Frederic Malle- Le Parfum de Thérèse

Yes, I know everyone is waiting for reviews of the new Frederic Malle, Portrait Of A Lady, but until I get my hands and nose on that one let's talk about one of the greatest beauties of all times, a perfume that in many ways shaped the Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums line.

While Le Parfum de Thérèse was launched by Malle in 2000 it was conceived decades before as one of the most romantic perfumes of all times. Master perfumer Edmond Roudnitska created Therese for his wife- how awesome is that? (I'm still fantasizing about Le Parfum de Gaia, the most perfect amber to ever be created)  It's wonderfully clear Roudnitska has put all of his creativity and love into this one. He composed a perfume that feels as though it could have been the crown jewel of his classic Dior perfumes- the haute couture version, perhaps.

On paper or in theory, I never expected to love Le Parfum de Thérèse- fruit notes (plum and the dreaded melon), an aquatic accord, assorted flowers- mostly jasmine and rose and a wood/leather base underneath it all. It sounds like a recipe for a spectacular hot mess, but then again, so does Roudnitska's Diorella, which I love (in its original pre-reformulation form). In reality, the beauty of the composition reaches me from the very beginning. The fruit is a lot more plum than anything else and the melon is not really melony- it's about the impression of sweet ripeness along with every sexual connotation of which you may think. The fruit alone could have made the perfume heavy and cloying, and combining it with big flower notes is one risky move. But the rose is quiet and thin and the jasmine is among the most gorgeous of its kind. Indolic? Not on my skin, but it is fleshy and sensual. Now, what is referred as the aquatic accord is woven carefully into the silky fabric of Therese. I don't get any of the stomach turning notes that usually accompany such a thing (hello, Un Jardin Apres la Mousson). It's light and cool air more than water- there's movement somewhere in there, which balances the other notes and opens them up.

The beauty of the top and heart notes is built on an exquisite base- it feels like a chypre but a modern one in the sense it doesn't poke you in the ribs with an oakmoss-patchouli stick. Don't get me wrong: I love the grand chypres of yore and few things irk me as labeling anything with patchouli as a modern chypre. But here in Therese, a 1950s composition, I've found the true meaning of that term. It's smooth, rich and obviously leans heavily on classic perfumery traditions, but the way the fragrance moves, breaths and develops doesn't suggest "vintage" at all.

Le Parfum de Thérèse is a glorious summer day but also wears amazingly well with tailored coats and knee-high stiletto boots. This Malle/Roudnitska marvel is always right. It's a celebration of optimism and love, and in my mind would make a wonderful wedding perfume for any gender.

Le Parfum de Thérèse ($95 3x10ml travel refills) is available at Barneys and Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums boutiques around the world.

Model wearing a Dior cocktail dress by F.C. Gundlach, Paris, 1962

Vetiver Extraordinaire Shower Gel- Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums

I have all these girly, feminine shower gels and creams- vanilla, lavender-vanilla, citrus-vanilla, cinnamon-vanilla...You get the picture. Then there are the figs, roses and honey. But the one I find myself loving the most lately is the husband's Vetiver Extraordinaire Shower Gel from Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums, based on the Dominique Ropion perfume by the same name.

It's sharp, bitter, has no frilly notes and yet feels utterly luxurious. There's a moment the peppery opening blooms in the hot shower air and transforms it into a spa (if spas had a cat or two perching between the shower curtain and liner, and another one keeping your towels warm). The ozonic note is perfect here, contributing to that clean, airy feeling and probably keeping the earthiness of vetiver at bay- this is a shower gel, after all.

While only a whiff is left on skin 10 minutes after toweling off, the best part of this Frederic Malle product is how it makes my skin feel: normal. No tightness or dryness at all, which as far as I'm concerned is pure magic. The husband (let's not forget the rightful owner of the bottle) is perfectly happy with the cleaning performance (antiperspirant removal), so everyone is happy.

Bottom line: I wish they sold it in gallons. I need to try the one in Bigarade Concentree.

Vetiver Extraordinaire Shower Gel by Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums ($75, 200 ml) is available from Barneys and Freceric Malle boutiques. Speaking of Barneys, they have a typo on their web site "Vetiver Extraodinaire"- an R is missing there. The funny thing is that other websites (shopping aggregators, mostly) have picked this typo and copied it all over the net.

shower gel mage: editionsdeparfums.com
screen captures: Barneys

Noir Epices- Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums

Many of the fragrances in Frederic Malle's Editions de Parfums line have a very modern "non-perfumy" feel. It applies to just about everything in the line- from Jean Claude Elena's sparse and airy creations to the naughty things Maurice Roucel does on one's skin. These are the examples I'd use to explain modern perfumery to someone who doesn't follow the industry.

Noir Epices definitely smells like a perfume. And a big one, at that. But it doesn't belong with the other rosy Frederic Malle fragrances (Lipstick Rose, Une Rose and also Iris Poudre, which has a different violet-rose thing going). Even those who aren't big on rose scents (like me) would admit that they often have a certain joyous beauty, le vie en rose, a lighthearted touch. Noir Epices, as the name hints, doesn't play this game. Actually, it doesn't play at all. Even the spiced orange accord that could have been singing about cozy rooms at Christmastime has a different vibe than you'd expect. It smells good but it ain't pretty.

There's a lot of darkness here. The perfumer, Michel Roudnitska, has created a very serious, heavy hearted scent. Even at its most glorious moments, where the black rose is being lit from the inside by the spicy fire or when it all melds into a beautiful woody core, it is never uplifting. Noir Epices carries the heaviness of being. It isn't mopey, not at all, and wouldn't do for a pity party, because it completely lacks a comforting aspect one would at the end of such a day (or a night). It has many good moments and I keep going through samples, unable to resist the darkness. But have yet to feel a need for an actual bottle in my collection. It would feel like giving in. Or giving up.

Picture: Amanda Holding A Rose by Eddie O'Bryan

Frederic Malle Vetiver Extraordinaire

This time of the year I tend to frequently invade my husband's side of the perfume cabinet. The muggy weather calls for dry woods, incense and crispy vetiver, either separately or blended together. Frederic Malle's Vetiver Extraordinaire offer both woods and vetiver, it manages to be both green(ish) and dry, and the linearity- a "what you smell is what you get (until the next morning)" makes it easy to wear and refreshing.

The official notes are bergamot, bigarade orange, pink pepper, nutmeg, floralozone, Haitian vetiver, sandalwood, cedarwood, oakmoss, myrrh, cashmeran wood and musk. The ozonic molecule elluded me until I smelled the Vetiver Extraordinaire body wash (a wonderful product in its own right). That was when I fully got it- it's not an airy/aquatic smell, but an uplifting "charged air" kind of thing, very subtle, which adds another dimension to this otherwise earthy scent.

For my husband it's an easy go-to scent. He wears it for business meetings and sale presentations and feels it gives him an extra touch of confidence. I know what he means. While vetiver is a rooty, green note, I've always felt it has a cool, stone-like facet. It can be green but also has a gray, urban feel, which makes it a great "first, we take Manhattan" cologne.

Vetiver Extraordinaire might be quite masculine (and when I wear it in colder weather it almost makes me feel like an intruder), but the extreme heat and humidity soften it on my skin. I get a whispery floral note in its heart, together with a green citrus veil that stays with me for long hours. The edge is almost taken away and the result is actually (dare I say it?) pretty, which is why I'd urge even the girliest among us to give VE a chance.

Vetiver Extraordinaire (like all Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums fragrances and body products) is available from Barneys in store and online, as well as from editionsdeparfums.com.

art: Black Shoe by Craig Stephens

Frederic Malle French Lover (Bois d'Orage)

Wearing French Lover is the closest I can ever get to that "borrowing a man's white shirt" idea, considering my resident man is over 8" taller than me and wearing his shirts is not a good fashion move. At least his colognes tend to fit me well. I got him a bottle of the French version directly from Frederic Malle's website because the renaming of a scent for our market seemed a bit stupid. And the American name, Bois d'Orage, doesn't make much sense, except for the "bois" part, I guess. A wood after a storm is supposed to feel humid and thick, while French Lover is actually so dry it almost crackles when you spray it.

I never had a French lover, so I'm not sure what they smell like. Is it a mixture of angelica, pimento, galbanum, iris, bay rum, clove, cardamom, juniper, cedar, oakmoss, frankincense, patchouli and vetiver (these are the official notes)? Do they start medicinal and end with that cedar band aid drydown? To me, French Lover is mostly about frankincense and wood with just a hint of oakmoss. Not enough to declare it a chypre, but it does make me wonder where Frederic Malle and Pierre Bourdon (who created this scent) stand on IFRA and reformulations.

I wear several wood and vetiver perfumes that are considered masculine. They feel purposeful and I like them on those mornings I need an extra push to start my day. French Lover is a bit softer and friendlier, and as Nathan Branch noted earlier today, it's very comfortable to wear. We didn't really coordinate this, but I also have been marinating in the fragrance and sprayed myself from head to toe. It's pretty impossible to overdo it. French Lover melds with the skin and doesn't attack people around you. The crisp dryness is especially pleasant in this hot and humid weather.

Is it really about sex? I don't know, but is it sure works better than the mushroomy Dans tes Bras.

French Lover by Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums is sold in Barneys under the name Bois d'Orage ($200, 100 ml).

Photo: Calm Before The Storm by Sara*Teresa

Top 10 Memorable Masculine Fragrances

In honor of Father's Day, Elena of Perfume Shrine and I wanted to honor men and the scents they wear.

Fathers, spouses, old boyfriends, scent twins- they all have one thing in common: they (and us) create memories. Nothing is more emotionally triggering than scent. Think of your father's old cologne from the 70s (did he wear Old Spice? Did he later graduated to the original Polo?) or the Drakkar Noir of your first boyfriend. Did you ever date a man who wore Creed Green Irish Tweed and made you think of Cary Grant (the story is that GIT was created for him)? Did your little brother drench himself in Axe before his first date? Maybe you had a great teacher or work mentor who used to wear Grey Flannel, or had your heart broken by a Chanel Égoïste fan (I did). The point is that it's not just our Shalimar that creates special moments.

Things have changed since the days of the ubiquitous bottle of Polo, and the choices are many. Here's my list of (very) memorable masculine scents for the unforgettable men in our lives. In no particular order:

1. Tauer Perfumes-Lonestar Memories
Smoky, strong and outdoorsy at times, warm leather, herbal with a hint of Lapsang Souchong. More interesting and sophisticated than the cowboy image.

2. Tom Ford Private Blend-Tuscan Leather
Soft, smooth and as leathery as they come. Warm and inviting, evokes both a leather jacket and an old study full with leather-bound books.

3. Mazzolari-Lui
An animalic patchouli like no other. Sweet and dangerous (especially if over-applied).

4. Serge Lutens-Gris Clair
Burnt lavender. A bit brooding, yet clean and crisp.

5. Guerlain-Vetiver
A great classic. Citrus top over green vetiver. Perfectly tasteful.

6. Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier-Iris Bleu Gris
Dry to the bone, earthy without being dirty.

7. JAR-Shadow
Damp and mysterious. A visit to dark cellars and forgotten attics.

8. Frederic Malle-Vetiver Extraordinaire
Dry and bitter vetiver, yet still green. A scent to take over the boardroom before going out to take Manhattan.

9. Hermes-Terre d'Hermes
Perhaps the most popular in this bunch, yet somewhat controversial. Orange peel and minerals, crisp and strong.

10. Comme des Garcons-Monocle Scent One: Hinoki
Incense, evergreens, a forest floor.

Please visit Perfume Shrine for more unforgettable masculine fragrances.

Frederic Malle Geranium Pour Monsieur- First Impression

The Blond and I dropped by Barneys yesterday, hoping to get a first sniff of the new Frederic Malle, Géranium Pour Monsieur (a Dominique Ropion creation). The perfume hasn't launched yet and will not be available until the second week of June, but the SA (you'll need to go downstairs to the Beauty floor. It's not at the Men's department yet) had a tester in the back room.

She has warned us that Géranium Pour Monsieur needs time to develop, because the story here is the drydown. She was right. The opening is uncomfortably minty. More chewing gum than what you'd expect from a fine fragrance. For a few dreadful moments I thought it was going to be like the stomach-turning Cartier Roadster, especially on the husband's skin. I generally don't like mint in perfume and this was no exception, though it's not really bad, just too fresh for my taste. It's cool and airy, but thankfully not aquatic or ozonic, and the mint morphs into other herbal notes within 10-15 minutes.

The geranium note was more abstract than anticipated. I thought it would be similar to Miller Harris Geranium Bourbon, which is sunny and rosy. But Géranium Pour Monsieur stays cool and somewhat aloof. It gives the impression of a pale mint-colored space, if that makes any sense. This is the most masculine part of the scent, with a clean, slightly spicy (clove? it's a bit medicinal and continues the dental hygiene theme from the opening) herbal cleanliness. I was nearly ready to write it off when it made a turn for the better, on my skin more than on the Blond's.

The drydown was very pleasant. A musky, clean skin scent (that's what I wanted from Dans tes Bras) mixed with a note that made me think of a white-washed wood. It was a bit like smelling Bois d'Orage/French Lover from afar. It got better and better with time, and lasted for hours on my skin, but faded relatively quickly on my husband. I think the base of Géranium Pour Monsieur is quite unisex, in a clean, friendly way. It feels like an ideal summer scent, and while at first I didn't think it's all that great and definitely not a must-have, it has grown on me the longer it stayed on, and one day later I find myself still thinking of it.

Image: Mint Spring I by Elena Filatov from allposterscom

Sniffed Around Town

(For the 2008 Perfume Retrospective, please see yesterday's post)

I've been revisiting a few previously-sniffed scents at the usual NYC haunts. These are not full reviews as I haven't (yet?) bothered with samples and full wearing under different circumstances, unless noted. Just impressions.

Chanel Beige- (part of the Les Exclusifs range and only available from Saks flagship in the city). The first time I tried it, I commented that it just doesn't go with my hair. It was too floral, too Chanel, too Upper East Side. Totally not me. It's still isn't, but I sort of get it now. Apparently, Muffy Sloan-McPrep has been skipping some Junior League meetings because she's having steamy randezvous with her tennis instructor. And she's invested in some killer shoes.

Champaca Absolute (Tom Ford Private Blend)- I didn't expect to like this one. A biggish floral with some fruit in it (plum?) is not my normal thing. But like many of the other ones in the line, it melds with my skin and becomes smooth and musky (in a good way). It doesn't screech or does weird gestures, so while I probably don't need to have it (unlike Tobacco Vanille and Purple Patchouli), I would wear it happily if the stork drops it at my door (what? storks bring the oddest things to this house).

Fleur de Liane (L'Artisan Parfumeur)- I really shouldn't have bothered with this one, as it's everything I hate. A sheer green aquatic with more than a hint of melon. I don't always assign colors to scents, but this one is a poisonous, radioactive aqua. While Fleur de Liane is a Bertrand Duchaufour creation, I can practically hear Jean Claude Ellena cackling behind the scene.

Aedes de Venustas Eau de Parfum (created by L'Artisan)- Another Duchaufour, this time a pretty nice one. On my skin and to my nose it's cool, clean incense, very similar to Heeley Cardinal and CdG Avignon. I liked it better as a room spray or on my husband, though he was not impressed.

Amouage Lyric For Women- Yes, please.
Gorgeous, sexy, rosy, spicy, woodsy. Lasts forever. It's the very late drydown that I'm not yet sure about. It loses some of the mouthwatering quality for more wood. Still beautiful, though.

Carnation (Mona Di Orio)- I think I can live without it, after all. This one must be tested and re-tested on skin, as what you get on a scent strip would lead you to pull a Luca Turin and hate hate hate it. My skin loves it, most of the time. Occasionally it turns into something boring and bland like a low-grade musk. Other times it's lovely.

Dans tes Bras (Frederic Malle)- Either they tinkered with the formula since I first smelled the tester in June (long before it was released, so everything's possible), or my skin really does a number on this. The sprayed card I got in Paris retained its powdery scent for days, while on my skin (and practically everyone else's) things have mellowed down considerably and it's not that heavy on heliotrope, either. I've been known to kill violets, so maybe it was to be expected. In any case, Dans tes Bras is a pleasant skin scents, suffers from longevity issues and a mushroomy accord, and smells a lot better in the open air than indoors. Like, but don't love.

Oriental Brulant (Guerlain)- The only one out of the three Elixirs I like. The problem? My skin makes it very very sweet. Even Isaac, the cutest SA at Saks 5th Avenue had to comment on this. The drydown is so Shalimar-like (just without the interesting parts) when I wear it that it's more than a little redundant, especially at $250 per bottle.

White Patchouli (Tom Ford)- No can do. The rose-jasmine combo in the middle turns sour on my skin every time I try.

Sycomore (Chanel)- The one Exclusif that might just force me to break my resolve against family-sized bottles and actually buy one. It's a beautiful, smoky vetiver with an ethereal quality that keeps it from becoming too butch (not that it ever stopped me before. I can't keep away from the Blond's Vetiver Extraordinaire, Route de Vetiver or his Guerlain). Want.


Photo of Saks 5th Avenue: Voted Off The Island

Frederic Malle Editions de Parfums: Musc Ravageur

What makes a perfume sexy?

When I was very young, I felt it was all about the big chypres. I wore Paloma Picasso and Eau de Soir (the potent, pre-reformulation stuff) and felt ready to take on the world and every man in it. From there, I moved on to big floriental, especially with a rich vanilla and/or amber base. Tiffany, Panthere de Cartier and Jil Sander no. 4 were my equivalent and accompaniment to black lace and a push-up bra. I'll put Tom Ford Black Orchid in this category with my old favorites. It definitely feels right at home there.

Then I discovered musks, leathers, sophisticated vanillas and the femme fatale of them all, Shalimar.

Musks are weird creatures. There are the so-called dirty ones (Miller Harris L'Air de Dien, Serge Lutens MKK and CB Musk Reinvention, all turn into sweet cuddly creatures on my skin), the pretty ones (Serge Lutens Clair de Musc, safe to wear at any and every situation, layers beautifully with other SL scents), the ones to which I'm completely anosmic (SJP Lovely, Escentric Molecules, Narciso Rodriguez and most Egyptian musks I ever came across) and then there are the sweet, often gourmand ones, where musk is paired with vanilla, almond (Leah St. Bart) or cocoa (Musc Maori). They are regarded as comfort scents just as often (if not more) than they are considered sexy. And yet, we all have heard how men prefer gourmand in general and vanilla in particular. There's the legend of Shalimar and other Guerlains with their sweet tonka base, and there must be a reason young women who came of age in the 90s and later consider smelling "yummy" an advantage in the men-alluring arena, and translate it to smelling like cupcakes.

This is the reality into which Musc Ravageur was born.

From the name it is clear what was on Maurice Roucel's mind when he created Musc Ravageur for Editions de Parfum Frederic Malle. It belongs to the same school of thought as Shalimar: An oriental with a sharp, bracing opening that softens up and goes seductively smooth and rich, and on the right skin makes the elves sing (think Lord of the Rings, just with very little clothes. Thank me later for the mental image).

The reason it's supposed to be so sexy and bone jumping ready is the way Musc Ravageur quickly turns into a velvety skin scent. The foody elements aren't about dessert, but they would make you want to bury your nose in some skin, just because it's that pleasant. But is it really about sex? Is this what you're supposed to wear for a steamy night?

I find that Musc Ravageur develops better and is sexier on warmer skin, either in hot weather or in a well-heated room. Otherwise, the cedar and sandalwood are more prominent than the vanilla (not that there's anything wrong with it). If there's one thing I'm not smelling here is musk, but there's plenty of other stuff to enjoy, and the overall result is pleasurable and satisfying, so I guess that, yes, this is a sexy scent.

But I still find Shalimar more daring.

The official notes are:
Top Notes- Lavender, Bergamot.
Middle Notes- Clove, Cinnamon.
Base Notes- Gaiac wood, Cedar, Sandalwood, Vanilla, Tonka, Musk




Photo and clip: From Here to Eternity (1953).

Frederic Malle Editions de Parfum scents are exclusive to Barneys in the USA (I got mine at the NYC store) and can also be ordered online from the company's web site. The 3X10 ml travel spray package ($85) is my favorite. I wish more companies would offer this option instead of big bottles with more juice than I could use in three lifetimes.

New Frederic Malle Perfume By Maurice Roucel

An American Blogger in Paris, Part 1: Stumbling Upon a Scoop

Imagine this: An eager blogger and her long suffering husband are vacationing in Paris. Naturally, they visit every perfume boutique and most beauty stores on both sides of the Seine River (see long suffering husband, above), including the Frederic Malle Edition de Parfum store, where they play with their favorites, discover new ones, and chat with a charming sales assistant who tells them that a new perfume is coming out soon!

The new release, Dans tes Bras (in your arms) was composed by Maurice Roucel, the nose behind my beloved Musc Ravageur and other gorgeous scents (Hermes 24 Faubourg, Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist, Bond no.9 New Haarlem).

It continues the sensual theme of Musc Ravageur, though it's meant to be a little more subtle (don't ask me. On my skin, Musc is a cuddly comfort scent). The notes are: bergamot, cloves, violet, jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, frankincense, cashmeran, heliotrope, white musk.

I didn't have any skin space left, so my experience is through a scent card (what? It's good enough for Luca Turin), which some 16 hours later is still radiating with the fragrance. It's lovely, though heliotrope haters would probably object to the powderiness. It feels like a classic French scent and I'm not entirely sure how steamy it is, but I like it nonetheless.

Dans tes Bras will be available in the US in October 2008.

Photos: The Non Blonde