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SmellyBlog

Smells of Summer, or Something Like That... + GIVEAWAY

Linden & Rain by Ayala Moriel
Linden & Rain, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.

It's been a lousy summer in Vancouver. There, I said it. Please don't hate me. July is almost over and we barely had a week and a half of descent weather. It's been rainy, cold, and even felt like October at times.

On the bright side, the linden blossoms are having an extra long blooming season. There are linden trees all around Vancouver, and usually they bloom in mid to late June. This year, they bloom from mid to late July, and probably will keep scenting the air well into August... Linden blossoms and rain... Mmm... And I'm now feeling inspired to work with the Linden Blossom CO2 that I got from Mandy Aftel when I visited her studio in Berkeley in late June. Wait - that was exactly a month from today!

So, no beach pictures to illustrate what should have been a cheerful "Best of Summer" type of article here on SmellyBlog. You'll just have to tough it out with this strange collage of linden blossom branch that I found on a wet newspaper stand last Saturday, as I was getting ready for my Orcas tea party. I brought the branch home to decorate the place, which turned out to be an innocent act of luring ants into my house... They simply love linden trees, and they love everything about my house. I should add "ant killer" (as well as "cacti killer") to my resume.

Even the rhubarb had a super short season (hardly even three weeks...!) so my new love of last summer is all forgotten, in hopes that it will return next year stronger and brighter, with its fabulous calone smell.

Today was the first day I actually sat in my porch and write while burning incense and drinking iced match latter that I fixed for myself instead of lunch. I've avoided my porch for months now, due to the horrific weather AND the roofers constantly scouring the area. There was one roofer peeking through my porch at one point, but I think I managed to scare him away, simply by taking him by surprise...

Thankfully, there were still lilacs (for a very short time) and the peonies this year were as pretty as ever. The roses, on the other hand, don't seem to be doing too well this year... All of these are smells that I've learned to associate with summer in Vancouver. But, alas, as previous summer's memories are replaced by a new summer, for better or for worse - here's how my summer smells like:

Basil, Nectarines & Blueberries - better together, in a green salad.

Wild Salmon, which I've finally succumbed to eating after 13 years of lack-of-sun, abundance-of-rain. I was born and raised vegetarian, but now I eat local fish. And there's nothing better than BC's salmon (the smoked one is to die for).

Pinot Noir and other strange red wines I stumble upon when in Sonoma county. Like the fish, this is new to me, because the only wine I could somewhat enjoy till recently was white.

Sweet Peas, with whom I fell in love all over again after spotting a bouquet in a little antique shop in Graton.

Sugar Peas, which when grown properly (cold, wet summers make for ideal conditions), are the perfect beach snack, all on their own. They have a fragrant crisp green yet sweet smell. Not a substitute for green string beans (a summer favourite that I terribly miss and that have been absent because of the lack of sun and heat in BC to grow them).

Watermelon with Feta Cheese - well, when the local fruit is lacking (the cherries this year - also not so great...) - then there is no choice but to get some not so local fruit, and pair it with creamy, uber-salty Macedonia feta.

Perhaps I will just have to create my own summer, in a bottle... So here's a partial list, which I admit to be extremely biased as it mostly contains perfumes that I made myself, and most of them are more on the greener side (Orcas and Smiling Country and Grin body oil is how you should expect me to smell these days). What else can you wear in a summer with constant April showers?!

The others are made by other perfumer friends/colleagues of mine. In the light of the previous article, my sentiments towards handcrafted perfumes are becoming increasingly fonder.

Fleur No. 1 by 1000Flowers - green, delicate floral that begins boldly with galbanum and surprised with pine bud and narcissus absolute. At its base are quiet musks, moss and the haunting violet of alpha ionone.
But I must confess that even more than Fleur No.1 I was touched by another creation of Jessica Buchanan, which is not officially released except for among friends who are privy to this beautiful, all-natural concoction of white flowers and resinous base. It's very cheerful and sensual - so perfect for those rare hot days we're getting this summer...

Honey Blossom by Aftelier - bright, delicate floral focused on the tea-and-honey notes of organic linden blossom CO2.

Parfum Privé by Aftelier - with precious aromatic treasures such as beach harvested ambergris, osmanthus, orange flower and ambrette. I love its muskiness and overall rich roundness.

Le Parfum de Thérèse - basil, jasmine, melon and under-ripe plum - for me there's no summer without this masterpiece by Edmond Roudnitska.

Ineke's Angel's Trumpet from her new Floral Curiosities collection for Anthropologie - if it wasn't for Ineke I would have never paid attention to this curious plant - whose flowers turn into citrus candy heaven only after dark.

Incense Lily by Sonoma Scent Studio* - I understand this perfume has been out of production for a while, but I have a feeling that it will make a come back... Someone at Estee Lauder must have spied on Laurie when they created their Azuree de Soleil, because it's a dead ringer to that. Except that it's hand made with much care and love by Laurie Erickson.

Sombre Negra by Yosh - dark, smoky vetiver at its best.

What scents make your summer? Post a comment and enter to win a mini of Liz Zorn's Ankhara.
Draw will take place on Friday, August 5th.

Jasmine in Berkeley - Visiting Mandy Aftel + GIVEAWAY

Just a couple of hours after landing in SFO, I headed to Berkeley, for my long-awaited visit with world renown natural perfumer and writer Mandy Aftel. Peaking through the thoroughly-shingled house, a window offers a glimpse into the world that awaits within: several rows of antique and vintage perfume bottles, beakers and flasks. I knocked with a copper door-knocker shaped like knocking wrist, and Foster, Mandy’s husband, greeted me with a smile. Moments later, Mandy joined him welcoming me with a big warm hug.


Mandy gave me the tour of her lovely home studio, which upon entry had a distinct smell of raw natural aromatics, although not in the least overpowering and my nose got used to it very quickly. I browsed through her beautiful flacons to smell her newest creations – Honey Blossom, which was nominated for FiFi, and smells primarily of linden blossom CO2; and Candide, which is a voluptuous jasmine possessing both depth and light, partly I think because of the beautiful frankincense and the highlights of the natural isolate benzyl acetate (which is a very sheer, bright ester that is present in most white florals – i.e.: gardenia, jasmine, ylang ylang, narcissus, hyacinth, etc.), and even got a whiff of Haute Claire - the new perfume she created during her correspondence with perfumer Liz Zorn on Nathan Branch's blog, based on a contrasting accord of galbanum and ylang ylang.

Mandy has generously let me feast my olfactory bulb on her fascinating perfumer’s organ, featuring not only unusual and at times quirky aromatics (sarsaparilla absolute, for instance) and isolates; but also most rare, vintage oils of years past – patchouli, and twin glass bottles of vintage ambergris tincture and ambreine (an isolate) that came encased in an antique leather box.


I also smelled other rare treasures, such as her tiare absolute, blue lotus absolute (the prettiest I’ve ever smelled!) and the foody sarsaparilla (yum!), and even a rare tincture of musk deer’s pods (without the grains inside, which were scraped away before the pod found its way to Mandy’s studio). The musk tincture did not smell remotely as I imagined it would be – it was more green than animalic to my nose, almost like angelica. I personally prefer ambrette seed so much better, but than I have never blended with musk and it is likely to have an unusual effect beyond how it smells on its own, similarly to how ambergris behaves, which is why animal essences have been in such demand for centuries, and why there is still so much controversy around them. Thankfully, there are alternatives available to today’s perfumers that are sustainable as well as cruelty free and reach similar effects. Perfumers today are using African stone tincture instead of civet and castoreum; ambrette seed instead of musk; and beach harvested ambergris, which does not harm any whales in the process – and of course, mass scale perfumery would use the synthetic alternatives.


We both share a passion for tea, so I was very excited when Mandy brewed a pot of her Frankincense GABA oolong tea. Mandy’s technique of scenting her teas is very different than mine – technically they are “aromatized” with the essences she chooses and blends carefully (where as mine are blends of teas that were often perfumed with flowers, in conjunction with freshly dried herbs, spices, fruit, etc.). I was pleasantly surprised at the delicate, subtle complexity of these scented teas. They were so beautiful and balanced. I smelled all four from their tins (linden blossom, and the jasmine & mint were both beautiful but there was only time for so many teas in one afternoon!). We started with the Frankincense GABA tea – an oolong rich with antioxidants and scented with a tincture Mandy prepared herself of an unusual specimen of frankincense that has a very smooth note. It opened feeling quite citrusy, like a light Earl Gray or Orange Pekoe tea, and the woody notes only peaked out later on as she kept re-steeping the tea. To my delight, when we were done sipping this delicate brew, she prepared her beautiful Ginger & Turkish Rose Tea (also oolong tea), a combination that sounded strange to me when I first saw it, but smelled so delicate in the dry leaf, and just sublime when steeped. Mandy certainly has a knack for surprising scent combinations, and being able to reach a stunning balance with notes that wouldn’t normally pair too easily together.


Isolates seem to be a newly found obsession among natural perfumers, as they open many possibilities with their single-molecule purity – a quality that is so different from the complex essences we work with, often containing dozens if not hundreds of different molecules. It was not difficult to fall in love with some of the isolates Mandy picked for he palate – Benzyl acetate (jasminey), Octanol-3 (rubbery and a little like black truffle), Alpha Ionone (woody sweet candied violets), Methyl Methyl Anthranilate (grapey wintergreen), and anisaldehyde (like heliotropin with hints of licorice and green notes). I bought a few interesting isolates and oils at the end of the visit, and also Mandy generously gifted me with the very last bottle of her Petitgrain Citron, which she describes as possessing the scent of Meyer lemon blossoms!

Time flies when having fun, and sooner than I hoped the visit had to come to an end – after all, I couldn’t be late for the party Yosh Han organized for me… About which I will tell you in the next post, tomorrow!

Leave a comment with your favourite Aftelier perfume or product, and enter to win a miniature of Aftelier's Cassis parfum.
UPDATE: The winner of our giveaway is Lavanya. Congratulations! Hope you enjoy the Cassis :-)

Note: All the photos are courtesy of Mandy Aftel and copyrighted to Aftelier.

P.s. The visit was on June 29th.

Fig in Fragrance


crossed processed figs, originally uploaded by MatthewA.

Global warming makes Vancouver's summer feel real. And with it comes a craving for figs. I miss their tangy, fizzy sharpness. I miss their oddly refreshing green sap-milky attitude. I even miss the burning in the tongue as soon as you betray their fabulousness and decide to move on to the next victim in your daily diet.

I would spend many hours of my summer wrapping the fruit in brown paper bags, to protect it from the coveting eyes and beaks of birds. I would spend my mornings around the tree picking the first fruit that might have ripened in the heat remaining over night. I would go back there late afternoon for a snack, checking on the more fruit that ripened in the scorching sun, while frying my bare feet on the sun baked earth.

Figs are one of those fruit that if you don’t eat them fresh, you better not eat them at all. Fresh in this case means that you’ve just picked them from the tree less than an hour ago and preferably haven’t washed them either. It’s better to eat them dusty than washed. Trust me. Once you wash them, they lose both their flavour and their texture: their skin softenes and they become this characterless green sack of seeds…

Black (or “red”) figs keep better and are more marketable. Yet their flavour is often less intense or interesting in my opinion. It is the green figs that I am truly passionate about. And I’ve never seen them sold anywhere… Last summer I’ve had them after about 8 years of green fig withdrawal…


Diptyque Figuier Candle, originally uploaded by Ayala Moriel.

Olivia Giacobetti’s Philosykos for Diptyque is by far the most satisfying fig scent I’ve ever encountered. It reminds me of the whole fig picking experience, tongue burning, milky sap and all. I’m sure by now you are well aware of my partial opinion about it. This summer I am enjoying both the scent as well as the “Figuer” from Diptyque. I got it at Lola, and the first time was very unfortunate: the candle has no scent at all, unless you happened to stick your nose to the flame. Not even than, really. Christina was kind enough to take it back (this is her personal favourite too, and after (not) smelling for herself the poor performance of that particular specimen, has given me a replacement candle, which I am enjoying tremendously.

But for those of you unmoved by Philosykos or simply looking for other fig scents to indulge in this summer instead of the real thing, there are quite a few to choose from, as a quick search on Make Up Alley may turn out.

While I can’t claim to have tried them all (well, I haven’t!), I can definitely bring a few to consider and which I would like to re-visit this summer:


Figs in Bowl, originally uploaded by MatthewA.

Aftelier's Fig re-creates the experience of overripe black figs, the kind that is actually worth trying even when not freshly picked. An accord of resinous yet sweet fir absolute along with jasmine sambac and yuzu creates this pleasant illusion for a moment in the opening. In my experience, the FIR is the star of FIG, and the jasmine creates a perfumey impression, which dries down to a powdery sweetness.

Jo Malone’s Wild Fig & Cassis
: As the name suggest, you get two fruit here: green fig and black currants. I found it to be a little to fruity to my liking, yet I think it makes an interesting layering companion to Black Vetyver Café.

Fresh Index Fig Apricot: Like most of the Fresh line, I find this one to be yet another artificially delicious fruity aroma with too little substance to back it up and account for its perfumeness. The base is musky and head achingly artificial. Still, it’s one of my more favourite combinations in the line (the other being Pomegranate Anise and Redcurrant Basil).

Figue Amere by Miller Harris: If you’re looking for a more sophisticated fig, this might be an intriguing challenge for the fig lover: it is one of the most perfumey of all the fig scents I’ve tried, besides Aftelier’s FIG. Bittersweet and salty at once, it feels dusky rather than summery and reminds me of salt-dipped green almonds, myrrh and heliotrope more than figs...

Io Capri, on the other hand, is an uncomplicated summer pleasure of wild fig and tea leaves. To me this smells mostly of green tea, and while being not in the least sophisticated it makes perfect sense for summertime, when we tend to be a little more extrovert and don’t need the additional distraction of a contemplative fragrance. Io stays the same on my skin, light and fresh and delightful, both unchanged and extremely long lasting yet at the same time never overpowering.

Another fig and tea combination, but more perfumey than Io is Fig-Tea by Parfums de Nicolaï
As a whole, I find Patricia de Nicolaï's fragrances to be quite perfumey.

Feel free to share your favourite fig scents with me here. I would love to hear your opinions and recommendations for any fig scents I haven't smelled or heard of but should!

And last but not least is the first fig perfume to be released, also by Olivia Giacobetti – this time for l’Artisan Parfumeur, which reportedly proceeded all the other scents I’ve mentioned. While it is indeed a very fine fragrance, I believe that Ms. Giacobetti got it perfect the second time around with Philosykos. To me, Premier Figuier is a tad too melancholy, and too green with its mastic leaf top notes, and it is a tad too fleeting as well. Nevertheless, the coconut milk base makes it my second choice after Philosykos when a green fig fix is required.

Tango


Tango Shadow, originally uploaded by sk8rsherman.

Tango is one of my favourites from the Aftelier line. And one of the newest addition to it (it was launched this winter along with Orchid – which is my absolute favourite perfume by Mandy Aftel). Tango is a subtle and sexy perfume that leaves you with a taste for more, and is an example for the complexity and versatility of the champaca flower.

Tango starts smoky and rubbery with notes of myrrh and Choya Nakh (an essence of toasted seashells from India). Like asphalt heating in the scorching sun, it may feel overbearing but at the same time casts its magic upon the pedestrians as long as they don’t get burnt...

Than it softens into a soft, almost buttery floral perfume dominated by the rich, full-bodied and slightly fruity spiciness of red champaca and the creamy powderiness of tuberose. The dry down is complex and interesting, mostly a continuation of the tropical floral accord, but much softer, and well blended into the skin. A note of tonka bean helps balance the headiness of the florals and bring sweetness to the initial burnt impression. This olfactory dance lasts for a very long time, in a soft, muted manner –calculated like the controlled passion of the Tango steps, and never overpowering. The Tango dancer here really knows how to restrain her feelings and maintain her dignity through a brutally painful romance.

Tango is available via Aftelier's website, and retailers that carry the line. 1/4oz Parfum Extrait is $140, a miniature of 2ml is $40, and samples of about 1/2ml can be had for $5 each (sold in threes for a total of $15).

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