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Scenting the Wives of Henry VIII: Anne of Cleves

England, 1540

 In the long gallery of Hever Castle, a young woman, fair, with a pale complexion and serious eyes, walks, enjoying the late September sun. She glances down at a letter, with heavy seals and important language.

This is Anne of Cleves, the young princess from Germany, born in Düsseldorf, raised in Solingen, daughter of the moderate and serious Duke John of Cleves. Contrary to the widely distributed reports from her previously-disgruntled husband and now solicitous "brother", Henry VIII, she is comely - well built, with a smooth complexion, gentle and kind eyes, a mouth neither tight-lipped to the merriment-loving English nor too sensual for the critical eyes of its clergy. She has discarded the tight bandings of her German clothes, that made her so distasteful to English eyes in the beginning of her sojourn here. She is a graceful, sophisticated, adult woman who above all knows the meaning of discretion. Wearing an English-cut gown of ivory damask, with discreet patterns of seeds pearls woven into her bodice and hood, she looks up from the letter, and stares out of the window. Swans are gliding in the moat - Anne of Cleves specifically orders the moat waters to be kept fresh for them, as she loves to see them near and not in the further lakes or rivers where her window cannot overlook them. Swans - an emblem that the Duchess of Cleves has taken for herself, to reflect her descent from the swan-knight Lohengrin, the animals whose grace and steadiness she determines to personify. She smiles ironically - these animals are also known to mate for life.

This was not her destiny. The English king, Henry VIII, who took a fancy to her portrait and raised her up from the obscurity of the minor German court that was her home, and sent for her to become Queen of his court - that fast-paced, tense, glamorous, and rich court, of a country that had defied the Pope and Catholic Europe, and sent three Queens to their graves - this king had decided, as soon as she had come, that she was unsuitable, and only six short months had passed with Anne of Cleves as Queen of England.

She shivers. The weeks leading up to the annulment of her marriage had been terrifying - her friends and supporters had gone to the Tower for their crime of being aligned with her, the despised wife. The king's cherished and trusted servant, Thomas Cromwell, had been executed crying for mercy, for bringing her to England. The pangs of conscience and pain she feels are mitigated by remembering how very many others that same trusted servant had brought to the block; and any feelings of bitterness or regret that she has been pushed aside, dissolve when she tastes the relief of her escape. For king Henry VIII is merciful to those who do not oppose his will, and Anne of Cleves, a newly-come stranger, relied upon her fine sensitivity and intuition and did what, indeed, so many English people failed to do - bowed her head and accepted what he willed. It had cost her nights of pain and tears, that her husband was not to be her own knight after all, and that she had failed in this duty - but to live to become his "beloved sister" and do whatever good she could in that way, became the consolation.

She is not ignorant that the king's fancy for the young Katherine Howard was another piece of this puzzle. That a young girl who had served her should take her place had at first revolted her traditional sensibilities - but as has been stated, Anne of Cleves is a perceptive young woman and does not rail against what cannot be helped. It is fortune's wheel, she thinks, with a rueful smile. Indeed, the only true bitterness is that the king has spread far and wide that her unattractiveness was a part of how he could not bear to truly make her his wife. But, she vows, with her behavior and new sense of sophistication and freedom, she will repudiate those statements silently. She has already gone very far in this, for her elegant poise, newfound sense of dress, and remodeled behaviors (more merry, for the merry English), has already improved the opinion of nearly the whole court. She gazes out the window, to the rolling countryside that is still lush and green with the warmth of early autumn. June is the month of roses in England, and this lovely castle - where another Anne had read letters from the same king, she thinks while shivering again - was not yet in her possession then. Yet, here and there, a remaining red one blooms, in the beautiful gardens. She rises from her seat near the window, contemplating her most recent formal letter from the king - praising her for her obedience to his will and judgment and his trust that she will remain in that state. The Duchess of Cleves has no intention of doing anything else. She has become a beloved sister where once she was Queen, but she has determined she will adorn his court, not attempt to tear it asunder with factionalism. The king's children all desperately need a friend, and that will be her. The new queen Katherine Howard will need one too, a true one, not the frolicsome playmates from her past or dour old women who look askance at her. As Anne of Cleves walks down and leaves the castle, she makes her way to Hever's famous rose garden in search of the late bloomers, which she will gather and place as posies in her bedchamber. They will be reminders of her status as a new rose of the Tudor court, but one that will only adorn with sweetness.   

Anne of Cleves - Serge Lutens La Fille de Berlin

#anneofcleves #sixwivesofhenryviii #hevercastle #swans #sergelutens #lafilledeberlin #roseperfumes

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Scenting the Wives of Henry VIII: Jane Seymour

England, 1536

In the gorgeous red brick palace of Hampton Court, the magnificent show palace with the splendid vaulted hall and luxurious apartments within the chime of the Great Clock, the sun is slowly fading from the room and a cool breeze comes from the nearby Thames. Jane Seymour, Queen of England, lingers by the window seat for a moment, enjoying the cool air intermixing with the warmth of the sun for the day.

Though her complexion is so pale many courtiers cannot believe it, the Queen is fond of the enchanting gardens of Hampton Court, and of the sun on her face. Her fair hair, drawn back into the fine pearl-embroidered gable hood she helped to re-popularize, and pale gray eyes, emphasize the restrained lines of her silhouette and profile. Indeed, glancing downward with a warm smile, was the signature of the Queen. Although she is a kind mistress to her ladies-in-waiting, she is anxious to stamp out the rumors of immorality that pervaded her predecessor. She takes care not to think of her name.

Indeed, in the cool breeze, the Queen shivers a bit. The spring had started so joyfully, so merrily - the warmth of the fine damp air announcing the coming of a golden summer. This had been Jane’s favorite time of year, the weeks of blooming brilliant daffodils, heather, and gorse, and the lilies of the valley, as well as early roses. 

But the May Day tournament that year - Jane steels herself not to think of it. But the court had become overtaken with a chill that even the fierce, subsequent hot months could not disperse. His Majesty, her husband King Henry VIII, was beyond question or doubt, and in any case her motto, “bound to obey and serve”, was close to her own quiet habits. Any suggestion of him to show mercy to the abbeys had only earned her sinister stares, and the Queen had decided it better not to err on the side of compassion too far in opposition to the King’s wishes. After all, any woman would be wise enough to agree. In particular, Jane Seymour pushes away the thought of the woman who had been on her throne, who had dared to disagree. Her dark-eyed mistress, Anne Boleyn - Jane could not bring herself to believe the allegations against her, but could not bear to watch complicity, even as she submitted to her betrothal and marriage to the King. There was nothing she could do for her anyway, and it was her position now to be the proper wife and Queen.

Even so, the King had been a considerate and delightful husband. She loved the constant gifts of special fruits, flowers everywhere she went, revenues from her estates allowing her give largesse far and wide, and the rich clothes and jewels suitable to her status as Queen. Tonight Jane Seymour wears a white gown of silk, embroidered with golden thread, delicately dusted with seed pearls, and tiny blue embroidered forget-me-nots beneath each starry pearl. A gable hood of white satin with gold knots and pearls is atop her head, and a heavy necklace of gold and sapphires adorns her neck. Anne Boleyn had always loved the half-moon-shaped French hood, and French cut clothes, but the King adored the rich purity of Jane’s English gowns. 

The Queen stares into the polished metal mirror for a moment. A year before her position would have been impossible to think of - she had been elevated and celebrated and enriched beyond her wildest dreams. But the joy of the riches in her hands and the jewels upon her neck is tempered, by the knowledge that they have belonged to those long past, who have gone as she might well go, ignore the thought though she might.

But in a moment, she smiles, and her doubts dissipate. She misses the home in the country - the flowers, the fresh air, the new bread - but her calling to the throne of England meant that her husband, her lord, would need her. Jane, ever obedient, is willing for the task at hand. Henry remarks more than once that her fair prettiness and quiet strength reminded him of his mother, the White Rose Elizabeth of York, and Jane prides herself on such a resemblance. She turns and her smile widens as she buries her nose in a nearby bouquet of late, white roses. This, then, is her true emblem, her true image, and the expression of her true love for the King.

Jane Seymour - Floris White Rose

#jane seymour #white rose #floris white rose #floris #hampton court #henry viii #anne boleyn #the tudors

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Anne Boleyn - Frédéric Malle Portrait of a Lady

Portrait of a Lady: Anne Boleyn

1532

Even the enemies of the newly created Marquess of Pembroke could hardly admit anything but that the Lady herself was stunning in the flush of her material and aspirational success - the only thing left, for her to be crowned Queen. 

Indeed, the ceremonial actions of creating the new Marquess included a scarlet velvet coronet of its own, adorned with the gold and pearls beloved of this Lady. Anne Boleyn, daughter of Thomas Boleyn and Elizabeth Howard, now the most powerful peer in the realm, expected to marry the King of England.

The Spanish ambassador Chapuys watches with disgust. The Lady, he never called her anything else, was as puffed up with pride and selfish haughtiness as anyone could be. Perhaps the bitterness of watching the elegant, poised woman with her wealth of beautiful dark locks, stunning black eyes that elicited praise in even the most steadfast opponents, and graceful fashion sense, taste, and elegance down to the perfect French she could display, influenced the Ambassador. His Queen Katharine of Aragon, the silver locks threaded through the fair hair that once enthralled the nation, the gentle grey eyes serene even as illness and the cruelty of her former husband grieves her - this woman has been eclipsed, by another who carries her head as if she had all the royal blood of the princess of Spain that came before her. 

When the King Henry VIII leads his fair maiden from the chamber, she makes her way to her own luxurious panelled rooms, to prepare herself for the evening meal with him. She flings off the coronet, in triumph and relief from its weight, and shakes out the dark hair that is the crown of her beauty. She stares into the polished metal mirror, adorning herself with the milky pearls that suit her somewhat olive complexion, as she dons another brilliant gown of white - to emphasize her status as the promised bride of the King. 

As she gazes into the mirror, the dark eyes, ringed with kohl as she learned in the French court years ago, gaze back, and the rubies at her neck glitter as wine through a crystal goblet fit for the King himself. This English rose knows no bounds in her feminine tricks, but a simple cologne of rosewater and marjoram will not suffice for the Lady who has bewitched the King. A dark, mystical red English rose, the scent as thick as the deepest, sweetest raspberry jam, the smell of lacqured wooden boxes, holding the Lady’s seed-pearl-encrusted gowns - a scent of incense, smoke, a carnal edge to the Catholic incense the Lady Anne herself has opposed. The scent shall be her own, as for the moment, she is the King’s betrothed - and then, God will bless her with a son, she thinks triumphantly, tossing the head of glossy curls with a net of pearls woven through it. She shall be the Madonna of the Nation, a portrait of a true Queen, and the King’s Lady.

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Scenting the Wives of Henry VIII: Katherine of Aragon

England, 1514

Catalina of Aragon and Castile, Queen Katherine of England, sits in a brightly painted room of luxurious panels and tapestries, in the palace of Placentia, nicknamed Greenwich and the favorite palace of her husband. It is December, and the light, sugar-fine dusting of snow outside adds to the cold. Yet, the Queen, who so loved to see the snow on the oranges of her childhood home of the Alhambra Palace, loves to see the soft flakes waft gently down through the scarlet glass Tudor roses on the window. She gazes upward, to the night sky so mauve and violet-hued that the shimmering snowfall will last all night, in the peculiar silence of winter she adores.

She was always meant to be here, she thinks happily. Despite the lessening of her political influence with her husband, despite the stabilization of their relationship that nevertheless faded their previous passion, it has been an enchanting Christmas, and while she approaches her twenty-ninth birthday, she is still beautiful. Her hair remains golden auburn, the hair that had so delighted the painter Miguel Sittow, her eyes the delicate gray-blue that captivated Henry Tudor immediately, and her complexion is as bright and smooth as ever. The King had married her against everyone’s advice in 1509 at his accession - five years later, their affection has not weakened. For Katherine, born and reared with the destiny of Queen of England in front of her, the seven years she had suffered as the impoverished widow of Arthur Tudor at the court of her father in law Henry VII had been seven years of bitter trials, and God had been good to reverse her fortunes, with Katherine even becoming Regent during the King’s time at war.

Indeed, the Christmas season has been delightful. The King and Queen were more united, and the revels more enchanting each day. The King holds ice skating parties and oxen roasts outside, and elegant masques and pageants inside where the courtiers can eat delicately shaded roses of sugar and marchpane, and are sent back to their quarters at the end of the banquets carrying oranges thickly and delightfully studded with cloves. 

The gifts of the King have been lavish indeed, she thinks as she fingers the several bolts of new cloth, of violet silk and scarlet velvet and cloth of gold, the elegantly wrought golden standing cup, the headdress of a blue so brilliant it lights up the room in a haze of sapphires, pearls, and gold and silver thread. Yet though the Queen is fond of finery, she has remembered to gift lavishly to her favorite abbeys. She thinks with satisfaction of the cloth of gold pre-dieu and a necklace of table diamonds she sent. Truly, the seven years of her penury has given her a true appreciation of the fineness of her gifts, and the joy of giving glorious gifts to others.

Perhaps the most glorious of all, the King’s perfumers now create scents for her, a delightful indulgence that her confessor very gently admonishes her for enjoying so much. The King’s own favorite scent of rosewater, ambergris, musk and sugar is delightful, but Queen Katherine, who grew up in the beautiful tiled bathrooms of the Alhambra, loves the scent of oil of roses in the winter. Great vases of roses and orange blossoms are brought into her rooms in season, and her vials of orange flower water and rose water on her great clothespress are replaced daily. Queen Katherine has elegant taste, for fresh lavender in her clothes, and cloves and spices scenting her chambers, while she adores the scent of Catholic incense. 

The Moors taught Catalina an appreciation for the scent of roses, while her husband’s emblem is only too fitting. The Tudor rose, she thinks happily as her fingers turn the glass stopper of her scent vials. The true Tudor rose will be the son she bears to the King - both have longed so much for an heir to the throne, and been bereaved several times. But Katherine has reached a greater plane of confidence, and this Christmas is sure she will be with child soon after the New Year, as she has been feeling uncommonly well.

It is almost time for the night’s revels, and Katherine has changed into a brilliant gown of Tudor green, to emphasize the copper glints of her hair, and to pay homage to her husband, she smiles to herself. A new pomander of perfume, finely wrought in gold, is on the clothespress, and she applies it to the hair that she leaves loose, and to her skirts. It is a sweet scent of roses, thick as honey, with tinges of lilac, hyacinth, and countless other flowers, but above all, a tribute to the rose. As she walks, the green silk of her gown rustles in a cloud of rose fragrance, as she goes to the presence chamber to greet her King and husband with a wifely kiss.

Katherine of Aragon - Guerlain Nahema

#katherine of aragon #henry viii #roses #tudor rose #christmas #guerlain #nahema perfume #greenwich #palace of placentia #the tudors #catalina of spain #nahema

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The Perfumes of Marie Antoinette

France, 1782

Marie Antoinette, with her beloved centifolia roses 

The Meridienne, within the Queen’s Apartments at Versailles

The sprawling, gilded complex of the palace of Versailles is as crowded and noisy as ever, filled as it were with packs of foreign ambassadors, well-dressed nobility prowling about jealously guarding their prerogatives of etiquette, the King departing in a flurry of hounds and well-dressed companions on the hunt, and Parisians out for a day’s sightseeing. Yet the Queen’s apartments remain empty, save for the silk-slippered serving women who keep it in state as befitting the room of a monarch. 

Entrance to the Petit Trianon, at Versailles

Foreign visitors examining the elaborate silk Robes of State shall not see the woman who occasionally dons them — a serene ride from the main complex brings only the most favored courtiers and friends to the small but elegant Petit Trianon. The delightful, compact, and unassuming Neoclassical residence is the main headquarters of the Queen of France these days. Indeed, the exquisite taste of Marie Antoinette combined with her sudden - and decidedly less regal, to the cross minds of her more formal subjects - enthusiasm for rustic pursuits such as gardening and overseeing her flocks of chickens and sheep, have resulted in the creation of a most idyllic wonderland. 

Courtyard of the Petit Trianon

Part of the Queen’s Hameau, or toy village

Artistically weathered wooden buildings and scented flocks of sugar-white, fluffy sheep await the visitor at the Queen’s Hameau, the delightful toy village where the queen and her favored ladies enjoy fresh milk from plump cows and new strawberries peek out from under green vines like heart-shaped rubies. Garden follies, inspired by those of her English friends such as the Duchess of Devonshire, adorn the little estate; that morning, the Queen had taken her morning chocolate, flavored with orange blossom, within the Temple of Love, as beguiling breezes rustled the rose-colored silk of her morning wrapper. It is difficult to stray upon any area of the Petit Trianon that does not delight.

The Temple of Love, at the Petit Trianon

Yet the boudoir of the Queen within the Petit Trianon is the mainstay of Marie Antoinette. Not only beloved for its modesty and privacy, the Queen has established a veritable museum of cosmetics, scent, jewels, and other adornments. Yet with her recent foray with couturier Rose Bertin into the land of the “gaulle” - that most unassuming of white shifts, made from softest linen, airiest muslin, smoothest percale, tied with shimmering silk sashes in the most delicate shades of blue, grey, and violet - the Queen has most recently come to prefer a routine meant to highlight her natural loveliness.

Queen Marie Antoinette, in the muslin “gaulle” or shift dress that caused a scandal for its simplicity

To this end, special shampoos of turmeric and rhubarb to accentuate the golden lights threaded through the darkening ash brown locks of adulthood  - such concoctions help the Queen’s large eyes, of the softest grey-blue, appear like blue silk next to the golden, shimmering lights of her powdered coiffure. Monsieur Léonard Autié created a violet-scented, gilded powder for her ensemble En Gaulle, which Marie Antoinette delights in when viewing the shimmer of it in the gardens of her private house. Monsieur Jean-Louis Fargeon, her beloved perfumer, is the creator of the glossy sticks of garnet, rose, and vermilion the Queen uses on her lips and cheeks, the cleansers and whiteners with names like Eau Des Charmes, and Eau d’Ange. The Queen, admittedly, has no need of excessive cosmetics to enhance her clear, white, smooth complexion, famed within the courts of Europe. But it is her pleasure to apply, nightly and daily, the pomades, softening gloves of violet and musk and amber essence, astringents, meant to preserve dewiness and color within her cheeks and smooth hands. Tthe rosy-silver shade concocted in the still rooms of Fargeon’s personal laboratory, applied to the fingernails, enhances the length and elegance of the queen’s fingers and palms. 

Boudoir of the Queen, at the Petit Trianon

The Queen’s thoughts, as she sits in front of her rosewood dressing table, fly from the antipathy of her courtiers to her elevation of her dearest friend, the Duchesse de Polignac, to the rivalry of said duchess with the Princesse de Lamballe, the former favorite of the Queen, to her desires to conceive again and produce the Dauphin that she, the King, and the country so long for. Indeed, she thinks as she applies a jasmine-scented powder to her collarbones, that even the worries of court rivalry and criticisms of her personal habits cannot dim her joy. The day is warm and fair, and the Queen has filled her boudoir with the violets, lilies of the valley, and other spring flowers that she adores. Happily, she anticipates the blooming of the brilliant, pale pink centifolia roses that are her favorite, in the later, warmer months - but her mind is diverted back to the spring, as her maids bring in, to her immense delight, vases of English bluebells that her dear English friend Georgiana Duchess of Devonshire imported, and that have consented to bloom in the damp soil of the Petit Trianon. The last dab of rouge upon the lips, applied with finest of ivory cosmetic brushes with a sable tip, finishes her maquillage, and sighing with a satisfied sense of luxury, she turns to the collection of scent upon another rosewood boudoir table. 

The scent of the Queen and the picture of her olfactory preferences is not difficult to reconstruct. Her preferences for scent ranged far and wide, from amber, vanilla and spices in the bath, to green herbal concoctions in the heat, to lush tuberose bouquets, delicate posies of violets, the silky buttery aromas of irises. The choices below are fit for anyone imitating the fragrance and glamour of Marie Antoinette.

Christian Dior Diorissimo - a silky yet intense blend of the gorgeous lilies of the valley so prized in the French springtime, the delicate soapy scent of muguet, so refreshing in the gardens of the Trianon in summer.

Lubin Black Jade - reputed to be from a recipe by Jean-Louis Fargeon himself, a shimmering concoction of dark roses, spices, patchouli and amber. Regal, rather than sensuous.

Jean-Charles Brousseau Fleurs d’Ombre Violette-Menthe - a powder soft cloud of violets and mint, an aroma of the silkiest powders used to scent and style the tresses of the Queen.

Cacharel Anais Anais - another intense floral in the clean and soapy vein, a magnificent bouquet of the hyacinth the Queen loved, and the lily of the Royal Family of France that she married into, as well as the aforementioned beloved muguet.

Robert Piguet Fracas - a floral explosion of tuberose, lilacs, gardenia, lily of the valley, jasmine, and orange blossom; perfect for the sumptuous velvets and silks of a Queen who from time to time still needs to don a persona of regality and luxury.

Elizabeth Arden White Shoulders - a complex and vintage white flower blend, focusing upon the sweetness of lilac, gardenia, and tuberose. The slight nuances of violet and the tinge of overripe blossom is offset with a base of clean musk.

Guerlain L’Heure Bleue - an ode to the blue dusks of the Petit Trianon, a heady mix of orange blossom, iris, anise, and heliotrope; a fitting scent for a quiet afternoon reading in the blue draperies of the Meridienne in the formal Queen’s Apartments.

Stella McCartney Stella - a pure, English rose, with a lining of peony and amber in the sweet floral accord. A rose garden of English design, as beloved by Marie Antoinette.

Guerlain Après l'Ondée - a perfect floral of anise, iris, heliotrope, and violets, a scent carried on the breeze to the Temple of Love after rain.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Rosa Pop - a lush, velvety composition of peony, violet, and rose. Evocative of the powders the Queen loved to use on her complexion and hair to enhance their luminosity.

Serge Lutens A La Nuit - a rich jasmine to hint at Middle Eastern fairy tales, told to the queen as she practices her harp in the Petit Trianon.

Serge Lutens Fleurs d’Oranger - the orange blossom, so beloved of this court, augmented with the tuberose and spices the Queen loved. A scent for dining in state with the King as bedazzled and bejeweled courtiers come to witness the monarch and his wife.

Guerlain Insolence - the candy sweetness of violets, yet rich, dark and somehow melancholic. A violet liqueur, poured into the teas beloved of the Queen, to calm her spirits.

Frédéric Malle Carnal Flower - another ode to tuberose, with mint freshness augmenting the floral accord. A riot of green, fresh tuberoses, kept cool in the cellars of a florist, where they will remain fresh for the pleasure of the Queen.

Diptyque Olene - a fresh, watery accord of jasmine and wisteria, a sunny glimpse through the emerald screens of trees in the Trianon’s park, a perfect accompaniment to the muslin dresses of the Queen’s preference. 

Frédéric Malle En Passant - a hint of wheat, a hint of cucumber, watery freshness darting throughout the portrait of white and purple lilacs that would perfectly adorn not just the shoulders of the Queen but the hair and shoulders of her ladies, to stroll in the toy village on a misty spring morning.

Diptyque Do Son - A final ode to tuberose, made fresh and candylike with the addition of pink pepper and orange flower. A tuberose for the Queen to wear with a pale blue dress as she walks with her daughter in the gardens, adorning the little girl’s fair hair with the silkiest of blue ribbons. 

The Queen’s personality is perfectly portrayed through the journey of scent...

#marie antoinette #house of bourbon #jean-louis fargeon #leonard autie #perfume #petit trianon #princesse de lamballe #duchesse de polignac #roses #violets #serge lutens #diptyque #guerlain #cacharel #appartements de la reine #queen marie antoinette #hameau de la reine #frédéric malle #chateau de versailles

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The Floral Essences of a Doomed Empress

While those who were strangers to Princess Alix of Hesse and by Rhine disdained her stuffy manner and chill gaze, unaware that such alienating gestures concealed utter terrors of shyness, those who were in her intimate circle watched her bloom. With orange blossoms in her hair, a white dress on, a rosy face, and charming smile the serious-minded, pious daughter of Princess Alice of England, favorite granddaughter of Queen Victoria, Alix, had enthralled with her entry into society in Darmstadt in Germany, where her father was Grand Duke. 

Princess Alix as a child

Indeed, when at her ease, the beautiful princess’s lovely face relaxed from its almost stony, chill, mournful default expression to a smile so pretty that her loved ones could not but call her “Sunny”. The death of her mother at age six had robbed her of much of her natural exuberance, but her excitement could still be stirred. And stirred it was, by the charming, gentle Nicholas Alexandrovich, heir to the Russian Throne. 

Sunny’s red-gold hair, gentle eyes, fair complexion, excellent dancing and musical skills, and charming manner when at her ease, puzzled British and German society when they examined these fine qualities alongside her heritage of British royalty. Surely, as the years passed, Queen Victoria brought pressure upon her graceful granddaughter to accept the suit of her grandson Eddy, as to be Queen would be the greatest place of all, she reasoned. But Alix rejected him, as she rejected others. The blue eyes of the Tsarevich and the beauty of Russia had captivated her heart since she had seen them both, at the wedding of her sister Ella to Nicholas’s uncle Serge. Alix had only been twelve at the time, the Tsarevich sixteen, but their fates together were sealed. Amidst the pomp of the Russian Orthodox ceremony, it was a marriage of souls between the princess of Hesse-Darmstadt and the Tsarevich of all the Russias, as well as the marriage of their family members.

The marriage of Alexandra Federovna and Nicholas Alexandrovich was only accomplished with the ill-health of the Tsar, the capitulation to Nicholas’s determination to marry Alix, and the strength of the princess herself. She would go on to fame, misfortune, infamy, the brilliant diamonds and emeralds and pearl studded Kokoshniks and crowns of the Russian court, the long Orthodox services, the stares and whispers of courtiers, the difficulties of her mother-in-law, the brilliant panoply of St. Petersburg against blue skies and the elegant blankets of snow alike, deceitful priests, family tragedy, revolution, war, and death - yet at heart, the Princess Alix, the prim Victorian lady, remained the same in her love and affection for Nicholas, and (whatever mistakes she made), for Russia.

While the princess from youth was not one for manicured nails or heavy cosmetics, her adoration of delicate pastel shades of rose and lilac augmented her solemn, almost grieved beauty - the melancholy Victorian shade was a preference for the Empress, and her mauve boudoir at the Alexander Palace was a haven of flowers, portraits, icons and religious books. But she loved flowers, above all - lilacs, roses, lilies of the valley, all were beloved in her boudoir. The Romanovs would prominently display out of season blooms amidst the stark winters of St. Petersburg, to the delight of spoiled courtiers. Alexandra’s passion for lilacs, violets, and roses was legendary. Indeed, later in life during imprisonment a single branch of lilac given her as a gift would bring her to tears, out of gratefulness. 

Jean-Charles Brousseau Fleurs d’Ombre Violette-Menthe (above, center): violets were particularly beloved in the Victorian England that so influenced Alix (alongside the rice puddings and apples beloved of her English nannies). Indeed, this scent  would easily have been enjoyed by the young Princess Alix; a soft cloud of gentle, pastel green mint, enveloped in the gentle aroma of sweeter violets, creates a soft trail of garden freshness. Imagine if you will, the Princess writing love notes to her Tsarevich, scented with this fragrance. The Empress adored Atkinson White Rose perfume, not unlike the similar English Floris White Rose (above, far right), proclaiming its cleanness and sweetness ideal. 

Yet lilacs were the defining love of her floral passion, and for this, Frederic Malle En Passant (above, far left) is a beautiful display of Alexandra, and the princess, Empress, and woman she was. Isolated by bitter aristocratic circles that hated her, a tragic misunderstanding of Russian society, and the need to be strong for her kind yet vacuous, inefficient, and at times carelessly cruel husband, and grown pale and sickly out of anxiety for her hemophiliac son that made her so helpless she leaned on the advice of an opportunistic Siberian peasant -- the fresh, sweet nuances of blooming lilac are elusive and transitory, much like the few moments of true happiness in her life.

Alexandra’s Mauve Boudoir

And yet, this fragrance is a scent of happiness - for a passing moment, she is in a garden at Livadia in the Crimea, in an unusually chilly spring, enjoying the misty spray from a nearby fountain as she gathers white and purple lilacs, blissfully inhaling their freshness. The light breeze carries the faintest scent of bread, from the tea tables being set for her and the Tsar. One of her maids-of-honor plays a balalaika, and the music matches the laughter of her children playing nearby. For this passing moment, the sweet overpowers the bitter, and she smiles.

#tsar nicholas ii #alexandra federovna #princess alix of hesse and by rhine #princess alix of hesse-darmstadt #tsaritsa alexandra #frederic malle en passant #lilacs #roses #flowers #violets #jean-charles brousseau #floris white rose #floris #jean-charles brousseau fleurs d'ombre violette-menthe

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Portrait of a Lady: Anne Boleyn

1532

Even the enemies of the newly created Marquess of Pembroke could hardly admit anything but that the Lady herself was stunning in the flush of her material and aspirational success - the only thing left, for her to be crowned Queen. 

Indeed, the ceremonial actions of creating the new Marquess included a scarlet velvet coronet of its own, adorned with the gold and pearls beloved of this Lady. Anne Boleyn, daughter of Thomas Boleyn and Elizabeth Howard, now the most powerful peer in the realm, expected to marry the King of England.

The Spanish ambassador Chapuys watches with disgust. The Lady, he never called her anything else, was as puffed up with pride and selfish haughtiness as anyone could be. Perhaps the bitterness of watching the elegant, poised woman with her wealth of beautiful dark locks, stunning black eyes that elicited praise in even the most steadfast opponents, and graceful fashion sense, taste, and elegance down to the perfect French she could display, influenced the Ambassador. His Queen Katherine of Aragon, the silver locks threaded through the fair hair that once enthralled the nation, the gentle grey eyes serene even as illness and the cruelty of her former husband grieves her - this woman has been eclipsed, by another who carries her head as if she had all the royal blood of the princess of Spain that came before her. 

When the King Henry VIII leads his fair maiden from the chamber, she makes her way to her own luxurious panelled rooms, to prepare herself for the evening meal with him. She flings off the coronet, in triumph and relief from its weight, and shakes out the dark hair that is the crown of her beauty. She stares into the polished metal mirror, adorning herself with the milky pearls that suit her somewhat olive complexion, as she dons another brilliant gown of white - to emphasize her status as the promised bride of the King. 

As she gazes into the mirror, the dark eyes, ringed with kohl as she learned in the French court years ago, gaze back, and the rubies at her neck glitter as wine through a crystal goblet fit for the King himself. This English rose knows no bounds in her feminine tricks, but a simple cologne of rosewater and marjoram will not suffice for the Lady who has bewitched the King. A dark, mystical red English rose, the scent as thick as the deepest, sweetest raspberry jam, the smell of lacqured wooden boxes, holding the Lady’s seed-pearl-encrusted gowns - a scent of incense, smoke, a carnal edge to the Catholic incense the Lady Anne herself has opposed. The scent shall be her own, as for the moment, she is the King’s betrothed - and then, God will bless her with a son, she thinks triumphantly, tossing the head of glossy curls with a net of pearls woven through it. She shall be the Madonna of the Nation, a portrait of a true Queen, and the King’s Lady.

#Anne Boleyn #Marquess of Pembroke #Henry VIII #Katharine of Aragon #Eustace Chapuys #Frederic Malle #Portrait of a Lady #Roses #Rose Perfume #Dominique Ropion #England #The Tudors

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Ode To A Fragrance, Number 2: Floris White Rose

A small, soft-spoken, yet soberly demure young woman emerges from her bridal carriage in a swirl of the most beautiful, delicate white silk, on the arm of her father. The woman is no ordinary bride, but a Princess of the United Kingdom and heir to the throne, although for the day she is Princess of Happiness, Princess of Prosperity, and the Queen of Love and Beauty as she strides into the glorious Westminster Abbey, for marriage to her Prince Charming - Philip Mountbatten.

Elizabeth Windsor, serious-minded heir to the throne, dog and horse enthusiast, and former army second subaltern and mechanic, dutifully saved her clothing rationing coupons in the midst of the Second World War’s end, returning those her admirers attempted to transfer to her with protestations of gratitude. As was proper for the Heir to the Throne, China provided the silkworms for the material, rather than other countries who may have been enemies of Great Britain in the recent war. But there, the practical and political ended - Princess Elizabeth was a breath of Springtime, the personification of Botticelli’s ideas of prosperity and rebirth. Norman Hartnell designed her gown accordingly, a structured and glorious confection of silk, satin, embroidery heavy with pearls and gems, motifs of stars and blossoms thick upon the delicate tulle of the veil. 

To a nation used to austerity, rationing, practicality, war, death, and weariness, the gown must have been a revelation. Its very modesty would have lent the imagination of dream of luxury, as there was evidently no expense spared in the obtainment of adequate silk for the gown, and perhaps - impossible to think of! but not too much for the Princess - there was even fabric left over! The dress, to those who cared to see, was the promise of love and beauty for the nation, for Spring to come again.

And what fragrance, you may ask, to accompany the brilliant diamond tiara (whose rapid repair left it somewhat, charmingly, askew in the bride’s brown curls), the satin silk open toed shoes, the elaborate spray of orchids in her hands, the exquisite pearls adorning her, and the smile of love and happiness on her face? In its purity, a blossoming scent of white roses and carnations. 

Tender notes of violet, jasmine, and iris lend shimmering facets of softness, purity, and mysteriousness, to this glorious white English rose. Said to be in production since 1800, Floris White Rose is a delightfully heady rose scent, with close sillage - perfect for a passionately private, then coolly, publicly contained, Queen of The United Kingdom, then, her Royal Highness the Princess Elizabeth, beautiful young daughter of the King and Queen, but most of all (for the moment, at the very least) a happy bride. 

#elizabeth ii #house of windsor #princess elizabeth #elizabeth windsor #prince philip #duke of edinburgh #philip mountbatten #floris #perfume #floris white rose #rose perfume #great britain #royalty

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The Fragrant Glory of Françoise-Athénaïs de Rochechouart de Mortemart, Marquise de Montespan

Françoise-Athénaïs de Rochechouart de Mortemart, Marquise de Montespan, beloved mistress of Louis XIV

In a candlelit boudoir, hung with gold and silver lace and gilded fabrics, filled with flowers, towers of sparkling wine, a massive display of pink and gold croquembouches - here, a woman sits languidly, playing le hocca with her ladies, yet, absently, as if she were working on a stitching sampler instead of partaking in the most expensive and ruinous gambling game anyone had ever heard of. She knows the ladies have no fortune to risk upon the table, so the fun is dulled for her.

She thinks of her lover, the glorious king Louis XIV, whose dark eyes and black curls and martial prowess played with the hearts as well as the ambitions of all the court ladies. The simple, sweet Louise de la Vallière  (the woman in question sniffs dismissively) could not hold him, and the woman turns her face to the mirror to triumphantly observe her own beauty, the beauty of the Rochechouarts and Mortemarts - as her sister Gabrielle de Thianges said to the king, really their own blood was more ancient than his! 

Françoise-Athénaïs de Rochechouart de Mortemart, Marquise de Montespan, examines her wealth of curling blonde hair, arranged in the hurluberlu style of curls around the face that she adored, as she adored the silk déshabillé robes she wore with Louis - anything that reminded him of his passion was bound to be his preference. She admires, for a moment, the rosy mouth in no need of rouge, the porcelain skin, and shockingly white teeth (for the time, after all). Satisfied, she reaches for her most beloved bottle of perfume - would a woman who inspired ballets, operas, a dress of pure gold from an aspiring courtier, neglect her own scent? Impossible.

The Marquise de Montespan

From a finely cut crystal bottle, she raises the dabber delicately, and applies a scent of orange blossom (the Sun King’s favorite), tuberose (her own favorite), jasmine, spices...she smirks as she remembers Françoise Scarron, that woman born in a prison, in the Indies, no less, who constantly attempts to sabotage her relationship with the King. But Françoise Scarron, the Marquise de Maintenon, while to do justice to her dark eyed beauty and preference of luxurious taffeta skirts (no matter their dark and dour color), her silent coldness and priggish lavender sachets could never be the match for her own physical warmth and the love of fine food, fabrics, and perfumes that she and her royal lover shared. He had built a fine porcelain playhouse for her, where her favorite tuberoses bloomed, and then of course gifted her a true chateau at Clagny, for she was the true Queen. She debuted her own favorite jasmine perfume on that occasion, and the scent of jasmine now continuously pervaded her hair.

Françoise Scarron, who battled with her friend the Marquise de Montespan for the King’s soul

The Marquise de Montespan, lounging in her silken déshabillé at her chateau of Clagny

The glorious Porcelain Trianon of Versailles, built for the Marquise de Montespan

She grins, as she replaces the stopper. “Fleurs d’oranger, et jasmin de la nuit”, she smiles to herself as she returns to the gaming table. “With those, I need nothing else.”

#serge lutens #a la nuit #fleurs d'oranger #versailles #athenais #madame de montespan #athenais de montespan #francoise scarron #madame de maintenon #porcelain trianon #trianon #jasmine #orange blossom

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Gardenia Perfumes: A Marriage of Innocence and Intoxication

Her Royal Highness Catherine Duchess of Cambridge, who wore Illuminum’s White Gardenia Petals - a blend of lily of the valley, gardenia, jasmine - to her wedding on April 29, 2011.

The fragrance of gardenia, with its green fresh top notes and more carnal, honeyed aspects underneath, is addictive to those who crave outspoken floral scents as well as beachy glamour. Gardenia scents can translate into seduction as well as clean comfort.

The versatility of this flower must not be underestimated. In the language of flowers, it translates to love and harmony. For a fragrance that is so elusive it can only be approximated in perfumery rather than distilled from the blooms itself, it can translate to vintage allure, memories of vacation blooms, the languid heaviness of summer air laced with its scent, or as decoration for spring and summer nuptials. The Duchess of Cambridge reportedly wore Illuminum White Gardenia Petals for her wedding day, which only highlights the suitability of this scent and flower as an augmentation of a beautiful bride.

Her Royal Highness Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, in her cream and ivory silk wedding gown, wearing White Gardenia Petals by Illuminum, on her wedding day on April 29, 2011.

The creamy sweetness of these flowers is illuminated in the following fragrances:

Van Cleef and Arpels Collection Extraordinaire Gardénia Pétale, a chic blend of white flowers such as jasmine and tuberose, and clean aspects lent to it by the inclusion of lily of the valley

Pacifica Tahitian Gardenia, similar in packaging and execution to Tuvache’s famous Jungle Gardenia, blends potent tea and orange blossom accords with the gardenia to create an intensely honeyed flower scent

Elizabeth Taylor Gardenia, an ode to the fragrance with its sweet, humid aspects explored, and a touch of muguet to bring it back to the green garden

Kai by Gaye Straza, the cleanest and beachiest gardenia available, only a touch of sweetness at the top to lure one in while the rest is reminiscent of summer breezes

White Shoulders by Elizabeth Arden (formerly by Evyan), a classic bouquet of lily, lily of the valley, tuberose, jasmine, and gardenia, a narcotic and potent white floral blend that ends in a ladylike whisper of clean musk

Shall you choose one of them for your wedding, or vacation?

#gardenia perfume #van cleef and arpels #white shoulders perfume #elizabeth taylor #kate middleton #pacifica #Catherine Duchess of Cambridge #kai #royal wedding

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In Honor of the Duchess of Sussex: British Perfumery (A Love Story)

Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Sussex on her wedding day, wearing the tiara of Queen Mary, wife of George V and Elizabeth II’s grandmother

Entering the British royal family, the most publicized royal family in the world, would understandably faze many people. The love displayed in the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle made it abundantly clear, however, that the happiness of a personal journey into a true partnership can transcend the difficulties of intransigent family members, stuffy traditions, and lack of privacy.

In honor of the new Duchess of Sussex (who is a self-described perfume addict!), the beautiful simplicities and intricate formulas of British perfumery displayed here suit the beautiful regality of Duchess Meghan, and are evocative of her unique grace.

The most famous British perfume houses, Floris and Penhaligon’s, have long created scents for the British Royal Family, with Penhaligon’s Bluebell the rumored favorite of Her Majesty Elizabeth II and Princess Diana, while the Dukes of Cambridge and Sussex respectively reportedly wear Blenheim Bouquet and Juniper Sling from the famed house. In turn, Floris is reputed to be the preferred scent house of Prince Charles of Wales, as well as the fragrance house that created a bespoke wedding scent for both the Duke of Sussex and the Duchess of Sussex to wear on their wedding day. Harry and Meghan’s rumored wedding scent is said to be based on Floris’s citrus Bergamotto di Positano, and this would have been the perfect choice to augment their lemon and elderflower wedding cake!

The Duchess of Sussex walks down the aisle during her wedding ceremony at Windsor Castle - perhaps wearing her citrus bespoke Floris wedding perfume along with her Clare Waight Keller for Givenchy gown

Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Sussex also is a fan of Jo Malone London, her favorites being the Wild Bluebell and Wood Sage and Sea Salt colognes. She shares this affinity for the simple, chic modern perfume line with her new sister-in-law the Duchess of Cambridge, who reportedly favors the classic Red Roses and Orange Blossom colognes and scented her own wedding in 2011 at Westminster Abbey with the candles of Jo Malone’s Orange Blossom, Grapefruit, and Lime Basil and Mandarin scents.

The Duchess of Sussex and the Duchess of Cambridge both favor Jo Malone London

Perhaps a choice of one of the following will help illuminate the beauty and creativity of British fragrance (or at least, help you channel your inner Duchess!):

Penhaligon’s and Floris’s treatment of the lily of the valley accord are both unique - Penhaligon’s augments the sweet freshness with mossy and woody notes, while Floris takes a stark turn into a more bracing citrus accord to offset the natural green essence of lily of the valley. Penhaligon’s Bluebell, in turn, is a woodsy, rosy hyacinth, perfectly evocative of British bluebell forests.

Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Sussex at the wedding of Princess Diana’s niece, channeling the sweet simplicity of her favorite fragrance Wild Bluebell- wearing an Oscar de la Renta gown evocative of British bluebell woods and classic porcelain designs, and her wedding heels

Jo Malone London remains a classic perfume line for the beautiful simplicity and chic freshness of their colognes, meant to create a discreet aroma without sacrificing their charms. Choose Earl Grey and Cucumber cologne, or Blackberry and Bay cologne, for a warm summer day to bring refreshment - Meghan’s favorite, Wild Bluebell cologne, is a perfect combination of bellflower, lily of the valley, and ozonic watery freshness. Channel the ladylike English elegance of Catherine Duchess of Cambridge with Red Roses cologne, Velvet Rose and Oud Cologne Intense, or Peony and Blush Suede cologne - classic floral accords modernized with lush green notes or watery tinges in the top to bring sensual elegance to otherwise old-fashioned rose and peony accords.

Nevertheless, there cannot be a mention of British perfumery without references to the patchouli-based scent that French-English icon Jane Birkin created with London perfumer Miller Harris (Birkin’s designs decorate both box and bottle) and the classic, delicious rose accord in Stella by Stella McCartney.

Jane Birkin, the co-creator of Miller Harris L’Air de Rien, with Serge Gainsbourg in London 

The adaptability of British perfume houses to be both innovative yet classic and elegantly reserved remains an inspiration for both fragrance and other forms of art.

#jane birkin #serge gainsbourg #stella mccartney #meghan markle #harry and meghan #meghan duchess of sussex #kate middleton #catherine duchess of cambridge #duchess of sussex #duchess of cambridge #jo malone london #princess diana #queen elizabeth ii #floris #penhaligon's #great britain #prince harry #meghan and harry #prince william #royal wedding #duke and duchess of sussex

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White Nights: The Sensuality of Tuberose

The seemingly innocent white flowers of tuberose, chronicled beautifully in the artwork by the preferred botanist and gardener of Marie Antoinette (and later, Empress Josephine), Pierre-Joseph Redouté, remain a powerful natural deception. The scent of these flowers is anything but innocent and retiring, yet the combination has proved an addictive draw to lovers of scent and beauty throughout centuries. 

The glorious palace of Versailles was not only a product of King Louis XIV’s personal conviction of “gloire”, and a showcase of his wealth and power, but also the stage upon which his erotic desires played out. His first mistress, Louise de la Vallière, was shy and shrinking, and could hardly stand the strong scent of tuberose that perfumed the marble halls reeking of damp plaster and waste. When she departed for her convent, the King’s second mistress, the glorious Athénaïs de Montespan, was free to indulge her every whim, in the pleasures of gambling, food, and the strong scents of tuberose and jasmine at every turn.

Louise de la Vallière, Duchesse de Vaujours 

Athénaïs, Marquise de Montespan

The appeal of tuberose to royalty did not cease, even as King Louis XIV later in life could not stand the strong perfumes he once loved. Marie Antoinette would later fall in love with this note, and her preferred perfumer Jean-Louis Fargeon would include it in the fresh floral scents she adored, and in the oily base he smeared onto the finest leather of her perfumed gloves. 

Marie Antoinette

You may find aspects of these dramas in the gallery of tuberoses displayed:

Victoria’s Secret Bombshell Seduction - clean, aquatic, a citrusy and reserved take on tuberose, the scent of a beautiful Louise de la Vallière attempting to find a place for herself in the confusion of Versailles.

Michael Kors Eau de Parfum - the indolic note of tuberose has been replaced with laundry musks, tea, and a hint of gardenia, to emphasize the sweet greenness of tuberose and yet add a tinge of powder (which could be interpreted perhaps, as a slight reference the many children that Louis XIV fathered with several mothers?)

Fracas de Robert Piguet - the grande dame of tuberose scents, this classic perfume (reportedly a favorite of Marilyn Monroe and Sofia Coppola, among others) combines a full pantheon of glorious white blooms: jasmine, narcissus, orange blossom, lily of the valley, and gardenia to shore up the opulence of the main tuberose accord. The scent of the Marquise de Montespan plotting her seduction of the king, at night by candlelight in her famous loose silk ensembles. 

Diptyque Do Son - a more playful, candied take on the tuberose note itself due to the pink pepper and African orange flower, yet the rose and iris notes ground the scent itself to be a ladylike interpretation of the scent. An ideal scent of walking the gardens of Versailles.

Frederic Malle Carnal Flower - a green masterpiece, with jasmine and tuberose forming the heart, yet menthol and eucalyptus notes emphasizing the freshness of the bloom. Akin to a vase of tuberoses in a florist’s fridge, ready to burst into fragrant opulence at the first sign of heat, this is the ideal tuberose to represent Marie Antoinette, with her preference for garden freshness and simplicity.

To explore this note, is to explore the sensuality of the soul...

#tuberose #frederic malle #diptyque #robert piguet #michael kors #victoria's secret #perfume #marie antoinette #louise de la valliere #athenais de montespan #louis xiv #versailles

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Queen of Scent and Beauty: An Ode to Lily of the Valley

Lilies of the valley are unmistakable hallmarks of spring, their delicate white bell-shaped blooms and daintiness almost diametrically opposed to the soapy, rather aggressively clean aspect of the scent of the flower. Yet the hint of vegetal sweetness in the aroma keeps the scent from being too harsh, and its delicate beauty is perfect for the warmth of the sun and the breezes of spring.

The scent itself is also a hallmark of elegance, bottled to perfection in the hands of master perfumer Edmond Roudnitska for the house of Christian Dior in the 1950′s. Indeed, European royals, couturiers, and stars alike have taken inspiration from this innocuous seeming flower. Christian Dior incorporated it into several designs, both vintage and contemporary. The wedding of Kate Middleton and Prince William in 2011 shone a spotlight onto the now-Duchess’s love for this flower, meant to symbolize humility and sweetness, with sugar lilies of the valley making an appearance on the stunning bridal cake, embroidered lilies of the valley on her dress, and the sweet, unassuming sprigs of lily of the valley in her bouquet. It has become a standard for wedding designs, in the delicate lace appliqué of the white skirt of a royal Alexander McQueen wedding gown, and a standard of chic, as exemplified by Kirsten Dunst’s Christian Dior “Muguet” dress at Cannes.

Details of the lily of the valley theme on the Duchess of Cambridge’s bridal ensemble by Sarah Burton for Alexander McQueen.

The sugar lilies of the valley adorning the bridal cake of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, by Fiona Cairns.

The perfection of lily of the valley, bottled in Diorissimo by Christian Dior, adorning the Dior “Muguet” gown on Kirsten Dunst at Cannes, and displayed to nuptial perfection in wedding photographs with Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly.

“Muguet” hat, by Christian Dior, 1957.

Yet it comes back to the fragrance, in the end. As dry and powdery, clean and soapy as iris, but sweet as the scent of fine-milled French soaps. “Vive la Reine Blanche des Jardins”.

#lily of the valley #kirsten dunst cannes #audrey hepburn bride #grace kelly bride #kate middleton wedding dress #fiona cairns #sarah burton for alexander mcqueen #fashion #christian dior #catherine duchess of cambridge #kate middleton #princess grace of monaco #audrey hepburn

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Empress Josephine - Queen of Violet Scents

Picture, if you will, a lady with a sweet face, lips in readiness to speak any words of kindness, the lines of her smiles etched into the porcelain of her skin. She walks in the rose gardens of her home, Malmaison, that she has worked so hard over the years to furnish and garden to her tastes. Her name at birth was Rose, and she has worked endlessly with the famous gardener of Marie Antoinette, Pierre-Joseph Redoute, to gather and organize every variety of rose and plant she can.

And yet, despite her love of roses, this woman, renamed Josephine by the love of her life, the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, is dressed in violet silk. A gown of violet, a thin shawl of violet, dainty delicate violet silk slippers, and the famous Amethyst Parure adorns her neck, arms, and ears. As her husband has divorced her, she maintains the style of living that he commands as his ex-wife, but chooses the melancholy color of violets, and douses herself in the violet essences he once preferred to her more animalic musk scents.

This is Empress Josephine, who came from the dramatic technicolor vivacity of the Caribbean with its endless sugarcane fields and the cruelty of slavery in front of her eyes to teach her kindness and tolerance in the face of the ugliness around her. This woman, who came within a hairbreadth of losing her head on the guillotine, whose first husband repudiated her, then embraced her friendship as they both were imprisoned in the filthy, straw-covered prisons of the Reign of Terror. And violets are the hallmark of her personal fragrance. The color, both melancholy and elegant, marked her her whole life, and violets became the hallmark of her love affair with Napoleon, who covered her grave with violets.

These three scents, then, are the emblematic violet scents that Josephine would have treasured. These three are beautifully illustrative of her quiet charm, the sweet comfort she brought others, and the soft femininity Napoleon loved in her.

Balenciaga Paris - a more cerebral, quiet, powdery violet. This violet has been stripped of its candy like nuances to present the melancholy aspect of this flower. Pale, powdery, quiet of speech, after being forced to relinquish her husband for him to marry the Austrian princess who later deserted him, it is the scent of Josephine’s quiet salon in those first days at Malmaison , realizing the while she had lost her husband she had gained a measure of freedom from the eyes of courtiers. Smooth, comforting in its sadness, and contemplative.

Guerlain Insolence Eau de Toilette - a riotous explosion of raspberry, violet, rose, orange blossom, and fruits, meant to highlight the candied sweetness and levity of violet in the heart. A scent for the courtship of Napoleon and Josephine, where both dealt with tremendous emotional highs and lows of their affair and marriage.

Guerlain Insolence Eau de Parfum - the Empress of violet scents. A gorgeous melange of the most perfect, smooth, powdery violet, with iris to enhance the softness. This is the sweetest and most traditional violet scent of the three, and recalls Josephine in the majesty of her role as Empress, yet never sacrificing her charm.

Try one of these, and slip into the shoes of Josephine de Beauharnais, at whatever point of fortune she may have been at in her wanderings, and her tremendously varied life.

#empress josephine #napoleon and josephine #violet scents #violet perfumes #guerlain insolence #balenciaga paris perfume #napoleonic amethyst parure #chateau de malmaison #reign of terror

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Ode to a Fragrance, Number 1: Sarah Jessica Parker Lovely

This post shall be one of many occasional digressions from the important parts of history that communicate with scent and our perceptions of people - an important part of appreciating scent is to fall in love with it repeatedly, on an individual basis.

Thus, we have Sarah Jessica Parker’s Lovely. Perhaps an unexpected choice, but the resemblance to Narciso Rodriguez’s signature scent (many times remarked upon) is a positive reflection upon the tastes of its creator. 

Narciso Rodríguez, who took inspiration from the Egyptian musks that Carolyn Bessette Kennedy adored, created a minimalist yet somehow luxuriously feminine interpretation of musk. Nevertheless, the perfection of the musk retains the slightest touch of androgyny - wonderful for some tastes (and gender identities), but mine veer to the traditionally feminine, in scent (”girly” ones, as it were). Sarah Jessica Parker, a known lover of Bonne Bell Skin Musk and other oils, created a surprisingly refined blend, Lovely retaining just enough lavender and floral touches to offset the gorgeous musk. It is Narciso Rodriguez touched up, for women who feel most at home in a pale, shell pink charmeuse slip dress with a fuzzy, cable knit pink sweater on top. I love to spray it on sweatshirts, for its clean, comfortable allure. Thank you, Sarah Jessica Parker!

#sarah jessica parker #sarah jessica parker lovely #celebrity scents #narciso rodriguez #musk fragrances #lovely perfume #carolyn bessette kennedy

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A beginning...

It begins with Chanel No. 5, as always. The rectangular bottle, slightly modified over the several decades it has existed, sometimes slightly oblong, sometimes narrower, sometimes holding iterations of Chanel fragrances long past (the series she came out with to compete with the Wertheimers who owned her precious formula, immediately following the Second World War, comes to mind).  The packaging is strangely quotidian yet classic, simple - the lines as exact as a Frank Lloyd Wright home, but the rest of the composition and what is inside is belied by the apparent simplicity. It has been celebrated in culture countless times and is immediately recognizable.

Ernest Beaux and Coco Chanel: The co-architects of fragrance’s most iconic scent.

The scent, however, is a different story. The stuff of legends, today for many it is a gold standard to be rarely worn - to paraphrase Mark Twain, a classic that many wish to claim but a surprisingly large number do not wish to wear.

Yet the scent is the epitome of everything that perfume can be, can recall, and can evoke. It is not uncommon to hear this fragrance can induce a kind of synethesia - where the fizzy aldehydes at the top, that Beaux introduced to his scent to recall the scent of cold Siberian air, can bring to mind the colors of bright raspberry pink and softest pale gold suede. The scent is both contained and yet expressive, effusive yet silent. The powder and aldehydes mean, for many, this scent is too powdery, standoffish, cold, traditional. But on skin, it blooms, to a warm golden symphony of rose and jasmine. Its vivacity and extroversion comes through, on the skin, in a way it cannot in its abstraction, technically perfect though it is. It is the scent of happiness.

No scent is more emblematic of how perfume can evoke tradition, and yet invert it. The history behind it is equally thrilling - the scent was a reworked version of Rallet’s scent for Tsaritsa Alexandra of Russia, and Beaux carried this with him as inspiration (as well as the air of his Siberian lakes) forward. Coco Chanel, who prided herself on her particularly strong and detailed sense of smell, adored his idea of expensive jasmine and demanded it be included more than ever to raise the price. But the symphony of jasmine and rose is never overdone, and the aldehydes produce a powdery skin-scent that will evolve with the chemistry of each wearer.

The icon, now and forever, remains famous, with good reason. It is an invaluable piece of fragrance history, and tied inextricably to the vagaries of fate and fortune and then the thrilling new direction, minimalist and yet emotional, that Beaux and Chanel took the art of scent, forever. In current, and vintage form, this scent will always remain the foremost inspiration of my love of fragrance. 

#scent #history #fragrance #french culture #perfume #coco chanel #ernest beaux #chanel no 5