I put Cuir de Russie on to confirm, one more time, that I love it. And I do, though I'm realizing that I may not love it in the summer.
The weather is warmer and days are longer than the last time I wore it, and that produces a substantial change. The top notes are sharper and higher-pitched, and the animalic notes are less delightful. (Bringing me back to the Vole Theory.) And it's strong - one spray is producing a substantial leather and iris cloud around me, making Chanel's monster bottle size even more problematic.
But I still want it. It's really only a matter of time.
(Who's that in the photo, you ask? Ernest Beaux, the original perfumer.)
Review Roundup: Is here.
Photo: Wikimedia Commons.
This blog is for rambling about, well, everything that interests me. Gardening. The Farm. Perfume. Fashion. Photography. Fried chicken. Books. Clutter. Hoarding. Sewing. Writing. Murder Mysteries. Bacon. TV. Movies. Restaurants. Cooking. Oh, and don't forget the cat pictures.
Showing posts with label Iris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iris. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
SOTD: Chanel Cuir de Russie (Les Exclusifs, EDT)
After only two wearings, Chanel Cuir de Russie is well on its way to being one of Those Scents - the scents at the core of my wardrobe, the ones that make me smell like me. I want some. The only question is whether I'm eventually getting a decant or a bottle, and how soon I can budget it.
I'm surprised that I feel comfortable in this scent. The elegance, the presence, the self-assured mood - none of that seems as if it should fit my nervous and rumpled self. But if I stop thinking about it, it just slips on, a perfect fit.
Review Roundup: Is here.
Photo: By Cszmurlo. Wikimedia Commons.
I'm surprised that I feel comfortable in this scent. The elegance, the presence, the self-assured mood - none of that seems as if it should fit my nervous and rumpled self. But if I stop thinking about it, it just slips on, a perfect fit.
Review Roundup: Is here.
Photo: By Cszmurlo. Wikimedia Commons.
Labels:
Chanel,
Cuir de Russie,
Ernest Beaux,
Iris,
Jacques Polge,
Perfume,
SOTD
Sunday, January 3, 2010
SOTD: Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist (The iris exploration continues.)
I've been reading about Iris Silver Mist since the beginning of my perfume obsession. I never tried it before now, because I only recently developed a tolerance for iris. But it's all but impossible to follow perfume and remain unaware of this fragrance - people love it, talk about it, compare other iris fragrances to it, scheme how to get their hands on it. My (unsupported by research) impression is that it's the grandmother of modern iris fragrances, unbeaten by any of its progeny.
None of this made me confident that I would like it. I tend to be a philistine when it comes to appreciating the grand and respected. I have yet to develop any fondness for Mitsouko, or Shalimar, or most of the older nobility of the perfume world. So why assume that I'd have any more appreciation for this more modern royal?
The notes list - iris pallida root, galbanum, cedar, sandalwood, clove, vetiver, musk, benzoin, incense, and white amber - didn't make me much more optimistic. While I love galbanum, sandalwood, and cedar, I didn't think that they'd be enough to make me love the more challenging iris, amber, musk, and clove. And I wasn't a big fan of Rochas Tocade, another Maurice Roucel fragrance that's near-universally admired.
But I finally tried it anyway. And was well and thoroughly impressed.
At the start, it doesn't fit my usual impression of iris. Iris tends to be a dignified, civilized, excellent-posture sort of scent. And this starts out as a sort of rough scramble. I can smell the dirt that people mention, and the roots. Dirty, hairy, just-harvested, piled on the ground roots. Not carrots to my nose - not anything remotely edible. Something cold and alien and probably poisonous. It's powdery from the very beginning, but at this stage not a silky ladylike powder, it's more like spiced dirt, or something kicked up during the harvest that perhaps one should not be breathing.
None of this should be taken to say that I dislike the beginning. I like it very much, at least for as long as it lasts. It is, however, challenging enough that I might lose patience with it if it hung on for too much longer.
But it doesn't. It shifts, the dirty rootiness giving way to a smooth, powdery, dignified iris with, yes, excellent posture. And with the pencil eraser smell that I get from iris, adding a bit of an enjoyable joke for me - elegant, ethereal, glowing pencil erasers. It's much sweeter, though I can't quite place where the sweetness comes from - the wood? The amber?
Most people read this fragrance as cold, and the name certainly suggests that the chilliness was intended. To me, only the first stage is cold - those tumbled dirty roots were wrestled out of frozen ground. But as it grows sweeter, it also grows warmer, and now, a few hours in, it's no cooler than a shaded spot in late spring.
It's beautiful, I can say objectively. I would wear it often. It's certainly full bottle worthy. But I don't find myself desperately working through the problem of how to get my hands on it. (It's another Lutens non-export.) I can wait. Which means, I think, that I'm not in love.
Review Roundup: Now Smell This and Bois de Jasmin and Perfume-Smellin' Things and PereDePierre and Feminine Things and Fragrantica and MakeupAlley and Basenotes and PerfumeQueen and MossyLoomings and Pink Manhattan and ScentSate and fragrancefanatic.
Image: Wikimedia Commons.
None of this made me confident that I would like it. I tend to be a philistine when it comes to appreciating the grand and respected. I have yet to develop any fondness for Mitsouko, or Shalimar, or most of the older nobility of the perfume world. So why assume that I'd have any more appreciation for this more modern royal?
The notes list - iris pallida root, galbanum, cedar, sandalwood, clove, vetiver, musk, benzoin, incense, and white amber - didn't make me much more optimistic. While I love galbanum, sandalwood, and cedar, I didn't think that they'd be enough to make me love the more challenging iris, amber, musk, and clove. And I wasn't a big fan of Rochas Tocade, another Maurice Roucel fragrance that's near-universally admired.
But I finally tried it anyway. And was well and thoroughly impressed.
At the start, it doesn't fit my usual impression of iris. Iris tends to be a dignified, civilized, excellent-posture sort of scent. And this starts out as a sort of rough scramble. I can smell the dirt that people mention, and the roots. Dirty, hairy, just-harvested, piled on the ground roots. Not carrots to my nose - not anything remotely edible. Something cold and alien and probably poisonous. It's powdery from the very beginning, but at this stage not a silky ladylike powder, it's more like spiced dirt, or something kicked up during the harvest that perhaps one should not be breathing.
None of this should be taken to say that I dislike the beginning. I like it very much, at least for as long as it lasts. It is, however, challenging enough that I might lose patience with it if it hung on for too much longer.
But it doesn't. It shifts, the dirty rootiness giving way to a smooth, powdery, dignified iris with, yes, excellent posture. And with the pencil eraser smell that I get from iris, adding a bit of an enjoyable joke for me - elegant, ethereal, glowing pencil erasers. It's much sweeter, though I can't quite place where the sweetness comes from - the wood? The amber?
Most people read this fragrance as cold, and the name certainly suggests that the chilliness was intended. To me, only the first stage is cold - those tumbled dirty roots were wrestled out of frozen ground. But as it grows sweeter, it also grows warmer, and now, a few hours in, it's no cooler than a shaded spot in late spring.
It's beautiful, I can say objectively. I would wear it often. It's certainly full bottle worthy. But I don't find myself desperately working through the problem of how to get my hands on it. (It's another Lutens non-export.) I can wait. Which means, I think, that I'm not in love.
Review Roundup: Now Smell This and Bois de Jasmin and Perfume-Smellin' Things and PereDePierre and Feminine Things and Fragrantica and MakeupAlley and Basenotes and PerfumeQueen and MossyLoomings and Pink Manhattan and ScentSate and fragrancefanatic.
Image: Wikimedia Commons.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
SOTD: Parfumerie Generale Cuir d'Iris
This is lovely. I'm sightly deflated by the knowledge that I can't justify buying this and Iris Oriental and Cuir de Russie. I love all three, and love them differently, but there are just too many common elements. Aren't there?
The beginning is dominated by leather, a particularly standoffish version of the note. I imagine thick, stiff, heavily treated leather - a saddle, perhaps, not a comfortable chair or a fluid pair of gloves. There's an "off" note in it, one that I like at the same time that I find it challenging. Others have referred to the leather as "harsh", and while I wouldn't argue with them, that's not quite how I read it. To my nose, it's just a little odd, as if the leather in my nose's imagination was treated with a slightly non-standard set of tanning potions, or came from an unusual animal.
Checking the notes to see if I can solve the mystery, I see cardamom, iris old black, leather, woods, vetiver, Rhizophora tannin, amber, and incense. Maybe the Rhizophora tannin is the odd note that I can't nail down? (And what is iris old black? The root of a specific variety of iris or, as someone suggests, aged iris root? Or, as someone else listed the notes, did they really mean "old black leather"? Puzzles.)
As the scent develops, the leather steps back and the iris and amber come forward. It becomes quieter, a little powdery, and just a little bit sweeter, though I'd call it pretty dry at all stages. It's dignified, but not over-formal. I like this stage best - the wafts as I move are very satisfying.
The end reminds me of an observation made by Judith Martin (Miss Manners) about ice cream sodas: "The great paradox here - and fine art is full of ironic contradictions - is that the soda begins to disappear just as it reaches its perfect state." Just as Cuir d'Iris became a perfect wafty mix of powdery iris, sweet amber, and the faintest echo of rich leather, it was gone. There's no trace, even sniffing right on the skin of my arm. Longevity isn't usually an issue for me - and it did last a good several hours - but I want more time with that perfect state.
Even so, if I were looking for an all day every day scent, this is one of the scents with the right characteristics. It's not too dry, not too sweet, and it shows gentle changes over time. Most importantly, it's one of the scents that give me the feeling that I smell nice - that my skin has somehow started to exude a lovely combination of iris and leather and incense. The scents that feel like they're part of me are a better candidate for that single scent than the scents that I'm very conscious of "wearing" as a decorative top coat over my skin.
Of course, that's all just moot musing, because there is no chance that I'll settle for one scent. But I like to maintain a mental list all the same.
Review Roundup: PereDePierre and The Non-Blonde and Basenotes and Nathan Branch and Perfume Patter.
Illustration: Wikimedia Commons.
The beginning is dominated by leather, a particularly standoffish version of the note. I imagine thick, stiff, heavily treated leather - a saddle, perhaps, not a comfortable chair or a fluid pair of gloves. There's an "off" note in it, one that I like at the same time that I find it challenging. Others have referred to the leather as "harsh", and while I wouldn't argue with them, that's not quite how I read it. To my nose, it's just a little odd, as if the leather in my nose's imagination was treated with a slightly non-standard set of tanning potions, or came from an unusual animal.
Checking the notes to see if I can solve the mystery, I see cardamom, iris old black, leather, woods, vetiver, Rhizophora tannin, amber, and incense. Maybe the Rhizophora tannin is the odd note that I can't nail down? (And what is iris old black? The root of a specific variety of iris or, as someone suggests, aged iris root? Or, as someone else listed the notes, did they really mean "old black leather"? Puzzles.)
As the scent develops, the leather steps back and the iris and amber come forward. It becomes quieter, a little powdery, and just a little bit sweeter, though I'd call it pretty dry at all stages. It's dignified, but not over-formal. I like this stage best - the wafts as I move are very satisfying.
The end reminds me of an observation made by Judith Martin (Miss Manners) about ice cream sodas: "The great paradox here - and fine art is full of ironic contradictions - is that the soda begins to disappear just as it reaches its perfect state." Just as Cuir d'Iris became a perfect wafty mix of powdery iris, sweet amber, and the faintest echo of rich leather, it was gone. There's no trace, even sniffing right on the skin of my arm. Longevity isn't usually an issue for me - and it did last a good several hours - but I want more time with that perfect state.
Even so, if I were looking for an all day every day scent, this is one of the scents with the right characteristics. It's not too dry, not too sweet, and it shows gentle changes over time. Most importantly, it's one of the scents that give me the feeling that I smell nice - that my skin has somehow started to exude a lovely combination of iris and leather and incense. The scents that feel like they're part of me are a better candidate for that single scent than the scents that I'm very conscious of "wearing" as a decorative top coat over my skin.
Of course, that's all just moot musing, because there is no chance that I'll settle for one scent. But I like to maintain a mental list all the same.
Review Roundup: PereDePierre and The Non-Blonde and Basenotes and Nathan Branch and Perfume Patter.
Illustration: Wikimedia Commons.
Friday, January 1, 2010
SOTD: Parfumerie Generale Iris Oriental (Formerly Taizo)
I just wore perfume again! I just enjoyed it, minus analysis.
My perfume work ethic has fallen apart. I can't tell you a single new thing about Iris Oriental, except that I like it even more than I did before.
(Updated!) Review Roundup: Is here.
Slacker Kitty picture by Clavecin. Wikimedia Commons.
My perfume work ethic has fallen apart. I can't tell you a single new thing about Iris Oriental, except that I like it even more than I did before.
(Updated!) Review Roundup: Is here.
Slacker Kitty picture by Clavecin. Wikimedia Commons.
Labels:
Cat Picture,
Iris,
Iris Oriental,
Iris Taizo,
Parfumerie Generale,
Perfume,
Pierre Guillaume,
SOTD
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
SOTD: Chanel Cuir de Russie (Les Exclusifs, EDT)
I had high expectations of Cuir de Russie. It's fulfilled them. I want some and I want it now.
This one has been discussed and described so well in so many reviews - see the roundup down there? - that I have nothing new to offer. But that won't stop me.
To my nose, it's all about leather - elegant, fine leather. Soft gloves and well-used bags and well-aged leather upholstery. Upholstery in a luxurious and well-aged car, the kind that ambles along at a deceptively decorous pace until its owner suddenly decides to show off the engine, and then the car is quietly gone with barely a puff of smoke to mark where it was. That kind of leather.
Iris takes second billing. I didn't take to iris immediately, back when I started on this perfume freakery path. I disliked it, and then I tolerated it, and I'm finally learning to like it. I definitely like it here, even the nuts-and-pencil-erasers beginning.
And am I actually liking amber? There's a powdery sweetness late in the development that's lovely, mixed with vanilla. So, maybe I am.
There are other things in here. According to The Perfumed Court, the top notes are orange blossom, bergamot, mandarin, and clary sage, the middle notes are iris, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, and vetiver, and the base notes are styrax, leather, amber, and vanilla. I'm not getting even one of the floral and fresh notes. But that's all the more reason to try this one again and again, until I do get them.
But all that is just about how it smells, not how it feels. It feels luxurious. Elegant. Self-assured; it's not the least bit eager to please. This isn't a woman that works and frets to be beautiful; it's a woman who's blessed with beauty and elegance without even trying, and accepts those blessings as her due. Not an altogether likable character, perhaps, but you still can't look away.
Review Roundup: Bois de Jasmin and Now Smell This and PereDePierre and 1000 Fragrances and One Thousand Scents and Grain de Musc and Perfume Shrine and Fragrantica and Basenotes and Suite101 and MakeupAlley and WAFT and Polish, Platforms, Perfume and hortus conclusus and ScentsOfSelf and Perfume Patter and Scent Of The Day.
Link Roundup: Les Tuileries and The Vintage Perfume Vault and hortus conclusus and parfumieren and The Perfume Chronicles.
(Edited to add to the Review Roundup.)
Photo: Wikimedia Commons
This one has been discussed and described so well in so many reviews - see the roundup down there? - that I have nothing new to offer. But that won't stop me.
To my nose, it's all about leather - elegant, fine leather. Soft gloves and well-used bags and well-aged leather upholstery. Upholstery in a luxurious and well-aged car, the kind that ambles along at a deceptively decorous pace until its owner suddenly decides to show off the engine, and then the car is quietly gone with barely a puff of smoke to mark where it was. That kind of leather.
Iris takes second billing. I didn't take to iris immediately, back when I started on this perfume freakery path. I disliked it, and then I tolerated it, and I'm finally learning to like it. I definitely like it here, even the nuts-and-pencil-erasers beginning.
And am I actually liking amber? There's a powdery sweetness late in the development that's lovely, mixed with vanilla. So, maybe I am.
There are other things in here. According to The Perfumed Court, the top notes are orange blossom, bergamot, mandarin, and clary sage, the middle notes are iris, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, and vetiver, and the base notes are styrax, leather, amber, and vanilla. I'm not getting even one of the floral and fresh notes. But that's all the more reason to try this one again and again, until I do get them.
But all that is just about how it smells, not how it feels. It feels luxurious. Elegant. Self-assured; it's not the least bit eager to please. This isn't a woman that works and frets to be beautiful; it's a woman who's blessed with beauty and elegance without even trying, and accepts those blessings as her due. Not an altogether likable character, perhaps, but you still can't look away.
Review Roundup: Bois de Jasmin and Now Smell This and PereDePierre and 1000 Fragrances and One Thousand Scents and Grain de Musc and Perfume Shrine and Fragrantica and Basenotes and Suite101 and MakeupAlley and WAFT and Polish, Platforms, Perfume and hortus conclusus and ScentsOfSelf and Perfume Patter and Scent Of The Day.
Link Roundup: Les Tuileries and The Vintage Perfume Vault and hortus conclusus and parfumieren and The Perfume Chronicles.
(Edited to add to the Review Roundup.)
Photo: Wikimedia Commons
Labels:
Chanel,
Cuir de Russie,
Ernest Beaux,
Fragrance Review,
Iris,
Jacques Polge,
Perfume,
Perfume Review,
Review Roundup,
SOTD
Sunday, November 29, 2009
SOTD: Parfumerie Generale Iris Oriental (Formerly Iris Taizo) and value through association
Last time I tried this one, I disliked the beginning, but I liked the whole package better and better as it developed. This time, I still didn't like the top notes for themselves, but I associate them with the later stages that I do like, so I enjoyed them.
This is a phenomenon that I also experience with Serge Noire. I don't like the beginning - I find it odd and camphorous and watery and over-aggressive at the same time. But I still "like" this stage because I strongly associate it with the later stages, which I adore. I can "smell through" the unpleasant parts, and detect traces of the gorgeous dusty darkness that's coming. To a lesser extent, the same seems to be true of yesterday's Musk, and now of Iris Oriental.
I have a similar reaction to Chanel No. 19 Eau de Parfum and Eau de Toilette - I don't actually like those fragrances, but I love Chanel No. 19 parfum, and the other two strengths remind me of the parfum, so I like them by association. In fact, almost anything with a clearly perceptible galbanum note gets free points by riding Chanel No. 19's coattails, as far as I'm concerned.
I think that the fact that people form mental associations with scents so quickly, including associations with other scents, may make perfume a particularly subjective art form. An objectively beautiful perfume may remind you of a teacher that you hated. A dreadful one may remind you of the aunt that you adored. A rather average one may start with an accord that reminds you of the sweet peas that grew in your favorite place in the world when you were four, and that makes it magnificent for you.
So when am I going to get back to talking about Iris Oriental? Well, this wearing didn't teach me much more than last time, except that, yes, I do like it. Enough to be debating a decant or even a bottle.
Illustration: Wikimedia Commons
This is a phenomenon that I also experience with Serge Noire. I don't like the beginning - I find it odd and camphorous and watery and over-aggressive at the same time. But I still "like" this stage because I strongly associate it with the later stages, which I adore. I can "smell through" the unpleasant parts, and detect traces of the gorgeous dusty darkness that's coming. To a lesser extent, the same seems to be true of yesterday's Musk, and now of Iris Oriental.
I have a similar reaction to Chanel No. 19 Eau de Parfum and Eau de Toilette - I don't actually like those fragrances, but I love Chanel No. 19 parfum, and the other two strengths remind me of the parfum, so I like them by association. In fact, almost anything with a clearly perceptible galbanum note gets free points by riding Chanel No. 19's coattails, as far as I'm concerned.
I think that the fact that people form mental associations with scents so quickly, including associations with other scents, may make perfume a particularly subjective art form. An objectively beautiful perfume may remind you of a teacher that you hated. A dreadful one may remind you of the aunt that you adored. A rather average one may start with an accord that reminds you of the sweet peas that grew in your favorite place in the world when you were four, and that makes it magnificent for you.
So when am I going to get back to talking about Iris Oriental? Well, this wearing didn't teach me much more than last time, except that, yes, I do like it. Enough to be debating a decant or even a bottle.
Illustration: Wikimedia Commons
Labels:
Iris,
Iris Oriental,
Iris Taizo,
Parfumerie Generale,
Perfume,
Pierre Guillaume,
SOTD
Monday, November 23, 2009
SOTD: Parfumerie Generale Iris Oriental (Formerly Iris Taizo)
Today my long-debated and long-awaited bottle of Parfumerie Generale Tubereuse Couture arrived in the mail. So my SOTD is my sample of Parfumerie Generale Iris Oriental, formerly named Iris Taizo. Don't ask me; I don't know. I used to be sane.
The listed notes for this are Guatemalan cardamom, iris, jinkoh wood, fig-tree honey, Mexican vanilla, and balsamic resins. I always wish that whoever writes these notes lists would make a point of specifying "iris root", because that's what "iris" is in perfumes - it has nothing to do with the flower. Somehow, I always forget that, so I always expect an iris perfume to be at least a little floral. At least in this case, nope. No flowers here.
It starts out heavy, dusty, and incense-like, though incense isn't in the listed notes - perhaps it's the cardamom. It's simultaneously dry and very thick. I can smell something inviting at the core, something sweeter and less dusty, and I want to brush all that incense away to get at it.
And that happens naturally - the incense seems to slowly burn away and fade to the background. An hour after application, it was all the same notes, but with the proportions tilted, with the wood facing me, and the whole thing a good deal less dry, though still very far from sweet.
A couple of hours after that, the incense seemed to be back, but an entirely different incense, softer and powdery. I went out to the grocery at this point, and kept walking through a lovely cloud of gentle, dry, lightly powdery oriental, and wheeling around to try to see who produced it. I suspect, in the end, that I was smelling myself. So it seems that I like this, or at least I like the heart and base notes. I'll have to wait for the next wearing to see if the top notes have grown on me.
Review Roundup: Now Smell This and The Non-Blonde and Perfume-Smellin' Things and Fragrantica and Basenotes and Perfume Posse (brief) and Aromascope (brief) and MakeupAlley and Scent of Abricots and Tea, Sympathy, and Perfume and WAFT and parfumieren and Perfume Patter and Beauty on the Outside.
Updated to expand the Review Roundup.
Photo: Mine
The listed notes for this are Guatemalan cardamom, iris, jinkoh wood, fig-tree honey, Mexican vanilla, and balsamic resins. I always wish that whoever writes these notes lists would make a point of specifying "iris root", because that's what "iris" is in perfumes - it has nothing to do with the flower. Somehow, I always forget that, so I always expect an iris perfume to be at least a little floral. At least in this case, nope. No flowers here.
It starts out heavy, dusty, and incense-like, though incense isn't in the listed notes - perhaps it's the cardamom. It's simultaneously dry and very thick. I can smell something inviting at the core, something sweeter and less dusty, and I want to brush all that incense away to get at it.
And that happens naturally - the incense seems to slowly burn away and fade to the background. An hour after application, it was all the same notes, but with the proportions tilted, with the wood facing me, and the whole thing a good deal less dry, though still very far from sweet.
A couple of hours after that, the incense seemed to be back, but an entirely different incense, softer and powdery. I went out to the grocery at this point, and kept walking through a lovely cloud of gentle, dry, lightly powdery oriental, and wheeling around to try to see who produced it. I suspect, in the end, that I was smelling myself. So it seems that I like this, or at least I like the heart and base notes. I'll have to wait for the next wearing to see if the top notes have grown on me.
Review Roundup: Now Smell This and The Non-Blonde and Perfume-Smellin' Things and Fragrantica and Basenotes and Perfume Posse (brief) and Aromascope (brief) and MakeupAlley and Scent of Abricots and Tea, Sympathy, and Perfume and WAFT and parfumieren and Perfume Patter and Beauty on the Outside.
Updated to expand the Review Roundup.
Photo: Mine
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