A Serov painting of the Tsar’s court.
There really aren’t many perfume makers I trust myself to these days. I am afraid of boredom, and ugliness, or of being the recipient of a giant headache from an overdosed ingredient. I don’t want to smell a “lily” which smells nothing like a lily- as I did recently from a trendy brand which had obviously never gone near a garden in its life. I won’t name names, but suffice it to say that I could not cream the ersatz lily off fast enough.
That particular brand is not alone. There is far too much awful out there. So it’s a relief when you find that a few brands do know what they are doing and actually do it well. Parfum d’Empire is one. Continue reading
Some people like to wear flowers from pinterest.com
Going through my perfume cabinet the other day (which I do every spring just as the mole in The Wind in the Willows took up a brush with a sigh and whitewashed) I noticed a gap. Perfumes come and go with me, so my collection seldom exceeds twenty bottles, and sometimes gaps open up.
Many of my choices are emphatic perfumes, things which are uncommon for one reason or another. I suppose this is the pitfall of collectors, they just can’t resist anything out of the ordinary. However that means that I don’t own much which is a no brainer. The versatile enjoyable scent is notable by its absence on my shelves, which leaves me with a quandary every once in a while.
Chanel as a company understands this concept very well. They never produce a perfume which is too extreme, too dramatic, or too topical. The idea is to make classic fragrances easy for consumers to get accustomed to, in fact fragrances that become habitual. Continue reading
Della Robbia Angelic Choir from pinterest.com
Many people seem not to like Creed. So many that I find myself hesitating slightly to claim that a Creed actually was a masterpiece. Creed has been around longer than Guerlain, though they did begin as a tailoring concern in London, offering one cologne with the suits, rather than as purveyors of pomade.
The story of Angelique Encens confuses me slightly. The formula is supposed to have been composed in 1933 for the Bishop of Paris. So says the sometimes unreliable Wikipedia, but many people claim that, Angelique was made for Marlene Dietrich. Hm. There is even one poster on Fragrantica who says it was the preferred perfume of Pope John Paul II. I wonder about that since he was rather austere and who can imagine him spritzing or dabbing vestments or anything remotely similar? Continue reading
Parrot tulip from pinterest.com
You would think-wouldn’t you- that tulips would be a little higher on the radar of perfumers than they are? There is Byredo’s La Tulipe, there is Il Tuo Tulipano from Hilde Soliani and not much else.
Well now I have some good news for tulip lovers. I smelled Neil Morris’ Rainflower and that does come as close to tulips as you are going to get currently. Now to a lot of readers Neil Morris may seem like a detour off the Guerlain or Dior or Lutens highways, but he really is a very talented man, and some of his perfumes are surprising. Rainflower is one that knocks me for a loop because the smell is so real. The story behind the scent is that Morris was visiting London and stopped to see Kew Gardens in spring when it was raining. Shortly afterwards the sun came out and this glorious smell of fresh flowers is what he caught and tried to recreate in Rainflower. Continue reading
something you don’t come across every day. Dailymail.UK.com
You know it’s a funny thing, most of us, plus the media, plus critics, even academics, like to say that we admire originality. That is to say that we do, very much, so long as we can see how that originality sold in the 18-49 demographic last year? Also, was that gross or net? We love originality- just so long as someone else has done it first.
This means that you will almost never smell an original perfume. They’re too risky to sell. Supposing the public doesn’t like them? The same goes for any number of new products, but trust me on this one, if you’ve smelled thousands of perfumes you know original ones are extremely rare. Continue reading
Dorian as physical perfection on a summer day.
Some writers set the scene of a novel with visuals, others like to give us a sense of how their characters feel, as in the ghost’s cold little hand at the beginning of Wuthering Heights, but Oscar Wilde decides at the very beginning of The Portrait of Dorian Gray to tell us how things smelled.
“The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses,” the novel begins,” and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate scent of the pink flowering thorn.” It’s a very odd way to begin a novel. Possibly Wilde felt that if you know how a place smells you know automatically how it looks and that a long description is therefore unnecessary.
Instead Wilde continues his olfactory description. Lord Henry Wotten is lying on “Persian saddlebags” which implies a smell of old wool, and is smoking cigarettes, so a nicotine haze blurs this atmosphere. Through the open door come more flower fragrances, laburnum in bloom, and the flowering woodbine, which are just other names for gold chain trees and honeysuckle. Continue reading
The coup de foudre isn’t common even with perfumes
There is a quote about perfume, and for the life of me I can’t remember to whom it’s attributed, but the translation is, “Perfume should be like love, it should strike a person from the very first contact.” Which is a pretty fair description of infatuation.
This is one of those experiences perfume lovers are always on the lookout for and enjoy inordinately when they do happen. How often though does it really strike? In my own case I have to say very few times.
Victorian looking soulful and wearing a sapphire.
Winterhalter is the painter
Sometimes the Victorians are good fun. Not intentionally fun, you understand because they took themselves pretty seriously. They’re fun in the sense that they are always jostling one another to take home first prize in the propriety contest. That competition was such a feature of the 19th century, “I’m really much more respectable than you dear.” The losers were not respectable, and their behavior was not in good taste, or “not for common consumption”, as my mother used to say.
Well it seems that Victoria herself came in for some criticism from those dreaded taste doyennes of the 19th century: parisiennes. You see the queen had musk in her perfume. Continue reading
From The dailymail.com.uk A reconstruction of Arcimblodo’s Spring
It appears that I have not done a “list” post in a very long time. I really hate to do these at the end of a year, but once in a while there is a little space and time to do one and if you can’t re-live rose perfumes in February-when can you?
They do some pretty good best of lists over at Perfume Posse, but I am a fuss pot about roses because I grow so many, and like my perfumes to be really evocative of the real thing, thorns and all. So no Stella, no Diptyque Eau de Rose (only rosy for five minutes anyway- subsequently dryer sheets) and I find the Early Roses of Teo Cabanel to be too timid . If you want exhaustive lists of the real thing Undina’s Looking Glass has a really long one. Continue reading
The edge of our pond
There is a definite shift in the season here. Connecticut has those four clearly demarcated seasons and this one is the transitional, the rainy, the mucky, the still cold but the light is brighter, the sap is running one, we have a name for it: mud season.
This should be a little more shoe and less wellington boot, but the fact is that I have spent the last several weeks cutting brambles out of the garden. This is not a pleasant job and generally has me battling something very long and spiny which then manages to work thorns into jeans, shirts, scalps, wrists and fingers no matter how plasticated and tough the gardening gloves. I really do find this season irritating from a purely epidermal point of view. Continue reading