Cale Fragranze d'Autore Mistero: Perfume Review

Calé Fragranze d'Autore, an Italian line established by Silvio Levi, is another "library of fragrances", probably inspired by Malle's example. Each scent narrates a story, and Dr. Levi is the narrator. Take that as you will. Mistere narrates a story of A Man, "but above all that part of him that we would like to discover." It's up to you to decide what part that is, and you don't have to tell me. Mistere attracted me initially with what I can only describe as a smell of sorrel, and I felt compelled to discover if the rest of him...it is equally delicious. The sour aroma of sorrel is absolutely irresistible for me, it reminds me of childhood, of my mother's sorrel pies and sorrel soups. Mistere offers both on its menu. The sweet, slightly boozy, tangy top notes of rum, rhubarb and mint are the pie, the mouthwatering, candied and green-tasting confection. As the composition progresses, it becomes more savory, spicier, drier, greener still. That is the soup. Pimento, which I adore, is very noticeable, as is saffron. The piquant, nose-tingling freshness of one and the raw sweetness of the other are incredibly attractive together. Those who like rice in perfume, should certainly give Mistere a try: half-way through the scent's development, the note appears, slightly powdery and comforting as ever, made interesting by the presence of spices. First in Fragrance mention a "hazelnut" undertone, and it is there indeed. The wood-amber accord in the base does have a certain nutty quality. The overall effect is complex: the blend moves suprisingly smoothly from sweet-n-sour gourmandness, to verdant spiciness, to rich, musky, mossy woodiness. If I had to narrate the story of Mistero man, I would make him a chef and a family guy, warm, strong, reliable, with gentleness that is all the more charming, because it is so unexpected undeneath the burly-sexy, no-nonsense exterior. That gentleness, the playful aromatic sweetness of the scent and the fluffy softness of rice and woods also make Mistere entirely wearable for a woman. Available at First in Fragrance, €65.00-€90.00. Other perfumes in which I smell "sorrel": Guerlain Djedi and L'Âme d'Un Héros, Lalique Encre Noir.

Heroic Thursday: Guerlain L'Ame d'Un Heros and Washington Tremlett Royal Heroes

Guerlain's and Washington Tremlett's takes on what a hero would smell like could not be more different...or further from my idea of a "heroic" fragrance. L'Âme d'Un Héros, Guerlain's re-introduction of Coriolan in a more exclusive (read, expensive) form, in the Les Parisiennes line, is what I think of as a very classic (read, conventional) masculine scent, fresh, a little soapy and cold, on a darker, woody-herbal-mossy base. The most attractive note here is vetiver, which has the pleasantly sour, sorrel-like undertone that I enjoy, and which reminds me in a very, very distant manner of the vetiver note in Djedi, where it is also paired with patchouli. The slightly powdery, almost leathery base of L'Ame makes me think of Derby. I feel bad evoking the names of Derby and Djedi in relation to L'Ame d'Un Heroes, because, although some parallels can be drawn, the two glorious perfumes would serve as an endorsement of sorts for L'Ame, and L'Ame does not deserve it. It is an elegant scent, no doubt about that, very wearable, very versatile. But it lacks character and originality. Suited for a hero? Nope. Perhaps for a member of nomenklatura. Washington Tremlett's creation is heroic only in a sense that it dares to smell rather ...unexpected for a scent that is supposed to be a) masculine, b) inspired by "the heroical [sic] value of Horatio Nelson and his Royals" and c)"characterized by historical glamour". The notes provided by the company are mandarin, bergamot, clove, anise, cedarwood, patchouli and tonka, but I also smell very strong ginger, and, combined with the sweetness of citrus fruits, the latter gives the blend a candied, almost edible undertone. Royal Heroes has the same dark gourmandness and mouthwatering booziness that I love in such perfumes as Le Dandy, Une Crime Exotique and Mechant Loup. Admiral Nelson and his Royals would never deign to wear something so ....what is the word I am looking for?...not obviously masculine? metrosexual? sexually ambiguous? fluffy? Having said that, although Royal Heroes does not smell as my idea of heroic (for that, I would refer you to the great leathery chypres of the past, for example, Yatagan), it smells incredibly attractive. It is a warm, sweet-n-spicy, comforting fragrance that is perfect for the horrible weather we are having now. Much to Nelson's consternation (or so I would guess), it is also entirely suitable for a woman. L'Âme d'Un Héros is available at Bergdorf Goodman, Royal Heroes at Luckyscent.com.

Perfume Review: Lalique Encre Noir

Dragging behind the whole enlightened perfumanity, I finally tried Lalique's fairly recent masculine release, Encre Noir. (Many thanks to Robin for sharing this marvel with me!) So good is this deceptively simple, elegantly earthy creation, that it might just revive my passion for vetiver. When I say that it is deceptively simple, I mean that it appears relatively straightforward: vetiver and more vetiver. The supporting notes (cypress, musk, grapefruit, licorice) are wonderfully discreet. And yet, the fragrance constantly changes ...but "spatially" rather than "temporally". In other words, I don't perceive any drastic transformations from top to middle to base notes, however, strangely, the scent smells different when inhaled very closely (nose-to-wrist), from a short distance and as "sillage" wafting subtly with one's movements. Up close, it is rooty-green, pungent, although not sharp, and possessing the quality I love so much about vetiver- an enjoyable sourness of sorts, not unlike that of sorrel. From a short distance - hand snatched away from nose, the molecules hanging for a millisecond suspended in the air between nose and hand - it smells like dirt. Clean dirt, to be oxymoronic. There is nothing animalic and sensual about the earthiness of Encre Noir. The scent is smooth white stones on dry gray earth... pristine, virginal almost-sterility of primeval landscape. The sillage has a sublimely elegant leathery undertone, an unexpected touch of chic urbanity in this strangely "natural" blend. The leathery undertone aside, Encre Noir makes me feel, to quote Neruda, as if "I am this naked mineral: echo of underneath." The perfume is nothing short of exquisite and absolutely unisex. I recommend it highly to those who, like me, were enamored with the "mineral" aspect of Terre d'Hermes and Sel de Vetiver and were looking for a vetiver scent that would be even more like a "substance that is neither vegetable nor animal". Encre Noir is available at Aedes, $100.00 for 3.3oz. The painting, Man with Stones, is by Steven Kenny, stevenkenny.com.

Perfume Review: Guerlain Djedi

Miracles do happen. One gloomy Monday you go to get your unexciting post and there is a surprise package in your mailbox. In the package is a sample of a fragrance so rare and so expensive, you thought you would never get to try it. When you crack open the vial, your hands tremble ever so slightly. You sniff reverently, gingerly…You have heard it was a “tremendous animalic vetiver” (Luca Turin), “the driest perfume of all time” (Roja Dove)… It smells dark and mysterious. Scent of something or someone eternal, complex, incomprehensible, of a twilight place beyond good and evil. Thus smelled Zarathustra. It is not clear from the information I was able to find on the web, when exactly Djedi was created. Some sources say, in 1905, some in 1926, some in 1927. If one article is to be believed, Djedi was re-launched in 1996 to celebrate its 70th anniversary, so perhaps 1926 was indeed the year of the first release. Originally created by Jacques Guerlain, the perfume’s list of notes supposedly includes rose, vetiver, musk, oakmoss, leather, civet and patchouli. As for the name, it might have been named after a mythical Egyptian magician Djedi who could bring the dead back to life. (More information and / or corrections are very welcome.) The first whiff of Djedi is wondrously pungent. It is green and earthy, like some magical root dug up from the jet-black soil in a sinister forest. As the scent evolves, the vetiver note remains as green and peppery as it was in the beginning, and the patchouli note grows stronger. I do not smell any rose here and practically no leather. The musk is very subdued as well, making the patchouli note almost solely responsible for the animalic quality of Djedi. The drydown is herbal and dry, although on my skin, it is not nearly as dry as Roja Dove suggests; there is a certain "natural", very subtle sweetness here, the way juice squeezed from a wild, green plant might be sweet. At this point Djedi smells bizarrely like sorrel borscht my mother tried to force me to eat when I was a child (it smelled much better than it tasted). All in all, Djedi is a rather austere, elegant, supremely blended composition that smells quite unlike any other Guerlain I have ever tried. While testing it, I kept catching myself thinking rather irrationally that it was a Lutens scent. Djedi has that Lutenesque dark strangeness about it; it sucks the wearer into its dusky enchanted world the way the most interesting Lutens scents do. As far as I understand, when Djedi was re-released in 1996, only 1000 bottles were to be sold, each a stunning, numbered Lalique creation. Right now Djedi is sometimes auctioned on eBay; most recently a bottle was sold for over $500.00. Many, many thanks to the wonderfully generous Judith for this incredible surprise. *The photo of the bottle is from Pavesiocourmayeur.com. The image, Dark Forest by John Skwiot, is from Galleryplanb.com.