Za'atar and Sahleb

zaatar herb, originally uploaded by afuna.

The parcel that arrived from my mom today delivered more than silk scarves with shimmering coins. It brought with it the mountain air, filled with the mosque-chants of mouazines from nearby villages and the rustic perfume of za'atar. An herb grown wild mostly in Lebanon and the northern parts of Israel, with aroma reminiscent of oregano but milder and sweeter (less pungent and peppery). It can be used fresh, but is more commonly used after it has been dried - it is than kept for seasoning all year around, mixed with sesame seeds and sumac (the latter adding a salty-soud flavour).

This mixture is a staple food in the Middle East, and when mixed with olive oil is used for pita-dipping or spreading on bread, it's as popular as butter, really (only with none of the cholesterol associated with butter). It is also used to top-off Labaneh (a yoghurt cheese, which you can easily make at home yourself, by straining plain and pure yoghurt, preferably of the most sour type you can find, through a cheescloth or a coffee filter; add salt to taste and sprinkle with za'atar and drizzle some olive oil on top before serving). It can also be used to season salads - no salt will be necessary if your mixture includes sumac. The fresh sprigs can be fried lightly in olive oil and than served on fresh bread. They can also be added to salads, pasta sauces and stews.

Half of the small bag of za'atar got spilled on my kitchen floor, unfortunately; the better part was that for several moments, the kitchen smelled like a walk on the mountain behind my house in my home village, in the end of the winter when there are za'atar leaves in abundance and awaiting harvest by shepherds and other passersby.

On another (mental) note, I spent the best part of the morning in the lab replenishing jus for many perfumes that were sold out. The latter being Sahlab, a creamy-starchy orris and musk scent which I decided to wear for the rest of the day. Flavours of my homeland been an important part of my day.

White Peonies

Today I discovered that white peonies not only smell different than the pink or red ones; they are also well worth bending over and perhaps even injuring your back on the way to inhale their delicate perfume.
Trying to describe it, all I can say is that white peonies smell like lily of the valley with a hint of carnation and an even tinier hint of rose. Beautiful is an understatement. The scent was so heavenly I had to keep my nose buried in the cellophane-wrapped bouquet all the way home, ignoring the staring faces of passersby who probably wondered why there's an astronaut walking up Robson Strasse.

Arsenal Reformulated

Arsenal, my quite-realistic gin & tonic fragrance has been reformulated. I admit, this is entirely my fault. No one told me to reformulate it. I did it on my own accord. The main reason being the poor longevity of the scent, as well as the fact that it was just a tad too "realistic" and not so much of a scent of its own. I wanted it to be a little more perfumey...

It still smells very much like gin and tonic, but with the addition of a few elements that make it a little more complex: lemon leaf, orris root CO2, litsea cubeba, lime and copaiba balsam. I have also decided to use both the green and the white cognac, to add a little more depth to the base. I have insisted on using no floral notes and no vanilla (even though the latter was very, very tempting! I had to tie both of my arms to not add a touch of vanilla CO2 to the cocktail!).

The new Arsenal is just a little longer lasting citrusy-summery twist on the Eau de Cologne type (albeit more concentrated than a traditional cologne water), and smells especially delicious in the oil version (which is what got me to reformulate it in the first place). If you have ordered Arsenal earlier this year and were unhappy with its longevity, contact me and I will be happy to send you a free sample of the new version.

Mental Notes: Apple Breeze and More Sweat

I woke up this morning to a surprisingly familiar scent accompanied by the sound of lawn-mowing. It was obviously coming from the grass 4 stories below; but it had the crisp scent of green apples - just like the artificial symbol of green apples, to be precise.

The weather was muggy again, but not so sunny; I was brave enough to go out (even in the evening) with no umbrella and no jacket despite of the clouds though... Aside from a pashimna scurf, the only added accessories to cover my skin were, yet again, Azuree body lotion (ahem, yes, with sprakles), and Film Noir in solid perfume (and inside my pendant). I am again surprised at how dry it comes across on a sweaty day.

Sold Out: Perfumed Teas

My perfumed teas have been very popular this past weekend and are now nearly completely sold out: none of Tirzah is left, and I'm down to the last tin of Gaucho and the last tin of Immortelle l'Amour tea. All teas are organic and wild crafted, with no artifical flavouring. They are perfumed with the aromas of high quality dried leaves, fruit and flowers (i.e.: osmanthus blossom, vanilla beans, citrus peel, damiana leaf and so on).

I don't know when the next batch will be made available again for all three; but in the future, the tins will be lighter (with less tea blend) to make them more affordable. We have been filling them all the way up, making for a full tin of between 70-80gr of tea, which is a lot more than the standard in the market for such a small tin.

Neil Morris Vault Fragrances Now Available Online

Remember how I was drooling over Neil Morris' and Ida's collaboration, Burnt Amber?
Well, now I know where you can find it - it's up on Neil Morris' website, as well as many other of his Vault Fragrances (most of which I haven't tried yet).

This collection includes interesting concepts, such as a series of florals for men (gardenia, lilac, and rose, nevertheless), and of course the formidable Parfum d'Ida.

I don't like to make promises, but, yes, some of these will be reviewed in SmellyBlog in the foreseeable future. In the meantime - check them out for yourself!

Mental Notes: It's HOT!

I is over room temperature in Vancouver today (verrrry unusual), and we are all cooking... To top it off, I spent most of the day at the market, not the beach...
I wore my Charisma, with its refreshing spearmint and green tea notes. And served a cool Tirzah tea (which is now sold out until a new batch is made! Yay!).
I suppose the need for hydration is excellent day for increasing tea sales...

Being one of those days that calls for an extra shower in the evening, I was given the opportunity to switch my perfume once again. So this evening I am wearing Bronze Goddess lotion (the scent has already faded into a warm-skin-and-sand subtlety) as a background, and in the foreground, I've anointed my wrists and pulse points with nothing less than Film Noir in creme parfum. The creme parfum makes it smell drier, somehow.

Tomorrow I'll be back with some more substantial entries. In the meantime - share your parfum de jour or any other interesting olfactory encounters of the day. Alternatively, I'll be more than just a little curious to hear what fragrances help you cool off in a very hot and humid day.

Good night!

Of Breadth, Depth, Illusion, Reality, Chaos and Where They All Meet…

*, originally uploaded by futureancient.

A nose approaches a field of wild flowers. The air is intoxicated with the scent of myriad different species in various stages of bloom – fresh buds, flowers in full bloom, petals dying and rotting in the warm sun… You know the scent comes from the flowers, but yet if you were to go blindfolded into the field you won’t be able to tell exactly which flower is responsible to what part of the overall “wild flowers” scent. They all play like a large orchestra tuning its instrument in no particular direction or rhythm. This is reality.

Take No. 5 on the other hand, worn on a woman’s skin: it starts out certain way, and develops into different things, revealing an internal structure or hierarchy that exists all at once in one olfactory source – the perfume. Or a wine or tea for that matter, with all their different layers of top, heart and base, revealing depth in various stages of the experience. These can be likened to the orchestra already playing in perfect sync, accompanying the Mezzo-Soprano diva at any given moment.
But is there anything out there in nature, completely non man-made, that has a hierarchical olfactory existence such as perfume?

I have to confess - all the Jean-Claude Elena talk yesterday neatly got me to almost lose sleep as I was contemplating those two principles that seem to pull modern perfumery into two different directions: expansion, diffusion and breadth versus hierarchy/structure, evolution and depth. These two concepts are what Octavian Sever Coifan refers to as the principles of Musk and Amber.

I noticed that I have difficult time understanding or fully grasping certain modern perfumes. I only now noticed why: these are made to evolve differently. Although I may be able to detect one note or another in composition such as Narcisso Rodriguez, Agent Provocateur and Osmanthe Yunnan – I can’t say I perceive them as clearly as in, say, the classic Carons and Guerlains. These perfumes are fickle like the scent of an ocean breeze or a field of wild flowers. It’s almost as if their source has blurred (even though I know they are on my skin when I wear them). They are even more ephemeral the scent is to begin with. It’s hard to tell when they move from one phase to another. It’s hard to tell if the dry down is still apparent or if the perfume left the skin hours ago. They exisit in a different dimension altogether...

The classic orientals, chypres and fougeres, however, have a well-kept structure that reveals itself as you go along. They are still abstract and intangible (as fragrance always is); but it’s easier to see what’s going on at any given time. There is a flow and it’s heading forward at all times. Where as in the other genre, there is constant movement to all direction in an attempt to diffuse and disperse the molecules, almost as if attempting to hide their source.

I found it particularly fascinating that these perfumes that are more abstract and conceptual and follow the “musk” principle (i.e. Jean-Claude Elena’s) actually behave a lot more like scents do in nature; where as perfumes following the “amber” principle are in fact restricting the scents and coaxing them into pre-established forms.

It is interesting to note that the latest attempts to modernize the genre of chypre have mostly focused on rearing these compositions into the “musk” direction. I was nearly awe-struck last night when I re-applied Terre d’Hermes and noticed that what made it smell familiar to me is its resemblance to Agent Provocateur of all things!
And no, it is not just a question of vetiver, it’s the usage of synthetic musk that create that there-but-not-quite-with-you feel that I find to underline all musk-oriented fragrances. To illustrate my point, think of what happened in 31, Rue Cambon where iris and pepper were used to create the illusion of chypre, and how little it has to do with Miss Dior and how much more it has to do with scents such as Osmanthe Yunnan or Terre d’Hermes.
A nose approaches a field of wild flowers. The air is intoxicated with the scent of myriad different species in various stages of bloom – fresh buds, flowers in full bloom, petals dying and rotting in the warm sun… You know the scent comes from the flowers, but yet if you were to go blindfolded into the field you won’t be able to tell exactly which flower is responsible to what part of the overall “wild flowers” scent. They all play like a large orchestra tuning its instrument in no particular direction or rhythm. This is reality.

Take No. 5 on the other hand, worn on a woman’s skin: it starts out certain way, and develops into different things, revealing an internal structure or hierarchy that exists all at once in one olfactory source – the perfume. Or a wine or tea for that matter, with all their different layers of top, heart and base, revealing depth in various stages of the experience. These can be likened to the orchestra already playing in perfect sync, accompanying the Mezzo-Soprano diva at any given moment.
But is there anything out there in nature, completely non man-made, that has a hierarchical olfactory existence such as perfume?

I have to confess - all the Jean-Claude Elena talk yesterday neatly got me to almost lose sleep as I was contemplating those two principles that seem to pull modern perfumery into two different directions: expansion, diffusion and breadth versus hierarchy/structure, evolution and depth. These two concepts are what Octavian Sever Coifan refers to as the principles of Musk and Amber.

I noticed that I have difficult time understanding or fully grasping certain modern perfumes. I only now noticed why: these are made to evolve differently. Although I may be able to detect one note or another in composition such as Narcisso Rodriguez, Agent Provocateur and Osmanthe Yunnan – I can’t say I perceive them as clearly as in, say, the classic Carons and Guerlains. These perfumes are fickle like the scent of an ocean breeze or a field of wild flowers. It’s almost as if their source has blurred (even though I know they are on my skin when I wear them). They are even more ephemeral the scent is to begin with. It’s hard to tell when they move from one phase to another. It’s hard to tell if the dry down is still apparent or if the perfume left the skin hours ago. They exisit in a different dimension altogether...

The classic orientals, chypres and fougeres, however, have a well-kept structure that reveals itself as you go along. They are still abstract and intangible (as fragrance always is); but it’s easier to see what’s going on at any given time. There is a flow and it’s heading forward at all times. Where as in the other genre, there is constant movement to all direction in an attempt to diffuse and disperse the molecules, almost as if attempting to hide their source.

I found it particularly fascinating that these perfumes that are more abstract and conceptual and follow the “musk” principle (i.e. Jean-Claude Elena’s) actually behave a lot more like scents do in nature; where as perfumes following the “amber” principle are in fact restricting the scents and coaxing them into pre-established forms.

It is interesting to note that the latest attempts to modernize the genre of chypre have mostly focused on rearing these compositions into the “musk” direction. I was nearly awe-struck last night when I re-applied Terre d’Hermes and noticed that what made it smell familiar to me is its resemblance to Agent Provocateur of all things!
And no, it is not just a question of vetiver, it’s the usage of synthetic musk that create that there-but-not-quite-with-you feel that I find to underline all musk-oriented fragrances. To illustrate my point, think of what happened in 31, Rue Cambon where iris and pepper were used to create the illusion of chypre, and how little it has to do with Miss Dior and how much more it has to do with scents such as Osmanthe Yunnan or Terre d’Hermes.

Mental Notes: Tea, Gardens and Rituals

I spent most of the day at the lab, blending and bottling, so I was mostly making my skin available for testing while I blend. I hope to write more about the fruit of today's labour - some interesting stuff, mostly involving tea in a perfume context - teas, gardens and rituals that inspired me to try something completely new...

In the late afternoon I have decided to submit my skin to a scent and try Un Jardin Sur le Nil; only to be greatly disappointed, I'm afraid to say. Grapefruit and sharp green notes that are refreshing and intriguing only to a very certain extent, and than a nondescript floral (though quite appealing in its own way). The dryout is perhaps the most disappointing, with its very synthetic musk base that smells more mainstream than anything else from Hermes. Is the Jardins series meant to have a mainstream appeal? The recurring fruit notes certainly hint to that direction.

Of Silage, Space and Earth

If Kelly Caleche is the more available counterpoint of Rose Ikebana, Terre d'Hermès mirrors Hermessence’s Vetiver Tonka – albeit far less nutty and sweet. This of course could be a good thing if you dislike the gourmand references of Vetiver Tonka (roasted hazelnuts, dried fruit and cereal notes) I have to say it’s interesting to see the increased usage of this note in perfumery, both niche and mass-marketed. Surely there are some economical factors involved: vetiver is a cheap and renewable resource, providing a precious wood aroma that is dirt-cheap in comparison to notes from the same category. Yet to me it seems like a trend that reflects in part the movement towards healing of the earth as well as its earth dwellers, vetiver being a scent that evokes tranquility and a sense of well-being. Vetiver also helps the environment – not only by protecting lands from erosion (especially in areas prone to floods); the plant has a way of sucking toxins from the earth and purifying or filtering them, resulting in a cleaner environment.

That being said, the name of the fragrance at hand is quite appropriate: it has enough vetiver in it to deep it earthy. Terre d'Hermès has the very Elena-esque way of excuding sophistication by way of having a lot of space within it. Almost as if fearing that adding too much décor to the space will result in a lesser impression of how expensive that mansion was. Better leave it empty and maintain the wow factor… It’s hard to “read” any of Jean-Claude Elena’s recent scents without noticing the element of status flying off their “pages”. Aside from the great breath of air that each provides, status is perhaps the most dominant “note” in the composition. It’s a quality that is hard to put the finger on its exact source but you just feel is there.

Terre d'Hermès opens both citrusy and peppery; peppery perhaps in a similar way to Poivre Samarkand. The enormous amount of space between the notes makes it difficult to discern and at certain point even notice. Although it does morph slightly, it does not change its mood from one phase to the others and doesn’t really hold big surprises in the end. Vetiver emerges pretty early, once the citrus and pepper calm down a bit. It starts cool and only would warm up very little by the end there is even a glimpse of moss. But more importantly than any particular note, it can be described as being at once dry, fresh, cool and salty, which is what gives it its edge and ultimate appeal.

It feels invisible or sheer when smelled close to the skin, barely detectable. Yet the fragrance certainly creates a noticeable silage that can be detected from afar (by others, not the wearers); which is something I find strange. Perhaps I’m prejudiced, but there is something about it that, just like other scents by Elena, leaves me cold. Perhaps I am too stuck on the classical perfume structures, where the intertwining notes lead us from one chapter to the next (intriguing opening and than gradual unraveling of the components, revealing the core and than the base). While this does happen in Elena’s scents, it happens at a different pace than that which I’m familiar or feel at home in. The changes are subtle and vastly spaced, a phenomenon that I have first observed and was able to appreciate in non other than Roudnistaks’ Le Parfum de Therese

As a perfumer I may not feel at ease with Elena’s cerebral approach; and from the personal-taste aspect I may feel foreign to his uber-elegant, minimalist, abstract style (Vetiver Tonka is perhaps the only fragrance he created that I wear). However, I have to say to his credit that he does make one think. Maybe perfumes don’t need to conjure any strong emotions. Maybe they don’t need to always be directly connected to exotic locales. Maybe a perfume can just be a perfume and be nearly entirely foreign and detached from the collective consciousness, thus creating something new and enter it from a different angle.

Top notes: Grapefruit, Orange, Pepper, Pink Pepper
Heart notes: Flint, Mineral notes, Cedarwood
Base notes: Vetiver, Patchouli, Benzoin, Oakmoss

You may be interested to read other reviews of Terre d’Hermès, which were of course written when the scent was new and fresh, when I was busy ignoring it and the hype around it. I found it interesting to read the reviews now in comparison to my impressions and see how each reviewer had at least one thing in common and one thing different to say about this fragrance:
Bois de Jasmin
Now Smell This
Scentzilla

Image credits: Both are screenshots that I took from Hermes' commercial video for Terre d'Hermes. It's one of those rare instances where the commercial actually does fit the feel of the fragrance.

Mental Notes: Burnt Proteins, Anyone?

Bonfire Night, originally uploaded by adraskoy.

With summer just around the corner, the stench of barbecue is already starting to overwhelm me. As soon as it doesn't rain, some people feel the urge to fill with air with the smoke of burning charcoal and meat. There is something about burning protein that I just can't get myself to appreciate. Perhaps if I wasn't vegetarian it could have been different. Perhaps it also explains why I usually avoid the Lag BaOmer bonfires (Happy Lag BaOmer, by the way!).

Today I was wearing my 3rd mod for the ginger & amber perfume and it goes stronger than the previous ones. This one has a touch of marigold and immortelle in it, making it sunny but also with a greater depth and slightly animialistic undertone, maybe even a tad smoky.

It's strange, I love smoky notes in perfume, but in real life it makes me immediately uneasy, even if just a little. It's the smell of danger.

Tea Time on the North Shore

Marriage Freres Sakura 2000 Tea, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

On a somewhat rainy and not particularly cold afternoon, three ladies of varying ages sat to have some tea at the stuffy Mariage Frères boutique/tea house in West Vancouver (Park Royal).
Tea service included cheescake with stilton and rhubarb and strawberries, pistacchio and sour cherries, and almond and pear tart. This was accompanied by the Sakura 2000 green tea, scented with cherry blossom and rose petals.
I have to say that while I enjoyed the company
And the scent for the day is Terre d'Hermes.

Un Jardin Après la Mousson

A new kid arrived to the designer block in Vancouver (Burrard @ Alberni): Un Jardin Après la Mousson, turning the recurring Hermes garden theme into a trilogy. Three reasons lead me to try it out today:
Knowing that it’s not widely available makes me feel obligated to try it for all of those who can’t; The division in opinions as per the reviews on MUA (although there are only 4 for now) peaked my curiousity – making it look like a love-or-hate scent; And finally, the very hot weather in the last couple of days, which made it an ideal condition for a Jean-Claude Ellena scent that is said to include some “cool spices”.

I visited the Hermes boutique this afternoon, right after getting out of the swimming pool into the very hot and humid Vancouver air (a rare phenomenon, if I may add). Perfect time to try one of Ellena’s scents, which are known for their subtle silage.

Un Jardin Après la Mousson stroke me at first as yet another peppery-dry Elena scent (similar to recent creations, such as Osmanthe Yunnan, Paprika Brazil and Kelly Caleche). It seemed indistinct in that context for the first 2 seconds. And than came a surprise (well, not quite surprising because earlier reviews of the scent suggested note in that direction; yet still the effect was quite strange): this is neither watermelon nor melon, but rather – a ripe, juicy cantaloupe. Think of what it would smell like if you were just popping a fresh slice of Trident’s Watermelon Twist sugarfree gum into your mouth while spraying Omsanthe Yunnan all over yourself and you’ll understand just exactly what I’m talking about (Alternatively, try Bvlgari’s Eau Parfumee Au The Vert, if you can’t get a hold of Osmanthe Yunnan for this curious experiment).

I have to admit I'm a bit puzzled by the commitment to fruity notes throughout the "Jardin Trio" (green fig in Un Jardin de Mediterrane; green mango in un Jardin Sur le Nil; and now the ripe cantaloupe in Un Jardin Après la Mousson). Oddly enough, I found myself enjoying this cantaloupe note today, in this context. It was out of place but somehow, but it worked. Perhaps it is just the sun stroke talking, and tomorrow I will sober up (I don’t remember myself ever going gaga over any other melony scent besides Le Parfum de Therese, and the cantaloupe here is an olfactory caricature of the fruit).

The cantaloupe note does not linger for very much longer, and we move back into a vague floral and spicy territory. I’ve never smelled ginger flower before so the fact I didn’t recognize it at the heart means nothing. I can’t even say I smell any floral note at the heart. The abstract veil of cool spices is what predominates, fresh ginger and dusty pepper in particular; and whatever it is in the base that maintains it on the skin shares a something with vetiver as it is indeed cooling.

Like so many of Elena’s creations, Un Jardin Après la Mousson can be described as sparse, sheer, thin, gauze or veil-like and abstract. If you are not a fan of this style or approach you probably will not enjoy it very much. As much as I try to appreciate scents like that (and grew to be able to enjoy them for my personal use on several occasions), I find it very foreign to me and my flamboyant and dramatic Mediterranean upbringing. Something in me always searches for something deeper at the root of the scent; and in Elena’s perfumes I can’t find that, which results in me feeling like I’m hanging in mid-air like a big question mark awaiting and answer that will never come.

Top notes: Pepper, Ginger, Coriander, Cantaloupe
Heart notes: Ginger Flower
Base notes: Vetiver

The scent is available in a variety of forms (including a limited edition dry oil), in Hermes boutiques around the world.

Want to read what others think of this fragrance? Visit:
Now Smell This
Perfume Shrine
Bois de Jasmin
Scent Signals
The Scented Salamander

Gigi reviewed on Perfume Shrine

Visit Perfume Shrine to read Helg's review of my Gardenia soliflore Gigi, titled "Making Love In Gardenia Garden".

I'm thrilled that Helg has enjoyed Gigi's lighthearted, playful take on this dramatic floral and "got it" in the context of it's inspiration (the GiGi musical, from which the above quote is extracted).

8the Annual Basenotes Award Winners

Basenotes has announced today the winners in its 8th Annual Basenotes Awards, voted by Basenotes visitors worldwide.

In the perfume blog category, the gold medalist this year is the same as last year - Now Smell This. Perfume Posse won the silver medal, and Bois de Jasmin got the bronze. For the second year, SmellyBlog has been chosen as one of the top 10 perfume blogs in the 8th Annual Basenotes Award.

Here is the entire list of winners, and if you want to read in more details about the finalists and 2nd and 3rd places, visit Basenotes:

For Women

• Best Fragrance : Shalimar
• Best New Fragrance : Prada Infusion d'Iris
• Best Fragrance for Day Wear : Prada Infusion d'Iris
• Best Fragrance for Evening Wear : Black Orchid
• Best Fragrance Packaging : Angel
• Best niche, independent, artisanal or boutique fragrance : Bois Blond
• Best designer, mainstream or fine fragrance : Prada Infusion d'Iris
• Best mass-market, drugstore, budget or direct-sell fragrance : Tabu
• Best Celebrity Fragrance : M

For Men

• Best Fragrance : Terre d'Hermès
• Best New Fragrance : Narciso Rodriguez for Him
• Best Fragrance for Day Wear : Terre d'Hermès
• Best Fragrance for Evening Wear : M7
• Best Fragrance Packaging : Unforgivable
• Best niche, independent, artisanal or boutique fragrance : Green Irish Tweed
• Best designer, mainstream or fine fragrance : Terre d'Hermès
• Best mass-market, drugstore, budget or direct-sell fragrance : Old Spice
• Best Celebrity Fragrance : Unforgivable

• Best Fragrance House: Guerlain
• Best Fragrance Blog: Now Smell This

Mental Notes: Freshly Cut Grass & Mojito

sunset mojito, originally uploaded by edo40ode.

It was outrageously hot today in Vancouver (by outrageous I mean 23 celsius), which calls for light summery scents and also brings forward whatever spring flower scents there are in the air and amplifies them ten-fold.

I chose to veer away from my default refresher for a day like this (Philosykos or Le Parfum de Thérèse), and instead try something relatively new to me - Citta di Kyoto. A scent I am still on the fence about and was hoping to form a more solid opinion about.

Visiting the horselands of the city (aka Southlands) for my daughter's weekly horseback riding lesson, we were immersed in heavy scents of blooming trees, and most notably the sharp and penetrating odour of freshly cut grass.

And later tonight I will be dancing the night away in a "Mojito Night" salsa event, with live music. Who knows, I might even try some Mojito, to go with the memory of cut grass (undoubtedly the cocktail will remain unfinished so consider it up for grabs as of now).

I am still undecided about what scent to wear tonight; I'm tempted to immerse in the Philosykos I deprived myself from in the morning; or alternatively, wear something tropical (i.e.: Gigi, Azuree Body Oil or Songes).

What would you wear for a Mojito night of dancing?

Must Read: Liquid Assets

Read Liquid Assets - an article in the New York Times, about Jean-Claude Ellena's latest travels that inspire his newest scent for Hermes, Un Jardin Après la Mousson (A Garden After the Monsoon).
The article is well written (by Phoebe Eaton) and if not for that, the pictures make a fabulous eye-candy...

You may be also interested to read the review of the scent by Robin on Now Smell This.

b-Glowing Ayala Moriel's Newest Retailer

Great news!
Ayala Moriel Parfums are now available via b-glowing.com as well as on amazon.com.
7 of our gorgeous perfumes can be purchased via these two prestigious online venues:
Ayalitta
Bon Zai
Espionage
Finjan
Rebellius
Tamya
White Potion
Choose from two elegant sizes: 9ml parfum extrait flacon ($110) or 5ml perfume oil roll-on ($65).

Mental Notes: Mix and Wear

Today I've been mixing a trial version of an Epice Sauvage reformulation, so that's what I'm wearing at the moment.
To the original formula, I've added two notes I've been dying to add to Epice Sauvage for a long time: ginger and orange blossom.
I still can't tell if I like the original better or this new version; better let it sit and mature a bit before I cast any judgement.

Natural Joy, Organic Bliss

Bliss, originally uploaded by Dave Ward Photography.

After long procrastination, I have finally got my hands on some samples of Rich Hippie’s perfumes, thanks to a kind swapper via MUA. While Utopia left me only slightly uplifted from my current state (yuzu has the ability to do that to you) ; and Nirvana left me numbly bored – Wild Thing was the one to grab my attention, instantly (and no, it was not because of its steep price point). Wild Thing is as close as a natural perfume ever got to Patou’s infamous “Joy” (at its time bearing the slogan of being "the most expensive perfume in the world”). But the two have more in common than their high price. They both celebrate the luscious beauty of jasmine and rose. In Wild Thing, there is hardly anything else (a little bit of citrus at the opening, and a very subtle orris note). The rose almost gets lost in the bush of sultry, penetrating jasmine. The indole is intoxicating and beautiful. Almost outrageously so. Wild thing is a rich (pun intended) but not overpowering kind of floral and while very animalistic it is never repulsively so. Despite the fact that there is no civet at the base to my knowledge (which is what makes Joy parfum slightly “dirty”) – you get a similar vibe from the dry down of Wild Thing – it’s always jasminey and quite long lasting; though I can’t really tell what is it in the base that make it linger so long (no particular note stands out enough to be noticed, aside from the rose and the jasmine; and whatever iris there is there – it is very subtle, which makes me wonder if it is not used merely as a fixative). To the flower girl within me, Wild Thing is pure bliss and thankfully it is not in the least “hippie”.

On a completely other note, being a by-product of the hippie era myself, I can’t say I am particularly thrilled by the names or the concept of the Rich Hippie line. 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). The bottles are all labeled as “Organic Perfume”, yet in the list of notes, sometimes the same notes are listed as organic and sometimes they aren’t. My conclusion is that the alcohol is most likely organic, while maybe some of the essences could be organically grown (especially when listed that way) but many I suspect aren’t. Of course, the overall mystery around the subject contributes to the justification of the higher price point This brings a whole new issue which was brought up to me today: the definitions of “natural” and “organic” product, when referring to perfumes.

Recently, several new health-food-store distributed lines of fragrances were launched , branching out from aromatherapy into the real of “natural” or “organic” fragrances. Theoretically, it’s nice to see this happening – natural fragrances becoming more popular and being semi-mass-marketed. However, we are back to square one in terms of truth in labeling and advertising. Why? Because what makes these products “organic” is not necessarily the fragrance they are made of but the carrier. In order for a product to be certified organic, it needs to be made 95% certified organic components; and it can be labeled as “made with organic ingredients” if it uses at least 70% organic ingredients. The remaining 30% is easily open to interpretations, and could, for example – in the case of perfume – mean that the alcohol base is organic alcohol (usually grain or grape alcohol); but the remaining 30%, where the scent actually comes from, could easily be not organically grown, not to mention – it could even include synthetic molecules. Keeping in mind that the alcohol stays on the skin only for a few second, I am afraid I’m not particularly impressed! In other words – read the label and ingredient list very carefully before you fool yourself to thinking you are using an organic product.

As a flower-child’s daughter, I was brought up in an organic village, and I can tell you quite a bit about what organic farming is, and what is required for any crop to be considered organic. To put it simply, the crops must be:
Not genetically modified or engineered (aka non GMO)
Grown with no pesticides or herbicides
Grown with no chemical fertilizers
Grown within a reasonable distance from pollution sources (i.e.: other farms that use pesticides and herbicides)

In other words, the crops should be grown as pure as possible from any chemical or biological human interventions. To ensure that, most countries have their own body that certifies organic farms and companiess adhering to these standards. To be certified organic the farm must be assessed by a third party that will look at those factors and certify the produce or the products of that farm with the organization’s seal. The seal of approval can be also found on other products, such as prepared foods, cosmetics, cleaning products and body products.

On another note, I am yet to find a jasmine absolute that is certified organic. In fact, the mere act of extracting absolute from a plant is non-organic as it requires the use of synthetic solvents (only traces of which will be found in the absolute). Some even argue that absolutes are not natural (and I will discuss more of that in a future post, tomorrow). The groves of jasmine are sparse in the world and I haven’t heard of an organic one as of yet. Citrus and herbs are more easy to find organically, but the flower essences for the most part are very challenging. If you know of a source I would be happy to get that information from you …

I would be very curious to hear from anyone here who owns an original bottle from this line if there is any seal to attest to its certified organicness.

As you can see, the definition of “organic” is quite ambiguous, perhaps even more so than the definition of “natural”. If you want to further investigate here are two interesting links on the topic:

SkinCare @ Lovetoknow.com
PioneerThinking.com
HallGold.com

Mental Notes: Good Food

Cinnamon waffle@Wawee, originally uploaded by mink~.

Gourmand scents are not for everyone. Some get completely turned-0ff by the notion of smelling like desert. Apparently my fondness for food did not go unnoticed and I belong to those who have a weakness for a good gourmand scent.
Today I am wearing my beloved Immortelle l'Amour; one of those scents that I have created out of a necessity for an enveloping warmth of vanilla and maple with cinnamon and orange. Immortelle absolute and rooibos tincture add a herbaceous tea-like dimension and I am loving every moment of it. It's particularly appropriate on snuggly rainy days, or stormy ones that force people to stay indoors and embrace romance.
Perhaps this is why I spent the evening baking cookies with my daughter (peanut-butter filled chocolate cookies, if you must know!). I think Immortelle l'Amour is the first scent where I really managed to capture the scent of baked goods (cinnamon waffles), most thankfully because of the wheat absolute and cinnamon CO2.

Sweet dreams...

Or, if you are still awake, would you care to share your favourite cooking smells (as well as your fragrance for the day)?

Happy Mother's Day

Mother, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

I know this pic does not look particularly cheerful or display a motherly joy. But who says being a mother is all happy and easy, right? Life and death are intertwined, and I think nothing portrays it better than Pergolesi's "Stabat Mater" - the first classical piece I've ever sang (to be precise, it was the third alto aria, "Eja Mater"). I remember my vocal coach trying to squeeze some motherly grieving out of me, a teenager who hasn't experienced childbirth yet. She told me to think of how much I love my mother when I sing the song. I guess that's as close as it can get, assuming the third principle of Newton's physics is valid in the realm of emotion.

The two previous Mother’s Day events celebration in SmellyBlog included a post about the scent of a mother (2006) and mother nature (2007). I’ve pretty much exhausted my (already not that original) ideas for the day if trying to steer away from the retail-orientation the holiday has taken in recent years. So what’s next? What perfumes to buy mom on Mother’s Day? What perfumes do moms wear? Although I know I could come up with interesting ideas and answers I just don’t want to. So perhaps that would happen next year.

How about this for now: let’s just celebrate Mother’s Day with our children and our mothers, and enjoy the day and many more to come, year around. Mothers can always use some spoiling, and we all know how to do that, don’t we? As for me, my daughter decided we’re going out for brunch this morning, and so we did. I’m happy to find myself in a day when my little offspring can make her own decisions, even if they mean having a chocolate milkshake for breakfast.

This year, after being a mom for nearly 12 years, I am starting to finally internalize the fact that I am a mother in the sense that I am also one to leave an imprint of memories on my own daughter. I won’t know which scent she will associate me with, but one thing is certain - the word mommy would be associated with the concept of perfume, no matter which way she looks at it... And today, by the way, I am wearing a few drops of vintage Shalimar parfum extrait.

Same Lady, Change of Gown

In my recent browsing at the various perfume counters in town, I noticed something of the unusual: two limited edition scents that I have grown very fond of have made a sneaky comeback. Sneaky because they have now returned with a new name, new bottle yet the exact same fragrance as far as I can remember.

In the fragrance world, the opposite is more common: every day, an old favourite is reformulated while its visual representation and name are maintained. Observing the opposite is encouraging, especially when the two fragrances in questions are two that I have grown to enjoy and love quite enormously in the past three years.

Allow me to introduce the first lady: Opium Poésie de Chine, formerly known as Opium Fleur de Shanghai. With notes of magnolia, star anise, vanilla, mandarin and myrrh it has captured my heart three years ago when it was released, for summer 2006. I have done everything I could to make it more popular, including stocking up on it and raving about here on SmellyBlog. My efforts seem to have paid off as the scent is back now, with a new name and new packaging. The magnolia floral printed bottle with (somewhat cheesy) ivory plastic cap is now replaced with a minimalist red frosted bottle decorated with verses of poetry in Chinese characters.

















The second dame is non other than the not-exactly-a-perfume - Estee Lauder’s Bronze Goddess, formerly known to us as Azuree Body Oil. The scent remains exactly the same, the body oil formulation seems the same as well. It is also offered in a glittered body lotion. While the delightful turquoise is replaced by shades of brown and orange, there is no mention of Tom Ford’s name anywhere on the packagin whatsoever, which is somewhat a relief (if your affection for the line was thrown off by his pornographic campaign for his recently launched namesake masculine scent).

Mental Notes: Praise for Basil

Basil leaves, originally uploaded by xxxrmt.

Basil in all its glory does not necessarily involve tomatoes. I had it in an ice cream last Saturday (La Casa Gelato on Clark & Venables), a Basil & Pernot ice cream, to be precise. It was just wonderful. Even when paired with a fig-almond scoop it was still marvelous: interestingly refreshing, delicious and original without being too spicy or weird. Despite its complexity of flavour it was very elegant.
And in perfume, nothing could make me feel happier than smelling basil with jasmine and citrus, as in Le Parfum de Thérèse, and ArbitRary, the latter being the scent I spent the most of yesterday with. The sense of euphoria this combination of notes gives off could be explained by the aromatherapeutic effects of cheerful happiness that they give off - both citrus notes and basil. A beautiful smelling anti-depressant if you will...

Mamma Mia! Ayala & Gigi on Sweetspot.ca

Ayala Moriel's custom scents were also recommended yesterday by Victoria Revay on Sweetspot.ca - Canada's sweetest lifestyle guide - on Vancouver's Today's Sweet Nothings. They even showed a picture of my newest perfume Gigi!

Ayala Moriel in Shared Vision Magazine

Ayala Moriel's bespoke services (aka Signature Perfumes) are featured in the May issue of Shared Vision magazine, in the ENVision column focusing on eco-friendly gift ideas for Mother's Day. Click here to read online, or pick your copy at the newsstands.

Mental Notes: Nuts on Matcha and Lilacs

Today (or is it already yesterday?) is an exotic nutty day - I was wearing Vetiver Tonka, which had that unique sesame seed note roasting in the background.
Surprisingly, the traditional (unsweetened) matcha I had late this afternoon at Steeps Tea was nutty and smelled like white chocolate or cocoa butter.
On the way back home this evening after belly dancing I met two lilac bushes, one in full bloom with tiny flowers and one with large ones but not as fragrant or as abundant quite yet. The small one, planted in a bit pot on the patio of a restaurant on Davie street, was so fragrant it was just like perfume on a bush.
It reminded me of how strange it was to compare Diorissimo just a few days ago with the real living flowers. Side by side, they almost had nothing common. At least it wasn't all that obvious with the parfum concentration. Which goes to show that Diorissimo is a perfume, not just a lily of the valley note.

Ginger & Amber: The Third Party

zest, originally uploaded by ChrisB in SEA.

It seems to be moving in one month intervals with the development of this fragrance. And here comes the third entry for my amber and ginger fascination. Last time I was wishing for more of a dramatic dichotomy between the fuzzy amber and the zesty ginger. The 2nd mod was very close to what I wanted - turning up a little musky, surprisingly. I liked the dry out but wanted to amplify the zing of ginger.

The third mod tries to do just that, and with the addition of a third party, a new element: orange.
Wild orange, to be precise. It’s lively and zingy and mouthwatering. In addition, the candy-like sweetness of Tangerine Murcott and orange peel.

I have also decided to play up the musky qualities with the addition of ambrette seed CO2. And to increase the sweet drama of the amber with some naughtily animalic honey absolute. I have to say that so far I’m pretty happy with the direction, although it’s not finalized yet.

For the next mod, I would like to add some orange juice essence (which I run out of and need to order) and perhaps something floral as well to make it more perfumey and complex. I was thinking about gingerlily but quickly realized it’s the idea of using gingerlily (because of the name) and not the scent itself that is attracting me here. Gingerlily will be too complex and add a musty-earthy spiciness which is what I’m trying to get away from. I want the juiciness of ginger, not the rootiness of it.

Mental Notes: Just Before Bedtime

Dying freesias in a vase are not exactly fragrant; I'm wearing Covet from Sarah Jessica Parker once again (I worn it yesterday but didn't tell you as I was too busy to blog this weekend!). Gill Evans is playing in the background with his velvety big band and I am barely resisting falling asleep...
I have to say, I was not impressed with Covet when it came out but I find it fuzzily enjoyable in the last two days. It's ambery (the cocoa note?) yet fresh, and I can now sense the lavender and lemon and perhaps am even starting to become convinced that it is a fougere.
Other than that, I can think of nothing either fragrant or exciting to write home about. I'll pass the ball to you folks to comment on Covet or tell me what you have on (or under) your skin.

New Poison Rings

Visit my Etsy shop to view the new poison rings from my collection that are for sale now. There are some true beauties in here, including some that I would rather keep for myself but decided I'll let others enjoy.
Each ring will be filled to order with your choice of a solid perfume from my collection.

Happy First of May!

Lily of the Valley, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

I don't know what is it about lily of the valley that makes it smell so happy, but it does. It is a French tradition to offer lily of the valley to your loved ones on First of May (aka Labour Day) to wish them happiness. And if you received a stem with 13 bells, you are considered particularly lucky.

The little flower, convallaria majalis, has a modest appearance, reminiscent of bluebells that lost their colour. The bells point downwards in what could be considered as shyness or modesty (though I’m quite certain the flower have other reasons to behave that way).

It’s important to note that although bearing the same name, the lily of the valley (convallaria majalis) is certainly not the flower mentioned in the bible in Canticles (Song of Songs). The flower mentioned their is either wild hyacinth or some other kind of wild lily, perhaps what is called “Shoshan Tzahor” (literally translated as “white lily” in Hebrew). Lilies, as most bulb flowers, are rather rare in Israel and their beauty and rarity has served as a metaphor in the above mentioned poem. Later on, lily of the valley and other white lilies (namely the Madonna Lily) have become a symbol of purity and of the Virgin Mary in Christianity. But neither of these species can grow in Israel wild and most likely were not known or cultivated when the poem was written.

Bo Jensen’s website tells us that 2,3-Dihydrofarnesol, farnesol, citronellyl acetate, phenylacetonitrile and phenylacetaldehyde oxime are the main molecules discovered in lily of the valley headspace. 3,7-dimethyl-7-hydroxyoctanal or hydroxycitronellal were both discovered in the beginning of the century and I won’t be surprised if one or the other is used in Roudniska’s iconic lily of the valley Diorissimo and Coty’s Muguet de Bois (though they may be have both been modified to accommodate various regulations because both compounds are not particularly stable and can cause allergies, according to the same website).

The fresh flowers are so typically lily of the valley it’s amazing. I haven’t noticed as much variety between individual flowers as I find in other species (i.e.: roses). Besides the obvious “lily of the valley” smell there are also some lemony and green notes surrounding the flowers. They last in a vase for 2-3 days while retaining an impressive amount of the scent, but will never overpower the room like hyacinth or true lilies do.
If you live in the warmer parts of the world and can’t get the fragrant flowers from your florist, I suggest you find yourself a bottle of Diorissimo and scent your May Day with it. I just so happen to be wearing it as we speak.