EXTRAORDINAIRE CAMELLIA 209

Camellias. Bergamot. Cedar Wood. Cardamom. Lemon. Musk. Peppercorn. Tea. Vanilla.

2/27/15

When I was a girl, there was one place that I never tired of going, and that was to my grandparents’ house.  I particularly found that my Grandmother influenced me in many ways as I grew up, and she was the grandparent I felt the closest to.  She was eccentric and flamboyant, and often a complete ‘nudzh!’ but some of the happiest of my childhood memories were forged in that environment.  My Grandma seemed to be able to do everything.  She was an amazing cook; her sauces and pies were to die for, she taught herself languages, yoga, made me outfits for my wardrobe and fairy princess dresses for dance and makebelieve and, along with my Grandad, spent many hours in her beloved garden.  My Grandparents had lived in the same house since my father and his sisters were children, and so, to me, thinking of that place where we spent many a wonderful Christmas pulling on ribbons emerging from a cotton-wooled snowman to get the presents hiding beneath, helping to put the angel on top of the Christmas tree, being allowed access to the treasure drawer as a special treat, pirouetting around ‘the temple’ in a dress adorned with tiny rosebuds that my grandmother had sewn for me, or seeing her dance around the kitchen to the radio while having me conjugate French verbs is a step back in time to a very precious time in my life.

And, amidst all those flowers in the gardens that her and my Grandad worked so hard to cultivate, there are the three things I remember growing.  One were the chives that I was allowed to snip under supervision when we were going to be sprinkling them on cucumber and chive sandwiches, another was the glorious plum tree that bore the sweet and delicious plums that I gorged on on more than one occasion, and the last was the camellia bush that filled the area in front of ‘the temple.’

My grandparents LOVED those camellias.  And when they were in full bloom with their raspberry-hued petals ablaze in the sunlight, it was quite a sight.  I will never forget it.  So, of course, when I see a perfume whose title is ‘extraordinary camellia,’ hello; of course I am going to want to try it.

This is a very unusual fragrance.  And I like it and I don’t, both at the same time.  The problem is, I had been longing to smell what a dedication to this flower could possibly be like.  The Camellia was also Albert Krigler’s favorite, and this scent, launched in 2009 on the 105^th anniversary of the house was intended as an homage to him.  What is not my favorite is that the muskiness and woodiness of this scent are more present than the flower.  Maybe this is partly due to the fact that very few varietals of camellia have any fragrant qualities, and when it is present, it is not that strong.  I suppose I was hoping for an amplification of what is only faintly present in nature.  Lemon is also discernible, but not overwhelmingly so; just enough to give a citrusy hand to the composition.  I like the scent because of the uniqueness of the ingredients and how they dance together, but I get more of a jitterbug when I was longing for a ballet.  If such a thing as a true soliflore perfume of the camellia flower exists, I would love to discover and try it, but I think I let my nostgalia sweep me off my feet, and the reality was sort of dampening.

Rating: 2 nifty squirrels scampering up my grandma’s plum tree.