Wow. This is a dark and dramatic masterpiece. I am not good at identifying notes, but this is definitely a chypre of the Rochas Mystere order. My bottle is quite old so I did not smell many floral notes. It went straight to a Wagnerian forest!
This may become a favorite.
Discovering a chypre from the early 1980s that you've never tried is dicey. While it's new to me, it's by no means a new perfume, and has lived, loved and likely been reformulated a number of times, probably fatally. Hand a new fumie a current bottle of Diorella, she'll sniff and then look at you and say, "This is the shit you've all been talking about?" And she'd be right to ask. The current stuff isn't anything to rave about, or really even discuss.
There's a whole generation of fumies for whom the the tragedy of reformulation means that their Miss Dior Chérie (or whatever it's called at this point) has been tampered with and their Badgely Mischka has been unceremoniously discontinued.
IFRA (International Fragrance Association) regulations diminish the perfumer’s palette. However you come down on the ethics, evidence and outcomes of their restrictions, the IFRA hinders perfumers and takes perfumes away from those who relish them.
The fun for all of us, though, is finding what slips through the cracks.
K de Krizia (perfumer, Maurice Roucel) starts and remains beautiful. There's a bit of a dry fruit feeling upfront, and an appropriate amount of Amber in the far dry down, but all the way along this baby is a soaring floral chypre. What seem like aldehydes provide the lift off, but once at altitude it's the cold flowers that give buoyancy. I don't know the ratio of oakmoss to treemoss to [insert mossy analogue], and god only knows what has been done to modulate the other toxic aromachemicals like bergamot, labdanum, but K de Krizia passes all the functional tests of a chypre. It's dry like a good martini, it's florals are buttery yet sharp in tone, and it makes me want to take it in like a long drag on a cigarette. Now THAT to me is a chypre.
K reminds me quite a bit of Miss Dior. Or at least the reformulation circa 2005 that I have. God knows how many variations of Miss Dior are out there. The floral tone to the two is similar. The petals aren't so much dried as freeze dried and the effect makes them bite back a bit when you sniff your wrists.
Your gift at the end of the day of a wearing of K is a starched soapy climax that seems as thought it might be hissing at you. If you like chypres and like the floral tone that Ivoire de Balmain strikes, try K de Krizia. I found a 100 ml bottle of edp for the price of one snort of an overpriced niche perfume.
One for any list of under-appreciated, inexpensive darlings like Ivoire, Rochas Tocade, Bal à Versailles, Geoffrey Beene Grey Flannel and EL Azurée.
This is a grand and glamorous rose-centered floral chypre scent that could easily have been crass and overbearing, but isn’t, thanks largely to well-calculated structural balance and ingredients that smell of quality. Smelling K de Krizia, I’m reminded both of such floral chypre classics as 1000 and Acqua di Parma Profumo, and of the recent ambitious rose scents from Amouage (Lyric Woman) and Andy Tauer (Une Rose Chyprée). K de Krizia is less fruity-lactonic to my nose than the Patou and Acqua di Parma classics, and lacks the incense that distinguishes Lyric Woman and Une Rose Chyprée. This leaves it both drier and in some ways more transparent than any of these others.
I find this scent especially appealing in its drydown, which showcases bracingly bitter moss, smoky leather, and the merest dab of animalic warmth. Longevity is more than adequate for me at perhaps six hours, and the scent projects well but does not overwhelm the wearer. Once past the more aggressively floral top notes, I find a light application of K de Krizia fairly comfortable to wear as a man, and wonder that it doesn’t receive more attention. For crying out loud, it’s even a bargain!
Massive fruity/floral chypre that smells about uncompromising animalic and aldehydic classicism. Bold and almost forbidding. Yes, an aldehydic bomb exuding at the first blast an aggressive burst of aldehydes, bergamot, spicy orange and mustiness. I soon detect the peach-apricot accord floating over a dense mossy/animalic pond full of civet, leather, musk/oakmoss, sweet spices, balsams, amber/styrax and seasoned woods. The central stage is fruty/floral (a lot of orange, ripe fruits and rose-jasmine) in a sort of musty and ripe way. There is a sort of smokey/waxy vibe in the final soapiness, something conjuring me cozy brown (faintly enlightened) rooms endowed of bar corner, heavy tents, gross frames pictures and confortable sofà. Refined and evocative, a typical distinguished aunt's aroma.
27th February, 2013 (last edited: 22nd December, 2013)
Another great 80s perfume that you can't find anymore. I remember when every single lady had a bottle of this on her dresser (myself included).
I didn't get much of the floral group, but instead it went straight to the sandalwood, vetiver, ect. I was suprised to find this had civet, which usually turns nasty on me in a hurry. Although it has been at least 10 years since I have seen it, I can still remember the warm and woodsy smell. Makes me think of really nice cashmere.