Black Widow by Black Widow: Perfume Review

I love trying out new things. Now, Black Widow is not a brand new fragrance – it was released in 2004 after all, but I was not aware of its existence up until recently. When I saw it was being compared to Opium, one of my all time favorites, I knew I had to try it. The comparison itself is dangerous: these are big shoes to fill. Having tested Black Widow a number of times already, I have to say that those looking for a similar fragrance will be disappointed – the two are as far removed as they can be, except perhaps where the impressive sillage of both is concerned. But those looking for a modern oriental will find something exciting in Black Widow, a peculiar and provocatively flirtatious composition. Inherently naughty, but still comfortingly warm, it can definitely be characterized as a winter scent. Smelling it, I get the feeling Black Widow delights in comfortably hovering between being controversial and highly wearable.

The opening is high-strung, sharp and potent. It takes me a while to recover from its demanding nature, which even though befitting the intriguing name, is not really me. Gladly, this impression does not last very long; the spicy heart notes quickly rise to the top and I find myself drawn to their full character. A striking clove, beautifully blended with nutmeg is the most arresting feature of this piquant heart. If you like nutmeg, you are sure to appreciate it here: it is not just an accent, it is prominent and proud, dressing up the clove like a full dress. Undoubtedly though, the clove is the star of this fragrance. It is central to the composition and to my nose, it seems like everything circles around it admiringly, as though it were the sun in a system of planets. I am intrigued by the strange rendition of the note. It lacks the blooming floralcy, the characteristic notes of carnation most often associated with clove in perfumery. It is stark, dark and earthy instead – a new take on a common theme. The bitterness of the scent is tempered by the rising musk as the fragrance warms on the skin. A really deep musk, strong and persistent, that willfully enfolds the body. It not only serves as an enhancer to the spicy notes, but also adds an element of intrigue in its own right. This is certainly not an innocent, clean musk, nor is it purely animalic. It is darker than that, bewitching, making me wish I could experience it separately. It combines beautifully with resinous opoponax and sandalwood, whose added warmth pave the way for the full, rich amber accord that slowly makes its way to my consciousness. Sweet in character, the amber is enigmatic, mysterious, evoking images of a briefly seen kohl-rimmed eye behind a brilliant orange veil. I find myself pleasantly taken by surprise by the rhythmic interchange that follows and remains throughout the drydown: bitter and sweet, bitter and sweet, coming and going like a hypnotic wave of incense, lapping at the shores of my senses. This alternate cycle through darts of poison and kisses of deep honeyed sweetness keep me alert and excited, finally understanding how well the name, Black Widow, fits the scent itself. Have I found a new love in this perfume? No, even though I have been complimented on it both times I wore it in public. The truth of the matter though is, I find it's not really me. I would have preferred it to be slightly smoother and less sharp. Despite this, I appreciate it. Not only for its lovely interplay between bitter and sweet and its delightfully mysterious character, but also for its inovative presentation of clove, which happens to be one of my favorite notes. Yes, it is true, few things that contain copious amounts of clove fail to find a place in my heart.

Image: Author's Own.
More information on Black Widow can be found on the Black Widow website.

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

By Woman by Dolce & Gabbana : Perfume Review

I wore By Woman religiously in 1998; I remember its strong scent permeating everything at the time: my hair, my clothes, the hallway I’d rush through to get to the door, habitually late for any appointment. It has this way of leaving an air of longing behind it, hanging like a little cloud, long after the wearer has disappeared. I didn’t notice when it got discontinued, somehow I took it for granted, like something that would always be there for me when I needed it. Years later, the olfactory memory haunted me, at times as strong as though my perfumed wrist was stuck under my nose. Other times it would become elusive; leaving behind just this tortured feeling, the nagging certainty that I’d lost one of the sexiest scents I’d ever come across. This summer, while visiting Thessaloniki, I was lucky enough to find it again. Tucked away in what is now known as the old French quarter, three of the city’s oldest perfume shops still exist. The oldest one, the one I was craving to photograph for Fragrance Bouquet was closed, but the one next door was thankfully open. The shop sold mostly essences imported from France, but there was also a section, a few shelves really, of discontinued perfumes. I didn’t even need to scan them: By Woman caught my eye immediately with its extravagant leopard print box. Still wrapped and sealed, protected from the sun in its shady spot, it was as well as mine. My excitement was obvious and the owner of the shop engaged me in a conversation about his own lost loves of perfumery, confessing that he keeps the remnants of several in a drawer, taking them out for a sniff-induced trip back in time every now and again. I paid and left with a spring in my step, not only because I had found one of my own lost loves again, but because I had the chance to speak to someone who is obviously passionate about perfume too.

By Woman requires patience: It is one of those perfumes you have to wait for until they bloom to perfection on the skin. The opening is fresh, very citrusy and slightly green. It has a rather masculine quality to it, in an expensive cologne sort of way. Fruity tangerine and bitter bergamot dance around something unidentifiable – something almost plastic, which is not altogether unpleasant, but is very misleading indeed. It gives away nothing of the true character of the fragrance, the feverish sensuality that is to inevitably follow. It still seems tame, while it is anything but. And so it begins, testing the patience of the wearer with its indifferent masculine freshness. Persistently sniffing the skin is of no use at the moment: like playing with a cat, looking at it straight in the eye will not bring it closer. Ignore it though, avert your eyes, and soon the silky fur will undoubtedly surprise you by creeping up against you, in the same manner that By will surprise the senses by suddenly wafting towards the nose in a completely different manifestation than the one detected close to the skin. This gentle, wafting cloud is a prelude of how the scent will evolve on the skin. Soon perhaps, but not yet. For now the heady, exotic smell of the Lilly is blooming, trying to outdo the pungent, ever so slightly soapy ginger. The inebriating scent of pittosporum, the gorgeous flowering shrub that drives humans and bees alike crazy come spring, is embracing both. It caresses the skin with its white, delicate fingers, bestowing upon it the promise of nectar, the same promise that makes swarms of bees gather to gorge on its flowers. Then suddenly, yes, realization finally dawns: By Woman fully arrives, strong and thirsty, like luscious, engorged lips seeking the gloss of water. It positively surrounds the body, like an inescapable, delirious presence. Lashings of bittersweet coffee-syrup are poured all over the delicate white flowers, infused with vanilla and musk. The result is sweet, but not overly so: just perfect. The coffee combines perfectly with the smooth creaminess of sandalwood and the cedar eagerly brings the wearer's own skin-scent to the fore, enhancing it, underscoring all of its seductive qualities.

Deconstructing By seems almost like a mistake to me – the notes by themselves do not reveal the full extent of the end result. By is more than the sum of its parts: the beautiful blend is mysterious – I feel unable to decode how something can have so much sensuality just by looking at the notes. By is voluptuous, a pair of breasts drawn by an artist crazy with desire. It is sexuality worn as a weapon, which is of course, now that I think of it, the quintessential D&G woman. I don’t understand why this is no longer in production when thinking how much it fits their collections. It is the most gorgeous creature, leaving men half-conscious at the wake of her curves as she passes by, flaunting her cat o’ nine tails. By is empowering, one of the most empowering fragrances I have ever worn in fact. It acts like a confidence booster, like only a killer pair of heels possibly could. (for completely inimitable effects, try both at the same time) There are more powerhouse fragrances that can make a woman feel as strong as fortress, as powerful as a canon. Paloma Picasso would be a good example. But whereas Paloma warns intruders by penalty of castration, By raises an eyebrow and grins, hinting that she might be penetrable after all.

I want to continue the little tradition I started when reviewing Miyako, so from now on whenever I am reviewing a hard-to-find fragrance I will also be offering a sample of it. Please comment if you would like to be entered in the drawing.

PS: I hope the last image can be taken with the humor with which it is intended. I probably should not worry, but finding out that it was banned in the UK made a couple of alarm bells ring in my head!

Images: Author’s Own, www.doyletics.com and www.worldopiniontest.com

Tried and Tested : Midnight Poison by Dior

As was announced in the beginning of this month, Tried and Tested is one of the new monthly features of Fragrance Bouquet. I knew the first perfume I was going to test-drive was Midnight Poison by Dior, not only because it’s new, but also because it made such an impression on me: It was completely opposite of what I expected it to be. I was expecting it to be seductive, mysterious and most of all feminine. To my surprise it was intensely citrusy (definitely not the note I associate with midnight) and not at all feminine. In fact, I found it very masculine. Was it just me? I had to find out what others thought. Equipped with my camera and a notepad, I took to the streets to find out.

Note: In order to avoid bias, subjects were not told which fragrance they were testing.

Sara, 23 years old, student

Would you say this is a feminine or masculine perfume?
- I’d say feminine
Would you wear this fragrance yourself?
- No, it’s too strong - I don’t like it! Personally, I go for lighter scents.
How would you describe it?
- Hmm, as I said, it is very strong. It’s a powerful, intense scent. It seems like something that would be mostly worn by older women.


Hans, 53 years old, Gallery Owner & Freelancer

Would you say this is a feminine or masculine fragrance?
- Masculine, definitely masculine. Wait... there must be a catch, right? If you are asking this question, it must mean it’s actually feminine!
- I am afraid I cannot tell!
Alright, would you wear this perfume yourself?
- No, it is too heavy. This is a fragrance you can smell from a mile away! You know, I believe fragrance is something you should only smell when you get close to someone, when you’re allowed to come close to someone. When you are attracted to someone and you approach them...and then you smell this...Let me just say, if a woman was wearing this, it would definitely be a minus point.
- Ouch!
How would you describe it?
- It is heavy, overwhelming. It is sweet, but very citrusy too. I smell musk; perhaps there is some leather in there as well. In some ways it reminds me of the way the core of a tree trunk smells like...


Jeroen, 27 years old, Carpet Installer

Would you say this is a feminine or masculine fragrance?
- It is a masculine fragrance. Mmm...well...it could go both ways actually, like a unisex fragrance. But I am leaning towards masculine.
Would you wear this perfume yourself?
- Yeah, I really like it! I would buy it.
How would you describe it?
- It is soft... Soft and seductive.


A big thank you is due to Sara, Hans and Jeroen, who agreed to be interviewed and photographed by a total stranger: Thank you for giving me some of your precious time. Doing this was definitely daunting at times: Not everyone has the time or inclination to participate is such a project. At the same time it was great fun! I love hearing people’s opinions and whether these echoed my own, or took me by complete surprise by being completely different was really exciting. We laughed a lot together with the people that participated and they all had questions to ask me in turn after I had finished asking my own. One even surprised me by producing a camera and taking my own picture afterwards! They made my day brighter – seeing them engage their senses and allowing me a glimpse of how they perceive this scent was most rewarding. I am really looking forward to doing this again next month. I hope you are too!

Images: Author's own.

The Case of the Coveted Bottle

Givenchy is not the only one sponsoring a contest right now. Covet actually has its very own game, “The Case of the Coveted Bottle”, an interactive fictional story. In the game, Sarah Jessica Parker has been framed for the disappearance of a Covet bottle stolen from a Paris store and the players’ goal is to identify the true mastermind behind the theft. Melisande Champney, SJP’s Parisian publicist, will be giving clues and issuing challenges through her blog. The players, detectives in this interactive story, will need to follow up on those in order to win prizes.

Prize details:
The Grand Prize winner will receive $10.000 and a trip for two to NYC to attend Lucky Magazine’s Lucky Shops 2007, as well as a Covet gift bag, jewelry box and deluxe mini. One First Prize winner will win a flat panel TV valued at $1.200 and the Covet gift bag, jewelry box and deluxe mini. Finally, thirty second prize winners will be receiving the Covet gift bag, jewelry box and deluxe mini.

Additionally, the first person to solve one of ten weekly challenges will receive a green apple iPod Shuffle along with the Covet gift bag, jewelry box and mini. In fact, each time a player correctly solves a weekly challenge within seven days of its release, they will be eligible to win one of 35 Covet gift bags.

The Bonus Challenges also come with their own set of gifts: two lucky winners will receive an apple iPhone along with... you guessed it, a Covet gift bag, jewelry box and deluxe mini.

So, are you ready to hone your sleuthing skills and spend sometime solving the mystery? If so, go to Covet’s website and join the search. If you are a US resident you can automatically request a free sample of the fragrance from the main page as well.

Image courtesy of www.trendencias.com

Givenchy Very Irrésistible Slogan Contest

Get your creative juices flowing and come up with a catchy slogan for Givenchy’s Very Irrésistible, in order to win fabulous prizes. The first place prize is a trip for two to New York, where the lucky contestant will get the chance to meet Liv Tyler in person during her public appearance at NYC’s Sephora and receive a poster of the add with the winning slogan. The winner and their friend will also be treated to lunch at the offices of Seventeen magazine and will both receive a swag bag.

The prize for second place is a Very Irrésistible Givenchy gift basket valued at $250 and a poster of the ad with their own slogan. Furthermore, the 10 highest scoring entrants will be receiving a sample of Very Irrésistible and the 5 most viral a Seventeen goodie bag.

The only snag? Only US Residents are eligible for the top prize. A tad disappointing for non-US readers I’ll bet, but the second prize is also looking mighty attractive, which is a plus.

The contest will end on September 15, 2007 11:30 PM (PST). Submit your own entry and find out more at brickfish.

Image courtesy of www.livtylerwebsite.com

Esperys by E. Coudray : Perfume Review

What is the connection between E. Coudray and L.T. Piver? Why do they share the same address? Are they co-owned? Does Piver own Coudray? All questions I cannot answer unfortunately, but logic guides me to the conclusion that L.T. Piver probably does own Coudray, since every Coudray product is stamped with “L.T. Piver S.A.” while Piver products themselves bear no mention of Coudray on the packaging. So if Piver indeed owns Coudray, what is the connection between Coudray’s new Esperys and L.T. Piver’s original? (launched in 1903, re-introduced in 1911, now discontinued) Another question I cannot answer, but wish I could. I admire most everything I have smelled from Piver and the same goes for Coudray’s products, from the perfumes to the luxurious, deeply hydrating body creams. There is a difference though – Piver’s fragrances suit me and I find them very wearable, while so far I have not found a Coudray I felt excited enough about to buy. They just don’t go with my personality it seems, seeming either too flowery, too heavy or too sweet most of the time. Yet Esperys won a little place in my heart before I even had the chance to sniff it, and couldn’t wait to do so. Undoubtedly the name played a huge role in this, reminding me of the greek word Esperinos, the early evening hour. The time when the sun sets, the church bells ring and the birds go to roost. The time when I always had to stop playing and rush home as a child, forming a deep, sad association with the hour and the sadness I invariably always ended up feeling when I heard the call of birds overhead signaling their return as well as mine. To this day, the cries of a flock of birds going to roost at nighttime make my heart feel a little heavier, lamenting another day lost in time. A great name does not make a great perfume though. How many times do I need to experience this simple fact before it becomes internalized as a belief? Many, apparently.

Esperys opens with not so much a note, but a setting. The fist days of fall, after a summer drought that seemed eternal. Storm clouds gather ominously – there’s static in the air. The deserted road has accumulated inches of dirt that is about to be washed away. As the first large raindrops lazily start to fall, the air fills with the scent of dust rising from the road. Soon, if the rain was allowed to becomes more and more urgent, this parched smell would give way to freshness, but Esperys remains focused on that first moment instead, the moment of the first raindrops on a hot dirt road. That first moment, with the dust rising like a cloud and threatening to choke the hapless pedestrians running to find cover in order to avoid the approaching storm is forever captured in Esperys, unchanging, with no relief of cleansing in sight. I am not complaining – merely describing, for uniqueness excites me in perfumery and I have never smelled this before. I’ve smelled rain, I’ve smelled storms, I’ve smelled wet earth. I've smelled dustiness before too. But never so much intense, wet dust: this is new. I am not exaggerating either when I speak of that choking feeling of rainy dust cloud rising to the nostrils. It feels like an implosion of dryness. I am seduced by the novelty and my excitement mounts as I smell the fizzy bitterness of beer that follows. Green, wild vegetation is growing on the sides of my imaginary road. They too are dusty of course and I can almost smell their relief at the promise of rain. They are perfect and I can’t wait for them to grow in intensity and shine through. But they never do. Instead, very suddenly, I find myself woefully wondering if the ‘red berry’ note in the press release alludes to pomegranate, because that is indeed exactly what I am smelling and I do not like it. Not one bit. It is all there, the fruity seeds, the unsugared juice and most of all, the skin. Admittedly, the bitter dryness of the skin matches the dry composition, but I hate it regardless. Esperys didn’t need fruit. It didn’t need the caramel either, which peculiarly floats to the top far sooner than I expected it to. It makes the composition just a tad sweeter, unable to outmaneuver the glorious, dry bitterness. Its presence is nevertheless distracting and slightly nauseating. I keep hoping both it and the pomegranate will at some point relent, but (as I later find out), it takes them more than two hours to dissipate. These two conspire to ruin the fragrance for me. Even the beautiful, (yes, once again ‘dusty’) dry nutmeg can’t seem to cheer me up. The rest of the composition is so intriguing – the dustiness, the dryness, the sheer unique strangeness of it make me want to wear it, take it out for a spin, raise a few eyebrows, bother a few noses. I know though I never will. I can’t possibly stomach neither the pomegranate, nor the caramel. There is a delay, during which my shocked nose does not detect any changes, then suddenly, the rose becomes apparent. It is heavy, rather masculine. It smells exactly like Greek rose resin regularly used to burn on charcoal. If I was disappointed before, I am even more so now. From the first moment I experienced that exceptional dustiness I wanted it to be intermingled with greens and white flowers. The freesias that never came through. Maybe some honeysuckle and a little jasmine, if I had a say in it. I wanted it to be ethereal as well as strange. I willed Esperys to break my heart with its beauty just like Esperinos, the hour of sunset always has. And now, now it is cloying on top of everything else. Disappointed I wait for the drydown. It is not completely unremarkable, due to the dryness which still persists. Behind it lurks the rather unexciting smell of an expensive body cream. My disappointment is acute and apparent due to the fact that this was something I really wanted to like. I hate to admit it, but I can’t wait to wash it off. Four hours has been torture enough.

Images:
Esperys bottle from www.parfumeursdefrance.com
Painting of dusty road from the National Hungarian Gallery, www.mng.hu
Greek rose resin, from Natural Flow Direct ebay webshop: http://stores.ebay.co.uk/Natural-Flow-Direct

Perfume for the Occasion : Perfumes for the Gym

Perfume and the Gym go together like...well, nothing, to be honest. Like water and oil, they don’t mix. They shouldn’t mix. Yet, people keep doing it. In every class there’s bound to be at least one, wearing something infuriatingly heady, making the rest suffer, suddenly all too aware of the lack of fresh air around them. Angel. Poison. Kenzo’s Jungle. Some sort of strange head-shop oil the wearer has applied over every single inch of their body. They’ve all stood somewhere in my vicinity, diligently exercising, oblivious to the fact that I felt like I was about to dizzily fall from my step, risking at the very least some bruises and at the worse a broken ankle during BodyStep class. Dior’s Addict, Obsession for Men and L de Lempicka made me feel faint while mid-air in a jumping-jack countless times during BodyAttack. I might not have fallen or fainted yet, but I’ve gasped for air, gotten a headache, sworn and cursed silently in my mind more times than I’d like to recount in the last two years. Why do people do it? When I am in a good, positive mood, I try to be sympathetic, considering the fact that at least some of them must be coming to the gym straight from work and it would be unrealistic to expect them to not wear any fragrance at all for the whole day just because they are coming to exercise in the evening. Yet there are times when the sillage is so strong, I reason that it would be impossible to reek like that if the fragrance was last applied in the morning. I do maintain that no perfume should be worn at the gym. But since realistically that is unlikely to happen (not least because indeed there are many that come to sport straight after work), I went out and sought a number of rather more inoffensive options for the occasion.

Profumo di Benessere by Collistar
Profumo di Benessere is a fragrance by Collistar, belonging to their Benessere/Sporting line. Profumo di Benessere will not only perfume one’s skin but will also hydrate and soften it as well, while extracts of ginseng and gingko biloba will make it firmer too. If that wasn’t enough, Profumo di Benessere is also meant to be energy-boosting and stress-relieving at once. I am not sure whether to believe this or not, since I am always skeptical when it comes to aromatherapy claims, but I can certainly tell you that the scent is ultra-summery, packing a sunshine effect that made me identify it as an instant pick-me-up. It is very fresh, very herbal and while it starts out intense it becomes milder as time progresses. Strong enough to create a playfully cheerful, fragrant veil over your skin, but mild enough to not bother your fellow gym-goers. Perfect.

Cellular Energizing Body Spray by La Prairie
A product with very similar benefits to Collistar’s Profumo di Benessere, La Prairie’s Cellular Energizing Body Spray is an “aromatherapeutic body treatment”, a pampering moisturizer and fragrance rolled into one. When it comes to the aromatherapeutic claims, I would quicker put my money on Collistar’s sunny creation, which is truly a mood lifter, but when it comes to hydration and quality of scent, La Prairie wins hands down. The Cellular Energizing Body Spray feels amazing on the skin, soothing and cooling at once and the scent itself is beautiful. Citrusy and soapy at the same time, this is far fresher and subtler than Collistar’s offering. The difference in price too is of course undeniable, but if I had to choose one product for this feature as a favorite, this would be it. This is a body mist full of sophistication.

Rebalancing Fragrance by Clarins
Yes, another fragrance based on the principles of aromatherapy. This opening is fresh and “watery” and I use the term watery not alluding to aquatic fragrances, but more as a personal term I use to refer to this strange, moist and slightly mildewy scent I detect when smelling fragrances that contain bulb flower notes, especially freesias. This ‘watery’ note is quite fleeting however, and soon the skin is caressed by the gorgeous basil – iris blend. The base notes are cedar and benzoin, notes I would never consciously associate with exercising at the gym, but somehow the end result works. From all the fragrances in today’s feature I’d say this one has the most tenacity, making it perfect for those who want something a little stronger that carries throughout the day, from work to gym.

Eau d’Energie by Biotherm
For those seeking something sweeter and fruitier, Biotherm’s Eau d’Energie will be just the thing. It is a lightly sugared orange/mandarin blend with a hint of cream. I know it sounds scary, but it is so light I can’t imagine anyone complaining. The notes of sugared citrus fruits and apricot pulp might also help alleviate cravings for the wildly inappropriate for the occasion gourmand fragrances in those that favor them.

Those that did not make the cut: I sprayed countless body mists and light fragrances on my skin while I was researching this issue. A lot of times what I expected would be prime candidates due to their packaging, blurbs and marketing turned out to be surprising disappointments. Here, a glance at the worst of the crop: Shisheido Energizing Fragrance. Bad, don’t go there. This is NOT for the gym. Kanebo’s Relaxing Fragrant Mist. The fact that I hated this came as a huge surprise since I love Kanebo and use the Sensai Silk line religiously every night. (I cheat on Kanebo with La Prairie during the daytime – I know, I’m such a floozy) The Relaxing Fragrant Mist is hideous though, it smells metalic, almost rusted and I couldn’t wait to wash it off. Tsk tsk tsk, Kanebo. Lancome’s Aroma Tonic was way too sour for the gym, (I didn’t want to contemplate how it would react to sweat) while Aroma Source was simply too strong and musky. Lacoste’s Pour Femme was simply perfect, it would have been my more perfume-y choice of the lot, but I felt too strongly about it and decided to save it for a full review later on. Stay tuned.

Don't forget to visit For the Love of Perfume, to see a different take on this subject!

Pictures courtesy of: www.pumphousefitnessclub.com.au, www.cosmeticmall.com and www.sz-wholesale.com

Fragrance Bouquet News: New Features and Things to Come

Dear Readers,

I am very excited to announce that Fragrance Bouquet will be teaming up with For the Love of Perfume to bring you two new features! These will be hosted on both our blogs every first and every third Monday of the month. Starting today, every first Monday of the month, TMH256 and I will be writing “Perfume for the Occasion”, where we will discuss appropriate scents for a different occasion each time, beginning with today’s rather controversial subject, “Perfumes for the Gym”. The third Monday of each month will in turn be devoted to older, well-established classic fragrances. We have affectionately dubbed this feature “Forget me Not” and we were prompted to start it by your -that is, our readers’- desire to see more reviews of older fragrances amidst the reviews of niche and new releases. The first “Forget me Not” feature will be presented on Monday the 17th of September. We welcome requests and suggestions on both these features! As well as these regular features, TMH256 and I will be bringing you more impromptu joint projects, such as our Fall top 5, which will be presented on the 30th of September. Lastly, Fragrance Bouquet will be taking to the streets once per month to bring you the monthly “Tried and Tested” feature, where the opinion of random pedestrians will be solicited on a different fragrance each time. I hope you are as excited as I am about all these new features!

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

212 Sexy by Carolina Herrera : Perfume Review

Today I felt like challenging myself a little bit. You see, it’s so much more exciting to write about fragrances that I love or at least admire -whether these are niche or mainstream releases. And it’s so much easier to write about fragrances that move me, either in a positive or negative way, than about fragrances that leave me completely cold. But as I said, today was all about the challenge, so instead of carefully picking out my subject for the day as I usually do, I decided to surprise myself instead. I dipped my hand in a bag of haphazardly stashed samples and came up with Carolina Herrera’s 212 Sexy. Ignoring the little voice inside my head moaning with dread –for there is no Herrera fragrance I’ve come to appreciate- I set about testing it and keeping notes.

Imagine my surprise, when despite all my prejudice and preconceived notions, I found myself quietly impressed with the opening of this 2004 flanker. The opening was full of sophisticated, lovely bitterness and the bite of pepper stung my nose pleasantly. I decided to let my guard down as my interest was getting piqued and found myself, if not seduced, then certainly interested by the freshness of a not-quite-ripe tangerine rind. Just as I was musing about how the bitter freshness and the pepper smelled like a recipe for success to me, I was rudely awakened to the fact that the fragrance had drastically changed in the blink of an eyelid. Underneath the freshness, a deep, masculine scent was rising to the top, not quite unpleasant, but not what I expected either. There was an undeniable roughness and fullness there that did not befit the elegantly crisp opening. Slightly panicky, I checked the sample for fear I’d made a mistake and was sampling 212 Sexy Men instead, but no, no mistake there. I settled down, following the progress with slight bewilderment. The masculine edge got fainter and fainter as time went by, but unfortunately, so did the bitterness. Twenty minutes later, it had completely given way to a peculiar caramelly sweetness, which in turn quickly evolved to a very realistic rendition of cotton candy.
So realistic in fact, I almost felt like I was standing in front of a street vendor, the scent of burnt sugar surrounding me. As if that was not horrifying enough, there was a certain undertone of slightly sick vanilla there, tinged with something not quite right, something cheap, smelling faintly of wet cardboard. A boozy gardenia that might have otherwise been quite pleasant (at least in the face of adversity posed by the evil cotton candy) made an appearance at some point there, or at least gave it its best shot, weighed down as it was by the monstrous goop of sweetness. Finally, thankfully, I reached the end of this Kafkasian metamorphosis: Sour vanilla, a dose of wood, musk and last but not least, wet cardboard. Perhaps even worse than the wet cardboard note though, is the unmistakable, unforgivable flatness of the end result. It’s just too bad for the interesting opening. It’s worth a spritz, just for the sake of experiencing that beautiful bitterness. Spray and sniff quickly, blink and you missed it. Be prepared to scrub it off too, afterwards. You deserve to smell better than this.

Images courtesy of: http://wallpaper.narak.com and http://commons.wikimedia.org

Skin² by Ava Luxe : Perfume Review

Give me something that blurs the lines between the point where my own skin’s scent ends and the point where the fragrance itself begins and chances are I’ll love it. I passionately seek these fragrances out and it always gives me such a feeling of satisfaction when I find a new one to add to my collection. It comes as no surprise then, that when I found Ava Luxe a year or so earlier, the first fragrance I wished to sample was Skin². The blurb, which read “A wonderful classic skin musk scent. This is a clean and slightly powdery musk that blends with your natural skin scent and creates your own unique fragrance.” was simply irresistible. My expectations were so high, I was almost disappointed when my sample arrived. I was expecting the Holy Grail of skin-emulating scents; the skin scent that would end the search for any other once and for all. Of course, as any perfumista will confess, this is a futile aspiration: There is always something else to sniff. Hope springs eternal in the true perfume addict – there is always something else to sniff and who knows, it might be extraordinary, more extraordinary than last time. It is the search for the ultimate high, if not its darker twin, the search for the original high... But, as I was saying, the sample arrived and before I had the chance to be fully disappointed by the fact that it was not perhaps the One, I fell deeply in love. I placed an order for a full bottle the next day, without ever feeling the need for a second thought, for Skin² is, as it turned out, perfect.

There are so many things I find hard to pinpoint about this scent. One of them is why it feels so familiar, so comfortable. The first time I smelled it, I had this feeling of instant recognition, like meeting someone for the first time and having the feeling you’d met them before. The mind becomes confused, offering ridiculous explanations ranging from childhood occurrences to the even more unlikely memories belonging to the world of dreams. A year later, that peculiar feeling of deja vous is still there, but I can let go. Skin² and I have made our own memories together and they’ve slowly replaced the aimless search for something that is not really there. They are all beautiful memories – perhaps because it feels like nothing can go wrong when I wear this scent. Even though it is not what you’d call a “sunshine” scent, it is in my eyes wellbeing encapsulated. Its sense of comfort and balance is unparalleled, almost as though it works on a hormonal level. Or perhaps as though it contains positive energy. Describing how it smells without using the word musk over and over again is hard. I feel obliged to make it clear though –because the comparison has cropped up here and there in the past- that it does not smell anything like White Musk from The Body Shop nor like Alyssa Ashley’s Musk. Not by a longshot. I personally would say that it is in a way, clean and beautiful skin, but better. To fully appreciate it, one has to wait a while for it to warm up on the skin. It starts with a mind of its own, muskier, stronger than it will soon turn out to be. Then, sooner than you’d expect perhaps, it melds with the skin, becoming strictly personal, warmer, sensual. It is indeed slightly powdery, especially in the beginning, but at the same time very, very sexy. And then, there is this fascinating feeling of sweetness that never becomes full, just remains sheer, like an overall impression. Another thing that makes me fall in love with Skin² is the soft trace of what I interpret as the smell of a smooth spirit, like a very good, well-aged brandy. Which brings me to yet another thing I find hard to pinpoint about it... The peculiar sense of something vaguely woody in there, so minute that it can only be likened to a footprint in the sand, in the process of being erased by a gentle wave. I entertain the thought of the brandy again, aging for years in dark, wooden casks. These merest hints of something I cannot quite touch or explain still drive me crazy, like familiar words that have been jumbled beyond recognition. They are in all likelihood simpler than I make them out to be, I think to myself. But whatever they might be, I love them. As to whether this is my current holder of the Holy Grail of skin-emulating scents? No... But that’s a story for another day, isn’t it?

Image courtesy of http://specialoffers.starwoodhotels.com

Sacrebleu by Parfums de Nicolai : Perfume Review

I wouldn’t buy a full bottle of Sacrebleu. I don’t really like it, you see. I wouldn’t want to wear it outside. I wouldn’t want to actually smell of it. But all the same, I can’t help admiring it, or craving to sniff it on my skin from time to time. It is every couple of months or so, when I will have forgotten exactly what it smells like, that my mind will prompt me to spray a little bit on my wrist to smell it again. Undoubtedly, something draws me to it. Unfailingly, this little something will tell me it smells like candied violet petals and it will insist that it wants to smell it again. Unfailingly that little something will be disappointed again, because Sacrebleu does not in fact smell like violet petals, candied or not. But for a while it will be satiated anyhow, for if Sacrebleu can be visualized as a color, it is indeed a deep dark violet – a viscous abyss I am more than content to swim in, if only for a while.

This is a fragrance full of richness and warmth. It makes me in a way think of an 80’s classic, and a reference to Cacharel’s Loulou will not be lost on those that know and love it. It is sweet and dense: Apply too much and you’ll be left tangled in a sticky mess, hot under the cover of a heavy velvet cape. Apply with caution though, and you’ll be able to appreciate all the little gems and flecks of gold that have been carefully worked in the very same deep purple velvet, now taking the form of gorgeous bustier. The mandarin in the opening is only a hint: You can smell it here and there, as though someone nearby is peeling the fruit with gusto and droplets of the potent oil are flying, threatening to get in your eye. The carnation and tuberose blend seamlessly as they simmer together in the folds of a fruity pulp. A sprinkling of cinnamon and cloves and the result is almost –almost- edible. What makes the sweetness bearable –and indeed beautiful- is a sword of sappy greens lancing through the mixture. And maybe, just maybe, it’s not just my imagination and the hilt is really made of green violet leaves.

Despite the impenetrable feel of a heavy veil this perfume creates, it somehow manages to also evoke the feel of washed, clean hair on a bright, sunny autumn day. The shiny, never dyed hair of a childlike woman: An overgrown little girl, really, getting her way through life, unaware of struggle. She is only barely aware of her real age, as witnessed by the short but at the same time sensible skirt worn over her Prada ballerinas. That’s Sacrebleu, inherently optimistic, if only because it doesn’t know any better.

Images Courtesy of: www.quatropb.sk, abm-enterprises.net (Fractal Art by Vicky Brago-Mitchell) and www.nitrolicious.com

Edwardian Bouquet by Floris : Perfume Review

I cannot resist spending a lot of time shopping when visiting Thessaloniki. Well alright, I'll admit, I cannot resist shopping - period, but the habit tends to become exacerbated while traveling. You see, much as I adore our beloved capital, Amsterdam, it can at times be characterized as fashion starved. Thessaloniki thus, can be awarded the distinction of being fashion forward, if only by comparison. (har-har...) No, truly, you’d feel the same way too, if you lived in a country where once you walked into one of the few places carrying designer goods you’d be lucky to find a Marc Jacobs shoe from a two-year-old collection. NOT on the sales rack mind, full price. That’s right, the trash on the sales rack is pure comedy gold. But still not as funny as the old stuff being passed off as new at full price in the rest of the shop. Aherm... As I was saying, Thessaloniki is a good place to shop, let’s leave it at that for now. While browsing a magazine on one of the first days of my vacation I happened upon pictures of a Julien Macdonald fashion show that took place in one of the city’s hotels recently. In one of them, Julien was smiling bright together with Anna Kapsali, the wonderfully eccentric, hat-addicted and very, very talented stylist who as it turns out, also owns Style Fax, a relatively new shop in town. Fast-forward to the next day and I am the proud owner of a whimsical new skirt, which Anna, with her sensual, raspy voice, is giving me tips on what to wear it with. But that’s not all. It was not just clothes, beautiful bags and strange hats that I found at Style Fax. A collection of Floris perfumes was on display in an alcove near the register. I requested a sample of the one that impressed me most and left with it along with my new skirt. I am now of course mentally kicking myself for not buying a full bottle, but I am already planning a weekend getaway sometime in October, so I’ll just have to look forward to it.

The sample was, of course, Edwardian Bouquet. Originally launched in 1901 and re-orchestrated in 1984, this is a creation by Floris, a house that boasts being the oldest family owned perfumer. Feeling slightly guilty and at the same time perturbed, for what I am about to utter is indeed truthful but at the same time misleading, I have to start by saying that this is something of a little treasure you’d expect to find in the back of your grandmother’s closet. It smells like the conceptualized version of a grandmother’s vintage perfume – no, make that the conceptualized version of countless grandmothers’ vintage perfumes. It is in essence what the collective belief of a group of people’s notion of an old fragrance would smell like, if said belief could be distilled over and over again into the perfect sample. Granted, this is not your average, garden-variety grandma. She is glamorous. She used to take her fur stole with a side order of tasteful costume jewelry. She wore gloves.

Being powdery is something that has come to be expected of perfumes characterized as vintage or old smelling. Edwardian Bouquet is NOT powdery though, just old fashioned. And even that doesn’t manage to stop a dab of it from being beguilingly sexy on the right bare shoulders... It certainly makes an impact. It is however, ever so slightly soapy, making me think of that old practice of hiding a good, expensive bar of soap in a chest of drawers in order to keep the linen smelling fresh. It is a bitter-floral bouquet; satisfying, elegant. The bergamot springs instant and immediate recognition, but I find my nose slightly more troubled when looking for the jasmine and hyacinth. They lack the transparency, the reality if you will, they would have in a modern melange. They are intense, but highly perfumey... Not plastic, believe me, that is not what I mean at all, but conceptualized in perfume language in a way that makes them quite far removed from their natural setting. As it settles and warms on the skin, some of its original bitterness is lost. The galbanum, moss and amber combination give it a seductive depth that begs the nose to be buried deeper into the skin so as it might better discover the slight nuances of the hidden layers. When all is said and done, I have to say that the best part for me is that behind the subtly floral yet strong bouquet, there is the undoubted marking of something not quite right... Something almost dirty, something almost unwashed. And yes, this is what draws me to it, perversely.

Images courtesy of: www.sftravel.com, www.amazon.com and www.vintagetextile.com

The Fragrance Bouquet is Back from Summer Vacation!

Three whole weeks of sun and sea, three weeks of marvelous sights and smells ... Do I feel rested? No, not quite. It’s not in my character to lounge much, preferring instead to wake up as early as possible in order to turn every single day into a whirlwind of activity, ensuring that not a moment of precious vacation time goes wasted. Trying to fit as much in a day as humanly possible can be quite exhausting, as a matter of fact. But what sweet exhaustion this is and how awkward it seems to be back, enrolled once more in the hustle of real life responsibilities. It took a three-hour flight to go from searing heat to chilling cold and I am still pretending I never returned, stubbornly wearing summer clothes and refusing to turn the heating on. Phonecalls, emails, appointments, books, friends and colleagues are all jostling for my attention but I can still take refuge for a day behind the excuse of having to unpack the inordinate amount of things I have brought back with me. But what I’ll do instead right now, is write for Fragrance Bouquet – because I’ve sorely missed it, as I have missed you all. There are lots of surprises waiting around the corner. Lots of trips we are going to take together, into the wonderful world of fragrance. Trips exciting enough to console me, now that summer is quickly coming to an end. Are you ready? Let’s go!