Vintage Tobacco: Chérigan Fleurs de Tabac

I grew up around old people, and as a child of nine years whose mother worked as a sole charge nurse in a number of aged-care homes, I got to know many of the patients by name. A bespectacled lady called Daisy taught me how to knit, a mute named Sylvia to write with my left hand, and Sam... well, he taught me not to smoke.

Sam terrified me every time he would follow me down a hallway with his emphysemic rattle and persistent wheeze. Gaunt and ashen, he had been a heavy smoker all his life. I would watch my mother dispense his daily allowance of cigarettes (usually three) with his medications after breakfast, but also knew he rolled his own thanks to contraband smuggled in to the resthome by other patients. But that was our little secret.

Right up until the day before I found him lifeless one morning in his bed, I would watch Sam roll his illicit cigarettes and would always indulge if invited to push my nose into his outstretched bag of stringy cured tobacco. It smelled pungent and sweet. Now, some 30 years after Sam's passing, I recall that distinct odour... though not by way of a bag of tobacco.

Chérigan Perfumers is a company for which there is little recorded history in the public arena. It was said to be established in the 1920's in Paris by a Czech immigrant named Ota Polacek whose Champs Elysées address was shared by so many influential perfume houses of that age. In 1929, no less than three perfumes were launched to the house's credit: Mascarades, Chance, and Fleurs de Tabac. Examples of all three perfumes (as well as a number of others released in the 1940's) still exist to this day, though they are found quite infrequently. Fleurs de Tabac is a wonderful example of the European penchant for tobacco-inspired scents in the 20's and 30's, and is the cause of today's vivid recollection from my youth.

It is often Tabac Blond - the masterwork of perfumer Ernest Daltroff and founder of the house of Caron - that is seen as the yardstick against which all other tobacco scents are measured, however Fleurs de Tabac emerges as a strong contender for the ultimate tobacco accolade. Whilst Tabac Blond was primarily marketed to women, Fleurs de Tabac was geared towards men; although it is fair to say that both perfumes seem to have a shared respect and appreciation across both genders.

Fleurs de Tabac is a paradigm of masterful blending. Without any olfactory notes to refer to, I follow my nose and enjoy a brisk citrus opening and am instantly charmed by a dry, smokey vetiver which swells from beneath. There is an 'unaired' mustiness that the vetiver brings and it possesses a certain 'olfactory temperature' that I immediately recognise: Guerlain's illustrious Djedi instantly springs to mind. Star-shaped tobacco flowers and jasmine tippy-toe over generous splinters of cured tobacco leaves, and a spicy warmth spreads laterally across the heart of this perfume. Here is where Fleurs de Tabac and Tabac Blond converge slightly in style (though the former lacks the punchy clove and leather notes that the latter possesses). A rich amber/vanilla base can be felt through a a light haze of smoke, and as the perfume dries down it becomes increasingly fleecy and powdery. A sensual muskiness reveals itself - one that can be likened to the sensation of burying ones face in the plush fur or hide of a magnificent beast. With it's final whispers, Fleurs de Tabac becomes a cas fortuit of carnality.

When coming to know this perfume, it is an important revelation to discover that Ota Polacek opened a second outlet after the store on Champs Elysées was established, and that was in Havana, Cuba. I would speculate that the raw tobacco materials used to create Fleurs de Tabac might well have been sourced (and even distilled) locally, and a retail outlet created to meet the demands of the Cuban contingent. Whatever the case, Fleurs de Tabac is a virtually unknown tobacco perfume which possesses all I love about the Art Deco age.

Although not having made a splash in the industry for decades, it is interesting to note that Chérigan Paris have a basic website, registered through a company in the Netherlands.

GUERLAIN - Les Absolus d'Orient : Ambre Eternel

In 2014, Guerlain perfumer Thierry Wasser introduced Santal Royal, the first scent in a series of fragrances directed firmly at the middle eastern market. Les Absolus d'Orient explore exotic raw materials common in the East, and 2016, Guerlain has launched it's second Ambre Eternal.

I feel - before I write my actual review - that the term 'amber' deserves some disambiguation. You see, it's somewhat common in the fragrance world - particularly for newcomers - for one to be bamboozled by the term. Here on Sorcery of Scent, I've blogged before about vegetal amber (i.e.: the hardened nuggets of tree sap, fossilised over many decades), and this is the component that many recognise when one sees the 'amber' being used in a perfume pyramid, or in a perfume's name. The scent profile of this type of amber is characterised usually by a blend of individual components such as labdanum, vanilla and patchouli. The 'other' amber, however, is grey amber (ambergris) - a by-product of the sperm whale which is highly coveted by perfumers for it's fixative qualities. Ambergris is formed in the gut of the sperm whale, whose diet comprises chiefly of squid. The hard squid beaks and cartilage that is not easily digested by the whale remain in the intestine, and over time, is covered by a thick, waxy intestinal secretion that grows and grows in size as the whale ages. Whilst many have suggested that the whale somehow passes this colossal blob from it's body (through regurgitation), the truth is that the process has never been witnessed and thus cast's a shadow of doubt. Others believe that the whale in fact perishes as a result of this intestinal obstruction, and when the carcass is eventually broken down by sharks and other feeding marine animals, the indigestible mass is released into the sea, where it floats for many years, taking on a richer, marine/balsamic quality.

The reason for the short lesson here, is because Ambre Eternal is much less the former, (vegetal amber) and much more the latter (grey amber).  This excites me no end, as ambergris interpretations in modern perfumery are scant, and perhaps none I find more enjoyable than this new Guerlain release.

With expectations of a honey-like sweet amber extinguished, one can approach Ambre Eternal with a sense of excitement, because it is quite literally like nothing you might have imagined. First of all, for one, it feels very Thierry Wasser. By this, I mean it does not hold any olfactory markers that liken it to the Jacques and Jean-Paul creations of the house... rather, it pushes forward just as one now expects from Thierry's work; that is, it continues to plot a new point in the arc that is the new Guerlain of the two-thousand-and-teens.
Ambre Eternel has a curious flight - one which instantly veers away from the usual Guerlain citrus/floral quickstep, and instead feels somewhat ashen and animalic from the outset. A spiced scattering of dry coriander and cardamom seed introduces an almost-instant ambergris / leathery feel... a sense of balsamic earthiness that immediately tells you this is not a(nother) vegetal amber interpretation. A very delicate peachey/ylang-ylang ribbon underpins the composition; never quite reaching the dizzying heights of Mitsouko et al, but rather, acts as a supportive strut to the composition, lending a light tenderness to what feels like quite a gruff, masculine framework. Precious woody notes play off the slightly salty ambergris, which leave a dry sensation at the back of the nose. But somewhere within - as Ambre Eternal warms on skin - there is a curious fleecy, almost waxy facet. It is warm, husky and very animalic - perhaps much like one might imagine the back of an elephant's ear to smell of. There is something organic about this perfume as it warms on skin, and this gives it a sultry, somewhat carnal quality.

Ambre Eternel ticks many boxes for yours truly. Not only does it highlight again that Wasser is indeed a master of his craft, but it also shows his startling innovation and incredible restraint. Wasser has recognised and demonstrated here that Middle Eastern perfumes need not always shout... rather, they can beckon and haunt; like the stirring song of a whale.

Ambre Eternel is available as a 125ml Eau de Parfum from selected retailers and on guerlain.com.

Ne m'Oubliez Pas - New from Guerlain

This year, Guerlain Parfumeur Thierry Wasser restores the Maison's celubrious tradition of somewhat affordable luxury with the release of "Ne m'Oubliez Pas"; a new pure parfum creation with sales limited strictly to the flagship Guerlain boutique on the world-famous Champs Elysées. It marks the second release of an extrait de parfum in recent times, presented in a generous 125ml quadrilobe flacon... "Le Bouquet de la Mariée" - the first -  was intended for (but not limited to) brides-to-be. Given the pair's generous concentration and liberal fluid volumes, their price (from €500 - €750) is more attainable for most than their spectacular annual editions that often run in the high thousands.

Ne m'Oubliez Pas - to my mind - feels more like a harkening back to the House's illustrious history of coveted editions made in small quantities, rather than Bouquet de la Mariée's conspicuous marketing brief compliance. Ne m'Oubliez Pas, for one, feels undisputedly Guerlain... it draws an arc through points plotted along the Guerlain timeline since Wasser's ascension to the throne; an olfactory snapshot of the fingerprint he has left on the House to date (with perhaps with a brief nod to one or two of the greats of yesteryear).

Ne m'Oubliez Pas (Don't Forget Me) has a surprising fruity flight, though not an expected one of citrus and pink pepper... rather, it feels dense and dewy; a splash of the amber/peachy opening of Guet-Apens perhaps? Second, a rising tendril of curried immortelle, laced with spices... a dense thread of cumin and cardamom that echoes the dry wood and allspice of Songe d'Un Bois d'Ete. These notes are steeped in a rosy/fruity damascone plumminess reminiscent of the highly coveted Shiseido great Nombre Noir. (Here, we have a rare, fleeting glimpse through a window into the excessive creations of the 80's). As the parfum dissipates over many hours, we catch flashes of the candied rose in La Petite Robe Noire and Rose Nacrée du Desert and finally trace the drydown back to the amber / patch / vanilla toothiness that is evident in the l'Art et Matière collection.

Whilst on paper this scent may read as something of a Frankenstein's monster, on skin it actually sits in the register of the sublime. I can see no good reason why Ne m'Oubliez Pas will not be as revered and cherished as one of Jacques Guerlain's lesser-known creations. It may never quite be a Shalimar or a Mitsouko, but quite possibly a Fol Arôme, a Coque d'Or or an Atuana.

As one can never truly predict how long a Guerlain scent will be kept in production, I recommend you think about making this your purchase of the year. And whilst it may one day inevitably end up a Bolshoi or a Parisienne, one can never refute the timeless allure and charm of an exquisitely-fringed quadrilobe flacon. 

Get it while you can.

GUERLAIN: Dress Code - the ultimate refashioning of Habit Rouge?

To many, Guerlain reside at the pinnacle of French perfumery where they have been held in high regard for almost two centuries. Within its bountiful history, countless perfumes have come and gone, but Jean Paul Guerlain's masterstroke of 1965 Habit Rouge is something of a perfume pillar Chez Guerlain... arguably their most beloved and revered masculine. Over the years Guerlain have tinkered with it - reprising it in every concentration imaginable, and shuffling components in its pyramid to try and achieve a flanker that can come even close to its legend. In 2015 - the 50th anniversary of Habit Rouge - master parfumeur Thierry Wasser has arguably pulled off the unthinkable... he has refashioned this timeless classic and given it a new lease of life. Habit Rouge Dress Code may very well mark the Mount Everest of flankers... can anything shoot higher than this new edition whose charisma might very well eclipse the original?

I don't think I've been more excited about a flanker, um, ever. Dress Code takes all the aspects I love about the original and amplifies them... it creates an orchestral passage that increases in volume and force, drowning out the annoying white noise (those love/hate nuances) that dogged Jean Paul's creation. Today, Wasser paints from a palette that is partially his predecessor's and partially his own; Jean Paul's comprises vibrant pops of citrus and subtle tints of leather whilst Wasser's is rich with infinite shades of almond and toothy praline. The result... Wasser's considered reorchestration sees Habit Rouge galloping forth and leaping out of the 1960's and right into the here and now. Much like a museum-quality restoration of an old master, Wasser has removed the lacquer that has yellowed with age, exposing a colour spectrum that is infinitely more lively; the contrasts are more pronounced; the fonto more vibrant; the highlights crisper and whiter. Wasser has rendered Habit Rouge more relevant to today; heightening it's already-celebrated status to something stratospheric.

As with years gone by, if it is Guerlain's intention to release a Habit Rouge flanking edition every year, then in the years to come Dress Code will be hard to trump. To my mind - at least - it has achieved everything it could possibly wish to. It stands a head and shoulders above the L'eau's, the Legere's, the Driver editions and the Cavalier presentations. How sad it will be to crowd it and devalue it with countless more revisions, when frankly, Dress Code comes within atoms of pure perfection.

One not to be missed.

Guerlain: Mon Exclusif - looking for a low GI option?

"Mon Exclusif" is the newest perfume release by French perfumers Guerlain... a name which feels as all-encompassing as it does maddeningly vague. It would appear that the LVMH marketing machine behind the brand are cashing in on the concept of "exclusivity for all" with this affordable fragrance that asks you to christen it with your very own title. 

Mon Exclusif comes presented in a clear glass flacon which is a modern rendition of the gilded bow-tie bottle made famous in the 1930s to house "Coque d'Or" and "Dawamesk". With it, Guerlain have provided a sealed packet of adhesive silver letters which you can use to personalise your bottle. This is a nice idea in theory, but in reality, yours truly dislikes the cheapness of the letterforms and indeed their gargantuan size, which frustratingly would make it quite impossible for me to name my dream scent Doppelganger or Onomatopoeia. Aside from this shortcoming, the bottle itself is prettiness personified; its facets outlined in silver to underline further an après-Deco feel.


So how does it smell? Well off the bat, whoever suggested it is a modern, sweeter version of Jicky needs some significant rhinoplasty. Granted, a huff of aromatic lavender in its flight may be a common accord shared between Mon Exclusif and the House's afore-mentioned 126 year old giant, but the similarities distinctly end there. Mon Exclusif is sweet... tooth-achingly sweet. If you have an aversion to the candied purple buzz of Insolence or the fudge-dense chewiness of the L'Art et Matiere offerings, then Mon Exclusif will raise your glucose levels through the roof! Sweet mandarin and zesty bergamot meet the nose, followed by a familiar candied almond accord which one can find in both L'Homme Ideal and LPRN... this is wrapped in lavender sugar and nectar-like solar accords that I sense present perhaps in Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia. Bittersweet iris and clean white musk are combined with a burnt sugar accord, the sum of which act as a fondant poured generously over the whole composition. It is this sticky vanilla/toffee that lingers on skin and in the nose for many hours.

If I'm honest, I can't say I understand Guerlain's fondness for the slew of gourmand creations leaving their factory in abundance of late. Whilst Mon Exclusif is pretty and sure to become a favourite for some, a part of me would certainly give my left gonad to welcome a new mainstream chypre to the Guerlain portfolio... one devoid of a single sugar-dusted almond, nutty praline or saccharine pink berry. 

Mon Exclusif will surely charm perfume laypersons, but I predict that serious perfumisti will be left wanting more than a pretty collectable for their scented treasury.
Available now from Guerlain.fr

Guerlain: Les Colognes, 2015

With the onset of the Northern Spring, Guerlain have released a duo of new flankers based around two mainstays in their vast perfume portfolio: L'Homme Ideal Cologne and Shalimar Cologne.
Traditionally, with cologne referring to the lightest of perfume applications, rather peculiarly, both are in fact eaux de toilettes... they represent Thierry Wasser's interpretation of classic colognes but are presented in a more generous concentration.

In 100 words or less (no mean feat for a rather indulgent and wordy Sorcerer), here is my personal take on them.

L'Homme Ideal Cologne

A fresh, zesty twist on 2014's triumph L'Homme Ideal, the new Cologne version abandons the glorious praline and sweet-tobacco facets of its older sibling and instead infuses the composition with a good dose of grapefruit... its bittersweet citrus tang steers it away from the comforting ombré of sensual autumnal warmth and instead, sets a course for crisp and sheer summer briskness.
From the bottle, the bright pamplemousse flight and green vetiver notes produce a fleeting cypressy vibe, which lends a sense of Mediterranean sun. The signature heart of almond and neroli shares a welcome, familiar footprint with its wonderful older brother.

Shalimar Cologne

Lovers of the highly-venerated (long discontinued) Shalimar flanker "Eau Légere" rejoice! This newest take on the world's first Oriental perfume, Shalimar is an exceptional rendering which runs somewhat parallel to Mathilde Laurent's limited edition creation of 2003. Thierry Wasser has infused Shalimar Cologne with an effervescent burst of lemon/bergamot and grapefruit and a scattering of rose, jasmine and freesia. A sensual trail of clean musk, iris and vanilla make for a tender caress on skin which - despite it's fresh and modern charms - remains distinctly Shalimar.

An updated and gratifying release which doesn't claim to steal its famous Grandmother's thunder.

L'Homme Ideal Cologne and Shalimar Cologne are both currently available on the Guerlain website and in select travel retail outlets, and will be rolling out to other Guerlain doors imminently.

QUICKIE REVIEWS: Guerlain: Teazzura, LPRN Ma Robe Petales, Le Plus Beau Jour de ma Vie

Whilst many are still nursing a Christmas hangover, Guerlain are already straight out of the gates with three brand new releases for Jan/Feb 2015! One by one, Maison Guerlain have sounded off with a new creation in three of their existing product avenues: the Aqua Allegorias, the principal parfums, and the parfums d'exception collections.

Teazzura (Aqua Allegoria)

Much as the name might suggest, Teazzura is an invigorating 'eau' that feels brisk, inviting and infinitely blue... perhaps an olfactory moment of pause beside a cerulean pool which is overlooking the sweeping Santorini caldera. Bristling lemon/bergamot bring a sense of Guerlain's 'signature' flight before a ripple of dry aromatic chamomile lends a husky, hay-like warmth to the mix. Fresh green-tipped leaves of tea counterbalance the citrus with a sedatory, calming effect and lend a sense of weightlessness and transparency. All this is awash over a considered base of white musk and calone, which together, suggest unspoiled waters lapping against the white-sand shores of a far-flung isle.
Teazzura is a lovely citrus / aromatic scent with an arresting aquatic slant... a sense of shimmering summer-blue found whilst holidaying at the equator.

La Petite Robe Noire - Ma Robe Pétales

Arguably Guerlain's most successful cash-cow in recent years, the LPRN collection never fails to enchant with its collectable editions rendered with a mere stroke of a brush. Ma Robe Pétales is the latest addition to the line which surprisingly side-steps the somewhat expected lip-smacking cherry-soaked red-berry signature of its elders and instead, takes a fanciful pirhouette across newly-introduced facets of mandarin, freesia and pistachio. This makes for quite a leap away from the LPRN that we are accustomed to, and towards something more spritely and fresh. There are occasional huffs of spring/summertime florals like rose, neroli and jasmine; but also a feeling of lantana (a very fragrant but poisonous flower that grows abundantly along footpaths - although this note is not actually listed). These lend a vivaciousness and lightness that is a welcome change from the existing LPRN olfactory benchmark. However, before you start to think it is sounding too far removed from the original, there is a familiar and endearing tonka / patchouli trail that is common to them both.

La Petite Robe Noire Ma Robe Petales will undoubtedly sell hand over fist... if not for its collectibility (and its potential brevity as a Guerlain flanker), but also for its perfume. A very solid and enchanting release.

La Plus Beau Jour de Ma Vie - (eau de parfum)

"Le Bouquet de la Mariée" is a brand new parfum extrait launched this month, presented in a 125ml quadrilobe flacon which represents the house's first commercial bridal perfume in over a century. The 60ml eau de parfum version - christened "The Most Beautiful Day of my Life" (above) - is prettiness personified with its monogrammed flacon and puffer... everything a bride could wish for! A delicate composition comprising opening notes of citrus, angelica and pink pepper, there is instantly a feeling of 'nude'... cashmere soft skin tones with perhaps a flush of timidness on the cheeks. A candied almond note not only lends a sense of celebratory tradition, but also a toothsome deliciousness, whilst pretty pink and white florals peer from beneath a veil of mouthwatering vanilla. The composition is underpinned by notes of white musks and patchouli: the perfect foundation upon which all others rest. 

This perfume's appeal extends well beyond potential brides-to-be, so it's billing as a wedding perfume can be no more than a marketing angle. With a similar structure and DNA, La Plus Beau Jour de Ma Vie could quite as easily take up place amongst her siblings in the L'Art et la Matière collection. One to be cherished, just as one should their partner.

QUICKIE REVIEWS: Guerlain: French Kiss & Santal Royal

New to the Guerlain "Les Elixirs Charnels" lineup in 2014 is the super-sexy French Kiss. Quintessentially French and quintessentially Guerlain, 'French Kiss' is a mouth-watering délice created by the hand of Thierry Wasser that typifies the series' fondness for confection-like sweetness.

French Kiss opens with an ambosial flight... jammy, pulpy raspberries meet the nose beneath an initial sparkle of citrus. The berries are deep red in hue, and their olfactory profile borders on that of sour cherry. An enchanting blend of violet and orris lend a faint lipstick vibe (no surprise really, given the scent was created to commemorate the 20th Anniversary of Guerlain's Kiss Kiss lipstick line). These accords also lend a sense of powdery dryness, which calls to mind a baked meringue dusted with confectioner's sugar... fluffy and chewy on the inside, and chalky and brittle on the outside. A caramel-brown ribbon of heliotrope and vanilla add a creamy sweetness to the trail - the effect something like a ganache or melted French vanilla ice-cream.

A Fruity Floral with strong gourmand characteristics, French Kiss veers away from the pedestrian and feels very much the sequential successor in the Elixirs Charnels series. On paper, it may appear to have certain nuances plucked from the mega-successful commercial release La Petite Robe Noire, but the quality here speaks for itself. And lets face it, who here doesn't find glacé desserts and candied trappings kind of sexy?

* * * * *

This year Guerlain introduce a new scent intended for the Middle Eastern market; Santal Royal. With exclusivity limited to the new Salon de Parfums at Harrods in London (for the time being), Santal Royal is an ode to one of perfumery's highly regarded ingredients; sandalwood.

Presented in a handsome black glass flacon normally usually reserved for the "Les Eaux de Rituels" collection, and with a label design appended from early Shalimar powder boxes, Santal Royal cuts a striking new figure, whilst still acknowledging the House's prodigious heritage.

Santal Royal surprises with its opening which features (quite obviously) sandalwood, but if in these fleeting opening moments one can avoid being seduced by the darker, woodier aspects of the fragrance, the flight has something of a signature Guerlain treatment: wafts of bergamot and lavender tippy-toe over an aromatic slant of geranium and coriander. These nuances keep the scent uplifting and bright before - mere moments later -  richer, more complex notes emerge. Cinnamon and clove-like spices give rise to a thicker core of florals... rose, ylang-ylang and jasmine seem tickle my receptors. They are imbued with an off-the-rack oud accord (which, if I'm to be honest, I've smelled before in Armani's Cuir Noir and Puredistance Black), but it's earthiness does work well against the precious santal. A biting tartness is also present, suggestive of tanned leather, but it only makes its presence felt from time to time. A warmer foundation of amber, tonka and musks steer the scent back to a more familiar 'Guerlain' stable, before the fragrance vanishes from skin altogether a generous 8 -10 hours later.

I wonder if Santal Royal is just a one-off, or if it might lend itself to an Aqua Allegoria-type series for the middle east? If indeed the latter, I dearly look forward to what might come next.

GUERLAIN CHRONICLES Part III - "An Afternoon in the Laboratory with Thierry Wasser".

It is a Monday afternoon, and Paris is unusually still. As Frédéric parks the blue beetle near the offices of Christian Dior on the rue de Teheran, there is barely a soul to be seen. I question him as to why it seems abnormally quiet. 

"It is week 33", he responds. 

It hadn't occurred to me, when Mrs Sorcery of Scent and I were planning our vacation, that week 33 - the middle week of August - is a common time for Parisians to vacate the bustle of the city and enjoy an excursion of their own. 

"My colleagues are all on holiday, so there will be no-one inside", Frédéric adds, as we walk from the car. "Oh, maybe Thierry will be… I don't know". 

My stomach instantly fires with nervousness and the look on my face makes Frédéric laugh. With a swipe of his access card, the three of us enter the ground floor lobby of the building and cross the marbled hall toward a row of digital turnstyles. Fred acknowledges a blonde receptionist sitting behind a large marble desk branded with the word "Dior", and legitimises our presence as his guests. She smiles at him and waves us through politely. 

We take the lift to the sixth floor and as the doors roll open, Fred calls out down the empty corridor. 

"Boss, are you here?!"

"Yes!" comes the response from a room unseen.

Fred looks at me and smiles broadly. 

"Thierry is here", he says, relishing the terror-stricken change in my expression. He giggles impishly; his brown eyes are sparkling. My wife squeezes my hand. I am panicking inside.

I'm about to meet my idol.

* * * * *

As two separate entities under the LVMH umbrella, both Christian Dior and Guerlain share the same premises. The walls from foyer to rooftop are decorated with framed advertisements, hand-painted artworks and vitrines decorated with rare and coveted flacons iconic to both brands. But whilst part of the same consortium, it feels as though there's a clear partition between the two. I ponder for a moment how this setup works in a practical sense… I visualise two old housemates living in a share situation, striving to get on… each declaring a particular armchair in the den as their own, and stickering food in the pantry with their own name. Housemates they may be, but security is rigid and competition between the pair is visible.

* * * * *

My wife and I follow Frédéric to an end office and stand just outside the open door. I peer around the corner and see Master Perfumer Thierry Wasser and Fred greet one another. Thierry's desk is blanketed with sample vials and labelled mouilettes that have been pinned into finger-like fans. They wave at me hello. Thierry turns to us. He is wearing a monogrammed white lab coat, and he snatches his spectacles from his nose with one hand as he extends the other. His smile is broad and engaging. 

"Its a pleasure to meet you both", he announces… Mrs Sorcery of Scent and I are taken by his sincerity. Thierry's accent dances between French and American. "So I hear you are from Perth, Western Australia?". 

We respond affirmatively, and Thierry mentions the sustainable plantations of Santalum album growing in the tropical north region of Western Australia, and in the same breath, his experiences with Boronia oil - a product native to our state. We are impressed and delighted at his knowledge of the raw materials in the region.

We talk for a few moments, and Thierry asks if Fred will be showing us the Guerlain laboratory. Fred responds in French, and Thierry tells us "Go right ahead, I'll follow you in a moment". 

As we are led down another hallway, my wife and I speak in glances. "He's coming with us?!" I ask her telepathically. 

"I think so", she responds, without moving a muscle. 

Our inner conversation is intercepted by Frédéric. He smiles and responds as if he had overheard our mental discussion. "So Thierry will spend some time with us. What an honour", he says, as we slip through a pair of glass sliding doors. 

"An honour indeed", I reply.

* * * * *

Frédéric's work space is in a large room, sectioned into four distinct work stations. Horizontal glass shelves hold hundreds of essence bottles - mostly for show - and the back wall is lined with labelled amber glass flacons. 

"Here is where I work", Fred announces with a sweep of his hand. 

A large bench extends around 3 sides of his station with refrigerators and cupboards below. Several expensive weighing instruments are visible, and a rotating tiered carousel of Guerlain bottles catches my eye. The space is neat, clinical and largely unembellished. Two very large, very conspicuous pin-back buttons are displayed on Fred's desk, both depicting Thierry Wasser, presumably visiting Guerlain's suppliers of raw materials. Thierry's comical expressions make me laugh.

 "What are these?", I ask.

"This is Thierry on location. This year, I wore this one to the Olfactorama awards ceremony of Le Prix du Patrimoine Olfactif when Mitsouko was honoured for its beauty", he responds. I laugh, because each of the buttons are easily the size of a lunch plate, and I can visualise it pinned to Fred's lapel.

Thierry walks into the lab and perches himself on a bench, his legs swinging over the edge like a marionette. I see miniature versions of Fred's buttons pinned to his lab coat that I hadn't noticed before. A man with a sense of humour, I reason.

We strike up a conversation about Guerlain and the work he and Frédéric are doing to preserve the House's legacy.

"I am in an extraordinary position", he says. "I have a very good relationship with this guy…". Thierry gestures towards a large artistic illustration of Jean-Paul hanging on the wall. 

"He is very dear to me, and he is the direct bridge between today and the 1800's. His knowledge, experience and advice is incalculable".

We discuss the Guerlain timeline, and how the decades have impacted upon the classics, such as Shalimar, Jicky and Mitsouko. Thierry affirms that seasonal variation and restriction of materials have all played a part, but also declares that the production of several perfume bases used in a handful of Guerlain creations - once sourced from companies such as Givaudan - were simply stopped cold. 

"This is why, for instance, we do not have certain perfumes anymore, or perfumes in certain concentrations... Parure, for example". 

We discuss sourcing raw materials. "This is like a full time job", he says with a smile. "The importance of partnerships is paramount… the relationships we have with our suppliers and the transparency of sharing our knowledge". 

Thierry goes on to illustrate his point. "Guerlain has several suppliers for Vetiver, for example. When we are working with remote communities in these regions, we share our knowledge so that both we and they will benefit. What we have learned, for instance, is that soil that has grown vetiver has a higher yield when replanted with corn and certain other produce. In some of these communities, it is therefore in their best interests to plant vetiver - which we can use - so that the soil is richer for their future harvests. This type of knowledge comes through years of trial and error, and from this guy", he says, pointing to Jean-Paul once more. 

Frédéric is quick to hand each of us several mouillettes soaked in vetiver oils sourced from India, Haiti and Indonesia. The olfactory profiles are profoundly different. A silence falls over the laboratory as we all sniff and contemplate. 

Thierry explains the importance of sourcing ingredients of the highest quality. He asks Fred to prepare two blotters for each of us, soaked in lavender. "One is lavande, and the other lavandin", he says. We sniff the mouillettes and the dissimilarity is obvious. 

"Lavande is so French, that when you uncork the bottle, it speaks with a French accent", Thierry says, thickening his French pronunciation so that the light American twang is gone. 

"Lavandin is a hybrid, and is used by rival companies and passed off as lavender". 

We agree that the lavandin smells resolutely camphorous. 

"How can this not have an effect on the end result?", he asks. "Guerlain uses lavande", he says, before screwing the lid tightly on the aluminium canister. 

To further illustrate the contrasts between regional raw materials, Fred produces three more cards soaked with oils. Thierry continues. "These are the same variety of rose… one produced in Iran, one in Turkey, and one in Bulgaria". 

We sniff, and I instantly recognise the Bulgarian variety used in Guerlain's Idylle and La Petite Robe Noire. We are enchanted by the contrasts. 

The room is heavy with contemplation and Thierry breaks the silence by asking if we smoke. We decline, but follow him and Fred to a narrow balcony overlooking a central courtyard. The balustrade is lined with potted citrus plants which act as a screen. Thierry tells us a story about a man who was arrested attempting to climb over the rooftop and into the courtyard a while ago. "But this place is more secure than Fort Knox", he declares, and I'm sure he isn't kidding. 

From this vantage point, we peer down several stories and see two Dior employees sitting at a table, reviewing product artwork. 

"Oh, lets see what Dior's new makeup line will look like!" Thierry whispers playfully. We all laugh aloud, and then conspicuously avert our eyes. Thierry points to a small row of potted plants against the wall by the door. 

"I'm furious!" he says, looking at Fred in disbelief. "In these pots I am trying to grow sandalwood… the other day the gardener yanked out my one-and-only Mysore seedling, thinking it was a weed!" 

My wife and I lean over the pots to inspect the plants closely. 

"Touch those leaves", Thierry says, pointing to a low bushel of Mimosa pudica. We caress the plant with the tip of our finger and gasp as its leaves shrink away from our touch. Thierry and Fred enjoy our reaction. For a moment I reflect upon what a unique and unexpected experience we have been blessed with… larking at the Guerlain laboratory, like two kids in a candy shop. 

With cigarette break over, we return to the lab.

We are asked if there are any specific materials we would like to sniff, and I respond immediately. "Ambergris".

"Ah! Whale puke!" Thierry says, with a laugh. Fred produces a tincture for us to sniff as Thierry reaches for his smartphone. He pulls up a photo of a lump of ambergris sitting on a scale, and informs us it is a piece Guerlain secured some time ago. The digital display in the picture reads well over 3 kilograms. Thierry disappears momentarily and returns with a screwtop plastic container holding several tomato-sized lumps of the real thing. Mrs Sorcery of Scent and I take one in our hands. It is more porous than I'd imagined, and it feels semi-firm… I squeeze it and liken its tension to that of a squash ball. I hold it to my nose and it smells oceanic, balsamic and slightly sweet. Meanwhile, Frédéric has materialised several more containers: one holding deer musk pods, and one, castoreum pods. We find the furry musk pods are odourless, and Thierry explains they first must be split to retrieve the fragrant grains inside. The castoreum is pungent and leathery. We replace the cap tightly, and Fred proffers us a small lidded container. 

"Civet paste" he says, and he and Thierry exchange knowing looks. 

A deft interpreter of glances too, I surmise that we are about to be served our final exam at the School of Raw Materials. We sniff and my wife recoils immediately. The gentlemen laugh. I linger for a while and take in its odour. 

"I smell Jicky!" I proclaim, and the pair grin. Fred retrieves a pair of aluminium canisters from a refrigerator and dips a fresh mouillette into each of them. 

"Voilà, castoreum and civet", he says. I sniff them and recognise them from what I'd just smelled.

"Are these tinctures?", I ask. The pair exchange glances again. 

"Non. These are our reconstructed civet and castoreum", Thierry reveals. "These are the culmination of 2-3 years work for us. We strive to be as faithful as we can to the raw ingredient… we take it very seriously".

I am astonished that I am smelling a blend of synthetic molecules, and struggle to reach for a divergence from the real components. 

"This is amazing!" I declare, and Mrs Sorcery of Scent agrees. In this very moment, I grasp the efforts Wasser and Sacone have gone to, to preserve the Guerlain legacy… one solitary and singular component at a time. Their recent efforts in re-tracing the Guerlain timeline by recreating known and lost Guerlain perfumes from the 1800s up until the 1950s (precisely as the original formulas dictate) has given them a true insight into the Guerlain DNA. Moving forward, I can't help but feel the heritage of the House is secure.

My wife mentions her love of iris, and Fred presents orris butter for us to sniff before the words even leave her mouth. "Apres l'Ondee and L'Heure Bleue!", I sigh, and Thierry acknowledges my conclusions. Again, I am taken by the quality of the ingredients and how they translate directly into the perfumes.

The conversation shifts to the different international markets, and Thierry takes some moments to describe where Guerlain are focusing their efforts. 

"Guerlain is infinitely French, but of course there are other areas we would like to penetrate". 

I mention Australia (of course), Russia, China and the Middle East over the course of the conversation, but Thierry doesn't give too much away… just a whisper of something over the horizon in the United Arab Emirates.

Conscious that we have consumed almost 2 and a half hours of Theirry's time, we begin  to wrap things up, but not before mentioning the new launch of L'Homme Ideal, and the success of La Petite Robe Noire. I ask how he feels about working with both the old and the new. 

"Today, we are sitting on 2 chairs - the heritage chair, and the new chair - and both feel somewhat uncomfortable", he confesses. "Whilst we have an obligation to lovers of our classic perfumes, we have also to recognise that we must do things very differently today. Marketing, of course, plays a big part in what we do. No matter what, we must always answer to LVMH". 

I find Thierry's response both sincere and somewhat reassuring. I have seen first hand the efforts he and Fred are going to in order to maintain the House's tradition, whilst at the same time, one cannot deny the success of scents like La Petite Robe Noire as a product of the money-backed marketing engine of LVMH. To my mind, there is a place in 2014 (and beyond) for both.

With time no longer on our side, we slowly leave the laboratory and retreat to the hallway again. We admire exquisite Guerlain pieces from Frédéric's personal collection that have been locked away in glass vitrines before returning to Thierry's office where we exchange our reluctant goodbyes. Our enduring impression of him is of a man who is charming, articulate, intelligent and commanding… with a devilish sense of humour to boot. As we take the lift back to the lobby and wave goodbye to the patient blonde receptionist, I reflect upon the experience. Frédéric and Thierry have demonstrated how they strive to uphold the Guerlain legacy, whilst submitting to the ebb and flow of a new age. 

To all my readers; to the perfumisti, the bloggers, the skeptics and the Guerlainophiles, I can sincerely state - hand over heart - that Wasser and Sacone live and breathe this brand. Their endeavours not only serve to honour Guerlain's illustrious past, but to shift with the times as modern civilisation evolves. 

Maison Guerlain could not be in better hands. Period.

GUERLAIN CHRONICLES Part II - Maison Guerlain - A Paradigm in Retail Exactitude.

Our host, Junior Perfumer at Guerlain Frédéric Sacone has an important appointment in the capital and has left us to explore. It is a warm afternoon, and the Champs-Elysées is teeming with tourists. Every few meters a shiny new coach pulls up, belching visitors from the Far East onto it's cobbled walkways. My wife and I lose one another in the throng for a moment, but find each other again and knit our fingers together securely. We zig-zag through the masses with an urgency usually reserved for impending restroom breaks, but today we walk with a different purpose. Our growing frustration with the slow, shuffling crowds is dissolved only by the sight of Guerlain approaching at number 68. I draw my breath in sharply, and my wife lets out a sigh. "There it is", we chime simultaneously, as if rehearsed. Our steps quicken, and we suddenly begin to feel self-conscious, like two kids chasing an ice-cream truck. We slow our pace and take in the spectacular facade. "Wow!" we exclaim, lingering in front of the boutique entrance. We take out our camera and capture a few frames... passing pedestrians from all points on the globe stare at us blankly and glance through its doors before continuing on their way. How could they know what this truly means to us? To be standing on the doorstep of Maison Guerlain. At last.

* * * * *

Guerlain have been trading at No. 68 Champs Elysées for precisely 100 years. In 1914 - four years after the passing of Aimée Guerlain - the flagship store shifted from its previous habitation on the rue de la Paix to the current high street address on the world-famous bustling boulevard. The building itself, constructed in exquisite Art Nouveau style, has retained its splendour since, but its interior has seen incremental changes over the decades. In 2005 the space received perhaps its most significant facelift - a massive undertaking realised by French design dignitary Andrée Putman and architect Maxime d'Angeac. The interior of the site is heritage listed, so the modernization proved incredibly challenging: Putman and d'Angeac needed to assimilate and execute changes that subsumed a strong sense of tradition. More recently however, Interior Designer Hall of Fame recipient Peter Marino has woven more magic into the intricate tapestry of the House. In 2013 Guerlain unveiled an entirely reinvented space - one which not only honours historical convention, but also exhibits an appreciation for original materials; crystal, marble, mirrors and marquetry. Simply said, Marino's manifestation has resulted in one of the most extravagant and palatial retail environments the world has ever seen.

* * * * *

The ground floor foyer is exquisitely fitted in rich red / green / amber panels of marble. Mrs Sorcery of Scent and I are greeted warmly by a swan-necked mademoiselle who strikes a stunning silhouette in black. A gruff security guard with microphone in his ear stands to one side, but his gravity is broken when he too shoots us a smile. We take in the opulent space for a few moments, stopping to sneak a photo of a trio of exquisite 1.5 litre Shalimar presentations standing on a counter that have been decorated with jewels. I quickly review the stolen frames I've taken with my smartphone. "You may feel free to photograph as you please, Monsieur", Mademoiselle whispers with a wink. We are relieved, and I retrieve my Nikon DSLR from my bag. We ascend the wrought iron / marble staircase to the first floor and gasp as we enter a shimmering corridor... the glinting hall of mirrors whose rippled, reflective panes hide a wealth of Guerlain artefacts from centuries past. We study the inset shadowboxes carefully, ooh'ing and aah'ing at the vintage flacons. 

Today, we are practically alone on the first floor - the space made famous in 1939 when Guerlain opened one of the world's first spas... a beauty institute that has endured to this day. From the central hall of mirrors, several rooms fan out, and we follow the obvious path toward an incredible central perfume organ that sparkles under the recessed halogens. We walk around it, examining bottles resting in its 'branches'... it's sculptural form renders us almost too timid to touch them, for fear of spoiling its symmetry. The walls are lined with marquetry and modestly-lit shelves hold enchanting bee bottles, many embellished with handsome neck-ties and delightful 'poivre' puffers. The central organ area opens into a spacious room with modest furniture and wood panelled walls. This is the Sur-Mesure consultation room where one can have their very own perfume composed - by appointment of course. The bespoke perfume service at No.68 is a lengthy process - one that any perfumisto would relish - taking approximately one year to have one's very own signature scent composed by Master Parfumeur Thierry Wasser. Two backlit walls are lined with large bee bottles, and the final prize - a leather coffret comprising 24 baccarat crystal quadrilobe flacons filled with your very own preparation - is displayed for one to pore over. My wife and I examine it with a slight pang of envy. 

We cross the hall of mirrors once more, and venture into the other adjoining rooms... one a beautiful showroom with exquisite Guerlain silk carré, perfumed fans and scented gloves for purchase. I see Mrs Sorcery of Scent lingering a long while over a pair of short La Petite Robe Noire mitts made of the finest buttery black leather, and I suddenly recognise "that look" in her eyes. We stroll through to the blanched lavishness of the Orchidée Imperiale Salon and cosmetics rooms where age-defying products and enchanting limited edition powder boxes are on display under perspex covers. It suddenly strikes us that not once have we been approached by a sales representative... we have of course seen them, but they keep a very low profile, allowing us instead to peruse the rooms and products at our leisure. The moment I look for a consultant, she materialises as if from the ether, almost as though she has heard me summon her by telepathy. "Bonjour Madame, Monsieur", she says, her eyes the colour of aquamarines. We enquire about a product, and she educates us passionately. "Where are you from?", she asks enthusiastically.

"From Australia", I respond. "You can't imagine what this visit means to us. We have travelled a long way to be here". I explain our love of the brand, its perfume and its history. Mademoiselle beams. She casts a quick look over each shoulder and whispers "Follow me!" Mrs Sorcery of Scent and I look at one another for a moment and chase after her... she is walking briskly through the rooms and brings us to a concealed door in a marble wall that we hadn't noticed before. Mademoiselle cranes her neck to see if anyone is watching, and then turns to us.

"I want to show you a very special place. You are passionate about Guerlain and have come across the world. We never show anyone this room... it is a secret. But I think you are deserving". With that she lifts a finger to her lips and mouths "shhhhhhhh". She opens the door and enters, beckoning us to hurry inside. We do not wait for a second invitation and scamper across the threshold. Our pupils take a moment to adjust... the well-lit salons are now behind us. 

We are standing in a room that has been decorated in a light taupe marble. A sofa and handful of plush occasional chairs create a conversation area at the center of the room... they are upholstered in a complementary hue. Broad windows run along one side of the room, and potted plants bring a stroke of green to the hushed ecru palette.

"This is a very special space", Mademoiselle announces. "It is the original office of Jacques Guerlain and later, Jean-Paul Guerlain. Here they would sit for many hours, writing the formulae for the Guerlain classics... Mitsouko, Shalimar, Chamade and others. Here exists their original writing desk". She points to a beautiful antique French desk in ebony, and for a millisecond, I see their ghosts sitting there. My wife and I suck in the air and instantly feel the weight of the room around us. The three of us stand motionless for just a few seconds, as if observing a moment's silence. My eyes take in as much as they can, fearful that the image will one day soon leave my memory. Just as I think to reach for my camera, Mademoiselle opens the door beside us - a rectangle of white light penetrates the solitude of the space, and I recognise it is time to leave. We scurry outside and return to the enlivening white of the halogens. We thank Mademoiselle profusely, and she shoots us a wink - the long lashes around her aquamarine eyes flutter like ostrich-feathers. They are carefully painted with mascara. Guerlain, no doubt.

* * * * *

It is difficult to pinpoint what it is that makes a retail space successful. My family come from a very strong retail background, and I too have worked in high-end retail for many years, but there is no single theory or strategy that will trigger a customer's decision to buy. Rather, its a profusion of factors that will influence one to loosen their purse strings. One can recognise that sensible fittings, intelligent lighting and ease of access each play a role in providing a relaxing environment in which to shop, and one can argue that repetition, colour and symmetry are all key to merchandising, but for me, I personally need to make an emotional connection with the object in question. I enjoy retail environments where focus is put on the product - not necessarily one where a sense of 'fullness' prevails. Maison Guerlain - to my mind - is exemplary. The salons, whilst infinitely luxurious, are not 'busy'... much consideration has been given to each space and where the eye should fall. In this regard, there is a silent and reassuring sense of French ease and straightforwardness here. Despite the opulent materials used in the renovations, one does not find any of it competing with the product - instead, product is highlighted by the negative space that surrounds it. Maison Guerlain's high ceilings, broad corridors and wide tables demand it. Marino's transformation has ticked all the right boxes, exhibiting a keen regard for spacial awareness, materials and scale. This author simply cannot find fault with it. Anywhere.

* * * * *

We return to the ground floor, walk through the marbled foyer, and into the renovated cosmetics hall that until recent years, was simply a pop-up shop situated beside the main boutique. It is lined with putty/white coloured marble, and a broad, striped marble staircase winds down and out of sight. Below, the new restaurant "Le 68" with its sweet indulgences, and a souvenir shop. But for us, those pleasures will have to wait for a future visit.

The cosmetics area - in stark contrast to the rooms on the first floor - is bustling with visitors. We analyse the products on display and admire the renovation's fanciful mirrored surfaces and crystal-studded wall art. At the cash desk, my wife and I inform Mademoiselle of our intended purchases, and she disappears behind a sparkling gold wall to ready them for our journey back to Australia. Upon presentation of our passport for the EU Tax Back program, the young ladies at the counter are in raptures. "It is so cute! Every page has a different animal printed on it! Look! A kangaroo... a koala... and a, um... what IS that??" 

"A Tasmanian Devil", I respond with a laugh. We are fully engaged in conversation with these women when Mademoiselle returns with a beautifully ribboned bag. Their warmth and interest has been genuine, and we are sorry to be leaving.

"We are sorry to see you go too! Please return again soon!" they chime, and I feel they are sincere.

As we make for the exit of the hallowed boutique on the boulevard, Mrs Sorcery of Scent and I take one last look around us. We step around the group of ladies chattering excitedly at the La Petit Robe Noire installation; pass a man and woman talking intimately over a shared scented mouillette, and pause for a moment so that a tourist might take a clear photo of the impressive marble stair. Suddenly, we can see past the spectacular renovations and recognise a space that - irrespective of how it looks today or how it might look tomorrow - has always been (and always will be) a shopping destination for perfumisti the world over. And in my eyes, there can never be one as important.

NEXT WEEK: GUERLAIN CHRONICLES Part III - "An Afternoon in the Laboratory with Thierry Wasser".

*Photos are the author's own, and also taken from Interior Design webzine, and the official Guerlain website.

GUERLAIN CHRONICLES PART I: "Who the **** is Frédéric Sacone?!"

It is the second week in August when our plane touches down in Paris. Of course, it is pouring with rain. There had been unnerving turbulence on the 2 hour jaunt from Bratislava, and my nerves are shot; my stomach a writhing pit of serpents. For this fellow - whose fear of flying often gets the better of him - the feeling of terra firma underfoot as we briskly cross the tarmac to reach the main building, is nothing short of a blessing. My wife and I push through the passengers at the baggage carousel, skim past customs and exit the arrivals area. Frédéric Sacone, Junior Parfumeur (and assistant to Guerlain master perfumer, Thierry Wasser) is there to meet us. He snakes through the crowd and greets us warmly before his eyes drop to the bulky case I'm wheeling. I can see a crease forming in his brow. We have never met, and a few awkward moments of silence hang in the air before we make our way through the rain to his car. "Zees way", he says with a spectacular French accent, ushering us toward a parked navy blue Beetle convertible.
"Oh!" I exclaim, measuring the size of my case to the size of his trunk with my eyes. The same wrinkle I'd seen on Fred's brow earlier, I could now feel criss-crossing my forehead. But in the deluge the three of us work fast to stow it in the back seat, with a few grunts and laughs. As we pull out of the car park, the car windows have fogged as a result of both our physical exertion and the rain in our clothes. With wind-screen wipers thrashing to and fro, Frédéric navigates the spiralling roads and roundabouts around the airport and I begin to feel giddy again. We curse the European summer and laugh as we enter the freeway and make our way towards his home in Picardy. We chatter all the way.
The ice had been broken.

It has stopped raining and the sun is struggling to press through the clouds. As we turn off the main freeway, the blue beetle trundles down small streets that are lined with stone cottages. Mrs Sorcery of Scent and I revel in the French-ness of it all. We pull away from the main road and enter the emerald grounds of a 16th century chateau. It looks charming and majestic. A sweeping driveway which is partly flanked on both sides by leafy trees takes us to a gated side entrance that opens onto Fred's garden. I notice it is teeming with flowers which, after the storm, release their pretty perfume on the air. His home - a two-storied section of the mansion - backs on to a dense forest. For a moment, as we exit the car and reach for our luggage, my eyes are lost in its green. Frédéric's two long-haired felines - one with eyes of amber and the other of sapphire blue - welcome us with a rub across the legs and a friendly mew. My wife and I find it hard to contain our appreciation of Fred's home which has been decorated spectacularly with furniture and objects from his travels. Our guest room is revealed through floor-to-ceiling glass-paned doors, and Fred insists we make ourselves at home. Around us, the heart-hammering perfume of all things Guerlain... the scent of Eau de Cashmere hangs above the bed, and unseen pockets of perfume suddenly reveal themselves as we pass Guerlain candles resting on side tables and windowsills. Two exquisitely-wrapped gifts lie at the foot of the bed, swathed in a familiar crimson ribbon. I pinch myself, astonished that this man would open his home to two strangers with seemingly few things in common - except of course - for our love of Guerlain.

* * * * *

Frédéric Sacone - the youngest of three brothers - grew up in the Montparnasse district of Paris. A  happy child, albeit somewhat withdrawn, Frédéric nurtured a love of animals and plants, and was intrigued by the healing properties of aromatherapy. As a young adult, this urged him to take on studies in Pharmacy and Biology so that he could learn how aromatherapy functioned on a cellular level. Finally as a new graduate, in 1993 his studies into biochemistry opened the door at Takasago, an international corporation that develops flavours, fragrance and aromachemicals. There, he spent over 8 years as a laboratory sample coordinator and perfumer's assistant... time spent arming him with the experience and practical know-how that would see him transition to the global giant Firmenich in October of 2001. There, he worked just a few months before he met someone within the organisation who would impact upon the course of his career forever: Parfumeur Thierry Wasser. By January 2002, Frédéric had become Wasser's assistant, and the pair struck a special working relationship that has endured to this day. In October 2008, when Wasser was invited to leave Firmenich to step into the shoes of iconic nose Jean-Paul Guerlain, Wasser insisted Frédéric join him.
Fred didn't have to think twice.

Frédéric possesses an artistic soul. Had he not pursued a career in perfume, he acknowledges he would have become a painter, sculptor or pianist. He studied piano for seven years at the conservatory in Paris, and if he weren't able to channel his creativity through fragrance, he would have certainly taken up studies in the visual arts. In his down time, he enjoys painting, baroque music, and films by Woody Allen, Pedro Almodovar and Jacques Tati. He also has a keen interest in the religious literature of the great philosophers Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Confucius, and as a result, he relishes the opportunity to travel and experience other cultures. He holds a special place in his heart for India, which he has visited 8 times since the mid 90's. Fred's travels have taken him to far-flung landscapes such as Morocco, Madagascar, Vietnam and Indonesia.
"Travel stimulates my olfactory creativity", he affirms. "But more important than beautiful postcards of these places, are the people there who've touched me the most".

When one comes to know Frédéric as a person, one has a greater understanding of how he approaches his work: with integrity, passion, exactness and love.

* * * * *

In the days following, Fred proves himself to be the most exemplary host. My wife and I sit at his kitchen table with perfumed mouillettes under our nose whilst he bakes a fresh mango / coconut tarte tatin and we discuss which smells more exquisite. We drink plenty of wine, sample delicious regional cheeses, and carefully dissect tasty salad dressings he has made which dance on our palate. We take the blue beetle to Paris and enjoy her sights with the top rolled down... tearing around the Arc de Triomphe with the wind in our hair (much to the envy of the Japanese tourists caged in their coaches). Fred ensures our tummies are filled with enormous cocktails and traditional French cuisine from hole-in-the-wall bistros known best for their food and not for their decor. We are shown jaw-dropping castles in Chantilly, visit quaint antique stores in Pierrefond, and are chaperoned through dense jade-coloured forests whose odours simply enchant us. My wife and I feel humbled and spoiled silly. But before we leave Paris, there are two more very important stops to be made on this trip to the French capital... one of course being the newly renovated Maison Guerlain on the Champs-Élysées; and the second, a very special visit to the Guerlain laboratories to meet with Thierry Wasser.  
(These experiences will be detailed in parts 2 and 3 of this Sorcery of Scent series).

* * * * *

If the truth be told, Frédéric's name was virtually unheard of until earlier this year when Thierry Wasser decided to retrace the steps of Aimée and Jacques Guerlain by reprising a series of vintage perfumes that are now featured exclusively at their flagship store in Paris. Wasser and Sacone spent many hours leafing through the antique texts, resurrecting old formulas so that we, the public, might peer through a small window at 'the golden age' of Guerlain. Their tireless efforts have resulted in the recreation of 27 scents to date, each of which appear precisely as they would have up to 134 years ago.

If asked "Who the *** is Frédéric Sacone?", I have the honour and privilege to respond:

"My friend. A man whose loyalty to his boss and mentor is unwavering, and whose efforts in his role as Junior Parfumeur and support to Wasser at Guerlain are nurturing faithfulness, beauty and luxury for the brand".

A figure who would likely rather avoid the spotlight than step into it, Fred is as humble as one can imagine. 
"Scent creates an emotion. For me, it's not the perfume but the people who smell and enjoy our creations that move me the most."



NEXT WEEK: GUERLAIN CHRONICLES Part II - "Maison Guerlain - A Paradigm in Retail Exactitude".