Tauer Perfumes London launch event

I have the immense pleasure of announcing a Scent Gathering featuring Andy Tauer presenting his two new fragrances, L'Eau d'Epices and Une Rose Vermeille, plus the re-launch of Une Rose Chypree.

The event takes place on Saturday, 9 October, from 2-4 in the afternoon. Champagne will be served.

If you are interested in attending, please send an email to info@scent-and-sensibility.co.uk with 'Tauer Gathering' in the header.

Sublime

I had not been one of Tom Ford's greatest fans. Certainly, I found the things he had done -- at Gucci, with Estee Lauder, the fragrances -- impressive. But I wasn't moved.

Last night, we watched A Single Man. If Mr Ford were gone tomorrow (which I hope does not happen) he would leave a piece of sublime work behind. One slice of true genius. And my whole appreciation of him has altered.

The film is conceptually stunning (Ford adapted the book for screenplay, directed and produced). Beautifully rendered. Both complex and simple. It manages that which is most difficult: Not a drop of sentimentality. It is profound and profoundly moving.

It is not 'big' (and apparently it was shot in 21 days). It is an ensemble piece, but it is 'owned', for lack of a better word, by Colin Firth, who is just, well... everything.

Conceptually, I found this original and sometimes astonishing. The cinematography (some of which may be derivative, but if that is the case, it is in the form of respectful homage) is frequently awesome (the colours, what's slowed down, etc) and used to extraordinary effect.

The settings and costumes are amazing, as one would expect.

The music is perfect.

There are some perfume moments to be savoured as well. The major one has to do with Lanvin Arpege. There are also some prize snippets to look out for.

After seeing this film for the first time, Maureen snagged an unopened vintage bottle of Arpege off of ebay. Still in the plastic wrapper, the juice had evaporated down to about an inch left (I don't know why this would happen given the bottle was still wrapped -- maybe some small leak in the bottle). It is dark purple, almost brown, in colour. From the label, it looks like it originated in Madrid. Perhaps someone was selling the contents of a relative's house off.

The smell. Oh, the fragrance of this stuff. I have tried the current formulation of Arpege and find it beautiful. I wear it quite well and have sometimes contemplated owning a bottle. But it can't touch this older juice, which is the epitome of what perfume should smell like on an adult woman. Presented as one of the great aldehydic florals, this is floral and hugely animalic. Warm and unctuous.

Notes for the current version are: aldehydes, bergamot, neroli, peach, jasmine, rose, lily of the valley, ylang ylang, coriander, tuberose, sandalwood, vanilla, more tuberose, vetiver, patchouli and styrax. Maybe there is some real civet in the older versions.

This makes me yearn for pre-reformulations of the classic perfumes because while the current Arpege is beautiful, it is rather wan compared with this, which has rather old-fashioned classical lines but is strangely achingly modern. Perhaps this is just me reflecting on how pedestrian most perfume releases are, whether mainstream or niche.

So far, none of the Tom Ford fragrances I've tried have really got me going (I need to do Youth Dew Amber Nude). But this film, this is rare, elegant and eloquent, like that vintage Arpege.

If you have seen A Single Man, I expect you knodded your head in understanding to all I've written. If not, perhaps this little piece will act as a trigger for you to seek it out.

Sublime.

A miscellany

My mind is focused on fragrance-related but non-fragrant things at the moment.

Getting paperwork to the nice man who has become my accountant.

What the parcel containing 1,000 2ml glass sample vials will look like.

Where the truck bringing the next stock shipment will park, as I don't think it will make it through the gates, into the front yard.

Maureen called the other day to report on her fragrant doings in Plymouth and tell me, quite breathlessly, that I should consider a trip to Dingles in Plymouth because I could get a titchy bottle (I think this is among the 'special-for-Christmas' stock) of Guerlain Shalimar parfum there for a mere £60. Very tempted.

More of the on-again, off-again discussions about fragrance releases that smell of not much. We've had a sample of Calvin Klein Beauty kicking around the kitchen table for several weeks. I finally smelled it. Sadly, a whole lot of indistinct (well, a bit of white flower) meh. I understand the 'why' of commercial perfume releases but I am increasingly saddened by the idea that good noses get stuck doing this sort of thing rather than actually stretching their talent.

Finally, two things that are making me happy at the moment:

1) The mystery of the name for the fragrant white-blossomed bush I've discovered on the way to school. I will get to the bottom of that soon.

2) That I will indeed be taking Flamenco classes starting in October. We watched Carlos Saura's Carmen last night. Beautiful and unnerving in equal measures. Highly recommended (that sounds like Luca Turin in The Guide).

"Can you recognize this?"

Because of the work I do, I get asked the question posed in today's post title with some frequency. Usually, it is associated with someone sticking their wrist under my nose.

Alas, however, most of the time I disappoint in identifying perfumes by smell on skin. I am very good at picking out specific notes in a fragrance -- or even, sometimes, at pinpointing the house that produced the fragrance. But, 99% of the time I can't come up with a name for what I am sniffing.

I know that some perfumistas are great at this and can offer a name to go with a scent with frequency. "Oh," they say, "that is Gucci Rush" or "you're wearing Guerlain Shalimar, but an older version". Not me. 

I do recall knowing a man on the tube, caught in passing many years ago, was wearing L'Artisan Mechant Loup.  I can almost always identify Dior Hypnotic Poison, but that's because it was a winter staple for many years. I can usually get Thierry Mugler Angel, but that's getting harder, as a lot more perfumes now include ethylmaltol. Oh, and I have no trouble with Ormonde Jayne Man and Woman because they are so thoroughly distinctive.

I can tease out notes from a fragrance with ease (ie, that woman is wearing a rose fragrance, overlaid with tuberose and containing aldehydes). I can work out different ways a perfumer has created the smell of leather. I can stand there like a fool for 10 minutes in one spot trying to work through the separate fragrances I have just inhaled.  I can say to a client, when I am doing a Scent Gathering, "your chemistry brings out XX note from that fragrance".

I love all of this and the being able to do it. It's interesting, fun and helpful in my work. But, if you blindfolded me, sent me into House and Fraser and sprayed something in the air I doubt very much I'd be able to identify it by name.

Probably not the best thing to confess to as a perfume retailer, but there you have it.

On rosehips

On the walk to and from school (and indeed on most the lanes around here) the rosebushes finished blooming are now covered in oblong, deep fire-engine-red losenges called rosehips.

Now, over time, I have had rosehip handcreams and teas, but apparently a Devon staple is rosehip syrup, which is made from combining macerated rosehips and sugar in boiling water. The concoction gets boiled for a good long time. It's then poured into a sort of muslin to strain and the liquid is bottled for autumn and winter use. Rosehips are very high in vitamin C, with a spoonful of mixture given daily over the course of the darker seasons to boost the immune system. You can also drink it mixed with hot water.

Now, while the roses round here are generally of the wild variety and thus have a strong fragrance, rosehips don't seem to smell of much of anything. The pleasure of them lies in how they keep the bushes looking colourful, as well as what can be done with them.

However, there is also a downside to the presence of rosehips around schools, as crushed and rubbed on skin, they cause serious itching. The man-cub came home one day several weeks ago in his tee shirt as they'd all been using rosehips on each other -- and had then got a good scolding from the head teacher in assembly that afternoon. Not a part of life in a London primary school.

In any case, over the past couple of weeks, one of my tasks on the way home from afternoon schoolrun every few days has been the picking of rosehips. Apparently, I have some in-built scale, having picked exactly a half a kilo on several occasions. This keeps us in rosehip syrup.

The activity is profoundly relaxing (except when you hit a thorn) and allows time for contemplation of how patterns of life are different from that experienced in London.

New beautiful

My apologies for internet silence. I promised more news ('new' and 'news' seem to be my words of the moment).

Today, it is my great pleasure to announce that as of next week I'll have a new perfumer on the site, offering three perfumes from the line.

Soivohle is the name of the ready-to-wear line produced by Ohio-based perfumer, Liz Zorn. Ms Zorn comes to perfumery by way of the visual arts and music and turned her hand full time to perfumery in 2003. According to Liz, perfume is about passion and infusing passion into one's life. "It is about love and joy and all of the wonderfully magical things that feed our creative souls". New to Scent-and-Sensibility Perfume are three fragrances from the Studio and Moderne lines: Fig Amarette and Peche et Vert from the former; Bottleneck Blues from the latter.

Fig Amarette, a fig-based gourmand, and Peche et Vert, a lush fruit scent, will be available in eau de parfum strength in 60ml bottles (forgive the pics -- the ones on the site are much clearer).

Bottleneck Blues, a gorgeous, deep, resinous animalic musk, comes in 15ml-sized parfum.

All three fragrances are, as ever, available in 2ml glass sample sprays (note that the Bottleneck Blues will be filled to 1ml, as it is parfum).

Please have a look at the website for details and ordering starting Monday, 20 September.

Life is never simple

I feel a bit like a head-cut-off chicken today.

The man-cub had his first set of homeworks due today. In new-fangled folders no less.

My EORI number came through from HMRC. So, I'm now got my import/export number associated with the VAT registration. Makes things simpler.

Lots of paperwork done and still to do.

And, I'm awaiting two shipments of perfumes at the moment, one of which holds new stuff. I'll be blogging about that later in the week, I hope.

Someone had a bonfire today which smelled not of burning wood but of incense. Go figure. What in the world could they have been burning?

I've got red patent leather shoes coming from Amazon. These are to fill a gap in my wardrobe (no shoes with solid heels) due to most of my clothing still being in storage and to fulfill the requirement for the flamenco taster class this Saturday (shoes you can make noise in). So, can sort of be justified. I can borrow the flamenco skirt. Will report back on this potential new activity next week. 

Days are closing in a bit and weather getting a bit cooler but still revelling in the 'new'.

Cherry pie

This is the heliotrope plant in the conservatory.

I'd not smelled heliotrope in flower form until this past weekend. Experienced it in various fragrances -- most recently, Etro Heliotrope -- but never the real thing.

The flower clusters are quite pretty, with their tightly formed heads. The colour, slightly darker than lavender with yellow throats, is also very attractive.

Apparently the name means to 'turn the face to the sun' (from the Greek: helios, sun, tropein, turn), which the flowers do during the course of the day. The plants can grow to be quite tall -- several feet, in fact.

I believe heliotrope is used in a number of fragrances to impart the smell of almond, But there is a sweet, cherry aspect to the smell of the flowers themselves.

The Etro Heliotrope was very almondy, not too sweet, and quite delicate. Ethereal, I'd say.

I also had a look at the notes for Serge Lutens' Rahat Loukoum, which I've never had the chance to smell, but have heard and read about, and which is supposed to have a pronounced almond-cherry vibe. The notes for this show almond and cherry kernal, but no heliotrope.

There is heliotrope in Lutens' Daim Blond. I don't recall the smell of this so much as the feel of it -- the soft, beige suede aspect of the fragrance. Heliotrope also appears in Datura Noir, another Lutens I've never had a stab at.

I had a look for notes for Dior Hypnotic Poison, which has a pronounced almond note, but did not come up with heliotrope.

One of the new pleasures of living down here in Devon is the access, in the garden of the house in which we live, to fragranced plants I haven't previously come across. So, that's a theme I hope to follow -- in bits and pieces.

Some serious beautiful

Not fragrance today.

Last night, I went to the films and saw La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet. This is some serious beautiful. Although it has nothing to do with fragrance (unless we're talking sweat, blood and bunions), the intensity of it made me think you'd have to be a serious lover or have a real appreciation to sit through the two-and-a-half hours -- and I guess the intensity made me think of perfume and perfumistas.

This is hardcore dance, with some gorgeous pictures of Paris floating through it to break things up.

Released in 2009, Frederick Wiseman's documentary follows practice, performance and some other stuff at the Paris Opera Ballet. The troup does both classical and modern dance -- and the dancers are superb, tackling different genres with the same concentration, ability, grace and intensity.  

The last three films I saw in the cinema were Up, Ice Age 3 and How to Train Your Dragon, so you can see why I'm so ga-ga over an adult (not that kind of adult) film. But beyond that this was just terrific to watch, holding my attention for the whole nine yards.

I doubt it would be in anything but arty cinemas at that point. But, if you do rentals, I highly recommend this (maybe have champagne with your popcorn, though, rather than Coke).

Tomorrow, we're looking at Heliotrope.

The first of the new perfumes

I know spring is usually viewed as the season of renewal, but here at Scent-and-Sensibility Perfume autumn is proving to be a time of the new.

Today, I have the pleasure of announcing the first set of new fragrances which will be available on the site this autumn.

I have added two perfumes from wonderful avant garde Italian perfumer Hilde Soliani to stock.

Vecchi Rossetti is from Hilde's second line which revolves around the theatre, Teatro Olfattivo Parma. This gorgeous fragrance is the smell of a theatre after a successful performance: makeup, floor wax, wood, the flowers thrown on the stage to celebrate the prowess of the actor. Strange, beautiful, evocative, memorable, Vecchi Rosetti is available in 100ml bottles of eau de parfum and 2ml spray sample vials.

CiocoRosissimo is a wholly different animal. An unusual gourmand from Hilde's third line, Profumo E Gusto In Libera, the fragrance features unsweet chocolate and rose, with grass notes, vanilla and woods. It is full and voluptuous. It too is available in 100ml bottles of eau de parfum and 2ml sprays.

New

The man-cub started at his new school this morning. New uniform, school-run via bike path (him sitting on bike seat -- me pushing -- lots of bike riders smiling at him), going along estuary. Bit different to walk through London streets. Holding breath that everything goes ok today.

There is a point on the bike path, right alongside the Lympstone Commando Marine Base (yup, that's on school run -- no target practice today), that consistently smells of Doritos corn chips. Go figure. We pondered that on our way.

I did Exeter Debenhams' scent hall yesterday (Pokemon enabling again). Much of a sameness. So, I tried Bleu de Chanel, the new (or new old) masculine, and L'Eau d'Issey. Both on paper.

Won't be revisiting either. However, read the review of Bleu on NowSmellThis, which points out it's a lot better on skin than paper, and I'd only gotten it on a blotter (on which it smells generic bergamot-woody-sporty male). Kevin says don't go by the scent on paper. In any case, the bottle is gorgeous, with a wonderful, tight (maybe magnetic) cap. Real pleasure to hold and play with.

L'Eau d'Issey, which I expect you all know, is melon-aquatic -- and so not my thing I had no desire to put it on my skin. At. All. Still, interesting to sniff on the blotter and I 'get' why someone would be interested in this.

Now. I got a package yesterday. We'll talk more about that next week.

Huh? and preparing for the new

Maureen stuck her wrists under my nose last night. Head whipped round after smelling the right one. Molinard Habanita: tobacco, hay, something skank and aldehydes. Wow. Doesn't do that on me. Sweaty flamenco dancer after a seriously good night.

Speaking of which, there's a Saturday flamenco class in Exeter. I'm going to check out the taster class in a few weeks. If it seems a go I get to purchase a pair of great dancing shoes and long swishy skirt.

Now. The man-cub starts at his new school tomorrow. So, good thought requested. He's a bit nervous. Very different from his London primary. Half the size for one thing. And they get to go surfing in Cornwall come springtime.

Pokemon club this afternoon. So, a bit of fun to balance out the nerves. I'll check out the Debenhams scent hall and report back.