Orange You Glad: By Kilian Sweet Redemption

By Donna My opinion of the By Kilian fragrances in the L’Oeuvre Noire collection is pretty evenly divided along style lines of those I have tried so far - I love the more “feminine” and sweeter ones like Love and Beyond Love, but Liaisons Dangereuses and Cruel Intentions left me cold. The latest launch, Sweet Redemption, said to be the last in this particular series, is aligned with the former group and for me it was instant affinity. It’s very well done and it pulls together several of my favorite perfume ingredients; the listed notes on Luckyscent are orange blossom, vanilla, myrrh, opopanax, benzoin and incense, so it may as well be a Christmas shopping list for my nose. It is immediately likable and downright friendly. It’s not often that orange and myrrh make an appearance together, but it most certainly does work. The dominant note throughout is orange blossom in all its high-pitched sweetness with just a touch of leafy bitterness for balance, and it carries the melody even as the opening deepens into the heart and the opopanax and myrrh come into their own. Vanilla ties it all up in a gourmand bow, but this perfume has a solid base of resinous materials that keeps it from being a mere trifle, and the base is very tenacious. (It’s a good thing I am a fan of opopanax!) In fact, it reminded me a lot of two vintage classics that have not been around for a very long time, Robert Piguet’s Baghari and the marvelous L’Origan by Coty from 1905. Some time ago I acquired a precious micro-mini bottle of vintage 1950 Baghari extrait de parfum, which was that rarest of beasts, an orange chypre, and magnificent it is. Rich and a bit powdery with a true chypre base, this is a gem from the past that has now been reformulated and brought back by the new owners of Piguet. The re-orchestrated Baghari introduced in 2006, although very good, lacks the narcotic depth of the original, while Sweet Redemption has an echo of that mesmerizing character in both the orange and the resins, although it is not a chypre. I also have a little sample of L’Origan extrait that was given to me by a perfume friend, and its powdery depth and heavenly orange blossom made me realize yet again what a great perfumer François Coty was and what a shame it is that his great old formulas have either fallen away completely or else reformulated ever more cheaply over the years until they can no longer be recognized. Sweet Redemption has some of that unforgettable beauty of the L’Origan of old, and for that alone I would like to own a bottle Alas, buying a bottle of this could be problematic, as the By Kilian line is expensive; 50 ml of the Eau de Parfum goes for $225 USD on Luckyscent. Plain refill bottles are available for $125, but then you don’t get the special satin-lined box and the heavy, artsy bottle. Travel size sprays are available at the By Kilian Web site. Image credit: “Chiyogami Orange Blossom” pattern Japanese paper from amazingpaper.com.au Disclosure: My sample was obtained free from Luckyscent as part of a promotional giveaway when Sweet Redemption was released.

By Kilian Incense Oud Perfume Review

By Marina Tell me if, upon hearing the name, Incense Oud, you did not immediately imagine a powerhouse of a scent. I certainly was bracing myself for a double impact. Let's face it, neither note is exactly quiet. And since both are usually very dominant in any composition they are in, I was looking forward to witness quite a temperamental drama unfold. Well, The Taming of the Shrew (or my favorite version, an Italian take on the classic, Il Bisbetico Domato, with Adriano Celentano and Ornella Muti) sort of passionate love-hate scenario was only in my head. The incense and the oud of the new By Kilian fragrance are existing in utter harmony, possibly because both are utterly understated. Perhaps Katharina and Petruchio (or Elia and Lisa) would've become like that, having learned to accept each other's idiosyncrasies, after years of living together. Perhaps not. In any case, Incense Oud is a soft, warm, cuddly blanket of a scent, as comforting as they come. I would say that incense is somewhat stronger than oud, however, the strongest accord to me is neither of the title ones, but a sandalwoody-ambery blend, which I can smell as soon as the first wonderful hit of spicy, slightly medicinal incense-oud mix in the top notes settles. That medicinal, vaguely valerian-like beginning is my favorite part of the perfume; the comforting base, however, is a delight too. I don't know if I am prepared to pay that much for a comfort scent though, since there are other options available. Would it be like paying the price of a mink throw for a snugglie? Having said all that, this is a graceful scent, masterfully blended with a light hand. I would be curious to hear whether you were disappointed to encounter such a less is more approach in a perfume with incense and oud, from an Arabiain Nights collection or found an understated approach refreshing. Available at Luckyscent and Bergdorf Goodman, $395.00 for 1.7oz.

Winter Roses. Comforting East: By Kilian Rose Oud, Keiko Mecheri Attar des Roses

By Marina "You love the roses - so do I. I wish The sky would rain down roses, as they rain From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valley would be pink and white And soft to tread on. They would fall as light As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!" Roses by George Eliot I woke up on January 1, 2011 with a craving for rose perfumes. I don't know where it came from, when for a couple of years I have been suffering from an affliction similar to that of Bulgakov's Pilate ("More than anything in the world the procurator loathed the smell of rose oil, and everything now pointed to a bad day, since that smell had been pursuing him since dawn.") and shied away not only from rose "soliflores" but from blends as well. Wherever the cure of my anti-rose "disease" came from, it clearly was a part of some kind of larger phenomenon, since other incidents of rose-perfume-cravings were reported simultaneously in the beginning of this month, for example, by our own Donna and by Victoria of Bois de Jasmin. Also, birds were falling from the sky and fish were washed ashore... In any case...Victoria is also to thank for my discovery of Rose Oud. My reluctance to try the new By Kilian was threefold: a) it had a prominent rose note (see above), b) ouds have become trite c) rose ouds have become even more trite. What new can something unimaginatively called Rose Oud add to the genre, I wondered. As it turns out, not much, really, in terms of breaking any kind of new ground in the oud land. But what it does add is delight to the life of its wearer. It is just so...pretty and wearable and delicious, it's impossible not to like it. Nothing complex here: roses + oud + a gourmand undertone, but each of the three components is impeccable, done just right. The roses are dark-pink and oozing nectar. The oud is not going to knock you over with the sharp animalic feel I usually look for in ouds, but it does possess just enough of the beast to serve as a perfect contrast to the beauty of the rose. And then there is this soft, fluffy-creamy...something, a certain edible characteristic not unlike that of White Aoud, perhaps in the mix of cardamom and vanilla...something that makes you unsure whether you want to sniff the spot on your wrist where you sprayed Rose Oud or gnaw on it just a little bit. Like White Aoud, it is a comfort scent to me. Keiko Mecheri's Attar des Roses is also comforting. Less creamy/vanillic, it still has a fairly edible feel about it, due to the wonderfully "candied" quality of the rose accord. It is as if the petals received the same delicious treatment, which slices of citrus fruits often do, by being generously coated with little crystals of sugar. The accord is set against a drier, leathery one, and that prevents the blend from becoming too sweet. The ambery drydown retains some of the leather and a lot of the rose, giving the composition a nicely rounded effect, both in conceptual and olfactory terms. It is more floral, compared to Rose Oud, and might be a great option for someone not comfortable with ouds (or the price), but seeking the same mood and feel. Rose Oud is available at Luckyscent, $395.00 for 50ml, Attar des Roses at keikomecheri.com, $115.00 for 75ml.

Killing me Softly: By Kilian Rose Oud

By Tom I've been resistant to By Kilian. It's really all my issue. I do admit that the scents are nice but the level of twee is cranked up to about 11 with the packaging with the little keys. That and Kilian Hennessy makes me feel fat. (I told you it was my issue) Then he started moving into Oud. Oud is I believe the new wood, or perhaps the new fruit. Previously having been the seeming provence of only the house of Montale, it seems like everyone and his brother have a new scent featuring the ingredient. Soon at a Sephora near you: Infectious by Sean John. By Killian Pure Oud is lovely, but forgive me if I write that there are a few others out there that are doing the same thing for a little less money? Rose Oud treads a different path. Roses are often grafted to sturdier root stock to get healthier flowers. The mix of Caron-like cabbage roses and Agarwood is so seamless as to be as if the roses grew directly from the wood, sucking up the oud and radiating it along with the delicious sweet rose, saffron and cardamom. It isn't something I would buy for myself if only because of the price point: a shade less than $400 for 50ML is a little more that I want to put out, and I have a feeling that there are a few other less pricey, less opulently packaged scents that have treaded this part of the garden. But if this is in your budget, go for it. Available at all places that sell By Killian. I got my sample by asking for it at ScentBar.

Encountering Kilian: On Pretension and Back to Black Aphrodisiac

By Alyssa Long, long, ago, back around, oh, 2007 or so, a young man by the name of Kilian took his gothic complexion, a killer pair of cheekbones and a modest portion of his inherited fortune and invested them all in a perfume company. And we laughed. Remember that? Remember the Le Prix Eau Faux-inspiring introductory sales copy re-uniting Baudelaire and Snoop Dogg at long last? Then there was the accompanying press photo (see above) featuring said complexion and cheekbones, and reminding one ever so slightly of Edward Scissorhands or, more recently, of pretty teenage vampires.* We laughed some more. When we were not laughing we were outraged. The prices! The ridiculous packaging! (Lacquered boxes! A key for god’s sakes!) The sheer pretension of it all! And then, well, damn it if some of the perfume wasn’t pretty good. So some of us laughed a little less. And some of us, like me, raged a little more, and refused to smell the stuff on principle. (The principle of saving my money for other perfume.) But then Denyse wrote one of her patented perfumerotica** reviews of Back to Black and Pure Oud over on Grain de Musc, and Patti over on Perfume Posse agreed, and when I came across the By Kilian counter in Bergdorf Goodman’s on recent trip to New York I found myself walking over with a sheepish grin to ask for a sniff or two. “Are you familiar with our line?” asked the beautiful young SA, blonde and gracious, with an Eastern European accent I couldn’t quite place. I hemmed and hawed. Yes, I said, I knew of the line, but no, I hadn’t actually smelled much of it up until now because, well… Then came one of those moments in my life, of which there are rather too many, when I hear myself talking and wonder when on earth I will stop. Because, with much awkward laughter, and no doubt blushing, too, I was explaining that it had taken me a long time to explore the line because of my initial reaction to copy/price/ packaging etc. Somewhere in there, I used the word “posturing.” “But what is this ‘posturing’?” said the SA, puzzled, but not unfriendly. “I am Albanian. Perhaps I do not understand the English. Posture is a good thing, yes? It means to stand up straight?” Oh god, could this get any more awkward? Now I had to explain my rudeness. “Well,” I managed, “some of us”—not just me, really!—“found the ad copy a little pretentious. Posturing as in posing. Striking a pose. Being false.” “But I am not posing!” she cried, horrified. “Oh, no, no, no, no” I hastened to reassure her. “This is not about you. You don’t have anything to do with how the line is marketed! That’s all up to the PR people. And to Kilian himself, I assume.” “Ah, I see,” she said. “But Kilian is very nice!” Apparently it could get more awkward. “Ah, I see,” I repeated back to her. “You’ve met him.” “Oh, yes!” she said. “He comes to visit me every now and then.” And then she said, with what I swear was a twinkle in her eye: “Would you like to meet him? He is standing right over there.” And that, dear friends, is how I met Kilian Hennessy (who is tiny, but otherwise looks exactly like his photo, and who really is very nice, though a little tetchy about the whole Amy Winehouse/Back to Black connection, which must be a question he gets a lot). It is also how I made my New Year’s Resolution to keep my own posturing to a minimum—or at least as private as possible— in 2010. And last, but not least, it is how I met the lovely Bukurije Bardhoshi, who has an excellent sense of humor in addition to her own set of killer cheekbones and who very graciously gave me a sample of Back to Black after I was done talking to Mr. H. Please. Someone out there on the verge of buying something Kilian, go buy it from her, and tell her I sent you. Because I cannot. Buy something, that is. It would be true justice and the best ending to this story to say it was love at first sniff between me and BtB and I’m on my way to get my very own lacquered box. In fact, I’ve been holding on to this post, testing and re-testing, waiting for Aphrodisiac to reveal its magic so I could have that ending. (Maybe when it’s colder? Maybe on a rainy day? Maybe when I’m in a different mood?) I expected to love it. And I smell in it many bits of things I already love: the honeyed, apple-pie opening of Ambre Narguile (though BtB has rather more tobacco), the pipe tobacco and mysterious smoky syrup of Fumerie Turque (though BtB is sweeter, and not so dark), the raw-honey and vanilla of Botrytis, some of the waxy fruitiness that opens Bois de Paradis, a bit of the dusky phase (imortelle?) from Songes, and even a touch of the unbeloved (by me) but fascinating funky hawthorn from Miel de Bois. Alas, Back to Black does not, as those perfumes do, meld with my skin and surround me in a warm glow that makes comfort a sexy thing. Instead, it just sits there, ignoring me. I might as well be walking around with a huge, overscented candle in my purse. And, heresy of heresies, there are moments when BtB’s waxiness veers perilously close to vanilla Yankee Candle. I also regret to say that on the mornings after I apply—it lasts forever—I often detect something bitter and slightly chemical behind the sweetness. So. More for the rest of you who find it purring and stretching and doing all kinds of other unspeakably delicious things on your skin—just drop a note in the comments if you’d like to be in the draw for my sample. I’m holding out for some more Bois des Iles in parfum. Vintage please, if you’ve got it. *Has anyone noticed that make-up wunderkind Edward Bess is working exactly the same pretty vampire look? Or is it just me? **Update: until this post went up I was unaware that fellow PST contributor Beth Gehring had been using the term "perfumerotica" since last May as the title of her beautiful blog over on www.perfumerotica.com. Beth writes that she is also "hard at work on a magazine, book and lifestyle store of the same name" where she will make "beautiful, luxuiant and passionate items" available to all. Stay tuned to her blog for future info! Image © By Kilian. Available via German Vogue and half-a-zillion other places around the internet. The one that used to be on the NST announcement post has disappeared.