Nahéma (1979)
by Guerlain

Nahema is often spoken of as a rose soliflore, but I think of it more as a spicy, fruity floral-oriental that’s just stronger on the rose than most. While Nahema’s heart contains plenty of rose, there’s just as much peach and cinnamon in the blend, plus plenty of Guerlain’s trademark vanilla holding up the base.

The powdery peach note aligns Nahema with both Mitsouko and Chant d’Aromes within the Guerlain constellation. In depth and weight it lies somewhere between the two – lighter than Mitsouko, but more dense than Chant d’Aromes. With its vanillic basenotes, it also happens to be sweeter than either. The same smoky vanilla and cinnamon meanwhile bear relation to Shalimar, though abundant aldehydes carry Nahema far from its elder sister’s dark viscosity. Among contemporary scents, Nahema also stands comparison with Amouage’s recent Lyric and Lyric for Men, which are likewise centered on spiced fruit and rose. Lacking the dark woods and incense of either Amouage, however, Nahema is a far softer, fresher, and more buoyant fragrance.

With its aldehydes, powder, and sweet fruit, Nahema strikes me as less comfortably unisex than Shalimar or L’Heure Bleue, and farh less so than the very gender neutral Vol de Nuit and Mitsouko. Lacking the crisp, refreshing green notes of Chamade and Chant d’Aromes, Nahema also reads to me as the most unabashedly romantic of the modern Guerlain florals. Nahema is potent stuff, radiating its larger-than-life rose and fruit for miles from the skin in its parfum concentration, and leaving great clouds of sillage behind it. If you’re going to wear Nahema, you’d better really like it, because everyone in the vicinity is going to know it’s there.

Viewed in historical perspective, Nahema’s central rose and fruit accord could be taken as a precursor of the fruity floral tidal wave that’s swamped women’s perfumes for the last couple of decades. To blame Guerlain would be unfair, however. Nahema has never been popular or well recognized enough to spur a mass market trend, and where Nahema is characteristically elegant, poised and beautifully balanced, the degenerate mob that has followed is invariably crude, awkward, and marred by grossly inferior ingredients. It’s a credit to Nahema’s composition that the ongoing run of gawky fruity florals has not debased it in the slightest.

Clean rose with peach, not muddy like most peach/rose combos. Reminds me a bit of Arpege, actually, with that slightly tarry aldehyde scent. This has a Lemony edge. It's very nice, but while not precisely dated, it's not something I’d wear. Perhaps there's too much peach in it for my taste.

Nahema is a classic. Hard to believe it comes out of the 1970's instead of the 20's. It's so complex and was created for a complex woman, never meant to be a big showy "Floral" --I can't take the big matronly florals that brag about how MUCH floral is packed into the scent--those remind me of a big lady in a big fur coat. This is truly a warm, sexy scent that is just sweet enough, gentle, and oh so tender. I'd recommend the pure parfum.

I was fortunate to be able to obtain a small bottle of the Nahema EDP on eBay, but just didn't warm to it, mostly because of the fruity note, so set it aside as "not me". Now, retrying it several months later, I love it! Perhaps it's the change in season, but the fruit note is now terrific to my nose. Calling it "peachy rose" comes close, but didn't describe it quite precisely enough; in fact, it reminded me of something familiar, so I went out into my garden to pick some of our rose geranium and -- voila! -- that's it! I have been searching for a rose fragrance forever, but most, if not all, are too sweet, turning nauseating after a while. Nahema's rose is perfectly blended with this rosy green geranium note and the wood and the vanilla support it beautifully to the very end. It really is something unique and I'm going to enjoy wearing it a lot.

"Big rose" is very appropriate. The huge, voluminous powdery aspect dominates for the first couple of hours. I prefer it after this aspect settles down. The tonka/vanillic drydown is very nice. I'm just not the kind of person who likes having to wait for two hours before something starts smelling good.

I remember wearing Nahéma twenty or so years ago and was interested to try it again now that I know a bit more about perfume. It is nice enough fragrance that smells like roses, powder and honey but to be honest, I am not as crazy about it as I once was. Nahéma just seems so one-dimensional and is a poor relation to the likes of Joy. It is nothing compared to a floral masterpieces of today such as Serge Lutens’ Un Lys, or Editions Frederic Malle’s Lys Mediterranee or Carnal Flower. In short, Nahéma’s time is unfortunately past.