A Scent by Issey Miyake : Perfume Review

If Issey Miyake did not yet manage to rid his name of any connotations of the dark era of insipid, unisex, ozonic perfumery with his cult, avant-garde masterpiece Le Feu d’Issey, the time has surely come with the newest addition in the Miyake fragrance lineup, simply titled A Scent by Issey Miyake. Not that either the bottle or the name help much in the quest of deliverance from these preconceived notions: the bottle, looking as if it is fashioned out of a simple, shining slab of glass, frosted on the sides to resemble the primitive rawness of the material out of which the polished final product emerges, stays even truer to the keystones of minimalist design than the original L’Eau. So fundamental is the design, it almost seems like an exaggerated representation of what a minimalist perfume bottle should look like. This is either a bottle that takes minimalism too seriously or a bottle created with a good dose of humor. As for the name, well, it can’t get any more elemental than that. Again, minimalism infinitesimally exaggerated and underscored.

So take all this and add to it my disdain for the original L’Eau d’Issey, groundbreaking for sure at the time and set to become a classic, but oh so virulent (well, it wouldn’t be a classic if it wasn’t) and oh so suffocating under the pretence of minimalist, diaphanous freshness. This seemed to ring a bell at first sight, providing a trepid sense of déjà vu that wasn’t very pleasant. But thankfully, first sight isn’t quite the same as first sniff. It was at first sniff that all my resistance and apprehension crumbled. A Scent is beautiful!



A Scent opens with a delicate, lightly sweet citrus-verbena on a fresh, musky backdrop tinged with the lactonic greenness of grass. By no means are the notes sharply outlined: aldehydes smudge the picture with their frothy nature and this image of a clear spring day is beautifully diffused and romantic. The sweetness is gradually stripped off as we are eased into the heart, a gorgeous blast of green intensifying until it finally takes over. Gorgeous, supremely green, surprisingly frosty and metallic galbanum reveals itself to be the star of A Scent. Hyacinth joins in (and oh how beautiful it is to find this gorgeous combination of notes again in a modern fragrance), supporting the greenness and adding a beautiful green-floral touch. A garland of jasmine (stripped off of any animalic, carnal tendencies) wraps around the green column bringing a hint of warmth to the cool blend, as well as a compelling exotic aura. The base showcases a subtly earthy, mossy cord with soapy tonalities, which hours later will dry down to a dried hay skin-scent. What is most striking about A Scent, and what I believe will please most perfume lovers who profess their love and nostalgia for the classics of the past, is that it pays beautiful, honest homage to the Great Greens: Vent Vert, Chanel No. 19, Ivoire, Murasaki. The connection with the first two is especially evident. Perfumer Daphné Bugey has reinterpreted the classic green for Issey Miyake adding just a gentle touch of quiet, modern femininity for the current market. The main difference, if you will, is that this is a subtler, more diffuse rendition of green. One thing’s for certain: the department store shelves haven’t seen a new release like this in years. There have been fragrances beautiful, magnificent, stellar even. But it’s been a great long time since we last saw a fearless green.

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 : Chloé (Original) by Chloé

It would be hard to imagine fashion in today’s world without prêt-a-porter. Up until the 50’s however, luxury ready-to-wear fashion was unheard of. When it comes to the question of who popularized high fashion as we know it, most remember Yves Saint Laurent who was indeed the first couturier to open a ready-to-wear boutique, Rive Gauche in 1966. Some will even remember that Givenchy and the visionary Pierre Cardin both launched their own pret-a-porter lines in the late 1950s - in a period when launching a ready-to-wear line as a couturier was considered such a taboo, that Cardin actually ended up being expelled from the Chambre Syndicale de Haute Couture for a short while before being reinstated. It was however, quite a few years earlier, in 1952 that the wind of change actually blew, when two true innovators, Jacques Lenoir and Gaby Aghion, launched the first luxury prêt-a-porter fashion house – Chloé. High fashion suddenly became more affordable, appealing to a larger audience, and it is beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was their footsteps that both Givenchy and Pierre Cardin were following shortly after.

Pastels and muted colors, eyelet and lace details, chiffon and musselin fabrics, gauzy and transparent styles have all been staples in Chloé’s fluid clothing ever since the house was first established. Throughout the years, two words define Chloé best: femininity and romance. To that extent, I simply can’t imagine a better candidate to carry the name of the house on its bottle than the original Chloé, launched in 1975. This beautiful spring fragrance is carefree and innocent, despite the indolic character of some of the notes. It is a scent built around a young, uncompromising beauty: a wonderful rendition of tuberose which manages to be at once green and at the same time creamy throughout the development. The top notes are sparkling and green with the barest, tiniest hint of coconut, which miraculously manages to not make its presence loudly known, but rather adds to the overall feel of the fragrance. By this I mean that even though the note is not instantly recognizable unless you purposely sniff close looking for it, it adds weight to the top notes and gives a slightly sticky sensation. It sounds bizarre, but I feel it even enhances the greenness of the scent. This opening is all girl, utterly youthful and slightly naive. The warmth of the skin slowly brings the heart notes to the fore though, and suddenly youthful naiveté is transformed into the joys of womanhood. The tuberose is unapologetic and strong – its scent deep and lifelike. Indolic notes of orange blossom and jasmine invite others to come closer, in the most seductive manner. Civet lances through the composition in a way that makes the heart skip a beat - an unmistakable invitation to explore one’s sexuality. The drydown is musky and deep, beguiling and ultra-feminine. The whole composition is indeed a sigh of pleasure, an open invitation to enjoy spring: sunny, erotic, flowery, green, feminine... It’s all Chloé.

...And yet, it is no more. The scent has been discontinued and this year the house of Chloé treated us to a new incarnation of the scent. Is it any good? I haven’t smelled it yet even though it recently hit the shelves here as well. Did the original smell dated? Perhaps. The brand does try to appeal to a youthful market – the “Chloé Girl” – and as we know the scent du jour for such a market has to be an inoffensive fruity floral. But herein lies the danger of introducing a fragrance that has a name homonymous to that of your company. The scent that carries the name becomes a signature of the house itself, an embodiment of its style and values. It is a statement that’s hard to revoke unless you axe the fragrance itself when it has served its purpose.



The Original Chloé is still easy to find at online perfume discounters.
Please check Tamara’s pick for this month’s Forget me Not by clicking here.

Images: Pret-a-Porter french movie poster, http://wikimedia.commons.org
Chloé bottle and box from www.imaginationperfumery.com
The original, controversial, Lilly-stopper flacon of Chloé in miniature format, www.scentserely.com

Sung by Alfred Sung : Perfume Review

Launched in 1986, Sung was the first fragrance release by Canadian designer Alfred Sung. From what I understand, Sung is not only widely available in North America, but also very popular. Not so in these parts! I’ve only seen Sung actually sold around here once, many years ago. This was at the “Glamour Shop”, a little boutique in Amsterdam’s Magna Plaza. My recollection of the boutique is quite hazy – I only visited it once or twice before it closed down – but the regret I felt when I discovered the shop no longer existed is still palpable. That place was lovely – filled with perfume collector items, bottles I’d never seen before, feathers and dusts, beautiful presentations and wonderful service. Sung captured me at first sniff – it was one of those rare occasions I did not have to think much before making my purchase. For a while, it was all I wore, then slowly, I begun circulating my other perfumes again until I begun reaching for it on progressively rarer occasions. Years later, I still own the same bottle I bought at the Glamour Shop. I have perhaps used up 40ml of its 100ml contents. It is not that I no longer like it; I do, very much so in fact. The reasons why my bottle is still more than half-full are much more benign than dislike. Firstly, Sung is a truly strong fragrance – one or two sprays are more than enough. It is not dynamite – it is not an aggressive padded shoulders and big hair ‘80s fragrance, but it is still, however, a child of its time: Big sillage, big flowers, big everything. Secondly, keeping my applications rare, means that whenever I wear it, I get to enjoy a little time-travel action... A little trip back to that month (a dreary April), years ago, when I first bought it. A trip back to a period when I was discovering what it is like to be truly independent for the first time.

Sung’s opening is very green and fruity at once. There is the citrusy bite of hesperidic fruit, like tiny, sharp explosions on a bed of green, sappy vines and green, slightly bitter, resinous and subtly musky galbanum. Quite soon, those little explosions settle down, giving a more uniform impression of tart freshness. Slowly, as the fragrance warms on the skin, most of the citrusy tartness flies off and the scent itself at once appears warmer too. The heart is an explosion of (mostly) white florals, with jasmine, muguet and orange blossom combining to create almost a paroxysm of delirious, narcotic redolence. Hyacinth brings a semblance of balance to this maddeningly seductive dance by adding a touch of sober greenness. Lastly, even though I’ve not seen it mentioned as an official note, now and again I get the impression of gardenias, large and creamy. Sung’s drydown is full of intense, mossy greenness, balsamic, with hints of pine and closes with earthy, dry vetiver.

Sung’s personality does not echo French sensibilities – this is a very obviously North American fragrance, very 80’s Lauder-like in feel. It is extremely feminine, and by that I certainly do not mean stereotypically soft or gently romantic. It is instead, strong, capable, beautiful and seductive all at once. I did mean it when I said that one or two sprays are enough though! The Sung Essential Body Lotion is a very good alternative if you are worried about over-applying. It is very true to the scent, only softer. Unfortunately though, it is not very emollient. What is your own impression of Sung? Is it available where you live? As I mentioned in the beginning of this post, Alfred Sung fragrances are not (to my knowledge) available here. I have been curious about the rest of the line ever since I fell in love with Sung, so if you have impressions about the rest, please do share. I am especially interested in the newest, Jewel, whose bottle is just breathtaking!


Image of Magna Plaza from http://p.vtourist.com, Images of Sung and Jewel from http://alfredsung.com

Forget me Not : Ivoire by Balmain

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

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

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

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

Antonia’s Flowers by Antonia’s Flowers : Perfume Review

Two weeks of beautiful sunny days, not a hint of rain in sight. And then suddenly, the rain and cold are back, everything changed. The weather started taking a turn for the worse last night and today we woke up to overcast skies and dreary rain. When you live in a country dominated by the wind and rain, you start thinking about the weather a lot. Talking about it, even. It becomes a conversation point. Talking about the weather is so pedestrian, part of my mind tells me. But it can’t be helped; the joys of spring still flagrant in my mind, how can I not lament the loss of the sun’s warm rays on my skin? Who’d ever choose for the tears of rain on their face when they could have the fond caress of sun on their cheeks? They skies should never have to be so gray in May.

There are so many ways to choose a perfume, so many ways to use it. There are perfumes that are not so much part of my wardrobe but integral parts of my character that I use to underscore and highlight who I really am; perfumes that are one with my identity, my spirit. There are perfumes I use for seduction or to express my mood. There are yet others, which let me travel back to the past or help me reach grounds my feet have never touched. And there are still perfumes I’d never wear outside, so incongruent are they to my character, but that I still have to have to use as balm – soothing remedies for those times when not everything in my day is right. One such is Antonia’s Flowers signature fragrance.

It was for those qualities that I was looking for today in my perfume and I instinctively reached for it. I longed for its freshness, its cheeriness, its optimism. Antonia’s Flowers was created in conjunction with perfumer Bernard Chant and was launched in 1985. It focuses on the designer’s beloved freesia and even though it does not quite strike me as a soliflore, this is the only flower note I can clearly discern. It is softly accentuated by lily, but the jasmine and magnolia never make an appearance for me. Despite its ‘living flower’ technology, I have to assert that to me, natural freesia is much headier. The freesia in Antonia’s Flowers is soft and green, never quite as boozy as the bouquets the tables of my paternal home were always adorned with in Easter. Perhaps this is different in other concentrations of the perfume – I have only experienced the EdT. But this is far from criticism. It is this fresh, lush greenness that draws me to this perfume on rainy days such as this one. The overall effect of the fragrance is freshly cut grass, so luscious and juicy as can only grow in rainy countries such as this one. In the opening the green is joined by sparkling and slightly sharp citrus that dissipates before you even knew it was there, to give rise to the grassy field where the sun is projecting its rays between the shadows cast by the foliage of the trees. There is a slightly musty accord there too, that struggles to come through from time to time, the mildewy scent of dump clothes. Instead of finding it a turn-off, this is a smell that makes me happy in this fragrance, as though the green field was not eerily quiet, but alive with boys and girls laughingly drenching each other with water, partly to tease, partly to cool themselves from the summer’s heat. A game I’ve often played in childhood... It is this accord too, that makes me marvel at how lively the freesia in this perfume really is. It is a scent that often rises from the flowering bulbs, but not from the cut flowers. After a couple of hours of wear, the grassy smell becomes soft enough to allow the true flowery character of this fragrance to bloom. And it blooms in the softest, quietest manner possible. Unobtrusive, dewy and green, Antonia’s Flowers is simple and cheerful. The sense of spring, gentle and true: perfect balm for a rainy day.

Pictures courtesy of www1.odn.ne.jp and www.thebulbman.com respectively.