Anima Dulcis (Sweet Soul in Latin) was one of those rare things in the perfume world: love at first sniff. And that first sniff began intriguingly with cumin, a note so rarely used in perfume, and when it does is considered a daring choice. It's not-always favourable association with sweat is precisely what makes cumin compelling to me. It makes it more human and accessible on a personal level.
The love at first whiff is not so much because of the cumin, but more so with how it is orchestrated with iris and earthy-ambery base that brings to mind non other than the reformulated Femme de Rocahs (1989). In the latter, there is something audaciously over-the-top and a tad plastic-y.
Anima Dulcis, however, is everything I could hope that version of Femme would transform to on my skin and better. The cocoa plays greater role in the ad copy (a Mexican theme of chocolate and chilli) than in the perfume: it's merely in the background, creating a layer of soft-focused dusting to complement the powdery orris, indolic jasmine and liberating hedione, and leading to a sensual, earthy finale of dark patchouli of the best kind and the bitterness of arcane myrrh resin.
Discovering it was like meeting an old friend I was searching for a long time. A consoling moment. And to me the name is more of a suggestion that there is an echo to our soul somewhere, whether or not we're aware of it.

Top notes: Cumin, Black Pepper, Ylang Ylang
Heart notes: Jasmine, Cinnamon, Orris Root
Base notes: Vanilla, Patchouli, Benzoin, Myrrh, Cacao

It only took me 2 years from when I received these incredible fabrics (vintage kimono silk) from Japan, to actually making and filling them.

They are hand-stitched (I still need to sew a few more), so very labour intense - a labour of love, if you will. But that's not the true reason for my procrastination. I just did not know what to fill them with!

The solution was partly serendipity, and partly luck. On my last day in Berkeley, I visited Yuko Fukami. She generously gifted me with high-quality Japanese herbs, spices and resins that she in turn received from our mutual friend Ross Urrere. In true Japanese fashion, she beautifully wrapped them with wax-paper, similar to how a TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine) doctor packages his custom-dosed powdered "herbs" (for all I know, these can range from true herbs and plant matter to minerals and crushed sea-horses, tiger bones, dragon's tails and other mythical creatures body parts).


Upon my return to Vancouver, I immediately set to mix together these glorious components, as well as some of my own stashed-away botanicals: dried ume (Japanese sour plum) blossoms, whole tonka beans, and others that for now will remain secret. Crushing the tonka beans with a marble set of mortar-and-pestle was a truly sensual experience. Although there is mostly coumarin in tonka, there is also something else that is nutty and spectacular that you just don't get from the isolate/synthetic molecule alone. I love it! French chefs grate it on microplane and add to chocolate desserts (ganaches, macarons, ice-creams...). In North America it is illegal to use it due to carcinogenic effects. Personally, I think that we are exposed to far more dangerous carcinogens in daily life (your seemingly innocent ink on your grocery receipts has a plastic that is highly carcinogenic, as are most cans used to preserve foods). So I don't feel bad at all making myself a tonka-dessert once in a blue moon.


The sachets were supposed to be a studio-exclusive for my Hanami tea party. Unfortunately, we had to cancel it and will host it either in early May, or next year... So you can now get them online on my virtual boutique. These are very limited edition - I only have enough fabrics and filling for 12 sachets.

The Japanese used incense and sachets just like that to scent their kimonos and stationary so that they will be recognized for their good taste by their lovers (or suiters)... Use these sachets to scent your lingerie drawer, linen closet or stationary. You can also throw it in your suitcase when traveling, or tuck into a wool sweater or jacket's pocket for a lingering scent and to keep moths at bay.

Pathouly Indonesiano by Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561

There were a few other patchoulis I wanted to try and close the patchouli series with – namely – Hindu Grass (Nasomato), Reminiscence, Purple Patcholi (Tom Ford), and the Hermessences Patchouli that one day Jean-Claude Elena will come up with (he will, right?). But, alas, I was not able to find a tester or a sample of them in my vicinity.

I stumbled upon Patchouli Indonesiano at Scent Bar, who discovered them in one of their trips to Firenze. It’s by an old Italian pharmacy brand that I’ve never heard of before, and that produces. They have a rather lengthy name: Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561. And yes, the name alludes to its rather archaic historic origin sometime in the 16th century in a Benedictine monastery, which developed into their modern incarnation as cosmetics providers - their preparations range from face and body moisturizing lotions and toners to shaving to sunscreen products. And of course, true to form - they produce the much more sophisticated incarnation of aqua mirabillis: They have a couple of other predictable single notes themes that are not surprising (Ambra Nera, Vaniglia del Madagascar) but most of the names are actually far more exotic and imaginative. And if all are as well made as this Patchouly – then the is truly worth exploring!

Patchouly Indonesiano is a real, hard-core patchouli, that brings to mind upturned soil yet with a captivatingnutty opulence that make stand out. There is a certain sweetness to it – from benzoin, perhaps, and later in the scene you might notice a mere hint of sandalwood... But overall, all you’d smell is patchouli with much depth, redolent of dark red wine with spicy undertones. A must for patchouli lovers and haters alike – you might be surprised. Patchouli at its best is glorious, and the best comes from Indonesia.