Nuit de Noël (1922)
by Caron

Not all Caron fragrances are masterpieces but they all share one very important characteristic: They are totally unpretentious. Nuit de Noël may not be the most spectacular EDT available but it is quite pleasant. And since it is not very popular nowadays, those who can wear it well can really make a statement. NdN cannot be compared to anything else on the market now except maybe some early 20's fragrances such as Chanel No5 (although very remotely). I just don't get the name though. My mother wore NdN a few times on Christmas Eve (as a conversation piece, essentially) but I cannot say that I find it particularly christmassy. To me, a fragrance with a Christmas theme should include notes such as nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, orange peels, spruce, hot buttered rum or gingerbread. NdN has no such notes in it's olfactive pyramid:

Top notes : ylang-ylang, tincture of rose and jasmine
Middle notes: sandalwood and oak moss
Base notes: musk and amber

Nuit de Noël is a simple yet quite pleasant fragrance and I think it deserves a little more credit. I am glad most of us here gave it a good review!

24th December, 2011.

Chypre is my favorite type of fragrance, and I consider myself fortunate because, no matter the variances of note construction the first, middle, and last thing I smell of a good chypre is… “chypre.” I don’t much of an opening, I get a bit of jasmine, some aldehydes, some woods, a significant animalic vibration, and some moss: What I get is 100% chypre: This one is the of the brightest, chypres I’ve tested. I think the brightness is caused by aldehydes of the opening and the ylang of the heartnotes. The result is a soft, delicate warm with a gentle sillage, bright florals, distant woods, and most definitely chypre.

Nuit de Noel doesn’t smell like Christmas to me. OK, its brightness and softness fit, but the individual notes aren’t of a generic Christmas venue. It smells to me like chypre, and it’s an excellent one.

9th January, 2011.

How heart warming it is to consider that in 1922 Ernest Daltroff called his latest creation "the Night of Christmas," or, as it is said in English, Christmas Eve. The hush that spreads over Paris on December 24th is something one should make a point of witnessing at least once. A certain inference we can make, those of us who have again and again walked through it, sometimes under the snow, is that, in 1922, France was so very much more French. Today and for as long as I can remember, the people of France have shown a very specific "Christmas Spirit," unlike that of other Catholic countries. Apparent is neither Italian exuberance nor any other kind of wild fervor, but more a kind of reverential distance, steeped in formal Orthodox Faith. In France, on the Night of Christmas, there is a sense of holiness that is palpable, and...touching. Caron's "Nuit de Noel" is appropriately dainty in its flight: Strangely evocative of the Angelic, it is the scent of frozen evening air gently wafting through full bodied red roses, somewhat overblown. This chill fades over the course of the flight, giving way to a kind of olfactive Divine Liturgy of incenses, with a resinous benzoin in the staring role. Ernest Daltroff must have suffered from a touch of nevrosis, for there is a kind of chaos remarkable in all of his creations, and not just a small dose of melancolia. Nuit de Noel is united to all the other Carons by it's shady cacaphony of notes, so many that the whole is somewhat perplexing, resulting in fragrances so intricate, they defy analytical description. Where Guerlain was always organic, Caron was kaleidoscopic. The name Guerlain also carried with it, and still does to this day, a vague tinge of bas bleu "compagnard" that Caron could never suggest, thus the myth of "Grandes Dames wore Caron and Coquettes wore Guerlain." Realistically, and from an intrinsically French point of view, this comparison should be interpreted more as "Paris High Society vs. life in the Provinces," or perhaps a kind of self-imposed exile from the norm.
It is safe to say that in 1922, very many considered Caron to be a more informed and refined choice of perfumerie than Guerlain, as difficult as that is to imagine today. When Couturier Patou entered the fragrance arena in the mid twenties, with blends available strictly to the clients of his Haute Couture salons, it is also likely that more Caron devotees jumped ship than did fans of Guerlain. Caron compositions are more like those of Patou, their density and overwrought structure having little in common with "Guerlinades." None of the Caron fragrances have aged particularly well, Nuit de Noel being no exception: There's a depth to it, a kind of neo-gothic romance that's all powder, silk, swan's down and rouge: A very Grande Dame indeed, perched at her dressing table surrounded by dozens and dozens of red roses, burning pastilles and furiously applying make-up, en route, perhaps, to a funeral on Christmas Eve, or so it appears to us today. Then, this emotional and highly dramatic depth was considered the very height of chic, much in the way wan fragrances that smell of watermelon are today. Admittedly, there is something slightly disquieting about discovering a charmeuse-clad Lady powdering her decolletage, arms, hands, face and neck on the alter of a Catholic cathedral in the midst of the solemn and Holy things that manifest on the night of Christmas: Thus is the confusion of Caron, an abstraction born of nevrosity, the hallmark of Ernest Daltroff. No Caron worthy of its name would ever just give itself over, for these are fragrances that could aptly carry the coveted banner of "bewitching." Acting very like the other Caron Greats, Nuit de Noel is a kind of stain: It never goes away-and must "wear off," a process that can last for days, over multiple baths, and noticeably vary each time it is applied: The same bottle of Nuit de Noel may wear differently from one day to the next, inexplicably, surprising the wearer as no other perfume I have ever experienced: Something about it is obviously overly reactive to body chemistry, itself an unpredictable mystery perhaps more easily explained and understood from a purely medical perspective.
Only the flight, a two hour affair, which itself has an identity all its own, could be considered remotely "wearable" by today's standards. For the rest of its 20 plus hours, Nuit de Noel will most definitely not go unnoticed. This is a Great Perfume with complexities that are guaranteed to be misinterpreted and very sadly not remotely understandable to most modern noses: Rather than evoking the sublime and holy hush of a snowy Paris night at Christmas, it may awaken memories of a funeral parlor engaged in a very religious open-casket wake, or, alternately, a silent movie-era vampire drama, both veiled in heaps and heaps of make up, and a dim, candle-lit gloom. A very solemn hymn is Nuit de Noel--and the enigma of a wildly attractive and ultra-chic sensation of a scent, no doubt considered daring and sexy in its time, that somehow ended up being conceivably the perfect choice for a dignified and pious woman in morning desirous of solitude. One of the last commercial perfumes to have retained its bottle and packaging unaltered to this day, and a beautiful bouquet of quiet, introverted thoughts, Nuit de Noel is a treasure for being the very precise illustration of a reverent culture that is out of the question today. Hopefully, we will find it in our hearts to be thankful for it, and, in the True Spirit of Christmas, be wonderstruck, if only for a mere fleeting instant. From deep within the blackness, and through the chill of a cold winters night, a distant and alien star mysteriously shines: Do you see what I see?

25th December, 2010.

A softer less urbane version of Chanel no 5 this fragrance has a certian country elegance to it picturing oak
trees lined side by side riding in a open horse drawn carrige to an elegant
southern plantation full of white magnolias or going to a ketucky Derby wearing your finest.

The opening has a aldehydic note next
is the scent of bergamot and at it's base is rose gives it a powdery texture
unlike chanel no 5 caron's nuit de noel
avoids the clinical amount of Aldehydes
and sharp citruses and adds a warm amber note that is inviting.
this is perfect also winter and christmas eve parties.

9th October, 2010.

I came across a beautiful vintage black art deco bottle of this perfume today and I was wowed. It is so rich and warm. Spiced rum and sweet amber mingling with a touch of musk, cocoa and tobacco is what comes to mind. I think the vintage cologne would be a wonderful fragrance for a classic gentleman as well (especially those favoring Taylors). Evening fragrance for certain. Absolutely enchanting.

21st September, 2010.

(Parfum Review)

I'm beginning to think Caron is the cat of all fragrance houses. You can put it on, give it a scritch, even tell it you've missed it since you last wore it; and it still won't play nice until it's good and ready.

This has one of the longest wait times I've seen to turn pleasant- two hours! Yes, i spent two whole hours thinking i found a Caron stinker. But nope, after it's cat nap it sent a little jasmine purr my way, playfully wrapped in that Caron base that I've come to love.

I find it hard to believe that the florals are the top notes, because I can't detect them at all until well into the middle act. But when they appear, ooh, what another gorgeous fragrance. If you like a soft jasmine this is a good one to try. This is not my favorite Caron, as I like darker, more 'rounded' scents (like Or et Noir), but an appreciated fragrance, certainly.

28th April, 2010.