Les Grandes Dames

One of the things I was most excited about when I planned this trip to Paris was a visit to Guerlain's boutique on the Champs Elysees.  I had seen the photos and had no difficulty to imagine spending a lot of time there, smelling and trying all of their wonderful creations. I had also set aside a bit of my spending money in order to purchase whatever scent I would fall in love with. So on this wonderful sunny autumn day I stepped out of the Metro and walked along the Champs Elysees, which has lost about 110% of the charm it most probably had before the arrival of the Multinationals. And there it was, the lovely, inspiring, closed due to refurbishment until the end of November Guerlain store:

Yeah, that was a bit shit. 

While I perfectly understand that a grand dame has some work done from time to time I was 

really unhappy with her timing. To overcome that shock I went into the gigantic Sephora next door and sniffed all the Guerlains they had (quite a few, actually). So instead of being surrounded by style and timeless elegance I found myself perched between gift boxes, sweaty teenagers from all over the world and remarkably calm and friendly sales assistants. 

When I came out I was a bit at a loss, but decided to make the best of the lovely day and just walk. A lot. In fact I walked all the way down to Rue Faubourg St. Honore. My new goal was the Hermes store on Rue FStH. I wanted to try Jean Claude Ellena's creations for Hermes and hoped to profit from the brand's well known generosity when it comes to samples. The shop was  busy, but no one was manning the perfume section so I helped myself with the testers. I tried  Iris Ukiyoe, Paprika Brasil, Vetiver Tonka, Rose Ikebana, Poivre Samarcande and Osmanthe Yunnan. The Iris didn't work on me at all and neither did the rose and the Osmanthe. But the more 'manly' ones I really liked a lot, namely the Vetiver and the Poivre. When the SA arrived to offer some help I managed to ask for a sample in proper French and with my biggest smile. It worked. Most chuffed I decided to walk along further and make it the afternoon of the big names. Chanel was next, and although I have already tried all the Exclusives I tried my favourites again : La Pausa (Irises are my new obsession) and the wonderful 31 Rue Cambon which would be my all time favourite perfume ever if it stayed longer than half an hour.  

Then there was the Dior, and although I love some of the men's scents I don't have Dior on my radar much. I had a go at heir newest Exclusive offering , Gris Montaigne. I It's an elegant, understated scent. But it's not a 250 Euro per bottle kind of scent, sorry. 

I know it is impossible to put a realistic price tag on perfumes or any luxury item, because the highest price you can get away with is seems like the right one, but sometimes I just find it all a bit silly.

And last, but not least there is the Jean Patou boutique. They don't have many scents on display, and have to take on the ones which also have been bought by the Watford based owners. There is a new Joy. Joy Forever, and its a  chypre and I think it was nice, but my nose and me were tired by that time. The lovely lady in the shop complemented me on my French which is a total winner for me and my subjonctif meddled up mind, and  I think she was honestly sorry that she had run out of samples for the Forever. Thus ended my big names afternoon. After a disappointing  start it had actually turned into a lovely experience and a good French lesson. 

A most pleasant Saturday afternoon

The times when going shopping in Paris was an affordable past time for Brits are long long gone. These days it's not just the exchange rate that's less than brilliant, Paris has just completely and formidably overtaken London in terms of prices. A simple croque monsieur can now send you back 15 Euros, and you still get a funny look when you dare to ask to have ketchup with it. 

My 2 week trip to Paris will therefore cost an arm and a leg and then some, but c'est la vie. Window licking is not a bad past time either and Paris is undoubtedly great for that, because nobody does luxury quite so sophisticated than the French.

 

In order to get to the perfume places I had on my list I passed so many lovely shoes, bags, paintings, scarves, coats and dresses that I have dressed myself   imaginary five times over. The good thing about being a perfumista rather than a fashionista is that perfume does actually cost roughly the same everywhere and is, at least compared to the latest Maison Martin Margiela coat or Pierre Hardy stiletto, an affordable passion. 

While I'm typing this wafts of perfume are gently floating around me, I have spend 3 hours having fun and not a Euro (on fragrance, coffee and eclairs don't count). 

Today I went to Jovoy, a funny place called Astier de Vilatte and the Serge Lutens boutique in the Palais Royal. 

The three can be easily combined with a stroll along Rue St. Honore and there are worse places to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Jovoy is simply a marvel. A dark walled but still airy interior, lots of space, armchairs for resting and polite and discreet sales assistants who offer coffee and advice, but let you totally in peace if you want to just wander around and sniff. Which is what I did.

My first stop was the selection of MDCI parfums. I sampled them all and my favourite five were: Chypre Palatin (Wow), Vespres Sicilienne, La Belle Helene, Ambre Topkapi and Invasion Barbare. Those 5 will be my choice for the coffret sample set which I hope to order and receive while I'm still here in Paris. 

After that I tried Ramon Monegal Mon Cuir, and Undina was absolutely right to recommend that for my Iris quest. It's wonderful. 

Then I couldn't resist a brand called VanessaTugendhaft. Her perfumes weren't quite so virtuous, and my favourite was Or Jaune, a slightly rosey floral with some spritz to it.

My nose got seriously weak after that and I decided to take a break and come back another day, but before I left the SA recommended Perfume d'Empire's Cuir Ottoman as another leather Iris, and he also mentioned that they will go up in price soon because of a re-design, so PdE fans should stock up. I probably will too, because I tested it on skin and it's a good contender with some powerful sillage and standing. 

Out I went (didn't dare asking for samples, that's the downside of this trying to speak French malarky: it makes me even more clumsy when asking for them. The French word alone is a tongue breaker). Next stop around the corner and approximately 3456 shoe shops later on Rue St. Honore is Astier de Villatte. Apparently it is known. Well, it wasn't to me, and it's the sort of shop that makes me slightly grumpy, so without a perfume agenda I would never have set foot in it. If you are the sort of person who goes on ebay or has a wander around car boot sales and the like, you will have heard of 'shabby chic'. Shabby chic makes me stabby, because its basically just any tat painted with a chalky finish which is then brushed off again to give it a 'distressed' look. Astier sells that. A lot of it. The shop is so distressed it makes me weep. Everything from the floor to the walls, the 'authentic' dirty sink in one corner to the worn out hand knitted lines they use to prevent customers to enter the upper floor is so artfully old and broken that you might think you do your bit for charity when you buy some of their overpriced tat. I was glad that I had left M. at home. He would have hated every crooked inch of it. 

I only came for the perfume. Not their own range, but the Odeur de Saintete fragrances, which I had first seen the day before in another  'cult' shop, Merci in the Marais.

I love everything about this range. The name, the quirky bottles with the rosary type chain and the name of the perfume on a little cloth label. And the scents of course. What smells!

More about those then tomorrow, time is running out.

Cuir de Nacre, Verweile doch...

...Du bist so schoen. 

It's usually not my style to get overly poetic when describing perfumes; I leave the elegies and opulent odes to those better equipped for that sort of thing, but in this case I have to make an exception and use a quote from Goethe's Faust.

"Verweile doch, du bist so schoen.."  (Stay a while, you are so beautiful) is probably the most quoted quote from the most quoted play from the most quoted author in the German language.

Often tragically misquoted, these few words do not describe a romantic encounter with a woman, but Faust's wish to capture the impossible: the fleeting moment. Bliss, we would probably say these days. I don't want to get too literature lectures here, but it is a defining moment in the play and I have spent many an hour in school debating it. What I find interesting is the connection with perfume and when I tested Cuir de Nacre from Ann Gerard it was the thing that immediately came to my mind, and with some regret. 

My visual interpretation of Cuir de Nacre by Ann Gerard

How can something so beautiful be so eager to disappear? It is the most elegant and soft leathered Iris, much softer than the Cuir d'Iris from PG, and I want to bury my nose in it and cry out:" Verweile doch...!" But no, it won't. Not only does it not stay forever, it doesn't even keep long enough for polite company. The moment of bliss, when you fall in love with a scent is very bittersweet here, because it makes puff and it's gone. I actually thought that something was probably wrong with the sample, or my skin or both, but it seems its fleeting temperament has been noted by other perfume bloggers as well. I'm a tiny bit heartbroken. 

How and where to wear:

High speed dating

Verweile doch image via flickr by silviaN, some rights reserved

It's not just black and white...

...at least not in equal amounts.

It's probably not very difficult to guess who would win in a battle of black vs. white in fragrance names. If you go on basenotes and search for black (in English and French) you get 1054 hits in the product category, whereas white only brings up a meagre 296. 

I just have to look at my admittedly not very big perfume collection (getting there...) to confirm this. Apart from a sample of Lalique's White, I don't own any other scent with this colour in its name, and the only other one I ever tried was White Linen, by Estee Lauder. It smelled exactly like I imagined, of white, innocent bedsheets. Terribly uninteresting but reassuring. Blacks on the other hand I have quite a few as I'm sure so have most perfumistas and my findings (you can probably tell I was a bit bored this afternoon) are not at all unexpected.

But, what about the ever entertaining competition game between the Anglo Saxons and the French?

                       

Black 921 versus Noir 133. That did come as a surprise, at least to me. 

Sorry, the French. 

                                                 

Man in black beret image via flickr from Bob Jagendorf, some rights reserved

Parfumerie Générale, Cuir d'Iris

I am on a quest for an Iris based scent. I can't properly explain why, it just felt like the right thing for autumn, although I'm usually not overly fussed by seasonality. In my head I have this idea of a cold and elegant yet powdery scent that encapsulates  the sensual and even more so: sexual beauty of the flowers. I also wanted a perfume that isn't cosy, but makes you feel like you could kiss ass in a boardroom full of self importance and testosterone (not that I have much opportunity to do that, but that's not the point). I'm not sure if I can find what I'm looking for; it might not even exist. And may be when I do find it it will not contain even a hint of iris. But I know that there is good fun to be had in the process and I will have found some interesting fragrances along the way. 

One of the perfumes I've discovered is Cuir d'Iris from niche perfume house Parfumerie Générale. So, Iris covered in leather, how do you smell?

My visual interpretation of Cuir d'Iris, Parfumerie Générale

Rather beautiful. It starts with a  bit of a fanfare, like an overture, setting the musical theme for the rest of the symphony: Iris! Leather! Chocolate! Then comes a very leathery first movement, so leathery in fact that I asked M. if I smell a bit of cow, which he dismissed as a silly idea. And while the leather softens, the iris hovers over it and gets more attention. And with the animal in the background the perfume gets sweeter and melts on my skin like  the most delicious praline. And this, in combination with my earlier cow suggestion brings this association.....

Please don't think I'm making fun of the hard labour of a perfumer. Nothing can be further from the truth,  but once you have an image in your head it's difficult to get rid off.  Fortunately I really love cows.  And chocolate. And this perfume. It's not the type of Iris I was looking for, but it's unusual, it smells delicious, lasts forever and doesn't cost an obscene amount of money. It's a full bottle candidate. Parfumerie Générale have another iris based scent, Iris Oriental  which is also gorgeous, but even further from my very personal Iris fantasy. So I will keep on sniffing and also looking out for the candyperfumeboy's  Iris note special which he has promised to write soon. 

How and where to wear:

If you happen to be on a diet and feel a bit low, this scent will make you feel a lot better, sexy and seductively sweet. 

I'm hoping that the people at Nestle won't sue the live out of me for using the Lila Kuh image, which belongs to them entirely. 

Shopping review: Kristal pharmacy, Nunhead

It's not very likely that you have ever heard of Kristal pharmacy in Nunhead. You might also be forgiven for not knowing were Nunhead is. It's a small South East London neighbourhood, just between Peckham, Brockley and East Dulwich. And it's on the up, as they say in estate agent circles. It also happens to be the place where I live. The small high street is home to a slowly changing array of shops; from the strictly useful (dry cleaners, corner shops) and nice to have (florist, hairdresser), to the new and aspirational (bike repairs, musical instrument maker and vintage furniture), the foodie goodies (deli, bakery, butcher, greengrocer), the famous (best fishmonger in South London) all the way to the arty pop up. Throw in a handful of fast food places, a solicitor and  an estate agent and you have all you need at your doorstep. And of course there is a pharmacy. Not just any pharmacy, the NHS takes residence in  Aladdin's cave type of pharmacy. 

Air freshener, Bath oils, Camping accessories, Dior, Egg warmer in the shape of an Easter bunny, Fish food, Guerlain, Halogen bulbs, Incontinence pads, Jazz CDs, Kenzo, Lipsticks, Moth balls, Nurofen, Olive oil, Plastic Buddhas,  Q-Tips, Rice cooker, Superglue, Tomato soup, Umbrellas, Versace, Water feature with blinking lights, Xylophone, YSL, Zorro mask. 

I particularly like the "In loving memory" for Granddad and Grandma items (whatever they are) next to the mummy and the skeleton. 

The place is an amazing treasure trove. I have yet to go in there and ask for something they don't have. Their storage space must be some sort of Tardis like emporium. The best thing is the ever changing, often seasonal shop window and I will put up  more photos when the Halloween deco is out. (Done!) It's also always busy, with people waiting for their subscriptions to be processed and taking the time to stroll around, having a chat...

But of course I wouldn't write about it if there wasn't any relation to perfume. 

Quite surprisingly in such a crammed place, there is a decent wall of fragrances. They have all the big brands, and lots of them, with prices ranging from "Wow, that's cheap" to "good value". It's always a pleasure to go in and check if anything has been newly discounted. There are some dust collectors, big gift sets at the top of the shelf, but this is not a place to shop for vintage, pre-reformulation Caron, people here know their stuff, and it gets bought. I came a few days too late for a 50 ml Mitsouko Edp that was better priced than anything on ebay. 

What places like this make me realise is that perfume is cherished and valued pretty much all over the social spectrum, and that, niche perfumes aside, the lady of leisure with a Bentley driving husband is wearing pretty much the same fragrances as the working class girl with the South London accent. 

So, I'd like to say, do come and visit Nunhead, because it's lovely and all that, but more realistically you will find a similar place just down the road from your home. You have probably never been inside, dismissing it as a place where the blue rinse brigade shops, but give it a try, you might find some treasure. Or just all the things you never knew you needed...

Testa Maura, Carticasi the Green

Buying perfume samples online makes me feel like a child in a sweet shop. Whenever I'm on a website offering me x amount of samples for a small sum I go a bit nuts. And if they have testing friendly prices, like Bloom, Les Senteurs and Roullierwhite, I'm very happy to indulge in my hobby and include some never heard of scents just for the fun of it.

Testa Maura is a Corsican perfume house and Carticasi is described as: Mastic, galbanum, rose. That's it. Take it or leave it. Completely fulfilling any clichéd image I ever had about Corsica. If you don't like it, f... off. We don't need you or any of your Parisian friends. Don't buy our houses, don't eat our food, stay away from our women (this knowledge is entirely based on Astérix en Corse...)

Unfortunately, I've never been to Corsica. M. has been, and he says it's the most beautiful place in Europe. I'm not disputing that, but I really want to see for myself. A lot of travelling descriptions seem to agree on the particular aroma of the island. Chestnuts, for sure. And this alluring mastic. The resin of the mastic shrub, often used as a spice to flavour Mediterranean sweets, can also be chewed as a gum, the word "masticate" actually derives from the very plant. 

Testa Maura perfumes are labelled as being made of 100% natural ingredients so I assume that the scent is quite a true rendition of the original plant and its resin, but I wouldn't be able to tell for sure before I have been to Corsica and smelled it myself (hint, hint, hint.)

My visual interpretation of Testa Maura, Carticasi

There is a German rhyming song about colours and this line:" Gruen, gruen, gruen sind alle meine Kleider, gruen, gruen, gruen ist alles was ich mag..." sums up this perfume quite nicely. Even if you don't speak any German, I think you get the gist of it. This is a green scent, make no mistake. But what a green! All the greens! From the citrussy yellow to the mossiest dark, and lots and lots in between. A fresh scent with tons of warmth. Does that make any sense? I hope it does. The freshness here is not the Northern European pine tree sort, it evokes the Mediterranean, sun burnt soil and dry, resinous shrubs. There is something raw and untamed about it but it's never harsh. For the rose note you have to wait a while and when it arrives it's faint and a mere hint. Carticasi is a beautiful fragrance but it needs some sun on the skin, so I will come back to it in summer. Or even better, take it with me on a journey to Corsica (hint, hint, hint.) 

How and where to wear:

On a ferry to Corsica, sprayed on hair that gets swept in the warm wind

La Corse image copyright Astérix en Corse by Hachette Livre, Paris

Perfumes in the friend zone: Liz Earle Botanical Essence No.15

Do you have a beauty regime? Quite a silly expression, I know. But since I have one, I actually feel better in and with my skin and it shows too. I think. Before I came across Liz Earle's skin care products and her hot cloth cleansing method in particular, I was a complete slattern in terms of make up removal. Not that I used much anyway, but the little I did put on stayed on, over night, clogging up pores, giving me panda eyes and blotchy cheeks. Very bad habit. I have actually forgotten how I came across LE, I guess it must have been Sali Hughes writing about it in the Guardian, but since then I have not not washed off my make up in the evening once. Even when drunk. With one of my online orders I got a sample of her fragrances, Liz Earle Botanical Essence No.15. I sort of dismissed it, thinking that if I had never heard of any of the 14 others before, it was probably OK to give this one a miss too. Fast forward a few months and now seriously back into perfume after a long pause, I one day emptied the washing machine and found the very same little perfume sample vial stuck in the rubber sealant around the door. No idea how it had ended up there, but it must have been through at least one circle in the machine, if not more. 

And this time I did try it. 

My visual interpretation of Liz Earle Botanical Essence No.15

It would be in accordance with my little entry story for the perfume to smell soapy and clean, but that's actually not the case. And of course, the No. 15 in the name doesn't stand for the 15th effort in fragrance making either, but describes its 15 main botanical ingredients.

It's a spicy and fresh start, middle and finish. It stays exactly like is is from the very first sniff. Cinnamon, pink pepper, a bit rose, a bit wood, nicely combined and with some good staying power. I am a big fan of spicy roses so I definitely like this one a lot and it ticks all my boxes but it doesn't manage to wow me. May be it's the linear structure, the complete lack of surprise due its unchanging nature,  but the tiny little bit that makes us falling in love with a perfume is missing. It will stay firmly in the friend zone. Sorry, Liz.

How and where to wear:

A good companion for a great night out, which may or may not include some snogging, just don't forget to take off your make up afterwards!

Am I being reasonable?

Beatnik

Winter is coming. Not my favourite time of year, with some exceptions: Ginger bread, stews, soups and other heavy food, Christmas trees and hot baths. I assume I'll find the ginger bread when I go to Lidl this week and the hot baths season has already started. I like all kinds of fragrant oils and bubbly soaps in the bath and Lush does some fun things that are sometimes just the ticket. Many people hate Lush for what they describe as olfactory noise, stinking up shopping malls and high streets. I was always fairly tolerant to the nasal onslaught, but still, the idea of going perfume shopping at Lush never occurred to me. Just too much goes on on there, screaming at your nostrils. Well, you read this book and that blog and live to learn that Lush has a decent perfume range. Opinions about quality differ, but it certainly got me intrigued. The first thing I tried in the shop was called The Voice of Reason. Cool name.

 "It's dedicated to the written word, like, you know, ideas... and that time in Paris when people were sitting in bars and smoking cigarettes." O-tone from the very, very enthusiastic and very, very young shop assistant. I felt positively ancient because I can remember people smoking in bars and used to do that myself, sometimes even in Paris. Philosophy and smoking go well together, visually. And olfactory? An ashtray smell is not everyones cup of tea, but if well done even that can be a vital ingredient to a wonderful perfume. Balance is everything. So, is this Voice of Reason reasonable?

My visual interpretation of The Voice of Reason, Lush

Of course it isn't. Where would be the fun in that. This perfume smells of all things unhealthy. Smoke, cold ashtrays, hot ashtrays, booze in various forms and colours, strong coffee, liquorice, sweat, flesh. Not one for delicate natures. When I open the little bottle (they do a 5 ml version) it actually reeks. But it's totally bewitching at the same time and I want to smell more of it to see what happens. On skin it develops slowly, the smokiness gets softer and drier, and sweeter and gentler notes make themselves heard, but it's still quite a beast of a perfume. I'll use that one sparingly, but it stays close to the skin. Many people will hate it, I think it's great. It's the fragrance version of all things that your parents ever warned you about. I'm soon hitting menopause and still find that cool, so make of that what you will.


Edit: A few days after I wrote this review I got felled by a really bad cold. Not being able to smell anything is quite annoying (and I am bored) so I tried a few perfumes by sniffing at their bottles. VoR is incredible. Not only can I actually smell it through my blocked nose, it feels like it crept out of the bottle like some living creature, a djinny, and it still stays with me after half an hour although I didn't put it anywhere on my skin or clothes. (And no, I don't have a fever.)

How and where to wear:

Well, what can I say? A bar? In Paris? Wearing a black turtleneck? 

Who am I to tell you how to wear your perfume anyway? 

  Beatnik image via flickr from Dunechaser, some rights reserved

Dries van Noten par Frederic Malle, a most elegant cookie

Dries van Noten & Frederic Malle

A designer perfume usually describes a fragrance created for and marketed by a fashion or beauty label. And while fashion and perfume are natural best friends, far more thought and effort seems to go to design the former and not much creativity is then left for the latter. Often the perfume feels like just an afterthought and a nice little money spinner. 

Hence the arrival of the niche perfume, small perfume houses creating nothing but fragrances in collaboration with independent perfumeurs who are given  freedom of creation without having to appeal to the mass market. But nothing is ever black and white. There are fashion label who produce perfumes that could be described niche just for the fact that they are distributed in the genre typical way of relative exclusivity. Maison Martin Margiela, for example. Others, like Etro or Comme de Garcons have enough of an "edgy" image to allow perfume creations that have been quite extraordinary. 

But when a niche perfume house releases a scent named after a fashion designer all these classifications are turned upside down. Or are they? For this perfume Frederic Malle acted as an intermediate between the perfumeur Bruno Jovanovic and the Belgian fashion designer Dries van Noten to create a scent that would be his olfactory version of the world of Dries van Noten. The ultimate bespoke perfume. You cannot get more 'niche' then that.

My visual interpretation of Dries van Noten par Frederic Malle

I don't know whether the scent is a true representation of him as a person, I only know his magnificent collections, and as important those might have been for the style of the perfume, I doubt that DvN (the man) can be described by them alone. The first sniff of DvN (the perfume) is a surprise. It has a slight fizz to it, in German I would say:"Es bizzelt." And that brings always brings a smile on my face. And very soon that fades and develops into something incredibly soft and smooth, like custard cream, silky panna cotta and the softest buttery biscuit. This sweetness is again unexpected but very pleasant. There is a lot of sandalwood and patchouli to ground it, and for me it stays elegant throughout. An elegant cookie, who would have thought? I usually don't like gourmand scents too much, but this is different, probably not even a real gourmand, and simply delicious. It's perfectly unisex, but I think the softness/elegant juxtaposition will work to better effect on a man and on the Right one this will be incredibly sexy AND comforting, irresistible AND reliable. Dries van Noten is only the first of a new series of scents dedicated to special people that Frederic Malle will curate over time and I am very curious about who he will pick next.

How and where to wear:

Propose in style

Image of DvN & FM via fredericmalle.com

Andrea Maack, Craft

So here I am with my first blog related dilemma. While the discussion is still out whether perfume is an art form on it's own, artists have becoming increasingly interested in using scent as part of their work and vice versa, perfume houses are collaborating with artists from all disciplines to create inspired fragrances. Andrea Maack is an Icelandic artist who started to use perfume in her installations which then became a product in their own right and she launched a niche perfume house "by accident". I like her idea of taking a piece of the artwork from the wall and use it as blotting paper for the fragrance. 

The problem I have is that I would be doing a colour interpretation of a perfume that was created as an olfactory interpretation of an illustration. Having seen the pieces she apparently created for "Craft", I am faced with the fact that my view on this perfume couldn't be more different. I'm not an artist and this is not an art project, but I do feel a bit uneasy about it. In the end I have decided not to show some of her drawings here, but leave the link to the promotion video for reference. Please have a look at her work online. I like her intricate patterns and think they will work well on fabrics which is apparently her next line of work.

But,  as soon as you take them out of their artistic context, these art perfumes are indistinguishable from any other on the market. You can buy them, they get promoted and shown at trade shows, they get reviewed. Andrea Maack wants us to believe that they have "stripped perfume off it's nostalgic feel" and the aim was to have a "futuristic, clean approach"; a simple scent that "does convey a strong message". I know this is just PR, but somehow it grates on me. Many potential customers will try the perfume without having seen any of the art or even heard of the artist and it's the quality of the fragrance that counts then, not a artistic concept which has long become obsolete. If the scent was fantastic I would forgive all that brouhaha, but unfortunately I really don't like it. 

My visual interpretation of Andrea Maack, Craft

It has an interesting start, suggesting a deep dark forest of doom. Grimm's fairy tales in their original, rather adult versions before they got smoothed and made suitable for bedtime stories. The German in me likes that. The smell gradually gets a bit lighter, but the opening in the forest is never full of sun light or pretty ditsy flowers. The lightest colour comes from the fog hovering above the ground. Or is that the steam from the sauna? Because that is really what Craft smells on me after half an hour. And that is not a good association. The original idea was for the perfumes never to be worn, and as part of an installation that's a valid concept. But as soon as you step into the world of commerce that just doesn't work anymore. In the video Andrea Maack says that she just took whatever fragrance was created without any discussion or further participation. So why on Earth should I give this perfume any more thought than she did ? I find it a bit of a shame, to be honest, and a missed opportunity. But may be I'm just a grumpy old cow and not futuristic enough.  

Andrea Maack parfums vimeo video

How and where to wear:

On wool scarf when you have a cold


Forest ground image "Sleeping beauty" via flickr, by Frau Boeb, some rights reserved

Shopping review: Liberty, London

So, where do you go for your perfume shopping? Department store, independent boutiques, online or in person? Do you try to get samples before you purchase a full bottle?

I do a mix of everything but some shopping experiences are nicer than others. Therefore, I will describe mine here in a series of posts. I start with my favourite hunting ground for perfume in London: Liberty.

It's difficult not to like the outside of  the shop with it's iconic timber framed front and the often quirky shop windows. It feels totally out of place amongst the hustle and bustle of Oxford Circus. But it's not a Disneyland imitation, it's still the right thing, very British, very stylish and very expensive. The scarf hall on the ground floor is a collection of wonderful silky things of nothingness that you can drape yourself in. And the shop assistants not only allow you to do so, they encourage you, knowing that the more you play the more you'll want to buy. So first go and find the perfect scarf and then imagine to spray it (carefully) with your most loved perfume...Yeah, I know, I can't afford them either, but one can dream.

So, away from the silks and to the perfume. Apart from the pop up stalls of various perfume houses, amongst them Byredo and Frederic Malle, there is the main perfume room at the back. Slightly dark with lots of shelves in all the nooks and crannies, it has an intimate feel to it. It doesn't try awfully hard to be hip or boudoir or extravagant and allows the perfumes be the heroes. And I like that. So you start to browse. And you will probably be asked if you need help, but that can take a while. And again, that's something I like. You can spend as much time as you need there. And you can spray and sniff. Whichever bottle you like. The collection is fantastic and much bigger in store than online, so keep that in mind when you plan your shopping. You will find most of the major niche brands, selected designer fragrances and some of the classics. It's great for people watching as well, the last time I went a woman who apparently visited from the Middle East bought three massive Liberty bags full of perfume. The staff must see a lot and are totally unfussed. When it comes to asking for samples, Liberty is a mixed bag. Some shop assistants are more generous than others. It helps if you have a bit of a chat. And also, be persistent in a charming way. Buying a perfume helps of course as well. You will have better luck at the pop up stalls, especially Byredo are usually very helpful. If you like your perfume browsing undisturbed and your collection more on the high end niche side then Liberty is the place in London I would recommend.

Image via Liberty.co.uk

Parfums de Nicolaï, New York

Cities and perfumes have one thing in common: They sell dreams.

Whether they are mythical or real, cities inspire us, bring out the best and the worst in us, make and break us, and have promised glory  and delivered doom. They evoke strong opinion and fight hard for a place in our hearts. So naming a perfume after a city can be tricky, because so many imaginations are already out there and in general no one will agree with your olfactory version of Paris, Bombay or New York.

And, of course cities change incredibly fast, one just has to look at the rapid transformation of places like Shanghai. When Patricia Nicolaï created New York in 1989 her idea of the city must have been different from the one we have now. Back in the late 80’s New York was still regarded as the true and only melting pot and whether you believed that to be a good or a bad thing depended on your political couleur.

My visual interpretation of New York, Parfums de Nicolaï

The first time I was wearing it it created a veritable rainbow in my mind, and this will be forever the image I'll have when I think of the scent.  PdN N.Y. is indeed a celebration of the melting pot New York, and all the colours of the rainbow come and say Hello while it dries down after a strong citrus beginning. There is orange spice and red flower, green and blue freshness, and most surprisingly, this rather old fashioned poudre, like a Guerlain compact, for which I have chosen the purple. To manage this kaleidoscope without  making a mess is no small feast. It is classified as a masculine scent but I think nowadays it would suit both genders. I’d happily wear it. It doesn’t set my world on fire, but it’s beautifully made, slightly formal and it makes me a bit sentimental. I would certainly like that on a man and so my How and where is more for the boys this time.

How and where to wear:

First date, while the conversation will flow from A to Z and back, so will your perfume

Massimo Vignelli's 1972 New York City Subway Map (image: nycsubway.org)

Portrait of a Lady, best in Bloom

In my childhood photo album there is a picture showing me all dolled up in a red velvet dress, white knee socks and black patent leather shoes. I have long forgotten who got married that day and made me a flower girl, but the dress and the shoes I remember. Or better, I remember how proud and pretty I felt wearing them. To this day velvet holds an irresistible magical fascination and when I see a velvety item in a shop I will need to touch it. Sometimes also buy it. There are a few velvet things in my wardrobe, but they don't get out much. The little bolero found in a second hand shop in N.Y. 15 years ago is now worn permanently by the vintage mannequin, the Ibiza style dress for which I'm now 20 years too old, the black graduation dress hand made by my Godmother and a few other oddities. They all mean something to me and made me very happy at some time.

So as the soft and shiny texture of velvet, its opulence and figure hugging properties will always seduce me, a perfume that can translate this into scent will have no problem to entrance me. Meet the "Portrait of a Lady" by Edition de Parfums Frederic Malle.

My visual interpretation of Portrait of a Lady by Edition de Parfums Frederic Malle

She is a rose, of course, this Lady. No surprise here. Velvety petals of the darkest red rose, soft, seductive, rich and and proud. But be aware that his is no innocent rose, probably not even a lady.... She has smoke and spice in her, and sparkling wit. I don't know what parfumeur Dominique Ropion's inspiration was, may be the Henry James novel, but I like to think that it was a very special woman and that he wanted to make any woman wearing his perfume feeling beautiful, seductive and ever so slightly dangerous. For the colour interpretation I wanted to show the shiny wafting ripples of the scent and its amazing sillage accompanied by the black resin that gives it its darker side. It doesn't change all that much on me during the dry down, it just gets a bit softer and lasts amazingly long. I think someone should name a rose after it.

How and where to wear:

The Chelsea flower show, grubby Jeans and T-shirt, killer heels, red lipstick

Rose image via flickr by aling_, some rights reserved

Scentertainment event in East Dulwich

Not a perfume review, but an announcement to an event I am very much looking forward to at the lovely Roullier White perfume shop on Lordship Lane, East Dulwich:

L'Ombre dans L'Eau, substantial south facing garden with mature shrubs

If you ask people who neither know nor care much about perfume to describe a scent you will undoubtedly hear " like flowers...like a garden." a lot, so I am very reluctant to use this image myself. 

But I will have to, because this is exactly what Dyptique's L'Ombre dans L'Eau reminds me of. Launched in 1983 by the brand that can be described as one of the first niche perfume houses, it's probably their second best known fragrance after the fig based Philosykos. I first came across it during a stroll in the aisles of Space NK and was instantly smitten. It had been in the early days of spring and the weather so abysmal that I had given up on the idea of buying and potting tomato and flower seeds for the garden and wasn't really caring much how the garden would look like in the coming summer. And suddenly I was transported to a garden which I had visited the year before and loved : The garden at the Red House in Bexleyheath, created and owned by William Morris. 

My visual interpretation of L'Ombre dans L'Eau by Dyptique

The L'Ombre dans L'Eau garden is not the exotic type. There are no orchids, no shangri las, no enchantment, no fairies, no tropical birds. It's a garden where you dig the soil, bury the tulip bulbs, water the tomatoes, prune the hedges, harvest the veggies, dead head the petunias and sit under the apple trees with a book and a glass of wine.

If this doesn't sound appealing then you probably don't have a garden. I do most of these things in my little London back garden, and I love that this fragrance reminds me of them.   

It has leafy, green notes aplenty and there is a good splash of earth as well. And of course it has the roses. What would a garden be without a rose? It's the most intimate and secret of all my perfumes, I love to wear it when no one is around. This is helped by the fact that I own the little roll on perfume oil, there is no spraying and no wafting. I obviously lose the top notes but I don't mind. 

A garden can be home to an astonishing array of colours, but for the postcard of this scent I stick to the greens and some red/pink tones, and the pattern is inspired by William Morris textiles, albeit in a very abstract way. Go visit the Red House in Bexleyheath in late summer, buy a book and sit under the apple trees.

How and where to wear:
First date, the Arts and Craft section in the Victoria and Albert museum, 
Liberty print scarf