Mona di Orio - Ambre (Les Nombres d’Or)

I was instantly smitten with Cuir and Musc, the other two Les Nombres d’Or perfiumes by Mona di Orio. It took me several more wearings to fully warm up to Ambre, probably because in a collection as full of assertive amber fragrances as mine, this one seemed a bit more quiet and understated. It's not that I didn't enjoy it, but di Orio's Ambre felt almost pastel-like when I'm more of a jewel-tone person.

Ambre is very powdery. Really really powdery.The opening smells soapy in the best possible way- like the most  romantic retro Parisian boudoir, or at least my personal interpretation/fantasy of one. Gorgeous textiles, elaborate furniture and a floor-to-ceiling window that lets in a glimpse of the beautiful building across the street. Heliotrope isn't listed among the official notes (cedar, ylang ylang, benzoin, tolu, vanilla), but wearing Ambre indoors gives me that almondy impression that often characterizes this note. Most of the time, though, it's just a soft blend of exquisite wood and vanilla- not too sweet and always in perfectly good taste.

Maybe that's the problem. It's no secret that just about any Mona di Orio perfume is a passionate study of modern animalic accords. Some people can't stand this style, but I'm a devoted fan. These scents are worthy of Joan Holloway, flamenco dancers and royal courtesans, while Ambre is surprisingly well-behaved. A daytime-friendly amber is  a very good idea, though. Personally, I don't mind fumigating my nearest and dearest with the likes of Ambre Sultan, Josef Statkus or L'Air du Desert Marocain, but having a more polite option might do me a world of good.

Ambre by Mona di Orio ($150, 100ml EDT) and the rest of Les Nombres d’Or series are available at Luckyscent on our side of the Atlantic, as well as from lessenteurs.com and Marie Antoinette, Paris (in store only. Apparently Paris doesn't believe in e-commerce). A press sample was provided by the company.

Photo: Corinne's Window, parisbreakfasts.blogspot.com, 2008

Mona di Orio - Musc (Les Nombres d’Or)

Last week I wrote about my dislike for Issey Miyake's L'Eau d'Issey Pour Homme and mentioned that more than anything, I don't want a person's skin to smell like that. I've received a couple of emails asking me in private what I thought skin should smell like. The answer, among many possible others, is Mona Di Orio Musc from her Les Nombres d'Or series.

Mona di Orio is always at her best when creating animalic sensual scents. I know some find them dirty beyond comprehension, but I'm one of those whose skin chemistry neutralizes the beastliest of notes and makes them into cuddly, warm and fuzzy little creatures you want to touch and snuggle. Or maybe we're just delusional and the rest of humanity wishes we'd pack our MKK bell jars and go colonize the moon.

It's not that I don't find Musc (or Mona di Orio's other perfumes) animalic and erotic. I most certainly do, because what's better than warm clean skin that's a little sweet and a little salty? A scent that draws you closer and closer until you feel the heat rising. It's seducing and absolutely gorgeous. There's something a little vanillic  and quite powdery as Musc progresses. The heliotrope is very prominent, but it never turns into marzipan. I have a feeling those who were disappointed with Serge Lutens Louve because it lacked the promised she-wolf would find Mona di Orio's Musc hits the spot perfectly. I love Louve, but next to Musc it's as innocent as Little Red Riding Hood.

Musc and the rest of Mona di Orio's Les Nombres d'Or ($150, 100ml EDT) are available from Luckyscent.

Mona di Orio - Cuir (Les Nombres d’Or)

The best perfume news I heard lately came from Luckyscent/Scent Bar- they now carry the three new Mona di Orio perfumes, Les Nombres d’Or. Of course, it would have been even better if they got the entire line- I'm out of Chamarre and now kicking myself for not buying a bottle when I had a chance. But I can't whine too much when the gorgeous trio is here and readily available.

Cuir is another proof one can never have enough leather fragrances. It stands out even among my cuir-rich perfume wardrobe because like each and every one of Mona di Orio's perfumes, it's breathtakingly animalic. These perfume come alive on skin, develop and morph into shapes, feelings and memories. It is what perfume was supposed to be before the days of scrubbed clean and shower fresh scents. Cuir is everything I hoped it would be: smoky, raunchy, yet civilized. It's not as raw as a caveman or a biker dude, but also not quite the floral lined expensive handbag of Cuir de Russie. Mona's Cuir is urban and just elegant enough to make me feel like a million dollar, but it's also spicy, quirky (cuirky?) and quite out there.

The most important thing here is that Cuir smells really really good. It's glorious- from its opening notes that are on the masculine side with dry (though not tarry) smoke and absinthe to the way it softens and envelopes the skin. The animalic facet is stunning.  The husband's response was "mmmm... dirrrty", so with the right spouse Cuir is definitely sexy. It's softer than Gomma and Cuir Mauresque and doesn't have that new sofa smell of Cuir Ottoman. My sister still found it too much to take, but I adore this perfume style and find it comfortable and easy to wear- just like my DVF wrap dresses that respond and move with my body in the most flattering way without feeling restrictive.

All three Les Nombres d’Or perfumes come as an EDT, but I have no complaints about the lasting power-about 6 hours for Musc, 10 hours for Ambre and Cuir.

Bottom Line: Must love animalics.

Mona di Orio Cuir ($150, 100 ml EDT) and the other Les Nombres d’Or are available from luckyscent.com and its earthly incarnation in Beverly Hills (reviews coming soon. My brilliant scent twin, Tom, loved Musc, of course). My sample came directly from the company.

Photo: George Hoyningen-Huene, 1928

Mona di Orio- Jabu

One of the most interesting aspects of Mona di Orio's perfume is their luminosity. We shouldn't take this for granted because di Orio's creations are not light or easy. These are complex perfumes, rich and full, that do not shy away from heavy animalic accords. None of her seven scents suffers from the modern plague of a flimsy to non-existent base that makes so many fragrances fall apart when you wear them. On the contrary, they take their time and go all the way from sparkling top notes to a full and round base.

Jabu has the same quality. It's a floral-oriental that starts with orange blossom, petit grain and sweet pea. These notes paint an incredibly sunshiny picture, like the first day of summer when the weather is perfect, the sky is so blue you want to touch it and there's a single white puffy cloud floating around. The heart is smooth and voluptuous with  rose damask, ylang ylang and santal amyris.   The sweet ambery drydown is made of Siamese benzoin, plum and myrrh, but I admit it's so well-blended and cohesive I usually can't pick any single note. I just want to dive head first into Jabu's depths and not come up for air.

Jabu means "joy" in Zulu, and there's an African connection here as Mona di Orio dedicated this perfume (and part of the proceeds) to her chosen charity, Orange Babies. This organization provides hope and support to HIV-infected mothers in Africa and their babies.

Jabu and the rest of Mona di Orio's line is available from two European stores that ship internationally: Skins in Amsterdam (shop.skins.nl) and Les Senteurs in London (lessenteurs.com).

Photo of Veruschka wearing Emilio Pucci by Henry Clarke, 1964

Mona di Orio- Oiro

Just like the name implies, Oiro is golden. Big white florals heavy on jasmine and indoles can go horribly wrong or blindingly gorgeous.Mona di Orio has knack for opulent perfumes with an animalic base unlike anything else currently on the market. Her perfumes smell of skin, ripeness and larger than life flower bouquets and are as non-apologetic as anything can be. Oiro illuminates jasmine, just like Carnation is a study of skin and musk. It takes you to some fantasy land where everyone is 80s style glamorous, attending decadent parties all night long and lounge in the shade of cool patios during the day.

Despite the hint of debauchery, Oiro isn't dark and doesn't loom on the skin. It's alive and surprisingly sheer and sparkling. I was expecting the ylang-ylang to go creamy, but instead the vetiver note holds a certain crispness that I find very appealing and makes this Mona di Orio scent easy to wear on a summer day, as long as you don't have an immortelle aversion.

Mona di Orio perfumes are once again losing their US retailer with the closing of Takashimaya. The closing sale is still on until the end of the month (40% off the $180 original price). After that we're left with Les Senteurs in London (they ship worldwide).

Art: Transition by Henry Asencio

Mona di Orio- Nuit Noire

Nuit Noire by Mona di Orio is a seductive scent if there ever was one. A very spicy floral, creamy in parts, heady in others, it speaks of low-cut cocktail dresses carefully chosen to perform a certain magic, sparkly jewels, quick glances over a chilled glass and unspoken promises.

The opening is somewhat awkward, like an introduction before the ice breaks and the conversation flows. It's the spices, I think. Ginger can sometimes be a difficult top note, and Nuit Noire is no exception. If you try it, don't bother with a paper test strip. It wouldn't do the perfume or your nostrils any justice. Instead, take a deep breath, put it on skin and wait for the magic. As soon as the raw animalic notes find their place and their groove, they start enhancing the traditional white flowers and making them perform. It's not delicate and not gentle. These flowers were drawn by Georgia O'Keeffe and have one thing in mind. By the end of the night, someone is getting naked.

Nuit Noire dries down to a sweet musk, somewhat powdery with delicate sweetness. It sits beautifully on the skin, like exquisitely-made lingerie, the kind you buy at a small and exclusive Paris boutique, not from a catalog. It doesn't get any better than this.

Nuit Noire, like the rest of Mona di Orio's perfumes is currently only available from
Les Senteurs in London (they ship worldwide). I bought my bottle when it was still available from Bergdorf Goodman, and it looks like Mona di Orio is coming back to NYC, to Takashimaya this time. Samples and decants can be purchased from The Perfumed Court.

Art: Collar de Perlas by Fabian Perez

Mona di Orio- Carnation

You came to me to open my eyes
your body- to me- a window, a mirror, a glance
you came as the night approaches an owl
to show it at night, to show it all.

And I've learned: There's a name for every crease and eyelash,
for every hair on my exposed flesh,
and the scent of childhood, of glue and pine,
is the fragrance of bodies at night.

If there were any torments- they sailed towards you.
My white sail to your darkness.
Please let me go now, allow me to leave
and kneel on the shore of forgiveness.

from "Prayers of Atonement" by Leah Goldberg. Crudely translated from Hebrew by me.

Carnation by Mona di Orio is not about the flower. The website talks about "the carnation that blooms on a woman's cheek", which makes perfect sense as soon as you actually smell it. It's all about skin, and not necessarily of the freshly showered variety.

There's the scent of a warm skin after a day in the sun. There's the smell of clean bodies under a freshly laundered blanket. Mona di Orio's musky Carnation is both, and it's stunning and addictive, as long as you're ready to deal with a perfume that doesn't smell like anything out of a modern department store. I suspect that once upon a time more perfumes had such elements in them (think of the original, civet-rich, Guerlains), but finding such sensuality in perfume today is very rare.

It might be surprising, but Carnation doesn't really feel raw or wild. It's actually intimate, introspective and somewhat of an introvert. This is what a "skin scent" is all about- it feels soft and tactile, blooms in warmth and while strong and long lasting, it wouldn't announce your comings and goings.

The official notes are bergamot, clove, geranium, ylang ylang, violet, jasmine, precious woods, musk, amber and styrax. But this list doesn't tell much about the way Carnation feels, and it is worlds apart from any other amber-musk scent I can think of. Like each and every Mona di Orio perfume, Carnation must be tested on skin and allowed some time to develop. It doesn't reach the irresistible stage until about an hour into wearing it, which explains why it's such a hard sale.

Mona di Orio fragrances are currently in a very limited distribution, Les Senteurs in London being the only place that ships them. The good news is that according to the MdO website, the perfumes are coming back to New York and will soon be sold at Takashimaya. I can't wait. For now, samples can be obtained through The Perfumed Court. I bought my bottle when it was still available at Bergdorf Goodman.

Here's a wonderful review of Carnation on Perfume Shrine.

Photograph by Erwin Blumenfeld, 1952

Mona di Orio Lux

The good news, I guess, is that this review isn't part of my Lost Perfumes series. The bad news is that at the moment the only place you can buy the Mona di Orio line is Les Senteurs in London. At least they sell online and ship worldwide, which is a big comfort since I'm kicking myself for not buying a backup bottle of Lux.

There's nothing in the list of notes that prepares you for this scent. We've all been through a citrus opening or two and experienced an amber-wood-vanilla drydown before. Sniffing the bottle or spraying a paper strip will not teach you much, either. Like all of Mona di Orio's creations, Lux must be experienced on skin, where it comes alive within seconds. From the luminous lemon top to the rich and dirty vanilla-benzoin, this perfume has a full, sensual body. It's beautiful and feels perfectly put together with just a hint of dirty touch underneath it all.

While Mona di Orio has dedicated Lux to the memory of her mentor, the great Edmond Roundnitska, my own perception links it to very vintage Guerlain: think of an older, more animalic Jicky without the lavender. Last weekend I had a chance to sniff a bottle of Shalimar circa 1940. The juice was in great condition, and even some of the top could be detected. While Lux is a very modern scent, I feel it shares the aesthetics and the "what is perfume" sensibility of yore.

Mona di Orio perfumes (£85.00 for 50 ml) can be purchased from Les Senteurs in the UK, online and in store. I bought my bottle when it was still available at Bergdorf Goodman.

photo of actress Romy Schneider, 1960, from myvintagevogue.com

Mona di Orio Chamarre (and more disturbing news)

The good news is that Chamarré, the new perfume from Mona di Orio, is quite lovely and doesn't have the disturbing opening found in so many of Di Orio's scents*. The bad news is that if you're in the USA, there's no way to buy it (unless one of the few remaining European distributors is willing to ship).

The even worse news is that the only place that still carries the Mona di Orio line here, Spafumerie (2nd Ave. and 48th st, NYC. A must-visit destination), will not be getting Chamarré and according to the SA with whom I spoke today, is most likely to stop offering the other MdO perfumes. The reason? It's a hard sell. Customers just don't get it and are unwilling to give the fragrances the time of the day once they smell the unpleasant opening. The store still has a few bottles of the older perfumes (Lux, Nuit Noire, Carnation, Amyitis and Oiro) and the scented candles, but as of right now, they would not be getting any more.

But back to Chamarre. The opening is very friendly with a burst of lavender and clary sage. The official notes also include aldehyde, but this isn't what you expect from an aldehydic perfume- the ghosts of No. 5 and Arpege are definitely not here. There's just a light and airy burst that keeps the lavender from smelling like a traditional cologne. The first time I wore Chamarre, it made me think of the top notes in Tauer's Reverie, but it might have been just a craving on my side, as the perfumes are nothing alike, despite the herbal aspect.

As the opening wears off, Chamarré becomes much more of a skin scent. The florals are powdery and subdued, I get more violet than rose and it all dries down into an almost fuzzy, nubby texure. It has a musky presence, and just like in Carnation, the result is more than a little carnal. The effect has also reminded me of Frederic Malle's Dans tes Bras (sans earth and mushrooms), though Chamarré is brighter.

I wish Chamarré had a better sillage and was longer lasting. After three hours one risks a neck injury from the nose-to-cleavage action (there was nothing left on my wrists). The leftover scent on my clothes reveals a warm and dry violet, elegant and not too rich. I'm starting to think of is as a violet scent the more I wear it, probably for this reason. My husband tried it once and found it pleasant enough and men-friendly, but nothing to rock his socks. I like it quite a bit and think it could have been more popular than the other di Orio perfumes (personally, I still prefer Carnation), if not for the little problem of marketing and availability.

As I've mentioned in my previous post on the subject, Mona di Orio perfumes are no longer sold at Bergdorf Goodman and Aedes in NYC. If I understand correctly, the problem is not limited to the US and other European distributors have also removed the line from the shelves, though unlike the USA situation it is not confirmed. Liberty London only has Lux, Nuit Noire and Oiro, but Les Senteurs actually has Chamarré in stock, which is a very good sign. If any of my readers know more details, please comment. The MdO web site does not have e-commerce at this time (why? You'd think they'd learn something from Ormonde Jayne, Andy Tauer, Vero Kern and many others. It's not that complicated). It's sad how such a deserving line is getting lost not because of quality, but because of poor marketing and communication from the house and mostly an oversight when it comes to the house's biggest and best potential fan base.

The perfume enthusiasts are online. We read (and write) blogs. We post on message boards and join Facebook groups. We email , we Twit and most of all: we shop online. That is, if you let us.

*My husband's intitial reaction to Nuit Noire on a scent strip was "vile". Then I sprayed it on and he agreed it was beautiful and sexy. Take that, Luca Turin.

Art: Violet Nude by John Keaton

The Mysterious Case Of Mona Di Orio

The latest online kerfuffle among the perfume-obsessed centers around niche brand Mona do Orio. There were some speculations that the house is going out of business, as the bottles were pulled of the shelves and no longer available. On the other hand, Mona di Orio's web site is up, running and lists a new fragrance, Chamarre.

I emailed the Mona di Orio rep as well as Aedes, trying to figure it out. Karl from Aedes confirmed they will no longer carry the brand. Getting a direct answer from the house itself proved to be a bit harder. First, they tried claiming that some of their US retailers do have an online service and that I should look at the MdO website for details, and by the way, did I know they have a new perfume?

Seriously? Head, meet desk.

I sent a second email, pointing them to the fact that out of the three US retailers listed on the Mona di Orio website, two (Bergdorf and Aedes) have officially stopped carrying it, and the third, Spafumerie* in NYC, does not have e-commerce or any mention of MdO. That, at least, got them to admit that, indeed, Mona di Orio no longer has a US outlet. According to Jeroen Oude Sogtoen who corresponded with me, they are now searching for a good distributor.

So there you have it. Mona di Orio is still producing perfumes. It's the selling part that's gotten a bit tricky.

*Spafumerie NYC (on 2nd Ave and 48th st.) seems like a wonderful place worth checking. It's gotten rave reviews from recent visitors, but their website takes you back to 1996 when merchants had their nephews who knew a couple of HTML tags do a little website with a badly taken photo and horrible graphics.

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