Jarling
by JAR

This is like En Passant moved to Soho in London. I worked there, in an office I hasten to add!, some years ago, and initially was shocked to find that on my short walk round the block to grab a coffee, I would pass, um what's the polite term for them? - ladies of the night? - except this was at noon on a Monday, and they would be hanging out of their doorways, with a lot hanging out, right across from a children's school! - and playground. If you know London well, you know where this juxtaposition occurs. I'm not making it up. Kids running around playing, with these women advertising their wares right next door in broad daylight. Wow. So, Jarling take the lilac caught on the run theme, and repositions it to this sort of environment. It's quite decadent, with the neon-flashing lights of some other big white florals - lily, jasmine, tuberose; quite sweet, with that heliotrope and vanilla; and there's something very naughty lurking in there - like PVC covered in talcum powder. I really like it.

You know the taste when you first bite into an Almond Joy (or better yet a "Mounds" with no pesky almond to disrupt things)? That coconutty, almondy, sugary sweetness that briefly makes your teeth ache? Well, that is what Jarling smells like during the very first minute that you apply it. After that, Jarling develops into a lush tuberose fragrance with a hint of cherries of all things. It has a middling degree of sillage. At this kind of price (320 euros/30ml), I would have expected a bit more complexity and lasting power.

After sampling this, I just had to visit the JAR store in Paris (not affiliated). The following is a brief account of my visit:
No appointments to smell the JAR perfumes at the JAR store on rue Castiglione are necessary, unlike the rules to view JAR’s jewelry line which is sold at a different location. Anyways, you arrive at the JAR store, ring a bell to request entrance and then are ushered by an immaculately dressed man into a silent room which has one small round table and two chairs. The room is sparsely decorated in the French ancien regime style and is painted a dark aubergine. The ceiling has an elaborate crystal chandelier and, as a touch of whimsy, a mural of a thunderous dark sky with a giant lightning bolt. Bottles of each JAR perfume sit nearby on an elevated lighted stand which seems like an untouchable shrine. I did not dare go near them. Once you are seated, you notice that on the table are a number of glass containers which look like covered petri dishes and each contain a piece of crumpled fabric doused in scent. The JAR representative’s role is to silently open each glass container one at a time and hold it up to you for a sniff of the saturated fabric. He is extremely courteous even though he will ONLY tell you the name of each perfume and nothing else. JAR’s policy is that they do not reveal any notes or comments about their fragrances. It is all meant to be a big secret, I suppose. So there you are, sniffing the contents of each glass container and you want to have a conversation about what you smell with your companion but somehow you get the feeling that it would be uncouth to say anything in the presence of the JAR representative about the perfumes.

On the whole, the JAR fragrances are extremely idiosyncratic and very expensive (for a 30 ml bottle, they range from 220 - 530 euros), and would not appeal to the mainstream consumer. For example, I cannot imagine what the average person would think of the distinct dill pickle notes in “Shadow”. However, I get the impression that the weirdness and cult-like secrecy is by design. It is almost as if the JAR perfume line is a side hobby for Joel Arthur Rosenthal and he really doesn’t care if his perfumes sell or not. There is certainly no pressure to buy anything but given the silence and somewhat forbidding atmosphere, you do not feel like lingering either. We thanked the JAR gentleman who graciously shook our hands and then left the strange little world of JAR perfumes.