Forget me Not : Diva by Ungaro

It is the third Monday of the month, which means Fragrance Bouquet and For the Love of Perfume are writing about yet another classic. For this month’s feature, TMH and I have chosen Ungaro’s Diva, a perfume that I have for a while been craving to see reviewed by dear TMH, as it is so close to her heart. I only discovered Diva a couple of years ago myself and am glad for it, as I do not see it nearly as often any longer. It is not that Diva is hard to find – it is in fact widely available and rather cheap at perfume discounters. But when it comes to local perfumeries, Diva is slowly being replaced by better selling fragrances. I do understand why – the shelf-space is limited and the fragrance market is rather oversaturated with new releases. Choices have to be made. It is a sad day though, when a beloved classic is being replaced, its space on the shelf taken over by yet another fruity floral.

Created by Jacques Polge, Chanel’s third Master Perfumer and current nose, Diva launched in 1983 and was succeeded by two different flankers, Fleur de Diva – a fruity floral- in 1997 and Divas – a woody musk scent whose notes sound absolutely delightful- in 2000. A child of the eighties though it might be, Diva does not have the quintessential powerhouse-fragrance feel many of its contemporaries have. The name in this instance is rather misleading: this is a much more subtle and ladylike floral-chypre scent, that oozes class. The opening is almost sour, full of vintage ambience. Quickly the aldehydic top notes amplify the sharpness of coriander and bergamot, imparting a sense of fizzy greenness on the skin. Once the initial “sourness” dissipates, Diva goes through a short stage in which it is quite reminiscent of Paloma Picasso with which it is very often compared – although I feel I must add that Paloma Picasso has more depth and feels much more layered. Even though there is no leather note in this scent, it is in this stage too that I get a definite impression of leather, a soft crack of a whip that stings oh, so sweet. The middle stage of Diva’s development is in turn a beautiful floral heart, with no traces of Paloma Picasso’s strong profile left and the cracking of the aforementioned whip all but a distant thunder. At first, the most prominent and easily picked-out note seems to be the gorgeous rose, concentrated and deep, changing colors in my mind’s eye from deep red, to match the potency of its scent, to creamy champagne, matching its spirit. Soon though, my senses get not so much awakened, but actually assaulted by the powerful imagery created by the ivory bouquet of white florals. An impression so strong, so powerful, of indolic jasmine, tuberose and fleshy gardenia, slaps me in the face abruptly and I breathlessly turn the other cheek, eagerly begging for more. I speak of imagery indeed, because the occurence always manages to be eerily visual. Diva’s mossy base is apparent from the beginning, but as the heart notes slowly fly off, the oakmoss becomes truly inebriating – chypre lovers will swoon with joy. This is a lovely, musky, mossy drydown, which makes excellent use of a thyme-honey accord. The effect is utterly lovely: beautiful, honeyed oakmoss with a hint of beeswax that makes me want to rub my nose against my own skin like a kitten. Those that enjoy Ivoire’s mossy drydown but wish it was a little less single-minded and a little more elaborate, are sure to love Diva.

Images: www.punmiris.com and http://commons.wikimedia.org

Forget me Not : Ivoire by Balmain

It’s the third Monday of the month and it is time for the first installment of Forget me Not, a monthly feature brought to you by Fragrance Bouquet and For the Love of Perfume. I wish I could offer some deep, meaningful justification on why I chose Ivoire by Balmain to be the first fragrance featured in this joint project, but I have to admit I cannot. It is not a choice that emerged after thoughtful contemplation, juxtaposing of reasons and ideals. It was instead what seemed like the only choice, for once I thought about this feature it was the first fragrance that came to mind and there it remained, with willful persistence. Despite my best efforts to veer into a different direction, it kept popping up in my thoughts in the same manner a pink elephant would, were I to try to banish all thoughts of pink elephants for the next five minutes. I have to add though, that I am deeply pleased with the fact that Ivoire enthroned itself in my thoughts and refused to leave, lest I sound like an unwilling participant. Ivoire does not deserve to sit on the bottom shelf – it deserves eye-level status in the shops that still carry it.

Its opening is soapy, effortlessly evocative of large soft hands washed with the most luxurious, ivory bar of soap. Cool, soothing and silky, these are the hands I wish to have holding my face when I need comfort. Even though the scent is clean and asexual at this stage, my mind’s eye interprets this as a paternal, caring touch. And even though the soft, clean smell of soap is so emphatic that I have trouble seeing it change to anything else, it is surprisingly ephemeral. Suddenly, not progressively, Ivoire intensifies, shedding its innocent purity. Like a chrysalis, it goes about its metamorphosis - from quiet simplicity to the complex beauty of an adult butterfly. It becomes free-spirited, fleeting and romantic at the same time: A young adult venturing into her first real love affair, still finding true commitment unthinkable. The purity and chastity of the soap now serves as a backdrop to the spicy green, intense interest of the labdanum. And as time passes by, we enter a world of florals, almost all soapiness passed by. A coming of age. Seduction is no longer clumsy, but deliberate, using all nature has to offer. Carnation holds court on a bed of assorted blooms, a scepter of black peppercorns in hand. The naturally redolent ylang-ylang plays a quieter, supporting role to its queen of choice, lovingly caressing the carnation’s dainty toes with its aromatic, golden tendrils. Muguet enhances the beauty of both with its truthful elegance. This time the change is more gradual. The florals are muted slowly, one by one, until only the memory of the carnation survives. It is strange that this, the last stage Ivoire enters is also its most intense. Unlike its inflorescence, it has refused to become muted. Instead, it grows in spirit, becoming the most beautiful mixture of earthiness, resin and moss. The moss is magnified, announcing like a Diva that this whole production was there for her to play the starring role. And this outrageous claim is actually not that hard to believe, gorgeous and glorious as she is. This drydown stage is very reminiscent of Ava Serena Franco’s own Moss fragrance, which I also love, by the way. And what has become of the emergent chrysalis, entering adulthood? She has learned how to seduce, but has she learned how to love with fervor? Perhaps she has indeed, but we will never know. Ivoire is not giving away the ending to that story, just a glimpse of a stage in her life. It is tantalizing, yet still aloof. It lacks the musk or leather that would make it a sexually active beast. But that’s alright by me: Ivoire remains a promise, a possibility. In my mind, there is no doubt that this is a fragrance that tells the story of resplendent youth – so eloquently it describes innocence and the tune a heart sings when it really falls in love for the first time. It is so optimistic, as though maturity and the responsibilities and consequences it brings with it are light years away. As far away in fact, as they indeed seem to youthful arrogance. For the cynics amongst us, this can be heartbreaking.

To see which perfume TMH has chosen for our Forget me Not Feature, please visit For the Love of Perfume.

Images Courtesy of: www.ycsznet.com, butterfly image from StarJem’s webshop on Etsy