Djedi (1927)
by Guerlain

NOW, I know what everyone's been talking about: Djedi is unlike any other fragrance I've ever experienced, bar none. I won't rhapsodize on the elements of this fragrance; the folks below have done so eloquently.

What I will share are my associations to this fragrance: When I was a small child, I ventured away from a family picnic on a bright, crystal clear ,hot summer day. I was probably three years old at the time and before I was brought back to my family, I had ventured under a telephone pole with bright, sparkling-blue insulator caps and the steamy smell of creosote pervaded that spot; it was a joyful and yet melancholy moment for me and Djedi took me back there in an instant.

But, Djedi goes even further for me: Djedi is primal and limbic to the core; I can see why people have such intense reactions to this fragrance; I believe my reactions are less about my childhood memory and more about an olfactory archetype. I think this fragrance evokes the deepest fears, hopes and dreams of my childhood and...before that. That is why it is both strange and familiar to me; comforting and disturbing; joyful and morbid. Djedi is like the "Lucy" and "Ginko tree" of scent; it feels like the progenitor of later scents.

And if you want to trace a direct line offspring, follow this: Dejedi of 1927 bore Vetiver (J P Guelain) in 1961. After you have experienced Dejedi, Vetiver seems downright tame.

10th June, 2010. (Last Edited: 28th January, 2011.)

In the top I get some hesperidic notes that havent withstood the passing of time very well, then, vaguely, a sharply green note that might be oakmoss or vetiver. Mostly, however, the scent is dry and smoky in a way that reminds me of the smell of wool. It feels dense and flat and muted - it stays very close to the skin with non-existent sillage and doesn't develop much over time either. It's like it never warms or blossoms on my skin. I'm sad to say it doesn't do much for me and although it was interesting to smell I'm not as sorry it's discontinued as a lot of people are. In the interest of dosclosure, though, I only have a tiny sample and it might be better sprayed.

2nd May, 2010.

This review is for the 1996 reissue, not the original 1926 version. I've tried samples of the '26 from two different sources but I'm not certain either of them are sufficiently 'fresh' enough to give a fair review.

The 1996 reissued Djedi is without any question perfect in every possible way, and if there's any one fragrance I could wear every day for the rest of my life it would be Djedi. Djedi is a fragrance so packed with subtlety yet comes off as effortless and simple. The theme is simple: vetiver and sandalwood. The opening is a dark, pungent smoky vetiver that rivals the vetiver note of any of today's vetiver heavy-hitters. Behind the vetiver is a woodiness that reminds me of a much, much richer version of Floris Vetiver's vetiver/wood accord. Over a couple hours the vetiver slowly melds into the most rich and fantastic leathery sandalwood accord with hints of oakmoss and other woody notes in the background. The woody aroma is rich and full, and it rivals any sandalwood or leather scent I've ever experienced. To have the best of vetiver and the best of sandalwood in a single fragrance is truly remarkable. I assume that today with the unavailability of true mysore sandalwood a fragrance like Djedi would not be possible.

Here's the best part of Djedi: the way it wears. Obviously getting any quantity is hard to come by and it cannot be wasted. Luckily Djedi knows for itself how precious it is. One spray and a couple dabs with a Q-tip creates sufficient sillage to surround the wearer in a bubble of heavenly aroma all day. The longevity is truly extraordinary, and I hope to someday (soon....heheh...) have enough Djedi such that just once I can go wild applying it and allow it to penetrate and envelop my entire body. I anticipate it being a religious experience.

23rd October, 2009.

Guerlain Djedi vintage extrait

The first impression upon applying Djedi is a large dose of natural civet. Natural civet is much softer than the artificial version--although both have a sort of mothball quality, natural civet is much warmer and rounded, with a sweet, almost floral aspect that the artificial chemical never achieves. Quickly, the civet moves more to a supporting role, and a very leathery note emerges. I think it is probably birch tar since there is a slight petrochemical, smoky and tannic edge to it. The sweetness of the civet is quite nice with the birch tar, knocking off the sharp corners of the birch tar harshness. As the mid notes continue to develop, powder also becomes more apparent. It is the sweet and dry powder that I normally associate with orris root. There are probably also some other florals present, but I can't pick out any particular one. There is simply a floral feel to the composition, not unlike Chanel Cuir de Russie, but more subdued and quite a bit drier.

The intermediate dry iris and birch tar stage lasts a rather long time--quite nice since this part of the development is immensely pleasing. One thing I find interesting are the two thoughts that keep popping into my head. First, that Djedi seems like a rather cool fragrance. The composition itself is not cooling or mentholated, and it is not cool in the sense of a green fragrance category, but the dry chypre leather composition creates a distant and aloof impression. Second, I keep thinking that this is probably what Parfumerie Generale Cuir d'Iris was inspired by, but I must say, Cd'I fell short by several miles. Djedi is a soft, powdery and dry orris and oakmoss leather. Cuir d'Iris is bottled leather tanning chemicals in comparison.

In the drydown, Djedi is quite diffuse with primarily oakmoss and a few remaining hints of the orris root I smelled more strongly in the mid notes. The birch tar has also become significantly attenuated, and I think the remaining smokyness I smell is probably from vetiver. There is still a rather strong leather note, so it is possible Djedi contains one of the major leather aromachemicals used in perfumery. It is quite subtle, however, and had the effect of carrying the birch tar impression into the drydown. I have been wondering where the Guerlain vanilla or tonka might be, and just when I was about to give up, caught the olfactory version of a glimpse in the drydown--it is a slightly sweet undertone rather than a main note in the base. Djedi is a beautiful dry leather chypre, subdued, smooth and composed from beginning to end. It seems a bit on the masculine side, especially compared to Chanel Cuir de Russie, but is undoubtedly wearable by either men or women.

22nd March, 2009.

When I first applied Djedi I got a big blast of cedarwood and vetiver. Then, after a few moments a cool medicinal note like camphor emerged. That note was very brief and as it passed the scent became only slightly warmer and drier. The next phase is where I started to understand why others have compared Vera Profomo's Onda to Djedi. There are similarities at this stage. See Quarry's review below where her husband likened Djedi to the smell of a "dirty diaper". I have to admit that in both Djedi and Onda there is a note that does evoke that smell, but why it doesn't come off as offensive to me is a mystery. It is a strange note indeed, more pronounced (and consitant) in Onda, making the scent more feral, while in Djedi that note is more refined and layered with somthing so beautiful and melancholy, there are no words to describe it. That note is where the similarities between Djedi and Onda begin and end. Where Djedi is the dark, dank basement of the castle that so many have mentioned, Onda is a hot barn on a sunny day (i mean all of this in a GOOD way). Djedi is a journey that starts out at a place that's dark and cold. Along the way there are grasses, dirt and sweat with something mysterious lurking in the shadows. If you allow it, Djedi can take you to a place deep and primal that can't be described merely by listing what notes come first or second. It can take you to a place that's deep within and primal, where words have limitations and when you reach the light at the end of that tunnel, all that's left is a faint whisper of vetiver like nothing ever happened.

Many of you may have seen this already, but here is a link for an interesting piece of writing on perfume and the human condition:

http://64.233.169.104/search?q=cache:ZnCe_MFSAOAJ:blog.seattlepi.nwsource.com/print.asp%3FentryID%3D122480+Djedi+by+guerlain&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=17&gl=us

10th July, 2008.

Why try Djedi? What struck me is that before mine there are but six reviews, all positive, several of which describe Djedi as not just a fragrance, but as an experience. While many fragrances reviewed on Basenotes produce intense reactions, few seem to rival the effects of Djedi.

Curiosity got the best of me, so I obtained a small decant of the vintage parfum (not the reissue). Was it worth it? Yes! Dark, earthy, pungent, austere and unlike anything I have ever tried. A great scent to support introspective thinking and quiet contemplation. I cannot help but wonder how wearers were affected and impressed by Djedi in the 1920s.

11th May, 2008.