Illuminum White Gardenia Petals Review: Update

Back in early May, I reviewed Illuminum White Gardenia Petals, the perfume worn by the Duchess of Cambridge on her wedding day. My review was based on a carded sample supplied by Roullier White, the single UK stockist.

In July I received a complimentary bottle of White Gardenia Petals, and was startled and disappointed to find that it seemed to bear little or no resemblance to the sample I already owned. I enlisted the help of Olfactoria of Olfactoria's Travels, who had herself purchased a full bottle around the time of the wedding, and together we were able to compare old and new versions, and were both convinced that the two scents were not the same.

As a first step, I sent my bottle and the original sample back to Roullier White, asking them to investigate this curious discrepancy. The store referred my query to Illuminum's PR company, with whom I have kept in regular touch over the past few months. They agree that there is a clear difference between the two versions of the scent and inquiries into the matter are ongoing. So far the version reviewed by Olfactoria and me (and quite possibly by others) has been traced to a small production batch - the second one made.

So if the soapy, musky "demure white floral in a veil" which I reviewed here is not White Gardenia Petals, how does the correct version of the scent smell?

For reference, here are the notes again:

Notes: gardenia, lily, ylang ylang, muguet, jasmine, amber woods.

Well, I am sorry to report that on my skin official White Gardenia Petals is a sharper, greener, more metallic scent. I do detect a gardenia note in the opening, but it is not veiled and softened by powdery musk as is the case with my original sample. Instead, it comes off as a tad strident and indolic. The early sample of White Gardenia Petals sits on my wrist like a muzzy, soapy cloud with a pretty floral bouquet at its heart, while the correct version of White Gardenia Petals feels more sheer and airy somehow. I see a slight crossover with Annick Goutal's Un Matin d'Orage, but it does not share that scent's limpid, dewy facet, and is at times reminiscent of a functional fragrance like fabric softener. Of the two, I will say that the correct version of White Gardenia Petals smells more like gardenias, possibly because the floral notes are not hidden behind a musky haze, or maybe because there weren't any gardenias in the erroneous batch of this scent anyway. Time will perhaps tell, but meanwhile I just wanted to draw readers' attention to the fact that my review - like that of Olfactoria - is based on the same fragrance, which is not, however, the official version of White Gardenia Petals available to buy today.


Photo of The Duchess of Cambridge from rumahaini.com, photo of gardenias from mgonline.com

Stafford's Own Kate Middleton: She May Be A Lookalike, But Is She Also A Smellalike?

Following the recent royal tour of Canada, Kate Middleton's popularity is on the ascendant. The word on the street is that she could soon attain the iconic status of Princess Diana, without any recourse to peeping coyly from under her fringe, or batting of spider's leg lashes. Personally I am fixated by her svelte silhouette, and imagine her vital organs jostling for position above and below the Panama Canal of her waist.

Yes, everyone wants a piece of our Kate, and as the runaway success of Illuminum White Gardenia Petals demonstrates, a lot of people are happy to conjure up the Duchess in a bottle with every spritz of her wedding scent.

And for those who haven't managed to catch a glimpse of Kate Middleton in person, or snag a bottle of White Gardenia Petals, there might be a chance to see Kate Bevan instead, her 22 year old professional lookalike - who is originally from Wolverhampton and lives in Stafford!

Now as it happens, the chemist featured in my last post is no ordinary neighbourhood pharmacy. Though not on account of its woefully limited fragrance selection - that is par for the course, more or less. No, the chemist in question has hit the national press because it was there that Kate Bevan worked as a pharmaceutical assistant until she got her lucky career break!

People had often remarked on the resemblance between the two Kates, but from the engagement onwards things really took off. "Nearly everyone who comes through the pharmacy door makes a comment and gawps in total shock", she told The Daily Mail last November. "I went out to buy a sandwich for my lunch and I was stopped four times by people in the street."

Kate Bevan got married herself last May, but she reckons her husband Nathan looks more like Harry than William, and William is apparently not her type...

In the spirit of verisimilitude, Kate Bevan also took elecution lessons to lose her West Midlands accent and sound more of a sophisticated southerner.

Now, because Kate Bevan's job as a professional lookalike is to be a top to toe replica of her namesake, if she hasn't already done so she should research the Duchess's scent wardrobe. Apart from White Gardenia Petals, I received a tip off to the effect that Kate Middleton wears Narciso Rodriguez For Her EDT, and her liking for Dune is well documented.

And it goes without saying that if Kate Bevan wishes to smell the part, she will need to look beyond the perfume range of the chemist where her newfound stardom all began...


Photos of Kate Bevan from zimbio.com, profimedia.si and expressandstar.com

Pump Down The Volume: Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561 Fiore Di Riso - A Careful Whisper Of A Scent

Over on Boisdejasmin the other day, Victoria had written a review of Christian Dior New Look 1947, which - relative to her expectations for this scent - she found disappointing and lacking in chutzpah: "Such a beautiful idea certainly deserves to make a grander statement." Along with several other commenters, I weighed in with my own liking for this scent, however flawed the olfactory interpretation of a "red lipstick glamour look". Sweet cold cream and talc accord, bring it on, I say! I don't mind if it is a silk slip scent and not a wasp waisted pencil skirt teamed with a fur bolero.

Yes, as anyone who knows me will tell you, as long as my nose can physically register a fragrance, it can't be too wispy and nuanced for me. I have already waxed wimpy on this very topic in my review of Calvin Klein's recent feminine release, Beauty, arguing my point that "blandness is in the eye of the beholder".

Which brings me next to an article in our local paper last week, defending my adopted home town of Stafford from a charge levelled at it in the latest edition of The Lonely Planet travel guide that it is "a quiet little place, overshadowed by other towns in the county". The indignant journalist entitled her rebuttal: "Why our town is far from quiet..." and went on to list a whole clatter of events in support of her argument, ranging from the annual open air Shakespeare production, to a half marathon, town centre cycle race, plus a music and arts festival. So far, so sporadic...of which more anon. But the bit she wrote that absolutely tickled me - for its sheer grandiose irrelevance - is this: "the award-winning Victoria Park, (and) our river Sow that runs through the centre of the town".

Since when did a park or a river constitute cultural hustle and bustle, never mind the beating heart of the town's night - or even daytime - life? It is a park, for goodness' sake. Flowers grow and die back. Old men sit on benches. One or two may attempt to lie on them, till a special constable politely moves them on. Oh, and the river running through? Well, in case anyone is wondering, Stafford is not a famous centre for white water rafting...the river Sow drifts along quietly, suffering occasional bouts of indigestion from clumps of weed and the odd supermarket trolley.

I said above: "So far, so sporadic", for when the only events you can wheel out as evidence of a jumping community are annual - or static/stagnant civic amenities such as parks and waterways - you know you are protesting too much. Take it from me, Stafford is an uneventful place. From Monday to Thursday the wind whistles eerily through the deserted town centre, while on a Friday and Saturday night there are plenty of people about, some baring unseasonal expanses of flesh, staggering, throwing up and/or looking for a fight.

Yes, Stafford is quiet, and that is fine by me. And quiet scents are also fine, like my latest discovery, Fiore di Riso, the new release from the snappily named Italian house, Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561. Thanks to lovethescents for the sample of this one - the very name filled me with eager expectation: "rice flower" sounds so delicate and ethereal. That's never going to reek of camphor, or turps, or knock-your-block-off tuberose, or a badger's bottom - no, not with an apologetic name like "rice flower", surely. It sounds meek and demure and unassuming, and - unlike New Look for Victoria - the scent turns out to be wholly consistent with its name.

Luckyscent lists the notes as follows:

White flowers, ginger, vanilla, sandalwood, oakmoss

Then I found a completely different note pyramid on the website of an Italian online boutique:

Mandarin, bergamot, rose, jasmine, vanilla, tonka bean, benzoin

Which in turn prompted me to turn to the website of Farmacia SS Annunziata dal 1561 itself, where I found some very elegant shots of their premises, but next to nothing on the fragrances themselves.

So instead, here is an extract from the Luckyscent website:

"Fiore di Riso is a soft, sophisticated skin fragrance with dreamy vanillic facets. The lightness of the white flowers gives way to a comforting, sweet, sandalwood undertone.... Not overly sweet, not very floral, Fiore di Riso is creamy and warm..."

I would agree with this summary of Fiore di Riso, and to be honest, the uncertainty about the note listing almost doesn't matter, as I can't detect much in the way of specifics anyway! On me it starts out quite sweet - vanilla-y and noticeably woody, with a very muted hint of florals that keep the scent from veering into overt gourmand territory, not that I would have minded that. It is more restrained than Love's True Bluish Light, shall we say.

It is in fact a foody vanilla scent given the Illuminum White Gardenia Petals or the New Look 1947 treatment - ie majorly reined in (nearly wrote "reigned in" - must be the Kate Middleton connection!), before ending up as the merest wisp of a vanillic floral. The wood is very smooth and I don't get any ginger at all, though maybe it is working behind the scenes to nip any gourmand tendencies in the bud. Nor do I have the faintest clue what white flowers might be involved here, despite the mention of jasmine and rose in the second note listing. Fiore de Riso is less powdery than White Gardenia Petals, but belongs to the same olfactory demographic - a polite, dainty, barely there white floral.

As you can imagine, I thought Fiore di Riso would be an ideal contender to present to Mr Bonkers for his critique. I have been on a bit of a roll, frankly, since the surprise hit of Le Labo Labdanum 18, and was quietly hopeful that he couldn't object to this one.

"Is it soap? It's not bad. It's inoffensive."

Pause.

"Yup, I guess in your terms an 'inoffensive' from me counts as a raging endorsement."

(He means compared with "fly spray", "craft shop", "eugh, take it away!" and "GET OUT OF THE ROOM NOW!")

Yes, and "inoffensive" is a raging endorsement from me too. Let's make some noise for quiet scents!


Photo of Fiore di Riso from fragrantica.com, photo of Stafford town centre from yourlocalweb.co.uk, photo of Victoria Park from flickr, photo of rice flower from flash-screen.com, photo of Farmacia SS Annunziata dal 1561 shop from alessionesi.it

Fascination Perfumery - Part 1: On The Prowl In Fougère Royale, Le Mimosa Le Mishmash, And What The Duchess Wore Next...

So I was up in Blackpool at the weekend, visiting my Scandal- - and now Flora Bella- and Plum- - loving friend (note exemplary use of the double hyphen there), and on the way home of course I couldn’t resist calling into Fascination Perfumery in Lytham, the Les Senteurs of the North, as I dubbed it once. Well, that is not strictly fair, as Fascination combines mainstream and niche in about a 50/50 ratio, and doesn’t carry some of the more limited distribution stuff like Parfumerie Générale, say, which is not to say they wouldn’t love to – and one day maybe will.

But anyway, I have got into the habit of popping into the store unannounced and the pattern I now readily drop into with the manager, Lynn(e) - still haven’t bottomed out the matter of the floating “e” - is that we engage in staccato bursts of conversation, which immediately subside if a customer walks in, whereupon I melt into the background. I will typically loiter behind the masculine fixture (as in shelves, obviously), or stand off to the side by the Acqua di Parma display. However many times I go – and in fairness this is still only my third visit – Lynne (let's settle on the “e” for now) never fails to ask me my top five or ten scents, I guess because they might have changed in the intervening period. She will also fire a barrage of questions at me about new releases:

"What do you think of Acqua Fiorentina? And what about Jimmy Choo? Have you tried Opus V? Mon Jasmin Noir? Le Mimosa? Via Verri? And the new Serge? Yes, Jeux de Peau, that one. How about Jardin sur le Toit? Houbigant Fougère Royale – you must smell that one! And where do you stand on the L'Artisan range in general?”

And much, much more in that vein, on and off for the hour and a quarter I was there.

And in between our chats Lynne meets and greets the steady stream of regular customers who wander in. It feels less like a shop and more like one of those open house parties – you know, where you drop in anytime, stay for a short while and amble off again – only this time the people were leaving with one of the store’s distinctive black and white polka dot carrier bags…

At one point, Lynne had sprayed two male customers with Fougère Royale, and there was some good humoured joshing about which of them would manage to "pull" the only female in the store at the time (staff and myself excepted!) whilst wearing it. The lady in question was well into her seventies at a guess, and was resting on one of the two chairs by the door when she overheard the scented gauntlet being thrown down. Mischievously rising to the occasion, she immediately leapt to her feet and threw her arms round one of the two men sporting the Houbigant. It was a pure comedy moment, for which hopefully you didn’t necessarily have to be there!

Now you know how when perfumistas meet, they get straight down to business, sniffing each other like dogs and lamp posts – no, hold on, lamp posts serve a different function – well, I forgot to mention that when I arrived I went up to Lynne as soon as she came free, held my wrist out and announced: “Guess what? I smell like a duchess!”, echoing my Facebook comment from a week ago when I first acquired this sample of Kate Middleton's wedding scent. Lynne laughed and both she and her assistant Emma buried their noses in my wrist. Emma was slightly more taken with White Gardenia Petals than Lynne, but both prefer more full-bodied scents as a rule. I think they thought White Gardenia Petals was pretty, occasion-appropriate, but otherwise unremarkable. No matter – it is very “me” all right!

As we were on the subject of the new Duchess, Lynne let slip the fact that her bridal make up – or some combination of it, as we didn’t go into specifics – was by Shiseido. So I may be getting closer towards identifying that specific shade of pink lip gloss... And Lynne also had a juicy nugget of info, namely that not long ago Kate had reportedly been staying at the Duke of Westminster’s house (okay, house may be an understatement), and the lady-in-waiting clocked a black bottle of Narciso Rodriguez For Her EDT on the dressing table!

Right, so I have said at the top of this post “what the Duchess wore next”, which arguably involves a bit of poetic licence, because I don’t know for a fact that she will wear Narciso Rodriguez in future – whether on her honeymoon, where she has apparently now gone, or ever again. But surely if she owns a bottle of this – even if she now also owns Cambridge, or the whole of Cambridgeshire, making a bottle of scent either way a tad expendable – I think on balance that she is not one to waste resources. Yes, I shall stick my neck out and say there's a reasonable chance of future royal wearings of NR for Her. Perhaps the Duchess will toggle between that and Dune, whilst keeping White Gardenia Petals for high days and holidays. And not forgetting that bottle of Creed she may still have knocking about in cupboard, the one that also has royal connections!

Okay, so much for what we talked about – what did I smell?

Well, I clearly wasn’t going to get out of the store without sniffing the latest reworking of that Ur-cologne or Grandaddy of all masculines, Houbigant Fougère Royale (Lynne was pretty indiscriminate in spraying men and women alike!). After it had settled down a bit on my skin I thought it was surprisingly soft and wearable for a masculine, especially one with "Fougère" in the name. The reference to “Royale” - which turns out to be part of the name of the fern, with no regal associations whatsoever! - always registers as an intensifier with me, as in “a right royal cock up”. So I was pleasantly surprised by this scent and would recommend it for male friends looking for a classic fragrance with a modern twist. Having just checked the notes, I bet the reason I find Fougère Royale acceptable and not too barber’s shoppy is because of the “feminised”, oriental-style basenotes counterbalancing the usual herbal suspects in the rest of the composition:

Notes: bergamot, lavender, rosemary, carnation, cinnamon, geranium, rose de Mai, amber, patchouli, tonka

I also had a quick whiff of Amouage Opus V, just on card. It was a fleeting impression, but I got a marked iris note and a tolerable oud-y aspect. Stronger than Le Labo’s Oud 27, say, but staying the right side of Homage Attar, my ultimate oud nemesis.

Then I had a retrial of Annick Goutal’s Le Mimosa, sadly with a similar verdict to before. It was too big somehow for a mimosa scent – too “busy” in a fuzzy, fruity way, and with none of that bright, sherbety quality I so appreciate in L’Artisan’s Mimosa pour Moi. Yes, there was a definite weird fruit note in there that I really didn’t care for. I am lost for words to put my finger on why this was so wrong, although Comme des Garçon’s Daphne was also wrong in a similar way, as was Dior’s Escale aux Marquises. The notes just didn’t mesh well. Fortunately, here is Kevin of Now Smell This, who isn’t lost for words at all, and gets straight to the heart of this discordant “wrongness”.

“Le Mimosa opens with a dry, flat note that smells like a combination of pencil shavings, cumin powder, and ‘hairy’ leather. This slightly ‘dirty’ aroma marches thru the entire composition…only soap will remove it from skin. As Le Mimosa develops, I smell artificial ‘peach’ and I detect, for a split second, a puff of iris, a speck of anise, and some vague ‘citrus’. There’s plenty of white musk and the aforementioned ‘peach’ in Le Mimosa’s base, but none of Le Mimosa’s notes produces a scent with the aroma of fresh mimosa blossoms (if that’s what you are looking for or expecting).”

Phew! It isn’t just me then. See how Kevin is using inverted commas to physically distance himself from the distasteful ingredients. And what a criminal waste of a cute ribbon!

I also tried Cartier de Lune on card which was pretty and effortless – a clean, sparkling, radiant, marine? floral of some kind. It reminded me rather of Kenzo L’Eau par Kenzo, though the notes don’t really coincide.

Notes: pink pepper, juniper berries, honeysuckle, wild rose, cyclamen, bindweed (morning glory,) lily of the valley, musk, and woods.

It would be a pleasant office scent, but for lunar mystery and a kick in the solar plexus, I'll stick to Flora Bella. : - )

To be continued...




Photo of Lytham from nwprecast.com, photo of Houbigant Fougère Royale from fragrantica.com, photo of dressing table from thehomelook.blogspot.com, photo of NR for Her from beautysteals.com, photo of Le Mimosa from peonymelbourne.blogspot.com, photo of Cartier de Lune from escentual.com, store photo my own