Rich Hippie gets a lot of blowback on the blogs for the sky-high pricing of their fragrances, which is understandable, as it does seem more than cheeky to ask for what amounts to $450.00 an ounce for something with the word "hippie" in its name (even when it's preceded by the word "rich").
But there's a lot to like about the Rich Hippie line: its commitment to natural ingredients; its use of organic grape alcohol in its base rather than alcohol derived from petroleum; its support for organic farming methods; its small-batch approach to production -- and its high prices could very well be a reflection of the cost of its ingredients. When you're using natural essences and grape alcohol rather than synthetic aromachemicals and petroleum-based alcohol, this is bound to affect the bottom line dramatically.
In other words, yes, it totally sucks that Rich Hippie perfumes are crazy expensive, but there's a certain justification for the price point (no matter whether or not you agree with it), and if you're the kind of consumer who's fully on board with supporting 100% natural products, then you might just swallow your disbelief and shell out the cash. If you're fine with your latest purchase of Dior Miss Cherie, however, the price tags for the Rich Hippie line might make your head hurt. A lot.
But with all of the above out of the way, how good are the fragrances themselves? I ordered four samples so that I could find out for myself: Woodstock, Krishna, Nirvana and Groovy.
First, let me say that for 100% natural perfumes, they pack some oomph. My biggest complaint with the likes of Social Creatures and Ayala Moriel (for example, and this is not to diss on either because they both do excellent work within the field of natural perfumery), is that no matter how striking and excellent, they come across with so much less potency and power than their synthetic counterparts that I'm left almost mystified as to where they ran off to only twenty minutes after application. While Rich Hippie costs about 4 to 5 times more than fragrances from either Social Creatures or Ayala Moriel, it could very well be that the price for Rich Hippie reflects a much higher concentration and/or quality of ingredients used.
Second, and to be fair, part of the oomph may be that these are hippie juices, and as such, they're stuffed with heavy, resinous ingredients. Woodstock is a big, bold mix of frankincense, myrrhe and sandalwood with some light florals sprinkled over the top, and while the florals are actually very nice (they remind me of the quality florals used in Clive Christian No. 1 for Men), what you're mostly smelling is a snout-full of frankincense, myrrhe and sandalwood. So yeah, it lasts a little longer than most natural perfumes, but slather yourself in this juice and you are definitely walking out the door in a cloud of post-60's bohemian chic (fringed shawl and maxi dress not included).
Krishna packs a punch, as well, with a bright smack upside the head of bay leaf, juniper berry and eucalyptus leaf. The description states that lavender, champaca and chamomile are also present, but hoo-doggy, that eucalyptus is a chatterbox and you'll have to put up with its nonstop noise for a while before the flowers get a chance to roll on in. Unfortunately for me, eucalyptus has an association with bathroom fresheners -- I think it was in the 1980's where nearly every house I visited had a great big vase full of eucalyptus branches by the bathroom sink. I think even Glade came out with some eucalyptus smelling aerosol freshener. This doesn't predispose me to hand over $225.00 for a half ounce bottle.
Next, we head into Nirvana, and it's becoming quite clear that Rich Hippie is a potent stinkbomb of a brand. Bay leaf makes another appearance, along with a bergamot peel that smells like it was freshly scored off the fruit. Sandalwood brings up the rear, and it's a pleasantly simple brew. In fact, the Rich Hippie perfumes don't really get all that complex or engage in any radical evolutions -- the appeal of Rich Hippie is the decision to favor natural simplicity over chemical trickery, so when the ingredient list involves bergamot, bay leaf and sandalwood, then that's what you'll be smelling, and honestly, I think Nirvana offers just about the nicest smelling bergamot I've yet experienced. It's very well done, though I can think of about thirty five other fragrances I'd rather be wearing right now than what amounts to a bottle of expensive citrus oil.
Groovy is just okay. It's got some decent pine and fir resins, juniper berry crops up again, and the lavender is much more noticeable here than it was in Krishna, but I'm not crazy about it. All the notes smell fully present, balanced and rounded, and out of the four samples I've tested, not a one of them screeched or sliced at their opening, and the woody drydowns are excellent, but I do have to admit that these just aren't my thing. At all.
The Hippie moniker is very apt for this line, as there's a bit of a wild child quality out of the bottle, like a head of big frizzy hair and a loud personality that won't be tamed. I can easily see this line as a choice for rock stars, trustafarians and dopey celebrities, but I think there would be a riot if you tried to wear it to the office. The ingredients are great and the execution is simple, but they're too sixties, too bohemian love child and too much.
And then there's the natural essences longevity problem, which, when combined with the line's high prices, really doesn't make a lot of sense. Luca Turin said it best in Perfumes: The Guide -- "Most perfumers believe a judicious mixture of natural and synthetic is best; very few perfumers we've met believe in 100 percent synthetic fragrance. But even assuming you find fragrances that are 100 percent natural, there is no guarantee that they will be healthier for you (many natural compounds are toxic), nonallergenic (the list of plant allergens is long), or even good for the environment (natural Mysore sandalwood is heavily endangered due to its use in fragrance)."
Natural Perfumer Ayala Sender also has a bit of a problem with what she considers the misinformation at the base of many of Rich Hippie's claims: "There are plenty of things that deeply irritate me when I read the website that have nothing to do with my personal taste (or with my lack of fondness of the brand's paradoxical name): the perfume-history inaccuracies, the scare tactics, and last but not least - the inconsistency in regards to the quality or grade of the materials used (i.e. what is organic)."
But if you're the kind of flower-power child that can travel the world by private jet while delivering irony-free lectures about the dangers of global warming, then the price/longevity issue is obviously no obstacle and Rich Hippie might just be perfect for you. Have at it.
If I'm going to spend a wad of cash on a perfume, though, it's gonna have Bolt of Lightning in its name . . .
Did Geopolitics Make Chanel Blink?:
"This year Chanel had planned to take the line of luxury fashion items to Moscow but today it announced that due to problems securing a venue in the Russian capital it would now take place in Paris . . . Chanel have disputed that the change is related to recent political events in Georgia claiming that the decision had been made previous to that."
Since when has a major luxury house ever had problems in securing a venue? If Fendi could talk the Chinese into allowing them to use the Great Wall as a catwalk, then Chanel's protestations ring a little hollow. If Russia resumes its Cold War era posturing, what does that mean for the expansion plans of Western designers? A video clip of the Fendi in China show below:
Former Chloe Designer Takes Charge at Celine:
"LVMH today confirmed to Women's Wear Daily that Phoebe Philo will be heading to Celine as the label's new Creative Director . . . Philo was Stella McCartney's number two at Chloe before taking over in 2001, when Stella left to set up her own label with the Gucci group."
Philo left Chloe two years ago, and the label has floundered since her departure, which says a lot about how instrumental Philo was in the success of Chloe (there's been speculation that Philo was the greater creative drive behind Chloe than Stella McCartney ever was, with the tepid response to Stella's eponymous label serving to support this line of chatter).
Jil Sander Label Trades Hands, Gets a Cash Injection:
"Japanese apparel maker Onward Holdings Co. yesterday agreed to buy Jil Sander from Change Capital for 167 million euros ($244 million). That's more than triple the 50 million euros the London-based buyout firm paid Prada Holding NV for the company in 2006 . . . Onward (Holdings) will support Asian expansion and capitalize on Japanese affinity for the brand's accessories . . . Jil Sander's X-Large Patent Tote retails for $1,445 on the Web site of U.S. luxury department store Barneys." Jil Sander's Fall/Winter 2008/2009 collection below:
Not Everyone Thinks Tom Ford is the Greatest Thing Since Reruns:
"Yves Saint Laurent head designer Stefano Pilati said Ford was nothing compared to the late great Yves Saint Laurent himself . . . 'Tom had a very precise vision of the company that didn't challenge women. Tom is talented but not gifted.'" Reowr! Gay designer claws are the meanest . . . expect Ford to hit back soon.
My Clothes Can Wash Themselves:
"Germany-based lifestyle brand Daniel Hechter has launched a 'lotus flower' coat that causes water and dirt to drip off from a specially structured fabric surface. The dirt repellent coating uses the 'lotus effect,' whereby water beads and runs off the surface of lotus leaves as a result of wax pyramids which coat them . . . The key ingredient is a product marketed by Nano-Tex as 'Nano-Tex Resists Spills' - a treatment that repels liquids ranging from coffee and red wine to chocolate syrup and salad dressings while allowing the fabric to breathe."
There's also a new Shower Clean suit made from wool and polyester fibers. You can wash it in the shower, hang it to dry and it's ready to go, with no need for dry-cleaning or ironing -- "the final finish applied to the suits contains L-cysteine, an amino acid that occurs naturally in hair, nails and skin." That sounds pretty awesome, no?
I knew the trend for slapping the "noir" label on fragrances had officially jumped the shark when Tom Ford released his Noir de Noir ("Why use it once when twice is twice as nice!"), and I'm just waiting for the same thing to happen with the "bois" descriptor.
Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the resurgence of deep, woodsy scents, but it's starting to get a little difficult to keep them separate in my head with all the "here a bois, there a bois, everywhere a bois bois" routine. Just cuz you're a niche company doesn't mean you can't put a little effort into the christening ceremony, you know what I mean? 'Nuff said.
In that vein of thought, I have several bois la la fragrances to talk about today, instigated by the mention of Parfumerie Generale Bois Blond in the comments to yesterday's post.
Dior Bois d'Argent: created by Annick Menardo, the mind behind Bulgari Black and Le Labo Patchouli 24, Bois d'Argent is one of a trio of masculine scents released in 2004 by Dior under the artistic guidance of then menswear designer Hedi Slimane (he's since been given the boot as only starving anorexics or severe bulimics were capable of fitting into his cutting edge silhouettes, which meant that while Dior Homme was awash in critical acclaim, the division hemorrhaged cash by the bucketload).
Bois d'Argent is described as a woody fragrance, with incense, myrrh, honey and leather aromas. Strangely enough, the somewhat spicy brew smells a lot like sweet ginger beer in its initial phase, which is pleasant enough and undoubtedly drives sales within a young demographic, but the honey-and-sugar sweetened character never fully recedes.
There are some nice wood and incense qualities to Bois d'Argent, yet its overall effect seems geared more toward priming the credit-card pump for the high-school/college crowd than satisfying a serious fan of woodsy scents. That said, it does get points for bringing a sense of youth to the table.
Odori Cuoio: yeah I know, Cuoio means leather, but this stuff is dryer than dry and reminds me of the smell of a cord of chopped hardwood stacked in the garage and covered in an ancient tarp. Yes, there are flowers, and yes, there is citrus, but the presence of both is fleeting and minimal, added to provide just enough softness to prevent you from getting splinters when you grab the bottle.
Patchouli, vetiver, birch tar and dusty spices make this a leather and dry woods scent that should appeal to consumers who are very strict about their boundaries. Nice and warm, too, with a touch of amber in its base. A solid piece of work.
Odori is an offshoot of Italian niche perfume line Bois 1920.
L'Artisan Bois Farine: Bois Farine was released in 2003, created by Jean Claude Ellena, one of my favorite perfumers. Ellena is known for his willingness to experiment and take risks (he's now head perfumer for the house of Hermes), and Bois Farine lives up to his reputation in that regard.
Probably one of the nuttiest perfumes I've ever smelled (and I don't mean crazy, I mean "nutty" as in cashews), it has a rich, foody texture brightened by Iris flower and underscored by the green spice of fennel seed. With the addition of cedarwood, sandalwood and incense resins, Bois Farine is an iron pan of buttery nut-bread baking in a wood-fired oven.
Ellena insists that Bois Farine is the result of his encounter with the white tree in the Reunion Islands, a tree whose flowers smell like . . . flour. Absolutely weird, utterly unique and unexpectedly cool, but don't be surprised if people around you start questioning about where that peanut butter smell is coming from.
Parfumerie Generale Bois Blond: a woodsy perfume with a cheerful disposition. Odori Cuoio may take its wood and leather assignment very seriously, but Parfumerie Generale appers to be having a lot more fun with its haystack in the old barn routine.
Bois Blond smells to me like the space Vero Profumo's Onda tried to inhabit but didn't quite reach. Whereas Onda steers itself toward vetiver and soapy musk, Bois Blond takes its sunshine and grassy hay and gang-piles it with cedarwood, tobacco and amber to result in a much warmer appeal. Friendly and outdoorsy and very easy to wear -- another one of perfumer Pierre Guillaume's heady and generous scents.
If I had to rank the four, I'd say: #1) Odori Cuoio for its stern good looks and vintage motorcycle jacket; #2) Parfumerie Generale Bois Blond because it's just so darn gregarious and comfortable; #3) L'Artisan Bois Farine -- I wouldn't ordinarily leave the house smelling like roasted nuts and baked bread, but it's certainly not a bad proposition; and #4) Dior Bois d'Argent, whose root-beer and incense brew I might have liked better if I were, maybe, twenty years younger.
All this talk of nuts, bread and root-beer has made me hungry . . .
Now that we're leaving the hottest months of the year behind (at least in the Northern Hemisphere), I thought it might be a good idea to take a look at some of the richer, spicier offerings from the niche-isphere, since that's what most fragrance fans will be reaching for when the days get shorter and the temperature begins to drop.
I've previously noted a number of spicy and/or incense numbers that beg for cold rainy days, a good book and a comfortable chair (for example: Indult Isvaraya, Les Nereides Imperial Opoponax, Etat Libre d'Orange Charogne, LesNez Let Me Play the Lion, Chanel Sycamore), but the spicy oriental & incense fields are crowded with players, so let's get up close and personal with a few more selections:
Parfumerie Generale Haramens: probably one of the warmer, sweeter, spicier numbers I've had the pleasure to meet. One website describes it as "a night in the harem where Oriental pastries and incense fill the sanctuary while the women wait for the Sultan" and while the prose is overdone (oriental pastries? what does that even mean?), the vibe is pretty spot-on. This is a nearly edible vanilla confection with aoud wood frosting and incense sprinkles, finishing up on a dark, smoky note. If rich, warm and sweet is your thing, you should find much to like about Haramens.
Strangely enough, the gang over at Perfume Posse went on a rampage about Haramens in one of their comment sections, describing it as disgusting, worse than sewage, shocking, and like hampster piddle on cedar shavings. Either we received samples from different batches, or I'm just way more vanilla sensitive than the average bear, because (to me) this stuff is like a cadre of vanilla cupcakes baking in the oven as your hippie roommate burns sticks of frankincense in the next room.
Haramens is part of the Parfumerie Generale Private Collection, which means it's difficult to find for sale from anyone other than Parfumerie Generale itself. Click on this link to read a brief interview with Pierre Guillaume, the perfumer for Parfumerie Generale. He mentions that he appreciates "heady and generous scents," and Haramens is nothing if not heady and generous.
Il Profumo Encens Epice: Encens Epice is a spicy incense for consumers who like their smoky fragrances with a little less added sugar. Encens Epice includes greener elements like patchouli leaf and pine tree sap that keep this otherwise woodsy/incense mix from tilting overboard. The tobacco addition is nice, as well, pushing Encens Epice into dry woods territory by furthering its parched aim, but as far as incense perfumes go, Armani Prive Bois d'Encens does this kind of uber-dry, meditative composition far better.
Ormonde Jayne Ta'if: a mildly spicy rose with its green stem and leaves still attached. Ormonde Jayne can always be counted on to class up the joint, and Ta'if (meaning "oasis in a desert") is a soft oriental, a fresh and subdued take on the Middle East attar.
The rose is sweetened with a hint of dates, while saffron, jasmin and orange flower play a type of Greek Chorus in the background, commenting on what's happening while forecasting what's to come. The whole thing wraps up with a light amber that exhibits fine manners and good breeding. A respectable fragrance for polite company -- needless to say, I'd have absolutely zero occasion for wearing it.
M. Micallef Night Aoud: Night Aoud is Haramens' quieter, gentler sister -- a woody oriental rather than a flat-out oriental oriental (with all the different categories of oriental, I think "oriental oriental" might just be necessary to distinguish the original from its cousins).
The opening is high and bright, but the incense smoke and aoud wood quickly take center stage and don't relinquish the spotlight for the rest of the performance. It smells like it's got some patchouli thrown into the mix, as well, because, you know, what's a post 1990's oriental without a dose of patchouli?
If a fragrance like Haramens is too loud, too sweet and just too much for your taste, but you're still looking for something that has a bit of that sweet and smoky touch, M. Micallef Night Aoud would be a viable choice.
Anyone else got any rich, spicy stuff they'd like to reccomend? I'm all ears!
Speaking of all ears, The Brand New Heavies with "Midnight at the Oasis" -- it serves to underscore our theme for the day. I was going to link to an original Maria Muldaur version, but then I thought, "Why torture everyone so?":
UPDATE:
Regarding the natural perfumes posting from the other day, I tested out another of Ayala Moriel's scents, Epice Suavage, and it's genuinely terrific but lasts about a nano-second before it vanishes from the skin.
Okay, a nano-second is an exaggeration, but not by much.
Seriously, that is the one thing I do. not. like. about natural perfumery. Fine, yes, use as much natural materials as possible, I'm all for it, especially since natural essences have a complexity that's often missing in synthetic bases, but at least consider the benefits of compromise -- adding a synthetic fixative would provide some longevity for your customers without harming the formula, IMHO.
The extreme lack of longevity is a deal breaker for me, no matter how much I love the fragrance itself, which is a pity, as Moriel's Schizm and Epice Sauvage are excellent pieces of work . . .
Luca Turin writes in Perfumes: The Guide, "(T)here are really very few perfumes you could honestly call all-natural. Of those, we have yet to find any that belong aesthetically in the top tier" while Chandler Burr, in his review of Guaiac by Red Flower, states: "Perfume as an art form (and as a commercial concern) is built on synthetic raw materials . . . Guaiac is a four-star perfume for one simple reason: Because it lacks synthetics, which often lend substantivity (the length of time the perfume lasts on skin), Guaiac is fleeting. This is the price you pay for an all-natural perfume."
So two of the top perfume critics in the world say that choosing to go the natural perfumery route limits the palette, narrows the window for aesthetic achievement and greatly reduces the longevity of any composition. So why do it? Because not every consumer wants a mass-market, chemical laden bottle of spray, and where there's demand, you can bet that supply will be sure to follow.
Today's blog post looks at four natural perfumers who have recently arrived on the scene as the answer to the Where Can I Buy A Natural, Ecologically Aware Perfume question: Russell Newell with Social Creatures in the UK, Claude Andre Hebert out of Montreal, Canada, Yael Alkalay with Red Flower in New York, and Ayala Sender with Ayala Moriel Parfums in Vancouver, BC.
Though the Claude Andre Hebert site is entirely in French, I did find mention from other sources that Hebert works in the line of naturals as a way of keeping connected to the locales his scents are meant to evoke: "Not only does each of the twelve scents represent a continent, but the ingredients come directly from that piece of land . . . Hebert is supporting sustainability through 100% natural ingredients, corn-sourced alcohol and reusable bottles."
A few weeks ago, I purchased a bottle of Hebert's eponymous scent. It's a complex and spicy-sweet fragrance with good staying power, the container comes with a glass stopper rather than spray nozzle, and the bottle is label-free, so it actually can be re-used with very little difficulty. Hebert's interest in using natural essences appears to spring from a desire to support the local economies of the various regions for which he's named his perfumes. Fragrances can be ordered by calling Mr. Hebert at his shop or emailing him through his website.
I previously reviewed Rebel Ambush by Social Creatures, a small family-run fragrance company out of the UK. Their website states that: "SocialCreatures products use a very high percentage of natural components (typically 95-99%) some of which are high value, and hard to find . . . Social Creatures (does) use a small amount of synthetics in our products. These are usually those that would have been traditionally produced from animals. These include musks from deer and beaver. Other instances are where the plant source is endangered or prohibitively expensive."
Bottles and boxes are handmade in England, and the natural ingredients are sourced, collected, blended and matured in small batches (about 100 bottles to the batch) to ensure quality and consistency. Social Creatures fragrances are fairly expensive in comparison to mainstream productions, but the creation of the perfume and its packaging is labor intensive, distinctive and high quality. A bottle of Rebel Ambush is on its way from the UK, and I hope to have photos of the handmade bottle and packaging to post soon. Fragrances can be ordered directly through the Social Creatures website.
Red Flower Organic Perfumes lives by the motto: "Source sustainably, produce locally." Founder Yael Alkalay creates a very Zen motif with her brand and sticks with it (sometimes to the point of irritation, as a casual surf through her website will attest), but Red Flower's Guaiac perfume is apparently good enough to impress even the synthetic aromachemical cheerleaders, and that's enough to make me sit up and take notice. The website states that: "the scents contain only essential oils, the bottles are made from biodegradable glass, and the boxes were manufactured at a wind-powered plant and printed with soy inks." How many ecological trends can one human being reasonably cover? All of them, apparently.
I have the Guaiac on order and will write about it as soon as I get it in my hot little hands. Perfumes can be ordered through the Red Flower site, or from Amazon and other online retailers.
Yesterday, I received my sample package from Ayala Moriel Parfums out of Vancouver, BC. Ten tiny vials of all-natural fragrances. I wasn't quite certain what to expect, but I'd heard good things about Ayala Sender's work from various members on the POL forum, and as I'm interested in what separates the natural perfumers from the synthetic perfumers, I thought I'd give her line a try.
Ayala Moriel fragrances are handmade in small batches from pure and natural sources, with minimal animal products (beeswax, honey, beach harvested ambergris) and as much locally and organically grown and harvested ingredients as possible. I tested her Schizm fragrance today, and it's just about as perfect a masculine as I could have wished for and had given up hope of finding -- a deep, mossy musk that somehow manages to include some truly beautiful florals without getting even remotely Fracas about it.
Like the majority of natural perfumes, it's on the quiet side and needs to be reapplied if you're expecting your love affair with it to last all day. Ayala Moriel perfumes and samples can be purchased directly through the Ayala Moriel website.
UPDATE:
Rich Hippie is another company that produces organic, naturally sourced fragrances. Their website claims that "Rich Hippie perfume is made using the traditional methods employed by perfumers before World War II and the advent of the chemical industry. Prior to World War II, all fine perfume was 100% natural and chemical free. Perfume was made by combining extracts from flowers and plants that were almost always farmed organically or wildcrafted with 100% natural "spirits of wine" or wine alcohol distilled from grapes grown in the great wine regions of France."
I haven't heard much about Rich Hippie, but I like that the alcohol they use in their base is derived from organic grapes rather than petroleum. I ordered a few fragrance samples so that I can see how they fare against the other four natural perfumers discussed above.
Rich Hippie fragrances and samples can be purchased through their website.
UPDATE 2:
A reader in the comments to this post pointed me in the direction of Liz Zorn. Her Underworld sounds like it could be a very nice Vetiver indeed: "A dark earthy pairing of vetiver and balsams, with a touch of Jasmine and Rose in the heart, set against a smoky leathery base. PROFILE: Green, Balsamic, Earthy, Leather" -- sheesh. What's not to like?
I reviewed Clive Christian X for Men in a previous post (I liked it very much), so here are some photos of the bottle and box -- as with all the photos I post of perfume boxes and bottles, clicking on the photos will take you to my Flickr page where you can see larger versions:
Social Creatures Rebel Ambush: with a name like Rebel Ambush, I might be forgiven for expecting something fiery and take no prisoners, but even with three full sprays to the back of my hand, Social Creatures Rebel Ambush is a rather mild and laid back woodsy scent with some tobacco leaf and just a hint of vanilla.
With a backstory that states that the fragrance is dedicated to the Maroons, a rebel group of several West African tribes who escaped their captors on arrival in Jamaica, I was hoping for some sweat and drama, but the ingredient list includes lavender, tobacco, vanilla, sandalwood, champaca, sweet orange and cardamom -- fairly drama free.
The champaca and cardamom dominate the introduction before it morphs into the exceedingly dry, dusty scent of a lightly sweetened tobacco, and it's not at all bad, but I can't really gather any enthusiasm for it, either. I like its use of the tobacco element, the true smell of light wood burning, and that the incorporation of vanilla is highly restrained, but the moment I take my hand away from my face, I forget all about it.
UPDATE to Rebel Ambush review:
I received an email from the creator of Social Fragrances. He stated that Rebel Ambush has a target consumer audience of 30+ males who aren't already big fragrance wearers, and that "All Social Creatures fragrances are 98-99% natural, so they tend to live quite close to the skin." Both pieces of information help explain what I had originally considered an overly-mellow approach to a woodsy/tobacco scent.
Claude André Hébert Africa: following in the footsteps of Rebel Ambush, we have Canadian Claude André Hébert's take on the continent of Africa. Less dry woods and tobacco, and more cardomom and bitter herbs than you can shake a stick at, Africa is a bolder attempt at playing the dusty spice game than Rebel Ambush.
The website offers a vague ingredient description of African vanilla, ochre, incense and dry herb bouquet (the full knowledge of what comprises that bouquet is apparently beyond our pay grade). The herbal, almost musty tone to the drydown of Africa resembles the smell of sun-baked earth, oiled canvas and and gunpowder. The ochre adds just the right amount of dust, and the vanilla's late appearance is thankfully low key.
Claude Andre Hebert is another perfumer working with an increasingly natural list of ingredients -- I previously reviewed other fragrances of his here. Both Rebel Ambush and Africa are categorized as masculine fragrances, but can easily be worn by women who like earthy, woodsy perfumes (Africa is earthy, Rebel Ambush is woodsy; I think female consumers might actually groove on the quiet tread of Rebel Ambush).
Theo Fennell Scent: generic spicy oriental, with a lack of emphasis on the spice. Five minutes after spritzing it on, it was barely detectable. It sells for quite the hefty price on the Theo Fennell website, but you're paying for the bottle.
Allegedly stuffed with thirteen different spices, flowers and resins, the fragrance smells synthetic, muddled and so drearily been-there, done-that that I could barely stay awake to type a review of it. There are so many sophisticated and imaginative feminine orientals out there that it would be a shame for anyone to choose to support the continued existence of this perfume over, say, Bond No. 9's Chinatown.
biehl parfumkunstwerke MB02: unfortunately, MB02 doesn't hold up well under scrutiny, either (though it's still better than the Theo Fennell). Ordinarily, I'm a fan of Mark Buxton's work -- he created the fairly stunning MoslBuddJewChristHinDao and has developed numerous surprising concoctions for Japanese design firm Comme des Garcons, but the King Midas touch just isn't present with MB02.
Just as with Theo Fennell Scent, MB02 is supposedly chock-a-block full of flowers and incense resins, but instead comes off like a hospitalized anemic in desperate need of a blood transfusion. Buxton is famous for understatement, but there's a fine line between minimalism and laziness, and MB02 reeks of lazy.
It's too bad. biehl parfumkunstwerke is a relatively new perfume company and can't really afford any poor performers on its roster. It's not like they have the reputation of a groundbreaker like Chanel No. 5 that they can sit back and coast on for decades.
I was all set to mow through a pile of samples today, when what should show up at my door but my order of Lalique Encre Noire.
First off, this thing is heavy -- it's two ounces of eau de parfum in what feels like a five pound box . . . and the glossy box is, of course, ridiculously nice, as is the inky black crystal bottle. I mean, it's not like I would have expected anything less from Lalique, but it certainly does amp up the expectations for the juice itself.
And the juice doesn't disappoint. It's an earthy vetiver, utilizing both Bourbon and Haitian grasses for added depth, then mixing them up with cypress and cashmere woods, plus some deep, rich musk. There's no honey or orange blossoms, vanilla or tonka beans, and the fragrance is fairly straight-forward about its intentions right out of the bottle -- yet for an ingredient list so full of dry woods and earthy roots, Encre Noire speaks softly and holds itself close to the skin, qualities I admire in a scent.
Nothing worse than wearing a foghorn.
Below are photos of the bottle. The bottle is said to have been inspired by a 1913 Lalique ink pot (the fragrance itself has a dark, inky quality to its overall character), and is handblown black crystal. The cap is made out of Wenge, a dense, coarsely grained African hardwood, and it fits neatly over a ground glass stopper.
***BTW: I ordered the Encre Noire from Aedes de Venustas in New York. I didn't ask for any samples but they included a generous helping of them anyway, which I thought was very nice of them.
Coty Chypre: Originally created in 1917, Coty Chypre was so successful that "chypre" became the generic label for a whole classification of perfumes; specifically, fragrances based on a blend of citrus (bergamot, mainly), ciste-labdanum (or other amber resins) and oak moss (though vetiver and/or patchouli are starting to replace the use of oakmoss).
Coty Chypre is dark, earthy, potent and without a pretty flower or juicy fruit in sight. It's difficult to imagine a contemporary manufacturer even thinking of marketing a fragrance like this for women today; in fact, it's more virile and kick-ass than the majority of masculine fragrances now on the market. Those 1920's females must have been some tough broads, and our contemporary culture suffers from their absence.
Guerlain Jicky: a classic dating back to 1889. Jicky is instantly recognizable, not so much because you know you're smelling Jicky, but because it's had such a profound influence on nearly everything that's come after it -- which has the unfortunate effect of making Jicky seem trite or cliched. "Oh, vanilla," you think, as it wafts past you in the wake of yet another one of its wearers. "How boring."
But Jicky caused a sensation upon its original release as it was one of the first fragrances to combine natural and synthetic ingredients, extending its lifespan immeasurably; though by now, Jicky's ingredient list is likely fast approaching the 100% synthetic mark due to animal rights activists (bye bye, animal musks!) and government safety regulations.
Jicky fanatics (and they do exist) insist on the complexity of its composition and the mastery of its blending, but I mostly smell a heavy, sweet vanilla for most of its lifespan. Vanilla is my kryptonite when it comes to perfumes, and Jicky includes far more of it than I can rightly stand. If I were thrust into a burning building and forced to choose between saving the very last bottle of Coty Chypre in existence or the very last bottle of Jicky in existence, poor Jicky would perish in the flames.
I'll take savory over sweet any day (admittedly, though, Jicky boasts a smooth and appealingly woodsy drydown).
A video clip below of the history of the house of Guerlain:
Rochas Femme: created in 1944 and reformulated/reintroduced in 1989, Rochas Femme is a plummy, floral (roses and jasmin) perfume that starts off heavy on the cumin (cumin is a critical ingredient in chili powder, and plays a major role in Cuban, Mexican, Thai, Vietnamese, Turkish, Moroccan, Afghan and Indian cuisines), then later moves into a neighborhood warm with sandalwood and earthy with oakmoss.
An overheated reviewer at NowSmellThis exclaims that "Femme smells voluptuous and intensely personal" in a nudge-nudge, wink-wink, I See Soiled Sheets kind of way, but at the end of the day, Rochas Femme is just a well-crafted floral chypre, and if you smell it and instantly free-associate with rolls in the hay, well, that's really between you and your Freudian therapist, thanks.
Femme has its earthy qualities, but it's not nearly as dark and earthy as Coty Chypre, thanks to the inclusion of the many flower and fruit notes -- though you can easily tell that Coty Chypre was a huge influence on the creation of the original Rochas Femme. The cumin in the ingredient list was apparently added in the 1989 reformulation as a concession to contemporary trends. A genuinely striking and lovely perfume.
Chanel No. 5: the original sparkling aldehyde, released in 1921 and still one of the best selling perfumes in the world.
It smells like a wheelbarrow full of white flowers, but good luck picking out any single kind or type. No. 5 offers the impression of florals without actually smelling like specific flowers, and this was allegedly its raison de etre -- to buttress the natural beauty of the wearer by highlighting its own artificiality. It also exhibits a sandalwood/vetiver base that appears curiously indifferent to all the white-hot sparkle that precedes it.
Again, this is one of those perfumes that smells like a cliche only because nearly every single subsequent perfumer has attempted to copy its success. A marvel at the time of its release, but rather less so today. To be frank, it comes across as somewhat harsh and/or strident when compared to contemporary perfumes that are making moves back to formulae with a higher concentration of natural essences.
21st century irony, meet Chanel No. 5:
Aqaba Sands of Aqaba: it's a snout full of flowers at the start, plus some green leaves and a clean, soapy element, but once the scrubbed, flowery part of the parade has passed by, the earthier coriander and cardamom make a welcome appearance and transition without a hitch into an incense/tuberose base. For as pretty and flowery as it starts off, I was pleasantly surprised with its salty, spicy finish.
Indult Isvaraya: an easy crowd pleaser (but that assumes the crowd is comprised of patchouli fans), Indult Isvaraya is a mix of primarily three ingredients: patchouli, jasmine and plum. The plum introduces a dusky fruit note at the opening that immediately catches your attention, while Patchouli emphasizes the earthy qualities of the Jasmine flower as the perfume stretches out on the skin. Fans of incense fragrances would probably like Isvaraya quite a bit, but I would think it would strike a more traditional white-floral crowd as too heavy and rich for comfort. The patchouli utilized for this formula is exceptionally smooth -- not a whiff of camphor for miles.
Agallocha Tedallal Homme: a fleeting whiff of citrus and herbs, then it's down to the nitty-gritty of genuine Arabian perfumes for men: cinnamon, clove, rose and jasmin, underscored by a warm layer of rich woods, saffron, musk and incense resins. It's a heady swirl, and you pretty much have to be a big ol' drama queen to pull this off, otherwise you're just a sack of sweet spices in a suit (it reminds me a bit of Imperial Opoponax, once the rose, clove and cinnamon take their exit). Would smell terrific on a woman -- in fact, I'd prefer to smell it on a woman.
Ajmal Aqhawan: this one got to me in a roundabout way that I was not expecting. It's sour and sharp, but blends so well into my skin that I'm beginning to doubt where it stops and I begin, or vice versa. I think what I like most about it is its willingness to forego the usual sweet spice and roses tapdance in lieu of a musky, earthier vibe. Musks are very popular in Arabian perfumes (the Prophet is said to have favored musks), and Aqhawan gets it right in that regard. As with most musks (unless you're encountering the extremely dark type), there's a bit of a soapy clean quality that emerges once the spices fall away and the musk is in full bloom. Usually, I'm against this experience, but I got a kick out of Ajmal Aqhwan's sour beginning wrapped up by a clean finish -- the opposite of what I was expecting.
Ajmal Aqhawan is my favorite of the four, but I can't for the life of me tell you how you might find any to purchase -- beyond traveling to Dubai in person, that is. I ordered my sample from The Perfumed Court, but they now appear to be sold out. Any other reference I found for it on the net turned out to be a dead end.
