Lolita Lempicka : I Love You Just the Way You Are (Or How I Hate Flankers, and Fleur Defendue in Particular)

Long before it became en vogue to take vintage clothes and redesign, modernize and/or embellish them, Josiane Pividal did just that, soon becoming a success, and after designing for Cacharel for a while, she went on to create her own label in 1983. The label was christened Lolita Lempicka (correctly pronounced Lem-PI-tska by the way, even though the intro on the official website would have you think otherwise), a composite name paying homage to both Vladimir Nabokov’s novel and to Tamara Lempicka, Polish art nouveau painter. In 1997, the house of Lolita Lempicka launched its first fragrance, the homonymous Lolita Lempicka, in eau de parfum. Some fragrances are the same, with very little variation when comparing different concentrations (take Allure Sensuelle for example: the edt is slightly more citrusy up top and slightly less intense overall, but is indeed the same fragrance as the edp), while others vary extensively. When the eau de toilette version of Lolita Lempicka hit the market, it was immediately obvious that it belonged to the second category – it was almost like smelling a different fragrance. Releasing an edt that is so distinctly different was a clever move, for undoubtedly, there is indeed a market for the skinny version of the calorific, opulent vanillic gourmand-oriental. It wasn’t for me however, so I never really paid it too much attention: I remain now just as devoted to the marvelous original as I was then. A sophisticated, updated version of the bombshell gourmand Angel, Lolita Lempicka is playful, feminine, sexy, edible, incredibly long-lasting and immediately noticeable. It also happens to be the one fragrance in my wardrobe that consistently garners the most compliments – both by men and women. The fact that this self-proclaimed fairytale fragrance happens to come in a bottle straight out of a fairytale itself, means I have one more reason to never want to be without it.

What I don’t like about Lolita Lempicka, is that it has produced a sea of flankers so vast, it is enough to confuse the most savvy of sales assistants. Is LL under constant threat of assassination? With more -as exquisitely dressed and fabulously made-up to be just as fair as she- decoys than intergalactic royalty Queen Padme Amidala herself, one would rightly think so! We have Fleur de Minuit (Midnight Flower), a successor to 2004’s L’Eau de Minuit, amplifying the darkness and muskiness of the original, but curbing the ivy freshness and slightly sour cherry note that made it so special. (Worth a sniff though, since the powdery note of the drydown is particularly sexy) We have Les Caprices de Lolita (Lolita’s Whims) which comprise of three different versions of the original, playing up different notes: Caprice Amarena, playing up the Amarena Cherry theme, Caprice Violette, playing up the violet theme and Caprice Reglisse, playing up the licorice theme. We have Eau de Parfum Concentre, in its very own darling vial, a more concentrated version of the original, the exact same promise made by Fleur de Minuit... We have plain Midnight AND Star Dust Midnight Fragrance. We have Eau d’Ete Parfumee, an alcohol-free version. We have Transcendant Sin, the only one so far that rightly deserves its place in the range (and one I hope will become permanent), a limited edition in crystal, which is the pure extrait concentration of the original, with a magnifying glass poised over patchouli leaves and licorice. And finally, we now also have Fleur Defendue (Forbidden Flower), which I’ll have to admit I was quite excited about before actually smelling it. Fleur Defendue looked different, with its slightly anemic, mildly poisonous looking, yellow-green, ripe avocado colored juice. The similarly colored bottle further enhanced this mental association with poisonous, forbidden fruit, hanging in enchanted orchards. I was really hoping this would be a sufficiently different scent to the original, playing with the pure green of meadows and the stinging, yellow-green of bewitched marshes. Well, let me cut to the chase: Fleur Defendue has the fruity-green overtone of Fructis shampoo and just as much sex-appeal. The juice indeed plays with the idea of freshly cut grass, but the result is harsh and badly executed. With anis, licorice and vanilla waaaay back in the background and cherry nowhere to be found, this flanker manages to shed all of the warm, playful aspects that made the original so appealing. It is not quite generic, but it definitely does not deserve to be a shareholder of the fabulous bottle: it cheapens the whole image. It is not stellar. It is not even good. But it is passable and pleasant, clearly aiming at an even younger demographic which I suspect will actually be made really happy with this release during the warmer months.

What is my point? I guess my point is to raise a question on whether all those flankers were really needed and whether they do a good thing (or indeed the opposite) for the brand’s image. Catherine Dauphin, Pacific Creation’s CEO, was quoted in Emballage Digest saying:

“With Lolita Lempicka, we spent a lot of time building the foundations. The different versions and limited editions were designed to gain a strong foothold on the market and the figures would indicate that this approach was the right one: women find Lolita Lempicka very attractive and a genuine relationship has developed between the product and its users.”

Is this actually true, I wonder? How do all these flankers actually help in building a trusting relationship between the average consumer and the brand? Personally all these releases leave me confused and disappointed: Lolita Lempicka is a fragrance I absolutely adore, so when a flanker is released it does, of course, grab my attention. However, when the line becomes so prolific, I can’t help but feel lost and disenchanted. I cannot possibly afford to invest in every different version of the scent, especially when 99% of them are so very close to the original. Many lovers of the scent will be forced to buy these unsniffed, since most department stores only offer testers of the edt and edp. The only thing that comes out of this in my eyes, is disappointment for the true devotees of the scent, who end up feeling they do not have the means to explore each stunningly bottled version of their favorite. What this extraordinarily confusing line of flankers really is, is a bottle collector’s wet dream.

Images: Parfums Lolita Lempicka

Ma Folie de Noel by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz : Perfume Review

Do you remember how easily reality could change into enchanted playgrounds when you were a child? Do you remember how the air itself in an old cellar could suddenly assume presence, cold and damp, smelling of something far away, possibly touched by wizardry? Creatures would lurk in shadows and treasures untold were waiting to be discovered in long disused drawers. With no adults around to break the spell, nothing was ordinary and everything was potentially magical. The portals to other worlds were there all the time, their smells and textures enhanced tenfold. True magic, better than any novel, better than any dream; Russet velvets and gold coins, smells of dust and dried flowers and furs in the closet, fruits and nuts in a basket that may or may not have been made of wax, spiderwebs sparkling with dew and countless colorful buttons in an intricate box saved by grandma... all magic, all toys, all props for the wondrous worlds only a child’s fantasies could create. Do you remember? I had forgotten... And then my sample packet from DSH arrived and I felt drawn into this time-warp, only to emerge on the other side almost tearful for the witchcraft lost in time. I’ve fallen in love with these scents, so unlike anything else I’ve ever smelled, so unlike every other perfume that fits my adult world perfectly. These are scents that enable the wearer to suspend belief, bend reality, bring back the magic. They are a bit in fact, like wearing a fairytale.

Her scents make me smile, they make me curious, willing to explore like a child. They make me forget about time constraints, they re-introduce me to a world full of enchantments. They evoke memories and feelings. From the moment I started sampling them I have been overwhelmed by my own excitement and I’ve regretted not discovering them sooner. The scents I have sampled so far are not ones I can imagine wearing with a sharp suit, as I would for example something by Sisley. I did mean it when I said that these scents are unlike anything that perfectly fits my adult world. They are softer around the edges; they are moments in time, the part of a cloud where the sun breaks through, a memory, a strange object out of a treasure chest. I cherish them. There are so many things that I can wear with high heels and a crisp white shirt and so few that make my heart feel this long-lost delight with everyday beauty.

The first DSH fragrance I have chosen to review is Ma Folie de Noel, a scent that perfectly describes the wistfulness so many of the samples evoked inside me. In fact, it is a scent that coincidentally also describes Dawn Spencer Hurwitz’s own nostalgic childhood experiences, being an amalgam of Holiday scents from her past. I can’t say that it conjures similar Christmassy memories for me too – my own Christmases were filled with very different smells: spice, cinnamon, cloves, icing sugar, almonds, orange rinds and myriads of traditional Greek delights. This fragrance has nevertheless touched me with its beauty, even though the name does not fit my own view of the winter holidays. Ma Folie de Noel opens with a very prominent anis note of remarkable beauty. It does not feel thick or heavy, but transparent and watery, like a mist. Then slowly, it becomes candied, like boiled anis sweets. There is a certain chocolate undertone there, and indeed, every time I wear Ma Folie de Noel, this stage makes me think of eating good dark chocolate with lovely, crunchy, tiny anis-candy fragments in it. As the chocolate disappears, the anis remains for a while still, this time with a peculiar, nutty vein running through it. The scent intensifies, gaining momentum, becoming warmer and spicier as time goes by. Smelling close, I can clearly discern the base on which it is built – a lovingly built tier of resinous musk. It feels as though the base notes are flowing upwards, permeating the ceiling through the mezzanine. The anis note now entirely gone, we enter the most luxurious phase of this perfume. A gentlemen’s club, with the light smell of vanilla-scented cigarette smoke lingering in the air, desks topped with buttery leather and unfinished glasses of Rémy Martin Cognac littering the small round tables. I love how the boozy smell of cognac and vanilla smoke enfolds my skin... There is a certain masculine sense there, that makes me want to bury my nose in my own skin – I find it immensely comforting and sexy at the same time. I also find it strange that in this stage I perceive the opoponax as smelling of wonderful, sweet leather when combined with the cognac and vanilla. Is it just me? But I digress... The anis is resurrected in the drydown, this time very light, understated and tame. It flows seamlessly through as the cognac note dissipates, smelling faintly of the lightly aniseedic flavor raisin pips impart when crushed. It is now that the opoponax note truly shows its beauty. It is dark and sweet and ever so lightly smoky, blending gorgeously with the smell of the skin itself. It positively enhances the skin’s own scent, creating an ultra-seductive musky murmur. It imbues the skin with warmth, a veil of saturated darkness, lit from within with joyous flames. If I could only describe the feeling it gives me, it would be that of a happy winter heart. It is the feel of my skin, finding warmth under a cashmere-silk blend sweater, snug under a soft leather jacket, walking the silent wintry streets in the arms of my loved one. If I could describe the perfect occasion instead, it would be in front of the fireplace on a cold snowy night. This has definitely become my favorite comfort/sexiness blend. I must have it – I don’t think the sample is going to last me through the month, let alone winter.

Images:
Vintage buttons courtesy of www.buttonzjewelry.com
Picture of Anis de Flavigny candy courtesy of www.cadeaux.com
Image of winter night, courtesy of www.worldisround.com, made by Shahram Razavi.

Fuel for Life by Diesel : Perfume Reviews

I looove Diesel. I love the brand, the ads, I love the clothes. The jeans are amazing – nothing like a Diesel pair to create, nay, sculpt that perfect derrière that will lift my mood and give me an instant boost of confidence. Oh yes, I swear by them. And lately, I’ve also been rather taken by Diesel accessories, ever since the Boule Bag stole my heart last year. (I am still kicking myself for not buying it the one time when I saw it in lovely, aged cognac brown – the purple didn’t move me in the same way and so I’ve remained Boule-less, *sigh*) Despite my infatuation with the brand, I’d never smelled any of Diesel’s previous perfumed offerings. The new Fuel for Life fragrances are everywhere right now though and dressed as they are in their little outfits, they simply beg to be touched, picked up and inevitably sprayed on the skin. How do they fare? Mighty well in my opinion.

Fuel for Life Pour Homme:

The notes are intriguing, mixing the traditionally masculine along with the unexpectedly playful. What pleases me most about this scent, is that everything is used in what I am tempted to call moderation, but really, is just the perfect dose. To give an example: Both the top and base notes employ an anis element – aniseed in the top notes and immortelle in the base notes. On paper, this might seem as though Fuel for Life Pour Homme delivers an ouzo-like, liquorice punch, but in reality, the result is a continuous, candied and at the same time almost salty, anis veil, not strong enough to pop-out as a stand alone note distracting from the composition, but as a lovely primer on the canvas, a constant upon the rest of the notes bloom. The fragrance is woody and herbal, with accents of lavender and vetiver making it definitively masculine. At the same time the anis and fruity notes give it an unexpected twist, modernizing the fougere base, making it delightfully contemporary. Even though it is not listed as an official note, I could swear there is oudh in the blend as well, leaving a lasting impression throughout the development. It helps along the lovely interplay between coolness and warmth, sharpness and mystery. What I love most about the scent? The vivacious, playful note of raspberry, which is carefully used, once again in just the right amount. It is not tart, overly sweet or chemical, but wonderfully soft instead - as though blended with clotted cream and a sprinkling of sugar. I have no doubt that I would hate this note had I found it in a female fragrance, but in this undoubtedly masculine blend it makes me grin with pleasure - not only because the idea of it in a male fragrance excites me, but also because it fits the composition so very well, giving it that something extra naughty.

Fuel for Life Pour Femme:

Fragrances dominated by patchouli can go either very wrong or very, very right in my book. I have previously elaborated on how previous bad experiences led me to shy away from patchouli and how I learned to love it, once I found the right perfume to ease me into its charms. Well, “ease into” is certainly a euphemism, putting it lightly, when the fragrance in question, the fragrance that opened my eyes to the beauty of this note, was actually L’Inspiratrice, a veritable patchouli queen. A more fitting phrase for that experience would have been “baptême du feu”, baptism of fire! I still consider it a difficult note though, and even houses I love have been found guilty of abusing it. (Matsuri by Annayake comes to mind...) Fuel for Life is another scent built around this ostentatious note, but one that manages to get it right. This is fruity patchouli, with a pleasantly sour opening. Once the top cassis notes fly off, we enter a world of beautiful, jasmine infused patchouli. The jasmine in this case is not overpowering – its allure is transparent, its thin tendrils gently enfolding the patchouli with affection. Even more exciting is the appearance of a green leaf note, which slowly imparts the impression of crushed fresh mint leaves unto the heart of the scent. My only regret is that this fabulous mint note does not have more lasting power, more tenacity. All too soon it disappears, taking the jasmine with it, leaving me with the feeling I didn’t get to enjoy either of them nearly as much as I would have liked to. Fortunately, the drydown is beautiful, and even though it does not manage to erase the memory of the vibrant mint, I find myself enjoying its powdery, dry finish. Befitting Diesel’s image, Fuel for Life Pour Femme is a patchouli most suited for day-wear, sheer and cheerful as it is. It is rare, I think, to find a patchouli that is summery, but this is exactly how I perceive this interpretation of the note to be. Summery and alive as well as feminine and sexy, I find Fuel for Life to be the daytime answer to all the nighttime patchouli vamps.

Images: Author’s own, www.wildoats.com, http://environnement.ecoles.free.fr and www.wildcrafted.com.au