smell this: Halston 1-12

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Halston 1-12 launched in 1976 along with its more popular brother Halston Z-14. Both were named for the perfumer’s codes for the drafts, Halston couldn’t decide between the two and launched both simultaneously. Often considered the younger brother, overshadowed by Z-14 (a harbinger of the 80s powerhouse colognes to come), but I think it is also the more academic, more mysterious brother. Z-14 doesn’t interest me at all. I don’t typically like chypres,* often think they smell…not good. Old fashioned? Unpleasant. Musty but not in the way I like…

* “Chypre, pronounced: [ʃipʁ] or [ʃipχ], is the name of a family (or concept) of perfumes that are characterised by an accord composed of citrus top-notes, a middle centered on cistus labdanum, and a mossy-animalic base-note derived from oak moss and musk. Chypre perfumes fall into numerous classes according to their modifier notes, which include but are not limited to leather, florals, fruits, and amber.” (wikipedia)

But I like this. Probably because it meets the technical requirements of a chypre but feels like a fougère.**  Fougères I routinely like (ref. YSL Rive Gauche pour homme). Intellectually a chypre, emotionally a fougère, 1-12 is surprisingly complex for its price tag, and surprisingly contemporary for its age.

** Fougère, pronounced: [fu.ʒɛʁ], meaning “fern-like”, is one of the main families into which modern perfumes are classified, with the name derived from the perfume Fougère Royale (Houbigant) by Paul Parquet, now preserved in the archives of the Osmothèque. This class of fragrances have the basic accord with a top-note of lavender and base-notes of oakmoss and coumarin (Tonka bean). Aromatic fougère, a derivative of this class, contains additional notes of herbs, spice and/or wood.” (more wikipedia)

This opens with a bright lemon and green cedar-like accord, a little shrill for the first few seconds (but you know better than to judge a perfume in the first few seconds) but quickly softened by notes of basil and bergamot. The opening is not my favorite part of this, reminds me too much of the screaming green opening of Grey Flannel, which cologne I like but not until many minutes after application (and even then, not so much as I like 1-12). Grey Flannel, while it has its charm, could never be mistaken for a modern perfume, and I think 1-12 could be. And probably would be, as few seem to know about it.

Effervescent citrus and coniferous green soften into a soapy, lavender-infused green with a hint of gin—by which I mean juniper—, and when the creamy tonka bean (sweet, vanilla-like) comes forward, that’s when I begin to really like this fragrance. The green smells interesting and fresh, mossy yet newly laundered at the same time. This base is balanced such that the players that often dominate the base (amber, musk) are instead quietly warming and intensifying the rest of the team. The key players left on the skin hours in (and this lasts pretty well on me) are moss and tonka bean, with the aromatic cedar and juniper (and maybe lavender, sometimes I can catch it and sometimes I can’t) never quite fading away completely. This may be too soapy for some but I don’t mind it at all. My main complaint about soapy fragrances is that they are dull, and Halston 1-12 is not.

To me this smells subdued and elegant. It’s gently masculine, readily unisex. Suitable for wear year round. Especially good in the rain.

It’s been discontinued for a while but it’s still easy to find it dirt cheap all over, around $10 or less. Fantastic value here, this fragrance shows that you don’t need to spend a lot to get a quality scent. You’re not likely to bump into someone else wearing it, either. Woefully overlooked, check it out.

 

smell this: Hermès, Vétiver Tonka

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The rich earthiness of vetiver never fails to attract me, even in its less palatable interpretations (straight vetiver essential oil, for example, is incredibly powerful and basically unpleasant to smell. It has to be significantly diluted for use in perfumery…still I am drawn in).  I have smelled many now (and there are many to smell – there was a good guide to vetivers on Perfume Posse a bit ago) and really two stand out for me well above the rest. The first is Guerlain Vetiver (1961), which is a clean, unclouded, classic  vetiver, crisp and bright with an effect not unlike that of citrus while being so much more interesting than citrus. Wonderful on anyone, especially on me this summer.

The second is Vétiver Tonka from the Hermessence line by Hermès in-house perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena (of whom I am a great admirer). This is simply one of the best smelling things I have come across. Here the earthy quality of vetiver is offset by the sweet caramel of tonka bean, which I often think of as a mild, toasted vanilla scent. Scent is subjective, so it may just be the perfect storm of hazelnut, vetiver, and a touch of sweetness that makes this smell, for me, like that of some gorgeous otherworldly fruit at the moment of ripened perfection. My reaction is the biological opposite of our instincts to avoid the poisonous and the rotten. I want to approach it, to move ever closer to it, to consume it. It is me. The experience of smelling something you find without fault, something you truly like, without any effort or doubt, is a moment of recognition. It is me with the edges softened and sweetened, rather me shown truly as I am and not as I seem.

But you might like it, too.

The longevity is not excellent but I reason, trusting in Jean-Claude, that this is because if it were any better, the result wouldn’t smell as good. So I don’t care.

If you are near an Hermès boutique, investigate. Many of the other fragrances are wonderful as well. They give generous samples, which will comfort you when you learn the price. I plan to get the discovery set one of these days, with all four slots given to Vétiver Tonka.