Mona di Orio Violette Fumée (Les Nombres d’Or)

Source: Fragrantica

Source: Fragrantica

Violette Fumée is a fresh, citric floral musk from Mona di Orio that was posthumously released in 2013 as part of her Nombres d’Or Collection. Madame di Orio was a very talented perfumer who died tragically at the age of 41 in 2011 from post-surgical complications, and Violette Fumée was her last creation. It was originally made as a personal, private gift to her business partner and the company’s co-founder, Jeroen Oude Sogtoen, based on his favorite notes. He decided to release the scent publicly in 2013 as an homage to her.

Source: Luckyscent

Source: Luckyscent

Violette Fumée is described as an “eau de parfum intense” on the Mona di Orio website, and also as an “Oriental Balsamic Floral.” The official description for the fragrance is interesting, as it discusses some elements that are not actually included in the accompanying note list:

With the creation of Violette Fumée, Mona composed the melody of my favorite passions, memories and materials.

With flirty florals like violet and rose fumed with pipe tobacco, the exquisite smoothness of cashmere and suede, and deep resinous undertones, this warmly smoldering scent evokes my sensorial love for luxury, and makes me feel, dream, travel and remember.

Revved at the start, crisp, fresh notes of herbal lavender and sparkling bergamot pair with inky oakmoss and get a twist as the scent unfolds into the elegance of vetiver and clary sage.

VioletsThe shy violet and iconic rose develop into a powdery and gourmand fume and then ramp up as spicy and savory notes of aphrodisiac saffron and smoky bois de gaiac communicate with the florals and begin to ignite.

The smoldering continues as resinous opoponax, myrrh, and musky cashmeran dive slowly into an intense velvety embrace.

Top notes: Mediterranean Lavender, Bergamot from Calabria, Oakmoss from the Balkans
Heart notes: Violet flowers and leaves from Egypt, Turkish Rose, Vetiver from Haiti, Clary Sage
Base notes: Opoponax and Myrrh from Somalia, Cashmeran.

As you can see from the description, saffron, tobacco, and guaiac wood are mentioned, but they do not appear on the actual list of notes. I detected small, minute traces of the last two notes, but not the saffron.

Source: naturesgardencandles.com

Source: naturesgardencandles.com

Violette Fumée opens on my skin as a very cool citrus, aromatic, and floral bouquet. There is crisp, chilled bergamot and pungent, herbal lavender, followed by dewy, metallic violets, its crunchy green leaves, and tendrils of light, sheer smoke. The violets smell slightly dewy and liquidy, but primarily carry the aroma of its crunchy, fuzzy, peppered leaves. There is a metallic sharpness that violets can sometimes demonstrate, but the note is also accentuated here by clean, synthetic, white musk. Touches of clary sage waft about, emitting a slight soapiness amidst the plant’s lavender and leathery undertones. Vetiver trails behind it, smelling both green and mineralized.

Oakmoss or tree moss.

Oakmoss or tree moss.

A few minutes later, another green note arrives on the scene: oakmoss. Like the vetiver, it initially has a mineralized aspect and doesn’t smell plushly green. Yet, it is not completely the grey, fusty, dusty, more pungent version, either. It lies somewhere in-between, supplemented by the bergamot to prevent the mosses from feeling too austere. As a whole, Violette Fumée is a visual palette of green, yellow and purple, with small streaks of black. It is initially a very cool fragrance in temperature as well, thanks largely to the chilliness of the crisp bergamot and the violet’s floral liquidity.

The black smoke that ties the aromatic, citric and floral elements together is very muted on my skin. It is a subtle touch which I wish were far stronger. Interestingly, the first time I wore Violette Fumée, the smokiness was much more apparent than on my two subsequent tests and I have to wonder if temperature was responsible as it was far cooler that first time around. Yet, even so, if I were to quantify the smoke on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the highest, it was a 3 in my first test and perhaps a 1.5 at best on subsequent occasions. In short, rather minor as a whole. Even more minor is the tobacco undertone that I detected in one test, but which never subsequently reappeared.

Violet Leaf via gaertner-und-florist.at

Violet Leaf via gaertner-und-florist.at

Violette Fumée slowly shifts, though by very fractional degrees. After 10 minutes, the fragrance feels softer and warmer. The bergamot’s zesty briskness turns sweeter, while the lavender and clary sage lose some of their sharp, herbal pungency. The violets grow stronger, their scent feeling more floral now than just the crunchy, piquant green leaves. Their dewiness and metallic edge fade away, though the clean musk remains. In fact, the latter’s synthetic sharpness is consistently intertwined with the bergamot note, resulting in a clean lemoniness that I think has a very harsh edge. It continues largely unabated until the very end of Violette Fumée’s development on my skin, and it is the thing that I like the least about the perfume.

Source: funny-pictures.picphotos.net

Source: funny-pictures.picphotos.net

Violette Fumée begins to turn abstract and wispy 45 minutes into its development. There are fluctuating levels of greenness, but the smokiness has faded away, along with the lavender and clary sage. The oakmoss feels almost nebulous, more like an abstract suggestion than anything clearly delineated. In fact, many of Violette Fumée’s notes lose their distinct shape, except for violet and the lemony musk, and the perfume feels very sheer.

What appears instead is a generalized, rather amorphous woodiness. Neither the guaiac nor the cashmeran are detectable in any individual way, but they blend in with the other notes to create a sort of nebulous, “woody musk” cocoon in which the violets are nestled. The cashmeran is noticeable mostly through the growing touch of creaminess in Violette Fumée’s base, almost like shea. By the 90-minute mark, the perfume is primarily a fresh, violet floral scent with strong bergamot musk and a touch of sweetness, all resting upon a thin base of creamy woods. A hint of vetiver lingers in the background, but there is no smokiness, very little sense of oakmoss, and only a suggestion of crisp greenness. The perfume now lies just an inch, at best, above my skin.

As a whole, Violette Fumée is a very airy, lightweight fragrance with soft, quiet sillage. Three smears amounting to 2 small spritzes from an actual bottle gave me 2 inches in projection. Applying a larger quantity did not significantly change that number. By the end of the second hour, the perfume is a skin scent on me and feels very thin.

Artist unknown. Source: pinterest via eBay.

Artist unknown. Source: pinterest via eBay.

At the start of the 3rd hour, Violette Fumée is a fresh, light, largely abstract floral with a vague suggestion of violets, followed by sharp, synthetic, lemony musk, all atop a base of generic woodiness with creaminess. As a whole, the perfume feels very clean and has something of a soapy nuance, thanks to the fabric softener musk. The impression of greenness has completely disappeared, but a slight powderiness has taken its place.

Violette Fumée remains largely unchanged for hours to come. The rose makes a quiet appearance at the end of the 6th hour, but it feels thin, pink, and very wan. The general bouquet is now primarily an abstract “floral” accord dominated by citric cleanness and a touch of vague woodiness. Even the creaminess in the base feels more muted and thin. In its final moments, Violette Fumée is a blur of something floral and clean. All in all, the perfume consistently lasted between 10 and 11 hours, largely because my skin holds onto clean musk synthetics like the devil.

Photo: My own.

Photo: My own.

Violette Fumée has generally received very good reviews, both from bloggers and on Fragrantica. The Non-Blonde writes, in part:

Violette Fumée is a gender-bending fragrance. Smoke and flowers, delicate tendrils and petals against musky creamy wood. Pipe tobacco that has an almost fruity core, a rich texture with a modern sensibility. I wanted to describe the dry-down as a purple cloak, but that’s a bit over the top, while Mona di Orio created Violette Fumée as a wearable and sophisticated personal fragrance for a man with an impeccable urbane taste.

The musky dry-down is of the slightly fruity kind, round, rich and satisfying. It still has those purple fumes surrounding it, and I feel an urge to lose myself in this mist. Despite all of that and the high concentration of the juice, Violette Fumée is not a heavy perfume. Applied moderately, it’s somewhere between a skin scent and a fashion accessory that you notice but doesn’t steal the show from your words.

"Green-purpel Fractal by Aqualoop31." Source: aqualoop31.deviantart.com

“Green-purpel Fractal by Aqualoop31.” Source: aqualoop31.deviantart.com

For The Scented Hound, Violette Fumée was also a lovely experience, one which reminded him of a “page from a 19th century botanical illustrative leather bound book.” He writes, in part:

Violette Fumee opens with the most beautiful lavender and bergamot combination; it’s herbal and refreshing in a creamy comforting way.  After a few minutes, the fragrance starts to warm and become deeper as a beefy oakmoss emerges from the bottom that envelopes and seems to fold over the lavender.  After about 10 minutes or so, the violet seems to make an appearance from the edge of the fragrance. I know this is going to sound strange, but it’s appearance is like prairie dogs popping their head out of the ground.  What I mean is that the violet doesn’t come out at once, but seems to pop in and out until eventually you feel like you are surrounded by violets tinged with rose.  Violette Fumee at this point still retains its creaminess but it becomes slightly brighter without becoming sheer.  What I love about this is that the herbal aspects of the fragrance keep this from becoming too floral and pretty which allow Violette Fumee to retain a substantive elegance.  After some time, the myrrh and opoponax emerge from below and a slight suede provides for a beautiful finish to this multi-faceted fragrance.

Source: parfumi.net

Source: parfumi.net

On Fragrantica, most people seem to adore Violette Fumée, with some comparing it to Chanel‘s No. 19 and Cristalle. For example, “kxnaiades” writes, in part:

Violette Fumee is like no other violet scent I’ve come across. I thought Lez Nez’s Unicorn Spell and CDG Stephen Jones were different and unique takes on violet. Mona di Orio’s Violet Fumee pretty much blazes past these and leaves them in her smoke, in terms of originality. This really has to be sat down with and taken time with to enjoy, it’s complex and does not reveal it’s entirety in the first half hour. I agree that it’s opening reminds me alot of Cristalle and the like. Cristalle opens cold and unreachable on me, just like Violette Fumee did. I know perfectly well what clary sage smells like now, the leathery note was clearly in the icy herbal opening. However, making friends does take time and I was patient. My faith was well-placed and with time, the chill air left and I was greeted with a fresh violet with its leaves still green and perky, resins and woods. I much much prefer the warmer drydown to the opening so thankfully this lasts very well on my skin with a single spritz. This is not an easy scent to like, but neither were Cristalle or No. 19 for me intially, but now is a different story from then. Violette Fumee is not for those looking for a sweet violet pastille scent. It’s a decidedly unisex take on violet with a bold entrance and uncompromising quality I’ve come to expect from Mona di Orio. This is no shrinking violet.

Source:  raymichemin.canalblog.com

Source: raymichemin.canalblog.com

For “Mick Trick,” Violet Fumée didn’t remind him of any Chanels but he also really liked the scent, though he does note that the “fumee” aspect was barely noticeable on his skin. He writes, in part:

Violette Fumee opens with a fresh sparkly triumvirate of green violet leaf, a splash of golden effervescent honeyed bergamot and subtle herbal lavender. Towards the heart the violet flower builds, an ultra-fine polished smooth powderiness is present but checked and never overwhelms, as opoponax adds resinous sweetness and a creaminess to the violet, forming the languorous sinuous and slightly shimmering heart of the fragrance. There’s also a very subtle tobacco note appearing at the beginning of the drydown, although I noticed this only on the second full wearing. At late drydown the violet flower recedes and watery violet leaf endures with a soft suede musky aspect (must be the cashmeran).

As others have noted the ‘fumee’ aspect is noticeable by its absence. Although I experienced a couple of phantom smokey tendrils that are gone as soon as I noticed then. It lays close and after around 4 hours is really a skin scent, however I experienced +12 hours longevity, on fabric it’s also +next day material. Not bad at all. There is a sweetness to VF, but it always retains a freshness and never threatens to become cloying. I’ve worn it now three times in the last four days, it’s got a subtle luxurious allure that keeps me coming back for more, I like it very much.

There are only two negative reviews for the fragrance:

  • Awful, smoky and cheap, totally synth. [¶] Crazy price, sillage bad, longevity bad. [¶] Thumbs down.
  • The drydown smells on me like Earl Grey tea leaves.

Violet Fumée is not cheap at $330 or €230, though the bottle is a 100 ml. I don’t think it feels like an eau de parfum at all, something that one Fragrantica commentator also mentioned. For me, the perfume is very over-priced for what it is, and I don’t find its quality to be impressive. The bergamot musk dominated much of the drydown on my skin, which is perhaps why that last quote from Fragrantica mentions “Earl Grey tea leaves,” but it is the sharpness of the synthetic that I found to be particularly objectionable. For $330, I’d like a lot more than citric fabric softener emanating from my skin — and a sheer, wispy, thin, largely abstract floral-woody-musk isn’t it.

In all fairness, I despise clean, white musk — in anything — and other people don’t have the same issues with the note. They also are not so sensitive to synthetics which my skin amplifies quite a bit. Plus, as I’ve tried to make clear, I’m in a distinct, tiny minority regarding this scent. Everyone else seems to be a fan. So, if you love violet fragrances and clean, fresh florals as a whole, then you may want to give Violette Fumée a sniff.

DETAILS:
Cost, Sizes, Sets & Availability: Violette Fumée is an eau de parfum, and is available in two different options or sizes. The full bottle is 3.4 oz/100 ml and costs $330, €230, or £195. It is available world-wide on the Mona di Orio website which also sells a 5 ml roll-on bottle for €20. However, Violette Fumée is not one of the fragrances included in the usual MdO Travel set of 3 minis or in the Nombres d’Or Discovery Set of 8 x 5ml bottles. In the U.S.: Violette Fumée is sold at Luckyscent, Parfum1, and MinNewYork. All three places sell samples. Outside the U.S: In the UK, you can find Violette Fumée at Les Senteurs which sells it for £195, and also offers a sample vial for sale. Mona di Orio’s full line can also be found at Roullier White. In Europe, Violette Fumée is sold at Premiere Avenue, Jovoy, and First in Fragrance. The Mona di Orio line is also sold at Essenza Nobile. In Paris, Mona di Orio is sold at Marie Antoinette, and you can email Antonio to purchase. In the Netherlands, the line is offered at ParfuMaria and Skin Cosmetics. In the United Arab Emirates, Mona di Orio is sold at Harvey Nichols. In Australia, Melbourne’s Peony Haute Parfumerie carries the brand. For all other countries from Russia to Spain, you can use the Store Locator guide on the company website. Samples: Samples are available at Surrender to Chance starting at $4.50 for a 1/2 ml vial, at Luckyscent, Parfum1, and many of the European retailers linked to above.

SHL 777 Rose de Petra: Desert Rose

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

The ancient temple of Petra soars high in the sky before a vast desert whose sands are stained pink and red with the blood of roses. The flowers are dusted with fiery spices, then nestled in a cocoon of green mosses and dry woods. A soft ambered hue hangs above them matching the gold-pink-red of the caves near the temple, while down below trickles a dark stream of smoky styrax, balsamic resins, and a touch of leather. A woman walks quietly in the shade, veiled in rose-red, her dark eyes watching the incoming shadows as the dusty desert wind brings sand, dryness and whispers of wood from distant lands. She wears Rose de Petra by Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

Every time I wear Rose de Petra, its desert inspiration and its layered, spicy dryness always make me think of Sting’s famous song, “Desert Rose“:

I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of her love

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

Sweet desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this

Sweet desert rose
This memory of Eden haunts us all
This desert flower, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of the fall.

Source: cn.forwallpaper.com

Source: cn.forwallpaper.com

Unlike poor Sting, Rose de Petra doesn’t make me feel tortured or pained, but it does indeed call to mind the desert rose that hides its “gardens in the sand” behind veils, each layer like a secret promise of more to come, before revealing its soft, sweet heart. I’m not particularly fond of rose fragrances, but I thought this one was very refined, wonderfully smooth, and really lovely. Yes, even “intoxicating” at times, just as the song says, though not because of the actual rose note, in my opinion.

Rose de Petra is a fragrance from the Paris niche house, Stéphane Humbert Lucas 777 (hereinafter just referred to as “SHL” or “777“). Monsieur Lucas was the in-house perfumer for SoOud and Nez à Nez, but launched his new house in 2013. There were originally seven fragrances, one of which was Rose de Petra, followed by several new releases this year. They are all officially listed as being eau de parfums, but are really extrait or pure parfums with at least 24% concentration.

Rose de Petra. Source: SHL 777 Facebook page.

Rose de Petra. Source: SHL 777 Facebook page.

Until last month, all the 777 creations were exclusive to Europe, Russia, and Middle Eastern, but they are now carried in America at Luckyscent and Osswald NY. Monsieur Lucas kindly and graciously sent me samples of his entire 11-piece collection, from the jaw-dropping, spectacular, monster amber, O Hira (which blew my socks off), the smoky new Oud 777, the gourmand Une Nuit à Doha, and the superb Black Gemstone which was love at first sniff for me. This is the final review of the series.

Al Khazneh Temple at Petra. Source: Wikimedia

Al Khazneh Temple at Petra. Source: Wikimedia

Monsieur Lucas has a genuine love of the Middle East, from its majestic ancient buildings to its philosophical mysticism, and he uses both as the inspiration for all the fragrances in his new line. For Rose de Petra, he was moved partially by the magnificent, famed temple of Petra in Jordan, but also by “rose du sable” or the “desert rose.” As Wikipedia explains, those are colloquial names given to a desert crystal made partially from sand in a formation which resembles a rose. Sands and rose… that should give you a small idea of Rose de Petra’s nature, but its core essence is something very different in my opinion.

The fragrance is essentially a chypre-oriental hybrid, though you’d never guess that by looking at its official notes of its notes or the press release description provided to me:

Source: galleryhip.com

Source: galleryhip.com

Philter of Bulgarian rose,
red epithem, sensual and pungent.
Generous, silky and mystical rose.

Notes:
Rose Oxide – Pomegranate – Litchi
Bulgarian rose
Pepper – Cardamom – Cumin seeds.

Regular readers of my 777 reviews will know by now that the official list given to places like Fragrantica or to distributors is merely a highly abbreviated, thumbnail synopsis. The lists are never complete, and leave off what I’d estimate to be 40% to 70% of the elements, depending on the fragrance. (In the case of O Hira, the one note “list” omits 99% of the actual notes.) Monsieur Lucas has told me candidly that he wants people to be moved emotionally by what they smell, not to be fixated on the details. He believes that perfume should be about a journey, almost a transcendental experience or escape. The minutiae detracts from what he wants you to feel.

Saffron. Source: FoodandFarsi.com (Website link embedded within.)

Saffron. Source: FoodandFarsi.com (Website link embedded within.)

Well, I’m far too OCD about details for such abstract esotericism. I like to know what’s in a scent, especially when I detect a lot more than what is listed. In the case of Rose de Petra, I smelled saffron, patchouli, styrax, a balsamic resin, cedar, vanilla, tonka, a tobacco-like leatheriness, a leafy greenness, and an oud note. So I wrote to Monsieur Lucas, and it turns out that many of those things are indeed in Rose de Petra, though not the oud which he was happy to hear about and which he said was a sort of “mirage” that he’d intentionally sought to create.

The list of notes in Rose de Petra is actually closer to the following, though Monsieur Lucas hinted that even this is not complete:

Essence of Bulgarian rose, rose oxide, litchi, pomegranate, pepper, cardamom, cumin, saffron, cinnamon, patchouli, leather, Peru balsam, styrax, vetiver, cedar, oakmoss, tree moss, labdanum [amber], coumarin, and vanilla.

One of the visual inspirations for Rose de Petra, and its rose note. Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

One of the visual inspirations for Rose de Petra, and its fruity Bulgarian rose note. Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

In his correspondence with me, Monsieur Lucas said he sought to make a fragrance that highlighted contrasts. The fruitiness and gaiety of the Bulgarian rose; the heat, spices, stoniness. and mystery of the desert; the sandy beauty of the “Rose du Sables” or desert rose; and the striated stone of Petra. He wanted a composition that was “chaud et froid,” hot and cold, with small touches of various mosses and “green” fresh cedar counterbalanced by the fiery spices, the rich Peru balsam, dark leather, and smoky styrax. And, to demonstrate the contrasts, he shared the photos which inspired him and which represent the visuals of Rose de Petra in his mind:

"Rose du Sables," Desert Rose rock crystal. Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas

“Rose du Sables,” Desert Rose rock crystal. Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas

Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas

Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas

Rose de Petra opens on my skin with pink roses that are dewy and wet, simultaneously pale but rich. For all their delicacy, they are heavily sprinkled with spices from nutty cardamon and dusty cumin to the fieriness of black pepper and red-gold saffron. Sweet cinnamon follows in their trail, then the fruity tartness of pomegranates. The liquidy dewiness is a subtle, muted touch which stems from the lychee (or litchi), and it is quickly overwhelmed by a heaping dose of very fruited, purple patchouli which turns the rose from pink to blood-red.

Source: banoosh.com

Source: banoosh.com

There are other elements noticeable as well. As the spices grow stronger on top, the first hints of the dark base appear, almost like a shadow falling over the background. There is a subtle, tiny streak of smoky leatheriness from the styrax, while the Peru balsam adds both an undercurrent of sticky darkness and a full-bodied richness to the scent. Lurking at the edges is a tangy sweet-sourness, accompanied by a leafy greenness. It goes beyond mere pomegranates, and I initially wondered if a tiny dose of cassis had been used as well. At a much higher dosage and quantity, those notes reveal themselves to be oakmoss.

I’ve tested Rose de Petra a number of times and, while the overall parameters of the opening are largely the same, the perfume really shines if you apply more of the scent. My sample atomizer had a very wonky, temperamental spray that gave out little dribs and drabs, so the first time I applied roughly the equivalent of one decent spritz from a bottle. On subsequent occasions, I doubled and even tripled the dose and… good heavens, the oakmoss really shines forth. In some fragrances, moss notes can smell pungently mineralized, grey, fusty, dusty, or akin to dry tree bark. Here, however, it is lushly green, rich, and smooth.

Source: 1ms.net

Source: 1ms.net

These richer elements transform the rose in less than five minutes. From the delicate, pale, dewy, little thing of its opening, the rose now feels drenched in a darkly fruited liqueur, as if a rich cordial had been poured all over the velvety petals. Fieriness lies just underneath from the spices, while a subtle, tart tanginess from the pomegranates weaves in and out of the top notes like tiny, little fireflies. The whole thing likes on a base that is plushly green from the oakmoss, but overcast with black shadows from leathery, smoky, balsamic elements.

Photo: David Hare. Source: open.az

Photo: David Hare. Source: open.az

I know some of you are cumin-phobes who shudder at the mere mention of the word, so let me reassure you here and now: you needn’t worry. Nothing in Rose de Petra smells fetid, sweaty, food-like, or reminiscent of stale, unwashed body odor. Rather, each and every time I’ve tested the fragrance, the note is more like an abstract, spicy dustiness. To be honest, the cumin is a really subtle, minor note in the opening, hardly detectable on my skin next to the saffron, liqueured fruits, oakmoss and rose. And, as time passes, it grows even more abstract, like a mere suggestion of dustiness left at the bottom of an ancient spice drawer.

Photo: Joel Ryan/Invision/AP for Vivienne Westwood, London Fashion week, 2013. Source: Salon.com

Photo: Joel Ryan/Invision/AP for Vivienne Westwood, London Fashion week, 2013. Source: Salon.com

At the end of the day, the rose and only the rose is the star of this soliflore. Rose de Petra feels like one, big long aria by a rose wearing different costumes, shedding the chypre-like mosses and patchouli veils of its opening to show its more purely oriental skin later on.

It is like Salome and the Dance of the Seven Veils, but it also reminds me of something else: Frederic Malle‘s famous Portrait of a Lady (“POAL”). I wasn’t keen on the latter which was a gooey, rose-patchouli explosion on my skin with virtually no oakmoss to imbue it with any real chypre character. Rose de Petra’s opening feels like a spicier, substantially less syrupy, much deeper and richer version of the Malle scent. There is a greenness and subtle tanginess to the 777 fragrance that POAL lacks, and more dusty spiciness than the Malle ever demonstrated on my skin. Rose de Petra also feels much more concentrated, at least at first.

Source: pinterest

Source: pinterest

20 minutes into its development, Rose de Petra grows even spicier, and begins to resemble another famous fragrance. As fieriness and dustiness take over the blood-red, velvety flowers, Rose de Petra is slowly turning into what most people seem to experience with Amouage‘s Lyric Woman. On my skin, the latter was largely all about the ylang-ylang with very little spiced rose, so perhaps I should compare Rose de Petra to Lyric’s sister from the same nose: Epic Woman. The latter was definitely all about spiced, dusty, woody roses on me, but the very jammy richness of the flowers probably makes Rose de Petra closer to the conventional interpretation of Lyric Woman. The bottom line, though, is that the 777 creation starts off on my skin with similarities to Malle’s Portrait of a Lady, then turns into a combination of the Malle with one or both of Amouage’s famous rose fragrances. To be sure, there are differences, but the kinship is there.

Cedar. Photo: Brett Stewart, with permission. Source: http://instagram.com/bstewart23

Cedar. Photo: Brett Stewart, with permission. Source: http://instagram.com/bstewart23

Thoughts of Epic Woman come to mind again at the end of the first hour when Rose de Petra loses some of its jammy sweetness and chypre accords. The perfume turns woodier, drier and slightly balsamic as the base elements begin to rise to the surface. The oakmoss retreats, the subtle touch of tartness from the pomegranate dies away, and the individual spices turn more amorphous and indistinct. It’s no longer easy to pull out the cinnamon, black pepper, saffron, or even the dustiness of the cumin; everything has melted into each other, as the notes overlap seamlessly. Even the very concentrated denseness of Rose de Petra softens, with the sillage changing to match.

Rose de Petra starts off as quite a strong, robust scent with decent projection. Using the equivalent of 2 tiny sprays from an actual bottle gave me 2 inches of sillage, while 3 small sprays gave me 3 inches. However, those numbers soon drop, and Rose de Petra’s concentrated, rich opening bouquet turns quite airy and soft roughly 75 minutes into its development. At that time, the sillage drops to an inch above the skin, where it remains for the next few hours. So, when taken as an average whole, I would say that Rose de Petra is generally an airy, light scent with soft, almost intimate projection.

Source: YouTube video of Desert Rose, posted in full at the end.

Source: YouTube video of Desert Rose, posted in full at the end.

At the start of the 3rd hour, Rose de Petra shifts again. The dry, woody tonalities grow stronger, and there was a definite suggestion of oud on my skin when I used a lesser quantity. At a higher dose, that was not as evident, though the cedar most definitely was. In both cases, however, and regardless of quantity, the perfume takes on a darker quality as the woods and smoky styrax rise up from the base to envelop the rose. Even the leather grows faintly more noticeable, though it is still mostly a subtle suggestion on my skin.

Photo: my own.

Photo: my own.

Rose de Petra now demonstrates a chiaroscuro effect, a play of light and dark, as the darker shadows are contrasted by a glow of warmth from the labdanum amber and by a definite streak of creaminess with a slightly powdery touch that speaks to the tonka and vanilla. (The note list mentions coumarin, but, for me, that often has a hay-like characteristic that I don’t detect here. Plus, coumarin comes from tonka beans, and that’s what I detect, so that’s what I’m going to call it.) Rose de Petra continues to be spicy, but it remains largely abstract, though once in a while a more distinct whisper of cardamon and pepper does pop up.

Rose de Petra has lost a lot of its thick richness, both in terms of the jammy, velvety rose and the perfume’s body itself. It feels much airier and softer than it did in the first hour. As a whole, Rose de Petra is now a spicy, dry, woody rose, lightly flecked by a dark resins, a suggestion of smokiness, a golden warmth, and creamy vanilla. There is a whisper of something almost like oud, but only a minute, lingering patina of jammy, patchouli sweetness or oakmoss.

Rose de Petra turns wholly abstract by the middle of the 4th hour. It is the merest wisp of a soft, slightly spicy rose with woodiness and tonka vanilla. Though there is a touch of sweetness, the perfume’s dryness and the occasionally sandy, powdery feel of the vanilla call to mind the desert sand of its inspiration. Sting’s “Desert Rose,” indeed. It’s very pretty, but it’s also a complete skin scent on me by this point.

The perfume continues to subtly shift, as the tonka vanilla grows stronger with every passing moment and vies with the woody tonalities for second place. By the start of the 6th hour, the lightly spiced rose is infused with as much creamy tonka as woodiness, all in a gauzy wisp that coats the skin like translucent pink silk. On occasion, a lingering hint of pomegranate floats by to startle me, almost like red dandelion fluff in the wind. Once in a blue moon, a hint of something darker follows it, but, for the most part, Rose de Petra has shed its dark shadows, opting for vanilla instead of balsamic, leathery, smoky elements. In its final moments, the perfume is a blur of sweet, dusty, pale pink roses with vanilla and the faintest suggestion of something woody.

Photo: my own.

Photo: my own.

All in all, Rose de Petra lasts between 8.5 and 9.5 hours on my skin, depending on how much I apply. It has the shortest longevity of any of the SHL line on my skin, and it also feels like the softest of the 11 fragrances. Like almost all of Monsieur Lucas’ creations (minus the 2022 Generation Homme which I despise with a passion), Rose de Petra feels very smooth, expensive, and refined. It’s hardly the most revolutionary, unusual, edgy scent around, but then few rose soliflores are.

In fact, I have to say, I liked it a lot more than I thought. Rose perfumes aren’t generally my thing, especially when they’re gooey and overly sweet, but I find very mossy or spicy versions much more appealing. Rose de Petra is what I had hoped both Portrait of a Lady and Lyric Woman would be on my skin, combined into one scent. I really liked the fiery bite that briefly resembled chili peppers at one point when I applied a greater dosage, along with something verging almost on a tobacco undertone from the mix of dark resins, labdanum and leather. The combination of dry dustiness, jammy sweetness, and fiery spices was particularly nice when contrasted with the oakmoss.

Even the fruitchouli was well calibrated so that it didn’t take on Portrait of a Lady’s purple, syrupy excesses. Actually, I think Rose de Petra’s heightened degrees of spiciness and background woodiness that really helped in that regard, along with the subtle touch of pomegranate. All three things ensure that the patchouli remains as a sort of tart, tangy liqueured cordial, instead of revoltingly sweet molasses. The pomegranate may not have been hugely noticeable in its own right, and I would have preferred much more of it, but I think it works subtly and indirectly to help keep the balance.

Photo: my own.

Photo: my own.

In the subsequent stages, the interplay between the creamy vanilla, the leathery base, and the warm ambered glow is truly lovely, especially when counterbalanced by the woody dryness. I can’t rave enough about the strongly balsamic, darker elements. They seep into everything, transforming the rose from the chypre of its opening into something purely Oriental, but none of it is sharp. All of it feels smooth and velvety soft, even the leathery, slightly smoky styrax. By the time the final stage rolled around, Rose de Petra frequently reminded me creamy, golden petals, thanks to the lovely vanilla tonka.

My only quibble with the fragrance is that it’s too soft and airy, with sillage that is a little too intimate, but all that is a matter of personal preference. It’s also not a hugely distinctive scent, except in terms of its quality. There, I think it stands neck and neck with offerings from Amouage or Frederic Malle. As a whole, I think Rose de Petra is a refined, approachable, uncomplicated but luxurious scent that could be worn on a variety of different occasions, including the office after the first hour has passed. I also think it is unisex, thanks to the darker, drier, and woody elements.

Rose de Petra is one of the more affordable creations in the 777 line. It retails for €148 or $220 for a 50 ml bottle of pure parfum. I think it’s definitely set at the right price. As a side note, Rose de Petra costs less at $220 than a comparable 50 ml bottle of Lyric Woman which retails for $280, and it is fractionally cheaper than Malle’s $230 Portrait of a Lady. If you love either of those fragrances, you should give Rose de Petra a sniff.

In the meantime, I leave you with an unofficial video for Sting’s Desert Rose. Its desert imagery, stunningly vivid colours, and romantic mood feel like a perfect fit for Rose de Petra in my mind.

Disclosure: Perfume sample courtesy of Stéphane Humbert Lucas. That did not influence this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:
Cost & Availability: Rose de Petra is an Extrait or pure parfum that is only available in a 50 ml bottle and costs $220 or €148. In the U.S.: Osswald NY carries the 777 line, and sells Rose de Petra for $220. Luckyscent also has 777 fragrances, and sells Rose de Petra for the same amount. Outside the U.S.: Currently, the Stéphane Humbert Lucas’ website is under construction, and doesn’t have an e-store. The best online resource is First in Fragrance which has all the SHL 777 line, including Rose de Petra. In London, you can find the collection at Harrod’s Black Room, while in Paris, they are exclusive to Printemps under the name 777. Zurich’s Osswald also carries the line, but I don’t think they have an e-store any more. The Swiss perfumery, Theodora, also has SHL 777, but no e-store. In the Middle East, Souq.com used to have 6 of the earlier fragrances, but I no longer see them on the website. In the UAE, the SHL 777 line is available at Harvey Nichols and at Bloomingdales in the Dubai Mall. In Russia, SHL 777 is sold at Lenoma. Ukraine’s Sana Hunt Luxury store also carries the line, but they don’t have an e-store. Samples: In Europe, you can order a sample from First in Fragrance. In the U.S., none of the decanting sites currently carry this fragrance, but Luckyscent and Osswald NYC sell samples. Osswald’s Sample Program has a 3-order minimum but free domestic shipping. Pricing depends on the cost of the particular perfume in question. They range from $3 for a 2 ml vial, up to $9 for fragrances that cost over $300. Given Rose de Petra’s $220 price, a 2 ml spray sample should cost $6. It’s a better deal than Luckyscent’s $5 price for a small 0.7 dab vial. You can call Osswald at (212) 625-3111 to order, or use their website.

China & Japan’s Fragrance Markets & Culture

Source: bellasugar.com

Source: bellasugar.com

I wanted to take a look at the Asian fragrance markets, and to specifically highlight the cultural attitudes towards perfumery in China and Japan. The former is undergoing some small changes in perception, at least amongst Chinese men, but scent still isn’t particularly important as a general matter across the population as a whole. As you will see, even attempts to sell an Axe-like body spray took a lot of effort (and a rather controversial spokesman) to succeed.

I will also look at Japan’s cultural mindset regarding perfumery. It seems to be a rather conflicted one, without any genuine love for fragrance, which is perhaps why they have traditionally had a very weak market. What surprised me there was something completely different: the significance of scented fabric softeners. I should warn you that this post is going to be a little long, so feel free to skip to whatever part interests you the most.

[UPDATE: If you’re interested solely in China, I’ve written an article focused purely on its fragrance culture, its fragrance history, & also the role of oud (沉香) in both the past and present.]

As always, I would like to stress that I have no background in finance, economics, marketing, sociology, or anything remotely mathematical in nature. I do not claim to be an expert on any of those things, there are limits to how comprehensive I can be in a single article, and I write about what interests me, as well as what I have access to. If you are more interested in another country, you can always check my prior pieces on the U.S. and international fragrance markets, the late 2013 U.S. industry figures and popular fragrances, the global fragrance market, the Brazilian fragrance market, and the celebrity perfume industry. Please note that almost all of the articles focus on the commercial, mainstream end of things, not the niche sector.

THE OVERALL ASIAN FRAGRANCE MARKET:

Premium Beauty News has a May 26, 2014 article that briefly summarizes the state of various Asian markets, including South Korea, Indonesia, Vietnam, and India. It relies on a report by the highly respected research analysts, Mintel, but it gives only cursory conclusions. Frankly, it’s not easy for me to obtain updated, annual figures for countries like China and Japan beyond what I’ve discussed from Euromonitor reports in my earlier 2013 piece, so I found it quite fortuitous to stumble across even these nutshell assessments.

Source: outsidethebeltway.com

Source: outsidethebeltway.com

The article states:

With the exception of Japan, where fragrance sales have declined over the last five years, the Asian fragrance marketplace is also growing at fast pace, even if it remains small relative to the Western markets. China recorded a CAGR [Compound Annual Growth Rate] of 9% over the last five years, India 25%, Indonesia 44%,Vietnam 15% and South Korea 12%.

As the likelihood for a more tailored approach towards individual cultures increases, domestic and international players will need to tailor products accordingly:

    • India has a strong cultural connection with fragrance as scented deodorants and body sprays are the most important products in the country.
    • In contrast, China is only slowly opening up to Western fragrance standards and the concept of perfume is relatively new to its consumers, who choose their fragrance to refer to Western lifestyles and special occasions.
    • South Korea is another example where the beauty industry is thriving but fragrance is not yet part of people’s daily grooming routine. However, fragrances are turning up in growing numbers in department and speciality stores.

In countries like India, China and Vietnam where the middle class is growing rapidly and with it the popularity of aspirational Western lifestyles, it is now a question of when and how pushing fragrance as part of daily life will begin as it is key to growing the fragrance market. [All emphasis is by PBN in the original.]

As for the other countries discussed, I was fascinated to see Indonesia leading the group with 44% growth. With regard to India, my global report piece shows that the deodorants and body sprays are indeed a massive part of their market thus far, thanks to the driving role of teenage boys. (One shudders to think of how much Axe they must purchase!) In terms of actual and proper fragrances, Indian men far outnumber women in purchases.

CHINA:

A) THE OVERALL NUMBERS & SALES FIGURES:

Shanghai skyline. Source: khongthe.com/wallpapers

Shanghai skyline. Source: khongthe.com/wallpapers

I’ve talked about the Chinese market in the past, relying on an April 2013 Euromonitor report on the Chinese fragrance market. To recapitulate some of the more pertinent quotes:

  • Given the value sales of RMB4.6 billion in 2012, fragrances in China remained a relatively small category; around one 18th of skin care in value terms. […] As a whole, product penetration is quite low in even top-tier markets, and fragrances are just seen as unnecessary products by most consumers. No remarkable changes have been seen in consumers’ acceptance of fragrances – the Chinese account for 20% of the world’s population, but only contribute 1% to value sales of fragrances. The average Chinese person is not used to wearing perfume, unless they are extremely particular about their image, usually those who work for international companies or as high-ranking executives. [Emphasis added by me.]
Source: Fragrantica.

Source: Fragrantica.

  • Despite the large number of brands present in the market, fragrances in China continued to be dominated by international companies in 2012 in value terms. Chanel accounted for a 12% share of value sales in fragrances, followed by Parfums Christian Dior with 8%. Calvin Klein CosmeticsHugo Boss and L’Oréal China were in third, fourth and fifth place respectively. These world-famous companies have established high brand awareness amongst Chinese consumers, as they have in international markets, mainly thanks to continued investment in advertisements on television and in fashion magazines.  [Emphasis in bolding added by me.]
Source: .cosmeticsdesign-asia.com

Source: .cosmeticsdesign-asia.com

So, bottom line, most Chinese consumers do not see perfume as a necessary product, and the main reason why seems to be that the country does not have a history with perfumery. How could it, given its political, ideological past? As a 2012 Mintel report on the country’s perfume practices explains:

“Prior to the 1980s, it was very uncommon to see any ownership or usage of fragrance in China and it was only in the early 1990s that fragrance started to become commonly owned and used. Over the last 20 years, the Chinese fragrance market has risen from practically nothing to a sizeable, though still underdeveloped category. US and UK, per capita spending on fragrance is estimated at US$10 and US$33 respectively, while per capita spend in China is only around US$0.5 (Mintel, 2011). Applying fragrance is still not considered to be a necessity for Chinese consumers, however it is slowly being integrated into the grooming routine.”  [Emphasis added by me.]

B) CHANGES IN PERCEPTION:

I discovered something very interesting from the same company, outlining a slow shift in perceptions by men. The report is not new, but dates back to 2011 and 2012, and talks about the growth in the men’s market in China, their changing attitudes that fragrance is not only for women, and the slow growth of what they label as “prestige” perfumes. (Generally, those fragrances seem to fall in the $60-$80 range, roughly speaking, when discussed in America where the term “premium” is also used.)

Hayami Mokomichi, star of several popular Japanese TV dramas. Source: asiapacificarts.usc.edu/

Hayami Mokomichi, star of several popular Japanese TV dramas. Source: asiapacificarts.usc.edu/

This particular 2012 Mintel report quotes the company’s China Research Analyst, Lui Meng Chow, on men’s changing perceptions regarding perfumery, the psychological reasons why, the role of television, and the overall result of the shift:

“The word perfume often has feminine overtones among male consumers, however, thanks to the popularity of Japanese and Korean TV dramas, fashions from these countries are shaping Chinese men’s perceptions of personal grooming. As a result of this trend, younger male consumers are shifting away from their conservative traditions and have been impressed with concepts which promote individual expression. This has caused manufacturers to launch male-specific brands, including toiletries, despite the fact that they were previously associated with being a woman’s product.”

“Now this trend is extending into prestige and luxury brands and products, from aftershave to eau de toilette. Most Chinese males tend to enter the beauty-care category in the middle to high-end product category, buying into those products with credible quality, thus they are willing to spend more in their first experience of grooming products.” Lui Meng Chow continues.

Overall, the fragrance market in China grew 32% in value from RMB 3.2 billion in 2008 to RMB 4.2 billion in 2011. According to Mintel’s research, the majority of urban consumers in China use fragrance to become more attractive and well-groomed (60%) or stylish (53%). And as retail channels have developed rapidly, the outlets where Chinese consumers can purchase fragrance have diversified. Today, nearly half (46%) of Chinese consumers say they purchase perfumes and fragrances from a specialist perfume shop, 37% buy at a department store and a similar number (35%) say they purchase online. Meanwhile, 31% claim to purchase fragrances from supermarkets and hypermarkets.

Edison Chen for Lynx in China. Source: Ad Age.

Edison Chen for Lynx in China. Source: Ad Age.

People say a lot of things in response to surveys. It’s not always the truth but, rather, how they like to present themselves. I bring this up because I find some of those survey response numbers — (46%) of Chinese consumers say they purchase perfumes and fragrances from a specialist perfume shop — a little astonishing in light of a 2012 Ad Age article. It talks about Unilever’s problem in introducing their Chinese version of Axe (called Lynx over there) into the market, and how they had to resort to a star with a rather scandalous past (by Chinese standards) in order to gain men’s attention.

The article is a really fascinating insight into both the Chinese culture regarding scented products and how far some companies have to go in order to make inroads in the market. It reads, in part, as follows:

Unilever had a conundrum when it came to the Chinese launch of Lynx, the body spray known in the U.S. as Axe. The problem wasn’t persuading Chinese guys to select Lynx over a competitor but to choose it at all in a country where men have never been expected to smell good.

Source: dhgate.com

Source: dhgate.com

“Guys are open to grooming, but fragrance is not part of the repertoire at the moment,” said Jon McCarthy, regional brand director for Axe/Lynx in Asia. “The marketing challenge for us is to integrate our product into guys’ routines, to [help them] see the benefits of a confidence boost and to feel more attractive.”

The brand achieved that and more, becoming No. 1 in the market. And it did so using a celebrity pitchman with a past so scandalous that his Lynx ads can’t even be seen on Chinese on TV.

C) PERFUME AS SOCIAL IDENTITY:

Source: labbrand.com

Source: labbrand.com

In the West, many perfume users see fragrance as self-expression or as signature that is part of their identity. That is obviously not yet the case in China, where it wasn’t easy to sell even a scented body spray like Axe. When perfume is purchased, it is more about belonging to an elite luxury group, with all the social cache that accompanies such membership. Mintel’s China expert breaks down the figures:

Mintel’s research also reveals that 80% of urban Chinese consumers claim to wear a fragrance that reflects their personal style, 78% claim that wearing a fragrance helps them stand out more at social or formal gatherings and 45% always look for the latest release of perfumes so as to stay ahead of the trend. However, its not all about personal image. Some 39% of fragrance users still use fragrance with the more functional purpose of eliminating body odour, and 42% of respondents own or wear fragrance because they received it as a gift.

Chinese perfume ad. Not used in the Mintel article. Source: sucaitianxia.com

Chinese perfume ad. Not used in the Mintel article. Source: sucaitianxia.com

“Fragrance is regarded as a luxury item, especially if it is internationally branded. Acquiring it means buying into an identity, and also expresses an emotional sense of belonging to a luxury or stylish group identity which serves as a status symbol. Following the implementation of the 1980s Open Door policy, western culture and style have significantly influenced consumer developmental trends in China, with foreign investment also having a major impact on the Chinese economy and income in these regions. All these have resulted in demand for and spending in luxury products including fragrances, toiletries and make-up amongst the affluent and emerging middle income Chinese.” Lui Meng concludes.

80% of respondents may have claimed that they wore fragrance as a reflection of their personal style, but the remainder of Lui Meng’s analysis and what I’ve noted from other sources would seem to present a very different picture. In any event, the overall bottom line seems to be that perfume is either aspirational, or a symbol of having socially arrived — not an actual habit borne out of love, longstanding habit, or any real appreciation for how a particular fragrance may smell.

JAPAN:

A) THE OVERALL NUMBERS & SALES FIGURES:

Gwen Stefani fragrance ad for the “Harajuku Lovers” Collection. Source: tlzd.net

Gwen Stefani fragrance ad for the “Harajuku Lovers” Collection. Source: tlzd.net

As the Premium Beauty News article mentioned at the start of this piece makes clear, the Japanese market is very weak. It stands out amongst the other Asian nations in having actually declining sales over the last 5 years. One reason why is the recession, while another is the continued impact of the natural disaster which hit Japan.

Still, Japan has never had a particularly robust fragrance industry. A Companies and Markets report from late 2013 has some specific numbers:

  • Although Japan has the second biggest market for beauty and personal care, and carries one of the most developed and mature cosmetics markets around the world, Japan’s fragrances is still in its infancy, totalling mere a ¥42 billion in 2012.
  • The Japanese fragrances sector is fragmented. […] ‘Various distributors’ accounted for 24% value share in 2012, with the leading distributor, Bluebell Japan, leading the field. [¶] Bluebell Japan has been operating in Japanese fragrances since 1954 and the company distributes 25 international fragrance brands, including Bvlgari and Gucci[Emphasis added by me.]
  • The Japanese fragrance industry has been forecast to increase at an average annual rate of 1.4% during 2007-2017, picking up pace after two years of decline in 2009 and 2011 due to economic recession and natural disaster.

B) FRAGRANCE AS A WESTERN SYMBOL & JAPAN’S CULTURAL SPLIT:

Samurai Woman "One Love" Eau de Toilette Perfume. Source: global.rakuten.com

Samurai Woman “One Love” Eau de Toilette Perfume. Source: global.rakuten.com

What I find to be interesting about the Japanese market is the underlying sociological and psychological approaches to perfumery. Now, I am no psychologist, I have not looked for any expert analysis on the Japanese psyche when it comes to perfumery, and I also have not sought any sociological reports on the same. Frankly, if such reports exist, they would be in a language I do not read or know. A few, admittedly old, Japanese newspaper reports in English have stated that there isn’t a lot of detailed information on the country’s specific usage of perfumery.

However, there is an absolutely fascinating, detailed discussion of the Japanese habits, mentality and mindset regarding fragrances by The Black Narcissus, a perfume blogger who has lived in Japan for over 17 years. He makes it clear that he is neither an anthropologist nor an expert, and that he can offer only his perceptions, the individual opinion of one man. While it may not be a scientific overview of a whole nation’s culture, it’s a lot more than we have from other sources, and I thought it was brilliant.

The Black Narcissus’ post is entitled Japan, Perfume. Though it is long, I urge you to read it in full because it is truly fascinating. It talks about his personal experiences in trying to buy perfume in places that sell expensive fragrances in Tokyo, and the detached sterility of the whole process. He explains why he thinks there is such a plethora of vintage treasures to be found in antique shops. More importantly, he talks about how perfume is either an aspirational product or something that is bought because it confers membership in an elite socio-economic class. Frankly, his analysis echoes everything said by Mintel’s China Expert up above with regard to the approach and mentality of the majority of Chinese consumers.

Source: goodfon.com

Source: goodfon.com

To quote just a small part of The Black Narcissus’ analysis:

As I have written elsewhere, this country, essentially, is not a perfume country, if by perfume country you mean somewhere, like the Arab countries, or France, Italy, Spain, places where a bottle of scent is sold somewhere every few seconds or so and is seen as something enjoyable, natural, a part of one’s public, and private, identity. Something to be enjoyed. Splashed on, used up, and bought again when you run out, with abandon. A bottle to be drained. This is emphatically not how it is seen in Japan. There are no perfume shops, the ‘profumeria’, like there are on practically every street corner in Rome or Barcelona:  just a limited selection sold in particularly designated department stores. And even these are not frequented with anyway near as much enthusiasm as the clothes floors, accessories, and particularly make up concessions like Kanebo and Shiseido (Japanese women do love their skin care). Perfume, here, is very much an afterthought. […][¶]

.. [O]n the whole, the wearing of perfume, in this country, is simply not something commonplace or even ‘natural’. It is sold; it is worn; there are customers milling about the perfume stands at the department stores as you would expect, but even here there are crucial distinctions between the pleasurable act of perfume shopping in Berlin or Los Angeles and the museum-like, hygienic perfection of the testing out a high-end scent at at top level deparment store such as Isetan, Shinjuku – the busiest, biggest, and most gleaming fashion emporium in all of Tokyo. […][¶]

Isetan's fragrance floor. Source: globalblue.com

Isetan’s fragrance floor. Source: globalblue.com

Ultimately, like non-Japanese or gaijin (the derogatory-tinged word that is applied to all foreigners, white ones in particular), perfume, of the expensive, western variety, is seen, I think as The Other. And The Other is basically something you don’t (want to) understand, you fear, or conversely have an untoward level of respect, even deference, for, but, for me, the fact remains that ‘the other’ is a huge and integral part of the general Japanese psyche, and I would personally place perfume within its unloving, distancing, and paranoid frame. […][¶]

Source: entertainment.desktopnexus.com

Source: entertainment.desktopnexus.com

[C]oncurrently – and this brings, us finally, to Chanel, and Guerlain –  a strange combination of hierarchy and snobbery (the desire to purchase expensive, branded foreign goods; the fierce, ubiquitous impulse to have the latest fashion – Japan is fad/craze/boom central par excellence -the seemingly almost genetic impulse to copy and follow other people so as not to stand out, plus the very deeply entrenched inferiority complex […] all of it creating, in the package of stylish, expensive, and particularly French, designer perfume, a very potent and covetable status symbol.  […][¶] 

… that perfume, in that box, baby, is there to be admired.

I OWN you, you fancy, little, French imported, Kokyu (‘high level’) objet.

And though it is possible that I may, one day, open you, to wear, perhaps, to the opera, or a classical concert, a play, or an afternoon tea party in Ginza with some of my old friends, you know, on second thought, I think that I probably won’t.

Who knows how strong this concentrated perfume will actually be?

What if in some way I were to offend others?

What if the foreign smell makes me stand out too much, and look ridiculous? No, no. I don’t think I will wear you actually. I’ll put you just in this drawer, here by the bedside. Fourth drawer down. There you go….  […][¶]

You know why all those glorious perfumed treasures were there, waiting for me, in that old, locked up glass cabinet? Because nobody, basically, wanted them. For the vast majority of the people here they would be nothing but a signifier, something that the majority of this perfume-hating nation basically never wants to understand, because, in end, wearing perfume is a foreign custom – it is not Japanese.

Old Japanese fragrance ad from The Black Narcissus.

Old Japanese fragrance ad from The Black Narcissus.

It is fascinating, isn’t it? The Black Narcissus makes a point that one definitely does smell perfume in Japan: from young kids with their “trashy, pink and blue perfumes;” the young mothers with their de rigueur uniform of L’Occitane‘s L’Eau des Quatres Reines; the glitzy, middle-aged women who will occasionally rock Poison, Coco, or Dune; or the men on the prowl wearing what they think of as lady-killer scents (Aramis or Platinum Egoïste, according to The Black Narcissus). Yet, the bottom line is that these all appear to be exceptions to the general rule, and were noticed simply because they stood out.

The Black Narcissus goes out of his way to state he is not trying to provide any anthropological or sociological expert conclusions, but I think the economic numbers from research groups like Mintel and the Euromonitor support a lot of his conclusions. The Japanese may buy perfume, but they don’t buy a lot of it — and the vast majority of them have a mental approach to the product that is about something other than how it actually smells. For them, it’s not about an olfactory escape into other lands or times; it’s not about a love for amber or floral aldehydes; and it’s certainly not about perfume as self-expression. It’s about a symbol of Western luxury that amplifies their aspirations, or about class identity amongst the group. It is a mere object.

Ad for Japan's Mystic Angel perfume. Source: Emirates.com

Ad for Japan’s Mystic Angel brand of perfume. Source: Emirates-perfumes.com

Japan’s tricky, complicated relationship with scent is underscored in another Westerner’s account of the situation. A 2009 piece called Scents and Sensibility: Perfume in Japan by Sylvia Saracino for GaijinPot reads, in part, as follows:

What’s the biggest pot hole just waiting to receive a foreigner’s foot? His or her artificial fragrance of choice. While perfume overdoses are rightly taboo in most cultures, even a tiny whiff of store bought scent could be deemed inappropriate in a Japanese workplace.

[¶] Consider some unfortunate cases: “One day, after a pretty great lesson, my head English teacher approached me. Assuming that she’d heard about the students’ participation, I asked for her opinion and was met with this awkward silence. With what looked like a great deal of difficulty, she finally said, ‘Your perfume is very strong! The children can smell it.’” Despite the temporary embarrassment, Leela concedes that it was better to have been informed of her inadvertent transgression early on. “I got the message and, clearly, wanted to die,” she continues, “but the woman insisted on clarifying that the only ladies in this country who wear perfume are either ‘very important’ or ‘working at night’.” [Emphasis added by me.]

Ad for the Mystic Angel brand's Milky Pearl. Source: emirates-perfumes.com

Ad for the Mystic Angel brand’s Milky Pearl. Source: emirates-perfumes.com

There seems to be a generational divide in Japan, based on the accounts in that piece. There is a story of about an older teacher who wore no perfume or frippery of any kind, and it is placed in sharp contrast to the account of Emiko, a young Japanese woman. Her tale:

“I studied abroad in Europe as a teenager,” explains Emiko, a young mother in Akasaka. “I love perfume! On the subway one day, I was wearing some and an old man yelled, ‘You stink!’” Momentarily miffed, Emi, then in her early twenties, took it upon herself to teach the heckler a lesson: “I got up out of my seat, went over and sat down right beside him!” In the end, personal style will always be a matter of choice.

How can fragrance companies do well in Japan when faced with such a complicated cultural and mental mindsets towards fragrance? Companies like Kilian and Estée Lauder’s Tom Ford are specifically making fragrances designed to appeal to the Asian market, whether in name, softness, style, or notes. For example, Tom Ford’s Atelier d’Orient Collection or Kilian’s Flower of Immortality. I have no idea how well they’ve done, as companies don’t release sales figures for specific products, let alone profitability statements for specific markets. I’m sure some luxury-loving Japanese people have purchased them, but I have to wonder how many.

C) PERFUME SUBSTITUTES & THE LOVE OF DOWNY: 

Source: walmart.com

Source: walmart.com

What I do know is that there is one olfactory genre that seems to be very successful in piercing the Asian market — and it’s not actual perfume. It is household fragrance and cleaning products! The Asahi Shinbun is a very well-established, influential Japanese paper, and it wrote an article entitled Fragrance to the Forefront in May 2013 which talks a lot about… Downy fabric softener. In fact, the newspaper article made the thoroughly disturbing, depressing suggestion that “consumers increasingly regard scented fabric softener as a replacement for perfume.” [Emphasis added by me.]

It gets worse. According to the Asahi Shinbun, Japanese consumers are experimenting with combining various fabric softeners to create their own signature scent. One company even has a “Make Your Own Happiness” center to facilitate mixing and matching its products. No, I’m not joking.

Lenor's "Make Your Own Happiness" center where you can mix and match various scented fabric softeners. Source: carpediemjapancom.blogspot.com

Lenor’s “Make Your Own Happiness” center where you can mix and match various scented fabric softeners. Source: carpediemjapancom.blogspot.com

The rest of article explains just how successful household items have become as a substitute for perfumery:

With their sense of mild body odor, Japanese generally frown at the idea of splashing themselves with strong fragrances.

In recent years, however, scented fabric softeners have taken off in a big way.

The surge in sales suggests that consumers increasingly regard scented fabric softener as a replacement for perfume; some are even blending softeners to come up their own original scents.

The product that triggered the trend was Downy, which is manufactured by Proctor & Gamble (P&G).

Sales of household products that leave a pleasant fragrance or freshness on clothing after washing began to soar at foreign-affiliated supermarkets and other outlets from around the mid-2000s,

In 2008, P&G released Lenor Happiness, a softener touted as having a strong fragrance. Since then, the market has been inundated with fabric softeners that are sweeter, more intense and have longer-lasting aromas. […][¶]

The Lion company's "aroma rich" fabric softener. Source: global.rakuten.com

The Lion company’s “aroma rich” fabric softener. Source: global.rakuten.com

Among fabric softeners offered by [another Japanese household cleaning company called] Lion, products emphasizing aroma saw sales in 2012 close to three times greater than those of 2005. Japan’s overall market for softeners grew from 62.6 billion yen ($644 million) in 2008 to 78.7 billion yen in 2012 according to market researcher Intage Inc.

Indoor air fresheners, insect repellents, cleaning products, kitchen detergents and other housecleaning items are also highlighting scent.

Under the concept of “Fragrant Housework” last year, Kao Corp., a major player in the Japanese consumer products market, pitched the idea of homemakers actually enjoying housework with the use of soothing fragrances. It started releasing rose-scented cleaners and other fragrant household products.

“Cleaning and washing is tedious. However, soothing fragrances can help motive people,” said brand manager Junji Shiratsuchi, 49.

TV commercial for Kao, a japanese brand of fabric softener, called "Haunted hay". Source: YouTube.com

TV commercial for Kao, a japanese brand of fabric softener, called “Haunted hay”. Source: YouTube.com

In an attempt to explain the situation, the newspaper turned to a Japanese scholar who has written about fragrance in the past. And he came up with a rather unexpected explanation for the whole thing:

Shigeru Kashima, a scholar of French literature who translated Alain Corbin’s “The Foul and the Fragrant,” noted there are instances in other countries of people preferring scent-free environments after a period of concealing offensive odors with fragrant smells.

Yet, he said the time eventually comes when people feel a need to start using fragrances as a means to stand out.

Still, why do people in Japan prefer scented fabric softener over perfume?

Kashima, trying to come to grips with the idea, came up with the following notion: “Japanese men seek immaturity and childishness in women rather than sexiness associated with maturity. As such, people probably prefer the cleanliness emphasized by fabric softener over the sexiness linked to perfume.[Emphasis added by me.]

There are no words to express my astonishment. To put it politely, it seems clear that the chap is struggling to come up with any sort of possible explanation, and is making quite a stretch. If he is correct (which I’m dubious about), then his assessment seems to say more about gender-roles and gender perceptions in Japan than anything else.

What I can say is that none of this seems to indicate a widespread, actual love of perfumery amongst the Japanese. The cultural state of mind is simply not there. Fragrances may be purchased for a variety of non-olfactory reasons, but there is no genuine historical, cultural and philosophical appreciation for them. (That appreciation seems to be reserved for cleanliness, and the household items which provide it.) Without such a foundational structure, I wonder how the industry can ever really grow to strong, vibrant levels, especially in the immediate future.

 ALL IN ALL:

This has been a long piece, and I want to thank you for any parts of it that you may have read. The problem in discussing any of this is that mere economic numbers are dry, while anecdotal evidence is hardly indicative of any larger trends. One must therefore combine the two together to get even a faint semblance of what may be happening within a particular country.

It’s hard not to contrast the situation in China and Japan with that of Brazil whose massive perfume market is the biggest in the world. It wasn’t always that way, but the country has an incredibly strong perfume culture and you can see the result. In the case of the two Asian countries, one can really only speculate about the larger or cultural reasons for why perfume hasn’t taken off as a modern trend. China with its booming economy and its vast population is particularly hard to categorize with any blanket statement other than the fact that its history prevented a longstanding, widespread tradition of perfumery from taking root.

Source: perfuglamour.es

Source: perfuglamour.es

As for the future, it may require a team of experts — sociologists, historians, economists, and psychologists — in each country to do a detailed study of the various socio-economic groups, their generational differences, and their attitudes to scent in order to really understand whether fragrance has a chance of taking a firm hold in their psyche. I’m talking about an actual love of perfumery, not mere purchases. In my opinion, a genuine appreciation for scent is necessary to drive a truly strong market. If it happens, I think it will take a generation, or perhaps two. The seeds are there — even maybe in Japan — but it’s going to take time.

What might help are celebrity fragrances. They capture the attention of the youth demographic which can be a very significant force in driving overall sales, as evidenced by the U.K, and America, and in creating perfume awareness as a whole. Even in India, it is the young who are demonstrating the greatest interest in perfumed creations, though it is mainly centered on hygiene products for now.

One thing is certain, though: the Japanese really love their scented fabric softeners.

Brazil’s Massive Fragrance Market

Glass Perfume Bottles--Swedish art. Source: pixels.com

Glass Perfume Bottles–Swedish art. Source: pixels.com

Brazil‘s roaring fragrance market is the largest in the world, and the country has an incredibly strong perfume culture. I thought it would be interesting to take a closer look at the figures, what sells, who buys, and the best-selling fragrances for both men and women.

As always, I would like to stress that I have no background in finance, economics, marketing, or anything remotely mathematical in nature. I do not claim to be an expert on any of those things, there are limits to how comprehensive I can be in a single article, and I write about what interests me, as well as what I have access to. If you are more interested in another country, you can always check my prior pieces on the U.S. and international fragrance markets, the late 2013 U.S. industry figures, the global fragrance market, and the celebrity perfume industry. Finally, please note that all of my articles focus on the commercial fragrance markets, not the niche one.

THE OVERALL ECONOMIC FIGURES:

Photo: Luxuryactivist.com

Photo: Luxuryactivist.com

Brazil is a country that adores fragrance and, as a result, it is the largest perfume market in the world. Every research group I’ve seen makes that last point, often in a tone of great admiration. To quote a Cosmetics Design article from March 2014:

By 2013 Brazil was already the most valuable fragrances market in the world, worth more than US$6 billion, built on the back of high per capita consumption as Brazilians use, on average, three times more fragrances by volume than consumers in the U.S., the next most valuable market.

It is such a valuable market than five of the major fragrance houses in the country (being Givaudan, IFF, Firmenich, Symrise and Takasago) invested around R$160 million in Brazil in recent years, making Sao Paolo one of the most important cities in the world in terms of development of fragrances, behind only New York and Paris.

IFFs rising stock prices. Source: FoxBusinessnews.com

IFFs rising stock prices. Source: FoxBusinessnews.com

The aromachemical giants’ investment has paid off. If you read my prior pieces on U.S. and global sales, you will see that each company points to Brazil as one reason for their strong sales in the emerging markets. In a few cases, those emerging market figures have helped boost the company’s overall bottom line quite substantially.

The Luxury Activist website has compiled some overall figures for the beauty industry in Brazil, based on reports from Euromonitor and a wide variety of other sources:

Top Beauty segments in Brazil in 2012 by sales

  • Hair care products: 4 billion US$
  • Alcoholic Fragrances: 2.7 Billion US$
  • Men’s Shaving products: 2 Billion US$
  • Deodorants: 1.7 billion US$
  • Bath products: 1.7 billion US$
  • Children beauty products: 0.6 Billion US$

Alcoholic Fragrances and deodorants have been growing by 15% every year on the past 5 years.

source: girlandboything.com

source: girlandboything.com

According to a recent Premium Beauty News article, Brazil’s fragrance industry is so profitable that it is actually one of the driving forces for the growth of the global market as a whole:

Brazil was among the fastest growing markets in the last five years, with CAGR [Compound Annual Growth Rate] of 13.6% in local currency terms. While growth will slow over the next five years, Brazil will retain leadership of the global fragrance market, forecast for sales of $5.1 billion in 2017.

For Brazilians, wearing fragrance has become a daily ritual, with 90% owning and 84% wearing it regularly. [Emphasis in the original.]

WHAT SELLS & WHO BUYS IT:

The Cosmetics Design report talks about who is buying perfume and the reasons why. It mentions how men play a key role in terms of perfume sales, “consuming 48.7% of fragrances by volume.” Furthermore, even the poor buy a lot of perfume, almost as much as the very richest households in terms of overall quantity. What drives all this? The article quotes a finding by the Canadean research firm that consumers seek “‘to affirm particular visions of femininity or masculinity, including the use fragrances [sic] to deliberately break gender stereotypes[.]'” However, consumers are also motivated by a desire to try novel, new scents and/or to pamper themselves.

Natura fragrances. Source: their website.

Natura fragrances. Source: their website.

Most of these scents are not expensive ones. According to Euromonitor, 90% of fragrances purchased by the Brazilians are mass-market creationsAs a whole, two national brands control 60% of the market share, Natura and O Boticario. Remember the aromachemical companies and the R$160 million that they’ve spent on expansion? Well, according to the Euromonitor, they’re making fragrances for the Brazilian national companies, in addition to creating some for international brands.

I found a 2010 Euromonitor PDF report which gives a little more information on perfume sales and, in particular, best-selling brands:

Megan Fox ad for Avons Instinct. Source: trendhunter.com

Megan Fox ad for Avon’s Instinct. Source: trendhunter.com

In common with many other categories in Brazilian beauty and personal care, fragrance sales are typified by a very low presence of premium brands. In Brazil, the premium segment accounts for a mere 6% of the total fragrances market, and the best-selling brands are primarily those from mass-priced direct sellers such as Avon and Oriflame. This is in stark contrast to most other countries with a value market of equal size to Brazil: in the USA, for example, premium brands accounted for 79% in 2008. The difference stems again from the high taxes on luxury goods in Brazil, and also the comparatively far lower disposable incomes. [Emphasis added by me.]

One of Natura's boutiques in Brazil. Source: naturabrasil.fr

One of Natura’s boutiques in Brazil. Source: naturabrasil.fr

While most perfume sales in Brazil center on mass-market local creations, the more recent Euromonitor report indicates that there is a possibility for consumers to start buying international and more expensive fragrances from the premium sector. Generally speaking, and based on what I have seen when the term is used for American sales, the “premium” sector seems to center on fragrances in the US $60-$80 range, while luxury appears to be defined as those priced at a little over $100. However, that is merely my personal observation, and is limited to U.S. pricing.

Brazilian pricing is significantly more inflated because the country imposes a whopping tariff on imported goods. The tax is well over 40%, so many consumers go abroad to purchase their high-end perfume. “In fact, the average price for premium fragrances in Brazil is more than double that of the US, at over US$100 per 50ml.” So, when the Euromonitor is talking about Brazilians possibly move away from mainstream, local scents into more expensive perfumery, there is a definite obstacle in their path.

Source: blog.jellyweb.com.br

Source: blog.jellyweb.com.br

On the other hand, Sephora has recently arrived in Brazil, and is sure to have an impact on sales of “premium” fragrances. The Euromonitor states:

While there are undoubtedly difficult challenges for premium fragrance brands to overcome in order to get a strong foothold in Brazil’s fragrance loving-market, Sephora’s presence is sure to shake up the field. As the use of fragrances is deeply embedded in the country, Brazil is forecast to not only have the highest volume per capita in 2016, but also to be the third highest spending country in per capita terms, behind only the Netherlands and Switzerland[Emphasis added by me.]

PREMIUM FRAGRANCE BEST-SELLERS: THE TOP 30 FOR MEN & WOMEN:

I find all these numbers and figures useful, but they don’t really give me a good sense or feel of what it is like for the average perfume lover in Brazil. I don’t know Portuguese, so I’m hindered in trying to get a more micro understanding of the culture, but I found it interesting to browse the perfume section of Sephora Brasil‘s website. There, they have the horrifying Nicki Minaj perfume bottle, along with Joop!Taylor Swift‘s Wonderstruck rollerball, and Azzaro men’s fragrances. Sephora also seems to have an exclusive for Guerlain (La Petite Robe Noire seems to be successful, as it is everywhere) and Armani creations.

What gave me a slightly better sense of what is going on was the Luxury Activist‘s list of best-selling fragrances. I assume he is talking solely about international “premium” perfumes, since the other reports listed above state that 90% of fragrances purchased by the Brazilians are mass-market creations and only 6% are “premium” brands. So, do keep that in mind when you read the list.

J'Adore

According to the site, Brazil’s Top 30 best-selling women’s (premium) fragrances in 2012 are:

  1. J’Adore – Christian Dior with 4.9% of market shares
  2. 212 VIP – Carolina Herrera
  3. Flower by Kenzo – Kenzo
  4. CH – Carolina Herrera
  5. 212 Carolina Herrera
  6. Hypnôse – Lancôme
  7. 212 Sexy – Carolina Herrera
  8. Lady Million – Paco Rabanne
  9. Ange ou Demon – Givenchy
  10. Ck One – Calvin Klein
  11. Dolce & Gabbana – Dolce & Gabbana
  12. Ck Be – Calvin Klein
  13. L’Eau d’Issey – Isssey Myake
  14. Tommy Girl – Tommy Hilfiger
  15. Gabriela Sabatini – Gabriela Sabatini
  16. Amor Amor – Cacharel
  17. Black XS for her – Paco Rabanne
  18. Very Irresistible -Givenchy
  19. Nina – Nina Ricci
  20. Armani Code for women – Giorgio Armani
  21. Dior Addict 2 – Christian Dior
  22. Angel – Thierry Mugler
  23. Diesel Fuel for Life for Her – Diesel
  24. Anais Anais – Cacharel
  25. Kenzo Amour -Kenzo
  26. Femme – Montblanc
  27. Eternity – Calvin Klein
  28. Amarige – Givenchy
  29. Lolita Lempicka – Lolita Lempicka
  30. Organza – Givenchy
Source: boots.com

Source: boots.com

In analysing the top 30 of best selling feminine fragrances, here is what we can say from a olfactory taste point of view. 40% of these fragrances are floral fragrances. J’Adore by Dior, Very Irresistible or Anais Anais are the floral spectrum of brazilian women taste for florals. Anaïs Anaïs has been in the top selling fragrances for decades in Brazil, along with Chanel N.5 and the modern florals like J’Adore and Very Irresistible, have taken the lead.

Nevertheless, we can see that Orientals and modern orientals represent now 32% of best selling fragrances, which is new. In deed, Fragrances like Hypnôse by Lancôme, Black XS for Her and even Angel by Thierry Mugler, have found their place in a market getting more and more mature and sophisticated.  […][¶]

At last, we can see that brands like Carolina Herrera, Paco Rabanne and Givenchy have several fragrances in the top 30. These 3 brands invested the brazilian market for a very long time and they are very powerful there. [Emphasis added by me.]

Enrique Iglesias for Azzaro Pour Homme Photo: Steven Klein. Source: fashionwindows.net

Enrique Iglesias for Azzaro Pour Homme Photo: Steven Klein. Source: fashionwindows.net

For the men, the Luxury Activist has this top 30 list for 2012:

  1. Azzaro pour homme – Azzaro
  2. Ferrari Black – Ferrari Profumi
  3. One Million – Paco Rabanne
  4. 212 Men NYC – Carolina Herrera
  5. Joop! Homme – Joop
  6. 212 VIP – Carolina Herrera
  7. Kouros – Yves Saint Laurent
  8. Polo – Ralph Lauren
  9. Hugo – Hugo Boss
  10. Polo Blue – Ralph Lauren
  11. CH Men – Carolina Herrera
  12. 212 Sexy Men – Carolina Herrera
  13. The One for men – Dolce & Gabbana
  14. Black XS – Paco Rabanne
  15. Acqua di Gio pour homme – Giorgio Armani
  16. Montblanc – Montblanc
  17. Polo Black – Ralph Lauren
  18. L’Eau d’Issey pour homme – Issey Miyake
  19. Fahrenheit – Christian Dior
  20. Lacoste Essential – Lacoste
  21. Armani Code – Giorgio Armani
  22. Tommy – Tommy Hilfiger
  23. Le Mâle – Jean Paul Gaultier
  24. Dolce & Gabbana pour homme – Dolce & Gabbana
  25. Kenzo pour homme – Kenzo
  26. Ck One – Calvin Klein
  27. Diesel Fuel for Life for him – Diesel
  28. Euphoria Men Intense – Calvin Klein
  29. Eternity for men – Calvin Klein
  30. Play – Givenchy

The masculine market is more traditional with best sellers like Azzaro, Polo, Kouros, Fahrenheit or even Hugo. All fragrances with more than 20 years old. Carolina Herrera, Paco Rabanne and Calvin Klein have also a strong dominance. 3 main olfactory structures share the market. Little advantage with Aromatic structures leading the market by 42%, followed by Woody fragrances by 31% and Orientals for 27%.

One Million ad. Source: toptenplus.com/

One Million ad. Source: toptenplus.com/

The arrival of One Million by Paco Rabanne at the 3rd place represents a new entry, which is less aromatic and more oriental despite of some woody and yet fresh-aromatic start.

The Luxury Activist has the most detailed, lengthy list of anything I’ve seen thus far, but the Perfume Shrine has something rather similar for the female best-sellers, though not for the men. According to the Perfume Shrine (which is using NPD information and the testimony of two individuals, including Renata Acshcar who runs Brazil’s Museum of Perfume), the top 3 best-sellers for men in 2012 were:

Source: tienda.murlana.es

Source: tienda.murlana.es

  1. Paco Rabanne pour Homme
  2. Polo by Ralph Lauren
  3. 212 Men (Carolina Herrera)

What I found more interesting there was the discussion in the comments. Specifically, the concrete example from one Brazilian, “Henrique/Rick,” about just how much more expensive the “prestige” fragrances can be in Brazil:

About the taxes, to have an idea of how much more we pay, a normal Carolina Herrera Scent in the 100ml bottle can easily cost the price of a Chanel Exclusif in USA (and a Chanel Exclusif in the 200ml bottle cost something around 430-440 dollars).

It’s obviously an astronomical difference from the prices of the same products in America. As Henrique/Rick stated in his comment, without that huge tariff, Brazilians would undoubtedly spend even more than they already do.

 ALL IN ALL:

Brazil’s passion for perfumery across every socio-economic strata leaves many other countries in the dust. The only thing stopping it from having even more explosive numbers is their taxes. Without that, Brazil would probably be the answer to niche perfume houses world-wide, as would several other Latin American countries in similar situations. (Mexico is another strong market for commercial fragrances and for scented products as a whole. Argentina also has a difficult tariff problem.)

Companies who want to get ahead should — and undoubtedly will — follow the path of the aromachemical giants and invest more heavily in Brazil.