Salt-Cured Angel Wings

In line with last' weeks Leather & Tobacco theme, I'm wearing the new Cuir d'Ange (angel's leather) from the Hermessence collection. This is the first perfume that is both intriguing and wearable that came out of this line since, perhaps, Vanille Galante. And in fact, it also layers quite well with it.

Cuir d'Ange is both bold and delicate, if such a thing is even possible for a leather scent. By the name of it, I'd expect something much more delicate, actually, like Chamois leather - feathery, lightweight and reminiscent of a baby's head. I'd expect more powder and musk.

Instead, Cuir d'Ange smells more like the stretched skin on a dumbek drum, or perhaps like cured angel's wings... There is more than just a tad of smokiness at the start, but there is also a sweetness lurking underneath, a touch of vanilla and also the briny element that was in Vanilla Galante (which inspired me to layer them together - and you should try it too!).

There is a hint of an aquatic element as well. Peculiar as it is, is actually works and adds an interesting dimension to the scent yet without making it unpalatable (which is almost the case for Épice Marine). If anything it bring stop mind the saltwater taffy that I fondly remember from Vanilla Galante.

Comparing to the rest of the line, it has an excellent staying power and a diffusive sillage, but not too obtrusive. It's almost as if there is a feathery lightness to it, which make it easy to wear. And it's far more intriguing than any of the scents ever been since Poivre Samarcande and Vetiver Tonka saw the light of day. I want to find out more about the story behind it.

Cold Milk

I was a couple of years late into the game trying Santal Massoïa Jean-Claude Ellena (created for the Hermèssence collection). Perhaps it was after the Iris Ukioye that I felt a little disappointed in the line. I feel that the majority of the new creations are becoming victim of their own style. As if the creator's commitment to stick to a certain genre of aesthetic statement. I feel that no matter what theme would be picked for this line, and no matter how outrageously intriguing the combination of notes may be, the result would be the same ethereal, non-descript quality of non perfume. Something quite pleasant, utterly wearable and easily so.

Like many of the scents in the collection, in the several times I wear it and try to find words to describe it - I stick my nose really close to my wrist and shake my head from side to side in search for something more. And before it has any chance to appear, the scent disappears altogether. Which is truly unfortunate in the case of Santal Massoïa. I was truly excited to discover what Jean-Claude Ellena would do with such an intriguing raw material as massoia bark: a rarity in the world of naturals, offering an extremely milky, lactonic odour reminiscent of toasted coconut and melted butter. It would have been the perfect accompaniment to sandalwood - highlighting its milky, creamy qualities, especially the Mysore kind which is practically non existent. This would have helped, I thought, to create a similar quality even in lesser varieties from, say, Australia or New Caledonia.

Instead, I get a watered-down, vaguely woody rendition with hints of peppery spice - sort of a cross between Iris Ukioye, somewhat violetty tea-like hints like Osmnathe Yunnan, and a very subtle wink towards Poivre Samarcande (but with non of the piquant originality of the latter). The sandalwoodiness of it is practically a reflection of a reflection of a clear water pool in a mirror; and the milkiness is more reminiscent of cold milk that one would gulp to wash down a very dry and neutral flavoured shortbread. Maybe if this appeared before any of the above scents did, it would seem original. But being the tenth fragrance in the collection, I desire for something more, something original and surprising. Which haven't happened since the launch of Vanille Galante, and only happened again with Épice Marine (the 11th in the series). This is very thin and linear, which is unfortunate, because neither sandalwood nor massoia are. It left me lukewarm and wanting much more.

Spice Pirate

HMS Bounty Anchor, a photo by Canon John's 7D (1,000,000+ views, Thanks) on Flickr.

Épice Marine arrived after much anticipation (it's about 4 months late) to the Hermès boutique on Burrard & Alberni in Vancouver. The name alone, suggesting a study in contrasts, promised intrigue; and ocean being one of the greatest sources of inspiration for me, I was very much looking forward to experience Jean-Claude Ellena's take on it.

The first imagery that the fragrance conjures for me is that of a spice pirate ship with an unusually scrubbed-clean deck. The distinctive character of calone gives a metallic backdrop to warm, diffusive spicy notes of cumin and cinnamon. It's as unexpected as the lime and cloves combination in coke; but unlike the beverage - there is no sugar to mediate between the two edges; and the feeling is of two separate entities - rolling in heaps of warm, powdered spice against the a sharp and cold stainless steel blade. Lemony notes of bergamot combined with Szechuan pepper come to the fore and give temporary relief from the fishy odour of calone, but not for long. Spacious hedione combined with slightly indolic jasmine notes, and accentuated by a distant breeze of seashore at low tide contribute another point of intrigue. But only long enough for me to figure out what it reminds me of...

The piracy goes deeper than that briney scene at the deck: the composition is a mirror image of Edmond Roudnitska’s first perfume for the company (and now sadly discontinued) - Eau d’Hermès. It is no secret that Jean-Claude Ellena is infatuated with this Roudnitska creation, and in Terre d’Hermès it was explicitly stated. Of course influences are fine - especially when the nose in question was the student of the great master. Besides, being an Eau d’Hermès lover, why should I care if there is a similar perfume offered by the same house?

The reason is, that there is something a bit off about this scent. It does not feel balanced, the use of calone make it smell generic and lackluster. And to me this feels almost like a mockery of the original, rather than an homage. 

Once the confusing impressions of this perfume's opening lines fade away, I'm left with a very generic marine scent that sort of has a presence just enough to distract me occasionally, but never to delight or intrigue any further. And by the time we get to the dryout, it is very faint already. The notes chosen are not the issue. It's the composition and the harmony - if only there was more room for the seaweed absolute and oakmoss to speak up, the saltiness of the dryout would have been more prominent, evocative and memorable. Seaweed absolute is an extremely difficult note to work with, but I still wish it had more presence. It would have made this truly a piece of art, rather than a conceptual, light and crowd pleasing fragrance. 

I realize this is not the style that Ellena is after with the Hermessences,  but in this particular case it feels like a missed opportunity. Épice Marine is perhaps the only perfume that's truly intriguing in this collection, telling a story that can be relatable to others besides the creator and with fascinating raw materials to paint that picture. It has all the making of an interesting perfume, except that it doesn’t work. 

Top notes: Cinnamon, Cumin, Calone, Bergamot, Szechuan Pepper
Heart notes: Hedione, Jasmine
Base notes: Seaweed Absolute, Oakmoss

Easter Picnic

Madonna Lily, originally uploaded by sugarflower.

Madonna Lily, originally uploaded by sugarflower.

Easter came early to Hermès this year with the heady Madonna Lilies that bloom from a bottle titled “Vanille Galante”.

Unlike most of the other Hermessences, which quite clearly answer to their title (except, perhaps, Osmanthe Yunnan) - the vanilla here will not fulfill the craving of the vanillophiles who patiently awaited their dessert after clearing their plate from fresh peppers and a side of lavender.

Vanille Galante burst into the air like a flower rushing to display its colours from fear of loosing the attention of butterflies. Heady ylang ylang only but supports the main theme here - the infamous Madonna Lily, a symbol of purity and the Virgin Mary. Sliced cantaloupe sprinkled with salt brings to mind a giant Easter egg decorated by calone. Whether or not there is calone in Vanille Galante I cannot tell, but I’d like to think that this molecule found its way to the perfume to complete the picture of an Easter picnic under the sky. It’s the same cantaloupe from Un Jardin Apres la Mousson, just in a lesser dosage.
And when the vanilla finally makes an appearance it is more woody than dessert like, and perhaps will bring to mind a flavoured liquor rather than vanilla-dotted crème brûlée.
There is vanilla absolute in the base alright, but overall I would not describe Vanille Galante as a vanilla scent, but as a floral or a floriental at best. The dry down reminds me of Chanel’s Allured - a contrast of computer generated florals against a backdrop of woody vanilla. But Vanille Galante does not feel as artificial, and as with most Jean-Claude Ellena’s scents, this gown has such lightness and airiness about it that it’s easy to wear if it is not exactly your style or preferred colour.

Brin de Réglisse

Purple's sea, originally uploaded by dolphin_dolphin.

Do we really need another lavender scent? Apparently, according to Jean-Claude Ellena, the house-perfumer of Hermes, the answer is yes. His latest addition to the Hermèssences line is centered around the note of lavender. "To create it, he felt he needed a little help and turned to his colleagues at an independent perfume lab in Grasse. He asked them to slice natural lavender into 50 distinct groups of molecules, sniffed them all, discarded five and reassembled it." (LA Times)

In his interview for the above mentnioned publication, Ellena said: "My lavender had a much purer, cleaner smell," he says, comparing it with the natural scent. "Then I had to find something to dress it up that would be a little unusual. I chose a touch of licorice”.

Brin de Réglisse is not necessarily a dry lavender as seems to be the consensus in most media mentioning the scent. Rather, it plays up the richness of lavender, which can be more easily found with the absolute or concrete distillation: herbaceous yet sweet, green yet smooth – Brin de Réglisse renders a velvety gourmand lavender, likened to a lavender-flavoured chocolate. The licorice note, apparent right from the start is reminiscent of tarragon, with it’s off-beat, awkwardly green sweetness, which seamlessly complements the lavender paste. It is further deepened by deep cocoa and dark coumarin sweetness with a gourmand intensity that is more vanillic than hay-like. And than, after less than two hours of wear, it practically disappears… So unfortunately, while I find the concept of Brin de Réglisse just as surprising and original as Vetiver Tonka (a vetiver that stands out among the over-populated crowd of scents of that theme), Vetiver Tonka remains my favourite Hermèssence for both its originality and lasting power.

Hermessence’s Osmanthe Yunnan

Osmanthe Yunnan is another citrusy osmanthus, much in the same vein as Ormonde Jayne’s rendition of the flower. The osmanthus note here is buried gently under myriads of sheer veils of citrus and tea. It is subtly floral and complemented by the green floral notes of freesia, which also lends it a somewhat peppery accent – an interesting counterpoint to the apricot-skin top notes of the osmanthus flower. I like the way the tea, with its acrid and peppery personality is mingled with the greenness of osmanthus. Osmanthe Yunnan is a subtle, well done scent – but whatever amount of osmanthus there is in Osmanthe Yunnan – I still find it very under-satisfying.

Notes: Yunnan Tea, Orange, Freesia, Osmanthus, Apricot, Leather.

Hermessence by the SkyTrain

This June, Vancouver has finally joined other self-respected cities that offer their local aristocracy a Hermes boutique, in which the gem of it all is, of course, is the Hermessences – Jean-Claude Ellena’s luxury line exclusive only to those select few Hermes boutiques. Like all self-respected luxury stores, this one opens late and closes early, so it took me a while to get there and make it beyond the enourmous leather bag at the window, - even though it opened about a month ago… Another thing that perhaps kept me away from the store is the strange feeling of being a trespasser into a strange and forbidden close-circle club when entering this store. The salespeople are all frozen in their ironed suits and are very quiet and inapproachable. This is a very strange and foreign feeling in a city with such an easy-going, laid back and casual manners. Luckily, in my second visit I dared asking if they had samples, and left the store with two generous bright-orange paper cases, each filled with two Hermessences. I now have samples of all but Rose Ikebana, which did not leave a good impression on me when sniffed from the blotter card – and so I have decided to try this again later (when and if I have the guts to trespass the luxury domain again LOL).

In a short article published recently in the Georgia Straight, Jean-Claude Ellena’s genius was defined not as his ability to create elusive perfumes, but rather – his so to speak rare ability to recognize and discern hundreds of different single notes. This just shows us how little most people still know about the sense of smell and particularly about perfumery. To say what the Georgia Straight reporter has said is just like saying “Picasso was a great painter not just because he was so innovative and original, but mostly because he knew how to recognize colours and discern blue from red and magenta from yellow” (I think most of us who are blessed with eyesight learned to recognize colors in kindergarten, yet there is only one Picasso); or, say “Mozart was the greatest composer of all times, but forget about his amazing melodies and surprising harmonies; what’s really amazing is that he had a perfect pitch!”. You get the idea. While perfect pitch is a great asset to a musician, it does not necessarily make a person a musician. In fact there are a lot of people who have perfect pitch yet never composed even one bar of music in their life; on the other hand – there are many of great musicians that do not have perfect pitch.

Now, back to the Hermessences line – which looks gorgeous, by the way, standing solidly next to each other looking the same except for the different hues in the crystal bottles, and enrobed with matching coloured leather cases. The line is said to be inspired by the tactile texture of textiles – velvet, silk, wool, cashmere and gauze. Although they all have a unique tactile appearance (both physically and as an olfactory metaphor) – I am not sure I will necessarily associate them with these specific fabrics.

Vetiver Tonka, my most favourite so far, is simple and interesting at once. It is one of the best Vetiver scents I tried, equally revealing the sweetness and freshness of this magnificent root. The opening reveals the green freshness of Vetiver, as it is accentuated by citrus notes – a very common maneuver in Vetiver scents, but one should not dismiss it because of that. As it dries down, it reveals the sweet earthiness of Vetiver as it is accompanied by the rich cigar-flavoured tones of tonka bean. What I love about Vetiver Tonka is its rich simplicity. It does not have that many notes or facets, does not go through any significant transformation (once the initial fresh citrusy opening subsides, it is Vetiver and Tonka all the way), yet it stays interesting all the way. Both Vetiver and tonka are very complex notes, and there is something quite magnificent about two notes so different from each other working together so well. It lasted for a very long time as well, despite the fact that this is just an Eau de Toilette.

Notes: Neroli, Bergamot, Vetiver, Roasted Hazelnuts, Dried Fruit, Cereals, Tonka Bean

Poivre Samarcande, the second most intriguing scent from this line in my opinion, marries spices with wood and musk, and the result is interesting and different – yet very classy and with a subtly bold, masculine presence. Szechuan black pepper and dry chilli pepper are not as pungent as you may expect, and lead quite naturally to the more conforming notes of cedar and musk. It all dries down to a subtle skin scent, just barely peppery, woody, slightly mossy - and musky enough to be smelled only by those who are not anosmiac to musk…

Notes: Black pepper, Chilli pepper, Oak, Cedar, Musk, Chinese Moss

Ambre Narguile is I believe one of the most popular of the line, which is not surprising. It is sweet and satisfying, yet without being cloying. If I had to pick an amber scent from all the rich, oriental ambers out there – this would be one of the candidates for sure. Amber is such a round, sweet and almost fatty note that it can be almost tiresome to be around it on its own. I remember when I was in an amber phase about five years ago, and I couldn’t get enough of amber. Well, it seems that I did get enough of it after all, it is a note that builds up and can saturate your system... It can affect the mind almost like a sedative or narcotic drug, and makes everything feel sensually slow and romantically mysterious. But as I said – I am out of this ambery phase of mine, and the only amber I really love smelling on a constant basis and don’t tire of is pure labdanum – or any amber that is based on plenty of labdanum and has some dryness to it. Ambre Narguile has some dryness to it which I find very appealing – it has almost leathery undertones, reminiscent of pipe tobacco. But still, I can’t imagine myself wearing it very often as my amber addiction was cured long ago.

Notes: Labdanum, Musk, Benzoin, Vanilla, Tonka Bean, Caramel, Roasted Sesame Seeds, Rum, Coumarine, White Orchid

Osmanthe Yunnan is quite citrusy, and being the lightest and freshest of all the Hermessences – it is the most approachable, and probably another one of the most popular scents in this line. I have searched high and low for the osmanthus note in this one, and was happy to finally find it after stripping away the many sheer veils of citrus and tea, and it was subtly floral, with just a hint of apricot and with a barely-there creaminess. It is a subtle, well done scent – but whatever amount of osmanthus there is in Osmanthe Yunnan – it is very under-satisfying.

This is not to say that I dislike Osmanthe Yunnan, however, I do find it disappointing. It’s quite surprising how a floral with such a definite character (osmanthus absolute is one of the richest and most compelling floral absolutes I ever smelled – apricoty, leathery and absolutely divine) can easily be buried in other notes – especially when they are all so fleeting, light and transparent in nature. What I get from Osmanthe Yunnan is a reminiscence of other wonderfully refreshing, citrusy-watery creation by Ellena – namely Bvlgari Eau Parfumee Au The Vert, and Un Jardin sur le Nil.

Notes: Yunan Tea, Orange, Freesia, Osmanthus, Apricot, Leather.

Rose Ikebana is the only scent that I haven’t tried on my skin yet – I thought it would be too fruity and green on me.

The official notes are: rose tea, infusion of petals, peony, magnolia, pink peppercorn, zest of grapefruit, rhubarb and vanilla honey.