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SmellyBlog

Happy Spring Equinox!

Spring Equinox

Happy Spring Equinox, and Happy Persian New Year!
I've spent the last few days on the road, taking the train to Portland, where I stayed with the lovely Trish of ScentHive and her equally lovely family. It was an unusually dry and bright sunny day, and we strolled through the famous Rose Gardens which were only beginning to send red-green tender leaves, full of promise for happy summer.

Violets & Moss

Her neighborhood is filed with gardens, which are at least one month ahead of Vancouver's spring weather: the daffodils were in full bloom and there were gorgeous sweet violets (which I can't even find in a nursery in Vancouver, and don't bloom till the summer if anyone is even growing them!).

And I even met a new flower - Edgeworthia chrysantha, related to daphne, and beautifully scented to boot. Its delicate scent filled the damp and ever so slightly warmer spring air, with a delicate, clean floral scent, with hints of citrus overtones and clean-woody undertones.

Edgeworthia chrysantha

And then of course there was a classic Portland garden moment like this:
Mad Tea Party

And a street corner like that - which pretty much sums up the culture of Portlandia - wooden ATM booth, food trucks, wacky architecture in the background, and across from it were two very rad stores - one for making your own terrariums, and another that is stuffed with glowing gnomes of all sizes, Easter eggs, Day of the Dead skeletons, and just blatantly mismatched paraphernalia of all ends of the spectrum from hideous to Disney-kitsch.

Quintessential Portland Street Corner

And now I'm in Berkeley, preparing for an afternoon tea for all the perfumers in the area, and those attending the 2nd annual Artisan Fragrance Salon. It is hosted at Alembique - and up and coming boutique for the art of perfumery, just off the beaten tracks near Gourmet Ghetto. Miss T is here to help and just overall keep the morale up for this rather ambitious operation (i.e.: hosting a tea party a day before a big show, and all very far away from home!). We are soaking up the Bay goodness (although so far we've mostly seem to have broken the drought in the area and began our stay with 2 days of rain!).

Io Capri

cuppa heaven by Az~Kate
cuppa heaven, a photo by Az~Kate on Flickr.

A few years ago, I received a Carthusia sample set from the rep at Holt Renfrew. This was back in the day when they re-opened their Vancouver department store and launched “Holtscents” – a niche (or mini boutique) in the store front with interesting perfumeries from around the world. Unfortunately, by the time I picked my favourite among the samples – the line got discontinued (along many other good brands, such as Miller Harris and Ineke), which was disappointing and disheartening to see – just another proof for Vancouver’s very limited appreciation for scent. Thankfully, Frederic Malle is still there and they keep rotating other niche brands (currently the new kid on the block is Byredo, which I don’t care much for). Io Capri and the other scents from Carthusia can be found in person and online at Anthropoligie, The Perfume Shoppe and ScentBar, so it’s not all lost...

But ranting about retailers choices aside: Io Capri was not what I thought I would fall for. I’m usually biased towards the heavier, smokier, spicier, oriental or chypre members of a perfume line, with an occasional unusual floral that I find intriguing. With Carthusia, I found myself drawn to the two light and fresh ones: Io Capri and Mediterrano.

Like most winning scents in my history, it’s the combination of familiarity and intrigue that usually “grabs” me. And Io Capri is a prime example. There was more of the unfamiliar in it; and on the surface, it’s not what I would pick over smoldering incense or moss-laden composition. There is a fine balance between crisp eau-de-cologne like freshness and the complete opposite – a flowery, feminine perfume with a sultry and salty undercurrent.

Io Capri opens with a bitter, acrid sharpness of citrus mingled with herbs. But immediately you will notice a violetty, floral mélange that has an almost nostalgic bittersweetness to it, and as it grows on the skin it takes the shape of parma violet in full purple ripeness. Green garden notes of tomato leaf become apparent suddenly – totally unexpected; and a slightly soapy, overripe purple fig floats on a cup of iced green tea. After this succession of notes, Io Carpi settles into an abstract cup of violet and fig tea scent, paired with salted green almonds - and other than that, remains rather unchanged throughout its skin life.

Contrary to my initial observations of Io Capri, it is actually a rather complex scent. It does remain linear after that initial burst; but there is more to it than "just" tea. Aside from the whimsical surprise of green tomatos, it is really that intriguing combination of candy-like beta ionone and salty notes that got my attention. A look at Carthusia's own website reveals an interesting scent pyramid that would explain quite easily why it won my heart:

Top notes: Wild Mint, Sicilian Lemon, Chinese Eucalyptus, Aromatic Litsea, Star Anise, Brazilian orange

Heart notes: Fig, Wildflowers, Tea, Apple Blossom, Egyptian Jasmine, Ceylonese Citronella

Base notes: Seaweed, Tobacco flowers

Midnight Violet Cocktail

Midnight Violet Cocktail

At long last, my search for available violet liquor in Vancouver have found their victim: Legacy Liquor Store had the last bottle on their shelf of Giffard Violette. Considering that most of this company's products are flavoured syrups for cocktails, it not only not blow my socks off when I tasted a bit on its own. It actually reminded me of a vitamin syrup I had to take when I was little (I think it was vitamin D, but it could have been something else). Not awful tasting, but definitely not what I'd expected a violet liquor to be like. To be perfectly honest, I think I would have been far better off insfusing vodka with my own concoction of violet-like herbs and essential oils. But I had to feed my curiosity and know what the "real thing" is supposed to be like.

So, with much hesitance, I tried my concocting my first cocktail with it last night with my friend Miriam. We looked up some recipes online, and each looked less promising than the next (i.e.: third of each violet liquor, Marachino liquor and heavy cream - no thanks...). We settled on what seemed the most sensible of all, and the least cloying. And voila - a cocktail of our own was born, which was quite enjoyable and with a beautiful blue hue to boot!

1/2 oz homemade elderflower cordial
1/2 oz violet liquor

1 oz gin (we used Hendricks, which has lovely floral backnotes of rose)
Shake with ice and top with San Pellegrino or another unsweetened carbonated water. Garnish with 3 crystallized violet petals for an extra touch of retro feel, and more of that purplish-blue colour.

New Growth

So much for the candles!! by she who is
So much for the candles!!, a photo by she who is on Flickr.

There’s no mistaking the influence of No. 19 upon opening the cute little 15ml splash bottle of my friend and colleague, fellow Canadian (now turned Grassoise) perfumer Jessica Buchannan’s newest creation, Fleur No. 1 galbanum and iris make a happy dance that echoes the distinct accord that is so characteristic of Chanel’s iconic scent, yet with far less melancholy, and with underlining softness of musk. After a few minutes, Fleur No. 1 quiets into a mellow sweet violet of alpha ionone, that quietly hums for a prolonged period of time. Once you’ve made the leap beyond the violet drone, you will find a meadow with delicate green floral narcissus and hyacinth notes, warm woods and a hint of oakmoss, and if you listen carefully – a subtle coniferous note that is softly green, like the new growth tassel of spruce in springtime.

1000Flowers Fleur No. 1 by Ayala Moriel
1000Flowers Fleur No. 1, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.

I joined the celebration of launching Jessica’s line at Lark boutique on Main St. tonight (July 14th), where she recounted her inspiration for the scent – spending last spring in Nelson, BC, she had to stray away from her originally planned first floral (a sunny, Mediterranean perfume that echoes the landscape of her new home in Grasse), and instead found inspiration in the moment – the melting snow, new buds and leaves and wild violets growing on the mountains of interior British Columbia, where she grew up. There is something to be said about embracing the moment.

photo by Ayala Moriel
photo, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.

Canadian Perfumers by Ayala Moriel
Canadian Perfumers, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.
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