Perfume Review: Armani Privé Les Éditions Couture Nuances (Limited Edition)

Posted on June 30, 2013 by Kafkaesque

There is a great irony in calling a perfume “Nuances” when, for the vast majority of its life, it has none. Such is the case with the new, limited-edition, super expensive, ultra exclusive, iris fragrance from Giorgio Armani called Nuances. It is part of the prestige Privé line, and the even more exclusive sub-collection called Les Éditions Couture.

Nuances is an eau de parfum for men and women which was released in May 2013, and which takes refined elegance to such stratospheric heights that it’s practically bloodless and gasping for oxygen. It made me think of a perfectly coiffed, elegant, eighty-year old dowager doddering away in seclusion on her aristocratic British estate; or of a very pale, elderly gigolo immaculately garbed in Armani who tries to fade as unobtrusively as possible into the background at a cocktail party while his current patron makes the rounds. Nuances is bloodless, simply bloodless. It’s just there — except when it’s not, because it’s decided to take off for a jaunt for and act like a ghost until it decides to grace you with its presence again.

But let’s start at the beginning. In typical Armani understatement, his website barely bothers to discuss the perfume in any detail other than a brief, completely unhelpful paragraph that bleats on about nuances, prisms, and the “juxtapositions of light and colour.” Thankfully, other sources don’t believe in his obsession with minimalism. For example, The Moodie Report says that the inspiration for the perfume was a piece of fabric, and explains how iris is the olfactory thread that needles its way through all three of the Armani Privé Couture fragrances:

The scent was inspired by an Armani fabric print, which featured in the designer’s latest fashion collection. The origin of the print was a photograph, taken using optical prisms and mirrors.

Each of the 1,000 signature bottles is dressed in the organza print; every pouch is unique, and adorned with leather ties. The lacquered green bottle is topped with a marble-like cap, in different shades of black, turquoise and anthracite.

Iris is the key ingredient that connects all three Armani Privé Éditions Couture fragrances (Armani Privé La Femme Bleue features black iris; Armani Privé Nacre musky iris).

The press release quoted by Harrods adds even further information and detail:

Inspired by this season’s fashion collection, Armani Prive Nuances is a brilliant reflection of the multi-faceted world of Giorgio Armani. Each of the 1,000 signature bottles comes dressed in the organza print, specially selected from Mr. Armani’s workshops in Milan. Within the pouch, the bottle itself is a work of art. Its cap, reminiscent of smooth marble, is crafted in three colours of resin making each one of them unique.

The fragrance uncovers a woody-iris accord, build around Italian orris absolute. A juxtaposition of different notes reveal an enveloping fragrance, sophisticated yet radiant, with a light note of androgyny in its woody base.

Armani doesn’t bother to list the notes for Nuances, but the sum total — as compiled from the Moodie report and Fragrantica — seems to be:

Italian orris absolute, bergamot, cinnamon, heliotrope, vetiver, vanilla, cocoa, benzoin and sandalwood.

Source: Kootation.com

Nuances opens on my skin with a brief flash of bergamot, followed by iris. The latter is floral, rooty, earthy, and lightly powdered all at once. Within minutes, the iris is warmed by vanilla, but it is the louder, more dominant influence of vetiver which initially has the greatest impact. When combined with the iris, it creates an earthiness that feels almost like that of damp soil.

Heliotrope. Source: bestflowerwallpapers.com

The iris keeps flickering and changing in these early moments. One minute, it is infused by fresh bergamot, the next by a light, musky vanilla, then by earthy notes. Once in a while, it feels infused by an amorphous woodiness. Generally, however, Nuances is merely different degrees of floral rootiness backed by vanilla.

The vanilla is interesting because it’s a very light, sheer, dry note, but whiffs of other elements lurk underneath. Something warmer, richer, softer and creamier. It’s not custard, cinnamon, or cocoa, but some indecipherable combination of all of them. A few minutes later, the vanilla is joined by heliotrope which adds a strong element of sweet almonds that almost borders on pate d’amande or marzipan.

At the thirty minute mark, Nuances starts to shift a little. Now, it is primarily a woody, musky, iris fragrance with lightly powdered, almond-y heliotrope and vanilla. The rooty, earthy undertones have become much less dominant, as has the vetiver. Taking their place instead is a light sprinkling of white cocoa powder with the faintest dash of cinnamon. Nuances remains this way for the next hour without any significant change — except in the base. It is always an amorphous, abstract, woody muskiness infused by vanilla, but there is something increasingly unpleasant about it. There is a subtle nuance that, in some indescribable manner, feels a little cheap and almost synthetic, but not quite. Perhaps, it is the musk which reminds me of the white version in a lot of inexpensive, mass-market fragrances. Or, perhaps, it is the vanilla which feels surprisingly low quality for such an expensive fragrance. Adding to the subtle flickers of something unpleasant lurking down below is a humming in the base. Luca Turin once described ISO E Super as a “low woody hum,” and that is precisely how it is here. Later, alas, my synthetic nemesis makes a far greater appearance, resulting in a charming 2 hour headache.

Right around the 90-minute mark, Nuances becomes a skin scent and, by the two-hour one, it is nothing more than a faded, muted, almost abstract, woody muskiness with a soft, lightly powdered, floral veil that just barely — barely — translates to iris. There are no concrete, distinct, individual traces of sandalwood, vetiver, cocoa, cinnamon, or anything else for that matter.

Then, three hours in, Nuances vanishes. I put my arm right to my nostrils, and sniffed like a man dying for oxygen. I sniffed like the very best German Shepherd K9 in a drug squad. Nope, caput, finito, basta. I thought to myself, “okay, so much for longevity,” and shrugged. Then, lo’ and behold, an hour later, Nuances decides to suddenly come back. I have no idea where it decided to go, or why it decided to flounce off, but it apparently decided to revisit my arm. A few of the Chanel Exclusifs like to play “ghost,” as I call it (31 Rue Cambon, I’m looking at you in particular!), and clearly, Nuances is the same sort of animal. But, once Nuances decided to stay, it bloody well wouldn’t give up! All in all, it remained — in a nebulous, abstract, musky, woody, slightly powdered, monotonous, faintly iris-y hum — for another 11.5 hours. Granted, I had to practically inhale at my arm like a rabid, frothing, deranged animal to detect it a lot of the time, but it was absolutely there, no question about it.

Normally, I would test a fragrance with these sorts of odd characteristics at least twice — but I really couldn’t muster up the energy for Nuances. It’s not just that the perfume gave me a headache at one point from the subtle flickers of ISO E Super in the base; it’s mostly because Nuances was driving me a little mad with its linear refinement. It is so well-coiffed, so perfectly smooth, immaculate, conservative, sophisticatedly dull and unobtrusive, it verges on the mundane. I kept thinking of George Hamilton or Giorgio Armani having all the blood sucked out and replaced by embalming fluids, until they lost their perfect tans and their lifeless corpses were propped up on a chair somewhere. In fairness, I think a hardcore iris addict would probably love Nuances. Of course, that assumes that they could easily and consistently detect it on their skin — something about which I’m highly dubious. Yet, I think even they would admit that there are, in fact, few nuances to the fragrance, and that it is rather limited in both depth and range.

All of this makes Nuances shockingly over-priced. Yes, I understand it’s not only Armani Privé, but also limited-edition with only 1000 bottles made. But it’s £500.00! Nuances is not listed at all on the U.S. Armani website, so if we’re to go by the current exchange rate, that’s $760! If you want to pay a small fortune for an iris fragrance with actual nuances, and which is just slightly less difficult to obtain, then may I point you in the direction of Ormonde Jayne‘s Tsarina from the new Four Corners of The Earth Collection? It’s a lovely, incredibly elegant, sophisticated iris scent with layers, and without the many, varied problems of the Armani one. Plus, Tsarina is cheaper, too. (Well, purely on a relative scale of things….)

As you can tell, I was not a fan of Nuances. If it were a $100 (or even $150) bottle of perfume, and you were a hardcore iris addict who didn’t mind a really conservative, boring, but elegant, iris soliflore, then I’d definitely recommend giving Nuances a try to see if the nonexistent sillage and peculiar longevity issues work out for you. As it is, however, then no. Simply no.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Nuances is a limited-edition Eau de Parfum that only comes in a 100 ml/3.4 oz bottle. I can’t find pricing in U.S. dollars, but it costs £500.00 or Swiss CHF 690. Nuances is shown on the International Armani Beauty website and on its UK Beauty site (where it is currently sold out). However, neither Nuances nor the rest of the Privé Couture line is shown on Armani’s U.S. website somehow. Plus, I can’t seem to figure out if you can purchase the perfume from the non-UK, international website directly, as I don’t see a button to click and put the fragrance into a cart. Armani has an Index Website listing with versions for Asia, Italy, Germany, Spain and elsewhere that you may want to use to see if Nuances is listed for your location. In the U.S.: Nuances will undoubtedly be sold at any Armani boutique that carries the Privé Collection line of fragrances. Outside the U.S.: Nuances is currently available at Harrods. I know it is available in the Middle East. Normally, I try to provide as many online retail links as possible, but in the case of Nuances, it proved to be a little hard. And, to be honest, I wasn’t very motivated.

#200 – Lists, Favorites, Stats & Oddities

Posted on June 28, 2013 by Kafkaesque

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

FAVORITES:

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

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

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

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

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

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

CLOSE, SO CLOSE, BUT NOT QUITE THERE:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TRAUMATIC FRAGRANCE EXPERIENCES:

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

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

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

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

DEEPLY DISAPPOINTING:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BEST BACKSTORIES:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

STATS BY PERFUME HOUSE:

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

Tom Ford: 12

Serge Lutens: 11

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

Amouage: 8

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

Chanel: 7

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

Ormonde Jayne: 6

Neela Vermeire Créations: 5

Maison Francis Kurkdjian: 5

Parfum d’Empire: 4

Montale: 4

Histoires de Parfums: 4

MOST FREQUENTLY READ REVIEWS:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WEB-ENGINE SEARCHES:

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

sex smelling dirty sweaty socks

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

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

male full frontal (22 times)

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

big muscular caveman wanking (2 times)

naked Omar Sharif (2 times)

perfumed panties seduction stories

Excrement perfume

sexy images for blanket in the forest.

“flaming flamingo lily smells bad.”

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

sadomasochistic using vapor rub

smell of a woman’s decomposition during sex

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

LASTLY…

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

So, onwards and upwards to another 100!

Perfume Review: gs03 by Geza Schoen for biehl. parfumkunstwerke

Posted on June 28, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Photo: Sohrab Ghotbi. Used with permission.

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

Geza Schoen. Source: Hypoluxe.

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

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

gs03

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

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

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

Juniper.

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

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

Source: picstopin.com

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

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

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

Source: picstopin.com

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

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

Source: wallpaper777.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DETAILS:

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

Perfume Review – Amouage Fate (Woman)

Posted on June 25, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Marion Cotillard photographed by Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott for the September 2010 issue of Vogue Paris. Source: Glamscheck.com

Marion Cotillard photographed by Mert Alas & Marcus Piggott for Paris Vogue, September 2010 issue. Source: Glamscheck.com

She stared at the rumpled bed which bore the traces of their scent. As the light streamed through the windows of their hotel room at the George V, she saw the trail of clothes leading to the scene of their final tryst. She recalled how crisp, aloof and controlled she had been at the start in her sleek, sculptured, black, couture dress, smelling of citruses, oakmoss and cool daffodils. The notes were as sparkling and cool as lemonade, or the champagne that chilled by the window nook, until he began kissing her neck…

She remembered how her limbs melted when he unzipped her dress, warming the daffodil scent until the roses and jasmine came out, infused by a musk that softly mimicked that of her own body. Flecks of rich, warm, smooth castoreum flickered like the flame of the candles that he had lit around their bed. Subtle touches of leather stirred like the trim on the expensive lingerie that he admired with a gleam in his eye — lingerie as black as the trails of sweetened incense that ran through her fragrance.

Marion Cotillard photographed by Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott for the September 2010 issue of Vogue Paris. Source: bkrw.com

She thought of how he had gently placed soft, lush, velvety, pink roses around her body, framing her with their heady scent. He kissed her with all the spiciness of chili pepper and cinnamon, the scent of his soap mixing with their fire, with her musk, with the tendrils of incense and smoke, with the honey that he drizzled on her trembling stomach. She thought of their passion and how, when it was over, he had gently covered her body with the sheer, silky sheet that smelled of creamy vanilla and powder. She had been fated to meet him, she had been fated to succumb, she had been fated to have the affair end in the apex of passionate heat, and she was fated to forever remember him when she put on her fragrance. Fate.

Fate (Woman) is the latest release from the royal perfume house of Amouage and will be released worldwide in July. I received a sample thanks to one of my readers, “Dubaiscents,” who generously sent me a sample of both the men and women’s versions. Yesterday, I reviewed Fate for Men which is a very sophisticated, dry, woody fragrance centered on the immortelle flower. Fate for Women (hereinafter just “Fate” for the purposes of this review) is very different, but equally elegant and sophisticated. It is a chypre-oriental hybrid created by Dorothée Piot and which Amouage describes as follows:

Fate for Woman is a chypre oriental with a rich floral heart intensified by a dark and destructive accord resonating with the tumultuous unknown.

Top notes: bergamot, cinnamon, chilli, pepper.

Heart notes: rose, narcissus [daffodil], jasmine, frankincense, labdanum.

Base notes: vanilla bean, frankincense, benzoin, castoreum, patchouli, oakmoss, leather.

Fate opens on my skin with a burst of yellow: fresh, crisp citrus notes, and the sunniest of daffodils. There is a momentary flicker of something sour that is soon replaced by spiciness, rose infused with patchouli, oakmoss, stirrings of a quiet, soft leather note, and a touch of musk. The oakmoss is a subtle swirl of nuances: fresh, green, slightly mineralized, and grey. The castoreum is smooth, warm, ever so slightly animalic, and sweet.

The true stars, however, are the yellow notes. The bergamot starts off crisply but, within minutes, turns softer, warmer and spicier, evoking the scent of lemonade that has been sweetened by the sun and by honey. At the same time, a subtle hint of vanillic powder at its base also makes me think of powdered lemonade crystals. Swirling all around it is the daffodil note that starts off being fresh and cool, but, like everything else in Fate, soon turns warmer, spicier, richer. In its footsteps is a delicate rose that is never as sweet as a tea rose, but also never as jammy, fruited, or liqueured as a dark damask rose. It feels like the headiest of pink roses, except it has the crisp, fresh zestiness of lemon. Both flowers are flecked by a mossy patchouli which works from the background to turn Fate into a very smooth, lush, velvety chypre fragrance.

Source: freehdwalls.net

Slowly, slowly, the base notes turn Fate into something warmer, richer, and spicier. As the rose note gains in strength, stepping on the center stage to share the spotlight with the daffodil, jasmine takes its place in the wings. Lurking further in the shadows is a subtle layer of soapiness. About twenty minutes in, like a brash understudy late to a rehearsal, chili stumbles in. Red, spicy, and adding a perfect touch of subtle heat, the red pepper bumps into the floral notes, warming them even further. In its wake is a shy incense note. It is far from the usual sharp, powerful frankincense so prevalent in many Amouage scents. Instead, the smoke is sweetened, soft, subtle, and verging on sunny.

Source: Kootation.com

Forty minutes in, Fate starts to slowly strip off its formal, crisp, citric-oakmoss, chypre veneer to bring out its oriental underwear. Like passionate kisses warming a lover’s body, the daffodil-rose bouquet turn more and more sensual, dancing on slightly musked skin. Infused by bergamot, trailed by jasmine, flecked by spicy chili pepper along with sweetened smoke and a shiver of vanilla, Fate is lushly heady, potent, incredibly elegant, and slightly haughty, but reeking of sensuous stirrings. The oakmoss and patchouli are still highly evident in the base, but the other notes feel alive with an oriental silkiness that evokes the most seductive of lingerie peeking out from underneath an elegant black dress.

"Red Orange Rose Yellow Abstract" by LTPhotographs, Etsy Store. (Link to website embedded within, click on photo.)

“Red Orange Rose Yellow Abstract” by LTPhotographs, Etsy Store. (Link to website embedded within photo.)

At the two-hour mark, Fate shifts a little. The florals turn red with warmth and sweetness. Cinnamon replaces the chili on their velvety petals. But, to my slight disappointment, the underlying soapiness becomes much more pronounced. On a more positive note, Fate also begins to take on quite an ambered hue. The labdanum starts to rise to the surface, emitting a lightly honeyed aroma that mixes beautifully with the amber, the plushly sensuous castoreum, the musk, and the patchouli. The incense is still subtle, light and sweetened, and it still remains largely in the background.

Source: wallpaperswa.com

Three and a half hours in, the base notes fully rise to the surface. Fate becomes a labdanum, oakmoss, and patchouli amber fragrance infused with rich, sweet, velvety, floral nuances, along with musk and a quiet tinge of soapiness. The labdanum’s honeyed characteristics have been largely replaced by a nutty, almost chestnut-like undertone that is a perfect counterpoint to the dry, but plush, oakmoss-patchouli.

Source: Superstock.com

Slowly, slowly, like a flower unfurling its petals over the span of hours in the sun, Fate turns softer, more ambered, more golden. The barely animalic musk underlying the scent melts even further into the skin, the labdanum glows like bronzed gold, and the vanillic benzoin adds a radiating shimmer to the now muted, very abstract, gauzy florals. By the start of the ninth hour, the final stage has begun, and Fate is a sensuous skin veil of rich vanilla cream flecked with powder, golden amber, and a light, heated, sweetened muskiness.

All in all, Fate lasted an astronomical 13.25 hours on my perfume-consuming skin. The sillage was monstrous at first, wafting several feet across the room. It was heady, narcotic, sweet, but also very dry and crisp initially, before slowly turning more languorous, more sensuous, more oriental. Fate’s projection is powerful, even if it isn’t nuclear-tipped in the way of some Amouage floral scents (like Ubar, for example), but it did soften by the start of the third hour. My sample was a spray (and aerosolization adds to a fragrance’s power), but I think Fate would be forceful even if dabbed on. It didn’t become a skin scent on me until the start of the sixth hour, though it was still very noticeable when I brought my arm close to my nose. Fate only became hard to detect and somewhat abstract towards the end of the eighth hour, though it lingered on for almost another five hours in a very silken, muted, sheer form.

I think Fate Woman is an astoundingly beautiful, complex, refined fragrance — a sophisticated chypre-oriental which combines the best elements of both categories. It is perfectly balanced: never too sweet or too dry, never too indolent or spiced, never too charged by patchouli, musk, or castoreum. I was a little surprised by the softness of the frankincense smoke, especially as my skin normally tends to amplify the note, but I’m also glad that Amouage chose to mute its signature base accord. Fate doesn’t need it; the beauty of the fragrance lies, in part, in how pitch-perfect it is across the wide spectrum of its notes. (As a side note, the perfume stunned The Ultimate Perfume Snob, a.k.a my mother, who interrupted a conversation to ask “what is that smell?”, then shook her head and blinked in disbelief at Fate’s beauty, asked to smell it several more times, wanted to know where to buy it, and finally lost all reserved, British aloofness to become practically passionate in her raves. Trust me, it rarely happens.)

Something about Fate draws you in for another sniff, again and again, especially when its sensuous, warm heart starts to bloom. Yet, there is also a refined, cool sophistication in its opening which makes it very much one of those scents that feels like protective armor, if that makes any sense. Again and again, I have the vision of a cool, confident, wealthy woman, perfectly groomed and sophisticated in the elegantly cut, structured, designer black dress that is the uniform of choice for some Parisienne women. And I see her stripping off her armor to reveal the seductive satin and black lace lingerie below which she then peels off entirely to reveal her smooth, softly musked, lightly powdered, silky, amber skin. Control and abandon, French style.

Yet, for all that imagery and despite the gender classification in the perfume’s name, I happen to think Fate Woman is quite unisex in nature, and a scent which would be very seductive on a man as well. The same visual would apply to a man, only he’s cloaked in a dark Armani suit with a crisp white shirt, and looks a little like Hugh Jackman…. Regardless of gender, Fate is a very wearable fragrance, though I think its powerful projection may make it a little too much for the office unless you’re very careful with amount you spray. It would, however, be perfect to wear on a date or to seduce.

Lest any of this was even remotely ambiguous, let me put it plainly: you need to try Fate Woman. Like its male counterpart (Fate Man), it shows why Amouage is one of the leaders of the perfume pack. With its sophisticated, nuanced, complex, often innovative and intellectual, but always luxurious and opulent fragrances, Amouage is really one of the best perfume houses out there. And, under the deft, brilliant direction of Christopher Chong, I doubt that’s going to change any time soon.

DETAILS:

Availability & Stores: Fate (Woman) is an eau de parfum and is available in two sizes: 1.7 oz/50 ml which costs $310 or €240; or 3.4 oz/100 ml eau de parfum which costs $375 or €290. As of the time of this post, the perfume is not yet officially released beyond the Amouage website and boutiques, but it will be widely available as of July 2013, according to CaFleureBon. At the present time, the perfume is unfortunately sold out on Amouage online, but I’m sure that will be remedied soon. I will update this post with retail links much later when the perfume is officially released and becomes widely available.