Pulp and Chembur by ByRedo : Perfume Reviews

Word on the street is that Ben Gorham is one of us. Yes, the ex-professional basketball player is really a perfume junkie, a fragrance nut, just like us. Mr. Gorham founded his own company, ByRedo (By Redolence) in 2006, and started testing the scented waters first with high quality candles, room sprays, soaps and body products. Earlier this year, he launched his first personal fragrance line, a collection of five unisex fragrances in Eau de Parfum concentration, named Green, Chembur, Gypsy Water, Rose Noir and Pulp. While the company’s logo bears striking resemblance to that of Parfumerie Generale, and the bottles themselves are quite reminiscent of the ones in the Frédéric Malle line, the premise behind the scents sounds very promising: They are all based on Gorham’s memories, little snapshots of life, places and people, that nose Jerome Epinette was entrusted with, in order to encapsulate them into precious, scented liquid. Now that is memorable. And so are the two scents I’ve had the pleasure of testing more extensively, Chembur and Pulp.

· Pulp: Even though I don’t generally get along with overly fruity scents, one of my most surprising discoveries this year was that there are indeed certain fruity perfumes that will beguile me. The first one this year was Tigresse, which I am sure you are all tired of hearing me go on and on about by now. The second contender certainly has to be Pulp, a scent I felt a certain attraction towards from the moment I first smelled it. This is an intense, no holds barred, incredibly bright and colorful fruity scent that is bound to fill any old grey day with sunshine. It is as summery as they come and then some, actually managing to smell deliriously, ecstatically happy. The most attractive feature of Pulp –aside from its happy, sunny disposition, that is- is this lovely, jammy accord that makes it feel absolutely edible. Lovers of fig fragrances who have grown tired of the one-track-minded, single note scents populating the market like mushrooms in the last couple of years, will find a new friend in Pulp, which makes a striking, utterly green fig note its star attraction amidst all the psychedelic, exotically sweet extravaganza. The lovely interplay between fresh fruits, caramelized sugar and slightly dissonant minty undercurrents manages to keep me interested for hours, until finally the scent turns earthy and slightly woody. I am quite intrigued by the fact that this is marketed as a unisex fragrance – I can’t imagine a man wearing this to work for example. Then again, this is not a work type of scent anyway, so why not be daring? If you are after something youthful, luscious and fruity, this is most definitely worth a try!

· Chembur: Chembur is a northeastern neighborhood on the outskirts of Mumbai, India, where Gorham’s mother was born and raised. Throughout his childhood, Gorham paid several visits to Mumbai, often enjoying beautiful picnics with his family in Chembur. The memory of the temples and shrines, the incense in the summer heat and the colorful garlands of flowers are all encapsulated in this perfume, possibly the most beautiful scent this Stockholm-based niche line has to offer. The opening is marvelous, all zingy lemon that is at once fresh and marvelously oily, like rind shavings, balanced by a rising warmth and sweetness. The heart is pulsating with deep incense, dark and delightful, hugged by mellow resins. A sharp vetiver note I absolutely adore cuts through the softness like a dagger of sadness through the heart. The base notes manage to retain a burning incense quality, while at the same time interjecting some much needed solace with a deep, sweet, musky-myrrh accord. A truly beautiful fragrance that stays close to the skin, a slightly unsettling and very moving companion for the colder months of the year.

ByRedo fragrances can be purchased from Cow in Stockholm, Colette in Paris, Les Senteurs in London, Barney’s in New York and Skins in Amsterdam.

Images: www.byredo.com, Flickr, originally uploaded by Roswitha Schacht and Utpal.

Palisander by Ava Luxe : Perfume Review

Ina, over at Aromascope made a post some time ago which sparked a discussion on straightforward perfumes. As I stated at the time, I believe that straightforward, linear perfumes can sometimes be a blessing, because you do not have to think too much. Too, sometimes what you are looking for can only be satisfied by a simpler creation, without too much fuss around it. I know I personally have a number of such little loves at least. Although not all of Ava Serena Franco’s fragrances are linear (some are far more complex than I had imagined before trying them), a lot of them satisfy those cravings for a clean, straightforward blend. Her line is fun, the service is amazing and I often find myself visiting her website to order samples as a pick-me-up gift to myself that will invariably bring me a lot of pleasure when it arrives.

I woke up today planning to write a review of Incense Musk, in order to continue the theme of incense I started with Miyako, but when I visited the website I found that it has been discontinued. Not wanting to write another “you can’t have me” teaser, I first considered writing about Passage d’Enfer, but then I realized that in the process I had actually become more interested in writing about an Ava Luxe scent, than about an incense fragrance in general. After perusing my sample collection for a while I decided to settle on Palisander, a delightful autumnal scent, perfect for when the leaves turn copper and the wind starts baring wintry fangs.

Palisander, conversely one of the more complex Ava Luxe fragrances I have sampled, has a strange earthiness when it is first applied on the skin. An earthiness so strong in fact, that it manages to instantly evoke images of subterranean growth, roots of trees and fibers of plants growing deep in dark, rich soil. There are leaves there too, dropped on the forest floor. They have seen countless rains and are now laying there lifeless, wet, decomposing...Becoming one with the earth that bore them. As the oil warms on the skin, the earthy scent disappears, leaving almost no trace behind. It is replaced by a heavy, woody sweetness. When I originally sampled Palisander, six months or so ago, I found the first whiff of its sweetness frightening - I thought I might have to scrub it off immediately. I do sometimes experience an extreme sense of sweetness from some woody fragrances and essential oils and it is something I honestly can’t stomach. Thankfully, I decided to be brave and let it sit on my skin for a while and this was rewarded: I found that this time the sweetness is anything but nauseating. Yes, the initial entrance is rather grand and dramatic, but it quickly becomes obvious that it is not going to be overpowering: despite its headiness, this is a rather sheer sweetness, one that graciously agrees to dance instead of a solo, together with all the other elements of the blend, one after the other. It becomes a constant, which is at first partnered up with a strange, slightly medicinal freshness, a remnant of the erstwhile earthiness. Then later on, with sensuous amber which eradicates any sense of freshness there was still to be found and allows a beautiful, enveloping warmth to bloom on the skin...until finally, it becomes smoky; dark, intense and almost incense like. There is also something else there: after some hours of wear I find Palisander to take on a peculiar animalic quality; the smell of desire heating up a cold room in winter, like a glowing ember.

Images courtesy of: www.galeriabali.pl, www.csun.edu,

Miyako by Annayake: Perfume Review

Back in May, I decided to write a week long feature here on Fragrance Bouquet, reviewing the female fragrances of the Annayake line. Those of you that followed it, might remember that I was at the time unable to get my hands on either Miyako, or Matsuri. I hate to leave things incomplete, so I set out to try and find both, so that I would have a complete picture of the fragrance line. Matsuri, I must admit, was easy to come across after all. I just had not looked hard –or well enough. I decided to not write about it because I was bitterly disappointed by it. As I have mentioned before, I do not always manage to get along with patchouli, especially when it claims center stage, muting everything else for my senses. Matsuri is unfortunately one such perfume: all I could smell and all I could think of was “Patchouli” and a rather flat one at that. L’Inspiratrice, it ain’t.

Miyako, a limited edition perfume, was much harder to find. A couple of months later though, I am happy to say I finally own a bottle. From the wonderful fragrance itself, to the beautiful sliding-doors box that houses it, my latest purchase has already given me much joy already. The very first time I wore it, a friend commented, “Mmm, what is this? Is it something Asian?” The remark obviously made me chuckle, for indeed, even if it wasn’t exactly a description of “...the fragrant air of the court of the Golden Pavilion, mythical temple in the Land of the Rising Sun...” (quote, Miyako box), Miyako had nevertheless managed to be instantaneously recognizable as a fragrance inspired by the Far East.

The sweetness of Miyako is rather curious, reminding me of the subtly sweet and oh-so-comforting warm air one finds in a house, after a full day of baking spiced goods made of lovingly kneaded dough. Its opening briefly tickles my nose with an ephemeral pepperiness that quickly subsides, giving way to the pungency of a prominent cardamom rubbed on cinnamon bark. There is something about the early stages of Miyako that I find intensely familiar, yet putting my finger on the fleeting memory that it rouses proved quite difficult – perhaps because I expected all my associations with the fragrance to be of an Oriental nature. Finally, it came to me, a couple of days ago: it is the mingling of frankincense and myrrh, combined with the smell of polished, waxed wood one encounters when finding refuge in the cool, lonely interior of a Greek Orthodox church during summertime. The smell of pine I get at this stage, also conspires to bring this memory forward, since it is not unusual for a church to be surrounded by pine (or other coniferous trees), and the resinous, fresh smell wafts generously inside through the open windows. I was perplexed to smell pine in Miyako – not only is it not listed as a note, but it seemed to me incongruous with a fragrance meant to allude to Japanese temples and Kodo, the Japanese incense ceremony. But after researching Kodo a bit further, I found that pine incense is indeed commonly used for the ceremony, so my nose must not have been playing tricks on me after all. While on the subject of listed notes, I must admit that despite the fact that several floral notes are listed as part of the composition, they remain virtually undetected by my nose. Rose is a possible exception: it suddenly blooms when the scent warms well on the skin. Even so, I doubt I would have identified it had I not been looking for it. But I do not lament the lack of a prominent floral bouquet, quite the contrary. Instead, I much prefer what I do find in the blend: there is the refined, dry, coniferous smell of cedar, the patchouli, which in this instance manages to be sparkling, the voluptuous, powdery sandalwood. And all of this is gently enveloped in the golden embrace of musk and amber, whose warmth and sense of comfort I cannot possibly begin to describe. This positively glowing coziness, my perception of a certain milky accord (which I love) and the somewhat powdery drydown, make me identify Miyako as one of most tender, restorative and comforting fragrances I own. I know it can be quite annoying to read a review of something that is hard to find and sniff for yourself, and since this limited edition fragrance is a little difficult to find (unless you wish to order a full bottle off ebay, of course), I wish to share some with you. If you post a comment on this review, I will automatically enter you in a drawing for a sample of Miyako, unless you explicitly state that you do not want to be entered, but just wished to comment. I will announce the winner on Monday evening.

Images:
Print: www.eso-garden.com
Senso Temple: incense burner. [Photograph]. Retrieved July 18, 2007, from Encyclopædia Britannica Online: http://www.britannica.com/ebc/art-642
Kodo Set: www.japan-zone.com