Parfumerie Générale Brûlure De Rose: A Plethora Of Post-it Notes Prompts A Proxy Perfume Purchase

Okay, so I know I said that my very next post after my account of the Parfumerie Générale talk was going to be on bubble wrap. I realise that countless* readers (see footnote) who had been eagerly anticipating another feature on packaging materials may deem not one but TWO Pierre Guillaume posts in quick succession to be a completely unwarranted diversion from the promised theme. Yes, Pierre Guillaume is a creative genius with a large back catalogue of intriguing and unusual scents to his credit; yes, he is easy on the eye - or even stronger than that - hmm, what could be stronger than "easy"? Okay...yes, he is incredibly simple and straightforward on the eye - but at the end of the day, as a versatile protective packaging material Pierre Guillaume doesn't really cut it. Or wrap it, even. Let's face it, his iPhone doesn't even have a cover.

And to make matters worse, this post isn't even that one! No, it struck me that in the interests of chronology - a concept to which Bonkers is known to pay scant lip service at best - it might not go amiss to rewind to a couple of days before the talk: I invited my friend S round to have a play with my perfume collection, which resulted in her taking home samples of some 20 new perfumes which caught her fancy, including one that she had a sudden and burning desire to own...Brûlure de Rose.

In preparing for S's visit, I got out most of my full bottles (except for the albatrosses, which remained confined to their refrigerated quarters), together with some decants and samples in all the main scent styles I like, and plonked the whole lot on the dining room table. I then proceeded to arrange them (largely instinctively) in groups based on very loose fragrance categories, labelling them with Post-it notes for ease of reference.

I knew that S owned Serge Lutens Un Bois Vanille, but beyond that I had no pointers as to her taste. Shortly after we sat down, S explained that she had worn Chanel No 5 in the past and still liked it, so I decided to park the vanilla scent group for the moment and dive straight into the "Aldehydes". I was surprised to learn that my collection featured quite a number of "aldehyde-forward" scents, from Ines de la Fressange to Balenciaga Le Dix, and two of these - Esprit d'Oscar and Chanel No 5 Eau Première - were an instant hit with my friend.

Inevitably there was a good deal of crossover between some of the groupings: spicy vanillas (eg DSH Cimabue!), vanilla and incense combos, woody-patchouli-amber-vanillas and so on, but where possible I tried to use headings that captured the dominant aspect of any given scent. Seeing my collection physically organised in front of me - sadly, there are no "before" pictures - only ones of the chaotic scene afterwards by which time the categories had got thoroughly jumbled up! - brought home to me in particular how much I love "powdery roses". (S also liked three here: Brûlure de Rose itself of course - which isn't even powdery to be honest, but it wasn't worth starting a splinter category just for "gourmand roses" - plus Floris Snow Rose and Rose Kashmirie.) I am also a big fan of vanillas and woody orientals, flanked by one or two leather or spicy numbers. In the spring and summer I enjoy florals of all kinds from polite office scents to the occasional dirty diva, and am also well catered for on the citrus side of things.

Here is the complete list of (very forgiving!) categories:

CITRUS
ORANGE
FIG
GREEN
TEA
SPICY!
LEATHER
MUSK
ALDEHYDES
FRUITY FLORAL
BIG SKANKY FLORAL "DIVAS"
OTHER FLORAL ("FAIRLY BIG")
POWDERY ROSE
IRIS ("OFFICE SCENTS")
"OFFICE SCENTS" MISCELLANEOUS
AMBER
VANILLA
WOOD / INCENSE / PATCHOULI / "DARK" - I was clearly starting to give up at this point

Somewhere I jotted down the complete list of samples S took away from our session, but I can't put my hand on it for the moment. It was mostly spread across the vanilla (clean, not barnyard), aldehydes, woody/patch/incense, powdery rose and "fairly big" floral categories, with a general success rate of about 60-65% at a rough guess and only one or two out and out scrubbers amongst the scents I gave S to try. (For example, though I had high hopes of the tobacco note in Cartier L'Heure Fougueuse following the wild success that was Vanille Absolument, it proved to be unequivocably wrong on S's skin, and she likened it to the smell of "a tack room" crossed with "a specimen bottle". At that time we were both unaware that the Cartier actually contained a "horsetail" note!)

And then on Monday, following my return from London, S finally took custody of her new bottle of Brûlure de Rose, which she had asked me to buy for her.

The review of Brûlure de Rose that precipitated my own interest in this scent and subsequent purchase was this one by Marina on PST, and here is one by Olfactoria which I missed last summer when I was away on business. I don't really get any green "early morning" stage with this scent, though I know that it is supposed to evoke the evolution of the rose at different times of day. On me Brûlure de Rose is pretty dark, sweet and sultry from the off. The views on Basenotes are polarised on this one, and my dear friend lovethescents didn't care for it at all. It reminded her of a brand of lip salve, so it isn't everyone's cup of tea, though I love it as much as S.

So looking back, the Post-it note and bottle frenzy led to a satisfactory outcome all round: my friend found a new fragrance love, while I got a kiss from Pierre Guillaume when I showed him the bag as evidence of my purchase. Now that is what I call a good deal.

*For "countless" read zero... : - )

Photo of cake from Wikimedia Commons, photo of Brûlure de Rose from fragrantica.com, other photos my own

Talk By Pierre Guillaume At Les Senteurs: Learning The Specifics Of Parfumerie Générale - Part 2

Right, so where on earth do we go next after the incredible Coze licking demonstration? I could mention that there was lively debate amongst the audience as we discussed the correct English term for the type of sugar we detected in Sucre d'Ebène (the scent also featuring PG's favourite macrocyclic musk, if you recall): "Demerara", "muscovado" and just plain "brown" were three possible contenders.

Bestial scents

Or I could tell you that Pierre Guillaume referred to L'Ombre Fauve with its distinctive earthy notes of Amber 83, patchouli and musk as "liquid sex". He also described it as "very dirty" - quoting Francis Kurkdjian, and replicating the gesture more commonly seen on football terraces which FK used to describe his own creation, Cologne Pour Le Soir. And none of that is surprising really, given that the name of L'Ombre Fauve roughly translates as "bestial shadow".

So moving on swiftly on from raunch to another upcoming launch...

Corps & Âmes EDT Apaisante

There will only be one new Limited Edition scent released in the main PG line this year, a reworking of Corps & Âmes, called Corps & Âme EDT Apaisante, "apaisante" meaning "soothing" or "calming" in French. The original Corps & Âme reminds me very much of the civet cloud that is YSL Y, while the new LE - a chypre with notes of geranium, lemon verbena, jasmine sambac and a patchouli heart - had a slightly acerbic citrus / herbal opening, on card at least, and I wouldn't have said they were all that closely related. In fact I detected echoes of Guerlain Sous Le Vent (which PG said he would take as a compliment, when we were discussing our initial impressions). Then PG agreed with those who spotted a resemblance to Aromatics Elixir as the scent wore on. To give uplift to the chypre structure, the new version of Corps & Âmes will contain a linear musk called Serenolide, developed by Philip Kraft, German fragrance chemist with Givaudan.

PG's favourite scent from the Huitième Art range

"The new one!" (ie the "Polywood" blockbuster featured in Part 1).

Finding the balance between commercial success and creative freedom

PG talked about the fact that he has to strike a balance between following his muse in creative terms, producing scents that challenge and interest him personally, while ensuring that there are some more "commercial" perfumes in the mix (this is of course a relative term when applied to a niche brand). The latter can be relied upon to generate sales, including the funding of his more edgy creations such as Papyrus de Ciane, the scent that he is most proud of as a technical achievement.

Scents by other perfumers PG wishes he had created himself

- YSL M7

- Thierry Mugler Womanity (he admires its huge power of diffusion: "I think we will talk differently about it in 10 years' time")

- Lolita Lempicka au Masculin by Annick Mennardo ("she is the mistress of diffusion")

Thoughts on the fragrance market and why small doesn't equal niche

PG singled out a couple of mainstream scents which had particularly impressed him - JPG Kokorico and Terre d'Hermès - describing them as "a few pieces in an ocean of new launches". He finds the co-existence of mainstream and exclusive ranges within houses such as Tom Ford, Dior, Hermès, Chanel etc bewildering - "I am lost" - and assumes the public must be equally confused by these two-tier marketing strategies. PG also laments the fact that certain perfume brands are springing up which - on account of their small size - automatically position themselves as niche. PG doesn't feel this necessarily follows, and considers some of these ranges to be overpriced.

"That is not my version of niche. (By comparison) I am the discount of the niche!"

The PG distribution strategy and why small is beautiful

PG's distribution strategy is to limit the numbers of points of sale and grow the business slowly, as the use of distributors can lead to loss of control and dilution of the brand. This explains why, a year ago, I had been surprised to see the main PG line carried in a small independent perfumery in Holland, yet when I went back last autumn it had mysteriously vanished from the store.

How many tests does it take to develop a fragrance?

Not as many as you might think. PG cited the case of a perfume house which advertised the fact that some 500 tests/iterations had gone into the creation of one of its scents. PG puts this down to marketing spin, and gave 60 as a more typical number, while Intrigant Patchouli he got right first time!

"A good perfumer doesn't need that many tests."

Falling in love with fragrance and why "we are all reptiles on the Discovery Channel"

Actually, PG didn't actually quote this song lyric, or even the original version with "animals" in it, but he did say that the act of falling in love with a perfume is involuntary and more or less instantaneous. He explained how the process is governed by the hypothalamus in the brain and described it as "reptilian", leaning in towards the audience to emphasise his point, like a crocodile eyeing its prey. I have just googled "reptilian brain" and looks to me as though the limbic system may be more where the action is at, but I am not one to split hairs (or cut them in four, as the French say).

I interjected that we sometimes fall in love (with a perfume or a person, indeed) only to fall out of it again pretty smartly, as the scales - to stay with our reptilian theme - fall from our eyes, and we realise we made an expensive mistake...

Pierre Guillaume and Francis Kurkdjian - a whiff of bromance?

PG and Francis Kurkdjian are not exact contemporaries - PG is 35, FK 42 - and PG described their relationship as competitive but friendly. "We fight a little bit...and we go to the same place in Spain for our holidays."

It was in fact Francis Kurkdjian, who, on smelling Coze, PG's first creation, encouraged him to pursue a career in perfumery.

They also both attended the recent awards ceremony in Paris, where the order of “Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres” - an honorary title granted to those who have made outstanding contributions in the arts world - was bestowed upon five perfumers chosen from each of the main fragrance and flavour houses. (Kurkdjian had already received this award in 2009.) PG described it as an emotional occasion punctuated by episodes of horseplay and banter: Dominique Ropion took a photograph of the Minister of Culture, while Maurice Roucel amused the audience with his trademark spoonerisms.

The talk overran considerably - PG was so diligent about fielding questions that (as I later learned) he and the Les Senteurs team missed their dinner reservation. At the end of the night I saw him sitting quietly on a sofa at the back of the store and went over to say thank you and to show him the bottle of Brûlure de Rose I had bought on behalf of a friend whom I had just introduced to the scent. He stood up and kissed me on both cheeks in that gallant way the French do. The "bi-cheek bise" made my night, and it occurred to me that though I hadn't associated any particular memories with the main - supposedly "talkative" - PG fragrance line prior to the talk, I surely would now.

And my iPhone hasn't been in its cover since...

Oh, and today I realised that my phone is not the only link with the whole PG experience - he mentioned that Ambre Ceruléen was inspired by the so-called "cerulean speech" in The Devil Wears Prada, in which Miranda teases Andie about her ignorance of the precise colour of her old sweater:

"But what you don't know is that that sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise. It's not lapis. It's actually cerulean."

Well, as it happens, I own a (distressed PVC) replica of the messenger bag worn by Andie - a gift from a friend who works in PR. It isn't blue, sadly, but I think I have enough memories of the talk to be going on with...

Photo of bestiary, reptiles and the Palais Royal from Wikimedia Commons, photo of PG bottle from basenotes.net, photo of Anne Hathaway from fabsugar.com, other photos my own

Talk By Pierre Guillaume At Les Senteurs: Learning The Specifics Of Parfumerie Générale - Part 1

Pierre Guillaume and I have the same iPhone. No really, we do - we both have the white one - I mean, what are the chances of that? : - ) The other impressive thing about Pierre Guillaume's iPhone is that it doesn't have a cover! Yes, his phone goes "commando" and lives tucked in the inside pocket of his jacket. I find that remarkable - I wouldn't liken it exactly to jumping out of a plane without a parachute, which would suggest a reckless disregard for safety - rather, I think his coverless phone simply tells us that he takes great care of it, and I for one was impressed.

The talk at Les Senteurs' new store in Seymour Place was scheduled for 6.30pm last Thursday. I had arranged to meet Katie Puckrik earlier that afternoon, an unseasonably warm one that she had clearly brought over from LA with her, one-woman-catalyst for climate change that she is. I almost regretted wearing my "good coat", but figured it might get chilly later, and that I might need recourse to its sample-scoring powers at the Burberry Beauty counter in Harrods the following day (I never made it).

LISSON GROVE

I caught up with Katie in her former stomping ground in north London, where she lived for 16 years till the late 90s. We poked around some vintage clothes and antique shops and ambled through a street market, when our noses simultaneously detected the unmistakable scent of oud - burning oud, we reckoned. Try as we might, we couldn't locate the origin of this beguiling incense smell. The finger of suspicion was briefly pointed at the gaping mouth of a stuffed toy donkey and the golden cupola of a pink mosque-shaped clock, but neither of these items turned out to be the covert incense burner of my imaginings.

The next port of call was a large antiques market, where Katie's eye was drawn to vintage jewellery and lampshades, while I "fondled and replaced" some 30s gin glasses and cast longing looks at any artefact shaped like a pineapple (of which there were a surprising number - none of them portable or in my price range).

Before heading to the talk we had a sit down supper of fish and chips in a nearby diner, that had been considerably gentrified since Katie's last visit. The designer vinegar bottle had an Alessi look about it, the ketchup came in a white ramekin with a spoon, and the mushy peas had clearly never seen the inside of a can. Even Katie's cod had a jaunty flicky up tail to it, but it may just have been of athletic build.

LISSOM NOSE

At Les Senteurs, after drinks and general milling around ("circulation générale"?), we were ushered downstairs to a white basement area with seating for about 20-30. I had no idea there was a downstairs to Les Senteurs! Pierre Guillaume was already standing in position by a table on which was displayed the Huitième Art range, the opaque white ceramic bottles perfectly coordinating with the décor.

So how good looking is he in person, then?

Answer - very. However, his striking good looks are actually more approachable than I expected from the posed studio portraits you see of him on blogs. He looks like the most handsome boy in your class at school rather than Gillette Man or that supermodel in the boat in the D & G Light Blue ad.

And how charming is he on the charming-o-meter?

Comfortably off the scale, I would say. His strong French accent and occasional quaint turns of phrase or pronunciation (for example, "cooker" for "chef", "peer" for "pear", and "hurt" for "heart") only served to endear him further to his audience.

"Talkative" vs "stable & linear" scents

Pierre Guillaume (whose name - along with that of his company - I will henceforth shorten to PG except for specific punning references that may follow) started off by explaining the difference in conception behind the main PG range and the newer Huitième Art scents. He described the former as "talkative", because they tell a story, they evoke particular scent associations and memories in people's minds (with a picture, a face, a work of art etc); he drew an analogy with Proust's Madeleine episode in the novel "A La Recherche du Temps Perdu". In other words everyone's associations will be different.

By contrast, the Huitième Art range is more "stable" and "regular" - these are scents that can be enjoyed because they smell nice, basically. They are linear, but in a good way ie they do not have a shorter formulation just because their appeal is more straightforward. PG also likened the Huitième Art range to "classical plates of the menu" like Boeuf Bourgignon, as opposed to more avant-garde concoctions such as - he plucked a random example out of the air - "Fish & Licorice". Just as a good chef is judged by how well they can make these classic dishes, so PG invites scrutiny of his artistry in these less complicated compositions.

Capturing the "non-talkative" notes

But while the Huitième range may not be "talkative" in its conception ie linked to memory as such, it does have the special characteristic of exceptionally realistic notes: for example the pear note in Ciel d'Airain, the dewy blackcurrant note in Aube Pashmina, or the immortelle note in Fareb. (Scent strips were passed around to illustrate all the perfumes discussed.)

To take the case of Ciel d'Airain, its pear note was created by a combination of conventional aromachemicals and a very natural realistic extraction (created using phyto-perfumery technology) which casts a "natural shadow" over the chemicals. It was supplied by a company called Greentech, and rejoices in the jolly name of a "Fruitogreen".

(NB I couldn't help thinking that Pierre Guillaume's own name is pearilously close to "Poire Guillaume" or Williams Pear).

Whimsical titles

FAREB: we learnt that the name Fareb is in fact an acronym (in French at least): F for "fresh", A for "aromatic", R for "resinous", E for "spicy" and B for "woody". We all had a chuckle at this.

NAIVIRIS: "You are naive to think it is just about iris." For the iris used in this scent is in fact African red orris from the fruit of the kigelia africans tree: "it is an olfactory molecule from the skin of the fruit - like orris, but with spicy as a bonus". This offbeat iris note is combined with zebra wood, which has woody and animalic facets.

Whimsical images and chimeras

Moving on to the latest release, Myrrhiad, PG likened its heart accord to two lovers: a relatively new ingredient from Robertet - a complex "discoloured tea note absolute" - and myrrh. Together they are entwined on a bed of two vanillas, surrounded by a mist - or perhaps a canopy - of licorice. Interestingly, the licorice note is not actually in the composition, but is an olfactory impression or chimera that arises naturally during the scent's development. Another example PG gave us was the illusory note of "banana wood" in Felanilla, due to the fruity aspect of one of the saffron ingredients, Ethyl Safranate.

A "Polywood blockbuster": the new Huitième Art release

We were also given an advance preview - or presniff - of "Polywood", the code name for the upcoming addition to the Huitième Art line. It showcases no fewer than EIGHT different woody notes: four regular ones and four new ones. I asked PG if any perfumer had ever put more woody notes in a scent than this latest launch, and he said he couldn't say for sure, but thought he might be the first to use poplar wood absolute at least. The full cast list of this "Polywood blockbuster" is as follows:

cedar
vetiver
patchouli
sandalwood
poplar absolute
papyrus wood (aka nagamota oil)
incense wood (cedar wood oil + olibanum = "bois d'incens")
oakmoss absolute

Pierre Guillaume's favourite musk

Mangue Métisse, which includes notes of frangipani, tea and the white part of the bark of a mango tree, and which PG likened to an "exotic flower with exotic sugar inside", also contains a macrocyclic musk similar to the one used to great effect in Narciso Rodriguez for Her. Egyptian in origin, PG described it as "velvety smooth, linear and powerful", and declared it to be his favourite musk. (It also features in Sucre d'Ebène.) While we are on this subject, my favourite quote of the night, although I cannot remember the exact context (who needs context?) is: "I had not any more musks in my organ."

The incredible Coze licking demonstration

I was so stunned at the sight of PG spraying Coze on his wrist and licking it off again, that as with the musk quote, I have completely forgotten what that was all about. I jotted down his instructions: "Do it quickly, with a dry tongue", and the fact that it tasted a bit like wine (I think), but the original objective behind the demonstration - other than to raise the blood pressure of 110% of the audience at a conservative guess - escapes me. So if Bee or Katie or anyone else who attended the talk could explain the scientific principle behind this supremely sensual stunt, that would be great!

To be continued in Part 2...



Photos of a kigelia africana fruit tree and a chimera via Wikimedia Commons, photo of clock from simplyislam.com, photo of Alfie's market from anothermag.com, other photos my own