Roger & Gallet Oeillet Bleu

Much thanks to Deb at LuvParfum for a sample of Roger & Gallet’s Oeillet Bleu. My obsession with vintage fragrances hits a peak every time I visit her website. I really don’t know what’s stopping me from buying everything in sight.

In Bottle: Unmistakably vintage with a spicy floral opening. I get carnation in a big way, in the sort of way you don’t get these days because big carnation like this could scare off those faint of heart.

Applied: Spicy carnation. Lots of floral and plenty of clove to leaven it. This is green but makes me think of oranges and reds instead. I guess I needed a color that embodied the heat and passion that I get when I smell this. Oeillet Bleu is vibrant even after all these years and has a beautiful leathery vanilla base that complements it painfully well. I wasn’t sure if I would continue to like the leather in this, but it proved me wrong. Oeillet Bleu is something of a soliflore. I don’t get much else outside of carnation and the buttery base, but it’s one of the best carnations I’ve ever experienced. It’s also one of the most convincing and long lasting.

Extra: Released in the late 1930s, Oeillet Bleu or Blue Carnation was a major hit for Roger & Gallet. I’m not sure when they decided to take it off the markets, but it was truly a sad day and I haven’t smelled a carnation quite as pure as this yet.

Design: Oeillet Bleu came in a few forms, the one I kept seeing was a somewhat unassuming ribbed glass flacon with a blue cap and matching blue label with the house name and fragrance name on it. Its designs are all perfectly beautiful in the classic way. It definitely reminds me of an era long gone.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Carnation, clove, vanilla, leather.

It needs to be said that things are truly unfair when some of the finest smelling fragrances are discontinued. Ah well, happy Valentine’s Day!

Reviewed in This Post: Oeillet Bleu, ~1950, Eau de Toilette.


Ineke Hothouse Flower

As I went through the list of FiFi Indie nominees, my eyes caught on Hothouse Flower by Ineke as the information was transmitted into my brain which made my hand shoot into the box of samples in my desk drawer. Hothouse Flower was a fragrance I had intended to save for spring, but with its name coming up on the nominees list, I couldn’t help the curiosity.

Hothouse Flower

Hothouse Flower

In Bottle: Green and floral, lots of gardenia but smells like dew dappled gardenia.

Applied: Hothouse Flower reminds me of days where the rain only lightly mists everything. It’s fresh and green like the smell you get when you pinch a leaf. The gardenia is very present, but it works well with the greenness and the freshness. It’s tame, not crazy or overpowering. I don’t smell much of the tea, but there’s a small mention of incense in the fragrance. The scent ages with a more noticeable cypress but always remains true to that lovely, green gardenia. Very nice, conjures up beautiful images of tall trees, pretty flowers and dew–just the kind of imagery I could fall in love with.

Extra: Ineke Ruhland is an independent perfumer operating out of San Fransisco. Hothouse Flower was released in 2012 and found its way to my desk drawer via a friend’s recommendation.

Design: Nice, simple packaging. Cylindrical vessel with nice elements etched on glass with a tasteful, equally simple cap. Nothing glaring, nothing too obvious, just plain old good work.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Earl grey tea, leaves, cypress, gardenia, galbanum, fig, frankincense, guaiac wood, corn silk, musk.

After experiencing Hothouse Flower, I want to go out of my way to get more of it thanks to the imagery it inspires. Or, better yet, get my hands on more house samples. Best of luck to Ineke Ruhland in the FiFi awards.

Reviewed in This Post: Hothouse Flower, 2012, Eau de Parfum.


Frederic Malle Carnal Flower

Carnal Flower is like a homage to the distinctive, seductive heady tuberose. I’ve always encountered tuberose and approached it with a semi-satirical love. I don’t actually like tuberose that much but I smell it so strongly in fragrances that it converted me over to the tuberose side some time last year.

Carnal Flower

In Bottle: Big old tuberose. Though the tuberose used in Carnal Flower has a cleaner, clearer presence than what I would normally get. Carnal Flower is made of higher quality materials than most perfumes, and the aroma of the tuberose with this crystal clear, heady but tempered scent is the reward.

Applied: There’s a very brief moment upon application where the tuberose hasn’t hit my nose yet where I can smell a sheer pretty base of clean gentle citrus and flowers. Then tuberose makes its entrance and it is all I get from then on. But as stated above, the tuberose in Carnal Flower has this crystalline and pure quality to it. It’s a natural aroma, smells very complex and is not too strong or sour. it’s perfectly full, dense, and heady. White florals all the way on this one as the tuberose heads the way from the top to the middle to the bottom where you’re greeted by the bolstering of the scent. Soliflores are fascinating in how they manage to smell so complex for a perfume focused around a single flower. Carnal Flower is one of these beautifully complex soliflores. The fragrance is elegant, powerful, and is an extremely good example of how beautiful a high-quality tuberose scent can smell.

Extra: Carnal Flower’s got a lot of selling points but one of the more famous is its boast that its smell is that of the most natural tuberose. I’m inclined to agree.  This stuff is very good.

Design: Bottled in much the same way as other Frederic Malle scents. A cylindrical glass bottle with a cylindrical cap. It doesn’t look flashy, garish, nor does the shape of the bottle hinder the purpose of the bottle in the first place. The packaging is a bit plain, I admit, but the stuff inside the bottle is what you’re really looking for when you buy a Frederic Malle fragrance.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Bergamot, melon, eucalyptus, ylang-ylang, jasmine, tuberose, Salicylates, tuberose absolute, orange blossom absolute, coconut, musk.

Since winning me over, tuberose has since convinced me that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have it sitting around on the off chance that I get the urge to smell like a big white floral. Hey came around to liking tuberose from a year ago. Who knows what might happen a year from now? Maybe I’ll be so crazy for tuberose that it would be all I ever wanted to smell.

Reviewed in This Post: Carnal Flower, 2008, Eau de Parfum.


Serge Lutens Un Lys

I couldn’t mention Un Lys in a recommendations list without doing an actual review of it. But the truth is, Un Lys is a pretty lily soliflore that leads the way in pretty lilies. It’s rocketed itself up my personal favorites list to number two, just behind the ever beautiful Spiritueuse Double Vanille.

Un Lys

In Bottle: Cuts the chatter and gets straight to the lily. This is a soft, creamy, gentle lily fragrance. Unmistakable and hard to miss or confuse the notes in this.

Applied: Well, considering there’s really only three notes in Un Lys, and considering the fragrance’s name you expect there to be lily and that’s what you get upfront. It starts off sharp and green and leafy with the lily gaining way over the sharp greenness until it takes over the stage. This is a white, soft and dry lily fragrance that lilies it up from the get-go and keeps going for a few hours time before meeting a vanilla note and clean musk at the end where the lilies keep living until its time to fade completely. Utterly beautiful and fabulously done lily fragrance.

Extra: Un Lys is an interesting contender in the Serge Lutens line where most of their fragrances tend toward heady, rich and deep, Un Lys is the sweet top floating floral t.

Design: Un Lys is bottled in the same way other Serge Lutens fragrances are. A thin, simple, glass rectangle. It’s done well, done elegantly and without flashy gimmicks. And, if you line up a bunch of Serge Lutens bottles in a row, it looks quite nice.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Lily, musk, vanilla.

I love Un Lys, but then, I also love lily scents and love floral scents in general. Un Lys is a particularly well done lily that should be a big hit to anyone who favors the fragrance.

Reviewed in This Post: Un Lys, 2010, Eau de  Parfum.


Prada Infusion de Tubereuse

Being a big fan of a couple of Prada’s other infusions (d’Iris and d’Homme), I went out looking for the newest releases. Infusion de Tubereuse looking forward to a light, airy tuberose treatment and Prada delivers yet again.  Infusion de Tubereuse

In Bottle: Very faint, light tuberose, green and almost fresh and clean like tuberose that’s been run under some water and scrubbed for presentation’s sake.

Applied: The infusion of this tuberose are a bit heavier and more literal than what I experienced in d’Iris. Infusion de Tubereuse puts a very gentle, very mild note in there that’s hard not to like. It’s an easy tuberose to wear, as it’s very clean and soft. It’s practically the polar opposite of most tuberose scents that tend to capitalize on the flower’s ability to dominate a perfume. There’s a slight sweetness and crispness lingering around in this scent to further clean it up as Infusion de Tubereuse rounds itself off with a dry down that’s green and only a touch bitter.

Extra: Tuberose is a perennial flower with a juicy, sweet, heady floral scent that some people equate to smelling like rubber. Tuberose is most often used as a middle note in perfumery.

Design: Infusion de Tubereuse is bottled similarly to d’Iris and d’Homme. There’s a little more detail going into the packaging with a design focusing on the purple fragrance rather than just solid colors. The simplicity of the Infusions’ packaging is fantastic and I’d love to line them all up in a row.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Indian tuberose, petitgrain bigarade, blood orange, dynamone.

Petitgrain bigarade’s an interesting note because it’s one of the most prominent scents in this fragrance. It is, essentially, the green leaves of a bitter orange tree. I guess that explains it.

Reviewed in This Post: Infusion de Tubereuse, 2010, Eau de Parfum.


Floris Lily of the Valley

This is probably one of the oldest fragrances that I’m going to review in this blog–In terms of the fragrance’s release date, anyway. Floris’ Lily of the Valley was released in 1847. It’s a sheer, wonderful little floral fragrance that’s seen more history than anyone alive today. Lily of the Valley

In Bottle: Bright green citrusy floral with a hint of sweet lily of the valley. Very clean and smells quite classic.

Applied: In case it wasn’t already immediately obvious, Lily of the Valley is a soliflore dedicated to one of the most popular notes in perfumery. Real lily of the valley smells like a white, ethereal floral with a touch of sweetness. It’s a very delicate and fine scent. Floris’ Lily of the Valley plays up this type of fragrance. It opens with a clean lemon that clings onto the fragrances as it takes a turn for the floral middle notes. There’s definitely lily of the valley in there as its predominance is bolstered by a lightly sweet floral backing where I assume is where the rose and jasmine are hanging out. As the fragrance enters its base notes, you get a hint of the tuberose peaking through a greenness that reminds me of pinching herbs to see how they smell.

Extra: Lily of the Valley was one of Floris’ first perfumes. It was actually composed by Juan Floris, the founder and it is still hanging around today. Though without a doubt, some things in the formula have probably been changed to meet with changing standards and economic times.

Design: Floris is contained in a no nonsense glass bottle with a simple label declaring the fragrance name and house. It’s a simple and sharp design that doesn’t boast of any thrills or frills and I like it. It’s an appropriate echo for the the fragrance itself in its simplicity.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Green leaves, lemon, lily of the valley, jasmine, rose, tuberose, musk.

Lily of the Valley does smell like classic and as such, it’s often accused of smelling “old”. But there’s nothing old about it except how long it’s been around. It’s just a very light, ethereal soliflore with a classical scent to it. And okay, the lemon makes it smell a little bit like window cleaner.

Reviewed in This Post: Lily of the Valley, 2009, Sampler Vial.


Juliette Has a Gun Lady Vengeance

Lady Vengeance triggered something bright and flowery in my head. I dabbed it on, aimed my nose at the back of my hand to sniff, and as it wafted into my nose and hit my smell receptors, my voice decided it couldn’t wait to form a good sentence as I proclaimed in a high-pitched voice, “It’s so pretty!” Lady Vengeance

In Bottle: Fresh and rosy and really pretty. Lady Vengeance is a young, bright, happy smelling rose scent that puts a smile on my face the instant I smell it.

Applied: Feminine and clean and speaks to the springtime. I had wholly expected Lady Vengeance to contain a note of darkness, of depth and dense rosiness but she’s a bright and happy character instead. A bit funny for the name but I can’t stay mad at something this peppy. Lady Vengeance starts off with a brilliantly bright and new bloomed rose. It reminds me of a freshly watered rose bush glistening with dew on a brand new spring day. It’s like soft rose soap cut with real petals. There’s a powderiness to Lady Vengeance but there’s very little of it and it works so well in this fragrance that you just end up smelling like a really good rose powder. There’s a slightly sweet and gentle hint of vanilla but it is predominantly a very well done rose. This is a sweetened rose, not a sugar rose–I might add. The latter is the staple of modern rose-based scents that rely on sugaring up the note. Lady Vengeance has excellent longevity, it clung to me all day and lent that gorgeous clean rose for hours and hours until the dry down approached where the powderiness gives way and I smell a couple of whiffs of smooth patchouli under all the awesome rose soap.

Extra: Juliette Has a Gun is a niche perfume line inspired by Shakespeare. It has ties to Nina Ricci. Mainly, the line was founded by Ricci’s grandson.

Design: Set in a very cute black bottle, Lady Vengeance’s packaging would hint at a dark rose. But there’s no darkness in this as far as I’m concerned. The bottle has lovely little etchings in it that conjure up images of tattoos and goths.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Italian rose, vanilla, patchouli.

Who would have thought a simple fragrance could be so well done? I am a big fan of Lady Vengeance and her pretty rose treatment. For $80 per 50ml and $110 per 100ml bottle. You can also get some pretty wicked looking purse bullets fragrance roll ones for $75. You will be hurting if you’re into this niche line but it isn’t as bad as some other choices out there that would have you proclaiming, “Eighty bucks? That’s nothing!”

Reviewed in This Post: Lady Vengeance, 2009, Eau de Parfum.


Ajne Fleur Blanche

Gardenia is hard to get right and if you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know I’ve been on the search for a really competent gardenia scent. My search is over!

In Bottle: Lush, white, creamy and sweet gardenia! This is actually gardenia and not tuberose trying on a mask. I am elated that I’ve finally found this.

Applied: A just mildly sweet, green floral gardenia scent. Has a slightly wilted quality to it, something I found just a bit strange but Fleur Blanche is quick to evolve into a heady, full-bodied giant white gardenia flower with a milky, woody backdrop. It’s smooth woods and soft creaminess, with just a bit of honeyed sweetness. This fragrance is not too sweet or silly or stilted or trying to pass off tuberose as gardenia. I can’t imagine a gardenia fragrance I’ve tried yet to surpass Fleur Blanche. It is simply a beautifully done soliflore and cannot recommend it enough if you want a glorious gardenia scent.

Extra: Ajne is an independent fragrance house headed by perfumer, Jane Hendler. They focus on 100% natural fragrances and avoid the usage of synthetics in their scents.

Design: Ajne‘s bottle design is beautiful. It reminds me of ornate temple designs in India and on expensive silk cloths. The filigree bottles are fantastic, they look luxurious, are easy to hold and use, and that’s not to mention the juice inside. I usually aim for the philosophy that simpler is better. But ornate, when done well, is absolutely precious.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Fruits, florals, woods.

Sorry about the notes but there wasn’t a whole lot to work with. Regardless, this fragrance is beautiful and well worth the effort to get. It is expensive, but keep in mind that these are 100% naturals we’re working with here which are expensive in and of themselves. Fleur Blanche has fantastic longevity, a great level of projection, and a beautifully complex character.

Reviewed in This Post: Fleur Blanche, 2009, Oil.


Guerlain Nahema

Released in 1979, Nahéma is like an ode to the rose. Nahéma is a rose explosion that calls up the vision of what a rose is supposed to be. Nahema

In Bottle: Lush rose in that familiar Guerlain smell. Beautifully dense and musky delicate roses. So sweet that for a moment I’m thinking I smell cherry or anise instead but it’s all rose from here.

Applied: Big and fantastic and familiar. The rose goes on strong, comes out of the gates yelling and makes itself known. This is what a rose is supposed to smell like. A little sweet, a little floral, clean and dewy. Tea rose is what I’m smelling, and tea rose to me has a lighter, sweeter fragrance often used as a subtle addition but in Nahéma is the primary focus. I get roses for hours and hours as Nahéma has some fantastic staying power. The dry down is a lovely sweet rose on woodsy base and that familiar Guerlain scent.

Extra: Apparently, Luca Turin in The Guide shares with us a little rumor. That Nahéma, the greatest rose fragrance in perfumery, was made without any rose oil.

Design: The image in this post is not the bottle design that I’m talking about in this section. The modern Nahéma bottle that I held and sprayed is a mostly flat, rather boring bottle design whose shape is reminiscent of Tommy Girl except lacking that third dimension. It’s dull, drab and uninteresting and I wish they hadn’t changed it from the old bottle. But the bottle certainly is functional at least.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore Oriental

Notes: Rose, peach, vanilla, woods.

Even if you hate roses I highly recommend giving this a sniff. If not so you can find the perfect perfume but to know what conceptual rose smells like. If the rumor is true, that Nahéma doesn’t contain any actual rose oil then the mind-boggling alone is worth a smell.

Reviewed in This Post: Nahéma, 2003, Eau de Parfum.


Annick Goutal Gardenia Passion

I suppose spring is coming to my nose, that means breaking out the florals and readying the fresh for summer. Gardenia has a sweet fragrance with that similar greenness to it that I notice in a lot of flowers. To me, it’s a crisp, young reminder of warming temperatures and budding leaves. Then you have Annick Goutal’s Gardenia Passion, the fragrance with the deceptive name. Gardenia Passion

In Bottle: Gardenia Passion is tuberose. Predominantly tuberose. So tuberose, in fact, that in the bottle I smell nothing but tuberose. Tuberose, tuberose, tuberose. This is so tuberose in the bottle that it beats out By Kilian’s Beyond Love. Though it lacks the finesse and gentle greenness of Beyond Love.

Applied: Strange sour, almost vinegar-like, note upon spray that lingers for a few minutes after application. That sour note is mixing with the sweetness in this fragrance and the powerful hit of tuberose. This makes for a pretty wickedly strange blend of sweet and sour florals. The sourness does go away eventually, letting tuberose shine through. I’m searching the murky waters of Gardenia Passion for its namesake but aside from that sweetness–which could be from the tuberose too–there’s not a whole lot of it to be had. I feel a little cheesed, honestly, because a fragrance named for gardenia should either have gardenia in it or at least have notes that illustrate the concept of gardenia. With the way this is going, it should have been called Tuberose Passion. Or Tuberose to Eternity. Nothing wrong with tuberose, just, where’s the gardenia? I get no mention of that elusive gardenia on dry down either. It’s just lighter tuberose with a vegetal background.

Extra: Now, I like tuberose. I think it’s an interesting blend of screech and whisper. Tuberose is a sweet, almost tropical scent. Sometimes, people mispronounce its name saying, “toober-rose“. It is actually, “toob-rose“. As for Annick Goutal, the company was started in 1980 by Annick Goutal and had a skin cream line prior to branching off into fragrances.

Design: Placed in a beautifully textured bottle with a ribbon tied to the neck. From that ribbon dangles a paper label with the name of the fragrance and house on it. The cap is colored gold, very lightweight, but comes off the sprayer nozzle very smoothly. The sprayer works just fine.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Orange blossom, tuberose, jasmine, gardenia, herbs.

It’s almost funny that this should be a soliflore, given the fact that its focus is on the wrong flower. But maybe that was the point. Maybe I’m just smell blind to whatever gardenia was used in this fragrance. Maybe I’m just nuts about tuberose and it is the only flower I will ever smell again.

Reviewed in This Post: Gardenia Passion, 2010, Eau de Parfum.