Puredistance AENOTUS - a journey to old Hollywood

Do you wish you could smell in technicolour?

I believe I have. My first spray of AENOTUS by Puredistance unearthed the memory of one of my favourite films, Hitchcock’s - To Catch a Thief. The extraordinary ability of scent to link the olfactory sense with the visual burst in action and journeyed me from my soggy Yorkshire home to the glittering solar playground of The French Riviera. 

Last year Puredistance released WARZSAWA, a composition so opulent and grand that I described it as ‘proper’ perfume. 

AENOTUS, the latest release from Puredistance, feels like the masculine partner of WARSZAWA. It is once again a ‘proper’ perfume that feels far removed from the masses of trend led industry releases of recent years. 

Jan Ewoud Vos, Founder of Puredistance, briefed Perfumer Antoine Lee with the creation of a signature scent for his personal wear. The scent was required to “combine freshness with long lasting sensuality”. Indeed it does, and with a profoundly picturesque quality.

Which leads me to Hitchcock's glamourous masterpiece. In this 1955 movie, Cary Grant plays a retired cat burglar, framed with a copycat crime on the sparkling French Riviera. Locations are lush and verdant, as viewed from the many scenes of Grant and Grace Kelly speeding around the cliffs of Cannes in the ubiquitous open topped sports car. 

AENOTUS evokes this landscape.

The ‘fresh’ phase of AENOTUS is exuberantly Mediterranean. Rocky scrubland peppered with aromatic sunbaked herbs, the waxy green whiff of citrus tree leaves and the lush swollen fruit growing within, the piercing cold sharpness of botanical sap and bursting buds. It’s all there, and it moves in an extraordinary rhythm. The scent doesn’t sit still, notes move in and out of focus, now you smell it, now you don’t. It’s an olfactory kaleidoscope. There is a sense of illuminating optimism, the hope of adventure, all played out under piercing radiant light. 

For a Northern European, this dazzling opening creates a feeling of otherness, so distant from our often dulled landscape that it reeks of technicolour film stock. Fully saturated escapism.

Cary Grant is far removed from the youthful male leads of contemporary movies. He represents the archetype of old Hollywood masculinity. Whilst inarguably suave, he is also somewhat dishevelled and aged. A leathery suntan colours a craggy expressive face that hints at a decadent lifestyle, a wild ride. He is deeply sexy and unashamedly masculine.

I long for a man with sock-free loafers

And this is the thing about men, they smell. No matter how freshly showered and sweetly perfumed they are, they emit a musky, slightly feral whiff. Enter a man’s bedroom and it will smell instantly recognisable as such. They are the ferrets of the gender divide. AENOTUS emphases the muskiness of masculinity. As it begins to dry down, the freshness retreats and a warm fougère-like base emerges. It is deeply mossy. Oakmoss absolute smells earthy, musky, fusty and animal. Distinctly not fresh and green, it is nature at its muckiest and most intriguing. 

In this way AENOTUS exaggerates masculinity, unapologetically creating a gentle trail of post party Cary Grant.  

AENOTUS is a complex and contradictory scent. Fresh and exuberant yet earthily sensual, vibrantly light and softly dark, freshly soaped cleanliness and morning after filth. What is intriguing about the contradiction is that it was created as a signature scent. The purpose of which is to define the personality and presence of its wearer. The most fascinating people are complex individuals who’s contrasts attract our curiosity and desire to know them.
If AENOTUS defines Jan Ewoud Vos, I’d really like to meet him…

Jan, is he a modern day Cary Grant?

Watch the trailer for To Catch a Thief by clicking here.

Thank you to Puredistance for my sample of AENOTUS. In the interests of integrity, the views expressed here are entirely my own and the post is not sponsored.

If you enjoyed reading this article, ensure that you never miss a post by using the ‘subscribe by email’ box on the right hand side. Or follow me at:
https://www.facebook.com/odiferess/

Review: Clarins - Eau Dynamisante, my eldest fragrant friend.

This Saturday was probably some sort of scented anniversary. I say ‘probably’ as I’m being a bit over-romantic - I think it’s roughly the 25 year anniversary of the onset of my dependable and satisfying relationship with Clarins' stalwart scent - Eau Dynamisante. It has lasted longer than any of my relationships with men and seen me through life stages of goth, shoegazer, raver, art school libertine, festival queen, indie kid, grown up indie kid and whatever hybrid of nonsense I am now.

I marked it by buying yet another bargainous bottle.

What makes it’s so worthy of commitment? To me, it possesses all the qualities of a traditional European eau de cologne. It offers abounding refreshment (alike most lemony colognes) but has the addition of a whopping whiff of personality, a grand charisma far beyond what you would expect from something generally squirted to offer relief from heat or fatigue.

Clarins describe it as a ‘treatment fragrance’;

“Aromatic essential oils with treatment properties (Lemon, Patchouli, White Thyme, Petit Grain and Rosemary): scent, promote a wonderful feeling of freshness, vitality and well-being”

It’s true. It does. What they neglect to say is that it also offers a sense of exoticism, enabled by truly spicy elements of cardamom, carnation and coriander seed, which make it feel extraordinarily warm after the initial lemony blast dissipates. In fact it’s almost oriental, a kind of schizophrenic scent borrowing from several genres; the earthy dry patchouli offers a serious chypre quality, the spices a heady oriental nuance, and a citrus herbal blend reminiscent of a historic eau de cologne in the manner of Guerlain or Roger and Gallet. This multifaceted feel renders it a more riotous experience than the rather medicinal marketing bumph implies.

The original invigorating eau de cologne, Jean Marie Farina

What is curious about this scent is that very few menfolk wear it. Although often criticised for being ‘too masculine’, it remains firmly in the female domain. I assume that its sales point is the problem. It takes a brave man to approach the department store Clarin’s counter. Whilst us females happily play amongst the lotions and lipsticks, comfortable in a world of feminine luxury, men can often feel a bit shifty. I’ve seen it in action. Whilst shopping with boyfriends I’ve hurried my purchases to reduce the inevitable uncomfortable bloke syndrome. I don’t understand why they fail to feel the lure of sticking their fingers in a sample pot of cream and instead stand at least a good 3 feet away from the counter looking nervous. It’s as if touching a product will make their manhood shrink (possibly permanently).

Fountain of fearsome girliness

If you can get over the fear boys, please do go and take a whiff next time you find yourself in a department store. If you adore the Blue Acqua di Parma range or the Guerlain Eau de Colognes, you might be quite smitten with Eau Dynamisante. The only negative is that (alike most citrus rich colognes) it doesn’t emit its grandness for more than a couple of hours, so if you require a long lasting scent this is the wrong genre for you. However, a gift set with shower gel, body lotion and 100 ml of fragrance costs just £32 so you can layer the products to give it a bit more tenacity.

Maybe the act of making my boyfriends accompany me to Clarins counters could be the reason why Eau Dynamisante has stayed with me for so many more years than they have. To 'Insert multiple names here', I'm sorry...

Nobile 1942 Vespri Series: A Review Of Classic Citrus

Citrus perfumes have always delighted me. They are the perfume equivalent of a gin and tonic; revitalizing, sparkling and summery. It’s no wonder that Mediterranean countries such as Spain and Italy have a tradition of utilising these notes in fragrance to counteract the soporific effects of the hot weather. 

A landscape for lemons - The Amalfi Coast

An Italian brand that have explored the citrus theme with great effect is Nobile 1942. They are not that well known in the UK, probably due to very limited distribution. In order to get a whiff of their wares we have to venture into the black lacquered perfume palace of camp that is Roja Dove’s Haute Perfumery in Harrods. I’ve been once. I felt like I was breaking into to an upmarket escort’s boudoir.

Nobile 1942 created three themed unisex citrus scents. They are: Vespri Aromatico (a citrus marine), Vespri Esperidati (straight up citrus) and Vespri Orientale (a curious oud citrus). All three are in EDP concentration and grounded in a woody base. This means that they are a lot more tenacious than many of our beloved but fleeting lemony whiffs.

Italians are not known for creative extravagance, as a nation, they tend to prefer a minimal style of cool. Take fashion.  Prada, Armani and Fendi have continually focussed on immaculate tailoring and luxurious fabrics. They do not have the ‘whack out’ factor of British maverick -Vivienne Westwood or French baroque master of excess – Christian Lacroix. On my two trips to Italy I observed a nation of unfeasibly well groomed citizens looking distinctly more ‘sophisticated’ than ‘avant-garde’. The classic Italian style was portrayed superbly in ‘The talented Mr Ripley’, a film responsible for turning actor Jude Law into a phenomenal sex symbol. For me, it was all about his bare ankles atop a classic loafer. Menfolk, this works. A flash of ankle is not just a thrill for a Victorian.

How to look cool - Jude Law style, I wonder what he smelt like?

Food is another good representation of Italian taste. The nation’s cuisine is renown for presenting high quality ingredients in a simple form. Perhaps the best pasta I’ve ever eaten was in Milan, a basic cheese ravioli dripping in extraordinarily aromatic sage butter. It probably consisted of only a few ingredients but the excellence of the ingredients was immediately evident.

Which leads me to the Vespri series. Each one is a variation on a theme – natural citrus created from the perfume equivalent of the sage butter pasta i.e. good stuff, lovingly sourced.

Beginning with Vespri Esperidati, this is a super powered ‘classic cologne’ . Think of Guerlain’s ‘Eau’ series on steroids. It’s obviously my favourite being a huge fan of this genre. As a kid, we’d holiday in Spain and Greece. This was the smell of exotic foreign men as they stepped out for the evening to promenade in much more pleasing clothing than their British equivalent. Linen and lemons basically. Lemony cologne fans need a good note descriptor to tell one from the other. There are many notes, but the ones that stand out are bergamot, lemon and petitgrain. The neroli and jasmine white floral aspect is very low key and the composition warms up towards the end on an amber and woody base.

Vespri Aromatico is a significantly more green composition with herbal notes of fennel, rosemary and juniper competing for attention with the citrus. I have absolutely no idea what the ‘criste marine’ that is listed in the note descriptor actually is. I can only guess that it’s something to do with the ozonic seaside sensation that breezes out upon first squirt. It could be described as a little mineral and salty alike iodine.  Whilst Esperidati feels truly unisex, Aromatico feels a tad more masculine to me and would make a splendid move into niche for fans of classics such as Acqua di Gio.

Lastly, Vespri Orientale links the citrus theme to oud. It is very difficult for me to be objective about this one as I find oud mostly repellent! However, it’s interesting to smell it in such a summery context, a rarity as most oud fragrances are traditionally blended with rich and oozy sensual notes such a labdanum and vanilla. Vespri Orientale is a luminous scent that sits it’s oud under a canopy of citrus top notes; bergamot, lemon, tangerine and grapefruit brighten this woody whiff and give it a much more vibrant character than I’ve smelt previously. Oddly, I smell a very distinct coriander which is perhaps what arises when you place oud in this unusual setting? I’m never going to feel adoration for this scent but I imagine that oud fans would find it both enchanting and highly unusual in a genre full of sterotypes.

Who would I recommend the Vespri series for?

• Those who would like to emit a European feeling scent, so obviously not Nigel Farage.
• Those who enjoy the scent of Mediterranean cuisine and ‘herbs in the hills’ on holiday.
• Those who appreciate a sparkling facet to their fragrances.

If you enjoyed reading this post, you may also wish to take a peek at a review of Caron’s Les Eaux De Caron Fraiche by clicking here.

A Strange Tale of Vermin Love - Lostmarc'h, Eau D' Hermine

Can you pass a skip without peeking inside?

I certainly can’t.

A couple of years ago I worked in a historic school that migrated to a new building. The exodus caused a mass ‘chuck out’ as we departed our faded but charming 1930s institution to enter a cramped contemporary design monstrosity.

As I dumped a hoard of broken ring files into one of the numerous skips, I saw a hairy little tail poking out from under the detritus. Curious, I gave it a tug and out popped a rather battered stuffed weasel. We bonded instantly. Upon questioning my colleagues, I discovered that he hailed from the 1940s when a taxidermy display was donated to the school’s Science Department.

Manky displaying his stuffing loss and ferocious teeth

The weasel has suffered years of excited teenage manhandling and a long time in forgotten storage. He was dusty, furless in places and the straw stuffing poked out from his belly. His funny little legs had become bandy and drunken after being yanked from his original stand. Despite this, he was eminently lovable. I named him Manky, apt eh? A note to my international readers – the colloquial manky means ‘funky’ or ‘dirty’.

Manky appearing somewhat more cute wrapped up in bed

Manky often wears perfume, being rather furry, his coat holds onto scent and makes it lasts for eons. This is a curious way to subtly scent my living room. He is currently sporting Comme de Garcons 2 which smells a little inky. I imagine he'd love to amble amongst the treasures of old book shops. It suits him.

I cherish weasels and indeed all of the musky mustelidae family of creatures; stoats, ferrets, minks, pole cats and pine martens. My first encounter with these beautiful beasts was in the discovery of a ferret rescue stand at a country agricultural fair. If you paid 10 pence you were allowed to hold one for a few minutes. I risked the potential of finger biting and spent several pounds and a good hour in a blissful embrace with these cuddly creatures. Although I think it was really supposed to be a treat for kids..

The beautiful stoat

I recently met up with fellow fume writer – Vanessa, the author of the enchanting Bonkers About Perfume blog. We spent a long and joyous afternoon waffling about scent and swopping samples and decants (gaining the curiosity of drinkers in the packed pub who caught thick wafts of the rare and the quirky). Amongst the decants donated by Vanessa, was a little spray of Eau de L’Hermine by Lostmarc’h. The name suggested to me that it was one of those glamorous musky creations that are designed to be worn on a fur coat, the word ermine being another name for the stoat or ‘short tailed weasel’ as it’s also known.

On the day of testing the scent I doused myself liberally and revelled in the vibrant citrus musk. As always at work, citrus scents are valued for their ability to revive my spirits in the often pungent and stale air of the school environment. Although I initially liked it, I didn’t think to save any for a review being as I’ve written plentifully on this genre. At lunchtime I emptied the last of the decant onto my skin and grew increasingly regretful as it developed into something I REALLY liked. 

Upon my return home I googled the scent and was gobsmacked to find that Eau de L’Hermine sported a rather dandy illustration of a non-tatty version of Manky running across it’s bottle. I was delighted! If ever a scent was meant for me.. I quickly emailed Vanessa and told her of my obsession with weasels and attached photos of Manky.

!

To my surprise, she emailed me back with photos of her beloved Max Rat. “ I raise you Max Rat, the 'vermin with ermine', who I take on my trips and who hails from Hamelin, of Pied Piper fame.  The local beer there is called Rattenkiller, for obvious reasons..”

Vanessa's characterful little chap - Max Rat

Max Rat travels with Vanessa on her numerous business trips and has even been known to accompany her to the odd gig. This pleased me. I felt that perhaps I wasn’t so alone in my love of an old dead stuffed weasel (charming as he is). The fact that she is over attached to ‘not alive’ verminous pet somehow seems to lessen my own eccentricity.

I won’t review Eau de L’Hermine as Vanessa has done it so eloquently here, plus, I’ve run out!

Read Vanessa's article by clicking here.

Enjoy. 

Photos of the delightful Max Rat kindly supplied by Vanessa, photos of Manky daftly posed by myself. Reckon it's a blogger thing?

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?