanilla, and sandalwood. Interestingly, the notes list makes a point of saying “natural agarwood”, though that is no guarantee that the ingredient used isn’t synthetic.
I think this is a very skillful fragrance. The rose and oud could have been overwhelming, and they’re not, at least not with a controlled application, lol. This fragrance is all about gentle, rosy warmth with a bit of spice. The notes are well-blended, with saffron and fruity raspberry peeking through. The rose fades away sooner than the oud but it still hums softly in the background. DY Limited Edition reminds me a bit of Aramis’ Calligraphy Rose, and I wonder how it would compare to Calligraphy Saffron, which I haven’t tried. It’s not clear who was the perfumer behind DY Limited Edition, but I think it has to have been Harry Frémont of Firmenich, who created all the other David Yurman fragrances (the link will take you to a long interview of him by Richard Goller of the Fragroom blog).. He certainly knows his way around a rose, too, as a creator of Estée Lauder’s marvelous Knowing, as well as dozens of other scents.
Have you tried DY Limited Edition? Or can you suggest other oud fragrances that would appeal to a floral lover like me? Drop by Australian Perfume Junkies to see what Portia has to say about oud!
Happy fall! Portia Turbo of Australian Perfume Junkies and I both forgot to post our “Notes on Notes” on the usual first Monday of the month, which was LAST Monday, October 2 (it crept up on us), so we’re a week off. This month’s Note for discussion is nuts. TBH, I suggested this because I wanted to write about the newest addition to my collection, this year’s Un Jardin à Cythère, which my lovely spouse brought me from his trip to London. It features a pistachio note.
Un Jardin à Cythère, by Hermès; image from Hermes.com.
As it happens, apparently pistachio is very au courant in 2023, according to Harper’s Bazaar: “Why All the Cool Kids Smell Like Pistachio Right Now.” Writer Lindy Segal credits the trend to the ongoing fascination with gourmand fragrances, and a post-pandemic desire for fun. And it’s true that pistachios lend themselves to sweet and savory fun, from celadon green ice cream and the toothaching sweetness of baklava, to dishes of salted cocktails nuts and the messy joy of shelling roast pistachios out of a bag.
It turns out that although pistachio is having a moment, and it’s not a commonly used note, it has been featured in other fragrances that have been popular for a while, such as Tom Ford’s Soleil Blanc, Guerlain’s Une Petite Robe Noire Eau Fraiche, and even another of the Jardin fragrances, Un Jardin en Méditerranée. To my surprise, Fragrantica reminded me that it is a note in SJP’s Stash, which I had forgotten. I love Stash, and it couldn’t be more different from the Jardin fragrances, which I also love.
Of course, other nutty notes have been used in perfume, but even looking at the whole category, they’re not terribly common, except for hazelnut. Chestnut, walnut, even almond, aren’t nearly as prevalent as, say, various woody notes. Hazelnut appears as a note in several fragrances I own: Jo Malone’s English Oak and Hazelnut and Ginger Biscuit, Jean Patou’s Que Sais-Je?, Penhaligon’s Elisabethan Rose (2018); and others I know but don’t have: Zoologist’s Chipmunk, Jo Malone’s Oat and Cornflower, L’Artisan’s Mechant Loup, Guerlain’s Habit Rouge, among others. In all of these, hazelnut adds a certain sweetness without sugar, woodiness without weight.
Back to pistachio! I’m fascinated by how differently it is used in the Jardin fragrances. They were, of course, created by two different Hermès perfumers: Jean-Claude Ellena created Méditerrannée in 2003, and Christine Nagel, his successor, launched Cythère twenty years later. In UJeM, pistachio is a bit player, lending some depth to the basenotes, but subordinate to the dominant fig note. (By the way, fig and pistachio are a time-honored combination in various recipes, often partnered with honey and a soft, mild cheese like ricotta or mascarpone – yum!). UJeM is based on an actual garden in Tunis, and it includes floral notes such as orange blossom and white oleander, although the most prominent notes are fig leaf, cypress, cedar, and juniper, which form the base notes together with a touch of pistachio and musk.
Hermès’ Un Jardin en Méditerranée; image by Hermes.com.
In UJaC, Mme. Nagel puts pistachio at the very heart of the fragrance, pairing it beautifully with an accord of olive wood. In comments about her latest Jardin creation, she has said that her pistachio accord is based on her memory of the fresh pistachios she enjoyed on trips to the Greek isle of Kythira, twenty years apart.
Her composition is very clever: this is a garden without flowers. The citrus notes of the opening recall the island’s citrus groves, the pistachio and olive notes evoke the harvests of those important products, and an accord of dry grass captures the dry, sunny climate of Kythira. This is a truly unisex fragrance, despite Kythira’s fame as the legendary birthplace of Aphrodite, who rose from the sea foam off its rocky shores.
Birth of Venus/Aphrodite, by Botticelli; image from the Uffizi Gallery.
As it dries down, UJaC retains the nutty sweetness of pistachio, and one understands better why nuts like pistachios, hazelnuts, and almonds lend themselves so well to sweet desserts and combine beautifully with various fruits. Unlike peanuts, which combine with chocolate well because of the contrast between the two, these sweeter nuts harmonize with sweeter ingredients, the whole becoming greater than the sum of its parts. Think Nutella (hazelnut and chocolate), marzipan (almond and honey), and pistachio gelato (pistachios with milk and sugar).
Pistachio ice cream happens to be my husband’s favorite flavor, and although we don’t usually keep it in the house (both watching our girlish figures, lol), it is a regular though infrequent visitor. Usually the commercial ice cream is made with artificial flavoring, but we do have a local Italian gelato store that has been here for decades, and they make pistachio gelato from scratch, so now I have a yen to go try some! I know I can count on my dear spouse to come along.
The base of UJaC is supported by an accord of olive wood; if you’ve ever visited an olive wood craft workshop, you know that it does indeed have its own distinctive and pleasing aroma. I love carved olive wood and have well-used kitchen implements made from it, the oldest being salad servers we bought on our honeymoon in Provence. My favorite olive wood carving, though, is a little statuette of Madonna and Child, the Virgin Mary being another incarnation of the divine feminine. The wood is as smooth as satin, the grain beautifully suggesting the folds of fabric in her robe.
I’m very happy to have added Un Jardin à Cythère to my collection. It hasn’t displaced Un Jardin Sur le Nil or Un Jardin Après la Mousson as top favorites, but it isn’t far behind. Have you tried it yet? What did you think? And make sure to hop over to Australian Perfume Junkies to get Portia’s Notes on nuts!
Happy September! Anise the subject of our Notes on Notes this month, and it is a note not commonly found in perfume. The fragrance company Bon Parfumeur has a thorough explanation of anise in perfumery on its website. When one finds anise in a fragrance, it is usually anise or star anise, which come from the seeds and oil of two different plants. Anise comes from Pimpinella anisum, native to and grown throughout the Mediterranean area, while star anise comes from Illicium verum, native to southeastern China and Vietnam. Although the seeds’ fragrance and flavor resemble each other, the plants are not related; I was interested to learn that Pimpinella anisum is a member of the same plant family as parsley. Licorice, whose scent and flavor also resemble those of anise, is yet another different plant altogether, and it comes from the roots, not seeds.
Fennel with anise seeds; image by Olena Ukhova/Shutterstock.
All three are used to create an aromatic, spicy accord in a fragrance. Fragrantica had a great “round-up” of best anise fragrances in 2022, noting that fennel is another variation on the same theme (and the plant is related to anise). The substance they have in common is anethole, and I must have an innate affinity for that, because I love strong black licorice, and fennel, and anise-flavored baked goods. My love for black licorice is so familiar to my family that on the rare occasion when jelly beans appear in our house (usually Easter), they all pick out the black ones to give to me! Bon Parfumeur describes its uses in perfumery:
It is used as a top note in perfumes, providing an initial burst of fragrance. It is also used to add a touch of sweetness and richness to gourmand fragrances. In addition, anise complements the warm, exotic compositions of oriental fragrances and contributes to the creation of spicy accords, blending harmoniously with other spices. In addition, anise adds a bold, assertive facet to men’s fragrances. It can also be used to create contrast and complexity when layered with other notes. This is why anise is favored by niche and artisan perfumers for its unique, individual character.
Anise is more often used to flavor liquor and liqueurs, most famously absinthe (said to drive men mad, thus inspiring the name of L’Artisan Parfumeur’s Fou d’Absinthe), but also pastis, ouzo, anisette, sambuca, raki, and others that were created in Mediterranean countries.
La Fée Verte, by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec.
That being the case, it seems fitting that the most obviously anise-forward fragrance I own comes from a Spanish perfumer: Ramon Monegal’s Lovely Day. I think I also have a decant of Réglisse Noire, from 1000 Flowers, which is focused on licorice, as befits its name. However, Elena Vosnaki of Fragrantica, names one fragrance as the “archetypal anisic floral”: Guerlain’s L’Heure Bleue, whose origins go back to 1912 (do read her review, it’s a gorgeous piece of writing). I’ve always loved its name, meant to evoke the twilight hour when the sky briefly turns all shades of darkening blue, purple, and even green.
Painting of twilight by Maxfield Parrish
I happen to have a new bottle of the reissued eau de toilette of L’Heure Bleue, bought in January during a visit to the Guerlain boutique in The Breakers hotel in Palm Beach (highly recommended, if you’re in the area!). Like others in Guerlain’s 2021 collection of Les Légendaires, it does not disappoint. If you don’t love anise, fear not – it has been toned down in this reissue, although I can still pick it up among the top notes (it is listed as “aromatic spices”). It is definitely there, lending a tinge of spice and, dare I say, a tinge of green; more reminiscent of fennel than of licorice. It gives way seamlessly to the heart notes of violet and carnation, which segue into iris, but enough of it lingers to help the florals bridge from the top notes through the heart to the base notes of benzoin, vanilla, and tonka. This edition of L’Heure Bleue is eminently wearable, a true classic that suits modernity well while staying true to its roots.
I know some readers are devoted to Réglisse Noire; do any of you have any other favorite anise or licorice fragrances? Please share in the comments! And check out what Portia has to say about anise at Australian Perfume Junkies.
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”!
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 Friday, June 9, and it really feels like summer here now. I’ve been enjoying some more “summery” fragrances; today’s SOTD is Tom Ford’s Bitter Peach, from a decant. I really like it, but I won’t be needing a full bottle at the brand’s prices. Happy to have this decant, though! Earlier this week, I wore Christian Dior’s La Colle Noire, a perennial favorite (again, from a decant).
If you haven’t yet read this month’s “Notes on Notes“, on this blog and at Australian Perfume Junkies, please do, and add your thoughts about citrus in fragrances! Or feel free to comment here, about any favorite citrus notes or favorite citrus-forward fragrances, or anything citrus-related.
Orange blossom and orange; image from petalrepublic.com
Welcome to the June installment of Notes on Notes, a collaboration with Portia of Australian Perfume Junkies! Each month, we choose a fragrance note and each of us writes a blog post about it based on our personal experiences. This month, the note is citrus (encompassing any and all citrus notes), since it suits the summer months so well.
Most of the familiar citruses are “hesperidic” fruits. According to Wikipedia, “Carl Linnaeus gave the name Hesperideæ to an order containing the genusCitrus, in allusion to the golden apples of the Hesperides.” These include oranges, lemons, grapefruit, limes, and (importantly for fragrance) bergamots. All offer essential oils from their bitter rinds which have been used often in the creation of fragrances, with synthetic versions available as substitutes.
In fragrance, the perfumer I most associate with brilliant use of citrus notes is Jean-Claude Ellena. He likes their bitterness; and a citrus has often been the featured opener for many of his fragrances, including the Jardin series he launched at Hermès. I’ve written before about my love for Un Jardin Sur Le Nil, which opens with a marvelous grapefruit accord. Miller Harris’ discontinued Tangerine Vert is another terrific citrus scent; in that post, I also covered another sadly discontinued fragrance, from Maison Martin Margiela, Replica Filter Glow. It was a dry oil fragrance meant to be directly layered with a complementary scent and said to prolong it. You could also wear it on its own, with its notes of neroli, grapefruit blossom, bergamot, and rose absolute. I think it would enhance any citrus-forward fragrance.
Much as I love the other citrus notes, in perfume my favorite may be bergamot. I was raised on Earl Grey tea, whose distinctive aroma and flavor come from the infusion of bergamot essential oil into the tea, so I associate happy memories of teatime with that scent. (Earl Grey tea brings back childhood memories so strongly that I always drink it with milk and sugar, unlike most of the other teas and coffees I enjoy). I love the fresh zing it brings to a fragrance’s opening, and its green astringency, which partners so well with the green scents I love, like Chanel’s Cristalle and No. 19. Bergamot seems to enhance galbanum, and vice versa.
My two newest citrus-based fragrances were both bought on recent vacation trips (perfume tourism strikes again!): Carthusia’s A’mmare, which I bought in Milan last summer, and Lili Bermuda’s Bermudiana, purchased just last month in Bermuda. Both open with a detectable burst of bergamot, combined with aromatic herbs. A’mmare pairs it with rosemary (and salt); Bermudiana with basil and aldehydes. The fragrances are separated by six decades — Bermudiana was launched in 1962, and A’mmare in 2021.
A’mmare
Bermudiana has a strong heart note of galbanum, one of my favorites. A’mmare‘s heart notes are an aquatic accord and mint. Both fragrances pair so well with bergamot; both are very summery without being too beachy (i.e., they don’t smell to me like sunscreen). I love their combination of bergamot with different green herbs. They feel like summer colognes but last much longer.
Do you have any favorite citrus notes? Are there any you really dislike? I actually can’t think of any I dislike …
As many of you know, I am not only a perfumista but an avid gardener. And of the many flowers I love, a favorite genus is Narcissus. Some of the common names for members of this family are daffodils, jonquils, narcissi, paperwhites, etc. Most have a fragrance that I find very alluring; and I love the succession of spring blossoms they provide over a long season.
The flower is often said to have been named after a Greek myth recounted by the Latin poet Ovid, in his “Metamorphoses.” The story tells of a remarkably beautiful youth, Narcissus, who scorns the love of the many people who become infatuated with him, including the nymph Echo. The gods decide to punish him by decreeing that he would never know love, but any love he felt for another would be unrequited and unattainable. One day, while he was out hunting, he went to a spring to drink water and saw his own reflection. He fell instantly in love, but of course he could not embrace or converse with his watery double. Consumed by this unrequited love, he stayed by the pool, gazing only at himself, until he wasted away and died. When the nymphs came to bury his body, in its place they found only a beautiful flower – the narcissus.
However, there is another origin story for the narcissus, told by Homer in a hymn to Demeter, which says that the flower was created to lure Persephone away from her friends and her mother Demeter, so that Hades, god of the underworld, could abduct her: “a marvelous, radiant flower. It was a thing of awe whether for deathless gods or mortal men to see: from its root grew a hundred blooms and it smelled most sweetly, so that all wide heaven above and the whole earth and the sea’s salt swell laughed for joy. And the girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to take the lovely toy.” (translated from the Greek by Hugh G. Evelyn-White, Loeb Classical Library).
Narcissus absolute is extracted from real narcissus flowers, usually Narcissus poeticus, but sometimes Narcissus jonquilla or Narcissus tazetta, through a solvent method. It takes huge amounts of flowers to create a single kilogram of absolute, so it is an expensive ingredient. It is also very complex, with hints of its close cousins the lilies, but also echoes of jasmine, green notes, a touch of hay or tobacco, and even some animalic notes. Some people detect notes of leather in narcissus absolute. It is also possible to extract narcissus oil by using the traditional method of enfleurage.
Luckily, because natural narcissus absolute, concrete, and oil are all very expensive, there are excellent synthetic alternatives. Perfumer Sarah McCartney has a series of related fragrances in which she experimented with varying amounts of naturals and synthetics, the “Clouds” series, named after Joni Mitchell’s song “Both Sides Now.” The first two fragrances, Clouds and Clouds’ Illusion, were the same scent, crowd-funded by the Eau My Soul Facebook group, but Clouds used the more expensive naturals and Clouds’ Illusion used more synthetic versions of the same substances (with some of the less expensive naturals). Both Sides of Clouds is a remix, using both naturals and synthetics. I have and love all three, plus a later and darker sibling, Complicated Shadows.
The narcissus-based fragrances I like best are those that really evoke the flowers themselves, so I gravitate to the ones that combine green notes with the narcotic aspect of the blossoms that rely on indoles (like jasmine). Clouds’ Illusion fulfills that wish, and so does one of my all-time favorites, Penhaligon’s Ostara.
Penhaligon’s Ostara eau de parfum among daffodils
But I’ve written about both of them before, so today I’ll focus on Tom Ford’s Jonquille de Nuit. Launched in 2012, it was part of a group that included Ombre de Hyacinthe, Café Rose, and Lys Fumé. It was reissued in 2019 as part of Tom Ford’s “Private Blend Reserve Collection”. Jonquille de Nuit is a beautiful floral. The name deceives, however – it is not dark or sultry, as one might assume from “nuit” (night). TBH, it smells to me more like mimosa than jonquil, but it’s very pretty and sunny.
The opening notes are mimosa, violet leaf, angelica, cyclamen, bitter orange blossom; heart note is narcissus; and the base notes are orris and amber. The mimosa accord especially gives the impression of yellow pollen, somewhat like Ostara, which does not have mimosa listed as a note. Right from the start, Jonquille smells soapy, in a nice way, without smelling like aldehydes (I like aldehydes, but I don’t smell them here). The soapiness may be coming from the angelica accord. There is a pleasant, understated greenness to the opening also, doubtless from the violet leaf accord. Overall, Jonquille smells quite synthetic, though not unpleasantly so.
To my nose, Jonquille de Nuit is a fragrance that evokes jonquils rather than representing them. Ostara, on the other hand, smells like an actual bouquet of daffodils. A favorite blogger and author, Neil Chapman of The Black Narcissus, calls it “frighteningly hyper-realistic” in his book “Perfume: In Search of Your Signature Scent.” (I can’t write a post about narcissus without mentioning his eponymous blog which I highly recommend). I like Jonquille de Nuit and I’m glad I have a couple of decants from a scent subscription, but I wouldn’t pay the exorbitant prices I see for it. Personally, for that amount of money, I would go buy another back-up bottle of Ostara! Or another bottle of the parfum version of Both Sides of Clouds, which I’ve been enjoying this spring and which I believe contains real narcissus absolute.
Speaking of insane prices, one of the fragrances I considered for this post was Narcisse, by Chloe, as I have a 30 ml bottle. It still has its price tag from a brick and mortar discount store: $14.99. Discontinued, it now lists online for three figures! While I like Narcisse, and it captures the narcotic, indolic aura of the flowers, it rests pretty far down my list of fragrances, so I’m glad I snagged my one small bottle when I did. I don’t feel the need for another.
Do you have any favorite fragrances named for, or containing, narcissus? Also, happy May Day – I won’t be doing a May Marathon on the blog this year as I’ll be traveling again this month, but do enjoy my “May Muguet Marathon” and “Roses de Mai Marathon” from prior years! Check out what Portia has to say about narcissus; and look for our next collaborative post, “Counterpoint“, where we choose a fragrance and each of us answers the same list of questions about it.
Happy Monday! As it’s the first Monday of the month, Portia Turbo of Australian Perfume Junkies and I are both posting about a fragrance note we’ve chosen; this month, it is galbanum.
I’ve realized over the years that galbanum may be my most favorite note in fragrances. It is the common thread among the many green fragrances I love, such as Chanel’s No. 19 and Cristalle, Balmain’s Vent Vert and Ivoire, Dior’s Miss Dior, Guerlain’s Vol de Nuit and Chamade, Jacomo’s Silences, and almost any fragrance with “vert” or “green” in its name. It doesn’t just appear in older classics, though — it is a key note in newer scents like Prada’s Infusion d’Iris, Frederic Malle’s Synthetic Jungle, and Papillon’s Dryad, among others. Not surprisingly, it is often found in chypre fragrances, usually with oakmoss.
One interesting thing I’ve learned about galbanum is that, as used in fragrance, it is actually an aromatic gum resin extracted from the plants Ferula gummosa and Ferula rubricaulis. So although we often see it listed as a top note, because it does tend to announce its presence immediately, it often persists through the heart stage and among the base notes. It has been valued by perfumers as a fixative, as are many resins. Nowadays, it often appears in fragrance in a synthetic form, as explained here on Fragrantica (the article is archived so you must register or be already registered to read it). The article’s author, Matvey Yudov, says that the original Vent Vert, created in 1945 by Germaine Cellier for Balmain, had 8% galbanum in its formula!
One of my favorite galbanum-rich fragrances is the afore-mentioned Silences, by Jacomo, in its original format. The 2012 reformulation, Silences Eau de Parfum Sublime, is lovely in its own right and still very green, but not as green as the 1978 original and 2004 reissue, which I think is the one I have. The first Silences has the following notes: top notes of Galbanum, Green Notes, Cassia, Bergamot, Orange Blossom, and Lemon; middle notes of Hyacinth, Lily-of-the-Valley, Iris, Narcissus, Rose, and Jasmine; base notes of Oakmoss, Vetiver, Cedar, Ambrette (Musk Mallow), Sandalwood, and Musk.
It just so happens that hyacinth, lily of the valley, iris, narcissus, and rose are some of my very favorite flowers in real life and accords in perfume. I was destined to love Silences! In it, the bitter, astringent green of the galbanum accord beautifully balances the sweetness of the floral notes, especially the orange blossom, rose and jasmine.
But since I’ve written before about Silences and some of the others mentioned above, this month I’ll turn to something different: Robert Piguet’s Bandit. The original, launched in 1944, was another creation of perfumer Germaine Cellier.
Robert Piguet’s Bandit; vintage ad.
The version that was reissued in 1999 has these notes according to Fragrantica (though the notes list may belong more accurately to the 1944 original): “Top notes are Aldehydes, Galbanum, Artemisia, Bergamot, Neroli, Gardenia, Ylang-Ylang and Orange; middle notes are Carnation, Jasmine, Violet Root, Tuberose and Rose; base notes are Oakmoss, Leather, Civet, Vetiver, Patchouli, Myrrh, Musk, Amber and Coconut.” That version has now been replaced by Bandit Suprême, launched in 2020. It is still, as that article says, a perfume for “fearless women”!
Bandit makes a strong entrance right away, with the aldehydes lifting up galbanum and artemisia over the floral notes like a green hot-air balloon soaring over a garden or flowering fields. It reminds me of other strong aromatic perfumes that have undertones of leather, like Estée Lauder’s Azurée. Bergamot, which is both citrusy and green, makes a lively companion to the galbanum and artemisia, brightening whatever darkness they might otherwise shed. To my nose, the most prominent among the heart notes is the violet root, but that may be because the green top notes carry forward so powerfully. I can sense that the flower accords are there, especially the carnation, but if you asked me whether I smelled rose or jasmine after a blind sniff, I would say no.
The strongest base notes to my nose are oakmoss and leather with the galbanum still making its presence felt. If this 1999 version has any civet accord, it is of course synthetic, like the modern musk accord. But synthetic civet usually smells sort of urinous to my nose, and I don’t smell that here. Now that I know the galbanum used in fragrance is based on a resin, it makes sense to me that it carries all the way through until it meets up with myrrh in the base. The musk and amber accords create a warmth that was absent from the exhilarating opening — perhaps that’s the soft landing for the green hot-air balloon I imagined!
Green hot air balloon; image from vistivictoria.com
Do you have any favorite fragrances with an obvious dose of galbanum? And remember to link over to Australian Perfume Junkies to get Portia’s Notes on that note!
Serenity Now Scents and Sensibilities 