Etro Royal Pavilion

Another sample that was sent to me from Steve at The Scented Hound. I wore Royal Pavilion to work one day, feeling like something ought to mix things up a little.

Royal Pavilion

Royal Pavilion

In Bottle: Jasmine, plenty of it mixed with ylang-ylang with a base of sandalwood and a pretty, juicy, mimosa.

Applied: I get the Ylang-ylang before I get the jasmine when applied. It flares up first and stays up, giving the scent this dusty floral vibe. The jasmine brings it down a little closer to familiar territory with a nice mimosa in the background and a rose that settles near the base. I had expected something else from Royal Pavilion. Perhaps more cypress or green. What it is delights me, however. With it’s classically beautiful floral and it’s nice sandalwood touch upon dry down. There’s warnings of civet and castor in this too, and I had a couple of faint whiffs as I sat in the back and wondered if anyone else noticed. Royal Pavilion was like a quiet, peaceful journey with a light bump at the end. It envelops you in lovely, classical floral notes then when you’re at the end and enjoying your sandalwood fade, a couple of small animal notes hits your nose just to make sure you were still paying attention.

Extra: I went into this knowing very little about Royal Pavilion. It was very much a random pick as I was running out the door in the morning. So I was surprised to find this was released in 1989 because I was going to peg it for a few years earlier.

Design: Bottled in much the same way as other Etro fragrances, in a very nicely shaped class flacon with a silver cap. Nice and simple with just enough design elements to impart “luxury” without any gaudiness.

Fragrance Family: Woodsy Floral

Notes: Jasmine, ylang-ylang, rose, mimosa, violet, sandalwood, vetiver, oakmoss, castor, civet.

Lovely scent, very excited that something from the late 80s is still around and kicking. Kudos, Etro!

Reviewed in This Post: Royal Pavilion, ~2012, Eau de Toilette.


Yves Saint Laurent Kouros

Every time someone asks for a strong, long-lasting fragrance marketed toward men someone else is bound to suggest Kouros.

Kouros

Kouros

In Bottle: Holy cow, it’s strong. Yeah, I’d say it lives up to its reputation. Bergamot, I think is what I’m smelling with a lot of aldehydes and some drowning florals.

Applied: All right, I understand why a lot of people hate this fragrance. They were kidding when they said it was strong. If you were thinking of getting this because you wanted a strong (with italics and everything) fragrance then Kouros will make you happy. Well, it’ll make you happen if you happen to enjoy powerful animalic fougeres. Kouros starts off with a big hit of bergamot that’s bolstered with a ton of aldehydes and a spicy herbal treatment that adds to the masculinity of the fragrance. You’re going to see a lot of hyperbolic language in this post because this stuff is strong. Period. It’s a bit screechy at first, and if you’re not used to strong fragrances, you will get a headache or your nose will be overwhelmed. Let Kouros rest on your skin for a while and it’ll develop into a deeper more animal fragrance that introduces another round of spices and a bit of incense. This is complex defined with its classical personality paired with an 80s Powerhouse underbelly. The dry down never seems to come with this stuff as it’s just so strong and so dominant that I can only say by the time I had to shower it off, it still smelled finely of smoke, musks, spice, florals and confidence.

Extra: Kouros was released in 1981. Named after a Greecian statue that typically depicts a youth in a standing pose.

Design: Not the most interesting bottle to look at, but I do notice the relative simplicity of men’s fragrance packaging compared to women’s fragrances. Kouros is a fine design though. It’s simple but functional, would not look out of place on a man’s wardrobe or wherever he chooses to use his cologne. It’s nice to hold, easy to use, and has an excellent sprayer.

Fragrance Family: Fougere

Notes: Aldehydes, artemisia, coriander, clary sage, bergamot, carnation, patchouli, cinnamon, orris root, jasmine, vetiver, geranium, honey, leather, tonka bean, amber, musk, civet, oakmoss, vanilla.

Despite being so strong Kouros hits a nice and reasonable ground with me so that I don’t find it repulsive and strong. It’s a good fragrance, it’s very strong, and it’s considered close to the classics. If you can handle it’s strength then you’ll be very happy with it.

Reviewed in This Post: Kouros,  ~2000, Eau de Parfum.


Dior Diorissimo

Diorissimo is a classic from the 1950s before Dior went the youth route and replaced their hard hitting fragrance lines with stuff like Miss Dior Cherie. I smell Diorissimo and miss the days when it was okay for a fragrance to be heavy and heady.

Diorissimo

In Bottle: Florals with a slight sting of citrus up front and a coating of animalic civet in the background.

Applied: Fresh and green with a citrus opening and that smell of leaves and dew. The lilies come in during the mid-stage and in the final act of the opening and proceed to dominate the fragrance. The lily scent in the middle is very noticeable, clearly the stars of the show as the fragrance settles into this heady floral lily mixture that’s just unrelenting. I still get a bit of that fresh green leaf scent that present when this fragrance was first applied but the civet can’t stay hidden forever. It creeps up as the fragrance gets warmer and dirties the scent up quite a bit. At times I’m wondering who let the mongoose into the garden as the civet is a bit disturbing but at the same time feels like it belongs. The dry down introduces a bit of sandalwood, scenting together with the lilies as the two do a little good against the ever-present civet.

Extra: Diorissimo is still available in its Eau de Toilette form and for the most part, it smells similar now to when I first smelled it in the 90s and, all things considered, it is available for a fairly reasonable price. You can also hunt down the Parfum concentration, though I’m told it’s more rare, more expensive, and even headier than the EdT.

Design: Bottled rather simply but has a classic elegance to it that says this stuff doesn’t need frills and gimmicks to look good and be good. I like the simplicity of it all. The brush script I can take or leave but the overall design is pleasing and nice.

Fragrance Family: Classic Floral

Notes: Bergamot, leaves, rosemary, lily, lilac, jasmine, lily of the valley, ylang-ylang, civet, sandalwood.

I’m not sure how to treat the civet in Diorissimo. It’s not heavy enough to be a deal breaker, but I do notice it and it does put me off a little. Regardless, if you like a little civet here and there Diorissimo is a beautiful classic that’s survived the times–mostly–in tact.

Reviewed in This Post: Diorissimo, 2005, Eau de Toilette.


Animale 1987

Animale is an interesting fragrance to explain. It’s sort of a chypre, it has all the classical stylings of a chypre but with an extra added jolt of pure dirty, animal smell. Oh, don’t get me wrong here. It’s fantastic stuff.

Animale

In Bottle: Heavy, heady, powerful. Three words you’ll probably used to describe animale. Even in the bottle, this stuff is strong. I get civet immediately mixed with a blend of florals. It has that decidedly unique chypre scent to it as well.

Applied: Starts off with a big of bergamot. Barely enough to even detect as Animale develops the civet slowly and carefully but the civet is strong and the civet definitely makes this scent smell dirty and animalic. The animalic notes in this creep up rather than blast you full on right away like it does in the bottle but you’ll be smelling full-on animal before you know it. On skin, civet takes its time at first as the fragrance moves into a mid-stage that’s incredibly reminiscent of a chypre with jasmine making a loud proclamation as the civet creeps in more and more, amping up the volume. The rosewood, adds even more dirty with a little woodsiness in case you didn’t think civet was enough. This is a chypre but it’s a distinct dirty chypre that will march to its own beat if it wants to. As the fragrance dies down, there’s a smooth patch of oakmoss and vetiver layered over that civet note that I had been too distracted to notice. The civet’s used rather well here, but the dry down does bother me a bit with this slick, almost oily scent. I imagine that was the coconut making its way in. So opening and mid-stage are fascinating. End stage is great save for that weird slick scent I got. Still, Animale is fantastic if you like heavy, powerful, heady fragrances.

Extra: Animale, the brand began in 1987 which was also the time that original Animale (reviewed in this post) was created. In 1990 the company was sold, and in 2004 it was sold once again. Sometime during the 1990s, Animale shifted away from being a chypre and became more of a floral oriental. I liked it a lot more as a chypre.

Design: Very 80s! Brings back fond memories of elementary school, and TGIF shows. I’d huddle around this tiny TV with my cousins and we’d watch Family Matters, Full House, Fresh Prince, and a whole host of other family-friendly sitcoms. Long story short: This bottle reminds me of late 80s and early 90s aesthetics and fashion. I think the word I want here is ‘funky’. Not necessarily well-designed as I imagine people these days would consider this kind of aesthetic hideous. The bottle design hasn’t aged well, that’s for sure. As for me, I grew up in the late 80s and 90s so I’ll let someone else harsh on this bottle.

Fragrance Family: Chypre

Notes: Coriander, hyacinth, bergamot, neroli, carnation, honey, orris root, rosewood, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily of the valley, rose, patchouli, coconut, oakmoss, vetiver, civet, musk.

Now that the review and nostalgia are all over, would I wear Animale? Probably not. The civet really turns me off on the fragrance. I’m a big baby when it comes to civet, almost always I find it too strong and I’m no where near confident enough to rock civet. That doesn’t mean Animale isn’t fantastic. I like it for what it is, but maybe that’s part of the nostalgia talking.

Reviewed in This Post: Animale, ~1989, Eau de Parfum.


Calvin Klein Obsession for Women

Call me crazy, but I don’t like Obsession for Women. I like the men’s version a bit better but both of them fell off my radar and into ‘Eh, don’t like it and can’t get myself to’ territory. Much like how Poison by Dior ended up there.

Obsession for Women

In Bottle: Warm and spicy, very reminiscent of Opium but not as smooth or as smoky. I smell the animalic in this up front too.

Applied: Obsession opens with a slight spray of green citrus which is quickly joined by the civet note. Civet is used well in most perfumes, often as a touch of sensuality and Obsession is no exception. Anyway, after the light citrus and civet open up, the fragrance digs a bit into a fruity jasmine and rose blend dolled up with a lot of spiciness. There must be cloves or cinnamon in there somewhere. Obsession’s projection, by the way, is very good as is its longevity. You’ll be waiting a rather long time for it to dry down but the fragrance dries so naturally into a deeper woodsy floral amping up the civet a little and mingling those spices with a very warm amber quality to it and a slight smokiness that eeks itself into the scene at the very end.

Extra: Obsession was released in 1985 during the crazy trend with oriental perfumes.

Design: Obsession’s bottled in a oval glass with a golden liquid inside. The cap is a rich brown shade. The packing looks nice enough and a bottle of Obsession is definitely easy to ID. It’s clean, it’s simple, it’s pretty good.

Fragrance Family: Oriental

Notes: Green notes, mandarin orange, vanilla, peach, basil, bergamot, lemon, spices, coriander, sandalwood, orange blossom, jasmine, oakmoss, cedar and rose, amber, amber, musk, civet, vanilla, vetiver, incense.

Obsession is a well done perfume. I just want to get that out there, I just don’t like it because I believe it’s very similar to Opium and Opium did this concept better which makes Obsession seem rather unnecessary to me. But then, Opium is stronger, so if you liked it but thought it came on way too much, try out Obsession and see if this will work better for you.

Reviewed in This Post: Obsession for Women, 2004, Eau de Parfum.


Coty L’Origan

Sometimes, just because I’m immature, I like to pretend that Coty only came out with the good stuff and all the stuff they’ve made that’s been terrible just simply doesn’t exist. When I think of Coty these days, the first thing that pops into my head is Lady Gaga and everybody freaking out about her up and coming “blood and semen” perfume. I won’t mention our favorite friend from Etat Libre d’Orange but I will say that the Coty of the early 1900s could have taken “blood and semen” and turned it into something beautiful. These days, I kind of hope Gaga at least gets something that isn’t a fruity-floral. Oh, Coty.

L'Origan

In Bottle: L’Origan has that classic smell that you just can’t imitate these days. It’s dense and complex with a varying, slightly discordant mixture of big honking spices and florals up top.

Applied: Spicy on arrival with a floral touch coming up. There’s a very old-world style to the way this perfume goes on and starts to age. People have compared L’Origan to L’Heure Bleue–well,  I should say they compare L’Heure Bleue to L’Origan because Guerlain’s hit fragrance was released after this one. It’s similar in that both scents trail the same sort of fragrance with L’Heure Bleue exhibiting a much colder, more melancholy personality. L’Origan, to me, is warm and much more animalic. There’s a hint of animal in the opening there and I experienced hints of animalics throughout the livespan of the scent. It’s blended very well, though, not overpowering the scent but rather giving it a bit of sensuality and added depth. Another thing about L’Origan vs. L’Heure Bleue, it’s spicier with slightly less noticeable florals and it’s ultimately a brighter scent though its uses of the  spices are very familiar. There’s a powderiness to this that tends to show up in vintage fragrances as well as a heavy dose of clove. As L’Origan approaches dry down it maintains that spiciness the whole time the florals are totally gone but what’s waiting at the bottom is this thick, rich warmness that reminds me a bit of slick metals and mosses.

Extra: L’Origan was released in 1905 and still survives today–though in an undoubtedly heavily reformulated state. As always, vintage is leaps and bounds better.

Design: The original L’Origan was bottled in a flat glass bottle of a squarish shape with the Coty seal on it. I had a warm, amber-like color and was a bit reminiscent of Chypre de Coty in appearance. The modern bottle (pictured) is reminiscent of a flower bulb with a spiky crown for a cap. I have to say I prefer the old style better.

Fragrance Family: Spicy

Notes: Bergamot, orange, coriander, pepper, peach, nutmeg, clove, jasmine, violet, rose, ylang-ylang, orange flower, benzoin, cedar, incense, vanilla, sandalwood, musk, coumarin, civet.

Somehow L’Origan comes out as the happy side of L’Heure Bleue. These two could be best friends, though probably not sisters. I have to say, despite my love for L’Heure Bleue–I like L’Origan a bit more.

Reviewed in This Post: L’Origan, ~1950, Eau de Parfum.


Boadicea the Victorious Complex

Now, hey, I love Boadicea the Victorious’  Pure. I love the smelly excursions of this niche house. I just wish their stuff wasn’t so dang expensive for what you get. And then there’s Complex, which I think should have been named “Perplexing” instead.

Complex

In Bottle: Whoa, I think we have a contender for weirdest, most off-putting scent now. I know everyone gives Secretions Magnifiques that honor but Complex has the dirty, unpleasant smell thing going on right up front. Commendable, though I’m not so sure about wearable. And I’m talking abut unironic wearability here.

Applied: Bitter and green from get go with a very obvious and very loud civet presence. All this wrapped up in a thick blanket of choking smoke. This stuff isn’t for the weak–and I’m weak. I guess. It’s off-putting, it’s alarming. If I didn’t know they were trying to make this a wearable fragrance, I’d be saying Boadicea is trolling us all like Etat Libre d’Orange did. I’m sticking out with this one though. I refuse to let it call me a wuss. Complex is powerful, it’s a big projector too so while you wear this, wear it with confidence. Or wear it somewhere with lots of ventilation and not on an airplane. As I wait for the dry down, Complex does relatively little with its time as it remains predominantly animalic with a brush of sweet violets wavering in and out during the mid-stage. The violets do little to endear this fragrance to me, as the sweetness mixes with the smoky animalic personality of Complex to create this mess of fragrance that doesn’t go together at all. Dry down is marked with more civet (hey, it’s a strong component) as the fragrance ushers out with a bitter parting of the violets and the green. Meanwhile, you’ll be scrubbing for many a day to get the smoky civet off. This fragrance, to me, smells like baked roadkill. Which, I can’t decide, if this is better or worse than sweaty armpit. I’m going to say better–just barely.

Extra: I want to believe they did this on purpose–this making of a fragrance that challenges the concept of perfume and of–well, just smelling decent. I suppose if you are into fragrances that are, or should be, unwearable you can add Complex to the list.

Design: I do love the way Boadicea the Victorious bottles their fragrances. Pretty glass entrapped in intricate metal vines. The designs are reminiscent of Nordic and Gaelic art. Quite beautiful and interesting.

Fragrance Family: Dirty

Notes: Violet, labdanum, leather, musk, civet, basil, sage.

I never thought I’d label another fragrance under my imaginary ‘dirty’ fragrance family. But there you go. Complex is a powerful, high sillage smoky animalic with brushes of sweet violets and a really weird personality. Not my thing, can’t see myself wearing this, hope I don’t end up in an enclosed space with someone who does.

Reviewed in This Post: Complex, 2009, Eau de Parfum.


Jean Desprez Bal a Versailles

People hunt down bottles of Bal à Versailles to see what it smells like. I have to say some of these people probably do it because they’re curious about the perfume Michael Jackson wore. Hard to blame them for being curious, but amongst some of the more popular opinions include, “This doesn’t smell like how I’d imagine Michael Jackson would smell like” and “This smells weird”.

Bal à Versailles

In Bottle: It opens as an aromatic animalic. Love how that rolls off the tongue. Rosemary is prominent at first, followed by a very light dust of florals that are accompanied by a dark animalic undertone.

Applied: Get used to that dark animalic undertone as it will accompany you on your olfactory quest. The rosemary is quick to open up and for me, the rosemary stuck around in the top notes and fled as the mid-stage introduces a very classic smelling floral. Powder and flowers, sultry, dark, sensual. The florals are joined by a smooth series of woods that keep this fragrance somewhat unisex. This is a masquerade party in the form of a perfume. It’s classic, it’s sensual, but it’s not afraid to be elegant either. It’s a deeply complex little journey as the mid-stage slowly gets more and more sultry on entering the final round of its very interesting existence. The end stage is a mix of warm amber, smooth woods, and sensual musk.

Extra: Bal à Versailles was released in 1962 and ever since a certain King of Pop adopted it as one of his favorite perfumes, it has been known to many of his fans as, “That perfume Michael Jackson liked, but I don’t”. For the rest of us, Bal à Versailles is a beautiful piece of complex nose art.

Design: I like the shape of the bottle, very vintage looking. It’s beautifully designed and beautifully presented. I’m even okay with the Rococo-style painting on the bottle which at first glance seems out of place, but grew on me. It’s Rococo, how can I lose? For someone who doesn’t usually get on board with things like this, Bal à Versailles played just the right amount of right to make the design work. Not to mention the look of this bottle is so easy to recognize anywhere.

Fragrance Family: Oriental

Notes: Rosemary, orange blossom, mandarin orange, cassia, jasmine, rose, neroli, bergamot, bulgarian rose, lemon, sandalwood, patchouli, lilac, orris root, vetiver, ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley, tolu balsam, amber, musk, benzoin, civet, vanilla, cedar, resins.

Now, bear in mind that Bal à Versailles is not the most accessible fragrance out there in terms of going to a department store, slapping some money on the counter and saying, “I’ll have the usual, Tom”. I wish ordering perfume was like that. Anyway, Bal à Versailles is not as hard to find as one might think. It’s not everywhere like Britney Spears Fantasy, but it’s not squirreled away in an obscure niche like–heh–Bruce Willis Cologne either. You can easily find Bal à Versailles on discounter sites and some department stores. I recommend anyone interesting in fragrance to give it a sniff. And if you were wondering what one of Michael Jackson’s favorite perfumes smells like, well, there you go.

Reviewed in This Post: Bal à Versailles, 2003, Eau de Toilette.


Jean Patou Joy

Joy by Jean Patou, released in 1930, was busy being the most expensive perfume in the world during a time when a lot of people didn’t have much. It intrigued individuals for years who wondered what was in this magical juice that made it cost so much. These days, Joy is still pricey but no where even close to the most expensive perfume in the world anymore. Thank goodness. Joy

In Bottle: Roses. ROSES in all caps even. Joy starts out with a huge blend of roses layered heavily on top so that barely anything else can be discerned past this rose force field.

Applied: Roses still in the forefront but let it age a bit and I can smell the jasmine. It’s a gorgeous, full, heady jasmine that intermingles so well with Joy’s rose bouquet that the entire mixture has this bright, happy, scent to it. As the rose continues to calm down tuberose comes up to join the party. The florals remind me of a big bouquet, resting in a vase on a sunny day. Joy is what a perfectly paced perfume smells like as it evolves and morphs into this pretty flowery thing. This smells like optimism. Glorious, well-blended and well-made optimism that dries down eventually into a dusty sandalwood with a surprising presence of indole (our friend civet!) at the very end.

Extra: A part of me still wishes Joy held its title as the most expensive perfume in the world. It’s name is Joy after all. Instead, if you ask someone what the most expensive perfume in the world is, they’ll tell you it’s Clive Christian’s Imperial Majesty. A baccarat cased perfume that’s supposed to push for $215,000.  I doubt that’s worth the price of admission.

Design: Classic, elegant, simple bottle design. Joy has a nice weight to it and its simple, clear glass, plain label look reminds me of Chanel’s bottle design, but no where near as minimalist. It works and it will continue to work for many years. You simply can’t go out of style with a bottle that looks this classic.

Fragrance Family: Floral Classic

Notes: Rose, ylang-ylang, aldehydes, pear,  tuberose, jasmine, orris root, musk,  sandalwood, civet.

I think the question that remains is whether or not Joy was worth the hefty price tag it once sported. My answer? Well, not the juice, certainly the novelty of owning and using the most expensive fragrance in the world would be worth it for some people but I’m a bit more practical and think Joy’s present price point suits it well for the kind of scent that it is. As for that $215,000 thing we’ve got now? I’m curious but mostly apathetic. What juice could possibly be that good? Besides, most of the price tag has to do with packaging the thing.

Reviewed in This Post: Joy, ~1980, Eau de  Parfum.


Guerlain Jicky

So Jicky, what do you want me to say about you? Well, I ask because everyone the world over has already said what they wanted. It just seems I’d only add yet another opinion to the already loaded mix of what makes Jicky tick. Ah well, let’s give it a stab anyway. I started off this blog reviewing Mitsouko of all things! Jicky

In Bottle: Spicy lavender, warmed up and dotted with a slight citrus topper in the opening. Jicky is immediately alarming and comforting at the same time.

Applied: Initial flare up of citrus, a big yellow splash in the opening to get you ready for the lavender that rolls in soon after. The lavender really shines with Jicky for me. It’s normally a comforting scent, this lavender, but the Jicky lavender gets a bit indolic at times thanks to what I can only assume is the civet used in this. It’s very heady and frankly speaking, she doesn’t smell “right” but that doesn’t stop her from smelling awesome. For those of you not in the know, “indolic” is a polite term for “smells like poo”. Breathe past that minute note of “off-ness” and you’ll be rewarded with a spicy leathery quality to it. There’s definitely animalic swayings in this fragrance. It’s not soft and tender lavender for sure and if you were to drop this into a soap people would be wondering what’s wrong with you while at the same time wondering how they could get in on it too. This is dirty stuff but it’s classy stuff, and it amuses me a great deal. She doesn’t try to fruit it up or pass it off as some sort of therapy and just for that alone, Jicky should be given a crown. It’s simply you and lavender, leather, spice, and hilarious indole. And you had better take it. Jicky uses that full lavender with an air of sophistication and a sense of daring all the way into the closer where the lavender fades a warmed dusty tonka greets you at the bottom with that ever present indole. Something about Jicky smells familiar but at the same time incredibly lush and hard to grasp. If Jicky could talk, I imagine she’d say, “What? You don’t like it? Then it’s obvious you don’t get it and I’ll thank you for getting out of my way”. Yeah, that’s Jicky. She doesn’t care if you don’t like her. She knows she’s good.

Extra: I love Jicky. I don’t love how she smells because I am a self-professed, shame-faced lover of clean and easy to wear. But I love what she stands for and appreciate what she is. She’s an era in perfume long gone but stubbornly and regally embodied in her bold presence that just refuses to go quietly. She’s one of the few Guerlains that I will probably never wear simply because she’s too much for me. But I can appreciate her all the same. Especially for being so “in your face” with all the fresh, clean, fruity stuff being pumped out today. I find it delicious to imagine a group of bottles, a hundred or so in number, of celebrity fragrances could be placed on the floor in a room. And there might be a bottle of Jicky sitting in the middle, waiting for some unsuspecting person to come by, pick her up and get slapped in the face with all that she is. Never change, Jicky. Never change.

Design: Those of you familiar with the Nahema design will recognize the image above. Though it should be noted that Jicky most definitely came first. Beautiful bottle, classical look, wonderful feel. Pictured above is the parfum concentration placed into an fantastic, elegant flacon. It’s Guerlain at its best.

Fragrance Family: Classic Aromatic

Notes: Lemon, mandarin, bergamot, lavender, orris, jasmin, rose, patchouli, vetiver, leather, amber, civet, tonka, incense, benzoin.

You don’t really need me to rehash the romantic story of Jicky and her creation again, do you? Nah, I’ll just leave this post to say that if you were here and reading about Jicky, and were interested, there is a large online database of information readily available with a quick Google search about the conceptualization of Jicky, where you can get Jicky, and what–if anything at all–has happened to her in all these years since 1889 when she was first introduced. Or you can click here.

Reviewed in This Post: Jicky, ~1970, Eau de  Parfum.