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.

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

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.

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.

Interesting Read: Interview with Jean-Claude Ellena

Visit the LA Times to read an interesting article and an interview with perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena - about his inspiration, philosophy and work environment.

There are Signs that Green is Back

After a long, long, long period of brain-numbing fruity florals and suffocating gourmands, there are signs that indeed, green is getting back into fashion, fragrance wise.

And while this change in trends is most welcome amongst those of us who either despise fruity florals or simply are tired of cookie cutter fragrances that seem to be the imitation of an imitation of an imitation of something that seemed to be cutting edge or just fun 10 or 15 years ago; there is something a bit worrying about the way greens might be coming back.

The reason for my less than cheerful attitude to this much-anticipated change of course is two-fold:
1) the gradual extinction of certain natural essences that were utilized in classic green perfumes of yesteryear. Namely oakmoss. But naturals in general are becoming a rarity in mainstream perfumes (which makes perfect sense when thinking of the vast quantities of jus produced every year; we simly don’t have enough land on this planet to produce enough natural oils to be a substantial part of all the mass –marketed perfume launched every other day.
2) Judging by the recent green releases (mostly coming out of niche lines first, and it seems that gradually, mainstream perfumes will pick up on the hint and adapt the trend), they offer nothing new. Nothing that we haven’t smelled before (except that its coming from a different or a new brand). Two of the Chanel Les Exclusifs (28 La Pausa and Bel Respiro). The names as well as the compositions are winking quite suggestively at past successes and achievements (either olfactory or fashion), which may indicate lack of finding inspiration in the present time.

Nowadays, it is a challenge to smell a scent without prejudices: the perfume’s name, brand, packaging, colour, advertising campaign, not to mention the anticipation of a fragrance all over fragrance boards and blogs create expectations not only as to the quality of the scent but also how it actually smells. Thes factors all have an impact on what you actually smell in a new fragrance, as those expectations are difficult to block out.

With Kelly Calèche, the expectations went all the way from complete dismissal (pink jus, named after a bag), to a peaked interest once seeing the ad (now, that looks intriguing!) but I wasn’t holding my breath for it. When I passed by the Hermes boutique on Wednesday, I checked in and found it there. It was neither pink nor leathery. It was a green, dry iris with very little to remind one of leather if at all. It starts with an off-putting note that immediately reminded me of Rose Ikebana (which I’m not capable of wearing at all – the combination of berries, greens and rose is nauseating to me, and even more so ever since I overdosed on curried mango pickle in my avocado sandwich one day while wearing l’Ombre Dans l’Eau…). Thankfully, the sharp berry and green phase is short-lived, and is replaced by a fresh, citrus green accord, which quickly develops into a powdery rose and orris body notes. With a dry undercurrent (the leather?) it is not unlike No. 19. After all, pairing greens with leather is not a new idea (No. 19, Ivoire). Neither is the green perfume with orris and rose at the centre. For a moment I get a peppery dry whiff reminiscent of the tea-tinged Osmanthe Yunnan. Overall, Kelly Calèche wears like a sheer veil rather than a leather whip. It’s very well mannered, cool even, elegant in a selective and luxurious style, very much like the public image of Grace Kelly who inspired the bag which inspired the perfume’s name. Would I have been more impressed if the perfume would have been called “making soles in angel leather"? I won’t be able to say now, because it is named after a leather bag. A well made bag, but nothing that inspired emotion in me. I suppose I would have been more likely to appreciate its etheral greenness if it had a name and an image more fitting to what it actually smells like. Just like Bel Respiro and 28 La Pausa, the uninspiring name takes away from the value of the fragrance on its own.
Top notes: Grapefruit, Cassis, Pepper
Heart notes: Rose, Iris
Base notes: Leather, Cedar, Labdanum

Note that although mimosa and tuberose are listed, I can barely smell them if at all. The base is dry, cedary almost, though not quite leathery. I smell the faintest hint of labdanum there too, without the base becoming sweet by any means.

To read other reviews of Kelly Calèche, visit:
Now Smell This
The Perfume Shrine
Aromascope

* Image of green Kelly bag borrowed from: http://www.chrisabraham.com/

Bois Farine

At The Miller's, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

Another post for wheat, in celebration of the wheat harvest holiday!

In the magical book Pluie et vent sur Télumée Miracle by Simone Schwarz-Bart (sadly it was not translated to English to the best of my knowlege) Télumée mentioned in her sotry innumerable times the Breadfruit Tree, which was boiled in water or roasted on fire, and used as a staple in most meals by the natives of the French Caribbean islands.

When I heard of Bois Farine, I could not help but think of that tree, which I have never seen, smelled or touched, but just read about in a book. This is clearly not the same tree at all. But my associations are stubborn and I keep thinking of Télumée and her long, eventful life, full of little moments of happiness and plentiful of long periods of pain, sadness and loss, and her strength in living through them till her last day, embracing all the ups and downs of life. I first read the book as a teen, and ever since than I feel a lot more at peace with the idea of aging, death and the downs of life... Definitely a book to come back to every once in a while.

Jean Claude Ellena’s creation of Bois Farine for l’Artisan Parfumeur is said to be inspired by the flower of the “Flour Tree”, Ruizia Cordata, that is genuine to the Réunion islands. The tree bears red flowers with a distinct floury, starchy aroma. The perfume almost lives up to this premise, commencing with an accord of fennel and white starchy wheat flour going up your nostrils and you knead that dough or visit the local miller to pick up freshly ground flour. It also has an aftertaste of crushed raw peanuts at first – oily and subtly earthy, barely detectable aroma. However, it quickly turns into an iris perfume, slightly floral and sweet with notes of cedar and musk and slightly vanillic underpinnings, not unlike Hiris, which reminded me of certain semolina patties, and not unlike Bvlgari au The Blanc with its underlining heliotrope and white musk sweetness (also by Jean Claude Ellena).

Notes: Fennel, Flour (Farine) Tree Flower, Cedar, Guiacwood, Iris, Sandalwood, Benzoin.

Available online via:
The Perfume Shoppe
Aedes
LuckyScent

To read other reviews and different opinions of this perfume, visit these blogs:
Now Smell This
Bois de Jasmin

Image of the Flour Tree via Wikipedia.

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.