Luscious, Ascetic Labdanum and a New Favorite

By Marla Labdanum is one of those ingredients that you have to stand up and pay attention to. Not in the sense of slavishly attending to a diva, but in the sense of listening to Orson Welles’ soliloquies in Shakespeare; nothing else can be heard, just that voice. Labdanum is so rich, so complex, and so very unique, it’s like one of those soliloquies. There are infinite perfumes that contain dib dabs of labdanum, and it’s a key component of the amber family, yet there are very few that put labdanum in the starring role. It’s just too commanding. And strange? Oh yes. It’s an ancient potion derived from the Mediterranean rock rose (Cistus ladaniferus) and collected from the beards of goats, or with strange instruments made of leather thongs. But I love it when labdanum is the star of the show. And I love it when perfumers feel the same way. Sonoma Scent Studios did it with Incense Pure. Donna Karan with Chaos. And now Dr. Ellen Covey (Olympic Orchids) has done it with Dev 4, of the DevilScent Collection. The Devilscent project was completed by a group of indie perfumers who had read our own Tarleisio’s (Sheila Eggenberger’s) novel, Quantum Demonology. You can read more about the project on Perfumer Pharmer and at Tarleisio’s blog. Each perfumer created a set of perfumes to complement scenes of the book or its characters. The Devil character is said to remind people of Mick Jagger’s Turner in Roeg’s notorious cult film Performance. I definitely get a lot of Turner from Devs 1 and 3, both animalic, leathery knockouts. My favorite of the group, and now, my favorite labdanum perfume, is Dev 4. It doesn’t remind me so much of the devil, but of the Desert Fathers of the Church, those wild men (and women) who couldn’t bear to be in human society anymore and just went out there into the Egyptian desert. And stayed. Dev 4 is full of rich labdanum, but it’s dry as desert bones, stern and ancient, the spices austere but compelling. It’s a deeply contemplative and serious perfume, meant for moments when you’re alone and finally thinking through the philosophical assumptions that have undergirded your life. Or you can wear it while reading Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita, or Shelley’s Ozymandias. Ellen Covey has said that labdanum, “…is one of my all-time favorite perfume materials. To me, labdanum is one of the most grounding, calming, and comforting of all scents, and one of the most beautifully sensual. When I was making the Dev variations I got addicted to smelling labdanum when I went to sleep…. Maybe it's just coincidence, but I have the impression that it promotes a lot of vivid, film-like dreams. When I've emptied a container of labdanum resin, I wash the last tiny bits out with alcohol and add it to a hot bath ... the scent rising from the water is heavenly!” (Now that’s a good tip!) The DevilScent Collection of 4 Devs and one Lil (for the book’s character, Lilith) is premiering on Olympic Orchids in July.

More Poem Than Perfume: Green Wood Body Incense Oil, Mermade Magickal Arts

Review by Marla Lately, as I’ve been sampling more lines by indie American perfumers, I’ve been discovering what might be an actual genre- for now I’ll call them Perfumes of Place. They are not perfumes per se, they are not “pretty”, but they evoke, very clearly, a particular place. In this sense they are truly soulful scents, and have a strong effect on my emotions and the imagery that runs through my brain while I’m wearing them. Olympic Orchids’ Olympic Rainforest is in this category. And now I’ve discovered Green Wood by Katlyn Breene at Mermade Magickal Arts. I’ve been connected to Katlyn for several years through the incense-making group on Yahoo! . She’s been making marvelous incense in the American style for many years and is quite famous in those circles. (I’m talking REAL incense here, not the dangerous street drugs that are being labeled “bath salts” or “incense”.)  A few years ago, she had the idea to translate her incense into wearable oils. So she wasn’t thinking “perfumes” in the fashion sense. She was going back to the old meaning of perfume, which was of course, intertwined with sacred incense in many parts of the world. She now has a line of this wearable incense. Green Wood is inspired by Celtic traditions. Fir balsam dominates, underscored by warm labdanum and vetiver, with Omani frankincense to provide piquant counterpoint. Green Wood is really about the ancient forests of the Celtic lands, before the Clearances. It’s amazingly evocative, and even though I’m wearing it in the tropics, I feel like I’m back in Scotland before any English had set foot there. More poem than perfume, and beautiful work! Greenwood is available for $20 through the Mermade Magickal Arts website: Painting by Katlyn Breene, photo by Marla Robb

Smelly Libraries, Part II: Playtime!

By Marla, the Nerd Girl OK, so you heeded my Yoda-like advice and set up a scent library, right?? Of course you did! Because I promised you could have fun with it, as well as show it off to mystified relatives and friends. (As one of my sisters muttered after seeing my collection for the first time, “This isn’t a normal hobby….”) Here are some ways you can link your ever-expanding library to your perfumistahood. 1. When a new perfume gets a review that intrigues you, dab a drop of each main note on a small piece of blotter paper, or good quality, uncoated and unbleached plain paper or cotton rag. Sniff. Sniff each note separately. For example, you’re intrigued by the newest rose/patch combo. Put a drop of real rose and real patch on a rag square and sniff. Then try the synth versions on another patch, and sniff that. Then try them together. Of course, the actual perfume lemming won’t smell like your combo, but you’ll have an idea of the inspiration for the perfume, and know what real rose and patch smell like together. 2. Try making some famous bases, like an amber (vanilla, ambergris/Ambroxan, labdanum, benzoin), or a modern “cupcake accord” (ethyl maltol and vanilla), or a classic chypre’ with real oakmoss, bergamot, and labdanum. Try a fougere base (warning: they can linger for days)!  3. Just try combining any 2 random substances in your collection. This can be fun, and you’ll discover a few things that are amazing, and some that are…not. 4. Try combining random threesomes- one basenote, one heart note, one top note. Take notes on what you’ve done (“What have you DONE?” Someone nearby shouts….) and what you think about it. 5. When you read about an exciting new note in a perfume, try to find a small amount, and add it to your library. I discovered Paradisamide and Timberol this way.  Some of my favorite basic twosomes are petigrain/vanilla, frankincense/benzoin, and patchouli/orange essence. Just a simple twosome or threesome can smell so wonderful you might just want to add some perfumer’s alcohol, bottle it up, and use it! So for those of you who’ve already been doing this, what have some of your favorite discoveries been?

Smelly Libraries (Part I)

by Marla, the Nerd Girl  I’ve been perfume blogging for 5 years now. I think that makes me either first or at least second generation. I’ve been through all the stages of perfumistahood, and the Jaded Stage was the worst. Would I finally give up my great love, perfume? Did IFRA kill it? Did Sephora? Nah, I went DIY. I went Nerd.  I started a scent library and grew smelly plants, and after that went on for a couple of years, I started to make my own tinctures and perfumes. ACK! I heard that at some sort of professional symposium in Paris last year (Were they snooty? Were they French?), that DIYers were derided as the scum of the perfumed earth. I’m OK with that. I’m having fun. What’s a scent library? How do you make one? How can you, dear reader, DIY? Or, confess, are you there already, skulking about the periphery of Perfume World, growing and making fragrant things for your family and friends? (Yeah, and some stinkeroos, too, that’s part of the fun.  I know there’s someone out there who’s quietly growing a Corpse Flower, Amorphophallus titanum, in their backyard….and it’s not me, I swear, but only because I don’t have access to a parent plant. Don’t you want to tell people at parties that you grow Amorphophalli in your backyard?? I do. Today I’m going to write about scent libraries. In our world, we’re always talking lists of notes. Top notes, heart notes, base notes. So learning the notes is a bit like increasing your writer’s vocabulary. It’s a good idea to know what each note means, and, for the most common, what’s the difference between natural and synthetic versions. How many of us have sniffed a “peony” perfume to find it smells nothing at all like a living peony? Ditto real oakmoss and Verymoss. Both delightful, but they wouldn’t have much in common if they met for lunch. Fortunately, it doesn’t cost much to set up a good, basic library. There are kits out there, of course, but you can build your own for less-and have more adventures. You can start by dividing your prospective purchases into favorite basenotes, heart notes, and top notes. For example, your first wish list might look like this: 1. Base-benzoin, patchouli, oakmoss 2. Heart- jasmine, rose, frankincense 3. Top- mint, verveine, mandarin So that is the core of your newly born scent library. I recommend buying at least 1/8 oz. (about 4ml) of each substance so you have enough to play with. For rose, this will cost a bit, but for something like a mint or lemon, you might go ahead and just buy ½ oz. or more, as it’s cheap and won’t be sold in smaller quantitites. Don’t ignore the synthetics, they are crucial for understanding modern perfumery. I’d recommend a few white musks, Ebanol or Javanol, some Ambroxan, and Iso E Super. They are ubiquitous. The strong may opt for a few aldehydes, but beware, they can overpower the rest of your library no matter how you seal them! Here are some sources that I’ve used over the years and can recommend. I don’t receive anything free or fun from them for putting them on this list, but I wish I did. Eden Botanicals (naturals) Liberty Natural (naturals and raw botanicals) Perfumer’s Apprentice (naturals and sythetics) White Lotus Aromatics (naturals) For storage, I like sturdy portability. The cases that I’ve been most happy with are from Butterfly Express, they’re made in the US, and extremely strong. Again, I get no kickbacks, I’m just a happy customer.  I’ve also seen models where the bottles fit upright into foam slots that fit into boxes, so I’d encourage you to think through how you store and use the bottles, then find the best storage for your actual usage. Make sure that when stored, you can see the label. It’s always best to alphabetize! Part II will be about playing with your new collection….

Ballets Rouges by Olympic Orchids (Ellen Covey)

Review by Marla A few weeks ago, I wrote an article on aldehydics that touched on retro perfumes in the niche/indie world. And, if you write about it, you will find it. True, isn’t it? Specifically, I discovered Dr. Ellen Covey’s Olympic Orchids “Ballets Rouges”, which leaves me breathless. Doc Elly, as she’s known in the blogosphere, is a perfumista and Nerd Girl Extraordinaire. She leaves me in the dust when it comes to her knowledge of botany, she grows and sells rare orchids, and now, she’s making some knockout perfumes. My favorite flower is jasmine, in that pretty much any decent jasmine perfume will get my vote. I’m much fussier about roses. I wear a few of the Rosines, I love Rossy de Palma’s Eau de Protection, and Amouage Lyric is a great love. Malle’s Une Rose is wonderful, as well, but it tends to wear me, instead of the other way around. Doesn’t stop me from wearing it, though. So I tried Ballets Rouges with some skepticism, figuring it would end up in my Meh Basket, as nearly all roses do. Not so. This one astounded me. An old-fashioned rose chypre’ with real oakmoss, and a cast of characters that left nothing out, and nothing extra. It’s a perfume of perfect balance and grace. I’m not going to bother with the notes because the overall effect is so seamless, a note list is not necessary. Sniffing is. It can be hard for niche brands and indies to “edit”- that is, to find the right way to test a mod without going for the generic “focus group” that can gut an original composition. I wondered how Doc Elly worked with the formula for Ballets Rouges, seeing as it is truly a finished perfume with exquisite timbre and balance. Here’s what she wrote: M: There are a number of "classic rose chypres" that have debuted with niche brands in the past few years. What I've noticed with some is that they could have used an editor; a few have "thrown in everything but the kitchen sink", others have struck me as mere sketches. With Ballets Rouges, it seems that nothing essential has been left out, and nothing extraneous left in. How did the formula evolve? DE: The formula evolved starting with the classic building blocks of a chypre’ – bergamot, aldehydes, a floral heart, patchouli, oakmoss, and musk. The top and base are fairly stereotyped, but the floral notes can go anywhere. I chose to use rose as the centerpiece partly because it’s a classic perfumery note, and partly because I had recently formulated a rose accord that I really liked. I used ylang-ylang because it’s present in so many classic chypres, and seems to fit well. I first assembled these basic building blocks, formulating top, middle, and base separately. Once I put them together and let them meld, I added small amounts of other notes to “finish” the fragrance. In every art and craft there’s always a thin line between over-simplicity and over-decoration, and it’s one I struggle with every time I make a perfume. As in visual art, there needs to be just enough complexity, asymmetry and novelty to be pleasing and interesting, but if taken too far, it just gets ugly and messy. M: How long were you working on it? DE: It took about a year from beginning of formulation to end of testing. I work slowly, partly because I have to deal with other activities in my life, and partly because I like to thoroughly evaluate at every step before moving on. I also need time to think about where to go with the fragrance, so even if I’m not actively formulating, I’m subconsciously doing so. M: Do you have an editor, or beta testers? DE: I am my own editor. I do have about a dozen beta testers to whom I send my fragrances for their reactions and opinions. I love my beta testers! M: What's your process in terms of composing? DE: I generally start with a well-formed idea of the fragrance before I begin actually formulating, both in terms of the idea I want to represent, the general “color, shape, and texture” of the scent itself, and the materials and proportions that will best realize the concept. I usually start with the base, since to me that’s the most important part of the perfume. It’s what will be smelled after everything else is going, going, or gone, so it should be as novel and pleasant as the rest of the fragrance. Once I’m reasonably satisfied with the top, middle, and base, I combine them by layering on my skin to see how they smell together, and tweak each component in whatever way seems appropriate to make them meld better, repeating this process multiple times. Then I actually combine the parts, and see what happens. M: What inspired you to make a classic rose chypre’? Any particular perfumes? DE: Although I love most vintage chypre’s, I don’t think it was any particular perfume that inspired me to make a classic chypre’. Instead, it started more as a learning exercise in creating my own variation on a tried and true classic formula. You could think of it as the equivalent of a jazz musician learning a “standard” chart and then improvising on it, in the process discovering why this particular basic melody and chord progression work so well, and how the same skeleton can be fleshed out in multiple, innovative ways. I sent my testers four very different experimental fragrances, one of which was Ballets Rouges, and it turned out that they liked it so much that it was “voted in” to be an official release. M: What led you to use real oak moss? DE: I used real oak moss because I don’t think the synthetic “oak moss” that’s available smells right. Patchouli and musk alone aren’t going to create a classic chypre’. The whole brouhaha about oakmoss is almost irrelevant given the availability of IFRA-compliant, low-atranol oakmoss, which smells like any other oakmoss, but is mostly free of the putative allergens of concern. This is what I use in production. So there you have it, the backstory of the best rose perfume I’ve smelled in at least several years. And the best news is that Doc Elly does not believe in “aspirational pricing”. An ounce of the EdP is $40 through her website. You can find it here, or, you can try all of Olympic Orchids perfumes in a very reasonable sample set, which is also a lot of fun, and the probable subject of a future article. Now, the question of the day—What do you expect in a rose perfume, or a chypre’ and have you found it lately?? (Disclosure: I’ve been reading Doc Elly’s fascinating blog for some time , and purchased her sample set.) Doc Elly’s botanical blog.

Magnificent (Loathesome) Vetiver

By Marla, the Nerd Girl Chrysopogon zizanioides is known to most perfumistas as Marvelous Vetiver. Or Stinky Vetiver. Depends on whether you love it (like I do), or loathe it (like a lot of other people do). It’s like patchouli-- a whiff of the ubiquitous khus elicits strong opinions! Vetiver used to have its own genus, but botanists decided it was actually close cousins to palmarosa and lemongrass, and it was chucked in with other “oil grass” -pogons. I hope its enjoying its new expanded family. The grassy leaves are pretty much odorless, it’s the roots that are so fragrant (or smelly). They are distilled into medicines and perfumes, woven into fragrant mats and fans that became so popular during the Moghul Empire and Raj in India, and bundled into linen chests here in the Southern US to keep away fungi and buggles. You can even flavor your summer ice water with the roots! The top half, the grass, grows up to 8 feet tall. I’m growing some experimentally here on my sand dune. We’ve got big trouble with storm tide erosion and high winds and we need some special plants to buffer our living zone. Vetiver is being used on the islands to our east as just such a buffer, and it’s working out well. And its deep roots cleanse soils of various pollutants, too. My little pot of about 10 plants is nearly 2 feet high now. Alberto of Agriflora Tropicals, in Puerto Rico, specializes in vetiver, and he’s been a wealth of information on the lovely khus. He’s happy to ship some to anyone who wants to grow it themselves. (Disclosure—I get no commission from Alberto, I’m just a happy customer.) My scent library contains several varieties of vetiver, some fractions and synthetics. They are: 1. Rhus Khus- traditional Indian attar, vetiver co-distilled with sandalwood. The strongest vetiver of the bunch! So strong it’s almost horse-radishy…. 2. Bourbon vetiver- from Reunion Island. Supposedly the finest type, but I prefer the Sri Lankan. 3. Sri Lankan organic vetiver- softer and sweeter, with almost nutlike nuances. 4. Haitian vetiver- earthy and rooty with hints of fruit, the most grounding of the group. Rough and rugged! 5. Vetiverol- there are actually several of these patented out there with varying profiles. It’s usually considered a fraction of actual vetiver, but there’s controvery over whether it can be called a natural ingredient or not. To my nose, it has the simplest, and nuttiest profile of the group. 6. Vetiveryl acetate- a synthetic, a beloved aromachemical of Escentric Molecules (03 is allegedly composed of only this one.) Lighter and airier than the naturals. There are many other varieties out there, and I’m always on the lookout to add more! My favorite vetiver scents are an Indian attar of tuberose/vetiver, Lalique’s Encre Noir (the guy’s version), and the old standby, Guerlain’s Vetiver. Serge Lutens also makes a lovely vetiver potion, and Hove’ Parfumeur in New Orleans has a whole line of the softer, southern US type of vetiver- they even sell the root bundles for your linen chests. They won’t tell me what variety of vetiver they are using, but I suspect it’s a proprietary blend…. What are your favorite vetiver perfumes, types of vetiver, or fractions/synthetics? And if you’re in Zones 8-10, have you ever thought of growing it yourself??

So I Tinctured Some Hyrax Poop (And a Very Weird Prize Draw)

By Marla, the Nerd Girl About a month ago, I received (very excitedly) a package from Sophia in South Africa (African Aromatics). Among some amazing resins was a tiny bag of rock hyrax poop. Within seconds, I had broken open the bag and popped a few grams of scat into perfumer’s alcohol. A few days later, I had the most skankily aromatic tincture ever. Now why did I do that? I have a scent library. I’m even writing an article about it, but it’s too big a project to craft into paragraphs right now, I promise it will meet the Internet soon. Anyway, when I couldn’t obtain certain materials for my library from my favorite suppliers like Eden Botanicals and White Lotus, I started tincturing on my own, in the basement, at night…. Tincturing is actually very easy. I use only dried material, or resins. I gather most of them myself in my travels, and others are sent by marvelous people like Sophia. When I was knee-high to a diatom (now I’m knee-high to a pudu) I kept plant samples, pressed and labeled, in notebooks. This is an extension of that obsession. So I take about 5gm of the material and put it in a 15ml glass bottle. I top it off with perfumer’s alcohol, label it, and shake it around every once in a while for a few weeks. Then I can decant/filter and re-bottle, re-label, and try it out on paper or skin. I’ve learned an amazing amount of olfactory information this way. And of course, the tinctures are great for DIY (yet another article). So what’s the weirdest thing in your scent collection? Nothing has matched the hyrax poop for me, but I’m looking…. The weird prize draw is a vial of the hyrax poop tincture, and something else, as I feel inspired to include in your packet. Probably some strange plant (legal, I promise). Answer the question above and I’ll enter you in the draw. As always, Limette the Angora Bunny will choose the winner.

A Japanese Gem

By Marla Shiseido Koto, a serene green floral chypre, was launched in 1967 in Japan. Top notes are soft aldehydes, citrus, and herbs. Heart notes are narcissus, gardenia, orris root, jasmine, lily of the valley, jonquil and rose. Base notes are oakmoss, patchouli, leather, amber, vetiver and castoreum. I found a bottle of this subtle delight on the Big Bay for around $20. I love the Classic Zen (black bottle), by Shiseido, and Koto launched at about the same time. They are sister scents, beautifully retro. Where Zen Classic is somewhat stern, a “touch me not” little black dress of a scent, Koto is soft, like sunlight filtering through Japanese paper screens. There is no sweetness in Koto, but the white floral accord shines through the classic chypre structure. It reminds me a little of Guerlain’s Chamade, but, where Chamade’s color is a rich gold, Koto’s is a glowing ivory. Definitely the best perfume to wear while practicing ikebana, and listening to the koto, of course. I encourage anyone who loves green, retro, or chypre scents to try Koto.

To Boldly Go….

Mini Reviews by Marla, the Nerd Girl First, I want to express my pride over owning Star Trek Fotonovels. They are awesome, and the cover of my favorite is gracing this article. OK, now on to the mini-reviews. The gracious and tasteful Musette of Perfume Posse agreed to send me some samples of things I’ve been dying to try, in exchange for bits of some of the more unusual items in my international perfume collection. I’ve been having so much fun! Yes, there’s the good, the bad, and the ugly, I love trying them all. Here are mini-reviews of eight. The Good: 1. Beyond Love by Kilian: I don’t think I can call myself a tuberose-hater anymore. No, this really isn’t me, but it’s the most radiant bit of tuberose fabulosity I’ve ever smelled. Calice Becker is a Floral Goddess. Anyone who loves tuberose can buy this perfume and put it in the center of their home tuberose shrine. Incredible work! 2. L’Artisan Parfumeur Batucada: This is summer fun in a bottle. What I really like is that perfumers Karine Vinchon (French) and Elisabeth Maier (Brazilian) have created the quintessential summer beach perfume with a little (drumroll) SKANK. Yes, there is a touch of sweaty, tanned skank in the drydown of this sweet, citrusy aquatic, and that makes all the difference. It’s supposed to be about Brazil, but to me, it’s pure South Beach. 3. Tom Ford Violet Blond: The demure cousin of Amaranthine that would never make out with a mysterious stranger in a dark hallway at a party. I love it, but I’m keeping Amaranthine for evenings…. The (Maybe, Kinda, Not Sure) Bad: 4. L’Eau Serge Lutens: More wearable to me than Aqua Universalis Forte, but why do I want to smell like clean, fresh laundry on steroids? I don’t like doing the amount of laundry that I do, and this perfume gives me nightmares about Zombie Laundry, coming alive, climbing the stairs to get me at night…. 5. Bond No. 9 High Line: Sweet greens without the skank. Very similar to Batucada, but without the fun. Pleasant to wear, no complaints, but why bother? And the Ugly: 6. Le Labo Gaiac 10: I barely smell anything, and what I do smell, briefly, is distinctly unpleasant. No creativity, no artistry, but it costs mucho. Yuck! 7. L’Artisan Mon Numero 10- And who cursed the number 10? Was it IFRA?? This is a not-so-charming mix of apothecary herbs, old wax, and horse liniment. Nice for a barn ambience spray, but not for people. A million light-years from Mon Numero 1, the tap-dancing pear and mimosa, and my favorite of the series. 8. Chloe EdP Rose Edition- Truly the Worst of the Worst. I wouldn’t put a sheet of this in with my laundry. Then again, if it was Zombie Laundry, I would, because it would kill them. So what have you tried lately? Please leave a comment with a one-or-two sentence Mini Review, and make me happy!

Juhi, Motia, Sambac, Sampaquita: What Do You Call Jasmine? (And a Prize Draw)

By Marla the Nerd Girl Jasmine, my favorite flower, comes in lots of different packages. My poor Maid of Orleans sambac jasmine died when Hurricane Irene brushed us last summer. They are not terribly easy plants to grow on windswept dunes…. So I’ve given up gardening with jasmine, but I keep wearing it. There were rumors in the scientific community a couple of years ago that certain components of jasmine were proving to be strong antidepressants. Some drug companies apparently are researching those compounds now. I’m not surprised, but if I’m gloomy, I’m going to put on some real jasmine absolute, not take a jasmine pill! The two most famous varieties of jasmine in perfumery are Jasminum grandiflorum (the sweet one) and Jasminum sambac (the skanky one). Sambac is also known as Sampaquita, or Motia. (Though motia can also mean any kind of jasmine in India and Pakistan.) Jasminum auriculatum is also well known in India, and is making its way into perfumery here. It’s also called Juhi, and has a more balsamic and herbaceous profile. Sambac has a deeper profile, with more indoles, hence, the skank. Star jasmine, also used in perfumery, is not jasmine at all, it’s a dogbane, so I’m leaving it out, though it’s awfully pretty. IFRA’s 43rd amendment put severe restrictions on the use of actual jasmine. The technocrats are worried that someone, someday, might come out in a rash from it and sue everybody. Labs have some interesting synthetic jasmines, my favorite being Sampaquita by Givaudan. It’s very pretty, though it has little in common with actual jasmine sambac. Utterly de-skanked, every bit of earth has been removed. On its own merits, though, it’s lovely, airy and sweet. The synths are “clean” florals. The vast majority of IFRA-compliant perfumes use the synthetics, so when “jasmine” is a note, think synth. I’ve met some people that love synthetic jasmine but loathe the natural. So be careful and clarify when someone says their favorite floral is jasmine before you buy them perfume! I like my jasmine straight up and natural. I have several bottles of absolute, and a few attars. My favorite is an Indian grandiflorum from Eden Botanicals. And of course, a number of famous perfumes in vintage format are loaded with real jasmine (some from Asia, some from Grasse), and if kept properly, they’ll last decades. Natural perfumers and many indies are committed to using real jasmine, so I seek out their creations to sniff. Bellyflowers Perfumes just came out with a new potion called Blue Jasmine that I like very much. It pairs every jasmine I’ve mentioned with lotus and ylang ylang; nagarmotha and blue chamomile give it an unusual zip. Blue Jasmine has that ancient Indian attar vibe in spades, though I find it easier to wear than some of the shamamas. To my nose, it’s warm, grounding, and earthy. This is not a well-kept jasmine from a Lucknow garden, but wild jasmine growing in damp earth in a primordial forest. Bellyflowers is giving away a 3ml sample of Blue Jasmine to interested readers. If you want to be in the drawing, please leave a comment about your favorite type of jasmine, either from the garden or the perfume bottle.

Perfumistas and Their Loved Ones

By Marla, the Nerd Girl OK. I rave about new batches of vetiver from wherever. It’s organic! It’s an SCO2! I love Norlimbanol. I hate Safraleine. I wear combinations of molecules that are so intense, so bizarre, that I occasionally offend hyenas (my least favorite sentient being). It’s Valentine’s Day this week. Maybe I should give my partner the best gift I can think of…a day off the olfactory wheel?? My DH loves strange odors and actually likes beta testing my peculiar creations, and dutifully sniffs the additions to my ever-expanding Scent Library. He’s a Nerd Guy. He loves Music. So I listen to his new Arabo-andalusian rebab recording, rave about the new oud solos he’s found (yes, it’s a lute-like instrument as well as a perfume), and listen to him playing the shakuhachi on weekends. I love it! I can barely play 3 bars on my recorder, so he’s my hero. He says he’s learned a lot about the least-used sense from me (olfaction). OK, so he hates Angel. Life goes on. I hate Puerto Rican Rap. We continue. We learn. How does your perfumistahood meld with your key relationships?? Will you give the people you love most a scented, or unscented, gift this Valentine’s Day?

Aldehydes and Vintage: My Love-Hate Relationship

by Marla, the Nerd Girl What exactly is an aldehyde? And what makes a perfume, vintage or new, aldehydic? Aldehydes are organic compounds that contain a carbonyl group that’s bonded to a hydrogen atom; the general formula is RCHO. They can be naturally derived (from citrus peels or clary sage, for example), or completely synthetic. Formaldehyde is a lower-weight aldehyde, and, as we all remember from high school biology class, has a truly disgusting odor. Paraldehyde is a hypnotic drug. Big, fat aldehydes, however, can smell really good. At least to some people. Turns out different people perceive perfumery aldehydes differently (shock!) and what smells delightfully effervescent and fruity to some can smell like burnt wax and diesel fuel to others. So if Chanel No. 5 smells repulsive to you, don’t blame yourself, it’s just your DNA…. There’s been a resurgence in aldehydic perfumes. An aldehydic perfume is one where certain aldehydes (those with a particular “waxy/fatty/rosy/fruity” character) take center stage, as in No. 5, White Linen, or Femme. Many of the perfumes of the 50s and 60s were Aldehydic Extremes. Now I’m seeing some indie perfumers, like Andy Tauer and Laurie Erickson, highlight these aldehydes in perfumes like Miriam and Nostalgie with a lighter touch and a deft hand, and I’m very pleased. Aldehydics tend to make us feel a little more “dressed up”. They are (generally!) perceived as mature, upscale, sophisticated notes. You don’t wear aldehydics with unwashed hair, in an old jogging suit, schlepping the kids around in the SUV, or digging trenches in the backyard. They are “little black dress” perfumes, and are usually regarded as special. I know that my 50s/60s vintage perfumes will find their moment on those rare occasions I go to a concert, opera, or special dinner with my DH. When I wear them, someone near me will certainly comment, “My, don’t you smell posh!” When I’m not in the mood, they smell too sharp to me, too firmly tethered to a bygone era, and I pass them by with a wrinkled nose. Then a month or so goes by and I just want to smell like the aptly named Ma Griffe (My Claw), Bakir, or Replique again! It’s a love-hate relationship I particularly relish, and so I’m glad to see these lovely gems, the aldehydes, in modern settings, crafted by artists I respect. My modern aldehydic faves are Champagne du Bois (Sonoma Scent Studio), Serge Lutens’ La Myrrhe, and Shiseido’s original Zen (the black bottle, just reissued and as good as ever). And I’m dying to try Miriam and Nostalgie. How do you feel about aldehydics, old and new? And which are your favorites?

There’s a Zombie On Your Lawn

By Marla Do you know what to call a perfume that’s been long-discontinued, bitterly mourned, then revived, but it’s not the same perfume?? I call it a Zombie Perfume. I generally can’t stand them. But there seem to be more around these days, and I felt the phenomenon warranted a few words. Chaos. Barbara Bui. Venezia. Feminite du Bois. The beloved perfumes had disappeared 6 feet under, most of the original juice had been sold on the bay or elsewhere, and we all mourned or battled for the last few drops. Then the company suddenly says, “Wait! We screwed up! We are bringing it back! Perfumistas love it and we will make lots of money!” Now in the case of Chaos (Donna Karan, 1996), Long Lost Perfumes (J. Dame) had bought the original formula, and he made a fantastic version of Chaos called Anarchy. I loved it, went through 2 bottles. When DK decided to zombify Chaos, he had to stop making Anarchy. Very unfair. The Zombie Chaos showed up for a brief time and it wasn’t bad, it was a bit lighter, a little cheaper-smelling than the original. Now it’s still around, technically, but very hard to find, and Anarchy is definitely gone. Feminite du Bois was reissued by Serge Lutens, and the zombie version is again, lighter, less distinctive, but very wearable. The really ugly zombie is Venezia. This knockout oriental, in its original form, has achieved Grail Hunting status. Again, Long Lost Perfumes had bought the original formula and made a very close version of it. Laura Biagiotti decided to revive it, and LLP had to stop producing its own version, which had quite a few fans of its own. The new version has come out, it’s nearly impossible to find except in Germany, and most people who’ve tried it says it is one Ugly Zombie, nothing like the rich oriental studded with dark fruits and spices that we’d been hoping for. Have you seen any zombies on your lawn? And if so, did you invite them in?

Nerd Girl Guesses What’s Hot for 2012

By Marla I don’t read fashion mags, I don’t visit the catwalks of South Beach, I don’t go to Paris much anymore. So who am I to guess perfume trends for 2012? Ha! I’m going to do it anyway! Here are my educated guesses about what we’ll see more of in perfumery this year. Please leave a comment telling me your top guess for a trend, OK? 1. Roses everywhere. I love a good rose perfume, and I’m guessing Her Old Fashionedness is going to make a big comeback this year. 2011 put a lot of us through a Cuisinart, and I’m guessing we’re thinking more about our grandparents, who also went through such times, and what our grandmas grew, which was roses. Roses are comforting, and roses are strong. Bring on the rose! 2. Leather and Cowboy-type notes. Smoke, sweat, hyrax poop. You get it. No more Mr. Clean. Hurray! 3. Travel sizes and variety sets. Perfumistas have been pleading for these for years, and just last year, a few started to appear. I’m guessing we’ll see more, but that might be wishful thinking on my part. 4. More food/perfume pairings for both perfume and gourmet goodies. There has been a lot of exciting crossover lately, and I think it’s just the beginning. 5. Weird scented objects. Like your phone, your toothbrush, your shoes, and your sunglasses. Well, why not, right? OK, your turn? What’s coming down the pike?? And which way should we run???

A Rose for Midwinter, and a Prize Draw: Shalott Rose (Wing and a Prayer Perfumes)

Review by Marla Ever since I discovered her work through the Mystery of Musk Project, Jane Cate (Wing and a Prayer Perfumes) has been my go-to perfumer for warm, natural florals, particularly roses. Her newest of this family, Shalott Rose, is a perfect midwinter floral, warm, comforting, and sweet, with a few twists that make it intriguing. Jane’s inspirations were the Pre-Raphaelites and one of their favorite heroines, Tennyson’s tragically beautiful Lady of Shalott, and early 20th century perfumes that enveloped their wearers in rich, warm amber. The result is romantic in the extreme, while remaining wearable and chic. The opening has an almost fizzy, aldehydic effect, yet without aldehyde’s waxy/oily qualities. The floral heart is dominated by a rich rose, with iris to ground it, and carnation to add a slightly spicy effect. The base is warm, slightly powdered amber. Sillage is average and longevity is good, particularly for an all-natural perfume. Here are the notes: Top: Bergamot Heart: Carnation, Iris, Rose, Neroli Base: Amber, Sandalwood, Tonka Bean tincture, Labdanum, Jane says, “With Shalott Rose I wanted to create a fragrance that captured the unique quality of classic scents, but with my own signature florals. I just loved working with my own tincture, the tonka bean and the labdanum gave the blend a powdery scent. I also love the sparkling effect of Shalott Rose.” Shalott Rose debuts this week at Wing and a Prayer Perfume’s etsy shop. The prices are $125 for 15ml in a cut- glass falcon dabber bottle, and $100 for 30ml of the spray perfume in a standard bottle. Jane wants to give away a crystal bottle necklace containing 15ml of Shalott Rose to one lucky reader. Please leave a comment mentioning your favorite rose garden or Pre-Raphaelite painting. This necklace is exclusive to this drawing only and is not sold in Jane’s shop. Disclosure: I requested and received a sample from the perfumer.

Mirabella the Cat Announces New Niche Brand

BY MARLA “Feline fashion icon Mirabella, Moggy Extraordinaire, announced the launch of her niche perfumery brand today. It features 9 utterly unique scents, each featuring a blissful odor, such as Everglades catnip or Miami fishtail, that Mirabella encountered in her extensive travels through the exotic alleyways of Boca Loca, Florida. Mirabella worked with famous nose Guy Beaucoupdesnarines to bring these precious odors to life. The divine scents will retail for $495 for 30ml and will be available exclusively at Mousey’s department stores.” I had you there for a minute, didn’t I?? Well, maybe for a second or two. But doesn’t it seem like everyone and their cats are coming out with a niche brand lately? What’s up with that? Do they actually make money? Do they fold after a month or two? Nerd girls want to know…. If you’re like me, you haven’t even started to make a dent in the PLETHORA (good word there) of niche perfumes that came out in 2011. Heck, I’m not even a third of the way through 2009. And now I’m barely a week away from 2012 launches. I’m overwhelmed and suffering perfumista migraine. So what I want to know is, what impels you to go out of your way to sample one of these new niche brands? What is it that hooks you? Is it the purple PR prose? A personal recommendation? The list of notes? The life story of the personality behind the brand? The nose who created them? I tried to fish out of my tired brain what rules I follow when I’m choosing which tiny slice of the Perfume Pie to sample, and here’s what I’ve got. 1. A certain level of humility attracts me. I’m an ordinary gal, and I don’t really like hearing about these Amazing Women and Their Amazing Travels and Amazing Romances that inspired their Amazing Perfumes. Gimme a break! I call this sort of PR nonsense the Gilderoy Lockhart Effect, and I avoid these brands whenever possible. One of my favorite niche brands has no purple prose, and the nose herself is inspired by locales she really lives near and visits regularly. Like her city’s rose garden. I like that. It seems real. 2. Personal recommendations from other perfumistas. There are many blogs out there, and some are for PR, and some are truly independent. I correspond with other perfumistas, so if I hear good things about a line or a perfume from a perfumista friend, and see the same types of comments on independent blogs, I’m more likely to go out of my way to try something new. 3. Cost. I don’t know about you, but I’m blown away by the inflation happening in the perfume world right now. Most of it is just status inflation, meaning, some ambitious MBA said if you price your perfume astronomically, people will buy it to show off how One Percenter they are. I don’t need that. I’m an Ordinary, 99-percenter Nerd Girl. If the cost seems out of line with the ingredients, I’m not interested. 4. City exclusives and other hard-to-get gimmicks really put me off. I just can’t be bothered. I want a good website, good availability, and friendly service. Paypal is nice, too. 5. A small number of perfumes for the launch signal higher quality to me. When a brand launches with 12 perfumes, I’m skeptical. And I rarely hear good things about them. To my mind, a massive launch collection means a lot of “meh” and “same old” and “a sketch, not a perfume”. A careful, thoughtful launch of 1-5 perfumes signals more attention to detail, and time to create something worthy. So that’s what I’ve got so far. What rules do you have for sampling the PLETHORA?

My Two Favorite Sample Sets

By Marla Every once in a while, I love a sample set. When they are well made and presented, they introduce me to a line I knew nothing about. Sometimes I say, “Meh”, and sometimes I’m blown away. Here are my criteria for good sample sets: 1. They have spray samples, not dabbers. I don’t know why, but dabbing just doesn’t work for me. I can smell a perfume much better after a good spray. Is this the same for you? Or am I not giving dabbing its due? 2. A fair number of samples. Three doesn’t cut it. If possible, I’d like the whole line, or at least, an entire series within the line. I really want to know the scope of perfumes available, and the range of the house. 3. An aesthetic presentation. Preferably beautiful, but it has to show the aesthetic values of the house. No plain wrapping and generic labels, please, unless, for some odd reason, that is the aesthetic value of the house. 4. A reasonable price. Once each sample gets about $7 or more, I don’t know why, I just get bored and leave. Exceptions to this are perfumes made from very rare or expensive materials, like natural oud, or rose otto, or fossilized hyrax poop. I’ll pay extra for that! 5. Most of the perfumes have to please me. And a few should knock me over! So based on my highly scientific and economically sound criteria, my two favorite sample sets are from Ormonde Jayne, and Ineke. Each house does a splendid job of combining good value, good research material, and gorgeous design. Ineke’s Deluxe Sample Collection sells for $25, and that sum can be put toward a full bottle purchase, which is a great plus. The packaging is gorgeous, boxed in smokey grey with black and white lettering. Each spray sample is wrapped in washi paper and has its own little box. And Ineke’s line is very impressive, I haven’t found a dud among them (reviews to follow in 2012). My other favorite is Ormonde Jayne’s Discovery Set, which is 12 spray samples for 44 pounds sterling. They come in a delightful black puzzle box. For both sample sets, shipping is included. And again, not a dud in the set. What are the best sample sets you’ve tried? And what are your criteria for a good set?

The Many Faces of Sandalwood. And a Draw

By Marla Most perfumistas are aware that the cost of white sandalwood, Santalum album, is skyrocketing. It’s around $400 an ounce, and increasing in price about 25% each year. The key base note in perfumery on Planet Earth is now a very restricted, and diminishing, commodity. It takes about 4 decades for a white sandalwood tree to become harvestable, and the old stands in India, the famous Mysore sandalwood, are either protected or gone. The notes we perfumistas crave are the santalols, which are warm, milky, woody, somewhat spicy molecules. Rather than abandoning the creamy richness of sandalwood as a base for perfumes, farmers and aromachemical companies have been coming up with a plethora of synthetics and naturals to take the place of the sacred tree. Here’s a brief list of the some of the most important things you might find in your perfume when the list of notes includes sandalwood. Javanol was created by aromachemical powerhouse Givaudan. It’s intense, with powerful sillage and longevity. Givaudan also makes Sandalore (extraordinarily tenacious, and a little “spiky” to some), and Ebanol, probably the strongest of the set. Break a bottle of Ebanol in your living room and your descendants will be smelling it for 3 generations hence! Firmenich created Polysantol (santol pentenol) which has some herbal/animalic touches. Takasago makes Levosandol, which leans toward cedar, and Symrise has Fleursandol, which, as the name suggests, is softer and more floral. These can be blended in various ways to give each perfumer the “sandalwood accord” that they prefer. Linda from the Perfumer’s Apprentice makes her own sandalwood accord that combines milky laitones with patchouli and several of the aromachemicals above. It’s my personal favorite, and easy for DIYers like myself to buy in small quantities for experimentation. But the farmers and natural perfumers have been busy, too! The closest to actual Indian white sandalwood to my nose is Vanuatu and New Caledonian sandalwood (Santalum austrocaledonicum). Their oil goes for around $80 an ounce, and they’re grown sustainably, so they’re ethically a much better choice than poached Indian sandalwood. The best batches really can rival the real deal. Australian sandalwood (Santalum spicatum) is sharper and woodier, but it’s getting a lot of fans for its own unique qualities, it’s cheaper, and it’s an excellent fixative. Leaving Santalum entirely, the Haitians offer Amyris balsamifera, also called West Indian sandalwood. It’s the cheapest, at around $10 an ounce, but also the roughest of the group. However, like the Australian, it makes a great fixative, and some of the latest batches I’ve tried have been much softer in odor, in fact, very pleasant and peaceful. Siam Wood (Fodenia hodginsii), from Vietnam, has a lovely profile which is a cross between Himalayan cedar and white sandalwood. It’s frightening to learn how many of our most treasured plant species are fighting for their existence on a planet that’s become so difficult for them. But I’m glad to know the squints and botanists, the farmers and perfumers, are working hard on the next generation of basenotes for all of us. I’d love to hear your comments on your favorite sandalwood-sporting perfume, about sandalwood in general, and I’ll pick one of you for a little packet of some of the aromachemicals and botanicals I’ve described above.

Gotta Question for the Nerd Girl??

By Marla I’ve been thinking it would be fun to have an old-fashioned Q&A here at Perfume Smellin’ Things. You know I love to learn. You know I love perfume! So if you’d like to leave a comment with a question you’d like the fragrant Nerd Girl to answer, this is your chance. I’ll choose some of your most provocative, compelling, and difficult questions about perfumery, research them, and answer them here in a future article. Any questions about history, aromachemicals, botanicals, production techniques, perfumers, whatever, I promise I’ll do my best to get you an answer! So what do you wanna know??

Bitter Cocoa Angel: The Best of the Bunch

By Marla I’ve had time to sample all the new series of gourmet/gourmand Thierry Muglers, named Taste of Fragrance, and I have to say, they go way beyond the usual flanker sniff-and-run. For the most part, the series exceed the originals. I strongly urge every perfumista, even those who can’t bear or wear the House of Mugler, to give these a sniff. I actually bought a bottle of the dark cocoa laced Angel Taste of Perfume. Now my regular readers know I wear Angel and am very fond of it when used “delicately”, meaning, in minute quantities. When I am alone. This new Angel is just chocolate bliss. The patch has been toned down a little, and the “dewberry” type fruit notes are loud and up front for only a few minutes. Then Chocolate Paradise is mine! This is a strong and bitter chocolate, not sweet. For those who love Angel, I think you’ll love this, too. For those who can’t stand it, it’s still worth a sniff. I think it’s the best of the Angelic Chorus.