#200 – Lists, Favorites, Stats & Oddities

Posted on June 28, 2013 by Kafkaesque

For my 200th post, I thought it would be fun to cover some facts, figures and favorites since my 100th post back in March. For the most part, I’ll focus just on the fragrances that I’ve covered since then but, for a few things (i.e., which houses I’ve covered the most), I’ll include all posts. So, in no particular order, here are some general thoughts or conclusions about the last 100 perfumes I’ve reviewed:

FAVORITES:

In the first 100 posts, my favorite modern fragrances were: Téo Cabanel‘s Alahine, Puredistance M, Dior Mitzah, and Neela Vermeire Création’s Trayee. (You can read the full list of loves, likes, dislikes and more in my #100 rundown.) The next 100 posts have brought some new additions to my favorites list:

Neela Vermeire‘s Mohur Esprit de Parfum: the new extrait version of Mohur, the upcoming Esprit is simply spectacular. Fully diva-esque in the most beautiful way possible, it takes the haunting beauty of Mohur and makes it sing like Maria Callas. Rose, violets, spices, gorgeous sandalwood, and amber swirl together with a richness that evokes a queen in the most opulent, haute couture ballgown imaginable.

Vero Profumo‘s Onda — not “swamp sex” but, rather, for me, beautiful honey with salty vetiver and sensuous muskiness. Gorgeous, different, original, opulently rich, utterly seductive, and very evocative of a passionate embrace.

Serge Lutens‘ De Profundis — haunting, evocative, exquisite, delicate florals of a purple hue. It stays in your mind, and you can’t forget its beauty.

Viktoria Minya‘s Hedonist — sunny, soothing, sensuous, honeyed florals. Lush but perfectly balanced and airy. It’s definitely a beauty, and one of the stars of this year’s new releases, in my opinion.

Profumum Roma‘s Ambra Aurea — the richness and complexity of real ambergris takes center stage in this very baroque, opaque, heady amber soliflore that is as smooth as satin and an addictive as salty caramel. Perhaps the best amber I’ve tried thus far, it creates a whole new standard for richness, depth and longevity.

CLOSE, SO CLOSE, BUT NOT QUITE THERE:

Amouage Fate for Women: gorgeous, lush, and very seductive, but soapiness — and the aldehydes that I suspect are the cause of it — are always a huge issue for me, even when they aren’t a predominant part of the fragrance. Plus, I wasn’t completely gaga over some of the lemonade-like aspects of the chypre beginning. Yet, I keep thinking about it, and I suspect this one ultimately end up on the favorites list — soap be damned!

Profumum Fiore d’Ambra: sillage and longevity were a bit of a disappointment, and, ultimately, something keep me teetering just on the edge of absolute love. However, I suspect that this is another fragrance that would be utterly addictive with extensive, repeated use.

Chanel Bois des Iles (EDT): I love Bois des Iles, and it should probably belong in the Favorites section. However, there is just something that holds me back a little. A wee bit of sheerness, given my personal tastes, and the need for greater heaviness or opulence. I think the Eau de Parfum version would probably send me completely over the edge with adoration, but I do love the EDT. A LOT!

YSL‘s vintage M7: My favorite oud fragrance, but simply nonexistent sillage and extremely poor longevity on me. Such a shame, as I really love what little of it shows up on my skin. Others have significantly better luck, so if you’re looking for a scent to drive your partner wild, this should be at the top of your list!

Serge Lutens Boxeuses: sillage, longevity, and, alas, just something that didn’t quite bowl me over. Mea culpa, Uncle Serge.

Tom Ford Arabian Wood: A lovely chypre, but there were some serious sillage and longevity issues on my skin.

Le Labo Lys 41: A white floral beauty dominated by lilies and tuberose, but, again, serious sillage and longevity issues for me with this one as well.

Amouage Lyric Woman and Ubar: I liked both fragrances but, ultimately, both came up just a little bit short for me. Ubar was perhaps just a wee bit too white for me at the end of the day, but Lyric still sticks in my head, even if it wasn’t a spicy rose fragrance on my skin as it is for everyone else.

Lubin Idole (EDT): Alas, not full-bodied enough for me, too sheer, and without fantastic sillage. I shall have to try the Eau de Parfum.

TRAUMATIC FRAGRANCE EXPERIENCES:

First place goes to the new release by the small perfume house which I shall not name. All I’ll say is that it was a stomach-churning, revolting, hot mess, one of the worst things I’ve smelled in years, and almost put me off perfume for a few days. The mere thought of it sends a shiver down my spine, so let’s move on.

Histoires de Parfums Vidi: the 2nd in the Veni, Vidi, Vici series, it was a witches brew worthy of Macbeth’s crones. An unholy combination of: metallic, aquatic notes; chocolate-like cardamom; watery cucumber; antiseptic acne tonic; ISO E Super; and eggy vanilla. No-one should ever mix watery, metallic cucumber with chocolate. No-one!

Ormonde Jayne Montabaco: Oceanic levels of ISO E Super. Oceanic, I’m telling you! It forever impacted my nose, not to mention my ability to handle the synthetic note. Now, I’ve become a walking weathervane for ISO E Super, even in the smallest doses. A friend who loves Molecule 01 has said that Montabaco is very similar. For the sake of politeness, let’s just say that I will never try Molecule 01.

L’Artisan Dzing! & Dzonghka: Dzing! holds the distinction of making me almost lose my mind — and my usual approach to reviewing. I had a meltdown, culminating in a rant about Ionesco and Absurdism. I stand by my opinion: Ionesco would have loved Dzing! and would have undoubtedly written a whole play around it, perhaps as a sequel to Rhinoceros only this one would take place in a cheap, plastic-reeking, dusty, cloying, synthetic circus. Dzonghka was somewhat better — but it’s all highly relative in this case.

DEEPLY DISAPPOINTING:

Amouage Opus VI: I’m in the minority on the issue of Opus VI which many consider to be the best amber fragrance around. Perhaps I’m just difficult when it comes to my Orientals, or perhaps it’s because I’ve spent time in the Middle East and am familiar with Arab fragrances. Whatever the reason, Opus VI left me shrugging my shoulders. I was singularly unmoved, and I really think it is over-hyped.

Amouage Opus VII: Urinous notes evocative of a zoo’s big cat enclosure, animalic muskiness taken to extremes, huge amounts of ISO E Super, and pungent oud…. I’m clearly not the target audience for the newest addition to Amouage’s Library Collection. Opus VII will forever more be summarized in my mind as “panther pee.”

Vero Profumo Rubj (EDP): I had high expectations for Rubj, since I love orange blossom and am not a cumin-phobe. On my skin, however, it smelled of: sweaty feet; stale, rank, fetid body odor; and animalic muskiness redolent of unwashed genitalia and crusted, dirty, caked underpants. It was…. overwhelming. Perhaps the Extrait or Pure Parfum version would be better but, frankly, I’m not motivated to go out of my way to buy a sample.

Maison Francis Kurkdjian Oud Moods Collection: Disappointing as a whole, but Cashmere Oud was particularly horrendous: rancid, sharp, medicinal, metallic notes combined with a Gorgonzola-chevre oud, pink rubber bandages, and cloying, synthetic, candy-floss vanilla. Velvet Oud was only marginally better. Again, it’s all relative.

Xerjoff Zafar: Rancid Gorgonzola cheese atop a foundation of extremely rubbery, pink bandages and a strong tinge of rubbing alcohol. I was fortunate to be spared the heavy fecal notes that many detect in Zafar, but it still wasn’t my cup of tea. Clearly, I’m not cut out for the most masculine, hardcore, aged, pure versions of agarwood.

WONDERFUL BUT I’M BEGGING FOR A PURE PARFUM VERSION:

Parfum d’Empire‘s Ambre Russe & Aziyadé: I’m one of those freakish people who actually thinks both perfumes to be far too sheer. Yes, yes, I know, everyone considers Ambre Russe, in particular, to be a meaty, full-bodied amber, but I thought it was anorexic. Gorgeous, intoxicating, evocative — but anorexic. (And this was far before I’d tried Profumum Roma’s stunning ambers with their concentrated 43% perfume oil!) My dream is that Ambre Russe will one day be released in Pure Parfum concentration. I’d be the first person in line to buy it. Hell, I’d probably sell an organ to buy a vat of it.

BEST BACKSTORIES:

Speaking of Parfum d’Empire, I just have to say it one more time: they have the best backstories of any perfume house. The tales associated with both Aziyadé and Ambre Russe were mesmerizing. I could read them for days; if they were in a book, I’d buy it. They are utterly transportative. En plus, they actually and genuinely fit the essence of the perfume — which is pretty damn rare, in my opinion.

PREDICTIONS FOR “BEST OF” LISTS FOR NEW 2013 FRAGRANCES:

New perfumes always come with a flurry of hype, but I think there are some that will prove to be popular and remain loved regardless of early excitement. My predictions include two fragrances that have not yet been released, but which I had the lucky opportunity to test out a while ago:

Neela Vermeire Créations’ Ashoka: Ashoka will be a stupendous, stupendous hit once it is released in the Fall! No doubt about it in my mind at all. It is a highly refined, beautiful, soothing, comfort fragrance that will be adored by those who are current fans of NVC perfumes, but also by those who may prefer something less oriental or spiced.

Neela Vermeire Créations‘ Mohur Esprit de Parfum: if this one doesn’t end up on many year-end “Best Of” lists, I’ll eat my hat! Stunning. Simply stunning!

Viktoria Minya Hedonist: Another fragrance that I think will grace many “Best Of” lists at the end of the year. An absolutely lovely fragrance that evokes the best of classique, haute French perfumery, and that I think will continue to captivate people. Viktoria Minya is a perfumer to watch and, considering that Hedonist is her very first fragrance, I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

Amouage Fate Man & Woman: I think both these fragrances will prove to be very popular, for different reasons. I’m not so completely convinced that Fate Man will stand the test of time across the board once the hype dies down, but I think Fate Woman will, for the most part.

STATS BY PERFUME HOUSE:

At this point, I’m going to encompass all the reviews I’ve done for the blog since I started. The perfume brands I’ve covered the most, whether with full reviews or the more abbreviated Reviews En Bref, are:

Tom Ford: 12

Serge Lutens: 11

By Kilian: 8.5 (the half comes from a fragrance that I discussed briefly in one long paragraph in a Review En Bref devoted primarily to two other Kilian fragrances. I disliked the fragrance so much, I didn’t even include its name in the review and gave it rather short shrift, at least by my standards.)(Out of these 8.5, only 1 review, for the new Musk Oud, was even remotely complimentary and positive.)

Amouage: 8

L’Artisan Parfumeur: 8 (All negative. The exception might be Safran Troublant, which I loved, but its ridiculously fleeting nature ultimately turned that review negative as well.)

Chanel: 7

Guerlain: 6 (All negative to a large degree. Modern Guerlains simply aren’t my cup of tea. Interestingly, the one that I had the most neutral feelings for, relatively speaking, was the very last perfume ever created by Jean-Paul Guerlain.)

Ormonde Jayne: 6

Neela Vermeire Créations: 5

Maison Francis Kurkdjian: 5

Parfum d’Empire: 4

Montale: 4

Histoires de Parfums: 4

MOST FREQUENTLY READ REVIEWS:

The blog has been up for 6 months and 22 days, and gotten over 122,500 hits thus far, but some of my reviews get more love than others. The Top 10 most popular posts (in order and with the number of hits listed at the end) are:

Perfume Review- Serge Lutens Chergui: The Desert Wind 3,460

New Perfume Releases: Volume 3 – January 26th, 2013 2,441

Perfume Reviews – Jo Malone “Sugar & Spice” Collection: Ginger Biscuit and Bitter Orange & Chocolate 2,063

A Beginner’s Guide To Perfume: How to Train Your Nose, Learn Your Perfume Profile, & More 1,995

New Perfume Releases: Volume 4 – February 15, 2013 1,823

Perfume Review – Amouage Jubilation 25: Scheherazade & Seduction 1,726

Perfume Review – Tom Ford Private Blend Oud Wood: An Approachable Oud 1,637

Perfume Review – YSL M7 For Men (Reformulated): The Lion is a Pussycat 1,221

Perfume Reviews – Jo Malone “Sugar & Spice” Collection: Redcurrants & Cream, Elderflower & Gooseberry; and Lemon Tart 1,205

Perfume Review – Puredistance M: “M” for Molten Marvel 1,072

To my surprise, I also get continuous (and often daily) hits for Valentino‘s Valentina Assoluto. I chalk it up to the fact that no other blogger wanted to really tackle all the Smucker’s strawberry jam.

And, speaking of food, a surprising number of people find my blog not because of perfume, but because of all the gastronomy, royal food, food history, and royal recipe articles, with many being searched for by name. The sum total of the historical food posts, in conjunction with the general history articles, results in several thousand more hits. It makes me happy to think that some culinary student at the CIA (Culinary Institute of America) is discovering the recipe for Catherine the Great’s favorite dish, learning about Tsarist coronation banquets, amused by the British royal family’s eating habits or culinary preferences, or paying heed to the woefully under-appreciated Careme (who is completely overshadowed by Escoffier, even though poor Careme is the real father of modern gastronomy, in my opinion).

WEB-ENGINE SEARCHES:

Two things always amuse me when it comes to my blog. First, spammers who write that I need to add greater detail and length to my posts. Because, really, have they seen my reviews??! Second, the manner by which people find my blog. I thought it may give you a few laughs too, so below are some of the funnier searches which have led to hits on my blog. The queries have been copied verbatim, with the only change being the minor editing of one four-letter word, and the addition of how many times that search may have come up in parentheses at the end:

sex smelling dirty sweaty socks

a customer has reject his order of roast beef, he want a replacement of chicken fricassee. how would you deal with this difficulty and solve the problem (11 times)

big fatewoman get f*** by mini hourse (5 times)

male full frontal (22 times)

assist the nursery on how to read and write a nstp narrative documentation (7 times)

big muscular caveman wanking (2 times)

naked Omar Sharif (2 times)

perfumed panties seduction stories

Excrement perfume

sexy images for blanket in the forest.

“flaming flamingo lily smells bad.”

tangle pile of naked male flesh male on male four some orgy

sadomasochistic using vapor rub

smell of a woman’s decomposition during sex

Needless to say, the last one is rather alarming. Either it was a necrophiliac, a budding serial killer, or both. As for the caveman one, it would be a lot more interesting as an insight into the sexual psyche if I didn’t continuously envision the Geico cavemen….

LASTLY…

As a final note, I want to thank all the regular readers — regardless of whether you comment or just lurk in the shadows — for staying with the blog. I know your time is precious, and I realise that many of my reviews are not brief. (That may be the understatement of the day!) So, please know, I’m enormously grateful to all of you, and cannot thank you enough for being here. Your loyalty and friendship have really made Kafkaesque, and I couldn’t have done it without you.

So, onwards and upwards to another 100!

Perfume Review: gs03 by Geza Schoen for biehl. parfumkunstwerke

Posted on June 28, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Photo: Sohrab Ghotbi. Used with permission.

Perfume as art. Individuality, purity, modernity without the limitations of commercialism, and uniqueness. It that may not be for the masses, but that is not the goal of biehl. parfumkunstwerke. (For the sake of simplicity, I will refer to the house as “Biehl” in this review, even if the capitalization is not the official form of the name.) Biehl is a German niche perfume house founded by Thorsten Biehl who explicitly sought to create “an olfactory gallery. a free space for perfume artists” to be artists without commercial, mass-market considerations. To that end, it has given free rein to some of the most avant-garde perfumers, like Geza Schoen (or “Geza Schön”), to pursue a more intellectual approach to perfumery.

Geza Schoen. Source: Hypoluxe.

To me, the house has a vision that seems very German in its ethos of avant-garde minimalism and purity. That trend is reflected in both the intentionally fluid, minimalistic packaging of the bottles and in the perfumes’ names. As the website states: “no borrowed concepts of super-model dream worlds. no extravagant packaging frills. no try-hard bottle design. instead we concentrate on what is essential – the perfume.” Each fragrance comes in a minimalist bottle, and is named simply after the initials of the perfumer, followed by the index number of his works.

Thus, the new perfume, gs03, stands for Geza Schoen and for the fact that it is his third creation for the perfume house. It is part of Biehl’s Young Savages collection which also includes fragrances by Mark Buxton and Patricia Choux, and two others by Geza Schoen, for a total of eight fragrances in all. gs03 is the very latest addition to the line, an eau de parfum that seeks to reinvent and restructure the concept of eau de cologne — only with 20% concentrated perfume oil. As the press release explains, in part:

gs03

Scope: to rejuvenate the ‘eau de cologne’ theme for the 3rd millennium. […]

It was however a complex restructuring process to modernize such a well-known scent. The traditional, overpowering freshness of orange flower, neroli, and citrus notes needed the depth, warmth, and lasciviousness of modern musk notes, benzoe siam, moss, and castoreum. The result: ostensibly clear and innocent – provocatively innocent, disrespectful – how beautiful.

Head: Fresh yet tender Neroli, orange flower absolue, mandarine, juniper, schinus molle [pink peppercorns].
Heart: Lustrous elegance. A fusion of iris absolue, rose oil and hedione.
Fond: Sophisticated sensuality. Vetiver, castoreum, musk, benzoe siam, moss, tonka, cedarwood.

Juniper.

gs03 opens on my skin with sparkling green, white and yellow notes. Hedione with its lemony nuances flits about with soft, translucent orange blossoms and greener neroli in a heavy veil of soap. Hints of evergreen and juniper evoke a snowy, white mountain top, as does the underlying musk with its clean freshness. Interestingly, the juniper smells not only of pine trees (or evergreen), but also of gin.

The bouquet shines as brightly as a pristine, white, Alpine landscape, channeling the outdoors with such a crispness that it almost feels as though you were crunching on snow. Yet, despite the brisk, outdoors-y overtones, there are also flickers of warmth from the sweet orange blossom. Thanks to the sparkling, green effect of the hedione and the edgy, almost aquatic coolness of the juniper, it’s never indolent, thick, or syrupy, but, instead, airy and green. The overall impression is of a fragrance that is extremely aromatic, light, clean, energizing and fresh, but also incredibly soapy. Far, far too much so for my own personal tastes. (Soapiness is only a step below the dreaded ISO E Super in my estimation….)

Source: picstopin.com

What’s interesting about gs03 as a whole — and what starts to become noticeable less than five minutes into the perfume’s development — is the chiaroscuro effect. Contrasts abound all over the place: light and dark; crisp cologne but with a parfum feel; airy, breezy twists on indolic, usually heavy essences like orange blossom; and alpine, white coolness with warmer, peppery, or deeper hues. Flashes of darkness start to emerge, first with subtle whiffs of vetiver and moss in the base, almost paralleling the brisk evergreen and juniper lurking about the top. Then, slowly, slowly, hints of castoreum — a most unusual element in this sort of mix. In general, and as Fragrantica explains, castoreum has an aroma which can range from animalistic and leathery, to fruited, musky, or sweetly carnal. Here, in gs03, it creates more of a feel, if that makes sense: warm, plush, velvet, and languid. It never smells like raw, animalistic leather; instead, there is the subtlest hint of warm suede to its plushness.

Thirty minutes in, gs03 shifts a little. There is a soft breath of fruity, pink peppercorns, and, alas for me, the start of ISO E Super. Geza Schoen clearly loves the blasted aromachemical like nothing else in the world, and I guessed it would be an inevitable part of gs03, but still, I had held out hope that just once (once!) he may stop hugging it to his bosom like treasured gold. Nope, it’s in there. The quantity is not the scarring, utterly traumatic nightmare that it was in his Montabaco for Ormonde Jayne, but there is enough ISO E Super to give me a headache — which doesn’t happen to me unless a perfume has quite a bit of the bloody stuff. Still, on a positive note, and to my relief, the ISO E Super is relatively bearable in gs03, smell-wise. It’s not an antiseptic horror that evokes hospitals or chemistry experiments, there is no rubbing alcohol nuance, and it doesn’t smell abrasive or harsh. In fact, it is simply a low-level, throbbing, woody hum (to paraphrase how Luca Turin once described ISO E Super) that adds a velvety touch to the base. Still, those of you who always get searing migraines from the note (or from the Ormonde Jayne line) should take heed.

As time passes, gs03 begins to reflect different elements. Around the start of the second hour, the perfume turns warmer, softer, woodier and more layered. On the surface, the primary bouquet is still a soapy orange blossom, gin, and lemon triptych, but there are far greater nuances lurking below. The cedar element is much more prominent and peppery; the white musk smells much warmer and less bracingly clean; the oakmoss starts to make its presence noticeable with a grey, dry nuance; and there is a faintest tinge of bitter greenness hovering around the edges. Even one of the top notes — the lemon — has changed a little. It now smells a lot like lemon verbena, thanks to a rather creamy richness that has taken over.

Source: picstopin.com

All these elements change the visuals from that of a pristine, cool, crisp, outdoor scene high atop a snowy Alpine mountain speckled with pine and juniper trees, to something that takes further below in a fragrant valley warmed by the sun. The image is further underscored around the middle of the third hour when gs03 turns into a very woody, musky scent. The top notes are rather amorphous and abstract, but they are supported by a slightly rooty vetiver and an increasingly prominent iris note. The soapy orange blossom has receded to the background, along with the lemon note, adding a muted floral touch.

Starting in the fourth hour and all the way through to the middle of the seventh, gs03 turns into a lovely iris fragrance. The note is neither powdery, nor really very rooty. Rather, it’s cool, faintly floral, restrained and strongly evocative of buttery, grey suede. It adds to the overall feel of gs03 in this second stage as something plush, velvety and smooth, instead of being hygienically fresh. The perfume no long evokes the scent of a man’s skin right after he’s taken a shower and then splashed on a citric cologne. Instead, gs03 now radiates a sort of controlled warmth and perfumed softness that is elegant, sophisticated, and refined. It’s hard to explain, and I’m undoubtedly not doing it justice, but I’m starting to agree with the press release description of gs03 as “lascivious purity, warm, subtle, hidden seduction.” Well, “lascivious” goes too far (and I’d personally use the word “refined” instead), but the rest of it is certainly very accurate. There is something about the richness of that iris absolute which adds smoothness and elegance to gs03.

Source: wallpaper777.com

The perfume remains as an iris scent backed by vetiver, gin, woody musk, soapiness, and darting flickers of orange blossom for another few hours, softening all the while. By the end, gs03 is simply an amorphous, soapy, musky scent with the faintest impression of something woody flittering about its edges. All in all, gs03 lasted just under 10.25 hours on my voracious skin, and the sillage was generally moderate. The perfume only became a skin scent around the seventh hour, which is pretty good indeed.

As noted at the start, gs03 is a brand new fragrance; in fact, it was launched in Berlin just a few weeks ago. On Fragrantica, the only person who has tried it thus far considered it to be a fresh, uplifting, earthy cologne that turned muskier over time. In a separate article for Fragrantica, The Perfume Shrine‘s Elena Vosnaki found a few parallels with Jean-Claude Ellena‘s fragrances, but, ultimately, far greater differences in overall style and approach. Her experience with gs03 is actually quite similar to mine, minus the deluge of soapiness and the issue of the ISO E Super. Her review reads, in part, as follows:

The top note is as clear as a church bell pealing on a mountain top in the Alps, but at the same time quite soft, comprised of a pink pepper note (allied to what can only come across as sweet lemon to my nose) which reveals a less sharp than citrus, slightly fruity-rosy scent carried far by the scent of the alcohol carrier. The rejuvenating scent of juniper gives an herbal accent that recalls the bracing feel of downing a good gin. The lemony touch just aids in bringing forth the herbal aspects of juniper berries. […] The gin and tonic combination is as perennially pleasing as a button-down oxford shirt in white; it just works in any situation, on any wearer. It’s also effortless […] [¶]

… It seems to me that there is also a bitterish artemisia hint, a tickling of the sinuses which aids the pungent freshness of GS03; it would serve as both a contrast and a modifier, rendering the juniper fresher and the rest fruitier by contrast. The anchoring elements consist of the musky-woody hum which we have come to associate with Geza Schoen, with an added layer of castoreum, just enough to give interest. […]

GS03 has Geza Schoen’s signature style all over it: fused into the skin, it gains in warmth and sensuality as the body heats up; always on the brink of consciousness but never quite openly there. I catch whiffs now and then and if I lean over the spots I sprayed it’s most definitely there, but it doesn’t come across as “you’re wearing perfume.”

I agree with almost all of it, but especially with her last paragraph: gs03 really does melt into the skin as something that is like an elegant, clean extension of your own, slightly warmed body, only with a subtle hint of musky, woody florals.

Given my personal tastes, I’m far from the target audience for gs03, but I think those who are in that group will like it. It’s a good perfume which completely meets Biehl’s stated goals of taking an eau de cologne and re-imagining it as something with greater depth, warmth and modernity. gs03 is also intended to be something elegant for casual, perhaps daytime, use — and I can see that as well. It’s absolutely unisex, versatile, and easy to wear. Those who are looking for something very fresh, clean, and understated, but with a soft, refined, floral, woody touch will undoubtedly enjoy it quite a bit. And its moderate sillage combined with excellent good longevity makes gs03 perfect for office wear. In fact, there is such a professional feel to its restrained, elegance that I keep visualizing a banker in an expensive, dark business suit. It certainly is a fragrance that morphs drastically from that opening image of a crisp, cool snowy Alpine landscape dotted by pine trees and with orange blossom as the sole burst of bright colour. And the iris part is very pretty, indeed. My only word of caution is that you have to really like soapy scents and clean, white musk. If you do, then give gs03 a sniff.

DISCLOSURE: Perfume sample, courtesy of Hypoluxe. I do not do paid reviews. As always, I make it clear in advance to the perfume company or to distributors that there is no guarantee of a positive review — or even any review at all. My first obligation is to my readers, and to be completely candid in my opinions.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: gs03 is an eau de parfum that comes in a 100 ml/3.3 fl oz bottle and which retails for $195 or €150. In the U.S.: gs03 is available at Lucky Scent, Osswald NYC (but not yet listed on their online website), Avery Fine Perfumery New Orleans, Blackbird Ballard Seattle, and Henri Bendel NYC (also not yet listed on their website), with selected additional stores to follow. In Europe: gs03 is obviously available at Thorsten Biehl’s biehl. parfumkunstwerke in Hamburg, though their website does not seem to have an e-store. It is also carried at Essenza Nobile for €150.

Perfume Review – Amouage Fate (Man)

Posted on June 24, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Corsica is usually associated with its rocky cliffs, Napoleon, and the Mediterranean sea, but I think Corsica has a special smell, especially inland: slightly dusty, dry, very woody, and sweetly floral. In parts (namely those where I was clambering up rocky mountains like a dying billy-goat), it smelled strongly of immortelle, a flower which is very common to the island, sweet woods, dried greens, and dustiness. So it is Corsica which comes to mind when I tried Fate (Man), the dry, woody, immortelle-based fragrance that is the latest release from the royal perfume house of Amouage.

Corsica. Photo by: Rolling Thunder. Source: Trailjournals.com
http://www.trailjournals.com/entry.cfm?id=393192

Fate — in a dual Men and Women’s versions — was launched just last week in Oman, and will be officially released worldwide in July. A reader of the blog, “Dubaiscents,” whose generosity is only surpassed by her thoughtfulness, sweetness and kindness sent me a sample of both fragrances. I thought I would start with Fate for Men (hereinafter just “Fate”) which was created by Karine Vinchon-Spehner, and which Amouage describes as follows:

Fate for Man is a spicy and woody construction parodying the force and power of the inevitable.

Top notes: mandarin, saffron, absinth [wormwood], ginger, cumin.

Heart notes: everlasting flower [Immortelle], rose, frankincense, lavandin, cistus, copahu.

Base notes: labdanum, cedarwood, liquorice, tonka bean, sandalwood, musk.

Source: CaFleureBon

There is a detailed backstory in the official description of the fragrance about how the “Book of Fate is opened by the mysterious puppetmaster and the carousel, symbolising the wheel of fortune, is set in motion.” There is also talk about how “’Fate’ for man and woman explores the uncertainty of the future and the universal principal [sic] by which the order of things is inescapably prescribed. In his latest conquest, Amouage Creative Director Christopher Chong proclaims a finale that parodies the force of the inevitable, veiled in the mysticism of the unknown.” It’s lovely prose, but it’s not what comes to mind when I wear the perfume. I simply see sunny Corsica.

I tested Fate twice and, while the openings were largely the same, the nuances were slightly different. The first time, Fate opened on my skin with a split second burst of citrus that was quickly replaces by loads of ginger and flickers of dry cumin powder. The scent was simultaneously sweet, pungent, sharp, and slightly dusty in a dried, herbal, powdered sort of way. Immortelle soon followed, and it was my favorite manifestation of the note: the dry, floral aspect where you can smell the flowers as well as the slightly herbal stem. Underlying the whole thing was an amorphous woody base that smelled sweet but dry. The focal point of the opening minutes, however, was the ginger which felt pungent, spicy, biting and a little sharp.

Immortelle, or Helichrysum in Corsica. Source: Wikicommons.

Ginger. iStock photo via Wetpaint.com

The second time I tried Fate, it opened with that same fleeting citrus element, but the main thrust was immortelle. There were flickers of abstract woodiness, ginger, sweetness, and the same subtle hint of cumin powder, but it was the immortelle that really dominated the show. This time, it was beautifully infused with a honey nuance which I assume stemmed from the labdanum in the base. The ginger was much less powerful, and it had different undertones. It was simultaneously like sharp, fresh ginger, but also a little more like dry, ginger powder, and lightly sugared, crystallized ginger as well. This time, the herbal element was also different. Instead of some nebulous “dry green” note, I smelled something that was just like dried tarragon with its anise-like undertones. I know licorice is one of the elements in Fate, but, to me, that has the aroma of the chewy, black candy with its sharper, darker characteristics. What I smell in Fate in the opening hour is something much more like herbal anisic facets of dried tarragon.

Artemisia Absinthe or Wormwood. Source: Esacademic.com

Despite these subtle differences, the rest of the perfume’s development remained largely the same in both tests. Five minutes in, the wormwood (also known as absinthe or Artemisia absinthium) starts to rise to the surface. It’s sweet, but has a faintly medicinal nuance that smells a little rotten and that strongly evokes the “noble rot” of agarwood (oud). Flickering in the background is a light, muted incense. The cumin has completely vanished from sight — something that will undoubtedly be a relief to the many cumin-phobes out there. I’ve read a few accounts where people have said that they experienced quite a bit of cumin at the start, but the note seems to be a dry, powdered one on their skin, too, and nothing reminiscent of stale, fetid sweat or Indian curries.

As time passes, Fate settles down into its primary essence in this first stage: a dry floral arrangement of immortelle with ginger, sweetened but slightly medicinal wormwood, and frankincense. In the background, there are muted, ghostly flickers of a dry vanilla and warm, sweet muskiness that pop up every now and then. The interesting thing about the scent is the wormwood. It has a slightly oud-like nuance, but it is also sweetened and honeyed. The primary notes fluctuate in intensity, but the overall bouquet remains largely unchanged.

The odd thing about Fate was that the dominant facet seemed to depend largely on temperature. Given where I live, I have the air-conditioning set at very chilly temperatures, and the wormwood in Fate seemed to take on a slightly biting, sharp, bracing tone in the opening hours. However, whenever I went outside into the warm, humid air, the note immediately turned soft, rounded, smooth, almost creamy, and definitely sweet. All medicinal elements retreated, until I re-entered the house and was exposed again to the arctic air. I tried it a few times to see and, each and every time, Fate bloomed in the humid, night air to become significantly more floral and with a sweeter, less oud-like version of wormwood.

Incense stick. Source: Stock footage and Shutterstock.com.

Two hours into Fate’s development, the whole thing changes quite dramatically. Indoors or outdoors, Fate has suddenly become a very ambered, sandalwood fragrance that is smoother, warmer, and better rounded. The wormwood’s medicinal veneer has been replaced by a lovely coating of honey from the labdanum, while a lightly peppered cedar stirs in the base. My favorite part, however, is the sandalwood which is rich, creamy, and warmly spiced. It’s absolutely beautiful. Furthermore, to my surprise, the immortelle has remained as a floral element, and hasn’t turned into the maple syrup that I dread so much. The dried, green, anisic herbal note still lurks underneath, but now, it is also joined by black licorice that is lightly salted and sweet. A hint of creamy, slightly vanillic lavender wafts daintily about, while a sweet muskiness dances at the edges like a golden light. The entire thing is intertwined by tendrils of frankincense smoke which tie the elements together like a ribbon does a bouquet.

Fate remains that way for many more hours. The bouquet of notes softens and becomes a skin scent around the start of the fourth hour, but the scent lingers for much longer. Around the sixth hour, Fate turns quite abstract and nebulous: it’s now simply immortelle woodiness infused by a light, sweet muskiness. It’s so sheer, you may think it’s gone, but Fate hangs on tenaciously. In its dying moment, a little over 10.25 hours from its start, Fate is nothing more than a vague, sweet woodiness. Both the middle phase with its beautiful sandalwood amber and the abstract drydown stage are absolutely lovely. Fate’s longevity was good on my voracious skin, but the sillage was moderate to soft. I sprayed, not dabbed, so I actually expected something much more powerful from Fate (especially given Amouage’s usual full-throttled nature), but the furthest it projected was in its first hour when it wafted about 3 inches above the skin.

Fate is a phenomenally complex, extremely unusual, refined, sophisticated scent that initially takes a little adjustment, but which definitely grows on you. The first time, I was very intrigued, but not wowed. I have a tendency to prefer the Women’s versions of Amouage fragrances as they are generally sweeter and not as dry, but the second time I tried Fate, I definitely sat up a little straighter. There is something fascinating about the notes, and the heat definitely improved the scent, in my opinion, by smoothing out some of the more bracing elements of the opening. It also rendered the perfume slightly sweeter which is something you may want to consider when testing Fate.

I think men will go quite crazy for Fate (Man), but I think a number of women will, too. Even though women will have their own version of the scent, Fate (Man) has such perfectly balanced sweetness in its undertones that it renders the fragrance quite unisex, in my opinion. If you like dry, spiced, woody fragrances or oud ones, and if you’re intrigued by the thought of Amouage’s signature frankincense combined with an unusual floral like immortelle, then I think you should definitely seek out a sample.

Fate Man with box.

With Fate, Amouage continues its distinction of being at the forefront of original fragrances that abound with depth, nuance, layers and complexity. Honestly, this is not a perfume that you may adore at first sniff, but it will keep you thinking, sniffing, and trying to pull apart all those beautifully crafted, well-blended layers. And the more you sniff it, the more it seems to sink its elegant, little floral-woody-smoky talons into you. By the time you’re finished, and you set eyes on that simply spectacular iridescent bottle, I fear you may be quite hooked. Even if, at the end, it turns out that you’re not fated for true love, I think you’ll concede that it’s a perfume worthy of huge respect. Try it, and see what your Fate will be.

DETAILS:

Availability & Stores: Fate (Man) is an eau de parfum and is available in two sizes: 1.7 oz/50 ml which costs $280 or €220; or 3.4 oz/100 ml eau de parfum which costs $340 or €270. As of the time of this post, the perfume is not yet officially released beyond the Amouage website and boutiques, but it will be widely available as of July 2013. Unfortunately, the perfume is currently sold out on Amouage online, but I’m sure that will be remedied soon. I will update this post with retail links much later when the perfume is officially released and becomes widely available.

Perfume Review: Infusion d’Iris L’Eau d’Iris by Prada (Limited Edition)

Posted on June 22, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Man cannot live solely on oriental perfumes, though clearly I do my best to try. Still, I recently decided to test Infusion d’Iris L’Eau d’Iris, the new flanker fragrance from Prada. The extremely wordy “Infusion d’Iris L’Eau d’Iris” (which I shall call just simply, “L’Eau d’Iris“) is a limited-edition eau de toilette which was released in March 2013 and which seems to be exclusive to a particular retailer in each country. For example, in the U.S., it is Macy’s department store; in Canada, it seems to be Holt Renfrew.

L’Eau d’Iris is a light-weight summer fragrance that follows on the heels of Prada’s original, 2007 hit, Infusion d’Iris. There have been a few other flankers since then, and you can read about the various versions from the men’s fragrance to the Eau Absolue (with photos of the differences in packaging or bottles) at The Perfume Shrine. Like all its siblings, L’Eau d’Iris was created by the perfumer, Daniela Roche Andrier (of Givaudan) and, according to Fragrantica, was “inspired by spring flowers and the fusing of iris and laurel in the gardens of Tuscany.” Its notes include:

Top notes: Moroccan mint, Tunisian neroli.

Heart: pink laurel bay, iris, rose, lily of the valley, orange blossom.

Base: white musk, woody notes, vanilla.

I have absolutely no idea what “pink laurel bay” smells like, and it wasn’t easy to research amidst all the references to regular bay leaves, but “laurel bay” appears to have an almond-like, powdery aroma. And, in truth, that is a large part of this very fresh, clean fragrance.

Source: Wallpaperban.com

L’Eau d’Iris opens on my skin with a citrus note that has a faintly soapy edge, followed by white musk and hints of powdery iris. A muted touch of rose lurks around the edges, but, like everything else to do with L’Eau d’Iris, it is soft and light. Less than five minutes into the perfume’s development, the iris takes over, the citrus element fades away, and an almond note rises to the surface. It is a little powdery and smells very much like heliotrope, a note often mixed with iris to create a lightly powdered, floral aroma. As many of you know, the smell of an iris can’t be extracted from the petals, so the scent is often recreated through distillation of its root, as well as through the addition of other elements. For those of you who are unfamiliar with what “iris” smells like, the note has often been compared to boiled carrots, lipstick, or powdery violets. Sometimes, the smell is slightly rooty, if there is a lot of orris root used in the fragrance, but generally it’s a rather cool, floral note. Here, in L’Eau d’Iris, the aroma is powdery, floral, and a little like that of sweet, boiled carrots.

Lily of the Valley, or Muguet.

Thirty minutes into the perfume’s development, L’Eau d’Iris shifts a little. For one thing, it becomes a complete skin scent that is much harder to detect. For another, the light, green, lily of the valley note and the whisper of rose that lurked at the perfume’s edges become even more muted. Taking their place is vanilla and almonds. The vanilla note starts off being light, thin and subtle, but it soon grows stronger and combines with the laurel leaf’s almond essence to create L’Eau d’Iris’ second most dominant accord.

Other elements start to become noticeable. From the start, there was a light alcohol element lurking at the edges of the fragrance. Midway during the second hour, it grows into something chemical and synthetic that really bothered me and gave me a slight headache. I can’t pinpoint if it stems from the white musk (which is always a synthetic ingredient), or from something else. In addition, the powder takes on a sour nuance that I found unpleasant. The second hour also saw the emergence of an amorphous, vague “woody” undertone that was very beige and slightly synthetic. It makes the iris note feel a little more rooty and dry, less purely floral; it also helps to cut through the vanilla and almond.

Source: 123rf.com

As a whole, L’Eau d’Iris was primarily a simple fragrance of powdered iris, vanilla, and clean musk. There are tiny flickers of muguet (or lily of the valley) that lurk in the background, but they are always very subtle. Equally subtle is the light soapiness underlying the scent; it’s almost more of an indirect thing that simply adds to the overall impression of a fresh, clean scent. In its final moments, L’Eau d’Iris was a sheer, abstract, lightly powdered, floral, iris fragrance with a subtle carrot-like nuance, soapy musk, and the merest suggestion of woodiness. At no time did I smell mint, orange blossom, or neroli. On occasion, the fragrance did evoke the scent of makeup powder. All in all, L’Eau d’Iris lasted just short of 5.5 hours on my skin, with moderate sillage at first that quickly dropped even further to become a virtual veil on the skin. At times, it was extremely hard to detect in its sheerness and lightness. I realise that L’Eau d’Iris is meant to be a light “eau” version of an eau de toilette, but I’m not the only one who thought the scent was extremely weak.

Take, for example, the review from Makeup Stash which is the only in-depth assessment that I could find for L’Eau d’Iris. The blogger described the scent as “fleeting,” and seemed singularly unimpressed with the perfume as a whole. (I share her feelings.) The review reads, in part, as follows:

The pink laurel carries an almond hint, while the iris is clearly powdery-floral. […][¶] Pleasantly powdery with a high floral note, I could barely discern the mint of Morocco (meant to illuminate the composition) whose faint whiff edges the scent. When I first learnt of this fragrance, I was intrigued and pleased by the unusual inclusion of the mint. I’d expected its presence to be more apparently – intrusive, even – so the barely-there nature was a bit of a disappointment. Still, it’s nice to have this lively sprinkle.

Unfortunately, the scent disappears very quickly. In this aspect, it surely lives up to its ephemeral inspiration. While it is an agreeable scent and very likely a crowd-pleaser, it is more fleeting than I’d expected it to be. The brand depicts it as being ‘transient yet unforgettable’ but the latter part is hard to live up to, if the fragrance doesn’t last long enough for me to grasp its essence. In my many days of using it, it’s still hovering on the periphery of memorable. Perhaps a scent memory moment will hit me one day and it’ll finally be of recollective substance.

I didn’t smell mint at all, but I completely agree on the gist of her review: L’Eau d’Iris has a pleasant, transient and wholly forgettable nature.

On Fragrantica, in contrast, there is quite a bit of love for L’Eau d’Iris. And, in fact, a lot of people detected the mint note, with one commentator writing: “This is too boring. It’s fresh, sweet and minty. The most dominant notes are iris and mint.” There seems to be a split on another issue, namely the soapiness. One person called L’Eau d’Iris “the soapiest perfume I have ever smelled,” though she loved it. Another said it was not as soapy or dry as the original, Infusion d’Iris, but more floral and green. One couldn’t stand the sour baby powder note that she detected, while another loved all the powder. But no-one talked about orange blossoms or neroli. I have to say, I have a loathing of extremely soapy fragrances, but I thought the note was quite manageable in L’Eau d’Iris. I struggled much more with the synthetic white musk.

All in all, I think that L’Eau d’Iris is a perfume that will appeal to those who like light, fresh, clean, soft, powdery, soapy florals of an extremely unobtrusive nature. It is the furthest thing from my personal cup of tea, but then I’m not one for iris scents in general, let alone something like this. However, if I were to put myself in the shoes of someone who likes these sorts of fragrances, I would probably write a review like that of the Fragrantica commentator, “Vintage_Scent“:

This is my new Spring in a bottle! It is soft pastels and delicate pink petals all riding on a fluffy, powdery cloud! The iris is just as beautiful as ever, but it is definately a light-as-a-feather soft pastel iris. […] The mint is light, but it is always there, all the way through the drydown, which is simply sublime. The drydown is probably my favorite part. It is so soft and angelic, like angels’s wings. […] I must say that midway through this perfume has to be the soapiest perfume I have ever smelled…then the lovliest iris blooms at the end in the most romantic way. Beautiful.

I can completely see how someone who adores fresh, clean, soft florals might view the fragrance that way. At the same time, I have to caution those who may not be a fan of powdery fragrances, especially as the note turned a little sour on someone other than myself. And if you’re looking for a perfume with sillage, forget about it!

I’m trying to be fair to L’Eau d’Iris, but I really don’t think it’s particularly special or noteworthy. However, if you love Prada’s hugely popular original, Infusion d’Iris, or if you love powdery, clean scents in general, then it is probably worth a sniff.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Infusion d’Iris L’Eau d’Iris is a Limited Edition Eau de Toilette. It is only available in 3.4 oz/100 ml. In the U.S.: the fragrance is exclusive to Macy’s where it retails for $77. Macy’s has free domestic shipping on orders over $50. Nowhere else will sell this particular, limited-edition flanker — not Nordstrom, not Sephora, not Neiman Marcus. Also, I don’t know for how long this perfume will be available, or whether it will be common to all Macy’s brick-and-mortar stores. Outside the U.S.: In Canada, I’ve read that the perfume is available at Holt Renfrew. For other countries, I honestly have no clue where L’Eau d’Iris may be sold. It seems to be exclusive to one retailer in each country. Oddly, I don’t see it listed even on Prada’s own website. It has to be available in Prada boutiques, however, so you may want to check the Store Locator guide on the company’s website or to call one of their stores near you. Samples: The Perfumed Court sells samples starting at $3 for a 1 ml vial.