Retro galore: chypres, florals & other ladies' things

Ladies' things.

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Cristalle by Chanel (1974)

Cristalle opens with a delicate and slightly metallic herbal accord comprising several "organic" pungent and natural nuances (basil, mint, grassy notes), citrus notes, fresh and lively white flowers, dry resins, a really subtle vanilla-amber-woody base which provides a light, but at the same time elegant and Oriental warmth embracing the "freshness" of the scent. Honestly initially the oak moss is not that perceivable in my opinion, after a while the only thing I could link to it is a vague greenish-mossy note, humid and slightly dark, but without all the stale earthiness of oak moss. However I was surely not expecting a Puig's Quorum in drag, so no big deal. The name Cristalle perfectly fits this scent, which in fact has a "cristalline" personality, where crystal means transparency, freshness, angular cleanliness, almost an abstract architecture. Clean, understated and geometrical, elegant but somehow a bit anonym and pale (not in a good way: imagine the smell of a "faded" scent), plus with a really short longevity. Interesting, but nothing amazing to me.

7/10

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Eau de Givenchy by Givenchy (1980)

Eau de Givenchy is a nice, pleasant, relaxed chypre which brilliantly manages to combine a fresh, minty, summery breeze, almost "iodine" in a way, with a denser, darker and stickier base line of notes more typically found in classic chypres – the usual musky/animalic mossy base, not particularly earthy or heavy here, but still carrying that kind of slightly skanky-sweaty smell. In the middle, a bouquet of flowers ranging from carnation to rose, then sandalwood, patchouli, perhaps vetiver. Shortly a classic Oriental chypre on the mossy-woody side with a remarkable fresh twist – halfway mineral and fruity, azure and refreshing, played not on calone but rather on a combination of balsamic, floral, fruity notes which delivers a colourful, fresh breath, slightly aqueous too. Totally refined, a kind of "weekend" relaxed elegance. Perfect elegant drydown (which despite the name "Eau de...", is quite long-lasting). A good one for sure!

8/10

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Chamade by Guerlain (1969)

Chamade (vintage mid-'80s bottle here) is a dark, powerful herbal chypre opening with a foggy, grey, masculine austerity all over: a bouquet of herbs, humid flowers, musky notes, a powdery side, a dry leather base. But most of all, herbs, like in a man's fougère. The reference here seems to be halfway classic chypres à la Guerlain or the (unfairly underrated) great Guy Laroche, and Cabochard or Habanita, that family of "bitchy", skanky feminine scents, although more refined and adorned here by a beautiful, impalpable cloud of lively, radiant, graceful hyacint-soapy talc notes which are not "on skin" but you can clearly smell them in the sillage (an "effect" I totally love). Basically a classic structure which recalls echoes of memorable chypres, with flowers, woods, herbs and resins, just fairly darker, greener, bitter, more ambiguously sensual and nastier, especially for the first hour or so, almost like a chypre for gentlemen if it wasn't for an overall subtle but perceivably soapy-talc softness and a dark, carnal but feminine sensuality running underneath the blend (aldehydes, flowers, vanilla, musky notes). Classy and compelling like "the great ones", perhaps a little less original as to me it smells pretty much a "déjà-vu" to most extents, but surely worth a try if you are a fan of the genre.

7,5-8/10

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L'arte di Gucci by Gucci (1991)

L'Arte di Gucci is a remarkable forgotten classic, a robust aldehydes-floral scent with carnation, geranium, benzoin, white flowers, sandalwood and vanilla, a dense juiciness and a luminous, pleasant and refined subtle carnality. Initially it's all – deceptively - about brightness, flowers and spring liveliness, rich and dense but tending more towards a soapy-powdery kind of denseness. After less than a hour, though, it then starts to evolve and change; a dark and austere base accord arises slowly like a stormy cloud, a powdery-waxy leather with salty and earthy notes of vetiver, discreet and understated but shady and animalic. The transition is great, perfectly executed; it's still a rich, romantic floral scent, just with a bolder darker shade below. I've rarely experienced such a smooth, mellow, effortless and refined change of mood in a scent, with the right among of consistence and "fil rouge" of notes from one stage to another. Rich, sophisticated, terrifically good-smelling.

8,5-9/10

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Vendetta by Valentino (1991)

Vendetta opens with a beautiful blend of juicy, plummy fruity-floral notes, dense and bright, with pleasant aromatic hints of bergamot and green notes on a soapy base of ylang, sandalwood, vanilla, a lively cloud of luminous sweetness and gentle flowers brilliantly blended with a shady, sticky and carnal side of benzoin and leather – initially hiding behind this deceptive overall sweet fruity-floral "plushiness". A balsamic-herbal breeze completes the landscape. A classic architecture embellished with a golden, luminous and radiant brightness which then progressively darkens towards a more austere and refined chypre territory. Simple, romantic, solid and classy.

8/10

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Casmir by Chopard (1992)

Casmir opens with a bag of fruits on sandalwood, vanilla, ylang, Oriental flavours of spices and cinnamon. Briefly, a sweet and creamy fruity bath soap, which however is restrained and complex enough to smell better than most of other scent of this genre. Despite smelling a bit like Fructis shampoo, in fact, Casmir reveals some more structured and intriguing nuances and a compelling deepness of notes: it's plummy, sweet and creamy, but in a sophisticated, mellow, decently-executed and polite way (in other words, it is no sickening teenagers' gourmand and does not smell too much artificial). Not a masterpiece for me, but in that disgraceful family – the "fruity-floral bombs" – surely among the nicest I've ever tried.

6,5/10

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Roma by Laura Biagiotti (1988)

The initial notes of Roma are quite on the sweet-creamy side; ylang, vanilla, a hint of fruits, a balsamic-resinous breeze (myrrh, apparently: basically an Oriental spicy-incense-resin smell like olibanum), a minty note, heliotrope, delicate and aromatic citrus notes, aldehydes, supported by an earthy-animalic velvety base, refined and understated, which gives just a tiny touch of "animalic" à la Jicky but quite soft and hiding like a shadow behind a cloud of silky spicy soapiness. As minutes pass it darkens becoming smokier and more resinous, the balsamic incense is now more prominent together with woods and patchouli, always surrounded by a sweet talc creaminess of ylang, flowers and sandalwood. So in short it's all about flowers, resins, woods, quite on the sweet-bright side despite some interesting darker corners. Undoubtedly a pleasant scent, simple, friendly and elegant (not that sophisticated, though), versatile and iconic – you smelled this everywhere some fifteen years ago in the streets of Italy. The drydown is dry and unexpectedly more greenish, almost grassy and a tad metallic. It may sound weird, but given the similarity of the notes, it almost resembles to Zino Davidoff or Guerlain Héritage's "blond sister". Good and easy-going.

7,5-8/10

Jaipur Homme by Boucheron

Year: 1998
Nose: Annick Menardo

With all the "artistic perfumery" expensive niche scents that I test every week, it's been a while the only surprises that still amaze and wow me regularly come from inexpensive, solid cheapos. Jaipur Homme is another example of this. I wore it quite a lot of times recently to make sure it was really that good as I thought almost instantly after the very first application: it is, indeed. Jaipur Homme is a magnificent, insanely refined scent, which really moves the boundaries of class and sophisticacy. Unique, elegant, addictive. Basically, it's a soft and radiant cloud of Oriental soapiness with sweet vanilla-almond hints, shades of talc, a lively and light bergamot/citrus accord at the very opening, and a beautiful heliotrope breeze providing a breath of nature, pollen, of spring warmth. The soapiness is not the "usual", synthetic soapiness many scents provide; it's true, foamy, opulent and rich soap, cozy and warm as a bath tub in winter time. Clean, rich, dandy, powdery and luscious, with a slight tobacco aftertaste. There's cleanliness and innocence, but view it from another perspective, and it's pure decadent dandiness, deceptively "white" and clean. A refined and relaxed marvel, perhaps too sweet for someone: to me it's one of the most sophisticated male perfumes ever made, which finally moves outside the usual territories of "austere virile masculinity". Boucheron and Annick Menardo did a great job in thinking other new ways to portrait modern masculine elegance – luminous and feminine, but also shady and eccentric. It quickly became my favourite "home fragrance" (which is the highest reward a fragrance can get from me). A must try for niche fans which identify quality with elitism and high prices.

9/10

Three vintage Guy Laroche's

Three gorgeous feminines from the golden era of Guy Laroche, in chronological order.

Fidji (1966)

Fidji by Guy Laroche opens as a fresh, green, dense and "botanical" floral chypre, deep and textured, on a superb base of velvety dust, slightly animalic but radiant and powdery, supported by a woody-spicy axe with almondy nuances (heliotropin, I guess). What strikes me is a splendid, general, chic luminosity all over, greenish and floral, which does not contrast with the darker woody-resinous-animalic side, but instead completes them, or better say, the visual impression is that is almost "arises" from them. The name fits perfectly the scent, you are transported into a chypresque exotic ambiance refreshed by a fresh breeze, shady and mysterious but bright and lively, earthy and raw. All beautifully blended with a more classic, Western carnal soapiness and powdery opulence filled with chic and austere elegance. It may look like a clashing contrast, but as I said, it's not: it smells perfectly compelling and "compact". As minutes pass Fidji warms and softens, a soapy-dusty woody accord emerges while the "fresh" green and zesty breeze tones down and vanishes. A pleasantly modern scent, clean but raw, unisex and "young" somehow. Nothing stunningly new, but a smart, unique, classy and timeless range of variations on a classic theme – the feminine chypre. Effortless, exotic, lively rawness, Another underrated vintage gem from Guy Laroche.

8,5/10

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J'ai Osé (1978)

The original version of J'ai Osé is a great, innovative and respectable chypre, deep and herbal, with a silky and fresh floral breeze all over, perhaps also citrus/bergamot, woods (mostly sandalwood initially), darker and leathery shades of oak moss and perhaps also something like civet – it is not listed but I smell some sweet-sticky dark note hiding behind the oak moss. All rounded by a thin layer of vanilla, enriched by hints of tobacco, coffee, aldehydes. J'ai Osé is a peculiar kaleidoscope of nuances melting together in a way that for the first couple of hours, you almost basically smell something different at each sniff. Complex, enigmatic and fascinating. It reminds me of some classic chypres, but less bold, less leathery and less "predictable", less austere and less canonically "sumptuous" as many of them – J'ai Osé is more exotic, modern, original, apparently lighter but with more contrasts, from sweet to animalic. The sweet-exotic side is perhaps its most fascinating aspect – vetiver, sandalwood, fruity/citrus notes perfectly refresh all the more traditional chypre "dark" side of mossy-herbal aggressive notes. Gentle silky drydown. A great scent indeed, perhaps not that stunning masterpiece to me, but surely great: interesting, compelling, innovative. Quite hard to find, but a great addition to the collection of any fan of true good perfumery.

8,5-9/10

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Clandestine (1986)

Clandestine is a peculiar sort of young and playful chypre, with naughty and dirty nuances made more "colourful" and light by a wild, teenish-irreverent soul. The structure itself is quite classic: the opening is fruity-plummy, suddenly darkening towards a warm floral-resinous accord with also benzoin, aldehydes, lavender, rose, carnation, herbs and the usual composition of chypres – just without leather (at least to me). The result is however more dry, metallic, "angular" if compared to more opulent chypres: to this extent, the bottle quite fits the scent. I appreciate the contrasts between the musky-dirty side and the flowers, it has a certain sensuality but as I said, somehow young, even "naif", like a young girl which wants to feel more mature and play the "lady" card. Carnal, but friendly and somehow fun too - I can't explain why I get this feeling, but as I said, this feels playful to me. I guess this may have to do with the era this went out – 1980's hedonism and the "discovery" of younger targets by brands and agencies, versus the mature, "vamp" lady of the '50s... I see why this chypre smells a bit different from the more classic and austere (or overly "sexy") ones. Finally a dark and long-lasting drydown. Not memorable to me, but nice. 

8/10

M7 by Yves Saint Laurent (2002)

Year: 2002
Nose: Jacques Cavallier, Alberto Morillas

M7 is quite hard for me to review, it has been my "signature" scent around 2003 (actually more than "signature" it was the only bottle I had at that time, and I was not even that passionate about perfumes, I think it was a gift and I used to bath in it – if only I knew they would have discontinued it). To smell it again today after years threw me back in time, which kind of makes it difficult to review it "objectively". However I must say that it aged so well, I am ultra happy to have it back in my rotation, actually it is even better than I remembered – such a complete, rich, irresistible scent. Thousands of words have been written about M7, mostly about the fact it's the first scent introducing agar wood to Western consumers: if we speak about "oud", today there is surely dozens of scents which have a more bold, powerful and deep oud note. The fact is that M7 does not want to be an "oud something", meaning that it's not about oud being thrown among random notes (to make it sound different from other ouds); M7 it's a perfume, with capital "p", therefore the oud is only a component beautifully and masterfully blended with the rest. Basically the original M7 is a great, irresistible, captivating, mellow and elegant woody-ambery scent with sweet nuances – a medicinal-winey and slightly boozy kind of sweet – with a genius hint of dry herbs (oregano) following the "lesson" of Ambre Sultan about how delightfully amber & herbs go together, and the dark, woody (and not rubbery) agar wood base. That's it: a dark, yet friendly scent, rich but gentle on skin basically anytime of the year, refined, deep, versatile. It may look simple, but you smell it once, and you will recognize it anywhere in the future. It has appeal, class, it fits like a glove, it has the same polarizing charm of a well-cut suit, which may have nothing flashy or bold, but makes you stand out for sure. Fans of modern ouds may not like this, as there is no "in-your-face" oud notes – instead the note it's more delicate and blended with the rest of the components; but oud aside, M7 is a complete masterpiece of strength, elegance, depth, contrasts and modernity. It is a banality, but: "they don't make them like this anymore". Don't feed the sharks (sellers), but grab it if you find it a decent price!

9,5/10