Snow Rose by Floris

By Marina In creating Snow Rose, Floris took inspiration "from a sunlit unfolding of warmly scented rose petals crystallised within a winter wonderland." This describes quite perfectly Will Ryman's Roses installation on Park Ave. in Manhattan, which, thanks to the non-stop snowpocalypse we've been having, has been covered in snow all winter, and thus, by default, became Snow Roses for the season. They are not scented, but if they were, this is how they could smell. With it's powdery feel and soft vanillic base, Snow Rose is a comfort scent, and goodness knows, one needs comfort during blizzards. There is a subtle burst of green in the top notes, but I wouldn't call this verdancy cold. It is a winter rose for me exactly because it is warm, not icy. Nor would I like a cold rose anyway. I appreciate how delicately the powdery quality is done in the composition. On a powderiness scale from 1 to 10, where Talco Delicato is 9 and Teint de Neige 13, Snow Rose is about 6. Which is just right. I am surprised not to see orris among the listed ingredients; to me, the powdery feel of Snow Rose has a certain raw, vaguely earthy characteristic that I usually associate with the note. Sandalwood and vanilla in the drydown are a simple delight. Everything about this perfume is uncomplicatedly lovely and comfy. A comfort scent done with so much understated grace perhaps could only have come from an English brand. My sample of it arrived, fittingly, from England too, kindly sent by Vanessa, who writes one of my favorite blogs, Bonkers About Perfume. In her review of Snow Rose, Vanessa called the scent, "fluffy", which to me is a quality of a comfort scent and thus solidifies the status of Snow Rose as such. Snow Rose is a limited edition scent, but I do seem to see it on Floris website, £38.00 for 50ml. In the States, it is available at shoplondons.com, $70.00. Image sources, 1, 3- Huffington Post, 2 -artfeedonline.com, 3- agent j loves agent a on flickr.

Bond, James Bond

By Linda Because I’m a complete geek as well as a perfume geek, I was so excited to see Vesper Lynd’s personal effects near the end of Casino Royale and recognize a fragrance bottle. The handful of personal items, a tumble of things from her purse, expressed so concisely and in a few, elegant strokes just who she was. I am a harsh critic of movies and found myself really delighted by this clever visual haiku, this allegory of personality. (What might it say about me if my purse contents were shown? Oh dear, oh dear.) Of course I looked up the fragrance, Santa Maria Novella’s Melograno. It opens with a blast of citrusy, sharp aldehydes and progresses to sexy hints of incense, leather, and (yes, I do barely get) pomegranate along with the aldehydes and musk at the impressively mossy drydown. It is sweet and, after the rather piercing opening, rather tender, despite its assertive sillage. The overall impression is somehow penitent of its worldliness, as of skin impeccably scrubbed with expensive soap and then powdered into forgetting it is damp and breathing flesh. Like the fictional Miss Lynd herself, it is not exactly what I expected. It suits her to a T: clean and proper as can be, but musky beneath the surface; simultaneously tender and sharp; severe, but with hints of ripe sensuality. Melograno does not suit me: it is both too sharp and too sweet for me, and I am no penitent. However, there are some days when I crave its strangely tart and squeaky clean dry down. I also looked up James Bond’s rumored choice of colognes: Floris No. 89. No. 89 reminds me (quite delightfully) of Ivory soap upon the open – again, soapy clean, with traces of citrus, lavender, bergamot, rose, and nutmeg. It evolves slowly and seamlessly, exposing its other notes seamlessly … dangerous ylang and neroli, and finally the downright animal sensuality of its oakmoss, sandalwood, and musk dry down. Like Melograno, No. 89 is quintessentially English perfumery, and surprisingly tender. Whether or not the attribution of No. 89 as James Bond’s signature scent is apocryphal, it does evoke Mr. Craig’s moody depiction of character quite brilliantly. It starts out tidy, clean, and impeccably classic – even retro. Steadily, it slips its chain and becomes larger than life… surprisingly vulnerable and brutally seductive at once and by turns, this one fairly howls at the moon before it’s done. I find No. 89 completely desirable but not always manageable, as I discovered one day when I wore it to work and the rather rutty oakmoss and musk made themselves known. Like the characters they adorn, both scents are surprisingly similar on the drydown. Both feature drydowns of powdery oakmoss, sandalwood, and musk, with his & hers accessories – acid elegance (powder, aldehydes, and incense) for her, classic male grooming (lavender, cedar, and vetiver) for him. If you want your secret agent scent tart and stern, give Melograno a try. If you prefer it deep and a little edgy, your poison is No. 89 instead. I find it endlessly fascinating that, as Casino Royale so piquantly explores when the two agents meet and verbally joust on a train, two distinctive characters can turn out to be so similar and yet so vividly themselves. Please be kind and keep the comments as spoiler-free as possible for those who have not seen Casino Royale yet. (And if you haven't, oh, please do. Aside from being stone cold gorgeous, Daniel Craig has a genius knack for the character.) Image by Greg Williams.

Lily of the Valley Week. Day 3. Comme des Garcons, Floris, Jessica McClintock, Les Parfums de Rosine, Parfums de Nicolai

Comme des Garcons – Lily I debated whether to include this scent in the Lily of Valley Week or to wait till the Lily week (yes, it’s coming, as well as Gardenia, Tuberose and Jasmine weeks…do you see a trend here? ). Lily of the Valley won, because, although I smell both flowers in Comme des Garcons surprising creation, lily of the valley is much more prominent. I say “surprising creation” simply because this rather conventionally pretty, frankly unexciting scent seems rather out of place in the brand’s quirky lineup of fragrances. It starts with a very green muguet, and that is the stage I enjoy the most; the scent has a dew-drenched feel of an early, cool spring morning…then the perfume grows considerably sweeter and stronger, this is when I smell lily (maybe Casablanca lily) and freesia. The latter adds an unwelcome pink heaviness to the blend; it seems incongruous in this ethereal white-green composition. After going through the very sweet phase, the scent does a full turn and becomes fresh and green again, but to me the freesia-laden heart is a good enough reason not to ever want to own a bottle of Lily. Floris – Lily of the Valley First created in 1847, Floris’ Lily of the Valley is the oldest of the muguet scents I am talking about this week (Guerlain’s Muguet was originally released in 1906). The title note is indeed very prominent here and is at the center of the composition, but I almost hesitate to call the perfume a soliflore. The rose is particularly strong; it is sweet, juicy, and very life-like. I imagine Floris’ creation to be a lovely bridal bouquet made of delicately-pink roses and dazzling white lilies of the valley. The scent is very pretty, very easy to wear, but it has too much rose for me to absolutely love it. Jessica McClintock – The Fragrance Again, this is not a soliflore, but the lily of the valley is prominent enough to warrant the perfume’s inclusion in the muguet week. The beginning is citrusy, slightly herbal, almost a little peppery, with the green basil note serving as bridge of sorts to the green lily of the valley, which will become apparent in the heart. Jasmine is almost as strong as muguet, but not quite; on my skin, lily of the valley is the dominant floral element of the blend. The drydown is softly woody, delicately sweet. The scent makes me want to don a white sundress …maybe even a sundress with ruffles…and to act all demure and a little coquettish, in other words, completely out of character…I am considering buying a bottle. Les Parfums de Rosine – Le Muguet de Rosine It is rather sad that Parfums de Rosine decided to focus on rose scents only, as the now discontinued perfumes, the opulent, fruity-ambery Coupe d’Or, the fresh and creamy tuberose Mea Culpa (one of my favorite tuberose scents of all time) and Le Muguet, are as beautiful as the rose perfumes in the collection. Le Muguet is a tricky one for me. It likes to play with me; on some days, it is green, green and green, with fresh lilies of the valley and lots of grass and not much else. On others, it is a fragrance of considerable depth and breathtaking complexity. On those days the jasmine becomes very prominent, bringing with it a vaguely indolic quality, and the rose adds to the scent a wonderful honeyed aspect. The drydown is musky and slightly resinous. An interesting, sophisticated rendition of lily of the valley, and it truly is a shame that it is now practically impossible to find. Parfums de Nicolai – Eclipse There are many "light-green" renditions of lily of the valley, Nicolai’s is "dark-green". It has sumptuous, peppery greenness of basil and oakmoss. Because of the presence of anise, lily of the valley here has sweet spiciness… or spicy sweetness. I strongly believe that there is rose somewhere in this beautiful composition, as I sense rather than distinctly smell a presence of its bordeaux-colored petals among the greenness. Much more than simply a muguet soliflore, this is a very elegant, very sophisticated blend that possesses the sort of creamy sumptuousness that I came to associate with the work of Patricia de Nicolai. Comme des Garsons Lily and Parfums de Nicolai Eclipse are available at luckyscent.com, $68.00 and $70.00 respectively; Floris Lily of the Valley is sold at florislondon.com, $45.00-$70.00; Jessica McClintock can be found at jessicamcclintock.com, $48.00-$68.00. We take a break tomorrow for Tom's report on L'Eau du Jatamansi. Lily of the Valley will be back one last time on Friday.