One speaks of the moods of spring, but the days that are her true children have only one mood; they are all full of the rising and dropping of winds, and the whistling of birds. New flowers may come out, the green embroidery of the hedges increase, but the same heaven broods overhead, soft, thick, and blue, the same figures, seen and unseen, are wandering by coppice and meadow." (E.M. Forster from "Howards End")

Chant d’Aromes simultaneously reminds me of Spring and of Autumn, with its bitter-sweet tenderness, and a cheerfulness that can be likened to a flower emerging from a bulb after a storm. With its fragile and melancholy beauty it reminds me of the film Howards End – Leonard wondering in the forest amongst the bluebells until the grey dawn, the wind blowing in the blooming trees, the almost-mystical history of the house and the tragic tale of friendship, love and social differences that separates between people.

Chant d’Aromes is a delicate floral with subtle woody-chypre undertones. Noticeably, Chant d’Aromes has a uniform impression that is carried out throughout the different phases (that is not at all to say that it is a linear fragrance) – the beautiful floral heart notes are apparent from the first stage of the perfume, and gradually mellow down and lead into the more woody, mossy notes.

Chant d’Aromes opens with top notes of mandarin, bergamot, peach and aldehydes. These are there only for a few moments, to introduce the luscious, dew-laden floralcy, and disappear leaving only a trail of retro aldehydes that maintain a soft and bitter-sweet mood all along.

The heart is primarily honeysuckle, supported by fresh, morning-dew blossoms of gardenia and jasmine – (unlike the heavy, intoxicating night blooming white blossoms with the tropical fruitiness). This beautiful floral heart gradually reveals some more warmth, just like a fresh garden gradually warmed up by the gentle rays of sun.
To its delicate sweetness there is now some added powderiness, from orris root and the unfolding cedarwood base notes.

It gradually deepens, with a velvety touch of oakmoss, and very minute amount of vetiver, that is light but adds a tiny bit of warm woodiness, along with transparent musk and frankincense notes, and a hint of the almond-like tonka bean that emerges from the Guerlinade.

The EDT is true to the parfum, but requires many reapplications. The parfum is not much heavier, just slightly richer and most significantly – has a more satisfactory staying power. I also find the pure parfum to be less bitter as the heart notes linger longer.

I don’t usually view perfumes through fashion lenses, but Chant d’Aromes has a white and cream coloured retro feel to it and I love wearing it with linen and pearls in warmer weather.

Top notes: Peach, Bergamot, Mandarin
Heart notes: Gardenia, Honeysuckle, Jasmine, Orris root
Base notes: Cedarwood, Musk, Oakmoss, Frankincense, Vetiver, Tonka bean

Comparing to the multi-faceted masterpieces Mitsouko, Vol de Nuit and l’Heure Bleue, Shalimar is in danger of being the most obvious – a purely seductive indulgence. Even the bottle shows off with it’s fountain-shaped stopper – or is it the feathered crown of a peacock’s head? It is a grandiose show-off of sensuality and passion – not unlike it’s inspirational tragic love story which resulted in the bombard grave known to us as Taj Mahal.

In fact, Shalimar is almost too good to be true. There is nothing in this perfume that is not pleasantly dripping of sweet softness and curvy sensuality. From the sweet and fresh bergamot and curiously smoky top notes through the rose petals and jasmine blossoms softened by powdered iris, carnal base notes of castoreum, musk and opoponax sweetened with amber, tonka and affectionate doses of vanilla. The real beauty, however, and where the genius of Shalimar lies, is in the final dry down – a soft and delicious just-kissed skin,fondled and worshiped by a lover.

From the most memorable creations of Jacques Guerlain, Shalimar is least complex, despite its incredible richness and expressiveness.: it sends a clear message of an indefeasible aphrodisiac. It’s beauty lies in the uncompromising hedonistic attitude and the absence of ambivalence in it’s total romanticism and sensuality.


Top notes:
Smoky leather notes, Bergamot, Orange

Heart notes:
Rose, Jasmine, Orris

Base notes:
Vanilla, Amber, Opoponax, Musk, Patchouli, Castoerum



p.s. The only concentration I recommend for Shalimar is the Parfum Extrait. It may be different with vintage Shalimar, but the newly produced ones in other concentrations are a far cry from the love song that is the pure parfum.





Illustration from Karin Kuhlman’s Peacock fractal

L’Heure Bleue is one of the true masterpiece by Jacques Guerlain. I see it as standing hand-in-hand with its sisters Mitsouko and Vol de Nuit. There is certain quality that underlines those three masterpieces and makes them even more than an amazingly beautiful-smelling perfume to wear - but truly a work of art.

L’Heure Bleue is sophisticated and anigmatic, and yet has a unique melodramatic peacefulness that definitely does not lack reflective, philosophical melancholy…
When you realize, once the last dusky lights are giving themselves away to the first stars, how beautiful the day was, and how wonderful the deep blue night is, and the world is so vast and immeasurable and so full of beauty that it may even make you want to cry…
This moment of beauty is so eternal that it makes you feel your mortality in a painful way. Still, you are content with yourself and your life that you know if it will be taken from you that moment, you will feel complete and in perfect harmony with the universe…

You breathe in the silent fresh air of your warm summer garden… The night blooming jasmine is beautiful and intoxicating… The grass that has been just watered, full of murmurs and insects’ summer-songs… The orange blossom flowers are just folding themselves for a long, peaceful night sleep. You pick a late blooming rose, a deep, velvety-purple-crimson rose, her petals already soft after warming up in the sun for the past three days. You hold the rose and fondle the petals and hold them against your cheeks to sense the warm scent of a mature rose releasing the peak of her last fragrance into the night air... And it is all part of you now, there is no need to hold on to it.

Those beautiful, magical notes interweave with each other so gently that it is hard to tell one from the other. Together they create one impression that in my mind I visualize as a very earthy brown colour, though somewhat rich and copper like. I simply cannot see a deep blue when smelling l’Heure Bleue, though the different notes on their own make sense and tell the story of this time of the day:
There are the subtle citrus and anise top notes that are there to accentuate the soft florals, including violet flowers, and link them to the deeper base notes.
The root of the composition, apparent from first application, is a soft and bittersweet heliotrope, combined with tonka bean that accentuates the softness, yet also possesses the bitter-almond-like undertones. Vanilla and orris root are also present, to support the overall powderiness and soft, mature and philosophical nature of l'Heure Bleue.

The drydown is somewhat more smooth and ambery (though it is hard to see l’Heure Bleue as an oriental per se –it has such a unique individuality and perhaps deserves not to be categorized at all…Just like Vol de Nuit and Mitsouko, I am afraid it does not quite fit into categories…)– The drydown is a bit less powdery, with a vanillic accord. It also has some woody notes in the drydown – I suspect vetiver, but cannot quite pin point it. I will not be surprised to find some oakmoss in it either, though not in a chypre context but an oriental context, and perhaps some underlining spices that are subtle and are not meant to be recognized but rather create a warm undernote to support the rest of the scene.

There is something in it that totally reminds me, surprisingly, of Mitsouko – the fruitiness that is quite dry, bittersweet (dry peach like notes in Mitsouko, and the cherry-like notes in l’Heure Bleue); and a certain dark woodiness at the base that is interesting, mysterious, hard to grasp – but once you get it you are totally captivated!
The fruitiness of l’Heure Bleue lasts much longer though – as it originates in the heliotrope base notes, rather than the peach top notes in Mitsouko (that most people find they fade just a bit too quickly after been exposed…).

Top notes: Bergamot, aniseed
Heart notes: Jasmine, Orange Blossom, Rose, Violet, Carnation, Orris root
Base notes: Heliotrope, Tonka Bean, Vanilla, Vetiver, Woods, Spices

L’Heure Bleue is probably the most incredible inspiration one could have ever found for a perfume – the name is beautiful, captivating, alluring, enchanting...
Initially, the fragrance itself did not do the same thing to me - It seemed to be extremely sweet, with a dominant, bittersweet heliotrope note in it, and dries down to a rather interesting and comfortable ambery-powdery vanilla. It wasn’t until I tried l’Heure Bleue in pure parfum that I got to enjoy, understand and appreciate it more – although I believe I only touched the surface of this aromatic mystery. It smelled intensley of jasmine when I smelled it directly from the bottle, and from there the images started flowing...

When I first heard about l’Heure Bleue I was so fascinated with the inspiration for it that I decided to create my own interpretation for such a magical hour. It immediately made me think about my mother – an enigmatic lady (I am still trying to figure her out…), she is an aquired anosmic who always loved anise and velvet. I created for her the perfume Indigo, an enigmatic concoction of anise, caraway, bergamot, boronia, orange blossom, jasmine, violet, spices, incense and amber. To be honest, there is hardly anything in common between the two fragrances, left for a few notes and the insipration. Indigo is soft and cool as satiny-velvet, and smells like a nightfal in the Wadi – the dried riverbed, full of luscious greenery and vegetation, and the sounds of frogs and crickets.

I only learned about l’Heure Bleue’s sweetness after creating Indigo (I didn't find l'Heure Bleue until after I created my own interpretation for that inspirational and magical hour). So, once I actually smelled the original creation I must admit I was somewhat confused and initially, perhaps a bit disappointed: it was not what I expected, it did not make me think about the blue hour – until after I worn it several times in the parfum form, which unfortunately is becoming harder to find by the minute…Like Mitsouko, I think it takes rare personality to carry it through easily and without tapping into it first…

Now that I have given l’Heure Bleue a chance, and tried it several times, I must confess that I understand why this classic has survived two world wars as well as the currently overwhelming age of perfumery.

p.s. Although the other concentrations are nice too, the pure parfum is for sure the best one. The Eau de Parfum is quite true to the parfum, while the Eau de Toilette is more similar to Apres l'Ondee. The other concentrations will be reviewed later.

Artwork: Frank Holmes - Blue Twilight