Notes on Shoes Cake & Perfume

Scents of Christmas Past and Present ?

Roxana of Illuminated Perfumes  (click for her link to all of us) kindly asked me, a most negligent blogger,  to be a part of The Circle, to  blog about Christmas scents, and I am most happy to oblige!

Living in virtually seasonless Los Angeles, my New York childhood is what laid the foundation for my Christmas senses for ever after.  I identified most thoroughly with Tom's scent memories of chestnuts roasting on the streets of NY, taking the Fifth Avenue bus with my head buried in the backs of ladies fur coats, and the actual smell of snow and of the icy cold air, which I especially miss the week before Christmas.  I'm still a sucker for anything smelling of fir, all year 'round, a conflation of summers in Maine and the smell of our tree (yes I'm Jewish!) and the Junipers just outside our door.

In the 70's my Mom was in a "Conciousness Raising Group" -- yes that's what it was called -- with a great woman whose husband was a minister in a neighboring town.  She invited us (secular NY Jews) to his Xmas Eve service, a rousing political and cultural commentary with audience participation, if I remember correctly, and I was hooked on Xmas Eve Services for many years.  I think he only lasted a year more at that post, but I dragged my parents to a service every year at a different place, the most memorable being the Old Dutch Church founded in 1685 in the town next to ours, with a cemetary attached made famous by Washington Irvington's tale about Sleepy Hollow Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman.  There was no heat but a stove, and the flickering candlelight and smoky smell in the cold stone church stays with me still.

Here in Los Angeles, we don't have any environmental Christmas smells, but the combination of my BF's Incensey Comme des Garcons Avignon perfume (a vestige of his Catholic childhood in France (yes, he's Jewish too!) and Roxana's wonderful Sierra Solid Gold are hitting all of the right "notes" for me this season.  They can seem anachronistic in our daytime temperatures of 70 - 80 degrees during the day, but when the sun sets early, like I remember from childhood, the 30 degree drop makes the night air feel almost right, along with the views of snow capped peaks visible from certain street corners, which I can smell in my imagination.  Some "authority" wrote a book about smell saying that we never dream of smells, and I am here to tell you that they are dead wrong, I frequently have scented dreams, and these are the ones I wish for in December and January! 

Vintage Visa Redux

A great perfume pal sent me a sample of the legendary Vintage Visa by Robert Piguet and I fell in love with it, convinced I'd never have more than that tiny bit.  Surprise!  I found a few like minded gals and obtained an 8 oz bottle in it's original plaid package that had never seen the light of day nor been opened, I wonder if the juice could possibly be from 1946, the year it was made????  Quite a bit older than me if that is the case.

There really isn't much information circulating about Visa in its original version, as the new one (with which it shares only its name) takes up all the airspace.  It is often attributed to Germaine Cellier (Bandit,Vent Vert, Fracas, Jolie Madame) who I researched a bit and thought that she must be one of the coolest perfumer of all time.  Here is what Helg of Perfume Shrine at the end of her wonderful piece about the perfumer --

"It is difficult to imagine how perfumery would have been today without Germaine Cellier (or how she would react to today’s perfumery of focus groups and discussion panels), such was the defiance with which she paved her own way and became one of the most rebellious names in fragrance creation. And for that we’re truly thankful."

Denyse on Grain de Musc reveals to us that Visa was  composed instead by the influential Jean Carles (also Cellier's arch rival it seems) and looking at his list of perfume accomplishments, I can sense the connection between Visa and Tabu, Miss Dior, Shocking and Tailspin. But I’m disappointed that my new treasure isn't a Cellier Gem. 

And a Gem it is -- the masterfully blended aldehydes, rich florals, in an amazingly rich base of earthy woods and herbs,  and an animilic hit unlike anything else I know, add up to a truly great almost forgotten scent that I am thrilled to own. 

Vintage scents abound on Ebay and at The Perfumed Court, and I encourage anyone who is moved by these historical wonders to do anything to obtain them while we can! 

Anya's Garden Revisited

Here are my notes about the four other scents from Anya's Garden, each quite original on its own terms, I must say I had a great time suspending my prejudices and taking each of them on their own as scented experiences.  But I always like to change my mind and perceptions, hopefully this facility will last me well into old age ; ) 

Pan is her notorious scent with tincture of billy goat hair in the base -- a new animilic ingredient she may have invented.  As a base note kind of girl, the deeply herbal nature of this scent attracts me at once, but I fear my difficulty with cedar rears its ugly head and it fights with the the other welcome basenotes.  Or is the Billy Goat essence turning my head?  I'll wait until Pierre gets home and get a second opinion!  No doubt about it, this is a very original scent, but it's falling apart on me, due to my peculiar relationship with cedar.  Ah, there's Pierre (no that's Johnny Depp, but P has a "Goatee" too ; ) and as I suspected, it comes together on him perfectly, this is one very original scent!  Notes --Top: lavender, white lotus, Middle: cedar, Base: ambriene, hay, patchouli, billy goat hair !

River Kali is artfully balanced between cool and warm, and is probably the scent that would suit many different people, not being as strange and mysterious as Pan, nor as rich and intense as MoonDance.  I must  say here that a kind of mystery is something I am always seeking in a perfume.  I always say that I am terrible at picking out individual notes,  but part of that deficiency must be a kind of willfully stubborn refusal to reduce scents to their notes and my strong desire to be taken somewhere by a fragrance where I've never been before.  I want to be surprised, transfixed, and transported by scent, which doesn't happen to me all too often!     

Of course I can be charmed by individual indelible ingredients, notably saffron or absinthe or anise, but the scents that rely on one standing out above all else don't magnetize me like their alchemically layered cousins.  Although River Cali states Vanilla in its ingredients, it is blended so that its special character is utilized without asserting itself literally.  Notes -- Top: African pink peppercorn, Middle: Turkish rose otto, lemon, lime and orange leaves, Base: Vanuatu sustainable sandalwood, creamy rich African vanilla, sexy musk seed .....

Temple is the most straightforward of the four I've tasted so far, with a rather cool woody incensey core.  Orange juice (see there's the acid) and mysterious borneol crystals must sharpen it a bit so it doesn't go too soft, and it has a bit of a kitchen spice quality that has often appealed to me in the past, but isn't what I'm after lately.  Incense Woods and Spice lovers will all find Temple very satisfying indeed.  Notes -- Top: distilled orange juice, borneol crystals, Middle: aglaia flower, cassia, Ayurvedic herbs and spices, Base: sustainable Laotian and Vietnamese Oud agarwood, earth tincture -- yum!

Starflower must be Anya's entry into the Foodie fragrance world, and it's very effective, though not my thing at all!  Totally cherry almond up front which makes a kind of phantom chocolate thing happen, oh, there chocolate is in the base notes with vanilla and a gounding animilic thingy.  It's rather grown up for a scent like this, not sugary or cloying, but very edible, it mostly makes me want to get into the kitchen to bake.  I wanted to make cookies tonight, perhaps chocolate and dried cherries for a food/perfume pairing!  If I were art directing this scent to make it appeal to me as a non foody scent wearer, I wonder what artemisia would do?  The aromatics would take the place of the licorice traditionally used in Absinthe to balance the bitterness of the mythic herb. Here are the notes as is : Top: bitter almond, cherry, lemon, Middle: tropical flowers with a rich dose of tuberose, savory and sweet seed, Base: chocolate, vanilla and some animalic playfulness (cruelty-free) - this stuff lasts on your skin forever, like MoonDance, which is quite unusual for natural scents! 

Thanks to Anya and a select few natural perfumers for taking their scents into the complex and sophisticated realms that I expect of perfume! 

Natural Charms

Honestly, I am a complete Eurosnob when it comes to aesthetics, and up until the last year or two, natural perfumer's efforts didn't seem terribly interesting to me.  I am a fan of Mandy Aftel's book Essence and Alchemy, but sadly the first scents in her line weren't suited at all to my own chemistry, which was disappointing from the start.  I was able to tweak her amber formula and get something I liked very much, but Loving Hands at Home does not turn out fabulous scents for years!  Natural Perfumery has developed and grown lately so that there are quite a few perfumer's lines to choose from, with varying degrees of complexity, naturally I am most interested by the most skillful and sophisticated of the offerings.  I suppose that like all aesthetic movements, Natural Perfumery took a while to grow up, and it now seems to have come into a moment of its own, with several proponents standing out above the rest, as always. 

Natural Perfume strikes me as a rather American form of expression, that old "Well they do it their way over there, we do it our way over here" Amurrican thing, which at its best has a kind of freshness and immediacy, gratifying in a way that one doesn't have to have any previous knowledge to appreciate.  At its best, it is not uncomplicated, but it is a bit more direct and seems rather contrete and imaginable in a way that, say, Vol de Nuit isn't (and I love that about it!).  Although this sensibility is not my natural inclination, I can truly appreciate its appeal, probably more so since I've been watching lots of American History DVD's! 

Anya McCoy of Anya's Garden, whom I have known (virtually) since Luca Turin's exciting blog Perfume Notes was active sometime in 2005, generously shared samples of her scents with me way back in the Spring, and I have been terribly remiss in not saying anything about them!  I've actually gone through several cycles of sniffage, not really having the nose or heart to sniff lots of perfume during this scalding summer.  I only really had the taste for a few aromatic green scents, which included her uplifting Kaffir Cologne to the unfair exclusion of the others.  Happily, my nose has come back full force and I have been delighted to be able to sniff her whole line, which includes two new offerings as of this month.

She suggests ordering the sniffage of her scents (and others too I'm sure) in order of strength, from lighter and subtler Sauvignon Blancs, through the Chardonnays, into the Merlots, and up to the big Pinot Noirs.  I like this idea, as I have often had the experience when sampling a number of scents in a short time, of being blasted by something intense and not being able to properly appreciate a subsequently more delicate number.  

I feel that I understand Anya's scents in a way I don't usually grasp Classic European Perfumery, which is perhaps a consequence of more identifiable natural ingredients, but it seems that she composes scent the way I cook, balancing richness with freshness, soft and hard, sweet with bitter or sour, using acid to bring ingredients to life, and cream or butter to soften, enrich or emulsify them.  That said, I do not have the sense at all that I could just pull these together at home, there is clearly an intention with each scent as well as the overall sense that there is a very particular sensibility at work, throughout this diverse group of scents. 

Fairchild is my favorite, and ironically, it is the scent I couldn't smell properly at all when I first tried it -- there must be some ingredient within that occasionally short circuits my delicate nose -- but I have found it quite mesmerizing on subsequent sniffings!   It has a kind of aromatic desert aspect, reminding me of the huge inedible purple sage bush we have growing in our yard, a scent that I find at once intoxicating and comforting.  I often sniff sage spices and oils, trying to find something that approximates it, and I've never found anything close to the way it smells at night in my yard, and this has a similar spirit, like it's better to breathe it in than plain old air.

Anya has named Fairchild after a botanical garden in Florida (although it sounds like one of those androgynous family names popular for childern these days ; ) and its dominant characteristics seem to be a kind of magnetic pull between citrus and tropical floral aspects.  The Middle Notes reflect that well -- 3 jasmines, 2 champacas, ylang ylang, citrus leaves rinds and flowers!  The unusual underpinnings of  make it all the more enticing to me, although I'll be dashed if I can understand how they work, dig those cool basenotes!  Notes -- Top: pandanus and rare tropical flowers, Middle: jasmine grandiflorum, jasmine sambac and jasmine ariculatum, white and gold champacas, ylang ylang, citrus leaves and rinds and flowers, Base: seaweed, ambergris, smoked sea shells, oakmoss, oh my!

Kaffir was the standout for me when I tried it during one of our heat spells this summer.  It was like diving into a pool of that amazing Kaffir Lime exotic sharp green clarity.  I discovered Kaffir Lime leaves while cooking from Donna Hay's fantastic cookbook called Flavors, which is divided into chapters focusing on pivotal ingredients, and it must be in the Citrus section.  I was so happy when she identified for me the hitherto mysterious sharp green green green taste in Thai food, and now I use it at will -- we have an Asian Market nearby.  I loved the idea of a scant based on it, but I can't smell anything else but Kaffir in this blend, and I'd really like to, as they are quite intriguing!  It must be a vagary of my nose again, let's try it on Pierre -- ah, there we go, it's much more fleshed out on him, yum!  All of that greenness of the Kaffir suported by more green, tarragon and galbanum, tempered by florals, and deepened by yummy basenotes of agarwood, musk seed and leather, finally surfacing on me as well, after much more time than on Pierre ; ) 

MoonDance is one of the brand new offerings, and it is truly beautiful!  This resinous floral absolutely reeks of natural ingredients, not in that health food store way, more like walking into Liberty Naturals in Portland, which is absolutely luscious.  I'm wondering why this is recommended as the second sniff in Anya's perfume flight, as it is very heady for me, with floral notes of Tuberose, Jasmine Sambac and Rose de Mai, it makes me swoon a bit, where's my fan?  

The classic rich florals are beautifully balanced by Chamomile, Opoponax and  Sandalwood which give it a wonderful bittersweet quality, which is one of my favorite features of many vintage scents, and one rarely finds in contemporary ones of any ilk.  This is a Tuberose and Jasmine scent for non-Tuberose or Jasmine lovers like myself, as neither of those notes take over in this wonderfully blended scent.  The creamy drydown completely alluring, and wafts up to me from the back of my hand as I type.  This must be Anya's most expensive scent, judging by the ingredients.  And it actually smells expensive, in the best possible way, and it lasts for ages.  Notes -- Top: American Violet Flower Isolate, Indian Water Mint, Middle: French Process Tuberose, Chinese Jasmine Sambac, French Rose de Mai, American Apple-scented Chamomile, Base: African Opoponax absolute, Carolina Ambergris, Haitian Sandalwood, Sustainable White Sandalwood, South African Hyrax.

These three are my favorites, I'll post the other four later in the week..... XXX

Orange Caramel Polenta Cake From Heaven (or Ottolenghi)

I totally forget that this blog is supposed to be about Cake & Shoes as well as Perfume (my personal Holy Trinity), so I thought I'd ease my way back to blogging with the cake I baked all summer.  Every time I bake it it looks almost exactly like this picture, which is to say Absolutely Fabulous, and since it is only available at the amazing Ottolenghi in London, I want to encourage people to make it at home.

It is good for people who don't consider themselves to be bakers, as it is quite a simple thick batter spread over the caramel and orange layer, an upside down cake, and quite impossible to overbake.  I have had better results making the caramel here in LA without the water, and I use1 1/4 cups of butter with 1/2 cup of Olive Oil instead of all butter to make it extra moist, and skip the glaze.  Here is the recipe from Gourmet.

Your friends and fans will love you, and you'll have lots of fun making it, as it is a kind of magic to unwrap it after baking.  

Stay tuned for a new perfume blog on Anya's Garden Scents and assorted Naturals this week!

My First Foray Into Abstract Perfume

I don't like contemporary abstract art -- the original stuff from the 50's was a legitimate response to age-old figurative art, and the romanticism of the Impressionists, as well as an authentic expression of the post war 50's zeitgeist.  Since then, it all seems to me like a rehash, coming from an acedamic place that uses the original stuff as the reference, or is so pared down as to become wallpaper, and boring wallpaper at that!  Now here's a wonderful piece by Maura Bendett, who says that when she went to Grad school it was unthinkable to go against the Abstract Expressionist Old Boys Network, and she didn't until she had enough courage at the end of school.  And Bill Brice's students at UCLA were lucky enough to be with an authentic abstract artist, who had been working since the 40's, and wasn't part of any movement. 

But enough about my unpopular ideas about Contemporary Art, I'm just using this as a lead-in to the connections to and differences between abstraction in art, and perfumery, which has fewer precedents, and is truly Contemporary, although it is  just as hard to pull off.  The trick, for me, is for an abstract scent to smell like Something, i.e. Itself, without smelling like anything in particular that you can identify.  Two of the legendary scents in this area are Eau D'Issey, and Dzing, neither of which have ever really spoken to me, although I find the latter quite fascinating.  The LA based Gendarme, which is supposed to be a men's scent that smells nothing but clean, is an Emperor's New Clothes scent to me. 

All of this leads me to the lovely hour I spent at Ormonde Jayne in London a couple of weeks ago.  As far as perfume reviews go, it doesn't get better than Octavian, so here his take on them.  For myself, I must say that the legendary Ta'if and Ormonde Jayne Woman are extraordinary, and I brought other samples with me on my trip to vet them.  The transparency and lack of literal perfume qualities have made these perfect travelling companions to stinky hysterical India, as foils to the daily bombardment of the senses here.  

I had thought that perhaps rich "natural" scents would be the ticket here, when I made the perfume bag for my trip, although I had imagined that some less rich scents might be refreshing, and brought Tea for Two, M & B Spiritus, and the strange vintage Jean LaPorte bitter mango scent L'Eau des Marveilleuses.  Although neither Jasmine & Tuberose, the original Indian florals, are my faves, Helg assures me that I would love them here in their natural habitats (I'm ashamed to say that I haven't pursued any perfume in India yet, must this week), the night blooming jasmine in Jodhpur was unlike anything I've ever smelled.  I find that my Norma Kamali Perfume containing a zillion florals in a rich intense blend just makes me dizzy here, while is conversely refreshing in arid LA. 

I had recently become a convert to O-J, and was delighted that I'd be able to get there in London and sniff everything in its natural habitat and buy whatever I wanted, as they are unavailable in the US, except by order from the O-J site.

The OJ scents are characterized by a kind of transparency and sparkling effect, especially remarkable in contrast with quite earthy woods and spices which make up the notes of at least half of her offerings.  By "her," I mean the lovely Linda Pilkington who we got to hang out with for half of our time at the shop.  There was a lot to talk about, between shoes and perfume and travel and families, and we barely scratched the surface, I'm looking forward to going back to grab my new faves, Champaca and Tolu, and test the Parfum version of Sampaquita, which I love, but seems to vaporize on me.  I was so covered in EDP when I was at the shop, I hadn't a chance to sample the Parfums, which I hear are wonderful, and quite changed by the intensity of 30% vs 20% of essential scent components (I hope I have the numbers right, it's something like that).   Next week I'll be back in London in Winter, quite a change from India AND Los Angeles, it will be interesting to sniff these scents in the cold! 

Narcotic Natural Perfume: My Absinthe Brute

I actually made my experiment with Calice Becker's Absinthe Verte formula (see my A Taste of Heaven) quite a while ago, but I set it aside, feeling rather ambivalent about it, and maybe it cured a bit, and I did get some distance on it.  Wormwood, as I mentioned, is so intense that while I was mixing up the darn brew, I kind of overdosed on it, and rather felt as if I couldn't do enough to mitigate its smell, or maybe neutralize it?  I couldn't decide which was better for my concoction, although my aim was, without a doubt, to feature the Wormwood in a totally different way from the other scents and drinks I had experienced, but it's so darned pungent!  I love bitter vegetables and herbs, more so as I get older, perhaps my system is too sweet and it balances me out somehow ; )  I should ask my herbalist, right?

So here is what I did -- Becker's formula is for 1000 g of essences, which I divided by 5 to get the ingredients down to amounts I could imagine, and I used DROPS instead of GRAMS of course , which is how I saw Mandy Aftel mix her Maroc in a a demo once.  I started with one drop (ONE!) of Wormwood CO2 Extract in 10 ml of denatured alcohol so I could experience it on it's own, yikes!  Then I mitigated it with whatever I had on hand from Calice's (I feel I know her now) formula:  my own Amber mixture from the time I read Aftel's Essence and Alchemy (CB used Ambrarome), Vanilla, Oak Moss, Patchouli, Lavender, Orange Flower, Rose, Geranium, and oodles of Bergamot (her formula contains a full third of it!).  What I got was still so sharp I decided to soften it with a little Clove, Benzoin, and Labdanum, and still it smelled a bit rough.  What to do?  I was missing a major aromatic component of her formula -- four different types of Lavender!  I had added whatever I had, a paltry 10 drops  whereas hers had a whopping 50% of the stuff, but this was a riff on hers after all,  made at home!

Luckily I remembered that I had some Ambergris tincture from the era when wonderful Luca Turin had his blog, and a few of us went in on some of the pure Amber Gris after he extolled its virtues, divided it up and tinctured it, and it sits in my cabinet to this day.  LT had done an experiment where he sprayed something nice and normal, perhaps Guerlain Vetiver on each hand, and on one he added a drop of Ambergris and the effect was utterly transformative.  So I added 4 drops (in what turned out to be a 70 drop formula) and hoped for the best.  By this time I had completely overdosed on the Wormwood and my nose had shut down completely,  so I put it aside for further study.   

Every once in a while, during the last month, I've spied the cobalt bottle containing my potion on the table, and I've dabbed it around a bit . It's bitter, not sweet like CB's, and it's undeniable herbal, is it an egregious hippie aroma?  No, it's so darned heady, rather  more Goth, not fuzzy and friendly, yet not nasty either.  As it develops, and it actually does develop, its warmth surfaces, but it never loses that Wormwood Wallop, and yes, I do find it strangely addictive, even in this makeshift form, thanks to Ms Becker, or to this mysterious herb, or both.

So the Victorians had something there, perhaps Absinthe wasn't in and of itself downright dangerous, but had a narcotic quality to those who were oddly susceptible to it, and that would have been, and is, me.  I've always had a weakness for sensibilities of the past tempered by the present, and my homemade juice is very evocative, probably just to me -- luckily I work at home!

Flash from the Past: The Charm of Natural Perfumery

I must begin with my apology for dropping the ball on my chronicle of our visit to Strange Invisible Perfumes!  Had I not been alerted to Tom's review of Botanique Musc by Roxana, I probabaly would have lagged even more -- there are those bloggers who cannot stop themselves from posting every little thing they do, and there are those, like me (and Cait ; ) who are mired in their every day experiences (I speak for myself) and simply forget to blog!  I even forget to check my beloved perfume blog Grain de Musc and can miss tons of interesting posts and comments in only a week!  But enough about me and my slothful ways.

As at least 106 (my traffic that day, whoops!) of you read in Tom's review of Musc Botaniqe last week, we had a lovely visit to Strange Invisible Perfumes in Venice (California ; ) a couple of weeks ago.  All of the women who work for this place are delightful and happy to share their beloved naturally based scents, which is the best advertisement I can think of for this jewel box of a shop.  I grew up in the late 60's and early 70's, and I must admit that the lure of the hippie perfume oils was lost on me at the time.  I was already a bit of a snob and also a vintage-clothing-wearer (although I did wear leotards and jeans on occasion) and I was more interested in smelling like Rita Hayworth in Gilda than the girl who sang I Met a Boy Called Frank Mills in HAIR (which I LOVED, check out this video, but it wasn't my aesthetic).  I could be wrong, but I think that this was also the period during which loads of synthetic Musk was hitting the streets in hipppy oils, Patchouli and Rain aside.  I just remember that some of the scents labeled Musk smelled very interesting to me, although I didn't "get" them, and others just smelled wierd, as did lots of the blends one tried in head shops or small boutiques.  This must have been the beginning of my sensitivity, or asnomia, to many synthetics used in perfumery.  

All of this is to say that the charms of Natural Perfumery is not lost on my, I do smile when the scent of Patchouli oil wafts past me at our local Farmer's Market as it did a numbe of times this morning, because I understand and appreciate the signification, and I do like the smell.  But I generally like my scents more expertly blended and mysterious.  The scents at Strange Invisible Perfumes, while harking back to a more innocent time, are, in fact, expertly blended, and in some cases are quite a bit more than a sum of their parts.  Overall, the sensibility is a bit sweet for me, as I like my perfume a bit darker, more bitter, and even trickier it seems, but there are certainly a number of crossover scents at SIP which might even please a diehard vintagelover.  Lyric Rain, for instance, has a full-on vintage quality (thank Tom's nose for this, and only my corroboration), and if I didn't have a dozen of them already, or if I were a diehard Organic fan, I would be very happy with it.  Galatea is also one of the oddest scents there, and I need to go back to try it again.  Black Rosette, as Scentself mentions, is a rather gothic twist on rose, and bears further exploration, as does Magazine Street (with proceeds going to aid Hurrican Kristina victims in New Orleans), and L'Invisible.   The interesting surprise for me was indeed Musc Botanique, which starts out smelling freshly and greenly nothing at all like Musk, but dries down to a lovely "skin scent" that I swear is what other people are loving when they smell Musk -- like in Musc Ravageur, but not as sweet.  Now this scent alone doesn't rock my world, but I am looking forward to trying it as a layering element to help other beloved scents stick to me, as I could detect it's presence on my upper arm a full 12 hours after I had applied it! 
   
Stay tuned for my Chemistry Set Experiment with the formula of A Taste of Heaven, which has actually been enacted -- thank Heaven for long weekends! 

A Worthy Addiction: By Kilian A Taste of Heaven / Absinthe Verte

On my recent trip to Paris, I happened to sniff the By Kilian scents in a small shop in St Germain.  At first whiff, none of them overtly appealed to me except for A Taste of Heaven (idiosyncratically subtitled Absinthe Verte).    I applied it to my skin and went on my way, only to find myself going back to the spot where I had applied it over and over throughout the day, mesmerized by it's aromatic bittersweetness, completely devoid of the traditional anise or licorice, which has, in this case, been replaced by Lavender.  Now I am addicted, like the bohemian Victorians and Parisians were to Absinthe, and I am happy to report that I have not suffered any undue effects.
This might be the only scent I love in which I can actually sense the underlying structure, and experience the layered elements working sequentially and in harmony, to become a scintillating entity.

Absinthe is one of the most overhyped libations in the uber- hip world of California cocktail culture.  While the idea of Absinthe has always appealed to me, because I adore the creative period in England and France that seems to have been drenched in this notorious substance, the drink itself has disappointed me.  I am not a licorice fan, and I always feel that in its presence,
I cannot sense the proper bitterness of the Artemesia Absinthum, or Wormwood itself, to drink the bittersweet elixir I have imagined.

When I became aware of Absinthe used in perfumery several years ago, I was intrigued, then disappointed by the syrupy nature of the Grandiflorum scent, and Luten's Douce Amere is similarly more Douce than Amere.  I have tried Absoluement Absinthe and L'Artisan's Fou D'Absinthe, both rather fresh and light, when I wanted something darker and more pungent.  After I read Mandy Aftel's Essense and Alchemy, I ordered a collection of natural essences from her supplier in Portland before going there.  I picked up a small carton containing my essences, and the largest bottle, also the cheapest, the Wormwood extract, had oozed the tiniest bit and completely pervaded the box with it's intensely acrid odor.  I was terrified, and have not ventured near it since.

What is it exactly, I wondered, what are the components of the perfume epiphany I have experienced in A Taste of Heaven?   One visit to the By Kilian website offers us the precise formulas for all of their fragrances!  I know it's goofy, but I want to make a stab at it at home (after all, I have the Wormwood!).  I will use the formula the way I use recipes in my kitchen, replacing intuitively the things I don't have with things at hand, and seeing if I can come anywhere near the aromatic bittersweet nectar I seem to need. 

I used to love my chemistry set as a kid, and one of my nicknames in Art School was "class chemist," so this is a great chance for me to revisit my youth.  I was far more gifted in the ceramics glaze room than I ever was with my chemistry set, although I deeply enjoyed both pursuits, and I doubt I will come anywhere near Calice Becker's vision with the meager assortment natural essences in my  cupboard.  If only we had rainy days here it would be the perfect project, but I'll have to settle for an overcast one instead.   

Strangely, the formula for A Taste of Heaven contains only 5 grams, or 5/1000 Absinthe / Artemesia/ Wormwood (which echoes my experience of it in my cardboard box -- this stuff is strong), while it contains fully 50% or 500 grams total of four different types of Lavender!   

I'll report my findings in this very space.  In the meantime, A Taste of Heaven is available at Luckyscent. 

A rose is not just a rose...............Rose Kashmirie hits home!

I wonder if I'm the first person in the perfume-lovers community to review the newly released Rose Kashmirie from Les Parfums de Rosine?  You should know that I'm a bit of a recent convert to this line, after having become drawn to unusual combinations with rose at their core just over a year ago while decanting a bit of Guerlain's Rose Barbare from a bottle I bought for someone in Paris.  I followed it up with Serge Luten's Rose de Nuit, aptly described by someone else as a winey rose, and got properly hooked on rich rose scents, until summer hit (May in LA) and lighter roses began to appeal.  I continued my ambivalent relationship with Ormonde-Jayne's Ta'if, which finally ended with us parting ways, and I happily rediscovered the Rosine scents with a sample of Rose D'Argent from a great perfume friend. I was immediately captivated by its interesting blend of Anise, Geranium and Rose, which morphs into something else altogether, a "happy" scent that never fails to lift my spirits.  Hardly any of the rose scents I like really smell very much like a rose, but they wouldn't exist without it.  This is all part of the magic of perfumery, which is why we are all here!

When announcements appeared in June about the release of Rose Kashmirie with the following detailed and romantic notes worthy of California Cuisine in the 80's, I knew I had to try it....

Top Notes: Red strands of saffron from Kashmiria, Essence of Bulgarian Rose, Spicy seeds of coriander, Green peel of Sicilian bergamot
Heart notes: Red peonies from China, Damascene Rose absolute, Resin from myrrh or Bdellium (?!) from India
Base notes: Woodsy oil from Nagar Motha, Black vanilla pods, Roots of Indian vetiver or Khus, Sacred sandalwood, Benzoin tears, Ambrette seeds that smell of musk, Ambergris

I'm realizing that there are certain notes used in scent that will always get my attention, and they are not just the usual suspects.  Saffron, clove (and most aromatic spices), geranium, honey, most woods (except for cedar and oud), frankincense and myrrh.  Not only do I adore these scents on their own, but they often seem to be used in interesting ways.  I find that what I am most often after in a scent are the simultaneous sensations of effortlessness and stimulation.  The ones I respond to most are usually masterfully blended but with a surprising twist, and this finally brings me to Rose Kashmirie!

When my bottle arrived in the hands of a friend a couple of weeks ago I ripped off the cellophane there and then to get to the bottle and spritz, and I was sort of thrilled and a bit disappointed.  The light and breezy aspect of the Rosine scents are not my usual style, as I tend to like more richness and gravitas, but it did have the uplifting quality that I can't help but respond to.  As I drove home I kept sniffing, and I got to a sort of murky green moment that made me think that alas I wasn't going to be able to love this one................at least I had my scent pals waiting with bated breath to get their hands on some and they could make up their own minds.  Now the day I got my hands on this scent was one of our silly 90 degree Ocotober days, and I noticed about an hour later that there was a wonderful scent in the air, and realized that it had to be coming from me!  The RK had bloomed surprisingly beautifully -- I had to revisit it right away, and re-experience the top/middle/bottom affect.  This time I didn't much mind that murky middle as I could sense the transmutation of the scent, the perfumer's art resulting in the alchemy that is perfume. 

• So this is what happens when I spritz Rose Kashmirie - the first burst of the sweet/tart blend of spice, citrus and rose is quite delightful, a kind of honeyed spiced citrusy rose.  At the end of this phase, it reminds me a bit of Creed's Fleur de The Rose Bulgare because of that rose Sicilian Bergamot effect, but it is also rather sweet and feminine, which must come from the saffron rose combo.  ( I often forget that I like sweetness in spicy scents).  I think that funny middle period comes when the "Ambrette seeds that smell of musk" joins in, and for some reason it surfaces for a few minutes almost as if it is on it's own before the scent it becomes its true self, a lovely sum of it's parts, at once  warm, bittersweet, spiced and earthy. Rose Kashmirie really makes me wonder about the magic of scent development, how the labels of top, middle, and bottom notes don't really address the mysterious ways scents combine their different volatilities which ebb and flow at different stages to make the perfumes we love or hate.  Bravo François Robert and Rosine!