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?

Russian Saturday: Bandit Robert Piguet

By Alena Любители винтажных ароматов знают, как больно смотреть на высыхающие капли редкого и малодоступного аромата, как расстрачиваются остатки нервов в ожидании особого случая, чтобы позволить себе их надеть. Пару капель винтажного Бандита в духах 1948 года я умудрилась растянуть на несколько лет. Пусть от них у меня останутся не только воспоминания, но и слова. Bandit – это черный кожаный плащ среди полынной степи. От кожи aka skin, долгие месяцы не знавшей ни солнца, ни ветра, пахнет "французскими духами". Свет, горечь и тепло тела. Каждая стадия аромата накатывает волнами. Сначала гесперидная, ослепительно-солнечная, и при этом мягкая, как прикосновение ладони. Подкашиваются ноги, слабеют колени – это пришла полынная волна. Высота взята. Все, что наступает потом (роза-жасмин-иланг, особенно иланг!, кожа aka leather), не менее прекрасно, но уже не имеет никакого значения. Bandit 1999 года совершенно иной аромат. Я пробовала для сравнения наносить оба Бандита одновременно, но оставила эту затею. Рядом со своим предшественником, современный Bandit старомоден и чопорен, чего не скажешь о Бандите винтажном. Мне даже сложно понять, почему он шипр. Возможно в духах аромат проявляет свою шипровость, но в парфюмированной воде это холодный, отстраненный цветочный аромат на сухой кожаной базе. Я его по-своему люблю, но он не сводит меня с ума. Даже наоборот. Bandit отличный аромат для работы. Он как внутренний начальник, беспристрастно напоминающих о поджимающих сроках. В верхних нотах аромата резкие и кислые, до боли в зубах, геспериды. Нероли? Нет, недозрелый лимон. В сердце (а оно у него есть, сердце?) холодные, хлесткие цветы, жасмин с илангом. Пахнет солоновато, немного подземельно. Кожа в Бандите черная, сухая и жесткая, как на старом портфеле, за которым давно перестали ухаживать. С этим Бандитом главное не переборщить. Он не даст вам расслабиться, даже если вам будет казаться, что на сегодня вы уже достаточно поработали. Поэтому я никогда не сажаю его на голову за уши, только на запястья. Не оставляю надежды, что в духах молодой Bandit будет способен носить не только портфель с бумагами, но и кожаный плащ. Ведь в современной парфюмерии духи – хранители лучшего, что есть в ароматах. Bandit Robert Piguet (Germaine Cellier, 1944-1974/ Delphine Lebeau, 1999): neroli, orange, ylang ylang, galbanum, jasmine, tuberose, rose, carnation, leather, vetiver, oakmoss, patchouli and musk. -------------------------- Lovers of vintage perfumes know how painful it is to look at the drying drops of a rare and hard to find fragrance, how many nervous cells are lost when one is waiting for a special occasion to wear such a fragrance. I managed to make a couple of drops of Bandit parfum circa 1948 last a couple of years. Let them leave behind not just memories but also words. Bandit is a leather trench coat in a field of sagebrush. The skin, which hasn't known sun or wind for months, smells of "French perfume". Every stage of the fragrance's development comes as a wave. First, hesperidic, blindingly sunny, and yet soft like a touch of a palm. My legs get weak when the wave of sagebrush comes. The peak is reached. Everything that comes after (rose-jasmine-ylang, especially ylang!, leather) is no less beautiful but already doesn't matter. Bandit circa 1999 is an entirely different scent. I tried to wear both at the same time, for comparison, but abandoned the idea. Next to its predecessor, the modern Bandit is old-fashioned and prim, which is not true of the vintage. I find it hard to even understand, why it is considered a chypre. Perhaps, in parfum, the aroma displays chypre quality, but in EDP it is a cold, aloof floral composition on a dry leathery base. I love it, but I am not crazy about it. To the contrary, Bandit is a great fragrance to wear to work. It's like an inner boss, dispassionately reminding about the approaching deadline. The hesperides in the top notes are sharp and sour, to the point of tooth ache. Neroli? No, an unripe lemon. In its heart (does it even have a heart?) there are cold, biting flowers, jasmine and ylang. It smells slightly salty, a little bit subterranean. The leather in Bandin is black, dry and hard, like an old briefcase which hasn't been take care of in ages. With this Bandit, it is important not to overdo it. It won't let you relax, even when you think that you've done enough. That is why I never apply it behind my ears, only on my wrists. I still hope that, in parfum, the contemporary Bandit will be able to carry not only a briefcase with papers but also a leather trench coat, because in modern fragrances, parfum is the form that is the truest to the composition. Bandit Robert Piguet (Germaine Cellier, 1944-1974/ Delphine Lebeau, 1999): neroli, orange, ylang ylang, galbanum, jasmine, tuberose, rose, carnation, leather, vetiver, oakmoss, patchouli and musk.

Dark Aldehydes...Natori: Perfume Review

I haven't been in a mood for anything dark or anything aldehydic lately. Actually, I have been in a mood for anything but. And then something that is both comes along and turns out to be exactly what I am in a mood for. Makes sense, right? My fickleness aside, Josie Natori's new foray into perfume surprised me with its depth, refinement, with the fact that it dared to use aldehydes, dared to aspire to smell "classic" and more than a touch "retro". On my skin, Natori starts dark, becomes lighter, and then darkness falls yet again as a final curtain. The beginning of roses and plums is nocturnal elegance. The fruits and petals smell ripe, longing to be picked and savored...As the composition progresses, this velvety opulence gives way to silky elegance. The aldehydic accord cuts through the lushness of roses, ylang and jasmine like a ray of shimmering light, lending the scent, for a while, a sparse and sparkling feeling of near transparency. The appearance of patchouli, amber and musk, the sweetness of the base signify the return to the baroque quality of the top notes. The light is off; the scent lapses into delightful, sinful darkness yet again. I do wish that the brilliant incandescence of the aldehydes lasted a little longer; it added something simultaneously unique and classic to the sultry blend. That said, I still think that Natori is rather stunning, a perfect fragrance to open the Holiday season. Much has been said about the bottle, and I can't help but add my rave. The dark purple of the abstractly sensual form, the subtle provocativeness of the picaboo circle in the middle, which seem to reflect the way the composition, with its light in the heart, is structured...the luxurious feel of the heavy cap...the bottle is a pleasure to hold and a wonderful compliment to the sumptuous liquid within. Available at Natori and Saks, $80.00-$110.00. Image credits: Karl Lagerfeld for Vogue Germany; Natori.