Last Tuesday, the French Fifi Award for best niche fragrance was given out to Corsica Furiosa by Parfum d’Empire. I was part of the jury, comprising 25 journalists, evaluators and bloggers, who went through three rounds of voting to select the winners in two categories, niche and “big brand” exclusive lines. The last round of votes on the short-listed products was done on anonymous blotters – but of course it wasn’t hard to identify Aedes de Venustas Oeillet Bengale, Serge Lutens L’Orpheline, Comme des Garçons + Pharrell Williams Girl and Parfum d’Empire Musc Tonkin and Corsica Furiosa…
Any one of the finalists would have deserved to win, but many of us were rooting for Parfum d’Empire, as a truly independent brand and one of the few headed by a perfumer, its fearless, physical, baroque style deserved to be saluted. When Marc-Antoine Corticchiato was called up to collect his Fifi, I just about let out a whoop (but it wasn’t that sort of gala – apart from the very vocal L’Oréal tables).
So, obviously, I’m kicking off this seasonal top 10 with…
Corsica Furiosa by Marc-Antoine Corticchiato
for Parfum d’Empire
In music, “furioso” means “to be played rapidly and with passion”. Based on lentiscus, a Mediterranean shrub whose olfactory range spans from ivy to earthy via hay, moss, pepper, liquorice and leather, Corsica Furiosa celebrates the rites of spring on the Island of Beauty with an exhilarating blast of green.
Succus by Shyamala Maisondieu
for Liquides Imaginaires
“Succus” is an obsolete medical term designating the expressed juice of a plant. Part of Liquides Imaginaires’ new trilogy “Les Eaux arborantes”, a tribute to trees, Succus smells like a hallucinogenic vegetal potion served by an Amazonia shaman. Sharp, metallic, sappy, peppery, smoky, this compelling weirdo’s effect is quasi-synesthetic – you’ll see iridescent butterflies, day-glo birds, psychedelic fruit and carnivorous (or carnivalesque?) flowers.
Ostara by Bertrand Duchaufour
With Ostara, Bertrand D. adds another deconstructivist blossom to his herbarium. Built around narcissus absolute, his daffodil sets off its heady, horsey-honeyed facets with dew-gorged green. A spritz of this is enough: Ostara is powerfully radiant – a sign of its strong identity and excellent balance – and has the half-life of plutonium on hair or textiles…
Cologne Indélébile by Dominique Ropion
for Frédéric Malle
The name is an oxymoron. And so, of course, is the olfactory effect: a cologne that tattoos itself on skin rather than evaporating within an hour. But the most fascinating balancing act of Ropion/Malle’s new opus is the way it constantly teeters on the brink of functional perfumery without ever toppling over into it, its clean neroli and white musks structure gloriously messed up by narcissus absolute.
Vacances by Henri Almeras
for Jean Patou
The scent was launched to celebrate an event Jean Patou’s chic clientele couldn’t have cared less about: in 1936, for the first time ever, French workers were given paid holidays. Which meant the countryside rather than the beach back then. So that Vacances, part of the latest trio of Jean Patou’s “Collection Héritage” reformulated by Thomas Fontaine, smells of a spring break rather than a summer vacation, with its big verdant burst of galbanum and vivid lilac-hyacinth accords…
Mimosa by Jean-Christophe Hérault
for the IFF Speed Smelling Coffret
Some brand has to nab this jewel. A tender, poetic interpretation of the late-winter flower, this very limited-edition scent is based on Hérault’s notes as a young perfumer discovering the hills of the Massif du Tanneron near Grasse when mimosa trees are in bloom.
L’Ile au Thé by Isabelle Doyen and Camille Goutal
for Annick Goutal
Though inspired by a visit to the Korean island of Jeju, “the island of tea” somehow summons images for the “Pastoral Symphony” sequence of Disney’s Fantasia -- the one where a family of winged horses gambol in a pastel sky and seascape… Like Ninfeo Mio, L’Ile au thé blends notes actually found in the setting: mandarin blossom, osmanthus, and, obviously, tea – a natural match for osmanthus which features a tea facet.
Ilha do Mel by Aliénor Massenet
Another island, off the coast of Brazil… Neither Mémo’s owner Clara Molloy nor the perfumer Aliénor Massenet set foot on it, but the idea of a “Honey Island” proved irresistibly inspiring. Honey is a note many perfumers are exploring right now – it works well with florals, is gourmand without smelling of candy, and provides animalic dimensions without being ripped off a furry critter’s bottom. Ilha do Mel derives its honeyed effects from broom and orange blossom absolute, drenching its core jasmine-gardénia accord with golden nectar.
L’Eau en Blanc by Annick Ménardo
for Lolita Lempicka
Launched in 2012 and re-issued this year as a bridal scent, L’Eau en Blanc shares its bottle with LL’s signature fragrance. But it sheds the liquorice to expose an olfactory arc spanning from raspberry to violet (the latter’s ionones being used to conjure the former), on to iris and heliotrope, an almondy note that stands in for the more anisic, caramelized liquorice. Somehow, to me this a descendant of Guerlain’s Après l’Ondée, minus the wistfulness…
Narciso by Aurélien Guichard
for Narciso Rodriguez
for Narciso Rodriguez
Alberto Morillas’ masterful (and discontinued) Essence strayed too far from For Her’s olfactory codes. Not so Narciso, which picks up the brand’s signature woody musk accord – swapping For Her’s patchouli for vetiver and adding a milky, stylized gardenia. A lovely, luminescent cosmetic aura – if angels have a toiletries range, that’s what it must smell like.
La Panthère eau de parfum légère
by Mathilde Laurent for Cartier
I was utterly disgusted when Black Opium (aka Starbucks coffee) beat out La Panthère at the French Fifis for Best Feminine Fragrance. Clearly, the industry professionals who voted acknowledged commercial success rather than olfactory merit. This new flanker adds a tiaré blossom note to La Panthère’s gardenia (the two flowers are botanically related) and lightens up a bit on the beast, but it’s still a curvaceous, purring animal…
For more seasonal round-ups, please visit:
P.S. For those who’ve been wondering why I’ve gone AWOL, well, there’s nothing the body resents like being knocked unconscious and cut open… Nothing serious, and I’m on the mend, but I’ve cut myself all the slack I could afford while still meeting my professional deadlines (because bodies also resent not eating).
The illustration is a picture I took of the Villa Livia frescoes at the Palazzo Massimo museum of Roman Antiquities.