Showing posts with label 24 faubourg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 24 faubourg. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Hermes 24 Faubourg: fragrance review

Named after the famed "faux bourg" rue of Faubourg Saint-Honoré in the 8eme arrondisement in Paris, where the headquarters of the Dumas-family luxury house are situated, 24, Faubourg was immersed in luxury from the very beginning; to the manor born.



Like many perfume lovers I'm not averse to luxury per se. Luxury and luxuria pose an interesting thought; luxuria is the Latin name for...lust. One of the 7 deadly sins. Luxury lovers do lust over the objects of their desire, do they not?  Desire is sparked by lack. Lack creates eros, the urge to fill the lack, the platonic ideal of uniting two parts that once made a whole. It's a metaphorical concept. Explains why brands keep us on our toes searching for the part that's missing!

In rebelliousness against social class and perhaps due to anti-snobbism on my part (or is it just plain snobbism in reverse, I sometimes wonder?) I have refrained from conscious overt exhibition of the insignia of wealth and embracing the lowly and the humble on purpose. Look at that drugstore item, isn't it fabulous? And that Zara fragrance at a fraction of the cost of a designer one, yet made by Puig just the same? Who needs logos and frou frou, it's the quality in things that matters. The axiom of Coco Chanel has always guided me. It'd be quite inelegant to hang a 50 carat diamond from one's neck, as surely as it'd be gauche to hang a check from it. So why indulge in the luxuria of capitalism? Wanting more, exhibiting more?

I have been perfectly happy going for my esoteric woody incenses for everyday wear. People usually don't even ascribe the aromas emanating from my humble person as "perfume", even when they like them. It's not like Coco Mademoiselle, "hey, you're wearing perfume". I suppose it's like I just left Vespers or something or have been spending a lot of time at the library, which is not unusual come to think of it. I'm also big on white florals and on spicy orientals, though these have a harder time passing under the radar of "perfume awareness". Not that it really bothers me if they do make people notice. After all, many a time a potent scent has sparked an interesting conversation. People united by scent are people united at breath, it's a powerful connection.


The scent of 24, Faubourg is floral, undeniably floral, white floral drenched in honeyed tones, to be exact, not just "a floral".  It's the floral to end all florals, and yet it's not only floral. In its elaborate, Byzantine bouquet I can detect resins, balsams, fruit (fuzzy peaches and tangy citruses), a soft powderiness of orris, some wood, something intangible, something aching to overreach...Sounds like everything and the kitchen sink (same thought with the original feminine Boucheron ) and yet it is not that in effect. Instead, a perfectly judged, lush, satisfying, calorific, dare I say it, yes, I will, RICH effect comes out of that lovely bottle shaped like a carré silk scarf that the Dumas house is famous the world over for.
Although the orange blossom and the jasmine and the (rather less copious in the mix) gardenia owe as much to analytical chemistry as they owe to nature's laboratory, the experience feels like a silken thread woven by some exotic insect with beautiful wings in an engulfing tropical greenhouse.
The allusion to the sun is nowhere more evident than in the advertising images which reflect the golden, ambery aura of the scent. I wrote before that "solar notes" stand for warmth and luminosity and although this is not especially salicylates-focused, it does smell snuggly and jovial and reminiscent of the touch of the sun.

Perfect for the Indian Summer days and evenings we're going through then!

Friday, February 19, 2016

Revisiting the Neglected: Shop Your Fragrance Wardrobe

The notion of "shopping your wardrobe" is hot on fashion and style blogs right now. The idea of a judged frugality has something appealing to it. Like controlling someone's life, an illusion of being in control at the very least. It also makes for worthwhile discoveries at the back of the pile; that rah-rah skirt from high school can't be worn again, but looks at those leggings from the early 1990s! And the perfectly cut jean jackets from the same period, not laser-cut but just as straight and lean? (Lean and long was big in the 1990s, my friends).

Hermes campaign 2012, shot at the oldest olive tree, on Aegina island, Greece

The same principle can be applied to one's fragrance wardrobe. Imagine if we dived at the back of our wardrobes and fished the fragrances we wear little of. With huge collections for the majority of us, the loot should be highly stimulating. Thus began the "Shop Your Fragrance Wardrobe" idea!

I unearthed something truly gorgeous which I had not been wearing for a long, long time. The reasons? I'm not exactly rewriting Das Kapital, but I do breach a bit on it, in a way. Find the article on this link and please share your own neglected fragrances which you recently rediscovered in the comments.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Orange blossom week: part 3 - rich nuances



"A disturbing wind blows from the east, saturating the city of Seville with the scent of orange. Juan Antonios dark hair flies off his shoulder and whips against his face. The seductive aroma of the orange blossom surrounds him and the perfumed wind wafts past his ears, whispering secrets only he can hear.

Can you smell the orange blossom? murmurs the wind. I love that scent. Do you remember? The wind blows stronger over the Guadalquivir River, lifting with it the raw reminder of a time when spring smelled sweet.
Juan Antonio looks up sharply and stares out over the river, his hand tensing around the fret board of his flamenco guitar. He feels the wind crawling around his neck, blowing past his face. He brushes a strand of hair from his eyes, but the fragrant wind only blows it back.
I can still feel you, whispers the wind. Smell you . . . taste you. The wind tosses a burst of citrus his way. Your hands smell of horses and leather, your lips of chocolate. I will never forget your delicious scent. But, I fear you have forgotten mine.

An angry cloud of orange swirls over Juan Antonio, threatening to engulf him. He yanks a scrap of cloth from his pocket and ties his hair back with the tattered fabric. Then he shouts to the perfumed wind. Dejame! Leave me alone! Frantically, he clamps the back of his hand against his nose to block out the opressive sweetness, but it is impossible to block the scent that the wind lifts. The seductive aroma of the azahar, the orange blossom, lives inside of him . . . tormenting him . . . robbing him of the peace he longs to find."


The above is an excerpt from the novel in progress Azahar by Susan Nadathur.
It captures well the ambience that a rich orange blossom perfume evokes in me: the south, its passions, its over the top sensualism, bravado, cheesiness even, yet also familiarity, tenderness, childhood memories of car hops across country, blossoms that die slowly in my lap under the heavy sun, cut too soon from the tree.
The intense sweetness of a lush orange blossom that has peaked, in its prime, with honeyied tones and is ready to yield fruit is trully unforgettable.

If we try to deconstruct the etymology and nuanced meanings of the word "richness" we come up against:
1.Possessing great material wealth
2.Having great worth or value: a rich harvest of grain.
3.Magnificent; sumptuous: a rich brocade.
4. a. Having an abundant supply: rich in ideas.
b. Abounding, especially in natural resources: rich land.
5. Meaningful and significant
6. Very productive and therefore financially profitable
7. a. Containing a large amount of choice ingredients, such as butter,sugar, or eggs, and therefore unusually heavy or sweet.
b. Having or exuding a strong or pungent aroma.
8. a. Pleasantly full and mellow.
b. Warm and strong in color.
9. Containing a large proportion of fuel to air: a rich gas mixture.
and 10. Informal, highly amusing.
All this according to The Free Dictonary by Farlex.

I think for our purposes, all of those terms and definitions apply.
A "rich" orange blossom perfume can be wealthy in that it exudes luxury, costly, sumptuous because of its magnificent aroma, mellow and full, strong and abundant, suggesting lushness and opulence, sweet yet also amusing, playful and warm. It can be all these things. And it performs these tasks admirably.
This is why my heart aches a bit whenever I catch a whiff of the abundance of orange blossom in strangers' passing-by-scent. The trail of opulence...

So, to evoke those memories and associations I chose the following perfumes that smell as rich and sweet as orange blossom in Andalucia does in spring:
Zohar by Ayala Moriel, 24 Faubourg by Hermes, Poeme by Lancome and Boucheron Femme by Boucheron.

Ayala's Moriel Zohar uses the hebrew word for enlightment and brilliance to render a very fine, luxurious soliflore that sprakles like a fine jewel under a hot glaring sun. Centered around Orange blossom absolute garlanded with tuberose and jasmine that add to its white floral theme without veering it into the excessive headache producing effect that some other heavy "whities" produce, it is a true gem. The top notes of fresh citrus essences like the japanese fruit yuzu and the divine cleaner neroli note pierce your nostrils playfully giving way to the abundant heart of the nucleus that intermingles warm amber and honey in an arabesque worthy of Alcazar. The slight rubberiness of true, natural tuberose plays hide and seek all along with alluring results, much lighter than that featured in Fleurs d'Oranger by Lutens, like a princess hidden under a veil in one of the corridors of the palace.

You can sample or order clicking here.

24 Faubourg by Hermès , named after the eponymous address of the House, reminds me of a wealthy protagonist in a classic old Hollywood movie: dressed in a light beige belted trenchcoat, impecably coiffed hair under a heavy silk scarf bearing a prestigious signature, wrapped on her precious little head, lipstic in deep coral, complexion of peaches and cream, out in a sports convertible driving on the slopes of Monaco without a care in the world but always in control of herself. The brilliance of the sun and the warmth of late spring in the air, cinemascope colours melting in amber as the afternoon approaches. If ever there was a trace of the essence of wealth and opulence rolled into one this would be it.
Do not opt for the version Eau Délicate though: the above effect can only be achieved by the Eau de parfum or better yet pure parfum/extrait.

Poême by Lancôme was launched with the darling sensitive face of Juilette Binoche and with verse by Baudelaire which would make it endearing despite its smell to my artistic heart. However an overindulegence by women in their 30s all along the 90s along with the bestseller Trésor by the same house left me with apprehension and tentative in ever owning a full bottle. Touted to be centered on datura flower (a flower of the desert) and Tibetan blue poppy (a very rare blossom), it smells of neither particularly; instead it launches on wild, unmistakable orange blossom arpeggios that are supported by potent cassis and amber notes, further sweetened by the -needless in my opinion- addition of vanilla and tonka bean. This is certainly a rich smell; not however in the manner in which Lancôme intended it to be. Too sweet, maybe too strong, Poême appears to be a little heavy handed and suffers as a result from it, despite its lushful heart. Is it any wonder that Juliette Binoche is in reality a Cristalle fan?

Boucheron Femme by the jeweler Boucheron is last but not least on our list of rich orange blossom scents. Althouth this one is much more of a floriental with all that entails, it has such a sublime, sunny and warm presence that it yelled in french (these were no crude yells, tu comprends) to be included in this line up, like the usual suspect of wealth purveyor that it is. Balanced and poised on the beauty of benzoin and olibanum on a powdery base rich in sandalwood it infuses its rich aroma from afar and entices its victims to fall prey to your guiles, tasting apricots and mandarins and lapping their greedy fingers in delicately hushed licks. In a gold bottle topped with a sapphire top like the gems Boucheron is famous for, it evokes luxury the Parisian way: old style, top clarity, lots of carats, but never ostentatious.

Next post will be in yet a different vein.


Pic of Baños de Doña María de Padilla in Alcazar, Seville, Spain courtesy of quovadimus.org.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Years go by and I'm here still waiting, withering where some snowman was



Today is cold and gloomy. And despite all odds, I feel elated, "a little warm in my heart when I think of winter". The meteorologists have predicted the first snow around the area I live in. Although I know I probably won't see any, as I'd have to drive quite a bit to escape the smog that prevents snow to fall, just the thought of the silent, white blanket craddling our hopes and yearnings is enough to make me dream.
Winter has always been a favourite time for me for reasons beyond logic. It's an instinctive preference, formed at a very early age. As my mother, firm in her belief that children should brace the cold so as to become sturdy (and I did), took me for a stroll as a toddler in bitter cold along the pier, seeing the angry stormy petrol-green sea splash furiously, the wind on my flushed little face, steel skies towering over me, my hands in woolen mittens, candied apples consumed, I felt happy and strangely at home. That was who I am. The joy of returning to a warm house augmented the pleasure already experienced, to be greeted by an adoring father.
Although I am not the person who becomes overjoyed in Christmas for reasons already discussed (much more prefer the Orthodox Easter which is a vastly more mystical and sensual -tied to pagan- celebration in my mind) , winter never fails to make me feel like I was when my feet couldn't touch the ground when I sat on the very armchair I am now sitting cuddling with a good book.
And so perfume should follow. Hence a little list of things that bring to my mind all the joys of winter, of love, of "white horses gone ahead".

Quotes and the title come from the lyrics of the trully great, moving song "Winter" by Tori Amos which you can listen to by clicking on the window above (courtesy of Rasberryswirl on Youtube). You can read the lyrics here

Un Bois Vanille by Serge Lutens
Who else but Serge and Shledrake could come up with a vanilla that is comforting, rich, smooth, deeply woody and never tacky? Vanilla is such an ubiquitous smell, really, which makes it hard to do properly. This is grown up, but with a wink to our childish aspirations.

L by Lolita Lempicka
I had bought a bottle in summer and reviewed it , when it first launched here, but didn't open it for months, relying on samples. Now is the proper time to take the plunge and crack my beautiful bottle open. To me, this is the perfect dark vanilla, with the inclusion of immortelle that adds a salty kiss on warmed skin. Created by Maurice Roucel, responsible for Poison, Musc Ravageur, Farenheit, L'instant and Insolence .

Must by Cartier
Best in pure parfum, Must smoulders and entices, unfolding siren notes of civet and amber anchoring narcissus and mandarin. The unexpected green note of the start has a loose-mouthed effect on the rest of the formula. It highlights it, the way the best conversationalists inspire interest by an unwonted beginning.

Fifi by Fifi Chachnil
From a french lingerie company, this is lacy knickers in dusty antique rose to wear between fluffy blankets, your hair in loose curls. Sweet blond tobacco and citrus notes clash and couple adoringly, a little soapy element with a swoosh of powder, much like Boudoir by Vivien Westwood is constructed, with copious references to the milkiness of Luten's Fumerie Turque. It has a complex character, lighter than Anne Pliska, that was surprising to me and it is definitely complimended by cold weather, as it smells nothing like it should in the heat (hence my delayed appreciation for it).
Thankfully that's one perfume that smells actually better in eau de parfum than parfum/extrait. So, it's also economical!

Muschio e Ambra by L'erbolario
This little italian company makes great products of skincare and perfume and has the most nostalgic labels imaginable; they all seem like they have come out of a paintings index. Muschio e ambra tranlsates as musk and amber and has the delightful smell of aged patchouli and slightly bitter fir resin that stays on your skin for hours on end in the eau de parfum.

24 Faubourg by Hermès
Because after all the orientals one associates with winter, one would want a rich floral to lift the spirits and immerse oneself in their delicacy. This is like the queen of elegance and it veers on floriental. Rich orange blossom on a smooth amber base, sweet but not sacharine. Imagine yourself draped in thick silk and powdered to perfection, your lips painted in a becoming auburn shade to compliment the dark colouring of the juice. Another Maurice Roucel creation. This is the very elegant, classy projection of a lady. Go for the eau de parfum in winter.

Gucci EDP I by Gucci
A nostalgia for great perfumes of the past makes for this thyme, cumin, orange blossom and heliotrope-laced composition that is anchored by vanilla and orris. It smells the way grand dames smelled, but has some air of modernity in there as well, making it a very urban offering for a lady with a hidden side. It proved not to be a big seller for the house, which could be good news (you'll be more unique wearing it) or bad (it will at some point get discontinued), depending on your outlook in life; as with everything else.

Schizm by Ayala Moriel Perfumes
You have probably guessed by now that Ayala's natural perfumes have made an impression on me. Besides her very wintery Fκte d'Hiver her more complex, chypré Schizm is exactly what its name alludes to; the duality of woman: it starts peppery and sharp to segue onto floral notes of which the narcottic tuberose prevails, all bedded down in a country road near a forest, leaves trampled underfoot a campfire smelled at the distance. The official notes are: Black pepper, Cedarwood, Mandarin, Tuberose, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Oakmoss, Musk notes, Incense

Angel by Thierry Mugler
I am talking about the body cream and not the eau de parfum here. Big vats of nasty chemicals are what many people perceive and yes, I can see why. I am doubtful it contains even one natural ingredient in there. And I know, most of you have either a love-it or hate-it relationship with it, because of its mothballs rolled in toxic caspirene-coumarin aroma of choco-caramel and patchouli. Just try a smidgeon of the body cream. It's all one needs...

Douce Amère by Serge Lutens
Bittersweet, more bitter at first, less so after a while, weird like glue, it transports the soul. A mix of cool and warm, it interpolates various moods, that crystallise in one absinthe-liquor prepared the original way, with vanillic sugar on the spoon and everything.
If one is melancholic but not really sad, this compliments the mood admirably in the colder season.

Pink Sugar by Aquolina
What a glorious candy fair smell that reverts us to childhood all over again? The mega-blast of intense tooth cavity giving sweetness is very intense, so what better time to use just a small bit in the dead of winter? Not to be taken seriously. Caress the inner child!

Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque
The complete antithesis of the above mentioned Pink Sugar, for good measure and to prove the schizophrenic tendencies of Perfume Shrine. Not a proper perfume but a room spray that also comes in a candle. Upon spraying the association with tar and birch is overwhelming, so I suggest decanting in a dab bottle to use on one's hands. (it needs a little distance from your face) Dark, deep smokey incense paired with guaiacwood, evoking mustiness and darkness, serenity and centering all in one, rich like Avignon by Comme des Garcons, but with less of a warm feeling, much in the manner of Etro's Messe de Minuit, albeit more wearable.

Painting by Greek painter Nicolaos Gyzis courtesy of eikastikon

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Beautiful bottles in time for Christmas

Just in time for Christmas, perfume companies have issued or re-issued beautiful bottles for their precious fragrances to entice us to buy perfume for ourselves and others. The packaging of perfume does play a part in our choosing a particular fragrance and although I for one would go for my holy grail even if it were packaged in a milk carton, I have to admit that pretty bottles and evocative design does make me daydream. Sometimes the bottle proves to better than the scent, which seems like a disappointment but at least you are left with a beautiful bottle on your dresser, which is better than being left with a bad one (and aren't there lots of those?) That's some sort of consolation for the visual part at least.
Some of the bottles that have caught my eye recently are the following. I amassed them here for your delectation.

First comes the limited editionCaprice de star by Thierry Mugler, the new bottle for his infamous Angel for Chistmas 2006, pictured above. ‘Caprices de Star’ translates as “On the Whims of a Star” and is the bottle for the parfum/extrait. A stunning blue-and-white star-shaped crystal objet which cradles an ultra-concentrated scent (and Angel being what it is, you can only imagine) built around the eau de parfum’s mouth-watering oriental facets. The parfum retails for €160 for 20ml or 2/3 fl.oz. Available from major department stores.
The Dior offering for this Christmas, named Midnight Charm, is a fresh and sparkling departure that mingles Italian mandarin orange with green and fruity notes. The heart reveals a "peach-skin accord" blooming over a floral bouquet of Egyptian jasmine and Moroccan rose. The base has a mouthwatering touch of "glazed chestnut" (a French Christmas specialty; marron glacé which is really really yummy, it makes me salivate as we speak), amber and the musky sweetness of "skin" notes, all enclosed in a bottle that is inspired by the classic Dolce Vita bottle, now interpreted in silver and mauve. Avaialble at major department stores.

For our gentlemen friends the bottle that has captured my fancy is none other than that of Victor and Rolf's Antidote. "While Flowerbomb (for women) is preventive, Antidote is a cure", the advertorial on Osmoz says. Which explains how avant-garde couturiers Viktor & Rolf chose the name for their first foray into men's fragrance. An olfactory extension of their ready-to-wear line Viktor & Rolf Monsieur, Antidote has a complex construction, like a bespoke suit. It blends sensuality, freshness and elegance by using an amber-wood potion; the emerald-hued juice is contained by a black cap with a wax seal that seems about to reach meltdown and is very much to my liking indeed.
Antidote is described as a lush woody Oriental, overloaded with flowers. It has been built around 4 facets. A floral facet, (encompassing a bouquet of jasmine, violet, peony, freesia, orange blossom and more), a spicy facet (blending cinnamon, cardamom, black pepper and nutmeg), a woody, almost leathery facet (blending patchouli, gaiac wood, white cedar, sandalwood and oak moss) and for the final course the amber facet, tinted with vanilla and musk. Fragrance designers: Alienor Massenet and Pierre Wargnye, IFF. Available at major department stores.

The bottle of Nuit d'amour, the latest boutique Guerlain following Plus que Jamais from last year, on the other hand is very exclusive; but it is so old fashioned and heavy in its bacarrat crystal that is bound to procure little cries of excitement by the lucky lady that receives it. The juice purpotedly is not as interesting, which is a shame, but today we are focusing on the packaging and the superficial rejoice of seeing a pretty bottle, so for once I am willing to bypass that. For those interested however it includes notes of pink pepper, lychee, rose, violet, iris, sandalwood, musk. Available from Bergdorf Goodman in the US and directly from the Guerlain boutique in Paris. The baccarat crystal flacon is priced at $2600; while the regular 60 ml size is $390. It might as well stay on the screen for all I care...
On the contrary, the limited edition of Mure et Musc by L'artisan parfumeur is a re-issue of one of their best selling fragrances and the succulent crystal bottle is good enough to eat which prompted them to bring it back again for those interested in adding it to their collection. A very tempting, gorgeous presentation. Available at Aedes in the US and from L'artisan boutique.

Burberry seems to be on an roll with their hugelly successful Brit scent witness the limited edition of Brit Red last year) and for this Christmas they brought out a trully spectacular limited edition bottle with golden tassels on a faceted crystal to resemble the brand's plaid in relief. Available from major departement stores.


The 24 Faubourg extrait is not new, but it is so beautiful in its crystal bottle with the golden drop of the jus inside that it merits a place in this post today. Trully classy scent of orange blossom on a bed of amber and one could not go wrong with getting some. One of the cases when there is no deceptive apperance. A modern classic that never fails. Highly recommended.
And because no crime is accomplished if the starring culprit isn't yet involved, Yves Saint Laurent parfums have gone out of their way to present this smashing new collector's edition of their mesmerising Opium fragrance. Enamel designs of oriental flowers over the solid lacquered black of the bottle, it's eye-catching on the screen as it is live in the shop, making mouths water from the loveliness. Which begs the question: do I need to add this to my massive Opium stash? I guess it does.


Pics come from: Escentual, Amazon, Guerlain rep, L'artisan rep and fashionmag.fr. Many thanks!

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