Showing posts with label Divine eau de parfum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Divine eau de parfum. Show all posts

Friday, February 26, 2010

Givenchy Ysatis: Classic Floriental

I cannot believe I didn’t know Ysatis was created by Dominque Ropion. I have always liked Ysatis and just when I decided to sit down and write about it (today) is when I googled to find Ropion is the culprit. I’m a huge crazy fan of Ropion’s work and the fact that I was enamored with Ysatis before knowing the nose behind it makes me feel even more strongly that I’m a Ropion devotee (stalker?). Except Ego Facto’s Poopoo Pidoo, that is most definitely not a good Ropion fragrance for me. Bleck.

I found this fantastic review of Ysatis on a blog called Yesterday’s Perfume. She makes me laugh when she writes “Ysatis is not only a pleasure to pronounce (look in the mirror, purse your lips and whisper “Eee-saht-ees, by Jee-vahn-shee” just for kicks) it's a gorgeous and sensual floral.”

Ysatis is a classic floriental. It’s sensual and timeless and surprises me that it was created in 1984. It could easily have been made fifty years before that. But, like all Ropion fragrances, I find them classic but not dated or old fashioned. Well, maybe a 20 year old smelling Ysatis today would think it’s old fashioned, but I don’t concern myself with the youngsters. I imagine Ysatis to be the signature scent of a devoted group of sophisticated 40-somethings. These lovely ladies probably grew up smelling Ysatis in the 80’s and it just spoke to them. Ysatis has a signature scent vibe to me, because it’s distinct, complex and sexaaaay.

I’ve been wearing Ysatis for the better part of this week and it keeps reminding me of something else. It finally struck me today. It reminds me of Divine eau de parfum. Well, I should write that Divine reminds me of Ysatis because Y came before D. Then after reading there is a coconut note in Ysatis, the whole composition became so clear and obvious. Now I can really smell the individual notes, which is unusual in a dense floriental like this, but I can. In the top I smell mandarin and dark coconut. But I doubt you’d know there was coconut here on your own, but once you know, it just screams coconut. The heart is my favorite combination of big florals; the tuberose, jasmine, and ylang-ylang do their magical Ropion dance in my nostrils like the drumbeat from a far-off exotic island. Somehow Ropion stops just short of making Ysatis a tropical fragrance. The exotic elements are here but it never goes completely native – it remains mainstream floral with a twist rather than stepping off the plane to be greeted with a lei around your neck. I’m not sure if Ysatis actually contains oakmoss (probably not anymore) but there is a mossy, civetous, patchouli base here - yum, yum, my favorite kind of stuff.

Most likely Ysatis has been reformulated. It’s definitely been repackaged and I’m not sure if the packaging will tell you which is which (pre-reform vs. current). It comes in either a black or purple box. The one I have is the black box and I *think* this might be the original.

Ysatis is grand. I will be having some goofball fun this weekend looking in the mirror and saying ““Eee-saht-ees, by Jee-vahn-shee." I imagine a pure parfum concentration of Ysatis would be Holy Grail material for me. Does anyone know if parfum exists? Also, I've never tried Ysatis Iris - has anyone out there?

Notes ~ (Notes for Ysatis are scarce and varied so I pieced these together from several online sources)
Top: Green note, aldehydes, mandarin, rosewood, coconut
Heart notes: Tuberose, jasmine, narcissus, carnation, rose, ylang-ylang
Base notes: Patchouli, sandalwood, castoreum, civet, oakmoss, amber, honey, cistus

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Roja Dove Scandal: Enters my top 10

Anything described by Luca Turin as “preposterously intense” and “enormously rude” is going straight to the top of my must-try list. If that weren’t enough, anything considered heavily tuberose, indolic and slightly animalic is a siren call loud enough to keep me awake at night.

I started with a good sized decant of Scandal. I’m nearing the end of my decant and now a full bottle is on the way.

Here’s the thing, Scandal isn’t particularly intense nor is she rude. To me, Scandal is sublime with a capital S. Scandal is intoxicating, warm, and engaging, but she does have an attitude. Get this: Scandal is now firmly on my top 10 list of all time. Don’t ask me to list my top 10 – those that are *always* on this list (at least lately) are: Teo Cabanel Alahine, Annick Goutal Ambre Fetiche, Amarige Harvest Edition 2006, No. 22 and now Scandal. Naming the remaining 5 will give me fits. Oh, heck, listing this much has given me a panicky sensation.

The fragrance which reminds me the most of Scandal is Fracas. Do Fracas and Scandal actually smell alike? Not really. But they are second cousins. I find Fracas more in your face than Scandal. Fracas is a straight up Diva while Scandal basks in the shadows with inky, smoky eyes. Fracas is platinum blond, Scandal is brunette. I sort of hate these appearance and personality comparisons but sometimes they just make sense. I wore Fracas a great deal back in the 90’s. I also wore Fleurissimo which is another big white floral. As much as I love the idea of both of these perfumes, they wore me out. I need to admit: I can’t wear Fracas, it’s too much and makes me a bit headache-y. I also feel like an imposter wearing Fracas and Fleurissimo, like I have a sign over my head which reads: “Alert! Alert! This woman is trying to enter our club but she is NOT one of us.”

Are Fracas and Fleurissimo cold white florals? Is that it? Scandal feels warm and easy. Scandal melts into my skin and I feel completely comfortable wearing it. Scandal has been described as a classic 1950’s type of big white floral; it most definitely reads classic to me but not particularly retro. Scandal smells like equal parts tuberose, jasmine and freesia with touches of lily of the valley to make it gentle. The start is strongly orange blossom and this is where Scandal reminds me of Fracas, the opening is a big tilt-o-the-hat to cousin Fracas. The jasmine adds a green touch and the tuberose is very warm and animalic. The whole composition is loud yet cozy warm and the softly woody spices and musk in the base are nothing short of perfection.

Most of the time, my very favorite fragrances are one’s which are a scent of their own, not an accumulation of notes. Take Alahine for instance; maybe you could pick out the notes if you tried, but overall, Alahine is Alahine, it’s own scent entity, it exists as a whole, not a group of notes sticking together in the same vicinity. Same for No. 22, No. 5 and many others. Scandal, while a beautiful rendering of the sum of it’s notes, is also one of these scents; it is simply the smell of Scandal. The notes are dense are difficult to smell apart whereas some fragrances leave space between the notes, like Hermes Vanille Galante, were I can smell the spaces in between the notes. Scandal, like Fracas, Divine and Songes is a big white floral with an existence and attitude all it’s own.

According to basenotes:
Top: bergamot, muguet, orange blossom
Middle: freesia, rose, jasmine from Grasse, tuberose
Base: sandalwood, orris, balsams, musk

Sunday, December 6, 2009

TWRT 12.6.09

This Week’s Random Thoughts –

Perhaps I’m cranky, but do you ever wonder why certain people go to the trouble to post their masses of reviews on basenotes and MUA when you find the majority of them worded like this: “well, I don’t usually like tuberose (floral orientals, chypres, just fill in the blank) so I loathed this and needed to scrub it off my wrists.” Personally, I don’t need anyone, who prefers sheer citrus scents like Annick Goutal Duel, to review Amouage Gold from a dab-on 1 ml vial, and tell me it’s just “a big heady, cloying 80’s scent.” Thanks but your opinion is useless. I often wonder why these people do this. Are their lives so boring that they get an ego boost out of being a “top reviewer” on MUA or basenotes? If you are not inclined to like anything sweet, heady or powerful then don’t bother buying a vial of the stuff to tell me how much you dislike it.

So, Serge’s next release (L’Eau)is as fresh as a dryer sheet. I’m not reading anything mysterious or mythical into his choice aside from the fact that he’s a sell out just like everyone else and needed a fresh cologne in his line-up.

On the cooking front, I made turkey pot pie this week for the first time. It was an exercise in using up Thanksgiving leftovers. I learned that you need to boil the potatoes before putting them in the pie to bake. It was otherwise good.

Amouage Ubar smells a bit like bug spray. And I normally like big florals like this.

I’m having a huge affair with Strange Invisible Perfumes lately. It might end badly but for the moment I’m anxiously awaiting a big box. For those who need to know, Heroine has been reissed in parfum concentration. And, just to clarify, because I was dopey and didn’t get it myself, it’s heroine with an ‘e’ on the end, as in female hero, not heroin the very bad drug.

I thought I was doing well this year with holiday shopping. Suddenly I realize it’s December 5th and I have loads to do and I’m stressed as usual.

I ordered Angel Excessive Parfum in the limited edition bottle because it was on sale. I’m so happy I did because the bottle is a thing of excessive tacky beauty and the juice is as powerful as a nuclear explosion. I want to hide it away and sniff it in 20 years and see what I think then.

Guerlain’s Chypre Fatale is not really a chypre nor fatal. It’s very fruity with a little patch in the base. Oriental Brulant is the nicest from their Elixir Charnal limited edition series.

My nose is changing. Now when I go back and sniff things from a year or two ago I seem to smell them more clearly (if that makes sense?). I wore Divine eau de parfum this week and was in heaven. This is truly some gorgeous glamour juice. It’s such a well done ‘big floral.’ I don’t know that I’d call it buttery, like LT in The Guide, but I will call it amazing. It’s big, blowsy, retro and oh-so -feminine and pretty. To me it’s a big powdery tuberose but when it dries down it seems to turn into a lovely bouquet of hyacinths.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Sexiest Perfumes

Its a frequently asked question on the fragrance board at MUA, something along the lines of: "which fragrance is a man magnet? what do you consider to be the sexiest perfume? what scent gets the most compliments?" Usually the question comes from a newbie or someone visiting from another board. Many times the question is answered with jokes, such as "bacon" or "beer" or "just get naked." The question of what is a sexy perfume is asked so often it's hard for board regulars to bother answering it. Mostly, when a few good souls take the time to answer, something along the lines of "wear whatever makes you feel good," is the response.

Wearing what makes you happy and therefore feel good and sexy is the correct answer. But occasionally I get to thinking about what constitutes a generically sexy scent. I've come to the conclusion that a sexy fragrance is one that smells man-made, not something realistic like a soliflore or a specific aroma in nature. I wouldn't consider a scent that smells like true red roses or honeysuckle or peach salsa or cedar wood chips to be sexy. I do, however, think orientals and florientals are the sexiest scents. Chypres, to me, are fragrances one wears for herself. I can't imagine any chypre I own as sexy. Chypres are too complicated, intelligent, wanting to talk. Big aldehydic fragrances are too prissy and pulled together. I adore Le Labo Aldehyde 44 *because* it makes me feel dressed and complete, not undressed in a dimly lit room. I don't think anyone thinks hesperedic or green fragrances are sexy - I wear these to feel fresh and practical.

Here's my list of sexy orientals and florientals:

(in alphabetical order)

Alahine by Teo Cabanel - Alahine is a smoldering aldehydic amber with floral notes woven throughout. It's noticeable, warm and perhaps equally as sophisticated & refined as it is sexy. Alahine makes your skin hot and your mind wander. It's classic with a racy undercurrent. (Alternatives: hmmm, not really similar but picking up on the amber theme - maybe Laura Mercier Minuit Enchante or Parfum d'Empire Ambre Russe but these are less polished)

Alien Liqueur Limited Edition - Alien Liqueur is hypnotic. It's the original Alien with a boozy, woody bent. It's heavy lidded and languid. It's sweet, spicy and addictive. (Alternative: Dior Addict)

Amarige by Givenchy - Amarige is perfume wearing stilettos. It doesn't whisper come hither, it announces it with a husky voice ala Kathleen Turner circa Body Heat. (Alternative: Jean Paul Gaultier Classique)

Barbara Bui Le Parfum - Barbara Bui is probably the most low-key and whisper-y type of sexy fragrance I can think of. If you don't want a potent perfume then this is your answer. Barbara Bui is all about the smell of your lovers undershirt and pillowcase. (Alternative: Costes)

Chaldee by Jean Patou - Musky and sweet, warm and animalic, slightly dirrrrty. Chaldee is an olfactory negligee. (Alternative: Bond No. 9 Fire Island)

Divine eau de parfum - Bombshell tuberose-oriental. Hollywood Glamour. (Alternative: maybe Chinatown, not completely sure)

Gucci eau de parfum - Gucci is a sensual skin scent extraordinaire. It's musky, sweet, herbal, spicy and becomes you. Gucci melts into your skin. If I could have sex with Gucci eau de parfum, I would, but then you'd think I was weird.

LouLou by Cacharel - another Hollywood Glamour scent here. LouLou is a bit less extravagant than Divine. LouLou might wear fishnets under her tailored suit and carry an old fashioned cigarette case in her purse for the occasional dalliance over coffee.

Monyette Paris - Now this is one of the most overtly floral of the bunch. Monyette is predominantly gardenia focused scent but it veers away from big in-your-face florals and falls firmly in the camp of sexy with it's luscious nag champa and mind altering musks.

Musc Ravageur by Frederic Malle - In some ways, Musc Ravageur is similar in style to Gucci edp. MR is a sweet, vanillic musk with what seems like layer upon layer of different musks. There's a stage of Musc Ravageur when sniffing it numbs my nostrils like novocaine or some such thing (surely the clove). It's a naughty scent, pure and simple. (Alternative: not particularly similar but a runner up: Chanel Coromandel. Perhaps the only Chanel I find sexy).

Songes by Annick Goutal - Another overtly floral fragrance - almost too floral to be sexy but it manages a kittenish little shimmy towards the dark side with it's buttery tuberose, tropical frangipani and indolic white florals. (Alternative: Penhaligons Amaranthine)

I didn't include these in the above list, but obviously Shalimar should be included and the following masculines strike me as having the ability to make a bombshell out of a guy: Hermes Terre d'Hermes, Fahrenheit (don't shoot me), Parfums MDCI Invasion Barbare, Fresh Index Tobacco Flower, Creed Tabarome, Annick Goutal Sables and Caron Yatagan.

So, what fragrances do YOU think are sexy? Do you care? Do you avoid fragrances like these? Can we even define sexy perfumes or are they, like most things, entirely individual? What I'm wondering, is whether there is a culturally agreed upon type of scent which strikes most as sexy. Hmmm...

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Divine eau de parfum: A Review

I’m not a white floral gal. Take for instance, Parfum de Nicolai Number One. Number One may be a gorgeous awarding winning fragrance but it just doesn’t make my heart skip a beat. Serge Lutens Nuit de Cellophane is the epitome of white floral perfection but it just bores me silly. But take your basic white floral notes and make them the centerpiece of an oriental or chypre and I’m all over it.

Divine eau de parfum, makes me swoon so hard I lose consciousness, my knees buckle and I’m typically distracted while wearing it. Divine eau de parfum could have been created by Dominique Ropion, who I’ve come to think of as a classicist, a rare breed of perfumer who still makes unabashedly full bodied and sultry fragrances. Of course, Ropion is not the perfumer for Divine, but I digress, I’m obsessed with him lately.

Divine is a tiny niche perfumery from France, started in Dinard, a seaside town in Brittany of all places. Dinard isn’t Grasse, and it’s a far cry from Paris, and it isn’t chic or trendy. Yvon Mouchel is the perfumer, who, as the story goes, owned his own perfume boutique before he decided to create the juice himself. The idea of this small perfumery, creating classically beautiful fragrances gives me the warm fuzzies. I’m a huge fan of the underdog, and Divine fits this description.

Divine eau de parfum is categorized as a chypre. When a chypre leans toward the sweet, I have a difficult time differentiating between it and a floral oriental. Divine eau parfum stands somewhere between floral oriental and chypre to my nose. Similar to Acqua di Parma’s Iris Nobile eau de parfum, which is also considered a chypre, but I would have guessed a floral oriental. Speaking of Iris Nobile edp (not edt), there are some strong similarities between it and Divine. Both are luscious full bodied white florals, heavy on the gardenia and tuberose, with fruity beginnings and spicy, mossy bases causing me to drool.

Divine’s list of notes are peach, coriander, gardenia, Indian tuberose, May rose, oak moss, musk, vanilla, and spices. There will be no mistaking, when you smell Divine, it’s very 1950s Hollywood glamour. Divine is real perfume, for a confident woman, who cares not that she’s wearing an in your face tuberose/gardenia chypre. If she’s going to wear perfume she’s damn well going to wear the good stuff.

Divine has won me over. I hope more people fall in love with Divine’s perfumes and I wish the company much success. It would please me to know that a small perfumery can make good old fashioned perfumes against all odds, without advertising and make it on their exceptional juice alone.

You can purchase directly from Divine's website from wherever you happen to live. In the US Divine is sold at Luckyscent.

PS: The image is Ellen Barkin. I love Ellen, she rocks.