“Here at Laughing Pines
Where the party never ends
There’s a spicy new attraction
On the Funway
You can scan yourself
For traces of old heartaches
The details of desire
Shimmering – shimmering”

(Donald Fagen, “Springtime” from his solo album “Kamakiriad”)

Besides the Japanese origin of both Issey Miyake's l’Eau d’Issey and the inspiration of “Kamakiriad” (a legendary futuristic Japanese car) there should seemingly be no connection at all between the two. But if l’Eau d’Issey could have a sound, it will definitely have the sparkling, chilly & magnetizing synthesized studio sound of Donald Fagen and Steely Dan. Particularly the sound that can be heard when playing the few lines that are quoted above.

Everything about this perfume suggests purity – from the bottle design – a simple cone with a transparent sphere suggesting a drop of water caught at a perfect moment in the air, the icy frosted glass and aluminum – to the colourless juice. But most importantly, it is the only water that can be enjoyed when drunk through the nostrils.

Designed to smell like water, l’Eau d’Issey provides artificial tranquility in a most magical way. One drop from this cone vessel encompasses within it all the vital promises of pure water – thirst clenching, cleanliness and rejuvenation. It only takes a tiny drop from the pure parfum to make one feel like swimming in a bubble of fresh water, or the unmatched pleasure of licking off condensation droplets from an icy glass of water.

L’Eau d’Issey strats off green, with notes dewy of fresh cut grass, quickly replaced by the subtle honeyed sweetness of blooming flowers – linden blossom and magnolia, with the freshness of neroli – but mainly lead by a transparent and slightly green rose note. These florals are complemented by a computer-generated note of cool fresh air, which gives the over all impression of a water lilies.

A few minutes through the scent (whether if you showered in the last 12 hours or not) – you ought to feel clean and refreshed! The droplet of perfume expands into a whole water experience which will float around you for the whole day, carrying the fresh breeze of outdoors in a brisk winter day, as well as the freshness of melted ice water.

Though light and fresh in character, l’Eau d’Issey possesses a highly impressive lasting power, and once the water finally evaporates (which will take about 6-8 hours), you will be left with a transparent, white-musk and woody accord, achieved by using double distilled and refined essences of cedar and sandalwood.

l’Eau d’Issey makes me feel like I had just swam in a chlorine-drenched pool, and the scent has not yet decided to leave the skin completely. I love to wear it in order to achieve a detached peace of mind, or as a releaf for mental thirst for water-derived tranquility. It can be also used as a substitute for shower if necessary.

Special thanks to Siobhan Flanagan, who reminded me of this exceptional scent.

For reasons I do not have the liberty to reveal here, I was always intrigued by anything that had to do with secret agents. And as a result, it may not be a surprise that my signature perfume is called Espionage…
My grandfather had an extensive library of John LeCarre books, the original, first print hard-covered copies. I always live in fear that John LeCarre will die before it’s time, like my grandfather did, but thanks God – he is still in good health and writing books and even likes their film versions for reasons other than money (which I do hope makes its way to him as he deserves it!). For some reason, filmmakers have been always quite careful with adapting his marvelous novels into film and TV – and although some of the detail is always being left out, it always feels authentic (the ones that I watched, anyways, which included Little Drummer Girl, The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, and the most recent, mesmerizing heartbreaker, The Constant Gardener).
And so my interest was peaked as soon as I got the word about this alleged Femme Fatale.

It is therefore not a surprise that my interest was teased by the thought of an alleged Femme Fatale perfume named Agent Provocateur conspiring in some remote olfactory regions. I pondered it for quite a while before I dared to approach it. It sounded like such a grandiose ambition, almost intimidating in a way. The fact that the scent was nowhere to be sniffed until very recently helped the denial process. Out of sight, out of mind.

I first smelled it in London, it’s birthplace, I suppose, and immediately dismissed it as being too bold and loud as well as old fashioned, and was rather convinced that it smelled like other perfumes I smelled before (if indeed I smelled something like it that was when I was a little girl, and I have no way to track it at the moment besides, perhaps, relying on your suggestions and guesses – and these are more than welcome!). Than one day, it showed up at my doorstep one day (thanks to Pamela Hettrich - thank you, Pam!), and I decided to grant it with my bare skin. What may have smelled sharp, bitter, spicy, acrid and dry at first – with a dash of aldehydes for a good measure of old-fashionedness – turned into a quite interesting yet very wearable fragrance.

It is not as soft as the smooth egg-shaped (a symbol of fertility, claim the marketing masterminds behind the scent; fertility and espionage, interesting combination...) porcelain flask may suggest. But it does have the contrasting effect, reminiscent of the black lace through which the pale pink shade skin tone peeks, as if blushed.

The spicy, sharp opening of coriander and saffron exudes confidence more than it is exotic or Arabesque as may be expected. It does, however, mellow quite quickly with an explosion of roses laced with hints of complementary flowers, their softness undermined by the dry, acrid tones of cedar and Vetiver. The dry down is actually softer – there is still cedar, roses and Vetiver, but they crubmle into a dry yet soft, powdery presence underlined with musk. Despite the dryness and because of its warmth, Agent Provocateur is like a sexy coarse voice from a mouth dry from heat and excitement. But it can also be other things.

Agent Provocateur is allegedly the scent that will provoke upon you inconceivable naughty crimes that you would have never thought of before. But really it is just one solidly constructed perfume for a change, in a fragrance world that often seems to dissolve into an awkward redundancy and offers unreliable olfactory fantasies. It has all that I like about Ivoire (roses, dry woods and leather), but without the sharp greenness. One could easily drop the sexy image and wear it to a formal occasion without ever being accused of sexual harassment or any other provocations. Even Mata Hari needs to go for lunch sometimes.

I would not pretend that Agent Provocateur does not have any of the Femme Fatale allure to it. It is a sensual, bold and daring in its own way. But I am not so sure about the espionage component… My feeling is that if it indeed provoked anything in that direction, it is the re-definition of Chypre. There is no oakmoss in it to make it a Chypre, yet this is its official classification. As a perfumer and a Chypre admirer and expert I would classify it as a woody floral, or a spicy oriental. If there is a perfume to blame for the introduction of the concept of “Pink Chypres” in modern perfumery, let it be Agent Provocateur. But I will get into this conspiracy theory at another time…

Top notes: Saffron, Coriander
Middle notes: Moroccan Rose, Jasmin, Magnolia, Ylang Ylang, White Gardenia
Base notes: Cedar, Vetiver, Amber, Musk

I first smelled Tocade twelve years ago, when it was just launched. I didn't think much of it, except that I liked the bottle, which reminded me of a pagoda.

Tocade is one of my most favourite linear scents. Despite the fact that it offers very little if any evolution, it is not in the least uninteresting. The only evolution to speak of is reminiscent of Ravel’s Bolero, only that instead of the elaborate crescendo, Tocade is like a stretched diminuendo.
Tocade starts with what can be perceived by some as a strong, soapy bergamot and rosewood accord, that is fresh and powdery at once. I enjoy the clean feel of this opening, despite its somewhat harsh sharpness. The soapy phase fades really quickly, and becomes a rather soft, powdery, fluffy rosy vanilla fragrance, with a faint amber in the distance. This accord stays quite the same for the rest of its life, as Tocade is quite a linear scent, you won't find in it much more than there is a few minutes after applying it on... But that is what makes up most of its charm and loveliness. It is in fact this concept makes Toacde an interesting perfume in its own right.
Though it has plenty of floral notes - roses, geranium and magnolia - Tocade is not quite the usual floral, and I see it more as a powdery fragrance, quite reminiscent of a soft, soapy fragrance. It is a subtle scent that I find comforting with its clean, soft and subtle sweetness.
Wearing Tocade is like cuddling in a soft flannel pyjama and bedsheets with a matching texture, right after an evening shower... I wear it most often as a bedtime scent. However, with its humouros, sexy and light-hearted chic it can easily live up to the expectations of more demanding scenarios such as work and play.

Tocade was one of the first very abstract, super-synthetic perfumes that I really liked. Despite the fact that the notes are supposedly inspired by nature, there seem to be no ambition in its construction to create any imitation of or reference to nature. It is a synthetic, man-made pleasure, just like a beautiful city.

Top notes: Bergamot, Rosewood, Magnolia
heart notes: Rose, Orris Geranium
Base notes: Cedar,Vanilla, Amber, Musk