Dutch fashion designer Lilian
Driessen launched her triptych of MariaLux fragrances in 2012. The perfumer is her husband the avant-gardist scent-creator Alessandro Gualtieri, aka The Nose a genuine Italian eccentric who
launched and created the cult Nasamotto range of sleek and enigmatic scents
including the crystalline Narcotic Venus and the indelible, pungent reek of
Black Afgano. I know so many people that love this dark druggy formulation
and shops that sell it struggle to keep it in stock, but I’m very uncomfortable
with its suffocating herbal reek on my skin. Now I think Gualtieri’s technique
and imagination is magical, I love the glassy, slow neo-gardenia intoxication
of Narcotic Venus and the explosive machismo
of Duro, but Black Afgano and me… no, never gonna work, it chews at my senses
like a rabid dog and makes the blood vessels in my brain expand to breaking
point. But as ever with such complex scent-making.. each to their own druggy, smoky
darkness.
The creativity surging back
and forth between Driessen and Gualtieri must be quite awe-inspiring. The couple
are based in Amsterdam and Lilian has also masterminded a trio of unique fragrance-selling
spaces, Avery Fine Perfumery in
London, Modena and New Orleans.
I have a special connection to the London boutique,
as it was the subject of my very first Silver Fox blog piece back in June 2011.
I went in and immersed myself in the Avery/aviary
experience, sampling beautiful fragrances from The Dressing Table, an ornate
set of deep drawers set on anthropomorphic bird feet, hding bottles of beautifully
curated scents
‘Perfume is volatile, like a
bird,’ Driessen once said.
I was introduced scent by
carefully chosen scent by a wonderful sales consultant until we found Atelier d’Artiste by Nez à Nez, the
sadly now discontinued brand by Stephane Humbert Luca. The scenting of a black
feather, the distinctive tissue, and the airy sound of birdsong as I shopped
made for a strange and beguiling experience, one I have never forgotten. And one
I always remembered very time I wore that extraordinary blend of woods, paint,
turpentine, brandy, tobacco and fruit. At the time I had no idea who was behind
Avery, I just loved the concept. They stocked a unique selection of perfumes
and candles and enjoyed a prestige word of mouth reputation among the perfume cognoscenti.
I like the glamour of the
Driessen/Gualtieri dynamic. Outside of Nasamotto, Gualtieri has only worked on
a limited number of projects, a very niche distillation of a rural community (wild
flowers, grasses, hay and earth) entitled Eau
de Polder and Green for the
Morgane Le Fey line, a very odd mix of fruit and verdancy that uses coconut
water to throw a disconcerting veil of cucumberness over the composition. At
Esxence 2014 he grandiosely declared: ‘Nasamotto is dead! Orto Parisi is born!’
referring to his new line of five perfumes launching this year, whilst still
promoting the launch of Blamage, the
final Nasamotto scent and the Paul Rigter film about the creation of this
particular scent. Quite the man.
Working for his beloved wife
though, I think The Nose has excelled himself. The three MariaLux scents (they
will be joined by two more later this year) are exercises in restraint and
internal subversion. They seduce gradually from within, over gentle time. They
feel personal, intimate and most of all immaculate.
I had noticed the three
MariaLux perfumes in a couple of places and for some odd reason not tried them.
I don’t know why, the retro jewel-cut style crystal effect bottles are sheer
joy. I love the soft 70s stewardess uniform colour palette and the vague kitchy
touchy-feely quality they possess. They have a doll’s house aura, the faded immediacy of 70’s nostalgia. Images of
Lauren Hutton, Margaux Hemmingway, a sense of little girl lost in the sexual
blur of the disco darkness.
MariaLux is Lilian Driessen; she is quite adamant about that. Maria of The
Light, The Luxurious, The Lustful. She is both alter ego and reflection.
Virgin. Mother, Lover. A powerful and ancient triumvirate, subverted into
Light, Luxury and Lust, thus becoming Truly,
Madly, Deeply. This alternative Driessen, split into three Romanticised olfactive elements perform in part like
talismans to protect the whole, real woman.
Dreissen’s background is in
fashion, this was her world for 25 years, including stints at Diesel Black
& Gold and Viktor & Rolf. Her own label is moody and simmers with
strong female attitude. The images are spiky, layered and defiant, the models naturalistic
and moody. The cloth hangs over the body like evening wear armour; there is danger
in Driessen’s heels and belts, the subtle draping and concealment. The
oscillation between extreme femininity and warrior is at times perturbing. The
fragrances launched in 2012 adding another layer of lustre and enigma to the
MariaLux persona. Fragrance is arguably a form of clothing, worn very close,
both revealing and masking the body. Few designers understand the true intimacy
of scent, the absorption of skin, scent and fabric. On the MariaLux website
Lilian writes: Everything I own smells of
you. This is a clarion call of sensual scented couture.
One of the key working
differences for Alessandro Gualtieri as a perfumer is the retention of mystery;
he reveals next to nothing about the notes in his formulations, preferring
clients and perfume lovers to experience his creations unbiased as it were, free of preconceptions. It can be a little
frustrating in this day and age when we are so used to being able to Google any
single piece of information we require. Even I find the lack of info a little
irritating, but it just means I have to dedicate a little more time than usual
to the olfactory reverse engineering and pondering/sniffing I like to do at
night with a note book and pencil by my side.
There a few indications to
help; Truly is a white floral essay
of true, pure and everlasting love. Madly
as the name suggests examines the nature of obsession, dark and emotional with
powder, spice and resins. Finally there is Deeply,
pain and broken hearts, the sweetness of lost love, a spicy honeyed gourmand.
These are somewhat superficial readings of very complex and singular
fragrances. It took me a while to really breathe my way through the structures
and effects, the winsome diversions and pockets of shadow. These three facets
of woman - beauty, daring and eroticism – are uncompromising and deceptively
abstract perfumes.
I have shown these three fragrances
to a few people who kinda sniffed blankly and shook their heads, told me they
‘didn’t get them’ and didn’t understand the point of them. I secretly smiled.
They belong to a genre I like to call Inscrutable
Chic. The only other person who understands this is my friend Mr E,
schooled and raised in a haze of classics such as pearlescent Chanels and
Carons and the boudoir trailings of Guerlain. He appreciates the thrill of fine
cashmere and the lustre of a pearl in a certain smoky light. Fragrances like
MariaLux (and to a certain degree Nasamotto) rely on effect, light and texture
to create an interaction with the wearer. Of course the notes matter, but the
minimalism and in some cases removal of the formulae, allow a freer association
with the structure. The Ann Gerard fragrances fit into this category, they are
outstanding works of olfaction, but Bertrand Duchaufour and Ann have carefully
manipulated our awareness of stone, metals, shine and glow to create these
jewel inspired scents. Thy have immense compulsion and artistry, yet remain
aloof and just a little out of reach and all the more beautiful for it. Ys Uzac
is another niche house I would add to this Inscrutable
Chic category, I LOVE Vincent Micotti’s aristocratic and refined
fragrances, all inspired by the esoteric and sensual world of jazz and
classical music. He is very open about his influences and materials and yet
somehow his exquisitely rendered creations (in perhaps the niche world’s most
beautiful packaging…) still remain stylishly arcane. I am currently writing on
Ys Uzac and the very odd Lale… so,
more to come on that.
There is no huge mystery to
the beauty of these inscrutably chic
scents; they echo many grande dames
of perfumery, after all, there are only a certain number of classical
permutations available to create the big effects. True, aromachemistry can push
the boundaries of illusion, but like an artist with colours on a palette, the
trick is to dazzle with effect and sleight of hand with the chromatics
available. In an age where so many of our great benchmarks of perfumery have
been re-orchestrated, face-lifted and diluted it is vital that these stylish
and offbeat echoes of clarity and grandeur are loved, cherished and worn.
So as in life, sex and love a
little mystery can still be a valued commodity. The big reveal is not always
lovely. True sensuality is in the tease, the flirt and suggestion. I have been
wearing Truly, Madly, Deeply for a
couple of hours now. This is my sixth or seventh wearing and I am struck each
time how flawless and uncompromising Gualtieri’s structuring is. I do prefer Truly and Deeply. Madly fades off a
little too quickly for my liking.
Truly is a fuzzy,
fizzy white floral, opening on a roaring old-fashioned Lux soap note that made
me smile my lips off. If you have ever used soap flakes to wash delicates, it
smells like they feel as you rub them between your fingers, weird and intensely
heady. Truly smells aldehydic, gauzy
as it unfolds, rolling a shimmering echo of every truly vintage Chanel over the
skin. This impression is very subtle though as if to remind us very quietly how
much we have lost in the reformulations and modernisings chez Chanel. As it
settles I was put in mind of shimmering silver fur laid over the shoulders of
the most luminous skin. The blooms are bone white and bitter, I smell galbanum
and an icy muguet, some baie rose and soft resins, a little blush of rose
perhaps, jasmine and a creamy lick of nascent magnolia. All of these and maybe
none, maybe just the ghost of them carefully wrapped in tissue paper with the
memories of a beloved love-drenched wedding.
The middle section Madly, I find a little frustrating,
schizophrenic even. Maybe this is the point, to represent an obsessive unstable
aspect of love. I’m not so sure. I prefer the more hidden/maternal
interpretation of Madly. It is my least favourite of the three, but that is not
to say I didn’t like it, I found it quite ephemeral and it just didn’t last
that long. It did however linger in fibres as I found out by accidently
spraying on a black cashmere jumper, as I lay crashed out with fever and
migraine this week. It took on a whole different dimension, much more nurturing
and rounded. When you first spray it on skin, the notes are beautifully warm
and enticing with a mellow, follow-me moreishness. The glow of resins, balms
and what I perceive as a tropical tuberose facet (I smell C18 aldehyde or
something laying down a rather volatile coconut effect). There is a sprinkling
of powder, a certain haphazard chalkiness that flutters through the composition
with very little real conviction. Brushed over the perfume I think is the
intent to offer up philtres and spell to the skies above; Madly may have been conceived as an ode to the follies and
impetuous nature of love, but is really a rather insipid collage that dissipates
all too soon.
Deeply is a
gourmand, underpinned by hints of armpitty balsams, spices and a persistent
styrax-type plushness in the way the perfume diffuses so luxuriously on the
skin. I smell hints of caramel and frankincense, dusted in maltol-sugars, amber
and torched vanilla. It smells as if it should be served in a porcelain cup,
laced with gold filigree, such is its luminescence. I expected to like Deeply; I knew it was the more gourmand
of the trio, but its persuasive animalic undertow makes it very foxy indeed. This
third part of Lilian Driessen’s triptych is loosely themed around the lover,
the pain and emotion of love as it were I suppose purely because of the supposed
depth and resonance of this particular scent. Again it radiates certain
classicism, the balsamic hints of a faded Shalimar,
and a whiff of the original Angel
with the lost muskiness I now associate with my beloved and much mourned Eau de Cologne by Helmut Lang. I search
high and low for that elusive snowy opaque embrace and there is just enough of
that effect in the dying moments of Deeply
to make me shudder. In the end it is a nuzzling thing, recondite and
post-coital, fabulous in the dark.
Lilian was interviewed by one
of my favourite people in scented writing, Helder Suffenplan, for his online
magazine Scentury. She describes herself as a storyteller, an auteur, using
life and everyday travels, loves and experiences, sparking a desire to simply
as she puts it: ‘voice a difference; for
my craft lies in expressing that’. She also mentions key influences,
including two of my heroes Rei Kawakubo and Louise Bourgeois, artists (and
women.. for they are most importantly women.) who have changed the perceptions
of art, design and sculpture. And I was thrilled to bits to see Roberto Lorenzi
in her five, the eccentric menswear designer for Diesel Black & Gold. I may
not like his slick rock and roll take on apparel, but he isn’t afraid to look
wild and untamed, a little crazy, like some kind of holy fool. It’s a short and
revealing interview and you can follow the link to the piece here.
I adore the undeniable
vintage vibe glittering through the MariaLux trio. It’s as if Lilian Driessen is
channelling her power through old style beauty and all our fragranced
yesteryears; the freedom of fabulous androgynous Dietrich tailoring, the artic
chill of Grace Kelly, the marabou trimmed froufrou of Doris Day and Jayne Mansfield,
a touch of Nordic enigma, some Garbo say and Bergman…the mix is knowing and divine.
All of this has been translated into a refined and perceptive collection by an
expert Nose and a woman who understands perfectly the eternal attraction of
private sensuality. A gentle covert edge has been applied to these beautiful
formulae, adding elements of alien ornamentation and discreet tones of
modernism. They have the texture of rarity and opulence. They whisper rather
than shout. I like the moving forward of beauty while referencing those who
have perfumed before. Love, passion and obsession; are these not the
touchstones of scent?
For more information on Marialux, please follow the link below:
For more information on Nasomatto, please follow the link below:
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