Dans Tes Bras (2008)
by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle

Well, it's certainly different, but in this case, that doesn't mean good.

The top notes are sweet and powdery, yet have both a distinct button mushroom accord as well as something redolent of melted plastic. It dries down to something similar, but more soapy and floral. I do not smell violets.

It's quiet, but lasts decently.

It's really not horribly gross or offensive, it's just a smell I don't want on me. I do expect better from a Malle.

If anyone has read my reviews before they know I don't generally take them lightly, but... this smells like green Palmolive. As a matter of fact, it doesn't smell exactly like Palmolive, but rather, it smells like Palmolive if it were made into an Eau d'Parfum. And to be even more accurate, it smells like my hands do AFTER I've washed the dishes with Palmolive, not exactly the dish soap itself. I'm sure I'll not be winning any points in the "most reliable reviews" category with this one but I have tried for two weeks to shake this sensation and every time I wear it I'm like, "yeah... that's Palmolive." When I bury my nose to my skin I'm able to smell the other ingredients, and somewhat soft, fleshy, lightly vanillic impression is detectable, but any poetic waxings that the fragrance might whisper to me are covered in a green, viscous gel. But since Palmolive doesn't smell BAD and because I'm sure I'm missing something here, neutral it is.

Another waste of time, money and airspace from the house of Malle. This edition is so bland and inoffensive there seems to be no reason for its conception. There appears to be too much choice in the world of perfumery and not enough self censorship. Modern mineral, linear, but why? For a more interesting response to the interpretation of flesh odours then try the more challenging Secretions Magnifique by Etat Libre.

Smooth skin and soft jumper,

slightly wet so the smell lifts off it.

Smell again: caring, comfort.

A hint of salty sandalwood, soapy and

mingling with the skin itself.

Musky, warm wool.

Am I the only person who smells this as what it was intended to smell like?

Man, this one’s just weird! I definitely agree that it has a mushroom accord lurking in the composition. But coupled with the synthetic accords of violets, musk and sweaty human flesh, there’s no way I can appreciate it for what it is.

Yes, Dans Tes Bras does push the envelope somewhat (hence the neutral rating) but that’s no consolation for something that I find pretty much unwearable.

[Original submission date: 24 October 2008]

In Dans tes Bras, Maurice Roucel brings up the unspeakable topic of intimacy. Intimacy is something that is difficult to describe, but easily felt. It's a subtle emotion and a state of mind that occurs when we somehow connect to another person on the deepest level through closeness or proximity. It's one of those strange connections between spirit and matter: looking into someone's eyes and having a glimpse into their soul; being so close you can hear their heartbeat and sense their breath on your skin and breathing in the invisible scent of their skin.

Seemingly, there is nothing unusual about Dans tes Bras. It is very perfumey at first: violet accord that is both powdery like orris and wet and woody like cassie underlined by noticeable dosage of heliotropin - that vanillic molecule that makes heliotrope smells so sweet, almondy and plasticky all at once.

It is not until a few hours in that the intimate aspects of Dans tes Bras reveal themselves. At which point, technically speaking the woody base notes (most notably patchouli) are exposed, along with foreign molecules which I’ve never smelled separately and which create the sensation of minerals and salt on hot skin. From a more sentimental point of view, this is the point where Dans tes Bras begins to smell like perfumed skin that has been immaturely washed away in a warm salty ocean, but not completely. Whatever is left on the skin is going to dry out in the hot sand and sun and become only a vague memory of that violet perfume but an even stronger memory of that sunny afternoon on the beach. But if you wait till the morning, you will wake up to remnants of Nag Champa incense smoke that has stuck to your clothes, sheets and everything you've ever possessed.