Estee Lauder Youth Dew

Youth Dew by Estée Lauder was released in 1953 as a bath fragrance and for years, it was the fragrance that women reached for much like Light Blue by Dolce & Gabanna is reached for today. Youth Dew’s popularity might be waning with the ages, but it remains a relevant piece of fragrance history. Youth Dew

In Bottle: A citrus scent with a kick of something heady and dark underneath. Youth Dew has this shadowy undercurrent that’s very endearing to it for me but it’s also this shadowy undercurrent that a lot of people would say this smells like grandma or some other silliness like that.

Applied: Initial blast of citrus and aldehydes receding into a spicy, mature floral scent that echoes that darkness in the juice. Like with most aldehyde-based scents for me, they never really go away and end up lingering throughout the fragrance. The florals hover around the animalic and dirty. A lot of modern fragrance wearers find this offensive because perfumistas refer to this “animalic and dirty” note as “indolic”. Indole being found in either jasmine or clove and in Youth Dew’s case, probably the clove. Maybe even both! The gloves are off on this one. The spice and florals do little to temper the indole in Youth Dew but if you let it stay on long enough and focus, a strange thing happens–it becomes easier to understand. Youth Dew isn’t “smelly grandma”, it’s a complex, daring fragrance that you aren’t going to get with your Light Blues or your Circus Fantasies. If you really wanted sexy, this is probably the stuff. It smells like what it is and you can accept it or get out as far as Youth Dew is concerned. Anyway, after the mid-stage that indole note hangs around for a bit into the dry down that, to me, smells mostly of patchouli trying desperately to clean up the mid-act.

Extra: Youth Dew is a strong fragrance. It comes on strong and leaves a strong impression and it’s gotten something of a bad rap over the years. People call it, “granny juice”, “hell juice”, “smells like corpse” and a multitude of other things. But Youth Dew is a piece of history, whether these people like it or not. But please, Youth Dew lovers, go easy on the trigger.

Design: Youth Dew is bottled in a ribbed glass affair with a bow tying it in the middle where the bottle gets a little thinner. It’s topped with a golden metal cap that has some detailing near the top. I can see its concept borrows from the figure of a woman and appreciate its subtle homage more than Gaultier’s bottles which are often more literal. In general, a simple design but an effective and memorable one.

Fragrance Family: Oriental

Notes: Aldehydes, orange, peach, bergamot, cinnamon, cassia, orchid, jasmine, clove, ylang-ylang, rose, tolu balsam, peru balsam, amber, patchouli, musk, vanilla, oakmoss, vetiver, incense.

I’ll come clean, I don’t like the smell of Youth Dew. But I don’t hate it either. It’s not a fragrance I can really see myself wearing because I can’t get past the indole in this stuff but it is a classic through and through and if nothing else, you gotta give credit to this classic.

Reviewed in This Post: Youth Dew, 2000, Eau de Parfum.


Guerlain Mitsouko Vintage

After having read and heard about how beautiful vintage Mitsouko is, I had to get my hands on a half ml vial of the stuff to see how it was for myself. I like the new Mitsouko just fine but she pales in comparison to the vintage for good reason.  Mitsouko Baccarat

In Bottle: As fragrance restrictions were increased and time went on, something happened to Mitsouko. She doesn’t smell like this vintage and the difference is immediately noticeable. Vintage smells like a smooth fruity chypre, the peach is detectable, the chypre scent is distinct. It’s a beautifully layered, and beautifully composed fragrance that smells like rich history.

Applied: This smells heady, dense, very distinctly a chypre with a very smooth, soft peach note. This reminds me of Chypre de Coty for good reason, I can see how these two fragrances came about and I can smell how and why they were beautiful. It makes it even sadder that they don’t come like this anymore–Chypre de Coty being discontinued, Mitsouko having been reformulated into a sharp, powdery ghost of its former self. It opens with a gentle citrus with a touch of heady floral. It goes into the mid-stage into a smooth beautiful fruitiness with a soft peach scent intermingled with a rose and jasmine ensemble. Now, this isn’t peach in the Bath and Body Works sweet peach body mist kind of way, it’s a feminine but very grown up peach scent that lacks any silly girly-girl sweetness to it. The fade is a complex blend of oakmoss, spice and woods that makes Vintage Mitsouko smell so personal. Then there’s that familiar Guerlain base that lingers for an incredibly long time and makes me feel like I could totally pull off wearing a ball gown to a baseball game.

Extra: Any perfumista can write novels about vintage Mitsouko, but instead, you got me. What I can say about vintage Mitsouko is that it makes me sad in the way that smelling old vintages like this makes me sad. Because perfumes aren’t made like this anymore and it is a real shame.

Design: I do not own a bottle of vintage Mitsouko but I eye them very jealously. Guerlain has put their classic fragrance lines under a few redesigns over the years and they have always remained elegant and beautiful designs. Linked above is a newer bottle of Mitsouko. It’s a limited edition collector’s item dressed up in Baccarat and available for $7000. It is not how the original bottle looks. Too rich for my blood, and besides, I’d rather spend the money on a vintage. I always feel like something of a clown judging vintage bottles because I can only say that they’re beautiful and elegant and they certainly do not make them like they used to.

Fragrance Family: Chypre

Notes: Bergamot, peach, jasmine, rose, oak moss, spices, vetiver, woods.

I would love to own a bunch of vintage fragrances because I have yet to smell one I didn’t like. Vintage Mitsouko and its newer formulation is close. Guerlain did what they could with the new stuff but it isn’t the same. The new formulation is noticeably sharper, more powdery, and has a slight imbalance that doesn’t hit the mark quite as well as the vintage stuff.

Reviewed in This Post: Mitsouko, circa 1950, Eau de Parfum.


Avril Lavigne Forbidden Rose

Forbidden Rose is the second fragrance the people in charge of slapping Avril Lavigne’s name on things have come out with. Forbidden Rose’s tagline is, “Dare to discover”. Which I’m assuming is related to trying to unearth where rose comes into play in this fragrance. Forbidden Rose

In Bottle: I’ll give you guys a hint; there’s no rose note in Forbidden Rose. Probably where the ‘forbidden’ part comes into play is when it’s making it obvious that you’re not getting a rose out of this thing. This fragrance is more content being a fresh aquatic floral and not a whole lot else.

Applied: Funny enough there’s a brief blast of sweet vanilla and florals. After about five seconds, Forbidden Rose heads into its longest and blandest phase. The florals ramp up their game into sharp, clean scent that made my nose immediately fire off a screaming message in my brain that read, “This smells like Turquoise Seas by Calgon!” Upon smelling my twelve year–rather well-preserved–bottle of Turquoise Seas, I’m likely to agree with my nose. Then I smelled Calgon’s Morning Glory sitting next to it and Forbidden Rose seems to have borrowed from that as well. I don’t know if it’s the banality of the fragrance that makes it smell like a amalgamation of at least two Calgon body mists but Forbidden Rose isn’t daring me to discover anything except where it borrowed its notes from. It’s not an offensive fragrance by any means, in fact, being compared to a couple of body mists is a testament to how inoffensive this fragrance is. It smells like cleaned up flowers that have been scrubbed extra well. It’s easy to wear, but highly unexciting. And if you let it dry down, the sharpness goes away and you get a faint whiff of a typical sandalwood vanilla base with the ghost of that Amalgamation of Calgon Body Mist lingering in the back.

Extra: Don’t rush out and blind buy a bunch of body mists because of me. Like every fragrance reviewer–I don’t care who they are–their experience with the perfume may different from yours. So if you are going to do some rushing, rush to smell Forbidden Rose then try to seek out the two Calgons and see if they’re similar to you or not. Like most fragrances, you can never get an exact duplicate and there are differences between the three fragrances I mentioned but they are also similar enough to my nose that you could conceivably spend $8 on a bottle of body mist instead of $60 on a eau de parfum.

Design: Forbidden Rose has a cute presentation. The juice is a fun purple color. The glass portion of the bottle’s shape is reminiscent of the tall Thierry Mugler Angel bottle with the silver cap. While at the same time it gives a nice little homage to the other Avril Lavigne fragrance; Black Star. Forbidden Rose has a cute little black plastic rose as a cap. It is nice and pleasant to hold. Easy to spray. No complaints here.

Fragrance Family: Fresh Floral

Notes: Apple, peach, bourbon pepper, lotus flower, apple blossom, heliotrope, pomegranate, vanilla, chocolate, sandalwood.

It seems that those of you looking for a daring fragrance is going to have to keep looking when it comes to stuff with Avril’s name on it. I want to reiterate that Forbidden Rose does not smell bad. It simply smells pedestrian, which is not always a bad thing.

Reviewed in This Post: Forbidden Rose, 2010, Eau de Parfum.


Guerlain Cruel Gardenia

More hits from Guerlain’s exclusive and prestigious l’Art et la Matière line. Cruel Gardenia is one of those gardenia scents that reminds me of Annick Goutal’s Gardenia Passion in that if there is any gardenia in this, I am not smelling it.  Cruel Gardenia

In Bottle: Pretty enough, lightly floral and creamy with slightly powdered underbelly. It smells girly and pretty and delicate like a single flower. That flower isn’t gardenia though.

Applied: After the first application Cruel Gardenia starts to sink into my skin and proceed to disappear without fanfare. Odd experience for me as the first waves of understated fruity florally goodness give way to an airy violets and sweetness floral heart rotating around a lilting vaporous muskiness. Oh, hi, tuberose. I see you’re in on this too. How are you doing? See, Cruel Gardenia is not so much a fragrance about Gardenia as it is dedicated to breezy, clean and girly florals that focus around being pretty to sort of steer me away from the fact that if there’s gardenia in this then there’s very little of it. The fragrance dries down to a pleasant enough lightly floral, creamy but unsweetened dry vanilla.

Extra: The crowd’s still out on the best blended gardenia fragrance but I’m going to have to pass on Cruel Gardenia. There’s not enough in there to really justify this. Certainly not for the price anyway.

Design: Bottled much the same way as Tonka Imperiale, Cruel Gardenia is encased in a lovely rectangular glass bottle and comes with a regular sprayer and a pump atomizer. And like Tonka Imperiale and Spiritueuse Double Vanille, once you install the sprayers onto these bottles you can’t refit them into their original boxes. I am still peeved about that, yes.

Fragrance Family: Floral

Notes: Peach, damask rose, neroli, violet, ylang-ylang, white musk, tonka, vanilla,  sandalwood.

Maybe I’m being a bit harsh on these non-gardenia gardenia fragrances but I feel like I’ve been led on a wild goose chase. On the other hand, if you want to buy some fantastic, pure gardenia essential oil, Enfleurage’s looks mighty tempting.

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


Annick Goutal Petite Cherie

Petite Cherie is one of the most popular offerings from Annick Goutal. It’s sweetness, it’s pink, it’s girly and feminine and young. And at the end of the day you’ll want to smell Petite Cherie to remind yourself that there’s still plenty of time and plenty of joy left in this world. Petite Cherie

In Bottle: Lovely sweet and clean. Petite Cherie is the classiest of the sugary scents. It’s a beautiful light pink sugar scent that’s reminiscent of other sweet fragrances such as Envy Me and Touch of Pink. What sets Petite Cherie apart from the other sweet scents is its clarity and quality.

Applied: Initial burst of pear and other sweet fruits followed quickly by a sugar sweet mid-stage that is very fast to usher in. Petite Cherie lays down the law in sugar clean territory. A territory I really wish makers of sugary sweet fragrances would explore more often. What if you want to smell like a candy and a bar of soap? Usually with sweet fragrances that are billed as clean, I get sweet, sticky and sharp. Petite Cherie is sweet, airy and freshly clean in a green and pink sort of way. It’s like a fruit juice, or a sparkling water with fruity flavors. The dry down is a pleasant pink rose with its lingering sweetness.

Extra: Annick Goutal fragrances tend to have a relatively shorter shelf life than other fragrance lines. Some might attribute this to the higher percentage of natural oils used in the fragrances. Others might venture to suggest that it’s sprayer mechanism not doing a good enough job at sealing the perfume in. Whatever the reason, if you’re going to get an Annick Goutal, be aware that it may not keep as well as other perfumes. This does not mean that it’s inferior, however, just composed a different way.

Design: Bottled in that same lovely iconic Annick Goutal ribbed glass bottle, Petite Cherie shares the same gold ribbon label look as other fragrances in this line. Petite Cherie is also available in an adorable butterfly-style bottle.

Fragrance Family: Sweet Fruit

Notes: Pear, peach, rose musk, cut grass, vanilla.

I find this fragrance to be a very nice sweet clean scent. But I am still looking out for perfumes that aren’t at all sweet. I think my sweet tooth has finally had enough and wants something sweet with more complexity. This is just a beautifully done but rather simple scent that I would pick over any mainstream sweet fragrance.

Reviewed in This Post: Petite Cherie, 2008, Eau de Parfum.


Fruits & Passion Orchid

Evidently, many of Fruits & Passion’s eau de toilettes remain largely undiscovered. I have a hard time finding a complete database of their outputted fragrances though perhaps some of my difficulty has to do more with ignorance rather than Fruits & Passion’s tiny footprint in fragrance territory. Orchid is a sweet, floral, ambery fragrance, simple and fruit and just plain fun. Orchid

In Bottle: Sweet florals. The florals are a bit drowned by the amber in this fragrance and the perfume itself reminds me of L’Instant de Guerlain. Notice that this is now two fragrances that remind of L’Instant. Orchid’s amber note is a strong one and the blending to get the florals and ambers to work together favored the latter and this treatment shows in the bottle and will probably be the same story on skin.

Applied: Big and floral with the flowers disappearing on me sooner than I’d like. This is less orchid and more amber and something is trying to convince me that I’m smelling peach. A ripe, pink, very sweet peach. This fragrance ages and drys down very fast as its mid stage is characterized by that fading peach note while the amber gets a bit stronger. The dry down at the end has amber and a slight powdery note hanging out until all that’s left is the amber base.

Extra: Orchid belongs in a floral eau de toilette collection from Fruits & Passion. There are two other fragrances in the collection as Fruits & Passion tend to like going in threes. The other two are Rose, which smells very much of roses and Jasmine which I have not yet smelled.

Design: Orchid comes in a tall, thin rectangular bottle with designs embossed onto the glass. There is a cap for this fragrance. A matching plastic rectangular shape that I found nearly impossible to take off. As a result my bottle of Orchid is lacking a cap. The sprayer can be a little flaky, sometimes distributing so much scent that it drools but I have only had that happen a handful of times. By and large the bottle and sprayer work fine. The cap for my bottle was just awful though and I have opted not to use it.

Fragrance Family: Soft Oriental

Notes: Orchid, amber, musk.

Orchid is a hard fragrance to keep on the skin. Amber, to me, is one of those ethereal meant to blend into the background notes. That’s partly the reason why it’s used so often as a base because its purpose is enhance the natural scent of the skin. Now, I hesitate to even lump this fragrance in with the orientals. I mean, it’s amber dominant but that’s pretty much all.

Reviewed in This Post: Orchid, 2010, Eau de Toilette.


Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Aglaea

Here’s the thing with Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab (BPAL). It’s got a fragrance library that numbers into the thousands and is still growing to this day. It’s got a huge following with a huge set of fragrances spanning every single fragrance family you can think of and everyone reacts and has a slightly differing opinion of every fragrance because the oils smell different on everybody. This entire blog could be dedicated to just smelling and seeking out the entire BPAL library. But that’s a monumental task. What better place to start than with a very simple, very well-loved bottle of Aglaea?

Aglaea is a fruity, peachy, crystal clear and unfettered scent that brings simple joy to the table and all it expects back is the admission that, yes, it does smell like peaches. Aglaea

In Bottle: Sweet peaches with a very golden base and that slightly resinous scent mixed together. The musks must be very clear in this because I just can’t detect them at all. Myrtle seems like a lost cause because all I can detect in this is a very golden peach scent.

Applied: The peaches flare up as fruit notes tend to do and then promptly take a backseat (quite characteristically) to the golden amber that takes center stage. If you’re looking for a complex peach scent that melds into woods and morphs into a bouquet of florals or fruits, Alaea will sneer. It’s simple, and it asks to be kept that way to the point where I don’t even care to look for the musk, though there is something very slightly “real” about this. Real as in, it’s trying to tell me I’m smelling white musk. Something clean and complimentary.

Extra: Aglaea was the youngest of the three graces. Married to Hephaestus and spent most of her days prancing in green fields and being in famous sculptures and paintings such as Primavera by Sandro Botticelli.

Design: I can’t say much for most BPAL bottles as they do tend to look the same with varying labels. You can see in the photo that it’s a very unassuming amber bottle with a plastic cap and a gothic-esque printed label. That’s really all it needs.

Fragrance Family: Fruity

Notes: Peach, myrtle, amber, musk.

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is a young fragrance house that I can’t exactly file in the niche category. It sort of defies explanation in some ways so I prefer to call them a small and independent operation. Most of Black Phoenix Alchemy Labs’ fragrances are available on their website for $17.00 a bottle. Aglaea is a part of BPAL’s general catalog scents and is, therefore, generally expected to stick around in the foreseeable future. BPAL also comes out with limited edition scents.

Reviewed in This Post: Aglaea, 2009, 5ml Bottle.


Guerlain Mitsouko

I don’t think highly enough of myself to kick off this blog with a review of a Guerlain classic because I feel I’m particularly versed in olfactory luxuries. I just wanted start with a relatively agreed upon fragrance. A classic, in other words, where so many others have said what needed to be said and I’m just filling in an already overflowing gap.

Mitsouko is Guerlain’s 1919 debut girl. Formulated by Jacques Guerlain with a following that describes her with such words as deep, sensual, sophisticated, and mysterious.Mitsouko

In Bottle: The fragrance is so well blended that I have a hard time picking out any specific notes. This is not a bad thing as it means Mitsouko has that unique quality. She smells like something never smelled before. I immediately associate her with with the word ‘classic’ and ‘old world’. Old world being a very endearing term to me, of course.  It’s spicy, it’s woodsy, just a little floral and very lightly fruity, but it’s all of those things at once too. To separate the notes and describe them feels wrong.

Applied: Mitsouko’s initial application is a burst of complex florals and soft woodsy notes. In a manner of seconds, as if she shed her flower coat as she drifted from the air onto skin, Mitsouko begins to deepen. The woods and spices come up creating this miasma of scent that makes me think darkness, headiness, and shadows drifting in and out of a sunless forest. As she dries the woods and moss come up more, blending with the spices as the components practically meld together. It is easy to forget that this is a fragrance composed of different notes and the fruitiness that people love in this fragrance is the softening agent used to tame rather than dominate. It’s hard to separate the notes and what’s left is just Mitsouko as a whole.

Extra: So it is said that Guerlain’s Mitsouko is a homage to many things, the name, the novel, the woman herself. Most people seem to subscribe to the theory that Guerlain based Mitsouko on the novel, La Bataille by Claude Farrčre. Where the novel is now difficult to find, at least for an English speaker with no foothold in French, the fragrance lives on in those who continue to love her.

Design: Mitsouko’s bottle design, I suspect, is supposed to reflect its scent and the artistry of the time. It looks and feels like a piece of design history. It’s a piece that, to me, reflects the orientalism of the fragrance and while art and design has since evolved into abstract shapes, clean and sharp lines, with flowing bulbous nodes of color bold against white, Mitsouko’s bottle design is an echo from an era gone but never forgotten. The one thing about my bottle I dislike is the plastic cap which seems to be on par for most recent Guerlains. I would have liked for them to invest in some nicer caps but you can’t have it all.

Fragrance Family: Oriental Chypre

Notes: Citrus, rose, peach, clove, pepper, spices, oakmoss and woods.

I believe a modern fragrance lover, and I wholly admit myself as a rotten, no-good, fruity-floral loving modernist, would find it difficult to like Mitsouko. But liking and respecting are two different things to me. I own a bottle of Mitsouko, a small one, for the simple fact that it is a piece of fragrance history. Once in a while I’ll bring her out and try to analyze  the complexities of her nature and to assuage my guilt of not warming up to Shalimar yet (I’m getting there). I find her too deep for normal wear as the people I’m around most often tend to react poorly to her. It’s not their fault, and it’s not Mitsouko’s fault either. Mitsouko is to be appreciated for sure as one of those classics you’ve just got to try at least once because reviews just don’t do her justice. As for wearing her? That depends on what you like.

Reviewed in This Post: Mitsouko, circa 2008, Eau de Toilette.