While I drum my fingers waiting for my Boxooooooses and the new Amouage Memoir, I pawed through my sample drawer to look at new releases and flankers that seemed interesting or should be interesting that I’ve ignored the last few months.

Estee Lauder Sensuous  Noir – flanker. Estee Lauder is like the High Priestess of flankers. They flank their flankers.  At some point, it’s like a olfactory nesting game. Flankers tend to make me yawn, with the exception a few, like J’Adore Absolu from Dior, which I think is just gorgeous and perfect for a mainstream scent. It makes J’Adore better without too much departure from the original.  So while not a fan of flankers, they do seem more honest than just making a similar perfume and slapping a new name on it, which happens still, but happened a lot more frequently before flanking started.

Estee Lauder’s Sensuous was a scent that I liked quite well, which led me to believe that I may like this noir’ish flanker, composed of notes of purple rose, jasmine, black pepper, melted woods nature print, creme noir accord, patchouli prisma, spiced lily, benzoin, vanilla, honey and amber.  They should have called it Sensuous Dessert instead of Noir.  Noir for me implies a darkness, less peppiness, some darker tonality.  Instead Sensuous Noir gives us a more sweet and gourmand version of Sensuous.  Huge disappointment for me – a darker Sensuous could have been great. Nothing really wrong with Sensuous Noir, but as a flanker, it doesn’t feel like an  improvement on the original, nor does it feel like it embraces the added word onto its name.  Poor little flanker. Having said that, I think it will sell really well for EL because the name and the sweetness will appeal to a demographic that the original didn’t.  Maybe they’re just smarter than I am?  Well, of course!

Chanel’s advance marketing hype for its new men’s scent, Bleu de Chanel was  nonexistent. I saw it featured on their website like a week before it was released – though it seems that there’s a big marketing blitz coming with Martin Scorcese now, so maybe there are just two marketing avenues at work:  the big buildup for the niche fragrances that get plenty of advance copy (the stuff we drool over) and the marketing avenue that is straight for the masses when the scent is released, centered much more around media hype and star personalities (the stuff we tend to not drool over, but sniff dismissively about).  Octavian notes that there was another cologne of this name in the ’30s.  I’ve never smelled the original, but I can’t imagine they bear any resemblance to each other beyond they are fragrance.  This one is all modern sporty fresh perfumery.  I do realize in saying that, most of you will read that as the pejorative that I think of it as.  There’s, again, nothing really wrong with this, it is constructed well for what it is, it’s got all the Chanel quality. It’s just more of the same of a whole lot of other stuff that’s been out there for a while. Maybe Chanel hadn’t mined this particular men’s throbbing vein (reference to March’s post from yesterday)?  I thought they had plenty of the sport scents, but maybe not. If not, then I guess it was necessary to put it in the lineup to get that customer.

But shouldn’t there be a rule – one for them and one for us?  They can release some mainstream thing they need to make to try and cover the market they are aiming for, but they have to give us something cool and unique around the same time, like Chanel doing a parfum version of 31 Rue Cambon or Beige.

That was a bust.

Have I mentioned Vero Kern’s EDP versions of her scents?  Wonderful!  I haven’t talked about them because I don’t think you can get them here yet, and I don’t know what the price point is, but I’m pretty excited about them because I love her fragrances, but the price tag on the extraits really takes them out of most people’s budget.  Of course, just in time for this post to come out, Luckyscent’s Fall Scents e-mail comes out with an announcement that her EDPs are there now!  $190 for 50 mls.

Can we talk about my new Droid X instead?  I need a Droid app for my perfumes, so I can catalog the perfumes I like and whether it’s mainstream (I define this by price point more than anything else, though availability is another big factor) or niche or just overpriced dreck in either category.  Because I’m sitting here thinking about a lot of mainstream stuff I do love, like the J’Adore Absolute and Coco Mademoiselle parfum and Sensuous and the Burberrys.  I mean, I never wear the Burberrys, but my niece does, and I always think she smells so great as she drifts by – perfection for young women.  I’d just like to dial up my little app and run through my list of mainstream things I love to give me some hope that there will be more coming, and I will find more to love there, it’s just having to sort through a lot of rocks in my Trick or Treat Bag.

Mainstream of the last 10 years, generally, what’s your favorites?  Do we get more depressed about it because there’s just more mainstream (this seems to have slowed down a bit) and a lot that smells the same, and it’s farther and farther between loves, or has mainstream really gotten that much worse and generic? I keep thinking it’s that much worse and generic, but I’d like to be convinced otherwise if anyone is inclined or up to that task.

Patty

I´m not sure exactly what I was expecting when I sniffed the new Estee Lauder Private Collection Jasmine White Moss, but it wasn´t what came out of the bottle and landed on my arm.  I scuttled home and did some online research, which made things clearer – the scent is (allegedly, I take all this with a grain of salt) an unfinished formula of Estee Lauder herself from the 1980s, completed by granddaughter Aerin – and can´t you just see her huddled there, over the beakers?!?  Anyway, once I had this info, things started to fall into place.

Upon my first sniff of Jasmine White Moss, I thought:  hello, Azuree! (The 1969 original, not the new Soleil one.)  I dug some of that up, but that´s not quite it.   The opening notes of Jasmine White Moss are closer, I think, to the original Chanel Cristalle EDT.

Notes are mandarin, blackcurrant bud, galbanum, bergamot, jasmine sambac, violet, orange flower, orris, ylang-ylang, patchouli, vetiver and white moss mist (a Lauder exclusive) and it’s categorized as a green floral chypre.  If “white moss mist” is the Lauder secret sauce that´s going to replace bad old oakmoss, hey – it´s gorgeous.  Congratulations, chemists hidden behind door number three!

The opening of Jasmine White Moss is astringent and dry, dry, dry, reminding me both of Cristalle and Azuree´s drydown.  Like the other fragrances I´ve named, it makes me think of an elegant woman smoking a cigarette (did Estee smoke?  Coco did.  A lot of their classic scents go great with cigarettes).  Then I dug up my Van Cleef & Arpels First, and while Jasmine White Moss doesn´t have quite the same everything-but-the-kitchen-sink feel to it, I definitely get the same balance between the mossy elements and the sweet ones.  Indeed, a quick check of First reveals many of the same notes as Jasmine White Moss – although, what isn´t in First?  Also, First is spicier and sharper and … wow, people, someone stage an intervention, because First is really growing on me.  First is the sort of big-shouldered 1970´s Statement Fragrance I have admired rather than wanted to wear.  Until now, I guess.  (Six hours later: my goodness, First’s drydown is gorgeous,  it needs its own review.)

Which leads us back to Jasmine White Moss and my ultimate lack of enthusiasm.  As it dries down, I lose most of the moss, galbanum, patch and anything else that would evoke a green chypre. The jasmine (which is very clean), orange flower and ylang dominate the drydown, which is soft and sweet and, I´m afraid, a little tepid for me.  It smells “modern” in that peculiar, safe way mainstream perfumery does – a little spicy, some sweet florals, a slightly sour finish that makes me wonder if their Lauder musk is lurking in there.  It´s also, and this is weird, the teensiest bit edible – orange almond shortbread?

EDIT IN AFTER THIS WAS POSTED, PROMPTED BY COMMENTS:  in theory this should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway — we perfume freaks are clearly the target market for this scent, and I for one am incredibly grateful (and a little surprised) that something this “mature” was even made.  My daughters backed away from me in the car when I waved my arm at them the first time I tried it, which is an excellent sign; why the hell should everything smell like it was made for high school girls?   I hope the thing sells like hotcakes, and fake oakmoss (fauxmoss?) becomes the new pink pepper, although I’m not holding my breath.  Anyway, Estee Lauder — thanks for the pleasant surprise I received when I sprayed it on my arm.

In the end, it´s my head-to-head (arm-to-arm? nose to nose?) comparison to good ol´ Azuree, Cristalle and First that leaves me shrugging my shoulders at Jasmine White Moss.  Whether you tilt your tastes towards aldehydes, galbanum or oakmoss, this particular vein of beloved old-lady fragrances has a signature, and that signature, ladies and gentlemen, is moxie.  It is assertiveness.  It is trouble on the hoof. It is take-no-prisoners, stiletto-heeled attitude.  Starting off smelling like Liquid Danger and then drying down to a cross between Mariah Carey M and a plastic scented My Little Pony reeks mostly of disappointment.  I bet you can get Azuree and/or First online for less than fifty bucks.  Or how about some Norell?  Or the original Private Collection, or Jacomo Silences?  Feel free to name your own additions, but any of these scents have more personality and interest than the Lauder after the first half hour.  It´s not that the Jasmine White Moss is terrible.  It´s just been done, and done better, elsewhere, for less money, in my opinion.   No offense to those of you who’ve found a new love; remember, I really liked Amber Ylang, which most everyone thought was a snooze.

Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss is slated for release in July, but is already at Nordstrom and I assume will pop up at Saks and wherever else they´re selling the other two scents in the Private Collection.

PS Lipstick Freaks — come play on yesterday’s pink lipstick post, In the Pink!

March

I admire Estee Lauder (the woman and the brand) for producing some scents I really like and then not discontinuing them, thank you very much.  My favorites tend to be from their back catalog – the original Azuree, Private Collection, Youth Dew, Cinnabar.  Even if the Lauder department store areas have a nasty habit of hiding these older gems behind the counter, what´s not to love about a company with several fragrances from $35 – $65 (check their website), which in today´s market is essentially free?   I admire rather than like most of the “newer” releases like Beautiful, Pleasures and White Linen.  Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia was beautifully done but not my sort of thing at all.  Sensuous is all right, but I can only really smell it in the lotion, and even the summery Bronze Goddess was more a cheerful rip-off of the smell of tanning oil than a new scent idea, although I bought a bottle.

So I wasn’t anxiously awaiting the new Private Collection Amber Ylang Ylang.  For me, “amber” in a fragrance name is often associated with some viscous, cloying smell that smothers me like the proverbial trapped fly.  The marketing materials say Aerin Lauder “drew inspiration from the luxurious simplicity of her own private world.  The fragrance captures the essence of an enjoyable evening in a warm, inviting room filled with the luxurious textures of wood, velvet and cashmere in browns and golds.”  The words private and intimate are repeated throughout the release.  Notes are bergamot, geranium, golden amber, ylang ylang, Bulgarian rose, honey, incense, vanilla and sandalwood.  (Elsewhere there are references to Ceylon cinnamon that didn´t make it into the main list of notes.)

I´m under the impression Amber Ylang has gotten a somewhat lukewarm reception among perfume nuts, and a first sniff gives me a suspicion why – if you are a fan of their Tuberose Gardenia, surely Amber Ylang is rather mousy by comparison.   Tuberose Gardenia is an elegant, dressy scent that commands a certain amount of attention when it makes its entrance, whereas Amber Ylang is more likely to sneak in quietly through the side door and be sitting in that comfy plush velvet chair over by the fireplace, drink in hand, before you even know it arrived.

And for some of us, this may not be a bad thing; even the most enthusiastic perfume lover can crave the occasional fragrance that doesn´t stalk into the room like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada and hurl its fur at you in a diva-esque fit.  Amber Ylang´s development is linear and unsurprising – the spicy-green pop of geranium and bergamot that fades almost before it’s registered, followed almost immediately by amber and its sidekick, the ghost of Play-Doh, that unique, doughy smell that can pop up for some of us in amber scents like People of the Labyrinths´ Luctor et Emergo (aka POTL) and Anne Pliska.  I can´t detect the rose at all, and the ylang ylang and honey are rich rather than sweet.  The incense (and the cinnamon?) are spicy-resinous, reminiscent of benzoin rather than something more churchy.   There´s a mildly woody phase somewhat reminiscent of Sensuous.  The drydown is a warm amber-woody-spicy vanilla.

Amber Ylang wears close to the skin, but like the softest pima cotton camisole, it´s there snug and warm for the entire day.  I could still smell it faintly on the back of my hand in the morning.   I experimented with wearing it at different strengths – a couple small spritzes vs. drenching myself, and while I enjoyed it even in higher doses, on one afternoon (and on my shirtsleeve) I got quite a bit of Play-Doh, although there was still enough else going on in the scent I really didn´t mind it the way I do in POTL and Anne Pliska.

Amber Ylang is certainly less of a powerhouse than anything like Beautiful or Beyond Paradise.  For all that, it´s pretty.  If Sensuous and Amber Ylang represent any sort of a directional trend by Estee Lauder, I´m all for it.   Amber Ylang may also be the first reasonably amber-laden fragrance I want – amber for those of us for whom a little amber goes a very long way.

Amber Ylang Ylang as a concept is not exactly uncharted territory.   On the other hand, I wore it for several days and there is a restraint and level of sophistication I find interesting.  It´s not gourmand, and it´s not a cupcake scent – I could wear this to a business meeting and not feel like I was smelling girly.  It´s not bitter like Annick Goutal´s Vanille Exquise, but it´s fully adult in the same way.  So.  For those of you who were hopeful of another blockbuster like Tuberose Gardenia – you didn´t get it.  For those of you in the market for a quietly elegant comfort scent that would work all day and into the evening, Amber Ylang Ylang might be worth trying.

image, neimanmarcus.com: 1oz. parfum bottle (pictured) of Amber Ylang, $300.  If you want EdP and a plain cap, I believe it’s $65 for 1oz.

March

By Nava

If there was ever any doubt as to whether the behemoth cosmetics and fragrance companies are paying attention to what´s going on in the world of niche fragrances, Estée Lauder´s latest offering, Sensuous, is absolute proof. They have succeeded in bringing a woody feminine scent to the department store masses.

Off the top of my head, I can think of a bunch of niche scents that I love, that are reminiscent of Sensuous. I´ll get to them a little later on. First, I must say that I am not especially adept at comparing a scent to a feeling, or a scenario, the way Luca Turin and Chandler Burr are so spectacularly capable of doing. What I´m aiming for here is to tie this in with my post from last week, bringing my thoughts together with this fragrance and the massive advertising campaign Lauder will most assuredly inundate us with. So far, Sensuous is exclusive to Bloomingdales, and the ads haven´t reached that in-your-face stage yet.

Speaking of the ads, there is a website, www.sensuousis.com, dedicated to the launch of the fragrance. Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from esteelauder.com alerting me that the scent is now available online at their site. Much of what is on the launch site is now on their company website as well. They´ve certainly done their homework vis-a-vis the advertising: there is a Q&A section with Aerin Lauder, as well as short videos of the spokesmodels, Hilary Rhoda, Carolyn Murphy, Gwyneth Paltrow and Elizabeth Hurley, explaining what “sensuous” means to them. I´m pleased with how this particular bit of the pitch has been constructed; they picked four women to represent different age groups: Rhoda, the twentysomethings, Murphy and Paltrow, the more introspective thirtysomethings, and finally, Hurley as the elder stateswoman in her early forties. Each woman looks absolutely gorgeous in those androgynous white button-down shirts. And, they look womanly – even Rhoda, the youngest, is photographed to portray a maturity that belies her youth. In keeping with their respective age ranges, each woman defines “sensuous” differently as it relates to their particular stage in life. It all sounds very cerebral and intellectual, but I can´t help but be reminded of the scene in the movie “National Lampoon´s Animal House”, when Eric “Otter” Stratton meets up with Dean Wormer´s wife in the supermarket scene where they debate the sensuality of a cucumber. Mrs. Wormer, being older and more experienced, tells Otter, “Vegetables are sensual, people are sensuous.” Later on, we see a drunken Mrs. Wormer show up at the Delta House toga party and have a Mrs. Robinsonesque encounter with Otter. Although, I don´t think Anne Bancroft´s Mrs. Robinson would have ever been as sloppy as Mrs.Wormer.

For her part, Aerin Lauder espouses some very heartfelt sounding thoughts about their newest fragrance offering. She feels that “Women can be sensual at any age,” and how “Each of our models represents a different side of sensuality. Hilary conveys youth while Carolyn´s classic look communicates elegance. As an actress, Gwyneth brings an emotional range to sensuality and Elizabeth portrays confidence and wisdom.” I was intrigued by her inspiration for the ad campaign, “A great photo of Lauren Hutton in a white shirt from the 1970s. It was so timeless and beautiful.” What would have reeled me in completely would be the inclusion of Ms. Hutton, who is now in her 60s and still gorgeous. “Confidence and wisdom” and beauty, certainly don´t diminish after 50.

While I am reasonably impressed with the images and inspiration behind the scent, I feel the selling of Sensuous is done with the same banal marketing claptrap as a thousand other department store scent launches: “Estée Lauder Sensuous was created to evoke the warmest, most feminine side of a woman.” “Her softness. Her confidence and grace. Her strength.” And, my favorite: “You are luminous. You are real. You are Sensuous.” The groupings of the notes go to great lengths to make the scent sound unique and unlike anything anyone has ever smelled before: The “Atmospheric Florals – feminine and airy. A veil of petal-soft textures: sheer jasmine, Ghost Lily, lush Magnolia, and an exclusive Ylang Essence.” The “Glowing Amber – rich, glowing amber pulses with a warm, luminous, feminine passion.” The “Mandarin Orange Pulp – a surprising accent of Mandarin Orange Pulp creates a touch of juiciness to tantalize the senses.” The “Black Pepper – captivating traces of Black Pepper add mystery to the delicious woodiness and sensuality.” The “Molten Woods – a rich mysterious core of smooth, fluid woods exudes a sleek, modern sensuality.” The “Addictive Honey – addictive nectar-like honey blended into the body of the fragrance enhances the warmth lingering deep within.” At this point, I´d like to invoke another strong, sensuous cinematic female character: Susan Sarandon´s Annie Savoy from that classic baseball film, “Bull Durham”, and say in her breathy, Southern-belle voice, “Oh my…”

So what does Sensuous really smell like? Personally, I get none of the “Atmospheric Florals”. On me it is woody and somewhat peppery, which I love, and turns pleasantly sweet as it dries down, leaving me with the lingering honey note, which I find very nice, but not “Addictive”. There is very little amber, and the “Mandarin Orange Pulp” is barely discernable. What truly surprises me is how lightly this scent wears, since if you rely solely on its description, it sounds like one of those really intense woody-amber scents that for me would be akin to wearing a fur coat to the beach. I am a devoutly seasonal scent-wearer; I retire all my heavy incense-y, woody, peppery, spicy scents when the warm weather arrives and never so much as crave them until the first autumnal chill. My initial sniff of Sensuous came courtesy of a scented strip of ribbon given to me by a salesperson in Bloomingdales. It was a warm day and the ribbon was so thoroughly saturated, I thought there was no way I would be caught dead wearing this in the summertime. When I read Robin´s review on Now Smell This, I had to re-evaluate it, and alas, I concur with her completely when she says that Sensuous “[wears] beautifully in the heat,” and is “appealing to both the niche snob perfumista, as well as the general public.” I couldn´t say it any better myself.

Now, back to what Sensuous reminds me of. I got into woodsy, incense-y, spicy, less gourmand niche scents a few years ago. I sampled many of them and came away with a number of favorites: Satellite Padparadscha – when you want something dry, woody and spicy, there´s nothing better than this one. Donna Karan Black Cashmere – this is my “fur coat on the beach” scent which, on a frigidly cold day, could keep you warm even if you were to stand buck naked at a bus stop during a blizzard. Idole de Lubin – sweet, boozy, almost syrupy woods. I think the noses employed by Estée Lauder might have had a snort or two of this one when Sensuous was in its developmental stages. Profumum Olibanum sits at the summit of the niche woods/incense mountain for me: Sandalwood, incense and the merest hint of orange blossom; this scent is perfection. Finally, the grandmamas of the category, Shiseido´s Feminite du Bois and Serge Lutens´ Bois et Fruits. These last two are quite difficult to get one´s hands on (not that that would deter the lovely March), but if you want a scent somewhere along the lines of these niche beauties, you need look no further than the Estee Lauder counter, and will not have to dig deep into your pocketbook (1 oz. sells for US $39.50) for a surprisingly pleasant, eminently wearable fragrance. Sensuous may not be an original by any stretch, at least not to a niche perfumista like me, but I like it. I really, really like it.

This really is going to be one of those posts, and I do apologize, but I just have a bunch of stuff to talk about, some only a little bit about perfume.

First, I am going to just squeeze March to pieces for turning me on to these Not Your Daughter jeans.  If you are blessed with a figure that slips into 7 jeans, I’m pea green, but my boyish hips disappeared with the birth of my first son. These things are marvelous. I have hated to go jeans shopping forever because I hate the way they look, they fit or don’t fit. It’s just a trial and painful to shop for jeans. I ordered these without trying them on, just using the sizing guide, and they are perfect. Just enough stretch in them to be comfy, not enough that they are sloppy or loose. If you tend to wiggle around a size depending on the season/laxity of exercise, etc., these will accommodate those, um… size revisions.

Second, we need to organize all of you that are going to Sniffa so we can make sure we get together and meet.  March and I both are going, and it’s week after this, in NYC. If you’re going to be there, drop a note in comments, and if you put in an accurate e-mail address (which only we see), we’ll include you on an e-mail and try and plan a meet-up outside of Sniffa activities on Thurs or Fri or Sat or all three!!!  Like my life could get any better. I get to meet Chaya and lilybp and Neil Morris this week already, so I’m pretty jacked about meeting more of you next week.

 Third, it is your solemn, sworn duty as a perfumista to root for KU in the Final Four.  Well, okay, not really, but if you don’t have a team already picked, KU is a worthy team with a long, classy history of basketball excellence… and they are playing the coach that abandoned them IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT when he said he would stay — the Evil Roy Williams.  No, I’m not bitter, why do you ask?

A month or so ago, March sent me Estee Lauder Azuree to sniff because she thought I would love it.  She gets Aces for her powers of fragrant perception. Introduced in 1969, it has notes of Basil, Jasmine, Citrus, Armoise, Vetiver, Rose, Patchouli, Moss, and Amber.  It goes on like a moss blossom popped its little champagne cork, perfuming the air with lovely green bubbles.  It is your best day in the garden, your favorite, worn pair of leather gloves held up to your nose after you’ve been snipping Rose Bushes and catmint and lavender. If you are a fan of classic, timeless perfumery at its best, snag some Azuree for a run - it’s balls-out underneath a very gorgeous, feminime circle skirt — you know the one, it widens out for miles when you twirl around.

Image from Caryl Bryer Fallert

Patty