Happy Summer Solstice

Summer Solstice, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

Hope you all enjoyed the first day of summer and longest one in the year. I spent most of it chasing the sun in the Sunshine Coast and waiting for the tides to clash at Skookumchuk Rapids.
Memorable scents of the day: salty ocean air with wafts of wild roses and resinous conifers.

Wanted: Bulgarian-Rose Pickers

Apparently, the Bulgarian rose otto industry is suffering a shortage in workforce.
If rose picking and distilling is your calling, there will be many, many grateful people around the world. It has been a long time since I managed to get a hold of any Bulgarian rose otto, which is my personal favourite. This light yet full-bodied rose oil is a bliss.

Paris

I have always intended to review Paris in a larger context of a feature series about Sophia Grojsman and her (many) roses. There is perhaps no other perfumer who uses roses so often and in such a distinct manner as she does. So this is by no means going to be the last time Paris will be mentioned in SmellyBlog. Hopefully, by the time I’ll write about it next I would have actually been to the city and could draw from my own personal experience rather than that of books I’ve read and movies I’ve watched.

YSL Paris is the Paris of everybody fantasies. It’s the Paris Carrie Bradshaw hopes to fulfill a true love in before she learns how lonely can beauty be (especially when you don’t know the language and your lover is a selfish Russian painter that looks like a ballet dancer); it’s the Paris that Parisians criticized was too fluffy and pretty in the film Amelie. You will not, however, find any of the darkness and romantic idealistic poverty of Les Miserables or the conspiracies of The Black Tulip. If that’s what you are looking for, you will be better off overdosing on Rive Gauche; or many other French perfumes that I can think of but don’t have room to list here.

Paris is pink, pretty, and rosy. It’s a day without a cloud and love without quarrels. It’s too good to be true. And that’s because it is a fantasy, thought up by a Russian perfumer for the most Parisian and French couturier alive at the time. There probably isn’t any better house to have made a perfume of that name. And this is also probably the most popular from this house.




Paris has Grojsman’s signature rose-peach- vanilla -violet accord. It opens bright and clear, with sheer citrus and peach and while it is sweet it is certainly not as sweet as other perfumes from that genre (i.e.: Bvlgari, Nahema, Tresor). There is something just a little more lighthearted about it. As the brightness of rose bergamot and peach dissipate, the more powdery aspects of rose take over, backed up with violet and the seductive vanillic whispers of heliotropin. As sweet as the base may be, it still has that dry edge to it, from woody notes of cedar and sandalwood. After a couple of hours of wearing, Paris becomes smoother again, this time developing a hint of wet-petal texture, the rosy sweetness tampered with a certain coolness (perhaps the mimosa?). The last breaths of Paris are redolent of dead roses whose life preserved in a glass coffin filled with amber and musk.

Paris may be too pretty for my style and taste, but it sure can put a smile on my face.

Top notes: Bergamot, Geranium, hawthorn, Hyacinth
Heart notes: Mimosa, Rose, Violet, Lily of the valley
Base notes: Cedar, Sandal, Heliotrope, Amber

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

Ta'if

Taif Rose 01, originally uploaded by The Taif Healthy City Programme.

I first encountered Ta’if on a chilly winter day in London some three years ago, when searching for perfumeries that can be found nowhere else but in London. Ormonde Jayne’s miniature store front, furnished with polished black ebony and tangerine accents was an immediate fascination. Perhaps the fact that Linda Pilkington spoke fluent Hebrew helped too… She spent a few years in the Hebrew University studying anthropology, and so the conversation between me and my friend Yasmin was completely transparent to her ears…

In no time it was quite obvious that Ta’if was my favourite. Perhaps is was the humorous glint in Linda’s eyes when she mentioned saffron and dates... It smelled right to me on first inhalation, yet my nose was a bit tired of all the former sniffage (Penhalligon’s practically exhausted my sense of smell with their far more sharp creations just a few stores away from Ormonde Jayne), and I had to postpone my complete union with this scent until my return to the similarly chilly city of Vancouver.

I left the shop wearing Ta’if to try on one wrist (and Sampaquita on the other), and feeling happy that there is another Hebrew speaking perfumer in the world. In fact, Linda was the first perfumer I met first-to-face at that time. Perfumery is a solitary work, and even more so when you are an independent perfumer - the only board meetings you ever attend are your own, which will most likely involve clients rather than colleagues…

In the briskness of the foggy London night, there was something exalting about that cloud of roses and spice floating about me. And from than on, whenever I wear Ta’if I’m immediately reminded of that one chilly night in a bigger-than-life city, finding a perfume to be excited about and enjoying a rare moment of friendship that is usually separated with one big pond and the whole width of the largest country in the world…

Ta’if opens with saffron, dates and pink pepper, to an overall tangy-spicy composition. Than comes the dusty, desert dryness of cedar and the opulence of roses along with honeyed broom note. The base is ambery-sweet, powdery and musky, in what I would later discover to be a signature component of most Ormonde Jayne’s perfumes. This base may not be for everyone - especially if you dislike musk in any form, but on the right skin it is magnificent.

Unlike most perfumes with oriental elements, Ta’if is expansive rather than introspective. In that regard, it is reminiscent of other favourites of mine from the powdery rose genre – Tocade and Parfum Sacré.

Ta'if may be inspired by the roses of the desert city of Ta'if (see image above), but it reminds more of the illusion of softness the look of frosted roses evoke:

roos, originally uploaded by bhermans.

The official notes per an old Ormonde Jayne catalog:

Top notes: Pink Pepper, Saffron, Dates, White Peach
Heart notes: Ta’if Roses, Orange Blossom, Broom, Freesia, Lily of the Valley, Jasmine
Base notes: Amber, Tonka Bean, Musk, Vanilla Absolute

Like all the Ormonde Jayne perfumes, Ta'if is only available through Ormonde Jayne store in the Royal Arcade on Old Bond Street, and her online store.

Note: Despite its relative lightness, Ta'if must be applied with a light hand to avoid adverse reactions such as sneezing or eye-watering (I'm talking from experience here...). Sometimes too much of a good thing will not get you what you want...

Rosy Surprises

Rose Woody Clusters 30-06-2007, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

As I was enjoying a weekendly stroll in Stanley Park this Saturday, I was surprised by series of roses with completely different smells lined up on the pathway that leads from downtown to 2nd Beach, and runs parallel to the Rhododendron Garden and Lost Lagoon’s trail.

The first rose I was so familiar with I didn’t even bother to take a photo. It was single-tiered, and with a luscious, fruity rose scent, very much like the one I’ve mentioned earlier this summer.

Roses Under Fir 30-06-2007, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

The next bush, however, was like nothing I’ve either seen nor smelled before. It was a tall, thick bush, laden with cluster of single tiered white roses, and so abundant that I almost lost track of time sniffing and photographing different clusters and individual roses. It was so peculiarly different from other roses: although the scent was intense and magnificent, it was also very light. It was what I can describe as both woody and airy. A similar feel comes from Atlas cedarwood and cabreuva oils, only with the added florally of rose. It was so light it almost reminded me of a water lily…

Rose Pink Indolic 30-06-2007, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

The second bush was less abundant and the roses were larger and pink. What struck me about this one was not so much its look as the scent of the flower: this pink rose was like no other pink rose. It was so shamelessly indolic that I could swear I smelled notes of jasmine and civet in there… Certainly not “innocent as a rose”…

Roses White Open Indolic 30-06-2007, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

The next bush of white roses had tiered flowers whose scent was closer to what I would expect a white rose to smell like: the purity of a rose, perhaps with a certain peach-like qualities about it.

Rose Tiny 30-06-2007, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

Last and of least significance was another white rose bush, single tiered again, with not particular odour that I could comment on, but it was every so tiny that it was about as wide as my thumbnail!

THE Rose Bush

Luscious Rose, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

I have passed by this rose bush a million times, but perhaps it is only now, after 9 summers in the city, that I am starting to associate it with itself and with here and now – as opposed to the roses of my childhood (a rare and precious encounter, but nevertheless, it belonged only there for the longest time and seemed to have hard time moving on). These roses are just… perfect. Rosier than any other rose, with honeyed, full-bodied, wine-like presence. I’ve stopped by this rose bush so many times, ignoring the embarrassingly pitiful glances from by passers. Ignoring the laughter of those observing how difficult it is for me to move on, as my nose pulls me back into the deep velvety petals, my arms heavy with grocery bags and begging me to just move on and go straight home, but I can’t… In case you didn’t get it the first time – these roses smell perfect. Sigh…

Voluptious Rose, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

It's 100% Love!

lOve iS, originally uploaded by Mirage a.k.a ĈħoCõħŏľíç.

The most unusual perfumes are ones that have a strongly familiar scent. The sneaky, abstract nature of the human brain often mystifies the identity or the cause for the familiarity of a scent. Yet. it cannot conceal the fact that when it does that, when a new scent has a matching vibration to a significant scent from a different point in space in time – a person might suddenly move to different realm.

True, this does not happen with a flash of blue lightening a-la Quantum Leap. Rather, it happens gradually and gently, like melting through a gauze screen. First – my nose started sniffing ahead of my body, than my heart and lungs were filled with joy, my skin felt a familiar, pleasant shiver, and finally - my eyes became blurry and I sensed that I am no longer in the room (or wherever I was at the moment, it didn’t matter anymore): I suddenly found myself sitting on the mountain above my house in my home village, in a warm, sunny winter day under a bright azure skies, and surrounded by blood-red arbutus trees, striving oaks, velvety sages, Dam Hamacabbim (droplet-of-blood-shaped-blossoms of Helichrysum Sanguineum), and rockroses in full bloom.

That is what happened to me when I spritzed on some 100% Love, expecting chocolate and roses floating on water – and discovered none other than my favourite note of all times. No, it’s not rose. It’s Rockrose. Better known as Labdanum. Labdanum is simply the richest, roundest, most interesting note there is. A perfumer should not be biased, and should love all notes equally. And I do practice this when I design and create my perfumes. But I am also a woman who has her own personal preferences. It’s been well known to me for quite some time, that if I will ever need to pick only one note to wear for the rest of my life, I will choose without a moment of hesitation to grow old with Labdanum. It is many things at once, and I love it’s complexity, richness and depth: resinous, ambery, incensey, earthy, sweet, leathery, dark, sultry and reminiscent of dry blood, and despite the fact that it does NOT come from the pretty, wild-rose-like flowers, which by the way possess very little scent - but rather from the resin that covers the branches, leaves and twigs, boiled in water and than distilled into an absolute.

After a blind date with this unusual beauty (thank you, Victoria!), which was extended into three days now, I am quite in love with…100% Love.
It opens with roses and a backdrop of caramely chocolate – dark but sweet. But very quickly you will realize that neither rose nor chocolate are the real heroes of love here. The labdanum pervades the composition for hours, and since it is such a complex scent, it is perfect that way. After about 6 hours, a lovely, subtle musk note crawls out of its satin bed, with a comfortable sexy yawn, and invites you to join in. If you stay long enough Vetiver may join in as well – a very quiet, dry Vetiver, woody and almost unnoticeable.

If you expected this to be a bouquet of roses (or rather - a bottle of YSL Paris or Bvlgari pour Femme or Tresor) accompanied with a heart-shaped box of fine chocolates, you may be disappointed. This is quite an unusual Sophia Grojsman composition – though it is Grojsman in the sense that it is simple and pared down to the essential elements – while maintaining a bold, sensual and unusual statement. Despite the minimalism in notes, this is a very rich, down to earth, and I believe full of natural essences. The rose smells like rose absolute and rose otto (as opposed to a synthetic rose compound, or, if you will, damanscones). The chocolate smells like the pure cocoa absolute. And I think I already talked enough about the labdanum. The musk at the end is the only synthetic smelling note, and it makes for an interesting underlining accent for the rest of the notes. It’s a perfume – not a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates. To me, this is Sophia Grojsman at her best.

Top notes: Rose Otto
Heart notes: Rose Absolute, Cocoa absolute, Labdanum
Base notes: Labdanum, Musk, Vetiver

p.s. 100% Love is available directly from S-Perfumes via The Shaping Room.

Tocade

I first smelled Tocade twelve years ago, when it was just launched. I didn't think much of it, except that I liked the bottle, which reminded me of a pagoda.

Tocade is one of my most favourite linear scents. Despite the fact that it offers very little if any evolution, it is not in the least uninteresting. The only evolution to speak of is reminiscent of Ravel’s Bolero, only that instead of the elaborate crescendo, Tocade is like a stretched diminuendo.
Tocade starts with what can be perceived by some as a strong, soapy bergamot and rosewood accord, that is fresh and powdery at once. I enjoy the clean feel of this opening, despite its somewhat harsh sharpness. The soapy phase fades really quickly, and becomes a rather soft, powdery, fluffy rosy vanilla fragrance, with a faint amber in the distance. This accord stays quite the same for the rest of its life, as Tocade is quite a linear scent, you won't find in it much more than there is a few minutes after applying it on... But that is what makes up most of its charm and loveliness. It is in fact this concept makes Toacde an interesting perfume in its own right.
Though it has plenty of floral notes - roses, geranium and magnolia - Tocade is not quite the usual floral, and I see it more as a powdery fragrance, quite reminiscent of a soft, soapy fragrance. It is a subtle scent that I find comforting with its clean, soft and subtle sweetness.
Wearing Tocade is like cuddling in a soft flannel pyjama and bedsheets with a matching texture, right after an evening shower... I wear it most often as a bedtime scent. However, with its humouros, sexy and light-hearted chic it can easily live up to the expectations of more demanding scenarios such as work and play.

Tocade was one of the first very abstract, super-synthetic perfumes that I really liked. Despite the fact that the notes are supposedly inspired by nature, there seem to be no ambition in its construction to create any imitation of or reference to nature. It is a synthetic, man-made pleasure, just like a beautiful city.

Top notes: Bergamot, Rosewood, Magnolia
heart notes: Rose, Orris Geranium
Base notes: Cedar,Vanilla, Amber, Musk

Roses in Jerusalem

While Jerusalem is renowned for its ancient stones and holy history, it is much less known for its beautiful gardens. It is probably the most well gardened city in Israel, with an abundance of fragrant bushes, shrubs and trees and plenty of flower gardens that will not embarrass a British gardener. Here are just some of the gardens I have seen, all in the neighbourhoods of Yemin Moshe and Nahalat Shiva. The jasmine and pissosporum photos in the following post are also taken in the same gardens.

Black Rose

black rose 3, originally uploaded by niteseeker.

The most incredible and unexpected birthday present I received yesterday was Black Rose by Goya, from Katherine. Kat thought I would understand and appreciate it's strange beauty more than she or anyone else she knows could, so I am truly lucky!

It was given to her by Miss Erica Westmacott of Walington, Oxfordshire, when Kat was staying with her at Tallows Cottage. Erica lived a long and independant life, and celebrated her 101st birthday in 1991.

While some perfumes are famous for their bottles, this one should be famous not only for its wonderful black rose scent, but also for the box where the little bottle nestles: a little matchbox with a dark rose. Only 1/3 of the perfume is still there (about 1ml at the most I think). And it’s smells heavenly of dark burgundy rose, almost black petaled, almost dry yet fragrant than ever. The scent is quite old, and becomes faint after an hour or so, so I cannot give you very accurate impressions of the base. Overall, it is similar to Nuit de Noel, only with the rose being the theme, and less the dry Saxon moss. The base is slightly mossy, perhaps with civet and amber, only that it is not sweet. But the top to middle notes are divine and rosy, like tucking your nose in a cushion of dark petals.

I could not find any information about Black Rose, just bits and pieces, one eBay auction for an identical bottle. I was not able to find any information about the notes or even the year of release. If you know anything about Black Rose, please share your knowledge with me! The curiousity will kill the cat but also will spill most of the precious perfume from the bottle onto my thirsty skin, and I do not have enough of it to fully recover its secrets…

p.s. I will be adding a photograph of this perfume and it's packaging tomorrow…

Pen Pal

(Noun) "A person with whom one becomes friendly by exchanging letters, esp. someone in a foreign country whom one has never met." (Apple Dictionary)

Soon after advertising my first “classified ad” sweet letters started arriving in the mail from different parts of the country, from girls my age who also liked nature, music and reading. They were all so sweet and friendly, but they were more real than imaginary friends. Except that I never got to meet them in person.
The letters usually had a faint background of pastel coloured images – of dogs with over sized heads and sad eyes, flowers and little girls in pink dresses. Some were really special, and I could tell even before I opened the letter – they had a tender scent of roses and sweet dreams that drifted beyond the sealed envelope.
Today, fancy stationaries and fountain pens are replaced by electronic mail, discussion groups and perfume swaps (it's called evolution). Yesterday I got a sample of Poussiere de Rose by Les Parfums de Rosine from Jill, and instantly I was reminded of the dreamy days of letters… I recognized the scent as soon as I opened the vial, but once placed on the skin, the powdery, sweetly spiced rosy, powdery, peachy scent blossomed and made me feel like a letter that wants to be read…