He Wood by Dsquared2 : Perfume Review

I was fairly impressed with Dsquared2’s first fragrance, a 2007 masculine release titled He Wood. Despite my good impressions of the scent I never got down to actually reviewing it, but with the brand’s newest release She Wood now out in the shops, I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. Today we take a look at He Wood, and come Friday we’ll explore its counterpart, the feminine She Wood.

Dean and Dan’s first fragrance, He Wood, reflects their love of their native Canada and draws inspiration from the country’s gorgeous nature, making wood the focal point. I love the bottle, which I find elegant in its unique simplicity and intriguing with its eye-catching asymmetry (the stopper is placed off-center). The square glass container is completely framed by Canadian Red Alder wood, which makes it wonderfully tactile as well as renders every bottle unique due to differences in grain and hue. Now, on to the juice itself: The top, middle and base notes are conceptualized as air, water and wood accords respectively, and each is meant to represent different characteristics. The Air accord is purity and sensuality, the Water accord is freshness and fluid energy, while the Wood accord is seen as pivot, the fragrance’s true personality. Reading this might lead you to think that He Wood goes through very distinct phases, with each of the accords unfolding almost independently over time. This however is not true. The woody base notes, namely light, sweet vetiver and smoky, distinctive cedar run through the composition from start to finish, like the skeleton around which the rest of the fragrance is fleshed out. Around these woody notes we find the presence of velvety, smooth sweetness in the opening. The official notes list Silver Fir, Vegetal Amber and Musk, but I struggle to pick out any of them individually. What I get the beautiful, aforementioned gentle sweetness, a light musky presence like a naked body under an overcast sky ready to pour down. The ambery note is intensified for just a brief moment in time, giving us a taste of resin before subsiding in the moisture that quickly makes its arrival. The watery notes found at the heart of He Wood are subtle and careful. There is enough freshness there to appease the average male shopper, but not quite enough of it to make the more discerning niche-lover turn up his or her nose, so to speak. Most interesting is the way the light watery accord blends so perfectly with the intense powdery scent of violets, effectively translating the relationship between water and air that always seems to be playing around the core of wood. Bizarrely, the smoky, dense character of cedar is silenced in the drydown in favor of an ever-intensifying steely cold vetiver note that smells and feels metallic. This is a very evocative perfume, which is extremely successful in its attempt to match the scent with the ad copy. The wearer will have no trouble ‘seeing’ the images painted by the perfumer, and even finding themselves starring in the fantasy of the Canadian woodland, as lone figures unafraid of the dark and pregnant with rain clouds overhead. The whipping of the hard rain on naked skin, the rich smell of the woods, all have a macho appeal - however the genius of He Wood is that this is always set against the sensitivity of musky sweetness and the clean, feminine comfort of powdery violet.

Images: http://sito.dsquared2.com

Bois de Lune by Manuel Canovas : Scented Candle Review

On the day I returned from my holiday, just as I had closed the door behind me, the doorbell rang. Loaded with bags in the tiny corridor I whined loudly, believing the person behind the door to be my partner who had just dropped me off and was going to go looking for a parking spot. Tired, red faced with effort and with an expression just screaming “What?!” louder than words could, I opened the door to find my next door neighbor looking at me with a sheepish smile. Embarrassment. Seeing as I could hardly move my hands freely as it were, he gently plopped a large cardboard box on top of the teetering pile I was carrying and somehow made it balance. “This arrived for you before Christmas, but you were away.” he said. After apologizing for inconveniencing him, I closed the door with my foot and climbed up the stairs with more excitement than I had felt the whole day. Returning home after a gorgeous holiday is always a sad affair for me –even more so when the prospect of going home means Statistics Exams and inordinate amounts of studying- so finding a packet with mysterious contents upon my return was just the perfect antidote! To my great surprise, the packet was not from a friend or family but from TotalBeauty.com, an online beauty community I’d recently joined. A Christmas gift! No matter that I was receiving it with a slight delay due to my trip – in my opinion the timing could not have been better! Injected with a good dose of happiness, I opened the heavy, rectangular packet contained within to find a scented candle. My eyes instinctively closed, for the scent that reached me was pure bliss....

I adore scented candles – I have mentioned some of my favorites before, like L’Occitane’s Pumpkin Chestnut delight and Floris’ Lavender sweetness. However, I rarely splurge on scented candles myself. Why? Well... Alright, I’ll admit it: I find good candles too expensive. The cheaper alternatives do not smell nearly as good (as a matter of fact they most often smell terribly cheap) and their throw is practically non-existent. There is a single exception to this rule (you’d be shocked), but that is a story for another day! Instead, I prefer to burn scented oils. With a little research for the right quality and the perfect scent, I have everything I need in order to create a wonderful home ambience in the most economical way. One area I do not hesitate spending money on though, is buying presents for my friends, and for those that have a taste for it, a luxury candle is a great gift. And one, I have to say, I love receiving myself. Proof being the wonderful candle I received. Days later, I am still as overjoyed to have it as I was the moment I opened it. I pass in front of it on my way to a different room and somehow find myself lifting the lid to steal a whiff of the wonderful aroma. Like a child with a new toy it can’t resist, I find myself looking forward to lighting it when I come home, while I’d normally save the higher end candles for occasions when I am expecting friends. Yes, that’s how good it is.


I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I? I haven’t even mentioned the name of this wonderful candle that has me waxing lyrically. Its rather poetic name is “Bois de Lune” and it is by Manuel Canovas. I’d never heard of Manuel Canovas before, but apparently it is a French fabrics and tapestries house, also offering a line of specially designed home fragrances. So far, the line is offering nine different candles and having smelled Bois de Lune I’ll admit I am most curious about the rest as well. Each time I smell Bois de Lune, I am slightly taken aback: I can’t help but wish to call this a dark, dark scent. The first impression is that of extremely fragrant, rich black tea and this is a note that remains predominant. It is however, tea engulfed in marvelous woody goodness: deep, dark, stately, like the paneling and furniture of a dimly lit lounge at a gentlemen’s club, where brandy and single malt whiskey is quietly sipped. The mental imagery is rounded off with the ever-present light smokiness of this candle’s scent, evocative of a yet unlit, expensive cigar. To me, this is a marvelously comforting smell, one that I am quickly becoming quite addicted to. A slightly scary thought, since this could turn out to be an expensive new habit. The packaging of the line is simple, understated luxury, adorned with the pattern of shagreen, in a different color for each scent. The candles themselves come in elegant frosted glass jars, and the large ones are capped with a golden lid that will help keep the dust away as well as extinguish the flame. The candles come in three sizes, Large (6.6 oz or 200 gr.), Medium (4.2 oz or 125 gr.) and Votive (1.2 oz or 35 gr.). The price for the large candle is 60$ (approximately 60 burning hours) and refills for the large size can also be purchased (5.8 oz for 45$).

Do let me know if you, like me, hesitate before buying an expensive candle, or whether you happily indulge and treat yourself and your home to luxury scented goodies! Also, have you smelled any of the other candles in the line? I am very curious, especially about Brune et Or.

Images: Author's Own

Palisander by Ava Luxe : Perfume Review

Ina, over at Aromascope made a post some time ago which sparked a discussion on straightforward perfumes. As I stated at the time, I believe that straightforward, linear perfumes can sometimes be a blessing, because you do not have to think too much. Too, sometimes what you are looking for can only be satisfied by a simpler creation, without too much fuss around it. I know I personally have a number of such little loves at least. Although not all of Ava Serena Franco’s fragrances are linear (some are far more complex than I had imagined before trying them), a lot of them satisfy those cravings for a clean, straightforward blend. Her line is fun, the service is amazing and I often find myself visiting her website to order samples as a pick-me-up gift to myself that will invariably bring me a lot of pleasure when it arrives.

I woke up today planning to write a review of Incense Musk, in order to continue the theme of incense I started with Miyako, but when I visited the website I found that it has been discontinued. Not wanting to write another “you can’t have me” teaser, I first considered writing about Passage d’Enfer, but then I realized that in the process I had actually become more interested in writing about an Ava Luxe scent, than about an incense fragrance in general. After perusing my sample collection for a while I decided to settle on Palisander, a delightful autumnal scent, perfect for when the leaves turn copper and the wind starts baring wintry fangs.

Palisander, conversely one of the more complex Ava Luxe fragrances I have sampled, has a strange earthiness when it is first applied on the skin. An earthiness so strong in fact, that it manages to instantly evoke images of subterranean growth, roots of trees and fibers of plants growing deep in dark, rich soil. There are leaves there too, dropped on the forest floor. They have seen countless rains and are now laying there lifeless, wet, decomposing...Becoming one with the earth that bore them. As the oil warms on the skin, the earthy scent disappears, leaving almost no trace behind. It is replaced by a heavy, woody sweetness. When I originally sampled Palisander, six months or so ago, I found the first whiff of its sweetness frightening - I thought I might have to scrub it off immediately. I do sometimes experience an extreme sense of sweetness from some woody fragrances and essential oils and it is something I honestly can’t stomach. Thankfully, I decided to be brave and let it sit on my skin for a while and this was rewarded: I found that this time the sweetness is anything but nauseating. Yes, the initial entrance is rather grand and dramatic, but it quickly becomes obvious that it is not going to be overpowering: despite its headiness, this is a rather sheer sweetness, one that graciously agrees to dance instead of a solo, together with all the other elements of the blend, one after the other. It becomes a constant, which is at first partnered up with a strange, slightly medicinal freshness, a remnant of the erstwhile earthiness. Then later on, with sensuous amber which eradicates any sense of freshness there was still to be found and allows a beautiful, enveloping warmth to bloom on the skin...until finally, it becomes smoky; dark, intense and almost incense like. There is also something else there: after some hours of wear I find Palisander to take on a peculiar animalic quality; the smell of desire heating up a cold room in winter, like a glowing ember.

Images courtesy of: www.galeriabali.pl, www.csun.edu,

Zen by Shiseido : Perfume Review

Sometimes it is more difficult to write about perfumes I’ve lived with and loved for a long time, than about those I’ve just discovered. I’ve been longing to write about Zen for about as long as I’ve been writing Fragrance Bouquet, but something inside me has been making me hold back, always deciding to postpone a review for a later date. Perhaps it is fear of not being able to express my love for it; maybe it’s fear of being unable to describe it. Or perhaps it is the peculiar feeling I have of being unable to touch it, because I have never been able to truly own Zen anyway. It sits there on my dresser, wallowing in my love and admiration, not waiting to be picked – content in only rarely demanding to. And I, I have to wait till it calls me. The rest of my fragrances are mine, loved possessions I feel I can pick up almost thoughtlessly at any given time, because they are both mine and part of myself. With Zen, I have to be summoned.

But now, I feel cannot postpone the review any longer. I guess I have not been following fragrance news very closely, because it was only during my recent trip to Paris that I found that Zen has been discontinued. “Discontinued?” I asked at Shiseido, crestfallen. “Yes, it is gone, a new one is coming in September!” the answer came. Sure enough, when I came back home I confirmed it is nowhere to be found. A cursory look through the international WebPages of Shiseido just confused me, with some listing it as part of the fragrance line while others do not. For now, all I can do to comfort myself is write a little tribute to this difficult love of mine, this love that refuses to be tamed, shunning my affections with haughtiness. That, and wait for the tidings September will bring, of course.

In 1964, Shiseido released the original Zen, Zen Classic. In 2000, almost four decades later, they decided to completely reformulate it. It was meant to be a fragrance for the new millennium. In a time when the stressors of society seemed to be at an ultimate height and with technology making unprecedented leaps into a future that at the time seemed rather frantic, Zen came with a very ambitious vision: to center the wearer, to make them look deep in their hearts. To find inner strength and beauty, enabling them thus to be at peace with the world around them. To vivify the heart, prompting it to reach to others with kindness and purity. With never before used notes such as Space Rose, special ingredients such as Kyara wood and Modified Valerian Oil (both meant to decrease stress and induce feelings of calm and focus) as well as a flacon modeled after two hands gently clasped together in white to encompass all colors, it is obvious that a lot of thought and care went into every stage of creating this perfume. What happened in seven years? Why take away something that clearly required so much effort to create? Excuse me while I lament the loss of a favorite...

And yes, despite its difficult character, Zen has been a favorite of mine. Lacking the richness and complexity of a masterpiece, yes, but still a favorite. Deconstructing it is not an option: Zen is an amalgam of sights, sounds and smells. The heavy rustle of a kimono, austere, reserved. Then the playful, happy song of the melting snow forming a quick stream over rounded stones come springtime. Bamboo whispering in the breeze, while sappy greens are being cut with a machete, the watery scent of their fresh juices mingling with that of its metallic edge. Spiciness with a complete lack of warmth - a spirit burning incense. Solitude. There are no tools of seduction here.

Unlike anything I’d ever smelled before, Zen smells to me today as unique as it did the first time I ever sprayed it on my skin. Out of this world. In one word, futuristic: as shocking and beautiful as a Hussein Chalayan dress. Mossy, spicy and woody at the same time, Zen has all the right ingredients to make me feel as though I am in a Japanese garden. Yet, I do not feel self-contemplating when I wear it. Instead, Zen makes me assume all the qualities it has itself: Aloofness, detachment and quiet forcefulness.

Image courtesy of www.bestcompanyamsterdam.com

Tsukimi by Annayake : Perfume Review

Since I promised to start with Hanami and Tsukimi, I will unorthodoxly suspend a review of the second seasonal fragrance, Natsumi, to write about Tsukimi. The third fragrance in the seasonal quartet of the Annayake fragrance line, Tsukimi, means Moon Viewing. It embodies the spirit of autumn and is meant to represent a woman who is radiant, devoted to tradition and family. This characterization might sound a bit archaic to western, individualistic societies, but this is most certainly not how it would be viewed in the Japanese collectivist culture. Keeping with tradition, Japanese tradition specifically, is a great virtue, and such a woman will be revered, like a precious flower that is never to be sullied, corrupted by unworthy elements. She will be the most attractive ray of light, sought after like a rare, incandescent jewel. She is the woman with the magical ability to bring out the best in the most contemptible of men; she is the bringer of redemption. Her radiance is an eternal, ever-giving spring. Everything she comes into contact with will be blessed by her virtue and beauty, enabled to shine a bit brighter each time for it came to be in the presence of her unyieldingly pure kindness.

Annayake places this woman in the setting of the Harvest Moon. Moonviewing, just as Hanami, flowerviewing, is a tradition that originated in China and was embraced by the Japanese court initially, before spreading to the masses during the Edo era. It is the time of year when farmers harvest the last crops and offer thanks to the moon. It is the time of year to come together with family, friends and loved ones to admire the beauty of the moon, to put seasonal offerings next to the moonlit window and to celebrate togetherness under the silvery lunar rays. The Tsukimi woman will go meet her lover on a hill, to hold his awaiting hand, to bathe in the moon’s light with him under the starry sky. She will be the joy of her family, an emblem of the continuation of tradition. A tradition that might be sadly, slowly fading.

Tsukimi reminds me in many ways of Féminité du Bois by Shisheido, which is not very surprising since they share a lot of the same notes. But having smelled Tsukimi, Féminité du Bois now almost seems aggressive and harsh. The top citrusy notes fly off quickly and leave the skin enveloped in the intensely woody, ambery veil of the fragrance. There is also the scent of lovely, smoky incense there, making the experience all the more interesting. Cumin haters beware, for this is a note that plays a prominent role in this perfume. It blends marvelously with cinnamon, sunflower, violet and precious woods, in a manner that makes me think of fine, viscous oils of anointment. Despite the intense notes, the overall feel of Tsukimi is that of calm sweetness, warm, effusively graceful and heart-achingly nostalgic. It stays relatively close to the skin, making one gently emanate a softly perfumed, filmy aura, like the golden body of a saint, streaming myrrh.

Pictures courtesy of: wikimedia.org, yuanryan.ld.infoseek.co.jp and www.saryou-sakura.com

Un Parfum d’Aventure by L.T. Piver : Perfume Review

The world of fragrance can sometimes be overwhelming and it is not hard to get jaded while sampling its offerings. Truly, how often does it occur that you fall in love with a scent the moment you spray it on your skin? How often does it happen that it haunts you every day after that initial application until you acquire it? This is not a common occurrence for me, yet this is exactly what happened the first time I got to try Un Parfum d’Aventure. All it took was a single spray on my wrist and I was instantly ensnared and forever enchanted. Since it is not available where I live, I had to wait a week before I could return to the boutique where I initially experienced this unexpected gem in order to finally make it mine. My excitement over this perfume has not faded in the least since that day and it has helped initiate a love affair with the perfumes of L.T. Piver, perfumes which I promise to return to and review in the future.

Un Parfum d’Aventure was released in 1931 for the occasion of the Colonial Exhibition of Paris and has since been tweaked for its re-release. Having never experienced the original, I cannot make a comparison but there is definitely one thing I can say: Un Parfum d’Aventure smells vintage. It takes me back in time with unparalleled ease, giving me the chance to find my nose gently pushed against the pressed collar of a cleanly shaven gentleman of its time. I say gentleman, and indeed, this is identified as a masculine perfume, but I would never hesitate to encourage a woman to wear this fragrance as I believe it can be just as much of an asset in a woman’s fragrance wardrobe as in a man’s.

I love everything about this perfume, everything from the beautiful green-colored box, to the little story on its back –printed both in French and in English-, to the simple, masculine flacon, to the jus contained within. The note that I find most irresistible in Un Parfum d’Aventure is one I unfortunately cannot put my finger on. It is a slightly medicinal, herbal note that stings and refreshes the nose and it is the exact same note that attracts me to Vanille Exquise by Anick Goutal. Even though the two do not share any of their official notes, the resemblance is unmistakable. Unlike Vanille Exquise though, the note remains unrelenting in Un Parfum d’Aventure, refusing to fly off throughout the development. It gives and gives, always remaining as strong. I never tire of it and I find myself bringing my wrist to my nose throughout the day in order to deeply inhale it and feel its effects all day long when I wear this perfume. It is most often described as a warm spicy scent, and indeed, it will not disappoint spice lovers. Pink pepper combines beautifully with cloves and cinnamon to add extra warmth, while cardamom and cedar manage to keep everything dry and temperate under their welcome discipline. The lavender contained in the blend lends to the rather old-fashioned masculine, vintage feel of this fragrance, and even though only a top note, it is once again one that somehow remains noticeable and present throughout the development. It is the combination of lavender, vetiver and geranium that lend a true freshness to the end result - one that makes me hesitate to classify it as a truly warm scent. If we permit ourselves for a moment to embark on the sea bound voyage of discoveries suggested by this perfume, we find that the blend of these three notes can be likened to a spray of seawater hitting the deck of the vessel carrying its precious cargo of spices. Together they lend an uplifting, invigorating briskness to our travels. The vetiver is marvelously gentle, albeit insistent, and the geranium has shed all of its sourness, retaining only its freshness. For me, Un Parfum d’Aventure keeps each and every one of its promises, allowing me to experience the pioneering spirit of discovery and adventure. Priced at 40 euro per 100ml, there is simply no excuse to not indulge in this exotic journey.

The first two pictures are courtesy of www.piver.com while the last one was sourced from www.parfumeursdefrance.com