Carven – Ma Griffe

Carven – Ma Griffe

mini_ma-griffe-carven-6546

My eyesight is very poor, a circumstance which at times provokes sheer panic at the thought of not being able to read, which is essential in my line of work and my life as I know it. When asked which of the five senses they would give up, people are often quick to sacrifice their sense of smell without taking into consideration the impact this would have on their lives. Aside from the obvious lack of scents, flavors would be gone as well. Think of how many scent-triggered memories and associations you treasure: the smell of a loved one, autumn, holiday cooking – these would all be relegated to the territory of imagination. Indeed, life would take on a flat and somewhat frightening existence, since we often perceive things with our nose well in advance of our eyes.

Imagine how much more terrifying this loss would be if one’s passion and livelihood depended upon it. At the time perfumer Jean Carles created Ma Griffe, he was largely anosmic. Anosmia is condition whereby one loses their ability to perceive odors. Let’s put aside the fact that if any of us tried to create a fragrance with no sense of smell it would probably resemble kerosene, but the fact that this man created a beautiful and unique fragrance is astounding and a testament to his abilities as a perfumer.

The French term “ma griffe” is literally defined as “my claw”. While the fragrance would later be repositioned (both in its chemical composition and its advertising) to fit this definition, it was initially portrayed with the more subtle, figurative translation of Ma Griffe, namely “my signature” or “my label” as in a designer’s label. Ma Griffe was launched in 1946 by the design house Carven. Madame Carmen de Tommaso, Carven’s founder, was a proponent for innovative clothing, meant to suit women in their everyday lives and the house’s “signature” scent clearly reflected these sensibilities.

My main experience of Ma Griffe is of the vintage, and while this does possess an intense, green burst of galbanum and citrus in its opening (I felt I could almost see the green) it quickly offers brief, veiled glimpses of the soft, mossy heart that is to come. Ma Griffe in its original form is not the talon-bearing sabertooth alluded to in later advertisements which depict a woman’s hand clawing deep marks into a man’s back. While its composition and character are assuredly memorable, Ma Griffe is more like a playful feline which gently rakes its nails over your arm and then proceeds to arrange itself cozily in your lap.

While the heart notes feature jasmine and rose, this is by no means a sweet fragrance. More prominently featured are dry and warm facets of iris, musk and oakmoss. Even the vetiver, labdanum and sandalwood take on a tone which is more mossy than woody. While most mossy fragrances offer the impression of rain-soaked forests, Ma Griffe feels more like a walk in the forest on a dry day, when the soaring oaks and ma griffetheir mossy inhabitants are warmed by the sun and give off a dry, slightly powdery musty odor. If you are not a fan of oakmoss or musk, this may be a challenging fragrance. While its character is not overpowering, it is certainly distinct. For me, this fragrance takes me back to hours spent exploring the forest behind my house, in search of magical creatures both real and imagined.

Unfortunately, Ma Griffe has been repositioned into something of a bargain basement fragrance due in part to regulations regarding the use of oakmoss, in addition to financial considerations. The current incarnation plays up the more “aggressive” factors of the fragrance and has unfortunately all but destroyed the velvety drydown. While I cannot recommend the reformulation, I find the original to be exceedingly unique and would wear it more often if my supply of it were not so limited.

Floral chypre

Notes: gardenia, greens, galbanum, citrus, aldehydes, clary sage, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, vetiver, orris, ylang ylang, styrax, oakmoss, cinnamon, musk, benzoin, and labdanum.

Guerlain – Chant D’Aromes

Guerlain – Chant D’Aromes

chant-daromes21Chant D’Aromes was the first solo creation of Jean-Paul Guerlain after the retirement of his grandfather Jacques. Chant D’Aromes was released in 1962, before much of the social and political upheaval which would come to define the era. The name, roughly translated as “Song of Scents” is especially revealing for me, because within Chant D’Aromes, I detect the seedlings of all of the magnificent creations Jean-Paul would cultivate throughout his illustrious career. If Aime Guerlain was innovation, and Jacques contemplation, Jean-Paul would soon prove to be flirtation.

While overall, Chant D’Aromes gives the impression of a light-hearted floral bouquet with rich peachy undertones, within the opening notes, I detect the slightest sharpness that would be the unforgettable introduction to Chamade. As the seedlings begin to unfurl out of their sharp green hyacinth cases, the radiant fruity warmth of what would become Nahema is apparent. Chant D’Aromes also has a slight animalic note that would re-appear in many of Jean-Paul’s creations, subtle enough not to cloud the overall innocent impression of the composition, yet an unmistakable nod to the scent of the woman whom these flowers adorn.

While Chant is a lovely fragrance in its own right, it conveys all of the exuberance of youth not yet tempered by long years of experience. Chant is jubilant and smells of a celebration, as though Jean-Paul was able to distill a thousand disparate thoughts about love and perfume and harmonize them into a glorious nectar. While his later fragrances would achieve a level of sophistication comparable to that of his predecessors, Chant is a beautiful creation that captures the excitement and passion of a young man in love. This by no means is meant to imply that Chant is an amateurish creation – on the contrary, Chant D’Aromes reflects a level of craftsmanship that surpasses many of the perfumes available today.

chant_daromes_color_ad I am fortunate enough to have vintage versions of the extrait and eau de cologne which are similar in character, with the eau de cologne being slightly more powdery. I have not sampled the most recent reformulation, but understand that it bears a closer resemblance to Chant D’Aromes than prior attempts.

Floral Chypre

Notes: bergamot, mandarin, peach, tuberose, ylang ylang, , gardenia, honeysuckle, jasmine, helichrysum, iris, cedar and sandalwood, musk, oakmoss, frankincense, vetiver, and tonka bean.

Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle – Iris Poudre

Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle – Iris Poudre

iris

Iris is one of my favorite perfume notes, so I am constantly seeking out fragrances where it is prominently featured. The 2000 launch of Iris Poudre taught me, however, that not all irises are created equal. Indeed, Iris Poudre, while undoubtedly lovely, is not very iris-like, nor does it contain much poudre (French for powder). The nose behind this fragrance is Pierre Bourdon, the man behind behind such classics as Yves Saint Laurent’s Kouros, as well as Feminite du Bois in collaboration with Christopher Sheldrake.

Several have drawn comparisons between Iris Poudre and Chanel No 5, however the aldehydes in Iris Poudre are more evanescent than the sparkling champagne bubbles of Mademoiselle Chanel’s iconic fragrance. Where No 5 is crisp, Poudre is shimmery. While the iris becomes more prominent in the heart, it feels overshadowed and is rendered almost fruit-like by the presence of ylang-ylang, magnolia and jasmine. Absent from Iris Poudre is the metallic tang of iris or its deep, earthy root smell. While the fragrance takes on a delicate, fluffy warmth in the drydown thanks to some delicious, nearly edible amber and musk, I found that the absence of the ghost-like aspects of iris gave the fragrance a slightly two-dimensional feel. A serious contender, but unfortunately not the winner for the top iris fragrance. iris poudre2

Notes: Bergamot, Orange, Rosewood, Ylang-Ylang, Carnation, Magnolia, Jasmine, Muguet, Violetta-Rose, Aldehydes, Iris, Musk, Amber, Sandalwood and Ebony.

Revlon – Fleurs de Jontue Iris de Fete

Revlon – Fleurs de Jontue Iris de Fete

lavender-iris

In order for a perfume to be truly appreciated, it must always be viewed within context. Similar to the world of fashion, perfume styles change, at times in conjunction with the tide of cultural sentiment, but often at the hands of those searching for the next big commercial success. While perfume releases hit department stores these days at breakneck speed, a healthy level of competition has always existed between perfume houses, making them seek out innovative ways of promoting their wares. While few self-respecting perfumistas would dream of buying fragrance in a drugstore these days, after WWII and continuing until the 1970s, it was possible to purchase Chanel No 5 at the local five and dime.

Founded in 1932 by brothers Charles and Joseph Revson, along with chemist Charles Lachman, Revlon entered the world of beauty through an innovative nail enamel product that would ultimately pave the way for what became a multi-million dollar corporation, allowing the group to expand into cosmetics and eventually perfume. Revlon’s first commercial success in perfumery came in 1973 with the launch of the iconic Charlie, which quickly became a bestseller. Revlon followed up its success with the launch of Jontue, which became the number two bestseller for the company. While Revlon initially sold fragrances in departments stores as well as drugstores, the group struggled against giants like Estee Lauder and chose to focus their efforts on the lower-tier retail market.

While still a relatively new phenomena at the time, Jontue was followed up by three variations under the Fleurs de Jontue moniker. These flankers were Fleurs de Jontue Rose de Mai, Lotus de Nuit and Iris de Fete. The original Jontue, which was launched in 1976, was a floral fragrance balanced with a touch of oakmoss and musk. The three flankers each emphasized different floral notes and could be purchased with the original Jontue as a gift set.

nd.9146

Iris de Fete opens with a sharp green note, which initially seems a bit artificial. This opening quickly fades, however, and the fragrance’s character immediately softens. At its heart, Iris de Fete is fairly close to an iris soliflore, a fragrance based on the scent of a single flower. While a touch of Lily of the Valley is detectable, it only serves to lift the powdery softness of the Iris. The fragrance is somewhat understated, and the dusty quality of the iris is enhanced by a touch of light musk later in the dry down, giving the fragrance a bit of warmth.

Despite the subtle presence of these other notes, it is evident that they are there to highlight the star of the show: the iris. The fragrance has a polite sillage, but the lasting power is relatively good. Iris de Fete and its sister fragrances pop up every now and again on Ebay and at some internet retailers. While Iris de Fete might not stand up in a competition against iris-heavy presby_iris_new_jersey_originalhitters Chanel La Pausa from the Les Exclusifs line or Guerlain’s Apres L’Ondee, it is a lovely, light, and affordable fragrance that calls to mind the beauty of Springtime and the innocence of youth. It is by far one of my favorites drugstore finds and never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Floral

Notes: Green notes, iris, lily of the valley, musk

Charbert – Ambre

Charbert – Ambre

0f4a638ffea13b0d2039fad26d1ff28f

One of the challenges of vintage perfumery involves researching brands which have not survived the test of popular sentiment. Every once in a while I will stumble upon a fragrance for which I am unable to get much background on, both in terms of its composition or information on the house that created it. When the fragrance is as unique as Charbert Ambre, it can be especially confounding, as there is no explanation for why this house closed its doors, leaving this unique creation all but lost to time.

According to Nigel Groom’s New Perfume Handbook, Parfums Charbert was founded in 1933 by William Gaxton and Herbert Harris. The firm, which was based in New York, produced both perfumes and cosmetics for the middle market of American consumers. The firm had a trademark drum shaped flacon (see photo at right) which housed many of its perfumes, including Ambre. Ambre was released in 1940 and by all accounts, Charbert ceased operating approximately twenty years later in 1963.

Ambre starts off with a soapy, green opening somewhat reminiscent of Lucien Lelong’s Tailspin. These are not the soapy aldehydes of a Chanel No 5, instead, Ambre’s opening feels like the precious little soaps that one sets out in a guest bathroom to give visitors a sense of luxury. Unlike other “green” openings, Ambre feels neither overly sharp or medicinal, coming across instead as fairly soft and warm. The true beauty of this fragrance however lies in its heart and base, which reveals a warm, vanillic amber, soft and velvety smooth. The base reveals subtle hints of spice and woods, but they serve to round out and deepen the amber, without competing for dominance.

20454-charbert-perfumes-1945-fabulous-bauman-greene-hprints-com

For those accustomed to bold amber fragrances such as Serge Lutens’s Ambre Sultan or even L’Ambre des Merveilles by Hermes, Charbert’s interpretation may seem somewhat tame. The fragrance features an average sillage and longevity, making it suitable for wear in various situations and occasions. This makes it an amber fragrance uniquely suited to the Spring and Summer months, when this fragrance category can feel a bit stifling. If anyone out there has more background on Charbert, I would love to hear about it.

Amber Oriental

Notes: Green notes, aldehydes, vanilla, amber, spices, resin, woods and musk.

Christian Dior – Diorella

Christian Dior – Diorella

If Diorella had a face, it would be the exquisite beauty of Jane Fonda in Roger Vadim’s 1968 sci-fi, B-movie masterpiece Barbarella. Both reflect a beauty which is disarming, innocent, sensual and yet somewhat strange. Dior released Diorella in 1972, yet another masterpiece created by Edmond Roudnitska.

barbarella_green

Diorella first tempts you with the freshness of lemony greens rounded out with a touch of melon and floral notes, giving the opening a hint of ripeness. Were it to end there, Diorella would have been an attractive, linear warm-weather fragrance, perfect for after a shower. But as is often the case with great beauty, Diorella has an underlying complexity which must be experienced if its beauty is to be fully appreciated.

Regardless of how many times I smell the opening, I am always surprised by a sense of underlying strangeness just beneath the surface, not unlike smelling an approaching storm before one feels the first drop.  As the top dissipates, a savory note of basil begins pushing toward the surface, which seems both out of place and brilliant, hinting at the richness of soil which lies underneath. Diorella is not unlike a flower blooming in reverse, its petals collapsing onto themselves and rolling up into the stem, which then plunges below the surface back into its damp, musky bulb. Diorella takes its time unfolding, each layer becoming increasingly sensual as the earthiness of oakmoss and vetiver settle down into the warmth of patchouli and musk.

If Diorella had sisters (or daughters perhaps), for me they would be Calyx Prescriptives and Cristalle for their green ripeness and Ma Griffe for its mossy magnificence.diorella

Chypre

Notes: Lemon, Peach, Basil, Bergamot, Melon, Green Notes, Honeysuckle, Jasmine, Violet, Rose Bud, Carnation, Cyclamen, Oakmoss, Vanilla, Clove, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Musk, and Patchouli.

Hermes – Jour d’Hermes

Hermes – Jour d’Hermes

brussels

Park in Brussels – Photography by Quintessence

One of the things I love most about Europe is the prevalence of fresh flowers. While the climate where I live is warm nearly year-round, I am always surprised and cheered by the commitment to the floral arts on a continent where the weather is less conducive to plant growth. And yet flowers can be found everywhere, from gorgeous public gardens where one can sit for hours admiring the well-manicured arrangements to open air markets where one can stroll at leisure and select an armful of blooms to grace a hallway table. The emphasis on this simple and portable form of beauty appears to be everywhere. I find nothing more satisfying than setting out on foot to explore a city and coming across an intimate little flower shop, where one can admire the shopkeeper’s beautiful arrangements and take in the aroma of dozens of blooms in close quarters.

petunia

Flower Market in Bruges – Photography by Quintessence

It is this joyful, celebratory sensation that Jean-Claude Ellena has captured in Jour d’Hermes, where we are treated to not one, but a flowershop full of scents. Ellena is truly the master of understated complexity, and his latest release does not disappoint. Jour d’Hermes is at once crisp and velvety, dry as silk and wet as moss. Upon first application, I expected Jour d’Hermes to be a fleeting floral, and yet this diaphanous beauty has an impressive longevity. It wears close to the skin which feels appropriate, for the fragrance conveys a certain sense of intimacy.

According to Denyse at Grain de Musc, Hermes and Ellena purposely withheld a list of notes to allow each wearer their own experience and interpretation of the fragrance. Jour d’Hermes is at once no flower and all flowers, an imaginary bouquet of luminosity. From my testing, the fragrance offers the zest of lemon, the green bite of lily of the valley, the powder of rose, the depth of jasmine, the darkness of ivy and the sweet, soapiness of orange blossoms. And just when I have become entranced with the lightness and innocence of this arrangement, Ellena pulls off a masterful deception and reveals a deeply sensual base.  Though it’s been a while since I fell for a bottle, the weightiness of this flacon feels simply decadent, elegance as only Hermes can deliver.

Floral

Jour d'Hermes

Notes: Be inspired. Let your imagination run wild!

Rochas – Femme

Rochas – Femme

rochas-femmeIt is said that Grasse in Southern France is the farthest point north at which jasmine can grow. As a result, the jasmine from the region is reportedly shorter in stature than most varieties, but the quality of its fragrance is more potent. While none of us inherently enjoy hardship or strife, it is sometimes under the pressure of external forces that humans manifest their most inspired creations.

The 1940s were an era characterized by conflict the likes of which the world hopes to never see again. While the decade was largely dominated by WWII and its aftermath, the latter half of the decade also saw several civil wars, struggles for independence and the Arab-Israeli war.

While the citizens of the world lost much of their former innocence during this time, they rebounded with sweeping advances, evidence of the strength of the human spirit. The United Nations was born from the ashes of the ineffectual League of Nations and huge advances in science were achieved. The 1940s saw the advent of computers, nuclear power and jet propulsion. On a more mundane level, new inventions such as Velcro, television, Tupperware and the microwave oven all appeared on the horizon, changing the way we would manage our lives forever. Abstract Expressionism was born, as we struggled for a way to re-conceptualize our world. The ravages of war were too sharp not to be felt, and life needed to be viewed through a new lens if any sense was to be made at all.

There were, also during this time, acts of sheer beauty. Edmond Roudnitska created Femme in 1943, in the midst of the ruins of war-torn Paris, then besieged by German occupation. It is supremely fitting that Femme was created in what is arguably one of the most beautiful cities in the world, at a time of extreme and powerful emotion. It is as though the fragrance embodies all of the intensity of its time.

TN_Femme8903

Femme speaks of the beauty of a woman in all her facets, the sublime, the sexual, the beautiful, the bold and the vulnerable: because every woman is each of these things. Femme is at once elegant and provocative, but above all expresses a respect and reverence for woman. It is a beautiful and emotional fragrance which conveys a certain vulnerability as well. It is as though Roudnitska was able to read the soul of a woman in all its complexity and distill it into a plush, velvety essence. I am deeply moved every time I smell it and am inspired by the spirit of the man who sought and created such beauty when the world seemed intent on revealing its basest qualities.

Femme has a warm enveloping presence, often likened to the smell of warm skin. Despite a spicy floral opening, the most prevalent note throughout is plum, which is harmonized and softened by wood and musk notes. While Femme conveys the richness of lush, ripe fruit, it does so in a manner strikingly different to the overly-sweet interpretations common in modern compositions. This is the spicy fruit of winter, not the syrupy, sugary fruit of summer. The scent is that of a woman, not of a girl. The depth of the composition is what I find most striking. While the sillage is potent, it is comfortable and yet I always have a three-dimensional experience of Femme. I can almost see it wafting, rising from my arm as one sees smoke rising from a high tower.

Note: Femme was re-formulated in 1989 by Olivier Cresp, the nose behind Thierry Mugler’s Angel. Part of this reformulation included the introduction of a cumin note in the opening over which there has been much debate. While I prefer the original Femme and guard my tiny vintage bottle like a treasure, I do also enjoy the peppery spark that cumin lends it. There has been much speculation over why the formula was changed in this manner. Some surmise it was a desire on Cresp’s part to bring Femme into the present and make it once again memorable and provocative. I can only offer my own impression and interpretation. The first time I smelled Shiseido’s Feminite du Bois, I was delighted to find the outline of Femme, now transformed into a woman of the eighties. A bit leaner, a bit drier for the years, but still magical. Feminite du Bois is silk where Femme is velvet. The first time I tested the reformulated Femme I was reminded not so much of the original Femme in the opening (though I find more similarity in the dry down) but more so of Feminite du Bois, as the cumin renders the overall composition drier and thinner than the original. And so the reference comes full circle.

Chypre

Notes: bergamot, peach, prune, rose, immortelle, jasmine, ylang-ylang, ambergris, musk, oakmoss, sandalwood. Femme may be purchased from many online discount retailers, as well as certain stores. I acquired my vintage version on Ebay.

Serge Lutens – A La Nuit

Serge Lutens – A La Nuit

mode, architecture, beautŽ,

I live in an area where the climate is predominantly hot and humid year-round. While this robs me of certain pastimes and limits my ability to fully indulge in my winter fragrance wardrobe, access to the outdoors I have in abundance. One of my greatest pleasures is evening walks through my neighborhood, where I am often accompanied by the sweet, heady scent of night-blooming jasmine. The sillage of natural jasmine is unbelievably potent, its indolic fragrance lingering in the air long after I have passed its source.

mode, architecture, beautŽ,

Jasmine adds a sense of surrealism to the night, stealthily appearing out of the darkness, a presence which becomes nearly palpable. Jasmine also evokes a bit of melancholy, as the tiny buds which were so tightly bound throughout the day unfurl come nightfall to reveal their gift, only to expire in the process. The scent we experience occurs at the end of the cycle for the flower, the nectar it releases serving as a call for renewal and rebirth by pollination. It is fitting then that the dense, sweet scent of jasmine can often suggest a hint of decay or decomposition. It is this tangible, poignant quality of jasmine that Serge Lutens and Christopher Sheldrake capture so skillfully in A La Nuit.

While jasmine as a note is commonly used in perfumery to lend a rich, velvety quality to a fragrance, a jasmine soliflore is quite another thing altogether. If you do not enjoy jasmine as a singular note, then please read no further, for A La Nuit is surely the quintessential jasmine fragrance, with an opening so true to the flower that it almost resembles an essential oil. In “Perfumes: The A-Z Guide”, Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez refer to A La Nuit as “death by jasmine”. For me, the fragrance represents instead “death of jasmine”. Lutens perfectly captures the beautiful, ephemeral nature of this flower, from the moment of its opening bloom through its eventual expiration, rendering it in ample, sweeping strokes.

serge-lutens-a-la-nuit-lg-1Lutens and Sheldrake sourced high quality jasmine of Moroccan, Indian and Egyptian origins, combining them with green notes to render a three-dimensional floral presence. The opening is intense, even for a jasmine enthusiast and holds nothing back, much like the actual flower reaching its tendrils of scent through the night air.

A La Nuit remains tenacious and potent for close to two hours until little by little, the fragrance begins softening, like the embers of a dying fire. The overripe, spicy sensation begins dissipating, only to be replaced with a warm, slightly floral base that hints faintly at musk and Lutens’s signature amber, giving the fragrance a subtle woody character.

Like many of Serge Lutens’s fragrances, A La Nuit appears to be a narrative, written in scent which tells of the beauty and eventual dissolution of jasmine. While A La Nuit is the story of a flower, I cannot help but think that Lutens is conveying the reality of the human condition as well, its fragility and transience.

Floral

Notes: Moroccan, Indian and Egyptian jasmine, green shoots, white honey, benzoin, musk and clove

Diptyque – Eau de Lierre

Diptyque – Eau de Lierre

Bruges, Belgium. Photo by Quintessence

Bruges, Belgium. Photo by Quintessence

“Green” is a term that gets thrown around quite a bit when it comes to discussions on perfumery. I am always amazed by the range of interpretations that this accord can have, and how uniquely it manifests in different fragrances. Green can run the gamut from fresh and invigorating to dense and mossy, and everything in between.

Diptyque’s Eau de Lierre is inspired by the scent of ivy and indeed, lierre is French for ivy. For me, this scent could easily be named “Eau de Dark Green”, as it truly conjures the deep verdancy of this evergreen climber. The fragrance was launched in 2006 by the innovative house of Diptyque and it is very much in keeping with their minimalist aesthetic. Eau de Lierre opens with a slightly spicy green note that is as true to nature as one can get without being outdoors. While some fragrances interpret dark green notes as herbal, Eau de Lierre has a distinctly vegetal character. Eau de Lierre is by no means a marine fragrance, and yet there is an overall impression of wetness. The opening feels somewhat dark and earthy, the equivalent of trudging through the garden during a light rain with a sturdy slicker and Wellies.

While the fragrance dries down to reveal a slightly woody, musky scent, the green impression prevails, making me think of the woody stems of an ivy plant that has overgrown its intended bed. The fragrance is devoid of any sweet notes, making it a good candidate for men as well as women. Eau de Lierre does not have an especially potent sillage, yet it manages to cling to the skin quite nicely. On the evening I was testing it, I still had traces of the scent on my arm the next morning. While perhaps not on par with the house’s L’Ombre dans L’Eau, creator Fabrice Pellegrin has nevertheless composed a unique and enjoyable composition which evokes the English countryside.

Bruges, Belgium. Photo by Quintessence

Bruges, Belgium. Photo by Quintessence

Green

Notes: Ivy, cyclamen, geranium, gray amber, rosewood, green pepper, musk and woody notes.