Perfumes to Wear for Halloween

This weekend before Halloween is the traditional time to throw parties for those long past the age to go door to door for candy. Here is a look, all in fun, of what perfumes to wear for Halloween!

Vert de Fleur by Tom Ford

A green so dark it is almost black. Sinewy, bitter, and poisonous. Twisting, smothering green, pungent and sharp. An earthy and fierce opening, which fades to something tamer as time progresses. Notes: galbanum, iris, hyacinth, neroli, bergamot, basil, jasmine, vetiver, patchouli, oakmoss.

Vlad Dracul by Sixteen92

You are entering a forest. It is dark, dank, and misty. You smell the fir needles that have fallen to the path, padding it with a softness that muffles your footsteps, and maybe the footsteps of those watching from the shadows. The needles and leaves are rotting and decaying, moist from the rain on dark paths that never see sunlight in the depths of the forest. Suddenly you sense something, actually you smell it. It smells like disturbed earth, something ancient. A smell that attracts you at the same time it repels. It's too late. He's come for you. You fall in the depths of the verdant earth, that wet leaves, and the scent of the long dead. Notes: Carpathian fir needles, red cedar, black amber, black patchouli, scorched earth, blood musk.

Bat by Zoologist Perfumes

You are in a limestone cave, the wall oozing dampness and wet to your touch as you glide your hand along the surface to find your way in the dark. There is the smell of vegetation that clings to the walls, surviving on the filtered shards of sunlight that penetrate the depths of the cave in the lightest part of the day. Suddenly there is an animal smell mixed with leather. You can see nothing but you sense the movement of a hundred thousand tiny flapping wings as the bats rush past you for the nightly ritual of the hunt. Notes: soil tincture, fruit, fig, green notes, musk, leather, vetiver, sandalwood.

Oud Immortel by Byredo

They move among us and pass as human. But if you are still and mindful, you can know them by their scent. It is dry like the papyrus tomes in which their history is written. Just as the trees which make oud are infected with mold which over the course of time forms a seductive resin, so do these creatures turn a disease, life in perpetuity, into a temptation. They leave a trail of smoke, moss, and earthy patchouli. To tempt they carry the redolence of sweet tobacco fields and the lightness of lemon, but do not be taken in. Their wish is to turn you into one of them. Notes: limoncello, incense, cardomom, patchouli, papyrus, tobacco leaves, moss.

 Cuir et Champignon by DSH Perfumes

Deep in the forest hide the woodland sprites. They have magic ways. They can call to the animals and make them do their bidding, as they are part animal themselves. Have you ever walked through the forest and felt that there was something there, watching you silently? Perhaps it is the woodland sprite. They can disappear into tree trunks and blend into the background of the forest, it's their secret camouflage. The only way you may know they are around is the small white mushrooms they feast on in the dead of night, they need them to survive. Train your nose to smell the subtle earthiness of the little white mushrooms that grow in the dark loamy earth. They will smell of the woods of the forest, of the animals that rustle amongst them, of smoke, and of forest herbs like clary sage and wild chamomile. Notes: castoreum, civet, cedarwood, vetiver, leather, cepes, peru balsam, wild chamomile, bergamot, clary sage, galbanum.

Bull's Blood by Imaginary Authors

The first thing you smell as he comes for you, appearing from nowhere as a wraith is the cold, astringent, and metallic scent of blood. Then your mind whirls with images of dirt, an animalic miasma of fur and skin, and the incongruous note of a beautiful red rose. As you seem to fall and melt toward the earth you realize that the ringing smell of blood is your blood. Notes: Patchouli, rose, costus root, black musk, bull's blood

Encens en Lavande by Serge Lutens

The cold stone which has stood for one hundred years should feel safe and stable, but instead the mists lend an air of danger. Strangely there is the scent of incense from the ancient crypts of the church and a faint lingering note of lavender. Notes: Incense, lavender, iris, amber, wood notes.

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 Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven,  Part Eight

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

Celebrating Mother's Day With Iris: Serge Lutens Bas de Soie

This is a true story.

My memories of my paternal Grandmother who died when I was only seven are of a stern woman dressed in a plain housedress, hair in a loose bun, and orthopedic shoes that made her look much older than her years. Life had not been kind. She lost her husband when her oldest child, my father, was only six, leaving her with three children to care for. The Great Depression was literally at her doorstep. Times were hard everywhere and especially in a small Texas farming town. I remember her in sepia tones of grey and brown, not much color in  her simple life. But there was one glaring exception. Every spring colorful showy iris, which ran in a bed that stretched from her small boxy house all the way to the street, would burst forth in a variety of gorgeous colors. The iris were so delicate, almost sensuous in their beauty. How did this shadowy woman I remember come to love these exotic blooms?

When my Grandmother died my father dug up many of the bulbs and transplanted them in our back flower bed. My Grandmother's garden had iris of many colors, but when they bloomed in our backyard they were all purple. Every spring we would be treated to a showy display for about a month, a living reminder to my father of his mother.

Flash forward many, many years. My father had died about eight years before. I was living in Singapore and had just flown out of the country after wishing my Mother goodbye, saying "see you at Thanksgiving". I had barely unloaded my bags when I got the call that my Mother had a cerebral aneurysm and was dying.  I rushed back, hoping for a final moment, but she slipped away sometime when I was over the Pacific. My memories at the cemetery are hazy and Dickensian in nature: dark brooding skies, cold winds, black garb and somber faces. In retrospect I realized this had to be my imagination. It was September. I know I wore a sleeveless dress. Where did I get these images? However for eight years I had no desire to revisit the burial place.

When my sister and I were cleaning out my mother's house one of my sister's friends made a loving gesture. She went to my Mom's house and dug up some of these same iris bulbs that had come from my Grandmother's house forty years before and transplanted them in my yard. For years their green leaves looked healthy but I waited in vain every year for the purple blooms which never came.

Last year which was eight years after my Mother's death, my sister was in town for a wedding. I decided I was finally ready to visit my Mother's grave. It was a gorgeous early spring day. As we drove down the country road leading to the small family cemetery we passed through a tunnel of trees lining the road, gently bowed and providing our path with dappled scattered diamonds of sunlight that broke through the leaves. We eventually came to the gate of the cemetery. It is a small rustic plot of land for extended family only, so uncrowded and perched on a gentle hill. There were patches of Texas wildflowers dotting the unmanicured ground: the blue of bluebonnets, pink primrose, red Indian paintbrushes. I was astounded. It was beautiful. Instantly all the dark unhappy images my brain had conjured for all these years were erased and I was left with the image of this peaceful scene.

As we drove home I felt the lightness of my heart. Trip completed we drove into my driveway. There in the bed by the drive was one single perfect, purple iris. It had unfurled since we left the house from a bud I had never noticed. It seemed like a magical exclamation mark from my Mother to punctuate the ending of a healing day.

This year the iris were plentiful and are a living reminder of my Grandmother, my Father, my Mother, and the ties and memories that bind us together as a family.

My Mother wasn't much into scent. A bottle of Wind Song that was there when I was a child was still half full when she died. She was always impeccably put together as so many women of her generation are: perfectly coiffed hair, neat matching attire. At eighty she had fretted that she was losing her waspish waist to the battle of lax muscle. She grew up in an era when good manners and graciousness were hallmarks of being a lady and she lived these values to the end. I sometimes long to hear what she would think about the degeneration of these attributes in the almost decade she has been gone.

So I have no scent memories persay to identify with my Mother, but these iris, passed down through the family, seem a good place to land on Mother's Day when I'm searching for a scent. There are so many iris perfumes to consider, and I hover over one of my top ten perfume favorites, Prada Infusion d'Iris. But what I ultimately decide on is even more perfect, and a scent I had forgotten, Serge Lutens Bas de Soie. The perfume created by Christopher Sheldrake was released in 2010 to mixed acclaim. I remember being indifferent to it at the time, and this was the era when Serge Lutens was everything. Some called it too shrill, too cold, too piercingly sharp. Most reviewers agreed, though, that the mix of hyacinth and iris created a perfume that transported the wearer to visions of blue. I also get this sensation, which goes along with my purple-blue iris just wonderfully.

On opening there is a moment of cool hyacinth. The scent quickly starts to expand, as if getting life from oxygen. It becomes more green, like the first signs of spring gardens when the weather is still crisp. The orris notes of the iris join in and the duo of iris and hyacinth compliment each other with their cool greenness. There is a definite French refinement to this scent. Bas de Soie translates from French to mean "silk stockings" and that is what the perfumer is trying to convey. The luxury and properness from an era when women's legs were always clad in stockings, preferably made of fine, almost invisible silk. My Mother used to tell me a story of how in World War II, when she was a sixteen year old working in an office, she would use and eyebrow pencil to draw lines up the back of her legs to disguise the fact that stockings were unavailable in the days of war rations. I feel I could time travel a bottle of Bas de Soie back to 1940 and into my Mother's hands and it would be totally at home in that era. Like my memories of my Mother, this perfume speaks of refinement and elegant style. Now that I have rediscovered Bas de Soie perhaps it will be my secret weapon to wear as an armor against today's moments of incivility, a talisman to reach for a higher standard. There is something rather regal about the smell of iris. Just as the flower is impossibly beautiful and extremely fanciful, the smell holds itself a bit apart. Is it austere or is it sensual? Is it cold or is it warm and embracing? To me iris is a bit of a mystery and Serge Lutens Bas de Soie is an olfactory illustration of that mystique.

My Mother, Norma. I miss you every single day.

Have a wonderful Mother's Day!

Top painting, Iris Garden, by Ada Walter Schultz. Iris painting, Marianne Broome. Perfume my own.

Travels In India: Part Three

Reviewing: Serge Lutens Ambre Sultan, Citadelle by Raw Spirit Fragrances, Andy Tauer PHI-Une Rose de Kandehar, and Garnet by Sage Machado

Jaipur was the third stop on our Rajasthan adventure and I was excited to see "The Pink City". It is much larger than Jodphur and Jaisalmer; loads of traffic, and much busier and more chaotic. We were staying in a beautiful place, Alsisar Haveli, larger and from a more modern era than the previous lodgings. It had a large courtyard which was a calm oasis to return to after a day of touring. 

 One of the main attractions in Jaipur is a visit to Amber Fort. I had thought that maybe amber played some part in the fort's construction or that it was named after the color of the walls, which are somewhat amber in hue, however it turns out I was wrong on all counts. The fort, which dates back to 1592, is a few miles out of Jaipur near the ancient town and former capital of Amer, or Amber (pronounced with the accent on the second syllable). Nevertheless, I carried on with my perfume of the day, Ambre Sultan by Serge Lutens.

               Photo www.flashpackatforty.com

                                                       

Serge Lutens Ambre Sultan created by perfumer Christopher Sheldrake has been available to the consumer since 2000. It is from an era when Serge Lutens was looked upon as a niche perfumer and the perfume quickly gained cult status among amber lovers. I am one of those who appreciate amber in perfumes and this one stays true to the amber note, sprinkling in some extra goodies to make it more interesting. I have noticed in reviews some write about this as if it is a powerhouse amber, but on my perfume eating skin it is rich but never overwhelms and as it sinks into my skin it becomes almost airy in the later stages.

Along with the amber note which is present from the first spray, Fragrantica lists notes of coriander, oregano, bay leaf, myrtle, and angelica root. These provide a spicy lift in the initial opening of the perfume. Very occasionally for just an instant I will smell the coriander note very strongly. It is a sharp smell and although some people don't care for it, it adds life and interest with it's brief presence. Sandalwood and patchouli add substance but do not dominate. Myrrh, benzoin, and vanilla help make Ambre Sultan a rich and resinous accord but the perfume never veers toward gourmand on my skin. It remains lighter than the list of notes might indicate. I believe this is in part due to the herbal notes. I love the way they dance in and out, as quickly as a fish flicking its tail and creating a splash upon the still surface of the water. The herbal notes are that splash of water that makes a statement but then almost instantly is reabsorbed into the pond. As we trudge up the long and winding stone road to the massive gate of Amber Fort, Ambre Sultan seems a fittingly dignified and stately, yet luxurious, representation of the scene before me. Ambre Sultan may lean slightly masculine if you want to label it but I totally enjoy wearing the perfume and I can imagine the Maharajas rocking its gorgeous scent.

Touring the palaces of these Rajasthan cities and listening to the audio tours incites the imagination of how magnificently these royals lived. One feature that was described in all the palaces was the use of woven screens dampened with scented water for both a cooling and an aromatic effect. In Jaisalmer they evidently used rosewater to scent the screens but in Amber Fort they described using screens woven from Khas (or khus).

Khus, or wild vetiver, grows in Rajasthan and Indians prize it more than the cultivated variety. Its fiberous roots and reeds have been used for centuries to weave mats used for both flooring and as screens. In addition to being fragrant it is said to have a cooling effect. In the era when maharajas and maharanis lived in these palaces the mats would have been hung around the open exterior walls. Servants would have splashed water onto the mats so that the chance breeze would provide a fragrant cooling air conditioning action. If no breeze was present an army of servants would have been fanning behind the screens, no doubt. This method of air conditioning is still used in more primitive homes in India today, as well as at some of the open air temples. I love the idea of these scented screens providing an ancient version of home fragrance.

Citadelle by Raw Spirit Fragrances is the perfume I've chosen as a representation of the cooling fragrant air provided by the grass screens. First, a citadel is a fortress or protected city, so what an apt name. Citadelle is a vetiver fragrance but other notes have been added to lighten and brighten the earthy and woody notes of vetiver. I don't really know what the dampened wild vetiver screens smelled like but it is not hard to imagine that the sweet grass smelled less earthy than the distilled vetiver root. The opening notes of Citadelle are bergamot, lemon, and fragrant vetiver which give a bright and happy scent. There is a note of pear which adds a slightly sweet note to the citrus and contributes a softness to help tame the rooty tone of the vetiver. 

Marigold, or tagetes, is a note in the perfume and interestingly this flower plays a big part in Indian spiritual ceremonies. It has a distinctly pungent and slightly acrid scent that I think plays well with the woody notes of vetiver. The Raw Spirit website lists notes of cinnamon and nutmeg but I confess I don't really pick those up. Amberwood, musk, and cedar wood round out the base of the perfume but it is the beautiful Haitian vetiver that really shines. It is rooty, woody, earthy, with touches of green aromatics and gives the scent of nature and tranquility. I can imagine how refreshing a scent such a this would have been in the very hot Rajasthan summers as the grass mats were sprinkled with cool water droplets. Raw Spirits is an offshoot of the Nomads Two Worlds project started in 2009 by photographer Russel James to recognize the Australian indigeneous community, and which has since grown to include other marginalized populations. Recognizing that these communities were rich in culture and tradition, Raw Spirit sources rare or unique natural ingredients from these areas to use in the perfumes while providing an economic opportunity to the community. Vetiver is grown in Haiti and is used in Citadel, as well as another perfume from the line, Bijou Vert.

Image of Hawa Mahal from Foursquare.com

One of the most iconic images of Jaipur is the fantasic pink Hawa Mahal, translated to Palace of the Breeze, or Palace of the Wind. It was built as an addition to the Jaipur City Palace in 1799 to give the ladies of the zendana (women's area of the palace) a place to peer out on city ceremonies without being seen, as strict purdah was observed at that time. The 953 windows gave the wives and concubines of the court many viewpoints, and the windows are cunningly honeycombed with slanted slits that allowed them to gaze downward onto the streets below, yet be completely invisible to anyone looking up. The building, which is a fairly narrow facade, must have been a hive of activity during ceremonies and parades. The holes also provided cooling for the five story building. It was a beautiful pleasure palace, resplendent with colored glass which gave rainbow pools of light inside the confines. It is where the Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh came to spend time with the women of the court and also to keep cool in the summer, as the many openings in the latticed windows provided a breeze.

I imagine these beautiful ladies, locked away in the pink sandstone fanciful wedding cake structure, scented in a beautiful pink rose perfume such as Andy Tauer Phi - Une Rose de Kandahar. Rajasthan has a region that grows roses for distillation. Tauer's Une Rose de Kandahar uses a specially distilled and rare rose oil from Afghanistan's rose growing region, Nangarhar. What the two rose regions share is a dry, rugged terrain that is reflected in the rose's scent and I find that this austere landscape is represented and present throughout the wear of the perfume.

Une Rose de Kandahar opens on my skin with an opulent burst of apricot and rose. This is not an English garden rose with it's sweet fresh scent but something more exotic and dark. A touch of bitter almond is quietly standing behind the curtain as if waiting for its moment.  Bergamot is listed as a top note but here it is not used to provide light, as is sometimes the case. There is an exotic presence about this rose that feels very much at home in my Indian setting. The note of cinnamon starts to add subtle spiciness and brings to mind the markets on the street with huge burlap bags filled with colorful spices. The bitter almond is a thread that runs through the life of the perfume. I have to inhale at my wrist to really capture the smell, but it adds a slightly acrid touch that keeps this perfume bone dry and also makes it interesting, rather than just pretty. Eventually notes of tonka bean and vanilla appear to soften the scent and on my skin translate to a slightly powdery texture, rather than gourmand. Notes of bourbon geranium, tobacco leaf, patchouli, vetiver, and ambergris join the blend over time. All these notes, with maybe the exception of ambergris, lend to the dry and slight earthiness of the perfume. 

I would say that this is a perfume you definitely need to test on your own skin before buying. The descriptions from wearers are all over the place: a gourmand, a patchouli rose, a tobacco perfume. On my skin I did experience most of these notes but it was very completely blended. The rose is there, but I don't necessarily think someone smelling my skin would immediately get that it is a rose perfume. Other than the fruity opening, this perfume wears very dry and it's easy to place it in desert landscapes in countries along the ancient Silk Road. This is a rather more exotic rose than others in my collection and I quite like it.  

 Image from Indulgy.com

Garnet by Sage Machado was another perfume that came to mind when imagining these ladies of the court, peering down from their gilded cage to view life in the palace and on the streets.

I have a few of the oils from Sage dating back several years. She is California based and has been producing perfumes and candles for over twenty years, as well as jewelry. The line has a hippie and bohemian vibe, both in presentation and the actual scents. I don't find them to be complex scents; they're simple and easy to wear, and tend to stay close to the skin. The diminutive size and roll on style bottle make the oils the perfect travel companion. The perfumes are named after gemstones and Sage used flowers and essence to give an olfactory vision of the precious stones. The red garnet reminds me of Rajasthan, where pinks and reds are seen everywhere. Notes are Moroccan red rose, gardenia, watermelon, blackberry, amber, patchouli, and vanilla. I get a slight fruitiness in the initial application, then a floral mix of rose and gardenia which just smells rich, no one flower taking precedence. The patchouli and amber appear fairly quickly (although my bottle is quite ancient so maybe not true on a fresher batch) and reinforce the hippie and slightly exotic edge to this perfume. It's all rather muddled and there is no unfolding of notes but I like the casual amber and patchouli vibe it imparts. In the Indian setting it brings to mind red and gold saris, evening air in the temple heavy with flower offerings and incense, hennaed hands, and arms lined with sparkling bangles. Although it stays close to the skin, Sage Garnet feels very right in this exotic place.

To wind things up, here are another couple of photo taken by me in this city of pink.

Ladies outside Hawa Mahal.

An elephant next to us in Jaipur traffic.

I hope you enjoyed this tour of Jaipur. For more India travel stories and perfume reviews go to Part One and Part Two.

Top imge, David Davis Flickr. All other photos my own unless otherwise identified below. All perfumes are my own.