2014 - My Year In Perfume, Moments Of Beauty In A Saturated Market

Looking back over my 2014 fragrance habit, I’m reminded of a feature written by Tania Sanchez in Perfumes, The A-Z guide. Sanchez describes her concept of our journey through a fragrance obsession in 6 specific stages leading from the childhood curiosity of our parent’s fragrances through to an enlightened conclusion. In this, the 6^th and final stage, she suggests that we might experience:

“Stage 6: Enlightenment.

Absence of ideology. Distrust of the overelaborate, overexpensive and arcane. Satisfaction in things themselves”.

This resonates with me.

In 2014 I was grateful to get my nose around a number of inventive and complex creations from the world of ‘niche’ fragrance (whatever that words means nowadays). However, I smelt a much larger number of ‘The Emperor’s new clothes’. By this I mean the fragrances that were churned into the market at high prices and high speed, often trading on the concept of ‘niche’ to justify the hoohaa. People talked about them and bought them. No doubt caught in the decadent grip of Sanchez’s earlier Stage 5:

"Stage 5: Decadence.

An ideology of taste, either of the heavy-handed or the barely there. The age of leathers, patchoulis, tobaccos, ambers; or, alternatively, the age of pale watercolours in vegetal shades. An obsession with the hard to find."

In 2014, brands that were initially marketed to the wealthy Middle Eastern consumer continued to be devoured by folk on ordinary incomes as online discussion groups were often dominated by ‘an ideology of taste’ that favoured the skilfully manipulated desire for the ‘private blend or the exclusif’. Additionally, some superstar perfumers increased the number of products in their own ranges at flabbergasting speed. This led to vast spending, often resulting in fragrance fans leaving Facebook groups to avoid the excessive shopping temptation created by discussions (and then giving in and coming back again such was the lure!).

The sheer number of 2014 releases from niche brands meant that many scents replicated what we have already smelt before. I found myself opening sample packages without the thrilling anticipation of the possibility that they could contain some sort of nose nirvana. This is not a good mental state for a perfume blogger!

However, it wasn’t all bleak.

Occasionally I’ll smell a perfume that penetrates my imagination so thoroughly that I can type up an article swiftly and with great excitement. Others require much pondering and a painful number of hours at the screen. When I smelt the smouldering Anubis by Papillon Artisan Perfumes, the imagery it created for me was instant and exhilarating. It was by far the most thrilling post to write this year. Click here to take a peek at David Hemmings’ marvellously wild face, some fatally seductive sirens and one of the most successful indie releases of the year.

Danger for lost seamen - Anubis

Thrills aside, my favourite article of the year was my post on Guerlain’s understated masterpiece - Idylle. I believe this rarely discussed scent is deserved of the accolades that Guerlain’s stable of historic classics receive in profusion. Click here to read why I thought it to be the misunderstood outsider.

The relationship between fragrance, music and celebrity continued to excite me as my imagination frequently allotted a musician to my perception of a scent. The gargantuan floral punch of Byredo – Flowerhead brought indie powerhouse singer Beth Ditto to mind which resulted in one of the odder of the Odiferess reviews. Whilst Nobile 1942 – Infinito evoked decadent sensations of late nice dancing in the woods at summer music festivals.

Betto Ditto in technicolour

My own wardrobe in 2014 gained some pleasing additions, with an increased fascination for floral, green and aldehyde notes occurring. My most appreciated new entry was Clinique - Wrappings, an overwhelmingly picturesque outdoorsy whiff, sparkling with aldehydes and unlike anything I’ve ever smelt in a perfume bottle. Its originality was amplified by my perceived stagnation of the overfilled market. That Clinique have not released this scent on their standard counters is bizarre.

The feeling of Wrappings, a bracing bottle of oxygen and nature

More greenery arrived in the form of a new bottle of Guerlain - Vol De Nuit, when I say ‘a bottle’ I actually mean the extraordinary object of great glassy desire that is the Parfum Extrait. Whilst I adored my (nearly empty) EDT, I felt a compulsion to be able to hold this gilt propellored creature in my hands and stare lovingly at it whilst anointing myself. I wasn’t disappointed.

My pretty thing

I clearly went through some sort of ‘grown up lady’ phase befitting for my forties as I frequently reached for Lanvin - Arpege, Chanel – No 5, Van Cleef & Arpels - First and Lubin - Nuit de Longchamp. Interestingly, my new job in September inspired me to dress with increased sophistication for work and make the effort to apply make up at stupid-o-clock in the morning. Perhaps these scents helped me to feel suitably groomed?

To round up, here is a list of my most frequently worn and adored scents of 2014 (you can click on those in a different colour to read a review) :

Guerlain – Idylle EDT

Clinique – Wrappings

Gucci – EDP (The discontinued caraway & leather oriental)

Chanel – No 5

Guerlain – Vol de Nuit

Chanel – 31 Rue Cambon (which has now been outdone by a last days of December purchase of the blissful Cuir de Russie)

Caron – Muguet de Bonheur

Lanvin – Arpege

Yves Rocher – Voile D’ Ambre

Robert Piguet – Calypso

And a list of those which I do not yet own but seduced me at first whiff:

Papillon Artisan Perfumes – Anubis

Scent on Canvas – Brun Sicilien

Guerlain – Idylle (in EDP form)

Clinique – Aromatics in White

Narciso Rodriguez For Her – Musc Eau de Parfum Intense (the flanker with the dusky pink metallic bottle that smells oddly like the opening of Serge Lutens – Tuberuese Criminelle)

Neela Vermeire – Mohur

Serge Lutens – L’ Orpheline

Hermes – Santal Massoia

Parfums Nicolai – Maharanih

Chanel – Jersey

As I consider my 2015 articles for Odiferess, I shall be searching for the magnificent amongst the mediocre and aim to bring you some reviews of genuinely innovative scents. As usual I’ll be letting my imagination investigate some eclectic cultural nonsense in which to tell you about them! In the meantime, I’d love to hear about your favourite scents of the year.

Review: Caron - Muguet Du Bonheur & Frederic Malle - En Passant, The Superior 'Eau De Toilet'

It smells like Pledge!

Have you uttered these words before? Or indeed, toilet cleaner, cheapo air fresheners, little hanging cardboard car de-funkers and washing up liquid?

Some olfactory joy for the 50s housewife

Certain notes are synonymous with ‘eau de toilet cleaner’ and it’s sibling domestic hygiene products. This is the sweetly scented land of pine, lavender, lily of the valley, lilac and lemon and lime. Perhaps it’s a scent phenomenon that those of us in our middle and older years will understand more readily, being that there are some mighty clever folk working in labs to create increasingly exotic aroma chemicals for the home (or British seaside B &B) nowadays. My gorgeous Asda own brand washing up liquid bears a distinct resemblance to Comme Des Garcons – Incense Avignon, which I’m sure can’t be a coincidence.

Eau de toilet cleaner is not necessarily an unappealing thing. In fact, I find myself attracted to all of the above notes and will actively seek them out for a sniff. There’s a reason they’ve become commonplace in popular domestic products. That is because they bring the outdoors inside. If my bathroom emits the whiff of a wood in springtime I’m rather chuffed! The almighty turpenic pine of Serge Lutens - Fille En Aiguilles reminds me of those pine scented little hanging car-tree thingamees and Ecover ‘Pine Fresh’ toilet cleaner. I’ve worked my ecstatic way through 40 mls of it. I’m also a fair way through a large beloved bottle of Penhaligon’s – Lavandula (Pledge lavender furniture polish).

So here are some thoughts on two of my favourite fragrances that have bravely defied the hygiene connotations and made magnificence with the familiar household notes of lilac and lily of the valley.

Van Gogh's Lilac Bush

Firstly, is Olivia Giacobetti’s nostalgic creation for the Editions De Parfums Frederic Malle collection – En Passant, a lilac scent with some extraordinary notes. En Passant translates as ‘in passing’, which is an unusually relevant name. A lilac tree tends to ambush you with it’s beguiling fragrance as you pass by. A walk through a suburban neighbourhood can be delightful thing if you are lucky enough to encounter one of these heady shrubs cutting through the smell of, well, not much. If you get really lucky you’ll find one close to a recently cut lawn and be in all kinds of olfactory heaven.

En Passant features an eclectic mix of lilac, cucumber, petitgrain and wheat, an unimaginable combination. But how this works is to make lilac ‘more lilacky’. The accompanying notes are not intrusive but they do add a kind of ‘after the rain’ sensation that takes me right back to countryside of my childhood. En Passant is a hyper-realistic lilac, bearing the oily green quality of the real thing. Crucially, it’s delicate and it wears close to the skin which stops it being an almighty headache of a fragrance as soliflores can often be.

It fits into the category of ‘journey scents’, i.e. that which allows your imagination to create a dreamed up location rather than smelling ‘like perfume’. I can imagine En Passant scenting the scene for Rene Magritte’s surrealist painting ‘Empire Of The Light’. Alike honeysuckle, lilac throes out it’s come hither beauty on a warm summer evening. When I peer at the intriguingly illuminated house in this picture, I can sense the unseen apparition of it’s garden. It would smell like En Passant.

Magritte, Empire Of The Light

Another vividly natural scent is Caron’s ethereal Muguet Du Bonheur. This is a long way removed from the lily of the valley that we associate with those old fashioned solid gel air fresheners, so popular in budget hotel bathrooms.

Alike En Passant, Muguet Du Bonheur is spookily realistic. I use the word ‘spookily’ in that lily of the valley has a slightly supernatural feel to me. Perhaps it’s because we find it emerging magically through the forest floor as the light of spring emerges from the dark depths of winter. In France, sprigs of lily of the valley (Muguet) are gifted on the 1^st of May as a symbol of good luck for the year ahead, again carrying a bewitched connotation.

Ludmila Anderson's spooky muguet

Caron’s interpretation of this lucky flower is vibrantly green, oily, sappy and soapy. A spritz of this scent post shower is capable of making me feel euphoric at 7am, quite a feat in that there is very little that can bring me out of my grumpy night-owl slumber with anything resembling joy. ‘Outdoorsy’ scents are my favourite genre and this one contains a clear whiff of the country life. Just for a little while, I can pretend to be off to explore the woods instead of battling through the city traffic to work.

Caron’s fragrances are always complex multifaceted creations. Within it’s composition, Muguet Du Bonheur hints at lilac (which comes across slightly anisic here) and woods (sandalwood). Although there is no oakmoss in the composition, a ‘mossy’ note can be sensed  in the general earthy quality of the scent.

I tried the current version of Dior’s famous Muguet scent - Diorissimo recently, which smelt ‘like pleasant perfume’. In comparison, Caron’s Muguet smells like some sort of picnic in a pastoral paradise.

The soapy aspect could be described in this one of Degas’ bather paintings. As his elfin model bathes, a shaft of sunlight from the window illuminates the room and casts a green and white reflection across the water. She is outdoors inside.

Bather, Degas

To read more on the lovely Muguet, take a peak at this romantically penned post over at The Black Narcissus. It’s rather good. 

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Review: Caron - My Ylang, Summer Bottled

It seems appropriate that as the UK has been bound up in rather melodramatic smog (complete with drizzle) recently that I turned to a delightfully sunny fragrance for escape, Caron’s 2013 release – My Ylang.

Caron’s output is much smaller than that of it’s historic rival – Guerlain. Meaning that a new release is a rare thing of excitement, my sample should have come with one of those greeting cards that plays a tune, in this case, a trumpeted fanfare to announce it’s arrival.

My Ylang fits neatly into the genre of ‘solar floral’, a term which could be interpreted in a number of ways. Elena at Perfume Shrine suggests that molecules called salicylates (which occur naturally in the Ylang Ylang plant) are a vital component of the solar effect:

“To the perfume student these molecules present fascinating facets on the path of creation because salicylates encompass complimentary aspects and aid diffusion, making fragrances open up and "expand" in a sunny, exhilarating way. Gardenia, tiaré, and frangipani accords are usually built on salicylates and their summery vibe warms our heart even in winter.” Perfume Shrine

The ultimate sunshine girl, Bardot.

Typically, salicylates have been long used in sunscreen lotion which is probably why we associate perfumes containing these molecules with the joy of the holiday season. Guerlain’s Lys Soleia and Terracotta fragrances, Estee Lauder’s Bronze Goddess and Lancaster’s Sunwater all emit a veritable ‘Thomas Cook’ aroma that remind us of time away from work spent in the throes of heat and decadent leisure. It’s no wonder we love them.

 Ylang Ylang

However, another association occurs for me as there is a definite whiff of Nivea Crème radiating from My Ylang. Nivea was for many years my mum’s choice of skincare meaning that the ‘Nivea note’ signifies love, warmth and protection to me.

This how it wears:

My Ylang opens with a gargantuan burst of citrus and ylang. If you’re curious about what ylang actually smells like, you can take a whiff anywhere that sells essential oils as it is often used in aromatherapy for it’s anti-depressant and sensual properties. Oddly, I really dislike it on it’s own but when mixed with other aromas it becomes a thing of beauty. Mandarin Orange is the only official listed citrus but there is a ‘bells of St. Clements’ effect similar to that found in Jour D’Hermes, but significantly less spiky. A little blackcurrant creeps into the fruit bowl in a very pleasing manner. In recent years this note has been used in abundance, often paired in a sickly gloop of flat sweetness. YSL’s Manifesto and Armani’s Si were responsible for creating ‘blackcurrant haters’ as they introduced to the world their berry puddings, effectively giving us all olfactory diabetes. When blackcurrant is used in collaboration with barely sweetened background (as in My Ylang), it offers us a dazzling edge of greenery and piquancy that ‘lifts’ the composition in a similar fashion to the use of aldehydes. Paired with a trace hint of lily of the valley, you could can sense an atmosphere of nature thriving.

My Ylang is complex, unsurprisingly for Caron who are masters of ‘the journey’ i.e. creating perfumes with a great transformation from start to finish. The different facets of the scent feel almost as if they are moving, dancing about, weaving in and out of our perception. Underpinning the dance lies a grounding base of authentic vanilla that is detectable throughout the journey. It isn’t particularly sweet, simply warm and comforting. Unlike many other solar florals, there are no tropical fruit or coconut elements, which keep it a long way from becoming a genre stereotype.

I’d recommend My Ylang for those who are seeking a cheering lift, an essence of summer and a fragrance that offers a multifaceted ride. It does however retail at a high price. For a less expensive (but not as delightfully complex) alternative, a similar vibe can be found in Guerlain’s Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia. Failing that you could root out last summer’s flip flops, download The Isley Brother’s Summer Breeze, sip away at a Pina Colada and hope the weather looks up.

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Odiferess takes a holiday, some thoughts on choosing your sunshine perfumes.

When I get overexcited I clap my hands in sea lion fashion. A lot of clapping and maniacal grinning has been occurring during the last few days as I make lists and stuff my rucksack for a trip to the charming island of Paxos in the Ionian Sea.

Sadly this means there’ll be a short break from the perfume waffle.. but fear not as I’ll be making lots of notes for Greek island inspired smelly words on my return. My beloved moleskine journal is packed already.

In the meantime though, my thoughts are cast to the art of choosing perfume for the holiday.  How do you pick one (or 6 obviously)?

Firstly, my blood is akin to crack cocaine for the hungry mosquitoes. No kidding, no matter who I holiday with, I always endure a ravaging by the vile things. As my travel partner sleeps sweetly in a comfortable cocoon of lump free skin, I remain awake, tortured by the high pitched sound of my imminent attack. So my primary concern is choosing something that covers the acrid smell of jungle strength bug repellent.

For evening: I will mask the smell of Jungle Formula with Robert Piguet’s marvellous oriental – Visa. This stuff has the sillage and longevity of an 80s power scent that might put my fellow diners off their souvlaki and stuffed peppers. I’ll be careful though and use a maximum of 2 sprays (honest).

For travelling: Paxos does not have an airport. It’s one of those places where after you’ve survived the dubious pleasure of the flight, queued for baggage and waited in the transfer coach for an hour for a confused couple inebriated on aeroplane plastic wine to find it, you are then deposited at the docks to sit on your rucksack to shield your bum from the 44 degree tarmac, awaiting the Hydrafoil which will give you motion sickness. It’s worth it though. I’ll be taking a big decant from my bottle of Guerlain’s – Eau de Cologne Imperiale to spray over my chest and face every 15 minutes, using it’s copious notes of lime and bergamot to revive myself. No doubt I’ll be fully revived as I sit with a large gin and tonic staring at the milky way in an inky sky later on!

For atmosphere: Paxos is covered in pine trees, one my most frequently desired notes in perfumery. With the August heat, I imagine the island will shimmer with the scent of it’s delightful sap. Just in case it needs a little boosting, I shall pack Serge Lutens – Fille en Aiguilles (clever name, it translates as ‘girl on needles’ which could imply either walking on high heels or on a bed of pine needles). This mega pine bomb has a spicy/fruity/smoky base that turns it from vociferous toilet cleaner into number 3 on my unblogged list of greatest perfumes ever created.

To scent the room: I’ve made some travel candles in mini Tiptree jam jars (pinched from my mum’s house last weekend, she buys lovely breakfast tat when she has guests staying over). I’ve used plentiful quantities of the essential oils of cedar, rosewood and clary sage mixed with a teeny drop of patchouli. They smell magnificent and bring a little sensuality to the blank foil of a basic hotel room.

Because it’s hot: I’ll take an overly subtle ‘skin scent’ to see if my baking skin amps up the projection. Probably, my sample vial of Hermessence Brin de Reglisse. I do so love it but it’s a wimp.

Because he’ll raid mine: I’ll pinch Andy’s glorious Lavender - Caron Pour un Homme when I grow short of my own stash of fume. 

Upon my return, you can look forward to Part 3 of 'The Scent of British Spirit' series, this time featuring two truly independent perfumers. Prepare for some seriously quirky fumes in the English eccentric manner!

Review: Caron - Eaux de Caron Fraiche, King cologne!

The Eau de Cologne resides at the heart of European perfumery. As we spritz ourselves with a revitalizing burst of citrus notes, we echo the fragrant habits of our ancestors, some of whom bathed in it and even drank it, believing it to be medically restorative!

Typically, notes of neroli, edible citrus fruits, bergamot, herbs and a little something musky or earthy to anchor the base, constitute what we know as an Eau de Cologne. The archetypal cologne could be said to be Maurer & Wirtz’s 4711, launched in the highly odiferous world of 1792. Retailing at a very low price it can be used as intended – to literally douse yourself in it with a vigorous splash. However, in our modern world we can use it daily after a shower instead of daily to disguise the musky stench of unwashed bodies.

I first became smitten with the lemony delight when (working as a sales rep for a magazine in the mid 90s) I attended a trade fair in Madrid. The definitive daytime scent of the Spanish man is Alvarez Gomez – Aqua de Colognia. Bought in enormous bottles, this citrus bomb 

plasters everything from men and women to laundry and babies.

The men of Madrid looked damn good, well these ones did. They were representatives from the casino industry; slicked back dark locks, well cut suits (including some sporting colonial white linen, something of a fetish for me), intense eyes, often of a startling blue, and a big wodge of attitude that comes from being wealthy and prominent in a rather dubious business. I did rather well in Madrid, picking up significant new advertising business and boosting dilapidated accounts. I can only assume that I must have flirted my way through the sales pitch, drooling figures and USPs whilst twirling my hair and acting coy. I assume that the reason I love cologne so much is that I find it sexy, long held associations with the casino crowd are anchored in the smell of lemons!

The best of my vast cologne collection is Caron’s relatively unknown and certainly uncelebrated Eaux de Caron Fraiche. As one part of a trilogy of fresh cologne style EDTs, it stands out as a unique interpretation of the genre. Why? Because it doesn’t stink of neroli, a note of which I am growing increasingly bored. Instead it offers the following notes:

“Lemon, fresh and bitter grapefruit, mandarin, sweet and fresh bergamot, artemis and balmy galbanum refreshes the top notes. The heart is made of narcotic rose, flowery sweet and clear jasmine spiced up with nutmeg and patchouli. Settled in the base are oakmoss and sensuous musk.” (quote from fragrantica)

To my nose, this is initially a lemon and bergamot fragrance with an air of sweetness that reminds me of quaffing sharp, fizzy sherbet lemons. Just like the sweets, it makes you suck in your cheeks with it’s first shot of acidity. But then, just when you are thinking ‘standard citrus cologne’ you notice something else – an edge of soft earthiness, a damp forest floor vibe, a rich peaty soil. This effect, in just a few minutes, transforms the scent into a magnificent oakmoss. It’s almost like the bones of chypre (bergamot and oakmoss), with very little else apart from a gentle spice. The floral notes listed here are barely discernible. Maybe this is what Mitsouko or Femme would smell like before the addition of their other powerhouse notes?

Alike my eternal Caron favourite ‘Eau de Reglisse’, this fragrance provides a real ‘journey’ from top to base with a dry-down that is unrecognizable from the first spray. This appeals to me enormously, perhaps because the sharp entry refreshes and uplifts whilst the tender exit comforts and calms.

The downside of Eaux de Caron Fraiche is that it’s a monumental mission to get hold of unless you live in France. My bottle was an online blind buy, inexpensive and exquisitely successful. If you love colognes this will definitely not disappoint you.

Other recommended cologne style fragrances in my collection:

Yves Rocher – Cedre Bleu (delightful cedar/sandalwood, fresh themed wood cologne)

Dior – Escale aux Marquises (bitter orange and spice, very long lasting)

Caron – Eau de Reglisse (my ‘signature’, lemon verbena, liquorice and spices)

Guerlain – Eau Imperiale (lime/lime blossom, beautiful but shockingly short lived)

Comme de Garcons Series 4 Cologne: Vettiveru (weird, slightly medicinal vetiver)

With the temperature this week set high and rising, tell me, what are your favourite colognes?

Fragrantica, home of the fume junkie.

How does a perfume lover transgress to becoming a perfume junkie?
A question that is impossible to answer with just one idea. However, online perfume magazine - Fragrantica.com helped me journey from lover to (contented) obsessive. 
Here's how it happened..
Many years ago I wore an aromatic body mist by Decleor. This extraordinarily beautiful creation was discontinued, leaving me bereft of it's spicy, exotic delights. It's primary note was liquorice, or at least, that was all I could remember my nose identifying. I began a search to hunt down a fragrance containing this elusive note. At the time, only the Lempicka fragrances were known to contain the rather foody spice, sadly, I was repulsed by their sticky sweetness.
Googling led me to discover Caron's 'Eau de Reglisse', or 'liquorice water' which had it's own page on Fragrantica. The page told me of it's key notes, gave me opinions of Fragrantica members in the form of reviews, a history of the fragrance house and most importantly, the possibility of replacing my beloved fragrance.
Further googling led me to an independent perfumery that posted me a sample of Eau de Reglisse (amongst a generous bag of testers from other niche houses). I was hooked. I bought the fragrance and began to research the other eccentric little vials of wonder on Fragrantica.

Fragrantica encouraged me to test my olfactory ability, I would apply a sample, ponder it's initial effect, consider it's journey from top to base notes and write down what notes I thought it might contain. I then referenced Fragrantica's database to see how many I had guessed correctly. I surprised myself with the realisation that I was skilled at this. Try it, it's the beginning of training your nose.. 

Another relentlessly addictive tool on the website allowed me to 'search by notes', meaning that I could enter in a few of my favourite smells: grass, bay, hawthorn etc and a magical list would appear of links to fragrances made for my unorthodox taste.. except those of us that have a 'blind buying' habit know that we can't always predict the cumulative effect of our favoured smells! 

As my collection grew I joined in 'swops' with other members, a method of disposing of our unsatisfying blind buys and lesser loved fumes and getting something new to love in return. With an ebay purchase of a sizable stash of empty vials and atomisers, my collection additionally allowed me to gift samples to others. This ultimately resulted in 'fragrance buddies', of which I shall write in a future post.

Of course, this was only one element of my journey, but Fragrantica remains my daily dose of an obsessive community. After all, who in the reality of our daily lives shares the hunt for the perfect elixir as we do?

The smell of Instagram, fun with my camera.

With a proliferation of superbly written, wordy, fume fuelled blogs already in existence, I chose to create my first post as Odiferess in pictures. So here it is: tonight's little experiment with a homemade lightbox, Instagram and some favourites from my fume wardrobe.