I would include Ormonde Jayne on the short list of must-smells for any budding perfumista.  They’re interesting and different and often quite lovely.  You don’t run across them everywhere, so it can be a bit of a challenge, but they have one of the best sample deals going, in my opinion – 35 pounds for a sample pack of all their perfumes, here’s a link, the sample set’s at the bottom of the page.  I also like sniffing a new house that way, because then you can cross-reference and get a feel for their style.

I was a little late to the OJ party.  Ormonde Woman can take some getting used to, and several of the fragrances are pretty dense, although Ta’if is a saffron-rose that even I the rose-hater can get behind.   Any number of people are fans of the lighter/linear floral scents – Frangipani, Sampaquita, Osmanthus, and the ethereally lovely Champaca, with its notes of champaca flower, basmati rice and green tea, which is probably the one I’d ask for if a friend offered me anything I wanted from the line.   To my nose, the denser fragrances share an aesthetic, if not an actual base, that approaches an OJ signature.

The newest Ormonde Jayne, Tiare, has notes of mandarin, orange flower, Sicilian lime, Tiare (Tahitian gardenia), freesia, water lilies, jasmine, orris, ylang, cedar, vetiver, sandalwood, patchouli, moss and musk.

One of the fun things about perfumage is you can read the marketing materials and the notes and discover that – whammo! – whatever preconceived notions you had about the scent ate completely wrong.  This was one of those times.  I was expecting Tiare to fall in the lighter-floral-simpler (which is not to suggest uninteresting) camp of Frangipani, Osmanthus, etc., and indeed it’s grouped with them on the OJ website.  I also – sue me – was imagining some sort of tropical vibe, which I guess is a result of being subliminally influenced by the last 85 things that said “Tiare” on the label, which is somebody’s shorthand for “tanning oil.”

Tiare falls right between the heavier, rich OJs and the lighter ones.  But the most surprising aspect to me, which is there right from the top, is the mossy, musky base.  While Tiare develops along its own lines, it invokes scents like Estee Lauder Jasmine White Moss along the way.

In their marketing materials emphasis is made on the transition from the citrusy top to the tiare, so I was expecting the top notes, which are, indeed, quite citrusy.  Then we go through a slightly sweeter floral interlude that carries a faint echo of fruit for me, I’m not sure why – maybe it’s the citrusy top meeting up in that moment with the florals.  It’s not especially sweet, but there’s something a bit jarring about the transition, at least on my skin.  By the way (admitting ignorance here) I’m not sure whether Tahitian gardenia is supposed to smell like the gardenia we’re all familiar with, but you won’t find any of the ripeness/mushroomy/cheesy bits that some of us love in other gardenia frags.

It isn’t until well into the drydown that Tiare begins to take on some of an Ormonde Jayne feel.  As the citrus notes fade and the sandalwood, cedar and musk emerge, the entire pitch of the fragrance creeps in the direction of the woody-herbal astringency of Woman, although never becoming as deep or as strangely compelling as the latter.

While browsing other OJ reviews in contemplating this one, I ran across the following (in a review of Champaca), from Robin on Now Smell This:  “One of the things I adore about the Ormonde Jayne line, and Champaca is no exception, is that while the fragrances are composed of modern materials, the individual notes maintain an old-fashioned, pre-aldehydic kind of distinctness. These are perfumes for people who really like to smell things, and they don’t appear to have been influenced by modern test marketing practices.”

First off, I couldn’t agree with Robin’s sentiments more.  Which brings me in a roundabout way to my persistent, nagging, possibly completely unfair unhappiness with this fragrance.  This is the first time I have ever smelled an OJ and had it immediately remind me of something else – and not just a particular perfume(s) but an entire trend.  We’ve been cross-blog joking already that perfume houses must be bustin’ out their post-IFRA new chemistry-set faux-mosses now that oakmoss has been blacklisted.  Off the top of my head, Tiare is somewhat similar to the EL Jasmine White Moss, Miyake A Scent, and Cristalle/Eau Verte.  Okay, three perfumes is hardly a glut, and I’d rather have that than another gourmand, or fruitchouli.  But still.  OJs in the past have reminded me of nothing except what a freaking genius I think Linda Pilkington is.  I dug out some random samples to resniff while preparing this post.  While smelling Woman for the umpteenth time I am still struck by how compelling and original it is, and Ta’if is gorgeous and vibrant rather than cloying, as it might have been.

So … this one I am not entirely loving, although I think it’s beautifully done and the lasting power is excellent.  However, I am also not the queen of the mossy greens, and I’d certainly say that fans of Cristalle and the Estee would want to smell this.

March

I’m going to try to write about perfume, but I’m fuming at the moment. The kitchen looks like it’s been set up for a toddler group’s first experience of paddling – puddles everywhere. There’s a leak under the sink I can’t seem to fix cuz the u-bend join keeps fu messing up and no amount of rescrewing, cleaning, crying (that was meant to say drying, but it’s an appropriate typo), sealing, seems to fix the fu devil. All because, since this morning, I’ve been installing a new dishwasher – our aged old chugger gave up the ghost a year ago and I’m sick of cooking and then also bloody well washing up. I thought I’d set it all up myself to save a little money. What a f**kwit I am. I guess I’ll need to call a plumber out soon if the u-bend doesn’t sort itself. Still, I’ve got lovely clean dishes after my first run through, even if there are drills, bits of wood, screws and all manner of other home improvement artefacts scattered over the granite work surfaces, like some post-ironic art installation. And that’s not to mention the content of two cupboards and all the extra bits of piping I’ve had to buy and cut to cope with our totally bizarre drainage set up in this 200 year old house. Rant over.

There’s been a lot of ladytalk on this site recently, what with March’s recent obsession with nail varnish and her Wednesday article on lipstick. Gordon Bennet (mild, archaic British expletive), I’m happy for the little ladies to have their interests, but puhleeze, all the bleeding details started doing my head in. So instead, I thought I’d bring us back to proper manly talk, for guys who are tough enough and maybe like it rough: car engines golf lifting weights wrestling football home improvement perfume. There, that’s better. I feel the stubble growing as I type the words. Three fragrances this time. In mini-review style, given the drips that continue to call to me. First up, Ormonde Jayne’s latest release, Zizan.

I’ll triangulate for you and end with a description. Take the woody dry smokiness of Gucci pour Homme, add in the contrasting feel of the top notes to drydown of Rochas Lui (where green and yellow citrus notes replace orange ones) and sprinkle on a dash of masculine austerity from le Labo’s Vetiver46. That le Labo number starts of trying to convince you you’re trapped inside a monks’ apothecary, circa 1500, before changing its mind and softening up, with tonkaish vanillic touches. The Ormonde Jayne goes the other way – starting out bright and playful before becoming grey with incense and dry woods. It’s tough, it’s manly, it’s very different to the softer Iso e Super-driven features of both Isfarkand and the superior Ormonde Man, but it will no doubt please lovers of retro-infused scents of a permanently hairy, chest-thumping, strutting-as-though-you’re-hung-like-a-donkey butchier-than-thou scents. And a bonus for lovers of binomial classification: the name comes from the Latin for vetiver. Or so I read on basenotes. (It has nothing to do with French genitalia). Is it all about the vetiver root though, as the name would imply? Only in the same sense that Vetiver 46 is, though it does have greener aspects than that church-to-cuddle number. I will say though, even thoug Linda Pilkington herself calls it a powerhouse, the ingredients are refined, high quality, and a pleasure to sniff, even if the scent isn’t something you’d wear.

• Next, the re-released LP No. 9 from Penhaligon’s. Once again, the info:
• Minty black and warm, LP No. 9 casts a spell of powdered darkness from its complex heart of ylang-ylang, spices and iris. The aromatic mingle of clove, vanilla & earthy patchouli add a sweetened ginger-ale touch to heady layers that open and smooth into a moreish bubblegum-scented delight.
• 
  
• So there you go. I got no bubble gum, though that might be a reference to the clove note. For me, it was five parts Rocabar, four parts Un Bois Sepia and one part dentist’s mouthwash. I liked it enough, though my testing was fleeting. The sample is somewhere in my car.
• As is the last of the trio, another Penhaligon release. Elixir is designed by Olivia Giacobetti as an update of their classic Hammam Bouquet. However, it’s more in a reference to the idea of a hammam, I think, than that venerable fragrance itself.
• Here’s the story:  Head notes: Eucalyptus Steam, Cardamom, Orange blossom absolute and White cedar; Heart notes: Red Turkish Rose absolute, Egyptian Jasmine absolute, Cinnamon leaves, Mace and Rosewood; Base notes:  Benzoin “tears”, Tonka beans, Vanilla, Incense, Red Sandalwood and Guaicum wood.  Opening with eucalyptus and the harmonising hot spices of cardamom, cinnamon and mace, the senses are massaged with the dark magic of Turkish rose and jasmine, sharpened with a twist of orange. Heat and smoke rise and the incense and woods mingle with the earthy rub of resins and spices. A touch of vanilla and the soft persistent roundness of hypnotic Tonka bean complete the atmospheric dry-down.
• 
  
• Interested? I was. But, perhaps more than any of those ingredients would indicate, this is primarily an incense scent. Now, I’ve never been very goth, drawn as I am to the frivolous and funky. Therefore, a combo of incense and rose, resting on a background of whispered spices, ain’t my thing. And the first time I tried this, that’s what I got. However, on two subsequent occasions I received quite a different impression, based perhaps on whatever that eucalyptus steam is supposed to be. It smelled like a high quality sauna, a place of luxury and relaxation (though, to be honest, saunas ain’t my thing either) and, though evanescent, I was happy to sample some more. I won’t be buying it, but it’s good to see Giacobetti continue to explore oriental sheerness in her recent work. Is it just me, or does that bottle look like some tat from a set of bad stage props?

• 

   There. I’m done. Back to the plumbing, unfortunately. To make someone smile, leave a message if you’d like to receive my samples of these. I’ll throw in the women’s LP for good measure too. I hope to respond to you at some point during the day, though the kitchen disaster may well continue, and I’ve got much loved guests arriving from Calfornia. I have pumpkin pie to bake! With ginger and cardamom cream!

• p.s. A tip. Never try writing in wordpress using Google Chrome. You’ll regret it.Unless you enjoy failing to reformat your text.   Aaargh!

Lee

When one sets out to narrow down to six perfumes her favorites, what she should do instead is grab a Xanax,  place her head under the pillow, hold it down firmly so nobody hears and scream until the mood passes.

But I didn´t. Instead I have come up with the list of the six perfumes that I cannot live without, under any circumstances, and which best define who I am or want to pretend to be. So they may or may not be the perfumes that I admire most as great creations, though I think all on this list are that, but they are the ones most beautiful to me. The agonies of discarding beloved perfumes from this list has been horrible. Warning, there are a couple of incidences of cheating to narrow this down…

1. Ormonde Woman. Full-bodied green velvet -think Miss Ellen´s Poitiers from Gone with The Wind, after they got made into that beautiful green gown for Scarlett. A little saucy and tart, makes you pucker sometimes, not sure if you like it or not, but inevitably its charm wears you down. Parfum version preferred, it just amps up the annoyance and the charm.

2. Guerlain Aprà¨s L´ondee. Melancholy, regretful, but completely full of hope. It is sorrow at 1,000 yards, where you can look at it and appreciate the exquisite pain without really feeling it. The numb place before the real pain sets in or after it has gone. EDT or parfum will work.

3. Le Labo Patchouli 24/Vanille 44 – Okay, this is a cheat, I know, I know! But they GO together, kids! A spritz of Patch down the front of your shirt for depth and tarry resonance and a couple of spritzes of Vanille over your outer clothes and in your hair creates a cloud of woody vanilla over that tar - truly the most amazing and comforting scent in the world.

4. Christian Dior Dorling vintage parfum. What a cold, unfeeling thing it starts off as, and you´re thinking it has no soul; it´s finicky, much too churlish and standoffish to love. That´s when Dorling brings the magic. It warms not into the most beautiful girl in the room, but the most interesting, the one you have to stop and pay attention to, sit and talk with. Anthropomorphize much? Well, this perfume seems completely human to me, and she never fails to amaze me.

5. CB Cradle of Light/Strange Invisible Perfumes Lady Day/Serge Lutens Sarrasins. Yes, I´m cheating, but any of these three could fit here, and any day will have me changing my mind. They are gorgeous jasmine treatments, and each stuns me and can keep me mesmerized all day with its beauty - sort of a hypnotic sniffing loop.  Everyone has to have a jasmine on their list, unless you hate jasmine, but you should get over it and put one on your list anyway… or three.

6. Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist. Give me that overabundance of cold, rooty iris with a dollop of spice in the drydown, and I´ll give you my unadorned and complete, lavish devotion for a lifetime.  Genius, brilliant, and a joy to wear on any day of the year.

While I started off with a list of five, I had to expand it to six because none of these would exit the list. Now, as I read comments, I will find my head exploding as you guys mention perfumes that should be on this list, and there is a subset of about 100 perfumes that go beneath these that I also can´t live without, but these are the list of six´ish that I will have in embarrassing amounts for all of my life.

What´s your six?

Annoying American Idol part of Friday:  Ramiele is GONE, yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mop-up items:  Winner of the Indult C16 and CdG Hinoki samples are:  Tom (tmp00) and Six.  Just click on Contact us over on the left, and send me you address and I’ll ship you the samples! 

Patty

Item One: Sniffa attendees — you should all have gotten your email itineraries. I didn’t realize it was such a full schedule. What say we try to hook up during the two-hour cocktail deal Saturday night (6:30 – 8:30) at BlueMercury, assuming we haven’t met already? Everyone in the Posse wears a scarf or bandanna? How does that sound? I’m thinking about wearing a tiara. Too much?

Okay, today’s post. Maria sent me a package — with a typed letter, organizing her thoughts. I thought it would be fun sharing it with you.

“Dear March,

Here are a few things in various categories.

Some Scents You May Not Yet Know

Comptoir Sud Pacifique Thé EDP, discontinued several years ago. “Don´t worry about your blood sugar level! CSP used to produce some fragrances with character. Lapsang souchong is at the base of this strong scent. Warning: this is the most powerful sillage monster we own. Very hard to find, I understand.” March says: wow, that´s beautiful. I get a camphorous lapsang opening, then straight into a sweet-tea and other interesting bits (suede and musk?) This is reminding me of something, a men’s scent with tobacco? I can’t think of what and it’s driving me nuts.

Fendi Theorema (shimming body lotion) and Esprit d´Ete (EDT) – “Less complex and not as deep as our beloved Theorema, this summer version is a nice fragrance in its own right. Imagination Perfumery sells it for $16.99 while supplies last. The lotion puts down a subtle golden shimmer. I wonder if the plasticky quality of the scent comes from the tube it was packaged in.” March says: I see this online occasionally dirt cheap and never bought it. Smelling this summer version of Theorema I realized: Theorema ruined light, sweet orange blossom scents for me forever. The stunning beauty of Theorema´s dark, almost liquored, spicy candied orange peel has made almost every other orange scent seem pale and soapy. Here, let me list regular Theorema´s notes just so I can drool on my keyboard: nutmeg, pepper, orange, rosewood, rose, ylang-ylang, carnation, cinnamon, labdanum, patchouli, sandalwood, benzoin. There – are you drooling too? Anyway, I can´t find the notes for Esprit d´Ete, but it´s a much lighter, much less spicy, more linear orange scent — a good choice for someone who likes the slightly powdery, soapy floral sweetness of orange blossom rather than the sweet-tart acidity of the fruit. That regular Theorema body lotion, though – ugh. It smells like mildew to me.

Trussardi Jeans EDT “At first I liked this. Then I thought it was meh. I can´t decide.” March says: Wait … this is a men´s fragrance? It smells like heliotrope! Hang on … researching … oh, okay, this must be the women´s. Notes: green notes, fruits, almond, violet, tuberose, white lily, heliotrope, musk, vanilla and woods. I do think it´s pretty, a delicate powdery scent. It´s got a nice, light musk, and it´s a little bready, which I also like. Too much powder for my taste, but you powdery comfort-scent people might love this, and it´s a screaming deal online.

Scents I Cannot Hack and I´m Not Ashamed to Admit It

CB Musk Reinvention absolute “It asked me to send it to March.” March says: That´s because it knows it´s coming home to the Mother Ship. It can sit next to my own personal bottle of CB Musk Reinvention on the shelf, which I keep in its special airtight container designed to keep the XXXL skank from tainting everything around it. One of the very few scents I´ve seen people sniff and literally jerk their heads away from, like they´ve been bitten. Can I say I think it´s beautiful?

Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Woman “It will be more appreciated by you. I hate it violently.” Notes: Cardamom, coriander, grass oil, black hemlock, violet, jasmine absolute, vetiver, sandalwood, cedarwood, amber (and thank you Basenotes, I missed you!) March says: Wow. Oh, wow. Having tried this several times, I´d already typed a lead-in sentence about admiring OJ Woman´s masculine beauty while finding it unwearable – the only one of the OJ line I´ve not been able to love. Then I popped open the vial. You just never know, do you? Because all my murky Black Forest fears with this one, that primeval bit that creeps me out just enough that I can´t relax and enjoy it, seem to have vanished, replaced by something still dark but playful – a fairy tale involving an evil witch but with a happy ending. I still wouldn´t spray this thing on with abandon – on me it´s very strong, definitely a dabber. That resin/urine note which I´m guessing is hemlock can be (interestingly) modified by adding a dab of CB Black March, although it sounds a little sacrilegious to me, layering an OJ, frankly. It´s like touching up a masterpiece. I keep doing the first fifteen minutes over and over again, just for that rush of spicy violet. I wish the drydown were a tad sweeter, but nonetheless. I feel like I´ve finally gained admittance into some exclusive club.

Rochas Femme edp “I’m glad you like the reformulation more than I do.” March says: what, too much armpit? I have the vintage too, and it´s gorgeous, but a completely different scent, a woody chypre. The cumin in Femme was apparently added to try to achieve the same kind of shock level. I find the combination of cumin and the macerated peachy sweetness quite seductive.

Parfums de Nicolai Maharanih EDP “You´d think it would be my sort of thing. It isn´t.” March says: and I am surprised, because I would think it´s your sort of thing. I did a brief impression of Maharanih on my PdN post here, and can I say yet again what a woefully underappreciated line PdN is in my opinion, due in no small part to the fact that you almost never see them in a retail location? Clyde´s Pharmacy on Madison Ave. in NYC has some, but I have never seen them anywhere else outside the PdN store in London. Maharanih´s notes are orange essence and bitter orange peel, rose essence, carnation, cinnamon, patchouli, sandalwood, civet. Interestingly, this doesn´t even register to my nose as particularly orange-y – it´s a spicy pomander type of scent, unsweet, and that woody civet base combined with the florals is lovely. Some of the PdNs wear a bit sharp on me, but considering what an unusual flaw that is in current perfumery – not sweet enough! – I´m not going to complain about it. March the Maleficent decrees: everyone should love at least one PdN. I´m very fond of this and Balkis Light, which of course is impossible to find. Maria, I wonder if you like any of the others better? Have you tried Eau Exotique? New York? I know there are some PdN nuts on here!

Anyway, Maria, thanks very much for reminding me why I love perfume, and the people who love perfume.

cartridge wrappers: sullivanpress.com

March