Blogging the Madinis: Hanane and Fougere

Chaya and I are doing our doubles thing again this week, with a pair of Madini's unisex creations. I made a point of not looking at Chaya's review before I scribbled down my thoughts, just to see how much we'd agree on these two scents, which we've never discussed. We turned out to be pretty nearly in sync. Me first:

BitterGrace: The phrase that comes to mind for Fougere is “sweet and clean.” I don’t mean in the contemporary sense, a la the Philosophy Grace line; Fougere has the clean sweetness of cold spring water, the rich purity of a woodland breeze. It opens with a heavy dose of Madini’s signature smooth lavender, which lacks any hint of herbal bite. Within a few minutes the lavender is complemented by a birch note, which then gives way to a soft balsam and sandalwood accord. There are very faint hints of anise and honey. Fougere has the perfectly rounded quality of that great oldie, Canoe, but to my nose it completely lacks Canoe’s lemony opening, thus saving itself from olfactory association with the barber’s chair. The final dry down has a slightly powdery quality, with a touch of vetiver and (is this just my wishful thinking?) tonka. All in all, a scent for those days when you want to seem charming and unchallenging.


If you love galbanum (and I do dearly love it), then Hanane should be on your “must try” list. It opens with what can only be described as a blast of that wonderful super-green note, and somehow manages to make its briskness last all the way to the finish. The Talisman site describes Hanane as a balsamic-galbanum combination, but this is in no way a marriage of equals. I get barely a hint of balsamic sweetness, though I do get a mellower herbal/green note—sage perhaps?—and I would swear there is a gardenia lurking in there somewhere. In fact, Hanane reminds me very distinctly of the heart of vintage Ma Griffe, after the bergamot has mostly fled, and before the styrax makes itself known. Unlike Fougere, Hanane doesn’t develop much on me, just slowly fades to a pleasant tanginess on my skin. I’d call this a scent for green addicts only, though any perfumista with a respect for classic chypres might want to invest in it, given that the true chypre is rapidly going the way of the dinosaur.

Now, Chaya's turn:

Chayaruchama: Today ‘s Madinis are night and day...And which represents night or day is utterly subjective…

Madini Hanane is a scent I often overlook, simply because I’ve too many. This morning when I applied it, I was immediately stricken by its powerful resemblance to vintage Piguet Bandit, minus the leather. Not trusting my nose or instincts, I compared the notes available. To quote Madini: Hanane is “ an elegant Balsamic composition. A galbanum base carries tuberose, red rose, jasmine, clove, santal blanc, and patchouli with a hint of amber and musk.” Notes listed for Bandit are: galbanum, orange, neroli, jasmine, rose, tuberose, ‘leather’, patchouli, oakmoss, and musk. Nice to know you’re not being fooled, quoth I !

Hanane is very clearly chypric: elegant sophistication, ‘bon marche’. It opens up with a citrus-y top of what appears to be bergamot with a big dose of galbanum. The effect is very fresh and green, reminiscent of other great chypres: Y, Rive Gauche, Bandit, Scherrer. The rose and jasmine follow seamlessly on its heels. Clove is a sleight-of-hand, a parlor trick, barely perceptible. Tuberose is softly insinuated, more for its animalic quality than its floralcy, hence creating the illusion of a leathery note similar to Bandit.
The base is far more crafty--the santal blanc is as subtle as can be, cushioning only the barest suggestion of patchouli. Ambre is hinted at only when it all dries down, and then one senses whispers of musk.

Fougere is a completely different matter. Described on the Talisman site as “ferns, grasses and mosses. A fresh woodsy clean and dry composition.” I find Fougere to be woefully misconstrued. I’m certain, not on purpose. Perhaps there is a cultural perceptual variance at work. There is very little ‘woodsy’ about it, as I would recognize it. It feels very creamy and satiny to me, which I don’t associate with “clean and dry.” [Australian sandalwood is clean and dry; Virginia cedar is clean and dry, myrtle and pine are clean and dry!] Nonetheless, it follows a formula similar to classic fougeres: Lime or citron on top, lavender in the middle, and a vanillic base , laden with what smells suspiciously like opoponax to me. Possibly musks with tonka / benzoin , too. If the woodsiness is supposed to include patchouli, I find little olfactory evidence- but I suspect it must be in there, somewhere.

The closest cousin I recall is Guerlain’s Jicky or Mouchoir de Monsieur, except that they are far edgier, with a glorious dose of honking civet in the base. [Extremely animalic, verging on deliciously dirty, which I never perceive in Madini’s Fougere.] Caron’s Troisieme Homme is a distant relative, but it is very much MORE grassy and mossy, woody, and herbal/dry, due to the presence of rosemary, anise, moss, cedarwood, and patchouli. The top in Caron is bergamot--more commonly used--but the amber, musk, tonka and vanilla are in there, as well.

Bottom line: Whether you agree with the website’s definition or not, Fougere is a thoroughly delightful, lingering, creamy/spicy, softly herbaceous scent. It is delicate and comforting, although not complex, and wonderful for either gender.


Illustrations of fern and galbanum from Koehler's Medicinal Plants, 1887, via Wikimedia Commons.