Bal à Versailles (1962)
by Jean Desprez

Add another voice to the chorus in praise of Bal à Versailles! As a traditional oriental fragrance, Bal à Versailles’s kinship with Shalimar is obvious: there is a similarly smoky, dark vanilla and there is plenty of opoponax. However, there is also more indolic orange blossom more obvious civet, more animalic musks, and perhaps even a suggestion of leather. (Labdanum, perhaps? Yes – labdanum and opoponax in a leathery accord, I think.) Bal à Versailles is perfectly judged in terms of balance: floral vs. spicy-vanillic vs. animalic; and in terms of strength. Unlike some orientals of the ‘80s, say Opium, Samsara, or KL, Bal à Versailles never shouts. It does last, however. And last. A full day and a couple of showers are not enough to banish Bal àVersailles’s voluptuous labdanum, musk, and vanilla drydown.

Bal à Versailles is a dark, glamorous, and evocative scent. It is not so much “old-fashioned” or “old-school” as timeless: though released in the early 1960s, it could have been composed decades earlier. A beautifully crafted scent that’s completely deserving of is classic status. As a man, I find it easy to wear, provided I apply it lightly. It strikes me as little more inherently “feminine” than orientals in the mold of Héritage, Habit Rouge, or Jaïpur Homme.

Mmmmm. Perfect! An ambery floral with a chalkdust note that softens the sharpness. An elusive peachy fruit note makes this pleasant and wearable.
If there is musk, it is not the sweet juicy white musk I'm used to smelling in newer frags (I don't like that kind of musk). It is dry and dusty but not too much so.
There is a vague sweet richness which is delicate and hard to define.
For some reason Bal a Versailles reminds me of old books and paintings, the historical buildings on my college campus, and the beautiful intelligent people who inhabit them.
A smart scent in my mind. I. LOVE. THIS. STUFF. !!

Bal a Versailles has been a favourite of mine since 1977, when I moved to it from Opium. I wore it for a few years until it became almost impossible to get in the UK. Now it is only available - and only infrequently - at limited outlets like Harrod's 'Urban Retreat'. My current bottle was purchased in Boston, USA.

According to an article in British Vogue, B a V was reformulated around 2002. This must be why my current bottle smells slightly different from my earlier ones. It smells more musky and animalic. I prefer the original, which was truly delicious, but the reformulation is also very good.

Bal a Versailles is a magnificent, complex, and intriguing scent, which comes in a beautiful bottle. It's also a reputed favourite of Queen Elizabeth II. Like Jackie Onassis, she has excellent taste.

I was ready to dislike this. It can be had cheaply and the rather girlish bottle potents something cloying and outdated. Well, I was wrong. While I wasn't completely wowed over by the rather fascinating light oriental floral of the eau de cologne, the drydown is one of the most ravishing I've smelled for a while. Really beautiful. Cheap and beautiful- yes, that is possible!

I have liked this fragrance for many years, since the early 70's, when I discovered it working at a perfume counter in a big department store. I worked in men’s cosmetics, but I tried as many ladies perfumes as I could and this was my favorite. I think that the perfume smells much better than the edt though. There is a rather shocking sharpness in the edt that does not seem to be in the perfume. After the initial unpleasantness, it mellows out quite a but. The perfume has a nicer sweetness to it and brings a richly romantic overindulgence to mind, like dangerous liaisons or something. I wish there were more Jean Desprez perfumes available.

I am amazed to see BàV described as “soft,” “sweet,’ “romantic” on some review sites. It’s not that innocent. In my own mood categories, I’ve always placed BàV beside L’Air de Rien. I think of LdR as a kinder, gentler BàV. I am pleasantly shocked by BàV’s unabashed, sex-in-a bottle appeal. On second thought, it is more like afterglow in a bottle: lush and languid, warm and spent, a bit rumpled and hastily dressed. Rather than invite seduction, Bal à Versailles suggests the secret of having been seduced. The delicious, animalic basenotes are evident from the beginning, and dominate over time. I don’t get any powder or soap. Just a mix of leathery, slightly smoky, floral, musky, civety, velvet.

Like an olfactory tattoo, the EDT penetrates my skin so thoroughly and for so long that I wonder if it will be permanent. It smolders to such an extent that I find myself touching my arm to see if my skin indeed radiates heat.

I don’t find it dated (bottle design aside), because this sort of scent was never really trendy. The container is a masterpiece of kitsch, a parody of perfume bottles, an ironic interpretation of the scent itself. Or perhaps that’s the idea: the overdressed look of the bottle attempts to cover the nakedness of the scent within. A strange, daring, disturbing, beautiful, haunting, love-it or hate-it scent. Love it.