Eau d'Hadrien Eau de Toilette (1981)
by Annick Goutal

I have two factory samples of Eau d'Hadrien, one from about 8 years ago, and one recent, and they're completely different perfumes. I'm not talking about the way that topnotes can turn with time, but literally different perfumes.

The older sample is the Eau d'Hadrien I love, a timeless classic cologne, perfectly matched lemon and bergamot, slightly sparkling and given grit with lavender, a touch soapy in the drydown.

The newer sample is clearly Creed-inspired. It's still lemon, but with a big shot of dihydromercenol on top and some vague melon and greens underneath, coming across like an extremely lemony Millesime Imperial.

The classic Eau d'Hadrien is iconic, a textbook example of a perfect classic citrus eau de cologne. If it's been replaced by this more modern aquatic lemon, it's a real loss for perfumery, though I must admit that the newer aquatic version is decent for what it is. Hopefully, I just got a mis-bottled sample, but I'll admit to being worried.

Insofar as all perfumery is artifice, what with extracts from natural sources often diverging from how the thing itself smells and the most ‘natural’ smelling soliflore recreations often dependent upon a battery of synthetics to achieve that verisimilitude, the judgment of what the nose perceives as synthetic is often a dubious one. And yet, being creatures of subjectivity, the perception of the synthetic (mental shorthand for ‘unauthentic’) plays a crucial role in deciding whether we take to a perfume which aspires to present us with a vision of ordered nature. (Unabashedly abstract creations are a different matter.) Citrus scents suffer especially from this perception and I am among many who can dislike their chemical ‘screech’. So finding a good ‘un is cause for celebration.
And yet, there is, of course, no universality to this perception - some still dismiss Eau d’Hadrien as Lemon Pledge, whereas I find it zings as if it had just issued from a squeezed rind.
This is a sprightly, refreshing, non-sweet citrus (lemon is the most prominent in the mix) with subtle tones of pepper and celery that make it even more bracing. There’s an undertow of bitters common to citrus peels and the whole thing is simple, direct and elegant – the kind of perfume one can safely wear on stressful days and feel lifted rather than burdened by it.

Love this fragrance!! Fresh with subtle base notes. It burns off quickly, but a fresh application is intoxicating.

We are moving into summer here in the Antipodes. I bought Eau du Sud long before sampling Hadrian and can't imagine why anyone could prefer Hadrian but it has its devotees. I think Eau Sauvage is on the Turin/Sanchez Top 100 list this week that is the honeypot thread so it's a good time to comment. Edmond Roudnitska composed Eau Savage for men but hoped it would appeal to women. It surely did, and Eau de Hadrian is one from that genre, except that it has nothing of the trill that announces the beautiful Herbes de Provence fragrances that we love.
( plus Basil, Verbena, Mint, Caraway, Thyme)
Hadrian seems more caraway to begin with followed by a hot lemon drink scent, a toddy, and the furniture polish of Neopol. I don't like Hadrian until it is no more than a skin scent and it is here I marvel at it, a field of wildflowers leaves its own particular zest. Eau Sauvage, Eau de Rochas, Eau du Sud, Cristalle and the like carry their appeal up front, while Hadrian exits with it. I can't mention caraway without thinking of Luca Turin and his vibrational theory, so I commend anyone to watch the BBC Perfume series that covers his early attempts at recognition.

Starts with a big, concentrated lemon, and fades into a nice creamy heart.