Review En Bref: Vero Profumo Kiki Eau de Parfum

Posted on July 27, 2013 by Kafkaesque

As always, my Reviews en Bref are for a fragrance that, for whatever reason, didn’t warrant one of my long, exhaustive, detailed assessments. In this case, it’s Vero Profumo‘s Kiki Eau de Parfum.

Kiki takes me back to my childhood. It returns me to the sun-drenched hills and promenades of Cannes, to the Croisette where we’d sit at Le Festival to have a sandwich, and to the hills where our villa’s long driveway was lined with enormous lavender bushes and mimosa trees. Sun, blue skies, the glitter of turquoise waters, the relaxing heat of a city made fragrant by the flowers that surrounded you everywhere — those are all parts of my childhood summers in Cannes, a city that is just a 15-minute car ride from Grasse whose famous floral fields have made it the perfume-making center of the world.

Unfortunately, not all aspects of that trip down memory lane are pleasant. My time in Cannes created a strong backlash against lavender that, at times, seemed to besiege me from every nook, cranny, drawer, cupboard, kitchen, restaurant, boutique, promenade, street, house, garden, market, and every other possible, conceivable location imaginable. It was well-nigh unbearable to someone with a sensitive nose, and it left a definite mark. Since that time, I cannot stand lavender unless it’s done really well and is not abrasive. That’s not the case for Kiki, a fragrance whose opening I briefly struggled with before it turned into a plain, pretty, banal blur.

Source: Luckyscent.

Vero Profumo (sometimes written with odd punctuation as “.vero.profumo.“) is a Swiss niche perfume line that was established in 2007 with three pure parfums called Onda, Kiki, and Rubj. Kiki in Eau de Parfum form came along three years later, in 2010, and the new concentration had a new formula and notes to go along with it. This time, there was passion fruit — which is probably why Fragrantica puts Kiki in the “aromatic fruity” category. Luckyscent provides the full list of notes:

Lavender essential oil, bergamot, citron, passion fruit, lavender absolute, geranium, caramel, patchouli, musk.

Dried lavender in a marché in Provence. Source: 123rf.com

Kiki Eau de Parfum opens on my skin with a sonic boom of sharp, pungent, herbal, almost medicinal, dried lavender. In less than a minute, however, it is infused by a strange, intense sweetness that just barely hints at being caramel. The bitter, harsh dried lavender of the sachets that plagued my childhood summers — the exact type of lavender I despise the most — is on full show here. It continues unabated for a few minutes until suddenly, drastically and quite dramatically, it starts to soften. It’s now slightly gentler, warmer, sweeter, rounder, and subtly flecked by a tart, tangy fruitness and by the merest floral whisper from the geranium.

The fruit notes are interesting. Fresh citruses are mixed into the tart, tangy, sweet, and slightly musky character of the passion fruit. Quickly, they start to infuse the lavender, creating a potent bouquet of bracing, sharp, pungently dry, forceful, but sweetly fragrant lavender with tart, sensuously musky passion fruit and general sweetness. The caramel, patchouli, and subtle, slightly spicy, floral tones of the geranium work in the background, having an indirect effect but never being forcefully noticeable in their own right. It underscores how well-blended Vero Profumo fragrances always are, but it also marks the beginning of something that becomes problematic later on: blurriness. We’ll get to that later.

Sachets of dried lavender at a Provence marché. Source: Picstopin.com

Ten minutes into Kiki’s development, the only distinctive, individual notes are passion fruit and lavender ensconced in an amorphous, airy sweetness. It never feels as though there is full-on caramel in Kiki; there is nothing at all like the rich, heavy, unctuous gooeyiness of the caramel you find in desserts. Actually, it rather feels as though the caramel is infused with vanilla, whipped into a frothy, bubbly, foam-like airiness. It’s extremely pretty, but very subtle. So subtle that it fails to ever fully tame the forceful pungency of that lavender. Even with the sweet notes that infuse it, the lavender is still too much like those Grasse dried sachets of my nightmares with their sharp, abrasive, aggressive, herbal blasts that assault everything they touch. (Maybe I need therapy for my feelings of hostility towards the poor plant?)

Kiki continues its bilateral focus for a while longer. At the twenty-minute mark, the perfume is bracing lavender, soft lavender, sweetened lavender, and fruity lavender, lightly infused with sweet musk and sweetness. If my words sound repetitive and redundant, it’s because they’re meant to be. Kiki is primarily and predominantly one singular theme with only minor, subtle variations. In the background, hints of citruses twinkle like dainty, tiny lights one sees in distant hills. Soft patchouli darts around like a firefly. A very pretty, plush, warn, snuggly softness stirs at the base, feeling as cozy as a cashmere throw. The whole thing is subsumed into a very powerful, potent, forceful combination that is, simultaneously, very airy and very lightweight in feel. Objectively, it’s very pretty; intellectually, I can’t find any of it to be very complex or interesting.

Less than an hour into Kiki’s development, it all starts to turn a little hazy. The perfume’s texture feels creamy, soft, and smooth, but the notes are increasingly blurry. There are a lot of very well-blended perfumes where the elements don’t feel quite so nebulous, intangible, abstract and amorphous. At least, not quite so soon. Kiki has turned into an almost hazy blur of soft, sweet, musky floralness that just barely hints at lavender. Once in a blue moon, the vanillic caramel pops up like a ghost to feel a little more concrete, but it is incredibly fleeting. There is a sweet musk, presumably from the passion fruit, but it has no concrete basis. Even the hint of lavender feels like a flittering, darting thing that you’re trying to grab onto, but it keeps slipping away. It’s an exercise in frustration to pin anything down beyond the general, abstract, creamy, floral sweetness. Even Casper the Friendly Ghost has more structure to his shape and form.

That’s all there is to Kiki on my skin. For the next few hours, its mellow, creamy, floral sweetness darts about like a will o’ the wisp, becoming closer and closer to the skin. It’s a pretty smell, but it’s nothing more than that. The word “boring” actually comes to mind. Exactly 3.75 minutes into the perfume’s development, Kiki is nothing more than sweet, musky vanilla on my skin. It lingers on, soft as a gauzy whisper, for another few hours, then dies completely just over the 6.75 hour mark.

Some of you may think that I can’t objectively and fairly judge a perfume that is centered around a note I dislike so much. You may have a point. However, if reviewers only focused on things they knew they would like, then every magazine, newspaper or website would have to hire thousands of sub-specialists. That’s simply not reality. Perfume reviewing is, by its very nature, even more subjective than most fields, but that doesn’t mean my issues with a particular note automatically doom a fragrance. I loathe ISO E Super, but I’ve given good reviews for a number of fragrances with the dreaded note. I am not a passionate iris fan, but that hasn’t stopped me from loving a few perfumes built around it, either. And, regular readers will know that I have very much appreciated a couple of fragrances which showcased lavender. I gave enormous praise to Histoires de Parfums‘ 1725 Casanova, a lavender aromatic fougère which just barely straddles the gourmand category with its vanilla. It’s lovely enough that I’ve actually considered wearing it. I also greatly admired and liked Santa Maria Novella‘s Ambra which has lavender with neroli and birch tar. And I’ve adored a number of fragrances that have clary sage, a lavender-like plant, or which have featured lavender in conjunction with other notes. So, I don’t hate all perfumes with lavender, but they have to be really good ones to get over my lack of enthusiasm for the note.

At the end of the day, Kiki simply isn’t all that special in my opinion. What manifested itself on my skin was pretty, yes, but it’s neither interesting nor complex. I think the whole thing actually verges on the plain and banal. And that is a far greater problem to me than a brief twenty-minute struggle with the lavender at the beginning. So, Kiki is a complete pass. I’ll stick to Vero Profumo’s honey-vetiver chypre, Onda, whose complexities, nuances, range, and beauty made my jaw drop. It’s a brilliant fragrance that has my heartiest admiration, intellectually and emotionally. Kiki does not.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: The Kiki fragrance being reviewed here is only the Eau de Parfum version and retails for $200 or €125 (often more from different European vendors) for a 50 ml/1.7 oz bottle. In the U.S.: Kiki is available at Luckyscent for $200 for a 50 ml/1.7 oz bottle. (The Vero Profumo website does not seem to sell the perfumes.) Outside of the U.S.: the Vero Profumo Facebook page offers a whole list of European retailers from Kiev, Russia, to Oslo, Norway, and Italy. It also adds: “Since 2010 distributed worldwide by Campomarzio70 in Rome Italy, in selective boutiques and perfumeries such as ROJA DOVE, Harrods Urban Retreat London, JOVOY Paris, Parfums Rares and many more. Campomarzio70, marketing@campomarzio70.it will inform you where you find the nearest retailer in your country.” I checked the website for Campomarzio70 and it doesn’t seem to sell the perfumes online, since I could find no “online cart” (so to speak), no pricing options or no way to purchase the perfumes, but you can try to check for yourself. In the UK, you can find all Vero Profumo perfumes at Harrod’s Roja Dove Haute Parfumerie, but there is no online website through which you can purchase perfumes. (It is not the same site as the Harrod’s website.) You can also find Kiki (and the full Vero Profumo line along with samples) at London’s Bloom Perfumery which sells the Eau de Parfum for £138.00. In Paris, at Jovoy Paris, Kiki retails for €145. In the Netherlands, you can find it at Leanne Tio Haute Parfumerie where it costs €150. In Italy, you can find it at Alla Violetta boutique for €125. Germany’s First In Fragrance sells Kiki EDP for €150, but they also carry the complete Vero Profumo line, offers sample sets, and ship throughout the world. Samples: I obtained Kiki from Surrender to Chance as part of Vero Profumo Three-Perfume Sample Set (Onda, Rubj, and Kiki); the set is only for the EDP concentration and prices begin $13.99 for a 1/2 ml vial of each. Surrender to Chance also sells Kiki EDP individually starting at $5.99 for a 1/2 ml vial, and up.

Perfume Review – État Libre d’Orange Fils de Dieu

Posted on July 8, 2013 by Kafkaesque

He brings the sun.

Bringing the warm joyousness of the sun by way of a perfumed ode to the Asian tropics — an ode that sparkles with the very brightest of zingy, crisp citruses; that luxuriates in the creamy sweetness of sticky coconut Thai rice; and that strokes you with the velvety headiness of jasmine, before turning into a soft, golden, amber embrace. That is the journey offered by Fils de Dieu, a unisex eau de parfum from the whimsical, playfully avant-garde, often satirical, always provocative French perfume house, État Libre d’Orange (hereinafter just “État Libre“). The perfume’s full name is actually Fils de Dieu, Du Riz et Des Agrumes which means “Son of God, of Rice and of Citruses” and, to make matters a little more confusing, used to be called Philippine Houseboy. (Terrible name! Thank God for the change.)

Fils de Dieu was created by Ralf Schweiger, and was released in 2012 to much acclaim, landing in the Top Five of CaFleureBon‘s Best Perfumes of 2012 list. The perfume veers far outside the parameters of my usual style or preferences, but I actually like it and think it would be a great, easy, casual summer scent.

État Libre describes Fils de Dieu and its notes as follows:

He brings the sun.

Fils de dieu comes from the Philippines to spread a message of warmth and enlightenment. Here, find an innocent wisdom that points to dreams and liberation. This is the golden eye that reflects beauty and conflict, rapture and pain. Fils de dieu is an emotional fragrance, a scent that requires a sympathetic connection between the server and the served, the giver and the taker, and the willingness to exchange roles.

Composition : Ginger, coriander leaves, lime, shiso, coconut JE, rice, cardamom JE, jasmine, cinnamon, may rose, tonka bean, vetiver, musk, amber, leather, castoreum…

I have no idea what “JE” stands for, but let’s move on. What caught my attention with Fils de Dieu is how it can be many different fragrances in one. I tested it twice — once in chilly, air-conditioned temperatures, and once in muggy warmth. The first time, and with the impact of the cold, I noticed Fils de Dieu had three, distinctly separate stages that can be summed up essentially as follows:

Stage One: Almost all crisp, aromatic citrus cologne notes – about 90% citrus, 8% lemongrass-y vetiver, and 2% jasmine;

Stage Two: Primarily jasmine in nature – about 75% jasmine, 15% citrus, 5% lemongrass-y vetiver, and 5% other notes;

Stage Three: A whole other perfume — fluctuating levels of vanilla and amber for the most part, followed by spices, a dash of castoreum, and flickers of other elements.

Yet, it was an entirely different matter when I turned off the air-conditioning (which was a painful experience given where I live), and let the tropical humidity do its work. In the sort of thick, wet air that must resemble Fils de Dieu’s Philippine inspiration, the perfume bloomed to become the sort of scent it was clearly intended to be: a slightly sweet ode to Thai food, interspersed with exotic, tropical, heady jasmine, custardy vanilla, citrus, spices, and sensuous warmth.

THE FIRST TEST:

Let’s start with the first test, where Fils de Dieu bewildered me by being a crisp, citrus cologne for the entirety of its opening. The perfume starts on my skin with fresh shiso that smells minty, just lightly peppery, and incredibly fresh. Within seconds, it is joined by zesty lime and bergamot, both shining brightly with an almost translucent radiance.

Source: onlyhdwallpapers.com

Fils de Dieu quickly softens, with the citrus notes fading to slightly more muted levels, and flecked with a bright rose tonality, along with the merest hint of airy jasmine. Then, the citrus comes back, stronger and heartier than ever, only this time headed up by bergamot. As always, its main companion is the lime, which feels a wee bit bitter now. Rounding out the top three notes is vetiver which has a very lemongrass-like nuance here, instead of its more common, rooty, dark, or earthy characteristics. Five minutes later, a rice note creeps in. It’s milky, barely sweetened, and evocative of boiled jasmine. The note is so insubstantial, however, that it really takes vociferous inhalations to detect it for the brief moments that it’s there.

For the next 90 minutes, Fils de Dieu is nothing more than a masculine sort of cologne on my skin. It’s citrus, more citrus, a dash of vetiver, a few drops of jasmine, and that mysteriously vanishing rice note. There is a minute, tiny, faint hum of synthetics at the base — something I’ve noticed in all Ralf Schweiger’s fragrances to varying degrees — but there are no spices, no vanilla, and absolutely no coconut whatsoever. I actually felt a little cheated, given all that I’d heard about Fils de Dieu’s supposed resemblance to Thai Curry. Well, not on me, at least not under chilly temperatures… Over time, the strength of the main notes varies (and, sometimes, the jasmine feels much more dominant), but, ultimately, there is no escaping the citruses and the cologne impression.

Rice stalk via nsf.gov

Then, 2.25 hours in, Fils de Dieu changes. Parts of my arm now emit faint traces of really sweet, boiled rice infused with jasmine; another part wafts jasmine with amber and a touch of castoreum; and a third (much smaller) part is simply nothing more than lemongrass vetiver and cool lime. It’s bewildering. Clearly, Fils de Dieu is a beautifully blended, well-crafted fragrance that reflects different notes at different times. But, for the majority of this test, it was “fragrant” in the most aromatic sense of the word, as something that was primarily citrus and jasmine in nature.

Salted Caramel & Nutella Rice Krispie Treats. Source: The Mini Baker. (Click on photo for link to website and the recipe.)

The slow progression of the scent continues, morphing slowly into its third and final phase. Around the third hour, Fils de Dieu turns into jasmine fragrance with a sweet, dry vanilla that has a lightly perfumed finish and the merest hint of cinnamon. At the four-hour mark, however, the perfume has a complete metamorphosis, turning into an ambery butterfly with an almost boozy edge. It’s plush, nutty, infused with cardamon and cinnamon, and has a distinctly toffee undertone. The rice note pops up again, but this time it’s toasted; it smells a little like Rice Krispies would — if they were covered by toffee, cinnamon and amber.

Source: layoutsparks.com

The amber is beautiful here, with the sort of rich depth that you’d normally find in ambergris — but without the salty, marshy, slightly sweaty characteristics of the element. I chalk the rich depth of the note to the castoreum which definitely accounts for the subtle tinge of sweet musk lurking around Fils de Dieu’s edges. Underneath the amber is the lightest suggestion of leather that feels very smooth, supple, warm, as if it had been burnished by sweet resins. There is no longer any vanilla to distract from all the gold, bronze, umber visuals. As time passes, the perfume continued to soften and the notes turn more abstract.

A little short of 8.25 hours in, Fils de Dieu finally fades away, nothing more than musky, ambered sweetness. Its sillage was moderate at the start, continued to drop after the first hour, and then faded away to a skin scent around the middle of the fifth hour. The truly astonishing thing, though, is the degree of change. Between the spices, the languorous, castoreum-infused resins, the sweetness, and the plush richness of the scent, Fils de Dieu did a complete 180 from its opening as a crisp, citrus cologne. You couldn’t get a more drastic change — which is why I decided I needed to test the perfume under very different conditions.

SECOND TEST:

For my second test, I turned off the air-conditioning, opened the windows, and let the humidity of the muggy swamp outside invade my office. The heat wave has left, so the difference in internal temperature according to the thermostat only seems to be about 16 degrees, but the humidity is easily close to 90%. And what a difference that made to Fils de Dieu! It suddenly turned into the fragrance that it was supposed to be.

Shiso Leaf and Lime. Source: Sweetfineday.com (Link to website embedded within photo.)

Shiso Leaf & Lime. Source: Sweetfineday.com (Website link embedded within photo.)

Once again, Fils de Dieu opens as a citrus scent with the brightest of green notes. There is shiso leaf with its lightly peppered, minty aroma, followed by lemon and bergamot – both as airy, fresh and bright as a blade of grass. A quiet sweetness soon infuses the notes, turning them into something warmer, richer, and less crisp. Hints of vetiver, still with a lemongrass nuance, creep in. So do the lightest hints of vanilla and ginger (something I never detected at all in my first test).

Coconut Lime Rice Custard. Source: medifoods.co.nz –

But then, it all changes, and far more quickly than it did the first time around. No less than twenty-five minutes into the perfume’s development, Fils de Dieu turns into a scent that is primarily sweet rice boiled in coconut cream and sprinkled by a light veil of jasmine! The bergamot, lime, and light green herbs are still there, but they are mere seasoning to accentuate the main dish.

Double boiled coconut cream dessert via womenworld.org.

The rice note is strong, sweet and lactonic, infused by coconut that feels, simultaneously, both like the light, delicate milk, and the richer, buttery cream. At the same time, there is a strong flutter of lemon-tinged coriander leaves at the back; the ginger feels slightly sweetened; and the vanilla takes on an eggy, custard richness that’s speckled with lime. Good heavens, what a sharp contrast! Fils de Dieu remains that way for hours and hours, fluctuating only in the degree of some of its notes, but never changing its primary essence. On occasion, cinnamon will make a small appearance, but that’s about the only difference.

Coconut Lime Rice Pudding Brulee via Becks & Posh blogspot. (Click on photo for the recipe and website link.)

Then, around the end of the fourth hour, there are changes. The rice note goes from milky sweet to something that is toasted and, again, strongly calls to mind Rice Krispies. It is covered with a light toffee and with a vanilla note that is still custardy but, now, it also has a powdery aspect to it. All the notes sit atop a base of plush amber that has been enriched by the warm, light, musky, velvety aspects of castoreum, along with cardamom and cinnamon. It’s all very muted, light, soft and very sheer — and quite a contrast to the rich, heavier, deeper base of Fils de Dieu during the cold temperature test.

Clearly, the humidity sucked all the richness out of the amber marrow because the drydown never reached the same depths with the heat. Starting in the sixth hour, the perfume feels more like simple, generic, uninteresting amber with some sweetness and musk. In its final moments during the second test, as in the first, Fils de Dieu was just sweet muskiness, and nothing more. Oddly enough, the heat seemed to extend the lifespan of the scent which lasted 11.25 hours on my skin, instead of 8.25. I can’t quite understand it because it seems like it should be the reverse, unless the heat just makes the musk bloom. As for the sillage, it was even softer than usual with the heat.

OVERALL:

The differences in the test show something beyond just the impact of climate. They demonstrate just how well-blended the fragrance can be, throwing off different notes under different conditions. In all cases, however, the perfume didn’t feel wholly and completely gourmand in nature, despite the foodie resemblance to certain Asian dishes. The simple reason is that Fils de Dieu isn’t massively sweet; the citrus elements help ensure it never verges on the cloying and keep an element of freshness about the scent. And it really is a very fragrant one, in the best sense of the word.

Is Fils de Dieu revolutionary, edgy, and funky? Absolutely not! Is it cozy, comforting, incredibly easy to wear? Definitely. I don’t know how often one would normally want to smell like Fils de Dieu’s more rice-centered notes, but I think the perfume’s different personalities give one some options. Its more zesty, aromatic, citrus freshness in cold temperatures makes me think that those who want to avoid a “foodie” scent can use it in cooler weather, while those who enjoy the sweetly lactonic, rice and jasmine aspect can opt for the summer months to let it really bloom.

There seems to be quite a bit of love for Fils de Dieu in the perfume community, but there are also plenty of people who don’t find it all that interesting. For example, Now Smell This was distinctly unimpressed, with Kevin writing:

Fils de Dieu opens with gingery lime, and “green” coriander and pungent shiso leaf. As the sprightly opening notes begin to disappear (and they disappear fast), the scent of “nutty” coconut makes a brief appearance and then…? Fils de Dieu begins to disappear. Was that IT?

Fils de Dieu is one of those scents that falters and then makes a comeback. After the opening fizzles, the comeback notes are mild jasmine, hazy vetiver, dry, tonka bean-scented rice (to my nose, this is more a toasted rice note, not steamed rice or rice pudding) and…leather (the most “background,” powdery, see-thru leather note you can imagine). Fils de Dieu’s rose note is very mild; it disappeared quickly on my skin, but I could detect it on my shirt for hours. Fils de Dieu’s base notes smell of shamefaced musk (certainly not the bold castoreum I was expecting) mingling with a light amber-y accord. […][¶]

Fils de Dieu is only semi-tropical and, for me, doesn’t conjure a houseboy, a sunny god, or the Philippines (or any Southeast Asian locale). Fils de Dieu does remind me of old-style, lightly spiced white floral feminine French perfumes from long ago.

I wonder if he tried it with the air-conditioning on? Like him, I smelled nothing tropical in my first test either, though I did have that wonderful drydown with the chilly temperature which seems infinitely better than what he got. Oddly, CaFleureBon‘s experience seems to be a mixture of both of mine together:

The Asian vibe is accentuated right from the top notes of Fils de Dieu as a tart lime and smooth shiso leave no doubt about what part of the world your nose is located in. Ginger and coconut join in to add a tropical facet to the early going. The shiso and the coconut really are the stars in the top notes. M Schwieger chooses only one floral note for Fils de Dieu; jasmine. He surrounds the jasmine with a steamed rice accord and a spicy duo of cardamom and cinnamon. The rice accord is beautifully realized and M Schwieger uses it to add a palpable humidity to the heart of Fils de Dieu. The base notes are animalic but kept exquisitely balanced and well controlled. Leather, musk, and castoreum create a slightly sexual accord over a healthy foundation of vetiver and amber.

Over on Basenotes, the tropics and food also seem to be the main conclusions of the day — but few consider Fils de Dieu to be as nuanced or as good as CaFleureBon did. Most of the commentators talk about Thai food or curries, though one found Fils de Dieu to be primarily citruses and vanilla that turned a little coconut-y at the end to create an average, spicy oriental that, in his opinion, veered sharply from État Libre’s best. Food — and rice, in specific — are also the focus at Fragrantica where, unlike at Basenotes, the posters generally seem to adore Fils de Dieu. One commentator found the fragrance to be primarily jasmine and vanilla, but the majority experienced the full complement of notes, with a number talking about the rich, musky, amber drydown.

I don’t like very foodie scents and I cannot abide anything gourmand, but I would wear Fils de Dieu. Granted, not all that often, but it’s an easy, uncomplicated comfort scent in my opinion, and I enjoyed different parts of each of its split personalities. For me, the sweet, heady jasmine and the zesty, fresh citruses prevent the fragrance from verging too heavily into either problematic category. Once Fils de Dieu loses its purely shiso-lime-bergamot facade, the overall bouquet keeps you coming back for one more sniff. Plus, it’s thankfully not sweet enough to be a true dessert scent. And, it’s very affordable, too! That said, I would not recommend Fils de Dieu to someone who dislikes even minor foodie elements in their perfume, nor to someone looking for a highly complex, sophisticated scent. Also, I think that a man who doesn’t like sweeter floral fragrances may find Fils de Dieu to be a little feminine in nature, despite the citrus top notes. But if you’re looking for a casual, cozy, sunny fragrance, give Fils de Dieu a try. You just may want to turn decrease the air-conditioning when you do so….

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Fils de Dieu, du Riz et Des Agrumes is an eau de parfum that is most commonly available in a 1.7 ml/50 ml size, but which can also be purchased directly from Etat Libre’s website in a large 3.4 oz/100 ml bottle as well. The prices listed there are in Euros: €69.00 for a 50 ml/1.7 oz bottle, and €119.00 for a 100 ml/3.4 oz bottle. Samples are also available for €3.00. In the U.S.: Fils de Dieu can be purchased from LuckyScent for $80 for a 50 ml/1.7 oz bottle, with samples for $3, and from MinNY. You can also purchase it from Parfum1 which offers free domestic shipping. (International shipping is available for a fee.) Outside the U.S.: You can purchase Fils de Dieu from Etat Libre’s new London store at 61 Redchurch Street, as well as from its Paris one located at 69, rue des Archives, 75003. Elsewhere in the UK, I found Fils de Dieu on the NkdMan site for £52.50 for the 1.7 oz/50 ml bottle and with free UK delivery. It is also sold at London’s Les Senteurs for £59.50, with samples also available for purchase. In Germany, Fils de Dieu is available at First in Fragrance in the small size for €69. The site ships worldwide. In the Netherlands, I found it at ParfuMaria in the large 100 ml size for €119. In Hungary, I found it at Neroli Parfums, while in Italy, it’s available at ScentBar and in Spain, it’s sold at The Cosmeticoh. In Russia, I think it’s sold at iPerfume, but I can’t read Cyrillic to see if it’s available for online purchase. For all other locations or vendors from Canada to the Netherlands and Moscow, you can use the Store Locator listing on the company’s website. Samples: you can order a sample of Fils de Dieu from Surrender to Chance where prices start at $4.75 for a 1 ml vial.

Perfume Reviews – Dior Leather Oud & Granville (La Collection Privée)

Posted on July 3, 2013 by Kafkaesque

John Wayne riding through the arid desert canyons of New Mexico. Gary Cooper in a suit in the bracing, brisk air of Normandie. Two very different images of two very different men stemming from two very different fragrances in Dior‘s prestige La Collection Privée line of perfumes. (The line is sometimes called La Collection Couturier on places like Fragrantica and Surrender to Chance, but I will go with the name used by Dior itself on its website.) The fragrances are Leather Oud and Granville, and both were created by François Demarchy, the artistic director and nose for Parfums Dior, to reflect different aspects of the life of Christian Dior.

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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.