Yesterday's Perfume

Jules by Christian Dior (1980)

I was recently given some romantic advice about men that I find pertinent to this fragrance review.

Stop going for the flashy, obnoxious, weird extroverts, a particularly astute person told me, and begin to notice the quiet, watchful guys who aren’t vying for your — or anyone’s — attention. They’re the truly interesting ones.

Jules is that second guy in perfume form.

It announces itself as a fougère from the beginning, with the barbershop-y accord of aromatic lavender, florals and tonka (coumarin), but its primary character is leather chypre.

Puckery green notes mixed with herbs and fresh florals seem to radiate outward into an ambery-warm animalic base of leather. If the glowing Peridot birthstone had a scent, it would smell like Jules: light-green, iridescent, pale, fresh, angled, sumptuous, jewel-like, reflective.

"Well-blended" and "balanced" are terms you hear a lot in perfume descriptions, but they are particularly apt descriptors here. The seams do not show in Jules; it’s one unbroken line of beautiful.

 

A Vintage-Inspired Modern Perfume by Perfumer Antoine Lie? Help Me Make It Happen on Indiegogo

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

HELP ME CREATE A SEXY, VINTAGE-INSPIRED SCENT WITH ANTOINE LIE!

I'm raising money on the crowdfunding site Indiegogo to create a new perfume with world-renowned perfumer Antoine Lie.

Ever since I began to collect and write about vintage perfume, I’ve dreamed of creating modern equivalents of some of the beautiful fragrances of the past. Antoine Lie's beautiful and erotic perfumes really speak to me, and after I interviewed him for my book, I approached him with the idea to create a floral animalic inspired by vintage perfume but updated for modern consumers. He was eager to be on board, and I couldn't be more thrilled.

ABOUT ANTOINE LIE

Antoine is a world-renowned perfume who is privileged because he has both the opportunity (thanks to Paris-based perfume house Takasago) and the desire, to work in both the mainstream and niche worlds of perfume. I’m so grateful a perfumer of this caliber is interested in this project. 

Here's what one writer had to say about Antoine: “There are few creators who can balance between the needs of the perfume industry and the genius of an independent work of art. Subversive perfumer Antoine Lie is surely one of them. This man is very well known for stepping in two apparently opposite worlds—the mainstream giant brands and the most obscure niche ones.” — Miguel Matos, Fragrantica.com

HOW THE FUNDS WILL HELP GET THIS PERFUME OFF THE GROUND

My goal is to raise $6,000 by July 13^th. I’ll use the funds to register the perfume trademark (around $300); to pay perfumer Antoine Lie for both his time and for the high-quality perfume oils that will go into making this fragrance; and to purchase sample vials, bottles, and prototype packaging: about $5,700.

 

HOW YOU CAN HELP

If you've been a long-time reader of this site and would like to support the creation of a modern perfume as daring, deep, and aesthetics-driven as the perfumes of the past that you love — you can contribute anywhere from $15, $25, $50, $100, $250, $500, or $1,000 — with some great perks attached. After the fragrance is created, I will begin looking for investors and ways of bringing this perfume — and possibly others later — into the world.

To find out more about this campaign, please go to Perfume X: A Modern Vintage Perfume on Indiegogo. There, you can find out what perks you'll get for which contribution levels, and non-monetary ways you can support this campaign, for example, by spreading the news on Twitter, Facebook, and among friends and perfume lovers.

Thank you!

*Some of Antoine Lie's perfumes:

Antoine Lie's (Takasago Paris) creations include the newest COMME DES GARÇONS fragrance “Girl” for music sensation Pharrell as well as CDG's Wonderwood, 888, Energy C Lime, Energy C Grapefruit, and Daphne Guiness Daphne; TOM FORD’s Private Blend perfumes Azure Lime and Café Rose; BURBERRY Brit Blue; ARMANI Code; CALVIN KLEIN Contradiction; VERSACE CRYSTAL NOIR; several ETAT LIBRE D'ORANGE perfumes, including Sécrétions Magnifique, Rien, Je Suis Un Homme, and Tom of Finland;  COSTUME NATIONAL's Cyber Garden; PUREDISTANCE's BLACK; NINA RICCI's Love in Paris, several perfumes for Ermenegildo Zegna, and many others.

Harold and Maude's "Odorifics" Machine Prefigures Headspace Technology

 

In the cult classic “Harold and Maude” (Dir. Hal Ashby, 1971), an unlikely romance develops between a young, death-obsessed man-child Harold (Bud Cort) and an eccentric octogenarian (Ruth Gordon) whose zest for life transforms the way he sees the world. In an early scene, she takes him back to her wunderkammern of a house and shows him her “odorifics” machine, or what seems to be a kind of tape-recorder of smells. Maude:

Then I became infatuated with these, my odorifics. Give the nose a treat, I thought, a kind of olfactory bandwidth. So I began first with the easiest. Roast beef, old books, mown grass. And Mexican farmyard. Here’s one you’ll like: Snowfall on 42^nd Street.

Maude gives Harold a face-mask attached to a tube that runs from the machine, which begins cranking as he sniffs and describes the smells: subway, perfume, cigarettes. But it's the scent of snow that stops him in his tracks.

Roast beef. Grass. Old Books. Snow. Sound familiar? They’re four of Christopher Brosius’s CB I Hate Perfume and early Demeter scents, and more importantly, the Odorifics machine is a prefiguration of Headspace Technology (or perhaps, more accurately, The Madeleine — see below), pioneered and developed by Swiss chemist Roman Kaiser in 1975.

In Headspace, the scent molecules around an object are captured, their molecular structure analyzed through a technique like gas chromatography, then documented, and interpreted by chemist/perfumers. This data can be used as a blueprint by perfumers to reconstruct the notes, accords, and scents of things whose essences are either difficult or impossible to harvest, like gardenia or leather.

English artist Amy Radcliffe recently created a fantasy version of portable headspace technology she calls The Madeleine, something like a smell camera that would make capturing smells (“scent-ography”) available to everyone. (I’ve written about how technology’s infatuation with smell seems to be increasing.)

 

I watched “Harold and Maude” long before I was ever interested in perfume, but I think it's been 20 years since I've seen it! It was on the Sundance Channel tonight, and it’s amazing to see this visionary scene about scent from a 1971 film. It's visionary not only about the technology that will be available, but also about the kinds of seemingly mundane things like snow that we'd want to smell. (Snow, in fact, won Demeter two Fragrance Foundation Awards — like the perfume Oscars — in 2000.)

Watching "Harold and Maude" again, you can also see how it will go on to influence "Rushmore," and "Hotel Grand Budapest" director Wes Anderson. Bud Cort’s character is a prototype of almost every one of Anderson’s film antiheroes...

Scents and New Sensitivities (about Odorifics, scent technologies, and Christopher Brosius)

In Honor of St. Patrick's Day: My Favorite Green Perfumes (Repost)

My Chinese sign is earth Rooster, so even though I'm not a sporty, outdoorsy tree-hugger, I express that earthy nature by being keen on green when it comes to perfume.

What is a green scent, exactly? According to my beloved Haarmann & Reimer Book of Perfume, green notes are "the youngest branch of the family tree" and:

"All in all, 'green' describes the fragrance conception of leaves, meadows, grass. The family is subdivided into fresh and balsamic, in light and cool notes of lemon and herbs of the green direction; and also in the soft, warm notes of natural odorants used mainly in perfumes of the chypre type."

Notes you'll find in green perfumes, which smell fresh, bracing, and outdoorsy: Galbanum, pine, leafy green accords, petitgrain, coriander, lily-of-the-valley, spearmint, bergamot, angelica, artemisia, citrus oils, juniper berries...

Below is a random list of my favorite vintage green perfumes. If you think I've left anything out — let me know! Happy St. Patrick's Day! It's time to get your green on...

Aliage Estee Lauder's sport scent that's so tart and refreshing I want to drink it.

Vent Vert This rosy-green floral smells so fresh you can almost see the bent, peppery-smelling flower stems that were crushed for your pleasure.

Silences What's that sound? The ghostly Sound of Silences. Proceed with caution. This one doesn't smile much.

Chanel No. 19 "Woody, oily, and vegetal, with muted florals and a hint of fresh cut leaves and watery cucumber, Chanel No. 19's song sounds like piano notes played with the damper pedal down."

Calyx Guava, grapefruit and a cheery freshness that's anything but bland. This one makes me happy.

Coriandre This rosey, herby, funky thing is pure 70s. Chic and weird.

Givenchy III "A green/floral chypre, Givenchy III is pretty much perfection. It starts off with a mouth-watering combo of green/citrus notes (galbanum and mandarin) and fruit/flowers (peach and gardenia), which add luscious candied juiciness to the dry, refined, and elegant greenness of this chypre. You almost forget its coquettish brightness as it dries down to a woody, powdery, spicy (sandalwood) and warm ambery base."

Weil de Weil "It starts off with a wonderfully bitter green accord — galbanum, leafy green notes, and facets from neroli and narcissus. Just as these tart, minor key notes sing out, Weil subtly evolves into something softer and dreamier, thanks to a plump gardenia note and a powdery — and almost rotten-sweet — hyacinth note."

Inoui by Shiseido Like a bracing walk in the woods, the green in Inoui veers toward the coniferous (pine needles, etc.)

Jean-Louis Scherrer This sexy green chypre is the epitome of chic. Not for the young girlies.

Ma Griffe Galbanum, gardenia...and cinnamon? It shouldn't work, but it does.

Diorella What can I say about this one that hasn't been said? My desert-island scent, it's fresh, dirty, and funky. A sparkling good time.

Bandit Mmmmm. Elegant, green, bitter, and smooth all at once. This green leather chypre is not for amateurs.

Cristalle "Bursting with a green citrus at the beginning and settling down into something light but warm and spicy on your skin, Cristalle reminds me a lot of Diorella, but without the funky, garbagey fruit undertones. Its dryness, in part from vetiver, gives it some olfactory texture, like scratched glass. In addition to oakmoss, the vetiver in Cristalle makes its drydown complex: woody, incensey, grassy."

Muguet des Bois Dior perfumer Edmond Roudnitska's favorite lily-of-the-valley scent: "No better lily note was ever made. It pushed the green note of the flower. As a lily note, it was magnificent. It was much better than the one I had made myself. I wondered how they had managed to create such a masterpiece in the Thirties, with so little means." (Perfume Legends, Michael Edwards)

(This was originally posted in 2011.)

Tatiana by Diane von Furstenberg (1975)

Spring has sprung, even in iced-over NYC I hear, so what better way to celebrate than with a gorgeous, happy floral.

Diane Von Furstenberg’s iconic wrap dress turns 40 this year, and Tatiana, the fragrance named after her daughter, is almost 40, too. But she might as well be a teenager or an early 20-something, because vintage Tatiana still smells as young, fresh, and vivacious as ever. (I can't say the same for its reformulation, which I've heard — not surprisingly — smells like a chemical stew.)

Like Fracas before her, Tatiana is a bouquet of white flowers in a bottle just itching to start trouble. See the flame that shoots out of the Tatiana bottle in that ad? That’s truth in advertising. Whoever composed Tatiana really let its white florals out of their cages, to do their thing and roar.

Top notes: Orange blossom, bergamot, rosewood, green note

Heart notes: Jasmine, narcissus, tuberose, jonquil, rose

Base notes: Sandalwood, musk, civet

Tatiana opens with a wonderful bubblegum-sweet and rubbery tuberose combined with rich jasmine and orange blossom, but it's momentarily pushed into a green, sharp direction. The green comes from what my Haarmann & Reimer guide calls, mysteriously, a “green note,” (galbanum?) and from a luscious narcissus note.

A perfumer once gave me a sample of narcissus absolute that I am smelling right now, and it’s an interesting counterpoint to orange blossom, jasmine, and tuberose, notes that I imagine as three headstrong women, headed in one direction in a united front. Pulling them into a greener, earthier almost dried hay and leaves direction, like the green hair in the Vent Vert ad drawn by Rene Gruau, narcissus tempers Tatiana’s sweetness and gives it an edgier, moodier dimension — for a microexpression of a second. (Narcissus absolute on its own almost smells pissy and animalic.)

Soon, its sensuous base of musk, sandalwood and civet come into play, rounding out the bouquet with waxy richness and subtle warmth.

Tatiana could initially be mistaken for an 80s scent — it has that bigness of sweet, white florals at the beginning. But unlike 80s scent-bombs like Amarige, Tatiana has restraint. There’s no fruity aspect, just the subtle counterpoint of green, and the heady white florals that subside into that rich base. Tatiana is a floral, all right, but she’s accompanied with just the right entourage to bring out the best in her, to highlight and to soften, like good makeup and lighting.

Tatiana’s development and restraint, in spite of its big white flowers, makes it a quintessential 70s fragrance. If you love tuberose, jasmine or orange blossom, and you find modern versions to be either too watery and tame, or too outrageous and screeching, Tatiana will show you that she knows when to show her stuff, and when to retreat and leave you wanting more.

Happy 40^th, DVF wrap dress. And happy 40^th to Tatiana, too.

 P.S. You can find minis of vintage Tatiana on eBay and the Miniature Perfume Shoppe for a song.

And the Winners of the "American Hustle" & Diorella Perfume Giveaway Are...

 

Enter to Win the "American Hustle" Flowers and Garbage, Diorella Perfume Giveaway!

  

Rosalyn: There’s this top coat that you can only get from Switzerland and I don’t know what I’m going to do because I’m running out but I love the smell of it. Irving and I can’t get enough of it. There’s something…the top coat…It’s like perfumey but there’s also something rotten and I know that sounds crazy but I can’t get enough of it. Smell it, it’s true. Historically, the best perfumes in the world, they’re all laced with something nasty. It is true! Irving loves it, he can’t get enough of that stuff…Carmine…sweet and sour, rotten and delicious…

Mayor Carmine Polito: What am I smelling? It smells like flowers!

Rosalyn: Flowers, but with garbage!

Mayor Carmine Polito: You know what that is for me? It’s coriander for me…it’s coriander.

Say "Happy Valentine's Day" With Scented Ink!

There are few things more anachronistic than the handwritten letter.

OK, maybe there's one thing more anachronistic than the handwritten letter: cursive writing. In fact, 41 states don't even teach kids how to write in cursive anymore, which has resulted in some 20-somethings looking at cursive like it's Sanskrit. Cursive, sadly, was pretty much phased out of the classroom in the 1990s.

Since excess is my best friend, I figure we should not only bring back handwritten letters in cursive, but we should also do so in scented ink aka "encre parfumée."

I'm just beginning to experiment with this idea, so my friends around the country better prepare themselves for some smell-o-grams from me.

The Opus Oils glamour-pusses over at Jitterbug Perfume Parlor have a divine Artisan Perfumed Ink for dip pens in the scent of Babylon Noir, which is about as sexy, dark, and decadent as its name sounds. And why wouldn't it be? It has tuberose, leather, civet and smoke accords. (Babylon Noir was Opus Oils' answer to author Sheila Eggenberger's call to scent the characters of her new book, Quantum Demonology.) One dram of Babylon Noir perfumed ink is a mere $12, and 1 oz. is $35.

Vintage Perfume Commercial: Gio by Armani, 1992, Directed by David Lynch

 

A short film by David Lynch that just happens to be a perfume commercial, this 1990s Giò ad has all the hallmarks of a Lynch film: a beautiful and mysterious woman, menacing people in the shadows who teleport in and out of the time/space continuum as we know it, a quick jazz club scene, and a haunting score. Why can't all perfume commercials be this great?

Vintage Perfume Commercial: Fidji by Guy Laroche, 1990

 

Linda Evangelista again, this time for Fidji, a sixties perfume that was still going strong in the 1980s and early 1990s. (It might even still be going strong now, in diluted form, of course.) Instead of buying love slaves at the colonial bazaar as she was in her ad for YSL's Opium, here Evangelista's writhing on the beach with a factice bottle of Fidji.