by

Vacation in a Bottle: Yosh Ginger Ciao

I love Hawaii: beautiful nature, relaxed atmosphere and great food. And for what I value in that type of vacation the most, the best time for visiting Hawaii is late September – early October: ocean is the warmest possible while the air and sun is already tolerable at least part of the day; many tropical fruit and vegetables are the best in that season; sunsets are around dinner time; and it is slightly less crowded since school has just started.

 

Sunset on Maui

 

It’s mid-September already, and I long for that leisure week of swimming, stargazing and eating tropical fruit and fish. Sadly, this year we didn’t get to go to a tropical. European vacation, especially its London part, was great but I miss Hawaii. So to cope with that I’ve been recently wearing Ginger Ciao by Yosh.

 

Yosh Ginger Ciao

 

When I first tried, liked and bought Ginger Ciao six years ago, I didn’t think of it as a tropical perfume. It was a beautiful perfume, which didn’t remind me of any other perfume I wore until then – but other than that I didn’t think about it much. And then Birgit (Olfactoria’s Travels) reviewed Ginger Ciao from the sample I sent her:

Made for warm summer nights, it exudes a tropical vibe that is at once relaxing and exciting.

Birgit has always had huge influence on me, so from that moment Ginger Ciao got its tropical designation and became my number two* Hawaiian vacation perfume. It accompanied me to several trips, and I discovered that it was equally beautiful in the breezy warmth of tropical night and in sunlit heat of lazy Hawaiian day.

Ginger Ciao notes include coconut, night blooming cereus, tiger lily, neroli, ylang ylang, ginger, basil and sandalwood. Coconut is not too sweet, sandalwood is creamy, and all the floral notes sing nicely together with neither of them doing solo. It is one of those perfumes that seems simpler when you think about it remembering than it proves to be when you wear it.

 

Rusty and Yosh Ginger Ciao

 

Recently I got a bit of a scare: there was a huge sale on Yosh perfumes at Hautelook. Combined with brand’s site being down and no new releases in a while, I feared the worst. So without thinking for too long I’ve bought a back-up bottle.

Since then I calmed down and did some research. It seems that many of the online retailers still stock Yosh perfumes, full priced. Yosh Han, the brand’s owner and perfumer, is still active in perfume industry: according to her FB posts, she’s just worked at Pitti Fragranze with INEKE. So who knows: maybe one day soon Yosh releases a new chapter in her brand’s story. But meanwhile I’m happy that I’ve got an extra bottle of perfume that I love. And I’m glad to report that perfume from the new bottle smells identical to what is left in my 6 years old bottle. So, for the next 6 years I’m covered for my future trips to Hawaii (I hope) or for surviving a lack thereof.

 

Rusty and Yosh Ginger Ciao

 

Have you tried Ginger Ciao? Do you have any perfumes that you associate with beach vacation?

 

Images: my own

* Estee Lauder Bronze Goddess is my #1 tropical vacation perfume.

Advertisements
by

Small Things that Brighten Life: Unexpected Thunderstorm

With all those unwelcome atmospheric visitors to several of our states in the last couple of weeks it feels like “naming the halter in the hanged man’s house” but I can’t help feeling great: yesterday we had a real thunderstorm! For those of you who live in “regular” climate areas it is probably nothing but I haven’t personally experienced a full-blown thunderstorm for over a decade.

In Northern California summer is a dry season: from May to October it doesn’t rain. At all. In my many years here, even before the big drought we had recently for four years, I can remember counted occasions when we had some kind of precipitations during those months. A couple of times I saw remote lightnings and heard thunder but it always was somewhere far away. And in winter, when we’re getting our rains (when it is not a drought), it is too cold for thunderstorms.

Yesterday we had tropical rain and a thunderstorm right here.

SF Bay Area Thunderstorm 2017-09-11

As a child I spent my summers at the grandparents’ house. On one hand, heavy rains and thunderstorms usually meant that I had to stay inside, which was a little boring since I couldn’t run outside with friends the whole day, eat fruit from the trees and do other fun stuff kids do during a summer break. On the other hand, rainy weather meant that I could sleep as long as I wanted without disproving glances and comments from my Grandma; I could read a book the whole day not listening to suggestions to go outside; and I didn’t have to do anything to help in the garden. And after the rain was over, I could put on rain boots and conquer the deepest puddle on the unpaved street, on which my grandparents lived. Since I used to spend there at least two months every summer, a couple of rainy days from time to time weren’t something to be upset about but rather to look forward to.

So yesterday I was enjoying that unexpected rain – for the rain itself, for the memories it brought and for the wonderful smell… Did you notice that summer rain smells not the same way a cold rain does? I was thinking about that scent: I wouldn’t want to smell like that myself, it is not what I would consider a pleasant personal scent but I would love to be able to recreate it as an ambiance aroma.

I have to mention that not everyone in our household was happy yesterday: Rusty was terrified by thunder, and while I was enjoying the weather on the balcony trying to capture a lighting on my phone camera*, he was trying to figure out the best place to hide. And for the rest of the evening any sudden move or unexpected noise would startle him and make his pupils dilated:

Rusty Scared

Today the rain is gone and forgotten. It’s summer again. And Rusty is peacefully sleeping next to me on a chair.

 

Images: my own

*It took be about 5 minutes to come to the realization that the combined my and my camera’s response time weren’t enough to capture a still photo of a lightning; then I switch to iPhone’s “Live” mode – and it worked perfectly.

by

Second Sunday Samples: Grossmith Diamond Jubilee Bouquet and Amouage Blossom Love

Grossmith is another brand, with which I wasn’t familiar other than knowing the name. I’m not sure how I feel about old houses resurrection: usually the “nose” is different, old perfumes – even if the formulas survived – cannot be recreated exactly as they were because of the new regulations, and the packaging is also new. So, I’m not sure what exactly is being restored other than the name. Since this brand re-appeared recently, it hasn’t been represented widely in the U.S., and I probably wouldn’t have tested it if it weren’t for my trial subscription to ScentTrunk a couple of years ago.

Diamond Jubilee Bouquet starts with a very prominent iris, not carrot-y but rather powdery. In about 10 minutes iris gets weaker, and I get distinct carnation note. After that for hours it is just a really creamy and muted floral bouquet (which is quite fitting given the name) plus musk and maybe vanilla. The complete list – just in case you’re curious, and your nose is better than my: narcissus, lily-of-the-valley, citruses, carnation, iris, jasmine, rose, violet, vetiver, musk, amber, tonka bean, vanilla and hawthorn.

Diamond Jubilee Bouquet is very charming and pleasant. It is not perfume to fall in love with but I can hardly imagine anybody disliking it. As you can also get from the name, Grossmith created that perfume in 2012 to commemorate the event. “Limited Edition of 500 – available in UK only” was proudly stated on the brand’s site and repeated (without the “UK” part) on sites of several online stores that still carry the remaining stock of those “limited 500.” So either Grossmith keeps producing that “limited” perfume or they are still selling the five-year-old stock. It is not a bad perfume but I think it is just too expensive for what it is – a nice quiet office-friendly scent.

Rusty and Amouage Blossom Love and Grossmith Diamond Jubilee Bouquet

There is nothing subdued about the second perfume I tested. Amouage Blossom Love is bright and loud. If I weren’t looking at the sample, I would have never been able to recognize it as Amouage perfume. It is not a scent of a blossom. It is neither airy enough for the light spring floral scent nor opulent enough for Amouage fame. Blossom Love is very straightforward, simple and artificial, which isn’t surprising when you look at the list of notes: cherry blossom nectar, rose liquor, ylang ylang, Amaretto accord, vanilla, tonka bean, cashmeran.

I know that tastes differ a lot but I find nauseating everything about this perfume: from the stupid pink bottle to the sickly sweet and boozy scent to Christopher Chong’s description of it:

Blossom Love is inspired by the sassy nature and loyal heart of the vivacious modern woman. She defies conventions as she unabashedly lives for love, romance and new adventure

Can you imagine reading something like that but with the word “man” used instead? Ughh!

I hate the fact that, instead of setting the bar high(er) for the industry and consumers, a great brand starts catering to the lowest denominator. And I just can’t believe that at $360 for 100 ml Amouage could not afford better ingredients or a perfumer who doesn’t produce more than one (mostly middle-tier mainstream) perfume per month.

Rusty in the backyard

As you might have already guessed, this Amouage won’t be joining my collection – even though I suspect it’ll be available at a heavy discount soon. But for those of you in the U.S. who would like to try it or do not share my impression of the scent and want to wear it for a while, I would suggest checking it on the ScentBird site: for $14.95 (that includes S&H) you can get a 8 ml decant of Blossom Love (and some other recent Amouage scents). If you used to be a subscriber, login to your old account, and they’ll offer you to re-subscribe at a discount (you can unsubscribe at any time). If you have never subscribed to their service, you can use this link, and both you and I will get the second month free subscription, which means that for $14.95 you can get 2 x 8 ml of Amouage perfumes (there are some other nice options there now – that’s why I re-subscribed a couple of days ago).

 

Images: my own

by

Back to School: Dress Code

Living in the U.S. for the last… many years I gradually got used to the fact that kids go back to school from early August to mid-September. And still, every year on the September 1st, I think of it as of the back to school day because for the first 22 years of my life (well, technically 15 – since we would start school at 7) it was the day when all schools and all other full-time educational institutions would start their new school year.

September 1st

Because of that date that imprinted in my mind probably forever, I got an urge to post something related to it. Last week there was a community project for back to school perfumes – whatever association you’ve got with that idea. My answer was Serge Lutens De Profundis, but since I’ve previously told that story, as I was reading other commenters’ interpretations, I kept comparing their ideas with my memories.

The responses were quite interesting, people had many connections:

  • Perfumes, associated with places – Library (CB I Hate Perfume In the Library); trees in the park surrounding the school (Ormonde Jayne Woman), campus in the forest (Annick Goutal Nuit Etoilee) – my school was in the downtown, and whatever the smell was, it’s not something you want to recreate with your perfume.
  • Perfumes with the smell of pencil shavings – Serge Lutens Santal Blanc and Chene, Berdoues Arz el-rab – though I’ve sharpen my share of pencils while at school, I have absolutely no recollection as to how those smelled.
  • Perfumes with apple note – Hermes Sous le Toit de Paris and Nobile 1942 La Danza delle Libellule – I didn’t know “an apple for the teacher” saying until I moved to the U.S. long after my school years, so it is not my association as well.
  • One-off clever associations “Fracas – for the fracas that the first week of school tends to be” and “going Old School” with vintage Diorella – can’t say anything about Fracas, and did previously cover school years, Diorella and my first love.
  • Perfumes that people wore during their school years – too many to list what others wore, and since for the first 20 years of my life I was in almost monogamous relationships with Lancôme Climat, this perfume is not associated for me with starting school. Besides, I wrote about it multiple times before.

And then I read something I could relate to. I don’t remember what perfume it was but the association was: new perfume in the wearer’s perfume wardrobe (connection – new clothes for the new school year). And it suddenly resonated with my memories.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

In my school years we wore uniforms. It was the same type of uniform for all schools in the country: brown dresses with black aprons (or white aprons for dress-up occasions) for girls and navy suits for boys. They were slightly different from city to city but you wouldn’t confuse it with anything else, you could tell it was a school uniform. But even though those uniforms weren’t too exciting, every year before the start of the school year I had a surge of excitement while getting a new dress and aprons.

Once I started thinking about school and clothes, my immediate association was Guerlain Habit Rouge Dress Code.

It wasn’t like that everywhere, but my school had a very strict dress code: we weren’t allowed to wear anything but those dresses and black aprons – no extra sweaters or cardigans, no colored leggings or tights, no jewelry. Of course, we weren’t allowed any make-up. How about perfumes? To tell the truth, I have no idea. Most likely not, but I don’t think anybody would think of doing it: perfumes were scarce commodity, not for the everyday use. I don’t think even teachers wore any perfumes to work.

It is not that I think that Habit Rouge Dress Code would go well with school uniform: in my opinion, it’s a more mature perfume; and probably I wouldn’t have even liked it at that age. Also, it is far too unisex for the times when I wore that uniform. But I like Gurlein’s Dress Code today and feel excited about wearing it more often than just in the beginning of a school year.

For the real review, if you haven’t tried Habit Rouge Dress Code by now and are curious about what you’ve missed, read Kafka’s review. I just want to say that I think it’s a pity that Guerlain decided to produce it as a limited edition.

Guerlain Habit Rouge Dress Code

I have many questions today. Did you have to wear a uniform to school? What was it? Were you allowed to wear perfumes? Did you? Do you have any association for back-to-school and perfumes? (I promise not to fail you if you do not answer them all)

by

Bespoke Perfumes, Who Needs Them?

From time to time I start thinking about bespoke perfumes. Not in terms that I consider ordering one for myself but in general, as of the idea itself.

If you were to do a search online for “bespoke perfume,” you’d find dozens of articles about that type of service, as well as offers of the said services. The prices start from $250 for a 50 ml bottle and goes all the way up to “contact for the price” (or 200K pounds mentioned in one of the articles – not sure how figurative was that figure).

Why wouldn’t I want to have perfume made just for me? Let’s look at it step by step. Since it is a theoretical exercise, I’ll assume that anything is possible.

Perfumer

I think it would be strange to have your perfume created by some random perfumer with whose work you are not familiar: while we can keep the discussion going whether perfume is art or not, it is definitely not pure science; and, in my opinion, not everyone can just learn how to mix ingredients and start creating amazing perfumes.

I ran a query in my database and figured out, which five perfumers created the most perfumes that I love.

 

Christine Nagel. Most of my favorites from her are her work for Jo Malone. As much as I like perfumes from that brand, do I really want my bespoke perfume to be of that “easy-wear-office-friendly” type?

Christopher Sheldrake. All Serge Lutens perfumes that I like and wear have been created by Sheldrake. But most of Serge Lutens perfumes that I do not like, were also created by him.

Bertrand Duchaufour. I like and wear many perfumes by this talented perfumer, and now when the daughter of the bloody dictator, for whom he created perfume 5 years ago (if you’ve somehow missed the story, look the Leftovers part of this post) is arrested, I probably wouldn’t mind him to be a creator of my bespoke perfume. But would he even have time? The man authors approximately one perfume per month.

Geza Schoen (presuming he actually is the nose behind all Ormonde Jayne perfumes). Until the brand decided to become a luxury one, they were one of my absolute favorites: I love or at least like 7-8 of their perfumes. But I’m not sure I would be able to pry a vat of Iso E-Super from him, no matter how much I pay.

Jean-Claude Ellena. I just don’t know if he still has any Dia left in him. And everything else is a little too sheer for my current taste: I like wearing many of his perfumes as my day-wear perfumes but none of them would be on a short list for a proverbial signature scent (or bespoke perfume, while we’re on the topic).

Notes

But let’s say I settled on the Perfumer. How do I know what I want to get? Clearly, I should shoot for the most beautiful perfume I do not have in my collection already. So of course I can show the Perfumer my most recent exercise with the Desert Island Perfumes and provide a list of my 13 favorite notes: linden, amber, lavender, iris, black currant, rose, mimosa, lily of the valley, narcissus, galbanum, sandalwood, cedarwood and vetiver. But how do I know that actually these thirteen notes make me like perfume? As my analysis in that post showed, the highest count of those favorite notes (8 of 13) make up my favorite Chanel No 19 – but I already have Chanel No 19, and I don’t need another one. And how do I know that it is not the combination of the other 76 notes, which composed my Top 20, that do the trick?

My Favorite Notes

Process

Assuming the Perfumer got all the information both from the notes I think I like and based on the list of perfumes I know I like, after a while we’ll have the first take – and what? How many times have you tried perfumes that sounded amazing based on what you read about them only to be completely disappointed? It is not easy to write a negative review for perfumes created by the brand or perfumer with whom you have some type of relationship or even just like them without knowing them personally. Also, have you ever experienced personally or witnessed any perfumer’s reaction to somebody criticizing their work?

I’m not sure I would be able to say: “Scratch that, let’s start over.” Instead, most likely, there would be polite going back-and-forth with: “It seems a little too sweet…”, “What if we were to add more floral notes?” or “It reminds me X, which I already love and wear.” How many iterations would I go through before giving up and agreeing to something that is very nice but doesn’t come even close to how I feel about my most beloved perfumes? What if it is not even “very nice”?

Price

For my theoretical experiment I’m going with the assumption that I can pay any price. But what is the price? What the price should be?

ScentTrunk, which keeps searching for the business model for making money from the exploding perfume industry, offers a free test kit that “includes a palette of the 6 fragrance families so our lab can identify the smells you love or hate” (you pay $4.95 for S&H). After that you can get your personalized perfume for just $11.95/month. I think we can all agree that I will skip the discussion of what exactly one might expect to get for the money.

Ok, how about € 220 for 50 ml of all-natural perfume “by Perfumer Composer AbdusSalaam Attar”? You can choose up to 7 (out of 92) essences for your perfume. If you want something “rare,” you’ll need to pay more: extra € 100 for ambergris, € 150 for Mysore sandalwood, € 250 for iris root and € 300 for agarwood. But even if you go “all in,” the most you pay is € 1,020. And you can name it whatever you want! So choose 7 ingredients, mention the most important 3, tell your profession or field of work (“important for olfactory psychology”!), add comments, “give your skype for contact ecc…”, prove that you’re not a bot (because, you know, it’s a huge work to put all those 7 notes into the shopping cart; and if you make a mistake, the whole form refreshes – so you should really be into placing that order) – and … I’m not sure what happens next because I didn’t manage to convince the page I wasn’t a “spammer.” But anyway, how personal can you expect it to be for € 220?

$6,750 can buy you three consultations with the team of perfumers at Floris, which will result in 100 ml bottle of your bespoke perfume (plus 5 future refills).

Even though By Kilian’s site states “Price upon request” on their Bespoke Perfume by Kilian page, from my recent visit to Salon de Parfums in Harrods I can surmise that it won’t be less than £15,000 – because that is how much their “one-of-a-kind” Midnight in London that Tara and I tested there costs.

By Kilian Midnight In London

I heard different numbers for bespoke perfumes by Roja Dove but the closest one to the official price was £25,000, which was mentioned a year ago in the article-interview with Mr. Dove. If you ask me, his semi-bespoke perfumes rumored at £1,000 for 250 ml, is a better deal: you can try it and decide if you like it, if it is unique enough before you commit.

As I mentioned in the beginning of the post, you can find dozens of brands, perfumers and no-name services that offer customized/custom/bespoke perfumes on the wide range of prices. But, in my opinion, even the highest price I cited here is not enough to pay for real creativity and uniqueness. I just do not believe that any great and talented perfumer would create something really great just for me – one person.

Why would the Perfumer spend enough time and effort to earn even £25,000, if selling it to a brand or launching it under their name would get a much better return? The explanation I could come up with was that it might make sense only if the result is not expected to be anything too special. For example, if it is done for “civilians” – people who have previously used Perfume de Jour from department stores: almost any average-pleasant perfume made from good ingredients by somebody who knows the trade would be a definite step up. It also can work for people who do not love perfumes but want to wear them because it is a part of the accepted routine. In this case, exclusivity and personal service might be much more important than actual perfume. In both cases it shouldn’t require too much time or magic from a skillful Perfumer. And those “bespoke” perfumes do not even have to be that unique from one customer to another – they just have to be different enough from what one can come across at regular perfume counters.

I have it. Now what?

But even if I manage to get the result I really like, what would I do with it? Should this perfume become my signature scent? Probably not: I’m not a one perfume woman. Should I treat it as a special occasion perfume? But then what should I do with my other special occasion perfumes? I’m not sure I have enough special occasions. Do I wear it just like any other perfume in my collection, several times per year? But then why even go through the exercise of creating bespoke perfume?

So even in my imaginary world, in which I can choose any perfumer to work on my scent and am not limited by any financial considerations, going through with that project does not seem appealing.

And then one last thought had occurred to me: I bet I can wear many of the existing perfumes in my current collection, and, almost any way you look at it, those would be not much farther from a bespoke perfume then any created as such might be.

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Images: my own

by

Small (?) Things that Brighten (?) Life

It has been a while since I published the last post in this series. Back then the topic was holiday lights that had brighten my life in all senses, including literally. Today’s post is kind of the opposite.

As we suspected it would be, this morning we woke up to an overcast morning not looking promising for the impending solar eclipse. As I looked at the sky before driving to work, I couldn’t see anything but grey clouds. I thought about how it should be disappointing to all those who had planned on watching the eclipse, started my car and called a friend to discuss the mischance.

I: What are you doing?
F: Watching the eclipse.
I: Where?!!
F: … On my backyard…
I: I mean, how?
F: (for the next 30 seconds my friend was explaining to me the physics of looking at Sun through a tiny hole in some device)
I: I mean, where do you see the sun? It’s cloudy here (our houses are about 5 miles part)
F: It comes and goes.

At this point I noticed that clouds parted a little, and there it was – a small sliver of sun.

I: I see it! Wait, I should take a picture…

As I parked along the road, rolled (wound – for my British friends) down the window and started taking pictures, my friend was explaining to me how it was impossible to do it without special black lens…

Solar Eclipse August 24 2017 SF Bay Area

It’s hard to call sun a “small thing,” a solar eclipse is hardly something that is associated with illuminating things, and I’m sure that there are thousands of better pictures taken of this event. But for the rest of the day I kept proudly showing my “impossible picture” to friends and colleagues. And it did make my day brighter.

 

Image: my own

by

Second Sunday Samples: Penhaligon’s Endymion and Savoy Steam

Most of my posts on this blog are stories related to perfumes. As I keep telling brands that offer me perfumes for reviews, even if I like perfume, I might never write about it if it doesn’t have a story to tell. Usually that does the trick – they do not send samples, I do not feel guilty not writing anything about those perfumes. But I spend a lot of time testing samples that I get either from stores or from fellow perfumistas. So I decided that once a month – the second Sunday – I will do a small feature, Second Sunday Samples, in which I’ll be sharing just short impressions of perfumes I tested.

Until a couple of years ago, Penhaligon’s was a brand, about which I knew and some perfumes from which I tested but at that time there were just a couple of not too accessible stores. But then Penhaligon’s moved into my area with several boutiques. And since they are new players on the local market, they are still in the phase of being not too close-fisted with the samples.

Penhaligon's Savoy Steam and Endymion Samples

I was curious to try Savoy Steam because of Cynthia’s (The Fragrant Journey) review of this perfume. She made it sound so appealing that the SA at Penhaligon’s saw right away that I needed that sample.

Savoy Steam has just been released. I tried the EdP concentration. From what I read, the EdC version is quite different – so make sure to try both. EdP is spicy and warm. I know that there’s citrus in it but it’s lost on my nose. I can smell rose and geranium but the rest of the notes I cannot identify (according to Fragrantica, top notes are bergamot, lemon, eucalyptus, mint, pink pepper and rosemary; middle notes are rose, geranium, cardamom, hedione and tea; base notes are benzoin, incense, vanilla and white musk). Savoy Steam stays right on the border where a proper gentleman might still wear it without feeling conscious that it’s too sweet, too feminine. But for me it is too sweet without being feminine enough. Also, I don’t know why but I keep calling it in my head Savoy Cream – not the kind you eat but the one you shave with. I like it the most in about 2 hours after the application but, in general, it is not perfume I would consider wearing.

I knew nothing about Endymion released in 2003 until it almost jumped at me yesterday. I mean, it was the last sample in the sample basket in front of the Penhaligon’s store – how could I pass by?

Endymion for me smells like a classic masculine perfume, which is not surprising with notes of lavender, sage, geranium and vetiver (other notes are mandarin orange, bergamot, coffee, leather, musk, myrhh, nutmeg, black pepper, cardamon, sandalwood, incense and olibanum). I do not smell any leather – at least not the kind you expect nowadays when you read “leather” as a note. Coffee? Not either. It is beautiful, elegant and well-blended perfume. There is nothing “unisex” about it; and it is probably not perfume I would consider wearing myself but I would love to smell it on a man.

Rusty and Penhaligon's Savoy Steam and Endymion Samples

Images: my own