Bois de Jasmin

Top Ten Favourite Men’s Fragrances

The Father’s Day was yesterday, and in keeping with the theme, I would like to offer a list of top ten masculine fragrances that I find simply outstanding, whether I wear them myself or not. Although the line between feminine and masculine can be somewhat arbitrary, the labeling can be useful as shorthand for identifying particular families and styles. By way of example, fougère is a family that for the most part finds its way into the masculine fragrances; therefore, for women who love the aromatic interplay marking the compositions in this genre, the masculine market will offer many interesting options, from the classics like Caron Third Man to the new releases like L’Artisan Fou d’Absinthe. It is also fascinating to observe the emergence of new trends and techniques in the masculine domain. Ultimately, the decision to designate something as pour homme or pour femme must be a personal one.

1. Azzaro Pour Homme by Azzaro

Jean Patou Perfume Bar

I pick up a delicate Bordeaux wine glass and bring it close to my face. However, instead of taking a sip, I inhale deeply and lose myself in the banana jam redolent sweetness of the prized jasmin de Grasse. The rose walls are lined with shelves of liquid filled bottles and the counter is graced with the silver martini shaker, however despite the illusion, I am not at a bar. At least, this place does not serve alcoholic cocktails for internal consumption. Instead, the glasses are especially made for fragrance testing by Henry de Monclin, and the traditional perfumery bottles on the shelves contain 200 of the finest raw materials and essential oils. Mme. Catherine Saudubray tending the bar has a degree from ISIPCA, the most prestigious perfumery school in the world, and as she gracefully threads paper strips dipped in various absolutes through the upturned Monclins, she narrates the history of the house, interspersing it with the absorbing comments on the materials I am smelling. ...

II. Spring Flower Bouquet ~ Hyacinth

A Greek legend tells a story of the flower blooming from the blood of Hyacinthus, a youth accidentally killed by Apollo. Remembrance is the meaning tied to it. Unlike the more delicate lily of the valley, everything about hyacinth is bolder and more vivid--the masses of star shaped flowers on thick stems, the heft of blossoms, the headiness of perfume. This intoxicating sweet fragrance, almost oily in its magnificent richness, has been praised in the Persian poetry, mentioned in the Bible as Lily of the Valleys and loved by the Marquise de Pompadour. It inspired people to sell their possessions during the bulb craze of the seventeenth century and influenced perfumers to capture the enthralling fragrance which is rich, voluptuous, yet intriguingly spicy and green. Indeed, its unique qualities make hyacinth a fascinating note to explore. ...

I. Spring Flower Bouquet ~ Lily of the Valley

Spring came into my house with the bouquet of tulips, their crimson petals touched with the delicate scent of wet foliage and rain drenched earth. As I sat on the floor, caressing the satiny buds, the memories of past springs rushed forth, scattering like pearls from a broken necklace. Some were sweet, others were less so, and yet all of them were tinged with something ineffable that makes heart skip a beat. The smell of acacia blossoms after the rain… wearing short sleeves for the first time in months… tasting first strawberries… the chestnut trees coming into bloom overnight, as if someone had orchestrated this breathtaking transformation by magic—these are the details that conjure the exuberance of spring for me.

For the past few years I have been living in places where spring is a mildly unpleasant transition between the dreary winter and the scorchingly hot summer. It has been a consolation that some fragrances have never failed to afford me a glimpse of the idyllic spring—blue skies with a few wispy clouds, tree branches dotted with sticky buds, rain drops on apple blossoms, and elation caused by the seemingly trivial things. Seasonality when it comes to perfume is an issue of few rules and many subjective viewpoints, but smelling the acacia trees jeweled with the delicate clusters of white blossoms makes me wish for a fragrance that captures the intoxicating scent marrying orange blossom, jasmine and a hint of coconut. If one cannot have an ideal spring, then one can search for that spring via perfume. ...

From White to Red, From Chaste to Seductive: Many Faces of Rose

“Each rose that comes brings me greetings
from the Rose of an eternal spring,”
Rabindranth Tagore, Bengali poet

If jasmine is the King of flowers, rose is most certainly the Queen. Whether one prefers the smiling and effervescent roses, like Hermèssence Rose Ikebana, Les Parfums de Rosine Un Zest de Rose and Parfums 06130 Yuzu Rouge or the somber oriental and chypre like Serge Lutens Rose de Nuit, Montale Aoud Queen Roses and Frédéric Malle Une Rose, the diversity in the world of roses is both fascinating and astounding. Just as aromas of fresh roses can range from apricots to violet jam, the fragrances exploring roses can offer a great variety. Attempting to provide a full overview of roses in the modern perfumery is an impossible task, therefore I shall limit myself to offering a few favourite examples of the rose focused fragrances that demonstrate a particular character and style.

The classical aldehydic florals cannot be envisioned with a rose, glowing in their hearts like a precious jewel, its honeyed sweetness and vegetal richness supporting an opalescent veil of aldehydes. Chanel No.5 is the archetypal aldehydic floral, while Guerlain Liu is Jacques Guerlain’s answer to Ernest Beaux, whose other creation Chanel No.22 gathers a bouquet of white flowers, rose caught among lilacs, orange blossom and jasmine and anointed with myrrh. ...

Starting Next Week: Rose for A Valentine

With only a few weeks before the Valentine Day, I shall start writing about the flower that is full of symbols, many of which are pertinent to the day celebrating love. "A floral symbol sacred to Venus and signifying love, the quality and nature of which was characterized by the color of the rose. A symbol of purity, a white rose represented innoncent love, while a pink rose represented first love, and a red rose true love," says the Dictionary of Art. At the same time, rose conceals many secrets under its silky petals. 'Mystery glows in the rose bed, the secret is hidden in the rose,' sang the Persian poet and perfumer, Farid ud-din Attar, in the twelfth century. Is love ever an easy to understand concept anyway?

Therefore, I shall try to cover as many different aspects of rose as possible, from its innocent side to its seductive, femme fatale persona.

Please come back on Monday to read my review of the newest fragrance by Les Parfums de Rosine Rose d'Amour.

Top 10 Discoveries of the Year

The end of the year inspires one to reflect on the events that took place over the previous twelve months, to analyze and to draw up resolutions. That is, if you are an organized and clearheaded individual, unlike me. My end of the year is usually much less reflective, being filled with holiday planning and travel arrangements. Nevertheless, this year is different, in light of the important decisions I have been contemplating and the numerous projects on my plate. Indeed, this year has been quite special in many respects, and it is a pleasure to think of the various discoveries I have made during the year. Here is my list in an alphabetical order.

1. Aroma-chemicals

Musk, violet, amber… Having always loved to explore the perfume materials and to collect natural essences and aroma-chemicals, this year I had a chance to sample a large variety of synthetics that were not available to me previously as well as to learn more about fragrance chemistry. This experience has been quite eye opening to the complexity of various aroma-chemicals and the interesting accords they can form with natural essences. What in the past I would have simply termed musky, now has much more nuance: powdery softness of Galaxolide, metallic freshness of Habanolide and so on.

2. Caron Masculines: Pour Un Homme, L’Anarchiste and Le 3ème Homme de Caron

The first time I tried Le 3ème Homme de Caron, I became mesmerized by its unique combination of smoky floral facets with the sweet, balsamic undercurrent. It sparked an interest to explore the other Caron masculines, and what wonderful discoveries they were! None of the quintessentially masculine traits are present in Caron masculine fragrances, and even Pour Un Homme with its lavender sparkle illuminating the ambery sweetness does not strike me as particularly virile. Instead, their classical structures are ornamented with unusual touches, resulting in fascinating, multifaceted compositions.

Winter Fragrances and Holiday Scents

The dark slender branches are bent under the weight of the snow, forming an arch over my head. Shielding my face from the large soft snowflakes, I look up at a sky in which the pale disk of the sun drowns in a pearly white haze. My first memory of snow is difficult to trace. I just remember walking to school through snow banks that were twice my height. The snow would sparkle under the street lamps, lighting the early morning darkness, a darkness that would only lift much later in the day. Even now I can wake up in the morning and sense that it is snowing because of the serenity and slumber which seem to take over the world at that particular moment. The only thing one wishes is to make a strong cup of caravan tea, wrap oneself in a blanket and sit next to the cold window watching the snow fall, fall, fall….

The crisp, mineral and slightly ozonic smell of the snow is one of the most important smells that I associate with winter. I have yet to encounter its realistic rendition in fragrance; however, there are a few fragrances that capture the spirit of the winter garden. Frozen branches and soil attain the most unusual scent that folds earthy and woody elements into metallic clarity. Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist is the scent of frozen roots and iced flower petals and has a beautiful chilliness that does not dissipate even after the fragrance dries down. ...

Happy Holidays!

I wish everyone wonderful holidays! May the weekend be happy in all respects. I celebrate Christmas on January 7th, however one cannot pass up an opportunity to have a holiday, therefore I shall be hosting a dinner party and enjoying time with friends and family. What do winter holidays smell like? Please come back on Monday to read an article on the scents evoking this time of year.

Fragrance today: Lalique Le Parfum. Its luxurious sweetness touched by the warm bite of pepper is a perfect choice for this cold and snowy day.

La Maison Guerlain: Perfumery and Museum

Entering the gilded interior of the Guerlain flagship boutique at 68, Avenue des Champs-Elysées one already feels the vivid contrast between the cold, grey Paris in winter and the sparkling Second Empire décor of the ground level. Yet, it is only by ascending the stairs that the contrast is brought to a climax. Spiral staircase, its dark wood sprinkled with golden squares, opens into a cavernous hall with rounded walls covered with spectacular gold mosaic. Unlike the more traditionally decorated ground level, it is at once retro and baroque, modern and futuristic—a luxurious setting befitting the fragrances and a self-help venue for a no-nonsense shopper, a rather curious juxtaposition. Created by a famous interior designer Andrée Putnam who is responsible for some of the most prominent fashion boutiques, La Maison Guerlain can rightly be listed among the haute perfumeries of Paris. If there ever existed the Guerlain perfume museum, 68, Champs-Elysées is the one.

Large room with a chandelier which opens up into the boutique downstairs contains a circular table where most of Guerlain classics and moderns are arranged in three rows, the highest for the extraits de parfum and the lowest for the EdTs. Moreover, the mirrored wall contains shelves filled with the bestselling Guerlain fragrances, which include Vetiver, L’Instant and Mitsouko, among others. All aspects of the layout ensure easy and unassisted sampling, which one can do for hours. ...

Scents of Paris

What does Paris smell like? My coat still bears traces of cigarette smoke, incredible Jean Patou Julye on one arm, Parfum des Merveilles on another and overall something distant, yet poignantly familiar.

Over the next few weeks I will intersperse my reviews of fragrances with stories of the fragrance cocktail bar in Jean Patou boutique, the Imperial fountains of La Maison Guerlain, meeting various perfumers and creators and discovering the real scent of Paris.

Claude Monet. The Boulevard des Capucines. 1873. Oil on canvas. The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, Kansas City. Abcgallery.com

Favourite Winter Fragrances

In the depths of winter I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer. Albert Camus, French existentialist author and philosopher.

Today I wake up with the feeling that it is winter already. Even the white light flooding my bedroom has a chilly quality. The winter means holidays and a much needed break, but before one can reach that stage, it signifies the end of the semester and the madness of the exam week. Therefore, please let me indulge once again into making a list of favourites, my winter favourites that have a warm quality or that allow to awaken my "invincible summer." Please share yours. 

My Winter Favourites (alphabetically ordered)

Cacharel LouLouAn abstract vision of dark red flower touched by the dark verdancy, LouLou veils its voluptuous heart of jasmine, tiare and mimosa in the velvety richness of vanilla. The tropical warmth of this fragrance allows one to escape into the world where snow does not exist.

Donna Karan Black CashmereIts incense laced darkness clings to the skin much like the fabric from which the fragrance derives its name. Warm sweetness of woods and spices in Black Cashmere is a perfect antidote for the cold weather.

Christian Dior Eau Noire Caramelized bitterness folded into the silkiness of woods, Eau Noire is one of my favourite fragrances by Francis Kurkdjian. Its multifaceted and unusual composition warms up beautifully on the skin, maintaining the sensual and comforting character.

Top Ten Favourite Fragrances

Happy Thanksgiving! In lieu of writing on a specific perfume today, I have decided to compile a list of my favourite fragrances. Needless to say, this is rather a snapshot of my current state of predilections and a result of a painstaking task of trying to pick only ten fragrances. I left out probably ten times as many my most beloved fragrances as I ended up including. Nevertheless, here they are: my top five classical and top five modern favourites. Please share yours and do not feel constrained to make separate lists like I did!

Top Five Classical Favourites

Caron Nuit de NoëlIf the mood of a quiet snowy day were captured in a bottle, it would be redolent of Nuit de Noël, a fragrance that represents the beauty of rose and incense intertwined over a dark mossy base.

Chanel Bois de IlesAmong Ernest Beaux’s compositions, Bois des Iles’s perfection stands out. It is a painting of gilded woods touched by the delicate spicy notes.

American Fragrance Classics

What are your favourite American fragrance classics?

The first American pharmacy opened in 1729 in Philadelphia, where drugs and perfumes could be purchased. After several ownership successions, the pharmacy ended up in the hands of Hazard, Caswell and Massey. Thus, Caswell-Massey can rightfully claim to be the oldest pharmacy in the United States. Many others soon followed.

Elizabeth Arden, originally Florence Graham, opened up her beauty shop in 1910, creating Blue Grass to commemorate her favourite Virginia retreat.

Charles Revson, a son of a Russian immigrant, along with his brother Joseph and a chemist, Charles Lachman—the “L” in the company name, founded Revlon in 1932. Their first fragrance Norell, named after the designer Norman Norell, debuted in 1968.  ...

Scent of Fame: Celebrity Fragrance Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Jennifer Lopez and others

Walking through the fragrance aisles of Sephora makes me feel as if I am browsing through a Hello magazine with the names like Britney Spears, J.Lo, Paris Hilton, and Kimora Lee Simmons popping before my eyes. However, I am selecting the fragrances labeled with names famous for things that are only tangentially related to fashion and fragrance on purpose. Currently, there is a strong trend for celebrity fragrances, with new offerings coming up what seems like every week. From Celine Dion to Nicole Richie and Maria Sharapova, celebrity status and perfume come hand in hand. From a perfume industry perspective, any brand capable of selling fragrance is welcomed, given the changes in its business model and the high rate of competition. The number of releases is increasing each year, with the consumers exhibiting less and less loyalty to a single scent. While the number of new fragrances in the 1950s were around 10-20 per year, with the average market life of a product around 15-20 years, in the recent decade, there are close to 150-200 launches each year, with the market life averaging 3!

I cannot help but feel a bit of reticence, especially in light of the fact that I have no particularly strong desire for any specific celebrity perfume, simply because it bears a famous name. Should I happen to dislike the celebrity in question (and in some cases, I indeed do not harbour much admiration), then I might be less eager to try their perfume. However, are such pre-conceived notions justified? In order to answer this question, I stand in front of fragrance shelves in Sephora resolutely glancing past Annick Goutal and Bvlgari to try Alan Cumming The Fragrance and Britney Spears Fantasy. I briefly contemplate a blind testing, however for the sake of preserving a sane appearance, I decide that an open mind shall do. ...

Inception of Love for Perfume: Diorissimo, Chemistry and Trésor

What sparked your love for perfume? My own passion for scent is a journey with no end in sight, yet I cannot but attribute three main factors to its inception: Diorissimo, Chemistry and Trésor.

As Nabokov noted in Mary, “Nothing revives the past as completely as the smell.” If my early memories had a scent, they would be redolent of Diorissimo, lilies of the valley blossoming on a misty spring morning. Diorissimo was my mother’s favourite fragrance, its little pink box with black and white checks concealing a small bottle of extrait de parfum. She worked at the chemical engineering research institute, which was an organization with a very vague purpose. Or perhaps, it is just my confused memory, because what I recall of the institute had little to do with either chemistry or engineering. Yet, imagining my glamorous mother trailing a scent of Edmond Roudnitska’s legendary creation down the halls of that dingy grey building never fails to amuse me. She would drop me off at the pre-school and then leave, yet the scent of her would remain.

That veil of scent leaving an imprint upon the memory is what I wanted to have as well. However, it was a specific veil, differing from the cloud of “Krasnaya Moskva” my school teacher would force upon me when chastising for a lack of interest in the pioneer activities. It was also completely unlike a wave of “Shipr” cologne one would notice when passing a careening drunkard. “Shipr” (chypre in Russian) was often a drink of choice for the Soviet alcoholics when vodka was not in stock (and yes, it took a long time to overcome my prejudice towards chypre genre.) The scent I was craving was ethereal and elegant, a blend of white flowers and crushed leaves. I would surreptitiously dab on my mother’s Diorissimo before my ballet classes, feeling elegant and ethereal myself (despite whatever mirrors told). 

Another motivation to learn more perfume was provided by the Soviet emphasis ...

Dark Fragrances

There is something captivating about darkness. It conceals, it beguiles, it frightens. What is clearly obvious in the daylight loses its familiar shapes in the dusk and transforms into an entity altogether different. Same with perfume. Infuse the rose with dark woods and amber, and the composition suddenly attains a feel that is not to be expected of the violet and rose combination. Below are only some of my favourites from the dark category, encompassing chypre, oriental and floral, vintage and modern.

Black Cashmere by Donna Karan— incense in a tapestry of serene darkness
Bandit by Robert Piguet—archetype of leather chypre genre, shocking, yet unforgettable
Dzing! by L’Artisan Parfumeur—animalic made ethereal
Fracas by Robert Piguet—rich tuberose, redolent of sandalwood and warm skin
Musc Ravageur by Frédéric Malle—postmodern Shalimar, a seductive combination of cool top accords and warm animalic base
Narcisse Noir by Caron—almost sinister black flower hiding under the luminous orange blossom touches
Opium by Yves Saint Laurent--spices and woods melt over dark carnation into a composition that cannot but capture one’s attention (be it in a positive or negative way)
Rose de Nuit by Serge Lutens—rose petals scattered over a dark ambery base

If you have your favourite dark fragrances, I would love to hear what they are.

Opium advertisement from psine.net.

Theme of the Week: Autumnal Scents

Fall is only beginning to be felt, but I am starting to crave rich luscious scents as well as fragrances layered with smoke and leather. This week will be devoted to scents that suit the autumnal mood:

Balenciaga Le Dix
Burberry Brit Gold
Chanel Bois des Iles
L'Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two
Serge Lutens Cuir Mauresque

Top 10 Summer Fragrances

The day is wonderfully serene, helped by the fact that I am away from my computer, my cell phone and a massive pile of work that is supposed to evolve into a dissertation. The surface of the river is reflecting the sun shine, with the waves breaking up rays into small gilded pieces. I swim across the dark water to reach a big stone where I strech out, enjoying a contrast between the cold water and its warm rough surface. The river provides a respite from the heat that seems to be suffocating the city. The smell of the water is sweet, with the wind bringing the scent of tall pine trees near the beach. Even the sun seems to attain a smell as it hits the skin—soft, dry and ambery. If there is a reason to like summer, then it is for the perfect moments like these.

While heat and humidity never made summer very appealing for me, summer scents are among most memorable. They are the scents of the gardens in full bloom, of hot stones and summer drinks sipped slowly while sitting at a small café. The essence of summer is in the scent of cool watermelon eaten on the beach as well as in the scent of hot asphalt and dusty leaves. As for a perfect summer fragrance, certain perfumes work particularly well in the summer, either because they are transparent citruses that chill the skin or luscious flowers that blossom in the warm air. My list (in no particular order) encompassed both:

1. Annick Goutal Eau d’Hadrien

2. The Different Company Divine Bergamote

3. Guerlain Eau Impériale

4. Comptoir Sud Pacifique Tiaré

5. Hermessence Poivre Samarcande

6. Serge Lutens Fleurs de Citronnier

7. Parfums 06130 Yuzu Rouge

8. Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Anisia Bella

9. Chanel Cristalle Eau de Toilette

10. Parfums de Nicolaï Juste Un Rêve

If you would like to see more Top 10 Summer Fragrance lists, check out An Alabaster Brow, Blogdorf Goodman, Bois de Jasmin, Brain Trapped in Girl's Body, C'est Chic, Koneko's *Mostly* Beauty Diary, Life in Paris, Make a Mental Note, Now Smell This, Ombligo!, Seldom Nice Nowadays, Self-Styled Siren, She'll Be Feverish After So Much Thinking, and This Bananafish Smells Like Leaves.

Perfume Paths of Paris Part II

Please see Part I.

From rue de Rivoli, we turn onto rue Castiglione and find ourselves in front of Jean Patou boutique. The store is unexpectedly outfitted in tongue-in-cheek mod décor, which gives it a very lighthearted feel. Although the selection is only of the most popular Jean Patou fragrances—thus, my hopes of finding a bottle of Moment Suprême are dashed, Neela and I enjoy smelling the absolutes that comprise Joy and 1000. I am glued to a bottle of jasmin de Grasse, and Neela starts to look worried that I might do something impetuous. Unwillingly I separate from it and instead settle on a bottle of Joy EDT, a mist of jasmin de Grasse and rose de mai on a naughty civet base.

We walk down rue du Faubourg-St. Honoré past elegant boutique windows and sparkle of lights inside. We make brief stops at Longchamps, Lanvin, and Hermès boutiques. Although the tour has already taken up a couple of hours, Neela makes it feel not so much a shopping spree experience as an intimate process of discovery. For this reason, she insists on charting her tours on an individual basis, for either one individual or a small group of friends. During our walk, Neela mentions other interesting perfume places I can visit when I have more time, like Miller et Bertaux store and Parfumerie Générale with its "cosmetics bar" among others.

Walking into Caron boutique makes me feel as if I stepped into a jewelbox, with its glittering décor of mirrors and gilded ornamentations. The extrait de parfum of most fragrances are contained in sumptuous Louis XV-style Baccarat crystal urns, which is why some Caron fragrances are called urn perfumes. The fragrances come in a variety of sizes, with a number of refillable options. The large boutique on rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, across from Jacques Chirac’s residence, is a joy to behold, since it feels like a private boudoir filled with an assortment of colourful trinkets, charming perfume bottles and bowls containing weightless down puffs in delicious shades. The charming sales associate dressed in a rather theatrical outfit sprays my neck with Tabac Blond, and I am almost tempted to buy it on the stop, but Neela suggests to wear it a while longer and possibly return tomorrow, which is certainly a good idea with any perfume and even more so with classical compositions. Selecting the right fragrance is a very introspective process, during which one should forget about marketing, fashion trends and outside opinions. If a scent touches something inside one’s heart, if it makes a wave of pleasure swell up, then it is the one. Some times perfume is a love at the first encounter, and others it is a courtship slowly developing into a lifelong attachment.

The final stop is for tea at Ladurée, a location of my favourite macaroons in Paris. Champs-Elysées with its magnificent broad sidewalks radiates west to the Arc de Triomphe. It is indeed busy and touristy, with people either walking rapidly on their way to work, or strolling leisurely absorbing the rhythm of the place as people are wont to do when they are on vacation. I have spent too much time in London and New York to be able just to stroll, but I try to slow down as Neela and I walk towards Ladurée. As we chat over our Darjeeling tea and rose cream macaroons, I remark to Neela that even though I have already spent a significant amount of time in Paris, I nevertheless managed to discover some special aspects of its perfume treasures with her help. I feel drunk on perfume and on Paris, and I cannot help agreeing with Hemingway, who said, "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." I would just note that revisiting Paris always heightens its appeal.

Paris shopping and tours information is available at Perfume Paths website.

Photo: Jean Patou boutique, rue Castiglione.

Perfume Paths of Paris Part I

The hazy light lends a serene quality to the view that is unfolding before me as I walk towards the Seine leaving les Invalides with its large gilded dome behind me. The outlines of the Pont Alexandre III begin to emerge fuller, its beaten copper water spirits catching an occasional ray of sun breaking through pearly grey clouds. For me, Paris is at its most enchanting on an overcast day and preferably before trees are covered with thick foliage that obscures the distinct architectural style of the city.

Perfume and Paris are linked in a strong bond that is difficult to severe. It is a place where one is guaranteed to make a fragrant discovery, be it a bottle of perfume or a scent of éclair au chocolat. Whatever sensory pleasures one wants to experience, from sight to taste, Paris offers them generously.

By the time I reach Sephora at the Caroussel du Louvre, where I am supposed to meet Neela, I already can hardly contain my excitement. Calling her up before I arrive, I ask whether she would be willing to take me on one of her signature perfume discovery tours. When I first met Neela, a fellow perfume lover, she was thinking of capitalizing on her thorough knowledge of Paris and her love of perfume. Eventually, the ideas she had took shape of Perfume Paths, customized tours of perfume treasures hiding in all corners of Paris. Naturally, I am curious, and I want to explore the perfume haunts of Paris, especially since I have only a couple of days on this visit and need to optimize my time.

Neela walks into the store, and one cannot help but notice her warm and friendly presence. She already has a plan of our adventure in mind, having previously learned about my latest perfume loves and disappointments. Moreover, I am touched that she remembers that Palais Royal is my favourite place in Paris. Not to mention, my deep affection for Serge Lutens boutique located under its arcades. The geometrically arranged rows of trees stretching their dark branches against an overcast sky on site of what used to be the residence of Cardinal Richelieu create a melancholy atmosphere. Les Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido with their dark purple interior and a spiral staircase in the middle have a seductively mysterious atmosphere. However, the most enticing sight is of the rows of bottles precisely arranged on the tables. I smell Iris Silver Mist, the first Serge Lutens’ fragrance that captured my heart. Created by Maurice Roucel, it is a vision of a winter garden, with scent of flowers forgotten in the snow cutting through the crisp evening air. Next, I sample Chêne, and its layers of smooth bitter wood with a rich mossy ornamentation develop into a beautiful dark veil on my skin. Neela suggests that I should wait longer for the final dryout note, but I decide that I am already too smitten. A bottle of Chêne and a replacement bottle of my other favourite Bois de Violette are being rung up for me, while Neela and I exchange a few words on the new releases with the Serge Lutens sales associates, who clearly know and like my lovely tour guide.

The sky turns greyer as we walk through Jardins du Palais Royal on our way to Colette, a store on rue St. Honoré selling avant-garde clothing, home furnishings and beauty lines. Named after the famous French writer, Colette always has an atmosphere of excitement and fun. It is the place to see the latest creations by Lucien Pellat-Finet and Tom Ford as well as perfume lines like Norma Kamali that cannot be found anywhere else in Paris.

Walking via Marche du St. Honoré, we make our way to Montale boutique, which is another discovery of the day for me. A line by Pierre Montale, who used to work for Comptoir Sud Pacifique, is a journey into the Arabian Nights, with its fragrances based on rose attar, sandalwood and Middle Eastern spices. The line also includes a range based on oudh, the fragrant wood of Aquilaria species. In contrast to somewhat formal Serge Lutens boutique, Montale is very laidback. A beautiful sales associate with long dark blond hair asks whether I would be interested in some samples, which is a very appealing offer, since seeing dozens of exotically named scents is both intriguing and overwhelming. Based on Neela’s suggestions and my own tentative conclusions, I ask for Crystal Flowers, Chypré Fruité and Patchouli Leaves to test later at leisure. Neela’s attention to detail amazes me once again, because as soon as we step out of the boutique, she handles me a wipe, which she gives her clients to remove the fragrances off their hands before they step into another boutique.

The column commemorating Napoléon’s 1805 military campaign that terminated in the battle of Austerlitz is the focal point of Place Vendôme, a square that is now a home to bankers and jewellers. In contrast to the opaque heaviness of the patina covered bronze column, made out of 1200 cannons seized from the Austrians and Russians, the windows of the jewellery shops scintillate with the intense glow of diamonds and sapphires. Neela and I cross Place Vendôme to reach Guerlain boutique. Its glory rose with the Second Empire of Napoléon III, whose bee motif still decorates the bottles of its classic fragrances. The boutique has a modern interior of curved walls, which is a bit of a surprise given its Art Noveau styled front. I revisit elegant Chamade extrait de parfum and opt for a beautiful heart-shaped bottle of this ravishing fragrance laced with blackcurrant and hyacinth.

Audrey Hepburn’s love for Angélina made this salon de thé quite famous, however its hot chocolat, chocolat chaud l'Africain, renders a visit there not just a consideration, but a requirement. It is starting to drizzle, and the belle époque salon with its frescoes and gilded mirrors décor feels welcoming. I decide that smoked breast of duck on a bed of fresh salad greens is what appeals to me on this slightly chilly day. Neela selects omelette aux fines herbes and salad of mâche tossed with salt, pepper and olive oil. The food is wonderful, and I am thoroughly enjoying my salad with the dark earthy flavour of duck, perfectly accented with orange scented dressing.

Please continue to Part II.

Paris shopping and tours information is available at Perfume Paths website.

Photo: P.D., 2005.

Return from the Other Shore

"Here, we may say, we are at home, and like the mariner after a long voyage in a tempestuous sea, we may now hail the sight of land."

Although Hegel described the inception of the modern day in philosophy when people began to derive knowledge through reason, this phrase came to my mind whenever I reflect on my own personal journeys. Have you ever had a chance to step back into childhood? I do not mean just to see the old house where you grew up or to meet with an old schoolmate. I mean a complete somersault into your past life, your other life, your life as a child. I am experiencing this moment right now, and I cannot say unequivocally how I feel about it. It is a wave of conflicting emotions. I walk into my old room, and it still looks the same—same furniture, same walnut wardrobe with numerous tiny drawers, same lotus patterned curtains. I see the same books I used to study from—history of the USSR, geography, chemistry, physics, calculus. I find my tenth grade notebook recording all of the marks I received that year: mostly 5 and 4, A and B respectively, with an occasional 2 (D) in Ukrainian language. I find my drawings, my poems, my embroidery patterns pedantically numbered from 1 to 158. Some of my plants left behind ten years ago are still thriving. I look at the hibiscus plant that grew into a tall verdant tree from a tiny bush—lush and oh so wrong for this temperate climate. How did it bear the cold winters? Probably, it adjusted to the life on another shore just like I did.

Yet, many things are different. I see a robe made in North Korea, and it strikes me as exotic. I take a photo of one of the pictures from the geography textbook depicting marked achievement of the socialist world in protecting the environment vis-à-vis its capitalist enemy. The curtains look somewhat tawdry with their gold lurex stripes. The balcony is denuded of its grape vines, which nearly crushed it last year. It used to be wonderful to sit in the jade shade of the vines reading a book and drinking tea. There I read many books, took many naps and dreamt many dreams. There is a layer of neglect and dust on everything—the hardwood floors, the desk, the books, the Czech glassware in the cupboard, the memories. Well, perhaps, not memories. Memories are awakening, taking control of me, shaking off the patina of time and cobwebs.

Outside my windows, the world is different. It is moving along the post-communist transition path, along post-Orange Revolution trajectory. Where is it going one cannot say. It is laden with the sense of disappointment and displaced hopes, regrets and envies. One world is long gone, and the maze of corrupted personalities and twisted ideals is taking over the new entity arising in its place. One doctrine is replacing another only to lose its validity after yet another economic crisis. I think of Alexander Hertzen, an influential 19th century Russian thinker in exile. Although known as a founder of Russian socialism, he never viewed this doctrine as a final solution to the problems of society. "This socialism will develop in all its phases until it reaches its own extremes and absurdities. Then once again a cry of denial will break from the titanic chest of the revolutionary minority and again a mortal struggle will begin, in which socialism will play the role of contemporary conservatism and will be overwhelmed in the subsequent revolution, as yet unknown to us” (From the Other Shore, 147). It is a message of redemption through recognition of contingency and rejection of belief in final solutions and absolute truths. I never fail to feel a jolt reading Herzen's rejection of the memento mori of idealism, "From this one thing alone is clear; that one should make use of life, of the present; not in vain does Nature in all her utterances for ever beckon life onwards and whisper in every ear her vivere memento” (41). Indeed, this message holds a startling beauty and a profound value, neither of which have been attenuated more than a century later.

References: Hegel. Lectures on the Philosophy of History, trans. E.S. Haldane and F.H. Simson. 3 vols. London, 1963, vol.3, 217; Alexander Herzen (1812-1870), From the Other Shore.

Green Mango and Coconut Milk

Given the fact that gustatory and olfactory systems are closely tied, it is not surprising that some of my early memories are of smells and tastes. The taste of the first summer strawberries, of apricot stolen from a neighbour’s garden, of warm rye bread for which I had to stand in line for half an hour, of mozzarella di bufala purchased from the store owner in Forlì who had secret intentions of marrying me to his son. It is difficult to imagine how to separate what came first, but the scents constitute the essence of my fascination, wherever they occur.

As I am peeling green mangos for my Kerala-style fish curry, the scent of green, piney and slightly floral fruit reminds me of India. I envision small streets in Poona, a city in the state of Maharashtra, where the stalls would be laden with various fruit—towering piles of mango, inky black jamun, pink and white guava, pomegranates sliced to reveal their jewel box-stuffed-with-rubies innards, slices of coconuts ready to eat. The light refracted through the clouds is soft and radiant, filling everything with a glow that makes bright colours shine. Looking up while walking through the Old Delhi market is a dangerous endeavour, lest one to lose a sense of navigation through the dense crowds of people and moving traffic. However, whenever one manages to do so, one cannot help noticing exquisitely carved jali (marble panels), with their filigree patterns obscured by huge billboards closer to the ground.

India is a place for the scent obsessed, although at first it is an utter sensory overload. Jasmine, cumin, coriander, cardamom, mango peels, condensed milk, bananas, garbage, smell of bhaaji fried and breads roasted. It is the mélange of olfactory sensations that only can be understood when trying paan for the first time--a blend of spices, coconut, crystal sugar, rose jam and betel nuts, wrapped in betel leaves. There are also versions with tobacco. Placing the entire thing in the mouth and then taking a bite sends a kaleidoscopic refraction of sensations—from sweet to spicy to bitter to refreshing and back in no particular order. Yet, it is the light and the scents that I recall most vividly, the sheer vastness and sensation of both. It is the core of my memory, and it is what draws me back to India.

At this point, onion has already been blended with fresh coconut shavings, curry leaves and ground masala of coriander, cumin and red chili pepper. As I smell wet masala paste, with its creamy scent, laced with green, lemony and sulfurous notes, I think of Jean-Claude Ellena’s Un Jardin Sur le Nil for Hermès, which seemed to have started as green mango, lotus blossom and carrot. I set the pan on fire, add some water and let it simmer. By the time, I have to add pieces of swordfish and ivory tinged with green mango slices, the scent rising forth is intoxicating and mouthwatering, made more floral by the coconut milk addition. The fragrance of green mango melting into the juices and coconut milk lacks the sugary sweatiness of ripe fruit, while instead possessing a pleasantly astringent quality, with a teasing floral accord hiding underneath the piney notes. Once my curry is finished, and I am inhaling the buttery scent of basmati rice as it cooks, the fragrance of my kitchen is simply wonderful, good enough to be bottled.

Olfactory Desserts

Perfumes enchant us when they create an illusion of transporting us to a place, real or imaginary. Traveling through the ether of reconstructed memory, one fills in gaps by embellishing. Scents act as conduits through which these embellishments become even more enchanting and more precious. Yet, while traveling spatially and temporally is an important part of fragrance’s allure, there are times when teasing the senses and creating certain impressions is what perfume does best. Given the strong link between olfactory and gustatory perceptions, one would not be surprised to discover the smells of food appearing in fragrances. Indeed, the last decade saw a surge in everything vanilla scented, combined with a small cottage industry pondering the question of why vanilla appeals to men, if it even does. The explanations generally range from conscious childhood memories to the presence of vanilla components in breast milk. At any rate, vanilla deserves its own topic and its own week.

The point of this article is not so much as to highlight the obviously gourmand fragrances, but to reflect on fragrance as an olfactory dessert, teasing the palate, conjuring images of luscious and decadent, without taking an obvious step in that direction.

Abstract desserts

Although classics are rarely envisioned as olfactory desserts, many venerable creations sought to combine notes and accords in such a way as to create a vision of something mouthwatering and delicious. They achieve this illusion by weaving in threads of notes that hint at the presence of gourmet pleasure—a hint of peach melba in Guerlain Mitsouko--with the accords that are not edible, but rather deep and philosophical—Caron trademark dark undercurrent supporting violet scented almond macaroons in Farnesiana. As Luca Turin notes in his discussion of Jacques Guerlain, he was a master of creating olfactory dessert fantasies (Emperor of Scent). Inhaling his L’Heure Bleue, I envision sugared aniseeds whipped into iris and jasmine cream. Shalimar is a stunning bergamot liqueur melting into smoky vanilla. Other classical fragrances are likewise successful in creating a hint of gustatory delight hiding within the composition. Caron Violette Précieuse is a mélange of caramelized violets over a dusky Caron base. Givenchy L’Interdit (original) is a bowl of sun warmed strawberries under the abstract aldehydic-floral swirl. Some of the recent creations manage to sneak in gourmand notes without making a clear nod in the foody direction, thus, maintaining the pleasure of discovering soft gourmand whispers woven into the tapestry. Maurice Roucel’s L’Instant de Guerlain is a vision of citrus meringue on white musk, recalling legends of Chinese concubines being fed musk flavoured foods to imbibe their skin with the precious scent. Christian Dior Dolce Vita is chocolate over cream flavoured with essences of sandal and cedar woods. Serge Lutens Fumerie Turque is a vignette of candied rose petals, cognac and tobacco, teasing, and yet not quite edible.

Exotic desserts

Fascination with far away places and a desire to experience a glimpse of the world that is different from one’s own has been driving humans since the creation of time. In perfumery, the most daring pursuit took place during Art Deco period (1910-1929) and its infatuation with exotic and unusual. Spices, amber, vanilla, roses and almonds are some of the notes that can be present in the compositions that I classify under exotic olfactory desserts. The most alluring creations are the ones that conjure gustatory sensations, while preserving an abstract quality. Thus, Jean Claude Ellena’s Ambre Narguilé is an olfactory besan halwah, a soft Indian confection of ghee, roasted chickpea flour, almonds and semolina with raisins, cardamom and burned sugar bits. Not intending to be a gourmand fragrance, it manages envelop the wearer in a brocaded shawl and swirls of smoke, while hinting at the presence of a mouthwatering dessert nearby. Maurice Roucel’s Tocade is an abstract gulab jamun, fried milk balls soaked in rose syrup. Parfums de Nicolaï SacreBleu is a Turkish dessert of apricots steeped with spices and then stuffed with thickened cream. Jean Claude Ellena’s Bois Farine makes me think of Japanese sweets made from rice flour and adzuki beans.

Sorbet and Fruit Desserts

Fragrance as sorbet is a composition that pairs a refreshing sensation of ice hitting the palate with the delicate flavour of the supporting notes. Shalimar Light is jasmine and lemon sorbet, while Les Parfums de Rosine Un Zest de Rose is a composition of lime and white rose folded into icy paste. Hermèssence Rosa Ikebana is a rose-scented rhubarb gelato. Nina Ricci Deci Delà is a raspberry salad with hazelnut custard. Les Parfums de Rosine Rose D’Ete is fruit salad with yellow rose syrup. Chanel Allure is a melon and citrus arrangement drizzled with rabdhi, Indian condensed milk syrup.

Nouvelle Cuisine

Nouvelle cuisine in perfumery attempts to excite as many senses as possible, which can result either in something daring or repugnant. Although after the debut of Thierry Mugler Angel, the number of fragrances in this category has been increasing exponentially, the results are as disappointing as they are overwhelming. While caramel, chocolate, honey, and glace fruit in the hands of Angel creators, Oliver Cresp and Yves de Chiris, were combined to create a Ukrainian Christmas torte of fruit filled rolls layered with honeyed cream and walnuts; in the hands of its imitators, it is a passed down fruit cake. Two fragrances worthy of mention in this category are by Givenchy and Yohji Yamamoto. Givenchy Organza Indécence is a triple vanilla tour de force paired with the sharp sweetness of Vietnamese cassia bark. Yohji Homme by Yohji Yamamoto with its amber, cinnamon, sandalwood, leather, coffee and rum is a seductively teasing composition, with the judicious use of spices to enhance the power of intoxicants.

Scent of Travel

The announcement came that my flight is going to be delayed by another hour. I actually love airports and have many pleasant memories associated with them, other than those times when I was either being interrogated by Italian custom officials or being taken for a drug smuggler by their American counterparts. It was in those days when I was traveling under a Ukrainian passport. Yet, I love rush of the crowd, anticipation of a new journey, bittersweet pangs of parting, slight fear of take off, impatience to arrive. My maternal grandfather was a director of a factory that transformed fighter jets into passenger planes, and I grew up surrounded by airplane parts. Airplane is perhaps the first thing I recall from childhood. I remember floating dahlias from my grandmother's garden in one of the containers made from a jet fuel cell. The silvery sides reflected intense sunshine, while the inner sides were coated with green slime from the constant contact with water. I would bend over the canister bringing my face closer to sweet smelling water until my grandmother would warn that I might fall in and drown. Somehow that did not scare me at all. Instead, I was fascinated by the bottomless silver well that tapered towards the bottom.

One of my great grandmothers was part Roma, and I must have inherited my nomadic tendencies from her. I often feel at the moments of dissatisfaction a strong urge to get on the plane and leave. Somehow, things are very different midair.

As I hear flight boarding calls and as I watching people rushing past me on the way to their destinations, I think about scents and travel. I am not talking about duty-free stores, which are fascinating, especially when the layover is long and the book has been finished during the first leg of the trip. What I mean here is travel via scent, an ability of smells to change spatial and temporal dimensions as we understand them, to blast a memory out of "homogenous, empty time," to use Walter Benjamin’s phrase. Desire to move beyond the universe we know best and to experience the life as lived by others is at the core of many human achievements, not least of which is perfume. Art Deco (1920s-1930s) made the enchantment with far away places the focus of its creativity. François Coty’s trendsetting Chypre (1917) was purportedly inspired by the scents of herbs and shrubs found on Cyprus. Mythical place in India, a garden Shalimar, built by Shah Jahangir for his beloved wife Mumtaz Majal, led Jacques Guerlain to create Shalimar (1925), a fragrance evoking a garden where jasmine embraces bitter orange trees—or at least, to christen the perfume he created by this name, which in itself constructs specific images for those who wear it. Islands in the Pacific and spices nurtured by their soil is the transporting essence of Ernest Beaux’s Bois des Iles for Chanel (1926). On a less exploratory note, Jean Patou understood a desire for a short break from the routine. Hence came Vacances (1936), an opalescent lilac and mimosa combination that transports to Côte d’Azur, leaving one feeling surrounded by cool sea breeze and mild sunshine.

Some perfumers especially relish travel, grounding their creations firmly in the places that inspire them. Serge Lutens and Chris Sheldrake’s creations are vignettes of the Middle Eastern impressions—spice markets (Arabie), sweetmeat shops (Rahät Loukoum), wind blowing through the desert (Chergui), camel caravans (Muscs Koublaï Khän), chai-hana (Fumerie Turque). Certain scents are linked to particular countries. Thus, India smells of jasmine (Serge Lutens A La Nuit), nag champa (Narcisse Noir), golden champaca and basmati rice (Ormonde Jayne Champaca). Egypt is the place where lotus is a revered flower, thus this note appears in creations inspired by the Nile and its environs (Olivia Giacobetti’s Cinq Mondes Eau Egyptienne, Jean-Claude Ellena’s Un Jardin Sur Le Nil for Hermès). Japan’s scent impression is green tea and sakura blossom (Guerlain Cherry Blossom) as well as cedarwood (Iunx L’Eau Sento No. 2). Greece smells of figs and cypress (Diptyque Philosykos), while Spain is redolent of roses and tobacco (Molinard Habanita). Comme de Garcons, an intrepid traveler, is the only one I can think of that selects Russia as the travel destination--and Zagorsk, no less--with a combination of iris and Eastern Orthodox church incense.

My own fragrant magic carpets include Guerlain Coriolan, which smells like hot rocks and shrubs I remember from Malta. Annick Goutal Petite Cherie awakens up a memory of eating peaches on the Black Sea beach, sticky juices dripping onto warm sand. Frédéric Malle En Passant is Kiev in the spring. JAR Parfums Jardenia is an unreliable navigator, first taking me to Sochi, a Russian coast city smelling of magnolia and caper buds and then suddenly transplanting me in the middle of Androuët, a cheese shop on rue Saint-Dominique in Paris.

I sit on an uncomfortable airport chair staring out of the window behind which planes are taking off one after another. From the darkness shot with the straight ribbons of lights on the runway I see my own reflection. There is a mélange of scents that is the most potent temporal transmission belt for me--hot asphalt streets of Kiev, sweltering under the intense June sunlight, tall chestnut trees with their large dusty leaves, sugar cookies prepared by a local bakery. I want to run as fast as possible up the dark stairwell and enter the warm familiar scent of our old apartment. There is no perfume made up of these smells, however in about 8 hours I will experience them in reality. Sometimes, the Latin saying is poignantly true—navigare necesse est, to sail is necessary.

IUNX Boutique

Olivia Giacobetti’s boutique on Rue del’Universite, right in the heart of St. Germain, is not to be missed due to its pleasant atmosphere and unique decor combining Zen-like simplicity and futuristic touches. Called Iunx (pronounced ‘Yoonks’), this amazing perfume gallery, created in 2003, is sponsored by Shiseido, with the interior designed by Francis Giacobetti, Olivia’s photographer and film director father.

The essence of Olivia Giacobetti’s Iunx range is revealed in her own words when she says that "In ancient Greek, Iunx refers to the fascination and seduction of aromas. …. Fragrance moves towards a unique way of combining simplicity, innovation and technology." Ten androgynous fragrances in the Iunx range (please see my reviews) are light eau de toilettes, more similar to eau de colognes. They are designed to be light splashes, linear and simple. Like most Olivia Giacobetti’s creations, they showcase her ability to render a certain essence, a radiant simplicity.

The dark interior of the boutique is dominated by a lily pond, surrounded by unusual installations that allow to sample fragrances in a highly interactive way. Tester cones through which the scents of lotions, creams and shampoos can be inhaled, candle sample sticks permeated with luscious scents are some examples of the ways Iunx discovery takes place.

Right behind the lily pond, one finds a glass installation holding large fragrance flacons, illuminated only by opalescent light. Fragrances are tested by a button being pressed under each number, releasing a just scented paper strip. When one is ready to sample fragrances on the skin, helpful sales associates dressed in slim black ensembles lightly touch cabintes with concealed doors, revealing rows of tester sprays.

It is definitely one of the most pleasant fragrance shopping experiences I have had—leisurely, quiet, a respite from the world outside the boutique’s walls. I cannot recommend a trip there highly enough.

The stars of the range, in my opinion, are the room and body products which are of high quality and come in a wide range of tantalizing and unusual fragrances from exotic flowers, luscious fruit to smoky woods. Shower gels have scents such as courgette (zucchini) flower, melonseed, linseed and wild rice. Moreover, Longan and Rum and Date Honey shampoos are luscious and leave hair subtly scented and soft. The candle collection is definitely worth exploring, with scents like White Lily (Lys Blanc), White Yucca (Yucca Blanc), Galangal, Papyrus, Saffron (Saffran), Red Sandalwood (Stanl Rouge), and Sugar Cane (Canne A Sucre), to name my favourites. Every candle I have had was enchanting, releasing potent and long lasting fragrance lavishly into the air. Furthermore, Iunx Ozmotek system designed to scent a room is likewise great. I especially liked Vapeur Rose and Vapeur de Sucre, a scent of delicate red roses heated by the sun and a mouthwatering flowery caramel, respectively.

Finally, the sensory experience is complemented by Iunx macaroons, with flavours like Ambre Blanc, white amber (vanilla, white sandalwood, rose petals and mandarin), Havana (white tobacco, rum, honey, spices, saffron, and vanilla), and my favourite Madras (rose, saffron, mango pulp, green almond, cardamom, sandalwood and black cumin).

Unfortunately, the boutique does not ship overseas, however EU residents can call 33 1 45 44 50 14 to place an order.   . The US residents can purchase IUNX products from Scenteurs D’Ailleurs.

Delving into Archives

There are times when perfume acts as a magic carpet for a travel in time, and then there are moments when research leads one into the dank archives of the past. Thanks to the passionate and generous work presented on Scented Pages, a website everybody with at least a passing interest in perfume needs to visit, I had a chance to discover a rich bibliography on all aspects of fragrance. From science and history to specific perfume houses, the website presents an impressive range of literature.

The exploration of the bibliography led to the discovery of several fascinating New York Times newspaper materials, which are available from the New York Times archives. Thus, an article from 1871 surmises that New Jersey might become the next Grasse. Another article from 1929 discusses the new perfume releases that would be appropriate as Christmas gifts. The article I pounced on immediately is titled The Twenty "Noses" of France, written by Donald William Dresden, 1947, because it is usually rare to see the perfumers in the spotlight.

I should note before I begin that the article is hardly a piece of journalism that needs to be emulated. For one thing, I will not deny that the article was highly irksome, even if I recall the social context of the times. Here is one such illustration. "Only a few people have the supersense of smell necessary to become a Nose—for reasons known only to Noses themselves, no woman has ever had it—and still fewer the patience and emotional attitude to undergo the required training…" Clearly, Dresden forgot about Germaine Cellier of unforgettable Bandit (1944), Vent Vert (1947) and Fracas (1948). I have encountered some scientific research that reveals that a woman’s sense of smell is more acute than a man’s, with its acuity positively influenced by the levels of estrogen, the levels of which change throughout the menstrual cycle, with the highest levels recorded in the first half (Nature Neuroscience, March 2002). Not to segue into another topic or anything...

However, the rest of the article is such a riot that I cannot help sharing some particularly memorable bits. Indeed, I laughed out loud on several occasions. By way of example, the Nose has certain characteristics, which the writer describes in almost social Darwinist terms. "As befits his station, the typical Nose is an imposing looking man. Generally he is middle-aged with fine graying temples or just the right amount of baldness to indicate that he had made his way in life." If one may wonder, Dresden assures that "the nasal formation is not unusual." However, "he has lofty brow and features of the intellectual and an air of dedication verging on absent-mindedness."

And how about this imagery? "Here in Grasse it is commonplace to see a parfumeur créateur pacing slowly under the plane trees in the courtyard of an old, rambling perfume factory, sniffing meditatively at one or more of these strips of paper. A deep concentration wrinkles his brow and his demeanor reminds one of a Wall Street banker studying the pros and cons of a big loan or of a diplomat weighing a delicate démarche."

A reader may ask an obvious question, why are there only twenty Noses in France? The author explains that the amount of dedication and the inborn talent required weed out quite a few people. "For that reason they are only twenty Noses in France, and this world-famous perfume center is their natural habitat." None of the names are mentioned, nor are their perfumes revealed, thus, we are left to guess as to the identity of any of these Noses, and appropriately so, given the air of mystery Dresden attempts to create.

The Twenty "Noses" of France by Donald William Dresden. New York Times, December 28, 1947, pg. SM10.

Picture: French vintage advertising poster for a shaving cream from 1922. It does not relate in any way to the topic of my article, however a flying clown with a sickle appeals to my idiosyncratic (and at times sophomoric) sense of humour.

Lost in Reverie: Scent and Memory

There are some powerful odours that can pass
Out of the stoppard flagon; even glass
To them is porous. Oft when some old box
Brought from the East is opened and the locks
And hinges creak and cry; or in a press
In some deserted house, where the sharp stress
Of odours old and dusty fills the brain;
An ancient flask is brought to light again
And forth the ghosts of long-dead odours creep.

When opening a perfume bottle and receiving a jolt that lifts some recollection from the depth of memory, I often think of Charles Baudelaire’s The Flask. The word perfume derives from Latin: per means through, fumum signifies smoke. Through the smoke of incense offerings to the gods… Through the mist of time, the past comes back in veils of images long lost under the layers of information the brain processes on daily basis. Three percent of our genes are devoted to olfaction, which is an impressive number. According to my neuroscience textbook (Nicholls et al., 2001), “odors are detected in a patch of about 100,000 olfactory receptor neurons whose axons project through a thin portion of the frontal skull to the olfactory bulb.” In comparison to visual and auditory receptors (four and one, respectively), the number of olfactory receptors is much higher, about 1,000. Moreover, unlike other receptors, they are continuously replaced.

I step into the blinding June sunlight, determined to take a walk despite the heat. The scent of my sunscreen mixed with a hint of Après l'Ondée almost changes the scenery around me, taking me back to Warsaw, where I was gathering data on economic reforms in July of last year. I was interviewing various Polish politicians, and in between talking about the benefits of establishing local governments and copying endless data from the Statistical Library, I would wander around the city, exploring its parks—my favourite Park Łazienkowski overgrown with mock orange and some white shrub that smells like wet paper, outdoor café shops, and museums. After a Polish guide went on a long harangue about Russians during a visit to yet another palace, I wisely decided to hide my Russo-Ukrainian origins. I would usually say that I was Estonian, until a cab driver asked me what is “hello” in Estonian. I muttered something incomprehensible and quickly paid my fare, giving him far too large of a tip by accident.

And suddenly, I am standing in a middle of one of the oldest American cities, and the memory of Warsaw, including this incident springs to my mind as if some invisible button was pushed. The same feeling of being caught in a lie makes me blush immediately, followed by a nostalgic longing for a cup of coffee and a piece of charlotka, a Polish apple cake, at Blikle café. Someone once remarked, if only moments can be bottled. Indeed, they can.

Yet, the scent can not only conjure the past, it can shape new longings and new visions. In conclusion, I would like to quote another of Baudelaire’s poems, Exotic Perfume, which explores the images that the poet envisions after inhaling his lover’s perfume:

Islands of Lethe where exotic boughs
Bend with their burden of strange fruit bowed down,
Where men are upright, maids have never grown
Unkind, but bear a light upon their brows.
Led by that perfume to these lands of ease,
I see a port where many ships have flown
With sails outwearied of the wandering seas…

Painting: Portrait of Baudelaire by August Courbet, 1848.

References: Nicholls et al, 2001; The Poems and Prose Poems of Charles Baudelaire. Ed. James Huneker.

Of Cocottes and Countesses

As I once heard, Guerlain is for cocottes, Caron is for countesses. An avid fan of both houses, I will be tongue-in-cheek, and thus next week will be devoted to the house of Caron. The fragrance note of the week will be sandalwood. As promised, I will also post a review of Guerlain Chant D'Aromes. I am gone for the Memorial Day weekend and will post next on Tuesday.  Enjoy your weekend and thank you for visiting and sharing your thoughts with me!

Ballet and Perfume: Balanchine's Perfumes

Watching an interview with the late New York City Ballet artistic director and choreographer, George Balanchine, on a DVD titled simply Balanchine (2004) led me to another Guerlain reference of this week. In an interview, Balanchine mentions that he liked buying perfumes for his dancers and especially Guerlain. Although he did not name any specific perfumes, in another article I read that Mitsouko was among his favourites. The interviewer must have made a comment about the beauty of dancers as they trail perfume on the stage like lithe fragrant flowers, to which Balanchine replied, waving away the remark, “No, no, I just like to know once I get to the theater whether everybody is present and who is missing.” This was a quintessential Balanchine moment. Having such a grounded perspective in the ephemeral world of ballet is a true rarity.

Photo: George Balanchine and Suzanne Farrell in rehearsal.