I’m having a busy week. We have very close friends staying with us, it’s seed planting time, and there’s work. So today I’m recycling on the blog. Climate change and all that.

In January, a journalist contacted perfumeposse wanting some copy for an article to be published in the Spring / Summer edition of GQStyle, on scents and masculinity. As butchness personified, I leapt at the chance. And so, apparently little ole me is quoted alongside perfume legends such as James Craven of Les Senteurs. What follows is the copy I sent to the journalist – I’ve yet to see how much made it into the final version.

“1) Do you think it’s scent/ingredients or preconceptions that makes a fragrance masculine?

I think it’s both. First of all, there are ingredients, generally in specific combinations, that work as markers of masculinity, because they have been pretty ubiquitously used that way. Vetiver and tobacco for instance, in Guerlain’s eponymous scent. Or at least they have been in a certain time period. Therefore we come to think of them as masculine. The classic ‘masculine’ scent is the fougere, a somewhat catch all category that generally includes notes like lavender, bergamot, oak moss and coumarin. They generally have a barbershoppy buzz, without too much bright citrus stuff going on. A great recent example is Narciso Rodriguez – archetypal man juice. But, but, but, what is typically male varies historically and geographically. So, sniff Dior’s Eau Sauvage or Hermes’ Equipage, and you’re getting a vision of bourgeois masculinity in the 60/70s; shift to the late 70s and early 80s and Drakkar Noir, Paco Rabanne, Quorum and Azarro seem like stereotypes of the time – all hair and medallions, or shoulder pads and kipper ties. In contrast, the 90s (remember ecru? Sheesh) was washed out minimalist new man – overdoses of calone in Aramis’ New West led to an explosion of aquatic scents, and the unfortunate rise of Hugo Boss as a power player in men’s fragrances with its bland blap. Meanwhile, in other parts of the world, men are wearing jasmine and rose, much as they always have done (and as they did here in the nineteenth century). And, at the same time as all this is going on, there are always perfumes worn by men that are resolutely idiosyncratic and buck the most obvious trends.

So, that’s a pretty roundabout way of saying that there’s a complex web of stuff going on in the construction of scents – there are trends that emerge through the creation or extraction of synthetics (calone, coumarin – and perhaps an iris synthetic in Dior Homme) that become markers of masculinity in certain time periods; there are accords that seem more solidly masculine for longer periods (such as in fougeres), and then there are scents which don’t easily fit in to the trends of the time. Like Dior’s Fahrenheit – creosote and honeysuckle – 1988. You know the real reason why I think so many men’s scents go with the flow and fit with the mainstream trend rather than doing a Fahrenheit? The teams who commission them don’t want to take risks, have tiny budgets for perfume development (most goes on the campaigns) meaning the perfumers can only go for cheap ingredients, choose the safest mods from the perfumers and water down any quirks or edges in those. So we end up sniffing the same thing, altered a little bit, time and again, in the men’s section. But hey, it’s what the consumer wants – they’ve used focus groups and everything!

There is some evidence of change occurring though, but that’s probably question 2.

2) In men’s perfumery, the 80s as you mentioned were characterised powerhouse scents, the nineties all those ozonic/water scents etc, and I’m wondering if you are noticing a new masculinity appearing with today’s men’s fragrances? If so, how would you sum it up and how does it differ from previously?

I think to some extent it’s more of the same. Though the extremes of the aquatic movement are disappearing, it’s still very much there. Acqua di Gio shows no sign of diminishing in popularity. Interestingly though, younger scent wearers seem drawn to sweeter, occasionally more gourmand fragrances, just as younger women are. It’s where the impact of Mugler’s ethyl maltol rich Angel meets the 90s citruses. And it’s the influence of JPG’s Le Male, a scent, that whilst not a favourite of mine, bucked the watery lemon mode of much of the 90s. So Paco Rabanne’s Black XS has a surprisingly fruity sweet accord, yet it’s marked out by the throaty rasp of some masculine aromachemicals – the only things really that indicate masculinity. Likewise with Clinique’s Happy, which could be entirely unisex if it weren’t for the same hint of growl.

More interestingly, there’s a fairly recent exploration of softer scents for men in mainstream releases (I’m not going to go on here about niche scents which are generally not targeted by gender, and have been doing all this stuff for a while longer) – so JPG’s Fleurs de Male and Dior’s Fahrenheit 32 are both milky orange blossom scents, although clearly screaming ‘I’m synthetic’ rather than ‘I’m a natural flower child, gender neutral’. For me, the most exciting is Dior Homme, though I think this might be a one-off rather than a trend (cf. Fahrenheit). It blends a bergamotty opening onto a wonderful synthetic iris and uses gourmand notes with subtlety and flair. Wonderful work by Oliver Polge. Where masculines go will very much depend on how much perfumers voices are heard, rather than those of designers – Hedi Slimane seems to have given a lot more creative freedom to Polge than most designers do. And that’s why we get something that breaks the mill the others continue to run on.

Get back to me on this one if I haven’t answered your question!

3) What are your favourite men’s fragrances? (You can be as personal or objective here as you like!)

Can I give you some favourites by time period?

Favourite early men’s scent – Jicky by Guerlain (1889). Named after Guerlain’s nephew, not an Englishwoman as Guerlain the company would lead you to believe. Go for the parfum de toilette if you can find it. Startlingly contemporary with a gasp-inducing use of animal notes which make this scent hover between the cleanliness of citrus and lavender and the dirtiness of your dark desires…
Chanel pour Monsieur 1955 (perfumerHenri Robert) – suited elegance, bottled.
Eau Sauvage by Dior 1956 (perfumer Edmond Roudnitska)- a wonderful citrus accord balanced against the use of hedione, a synthetic jasmine note. Classically male, yet pretty similar to his women’s Diorissimo.

Favourites from the 70s, 80s, 90s:
Jules by Dior (1980) – thrusting virility done right. It may smell a little dated, but this leathery rich beast is somehow mellow and understated rather than in-your-face. But don’t over-apply!
Fahrenheit (1988) – a unique scent that you’ll always remember once you’ve smelled it. Sublime.
Lolita Lempicka au Masculin 2000 perfumer Annick Menardo A chilly but sweet gourmand scent that moves from aniseed to more familiar woody territory as it dries down.
Terre d’Hermes 2006 perfumer Jean Claude Ellena – cedar, vetiver and grapefruit alongside some strange mineral accord – a contemporary classic. Perfumeposse writer Patty calls it crack in a bottle.
Dior Homme 2005 perfumer Oliver Polge – 21st century elegance. Some men say it smells like the inside of a handbag, but that might be why women love it on men…
Oh, and just one niche – Le Labo Patchouli 24 (available in Liberty) by perfumer Annick Menardo – smells like someones baking a vanilla cake in a car mechanic’s garage whilst a bonfire’s fumes are blowing in through the open window. Awesome stuff.”

Now, share with us your favourite men’s designer scents. Let’s have a range of options up for us all to choose from…

Lee

Other than some continuing laryngitis – may I say that I really love the huskiness of my voice right now as long as I stay in the low registers, don’t try to raise my voice and squeak, which really spoils the sex kitten voice vibe I’d like to have - I´m slowly returning to some semblance of health that includes a hacking cough from time to time and still diminished lung capacity - but improving! Well… that was sure fun.

My nose is working properly again, and it´s time to look at a couple of new things. Indult C16 is a new release, available only at Colette in Paris for about $250 for 50 mls, plus shipping. Created by Francis Kurkdjian, It is meant to evoke the smell of Tonkin musk. I´m assuming this is not the real deal, but a chemical recreation. It strikes me on first sniff as one that you will either hate (my sister´s reaction), love as a close skin scent, but not particularly groundbreaking (my reaction) or possibly love as the best musk ever (I don´t have a third tester here, but can see someone feeling this way). It is musk, and it appears that there may be some anosmic elements at play. On me, I don´t get any bad smell at all, like my sister gets, just this very soft skin-hugging musk that´s my skin but better. I think it´s wonderful, but given the varying reaction so far, I´m afraid I´m not smelling all of it and if I wear it out, I might be shunned – so I need more people to tell me what they smell because it seems to be either a direct hit or a direct miss. YNMV. If you love musk, it´s likely worth a try. It is limited to 213 bottles at Colette, though once you buy a bottle, you can get refills for, I guess, forever.

Comme des Garcons Hinoki has notes of Cypress, turpentine, camphor, cedar, thyme, pine, Georgian wood, frankincense, moss and vetiver. This goes on ultra-woody and with the tang of the turpentine and camphor buzzing through your nose like a mentholated bullet. CdG´s incense series has long been a big favorite of mine, and I admire each of them for how they are different from the other, but hanging together as incense through and through. Hinoki feels like a piece of that set, focusing very much on the woody side of incense, but with a rich loaminess overlaying it, like a moss-covered tree. It never loses that tang throughout the drydown, though it does settle down the longer it is on. Even though it´s not officially part of the incense series, I think it belongs there and is a good addition, not like any of the other five, though touching on several of them.

In celebration of my slow return to health, let´s do a drawing for a sample of each of these. Just drop a comment, and I´ll draw a winner or two next week.

Patty

When I read on Now Smell This about Australian niche house Tommi Sooni´s fragrance debut – a chypre called Tarantella, targeted at women age 25+ and inspired by a walled garden in Avignon full of native plants from Sicily – I was thrilled. It sounded like a far cry from most of the new batch of releases here in the U.S., and I´m a sucker for a classic-style perfume. So I emailed and asked for a sample of the fragrance, named after the Sicilian dance. The only remaining question being: was it any good?

The notes for Tarantella are neroli, galbanum, aldehydes, Sicilian mandarin, muguet, orris, rose, frangipani, Egyptian jasmine, clove, laurel, honey, leather, amber, oakmoss, sandalwood.

Looking at that list gives you an idea of the classic form of the fragrance, and while it is sensual, it’s a spill of ruffles more in the direction of Balenciaga Le Dix than something more dark (Jolie Madame) or imposing (Diorella). The galbanum and muguet give Tarantella a cool, green opening, and I find the aldehydes to be extremely moderated, so if you don´t love them, you don´t have much to fear here.

Reviewing the company´s marketing materials, I was worried the green notes and the “Sicilian flora” were going to translate into a sharp, herbaceous opening popular in some green chypres, the sort you get with bergamot, clary sage and/or a lot of citrus (and here´s lookin´ at you, Aromatics Elixir and Ma Griffe). Even from the opening, the rose, frangipani and jasmine set the tone with a playful, sensual sweetness. I admire Aromatics Elixir and Ma Griffe rather than enjoy them, so I was happy. The spice notes appear after a few minutes, the aldehydes fade and the green notes become more muted but still present, and at that point, 15 or 20 minutes in, the fragrance reaches a balance between its elements of green, floral, and chypre. The leather is soft and cured rather than bitter, and its arrival is quiet. It´s a smooth fragrance, and over the course of the next several hours it fades as a whole, rather than leaving me with just the base notes.

There´s nothing “light” about Tarantella, but it has a youthful charm. It adheres to a classic type while possessing a modern, unfussy feel. I think it´s lovely, a fragrance that would fit in with, say, the Teo Cabanel line. If you like your chypre on the soft, pretty side (more Molinard, less Sisley), this would be a fine one to try.

Tarantella is an EDP ($165 Australian) available from Peony Melbourne. I got a sample by emailing Tommi Sooni here.

Dancing the tarantella: virtualitalia.com; Tommi Sooni Tarantella, tommisooni.com

And furthermore …. Allure does it again! The current issue with Mariah Carey on the cover (and Mariah, call your lawyers, because that photo is terrible) has an excerpt from the eagerly anticipated Perfumes: The Guide by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez, with a taste of the reviews (quick — what’s the relationship between Tommy Girl and Mariage Freres?), and an article with Sophia Grojsman telling us how to apply fragrance, and a short on berry-note perfumes that manages to cover Teo Cabanel’s stellar Julia. There must be somebody over there who’s really interested in fragrance.

March

As promised, y’all get to participate in my eyelash extension session from Thursday.

Background — I am fair complected, blonde hair, and my eyelashes are almost blonde as well. Not blonde enough that they stand out a little, but just enough that they fade right into my eyeline, so nothing frames my eyes.  Compound that with having lashes to curl down below the line of the eye.  For me to even appear to have eyes with a nice little eyelash fringy frame, it requires about three coats of mascara, much curling, some conditioner, and even then… did I mention my eyelashes are really fine?  Yes, mascara does not like to stick, so it starts peeling off midway through the day.  Disheartening.  I actually have pretty great eyes other than that –  it’s one of my favorite features.  The lack of eyelashes without slathering on a lot of chemical goo suuuuucks. 

 For some idea of what my lashes look like, go here and look at the before and after pictures eight down from the top.  Not me, but that’s pretty close to my befores and afters.  I would take snaps, but I’ve had acute bronchitis all week, and even with pretty lashes, I am not looking very spiffy yet.  BTW, my doc did concoct me a killer phenergan/codeine cough syrup that is knocking me out a little at night so I’m getting just a tidge of sleep– blessedly.  I thought I was going to have to cancel my appointment this morning or give it to my sister (she was gleeful) because of my nonstop coughing, but my Lung-shushing Elixir worked its magic, and I made it through the two hours without hacking my lungs up.

I had heard about eyelash extensions from my hair stylist since they do it at her salon, thought it sounded pretty nifty, but just never seriously considered doing it until recently.  Two reasons finally made me fork over the $250 to get them done – 1) with my fair complexion, mascaras just wind up looking harsh on my mildly aging face, and 2) I really pretty much hate wearing mascara, always have and wind up going without most of the time and looking like I have no eyes. 

Lisa went over the process, what to expect, how long it would take, we decided to do a mix of black and brown lashes because I was afraid all black may be too harsh, but I wanted enough color that they would pop up.  She got me all settled down on her table, put some cooling doohickeys under my eyes, some tape to pull my eyelids up a little, and my eyes stayed closed the entire time.  She went back and forth from eye to eye putting on one lash at a time.  It’s a tedious process, and it will take a couple of hours for a full set (you can’t do your bottom lashes, nothing to grab on to.  How full/long/thick you can go depends on your natural lashes.  They have to have enough structure to support the extension.  So if you have really thin, fine lashes, don’t expect to get glam lashes. 

Just having someone working on your eye like that can be irritating. My eyes are a little sensitive to begin with, and they are still sick, so while they aren’t all red and irritated now, they do feel a bit mishish – getting better as the day goes on.

They are perfect, not too much, not over the top like false eyelashes can be, you can’t tell they are extensions; my eyes get a nice frame that they deserve, no mascara necessary. The upkeep?  Well, you have to go get a refill once every three weeks, which runs 50-65 normally, depending on how many lashes you want added back in.

It is a spendy procedure, and for people with dark lashes or no aversion to mascara, I wouldn’t recommend it just on the cost factor. If you have fine lashes, hard to see, and you hate mascara or it doesn’t stick to your lashes long and your budget can handle it, I think it’s a great way  to look great right out of bed in the morning.

Next time… I’m thinking maybe a little color, like a dark eggplant or navy blue, which is softer on the eyes.

Patty