Blv II Eau de Parfum by Bvlgari : Perfume Review

Bvlgari’s lineup follows (with only few exceptions) a very specific, discernible house style that clearly defines the perfume division of this great brand. Namely, the house satisfies a specific niche in the prestige department store sector, producing one skinscent after the other. There are two ways to define the term skinscent: A scent that has a low projection, staying close to the skin, or alternatively, a scent which mimics or enhances the skin’s own scent, blurring the lines between where the scent of one’s skin ends and where the perfume begins, resulting in a beautiful, “your skin but better” effect. Bvlgari clearly specializes in the latter form of skinscents, producing perfumes that each play with different accents (green, powdery, floral, fruity, musky etc.) but all end up producing a more beautiful, velvety version of skin that seems to be emitting a light, perfumed veil.



The brand’s newest, Blv II, does not diverge from this tradition, but what is astounding is that this time around they’ve managed to bottle the gourmand-oriental genie in a Bvlgari skinscent vessel. What am I talking about? Think Angel and (especially) Lolita Lempicka and then imagine them in the guise of a soft-as-clouds skinscent. Impossible? Well, perfumer Jacques Cavallier has achieved just that. This marriage of potency and graceful, sheer lightness is anything but accidental: Bvlgari describes this newest fragrance as “Intense accords and glowing lightness, the perfect synthesis of intensity and transparency”, while the perfumer, Jacques Cavallier expands thus on the creation:

“I was thinking of The Little Prince, who always runs after the simplest things, but things that are in fact very real and essential. (…) So this creation is based on essential things, on the foundation stones of perfumery: amber, iris, musks, wood, patchouli flowers, violets. All major elements of perfumery, which, for the occasion, have been processed differently thanks to new forms of technology, and thanks also to the heritage of the past 20 years, in terms of transparency, the lightning inspiration of each new debut and the work done also on naturalness.”

- via press release

The first note to become apparent after application is a marvelously soft violet, soon to become dressed and emboldened with the sweet gourmand accents of star anise and liquorice. Soon, the fresh scent of mandarin joins in, at first a green nuance like the scent of its stems and leaves but thereafter ever more full-bodied and fruity. Suddenly its freshness becomes all the more brisk and invigorating, adding a definite sense of masculinity to the mix, which if I’m honest, I could do without. This masculinity is further explored in the heartnotes as it becomes enhanced at first by vetiver but thankfully, it soon subsides. We enter a stage of glorious fullness as the perception of rich iris becomes enhanced and the slightly harsh masculinity of the scent changes to mysterious femininity as the deep scent of patchouli joins the iris in full. Most beguilingly, underneath both I sense a burgeoning, slightly buttery and balsamic woody base, enriched with subtle hints of malt-infused tobacco. The base presents a triumvirate of ruling ambers (ambergris, benzoin & labdanum) on a bed of burning musk. The aniseedic, patchouli-infused violet-iris combo persists however softly to the end, enhancing the impression of the aforementioned skinscent version of a gourmand-oriental in the spirit of Lolita Lempicka. Blv II covers the skin with a soft gourmand-oriental veil that projects lightly, becoming drier and more powdery as time goes on and turning surprisingly transparent, allowing one’s own skin scent to glow beautifully from within. In short this to me seems like the perfect scent for someone looking for a quiet, daytime oriental that will offer sensuality and mystery while remaining subtle enough to leave others wondering whether you are wearing perfume or if indeed, the beautiful warmth perceived is produced by your own skin.

Kelly Calèche by Hermès : Perfume Review

*This post is dedicated to the wonderful, warmhearted, generous friend who recently gifted me with a bottle of Kelly Calèche. She always impresses me with her great manners and thoughtful character. May her generosity find its way back to her tenfold.*

Last summer, Hermès’ newest launch, caused quite a stir among perfume aficionados: Everyone wanted to have a whiff of the newest member of the Calèche family and even though most conceded the juice was not quite what they had expected it to be, most found it a very likeable, wearable scent. And while the perfume world was buzzing, Fragrance Bouquet kept quiet... I just couldn’t bring myself to love it – in fact I hated it. My own excitement about this fragrance had quickly fizzled out when one bright summer morning I spritzed this fragrance on a paper strip for the first time. Disaster. I couldn’t even bring myself to procure a little sample vial to review it – the only words that I could come up to describe this scent were ‘vile bug spray’ and my brain refused to elaborate further. And so I pushed Kelly Calèche out of my mind, unwisely remaining with that first impression I got from that paper strip for more than six months now. It never crossed my mind to try it on myself: the thought of having to live with the bug spray trail emitting from my own skin was too horrible to even contemplate. The months went by. And then it found its way to my doorstep... And I am besotted.

What a difference a spray on the skin makes... The scent of the jus sprayed on the skin bares absolutely no resemblance to the scent on a blotting strip. Where did the harshness go? This is soft, delicate, restrained even. Most have complained that the leather in this composition is almost undetectable, a mere hint rather than an accentuated accord, but Kelly Calèche’s first bloom on my skin is actually full-on leather. It is neither animalic, nor heavy as most leathers tend to be, but it is, to my nose at least, unmistakably leather. It is the whiff of leather you get that first moment when you open the door of an extremely expensive car decked with leather interior, the whiff of leather you can smell on your skin after having worn a supple, black kidskin glove for the first time. Slowly, the leathery scent subsides and gives way to a heart of cool iris, buttery and deep, colored by my mind’s eye in pastel shades of grey and pink – like a sunset that breaks through the clouds of a summer storm. It is surrounded by garlands of tiny flowers I can’t quite identify: their scent is neither reminiscent of the officially listed notes of narcotic tuberose, nor of the honeyed, magical smell of mimosas that has stopped me dead in my tracks so many times when taking an evening stroll in the summertime. The drydown is powdery and soft, with leather brought back to the fore in a subtle manner, which enhances the wearer’s own skin scent.

The overall feel of Kelly Calèche is slightly musty and very dry: those who like me, love bitter scents, are sure to fall for this one. Its finish is soft and subtle – a cultivated and refined skin scent whose sensibilities object to anything remotely vulgar. This coolly sophisticated fragrance is suited for every season, but in my opinion performs –as well as blooms- best in warmer weather, especially during springtime. It's one of those scents that reek of good breeding, quiet confidence and expensive taste. In the daytime, it begs for jodhpurs, boots and silk scarves or jeans worn with crisp white shirts and leather accessories. Those who have not considered this as a nighttime scent though, will be surprised when pairing it with a strapless cocktail dress cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt. Kelly Calèche simply puurrrs on bare shoulders...


Image: www.hermes.com

Intrigant Patchouli by Parfumerie Generale : Musings and a Perfume Review

How do you feel about strongly animalic scents? Undeniably, there is a sense of danger in wearing one in public. The message these fragrances broadcast is by far not subtle – it is instead, a proclamation of pure sexual energy, an advertisement of one’s lusty nature and perhaps best of all, they are an admittance of the fact that at least part of us, longs for and misses the ability to smell the earthy, warm human scent of one another, a scent long suppressed by the norms of excessive and sometimes sterile cleanliness enforced by modern society. Don’t get me wrong – I am neither ready to give up my daily shower, nor throw away my deodorant just yet. As a student of Psychology however, I can’t help but appreciate the fact that masking our natural scent, is in fact quite unnatural. But I digress. Animalic scents then – my first question was how do you feel about them? Moreover, would you wear them in public? Many feel that wearing these scents outside one’s home is too daring, inappropriate, unsuitable even. The scents in question are often well loved, but feel so private in nature, that their owner reserves wearing them only in the privacy of their own abode. Personally, I have no reservations when it comes to raising a little olfactory controversy with my scent of choice. In fact, I must admit to taking perverse delight in wearing something that is bound to raise a few eyebrows and bother a few noses. The little child in me giggles naughtily when I find myself in the mood to take one of my little sex-bombs out for a ride. No, I do not think this is due to some sociopathic trait of a deranged perfumista mind! When I sit to think about this strange behavior, I realize that perhaps the reason behind it is my deep love for perfume – perhaps subconsciously, I am trying to make others not only aware, but actually part of this wonderful world of scent and its ability to awaken powerful emotions. Controversial scents cannot be ignored or taken lightly, like cologne applied thoughtlessly after shaving or a light floral spritzed on the run, already late for an early morning meeting. Thus, when I step out of the house wearing something with undeniable oomph, I am not motivated by a wish to make my friends faint, but rather, by a wish to involve them in my world of perfume – all with the help of a game, instead of prose. But of course I would be lying if I said that when I apply Paloma Picasso on the small of my back as the finishing touch for backless dress appearance I am motivated by playfulness. No, the only motive then is the enhancement of sex appeal, one more overt expression of the way I feel in the particular outfit. I do believe strongly in underscoring one’s mood with one’s choice of perfume. And in the world of perfume, there is no better way to underscore one’s sensuality – an animalic fragrance will always do it best.

By now it must be clear that I adore carnal scents; it will come as no surprise then, that I haven’t been able to get Intrigant Patchouli out of my head ever since I first smelled it last week. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to say that it positively haunts my thoughts, popping in and out of my consciousness unexpectedly throughout the day. At the gym, while doing push-ups to the sound of Bodyrockers Dirty (“There’s a reason why you’re in my head... There’s a good reason why you’re in my bed! There’s a reason why you rock my world... Cause you’re DIRTY! D-d-d-dirrrty!!!” – Oh dear, are you laughing? Please be aware I am not responsible for the choice of music – it is a group class! But let me tell you, it is impossible to NOT think about Intrigant Patchouli while listening to those lyrics! ) and before going to sleep at night, thinking how wonderful it will be when I can wear it again the next day. Intrigant Patchouli starts with a strange alcoholic blast that manages to delay the advent of the pure animalic lustiness that is to follow for about... two seconds. Wait for it, wait for it... then Boom, it all becomes a hot breath of eroticism that blows longingly over every single expanse of naked skin. Its heart is patchouli perfect, so well blended that there is not a single hint of headshop oil left to speak of. It is lovingly surrounded – and in my mind, loved, courted, hugged and fondled as well- by a heart-soaringly wonderful, dirty animalic accord, the heart stopping trio of civet, castoreum and ambergris. And right underneath those tantalizingly inquisitive fingertips, velvety soft sandalwood and the lovely, resinous sweetness of benzoin. As time passes, the scent becomes mellower, with a sweet, musky overtone. Finally, far into the drydown, a lovely, milky-powdery scent rises from the skin in the most seductive manner. In order to get a better idea of how intriguingly sensual this scent is, imagine Muscs Koublai Khan and then amplify (yes!) its animalic tendencies, then add Musc Ravageur’s earthy, dirty sweetness to this imaginary mix and place it around a heart of beautiful patchouli. This is not a perfect comparison by far, but I’ve been curiously testing all three scents this week to see how alike and different they are, so I thought it'd be useful to share. (in fact I am currently wearing Intrigant Patchouli on one arm and MKK on the other, and let me tell you, this is a potent mix!) Surprisingly, even though Intrigant Patchouli is indeed very powerful, it is not a trail fragrance – this is an intimate skin-scent. Full bottle worthy? Oh, yes! I’ll be rushing out to buy this, once my decant is finished!

Images: www.advancedwildlifecontrolllc.com, www.bioinquiry.vt.edu, www.delta.dfg.ca.gov, www.parfumeriegenerale.fr

Dior Homme by Dior : Perfume Review

“Mmmmm, oooooooh, my!” ...is all I can think, again and again every time I smell Dior Homme. How can something be so beautiful? This perfume has cast a spell on me: I am ready to make the wildly unrealistic proclamation that this is the classiest male fragrance I have ever smelled, at the very least among the non-niche offerings. Several weekends in a row now, I’ve found myself in front of the admittedly limited (at least in comparison to the ones showcasing female fragrances) shelves of male fragrances at my local Douglas, testing male scents with my partner to find the perfect one for him. He is leaning towards Prada. As for me...there is no question: no matter how much I like what he is testing at the moment, the instant he puts Dior Homme on his skin I am ready to tell the world that I’ve found genius in a bottle. The rest simply seem to pale in comparison: once Dior Homme makes an appearance, the rest suddenly appear cheaper, lacking. It has one thing in such abundance, the rest seem to have none at all when put side by side. That thing, is class.

The iris starts out buttery, almost solid, I want to take it all in, devour it. I do not get tired of inhaling it, I do not find myself wanting to take a step back to enjoy the scent from a distance...No, I want to stay there, nose pressed against the skin, sniffing wildly like an animal, lest I miss a precious molecule that might fly off unnoticed. Re-reading this last sentence I realize these are words I’d usually reserve for something intensely musky, that never fails to awaken a primal sexual desire... But Dior Homme isn’t even remotely dirty, nor does it try to be suggestive. It smells brave and lonely, hardy and fragile at once, like the edge of winter. The iris soon goes from buttery to strangely metallic: the sound effect of a well-whetted blade being drawn, a blade so sharp it would push into flesh with an ease that would ensure the victim felt no pain until it was far too late. The choice of words is not casual: there is an element of danger in this otherwise calm, collected...perhaps even calculated scent. Something of a breath, a last warm sigh amidst the wintry chill. Then everything softens with a quite unexpected sweetness – a thawed heart that manages to beat again, slowly, like a clock that counts every precious moment. Smelling it on the skin of a loved one, I get the irrepressible urge to cuddle, feeling rather protective. Smelling it on my own skin, this sudden, almost illusory warmth, speaks of cable knit sweaters and sheepskin lined boots. Each time this gorgeous scent enters another stage, I can’t help but feel a pang of regret, which is soon replaced by gladness, for I do enjoy everything it has to offer. The drydown is not an exception... I can’t help but feel disappointed as the already quiet scent loses intensity, as though dispersed in the winds. Yet soon I settle in, once again interested, once again intrigued. Readily, I take in its powdery feel, dry and woody, like a scratched bourbon vanilla pod. The merest hint of leather keeps my senses entranced, dispelling any thoughts that a powdery finish might veer into the realm of the mundane. To me, this is a masterpiece.

Images: www.100aromatov.ru and www.imageafter.com

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

Eau Emotionelle by Agent Provocateur : Perfume Review

In love again, it seems.
On a particularly rainy, busy Thursday recently, I was frantically biking home after a full day of lectures and labs at the university, feeling quite sorry for myself, for I was completely drenched, cold and tired. My mood was instantly lifted though, as I opened the door to find a packet that came with the mail on the floor. Samples! A lovely reader I had recently sent some samples to, decided to surprise me with a little packet of her own, sharing with me some of her own finds. How wonderful is that? The gloominess of the day just washed off me in an instant, with the kindness that greeted me when I opened this thoughtful little packet.

One of the samples I received was Agent Provocateur’s Eau Emotionelle and I have –quite unexpectedly I might add- fallen hard for it. Eau Emotionelle is meant to be a lighter interpretation of the original Agent Provocateur scent, but I am hard pressed to find many similarities between the two. These are two very different scents, sharing a base that is perhaps slightly reminiscent of each other, but otherwise very dissimilar in ambience, feel and notes. I tried the original years ago for the first time, and even though I liked it, I never considered buying it, as I did not think it was unique enough. It is surprising that I find myself so unmoved by it, as it follows a recipe that I normally can’t resist: It is one of those fragrances that take no prisoners - it packs a punch, it is powerful, wild, animalistic, uncompromising and fearless... in other words, you can’t ignore it. In theory, it is perfect for me, in reality though I am just left shrugging, always ending up thinking that there are others that do exactly what Agent Provocateur promises, only better. Eau Emotionelle on the other hand seems almost unobtrusive, especially when compared side by side with its extravagant, older sibling. In fact, I have trouble discerning Eau Emotionelle at all for a while after smelling Agent Provocateur, the latter being so strong it completely overpowers my senses for a while, making me unable to detect the mild scent of the former.

Yes, Eau Emotionelle is mild and soft, but certainly not as tame and innocent as one might initially think. The opening is ever so slightly green and sappy but soon a lovely, sheer sweetness comes through that lasts throughout the development. There is a spiciness running through it, but one that lacks a bite, being gently enticing instead. The middle is a beautiful, delicate floral mélange that is utterly seducing, like a fine-spun gossamer veil. The base in turn, is gorgeously sensual: intriguing musk and a dusting of the finest loose powder. If the original is a plush boudoir covered in velvet and silk throws, Eau Emotionelle’s bedding is made of the best quality, high-thread Egyptian cotton sheets, with pastel-pink feathers strewn over it and a pair of the finest, daintiest, white lace underwear forgotten on the pillow. Seemingly innocent yes, but not quite... Indeed. This subtle scent is full of hushed promises. Catching the eye of a stranger for a moment too long, the accidental flashing of a woman’s warm abdomen, a lingering smile on flushed lips. And comfort. Heaps of it. Comfort and sexiness combined. Can you tell I am really, in love again? I’ve been looking forward to buying this gorgeous skin-scent for about a week now and come Saturday it will be mine. Sweet anticipation.

Images: www.freefoto.com, www.abeautifullife.com and www.shears.co.uk

Prada Pour Homme by Prada : Perfume Review

It has been a while since I last reviewed a masculine fragrance here on Fragrance Bouquet, even though several creations, some old and some new have caught my attention since summer. I cannot put off reviewing Prada Pour Homme any longer though, and not just because I’ve somehow ended up smelling it almost daily –either on my own skin or on others- for the last couple of weeks. The truth is, I am currently deeply enamored with it – I find it simply divine. I didn’t really know what to expect from it in the beginning: I didn’t fall in love with the female version and subsequently never actually bothered to smell Prada Tendre. I likely would not have bothered to seek out Pour Homme either, had I not smelled it on a friend who happens to wear it very, very well. Wondering whether it was just a case of good chemistry-perfume fit, I started testing it on my own skin, only to discover I was instantly hooked.

One likely reason I find myself so excited by Prada Pour Homme is that it is a very atypical male scent: It does not resemble any other mainstream fragrance marketed towards men right now. It feels almost as though it quietly mocks every aquatic, citrusy, or overly bracing and invariably yawnfest-inducing male release out there, inviting you to laugh with it, sharing in the joke. This is indeed a fragrance for the self-assured man who does not need to reassert his masculinity, or rather, mask his insecurities through his overly stout, manly scent. Where others insist on announcing their arrival, taking up space, enunciating their presence loud and clear, Prada Pour Homme is content to whisper seductively, inviting others to come closer instead. Gentle woody murmurs, musks, the creamy lather of soap and a smidgen of leather make up this gorgeous fragrance that serves to enhance the wearer’s own chemistry. This effect is so well done, that smelling it on another for the first time, it is hard to know whether what you are smelling is indeed perfume or the man’s natural own skin-scent. To me, its sensual yet slightly aloof scent evokes images of both colors and textures with ease, presenting me with a well constructed, layered outfit of soft grey flannel and silvery silk. The sensory experience gradually extends to bodily sensations...A smoothly shaven cheek, the slightly damp, still steaming from the heat, naked body of a just-showered man. When thinking of these sensations rationally I can’t help but translate them to less romantic, but indeed logical qualities: tender melancholy, intellect, sexiness and perfect grooming. And yes, the jus indeed encompasses all four with ease. Admittedly though, what I love most about it is its soapy muskiness. Now, I am aware the term soapy is not always used in a positive manner when it comes to perfumes, but really, there is absolutely no need to fear it in this context. Yes, Prada Pour Homme is indeed soapy, but its earthy smell of saffron and its infinitely sexy musk base save it from being either safe or overly clean. It is simply yummy and warm, the smell of sweet skin wearing nothing but a thin oriental ribbon.

If you fall in love with this as much as I do, may I also suggest you consider splurging on the shower gel as well? It is simply fabulous. I use it at night and find myself wrapped in its tender, comforting embrace all evening. Furthermore, it is surprisingly long lasting: When I wake up in the morning my shirt is completely infused with the lovely smell – something I’ve never actually experienced with a shower gel before.

Images: www.beadfx.com and www.shaving.philips.com (color adjustments by author)