| shemale babe | | Modératrice | | Pipelette ;) | | 69 messages postés |
|  Posté le 22-12-2004 à 21:13:36   
| Heaven scent
Too many high-profile, low-quality perfumes have given the market a bad name. But, says Hazel Curry, the best ones are the ones you've
Hazel Curry
Friday December 17, 2004
The Guardian
Mandarin rind, clove, rose and patchouli. The smoky stuff of lost libraries where the powdery odour of old pages mingles with memories. The true smell of female flesh: musk, labdanum, and leather. A true classic. The name? Cabochard.
Never heard of it? No surprise. The majority of the world's most beautiful fragrances, such as this 1959 Grès classic, are generally unheard of. Because perfume, like many consumables, sells if it is the latest, must-have thing. The odour is of little importance - some of today's best-sellers smell best, frankly, when poured down a sink. Of course, there are exceptions - No 5 and Rive Gauche, say - but they are exactly that. Exceptions.
The consequence of our novelty- and marketing- driven perfume purchasing is that the ancient, delicate art of perfumery is not respected. As Nicolas Mirzayantz of IFF, one of the world's biggest fragrance houses, admitted recently, the industry functions in a vicious circle of consumers bagging pong-not-relevant perfume out of aspiration and not re-buying it because they don't actually like it, thus fuelling the demand for yet more new products.
The industry constantly churns out smells - perfumers are often forced to cough up within two weeks, when they would prefer a year, and because their work must sell out in a short period, it has to be "safe". We thus find ourselves in a sea of floriental, marine odours that don't offend, but don't seduce us either - the olfactory equivalent of Robbie Williams, when what we really want are Billie Holidays to loathe or obsess over.
But dig beneath the advertising-dominated counters, and there are masterpieces. Perfumery's crown jewels, the likes of L'Heure Bleue, Ma Griffe, Iris Silver Mist , Bandit, Avignon, Vent Vert, Diorama, French Can Can, Bluebell, Après l'Ondée, Joy, Ambre Sultan and Jardins Ottomans, are just waiting to get under your skin.
In an attempt to remind us of their existence, fragrance guru Roja Dove has opened an emporium of lost scents in Harrods' Urban Retreat. Old gems by brands such as Caron are present and correct, there are non-advertised modern-day wonders, such as Diptyque, and he has even brought several greats back from the dead (Quadrille by Balenciaga, for example). And just to prove good perfume will always defeat bad-smelling, well-marketed fragrance (if smelled), he has sold out of virtually every bottle.
If you want to buy hidden fragrance for someone you love, head to your local chemist or department store and sniff the perfumes you don't know (the not-so-famous Guerlains, the shy Chanels, the dusty Je Reviens and the dodgy looking Paloma Picasso). They might just surprise you.
For specialist help and a heavenly selection, call on Dove's team at Harrods (020-7893 8333) or James at Les Senteurs (020-7730 2322, mail order available).
If you don't want to spend hours sniffing, a safe bet for any man is Vetiver Oriental by Serge Lutens and you can can't go far wrong with Le Parfum de Therèse by Frederic Malle (a chypre at Les Senteurs) for complex women and Ombre Rose by Jean-Charles Brosseau (a floral at Dove's) for light-hearted ones. If you're totally stuck, buy a £50 find-your-perfume consultation voucher from Dove.
What the addicts wear
Isabella Blow, fashion director of Tatler
Fracas by Robert Piguet, 1948
My relationship with Fracas is obsessive. I fell in love with it in my early 20s and have covered myself in it since. Encountering the fabulous tuberose smell, I was hooked. It's incredibly erotic, I love the sensation of it dripping down my skin and the powerful scent kicking in. I have bottles in my bag, on my desk, everywhere. I reapply it about 15 times a day.
Amanda Lacey, facialist
Cuir de Russie by Chanel, 1924
The perfumer Jacques Polge gave it to me as a gift the second time I met him. You can only buy it from the Chanel boutiques, so I try to use it sparingly, which is hard as I'm addicted. It's intensely leathery and classy. There's something about it that makes me emotional - it reminds me of Paris and of times gone by when people had an elegant approach to life. I feel I'm wearing a wise grand dame around my neck. I'm also a fan of Caron's N'aimez Que Moi and Annick Goutal's Grand Amour. I hate mainstream perfume - it makes me edgy and it all smells the same. I don't want to smell like everyone else.
Oscar Pena, creative director Philips design
Tabarome by Creed, 1875
I come from a country (Colombia) of fragrance-lovers, so I've always hunted down interesting scents in small perfumeries. I found and fell in love with Tabarome in Milan a few years ago; I've worn it on my hair daily ever since and I'm sure I'll wear it for ever. There is something slow, heavy and wholesome about its dry, woody leather notes - people always say I smell good. I buy two huge bottles from the Creed shop in Paris every year and decant it into a special small container that travels everywhere with me. Apparently Napoleon and Queen Victoria loved it, too.
Alice Furnari, international PR for Miu Miu
'It's a secret'
I never tell anyone the name of my perfume or the brand because I don't want everyone to start wearing it. This is most unlike me - I'm always the first to tell someone where I got my shoes, my dress, my furniture, but with smell it's different. It's a vanilla-y talcum powder-like perfume made by a small pharmacy in Liguria, Italy. I used to only wear Fracas, but then a friend of my mother bought this for me 15 years ago and I've been true since then - it's a part of me. I apply a cascade every morning and re-spritz through the day. I buy four bottles every four months and always keep a stash at home, in case they stop making it.
Neisha Crosland, textile designer
Rosa by Santa Maria Novella, 17th century
I hate most widely available perfume - with the exception of brands such as Guerlain, it's usually very chemically and brash. I used to wear a variety of scents, such as Calèche by Hermès, Mitsouko by Guerlain and a few by Annick Goutal, but I now wear Rosa, a perfume by an old Italian pharmacy, which is only available at one shop in London. It's soft, feminine and fresh and I especially love the packaging. I don't think that it has changed since the 17th century and I'm sure it will never age because it's now classic. It's just a quality, simple, rose perfume in quality casing. Perfect.
Susan Hitch (above), broadcaster
Ormonde by Ormonde Jayne, 2002
I used to be faithful to L'Interdit by Givenchy. I'd only wear the parfum (not the eau de toilette), which was really hard to find and I'd hunt religiously for bottles of it, but now I've left that for a new scent called Ormonde. It's made by a relatively unknown perfumer, Ormonde Jayne, who has a tiny shop in an old arcade in London. It's seriously romantic - it contains black hemlock, which gives a delicious sense of being dangerous and it has a lot of naughty notes, but they're very resinous and sensual, so it's in no way crude or in your face, just subtly wicked. I love it and I'm sure I'll wear it for years.
http://shopping.guardian.co.uk/gifts/story/0,1587,1375893,00.html
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mon corps se remplit
mais mon cœur aussi
et plus le corps est entravé
plus l'esprit est "libre", est "libre", est "libre"...
Mylene Farmer |
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