Gardenia Grand Soir by Parfumerie Generale

By Marina White floral perfumes blossom in heat. There is nothing more summery than berries. Combine the too, and…the result is either, well, yes, a ubiquitous Sephora variety fruity-floral or, if the blending is masterful and materials top notch, a wonderful summer scent. Pierre Guillaume’s recent limited edition offering, Gardenia Grand Soir, is the latter. On me, it smells of gardenias and blackcurrants. At times, more of blackcurrants than of gardenias. Blackcurrant leaves rubbed in your hands, twigs and not too ripe berries- they are all there, creating a beautifully nostalgic atmosphere of carefree childhood summers. As far as I can see, blackcurrants are not listed among the “official notes”. If you smell them in Gardenia Grand Soir too, let me know. The juiciness and the greenness of the fruity accord lends the florals a bright, somewhat airy quality, which is why I don’t perceive it as a “soir” scent. Because of the very realistic, “just off the branch” quality of the berry smell, I also don’t perceive it as partciularly “grand”. Without a doubt, the scent would dazzle if worn for a dressed up night out, but there is something relaxingly casual and out-doorish about it all the same. A pretty, easy-going gardenia that gardenia-phobic mighty love. Available at Luckyscent and Perfumerie Generale, $95.00 for 50ml. Image source, Flair.

Penhaligons's Gardenia: Perfume Review

Four things surprised me about Penhaligon's new rendition of Gardenia, re-introduced this year with the help of Bertrand Duchaufour as part of the Anthology Collection: 1) Its tangy and subtly sweet fruitiness, which I first imagined to be alike freshly cut green apples, but then, looking at the list of notes recognized as the result of mixing the fruity magnolia and the tart rhubarb; 2) Its natural, simple feel. By "natural" I mean the impression that all ingredients (simplistically speaking) had been picked in an unkempt, windswept little garden and put together in a pretty and unassuming fashion, miraculously, right there on an old wooden kitchen table...and not in a big fancy lab...and put together in a "simple" manner like a talented child's naturemort done in transluscent, pastel colors; 3)...Paradoxically, after the above statement... its "perfumey" and classic quality, which somehow goes alongside the simple naturalness from about 1/3 into the composition, when orange blossom and jasmine start to kick in, and intensifies with the appearance of tuberose and musk; 4) The fact that it does not smell very gardenia-like...Which, I suppose isn't that much of a surprise, since not too many gardenia perfumes do. None of these observations are meant as criticism. I find the verdant fruitiness unexpected and appealing; the pastel naturalness of the blend makes me nostalgic for the dacha of my childhood; the perfumey-ness brings the lady-like refinement which I always appreciate, and as for being true to the smell of gardenia...oh well! I already have Lauder's Tuberose Gardenia and Ford's Velvet Gardenia. As a side note, I do not remember the 1976 Penhaligon's Gardenia, so I can't compare. The 2009 is pretty, oh so pretty- the kind of slightly fresh, girly-feminine, genteel, almost "weddingy" (yes, that is a specific quality in a scent) blend that I have been in a mood for for awhile. Available at penhaligons.co.uk, £95.00 for 100ml. Image credits, Tim Walker, Penhaligon's.

Profumum Volo AZ 686: Perfume Review

Named for the Alitalia flight from Rome to Caracas, Volo AZ 686 blends "the scent from coconut palms and flowers of thousand colors, the swings of a hammock and a cocktail in my hand" (from profumum.com). In other words, les vacances in a bottle. Scents about summer vacations are many. Gardenia perfumes are not. Especially not those that offer such a multifaceted interpretation of the aroma. The composition starts with coconut and vanilla, about which we are warned by the list of notes, and I suppose they are necessary in both the gardenia and "exotic journey" perfume. They do serve nicely as a cuddly cushion to soften the impact of what comes next. And next comes something strikingly mentholated, a note chilly and sharp, in a manner that I find very appealing. Think Tubereuse Criminelle. To enhance the edgy effect, the flowers here have a distinctly rubbery quality, a characteristic that is simultaneously urban and organic-mineral. Volo AZ 686 takes its time to get to this final rubbery gardenia accord on the skin, it unfolds slowly, making sure all layers of the blend are noticed. Because of the menthol and the rubber, this is probably a perfume that either really works with one's chemistry or clashes with it dramatically. Because of the subversive, dark and resolutely non-girly side of the scent (the side that dominates the mix, unlike the brief coconut-vanilla cliché in the top notes), men could and should wear this gardenia. Available at luckyscent, $240.00 for 100ml.

Strange Invisible Perfumes Epic Gardenia: Perfume Review

The floral trio, launched by SIP this spring, which, alng with Epic Gardenia, includes Aquarian Roses and Urban Lily, comes with the promise of embracing "the eccentric nuances of flowers", illuminating "the facets that are too often ignored". (from SIP press release) As far as gardenia is concerned, in perfumery, it is mostly portrayed as creamy, heady and sweet (Chanel's, Molinard's, Il Profumo's Gardenia Royal, Goutal's Gardenia Passion...). Some lines surprise with an airy, breezy interpretation (Goutal's new Un Matin d'Orage, Guerlain's Cruel Gardenia). A couple of renditions dare to bring to light the flower's earthy darkness (JAR Jardenia, Tom Ford Velvet Gardenia). Alexandra Balahoutis puts a "humid" twist on her gardenia. "Humid, velvety" is the way the creator herself describes the scent, and that really is the most fitting description. The humid part is equal parts raw-earthy and sultry-floral, with a touch of something indeed slightly wet...it's that feeling of thrilling heaviness in the air, just before the heavy rain falls and greedily consumes the earth. I love the beginning of the scent, which has a surprising fruity undertone. In the top notes of Epic Gardenia I imagine I smell the tart candied-ness of black currants; the fruitiness segues into the sweet floral heart, where immediately that humid aspect becomes apparent. That subtle raw feel cuts through the typical creaminess of gardenia, rendering the aroma less opulent and heady than usual. The overall effect it strange and harmonious. My only complaint- and I rarely complain about this!- is that the fragrance does not last; half an hour after application I practically cannot smell it at all. Having said that, it might be a novelette, not an epic, but its soft, odd beauty is worth the bother of re-applying. Available at Siperfumes.com and Barneys, $175.00-$210.00. Image source, rodneysmith.com.

Annick Goutal Un Matin d'Orage: Perfume Review

By Tom Gardenia in fragrance can be a good or a bad thing, depending upon how you feel about the flower and how it's handled. Some will grab you by the lapels and shake you like a cat with a fresh-caught mouse (Agent Provocateur) while some whisper rather than shout (SIP Epic Gardenia). I prefer the whisper, thanks, and the house of Goutal is almost always about the whisper. The idea behind Un Matin d'Orage is that it's supposed to be the simulacrum of the smell of a Japanese garden after a morning storm. I can speak to the accuracy of that, but there is a definite aquatic freshness to the scent, as well as stemmy green-ness and discernible grapefruit at the beginning. I should hate that but I don't at all. This part of the scent stays close to my skin and is quite lovely. The gardenia is gorgeous and surprisingly shadowy; I catch it at odd times but don't smell a lot of it when I close in. I can appreciate the femininity and easy chic of this scent and think it could be summer favorite for someone who isn't me. It needs a woman to bloom on. But it always doesn't need to be about me. Besides, there's enough from this line that's me all over, perhaps this one is all about you? Available at Saks, and at Lianne Tio Perfumes

Perfume Review: Estee Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia

In his speech at the World Perfumery Congress 2007, Daniel Annese, Senior vice president and general manager of Estée Lauder International, talked about “the notion of heritage, which acts as a symbol of simplicity and authenticity to today’s consumers. In other words: look to the past to define the future. While the idea of “retro” means brining back chic packaging, it also means reinterpreting classic fragrance notes”. (Perfumer & Flavorist, August 2007, WPC insert, page 4.) Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia is that idea of heritage and retro brought to life. When Estée Lauder launched Private Collection, she allegedly shared with the public a scent which she originally created for herself and a few friends. Paying the tribute to her grandmother, and at the same time offering herself as a replacement for the Estée-the aspirational model- in the minds and hearts of consumers, Aerin Lauder makes available to the world the scent she “has treasured for so long and shared only with her closest friends”. (Via the Estée Lauder press release.) In an interview to Allure, Aerin Lauder said: “Everyone who smells the new scent really loves it, because it is very floral, and it’s very easy to wear. It’s not polarizing; there is nothing unusual about it. It’s not spicy and scary, it’s just like a beautiful bouquet of flowers.” (Allure, August 2007, page 245) Before I smelled Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia, I found this quote puzzling, doing a disservice to the scent. Easy to wear, nothing unusual about it? After sampling Tuberose Gardenia, I understood that Lauder was talking about the classicism and elegant simplicity of the composition. There is nothing unusual about a white sundress, that eternal summery classic, and yet it is endlessly attractive. The same would be true to say regarding the new Lauder perfume; there is nothing particularly unique about this harmonious union of two white florals, nothing except its lusciousness and its extraordinarily silky feel. Tuberose and gardenia are fierce notes and, when put together, might result in a blend of formidable headiness. In Private Collection, however, the star notes, although not understated, smell soft, non-aggressive. The long-lasting scent certainly has presence, but it is not a forceful presence, the sillage envelopes one gently, like an organza shawl, and does not loudly herald one’s arrival or impolitely linger in the room after one’s departure. It is a simple scent, in a sense that nothing distracts the nose from the natural beauty of the title notes. Tuberose and gardenia appear simultaneously the moment the fragrance is applied, and go hand in hand till the scent wears off, many hours later. The two main notes are apparent from start to finish; in the very beginning, a cold, almost green floral accord, which I take to be lilac and lily, freshens the composition slightly, only to disappear very fast; at some point towards the end, a scent acquires a certain dry piquancy, which might be carnation…but really, if one is not tracking the development at regular intervals in order to prepare a review, one might not register the notes that appear in supporting roles and would probably just enjoy the unadulterated beauty of tuberose and gardenia. When I wear Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia, I feel as if I am one of the “attractive people doing attractive things in attractive places” that inhabit the world of Slim Aarons’s photographs (see his books, Once Upon a Time, A Place in the Sun or A Wonderful Time. An Intimate Portrait Of The Good Life). It is the beau monde of pool parties, croquet and white villas overlooking always-blue seas. The world where women wear white sundresses with simple lines, made of luxurious fabrics, and exude the air of thoroughbred elegance. Coming back to Daniel Annese’s idea of “retro” scents, I would not go so far as to say that Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia smells in any way old-fashioned. It has the patrician elegance, the approachability and the versatility of a classic. Sometimes, when I am in the presence of a scent which, I feel, possesses that indescribably timeless quality that will make it smell as interesting and appealing to my grandkids, years after I am gone, as it is to me now, I get a sort of a pleasant butterflies- in- the-stomach sensation. I have that fluttery feeling every time I smell Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia. Image sources, Estee Lauder, Stanleywise.com. More of my favorite Slim Aarons images here. Please visit Aromascope to read Ina's review of the scent.