The opening of Jasmin de Nuit is really nice and intriguing, with fairly more amber and vanilla than
jasmine - a synthetic, dusty, "grey" amber-vanilla accord. The jasmine appears like buried under a layer of this grey sweet dust, enveloped in a fog of ambery silky notes, which is a great visual effect, as it makes me think of the smell of ancient, Neoclassic statues in gardens. Plus, it also has a whole more contemporary side, as this "satin" feel may also be viewed as an industrial, polished kind of powdery feel. Shortly other notes come in too: aniseed, cinnamon, eugenol (cloves) and a light hint of patchouli, all with the same rarefied appearance, all sharing a warm, ambery and slightly fizzy feel (I guess due to ambroxan, or however, pleasantly artificial). A radiant, graceful, nostalgic but also surprisingly contemporary scent. Warm and cold from times to times. In all this, the jasmine is still a sort of white shade that comes and goes, finally vanishing quite soon - which leads us to the main weakness of this scent, which is the drydown, quite dull and linear, mostly centered on spices. Nonetheless, apart from that, a nice, elegant, interesting modern scent.
P.S. I don't smell anything indolic at all.
The Different Company line has always left me quite cold, none of their fragrances has ever really struck me, JdN itself was a huge disappointment, when I was looking for a more realistic jasmine.
Then, last July, after a holiday in Kefalonia, where I could smell jasmine literally everywhere, I decided to revisit some fragrances I had overlooked and fell for Jasmin de Nuit! It's not the flower itself- to be truly honest I barely can detect it, one could mention tens of more meaningful fragrances in this respect- but the particular association with spices- cinnamon, cardamom, aniseed, a hint of clover and mace- that enhances the natural stink of jasmine to create a smooth, soft animalic feel. The fragrance is quite linear, not evolving much in time, revealing a creamy musk-vanilla base in the drydown, well reminiscent of cookies, as other reviewers suggest. This particular aspect proved decisive for me getting a full bottle of JdN: the second more ubiquitous scent in Kefalonia was cinnamon, generously sprinkled on cookies, pastries and cakes (and also savoury dishes). A spritz of Jasmin de Nuit and, instead of in greyish Milan, I'm having my morning walk to the bakery in Karavomilos!
Opens with fizzy jasmine backed by cake spice, zesty with a twist. Sadly soon settles to a flat pop sweetness with the spice clumping to the bottom of the glass.
The promotional guff evokes the magical scent of nighttime jasmine wafting across the earth odours released by a garden in darkness – if this even hinted at that rather than coming across as the remnants of a sweety-mad kid’s birthday party it would hit the spot.
A plain powdery jasmine, averagely dry, subtle and spicy. The first hesperidic-fruity whiff of bergamot, blackcurrant and jasmine (the best part of the smell in my opinion) is followed by a flourish of spices (mostly cinnamon) and a final almost talky evolution of powdery sandalwood and dry amber that reminds me a bit the dry down of Roma. A faint fruitiness emerges from the powder without hindering the general sharpness. The powder is slightly aromatic and minty because of the note of star anise and a touch of symbolic vanilla doesn't imprint oriental creamy density. The high level of distinction is set by the link of spices and patchouli while i don't feel the listed cardamom. The jasmine is romantic and silent. The smell is tenacious although you doesn't catch it on yourself after the first ten minutes.
18th December, 2011 (last edited: 02nd July, 2012)
It's always a bad sign when you look forward to the disappearance from your skin of the scent you are currently wearing. Alas, this is the case with EPICES DE NUIT, er, JASMIN DE NUIT by The Different Company.
Well, this one is different: no argument there, and some wearers will delight in this mélange of star anise, cinnamon, cardamom, and probably everything else in the spice drawer, along with a few jasmine petals. My impression is that perfumer was trying to plump up the indolic facet of the jasmine through the skillful use of hard-hitting spices. The effect, to my nose, is rather like the athlete who plies himself with hormones in order to win the race, but later is exposed, forced to retreat from public life in ignominy.
In perfect comformity with Murphy's law of perfume (according to which everything I love is discontinued and everything I hate has infinite longevity) this composition is so tenacious that I fear only a long, hot bath will relieve my body of the smell. On a positive note: anyone who likes this sort of thing will be happy to learn that even a couple of drops of this parfum masquerading as an edt packs a powerful punch. Although I am trapped in a fog of spice emanations, my sample "cube" is nearly full.
To reiterate: definitely not for me.
If Frederic Malle's ambrosial Musc Ravageur didn't exist, I would almost certainly own a bottle of Jasmin de Nuit. For despite Celine Ellena's fragrance possessing distinct charms of its own - blackcurrant, jasmine, star anise - and being delightful, the two scents dry down to a similar enough cinnamon-vanilla that only one is warranted in my life. And because Musc Ravageur is by far the more muskular of the pair and makes Jasmin de Nuit smell like jasmine cream soda, I'm entirely happy with my choice of Roucel's masterpiece.