Caron Fleurs de Rocaille

Posted on by

I was wearing Fleurs de Rocaille around today to see how she’d do with a little bit of aging and stood a bit too close to a rather unimpressed young woman who upon catching a whiff of it proclaimed, “Someone’s wearing grandma’s perfume!” Ah, complete strangers making loud comments about my perfume. What a life. Fleurs de Rocaille

In Bottle: To be fair to the aforementioned young lady, Fleurs de Rocaille is old and she smells like she came from a different era for sure. She’s a classic from 1934 when she was composed by Ernest Daltroff.

Applied: Fleurs de Rocaille’s opener is a bit sweet for me thanks to the violet she also has a bit of headiness but she does smooth out.  She opens with a fantastic flair of aldehydes and florals, a very pretty rose note up top that stays throughout the scent. Then she settles down a bit. Not quite to the stage of modern perfumes with their clean, floral mid-stages or inoffensive fruity blasts. She’s a powdery, soapy, floral thanks to those famous aldehydes that everyone with a modern nose seems to equate to either grandmas or cat pee. I hope their grandmothers are cheap with their presents this year. Honestly, people, lay off the old ladies, would you? There’s a lot of florals to be had in this scent with the jasmine, rose, and narcissus playing the loudest among a group of green, softer flowers. Fleurs de Rocaille blends the florals so well with a very classic aldehyde rose build that settles into the base and end stage along with a very woody and warm amber scent.

Extra: Seems like the perfume industry loves to confuse its customers. There are two “Fleurs de Rocaille” scents. The one tested and reviewed in this post was Fleurs de Rocaille. There is another, more modern version, called Fleur de Rocaille. Note the missing plural. The more modern version was released in 1993.

Design: Fleurs de Rocaille’s bottle reminds me a bit of Annick Goutal’s ribbed bottles. The shape is similar and the cap’s ribbed shape is very reminiscent of Annick Goutal. I like it though. It’s a nice feminine shape with a pleasant weightiness and a good, simple, clean design. Nothing fancy about this!

Fragrance Family: Aldeyhyde Floral

Notes: Bergamot, palisander, gardenia, violet, oriss root, jasmine, narcissus, rose, carnation, lily-of-the-valley, ylang-ylang, lilac, mimosa, iris, amber, sandalwood, cedar, musk.

This little tester vial of Fleurs de Rocaille has actually been bouncing around my “to test” pile for a while. For some reason, I had convinced myself that I had Fleur de Rocaille instead of the older version.

Reviewed in This Post: Fleurs de Rocaille, ~1980, Eau de Toilette.

Dior Poison

Posted on by

Poison by Dior is one of those classics from the 80s that I don’t give a whole lot of run time to. Because I don’t like it. I tried to. I came around to Opium and eventually cultivated a reverence for Jicky, but when it comes to Poison, I am still left wondering why. I guess I just don’t like it! But I’m going to review it anyway because it is a well composed beast of a fragrance that remains one of Dior’s most popular perfumes. Poison

In Bottle: Smells sweet in the bottle, almost like cough syrup with a slight spiciness to it that layers over a faint woody presence.

Extra: Whew, Poison! You sure came in loud. There’s nothing quiet or gentle about Poison. She’s big, she’s bold, her volume’s all the way up and she isn’t afraid of share what she thinks. Poison starts off with a sweet plum and blossoms mix with a spicy blast that projects like crazy. The top notes are guaranteed to clear quite a bit of distance around you and create a Cone of Smell sort of thing as the mid stage comes in with a added dollop of spice that’s coated in jasmine, rose, and heliotrope. My favorite friend, tuberose also makes an entrance here. Dragging behind it is a very irate cedar scent. Amusingly enough the cedar in Poison is the type that teeters into loud and obnoxious territory but the rest of Poison is so loud and bold that the cedar smells almost tame on me. Once the sweetness and fruitiness of the opening calm down we get into the end stage where Poison is a spunky lady that smells of incense and sophisticated florals holding onto cough syrup in one hand while she applies lipstick with the other.

Extra: Poison was the original in a rather lengthy line of flankers. In addition to the original, we’ve got Poison Tendre (green), Hypnotic Poison (red), Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle (also red), Midnight Poison (blue), Pure Poison (white). And that’s not including the elixirs. Clearly when Dior decided to go bold and different with the first Posion in 1985, they really hit it big.

Design: Poison’s bottle is in the shape of an apple and the glass is purple. Seems to be a popular motif for perfumes here, apples and forbidden fruits and whatnot. I do like the design of Poison’s bottle, even the blatant use of the symbolism is okay with me because the bottle is beautiful, feels nice to hold and is decently easy to handle.

Fragrance Family: Spicy Fruity Woodsy

Notes: Coriander, cinnamon, orange blossom, honey, pepper, plum, rosewood, rose, tuberose, wild berries, cistus labdanum, carnation, jasmine, heliotrope, cedar, vetiver, musk, vanilla, sandalwood, opopanax.

I’m pretty sure Poison’s tendency to smell a bit like cough syrup is what’s keeping me from this fragrance. But don’t let that stop you, she’s  big and brass and if you’re looking for that, definitely give her a try.

Reviewed in This Post: Poison, 2007, Eau de  Parfum.

Robert Piguet Fracas

Posted on by

If you want tuberose, you usually don’t have to look far. The fragrance industry is inundated with tuberose scents. From the highest end to the shower gels. Sometimes tuberose is even masquerading as gardenia. But if you want a really bold, really classic, very true tuberose, you get Fracas. Fracas

In Bottle: Powerful hit of sweet tropical, juicy, slightly rubbery tuberose. Fracas is very strong. I want to come out and warn you of that right away or I would feel bad. Aside from its strength it’s a lovely thing. It smells like the times must have been like back then, elegant and classy with a bold streak.

Applied: Wet rubbery tuberose with a sweetness added to it. This smells like a giant bouquet of flowers with a dominant tuberose the size of a skyscraper. The flowers, despite all their best efforts, are secondary to the tuberose that’s so massive and appealing that it can’t really scream any louder than it does in this fragrance. Unlike most people, and you shouldn’t go by what I say, I don’t consider tuberose as a sultry flower. It smells like slick rubbery floral to me and that’s about as far as I can take it. If you do happen to think tuberose smells sultry, then Fracas is sultry in a bottle. As the scent progresses, you start to wonder if it will ever end as not only is Fracas fantastic in terms of projection, its longevity is to be complimented too. There’s a subtle spiciness to Fracas if you wait her out long enough which gives the tuberose something to talk to as up until that spiciness, all I had was a big white floral.

Extra: Fracas was released in 1948 and is a classic by all accounts and purposes. It has become the go to scent for tuberose and its reputation is well deserved. It has survived this long as a reference and a piece of history and I’d like to believe it’ll survive for a good six decades too if you never wash it off.

Design: The eau de parfum is bottled in a fairly plain black bottle with hot pink lettering depicting the fragrance’s name and house name. Not Earth shattering in appearance but you don’t buy Fracas for the bottle.

Fragrance Family: Floral

Notes: Green notes, mandarin, bergamot, hyacinth, geranium, peach, tuberose, jasmine, orange flower, white iris, lily of the valley, violet, jonquil, carnation, coriander, balsam, vetiver, orris, sandlawood, moss, cedar, musk.

If someone hadn’t pointed me to that massive list of notes, I never would have believed it. Just as a point of interest because I know someone might be looking for this, you pronounce Robert Piguet like, “Row-Behr Peeg-Gehy”. You pronounce Fracas as, “Frah-Cah”.

Reviewed in This Post: Fracas, 2002, Eau de Parfum.

Yves Saint Laurent Opium

Posted on by

It was bound to happen one day but we were all hoping it wasn’t this soon. Opium has been (quietly) reformulated into a shadow of its former self. So it is with this review that I bid goodbye to an old classic and an icon of oriental fragrance. Opium

In Bottle: Heady, rich, deep and spicy. Opium is not a time waster. She’s a woman of drastic sophistication and daring. Often referred to as sexy and mysterious. This fragrance opens with a big spicy kick followed by a huge wave of thick resinous amber.

Applied: Cinnamon and amber upfront as Opium’s opener flares instead of rolls. This fragrance announces its presence with a capital A. You want a powerhouse? Opium’s your gal. She’s no meek, slinking fruity floral girl in a white dress. She’s decked to the nines in diamonds and blood red pumps. The ambery cinnamon scent sticks around in the background giving Opium a smooth and punchy background while the heart notes of powdered jasmine, rose and dark myrrh flood the middle. Opium’s a strong and long lasting fragrance that you’ll struggle through if you don’t like it. The heart sticks around for a very long while before the dry down of deep, dense woodsy patchouli and myrrh base join that ever present spice and amber with the faded floral hearts. Even then it takes Opium a long time to completely fade with its mixture of base notes.

Extra: It takes a while to love Opium. A fragrance fanatic or an individual born into the era when Opium reigned would find it easy to appreciate this but someone young and inexperienced coming into the scene needs to be gently introduced. I got myself acquainted with Shalimar before I could brave Opium. And I’m glad I had a classic bottle to do it with. The new Opium is a slightly damaged affair. It smells younger, but more vapid. Like its missing some of its daring in exchange for modern ease.

Design: The most well-known bottle of Opium (at the moment anyway) is a thin pretty glass flacon with the signature Opium colors and designs on it. I’ve always though the bottle was beautiful and I was happy to note that Opium’s sprayer nozzle (unlike its flankers) was metal.

Fragrance Family: Oriental

Notes: Mandarin orange, bergamot, lily of the valley, jasmine, carnation, myrrh, vanilla, patchouli, opoponaux, amber.

Opium was quietly reformulated in and around the time its new bottle (the current look) was released. Quiet reformulations of old fragrances is not a new thing. It happened to many fragrances and will continue to happen due to industry regulation changes, materials availability, and a slew of other consequences that a fragrance lover may never come to terms with. Thanks for a good thirty years, Opium.

Reviewed in This Post: Opium, ~1990, Eau de Parfum.

YSL Opium Fleur Imperiale

Posted on by

Still working up to my ultimate appreciation of Yves Saint Laurent’s Opium. I decided that since I wasn’t able to work myself up to Opium yet, I should start with Opium Light, as I call it. Otherwise known as the limited edition Summer Opium Flankers that feature Fleur Imperiale. Opium Fleur Imperiale

In Bottle: Definitely Opium based but the original fragrance has been reduced from its big flashy self to a lighter pleasant base for a layer of clean and sheer woods.

Applied: Neroli and Jasmine make a first impression as the Opium base matures and sticks around for the mid and dry down stages. Over Opium there is a nice, dusty sandalwood that covers the fragrance in a clean twang. The rest is handled by dry osmanthus and cleaned up myrrh. At its heart, this is a more flowery version of the original Opium. Carnation is used sparingly in this giving the fragrance a bit of floral spice. Not a lot though so if you were concerned about it, don’t be. Fleur Imperiale smells exotic. Like a nap under the shade of a tree in a desert  palace. It helps that Fleur Imperiale is a dry, warm, clean scent as its approach on dry down is a parched but beautiful myrrh-backed, golden vanilla amber.

Extra: Great introductory fragrance to Opium, the classic. Even though this is a flanker one wouldn’t venture to purchase a flanker if they didn’t like original Opium. I urge you to try the summer limited editions, however. Particularly Fleur Imperiale and Shanghai. They are toned down and more sheer. Great for anyone hesitant and anyone who wants to come to understand and appreciate Opium for all its earthy, spicy goodness.

Design: I love the design on this bottle. It’s shaped like Opium with pretty red flowers on the glass. My major complaint, however, is the plastic sprayer and plastic cap. Okay, the plastic caps are common and I should stop raging about those now. I can dig that. But a plastic sprayer? Come on. Every time I go to spray this stuff, I’m worried the plastic sprayer is going to somehow break or worse yet, break off. The plastic sprayer just feels and looks cheap. I’d like a hardware upgrade (too late for that) but other than that, Opium Fleur Imperiale is a pleasant thing to behold.

Fragrance Family: Floral Oriental

Notes: Mandarin orange, neroli, bergamot, carnation, jasmine, apricot blossom, amber, patchouli, vanilla, osmanthus, woods, myrrh.

I was very  impressed though a little disappointed by how similar Fleur Imperiale and Fleur de Shanghai are. There is a minor difference though as Imperiale is decidedly warmer and lacks the gentle sweetness.

Reviewed in This Post: Fleur Imperiale, 2006, Eau de Toilette.

Guerlain L’Heure Bleue

Posted on by

Another Guerlain Classic, L’Heure Bleue was created in 1912 with a little story about the inspiration behind L’Heure Bleue. Even though the story came to be a while after the fragrance did.

L’Heure Bleue, being an old classic of the Guerlain classics family finds its niche in such greats as Shalimar, Jicky, and Mitsouko. It has that definitive Guerlain base to it that makes fragrance lovers–well, anyone who’s smelled more than one classic Guerlain–instantly know where it’s coming from and what levels of history they can expect. L'Heure Bleue

In Bottle: That Guerlain signature scent is present in pretty much every classic they’ve put out. Though the base is a bit masked in the newer creations, it is the base that sets the stage for the old perfumes. L’Heure Bleue is no different. I get the base immediately, followed by neroli’s powerful presence, and the spiciness of carnation.

Applied: The base is the first to fade to the background but it never goes away. Neroli is up front and center followed by the spiciness of carnation. It’s strange how a fragrance can make one feel warm or cold. L’Heure Bleue feels cold. It’s a reflection of its namesake, the twilight hour when the land is coated in blue. The name itself is a dead giveaway, L’Heure Bleue translated to “Blue Hour”. And like most classic fragrances, I often have a hard time deconstructing them because they’re blended to discourage deconstruction. I can only get the feeling and have this mental block telling me that’s silly to try to describe it beyond that. So what I can say of this experience is that this starts off as a chilly citrus. It maintains the chilliness as the citrus melts away into a very classic fragrance with dominant notes of neroli, carnation, and a vanilla base that’s barely detectable.

Extra: One thing I’ve noticed with most people’s reactions to L’Heure Bleue is the aversion to a particular note. L’Heure Bleue, more so than other classics, is referred to as an “old lady perfume”. There’s a correlation there, I think. In particular, the neroli note derived from the bitter orange tree. To me, it smells extremely similar to the more acceptable, bergamot. By the way, wondering how to pronounce this? Here you go:  L’Heure Bleue (Lehr Bloo).

Design: The bottle of L’Heure Bleue I own is nearly as small as Mitsouko but I do own more of this juice. I find it more wearable than Mitsouko, personally. Even though some people would try to tell me I smell like an old lady. The bottle really is very similar and quite frankly, there’s not a whole lot to say beyond that. Mitsouko is a slightly greener, cooler color whereas, L’Heure Bleue (funny enough) is a warmer color. I find the bottle design to be more fitting for Mitsouko but I still appreciate the elements of it.

Fragrance Family: Floral Oriental

Notes: Bergamot, neroli, clove, jasmine, carnation, cedar, musk, vanilla.

Slowly working my way up to Shalimar whose initial burst still puts me off and it is the initial burst in that one that does it. I’m sure she’s beautiful once she settles down. In the mean time, I’ve got L’Heure Bleue, a fun fragrance to say and a beautiful, grown-up classic.

Reviewed in This Post: L’Heure Bleue, 2007, Eau de Toilette.