Showing posts with label spicy floral. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spicy floral. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Aedes de Venustas Oeillet Bengale: fragrance review

If like me you have been searching for a Catherine Earnshaw kind of fragrance all your life, then the options haven't always been that populous. Sure, there are some wild perfumes out there but they either (deliciously) run butch or raunchy (Bandit or Tabu), extremely sophisticated (Tabac Blond, Poivre, Coup de Fouet) or possessing that kind of French veneer that makes the Versailles what they are and not a rough stone house on the moors (YSL Opium, Coco de Chanel). I'm extremely surprised and overjoyed to find out that Oeillet Bengale, the third fragrance by Aedes de Venustas (the famous niche perfume boutique in NYC) is a Catherine-Earnshaw-by-way-of-India and that's mighty fine by me; this feral thing is so beguiling, one can forgive it a wandering spirit, even beyond the grave.



Oeillet Bengale like its namesake (the Bengal tiger) conjures the vision of a wild, fiery, untamed thing, oozing feline sex appeal and the sort of charm which keeps you on your toes rather than winning you over with an easy smile and pleading puppy eyes. It also conjures the temples of India, garlanded by flowers and smoky with woody-smelling incense, a sort of Kipling novela written in the register of smells.

Oeillet Bengale by Aedes de Venustas boldly goes where modern niche carnation fragrances go, that is more Vitriol d'Oeillet (Lutens) than Bellodgia (Caron). The spicy component, fresh and dark, like an electric storm in a land of immense skylines that go on forever, lends it well into night wear, while the combination of resinous smells and floral notes gives it a Queen of Sheba via a modern sort of vibe. This is a wonderful fragrance for either men or women who exude sophistication (or aim at doing so!) because the smoky pepperiness—with its incense-y ambience—doesn't lend itself to cooing over the latest chick lit volume. If you are the type to go gaga over Hello Kitty items (and not just out of childhood nostalgia) Oeillet Bengale will leave you cold. If you're a fan of spacious, yet richly nuanced, woody fragrances with a prominent spicy component (sans the expected Indian curry food notes!) and the growl of smooth and carnal labdanum, then the feral Oeillet Bengale is your thing.

In fact, if I were to sum it up, I'd say that the chord of pepper-clove-labdanum-incense is the "soul" of Oeillet Bengale, a smoky carnation for fiery spirits.

Composed by Rodrigo Flores-Roux, Oeillet Bengale by Aedes de Venustas includes top notes of turmeric, cinnamon, black pepper, cardamom, cloves and saffron; middle notes of rose, white pepper, strawberry and floral notes; and base notes of vanilla, tolu balsam, benzoin and labdanum.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Spicy Floral fragrances reviews,
Carnation in perfumes: the clove-scented buds of La Belle Epoque

Friday, November 15, 2013

Parfums de Rosine Majalis: fragrance review & sample draw

Les Parfums de Rosine, Marie-Helene Rogeon's outfit borrowing only the name of the original Poiret line, do their utmost to stretch poor rose to the limit, like on a Procrustean bed, but I admit that I quite like Majalis, their newest launch, thanks to its tawny cinnamic and peppery blast which is sweet music to my ears. This style never fails to make me want to break out the flimsy scarves and the rusty sunsets lipstick and belly dance a bit in front of the mirror as if no one's watching and no one's ever the wiser; a gift to myself alone.

Photo of Leda Petit by Jocelen Janon (originally the photo was larger and copyrighted but where I found it it was cropped) 

As announced a little while ago, the newly launched Majalis is inspired by the unique Rosa majalis, native to the Asian mountains, to render a soft oriental with spicy complementary notes of pink pepper and nutmeg on a woody background. Bulgarian rose absolute contributes a bright and heady heart note.

It is essential to like cinnamon (see a bit of cinnamon's history on this article) and peppery stuff to appreciate Majalis, because the content in cinnamic elements is so high that I almost can hear IFRA's breath down its neck itching to wield the axe and go off with its head. Les Parfums de Rosine affectionally call the inspirational rose a "cinnamon rose" and it's not hard to see why. But although we have come to associate cinnamon with orange & cloves from the classic Christmas melange sold in specialized tea shops and the festive pot pouri mixes originating from the medieval pomander, the composition of Majalis insists on more peppery (rather than clove-y) elements which pique and give a short rather than prolonged nasal pinch. It's also rather different from Rose Kashemerie by the same brand which is more resinous and saffron infused, less powerfully spicy. [In fact Majalis nicely falls into the "mellis accord" more on which you can read on our Oriental Perfume Basics. ]

If I were to draw a perfume comparison, I'd mention Cinabre by Maria Candida Gentile, a composition built on some gorgeous naturals which is as honking loud and as gorgeous as Sophia Loren in Marriage Italian Style. Cinabre is rather more ambery and with a distinct ginger note, while Majalis is less so, but the style is not miles away, so if you like one, you'll like the other. Although Rousse by Serge Lutens is another fragrance that immediately leaps to mind when thinking about cinnamon scents (and to a lesser degree Auburn by Tauer Perfumes), I find that the treatment there is different from the orientalised Taif rose that dominates the heart of Majalis by Parfums de Rosine and its milky sandalwood drydown.

Majalis just launched and is available through Rosine retailers and online. The bottle is beautiful as you can see, in all its coppery and fuchsia glory.

Notes for Parfums de Rosine Majalis:
Top: Bergamot, Mandarin, Grapefruit, Nutmeg, Cinnamon bark
Heart: Cinnamon leaf, Taif rose, Tea rose, Rose absolute, Jasmine, Black pepper, Pink pepper, Coriander seed
Base: Vetiver, Sandalwood, Cedarwood, Amber, Musk

One carded sample of Majalis is available for one lucky reader. To enter the draw please let us know in the comments if you have a particular spicy cinnamon scent/food/association (pleasant or unpleasant!). Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight and winner will be announced sometime on Monday.

In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample by the company. 


Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Nina Ricci L'Air du Temps: Fragrance Review & History of a True Classic

Reflecting on a classic fragrance which has inspired me into delving deeper into perfume history and appreciation, I can’t disregard L’Air du Temps by Nina Ricci, one of the most recognizable perfumes in the world. Even Hannibal Lecter is quoted smelling it on Clarisse Starling in Silence of the Lambs: “You use Evian skin products and sometimes L’Air du Temps… but not today...”.
Despite any foreboding connotations, the perfume's introduction in 1948 under a name halfway between Marivaux and Cocteau (denoting ‘the spirit of the times’) hallmarked a longed-for return to optimism. Much like Miss Dior was ‘tired of letting off bombs and just wanted to let off fireworks’, L’Air du Temps presented the new found hope for peace after the ravages of WWII, as reflected by the original flacon design of a sun with a dove perched on the stopper by Christian BĂ©rard.

 Iconic Design and Symbolism


L'Air du Temps is a triumph of bottle art and symbolism: The intertwining doves affectionately termed ‘Les Colombes’, a romantic theme by Marc Lalique, originates from 1951 and came to denote the virginal quality of the visual aspects of its representation, perpetuated in its advertising ever since. Originally the 1948 design envisioned by Jean Rebull and materialized by crystallier Marc Lalique involved a rising sun surmounted by a single dove. The interwining doves however marked the "kiss and make up" peace mood after WWII.
The "colombes" kissing motif also reflected the ever feminine, always understated and ethereallly romantic Nina Ricci sartorial fashions; nothing vulgar! The perfume became signage for fashions: "The most romantic gift of fragrance a man can give a woman" came to be accompanied by elfish gowns that draped the female form in a slippery, ethereal, 19th-century-aesthete nostalgic way; lacy ivory and white denoting youthful and -a little faded- aristocracy rusticating in the sunny French countryside.The L'Air du temps advertising mostly matched.
In 1999 the L'Air du Temps flacon was named "perfume bottle of the century".

Scent Description
The formula of L'Air du Temps, composed by Francis Fabron, was simple : no more than 30 ingredients which co-exist in harmony, a chaste -but not quite- bouquet of flowers enrobed into the silken sheath of benzyl salicylate; a massive dose of an –at the time- innovative product aiding the blending and linear evaporation of the other molecules. According to perfumer Bernard Chant “‘[benzyl salicylate] produces a diffusing, blooming effect very pleasing to the public”. Coupled with spicy eugenol and isoeugenol, the effect becomes almost carnation-like with its clove tint : the very heart of L’Air du Temps ! The celestial opening of bergamot and rosewood is undermined by the sensuous note, half-lily, half-carnation, suave with the fuzziness of skin-like peach and a green hint of gardenia. Powdery orris, coupled with dusky woods –poised at the intersection of winter falling into spring- and a faint amber note finish off the fragrance. The effect is peachy-carnation-y and very characteristic: a sort of Doris Day, the way she was, rather staunchy actually, active and hard to eradicate, rather than how she appeared to be in those rom-coms of the 1950s, all mock innocence and eyelashes aflutter.


The success of the classic Nina Ricci fragrance seems to be the sassiness of its aerated, distinctive bouquet coupled with its refined classicism, sometimes maxed out to sentimentality : an aspect which prompted critic Luca Turin to joke it was created for romantics “who shed a tear listening to La Sonate au Clair de Lune*”. Maybe not quite that way, considering how the latter might have been an impromptu requiem on someone’s deathbed. At any rate, the trickle-down effect must speak of the need to do just that: the skeleton of the formula has been imitated in various soaps, deodorants and hairsprays for decades, while in itself L’Air du Temps has influenced many other fragrances from Fidji (Guy Laroche) and Madame Rochas to AnaĂŻs AnaĂŻs (Cacharel).

 Comparing Vintage vs. Modern L'Air du Temps Perfume

Nowadays the suaveness of the original formula has been somewhat compromised, due to necessary surgery dictated by allergens concerns… The peach base is mollified into synthetic submission, the carnation is less spicy and rich than before, the whole excellent exercise seems less itself as if it has been Botoxed into a perpetual complacent smile....yet L’Air du Temps is still instantly recognizable in its sillage, the trail left by the many that pass by wearing it : the mark of a true classic !
The bottle design can be a gauge of age: Vintage Eau de Toilette from the 1970s and 1980s circulates in the amphora-like bottle with the gold cap in splash, while spray bottles are long and encased in white bakelite. If the front of the bottle has the doves in relief and the plastic cap is rounded and in relief as well, your specimen comes from the 1990s.

The vintage parfum is in the characteristic Lalique design with the perched doves atop. Old models of diluted concentration can also be in ribbed sprayers with gold overimposed sprayer mechanisms in squarish design. Really old versions can be in a round flask bottle with a boule cap in splash form.
Modern  eau de toilette on the contrary is in the familiar fluted oval-shaped bottle, reprising the dove design on the top in transparent plastic, the cap going over the sprayer mechanism. 

(*) Piano sonata N°14 by L.van Beethoven

This review is based on a text I had previously composed for Osmoz.com

Monday, April 25, 2011

Demeter Fragrance Library Wisteria: fragrance review

Demeter Fragrance Library hides many little gems: from the convincing ivy green note of mysterious evil of Poison Ivy to the exact replication of the ionically charged and just outright lovely wet scent of a baby's humidifier caught in Rain, the line never fails to present one with small epiphanies and delighted coos of small discoveries where you least expect it (They have things like Laundromat, Belladonna, Sex on the Beach, referencing the cocktail....an endless pit of joyful playing around). So I wasn't really astounded to find their Wisteria cologne was actually good.


Wisteria by Demeter goes where upscale fine fragrance doesn't go, who knows for what inexplicable reason: It creates the beautiful, utterly gorgeous scent of the mauve hanging grappes of wisteria (glycine), perched like bunches of decadent grapes over terraces, latticework and verandahs in early spring. A fusion of spicy goodness reveals itself from the core; a middle road between peppery twinkle, clovey note, and carnations, with a side of a somewhat oily green nuance reminiscent of hyacinth and lilacs. All these facets are surprisingly caught in Demeter's Wisteria, a soliflore that is lush and rich like the natural flower.
The scent starts a little alcoholic at first but the progression into an intense spicy floral is more than enough to compensate. Sadly presented only in Eau de Cologne, but with rather good lasting power nonetheless. If you like spicy florals, carnation scents or just love the mauve blossoms themselves, there are good chances you might like Wisteria by Demeter.

At 20$ for 1oz it is an unmissable bargain. If you know of European based online outlets for this, do let me know in the comments.

photo via armchairfrance.com

This Month's Popular Posts on Perfume Shrine