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Keiko Mecheri's Jasmine

Humble Beauty

What's in a name? Plenty. Expectation, mood, and as a result how we perceive a scent has everything to do with what is on the label. And Keiko Mecheri's Jasmine is case in point. Not so much because it was recently renamed Clair-Obscur, but more so because when something is called "Jasmine", "Jasmin", "Gelsomino" or any other variation on the name, once expects it to smell like a Jasminum of this variety or another. Like many other jasmine-named fragrances, this sample was left unattended for many moons until I finally got all obsessed with this note for the July Jasmine summer theme. The reason it was neglected, among the rest, is because it did not really smell like jasmine to me (Did I mention yet that I'm spoiled with all the pure jasmine absolutes I have on hand?).

Jasmine (or Clair-Obscur, if you will), begins as a green, fresh jasmine with a fruity, soapy, shampoo-like personality. It seems to focus on the tea aspects of jasmine, but that does not make it in the least tea-like. Rather, the result is a triple-milled bar of jasmine-gardenia soap. While I can enjoy this type of soap - I would like a jasmine perfume to have more depth and complexity. It took me a few more wears to realize the soapiness comes more from a lily of the valley note than from gardenia, actually. Lily of the valley is a note widely used in functional perfumery, soaps in particular. The notes listed are Sicilian night blooming jasmine and Absolute jasmine. And thankfully, once the soapy-tea-greens dry out, there is more of the absolute coming through.

bubble and squeaky clean

It's overall pleasant and agreeable, but smells more fake than authentic (which seems to be a repeated problem with all but a couple of the jasmine perfumes I've sampled so far), and does stand out as particularly original or true to the flower either. But thankfully, this is rectified about an hour or two into wearing it, at which point I felt quite ridiculous for not recognizing the Lily of the Valley sooner. It has something in its evolution reminiscent of non other than Diorissimo! Once the soapy green notes and lily of the valley (not quite realistic as Diorissimo) dissipate, I'm left with a true jasmine absolute on my skin. A development that I've only experienced with Diorissimo. So far - most of the jasmine fragrances I've sampled, if they smelled compelling at all, had a rather brief jasmine phase, and were quickly replaced by a repeated theme of musk and vanilla. Kudos for Keiko Mecheri for creating something that smells like true jasmine in the dryout, and remain that way for a while so we can enjoy it.

So what's in a name, you ask? If the name had alluded to lily of the valley in some manner, I would have enjoyed my first wear better, instead of being disappointed that it smells like soap. Anticipation plays an important role in how we experience the world - and fragrance in particular. Now that I told you what you're up for, go and try it out and enjoy a well-made lily of the valley and jasmine perfume.


Drama Nuii

Bunch of Jasmine
Drama Nuii is a rather jasmine-y concoction from Parfumerie Generale. Not my favourite among their offering, but worth mentioning in our jasmine-context this month. It is not all dark as the name suggests, but rather a fun, fruity rendition of the flower, with a rather convincing, semi-realistic jasmine opening counterbalanced with a surprisingly melony note. It's not as watery-powdery and obvious as this may read - but rather a juicy and surprisingly balanced; almost like candied zucca - with a hint of salt.

It dries down into a musky-lemony thing. Not bad, but quite disappointing after the rather interesting opening, that was both original and far more jasmine-like than half of the perfumes I've been testing since this jasmine marathon began... It's neither particularly dramatic, nor night like (I think Nuii is a play on a Thai word that would translate this into "über-drama" or something along these lines; but also sounds like "Nuit", night in French). More like the morning after, perhaps.

Notes include: petitgrain, absinthe, jasmine, spices, guaiac wood, sandalwood, musk (but what I'm smelling is jasmine, peach/apricot, cantaloupe, vanilla, lemon and musk). 


Peach-Scented Jasmin

Peach Scented Jasmine

Maître Parfumeur et Gantier's Jasmin is from Les Fleurs Divines collection - which seems to be a dedicated to soliflore fragrances. This particular perfume was inspired by the jasmine plantations near Fez in Morocco.

Jasmin begins with a musky-woody jasmine accord, a tad rosy with a hint of tart citrus - almost lemony but note quite. There are particular aspects of jasmine that seem to dominate in this composition, namely the animalic/indolic part, and a fruity note that gives off a suade-like texture, like peach's fuzz (perhaps undecalactone, or so-called aldehyde C-14).

Jasmin is very pretty, delicate and ethereal but still with some substance. It reminds me a lot of Yvresse (formerly Champagne) by YSL, with its sparkling, fuzzy peach top notes - fruity but also slightly milky and skin-like. But it's more subtle and less obviously Chypre (the moss here is just a tiny hint). Another surprising similarity is to Petit Guerlain, of all things - a similarity that becomes more apparent in the dry down, which makes me wonder if there is any lavender as well hidden in its formula.

Jasmin also brings to mind of Narcotic Flower by 1000 Flowers, which also has similar fruity and indolic accents only it's more light and less of a beachy Floriental. It is more like a garden on a humid, rainy summer day. There is no big statement in Jasmin.  It's beautiful, and that is enough. In addition, there is more authenticity to it than most of the jasmine fragrances I've smelled so far. The photo above is of a Jasminum officinale that I've photographed in Jerusalem many years ago and titled "Peach-scented Jasmine". Jasmine truly can smell quite peachy!

Top notes: Lemon, Rose, Peach
Heart notes: Jasmine, Indole 
Base notes: Oakmoss, Musk

Alien

Alien orchid

When Alien initially came out  in 2005, I was disappointed. It seemed so tame in comparison to its predecessor Angel, and even when placed against the more subdued flankers of that one (Angel Innocent), it stroke me as a cacophony of nondescript synthetic florals.

Ten years have gone by, maybe my sample has improved with time, or maybe I'm just more able to appreciate some of the thinking behind this strange perfume. Now it smells like an upscale version of the sweet florals that celebrities are overeager to endorse, but also - it smells like it has a bit of the Angel DNA in it, and not in the form of cotton candy, patchouli or berries - but rather with the spacious, watery-ozonic Helional that matches to a T the hideous, dangerous-looking bottle that looks like it comes from Lady Gaga's stash of torture gadgets.

alien by thierry mugler 2

The opening has a peculiar camphor off-note, that makes it smell almost genderless or even a tad masculine. It's not quite green but there is also a hint of menthol as well. These two consecutively confusing impressions disappear within a few seconds, and there is a hit of jasmine sambac's gardenia-like quality, a hint of its grassy, oily greeness, the type you'd get in a disastrous Jasmine auriculatum absolute - but thankfully, that also is very short lived. Next up is a vaguely fruity, lactonic, sweet-floral phase. There isn't a particular fruit involved, but just an overall juicy luscious aroma of methyl anthranilate and perhaps undecalactone and peach lactone, and then it bounces off to camphor/menthol territory again. With all of this movement upfront, at least I it's not boring for the first few minutes.

While I can't say I'm enamoured with Alien, I can see something in it beyond the generic and notice hints of odd, off-beat nuances. It's not as striking as you'd expect by the washed-out face of the Tilda Swinton-esque model, who seems startled by the headlight of a passing spaceship. If you look past the yawn-inducing aspects of it that bring to mind Chanel's Allure, you'll notice a tiny bit of Lolita Lempicka in there, something yummy yet not quite chocolate-y, not quite licorices-like, but a subdued spicy-vanilla of sorts that makes it quite enjoyable overall, actually. Another surprise for me was, though, that a few hours in, it morphs into a fragrance very similar to Tocade - a powdery, vanillin ambreine floral, though unlike Tocade, there is nothing rosy about it, even though the jasmine is mostly gone by then. Just a similar balance between powdery, clean yet sweet amber and musk.

Top notes: Camphor, Menthol, Bergamot 
Heart notes: Jasmine sambac, Jasmine auriculatum, Methyl anthranilate, Helional
Base notes: Vanillin, Musk, Amber, Anisaldehyde 

Jasmin Full

Sunset @ Sunset Beach

Montale's take on jasmine is a tropical night-time fantasy. Like most of the jasmine fragrances I've been reviewing for this July Jasmine feature - this is from a sample that was sent to me via a swap on one board or another. And like most of the jasmines - I felt underwhelmed when I initially smelled it. With this particular one, I even put it aside completely because I found it to be way too synthetic and chemically smelling.

Let a few years go by, and wait till summer - things are thankfully improving for this perfume. I find summer in general to be THE season for white florals. Something about the heat and humidity that simply brings out the best from such scents. Perhaps its no coincidence that this is their blooming season as well.

Worn on a warm summery Sunday afternoon, Jasmin Full is a creamy, full-bodied white floral that makes my mind wander to the beach-side resort around sunset. Sand lilies are in bloom and nearby jasmine and honeysuckle vines give off their best perfume, filling the night air with magic and anticipation. My skin smells like I've spend most of the afternoon swimming and sunbathing, and probably wearing one or another of those tropical-smelling sunscreens that I love to indulge in: a sunscreen lotion that reeks of juicy mango, papaya and pineapple, laced with tiaré and plumeria and underlined with sweet and creamy coconut. And then there is also Guerlain Terracotta Eau Sous la Vent - to which this perfume is almost identical to, but a bit darker and warmer, to make it bikini-tailored to a night time beach party.

Jasmin Full is not particularly jasmine-y, and if anything is more similar to turberose - so I'm not sure I would have called it Jasmin Full. It's also very similar to Songes, but more tropical smelling (a tad of coconut, perhaps?), and is also similar to the original formulation of Tiaré by Comptoir Sud Pacifique. But it does bring to mind a full moon, beach, summer, tropical white florals, and is an all-around fun and easy to wear on a summer night (or afternoon).

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