Digging the Dirt: Indolice by Providence Perfume Co

By Marina If mushrooms were flowers, if jasmine shrubs were subterranean, this is how they would smell. If ever roots of a jasmine instead of jasmine petals have inspired a perfume, I imagine that Indolice is such a perfume...In Cepes & Tuberose, mushrooms were edible, and there certainly is a lot of that umami flavor here too, in the beginning of the scent, with herbs, basil and cilantro adding to the savory effect. In Cuir et Champignon, they were elegant, unexpectedly fitting in the composition of a leathery chypre. In Charna Ethier's creation, mushrooms are probably the most as nature intended- earthy. Interestingly, that earthiness becomes the most prominent in the heart, where the jasmine accord acquires its strength. The jasmine (three different types of night blooming jasmine, according to Providence Perfume Co.) here is breathtakingly indolic. The unapologetic skankiness of the note will take your breath away. If, like me, you belong to the group of skank-seekers (thrill-seekers?) in perfume, if you like your jasmine outrageously dirty, you might have found the holy grail in Indolice. Somehow, the indolic nature of jasmine brings out the earthiness in mushrooms. In return, the raw, fleshy accord highlights further the animalic quality of jasmine. The two bring out the worst in each other. And when I say, worst, I mean it in a very good way. Let's not forget the oakmoss, and a lot of it, which, of course, also piles up the earth in the composition. Mushrooms and oakmoss are layered in Incolice like puff pastry sheets in some unimaginable Napoleon tart, the layers held together by richly ripe creaminess of jasmine. Why do we enjoy a cheese that smells like body odor?- asks Stacey Slate in an article, Why We Love Stinky Cheese. She maintains that "our attraction to stinky cheeses reflects part of our human nature" and that "for enthusiasts of this type of cheese, its bodily odor activates our 'cheese pheromones.”' Can it be that skanky flowers like jasmine (or tuberose, gardenia and even orange blossom, which can be indolic) are so irresistibly attractive because their aroma is also perceived as human? And thus the dirtier they are, the more "like us" they are and the more impact they have? What say you? Indolice can be found at Providence Perfume Co., $20.00-$98.00, depending on the size. Samples of this must-try are also available. Image source, hiltonpond.org.

Annick Goutal Myrrhe Ardente: Perfume Review

So apparently I jinxed the weather. Time to dig out comfort scents, I guess. And you know how it happens sometimes that you have a very vague idea of what you want, and think that nothing can possibly fit that idea, and then the first thing you smell is exactly what you are looking for? I had a feeling I wanted something sweet but dry, smoky but not tarry, something comforting but weird. And voila! A random spritz of Myrrh Ardente was, miraculously, all that. Tonka bean and benzoin compliment the honeyed side of myrrh, turning the composition, in the first stages of its development, into something almost gourmand. The abundance of dark, dry, resinous wood enhances myrrh's smokiness. Midway through its development, that aspect is so strong that it becomes almost leathery but never steps into the tar territory. Then the soft, nutty sweetness of tonka softens the smoky effect, and as soon as the composition seems to have become tamed down and downright cuddly, the weird part happens. In the role of twist, of that jolie laide quality that turns a good, well-balanced perfume into an interesting perfume here is...well, myrrh itself, or more particularly its raw, mushroomy characteristic. Paired with the sweetness and the smoke, the rawness is striking and incredibly appealing. I think, it's the beginning of a beautiful, cold and rainy weather friendship for Myrrhe Ardente and moi. Available at Saks and Bloomingdales, $135.00-$175.00, but "masculine" bottles seem to be sold for much less at some online retailers. Image is by Guy Bourdin.

L'Artisan Parfumeur Havana Vanille: Perfume Review

If I were to come up with a two-word description for Havana Vanille à la Perfumes: The Guide, I would have opted for strange vanilla or raw vanilla or bearded vanilla or thinking person's vanilla (OK, that's three words). Which is to say that I think that Havana Vanille is odd, it smells raw/rooty/earthy, is not girly by any stretch of imagination and, like most Duchaufour's creations, is cerebral. I am not sure to which combination of ingredients to attribute the remarkably raw quality of the composition. My guess is that it is immortelle and narcissus which lend Havana Vanille the haunting aroma of something freshly dug out of clean, moist soil...of something "dirty" in a vegetable-mineral, not animalic sense. This raw component is more predominant, on my skin, then the title note of vanilla. The latter is, of course, present at all times, but isn't quite like its usual self. It's not sweet and it's not even abstractly gourmand. The very slightly tarry leather, the smoky woods, the boozy rum note lead to a sort of androgen excess in the vanilla accord. I would not label the scent as "masculine", but neither is it in any way "feminine". Let's call it androgynous. This might easily be one of the most interesting recent releases and certainly the most unusual vanilla fragrance that I have ever encountered. If I had to compare it to another perfume, I'd say that it vaguely reminds me of Duchaufour's raw masterpiece from last year, Baume du Doge...with a lot of smoky, dirty and drunken vanilla added to the mix. Havana Vanille is available wherever L'Artisan is sold, $115.00-$155.00; the fragrance has been renamed and is now called Vanille Absolument. Image credit, Ellen Von Unwerth

Baume du Doge by Eau d'Italie: Perfume Review

Inspired by Venice, once legendary gateway to the Orient with all its exotic spices, Baume du Doge is, not surprisingly, a piquant creation, bursting with the golden tang of saffron and cardamom, smoldering with the crimson fire of cloves. It is - surprisingly- also a very earthy perfume. And yes, earthy is Duchaufour's forte, but, in my opinion, the raw quality of Baume du Doge surpasses anything else done by him so far. Saffron and, to a lesser degree, cardamom do have a very raw undertone in their spiciness, a dark, soil-like element that naturally contrasts the brightness of the spicy aromas. Nature is a gifted perfumer after all, and loves a good contrast. So really, the earthy aspect of Baume du Doge is only to be expected, especially if you take into account that the blend also includes the earthy-green-aniseedic fennel and earthy-balsamic myrrh. The latter, combined with sweet orange note in the top notes and vanilla in the base, lends a well-rounded, rich, opaque and creamy feeling to Baume de Doge, softens the sharpness of spices, tames the earthy element, bringing the fragrance to the almost-edible, patchouli-like territory and putting a finishing exotic touch on this understatedly oriental tapestry. The restrained exoticism displayed by Baume du Doge is characteristic to Duchafour's art as is the indescribable, indefinable oddness of the composition. Strangely beautiful or beautifully strange, it has a haunting quality, something that makes you want to keep re-sniffing and analyzing and wondering. A thinking person's perfume. Available at Lafco and Luckyscent, $130.00 for 100ml. Image source, krasivoefoto.ru

Hilde Soliani Stecca: Perfume Review

There is no fragrance more joyous, comforting and poignant than that of tomato vines. No fruit more bright and cheerful visually than tomato. No taste more summery. The whole plant is a delight to the senses. Hilde Soliani's Stecca is an ode to tomato leaf. It is green, fresh, rooty- as true to the smell of the actual vines and leaves as it gets. As it develops and the earthiness subsides a little, one can sense the aroma of fruits themselves; this slightly sweeter and simultaneously salty, juicy note make Stecca softer and, for the lack of a better word, airier, less earth-bound than CB I Hate Perfume's earthy-green masterpiece Memory of Kindness. There isn't much to describe in terms of development: it is the smell of tomato plant in its entirety, earthier and greener in the beginning, somewhat riper n the middle, fresher in the base. The most pleasurable things in life are simple. Stecca is the smell (not a perfume, as in Proper Perfume, but smell) of uncomplicated, childish happiness. Among his Elementary Odes, Pablo Neruda has the Ode to Tomato, and I will leave you to savor it: The street filled with tomatoes midday, summer, light is halved like a tomato, its juice runs through the streets. In December, unabated, the tomato invades the kitchen, it enters at lunchtime, takes its ease on countertops, among glasses, butter dishes, blue saltcellars. It sheds its own light, benign majesty. Unfortunately, we must murder it: the knife sinks into living flesh, red viscera, a cool sun, profound, inexhaustible, populates the salads of Chile, happily, it is wed to the clear onion, and to celebrate the union we pour oil, essential child of the olive, onto its halved hemispheres, pepper adds its fragrance, salt, its magnetism; it is the wedding of the day, parsley hoists its flag, potatoes bubble vigorously, the aroma of the roast knocks at the door, it's time! come on! and, on the table, at the midpoint of summer, the tomato, star of earth, recurrent and fertile star, displays its convolutions, its canals, its remarkable amplitude and abundance, no pit, no husk, no leaves or thorns, the tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness. (translated by Margaret Sayers Peden) Stecca is available at New London Pharmacy, $175.00 for 100ml. Other posts dealing with tomato vines and garden theme: CB I Hate Perfume. Secret History Series Perfume Review: CB I Hate Perfume Memory of Kindness The Smell of the Garden Saint Parfum “Tomato Vine” Image source, allposters.com

Mona di Orio Amyitis: Perfume Review

Inspired by the Hanging Gardens of Babylon built by Nebuchadnezzar II for his Queen Amyitis, homesick for the greener and more fruitful Media, Mona di Orio's fifth creation is a spicy, aromatic and earthy take on the green perfume genre. The pungent, peppery aroma of savory and capsicum and the sweet spiciness of caraway dominate the top notes. The presence of a green accord and, and later on, of moss, make the spices smell earthy, as if ground with black, fertile soil. Iris and violet, the floral notes that have a pronounced rooty aspect, continue the earthy theme in the heart of Amyitis. Woods and amber lend the fragrance rich balsamic darkness, while saffron intensifies the sweetly piquant aspect of the composition. Add to that the powdery, rounded softness of oponax, which smoothes the sharp edges of the spicy, green and resinous ingredients, and you have a complex, long-playing perfume, an exotic and quirky distant relative of the classic green-rooty beauty, Chanel No 19. Available at Aedes, $120.00-$200.00. Our past reviews of Mona di Orio's fragrances: Nuit Noire, Carnation, Lux and Oiro. Image is by Michael David Adams.

Perfume Review: CB I Hate Perfume Wild Hunt

I love the handful of the earth you are. Pablo Neruda Christopher Brosius is the master of earthy accords. Think of the terrifyingly realistic smell of cold, wet soil and despair, Black March. Or the poignant and strangely comforting aroma of tomato vines and clean earth, Memory of Kindness. The Earthy Triumvirate is completed with Wild Hunt. Brosius describes the perfume as "the scent of an ancient forest in the heat of a summer afternoon". Of all the earthy fragrances created by CB, this one is the least melancholy. Joyously robust and bucolic, it takes me to a forest glade surrounded by tall trees, which, in the bright sunlight do not look in the least menacing. It leaves me there lying in tall grass, inhaling the sharp aromas of earth, leaves and moss, staring in the azure abyss of the sky, feeling relaxed and a little unnerved by the magnificence and immortality of nature and by my own insignificance and transience. An existentialist perfume, one might say. As for what exactly it smells like...it is green and earthy and, although not complicated, actually impossible to describe. Try it for yourself, I highly recommend it. Available at cbihateperfume.com, $17.00-$85.00.

Perfume Review: Vero Kern Onda

Continuing with the theme of earthy perfumes for spring, today I am talking about one of my relatively recent discoveries in the genre, Onda by Vero Kern. Swiss perfumer, whom Andy Tauer reverently calls his mentor, Vero Kern started Vero Profumo with three fragrances, of which Onda is my favorite. With notes of vetiver, ginger, mace and coriander, Onda is described by the creator as "a flying carpet that takes us to the secret places of our deepest longings". My perception of the perfume is less exotic. Perfectly representing the green, earthy and, for the lack of a better word, almost bready smell of vetiver, Onda is a rustic scent for me. It is the smell of freshly ploughed earth, of hay, of wet grass, of wooden houses, of peat, of smoke in a chimney... A comforting scent, an urban person's vision of bucolic utopia. Another aspect of Onda that should not be left unmentioned is its sensuality. It must be the spices that infuse the no-nonsense vetiver note with warmth and indolence and, yes, "deep longing". So put together "rustic" and "sensual" and what we have in Onda is another perfume for Lady Chatterley. Onda can be found at veroprofumo.com, $145.00-$230.00. Samples sets of the three scents are also available, for $20.00. Photograph is by Arthur Elgort.

Perfume Review: Neil Morris Dark Earth

"Winter kept us warm, covering earth in forgetful snow". Spring came, and there is a raw, poignant smell in the air, the smell of life beginning anew only to end all too soon. I feel vulnerable in spring. And nothing expresses that feeling better, in olfactory terms, than earthy perfumes. The earthy fragrance extraordinaire is Christopher Brosious's genius creation, Black March. It is too disturbingly realistic for me, the smell of freshly dug grave. Not a scent I can wear. Not even one that I dare to re-visit. Neil Morris's Dark Earth smells wonderfully real too, evoking the aroma of bare, moist spring soil, spread bare, taut in the effort "to breed lilacs" out of its fertile depths. But realistic as it is, Dark Earth is also fairly stylized. Black March is a smell of earth. Dark earth is a perfume about earth. It is a happier scent for me, heralding the new beginning rather than the end of the world. The joyous feel of Dark Earth might possibly stem from the fact that it has certain sweetness. And the powdery finish in the base, which to me is a trademark of (many) Morris's scents, is that welcome reminder that this is, after all, a perfume. And I Love Perfume. Dark Earth is one of the Vault fragrances. According to neilmorrisfragrances.com, the Vault fragrances will be available online in April 2008. Right now, you can order them over the phone or via email. "Each two-ounce spray bottle of Parfum is made in small quantities signed by Neil and retails for $150.00 plus shipping. Samples of each fragrance are also available for $4.00 plus shipping. " The painting is by Erte.

Perfume Review: Hermes Terre d'Hermes

Experience taught me that it is better not to have high hopes for new perfume releases, no matter how exciting their descriptions. I also know the danger of trying to foresee (foresmell?) the way an upcoming fragrance would actually smell. In reality, many new launches either can’t live up to one’s high expectations or are completely different from what one envisaged them to be. Terre d’Hermes turned out to be an exception to this Rule of Low Expectations in that it was as good as I hoped it would be and smelled more or less exactly as I imagined it would smell. I must add that, although marketed by Hermes as a masculine scent, Terre d’Hermes is most decidedly and delightfully unisex. Described as a “vegetable and mineral” fragrance, “made without animal by-products or musk”, Terre d’Hermes has a simple, uncluttered composition. On my skin all notes are apparent at once and stay that way from start to finish, and yet this lack of development does not make the scent seem uninteresting. I must also add that when I say “all notes”, I really mean the four that are most evident on my skin: grapefruit, vetiver, pepper and what I call an “earth” accord. The latter is a raw, rooty combination of cedar, benzoin and patchouli, but the blend is so smooth, it is hard to tell where the cedar ends and the patchouli begins; I perceive this combination as a single note evoking moist, clean, black soil and grey rounded stones that are cool to the touch. I have never been a big fan of grapefruit, especially in combination with pepper, but here it somehow works absolutely wonderfully. Grapefruit, vetiver and pepper balance and compliment each other, they are sparkly, spicy, they have a kick, they have a bite and yet they are also remarkably calm and serene. Chandler Burr assessed Terre d’Hermes perfectly when he called it “quietly remarkable”. The fragrance is simple and elegant, light yet somehow satisfyingly “substantial” all at the same time. Terre d’Hermes is the proof that, when done right, with subtlety and style, in other words, when done by Jean-Claude Ellena, less definitely becomes more. Says Pablo Neruda: “When I lived among the roots, They pleased me more than flowers did, And when I spoke to a stone, It rang like a bell.” Terre d’Hermes is available at Hermes.com, $90.00 for 3.3oz. *The first image is from Hermes.com, the second from istockphoto.com. *** An afterthought and further proof of the wonderfullness of Terre d'Hermes: seldom do we all agree so much on a perfume; for other very positive reviews of this scent, please read Bois de Jasmin, Now Smell This, Peppermint Patty and Scentzilla.