Amandes Orientales by Montale : Perfume Review & Decant Draw

Back in summer, I promised you a review of Montale’s Amandes Orientales. Although I never forgot about it, I have sort of been putting off reviewing this amazing fragrance for a silly, yet common (for me) reason: When I love a fragrance this much, I tend to wait for that perfect day to review it, the day that I know will help me do it perfect justice. With an ever more hectic schedule ever since I returned from my vacation, that perfect, calm day seems farther and farther out of reach. At the same time several of you have been mailing me asking for almond recommendations and wondering about this particular Montale, so it seems this review cannot be put off any longer!

Now, if you are expecting a straightforward gourmand, you won’t find it here. And if you are craving after a simple, comforting almond-vanilla combination (as the official note listing on the Montale website might lead you indeed to expect), I’m afraid you won’t find it here either. What is Amandes Orientales then? It is nothing short of a groundbreaking, edgy gourmand that breaks the sweet/comforting mold and one that is far more complex than the simple note listing would have us think.

Even though Amandes Orientales does develop over time, it does not follow the classic top-heart-base pyramid construction.. The opening is tender, a touch of powder on a precious swan’s down puff. The nutty scent of golden-roasted almonds emerges almost immediately, urged forward by a creamy wave of ground-almond paste that is good enough to eat. But what you don’t expect is the improbably realistic, deep floral bloom upon which these nutty, gourmand almond notes rest. Heady and warm, the unfolding floral scent is that of a gorgeous bouquet of grand lilies. I wish I knew enough about lilies to specify the type, but in order to describe the scent I will refer to two different perfumes: Donna Karan’s Gold and Hermès’ Vanille Galante. Despite these two scents both featuring a very intense lily note, this is not the lily scent employed here. Both Gold and Vanille Galante feature a lily scent that is rather unnatural, cold, almost metallic and very obviously aquatic. The lily in Amandes Orientales is instead incredibly warm and carnal, very much the scent of lilies I’ve smelled in gardens and bought from florists. It forms a complete picture: the beautiful, narcotic, improbably beautiful scent, the yellow pollen on the stamens, the dizzying, sticky nectar. Most importantly, it imparts an intense sexually charged vibe to the perfume with its highly indolic nature. This entirely unexpected pervasive eroticism is what renders this perfume the most unique gourmand I’ve ever experienced. Its wanton animalic nature is incredibly provocative, but at the same time, being rendered through an exquisitely feminine floral note, it remains dashingly elegant and tasteful. A beautiful, confusing contradiction, Amandes Orientales is a fervid, lusty, almost pornographic temptress dressed in the most polished, stunningly affluent ensemble. And how can you not fall in love with a contradiction like that? It is simply masterful! The scrumptious almond elements and the voluptuously aphrodisiac floral epicenter are both enfolded in a marvelously dark, highly concentrated vanilla absolute. Its tendrils are almost sticky (but never overly or obviously sweet) and beautifully underscore the toasted nature of the almonds with their lightly smoky, inky character. This is a gourmand like no other.

I am offering a small decant of this stunning, unique eau de parfum to one reader. Anyone who posts a comment in this entry becomes eligible for winning the decant in a draw. Winner to be announced in a week’s time, next Wednesday.

Images: Unripe almonds, Flickr by ReefRaff. Lily via sxc.hu

Starring…! Fragrances (Part 2): The Diva & Almond White Cake Reviews

On Monday we took a look at Starring… Fragrances’ philosophy, website, services and their sweet body products. As promised, today we’ll conclude the in depth-look in this niche line with reviews of two fragrances.

I was sent two samples to try (one oil-based, one alcohol-based) and I am very happy to report that not only does the scent of the perfumes correspond to exactly what you’d expect from the descriptions (playful, fun, exuberant indie scents that are very faithful to the listed notes) but also that the quality is of high standards, with clear evolvement, great lasting power and excellent projection. Too, if you do not like oil-based scents have no fear: all available fragrances are also offered in alcohol format as well. Before getting on with the reviews, I also have to say that I was very impressed with how highly concentrated these perfumes are - I’d venture that they are at least EdP strength.

The first perfume I tried was The Diva, belonging to the Leading Ladies Collection. This absolutely incredible gourmand presents such a life-like explosion of notes to the senses, it had me travelling down memory lane. Growing up, my favorite cake of all was Black Forest Gateau and it still remains my number one indulgence. As a child my mom was bemused by my choice (“How prosaic, darling..!”) and the occasions when I could actually convince her to buy it for the house or for friends was rare. Perhaps due to the craving left unsatisfied I have developed an extreme fondness for this confectionary delight and stubbornly (but with great satisfaction!) serve it at each and every one of my birthday celebrations ever since I can remember. The Diva unfailingly delivers the most realistic rendition of Black Forest Gateau in its top notes (The boyfriend declared “I don’t know if it smells like perfume, but I want to eat you!” and that’s good enough for me!). The genius of Black Forest lies in the combination of devilishly rich chocolate and cool sour cherries. The function of the sour cherry freshness is of course to cleanse the palate of the luxurious chocolate and to keep it from overwhelming. This is exactly what happens with this perfume: beautiful, lavish, bittersweet chocolate is tempered by the fruity freshness of cherries and is rendered luxuriant by a dose of Kirsch spirit, just as in the real deal. As the fragrance evolves, delightful red, fresh strawberries peek through the lashings of chocolate, slowly replacing the cherries. Again, the fruit is incredibly realistic. Raspberries, the freshest, most aromatic and pungent of berries start showing through even further down the line and will continue to accompany the darker scents far into the drydown. The chocolate itself becomes progressively calmer, till it reaches a stage that it is no longer perceptibly edible but takes the form of deep, dark cacao. At this point, the base notes truly shine, with a moist, earthy patchouli taking center stage, caressed by musk and subtle hints of rose petals. The deep drydown finds the raspberry and patchouli becoming ever more abstract, leaving an aromatic, dark feminine whisper on the skin.

The White Almond Cake might be listed on the site under the “Single Note Scentsations” category, but in reality this is a non-linear scent with its own evolvement. It starts out with delightful, intense bitter-sweet Amaretto and goes on to reveal yummy butter-cookie dough infused with orange peel and light hints of cloves. Mmmmm! The bitter almond scent is so convincing and strong, it is a huge surprise that the scent evolves past that, but evolve it does. The almonds get progressively subtler and softer, all the while caressing the skin with their nourishing, comforting scent. Soon, a sugar accord manifests, glazed and positively edible. I am not sure if all readers will be familiar with what I am about to say, but the scent mimics the scent of candied almonds exactly! No, I am not talking about the white bridal sugared almonds, I am talking about the candied roasted almonds with the delightfully crispy crust. Yum! As strange as it sounds, White Almond Cake manages to capture the crunchy, sugary/nutty scent and project it over a bed of cream. As time goes by, the scent becomes milkier (and ever more comforting I might add). Adding incredible warmth, cinnamon blooms on the skin and stays strong, lively and spicy to the very end, over a golden brown, sweet ambery accord. This might be completely out of season now, but it will make an incredible, festive holiday scent. I crave to wear this when it’ll be snowing outside.

Images: www.starringfragrances.com, flickr by mwri, flickr by busymommy, www.notenexpres.nl & Flickr by 00dann

Harem by LR : Perfume Review

It feels a bit like skating on thin ice, choosing this perfume for review: in some ways it can be seen as a (*gasp*!) dupe, it is neither mainstream nor niche, it has limited distribution and it is offered by a brand most people likely have never heard of. I’ve never been one to conform however, and I truly love this perfume, so here we go!

LR is a direct marketing company – meaning you cannot buy their products from brick-and-mortar stores but only from registered LR “consultants” (the LR equivalent I guess of the better known Avon Lady) as well as the internet as of late. The company started up in 1885 in Germany, but quickly started expanding all over the world. Currently their products are available in 30 countries world-wide, including Australia, New Zealand and The Philippines. I first discovered their perfumes at a beautician’s office, where a black box of samples was displayed. Naturally, if a little sheepishly, I started opening each tiny phial for a quick sniff and even though I was doing so rather hurriedly (I felt rather guilty going through them without supervision, but was completely unable to resist the siren-call of unknown perfume) I still managed to register that within the sea of ho-hum, so-so and downright-awful scents, there had been a little gem, completely different than the rest. I was soon ushered in for my appointment and promptly forgot all about the little gem and its uglier siblings. But it does seem like some things are meant to be. More than a year later, I smelled a fantastically erotic, patchouli laden perfume on my best friend, after she returned from a trip to England. When I asked her for more details begging her to get me a bottle next time she went to London, she told me that it was given to her by a friend and that the friend had gotten it from a direct seller. Even worse, the friend had not bought it in England, but in Cyprus. And then one of those strange things happened: the puzzle pieces came together out of nowhere, and quite unexpectedly the penny dropped. Bizarrely, my mind made the connection with extreme certainty and no proof whatsoever: What I was smelling on my friend was the very same little gem I’d found at the beautician’s office… My beautician must have been an LR consultant. Even more surprisingly perhaps, I was right. On a bright Saturday morning this past Christmas I bought a bottle and since then, I’ve managed to drench half of its contents. Quite a feat, considering how many bottles of perfume I own.

The little gem is called Harem and it is a copycat, clone, wannabe, dupe or whatever you wanna call it of the ever influential, already widely-copied Angel. Yes, yes, I can’t believe I fell for that either. But I did. Hard. Released in 1994, two years after Angel had turned all the tables, dethroned all the perfume beauty queens of old and secured its success on the market, Harem snaked itself into the newly-opened niche and has faithfully remained a best-seller for the company that cleverly capitalized on the Mugler money-train. Not sufficiently different from the original monster to be accredited the same respect as a unique scent (see for example Lolita Lempicka), Harem still deserves attention. Why? Because it is Angel for the ones who cannot wear Angel itself! If you like/admire Angel in theory, but can’t wear it due to its obnoxious, in-your-face character, you’re going to love this. If you wish you could wear Angel, but get a splitting headache from it, you’re going to love this. If you find yourself distracted by the always attention seeking Angel every time you wear it and need something that is just that little bit quieter, kinder to your psyche, you will be able to wear this. If you are looking for something that is just as erotic but rather less vulgar, this is it. (As a side note, I used to loathe Angel, but I actually love it ever since I’ve had my little patchouli revelation moment. Still, I do prefer Harem.)

Harem opens with juicy, sweet mandarin orange notes tampered with the bitterness of bergamot and will continue to hover above the border separating decadent sweetness and adult bitterness for most of its development. Its bittersweet character is incredibly seducing, bringing to mind all manner of delights meant to be enjoyed by adults, rather than children: pure bitter chocolate, amaretto liqueur, bittersweet almond paste and marzipan… In fact it is not hard at all to conjure these images, since they all manifest as aspects of the perfume itself as it evolves. The juiciness of the sweet citrus fruit runs dry as the top notes fly off, and we are left with the sparkling oils of the rind, smothered in bitter pure chocolate and its toothsome milk counterpart, wickedly flavored with caramel accents. The patchouli, already present and prevalent from the very moment Harem is applied, becomes absolutely central in the heart notes and is incredibly gifted to boot: never dirty, never mildew-y, never earthy, this is a gorgeous rendition of the note. The best way to describe Harem’s patchouli would be to liken it to a sensual embrace, so round, sweet and warm it is. Yes, it is still as loud as its roots predispose it to be, but somehow it holds back, as though having perfectly learned the game of first grabbing one’s attention and then playfully falling quiet until the victim is reeled in closer. Wonderfully, the scent becomes ever nuttier as time goes by: specifically its already sensual combination of flagrant eroticism and gourmand comfort is underscored by the many faces of almond that start caressing the skin. Bittersweet almond essence, raw almond, soft almond paste and a few sinful drops of amaretto all combine with the extravagance of vanilla-patchouli and chocolate, making the skin positively edible. Here and there, I get wafts of cherry as well, the perfect complement to the creamy, nutty almond. Hours later, Harem becomes magnificently powdery, a beautiful angel-dust whisper on the skin. In fact, the powdery drydown is so gorgeous, I wish it was a scent of its own just so I could enjoy it at will.
Despite its low price-point (23 euro for the EdP), Harem most definitely does not smell cheap. Too, I have to add that despite my own extensive comparison of it to Angel, I should not omit the ways it is different: Harem is all about the gourmand patchouli as is Angel, but its patchouli is far less aggressive and far more round and smooth. Another major plus point, is that it has a far more perceptible development, with clear stages that keep the interest alive. Lastly, even though the two fragrances run parallel at first, from the point the almond blend makes its appearance Harem begins to diverge and differentiate itself. The greatest difference is of course the beautiful powdery drydown, a direct consequence of which is that spraying on the clothes will lead to a much more subtle fragrance (instead of a hostile takeover) when the garments are returned to the closet.

Harem can be bought online from the LR webshop or directly from LR Consultants in your area (you can request for a representative close to you by visiting your country’s page from the official website, provided of course that LR is doing business where you live…)



UPDATE:

:::IMPORTANT NOTICE:::

LR, the company that makes Harem has changed this perfume beyond recognition. Please do not rush to order it based on this review which was written about the original version of this once beautiful perfume. You can find out more about this by clicking here.



Images: Harem ad and bottle, www.lrworld.com/, gold panning, www.whoisdimak.com, diamond in kimberlite, www.scienceclarified.com and dew on clover, titled “diamond in the rough”, flickr by diongillard

L’Instant Magic by Guerlain : Perfume Review

Our body is very clever in telling us what we need to eat to keep healthy: craving a particular food is often our body's way of nudging us to eat that particular something that has been missing from our diet. But what about cravings for a particular perfume? Do you ever get those? Why do they happen? As strange (or indeed as ridiculous a notion) as it may sound, I do often feel that my body lets me know what it 'wants' or needs to smell. My daily perfume choices are not always guided by logic, but often by little pangs of scent-specific hunger: "I need something with patchouli today" or "I need to smell vanilla". Aside from notes and accords, I also find myself craving a certain family (a gourmand, a chypre...) or even a particular perfume, sending me to rummage in my sample bags for the matching little phial.

During these past 3 weeks of intense exam preparation and endless studying I found myself once again experiencing perfume cravings of unprecedented intensity. It all started out with a generalized craving for a gourmand scent with a hefty dose of vanilla, but nothing I had handy seemed like it would do. Serendipitously, I decided to do a side by side comparison of the original L’Instant which I already knew I hated, with the newer L’Instant Magic, a sample of which I had I recently received with a purchase. Ten minutes later, the original absolutely had to be scrubbed off as usual, but the flanker was pleasant enough to stay, if not immediately interesting enough to grab my attention and hold me in its thrall. Quietly and unassumingly however, it worked its...magic, hitting all the right spots. It was exactly what I needed, what I was craving for and didn’t yet know. I got so hooked on this little beauty, I felt I had to have some on my skin every day while studying. That first sample didn’t make it through the week, and I had to nicely ask the dbf to “Please, please go get me a sample” twice, as if it was laced with crack.

So what’s L’Instant Magic like? Delicious, seductive, comforting and exactly the type of thing I normally wouldn’t give the time of day to, especially since it is most definitely not what I expect from a Guerlain. Even though it is supposed to be a completely different fragrance from the original L’Instant, its lineage is surprisingly easy to discern. It is as if there is this very obvious red thread running through it, unequivocally connecting it to its sister: That powdery floral character that is L’Instant’s signature, threads itself like a precious vein through L’Instant Magic making it instantly recognizable as a member of the family once it is discerned. But whereas it is this very same characteristic I find oppressing and deeply uncomfortable in the original, I find myself being seduced by it in Magic. This time it is rendered lightly, with an air of improbable femininity and has the softness of a caress. The fact that it is only part of the supporting cast and not the star makes a huge difference as well. Finally, I can appreciate it. But truly, the best thing about L’Instant Magic is its incredible almond-vanilla combo that has brought me to the brink of addiction. It manages to do something that very few gourmands can: through its amazing warmth and sweetness, L’Instant Magic still manages to somehow sparkle with bright effervescence. The result is that while it retains all the seductive, mysterious characteristics of an oriental and all the bubblegum-vixen traits of a gourmand, it is also cheery and carefree. Most importantly, even though it is very clearly a comforting, linear scent, its genius lies in the fact that it retains an abstracted quality that makes it veer far away from ever becoming foody. Instead, it remains both feminine and sophisticated in character.

Heliotrope : Two Sides of the Same Coin

Opinions seem to be split down the middle when it comes to heliotrope. Some love it and seek its warm, comforting scent, while others hate it with a passion, reporting aversive reactions to it. Rarely are there any indifferent comments to be found when it comes to heliotrope scents. But that is a good thing, isn’t it? Something that sparks such intense emotions, whether these belong to one side of the continuum or the other, is surely worth a second glance!

Heliotrope, otherwise known as tournesol or turnsole, derives its name from its tendency to move with the sun. The many varieties of this plant are popular with gardeners for their heavenly scent. Blooms are most often white or lavender colored, and yes, there is a difference in scent: The purple colored shrubs emit a fragrance most often reminiscent of almondy vanilla or cherry pie, while the ones that bloom in white emit a fragrance which has been likened to baby powder.

My two favorite heliotrope perfumes are Etro’s Heliotrope and L.T. Piver’s Heliotrope Blanc. They are very different, yet both are charming and well made. Etro’s Heliotrope is as straightforwardly close to what people have learned to expect from heliotrope scents as can be. The opening is intensely almondy, instantly reminiscent to me of the bitter-almond essence my mother used to flavor the dough of the traditional baked goodies she used to make for Christmas. The very recognizable, Play-Doh quality that most haters of heliotrope scents despise soon follows, I’m afraid, but for those of us that love the smell this is a good stage, bringing back pleasant memories of innocent childhood play. And true, Play-Doh is not what you want to smell of when you are all dressed up for an evening out... But what about the times when you just want to de-stress at home, or one of these hectic mornings we are all bound to have from time to time? I’ll admit that this youthful reminder has helped me shut the world out a number of times while rushing to do the day’s shopping in the crowded city streets. The drydown is just as wonderfully comforting, or perhaps even more so, with gourmand, cookie-like notes of vanilla that feel warm and tender, enveloping the skin in baked goodness. The only drawback of this scent for me is that lasting power is not its strongest point.

L.T. Piver’s Heliotrope Blanc is definitely my favorite of the two, and I must say, the huge price difference makes this all the more pleasant! Heliotrope Blanc’s almond opening is much creamier than Etro’s, lacking the bitterness of the latter. It feels more natural too: instead of almond essence, I am left envisioning picking a yet unripe almond straight from the tree, still in its velvety green casing. There is a lively freshness to it and a nutty flavor Etro’s offering lacks. Once warmed by the skin the fragrance becomes sweeter and it is this sweetness that I find so attractive. Its character remains soft and gentle however: this is a semi-transparent, loving sweetness that wishes to caress. It never becomes cloying or heavy. Heliotrope Blanc is also gently floral, but while the official notes report jasmine and ylang ylang, I am completely unable to pick them out. These are both heady scents and Heliotrope Blanc is anything but. Instead, its tender floral undertones seem to me just an accent, like a distant memory whose meaning is forgotten, while the emotions related to it remain, making the heart beat a little faster each time a piece of the image’s puzzle floats into consciousness. The drydown combines a baby soft, faintly talcumed effect with a delicate balsamic feel, making it at once comforting and rather sensuous at the same time. I am reviewing the Eau de Cologne, I have to say, but the lasting power is excellent. This is a fragrance that wears close to the skin, but will linger and surround the body for hours.

As always when I review a hard to find fragrance, I offer a sample of Piver’s Heliotrope Blanc to one of the readers. Let me know in a comment if you would like to be entered in a drawing for this large 3ml spray sample.


Images: Photo & Artistic interpretation of Sunflower by Sakis Alexiou, Image of Kourabiedes (the baked sweets I was talking about) and macaroons from Flickr – originally uploaded by l&coolj, image of Heliotrope Blanc bottle from www.piver.com