Showing posts with label milky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label milky. Show all posts

Tuesday, 18 October 2016

Dreaming spires and spirals of smoke: Ruth Mastenbroek Oxford review

Source: Wikimedia Commons (by Tejvan Pettinger)
At the Smelly Cakey Perfume Meet Up in London the other weekend, we were lucky enough to have perfumer Ruth Mastenbroek in our party, and the day kicked off with an interesting talk she gave in Fenwick about her creative process, materials, and the three perfumes she has released to date, plus a fourth one that is currently in development.

As I mentioned in that post, Oxford is the scent inspired by her reportedly hedonistic university days, when she smoked Gitanes, and generally lived life in the fast lane rather than the library. I do think that perfumes named after places - Oxford, Paris, New York, Moscow etc - though rather Ronseal-like in their way, have an advantage over more obscure and nebulously evocative names such as Skarb, Pohadka, Blamage and Blask. Even if you haven't been to the place in question - and let's face it, who has been to Timbuktu or on an Escale à Pondichéry? - you can often conjure up the scene quite well in your mind. And when it comes to somewhere as squarely on the tourist trail as Oxford, the chances are that many of us will have been there - to visit, if not necessarily to study.




I will come back to my own recollections of Oxford in a bit. As you will see, these are a very mixed bag indeed, but I shall get straight to the perfume itself, which is most distinctive, although facets also remind me of a handful of other scents.

On Ruth Mastenbroek's website there is a brief synopsis of Oxford the perfume's persona:

"Daring, rough and chic...Oxford captures that moment in life that you discover you can make your own choices, your own mistakes.

An explosion of fresh, green, basil and peppery notes bursts from a herbal heart of clary sage with sensuous jasmine; vanilla, amberwood, and oudh bring a cashmere texture to the base."

Before going any further, will you check out that Oxford comma after 'amberwood'! Well played. ;)



Source: Ruth Mastenbroek

In my last post I said I thought Oxford reminded me of Penhaligon's Blenheim Bouquet, on account of the crisp, herbal opening, not that I have smelt the Penhaligon's scent in ages. I didn't really observe Oxford last time beyond the top notes, but having worn it several times now I can confirm that the opening reminds me more of one of the Eau de Sisleys - maybe No 2? - crossed with a muted version of Puredistance Antonia. Not so sappily galbanum-forward, more a diffuse herbal bouquet. The comparison with Antonia persists into the beautifully creamy drydown, because of the combination of sundry greenery, jasmine, vanilla and amber. Okay, so there is no amber listed in the notes of Antonia, but I detect an amberlike warmth in the base all the same. That is my favourite part of the development of Oxford (or should that be the Oxford Movement?), and the soft, pearlescent, pudding-y quality of the perfume in its later stages also conjures up Cloon Keen Atelier's Castana and a hint of Fils de Dieu (du Riz et des Agrumes) by Etat Libre d'Orange. So lovers of rice pudding-cum-junket scents are in for a treat here. A junket, even!

I can't say I smell anything remotely suggestive of cigarettes, louche behaviour or late submission of assignments - it is more redolent of the refined English rose that Ruth embodies today - hmm, she was wearing what I believe are known in some circles as 'cigarette pants', though.

But enough of the perfume, lovely as it is. What do I associate with Oxford...?


Source: Wikimedia Commons (by SirMetal)

Well, not my university days, for starters. I spent those in the mock Tudor cloisters of Queen's Belfast, huddled in a duffel coat over a bar heater, my bed just feet from a two ring Baby Belling bearing the telltale tomato-y traces of overexuberant tinned ravioli.

But I did have girlfriends who went to Oxford, who snuck me into their room in halls at St Anne's College, which I had to vacate in the morning before I was discovered by a 'scout' (the university word for a housekeeper / chamber maid).  We dined on beef and Guinness pie at Brown's, the epitome of fine dining in 1978, and made daytime pilgrimages to Blackwell's and the Bodleian.

By the early 1980s, I was living in High Wycombe, and thought nothing of jumping on a bus and travelling the 23 miles to Matthew Arnold's city of dreaming spires. High Wycombe at that time was dominated by the chocolate factory of Stewart & Arnold, and was also home to the floppy haired New Wave musician Howard Jones. But I was already a fan of The Monochrome Set by then and spent my 24th birthday at a gig in the grounds of Exeter College, standing on my own nursing a bottle of Heineken, and trying not to look like Jilly No Mates.




During the winter of 1983 I dated a postgraduate music student at Magdalen College I shall call M, whom I met on holiday that summer (the ill-fated and entirely inadvertent one spent in a nudist camp). I did not go out with him till well after we were back, I should add, by which time he had put his clothes back on again.  M was very wrapped up in his work, so much so that an enjoyable weekend in his student digs up the Cowley Road was unexpectedly followed by a six week hiatus in communications. Eventually I summoned up the courage to write to him, asking if the radio silence was because of something I had said, only to learn that he had been so engrossed in the absorbing task of transcribing medieval lute music that it had quite slipped his mind that he had a girlfriend! So that was the end of that.


Source: Wikipedia (by Henry Flowers)


When I moved to Swindon in 1984 to take up my first job, there were other visits to Oxford - mostly with colleagues to characterful pubs by the river such as The Perch Inn, where we made the most of the long summer evenings.

Later in the 80s, the Headington Shark appeared, a draw to rival any of the architectural gems of the city proper. Although living in Stafford by now, Oxford periodically exerted its gravitational pull. My mother died in the Churchill Hospital there a decade later, and sadly I didn't make it in time to be with her at the end.

And then in 2013, The Monochrome Set played in Oxford again, 30 years on from that Exeter College gig on my birthday. Which shows how the band and its music have cast a long shadow, and completes the circle of real and imaginary cigarette smoke.

So yes, perfumes named after place names embody the creator's own story, but they are also an open invitation to the wearer to wreathe them in their own memories, and give them a bespoke spin...





What are your associations with Oxford?  (The perfume or the place.) Do share in the comments!

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Lalique Flora Bella - The Sequel: Our Man From Havana & My Dreamt Up Dream Sequence

Since writing my last post, I have received a surprise email from Alain, "Our Man from Havana" in Sahling best of beauty, Berlin. Right off the bat I should set the record straight and tell you that he is not in fact from Havana, but from Santa Clara, but that wouldn't have made nearly such good copy, so I am glad I didn't know as much at the time I wrote my Berlin Sniffathon post.

Anyway, Alain has now caught up with that post and the Flora Bella review. He agrees with my assessment of the scent and adds:

"It's a very unique 'floral', completely strange but still in some way very simple. Heavy, cool, salty, milky, capable of always touching my heart and soul and opening my eyes to my exotic and tropical dream-scenario. For me it is definitely one of Bertrand's best fragances ever."

I am also pleased to report that Alain was fine about being featured in this way - indeed I have a standing invitation to drop in any time I am passing, so that is all good!

He did, however, point out that either he misexplained the dream sequence which he associates with this scent, OR I misheard or misunderstood it, a much more likely explanation if you ask me. Yes, it was late in the day by this point and my German just wanted to knock off and go back to the hotel and put its blistered feet up. Moreover, I have become so accustomed to using a dictaphone in my interviews that when I have to listen and take notes without that safety net, I am liable to end up with a scrappy and muddled version of events.

So here is the dream evoked by the scent Flora Bella, straight from the horse's mouth. And look - we could have spoken English all the time! : - )

Oh, and as you will see, I assigned the raven hair and violet eye colour of the Flora Bella character to the surfer dude, and managed to lose her altogether! Also, I did struggle to find a photo to illustrate Flora Bella. It was jolly hard to find any picture that wasn't Elizabeth Taylor, to be quite frank, who actually brought out a perfume called Violet Eyes, as I have now learnt! Yes, you may need to morph the two women's faces into one mental image for optimum verisimilitude.

"A tropical island paradise. No big hotels, no luxury resorts. A small village where the tourist of the west world are coming to practice diverse aquatic sports, diving, fishing and of course surfing. A young surfer man (maybe from Germany or the Scandinavian countries) with blond hair and ice-blue eyes falls in love with a beautiful young woman. She has long wavy black hair and deep violet eyes. Her skin has been tenderly touched by the sun and her juicy lips always reveal the most beautiful smile. She's very warm and sensual but at the same time so feminine, so sweet, so delicate and fragile. They see each other and they both fall in love immediately. They spend a beautiful night together at the beach, in which she gives him all her heart and only the knowledge that her name is Flora Bella.

The next day he searches for her. He asks other people in the village. Nobody knows her. They never heard of her! He desperately searches for her, completely sad and devastated without any results. Was it real or was it a dream? The day he had to return to his home-country, he stood in front of the sea with his feet deep buried in the sand there where the waves die. It was morning. An old lady is passing by with a bouquet of frangipani flowers. He asked the old lady. She looked at him and smiled back very politely. Then in the same kindly and lovely way that a grandmother looks at her grandson she answered:

'My dear child, of course I know her. She's everywhere. Can you feel it? Smell it...'

She took a deep breath and then let it out in a very pleasant way like she had smelled the most beautiful perfume ever. A tear ran down his cheek and the morning breeze took away a frangipani flower from the old lady's bouquet making it disappear in the blue space between sea and sky. Maybe it was a dream, maybe it was really real. But the truth is she will always be there: in the flowers of the island, in the foaming waves, in the salty sea breeze, in the tropical rays of the sun, in his heart... Flora Bella."

So that is rather a lovely story for any romantics out there, and, as you can appreciate, it would have been rather a lot to scribble down on the back of a fragrance blotter and a folded up bit of google map...

And the humour of my mix up was not lost on Alain:

"Oh! And Vanessa, since I read your reviews now I have two dreams of Flora Bella. The other one involves the raven-haired surfer boy with violet eyes... and moonlight! It's beautiful and it's real! Thank you for that too."

Meanwhile, such was the hypnotic effect of Flora Bella on me, that I thought it worth getting some feedback from Mr Bonkers in this instance (I am quite selective these days, as he does reject 99% of what I ask him to sniff). This was his reaction:

"Baby powder."

Pause...

"Yes, milk and babies."

Pause...

"Why, that is almost an endorsement!"

A perfume Mr Bonkers almost endorses? Surely that is yet another reason - if one were needed - to blind buy this with confidence!


Photo of island from cdislands.com, photo of Santa Clara from blingcheese.com, photo of violet eyed girl No 1 and of frangipani from flickr, photo of violet eyed girl No 2 from twilightmoviefranchiseupdates.blogspot.com