Odalisque (1989)
by Parfums de Nicolaï

Odalisque’s top notes are all sunny, bright green florals, which soon meld with a very attractive sweet-spicy accord. This central arrangement engages the nose with exceptional depth and a complex interplay between its floral and spicy components.

Odalisque’s basic architecture benefits from some discreet animalic musks in its base, along with a subtly earthy chypre accord that hovers just at the edge of olfactory perception. As it develops, Odalisque also reveals an intriguing salty, savory aspect. It’s not the iodine and ozone marine accord familiar from so many modern male fragrances, but a meaty, almost foody smell. Smoky and leathery notes surface from time to time, but their appearances are fleeting, as if they mean to tease the nose. They reveal themselves more fully during the drydown, which features a very plush, yet quiet vanilla over a firm base of moss and woods.

Odalisque is a reserved and understated composition. It wears close to the skin on me, and though it persists for some few hours, it never speaks above a gentle murmur. This reserve makes Odalisque not only suitable for daily wear in any number of social situations, but effectively unisex as well. Not bold perhaps, but very attractive.

A very interesting fresh chypre - lots of jasmine and iris in the heart notes, with just a touch of oakmoss for astringency. It dries down to a floral musk. For some reason, this smells both old and surprisingly new to me. It smells a little old fashioned because of the beautiful florals - but the freshness of the oakmoss keeps it from becoming too cloying. Very sophisticated, very complex, and a wonderful fragrance.

Oh my, the florals. It starts off smelling something like Malle's Carnal Flower - very damp tuberose. Then within seconds that quickly disappears, replaced by what seems to be a rush of aldehydes. After that it picks up a very soapy, incredibly floral lily smell with maybe a hint of rose, but it's hard to tell - lots of flowers. It wears a bit like Chanel no. 5. It also reminds me of the fancy soaps my grandmother has, the kind that, when I use them, I have to rinse...and rinse...and rinse...and rinse...and rinse...just to get rid of the overly floral smell. Not for me.