Forget me Not: Nina (Original) by Nina Ricci

Maria ‘Nina’ Nielli was born to an Italian family from Turin. The family relocated to France in 1895 when Nina was just 12 and by the age of 13, the young girl was already an apprentice to a dressmaker. Her considerable talent did not go unnoticed: by 18 she was already the head of the salon and at 22 she became its chief designer. Her marriage to jeweler Luigi Ricci bore an only son, Robert Ricci (pictured left, with mother Nina), with whom she shared an exceptional bond. Despite her great talent and capabilities, it wasn’t until 1932 that Madame Ricci started her own couture house at the age of 50, with Robert’s encouragement. With Robert, a keen businessman, as director and Nina as designer, the newly found House of Ricci saw immediate success, growing rapidly year after year throughout the ‘30s. This success however, was never due to groundbreaking designs that shook the foundations of the fashion world; the appeal of Ricci’s designs was never due to notoriety. Rather, the house became as successful as it did because it expertly catered to the needs of elegant women, often of a certain age and - one likes to muse - possibly possessing cracking figures at the same time, considering Ricci’s creations during the height of her carrier were rather body conscious. Nina’s primary goal was never to impress the fashion world, but rather, to make each individual client fall in love with the dress they were buying. The attention to detail, the supreme elegance, the excellent cut and structure of the garments as well as the fact that they brought magic and romance back into the lives of the women that wore them, meant profound success for the House of Ricci. Even after Nina Ricci’s retirement in the 50’s, and even after her death in 1970, the style she established was kept alive by Robert’s wise choices of designers that matched the house’s vision. Sadly, after Robert’s own death in 1988, and especially after the house’s acquisition by Puig, things have not been as stable, but thankfully, the future is looking much brighter after the very successful collections of the last few years - especially now, with Theyskens at the helm. One thing’s for sure, the direction of the house has certainly changed towards a younger audience and unfortunately, this is also reflected on the perfumes. There is however a redeeming trait - both in the collections and the perfumes themselves we can trace a constant throughout the years: romance. And keeping at least one constant alive is essential to brand recognition and customer loyalty. When reaching for a Ricci fragrance, a taste of romance is inevitable.

But let’s go back to Robert, the loving, visionary son, the cunning businessman, the creative idealist. He not only was responsible for convincing Nina to finally starting her own couture house, but being passionate about fragrances himself, he was also responsible for starting Nina Ricci’s first subdivision by venturing into the world of perfumery. Coeur Joie, the first fragrance by the house, comes in what has to be the most beautiful bottle in the world. L’Air du Temps, the third fragrance is one of the most well known perfumes in the world. But today’s post has nothing to do with either of these exceptional perfumes. Today we take a look at one of the most beautiful fragrances the House of Ricci has ever produced, yet somehow let go. The fragrance in question is the astounding Nina, created by Robert Ricci in 1987 as homage to his beloved mother. Different sources attribute a different nose behind Nina: others cite Christian Vacchiano as the nose and others Francis Fabron. I personally tend to lean towards Francis Fabron (L’Air du Temps, Capricci, Baghari, L’Interdit, Le Dix) as the correct answer to this dilemma, because his other perfumes –especially L’Air du Temps- match Nina’s sensibilities so well. The aldehydes, the almost fragile femininity, the softness... to my senses, almost all of them bear his signature, which I also perceive in Nina. Smelling L’Air du Temps and Nina together, it feels like they are part of the same story, with Nina picking up where L’Air du Temps had left off. Nina’s aldehydic opening is so astoundingly beautiful that it begs you to come closer and breathe in deeply even as it is applied. Beautifully aromatic peach, surprisingly without a single trace of sweetness gives the opening a fruity flavor, while the effervescent fizz of the aldehydes is studded with citrusy gems that sparkle as bright as diamonds. The combination of tagetes and bay leaf, give the composition an herbal twist and a spicy bite. The floral heart of the fragrance is blended into seamless perfection, bringing to mind images of vibrant femininity instead of lush gardens. The longer Nina stays on the skin, the more it bursts with greenness, as though the goddess of spring herself is rejoicing in her beauty. Nina’s drydown is an apotheosis of oakmoss and civet, glorious and unforgettable.

This is an utterly romantic and feminine fragrance of unsurpassed elegance. Its bottle that has always grabbed my attention, is a truly beautiful work of art, which still has me wondering about its meaning. Perhaps I am biased, for I have loved this fragrance since childhood, but to me, the scent of Nina is extraordinarily addictive. It is a scent that speaks of gladsomeness, but also of fragility. It is romantic and feminine, but at the same time betrays a strong will. The generous doses of oakmoss mean that Nina too, like many gloriously green fragrances, has a certain aloofness. Commitment, loyalty, femininity, romance, sophistication are all words that describe Nina, but the one I always invariably return to for its true definition, is elegance. This classic has now been discontinued, and is getting increasingly hard to find. Its place is taken by the tooth-achingly sweet and as far removed from the original as possible, new Nina. Not many people remember the original, a fact that truly pains me. Today’s Forget me Not has a very special place in my heart. I’ll never forget Nina.

Lastly, this fragrance is both hard to find and I own it, so you know what this means, right? Yep, this combo always qualifies for a draw here on Fragrance Bouquet. When you post a comment you’ll be automatically entered in a draw for a sample of this. The winner will be announced in a week’s time.

To see most of the fragrances ever released by the house of Ricci, visit the official website, choose english, and click on perfume and lastly fragrances throughout the years. And of course, don’t forget to visit For the Love of Perfume to find out which classic Tamara chose to review for this month’s feature!

Images: www.toutenparfum.com, www.ninaricci.fr, author's own

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)

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: Private Collection by Estée Lauder

Private Collection was created in 1973 and was allegedly Estée Lauder’s signature fragrance, a scent that became synonymous with the image of good taste she projected throughout her life. The story goes that before this fragrance was made accessible to the general public, it was only available to three women: Lauder herself, Princess Grace of Monaco and Wallis, the Duchess of Windsor. Allegedly, Lauder gifted these remarkable women the exclusive privilege to this perfume because they loved it so much.

My personal love affair with this perfume started when, still very young, I smelled it on a friend of my mother’s, and experiencing complete and utter wonderment, I was left with no choice but to fall under its spell. I wish I could remember who the mystery woman was, but I cannot. Private Collection has completely eclipsed her presence, her features, her name. Only it remains, a bright beacon in the dark alleyways of long lost memories. I remember thinking that it was the most unique perfume I’d ever smelled – a perfume, but not a perfume, an extension of one’s personality, a stamp of character, something I could not quite touch. It smelled like nothing I’d ever smelled before. I feel a little shaken thinking how wildly unbelievable it is that I feel the same to this day. Private Collection stands alone, as inexplicably unique today as it was then. At 16, I finally felt adult enough to buy myself a bottle of what I then considered to be the most exquisite perfume ever made. It seemed inordinately expensive to my young self (well, in all honesty, it was inordinately expensive back then, if only by comparison) and I was only able to afford the tiny 30ml EdP. Both the price and the age I chose to buy it seem laughable in retrospect. While I hate to put age labels on any kind of perfume, Private Collection is one of the few exceptions. I don’t know what convinced me that I could pull it off at 16. This should not be worn by anyone that is not at the very least in their 20s! Even now, my mind screams that this last sentence should read “no one under 30” instead, but I guess I can’t help but wish to retain the right to wear it. Or at least fool myself that I can.

I could tell you that Private Collection opens with the most wonderful autumnal chrysanthemums, studded with sparkling raindrops of a passing storm. Earthy and ever so slightly sour, they are as real as the ones I used to shun in our garden as a child, in favor of more visually impressive blooms, and miss so much now. I could tell you of the most unbelievable rendition of hyacinths and narcissi, how they merge with blossoms white of orange and jasmine, so seductive, they almost feel narcotic. I’d write about how ingeniously the linden blossoms start us on the path of green, enhanced as we go, first by traces of grass and sap of leaves and vines and then soon by the evergreen needles and deep galbanum. And yet all this would still manage to say nothing about what Private Collection really is. It is the woman whose hair is always in place. She is not sexy, or necessarily beautiful. She has presence, both evident from her structure, which is neither delicate nor frail and from her unwavering gaze, which is always demanding the best of everyone. She is understated luxury, old money and sophistication. She’ll look good when she’s old. She is, more than anything else really, detached. Few women manage to close the distance between this powerful fragrance and themselves in order to truly make it theirs. I know I haven’t, and suspect I never will. But that’s the beauty of a fragrance wardrobe. Private Collection can be used as a tool, on days and occasions when it is needed to project a certain image, a certain facet of ourselves. It will be there when we need to protect ourselves under a shield or numb the pain. It will be there when we need to keep our distance and it will force us to stand tall when we need to impress. The rest of the time we’ll be giving in to our vices and passions.

Don’t forget to check Tamara’s entry!

Images: commons.wikimedia.com (Grace Kelly, Lauder with customer, Chrysanthemums)