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Noix de Tuberéuse


flowers from my lei, originally uploaded by flicka23.

These little white flowers from the narcissus family have a rich nocturnal life: it is not until the evening that their scent is at its full intoxicating aphrodisiac powers. It was traditionally considered dangerous for a young lady to pass through them as to be overcome by its intoxicating and voluptuous fragrance and be struck helplessly by it aphrodisiac powers (Poucher, 1959). Different crops and varieties of the absolute smell differently – some are powdery, soft and sweet, other have a slightly green overtones, and the harshest ones have been described as rubbery and almost medicinal.

In modern perfumery, tuberoses are often interpreted as a bombastic, loud and high-pitched narcotic florals. Poison and Fracas are two extreme examples of how tuberose can be treated in a very bold way. Noix de Tuberéuse, however, is the first and only perfume I found so far that is built around the theme of tuberose and does not have a harsh, intimidating, heady and cloying presence.

Noix de Tuberéuse is the softest tuberose and the one that reminded me most of the pure absolute. It is simple and I consider it a soliflore as the other notes all serve to accent different aspects of tuberose: mimosa and clover leaf hint at its slight green top notes; orris enhances its powdery softness; violet flowers bring forth an almost gourmand sweetness; tonka bean brings out its rich yet gentle, creamy-buttery sweetness; and ambery incense and sandalwood add a full bodied yet mysterious aura that along with reminiscence of coconut serves as a reference to the tropical Orient.

All in all, Noix de Tuberéuse is a creamy, buttery, sweet and soft tuberose scent. It reminds me of two things – the first one being the perfume oil called “Night Queen” from India. It is not a fancy perfume – but smells delicate and alluring, like flowers and incense intertwined. I am quite sure it is suppose to smell like tuberose to begin with, as tuberose is often referred to as “Mistress of the Night”.
The other olfactory reference links us back to Lipstick Rose, as it does remind me of the scent of some lipsticks. The violet and orris that appear in both perfumes have a similar effect and create a pleasantly plasticy nuance that is akin to the taste of a shimmering pearly-pink lipstick, if you happen.

The packaging of Noix de Tuberéuse is pink, and I couldn’t think of a better colour to describe this scent. It smells pink to me… It also brings me good memories, from when I first worn it a couple of years ago and my daughter was recovering from a broken femur, an incident that had forced her to choose speech as an effective method of communication... Ever since than she can’t stop talking, and my dreams are coming true. Maybe that is why I associate it more with chilly autumn days. But regardless of my own personal memories and associations, I still feel that the heat (even the very slight heat such as the mild spring weather in which I was wearing this yesterday) upgrades this scent into the next cloying-level which decreases both its sex-appeal and delicacy.

Top notes: Wild Green Clover, Mimosa
Heart notes: Tuberose, Fig, Violet
Base notes: Tonka Bean, Orris, Amber, Sandalwood, Incense, Coconut

p.s. I can't smell the figs on my skin at all. But these are listed on the official Miller Harris website.

Lipstick Rose

Nothing tastes more sweet, tender and alluring than trying Savta’s lipstick in front of her dresser. Whether or not I got permission did not matter, my grandmother often offered me her lipstick to try on. In her chic little magical purse she always has everything one needs when on the go – yet you will never guess there is anything in there by the weight or volume. Pure magic. From mints to tissue to anything else, including a lipstick in a basic colour – basic red or shimmering pink or coral - and a little vintage mirror that I will always remember her by: with roses embroidered on the back, and a brass ornamented handle. When looking at it, my tiny young-girl facial features appeared bigger than life and in incredible detail which could be only explained as a type of grandma’s magic.

Retro aldehydic, pink, powdery and lady-like, Lipstick Rose brings back these memories quite effortlessly. This is not supposed to be a rose scent – but the scent of a rose tinted lipstick. However, it does have a significant amount of rose that can justify both interpretations… With notes of violets (both powdery and sweet candied flowers), musky ambrette seeds, soft aldehydes and sweet-powdery heliotrope, powdery iris, and sweet and honeyed raspberry and tagetes notes.

Wearing Lipstick Rose is like digging in my grandmother’s vanity drawers, playing with her little mirror and a sweet smelling lipstick and staring glamorously at my funny facial expressions.

Notes (based on Perfume Addicts Database):
Top notes: Violet, Grapefruit, Ambrette
Heart notes:Coriander, Tagette
Base notes: Aldéhydes, Rose, Iris, Rasberry, Héliotrope

A Whiff of Happiness


Fallen Frangipani, originally uploaded by mz_skade.

There is a moment of revelation when approaching a familiar scent – for a moment there are two matching vibrations between two scents – the first one being the one in the smeller’s mind and the other the actual scent that is being smelled. A whiff of a flower and the vapour emanating from a bottle met and struck a chord in my ofactory heart when I smelled Fleurs d’Oranger.

The top notes of Fleurs d’Oranger are likened to dewy orange blossoms on the tree in early morning. However, this tree grows in Serge Lutens’ garden, which means it has an unbelievably rich soil. The blossoms warm up to the glowing sun of high noon and attract humming bees to transform them into honey. They exude a sweeter scent with the help of understated tuberose and jasmine notes. By the end of the day, the rich soil reveals itself in full blast with the signature Serge Lutens amber. The blossoms have melted into sweet golden honey and turned deep orange, saffron, crimson and fuschia in the sunset. Its creator was right: it is the scent of happiness.

p.s. The above photo is yellow-hued fragipani flowers in a golden-glowing atmosphere. Although orange blossom flowers are colourless, I associate their cheerful fragranace with the colour yellow. Yellow always puts a smile on my face...I love to wear golden yellow-freesia colours with my Fleurs d'Oranger, including a yellow flower in my hair - it make every moment so much sunnier in so many ways, even in the darkest of days...

Ode to Freesias


orange, originally uploaded by blaueaster.

There are two floral notes that remind me of a flower shop – carnations and freesias. There may be the occasional lily-of-the-valley in springtime that has scent in the flower shops too, but only these can be found almost year around, and actually have a scent besides flower-fridge-aroma. The other thing they have in common are their close relationship with spices – carnation’s eugenol makes it smell very much like cloves, and freesias have a generous dosage of freshly ground green and white peppers.

Dyptique’s Ofresia is a scent that just showed up in my mailbox one day, waiting to be appreciated. I liked it right away – for its simple freshness and pleasant presence. Without being ambitious, Ofresia is the best freesia I ever smelled, with all its peppery spiciness and green freshness. It is also sweetened with a very subdued vanilla base note, which is probably why it is one of the most wearable green perfumes I ever tried*. Ofresia is cheerful, dewy and lighthearted. It can make you feel like the orange background of the photo above, or like freshly ground white and green garden.

* I seldom reach for green perfumes. I love green scents in nature, but when bottled, I often have an adverse reaction to extreme greenness, despite my efforts to make peace with them.

While Passing…


Whale Watch, originally uploaded by Weffie.

Things you may find while passing might be the least expected. I passed through to smell the lilacs of En Passant, and in a short snatch, a-la the chess maneuver by the same name, I found myself searching for whales on a misty day on the Sait Laurent river… Unsuccessfully, needless to say, but enjoying the fjords and the moist mist…
The heady, innocent and slightly powdery spring-like scent of white lilac quickly leads my nose to the subtly fragrant branches and stems bearing blossom-vines. These transform into an olfactory green fig leaf scent, and than in a split of a second you find out that you just jumped, head first, into a chilly ocean – smelling the fresh air of the ocean breeze, with its slight saltiness, and the clean, fine mist meeting your face as you watch for whales on the fast-loating boat…

With notes of white lilac, cucumber and wheat, Olivia Giacobetti has created an abstract lilac perfume that is more of a subjective interpretation of the flower rather than an effort to re-create the scent of the fresh blossom. Its ozone and marine cucumber notes are not my personal favourite and the wheat adds to a certain flour-y powdery yet green nuance that is nevertheless interesting and original on its own. However, the result of the final drydown is surprisingly disappointing in its ozonic-oceanism and its reference to l’Eau d’Issey of all perfumes.

Top notes: White Lilac
Heart notes: Fig, Cucumber
Base notes: Water, Wheat, Violet Leaf

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