Showing posts with label Penhaligons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Penhaligons. Show all posts

Friday, June 7, 2019

Drinking Fig Gin and Smelling of Fig Perfume


Figs were revered by the ancient Greeks as a staple of life and this year on the annual sojourn to my husband's home in Adelaide I discovered a drink that would have truly been considered a nectar of the gods by those ancient Greeks. Pot & Stills Fig Gin is produced in the Adelaide Hills by a fig grower who was wondering what to do with all their excess figs a few years ago and with the help of a local distiller began turning them into gin. My introduction to the brand came at Cellar Door Fest, a monumental extravaganza for local small wineries who want to make consumers aware of their products. Amidst all the gorgeous wine displays I came across a sight similar to the one below.


The beautiful display of figs and the attractive gin bottles got our attention and after sipping it we left with a bottle of the stuff. I'm not always a gin lover but this drink is fantastic mixed with tonic and excellent just to sip straight with ice and a lime, but don't try bothering to find it unless you're in Australia. Production isn't that large and it has become so popular you have to practically be there when it's being unloaded from the truck to put on the store shelves.

All of this interest in figs got me to thinking about figs in perfumery, for as those of you that love perfumes know, it is always about the scent! Fig is one of the favorite notes I love to wear in summer. It is totally unisex. Almost any fig perfume I can name suits men and women equally well. It is refreshing on its on, but depending what notes the perfumer chooses to surround the fig it can be green, beachy, or jammy, and in my opinion they all have their own appeal. The recent history of fig perfume all started with one woman, though, Olivia Giacobetti who created Premier Figuier for the at-the-time newish brand L'Artisan Parfumeur in 1994. Premier Figuier is said to be the first fig perfume. Two years later Giacobetti would make a fig scent for Diptyque called Philosykos. I own both and only when testing side by side for this post realized that having both is probably redundant.

Perfumer Olivia Giacobetti.

L'Artisan Primier Figuer EDT is like a love letter to figs. Green and succulent, fresh and realistic as if one's hands are covered in figgy pulp. I can smell the purple bruise-colored skin of the fig, the green leaves of the tree, and the way the delicate branch holding the weight of the fig gives a "snap" and you get a hint of the goodness inside the fruit, escaping through the tiny hole left by breaking the connection to Mother Tree. Let me add here that I tried Premier Figuier Extreme and did not get this opening. I didn't find it very interesting so the review is only for the original version. A light milky scent tinged only slightly by coconut creeps in and everything in the scent comes down a notch, not an uncommon occurrence with L'Artisan scents, which are not known for their longevity. Long before its base note of sandalwood appears the scent is just a slight imprint on my skin. I guess this is why the Extreme version was made, but it does not feel like the same scent on my skin. I give this one a 10/10 for the realistic and natural scent but a 3/10 for longevity. But by perfume standards today it's not too expensive so my solution is to carry a decant with me and periodically respray throughout the day, giving myself a small thrill of pleasure each time that I do. I will add that like several of the L'Artisan fragrances, I think it is long gone and then it pops up again, out of the blue.


When I spray Diptyque Philosykos on its own I really enjoy the opening and it feels like fresh fig, but when I do the side-by-side comparison to the L'Artisan it pales for me. It's opening is at first green, but it made me think swampy green. The fig comes in next and it is pulpy and more green than sweet. The milky essence becomes very noticeable. As the scent develops I sense a wetness as if the rain is sitting on the broad fig leaves in droplets and also that smell of wet earth. The scent becomes slightly fruitier and the coconut is there, although not super strong. This one outlasts the L'Artisan EDT on my skin and it becomes a clean yet sensual skin scent eventually. Yet if I had to pick a favorite it is the L'Artisan. The first try was the charm, Olivia.

When I reviewed the Imaginary Authors scents back in 2016, Yesterday's Haze was one of my favorites and you can read the review here. In my original review I wrote about the warmth of the tonka and the delicious figgy vanilla cream. This time, though, I smell just a hint of smoke and woods, like a campfire smoldering near a fig orchard. The smoke smells very organic and it mingles with the slight sweetness of the fig. The Imaginary Authors website lists playful notes of walnut bitters and orchard dust, so perhaps it is the "hazy" notes which create this sense of smoke or dust for me. The greenness of the fig--the twigs, leaves and branches-- are emphasized over the sweetness of the fig in this scent. I am finding this less gourmand than I did three years ago. Can aging skin account for these changes? In any case, I liked it in 2016 and I like it in 2019.



Lothair by Penhaligon's London is a part of the Trade Routes perfume series and is meant to "evoke the tea clipper ships that navigated the globe to bring exotic treasures to Britain's shores." Opening notes are cardamom, grapefruit, juniper, and fig leaf, with heart notes of fig milk, lavender, magnolia, and black tea. Notes of wood, vanilla, and musk round out the base so it is obviously not a fig dominant scent, however the fig note is significant enough to include Lothair in this review. Lothair's opening is dry and spicy and one can picture sailors hauling big wooden trunks on board, fragrant with the scent of cardamom and other spices. Their is the salty tang of sea air and I can almost hear the waves beating against the boat's wooden hull. A whiff of black tea leaves comes from the bulging burlap bags. The fig leaf and fig milk add a slightly gourmand touch to the scent. English tea with cream anyone? This scent has a story to tell and it takes it's time unfolding. Towards the end of the scent life I get a mixture of spice and nuts that is addictive to me, almost like a warm grain cereal seasoned with spice and warm milk and sugar. This scent has a masculine vibe but I love to wear it for it's yum factor. Bertrand Duchaufour is the perfumer.

Detail of lotus painting from Jaipur City Palace, India.

Duchaufour is also responsible for the next perfume I want to discuss, Neela Vermeire Ashoka. The journey of Ashoka is meant to reflect the evolution of the Indian emperor from a ruthless conqueror to a benevolent ruler after his conversion to the Buddha's peaceful teachings. The scent starts with a fierce opening and softens into a floral heart. My own reflections when I spray this scent are Holy Fig! It's that beautiful to me and it is interesting that my mind went there, as Ashoka was a man transformed by his religion.

First are watery notes of lotus, hyacinth and fig leaf which make me think of the lotus dappled water surrounding the floating palace in Udaipur (or they were thirty years ago when I was there on my one year wedding anniversary). There is a thread of scent in this opening that takes me immediately back to the scents of India, garnered from the four years I lived there. I can't describe it to you but my brain recognizes the smell immediately and all I can say is that Duchaufour did his homework. Then creamy sandalwood mixes with milky fig for a swoony comforting and slightly sweet gourmand. In addition to the sandalwood there is a slender trail of incense rising. This is not strong; picture walking past a single burning incense stick with a faint but lingering smell. My perception of this note could be coming from any of these notes: fir balsam, myrrh, ambre gris, birch, Haitian vetiver, or styrax. Ashoka is absolutely gorgeous for the first hour but unfortunately after that the scent weakens considerably on my skin. If I could maintain that beautiful creamy opening of the fig mixed with the sandalwood/temple vibe I would be bathing in this stuff.

L'Artisan Caligna  was made to represent the clary sage fields surrounding Grasse and is an aromatic perfume. In the L'Artisan copy they speak of a jasmine marmalade note which had me super excited when I read it, but which I unfortunately never experience. The scent opens with a note of young fresh green fig. I smell the branches and leaves of the fig tree and the scent that pops into the air in that moment a fruit is plucked from the branches. This is a little more herbal than some of the fig scents I tried. It is innocent and light, and in my case, too light. It just doesn't have the appeal for me of it's sister scent, Premier Figuier, but if you aren't sure about wearing the fig note in perfume this could be a good introduction to the category.

The view from Villa Kerylos, Beaulieu-sur-Mer, France, Cote-de-Azur.

Jardins de Kerylos by Parfumerie Generale references a villa built in the Greek style that sits on the tip of the Beaulieu-sur-Mer peninsula, surely some of the most hallowed real estate in the world. Pierre Guillaume of Perfumerie Generale is French, and although I see fig in perfume as a more earthy and rustic note, this perfume has just a touch of that French fairy dust that makes you think "perfume" and not "fig jam".  The perfume opens brightly, a shaft of sunlight through the dense leaves of the fig tree.The fig note is a bit more muddled but does provide the customary earthiness and fresh fruit gourmand goodness. If you want your fig perfume to be a touch more sophisticated, Jardins de Kerylos could be one to try. A note of sycamore helps keep it dry and woody, and the perfume accentuates the green and woody aspects of fig. Guillaume describes this as luminous and it is so. Fig can be an earthy note but in this perfume it floats. Also to note, I can smell an impression of water, perhaps from this view of the villa.

Heeley Figuier opens with green fig and a touch of coconut. There is a touch of that aquatic note that makes some people smell pickle juice, but I only get the occasional whiff of that and it's not off-putting. The big opening fades quickly on my skin and then the aquatic/pickle smell is more noticeable. If you are sensitive to that note you may not appreciate this perfume. I think it might be discontinued as I am not finding a readily available link to buy.

www.BegonaMorton.com

Au Pays de la Fleur d'Oranger Figue Fruitee is the first scent that I've tried from the Au Pays line (I refuse to type the long name again) that I didn't fall for. It's not that I dislike it but it leaves me underwhelmed. Everything is very muted. The fig isn't really green and is not that fruity. It is a well mannered scent but rather forgettable. I would describe it as fig perfume at 50%. A leather note makes it dry as old boots.

Lubin Figaro is inspired by the Figaro trilogy of comedy plays written by Beaumarchais in 1778 (not a particularly funny time in France, the French Revolution would follow the next year). Figaro's opening is slightly alcoholic to me, but then a note of vetiver enters, grassy, dry and hay-like. This is a masculine scent and although there is a note of fig hiding amongst the vetiver, it certainly isn't prominent. This scent smells like a ride in a horse-drawn cart down a rustic country lane one hundred years ago, the fields lined with hay and in the distance there is a small fig orchard. This scent is dry and dusty.

DSH Perfumes Figue Interdite is a part of the Les Fruits Defendus, vol. 1 line that Dawn Spencer Hurwitz introduced last summer as light weight colognes for hot summer weather. This perfume is 100%  botanical and you can sense this when you smell, or maybe it's what you don't smell...any trace of chemical or synthetic scent. The scent is fresh and pure and totally natural. It is somewhat green, somewhat juicy, but not overloaded with either, just as you would find a fig tree in nature. At the beginning I smell flashes of an herbal, tobacco-like scent. It's very faint and maybe it is the ambrette seed or the vetiver that I am smelling. Although on the surface it would seem to be a simple perfume, like most of Dawn's creations it has a host of ingredients: balsam fir, costus, orris concrete, Mysore sandalwood, Texas cedarwood, jasmine, linden blossom, mimosa....the list goes on and on but you get the idea. Somehow she magically puts these diverse ingredients together and comes up with...fig, and a beautiful fig it is. Like most botanicals on  my skin, longevity is not astounding but that's the trade off. It is a watercolor wash of fresh fig with a beautiful woody skin scent dry down. Love!

www.ful-filled.com

Profumum Roma Ichnusa is green, green, green and in my world, this is a good thing. It's subtle, not a big sillage blaster. It is the green of the fig leaf, the actual fruit of the fig is downplayed here, and the green is like forging through a dense tropical jungle of green leaves. There is a touch of fragrant earth and the fresh aspect of the fig plant. Looking at the listed notes: myrtle, grass, hay, fig leak and fig tree wood, it is no surprise that the perfume feels green. I read that it is a salute to the coastline of Sardinia.

Carthusia Io has been around since 2000 and the perfumer is Laura Bosetti Tonatto. It starts off with a slightly bitter herbal note, not an unpleasant bitter smell but it is bone dry. Beneath this there is a note that reminds me of ocean water with only the slightest tang of salty air. Eucalyptus and mint in the top notes are refreshing and cooling. Anise adds a touch of spice, balanced by calm notes of tea and mint. This feels fresh and bracing, and like one of those scents that would cool you off on a hot day. The fig is dry and green. Very likable.

Don't let me forget Hermes Un Jardin en Mediterranee. This iconic scent by Jean Claude Ellena seems like it's been around forever (it was 2003) but because you see it everywhere I think it can be underrated. This is my favorite of all the Jardin series by Hermes. Jean Claude Ellena said about it, "An expression in perfume of a Mediterranean memory, a mosaic of olfactory, visual, and tactile sensations." From its watercolor wash of citrus note openings to the wood notes of cypress and cedar, it is the fig leaf that has the most distinctive presence. The notes sound simple but this is Jean Claude Ellena we're talking about, one of The Masters, and it is perfection. For some reason I had never taken this on beach vacations but this year I took it to Australia and wore it for my walks along the beach. Mama, Mia! I smell the salt of the water as if the crystals are drying on my skin and in my hair! I only get that salty aspect with the addition of some good old ocean breeze.

Now for something a little more gourmand, Les Senteurs Gourmandes Figue Sauvage  by Laurence Dumont, France. This is a flowery fruity fig with gourmand aspects. If you like fruity florals this is safe territory and you will recognize the dark sweet fruits mixed with ylang ylang and other floral notes as similar to that deep sweet richness found in other perfumes of this type.

Two fresh and light fig scents that I've written about before are Roger & Gallet Fleur De Figuier and Feuille De Figuier. I bought these when I was in France last year and they are pretty inexpensive but refreshing and lovely scents that I've enjoyed wearing. Fleur De Figuier is slightly sweet and Feuille De Figuier is the more green fig leaf. Both are fun, "don't think about it, just spray", type scents. You can read a detailed review here.

Here's one you can treasure hunt for, Miller Harris Figue Amere. It is discontinued but it used to be readily available at places like Fragrancenet.com. I see that is it not, now, but it is still on Amazon. This is a different fig scent; for one thing there appears to be no fig in the ingredients. It manages to juggle fresh and realistic nature smells but at the same time have an Oriental perfume formality. Notes include angelica, balsam fir, violet leaf, narcissus, rose, amber; no mention of even a fig leaf, though. It is like a Picasso, the painting is a woman who doesn't look quite like the woman but you get the idea. Same here. It is not exactly fig but it captures the green bitterness of the leaves and twigs and there is a fruity sweetness underneath it all that resembles fig. More than the other scents I've listed here, this is a fig in high heels and a black dress, or for a man, in a tux and tie. This is one of the few scents in my life that I finished the whole bottle. Why I didn't buy another when it was so available....well, we all have those stories.


Let's look at some really green figs by Rouge Bunny Rouge. They do a couple of interesting scents using fig leaf. Let's first look at Lilt, an unusual scent of green fig leaves mixed with peach. Violet, which to me feels more like violet leaf, softens and sweetens. Later in the scent vetiver and musk make it slightly smokey and moodier. The scent is meant to represent sunlight and shade in a garden which has been pelted with rain. There is a light transparency at the beginning of the fragrance which later morphs into a darker calm. It feels like peach fuzz amidst a green tangle of foliage.

Incantation also uses fig leaf but its opening notes give a totally different experience. Rather than soft sweetness, it is very green and fresh. In fact it is so green that the random thought popped into my head that this is the perfect scent to wear on St. Patrick's Day! It achieves this with top notes of citrus accord, blackcurrant, fig leaf, and green tea. The blackcurrant is pretty tame here, more green than juicy berry. A hint of the spice notes of cardamom and coriander pop in an rose and orange blossom add a tiny bit of floral softness. I still smell the green aspects more than anything. Base notes of vetiver, cedarwood, beeswax, and musk round out the scent. Of the two scents I prefer the green vibrancy and fun of Incantation over Lilt, which starts out great on my skin but ends up a bit muddled and indistinct. Incantation feels darker and a little more mysterious.

 Giovanni Stanchi 1645

You may wonder if any of the perfumes I tried actually reminded me of my beloved Fig Gin? The closest would be Byredo Pulp. On the Byredo website it is described as "a shapeless mass of ripe fruits; unruly and sweet juices that channel flavor bombing". Yep, it's all that. Pulp opens with a stringent note that I took for grapefruit but must be the bergamot. I don't think the opening of a perfume has ever given me such surprise since I smelled Bat by Zoologist Perfumes. Pulp is such a great name because it does smell like the fleshy part of the fruit has been ripped from the rind, maybe a couple of days ago and is in that stage between succulent juiciness and rot. Akin to how jasmine can dance a fine line of being breathtakingly delicate or a fecal shock, this fruit teeters on the edge of succulence and malodorous mess. But it constantly makes me bring my wrist to my nose for another sniff, just like when I'm wearing Bat. Although the fruit here comes across to me as more plum than fig, fig is one of the elements in the melange we have here.

Find recipe at www.The-broken-bread.com

How could I finish a post on fig scents without mentioning Mugler Womanity? I wrote a whole post about it here in great and glorious detail. When I mentioned that the crunchy density of the fig in Womanity reminded me of the figgy pudding we used to eat in Scotland, some readers commented that they wear Womanity in summer as a beach scent for the caviar salty aspect of the scent. I can see that, and now it has become a year round scent for me. It's a mind bender; some love it, others hate it, but it definitely goes where no fig perfume has gone before.

What are your favorite fig perfumes. Have I missed them here? If so, please let me know.



Top photo from www.deviantart.com. All samples my own.

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Travels In France, Part One: Everything Is Lavender

Looking down on lavender field from town of Sault, France

When I envisioned visiting Provence during lavender season I pictured myself walking down military straight rows of blueish purple stalks, breathing in air so calming as to induce a state of somnambulance. The effect would be so strong I would struggle to resist dropping into the crunchy stalks, curling my body into the fragrant clumps and drifting off to sleep like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, overcome in the field of poppies  I would bury my face in large bundles of lavender to inhale the deep calming scent. There would be patchwork quilt fields of lavender and green, spreading as far as the eye could see.

We traveled in the first two weeks of July, picked as a time to avoid some of the larger tourist crowds but still be able to see the lavender blooming. The sight was as beautiful as I had imagined but what did surprise me as I stood beside a sea of lavender was the smell. I had expected to be enveloped in scent as if I was in a huge, outdoor spa, but the reality was that the scent was subtle. It wasn't until I actually plucked a bud from the top of a lavender spike that I got my wish. As I crushed the tiny fragrant balls that make up the gorgeous blue stalks these few tiny buds created a trail of strong scent as if I had uncorked some genie bottle and released a magical elixir. I suspect that later in the growing season, late July and early August when the lavender is almost ready to harvest, the scent may have been stronger. Nevertheless, it was one of the most beautiful places I've ever experienced and it was worth the trade off to have the view relatively to ourselves.

Fulfilling my wish to be knee-deep in lavender.

The first lavender field I spotted was off the side of the A6, as my husband and I neared the end of our long drive from Charles De Gaulle Airport to our first stop in Orange. It was only one small patch but engendered an ecstatic reaction from me. We were approaching the heart of lavender country and after a couple of days viewing historical Roman ruins around Orange, we drove east toward the Luberon. This area of Southern France is sprinkled with ancient hilltop villages, each more charming than the next, and the drive is often punctuated with an unexpected lavender field as you round a bend. One village that seems to be the epicenter of all this lavender activity is Sault.

This is the part of France we located ourselves in to view lavender. Sault is in the middle of the map.

We were staying in a charming medieval town called Vaison-la-Romaine and we traveled south to Mt. Ventoux, a high peak with fantastic 360 degree views. On a clear day you can supposedly see the Swiss Alps in one direction and the Mediterranean Sea in the other. It is on every serious bicyclists bucket list, and we passed many with bulging quads struggling up the mountain, then later flying down the other side. This route's inclusion in the Tour-de-France has granted it some renown. After viewing as much as we could see on a cloudy day, we made our way south to the little town of Sault.


A lavender shop in Sault.

Sault sits atop a ridge and the cooler climate is ideal for growing lavender. The town consists of two long streets, anchored by a restaurant offering a scenic view of the lavender fields below. Every other shop is selling lavender or confectioneries. Lavender oils, lavender soaps, lavender sachets, lavender honey and bundles of fresh lavender adorn the shelves of local shops.


Just a kilometer outside the town is one of the area's most charming and rustic lavender distilleries, Aroma Plantes Distillerie. These distilleries, some small family-owned affairs and others larger and more commercial, are scattered throughout the lavender producing region. I am not going to give a long explanation of the distillation process, but steam distillation is preferred for producing high quality lavender oil. Later we visited another distillery, Les Agnels, near the town of Buoux. Here is a distillation vat, waiting to be loaded with the lavender.


Here is a drawing of the steam distillation process. The fine oil eventually comes out the top and the water and oil collected from below is used in hydrosols.


www.pranarom.com

There are different grades of lavender. The highest quality is lavandula angustifolia, commonly referred to as English lavender. This produces aromatherapy grade oils which have many therapeutic uses, and these plants produce less oil than some other grades of lavender, thus it is more expensive. Its habitat is higher, cooler climates and it is different from other lavenders and that it contains no camphor, thus having a particularly sweet smell.

Lavender gifts for sale in a Sault shop.

Spike lavender (lavandula latifolia) is mainly grown in France and Spain for essential oil uses. It is grown at lower altitudes and produces much more oil at distillation. It contains the highest percentage of camphor and thus can smell slightly medicinal or antiseptic.


Lavandin is a hybrid produced by combing the two lavender varieties above. It is highly scented but produces a greater amount of oil, thus it is widely cultivated by lavender growers. It is commonly used to scent soaps, cleaning products, face products, and perfumery. It also contains camphor.

Lavender's use dates back 2000 years. It was used by the Egyptians, Romans, and Greeks. They valued it for medicinal purposes, as well as using it to scent the body and to scent bathing water. During the Renaissance it gained popularity as an antidote to battle the plague. Lavender has some insect repellent properties, and the fleas on rats are what caused the infestation. English royalty advanced the popularity of lavender during the Victorian era. Queen Victoria had lavender scattered around the castle floors so that the scent was released as it was stepped on. This is where the association of lavender with cleanliness and purity began.

I wore several different lavender perfumes when I was in Provence. I appreciate the addition of lavender to more complex perfumes to amp up the deepness and richness, but here I am going to concentrate on perfumes that are mainly all about the lavender note, if not quite soliflores.

Taken in a shop in Aix-en-Provence.

I'll start with some lavender perfumes that emphasize the herbal aspects of the plant. I think naturals are often better at catching these nuances so most of these are natural perfumes.

Phoenix Botanicals Lavender Noir starts with a blast of pure lavender but quickly morphs into a smokey lavender tinged perfume. It feels rustic, like a trip to the country. Picture yourself in an old stone cabin surrounded by forest. It's cold and you need to get the fire glowing. You throw a bundle of dried lavender into the fire and for a few moments the lavender mingles with the  smoke creating a fragrant aroma.

Later the smoke dissipates and there is a smattering of gentle wildflowers, but lavender still takes the lead, as she can't help being a bit of a diva. The lavender is rich and feels complex. This perfume imparts a feeling of calm and serenity in me.

On the Phoenix Botanical website it's stated that the perfume is inspired "by harvesting the flowers, burning freshly dried lavender spikes for incense, and late summer naps on the forest floor." Notes include bergamot, lavender, wildflower petals, tonka, smoke, mushrooms, and oakmoss.

Irina Adams describes herself as artist, herbalist, forager, and natural perfumer and she is the creative behind Phoenix Botanicals, which she founded in 2007. Everything in the shop is made by hand and is 100% natural and organically sourced. Irina espouses the beauty and healing property of plants.

Ajne deLavande is another natural perfume from a perfumery based in Carmel, California. Ajne deLanande at first spray is the most delicious herbal lavender. It's like falling headfirst into a row of ready-to-harvest lavender. It is deep and luxuriant and has a little of that r e l a x a t i o n quotient that lavender is known for. If this were a color it would be the deepest of blues.

The perfume presentation is in ornate bottles which makes these perfumes feel like a real treasure in your hands.  The perfumer's inspiration was actually the lavender fields of Provence.This perfume has herbal characteristics but this is softened by the use of sweeter notes. Vanilla, almond tree, and powdery notes are used to make the lavender not too strident or overbearing. The lavender oils come from France, Bulgaria, and Carmel and like many of these perfumes, you can smell the high quality of the lavender oils used in the composition.


Roxana Illuminated Perfumes Vera was for many years my holy grail lavender scent. I still have a little perfume left in the tin of solid perfume I bought probably eight years ago. I remember I had a small vial of the liquid version of Vera which was a gorgeous elixir but it was ultimately the solid version which I purchased, after sampling both. Even after all this time this is potent and application of this solid perfume brings about an almost instant "ahhhh" of relaxation and engenders a sense of quietness in me. This is the most herbal of all the lavenders I have listed here, and the white sage mixes beautifully with the lavender. I can only imagine what a new fresh Vera would smell like.

Since I last dove into Roxana's world she's made some major changes. She's moved from her magical  abode near Ojai in California, where she grew herbs and tended bees whose honey she harvested to make her potions, to a new inspiring location near Santa Fe, New Mexico. She and her artist husband Greg Spalenka are wonderfully creative, and to me Roxana has always seemed like some sort of delicate woodland sprite, spinning beauty from whatever she touches. Her packaging is the most exquisite I've ever received and a bee is her symbol which she uses as a wax sealed decorative touch on her packages and samples. I am sure these new surroundings will inspire creative ventures and I can't wait to see what develops. Meanwhile, hopefully, Vera hasn't changed at all, because frankly, it is perfect.

Botany's Daughter by Gather Perfume is sold on the Etsy site which is full of handcrafted and homemade goods. This lavender perfume has a different slant than the one's above with it's addition of linden for a honeyed note. The addition of cardomom and nutmeg, just a touch, add a dry spice note and bergamot gives a slight citrus effect. The perfumer says this smells like a Provencal countryside. For those who find lavender too sharp or pungent, you will find that this lavender has been softened without adding any sweet notes. It is very wearable and pretty.

A lavender field near Sault, France.

Rania J Lavande 44 is seemingly a lavender in the classic fougere tradition, but this is Rania J, after all and she brings an Eastern influence to a very traditional Western scent family. Lavande 44 opens with notes of petitgrain, bergamot, and lavender. As she has with her other perfumes I've tried, Cuir Andalou reviewed here and Jasmine Kama reviewed here, this Eastern influence from Rania's early years spent in the Middle East and Africa adds an unexplored facet. As Lavande 44 develops on my skin it becomes more hypnotic which is probably the labdanum, because in my opinion a little labdanum makes everything better. There is also just a whisper of oud, not always apparent, so if like me this is a note that doesn't always work for you, don't be put off. It is a delicate touch and only pops up from time to time. If you would like a similar lavender perfume, minus the Eastern twist, Histoires de Parfum Casanova reviewed here is worthy of attention.

Moving away from herbal lavenders, let's talk about MEM by Bogue Profumo. The first time I sampled this perfume I hated it. The second time I loved it. Look up the reviews; Kafkaesque blog discusses it in far more detail than I have time for here, but the reviews are all over the place. Looking at the list of notes: petitgrain, mandarin, grapefruit, four different lavenders, ylang ylang, lily of the valley, champaca, jasmine, rose, geranium, peppermint, laurel, vanilla, benzoin, rosewood, sandalwood, cedarwood, ambergris, labdanum, musk, amber, and most importantly catoreum and civet; one might ask, is this even a lavender perfume? It is certainly not a soliflore...obviously...but for me the lavender is the defining note throughout. There is a moment at the beginning when the civet and castoreum, supposedly base notes yet here they are in the first five minutes, take me on a wild ride that I'm not sure I'll safely survive. These notes, along with the champaca, jasmine, rosewood, benzoin, and others bring to mind my beloved perfumes that make me think of my years in India. They are always over the top, they push boundaries, and they border on being feral. Yet they somehow capture the exuberance, color, and vividness of life in this amazing country. I have never seen lavender used in an "Indian perfume", and let me make clear that this was not the perfumer's vision, it's just how it strikes me. It's as if the Indian subcontinent is in its DNA. After the animal notes die down I begin to smell the many other notes, sort of like a talent show with multiple acts, but throughout it is the lavender that sings to me. In no circumstances should you blind buy this perfume! It has a big personality.

Vero Profumo Kiki Eau de Parfum is another lavender perfume with an odd twist. It was introduced in 2010 as an offshoot from the Kiki Parfum Extrait from 2007. This perfume was created as an homage to Man Ray's muse and model, Kiki de Montparnasse and in the eau de parfum, a surprising blast of passion fruit is a surreal and unexpected addition to lavender, which is considered a traditional scent by most, and stodgy by some. The passion fruit is juicy and very identifiable and for a moment overtakes what can be the strong scent of lavender. The addition of caramel and musk turn this into a slightly sweet but not overly gourmand as the fragrance takes shape and blooms. The passion fruit note lasts about as long as if you cut into the fruit and ate it, not long, but it adds an interesting aura while it lasts. I haven't tried the parfum extrait, which has fruit notes, but not passion fruit. Those who find straight up lavender a bit boring may prefer this but I'm a bit of a purist and while nice, it's not my preferred lavender scent.

Google image.

Serge Lutens Gris Clair is perhaps a lavender that even non-lavender lovers could appreciate. It's name translates to light grey, and subtlety is its fingerprint. It starts out with the chill of fragrant greenish lavender. There is a tiny bit of incense, but for me this smells more like smoke from a very distant campfire. Eventually notes of iris and tonka bean come into play, and the tonka bean really sweetens and tames the lavender. Though slightly sweet it in no way approaches gourmand. The scent matches its namesake; light grey rather than vibrant purple. Everything about it is buffed and softened so as not to call attention to the scent, but rather to drape the body in a soft cashmere wrap of scent.

Serge Lutens Encens et Lavande was introduced in 1996, a full ten years before Gris Clair and has always been a Paris exclusive. It's composition is simple; lavender and incense. The lavender is life like and honeyed. The incense speaks of cold stones in majestic buildings and curls of light incense rising to vaulted heights. The two notes seemed used in equal parts so that neither dominates and each subdues the other. It is not complex but I prefer it's simplicity above the slightly sweeter Gris Clair. The perfume reminds me of this photo I took of Abbey de Senaque near the beautiful hilltop town of Gault. The Abbey which was originally founded in 1148 is one of the most visited and photographed sites in the lavender region and there were a couple of tour buses when we were there, everyone vying for that perfect lavender photo opp. The purple lavender and the cool stones of the Abbey perfectly illustrate Encens et Lavande.




Penhaligon's Lavandula starts with that medicinal  lavender smell which I actually find quite bracing and refreshing. Green basil and black pepper accent the herbal aspects of the lavender. This perfume doesn't go for the rich depth of the scent, but centers around the more sharp aromatic aspects. Penhaligon's claims to use lavender from the Lavandula area of France which is 1000 feet elevation and the lavender is supposed to be highly fragrant due to the cooler climate. I sometimes get a slight soapiness from this but it doesn't detract from the aroma of the lavender.

I could go on and on, there are so many lavender perfumes, but to me these lavenders are a good representation of what I saw and smelled in Provence. What are your favorite lavender-centric perfumes?

For Part Two go here. Click on these for Part Three, Part FourPart FivePart SixPart Seven Part Eight

All photos my own unless noted. All perfumes my own.

Sunday, November 5, 2017

Guy Fawkes Bonfire Night and Penhaligon's Elixir


I was living in Scotland in 1997 in a little village called Banchory just outside of Aberdeen. For an American who loved history, castles, and beautiful scenery it was heaven. My husband and I eagerly embraced village life and tried to introduce our young children to as much of the local lore as possible, knowing this idyllic period couldn't last forever. When we heard there would be a big bonfire in the town square we were all in, having no idea this celebration in the UK every November 5th was based on the foiled attempt by Guy Fawkes and his compatriots to blow up King James I in the Palace of Westminster in 1605 in the continuous struggle between Catholic and Protestants. The anniversary date is celebrated every year with a huge bonfire into which an effigy of Guy Fawkes is thrown.

I went to the town center with my three youngsters expecting to see a modest pile of logs but instead there was a stack of wood, boards, even the odd chair in a pile that reached fifteen feet high and about one hundred feet wide. On top was the stuffed Guy. Someone lit the pile and in an incredibly short time the whole structure was a huge conflagration. I was awed but at the same time a little terrified as no one seemed to be in charge of this potential disaster. I clearly remember watching a shower of sparks fly over a mother wheeling a baby carriage way to close to the fire, oblivious to what was over her head.

Flash forward ten plus years. I was sniffing a new perfume by the very British Penhaligon's called Elixir. With the first whiff I was brought back to the bonfire night. I had smelled smoky scents before but something about this one reminded me of that autumn night in a beautiful little town on the banks of the River Dee. The perfume was introduced in 2008 and the perfumer is Olivia Giacobetti. The listed top notes are eucalyptus, cinnamon, and cardomom but I smell smoke, albeit a very fragrant smoke. The initial smell is all bonfire, then the eucalyptus comes in. This smoky stage lasts quite some time but eventually the floral notes of rose, orange blossom, and jasmine join in but on my skin the rose is the most prevalent.  The base features benzoin, incense, and wood. The overall effect is of a cozy fire in the fireplace with spiced wine and fresh branches of fragrant eucalyptus in a nearby urn.

It is always cool when a fragrance associates with a memory. Elixir is not a scent I can wear anytime if year, but in fall or winter it's grand and the closer it gets to Christmas the better this one smells. Something about it's notes speaks to me of the holiday season.

Photos Google image. Perfume sample my own.

Monday, June 26, 2017

Penhaligon's Savoy Steam


Savoy Steam by Penhaligon's  is a new introduction to the line, debuting in 2017 in both eau de parfum and eau de cologne strengths. The perfumer is Juliette Karagueuzoglou.  Penhaligon's is the epitome of British scent, at least in the historical sense. With this in mind it makes sense that they paired with one of London's most venerable hotels, The Savoy. The Savoy was opened in 1889 to immediate acclaim. It was the first London hotel to have electric lighting and an elevator ascending to the upper floors. Most impressive to its guests was the addition of private en suite bathrooms and tubs that filled with a cascading flow of always hot water.

Hammam Bouquet debuted in 1872 and was Penhaligon's first scent. It referenced the Turkish style of baths and the hammam experience. Savoy Steam has a more British modern take on the bath, conjuring deep claw-footed porcelain tubs with gleaming chrome faucets, sitting atop marble floors worn glass smooth by decades of wear.

This is an aromatic perfume and Penhaligon's website describes it as "a steam mist of roses" featuring head notes of rosemary oil and pink pepper, heart notes of steamed rose and geranium, and base notes of benzoin and incense. This perfume is very light and airy on my skin, further emphasizing the "steam" concept. I don't know how perfumers make this happen but it actually does initially smell like steam! I smell the rosemary in the opening and it is joined to a lesser degree by eucalyptus notes. The pink pepper note is mild. The rose steam presents itself fairly quickly but the rose scent is very pale and watered down. I smell the floral note but if I didn't already know it was rose it would have taken me some time to identify it as such. The rose softens the herbal notes. You get that impression of a steam iron on crisp fabric or of walking into a faintly aromatic steam bath. Occasionally I get a whiff of steamed rice but it's fleeting. I find this to be a very neutral perfume. It's not exactly herbal; it's not really rose. It smells clean and bracing. I would enjoy wearing this in the heat of summer or anytime I needed a pleasant pick-me-up but didn't want to broadcast scent. For such a quiet scent it is very tenacious. It lasts several hours but I felt like it emitted scent no more than about six inches from my skin.

The bottle is appealing. I like the readily identifiable Penhaligon's shape although I heard a rumor they may be changing the packaging. I hope not. Although this perfume venerates the Savoy luxury experience, the tie made out of blue and white fabric resembling a Turkish fouta gives a sly nod to the brand's hammam-scented heritage fragrance.

This perfume is fairly simple but I quite liked it. I didn't know when I sampled Savoy Steam that there was a cologne version so I am not able to make a comparison. However, as light as the perfume wears on me, I doubt I would find the cologne to have adequate sillage for the price point. Sometimes it's nice to have a perfume that doesn't project too much, doesn't lean floral or citrus or spicy, that just gives a happy mist of fragrant feng shui to the day. Savoy Steam could be this perfume for me and it has gone on my (very long) buy list.

Top photo from www.Penhaligons.com. Sample from Penhaligon's boutique, Singapore.

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Ballet Inspired Perfumes Part Two



In Part One of ballet inspired perfumes, scents to wear to the ballet and specifically in this festive season the Christmas performances of The Nutcracker, three perfumes from the Les Parfums de Rosine line were featured. In this post we will look at four more perfumes inspired by elements of the ballet.

Keiko Mecheri Lady Pointe opens with one of the most distinct blackcurrant notes I have ever smelled in a perfume. It is uplifting and very fruity but not at all sweet. There is a touch of citrus in the opening but the rose comes in to mingle with the blackcurrant note fairly quickly. There are also notes of orchid, suede and musk, but what I am mostly noticing is a grape- jammy rose. In the final stages of wear notes of tonka bean, incense, oakmoss, patchouli, and sandalwood combine with the rose to render a darker air to the perfume. I particularly notice the tonka bean which gives a slightly powdery gourmand note, once the intensity of the intoxicating black currant and rose notes have dissipated. Lady Pointe conjures images of red ballet shoes and purple-skinned black currants. This perfume is rich, dark and unexpectedly fun.



With Penhaligon's Iris Prima we move away from the rose-based ballerina perfumes and on to iris. Iris can be an austere, proper note which perhaps suits the theme of ballet dancers and the endless hours of practice and fierce dedication required to make a mark in the profession. The iris starts off very similarly to Prada Infusion d'Iris on my skin. I get the quiet, grey iris note and the starched smell that often accompanies iris perfumes. There is a touch of pink pepper in the opening which gives it an initial ping but that quickly disappears. The perfume also has notes of leather, sandalwood, vetiver, amber, vanilla and benzoin. I smell the iris with the softest touch of leather. The leather is a super soft and pliable note and it is an easy comparison to imagine it the the well worn leather of the ballet slipper that we are smelling. For me this wears like a winter companion to the Prada Iris, the leather note providing a darker hue to the usually light iris note.



Strange Invisible Perfumes Prima Ballerina has a very different take from the perfumes featured thus far. For one thing, it does not feature a leather or suede note to indicate the ballet toe shoes. Also, there is no sandalwood, a nod to the wooden stage and practice studios, that features in the previous entries. This interpretation is an aromatic perfume featuring the rose note. Strange Invisible Perfumes is one of the early originators of botanical perfumes and based in California. This scent opens with a lime note which gives the very pretty and true rose note a citrus lift. It also has notes of sage which give a light herbal quality to the naturalness of the perfume. I would say that this perfumer is not trying to draw a hyper realistic scent picture of the ballet performance including elements of wood, leather and sweat, but is instead trying to relay a portrait of the romance of the ballet and the beauty of the ballerina dancer. I find this scent to be very feminine.

The final perfume inspired by the ballet is Amrita Aromatics Vaganova: a Bittersweet Ballet Floral Botanical Perfume. It features notes of ginger, rosewood, tuberose, sandalwood, cedar, rosin, and satin; altogether a most romantic list of ballet inspired notes. Even if I had blind tested this, I would have guessed it is a natural perfume. It has that bright organic presence that naturals often show. Ananda Wilson says about her perfumes, "Know that when you purchase a natural perfume, it is an intimate engagement in the wild natural world and will not offer the predictable, cloying, or forceful type of experience that commercial perfumes often do." My experience wearing this perfume: I smell the opening brightness of the ginger. Woody notes of rosewood, sandalwood, and cedar give a nod to the scuffed practice floor, and there really is a dustiness that gives the aura of the rosin that the dancers dust their ballet shoes with to prevent slipping. The tuberose note never becomes apparent to me. And although I didn't confirm this with the perfumer, I am assuming the perfume's name is taken from the renowened Vaganova Choreographic Institute in Leningrad, the highly competitive school for the Kirov Ballet. This perfume was beautiful and very personal; like many naturals it wears close to the skin and longevity was about three hours.

Are there any other ballet inspired perfumes that you wear?

Nutcracker Ballet photos from George Balanchine's New York Ballet production. Red ballet slippers photo from Pinterest. Samples are my own collection.

Saturday, April 30, 2016

Happy May Day! Mini Reviews of Five Muguet Perfumes

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May Day originated in Northern Europe as a celebration to welcome summer and the growing season and was associated with Flora, the Roman goddess of flowers. As Europe became predominantly Christian the holiday lost its pagan associations and became a more secular celebration. The maypole is one tradition commonly linked to the holiday, but a charming custom for those of us that love perfume is the offering of muguet, or lily of the valley, on May 1. The custom dates back to 1561 when King Charles IX of France was given a sprig of lily of the valley for good luck. The King continued this tradition in the following years by offering the flower to the ladies of his court on May Day. The tradition was reinterpreted in the early 20th century, and the giving of posies of lily of the valley or other spring flowers, often as a secret gift, became a way to show appreciation or admiration.

If I could script my life on my terms I would now be reviewing my bottle of the new Guerlain Muguet May 1st introduction for 2016. Look at this beautiful bottle. I've lusted after each and every one for the past few years but this one is quite different. A jewelry store created a silver filigree design of lily of the valley to mark the ten year anniversary of the Guerlain May 1st limited edition bottles. There are only 2148 exclusive bottles (I'd love to know the significance of that number?).  But unfortunately I do not have any of this juice so I will review what my local Singapore department stores had available for my perusal. 

Annick Goutal Le Muguet 

This starts with a very green lily of the valley note. It is pretty representation of the flower but it doesn't last long on my skin. It changes and becomes a little sour on me and sometimes has a plastic smell. It fades rather quickly. This is a fail on my skin.

Christian Dior Diorissimo

I remember spraying this on in the 1980's when I was first becoming interested in perfume, and the world literally stood still for a moment...it was that gorgeous. I know a lot of bloggers have written excellently researched pieces about what changed and why it did. And it's not that Diorissimo is bad. It's a good representation of a lovely lily of the valley, and after a harsh opening which quickly disapates, I like it. It's just not the masterpiece I remember and I find that hard to forgive.

Crabtree & Evelyn Lily 

Umm, where's the lily?

Penhaligon's Lily of the Valley

This was nice, if unremarkable. It smells like lily of the valley and it was pretty tenacious on my skin. I found it prettier than most I tried, but I'm beginning to think that muguet is just not for me.

Muguet En Fleurs Yves Rocher

This is a very light spring sprinkling of lily of the valley. It's transparency is part of it's delicate charm. It is very light and disappears very quickly but it's cheap as chips and Yves Rocher is constantly having sales. If I can't have my $600-plus bottle of Guerlain Muguet Limited Edition 2016, I'm thinking this one might suit me just find. It doesn't last long but I can in good conscience shower my body with a spray every hour or so. It's a simple, uncomplicated green lily of the valley scent.

I think you can't fight your body chemistry and I believe lily of the valley may not be my note so you may have happier results with these perfumes. As for me, I think I would rather be gifted on May Day with a bundle of real live lily of the valley!

Top photo from Google. Bottle of Guerlain Muguet from Guerlain.com.