The following exercise has been significantly modified in order to fit the scope of both the materials I have available (the notes, their concentrations, etc.) and time constraints. The classical chypre note is composed of the raw material of oakmoss absolute (which has been unfortunately heavily regulated by the IFRA, threatening the future of this genre of perfume), a base note known for a musty, mossy and earthy character, that, in my opinion, smells of molasses in high concentrations.
My first step was to create a small series of accords based on oak moss absolute and ambroxan (a synthetic alternative to ambergris), combined in varying ratios. The first combination, 3 parts oakmoss and 1 part ambroxan, maintained the character of the oakmoss to a great extent. While remaining remarkably similar to concentrated oakmoss absolute (complete with the molasses aspect, but also making room for a dark mossiness to peep out), it also smells slightly smoother and a bit less dark. The roughness of the oakmoss raw material has been diminished noticeably.
The second combination, in which equal volumes of oakmoss and ambroxan have been combined, has even more evidence of the creaminess of ambroxan. I find it interesting how the addition of this material doesn't as much disrupt the character of the oak moss so much as create the space for other aspects of the oakmoss to appear that are not nearly so noticeable when the product is highly concentrated. In this case, I'm thinking of the mossy and musty facets that oakmoss is so famed for, which are now more prominent than the thick syrup/molasses qualities of the concentrated material.
The final combination is 3 parts ambroxan and 1 part oakmoss, creating an accord based principally on ambroxan (rather than on oakmoss, as the first was). In this composition, it is the salty creaminess of the ambroxan that strikes me first, but after a slight space the oakmoss surfaces as a musty moss-like scent with just a bit of earthy deep sweetness.
In order to flesh out the scent further, and because the majority of chypres have a musky character, the next combination is composed of 3 parts oak moss, 4 parts ambroxan, and 1 part musk ketone (I have increased the ratio of ambroxan to oakmoss due to the relative concentratiosn of my materials- the oakmoss absolute to which I have access is of a very high concentration). Building on the foundation of oakmoss absolute, which smells here primarily warm and mossy, earthy, with just a bit of sweetness, we have the musk ketone, which lends air to the composition and gives more play to the salty creaminess of the ambroxan while adding its own smooth, warm and lived-in, not quite clean and not quite dirty character. It's a warm and drying forest floor in the afternoon with clean but slightly close air, and the whisper of a salty breeze every now and again, from an ocean just a little in the distance.
To this base, I added 2 parts of rose and 1 of civet. The result is a fresh rose scent, soft pink petals spread across a darker and deeper base. The base picks up the darker nuances of the rose. There's a warm moss behind and beneath the flower, smooth and creamy and cushioned, with just a touch of dirty and salty animalic character A warm rose, fresh and blush pink over a golden green background, a background with the smell of sun-heated mossy forest floor, and just a touch of warm fur and skin. To my surprise, it's starting to actually smell more fleshed out. Still too simple to be something that could actually be considered a perfume (and wouldn't it be just about the least original perfume one could imagine? (although I haven't added oud, so that's one point to its favor...)), but it smells more like the skeleton of a perfume than a simple accord.
To these heart and base notes Jean Carles recommends that one add top notes, specifically bergamot and sweet orange. For this purpose I utilized bergamot (2) and mandarin aldehyde (1). The sweet aldehydes and spicy citrus of bergamot are all that is noticeable at the outset, and the bergamot soon surpasses the sweet aldehydes in strength. Citrus scents generally fail to interest me, so I will apologize and recommend that you take my only cursory appreciation of this last combination with a grain of salt. I do register, interestingly, that the bergamot smells spicy enough to have a passing resemblance to pepper. Odd. I will update this once the top notes fade somewhat more. Update: The scent remains more peppery than the others, but draws closer to them with time. I prefer the version one before this one, that was lacking the top notes. Though it was rough initially, I find that the remaining bitter bergamot peel and pepperiness disturbs my appreciation of the heart and base notes. I would prefer the citrus to be lighter, and would make that change were I to reformulate the scent.
Further work in Part 1 of Jean Carles' method recommends some experimentation with vetiver. Now, vetiver is quite possibly my least favorite note. Sorry to all of you vetiver fans out there, but, at least at this point in my exploration of perfume, smelling it gives me neither happiness nor pleasure. So I may skip that bit. Part 1 is wrapping to a close, it may have one post left in it, it may not. Regardless, it's been interesting.
Photo of oakmoss stolen from Fragrantica.
