Le Civette & Unicorn: Figue de Collonges, Vetyver Coeur, Buddhas Orange, Mille-Feuille, and Lune de Turenne mini-reviews

Well, my French holiday in the Limousin seems a distant memory now that autumn is enveloping us in its dank, leaf mouldy folds, but I promised you a Part 3 in my series of posts about the trip, in which I would feature the fragrances L and I sampled at Le Civette & Unicorn, the bijou artisanal perfumery upon which I was so delighted and surprised to stumble.

So accordingly, I am sitting down with a cup of tea - I draw the line at a tisane (alien, frondy things) - in one of my duo of rustic mugs from nearby Turenne, having spent some more time this week testing a selection of perfumes from Le Civette & Unicorn's signature range. It bears repetition that the fragrances have a very high percentage of naturals in them - as high as 'P' the (English expat!) nose could contrive, basically. And now I am ready to channel happy memories of my stay with L by writing up my impressions of these scents. Which have made the journey back to Britain much more successfully than retsina is famously wont not to do after island hopping holidays in Greece. Oh, and the mini-reviews that follow are in no particular order.

FIGUE DE COLLONGES

P and his wife describe this fig-based scent as the 'marmite' in the collection, and on first sniff I wasn't at all sure about it myself. However, Figue has grown on me over time, and its curious accords continue to tantalise and intrigue. From Le Civette & Unicorn's website:

"The end of a summers evening, underneath a fig tree, savour the sweetness of the fruit and the freshness of the leaf."

Now we are not even at Buddhas Orange yet, but note that P seems to be refreshingly parsimonious with his apostrophes. He is also parsimonious with note lists, come to that, and if you are relying on yours truly to 'parse' the notes in Figue you'll be waiting a long time. P did mention that he wanted to capture every bit of the fig tree - and there is a strong woody vibe to the scent for sure, not just woodiness - but also (to my nose) almost a whiff of liqueur in an aged oak barrel. Don't ask me what liqueur, as I am on shaky ground with spirits once we get beyond gin. But something sweet and woody and seemingly laced with alcohol.

My own trials at sniffing 'the whole of the fig'

Going back to his 'capturing the whole fig' mission, P mentioned that he likes to take fig leaves and rub them between his hands to release as much of the aroma of the plant as possible. I can't recall if he does the same with the actual figs - I am thinking that could get messy. And amusingly, L remembers P saying that he rubs the fig leaves between his thighs, but I have double-checked with P and this turns out to be a 'figment' of her imagination. Maybe the mention of 'fig leaf' subliminally relocated the crushing action to a lower part of the anatomy... But moving on, Figue de Collonges has that oddball quality that sets it apart from other fig scents that are more accessible and fruity, and I reckon it would appeal to lovers of niche scents that really smell different from the herd. (That's the scents, not the lovers, though they may do too.) Think Ava Luxe Fig Wood as your starting point but with a dark, unfamiliar twist.

Some weeks later...

BUDDHAS ORANGE

Without further ado, here is the un-apostrophised Buddhas Orange. I just want to make it quite clear to readers that this has Nothing To do With me. Now had it been reversed as 'Orange Buddhas' that would have been perfectly fine. I have found quite a lot of orange buddhas in Google images, as it happens, whose significance - apart from being imbued with a Tango'ed glow - I have yet to fathom. A little bit more digging reveals that 'orange buddhas' are a type of pill. And no, don't ask what kind, but suffice to say we are not exactly talking Haliborange.**

Source: Wikimedia Commons (via Milei.vencel)

"A Sandalwood Heart with notes of orange and incense which reflect the spirituality of the Buddist temples.  An invitation to travel to faraway places."

As you can see, P is up to his random capitalising tricks again here, while also engaging in a spot of 'h' dropping, all of which I find frankly endearing. And we have references to three notes in the composition, which I might just about have managed to guess myself. Buddhas Orange is probably in my top two of the perfumes I tested: the orange of the opening is bright and fruity, with a rosy facet; you can already detect the undertow of wood and incense, which gains prominence as the scent develops. There is also a light dusting of spice throughout - cinnamon, clove? But it is very subtle, and I doubt that it would offend even those who are 'agin' spicy notes as a rule. Buddhas Orange has a meditative quality, but the upbeat orange note stops it from veering into more austere monastic territory - the perfume equivalent of one of those Trappist orders, say. It reminded me a little of Baume du Doge, but without the heavier dollops of spices and vanilla in the base. It is simple but effective, conveying an upbeat cheeriness grounded by zen-like calm.

Source: Exquisite Artz

VETYVER COEUR

This was L's favourite, though I don't believe she has any prior exposure to vetiver as a note in perfumery. I am not really a fan myself, but this scent makes it into my top three, on account of the stunning incense in the base, that was particularly amplified on L's skin, though not so much on my own. I kept catching whiffs of her sillage as we walked around Collonges after our visit to the perfumery, and simply had to lean in and sniff her every time, however 'Well of Loneliness' that may have looked to passersby. You may recall from my earlier post that Vetyver Coeur is thought to be the first perfume in the world to use Malawian vetiver. Here again is the amusing story of P's involvement in its production. Vetyver Coeur gets a much fuller write up on the website too, though I shall only quote a couple of snippets:

"Our very special Vetyver Coeur fragrance is made with special high altitude Lavender, Tonka Bean absolute and 13 other essential oils to make a beautifully smooth, rich woody fragrance. Its aroma is clean, complex, subtle..."

"For both earthy men and women." Ha! Great. ;)

I would not have known Vetyver Coeur had lavender in it, never mind a special high altitude variety, and I am usually good at picking out the note, being even less keen on lavender than I am on vetiver. So it is all the more of a testament to the fragrance that I liked it as much as I did. Not so much the opening salvo, mind, which read a bit 'grassy', strongly earthy and manly on me - still with incense present from the off, but in a back seat role at this point - but definitely as the scent wore on, and became suffused by the soft and creamy tonka bean.

Source: MAJI Project, Malawi

MILLE-FEUILLE

When I hear the word mille-feuille, I can't help but think of those layered pastry slices filled with patisserie cream/custard. Especially the one Nick Gilbert ordered at a perfume meet up in Shoreditch, which struck us as the epitome of such a delicacy. I may even have photographic evidence somewhere. I do!

The particular mille-feuille which lends its name to this fragrance is in fact "l'achillée mille-feuille', or 'yarrow' in English. 

"A fresh perfume inspired by the Correzian Countryside: the spring sunshine, the hay, the warm flowers with notes of sugar and wood."

Now the French text on the website has the actual word for yarrow rather than 'warm flowers', which doesn't give English readers much of an idea of how the scent smells. The opening of Mille-Feuille is a big soapy spring bouquet, shot through with something astringent and more herbal that isn't immediately identifiable to my nose. My elderly friend thought the opening smelt a bit like shampoo and I know what she means. (Herbal Essences shampoo, maybe?!) You could be forgiven for thinking Mille-Feuille was more conventionally synthetic - more mainstream, say - yet this wrongfooting impression is shortlived, for soon the singular scent of yarrow emerges and hits its stride. It is a little bit like chrysanthemums, or...no, I am at a loss to say quite what it smells like! By the far drydown, Mille-Feuille is down to a few hundred leaves and is a sherbety, faintly herbal whisper. I can't think of another perfume with yarrow in it - or certainly none with yarrow to the fore like this - so hats off to P for daring to showcase the flower in this way. But then the whole collection of Le Civette & Unicorn is inspired by the local area and/or his travels, and is categorically not driven by any 'safe' and obvious commercial considerations.

And I can't leave any consideration of yarrow without a passing reference to the flower's genus of Achillea, named after the Greek hero Achilles, he of the Trojan wars fame. Achilles learnt about the medicinal properties of the plant from Chiron, the elder centaur of Greek mythology - not the model of Bugatti, just to be clear. For this reason yarrow rejoices in a bunch of other graphic names, mostly to do with the business of administering first aid: "nosebleed plant, old man's pepper, devil's nettle, sanguinary, soldier's woundwort, and thousand-seal."

Source: Wikimedia Commons (via Fritzflohrreynolds)

LUNE DE TURENNE

And here comes my favourite scent of the lot, and the one with which I have the most personal associations...

"On top of Turenne Hill at night in the summer, watching the full moon rise, a soft breeze breathes by you carrying the scent of the warm night and white flowers."

My mugs from Turenne

On the night of her birthday, having already sat outside in the garden from 6pm till 1am drinking, eating and talking (account of my shopping exploits here) - oh, and half of that time in near complete darkness! - L suddenly suggested we go for a postprandial stroll. I am pretty sure that the amount of drink we had both imbibed that night had a lot to do with her making the suggestion - and with my eager acceptance of it. Even at that late hour it was invitingly warm, and we were the only people still up in the now silent village. Soon we had passed the last house and L led us down a wooded lane by the side of a field. The moonlight created a dappled effect through the canopy of trees overhead, lighting our way along the stony track. Eventually the path disgorged us into open countryside - a field with a vast wraparound view - for this part of the Limousin does the kind of enormous horizons I normally associate with certain US states. The sky was a deep inky blue, dotted with constellations of stars, while broad spokes of light radiated out from the nearly full moon in all directions like the pointy ends of a jester's hat. Indeed the 'man on the moon' had something of the look of a sad Pierrot about him. And so we stood there in awe staring at the huge sky, with only a chorus of crickets for company, before finally stumbling back to the village and our beds at gone 2am...

Now that wasn't 'Turenne Hill' of course, or any hill for that matter, though we did go up it the next day...plus we certainly had our fair share of Lune outside L's village that night!

Turenne Hill!

As for how this scent smells, it is a pillowy cloud of jasmine and honeysuckle - sweet, but not excessively so, thanks to the addition of another sprinkling of spices and a touch of oakmoss in the woody, musky base. But sweet nonetheless. And even though those notes might sound familiar enough in themselves, I cannot think of another perfume that smells like Lune de Turenne. As with Mille-Feuille and yarrow, there aren't too many scents that I can bring to mind with honeysuckle in a leading role. I like Lune de Turenne very much because of its undemanding, dreamy quality. The white flowers are demure rather than raunchy, and the overall impression is of a scent that is diffuse and fluffy - almost marshmallowy, but not in a tooth rotting way. The same vibe as Prada Candy, maybe, but less gourmand, and with a white flowers spin on that. 

P's idea of 'samples'(!)

So there you have it. Just five examples from Le Civette & Unicorn's signature range - with its strong natural bias, quirky vibe, and affordable price tag. (The bottles range from 22 euros to 58 euros for a whopping 100ml, all in eau de toilette strength.) And though P was more than generous in his supply of samples as you can see above, I can promise you that I was always planning to feature the range on here even if I had only had my paper strips to go on. In which case this review would have been in a long time ago! ;)

** Editor's note: Following a subsequent exchange with P, I have established that he was hitherto unacquainted with the aforementioned orange pills, and accordingly any link between the scent Buddhas Orange and certain transcendental experiences beyond those normally achieved by orthodox meditation techniques is entirely coincidental. P couldn't resist engaging in a spot of googling himself, mind, and came up with this quote, which tells you everything you didn't need to know about these happy pills and their devotees(!).

"orange buddhas are the perfect pill yo i love em, and they are my fave. they give me the mood that i want, like when i wana dance, ill have a speedy roll, when i wanna chill, ill have a mellow roll."

Le Civette & Unicorn, Collonges-La-Rouge: another holiday in the Limousin - Part 2

Collonges-La-Rouge

I so wanted to call this post 'Le Civette, L'Unicorn, et Le (Scent) Wardrobe', but that would have interfered with the integrity of the company name for starters, while the pun is tenuous at best in any case. Where is the witch, I hear you ask? Civet cats and lions may be considered loosely related, and unicorns are in fact mentioned in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - and The Last Battle - but they are resolutely absent from those books' titles.

I would also like to have conveyed just how astonished and delighted I was to stumble across this artisanal perfumery - one of only a handful such enterprises in Europe where the perfumer lives on site, creating and making fragrances from start to finish - in the small commune of Collonges-La-Rouge.  This fairytale village is about a hour's drive from my friend L's house - 45 minutes if her navigator had spotted the turn off for Toulouse first time round - and draws visitors on account of its quaint cobbled streets and the deep red sandstone of its buildings. Think Caldy Hill on The Wirral. Er...that is perhaps a rather obscure analogy, but it may mean something to someone!

Caldy Hill: 'Does this house look red to you?'

And when I say touristy, the many gift shops in Collonges-La-Rouge mainly sold what ex-Mr Bonkers would have referred to generically as 'high quality tat'. L bought a charming little bib for a baby that was about to be born to her next door neighbour, and I would have bought a bar of brown soap(!) - which some of my Facebook friends may recall as being a bit of a holy grail quest of mine - had it not cost 5 euros, and not been quite small enough either. I also found a surprise purveyor of scented discs that looked just like guest soaps - some of which were even brown - but which turned out to be pebbles impregnated with fragrance. And you can't wash yourself in those. (Their potential as pumice stones also seemed moot.)

So yes, reverting to the title for a moment, that is a rather lame effort by my standards, but any more would have constituted an unseemly mouthful. To make up for its uncharacteristic terseness, I will be as fulsome as possible in the body of the post about how excited I was to chance upon this scented gem in a surprise twist of serendipity. Stepping into the perfumery's dark and inviting interior - offering shade from the near 30C heat outside - my eye was immediately drawn to two prominent displays of their in-house range of perfumes. Speaking of gems, the shop also sold crystals and incense - and probably soap! - and knick-knacks and ethnic bits and bobs that I must admit to barely clocking, so intent was I on systematically sampling the Civette & Unicorn's perfumes.

I soon got chatting to a young sales assistant - it took all of ten seconds for us to realise we were both English, and promptly drop the old 'when in Rome' routine. She gave us both a quick run down of the range, and I came clean about being a blogger, in the act of asking permission to take photos of the fragrance fixtures and store generally. The SA said she would see if someone could come out and talk to me at more length about the brand. She wasn't hopeful that the perfumer himself would emerge, as he was known for being a bit of a recluse, but soon returned with his wife instead. Then to my surprise her husband joined her after a few minutes, and for the next hour(?) - I lost all track of time! - we were off, shooting the breeze about the industry (including the swapping of mischievous anecdotes over which I shall draw a veil ;) ), hearing about the inspiration behind the scents and their creative ethos, as well as details of the company's supply chain, and the care it takes to invest in sustainable / Fairtrade-type ingredients from round the world.

Before going any further, I should point out that the perfumer behind the Civette & Unicorn range prefers to go incognito. I shall call him 'P', because he was erroneously referred to by a name beginning with 'P' in a feature in a local newspaper. Note that his first name does not begin with 'P', but it will serve us nicely here. I can reveal that he and his wife (whose actual name begins with 'L', but whom I shall dub 'M' to distinguish her from my friend) are both English, and hail from near Bath. P mentioned a son, who has just finished at Bristol University, walking its corridors some 80 years after my father. Trust me, he doesn't look old enough.

Oh, and I should also tip you the wink that P is a Naturally Big - and not Always consistent - Capitaliser. I have reduced almost all of these to lower case, as I initially found them Ever so slightly Distracting, but have left one or two in because they are also Quite Endearing. ;)

"I really want the products to speak for themselves and not let myself get in the way. I dislike the fake celebrity culture that is prevalent in current society and now creeping into branding Perfumers and even Scientists (apparently). My place is out in Nature, gathering some wild plants for a small alembic distillation, which happens from time to time, and more in the future."

Source: Wikimedia Commons (grassrootsgroundswell)

A key point to note about the Civette & Unicorn line is its extensive use of essential oils:

"I'd estimate twice the amount of naturals by type used than the bigger companies would use...and they are mixed with Organic plant-derived alcohol, some filtered water, chilled and filtered - all at the EDT level."

"To sum up, I have my feet in both worlds: I appreciate the energetics and what naturals can bring, but there is also a place for traditional perfumery, albeit with a little bit of Unicorn magic added, and I try and bring that to both of those fragrant disciplines**."

Another noteworthy point is the affordability of the range, which starts at just 21.60 euros for 100ml of the men's fragrance 19500, (named after the postcode of Corrèze), while the most expensive scent and latest release, Lune de Turenne, is 58 euros. Not that that in any sense marks a progression, I don't suppose. No, I imagine the prices reflect the particular mix of ingredients - and in the case of 19500, an overriding wish to keep the product as affordable as possible for the local market, where the wages of a farm labourer (the typical local punter) are around 13-14,000 euros. The model in this promotional photo is in fact a waiter known to P. But notwithstanding its keen pricing, there are 35 natural oils in 19500! Or was it 32? A lot, anyway.

"I have always believed in making prices fair rather than going for the maximum price point based on how much hype and USPs you can tag around it. I like to remember the saying: 'a good deal is when buyer and seller are both happy'."

I was also curious to learn about P's past career. He has worked in the essential oil trade for 25 years - at different levels - from supplying some of the 'big manufacturers' to selling into the retail trade. When he was just 19 he landed a job in Cairo with an Egyptian manufacturer of essential oils and absolutes, herbs and spices, which served as an important grounding in the nuts and bolts of the fragrance business. (Please ignore any apparent reference to ground nuts.)

P's love of fragrance can in fact be traced back to his boyhood:

"I first created a fragrance at 8, when pipettes were glass with Black Rubber ends you swapped over, and I was allowed into a perfumer's laboratory alone on occasional Saturdays to sniff all the bottles and jars (Grenouille-style), and replicate the amber/chypre soap smell I loved from family holidays in the Balearics. As a teenager I contemplated training as a perfumer, but didn't want to get lost in a big company. Thatcherism was high and so I took another direction for a while until the trade called me back."

Source: Wikimedia Commons 

I also wanted to know how the shop came by its name.

"I had imagined a small shop in Collonges-La-Rouge for a few years, when the time was right. Being descended from a London family I always admired the name and logo of the 18th century shop 'Ye Olde Civette Cat', in the same way William Blake pulls me more than other Poets. That name has been used by a blogger, I believe, and when exploring names with my wife last year it just popped in, or revealed itself...The unicorn represents that touch of magic for the brand, and hopefully is needed back in perfumery, as much of it is just too commercial. I hope I can bring a touch of Alchemy back with the use of lots of natural and other things....It was the Alchemists gave the name of 'essential' to the oils from plants, the Quinta Essentia component - think 5th Element (not the film with Bruce Willis) but the Philosopher's Stone, no less!"

I had to google Quinta Essentia, and as well as its core meaning of 'Fifth Essence' or element, came up with this impressive superyacht.

Source: Wikimedia Commons (Tony Hisgett)

Hmm, it just struck me that the French word for 'unicorn' is 'licorne', so the name is a mix of French and English - like P and M and their adopted home, indeed - was that perhaps by design?

Going back to the notion of ingredient sourcing, here is the entertaining background to P's source of vetiver, used in Vetyver Coeur. It would be even more entertaining if I were to disclose every amusing detail...!

"Did I mention the Vetyver Coeur fragrance is the First Vetiver fragrance in the world to use Malawian vetiver? I was personally involved in quite a few visits there with smuggling in glass alembic equipment (import taxes are so high), and digging and distilling root stock from many different villages until the best one was found. It turned out the local village farmer was [....mischievous anecdote...], so some of his vetiver rootstock was purchased not by money, but with giving him Corrugated Iron Sheets for his roof, which is a big statement that you have made it. Forget that White Range Rover, personal plate and Tinted Glass, an iron roof is enough out there. The project is to supplement the income of smallholders, ethically harvest (part harvest), and importantly reduce soil erosion and the dependency on tobacco companies who pay less than peanuts for tobacco."

Which begs the question how much people might pay for peanuts? I interviewed a peanut farmer once - about his tractor lubricant, admittedly, rather than crop remuneration. Hold on, it might have been almonds (or even raisins), but the same principle applies.

I also couldn't help but notice a framed photo of Prince Charles on the wall, so of course I had to winkle out the story behind that.

"Prince Charles I met as a Photographer (and trustee of a UK-based African charity) in Sierra Leone, as the Charity I gave my time to had sponsored an organic vegetable garden at a High School there 5 years previously - it had been kept alive in a self-sufficient way by the teachers, supplementing the kids' diet - so important in Africa - hence me giving my time to this charity. Prince Charles was visiting the school (everything smelt of cheap fresh paint - it's probably the same wherever he goes!), and the organic garden (which also had some animals in it) was of interest to him. Charles was relaxed at that point, as he was away from the pack of press photographers that reminded me of the Hyena puppets used in Spitting Image years ago, and he could be himself albeit for a moment, gazing with a pig."

P was a captivating raconteur, and it didn't get much better than this tale of royalty and livestock in perfect harmony. ;)

Now in all our animated chat I had all but forgotten that it was L's birthday, and had been letting this fascinating fragrant find ride rough shod over her festivities! At one point she thoughtfully offered to go away and have a bit more of a wander round the village and come back again. On her return, P and I wrapped up our discussion, as it would have been seriously bad manners to have hijacked any more of L's special day.

And I think that is probably enough for this post. Part 3 will cover the scents themselves, my own favourites from the line, the special 'fig rubbing test'(!), and L's visceral reaction to one perfume in particular....


PS Long term readers may remember that this wasn't in fact the first time I wandered into a shop and chanced upon a perfumer...see this account of how I bumped into Zsolt Zólyomi in Hungary.

**Editor's note - P is also working on a ('long overdue') range of perfumes made entirely from essential oils, absolutes and resins, hence his foot in both creative camps.

Post-prandial photo in the shady garden of a creperie.