Want to Waft of a Wahine ? Recapturing the « Noa Noa of Tahiti

Want to Waft of a Wahine ? Recapturing the « Noa Noa of Tahiti »
- Homage to Paul Gauguin {Perfume Review & Musings}
Want to Waft of a Wahine ? Recapturing the « Noa Noa of Tahiti » Homage to Paul Gauguin
I once held a heavy silver ring with rounded lines in my hand. It depicted what looked
like a Tahitian woman's face. The thickish ring, which had the heft of a bishop's ring,
felt pleasantly weighty. It looked like an artistic sculpture turned ring. My interlocutor
asked me who I thought it was who had made it. He was a friend of the family and just
curious to have my young, unadorned yet intuitive guess based on my general
reputation, I guess. I spontaneously answered even before thinking all that clearly «
Paul Gauguin ? » although I knew him just as a painter. The answer felt obvious to me.
And the friend answered « Yes ! » with a pleased smile.
I remember this artifact as the closest thing I have touched that Paul Gauguin has
created with his own hands, owned, after reading Noa Noa : séjour à Tahiti by Paul
Gauguin.
Summertime is the best time of the year for wearing luscious, decadent, opulent,
tropical white florals to go with the flow, i.e., heatwaves and dilated-pupil scents. It is a
time in particular for borrowing the scent of Tahitian gardenia (Gardenia tahitensis) or
Tiaré, one of the most escapist ones you could hope to smell of while hearing the
sound your heels make on the paved streets of a city which holds you still captive.
The Monoï Accord
Commercialized under the denomination of « Monoï » according to controlled, French
legislative criteria regarding terroir, varietals of coconut and gardenia and stage of
maturation since 1992, its perfume has come to be associated with the scent-surround
experience of the beach in the summer for French holydaygoers in particular. Like
patchouli, it is a relatively new 19th century olfactory introduction having come first to
European shores in 1824.
In recent years, the popularity of the scent has been confirmed by its translation into
fine perfume compositions retaining the original hedonistic component while becoming
more tailored and elegant by design. Even in one case at least, reviewed below,
avangardist. We are breathing in the era of the elevated, cultural Monoï accord having
reached iconic pop or classical status - whichever way you prefer to put it. Nuxe Huile
Prodigieuse has had a hand in it of course, but also Hei Poa and Monoi Tiare Tiki Tahiti,
the latter a product born during WWII in 1942. Going through the filter of the Paris
scene, Monoï has become dressier, brainier. Its fragrance, everyone knows, carries the
very air of Polynesia. The association is strong enough to transport you to Bora Bora
on a magic Pandanus mat.
When used as a beauty oil, Monoï diffuses inside refined coconut oil or coprah, which
extracts the fragrance of the flower in its budding stage thanks to maceration.
We had been writing this article when fragrance company Givaudan happened to ask
on LinkedIn what was the fragrance one most associated with summer. For me - and a
host of other persons steeped in French olfactory culture - the answer is pretty
straightforward: Monoï IS the first scent of summer that comes to mind - of its
anticipation even when it is not summer yet.
The history of art reveals that there existed a French poet who sang the beauties of the
Tiaré flower long before the Monoï craze, and this poet is none other than Paul
Gauguin.
A Forgotten Reference of Olfactive Culture: Paul Gauguin
French painter Paul Gauguin (1848-1903), the seeker of Tahiti and all the promise of
original purity and paradise it held, wrote a travelogue and episodic diary of his stay on
the island from 1891 entitling his journal Noa Noa : séjour à Tahiti (or Voyage de Tahiti).
Gardenia Tahitensis takes pride of place in his essay as more than an exotic motif, just
like in his painting.
In his, often, rapturous account, the phrase « Noa Noa ! » turns into a leitmotiv
chanted like an incantation to beauty, the satisfaction of one's senses, moments of
both spiritual and olfactive epiphanies. By uttering those very words, he in fact seems
to add to the fragrances of the world around him as if he were saying the rosary and
Tiaré blooms fell off his lips. Say the magic words, and it will smell more fragrant !
Noa Noa means « fragrant » or « richly fragrant ». Cacharel created a perfume called
Noa which is mainstream enough, but Gauguin's book is much less known yet worth
reading for its literary qualities, insights into the mind of a creative genius - and last but
not least, for its fine attuning to the sense of smell.
Gauguin, the painter, notices for instance at one point that the Tahitian vegetation is so
inextricably luxurious that his guide in the mountain seems to find his way thanks to his
sense of smell more than his sense of sight.
« Noa Noa » is often proffered when describing the scent of Tiaré and its enrapturing,
invisible coils of fragrance, but it also describes the general fragrant atmosphere of the
island, which is also Noa Noa as if it were a specific physical milieu.
We would like to quote a passage in which he describes a natural, pervasive perfume
accord, which sounds retrospectively like a brief for a niche perfume brand to be
recreated one day. The artist does not shy away from evoking the naturalness of the
combined scents of (menstrual) feminine blood and gardenia he could pick up from the
« vahinés », the French word for wahine. Some anthropological studies have noted
that in some cultures, the scent of the sex of a woman is less suppressed, more
noticeable even in a standing position. If perfumery has turned to Tiaré, it's however
never been for such realistic, even naturalistic pairings. To re-imagine the original
olfactory culture in which Tahitian gardenia thrived for Gauguin, you can listen to his
voice telling us that,
« A mixed perfume, both animalic and vegetal, emanated from them, the perfume
of their blood and the perfume of gardenia flowers - tiare - which they wore in their
hair. « I teie nei e mea rahi no' ano' a (now, very fragrant) they would say. »
This brutalist Tiaré perfume is yet to be recreated two centuries later.
Meanwhile, here is a short list of both beauty oils and fine fragrances which smell
particularly good as they surf on the hedonistic notes of Tahitian gardenia.
Beauty Oils
Apart from the oils cited above, we call attention to the following one.
Review of Hei Poa Monoï de Tahiti au Monoï 1000 Fleurs
« 1000 Fleurs » means « one thousand flowers ». No, this is not a Maoist slogan but a
reference to the 1000 flowers used per liter of the product. 1000 blooms of Tiaré,
frangipane, hibiscus, Kau Pe, Ylang Ylang and lotus are macerated in 1 liter of coconut
oil sold in 200 ml bottles. There are zero preservatives.
The exotic character and beauty of a bouquet of tropical white flowers hits the nose
immediately. The fragrance composition is more complex than you might expect to find
in a body product. The frangipani and gardenia smell of green bananas and coconut
too. The perfume, after an initial explosion of sensations, calms down to remain like a
murmur on the skin. It has to, if its main objective is to cover the whole body.
Fine Fragrances
Each perfume's personality is matched with a characteristic moment of Paul Gauguin's
experience of Tahiti.
Review of Yves Rocher Monoï Eau des Vahinés Eau de Toilette
While Yves Rocher proposes both a beauty oil and edt in their Vahinés range, the eau
de toilette is the better product to focus on. It's reasonably priced while delivering a
rich, buttery-fresh scent of Tahitian gardenia laced with ylang and vanilla. It does not
last for eons on the skin but its price point and size allow you to reapply frequently.
This is a great pick-me-up scent. It smells like a promise of vacation to Bora Bora.
This would be the smell of Tiaré to Gauguin in his most innocent and naive phase, the
discovery stage, when he arrives in Papetee. He has not yet garnered a more complex
knowledge of Tahitian society by becoming a "savage".
Notes : tiaré blooms, ylang ylang, vanilla.
Review of Annick Goutal Songes
This is the « meanest » of the Monoï perfumes on this list. By this we mean that it
eschews being just harmonious. It goes against the grain. The jasmine evokes the
scent of oil as in fossil fuel or petrol. Someone just said « boules de naphtaline »
(mothballs) by my side. It's noticeably spicy, as in spice box and as in carnation. The
composition dances a devil step around the beautiful, innocent scent of Tiaré
suggesting tropical rot under the banana leaves, asa foetida trapped by sweat, cumin,
caraway - and even a hint of curry. A pinch of freesia freshens up the scent but this is
mostly a languid, voluptuous concoction with its eyes circled with the blackest black
Khol. The composition by perfumer Isabelle Doyen juggles putridity, death sun,
flowers, spices, life in an ever moving circle.
The woman who wears this is not only a seductress, she is a magician, but not yet a
priestess. The perfume is mysterious yet carnal rather than spiritual. This would be a
perfect match for all the mythologizing on Hindu religions that Paul Gauguin indulges in
in Noa Noa, as well as for all the sexual innuendos his diary contains. It even manages
to smell of old paper and old books stained by a lick of vanilla ice-cream.
I reviewed the eau de toilette version as I do not have the eau de parfum on hand. The
edt is a very compelling work on the morphing limits of beauty and ugliness.
Recommended for connoisseurs.
Notes: Frangipani flower, Tiaré flower, Sambac jasmine, ylang-ylang absolute, Bourbon
vanilla absolute, benzoin, patchouli, cinnamon, cumin, black pepper.
Review of Guerlain Terracotta
I wrote two years ago that,
« As Terracotta hits the skin, so does a lovely rich blooming effect of flowers
bathed in Tahitian Monoï oil. It remains more nuanced and delicate than the skin
product itself used traditionally by Polynesian wahines to beautify skin and hair. »
Released as a limited-edition, it quickly became a bestseller. It is still in production
today. Review here.
This would be the Tiaré scent to wear at one of the official, kingly Tahitian ceremonies
where a bit of formality cuts through the naturalness of the Tahitian gardenia.
Review of Nuxe Prodigieux Le Parfum
The composition is inspired both by their cult beauty oil and by the coconut-y accents
of drippy gardenia, or Monoï. Both products' scents are created by the same perfumer,
Serge Majoullier of Mane. This edp creates the very pleasant illusion of a jasminey,
salty and creamy Tahitian gardenia made sharper by white musks and woods. The rose
note adds sophistication and depth. It's a very solar scent, easily suggestive of heat at
noon on the beach. It's also light and breezy as if tropical air currents were perfuming
your hair. This would be terrific as a hair perfume. It would also be about Paul Gauguin
simply at the beach.
Notes : Bergamot, mandarin, orange blossom, rose, gardenia, magnolia, vanilla,
coconut milk.
Review of Jean-Charles Brosseau Les Fleurs d'Ombre Ombre Bleue
I am including this fragrance by one of the greats, Michel Almairac, for its solar quality
and the note of Tiaré it features. This is not a Monoï accord perfume per se, in the
2016 sense, but it does contain an explicit homage to the Pacific ocean, as well as to
the Atlantic ocean, the latter thanks to plum and maritime carnation notes. It is richly
decadent, like the effect of Monoï, with a hint of Romantic wistfullness and a retro vibe.
I see it as a bridging perfume between the original milieu of Paul Gauguin in France,
which he tried to escape as best he could, and the scents of Tahiti, of his customary
Tahitian wife, Tehura. One could elaborate on the dark side of Paul Gauguin's love
affair with Tahiti, but this is not the time and place.
We can however retain his universalist incantation to unite all perfume worshippers:
Noa Noa!
Notes : carnation, orange blossom, muguet, centifolia rose, lily, jasmine, cedarwood,
benzoin Siam, styrax, balms, sand, sea, dried fruits and honey.
We will add to this list when we can and following the evolution of this perfumery
genre.