The 100th post - revisiting my favourite articles at Odiferess

Crikey, this is my 100th article for Odiferess!

To mark the occasion, here is a round up of my favourite posts over the last 5 years. They are articles that fizzed out of me faster than my typing speed, those which are an utter joy to write. I like to think that they are somewhat 'different' from what visitors expect to read and that they offer an insight into my often bizarre thought process! 
I hope you enjoy revisiting them.

On Witches:
It seems fitting to include my review of Ormonde Woman by Ormonde Jayne, it is Halloween after all. Highlights include references to my Grandmother's dubious home remedies and getting ferns in your knickers.
click here to read

On Music:
A celebration of exuberant women in music, inspired initially by the technicolour wonder that is Regine Chassagne of Arcade Fire. What perfume would suit these musical marvels?
click here to read

On a truly saucy scent:
When Anubis by Papillon Perfumery brought to mind salty pirates, Captain Nolan and the power of female sensuality.
click here to read

On an under appreciated Guerlain:
Why is Idylle not hallowed in the Guerlain hall of fame? Here I speak of my love for the scent and swoon at Thierry Wasser. 
click here to read

On heartbreak:
A personal story of love and loss inspired by Jul et Mad - Terrasse a St Germain. 
click here to read

On the great outdoors:
A picturesque post where a walk in the Yorkshire Moors became an ode to the chilly aldehydes of Clinique - Wrappings
click here to read

On the significance of a Royal Warrant:
A rather slapstick look at branding within the British Perfume Industry featuring discussions about the Queen's fear of warts and why Fergie was the only Royal I'd invite to the pub. 
click here to read

On proper perfume:
The most recent post, on how I was overwhelmed by the beauty of Warszawa by Pure Distance. This posts discusses the concept that we might all be 'a bit too expert' and ponders the days before the online fragrance community existed.
click here to read

On the cats of perfume land:
How I fell in love with a furry little fella called Joseph and a photographic peep at the feline companions of my fellow perfume writers. 
click here to read


To ensure that you never miss a fragrant post you can either subscribe by email using the box in the right hand column, or hit like at:
https://www.facebook.com/odiferess/

Review: Penhaligon's Tralala - Whiskey Fudge For Grown Ups

I enjoy a drink. Not in vast liver pickling quantities, but I do get rather excited about a good bottle of prosecco or an earthily lush Scottish whiskey. On the rare occasions where I’ve meekly stumbled into work with a ‘wasn’t expecting that sort of night’ hangover, I’ve worried about projecting an eau de latent-booze sillage. Which makes me wonder…

Why do we like boozy perfumes?

Aldi's gin. Tastes brilliant. Smells brilliant. 

There’s loads of them. Ancient Cognac house Frapin market some of the most favoured booze fumes, with Frapin 1697 and Speakeasy issuing a more powerful rum whiff than a Jamaican theme bar. Guerlain’s latest Aqua Allegoria release, Limon Verde, is an acidicly sunny homage to the Caipairinha cocktail that stirs joyful memories of moonlit dancing somewhat pissed-up on a beach in Portugal. Penhaligon’s and Lubin both created an ode to gin and tonic in Juniper Sling and Gin Fizz respectively. Each echoing the bracing and aromatic refreshment of my favourite pre-dinner tipple.

All of these scents use the booze in a subtly blended manner. Neither will provoke a raised eyebrow and a ‘has she been drinking?’ query. However, one that might do is the utterly bonkers Bertrand Duchaufour creation for Penhaligon’s - Tralala.

“Tralala, is the latest fragrance from Penhaligon's inspired by the fantastical universe of Edward Meadham and Benjamin Kirchhoff. An opulent, hedonistic blend created by Master Perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour.” (Penhaligons.com)

Meadham Kirchhoff are an offbeat fashion design duo who paired up with Penhaligon’s to create a scent to echo their spirit – in essence a quirky ‘designer scent’ for this historic perfume house. Their designs are brilliantly weird with all sorts of hyper-references to the glamour of the past. I’m not talking about Hollywood glamour here, unless the film is Tod Browning’s 1932 ‘Freaks’ - a disturbing tale of what happens when the ‘normals’ (not my term) try to diddle the circus ‘freaks’ out of their share of the money. They feel exotically ‘children’s dressing up box’.

Meadham Kirchhoff designs on the catwalk

Tralala is somewhat ‘trashy’, in a rather superb way. It’s odd booze and confectionary vibe feels glamourous yet childish. The stuff of ‘cheap glamour’, i.e. feather trims, sequins, kaleidoscopic colour, frills, bows and lace, that appeal to the young girl. Give an eight year old girl a feather boa and some sparkly jewelry to play with and she’ll be absorbed in a fantasy world, no matter how much of a tomboy she may be. I had one, and I climbed trees and built dens. It even has a (creepy) dolls head for a lid, no doubt to reawaken a sense of playfulness in our adult lives.

When I first smelt Tralala I was very confused. It smelt both splendid and rancid in equal measures. I loved it, then I hated it, then I loved it again. It seems that with this scent there’s a requirement for a specific mood. I can’t get up and spray it after my morning shower, it would be like quaffing a box of pralines, washed down with a double Laphroiag alongside my Cornflakes. Likewise, it doesn’t work for me as a bed scent, being a little too aldehyde perky for soporific effect. What it does do however, it augment those times when you delve into your grown up dressing up box. It’s a whopping great night out accessory for the times you feel the need to wear something grandly outrageous. Encased within it's own lavish wardrobe, you can literally reach inside and bring Tralala out to play with you.

Essentially, it smells of whiskey fudge. So much so that (if donned in a limited edition tartan bow) it would sell marvelously well in the Edinburgh Woollen Mill shops where tourist folk fork out much moollah for cosy cashmere jumpers and kitsch tins of shortbread decorated with rampantly masculine looking stags in a misty glen.

I rather like the smell of whiskey fudge.

This isn’t a completely gourmand scent though. An aldehyde reigns through the opening, which smells most beguilingly peculiar alongside the sweetness.  I’m used to the sparkling aldehydes of No. 5 and Arpege where the effect is dryly ‘grown-up’. The aldehyde in Tralala serves to freshen what would otherwise be a syrupy sweet opening. Add to this a hint of leather and an edge ‘not actually for children’ appears. It’s a bit like the image of an adult female wearing ankle socks with stiletto heels, slightly kinky.

Ultimately, I prefer Duchaufor’s earlier perfume – Skin on Skin, created for sister company L’ Artisan Parfumeur, due to it’s all occasions wearability. This whiskey and leather scent possesses great similarities to Tralala but replaces the confectionary overload with lavender. It is much more suitable for one who tends to dislike gourmands. However, on the occasions when I dust off the Mac emerald coloured eye shadow and gold flecked body oil, then wobble onto my scarlet platform heels, I’ll be reaching for Tralala to complement the dressing up box excess.

I had my encounter with Tralala courtesy of the lovely Alex Musgrave (AKA The Silver Fox). If you have not yet discovered his scent blog, here is a link. It’s a literary delight.

If you enjoyed this post, you might like to read about Union Fragrance - Celtic Fire, another fine whiskey bomb perfect for Autumn.

On The Lure Of The Perfume Pendant - A Guest Spot At The Penhaligon's Journal.

Occasionally, I'll be overcome with a desire to buy something I can't afford. I usually tend to see sense and keep my credit card stashed safely away. But on this occasion, I caved. I thought about it, wrote about it, then obsessed about it. Then I bought one. It made me happy.

Here is a little piece I wrote for the Penhaligon's Journal during the 'obsessing but not buying' period. Out of interest I filled it with Mitsouko, not whisky.. 

http://www.penhaligons.com/i-want-a-penhaligons-perfume-pendant/

The Lure Of The Christmas Perfume Gift Set, Some Tips For The Festive Season

It’s that time of year, when we fumies are bombarded with emails advising us of ALL THE DAZZLING FRAGRANT STUFF WE CAN BUY when we really should be shopping for our loved ones i.e. Christmas gift set season.

If only Harrods sold penguins at Christmas..

When we signed up to the ‘yes, send me news of offers and promotions’ box at the online stores of our favourite perfume houses through the year, we forget about the chronic agony of repeatedly denying ourselves the joy that is buying a perfume + body lotion + shower gel + fantastically designed box etc.. that would render us unable to pay for other people’s presents.

Gift sets are an extremely good deal. Most of the mainstream houses offer at least one free subsidiary product for the price of just the perfume. This is especially useful if you are a lover of the ‘projection beast’. One Christmas I received a YSL Opium body lotion that when used alongside the perfume, could burn off the olfactory organ of a person half a mile away. It was a very pleasing present.

Niche houses are less generous at Christmas, probably due to the fact that not all of them actually create body or home fragrance products. Those who do however, should really join in the festivities and stop being scrooges.

Here is a round up of some of the best sets from the larger niche houses and mainstreams on sale this year. But before you take a look, consider your approach to the gift set season. I think there are 4 ways you can benefit from it:

1. Buy a set before Christmas but wait until you are offered a discount. For instance, last week Debenhams announced 10% off all beauty and fragrance effectively making an already bargainous set more bargainous. No doubt the other department stores will make similar bids for our custom. 
2. Buy a set in store after Christmas. In last year’s January sales, sets from YSL, Clinique, Lauder and Guerlain were all reduced by about 30%. You had to be quick to grab one though.
3. Buy a set from Ebay. This is a graveyard of unwanted gifts in January. You can pick up a set that might have been sprayed once or twice to test and then discarded in disgust by someone who was gifted something brilliant that was not to their taste. Used scent = cheap scent.
4. Lastly, you could sod it and just buy everything you want and worry about later when the obscenely greedy energy companies send you your extortionate January heating bill. At least you can scent your chunky knit jumpers with something beautiful as you shiver at home.

So here we go, more ways to spend your money this month:

Niche

Ormonde Jayne: The Sloane Square shop are offering a 20% discount on everything by phone and in store this Wednesday (20^th November). UK postage costs £8 so this would effectively make an £80 50 ml scent cost £72 by post or £64 in store. Plus if you go to shop between 6pm and 8pm there's a party with champers. Phone to enquire about International postage which they are attempting to make reasonably priced. Tolu, Ta'if, Ormonde Woman and Orris Noir are stunningly well crafted scents that I imagine would appeal to anybody. They are not challenging, just beautiful. To read my review of the marvelous pagan fantasy - Ormonde Woman, click here.

Belle of The Ball Gift Set in Orris Noir - £115

(reduced to £92 with the 20% discount)

Penhaligon’s: have a truly covetable range of gifts sets this year in beautifully illustrated tins, my favourite is the Gentlemen’s Miniature Collection at £35 including Sartorial and Blenheim Bouquet. To read my review of these two masculine lovelies, click here.

Gentlemen’s Miniature Collection

L’ Artisan Parfumeur: The ‘pop up’ style gift boxes of the season are a fine example of contemporary design in the perfume industry and a treat for those who collect the brand, however they don’t offer the grandest saving. This is a good option for those on a budget who are fond of purse size fumes:

Christmas Discovery Gift Set £35 with 4 x 7 ml vapo tubes of:

•Mûre et Musc 

•La Chasse aux Papillons 

•Premier Figuier 

•Nuit de Tubéreuse 

I’d rather smell of festival toilets than the death by Jasmine that is Le Chasse aux Papillons (Luca Turin gave it 3 stars so my opinion may not be definitive!), but the others are wonderful and it’s a collectible box.

Discovery Gift Set

A quick search brings up very little in the form of niche gift sets but an alternative is a large sample set which is huge treat for a fumie. The most diverse and exciting ones come from: Ormonde Jayne, Parfum D’ Empire, Le Labo, Olfactive Studio, Amouage, Les Parfums De Rosine, Scent On Canvas, Jovoy and Histoires De Parfums. To read my post on the Olfactive Studio sample set, click here.

A browse on their online boutiques will reveal the goodies. It’s useful to know that the French word for sample is Echantillons. Though I imagine that if you’re geeky and obsessive enough to read Odiferess you’ll probably know this already..

Mainstream:

This is where the real bargains are to be had.

Givenchy: I maintain that the original Givenchy Gentleman is the greatest masculine Patchouli ever made (not to be confused with Givenchy Gentleman Only which is scent nonsense). A set containing 100 ml EDT and 75 ml All Over Shampoo is available for about£56.50 at all of the main department stores.

Miller Harris: Yes, I don’t consider them mainstream either, but the range is being sold in Debenhams. For £60 you can buy a miniatures collection in either ‘Woody’ or ‘Citrus’. Woody contains 3 x 15 ml EDPs of: La Fumée , Feuilles de Tabac and Fleurs de Sel. All delightfull.

Estee Lauder: Queen of the gift set. They’ve released several desirable sets this year. Though be warned, I tested Youth Dew with my Mum this weekend (both of us wore it in the past) and we agreed that it is a reformulated shadow of it’s former self. That said, Knowing and Cinnabar are still projection beasts of the highest caliber. Knowing is an epic mossy/woody/aldehydic chypre, well worth a try if you love Mitsouko/Aromatics/Paloma Picasso etc.  At £39 for 30 ml of EDP and 100 ml of body lotion this is the one that I shall be hunting come January.

Acqua Di Parma: As always, are gifting us their full range of fumes in a quirky hat box style presentation with 75 ml tubes of shower gel and body lotion for the price of the just the perfume. £78 from all the big stores and online at Escentual. Grazie!

Other sets of note this year come from Cartier, Bottega Venetta, Carven (who have re-released the superb Ma Griffe in a pretty new bottle), YSL, BVLGARI, Guerlain and Hermes.

Now, get yourself on ebay, flog anything you can live without and start re-spending!

Review: Ormonde Jayne, Ormonde Woman - The Witch's Brew

Have you ever contemplated a link between perfumery and witchcraft? I presume it depends upon what your perception of witchcraft actually is/was. I’ve long held a fascination with the concept of ‘the witch’, indeed hailing from Lancashire, my county was famed for the notorious Pendle witch trials in the early 1600s.

A rather romantic depiction of the witches of Macbeth

Witchcraft was feared as an unholy power, an ability to charm something/someone, enabling it to flourish or to wither, or to cast some personal wish. This was thought to be achieved by some sort of devilish incantation, the aid of a ‘familiar’ (often an animal spirit form such as the ubiquitous black cat) or the use of a magic potion formed from all manner of herbs and voodoo-esque ephemera.

Ancient medicine relied upon the potent power of herbaceous plants to aid recovery. Nicolas Culpeper’s ‘Complete Herbal’ of 1653 gave ordinary folk advice about how to treat common illnesses with easily foraged indigenous plants, a practice that had been going on for many hundreds of years before the book was published. In the Complete Herbal, in addition to treating physical ailments, plants were also recommended to treat ailments of the mind or soul, much in the same way as they are used in contemporary aromatherapy and psycho-aromatic perfumery. Next time you spritz Penhaligon’s Lavandula consider Culpeper’s advice upon the lovely herb:

“Two spoonfuls of the distilled water of the flowers taken, helps them that have lost their voice, as also the tremblings and passions of the heart, and faintings and swooning, not only being drank, but applied to the temples, or nostrils to be smelled unto”

So it doesn’t just smell nice, it can also sort out untimely swoons and histrionics in the presence of your beau.

Equally, as plants could be used to heal, they could also be used to bring about demise. With no such thing as forensic science, a down trodden and abused wife could be rid of her violent husband with the careful administration of a poison over time, “Belladonna apple pie my love?”

Frequently it was the job of a woman to act as the village healer, midwife and general wise sage to whom others could turn to for help. It’s no wonder that during the religious confusion and superstition of the middle ages, she could be thought of as ‘against god’ in that she held the power to give or take life. As Europe was transformed into a superstitious and religiously vehement place during the Protestant Reformation of the 1500s, the practices of a healer would no doubt be under scrutiny as devilish activity.   

My own maternal grandmother would have no doubt been tried as a witch with her use of folklore remedies. My mother’s coughs and colds were kept as secret as possible as my grandmother’s primary remedy for this ailment was to wrap her chest in brown paper smeared in goose fat, a grim cure. In her cellar brewed great vats of wines, dubiously created from anything, be it elderflowers or potato peelings. Containing curious detritus and cloudings they were possibly as poisonous as they were intoxicating!

Witches were thought to be able to create a potion, a substance capable of bewitching a person to an ultimate aim such as making them fall in love becoming fevered with amorous intention.  Dsquared borrowed this idea to market their line of ‘Potion’ fragrances, suggesting that the wearer become infallibly attractive as if under a spell. Dior of course utilized the idea of a witchy liquid in the creation of ‘Poison’, hinting at the notion of a dangerous seduction, the dark power of a woman. The apple shaped bottle recalls the poisoned apple that bewitched Snow White, the curse of a jealous vengeful hag. It’s glass was of a deep amethyst, a colour associated with spirituality.

Those who’ve read Patrick Suskind’s fictitious novel ‘Perfume’ will remember the protagonist Grenouille’s grand feat of magic as he seduced the crowd of bloodthirsty folk assembled to witness his execution. With an application of his masterpiece perfume (created from the skin secretions of beautiful young girls), he turned himself from murderer to angel, bewitching those who sought his death into a writhing mass orgy of heaven sent love. 

Which brings me to my favourite fragrant witch’s brew, Ormonde Jayne’s Ormonde Woman.

Linda Pilkington, Creative Director of the Ormonde Jayne line looks nothing like a fairy tale witch, with her expensively tailored clothes, bright eyes and lush mane of hair, she is a far cry from a hooked nosed hag. However, as a creator of potions she is a fine witch indeed.

Ormonde Woman, is a forest scent, loaded with earthly pleasures. It is reminiscent of being deep in the woods where the sticky saps and resins come forth from trees and bushes to grace the air with a pagan whiff. The dominant note here is grass, softened by a magnificently earthy vetiver. Indeed if Ormonde Woman holds the bewitching power of a love potion, the carnal act will most certainly take place outdoors, there are no satin sheets for the witch’s brew. This is ‘knickers full of ferns’ stuff.

A frolick in the woods

Grassy chypres can be a little cold and astringent but this one projects warmth from it’s ambery base, again adding a sensuality to the already heady concoction. We tend to associate a ‘sexy’ fragrance with the inclusion of grand indolic notes of tuberose or jasmine, perhaps amped up by a dose of animalic musk. This is the opposite. Ormonde Woman’s jasmine is barely traceable, in fact I can’t smell it. I imagine it simply serves to round off a little of the astringency of grass. We don’t need flowers, what could be more arousing than the smell of the forest, where all manner of life abounds in the flourishing vegetation?

The scent is famed for the inclusion of a rare note – black hemlock (or Tsuga). The word hemlock itself connotes witchcraft, as we associate it with ‘poison hemlock’ or Conium maculatum. This herbaceous plant, when ingested in high quantities causes death by paralysis, ultimately leading to respiratory failure, a fine way to see off your accursed enemy! I’d like to see IFRA contend with that one.. Luckily, black hemlock is an entirely different plant, in fact it’s an entirely harmless tree from the conifer family. I couldn’t possibly tell you what it smells like as the woody/grassy notes blend seamlessly into a harmonious brew where nothing ‘pokes out’ as unusual.

So dear readers, what is your opinion? Have you cast a love spell with your fragrance? Or do you use scent to evoke a spiritual meditation? I’d love to hear your thoughts..

If you’ve enjoyed reading this article why not use the ‘subscribe by email’ box on the right hand column to ensure that you never miss a fragrant post. Alternatively, you can hit ‘like’ to receive regular updates at:

https://www.facebook.com/odiferess

Penhaligon's Douro, Eau de Portugal, Review: A Traveler's Solace

Some weeks ago I blogged my thoughts about Penhaligon's very clever and somewhat tongue-in-cheek marketing campaign. They rather liked it. 

Following publication of the post, I was asked to guest write a piece for their own journal. I chose to write about Douro, Eau de Portugal and pair it up with my memories of living in the Portuguese port wine capital - Oporto. Here it is:

http://www.penhaligons.com/douro-the-travellers-solace/

The Scent of British Spirit, Part 1: Penhaligon's and The Reinvention of Heritage

Is there a ‘British spirit’ in perfumery? With so many of our fragrances originating in France, why are so few home grown? A possible answer is that we, as a nation, are less avid fragrance wearers than our European neighbours. Within my own social circle and family there are folks who would only don a spritz of fume when making preparations for a night out, rarely bothering with scented adornments as part of their daily wardrobe. It simply isn’t a National obsession unless you count the hoards of teenagers sporting the latest celebrity concoction (although the online presence of the niche fragrance community has sparked a recent wave of interest that appears to be growing rapidly). 

Another feasible answer could be that the source of many perfumery ingredients originate in France, with floral absolutes abounding in Grasse and innovations in synthetics being created by companies such as Firmenich.

Whatever the reason, we associate the notion of ‘French’ perfume as being essentially, luxurious, sometimes decadent and of exceptional quality, essentially – the best.

Despite the seat of fragrant power reigning in France, I believe we do have our own identity in Britain. I see our industry as falling into two distinct territories: The first of these being ‘The Historics’ e.g. Penhaligon’s, Floris and Grossmith who can be thought of as creators of fine fragrances and toiletries, each with at least one Royal Warrant and over one hundred years of trading. I imagine this is how tourists who adore our Royal Family and travel to see Big Ben view Britain i.e. steeped in history, class and tradition.

A friend hailing from my teenage years came from a ‘posh’ family. On her ornate Victorian dressing table sat a great many fragrant hand-me-downs from her stepmother. Amongst these were Penhaligon’s Bluebell and Lily of The Valley by Floris. Both scents remind me of Sarah’s grand house and the rather stuffy atmosphere of Middle England. That said, taking a bath with their decadent oils and lotions was quite wonderful.

The second category could be considered ‘The Indie Spirit’ where independent perfumers have created small lines with limited distribution and the DIY ethic that comes with the lack of major commercial backing. Britain leads the world in the indie music scene with bands on tiny labels creating masterpieces of originality appreciated by ‘real’ music aficionados. Likewise, small indie fragrance companies such as Miller Harris and Ormonde Jayne and really small lines from Ruth Mastenbroek and Sarah McCartney of 4160 Tuesdays have gained cult status, with the last two being stocked by London’s ultimate retail shrine for fume junkies – Les Senteurs. In itself Les Senteurs reeks of indie spirit. With it’s delightfully playful atmosphere, hugely knowledgeable sales staff and enormous range of quirky fragrances, it’s absolutely opposite to Harrods snooty rarefied atmosphere. If I lived close to London I’d probably visit weekly and most definite beg them for a job.

In part 1 of this exploration of British scent, I’ll discuss Penhaligon’s and ponder the enormous shift in marketing and mood. Part 2 (coming soon) will take a look at Grossmith and Floris and the idea of ‘the scent of royalty’. Part 3 will reveal the DIY-ers and their contribution to the world of niche.

Part 1: Penhaligon’s

Established in 1870, Penhaligon’s is one of Britain’s oldest perfumeries. Although concessions exist large stores, Penhaligon’s boutiques exist in towns associated with wealth, heritage and tourism such as Chester, Edinburgh and Cambridge in addition to plentiful London locations. As the proud owners of two royal warrants, they have historically traded as a luxury brand for those with an appreciation of heritage and quality raw materials. I can hear you yawning. Stifle the boredom and read on as change has occurred..

At some point recently, a very clever thinker has turned Penhaligon’s from ‘posh shop’ into ‘niche Brit darling’. Their website states:

“Our fragrant adventure began in the Victorian era of decadence and carries us into the future as we strive to create original scents for the discerning eccentrics of today. True modern dandies and bold women who are proud to go their own way. .” penhaligons.com

In essence, this means that they are holding onto their quality products but having a great deal of fun poking fun at the notion of heritage and poshness (yes, I know that’s not really a word but I am a Northerner and it means something to us). Embracing the daft manners of stuffy old Britain, they have injected a huge dose of humour into their marketing and encouraged customers (who might now be ‘commoners’ who simply love perfume, the chaps and chappettes who appreciate a little comic eccentricity) to get involved with social media and communicate via reviews and commentary on the website.  

Some cheeky snippets of smelly fun currently gracing the website include:

Perhaps my favourite tongue in cheek touch is the ditching of stars to indicate popularity. Instead they have a star rating with moustache icons, genius!

 In addition to the shift in mood, there is a change in the actual products. Classics such as the infamous Bluebell or the magnificent eau de cologne – Douro will remain eternal. However, perhaps influenced by sister company L’ Artisan Parfumeur, the fragrances are becoming much more artistic and brave. Employing the services of highly creative perfumers such as Olivier Cresp and Bertrand Duchaufour, the fragrances are moving into distinctly niche territory.

If you take a tour round the Penhaligon’s website, there is much to play with for the ardent fume junkie. Each scent’s page delivers plentiful information including detailed note descriptions and historical information. The ‘journal’ area is an intimate blog that invites us into their world, a welcoming place, even offering us ‘stories’ (see new release ‘Vaara’ for a video and wonderful drawings from Duchaufour’s own sketchbook). As a Penhaligon’s customer, you feel connected to the products, as if you know them without even smelling them. I imagine that more companies will try to emulate this intimacy as it definitely builds curiosity and enchantment.

My sample set included a range of scents from the historic to the new. Here are some of my impressions:

Penhaligon’s most popular historic scent is the 1902 creation, Blenheim Bouquet.

Blenheim Palace

“An aristocratic citrus, dry and aromatically anchored with woods and lavender, Blenheim Bouquet takes it inspiration from the iconic Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire, the ancestral seat of the dukes of Marlborough whose illustrious descendants include Sir Winston Churchill.” Penhaligons.com

With references to royalty, power and the implication of genteel masculinity, this scent certainly possesses the aristocratic heritage that we find in traditional British perfumery. But can it be worn by a Guardian reading, left-leaning, feminine (ish!) fume junkie such as myself? Yes, despite my long standing ex art school ethics I can ‘posh-up’ and accept the snooty whiff with great enjoyment. This is how it wears:

Initially, a prominent lemon and lime note effervesces, providing a citrus stimulant in the tradition eau de cologne style. Underneath lies a peppery sharpness that complements the refreshing top notes of the scent with a little longevity. Further into it’s wear, a markedly natural combination of woody herbaceous notes mingle together to give an oddly ‘savory’ feeling. Within this savory blend are clear whiffs of lavender, pine and rosemary and although they aren’t actually there, I also smell thyme and oregano, with an atmospheric nod to Mediterranean cuisine. I don’t really smell any muskiness as listed in the base, nor any hint of warmth or sensuality. Although it’s not amongst the most exciting scents I’ve smelt, it’s certainly a great ‘classic’ masculine that would be appreciated by those who adore Guerlain’s Vetiver or any in the manner of ‘clean and natural’.  

More symbolic of Penhaligon’s quirky new identity, is the delightful Sartorial. Created in 2010 by the much revered Bertrand Duchaufour, this fragrance is appealing to both my nose and my appreciation of creativity in story telling. I was amazed to see that they sell Sartorial scented 'beard oil' and thought of the trend for fulsome beards amongst Manchester's young Creative community. It would make a fabulous gift for an arty chap who I imagine is probably one of Penhaligon's current target market.

“Sartorial is a contemporary interpretation of the fougère family of fragrances, a line of rich masculine scents tracing a lineage back to the original Fougère Royale made in 1882 by Houbigant. In Sartorial, the classic fougère notes of moss, tonka bean and lavender have been exquisitely stitched together with woods, leather, violet, honey, musks, ginger and black pepper. The thread running through Sartorial is beeswax, echoing the blocks of wax each thread is run across before stitching. This sweet smudged note ties together beautifully cut notes designed to create the perfect illusion of a tailor’s workroom – metal shears, steamed cloth, tobacco-tinted cabinetry, tailor’s chalk, dust and vintage paper patterns.” Penhaligons.com

Appropriate to the brand, it references history (Saville Row and the British tradition of gentlemen’s tailoring) and adds some contemporary quirk via the inclusion of the olfactory imagery of tailor’s tools. It’s not just PR blah, you can genuinely detect the metallic facets of shears, the laundry-esque sensation of a hot iron searing steam into fabric and most prominent of all – the beeswax. I use natural beeswax for candle making, in here I can smell the wax as it liquefies at melting point, a warm and almost ‘muggy’ smell as if it’s animalistic scent is smothered by heat.

On my skin, the lavender and tonka/coumarin notes reside with equal billing amongst this waxy whiff. Leather additionally has a very brawny presence which renders the scent rather sensual. Towards it’s closure, a sweet, almost gourmand nuance is apparent with tonka and honey welding into gloopy delight. It does, without doubt, remind me of Faberge Brut, the most memorable Fougere for my generation. Before you baulk at ‘Brut’, try to ignore the memories of your Dad’s ablutions and ponder what it actually smelt like. It was good, damn good! Sartorial however, is a much subtler interpretation of the Fougere. Imagine that Brut is a full orchestra reaching the clanging crescendo of a gung-ho marching composition, Sartorial is the part where all the other instruments fall silent and the wood wind section delivers a cheeky scamper through the melody.

To further highlight the contrast between the ‘old and new’ of Penhaligon’s, take a look at the packaging of their beautiful samples. On the reverse of Blenheim Bouquet, we see two icons signaling formal royal warrants. Whilst on the reverse of Sartorial we see a continuation of golden waxed thread leading to a tiny sewing machine. Sartorial clearly carries connotations of conceptual perfumery with a hint of humour and a great deal of creativity – exactly what we’d expect from Duchaufour. 

I chose to talk about the more masculine side of Penhaligon’s here, partly because they are very good at men’s scents (I think both detailed here are a moustache too far to be considered gender neutral) and partly because I haven’t had the opportunity to delve my nose into many of those suitable for sharing or feminine wear. 

In summary, my preconception of the brand's stuffiness has been thoroughly shattered. I look forward to trying Vaara, their new oriental release which promises to be a romantic oriental in the contemporary style i.e. More ‘travel’ than ‘Victorian tour’. 

The King is dead, long live Penhaligon's!