A while ago I wrote a blog post about how perfume gets such a stepmotherly treatment up here in Scandinavia (for the whole post, read here). I had several ideas about the reasons for that, including our tradition of protestantism, social democracy, white and airy Scandinavian design and the horrendous Law of Jante, saying you should never be better than the rest.
But seriously, just think about it, all the people here that right at
this moment are pouring their souls into choosing the perfect wine to
accompany the perfect meal, wearing the perfect garment in their perfect
living room, just because they like it. That does not sound like people
are buried under a pile of protestant, et all, beliefs, does it?
Concerning perfume, there just HAS to be something else!
And I
think the answer is very very simple. Here, there is no tradition making
perfumes and most raw materials used in perfumery are not available
naturally here here, so all those references are missing. The perfume
supply in the shops is extremely limited (if you don't live in one of
the biggest cities) and there is no tradition giving out samples for
free. Taking all this into account it's not strange that most people
just haven't come across a scent they've seriously fallen for. The
rabbit holes in Sweden are sparse and far apart.
But now, Sweden
is also a country of nerds. It's considered a good thing to be serious
about your hobbies, excel at quizzes and just do a good job in general. I
believe that with just the tiniest nudge people wouldn't have any
problems tumbling all the way to the bottom of the before mentioned
rabbit holes - and I believe they are just as deep as
anywhere else.
And in order for that to happen I have created a new web site where I introduce some of my favourite fragrances and explain what I find so great about them. Coincidentally, these scents are also offered for sale, at competitive prices, in different, usable, sizes.
But I want more. Perfumeland, with its beautiful inhabitants, is a glorious place. I want to facilitate for everyone to get to know it. Therefore I'll move this blog over to the new site, and I want to feature as many other perfume bloggers as I possibly can on my new blog roll. So, if you want to be on it but aren't, please, tell me!
Also, I'll continue to do this blog in English, even though the rest of the site is in Swedish. And, even though you don't speak Swedish, don't let the language scare you. Seen one web shop, seen them all. The names of the perfumes and companies are the same. And although I'm starting out with only support for payments within Sweden ("I had to start somewhere so I started here", as Jarvis Cocker of Pulp used to sing), I'm all for international business. Just pop me a mail and we'll talk about it.
So, as this will be the last real blog post here in a while, I want to thank EVERYONE who has read this blog from the bottom for my heart! I got very surprised when I first realised anyone was reading it and I still get just as deliriously happy whenever I see one of your lovely comments! I'd love if you'll update your bookmarks and subscriptions to the new site (yes, you can link directly into the blog and never have to see the shopping part!) and stay with me and see what the future brings. Love, thanks and big hugs to you al!
And finally, the url to the new site:
http://riktigparfym.se (I'll be grateful forever and ever if you share!!!)
And for only the blog:
http://riktigparfym.se/blog
Hope to see you there :)
fragrantfanatic
Letting my mind wander freely while in search of the perfect scent
Monday, July 16, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Cats and Iceland
I feel so out of the olfactory loop that everyone seems to be in now. First everybody had spring but we had winter. Then everybody had summer, we had the coldest June in 20 years and the most rainy one for 100 years! Now everyone is having heat waves and what did I do? I went to Iceland. No heat waves there.
But I did have a great few days. I managed to meet up with my relatives, spend lots of time with my kids, youngest sister and mom and catch up with the local gossip of Reykjavik. I also managed to get some cat pictures for you. My mom has 4 georgeous cats. 3 are Maine Coons and one is a local blend.
I also managed to try 2 Icelandic perfumes at the airport, Ella Day and Ella Night. Ella Day started with a harsh lemon note that wasn't my thing at all but Ella Night was actually quite lovely, smelling of fur and vanilla, making me miss the cats even more. It lasted the whole trip on my wrist, the fur fading and the vanilla getting thinner and thinner and more like vanillin sugar as the hours went by. Not terribly complicated, but I'm not complaining, I seldom like vanillas so I'm happy I came across this one.
But I did have a great few days. I managed to meet up with my relatives, spend lots of time with my kids, youngest sister and mom and catch up with the local gossip of Reykjavik. I also managed to get some cat pictures for you. My mom has 4 georgeous cats. 3 are Maine Coons and one is a local blend.
Tara |
Bertil |
Birta |
Kissemissan |
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Neighborhood smellies
I've been so busy this week, preparing to go with the kids to Iceland, wrapping up things at work before the holidays, taking care of the garden etc etc that I haven't had time to prepare a proper perfume post. So instead, I figuered I'd show you some other great smelling things that grow around my house.
The area I live in is full of older houses with georgeous gardens surrounding them. A funny thing is that most gardens tend to be very similar when it comes to what plants grow in them. When spring first started the lawns were covered in squills (scillor) and wood anemones (vitsippor). Then came the daffodils in the flower beds. After that came major lilac season, they were everywhere. Then rhodedendron. Currently there are three top players, presented below:
Up until a year ago I thought mock-oranges were jasmines. In Swedish they're named "Schersmin" which, very confusingly, is pronounced almost exactely the same as jasmine. But apparently they're another species altogether. Nontheless they smell DIVINE. It's a sweet, heady and almost fruity scent. So strong you can smell a few flowers from across the street and so syrupy I wouldn't mind eating it with a spoon!
And peonies! Their scent makes me think of a fat-free, sugar-free rose, but what they lack in scent they make up for in looks. They're so ridiculously big and colorful, make me swoon every time.
The scent of elder flowers is an interesting one. They remind me of mimosa - minus the almondy facet. Though, I've only ever smelled mimosa in perfume so this might not be a very valid observation. But there is some anise in there, and caraway. According to the Fragrantica database only 4 perfumes have elder listen as a note. That's very few! I'd love to see what a good perfumer could do with this one!
So, this is what I smell at the moment. Coming up plants are lovely honeysuckle and roses. What are you smelling? I'd love to hear!
Pics: my own
The area I live in is full of older houses with georgeous gardens surrounding them. A funny thing is that most gardens tend to be very similar when it comes to what plants grow in them. When spring first started the lawns were covered in squills (scillor) and wood anemones (vitsippor). Then came the daffodils in the flower beds. After that came major lilac season, they were everywhere. Then rhodedendron. Currently there are three top players, presented below:
Mock-orange |
Peony |
Elder flowers |
So, this is what I smell at the moment. Coming up plants are lovely honeysuckle and roses. What are you smelling? I'd love to hear!
Pics: my own
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Histoires de Parfums - 1889 Moulin Rouge
I've said it before, the best thing about having perfumes as a hobby is not the many great perfumes you'll get to savour or how good you'll become at recognizing scents. The very best thing is the lovely people you get to meet. A while ago I wrote about how I'd just realised that the mall next to my work had two perfume shops in it. Parfumistan over at Parfumistans blogg commented that she also works near a mall with two perfume shops. And, as Sweden is a very small country, of course it turned out to be the same mall! Since then we've been meeting up for "perfume lunch" once a month, or, as I like to think of it, no-limit perfume nerd fests. And we've been exchanging samples as well. One of the perfumes Parfumistan generously let me try is 1889 Moulin Rouge by Histoires de Parfums. I've had the sample for a while now and been meaning to write about it for some time, but it's a hard scent to write about. I'm a little embarrassed by my perceptions of it, and you'll see why.
Lets start with the name, "1889 Moulin Rouge", a legendary nightclub in Paris, mostly known for it's can-can dancers. How might it have smelled in 1889? Like lots of warm bodies, probably. Some of them wearing the same skimpy scene costumes night after night at a time when hygiene standards probably did not include daily showers or dry cleaning. Is that something you'd want bottled? If you're some kind of Victorian bent pervert, sure, but most us would likely prefer living in ignorance on this one.
The official notes of the perfume tell a different story, though. Top notes are tangerine, prune and cinnamon. Warm, fruity, spicy - Yum! Heart notes are absinthe and rose of Damascus. Liquorice rose, that could be nice. Base notes are iris, patchouli, musk and fur. Sounds good once again. But unfortunately I'm not getting a single one of these notes. What I'm getting out of 1889 Moulin Rouge, is this:
Strawberry Strings are my sons favourite candy. It's basicly strawberry flavoured liquorice. They are rather nice, I probably wouldn't buy them for myself but I happily gobble down a string or two whenever opportunity is given.
1889 Moulin Rouge starts with leathery strawberry strings. Almost immediatly on applying the scent softens and moves towards a sweeter and fruitier variety of strawberry strings. Toward the end it smells like strawberry strings that have been left out in the air for some time. Some of the aroma has evaporated but they still taste the same, just now a showing off a dustier, more mellow facet of themselves. And those are the notes I'm managing to pin down.
This is a really lame description, which is a pity because 1889 Moulin Rouge is not a lame scent whatsoever. It's just very hard to describe as the notes are all so well integrated it's near impossible to tell them apart. It's a lovely scent, comfy and cheerful and envelops your body in a sweet red-hued shimmer. Although sillage is low, longlivety is great. I've been wearing it for work as it's both encouraging and discreet, and it lasts all day. I've also been wearing it to bed as it's warm and cozy enough to induce happy dreams. Interestingly enough, the only thing it's not made for it's a grand night out, including absinth drinking and watching risqué dance acts - very much in spite of it's name.
Lets start with the name, "1889 Moulin Rouge", a legendary nightclub in Paris, mostly known for it's can-can dancers. How might it have smelled in 1889? Like lots of warm bodies, probably. Some of them wearing the same skimpy scene costumes night after night at a time when hygiene standards probably did not include daily showers or dry cleaning. Is that something you'd want bottled? If you're some kind of Victorian bent pervert, sure, but most us would likely prefer living in ignorance on this one.
The official notes of the perfume tell a different story, though. Top notes are tangerine, prune and cinnamon. Warm, fruity, spicy - Yum! Heart notes are absinthe and rose of Damascus. Liquorice rose, that could be nice. Base notes are iris, patchouli, musk and fur. Sounds good once again. But unfortunately I'm not getting a single one of these notes. What I'm getting out of 1889 Moulin Rouge, is this:
"Strawberry Strings" (=jordgubbssnören) |
1889 Moulin Rouge starts with leathery strawberry strings. Almost immediatly on applying the scent softens and moves towards a sweeter and fruitier variety of strawberry strings. Toward the end it smells like strawberry strings that have been left out in the air for some time. Some of the aroma has evaporated but they still taste the same, just now a showing off a dustier, more mellow facet of themselves. And those are the notes I'm managing to pin down.
This is a really lame description, which is a pity because 1889 Moulin Rouge is not a lame scent whatsoever. It's just very hard to describe as the notes are all so well integrated it's near impossible to tell them apart. It's a lovely scent, comfy and cheerful and envelops your body in a sweet red-hued shimmer. Although sillage is low, longlivety is great. I've been wearing it for work as it's both encouraging and discreet, and it lasts all day. I've also been wearing it to bed as it's warm and cozy enough to induce happy dreams. Interestingly enough, the only thing it's not made for it's a grand night out, including absinth drinking and watching risqué dance acts - very much in spite of it's name.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
A scent for sadness
My grandpa, Jakob Sigurðsson, and myself |
I had a bout of the latter kind a while ago, as my grandfather passed away. It wasn't unexpected, he'd been very ill for a long time, but still, when death actually strikes, it's always devestating. All of a sudden the livliness of floral and fruity scents felt wrong. Gourmands, especially the sweeter ones, I couldn't stand at all as I'm the kind of person who looses apetite when sad. Loud, dramatic scents with a lot going on in them were just too much, I had enough of issues of my own. I tried going scentless, but that didn't feel right either. I wanted something. An olfactory equivalent of a funeral dress. Something functional and no-fuss to get me through the day without demanding any attention.
And what kind of a scent would that be? There was one that came to mind. It was released earlier this year and when I first tried it, back in February, I didn't think much of it. But now, under these new circumstances, there was something about it that kept tugging at my sleeve. I had a try. And yes, Serge Lutens L'Eau Froide did hit the spot.
It starts out with grapefruit. But there is no sun kissed Florida goodness here. When I say grapefruit I mean grapefruit zest of grapefruits 20 years ago. Before ruby was the norm and your face puckered up at every bite. On top of that I get a mint, but it's compeltely stripped of all its herby facets. Only the cold is left.
There came a card with my sample and, if I remember correctly, it said that L'Eau Froide smelles like cold water running through rusty pipes. That is a very accurate description of how the scent moves on. There is water, metal and cold, and that's it. There is supposed to be somali incense in there but as that's not a note I'm familiar with so unfortunately I can't pick it out.
If I'd envision L'Eau Froide as a person it would be as a stiff and solemn old fashioned butler. One who keeps a respectful distance but still is always ready to do whatever needs to be done, day after day after day, without ever letting the tiniest inch of personal emotion slip out through his face. He might never smile but he got me through days when my body felt numb with grief and my mind was so muddled I compeltely lost track of what I'd actually been been saying and doing, thought about saying and doing and dreamt I'd said and done. Thankfully I'm through the worst of it now, the flowers have regained their colors and the food has taste again. I wouldn't call L'Eau Froide either joyful or adventurous but it stood by me when I mostly needed it - and for that I'll be forever greatful.
Images: Fragrantica and my own.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Sa Majeste la Rose - Serge Lutens
I seem to be on a bit of a rose spree right now. Possibly, it has to do with the weather, I remember I was into roses at this time, last year, as well. Few raw materials gives me such a width of visions as rose scents. There are so many fragrances, yet they all manage to be so different. There are freshly sprung morning roses, complete with dew drops and a garden. There are pale pink shabby chic/country living/dainty teacup roses that are very nice indeed but somehow lack a lower body. There are the smoldering incense roses. Heavyweight Middle Eastern roses. Dark roses. Blood roses.
One excellent rose scent is Serge Lutes Sa Majeste la Rose. This is an almost rose soliflore (is there a technical term for "almost soliflore", I'd love to know), smelling first and foremost of rose with a skeletal background of other notes adding context and spine.
The intro is rose and rose alone. When applied super light it smells very natural, like smelling a rose on its stem in a garden. At the same time heady, innocent and sweet. But whenever wearing more than a single drop another facet comes out to play. Suddenly the scent toggles between its original pretty rosyness and something oily and metallic. The effect is the same as the picture on the right. Just as you either see the beautiful young girl or the old woman, but not both at the same time, I either get the pretty side or the metallic side of Sa Majeste la Rose, but not both. I find this type of olfactory dynamics very interesting, it makes me think of the mad genius stereotype. A person who's brilliant in some ways but also ravinly insane in others.
But oily metal is not something that should be done in excess, and fortunately it does fade, after a while. As Sa Majeste la Rose develops a luxurious honey note reveals itself. The honey somehow warms and opens up the rose, removes every trace of innocence. At this point we've got a sultry, sexy little thing, someone waiting in anticipation for her lover to arrive. And he sure does. As we're moving toward the dry down a note of gaiac wood emerges. I interpert it as very masculine and absolutely gorgeous. First time I noticed it I immediately assumed that it had to be something a male coworker was wearing. Which was odd, as I'd never noticed that any of them wear perfume before, ever. Who'd have believed they'd this good taste? Then I realised it was all me ;)
So, I enjoy Sa Majeste la Rose a lot. It's great for summer and it manages to sport just the right amount of interesting backdrops while still staying in the "lighter rose" category. A great feature is that it comes across very differently depending on how much is applied. It can be perfectly appropriate for work if applied lightly and more suited for ... other occasions when using more.
Offical notes: Moroccan rose absolute, gaiac wood, clove, white honey, musk
Thursday, June 7, 2012
The new Vero Kern fragrance
When the Swiss perfumer Vero Kern released her newest perfume she celebrated by doing a draw on Facebook. 50 lucky commenters would win a sample of her, yet unnamed and not officially described, scent. Before the official release we were encouraged to write down our opinions and the most interested ones were to be published on her site. And guess what, I was one of the winners of a sample! I've had so much fun sniffing blindly and here's my impression:
This is a little chamelion of a scent. I've been discovering new notes on every try. The first time I tried it on was on a very cold day. 6 degrees Celsius and windy outside. I'd been out and was chilled to the bone when I discovered that my Vero Kern package had arrived. The first notes that stuck me when spraying was citrus, herbs and stone. I thought I got lemongrass, lime and white chalky rocks. It felt chilly, strict and severe, but at the same time, classy and smelling very good. One of my initial thoughts was "An Asian take on Chanel No 19". Unfortunately I fell asleep before drydown.
The next morning, another go. This was a mild and sunny morning, warm enough to wear an unbuttoned light jacket to work. My impression of the scent now was a completely different one. No Asia and absolutely no Chanel No 19. I still got rocks and citrus but the composision felt warmer. I smelled a meadow of lemon trees growing in dry, chalky soil. The sun was shining and there was a glimpse of the sea in a dinstance. I would not call it an aquatic, or even marine, scent, but there is definately a feeling of saltiness and minerals.
Third time was, yet again, completely different. Now it was raining
outside and clouds were dark and heavy. During the opening, I hardly got
any citrus at all. What I got was freshly cut fennel, complete with
fronds. After a while there was lemon oil but only breifly. There were
also wet, slippery grey stones. When the lemon oil faded, mild green notes lingered on. I got lettuce and faint grass.
The
dry down is wonderful but hard to pin down as the notes are very well
integrated here. I think there
might be myrrhe, some citrusy resins, salty minerals and there is a super tiny hint
of something vanillic. By now it makes my body smell fresh, but not in
that artificial soapy clean way. Neither in a musky way. It's like breathing fresh air. It
smells like my body might have smelled if I had done my
excersises, eaten organic food and taken care of myself. It's a "me, but better" scent that actually delivers -
and Vero, I applaud you for pulling that off!
http://www.thaiworldview.com
http://bestthingsinbeauty.blogspot.se
http://vegetarianrecipes.wikia.com
This is a little chamelion of a scent. I've been discovering new notes on every try. The first time I tried it on was on a very cold day. 6 degrees Celsius and windy outside. I'd been out and was chilled to the bone when I discovered that my Vero Kern package had arrived. The first notes that stuck me when spraying was citrus, herbs and stone. I thought I got lemongrass, lime and white chalky rocks. It felt chilly, strict and severe, but at the same time, classy and smelling very good. One of my initial thoughts was "An Asian take on Chanel No 19". Unfortunately I fell asleep before drydown.
First try |
Second try |
Third try |
http://www.thaiworldview.com
http://bestthingsinbeauty.blogspot.se
http://vegetarianrecipes.wikia.com
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