In today's episode of my ongoing
Jean-Claude Elléna love
fest (see Hermessences 1, Hermessences 2, and The Alchemy of Scent),
I consider two of the Hermessence perfumes which did not go over that
well with me the first time I tried them. Since then, I have
discovered the real reason why the house samples of this line contain
a generous 4ml. To know the Hermessences is to love them and, as is
the case with any successful relationship, that takes some time—and
milliliters.
The beautiful, sleek
vials in which the Hermessence samples arrive are a pleasure to
behold, but the truth is that the liquids inside play out much more
beautifully when sprayed than when dabbed. Fortunately, a while back
I ordered a supply of atomizers and have been pouring my Hermessence
samples into those vessels so that I can get a full sense of the
complexity of these creations. “Hand decanting,” as they say in
the gray market trade, is easier said than done in this case because
Hermès topped its thin, lengthy, test-tube-like vials with
childproof openings so that consumers do not accidentally spill 4mls
all over themselves. They really thought of everything, didn't they?
Well, not quite.
Like how about selling sample sets? These ones I found inordinately
difficult to come by because my initial email request must have made
me sound like an ebay hawk or reasonable facsimile. I believe that I
listed the Hermès perfumes beloved to and owned by me, and expressed
an interest in trying the Hermessence line. Everything I said was
true, but I must have tried too hard. Or perhaps my request just fell
through the cracks?
All I know for sure
is that it took me more than a year to collect all ten of the
Hermessence vials, which I offered to buy from the beginning, but
Hermès does not sell its samples. Instead, they give them away,
after which some of them end up at certain unmentionable websites
going for $25 each. Sad, if you ask me. Hermès could do all of us a
big favor and sell comprehensive sample sets to interested consumers,
thereby putting an end once and for all to the shameless unlicensed
re-selling of their lovely perfumes. Just an idea.
HERMESSENCE
BRIN DE
REGLISSE (2007)
My initial encounter with
Brin de Réglisse left me seriously wondering whether I really wanted
to smell like Panda Black Licorice with Herbs. It's a delightful
product, no doubt one of the national export treasures of Finland,
and I am a major consumer of all-natural, black-as-night licorice. So
what's not to like?
It's true that I do not
always like lavender notes in perfumes, so one potential problem with
this creation for me was not the licorice but the lavender. What I
found, however, was that the overall effect of the scent veered too close
to the “perfume” produced through filling my mouth with Panda
all-natural Black Licorice with Herbs and chewing, savoring the black
juice as it is produced.
I find in general that
smelling identical to a food item which I love to consume is not
usually a recipe for perfume success in my book. I'm certainly not
one to say that every perfume which yields a facsimile of a scent
in my olfactory memory bank is necessarily a masterpiece. Some scents
really belong where they are, in situ, right there where they
are produced in nature. The scent of Panda Black licorice dissolving
in my mouth is, I concluded, one of them.
However, I have found this
time around that by spritzing rather than dabbing Brin de Réglisse,
many formerly hidden layers begin to peel off one another, making me
recognize that this is not a Panda licorice facsimile scent after
all. There is a gentle woodiness in this composition, and the
lavender turns out to help, not to hurt the potent black licorice
juice. I am not a complete convert yet, but after spritzing my way
through a 15ml purse spray—my next step—I may be. Stay tuned...
Perfumer:
Jean-Claude Elléna
Notes:
lavender, floral notes, orange blossom, hay, licorice (from
Parfumo.net)
HERMESSENCE
VETIVER TONKA
(2004)
Vétiver Tonka was bound
to be a tough sell from the beginning, because I had never before
encountered a sweet vetiver perfume. There was something discordant
about the scent, as though someone added too much salt to a hazelnut
cake. I figured that it just wasn't meant to be and forgot about this
Hermessence for a while.
When I decided to re-test
the Hermessence line using spray atomizers, my biggest surprise of
all was the marked improvement in the quality—according to my
nose—of Vétiver Tonka. For one thing, it no longer seemed all that
sweet. In fact, it hardly seems sweet at all anymore. For another
thing, as in the case of Brin de Réglisse, many layers of complexity
emerge through allowing this perfume to be infused with air
molecules, thus separating what formerly seemed to me to be a
monolithic layer of weirdly sweet vetiver.
Now, to my delight, I find that this
composition has a cigarette ash facet similar to the one I recently
encountered in Etat Libre d'Orange Jasmin et Cigarette—which is
otherwise totally different from Vétiver Tonka, and not in the least
bit sweet—but there definitely is a tobacco connection, which it
shares also with Caron Le Troisième
Homme, another splendidly tobaccoish unisex scent.
How did I miss this
before? I guess that I was fixated on the sweet vetiver and the salty
hazelnut cake. I've learned my lesson now once and for all, it seems:
if you want to know how a perfume which is sold in a spray bottle smells, you'd
better spray it on!
Perfumer: Jean-Claude
Elléna
Notes: hazelnut,
lily of the valley, praline, sandalwood, tobacco, tonka bean, vetiver
(from Parfumo.net)
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