Tuesday, April 15, 2014


Towards the end of last week I read a comment from a first time client. She said she "found you on
Basenotes.  People trust you there."

That touched me.   I haven't visited the Basenotes forum for a long long time.  It is a forum hosted by and for "perfumistas" and I am not one!   My interest is in healing, and my perfumery skills and knowledge are negligible.  But I decided to go visit. and found some wonderful treats.

I browsed and skipped and searched, read reviews of perfumes, of suppliers, and eventually searched on our name.  Yes.  People had lovely things to say about our oils.  Thank you, Basenotes community!

And then I came across a lovely article about Jasmine, written by author and perfumista, J R Lankford.  

I was fascinated by her extravagant imagery.  And THEN I saw our name...  Quoted with permission.
Hello, Jasmine lovers.
First, let me share a real text reply I sent to my S.O. last week. "Oh, what time is it? Haven't dressed and brushed my teeth yet. Grin." The time was 4:49 pm. What had I been doing? Reading Basenote forum messages, writing forum messages, sniffing samples, ordering samples, looking up info about perfume on the Internet. What I intended to do was turn on the computer and play music in the background while brushing my teeth. Unfortunately, I checked email first and saw a reply to a Basenotes thread. There went the hours. Luckily, I had no obligations that day.
I guess this confirms I'm a perfume addict. Jasmine is my intoxication of choice. Since to me it's the most beautiful thing I've ever smelled, I thought of playing the most beautiful music I've ever heard as I explore Jasmine perfumes. Nessun Dorma' (None Shall Sleep). It's one of those arias so affecting and so famous no one mentions the opera it's from. Just say Nessun Dorma and folks into opera know Turandot. Same thing with Un Bel Di. Opera fans know that's from Madama Butterfly. Nah, these two are so emotional, they'll take my mind off the subject. Better, I'm thinking, is Ravel's Bolero. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KgpEru9lhw. Just like Jasmine, it's hypnotic. The winding melody helps me picture the Jasmine blossom, stirring from the long night and unfurling its white petals to the dawn, soon to find its sultry essence swirled with other noble scents to achieve perfumery's version of Bolero's grand crescendo -- the perfect perfume.
The name Jasmine is Persian, originating from the land of the Tales of a Thousand and one Nights. Appropriate that Aladdin's princess has that name - not in the centuries-old original, mind you, the princess there was unnamed - but in the Disney film. However, Yasmin is a popular Persian name. I picture majestic carved pillars hung with long, flowing fabrics that blow in a morning breeze. From between them comes a woman still wearing her thin night shift. A servant helps her pull the shift over her head and she walks across cool tiles and slips into her courtyard pool. No man is there. This is the harem. Submerging, she dips her hair into the water then floats on her back, enchanted by the palms that sway above, by the rising sun, and the smell of Jasmine all around. Will her true love find her and take her away on a magic carpet, or will the sultan visit and against her will make her his own? Each night she has rejected him, though he lay the world at her feet. But she knows he won't wait forever. Resigned to her fate, she aches with anticipation. One day she'll be rescued, or turn her face from love and be a queen, here, in the Jasmine garden.

Jasmine is a shrub in the olive family, Wikipedia says. It has 200 species native to tropical and warm temperate regions of Europe, Asia, and Africa.
The Nature's Gift sampler has the three apparently most used in perfumery: Grandiflora, Sambac, and Auriculatum (which I hadn't heard of).
Jasmine Grandiflora. (Catalonian Jasmine, Royal Jasmine, Spanish Jasmine). It's exactly like my Perfumery Notes Kit sample. Again I smell the indolic, narcotic scent. When I think of Jasmine, this is it. I could wear it by itself. Someone here described the smell as bananas ' yes, flamb' in a great rum until the alcohol burns off, then add vanilla. That's only an approximation, of course. How describe a primary floral scent, itself used to describe other smells. Per Wikipedia: 'By method of solvent extraction the Jasmine flowers are converted into Jasmine Concrete and Jasmine Oleoresin (sold as Jasmine Absolute). Both products have a huge demand in the fragrance industry.
Jasmine Sambac. (Arabian Jasmine) Native to South and Southeast Asia. A decidedly less
indolic version, with less projection, less presence. It also has a whiff of something resembling cinnamon, though not quite as sharp. I suppose if all the Grandiflora in the world vanished, I could accept this, but not happily. Okay, re-sniffing a day later. Perhaps I'm wrong. This is certainly a beautiful, even majestic, scent and had I not smelled grandiflora first, I'd say it's unsurpassed. [Big coffee bean sniff] Back to grandiflora, it's instantly intoxicating, smoother, milkier, sophisticated. [Coffee beans]. Back to Sambac, something cinnamon-like right away rides above the Jasmine which soon joins in, yes, majesty. Okay, I like it.
Jasmine Auriculatum: (Indian Jasmine, Needle-flower Jasmine) Frankly,
I'm insulted that this astringent wannabe dares pretend to equal its grand cousins. This is not my kind of Jasmine. When the sultan comes, he'll make her his consort, not his queen. It's akin to Sambac with a dab of civet thrown in. Supposedly good (like all Jasmines) for soothing trauma and tension, it's causing me both by not being glorious. Wikipedia doesn't even give it a whole paragraph. However, I do suppose it could become agreeable in combination with other perfume ingredients, perhaps decreasing the need for musks ' assuming you throw in an actual banana to make up for the lack of indoles, though!
In my next installment, I'll return to sniffing Jasmine perfumes, grouping them by classification and/or main ingredients. Like Yasmin, I am anxious. Will they be consummations of love, alliances of grandeur, or both? At least they won't be alone in that pool. "
I want to thank my new friend for the exciting review... I never think to blend music and aroma, to find the fit so she has opened all sorts of avenues for contemplation.  (And I have to remind all of us that another well known perfumista thought highly of our Auriculatum!) You may read other reviews, and experience our Jasmines for yourself here.

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