June 22, 2010

Histoires de Parfums

An important part of the experience of perfume is the conceptual pedestal it sits on. This can turn out to be simply marketing & PR, or if handled well, a strong alliance forged to that which presses your personal pleasure triggers. An environmental cloud of associations, the allusions to glamour, luxury and bodily happiness, and even the preciousness of the sheer expense of something so ephemeral creates much of the alluring aura around perfume. It's not just about a taste test with a blindfold on, it's about being drawn into what it's all about, getting involved in the presentation and the story. As with conceptual art, it's sometimes more about the back-story than the actual thing itself.

Being an avid reader, and a repeat reader of those stories I identify with, certain books become like personal memories. Associations of history, especially literary history, are potent for me. I would venture to say in the culture of France, allusions to literature are an even more powerful trigger. The French are famous for worshiping their writers as cultural icons that sanctify every archetype of human personality (like actresses or other performing arts celebrities in the U.S.).

I know from myself, and observation of others that psychological associations have a powerful effect, and even the mention of certain famous people or events can affect the interpretation of an actual experience, especially with scents. I do indeed enjoy the concept of Histoires de Parfums, and I know this colors my experience of the fragrances. This may be even more the case than usual because lately I have been on a mental vacation, in full immersion in French literature of at least 100 years old (as read aloud on Librivox: Gautier, Dumas fils, & Balzac, for example).

Personally I think that Paris of the nineteenth century is like a sister to NYC in the present. I see a similarity to our own cultural moment that is psychologically and spiritually bankrupt but sensually deep, narcissistic, corrupt, creative and avaricious, in a perpetual state of longing, tragic, hopeful, with a background continual war being waged between the sexes. As Balzac says, our people are motivated by two things only: "pleasure and gold".

There is an alternate universe of living in or through the past, as depicted in the legends and allusions to rich and varied lives in the themes of these perfumes. They are titled by years such as 1826 and 1740 and 1873 and connected to great literary figures such as Colette, de Sade, Baudelaire, Sand, Verne and glamorous adventurers like Mata Hari and the Empress Eugenie and idealistic youth culture of 1969. There is also a series of iconic perfume types, such as dark patchouli and white violet, the peony bud and a series of three on tuberose, and a complex Amber with a 114 element composition.

For me the theme of this line is contrast -- of white floral, citrus and amber, and though there are some that are not amber at all, I think the exception proves the rule. Amber as a faint burnt honey that is in the background, and white floral and citrus as a high-keyed notes that thread sweetness through most of them too. Their contrast makes a push pull that is energetically modern even while the allusions are to the aesthetic of the past.

I was offered a set of samples of the 16 perfumes, out of the blue. It is luxurious to have this selection of them all at once, and to try them all at once, and at first I tried them rapidly one after the other. Later, I chose one or two at a time, giving the ones I liked a chance to bloom out around me for a fuller experience. I would recommend this way of trying them, if possible, as a way to get the overview of the line as an experience in and of itself.

For me, the tone of the collection as a whole is cool, even modern for all the references to writers of the past, quite wearable, transparent, and ultimately fresh for all the amber which reveals itself like something seen through an open window. Detachment rather than identification, a little distancing to keep the intellectual flavor, more of a sparkle than a lushness or sinking into the sensations of fragrance. The sample collection gives an opportunity to leisurely try them as a line, or as layering elements, and if you are eventually attracted to one or two more than the others, this will reveal itself and you can decide if a full bottle calls to you. For me these are 16 elements of a whole work, rather than one or another being individually a foreground star.

In rough order of my personal preference, these are the ones that appealed to me right away:
1876 (Mata Hari) a spicy citrus rose, with bergamot, orange, litchi, iris, cumin, vanilla, vetiver, santal, gaiac. Tubereuse 1, Virginale (Baudelaire) which is a pale green and the most floral of the three Tubereuse suite. These three based on a sometimes cloying note are at a well calibrated level of intensity for this humid summer weather, and could be layered or varied over the course of a day.
1873, Colette - a strong citrus with white floral, notes of lily of the valley, orange flower, violet and lavender. 1969, a light sweet and sunny citrus rose, with patchouli and white musk (I understand our modern celebrity icon Angie Jolie wears it) I tried it with other green tea and patchouli scents as a layering element yesterday, and it put me in a good mood, which is all I can ask of perfume.

I like the masculine scents too, 1740 (de Sade), bergamot, patchouli, coriander, labdanum and immortelle and 1828 (Jules Verne), citrus, eucalyptus, pepper, vetiver, incense. These are more interesting than what "regular guys" might venture to try on their own, but I suspect if they did they would prefer them over the typical selections they are offered. I liked the perfumer Gerald Ghislain's concept of masculinity of three parts: the romantic, the erotic, and the adventurous.

For a complete list of notes and perfumes, please see the Histoire de Parfums site and the blog site for more information and background.

Above photo, Colette looking as if she is a perfume on a pedestal, herself.

June 17, 2010

The Scented Djinn - O True Apothocary!

This past week it’s almost impossible to discern personal perfume while walking beneath the linden trees as they are pouring out their fragrance these humid days and nights. Some of the lindens in the park nearby are three stories tall and are flooding the air to such saturation, it reaches into my fourth floor rooms across a wide field and the street. Other lindens punctuate the side streets keeping up the heavy mist of fragrance from corner to corner.

Certain perfumes do enhance an atmosphere like this. Natural perfumes generally do, especially if they have notes that complement what is going on in the environment. Then a person wearing them becomes like the detail in a traditional landscape painting, put there for scale or to be the bright spot and focal point. I used to prefer landscapes without that obligatory human or animal figure in the foreground, but it’s different when it’s you. When it’s real and it’s trees in bloom, it’s like participating in something celestial, to be moving through vast amounts of scented air, while your own physical matter, your weight, holds you down from being swept along in a torrent of fragrance. This is a great time of year for natural perfumers, because the humidity brings out all the delicate notes to their fullest expression.

I obtained a set of samples from Scented Djinn on Etsy, on the recommendation of Scent Hive. It was good timing, with the lindens going full blast, for Serj Eau de Parfum with its notes of fir balsam, hyacinth, orange juice and ruh khus (a special form of fresh vetiver). The ultra soft subtle evergreen note is like stepping on fallen dry fir needles, releasing scent moved up by the orange, with the blend of tinctured hyacinth and ruh khus, is a combination of high and dry low notes both soothing and striking. I love evergreen notes, but they are less often used in perfume than I wish they were.

Another highlight is Oshiba Eau de Pafum, with key notes of osmanthus, hiba wood (a Japanese wood, similar to cedar) and labdanum. The opening sweetness is a hint of delicate osmanththus inlaid into aromatic wood. The floral burns off quickly and the labdanum balsamic blends with the hiba, which over time then settles down into something close to a powdery cedar.

The names of the scents, Jameel, Sahar, Khodum (beauty in the hand of wickedness, as the perfumer says) give you the flavor of the references to a classically Persian style of perfume of this suite of perfumes. There are others on the blog site, which appear to come and go with the seasons, of a more Spring-like floral theme. I am interested in the Viridian Grotto Creme Parfum, with its lavender and coriander and frankincense notes, I believe it would be beneficial for a tired head at the end or beginning of the day.

The Scented Djinn, aka Justine Crane, conducts year long studies in perfumery (Natural Perfume Academy) online and in person. She's been making perfumes for a long time, and there's a lot to explore there.

Sample packets at O True Apothecary and at the Etsy shop, which carries the full line of soaps and body products, hand made, very well priced and made entirely by hand with beautifully wholesome ingredients.

Musical accompaniment: More of This (Neighbors remix) by Vetiver, who are being nice enough to allow for free download of the song for a limited time.

June 6, 2010

Creams and cats, Velvet and Sweet Pea

It's been both hot and cool lately, but full summer in the city is right around the corner. With stifling heat and humidity, I wish there were access to fountains, pools, springs and sprays of water everywhere, and a lot more shade, but we have to deal with a lot of pavement absorbing the heat and times of the day when there’s no avoiding the full blast of the sun. Cleanliness and simplicity seem like the only way to go. But that’s not what we’ve got, especially while traveling to and from midtown Manhattan, so I settle for showering twice a day. All that soapy hot water along with some harsh sun exposure from just walking around, can get to be terribly drying.

When this is the state of affairs, scented moisturizers become my fragrance medium of choice, especially when it gets to be ninety degrees plus a number of days in a row. I was lucky to run across a delightful post by Beth Schreibman Gehring, on Laurie Stern's Velvet and Sweet Pea. It's a late-Victorian California style of organic products and perfumes by an artist and gardener, who came to perfume by way of floral design. There’s a pampering-of-the bride-getting-ready-for-the-big-day feel to the aesthetic, crossed with a hand-made Californian love of bodily and natural pleasures and ingredients, crossed again with a layer of 1890s Gold Rush influence. I think of ladies in the old Westerns in their hand-made white lacy under-things, getting out of their corsets and sinking into the white claw-footed bathtub. Only Laurie Stern's is out in the open, in a back yard garden in San Francisco with a thick layer of rose petals on the water, protecting modesty.

I was so taken with this idyllic image of bathing in the garden, and the natural and traditional perfume elements, I immediately ordered a sample pack of perfumes and a whipped frosting face and body cream, in Kashmir Rose. I happened to need a face cream and I had a good feeling from the description of the texture and the delicious ingredients, and my expectations were more than fulfilled. It contains Kashmir Rose otto and Moroccan Rose absolute, and an ambrosial combination of organic shea butter, virgin oil de coco crème, avocado, organic sesame, safflower, marula, vanilla infused organic jojoba, rosehip seed oil and vitamin E. I have been using it so often that I got through the smaller size jar quickly, so I am lucky that extra samples were thrown in for me. The Tuberose and Gardenia Whipped Frosting is remarkable in that the gardenia and tuberose fragrance was made through the enfleurage process, a very rare thing these days. It is subtle and entirely uncloying, which is a feat, considering the notes involved. The shea butter and oils are whipped with so much air that the cream makes a tiny crackling sound when you scoop it out, which I enjoy, and also when it melts from the warmth of the skin’s heat, going from the texture of butter cream frosting to a light fragrant oil. Best used at night because it is so rich, I have nevertheless used it in the morning too, letting it sit awhile over breakfast, and then wiping any remaining shine down with a towel before applying makeup. It's very smoothing around the eyes and a good preparation for eye makeup.

My favorites of the fragrances so far are Narcissus Poeticus, a fresh cool floral green sweetness, notes of violets, jonquille, limes and mandarin, osmanthus and iris, hand-made in limited edition; Honey, an accurate warm aromatic, a relaxing soft fragrance, not as sweet as you would expect, more like honey after it has been stirred into the hot water or tea, and Jewelry of Heaven, a calm, classic fond of jasmine grandiflorum and Himalayan and Turkish roses, in a late 19th century style. They also come in solid form.

Velvet and Sweet Pea is named for the two cats that are the patron saints of the concern, and certainly vigilant guardians of good cream sources. Laurie Stern is a great animal lover, and contributes to the rescue of the cats who haunt the Coliseum in Rome. She has received the Leaping Bunny certification, signifying that the products and the ingredients are cruelty free (of course!)

Above, the rose petaled bath of my dreams in Laurie Stern's garden, and a portrait of Lillie Langtry, the great professional beauty of the Edwardian era, and a beloved icon of female beauty in the American West of that era.