Bottega Veneta EDP Review: Cashmere Mist Goes To Finishing School

Not long after "sudden onset perfume mania" struck in early 2008, I progressed from printing out sheaves of fragrance pyramids of individual scents from Osmoz to setting about acquiring samples to try. The very first of these was a twin pack of DKNY Delicious Night and Cashmere Mist. The steel wool and Ribena disaster that is the former nearly put me off my nascent hobby for ever, while the latter appealed to me primarily on account of the name. Back then, I wouldn't have been able to tell benzoin from a bento box or Benny Hill.

I wore the spray vial of Cashmere Mist on the first day of a long work trip, to meetings with shoe factories on the Dutch/German border. It was a grey, damp, mizzly kind of day that makes you feel cold to your bones, and the perfume acted as a cosy scarf. I shan't say cashmere, because it was a bit rougher than that - let's go with mohair for now, but that is really a bit too far along the scratchy spectrum.

Notes: bergamot, jasmine, lily of the valley, suede, sandalwood, vanilla, amber, musk and cashmere

And before long I discovered the swap scene, and thanks to lovethescents Cashmere Mist became my first full bottle of perfume (if you discount the seven year old bottle of EL Intuition, which had gone quietly rancid on my bedroom windowsill at some point between 2001 and 2008).

Fast forward three and a half years to the launch of Bottega Veneta EDP. I have now looked this house up and clocked that it is a luxury Italian brand of leather goods. I rather like the look of the ones with a basket weave effect. The name is a bit of a mouthful, mind. The word "Bottega" made me think of "bodega", which in turn makes me think of Spanish wine bars and that place in Northern California where they shot The Birds.

With mounting interest, I read Denyse of Grain de Musc's account of her visit to Paris to meet the perfumer, Michel Almairac, at the launch event - also attended by Katie Puckrik - and each subsequent review I have come across has served to fuel my anticipation further.

Katie sums up this scent in a tweet as: "a secret leather accord femmed up with jasmine". I realise that I am drawn to perfumes with a secret accord of any kind - it is becoming clear to me that I like a hint of mystery in a fragrance... It was Katie indeed who pointed out the secret leather accord in another recent love of mine, L'Agent by Agent Provocateur, and I am pleased to report that I have finally detected it! I'd say that Ormonde Jayne's Ta'if smells mysterious too, though I couldn't put my finger on why exactly. Secret date accord? Accord for a secret date, more like. : - )

Anyway, back to Bottega Veneta and its link to Cashmere Mist. Here is the leatherless note list:

Notes: "bergamot, pink pepper, jasmine, plum, patchouli, benzoin and oakmoss"

The overall vibe of Bottega Veneta is very soft and tender. It's quite rich and fruity initially - possibly the pepper and plum, or maybe even the patchouli? peeking through - but this fades fast. The benzoin gives it that vanillic, fuzzy aspect, but it is less fuzzy and more refined than in Cashmere Mist, which has a slightly synthetic feel if I am honest. Yes, this is Cashmere Mist that has gone to finishing school. The leather note in Bottega Veneta is suede-y rather than leathery, as Olfactoria also found, dubbing it "graceful suede". Cashmere Mist has suede too, but it is quite muted and I get more benzoin than leather of any kind.

Bottega Veneta is also reminiscent of Daim Blond, another fuzzy scent that was sadly raspy on me - in my review I described it as "suede-scented white noise". And then there is a peachy/apricoty note in Bottega Veneta which isn't in Cashmere Mist and which - dare I say it - makes me think of YSL Belle d'Opium. And that also ties back to Daim Blond, which is fuzzy, suede-y AND apricot-y, though not in a good way. And of course apricots have a slightly furry texture, and that is about the level of "nap" we are speaking of in Bottega Veneta.

Notes: "Leather, Iris, Apricot Kernel, Musk, Hawthorn, Jasmine, Cardamom, Heliotrope"

Crucially, there is no apricot or peach listed in Bottega Veneta, and I am struggling to spot the jasmine: it's plum, apricot, patchouli, suede and benzoin for me, but way smoother than those notes connote!

So anyway, between those three fragrances, I think I have covered off the other scents Bottega Veneta reminds me of...Okay, maybe also a teeny bit of Indult Isvaraya (jasmine, plum patchouli), but that is heavier and darker by comparison. Good winter choice, though, while Bottega Veneta fits this time of year perfectly.

In summary then, Bottega Veneta is a sophisticated Cashmere Mist with added fruit and a more pronounced suede note. So nothing like it then, I hear you cry, but it was an inspirational starting point, so that counts! I guess Bottega Veneta also deserves a more ethereal name, if DKNY's more mainstream offering gets one. Hmm, something like "Suede Mist", say. Yes, that is perfect.

The day I tried Bottega Veneta for the first time, I met up with a friend at pilates, who had stopped wearing perfume - distracted by the needs of her growing family - but is keen to experiment now. I surprised her with one of my carded samples (I bought a few, in lieu of a bottle), and she thanked me. "It's very soft and soothing", I said, "so I thought it might be a good place for you to start."

"Oh great!" she replied. "I've got a big day tomorrow, with loads of people coming to an event that I have organised. So I might just wear your perfume then, as I need to stay calm."

I inquired where this event was taking place, and it turned out to be IN A LEATHER MUSEUM...My friend could have just done with that nice statement bag and she'd have been all set.



As for me, given my well-documented penchant for all things quiet and understated, I feel as though I have "come home" with Bottega Veneta. It's early days of course, and I should factor in my Flittersniffer Flibbertygibbet persona, but Bottega Veneta may have all the credentials to be that alien construct of a signature scent, were I ever so self-denying as to assign myself such a thing. Yes, if any perfume could whip me into scent monogamy submission, this floral leather chypre might just be the one.


Photo of Bottega Veneta from the company's website, photo of Cashmere Mist from kissandmakeup.tv, photo of bag from purseblog.com, photo of gloves from sweetspot.ca, photo of gaiters from the leather museum's website.

The Ormonde Jayne Perfume Portrait Service: Pulling Out All The Stoppers To Find Your Perfect Scent

I had toyed with calling this post something like "A Sliding Scale of Scent Selection Strategies", and was going to compare all the different ways of choosing a perfume, from blind buys in T K Maxx - "It's cheap, so how bad can it be?" - to being advised by sales assistants intent on pushing the latest DKNY flanker in the largest unit size possible. But I have already written a post about Ormonde Jayne with a form of the verb "slide" in the title, and decided two slidey posts might be pushing it.

So anyway, my meeting with Linda Pilkington last Friday was not to be, owing to a "signal" lack of crew on my scheduled train, but I said I would drop into the new store near Sloane Square on the Saturday instead. It proved to be a bit of a challenge getting across town from my hotel in St Pancras, partly due to my own incompetence and partly to a few rug pulling stunts on the part of Transport for London.

For starters I took the wrong branch of the Northern Line - via Bank instead of Charing Cross - though I later discovered that this was because the Charing Cross line had been closed, and everyone looking for the Northern Line was automatically steered down the remaining branch. Once on a train, I quickly realised it was going well out of my way. I got off at Moorgate and was about to take the Circle Line eastbound, when I heard an announcement about engineering works at Tower Hill, so I jumped on a tube heading west instead, insofar as compass directions are meaningful in a loop scenario... Are you keeping up so far? : - ) : - )

This circuitous route eventually took me to Sloane Square. I stood in the rain outside the station and rummaged fruitlessly in my handbag for the store details. In their absence, I was reliant on the combined knowledge of several passers by (none of whom were local), a sales assistant with Internet access in Ortigia(!) and three separate members of staff in Peter Jones, including their Customer Services Manager, who walked me to a window of their arty cafeteria and pointed down at the street below. "Okay, so it's not that street there, but Pavilion Road is sort of up a bit and to the left." Having just about absorbed these aerial directions, I promptly got lost looking for the "florist exit" of the store, before emerging blinking into the street, none the wiser now that I was on the ground.

By now somewhat bedraggled from the drizzle, I dived into a Chanel boutique, where two assistants pored helpfully over my 20 year old street guide, as loose pages fluttered softly onto the glossy hardwood floor. At the heart of the problem was the fact that Pavilion Road was on the fold of the book, which was not helped by the tiny print and my failing close sight. I am fast getting to that desperate stage where I have to annexe a young person every time I want to read.

Now in narrating this sorry tale I am not saying that the new Ormonde Jayne store is particularly hard to find - granted, it is tucked away in a little alley, but it is still only a stone's throw from Sloane Square. However, my initial failure to bring the address, coupled with the curved balls served up by TFL, my decrepit A-Z and dodgy vision all conspired to make the journey more arduous than was necessary. I should probably have taken the Clear Pill, for which there were numerous advertisments in the underground. If I took it every day, I'd be "LIMITLESS" apparently, able to unlock my potential and "become the perfect version of myself". Clearly, a better map reading version of myself would be a good start.

Unfortunately, the Clear Pill seems to come with a lot of baggage in the way of side effects, to wit: "paralysis, psychosis, amnesia, extreme sexual appetite, brain damage, irreversible coma, homicidal blackouts and sudden death."

So in deference to Monica and Bona, the staff of the Ormonde Jayne store, who were lovely and welcoming when I did eventually make it, it is probably best that I wasn't taking this pill during my visit - I don't suppose they'd have thanked me if I had had a homicidal blackout on their premises, especially if I had selected one of them as my victim moments before the attack.

Oh dear me...that was a bit of a longwinded introduction, and I realise that I may have shed a few readers somewhere around Paddington on the anticlockwise section of the Circle Line, but for anyone still reading, MY PERFUME PORTRAIT EXPERIENCE STARTS HERE... The store itself is a triumph of elegant design, featuring the orange and black livery that is the unmistakable calling card of Ormonde Jayne. There was lots of gleaming black marble - or gleaming black something - on the display surfaces and the walls. The lighting was discreet and twinkly; the product reverentially displayed. The sense of awe and wonder I felt in this sleek temple to high end scent was on a par with the feelings evoked by a visit to an upscale jeweller's or a prestigious art gallery. I could also liken my response to a grown up version of my childhood excitement at visiting Santa's grotto in our local department store - also with gift (for girl aged 50-55), as it turned out...

I was invited to sit down at a big counter and offered a selection of Ormonde Jayne's own handmade chocolates and a cup of jasmine tea with a real jasmine flower in it. You were supposed to wait for the flower to open fully before drinking the tea in which it bobbed. It was a novel take on my customary infusion method of mashing the tea bag against the side of a mug with the back of a spoon, and though the delicately fragrant tea was very refreshing, I joked with the staff that I couldn't quite rise above the sensation of drinking a rockpool through the tentacles of a sea anemone.

Then Monica, the store manager, kicked off by explaining the idea behind the Perfume Portrait service, namely to invite clients to sniff a selection of raw materials to identify which ones they liked or disliked, thus narrowing the choice of perfumes from the Ormonde Jayne range which they would be invited to sample. Key preliminary questions focused on the occasion this scent was intended for, perfumes the client had worn in the past, and any other information they could provide about their tastes in fragrance.

So then we started testing the various individual fragrance oils, on the end of black lacquered stoppers impregnated with each scent. These were arranged in seven families: "Hesperidic", "Delicate Floral", "Intense Floral", "Balsamic", "Oriental", "Woody" and the intriguingly named "Atmospheric" category, but I preferred not to know what each oil was - or even what family it belonged to - as I proceeded to smell each in turn.

Now I don't wish this post to act as a "spoiler" for anyone who might be planning to try out the Perfume Portrait service themselves, so I will just give you a flavour of how my blind testing went. Predictably, I was pretty rubbish on the whole, though in fairness, at this level of concentration it can be difficult to recognise certain odours, even very familiar ones.

Out of 21 fragrance oils I correctly guessed just two on the first attempt: mandarin and vanilla! The vanilla extract was white and crystalline and so scrumptious-smelling that I would happily have sucked the stopper like a child's dummy (pacifier)! Several oils I got on the second attempt, like gardenia and tonka bean, and I was often in the right general ballpark: for pimento I said cloves, and for pepper I guessed spice or woods.

Bizarrely, I got freesia and iris root round the wrong way, which makes me realise that I am probably only familiar with the more austere scent of the iris flower. I also didn't recognise the champaca note at that concentration, which surprised me as I know how it smells in the OJ perfume of that name. And when I smelt hemlock (arguably OJ's signature note, being the first company to use it in perfumery) and also moss, to both of those I am afraid I just said "nasty!"

So that was all a lot of fun, and quite instructive: I emerged from the process with some clear likes and dislikes, but also some in-between notes, which I decided I might enjoy in small doses. It now fell to Monica, who had been logging my comments along the way, to tot up my stated preferences within each family of oils, cross match that information with the families into which each Ormonde Jayne fragrance is classified as belonging - also bearing in mind that some perfumes fall into multiple categories - and make recommendations from their range of 12 scents.

Before this experiment, I would have said I had pretty broad tastes, but if I could only have two styles of perfume in my wardrobe those would have to be citrus (for daytime) and probably woody oriental (for evening wear). Looking at my score card, I have come out as squarely in the Hesperidic camp, closely followed by Delicate Floral, Oriental, Woody and Atmospheric on an equal footing, all of which feels about right. My least favourite fragrance style came out as Intense Floral (true). (Ormonde Jayne don't do any ragingly civetty scents, or those would doubtless have come out bottom, as it were.) Some intensely floral scents I do actually like, but don't really feel are me. And then my response to resinous fragrances was a bit mixed, which is also true. I do love some incense scents, but they shouldn't be overtly resinous in the sense of "piney". The only thing that puzzled me about the way the oils were grouped was "frangipani", which is classed as a delicate floral, and which I think of as quite intense - though I do happen to like the note, as I do ylang-ylang - in moderation, anyway.

From her analysis Monica shortlisted five perfumes: Osmanthus, Frangipani, Orris Noir, Ta'if and Tiare. This was a pretty canny selection, because unlike most clients who will go through the Perfume Portrait process, I came to it already knowing my favourites from the range, namely Orris Noir, Ta'if and Tiare, and was curious to see if we would come back to these by starting from first principles and identifying my preferences amongst the base ingredients. Additionally, I own Osmanthus Interdite by Les Parfums d'Empire and Ajne Calypso, a frangipani and jasmine scent, so I do dabble in these other fruity/floral directions.

At this point, Monica offered me my choice of fragrance to take home, a generous gesture that caught me completely offguard! With spring round the corner I opted for Tiare - one of the releases from the past two years that has most impressed me. We also talked about Ta'if, the most strongly indicated fragrance from the Perfume Portrait exercise, and a big favourite of mine for winter. Apparently it is a popular choice amongst Middle Eastern clients, including as a men's fragrance.

So what conclusions would I draw about the Perfume Portrait service as a method of orientating clients towards the perfect scent? Couldn't they just sniff all twelve OJ perfumes rather than the 21 base oils, you may be wondering? Well, sure they could, but this is so much fun! Now I don't think the exercise is totally foolproof, given that some of the oils are a bit intense and may put people off at that level of concentration - whereas they might like them well enough in the more attenuated strength at which they would typically end up in a finished formulation. However, I definitely think that the service is broadly indicative, and that the chances are that the shortlist that comes out the pipe will include at least one fragrance the client will like a lot - it my case, it was all three of my favourites!

Beyond that, there were two other great aspects to the Perfume Portrait service in my view. The first was the educational value of smelling oils blind and guessing what they were. I believe that that process alone could tip some ordinary perfume consumers into becoming full blown perfumistas. And given the pleasure that we fumeheads derive from fragrance, the possibility of converting even a few souls through a practical sniffing exercise could only be A Good Thing.

And then there is the whole pampering aspect, for, quite frankly, the care taken by the staff to understand your taste in fragrance, together with the beautiful store environment (not forgetting the chocolates and novelty tea), is as relaxing and therapeutic as a spa treatment. So, Santa's grotto, a spa, it comes to much the same thing. This experience could not be further removed from the "spray and pray" method of scent selection that obtains in your average department store - the staff at Ormonde Jayne have a thorough knowledge of their product line and the fragrance market in general, and clearly care about matching you with the right scent, as opposed to foisting one upon you that they are supposed to promote.

And yet - complimentary bottle aside - I wouldn't have felt pressured to make a purchase at the end of the session, and the one friend I know who has also had her Portrait done said the same. So from the consumer's point of view, as retail experiences go, it doesn't get better that this. And one thing that is also worth mentioning is that I didn't feel at all uncomfortable either in this stylish store - despite my dishevelled appearance and casual ensemble. I was even wearing a pea coat from Asda(Wal*Mart!), and when one of the girls helped me on with it, I swear she didn't visibly flinch. : - ) I remember feeling more awkward in Space NK in Bath, which is a bigger and more mainstream chain. The sales assistant there clearly resented me using the testers.

To sum up, I had an interesting and most enjoyable time, and left the store in a far less frazzled state than I had arrived. If you are not familiar with the Ormonde Jayne range or think you know your tastes in scent but fancy having these hunches "subjectively verified" by sampling individual components, the Perfume Portrait is well worth a shot.

PS I must also apologise for getting Monica's and Bona's names mixed up at one point. Both names feature "on-a" after all, and the black uniforms fuelled my confusion. Now what was that freephone number for the Clear Pill...?

Ormonde Jayne's blog features the new store here.

And here is a link to Ormonde Jayne's website.

Photo of tube map from studioincite.com, photo of view from Peter Jones from panoramio.com, photo of Clear Pill ad from thoughtsinflight.typepad.com, photo of exterior of store and of Tiare from Ormonde Jayne, photo of spa from bannatynespa.com, other photos my own.

Ormonde Jayne - A Fragrance Capsule Wardrobe In A Slidey-Out Box

At the heart of my work in market research lies the concept of the "strike rate". This is basically the conversion rate of interviews you manage to set up from a given database of contacts. Sometimes the parameters are very straightforward: "Here is a list of 20 of the client's customers - recruit as many as you can." This is the case currently with my daytime job. By night, however, I am working on another project on the West Coast of the US (a shift pattern known as "time zone moonlighting"), and here the parameters are a lot more tricky.

For I am trying to achieve an "interlocking sample", which involves looking for a selection of people, each of whom must meet a kaleidoscope of different criteria which will add back to a larger overall segmentation. To take a totally different example, it is rather like looking for "bald, left handed, politically right wing speedboat owners in Oslo" AND "right handed, left of centre canoeists with a comb-over in Bergen" AND "ambidextrous, politically indifferent Harley Davidson owners with a full head of hair in Trondheim". You get my drift.

And all these variables have to total the overall requirement in the sample for bald people, people in Trondheim etc. Now my database is large - very large - and these highly specific respondents may well be out there, but the $64,000 question is whether I will find them in time, because the details on the database are sketchy at best, and there is a cut off point when you are supposed to have your ducks in a row and go out and interview these people, though you will invariably be knackered and cross-eyed when the time comes.

This morning, as I was still fretting over the difficulties of the US sample, I sprayed on Ormonde Jayne Orris Noir for the third day running. It is soft and comforting, and I haven't much time to agonise over my perfume choice at the moment. Then I remembered that of all the perfume houses I know, Ormonde Jayne is the one with the highest "strike rate" in the sense of my liking almost all the scents in its range.

And I hasten to add that the reason I say so has nothing to do with the fact that their PR lady recently sent me a Discovery Set - or only in the sense that as a result I have been able to test the last three scents in the line that I had not got around to sampling before, namely Orris Noir, Zizan and Isfarkand. By contrast, Jean Paul Gaultier could send me a pantechnicon crammed to the gunwhales with every scent they make, tossing in a crate of body lotion and a metallic leatherette tote bag for good measure, but it would not endear the house to me any more. If anything, such a delivery would be likely to inspire a post along the lines of: "If you could only wear perfumes belonging to one brand, is there a house which could put you off scent forever?" With arguably a slightly snappier title.

But going back to Ormonde Jayne, my strike rate with their scents is not the only remarkable thing, but also the fact that they have the potential to form a "capsule wardrobe" of fragrances, ie a set of scents to cover all bases, whether in terms of notes, family, mood or occasion. Now it would be an easy enough task to put together such a thing from one's entire collection of scents - or if not easy exactly, it could be done with a bit of time and head scratching - it is the sort of thought process we naturally go through when people ask: "What would your top 10 or 20 perfumes be?"

But from a single house, and one with such a small range as this it is impressive. For sure, I could probably pick myself out a great capsule wardrobe from either Chanel or Guerlain, but there is more to go at with either of them. And compared to Ormonde Jayne, my strike rates with Chanel or Guerlain are much lower - it's a very rough guess, but maybe 30-40% for those two vs an 80% hit rate with Ormonde Jayne. So OJ scores highly on BOTH strike rate (as in "my liking the scents at all") AND on capsule wardrobe potential. Why, that is its own little interlocking sample right there!

To take just the nine women's scents, plus Isfarkand, which I think could easily be positioned as unisex, here is my own stab at assembling the capsule.

OSMANTHUS (fruity floral with herbal notes)

Casual everyday wear - cropped trousers and a top with a bit of interesting detail (ribbons, wacky buttons)

CHAMPACA (light floral with tea and basmati rice notes)

Serene and zen-like scent suited to gym or pilates/yoga wear ie stretchy, Lycra-enriched cotton bell bottoms and ballet wrap top and pumps.

TIARE (sparkling, citrussy chypre)

Crisp business attire or smart casual (pencil skirt, tailored blouse). There is a sort of review here.

SAMPAQUITA (light floral with exotic flowers)

Feminine, girly - floral tea dress for summer, or a flippy Boden skirt.

FRANGIPANI (heady floral with exotic flowers)

Ultra feminine summer holiday outfit with more va-va-voom and a come-hither look, eg sarong and bikini, halter neck maxi dress and jewelled sandals. Would make a good bridal scent contender.

ORRIS NOIR (dark woody oriental with iris)

Winter casual clothes - cashmere sweater, wool trousers or skirt, thick ribbed tights. Shades of slate, heather and periwinkle. Would go well with most of the Brora and Toast catalogue. The best choice for funerals, notwithstanding the comment on black outfits below - Ormonde Woman is a little too spiky for venues encouraging public displays of emotion.

ORMONDE WOMAN (dark woody oriental with black hemlock!)

"Little black dress" or other black outfit of any kind, as long as it has a bit of edge - asymmetry, unusual fastenings, scary funnel neck, apertures where you least expect them etc. A "go-to" scent for female investment bankers wearing wide gauge black pin stripe suits.

TOLU (resinous woody oriental - rich and sumptuous)

Very formal winter party wear - ie cocktail dress or full length gown in a fabric of velvet or brocade, preferably in shades of emerald green or burnt orange. May be accessorised with fur, depending on your stance on such things.

ISFARKAND - crossover with Champaca as a quiet meditative scent suitable for gentle forms of exercise and with Tiare as a discreet business scent. Also works well with a "boyfriend cardigan" and Ugg boots. Maybe also a coatigan, provided it is not too shaggy and hippyish.

TA'IF (dusty rose oriental with saffron and "EAT ME" dates)

"Wild card" scent in the range - combines the sombre, buttoned up snuggliness of Orris Noir with the rampant sensuality of Frangipani. "Covert pulling gear" is the closest outfit description I can come up with, which could range from dark skinny jeans and boots to a short vintage dress and a leather jacket. Touches of lace would not go amiss. Or red, but definitely not for the leather jacket. Escaping bra straps (ideally Aubade or Chantelle) in contrasting colours are permitted. May also be worn ironically with any of the above ensembles.

So there you have it - feel free to tweak and rearrange the outfits, the way I used to enjoy doing on those cut out paper dolls on the back page of Bunty... Meanwhile, I must dive back into the database of contacts and see if I can winkle out some no-handed Green Party keep fit enthusiasts in Kristiansand. Or their Stateside equivalent, obviously. And if my posts become sparse / "spotty" in the near future, you will know I have disappeared down the rabbit hole of my 16,000 entry Excel spreadsheet.




Link to Ormonde Jayne site.

Photo of Ormonde Jayne discovery set and perfumes from the company website, photo of a human jigsaw from gamerevolution.com, photo of a puzzle from kids-strategy-games.com, photo of a capsule wardrobe from business-bombshell.com, photo of Bunty comic from dgthekneelo.com, photo of database from sibis.com.

Penhaligon's Elixir - Pulpit or Pulling Scent?

The day I was in Zürich on my solo sniffathon, specifically when I was in a branch of Starbucks above a bookshop, peering at the price list to see what exorbitant sums they wanted for a cup of Tazo tea (with milk!), my mobile rang. It was a Swedish friend of mine, who was spending a few days in London and felt an urge to call me from a branch of Penhaligon's to tell me she had just bought a bottle of Elixir.

Well, my first reaction was puzzlement, as I thought I knew the whole line, but Elixir was a new one on me. My friend described the notes to me over the phone, and I have since found the whole list on NSTperfume:

"eucalyptus steam, cardamom, orange blossom, cedar, Turkish rose, jasmine, cinnamon, mace, rosewood, benzoin, tonka bean, vanilla, incense, red sandalwood and guaicum wood."

It sounded like a woody oriental, and is in fact a masculine, which may explain why it wasn't on my radar. The perfumer is Olivia Giacobetti, she of the enviable cheek bones and creator of minimalist ethereal beauties like FM En Passant, Diptyque Philosykos and L'Artisan The pour un Ete. That said, she is also the nose behind Idole Lubin, which is a scent with boozy, spicy heft.

The SA apparently positioned Elixir to my friend as a "pulling scent", and I was very excited about this, as I already consider several woody-incensey orientals to have that important property (important in an altogether theoretical way in my case, you understand): Ormonde Jayne Ta'if, Kenzo Flower Oriental and Tauer's L'Air du Désert Marocain to name three.

So I rang the Penhaligon's mail order line and they kindly sent out a sample of Elixir, plus one each of their new Orange Blossom EDT and Eau de Cologne (which deserve their own review).

On Saturday, to motivate me to double dig the flower beds and de-dandelion the drive, I applied Elixir for the first time. In the opening I got a dusty, spicy note that reminded me very much of SL Femininité du Bois and a little of DSH Nourouz (the scent formerly known as Tamarind Paprika). This quickly morphed into straight up church incense, but a very soft version of same - like DKNY Black Cashmere but less piquant, or like Etro Messe de Minuit, but mercifully devoid of its foetid flagstone note. A bit like Heeley Cardinal even, but without the Lemon Cif riff. And the whole tone of Elixir is even quieter, even more zen-like and meditative than any of those mentioned above.

Today I tried Elixir again. Now it may well be that the perfume was understandably apprehensive about my forthcoming review, for it decided to show me a few more facets this time. Today I get the incense still as the dominant note, but it is partnered with more woody notes and the rose. I would be lying if I said I got any jasmine or orange, mind.

On balance, it is still a little too incense-y, but it is very beautiful in a bone dry, austere, Simeon Stylites kind of a way. Could I pull someone wearing this? Hmm, if I was on one of those retreats where burnt-out business people go to detox, paint, learn reiki, gamelan drums and generally how to be their Best Possible Self, then I would say most certainly.
In Stafford's local nightspots, frequented by gaggles of 20-something girls with exposed midriffs and vertiginous heels, I am not sure it would quite cut the hair gel. Beyonce Heat or Britney's Midnight Fantasy might be nearer the mark.

Me, I will happily continue to wear Elixir whenever I want to escape the hurly burly of the working week. It is a fragrant way to achieve inner calm without having to focus on my core breathing or contort myself into a Downward Facing Dog.