Dear Gentlemen Readers: How many of you employ a mouchoir* during the course of a customary day? Are your mouchoirs made of fine Egyptian cotton? Linen? Silk? If you espy a lady, or gentleman, on the verge of collapse, overheated or overwhelmed, about to cry…do you rush to proffer your mouchoir? Is said mouchoir scented? Please advise your query-full Reviewer posthaste!

Okay, that’s enough stilted prose for now. The name ‘Mouchoir de Monsieur’ (Gentleman’s Handkerchief) sounds dated too, doesn’t it? While reading reviews and opinions on Guerlain's Mouchoir de Monsieur Eau de Toilette, the words “dandy” “of another era” and “old fashioned” are used repeatedly. (For the record — maybe I’m old fashioned myself — I always have a fresh linen handkerchief either in my bag or on my person and I use it exclusively to wipe my damp brow. I’ve never been in a position to offer a hankie to someone in need, and my mouchoir is unscented.)

Mouchoir de Monsieur, a Jacques Guerlain creation, was released in 1904; it contains lavender, bergamot, verbena, rose, jasmine, neroli, fern harmony, civet, patchouli, vanilla and iris…

Read the rest of this article »

What follows is not, properly speaking, a review of Guerlain’s Shalimar. Shalimar is so iconic that there isn’t much to be said on the subject that hasn’t already been said, and the only reason I’m writing about it today is that I’m planning to talk about the newest member of the Shalimar family, Eau de Shalimar, tomorrow, and my inner perfume geek insists that I can’t talk about Eau de Shalimar without at least mentioning its parent first.

The oft-told story about Shalimar is that perfumer Jacques Guerlain was messing around with ethyl vanillin, a then-new synthetic vanilla, and he poured some into a bottle of Jicky to see what would happen. Apocryphal or not, the anecdote neatly connects the dots between the dawn of modern perfumery with Jicky in 1889 and the classic fragrances of the 1920s and 1930s…

Read the rest of this article »

Whenever I have a bout of insomnia on terra firma, I do not count sheep or backwards from 1000, nor do I imagine myself on a deserted beach in a comfy hammock; I imagine myself on an airplane, high in the sky, at night. Put me in a window seat with my neck-rest, pillow, eye mask, blanket and earplugs and you will behold a man who can sleep from Seattle to Bangkok. I do love “flying,” especially at night; on an airplane, the engine’s hum and vibration, the isolation, and the suspension of physical activity all induce drowsiness and serenity.

Guerlain’s Vol de Nuit (Night Flight) was (supposedly) inspired by the 1931 novel of the same name by aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. I read Vol de Nuit and assume Guerlain loved its title and figured out a way to incorporate the story into Vol de Nuit’s advertising. Vol de Nuit, le parfum, in no way conjures up the sense of danger and high altitude excitement the novel depicts…

Read the rest of this article »