Caron Infini parfum and By Kilian Cruel Intentions

I'm presently reading Celia Lyttelton's The Scent Trail, a book that details the author's commission of a custom perfume from London perfumer Anastasia Brozler (the former head of perfume marketing in Europe for L'Oreál and Estée Lauder), and the subsequent globe-trotting exploration of each of the individual essences that went into that perfume -- what they are, where they came from and how they're harvested, produced or manufactured.

Early on in the book, Ms. Lyttelton notes that Caron's Infini perfume (first crafted in 1912 by Ernest Daltroff and then reformulated in 1970 by Gerard Lefort) took fifteen years to originally complete, and I thought to myself, "Wow! Fifteen years? That must be some perfume." My second thought was, "I have a sample of Infini in my sample box, waiting to be tested!"

I also wanted to test out something from By Kilian, as I've heard much about the line, but have not yet experienced one of their perfumes.

So off we go.

CARON INFINI PARFUM: Apparently, the parfum and EDT versions of Infini are radically different from each other, so for clarity's sake, I'm reviewing the parfum version.

When I first read that Infini was classified as a floral aldehyde, I was all set to don the gas mask and employ the industrial strength solvent to remove all traces from my skin after I took my first whiff, but what I initially experienced is more like the kissing cousin to a classic chypre than any sparkling floral fragrance.

The tuberose comes out of the gate with a bang, and welded to the vetiver root in the base, creates a kind of bitter oakmoss effect, but an oakmoss wrapped in soft, powdered flowers and cushioned by a sweet layer of amber. The oakmoss illusion diminishes after an hour or two, clearing space for the powdered florals to turn it up a notch or two and house party across the forest green floor so that the whole concoction tilts toward the more feminine side of the chart. This is where I finally understand the floral aldehyde classification.

Yet despite the dance of the sparkling florals, Infini manages to keeps its grip on that green element throughout its mid-phase, even introducing a white musk in its base that offers up a faint bit of soapy freshness, but when the polished sandalwood hijacks the DJ booth, that fresh soap scent returns meekly to its wallflower designation.

From there on out, it's mostly an arid sandalwood number: woodsy, unobtrusively musky and not at all sweet or floral -- a homestretch I can live with (and very easily).

Pink Manahattan writes that, "Overall, I find it has a pure, crystalline beauty characterized by a clean (somewhat soapy), green opening and a bold, dry woods finish . . . the heart sings its sweet song without going overboard ... adding a natural sensuality to an otherwise austere classical form. Infini comes across as a cool and sophisticated, elegant scent more than a warm and sensual one."

From what I've gathered elsewhere on the Net, Infini appears to be very much a Love It or Hate It fragrance, yet dismissing it entirely without first appreciating the very distinct stages of development that took allegedly fifteen years to accomplish would be a disservice to both Infini and the art of perfumery.

Worth testing out for its technical wizardry alone.

BY KILIAN CRUEL INTENTIONS: Cruel Intentions is a unisex fragrance built upon a synthetic mimicry of the scent of oudh, the earthy, uber-potent resin harvested from the heart of the Aquilaria tree.

Like any typical oudh based fragrance, Cruel Intentions is somewhat sweet in its own woodsy way. It opens with a burst of sharp camphor tempered by a spoonful of cocoa before picking up speed and racing through a barrage of aromatic experiences, as if the perfumer had smoked a bowl of crack and thought what a clever joke it would be to hurtle a string of individual notes past the wearer, like separate cars on a bullet train.

Dark roses, powdered ambers, toasted vanilla, inky vetiver root, a spritz of fruit rind, tarry birch, dusty patchouli, soft incense, skin musk . . . these all flash past so quickly that I barely have time to register their existence; yet just when I think I might be getting to the point of the thing, Cruel Intentions abandons its mad juggling act altogether and collapses in a muted heap.

It's like a perfume version of The Hare and the Tortoise, with Cruel Intentions zipping and zagging in so many different directions, and so quickly, that it exhausts itself before it can reach a proper conclusion.

By Kilian's packaging and bottles are extraordinarily beautiful, yet Cruel Intentions doesn't quite measure up to its dramatic presentation or its suggestive name. It's not a bad fragrance; rather, it's a story that's told too quickly, with characters and events not nearly striking enough to make me wish they lasted any longer than the few brief moments in which sprint across my skin.

Both fragrances display medium hang-time, and their drydowns cling tightly to the body (with Cruel Intentions more clingy than Infini), but I prefer Infini for the sheer razzle-dazzle of its many-faceted evolution, even though I ordinarily prefer the wood and smoke scents in Cruel Intentions.

OFF TOPIC:

WWD has a sobering article regarding the effect of the economic slowdown on the European fashion industry: The Price of Luxury: Debt Burden Strains More European Firms

"Industry experts believe there's a risk of bankruptcy for some firms as heavy leverage cripples their operations . . . "The majority of luxury groups have solid balance sheets, with cash on their books and limited debt. However, those who have to refinance significant debt...or who do not have sufficient working capital to continue operating, could be in trouble," said a luxury goods analyst for a leading European investment bank, who requested anonymity."

The article notes that luxury houses with good cash holdings, such as Hermes, Armani and Dolce and Gabbana, are in a good position to profit from the pain of over-extended peers. Smaller design firms that face bankruptcy may well be snapped up by houses that are cash rich, leaving firms like Giorgio Armani in a position to become the next Gucci Group.