Forget me Not: Scherrer 1 and Scherrer 2 by Jean-Louis Scherrer (Part 2)

In this extra large, double Forget me Not feature, we travelled back in time to see the rise and fall of a largely forgotten fashion name, and my own personal history with the house’s signature scent. The house of Scherrer has managed to produce a perfume in every single decade since the launch of its signature scent. Today, in Part 2, we explore Scherrer’s first two perfumes, Scherrer 1 and 2 – the former, a bold chypre, the latter a cuddly oriental.

Scherrer 1: Instantly recognizable from its opening notes as a grand perfume with unmistakable Parisian flair, Jean-Louis Scherrer is, in my opinion, one of the best chypres ever made. Drenched in bergamot up top, Scherrer starts its journey sunny and bright but quickly starts singing a slightly melancholy romantic tune when the gorgeous hyacinth note is revealed. Bittersweet, delicate and hardy at once, the wonderfully erotic floral note is the perfect introduction to all that is to follow: immense attraction with that “Dare you come closer?” attitude all great chypres share. Scherrer is not shy or timid, and its intentions are clear from the very beginning. Expertly crafted to continuously underscore its animalic appeal from top to bottom, it features ‘stinky’ notes in every single stage: Cassis, with its distinctive, catty, urinous character up top, indolic jasmine and gardenia in the heart, and a glorious civet and musk combo in the base. We have a beautiful continuity thus, spelling brazen sex-appeal from the first moment of the application to the very last faded shadow in the drydown. But if the core, the skeleton of this perfume is wanton, sexy and desperate to relinquish heart, soul and trembling body to the hands of the object of its affection, so is its frame made of harder stuff, fleshed out by a holy, strict constitution of austere, disciplined greens, that look down at anyone who might make a wrong move with an exacting stare that’ll spare no one but the very best. We have unity then, but we also have contradiction: Warm gorgeous carnation and spicy rose for experience and sex appeal; lush gardenia, for the lover who discounts all cautionary tales. But then the classic chypre structure, with powerful oakmoss and green labdanum dominantly keeping everything in check. Scherrer is a beast in a forest, ravaged by passion yet always restrained by the rules, the smells of its home: Lichen, moss, earth, greens, wood. Like Paloma Picasso and the grand lady Cabochard, Jean-Louis Scherrer leaves victims in its wake, having the power to choose the most powerful gladiator. It can be worn as armor, it can be worn for warmth, like a fur coat whose scent it mimics to an extent, it can be worn as a weapon of seduction. Its beauty is the power and the unforgettable, intriguing confidence and animal magnetism it lends to the wearer.

Scherrer 2: Some beasts roar and some purr. This is definitely one of the latter variety. Created in 1986 and meant to capture the spirit of the Scherrer haute couture, Scherrer 2 has the marvelous ability to smell like a true child of its time and unbelievably contemporary at once. There are a few factors that stop this sweet oriental from smelling dated. For first, it is not a sillage monster like so many of its contemporaries. While it indeed has powerful projection and wearers are bound to leave a trail, unlike many of its contemporaries it will do so with enough modesty to not overwhelm everyone that comes in its path. In short, it ain’t vulgar. Secondly, it presents itself with fair, childlike candor and such girly innocence that it manages to completely remove itself from the powersuit associations of its decade. The opening features very fleeting bergamot notes and a touch of green over sweet, boozy aniseed. Very briefly, the scent turns fruity – plumy in fact, with a beautiful wine aspect and then it’s all about the honey. I am used to honey notes smelling sharp and acidic in modern perfumes, something I do not enjoy at all in fact, but if these same reasons have kept you away from honey scents, don’t let them stop you from sniffing this one. The honey note here is smooth and innocent, with beautiful floral hints wafting in and out. As has already been alluded, this might be a scent that makes honey its true focus, but it’s certainly a complex, multifaceted honey. There are hints of flowers: a very innocent jasmine and lily, most recognizable to my nose. There is soft, warm beeswax to be found in its depth, when sniffed closely. Most salient however, is the fact that this is not honey alone, but milk and honey together. Those of you that like me have had the comforting treat made for you while growing up will readily recognize the warm and peculiar, sweet combination. Once it reaches this stage, Scherrer 2 remains like this for hours, generously perfuming the body with the scent of honey and undergoing only minimal changes. With time it does become rather less innocent as the musk starts revealing itself and its sensual ambery base becomes stronger. At the end of the day the skin will smell of soft, powdery heliotrope, sandalwood and warm, soft amber.

Edit: It just struck me just now that Scherrer 2 is really going to appeal to Boudoir lovers. The two don't smell alike -aside from sharing in a prominent honeyed character- but something tells me this is going to be a winner for those who adore Westwood's love it or hate it gem.

Images: The images in this post belong to www.okadi.com and the originals can be bought directly from the OKADI website.

Forget me Not: Scherrer 1 and Scherrer 2 by Jean-Louis Scherrer (Part 1)

The story of Scherrer is bittersweet and slightly flat: There are no moving meridians, no climax to the private drama of the once well-known couturier and no catharsis at the end of the story. Born in the 1930s, Jean-Louis Scherrer studied ballet and fashion in Paris and later went on to train under Christian Dior at the house of Dior, as well as Yves Saint Laurent when Dior died and the former was appointed director. In the beginning of the ‘60s, Scherrer founded his own label, originally located at the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, and later at avenue Montaigne, where it can still be found today. One of the beauties of writing the Forget me Not feature pieces is remembering the signature creations and innovations that made the couturiers behind the perfumes famous. Scherrer himself however, has left no such legacies. Indeed, he was better known for reinterpreting trends, reforming them with a more conservative touch that would still allow for femininity and a certain sex-appeal. It was this skill that made Scherrer once rich and famous, as first ladies, queens and the crème de la crème of high society would flock to the house to be dressed in the latest fashions while still avoiding the vulgarity of any eyebrow-raising. Modesty, thus, as well as on-trend status brandishing that would never fail to remind admirers that the wearer was in possession of serious money, were the hallmarks of this brand. The late ‘80s and early ‘90s found the house in economic decline and tragically, Scherrer was fired from the house he had once founded. The troubled designer fought back in court, but only managed to receive a settlement, but no further use of his name. Two decades later, the house seems to have bounced back, with Haute Couture growing and reporting a great percentage of young clientele.

In 1979, Jean-Louis Scherrer launched his first, signature fragrance. According to the official website, Scherrer “hoped that it would be a perfume of quality and tradition” and he is cited describing it as “The passion of the moment. The eternal feminine.” To me, this perfume certainly has something of the eternal. It was the first chypre I loved, at an age when I didn’t know what a chypre was. Formative then, for it started a long love-affair with everything green, austere, feminine but at once forceful. A love affair that started at an age before I even started attending school and is still going strong. Forever connected to a particular person, Scherrer 1 will be my first perfume love, whose name I only learned years later, while never having forgotten its smell.

I was a little girl, and Scherrer was the signature perfume of my dear aunt. Always spending weekends at her house so I’d be playing with my cousin, I’d find myself quietly marveling at the ultra-sophisticated scent following the footsteps of the petite woman with the sparkling blue eyes and the bobbed hair, falling around her face in soft curls. She seemed so exotic to me; having grown up in Austria her perfect Greek had (and still does have) the most beautiful singing lilt and cheerful intonation of a running stream. Unlike most of the women I knew, she had the power to be both loving, nurturing and strict at once. You could not mess with her! And when she laughed, the clouds would part from the sun, a beautiful laugh so infectious and gorgeous it would lend sparkle and light to everything it reverberated from. And isn’t that just the most perfect description of a chypre? Something that is strict and forceful, as well as loving and warm? Something that has the power to lift your spirits to a heavenly place? Something whose hug means so much more, because it is never thoughtless but always meaningful?

I never learned the name of the beautiful perfume, up until two years ago. While out perfume sniffing with my mom, I handed her another chypre in surprise: “Oh my God… This takes me back… It smells exactly like Soula used to when I was little. I love it!” After sniffing the blotter, she looked at me stunned. “You’re right. How can you remember that? She wore it forever… but doesn’t any more. I’ll have to remember what it was called. She probably still has a bottle, you know. She keeps everything.” My mom did remember - it was Scherrer, a name I’d never heard of before. And aunt Soula did indeed have a bottle still. In fact, she had two, smelling as fresh as day, even though they were both half-empty. Determined, I decided to seek it out on my trip to Paris.

We already knew what was happening with oakmoss in 2007, so walking into the Scherrer boutique I felt apprehension, a terrible fear that my original chypre love would have been changed beyond recognition. The boutique was quiet and dark and rather sombre with its black granite and mirrored walls, a stark difference after the buzzing, bright, cheerful house of Dior on the other side of the street. I bypassed a lady fitting a dress and joined a member of the staff by an oval table. On it, all the Scherrer perfumes, together with a fresh bottle of the signature. A sigh of relief - it was still the same. Sweet perfume cloud, full of memories of a creature that wore it well. Better than anyone else could.
(To be continued…)

Images: Early days of the fashion house: Scherrer with his models – www.jeanlouisscherrer.fr
Claudia Schiffer from a Scherrer fashion show - www.anitahopkinsla.com
A picture of Scherrer at one of his shows, the year he was fired – www.grioo.com
The Scherrer boutique on avenue Montaigne

Philtre d’Amour by Guerlain : Perfume Review

Back in October I visited one of the many perfume fairs that take place here in the Netherlands. Even if you don’t end up buying something, these events are well worth visiting, just to be able to look at all the vintage bottles and forgotten or even unknown treasures of the perfume world. The perfume auctions that often take place during the day are also fun to follow and even take part in, since amazing bargains on pure perfume can often be had. I went looking for a couple of things I was eventually unable to find, but still had a lot of fun reconnecting with my favorite vintage perfume dealers, meeting new ones, talking with collectors, looking at fabulous crystal bottles including Guerlain’s limited edition Baccarat turtles and a complete collection of old Nina Ricci Lalique flacons, still sealed and filled with their wonderful juice (The vintage Lalique Coeur Joie still makes me feel like I’m about to faint from its beauty every time I see it). Slightly broke by the end of October during which the fair took place, I didn’t feel the urge to take out my wallet and actually buy something, even as all the little perfume gems felt like they were calling my name. However at my favorite vintage dealer’s table I found a bargain I absolutely couldn’t resist. A full bottle of Guerlain’s Philtre d’Amour with a pre-LVMH acquisition code, which the dear lady I always end up buying from was offering me for just 25euro.

The name is amazingly evocative and beautiful, but as Marina of Perfume Smellin’ Things notes, it is not quite fitting to the juice. Philtre d’Amour is not passionate, but indeed restrained. A light, summery Chypre, it spells sophistication, elegance and grace rather than temptation and ardor. Having said that, it is also warm, rather than chilly. It opens with a blast of spicy freshness allowing one to sniff briefly hints of patchouli before turning up the citrus volume so loud, one would be justified to think this is a perfume that’s all about the lemon. Candied, Guerlinade-infused lemon envelopes the skin in sweet freshness. Soon the scent of freshly-cut greens cuts down the sweetness and allows for a very sophisticated, slightly bitter vein to show through. Buttery iris is the first floral note that I identify and it is a note used with amazing thoughtfulness; just the right amount to add softness and the merest hint of powder to the scent, but not enough to overwhelm, as iris so easily can. Indolic, dirty jasmine has once again been used with the same amount of thoughtfulness and restrain and together with fabulous, soft and slightly bitter neroli these two florals manage to finally make the fragrance exude a wonderful heart of warmth through the elegant citrus freshness that defines this scent throughout. The base notes feature a wonderful, spicy oakmoss-patchouli combination, that together with the florals and bergamot really make Philtre d’Amour smell like a Chypre of a bygone era. Old-fashioned then, yet oh-so contemporary due to its timeless, classic character, this is a fabulous, scent. Its freshness and elegant lightness mean that it is a perfect choice for warm weather and I have the feeling that this will be exceptional in especially warm, humid climes where the slightly dirty heart notes and spicy base notes will be allowed to bloom to perfection. It will also be an excellent replacement for the summer wardrobe of Aromatics Elixir users. Philtre d’Amour is sold at Guerlain Boutiques as part of the Les Parisiennes collection, but Victoria from Bois de Jasmine notes that it has possibly been changed since its re-release in 2000. As I have only tested the original version, I cannot report on how the new formula compares.

If you wish to receive a sample of this original version, please say so in the comment area and I will enter your name in a drawing. Winner to be announced in a week’s time.

Images: www.fragrantica.com and Flickr, originally uploaded by Osbock

Perfume for the Occasion : Saint Patrick’s Day

Originally celebrated mostly in areas with large and active Irish communities such as the US and Canada, as well as the UK and Ireland itself of course, Saint Patrick’s Day has, in recent years, become more and more popular: The 17th of March has become a celebrated holiday in many countries as diverse as Japan, Russia, Germany, Argentina, Denmark and South Korea.



Celebrations are, of course, themed around the color green - and as food blogs start writing about food dyes and all-green themed menus and fashion blogs start putting together green outfits in anticipation of the holiday, For the Love of Perfume and Fragrance Bouquet devote this month’s Perfume for the Occasion on wonderful green fragrances fit for the day. Considering St. Paddy’s day almost coincides with the official beginning of spring on the 19th of March, these choices should satisfy those early spring green cravings as well!

The Floral:

Cabotine by Gres: An intensely green floral, Cabotine is ultra feminine and youthfully innocent. Despite its greenness, this fragrance has a flirtatiously sweet overtone. And too, despite the fact that its scent murmurs of innocence and femininity, it is also strong and determined: Cabotine is extremely long lasting, offers powerhouse sillage and a strong, seductive trail. It garners heaps of compliments and I have noticed that men seem to be particularly attracted to it. I believe Cabotine’s ingredients must have been compromised somewhere along the line, as it seems to me that the scent is not as sparklingly stunning as it used be. Too, it seems to be a tad soapier nowadays. Having said that, this does remain a gorgeous green floral, whose many admirers (including myself) are happy to see still in production.



The Pure:

Eau de Lierre by Diptyque: Diptyque’s Eau de Lierre can be likened to a dance between a dryad and a nyad: The most beautiful, lifelike, leafy notes embracing with watery notes reminiscent of frozen, crystal clear water from the purest of untouched springs. This absolutely gorgeous scent is almost deceptively transparent. You wear it, you forget about it for a bit and then suddenly you find yourself surrounded by the most beautiful, erotic green light scent, emitting from something in your vicinity. And then you realize the scent is coming from your own skin and find yourself with your nose glued to your wrist for the rest of the day! Even though the scent does not have much of a development once on the skin, it does differ depending on who’s wearing it. This difference becomes especially apparent when smelling it on a man rather than on a woman. Eau de Lierre becomes darker, herbal and mysterious on male skin. On female skin it is fresher, sheerer, brighter, its delicate sillage dropping more than a little hint to mischievous eroticism. I love this one – it is my favorite pick for the occasion!

The Wild Child:

Wild Hunt by CB I Hate Perfume: This is one of those fragrances that make you instinctively close your eyes when you smell them. I received a little sample of this in the mail, in a carefully put together packet by a wonderful, generous reader. I do not often come across Brosius’ creations (in fact this is only the second one of his scents I’ve had the pleasure of sniffing), so I didn’t really know anything about it. Still, without any prior expectations or knowledge, I knew immediately that this was the smell of the forest and a visit to the CB I Hate Perfume website proved me right. I subsequently dabbed this on my partner’s wrist and his reaction was even wilder than my own: “Oh my God!” he exclaimed, sniffing his wrist with a bewildered expression on his face. “I used to smell like this all the time! ... That’s how I used to smell!” I looked at him quizzically. “I used to play in the forest every day when I was a kid and that’s how I used to smell when I came back home!” he explained further. I smiled broadly. He doesn’t always get the scents I proffer him right, often proclaiming that an ambery scent smells floral for example, but he definitely nailed this one. Wild Hunt is indeed the scent of the forest: Extremely earthy, green and magnificent. Leaves, freshly dug up dirt, twigs and vines... a whirlwind of scents that can evoke powerful memories. It is, an experience. Through it all I smell a bright, yellow vein, like a ray of sunshine that breaks through the thick canopy: the scent of fresh chamomile flower heads.

The Sophisticate:

Cristalle by Chanel: Utter sophistication and marvelous elegance is what Chanel’s Cristalle is all about. This magnificent Chrypre is an aristocratic, blue-blooded creature that unfortunately often finds itself in the shadow of Big Sister No. 19, which I consider inferior. Still, Cristalle never complains. Complaining is far beneath her. Stoic, elegant, beautiful and richly nuanced, Cristalle is the brightest green emerald. The development of the scent is subtle and dreamlike: every change that takes place can be likened to a feather light caress that never takes the wearer by surprise, but rather lets them embark on a journey of greens that is at once comforting and fortifying against any hardship. This is a scent for a woman that speaks with her silences, as well as her expressive, eloquent eyes, rather than with a loud demanding voice.


There are countless green scents out there and I had to deliberate quite a bit before settling for these four choices, which I tried to make as diverse as possible for your enjoyment. But what are your favorite green scents? Have you already started wearing them in anticipation of the spring weather?

Images: commons.wikimedia.org, www.sxc.hu, Flickr (originally uploaded by Crinity), Flickr (originally uploaded by gotigersjf)

Forget me Not: Antaeus by Chanel

When TMH of For the Love of Perfume and I came up with the idea for this feature a couple of months ago, we decided we had to find a name for it that would be neutral enough to allow us to write about both oldies we liked and disliked as well. Considering my feelings about Antaeus, I now find myself wondering whether Forget me Not is indeed neutral enough. Having said that, Antaeus should not be forgotten. Bare with him. He’s got tricks up his sleeve.

Created by Jacques Polge in 1981, Antaeus perfectly captures the spirit of a male powerhouse fragrance of the ‘80s. This potent brew, like so many of the decade’s creations, shamelessly advertises the wearer’s virility like an open declaration of blatant machismo. In fact, this juice is so strong, it easily evokes vivid mental imagery of a crazed male rubbing cologne on freshly showered chest hair in anticipation of ...what? Going out for a night of ‘pulling’? Does this ring any bells? Why yes, I think I’ve caught this scene before: Tom Selleck, in an advertizement for Revlon’s Chaz. I could not find it on YouTube, unfortunately, but the commercial is available on this site, third video on the right hand column.

Antaeus’ opening is briefly sharp and citrusy, but even during this initially fresh moment the animalic base is clearly perceptible. The slightly astringent, green coriander wilts under the pressure and then withers away into nothingness. I cannot possibly sniff too close to the skin soon after the fragrance is applied: doing so means nothing less than receiving a bold smack, or perhaps even a punch in the nose, which ends up delivering a mighty, stinging sensation behind my eyes. Had Antaeus been able to wear a drop of his namesake fragrance, surely he’d have had an advantage against Hercules. The heart of the fragrance is a slightly herbal, spicy rose, which keeps getting infused with the rising base notes. It is a rose wrapped in leather and oakmoss, and if it wasn’t for the distinct and very obvious...”maleness” of this fragrance I know this would be something I’d enjoy. If I close my eyes, I can, if only briefly, smell the inspiration behind it. I perceive this inspiration to be the hugely successful at the time, prickly, thorny, heavy as a paperweight dropped on the head, “here I come!”, female fragrances of the era. A surprising realization, considering Chanel never released such an obvious choice for women. The box does not mention oakmoss. Having said that, it is oakmoss that I smell so clearly at this perfume’s base. Oakmoss, labdanum and patchouli. How can this be? It is entirely possible of course that I am fooled, but I swear, after some point, this is all I can smell. Yes, the drydown of Antaeus is a definite leather chypre, to my nose at least, and this is its saving grace. A nasty, putrid opening, a far too strong, oppressing heart...But then, a beautiful reward in the end. I still wouldn’t be able to call this chic, or sophisticated. Its obviousness forbids me to venture that far. Yet, the thoughtful drydown does make up for the horror I suffer every time I test this on my skin. I cannot claim to like something so strong, so abrasive. But let me put it this way: Antaeus might seem like nothing more than one of many, many others initially. A little patience though, proves that he is actually, rather unique. A giant –much like the mythological being he owes his name to- that trod a road others still refuse to follow. And yes, if only for that, he deserves to be featured as part of Forget me Not.

Please also visit For the Love of Perfume to read TMH's pick for this month's Forget me Not.

Images: www.kimcm.dk and commons.wikimedia.org

Elixir de Parfum Comme une Evidence by Yves Rocher : Perfume Review

I discovered Comme une Evidence back in June and instantly fell in love with it, specifically with the Elixir version of it. I do not have a bottle, or even a sample of the EdP version here with me in order to do a side-by-side comparison, but from what I remember, the two are as far apart as night and day. Comme une Evidence EdP is lighter and while the two are clearly siblings, the EdP seemed to me rather forgettable and unremarkable, while the Elixir is rich, voluptuous and unique. Smelling it for the first time, I had this unmistakable sense of recognition hit me. Not because Comme une Evidence smells like anything I have smelled before, but because one whiff of it is enough to transport me to a whole different era of perfumes – an era ranging from the mid 70’s to the end of the 80’s, an era during which so many of the classics I love where created. It came as a bit of a shock, to be honest, to find out it was launched in 2003. This lovely floral chypre has all the elegance, character and yes, integrity of a classic.

The opening is very green and dry, with just a hint of crispness. For the first five minutes or so, a delicious, fruity sourness seems to run through it, smelling not unlike the thin trickle left by the juice of a green, unripe crabapple. Then it subsides and slowly, the greenness unfolds like a large bud, allowing glimpses of the flowers within. Slowly, the lily of the valley and rose are produced, tantalizingly waved under the nose, with the muguet claiming center stage at first, young and fearless. It dances around on the skin like a lithe Fay creature come springtime, so happy it seems to be out and about. The rose at this point seems watery, shy and subtle. And I say seems, for before long the warmth of the skin does its magic and it too emerges, its petals opening up in defiance to the muguet. The two vie for attention for a while and then settle down apparently happy to co-exist for a while inside the arms of the ever-waning freshness. Their green bed is changing character, becoming all the more mature and haughty: A bed of moss permeated by prickly spiciness which seduces the nose with its stylish elegance. Beautiful thorns run through it, like shards of black diamonds and rubies. The defiant rose awakens and reveals it was just biding its time, crushing the lily of the valley under its manicured, clawed fist, helped by the amorous patchouli and moss that embrace it. The patchouli is sheer but potent, matching every bet made by the thorny tentacles of the rose. The scene is savage but entrancing. There’s no mistake: Spring has given way to a furious winter. Indeed, I cannot imagine this perfume being worn in anything but cold weather. So evocative is this scent, my mind has no trouble conjuring countless images when I wear it. But there is one constant image that strikes me each time I smell it. A beautiful tweed suit, the skirt grazing the knees, worn over a magnificent pair of Charles Jourdan pumps - Jourdan from the 70’s or 80’s of course, long before the house became completely unrecognizable in terms of quality and design. If there is one last thing I should add about this fragrance is that it is pure woman. This is a distinction not pertaining to sex, but indeed a distinction separating the women from the girls. This is a perfume for the former.

Images courtesy of: www.look-at.com, http://commons.wikimedia.org and www.apph25.dsl.pipex.com

Perles de Lalique : Perfume Review

I first encountered Perles de Lalique sometime last year while on a trip abroad. That first encounter was with the parfum concentration, in its feather-adorned flacon. Considered pretty by many, it was the actual flacon that put me off trying the actual jus on my skin, making me decide it was not worth skin-space at that particular moment. I now regret this, of course. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would not come across the parfum concentration again. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say... I finally came across the EdP concentration on a day of perfume sampling in another city, (those of you who’ve been reading for a while will likely guess it was indeed on a Saturday morning!) and this time I did not hesitate to try it on my skin. Smelling it for the first time, I was instantly intrigued. I considered the fact that the instant attraction I felt might be due to the fact that Perles came as a sigh of relief after having previously exposed my senses to a number of other, quite disappointing creations on the same day, but I reserved hope that it was the actual quality of the fragrance that enticed me. I have now finished two little samples of Perles de Lalique and I can finally safely say that its original allure has not subsided, but has on the contrary grown. What started off as interest and attraction has developed into affection and respect.

I imagine that the opening notes of Perles might be experienced by some as rather alarming: a blend of spicy, citrucy and very pungent geranium and Bulgarian rose effortlessly wrap around the skin like a vintage lace cuff. This tart opening has just enough sourness to keep things interesting; a yellow-ringed cobalt blue snake that upon closer inspection is not really poisonous. Behind these initial sharp edges, a smooth, flatter base is struggling to emerge, enabling the wearer to experience two dimensions at once as the fragrance begins to develop on the skin. Inhaling close, one can begin to appreciate the polished character of iris forming a harmonious amalgam with that very distinctive love-me-or-hate-me quality of musty white pepper. The woody, mossy notes at the base of this simple yet beautiful blend, bequeath a rather masculine element to the end result, ever so slightly reminiscent of Z by Zegna. This probably comes as no surprise, since iris, cashmere woods, patchouli, oak moss and white pepper are notes they both share. Subsequently, I find myself thinking that Perles de Lalique is a good candidate for a female fragrance that can be carried off equally well by both sexes. I have not yet experienced its development on male skin, but I can say that on me, Perles is a subdued but beautiful chypre. It is all sensible earrings and perfect hair, calm sophistication and self-confidence that form a vision of immaculate dignity. Yes, for me Perles de Lalique was one of the most pleasant surprises of the year 2006.

Images courtesy of www.doctissimo.fr and imagesdeparfums.forumactif.com

Montana Parfum de Peau by Claude Montana : Perfume Review for Mother’s Day

I was not planning to write a special review for Mother’s Day, in fact, I had been preparing a different review for today. But something happened yesterday, a strange coincidence, a little touch of fate that prompted me to suspend the piece I had prepared, in order to write this one, a Mother’s Day special.


As it has probably become clear by now, Saturday mornings are perfume exploration days for me and yesterday was no exception. I went to a specific perfume boutique to try out some fragrances I was not very familiar with, in order to decide which one to order online from a gift certificate I’d been given some days ago. I was walking purposefully next to the countless shelves of perfumes to reach the specific section, when my eye caught a certain blue box that made me stop dead in my tracks: Montana Parfum de Peau by Claude Montana. My heart missed a beat; I had not seen it in years, more than a decade to be exact. I thought that it was out of circulation and that I’d never happen upon it again. I was immediately flooded with emotion: On the day that every boutique in town was filled with shoppers buying gifts for Mother’s Day, I happened upon the one long-lost perfume that says 'mom' to me like no other. The coincidence was not lost on me; I knew I had to buy it and write a Mother’s Day special for today.

My mom has never been fickle with her fragrance choices. She always picks a single signature scent and sticks with it for years until something prompts her to change it. During the time that I was growing up she went through three different perfumes: Paris by Yves Saint Laurent, Nina by Nina Ricci and Montana by Claude Montana. Out of the three, only Paris is still widely available. And out of the three, it is Montana that rouses the strongest memories inside me. Wearing it now, I become a child again, reliving a scenario so oft-repeated it’s been imprinted in my mind like a schema. My mother is about to go out for the evening with my dad and she laughingly puts me into her bed to watch her, as she is getting ready. “Do I look alright, darling?” I nod, wide-eyed and utterly in awe of her dramatic blue eyes, shiny blonde hair and extravagant eighties outfit. She is about to leave and there is one last touch to complete her outfit, the perfume. Apprehension – I know my nose is going to sting and burn for a while before I can start enjoying it. I do not know whether I love or hate this perfume, but I say nothing of the sort. It forms a peppery cloud around her and she tells me I can sleep in her bed as she presses her nose against mine. The scented trail she leaves behind is so strong, it will stay with me for hours, in the air, on my skin, on the bed linen. Mom. Paris was youthful innocence, Nina was a return to romantic femininity, but Montana was always my mother as a sexual animal, a self-confident woman filled with joie de vivre and sensuality. A side of her that took me a while to consolidate with her daily image.

Montana is a floral chypre that opens up with an overwhelming burst of pepper and cardamom, combined with juicy fruits that excite the senses and leave the nose tingling. The ginger and carnation at the perfume’s heart enhance and prolong the peppery spiciness, while rose and tuberose give the fragrance depth and substance. It is the base notes however, which turn this into a truly magical concoction: amber, cedar, patchouli, olibanum, vetiver, oakmoss, musk, civet and by far my favorite of all animalic notes, castoreum, all blend together perfectly, leaving me breathless, gasping for more in a state of addiction. Not only is Montana extremely unique and grossly, clashingly peculiar, it is also deviant by nature. Having forgotten all about it for years and now experiencing it again, I realize now I had been looking for controversy and dissonance in all the wrong places. No wonder Muscs Koublai Khan smelled tame and friendly to me, when my olfactory bulb still retained the memory of Montana in its depths. Fur, sex and exuberant abandon were all waiting for me there to be rediscovered and no substitute would do. Seeing the listing of oakmoss on the box makes me surmise that this is a fresh bottle. Hopefully that means we will never have to part again.

I’d always thought of my preference for perfumes that sting and burn the nasal cavity (Paloma Picasso, Rose Cardin, Wrappings...) as a personal idiosyncrasy, a very personal taste I’d somehow developed. I thought of it as a personal quirk, an eccentric oddity of taste. Only now do I realize where it stems from and the reality of this leaves me slightly shaken, as though part of my originality has been stolen away. Yet at the same time I’ve gained insight; “Know thyself” advised the ancient Greeks and I do know just a little bit more now. My bond with my mom has been strengthened. The invisible line that connects us has been reinforced one more time. I love you, mama. Happy Mother’s Day, this one’s for you.

Images of Montana ads through the years, courtesy of imagesdeparfums.perso.orange.fr
Image of Montana on fur, my own.

L'Eau Trois by Diptyque : Perfume Review

Words could never describe how I feel about this perfume, but I will give it a try even though I’ll probably do my heart that beats to its rhythm injustice. L’Eau Trois must be one of the most unique fragrances I have ever had the joy of experiencing. I am a great lover of chypres and even though this is not traditionally identified as one, to my nose and heart it feels and behaves like one. But that does not even come into play in my mind when I think of all the reasons why I love it so. Diptyque aimed to capture the “scent of the mountainous coastline of Northern Greece” and having grown up just there I feel justified in saying that I know for a fact, they have done an outstanding job. The name too fits with Greece, even though that was most likely not the intention of the makers. Presumably they named it L’Eau Trois because it was their third perfume in the line, but orthodoxy being so tightly embedded in the way of life of the Greeks, I cannot help but think of the meaning of “three” and the role of the holy trinity in Greek daily life.

I moved away from my home country at the age of 18 and even though it is a decision I do not regret, I can’t help but feel a deep longing for it from time to time. Sensory input, in the form of sights, sounds and smells often creates the unsettling feeling of pained longing and nostalgia in my heart. I know this scent so very well... It is the scent that wafts from the hillsides and valleys in the summer as the sun bakes the herbal vegetation and shrubbery mercilessly. This is not the scent of spring or winter. This scent does not come through in shade or moisture. This is the marriage of the burning sun and the blessed herbs that withstand it. Oregano is the most prominent of those herbs, its herbal and somewhat sour character perfectly blended with thyme, myrtle, rosemary and pine. And this is all it is; I just don’t know how they captured the sun. The lasting power is excellent on my skin and I get moderate sillage out of it. I become irrationally possessive at times with this perfume, as though noone else could discover its meaning. It makes me bite my lip with shame. And then I smile, because I know I am wrong: there is a reason why it is still in production in spite (or perhaps because) of its difficult and unique character: Others have walked the same paths. Perhaps they even drove in a car with the window open just as I have, on the same roads. In the same sweltering heat, squinting their eyes because of the same glaring sun. Engulfed by the same aromatic and herbal smells. Unable to keep the smile off their face because of the prospect of the beach and crystal clear azure water that awaits them. I am not alone.

Both pictures are from Chalkidiki in Northern Greece. (alt. sp.: Halkidiki) Sources: www.travel-to-halkidiki.com and www.larioriders.it

Wrappings by Clinique : Perfume Review

Clinique launched Wrappings in 1990 as their second fragrance for women in the line. Visiting beauty counters as a very young girl at the time, I remember thinking that Clinique was the epitome of good taste and elegance when seeing Aromatics Elixir and Wrappings lined together under the rows upon rows of pastel, tastefully simple-packaged cosmetics. It was the time before all the “Happies”. Clinique was clean, austere, a step above the rest. The magazine ads for Clinique fragrances presented the two as twin sisters in their almost identical bottles and logo designs, but even then, I knew which one I preferred: Wrappings, the difficult sister, the one most people would shy away from due to her tenaciously challenging character. It was certainly not marketed towards pre-adolescent young girls, but I was in love. Wrappings has the same dry and sour character as L’eau Trois by Diptyque, but whereas L’Eau Trois can be seen as almost rural and evocative of bucolic, pastoral scenes, Wrappings reeks of good breeding. In that sense, it is a refined, elegant choice with the same air as Private Collection, smelling of privilege and money. It is a green, aldehydic chypre, with many flowery, marine and herbal notes. Most notably one can revel in its pine-like green accord, held together masterfully by nutmeg and lavender oils. Roses, cyclamens, jasmine and of course carnations form the flowery heart of the perfume, with beautiful moss and cedar acting as the base. But the notes say almost nothing of the creation itself; It is so expertly blended, none of them pop out sharply. One would be hard-pressed to define Wrappings as an explicitly sexy perfume – it is not. It is a scent a woman chooses for herself and not for others. But if she chooses it for the right reasons, Wrappings can become inexplicably alluring on her, a true signature scent. Chic sophistication and self-assuredness in a bottle. Unfortunately, it has been discontinued here in Europe, but thankfully it can still be purchased online. For how long, I wonder?

Pictures courtesy of www.fragrancenow.net and www.1stperfume.com respectively.