PERFUMISTA
TAKES A HOLIDAY
By Neal Patterson
A few months ago, I wrote an article for Sniffapalooza Magazine
explaining my confusion over my wife’s recent obsession with
perfume. I didn’t understand her exacting attention to specific
scent notes, I seemed incapable of detecting the notes she described,
and I couldn’t see why there had to be so many doggone perfumes.
I was thrilled when her friend Andrée agreed to go with her to New York
last spring for the Sniffapalooza event, allowing me to stay home,
sinuses safe from burning alcohol fumes. Little did I realize how
persistent these perfumistas could be.
“…and a few weeks after we get back from vacation, we have Sniffa in
New York,” Kathy excitedly declared over dinner one evening.
‘We?’ I thought. “Why don’t you invite one of your friends along?”
Kathy looked like Cindy Lou Who after the Grinch stole the Christmas
tree. “Because I want you to go with me?” she replied.
I hesitated. My mind filled with nightmarish visions of tall, lanky women
dressed in black, atomizers at the ready, spritzing me from head to toe
with acrid droplets of rose, powder, and patchouli. I also couldn’t overlook
that Sniffa 2007 would happen on a weekend in October. Football season.
One of the masochistic rituals of a Baltimorean is watching the Ravens
lose on Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t miss that.
“Look, I don’t have to go to everything,” Kathy reasoned. “We could
squeeze in some things that you would like to do as well.” I pondered.
Now that she brought it up, I hadn’t ever gotten around to seeing the
Strand Bookstore. “It’s only a few blocks away from Bond No. 9,”
Kathy offered, brightly. Okay, I guess I was committed.
The Fall 2007 Sniffapalooza kicked off on Saturday, October 20th
with a breakfast at Bergdorf Goodman. When we entered the store,
I was relieved to see three or four men already mingling among the
chattering crowd. In fact, I was amazed at how many people were
attending the event. Kathy introduced me to some of her perfumista
friends, all of whom were bubbling with excitement over the planned events.
We were then crammed into a tiny dining area in Bergdorf-Goodman’s
basement and, after a so-so breakfast of chewy bagels and fruit cup,
the real excitement began. A parade of representatives from the various
perfume houses stood up, one by one, and pitched their latest fragrances.
While the reps would entice us with words such as “sensuous” and
“sophisticated,” sample strips were passed out among us. Everyone
waved these aromatic teases under their noses, oohed, aahed, and
clenched their eyelids orgasmically. I would sniff and nod to Kathy,
filing the scents under my usual categories of powdery, flowery, or sweet.
Each rep was greeted with enthusiastic applause, and just the
presentation of the bottle was received with yelps of rapture.
I didn’t feel the excitement myself, but I could appreciate the zealous
passion. When I was a teenager in the late 70s, I would go to science
fiction and comic book conventions. I was wildly devoted to these
interests, and loved the fact that I could find others who shared them.
At every convention, one of the local TV stations would send a reporter
down to cover the event. That night, the news report would usually start
out something like, “Well Stan, there are some wacky goings-on down
here at the Holiday Inn today as fat, ugly nerds with questionable hygiene
dress up like Captain Kirk and Darth Vader…”
It was humiliating. The intrepid reporter missed the story entirely. Sure,
there were some crazy fans at those things, but there were also people
who simply understood the value of fantasy fiction and wanted to share in the fellowship of others who also appreciated how much joy it could bring. We also celebrated the people who created those worlds for us. We wanted to say, “We get it, and we love you for creating this wonderful avenue of enjoyment for us.” I sensed that same vibe at Sniffapalooza.
After the Bergdorf-Goodman event, Kathy was true to her word and we spent the rest of the day visiting museums and walking around New York while the others headed to the next Sniffa location. As we strolled along Central Park, I thought about how science fiction and comic book characters are so much a part of the mainstream now, thanks primarily to those “wacky” fans who so ardently promoted the cause. I could see how these scent fans could bring about a similar broadening of interest in perfume.
The next morning, we headed down to Bond No. 9 in NoHo. I was actually interested in this stop since Bond was probably the first line of perfumes that introduced me to the concept of unisex scents. It was a revelation since I felt most men’s colognes were too heavy and bold, while Bond No. 9’s fragrances were simply pleasant and subtle, whether you were a man or a woman. I have to say, the breakfast spread was better than the previous day, but I was also taken with the pleasant salespeople who were not at all like the scent guerrillas at my local mall. They were educated on the products and didn’t try to push us toward any particular fragrance. Instead, they asked about our preferences. I told one of the women that I was currently wearing their New Haarlem, and she suggested that I try mixing it with Coney Island if I wanted a lighter scent. She sprayed some of both on my hand to illustrate the effect. The heavy coffee and vanilla notes of the New Haarlem were nicely complimented by the citrus qualities of the margarita mix note, creating a lighter fragrance that I could wear during the summer months. Yet another revelation from Bond No. 9. As we left the store and headed up Broadway toward the Strand Bookstore, I realized I had just become a fan of a perfumer.
I’m quite certain I’ll never share in the kind of glowing ardor that most perfumistas have for their chosen subject of affection. As someone with particular passions of my own, however, I can fully empathize with their need to explore the subject as thoroughly as they can and always stay abreast of new developments. It’s a kind of obsession you can never explain to someone who isn’t inclined to giving oneself over to an all encompassing interest. In that regard, I truly do get it.
Neal Patterson is an aspiring novelist whose varied interests include cooking, making custom
action figures, and watching football. Although he is not a perfume enthusiast, he does have
a fondness for Calvin Klein's Obsession, L'Artisan's Tea for Two, and Bond No. 9's New Haarlem.
He lives in Baltimore with his wife Kathy (The Minx) and two cats from a prior bachelorhood.
Most recent articles
Niche Perfumer Neil Morris
launches his line of fragrances at Takashimaya NY
New York, New York, November 30, 2007
Boston based perfumer Neil Morris announces the launch of his
signature line of fragrances at Takashimaya NY. The line consists
of eight non-gender specific fragrances (Neil prefers the term
“shared fragrances”). Neil is heralded for his ability to use his
imagination, intuition, and knowledge of perfumery, along with
his client’s vision, to translate their happy memories into their
bespoke perfume. Now he has taken that ability and combined
it with his passion for languages, travel, beauty, and music to
create a niche line of unique scents that appeal to the true fragrance lover.
Neil is thrilled to have Takashimaya NY as the first retail partner
in New York City. “I couldn’t be more thrilled than to have my
fragrances New York debut at Takashimaya. The Takashimaya
clientele represents the most sophisticated and well traveled
people in the world. I am honored to be able to introduce my
fragrances to them”.
The Neil Morris Fragrance line - Aegean, Afire, Clear,
Coral, Midnight Flower, Quest, Storm, and Zephyr –
were all inspired by personal experiences and memories.
The 2 ounce (60 ml) perfume spray bottles are
accompanied by his inspiration for each fragrance as
well as a description of the fragrance. They retail for
$95.00
Takashimaya opened its original store on Fifth Avenue
in 1958. Presently, Takashimaya New York, LLC
operates a department store at 693 Fifth Avenue at
54th St. It is owned and controlled by Takashimaya
Fifth Avenue Corp. and Takashimaya Singapore Ltd.
The present store was inaugurated in 1993 to wide
media attention. The design was to reveal a new retail
concept - a shopping environment with the feeling of a
personal home, featuring soaring ceilings, residential
lighting, and artfully decorated stone floors.
For more than 30 years Neil Morris has been creating custom fragrances for individual clients, private label, and special occasions. After decades of exploration, refinement, and inspiration from top perfumers, he has developed a unique process and approach to fragrance design. Morris is considered one of the leading independent fragrance designers in the country. Please visit neilmorrisfragrances.com for more information.
For press materials and product images, please contact David Garten at 617-267-2315 or david@neilmorrisfragrances.com.
JAPANESE INCENSE
by James Dotson
Welcome to the hidden byways of Japanese incense, a world that rivals the most frosty French perfume house in its top-secret formulas and obscurity. And... before you know it you can find yourself putting down $900 for a 10 gram box of incense (say, Kyara Ko Koh by Baieido).
Centuries before the court of Versailles was promenading through clouds of baroque perfumes, and in fact at a time when European kings were stinky savages, the Japanese aristocracy had developed an elaborate ritual art of incense. With the subtle genius of haiku composition the princely incense masters would grind the precious woods, labdanum and spices into a base of plum meat and mountain chestnut honey, then seal it into a ceramic vase and bury it by the bank of a mossy stream for several months of maturing. When the delicate thin stick was finally lit, a vision was released: stone bridge, ancient pine, fallen plum blossoms. Because of the subtlety of these fragrant poems, the art of incense appreciation was known as “listening” to incense, since the shifting nuances of smoke deserved the reverie of a sustained quiet attention.
Most of today’s high-end incense is created in and around Kyoto, the fomer imperial capital. The two big players are Baieido, founded in 1657, and Shoyeido, established in 1705. And there are at least a dozen other smaller artisan incense firms, but until recently it was nearly impossible to find their products outside of Japan since they were not sold online and there were only a tiny number of retailers. For decades, most of the western market has been subjected to the lowest range of Japanese incenses, made primarily with wood filler and cheap synthetics, destined to fill the shelves of head shops and poorly lit new age emporiums. But now you can purchase incense formerly reserved for the Imperial Palace with a quick click at an online boutique.
I think of BAIEIDO as the most traditional of the incense families: their fragrances have a pared-down, austere elegance that allows you to appreciate the superior quality of the Mysore sandalwood, rare aloeswoods and bitter herbs featured in most of their blends. Byakudan Kobunboku is one of the finest natural sandalwood incenses, just the majestic scent of pure wood with a peppering of dark spices. It costs about $10 and really has no rival in this price range. At double the price is Byakudan Kokonoe Koh, a more buttery sandalwood version with a bigger portion of the costly heartwood notes. Another favorite in this price category is Hinoki Cypress which smells like a extra dry gin martini smoked in frankincense. Leaping up the price range is Ko Shi Boku ($320). This is made with kyara, the highest grade of very old aloeswood (oud) which gives off an ethereal and protean accord of ambergris, resin, and animalic leather notes... definitely worth obtaining even one stick just so that you can know what a legendary oud is supposed to smell like. Fortunately, several online retailers sell sample sticks of Baieido so you have no excuse.
SHOYEIDO seems more contemporary than Baieido, though they are still a 12th generation family company and most of their products are made entirely with natural materials. Overall, they give a more ambery, luxe and “oriental” impression. Even their relatively cheap “daily incense” line is nice. Also, they not-so-secretly make signature incenses for other Japanese companies and European markets (like maybe a certain famous French tea concern - not that I would ever want to reveal the actual noses behind any French luxury products.) Two of my favorite moderately priced incenses are Sei-fu (clove and precious woods) and Go-zan (patchouli and spice). Now, if you are delighted by these and you want to move on up to around $50, there are two more that contain at least some percentage of kyara, and they are really gorgeous: Ten-pyo and Misho. Both are seamlessly blended with dark labdanum, musk, spice and plum notes. But of course, once you are there you will think nothing of spending $500 for Sho-Kaku. I just lit a stick so that I could remind myself what it was like for this review. O.K.... I have maybe three sticks total. I am telling you this because kyara is so expensive that there are stories of oud-smuggling gangs killing each other over their remote jungle caches, so now you know I don’t really have that much, and besides I have it hidden in a secret drawer. Anyway... I just leaned into the smoke and mumbled something like... GUHH?!, or maybe it was a kind of gurgling sound that you make before you pass out from happiness.... this one is well into the Holy Grail category and I truly can’t communicate the multidimensional, almost alien quality of it; the smoke has a long use in Tibetan medicine for treating anxiety and inducing exalted meditative states. There are various recent unfounded internet rumors which suggest that due to the almost non-existent world supply of kyara some of these more costly compositions will be reformulated soon or shoot up drastically in price, but so far this is still at the rumor stage. Another rumor has the Saudi royal family burning logs of aloeswood in their incense burner 24/7. In case you are ever in their neighborhood, let me know.
For those who do not fancy lighting incense, but still want to experience the Japanese aesthetic, Shoyeido makes several types of zukoh or “body incense powders.” These are finely ground powders that were originally used by Buddhist monks to rub on their skin prior to rituals, and were eventually drafted into secular use to scent the body and the sleeves of kimonos. I wear Gokuhin, which is based on a traditional formula from the Mt. Koya temple, made of sandalwood, borneo camphor, patchouli, clove and cinnamon. It smells amazingly like Sheldrake’s Borneo 1834, with a deep chocolatey and carmelled wood scent that lingers for hours.
When it comes to the smaller incense houses, I will just mention a few examples that are not too hard to locate:
Minorien Frankincense - a perfect
church incense in a base of sandalwood.
Rei-Reiko - a modestly priced blend
of sandalwood, tumeric and fenugreek,
based on an ancient formulation, and
currently popular in many American
Soto Zen centers. At first is seems
harsh and has some disturbing burnt
mint notes but it settles into a soft
cool musk and wood aura that is
incredibly evocative of old Japan.
It has taken me years to appreciate
how flawless this is.
Byakudan Shirayuki - extra long
black sticks with a very sweet
and delicate sandalwood aroma.
Ranshuko Temple - another
long-burning stick, with a
sandalwood, aloeswood and
spice blend.
If you want to sniff your way through dozens of incense testers you are sadly out of luck, unless you can come to San Francisco where there are two stores that specialize in Japanese incense: Asakichi (in Japantown) and a newer store called Scents of Japan. Kotaro and Jay are the owners of the new store and website and also have a wholesale business which means frequent buying trips where they bring back an ever increasing collection of Japanese sachets, perfume oils and incenses so check out this site, especially for some of the more obscure things.
I have purchased many of my
samples from www.ecclecstacy.com
and they have great trial packs and
collections of samples organized by
notes and by companies, and in a
variety of price ranges. Think of them
as the decanters of the Japanese
incense world.
For further historical information
and more retailers:
Perfumes of the Land and Sea
By Dr. John King
Dr. John King from the UK considers fragrances that
remind him of home and abroad.
Fragrances of the great outdoors have always appealed to me more than
stylized perfumes. The fleeting scents of wind and
water, forests and lakes, sea beaches and driftwood fires –
these have thrilled me more than anything usually found
in a bottle.
But there are exceptions. The perfume industry, led by firms
like Givaudan, have developed the concept of ‘olfactory
scenery’, recreating for example the ambience of the
Mediterranean coastline, or even venturing out over the
rainforest in airships to capture the exotic aromas there.
"This technology (ScentTrek) has enabled true reconstructions
of aspects of our beautiful planet, fragrant memories of the
wilderness which contribute to the success of many of today's
perfumes."
Perfumery has always been about travel, adventure, exotic aromatics from mysterious lands. So the choice
I have in writing about perfumes evocative of places, is vast. All over the globe fragrances are sold to tourists
as unique souvenirs of wherever they are visiting, and to do justice to all these products is impossible.
So I have just singled out a random few which have made an impression on me, with apologies
to the many excellent ones that have been omitted.
England: my home territory
Close to where I live in central
England are the Malvern Hills,
the name deriving from the
ancient British words Moel and
Vern, meaning bare mountain.
They have inspired many
Englishmen, not least our
greatest composer Edward Elgar
(who wrote the patriotic
‘Land of Hope and Glory’).
My mission has always been to
express this landscape in fragrance,
and my first attempt used a pure
aroma chemical from Givaudan,
called vernaldehyde (literally,
mountain aldehyde). A perfume
consisting 100 percent of one
aroma chemical? Yes, but before
you laugh out loud and dismiss
me as eccentric, let me explain
the rationale. I am a medic of the
older generation, drilled into me from student days was the principle: simplicity is elegance. To neatly explain a confusing variety of symptoms with a single diagnosis, to avoid side effects by using a single drug, that was what was considered good practice. And in fact, vernaldehyde used at the correct dosage met with fair success, so maybe it’s not as loopy as it sounds.
Nevertheless, I have not stuck rigidly to that radical position. Like most
perfume enthusiasts, I also enjoy playing around with mixtures in their
infinite variety. Currently I produce a ‘fragrance palette’ of scents typical
of the Malverns, which people can use like an artist uses paints. In
other words they can mix themselves an olfactory impression of a
ramble through the area. Malvern attracts artists of all types so the idea
has gone down well.
By and large therefore, I have come to believe to the virtues of combining.
(And so has everyone else– glance at the supermarket shelves here and
you will see everything comes at least in pairs: Lavender and camomile,
rosemary and coriander, always something and something else )
This is paralleled too in medical practice, where patients these days are
typically on a whole cocktail of drugs – and everyone is happy, especially
the pharmaceutical industry.
The company which has developed fragrance combining into a fine art is
not John King of course, but Jo Malone. One of my favorite brands, Jo
Malone is also backed by one of my favorite supply houses –Symrise,
based in Holzminden, Germany.
If you want a very natural, cool green and earthy aroma, for instance, try
Fig leaf and Cassis. Then add a dash of Malone’s Orange Blossom for
an interesting variation.
Scents of the English hills
Apart from fresh air, grass is the dominant element on the Malverns.
Grass, plus a sprinkling of wild flowers native to the local ecology.
Subtle, almost intangible odours, but how to capture them?
One way would be to persuade Roman Kaiser, the legendary scientist at Givaudan, to fly his zeppelin over to England, with some sampling equipment. It’s nearer than the rainforest, after all. I fear however that this is some way off, though he did advise me on the probable composition of the gorse scent, a shrub common on the hills.
For the time being it’s back to mixing essences drop by drop in my garage. The obvious candidates are flouve and hay oils and absolutes, extracted from wild grasses. But if you make your own fragrances you may have found, as I have done, that these materials are disappointingly difficult to use. They easily give a heavy ‘Christmas pudding’ effect. Vetiver, an oil distilled from a type of grass, is better; you can see it used to good advantage in Guerlain’s Vetiver which has a definite spicy-grassy aspect. Mate is nice if you like a slight smokiness, though can bring an association to cigarettes. Naturally extracted leaf alcohol (cis-hexenol) is very fresh, pungently grassy and valuable in small amounts. Lavender absolute is excellent and versatile, a smooth and mellow hayfields smell which is easy to use and a good friend to the amateur perfumer.
Commercial Foin Coupe notes include l’Artisan’s l’Ete en Douce and Annick Goutal’s Dans les Foins, The Sniffapalooza group were treated to an analysis of the former during the Paris trip, ingredient by ingredient, and a fine fragrance it is too.
But for the all-time best hayfields aroma I have
ever some across, we have to leave the realm
of fine fragrance and go to a humble soap.
My wife still recalls the time when a workman
came to our house to fix a floorboard and demanded
repeatedly to know 'what is that wonderful smell in
your bathroom?' It was Valobra’s fougere soap,
which the ancient Italian house makes according
to traditional methods. Needless to say, I have
laid in a large supply lest it should ever be discontinued.
Moss
The British Isles enjoys (if that is the right word) a cool,
damp and misty climate where mosses thrive. In
perfumery the odour is represented by oakmoss and
treemoss, a chief building block of the chypre family.
There is just one fragrance which says‘moss’ to me
however, and that is Lorenzo Villoresi’s Uomo. It is more
elegant than Ralph Lauren's Polo, lacking the unpleasant
patchouli undertone which accumulates on anyone who wears
the latter. Uomo reminds me that when I was 16,
I had to I had to get down on my hands and knees on biology
field trips to study mosses at close quarters. The name
of one of them is still etched on my
brain: hypnum cupressiforme.
Green perfumes
Although Floral notes dominate perfumery, to my mind green
notes are more interesting – both now and for the future.
Green has come to symbolize everything good, indeed we
even have a green party in English politics.
The example of a green perfume always
quoted is Balmain’s Vent Vert but this is
quite floral too, so let us look at some true
green notes. I have chosen one for its stridency
and the other for its subtlety.
Green, green green…and green By Miller and Bertaux
Here we have a powerfully green fragrance, a single spritz of
which will impact on your consciousness for a long time.
The exact shade of green it represents has provoked plenty
of debate on MakeUpAlley, for example:
"A light, iridescent, shimmering green of late spring."
"A bright, unswervingly cheerful, sweet green."
"A roll down a grassy hill laughing when you're a kid green."
It is bitter-minty at first, with a garden twigs aspect. Later it
becomes fruity in a way which for me stirs recollections of
picking blackberries. Especially the delicious aroma which
later filled the house when blackberry jam was being made.
So plenty of memories out of this bottle, and the box has
an intriquing design into the bargain.
Calamus (Comme des Garcons Series 1: Leaves)
Luckyscent hails Calamus as the crown jewel of all
green scents, redolent of living plants, of freshly
crushed stems and crumpled leaves.
"It’s the scent of a meadow trampled by fairies
and woodsprites" they enthuse, their imagination
running away with them as usual.
Independent reviewers agree, reporting nostalgic associations to
the gardens of their childhood. They perceive a soft and mellow green,
gentle and sweet, "like the milkiness that oozes from a just -popped
dandelion stem". King of England’s verdict? I see a brick outhouse well
stocked with plants, but it’s so realistic that I smell the bricks as well as
the plants. A first class composition in best Comme des Garcons
tradition. It gets the Royal Warrant.
In the next issue:
The fragrant joys of ploughed fields and allotments.
Watery whiffs of the Netherlands. California dreamin’
ScentTrek technology analyses the scented air around a plant without harming it. photo courtesy of Givaudan
Over the rainforest
photo courtesy of Givaudan
Malverne Hills Inspiration
Fragrance Palette
Over the Rainforest
photo courtesy of Givaudan
Grass, the dominant element
Dr. John King
Other photographs courtesy of John King.
A special "thank you" to him for the fascinating article- RB
Pamela Roberts of L'Artisan Parfumeur Paris demonstrates 'Ete Douce.
Over the Rainforest
photo courtesy of Givaudan
Rose and Cavalier About It
By Christopher Voigt
Boys, as you recover from a day spent in front of your 52-inch LCD
watching instant replay and the consumption of much beer and questionable snack foods, hear me loud and clear: come the warmer days of late April and May, stand out and blend in. “Stand out” as in, I’m not taking 45-minutes to get dressed but I’m not ashamed to wear some color.
Hopefully by now, if you have a decent-paying job and a social life, you know that you need a personal shopper at one of the better stores or, at least, a salesperson who can set things aside for you. Too many guys rely on their girlfriends or boyfriends to do this work for them, and quite honestly it just isn’t fair to either party. There’s too much invested. (In fact, industry-secret here, so listen up: if you show a salesperson you’re serious about looking good and you have a budget, they’ll take care of you. Truly, they will.)
Despite the fact that there is tremendous variety in Spring ’08 menswear, there are three things every man should have in his wardrobe for spring: a light gray or umber suit, a faded rose shirt and a scent with some rose in it. A crisp pink shirt under a navy blazer is classic, undying style; but, this season, a man can relax with the lighter colors and doesn't have to run the risk of looking like a fop. That faded pink shirt can work with jeans, with shorts, with a khaki linen vest, and it doesn’t need to be discreetly hidden under a blazer... but the key to the look is not to iron it. You want it to absorb the light not reflect it. You want to say something like, I dress this way all the time. It’s easy.
I’m a firm believer that sex appeal derives from self-assurance. Think back to your sophomore English class and the character of Phineas in A Separate Peace. Neither a pink shirt nor a tie belt –– for all their RL-coöpted status nowadays –– was going to make anyone rethink this guy’s masculinity. Which brings me to the rose note in fragrances... Like carnation, rose is one of those notes which people might think old-fashioned, but, truth be told, most people don’t know that there are rose scents beyond grandma’s mystery fragrance or the little soaps that people put out in the guest bathroom.
Rose has a plethora of expressions, and in many part of the world it is considered a masculine note. There are green-herbal-smelling roses, animalic roses and spicy roses. One of my favorite spicy renditions is Le Labo Rose 31by perfumer Daphne Bugey. But there are also: Rose Poivrée by The Different Company (rose with black pepper and the slight dirtiness of civet), L'Artisan Parfumeur Voleur des Roses
(with sandalwood and patchouli), Le Sirenuse Eau d’Italie Paestum Rose (with incense and rare woods), Parfums 06130 Lierre Rose (v. green with ivy and cardamom), Etat Libre d’Orange Eau de Protection (a new rose chypré), Frédéric Malle Editions de Parfum Une Rose (geraniol at
off-the-charts intensity, truffle and woods), Arabian Oud Prestige Arabia (Tai’fi rose with Laotian oud, saffron and honey) and Ajmal Aquhawan.
By and large, the rose note in the Middle Eastern scents is more subtle than what we are accustomed to smelling. In the West, rose absolute is blended with ylang ylang, jasmine and peony and billed as rose soliflore, and, while the effect can turn heads, it does a disservice to people’s scent memory. Distilled roses are much more complex and green. They capture the terroir and give us a multifaceted picture of the place from
which they came.
A guy’s personal style isn’t that different. Proud of his roots, complex, and fearless of putting the shirt on or revealing what he’s got underneath it. Hopefully, the scent of self-assurance and a heart of gold (though I’ll settle for silver any day...)
Christopher Voigt is fashion advertising copywriter by day, and lover of everything wine- and fragrance-related by night. He is a voracious reader of everything from glossy mags to gossipy Gilded Age romances. Christoher also has his own blog; Vetivresse
"Reprinted from Vetivresse.com with the permission of the author. All rights reserved."
Image credit: Bottega Veneta S/S 08 Menswear Collection. Courtesy of Men.Style.com (Marcio Madiera)
HILDE SOLIANI
By Mark David Boberick
A resident of Parma, Italy, a small,
elegant town her entire life, Hilde Soliani
understands how important culture is to
ensuring a high quality of life. Surrounded
by good food, good wine, good music
(Giuseppe Verdi is one of her favorites),
and good fragrances, Soliani has
imparted these truly Parmesan values
into her art for over a decade. Ever since
leaving a successful Marketing Managerial
Career several years ago, she has poured
her creativity into her paintings, her
jewelry, and most especially –
her fragrances.
“When I was a child, my grandmother
taught me how to create perfume –
mainly how to create organic essential
oils, how to recognize if they are good
and bad and how they change when they
are mixed.
I respect the recipes of my grandmother, but I am always trying to be innovative. I very much enjoy traveling around the world looking for new emotions and raw materials.”
Hilde Soliani did not always want to make fragrances, even though she greatly admired them. In fact, the idea wasn’t even in her head until a journalist put it there. “During a press conference for my first line of jewelry, I showed a line of candles for Valentine’s Day that each included a gold and diamond daisy necklace inside. To wear it you would have to burn half of the candle. The journalist asked me if the candle was perfumed and of course it wasn’t.” The question stayed with Soliani until one terribly rainy day when she decided to look for the old recipes of her grandmother. “She did La Mia Daisy. We loved the same flower,” Soliani says. The decision to create a fragrance line was soon born and Hilde set about searching for its concept.
“Inspiration can come to
me at any time from
anywhere. Sometimes
it can be a flower, a
particular flavor at a
restaurant, sometimes
noise inside of the theatre
or on the street.” In this
case, it was the flower -
Actually, 5 of them.
The line, called Ti Amo
(I Love You, in Italian) has
a fragrance for every letter -
Tulipo, Iris, Anemone
(Wildflower), Margherita
(Daisy), and Ortensia
(Hortensia).
They are not
designed to be
reproductions of natural
scents, but rather
abstract portraits of the
flowers – the emotions
felt by Soliani in their
presence. “I hate to
emulate nature
because I believe it is perfect. I want to create something different
that is the reproduction of what I feel in that moment -
something that I appreciated and want others to feel the same”
With Tulipo, perhaps the most abstract of the bunch since the actual flower has no
smell; Soliani was taken by the small Sicilian island of Vulcano. The fragrance is the
olfactory image of the bright sun, the black sand beaches, the crystal cold water,
the hot air, and the small red flowers near the volcanic rocks by the sea.
Tulipo is a scent made for men and women, alike. The fruity opening includes notes
of lime and peach, but soon gives in to sensual cocktail of florals and finally – a
sophisticated base of sandalwood, vetiver, and musk’s. For an artist, color is paramount –
it is the force that drives the work – even if the work is devoid of it. When asked
how Tulipo might have been a different scent if the flowers were yellow or white,
Soliani responds, “Perhaps it would have told me nothing.”
Soliani calls her Iris a “fantasy” fragrance. “I was not looking for a sole accord.
It needed to represent the security and elegance of the person as they start to
say to their lover, ‘Ti Amo.’
Iris is very romantic but at the same time very contemporary.
"Another fragrance designed for both men and women,
Soliani used Sicilian almond along with a heady dose of
organic iris to guarantee this wasn’t an Iris scent you’ve come
across before. It is one of the most interesting, artistic expressions
of the note that I have encountered. The lasting power is superb
and Soliani claims that many a business man has been stopped
by a co-worker when wearing Hilde Soliani’s magnificent Iris.
For Soliani, finding a new way of creating classical fragrances is
extremely important. She wants delicate scents that always have
truly artistic feeling, “As if to say ‘I am here. You notice me, but I
don’t disturb you.’” Soliani has finished her 5 fragrance Love Story,
but she is hard at work on her next range inspired by the Teatro
Reggio in Parma. Soliani’s sense of Abstract Expressionism should
prove to be a perfect fit when taking on this project. The Theatre is
new territory for scent. Perhaps instead of wearing scent to the
theatre, we can now have it the other way around.
The entire Ti Amo collection is currently sold exclusively at
New London Pharmacy in New York City and can be purchased from
their website www.newlondonpharmacy.com
The Duir Way
By Roxana Villa
"I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues."
- Dr. Suess
Have you ever tracked what you love, what inspires you, makes your soul sing?
Recently I discovered a deep reverence for the mighty Oak, which unknowingly
opened the portal to a series of botanical perfumes. Since purchasing our home
in Spring 2000, my partner and I patiently awaited the right moment to buy the
empty lot next to us.
To our horror the neighbor turned around and sold the tiny, substandard lot to
a developer. Our intention was to preserve the oak trees and create an indigenous
garden. The intention of the developer was to take out all the trees and construct a
3500 square foot palace. We had always been told that oak trees were protected.
Indeed, Los Angeles has something called "The Protected Tree Ordinance",
however, the ordinance means basically nothing when it comes to a developer
wanting to build.
In the same parallel universe, I had begun a perfume based on Beltane. Beltane is an
ancient Celtic/Druid holy day occurring on May 1st. On the eve of Beltane, I went out
and gathered leaves from a large coastal live oak with the intention that the trees would
stay firmly rooted and thrive. I mindfully cleaned the leaves and tinctured them as the
perfume base. While the tincture marinated I created a wood chord of sixteen different
essential oils, absolutes and C02 extractions. After filtering the tinctured leaves I began
building the perfume, first with the wood chord and then adding other notes until the
fragrance was complete. Pondering what to call the perfume I settled on “Q” for
Quercus, which is the botanical name for Oak.
As I write this the four large oaks and several other small ones on the lot are still standing.
We have gone before our local Specific Plan Board several times insisting that the trees
must not be endangered or cut down. Each time we have won. In the meantime I have
gotten involved with several local community groups, our neighborhood has been united
and we have all learned a great deal. I now look at our native Oaks and the surrounding
landscape with new eyes. I have learned the value of an authentic landscape. Did you
know that all those palm trees that have become symbolic of LA are non-native?
I bow to the mighty oak and all they continue to teach me. If the challenge with the
neighbor had never presented itself I may not have become an active proponent of
Oaks and native plants. Sometimes our nemesis can facilitate a clear path to what
we love and are here to do.
A portion of the proceeds from the purchase a 1/4 oz bottle of our “Q” perfume
goes to the California Oak Foundation.
“Q” was the first in a perfume series titled “Californica”, honoring the aromatic landscape
of the State of California.
Roxana melds her love of nature into an authentic self-expression as a visual and
aromatic artist. Visit her website at: www.illuminatedperfume.com
